65 comments/ 201460 views/ 44 favorites Blunder By: JimBob44 Steve Gregg was a large man, and as such, most people assumed he was stupid. Most people looked at the craggy face nestled on top of his broad muscular shoulders and assumed 'typical jock, all muscle and no brains.' His quiet demeanor did little to dissuade most from the misconception they had of him. His job as a 'grunt,' a hard working laborer with a construction company also did little to enhance his image in the eyes of those that met him. But the truth was, Steve really didn't mind. When he was younger, he had cared what others had thought of him, but after being the butt of a few cruel jokes when he did attempt to fit in, Steve Gregg decided he really didn't care what others thought of him. Until he met Jennifer. At six foot five, and three hundred pounds, most women were frightened of him. Jennifer was six foot one and wasn't intimidated by his size or his rough face or rough skin. They met at the counter of Poncho's Take Out Mexican restaurant. The twenty five year old was attracted to the nineteen-year-old girl, and she was equally attracted to him. They sat on the concrete bench outside of Poncho's and ate their meals out of the flimsy Styrofoam containers nod talked and laughed. He worked up the courage to ask for her phone number and called her that same night. Her mother, a rather short and dowdy woman simpered and fussed until her stepfather none too gently ordered Margaret to sit. The stepfather was also short in stature, but quite stout from the numerous beers he drank. Steve assumed that Jennifer's height must come from her father's side of the family, but Margaret assured him that Jennifer's dad was of average height and build. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" Jim thundered. "Average build? Huh?" Margaret paled and cowered before her husband. All in all, a thoroughly uncomfortable evening. Steve vowed to himself and to Jennifer that they would never be like Margaret and Jim. Her father was also a drunkard; seems Margaret could really pick them. Throughout the dinner, Leo cursed Margaret, or Maureen, or whatever that bitch's name was, and all other women. After a few months of dating, Jennifer asked Steve if she could spend the night at his apartment. He readily agreed and after some very heavy petting on the couch, she took his hand and led him down the hall to his bedroom. Her nude body delighted him. Her forty-two inch D breasts with their pale pink nipples were a feast for his eyes, as was her delightful narrow waist and her 'out tie' belly button. Her thick blonde profusion gave truth to the fact that she was definitely a natural blonde. Desire was evident in her puffy pussy lips sticking out of the thick fur, slick with her excitement. He watched as she smiled and turned to get into the bed. Her ample backside beckoned to him, and he answered. "Steve, what are you doing?" she squealed and laughed as he roared and growled and then delved his tongue into her pussy and anus from behind. She marveled at the sight of his muscular body and looked with wonder and a little apprehension at the sight of his erect cock. It was proportional to the rest of him; on anyone else it would have been quite large. "You were a virgin?" he asked in wonder. "I just assumed, someone as beautiful as you..." They were married two months later and Steven Junior came along seven months afterward. James followed a year later, and then came Grace, the absolute light of Steve's life. ^^^ The leadership of Polk Construction, where Steve had quietly, steadily worked for fifteen years, was transferred to Tommy Johnson, the owner's son. Steve had liked, enjoyed working with Donald Polk, even had drunk a few beers with the man, and when Donnie Polk was killed in Afghanistan, had cried real tears with the man. He did not like Tommy, though. Tommy was just like those brash, arrogant kid Steve had gone to school with; thought their parents' money made them special, privileged. He kept his feelings to himself and hoped that Tommy would continue in the same line his father in law had established, that of giving great service at a fair price. Tommy, however, was not Don. Don's daughter, Abigail Johnson, a mere slip of a girl, was absent from the construction sites. She had grown up playing in the dirt and sand and mud of the construction sites, had used the cast off bricks and lumber to construct forts and doll houses and had thrown a major fit when she found out that going to kindergarten would prevent her from hanging around the dirt and grime and heavy equipment she loved. But