Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (75 page)

Sam sat back down and scratched his name as Shelly and Mrs. White watched. Shelly began to chuckle.

“What's funny?” he asked.

“I didn't know your name was Samson. I just assumed it was Samuel."

He pulled away from the desk to make room for Mrs. White to notarize the signatures and lifted Annie into his arms. “It comes from the Bible, I think.” Turning to Susan, he said, “Mrs. Kimel, I appreciate you working us in like this. I imagine Monday mornings are busy for you."

“Glad I could do it,” she replied. “Speaking of busy, you two have quite a schedule for today."

Sam smiled. “We sure do.” He stretched out his hand. “Thanks again."

As they descended the stairs beside Papa John's Pizza, Shelly said, “That didn't take long. If everything goes well with Mr. Green, we may have time for lunch before meeting with your preacher."

“Don't forget we have an appointment at the clinic for blood tests. You can't get a marriage license without one."

As they crossed the parking lot to the Dollar Building, Shelly asked, “Are you sure they can give us an instant report? I thought blood samples had to be sent off to a lab."

Sam held the plate glass door open with his foot. “Mary Lou has her own lab. The receptionist said it'll take about an hour after we provide the samples. It should be ready by the time we have the insurance thing settled."

Annie played with blocks in the waiting room and was not happy that her adults returned so soon. Her castle was far from complete. Reluctantly she let Sam carry her to the second floor office of Creasy Greene.

“Mr. Green,” Sam began when they sat in the indicated chairs on the opposite side of the pudgy man's desk, “Shelly and I are getting married next Monday. I want to take out a term life insurance policy for at least five million dollars."

Green smiled broadly. “That's a heap of insurance, Sam, but I suppose a little angel like Annie deserves the protection. Sam, do you understand the difference between term, universal and whole life?"

Sam nodded. “I suspect term is the best I can afford right now. I plan to convert to whole life later."

“Probably a good plan,” Green said, pulling a worksheet from his desk drawer. “How much insurance do you want, Miss Brooks?"

Shelly laughed. “We aren't buying insurance on my life, Mr. Green."

Green looked surprised. “You should consider it,” he said. “If you should die, God forbid, Sam will have many extra expenses with no funds to cover them. You should at least have enough insurance to cover burial costs."

Shelly shifted uneasily in her chair. The concept of her own mortality made her uncomfortable. “We'll think about it,” she said.

Green turned his attention to Sam as Annie slid out of Sam's lap and clung to Shelly's leg. “Where do you work, Sam?"

“I'm a mechanic with Trojan Trucks in Charlotte."

Green nodded. “Do they offer employee insurance programs?"

“They offer medical coverage."

“How about life insurance?"

“I ... I don't know. I never thought about it."

“Excuse me a moment,” Green said, pulling a thick telephone directory from the credenza behind his desk. He thumbed through the pages, placed his left index finger strategically on a page and dialed the number.

After a brief conversation he replaced the receiver in its cradle and smiled at Sam. “They offer excellent group coverage. You can get a whole life policy through them for what a term policy will cost if you buy it from me."

“Mommy,” Annie whined. “I need to potty."

Sam sputtered. “You're advising me to buy insurance through my employer? Doesn't that leave you out in the cold?"

Green smiled as he put away the worksheet. “You can get basic coverage for Miss Brooks also. Why does everybody think all used car salesmen and insurance brokers are crooks?"

“Mommy!"

“Down the hall, Miss Brooks—third door on the right."

“Thank you, Mr. Green,” Shelly said as she lifted Annie and headed for the door.

“I can't tell you how much I appreciate your advice, Mr. Green,” Sam said as he also stood and reached across the desk to shake hands.

Green clasped his hand and did not immediately release it. “There's one more thing, Sam.” He moved around the desk, placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and walked him to the door. “If it's the little girl's welfare you are concerned about, you need long-term disability insurance more than life insurance. It's not pleasant to think about, but, statistically speaking, it is more likely you will suffer a long-term disability than death during Annie's formative years. Life insurance won't help a bit if you're permanently disabled."

“Do you offer such a policy?"

