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Ice Heart Ch. 01

By: JimBob44



*Disclaimer: Any persons engaging in any sexual activity are eighteen years of age or older.

Chapter 1

Cris Dumas was completely unprepared for Ann Marie's haughty announcement that 'while she still loved him, she just wasn't IN love with him.'

"I think we need some time apart," she declared. "You know? Just a little space. Why don't you move into the guest room and..."

Eighteen, nearly nineteen years of marriage, wiped out with that simple statement.

Numbly, he agreed to try the new living arrangement. After all, she assured him, it was only for a short while, then they'd talk and see where they wanted to go from there.

"And he eats pussy like you wouldn't believe...." He overheard her giggling into her cell phone.

So, not only was she 'not in love with him,' but she already had another lover.

Angrily he packed everything and, instead of moving into the guest bedroom, stormed out of the four bedrooms, three bathroom house and slammed the door.

"I swear to God, if I've told him once, 'don't slam the damned door,' but you know how men are, they never listen," Ann Marie laughed to her college friend, Vickie Mouton. "Wonder where he's going?"

****

EconoLodge on Pinhook rented rooms by the night, or by the week. Cris booked the room for one week, took the key and let himself into the dingy, smelly room. Obviously the last occupant had been a heavy smoker; the smell of cigarettes was thick, hanging in the air.

"Jim, hey, this is Cris," he said wearily. "Cris Dumas from the DeGarde office?"

"I know who it is, you dumb coon ass," Jim Miller, the head of PPEDI's legal department laughed. "What you got?"

Why had he left? He was the sole breadwinner for the years they'd been married. It was his house; she'd never made one payment on the mortgage. 

And he hated the monstrosity of a house. Four bedrooms; there were only three people living there. For the seven years they'd lived there, one bedroom had been empty. Ann Marie used the closet in that room, as well as the closet in the guest bedroom. They had a guest bedroom, but Cris couldn't say when they'd ever had an overnight guest. But Ann Marie had wanted the house so they bought the house.

The yard took hours of work and Cris was often exhausted afterward, but refused to hire a yard man. It wouldn't have taken so long if there had been just a yard, maybe a couple of trees, but there were several little 'areas' in the yard, a clump of shrubs here, a patch of flowers there, an ornamental statue in the corner. All of this made it impossible to use a riding lawnmower, so Cris had to grunt and groan and sweat and push a regular lawn mower. Ann Marie and Nicole could be counted on to not help at all; the only time either one of them wanted to sweat was when it involved an activity THEY were interested in, mainly at the country club.

"Actually, Cris, this is beautiful," Jim laughed lightly. "You pay all the bills? Charge her rent until the divorce; you ARE going to file for a divorce, right?"

Cris felt a large weight settle in the pit of his flabby stomach. He had not even thought of divorce.

Looking in the dingy, smeared mirror of the motel's poorly lighted bathroom, he didn't like what he saw.

He used to be a muscular young man with a healthy tan and wide smiles. He used to have a full head of brown hair and lively brown eyes. When had he become a flabby, balding, ashen-faced old man? He was only forty years old; Ann Marie had thrown him a huge birthday party filled with all of their friends. All of HER friends; he didn't think a single one of those people in their back yard gave a hoot about him. Except for Sweet William and Sandra; and he had to remind Ann Marie to invite them. 

He wondered if she had already been cheating on him with Mr. Pussy Eater at that time, if Mr. Pussy Eater had been at their party.

He wondered if their daughter missed him, if Nicole was asking her mother where Daddy was.

Probably not, he sighed. Somewhere around the same time that he'd slipped into being the unattractive blob he saw in the mirror, she slipped from adoring her Daddy to tolerating him. As long as he paid the car note and insurance and the West Bayou Country Club dues and tennis lessons, Nicole tolerated him.

He wondered if Hank and Sophia Campion, hiss were celebrating. It had taken nineteen years, nineteen years of barely concealed disdain to drag their precious little girl out of his loving embrace. They had money; he had to work for every dime he had. And Ann Marie spent every dime too.

The mattress reeked of cigarette smoke, as did the pillows. He sighed heavily; he'd forgotten to take his toupee off.

He got out of bed, found the stand for it and carefully worked it loose, then put in on the stand and then got back into bed.

Sleep did not come. He lay in bed imagining his beautiful wife naked, an unknown man's head between her legs. He imagined his beautiful wife taking another man's erection into her mouth, something she had been quite good at before Mikey's death.

When Mikey didn't wake up that morning that was the beginning of the end for him. Ann Marie had been absolutely devastated when the infant did not respond to her screams. Four year old Nicole stood in the doorway and sobbed over the loss of her baby brother.

After that, they rarely made love any more and Ann Marie insisted on condoms, unwilling to risk pregnancy again, unwilling to risk losing another baby to SIDS.

"That's when it happened," he said aloud. "That's when I got lost."

He looked at the bedside clock. Ten forty one.

"But it changes now," he decided. "Ten forty one, I'm going to change my life."

Chapter 2

She rolled over languidly. Last night had been the first time in several years she had slept alone and it felt great. She had never noticed before how badly Cris snored, how much he tossed and turned before the intolerable snoring began, and how much he passed gas while in their bed.

"Where's Daddy?" Nicole petulantly asked at the breakfast table.

"Work, why?" Ann Marie asked.

"'Cause!" Nicole stomped her foot. "I need to pay Cindy!"

Cindy was Nicole's tennis coach.

"Well, call him at the office; I'm sure he just forgot," Ann Marie said lightly. "Oops, Momma's got an appointment, running late."

****

Waking up wasn't that hard for him; he'd not fallen asleep.

Showering in the motel bathroom was a dismal effort; the water was lukewarm and barely dribbled out of the rusted faucet. The cheap shampoo and conditioner provided by the motel, along with the harsh soap left him feeling like he needed another shower.

The cheap iron provided by the motel looked dubious at best; he decided on a shirt that did not look too badly wrinkled and dressed for the day ahead.

Jim had told him what to do and that was going to get his full attention today.

****

Tom Sampo. Just the name sounded good, masculine. Ann Marie smiled as Tom Teed off and drove the ball two hundred and seventy yards down the fairway.

That's how they met; Daddy and Momma and she had wanted to play eighteen holes but it just wasn't much fun as a threesome. Mr. Trapani, Daddy's friend and financial backer had called them at the last minute, saying he couldn't make it.

"Be happy to join y'all," he smiled and stuck out his hand to Hank. "Tom. Tom Sampo."

The men shared a cart but Tom still found ways to touch Ann Marie when they were standing around. At first she thought it might have just been accidental, but he smiled his wicked little smile at her, causing her to blush.

At the nineteenth hole he touched her often, 'innocent' little touches, nothing inappropriate.

"So, Tom, you're in investments?" Hank asked as the liquor flowed.

"Yep, it's the fool that works for his money rather than making his money work for him," Tom smiled and launched into a detailed explanation of what venture investments he was orchestrating.

"Hope I see a lot more of you," he whispered in her ear as they prepared to leave.

****

The next time she saw him at the country club he wasted no time and soon she was in his Mercedes, driving to his house in Church Point. She was suitably impressed with his two hundred year old home and even more impressed with the Louis the Fourteenth bedroom suite on the second floor.

"No, no, this is all for you," he whispered in her ear as she cupped his heavy balls in her small hand.

"Oh my God!" she screamed as he tongue fucked her pussy to orgasm, then continued to lick and suck her juices from her slit.

"No more, no more," she weakly begged as he pummeled her clitoris with his tongue.

"Ah!" she gasped out as he wormed his so very talented tongue into her anus then pumped it in and out of her back door.

"Oh yeah," he crooned as she worked his fat cock into her mouth and down her throat.

"Like riding a bicycle," she though to herself. "Been a while since I sucked Cris' dick, but you never forget how."

She did feel a pang of guilt when she saw Nicole's car at the club, but the guilt went away when Tom crooned more loving words into her ear.

Most of the men at the West Bayou Country Club respected the fact that she was married to some unseen husband and refrained from making advances. The others refrained because she was Hank Campion's daughter.

When she asked Tom about that, he shrugged and smiled his wicked little smile.

"I saw something I wanted," he said. "When I see something I want, I go after it and don't give up until I get it."

Again, she had pangs of guilt when she looked at her tired husband across the dinner table. She'd never cheated on him before. Of course she'd been tempted, but had never pursued it.

The pangs eased as she listened to yet another boring litany of complaints from her husband; his job was hard, the bills were high, the yard needed more work.

****

Cris smiled wearily as Sandra brought him another cup of coffee.

"Caffeine's bad for your prostrate," she murmured.

"How you know; you got one?" he asked, his stock response whenever she said that.

"Did, before the operation," she teased and left the office.

A few more clicks and Cris finished canceling the last of the credit cards.

"Yeah, it sucks, but even though you're the only one working, she's still entitled to fifty percent of everything," Jim had said.

The country club hemmed and hawed until Cris reminded them that his father was Hank Campion, then agreed to refund the remainder of his dues.

"That little son of a bitch," Hank snapped when Tim Velleaux, the President of the country club called to inform him of the cancellation.

"I am sure Mrs. Dumas and Nicole would be interested in continuing their memberships?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, yeah, just call Ann Marie," Hank said.

Ann Marie was highly embarrassed when the manager called her Cell phone, right in front of Tom. The waitress brought them their screwdrivers and Tom smiled at her and signed the voucher.

"Honey, just have to call him, straightens something out," she said lightly and hit Cris' office on the speed dial.

"Did you really cancel our membership?" she hissed into the mouthpiece, turning slightly away from Tom.

"Saw no reason to continue," he said easily. "I don't use it, I don't see why I should have to pay for it. You want to use it, you pay for it. Or get your daddy to pay for it."

"But what about Nicole?" she hissed into the phone.

"Hey you know what?" Cris asked. "She's a student; she can go under your membership."

"You are going to pay for this," she spat into the telephone and was even more outraged when he laughed at her and hung up on her.

Sandra looked in at her boss when she heard him sobbing. Softly, she walked in and put her hand on his shaking shoulder, then held him as he clung to her waist and sobbed openly.

****

"Hey beautiful, there a problem?" Tom asked as a pale faced Ann Marie stood at the registration table.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Dumas," the older woman politely said as her American Express card was rejected.

"Really, I don't understand," Ann Marie stammered.

"Put her and her, Nicole, right? Your daughter, Nicole? Put Mrs. Dumas and Nicole on my application," Tom magnanimously said.

"Damn it," Ann Marie said as she remembered that Cindy had to be paid as well. "Can I write you a check for Cindy's fees?"

"Um, yes ma'am," the older woman cautiously agreed. "There is a thirty five dollar NSF charge for checks that come back."

"There's money in the account," Ann Marie said through clenched teeth.

There was half of what money had been there at ten forty one the night before. 

The certificates of deposit had been in his name only, with Ann Marie as beneficiary, so it was no trouble to switch Nicole's name for Ann Marie's name on those.

"I'm sorry," the manager smiled tightly as Cris finished up the transactions.

Cris looked at the man and saw that the man had a pretty good idea of what was happening. He'd seen it before.

"Thanks," Cris smiled wearily. "Just found out yesterday; being traded in."

"Where would you like your statements sent?" the manager asked. "Are you still residing at..."

Cris gave the man his office address and smiled in gratitude. He'd not thought of that and wondered what other information he would have to retrace.

****

"Oh, you're a bad boy," Ann Marie groaned as Tom lapped persistently at her anus.

"Uh huh, going to be even badder when I stick Mr. Happy up there," Tom smiled and raised himself up slightly to feast on her hairy pussy.

"Uh uh!" Ann Marie laughed out loud. "You are not sticking anything up there!"

He wormed his way up to her large breasts and tongued her small nipples avidly before finally kissing her mouth.

"Mmph!" she groaned as he sank his cock into her pussy.

"Yep, going to stick my cock in your hot little ass, stretch your little hole all out of shape," he whispered in her ear as he slowly worked his cock in and out of her.

"No," she moaned. "It'll hurt!"

"Yeah it will," he promised. "And you're going to love it."

"No," she protested weakly as he pushed his cock into her and held it.

"Ah!" she screamed out as she orgasmed.

"And if you get your poop on it, I'll probably wipe it off on your panties," he suggested.

"Shut up!" she laughed. "That's so nasty!"

Too late she remembered that she wasn't on any birth control, but then laughed through her orgasm; it would really service Cris right if she got pregnant.

****

"Boss man, you look like shit," Sweet William said, sticking his head into Cris' office. "I mean, more than you usually do."

"Yeah, well, found out my marriage is over," Cris admitted.

Sweet William was a large black man, six foot eight, close to three hundred and forty pounds. He was an imposing figure; few would suspect he was a loving and loyal friend.

"Aw, man, no shit?" Sweet William asked. "Boss man, I'm real sorry to hear that; Ann Marie was a real sweetie pie."

"Yeah, well, she found someone else to be all sweetie pie with," Cris admitted.

"Want me to go have me a talk with him?" Sweet William asked.

"As much fun as that sounds, no, no, going to just let the lawyers have at it," Cris shrugged.

"So you going to be hitting the clubs, huh?" Sweet William smiled, trying to make light of the situation.

"Yeah, thank the babes be all up in my shit?" Cris asked, playing along.

Sweet William laughed.

"Man, don't be trying to talk all ghetto; you too damned white for that shit," Sweet William laughed. "But yeah, I can see the babes all up in your shit. When you lose that rug; mother fucker ain't fooling nobody. Oh, and get you some new threads; them you got on look like Goodwill don't want them neither."

"What?" Cris asked, surprised.

"Lose the hairpiece, get some new clothes, forgot you super-white, got to translate everything for you," Sweet William said.

"Wait, what's wrong with the clothes I got?" Cris asked.

"Nothing man, if you eighty, them clothes look good down at the retirement home," Sweet William said. "Man, I ain't telling you you got to go all out, but at least try to get something new, you know?"