she was now locked away in the office, doing the books for Polk Construction while her husband bossed and bullied the men around. Steve smiled as she smiled widely at him and waved as he stopped off to pick up his pay envelope. She had been her father's 'Date' to Steve's wedding (Carla Polk was confined to bed due to Muscular Dystrophy, the whole reason Don had retired. Jennifer and Steve had likewise attended Abigail's wedding and amid much good-natured laughter, Steve had danced with the five foot two inch girl. There were several photographs of the wedding that Don had proudly displayed in his office, but he delighted in drawing the visitor's attention to two photographs in particular; one that showed Steve from the rear, it looked as if he were standing alone, then from the front of Steve and tiny Abigail, laughing and dancing. For the hundredth time, he wondered what she saw in Tommy; she was bright, and in his eyes, beautiful. Her hair was a light brown and she wore it loose around her small face. Her green eyes were large, intelligent. Her mouth was generous, full, begging to be kissed. She had been cursed with the Polk nose, a large bulb of a nose. Tommy was brash and arrogant and self-centered. Even Don had once confided to Steve he wondered why Abigail had fallen for Tommy. "I mean, sure he's good looking enough, and his folks got money, but, for God's sake!" Don had slurred. "Little piss ant ain't never worked a day in his life!" "Yeah, makes you wonder," Steve agreed. "I mean, damn it, she needs a real man, an honest man, you know, someone like you, Steve!" Don went on. ""Yeah, damn shame I'm already spoken for," Steve laughed. When she married, Steve was thirty years old, happily married and the father of three beautiful and rambunctious kids, as well as the proud owner of two dogs and a scrawny kitty cat that Jennifer had taken pity on. The dogs delighted in chasing the cat around the house and Puff delighted in 'attacking' the unsuspecting dogs whenever she could. His life was perfect. ^^^ The Holiday Party for Polk Construction was the highlight of the year. Don Polk hosted it at Bentley Country Club and spared no expense. It was a black tie affair and the wives donned their best evening gowns. A big band played and the champagne flowed freely. Bonuses were handed out, awards presented, and door prizes were distributed frequently. Almost no one left the party empty handed. Even in 2001, when the construction business was hitting a real slump, Don still went all out for the men that worked for him. That was the last year that Carla Polk had been able to attend; Steve still had fond memories of her smiling face. Her speech was horribly slurred, but she still insisted on telling Steve how much she and Don valued his hard work and dedication to Polk Construction. Tommy saw no reason to host such a party; it was one of the rare occasions that Don came out of 'retirement' and forced the brash young man to go through with the festivities. The band wasn't top-notch, the food wasn't the normal prime rib and the champagne was a lesser quality. Jennifer looked stunning in her red dress. The spaghetti straps emphasized her strong shoulders and light tan. The low cut likewise emphasized her forty-six Double D breasts (Breast-feeding three children had increased their size). The clingy material showed that the mother of three hit the gym twice a week, and her long legs looked ravishing in the glittery stockings she wore. Tommy dourly made the rounds with Abigail, stopping at each table and greeting those he sincerely felt were far beneath him. He also resented having to spend any of the company's profits on these cretins and minions. For once, he let Abigail do most of the talking; he didn't want to waste his time. His eyes lit up, though, when he stopped at the table where Jennifer Gregg sat. He looked at the impressive breasts the woman sported and when she and her husband stood to dance, her long legs equally captivated him, as did her tight backside. After the meal and a few speeches and a few awards, Tommy put on the charm and asked Steve if he could 'cut a rug' with the charming Mrs. Gregg. "Sure, but only if I get a dance with your beautiful wife," Steve affably agreed. Yeah, whatever," Tommy sneered in Abigail's direction. Abigail smiled widely as Steve asked for a dance and the two mismatched dancers smiled and laughed at the shouts and hoots of their peers. "Use it for whatever you want," Steve easily said to his wife when she asked him what he planned to do with the three thousand dollar bonus Don Polk had given him for the fifteen