Green patted Sam's back. “Of course, but so does your employer."

“I don't like your preacher, Sam,” Shelly said as they drove to Charlotte.

“Mack? He's a great guy."

“He's a damn pervert. He couldn't take his eyes off my tits."

Sam chuckled. “I thought you liked showing off your magnificent body."

“He's a damn preacher, for crying out loud."

“He's a man, too. Hell, Delilah, with that extra low scooped blouse you are wearing, even a blind man would be attracted to your cleavage."

“You don't like the way I'm dressed?"

“I love the way you are dressed. So did Mack."

“Still..."

“Let's don't argue, honey."

“I'm not arguing. I just feel like we've wasted the morning."

“Wasted? We've had a great morning! We have the prenuptial agreement exactly the way you wanted it. We saved a ton of money on life insurance, thanks to Creasy Green's honesty. Our blood test is complete. Mack has agreed to perform our ceremony in the backyard Monday morning. The Borders agreed to be witnesses, and now we are on the way to Charlotte to buy rings, get our marriage license and purchase the insurance you want. How much better could it be?"

“I didn't sleep well last night."

“Thighs?"

“Maybe—I don't know. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

“I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Delilah."

“Why do you insist on calling me Delilah? You know I don't like it."

“It's a beautiful name. I just can't help myself. You have everything else your way. Give me this much."

“You got your way with the preacher,” she reminded him.

“Uh oh,” he said as he applied the brakes. Looks like a wreck.” He eased to the shoulder of the road and craned his neck for a better view. “A car rammed a telephone pole,” he reported. “Maybe I better see if I can help,” he continued, opening the door without waiting for a response.

Shelly waited impatiently for a few minutes, unable to see what was going on. She pulled Annie from the child safety seat, balanced the little girl on her hip and walked along the shoulder of the road until she found a spot between waiting cars where she could see the rescue activity.

I wonder if that gadget is what they call ‘the Jaws of Life?’ she thought as men worked on the driver-side door. Finally they managed to wedge the door open, but Shelly could see little of the occupant as men crammed their heads and half their bodies inside the car.

The curious were surrounding the wrecked vehicle as an ambulance arrived. Shelly scanned the crowd, and, as they parted for the paramedics, she saw Sam, standing beside the car, naked to the waist, handing his shirt to someone closer to the accident victim.

She walked back to Sam's car, strapped Annie in the kiddy seat and continued to wait.

“You're going to a jewelry store dressed like that?” she complained when Sam returned.

“Wal-Mart is just around the corner. I'll buy a new shirt."

“What happened?"

“The lady said a kid ran out in front of her. She swerved to miss him and ran into the pole."

“I mean to your shirt."

He smiled. “The airbag didn't automatically deflate like it's supposed to. The rescue squad punched a little hole in the bottom of it, but then the bag split apart like an explosion. Her blouse snagged on the bag somehow and ripped off her body. She wasn't wearing a bra and was terribly embarrassed."

“So you gave her your shirt,” she said, laughing.

“You think it's funny?"

“You're a mess, Samson Pond. I've heard of good Samaritans giving the needy the shirt off their backs, but this is the first time I've actually seen it happen."

“Why did you bring the twins again, damn it?” Shelly asked as she stretched out on the chaise lounge. “You know I don't like babysitting other people's brats."

Sam continued watching the children playing in the kiddy pool. “Annie was so disappointed that we spent all day Saturday moving your junk to my house. I thought this would partially make up for it. She really likes the twins, Delilah."

Shelly sighed. What the hell. Let him call me Delilah if it pleases him.

“How are your thighs this afternoon?"

“Right now they feel pretty good. Being in the water seems to help."

“I wouldn't complain if you quit that job, you know."

“Sam, don't start."

“I'm not very imaginative, but you are, Delilah. Can't you come up with a hot way to end your performance that isn't so hard on your thighs?"

She rolled her head towards him and saw the serious expression on his face. “Do lesbians turn you on?"

“Where did that come from?"

“Just answer the question."

“I don't have a problem with the idea that some ladies prefer sex with women instead of men, if that's what you're asking."

