Sintown Chronicles I: Behind Closed Doors (67 page)

“If it does rain, we can have the ceremony in here,” Jan said.

“Yes,” Susan replied lifelessly, “but it won't be the same."

“I don't see anything for us to do in here,” Jan observed.

“Me either. Let's go back to the house. There's a huge cedar tree in the living-room to be decorated and another in the den."

“What's that kid doing?” Jan asked, pointing to a young man climbing a ladder propped against an ancient oak tree.

“That's Sean Something-or-other. He's the computer whiz kid the Dollars discovered shortly after coming to Dot. They set him up with his own consulting business and he runs the Dollar Internet Service. His office is across from mine over Dot's Diner. Anyway, he's setting up the speakers for a sound system. Sandy spent hours selecting just the right Christmas CD's to play tonight."

“You think this wind will blow away the clouds?” Jan asked.

“Maybe."

Someone had already put strings of lights on the trees in the living room and den. Susan didn't like them—too many of the same colored bulbs next to each other—so the two blue-denim clad brides-to-be set out to rearrange them.

“Oh, good,” Sandy chirped as she entered the room carrying her baby. “Tim put up the lights last night and was so proud of them. I didn't have the heart to tell him the bulbs needed to be rearranged."

“Good morning, Sandy,” Jan said. “I hope you don't mind us decorating the tree."

“Mercy, no,” she laughed, poking the baby in his fat tummy. “There's another one in the den when you finish this one. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your lives, but you two look as if your best friend just croaked."

“We're a little depressed by the weather,” Susan explained.

“It's not going to rain, ladies,” Sandra laughed. “I promise."

“Yeah, right,” Jan joked.

“I'm serious. Jan, do you believe in God?"

“What?"

Susan started laughing. “I guess you haven't heard that Sandy has a direct line to the Almighty."

“What are you talking about?"

“Last year Sandy got it in her head that it must snow on Christmas Eve. She prayed about it for weeks. Christmas Eve dawned bright and beautiful with a temperature racing towards a high in the upper seventies."

“And it snowed that night?"

“Yep. Sandy was the only one not caught by surprise."

“Trust me, ladies,” Sandra said as she departed. “Tonight your ceremony will be performed beside my pond shimmering with both the reflection of colorful lights on the cedar trees and the bright stars in the sky above."

“I would not have figured Sandy to be a religious fanatic,” Jan said quietly after Sandy left the room.

“Believe me, Jan. She's not."

Susan and Jan brought in wood and stacked it by the fireplace in the den after they completed the living room tree. They then began rearranging light bulbs on the cedar in the far corner of the room.

Suddenly Susan slowly and deliberately said, “Oh, my God."

Applause erupted from elsewhere in the house.

Jan followed Susan's eyes and clapped her hands when she saw the sunlight flowing in through the windows.

“Friends,” began Mack McGee, “we are assembled in the sight of God and in the presence of these witnesses to join together these two couples in Holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God, and adorned by our Lord Jesus Christ by his presence and the first miracle that he wrought in Cana of Galilee. It is commended by the Apostle Paul to be honorable among all men; and therefore is not to be entered into lightly, but reverently, soberly, discretely."

Jake knew the temperature was now in the upper fifties, but he was perspiring profusely. He could not remember ever having been so nervous—so uncertain. God, he prayed silently, if I am making a mistake, please let me know before it is too late.

“The Holy Scriptures set before you the love of Christ for His Church as an example for your devotion. You are not left without guidance concerning the meaning of that love. These are the words of the Great Apostle found in I Corinthians 13."

Jake looked at Jan, standing beside him, smiling sweetly, holding a bouquet of flowers. He glanced at Vic, so smug and self-confident, but he thought Susan looked as if she might prefer to be somewhere else.

“Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful. It does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends."

Jan looked at Jake and beamed. Jake began to tremble. He feared he might be having a heart attack.