years he'd worked for Polk Construction. She was on fire when they sent the baby sitter home that evening; Steve didn't even have time to get his tuxedo trousers off and she was straddling his erection. After he'd come into her clutching pussy, she sucked him back up to erection and demanded he take her from behind. They both liked this position; Steve liked it because he could play with her swinging breasts and she liked it because he was able to go deeper than in any other position. ^^^ He had a horrible headache one morning, early spring. The knowledge that it was pollen related did little to ease the headache, so he went to the office and asked Abigail if he could knock off early. Normally, he would have asked Tommy (and most likely would have been denied) but Tommy was nowhere to be found. Even his fancy BMW convertible wasn't in the parking lot. "Yeah, sure," she said with genuine concern. "Want a couple of aspirin?" "Nah, but thanks," he said wearily. "Been taking that headache powder stuff, but it ain't doing nothing against this headache." "Well, okay, go home, hope you feel better," she said and continued wrestling with the ledgers. "Problem?" he asked, noticing her thoughtful frown. "Expenses and materials," she laughed mirthlessly. "They don't add up, but they never do." Jennifer wasn't home when he got home and he tiredly climbed the stairs to their bedroom. On the bed were a couple of her bras and panties. Despite the headache, Steve smiled at the sight of her sexy underwear; he truly loved his wife. He nudged the undergarments to the side and stretched out on the bed. She screamed a short scream when she opened the door to the bedroom and saw her husband lying there. She then had to laugh at herself; his truck was sitting in its usual spot under the carport. "Hey, good looking," he smiled wearily. "Where you been?" "Um, at the gym," she said. "What're you doing home?" "Bitch of a headache," he said. "Oh, okay, well, I need to take a shower real quick," she said and dashed into their bathroom. That night, she rebuffed his advances, quite unusual for her, but he figured she was probably stiff and sore from the gym and didn't push it. Tommy showed up the next morning, yelled some inane orders, and then left for a business lunch. A truck backed up to deliver some bags of concrete and got stuck in the soft earth, fifty yards away from the storage shed. Steve walked over and assisted in unloading the material, and then helped the driver and his assistant shove a couple of boards under the wheels of the large truck. After the truck left, he noticed the invoice for the delivered materials lying in the dirt and picked it up. "Johnson Materials," was emblazoned across the top. Steve knew that Don didn't like Jack Johnson, Tommy's father; thought the man was a blow-hard and a crook. "Well, I suppose Sonny Boy buys from Daddy now," Steve said and brought the invoice into the office for Abigail. "Not another headache, huh?" she asked sincerely. "No, not for me," he smiled and handed her the invoice slip. "Maybe for you; this came with the concrete." "What?" she asked and read the invoice. "We didn't order any concrete." "Well, they delivered fifty sacks of it," Steve said and prepared to leave the office. "This can't be right," Abigail said aloud and flipped back through a book. She typed rapidly on her keyboard and looked again at the invoice, then at the ledger. "We didn't order this, but it looks like we've already paid for it," she mused aloud. "Well, if it's already paid for, might as well use it," Steve said and again prepared to leave the office. "Anything else come with it?" she asked and looked at the computer screen. "Nope, just fifty sacks of concrete," Steve said. "Must be an error," she said. "Why, what's wrong?" Steve asked. "Well, fifty sacks, at forty seven a sack is..." she pulled out a calculator. "Twenty three fifty," Steve said. "Yep," she said. "But we've paid them thirty five hundred; so, where's the rest of the stuff?" Her small face was wrinkled, deep in thought as Steve left the office to assist in moving the heavy sacks from the loading area to the storage shed. A few of the men asked why they'd bought fifty sacks when they already had close to that many in the large shed. Tommy still wasn't back from his business lunch when the workday ended; Abigail did not look up from the ledgers or computer screen when Steve waved goodbye through the office window. Jennifer wasn't home when he got home, so he went and picked up the kids at the day-care center she used when she went to the grocery store, or to the gym, or 'just