“That's not what I'm asking. Does watching lesbians in action turn you on?"

“I don't know, Shelly. I've never seen lesbians in action."

“Well, think about it. Picture two naked gals fondling and kissing each other all over their luscious bodies."

Sam closed his eyes and Shelly watched the crotch of his bathing trunks begin to swell. She laughed. “You don't need to answer. I've been thinking of doing something with another woman. I know how far the law will allow me to go with a man, but I'm not sure about the limits with a woman."

“Want to know what I was visualizing?"

“Yeah."

“You and that red-haired stripper."

“Carmen?"

“I don't remember her name. Anyway, you both come on the stage fully clothed."

“The customers would never go for that."

“You want to hear me or not?"

“Go on."

“You're both wearing mini skirts, high heels, hose, panties—not g-strings or thongs—silk blouses with plunging necklines and bras."

“Something like the customers might encounter at the office or in a store?"

“That's it. You hug and kiss—slowly at first, then with increasing passion. Your hands explore each other's completely clothed bodies. Occasionally a hand slips under a skirt or inside a blouse. While the kissing and fondling continues, you slowly undress each other. Eventually, you're both completely nude. One lowers the other to the stage floor and you assume the traditional sixty-nine position. The lights go out. Perhaps blinding lights pointed at the audience come on. The two of you moan and groan loudly. Perhaps you call out each other's names. Then silence. The lights come on and the stage is empty."

She grinned. “I thought you said you have no imagination. I'll be damned if you didn't turn me on. The finish won't work, though. The guys like an interactive conclusion."

“Okay. Suppose the lights come on and the two of you are standing in a tight, passionate embrace. You slowly pick up your clothes, making sure the customers see all the good parts, but you don't put the clothes back on. You wipe your crotches with the panties, toss them into the audience and exit the stage, arm in arm."

“Hi guys!"

Startled, they looked up into the smiling faces of Tim and Sandra Dollar.

“Mind if we join you for just a second?” Sandra asked as Tim dragged two deck chairs towards them.

“Tomorrow's the big day, is it?” Sandra asked as she sat down, pleased that Sam's gaze locked on the crotch of her one-piece black bathing suit.

“Yes,” Shelly replied, “but how did you know? We haven't sent out any announcements. We want it to be a quiet little ceremony."

Tim laughed and threw up his hands. “We're not trying to wrangle an invitation, Shelly. The preacher announced it in church this morning."

Shelly glared at Sam.

“You can't keep something like that a secret in Dot, Shelly,” Sandra said, patting and then squeezing Shelly's thigh. “My,” she continued, “you're beginning to get a nice tan."

“And the skin cancer that goes along with it,” Shelly replied, again glaring at Sam.

Tim coughed. “Shelly, Dudette and I have an idea we want to run by you."

“Shelly,” Sandra interrupted, continuing to massage the inside of the stripper's thigh, “we're thinking of opening an exotic club right here in Dot, perhaps on some land we already own halfway between the traffic light and the Charlotte City limits."

“It won't be purely a strip club, like the Crazy Cat,” Tim explained. “We're thinking of a swanky supper club with a large cover charge and one super hot performance each night."

“As hot as the law allows,” Sandra emphasized. “Tim thinks we should have one or two nights reserved for lesbian acts and another night or two for male homosexual stage performances."

“What do you think?” Tim asked, leaning towards Shelly.

Shelly sat up, brushing Sandy's hand from her thigh. “I'd forget the lesbian and homosexual thing. I just don't think that would fly. Customers would become confused. I'd keep the evening performance focused on traditional male heterosexually oriented performances. Maybe you could end the supper hour with risqué stand-up comics. Then charge extra for the strip show. That way you could attract couples to the dinner and first show and encourage the perverts to show up for the final show."

“I like it,” Tim said.

“Hush, Dude,” Sandra admonished. “You interrupted."

“I was just going to add that you might consider a lunchtime promotion geared towards heterosexual women with a male stripper show following the meal."

“Hot damn!” Tim said, clapping his hands together. “That's the ticket, Dudette."