“Into such a union you come now to be joined. If either of you, or anyone present, knows any just cause why this marriage should not be solemnized, I charge you to make it known at this time or hereafter to remain silent."

Involuntarily Jake looked up at the night sky and silently asked, God? There was no answer.

“Do you, Victor Kimel, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, and forsaking all others to devote yourself to her?"

“I do,” Vic replied, his voice breaking.

Sandra squeezed Tim's hand.

Betty couldn't shake Bo's image from her mind.

Sarasue nudged Carl in the ribs, but he kept his eyes glued on the preacher.

“Do you, Susan Honneycutt, take this man to be your lawful, wedded husband, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, and forsaking all others to devote yourself to him?"

Jake assumed Susan agreed. He saw her lips moving, but heard no sound.

“Betty,” Rita whispered, “this may not be the right time to tell you, but I'm pregnant with Bo's child."

“Oh, Rita,” Betty sobbed flinging her arms around her lover, “me too."

“Do you, Jake Everheart..."

God, Jake pleaded silently. This is it. Tell me what to do. Then he blinked. Who was that standing behind the preacher? It looked like his beloved Mary, wearing her wedding dress. She was radiant. She smiled at him and mouthed the words, I love you.

“I love you,” Jake said as he looked deep into Jan's eyes. “I do."

Jake looked back at Mary. She was still smiling. She nodded. She blew him a kiss. She was gone.

“Do you, Jan Patrick, take this man to be your lawful, wedded husband, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, and forsaking all others to devote yourself to him?"

“Oh, yes,” she gushed. “I certainly do."

“I believe you have rings."

While the couples exchanged simple bands of gold, Carl Elliott hugged Sarasue and whispered, “Maybe next year we should be the first black couple to be married at the Dollars’ Christmas party."

“Inasmuch as you have agreed to enter the holy rite of wedlock, and have given and received a ring in token and pledge of your love, I now declare you husband and wife in the name of Christ, our Lord and Master."

Mack lifted his head, raised his voice and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Victor Kimel and Mr. and Mrs. Jake Everheart."

The sound system burst forth with an instrumental arrangement of Handel's
Hallelujah Chorus
.

A lone, short, bearded figure loomed behind parked cars in the driveway, secretly observing the festivities. “Merry Christmas, Betty,” he mumbled as tears descended his cheeks.

Vic swooped Susan up in his arms and carried her over the threshold in perfect romance novel fashion. Earlier he arranged with Mary Lou McGee to purchase the house in which Susan was living, so now it was truly their home.

“Tomorrow this time,” he said, “we'll be in Hawaii on our honeymoon."

He carried her through the living room to her—now their—bedroom and gently laid her on the bed. Sitting beside her with lips hovering just above hers, he said, “I love you, Susan Honneycutt Kimel."

She smiled.

He kissed her passionately. She parted her lips for him, but their tongues did not met. He undressed her slowly, lovingly and with many caresses and kisses.

She allowed it.

He kissed her left breast and drew her nipple into his mouth.

“Don't, Vic,” she protested putting her hands on his shoulders. “I may have blackheads and stuff around my nipples."

He kissed her other breast lightly and began fondling them both as he kissed his way down to her navel, to her pubic hair, to her...

“Please don't, Vic. That's nasty."

He placed his hand on her vagina. It felt like sandpaper. He raced to the bathroom, tearing away his clothes as he went. He searched for lubricant and finally found a bottle of baby oil. He generously applied the lotion to his throbbing penis and rushed back to her side.

She remained just as he left her. He kissed her right thigh, her kneecap, and her ankle. He tried to draw her big toe into his mouth, but she pulled away.

“Get on with it, Vic,” she said.

He thought she was teasing. It took some effort, but she allowed him to spread her thighs slightly. He entered her slowly, slowly, slowly.

She remained motionless.

He began moving his hips. He fondled her breasts, kissed her eyelids, her forehead. He didn't want to, but he moved faster. He raised his shoulders above her and looked at their joined body parts. The sight fried his brain. “Oh, baby,” he moaned. She stared straight upward, as if counting the cracks in the plaster ceiling.