needed a little time.' He left a message on her cell phone letting her know that he had the kids, and on a whim, drove over to Don Polk's house. The kids crawled all over the bed to the delight of Carla Polk and James seemed fascinated by her mumbled garble. Steve smiled; he could tell she was trying to say 'pretty kids.' Don and he shared a few beers and a few memories, and finally Steve gathered up his brood and told Carla sincerely that he loved her. "What?" Jennifer tersely answered her cell phone. "Hey, just letting you know we're on our way home," he said happily, not noticing the short and snappy response. "Fine," she said and hung up. They had a fight that night; Jennifer shrilly telling him how she didn't appreciate being 'checked on' whenever she went out, and Steve, poor Steve, not knowing what he'd done wrong, apologized. The next morning, they made up with very energetic sex and Steve showed up for work nearly an hour late, tired, but smiling. Tommy seemed to be quite agitated about Steve's tardiness and threatened to dock him a day's wages. "Fine, I could use a day off," Steve said, thinking about having even more sex with his beautiful wife. "Just get your fucking lazy ass to work, ass hole," Tommy snapped then prepared to leave the work site. "Hey, I don't appreciate that," Steve said, his good mood disappearing. "Tough fucking shit," Tommy sneered and roared off to the next work site. Steve had been in a real hurry to get to work, so forgot to bring his lunch. He jumped into his truck and prepared to drive to a local fast-food restaurant. He saw Tommy's BMW sitting outside of a seedy motel and grimaced slightly in distaste. But his grimace turned to rage when he saw Jennifer's little Mazda in the same parking spot. Eight nails from the back of his truck were carefully positioned and he drove back to work, lunch forgotten. "What a miserable day," Jennifer told him at dinnertime. "I had to get four new tires; all four of mine went flat. Can you believe?" "All for?" he asked, incredulous. "What? Were they slashed or something?" "No, nails," she said and blew on the hot potato. "Wow where'd you pick up the nails? Maybe we can get them to pay for the new tires," he said. "Uh, well, I could have picked up the nails anywhere," she said quickly. "Well, yeah, I mean, I pick up nails all the time," he agreed, "But four of them? Were the kids with you when it happened?" "No, they were at the day-care," she said and changed the subject. Tommy barked orders, made meaningless threats, then marched off to go to the next work site. Steve gave him a thirty-minute head start, then jumped into his truck. A fifty-pound sack of concrete, courtesy of Johnson Materials, a funnel and Tommy's precious little BMW found itself incapacitated. The mechanic at the BMW dealership could not find any logical reason that concrete would have found its way into the gas tank, air filter, oil filter and manifold of the expensive luxury car. Tommy told Abigail he had been across the street, at a red light, when the car started acting up and that's how he wound up in the parking lot of the Dew Drop Inn. Jack Johnson smiled at the tall, good-looking man in the expensive suit. They talked about orders, delivery dates and sites and finally came to an agreement that Johnson Materials would provide DCA International with their best price for any goods purchased from Johnson Materials. "You really should have your lawyers look over the contract," the tall man advised, but Jack waved him off and scribbled out his signature. "All right," the man shrugged and added his own signature to the contract. The Notary he'd brought with him added his stamp and signature to the document and Jack's secretary, a giggling girl with bright carrot orange hair and pneumatic breasts flounced her way out of the office and made duplicates of the contract. ^^^ Jennifer made some excuse about the expensive new necklace and matching bracelet, but after all, Steve had given her the three thousand dollar bonus. Steve smiled and graciously accepted the blowjob of gratitude. She claimed the ring that popped up a few days later was nothing but glass; why was he making such a big deal out of nothing? "Tommy, you'll have to wait another week," Jack said. "But as soon as DCA pays us, I'll order some more. Abigail met the Johnson truck outside of the storage shed and sent them away; Polk had a new supplier and would not be accepting any shipments from Johnson. Tommy was off on one of his 'meetings' but was livid with Abigail when his father called him and yelled at him for turning down the shipment of