"Sandra, get in here," Cris called out.

"Yeah?" Sandra asked, giving Sweet William an affectionate, playful nudge with her hip as she walked past him.

"This rough neck says I need some new clothes," Cris said.

"And told him lose the piece too," Sweet William said.

"Yeah? And?" Sandra asked.

"Huh," Cris said. "You think I need some new clothes too?"

"And lose the..." Sweet William said.

"Shut up, Sweet William," Cris said.

"And lose the hairpiece," Sandra echoed. "Looks like crap."

****

Am Marie was indignant when she hung up the telephone. The bank had verified that , yes, there was enough money to cover Nicole's tennis lesson, but not much more than that.

"That just can't be right," she fumed and stomped upstairs to dig out last month's bank statement.

The closet door was ajar; she'd not closed it after she'd dressed that morning. She flung it open to get into the file cabinet where Cris kept all of their important documents; he was so anal about everything.

It was empty.

She looked at the miniscule area she afforded him in their bedroom closet and noticed, for the first time, all of his clothes were gone.

She flung open the one drawer she let him have in their dresser and saw that it was empty.

Marching down the hall, she flung open the door to the guest bedroom. The bed had not been disturbed. She looked in the drawers. Her sweaters that she didn't like any longer were in the top drawer; the jeans that didn't fit her any longer were in the next two drawers; her swimsuits were in the bottom drawer. The closet held more of her clothes, but there were none of his clothes.

She sat down on the bed, hard. He wasn't supposed to leave. He was just supposed to leave their bedroom so she didn't have to feel guilty whenever she looked at him.

Several moments passed before she moved again. She went downstairs and dug her cell phone out of her purse. She almost laughed when she noticed how badly her hands were shaking.

****

Cris, my man, hope you're sitting down," Jim said sadly.

"Sitting, all I ever do," Cris said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Pictures, times, got her boyfriend's address; he's renting a house out in Church Point," Jim said quietly. "They weren't being very discrete about it. Lynne said it was the easiest job she's ever done; they damned near posed for the pictures."

"Well, we already knew all of that, huh?" Cris asked.

"Yeah, but the judge is going to want proof, not just something you overheard her saying," Jim said. 

"So file already," Cris said.

"I can file, but I can't represent you; Louisiana's on the Napoleonic code and I don't have a license to practice in Louisiana," Jim said. "But I'm e-mailing you a list of lawyers, in fact three of them practice right there in Lafayette. Best one is Jennifer LaCombe, mean as a snake."

"Thanks," Cris said.

Moments later, the inside line rang, bypassing Sandra.

"Cris, Honey?" Ann Marie asked. 

"Yes, Ann Marie, Honey?" Cris asked, trying to will his voice to stop shaking.

The rage was building up inside of him; they hadn't even bothered to be discrete about the affair. If he was a betting man, he'd bet it was at the country club.

And right in front of his, their daughter.

Ann Marie could hear the anger in his voice.

"He knows," she thought to herself.

"Um, Honey, I thought you were going to um, you know, um sleep in the guest bedroom, until we could talk?" she asked.

"No, but hey, here's a great idea, why don't you have your boyfriend move in?" Cris asked. "I'm sure he'd love the guest room."

"Boyfriend?" An Marie bluffed, laughing nervously. "What boyfriend?"

"The one we got pictures of, you and him making out," Cris lied (He'd not seen any of the pictures.) "Oh, and that's a nice shot of his head between your legs; bet he's a great pussy eater, the look on your face says it all."


Ice Heart Ch. 01



She hung up the telephone and felt the sting of tears begin.

Chapter 3

Sweet William had suggested that he start walking.

"It a mile from here to Highway 19 and back," Sweet William said. "Bet I can run there and back before you even make it out the parking lot."

"Ain't a betting man, especially when I know I'm going to lose," Cris laughed.

Sweet William had scoffed when Cris asked about joining the local gym in DeGarde, or in Lafayette.

"Yeah, good place to go, if you looking for some hot dick," Sweet William said. "Man all them mother fuckers about is trying to get you some."

"Oh, then what am I supposed to do?" Cris asked.

"One. You do one push up tomorrow morning. Then you do one sit up, one crunch, then one squat," Sweet William said.

"One? I can do at least..." Cris Said.

"Then the next day, you do two. Two push ups, two sit ups, two crunches, and two squats," Sweet William said. "And then you do three, and four, and you don't stop until you at one hundred each, see? I know you can do eight, maybe even nine before you all falling out, but this way you build up stamina."

"Man, not only are you ugly, you smart too," Cris said.

"Uh huh, going back off-shore tomorrow, but I make sure Sandra keep an eye on you, make sure you ain't slacking off," Sweet William smiled and fondly shook Cris's hand. "I don't want to hear 'oh, my pussy hurts to much; can't we do this tomorrow?'"

"There ain't no tomorrow," Cris agreed.

The first time he tried walking the mile, he could barely make it back to the office and spent the rest of the day groaning. His suit was soaked through with sweat and his tie was ruined.

"Thank God; it was an ugly tie anyway," Sandra said.

He looked at his clothes again. For years now d picked his clothing off of the clearance racks, pinching pennies so that Ann Marie and Nicole could have more of the things they wanted. Any 'want' they had very quickly became a 'need.' Any needs he had came second.

"Hell of a lot of good that's done me," he thought.

He looked in his wallet; there was one credit card that was in his name and his name only. Norman James, the CEO of PPEDI had advised him to get one that would be for business expenses only.

"Sandra, get in here," he ordered.

"What?" she peevishly asked.

"You're taking me shopping," he ordered.

"For me?" she asked playfully. "Oh goody!"

"No, for me," he said, getting to his feet, groaning as he did.

"Aw, that's no fun," Sandra teased.

"Not supposed to be," Cris said, wincing as he walked.

****

"Where's Daddy?" Nicole asked.

Ann Marie looked up from her plate and stared at the girl. Cris had been gone for four days now, and other than her demand for Cindy's fees, Nicole hadn't mentioned Cris at all. She'd hoped Nicole would not even notice, and if she did notice, not ask.

"He uh," Ann Marie searched for the right words.

"'Cause I need to get my racket restrung," Nicole went on.

"Oh, for God's sake, just take mine," Ann Marie snapped.

She was relieved that Nicole did not really care where Daddy was, just cared where Daddy's wallet was, and was irritated that the girl didn't seem to care where her father was, where he had been for the past four days.

"Yeah right, Mom; yours is even worse than mine," Nicole scoffed. "Anyway, I already brought it down to Red's; they're doing it right now."

"Fine, fine, I'll call Daddy," Ann Marie sighed.

"Why? He'll be home soon, huh?" Nicole asked, looking at the clock. "Jambalaya's like his favorite, right?"

Ann Marie looked down at the plate; jambalaya was Cris's favorite. She had not even thought of that when she started making it. She had just looked at the clock, saw that she was running late (Tom had insisted on a repeat performance.) and started making jambalaya because it was quick and easy.

"No, Nicole, Daddy's not coming home tonight," Ann Marie admitted.

"Oh," Nicole shrugged and finished eating.

****

"Come on, Sandra, get real," Cris scoffed when she picked up a lime green pull over shirt.

"Not for work, silly, but look," Sandra said and held it up to him. "Brings out all the brown in your eyes, and hides all that gray in your hair."

"Your wife's right," the salesman smiled.

"She's not my..." Cris started to say.

"And you can wear this with jeans, or with khakis; what do you wear when you're not being a mean old boss?" Sandra went on.

"Jeans, I guess," Cris shrugged.

Not those bargain brands don't fit, huh?" Sandra asked.

"Well," Cris said.

"Here, oh, and I bet this red one would look good, too," Sandra said and added it to the few clothes Cris already held.

To the salesperson she said, "He needs a couple of suits; you be helping him; I'll get him a couple of casual things."

"Yes ma'am," the salesman smiled widely. "What kind of work you do?"

"Division manager for Pilot Petroleum," Cris admitted.

The salesman looked at Cris's shoddy suit and mangled footwear.

"Well, congratulations; when do you start?" he asked.

Over Sandra's amused laughter, Cris admitted "Twelve years now; shut up Sandra."

****

With no word of where she was going, or when she would be back, Nicole walked right past Ann Marie and exited the house. A moment later, Ann Marie heard the girl's car start up; it sounded a little 'off,' she better ask Cris to look at it.

He hadn't been home in four days, and other than that one phone call, she'd had no contact with him. He knew about the affair; she wondered how he had found out so quickly.

Guilt began to gnaw at her insides. Mommy and Daddy didn't like Cris, but he had been a good husband, a good provider. 

He'd started off as a rough neck, then became a mud logger. Three years into that, Benoit Hydraulics had lured him onto their staff and he excelled at his job. Then when Norman James started up Pilot Petroleum Exploration and Development Incorporated, he'd immediately offered the job of Division Manager to Cris Dumas, even though Cris did not have a college diploma.

Norman's instincts about Cris had been right; Cris worked long hours and ran a tight ship. Many of his crew did not mind the long hours and tight rein; they know that Cris was one of them. He had been a rough neck and a mud logger. He didn't have fancy pedigrees; he was just a hand that had climbed to the rank of manager.

She picked up her cell phone.

****

Tom drove his cock into the whining woman's bowels again. Sweat poured down her face even though the window unit was on full blast.

"Please," she whispered, knowing that her pain excited him.

"Please what?" he teased as her sphincter muscles clamped tightly around his fat cock.

"Please, come in my ass, shoot your hot come up my ass," she begged.

He began to thrust in earnest and she grunted and let a sob escape. When he bit down on her nipple, she howled in orgasm.

"Mother fucker," he cursed as his cell phone rang.

"Don't get it," she begged, but he was already pulling out of her ass.

"Hey baby, thinking about you, thinking about me?" Ann Marie whispered.

"You know it," he lied and stroked his cock.

"I was thinking, maybe I'd take a little ride out there, maybe even spend the night, what you think?" Ann Marie asked.

"Man, I'd love that, but damned electricity's out," Tom smiled as Cindy knelt down and took his slimy cock into her mouth. "No electricity, no A.C.; got any idea what this place is like right now?"

"Oh, baby!" Ann Marie crooned, then made a rash decision. "You need to come over here!"

"Be there in ten, no better give me thirty," he said.

"You're a son of a bitch," you know that?" Cindy said as she rubbed his semen into her skin.

"What?" he smiled as she got to her feet and reached for her clothes. "You weren't spending the night, were you?"

"No," she admitted.

"By the way, nice touch, shaving the pussy," he said and lightly kissed her on her lips.

"Did it for you," she admitted.

"What's your husband say about it?" he asked.

"Loves it," Cindy admitted. "Don't forget, you got a ten o'clock lesson and I don't like it when my members are late."

"Think I need to work on my backhand or my serve?" Tom asked as he walked to the bathroom.

****

He looked in the mirror and slowly pulled the toupee off. Cris hated the way he looked and almost put it back on. Steeling himself, he went to the door and opened it.

"Nice, nice," Sandra praised. "That shirt is definitely you, and it's nice to see the real you instead of that rug on your head."

She drove him to her hairdresser, an obviously gay man that had just opened his own Salon.

"You know, I'm really thinking we just do a buzz cut, maybe with a number three guard," Walter suggested. "I mean, seriously, we're not going to be giving you a perm, now are we?"

"You mean, just make it uniform all the way around?" Sandra asked.

"Exactly; no need to worry about bangs, huh?" Walter smiled and pulled Cris to the back for a vigorous shampooing. "By the way, love that shirt; where'd you get it?"

****

If Nicole heard the grunts and groans coming from her parents' room, she gave no indication of it. If she thought it odd that there was a strange man at the table, eating pancakes, she said nothing. Her only acknowledgement was a small nod when Ann Marie introduced the two of them.

"She's graduating in a few months,," Ann Marie said proudly.

"Hey, no kidding," Tom smiled widely. "College, right?"

Nicole regarded him for a long moment, then resumed eating.

"High School," Ann Marie answered for her daughter.

"Going to college?" Tom asked.

"Yeah," Nicole grunted.

"Best thing I did was take a year off between high school and college," Tom said. "Went from Florida to Canada, then cut across Canada to the west coast, stayed in California for a while."

"Uh huh," Nicole said and finished her breakfast.

"Don't tell her stuff like that!" Ann Marie hissed to him when Nicole slunk out of the kitchen.

"Hey, why not?" he asked and toyed with the sash to her robe. "Best thing I could have done; learned a lot more than I would have reading a bunch of books."

"Leave that alone," Ann Marie hissed. "Cris and I have been saving and saving for her to go to college and, damn it, leave that alone!"

"I ever tell you I like a hairy bush?" Tom asked, running a finger through her profusion of hair.

"No, your cock does," she giggled, slapping his hand away from her pussy.

"I need lunch money," Nicole said flatly, as if she had not seen this strange man playing with her mother's pussy.

"Here, how much you need?" Tom asked, peeling a couple of twenties off of his money clip.

"That's enough," Nicole said and accepted the money.

She did not say 'thank you,' just turned and left. A moment later, the front door slammed.

"Nice kid," Tom commented and made a grab for Ann Marie again.

"Stop that," Ann Marie squealed and struggled briefly as Tom hefted her onto her counter and began to kiss her hotly.

"No, Tom," she argued weakly as he drove his tongue into her drooling pussy.

****

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was looking for my Boss Man, Cris Dumb Ass, I mean Dumas, might have seen him, little white guy, dresses like shit, wears a big hairy vagina on top of his head," Sweet William said as he walked into Cris's office.

"Fuck you, Sweet William, what you want?" Cris smiled broadly.

"Oh no, I know he didn't just go out and get him some new threads and shit," Sweet William said and held out his hand for Cris.

"I hate to admit it, you ugly son of a bitch," Cris said and shook hands with the large man. "But you were right."

"I heard that," Sweet William laughed. "Man, you looking good!"