He ejaculated much sooner than he planned and collapsed, resting most of his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing her. He kissed her ear. “I love you Susan,” he whispered.

“I'm pregnant,” she replied.

“You'll break your back,” Jan kidded as Jake tried to pick her up when they reached the front porch. “Here,” she said moving behind him, “carry me piggyback."

“Tomorrow we'll be in Myrtle Beach surf fishing,” he said.

“That's tomorrow,” she replied. “We have more important business right here tonight.” She drove her tongue between his lips without taking the time to turn on the lights.

They couldn't keep their hands off each other. They left a trail of discarded clothing and by the time they reached the darkened bedroom, they were both naked.

“I have a surprise for you,” Jake gasped. He found her hand and drew it to his crotch.

“Jake,” she cried. “Oh, Jake. It's so big. Oh, honey, I'm so happy for you."

She bounced into the bed, pulled her knees to her breasts and parted them obscenely. “Don't waste it, honey. Let me have it now."

He drove his penis deep inside her fluid vagina. He felt her warm juices engulf him, her hips grinding against his. With his fingers he gently compressed her erect nipples and listened to her moan with pleasure. He began to move and felt muscles deep inside her involuntarily stroking him with rapidly increasing intensity.

She screamed and locked her ankles behind his back. He moved faster and faster. Her hips ground against him furiously. Her head pressed against the pillow as she moaned and lifted her buttocks. He felt the moment rapidly approaching and, in an unsuccessful attempt to delay the inevitable, tightened the muscles of his buttocks.

She sensed his approaching orgasm. She dug her fingernails into his back. “Let it come you old fart. I'm with you."

“Shit,” he gasped through clinched teeth. “You're one up on me."

“Who's countiiiiiiinnnnngggg?"

He stayed inside her for several minutes. He told her gleefully that he was having aftershocks.

Finally, he lay on his back. She hovered over him, tickling his chest with her diamond-hard nipples.

His eyes were accustomed to the dark now and he watched her nipples caress him. He lovingly fondled her buttocks.

This is too good to be true, he thought as he felt his penis begin to twitch and swell. He groped blindly on his bedside table and tossed the little brown box, still containing its magic appliance, at the trashcan.

“Two points,” she said as the box rattled inside the metal wastebasket.

“Hell, that was clear across the room. Three points,” he argued.

“Bet you can't do it again."

“Reach between my legs and then say that,” he bragged.

“Hey, mister,” she said, trying to smile. “Looking for a good time? Fifty bucks—anything you want."

Randy Nickels clutched the package closer to his shivering body and shook his head negatively as he tried to move past her, but the woman stepped to the middle of the sidewalk, blocking his path.

“Twenty-five bucks,” she said, no longer trying to smile.

“No,” he replied gruffly moving to his right and nearly stepping into the street. He clutched the collar of his topcoat against the December wind and noticed that she was wearing only a thin cotton dress.

“Fifteen dollars,” she pleaded as he passed her.

“I said no,” he retorted.

“Five bucks for a damned blow job,” she called after him. “Man, I'm hungry. Help me out here."

He walked to the end of the block and glanced over his shoulder. She was still standing there, staring at him. He retraced his steps.

“Your car close by?” she asked as she hurried to meet him.

“I've never met a homeless person before, but I guess I have now,” he said, a little kindness creeping into his voice. “Where do you sleep at night? Don't you have a coat? When was the last time you had a decent meal?"

“Do you want a blow job or my life's history?"

“I'm in the parking deck in the next block. I don't want to have sex with you, but damn it, I can't leave you here in this bitter cold. The weatherman is predicting freezing rain and sleet for tonight, and besides, nobody should be alone on New Year's Eve."

She fell in stride beside him. “I've been staying at the mission a couple of streets over. I ate a decent meal there last night. As far as a coat is concerned, what you see is what you get. The little I owned was stolen from me the first night in the mission."