reinforced steel bars. "Gee, honey bunny," Abigail said when Tommy called her. "I thought I told you, we have another provider for materials and they're a whole lot cheaper than Johnson." "How in the fuck can they be cheaper?" Tommy screamed. "Dad gives us the stuff at cost!" "I don't know, but the last shipment of concrete from Johnson was seventy dollars a sack; DCA is forty six," Abigail countered. "Sure, I'd be happy to send you the reinforced steel bars," Jack, said smoothly. He was sitting on twelve thousand pounds of it. "Just as soon as I get paid for the CDX boards and the concrete. "I really wish you had read the contract," the tall man said into the telephone. "Our pay cycle is once a quarter. Now, I need the twelve thousand pounds shipped no later than tomorrow." Jack seethed, but sent the truck out. He nearly had a stroke, though, when the tall man called back and calmly told him he had a 'lowest price guarantee,' and since Johnson was going to charge Polk Construction one dollar, two cents a pound, DCA was not going to pay dollar eighteen a pound. Blunder "How's eighty seven cents a pound sound to you?" the man asked. "How's 'Fuck You' sound?" Jack roared into the phone. "Fine, I'll send it back," the man said and hung up. A twelve hundred dollar loss was a lot better than a ten thousand five hundred dollar loss so Jack called the man back and agreed to let DCA unload the steel bars. "You want how many feet of cable?" Jack asked, incredulous. "Five hundred thousand feet, category five or better, non-aluminum," the man said. "Okay, it'll take a couple of weeks," Jack, said. "By the way, how much longer before the pay cycle's up?" "The fifteenth," the man said. "Okay, I'll expect the cable by Friday." "Friday!" Jack said. "Did you hear me? I said it would take me a couple of weeks!" "Did you hear me?" the man said coldly. "I expect the cable here no later than Friday." Seventy five thousand dollars, plus another seven thousand in 'Rush Shipment' fees and Jack Johnson was as close to bankrupt as he could be. He actually groaned when the man called for aluminum reinforced T-Bars. "I really wish you had read the contract," the man said, almost sympathetically. "No, Tommy," Abigail said forcefully when her husband demanded that they loan Johnson Materials some cash to help his father until DCA International paid them for the materials they'd ordered. "We're stretched to the breaking point on the bank building on Hermosa, plus we've got that shopping strip off of Armstrong. We're just making payroll until we get paid. Payroll tp our men is top priority." "Problem?" Steve said from the doorway. "No, stupid cocksucker," Tommy spat. "Tommy!" Abigail gasped, horrified. "It's all right Abigail," Steve laughed. "I'd have to care what he thinks for his little name calling to actually hurt me." Tommy muttered some threats under his breath as he brushed past Steve but Steve waved away Abigail's apologies. He held out an invoice for the electrical cable that DCA International had just delivered and she thanked him. ^^^ Jennifer was stretched out on the motel bed, enjoying Tommy's attention to her calves and thighs. He wasn't nearly as well endowed as Steve, but he did like to take his time on each square inch of Jennifer's body, particularly her large breasts. She had shaved her blonde bush for him; Steve had believed that it was for his benefit, and Tommy had finally reached her pubic mound when the harsh, loud knocking came at the door. "U.S. Marshall, please open the door," a harsh male voice demanded and Tommy complied. Jennifer screamed as Steve walked in right behind the man, digital camera clicking away. "Consider yourself served," the U.S. Marshall barked as he thrust a folded sheaf of papers at Jennifer. "Petition for divorce on the grounds of adultery," Steve said calmly as he took a couple pictures of Tommy cowering by the door, clad in his leopard print micro-briefs. "Cute panties," Steve said to Tommy as he left the motel room. Tommy and Jennifer screamed and cursed at each other as they dressed, any sexual energy having dissipated the moment the U.S. Marshall had begun hammering on their door. Neither one knew what to do, and neither one was in the least bit concerned about the other's troubles as they were too busy worrying about their own problems. "Son, I am so sorry," Don said as Steve showed him the pictures. "Nah, don't worry about it," Steve said. "I mean, yeah, I'm hurt, but I kind of suspected it when she started showing up with jewelry I didn't buy her, and wearing panties and bras I ain't never seen. I mean, the clues were