"Thanks, Sweet William," Cris said sincerely.

"So, getting you any?" Sweet William asked as he eased his bulk into a chair.

"Not really trying, know what I mean?" Cris said. "Man, I'm still all tied up over how could Ann Marie do this to me?"

"I understand," Sweet William agreed. "Sandra says you going to the lawyer's today; want me to go with you?"

"What, so I can tell them you my bitch?" Cris asked.

"Mother fucker, you couldn't handle me as your bitch," Sweet William laughed. "But I'd be the best piece of ass you ever had, you hear?"

"I know that's right," Cris laughed.

"Willie, you want some coffee?" Sandra asked as she put the inevitable cup down in front of Cris.

"Nah, but thank you," Sweet William smiled.

"You know, with you sitting down, I'm almost eye level with you," Sandra smiled.

"Sweet, I do appreciate you wanting to go with me, but no, thanks," Cris smiled and hurriedly drank the hot liquid.

****

Hank gritted his teeth as he listened to Ann Marie. He had hoped for this day for nearly as long as he'd known Cris Dumas, but instead of gloating, he was irritated. Instead of just disappearing, Cris was being a pain in the ass. Cris had the audacity to charge rent? Had the unmitigated gall to demand that his wife pay him rent and utilities? And where was Ann Marie supposed to get money?

"Fine, fine," he grunted. "How much you need, pumpkin?"

"Well, I don't know," Ann Marie admitted. "I'm not going to pay rent, that's just ridiculous, but I do need money for groceries, and Nicole needs..."

"I offered to take care of all of that," Tom butted in. "But Ann Marie insisted on being as independent as possible."

"Appreciate that," Hank said and slid a check for two thousand dollars over to Ann Marie.

****

Jennifer LaCombe looked over all the photographs and transcripts Lynne had been able to gather. She looked up at the haggard man and smiled sympathetically.

"Jim and I went to school together," she said. Rice? "Told him on more than one occasion, I am so glad he doesn't practice here in Louisiana; I'd hate to go up against him in a court of law."

"Said the same thing about you," Cris smiled. "Told me to tell you to stay the hell out of Texas."

Jennifer laughed and then grew serious.

"Love the idea of charging her rent," she said. "You won't get it. Unless the judge is drunk, or stupid. But it's still a nice touch. Makes them sweat a little, makes them overplay their hand a little."

"I also took out half the money that was in our savings account and checking account after I paid off the credit cards," Cris went on.

"See that," Jennifer agreed. I guess our next step is to file, have her served and go from there."

****

It was all so embarrassing; the man knocked at the door, asked for her, then thrust a sheaf of papers into her hand.

:You've been served," was his only comment, then he was gone and Nicole and Tom were standing there, looking at her.

Tom was so supportive; Nicole waited a moment, saw that it didn't inconvenience or benefit her and left the room.

The candles were a nice touch. Usually, their love-making was animalistic, but tonight, he was slow, tender. Then he held her while she cried herself to sleep.

In the morning, he helped her locate a good divorce lawyer and drove her to the man's office.

He was her rock in these trying times, her source of strength.

And Daddy agreed to pay the man's five thousand dollar retainer.

****

If he had any illusions about his role in Nicole's life, her appearance at the courthouse killed them.

"God, Dad, you're being such an ass hole," she sneered and sullenly slapped his mother's wedding ring into his hand.

He had requested the ring in the divorce settlement; it had been his mother's wedding ring, and her mother's before her. Judging from the rock Ann Marie now sported, she'd had no trouble replacing the small ring. Nicole had been wearing his mother's ring on her right hand, pinky finger.

He remembered Ann Marie's mother and his mother almost came to blows at the wedding when Sophia Campion made a snide comment about the 'chintzy thing' Cris had put on Ann Marie's finger.

The 'chintzy thing' may hold no sentimental value to Ann Marie, Sophia Campion, or Nicole, but it meant a great deal to Cris. It was a piece of his family's heritage; Hurricane Andrew in 1992 had killed nearly his entire family, including his mother and father.

He missed his mother and father terribly, but secretly he was glad they'd not lived to see what a spoiled, self-centered bitch their granddaughter had become.

When he had not received an invitation to her high school graduation, or her graduation party, a block of ice began to form around his heart.

When his card had been returned, with a note scrawled across it, 'you can't buy my love,' the ice had hardened.

But watching her hanging all over Tom Sampo, casting fawning looks at the smug, self-centered bastard, then her declaration of 'God Dad, you're being such an ass hole,' the ice had solidified.

Chapter 4

Cris did not gloat when the news traveled down the grapevine; he simply did not care.

He had not felt happy or sad when he saw the pictures of Ann Marie and Tom Sampo's wedding in the Daily Advertiser; he simply did not care.

The fact that Hank had rented the West Bayou Country Club facilities for the wedding of his daughter to the handsome, charismatic Tom Sampo, and had also paid eight thousand dollars for the baby blue wedding dress she wore made no impact on him; he simply did not care.

He read the rest of the headlines, then found the Sports section and read about the new coach for the University of Louisiana at Lafayette.

"Might actually win one or two games," he mused aloud.

So when Sandra told him that Tom Sampo had disappeared, and had taken all of Ann Marie's money, as well as Hank and Sophia's money, and a good chunk of Frank Trapani's money, he did not care. The fact that Ann Marie had put a second mortgage on the monstrosity he'd hated and was in danger of losing it did not affect him. When he heard that Ann Marie's car had been repossessed, along with Nicole's car (Tom had leased both lexuses and then never made a single payment) he simply shrugged. It was as if Sandra had said "I stepped on two cockroaches this morning." It meant that little to him.

The fact that Tom had abandoned Ann Marie in her eighth month of pregnancy didn't even bring a justified smile to his face.

"Huh," was all he said, then continued to look over the plots that Justin James had faxed to him.

****

"I'm sorry, sir," the gate attendant had smiled uncertainly. "This ticket is invalid."

"I'll go down to the counter and get this straightened out," Tom smiled to Cindy and playfully swatted her on her tight backside. "Be right back."

"Hurry," she implored. "They board in ten minutes."

"Don't worry," he smiled and briskly walked off.

"Stupid cunt," he laughed as he walked over to Gate twelve C and boarded the flight to France

Tom gave no thought to the tennis instructor, or his child that was growing in her womb as he eased into the plush seat of the first-class section. He gave no thought to Ann Marie, or her daughter Nicole, even though he'd told the eighteen year old girl he'd only married her mother to get close to her. He gave no thought at all to Hank Campion, who had told him to call him 'Dad.' 

He smiled his wicked little smile at the flight attendant and asked, in flawless Parisian French when they would be serving beverages.

****

Sophia suffered a massive stroke when Hank came to her and admitted what had come to them; the charming Tom Sampo had been nothing but a con artist and had swindled them out of their life's savings. Any money Hank had squirreled away now went to the mounting hospital bills. Finally stabilized, Sophia was transferred to UMC, Lafayette's charity hospital.

"Cris," Ann Marie had murmured to her father as they sat in the hallway of University Medical Center. "Cris might be able to help."

"You have got to be kidding me," Hank spat. "Why in the hell would he help us now? After all we done to him?"

"He's still Nicole's daddy," Ann Marie said. "You go see him? I, I'm too embarrassed."




Ice Heart Ch. 01



****

"Huh, never even thought of that," Cris admitted when Sherri Lambert pointed out the four-plex on the outskirts of DeGarde, in Bender, Louisiana.

He'd tired very quickly of the Econolodge and had rented a loft apartment behind the Office Depot on Johnson Street. It was Sandra that asked him why, if the office was in DeGarde, did he insist on living in Lafayette. 

Sherri Lambert and her husband were next door neighbors of Sandra and Sandra's husband, Jimmy. 

"Our kids play together, fight together, in fact, Paula says she's going to marry Little Jimmy," Sandra laughed. "Anyway, Sherri's trying her hand at being a real-estate agent. Told her to pick a job and stick with it, but can't tell her anything, give her a call."

The overweight woman came into Cris's office, sat down and asked him what he was looking for.

"My needs are pretty simple, really," he said and looked over as she spread her legs slightly.

Despite the nearly one hundred extra pounds Sherri Lambert carried, she was an attractive woman. He smiled encouragingly. She smiled cheekily and spread her legs a little wider.

"I got a feeling you and I are going to work very well together," she predicted.

The first house they looked at was empty; Scandurro Realtors had commissioned it as a 'speculation' home.

"Two bedrooms and two full baths," Sherri pointed out. "Gas stove in the kitchen, do you like eating pussy?"

Ann Marie's comment, the off-handed statement that had alerted him that his loving wife was unfaithful had spurred him into action. He had yanked the phone book out of the drawer and looked up 'Escort Services.'

Camille, he didn't care if that was her real name or not, showed up two hours later and knocked on the door of the motel room.

"So what you looking for?" she smiled sweetly as she fiddled with his shirt buttons.

"I want to learn how to eat pussy, how to do it right," he blurted out.

Camille was actually surprised at this; nearly all of her clients took one look at her forty two Double D breasts and wanted to play with them.

"Um, okay," she said, then launched into the spiel about the various services and their charges.

"So, two hundred for oral sex?" Cris asked.

"Um, yeah, but I tell you what, you going to want a blow job?" Camille asked.

"No, not really," Cris said.

"How about a hundred, huh?" Camille asked and shrugged out of her thong panties.

"Oh yeah," Camille groaned as Cris pressed his tongue to her bald pussy mound.

"No, no," Cris said, almost angry. "I want to learn how to do this right; I ain't going to learn shit if you acting like I'm doing it right already."

"Oh, okay," Camille said, comprehending.

She spent the better part of two hours showing him how to satisfy her.

"You want to practice, try taking a lifesaver's and stick your tongue into the little hole," she suggested as she took her three hundred dollars, one hundred as agreed on, plus a two hundred dollar tip.

The next night, Cris called a different service and they sent out a 'Toni.'

"You serious, right?" she asked suspiciously when he told her he just wanted to eat her pussy and wanted her to tell him if he was doing it right.

Camille had taught him well and Toni was actually smiling when she left his motel room.

"Yeah, I like eating pussy," Cris smiled. "You like anal?"

"Yeah, my husband's always saying I got the ass for it," Sherri laughed.

Camille had taught him well and Sherri thrashed and grunted through several orgasms before Cris got to his knees and liberally coated his dripping cock with the KY jelly that Sherri had in her purse.

"No, no, I like looking in your eyes when I'm pounding ass," Cris said when Sherri tried to roll over onto her knees.

"Oh I knew you and I was going to be friends," she laughed. "You one nasty mother fucker!"

"Oh now this is nice," Sherri said as she looked around the efficiency apartment. "There's two of them empty right now; what you could do is move the upstairs tenant down here, you know? Rent out the bottom half and convert the upstairs to a two bedroom two bath for yourself. That way, the two tenants would pay your mortgage for you."

"Like I told you when we first started looking, my needs are pretty simple," Cris smiled. "I think I'll leave it like it is, just live down here and rent out the other three; you said two of them are already rented?"

The room was actually spacious, sixteen by sixteen. There was a kitchen in one corner, with a built in table and two chairs , left behind by the last tenant. There was a small refrigerator, a small electric stove and oven combination, and a small counter. The sink was between the table and the counter, looking out a small window that overlooked the parking lot. The small bathroom was next to the kitchen. The closet went underneath the stairs that led to the second floor and also housed the air conditioning unit for both upstairs and downstairs units.

"Uh huh," Sherri smiled as she adjusted the blinds. "Want to see if this one's big enough for what you need?"

"What you got in mind?" Cris asked as he unzipped his trousers.

"Oh, you know I like that hot cock up my ass and ain't nobody eat pussy like you!" she laughed.

Cris had confided to Sandra what was going on; it concerned him that Sherri was a married woman after all.

"Well, I ain't letting her 'borrow' Jimmy no more," Sandra said through pursed lips. "Don't surprise me, though. Ronnie's like this little wimpy guy; does whatever Sherri tells him."

She just smiled tightly when Sherri confided in her that her boss was one good looking man and she was enjoying helping Cris find a place to call home.

Sherri was out of lubricant, so Cris sank his erection into her hot, wet pussy.

"Oh, mother fucker," Sherri screamed out loud. "I'd known you pounded pussy this good, you'd been fucking my box instead of my ass!"

"Bull shit," Cris laughed.

"Nah, hope I do get knocked up; about time Ronnie got off his fucking ass, did some shit around the house," Sherri laughed when Cris asked about using protection.

****

"Don't sit down; you ain't staying," Cris said when Hank Campion came into his office.

"Uh, yeah well um, listen, uh Cris," Hank stammered.

It was hard enough to come in and face the man he had loathed for twenty years; Cris's brusque statement really set him back.

"What you want, Hank?" Cris sighed and looked up from the ledger program on his computer screen.

"Well, as you know, Sophia, she had her a um a stroke and she's bedridden," Hank faltered.

Cris was really making him ill at ease, the way he just looked at him with that passive face.

"And?" Cris finally broke the heavy silence.

"And I uh, we ran into a bit of bad luck; she's at UMC and you know Sophia, rather be dead than at UMC," Hank laughed nervously.

Cris sighed heavily.

"Hank, I hope you ain't here to borrow no money," Cris said and returned his gaze to the screen. "Remember? Ann Marie already done got half of everything."

"Yeah, well, um, she and Nicole..." Hank mumbled.

"Ain't my problem," Cris said and typed on the keyboard. "They're both adults."

"I don't even know why I bothered coming here," Hank spat.

"I don't either," Cris agreed. "I was nothing to you when I was married to your daughter and I know damned good and well if I'd have come to you for any help, any help at all, you'd have laughed in my face."

Hank mumbled curses at Cris and anyone that came in contact with Cris as he wobbled out of the office. Cris watched him and wondered if Hank had fallen off the wagon again; he struck him as being slightly under the influence.

