Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (67 page)

Sam followed her to the kitchen. “You can't mean that,” he said as he sat at the kitchen table.

She pulled two Budweiser's from the refrigerator. “Mean what?"

“What you said about your daughter."

“I meant every word of it,” she replied, placing his beer on the table.

He twisted the cap on the brown bottle. “Who's the father?"

“You think I don't know who knocked me up?” Her eyes were blazing.

“I didn't mean it that way. It's just that ... if you didn't want her you could have opted for an abortion."

“Yeah,” she said wistfully as she sat in a chair opposite him. “Her dad is my on-again, off-again boyfriend. He's off right now."

Sam read the pain in her eyes.

“I wanted to have an abortion, but he wanted to keep the brat. He said he'd marry me. Of course, he changed his mind after it was too late."

“Does he come to see her—help support her?"

She laughed sarcastically. “He works as a deejay in a local club. He doesn't make enough to feed himself, let alone his daughter. He had a good job once as a computer systems manager, but sticky fingers caught up with him."

“Sticky fingers?"

She smiled. “He liked to bring his work home with him—including company owned computers. They couldn't prove he was the thief, but they found a way to get rid of him anyway."

“Is the Macintosh in the living room one of his, uh, acquisitions?'

She nodded. “We still communicate occasionally by email."

“But he never visits Annie?"

“Oh, he comes around sometimes, but not to see Annie. He drops by when he can't find a piece of pussy somewhere else or needs a handout."

“Did you love him?"

“Bullshit. There's no such thing as love.” She paused and dropped her eyes. “Yes, damn it all. I loved the son-of-a-bitch. Still do."

He glanced at his watch. “My ten minutes are about gone. Shelly, will you marry me?"

She chuckled. “You're a damn fruitcake."

“Maybe. I'm twenty-four years old—a mechanic at a Charlotte trucking company. I make good money. I have a nice little house in Dot on Lumbermill Road. I've never been married but I'm ready to change that. I don't think I'm bad looking. I'll be a good father to Annie and you'll never have to work in a strip joint again."

“You ashamed of my vocation?” she hissed. “Do you have any idea of how much money I make?"

He shook his head. “I don't know and I don't care."

“A thousand bucks a night,” she said, ignoring his comment. “That's six thousand a week—over three hundred grand a year. Can you match that?"

“If the money is that important to you I'll look after Annie while you're working. I'll look after the house too, and I'm a great cook."

“Having a working stripper for a wife doesn't bother you?"

He emptied the bottle and replied, “Yeah. It does. But I'll do anything to make you my wife. You'll love Dot and the house. It sits on nearly an acre of wooded land, but there's plenty of room for flower gardens."

She chuckled. “You're too much. Can you imagine me on my knees planting flowers?"

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, I can—wearing skimpy cutoffs and a tight fitting halter top while Annie digs in a sandbox or plays in a swing set."

She stood and tossed both empty bottles in the recycling bin. “Your ten minutes are up."

His shoulders slumped as he slowly stood. “You're right,” he said and reluctantly moved towards the front door.

“You give up too easily."

He placed his hand on the doorknob and did not turn around. “I knew someone as beautiful as you would never be interested in me. I gave it a shot. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

“You really are a fruitcake. You didn't even ask for my phone number."

“What's the use?” he asked as he opened the door. “Thanks for the ten minutes."

She spun him around, grabbed his shirt, pulled him close as her hands traveled over his hard chest to his neck, up his cheeks, and nestled in his thick dark hair. She pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his, exploring the deep recesses of his mouth with her experienced tongue.

“I would never consider marrying a guy who can't satisfy me in bed,” she said huskily. “Want to spend the night?"

Sam sat up and yawned as he stretched. Something didn't seem right. He wasn't wearing pajamas and the bed was unfamiliar. He smiled when he remembered and reached for his watch on the bedside table. “Damn!” he said when he realized it was nine in the morning. Calm down, Sam, he cautioned himself. You're not late for work. It's Sunday.

He pulled on his shorts, padded to the bathroom and relieved himself noisily as he listened to the sounds of Annie's voice coming from elsewhere in the apartment. He studied his growth of beard in the mirror over the sink and ran his hand over the stubble. You'll scare the kid to death.