there all along. I just don't know what to do about Abigail, though." "If the shoe was on the other foot, what would you want Abigail to do?" Don asked. "Would you want her to tell you, or keep it to herself?" "I guess I'd want to know," Steve admitted. James was still fascinated by Carla's grunts and gurgles and she smiled as Steve and her husband came back into the room. Grace played with Carla's long hair, and Steven Junior tried to find something to watch on her ceiling mounted television. "Had enough of these animals?" Steve asked as he began trying to round them up. "No, more, more," Carla tried to tell him and he smiled, a little sadly at her. "Okay, Mrs. Polk, I'll try to bring them more often," he promised. "He's a good boy," Carla grunted and gurgled to her husband when Steve left. "Loves you, that's for sure," Don agreed. "I told you to read the contract," the tall man said. "I expect the aluminum bars by the end of the day today, or I'll be forced to exercise the assumption of ownership clause." "What?" Jack gasped. "It's on the seventh page, with your initials that you'd read and understood the wording on that page," the man said. "You put your initials on all twelve pages of the contract, signifying that you'd read and agreed to all terms within the contract." The seventh page did state that if Johnson Materials were, for any reason whatsoever, unable to fulfill any order, DCA International would assume ownership of Johnson Materials, as well as any and all assets of Johnson Materials, as well as all legal debts and accounts receivable on the following business day. "I would also advise you to read the eighth page very carefully," the man said and hung up. ^^^ Abigail cried bitterly as Steve sadly showed her the pictures of a cowering Tommy trying to hide behind the motel door. "I kind of figured he was like this," she finally coughed out. "I mean, I know the only reason he married me was because of Daddy's money, but..." "Then why'd you marry him?" Steve asked, baffled. "Look at me, Steve," she spat bitterly. "I'm fucking ugly!" "What?" he asked, surprised. "No you're not!" "Steve, Steve, you're the only one that ever said I was beautiful," she laughed without smiling. "But, Abigail, you are beautiful," Steve protested. "Any girl that can run a backhoe's pretty damned beautiful if you ask me!" "You really do think so, don't you?" she smiled at him and he nodded his head yes and smiled back. "Okay, I suppose you have a good lawyer," she said and he handed her his younger brother's business card. By the time Abigail arrived at the three-story home she and Tommy were living in, he'd regained most of his swagger and bravado. "See if you can find yourself a man to put up with your ugly ass," he sneered as she calmly packed a few items she did not want to chance losing. "No problem," she said. "Good luck affording the two thousand a month this place is costing us. By the way, you no longer work at Polk Construction" "No problem," he laughed. "And the money you'd tried to squirrel away?" she continued," That's been frozen by the bank until we can get it settled where that money came from and who has legal rights to it." "You fucking low life, deformed cunt," he hissed angrily. It was nearly three hundred thousand dollars that he'd skimmed from Polk Construction. "And your credit cards have all been cancelled," she went on and carried the large suitcase to the door. "You fucking ugly bitch!" he screamed and charged her. The pepper spray did its job well and Tommy grunted and thrashed on the floor in agony. Abigail let out her breath the moment she left the house and leaned against the heavy door. She smirked at the ruined BMW convertible as she put her suitcase into the back of her Polk Construction pick-up truck and drove to her parents' home. ^^^ Jennifer tried to reconcile with Steve, tried to reason with him, and when that failed, tried to threaten him. She'd also tried to contact Tommy, but his cell phone had been turned off. The tall man and is lawyer were at the office of Johnson Materials at seven o'clock Monday morning and by nine o'clock that evening, the transfer of ownership and all of Johnson's assets had been completed. Denise proved to be much more than just bright red hair and massive breasts as Michael Gregg garnered much information from her regarding the bank accounts and bank loans That Jack Johnson had. "You are not going to evict my mother from her home, are you?" Tommy angrily hissed at Steve. This was on Tuesday morning, the day after DCA International had assumed ownership of Johnson Materials. Steve's lawyer, Michael