He shrugged his shoulders and completed his entries into the ledger, saved his work, then began to unknot his tie.

"That your father?" Sandra asked from the doorway as Cris prepared to dress for his noontime jog.

"Uh uh, he's nobody," Cris said and stretched a few times.

Sandra watched with mild amusement. He had really dropped the pounds and firmed up nicely. Even through the bulky sweat suit, she could see his bulging biceps and chest. His abdomen had slimmed down as well. Playfully, she swatted him on his tight buttocks as he walked past her. She yelped in surprise when he swatted her in return.

"By the way, Sherri says 'hi,'" Sandra said.

"Yeah? How's she doing in, insurance, right?" Cris smiled as he reached the door to the reception area.

"Yeah, I think she might actually do pretty good with the insurance thing," Sandra agreed as she sat back down at the receptionist's desk.

"Good, good, tell her I said 'hi,'" Cris said and pushed open the door and braced himself against the bitter February wind.

****

As if she knew she was being a burden on her husband and daughter and granddaughter, Sophia died that afternoon.

"I hope you're fucking happy, prick," Hank sobbed into the telephone. "Sophia died this afternoon."

"In order to be happy, Hank, I'd have to give a shit about her," Cris said. "But thanks for calling."

Hank was stunned at Cris's callous response. Ann Marie was actually shocked when Hank finally was able to choke out what Cris had said.

"That doesn't sound anything like him," she gasped. "You sure that's what he said?"

Her mother's death was just another domino falling. 

When she had fallen in love with Tom, she truly believed that they were building a life together, a life that had all the amenities she desired. Cris had been a good husband, a good provider, but he had not been very exciting of late.

She was able to trade in her Lincoln Continental; it was three years old, and pick up a very pretty Lexus. Tom handled all the paperwork while she and Nicole looked at a smaller model for Nicole. 

In the divorce settlement, she agreed to the house in order to leave Cris's 401K plan alone. Jewelry, Rolex watches, designer clothing, all taken care of by Tom. 

Then there was the fourteen day cruise; he even brought her parents and Nicole along and everyone was so thrilled to hear about the upcoming baby.

She watched in mild interest as Tim Villeaux entered the dining room and scanned the room of patrons. The man was barely five feet tall; she always thought he was such a funny looking little man. His eyes locked on her and he waddled toward her, his normally pinched features looking even more pinched.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Sampo, really I am," he whispered to her.

"But, but," she stammered, uncomprehending.

This was her home, she had grown up here, how could this man, a man her father owned be telling her to leave, that she was no longer a guest of the West Bayou Country Club?

Cindy's earlier message about canceling Nicole's lesson became a little clearer as well. Cindy had been flustered while trying to explain to her that she was canceling Nicole's lessons, not just today's lesson.

Tom did not answer his cell phone, and when she called his office phone, she got the mechanical recording that announced that it was either temporarily out of service or had been disconnected.

Her Cell phone rang and she breathed a sigh of relief; Tom could straighten this out. But instead, it was Nicole.

She was infuriated with Nicole; she had decided to take Tom's advice and 'experience life' before going off to college. So far, however, Nicole's idea of 'experiencing life' was to lay around the house all day in very skimpy, or tight, or revealing clothing, and bend and stretch and pose in front of her new stepfather.

"My car's been stolen!" Nicole shrilled.

"What?" Ann Marie shrilled back. "Are you sure? Where are you? What happened?"

"I went in and got me some new shoes, mine were getting all ratty and when I came back, it was gone,' Nicole was sobbing now.

"Then what are you calling me for? Call the police!" Ann Marie screamed into the phone.

"Don't yell at me!" Nicole sobbed all the harder.

Ann Marie ferreted from Nicole where she was, instructed the girl to call the police and said she would be there as soon as she could.

"Come on, Tom, damn it, pick up," Ann Marie hissed into the telephone.

But again, she got his infuriating voice mail.

The police were there and Ann Marie pursed her lips; Nicole was wearing the cut-off shorts she'd begged the girl to throw out; they were obscene. The African-American police officer was enjoying the many glimpses he was afforded; Nicole's top was too small as well.

"Yes ma'am, seems Giles repoed it," the other police officer said.

"Repo, what?" Ann Marie gasped, shocked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes ma'am, called it in to get the VIN, the vehicle identification number, and that's when they told us it was sitting on their lot," Officer Ray Holloway informed her.

"Well, this is ridiculous," Ann Marie said and yanked Nicole into the car.

"God damn, Nicole, dressed like a hooker!" Ann Marie screamed at the girl as they drove toward the car lot.

"What?" Nicole screamed back. "I was just going to get me some shoes, didn't see no reason to get all dressed up!"

"Ah, thank you, Mrs. Sampo; see you got my message," John Hargroder smiled as Ann Marie stormed into the sales office, Nicole in tow. "Thank you for bringing your car in; I trust you've gotten all of your personal effects out of it?"

Ann Marie had to sit down; John was very courteous to both mother and daughter but was unmoved by their tears. A quick check of her bank account revealed that she did not even have enough to pay off the three months they were delinquent on the leases.

"But that can't be," Ann Marie stammered, ashen. "We just did a second mortgage and... This is ridiculous; let me talk to them."

The manager was very apologetic but there was nothing he could do; Tom Sampo and his wife had been there that very morning and closed out all accounts.

"Wife?" Ann Marie shrilled into the telephone. "But I'M his wife!"

"I am terribly sorry, ma'am, but there really is nothing I can do," the manager said. "The accounts were in his name, or your name. Now, if they had been in your name AND his name, then..."

It was a last resort; she paused for a moment, then reflected to herself, it wasn't like Nicole had any plans to use her college fund.

She and Cris had carefully planned and put nearly every extra penny into the college fund. When Mikey was born, Cris had asked Benoit Hydraulics for a raise, and every penny of that raise went into the children's college fund. Then when Mikey died, the two hundred dollars had been transferred to Nicole's account. There would be nearly twenty nine thousand in that account now. Cris was such a careful planner and often did without so that his child's future was secure.

The manager was sympathetic but Nicole, with Tom Sampo's help, had withdrawn that money last month. Nicole shrank away from her mother's anger.

"So that's it," Ann Marie said aloud as she hung up the telephone.

The dominoes were falling.

Her mother's death was just another domino.

The funeral was as elegant an affair as someone of Sophia's stature would command. Thankfully, Hank and Sophia had already paid for their funerals, and Tom had not managed to get either Sophia's or Hank's life insurance policies.

Ann Marie touched the floral arrangement; Cris was a good man, sending flowers like that.

The End.



Ice Heart Ch. 02



*Disclaimer: Any and all persons engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age or older.

Chapter 5

Cris ignored the 'Thank You' card that Hank sent, thanking him for the flowers. He had not sent any flowers and figured the man was trying, quite unsuccessfully, to make him feel guilty for the omission.

He remembered the quite cheap floral arrangement Hank and Sophia had sent to his parents' funeral. The man was a millionaire and certainly could have afforded to fill the small funeral home with flowers, but instead sent a very cheap, almost gaudy arrangement. But Cris had bit back his anger and sent the man a 'Thank You' card. There had been no acknowledgement of that card, but Cris had not expected one.

He tossed Hank's card into the wastebasket and continued to pore through the mail that Sandra had stacked on his desk.

****

Nicole breathed a sigh of relief; her period had come.

The first few times she and Tom had made love, he wore a condom.

"You know what?" he whispered into her ear. "I hope your mother does catch us; I hope she does find out about our love for each other."

She groaned as he drove his cock in and out of her; the thought of Mom coming up the stairs and bursting into her room was so exciting.

"I bet if you got pregnant, she'd have to see it, I bet she couldn't ignore it then," Tom whispered into her ear.

"Do it," she groaned and he quickly pulled out of her tight pussy and pulled the condom off.

"O fuck yeah," he laughed as he drove himself back into her tight pussy.

But, thankfully, she was not pregnant. She saw now that Tom had not loved her, or loved her mother. He had used them, and used Grandpa and Grandma.

She stuck a tampon in, washed her hands and left the bathroom. Her mother, her poor mother looked so haggard, so beaten. 

Ann Marie looked up as Nicole entered the room and tried to force a smile to her face. Then a contraction hit and she gasped.

Father and daughter comforted Ann Marie as they drove to University Medical Center. UMC, the same building that her mother had died in.

She had not wanted to give birth in the charity hospital, had planned on giving birth at Women's and Children's Hospital, the same hospital that Nicole and Mikey had been born in and Tom had promised her that. 

When he skipped out on her, when the full extent of his deception had been revealed, she took the jewelry he'd given her and pawned it all.

The two and a half carat ring had turned out to be nothing but glass, however. The metal itself wasn't even gold. She discovered that when she took it to the jeweler's whose box it had been in.

"Yeah, we sell them boxes all the time," the man smiled sympathetically. "But that's not our ring; it's not even real gold."

"But it didn't turn my finger," she had argued with the jeweler.

"Uh huh," he shrugged and showed her the traces of clear fingernail polish.

Sophia Marie Campion was a beautiful little blonde, six pounds, nine ounces. Later on, she would develop her father's wicked little smile.

****

Cris stood in line at the After-Hours registration at the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. Obviously there were several people interested in learning to cook authentic Cajun dishes. He knew most of the basics; years of watching his mother cook had given him that. But there were some dishes she used to cook that he hadn't had since her death. Plus that, it would be a good way to get out, meet women.

It had been a while since Sherri had stopped by; she was experiencing some complications in her pregnancy so her mobility was limited. From some of the sidelong glances he was getting, he would not have any problem finding a replacement for Sherri.

Another table caught his attention; there was no one at the table at the moment and there was just a crudely hand printed sign taped to the wall behind the table to give any indication of what class was being offered.

"Motorcycle Maintenance."

He had wanted a motorcycle when he was younger; his older cousin Terry had bought one. But Terry had been careless and reckless and had been killed when he tried to beat a semi to an intersection. His mother and father used that as justification to deny him the coveted motorcycle.

Then when he got older, marriage and parenthood had denied him the motorcycle again and he had completely forgotten about it.

As he stood, looking at the few brochures on the table, a young woman sauntered over and took the seat behind the table. She wore tight blue jeans tucked into boots and a leather vest, unbuttoned; her smallish breasts threatening to slip into view. Cris saw a gold chain that dangled between her breasts, but did not see a gold chain around her neck. She actually sneered at him as he looked at her.

"Unless you can eat pussy as good as my girlfriend, fuck off, old man," she said.

"I got to eat your pussy to learn motorcycle maintenance?" Cris asked, unperturbed by her rudeness.

"Huh? Oh no, no, sorry, I'm just so used to old fuckers trying to pick me up," she apologized and scurried to get the sign-up sheet out. 

"Well, don't advertise if it ain't for sale," Cris suggested, looking at the brochure.

"I got a fucking right dress any way I fucking want to," she spat at him.

"Uh huh, and I got a right to think it's for sale if there's a billboard out," he said.

"So what kind of bike you got?" she asked, remembering why she was there.

"None at this moment," he admitted.

"Going to be kind of hard to learn how to take care of it if you ain't got it, huh?" she sneered.

"But I am looking," he said.

"Oh, my old man's got one he's looking to sell; want to see it?" she asked.

The BMW roared to life and April smirked as he got on behind her. At five feet two inches, she was barely tall enough to pull the bike upright, but she did and stomped it into gear.

"Watch the hands, old man," she warned as he put his arms around her

The motorcycle was a 1949 Indian Chief, twelve hundred cubic centimeters of power. Cris looked at the grossly overweight man as he pushed his wheelchair out to where April and Cris stood. 

"That there's a piece of American history," the bearded man said, pointing to the motorcycle.

"What you asking?" Cris asked.

"Fifteen thousand," the man said and lovingly touched the rubber grip of the throttle.

"It run?" Cris asked.

"Nah, but got them all original parts! Except the seat and the rubber." The man said, pointing to a box in the corner of the garage.

"Twelve five, cash," Cris said.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," the man grumbled then smiled wistfully. "Hadn't broken my neck you could kiss my pasty white ass you wanted to get this bike, for any price."

"How'd you break your neck?" Cris asked.

"Deer hunting fell out the deer stand, landed on my head, "the man said.

"Damn, that's rough," Cris said.

The man looked at Cris, nodded in appreciation of Cris not pretending the wheelchair was invisible or that he wasn't handicapped.

"Yeah, well, shit happens," the man said and shrugged. "Thank God I got this bitch taking care of me."

"Uh huh, quit calling me 'bitch,'" April said, no rancor in her voice.

"So what's your old man think of you and your girlfriend?" Cris asked when April brought him back to his automobile, an ugly nondescript company car.

"No girlfriend; I just say that shit scare off dumb asses trying to get in my pants," she admitted.

"Uh huh, suppose I'm trying to get in your pants?" Cris smiled and unlocked the door to his car.

"You can try," April said, pointedly giving him a top to bottom glance. "Don't think you'll get anywhere, but you can try. Class starts seven thirty, Tuesdays and Thursdays until nine thirty. Remember how to get to my trailer?"

"Uh huh," Cris smiled and got in his car.

****

"Thank you!" Ann Marie's voice bubbled through the phone. "That was so sweet of you."

Cris was surprised when the inside line had rung; very few people knew the number. He did not hesitate to answer it; it might be one of the rigs, or the home office.

"What?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"

"The brush and comb set, and it came in that pretty silver box," Ann Marie bubbled on

"Ann Marie, I don't have a clue what you're talking about," Cris said. "There is no way in God damned hell I would send you anything and please, do me a big favor. Don't ever call me again. Ever, is that clear?"

He hung up before she could respond and looked at the doorway of his office.

"Sandra!" he bellowed.

"Uh huh?" she asked, standing in the doorway.

"Did you send a brush and comb to Ann Marie and put my name on it?" Cris asked.

Sandra looked at his dark mask and realized that it may not have been the wisest thing she'd ever done. But she also knew better than to lie to him about it.

