87 comments/ 97909 views/ 65 favorites Boston to Birmingham Ch. 01 By: qhml1 All right, all you lawyers, students of the law, or just plain nitpickers, listen up. I don't know shit about law, I drive a forklift for a living. The part of writing fiction I love is just that, it's fiction. I don't know if Alabama even has a three strike law, but for the sake of this story it does. Read it as what it is, escapism. ............................................. The little girl was squirming on her lap, making it pretty hard to put her hair up in the French braid she loved so much. She had never seen a five year old with so much hair. "Crystal Anne! Stop, right this minute, or we're going to be late for church. What in the world is wrong with you?" "Granny, cousin Billy said you was a Yankee, That's not so, is it?" "First of all young lady It's were, not was. Here comes Gramps, why don't you ask him." .......................................... Gwen noticed her standing in the doorway of her office, An odd expression on her face. She was her husband's oldest friend, moving from Birmingham to Boston with him when he relocated. Gwen had never really liked her. Her name was Crystal Ann Montgomery, but everybody called her 'Dixie'. Short, stacked, a redhead with green eyes. Between her killer good looks and soft Southern drawl, she had the males at the firm completely whipped, even the married ones. All she had to do was suggest something and it became policy. She flirted shamelessly, but was never improper. She never dated in house, but was seen on the arm of many eligible men over the years. Oddly, she had never settled down. "Something I can help you with, Crystal Anne?" She would be damned if she ever called her by her nickname. "I been hearin' things, sugar, bad things. Thought I might drop by, see if there was anything to it." Her green eyes were frosty, no friendliness at all in them. Her comment made Gwen angry. "What you hear and don't hear is none of my business. Now, I'm sure you have better things to do." Crystal refused to be baited. "Sorry sugar[she pronounced it 'shugah', her accent became more pronounced when she was pissed], when you married Hardy you became my business. Honestly, I've never liked you and don't give a rats ass what happens to you. I tried my best to talk him out of marrying you. But love is blind, and in his case stupid, and he did it anyway. Now you've fucked over him, and for his sake I'm giving you fair warning." She paused to clarify her thoughts. "He's not the man he led you to believe. You actually know very little about him. He didn't tell you because he was ashamed of part of it and afraid the other parts would scare you away." "I tell you this for your own good. He's an Old Testament kind of guy, and is a firm believer in the 'eye for an eye' school of thought. When he finds out what you've done, you better not be anywhere close to him or it could end up very badly for you. Just so we're clear here, I'm not telling you this to protect you, but him." By now Gwen was angry. First she didn't know what she was talking about, and second her life was none of her business. Dripping sarcasm, she spoke. "Well, Miss Montgomery, let me thank you for your concern, however scant it appears to be. But Hardy and I are just fine, despite what you hear. Now, I'm sure you have work to do." If she thought that would make her scurry away she was badly mistaken. "Oh, don't worry about me, sugar. I'm on lunch. If you're just fine with your husband, why did Allen post 'BLOND ON BLOND IS BACK!' on his corporate Facebook? I'm leaving now, I just wanted to have this talk to see if I could save Hardy some pain." "But you're either in denial or just don't care. I've said my piece, but I will leave you with this." "Like I said, I did it for Hardy, not you. You need to remember, he's not one of those Ivy League Yankee boys you're used to. There won't be any counseling or exploration of feelings. He'll go straight to your ass." "Parting shot here, what you may not know is the one thing Hardy hates above anything else is a cheater. And when he kicks you to the curb, I'm gonna be there to try and catch him on the rebound." "I've loved him since I was fourteen years old, and I'd die before I'd cheat on him. I intend to be on him quicker than a hen on a June bug." "Ya'll have a nice day, sugar." With that she sauntered out the door, turning the head of every man in the hallway. .................................................. Gwen sat in shock, before accessing his Facebook account. There it was, for every one to see. "Man, the trip to Paris was a huge success. The negotiations went very well, and more importantly, BLOND ON BLOND IS BACK! Things can't get much better." Blond on blond was his pet name for them when they were intimate. He was something of a poser, and grew his hair long to give him what he mentally called his 'rebel' look. He said with both having long, beautiful locks[his description, not hers]made them a beautiful couple. Her Dad and most of the senior staff thought he looked girlish, but he was damn good at his job so they left him alone. She reached for the phone, dialing his extension. He recognized her number. "Hi, babes. What's up?" "Allan, are you insane? What's with the 'blond on blond' crack on your Facebook? Are you trying to get me divorced, or both of us fired? If Dad gets wind of this you'll be fired in a heartbeat, and it won't go well for me either. I don't think he would fire his only child, but who knows." She was practically screaming at him by the end. "Hold on there, babe. Your Dad would never fire you, you're the second best contract lawyer he's got, right behind me. Everything will be cool, just stay calm." Not assured, she tried to reason with him. "Look, Paris was a mistake. If I hadn't been drunk and let you talk me into that line of coke it would never had happen. We DO NOT want my husband to find out." Allan was not perturbed. He wanted everyone to find out, he wanted Gwen back. He almost had her until her Dad brought that hick up from Alabama. "You sure didn't think it was a mistake when you were screaming my name. Joe Redneck doesn't scare me, remember I"m a third degree black belt. I won't go looking for him, but if he pushes he'll get more than his feelings hurt." "Damn Allan, have the drugs scrambled your brains? Don't sell him short, he did two tours in Iraq. He's kinda used to killing people. Now, keep your mouth shut, understand?" He had no intention of keeping his mouth shut, but he wanted to keep her calm so he agreed. When she hung up he reclined back into his chair, smiling. He almost had her once, and this time he was going to hold on to her. He knew her weaknesses and intended to exploit them. She was beautiful, fairly intelligent, but more importantly, she was the only child and sole heir to her fathers' estate when he passes, not to mention the massive trust fund her grandmother had left her. All told it ran into three to four hundred million, give or take. Yes, life was going to be very good to him in the near future. Smiling, he lifted the phone. ................................................. Gwen sat at her desk, fuming. How had she let herself get drawn into this mess? She hoped Allen would honor his word. Looking at the picture on her desk, she thought back to her courtship. She had chased him, relentlessly. His Southern charm, rugged good looks, and animal magnetism drew every woman to him like a moth to a flame. He didn't appear to notice it, and treated every one of them with respect, but his habit of looking them directly into their eyes like they were the only woman on earth worthy of his gaze unnerved and aroused them. One once described his look as controlled, but with something primal and dangerous lurking just below the surface. "Who is that?" She asked her paralegal one day, watching him walk down the hall. Lisa laughed. "Down, girl! That's Hardy Wilkes, the new lawyer your father brought up from the Birmingham office. He handles all the pro bono work now. He's pretty, but he's a loner. I don't think he's gay, but he doesn't seem to have much interest in women. I gave him a run, and he basically ignored all the signals." Gwen brought him up at her regular Sunday lunch with her Dad. "I hear you brought a lawyer up from the Alabama office. Is he any good?" She often wondered why he kept the Birmingham office open. Her great grandfather had opened the office as a favor to a steel baron who he represented. It was a good move, and eventually they had almost all the old steel magnates as clients. But the steel business was almost completely gone now. The office was just a courtesy to the few surviving tycoons. But still, it was profitable and seemed to have a place in her Dads' heart. Her Dad laughed. "Leave it to you to notice when a handsome man joins the firm. His name is Hardy Wilkes. He grew up in a small county up north of Birmingham. Went to college on the GI bill. We fund a scholarship at his college and I met him there. He'll fool you with that Good Ol' Boy charm and then destroy you before you realize there's a brilliant mind under that exterior. I saw him eat up a practicing lawyer at a mock trial when he was in his second year. I recruited him on the spot. When he got his license he went to work for me. He doesn't seem to be motivated by money, so I let him run the pro bono section in Birmingham. He was fairly selective, only taking cases where he thought they were innocent, and has a 93% success rate." He looked at her speculatively. She had a habit of falling in love inopportunely. She had been engaged twice, and both times they fell through when she cheated. "Leave him alone, Gwen. You have no idea how he thinks. He has no experience with your world, and I don't think he would fit. Plus, I don't think you could control him, and I know how important that is to you." "Daddy! Really, do you think I pursue every man I think attractive?" He just sat back and smiled. ................................................. It was an uphill battle. He was polite, he was nice, he just wasn't interested. She was enough of a spoiled little rich girl to let that offend her greatly. Finally, she had him trapped. It was a black tie dinner for Amnesty International, a fundraising effort on the part of her father. He supported the group privately and publicly, donating resources as well as money. He was a keynote speaker, but it had been a particular nasty winter in Boston, and he had a case of the flu bad enough to be hospitalized overnight. He was home now, but was in no shape for the event, so he asked Hardy as a personal favor to give his speech. He would represent the firm, she would represent the family. She showed up in a limo to pick him up. Gwen spent a good deal of time and money to look her very best. Long, shimmering gray dress by a prominent designer, diamond necklace, bracelets and ear studs. Her long tawny blond hair styled to perfection. She took his breath away. He wore a standard black tux, but she thought he was very handsome in it. His almost platinum blond hair styled very nicely, his piercing grey eyes and gleaming white teeth made him a very presentable package. The local press was out in force, this was a big event and most all the movers and shakers in the area would be there. When they arrived, as hosts and primary donor, they had their picture taken almost the whole time they were there. They were on the front page, in the business section, as well as the social section in Sundays' paper. The front page identified them as Gwen Canaday, contract law specialist and daughter of the principal partner and C.E.O. of Canaday and Associates, and Hardy Wilkes, recently of Birmingham, prominent defense attorney of the same firm. The business section had a spread on the economics of pro bono defense cases for large firms, and of course the society page speculated whether they were a couple or not, and if the "Canaday wild child" was finally settling down. The night was a success in terms of money raised and pro bono hours committed by various firms. Hardy gave an impassioned speech about the importance of the cause. They mingled, her clinging to his arm like it was a lifeline, saying it would keep the wolves at bay. She was careful to be well behaved but occasionally flirty, with light touches and whispered observations. By the end of the night she was much more sober than usual, while he on the other hand had more wine than his norm. The ride back was relaxed. She sat close but was careful not to smother. She had the feeling he would bolt if she came on too strong. He delivered her to her fathers' mansion instead of her townhouse, and to her surprise agreed to a coffee before he left. Forty five minutes of conversation and a gentle kiss, and he was gone. She felt like a fifteen year old, hugging herself behind the door as he left. She had forgotten how good that felt. Then she went to check on her father before retiring into her old room. Her last thoughts were of his smile as she drifted out to sleep. After that, she found one function or another that required him escorting her. "Just business, you know." Soon, they were dating. ................................................ It was a difficult courtship, mostly because she had to do the courting. He was smitten badly, but refused to act on it. The first thing she did was end her relationship with Allan. He was smart, fun to be with, and above average in size and bedroom skills. Their occasional use of what he liked to call "recreational pharmaceuticals" enhanced the experience, but made her uneasy afterwards. Plus, she didn't love him. He did not take it well at first, then calmed down and wished her well, reminding her if she needed someone, he was there for her. Her Dad gave her a serious lecture after her intentions became known. "Leave him alone, baby. He's a good man, and you could destroy him without any effort at all. He's from a different world. His values and long range plans are probably nowhere near yours, if you even have plans. You'll end up breaking his heart." "Oh, Daddy, don't worry, it's nothing serious. I won't hurt him, he probably won't remember me in two years. I like him, he's fun." At home, she was deciding if Gwen Canaday-Wilkes would sound as good to others if it did to her. After they got comfortable with each other, he spent part of every date telling her why there could never be a long term relationship between them. "I'm almost ten years older than you. I have no money other than the generous salary your Dad gives me. I can't compete in your world, and don't really care to. I'm a simple man, you're as complicated as quantum theory physics. I want a quiet life, with a good woman and two or three children. I don't think you care for kids." She was actually offended, and gave him his first dose of her temper. "How would you know what I want? You've never cared to ask. Maybe I want the same thing, maybe money, travel, and power isn't as satisfying as the love of a good man. You'll never know unless you give me a chance." "Sure, I like money and I'm used to it, but when I measure a man I don't really think of it. I've got enough money now than most people can earn in a hundred lifetimes, and that's not counting what I inherit from Daddy. Earnings potential isn't what I'm looking for, love is." She calmed down a bit and teased him gently. "Sorry honey, but sometimes you can be so dense. Are you sure you're a lawyer? I hope you kiss better than you argue." Up until now, the sixth date, all she had gotten was a soft goodnight peck. She was sexually and emotionally frustrated, the longest it had taken to get a man in bed before was two dates, if she wanted. Apparently she had gotten to him, she had never seen his eyes so intense. He looked...primal. Grasping her firmly, he kissed her soundly, and with a good bit of passion. She stiffened at first, but soon surrendered to the feelings. She felt overwhelmed, possessed, and loved all rolled into one. When he finally broke away, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing. He abruptly rose, gave her a curt goodnight, and strode out of her townhouse. By the time she had gathered herself and rushed to the door he was long gone. She leaned against the door jamb and smiled. "Gotcha." ............................................... Her father was not pleased. Not at all. "Don't do this, Gwen. It will only end badly." "Please, Daddy, be happy for me. I truly do love him. Just think, in a few years I'll turn into the grandchild factory you've been wanting." "You know he asked me for your hand? Who does that anymore? He's the best man I've ever met, Gwen, I mean it. There's a lot potential in that man. If there's the least bit of uncertainty, let him go." "I'll hold that man 'til the day I die. I promise you Daddy." ................................................ She conquered him on the ninth date. It was an art benefit. To her surprise he knew quite a bit about the subject. He loved impressionists and old masters, wasn't to keen on surrealists and modern art. "Pollack? Really? The man threw paint at canvasses, something a monkey could do." She loved "The Scream" for what she called the raw emotionalism. But she also liked folk art, and the Wyeth family. Their playful argument drew a crowd, and soon several others joined the debate. One woman seemed just a bit too friendly, and Gwen found herself in the unusual position of defending her property. She tried to keep between Hardy and the woman, but was unsuccessful several times. It didn't help that the woman was drop dead beautiful, even if she was a little older. Plus, the clothes, the jewelery, the general attitude of the woman screamed 'MONEY'. Hardy caught on, and teased her by paying what she thought was undue attention to the woman. She caught her in the ladies room. "That Hardy sure is a fine looking man. I'd love to see his legal briefs sometime." The other ladies laughed, one even said she heard they weren't brief at all. Gwen had all she could stand. "Back off bitch. He's mine!" She smiled sweetly, pissing her off more. "You don't have to convince me, darling, you have to convince him." She practically hung on him like wallpaper the rest of the evening. "Why did you do that?" They were in the car headed home. "Do what?" "You know what. Flirt with that bitch. Couldn't she see you were mine? She's too old for you anyway, she must be what, forty? That was mean." "That bitch, as you so elegantly put it, is one of our clients. Old money from Birmingham. I helped her nephew in a small matter once, a few years back. She was teasing you, just to see how you'd react. And she's thirty nine, just four years older than me" "Besides" he grinned "Who said I was yours?" It caught her off guard. "Well, that is, I mean to say..." "Honey, better stick to contract law. I'd slaughter you in court." She could see he was laughing at her. She slapped his shoulder. "I'm just starting to see what a sneaky devil you are. And for your information, you're mine 'cause I say you are. Because I want you to be." She could feel his eyes on her in the dark. "Be careful what you want, little girl. It might turn out to be something totally different after you've got it." She answered in the same serious tone. "I always get what I want, and if it's a little different I can work with it, make it better." His mood changed suddenly. He was grinning again. "Why counselor, that sounds like a merger proposal. Are you willing to negotiate?" Boston to Birmingham Ch. 01 She smiled back. "Yes I am. I'm sure I could bring a very good offer to the table." They had pulled up outside her townhouse. When he got out to escort her to her door, she turned and dismissed the driver. "Well," he said, staring at the disappearing taillights, "there goes my ride home." "Don't worry, my darling, I'll get you home." As she turned to unlock her door she said under her breath "Eventually". She put on a pot of coffee, his weakness. He was a coffee junkie, constantly buying expensive brews and experimenting. He got hooked in Iraq, after drinking the local crop. He used to laugh that lots of guys came back with bad habits, but he was the only one he knew who was a caffeine addict. She always had a few exotic blends on hand. Excusing herself, she slipped out of her dress and into a short robe. When she returned and sat, his eyes immediately went to her legs. She knew she had very nice legs, so she wiggled around a bit for his benefit before tucking them underneath her on the couch. He had prepared the coffee, and they sat, sipping in companionable silence. "I think you owe me something for being mean to me tonight." He was startled, brought out of his reflections by the abruptness of her words. "What would you consider a fair payment?" She crawled across to straddle him. Holding his head in her hands, she said "I consider ten kisses to be a good start. After that we'll negotiate ." The first two were gentle probings, the next two more demanding. She pulled back. "Whew, I've never been so hot during negotiations, I need to be a little more comfortable." She untied the robe and let it fall open. There was nothing underneath but her. His eyes flew wide and then narrowed, hooded by lust. As his hands slipped underneath and began stroking her body, she sighed contentedly. "Much better." By the sixth kiss the robe was on the floor. He abandoned her mouth, concentrating on her neck, trailing down to her nipples. They were hard enough to cut glass by the time his tongue left them. She could feel him growing under her. Arching her back, she ground against him. "I think," she said, breathing heavily, "I think...." She didn't get to finish her thought before his lips clamped down on hers. He rose easily, sliding an arm underneath her legs. Even in her arousal she marveled at his strength. Carrying her into the bedroom he threw her down, and started removing his clothes. She lay on the bed admiring him, admired the power radiating out of him, before she scrambled to the edge and started helping him. When his pants and boxers fell to the floor, she got a nice surprise. His cock wasn't the biggest she ever saw, that guy was a freak of nature, but it was very nice, very nice indeed. She grabbed it, trying to pull it to her mouth. He stopped her, threw her back on the bed, grabbed her legs, and rammed it all the way in on the first thrust. She came instantly, with a scream. No gentleness, no words of endearment, just a firm and steady pounding, increasing in speed and strength for about twenty minutes. She screamed her way through two more orgasms before she felt him stiffen, then collapse on her. She was gasping for breath, while he was breathing slowly, regularly. He hadn't made the first sound while they coupled. She finally found her voice. "Wow. That was great, I can't...." That was all she got out before he flipped her over, grabbing her hips and pulling her onto her knees. "He can't possibly be ready again" she thought, "wonder what..." That was the last of her coherent thoughts as he rammed home again, just as hard as he was before. It probably lasted half an hour this time, but she had no idea. She came again within two minutes, screaming his name. Then he slowed down, varying speed, depth, rhythm, sliding to the side, moving her up and down like she weighed nothing. Soon she was begging for release, but he teased her another five minutes before thrusting, pushing her over the top. She thought at one time she passed out, only to regain her senses as she orgasmed yet again. When he finally collapsed and spooned her to him, she was asleep within seconds. She was still sleeping the next morning when she felt drops of water hitting her face. Looking up, she saw him freshly showered, wrapped in a towel, flicking water off his body. "Good morning, sleepy head! Wouldn't happen to have a razor lying around, would you? If I kissed you now it would feel like sandpaper." She rippled across the bed, making sure he took in her toned body as she moved. "And do you intend to kiss me?" His smile was radiant. "As the man in the movie said,'hard and often', but if you prefer it rough..." He leaned over and rubbed his cheek across her stomach, it did feel like sandpaper. "Ouch! You've made your point." Gwen scrambled off the bed and found him a razor. "Hope the color pink doesn't offend you masculine sensibilities" she giggled, handing him the razor. "It'll be our little secret" he grinned back. "Tell me what you like and I'll make sure we have some next time." His cool grey eyes looked into her ice blue ones. "Are you sure there's going to be a next time?" She looked back, just as seriously. "No, there's not going to be a next time. There's going to be lots of times." It was the right answer. Hardy shaved as she showered. She stuck her head out. "Honey, would you wash my back?" Moving to the shower he took in her glorious body. water cascading off her breasts and flowing down to her shaven pubes. Abandoning all pretense, he climbed into the shower with her, for what would be the second of three showers he would take that morning. Soon he had her in his arms again, carrying her to the bed, not even stopping to towel off. Once again she was tossed on the bed. "Damn", she thought, "he must be a throwback to the cavemen. I wonder if he does anything with a woman besides pound her?" The thought was answered quick enough when he dropped to his knees beside the bed and pulled her to him, his tongue finding her pussy with the accuracy of a guided missile. She feared an onslaught, but he was very gentle, at first. She didn't scream when she climaxed because it took her breath away. She couldn't even beg him to stop as he kept up his relentless licking, sucking, and nibbling. It was only after the second one, when she felt like she was trying to squeeze his head off his shoulders, before she found her voice. "Please, baby, no more, not right now, let me res.." was all she got out before he was on the bed between her knees. After a few hard minutes he rolled over, putting her on top. Gwen didn't know where she found the strength to ride him, but she gave it all she had. Losing count of the orgasms, she felt him grip her a little tighter, thrust a little harder, then hold her in place for a minute. She could actually feel him pulsing inside her. They lay intertwined for a few minutes before he rose. "Wanna take another shower and start again?" "No, baby, let me lay here for awhile." She looked at his back and ass as he went into the bathroom. Who knew there were that many muscles under those suits? "It's not supposed to be like this" she thought, "he's the one who supposed to be reduced to rubble, not me. Where the hell does he get that energy?" Truth be known, it was all Hardy could do to keep his legs from shaking as he went into the shower. Thinking of his grandfather as he lathered, he was sure he was right. "The first time you bed a woman, boy, give it to them hard and fast, and last as long as you can. That way they'll know they have a real man. Love 'em slow and gentle next, and they'll know they got a good man." All told, he thought, probably the best advice he could ever get. ............................................... It wasn't all sunshine and roses afterwards, but she slowly moved him to her way of thinking. The only way he could get him to agree to consider marriage was to live together for awhile. They knew they were compatible sexually. Socially was another matter. "I grew up dirt poor, Gwen. I've never had much, never really wanted much more than to be able to give my family a good life. I lack both your desire and social skills to move in your world." "Silly man, everybody can learn. And would you please stop worrying about money. I've already told you, I've got all we'll ever need." "That's kind of the point, hon. It's your money, not ours. It will always be your money, I'll never touch it. IF we marry, there will be a prenup stating I will not profit from a breakup, and that we'll split just what we accumulate after we wed. This isn't negotiable, counselor." Her dad was touched by the gesture, but it was just what he expected from Hardy. It surprised them both when her Dad stated that he would represent Hardy in the prenup negotiations, no argument. He made Gwen get another lawyer outside the firm to represent her. The meeting was a surprise to all concerned. The senior Canaday had a contract that was not to be deviated from, or the marriage was off. In the event of dissolution because of irreconcilable differences, both parties left with what they brought in. If they separated due to his infidelity, Hardy lost everything. Then it got interesting. Due to the extreme disparities of net worth, should Gwen stray before five years, Hardy got forty million dollars, one quarter of her trust fund from her grandmother. For every year they stayed married, it dropped a million, until at the end of the term all he could ever expect to get was one million. Since her father was trustee until she reached the age of thirty five, and as his lawyer,he would oversee the disbursement. Plus, it was to be paid immediately upon proof of infidelity, regardless of whether they stayed married or divorced. Everyone was shocked. Her lawyer was almost screaming with protest, so was Hardy. Gwen was numb. Hardy was fuming. "I'll not accept this. Why won't you honor my wishes?" "Hardy, will you wed her without my permission?" He had him there, knowing his code of honor. "No,sir. I couldn't in good conscience do that." "Then this is what it's going to take to give you my blessing. You're going to be together forever, this is really a moot point. Just sign the papers and set the date. Do it to please me." He turned to Gwen. Only she could see his eyes. "He thinks I'm going to cheat." she thought, "I hope he lives long enough to see how wrong he was." She gave her Dad her best smile. "I think the whole thing is foolish. I didn't want a prenup anyway. Where do I sign?" Against the strong advice of her lawyer, the agreement was signed and filed. ................................................ The wedding was the social event of the season. Nominally Catholic, the service was held in the largest cathedral in town. It was well attended, mostly by business and political allies. The only ones attending from his side was his maternal grandfather and an aunt. His parents were dead, and he never mentioned any siblings. The ceremony, the dress, the reception were all beautiful and outrageously expensive. Hardy said something to Greg, her dad, about it, but he just laughed and said it would all be worth it if he didn't have to go through it more than once. The only flaw in the marriage was the presence of her mother. She had called and told her of the engagement. She was living in France, with her sixth husband. "I'm so happy for you darling! Is he from a good family?" "He's from Alabama, Mom." "Goody! Old steel money?" "No Mom, he's..." She cut in. "let me guess, cotton, shrimp, timber?" "No Mom, he has no money." Her enthusiasm cooled instantly. "Oh no, he's not a gold digger, is he?" "No Mom, in fact he wanted to sign a prenup to insure he would never touch my money." "I always knew you were a smart girl. You must have him trained pretty well." "Not exactly, but I have gotten him to stop peeing on the rugs." "What?!" "Just kidding Mom. Are you and Henri coming?" "I'd love to honey, but Henri has me a short leash, and you know how he hates your father." "Why would he hate Dad? He was five husbands ago." "I don't know, because of his success, I think, or maybe because when I was tipsy once I let slip he was the best lover I ever had. I'd love to come honey, I just can't afford it right now." She knew what she was asking. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll arrange a first class ticket, and reservations at that five star hotel you like so much. You can even use the amenities, just charge it to the room. We'll go dress shopping when you get here." "Thank you, my darling. I'll see you soon." She loved her mother, but she was a terrible parent. When they split, she got custody. She immediately took her out of school and to Europe, promising Greg she would get her first class tutors. They spent ten months touring the continent, and she didn't open the first text book. She finally squandered the settlement she got, generous in spite of the prenup, and then thought she could use Gwen to get more. Her Dad played hardball, and won custody. Gwen spent the rest of her teen years being tutored, entered college at the age of sixteen. She was the youngest lawyer to enter her Dad's firm. Her Mom went through husbands and money like there was a never ending supply until she met Henri. He loved her, but was no fool. She had a monthly allowance, and when it was gone she got no more until the next month. Gwen used to slip her money until her Dad found out and hit the roof, threatening to both fire her and cut off the trust fund. After that she was on her own. Gwen had to get permission to pay for her trip. She loved her Mom, but as she matured she could only take her in small doses. They did have several shopping adventures while she was there. It felt like role reversal on occasion, having to tell her no like a child. Mom didn't like Hardy, at all. "Get away from that one, honey. He's too much man for you." "Mom, why would you say something like that?" "He won't let you control him, and you have enough of me in you to want to. He won't bend much, if at all. Trust me honey, he'll either break your heart, or you'll break his." Gwen, of course, laughed off her fears. Secretly, she was happy to see her go home to France. .................................................. The honeymoon was a month long cruise, paid for by her father. The only mar was when she wanted to go on a nude beach. He refused. She called him an old prude but didn't push it. He tried to explain it to her. "I'm a little old fashioned, you knew it when we married. What you did before was your business, but you belong to me now, and I want to be the only one to see you. Please understand." Privately she didn't, but agreed to his wishes. They settled into her townhouse. It was paid for, and she loved it. He liked it, but reminded her when the children came along he expected a house with a nice yard. Things were great for a year. They christened every room in the house several times as a married couple, maintaining a strong sex life, only pausing when she had to travel for business. Her job as a contract lawyer specializing in international business kept her traveling. At first she cut it back as much as she could, but soon was traveling at least twice a month for several days each time. He went with her when he could, but had his own responsibilities. When she was home, much of her business was done over dinner meetings, and he had to be in court early every day. The home life started to suffer. The little things soon magnified in importance. He was pushing her to cut back and start thinking about children. He was thirty six, his biological clock was ticking. "But I love my job!" she exclaimed as he talked to her once again. He was trying to be reasonable and make his point too. He was a trial lawyer, after all. "Honey, I'm not telling you to give it up. You're very good at what you do. I'm sure your Dad and the partners are very pleased. I'm just asking you to cut back a bit, explore other options. Your Dad wants you to get trial experience, you know he's grooming you to take over one day. Why don't you give that a try? We could work together, and spend a lot more time together." Hmmm, spend time in stuffy courtrooms with criminals, or take meetings in London, Lisbon, Marrakesh? She would never admit it to Hardy, but she loved her jet set lifestyle. "I know honey, and I will, in a year or two. I want to be the best at this first, it's important to me." This was disconcerting to Hardy, it wasn't what she promised going into the relationship. He didn't press it, a tactical mistake. She thought it implied agreement, she could move when she was ready. Another six months went by, and she became more and more distant. He was a runner, had done two marathons in Boston and one in New York. His goal was to finish, not win. She hated that he ran, said it took time away from them. He held his tongue, barely. He ran early mornings, and she was not an early riser. Often he would do five miles, shower, and be ready for work before she even woke her up. She was the one who often missed dinners at home, stressing the urgency of business. Gwen became resentful of his friends. He didn't cultivate the power brokers, instead he often spent time with the local police at their gym, working with at risk youth. He knew every cop in a ten block radius, as well as the chief and commissioner, often stopping to chat with the beat cops when he ran. Considering he was a defense lawyer, this was rare. But he was always fair, upfront, and never attacked a cop personally. All he wanted was the truth. They liked him before, but when he came up on a patrolman trying to subdue a suspect and saw another angling up behind him with a bat, his military training kicked in and he flattened the guy, his reputation was made. The second suspect was going to sue him, but he was a lawyer and an officer of the court, and the public defender let him know things would go very badly for him if he tried. But what really irritated her was his church friends. ............................................... It was Sunday morning, Gwen was in London, so he went running, taking a route new to him. It was amazing to him that just twenty five blocks separated the upscale town homes from the projects. Wisely deciding not to tempt fate, he turned and started back. There was a church on the corner, and as he passed he stopped. The doors were open, and he stopped to hear the choir singing. An old man was sitting on the steps, smoking. "Come on in, son. We always got room for one more." He declined. "Thank you, sir. But as you can see, I'm not dressed for church." He was dripping with sweat, and his shorts were soaked. "Don't make no difference to Him," he said pointing up, "but come another time. We'll always be here, and you'll always be welcome." The man stood and dusted off his seat. "Well, I got a sermon to preach. Hope He forgives me for sneaking a smoke. Everybody thinks I'm composing myself for the sermon. Putting the flock on the road to glory and all that. Ya'll have a blessed day." Hardy looked at the church sign out front. "Williams Street A.M.E. Zion Church" There was a lot of those in Alabama. A.M.E. stood for African Missionary Expedition, an offshoot of the Methodists, designed to bring the blacks into the fold. Hardy had attended church while in service, and kind of missed it. He asked Gwen once if she ever went to mass, and she just laughed. The next Sunday found him standing out front of the church, in a suit. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 01 The same older man greeted him warmly, and escorted him in. There was just a moment of silence as the sea of black faces took his measure, then began coming up to him, shaking his hand and bidding him welcome. The service was moving, reminding him of the preachers back home. He went back to see his grandfather about every two months. Gwen had never accompanied him. He noticed the choir sang acappella, even though a big B3 Hammond sat prominently off to the right. He asked the reverend about it as they shook hands after the service. "It's broke, and we ain't got the money to fix it. Even if we did, we got no one to play it." He changed the subject. "I can tell by your voice you're not from around here. Where you from originally?" "I doubt you ever heard of it. Limestone County, Alabama, up on the Tennessee border." The reverend grinned broadly. "Heck, boy, I'm from Franklin County. I thought you sounded familiar." He paused, frowning. "My last church was in Colbert County, there were some Wilkes living there. Any kin?" "Yes preacher, afraid so. And I know you know their reputation, and in my younger days I was as bad as any of them." "Well son, you seem to have bettered yourself. God does move in mysterious ways." Hardy laughed. "I don't know if it was God, but a county sheriff, a smart judge, a tough drill instructor, a Jewish Rabbi, and a good pyschologist moved me in the right direction." "Brother, that's a story I got to hear sometime. Now, would you join my wife and I for lunch?" It was Southern cooking at its' best. There must have been twenty people there, and the good will and fellowship flowed. Gwen attended with him, once. Two months later he joined the church. A week after that he had the organ fixed, and surprised the congregation by accompanying the choir. He had learned to play while he was in rehab for wounds received in service. Learning an instrument was part of his therapy. Gwen thought it was funny until she came home from a trip and found a black teenager in her kitchen. She thought it was a break in until Hardy came out of their home office. He had been tutoring the boy and had taken a break for some drinks. They had to cancel the 911 call and talk to the policemen who came to check, standard policy when 911 is dialed. She recovered nicely but gave Hardy hell later. "I admire your work, Hardy, but do you have to bring them into my home?" He looked at her with tired eyes. "Don't you mean our home? Robbie has a very high IQ, he's motivated and wants to get ahead in life. He just hasn't had a lot of breaks. I'm helping him get ready for his SAT exam. If he does well he's almost guaranteed a scholarship." She realized her error and tried to make amends. "Yes, honey, it is OUR home, and I'm proud of what you're doing. It just caught me by surprise. I'm tired. Take me to bed?" He did, but it felt forced, rehearsed, without any real feeling. Their love life had dwindled, badly. When they first married he would come home, sneak up behind her, and before she knew it have her flipped over the closest piece of furniture available. She would scream and giggle, telling him to stop, while thrusting back with all her might. Six months ago he tried it and she shocked him by breaking loose and giving him a lecture about being crude. She didn't realize it until much later, but it was the last time he ever attempted it. Gwen was working on the biggest merger in the firms' history. Two mega corporations, one in Boston, one in Paris. The intricacies were horrific, and her team, Allan's team, and their Parisian counterparts were working seventy plus hours a week to meet a government imposed deadline. She had been home for two days in three weeks. They had dinner with her Dad, and he could tell things were strained. When he tried to lighten the mood by asking if the timeline for grandchildren was still on, things went downhill fast. Hardy was almost emotionless in his answer. "You'll have to ask Gwen. We have to actually be on the same continent and in the same bedroom for that to happen." Gwen flushed. She knew she had been neglecting him, but damn it, the merger was important. Instead of smoothing it over, she attacked. "That's not fair and you know it! I have to work like this to get the merger done on time. A lot of people are depending on us. It'll be over in the next month, then we can go back to our lives." Hardy shocked her. "Oh. I understand, honey, the needs of the many vs the needs of the few. The firm should always come first. And I'm sure we'll get our lives back, at least until the next big deal comes up. We'll have what, two, maybe three whole days? I guess I should be grateful for what I can get." Her face lost all color. How dare he trivialize what she did? Before she could start, Her Dad interrupted. "Gwen! Not a word! Anything you say right now will probably be hurtful. You two obviously have issues. Go home, work them out. And Hardy, I resent the implication that I would allow our firm to eclipse your marriage." They rode home in absolute silence. They sat together on the couch later, side by side. They may as well have been on different continents. Hardy apologized. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to say anything in front of your Dad, it just came out. But honey, we need to talk. What's happening lately isn't what we agreed on when we married. We've lost the passion, and just to be honest you've acted like you were ashamed of me the last few times we've been out with your friends. If you're out of love with me, tell me and we'll move on. You're too beautiful to be miserable." "It'll break my heart, but I want you happy." Gwen felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over her head. Had she been that bad? Looking back, she had to admit she had slighted him several times while out with her friends. Was she ashamed of him? No! He just needed to lighten up a little. She started crying and apologized repeatedly. "I still love you! Of course I'm proud of you. We WILL start our family soon, just let me get through with this merger, honey. We'll take a trip, reignite our love. Please honey." He held her and whispered his love to her while she cried. Glad she couldn't see his face, the tears trickling down his cheeks. He wanted to believe her, desperately, but the trial lawyer in him couldn't ignore the facts. They went to bed but didn't make love, content to hold each other. The next morning he woke to a warm pleasant sensation, and looked down to see she had hold of his morning erection, and had it halfway down her throat. He lay back, enjoying the sensations, it had been a while. When she started being more aggressive, he reached down to pull her up. She rammed her mouth all the way down his length, sliding slowly, slowly back up. She looked at him with the old lust in her eyes. "Oh no, big boy. Today you get to rack up frequent flyer miles. We're going to start in France.." she paused to take him back into her mouth for a second, "Then I thought you might want to do a little missionary work, and end our little tour in Greece. It's your turn to go 'round the world." It was the most intense lovemaking they had ever had. When he finally lost it, she clamped down, not allowing a drop to spill. He grabbed her and told her since he was in France, he was going to stop by the Gates Of Heaven and proceeded to give her two massive orgasms with his tongue and fingers, working both holes at the last. They both lay in blissful silence, before he proceeded with his mission work. They rested before the last stop. Gwen actually liked anal when she was in the mood. It was a longer session than she would have liked, but the look on his face made it all worthwhile. They cuddled and caressed the rest of the day. She went into work Friday beaming. Things were getting back on track. Her good mood evaporated when Lisa told her the boss wanted her ASAP. "Damn" she thought, "What could Dad want now? This can't be good." She entered his office, and he came around the desk and sat in a chair beside her. "Honey, let me tell you how proud I am of you. This merger is going to make you a star. You'll definitely get a full partnership out of it." She beamed under his praise. Maybe she was wrong. He leaned back tented his fingers and looking at her intently. "How's your home life? Truth, now." "Oh, it's been a little rocky, but we reconnected last night. I'm formally putting in for two weeks of vacation immediately after the merger is complete. We're going away, no cell phones, no deadlines, just us." "I'm pleased for both of you, you know how I feel about Hardy." He paused, she wasn't going to like what was coming next. "Honey, the other partners and I have come to an agreement. You've peaked in your department. Nothing can top what you've done. We think it's time you moved over to litigation. A year or two of court experience will round you out. This is a good thing. After all, in ten or fifteen years you'll be sitting in this chair. We want you to be competent in all areas. You'll need the experience to make the hard decisions." "So, finish your project, take some time off with Hardy, and when you return you can look forward to new challenges." It was liked being slapped in the face. All her hard work, and as a reward she was being transferred to the most onerous department in the firm. Court cases, the kind they handled for rich clients, were often messy, blood letting affairs, involving sex, stupidity, or money, usually a combination of all three. Occasionally one of the clients did something so monumentally idiotic they ended up in criminal court. Then it got really bad. The sheer drudgery of paperwork would drive a normal person insane. Her Dad knew she was pissed, but deep down he did want grandchildren, and he knew they had no chance of staying together unless they had more time to reconnect. She put on her best face, even if he was her dad, he was still the boss. Afterwards, she slammed her office door, telling her assistant not to disturb her for an hour. Irrationally, she blamed the whole thing on Hardy. "He got to my Dad. I bet they spend quality time mapping out my future, probably already determined the number and names of my children." That night at home, as Hardy tried to kiss her, she turned her head, offering her cheek instead. He was confused, things seemed to be back on track. What had he done wrong now? "What's wrong, hon, bad day at the office?" She had been brooding all day and lost it. "Like you don't know! Scheming with Dad to keep me home, taking my job away. Why did you do that to me?!" She continued to rail at him for ten minutes before he could get a word in. Hardy had no idea what she was talking about. Her Dad had made that decision without him knowing, so he was completely in the dark. It took awhile to get the story, and while he sympathized with her, he was becoming irritated. "I'm sorry, I didn't know the thought of spending more time at home was so distasteful to you. I had no input in the decision, but I'd be lying if I told you I didn't like it. We made promises, Gwen, established a timeline. Damn it, we talked this to death! I'm starting to think it was all a lie, just another example of a spoiled little rich girl stamping her foot and saying 'I want'. And I was a fool, dumb enough to believe you." "But you know, deep down, I knew it would come to this. We're just too different. Knowing that, I still hoped it would work, hoped with all my heart, so even though I'm not surprised, I'm still amazed at the pain I feel." At the end, he was standing over her, the pain and anger blazing from his eyes. She shrank back, afraid of her husband for the first time in her life. When he turned and stalked out the door, she sat there in shock. To this day she couldn't tell you how long she sat there in confusion and surprise. Snapping out of it she grabbed her phone and called him. It rang and seemed to echo, before it hit her it was coming from the bedroom. "Did he come back in while I was zoned out?" she thought as she hurried to the bedroom. Of course he wasn't there, his phone was on his night stand, like it always was when he prepared for bed. She called his friends, the ones she knew of, but nobody had seen or heard from him. In desperation, she called her Dad. When he heard the story she could hear his irritation as he talked. Finally he exploded. "You need to fix this, and quick. He's a prideful man, child, and you've been cutting him to the core lately. Get your head out of your ass before you lose him. On the other hand, if you want out, end it quickly. Don't make him suffer needlessly. Damn it girl! I knew this would happen. You've got too much of your mother in you. I should have told him no when he asked for your hand." Gwen reeled under his attack, did he really think so little of her? She ended the call by telling him if he heard from him, please tell him to come home, or at least call. "And Daddy, make sure you tell him I said please, that I'm sorry, and most of all that I love him." She finally fell into an exhausted sleep around two. At noon she called the local precinct to report him missing. Maybe the police could find him. She talked to an Officer Malone. "Hardy is missing? How long?" She was surprised he used his first name, but then again, he seemed on a first name basis with the entire police force. "Since seven last night. Can you help me?" "Officially, we can't do anything for twenty four hours. Tell me, did you two have a little spat last night?" "Well, we did have a misunderstanding, but I..." "There you go, my lass, he's probably off cooling down. If he's not home by tomorrow morning, call and ask for me. You don't remember me, but we met once. I'm sure he won't stay away from such a beauty as you for long. And, unofficially, of course, I'll check around today. If I find him, I'll give him a little nudge. Stop worrying, he'll most likely be home shortly." She thanked him profusely, the deep baritone Boston Irish accented voice was comforting. ................................................. Officer Malone put the word out, and soon found him at an uptown hotel. Hardy was surprised when he opened the door. "Tommy, what brings you out of your precinct? Is everything all right?" "No, me prideful, stubborn boy, things are definitely not all right. Your lovely bride reported you missing. You should have heard her, it sounded like she was about to collapse any second." "It's not my business, but I've become fond of you. If you hadn't been there that day my youngest may not be here now. So as a friend, do us all a favor and go home. If her dad decides to throw his weight around it could get uncomfortable for everyone." Hardy frowned. He had been thinking about going home, but the stubborn streak he had been trying to hold in check for years had been loosed by all this, and was not to be denied. "So, the rich bitch gets Bostons' finest to do her dirty work now. Tell me Tommy, how did she pay you, offer to make a donation to one of your causes?" Tommy literally reeled under the attack. By the end Hardy was standing directly in front of him, dwarfing his five nine with his six three. And the eyes! He had never seen eyes like that before. Training kicked in and he stepped back, touching his weapon. "Jeez! Calm down Hardy. She didn't do anything but try to file a missing person report. I came on my own because I thought you were my friend and I wanted to help you. Sorry, it's not my business. I'll leave you alone." He was backing out of the suite as he was speaking, never taking his gaze of the eyes. Hardy seemed to deflate like a balloon. "I'm sorry Tommy. I didn't mean to be so rude. And I appreciate the effort, really. But there's a lot more to this than you know." "Do me a favor, tell my wife I agree to talk. I should be calm enough by tomorrow, I'll be home by one. We'll talk then." "And Tommy, thank you, it's good to know you got friends." "Don't mention it. I expect to see you Thursday, basketball tryouts at the gym. I think we're gonna give you the girls this year." It was the first time that day he saw him smile. "Great! I can't handle one Yankee gal, and you want to turn a bunch of twelve and thirteen year old girls loose on me. Thank you so much." Tommy grinned back. "Don't worry too much, by the second day they'll all be in love with you. Then they'd kill for you if you told them to. Good luck, old son." As he walked away he fingered the rosary in his pocket and said a little prayer for him. It couldn't hurt. ................................................ Gwen had not been idle. After the shock wore off her skills surged to the forefront and she started making calls. She called Crystal Anne, she just laughed and hung up. Damn, it had been only ten days since their little talk. God, she hoped she didn't spill the beans about her slip with Allan. It had been a tense week, working with Allan again. She repeated their previous conversation. She really liked him, but it had been a mistake, never to be repeated. He kept hinting, so she started avoiding him, speaking only when business required it. Thank goodness they only needed one more week to conclude the deal for their clients. He was nice to her, didn't want to scare her again, but deep down he was pissed. Still, patience was a good thing when it came to closing the deal, and he was a master. Word got back to him soon about her situation, he was paying[and banging] her P.A. He called her that night before Officer Malone got back to her. He was careful in his wording, trying to show compassion while undermining Hardy more. "I'm sure he'll be back soon. He just not, well, not as sophisticated as we are. He doesn't understand our world, he's too simple. As soon as he cools down and starts thinking about all that money, and your beauty of course, he'll come crawling back." He'd been doing this for months, damning him with faint praise, stressing his humble background, his lack of sophistication, his slavish devotion to what he called the broke losers, his pro bono clients, his inability to loosen up. And planting small doubts in her head about whether it was her or the lifestyle he wanted. He had even talked her into going to a nude beach while they were in France, allowing the exhibitionist tendencies she had since she was eighteen to run loose. Then he sympathized with her for marrying a prude. Her insecurities were in the forefront, she never thought in a million years he'd walk out on her. The phone call from Malone gave her hope and comfort. And she actually listened to his advice. "I don't know what happened, don't want to know, but he's hurt bad, I could see it plain as day. Your fault, his fault, doesn't matter. What matters is you need to talk it out. Be honest, be loving, be upfront when he asks you something. You're both lawyers, you need to forget about your training, and just talk. Oh, and if it works out like I think it will, Thomas Francis is a good name for a boy." She actually laughed for the first time in two days, and promised to run it by Hardy. Thanking him profusely, she hung up. She laid out her most elegant nightgown, she wanted to be sexy but conservative. His favorite perfume followed, and a silk robe. She wanted to be dressed but instantly available. And she prayed for the first time in forever, that she not screw this up. Satisfied, she had a light dinner, called her dad and said she thought all would be right by tomorrow night, drank enough scotch to make her drowsy, and slept. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 01 ................................................. Allan sat, planned, brooded. Her P.A. had just left, after sharing a text that Gwen had sent. "One o'clock. I need to be there at eleven. If I work this right, he'll be gone by one fifteen, forever, and I'll catch her on the rebound. A little consoling, a little petting, and I'm back in the saddle." At ten thirty he was at her door. She answered on the first ring, expecting someone else, no doubt. She was stunning, the gown was gorgeous, her hair was perfect. She was going all out. "Allan! What are you doing here?" "I thought I'd stop by, see if Hardy was still in the wind. You know, give some comfort, try to cheer you up." "Thanks, but he'll be here soon. I believe we're going to be all right." "That's great!" he said with false enthusiasm, "I brought a bottle of champagne to comfort you, let's use it to celebrate instead." "I don't know, Allan. Hardy might not understand if he shows up early and sees you." "He doesn't know about Paris, does he?" "No, I told you it was a mistake. Please don't bring that up anymore." "My lips are sealed babe. How about a quick mimosa, and then I'll be gone. I'll be the first to congratulate you. It would be a shame to waste this bottle." Gwen loved champagne, one of her weaknesses. This was a particularly good vintage, nearly impossible to acquire. He practically sold the shell of his soul to get it. "Well, maybe one. Then you have to go. You're a real friend Allan, thanks." He hugged her as the door closed. By eleven, she was starting to feel the effects of the drug cocktail he had fed her in the champagne. Coke, x, a few more things his dealer said would start her motor. She was leaned against his shoulder, barely able to speak. "Come on baby, time to go to the bedroom." ................................................. Hardy barely slept. He missed Gwen terribly. The fact that she missed him enough to search for him felt good. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally working out. He stopped by the church on the way home. He hoped the reverend could give him some advice. They talked for an hour. The reverend took counseling courses from time to time, a requirement in his trade. The church approved, in fact many were certified. Keeping the flock on the right path included keeping couples together. Deep down, he had his doubts about Hardy and Gwen. He was willing, but he wasn't sure about her. He really didn't understand rich people very well. "Hardy, one of the truisms of counseling is the maxim 'Am I better off with her, or without her?' I've prayed for you both since yesterday. I can't make your decision. Does she make you happy? Do you make her happy? Can you find middle ground and make each other a promise to rekindle your passion for each other?" Tears glistened. "I can't see me without her. I don't want to." "Then what are you waiting for? Go home to your wife. Love each other. I'll ask the big man to excuse you from services today. I'm sure He'll understand." He offered his hand. Hardy shook it. "Thank you, reverend. I'm not supposed to be there for another hour or so, but I'm going right now." He didn't run out of the church, but it was a very fast walk. He was home by eleven twenty. not seeing her he thought she may be out, or still sleeping. He walked quietly to the bedroom, if she was asleep, he would let her rest, maybe even slip into be with her. He started to ease the door open, when the noise of someone having sex hit his ears. No, no, this isn't right. No one should be in the bedroom but her. Never a timid man he threw the door the rest of the way open, making a bang and punching a hole in the drywall with the knob. What he saw destroyed years of work, training, counseling, and hopes. All his hard work, all the work of friends through the years to change him into a better man, slipped off him like a layer of cheap veneer left out in the rain. He reverted to the rough and vicious man-child of his youth, instantly. Allan was lost in lust, ignoring the soft punches and protests. He was gonna bang the bitch good and leave her, open and dripping, for her husband. That should run Little Abner back to Alabama, then she would be his. He froze for a second when the door flew open, then grinned. This was even better. When he was done he'd kick his ass for good measure. He looked over his shoulder. "Come on in here, boy. Watch what a rea..." That would be the last coherent word he spoke for ten weeks. Even through the drug induced fog, she thought the scream sounded like the howl of an enraged animal. Allan may have been a black belt, but when you're buzzed and balls deep in a woman, your defensive options are limited. Hardy grabbed the long hair and dragged him backwards off Gwen and the bed. Allan had to wear a neck brace for two months. Hardy still had him by the hair, and was punching him before he fell off the bed. In the end, he had a broken nose, broken jaw[in two places]seven teeth knocked out, four broken ribs and a broken arm. Both eyes were blacked and he had a split ear. Oddly, he never once kicked him in the crotch. Gwen had come to her senses a bit, and screamed, trying to get Hardy to stop. He didn't hear her, and when she pulled his arm, he thought he was being attacked and reacted, driven by rage, backhanding her. It split her lip so badly they had to put in six stitches, and she later had to have an implant to replace the molar she had apparently swallowed. She was out cold before she hit the headboard. Hardy had a flash of reason when he saw her bounce off the headboard, and stopped. The only sound in the room was his harsh breathing and the moans of his victims. Still wild eyed and irrational, he went to check on her. Satisfied she was breathing, he happened to catch sight of the three pack of superglue he had bought to try and repair a small vase she had broken. The vase was the only thing he had left from his mother, and he kept it on his nightstand. She had come in tipsy one night and managed to knock onto the hard wood floor, breaking it into several pieces. He hadn't said anything, just cleaned it up and saved the pieces. He put the glue in his pocket, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her onto the floor. With his other hand, he grabbed his hair as well, and dragged them both through the house, as if they were feathers.. Their town house was on the ground floor, with a small patio in front, just big enough for a table and two chairs. It was raised off the sidewalk by about two feet and guarded by a short, wrought iron fence. Hardy sat there a lot in the temperate months, exchanging greetings with neighbors and reading the paper. Gwen hardly ever used it. Not having a spare hand, still running on pure adrenalin and rage, he kicked the front door pretty much off it's hinges, and dragged them onto the patio. Luckily they were both still out cold, but they could add sore scalps to their aches and pains when they awoke. Propping them side by side against the back fence, he pulled their hair through the fencing and tied it in a knot. Then he squirted a whole tube of superglue in it. He used another tube to glue her hand to his cock, and the last to hold his hand on her breast. Turning, he stalked off down the street. People were out, but no one offered to stop him, although they stared at the couple on the patio. Reason was starting to return, and he pulled out his cellphone out and dialed 911. He didn't identify himself, just reported a domestic disturbance with injuries and gave his address. In another nine blocks he was at the local precinct. The first person he saw was Tommy. Hey, Hardy! How did your talk go? have you kissed and made up yet?" He didn't say anything, and Tommy, true to almost three decades of police training, took in the anguished look on his face, his bloody hands and clothes, and the slump in his posture. Softly he asked "What happened, old son?" "It's bad Tommy, real bad. I caught her in bed with the guy she works with. I lost it, and hurt them both, I don't know how much. I am officially turning myself in." Tommy couldn't believe it, he had never even heard Hardy raise his voice in anger. All in all, he was the most controlled person he had ever met. By then his radio was crackling, reports and the urgent request for an ambulance. Tommy made a snap decision, based on his friendship and the fact that he saved his youngest son from a lot of pain and possible death when he subdued the guy with the bat. "Stop! Don't say another word! Get in the car." He opened the back door and Hardy slid in without a word. He wasn't arresting him, yet. He just wanted him where he could control him and keep him from leaving. He flipped open his cell phone and called his captain, who called the chief, who called the commissioner. This could be really bad, publicly for the police and his father, and privately for Hardy. Tommy listened to his orders and hung up. He got in the car and started across town. Hardy noticed and asked why they were driving away. Tommy reminded him sharply to stop talking, he figured it was because he hadn't been read his rights. When they went through the gates of his fathers' mansion, his head shot up. "What are we doing here?" "Not another word, old son, I'll be back in a minute." Leaving Hardy trapped in the car, he rang the bell and told the housekeeper to get her boss, it was urgent police business. Greg came to the door, puzzled. "Mr. Canaday, a private word, please." Tommy looked pointedly at the housekeeper. "Come in, we'll go to my office." Once settled, he came right to the point. "What can I do for you, officer... Malone?" "Sir, you don't know me, I'm from the twenty first, Your daughter and son live there." Greg was instantly alarmed. "Has anything happened to my family?" "Are you aware that were having...difficulties?" Yes, my daughter called me. I expect they'll patch things up." Tommy sighed. "I don't think so." He proceeded to tell him the events of the day. In constant contact with his captain, he learned that she had minor injuries, and was already in a private room. The man wasn't so lucky, multiple broken bones and a concussion, but his life wasn't in danger. He didn't give details of the way he had left them. Greg went pale. Then he squared his shoulders and went into lawyer mode. "Where's Hardy? I need to get there, I'm his lawyer of record. First I need to see my daughter, make sure she really is okay. Have you read him his rights? Has he been questioned?" "No to both. He hasn't been charged yet, so there was no need. As to where we're holding him, he's outside in the car. The chief wants you to call him before we proceed. I'm at your disposal until then." Greg had the housekeeper take Tommy into the kitchen for some coffee, and started making calls. The chief agreed to place Hardy in his custody, unofficially, until charges could be filed. He also agreed to give him Officer Malone for a few days, calling it detached duty. He went into the kitchen, drawing Malone off to the side and handing him some keys and papers. "Officer Malone, these are keys to my cottage on Cape Cod, and directions on how to get there. These are the keys to my Lincoln, someone will pick up your patrol car shortly. Call the commissioner, he'll explain." "Keep Hardy there until we call, if you have to handcuff him to the bed. Now, I need to go with you to talk to Hardy. Wait just out of earshot, client lawyer privilege, you understand." They walked to the front of the house. Just before they went out he put his hand on Malone's arm. "I can't thank you enough, but tell me why? Why would you help him like this?" "Mr. Canaday, he's one of the good ones. He does his job, doesn't cut us slack, but never makes it personal. A lot of defense lawyers win cases by smearing cops, but not Hardy." "Also, he's a good man. He helps out with the police youth league, with money, but more importantly time. Most lawyers give lip service and a check, Hardy is right there with us. If he ever has kids, he'll be a great Dad. He can get them to listen and behave, because he respects them and expects it in return." "But I helped him for two more reasons. Last year my youngest son was a rookie patrolman, working the projects. He made a rookie mistake, thought he had the crowd controlled and was cuffing a suspect. The suspect's partner was about to bean him with a bat when Hardy came by on one of his runs. He subdued the guy, my son would have been blindsided. He could have been hurt bad, even killed.' "Another reason is you and I are related, very distantly. My grandmother was a Kennedy. Not THOSE Kennedys, but again, distant relatives. My aunt researched our ancestry as a hobby. Did you know that when our ancestors came over from Ireland, the clerks at Ellis Island weren't the sharpest government employees around? Some of them could barely spell. Some of our people were processed as Kennedy, some as Canaday, but they were all the same clan. Just like you're a fifth generation lawyer, I'm a fifth generation cop. Our families have been intertwined for over a hundred years. And I was taught from the cradle you always took care of family." Greg was overwhelmed. He thought his family had been dying out for generations. He extended his hand and Malone shook it. "Thank you, cousin. Know that as long as my firm survives, your family will never pay another fee to a lawyer. Family has to stand together. Now, excuse me while I talk to my idiot son." He opened the car door. "Out!" Hardy got reluctantly out of the car, not looking him in the eye. Greg started immediately. "Malone filled me in. It was a horrible thing done to you, and I can understand your rage against the guy on some level, even if I can't condone what you did. But Gwen, was that necessary? You could have just walked away." Hardy told him the whole story, making sure he knew he only hit her once, by accident. He was sorry about her, and knowing how much he hated abusers, was deeply ashamed. But he surprised Greg by what he said next. "She probably saved Allan's life. I had every intention of beating him to death. If she hadn't distracted me, I would have. And I'm sorry, but only that I didn't get a chance to finish the job." Greg realized as he looked at him he didn't know who he was anymore. It was like someone flipped a switch, and he had transformed into something different, alien, evil perhaps. And his eyes, usually bright and flashing with good humor, had all the warmth of a bar of steel. They looked soulless, barren. "I have to go to the hospital. You've been released into my custody, and as your lawyer and boss I'm ordering you to go with Officer Malone. Do not talk to anyone, you understand, not a soul. Your word on this, Hardy." He agreed, and Greg watched as the Lincoln pulled out of the driveway. ................................................. Greg had them both transferred to a private hospital. Gwen looked awful, her lip and the side of her face swelled enormously, the lip bristling with stitches. Plus, she was mildly concussed. The doctors assured him in a couple of weeks she would be back to normal. She was only semiconscious, but in a moment of clarity she recognized her Dad, and she held out her hands. He held her until she went back to sleep. His shirt was soaked, and she murmured "sorry" over and over. He was shocked when he saw Allan, trying to reconcile his image of Hardy to the man capable of doing this. The face was swelled beyond recognition, his jaw was wired, and he had tubes and bandages sticking out of his face. What shocked him most of all was that both Gwen and Allan had almost shaved heads. He thought it was due to the medical treatment. When he read the police report, he was so stunned he had to lie down. ................................................. It was one of the most uncomfortable meetings he ever had. A month had passed. Gwen was presentable again, except for the small scars on her lip. Her hair had grown out, and she had it in a modest bob. The hairstyle and her quiet demeanor made her appear older. She had come back to her fathers' house after she was released from the hospital, on medical leave from the firm, hardly ever leaving her room. Greg finally insisted on counseling, she had gone twice so it was too early to tell if it was doing any good. Allan still looked like shit, his face a mottled color of healing bruises. His jaw was wired shut, would be for a few more weeks, and his buzz cut made him look totally different. Trying to keep the disgust out of his voice, he spoke. "All right, you two, here's what going to happen. We'll start with you, Allan. Here are your options." "One. I'll allow you to resign, and you won't be getting a recommendation. If you do this, I'll pay for your reconstructive surgery and give you two hundred thousand. You will relocate, west of the Mississippi. I hear California has excellent plastic surgeons. You will sign a paper releasing Hardy of any further responsibility of your medical bills. I've already paid them anyway. You will refuse to press charges for the assault, go away, and never contact him, my daughter, or this firm again." Allan was already shaking his head no, visions of a multimillion dollar lawsuit in his eyes. Plus, he really wanted to stick it to the redneck asshole. Greg eyed him for a minute. "All right, option two. I'll have you arrested for sexually assaulting my daughter and drug charges. Yours were the only fingerprints on the champagne bottle. You have any idea how popular pretty boy lawyers are in jail? You'll be married to Bubba in less than a week, I'll make sure of it." "You'll be disbarred, even if you beat the assault charge, because of the drug angle. Gwen has already agreed to testify. You'll most likely have a felony record, and minimum wage will be your future." "As a bonus, the Boston P.D. has a real hardon for you right now. Shouldn't have been such a jerk when you were doing defense work. If you're one mile over the speed limit, you'll get a ticket. If you fart in public, they'll cite you for breaking the noise ordinance. Have one drink in a bar, and you'll get a drunk and disorderly charge. They know your fondness for drugs, they'll probably search your home, your car, your body, including full cavity searches, on a regular basis. All I have to do is call the commissioner and say "go". All told, sunny California looks like your best option. "In other words, I'll use all my wealth and the connections I have to make your existence as miserable as possible, and I'll do it with a smile. Shouldn't have messed with my family, ASSHOLE!" He picked up the phone. "So shake your head yes right this minute, you miserable motherfucker, or the games begin." Allan was trapped, and knew it. He was actually crying when he shook his head yes. Greg smiled for the first time. "Good. Now before you leave, I think my daughter wants to say something to you. When she's done, I expect to hear you're on a plane within twenty four hours, heading West. Go past that and I start making calls." Gwen rose and stood before him. He wouldn't raise his head. She grabbed him by his split ear. He would have screamed if he could have opened his mouth. "Look at me, you miserable cocksucker. I lost the man I loved over you. I've always meant to tell you, without the drugs in me your lovemaking skills suck. I hope you have a long miserable life, and all the shit you've pulled come back to bite you on the ass." She let go of the ear and slapped him hard. He almost passed out from the pain. He practically crawled out of the office. The paperwork, including the check, was waiting for him at the security desk. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 01 After he was gone they sat in silence for a bit. Greg had his head in his hands. Gwen couldn't stand the silence, she had heard more than enough of that the past few weeks. "Thank you, Daddy. Now will you please get Hardy to talk to me?" It broke his heart to tell her, but she needed to know. "Gwen, he's gone. He went back to Alabama three weeks ago. He's not coming back. It was all I could do to get him to stay with the firm." Tears sprang instantly from her eyes. She tried to speak but couldn't for the sobs. "I'm sorry, baby, it gets worse. He filed for divorce before he left. I tried to talk him out of it, then tried to get him to change the reason. He filed on grounds of adultery." Gwen fainted. Greg sent her home and called a doctor. He sedated her and told him to keep an eye on her for the next few days. Another three weeks passed. He was sitting with her in the dining room. She hadn't said much the whole time except to ask him to get the best divorce lawyer available for her, she was going to fight the divorce. He refused. She had gotten shrill and abusive. He was at his wits' end. The spoiled princess was out in full force. "Gwen, I want you to listen to me. I've been thinking about this a lot. I'm partially to blame for this mess, me and your mother. Your mother gave you everything you wanted and taught you how to be manipulative. I was a single dad and you were my princess, so I spoiled you too, though not as much. Because of your upbringing and wealth, you have a disproportionate sense of entitlement. I'm going to give you a lesson in reality." "Are you listening to me?" She nodded, not really paying attention, wondering why the divorce attorney she contacted hadn't set a meeting yet. "Gwen! Look at me! You have no idea what your escapades have cost me. I'll be paying back favors for years, not even mentioning the money." "But I managed to keep Hardy out of jail and to retain his license. It was touch and go for awhile. When Allan refused to press charges, a young assistant D.A. trying to make a name for himself decided to press anyway on behalf of the city. Know what it's like to destroy someone? I was going to, but cooler heads won out. The commissioner, the State Attorney General, and the lt. governor convinced him it wasn't a good idea." "I've decided it's time for some tough love. I'm going to force you to grow up and learn how the real world operates. I'm sorry honey, but you no longer work for the firm. The scandal was just costing us too much. Clients don't like representation that can't keep its' own house in order. So you're gone, I don't have a choice." Her mouth was hanging open. What had he just said? "It gets worse Gwen. You've been funneling most of your salary into stock options, keeping about a fourth in checking. You've always had your trust fund and I've always let you draw off it when you wanted something." "Effective today, you may no longer draw off your trust fund. Your stock options are locked in, you can't cash them out. Your grandmother was pretty smart. There was a section in the trust agreement concerning morality. Should you show weak moral judgement before the trust fund is executed, the trustee can delay the release for years, up to your fiftieth birthday. Your grandmother was a smart old lady, and was afraid you would take after your mother. Don't even think about the townhouse, it's owned by the trust." "So, you're jobless, homeless, and pretty much broke. Here's what's going to happen. You can refuse of course, but you'll find it hard to find a job anywhere on the east coast. And yes, I blackballed you." "If you accept what I offer you and behave, in a year you can come back into the firm. By then someone else will have done something stupid enough to eclipse you. I'll even pay for a good therapist if you can find one where you're going." He handed her some paperwork. "Congratulations, you are now officially the newest A.D.A. of Franklin County,Alabama. You start next week. Your annual salary is $38,000 a year. I,m a college friend of the District Attorney, and he did me a favor." "I've done you a favor, gotten you a nice apartment. I took care of the security deposits, but you'll have to pay the rent out of your salary. You can't take your Lexus, it's leased by the firm, remember? I did lease you a nice Ford Focus, they're supposed to be fun little cars. Again, I took care of the deposits, but you have to make the monthly lease payments. You're also responsible for your own phone and utility bills." "The only condition my old friend put on your employment is a once a month drug test. It'll be discreet, no one will see the results but him. I guess someone told him about your recent problem. Fail once, and you're out of a job, and I won't come to your rescue." "Do this, stay straight, do a good job, prove you're a responsible adult and can take care of yourself, and I'll welcome you home with open arms. Fail, and you better hope they've got openings for junior associates in Iowa or North Dakota." "Oh, and you're not flying. You can't afford it. You'll be going on Amtrak. You're only allowed three bags, so pack carefully." "You can of course refuse, but if you do, be out by tomorrow, or I'll have you removed. I mean it." He got up from the table, leaving her in shock. He turned just before he went out of the room. "One more thing. Hardy is there, running an office for me two counties over. You shouldn't cross paths professionally, but if you do, behave. Oh, something else I forgot. You'll be practicing under your maiden name. Hardy has it in the divorce papers you have to give up his name, so you might as well get used to it." He left her there, tears of hopelessness and despair running down her cheeks. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 02 Here it is, part two. No sex, a little action, and a lot of fleshing out of the main characters. You'll need this knowledge in the next chapters. ................................................ She stepped of the train, tired, miserable after a two day ride. The heat and humidity hit her like a physical slap. "Who the hell would voluntarily live here?" she thought as she dragged her cases behind her. No one offered to help. "So much for the vaunted Southern hospitality you hear about in books and movies. Maybe Hardy put the word out through the redneck grapevine." Thinking his name caused her a brief flash of pain. Yes, damn it, what happened was her fault, but he should have stayed and fought for her. She hadn't put eyes on him since that morning. She begged her father and Crystal Anne to help her. Crystal had just laughed a second before she looked sympathetic. "Girl, he's gone. He isn't coming back. I TOLD YOU, you stupid, arrogant woman, what would happen if he caught you, but you went ahead and did it anyway. Again. And he knows about Paris, Allan emailed him as a parting gift. Mark it up as a lesson learned." "You know what infuriates me? I've known him for almost twenty years, and you were the first person I saw him love. You have no idea how jealous I was, how bad I hated you. But he was happy so I sucked it up." "Now that you've screwed him over, he'll be even more wary, less trusting than ever before. He may never love again. I'm going to do my best to help him, I'm gonna pamper him, give him whatever he needs. In short, I'm going to do my level best to get him to love me." Gwen was surprised at the depth of pain she felt, giving way to blinding anger. "Well good luck with that. He's in Alabama, you're here. That's gonna make it hard to console him. And he's still mine, I'll never let him go! I just need to see him, beg him to listen to me. I can make it up to him, I know I can." Crystal Anne looked at her with pity. "Girl, it's been three months and he still hasn't spoken your name. The closest I heard him come is 'that Yankee cunt'. Give it up, let him have some peace. This is my last week here, I'm going to work for him in the Alabama office. He'll forget you if I have to make it my lifes' work. Goodbye, Gwen. If you find someone else, treat him better than you did Hardy." It was in her mind to physically attack her when she heard her fathers' voice. He took her arm and led her away, after wishing Crystal Anne good luck with her new job and life, offering to bring her back up if it didn't work out. When he got her in his office she exploded. "Daddy, you need to fire that bitch. She's going down there to try to get her hooks in my husband! How could she wish her well?" Her outburst seemed to have no effect on him. He motioned to a chair and curtly told her to sit. "Gwen, I wished her well because she's a good woman and a better employee. What she does with your soon to be ex-husband is none of my business. Not to hurt your feelings, but I think she could make him very happy, maybe give him the children he wanted so desperately with you. Face it child, you threw him away. Don't get mad if someone else picks him up." She started crying again. God, it had been months and she was still at it. Maybe she actually did love him. For the first time he felt a twinge of guilt for trying to manipulate their marriage. Ah well, too late now. He cleared his mind and got to the subject at hand. "You leave for Birmingham at the end of the week. Are you ready?" She nodded. It still shocked her he was making her do this. "As ready as I'll ever be. Please, Daddy, let me stay. Find me a job in another firm. I won't embarrass you." "Gwen, I don't think you could possible embarrass me more than you already have. I tried to smother it, but it was too good a story not to tell. Sex, drugs, infidelity, Christ, all we needed was a rock band to make it perfect. No, in this town, your name is mud, and will be for awhile." "Do your year, get your experience, maybe grow up a little. When the time is right you can come home." Gwen had stopped crying. "Daddy, I'll do it. I'll serve my sentence, I'll behave. But you know, I'll be in the same state as him, pretty close actually. Sooner or later we'll cross paths. I'll get my chance to beg him to come home." "I'll go even more willingly if you will do one thing for me." He looked her over, expecting an outlandish demand. "Ask me. But if I don't like it I'll say no and you'll be gone anyway." She actually got on her knees, something he had never seen her do. "I'm begging here, Daddy. Please help me get a lawyer and try to fight for my marriage. I'll pay for it myself, I've got about nine thousand in checking, I'll pay the retainer. All I want is a chance to talk to him. You've put the word out, no one I've found will even talk to me after they find out who I am. Please, Daddy, please." He had never seen her like this. Maybe there were the beginnings of a decent person there. He thought about it for a few minutes. She remained on her knees, her face a mixture of hope and despair. "All right. I'll get Ivan. But baby, turn this into a circus and we'll all be sorry. Act with some dignity. Your word, please." Damn, she was crying AGAIN. Between sobs she promised everything he wanted to hear. Looking into her eyes, he was convinced she meant it. Ivan Asimov was one of the best divorce lawyers in the state. What made him stand apart is he never went for the throat, preferring mediation and counseling. He was the divorce lawyer you went to when you didn't want a divorce. She had consulted with him twice before leaving. He made her tell him everything, and when she was finished he honestly told her it didn't look good but he would do his utmost. Muttering a small prayer for his success she returned to the task at hand, lugging her cases. She was so wrapped up in what she was doing she didn't even see the man approach her. "Miz Canaday, I presume?" She looked up. He was tall, a bit stooped, in a wrinkled suit. Balding with a sight paunch, he was the epitome of a middle manager. He was holding out his hand. I'm Paul DuPont, district attorney for Jefferson County, your new boss. I promised your daddy I would meet you, help get you settled. Here, give me those bags." Before she could utter a word he got her two largest bags and started walking. He's stronger than he looks, she thought as she followed along. Her bags weighed a ton. When you have to pack your life into three bags, you tended not to waste space. Placing the bags in the trunk of his big Ford, he opened the door for her. Settling into the seat, he turned the air conditioner up as high as it would go. "Sorry about the heat. You're visiting our fair state in the hottest summer in sixty years. You'll get used to it." Not likely, she thought, looking out the window at the browned grasses and tree leaves. She didn't say much, but it didn't matter because he apparently loved the sound of his own voice. "As I live and breath, I never thought I would have the daughter of Greg Canaday on my payroll. Just goes to show you just never know. How is he? Still as big a practical joker as he was in college? Why, I mind the time he stole a bra from our ethics professor to build a catapult for history class. That woman had the biggest chest I ever saw. She was not happy. He tried to defend his actions by saying he was ethically bound to get the best materials available. She didn't buy it, and he spent the rest of her class kissing her bottom, and it was proportional to her chest. She got her revenge by making him escort her to a faculty student mixer. He was scared to death she was gonna want a little more, if you know what I mean." Practical jokes? Stealing bras? This was a side of her dad she had never suspected. He glanced over and saw her expression. "Ah well, we were quite young. Everybody grows up." They rode in silence for a bit. He pulled into the Ford dealership and she looked at him. "We're here to pick up your car. Then, I'll show you to your apartment and you can pick up the keys." "Afterwards, I'll take you by the office and show you around, introduce you to a few of your coworkers." He held her gaze for a moment, and she got a glimpse of the power in him. "Before we get out, I want to clear up a few things. Your daddy told me pretty much how you came to be here. I'll be getting your drug test results. One whiff of anything stronger than a beer and you're gone, no discussion. Do your job as best you can, stay in line, and this year will be over before you know it." "Most of my staff are married. If I even think you've done anything unprofessional you'll be back on a train the same day. What you do on your own time is up to you, but DO NOT try to play where you work. Do you understand?" At first she was outraged, how dare he lecture her. She quickly calmed down, this mess was her own making and she could see his point. "Mr. DuPont, I assure you I will do the best job I can for you, and as for 'playing', it is my deepest desire to get my husband back, so there will be no playing anywhere with anyone." He looked her over and nodded. "I'll hold you to that. Believe it or not, I know your husband. Not to rain on your parade, but I'd bet my bottom dollar you'll never see Hardass again. That boy is a first class hater, I've seen it. Honestly, I'm surprised you're not dead." He must have seen the shock on her face. "What in the world are you talking about? My husband is the sweetest man I ever met. And it's Hardy, not 'Hardass'." He looked at her with sadness. "Girl, some free advice here. Do not tell anyone who your husband is. There's still a few around that think ill of him. He's been known as 'Hardass' since he was seventeen. He's the meanest man I ever saw, including all the killers and whack jobs I sent to Huntsville. There's no stop in him." "I was after him for years, he was into all kinds of things. He went to juvie twice. He got off twice after he came of age because of good lawyers and bad police work. I finally had him dead to rights, but the local sheriff and the judge, who happened to be his father, got him to agree to go into the military in exchange for a clean record. I always wondered what he had on them. But he's back now, and I'm nothing if not patient. Sooner or later he'll revert back to type, and I'll get him." "So keep quiet about him. There's still a lot of people who hate him, and many more who fear him. People who aren't above using you for leverage." It was very quiet in the car for a few minutes. "I'm having a hard time reconciling the man I know to what you told me. He loves people, especially kids. I never even heard him be rude to anyone." "Check the records when you get a chance, just be discreet. He ran a loose group of thugs and petty criminals called 'the redneck mafia'. People were more afraid of him than they were us. At one time, he was considered so mean that if he set the back of your house on fire and stood out front and dared you to come out, most people would think they had a better chance surviving the fire." "But I hope you're right, that he has changed. But if you don't mind, I'll reserve judgement until I have more facts. Now, let's get your car." After a few minutes of paperwork, sign here, sign here, and here, she had her car. A shiny red Ford Focus, it was nice, but was half the size of her Lexus at home. The apartment was two bedroom, small but brand new. It seemed to be a nice neighborhood. The offices were small, cluttered. Apparently space was at a premium. She was introduced around and left in the hands of Karen Thomas, senior a.d.a. "Here it is honey, what you see is what you get. You'll have hardly any privacy, very little time per case, and you better be able to think on your feet. We all share personnel, no one has a private assistant or paralegal, so you have to do a lot of the grunt work yourself. Most of it will be simple, they did it and were dumb enough to get caught. Most times they plead out and it never goes to trial. Paul and I tend to handle the really hard ones. The economy has hurt everyone, driving crime up and our resources down." "Don't worry, we'll throw you softballs until you get a little seasoning. After that it'll be sink or swim. Here's my card. If you need anything, or just want to talk, call me after six. I'll be glad to give you a hand." She paused for a minute to see if she was absorbing anything. Satisfied, and finding them alone in her small office, she spoke again. "Paul and I are the only ones who know who you were married to. I know he warned you, and you know by now he holds a little grudge. I didn't know about his background, but I have been up against him several times in court, and if his killer instincts in court match them out of court, he could be a very dangerous person. Leopards don't change their spots honey, but it your case he may have applied a little whitewash." "Your actions may have washed the paint off, exposing his true colors. Be careful if you end up around him, it could end up badly." Gwen looked at her serious face, and realized she didn't have any idea who she had married, none at all. ................................................. Hardy sat back in his office chair, idly looking out the window. The thermometer on the bank said 103, another scorcher. His time in Boston had softened him, and he was having trouble adjusting to the heat. Time would toughen him up, it always did. Still, he made sure his runs happened very early in the mornings. Glancing ay the email on his screen, his frown deepened. He had been out of the military for years, why the summons? It was pure military babble, but the upshot was he had to present himself to Major Stein, his old doctor, for a follow up visit, strictly routine, according to the wording. It also made clear it was mandatory, and refusal would result in a visit by C.I.D., with orders to bring him in with or without his consent. He sent a confirmation. He would be at Ft. Stewart, Ga. the following week. Realistically, he knew it might do him good to talk to the major. The man probably knew more about him than anyone alive. He hadn't been doing well since the breakup, finding he had to constantly monitor himself to keep from lashing out at the slightest provocation. It wasn't fair to his clients, most were fighting for their very lives, and they needed him at 100%. That night as he got out of the shower, he looked at the scars on his chest, arms, legs, and back. Most were from his time in Iraq, but a few, including one bullet hole, were acquired before he left Alabama. There was only one scar he was proud of, a tiny incision hidden by a tattoo of a snake. A copperhead, as dangerous as a rattler without the benefit of a warning rattle. No one outside his circle of old friends knew the symbolism, he had told Gwen it was a drunken snap decision. When she said he should have it removed, he demurred, telling her it would always remind him to think before acting. ................................................ Major Stein sat in his office, reviewing his notes on Hardy Wilkes. He needn't have bothered, he could remember everything. The man had always intrigued him. Above average in intelligence and size, his good humor and quick wit enabled him to gain friends easily. But when he started peeling the layers of civility away, he realized he was dealing with a very dangerous, very volatile man. His early records showed he responded well to military life, liking the discipline and rigidity of the service. The first indications of trouble came in his seventh week of boot camp. He got the full story from his drill instructor, all Hardy would tell him was he insulted his mother, something you didn't do to someone from the South. The D.I. was a bit more descriptive. "Damn Major, I did not see it coming. Not at all. He just looked like a typical 'good ole boy' from the South." "In every cycle of recruits, there's always one who thinks he's smarter, better, stronger than us. He's the one you have to break to get the others to fall in line. At first I ignored him, concentrating on the shirkers and loudmouths, but then I got to noticing him. He never smarted off, never disobeyed, but he had that glint in his eye, you know the one that says 'I'm doing this because I choose to, not because you think you can make me.' I decided to cure him of that." "I gave him every dirty job, extra duty, rode his ass. He did everything I told him to with that stupid half grin of his, like he thought it was funny. It was driving me crazy." "I did something I hadn't done in years. I engineered a scene where I was riding him hard in front of the other recruits. I was giving him shit and asked him if he was scared of me." "The little half grin was back. 'No sir, Top, I'm not. I respect you, but I don't fear you.'" "I was losing control. I told him and the rest of the recruits to report for special duty one hour after chow, behind the barracks, stripped to the waist." When he showed up I was waiting with two more D.I.s, we were also stripped to the waist. "Alright," I said, "there's no rank here, no one will report this. If any man thinks he can whip my ass, step up." "Of course no one did, so I started taunting a few others before for I got to Wilkes." "Get up here, you dumb redneck, let's see what somebody unafraid can do." "He just laughed. HE LAUGHED. Then he said since there was no rank here he could feel free to call me a dumbass and walk away. Just like that, I had totally lost control of the situation." "He was walking off when I yelled at him." "Walk off, pussy boy. I bet your momma would be real proud of the chickenshit she raised." "I finally got a reaction from him. He whirled around, eyes blazing." "My momma didn't raise me, she died when I was young. Didn't anyone ever teach you to respect the dead?" "I had him, I had his trigger." "I started calling his mother every name I could think of. I told him I would talk bad about his daddy, but since his momma was such a cheating slut he probably didn't know who he was." "I saw the cheating remark really worked. He was getting really worked up and I got ready for his rush, when he suddenly smiled at me. The he calmly walked forward, stopped about a inch from my face, looked me right in the eye." "I'll never forget what he said as long as I live." "You got anybody you want to send a goodbye message, now's the time. In about thirty seconds I'm fixin' to start beating you, and I won't stop until you're dead." "Now, Doc, I've been in combat, and before I was a D.I. I taught advanced hand to hand combat courses, so I'm a pretty good scrapper. But if it hadn't been for the other D.I.s and the recruits, there isn't a doubt in my mind I'd be stone cold dead right now." "I got in a few good licks, but he had skills I never dreamed of, and he wouldn't stop, even when I did. It took seven to pull him off me. I lost two teeth, had seven broke ribs, a cracked femur and two broken toes. Hells bells, Doc, he even bit me. Took four stitches to close it up!" He broke the nose of one D.I., and got a few good licks in on the other before the recruits subdued him by basically laying all over him. The other D.I. got us to the infirmary, The recruits said they had to lay on him for forty five minutes before he calmed down." "Of course shit hit the fan, you don't hide that many injuries, and word got out. He would have been drummed out of the corps and I would have been retired, but he stepped up and told the C.O. it was an advanced hand to hand training exercise for the recruits that just got out of hand." Boston to Birmingham Ch. 02 "He knew it was pure horseshit, but it made it go away, so he accepted it. He also had Hardy assigned to long range recon school, you know, the toughest of the tough. After that I don't know what happened to him." The major knew. Top of the class in recon training, one tour of Iraq resulting in two purple hearts and three reprimands. A year stateside, training others, then back in the mix. He was halfway through the second tour at the time of the 'incident'. He recalled the reports, including the interview with the lieutenant in charge. "We were pinned down in a small valley, never saw it coming. The Taliban were dug into the crest of a hill. they had full range, we only had a small window. I already had two dead and three wounded. Every time one of us tried to move they dusted us. The wounded needed medical attention, and our comms were down, couldn't get a signal. Atmospheric abnormality, they said later. I was sweating it, when a voice I never heard before said almost in my ear. 'Damn, lt, what kind of shit have ya'll got yourselves into?' I freaked." "This guy just eased right up on us, we never even saw him coming. Tall, lanky, grey eyes and a stupid grin on his face." "How did you get here?" "Same way you did, I was just a little quieter. They're trying to flank you, but the first two guys they sent out met Allah a little early. Ya'll hold tight, this might take awhile." "And just like that he was gone, leaving his pack and rifle. I watched him for awhile, and it seemed like he just disappeared." "About an hour later I thought he had just slipped away, when shooting broke out in the cave, followed by a lot of screaming and what sounded like an animal growling. It quieted down after about ten minutes, except for what sounded like a girl screaming. Our interpreter said it was a kid, yelling he was surrendering, begging for his life, asking Allah to save him from the demon." I took a chance and we rushed the cave. There was seven men in it, and five of them was dead. One survivor was a kid, we found out later he was fifteen, huddled in the smallest crevice he could find in the back of the cave, begging for his life." "The other man alive was Hardy. He had been shot three times, once through the right arm, breaking it. He had broken his left leg when he dropped into the cave, he said later it was deeper than he thought. He had been stabbed twice, and still had an AK hanging off his back by the bayonet." "His sidearm had jammed on sand after the fourth shot. He managed to kill three before it did, then went to work with his knife. One guy was stabbed through the heart, but the other must have put up quite a scrap. He was cut and stabbed at least ten times. The kid had panicked, it was his first time in combat." "What had him freaked though, was that even as wounded as he was, Hardy had his knife in his left hand, and was sticking it into the sand, dragging his body towards the boy. There wasn't a doubt in our mind he intended to kill him as soon as he got close enough." "The medic had to hit him twice with morphine to knock him out. He was swinging the knife at us, it took fifteen minutes for him to realize we weren't the enemy." "We back trailed him while we waited for the chopper and found five more Taliban enjoying Paradise, all with cut throats." "It turns out one of the guys he killed was the son of a Taliban bigwig, and the boy was his grandson. It got so hot for blondes they brought in hair dye for awhile." "We even got blonde wigs and started leaving tufts around on patrol, just to mess with their minds, you know. Of course he was back stateside by the time all that happened." "You know, you hear all these wild stories while you're over there, but I never thought it was real until then. He was one of those guys they sent out, alone, with orders to create as much havoc as possible. I wonder if you went down his back trail how many good Taliban are now enjoying their seventy two virgins. That was the meanest man I ever saw." The major remembered when he first treated him. PTSD was just coming into vogue, and the military was understandably concerned. They wanted a full profile before they returned him to civilian life. He had read the original profile, the man should have been bounced over the D.I. incident. When he finally met him, he was surprised. He seemed a laid back, happy country boy, with a smile on his face. It took a long time to get the full picture of his mindset and moral values. It wasn't until he discussed his childhood that he made his first breakthrough. The smile had disappeared, remembering tougher times. He remembered his words exactly. "I was twelve, my sister was eleven. My dad was a small time career criminal, always into something, always going to jail for short periods. Finally he got caught for grand theft auto, running cars into chop shops. His lawyer told him he was going away, but he would try to minimize the sentence." "The lawyer said he would get bail reduced, but it would take a few days. Finally, grandpa posted bail. Mom and the lawyer were going to get him out the next day, but he hitched a ride back to the house to surprise mom. When we got home from school he was sitting in his truck." "He got out and met us, taking us to the truck. I remember he had blood on his white tee shirt." "Kids, we're gonna sit out here for awhile. I need to tell you something. I love you both, with all my heart. I'm going away, probably for a long while. Hardy, I want you to be a man now, and watch out for your sister. Don't let anything happen to her. Promise me, son." "I did. He turned to my sister." "Sissy, you're going to be as pretty as your momma. Find a good man, love him as hard as you can. And promise me, swear on your soul, you'll never cheat on him. I know you don't understand now, but you will later." "He held us, crying. It was the only time I ever saw him cry. We could hear the sirens, and soon three sheriff department cars slid into the yard." "The first cop was Will Rob Williams. He was just a deputy then, but later he got elected sheriff. He was a friend of the family, his daughter was a year behind Sissy, and mom used to babysit for them. I was surprised to see him with his pistol out." "Jimmy,[that was my dad's name]step away from the kids." "He stood up, spreading his arms out. He was calm." "Will Rob, I ain't got a gun, it's laying on the floor in the bedroom. I called you guys. I surrender, try not to scare my kids anymore than you have to." "He held his hands out to be cuffed. Will Rob cuffed him and put him in the car before going into the house. He didn't know it, but I was right behind him." "He caught them in bed together, naked and doing the nasty, pulled an old revolver out of the dresser, and emptied it into them. I went into shock. It took a long time to get over it." "Two years later my dad was killed in a prison riot, protecting a guard." "Truth be told, I never got over it. I got into trouble, ran with the wrong crowd, ended up in juvie a couple of times. Then I got popped for of all things, running hot cars into a chop shop. Will Rob and the judge gave me a chance. Join the military and keep a clean adult record." "I actually like the military, but it's not going to be a career. If I'm here, it's a pretty good indication ya'll don't want that either." The major asked him why he went after the boy when he obviously was trying to surrender. "When I dropped into the cave, he was the one manning the machine gun, grinning like it was the most fun he ever had. One thing I learned a long time ago, never let a live snake get behind you. If he hadn't panicked, I'd be the dead one and he would have been the toast of his village. I wasn't about to let him live to kill again." He said it in a calm manner, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. He was right, he would never be career material, too unstable. There were plenty out there who would recruit him, an unstable mind and killer instincts made him very desirable, but the major fought against that. He was surprised to find Hardy had taken every educational opportunity offered, and needed one more semester to get a degree in business. He would be in rehab for at least another year, so the major tried to steer him into continuing his education. He never saw him as a lawyer, but he had the right skill set. Intelligence, killer instincts, deceptive, perceptive, able to think on his feet. By the time physical and psychological rehab was over, the major was convinced Hardy could control his temper and instincts enough to become a productive citizen. Nevertheless, he had him placed on a watch list. In the end he diagnosed him with PTSD, and only he knew it didn't have anything to do with the military, but an incident in the life of a twelve year old. Now it appeared he had slipped. If he didn't give a good report after his interview, he wasn't sure what was going to happen. ................................................ Gwen hated her life, hated it. Dealing day to day with the dregs of society has a tendency to suck the joy out of life. It took a little getting used to. Her first case was grand theft auto. It was cut and dried, the guy was caught in the car, switch popped and cranked with a screwdriver that had his prints all over it. Of course he denied it, saying he borrowed the car from a friend, who didn't have a name or address. The young black man denied even being in the car later. Gwen couldn't believe it. The public defender knew she had no experience and tried to get him probation. While she was new to litigation, she was no stranger to negotiations, and that turned out to be sixty percent of her job. Karen was sitting in, and she wanted to make a good impression. She sat back and looked them over, letting them sweat. "Bullshit!" she exploded. "Your client is on the dash cam being pulled out of the car, cursing and screaming. He had crack in his pocket and had a blood alcohol level of .10, two points over the legal limit. His record took three sheets to print out." "I'm new here and I'd love to go to trial, just to hone my skills. I HAVE to offer you a deal, but I really hope you don't take it." "Something about your client makes me want to go to the bathroom. Here's the deal, plead guilty to grand theft and I'll forget about the drugs and the drinking. I'll even try to get him in rehab. You've got until I come back to make up your mind. If you don't take the deal, I prosecute for everything and the sentence triples. With his priors, it'll be a while before he boosts another car." She got up, leaving Karen, the p.d., and the perpetrator sitting with their mouths open. She really did have to go to the bathroom, and when she came out Karen was standing there grinning. "They took the deal before you had time to flush. The public defender will probably go back and tell the rest of his office about the new hardass Yankee a.d.a." "I think you might do well here, but I have to warn you, they won't all be that easy." They weren't. The workload was horrendous. She started taking work home, it wasn't like she had anything else to do. It got her noticed. Paul called her into his office. "Girl, I'm impressed, you got the makings to be a hell of a trial lawyer. That being said, lighten up. All work and no play yada yada yada. Go out, have a few, talk trash, flirt with the locals. Rumors are already floating around about the Ice Queen from the frozen North. You'd be amazed how many guys want to thaw you out." Before she had a chance to explode he changed subjects. "How's the divorce going? I know you still wear your ring, that's why the wolves haven't tried to take you down, but if word gets out you're in the middle of a divorce they'll come after you hard." She sighed. Ivan was really good and had thrown up roadblocks, pushing for mandatory counseling. So far his efforts had been blocked, and oddly, Hardys' lawyer didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry. It had been six months since the destruction of her marriage and she still hadn't seen or talked to him. "I don't know how it's going. Everything is at a standstill. I can't talk to him and he won't talk to me. I'm starting to lose hope." Damn it, she couldn't believe she could still cry over him. It was worst late at night, when she rolled over, expecting him to snuggle her and kiss her forehead like he always did, and wake up to find she was alone. She would go out for drinks after work on Fridays with Karen and a few friends from the office, catch a movie with a female friend or two, but that was about it. She joined a gym and worked out to relieve stress. The loneliness and lack of affection was killing her. She would have sold her soul for a chance to see Hardy again. She got her wish in a most unexpected way. A small man, obviously in his late sixties or early seventies, and a tall woman, maybe mid-forties, came to see her, showing up at her apartment. She didn't know them, but as soon as they stated their business she couldn't get them inside fast enough. "You don't remember us, but we were at your wedding. I'm Joshua Hardy. Hardy Wilkes is my grandson. This here is Hildy Baker, my niece. If it's not too much bother, we'd like to set a spell with you." She settled them into the living room, asking if them would like a drink. Hildy asked for iced tea, and frowned when she told her all she had was unsweetened. Gwen still wasn't used to the syrupy sweet concoction Southerners consumed with gusto. Joshua wanted a beer. They both took a St. Pauli Girl, her favorite beer and one of the few treats she allowed herself. After an appreciative swallow, the old man started. "We're here about Hardy. He ain't doing good, not at all. As a matter of fact, he's been seeing the shrink he had when he was in service, and won't talk about it. He's edgy, and the whole family is walking mighty soft around him. You know first hand what he can do when he gets pissed. We need your help." Tears formed again, she couldn't help it. "I'd love to help you, but the last thing in the world he wants is to see me, he's made that abundantly clear. That being said, I'll do anything you want." Joshua cleared his throat. "He's still got it bad for you. I know for a fact he has a picture of you on his dresser. He said it was to remind him how stupid he had been, but I don't think even he believes it. He's deeply ashamed of what he did when he caught you in bed with that man. Not for beating him, or slapping you, but for what he did afterwards." Gwen fought an almost uncontrollable urge to rub her left breast. There is no easy way to remove superglue, and a good bit of skin came off in the process. It was even worse for Allan, he lost a lot of skin in a most uncomfortable place. It was so painful he had to be sedated and take pills later to keep him from getting an erection while he healed. She didn't know it, but the memory was so traumatic for him that it was months before he could maintain an erection and perform in bed. "It was pretty painful for me, too. If he wanted to give me an object lesson about cheating, he succeeded. What he doesn't know is that I was drugged, and what was happening was basically rape. I even vaguely remember trying to fight him off." Hildy had perked up with that information. "If that's true it could help. Do you have proof?" "I can get a copy of the tox screen they ran at the hospital. Would that help?" She frowned. "It might. But, Hardy told us you had done it before with that man, in Paris. Anything to that?" Gwen flushed, there was no easy way to explain it. "I'm ashamed to say there is. And there were drugs involved, but I took them willingly. It was just a monumentally stupid and selfish thing, even I don't know why I did it." Joshua spoke sadly. "Well, that might just tear it. If it had been one time and you had been drugged, he might let it go. But twice? I don't think he will." He went on to tell her about Hardys' mother and father, and how it caused his unrelenting hatred of cheating spouses. She paled as she heard the story. "It gets worse, I'm afraid. Did you know he has a sister? He hasn't seen or talked to her in ten years. Why? Because he effectively banished her from the family. She got married, a good boy. Two years later she cheated on him and Hardy caught her. He beat the hell out of her and her lover. Then he beat her husband for allowing it to happen, even though he never had a clue." "They reconciled about three months later and moved out of state because they were afraid of him. She's got three kids now, great grandchildren I never see unless I go to her because she's afraid to come back." "Her lover disappeared without a trace, left his car, clothes, everything. To this day there's a pond way out in the boonies no one will fish in." The news had her reeling. Had she really married such a monster? Why did she still love him so desperately and want him back? "Please, Mr. Hardy, how can I help? I'll do anything!" "Well, if you're willing, the first thing we need to do is get you face to face. The family reunion is always held the second Saturday in September. That's three weeks away. He never misses one. I always wondered why you didn't come, but no matter. Be there and we'll make sure you get together where we can watch you in case it gets ugly. Are you willing?" She nodded, not trusting her voice. "Good, good. Come out this Sunday for dinner. That's lunch to you Yankees. I'd like to talk to you some more. Give Hildy your number, she'll give you directions. Thank you for your time." They rose to leave, and she surprised everyone by kissing his cheek and hugging Hildy. She stood back embarrassed but he patted her cheek and Hildy smiled. "See you Sunday. Get there before noon." She stood and watched them drive off in the older model pickup, having hope for the first time in months. ................................................. Hardy was restless, still on edge. The session with Major Stein was rough, and he was surprised when he set up a standing appointment every two weeks. He had even prescribed a drug to help him relax. He hated taking it, it was like admitting he was crazy, but he did. It actually seemed to help. Crystal coming home also helped, but he knew she had an agenda so he limited his time with her. He didn't want to lead her on, just was not interested in a relationship right now. She knew it, but still made it plain she was available. The cases helped. Greg had given him free rein to pursue cases he thought were worth taking. There was no shortage, services of his caliber were hard to come by, especially if it was free. Most were cases of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some were guilty, but mitigating circumstances came into play. He tried to get the innocent absolved and the guilty treated fairly. His reputation was growing, and he received job offers from premier firms all over the country. Greg talked to him almost weekly. He knew he wanted to talk about his daughter, but every time he came anywhere near it Hardy would shut down the conversation and hang up. Hardy didn't know, but Greg was also keeping close tabs on his daughter, and was pleased with what he saw. Paul had very positive things to say about her, but voiced concerns about her mental health. "All she does is work and go home, and half the time she takes work home with her. Her drug tests so far are clear. She's like a recluse, as far as I know she doesn't even shop. How unhealthy is that for a woman?" He still talked to her once a week, and the conversations were all the same. She would talk about a case she had in generalities and ask his advice. Then she would ask if Ivan had any news for her. The answer was always the same. He was working on it. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 02 What he didn't tell her was that he had a little talk with Hardys' attorney, suggesting he take his time filing motions. The man was shocked that someone as prominent as Greg suggest he not look out for the best interests of his client, but they were old friends, and Greg convinced him, along with Ivan, that maybe divorce was not in anyone's best interest. So things slowed to glacial speed. The only bright spot for Hardy was reconnecting with his family, cousins mostly, on his mothers' side. His dad had one brother, who died in Vietnam, and one sister, who died in a car crash at an early age. He and his sister were the only heirs to his grandfathers' farm. He was especially fond of Aunt Hildy, she was as close to a mother as he was ever going to have. He ate Sunday dinner with his grandfather and whatever cousins would show up almost every week. Even though they were related only through his daughter, they still treated Joshua like a grandparent, maybe because he was a good man, or maybe because their grandparents were mostly gone, and family was important in their lives. He often thought that his family was a matriarchal society. They respected his grandfather, but Aunt Hildy was the arbitrator in disputes, confidant to the younger generation, and final law. No one thought to question her. Luckily she was blessed with an innate wisdom and an abundance of common sense. This was pretty much standard through the South. If you saw someone, the first thing they said was "How's your momma and them?", them being the rest of the family. Pretty much put their priorities in perspective. Usually everybody that came brought a side dish, there was always plenty of fried chicken, pork chops, hamburgers, or steaks to go round. If there wasn't, they fixed more. It was the bright spot in his week. He was terribly disappointed that he had to travel and miss this week. ............................................... Gwen didn't know what to expect, so when Hildy gave her some advice, she was grateful. Not much of a cook, she showed up at nine with two cases of St. Pauli, ready to help Hildy. Joshua was pleased to see the beer, and iced it down while Hildy gave him dire warnings of what would happen if he started on it before dinner. By ten people started showing up. Gwen had mastered the art of tea making and had several gallons ready to be chilled. The introductions flew, and she knew she would never keep up. "Don't worry, child, it'll come to you. Right now, just smile and be polite. They'll warm up to you pretty fast." What disconcerted her the most was the teens and younger people addressing her as Aunt Gwen. Again Hildy interpreted. "Be proud. When they address an older female as aunt, no matter what the familial relationship, it's a sign of respect and acceptance. By now they all know who you are, but most will be too polite to bring it up. Now, help me with the burgers and hot dogs." It was the most enjoyable afternoon she had had since coming south. After the meal she found herself surrounded by women from their teens and early twenties, to a few in their late fifties, sitting in the shade of an oak grove, while the men went off to throw horseshoes and drink beer. The questions soon flew. Was she really a lawyer? What was Boston like? Did she like it here? The questions seemed endless. Then one of them brought up the elephant in the room. What was Uncle Hardy like? To the younger generation, he was stuff of legend. A war hero, married to a Boston belle, defender of the weak and downtrodden. She chose her answers carefully. "He's the best man I ever met. Kind, considerate of all. A true Southern gentleman." One girl was persistent. "If he's so great, why aren't you together anymore? The family talks you know. You're down in Birmingham and he's up here. I heard he beat you up." Tears formed but she refused to let them fall. "He didn't beat me up. He hit me once, in what he thought was self defense. He's not with me right now because I was a weak, foolish person, and I did something so bad he lost respect for me. I'm trying to fix that." Hildy had been listening. "Melissa Sue, mind your tongue and your manners. Your Aunt Gwen could use a little support right now." Melissa Sue apologized immediately, and gave her a hug. That broke the dam, and the tears flowed. The girls immediately went into sister mode, hugging her in turn. She couldn't help it, for the first time she could grieve in public, and the tears were a long time stopping. Later, as she helped with the cleanup, Hildy gave her words of encouragement. "You made some friends today. You didn't lie, you stood up and took responsibility. They respect that. Don't be pushy, they think that's a Yankee trait and they don't respond well to it. Just be you, and they'll come around. Now, you have to take some leftovers home. I'll get the Tupperware." Hildy hugged her and Joshua surprised everyone there by kissing her cheek. That simple act solidified her standing in the clan. She was thinking as she drove away of the many social events she had attended through the years, the black tie affairs, the brunches, the formal dinners, the power lunches, and none compared to sitting down at a picnic table with people who considered her family, who weren't impressed with her social standing or money, who she was just 'Aunt Gwen' to, no more, no less. ................................................. The mood was somber at work that Monday, but for the first time in a long time she had hope for the future. As she prepared for another day of defending the public interests, Paul called her into his office. Karen was there, she couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt like something bad was about to happen. Paul seemed uncertain, rambling. She let him go on for awhile before she broke in. "For goodness sake, Paul, what's going on?" He sighed. "Let me give you a little history lesson. We got troubles, for some reason we're right in the middle of a drug corridor. They bring it in through the swamps and bayous of Louisiana as well as our coast and the coast of Mississippi and from there it's a straight shot north. You know how many interstates cross right in town. We've made some arrests, some big seizures, but they're just a drop in the bucket. We've noticed more 'retail' traffic lately, and have determined that the cartel that's moving through has decided to move in. They're muscling local dealers, turf wars are starting to break out. It's getting messy." "Saturday we got a break. One of the county deputies stopped a car that was weaving. The guy was stoned, and had enough coke in his car to constitute a felony distribution charge." "The guy that got popped is Raul Escobar, nephew of the cartel leader, Don Vincente. They have a history in Mexico of doing in cops and prosecutors involved with one of their major players. Rumors are already floating." "This one could be bad. It probably won't go to trial for another few months, but right now he's in jail with no bond because he's a foreign national and a huge flight risk." "I want you to try the case. You've got no relatives here, there not much of a way they can get to you. Will you take it?" She sat for a minute, thinking. "In other words, I'm the sacrificial lamb. I'll be gone in a few months, and no one locally will get the fallout, except maybe you and the cop. Minimizing risk, counselor?" He had the good grace to look ashamed. "Basically, that's it in a nutshell. They got nothing to threaten you with. If they check your background, I don't think even they are stupid enough to threaten you father. If they check on your husband they'll find the same thing. We will, of course, keep an eye on you. Think you can do it?" She smiled. "Give me the file." ................................................. Hardy wasn't in the best of moods. His cousin and close friend had just dropped by, and the news wasn't good. They hugged, got caught up on each others' lives. Harry was married and had two kids, both boys. His wife was rather plain, but the love he had for her made her beautiful, at least to him. Harry had been his second in command in his wilder, younger days. Not a planner, he was very good at executing. Dependable, loyal, not afraid to speak, they made a good team. When Hardy left for the military, another cousin, Roy, had stepped into the power vacuum and took over. He didn't have Hardys' finesse or style, but he got things done. Harry was there with a problem. Roy had been eyeing the armored car that serviced the local Wal-Mart. His sources said it was a two to three hundred thousand score, and that made it very attractive. He had made a plan, and wanted Harry to do the job. When he started, Hardy stopped him. "Hold up, slick. I'm an officer of the court now. Don't tell me about anything illegal, I'll be duty bound to report it." He saw the disappointment in Harry's face. "But, say, if you were talking about a hypothetical situation, and wanted to pick my brain as a lawyer, I would not be adverse to offering an opinion." "Thanks, Hardy. I got a body shop, I'm making good money, enough to support my family. I'm getting a little long in the tooth for wild shit like Roy has in mind. Now, say this was really going down, and these were the plans, think it would work?" He looked it over. "Whoever does this is looking at a minimum of seven years in the federal prison. This is the same as robbing a bank. This plan wouldn't work. Too much time lag. You know those things have gps, streaming video, panic buttons, plus they're a lot stronger than they used to be. Whoever did this would have to be in and out in less than ten minutes, and that includes subduing the armed guards and off loading the cash. You can't do it on that time frame. I suggest you tell whoever set up these hypothetical plans to forget it and hit an easier target." "Thanks Hardy, I appreciate it." They shook hands and Hardy gave him some cards. "Here, just in case one of the cousins run into trouble. Tell them to say I'm their lawyer and nothing else until I get there. Got it?" Harry turned down the job, citing Hardys' analysis. Roy got three of the younger cousins to do it anyway. They were in custody before an hour had elapsed. Hardy got them to plead them out, they didn't have a choice. They were too loyal to rat on anyone, saying it was their own idea. Each got seven to ten in federal prison. Roy was upset and sent word to Hardy to stay out of his business. Hardy sent back word he needed to stop making plans that got kids locked up. Roy was worried. His people were starting to question him. Things had not been going well for him lately, a new player was moving in, revenue was down, and he didn't see a good end in sight. On top of all that, he felt he was being undermined by Hardy. "I need to teach that prick a lesson. But if I touch Hildy or Joshua, the cousins not in the business could make it very uncomfortable for us. Too bad there's nothing I can use for leverage." Ronnie Wilkes was his enforcer. What he didn't have in brains he made up for with size and brutality. Plus, he had never liked Hardy because he didn't seem to fear him. "Wal, cousin, There's always his old lady. They're split up, but you know how he is about people messing with things that belong to him." Roy snorted. "I ain't going all the way to Yankee land to go after his bitch. I need something local." Ronnie grinned. "Don't have to, she's an assistant d.a. right here in Jefferson County. Cousin Bertie told me, after making me swear I wouldn't tell anyone. She's going by her maiden name, Canaday. If we stop by and pay her visit he might get the message." Harry was listening to the conversation, and gave his opinion. "I think that is probably the stupidest idea you've ever had, Roy. They didn't give him the nickname 'hardass' because he could sit on uncomfortable furniture. This might blow up on you, make you look mighty foolish." Ronnie scoffed. "He's old news. A freakin' lawyer, how tough can he be? I bet he's soft as jello and can't walk up the courthouse steps without losing his breath." Harry actually laughed. "You keep thinkin' that. I'll put it on your tombstone. I've seen him, boy, he's bigger than ever and it ain't flab. But, see for yourself. Don't think for a minute when this little plan goes to hell I won't be there saying I told you so." He walked out, still laughing. They scouted her. She was a creature of habit, always arriving home at about six. She hardly ever went out. He couldn't believe how easy it was to get her to let them in. All they had to say was they were cousins and had a message from Hardy, and she practically dragged them into the house. ................................................ Gwen didn't like the looks of the two men, but when they introduced themselves and mentioned Hardy, she took off the safety chain and let them in. It happened so fast she didn't have time to react. The big one grabbed her and zip strapped her to a kitchen chair, shoving a gag into her mouth. The older one took another chair and sat it in front of her. "Listen Missy, I get some promises from your old man and we leave quietly. He bows up on us the least little bit and your life could get unpleasant. I'll start with letting Ronnie get to know you a little better and go from there. If I take your gag off, you promise not to scream? I need you to speak so Hardy knows I'm really here with you. Got it? Now, I'm gonna call him, you just set tight." She nodded. When the gag came off she smiled. It gave Roy the creeps. "You know who my husband is and you're dumb enough to do this? I hope he lets me watch when he gets hold of you. And if you're depending on me to call him, you're out of luck. I don't know any of his numbers." Speaking with more confidence that he had, he told her not to worry, he had the number. "I'm gonna put it on speaker so he can hear us." He picked up on the third ring. "Hardy Wilkes." "Hardy, Roy here. I hear you been snooping around my business. I don't like people in my business. I got a woman here who wants to say hello." He held the phone up to her. Staring straight into his eyes, she spoke. "Hardy, honey, I want you to tear them a new ass." Roy snatched the phone back. "That's right, I'm here with your woman. We don't want this to get ugly, now do we?" "Why would it get ugly, Roy? Great minds must think alike. I heard you wanted to talk and stopped by your house. You sure got a nice family." It was the first time she had ever seen a man look like he was going to faint. "Now, Hardy, don't...." Hardy talked right over him. "Your wife sure makes good pie. I brought a little surprise for you. I got your daughter June sitting on my lap, swinging on the front porch. I had to come out here to get signal. She sure wiggles a lot for a six year old. Here June bug, tell your daddy what I brought you." A child's excited voice was heard, "Daddy, guess what? Uncle Hardy brought us tickets to Six Flags! They got rides and everything! He says we're going this weekend. Isn't Uncle Hardy the best? Are you coming home soon Daddy?" "That's enough, June bug. Let me finish talking to your daddy. See if your momma will give me another piece of that pecan pie, okay?" You could hear the little girl scurry off, calling for her mother. Roy spoke up, the nervousness in his voice. "Now, Hardy, let's not let this get out of hand. I.." "Shut the fuck up, asshole. You need to spend more time with your family. You know kids like June bug disappear every day, right? And your oldest, boy, I bet she's already breaking hearts. Be careful, watch her close. Beautiful girls like her could end up in some big trouble if you're not careful. You hear what I'm saying, Roy?" Roy was opening and closing his mouth like a fish trying to breath air. Gwen couldn't help it, she spoke up. "I think he hears you just fine, honey." "Good. Now, I think you need to get on home to your family. You're going to Six Flags this weekend. Three days and two nights, all expenses paid. A client gave it to me as a bonus, and I don't have a family to enjoy it with. I'm gonna call June bug Monday. If she doesn't say she had a great time I'm gonna be pissed. You really wouldn't like me to be pissed." "And Roy, you're right, your business isn't mine and I don't do that sort of thing anymore. But, Roy, my business is my business, and don't go poking in it, you understand? Until I get the divorce papers, she's still my business." "If Ronnie is there, tell him if she says he knocked one hair out of place, I'll cut his hand off, one finger at a time. Nowhere he can hide, no one he can hide behind. You understand me?" Roy finally got his voice back. "Whatever you want Hardy, you got. I'm sorry we had this misunderstanding. If there's ever anything you want, just say the word. Please Hardy, leave my family alone." He was almost crying. "Well, Roy, I'm glad we cleared this up. Remember, if June bug doesn't have a good time this weekend, I'll be looking to you for answers. And I'm taking the rest of this pie home with me, if I can talk your wife out of it. Kiss your family for me when you get home. You don't know how lucky you are." The line went dead. They were very gentle removing her restraints. "Please tell him we didn't mean nothing, and that we didn't hurt you. Please." She laughed. "You assholes. If he had wavered just a little bit I'm sure I would have had a very bad evening. I'm going to tell him you roughed me up and that Ronnie boy let his hands wander. Tell me which funeral home you think will handle your services and I'll send flowers. Now, get the hell out of my house!" They almost ran out the door. She leaned against it. So much for the 'redneck mafia' that Hardy had built before he got shipped off to the military. "He still loves me. He threatened a whole family for me. I got to hear his voice. All in all, a good day." Six months ago that would have filled her with horror. She went to bed and slept like a baby. ................................................. She dressed, undressed, dressed again for the reunion. Hildy said they would be outside most of the day, wear something comfortable and light. She finally settled on a modest white tank top and green cargo shorts. It seemed to hit the right balance of comfortable but attractive. Hair and makeup were totally different matters. Being outside, she went light on the makeup, and put her hair up in a style that looked spontaneous but every woman knew took quite a bit of work. She discovered she enjoyed shorter hair, and it was nowhere near as long or complicated as it used to be. She rehearsed over and over what she wanted to say if she got a chance to talk to him. They were cooking whole hogs, chickens, even a side of beef. Four cookers were going full blast when she got there, and the smell was unbelievable. Joshua was watching for her arrival. Hopefully he was glad to see her, but it could be the five cases of beer, St. Pauli of course. She had gotten him hooked, and he almost started a riot with the guys tending the kegs when he said it was better than Bud. Hildy grabbed her, shoved an apron in her hands, and sent her to the kitchen. She was greeted by a chorus of "Hey, Aunt Gwen", many of them she was sure she had never met. They put her on the slaw line, and for ninety minutes she ran cabbage through a food processor. The men were setting up tables and carrying the side dishes out. She kept looking for Hardy. Hildy noticed. "Relax, hon. He's coming. One of the cousins got into a little scrape and he had to go down and smooth it over. He's on his way. Why don't you go freshen up? This kitchen hasn't done much for your hair." Boston to Birmingham Ch. 02 So much for the elaborate simplicity she was going for. She finally gave up, combed her damp mop into a simple ponytail, and hoped for the best. Finally they gathered for the blessing. You always have a blessing at these events, whether you believe or not. A few of the cousins had a band. They had set a stage up for later, and they handed a microphone to Hildy. "I'm gonna do my Minnie Pearl imitation. HOWDEEEE!" The sound echoed off the low hills. A chorus of "Howdee" came back to her. She held her hands in mock disappointment. "Ya'll forget. I'm related to you. I know you can get louder than that. We ain't gonna eat until I'm satisfied. HOWDEEEEEEEEEEE!" They probably heard them in the next town. "That's better. Thanks so much for coming. There ain't nothin' better'n family. Before we eat, make sure you thank the cooks, some of them have been at it for hours. And thank the ladies for the side dishes and great looking desserts." "Now, bow your head, and let's remember the ones who can't be here, and the ones that will never be here again. Keep them in your hearts." After a short silence she spoke up again. "God, thank you for friends and family. We ain't nothing without them. Bless the new arrivals to the clan, and hold the departed near to you. Help the ones that are lost find their way back home. Help the ones estranged find their way back to the fold and each other. Help us be better people. Bless this food and all present. Amen." There was a rousing response of "Amen!", followed by a scramble to the tables. Gwen stood, transfixed by the blessing, and then added her own prayer, the most heartfelt she had ever done. Hildy hugged her. "Come on girl, before they eat it all." She wasn't sure exactly what she ate. There was something called burgoo, made with mutton, a cousin from over the Tennessee line brought. Another from the coast of South Carolina brought Brunswick stew, which tasted great once you got over how much it looked like it had already been eaten and lost. There were about twenty homemade barbeque sauces, from sticky sweet to blistering hot. Green beans, butterbeans, blackeyed peas, Lima beans, corn on the cob, fried corn, creamed corn. Kale, collards, mixed greens, tender greens, rape, sweet potatoes, sweet potato casserole. Potato salad, fried potatoes, hash brown casserole. Fried squash, okra, sliced onions, sliced tomatoes, cucumbers. Pickles of every description made from just about anything. Dishes she couldn't be sure what was in them. Gwen didn't know why the tables didn't collapse. And desserts, oh my. Carrot cake, chocolate cake, fresh coconut cake, Appalachian stack cake,upside down pineapple cake, banana bread, apple pie[fried and baked]peach pie, coconut pie, chocolate pie, pecan pie, strawberry pie, blueberry pie, cupcakes, cookies, gelatin molds. She felt her arteries harden and waistline expand just looking. Health concerns didn't stop anybody from digging in, so she grabbed a plate and stepped up. They knew she wasn't familiar with a lot of the foods, and they made a production of introducing them to her. Try cousin Freds' fried chicken, Aunt Zelda's carrot salad, the greens, the beans. She thought she was going to explode as the jibes got more pointed when they got comfortable with her. Taste this sauce, Yankee girl, don't be a wuss. Yeah, it's hot, kill this beer, it'll help. Don't hurt her feelings, eat it. Hildy rescued her. "Stop it, or she'll be known as the girl that ate Alabama. She'll be around for awhile, she'll try it all later. Stop before she pops!" She took her hand and led her inside. "Hardy just called, he got held up. He'll be here in about an hour. Why don't you fix him a plate of his favorites and put it back. That'll give you a chance to talk to him. Come on, I'll help you." They ended up fixing three plates, one meats, one veggies, one desert. Hildy smiled. "The old saying about love and food must be true. Feed him this and he'll be so full he can't run, and so happy he won't fuss. Well, not much, I hope." Gwen did too. She loosened the belt around her shorts. They had elastic and she was stuffed, so she was sure they wouldn't slip. A decision she soon regretted. An hour passed and still no Hardy. He called Hildy, saying he didn't think he would get the cousin bailed out in time to come. Hildy insisted he stop by, if nothing else for the plates of food she had saved him. He promised, but said it would be at least two more hours. The older folks dozed, sated with food and family. The younger ones cleaned up a little before they too relaxed. The kids buzzed around, powered by the boundless energy of youth. Gwen and Hildy wandered round, talking to everyone. Gwen felt like she was running for office the way she was shaking hands and kissing babies, but she didn't mind. Somewhere she lost Hildy and ended up walking with one of the cousins close to her own age. There was a group their age clustered near the creek. They went over and she soon discovered the family drink, ginger fizz. One half family brewed corn liquor, one half a local brew of ginger ale known for it's bite. It was not for the faint of heart. Gwen tasted one and it felt like her mouth was on fire. She went pale, and then bright red. When she finally started gasping for air the group broke up laughing. "Don't worry, Aunt Gwen, it'll stop burning in a minute. Don't be mad at us, everyone new to the family gets ambushed like this. Here, this is what it's supposed to taste like." She eyed it warily. The same base, but with lemon, orange, and lime slices, plus a few cherries thrown in. She took a sip and actually enjoyed the taste. She ended up drinking three in an hour. What she didn't know was it still had just as much liquor in it, and she was getting really buzzed. She went to the bathroom, talked to Aunt Hildy, found out Hardy should be there any minute. She worked her way back to the group by the creek, stopping and being stopped along the way. All in all, she was very happy. Seeing Hardy would cap a wonderful day. The band was just starting to play, country and old rock. They weren't half bad. The sun was just beginning to decline, giving the day a golden, sepia glow. Then, it all went to pieces. Crystal Anne was at the table with her new friends, talking to some big guy with a cap on. She was rubbing his shoulder, laughing and shaking her hair. Damn her, she was the last person she wanted to see. Long red hair flowing, highlights glinting in the sun, white halter top and shorts so small they looked like panties. Every man there was drooling. At least she wasn't around Hardy. Then her world imploded. Crystal playfully knocked the cap off the guy, exposing shaggy, pale blond hair, which she ruffled affectionately. She reached the table and the man turned. She found herself staring directly into Hardys' eyes. His hair was longer, and he had a short beard, but the cool grey eyes bored holes in her soul. She snapped. All her planning, all her hopes, and he was with HER! Looking back, she didn't even remember starting it. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY HUSBAND, YOU MAN STEALING BITCH!" She grabbed a handful of hair and yanked backwards. Crystal Anne slammed into her, knocking them both off balance and sending them tumbling into the creek. Joshua had taken his backhoe and formed a small pool, intended for the smaller kids in the summertime. It was about waist deep at the deepest point. Gwen never let go of her hair as they hit the water. Even in early September, the water was COLD! Crystal was floundering, trying to stand upright. Gwen yanked her head under again, and as she was gasping for breath she ripped her halter off. By then a good crowd had gathered, and she thought she could get out while Crystal crouched in the water to conceal her chest. She started up the bank, twirling the top and laughing. Crystal surged out of the water, 'cussing a blue streak', according to what she heard later, and grabbed Gwen by the waistband of her shorts. The belt had been loosened and the shorts slid down her legs, exposing her ass in all its' glory, covered minimally by a lacy black thong. She had worn it in the hopes of flashing Hardy, it was always one of his favorites. She slid back into the water, shorts entangling her legs, and Crystal gave her a mighty slap. She responded by raking her nails across her neck, drawing blood. They were tumbling in the water, both by now half drowned. Somehow half of her tank top was gone, along with the bra beneath. She could hear the crowd yelling and clapping, but just didn't care. She was gonna kick this bitches' ass if it was the last thing she did. Suddenly a voice boomed out. "YOU GIRLS STOP THAT THIS INSTANT! SHAME ON BOTH OF YOU." To reinforce her words she grabbed a cooler and dumped it on them, cans and all. It shocked them into stillness. It was Hildy, and she had a full head of steam. She looked at two of the larger cousins. "Shirts off! Now!" They hastily tossed her their tee shirts. She threw them down to the girls. "Put these on and get your asses up to the house right this minute, else I'm gonna show everybody what a real ass whipping looks like! NOW!" They scrambled into the shirts and ran to the house, holding them down past their bottoms. Hildy wasn't far behind. Joshua was waiting for them and shooed them inside. Soon Hildy was pacing up and down before them. "I hope you're proud. It'll be a long time before the cousins forget this reunion. What a way for two supposed ladies to act!" It felt like they were ten years old. Crystal Anne said "She started it!" Gwen said "No, bitch, you started it by touching my husband. If I catch you around him again this won't even compare to what I do to you." "Fuck you, you gave him up when you couldn't keep your legs closed. I, at least, would be faithful to him." That stung Gwen more than she cared to acknowledge. "Fuck you too. Until the divorce is final, he's mine! And I intend to stop the divorce, we'll be together again, you'll see." Crystal sneered, "Yeah, I see that happenin' real soon. Just as soon as I get my snowball franchise in hell." "THAT'S ENOUGH!" "Crystal, go with Joshua. He'll show you my room. You should find clothes to wear home. They'll be a little loose but it'll have to do." After Crystal left the room, Hildy looked at her sadly. "Well, if you wanted to make an impression on him, it worked." Gwen teared up, again. "Is he still here? Think he'll listen to an apology?" "Sorry child, he's long gone. You girls managed to embarrass the crap out of him, and I didn't think that could be done." She let out a cry, "I've ruined everything. One chance and I blew it. I might as well give up." Hildy patted her head. "Don't be so hasty, child. You actually fought for him, he's redneck enough to appreciate that. This little incident may have actually done you some good." She hugged Hildy for awhile, then sat back. With a weak little smile she asked. "So, did I win?" Hildy grinned. "I'd call it a draw, but it was a dandy little scrap." Gwen actually giggled. "What would my father think if he saw his little princess now? Bet it would shock the hell out of him." Hildy looked uncomfortable. "Baby, you should know..." She trailed off and looked over Gwens' shoulder. "What is it, Aunt Hildy?" She heard the "Hmm, hmm" of someone clearing their throat and thought Joshua was back. She turned. "DADDY?!" Boston to Birmingham Ch. 03 "DADDY!?" Yes, there he stood, Greg Canaday, member of the Boston elite, bastion of conservatism, respected member of the bar. Staring at his, muddy, bedraggled daughter, clad only in an oversized tee shirt. "What are you doing here?" "I was invited. Someone named Hildy called, told me how well you were doing, how proud I should be of you, how much you missed me. So. I thought I would come down, visit, maybe get my fill of Southern cooking and hospitality." "Daddy, it's not what it looks like. I..." "How would you know what I think it looks like? It looks like my daughter attacked one of my employees. A true cat fight, over a man." "It really wasn't that bad. I just..." "Not that bad? You two were rolling around in the water and mud in front of at least a hundred people, without the benefit of many clothes. It looked like a Jerry Springer episode." "Daddy, I'm so sorry." "SORRY? Is that how..snort...a well brought up...snort...member of Boston society...snort...oh hell!" He burst out laughing, shaking his whole body in mirth, unable to contain it any longer. Hildy had reentered the room, smiling at first but soon laughing along with him. "Damn child, I send you down here and[another fit of laughing]you go native on me. Your grandmother would be proud." She was very, very confused. "What would my grandmother have to do with it?" "Your esteemed grandmother is from here, Jefferson County . You're one fourth Alabamian. Virginia Howe of the Birmingham Howes, to be exact. Your grandfather did his required work in our office here and fell head over heels in love with her. Her parents were not amused. 'A Yankee! How dare her!'" "But they loved each other until the day he died, twenty seven years later. And she was never the same after he passed." That's where your trust fund comes from, old steel money. She would have been proud of you today, no doubt." "Why would she be proud? I made a spectacle of myself, drove Hardy even farther away. I've made a bad situation worse." "Maybe not, girl" interjected Hildy. "Hardy just called to make sure you're all right. And to send word if any video shows up anywhere someone will pay, dearly. I would imagine there's a lot of cells being erased as we speak." Gwens' hand flew to her mouth. Her shining moment, immortalized forever. It just couldn't get anymore complicated. Wrong, wrong, wrong. ................................................. Her dad spent four days with her, watching her in court, taking her to lunch and dinner. He spent a few hours with his old friend Paul, talking about things neither would discuss with anyone else. Privately, he had to admit she had grown up some. It was very gratifying. The only sore spot between them was Hardy. He couldn't understand why she wanted him back, in his eyes she had betrayed him twice, regardless of the circumstances. "Look at it like this, baby. Have you ever heard the old African parable about the woman and the snake?" She shook her head no. "In the parable, the woman finds a snake fallen from a wall. It's cold, and the snake can't survive, so he begs the woman to take him in. He talks so eloquently, and is so beautiful she picks him up and takes him home. She puts him by the fire for warmth. She feeds him. She holds and pets him, telling him how beautiful he is." "Finally, summer comes. The sun is shining, it's warm, and the snake no longer needs her. One day as she holds him he bites her neck. As she lies on the ground dying she looks at the snake, and says 'Why? I saved you. I kept you alive. Why would you bite me?'" "The snake just looks at her before he slithers off." "Woman, you knew damn well I was a snake before you picked me up." He paused. "Do you understand? You knew Allan was a snake, but you still did coke with him in Paris. You still let him in your house, even as you tried to get Hardy back. What happened to you was wrong, but you knew how he was before you let him in. So please, bear a little responsibility." "And, that's exactly how Hardy views it. You let a snake in your home, knowing what he was." She sighed. "Am I going to get him back?" He hated to tell her, but she needed the truth. "I don't think so, baby. You hurt him in the worst way possible. True, you didn't know his background and how badly he would react, but you still cheated on him. And be honest, your treatment of him for the time before the 'incident' wasn't exactly that of a loving wife. Tell me, when did you stop respecting him?" "I never stopped respecting him!" she flared out, "but I did take him for granted. I guess I felt the love he had for me would see us through anything." "Including cheating on him?" "NO! You know I didn't mean for that to happen. You know that. And, I was never going to let him find out." "Regardless, it DID happen, and he did find out. Tell the truth, you had to think, somewhere in the back of your mind, that even if he found out you could convince him to forgive you." She couldn't look him in the eye. That told him all he needed to know. He sighed. "There's more news. Hardy has finally had enough of dragging the divorce out. He made it clear to his attorney if things didn't start happening, he was fired. Ivan is doing all he can, but he can't delay much longer." She felt like fainting. It was finally about to be over. She just hung her head and cried. Greg left the next day. He stopped by to see Hardy on the way out. "How are you?" Hardy more or less grunted. "As well as can be expected. Lots of cases to look over, lot of people needing help." "That's not what I meant and you know it. Are you still going to divorce her?" "You know I am." "Nothing anyone can do to change that? She's grown up a lot this last eight months. I really believe she loves you." "I still love her, maybe I always will. But you know as well as I love is not enough sometimes. I have to be able to trust her, and that'll never happen again. And I'm not talking about just the cheating. I really feel she was lying from the day we wed. She never wanted what I wanted, even after we discussed it at length and she agreed." "She never wanted to settle down, and I really feel now she never wanted children. No, the best thing I can do is move on. I still want a family, and time is wasting." "I understand. But tell me, son, was all you really wanted a brood sow? In my opinion, you both started the marriage based on lies and half truths. You should have told her about you, your upbringing and history. She should have told you how she felt about a family and her history of drug use and infidelity. She did wrong, really wrong, but you need to shoulder some of the responsibility. If you had both been honest you most likely would never have married, and wouldn't be where you are now." Hardy started to speak but he waved him off. "Stop. I shouldn't have said what I did, but you're both family to me. You're the son I never had, and I regret losing you. But enough about that, I should never had brought it up. What I really wanted to talk to you about was the new case Gwen is on." He described the Escobar case in detail, stressing the danger she may be in. "Paul promised me protection, but you know as well as I how stretched law enforcement is these days. As a personal favor to me, will you keep an eye on her? I know now you have resources they can never equal. Gwen told me about your little discussion with your cousin Roy." Hardy actually smiled, remembering. ................................................ He did call the following week, and little June nearly talked his ear off. Her mother promised him an unending string of pies in gratitude for making Roy see the importance of a happy home life. "I'm not an idiot, and I grew up on stories about you. All I have to say when he's getting a little neglectful is it's time to bake you a pie, and he perks right up. Thank you. Now, do you like peaches?" Cousin Ronnie was another matter. He had heard his brags, and caught him in one of those sawdust on the floor, no air conditioning, coolers run on ice instead of electricity type of juke joints you can still find scattered throughout the state. Ronnie saw him and made a huge mistake. He started bragging about how hard he was going to kick his ass. Hardy responded by slapping him, hard. Then he turned his back on him and went outside, calling out behind him. "Come on out you loudmouth cunt! I won't hit you, but I will slap you like the little bitch you are until you cry. I may just spank your ass like a young'un before I'm done. You might even piss your panties." Ronnie had just enough beer in him to cloud his judgement. He rushed Hardy screaming at the top of his lungs. "I'm gonna kill you, asshole!" Hardy actually looked bored as he stepped aside and slapped him on his way past, pushing him with his other hand. He went down face first in the gravel parking lot. He sprang up with a roar, angered beyond reason. Hardy didn't dodge, but stepped in and gave him a wicked 'Liverpool kiss', a head butt with all his momentum behind it. Ronnie's nose immediately flattened and blood flew. Stunned he stood with his arms hanging and Hardy took full advantage, raking slaps back and forth across his face. His body's natural reaction to the pain caused tears to fall. "Lord almighty" one onlooker yelled, "he is crying like a bitch." That only enraged Ronnie more. He was skilled, you didn't do what he did without them, but he just wasn't up to Hardys' level. He did manage to get a few good blows in. Hardy paid no more attention to them than he would a fly buzzing round him. Instead, he started raining blows just above the groin in front and the kidneys in back. No body could absorb that much pain, and his bladder released. He fell to the gravel, semiconscious. Hardy pulled him up by his collar, making it look effortless, and pushed him against a truck. "Well, you've cried and pissed yourself, do I have to spank you now, or do we have an understanding?" Ronnie shook his head yes in submission. "Seems we're about done here. Before I go, remember what I promised you if you touched my woman?" Ronnie's eyes flew open and he attempted to speak through bruised lips. Hardy cut him off. "Shut up, you little bitch. Time to pay the piper." His hand twitched and a three inch blade snicked open and locked into place. The tears were real now, not pain induced. Hardy held the blade to a little finger and smiled. Ronnie heard a snap followed by terrible pain, but when he looked down his finger was still there, just hanging at an odd angle. Hardy put the knife back in his pocket. "If I hear you're even in the same room with her again, I'll come back, and it'll be ever finger on both hands. Understand?" He nodded. Hardy looked over the crowd. "Anybody feel the need to say anything?" Suddenly people were finding interesting things to look at in any direction except where he was standing. "All right then. One of you could do me a kindness and take him to see Doc Thomas. He's used to this sort of thing and won't say a word. I'd appreciate it. Tell him to send me the bill. Ya'll have a good evenin'." He got into the big truck he had bought when he came back and slung gravel all over Ronnie as he pulled out. It destroyed Ronnie. No one feared him anymore, his effectiveness as an enforcer gone forever. Roy replaced him with one of the younger cousins, freshly back from Iraq. Ronnie became a runner, doing odd jobs for the group. He planned, he brooded, dedicating his life to looking for ways to hurt Hardy Wilkes. Doc Thomas turned out to be the grandfather of Karen Thomas, a.d.a. He told her in confidence that "Hardass Wilkes" was back and meaner than ever, which meant more business for him. She asked Gwen later if she had ever met Ronnie Wilkes. Gwen made a face. "Yes, he and another man named Roy came to visit me not long ago, wanting to make a family connection, I guess. Can't say I cared much for either of them. I don't think they'll visit again." Karen grinned. "You probably won't see Ronnie again, ever. Someone that resembles your husband stomped a mud hole in his ass the other day. He's bruised, contused, and has a broken finger. They said the guy that beat him just slapped him until he cried, and then gave him a few groin shots, making him piss himself." "Too bad he didn't kill him. That's a useless waste of humanity if there ever was one." Gwen smiled when she said it, and the look in her eyes made Karen nervous. ................................................. Hardy assured Greg he would watch over her. "I got a few cousins who are unemployed. They'll look after her." Greg offered to pay for the services of the cousins, but Hardy brushed it off. "You can't charge family for something you would do for them anyway. It's just not done, not in my family anyway." Greg countered. "Don't call it pay, say it's for expenses. I want their full attention on her, not wondering how their bills will get paid." Hardy reluctantly agreed, saying he would take care of it. Greg brought another subject up. "Since we're talking about money, I've got some papers for you to sign. The prenup you fought so hard against? It's in full force now, remember it's in effect even if you don't divorce. You have proof she cheated, she has admitted it. Thirty eight million, she was faithful for most of two years. Now before you start, it's legal, and the money is yours. If you don't want it give it away, you just can't give it back to Gwen." Hardy ranted, but Greg just smiled. "You don't have a choice. You're rich now, welcome to the club." They had a quiet dinner, each lost in their own thoughts, and Hardy drove him to the airport. .................................................. The first meeting with Raul Escobar and his team of lawyers went as well as could be expected. They claimed everything from entrapment to improper police procedure to police brutality, insisting that all charges be dropped and their client be released forthwith. Raul sat with a smug smile on his face. She just regarded them quietly while they laid out their demands, then actually laughed. "He got caught, driving while impaired. It's all on tape, including his rant and threats to the arresting officer. It's his first U.S. offense, but it's a class A felony. He's going away for at least five to seven years, if he takes a deal. Fight it in court and I'll go for the max, twenty five to life. His choice. Let me know your decision. Soon." She got up and left them with their mouths hanging open. 'Don' Vincente was furious when he heard. Who did this gringa bitch think she was? He'd destroy her. Calling up his private jet, he flew into Birmingham. He did nothing half way, doing research on anyone he considered an enemy or who could cost him time or money. Nothing he read pleased him. The puta was already rich, money wouldn't work as a persuasion. Neither would threats to her family. The mother was in France, married to a French judge, and the father was even richer than his daughter, well respected and even more well connected. The soon to be ex husband was a thug himself in earlier times, and was now a lawyer with dubious ties to his old crime partners, regarded by all as extremely dangerous in and out of court. He asked for and received a meeting with the woman and her boss. At first he tried to reason with her. "Please" he said, turning on his considerable charm, "he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn't even know the drugs were in the vehicle, which he borrowed from a friend. Release him into my custody and reduce the charges so he can get probation. I'll make sure he leads a life of righteousness and good works. I'll even send you monthly drug tests. You should be familiar with those." Gwen went bright red. How did he know about the drug tests? "First, he rented the car, he didn't borrow it. His name is on the rental agreement. His fingerprints are all over the bags, and his DNA, in the form of saliva, is even in one of them. He resisted arrest, then tried to bribe the arresting officers, then threatened them in your name." "Even if we were inclined to let it drop, the arresting deputy is cross trained and certified by Homeland Security as a local liaison, and he has federal powers. If we were to let it drop, the feds would snatch him up faster than lightning. Cut your losses, Mr. Escobar. All the lawyers in the universe can't help him. Let him plead out." Vincente Escobar was used to almost god like power. Everyone south of the border walked in fear of his wrath. Even the other cartels left him alone. And now this woman, barely more than a child, was telling him he was powerless to help his nephew, his blood. She needed an education, and he had just the teachers. .................................................. Paul was beside himself after the meeting. "That arrogant bastard. How dare he dictate to us, or make hints about consequences? He needs a reality check." Gwen was calm. "Relax, Paul. I've seen his type many times in contract negotiations. Totally convinced that whatever he wants is the best course for all concerned. He'll soon realize this won't be like below the border." "However, none of the people I went up against in contract law had a history of killing those who opposed them, so we all need to be careful." Things were quite somber around the office for a few days. Raul had appeared before a judge, been denied bail once again, and was bound over for trial in three months. ................................................. Gwen went back to her regular routine. Drug dealers, thieves, prostitutes, killers all needed her attention. She plead out where she could, set trial appearances where she couldn't. Paul had started letting her handle the simpler ones for the experience. She lost one early on because of a procedural error, and it embarrassed her so badly she became fanatical in research. If an arresting officer was the least bit sloppy she ate him up. Her reputation for being a frosty Yankee bitch grew exponentially, but no one argued about her results. One of her lighter moments came when she had to interview a pimp who had beat up one of his girls. Homer 'Big Daddy' Johnson was arrogant, fat, and dirty. Easily weighing four hundred pounds, his casual approach to personal hygiene was legendary. She almost gagged when she went into the interview room. He was too cheap to hire a lawyer, so the least junior public defender was assigned to him. She looked positively green when Gwen entered. He grinned at her, showing off his three gold teeth no doubt. Not wanting to stay in the room a second longer than necessary, she cut right to the chase. "We have three witnesses, all willing to testify. The woman involved has signed the complaint. You've got priors, Mr Johnson, all for assault on females. Take a deal, serve six months, and go back to your glamorous life. Give me the least amount of shit, and you're looking at eighteen months to three years. And I would hazard a guess, Mr. Johnson, that prison cuisine wouldn't meet your approval, much less the stringent sanitary practices they adhere too." The public defender actually laughed, pissing 'Big Daddy' off greatly. He glared at her. "Bitch, you supposed to be on my side. Get me out of this shit." The young woman recoiled violently. He turned to Gwen. "And you, I know who you are. Me and your old man bumped heads back in the day, he cost me a couple of good girls, real moneymakers. I always said I'd pay him back." He leered at her, his foul breath almost making her gag. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 03 "Maybe I'll turn you out. Good looking bitch like you would probably last three or four years before you got used up. I could make some real money before you were done. How would hubby like that?" He leaned back, quite pleased with himself. Gwen's sweet smile almost scared him. "If you bumped heads with my husband, he probably kicked your ass and made you like it. I'm betting you haven't seen him lately. He's a lot bigger than he was, according to people who knew him then, and it's not fat. And thanks to me, he's not as friendly as he used to be. Maybe I'll tell him what you said." "Or maybe, I'll just say fuck the deal, handle you myself, and put you away for a few years. You probably can't even find your fat ass with both hands, but they'll be guys there who'll be glad to find it for you. Who knows, when you get out you could maybe give your girls pointers on how to give a really good blow job or the proper way to take it up the ass. Good day, Mr. Johnson. Hope you learn to enjoy your new life." The public defender scurried after her. "He wants the deal, and said to tell you he was just kidding about all he said." "Tell him it's a year now, take it or leave it." She hadn't stopped walking. "He'll take it." She pulled Gwen into a hug, surprising her. "Thanks, Aunt Gwen. I learned a lot back there." Gwen was shocked. "You're name is Chapman, right?" "Yes Ma'am. Grandpa Hardy was my great aunts' brother. And my grandmother on my father's side is a Howe. You're related to most Chapmans, Grants, and Wilsons around here in one way or another. It's not all Wilkes, you know." "Shit" Gwen thought as she walked back to her office, "I'm probably related to everybody in the state, one way or another." Paul caught up with her as she walked. "Got a minute?" She grinned. "You're my boss, think I'm gonna tell you to fuck off?" He didn't know whether to laugh or not, but followed her into her office. "Gwen, we got another case we need you to handle while we wait for the Escobar trial. This one gets a little tricky. Karen and I both are on murder trials, so you get this one." "Come on, you're not telling me something. What's so special about this one?" She didn't like the way he was skirting the subject. "It involves the three strike law. And the accused is Sam Wilkes." "Surely you know I'll do my best even if I'm sure somehow he's related to my husband, right?" Paul hastened to assure her. "We know. The thing is, his defense attorney is going to push this as a referendum on the three strike law. He kinds of specializing in hopeless cases like this, often with surprising results." "I don't care, it'll make it more interesting. What's his name? Maybe I heard of him." "Oh, you have, child, you have. His name is Hardy Wilkes." The color drained from her face. Hardy. Her. Different sides in the same case. Could she handle her emotions? Could she sit at the table beside his for days without breaking down? Could she do her job effectively for the state? A calm settled over her. "Can you handle this? Sarah has five more weeks of maternity leave, and Jimmy is still in traction from the softball accident. I just don't have anyone else." "Don't worry Paul. I'm on it. One way or another, now he has to talk to me." He was relieved. "Good, here's the file. The kid doesn't deserve it, but the law is clear. Good luck." ................................................. The file read like a Greek tragedy. Sam Wilkes, twenty three years old. First felony at eighteen, caught joyriding with his cousins. He wasn't driving, he wasn't in the car when they took it, all the others agreed, but he was still in the car when they pulled them over. Class D felony, probation. Second felony at twenty, again because of his cousins. Caught in the middle of a bar fight. He hit a guy with a beer bottle, giving him a concussion and a fractured skull. Assault with a deadly weapon resulting in serious bodily injury. She read the transcripts. "I didn't know a beer bottle was that strong, I see guys get hit in the head all the time in the movies, it breaks and they don't even slow down. I was just trying to get him off my cousin, I didn't mean to hurt him, really. I'm truly sorry." The jury felt pity, but he still did six months. Class B felony. Two months ago he got popped for grand theft auto. He boosted a car from his employer, a vintage gull wing Mercedes. Got caught the next day, said he was bringing it back. The value on the car was over a hundred grand, Class A felony. Three strikes. Life in prison, no negotiation. The thought made her physically ill. But the law was the law, and she was sworn to uphold it. He was out on bond, since it was a nonviolent crime, bailed out by and currently living with Hardy. ................................................. Hardy sat in deep thought. He didn't see much of a way out for Sammy. The three strike law was the result of a backlash against a wave of lawlessness by a previous administration. Wildly popular for awhile, lately support had been eroding. The cost of decades of imprisonment, the spike of inmate on inmate violence, and examples of cases like Sammy's had left the legal system frustrated. There was talk of a partial repeal, exempting nonviolent offenders, but nothing had actually been done. A lot depended on jury selection. He knew if he could get enough working class people, people who distrusted the system, he may have a chance. There was an outside chance he could get him out from under life. He hoped the a.d.a., Jimmy Richards, would be cooperative. A long trial would benefit no one. That may or may not play into his favor. Monday morning was ugly. The weather was giving way to the cold, rainy days of winter in central Alabama. A perfect day to fight for a life, Hardy thought as he, Sammy, Crystal Anne, and an assistant hired specifically to do juror analysis entered the court house. Entering the courtroom, they proceeded to their table and set up their equipment. Oddly, the a.d.a. hadn't appeared yet. Generally the opposing attorneys chatted for a few moments before the judge entered, but today there would be no chance. Judge Harlin was a surprise. Seventy four, he had been retired for a few years, filling in once in a while for a day or so on minor trials for a sick or vacationing judge. He enjoyed it, said it kept him from getting senile while making him appreciate retirement. He had been pressed into service rather suddenly when the judge originally slated to hear the case got caught in chambers with a defendant, working out a plea deal that included oral sex. Unfortunately, he was performing it on a young man who wasn't happy. The judge was allowed to quietly retire, pleading guilty to coercion and crimes against nature. A plea bargain that kept him out of jail, but unfortunately not civil court. He would soon be divorced, broke, and shunned. He strode in quickly, catching everyone by surprise. The bailiff hastily called the court to session. "Don't bother rising, I'm a little early. Let's get down to business shall we? Please call the first case, bailiff." "In the matter of the state versus Samuel Jerome Wilkes, grand theft auto. Is the defendant and counsel present?" Hardy stood. "We are, Wilkes for the defense. Good morning, your Honor." There was a twinkle in the judges' eye. He and Hardy went back a long way. He was the judge that offered Hardy a chance to go into the military and avoid a criminal record all those years ago. "I'm fine. It's good to see you again, Mr. Wilkes. I'm glad to see you gainfully employed, even if it is as a defense lawyer." The judge was widely known for his intolerance of defense lawyer antics, and general low opinion of the profession. The judge frowned, noting the empty table normally used by the prosecution. "Is the prosecution present?" "No your honor." The bailiff looked over his paperwork. "It's supposed to be Jimmy Richards, but he recently was involved in an accident. Representing the state will be...." He paused, about to say the name, when a voice spoke up from the back of the courtroom. "Gwen Canaday for the state your honor. I apologize for being late, but in my defense you seemed to have started a little early." Time seemed to stand still for Hardy. There she stood, crisp, professional, and just as beautiful as he remembered. He had only seen her once after the picnic, from a distance. He was still surprised how much it hurt. He moved quickly. "In light of this substitution your honor, may I approach the bench?" The judge was a shrewd old man and had noticed Hardys' face when the prosecutor entered. He motioned them both to the bench. It almost took his breath away to stand so near her, the familiar smell of her perfume in his nostrils. He didn't know where to start. The judge grew impatient. "You asked for this boy, spit it out. What am I missing here?" "Judge, I would like to ask for another prosecutor assigned to this case. It may be a little awkward." "Why would it be awkward? Somebody better start makin' sense in a hurry." Gwen actually smirked. "What Mr. Wilkes isn't telling you, sir, is that we are man and wife. Estranged, but still legally married. Please tell Mr. Wilkes that I will do my best to be professional and adhere to the guidelines of these proceedings. If he's afraid of me, he is encouraged to withdraw so his client can be adequately served." The judge spoke. "Mr. Wilkes, the words out of your mouth next better be respectful and calm. You're swelled up like a bullfrog choking on a horsefly. I'm probably the only one here who remembers your inability to control your temper. This is my court, by God, and you two will behave or I'll throw you into the same cell. Do we understand each other? Mr Wilkes?" "Yes, sir." He managed to grate out. Ms 'Canaday' is it, do you understand?" She smiled sweetly. "Yes sir. And, you're wrong. I'm quite familiar with his temper, intimately, in fact." "Hot Damn!" the judge thought, "we haven't started yet and it's already getting hot. This might just be a lot of fun." Making a little note to himself to research the couple in front of him, he banged his gavel and jury selection began. ................................................ Gwen caught on pretty quick when it came to his juror selection. She fought, got a couple law and order types past him, and he ran a few unrepentant liberals in, but the bulk were just average folks, which may help Hardy. A hung jury can often be as good as an acquittal. The first day of the actual trial set the tone. There was a lot of attention being given by the media and legal watch groups on both sides of the spectrum. When word got out it was wife versus husband, it added another dimension. It started when the Plea was entered. "Not guilty" resonated through the room. No surprise there. It was a bit surprising when he pushed to have the charges dismissed, saying the defendant had permission to drive the vehicle, so it couldn't possibly be stolen. Sam won the hearts of the spectators, if not the jurors. Bumbling, shy, almost in tears a lot, he was a difficult witness for both sides. "Yes, ma'am" he answered when she asked if he took the car. "Did the owner of the car know you had it?" "No ma'am." "So if he didn't know you took it, it means you stole it, right?" Hardy was on his feet instantly. "Objection! Leading in the worst way, your honor." "Sustained. Careful Mrs. Wil... I mean Ms. Canaday." "Noted, your honor." She turned to the jurors. "He admitted he took the car. He admitted that the owner didn't know he had the car. Think about it." Turning to the judge, she said she had no more questions at the time. She looked over at Hardy. "You're witness hon...Mr. Wilkes." Glowing, Hardy rose. "Thank you MISS Canaday." He looked at Sammy. He hung his head in fear and shame. "Sammy, look at me son." He raised his head. "Sammy, did you take the car?" "Yes sir, I did." "Why?" "Because it was dirty! It was filthy. A beautiful car, a classic. It should have been pampered, stored carefully and cleaned with a loving touch." "What did you do when you took it besides spending most of the night cleaning it? Did you joyride, strip the gears, blow the engine? Where were you going when they caught you?" Jimmy looked horrified. "I never even hit the speed limit. They knew I had it. I called and told Will, the owners son, that I had detailed it and was bringing it back. He chewed me out, told me they didn't know who had it and his dad had called the cops. He promised he was going to call them back and tell them it wasn't stolen." He looked over at the judge. "I'd like to enter the following phone call as evidence." He looked at Gwen and she nodded, she had already heard it. "Hello, Jefferson County Sheriff Department." "Hey, this is Will Landis. My father reported his Mercedes stolen yesterday. I just found out it wasn't stolen, Jimmy, the guy who does odd jobs on our farm took it home and detailed it. He kept after me to let him clean it, and I joked and told him when he thought it was dirty enough he could do it. I didn't know he meant to take it away to do it. Anyway, he's on his way back to our house with it now." "Sir, are you withdrawing the stolen car complaint?" "Yeah, I guess I am. Sammy wouldn't steal a dime, he just ain't real smart sometimes." "all right sir, I'll withdraw the compliant. Have a nice day." "Thanks, bye." He let the silence hang for awhile before he turned back to Sammy. "Tell me, how did you get charged if they knew you were bringing it back?" "I got pulled over right after I talked to Will. Nobody knew it wasn't stole, and they locked me up. I tried again and again to explain but they wouldn't listen. Finally they told me to hush and call my lawyer. So as soon as I got to jail I called you." "Why did you call me?" He seemed surprised by the question. "Cause you're my cousin and I trust you. And, you're the only lawyer I know." This brought a few smiles and snickers from the crowd. "No more questions, your honor." The judge looked at his watch. "It's three thirty. Want to adjourn early and prepare closing arguments?" Gwen asked that she present closing arguments before they adjourn. "I promise it'll be short. We might even get in both sides before five. May I proceed?" The judge gave his assent. She rose and paced in front of the jurors. "Ladies and gentlemen, Sammy seems like a nice, gentle person. I'm sure he wouldn't harm a soul intentionally. No offense to the defendant, but he isn't the brightest individual. I'm sure he meant well. I'm sure he never meant to keep the car. If he had been a little smarter I'm sure he would have realized his friend Will was joking when he said he could clean the car when it got really dirty." She paused, the jurors could see the sadness in her face. "But the fact is he did take it. Will is only sixteen, he had no legal right to make decisions about the vehicle. It belonged to his father, an adult, and he insisted we prosecute. So we did." "Sammy has without a doubt lived a hard life. No guidance, bad personal decisions, bad company, and circumstances beyond his control in some cases has resulted in him being before us today." "All that being said, his mistakes, intentional or otherwise, brought him here. He does have felony convictions, this is his third if convicted, and the law says three strikes and you're out, or rather in this case in, for life." "The law was made before I came to live in this great state, but ladies and gentlemen, IT IS the law, and as an officer of the court I am honor bound to see it enforced." "If you can, be merciful. I have a lot of sympathy for him. You see, I myself have a life sentence hanging over me." She paused and the judge frowned. Both he and Hardy weren't following her line of thought. "Most of you know by now counsel for the defense is my husband. We're estranged, but still married. I committed a crime against him, a mortal one, one that has no forgiveness. I cheated on him, disrespecting everything he holds dear. It's been almost a year, and he refuses to speak to me. "I've tried every legal way I can to let me talk to him, beg him for another chance. I've almost given up hope. So by my own actions I've condemned myself to a life without hope or happiness. Though it's not the same, I have a lot of empathy for this young man." "I've done my job. I've presented the facts as they are. I've told the general outlines of the punishment, the judge will address the details in his instructions to you. All I can ask is you find some way to have a little mercy on a young man who doesn't deserve to die in prison." Thank you for your service, and may God be with you in your decisions." She looked at the judge as tears flowed down her cheeks. "Thank you, your honor. Prosecution rests." There was an uncomfortable silence before the judge crashed his gavel down. "Ms. Canaday, I don't know whether to praise you or censure you. Don't think I'm ignoring your cute little trick at the end. That was your one chance. Try something like that in front of me again and I'll fry your little Yankee butt, do you understand?" "Yes your honor, my apologies." "All right then." He looked at his watch. "Court is hereby adjourned until nine tomorrow morning." Gwen left, not daring to look at Hardy. If she had, she would have seen him sitting with his head in his hands, trying to hold back tears. ................................................ "Good morning, your honor, counselor, members of the jury." "Yesterday you heard my opposition wax elegantly in her closing argument, citing facts and pulling heart strings." "I agree with her on a lot of the key issues. The three strike law isn't justice, it fits the very description of cruel and unusual punishment. I can see it being applied to a small element of very dangerous offenders, but to send a twenty three year old away for life for cleaning a car is just wrong." "Look at him, ladies and gentlemen, he's scared to death. Twelve people he's never even seen before this began literally have the power of life or death over him." "If he goes to prison, he'll expect and pray for miracles the first two or three years. By the fifth year the light will start to go out of his eyes, and by the tenth he'll be a soulless lump that wouldn't even know how to survive in the real world. By then he would be thirty three, with at least forty more years to go." "Yes he took the car, but he thought he had permission. The teenage son was willing to testify he led him to believe that he could clean the car. He was almost back with it when he got pulled over. If the dad hadn't been so angry at someone driving his pride and joy, charges would have been dropped." He's a good kid, not emotionally ready to be a man. He took the car, he admitted it willingly, this is just a simple incident blown way out of hand. Find him guilty of something, but don't destroy a person who is innately good." "Think about in economic terms. It costs a nationwide average of $30,000 per year to house, feed, and provide health care to a prisoner. The health care costs go up as the prisoner gets older. Sammy will probably live at least fifty more years, it will cost this state between 1.2 to 1.6 million to punish him for cleaning a car without permission. Think of the good you could do with that money, the road improvements, the new schools, the rehab and prevention programs that could be funded. Does this law make sense to you now?" Boston to Birmingham Ch. 03 He started back to his table, when he turned and addressed the judge and jury one more time. "With your indulgence, your honor, My learned opponent made some valid points. She may feel she's serving a life sentence, but she's a young vibrant woman, beautiful, rich beyond the wildest dreams of most of us in this room. She could fly in her fathers' jet to Paris for lunch, and be home in time for dinner. The cost would be about the same to her as it would be for one of us to walk down to The Hash House for their daily specials." "Sammy won't have that luxury, when those bars slam shut he's done forever. While she worries about which designer should make a new creation for her, he'll be worrying about getting gang raped in the shower. Quite a difference, wouldn't you say?" "And if by chance Sammy doesn't go to prison for life, he'll be a lot like me. He and I are serving life sentences of our own. In his case it was a car, in mine a woman. We knew they were far above anything we could hope to possess, but we had to keep them for a little while, even if they destroyed us." "That's our life sentence, remembering for a brief, fleeting second how good it felt to touch them, knowing in your heart they would never be yours. " "Thank you, jury, for your time and service. I don't envy you your task." "Defense rests, your honor." "Damn you, Hardy Wilkes," she thought, "if I had a dollar for every tear I shed for you I'd have another fortune to my name." No one mentioned her tears as the jury listened to their instructions and filed out. Five hours later the verdict was in. Sammy was convicted of unlawful use of a vehicle, a misdemeanor. He was sentenced to six months in a minimum security prison, one that maintained and cleaned state vehicles. The judge thought it fitting. Hardy had Sammy shake everyone's hand and thank them. The jurors, the judge, even Gwen, who surprised everyone by hugging him. The whole courtroom watched silently as she approached Hardy with her hand out. He took it without hesitation. "Good job, counselor, justice was served here today. And just so you know, I've decided to stop fighting the divorce. Take your freedom, I won't hold you back. Just know, if I could see any hope of us being together again, I'd beg you on my knees on the courthouse steps to just talk to me. Goodbye, Hardy. I love you." The judge watched and listened. This was just wrong. Everybody but the stubborn jerk Hardy could see it. He had a little research to do on these two, didn't need to put it off any longer. ............................................... Greg wondered what the judge from Alabama wanted. He had left a message that a return phone call was urgently needed. He knew it was about Hardy or Gwen. He wasn't worried much about Hardy, but had real concerns about Gwen. She had called him, told him to tell Ivan to just let it go, it was finally over. He could hear the despair in her voice, and the resignation. "Are you sure, honey? I know he still loves you, but he won't admit to it." "It doesn't matter if he loves me anymore, daddy. He'll never forgive me, every time he looks at me I know he sees Allan and I together. He can't forgive me, and I can't live a half life anymore." He felt a profound sadness for Hardy, Gwen, even for himself. He had really hoped they would get back together. He dialed the number, and the voice of an old man answered. "Good evening, this is Greg Canaday, returning a phone ca......" "Damn boy, I was about to give up on you." The judge sounded impatient. "You don't know me, but I know your daughter, and I know your soon to be ex son quite well. I presided over her last case, I was glad to see she was actually happy she lost. Did you follow it?" Greg had, there were already articles calling for the modification of the three strike law appearing in newspapers throughout Alabama. Even the most conservative ones were grudgingly admitting modification had some merit. There were several photos of Hardy and Gwen in the hometown papers. "Yes I did. I was proud of them both." "Good. Listen son, I'm seventy four, I ain't gonna walk this earth much longer. Before I go I want one last chance to do something good. Those kids need to stay together, I don't give a damn how much they fight it. I got an idea. You willing to help me?" Greg considered the idea. Did they really need to stay together? Did he really have any right to meddle anymore than he already had in their lives? Yes. And no. But it wasn't going to stop him. "I'm in, judge. What do you have in mind?" He listened and his smile grew wider. He couldn't wait to meet the judge in person. his plan may not work, but it would sure be fun to watch. He flew down Friday, and spent the weekend with the judge. After discussion, Hildy and Joshua were brought in. Scenarios were proposed, discussed, abandoned, or modified until the finally had a plan they could live with. Hildy summed it up best. "Well, I expect things will be apoppin' come next week." Greg stopped by to see Gwen, surprising her by taking her to the best restaurant in Birmingham. "Honey, I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of you. I had serious doubts when I sent you down here, but you have proven me wrong on many different levels. You're not a spoiled little rich girl anymore, you're a mature woman and an excellent attorney." He had no idea what his praise meant to her. It was a validation of her efforts, her determination to be a better person. "Thank you, daddy. It means the world to me to hear you say that." He looked uncomfortable, surprised his approval meant that much to her. "That being said, Gwen, I'm releasing you from your promise. Come back to Boston any time you're ready, the partners and I agree you'll be even more of an asset than you were before you left. And I've freed up your trust fund, you can draw on it whenever you like." She sat there, tears flowing and conflicting emotions raging across her face. With determination, she gave him a reply that swelled his heart with pride. "Thanks, dad, but I owe Paul another ten weeks, and truth be told I kind of like it here. Release the trust fund when I get back, I don't need the money right now. Can I give you a decision after the Escobar trial?" "Gwen, you're an adult now, do what you want. If you decide to stay here for the rest of your life, I would be sad but support you. I love you, baby." She started sniffling again. "Damn it! I've cried so much the last year everyone down here thinks I'm related to Tammy Faye Baker." He gave her time to recover. "Gwen, you don't know how many times I've regretted meddling in your marriage, but I've got something to present to you. It will be entirely up to you to proceed or not. You don't realize how many friends you have down here. I've been called Uncle Greg by so many people I can't keep up with them. Nice to have a big family, huh?" She nodded, two people had already come up to her in the restaurant, greeting her as Aunt Gwen. She had long ago stopped trying to remember them all. "Spill, daddy, what nefarious plan have you hatched to complicate your poor daughters life even farther?" He told her. She was shocked at first, but then her lawyer side took over and she recognized the merits of the plan. Monday she set the plans in motion. By Friday it was a done deal. .............................................. "Hellsfire and damnation!" Hardy burst out. He had been served on the courthouse steps. For divorce. Seems Gwen had gotten a local judge to change the venue from Boston to Birmingham, as they were both legal residents of the state. There was even a court date, and grounds were listed as adultery. He called his lawyer in Boston, ranting. "I thought this was a done deal! The final decree was due in two weeks. What happened?" "You got me. All I can tell you is I was served with a petition to change venue, and the judge signed off on it. Truthfully, he seemed to be relieved to be rid of the whole mess. I heard of a divorce in Florida that took over a year, two lawyers in that one also, but this one will set a new record. Then, after all that, they remarried. I wish you luck, Hardy. You'll get my bill in the mail." They were back to square one. He had no choice. Retaining a new lawyer, he started the whole process all over. The first court date approached, and his lawyer insisted he be there. In fact, the judge wanted them both to be present. He fought the idea but lost. "I don't know what to tell you, he's pretty insistent about it. He's not the usual judge in these matters, she's on a medical leave of absence. Hear he's a crusty old coot. Best not to piss him off." That should have tipped him off, but he had too much going on to pay close attention. ................................................. He was on the court steps with his lawyer, waiting to enter. Gwen and her lawyer arrived, and they stood on the steps, together but apart. She nodded but made no effort to speak. Hardy was completely taken aback when the judge entered the courtroom, then he got a sinking feeling in his stomach. Judge J.T. Harlin, in the flesh. Preliminaries out of the way, he had the first case called. "Wilkes v Wilkes, your honor." "All right kids, who wants to go first?" Gwen and her lawyer were a little faster in responding. "We will your honor." "In lieu of opening comments, I'd like you to allow Mrs. Wilkes to make a statement." Judge Harlin looked over his reading glasses, staring at Gwen. "Proceed." "Your honor, I wish to withdraw my petition." His lawyer had to practically wrestle him back into his seat. Judge Harlin stared him down. "Boy, if you cause the least little disturbance, I'll postpone these proceedings for six months. You hear me?" Hardy nodded. "I'm sorry, I expect a verbal response." It was almost a growl. "Yes, your honor, I hear you." "Good. Now Mrs. Wilkes, you were saying?" "I wish to withdraw my petition, your honor." "Why?" "Because I still wish to be married to Mr. Wilkes." "You're going to have to do a little better than that. It's my understanding you're separated due to infidelity on your part. Why try to hang on to him?" "I can't stop loving him, your honor. I tried, really really tried. I even agreed to the divorce, felt like I owed it to him. But the separation and other factors have forced me to grow up and see the world as it really exists. The more I learn the more determined I am to try to hold onto my marriage." "Except for my career, I've pretty much failed at everything. I wasn't a good daughter, and even worse wife. I lied about my expectations of the marriage to get him, then tried to manipulate him to keep him." "I had no idea the type of man he was. In that sense, he was as guilty as I at lying and manipulation. Had I known his history, I may not have even pursued him. I thought he was a mild mannered softy, even a bit of a wimp. So I started disrespecting him, in many ways. The cheating was the final insult." "Only under great stress did I learn his true nature. Even then, when he had every opportunity to kill me, he seemed genuinely sorry for the one blow he gave me." Judge Harlin, watching her closely, believed her. "Tell me, Mrs. Wilkes, do you think he's capable of returning your love? You hurt him pretty bad. And I've heard through sources that need not be mentioned he did a little more than slap you when he found out. Can you live with a man capable of doing something like that?" She had no hesitation. "Yes, your honor. For one thing, I think he's ashamed of what he did, and for another I'll never give him cause like that again." "Thank you, Mrs. Wilkes." He turned to Hardy. "Would you like to make a statement, Mr. Wilkes." His lawyer stood. "Your honor, my client does not want to make a statement. He desires the divorce to go forward, but be altered from grounds of adultery to irreconcilable differences." The judge raised an eyebrow. "That so?" "Yes, your honor." "Mr. Wilkes, please stand." What now? he thought as he stood. "Mr Wilkes, did you love your wife before this 'incident'?" "Very much, your honor. But that doesn't mean I..." "Don't add nothin' boy. Yes or no will do." "Do you hate her now?" "No, your honor, but..." "Son, you are trying my patience. Yes or no, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" "Yes, your honor." "Good, now is your life better without her? Remember, yes or no." "No." "Do you miss her and what you had?" "Yes." "Now, this one will be real simple, and you can actually talk. Walk up to her, go on. Miss Gwen, meet him halfway. Stand in front of me." They met before the bench. "Now Hardy, all you have to do to get your divorce is look her in the eye and tell her you don't love her anymore. Go on now, it ought to be easy if it's over between you. You can speak now." Thirty seconds went by, a minute. The judge got impatient. Hardy finally spoke. "What's love got to do with it? I had a dog when I was a kid, a pit bull, one of the blue ones, the Warlock line. It was the most beautiful dog I had ever seen. I raised it from a pup, spent every second I could spare with it. One day, out of the blue, it bit me, hard enough to need stitches. I still have the scars. It went right back to the way it was before, never offered to bite me the rest of its' life. I still loved it, but I never trusted it again, never let my guard down around it. I still want the divorce, love is irrelevant. Trust is the thing. I'm afraid she'll bite me again." The judge tried his best to stare him down. "This ain't the time for you to channel Tina Turner or the Dog Whisperer. Tell her you don't love her and it'll all be over" Hardy stood, silently. The judge grew impatient. "Go on, boy, do it. We got other people waiting to ruin their lives. Make it simple. TELL HER!" Hardy started to speak, drew a breath, couldn't get a word out. For the first time Gwen saw tears from him. It was the sweetest, most terrible thing she ever saw. The judge grunted. "Thought so. In my legal opinion, this marriage is savable. That being settled, it is my order you should seek a marriage counselor for a minimum of five visits, result to be reviewed by me. If after that..." Hardy finally found his voice. "Now just a damn minute, J.T., I won't..." "That'll be a five hundred dollar fine for interrupting me and swearing in my court. We got kids present, doggone it! Now, as I was saying, a minimum of ten sessions to be..." Hardy was practically jumping up and down. "If you think for one minute I'm going through with this mickey mouse..." The judge actually broke his gavel. "Last warning. Shut up or get locked up. Your fine just went up to a grand. Where was I, oh, yeah, a minimum of twenty sessions with a counselor of your choice." Hardy turned on his heel and started out of the courtroom. "MR. WILKES! GET YOUR BUTT BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!" He didn't slow down until he reached the door, only to find it blocked by two bailiffs and a deputy sheriff. The old bailiff tried to reason with him. "Back off, Hardy. You could probably whip us, we're old and out of shape. That's why we got court duty. But we got these handy dandy taser thingys, and I don't think you can whip all three of them. Now go on back before J.T. has a conniption fit. He already looks like he's mad enough to bite the head off a snake, and aggravation ain't good for his blood pressure. We're asking nice, boy, go on back." Hardy looked at them and felt his anger evaporate. He turned and approached the bench. J.T. waved his broken gavel at him. "One more word, one more anything and you're in jail, contempt of court. Do you understand? Good. Now, get a counselor, set up appointments, and Hardy, so help me, blow one off and you'll be in jail before the night's out. You got it?" Hardy nodded, went back to the table, and whispered to his lawyer. The man shook his head no violently, but after a few seconds hung his head. "Uh, judge, Mr. Wilkes wishes me to repeat what he just told me, verbatim. Remember sir, his words, not mine. May I proceed?" J.T. nodded, what could he be up to now?" "Sir, he wishes you to know he has lost all respect for you as a jurist. This engineered, distorted misuse of the legal system makes him ashamed to be a lawyer. Kangaroos would cringe at the goings on today. He is adamant in his refusal to attend such an exorbitant amount of counseling sessions, preferring to surrender himself to the jail at your convenience to begin his incarceration for contempt." The lawyer seemed to cringe, waiting for the explosion. For a minute, Gwen really thought the judge was going to have a heart attack. He went, pale, red, then purple. He couldn't form words for a few seconds. He was practically screaming when he finally did speak. "Sir! Your client is an idiot. By God, right now is convenient. Bailiff! Escort Mr. Wilkes to the county jail, immediately." "Mr. Wilkes, without doubt you are the stubbornest individual I've ever met. Stew for awhile, I'll be down to see you in a couple of days, see if your attitude has changed. If not, you will remain a guest of the county. Want to apologize now?" Hardy grinned. "I apologize J.T., for nearly giving you a heart attack. You really need to take it easy. You might die before you come to see me. Then where would I be?" The judge was so mad he was beating on his desk with his shoe. "Get him outta here! And get me another gavel! Court is recess for twenty minutes. Miz Wilkes, could I have a moment of your time in chambers? You won't need your lawyer." Gwen helped him into his chambers. He was still fuming. "Try to help a fellow out and this is what you get. Stubborn, arrogant,...." The judge rambled on for a few minutes. He looked up. "Sorry, darlin'. I didn't think he would get this mad." "Well, judge, you did kind of push him, and he has a reputation of not liking to be pushed. Are you really gonna leave him in jail?" "Nah. I'll let him stew for a few hours, then go talk to him. Maybe we'll both be calm enough to reach an understanding. Still wanna go through with it?" "Yes sir. Offer him ten sessions to start, but make sure he knows there may be more. Tell him he can pick the counselor, that might help." She turned to go. Looking back over her shoulder she gave a parting comment. "I don't know what's in this for you, sir, but thank you. And judge, tell him I still love him, no matter how angry he gets." ................................................. Will Rob Williams, the high sheriff of Jefferson County, was about to go to lunch. A county sheriff in most Southern states is practically the right hand of God, with an amazing amount of discretionary power. They know the good guys, the bad guys, and the idiots. They know who can be dangerous, who the really serious players are, who the rank amateurs are. Pretty much nothing moves in their jurisdiction that they're not aware of, sooner or later. As he was leaving his office he saw a prisoner being escorted to the cells. He noted the man wasn't restrained, a violation of procedure. He strode over to find out who was escorting him, and make a note to chew his ass when the time was right. Something about the man seemed familiar. "Well, Lord almighty, if it isn't the notorious outlaw Hardass Wilkes! I heard you were back, kept meaning to look you up, but you know how it is. Protecting and serving and everything to go with it. Somebody finally get the goods on you?" His grin was a mile wide as he reached out to shake his hand. "Good to see you Will Rob, How's Myrtle, still too good for you?" Boston to Birmingham Ch. 03 "Yeah, but after thirty years, marrying down don't seem to bother her as much as it used to. I'll tell her you asked about her, it'll tickle her no end. Here to see a prisoner?" Hardy's grin got even wider. "Not exactly. I am the prisoner. Shouldn't have smarted off at your daddy, I reckon." "You pissed J.T. off bad enough to land you in jail? This I got to hear. Deputy, I'm relieving you of your prisoner. I'll handle it from here. Come on, let's go eat while you tell me what you're up to. Don't worry about J.T., he'll be tied up the rest of the day in court. I'll have you back in time for him to come by and gloat." They spent an hour and a half at lunch, catching up. The first hour was light, full of remembrances of times gone by and people who had passed. The last half hour had a decidedly darker tone. They talked briefly about his marriage. "Damn shame there. I know her through work of course. Great lawyer, she has the best win percentage in the office. "Bout everybody knows you're her husband, they call her 'Mrs. Hardass' behind her back, because she's so tough. Most would rather plead out than take a chance in court with her. Plus, she's one fine looking woman. You know she took the Escobar case, right? We'll watch over her when the trial starts next month, but you know how it is." "Don't worry, Will Rob. I got it handled." The sheriff frowned. "Far be it from me to tell a man not to look out for his wife. I ain't asking, so don't tell me anything, okay? Just be careful. You carryin'?" "Not yet, I got my carry conceal permit a month ago. By next week I'll have my Smith .40 on me." What Will Rob told him next was totally unexpected. "You know she carries? A .380, in her purse. She's a damn good shot too, I've seen her at the range." Gwen? Guns? He had never heard her express an opinion one way or another but always assumed she was against them. Another thing he never knew about his wife. They reluctantly went back to the jail. Hardy seemed stoic as the doors clanged shut. He was in a common holding cell with six other inmates. J.T. came by around six, fully prepared to accept an apology and take him out to dinner. What he found was Hardy sitting on one side of the cell, four inmates sitting on the other side, and one lying on the floor, out cold. "What the hell happened here?" Hardy tried to grin though the swollen, split lip. His left eye was rapidly swelling closed, and a definite lump on his jaw. "You know how it is, J.T. We had a difference of opinion over football. They were Auburn fans, and I yelled out 'Roll Tide!'. But in the end, I had to admit they had a hell of a season. To top it off, did you know the jailer went to Ole Miss? He called us all a bunch of assholes and made us talk politics. After he sprayed a whole bottle of pepper spray on us." The judge shook his head. "Hardy, that mouth is gonna get you killed one of these days. You calmed down yet? Willing to listen to reason, maybe do a little trading?" His eyes instantly became hooded, his guard rising, before he managed to grunt in the affirmative. "J.T., as much as I enjoy the company here, and I have to say the macaroni and cheese was really spectacular tonight, I'd like to sleep in my bed. That being said, you spout off to me again about twenty sessions and I'll ask what's on the dessert menu." "Don't piss me off again, boy. That little speech this morning really got my goat. I don't remember you being all concerned about misusing the system when I pulled in favors to keep you out of jail when you were younger. If the recruiter hadn't been the son of one of my fishing buddies, you'd have done three to five in Huntsville instead of four for Uncle Sam." Hardy was big enough to admit he was wrong. "Sorry, J.T., I know how much I owe you and Will Rob. But, it still pisses me off to have her rammed down my throat. I just want it to be over." "I promise you'll get it, one way or another. But you need to talk to her, get 'closure' as the shrinks say. Here's the deal. Ten sessions, you pick the counselor. After that, I'll go by their recommendation. If they say it's over, it's over. If they say you need to keep going, we'll talk it out before I make a decision. Best you're gonna get, take it or enjoy your breakfast tomorrow. I hear powdered eggs ain't that bad." Hardy took the deal. J.T. drove him back to his truck, telling him not to dick around, have the name of the counselor on his desk by next Friday. .................................................. Gwen was walking on air! Hardy agreed to ten sessions. He had a counselor in mind, if he could get him. Someone from his past. That was good, he would be more comfortable, more open, she hoped. He promised in an email to let her know the time of the first appointment. Seems he still didn't want to talk face to face. She could live with that, for now. She noticed the car when she pulled into her apartment complex lot. Vintage Cadillac convertible, maybe early seventies, completely restored. It was almost blinding it was so shiny. More interesting though, were the occupants. A black man in his early twenties, dressed impeccably in a suit, behind the wheel. A diminutive white woman, obviously of advanced age, was in the passenger seat, equally well dressed. When Gwen got out of her car the man was standing beside her. She couldn't help but admire his grace and good looks. "Excuse me for the intrusion, ma'am. Would you be Mrs. Wilkes?" Immediately on her guard, she nodded. "Please, would you mind speaking to the lady in the car? She has mobility problems and is a little vain about it. We won't take much of your time, I assure you. She's been beside herself with anticipation when she found out who you were. Just for a second, please?" The man seemed so earnest and straight forward she agreed. The woman peered anxiously at her as she approached, finally pulling a thick pair of glasses on. She broke out into a huge smile. "It's her, Marcus! I declare, if you had auburn hair you would be her made over. Don't you think so?" "I agree. The resemblance is uncanny." Gwen was lost. "With all due respect ma'am, what are you talking about?" She gave her a look that reminded her of displeased grade school teachers. "You, of course! Anyone ever tell you that you look just like your grandmother?" "You knew my grandmother? Virginia Howe?" "Child, I'm her baby sister. Your great aunt. Aren't you going to be polite and invite us in? I know you were raised by Yankees, but my goodness! Leaving an old lady out in the sun? Marcus, help me." He looked at her with love. "Yes'm, Miss Daisy. I be fetching your cane now." "Marcus! Behave! That stopped being funny years ago." He was immediately contrite. "Sorry, Aunt Daisy. Sometimes I can't help myself. It sure is fun doing it to strangers. You should see the face you're making, Aunt Gwen." She was slowly making her way, leaning on his arm and the cane. After they were seated and tea was poured[fully sweetened, she was getting used to it], she couldn't contain her interest. "My great aunt! Please forgive me, but I didn't know you existed or I would have looked you up." Daisy waved her hand dismissively. "Not to worry, child, I'm here now. I blame your mother, she wouldn't let your father have a thing to do with us. Here, look at this." She handed her an old photo, the date on the back said nineteen sixty seven. It was a young girl, maybe still in her teens. Big smile, poofy hairdo, nice dress. Gwen held it up to a mirror, she was right, the resemblance was remarkable. "I wish I could have known her." Daisy handed her another photo, showing a mature woman in her late forties to early fifties, holding a child of four or five. "That's you, with her, when she came down for a family reunion. You were a handful, but you weren't mean. You followed her like a puppy, getting nervous if you couldn't see you 'gamgam', that was as close to saying grandma as you could get. She loved you with all her heart and soul." She sighed. "I wish I could remember her." "You can, child, in your heart. She was very worried about how you would turn out, your mama and her never got along well. She never trusted her." Reflecting on how her mother turned out to be, she thought her grandmother was right. "Marcus, will you please get the books?" He rose and went to the car, returning later with three large volumes and a Bible. "What are those?" Daisy beamed. This is the end results of fifty years of research. It's your family history. You can't keep them, but Marcus has them on computer, when you access it it will tell you more than you ever wanted to know about your ancestors. Here, let me show you this." It was a family portrait. Mother, father, son, two daughters. "That's your great grandmother and father, with your grandma, me, and Wilkes, our brother." "I have a great uncle?" "Sadly child, he died young. A nasty place called Korea. He never married. You are the only grandchild in the family left." "What about your family?" She could see the large diamond and band on her finger." The old face showed infinite sadness. "Sadly, we never had children. They didn't have the sophisticated tests back then they have now, so we never learned why. We adopted a boy, a child of a distant cousin. Here, this is a picture of him and his family." A young couple with an infant, faces shining with love and hopes for the future. "He was our life, our light. I do believe my husband loved him more than I did. He and his family were killed on an interstate highway, a twenty three car pileup in a dense fog. My husband never got over it." The old lady wiped her eyes, the memory painful still. "So you see, child, you're the last of the Howes. It's sad, to see a line end, especially one as illustrious as ours." Gwen felt an infinite sadness for this old lady. She knelt in front of her chair and hugged her, gently. The thin shoulders shook for a bit. Daisy pushed her back gently. "Look at me! I must look like a senile, sentimental old fool. But I'm so glad to meet you." They spent three hours, talking. Daisy delighted in showing her the heritage she was the result of. She showed her a picture of a young man In a Confederate uniform. "This is your four times great grandfather, Alexander Howe. He was a major, and survived the siege of Vicksburg. I have his journal, it was an awful time. There are tear stains on the page where he described having to kill his horse for food. People starved. He was commended for bravery twice before the surrender." She held up another picture, of a Union soldier. "This is the man who took his surrender. His name is Gregory Stowe Canaday. And yes, you're related. He's your four time great grandfather also, your daddy is his namesake. Even though he was from Boston, He was assigned to the Army of the West because they needed engineers. They struck up a friendship after the war, that's what led to your family opening a law office down here. He was sick of using his skills to destroy men, and turned to law." Gwen felt her head reeling. "Wow! I went from being an only child to being related to everyone I've ever heard of. It's a wonder I'm not related to my husband." Miss Daisy smiled. "Well, actually, Alexanders' sister married Francis Wesley Wilkes, your husbands' four time great grandfather. I'll have to add it up, but that makes you something like a fourteenth cousin, once removed." Gwen sat with her mouth hanging open, then she burst out laughing. When she recovered, she apologized. "Sorry, Aunt Daisy, but I just realized I'm a true stereotype of the South, I married my cousin!" That set Marcus and Daisy off, and Gwen joined them in another round of laughter. When she recovered she asked how they had amassed so much information. "I was a history major at 'Bama, taught high school history for forty years. Most of the older stuff I got from visits, court house records, family Bibles, and local folk lore. When Marcus came along he used his computer skills, that helped tremendously. Here, let me show you this." It was an old family Bible. "See the pages in the back filled with writing? Old time Bibles were sold with empty pages so births, deaths, and major events could be recorded. They're still valid legally as proof of birth and age. Look here." She had turned to the last page. It recorded the birth of her grandmother, her father, and her. It was the last entry in the book. "This is the family Bible, from my father. When I pass it becomes yours. There are a few pages empty, I hope you fill them with the names of the next generation." Gwen started crying. With a little prompting, she told them her sad story, and how she was afraid there may never be another entry. Daisy surprised her. "Snap out of it, girl! Not judging, but you've made some horrible mistakes. Fix it if you can, if not move on. If you want your man back, go after him with everything you have at your disposal, you need help, ask for it. Look how much family you have to call on." She was pointing at the books. Gwen smiled. "Thanks, I may hold you to that. Am I related to everybody in Birmingham?" "Child, you could shut your eyes and fling a rock, and hit someone your related to." She grinned that wicked grin only old people could get away with. "And I'm not talking about white people either. Your cousin Marcus here could be right handy." She looked back and forth between them. "All right, I need to know. How did this happen?" "It seems Alexander had a relationship with the woman who turned out to be his great great grandmother. And by relationship, I mean in the way one owns the other, and saying 'no' just isn't viable." Gwen covered her mouth in horror. "It wasn't that bad. Apparently he was fond enough of her when his wife died to never remarry, preferring her company. She stayed with him after the war voluntarily. She gave birth to three of his children, one died in childbirth, another of cholera. But one, his great grandfather, survived and raised seven children. This all came to light after Marcus came to me, doing research on his own family." "I had the journals of both Alexander and Beth. We found an entry where she seemed to condone the relationship saying she was grateful for 'the Nigra Jess, for relieving her of her need to perform her wifely duties, which her delicate constitution couldn't handle'. We had DNA done, and it proves we're related." She looked with pride at Marcus. "He's half way through achieving his masters in History. I've made him my heir, for following in my footsteps, for forgiving our ancestors, and generally being a loving person to an old, lonely lady. He deserves it, and after years of fighting me, he finally gave up." Gwen was greatly moved, reflecting how you can find love in the oddest places. They left, after extracting a promise from her to visit regularly. She helped Daisy to the car, listening to her grumble as she went. "I think I made a mistake when I gave Marcus this car. It was the first new car my husband ever bought. I hated it then. It hadn't run in twenty years, I didn't think he could do anything with it. It took him six years, but it looks like brand new. I'd much rather ride in my Mercedes, but if he's driving this is all he'll take." Gwen snuggled into bed that night, thinking what a good thing family was. She wasn't thinking about all the people she had managed to put in jail over the last ten months, Vincente Escobar, Ronnie Wilkes, or Allan Hovis, the snake. But they all were thinking of her. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 04 All right, you caught me. This story was my tribute to DQS, for all his great work. I did a story called 'The Cost', influenced by Ohio, and its' had over sixty thousand views, my best effort so far. I figured if it worked once, maybe it would again. As for DQS and HDK praising my writing, it's like Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan saying the boy can carry a tune. Many thanks. Oh, HDK, you're next. Enjoy. ................................................. Hardy found himself in the office of an old friend, waiting anxiously for his appointment. Rabbi William Goldberg had retired, gotten bored, and opened a counseling practice, specializing in marriage and relationship problems. His work with veterans had been gratifying, but the stress and the daily reminders of the horrors of war wore on his soul. Between active duty when he was younger and twenty five years the reserves, he was able to retire with honor and full benefits. He truly felt God moved him in this direction, and didn't want to be a disappointment. A New Yorker by birth, he had spent a lot of time in the South, and when he retired he surprised his friends and family by moving to Montgomery, Alabama. He loved the area, close to the coast but far enough inland to take the edge off the occasional hurricane, plus the mild winters were a balm to his arthritis. He was moderately surprised at the size of the Jewish population there, but a friend told him they had been there since the late eighteen hundreds. It still took awhile before the phrase "Shalom, ya'll" to lose its' novelty. He remembered Hardy Wilkes well, one of his most interesting patients. Always smiling and friendly, he seemed opposite of his dossier description. Peeling away layers of defensive protection, he found an incomplete man, results of having an unstable, stressful childhood and poor role models. His moral compass was almost nonexistent during his formative years, and despite his best attempts to become a better person, he would sometimes revert to his childhood beliefs, especially under great duress or emotional upheavals. "Rabbi Bill" as Hardy addressed him, spent the better part of a year with him between physical therapy for his wounds and broken bones and analysis sessions with Major Stein. He taught him to play the organ, to help focus his mind and relieve stress, amazed at how quickly he learned, and the intensely emotional way he played. It was like he poured his whole being into the music. It became standard to spend a few minutes playing before they talked. Bill was surprised with his profession and marital status. Years ago, he would never have envisioned Hardy as a lawyer, dressed in expensive suits, or actually being married, to a beautiful woman, an heiress and daughter of the principal owner of his firm. The term 'married well' definitely applied. But he wasn't surprised to see him, trouble in paradise was his stock in trade. He would have bet his bottom dollar this was going to be very interesting. They shook, then hugged. Bill looked him over, noticing the shaggy hair and short beard, giving him a totally different look than he remembered, the smooth face and military brush cut gone. It wasn't that he looked unkempt, more like unruly. All in all, it gave the impression of being slightly out of control. "So, rabbi, the sunny South, huh?" "Yeah Hardy, what can I say, I'm hooked on grits. Try getting that in a New York kosher deli. Believe it or not, there's a very good bagel shop just around the corner. This must be a lot like heaven." They talked about mutual friends and colleagues for a bit, then Bill leaned back in his recliner, he found a desk setting too impersonal, and besides, it was comfortable. He added or deleted furniture, depending on the outcome he was trying to achieve. "So, this isn't a social call. How did you find me?" "Major Stein told me. Up front, you should know I see him twice a month for a three hour session, and yes, it's related to this." He filed away a mental note to call him. He knew Stein was still active military, there was something he wasn't seeing. "Hardy, I'll be glad to provide counseling, but why me. It takes almost two hours to get here, I'm sure there are qualified professionals in Birmingham." "Two reasons. I know you, and the drive will probably piss my wife off." "Hardy, I have to tell you up front, if these sessions are going to be just a way to irritate your wife, don't drag me into it. I don't need the business that bad. Why don't you tell me what you want up front, and what caused you to seek counseling." So for two hours he told him as much as he knew. About Paris, about what happened at home, including his reaction. Bill kept as good a poker face as he could, but he was shocked. He told him how he resisted her advances at first, their courtship, the arguments towards the end, the disrespect he felt she had for him. "Even without the cheating, we were heading down the wrong road. She made promises to me I began to understand she was never gonna keep. The cheating tore it, I'll never trust her again, and damned if I'm going to look over her shoulder and worry when she was gonna cheat again. Better a clean break." "Tell me Hardy, do you still love her?" "You know, I'm sick of everybody asking me that question. Yes, I can't seem to stop. But I'm hoping with enough practice I can." "So you don't see a reconciliation? Then why the sessions?" "Court ordered, can't get out of them. I'm hoping you'll see how hopeless it is and pull the plug early." Bill leaned back, turning on the back massage control to high. Damn, he loved this chair! "Based on what you told me, I have no interest in seeing you. I can tell it will get ugly, and I just don't need the aggravation. But in the interest of fairness, give me your wifes' number. I'll set up an individual session with her, two hours minimum. After that we'll see. And before you ask, this session and hers won't count towards your mandated visits. Take it or leave it Hardy. Remember, you came to me." Hardy argued, but accepted the terms in the end. .............................................. Gwen cursed and fumed at the rush hour traffic on I-65. Seventy mph speed limit and she was crawling along at twenty five. She had to smile, Hardy had gotten her good on the counselor. J.T. was a little pissed also, but as he pointed out, they did agree he could choose, and nothing was said about location. Bill hung the phone up smiling. Mrs. Wilkes had called three times, a good sign. Looked like one of the spouses was committed to the counseling. She was still twenty minutes late, apologizing as she came through the door. The short bearded man with the skull cap didn't fit her mental picture of a counselor. "Sorry, sorry, damn traffic. I'll know better next time, adjust for travel." "Relax Mrs. Wilkes, you're too stressed to make sense right now. Let's do some breathing exercises, get you centered. Close your eyes." For the next five minute she listened to his calm voice, breathing in and out as directed. When they finished, she was breathing normally and was much more relaxed. "Thanks doc... wait, what should I call you, doctor? rabbi? counselor?" "I find Bill works best, and I'm not a doctor, just a licensed therapist. Do you prefer Mrs. Wilkes, or Gwen?" "Oh, it's been so long since anyone called me Mrs. Wilkes that I enjoy hearing it. But Gwen would probably relax me more." "All right then. Gwen, what do you want from me?" The question surprised her. "I want you to help me get my husband back." "Why?" "Why, what?" "Why do you want him back?" "Why? Because I love him. I miss him. I need him." "Excuse me for being direct, but according to your husband you cheated on him, treated him disrespectfully, went back on your agreement of your family goals. If that's the case it sounds like you don't need him at all. It sounds more like he was just comfortable, a fall back." "That's not true at all! I did neglect him, I was wrapped up in a big project, and it became my focus temporarily." "So you're saying that as soon as your project was over you were going back to being an attentive, faithful wife? What would happen if a newer, bigger project came up? Would you have put him on the back burner again until you were done? Did you ever intend to start the family you promised your husband?" "You're making me sound like the bad guy here! I was supposed to go into a new department in the firm, court litigation. I would have been home, we could have worked on our marriage." "But didn't the fact that your boss, your father, kind of force you into that, precipitating Hardys' departure temporarily? He told me you lashed out, saying he and your father conspired to change your responsibilities, to force you to spend time at home. Then when he returned, he finds you in bed with another." "I've already explained that! I was more or less raped!" "I find your terminology interesting. Were you more raped of less raped?" "I was drugged. He took advantage of me. Truthfully, I now realize I put myself in the position for it to happen, but it was at the least nonconsentual. Even in my drugged state I tried to make him stop." "Why didn't you press charges?" "You forget I'm a lawyer. It would never had stuck, I had prior sex with him in almost the same set of circumstances, willingly taking the drugs. I doubt I would have won, and I didn't feel like putting my family through the pain. The admission of drug use alone would have killed my career, embarrassed my family. It would have just publicized what kind of person I was." "Ah, tell me Gwen, what kind of person are you? What were you like before this came about, and are you different now?" She sat silent for a few minutes, collecting her thoughts. "Before, I wasn't an adult. I was just a spoiled little rich girl pretending. My mother was a compulsive cheater, my father finally got tired of it and divorced her. I spent nearly a year in her custody before going back to my father, and she wasn't really much of a role model. My dad was so glad to have me back he catered to my whims. I just got used to saying 'I want' and seeing it happen I didn't understand how the real world works. Hardy tried his best to get me to understand, and my dad did too. In fact, he begged me not to marry him, not because he didn't approve of him, but because secretly he didn't approve of me." "Were you happy with Hardy? Truth now." She frowned, wrinkling her forehead in concentration. "Yes, overall. I was very happy. There were things I wished I could change, of course, what spouse doesn't? But when he looked at me with those warm grey eyes and that goofy smile of his, professing his love for me in that soft, almost musical drawl of his, I would melt. He loved me, heart and soul, I knew it without a doubt." "When did you start withdrawing from him?" "Who said I withdrew from him?" "He did. Said he wondered why you didn't think you were good enough for her anymore, why you seemed embarrassed by him sometimes. Any truth to that?" She hung her head. "Looking back, I have to admit there were times when I wished he was a little more urbane, a little less 'countryfied'. He didn't really care for the most of the people I socialized with, thinking them pretentious, and boring. Sadly, I now feel he was right. I didn't like his friends that much either, cops, black ghetto kids, people at his gym. And I hated his paralegal, that bitch is still trying to get him to fall in love with her. They were scary, but at least they were real, and real scared me." "I realized later that his Southern charms, while real, were often exaggerated to achieve a certain result. He would amp them up or down, depending on the results he wanted to achieve. It's one of the reasons he was so successful in Boston. Opponents would listen to him, watch him. They assumed because he talked slow, moved slow, he was slow. The next thing they knew they were lying on the ground watching the taillights of the truck that just ran over them recede, with a rebel flag for a tag and the words 'Honk If You Love Dixie' emblazoned across it." "So, you're proud of him then?" "Yes, very. He takes difficult cases that no one else would, for free, thanks to my dad. He would use every resource to get justice for that individual. He chose carefully, never representing anyone unless he was sure they were innocent. He would occasionally take one where guilt was established but he felt the punishment was excessive to. His success rate is exceptional." "Have you told him you were proud of him?" "Not often. His cases were depressing, and I was too shallow to hear about them." Bill looked at the clock. "Mrs. Wilkes, we've got about forty minute left, but I'm willing to stay a little longer if you are. Let's make a pot of coffee, relax for a few minutes." They stood up, to get the circulation going and to make the coffee. Bill had been to the bagel shop, and had half a dozen assorted, with toppings. Gwen hadn't eaten since lunch, and had been too nervous to eat much then, worrying about the session. The bagel was very satisfying. They joked since they were in the South, he should have had a platter of buttermilk biscuits. Sitting back down, Bill asked if could review what was said so far, just to make sure he didn't miss anything. She nodded. "All right, so far we've established that you were a shallow, spoiled immature child who had no idea how the real world worked, used to get anything you wanted with no effort, or bearing responsibility for your actions. Now, that being said, who are you now? Have you changed, and why?" Gwen drew a deep breath. "For good or bad, I'm definitely not the same person I was before. I'm not a girl anymore, I'm a woman now." "I hated my dad for sending me down here, for cutting off my money. I hated it here for the first couple of months, actually cried myself to sleep a number of times. Spent myself broke for awhile, almost didn't leave enough to eat or for gas." "But then I started learning. I planned a budget and stuck to it. Ive always been driven to succeed, a legacy from my dad, I guess, so I threw myself into my job." "It was a far cry from dealing with people in five thousand dollars suits over a bottle of expensive wine in a five star restaurant to dealing with the lowest levels of society in a small dirty, airless room. I learned to tell the difference between liars and kids who were so scared they almost wet their pants. I put away drug dealers, thieves, pimps, violent criminals, looking them in the face, knowing that they would hate me for what I did to them. I did it anyway, society was better off with them off the streets. I became very good at what I did, gaining a reputation for being tough but fair." "The single biggest motivation for change was meeting my family. I was an only child of an only child, remember, and there was no family ties to anyone but my father. My mother had a sister, but I haven't seen her since I was eight." "At first, it was my husbands' relatives, his grandfather, Joshua Hardy, and enough Wilkes to start a new nation. I would eat Sunday dinner with them about every other week, and they accepted me. Some may have resented what I did to my husband, but were mostly too gracious to express them." "It was one of the greatest pleasures I have ever know. These people weren't social climbers, didn't have an agenda to speak of, they just accepted me as one of their own and treated me accordingly. Suddenly I was 'Aunt Gwen', bombarded with attention from the younger generation, tolerance and even in some cases love by the older." "Then I met my great aunt, did I tell you my grandmother was from Birmingham? Anyway, that brought a whole new set of cousins to the fold. I'm officially related to most everyone in a four county area, including the black population. That's a story for another time, but the point is I came here a Yankee and stayed as a relative. I didn't tell my dad, but regardless of whether Hardy and I work things out, I'm never going back to Boston. I'm home now." She sat for awhile, sniffling with emotion. Bill could empathize. As long as he had been here, he got asked almost weekly if he was related to this person or that. At first he was resentful, thinking they assumed all Jews were related. After a few weeks he realized that no matter what your color or religious affiliations were, establishing family ties were as natural as commenting on the weather. "The point I'm trying to make is that I've grown up. I'm willing to bear responsibility for my actions. And the actions of a foolish girl are not those of a saddened, mature woman. I know I may never get him back, Bill, but I need to show him if he does, he's not coming back to the child he knew, but the newer, better woman I've become. One that is nowhere near as foolish and shallow as the old one. I want to make sure he knows I don't want the old marriage back, but a better, stronger one instead. Please try to get him to understand that. And no matter which way it goes, I'll always love him." Bill was impressed enough to accept them as clients. He wanted one more individual session with each before he met with them together. His parting comment was "Tell Hardy not to miss any, and yes I'll make sure the individual sessions are counted in the agreement." ................................................ Rabbi Bill called up Major Stein, and had a lengthy discussion about a Mr. Hardy Wilkes. The agreement was that he was a work in progress, and should be watched carefully. Major Stein sat, thinking. Reaching a decision, he picked up the phone. Hardy had cancelled his upcoming session, saying he would be out of the country and couldn't make it. Maybe now it was time to talk to someone else. He had discussed talking to the wife, Hardy was reluctant but agreed that if it was necessary he could do so. "Mrs. Wilkes? Good morning. You don't know me, my name is Ben Stein, actually Major Stein. I don't know if you know it but I'm doing some sessions with Hardy, strictly followup from his military past, through the local VA. I want, and let me assure you that Hardy agrees, to meet with you. He can't make his appointment this week and I was wondering if you could take it instead. You will? Thanks, let me give you the address, you can google it. It's Friday afternoon, if that's all right. Thank you." ................................................. Gwen took the day off, her workload was light due to the Escobar trial, and she actually had a few vacation days coming. She just told Paul she had to go out of town unexpectedly and he let her off without argument. "Maybe she"ll go some where and blow off steam" he thought, "It'll probably do her some good." She mentally thanked her dad for putting ten thousand in her checking account. She had updated him on the scheduled counseling and her visit to Major Stein. When he found out she was going to drive the seven hours it would take to get to Ft. Stewart, he insisted she fly, not wanting her to go that distance alone. "Daddy, I can't afford the plane ticket, the rental car, or a hotel stay." "You can now, I'll put the money in your account. Take it as a gift from a nervous dad. If you had let me release the trust fund we wouldn't be having this discussion." "I gave you my reasons. It's important to me to make this year, it's only less than two months. I'll take the money, as a loan. I'll pay you back. That's the only was I'm going to take it." He agreed, heart swelling with pride. The flight to Savannah was uneventful. It was the first time she had been in a plane in over a year, and the small commuter jet made her nervous. The Lexus she had reserved didn't feel right either, it seemed gawky after a year in her Focus. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 04 It was even more uncomfortable on base. She had never seen so many uniforms in one place. Even though the dress she wore was conservative, just below the knees with a high neckline, her beauty was obvious, and there was an ocean of admirers around. She was very glad the building was easy to find. Major Stein met her in the lobby and escorted her into his office. "Don't worry, we won't be disturbed. Can I offer you something to drink?" "No, thank you. I don't think a lot of liquids would help me with my nervousness." He rushed to reassure her. "Please, this is just an informal talk between two people concerned with the welfare of your husband. How is he? Do you speak often?" "She laughed. "No, in fact, I had to drag him into court to get him to speak to me at all. We are starting marriage counseling, I had to get a friendly judge to facilitate that, so I'm hoping for the best. Perhaps you could tell me, how is he mentally? That is what you do, right, deal with veterans with mental issues?" Instead of answering directly, he surprised he by asking, "Tell me Mrs. Wilkes, has your husband been into any altercations lately? Physically, I mean." He fought with a cousin a while back, beat him pretty badly from what I hear. It was a family issue." "Did it have anything to do with you?" "Yes, his cousin and another man threatened me. The one he beat was physical with me, not sexually, just grabbed me." "Anything else?" "Not that I know of." Luckily for Hardy, J.T. never told her about the fight in the cell. "Mrs. Wilkes, please understand that what you tell me is covered under patient client confidentiality. Would you describe the events leading to your separation? Please don't leave anything out, it might be important." Gwen shamefully told her story yet again. "Tell me, before the incident,was he abusive to you in any way, physically speaking?" "No! In fact, I once almost stepped into the path of a car, and Hardy pulled me back so hard I had bruises on my arm. He apologized for three weeks. Until that morning, almost three years together including the courtship, he hardly even raised his voice to me. Of course, any couple has arguments, but he was always so calm, so reasonable. It was like he was a totally different person that morning." "How much do you know about his military experience?" "He told me he did two tours in Iraq, including the invasion. I know he was wounded, I've seen the scars, but he doesn't talk about it." "Mrs. Wilkes, much of what he did is classified, so I can't go into details. Your husband has a very specialized skill set, and he was very good at what he did. He could have been an officer, his rapid assessment of troops, terrain, and objectives was amazingly perceptive. His flaw was he didn't work well with others. Many were actually afraid of him or afraid he would get them killed. Once he focuses on an objective the only way to stop him was to kill him." "We did many, many tests on your husband, physically and mentally. We exposed him to different stress levels and measured his responses. Your husband is a very unique individual." "Are you familiar with the term 'flight or fight' Mrs. Wilkes? Good. In a flight or fight situation the individual person feels threatened, and adrenalin is released into the blood stream, speeding up the decision to fight or run, and giving the body a boost of energy." "Your husband Mrs. Wilkes, has adrenal glands that are capable of releasing six to ten times the normal amount of adrenalin into the body. It's very, very rare, research has found it to be most evident among Scandinavians and people of the Southern U.S. No one is exactly sure why. It may be why you hear stories about Viking berserkers of legend and rowdy rednecks. The closest analogy I can give you is it's like people who overdose on crystal meth. I've seen cases where the individuals struggle so hard after being strapped down to a bed they break their bones, and don't even realize it, not feeling the pain." "It's has a nickname among the medical community, Hulk syndrome, for the comic book character who changes from an ordinary man to a raging beast because of anger. That pretty much describes your husband. He was fine, in control, for years. Your infidelity triggered the resurgence. Do you know I have him on medication to curb the release of adrenalin? He hates it, but takes it anyway." He paused, letting her digest the information. She took the opportunity to ask a question. "Sir, why is the military involved? Charges were never pressed, the whole thing was kept out of the public eye." He tried to sound reassuring. "We're the military, Mrs. Wilkes, we have our ways. Our concern is making sure your husband is all right, not a danger to himself or others." "You consider him a danger to society?" "Not really, if he keeps taking the medication and stays out of stressful situations." "You think he can do that? Life by its' very definition is stressful." "I think if he continues to see me for awhile, and you work out your marital issues, he'll be all right. Bill Goldberg is a fine man and a skilled therapist. More important, he's worked with Hardy before and he trusts his opinions. I wish you the best. He really loves you, you know that, don't you? If anyone in this universe could keep him centered, it would be you. All you have to do is get him to trust you again." "By the way, do you know why your husband is in Mexico?" "I didn't know he was out of the country, we don't exactly share details of our lives right now." They talked for another hour, him asking questions, her countering with questions of her own. He told her about his rescue of the troops pinned down in that small valley, leaving nothing out. To her shame, she had no idea he had three purple hearts, several letters of commendation, and a silver star with oak leaf clusters. Another important part of her husbands life she was excluded from. ................................................ Mentally exhausted, she returned to her hotel and took a nap. Rising, she dressed, wondering how to spend her night. She took a walk by the ocean, something else she hadn't been near in a year. The waves were calming. Paula Deens' restaurant, Lady and Sons, was nice, the food good, but she found herself comparing it to what she had at the Sunday dinners at home, and decided homemade was definitely better. Food prepared by strangers, no matter how tasty or well presented, couldn't compare something made with love, to be eaten by relatives, people you'll see everyday. It tended to make one try harder. Back at the hotel, she decided to have one drink at the bar. She hadn't touched alcohol except for an occasional beer she drank with Joshua, the episode with the ginger fizz still fresh in her mind. They had a band, they were just starting. She sat and listened to a couple of songs, tapping a foot absently. The place was packed. Hunter Air field was just outside of town, and Ft. Stewart was just over an hour away, and apparently Savannah was the largest city around. Gwen had them around her three deep, asking her to dance and buy her drinks. She shook her head no until her neck was sore, trying to leave. The boys parted like the sea for Moses when a short woman with red hair moved to the bar beside her. She nodded to Gwen while she waited for her drink. "It's mean of you, you know." She said out of the blue. "What?" "Coming in here, looking like that, and shooting the boys down. A lot of them are far from home, lonely, and let's face it, they're all young guys, hornier than hell. You're fresh meat, and shooting them down is like waving a steak in front of a starving dog a foot past the end of their chain." Gwen was uncomfortable. "I just wanted a drink, then back to my room for bed." "Got a man up there waiting for you?" "No, I'm in town on business. I'll be gone tomorrow." "Then why not stay awhile, dance a time or two, give the boys something new to fantasize about? It'll be fun." "That's what I'm afraid of. I've found I make poor decisions while trying to have fun. I'm fighting to keep my husband now because of that. We're finally close to talking again, I'm not about to screw that up." "Do people here know your husband?" "Some do. Like I said, my days of screwing up my life are over. I have too much to lose." The woman held out her hand. "I'm Anne." She shook the hand offered. "Gwen." "Well Gwen, nice to meet you. Sure you can't stay a bit? I could use a wingman." The band was about to start another set, and a tall young man, obviously military, came up to Anne, asking for a dance. "Sorry, soldier, not this one. But my friend Gwen might. Forewarned, she's married and intends to stay that way, so anything funny and she's gone. Understand me?" The last phrase was said with such authority that the man almost stood at attention by reflex. "Understood, Ma'am." "Good." She turned to Gwen. "I'll get us a table and watch your purse. Go. Dance. He'll behave, I guarantee you." So she danced, and enjoyed it. By the time she got to the table Anne had found they were crowded around. She handed Gwen her purse. "My turn." Gwen watched her dance, amazed at how graceful she was. Drinks were bought, but after they saw she wasn't drinking they stopped wasting their money. When she came back, she took their purses and had the bartender put them behind the bar. Gwen looked at her funny. "Thieves cluster round military towns like vultures over a carcass. Now, we can both dance without worry." So they did. Gwen only danced two slow dances, one with a boy who didn't look out of his teens, because she thought he would be safe. It felt like she was dancing with an octopus, his hands were everywhere. She finally broke his grasp and went back to her table. He never asked her to dance again. The other dance was with a man easily in his fifties, another traveler no doubt, and he was almost formal in the way he held her, and was a very good dancer. He had on a band, and she had never removed her rings, vowing not to until the divorce was final, so she felt safe. She kissed his cheek and thanked him, he flushed but smiled and squeezed her hand. She ended up dancing the night away. The sheer physical release was welcome. Before she knew it, the night was over. The band had stopped, and everyone was enjoying the last drink of the evening. Anne was watching her closely, it was like she had a personal mission to assure her safety. Gwen had finally given in and had a few more drinks. They boys hadn't stopped buying, hoping to loosen her up, but they mostly sat on the table untouched. Now that the night was over and she was going straight up to her room, she downed a few more, becoming more than a littler buzzed. When she stood and wobbled, Anne quickly stabilized her. "Come on sweetheart, let's get you to your room." It seemed like a good idea, so she left her arm around her waist and fished the room card out of her purse. Anne pulled her along to the elevators. The ride was silent, and Anne noticed tears welling up. "What's wrong, Gwen?" "I miss my husband, damn it! He should be helping me, not you. We used to go out like this, I always ended up horny as hell, and he would take care of me, real good care. Now I'm horny, alone, and frustrated. I need to tell you, I don't think I'll ever get him back." She was sobbing, hugging Anne like a drowning person holds onto a life preserver. She patted her back, rubbed her shoulders. It was all the comfort she could give her. Anne had more than a few herself, so they staggered down the hall using each other for support. She dropped the key card twice, and they, practically fell through the door when it opened. giggling like little girls. Gwen looked ay the minibar. "Want a night cap?" Anne grinned, "one more couldn't hurt, could it?" One more didn't hurt, but six did. By then Anne knew she was in no shape to drive, and Gwen was practically passed out. Anne helped her to the bathroom, undressed her, and put her to bed. She stood back, admiring her beauty. Bisexual for fifteen years, she preferred men, but occasionally, under the right circumstances, a womans' touch appealed to her. Slowly, she undressed. Planning to use the other bed, she changed her mind. She wasn't going to try anything while she was passed out, but if they woke up in bed together, who knows? She did say it had been awhile. And a warm attractive body to sleep next to was far more appealing than sleeping alone. She pulled the covers back and Gwens' purse fell to the floor, spilling. She picked it up, gathering the spilled items. Her wallet had flopped open, and when she picked it up she got one of the biggest shocks of her life. A picture of Gwen and a man, obviously her husband. Something looked familiar about the man, so she held the picture up to a lamp. Mentally lengthening his hair and giving him a beard, she knew exactly who he was. Hardy Wilkes! This must be the infamous wife sleeping in the bed. Anne was glad to her soul she hadn't tried anything, it could have gotten very messy. Still, she was lonely, Gwen was available, and it would be good to at least sleep together. She gently eased into the bed, and Gwen immediately spooned up to her. Anne went to sleep with her arms around her. She awoke sometime in the night to found they had turned over, and now she was spooned to Gwen, who had her hands wrapped around her breasts. She reveled in the feeling, fighting temptation before falling asleep again. ................................................. The scream woke Anne. She found Gwen sitting up, clutching the covers to her chest. "WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?!" Anne was about to tell her, but thought she would have a little fun first. "You don't remember? God, you were amazing! The best I've ever had. Baby, your tongue should be gilded. sonnets published about it, songs written. And you just went on and on and on, where did you get the energy? I know we just met, but is it too soon to talk about love?" Gwen screamed again and ran to the bathroom. Anne gave her a minute and went in, she was sitting on the toilet crying. "Gwen, Gwen, nothing happened. I was just having a little fun. You were drunk, I was drunk, and I didn't want to sleep alone. You hear me? Nothing happened." "But, but, but, when I woke up you were spooned against me, rubbing my nipples." "We were in bed together, honey. People tend to spoon. As far as rubbing you, you know by now I was asleep. It didn't mean anything." She stuck her tongue out at her. "That is, unless you want it to. I'm bi, and I've got a pretty good tongue myself. You'd have fun, I promise." Gwen tried to shove her out of the bathroom but Anne wouldn't let her. "Gwen, stop! I'm just teasing you. Gee, being hungover is affecting your sense of humor. Nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen. Calm down." "Now, do you want to shower first, or shall we do it together?" Gwen slammed the door to Anne laughing. Showered and dressed, she felt a bit better. Anne showered, and they talked afterward. Sober, she found Anne to be witty, intelligent, and grounded. "Are you really bi?" She couldn't help but ask. "Yes, does that bother you?" "Not really. I'm probably never going to see you again, so would you satisfy my curiousity? What's it like, with another woman?" "I can't describe it, honey. It would be like explaining what an orange tastes like to a person that's only eaten apples. I can tell you it tends to be gentler and more emotional, at least in my case." She had an evil glint in her eye. "I could just show you, you know." Her answer astounded her. "I've often thought about it. I had a friend in college who chased me relentlessly. I almost gave in a couple of times. If I was single I believe I would take you up on your offer, but I still want my husband back. Tell you what though, if it doesn't happen with my husband, give me your card, maybe I'll call you." She quickly gave her a card. Gwen glanced at it. Captain Anne Burnside, U.S. Army. "You're a soldier?" "Yep, career, been in twelve years." "What do you do?" "Intelligence, and that's all I can tell you." It was too late for breakfast, but Anne knew a small place that served brunch. Things were going fine until Anne ordered a mimosa. She saw her face. "What?" "Nothing, I just have bad memories associated with that drink. Please, though, enjoy." Anne insisted on seeing her off. At the airport she held out her hand. "Thanks, Gwen, It's been an adventure. Hope your life works out." Gwen astounded everyone in the waiting area by gathering the smaller woman into her arms and giving her a smouldering kiss. She let her go and stepped back. "There, that should fuel a few fantasies. I'll never forget you. I hope when you settle down, whoever he or she is, that they appreciate you. And who knows? If I don't get my husband back, I've got your number. Bye." She walked off laughing. "Damn" Anne thought, "If anybody could handle Hardy, it's her." ................................................. The Escobar case was getting close, and Don Vincente was starting to get worried. His indirect attempts at pressuring the D. A. and the police were getting him nowhere. The same with bribery. It was time to up the ante. His first thought was the arresting officer, but the guy was a veteran, had no close family, and was a hard nosed son of a bitch. Every time he made contact the cop reported it to the D.E.A. who wanted to take over jurisdiction. His next step was the D.A. and his employees. Direct pressure wasn't working, it was time to get devious. His first attempt failed miserably and landed two of his people in jail. He knew of Gwen's past experience with cocaine, and was going to exploit it. He intended to plant felony amounts in her car, and leave an anonymous tip. That would get her removed from the case at the very least, buying time. His people monitored her movements. She was fairly predictable, boring really. The only time she was away from home was the weekends she spent with her husbands' grandfather, and that was only over night. Her complex had security cameras, but he had the technology available to overcome it. To lessen risk, it was decided to plant it in her car. They chose a night that was overcast and stormy, keeping people indoors. They easily opened her trunk and put a baggy with twelve ounces of cocaine underneath the spare tire. The baggie had her fingerprints on it, stolen from her trash. What he didn't know was his people weren't the only ones watching Gwen. Hardy had recruited eight men, six of them cousins, to keep an eye on her. The leader and all but two of the others were ex military from a variety of fields. Four had their own vehicles, and he bought six more and titled them to the crew, theirs to keep as a bonus. The only thing they had in common were powerful engines. Two people, in separate cars, watched over her twenty four hours a day. They were pretty good at their jobs, and no one noticed them. They on the other hand, noticed everyone, even filming persons they deemed interesting. Thus they were there the night the two men rummaged through her garbage, taking the baggie with her fingerprints, and there the night when they planted the cocaine. One was local, the other Hispanic. Waiting until they left, they carefully opened the trunk and retrieved the baggie. They then divided the contents into two separate baggies, put one in the car of the local, the other in the car of the visitor. Don Vincente wanted a lot of publicity, so he tipped off the local TV stations that a prominent public official was about to be arrested. Deciding to treat himself, he was watching from a limo the next morning when Gwen arrived at work. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 04 Police immediately swarmed around the car while crews filmed the action. Gwen, of course, had no idea what was going on and was suitably pissed. In deference to her standing, they didn't handcuff her, but had her wait in the backseat of a car. No drugs were found. When he finally understood there were no drugs in the car, an angry Don Vincente ordered his driver to leave, but before he could move, an old truck pulled in front and backed up to his bumper, and a large SUV pulled behind him. He had a moment of panic, this is one of the ways he eliminated enemies at home. A young man dressed in a suit, carrying a manila envelope, walked up, shoved it under the wiper, waved and walked away. The truck and SUV sped away. The driver sat for a second, frozen. "Don't just sit there, get me the envelope!" Don Vincente snarled. He had one of his bodyguards open it. A little firework known as a party popper was inside, and went off with a soft pop, sending a small amount of confetti into the air. Already on edge, everyone jumped when the popper went off. There was one piece of paper in the envelope, with a short message written in block letters. "BACK OFF" ................................................. The police were suitably embarrassed and in a statement to the stations, the assistant chief apologized and issued a dire warning to anyone filing false accusations and wasting police time and resources. The announcer said "In related stories, a local man with a lengthy criminal record was arrested after police found a felony amount of cocaine in a baggie in the trunk. The man denies all knowledge of the drugs being in his vehicle." "An as yet unnamed foreign national was stopped on interstate sixty five south and arrested for almost the exact same amount of drugs, packaged similarly. The D.E.A. has expressed interest in both cases." The station manager gave an editorial, crying out for law enforcement to curb the spread of drugs and lawlessness creeping up from below the border. The next day almost every paper in Birmingham had the same editorial appear in the paper. A ground swell of public opinion was rising, powered by a bipartisan political action committee with seemingly unlimited funding. Things were starting to get hot for the Escobar interests. ................................................ Gwen had no idea she was being watched at first. She was angry someone had filed a false report and tried to embarrass her, but soon forgot about it. She was coming out of The Chambers, a favorite watering hole of lawyers and court officials, when three men appeared, two grabbing her while the other pulled a hood over her face. Just before the hood covered her eyes she saw a blur of blonde hurtle out of the darkness, followed by yells and screams. Some one snatched her up and was carrying her away, she was trying to scream when the hood came off and a man clamped his hand over her mouth. "Be quiet now, Aunt Gwen. I gotta get you outta here." It was the magic words, she put her arms around his neck and started crying. She was placed in the back of a van. Another man she didn't know quickly checked her over. "You're all right, Miss Gwen, calm down now, we've got you." "Who are you?" "Family, that's all you need to know right now. We're gonna take you out to Grandpa Hardys' house for the night. We'll have you home tomorrow morning, all right?" Aunt Hildy welcomed her in, putting her in the bed and sitting by her until she was calmed. "What's going on, Aunt Hildy?" "Child, don't ask me to break a confidence." "It's Hardy, isn't it? He's watching over me." Hildy smiled. "In the words of a famous politician, I can neither confirm of deny that statement." "But how did he know when to be there?" "Hypothetically, let's say there's a man who loves a woman very much, even if he won't do anything about it. Let's also say, for the sake of discussion, that he is determined she not come into harms way. Let's also say, thanks to the foolish actions of the woman, the man has a tremendous amount of disposable income, and chooses to spend some of it protecting her." "Speaking of Hardy, he's all right isn't he? He didn't get hurt protecting me, did he?" Gwen spoke the words in a rush. "I don't think so, honey, your cousins didn't say, so expect not. Now, go to sleep. Ham and eggs for breakfast." After a restless night she tried to eat the hearty breakfast Hildy made with little success. Her new found cousins didn't mind destroying it, though. She was hugging them goodbye, when she felt a lump at Joshua's side. Pulling back the shirt she saw a large revolver strapped to his belt. "I want the truth. What have I gotten you into?" Joshua looked kind of embarrassed. "Well, child, when you can't get to someone, sometimes it's easier to get to a relative. We'd rather be safe than sorry. Don't worry, you take care of business and it'll all be over soon." She noticed a few more cousins than usual around the place. "How many does Hardy have watching Grandpa and Hildy?" She asked as they pulled away. "Enough, some you can't see. They'll be fine." When he dropped her off he escorted her in. He gave her a little advice before he left. "You'll see me, and a few others you recognize from time to time. Don't acknowledge us or let on you know us. Remember, when this is over we'll all be gone." "One more question. How did Hardy know they were going to try that last night?" "He didn't, he was just getting an update from us. It was a right time, right place sort of thing." She hugged him and told him to thank the rest of his crew for her. ............................................... Karen talked to her at lunch. "Hear what happened last night at The Chambers?" Gwen was glad she had her mouth full, it gave her time to frame her answer. "No, I was there last night but left early. What happened?" "There was some sort of fight in the back parking lot. When the cops got there they found two Mexicans, beat half to death. They wouldn't talk, so they held them for a few hours and let them go." "What were they doing in the parking lot" "The police think it was a drug deal gone bad. Man, they're everywhere these days." Gwen agreed. "Yeah, you're just not safe anywhere any more." As they got up to leave she asked how the counseling sessions were going. "We got the individual sessions out of the way, and our first joint session is this week." "I hope it works out for you. Will Hardy be able to drive by then?" "Why wouldn't he be?" "Well grandpa told me this morning his arm was sprained and he had a nasty cut, took eighteen stitches and six staples to close up. He's got it in a sling. Grandpa said he fell off a tractor while helping Joshua." Gwen felt a little faint. "Grandpa also treated a Mexican fella, broke leg, broke arm, several cuts. He fell off a tractor too. Dangerous things, tractors." ................................................ Things escalated. One of the cousins not even involved was beaten pretty badly. In retaliation, six of Don Vincentes' low level dealers were found in a stolen van with felony amounts of drugs, all stolen from his couriers. Don Vincente had to fly out to San Diego to open a new supply line. His mini war was costing him millions, D.E.A. and local law enforcement seemed to know about shipments before they even left the country, and very few major shipments were getting through. A Coast Guard cutter, acting on a tip, seized one of his boats with ten million in cocaine and marijuana. He had a leak, a serious one, that he needed to plug, fast. The other cartels thought he was losing his edge, and they were circling, nibbling at his business. He had always enjoyed San Diego. He was talking to people, discussing routes and schedules when the name of a local lawyer came up. "You might want to put him on retainer. He knows what we do and doesn't care, in fact, he's a customer, even invested some money. He's pretty sharp when he isn't high." ............................................... Allan Hovis hated his life. Forced to keep his word, he had moved West, finally settling in San Diego. He had resumes out to all the major law firms, but the few interviews he got led him nowhere. He was actually hired twice, but turned them down when he discovered he had to take a drug test. His funds dwindling, he opened his own office. It was terrible, he went from riding in jets to international destinations to chasing ambulances to the local hospital. His luck seemed to change when he defended a mid level drug dealer, getting him off on a technicality. The dealer gave him an ounce as a bonus, and he made gentle inquiries about investing. He had seventy thousand left from his settlement. He was allowed to invest fifty thousand on the promise he would defend the dealer and his friends when they needed it. The need arose from time to time, he won some, lost others, but always did his best for them. They still paid him. His original investment had grown to almost two hundred thousand and he continued to let it ride. His goal was ten million, then he would retire to an island somewhere, buy a villa, and furnish it with young, willing, beach bunnies. Don Vincente caught Allan on a good day, not high, but just enough in his system to keep him stable. Allan was afraid of him, he radiated power. "Diego speaks highly of you. I'm pursuing some business interests in the area, and he suggested you may be able to help me from time to time, should I need it." Allan could smell money. "Diego is too kind. I do what I can, when I can. I would be delighted to help a friend of his." "Thank you, My business has hit a small snag on the East coast, so I find myself seeking alternatives here in the West. Your Southern Americans are vulgar, and resist reason at times." "I can relate to that, Don Vincente. Last year I had a run in with a particularly disagreeable Southerner. It's one of the reasons I came West myself. But I have promised myself, if I ever get the chance, I would make him and his wife regret ever meeting me." Don Vincente was in a good mood and had a little too much to drink, or he would have been more guarded. "Ah, yes, never forget your enemies. After this little difficulty is settled, Senor Wilkes and his puta wife will regret hearing my name." Allan choked on his drink. "Wilkes? That wouldn't be Hardy and Gwen Wilkes, would it?" "Indeed. You know of them?" "Yes, Don Vincente, I do. They have cost me much, recently." Don Vincente laughed. "Well then, ever heard the expression 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'? I think, Allan, you could be my friend. Let me tell you of my troubles. Perhaps you could be of greater help than I thought." He gave Allan a brief history of his interactions with the family Wilkes. "I've tried several things to resolve this, to no avail. It seems every time I think I have a little leverage, I'm thwarted." "What would it be worth to you for me to fix this?" "You would have my eternal gratitude, plus a very nice financial reward. Your dream of retiring soon would be moved up by years if you could accomplish this." "Consider it done, my patron. I will leave for the east coast tomorrow. Anything else I can be of service with, let me know." There was something else he could do. Unknown to Allan, his corvette was packed with cocaine. A little something extra. Don Vincente so enjoyed multitasking. He gave Allan ten thousand dollars to drive, telling him to pay cash at Mom and Pop gas stations and small diners, to avoid cameras. It would look like he never left the state. ................................................ The individual sessions went reasonably well. Hardy already knew, but Gwen found out quickly evasions and half truths would not be tolerated. Bill insisted on the truth and wouldn't let go until he got it. After the sessions he reviewed and collated his notes, and waited for the fireworks. ................................................. Gwen was fifteen minute early, vowing to never be late after the first session. Hardy was already there. "Good, we'll start a little early since you're both here. Here is what is going to happen. I'll do a lot of talking the first little while, then you'll each get a chance to speak. I warn you, stick to the topic at hand or the session will terminate immediately, and it won't be counted. Do you understand? I expect a verbal confirmation from each of you. Hardy?" "I understand the rules, Bill. Can we get on with it?" "In due time. Gwen, do you understand?" "Yes, Bill, I'll play by the rules." "Good, good, now that's what I want to hear. Now, for the next few minutes, I'm the only one allowed to speak, okay? I want to go over some of the stuff from your solo sessions, and start my course of therapy." He paused, looking at them. They were in chairs placed at opposite ends of the room. Gwen went to pull hers closer but Bill stopped her. "Please leave the furniture in place, there's a reason for it." "First, you two come from totally different worlds. Next, you're almost a half generation apart in age. Your values, at least during your marriage were widely different. In fact you're almost complete opposite in every aspect but two." "One, for some reason not known to man, you love each other. Now, Hardy, don't blow up, I didn't say you had to stay together, just stating what you both have admitted. Second, and most important, you have no idea who each other are. You've never actually met. You both went into a marriage based on lies and half truths. I'm, no we, are going to change that. The rest of the session and maybe one or two more will be spent by introducing yourselves to each other. Put it on the same footing as a first date. You're interested or you wouldn't have agreed to the date. So, we're going to start by physical introductions. Hardy, get up, go over, shake the woman's hand, and introduce yourself. Go on now, don't be bashful." He looked like he was going to an execution. Bill encouraged him. "Go on, Hardy. Speak up, the lady is waiting." Gwen had stood up. Hardy stopped in front of her, not close, but not far. "Hello, my name is Hardy Wilkes. How are you this evening?" It was said in a monotone, but it was clear and direct. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Wilkes. I'm Gwen Wil...I mean Canaday. I feel better tonight than I have in a long time, thank you for asking." She held out her hand. "Don't be rude, Hardy, shake her hand. It won't kill you." Bill was grinning, but they couldn't see it. He had never seen the man so tentative, holding out his hand like he expected it to be cut off. Gwen took it gently, holding it for a second. "Good, good. Now, please be seated. Would you like to ask her some questions, get to know her a little better? I bet she's fascinating. Remember now, first date questions, nothing about past relationships." He was trying to frame a question when Gwen spoke up. "Maybe I should start. As I said, my name is Gwen. I'm a lawyer by trade, right now I'm an assistant district attorney in Jefferson County. I grew up in Boston, did you catch my accent? It's not as strong as when I first moved her, but people still turn and look. I'm twenty seven, was home schooled during my teen years, entered college just past my sixteenth birthday. Didn't take breaks between semesters, had my law license at twenty two. I went to work for my dad, he is the principal owner in a firm, you may have heard of it, Canaday and Associates? He's a fifth generation lawyer, it runs in the family." She paused for breath, afraid she had said too much. "Good, Gwen, good. Now, Hardy, would you like to tell Gwen a little about where you grew up? Maybe comment on what you heard?" He took a deep breath, as if considering his words carefully. "I have heard of Canaday and Associates, they have an office here too. Good firm, very respected. I happen to know Greg Canaday personally, a fine man. Someone to be proud of. I've heard his daughter was a bit spoiled, but you can't trust rumors." Bill was about to interject but Hardy kept going, noting Gwen wince at the last statement. "As for me, the common term around here was 'poor white trash' when describing my family. My mother was a cheater, and my sister followed in her footsteps. My dad was a petty criminal, and I pretty much followed in his footsteps. Luckily for me, some influential friends managed to get me into the military. I served most of two tours in Iraq and was invalided out of the Army. Never got the ducking thing, I guess. I had physical and emotional therapy, and lo and behold, ended up a lawyer. I have more relatives than you can shake a stick at around here, some good people, some lowlifes of the worst stripe. I guess I'm somewhere in the middle, nobody is sure where I'll land." "I'm sure you'll land on your feet, good men always do. Despite your beginnings and upbringing, you've managed to better yourself through hard work and determination. I admire that. By, the way, I see your arm is injured. Are you alright?" Gwen couldn't keep the concern out of her voice. Hardy laughed. "I'll be fine soon. Farming accident. Doesn't pay to get inattentive working with dangerous equipment." "Did you damage the equipment?" She was smiling. "Well, I did knock some paint off, and a couple of the moving parts got broken, but they were repaired and seem to be mending." Bill interrupted, trying to get them back on track. "As interesting as that exchange was, let's stay on track. Maybe I should direct a question or two." "Gwen, let's start with an easy one. Where do you see yourself in ten years, career wise, what kind of relationship do you see yourself in, where do you think you'll settle down?" "That's an easy one, Bill. I see myself in a loving relationship, happily married to the man of my dreams, with a child or two, maybe even three. I intend to stay in this area, I have family and friends and I like it here. Career wise, I couldn't tell you. We won't need to work for a living, so I may become a housewife, at least until the children are older. I can see my husband as a gentleman farmer, provided he stays away from heavy equipment." She couldn't resist a little smirk. "And you, Hardy, what do you think of that plan?" "I must admit, that's not the vision I'm getting. You seem too goal oriented, forgive me, but too self centered to be settled down with a family." Before Bill could interject, Gwen came back. "That would have been true a year ago. But my priorities have changed, my extended family have become important to me. I've found the more I think about making others happy, the less I worry about foolish things. I love my career as a lawyer, be it in court or in a boardroom, but I've found it won't keep you warm at night, won't snuggle you, hold you and tell you it will all be fine, because it loves you. And believe me, that's far more important" Bill was watching the exchange closely, noting the reactions of Hardy, going from incredibly sad, to frustrated, to disbelieving. Time for a change. "Tell us Hardy, where do you see yourself in ten years?" Hardy grunted. "The way my life is going, I'll probably be dead in ten years. If not, I'll hopefully still be practicing law, and maybe, just maybe, I 'll have people around me who love me, there's even an outside chance I'll have someone, maybe even a child or two, if I'm not too old. Who knows?" Bill looked at the clock. "Well, time to stop. I want you to think about something before next time. I want you to give it serious thought. Write it down if it helps you clarify your thoughts. " Boston to Birmingham Ch. 04 "Here is what I want you to do. I want you to define love, not in the abstract, but your personal definition of love. I want to compare your definitions alone first, and then in the session I want you to read your definition to each other, giving explanations and clarifications if needed. See you next week." Gwen hung back as Hardy left. "Do I have a chance with him?" Bill gave her a classic non answer. "That's not up to me to say. Good night, Gwen." ................................................ Allan was cranky. Two days on the road. A fucking ticket in Texas, fifteen miles over the speed limit. There went the low profile. He managed to talk the cop down to ten over the limit so he didn't have to go to court, promising to pay the fine before it came to court. Good party in Phoenix, though. Two hookers, lots of coke, he didn't want it to end. Two hours out from Birmingham he called Gwen, Don Vincente was kind enough to give him her new number. "Gwen, baby, what's up. Miss me?" She knew who it was, but had to ask. "Who the hell is this?" "It's Allen, baby. Ready for some more blond on blond lovin'?" "I don't know how you got my number, don't really care. Lose it, never call me again. I hope you have a miserable, shitty life." She hung up. He called right back. "Baby, before you hang up, I need to tell you I got pictures of you doing coke in Paris, butt naked with the straw up your nose. We need to talk." She sighed, this was just perfect. Another asshole out to ruin her life. "Cut to the chase Allan, what do you want?" "Well babe, as much as I would love a repeat of the last time we met, this is business. Thanks to you, your dad, and that asshole husband of yours, mu life sucks. But I've made new friends, started a new career. Meet me somewhere, and I'll tell you everything." She made arrangements to meet him at a truck stop just outside of town. Just as soon as she hung up she called the judge, quickly explaining. "I can't let Hardy find out he's here, he'll kill him. If he finds out he came to see me Hardy will read it all wrong and never take me back. What am I gonna do?" J.T. was frail in body, but his mind was sharp as ever. "Call him back, change the meet location to the address I'm giving you. Tell him whatever he wants to hear, just get him there." After she rang off he called his son. "Will Rob, you are about to have one doozy of a problem." He filled him in and they quickly made plans. Hardy was just coming out of the courthouse when a deputy, his cousin Ebb, stopped him. "Hardy, I need you to come with me. Don't get mad, but let me put the cuffs on you, make it look like I'm arresting you. I'm even gonna put you in the back. I'll explain everything later, please, Will Rob said it was important." He wasn't thrilled about being cuffed, but he and Will went way back, and he knew he had his reasons. It was just getting twilight, the shadows were getting long, and they were driving into the sun so he couldn't exactly see where he was when they stopped. It was an old abandoned farm house, over grown with weeds and crumbling with neglect. There were three cars already there, Wills', Gwens', and a red corvette he didn't recognize. He was starting to get a tingling in his forehead, his adrenalin was rushing. He had stopped taking the pills until the thing with the Escobar kid was over. Felt like he needed the edge. Ebb turned the car slightly and he recognized Allan. He spoke in a very quiet voice that still set chills running up and down the deputy's spine. "Ebb, I need you to take these cuffs off me and let me out of the car." "Hardy, Will said to keep you here. He'll be along in a minute to explain things. J.T. is with him, they're not gonna let any harm come to Gwen. Try to relax." "I need out, right now, Ebb. Do it!" Will came over. "Hardy, you need to stay calm. Gwen called us, said this guy was threatening her, and she was afraid you'd find out and get the wrong idea. He and I are gonna have a little talk, then I'm going to invite him to leave our fair state, never to return. It'll be over soon and we can all go home." Allan was scared. Sheriff Andy and deputy dog didn't act friendly, and he had no idea who the old guy was, but he looked downright pissed. He realized he was an idiot for agreeing to such an isolated meeting, but he had already decided it would work for him. He'd show her the pictures, get her to do something to screw up the Escobar trial, and maybe get a little pussy as a bonus. Then the cops showed up and it went south fast. While he wouldn't admit it, every time he looked at Hardy he felt queasy, flashing back to the pain he had experienced. He was also a little high, snorting a line just before he met Gwen for an added boost of confidence. There was at least an ounce left in the dash, he would be up shit creek if they decided to look. The sheriff came over, just looking at him until he became uncomfortable. He actually jumped a little when he started talking. "Mr. Hovis, I'm hearing disturbing things about you. Coming into my county, threatening one of our locals. I take a dim view of that. Know how long you could get for attempted blackmail in our state? The guys in Huntsville would love you, a Yankee and a lawyer. Some of them might even think you're pretty, those black boys really like blonds." Suddenly his grand plan seemed foolish and he started looking for a way out. He had just enough coke in him to try to bluster and threaten. "Hold on, now. I was just stopping by to say hello to an old friend, maybe share a memory or two. I have no idea what she told you, but unless I've done something illegal that you can substantiated, I believe I'll be on my way." "That man," he said, pointing at Hardy, "has already assaulted me once. Luckily for him I was in no position to defend myself, being balls deep in his wife at the time, or it would have ended much differently. You're a pussy, Wilkes, you couldn't come close to me in a heads up fight. Good thing you're locked up, I'd love to embarrass you in front of your woman. No, wait, she was fucking me so that must have made her mine." Hardy leaned back and kicked the car door as hard as he could. Seeing how sturdy it was, he changed tactics and kicked the window several times. It wouldn't break, but started leaning outwards. Frustrated, he tried the other window, hitting it just right after a few kicks, shattering it. He tried to crawl through, with Ebb and Will pushing him back. He was flushed and was practically screaming. J.T used a voice that had four decades of courtroom authority behind it, Hitting the hood of the corvette with his cane, he shouted. "Enough! Hardy, behave yourself, right this instant. YOU, Yankee boy, shut the fuck up. One more peep out of you and I'll tell them to let him go. I'll defend him myself, he won't do three years in a looney bin, after all, I got witnesses to swear he was legally insane at the time. You'll be dead so no one will argue about it. Now, if you want to live, I suggest you listen to our sheriff." "Mr. Hovis, if it was up to me, and it is, I'd arrest your ass right now. But, since it could easily get messy for some very fine people, you get one chance. They would get hurt, but you'd still end up in jail. Get your ass in that shiny little car and get the hell out of my county. Don't come back. Ever. This is your only chance, take it before I change my mind." He was partly stoned, but he had enough brain cells firing to know it was time to cut and run. Don Vincente would be displeased, but he would find a way to make it up to him. They had him empty his pockets, and as he was retrieving his items he noticed his cell phone missing. It had the pictures on it, he needed it back, he might still be able to use it. "Where's my phone?" Gwen smiled sweetly. "I'm so sorry, Allan, it must have fallen off your hood, and I stepped on it. My oops. Tell you what, send me the bill for a new one. Now leave, and have a miserable, shitty life." She had literally stomped the phone to pieces. He was going to try to retrieve it and see if he could salvage anything, but the sheriff told him to leave it. Hardy was still struggling, and that damn dog in the deputy's car was barking like mad. He left as fast he thought he could go. Hardy calmed down after about ten minutes. The dog was still barking. "What the hell's the matter with Belle? She's been going crazy since you got here." Ebb grinned at his boss. "I'd bet my bottom dollar there were drugs in that car. A good bit judging by the way she's acting." "Interesting" said Will Rob, fishing out his phone. "Coy, how the hell are you? Got a good feeling about the election? That state trooper wants to be sheriff bad, and he's got some money boys behind him." "Tell me, you still got that tough on crime campaign going? Still fond of Yankees, lawyers, and drug dealers? Okay then, I might just make your day." "I've got a gift for you, might make you look good to the voters. In oh, say thirty minutes, a big blond guy in a shiny red corvette is about to go breezing through your county on sixty five heading north. I got a hot tip he was carrying drugs, but it came in too late for me to do anything about it." "Yeah, I'm still getting anonymous tips right and left on my hot line. Somebody must really have a hardon for those Mexicans, and I'm reaping the benefits. I was gonna retire next year, but if this keeps up the voters will lynch me if I try it." "Coy, one thing, you didn't hear this from me. I don't want my source to get upset, they might have some more information. Your welcome. Say hey to Myra. See ya." He hung up the phone with what can only be described as a shit eating grin. "Well, children, I've done my civic duty for today. Time to go home, supper's waiting. Hardy, you're gonna pay for those windows. And you're welcome. Good night to you, Miss Gwen, see you in court." Gwen was trying to explain things to Hardy, but he sat stone faced. Sighing, she gave up and left. ................................................ An hour later, Allan was still fuming over his failure. He had pulled over at a rest stop and did a couple lines to calm him. It helped, some. Suddenly blue lights went on behind him. Fuck, what is it with these rednecks? First Texas, now this. He looked down and swore, the speedometer was sitting on ninety five. Pulling over, he was about to put his sorrowful face on when another cruiser pulled in front of him, and another pulled beside him, boxing him in. Two deputies and a state patrolman pulled their service weapons and ordered him out of the car and on the ground. Ten minutes later he's handcuffed in the back of one of the cruisers when the Sheriff and two DEA vans pulled up, followed by two TV news crews. Shit, they must really hate speeders. One DEA van had two dogs, and they were practically trying to eat his car. He got a real, real, real bad feeling. It was all over the news the next morning. The announcer almost couldn't talk for glee. "A traffic stop last night yielded unexpected results. Allan Hovis, a lawyer from California, was pulled for doing twenty five miles an hour over the speed limit. A routine examination resulted in evidence there were drugs in the car. It was towed to the DEA lab in Montgomery, where it was disassembled and was found to have nine pounds of cocaine stored in several different locations in the car. There are rumors that the lawyer is somehow associated with a Mexican drug cartel. Just another instance of the growing tide of drugs flowing up from the south." They held Allan in isolation, citing homeland security, as the cartels have been known to deal with terrorists. He was in deep shit and knew it. He sang like a bird, after getting guarantees of safety. The DEA guys gave him assurances he was safe, but they knew from experience, if the cartel wanted you, nothing could save you. Their hope was to keep him alive long enough to testify. .................................................. Don Vicente was in a rage. He knew the weak character of the California lawyer. He would definitely talk. It might be a good time to go back home for awhile. In truth, he didn't like his nephew much, but he had sworn to his dying sister he would keep him safe. Plus it had now become a point of pride. If he were to lose this, his power base would be compromised. He was at his wit's end when providence gave him a gift. A man who could be useful contacted one of his subordinates, was checked out, and found interesting. A meeting was set. He disliked Ronnie Wilkes on sight. Any man who would betray his family was not to be trusted. But he had put together a plan that would probably work. "Look, you and I know there is no way you can get to his wife, they've got her wrapped in three levels of security. But the man he loves most in the world, his grandfather, is a creature of habit." "Every two weeks he and Aunt Hildy go to town. She grocery shops and gets her hair done while Hardy gets his haircut and gets what farm supplies he needs before they meet for lunch at the diner." He's at Tommys' Barber Shop no later than ten. He'll have two guys with him. One stays outside while the other goes in. That's where he's accessible. I'll have a car waiting in the alley out back. I'll go in with some story about how he has to get out now and hustle him out the back door. We'll have him in the car before he knows what's going on." "He won't suspect a thing, after all, I'm family and supposed to be helping keep an eye on them." "What do you want?" Ronnie looked uncomfortable for the first time. "I need a good payoff for my boys, enough to get out of town and start somewhere else. And I'd like to work for you, I'm sure I could be useful." Don Vincente agreed to everything, knowing there was no way he would trust a traitor. ................................................ He was right. When all this first started, Hardy went to see Roy. "Roy, I'm sure by now you know trouble is coming. Your business is going to get hurt, I can't help that. When the law cracks down, they'll have to crack down on everybody. Before you get tore up, tell me, what does your crew average a month. Don't try to bullshit me." The number was a lot smaller than he thought. "Okay, here's the deal. I'll pay you that plus ten percent to lie low for the next two or three months. I'll also need some of your guys to keep an eye on a few people. I'm willing to pay extra for that. Can we reach an agreement?" They could and did. All activity except bookmaking would stop. He had commitments with 'some gentlemen from New Orleans' he couldn't break. He surprised Hardy. "You know, I would have done this for nothing. Family ties." He was moved. "Thanks cousin Roy, but your business is going to hurt from my actions, and I can't have that on my conscience, family ties." They shook. ................................................ Will Rob dropped by his office. "Got a minute?" Hardy pointed to a chair and had Crystal make a pot of coffee. "What's up Will?" "First, Bonnie is going to be in town for a few days and wants to see you." Bonnie was his daughter, a couple years younger than Hardy. Hardy brightened. "How is the esteemed state senator? Tell her to name the time and place." "I'll let her give you an update on her life. I'm sure she'll call." He sat silent for a minute. "Spit it out Will, before it gives you indigestion." "I see what's happening. I'm pretty sure who's behind all those hot line tips I'm getting. Still not sure where the information is coming from, actually, as long as they keep coming I don't care." "When the thieves go quiet it makes me nervous. Thank goodness for the pimps, it gives the guys something to do. Bad things are coming, sure as shootin'. I want your word that you'll use whatever influence you have that average people don't get hurt. Keep your war private, and I'll have no reason to start asking embarrassing questions. Understand me?" Hardy grinned. "Will Rob, I have no idea what you're talking about. But in a hypothetical situation, I would assure you that no expense would be spared to make that happen. Happy now?" "As happy as I'm gonna be, I reckon. Damn Hardy, I like you, but every time you're around my life gets more complicated. I'll tell Bonnie to call. Thanks for the coffee." ................................................ It went off without a hitch. Ronnie burst into the barber shop just as Joshua got out of the chair. "Joshua, we got to get you out, now! I got a car waiting out back, they're watching the front. Roy found out they were gonna try to grab you, Let's go!" He led him through the back of the shop, the young cousin trailing behind. "Quick, behind you!" The young man turned and Ronnie hit him with the blackjack, knocking him unconscious instantly. Joshua started to struggle, but he tapped him, dazing him into submission. Hardy got the email with pictures in forty five minutes. Joshua tied to a chair, with an obvious lump on his forehead. The message was short. "She throws the trial or he dies. Respond by ten tomorrow." Hardy felt the rage rising, welcoming it with open arms. It was a long night. His first act was to get Gwen out of town without knowing they had Joshua. Four carloads left town, and no one knew which one she was in. Outside of town they picked up four more vehicles, they split into pairs with the first four and went in different directions. The next morning at nine a.m. Don Vincente got a response. There was a picture of Raul, beaten almost past recognition. The message was short and to the point. "Call this cell before eleven, or Raul dies at noon. No one can protect him." Don Vincente checked the prison. There had been a near riot, oddly Raul was the only one seriously hurt. Security was tight, rumor was someone was going to die at noon. At ten thirty he made the call. "There will be a man in a black four wheel truck in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly on ninth. Follow him, bring as many as you want with you, as long as one of them is my grandfather. No later than four. Raul lives until six unless I get what I want. There will be a few more pictures at two, just as an incentive." He disconnected. Don Vincente found it disconcerting. No offer to negotiate, no threats, no discussion. He paled when he got the next pictures. His wife, his twin daughters, laughing at his villa in Cozumel. The time stamp was forty five minutes ago. Five big Suvs followed the truck out of town. They went down a rural two lane until the truck stopped at a gate. The driver opened it, motioning them through. He then locked the gate, turned around, and left. A well tended lane led through fields and sparse woods before stopping by a pond. There were two oaks beside the pond with picnic tables under the shade. The area was clear for four hundred yards, with plowed fields and short wheat just coming up. Hardy sat under the trees, a fishing rod and cooler beside him. There was a beer in his hand. He rose and placed the bottle on the table. Eighteen men got out of the vehicles, sixteen fully armed with everything from Uzis to pump shotguns. Don Vincente strode forward, trying to control his temper. Hardy spoke before he could explode. "Please sign this, and give me a hundred dollars." It was a contract calling for Hardy to consult on the defense of his nephew. "This gives us client lawyer protection. I'll be bound by law not to give any information about this meeting. Surely you see the advantage." A hundred dollar bill appeared and the paper was signed. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 04 Vincente exploded. "You arrogant bastard! How dare you threaten and harm my family. I'm going to take pleasure in watching you die slow." Hardy waited his tirade out. When he finally wound down Hardy simply said "beer bottle". It exploded into small pieces, without the sound of a shot. He looked into the shocked faces around him before smiling. "Suppressors are wonderful, aren't they? And these ear buds, you'd be amazed at the range they have. Look at your chests." Vincente looked down, three red dots were centered on his chest. He looked round. "They're in the tree line." "That's over four hundred yards!" he exclaimed. Hardy grinned. "Yes, three of the people in the trees are ex military, snipers. One holds the record for the third most distant kill, almost nine hundred yards. The rest are just good ol' boys who cut their eyeteeth hunting deer. You can't see them, but there are another three a lot closer. Don't worry, all I want to do is talk, I just wanted to get your attention. Tell your guys to be calm, nobody has to die today. What say you and I sit down in the shade and have a beer? But first, send Grandpa across the field. You don't need him anymore, you've got me. I give you my word, unless you start it, there will be no violence here today." Vincente said something in Spanish. One of his men opened a door, and Joshua and Ronnie got out. "Damn, Ronnie, they got you too? Well. Do me a favor and help him across the field." Hardy had heard his grandpa cuss before, but never like this. "He's in on it, boy! He's the one got me, the one that gave me this lump! He's the lowest kind of snake. You don't expect this shit from family." "That true, Ronnie?" It was said softly, but Ronnie looked in his eyes and saw death. "Well, not exactly, I......." Joshua blew up. "Yes, fucking exactly. Ask him!" He pointed at Vincente. He nodded. "You know how it is. Use whatever tools available to get the job done." Hardy looked Ronnie over. "When this is over, me and you are gonna talk." Ronnie felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. Old people said that happened when somebody stepped on your grave. "Enough family chit chat. Don Vincente, if you would." They walked to the picnic table and watched Joshua walk into the trees. Hardy flipped open a laptop. "Look at this." It was a video of his villa, with his family on the beach. They seemed to be looking for something. They started pointing and laughing. A large, remote control boat was crashing through the waves, shooting fireworks out of the smokestacks. There were three packages on the deck. When it beached, the bodyguards pulled it in, laughing. The women and two children tore into the packages. He watched in horror. "Relax, Mr. Escobar. You just surprised your family with a loving gift. They were told it was coming, but not what it was. There's a note in you wifes' present, telling them how sorry you are for being away from home so much lately. The girls, aren't they lovely? They got a gold locket each and a brand new, state of the art smart phone with international capabilities, so you can tell them goodnight no matter where you are in the world. Your wife got the same phone, and you know how much she likes emeralds, she got a nice, really nice necklace. I won't embarrass us by telling you what it costs, but you said in your note she was the moon and stars to you, and it was just a small token. You're gonna get some good loving when you get home. And if you're wondering, the note is in your handwriting, even using the pet name you have for your wife while you make love." "Here, this one is yours, and I know you'll check them out, but they're all clean. She should be calling in about thirty seconds." The phone rang before he stopped talking. He held it like a snake before putting it to his ear. It was his wife, crying, telling how wonderful he was, how much she loved him, when was he coming home? And yes, she did tell him he would get a very special welcome home gift. As soon as he hung up his children called, one after the other. Hardy smiled. "Family is wonderful, isn't it? I don't know what I would do without mine. Now down to business." "Those presents could just as easily been bombs. I don't have your money, but I've got some, and part of it is in a fund that can only be accessed by me or two designated agents. If I and anyone in my family comes to harm, your family dies. You get to live, I want you to carry the memory for a long time." Vincente looked into his eyes. "You're a monster!" Hardy replied in kind. "We're both monsters, Mr. Escobar. What you and I are capable of goes far beyond the understanding of most people, yet we can do it and sleep at night. If we continue, people are going to start dying, people who don't have anything to do with this, on both sides. Let's stop it now." "What do you suggest?" "Let the kid take a plea deal. He's a punk, you know it as well as I. He's traded on your name to the point he believes himself untouchable. I'm sure this morning gave him a wake up call. He's twenty, he could be out in eight years. Maybe it'll make a man of him. Or he might end up with a bitch tag, but I'm sure you'll make sure he's protected." "This little war has cost you what, thirty million? And it's going to get worse. Your California lawyer is no doubt singing like a bird. Heard from Diego in San Diego lately? You won't. Cut your losses, mend your fences, rebuild your business before it's too late. Give me your word, and all of this grief will go away, or at least my part of it." Vincente was still shocked about the depth of his information. He made a decision. "If I give you my word, would you trust it?" "Yes I would, in all my research, your word apparently means something to you. I'll give you my hand on it." He held out his hand, and Don Vincente Escobar, feared by millions, took it. He knew there was no fear in this man, and he would honor his word. Rising he told Hardy to have Gwen write up the agreement, he would make sure it was signed. They walked back to the vehicles. Ronnie stood there in shock as they loaded up. "No," he screamed, "He's supposed to die!" He raised his shotgun, to have it knocked out of his hands by a man with a cane. He had his leg in a cast and his arm in a sling. Hardy thanked him. Pulling his shirt off,the men could see the fresh scar of the cut, and a smaller one on his neck no one had seen before. The group also saw all the old scars and bullet holes. Their eyes widened at the sight. "Tell him he's a malo hombre, and he almost got me." Another translated, and the man grinned. They shook. Vincente looked at Ronnie. "Do you want him?" "Not now, too many witnesses. Ronnie, run. You stay and I'll kill you slow, you understand?" He nodded, crawling into a vehicle. "One last word of advice. Leave now, don't even go back to your place. DEA is closing in, soon. Don't use your jet, they're watching it. Make other travel arrangements, now. Good bye, I honestly hope I never see you again." Vincente thanked him, and drove away, south. Hardy did indeed never see him again. Vincente looked back as they drove away, seeing men in gillie suits rising out of the fields, and what looked like a skirmish line coming out of the woods. He was very grateful no one had done anything foolish. He literally pushed Ronnie out of the car on the edge of town, and he watched on hands and knees as they sped away. ................................................ Gwen was stunned when the Escobar lawyers wanted to talk. She was even more shocked when they agreed to a deal, He got a lengthy sentence but could get out as early as seven years. All the tension, all the drama, and suddenly it all went away. Somehow, she knew Hardy was behind it. Her year was up. Paul and Karen were begging her to stay, Paul even hinting she would make a fine district attorney when he retired in two years. She was tired. the last twenty months had been at the least, interesting. She was exposed to a totally different world, and for the most part liked it immensely. She promised Paul she would think about it, but was going to take some time off to 'recharge'. The counseling had ups and downs. She didn't realize it at first, but the chairs were gradually moved closer, and one day they were gone, replaced by a large sofa. They were closer than they had been in a while, even if it was strained. The next session saw the sofa replaced by a small loveseat. She often wondered about what he did for sex. She made good use of the internet, buying enough toys to have a little variety. Two sessions ago she brought it up, with Bill's encouragement. He wondered too. She had told him about her toys in the individual session when he asked if she was seeing other men. "Until I'm divorced, I'll never touch another man. I promised myself." She delicately brought sex up, explaining to Hardy she was never going to stray again. He shocked them both by laughing. "You love sex, Gwen. Do you seriously think I believe you're doing without?" He laughed even harder when she told him about her toys. Finally she said in anger she could last as long as he could. That started a fresh round of laughter. "You've already lasted almost a year longer than I have, then. You destroyed the marriage covenant in my mind when you cheated. I've had a steady lover for the last ten months. I held out for awhile, then figured you were doing it, what difference did it make if I did it too." "Before you ask, it isn't Crystal. You don't know her, she doesn't even live in this area. I'm not in love, neither is she, but we're good together, she's a fun person. Intelligent, and definitely sexy." Gwen almost went into shock. He Hardy with another woman! How could he! She lashed out. "You need to stop this foolishness right now! I'm more than willing to give you all the sex you can handle, all you have to do is ask. The sooner you ask the better." "Sorry, Gwen, stomp your foot all you want. I may have already broken it off. I may still be going hot and heavy, but you'll never know, will you? How does it feel, wondering? Welcome to my world the last few months of our marriage." It was too much for Gwen, she rushed out of the office. When she didn't come back in five minutes, Bill went looking. Her car was gone. "She's gone. You really hurt her, you know that?" "I"ll apologize when I see her next, but not for doing it. She broke the marriage, not me." "You're not going to reconcile, are you?" "I don't see it happening. Yes, she's grown up. Yes she's more mature. Yes, I still love her. But really Bill, how much has she changed? It's been almost two years, and she won't let go. As far as the marriage is concerned, she's still stamping her foot saying 'I want'. She should have realized by now I can't forgive her, not for the infidelity, but for the disrespect." Bill sighed. He thought several times they were going to make it. "All right then. Next session will be the last, but promise me you'll tell her what you told me as gently as possible." "Are you still seeing the woman?." "No, she broke it off with me, suddenly. She said she was starting to have feelings for me, but for some reason that didn't ring true, but it was fun while it lasted." He really missed her. ........................................... He was sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and minding his own business, when she approached him. Short, red hair, cute, and very well built. The band was on break and you could actually hold a conversation. "Why aren't you dancing? I've seen at least four girls ask, and you've turned them all down. What's the problem?" He grinned. "Maybe I can't dance. Maybe I'm gay. Maybe I like minding my own business." She grinned back, no offense taken. "I doubt all of that. I bet you're a good dancer, I don't get the least gay vibe at all, and maybe I like minding your business too." She held out her hand. "Anne Burnside. Actually Captain Anne Burnside, U. S. Army." "Hardy Wilkes, Sergeant, U.S. Marines. Sorry about the Army thing, I bet you're still a nice person." "That remark will cost you a dance, soldier. Come on, fall too." "The band had started again. She was right, he was a pretty decent dancer, surprising for his size. He was a full foot taller than her. She still fit pretty good against he when they danced slow. They laughed, danced, drank. Both drank sparingly, the others seemed angry when he monopolized her time, but no one was brave enough to do anything about it. As for her, she seemed quite fine with his company. During the last set he got up. "I'm going to my room now." He strode off without another word. She sat there, shocked. He didn't even say good night. She got her purse and headed towards the door. He was standing there. "About time. I was about to give up on you. Come on." He led her gently to the elevator. She stood passively while he opened the door. He waited for her to enter first, but she just stood there. He took her arm gently. "Maybe this was a bad idea. Let me see you safe to your car." "No! I want you, but you make me nervous." "Why? Have I behaved badly? Made you uncomfortable? Are you afraid of me?" "Yes." Hardy was surprised. "Why do I scare you?" "My job has turned me into a pretty good people watcher. I usually have them pegged within fifteen minutes. You, I can't place. You seem nice, you're well behaved, but something in you simmers, just beneath the surface. You could be a very bad man." "Surprisingly, you're not the first to make that assessment. But I assure you, I've never hurt anyone who didn't try to hurt me first. And except for one time, I've never harmed a woman. Part of that was an accident. But I understand. Give me a kiss goodnight, surely I've earned that, and I'll leave you to the rest of your evening." She leaned forward as he bent his head, and for a fleeting second knew what the moth found attractive about the flame. It was a slow, sensual kiss, with a hint of the power and passion she knew he possessed. Forgetting her reservations, she kissed him back, forcing her tongue into his mouth, surprised he would allow it, when she felt his tongue come alive, overpowering hers and driving it back. She was lost and knew it. In his room, she found him forceful but surprisingly gentle. He was definite in what he wanted while not forcing her, and she responded in kind, pliable, willing to let him set the pace. He undressed her leisurely, like she was a present he was unwrapping, taking time to taste and explore each new area before moving to the next. By the time he had her down to her panties she was almost ready to explode. Despite her best efforts he would not be rushed. Finally both nude, she marveled at his body, well toned and muscular. She also noted his maze of scars, validation that this was indeed a dangerous man. She counted at least four bullet wounds. "Combat?" she whispered, tracing one particularly long scar with her fingertips. "Not that one. Most of these are from a youth lived badly." She decided to kiss every scar, trying to erase some of the memories he held. "From now on, every time you look at these, remember my lips on them. Change the memories to pleasant ones." She gripped his erection. "I think I need to check this for scars." She slid down his stomach, kissing his scars on the way down. Stoking his cock, she moved it back and forth, examining it. "Humm. No visible signs of damage. Maybe I need to take a closer look." He felt her tongue on the crown, so light he could have easily been imagining it. It took every ounce of control to keep from grabbing her head and forcing her down. He didn't have to wait long. Her warm lips engulfed him, it felt like he had dipped it in warmed honey. She was making little approving noises, varying the speed and depth of her assault. He felt the almost forgotten tingle of the approaching explosion, and tried to pull her up. "Anne, Anne! I'm about to cum!" She looked up into his eyes and plunged all the way down, burying her face in his pubic hair. Her throat seemed to be massaging him, and despite his efforts not to he gripped her head and poured months of frustration into her mouth. She never came off, even as her jaws bulged with the volume. After he was soft and cleaned, she slipped her mouth off and snuggled. "My God! That was fantastic! Thank you for that, but why didn't you let me pull off?" She grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Don't you know the Army always finishes what it starts. I must admit, I didn't expect the volume. How long has it been since you've bedded a woman?" "Almost a year." She couldn't keep the amazement out of her voice. "A year? That's a story worth listening to, and it can only have two spins. Either you were in jail, or somebody you loved fucked you over. I want you to tell me about it later." His lips had captured a nipple, while his hand massaged the other. She moaned. "Much later works for me." "Damn, he's almost as good as a woman." she thought as his tongue and fingers became familiar with her clit and pussy. He was in no hurry, pleasuring her through multiple orgasms. When he finally mounted her, she lost complete control. He went from soft and gentle to rough and demanding several times. Finally she surrendered, determined to give him what he needed. They loved, slept, and two hours later he would take her with fingers, tongue, or steel rod hardness. The third time she taunted him, saying he had tried everything but her ass, maybe he should go for the full package. She thanked her stars she had lube in her purse. How could something that hurts so bad at the start feel so good at the finish? She woke sore, bruised, and completely satisfied. His morning wood was quickly taken care of orally, citing soreness and a need to recover. They pretty much spent the whole weekend in bed, going out when they absolutely had to. In between lovemaking bouts he got the story of his marriage from him. "The girl sounds like a spoiled brat, but she seems to be growing up. Gonna take her back?" His look made her want to grab him and love the hurt away. "I doubt it. I still love her but just can't get over it. Too much redneck in me, I guess." "Not trying to cut my throat here, I'd love to see you again, but think about it hard. Maybe she is a better person now. You might want to give her a chance." He just grunted before capturing her nipple again. They agreed to meet when he came back in two weeks. Soon she couldn't wait until Friday. They became pretty much an item. The days he didn't spend the night or weekend hurt her, but he made it a point to take her to dinner or a club every time. Sometimes they even got in a quickie. The weekends were the best. They didn't spend ALL their time in bed. They did touristy things, went down to Florida, Amelia Island once, Jacksonville twice. They read with fascination about the local a.d.a. and his troubles with a drug cartel. The man seemed larger than life, and was constantly pictured, usually with a stunning woman on his arm. Hardy looked at the latest story and mumbled something about being able to relate. Their conversation later took an odd turn. They were lying in bed in post sexual bliss, snuggling. She felt him pull away and rise up on his arms. She opened her eyes to see him looking at her with an expression she had never seen. "Anne, honey, in all the time we've been together, have I've ever asked about your work, or presumed to ask a favor?" "No, we rarely talk about what we do. I thought you were in construction, you could have floored me with a feather when I found out you were a lawyer. What's on your mind?" Boston to Birmingham Ch. 04 "I need to find a man. A man with a specific skill set. A dangerous man, who stays loyal to the job he contracts. He needs to be familiar with Mexico and comfortable working there. Can you help me?" She rose and sat against the headboard. "Are you looking for a killer?" "Yes and no. I don't want anyone hurt, but I want him prepared to do whatever necessary to achieve the end I want. And I want the people I'm going to deal with to know he's prepared to kill if he has too." "What are you into? No, don't tell me, I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. Somehow I see your wife tied up in this. Wait, I've changed my mind, tell me a little more and I might help you." He told her of the situation his wife was in, and how he intended to help her. "You may not understand this, Anne, but until the divorce is final the family sees her as belonging to me. I can't let harm come to her, they may take things into their own hands and I won't be able to control them. It could get ugly, fast. Innocent people, people not even aware of what is going on, will be caught in the crossfire. I don't want that on my conscience." "Can you help me? If not, I'll go down to Mexico and recruit people myself." "Can you give me a few days? I could get into trouble helping you." "Sure, and if there's the least bit of doubt, don't help me." He gave her a big kiss and jumped into the shower. She sat on the bed, marveling again at his tight butt as it went through the door. She knew she would at least try to help, hoping she didn't help get him killed. .................................................. She was no fool, you didn't hold her job in military intelligence by being one. She had researched Hardy pretty hard after their first encounter. The information made her nervous, it was hard to reconcile the man on paper to the happy, smiling guy with the goofy sense of humor she slept with. But she had learned to trust her instincts, and her first assessment of him had been pretty much on the money. Deciding to take a chance, she made some discreet overtures to the 'farm boys', telling them it was purely research. That flimsy excuse got her called on the carpet of her commanding officer. Knowing better than to lie, she told him everything. He frowned, made a phone call, and she found herself in the office of Major Stein. She repeated the story. He sat, rocking slightly in his office chair, as he considered the news. Sitting up, he was suddenly all business. "Hypothetically, could you find someone who fits his parameters?" "Of course, sir. Already have." He eyed her sharply. "Your relationship with Mr. Wilkes, define it." "We're lovers, the new term is friends with benefits. I only see him when he is in town, I've never been to his home, met his friends and family, if that's what you're asking. There is a fondness between us, but we both know there's nothing long term for us. He's in the middle of a pretty interesting divorce, and I'm married to the Army for at least the next eight years." "Do you know why he needs this man?" "Not really, something to do with protecting his soon to be ex from some drug people I surmise." He sat back again, tenting his fingers. "Do it." She almost didn't catch his words. "I'm sorry sir, would you repeat that?" "Do it. Put him in contact with your man. And monitor Mr. Wilkes, if he looks even remotely on the edge of doing something unwise, alert your commander." Anne looked distressed. "Sir, I don't know if I could spy on...." He cut her off. "Nonsense! You knew when you sent out feelers it was going to get back to your boss. You're too sharp to have been so sloppy, you wanted us to question you so the situation would be exposed. You'll want to watch over him, this just gets you the means to do so through channels. We don't want details, just information that may be pertinent. Go on now, you have your orders." He sat back, thinking. "Hardy, Hardy, what are you up to now? Maybe Bill has some insight." So it came to pass that "Wilkes War" was closely monitored by the army. It lead to a wealth of information on the Escobar cartel, particularly North American contacts, on the East and West Coast. Some of the hot line tips even came from them. The information was very helpful to various agencies. Hardy never knew it, and Anne made sure the watchers didn't slip. Then, in a fluke chance of fate, while Hardy was in Mexico making contact with the man she had provided, she ended up drunk in a hotel room with his wife. Anne didn't believe in coincidence, and decided fate had told her to end it with Hardy. She did the next weekend they were together, in her normal upfront manner. She knew he suspected something, but was too considerate to last. Instead, he did his utmost to make their last time together memorable. As she watched the jet fade into the distance, she sat in her car and cried, wondering what if. ................................................ The last session with Bill was brutal in intensity. Gwen tried to be upbeat, but Bill stopped her. "Gwen, Hardy has some things to say to you. Please listen and try not to interrupt. Could you do that?" She nodded, felling the first tendrils of fear clutch her throat. Hardy slid a chair over to the loveseat, so he could face her. He held her hand gently. "When I was in Iraq the second time, I was tasked to meet and cultivate a local tribal leader. My interpreter and I happened onto a pre-marriage lecture to three couples. The cleric was speaking slowly, making sure the couples could hear and understand. We had to wait, so my interpreter explained what he was saying. I remember the words to this day." "My children, marriage is a sacred temple, supported by three columns. Love. Trust. Respect. Topple any one of those columns and the temple wobbles. Topple two, and the temple crashes to the ground Love is the strongest column, supported by respect and trust, for if either of those two weaken, love cannot be supported." "Do you understand, Gwen? I still love you, heart and soul. But you destroyed the temple, honey. You've destroyed my trust with your lack of respect. I believe you when you say you realize your mistakes, that you're a stronger, more mature person." "As such a person, you should know this marriage is over. But in this instance, because you want it so bad, you're still the spoiled little girl, saying 'I want'. I'm sorry, but this time it won't work." "I'm not coming back to counseling. Bill knows and understands. This is it. I'm leaving the papers here, if you truly are the person you say you've become, sign them." He leaned over and kissed her cheek before rising. "Goodbye, Gwen." Boston to Birmingham Ch. 05 Remember, this is a tribute to DQS1. Did you really think I would stop this soon? .................................................. She sat there, shocked so badly she couldn't even cry. He really was gone. She looked over at Bill. "Is it really over?" "I'm afraid so. For what it's worth, there was a couple of times when I thought you two would make it." "But why? I've grown up, changed into a better person, didn't he see that?" "Yes he did. He once told me how proud he was of how you matured, and the way you took to family down here." "Then why?" Bill sighed. What he was about to tell her would be painful, but if he got her to understand maybe it would bring her some peace. "First, let me say he still loves you, he was serious when he told you that. But Gwen, look at it from his side. You were the world to him. YOU were his validation that he had transcended his dark past, that he was a good person worthy of happiness. The fact that you chose him gave him an enormous amount of pride." "Then, when you started slighting him, acting embarrassed to be in his company, his perfect world starting cracking. When you cheated, it destroyed him. He told me in his solo session that he was proof 'no one gets above their raisin'', an expression meaning that when things get bad one reverts back to their upbringing. What he did when he caught you and that man together shocked him to his core. In one second, the world he had worked so hard to create was gone." "In his youth, trust was everything. You know what he did, so he had to have people around him he could absolutely depend on. A violation of trust could have very dire consequences. So he learned to be very careful who he let in, for fear of being betrayed." "You betrayed him, in his mind, in the worst possible way. I know we've talked about it several times but could never get you to understand." "Sign the papers, Gwen, give him some peace." Then the tears came. She wept for Hardy, for herself, for the future she no longer had with him. In the end she signed the papers and left them with Bill. ................................................ She did what any young girl does when faced with traumatic events. She ran home to daddy. Greg comforted her as best he could, sad that her marriage hopes finally died. She stayed two weeks, visiting old friends who welcomed her back with open arms. She was experienced enough now to wonder if they were really glad to see her. Not one had called of visited during what they called her 'exile'. They seemed vapid and shallow to her now. She couldn't bear to live in her townhouse, too many bad memories, so she took a suite in a five star hotel. The more people catered to her the more irritated she became. Finally realizing all her true friends were back in Alabama she told her dad she was taking a little vacation before she went 'home'. He understood, realizing his hope of her taking over the firm was probably gone, but glad she was finding her own happiness. The idea came to her while she was transferring items from her old purse to a new designer handbag she had purchased in a fit of boredom. A card fell out, Capt. Anne Burnside, U.S. Army. She called, and to her surprise, she answered on the second ring. "Anne? This is Gwen Wil...I Mean Canaday. Remember me?" She could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke. "I always remember beautiful blonds I sleep with. How are you?" "Divorced. Lonely. Distracted. I need a vacation, and some companionship with someone not associated with my old life. Can you get some time off? I'd love to go somewhere warm, with white sand beaches and clear blue water. Please come, my treat." "Define companionship." "Whatever comes. I don't have anyone to answer to but me any longer. I'm not leading you on here. Expect everything and nothing, and you won't be disappointed." "Well, what an intriguing offer. Let me call you back this afternoon. When would be better for you?" "I'm not working right now so anytime soon is fine." Anne hung the phone up. It was an attractive offer. She did a little checking and found that though the divorce hadn't been officially filed, it was signed off on. Due some leave time, she decided to go for it. After a few calls, they decided to leave the next Wednesday for four days. Gwen wouldn't tell her the destination, wanting to surprise her. Anne wanted to know what flight they would be on, and was shocked when Gwen told her it would be a private jet, and gave her the time and runway. "Did I mention I was a trust fund baby? Don't worry about a thing, this is all on me." She was suitably impressed with the jet, but blown away by Gwen. A new hairstyle, a much shorter skirt, four inch heels. They kissed as friends. After she had settled in she asked where they were going. "Oh, just a little resort in the islands I used to go when I was single." The place was beautiful, everything a tropical paradise should be. The suite was impressive, two bedrooms, top of the line everything. "What's first on the agenda?" "Gwen grinned. "Shopping! I need a few new bathing suits, and we need some really sexy clothes. We'll knock'em dead in the lounge tonight!" The resort had several upscale shops, and with money being no object, they spent with abandon. Anne got her first surprise when they looked over bathing suits. "Where are the tops?" The salesgirl and Gwen smiled. "Honey, these beaches are topless or nude. No one wears a full suit, but if you're embarrassed, I sure they could find you something." They picked out several thongs apiece, so small they may as well have been nude. Anne told Gwen she needed razors if she was going to go out with them on. She just smiled, and after hitting the shops and picking up a few dresses and lingerie, they spent the day at the spa, being waxed, massaged, and pampered. Anne decided being rich was not a bad thing. Even in a place catering to beautiful people, heads turned when the tall blonde and petite redhead entered the restaurant. They ate well, vowing to spend time in the gym the next morning. They danced with abandon later, rubbing their partners into a frenzy, and even danced together a few times. Anne felt the heat between them. Gwen was drinking hard, so Anne backed off to keep an eye on her. There were a lot of disappointed men when they went back to the suite alone. She undressed a very drunk Gwen and got her into bed. She looked at her sleeping, stroking her hair. Gwen was still very devastated over the end of her marriage, she had to wonder if she really wanted this weekend. Whispering "Everything and nothing", she slipped her clothes off and snuggled into Gwen, who immediately spooned into her. Sometime before daylight she felt her leave the bed, answering the call of nature. When she returned, she slid back the sheets and just stood looking. Anne wriggled and spoke. "Come back to bed, honey. I'm cold." Gwen slipped in and Anne immediately spooned into her. She was almost asleep when she felt Gwen slowly fondle her breasts. He nipples immediately hardened and she pushed her hand onto them, firmly. "That feels so good, baby, keep going." Gwen stiffened, she had thought Anne had gone back to sleep, then slowly massaged her breasts, stroking the rock hard nipples. Anne rolled over. "Know what's better than fingers? Lips." Gwen felt her tongue gently circle her nipple before latching on, sucking with urgency and passion. Her hand slipped between them, fondling her smooth skin. Her lips were puffy with desire, and a small amount of liquid seeped down her thigh. "Ooh, it looks like someone is ready for some loving. Let me do you first, baby, teach you how good a woman's touch can feel." She raised up, locking her lips onto Gwen. Soon they were kissing passionately, rolling tongues with abandon. Breaking off, Anne kissed her slowly down he body, savoring the feeling. Both nipples got a full working over, leaving them distended and sensitive. Her fingers had been lightly caressing her, sliding over her clit, slipping inside for a few seconds now and then. Gwen was moaning, and when her lips finally made contact with her clit, rolling it roughly, she exploded, gripping her hair tightly. Anne never stopped, using her tongue and fingers very effectively, until Gwen begged and pulled her up. "No more, I'm so sensitive now if you blew on it I'd probably pass out. Thank you, thank you, I never knew it could be so good." They lay for a moment, then Anne felt her lips on her left nipple. "You don't have to, you know", she said quietly, stroking her hair. Gwen raised up and looked her in the eye. "I don't have to, I want to. Anyone who can give me that much pleasure deserves a reward. It's been a year since anyone besides myself has touched me. You're a perfect fit for post divorce sex. Beautiful, caring, and most importantly, not a man. Now give me some direction, I'm new at this." Anne did give her directions, more with motions and touch than verbally. For someone new at it, she did a really good job. They finally dozed off in each others' arms just before daylight. .................................................. Gwen woke with a start, holding Anne in her arms. Was last night a mistake? Why did she feel like she was cheating? No, damn it! He threw her away. She was free now, she could do what she wanted with who she wanted. She found herself crying softly, and Anne woke to tears on her shoulder. Turning, she embraced Gwen as the crying became sobbing. She held her, whispering words of comfort in her ears. When she finally subsided she asked. "Feeling regret for last night?" "No, not at all. It's just for the first time, I know it's really over. I'm single now, it shouldn't matter who I choose to sleep with, but I just feel so guilty." "Baby, baby, It's understandable. It wasn't your choice to be single. I know you still love him. But it's all right, you'll get on with your life, even find love again. You're young, beautiful, and apparently filthy rich. Give it some time." "I know you're right, it just doesn't feel like it right now. Thank you for being with me. Feel like breakfast?" They showered, ordered breakfast in. Then they talked. "How did last night make you feel?" Anne couldn't help but ask. "Fulfilled. Happy. You were my first woman, you know. I never would have thought it would be so intense." Anne cooed happily "Oh honey, it just gets better. I'm gonna show you so much, if you'll let me." "If it gets any better, I don't think I could stand it. Ready to hit the beach?" When they reached the beach and got situated, Anne slipped off her robe, twirling around for her benefit. "Do you like it?" "It makes me want to have sex right here on the beach, does that answer your question?" "Come on babe, show me yours." Gwen hesitated and felt foolish. Before Hardy, she was never self conscious, preferring nude beaches when she vacationed. She quickly slipped off the robe. "Oops! Forgot to put it on. Oh well." "Show off!" Anne giggled, sliding the thong down her legs. It took her awhile to get used to, all the bronzed bodies of both sexes stimulated them no end. Gwen noticed her hardened nipples. "Now that I go both ways, it's like looking at a sexual buffet. Isn't that blond stunning?" "She is. And so is she, and him, and him, and her, and, oh my." Her eyes were riveted to a light skinned black man, muscled, hairless everywhere, shining with oil, and very, very well endowed. Gwen snickered. "If you want him, go get him, we're here as friends, remember? Just use protection, we don't need a gift that keeps on giving." Anne squirted some lotion in her hand. "No, I want to be with you right now. Maybe later we can share him. Now, roll over so I can lotion you up. We won't have any fun if you're sunburned." They lotioned each other, missing nothing. It drew a few admirers. They introduced themselves, flirting lightly. Promised a dance or two at the club. Gwen would relax for awhile, then tighten up remembering. She wished Hardy would have come with her just once, she would have loved flaunting him, knowing he was hers alone. For the next two days, they dined, sunbathed, danced, made love. The last night they had a group around them. They had made plenty of friends and she was finally relaxed. Stopping to sip her drink, she saw Anne dancing, grinding actually, with the black man she had been admiring. She looked over at their table and whispered in his ear. The whiteness of his smile showed all the way across the darkened room. Holding his hand, Anne brought him over. "Last night, lover. Let's make some memories." Agreeing to nothing, Gwen followed them to their suite. They were both naked before the door opened. Anne dragged him to the bedroom, stroking his erection. Gwen arrived just in time to see her swallow as much of his cock as she could, bobbing furiously. Looking up, she removed her mouth long enough to speak. "Come on over here and help me get him off quick so he'll last for us next time, then while he recovers we'll give him a show." Gwen dropped her dress to the floor, and walked over, wearing the briefest of thongs. She dropped to her knees and Anne aimed his cock in her direction. Suddenly she had a vision of Hardy. She shrieked and ran from the room. Anne left him throbbing and followed her into the other bedroom. "I'm sorry, Anne, I just can't do it. It would feel like the final betrayal, and I just can't." Anne wisely soothed her , cuddling her to her breast. "I understand, baby. But sooner or later, you're going to have to admit it's over. I'll send him back to his room and put you to bed." Gwen took her hand. "Don't. I know you've been wanting him since you saw him. I want to sleep alone tonight. Go, enjoy. We'll talk in the morning. Make him remember you for the rest of your life." Bending down to kiss her deeply, Anne left with a parting shot. "You're a complicated woman, Gwen Canaday. I hope someday I find someone I can love like you loved him. Goodnight." As Gwen lay there tossing and turning, listening to the sounds of unbridled passion from the bedroom next door, she mentally corrected Anne. "It's love, Anne, not loved." The flight back to Savannah was quiet for awhile, until Gwen started teasing her about the night before. "You must have destroyed that poor man. He practically crawled out the door this morning. You hot little bitch, you." Anne brightened. "Don't you know it. It's a good thing you didn't join us last night, he might have had a heart attack. I bet he hurts when he takes a leak for awhile." They both giggled before Anne turned serious. "What are you going to do now?" "Go back to Birmingham, resume my life. Stop and smile at the memories I made this weekend. Thank you, Anne." "I should and do thank you. This was the best adventure I've ever been on. The best resort, the best sex, the best everything. I could get used to this. If you ever want a kept bitch on the side, keep me in mind. I could be very submissive for the right woman." She was laughing as she said it, but in her heart she hoped it sparked an idea. She found herself in the most unusual situation of her life. She was in love with two people, and they were husband and wife. She was sure being a wife to both of them would be heaven. Putting away her daydreams she asked Gwen a favor. "If you and Hardy ever get back together, keep our little adventure a secret. Most men are uncomfortable if they know their woman is attracted to both sexes. It's hard enough to keep the male predators at bay, adding females to the mix is sometimes too much for them to handle." Gwen reflected. "You're right. and I'm not attracted to women. I'm attracted to you. And, I'm not ashamed of what we did. Best, though, if he never knows." "You know, not to give you false hope, but I know four couples who have divorced and remarried. If you want him, find a way to chase him. Show him the new you that took so much to build. Go slow, let him get used to you being around, and gradually move in. You've got an advantage, you know him better than anyone alive." Gwen reflected on that while the jet left Savannah, formulating a plan, vowing if this didn't work she would never try again. ................................................. She went back to her little apartment. Soon she would go house shopping, but right now she wanted the comfort of the familiar. She visited Aunt Daisy a lot, helping her with family research while Marcus was in school. She spent almost every Saturday with Joshua and Hildy, carefully not mentioning Hardy. They understood, but occasionally his name would pop up. Once she overheard the female cousins talking about Hardy and some woman named Bonnie. "How does he do it? First he marries a rich Yankee, now he's dating a state senator. What does he have that makes successful women swoon for him?" Gwen almost swooned herself, when she picked up a copy of the Sunday paper and saw the woman pictured in the paper at a fundraiser, Hardy standing at her side. "Local girl and now esteemed State Senator Bonnie Parker will be hosting a fundraiser for educational endowments in two weeks at the Country Club. Dinner, dancing, and a silent auction will be featured. Only twelve hundred tickets are available, so purchase them this week, before they're all gone." There was no mention of Hardy. She made sure she had two of the best seats in the house, dressed to the nines, with a date. He was the new a.d.a. brought in to replace her. Paul took her aside when she went to visit Karen and offered her a job. "What about the new guy?" "He's on probation, I can already tell he won't work out. He's, to put it politely, a pussy. Defense lawyers are running over him faster than fat people rushing a free buffet table. I couldn't get you to tutor him, could I?" She was bored and it seemed like a good idea. She became an unpaid 'consultant'. It didn't take her long to agree with Paul. He was a pussy. She held it as long as she could, dragged him into an interview room, and ate him up. "Grow some damn balls, Jerry, or you'll never make it past probation! These aren't nice people, they're mostly scum of the earth, and would rape and kill their momma if the payoff was worth it. Most are past rehabilitation, and it's your job to keep them off the street and away from decent people. Grow the fuck up and do your job! Otherwise, I hear real estate lawyers make a decent living." She stomped out of the room and slammed the door. Paul was standing in the hall smiling. "Still think you wouldn't make a good district attorney? Think about it, I plan on retiring at the end of my term, and the field would be wide open. The Escobar case would still be fresh in people's mind, and you're still a hero for standing up to the drug lords and getting him behind bars. Gotta go." He walked off, whistling. She stopped by Jerrys' cubicle the next day. "Jerry, I need a date Saturday. Dress in your best suit, get a haircut, and be waiting at seven. I'll pick you up. And Jerry, it doesn't mean anything, I just need a body for a few hours. You don't have a chance in hell of getting lucky, but the exposure would do you good in the community. You're not bad looking, and it may attract a few ladies. Don't disappoint me." He never got to say a word before she was gone. Karen was in the office when she came in and barely held it together until she left. She exploded in laughter. "Guess she told you. Better not disappoint her, her balls are a lot larger than yours. Here's a heads up. She's doing this because her ex husband is escorting the guest of honor, and she's still hung up on him. Be careful, he's one big mean sonofabitch, and he still has feelings for her." Boston to Birmingham Ch. 05 He rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, I can't wait. This is going to be a date from hell. Think I can get out of it?" "Not in the least, you're just arm candy. Smile, be attentive, stay in the background, and everything will be fine. Behave, and she might not make you get your own way home. Have fun." She was still laughing when she sat back down. Karen talked to Paul, and he got two pair of tickets, for him, his wife, Karen, and her husband, saying he wouldn't miss this show for anything. ................................................. Gwen made absolutely sure she was perfect. She had Jerry wait until the dinner was about to begin before entering, sweeping in just after everyone was seated, and passing the table of honor as she was directed to her table. He was there, with one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. This was a state senator? She had her hand on his arm, laughing quietly at something just said. He looked up and their eyes locked. Time seemed to slow down, and she stumbled slightly. Then they were by them and being seated. It was a miserable evening. She had a direct line of sight, and watched as she obviously flirted with him. "Bitch, why don't you just mount him on the table and fuck him in front of us." She thought as her hand clenched her wine glass so hard it cracked. Paul, Karen, and spouses were seated with her, and there was a minor scene as they checked her hand and replaced her glass. Hardy looked over, frowning slightly. Once again their eyes met and he raised his glass in salute. She refused to acknowledge him. "Well, aren't you Miss Mature this evening" said Karen, in a warning tone. "You wanted to be here, so behave. Making a scene won't make his memories of you any better." The advice calmed her. She made polite small talk, speaking to people at other tables, people she knew professionally. Aunt Daisy was there, attended by Marcus. People were so used to seeing them together it was almost expected. They raised their glasses in recognition, and she smiled brightly. The dinner out of the way, they sat through the inevitable round of speeches. The keynote speaker, one Bonnie Parker, made an impassioned plea for her charity. "Thank you for coming out tonight and supporting my cause. Everyone here is a professional in one field or another, think what your life would have been like without your education. Would you be as fulfilled? Would your family enjoy the same standard of living they have now? Knowledge is power. Take my escort this evening. By his own admission he came up hard, but he pulled himself together, got an education, and went on to be a lawyer with nationally recognized accomplishments. He had the good fortune to have a benefactor who funded his cause, getting justice for the poor and less fortunate. Not bad for a good ol' boy from Limestone County." "There must be more Hardy Wilkes in the world, let's help them achieve their dream. Now, the dancing is about to start. Enjoy the evening, bid on the items donated to our cause." She left the podium to thunderous applause, stopping to shake hands and exchange greetings with well wishers. Hardy stood and held her chair, earning him a kiss on the cheek. Gwen smouldered. It was a very nice combo, playing old classics, waltzes, fox trots, and an occasional Latin piece. Gwen was an excellent dancer, and her card was full. She saw Hardy from time to time, once with Aunt Daisy for a sedate waltz, once with Karen for an uptempo number. She never failed to understand how a man so large could be so graceful. But, most of his dances were taken by the esteemed senator. Gwen almost missed a step the first time she saw them dance. Then, during a break, she found herself in front of Hardy. He smiled and took her hand. "How are you, Gwen?" Stifling her inclination to say she was miserable, she told him she was fine. "Good, I'm glad to see you back. Do you intend to stay here?" "Yes, I have family I'm fond of, and to be honest, New England winters no longer have an appeal to me." "Good. I'm sure I'll see you, time to time." He was about to leave, when his date appeared. "Hardy, who is this lovely creature. Should I be watching you a bit closer?" She said it in a soft teasing voice, unaware of who Gwen was. "Bonnie, please let me introduce you to Miss Gwen..." He almost said Wilkes but corrected himself. "Canaday, of the Boston Canadays. Her dad is my boss." She her hand out. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Do you know Hardy well?" Gwen shook, smirking at Hardy, who was suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Oh, Hardy and I go way back. In fact, I can safely say no one has spent more time with him than I, until recently." "Really? You and I should talk. I'll tell you about his wild youth, and you can tell me about his sedate maturity. It should be fun." She fished a card out of her purse. "I'll be in town a few more days, political stuff you know. Call me at your leisure." Before she could reply, her handlers hustled her off to do more glad handing. Hardy gave her a small smile and followed her. Karen came up. "Cover your claws, dear. She and Hardy were kids together. There's history there you know nothing about. I don't think there's any romance there, at least on his part. She seems to like him a lot more than I remember, though." The band started, and everyone resumed dancing. She ran into J.T., Will Robb, and his wife Myrtle, and she danced with both the sheriff and the judge. It was the last set, and she could see Hardy talking to the band leader, slipping something into the palm of his hand. He stepped in front of a microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's almost time to call it a night. Give yourselves a round of applause for your support of this cause. We're going to do a few more, but by special request we're going to do this number now. All you lovers, married and single, here's your chance to shine." "Ladies and gentlemen, the tango." A quiet came over the crowd, and Hardy appeared at her side. "Would you allow me this dance, Gwen?" He held out her hand and she followed, not trusting her voice. They had taken dance lessons together just after they married. He said as much as he enjoyed watching her move, this was one particular dance he wanted her to share with none other. They had practiced it for hours, and danced it every chance they got. A few couples joined them, but soon dropped out. She was dipped, twirled, dragged. They spun away and into each other in almost perfect movements, as though bound by invisible strings. The band leader had been doing this for a long time, knew the impact of the dance, and signaled his group to keep playing. They were on the floor almost eight minutes before the music ended, and their bodies twined together for the last time. She was dipped, dangling in his arms like a feather. He righted her, kissed her cheek, and strode from the floor. The cheers and applause went on for several minutes as she stood alone, savoring the moment. Karen rescued her. "Damn girl, that was hot! It was like watching you make love with your clothes on, right there on the dance floor. It'll be awhile before anyone forgets this fundraiser." She sat in an exhausted daze while the band finished up. Then went to the ladies room to fix her appearance. She was washing her face when Bonnie came out of a stall. "Miss Canaday, your dance was beautiful. I've never seen such a physical expression of love. Hardy finally told me who you were. Dad told me he had been married, but I got the impression it was a local girl. I really would like to talk to you. You have my card, call." She never called. She was in such a good mood she took Jerry home. ................................................. Aunt Daisy helped her find a house close to hers, needless to say in a very old, upscale part of town. Huge lot, five bedroom throwback to the old South, complete with columns and a balcony facing a circular driveway. There was a three bedroom bungalow converted from the stables, and a housekeeper and a maintenance man living there. They had taken care of the house and grounds for fifteen years, and Gwen felt no need to replace them. It was a little spooky at first, rattling round late at night, but she came to ignore it. ................................................ It didn't stay empty long, she inherited a daughter. Maybe daughter wasn't the right word, she was only fourteen years younger, but definitely baby sister. And she filled a deep void in her life, she gave her someone to love. Hildy called her out of the blue. "Gwen Marie, How are you?" She had lived in the South long enough to know, when both your given names were used, you had either screwed up, done something particularly outstanding, or someone needed a favor. If they used all three names, you were in deep shit. "Fine, Aunt Hildy. You?" "I'm tolerable. How you like living in that big old house by yourself?" "It gets a little lonely sometimes, but I'm getting used to it." "That's kinda why I called. I need a kindness done." "Aunt Hildy, you know I'd do anything for you. What is it?" "Don't make promises too quick, girl. You remember Melissa Sue?" "Of course I do. She was one of the first cousins I met, that day you had me out for the first time. Is she in trouble?" "Not exactly. Her daddy died in a truck accident when she was seven, and to put it mildly, her momma is just plain triflin'. She ran off three weeks ago with some fella just as bad. Nobody has seem them since. Melissa Sue wasn't gonna tell, hopin' she'd come back, but somehow social services found out." "I'd take her in myself, she's not a bad girl considerin' her raising, but you know Joshua hasn't felt good since Ronnie thumped him on his head. I'm worried about him, bad. He can't farm anymore, we're livin' off his social security and the money Hardy gives us. It's more than enough to take care of us, but it galls Josh he has to take it. If one of the family doesn't take her in pretty quick they'll take her, and foster care will be her future. Can you help me?" "Where is she right now?" "The county got her in a group home. Its' got Joshua fretting bad." "It'll take me about three hours to get things done and get there. Stay calm, Aunt Hildy, and tell Joshua not to worry, I got her." "Stop by after you get done, you know how Joshua loves to see you. And Gwen Marie, it's good to have family like you around. Bye." She called Limestone County Social Services. They would let her go if they had authorization from the courts. She called Paul, and he smoothed the way with the local judge. "You better hurry, Social Services closes in two hours, and if they don't have the papers, she'll be there until Monday." She knew she would never make it, so gathering her strength she called Hardy. She skipped the small talk and went right to the point. "Hardy, they got little Melissa Sue in foster care, her momma ran off. I got a judge up there willing to give me an order saying I can take temporary custody, but if I don't get it filed before the offices close she'll be stuck there all weekend. Can you help me.? Hardy had more experience with foster care than he liked, so he jumped right in. "I'll handle it. Meet me at Grandpas', I'll have her there by the time you arrive." He could hear the relief in her voice. "Thank you." "Gwen, I need you to promise me, if it's family business and you need help, call me first. Promise me." "I do, honey, oops I mean Hardy. See you soon." When she got there, Melissa Sue was sitting on the front porch swing, looking lost and alone. Mothering instincts kicked in, and she sat beside her, rocking gently. Soon she felt her head on her shoulder, and she put her arm around her. Before long the tears were flowing, and Gwen held tighter, promising her things were going to get better, starting right now. She looked up to see Hardy watching them, and she could have sworn he had tears in his eyes. He turned abruptly and went back in. She had an epiphany, this could have been our daughter I'm holding, and her tears dripped into the younger girls' hair. They ate a quiet dinner. She could tell Joshua wasn't well and Aunt Hildy was worried. She managed to get Hardy on the porch for a short talk. "I'm worried about Joshua. Has he been to the doctor lately?" Hardy grunted. "The stubborn old coot won't let Hildy take him. I made an appointment for next week, told him I'd drag him there myself if he didn't go. He promised, but his heart isn't in it. Damn Ronnie!" Gwen had heard nothing about the Escobar meeting, the family had clammed up, but she knew there was now more than just dislike between Hardy and Ronnie now. Roy and his old crew were actively looking for him, but he had disappeared. After supper, she spent a little more time with Joshua, hugging and fussing over him. He complained, but you could tell he loved it. After a kiss and hug from everyone, including Hardy, she gathered up Melissa Sue. She didn't even have a suitcase, just two small garbage bags. After they got into her car, she asked if she needed to go get the rest of her things. Melissa Sue looked down. "This is all I have, Aunt Gwen. Do you have a washing machine? I didn't have money for laundry, and everything needs cleaned." Gwen was shocked. The poor girl had nothing! She thought back to her pampered childhood, and sighed. She made a vow that no matter where she ended up, the quality of her life was going to improve, drastically. She pulled into the parking lot of the local WalMart. It wasn't what she wanted, but it would do for now. "Come on, honey. I need to pick up a few things." The girl was shocked that she was the object of the shopping trip. "Just a few things right now, we'll get you a whole new wardrobe over the next little while." Melissa Sue objected, saying she shouldn't spend money on her. Gwen laughed. "Baby, your Auntie Gwen is loaded. I mean money hanging out of every pocket, you can't count that high, disgustingly rich. Don't worry, this will probably give me more pleasure than you." New underwear, two pair of jeans, two tops, two pajama sets, new sneakers. Then feminine products, hair mousse, shampoo and conditioner, skin cream. She held up a tube of lip gloss, looking at it longingly, before putting it down. Gwen had a feeling she didn't have a lot of experience with makeup. "Not that one, the color is all wrong for you. These two would probably work, and you need eyeliner, foundation, oh, never mind. I'll pick for now. You can decide which you like best later." The cart was getting full. They stopped last in the grocery section. "Pick out the snacks you want, but not too much junk." It was a good theory that went to hell pretty fast. Soda, popcorn, chips, ice cream. She did get a pack of yogurt and some fruit to ease her guilt. Melissa Sue was stunned at the total. She was even more stunned when she saw the house. "How many people live here?" "Counting you, two. Come help me unload and put the stuff away, and we'll pick out your bedroom." She picked the closest room to hers, still insecure. Gwen encouraged her. "Good, now we'll be close, and it has a bathroom. Two women in the same bathroom gets too crowded." She made sure she had her bath, brushed her teeth. She even tucked her in, normally a foolish thing to try with a fifteen year old, but she seemed to welcome it. She sat on the bed and talked for a few minutes, while Melissa held her hand with both of hers. Finally getting drowsy, Gwen eased her hand out of her grip, kissed her forehead, and turned out the lights. Standing in the hall, she tried to imagine this house full of kids. It made her feel warm for a minute, before reality crashed in. She was almost thirty, and was starting to hear the clock tick. How foolish she was for not wanting children! Now, the only man she wanted to give her children was no longer hers. It took awhile to fall asleep, she even got up and checked on Melissa twice, marveling at the sleep of the innocent. She woke with a start, to see Melissa sitting on her bed. "Good, you're awake! Mrs. Hendricks is fixing breakfast, she says you need to give her money for real food if a growing child is going to live here. Good morning Aunt Gwen!" She bent down to give her a kiss, and bounced out of the room. She lay there, enjoying the feeling. Mrs. Hendricks was her housekeeper, and had offered several times to cook for her, but being alone she told her not to bother. That had changed now, she wondered how else her lifestyle was going to change. Breakfast was interesting, with Melissa and Mrs. Hendricks chattering away. Gwen assured Mrs. Hendricks she would establish a household account and give her a debit card. "I'll get one for your husband too, that way he can get what he needs for his landscape project." She had gotten a really good deal on the house because of the economy and the condition of the house. It was sound, but it and the grounds had gotten run down. The owners paid for bare maintenance, but not for improvements. She saw him trying to revive a rose bush and asked him why he didn't just replace it. "No money." She asked him to come up with a landscape plan, including the installation of a pool, she always enjoyed swimming. He wanted to do most of the work on the grounds, but she talked him into a supervisory role, hiring and supervising the subcontractors. Mrs. Hendricks said it was the happiest she had seen him in years. After breakfast it was time for a serious talk. "Melissa, do you want to stay here?" She hung her head, thinking she was going to be asked to leave. "Yes ma'am, as long as you will have me." Gwen hugged her. "Good. In that case, we have to get you transferred here for school. Do you do well in school?" Melissa blushed furiously. "I like school, but momma had us moving around so much I ended up being held back for attendance." Gwen frowned at her mothers' callousness, but decided a little tutoring over the summer would bring her back to her rightful grade. "We'll go to your old school Monday, and get your records. I'm not sure what district we're in, but I'll know by then." She took a deep breath. I'm glad you want to stay, I want you to stay too. But if you live with me, there has to be some rules." "First, Mrs. Hendricks is our housekeeper, not a maid. I expect you to keep your room neat and tidy, and not cause her any grief." "I expect you to be in school when you're supposed to, and get good grades. If you need help, ask. If I can't do it I'll get someone who can." "I know you're gonna make new friends, and you can have them over and go to their houses, as long as I'm introduced to the parents and approve." "If they come here, they're your guests and I expect you to be responsible for them." "I not so old that I don't remember peer pressure, but if you do anything foolish, there will be consequences. I have my own commitments, so I may not always be home, and Mrs. Hendricks may not always be here, so I will depend on your word. Will you give it to me? Good." "Now, the big one. You're a very attractive young lady, and I expect boys will swarm around you like flies to honey. No boys in your room, ever. No boys when Mrs. Hendricks or I aren't around." "That being said, when you turn sixteen, you can go on dates, if I approve. Until then, you may go out with groups." "That's about it, think you can live with it?" "Yes ma'am." "Good, now, why don't you get familiar with the house and grounds while I make a few phone calls. Call your friends if you want." Boston to Birmingham Ch. 05 She had only one call to make. "Aunt Daisy, I need your help." She explained about Melissa, and how she wanted to make her life better. Daisy listened to her for about five minutes, before interrupting her. "I think I've got it. I'll be over in thirty minutes. Have her ready to go out." Without waiting for a reply she hung up. She found Melissa talking to Mr. Hendricks about flowers. "Honey, go freshen up. Your great aunt Daisy is coming by and wants to meet you." .................................................. Daisy showed up on time, with Marcus. She didn't get out. Marcus rang the bell, and told them they were expected in the car. Of course they were in his Cadillac. Daisy had Melissa sit in the back to 'get acquainted'. Gwen had no idea where they were going so she just decided to trust Aunt Daisy and spent the time talking to Marcus about history. He was lead intern on an excavation of a Civil War site, and was very excited about it. They stopped in a part of uptown Birmingham Gwen had been through but hardly noticed. "Why are we here?" "Clothes. The girl needs school clothes, and our family has been buying clothes here for six generations." It was a small shop, but Gen realized they were in the hands of experts and relaxed. They measured Melissa from head to toe, making notes. When they were done they brought out a small selection of dresses they thought would be appropriate. Gwen, who had been dressed by some of the top designers in the world, was awed by the craftsmanship. Daisy picked four without consulting Gwen or Melissa. She took Melissa by the hand. Now, child, I've picked out the basics, you pick three more." It took another hour of fittings and lively discussion before she had another three. Daisy stood abruptly. "Time to go. We got other people to visit." Melissa was shocked. "Aren't we going to take the dresses?" Daisy laughed at her confusion. "No, they'll be delivered later. They have to be tailored to your exact measurements. If your weight is going to change, make sure you lose instead of gain, it's easier to take in than let out." Nothing was said about payment, so Gwen decided to ask Daisy later. Marcus was dozing in the car, saying he would feel more comfortable in a cave filled with rattlers than a dress shop. They left him, walking three doors down. It was a shoe store, and they spent ninety minutes picking out four pair, two flats, two with one inch heels. The colors coordinated with the dresses. Daisy said anything higher on a young girl looked cheap, except for formal occasions. Once again, payment was never discussed. On the way to yet another shop, Melissa worked up the nerve to ask Aunt Daisy why she needed so many dresses. "Because the dress code at Pleasant Hill Academy states that you can only wear slacks on Friday, the rest of the week is dresses or skirts only. And slacks means slacks, not jeans." Melissa and Gwen were stunned. Everybody who was anybody in the state wanted their children to attend Pleasant Hill, but the waiting list was three years long. The place was practically a leadership factory for the South. "Aunt Daisy, how are we going to get Melissa in Pleasant Hill, you know how long the waiting list is?" "I'm the principal financial donor, you have no idea how expensive it is to run. If it weren't for alumni support, it would have closed years ago. Our family has been attending the school since it opened. I never thought I would get to see another family member attend, you have no idea how much it means to me." "Shouldn't we ask Melissa if she wants to go there?" Daisy snorted. "Your generation, too soft on your children! But let's ask her, see if she's willing to crush the heart of an old lady and blow the opportunity of a lifetime. Melissa Sue Wilkes, would you like to attend Pleasant Hill?" Melissa had her head down, and her answer was barely audible. "Yes." Daisy tapped her cane. "Speak up child, old ears aren't as good as they used to be." "I'd love to go to Pleasant Hill, Aunt Daisy, but I'm just a little redneck girl with no manners. What if I don't fit in? What if they're mean to me? What if they make fun of me?" Daisy gave her a severe look. "No one will make fun of you or be mean for long. You've got Howe blood and money behind you, Canaday money behind you, and if we have to pull out a big stick, we've got Hardy Wilkes behind you. Nobody is dumb enough to buck that combination for long. Now, give your old aunt a thank you kiss." Melissa kissed her cheek and held her hand the rest of the way home, talking quietly and listening intently. When they arrived home. Daisy gave Gwen and Melissa both orders. Melissa was to visit Daisy twice a week for instruction in the proper behavior of a Southern lady, and Gwen was to be there for at least one session a week. "You've got pretty decent manners when your Yankee upbringing doesn't get in the way, this will just fine tune the details. Now that I got the important wardrobe items out of the way, she needs normal teen casual clothes. Nothing too trashy or revealing, remember who you represent, girl! You two can bond over that. Now, give me a kiss and hug, and I'll see you soon." When she left Gwen apologized to Melissa. "I'm sorry, baby. I just wanted a little advice, I didn't mean for her to take over your life." Melissa looked at her like she was crazy. "Are you kidding? I just got a whole wardrobe of custom tailored clothes, a guarantee into the most exclusive school in the South, and hopefully the love and backing of probably the two richest women in the state. The luckiest day of my life was when I met you. Thank you. I'll do my best to make you proud." The hug was intense, Melissa was trying to put love and gratitude into every cell. "Well," she grinned, "what are we gonna do the rest of the weekend?" Gwen had been thinking about it. The first thing they did was take the Hendricks to a car dealership, after asking if they had a brand preference. Mr. Hendricks liked Chevrolet, so the stopped there first. When they left, he was driving a three quarter ton pickup, his 'company truck'. Mrs. Hendricks had always admired her sisters' Dodge van, so they went there and bought a top of the line Town and Country. She could use it to take Melissa places when she wasn't available. Then, they tried out four wheel drive SUVs until she settled on a Range Rover. She had purchased her beloved little Focus, and she secretly thought it would make a great starter car for a teenage girl. ................................................ They managed to go to some upscale department stores for her 'casual' clothes, and she started to wonder if she could use another closet. All the clothes she had owned her whole life didn't add up the volume she had now. Gwen took her to a salon to have her ends trimmed and hair conditioned. They also got manicures and pedicures while they were there, a first for Melissa. Sunday night Gwen heard noises from her room and went to check on her. She was lying across the bed, crying. She rushed to her side. "what's wrong, baby?" She sniffled. "I'm afraid. Afraid this is just a dream, and I'll wake up in my old trailer. Afraid if I wake up and I'm still here no one will like me at school. I wasn't raised rich, I won't know how to act." "Honey, honey, it is a dream, but it's mine. You'll do just fine. Remember, you're representing two of the oldest families in the state, Wilkes and Howe, and their blood runs in your veins. I've read a lot of history on both sides, and cowardice doesn't seem to run in the family. Now, go to sleep, I want you rested for tomorrow." ............................................... She was escorted to school the next day by both Daisy and Gwen, and the headmaster all but threw roses in front of them as they walked. "I can't believe it, a Howe back in Pleasant Hill, order is restored to the universe!" They reviewed her academic records, and it was agreed she would spend half the day in regular classes, half being tutored privately, to get her back in the right grade for next year. She proved to be bright, willing to work hard, and goal oriented. Her biggest fear was disappointing Aunt Daisy and Aunt Gwen. She cautiously made friends. Aunt Daisy had developed her self confidence by taking her out to meet her friends, many of whom were grandparents or great grandparents of her classmates. She actually met some of her schoolmates at their homes. Melissa was an intelligent child, and the old maxim about being silent and thought a fool versus opening your mouth and removing all doubt stood her in good stead. She said little at first, watching and learning. Soon she had a circle of friends and was doing very well. The fact that everyone knew how much money and power was backing her, and that she was just plain 'hot', helped considerably. After a few months, Gwen hired a private investigator and tracked down her mother in Florida. She appeared at her trailer door one day and gave her a choice, sign over permanent custody or come back to Alabama and be prosecuted for felony child endangerment and abuse. If she signed, a small cash exchange would take place. Her mother remembered her as an a.d.a., and quickly signed. Before Gwen left she gave her a picture of Melissa, and one of her in a group at Pleasant Hill. "She has a good life now. If she wants to see you I won't stop her, but I will watch you like a hawk. Here's her cell number." As far as she knew she never called. Right after Thanksgiving she asked her if she'd like to see her mother. Melissa didn't even look up from her homework. "I see my mother every day." Gwen barely made it back to her bedroom before the tears started. When she settled down she took Melissa out and bought her a top of the line smart phone with matching tablet. One unexpected side effect for Gwen from Melissa moving in was her father. He loved her, and visited a lot more often now that she had the big house. He even took her to Boston for a holiday. She came home with a paper, showing them together at a charity event. The byline identified them as Greg Canaday, with granddaughter Melissa Sue Wilkes. She framed it and hung it in her room, and from that day forward he was grandfather. He saw Hardy from time to time, mostly for business. He was thinking about opening his own office, and Greg talked him out of it. "You've got a good life. Why try to fix something that's not broke." Hardy didn't have a good life. He had family, he had friends, but he was alone. He had finally filed the divorce, when Gwen got the final notice she cried for two days. He could never seem to find anybody that measured up to what he had with Gwen, and he had pretty much stopped looking. Gwen finally starting dating again, even allowing one man into her bedroom while Melissa was on a sleepover. Other than physical relief, she felt nothing. They both wandered aimlessly through life until, as usual, cataclysmic events threw them together again. .................................................. Gwen was sound asleep when Melissa burst into her room crying. She immediately hugged her. "What is it? What's wrong?" "Grandpa Hardy had a heart attack. Aunt Hildy called, she must have dialed my number by mistake. They're airlifting him here, he should be arriving soon." They were up and dressed in a flash, breaking speed limits to get to the hospital. Hildy was there, practically in hysterics. She clung to her like a drowning person. It was five minutes before she could understand her. They were having a hard time getting him admitted because he was on Medicare. The bulldog negotiator in her surfaced with a vengeance as she literally charged the desk. "You've got my grandfather here. What's this bullshit about admissions? Never mind, here." She took a checkbook out of her pocketbook and signed one, handing it to her. "Fill in the blanks later. I want the best, top of the line, you hear me? If I find out he didn't get the best care possible, I'll pop so many lawsuits on you this hospital will go under." A deep voice spoke from right behind her. "And when she gets done, I'll start. Now get your ass in gear!" She turned and buried her head in Hardys' chest, sobbing. He gently stroked her hair and back. "It's all right baby. We'll get him the best care possible. Now, can you go help Aunt Hildy settle down? I think she has Melissa Sue scared to death." Joshua had triple bypass surgery four hours later, as soon as the team of specialist were flown in. So many relatives showed up they almost had police direct traffic, and filled waiting rooms on every floor. The staff marveled how a simple old man could be so loved. Gwen was shocked to find out he was eighty one, she thought he was much younger. He asked to see Hildy, Gwen, and Hardy before surgery. "I wanted to make sure I talk to you , just in case. Hildy, you were the daughter I lost, I don't know why you chose to stay with a grumpy old man, but thank you. I love you very dearly." Hildy collapsed, it was the first time in all the years they were together he ever told her he loved her. "Gwen, if any one ever told me my favorite granddaughter would be a Yankee, I would have laughed. But you are, and you've become very important to me. I love you." Gwen let loose with her own torrent of tears. "Hardy, son, I'm proud of you. I tried to teach you right, and more than once it didn't take, but you turned out just fine." Hardy has his own tears. "Now, just in case I don't make it, Hardy, Gwen, I need to tell you something." "You guys are idiots! I've never seen two people more in love, more foolish in my life. You love each other, you're miserable alone. Why else haven't you guys remarried? I won't be vain enough to try to get you to make promises to an old man who might be about to die, but think about it. I hope I live long enough to say 'I told you so ' when you remarry. There! I've said what the whole family has been thinking since you both moved down here. Now, let me get a little rest before they gut me like a deer." They were silent when they left, looking at each other with unspoken questions and hope. Joshua survived, but was in the hospital for an extended time due to infection. Gwen and Hardy spent as much time as possible with him. They started eating dinner together, keeping conversation to safe topics, Melissa Sue, Joshua, Hildy, the family. Hardy likened the time to kissing a porcupine. Going very slowly, avoiding the quills. Gwen was hopeful, Melissa even teased her about getting a new dad. Weekends at the farm became the norm, where Gwen assumed the role of Hildy while she was at the hospital. ................................................. Hardy was starting to smile more. He started looking forward to evenings with Gwen. Josh would grin and tell them to spend time with each other instead of a stubborn old man. Gwen teased back when Hardy wasn't around, telling him he might just live long enough to say I told you so. Crystal Anne had finally given up on Hardy, and had started dating a fine young man her age, a state trooper. She had dropped some forms by his house, and was getting her pistol, a Charter Arms thirty eight, a five shot revolver she could easily slip in her purse, out of his gun safe. Hardy bought it for her when she moved into he own apartment, taught her how to use it, and she turned out to be a pretty good shot. She and her boy friend were going to the gun range. The doorbell rang and he called out to Crystal, telling her her beau was here. "Don't out shoot him, girl. He'll never live it down." He opened the door to come face to face with Ronnie Wilkes. He looked terrible, dirty, malnourished, wild eyed. That he was on drugs was a given. He had dropped out of sight for awhile, taking the money Don Vincente had given him and hiding in Mobile. He started doing drugs to ease the bitterness he felt and before he knew it was hooked. He fumed and obsessed over Hardy, blaming him for all his problems. When the money ran out he did strong arm robberies, picking on the old and the weak. The police were starting to look for him when an old man wouldn't let go of his wallet and he hit him a little too hard. The old man died on the street. He had to get out of town, so he knocked off a drug dealer and boosted his car, taking his drugs, money, and a nine millimeter he found in the dash. The first thought Hardy had was to warn Crystal, but before he could speak, Ronnie fired into his body four times. Hardy fell to the floor, and Ronnie took deliberate aim at his head. Crystal had rushed to the living room after hearing the shots, and took everything in at a glance. She didn't hesitate, didn't aim, just raised her pistol and fired. She missed, but not by much. The bullet left a burn across his arm. He ran from the house. Crystal didn't chase him, dropping to the floor beside Hardy, screaming. Flipping out her phone she called 911, and her boyfriend. He was almost to the house when the car went flying by him. He called it in while he parked. Crystal had blood all over her as she tried to stop the flow. He knew he was looking at a dead man. ............................................... But he lived, barely. Air lifted to the same hospital Josh was in. Gwen heard the chopper, she was used to it by now. She glanced at the clock, Hardy was late and hadn't called. She went down to the main lobby to wait on him. She heard the nurses chattering as she passed their station. "I heard they don't expect him to make it, he's lost a lot of blood. Said he'd been shot like a dozen times" "If anybody can make it he can. That's the toughest man I ever saw. Somebody needs to tell his ex wife, they're always in here about now to see his grandpa, that grouchy old man in 412." Time slowed as she turned back to the desk. One of the nurses saw her and clapped her hand over her mouth. Gwen twirled and ran to the emergency room. They could hear her screaming down the hallways as she ran. She got there just as they wheeled him in. Despite their best efforts, blood was seeping around the bandages. She bowled over two paramedics and an orderly, fighting savagely to get to the gurney. He was still, motionless, even he blond hair seemed listless. For one brief second she thought he was already dead, but his hand fluttered like he was reaching for something. She immediately latched onto it, refusing to let go. He was trying to say something. They hadn't restrained his arms, and he pulled out the ventilator. His eyes were open, but he wasn't seeing. Blood was frothing on his lips, one bullet had punctured a lung. "Tell Gwen.............tell............." He lapsed into oblivion. Gwen remembered screaming she loved him over and over until she became incoherent. She felt a prick, and collapsed. Awareness found her in a bed, strapped down. Hildy, Daisy, Melissa, and countless relatives were clustered round the room and halls. "WHERE'S HARDY?" she screamed, struggling with her restraints. Hildy and Daisy went to her side, trying to sooth her. "Calm down, child. He's in surgery, will be for awhile." "How long have I been out?" "Three hours, they had to sedate you to treat Hardy." She started trying to get them to remove the restraints. "Compose yourself, you're not doing anybody any good strapped down. Your young'un is scared to death, look at her. Now, be strong, be calm, and they'll let you go." "You have to promise not to try to get to Hardy, he won't know you're there, and you'd just fret yourself needlessly." "Go see Grandpa Hardy, I'm sure he's wondering why neither one of you has been there." Boston to Birmingham Ch. 05 It took an hour, but she became rational again. Her training helped her tremendously when she went to see Josh, apologizing for the lateness, saying Hardy had been called out of town on a case, and Melissa had an emergency at school. Joshua could see she was upset. "Don't worry, girl. Hardy will be back soon, you can count on it. Listen, there's been something I've been wanting to tell you. I made a will. I didn't use either one of you because it was a surprise. I want you to have the farm, on the condition that Hildy can live there and you take care of her as long as you live. Also in my will, although I can't enforce it, is that you name your first son Joshua Hardy Wilkes. Will you do that?" That started a fresh round of tears, and a solemn promise she would do everything in her power to honor his request. ............................................... Hardy had a collapsed lung, lost a kidney, one bullet broke two ribs, another clipped his small intestines and they had to shorten it four inches. They didn't realize it until they washed the blood off, but another bullet had chipped the top of his left hipbone. Despite all these wounds, he survived. He was in a coma for six days. Gwen, Daisy, Hildy, Greg[he came immediately when she called], and even Roy took turns watching over him and Joshua. For the first time, every bedroom in her house was full. Mrs. Hendricks was in heaven taking care of everyone. A massive manhunt was launched for Ronnie Wilkes, but he dropped off the face of the earth. When Hardy was finally awake and coherent, the first thing he did was beg Roy to watch over Gwen and Joshua. Roy grinned, leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Don't concern yourself about Ronnie, cousin. I have it on good authority, to quote our Northern counterparts, that tonight he 'sleeps with the catfish'." Hardy smiled and shook his hand. When he became conscious Gwen never left his side except to shower and sleep occasionally. He fussed but she just smiled. "Oh no. I've got you, you can't get up and leave, and you can't physically throw me out. You can try to ignore me, but you've lived with me long enough to know that'll never work." "No Hardy, I'm going to do something I've wanted to do for a long time. Find out who you really are. Not the stories, not the bullshit, not the evasions." "You can fight me if you want, but you can't go anywhere for a while, and I'm not leaving. If you try to throw me out I'll bribe the nurses. Give me too much shit and I'll have you declared incompetent due to medical conditions and move you into my house. So give." "Maybe I'll hear so much negative stuff I'll leave you alone forever, but I doubt it." He sighed, hit the button that boosted his pain medication, and went to sleep. She was there when he woke up. .................................................. A week went by. Finally he caved slightly. "Ask me one thing a week, and I'll answer." "Did you really do all the things they said you did before you went into the Marines?" The laugh was long and mirthless. "If I had done everything that was attributed to me, I would have had to started when I was ten." "Then why did you take credit?" "I didn't. I just didn't deny it either. Do you know the first rule of terrorism?" She shook her head. "Kill one, scare ten thousand. If people thought I was bad, I was. It worked out, the really bad guys stayed in the background, and the cops couldn't prove anything because I never actually did it. People feared me, and they left me alone. Don't get me wrong, I did bad things, but I was never much into inflicting pain, so sometimes just the hint I might do something brought them around." "But I've seen you fight, you're pretty good at it. Where did you learn that stuff?" "My dad had a friend, a guy from the Philippines, one of the smaller islands. He was in jail with him for awhile. He was five feet tall and probably weighed a hundred pounds, but he was the scariest man I ever saw. People in prison steered clear of him." "He was an expert in Kali and Dumong, two of their martial art styles. He took a shine to me and taught me a lot. He was a lonely man, and my family was good to him. Grandpa let him live and work on the farm for awhile." "One thing about their martial arts, there was no show in them. Every move was designed to kill or incapacitate, and their weapon and knife work was a true art form." "That's why everyone thought I was so vicious, because of my fighting style. Luckily, I never killed anybody, but I did break a few legs and arms." Another week went by, and he thought he might get released. "Did you really beat up your sister and brother? And did you kill her lover?" "Yes, yes, and no." "You know more than anyone how I feel about cheaters, and I was really immature at the time. I didn't really beat her up, but I did slap her around." "I beat the shit out her lover, though. And the only reason I beat up my brother was because he jumped me, blindsided me one night. I thumped him pretty good for that. He was ashamed to let people know he jumped me from behind and I still beat him up, so he told my sister I was going to kill him and they moved." "Why didn't you tell anybody the truth?" "Remember, the rule of terrorism. If people thought I would do that to my own family, what would I do to them, strangers mostly." "So what happened with her lover?" "He tried the same thing my brother did, only he used a bat, fractured my arm. I still nearly killed him, and told him the next time I saw him I would. He left that night, didn't even pick up his clothes. His car was being repossessed, so he left it. I took an old jacket he had left, and dropped it way out in the country by a pond. That's how that rumor got spread." "Don't you miss your sister?" He went silent for a while. "Yes, she was pretty much all the family I had except for Grandpa, and we were close as only siblings who had endured great personal trauma can be. I hear she has three kids now, one in her teens." "Why didn't you try to make peace with her?" "We parted on pretty rough terms. She called me after they left, chewed me out pretty good, said she was ashamed to be my sister, and some more pretty rough stuff. I thought it best to leave her alone." "Do you know everybody in the family thinks your banished her, and she's afraid to come home?" He bristled. "She could come home anytime she wants. I would never hurt her again. It's that asshole husband of hers that keeps her from coming." The emotional conversation was tiring him, and they stopped for the evening. ................................................ Joshua gave Gwen the number for his sister, and she called the next morning. It was an emotional conversation, especially when she heard about the medical conditions of both. "Would you please come and see them? I can say for a fact it would do them both a world of good." "I'd love to, but I don't have the money for gas, even if my old car would make it." "Does your husband have a car?" There was a bitter laugh. "I'm sure he does. The problem is I don't know where it or he is. He left me almost two years ago. Haven't seen him since." "Things have changed since the last time you talked to the family. You got some rich relatives now. There will be a rental car in your name in Asheville by ten tomorrow. It will be gassed up and ready to go. Can your car make it that far?" "I think so, but I still won't have traveling money." "There will be a debit card at the desk along with the keys. It will have twenty five hundred on it. That should cover meals and gas, shouldn't it? Please, it would mean a lot to us." "I guess I could, but...." "Oh, be sure all the kids come. If there's one thing we love, it's more cousins. See you tomorrow night." She wondered where she was going to put them, her house was actually full. Aunt Daisy came to the rescue. "I've got nine empty bedrooms. It'll be good to hear children in the house again." Peggy Wilkes Smith and family were overwhelmed when they arrived. Introductions were made that they were sure they would never remember. Gwen and Daisy took them in hand, taking them to dine before settling them in. Thirteen year old Peggy Jr and Melissa hit it off, so they decided 'little Peg' would share her bedroom. Greg was amazed when he saw her, she looked like a smaller version of Melissa. "Damn, those Wilkes genes sure make pretty girls, too bad about the boys." Little Peg blushed furiously, but loved the compliment. She was enthralled when Melissa told her he was her great uncle. "He's a Yankee, but don't hold that against him. He's like super rich, so suck up to him, girl! And he's also full of bull, you'll see, we got some fine looking men in our family, wait 'til you meet your uncle, kinda makes you sorry you're related to them." "Melissa Sue Wilkes!" said Greg and Gwen at the same time, but it was too late, she was pulling her cousin along towards her bedroom and sticking her tongue out at the same time. They grinned at each other. "You've spoiled her too much" said Gwen. "Like mother like daughter", he shot back. It was true, Gwen had officially adopted Melissa two months ago. It was one of the best days of her life. She and Melissa cried almost the whole day, smiling through the tears. They let Peggy go in alone the next day, without introduction. She stayed for two hours before she came back out. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she was smiling, looking at peace for the first time since she arrived. Gwen went in, to see Hardy with his head bowed, looking exhausted. She hugged him, softly, stroking his hair. He took her hands, kissing them gently, a gesture she remembered well. It was of his most intimate touches. "Thank for this, honey." Honey? He called her HONEY, for the first time in almost three years. Her own tears came as she nuzzled his hair. He was coming back to her, she just knew it. ................................................ Hardy left the hospital for a month in a rehab clinic. His muscle tone was almost completely gone, and the struggle to return to normalcy was horrendous. He learned to live with pain all over again. While he was there he had three surprise visitors. Major Stein, Rabbi Bill, and Captain Anne Burnside. They shook, commented on how each other looked. "You look like shit, Hardy. You seriously need to develop new hobbies. If you were a cat, you'd be on your tenth life by now." Major Stein smiled as he said it. Bill added a few comments of his own, also in the same vein. Then they got serious. Captain Burnside, a little privacy, please. Why don't you take his companion for coffee?" "Yes sir." She spun on her heel and left the room. "Miss Canaday, would you accompany me please?" They stopped by the restroom on the way out. Once they made sure they were alone, they embraced and shared a kiss. "Anne! It's so good to see you. Why are you here?" "Officially, I'm the new adjutant to Major Stein. Unofficially, I was dying to see you. How are you, baby girl?" "I'm doing great. I'm a mother now, did you know?" "Really? When did that happen?" "About a year ago. Wanna see pictures?" By now they had entered the coffee shop and given their orders. Once seated, she opened her purse and took out a picture of Melissa. Anne looked at the attractive young girl. "Wow, what's in the water down here? She's gorgeous! How old is this girl?" "Seventeen, they grow up so fast, don't they?" Gwen giggled. "Stepdaughter? Her dad must be a hunk." "No, full daughter, adopted. Her dad died when she was young, and her mother abandoned her. I kinda got her by default, but it worked out great." "No man then? I kind of hoped you would have given me a call." Gwen took her hands. "What we did was special, beautiful, but it was a once in a lifetime experience. I'm glad I did it, glad it was with you. But there is a man in my life now, and it's getting more serious everyday." "Who? What's he like? Is he handsome, rich, is he in love with you?" "Yes, yes, and I think so. We've both just gotten over a failed marriage, so we're taking it slow." "Does mystery man have a name?" "Yes. His name is Hardy Wilkes." Annes' hand flew to her mouth. "Really?" "Yes, really. We haven't told each other yet, but it's coming, soon, I think." "I'm so happy, give me details." She filled her in on her life since she last saw her. "Wow, why can't my life be like that!" "It hasn't been candles and soft music. It was rough. I gave up, a couple of times, but I couldn't let go. I have great hopes for the future." They were gone over half an hour. The major was frowning. "Sorry, sir. Long line." "It's all right. We're done here." Major Stein shook his hand. "Hardy, have a great life. Our sessions are over, but if you feel a need, call me." "Miss Canaday, a minute of your time? We can talk while we go back to the car." He got halfway there, when he stopped. "Damn, forgot my briefcase. Will you get it for me, Captain? Good. Give us about five minutes, would you?" "Yes, sir." She knew he was giving her an excuse to talk to Hardy. She hugged him, hard as she felt he could handle. Gave him a fierce kiss. "It is so good to see you, Hardy. I'm glad you're still alive. I've missed you." "Anne, I've thought of you often. Is your life good?" She shrugged. "You know, married to the Army. Six and a half more years. Then I'm going hunting. My soulmate is out there somewhere. Just my luck, I had two good candidates, but they're already married." Hardy grinned. "If they're married to each other, you should seduce them both. Think of the possibilities." She had never told Hardy she was bi, so she laughed it off. "Not likely, they've got a bad case of tunnel vision. They can only see their mates. My time is up, I have to go. If I never see you again, I hope you get the happiness you deserve. Remember me fondly, as I will you." It took her a few minutes to clear her eyes. ................................................. Finally, he was a functioning human being. He had caved to Gwen and Greg to stay with them, to make it easier to get to his outpatient therapy appointments he said. He wasn't up to driving, so they alternated taking him. Gwen used her time in the car to continue her questioning. "Did you really take a couple of hookers away from Big Daddy?" "Yes, but not for the reason you think. I took them to piss him off and teach him a lesson. He had been easing into my business, trying to branch out. I wanted him to know what it felt like when someone started messing with his livelihood." "I helped one out once, got an abusive john away from her. He was beating her pretty bad. Big Daddy beat her when the john complained." "She got wind he was going to roll over on a couple of cousins, take their business while they were in jail. She took a big chance by telling me." "His plan didn't work, and he put her in the hospital. I thought that was a good idea, so I put him in the hospital. She got out before he did, so I took her and his best earner and got them where he couldn't get to them." "Were they grateful?" The beat up one was, the other not so much, she didn't like how I treated them." "Did you make them work for you?" "No, I locked them in rooms for four weeks. He had hooked them on drugs to control them. It was cold turkey from hell. I had them way out in the country, nobody could hear them, so I just let them scream. On the fourth week I took them to Doc Thomas for physicals, both had mild VD, and he cleared it up for them." "What happened to them?" "I took them to Montgomery, got them a place to stay, gave them some money. Told them to have a good life and not make the same mistakes." "Did they listen?" "One did, the one that got beat up. The other showed up a month later, and was back with Homer in two weeks. Some people you just can't help." "The other showed up a week after that, said she was lonely. She stayed with me for about a year, before meeting the man she married and moving to Mobile. They got four kids now. She told him early on what she used to do, and he said he was glad to know he wasn't the only one who wasn't perfect. She fell in love on the spot." ............................................ The next time they were in the car, she asked him a question that had bothered her for years. "Tell me the story of you and Crystal Anne." He surprised her. "No." "What?" "I said no. You want to know that bad, get her to tell you." Screwing up her courage, she called her. "Crystal, Gwen here. Would you have lunch with me? It's about Hardy, and he knows I was going to call you." Crystal seemed reluctant. "All right, but the first time you bad mouth him, I'm gone." "It's not about him, It's about you and him. Please?" "One o'clock, be there, the Gin. Don't be late or I'm gone." The Gin was at one time a working cotton gin. When cotton gave way to synthetic fabrics, it went empty for years. It was almost derelict when a chef got the building for almost nothing as part of a downtown revitalization project. Stark brick walls, uneven wooden floors, the place stayed packed. Gwen was twenty minutes early, but still only beat Crystal by about five minutes. There was no small talk, they ordered and ate in silence. Gwen pushed her plate away, finally, too nervous to eat. "Thank you for coming." Crystal was not going to be easy on her. "I didn't come for you, I came for Hardy. I called him, and he said to tell you anything you wanted to know. What do you want?" "Everything. How you met, how long have you known each other, anything you want to tell me." "Cut to the chase. You want to know if I've ever screwed him, don't you?" Gwen was embarrassed but shook her head yes. "Short answer? No. Not ever, and look at me, I'm just as hot as you are. Why? Because he loves me." "Not like he ever loved you, I became his baby sister, and I could never get him to change his mind." "While you were growing up with a platinum spoon in your mouth and doting parents, I was growing up in the projects with an alcoholic mother." "Things were bad but tolerable, until these sprouted out." She hefted her breasts, causing the man at the next table to choke on his tea. "Suddenly I wasn't just the ragged kid the guys had to put up with to score with my mom, I was fresh meat. The fact that I was thirteen didn't bother them a bit, and when I complained to my mom, she said I had to learn sometime." "My older brother ran with Hardy some back then, so I knew who he was. My brother kept the guys at bay while he was around, but in a fit of stupidity decided to rob a store alone. The clerk pulled his own pistol, and when the smoke cleared he had a bullet hole in his leg and guaranteed place of residence for the next six years." "One guy in particular was coming on to me hard every time mom passed out, and I knew one day he wouldn't stop with a few gropes." "I knew Hardy had taken some whores away from Big Daddy, so I decided if I had to do it anyway, I might as well make some money at it." "I cleaned up the best I could and went to see him. He remembered me, talked about my brother for a bit, then asked if he could do anything for me." "That was when I hit him with my big plan to be his newest source of income, promising I would do whatever and whoever he wanted to, if he would just keep me safe." "I'll never forget the look on his face. It went from happy and smiling to a look that would freeze water. He got the whole story from me, my drunk mom, her grabby boyfriends, my whole miserable life." Boston to Birmingham Ch. 05 "He left me sitting there with orders not to move. He came back with a woman and told her to take me shopping. We got jeans, tops, sneakers, a whole new wardrobe. I asked the lady when were we going to get my whore clothes, and she just smiled." "I did get to pick out one little sundress and some sandals. I looked at myself and thought I really looked mature. She let me wear it back to his place." She stopped for a glass of water and to dry her eyes. "When we got back, he asked her if she had gotten what he asked for. She just nodded." "He looked me up and down, asking if I liked my new clothes. I said yes, of course, what woman doesn't like new clothes." "Did you get new underwear too? he asked. I just nodded yes." "Let me see them, he said. I was shocked. Up until now I hadn't really thought about what I was going to have to do. I had heard stories, I knew he was about to 'break me in'. But I was determined, and slowly slid my dress up, trying to give him a show, thinking he might go easier on me. I had on bikini panties, the first pair I had ever owned." "He let me get the dress up to my waist when he grabbed me. I was looking down in shame and didn't see him move." "Before I could move or think, he had me face down over his lap, and proceeded to beat the hell out of me. You know how big his hands are, it wasn't long until my little ass felt like it was on fire, and he never let up. I was begging, screaming, promising I'd do anything he wanted if he would just stop." "He shoved me off of his lap, and I fell to the floor crying. He picked me up, put me in the chair, got right in my face, and told me if he ever heard me saying shit as stupid as the idea I came to him with again, that what just happened would feel like a kiss." "Then he and the woman, I never got her name, put me and my new stuff in the car and took me to Aunt Hildy and Grandpa Joshua. He got my school changed, gave them money every week to support me, and saw me as often as he could. Even after he went into the military, he sent half his pay home every month." "I heard he went to visit my mother. I don't know what he said to her, but she didn't offer the first argument about me not coming home. And the guy who kept groping me? He broke all the fingers on one hand." "Aunt Hildy and grandpa finished raising me, and when I graduated Hardy paid for my schooling. I decided I would become a paralegal and go to work for him so I could stay close. I love that man with every fiber in my body, but all he sees when he looks at me is a silly thirteen year old." "There, now you know. One more thing, I hated you for taking him, hated you even more for breaking his heart." "But I've watched you. You've changed, grown up, I guess. He's never stopped loving you, and I know you and he are spending time together. Just know, break his heart again, and he isn't the only one who knows where isolated ponds are located. Thanks for lunch." She strode out without a backwards glance. ............................................... Four days later they were sitting by the pool. It was the only thing she had changed about the grounds. She put it in when she thought she was going to live there alone, and had a large privacy fence put up, intending to sunbathe nude. Of course, right after she became an instant parent, she had to limit those times to when Melissa was in school. Melissa and her friends loved the pool, and once or twice during the week and practically every weekend it would be packed with screaming giggling teenagers. She only allowed boys on the weekend, and only when she could stay with them. There was always a crowd. Melissa and most of her friends were pretty so she could see the reasons the boys were there, but once one of her friends told her the boys were there to see her as much as them, she stopped wearing her traditional bikini and got a few conservative one piece suits. They still ogled her, and it gave a small thrill sometimes to see the effect she had on them. Hardy spent a lot of time in the pool, the low impact exercise did him a lot of good. He tended to stay away on the weekends, despite the pleas of Gwen and Melissa. His body, already scarred, was not even worse, new bullet holes and surgery scars prominent. He once joked with Greg if the schools wanted to scare kids straight, the should show a picture of him from the neck down. He let her rub lotion on his back, and she went slowly, enjoying the touch. Finally he had enough, turning and leaning back in the lounge chair. She was enjoying the moment, lying with her eyes closed, hoping he was watching her behind those sunglasses. When they were alone, which happened less and less these days, she wore her tiniest suits. At first she knew it made him uncomfortable, and teased him, asking why he seemed embarrassed. "You've seen my body countless times. Why should it bother you now?" He had on his sunglasses so she couldn't see his eyes, but there was no mistaking the sadness in his voice. "Because it's not mine anymore." He rose, striding into the house. She lay there, shocked. She backed off for a little while, not teasing him and wearing conservative suits. A week or two later she came out in one of her one piece suits, and noticed he seemed disappointed. She lay for a few minutes, and got up grumbling. "This suit has something in it irritating my back. Would you mind if I change into something else?" "It's your house, you don't need my permission to dress any way you seem fit." She smiled when she came back in one of her more modest bikinis, and noticed the reaction she got. "He still wants me." She thought as she rubbed lotion on his back, glad he couldn't see her face, and the expression on it. His recovery was progressing nicely, and she feared one day soon he would move back into his own house. She, Melissa, and Greg conspired to make his life so good he would never want to leave. She was almost jealous of the way Melissa bonded with him. "Don't worry, Mom. I never really had a father, so let me enjoy this as long as I can." Melissa even talked him into being a guest lecturer at Pleasant Hill during career week. "Do you mind, Mom? You've there all the time, he'll be something different. You know, I had one boy flirting with me pretty hard, and then one day he just stopped. I asked Cindy[her best friend at school] if she knew what happened, and she said he found out my Dad was Hardy Wilkes, and it scared him." "I'm sorry, honey. Did you really like him?" "Sort of, but if he can't stand up to my family, he's not worth knowing, is he?" Gwen agreed, sometimes worrying that her pedigree caused her problems. Other than that one incident she never brought it up if it did. Hardy really enjoyed the moment, not objecting when she introduced him as her Dad. She insisted he stay for lunch, and they were swarmed. Melissa had gotten very popular, mostly because she remembered her roots and was kind to everyone, knowing that fate could be very fickle. One or two kids had to drop out because their parents had been hurt by the economy. She said something to Aunt Daisy about a girl she really liked having to leave. Daisy checked out the family, checked the girls' grade, and suddenly a scholarship appeared for her and a few others. Melissa knew she was behind it but wisely said nothing. ................................................. The next time she was in the car with him alone, she asked him something that had been bothering her. "What is your relationship with Bonnie?" "Why don't you ask her?" "Why won't you tell me?" "Because, just as I don't discuss you with anyone else, I won't discuss other women that are important to me, just like I did with Crystal Anne. If she wants to tell you she will, otherwise it's a closed subject." She still had the card she had given her at the fundraiser. She called. At first she didn't remember her, but when she mentioned Hardy it came back to her. "I remember you now. Have you done the tango, lately?" Gwen was glad she couldn't see her blush. "No, not since that night. There is only one person in the world I'll ever dance that with, and he's not interested in dancing with me anymore." "Don't sell yourself short. You didn't see him when she danced with others, especially your date. He WAS NOT happy. What can I do for you?" Gwen invited her for lunch, telling her Hardy said they should talk. "All right, I have to come home next week for political business. Meet me for Sunday dinner with my folks, and we'll talk after." "Thank you, where do your parents live?" She could hear the humor in her voice. "Oh, I'm sure you can find it. Everybody knows where the sheriff lives." "Will Rob is your dad?" "Yes, I thought you knew. Twelve thirty, be on time, Mom hates to wait dinner." The meal was enjoyable, the company more so.The surprises kept coming. J.T. was there, he was Bonnies' grandfather. After the meal they went out to the 'Florida room' as it was called when it was built. Now they're known as sunrooms. After the small talk, she asked how long she had known Hardy. "Since I was three. His mom kept me while my parents worked. I grew up with him and Peggy." "Have you ever, well, been attracted to him?" "When I was about twelve I developed a huge crush on him. He was tall, blond, handsome, and he treated me like a princess. I was too young to know he was just being friendly. When he was sixteen and I was thirteen and he started dating I cried myself to sleep more than once." "I followed him around like a puppy. One day, it was in July, the blackberries were just starting to come on, and Peggy and I were picking some for a pie while Hardy dug some post holes for a new pasture his grandfather was fencing in." "We didn't see the snake until it had latched on to my hand. A copperhead, one of the biggest I ever saw. You know what a copperhead is? Anyway, I screamed and pulled my hand back and the snake came with it." "I was panicking and Hardy was trying to get the snake off me. He got it loose and told Peg to get me into the Gator, a little off road utility vehicle. Hardy was only fifteen then, so he didn't have a license." "He had Peg get me onto the small truck bed. He was helping when he loosened