He dampened his hair and used Shelly's comb on it, lathered his face with a bar of Palmolive soap and shaved, using Shelly's dull razor. Remembering where she used it, in addition to her legs and underarms, caused a bit of swelling between his thighs.

Sam dressed quickly and found Shelly and Annie in the kitchen.

“How do you like it?” Shelly asked as she poured a mug of coffee.

“Hot,” he replied, taking the steaming mug from her hands.

The golden-haired tot studied him seriously as she sat in her high chair, playing with a bowl of cereal. “Are you another one of mommy's friends?” she asked.

Sam tried to ignore the implication of the child's question and stuck out his hand. “Your friend too, I hope. I'm Sam."

The tyke grabbed his index finger and shook it with all her might. “I'm Annie."

“I know, but I'm going to call you Goldilocks. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

“Prettier than my mommy?"

Kid asks tough questions. “You may be when you grow up."

Shelly laughed. “I wondered how you would get out of that one."

“I slept with you last night,” Annie giggled.

Sam looked at Shelly who shrugged her shoulders. “Sometime she wakes up before I do and crawls into bed with me."

“You snore,” Annie continued.

“Do not."

“Do too."

“Don't you like your cereal?” Sam asked, changing the subject.

“She's always been a finicky eater,” Shelly explained.

Sam eyes the box on the table. “Rice Krispies are my favorite. I like to hear them snap, crackle and pop."

“Me too, but they don't taste good."

“Then you won't mind if I eat them,” he said as he took the spoon from her willing hand.

“Ugh, you're right,” he said after he managed to swallow a bite. He glared at Shelly. “The milk is sour. Don't you smell it before serving it to your kid?"

She again shrugged her shoulders. “It should be okay. I just bought it a few days ago."

“Like hell you did."

“Don't get your bowels in an uproar. There's a fast food place around the corner. I'll go for fresh milk while you give the kid her morning bath."

“You're out of you happy mind,” he barked. “I'll get the milk. You bathe Annie."

“Hey, what happened to the guy who said he loved kids?"

“Haven't you heard of child abuse?” His voice was louder than he intended. “In case you haven't noticed, I'm an adult male and Annie is a very attractive female child."

“You planning on doing nasty things to her?"

“No, but it just isn't right."

“Then you go get the milk, child molester. I'll bathe her."

“Mommy, don't fuss at Uncle Sam. I like him."

“I'll be back in a few minutes, Goldilocks,” Sam said as he smiled at the beautiful child. “I like you too, but I don't snore."

“Do too."

“Mommy, I didn't know men can wash dishes,” Annie said as she eyed Sam, standing at the kitchen sink when breakfast was over.

She laughed. “They can, honey, but not many of them do."

“Uncle Sam, will you take me to the park?"

“Honey, Uncle Sam has to go back to his house now,” Shelly said.

“Please, Uncle Sam."

With his eyes, Sam asked if he could stay.

“It's a little neighborhood park a couple of blocks south,” Shelly said, granting her approval.

“Sure, I'll take you to the park, Goldilocks. But would you rather go to the park or go swimming?"

“Mommy, can we get the wading pool out?” Annie asked excitedly.

“No, no, no,” Sam said as he dried and put away the last dish. “I mean go to a real swimming pool."

“Like on TV?"

“Yeah, but it's better ‘cause you can play in it."

“I might drown."

“I won't let anything happen to you. This swimming pool is near my house and it has a kiddy pool with a water slide and everything."

“Where's your house?"

“It's not far. It's in a little town called Dot."

“Can we mommy? Can we, please?"

“I don't know, Annie. We don't want to put Mr., uh..."

“Pond."

“Mr. Pond to any trouble."

“Please, mommy,” Sam said. “I want you both to see my house. Then we'll have lunch in a great little restaurant called the Korner Kafe."

“I thought you said we were going swimming,” Annie pouted.

“We'll spend the whole afternoon swimming, right after we eat lunch."

“Sam,” Shelly said, “I don't think this is a good idea."

“Please, Shelly. I want to show you my place."

“Come on, Uncle Sam,” Annie said as she maneuvered her small body under the tray of the high chair. “Let's go."