"Yes I did; it was for her baby. I thought you'd want to do something nice for her. She was your wife for almost nineteen years, Cris," Sandra said.

"WAS. Was my wife," Cris said, fists clenched in hardly controlled rage. "Sandra, don't ever, ever do that again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," Sandra whispered, frightened for the first time in her thirteen years of working with Cris Dumas.

****

Nicole did not look at her mother; crying was a normal occurrence in the apartment they shared. If Sophia wasn't crying, wanting a bottle, or wanting her diaper changed, or just wanting to be held, Ann Marie was crying. Ann Marie cried out of exhaustion; Sophia was up at all hours of the day and night, or from self-pity.

Her cell phone chirped and she smiled; it was Zack. She'd met him at the hospital; he was doing community service and she'd run into him as she was leaving the maternity ward.

"Damn, you one of the moms?" he asked, looking at her flat belly and tight shorts.

"No, no," she laughed.

"Want to be?" he asked and smiled playfully.

She burst into laughter and gave the red head her phone number.

"Can't you stay in just one night?" Ann Marie begged as Nicole hurriedly brushed her hair and ran for the door.

Nicole did not even bother answering her, just slammed the door, unmindful of the baby that was finally sleeping. Thankfully, the slamming door did not wake the sleeping infant.

****

April and he worked on boring out the piston chambers. After the mind-numbing tedium of staring at a computer screen all day, reading graphs and charts and looking at ledgers, Cris really enjoyed the 'hands-on' approach of working on his motorcycle.

April was the instructor, but most of the actual instructions came from Jimbo; April would run inside, ask him the question, then run back to the garage and tell Cris what to try next. From time to time, Jimbo would push his immense bulk into the too-small wheelchair and roll outside to watch the restoration of his pride and joy.

While it was being rebuilt, Cris was borrowing Jimbo's Harley.

"Nah ain't selling that; April keeps saying she wants it," Jimbo smiled when Cris asked about buying it.

"Shit, Jimbo, thing's bigger than her!" Cris laughed.

"Yeah, but she thinks one day she's going to get her own gonads and wants that bike for when that day happens," Jimbo said.

"Fuck you, Jimbo," April said easily as she pointed out the piston rings to cris. "Hey, old man, forget something?"

"Shit!" Cris said and rethreaded the bolt. "And quit calling me that!"

"Okay, gas in the tank and try it," April smiled.

Cris held his breath as he poised on the kick start, then forced it down. He smiled widely as the powerful engine coughed, then roared into life.

"Fucking A right!" he said and eased it into first gear.

"I think he's graduated, what you think, Jimbo?" April said as she gathered up all the tools.

"Yeah," Jimbo agreed sadly as Cris slowly rolled around the clamshell driveway in front of the garage. "Tell him come on in; we'll have a little graduation ceremony."

****

Zack and his band practiced their cacophony of thrash metal for a while before Rudy's mother finally screamed at them to stop. Then the five musicians brought out the joints and passed them around, talking about what their lives would be like when they hit the big time.

"Hot and cold running pussy!" Zack whooped out loud.

"Hey!" Nicole said peevishly. "What you need with that, huh? You got me!"

"Oops!" Zack laughed.

"Huh?" Nicole whispered petulantly in his ear. "What you want with them skanks, huh?"

""He don't want you, I'll take you," Rudy offered hopefully.

"Yeah, he'll take you," Zack suggested.

Nicole looked at him, the tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"Aw, don't start that fucking crying shit," Zack spat and slapped her face. "Fucking hate that shit, stupid bitch!"

Nicole clutched her face and ran from the garage.

"And another one's gone, and another one's gone, and another one bites the dust," Phillip sang out.

"Hey, going to get you too; another one bites the dust!" Zack finished.

Forgetting that Rudy's mother had told them to cease, the five of them began a loud, dissonant rendition of 'Another One Bites The Dust' by Queen.

****

"Thanks again," Cris said and shook Jimbo's hand warmly.

""Uh huh, think April wants to talk to you," Jimbo said.

Cris looked around the filthy living room but did not see her. He peered into the equally soiled kitchen area.

"Think she's outside," Jimbo said in a subdued voice and began to push his wheelchair toward the doorway of the bedroom.

She smiled as he approached his motorcycle.

"Jimbo said you want to talk with me," he said.

"Nah, just want a ride," she smiled. "Tired of talking to your old ass."

He got on and she swung her leg over the seat and gave him room to kick the large engine into life. Then she scooted forward and clutched him tightly.

"Where?" he asked.

"Your place," she said, placing her small hand on his crotch.

He killed the engine.

"Hey, what...?" April said.

"Hey, Jimbo's my buddy," Cris said. "I ain't screwing around with my buddy's old lady."

"He already knows," April said. "He's the one said I ought to."

"Uh huh, we'll see about that," Cris said, put the bike back on its kickstand and stomped back to the dilapidated trailer.

April smirked at him when he returned.

"Let's rock," he said and again kicked the large motor into life.

The three mile ride from Jimbo's trailer to the apartment building was over far too quickly so Cris went past the building and opened the bike up when they pulled onto Highway 19. After a moment, he chanced a glance down and saw that the needle was buried out of sight. He laughed out loud; the exhilaration was overwhelming.

"Fuck yeah," April whooped when they finally pulled up in front of Cris's apartment building.

"Fuck yeah," Cris agreed and let her into Apartment 1.

"Nice," April commented as she looked around.

He'd painted the walls a pale lemon color, and the wood was a pale lime green. The pale beige carpet was cheap, but Cris had laid down double padding, giving it a plush look and feel. The linoleum in the kitchen was a stark white, matching the Formica counter tops. The entire apartment was almost sterile in its cleanliness.

The double bed was neatly made and covered with a peach colored bedspread. April started toward it, shrugging out of her tee shirt.

Cris came up behind her and softly kissed her neck and shoulders, then helped her out of the shirt.

"Don't," she moaned. "Don't do it nice."

"What?" Cris asked as he pulled her long brown hair aside to get at her bare shoulder.

He lightly kissed the dragon tattoo and she gave a slight hiccough.

"Damn it!" she screamed and turned around. "Come on! Mother fucker, I said don't do it nice!"

"Fine, fine, how's this?" he asked.

He grabbed her and forcibly threw her on his bed. Roughly, he grabbed her boots and pulled them off of her. She actually smiled as he jerked her jeans down and off of her slender legs.

Her breasts were small and her pink nipples were small as well. Each nipple was pierced and a chain went from one ring to the other. Her chest and belly were adorned with several tattoos, most of which were dragons.

Her pussy was hairless and also had a dragon tattoo adorning the mound. The jaws of the dragon spread open from the top of her slit, making her pussy appear as if it were the dragon's mouth.

Her brown eyes watched as he undressed himself and smiled as his manhood came into sight. He gripped it by the base and approached her.

"Suck it; you bite it I swear I'll fucking kill you," he hissed at her.

She flicked her pierced tongue lovingly over the head then pulled it slowly into her mouth. She looked up at him as she did so, making sure to rasp her tongue ring along the vein of his cock.

He ran his finger up and down her bald slit and discovered she was already quite wet. She moaned happily around his cock when he roughly dug two fingers into her pussy. Her eyes opened a little wider as he quickly grabbed her head in his hands and thrust his cock down her throat.

"Mmph, aw shit yeah! he grunted as he pumped his seed down her throat.

"Fuck, you always so fucking quick, huh?" April complained when he released her head.

"Uh huh," he smirked and shoved her back against the pillows.

"You put your fucking mouth down there, I swear to God I'll piss on you," she threatened as he prepared to eat her pussy.

"Wouldn't if I was you," he said, pulling his broad leather belt from his jeans and looping it around his hand.

She took the threat seriously and did not urinate in his mouth. She did grip his head tightly with her legs and screamed as he found her small clitoris with his tongue.

"Stop!" she screamed. "Stop, stop, I fucking hate that!"

He shoved her against the pillows again and slammed his cock into her spasming pussy to the hilt.

"Hate getting your pussy eaten, huh?" he smiled and stuffed his tongue into her mouth.

"Yeah," she admitted when he released her mouth. "Too fucking sensitive."

As if to prove her point, she clamped down on his cock and grunted in orgasm.

When she was able to breathe again she looked up at him.

"Let me on top," she said.

"Fuck you bitch," he said and began to pound in and out of her. "Ain't no way you're getting on top here."

"Fuck!" she screamed and clamped down on his cock again.

He spurted heavily into her pussy and she giggled happily and kissed him.

"Uh uh, we ain't done here," he said as she moved to get out of the bed.

"What?" she asked and he roughly grabbed her and forced her over onto her belly.

"Uh uh! Aw, hell no!" she protested as he spit onto her anus. "Uh uh, mother fucker! Ain't nothing going in there!"

She screamed as he forced the head of his cock into her tightly clenched rectum and he forced her face into the pillows to muffle her screams.

"Uh uh uh," she grunted and sobbed as he savagely thrust in and out of her rectum.

She twisted her face around and pulled his face to hers for a kiss.

He grabbed her as she sauntered out of his small bathroom and threw her back onto his bed.

"God damn it, no!" she yelled. "Come on, Cris, let me go! Come on, old man! Damn it!"

He yanked her blue jeans halfway off her legs and thrust himself into her wet pussy.

"Fucking hate you, ass hole," she murmured as they kissed hungrily.

"So let me ask you something," he said as he lay next to her on the bed. "You always saying 'no,' how I'm supposed to know if it's really no or not?"

"You'd know," April said producing a large blade and pressing it to his throat. "All right? You'd know."

Chapter 6

Zack sat in his pride and joy, his 1978 Z28 camaro. He had Metallica cranked as loud as the stereo could handle it without distortion and laughed as he glanced around at the annoyed looks he was getting from the people in the other cars. 

He pulled up in the back parking lot of the Acadiana Mall and lighted a joint.




Ice Heart Ch. 02



Suddenly the driver's window shattered and Zack choked and gagged on the lungful of marijuana smoke. A large black hand reached in, turned off his stereo, then grabbed him by a handful of his long red hair and pulled him out of the car through the broken window.

"Hey, hear you like slapping little girls," the masked man said. "Guess what? I like slapping punk ass little white boys. Guess it's our lucky day, huh mother fucker?"

The giant held Zack by his hair, dangling his feet a good two feet off the ground and slapped Zack with his free hand. Zack saw stars from the force of the blow and could taste blood as his lip split open.

"Yeah, slapping little girls is fun, huh, Zack?" the man asked and backhanded Zack. "Oh yeah, it's fun, but not as much fun as slapping a little punk ass white boy thinks he's all bad ass and shit. Now that's some fun. How you like it, huh? You like being slapped around like a little bitch? It fun for you, Zack?"

Zack was sobbing as the man slapped him twice more, then let him fall to the asphalt.

"So which hand, huh? Which hand you use when you teaching them little bitches you the man, huh?" the man asked and opened Zack's car door. "I bet you right handed, ain't you?"

Zack screamed in pure agony as the man slammed his hand in the heavy car door.

"Oh, and don't be blasting that sad ass shit you call music no more; shit gave me a fucking headache following your punk ass around," the man said as he walked away. "Next time, better be playing some Aretha Franklin or Roberta Flack; now that's some music!"

The police officer wasn't all that sympathetic to Zack's complaint; Zack had a few run INS with them over his twenty years. Besides that, the story that some 'masked man' just started slapping him around, with no provocation whatsoever was highly implausible. Plus, he could distinctly smell marijuana smoke coming from the Camaro, but He promised they'd 'look into it.' The police officer gave Zack an affidavit for his insurance company.

"How much is the deductible?" the officer asked.

"A thousand," Zack said. "Why? I'm legal, dude."

"I wouldn't call them, then," the man suggested. That window ain't going to cost no thousand and they'll just jack up your premium."

"Aw, God damn it," Zack yelled and hit the roof of the car with his right hand.

The police officer shook his head as he got back into his cruiser, watching the boy hop around, clutching his broken hand.

****

Cris was highly agitated as he was asked to come down to the Lafayette Sheriff's office for routine questioning.

"Who's, I don't even know any Zack Wrights!" he protested.

"Zack Wright, your daughter's boyfriend?" the officer asked, skeptical of Cris's claim.

"I haven't seen her in almost a year," Cris admitted. "I didn't even know she was dating anyone; she's an adult, you know?"

The last question had nothing to do with Zack Wright.

"So, where in the hell did you get that bike?" the officer asked. "Man, I would give my left nut to have one like that!"

"That, my friend is a piece of American history," Cris smiled. "Rebuilt it myself, all original parts."

"Too sweet," the officer said and watched in envy as Cris stomped down on the kick start.

****

"Do you think, for one God damned minute, you could get off your fucking ass and do SOMETHING around here?" Ann Marie screamed at Nicole.

"Mom, I think, Mom, I'm pregnant," Nicole admitted and burst into tears.

"Aw Jesus Christ!" Ann Marie screamed. "That's just fucking great!"

Mother and daughter sat at the small dining table and made their plans. Abortion wasn't even discussed; abortion was a sin in the eyes of their Church.

Finally, they agreed; Nicole would stay at home and care for her sister while Ann Marie went and got a job. Mr. Trapani, Hank's former friend and financial backer had hinted that Ann Marie would be perfect for the position of receptionist.

"And I mean, take care of her," Ann Marie said tersely. I don't mean stick a bottle in her mouth and walk off and leave her there. You got to really take care of her."

"Fine, fine," Nicole whined.

****

"Hello?" Cris said, barely holding back his anger.

It had been a bear of a day. First, the old man that lived in Apartment 4 had let him know that he was moving out at the end of the month; moving to an assisted living building near his daughter in Jackson, Mississippi. Then, as he had on several occasions, he could swear he saw April on her BMW, but when he turned to look, she was gone. Then he'd been 'asked' to come down to the Lafayette Sheriff's office. There, they reminded him about a daughter he had successfully pushed to the farthest corners of his mind. There was a mountain of plots that David, his vice-president of the Louisiana division had neglected to look at and Norman James wanted them by the end of the day.