his grip on the snake. It turned and bit him. He was starting to panic a little bit, wasn't thinking clearly, and needed both hands to get me situated, so he put the shake in his mouth, holding it just behind it's head." "He still had it in his mouth when we roared down the main street of town, with a deputy sheriff and a city cop on out tail, sirens blaring. He drove that little Gator right through the emergency room doors, spit the snake out, grabbed me, screaming I had been bit by a copperhead. Peggy was screaming he had been bit too, and just as soon as he handed me off to a nurse he collapsed." "The local newspaper had a police radio, and when they heard some maniac kid was driving down main street with the cops on his tail, two photographers ran out of the office and got pictures. It was on the front page of the paper the next day with a headline. "SNAKE BITES MAN, MAN LIVES. MAN BITES SNAKE, SNAKE DIES." "It seems he literally bit the snake to death. If you go into Dad's office, you'll see a framed copy of the front page, as well as the tanned hide of the snake. He was the deputy chasing us, it was just before he was elected sheriff." "So now you know why my father and grandfather keep such a close eye on Hardy, he saved my life. When he got into bad trouble, they pulled in every favor they had and owed a bunch more when they were done, but they kept him out of jail." "I know you've seen his tattoo, he got it to remember the incident, and not to panic in stressful situations." There was a long silence before she spoke again. "He went into the Marines, and I didn't see him again until last year. Dad told me when you two got married, and all I could think off was what a lucky woman you were. I fell in love, got married. He was a doctor, in the reserves, and got called up five years ago. He never came home. He wasn't supposed to be in combat situations, but was in the wrong place at the wrong time." "I need to tell you something. The night of the benefit, I slept with him. You guys were divorced, and I found I still had feelings for him. We spent several days together, but I knew the spark wasn't there, so we agreed friends without benefits would be best. I'm still fond of him, though." "He still loves you, I don't think he'll ever love another. Stop pussyfooting around and get him back. Stop nudging and start pushing. He nearly died, and it was all over you, damn it. Make his pain worth it!" She stopped talking and hugged her for a few minutes. The ride home was spent in deep thought. ................................................. The day finally came. She stood in his doorway, watching him pack. She had only one question. "When?" "Tomorrow. I can't thank you enough, but it's time to stop imposing on you. You need to get on with your life." She was about to start, when she felt her dad put his arms around her. "Not now, look at Melissa." Melissa was standing behind her, crying quietly. Greg pulled her back into the hall, giving Gwen and Hardy some space. "You could just stay, you know." He stiffened, his back still to her. "No I can't, it would be too hard on us." "Why? You know I love you, hell, everybody in the state of Alabama knows I love you." "And everybody in the family, which is probably half the state, knows you love me." "Give up, honey, I'm never gonna stop trying, not even if you threaten to beat me, or move away. I'll be right behind you until you come to your senses and realize that nothing or no one will ever love you more than me. Think about it." She turned and left the room. If she had gotten Hardy to face she would have seen the tears. Gwen had a plan, sneaky, underhanded, probably illegal, but still a plan. She still made sure he took his medication, so that evening she put a 'little something extra' in his water glass. It was a quarter of the sedative he had taken when the pain was sometimes to great to sleep early in his recovery. It was very powerful. She had her dad take Melissa out to the movies and to a late dinner. Mrs. Hendricks had gone for the day, they were alone in the house. She tied his arms and legs to the old four poster with some of his ties. True to type, he still slept nude. She lit candles, put on her sexiest teddy. She started out slowly, kissing him gently, then more urgently. His body started responding. They were in the midst of a deep kiss when he became fully conscious. He started to lunge up when he discovered he was restrained. "What the hell, Gwen? What are you doing?" The determination in her eyes reflected in the candlelight. "I'm taking my man back. I'm reclaiming the love you profess you still have for me. Before this night is over you'll either love me fully or hate me with an intensity that will finally break it between us. I grew up, not it's your turn. "Scream if you want, curse me, call me the cheating slut I was. But you will pay attention to me." She had propped his head up with pillows. She quickly stood. "Like this?" she twirled, showing him the teddy. "I bought it for you, it's your favorite color." Hardy did like it, very much, but he remained silent. "You're right, I don't like it much either. I'll just take it off." She slid the straps down, exposing her breasts. "There, that's better. Ooh, look at my nipples, remember how hard they get? They're hard now baby, hard for you." She swayed them over his face, just out of reach. "I actually think they're bigger now than before, don't you? Must be a side effect from getting older." She slid the teddy down, turning to slip it off. She looked over her shoulder at him. "Still think I've got the best ass on the planet? Know what Aunt Hildy said? She said I had the perfect bottom for bearing children, what do you think? I'm so disappointed in you, we should have had at least two by now, if you had got your head out of your ass sooner." Hardy had screamed, cursed, ordered her to release him. Damn her, he wouldn't beg. He had calmed down to the occasional grunt and moan. His body was betraying him, he could feel the blood rushing. She reached over, stroking him lightly. "Part of you looks ready to forgive me? All you have to say is you love and forgive me, and I'mn all yours." Hardy stubbornly remained silent. He stiffened from head to toe when she quickly plunged her mouth down on him, sucking furiously for about twenty seconds before pulling up. "Still don't have anything to say? Too bad." She straddled his chest, practically pushing her pussy in his face. "Remember this? She sure remembers you, look, see how much she likes you?" She slid a finger inside her swollen lips, releasing juices and the sweet musky smell he remember so well. "want to give her a welcome back kiss? No? All right then." She added another finger , moving them in and out, stopping once in a while to rub her clit. "Umm, this would feel so much better if someone else were doing it. Any volunteers, anyone? All right then." She slowly slid down his chest, stopping just out or reach of his throbbing cock, grinding slowly into him. "Anything I can help you with, baby?" "Damn you, you got me tied up and I'm pretty sure you drugged me. This is the very definition of rape." She laughed so hard she almost fell off him before resuming her gently grinding while she flicked her nipples with the wet fingers she had sucked on slowly for a bit. "I ought to do it, just for the fun of going to court. The mighty Hardy Wilkes, hardass, legend, defender of damsels in distress, tied up and fucked like a little bitch." She paused. "But I won't. You're going to ask for it, and it's gonna cost you" She leaned down, dangling her nipples within reach of his lips. "Smell that? It's your favorite perfume. I remember how much you liked licking the flavor off me. Go ahead, have a taste." His tongue snaked out before he thought, but he quickly snapped it back into his mouth, closing it quickly. She still rubbed them over his lips, moaning softly. After a minute she sat up. She had tried her best. She got off the bed and untied one of his hands. "Here, now you can undo the rest. I tried, I really tried. But it's over now. I'll never bother you again, if you'd rather live in pain and regret, so be it. Goodbye, Hardy. I won't be around in the morning when you leave. She started out the door, blinded by tears, when she heard it. It was almost a whisper. "Please." "What?" "Please, come back. Make love to me, please." She flew back to the bed, kissing him hungrily. They seemed intent on devouring each other when she pulled back. "No." "WHAT?" "No. I told you earlier the price of this ride. I want to hear it now, right this minute, or I'm gone." A few seconds of silence, then a whisper. "I love you, I'll always love you." "Not good enough. Keep saying it until I think you mean it. Say all is forgiven." It was hard to say when so much of his time was spent with a tongue, nipple, or clit was shoved in it, but he managed to get it out a few times over the course of the next hour. He hadn't had time to untie, and was a little too busy to worry about it. When she slid down on him so hard he was sure they were going to be bruised, they both screamed. She was humping furiously, and he was matching with equal thrusts. "That's it baby, harder. We'll make love later, right now I need to fuck your brains out. Give it to me, reclaim your woman!" Boston to Birmingham Ch. 05 She was practically screaming at the end, when the orgasms hit them. It felt like the world imploded right into the middle of the big fourposter bed. She collapsed onto his chest, crying freely. She roused herself, reached out to cup his head in her hands and glared at him. "SAY IT! say you love me, say it and mean it." He had managed to free his other hand, and he held her head while she held his. "Gwen Maire Wilkes, I love you. I'll scream it out in church Sunday, put a full page notice in the paper, I'll stop random strangers in the streets and bore them for thirty minutes telling them of the depth of my love for you. How about spots on the television?" She laughed, feeling gloriously, absolutely happy. "That won't be necessary. Just tell me often and the family occasionally, and we'll call it even." They cuddled, then joined again, in slow unhurried love, their tears mingling from time to time, until they finally collapsed, and slept. Greg and Melissa came home, laughing at the movie they had just watched. Gwen had left the bedroom door open, too exhausted to get up and close it. They both stopped and stared, Gwen was lying on his chest sleeping peacefully. Melissa went in quietly and pulled the cover over her. "I think the picture of a girls' parents naked is not what an impressionable young girl needs to see. Don't you think so, grandfather?" She was smiling through moist eyes. He held her close, hugging her tightly. "I think the finest thing a young girl could ever see is the expression of total love between her parents. But some clothes wouldn't have hurt." .................................................. Think this is the end? Boston to Birmingham Ch. 06 This is the last installment. Thanks for reading, and especially for the comments, as always. ................................................. Hardy woke with a start, trying to understand why he felt so happy. Then Gwen stirred and snaked a hand over his chest, hugging him lightly. "Good morning, my love. Did you sleep as well as I did? I have to tell you, it's the best nights' sleep I've had in over three years." He caressed her hair lightly. "Like a rock, you wore me out. In my defense, I'm still not quite up to my old self." She moved languidly over his body, rubbing every inch of skin she could into to him. "Don't worry. I've got a new kind of physical therapy in mind for you, one designed to improve you endurance and flexibility. It'll have to be at night mostly. Scheduling and all that." "He had moved a hand down, capturing her breast and rolling the nipple. "I don't know, I've always enjoyed early morning workouts." He was reaching farther down when the door banged open and Melissa flew into the room, jumping into the middle of the bed. Gwen shrieked and covered her chest. Melissa rolled her eyes. "Good morning, parental units! Mrs. Hendricks said to tell you breakfast is getting cold, and that she has errands to run, so one of you has to take me to school. And mom, if you were so interested in modesty, you should have shut the door last night, or at least covered yourself. What a sight for a shy young, impressionable girl! I'll probably be scarred for life." It was all she could do to hold her laughter in as both of them glowed red. "So, chop chop. Get your showers, and I don't mean together. I'd hate to explain I was late for school because I couldn't get my parents out of the bathroom." She was up and bounded out before Gwen could even fuss at her. Hardy broke down, and soon she joined him. She got a serious look in her eyes. "Better get used to this." "What?" "Our children barging in on us at inopportune times." "How many children are we talking about here?" "Well, this house has five bedrooms, and you know how I hate to waste space." "Four? How long will that take, we're getting kind of old you know." She punched him in the arm. "Speak for yourself. But I agree, we should start soon. I don't want you changing diapers in your fifties." The looks they exchanged seemed almost magical. They reached for each other when Melissa barged back in. "Gee, am I gonna have to hose you guys down? Mom, just give me your keys, I'll see you this afternoon." "Young lady, you are not driving my Rover! I'll take you, and on the way we're going to have a LONG talk about respect for your elders and recognizing the need for privacy." "I guess this is a bad time to tell you I called Aunt Daisy and told them you were back together. She wants you over at her house, soon as possible." Something in Gwens' eyes warned her she had finally stepped over the line, and she fled the room. "MELISSA SUE WILKES, GET YOUR BUTT BACK HERE RIGHT THIS SECOND!" They heard the front door slam, and her yelling something about waiting in the car. Hardy held her grinning. "Don't worry, she's just happy. You know this Facebook generation, it hits their mind and the whole world knows about it." "Facebook, oh shit. You know how many family members she has as friends? All of them. The old ones that don't have computers will be getting calls, if they haven't already." She noticed the change in his eyes. "Having regrets all ready?" "No, baby, no. I just wanted a little more time for us to get to know each other again. I know we think we already do, but three years is a long time. We have to get used to each other, we're both different now. I just wanted a little quiet time, that's all." "Don't worry, I'll just tell everyone you tied me down and raped me into submission. That'll shut them up." Gwen almost fainted. "Please don't tell anyone about last night. I'm kind of ashamed, but I was desperate. But, it got you back to me, so I don't regret it a bit." "Don't worry, Gwen. I'll never tell, think of the damage it would do my reputation." "I have to tell you, honey, that I now know that reputation is mostly smoke and mirrors. You're a very decent man disguised as a rogue. Besides, being the woman of the most dangerous man in town is kind of good for my image. Now, I've got to get going, or Melissa will be late." She dashed out while Hardy ate a large breakfast. Mrs. Hendricks was pleased her efforts were appreciated. Greg came in and got a cup of coffee, sitting across from Hardy, grinning. "Say it." "Say what, Hardy?" "That I told you so. That you were right." He laughed. "I don't have to, you just did. Welcome back to the family." "Huh?" "Welcome back to the family. It was close there for a little, but they liked Gwen a whole lot more than they did you, so push come to shove, if you hadn't straightened up you were out. They almost had a pool going to see how long you could last. I'm glad we didn't, I would have lost. I thought you were a lot more stubborn." "Well, I'm glad to have provided so much entertainment to you all." "Oh, don't get huffy, one of your cousins is bound to screw up, and we'll have something else to talk about." "In fact, I have a feeling I know what it's gonna be, and no, I'm not telling you, you'll see soon enough." .................................................. Gwen felt like she was going to an execution. Marcus opened the door, and folded her into a big hug and a kiss on her cheek. "Congratulations." She rolled her eyes. "God, does everybody know?" Aunt Daisy had come up behind them, and as usual rapped her cane on the floor when she wanted attention. "Marcus, if you're done mauling your cousin, would you please shut the door. My goodness, no manners at all. Come on girl, we have things to discuss." They went into the parlor, a room so formal it was rarely used. Oh, man, this must be serious. She sat at a small table covered with books. "Come on girl, we haven't got all day." She surprised her by not mentioning Hardy at all. In fact she didn't say anything at all about him for the next ninety minutes. "Gwen Marie, this is our year to host the Commemorative Cotillion. I can't believe it's been ten years already. You are official hostess, so you've got a lot of things to get done in the next few months." "Huh?" "What communication skills! Are you sure you're a lawyer? The Commemorative Cotillion of the Daughters of the Confederacy, girl, the biggest social event in Birmingham, at least to the older members of the social elite. Invitation only, full costumes. If the man has been in the military, he has to wear a uniform, preferably one matching the rank of an ancestor, the higher the better." "We only have it every two years, and combine it with the coming out of our female children sixteen and older. Melissa Sue will of course represent us. Any questions?" "A lot. I thought you brought me here to talk about Hardy and me. And I'm not even a member of the Daughters, am I?" "Why would I want to talk about you and Hardy when there is so much other important stuff going on? You got him back. Hurrah for you. I always knew you would." "Not could we focus here, and yes, you're a member, have been since last year. You're welcome." For the next hour she overloaded Gwen with details. What was expected as hostess. What was required attire. As hostess, she was expected to foot most of the bill, there were many members who had no wealth left, only a proud heritage. She was expected to make discrete inquiries, and fund the attendance of as many as possible. Not to worry, she would have help. Daisy, Hildy, and two women she didn't even know would take care of that part. She would also have a decorating, catering, and entertainment committees. There was to be a historical consultant [who turned out to be Marcus] on the proper dress. Basically all she had to do was referee arguments and write checks. "Think you can handle it, girl?" She smiled wryly. "Do I have a choice?" "No." "Well, all right then, when do we start, and what's the time frame?" "Five months. No time to waste. Lots to do you know." Aunt Daisy was really excited, far more passionate than she had ever seen. "Look here, girl. This is what you're supposed to look like." The woman was absolutely beautiful. She had a parasol, a shawl around her bare shoulders, and a dress that was magnificent, resplendent with petticoats and a hoop. There was another woman, much younger, just as attractive, standing beside her. "They're so beautiful. Why do they look familiar?" Aunt Daisy laughed. "Because the older one is your grandmother, and the younger one is me. I told you, except for the hair color, you look just like her. I'm sure you'll top us both. Hardy will be so proud." "That was us, I won't tell you the year. Look at this." There had been a painting on the wall that had been draped ever since Gwen had been coming ti her house. Aunt Daisy removed the cover. It was a portrait, made from the photograph. The women seemed to glow. Daisy sighed. "This was my favorite of all the family portraits. I draped it the day Ginny died. I'm commissioning one of you and Melissa to hang beside it. When I pass, you get them all. You're rich, so Marcus and a few deserving individuals in the family will get my money, but you will inherit this, the family home and all its' contents. Marcus knows and approves. Even if you never live here, keep it in the family. Nine generations of our family have lived here. I won't rest if it passes into the hands of strangers. Promise me, Gwen, please." Gwen took her hands. "I swear to you, my beloved Aunt Daisy, that as long as I live it will remain in the family, if nothing else, as a loving tribute to a woman who has become to mean so much to me." For the very first time in all the time she had known her, Aunt Daisy cried. It seemed to embarrass her. Gwen hugged her until it passed. Finally, she shoved her away. "Look at me, such a sentimental old fool. You must think I'm losing my reason. I..." Gwen folded her back into her arms. "Please hush, Aunt Daisy, and just let me love you for a moment. Please." Daisy surrendered, it had been years since anyone had held her with this much passion. She finally pushed her away. "Go on home now, child. You got a good man and a good child waiting for you. You have no idea how lucky you are. We'll talk tomorrow, lots to do you know. Shoo." Daisy sat and stared at the portrait for a long time after she left, remembering better days. ................................................. Gwen came home and hugged Melissa, Hardy, and Greg hard, without a word. Soon she was immersed in the mechanics of hosting and funding the cotillion. Some of the older members sniffed at the sacrilige of a Yankee being in charge, but when Aunt Daisy trotted out her pedigree like a prized mare, going back nine generations, saying where she was raised didn't matter, the fact that she was where she belonged did, they relented. Especially when they realized if they pissed her off there would be no event. Hardy and the men expected to be escorts got a big surprise. The dance would be traditional ones from the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, and they were expect to know and perform them at a reasonable level. Tutors had been arranged, and practices were organized. The Viennese Waltz, the Virginia reel, the Parade, even the Polka were the ones practiced, as they were the most popular dances of the time. This made it interesting for the younger generation, they had to secure dates early enough to make the practices. This led to a flurry of dates, phone calls, and text messages. Melissa had nineteen invitations. Gwen talked to her about it, she hadn't accepted any and she wanted to know why. "Most of these are suckups, they don't want to go with me, they want to go with the rich girl. I know I'm only seventeen, but Pleasant Hill is a hotbed of political movements. Parents are already pushing their children to make life long committments they had nothing to do with love, as long as they 'marry well'." "Don't you like any of the boys at school?" "Some. Believe it or not, most are intimidated by who I am. Heir to the Howes and Canadays, with Hardy Wilkes as my father figure, they're scared to death. Some are just shy. I really like one boy, but he doesn't know I exist." Gwen laughed. "Honey, as pretty as you are, there isn't a boy in Birmingham who doesn't know you exist. This is your night and your choice, so ask him, don't wait." "That's not done." "Maybe it wasn't done in 1850, but this is the New South, women are much more empowered, ask him! All he can say is no. Hardy didn't come after me, I had to practically drag him to the altar." Speaking of altars, Gwen and Hardy were taking it slow, dating as it were. They often told each other they were loved, but Hardy hadn't brought up marriage, and Gwen was not going to screw things up by pushing him. Still, sometimes..... ................................................ Melissa gathered up her courage and approached the boy of her interest. "Jimmy, I'm having some of the guys over to my house for a pool party Saturday. Would you like to come?" James Gregory Madsen nearly fainted. Melissa had been the girl of his dreams from her first day at the academy. He watched her blossom from a shy, insecure girl into the confident young woman before him. It rattled him so bad words almost failed him. "Uh, what?" "Pool party, this Saturday, my house. Be there at three, all right? My mom and dad like to meet my new friends." Shit! He had heard enough of the legend of Hardy Wilkes to be intimidated. His dad was a defense lawyer, and he had heard enough stories about what a cast iron bitch Gwen was to consider her equally intimidating. "Uh, yeah, sure, I guess." "Great, we're gonna grill out later, have a fire and roast marshmallows. See you." And then, in a swirl of shimmering hair and understated perfume, she was gone. His friend stood there with his mouth hanging open. "Good God Almighty! Melissa Wilkes. I am now a firm believer in miracles." "I'm not going." "Are you insane? Blood having trouble getting to your brain? Mine does whenever she's too close. The Queen of Pleasant Hill invites you to her home, of course you're going. Your dad is gonna shit." "I'm not in her league." "Asshole, nobody is in her league! I'd cut off my left nut for an invitation like that. Say you're going or I'll kick your ass." "Mighty brave words from somebody half my size." "I mean it, I'll knock you out and dump you on their front lawn if I have to. Go!" "I'll think about it." When Jimmy casually mentioned he might be going to a pool party/cookout Saturday, his parents only seemed mildly interested. "That's nice", his mom said, "do we know the family?" "You might. Melissa Sue Wilkes invited me. Dad, I believe you know her mom, Gwen?" His dad almost choked on his tea, and his mom nearly dropped a dish. "Gwen Canaday Wilkes? Ex wife of Hardy Wilkes? Isn't she that rich Yankee that moved down here a few years back?" "That's her, mom. So, mind if I go?" His mother was almost drooling, thinking of the implications, the possible doorways that might swing open. His dad laughed. "Go on, son, have a good time. But if that girl is half as tough as her momma, about all you'll ever get to say is 'yes dear'." Jimmy was handsome in his own right, but was too shy to realize it. Tall, jet black hair that made his blue eyes stand out. He ran cross country and played basketball, so he was in top physical form. Many of the girls at school thought he might be gay because he rarely dated. He just didn't know how to act around the female of the species. At two forty five Saturday afternoon he was ringing the doorbell of the Wilkes household. Gwen answered the door. "Uh, hi Mrs Wilkes. I'm Jimmy Madsen..." He didn't get to say more before Gwen was shaking his hand. "It's good to meet you Jimmy, Melissa speaks highly of you. I know your father, a fine attorney. Give him my best. Please come in." She said something over her shoulder and a tall man appeared at her side. "Jimmy this is my hus...er, Mr. Wilkes." He held out his hand and got a firm shake. "Welcome, Jimmy, any friend of our little girl and so on. Melissa is out by the pool, why don't you join her? We'll be out later." Gwen felt a thrill course through her when Hardy said 'OUR little girl'. Yes, yes, yes! But she soon had other concerns, thirty teens require a lot of attention. Most had been there and knew the rules. If it was going to be just a few girls, they could wear what they wanted, and Gwen had seen a few suits that were so tiny it seemed a waste of time to don them. If boys were to be present, then the suits had to be more modest. Gwen had actually sent a girl or two home to change. She was pleased to see even though they were bikinis, they were modest ones. Small groups clustered, dispersed, realigned. Melissa had a firm grip on Jimmies hand, leading him around. He was stiff as a board for the first half hour before he started to relax. There were a few envious stares and a few hostile ones. Five boys there had invited her to the cotillion, and she had turned them all down. Gwen knew boys, and girls, and teenage hormones, so she kept a close eye on everyone. She knew there would be touches, discreet kisses as the kids paired off, and that was fine. Anything else was not. She had caught a couple in the pool house, he already had her top off. They were both banned from the house. After that she didn't have any trouble. She wasn't foolish enough not to know that a lot of them were sexual active, and she spent many nights worrying about Melissa. She had 'the talk' with Melissa just after she moved in. No one had talked to her about sex, and she actually cried at times as Gwen explained it to her. She promised her if she felt urges she would talk to her, and agreed she was too young. Because of her past, she was emotionally a few years behind her body, and Gwen wanted her to mature a little before she even considered it. She remembered her own past and knew if she really wanted to have sex there was really no way to stop her. So far Gwen thought she was still a virgin, but who knows? It came down to trust, and Melissa never gave her reason not to. The party was a huge success. The boys got more reserved when Hardy came out and started the grill, but he said little and was pleasant, so they relaxed. Melissa and Jimmy were now officially an item. One look at Jimmy and you could tell he was smitten, and Melissa glowed. Gwen took Hardy by the hand as they stood watching. She had tears in her eyes. "She's growing up, honey. Soon she'll be gone, off to college and the rest of her life. I wish I had gotten her earlier, I wish..." She dropped his hand and fled into the house, leaving him confused for a second. She had been increasingly moody lately. Was she having regrets? It would kill him if she decided after all this she didn't want him. She was back in a few minutes, dry eyed. She took his hand again. "Sorry honey. Mommy blues, I guess. Don't they make a cute couple?" He couldn't help smiling. "Yes they do. He hasn't got a chance. When a Wilkes woman wants something, the fires of hell couldn't stop her from getting it. I know from experience." She wanted to throw him down right there beside the pool. Instead she squeezed his hand and gave him a kiss that held a lot of promise. "Hey, behave there! Is this the example you want us to follow? All right, here." Boston to Birmingham Ch. 06 Melissa grabbed Jimmy and gave him a quick little kiss. Hardy thought Jimmy might pass out. "Get used to it, son. You're with a Wilkes now, and no man alive has figured out how to handle them. I'm proof, I've been trying for years." Melissa and Gwen glowed with pride. Jimmy just glowed. "Dad! Watch the grill. something might be burning." He gave both a quick kiss. "You're right. Something is heating up." He turned back to the grill, while the kids who had watched the whole thing erupted into giggles and snickers. Gwen grabbed Melissa and fled into the kitchen. After they composed themselves they returned, bearing platters. The tables were set, and soon the hungry teens were devouring burgers and hot dogs as fast as Hardy could get them off the grill. The girls helped gather the dishes, while the boys helped pick up the mess. It was getting dark and a little cool, so everyone changed into jeans and tees while Gwen and Hardy started the fires. They had bought four portable fire pits and had arranged them across the yard. Soon the sweet smell of cherry wood filled the air, and marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers appeared, along with other snacks. Melissa made a point of joining every group, with Jimmy in tow. Hardy and Gwen sat in the shadows, watching. A couple would fade into the night for a quick kiss, but return before someone came looking for them, careful to obey the rules. Melissa and Jimmy wandered by, and she gave a quick wave. "Did they let go of each other long enough to eat?" Gwen laughed. "Just barely. I think they were hungry for something else." Gwen watched closely as Melissa pulled him behind the huge oak at the corner of the yard. Two minutes later, when they walked back to the fire, you could have hit Jimmy over the head with a two by four and he would have just smiled. She left him long enough to kiss Gwen and thank her for her advice. She seemed to have found her date for the Cotillion. By ten everyone was gone but Jimmy. He was allowed to stay until eleven while they cleaned up. He offered to help, but they shooed them into the house, saying they could handle it. "What do you think they're doing now?" asked Hardy as he took the last trash bag to the bin. "If I had to guess, I'd say they were verifying the fact that they both have their tonsils still." said Gwen laughing. "Come over here honey, I want to show you something behind this oak tree." .................................................. Greg was still there, he seemed in no hurry to return to Boston. When Hardy got shot, he took an indefinite leave, turned the business over to the partners, and came down immediately. He seemed to be gone a lot lately, and when Gwen asked him about it he said he was going for long drives, enjoying the countryside. His drives lately had extended to overnight excursions. After verifying Hardy was going to survive, he paid a surprise visit to Roy. "Know who I am?" Roy nodded. "Something I can help you with?" "I hope so. I need to find Ronnie Wilkes." Roy's eyes hardened. "Don't concern yourself. This is family business, we'll take care of it." Greg exploded. "That was my daughter he almost got killed! Hardy is like a son to me, and now he's lying in a hospital bed shot to ribbons! They're my family too, so it is my fucking business. Now, you gonna help me, or do I have to hire outside the family?" Roy and Harry, who happened to be there, was awed by the feeling of raw power that radiated from Greg. The man was pissed. "No offense, there. We're just used to handling things ourselves." "I intend to let you. Anything you want, and I mean ANYTHING, you let me know. Money? No limit. Legal services by the best money can buy if you need it. Just one thing I ask. I'm there when you get him, understand? Give me your word as a Wilkes." Feeling like he was making a deal with the devil, Roy extended his hand. Greg gave him a gym bag. Roy opened it, it was packed with cash. He looked up in wonder. Two hundred thousand. If that runs out, I'll give you more. Spread it around, if there is any left after we find him, keep it. Now get to it! He strode from the room without a backwards glance. Roy and Harry looked at each other before Harry shuddered. "Glad he's not pissed at me." ................................................ Roy put a bounty out, big enough to get a lot of attention. Will Rob heard about it through the grapevine, and hoped he would be the first to find him. He knew what would happen if he didn't. Roy won the race. One of the younger cousins found the hot car behind an old abandoned house. Greg, Roy, and six of the toughest men in his crew waited until midnight before slipping through the brush. Greg moved like a ghost. "He's done this before" Roy thought, watching him. Ronnie never had a chance. He was asleep on an old sofa when they burst in. He didn't get a single shot off. Roy was well on the way to beating him to death before they pulled him off. Greg got his attention. "I want you to tie him up, then leave. I'll take care of him." Roy started arguing about upholding the family honor. He stopped in shock when Greg pulled a combat knife out of nowhere and laid it against his throat. "Listen to me Roy. I said I'd take care of him. And I will. I bought and paid for him. Leave me two guys and go on home. We're all tied together, so it's the same family now. Please, Roy." He left his two toughest cousins. The look Greg had in his eyes when he left made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. "Wait outside," Greg told the two remaining men, "I'll be a little while." ............................................... Ronnie came to his senses to see a man he didn't know watching him. An older guy, he looked like he worked in an office. He felt a sense of relief, he wasn't going to die. There was a small fire going in the old woodstove, even though it was warm. The man smiled. "Good, you're awake. Let me introduce myself. I'm Greg Canaday, the father of the woman you sold out to the Escobars, and the father of Hardy Wilkes, the man you tried to murder. You almost got him, but Hardy is just to damn tough. I thought about waiting until he could take care of you personally, but I don't have that much patience." Ronnie started to get really nervous. The man returned to stirring the fire. When the flames leaped up he stopped. "Let me tell you a little about myself, Mr. Wilkes. I was born rich and got even richer. My dad was afraid I would become weak, so he sent me to VMI for my education. When you're a rich Yankee kid in a Southern military school, you learn to defend yourself pretty quick. It also taught me how Southerners think." "I loved the place, and as an alumni I support it generously. My family has a tradition Mr. Wilkes, we have represented our country in every war since the Revolution." "I went straight out of school into the Army, the last year we were in Southeast Asia." He paused, remembering. "I did things there, Mr. Wilkes, terrible things. I ran a crew on the 'night shift', know what that was? No? Good, very few did." "I swore if I got back home I'd never raise a hand against another person, but I'm afraid you've forced me to break that oath." "You're going to die tonight, Ronnie. It won't be quick, it won't be painless, you can scream if you want. If I get tired of hearing it I'll cut your tongue out. You ready?" Before he could answer or beg, Greg pulled the combat knife he was heating in the fire and laid the flat of the blade against his cheek. The skin immediately seared and a terrible stench filled the air. Ronnies' scream caused one of the cousin to jump off the porch. He was about to go in when the other pulled him back. "Best leave it be." Thirty minutes and many screams later, it got silent. Greg appeared at the door, blood soaked clothes in his hand. "Clean up, will you? And tell no one. If you do and I find out, I would be very displeased" he said as slipped into the darkness. The youngest cousin went into the house, rushed back out and spewed his supper into the bushes. The older one went in slowly and stopped stunned. Ronnie, or what was left of him, was slumped on the floor. The knife had been jammed into the wall above his head. Something dangled from it. The man looked closer. It was a tongue. They never spoke of what the saw, only telling Roy that Ronnie had been dealt with. At later family reunions, they avoided Greg like the plague. .................................................. Gwen was rushing around, preparing for the Cotillion, Greg would appear and disappear with a strange smile on his face, and Melissa was experiencing love for the first time, so Greg was at loose ends. Jimmy had pretty much become a fixture at the house, and they managed to get in extra dance practice with Gwen and Melissa. Jimmy was determined not to embarrass her, and Hardy just liked to dance. Besides, it was great exercise. His body was almost completely healed. He started spending time at the farm, attending to things that got neglected when Joshua became ill. There was always a younger cousin or two around to watch him while Hildy was gone. She seemed to be gone a lot lately. Hardy wondered about that, but it was none of his business. Besides, she seemed happier now than he had ever seen her. Hardy had found two younger female cousins and paid they on the sly to make sure Hildy wasn't overworked and to help prepare the Sunday dinners. They were getting bigger and bigger until the average group was around fifty, and they had to move it outdoors. Hardy had a shelter built that could hold about a hundred, complete with kitchen. A lot of time was spent looking at the herd of cattle Hardy had bought. Herd was a bit of a grand word for five cows and a bull, but he had plans. They were Scottish highland cattle, small, shaggy, Hardy loved the way they looked. Greg had found them on one of his drives while in Tennessee, and kept on about how they looked. Hardy looked them up on the computer, and nagged the whole family into going to see them. Gwen thought they were cute but was still too much of a big city girl to get close. Melissa and Jimmy were soon in the pasture petting them, after getting permission from the owner. He didn't have any for sale, but gave Hardy a few names. Three weeks later he bought two cows in Tennessee, two in Arkansas, and a bull from Georgia. He was like a kid at Christmas when they were delivered. One huge benefit was the way Joshua reacted to them. It was the first thing that sparked his interest since the surgery. He soon spent time with them daily, making them pets. At the sound of his yell, they would charge the fence, fighting for attention. When the first calf appeared he was so happy he almost gave out cigars. Greg gave him a computer, and at eighty two he learned how to use it. He corresponded with other owners constantly, looking for additions to the herd. Soon visitors would show up, usually for Sunday dinner, and discuss cattle until everyone in the family knew way too much about cows. Greg surprised the family when he bought the farm two properties over, saying it was just an investment. Hildy was over constantly, supervising the remodeling of the house. He then bought ten Highland cattle, after getting Josh to agree to look after them. ................................................. The time for the Cotillion was fast approaching. Gwen felt overwhelmed at times, even with the help she was getting. It was to be held on one of the grand old plantations just outside town. The plantation was long gone, and the house was now used for marriages, corporate events, and private parties. The big draw was the ballroom, a cavernous room capable of holding three hundred. So far she had two hundred forty confirmations. About half needed economic assistance, and Daisy discretely supplied the necessary funds, mostly as a kindness for old friends. Though she would never mention it, she was sure this would be her last cotillion, and she wanted to go out in style. Tailors had been laboring constantly to make sure the suits and dresses would be ready. There was a strict code for the women. The ones being presented could wear white, ivory, yellow, pale pink or light blue. The mature women could wear red, blue, green, in darker colors, or gold. The older ladies, especially the widows, were encouraged to wear black. Two weeks before the affair, Gwen went for her final fitting. She was stunned when the seamstress told her she would have to let it out just a little. She knew she had been eating erratically and hadn't been exercising lately, but thought she had lost instead of gained. Oh well, she would take better care of herself after it was over. The next morning she woke nauseated, and just barely made it to the bathroom. She was due at the plantation for the final run through, so she ate an antacid and went to pick up Aunt Daisy. She was still feeling queasy, but managed to get through the meetings. On the way back though, she had to pull over. Daisy insisted she see a doctor, couldn't be coming down with something when the cotillion was so close. Daisy made a call, her cell phone was her one concession to the modern world, and a doctor was waiting when they arrived at her house. "Who makes house calls anymore?" she thought, as he took her temperature and checked her blood pressure. He asked her questions and began to smile. "Please come to my office tomorrow, Mrs. Wilkes. I need to run a few tests to confirm your condition." Daisy was alarmed. "Condition? Answer me straight, what do you think is wrong with her?" "I don't think anything is wrong with her that a little time won't fix." "How much time? We have a very important social event coming up in just a few days, will she be all right by then?" "Oh, I have no doubt she will be well enough for your event. And the time frame is roughly about seven to eight more months." He looked into Gwen's nervous eyes. "I firmly think, my dear, you're about to experience the joy of motherhood. Tell me, when was your last period?" "It should have been almost two weeks ago, but I have been irregular in the past, especially under stress." The implications suddenly hit her. "OH MY GOD! I'm having a baby!" She collapsed into the sofa, crying uncontrollably. Daisy was hugging her, crying with her. "Hardy will be so proud! I wish I could see his face when you tell him." "Hardy! What am I gonna do about him? I love him, he loves me, but he hasn't brought up getting remarried and I've been too scared to ask." "Tell him it's time to stop dallying around and be a man. I have no doubt he will stand up to his responsibilities." "No, I want him to marry me because he wants to, not because he thinks he has to. What a mess." She lowered her head sobbing again. Daisy cleared her throat as though she had something distasteful in it. "Well, you could always take care of it, discretely. He would never know." "Take care of it? Oh, you mean an abortion! NO! Even if he doesn't want it, even if he leaves me, this baby will be born." Daisy patted her hand. "Good girl. Now, compose yourself and think of a way to tell him." .................................................. Hardy noticed Gwen was a lot quieter than usual that night, but just left her alone, thinking she had the upcoming affair on her mind. He did tell her his costume was ready. She told him she had her last fitting too. They agreed not to see them until the night of the event, hoping they would both be pleased. Still, he glanced up from time to time, catching her watch him. ................................................. Hardy had been thinking a lot about marriage, lately. He wanted to ask her in the perfect place, at the perfect time. He decided to do it at the cotillion. It would be a magical night. Unbeknownst to everyone, he had his own surprises planned for that night. Finally, the night was at hand. Gwen had been doing a lot of thinking also. She had decided to bite the bullet and tell him right afterwards she was pregnant. That way, if he reacted badly, she would have good memories about the cotillion. Gwen, Daisy, Hildy, and Melissa got dressed at Daisy's, not wanting the men to see them until the last minute. Hardy, Greg, and Jimmy dressed at their house, called for the limo, and soon arrived at the door. It was opened by Daisy, and the men were escorted to the parlor, with the door left open to a full view of the stairs. Daisy got their attention. "Gentlemen, Miss Melissa Sue Wilkes!" She floated down the stairs like a vision in a dream. A pale yellow dress, shoulders bare and a ribboned cameo around her neck. Her hair cascaded in loose ringlets framing her face, with matching ribbons woven through it. Jimmy nearly passed out. He was dressed in a planter's suit of the era. frock coat, laced collar, high boots. "Miss Hildy..um..Baker!" Hildy was a vision, medium red satin gown, white lace gloves, lacquered comb holding an elaborate hair style. Red satin slippers adorned her feet. She, too, seemed to float as she moved. A double strand of pearls wound round her neck. Greg was grinning ear to ear. Her escort for the night. He wore the uniform of a Union captain. There was a serious discussion among the members, but Greg said if he couldn't wear it he wasn't going. It was finally permitted, as the committee said, as a gesture of reconciliation over past difficulties. Daisy waited a full five minutes before announcing Gwen. "Mrs. Gwen Marie Wilkes!" The gown was shimmering gold, layers of lace and silk, with matching gloves. A single diamond glittered at her throat, courtesy of Daisy. A simple lace shawl framed her bare shoulders. Her blond tresses were arranged artfully in a semi-bun. Hardy couldn't even remember breathing, and he would have bet his soul she never once touched the steps on the way down. He had the uniform of a major from the First Alabama, authentic in every detail, complete with sash and saber. Gwen had talked him into growing his beard back, just for this event. The men each gave their ladies a single red rose, and were allowed to kiss their cheeks, mustn't disturb the makeup, please. They also gave Daisy a rose each, yellow, white, and red. They were also allowed to kiss her cheek. Her eyes glowed with more emotion than Gwen had ever seem. She wasn't to travel with them, she had her own escort. She teased Gwen relentlessly by not revealing him. When the limo pulled into the plantation drive, it pulled over in a designated area, where four carriages were waiting. They were polished and shining, the horses curried and plumed. "What's this?" Melissa cried with excitement. "This is my contribution to the festivities. Jimmy, Greg, Will Rob when he arrives, and me will escort each guest to the front steps of the mansion and inside. You ladies and Aunt Daisy will greet them as they enter. Go on, we'll be there when the last guest arrives." He had also hired two different groups of photographers and videographers to immortalize the event. As official hostesses, they had arrived an hour early. Soon, carriages were rotating through the gates, everyone wanted to arrive in style, so no one drove. Gwen, Melissa, Hildy, and Daisy welcomed them all, urging them to try the finger foods being offered by servants dressed in the garb of the mid eighteen hundreds. The orchestra was tuning up and the festivities would begin soon. The guests mingled, seeing and being seen. There was a 'parlor' where the adult ladies could get more serious refreshment than that offered in the ballroom. and a 'drawing room' available for the gentlemen. Gwen, for reasons unknown to Hardy, wasn't drinking, and he decided maybe it was best if he left the libations alone. They circulated for forty five minutes, keeping an eye on the youngsters. Boston to Birmingham Ch. 06 Suddenly there were two loud raps at the head of the stairs. It was Marcus, dressed to the nines in period clothing, holding a large cane. He had a small, almost invisible headset on. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" His voice echoed and boomed all over the ballroom. courtesy of a very discretely place PA system. "In your time honored tradition of your ancestors, it is time for the presentations. Dancing will commence shortly afterwards. Places please! We will commence in exactly five minutes." The 'presentations' were for the younger women to be formally introduced to the elite of local society. Afterwards, every couple would go up a back stair, to be introduced and proceed down the main stair into the ballroom, to appropriate applause. The hostess and her family were always presented last. It was said that the importance of your ranking in society was revealed by the order of presentation, with the most important going last. The girls were presented first. Marcus would rap his cane twice for attention, and then announce them. Melissa was the very last. "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you Miss Melissa Sue Wilkes, escorted tonight by Master James Madsen." Melissa remembered the night for the rest of her life. She told her children years later she knew then how Cinderella must have felt. The adult introductions started, couples gliding down the stairs to polite applause. It was getting closer to the end before the dancing. Hildy and Greg were to be introduced, then Daisy and her escort, and finally Gwen with Hardy. Hardy thought Gwen was acting strange, and she thought he looked nervous as a cat at a dog show. The curtain opened and Hildy and Greg appeared. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Greg Canaday!" Gwen blurted "What?" Greg looked over his shoulder with a grin as the curtain closed. "We eloped last weekend." Daisy stood with a smug smile, Hildy told her earlier in the week, making her promise not to ruin the surprise. Gwen got another shock when Aunt Daisy stepped up to the curtain with her escort. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Daisy Howe, escorted by Mr. Joshua Hardy." Daisy had on a black, lace accented dress, with red trim and a red shawl. Josh had on a sergeant's uniform, in honor of an ancestor who won the Confederate version of the medal of honor. Most knew she would never see another Cotillion, and their applause let her know just how much she was valued. They stepped up to the curtain. Hardy arranged for Marcus to hold the curtain for a moment. He held her hand tightly for a second, before dropping to one knee. "Gwen, I thought about how to tell you just how deeply I love you, but words fail me. Just know, I never want to spend another night away from you, my lover, my woman, my wife. Will you marry me again?" Gwen looked into his eyes, blurted out "I'm pregnant" and in the grand tradition of Southern Belles going back over three centuries, fainted dead away. Marcus thought he heard the signal, rapped twice, and announced them. "Ladies and Gentlemen, your hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Hardy Wilkes!" The curtain opened to Hardy, down on one knee, holding an unconscious Gwen. ................................................ There was a collective gasp from the ballroom, and Marcus quickly closed the curtain. There were two doctors in the crowd, and they were rushed to the top of the stairs. Gwen stirred, waking up in Hardy's arms while he was still on his knees. It all flooded back to her, and she grabbed his head kissing him repeatedly, and with passion, stopping occasionally to profess love for him. The doctors, upon arriving on the scene, smiled and pronounced her sufficiently recovered to resume the festivities. They did get to a do a belated grand entrance, and the reason for the delay shot round the ballroom with the speed of light. When the curtains opened, the applause lasted three minutes. Melissa and Hildy met them at the foot of the stairs. Melissa gave a little fist pump and said "You go, Mom!", then patted her stomach. "And you too, little brother or sister." Daisy, Gwen, Hildy, and Melissa hugged in a group, crying, even Daisy. They all had to retire to the powder room to fix their appearance. The Cotillion turned into a personal celebration for the Wilkes/Canaday clan. After being assured by the doctor it was all right, they danced the night away. All things end, so at midnight the ball was officially closed. There was a run on bedrooms as the younger generation changed into party clothes. As a gift for Melissa on her eighteenth birthday Hardy and Gwen had rented one of the smaller halls at The Club, a nearby landmark, and turned it into a dance club, complete with lights and a DJ. Hardy and Gwen were the official hosts and chaperones, as well as four other couples. He had rented rooms for them, as well as the bridal suite for himself. Greg and Hildy were going home to their house, the farmhouse they had renovated. Joshua escorted Daisy home, and spent the night, sleeping in the same bed with someone else, the first time in over thirty years either had done so. The kids had a ball, and kept the floor full until two thirty. Most had rooms reserved with the families, but a few, including Melissa, decided to go home. Gwen objected. "No one will be there, I hate to think you'll be alone." Melissa was looking down and blushing furiously. "Uh, Mom, I won't be alone." Realization hit, and Gwen gave the small look a woman gives when she understands her daughter is no longer a child. "Be careful, honey, promise me." "We will Mom. I love you, and don't tell dad, okay?" She stood at the entrance watching as Jimmy pulled up and opened the door for Melissa, before heading back to the suite. As she walked she rubbed her tummy absently, wondering how many more will give her the heartbreak of watching them grow up and venture out in the world. ................................................. And now we're back to the start of our tale. ............................................... The little girl finally got her hair braided and bounced into the arms of the man who had just entered. "Grandpa, is Grandma a Yankee?" He looked at her, the light of his life for forty years, still a beautiful woman in his eyes. "Well, she was honey, but she got over it." ............................................... EPILOGUE Joshua died eighteen months later, but not before he got to hold his great grandsons, Joshua Hardy Wilkes and Gregory Canaday Wilkes in his arms. He said later it was the proudest moment of his life. Yes, Gwen had twin boys the first time out, followed by Annette Daisy Wilkes, named for Daisy and Hildy, whose real name was Annette. She never said how she got the nickname Hildy. Daisy passed shortly after Joshua, but not before she got to hang the portrait of Gwen and Melissa beside the one of her and her beloved sister Ginny. Marcus found her in a chair, facing the paintings. True to her feeling, she never got to attend another Cotillion. Marcus became instantly very wealthy and ended up marrying a girl he met in college. She was white, a Chapman, ironically, another cousin. They had four children. Gwen kept the maintenance up on her home, allowing the Daughters of the Confederacy to use it as a base. She would go every once in a while, when she was feeling old or missing Daisy, and sit beneath the portraits, remembering. Greg and Hildy moved to Boston, but after one winter they were back to stay. He settled down to raising Highland cattle, becoming one of the foremost breeders in the country. Hildy discovered a passion for horses, and her Arabians were considered some of the best to be found. He passed at seventy five. Hildy lived another dozen years, but most of the sparkle was gone from her eyes. She said before she passed that her greatest comfort was knowing that Gwen had taken her place, and that the family was in good hands. Gwen and Hardy lived in Birmingham for eight years before they both retired to the farm. They stayed because Gwen spent two terms as District Attorney and one as a Circuit Court judge. Guess Paul was right. J.T. passed, quietly. Will Rob said it was the first thing he ever did quietly. Will Rob finally retired after two more terms as sheriff, and he gave Gwen the framed news article and the tanned snakeskin. Allen Hovis was in jail three years, wearing the bitch tag of an hispanic gang, before he was found with his head in a toilet, drowned. Vincente Escobar disappeared during a cartel war. He was never seen again, although rumors persisted for years he was living in Italy with his family. Anne Burnside retired with full honors, and married, a beautiful woman named Victoria, and they run a resort in the Bahamas. She seems happy with her life, although occasionally she will see a blonde couple at the resort and indulge in a daydream. Melissa Sue Wilkes attended Alabama, and took her law degree at Harvard. Joshua joined the Army and made it a career. Greg studied law, but ended up entering a seminary and becoming a Baptist minister. Annette Daisy married badly, twice, before finding a good man. They've been together ten years. Roy miscalculated and ended doing ten years. June bug graduated while he was incarcerated. When his family needed something, a cousin was always available. Hardy and Gwen paid their living expenses until he got out. By then, he retired, draws a check, and laughs at the world. Hardy and Gwen? They love each other madly, and spend their days in harmony. Gwen is is the undisputed matriarch of the family, helping them wherever she can. Many went on to college on mysterious scholarships and grants. The Sunday dinners have become legendary. This really is...the end. .............................................. Oops. Not quite. I already have a series about Melissa Sue plotted out, but it will be a little while, got too much going on right now. Thanks for reading.