Sam scooped the little girl up and swung her high in the air as she squealed her delight. “Goldilocks, I'm not your uncle. How would you like for me to be your daddy?"

The child grew ridged in his hands and her eyes reflected terror. “You're not my daddy. Boyd is."

“Boyd?” Sam asked, turning towards Shelly.

“Boyd Fisher,” Shelly explained. “He and Annie don't get along."

“He's the, uh, friend you told me about last night?"

She nodded.

Sam cradled Annie in his arms. “Then Uncle Sam it is!"

“Yea! Let's go!"

“Sam,” Shelly said. “We'll have to take both cars. I have a baby seat in the back of mine. It's the law."

“We can put it in my car."

“Then you'll have to bring us back."

“My pleasure."

“I haven't worn any of my bathing suits in a year or more. They're all probably too small."

He grinned. “Sounds perfect."

“Funny looking house,” Shelly said as she emerged from Sam's teal Taurus. I love it. “What do you call this design?"

Sam chuckled as he caught up with her and took her arm. “It's an expanded A frame. The large A frame faces the street with smaller A frames attached at right angles."

“I've never seen anything like it."

“Me either. It sure caught my attention. I knew I was going to buy it as soon as I saw it—even before Creasy Green told me the price."

“Creasy Green?” she laughed.

Sam smiled while nodding. “Chubby little fellow who is the local insurance and real estate broker."

“What's that muddy strip from the house to the street?"

He frowned. “Can't seem to get the grass to grow. Last fall the town voted for incorporation. The first thing they did was run county water and sewer lines. When they started building the house, they expected to install a septic tank and dig a well. Connection to county water and sewer was an afterthought. Carl says we need to plant grass again in the fall."

“Carl?"

He chuckled. “I forget you don't know these people. Carl Elliott is the Dollars’ contractor."

“Dollars?"

“I did it again. Tim and Sandy Dollar practically own Dot. They're the ones who are developing Old Lumbermill Road."

“Mommy! Doggie!” Annie squealed as she wrapped her arms around Shelly's leg.

Sam squatted beside the frightened girl. “He's a good little dog, Annie. He belongs to my next-door neighbors, the Nickels.” He whistled. “Here, Lucky. Come on, boy."

Lucky ran towards Sam, but slowed as he approached, lowering his head and wagging his tail. Sam stroked the mixed breed behind the ears. “Lucky, this is Annie. Annie, this is Lucky."

Lucky sat and leaned into Sam's stroking hand. “Give Annie a big smile."

Lucky bared his teeth while wagging his head. It was anything but a menacing gesture. Still holding on to Shelly's leg, Annie tentatively patted the dog's head.

Lucky whined his pleasure and licked Annie's arm.

“Doggie kissed me, mommy,” she said, releasing her mother's leg. She placed her hands on either side of the dog's muzzle and kissed him on top of his head. Lucky stood on his back feet and waddled towards the delighted child, letting his front paws come to rest on her shoulders. He licked her face as Annie wrapped her arms around him.

Annie lifted her smiling face to Shelly. “Can we keep him, mommy?"

Sam stroked Lucky's back as he wrapped the other arm around Annie. “I don't think Lee and James would like that."

“Who are Lee and James?” Annie asked.

“They are the twins who live next door. They're about your age. Lucky is their dog."

“I love you, Lucky,” Annie pouted and the dog barked.

“Wouldn't it be fun to live here, Annie? Then you could play with Lucky any time you like."

“Can we, mommy? Can we live with Uncle Sam?"

“Uncle Sam was joking,” Shelly said as she glared at Sam.

He stood, hugged Shelly and whispered, “Can't blame a guy for trying."

Suddenly, Lucky dashed back towards the house next door. “Doggie gone,” Annie whimpered.

“He'll be back,” Sam promised. “Don't you want to see the inside of my house?

“I want Lucky,” Annie pouted.

Sam took both girls’ hands and started for the porch. “I like the front porch, but there is a big screened porch on the back of the house that's even better. I sometimes eat meals back there."

Annie balked. “Here comes Lucky!” she cried with delight.

The dog slowed as he neared the humans, wagged his tail furiously and dropped a tennis ball at Annie's feet.

“Throw the ball,” Sam said.

“Why?"

“Just do it and see what happens,” Shelly encouraged.