And now, his ex-wife was on the inside line. She had tried twice to call through on the regular switchboard, but Sandra had refused to patch her through.

"I know you don't want to talk to me," Ann Marie hissed, angered as well. "But I just thought you might like to know, your daughter's pregnant."

"Well, la de fucking dah!" Cris said. "Ain't my problem, though; she's an adult."

Ann Marie bit back the scream of rage when Cris hung up on her.

"What'd did Daddy say?" Nicole asked when Ann Marie stomped past her.

"You don't want to know," Ann Marie snapped.

****

"Ain't my fucking kid," Zack immediately responded when Nicole called him and told him she was pregnant.

"The fuck it ain't!" she screamed. "Who else's could it be, huh?"

"Hey I don't know who you been fucking," he said and smiled in satisfaction when she hung up on him.

****

"Cris smiled in appreciation as Sandra put the cup of coffee down on his desk.

"I'll stay if you want me to," she offered. "I mean, it's either stayed here and baby-sit you, or go home and baby-sit all of my kids and Sherri and Ronnie's kids."

"Uh huh and how is Andrea?" Cris asked as he sipped the hot beverage.

"Cute as a bug," Sandra smiled. "She's going to be a real heartbreaker when she gets older."

"Spitting image of Ronnie, right?" Cris pumped.

"No, Cris, I really don't think you're the daddy, is that what you want to hear?" Sandra said tightly.

"And I say 'Thank you Jesus!'" Cris said.

"Uh huh, all men are pigs, you hear?" Sandra said. "Y'all all hot and bothered until all of a sudden there might be a price to pay."

"Hey, I did not go chasing after that," Cris defended.

"Uh huh and you didn't say 'no' either, did you?" Sandra asked.

"Uh huh, got me there," Cris admitted and bent over the sonar reading.

****

Ann Marie sat in the Cadillac Seville and sobbed. The car had been her mother's car; Dad had given it to her to use.

Mr. Trapani hadn't needed a receptionist; what he wanted was a whore. Her skin felt dirty where he had pawed at her with his gnarled old hands and her ears till burned from the filthy, degrading things he said to her.

She quickly opened the door of the car and vomited onto the dirty asphalt of Trapani's parking lot.

"Two choices," she thought bitterly. "I can either be a fucking whore or I can kill myself."

She happened to see Sophia's car seat in the rearview mirror and set her jaw firmly.

"Whore. I'm a whore. I'm a cheap, two-bit fucking whore," she decided and started the car.

****

"I get off at..." the girl excitedly said and glanced over her shoulder at the large digital clock. "Ooh! I get off in ten minutes! You be here?"

"Sure, I'll just run home, get the spare helmet" Cris smiled and pulled away from the McDonald's drive-through window.

The cute blonde had jokingly asked him for a ride when he pulled up to the window to pay for his meal.

He parked the bike, killed the engine, and ate his Big Mac and fries. The soda was watered down, and was too large so after a few sips of it, he threw everything into the large garbage can and rode the mile to his apartment building, grabbed the spare helmet then raced back to the McDonald's. He pulled up so that he was visible from the drive-through window and waited for the girl to come out.

"Hi," she bubbled as she ran up to him.

Behind the window, he had seen the pneumatic breast the girl sported. Out in the parking lot, he could see that the breasts were large because most of her was large. She was only five feet, four or five inches, but was easily seventy to eighty pounds overweight. Her blonde hair, he had assumed was either in a pony-tail, or tucked up under her uniform's cap, but he could see that it was cut severely short. 

He shrugged and smiled. Fat or not, bad hairstyle or not, she was cute and the tits were a definite attraction.

"Hi, I'm cris," he said and handed her the helmet.

"I'm Nickie," the girl said and strapped the helmet on. "I mean, it's Nicole, but everybody just calls me Nickie."

"Good one, God," Cris thought dourly. "Three times in one day, huh?"

"You know, I'm old enough to be your father," he said to her as he kicked the bike into life.

"My daddy's a pretty sexy old guy," Nickie admitted as she pressed against his back.

"So where to?" Cris asked.

"I don't care, just ride," she yelled excitedly.

Cris checked around carefully, then pulled out of the parking lot at a high rate of speed and pulled onto Highway 52. 

There were very few cross streets and even less traffic lights between the McDonald's and the Atchafalaya Basin so he steadily increased the speed.

"Mother fucker!" Nickie laughed as he killed the engine at Huvall's Levee. "My legs are weak!"

To demonstrate, she staggered around laughing.

"How fast were we going?" she asked breathlessly.

"I have no idea," he smiled. "I was kind of hoping you could tell me."

"Real fast!" she said and kissed him hotly.

She moaned into his mouth when he hefted one of her heavy breasts.

"I like them kind of mashed, you know, like this," she said and pressed his hand into her chest. "I mean, most mother fuckers just grab them and squeezed the shit out of them, hey, want to go get some coffee? There's this place right there on nineteen, Jitters?"

"Come on," Cris smiled.

She excitedly squeezed herself to him as he barreled down Highway 52. He then turned onto Highway 19. And raced up to the small coffee shop.

"You have to pick me up tomorrow morning; I work the lunch shift, I got to get there at ten thirty, okay?" she babbled as he ordered a decaffeinated for himself and a regular coffee with both chocolate and raspberry syrup for her.

She kept up a babbling monologue as she stirred in three packets of raw sugar and drank the hot liquid.

Yeah, you need sugar and caffeine," he thought to himself as she continued babbling incessantly, often switching to a new topic of conversation before finishing the old one.

"Hate to piss in your corn flakes, Nickie," he said when she again brought up the demand that he pick her up for work the next day. "But by ten thirty, I will be neck deep in drilling permits and grade specifications. You'll have to get Daddy to give you a ride."

"Don't you want to see me again?" she asked, pouting playfully.

"Yeah, want to see you, but that doesn't mean I got to drop everything and come running, huh?" he smiled.

"Yes it does!" she laughed. "In Nickie's world it does!"

"Uh huh," he smiled and finished his coffee.

The house Nickie and her father lived in was just down the block from Jimbo's trailer and Cris entertained the idea of 'dropping in, just to say hi' but knew it was just an excuse to see April again.

"Come in, meet my daddy," Nickie excitedly demanded.

Cris felt pretty nervous as he walked up the steps to the front door of the run-down house. How would he feel if his nineteen year old daughter brought home a forty one, almost forty two year old man?

Harold was obviously used to it; he was polite but not warm to Cris.

"No, Nickie," he smiled. "I already told you, I'm not picking you up tomorrow; I'll be at work."

"Then pick me up after work," she demanded.

"Fine, what time you get off?" he asked.

"Four," she said and disappeared before he could object.

"Hey," Harold smiled sadly as he walked Cris to the door. "Listen, um, my Nickie, she's um..."

The two men walked outside. Under the harsh light from the carport, Cris could see that Harold was at least sixty years old if not older.

"My Nickie, she's not normal," Harold admitted, embarrassed. "I mean, she's not, it's not like she's retarded or anything, but she's, well, I mean, she's twenty four years old, and working at McDonald's is about the best she'll ever do."

"She's twenty four?" Cris said aloud, relieved that she was older than he'd thought.

"And, man, listen, if you're just fucking with her, do me a real big favor and get lost, okay?" Harold went on. "I mean, right now, right now, she's in her room planning her wedding and planning how many kids y'all have. Y'all break up, it'll take her at least a month to get over it."

Cris looked at him and slowly nodded his head.

****

Ann Marie finished the second cup of coffee and looked around the diner. The lone waitress looked haggard, like it had been a long day for her. There were five tables including hers and the woman was doing her best to keep up with it all, to keep everyone's orders straight. She looked over at Ann Marie and smiled tiredly.

"Want some more coffee, Honey?" the woman asked.

"Looks like you could use an extra hand or two," Ann Marie said.

"You don't know the half of it," the woman agreed. "Damned kids, come in, work two or three days, then up and quit," the woman complained. "Was supposed to be here two hours ago so I can get home. Now I'm be here until God knows when."

"Well, I ain't no kid, but I could use a job," Ann Marie said.

Being a waitress might not pay as much as sucking Mr. Trapani's cock, but was a lot more dignified.

****

Zack finished pumping the gas and replaced the cap on the gas tank. He got into his car and almost screamed as the large black man tot into the passenger seat.

"Man, what the fuck I tell you about listening to that shit you call music, huh?" the masked giant asked. "Drive, punk ass white boy, just drive."

"Where we going?" Zack choked out.

"Fuck, I don't care," the man said, turning off the stereo. "Tell you what, take me out to the Zip, and know where that is?"

"Uh huh," Zack quavered.

"Aw don't tell me a bad ass white boy like you all scared of the Zip, huh?" the man laughed. "Just take me out to Gerard Park, then."

"Here's good," the man said as Zack pulled up to the parking lot. Get out, we need to talk."

Zack contemplated running as he got out but realized that the huge man could easily outrun him.

"You run, you just going to be that much tireder," the man said as he got out of the car.

"I ain't running," Zack said, trying to appear brave.

"Now, what's this shit I hear you calling my little girl a slut?" the man said as he approached Zack.

"I didn't, I don't even know who your little girl is," Zack said, noticing the large bolt cutters the man held.

"You what?" the man asked, stopping in front of Zack. "You going to stand there and tell me you don't know who Nicole Ann Dumas is?"

"Well, yeah, I know Nicole but," Zack sputtered.

"And she said she called you to tell you the good news and you saying the baby ain't yours," the man went on.

"Well, yeah, I mean, how'm I supposed to know if she's fucking around on me or not?" Zack shrilled.

"Aw, now that ain't right," the man chuckled. "You know you wrong for that; saying she ain't a good girl, saying she fucking around."

The man grabbed Zack's baggy jeans and shoved them down to Zack's knees.

"But we both know all it take is some of that D.N.A. stuff prove you the daddy," the man said and slapped Zack's hands away from the waistband of his jeans. "So, I'm cut off your little white boy pee pee and we run the D.N.A. off that and if you ain't the daddy, then you ain't got shit to worry about, right?"

"I'm the daddy, all right?" Zack screamed as the large man grabbed the bolt cutters with both hands and approached Zack's penis.

"Aw now, see?" the man laughed. "Now, what you going to do about it?"

"What you mean?" Zack sniveled.

"I mean, it's your baby, what you going to do about it?" the man repeated.

"I don't know," Zack whined.

"Man, you all big and bad when you tapping that ass of her. You all big and bad when you slapping her around, but you don't know what to do about a baby?" the man asked.

"I mean, I suppose I could pay some you know, some child support or something," Zack whined.

"You suppose. You SUPPOSE?" the man bellowed, face millimeters away from Zack's pale face. "Mother fucker, you are one dumb ass white boy, you know that? Ain't no 'suppose' to it? You paying, mother fucker, you paying."

"All right, all right," Zack screamed.

"Now, how you suppose you going to pay, huh?" the man asked.

"Well, see, I'm in this band and..." Zack said.

The man laughed out loud, a harsh, scornful laugh.

"You in a band, huh? And what y'all called? The we sound like shit band? The ain't a single one of us know what the fuck we doing band? The we need to grow the fuck up, cut our fucking hair, and get us a real fucking job band?" the large man asked mockingly.

"No, we're..." Zack said, defensively.

"Shut up," the man yelled and slapped Zack hard enough to cause his nose to start bleeding. "You ain't shit, hear?"

Zack fell to the ground, his jeans still bunched around his knees.

"Aw, get the fuck up and pull your fucking pants up," the man spat. "Such a fucking stupid fashion, wearing your pants all baggy and falling off and shit; know where that shit got started, huh?"

Zack got up, trying hard not to cry in front of the large man.

"Bunch of faggots in prison; that's where that shit got started," the man said, contempt thick in his voice. "See, they ain't got titties let you know they a bitch, so they wear their pants all loose so you know they got a pussy. That what's up with you? Huh, Zack? You got a pussy?"

"No," Zack whined.

"Then pull your fucking pants up before I make you a pussy, hear me, bitch?" the man threatened.

"Yes sir," Zack sniveled.

"Good, good, like that, 'yes sir,' like that a lot. Now, this is what's going to happen. You going to go down to PPEDI and you going to ask Nicole's daddy if you can have a job," the man said, punctuating his words with a jab in Zack's chest. "Then when you get a paycheck, you going to send Nicole some money, what you think is fair?"

"I don't know, about fifty bucks?" Zack asked.

"Fifty bucks?" the man screamed. "Mother fucker, it's a baby! Not a fucking dog! A baby! Take a shit load more than fifty bucks! Let's say two hundred a week, got it?"

"Two hundred!" Zack shrilled.

He came too and remembered the giant's fist coming at his face. The man was nowhere around. He picked himself up from the dirty parking lot and got into his car. He drove home in silence, cursing Nicole Ann Dumas for ever being born, for ever coming into his life.

Chapter 7

He looked at the scrawny kid that stammered and whined as he asked for a job and shook his head.

Zack Wright. That was the name of Nicole's boyfriend, the one the Lafayette Sheriff's office had asked him about.

"Son," Cris finally said, cutting off the pathetic attempt. "Do you even know what Pilot does?"

"Um, no, not really, I mean, y'all in the oil field, right?" Zack said.

"Uh huh, we're in the oil field; we do exploration, locating oil deposits for drilling. Then we do the mud logging, analyzing the sludge that comes up for trace deposits," Cris sighed. "It's dirty work, its hard work, and I'm looking at your application and you don't have a single qualification tells me you can do any of this. What it does tell me is I'm take the time train your ass and you'll decide 'it's too hard,' and quit on me."




Ice Heart Ch. 02



"But, but," Zack sputtered. 