Gregg, was showing an ashen Penelope Johnson the legal documents. Jack was nowhere to be found. "According to the mortgage chattel, it was purchased after the formation of Johnson Materials and Jack Johnson is the primary owner," Steve said calmly. "Therefore, under the conditions in the contract Jack Johnson signed with DCA International, it now belongs to DCA International. But I'm not a hard man. I'll give her until the end of the week to find her a new place to live. Hey, how about with you? Don't you have a real nice three story house you're living in all by yourself?" "Fuck you," Tommy said as coldly as he could. "Nah, but, not bad for a 'stupid cock sucker,' huh?" Steve laughed. ^^^ DCA International delivered the materials to Polk Construction directly to the work sites, thus eliminating the need for the large storage shed. The former offices of Johnson Materials were slightly more upscale than the old office of Polk Construction, so Polk Construction relocated to the building. "I want to get rid of her," Abigail hissed to Steve as they cuddled on the large leather sofa in her office. "Who, Denise?" he asked. "Why?" God, she drives me crazy, all tits and no brains," she hissed. "That's not true and you know it," he laughed. "Okay, I'm Jealous, okay?" she laughed and he kissed her again. "Nothing to be jealous about," he reassured her. "By the way, what's 'DCA' stand for?" she asked and gently, but forcefully pushed his hands away from her rear end. She always hated her butt, thought it was too large. "Don, Carla, and Abigail," Steve admitted. "Three of the most beautiful, wonderful people I've ever met." She gritted her teeth as he again fondled her buttocks. "Leave that alone!" she hissed. "No!" he hissed back. "It's too damned beautiful not to touch!" ^^^ "I don't know," Jennifer tearfully admitted to her lawyer. "I mean, you remember when you was in high school? The popular kids? They'd all be over by their corvettes and you just wanted to be able to go over there and hang out with them? Well, that's kind of how Tommy made me feel, like I was finally getting to hang out with the cool kids." ^^^ Steve agreed to joint custody, but would not allow his children to be in the house with Jennifer's drunken stepfather or father. The judge agreed that this would not be in the children's best interest. Jennifer was trapped, though. She did not have a job and, on the grounds of adultery, could not request alimony. So her time with her children was limited to mostly daytime hours. This was limited as well; Jennifer was looking for employment during the day, instead of fucking around. Tommy and Abigail's divorce was less amicable; Tommy's attorney tried to block every single motion that Abigail's attorney presented. Finally the judge tired of the bickering and made both sides laid their cards on the table. Abigail cheerfully offered to give Tommy the house and his BMW, even though it had been a wedding present from her to him, in exchange for no spousal support. "It's a good offer," his attorney hissed to him. "She could be suing for spousal support equal to...." "The fucking house's in foreclosure and the beamer don't fucking run, ass wipe," Tommy hissed back. As Abigail was able to provide the paper trail to the nearly three hundred thousand that Tommy had stashed away, it was deemed to be the sole property of Polk Construction. ^^^ The minister married Steve and Abigail in her mother's bedroom. The ceremony was telecast onto the large screen television in the back yard for all the employees of DCA International and Polk Construction and both Abigail and Steve laughed out loud when the loud cheer went up from the back yard as they kissed. Another loud cheer went up when Steve bent over and kissed his new mother with love and tenderness. The crowd cheered again when the new bride and groom stepped outside and the music began. Steve and Abigail danced to the good-natured hoots and cheers of their friends and family. Steve refused to be the boss of Polk Construction; delegating that to his wife instead. He much preferred being outside, getting hot and sweaty and dirty. Denise proved to be quite efficient at the helm of DCA International but made no move without clearing it with Abigail first. Don came out of retirement a month after Carla passed away in her sleep. Steve was one of her pallbearers, a position he held with pride and dignity. Six months after their wedding, Abigail knelt by the grave of her mother and promised that the baby in her belly would have her mother's name, Carl if it were a boy and Carla if it were a girl. The End.