That black son of a bitch wasn't going to just let Zack slide on 'I tried, but Nicole's dad wouldn't hire me.' His teeth were loose from the punch the man had given him.

"So, here's your chance, son. Convince me I'm wrong, convince me I hire you, you'll be here after you get your first pay check," Cris said.

His cell phone rang and he rolled his eyes.

"Lucky break son, you got a couple of minutes to think about what you're going to say," he smiled. "That's my girlfriend; she doesn't know the meaning of 'Honey, I'm in a meeting, make it quick.'"

Zack's mind whirled as he tried to think of what he could say. Telling the man that he was being threatened didn't seem like the best idea. - Telling the man he needed the money to pay child support to a bitch he wasn't even fucking any more, especially when the bitch was the man's daughter also didn't seem like a good idea.

"No, no, Nickie, Honey, I'm right in the middle of something," Cris said. "Fine, fine, see you at seven, okay, okay, love you too, bye."

"Sorry about that," Cris smiled. "Now, what were you going to say?"

Finally Cris shook his head.

"Son, my guess is that you have great aspirations of mediocrity. You lack the skills and the motivation to work for PPEDI," Cris said and got to his feet. "Might I suggest McDonald's or Taco Bell?"

"Aw fuck you," the boy snapped.

"No, son, Life, life will be giving you the fucking you got coming to you," Cris said lightly and shoved the boy out of his office.

"That was Nicole's boyfriend?" Sandra asked as she entered Crisp's office, carrying the obligatory cup of coffee.

"Uh huh," Cris said and sent the e-mail he was working on.

"Going to hire him?" Sandra asked.

"Mind your own business, Sandra," Cris said.

"But, Cris, he's Nicole's boyfriend, the father of your grandchild!" Sandra said, dismayed.

"And he's nothing but a God damned loser," Cris said and took the cup of coffee.

"But," Sandra sputtered.

"Sandra, Nicole hasn't come to me and asked me to help him, Nicole has not come to me and asked me to help her," Cris said coldly. "And even if she did, I am not sure I would."

"Nickie know what a cold son of a bitch you are?" Sandra asked icily.

"Don't know, ask her yourself," Cris said easily and looked at the response Norman James had sent to his previous e-mail.

****

The work was hard; there was nothing easy about being a waitress. The hours dragged by and she was bone tired by the time she got off of work. The pay was also a pittance of what the service demanded, but the tips were generous. Most of the old coots liked her and made sure to sit at her tables. Harriet did not begrudge her that just shook her head in a, amusement as Ann Marie tended to her regulars.

"It's because you have that rack," Harriet said as Ann Marie checked that the buttons on her uniform were not unbuttoned past the level of decency.

"Hey, if you got it, put it to work," Ann Marie smiled and thrust her chest out a little.

"Amen, sister," Harriet laughed.

Mr. Trapani had called a few times. He was never stupid enough to leave any messages when Ann Marie let it go to voice mail; she was hoping he would. Then she could go to Mrs. Trapani with the evidence, or blackmail Mr. Trapani with the threat of going to his wife. Finally, the man gave up and quit calling.

"Mm mm mm," an old man said, shaking his head as Ann Marie bent over to refill his cup of coffee. "Honey, what would it take for this old man to warm your bed tonight?"

"Nothing doing," Ann Marie smiled and tapped his wedding band. "I don't mess around with married men."

"Means nothing to me," the old man hastened to assure her, tugging to remove the ring.

"Means something to me," Ann Marie said, losing her smile. "I had me one of those once, and I let it, I threw it away. Stupidest thing I ever done."

****

Nicole praised Sophia as the girl tried her best to pull herself up and stand.

"Aw, you fall down?" Nicole soothed as Sophia did indeed, fall down. "It's okay; let's try that again, okay?"

She hated to admit it, but raising a baby was a lot of work, a lot harder than she had thought. But it was also a labor of love and she found out she really did love it. She loved Sophia to the point of anger when Mom reminded her that Sophia was not her baby, was her sister.

Her own belly was beginning to bulge, a small sign of what was to come. She shook her head; how could she have ever thought she loved Zack Wright?

She had seen him the other day, working at Taco Bell. She watched as he did the barest minimum possible to the point where the customer in line ahead of her asked that anyone but the red head kid be the one to prepare their meal.

"Hey, Wright, think you could like pick up the pace a bit?" the manager shouted at the insolent kid.

When he responded, Nicole almost giggled, he was missing a tooth now, making him look ridiculous, unkempt, low-class.

"Yeah, make sure he washes his hands before he touches anything I'm going to eat," Nicole smiled at the manager and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Yes, ma'am, and can I take your order?" he asked.

The manager went out to the dining area to collect the trays from the garbage bin and smiled at her.

"Everything okay, ma'am?" he asked.

"Yummy," she said, smiling.

"Good, good, hope we see you again," he said, his meaning obvious.

But Zack was now sending her seventy five dollars a week. Her first instinct had been to blow it on some new clothes, but common sense prevailed. She and Mom had gone down to the bank and opened a checking account with the money, plus some other money Nicole still had from her birthday money and Mom threw in a few bucks from her tips. Every bit she had went into her account and she kept careful notes of each check Zack sent as well as every bill she incurred.

The manager was there as she lugged Sophia in and she smiled at the man.

"Don't tell me this little cutie pie is your daughter?" the man asked and smiled and waved to Sophia.

"Nope, baby sister," Nicole smiled proudly.

Zack wanted to spit in that bitch's burrito. Standing there, smiling and laughing and flirting with that ass hole manager of his.

"Wright, customer would like to eat TODAY," Fred said loudly and Zack scowled darkly as she tittered, laughed at him.

"I'm Nicole, Nicole Dumas," Nicole said as he slid the tray across the counter to her.

"No kidding?" he smiled. "I'm Fred. Fred Dumas."

"No way!" Nicole laughed. "Who's your daddy?"

They chatted for a moment, found out that they may be very, very distant relations, but weren't really sure. Then a throng of teenagers came in and Fred had his hands full with them.

"Bye, Sophia," Fred called out and Nicole smiled.

"Say 'Bye, Mr. Fred," Nicole encouraged, but Sophia did not respond.

****

He put the icing in between the two layers, liberally. Nicole liked a lot of icing. Then it stirred in a teaspoon of granulated sugar and whisked it into the frosting. This he applied to the outside of the cake.

Nickie had a voracious appetite, despite her claim that she 'was trying to lose weight.' There was very little chance she would ever lose a single pound; she did no exercise and ate whatever she could get her hands on. To her, a meal without dessert was an incomplete meal, so he made sure to have a dessert for her.

She brought bounciness and vitality and laughter into his life. He had heard Harold's statement that his daughter did not live in the real world and found that Harold was not being unkind in this declaration. But Nickie made him happy. He indulged her fantasy world as much as possible, and made one of her fantasies a reality when he bought her a nine hundred dollar engagement ring.

He put the cake into the freezer and flipped the chicken breasts that were cooking in the frying pan. Almost on cue, Nickie's fluttering knock sounded on the door.

"It's open," he called out and stirred in the onion and bell pepper.

"Hey," she bounced happily into the room.

"Hey," he agreed, looking over her shoulder at the dark haired pudgy but attractive woman that entered the apartment, looking around with uncertainty.

"Oh, hey, Cris, this is Michelle; everybody calls her Mickie, get it? Nickie and Mickie? Anyway, she's my manager on the drive through and she was saying she was sick and tired of eating McDonald's and I said 'my fiancé' is the best cook ever' and so she's all 'no he's not,' and so I brought her here, 'cause I know you are and what you cooking, oh, did you get that wine I was telling you about, it goes sooo good with chicken and that smells great and Mickie say hi to Cris, I got to go pee," Nickie said then dashed to the bathroom, leaving an amused Cris and a nervous Mickie standing there.

"Hi, close the door, okay?" Cris said and rapidly added the fajita sauce to the frying pan.

"Um, hope you don't mind; I tried not to, but she insisted," Mickie mumbled.

She was an attractive woman, if her hair wasn't hanging in her face. She was not as heavy set as Nickie, but still sported a few extra pounds. Her breasts were not as large as Nickie's, nor were her hips as wide. She brushed her hair back and smiled shyly at Cris.

Nickie came back into the kitchen, and then kissed Cris warmly.

"You two getting along?" she asked, and then went to look in the refrigerator.

"Mickie, you want something to drink?" she asked. "Crisp's got beer, and ooh, you DID get that wine, and oh, he's also got a fifth of gin in the freezer and a thing of tequila; we're having Mexican tonight and..."

"Um, I like tequila," Mickie admitted.

"Margaritas already mixed up in the pitcher, Nickie," Cris called out as he pulled the tortillas from the oven.

"Oh, goody!" Nickie whooped and poured herself and Mickie sizable drinks.

"Damn, Nickie, want to get me drunk or what?" Mickie asked and took a healthy gulp of the drink.

Cris smiled as he put the two plates on the small coffee table in front of the love seat; he only had two dining room chairs. 

"Just because it's in your glass doesn't mean you have to drink the whole thing," he reminded Mickie and playfully patted Nickie's ample backside. "Dinner's on the coffee table.

He fixed his own plate and sat in the small brown leather recliner.

"This real leather?" Mickie asked as she wiggled on the loveseat.

"Yep," Cris said

"I just LOVE the way leather feels against my skin," Mickie confessed to them. "Umm, this is good!"

"Um, you want to feel my couch against your skin, go right ahead," Cris joked.

"Cris!" Nickie shrilled and slapped him on his arm. "You just want to see her naked! Bad boy!"

"Oh I didn't say I was going to look," Cris smiled.

"Did say you wasn't, either! I ain't stupid," Nickie laughed. "You right, Mickie, this is good, but everything Cris cooks is good; he's like this major chef you know."

They were looking through his cd collection, laughing at his 'old school' country music selections while he poured the raspberry syrup over the slices of chocolate cake. Finally both Nickie and Mickie found something that didn't cause them to shriek in hoots of derision and put it into his bookshelf system. He threw the empty bottle into the trash and put the two plates on the coffee table.

"Ooh, dessert too?" Mickie said as Garth Brooks came pouring out of the speakers.

"Uh huh, he's like the best," Nickie slurred and leaned heavily against Cris.

She grabbed him in a fierce hug and jammed her tongue into his mouth. She rubbed her body against him then kissed him again.

"I love you, Baby," she said.

"Love you to," he said and mashed one of her breasts.

"So what now?" Mickie asked as she dug her fork into the cake.

"What you mean?" Nickie asked.

"I mean what y'all do after y'all eat; y'all play cards, or anything or...?" Mickie asked.

"No, we just usually fuck after we eat," Nickie said, then laughed uproariously.

"What you want to do?" Cris asked Mickie, sitting on the small recliner.

"I don't know," Mickie answered, in a tone that suggested she did know what she wanted to do.

"I do have a deck of cards somewhere around here," Cris said. "We could play a couple of hands of strip poker; that way you'd get to feel what the couch feels like; you said you like leather."

"Takes too long," Mickie said and got to her feet.

She dug the empty wine bottle from the trash and actually giggled as she brought it back into the living room.

"Spin the bottle; with a twist," she laughed, blushing hotly. "Spin it, you got to kiss the person it lands on, and you both have to take off one piece of your clothes, okay?"

Cris looked at Nickie and shrugged his shoulders. In true Nickie form, she gripped the bottle and gave it a healthy spin, taking charge. The bottle wobbled and finally stopped on Nickie.

"What, now I got to kiss myself?" she huffed.

"No, you just got to take something off," Mickie laughed. "But you get another spin."

"Maybe don't spin it so hard," Cris smiled as Nickie kicked off a shoe.

The two girls looked at each other; the bottle had pointed to Mickie. Nickie leaned over and pressed her lips to Mickie's, then sucked in a sharp breath as Mickie's tongue touched her lips.

Nickie removed her other shoe and Mickie kicked off one sneaker. Then she gave a healthy spin to the bottle. Both girls shrieked when the bottle pointed to Nickie.

"Give me a real kiss this time," Mickie demanded.

After they'd kissed for a few seconds, Mickie kicked off the other sneaker while Nickie went for a sock.

Cris smiled; the game had progressed quite nicely for him; he was still in jeans and boxers while both Nickie and Mickie were down to their panties. Either way the bottle landed, he was going to see Mickie's pussy in the next moment; it was her turn to spin. 

Both girls' nipples were quite puckered and sticking out, even though it was slightly warm in the room. Cris's jeans were severely tented in front and he was in slight discomfort from the snug jeans pressing his erection down.

He admired Mickie's breasts; they were not as large as Nickie's, but the nipples were twice as large. Her belly did not paunch out like Nickie's did, but her hips were generous, like Nickie's.

She smiled, and then gave the bottle a weak spin. It landed on him and he leaned over and gave her a heated kiss, then shrugged out of his jeans. She hesitated for a second, and then shimmied out of her full cotton briefs, exposing a hairless slit. She sat down and smiled widely.

"I LOVE the way leather feels," she announced.

Cris spun the bottle and it landed on Mickie. Again, they kissed and he slid his boxers off, exposing his throbbing erection to their gaze.

"I win!" Nickie whooped. "I'm the only one with any clothes on!"

"Uh huh, you win," Cris said and kissed her, leaning over the coffee table...

"Hey, no kissing unless the bottle lands on her," Mickie demanded.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Cris smiled and turned the bottle to face Nickie, then kissed her again.

"Now let's see it," Mickie demanded and tugged at Nickie's waistband.

"Oh wow, you ARE a natural blonde huh?" Mickie said.

"Okay, who wants some coffee?" Cris said, seeing that it was already ten o'clock.

Nickie gasped, and then giggled as Mickie whispered something to her.

"Hey, Cris, Mickie wants to know if you come a lot when you come," she called out and burst into gales of giggles as Mickie gasped and slapped her arm. "She says you got nice sized balls."

"Don't know, never measured," Cris smiled as he hit the switch for the coffee pot.

"Let's see," Nickie said as she wobbled into the kitchen.

She rooted around in a drawer and found the measuring cups. She pulled Cris by his manhood into the seating area and pushed him into his seat.

"Come on, you're the one who wanted to know," she demanded and Mickie got to her feet.

"Come on, hold the cup for me," Nickie giggled as she wrapped her small hand around the base of his cock.

"Uh uh, let's get it like..." Mickie said and wrapped her full lips around the head of Cris's cock.

He gasped as she slurped noisily at his cock, and then pulled her mouth off with a loud 'pop.' She looked at Nickie for assurance, then again took Cris into her mouth. Her hand cupped one of Nickie's breasts and she mashed the breast in, and then toyed with Nickie's nipple. 

Nickie reached over and played with one of Mickie's breast while her other hand lovingly cupped and fondled Cris's balls. Mickie grabbed Nickie's hand from her breast and slid it down to her hairless mound. Nickie giggled and rubbed up and down Mickie's slit.

"Aw, shit, here it comes," Cris said through clenched teeth.

"Quick quick, give me the cup!" Mickie shouted, and then shrieked as Cris's first blast caught her on her cheek.

Nickie collapsed in laughter as Cris's second and third jet joined the first, then the fourth and fifth one landed on Mickie's breast and the valley between her breasts. The last dribbles landed on Cris's thigh.

"Shut up," Mickie giggled back at Nickie.

"Here, let me help you," Nickie gasped and knelt and began to lick Cris's semen from Mickie's breast and cleavage.

She licked and sucked her lover's semen from her friend, then gave her friend an open mouthed kiss. The two girls kissed and embraced, mashing their large breasts together. Mickie grabbed onto Nickie's arm and worked her hand back down to her mound.

"Finish what you started," she reminded Nickie.

"Uh huh, me too," Nickie demanded and thrust one of Mickie's hands between her own legs.

Cris's cock did not lose its hardness as he watched his fiancé' making love with another woman.

"Here, I love the feeling of leather on my skin," Mickie gasped and pulled Nickie over to the loveseat.

She lay down, pulling Nickie on top of her. The two pudgy girls continued to kiss and fondle each other as they writhed on the small couch.

"You ever, you ever do this before?" Mickie gasped after a small orgasm made her shiver.

"Uh huh," Nickie giggled, then wormed her bulk around so that her blonde curls were just above Mickie's gasping mouth and her own pink lips were approaching Mickie's bald slit.

"Oh fuck!" Mickie groaned as a powerful orgasm racked her to her bones.

"Ah! Oh God, that's, oh!" Nickie howled as Mickie used her thumbs to pry Nickie's fleshy lips apart and thrust her tongue in, searching after Nickie's clitoris.

"No, no, we're leaving poor Cris all alone," Nickie wheezed and clambered off of Mickie. "Come on, Baby, put a condom on."

Nickie slithered onto the bed and waited for her lover.

"Me too," Mickie demanded and joined Nickie on the bed.

Cris smiled as he drove his cock into Mickie's tight pussy. Nickie knelt over Mickie's thrashing tongue and leaned forward for another kiss from Cris. He could taste Mickie's pussy still on Nickie's lips and tongue as they kissed. He cupped both of Nickie's full breasts and mashed them firmly against her chest.

"Mm, mmm," she whined into his mouth as Mickie's tongue brought her to another orgasm.

****

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Fred smiled as Nicole honked her horn at him.

"You said your car was in the shop," she smiled. "Can't have you walking home in the dark. Not safe out there."

"You didn't have to do this," he smiled as he got into the passenger seat of Ann Marie's Cadillac.

"I didn't?" Nicole asked then stopped short. "Oh, okay, get out."

"Shut up," he laughed and took off his uniform's cap.

She smiled at his receding hairline.

"What?" he asked her.

"Um, where am I going?" Nicole asked.

"Oh, that's right, you've never been to, just go down to Ambassador Caffery and make a right; I got a condo just off there," Fred said.

Zack smirked as he got into his car and turned up Iron Maiden 'Number of the Beast,' some old school metal for the ride home. Fred thought he was such hot shit, getting a ride home with that dumb cunt, Nicole. Just wait until he found out Nicole expected head every time she gave head.




Ice Heart Ch. 02



"Um, you um, you want to come in, um, see my place?" Fred stammered.

"Didn't drive out here at eleven thirty at night just because you needed a ride," Nicole smiled and leaned over the console and kissed him on his lips. 

She then playfully rubbed his mustache.

"That's going to have to go, though," she smiled.

"Aw, hey!" he complained. "I like my mustache!"

"Okay, you can keep it," she said and got out of the car. "Just won't be kissing me, though."

"And who said I want to be kissing you?" he teased as he guided her along the walkway.

"Good night," she said and turned to leave.

"Come here," he said and pulled her in for a hug.

It was typical 'bachelor' furnishings; a tattered old couch with three books acting as a leg, a coffee table that had very little veneer left on it faced a large plasma television. The television and sound system sat on a ramshackle shelf system made of cinderblocks and boards. The dining room had no table; there was a single barstool at the island that separated the kitchen from the dining room and living room. Nicole looked at him in mild amusement. If this was his idea of furniture, she couldn't help but wonder at what was upstairs in the bedrooms.

"It's uh, well, I haven't really had a whole lot of time to go furniture shopping," Fred stammered, seeing his surroundings through someone else's eyes for the first time.

"Uh huh, most places open on Sundays," Nicole said.

"Honestly?" Fred said. "Truth is, I never seen any reason to get anything nice; I never thought I'd ever have anyone as beautiful as you even close to here."

"Well I'm here," she declared. "So, next time, there going to be better stuff or what? I mean, at least a table and some chairs; where are me and Sophia going to sit?"

"I'm off tomorrow; I got to get my car, then I'll get me a table," Fred declared.

"God, I am such a fucking bitch," Nicole said and sat down heavily on the couch. "We ain't even dating and I'm already bossing you around."

"You're not a bitch," Fred said and sat down next to her.

"Yeah I am," Nicole said. "You got a right to live any way you want; you got a right to whatever furniture you want."

"Hey, I also got to get a table and some chairs," Fred said.

"And if you really like the stupid mustache, keep it," Nicole said.

"Rather kiss you," Fred admitted.

"Yeah?" she smiled.

"Yeah," he said and leaned over.

They were both panting heavily, her blouse bunched up to just under her bra.

"Listen, I got something to tell, I got to be honest with you," she moaned as his fingers came closer and closer to her tightened nipples.

"Yeah?" he whispered, sucking another kiss from her lips.

"Look, I'm, I'm pregnant, okay?" Nicole said and tensed up, waiting for the explosion.

"No kidding?" Fred said and rubbed her exposed belly. "That what that is? I was going to like tell you you might want to cut back on the Pepsi, switch over to Diet Pepsi or something."

"That don't bother you?" she asked and let him kiss her again.

"Nicole, I could tell you was the first time you came in," Fred said. "And I said, God damn, lucky son of a bitch got her all PG, wish it was me." 

"Wish it was too," Nicole said and shuddered as his fingers lightly pinched her almost hypersensitive nipples.

"I better go," she said and pushed herself up with great effort.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," she smiled and lightly rubbed his painfully erect cock. "Before I do something, make you think I'm like this super slut or something."

"I wouldn't think that," he hastily said and she laughed.

"Good night, Fred," she said and walked to the door.

It took another fifteen minutes before she finally walked out into the dank night, and then strode rapidly to her car. She got into the driver's seat, reached her hand down the front of her shorts and groaned and shuddered through an orgasm.

Chapter 8

He clenched his teeth in exasperation; he had told Nickie he was slammed at work. There was one hurricane bearing down on the off-shore rigs in the Gulf of Mexico and a tropical storm was crossing over Cuba at the same time. As soon as that tropical storm hit the warm waters of the Gulf, it too would burgeon into a hurricane. The hurricane was a category three and picking up strength.

He couldn't leave anyone on the rigs; that would be sheer lunacy for anyone to stay out there, exposed like that to the elements, but at the same time, he had to make sure there were the proper precautions taken.

But Nickie didn't want to understand that.

"What, Baby?" he asked as he answered.

"Hey, it's me," her voice said dully.

"Baby, I'm right in the middle of..." he said, forcing his voice to stay calm, even though he wanted to scream at her.

"Listen, I know you don't want to be seeing me no more 'cause I'm this big dyke," Nickie said and let a sob escape.

"Nickie, I do want to see you," he assured her. "It's just with one hurricane already out there and another potentially on the way..."

"So I'm going to take care of that," Nickie said and Cris heard a great deal of noise as she fumbled with the phone.

Then he heard a loud roar.

****

"I'm fat!" Nicole wailed as she looked at her reflection in the mirror over the small vanity.

"You're pregnant," Fred reminded her.

"There is no way I'm going out there like this!" Nicole said as she stepped out of the bathroom, clad in her bright red bikini. The bottom was bunched underneath her belly.

"Fine, put on your sundress and you can just sit there and watch me and Sophia swim," he shrugged and picked up the wiggling baby. "We'll be splashing and swimming in the nice cool water and you'll be sitting there in the hot sun, all hot and sweaty and miserable and we'll be having fun but you won't but that's fine, you'd rather be all sad because you're fat."

"I hate you," she said and grabbed the towels.

"Hate you too," he smiled and kissed her. "Damned shame though, 'cause you look so hot in that bikini."

"You're retarded," she said and made sure she had the sunscreen applied liberally enough to Sophia's skin. "I'm big as a house."

"And still hot," he smiled and herded them out of the condo.

She needn't have worried about her looks; the three women that were at the pool each weighed as much as she and Fred together. Their bikinis (she was both surprised and repulsed that bikinis came in their sizes) revealed sagging flesh and stretch marks and pasty white skin.

"And you were worried?" Fred whispered to her.

"Uh huh," she whispered back and took Sophia from him.

"You ready?" she asked the baby then walked into the cool water with the child. 

Sophia's eyes opened wide as the cool water lapped at her and she chortled and giggled and warbled in her strange way.

"Good God," one of the large women sneered at her. "Just had one and you're already expecting again?"

"She's my sister, not my daughter," Nicole sneered back. "But I can understand your confusion; I am a breeder; you wouldn't know anything about that."

"What?" Fred whispered as he took the wiggling, thrashing, splashing Sophia from her arms.

"A breeder; what big dykes like that like to call non-homos," Nicole whispered back as the three women glared hatred at her.

"Oh," he said and smiled at the three women. "I'm in unit twenty two seventeen; you?"

They ignored him. He lost the smile.

"I'm going to ask you again, what unit are you in?" he said. "Do you have permission to be here?"

"Yes we do," one of the women snapped. "We're in sixteen twelve, okay?"

"Thank you," Fred snapped back.

"Twenty two seventeen?" Nicole asked him. "We're in..."

"Like I want them knowing where we live?" he asked her.

He and Nicole played with the baby. Finally, they were pretty water-logged and she watched as he lovingly dried the wiggling, now fussing Sophia dry and waited until she was finished drying herself before handing the baby to her and drying himself. 

He waved her ahead of him while he gathered up all of their belongings then went back to twenty one twenty seven

Nicole looked around at the furniture. He'd asked her what her favorite color was; the apartment was a sea of red now. He'd even bought an unfinished table and four chairs and then stained them a cherry color. Then he bought a high chair and stained it to match. Bookcase and entertainment center, cherry red. Couch and matching recliner, bright scarlet micro-fiber.

And upstairs, he'd thrown out that horrible, uncomfortable futon and bought a real bed. With red comforter and red pillow shams.

He came in and set the bag of things by the door. She turned and looked at him. He'd shaved off that itchy, stupid looking mustache for her; had shaved it off the night she drove him home from his work.

"I love you, I am so in love with you," she declared and kissed him with all the passion she could put into the kiss.

"Wow," he said when she finally released him. "I um, I love you too."

He wasn't the most handsome man she'd ever met. His thinning brown hair and dull brown eyes were actually a little nondescript, his skin bore the scars of bad acne, and his nose was a little large, but he was a good man, a loving man. If she put on three inch heels, she was taller than him, and he was beginning to develop a little bit of a beer gut on his skinny body.

But he went out of his way to make her happy.

And when he talked about the condo, it was 'ours,' not 'mine.' He referred to it as where 'we live,' not where 'I live.' 

She didn't pay a single bill, she didn't contribute to the household expenses at all, still lived in the two bedroom apartment with her mother, but he called it 'ours.' He had even given her a key to the condo. Every now and then, when she knew he was working the lunch shift, she would be there, preparing dinner for them.

She looked into his loving eyes and made a decision.

"I'm tired of this," she said. "I want us to be together all the time, okay?"

"Are you, are you serious?" he asked, surprised. "You sure?"

"Fred, I, you don't want me?" she asked, feeling a little sick.

Maybe he just liked having her around for a quick fuck, just said he loved her, but didn't really mean it.

"Are you kidding?" he said. "God damn, I hate it when you leave, when you and Sophia go back home and I'm here by myself, all alone and everything."

****

"She was supposed to be taking, she had this medication the doctor give her," Harold mumbled, voice hollow. "Didn't like taking it, you know? Said it made her gain weight."

Had he not been so grief-stricken, Cris would have laughed. It wasn't the medication that made Nickie gain weight; it was Nickie that made Nickie gain weight.

Mickie came over and clung to Cris, sobbing loudly. He felt guilty as he held her and his cock began to swell. He still remembered her tight pussy and her hot mouth; it had been only eight days ago that the three of them had been on his bed.

Nickie's declaration of his not wanting to see her because she was a 'big dyke' hit him and his erection wilted. Nickie thought he was avoiding her because of the things she and Mickie had done together, not because of the threatening storms out in the Gulf. His heart froze a little more.

"God damn you, you idiot," he cursed the tragic girl in the box.

"God damn you, you weak bastard," he thought as he looked at her father. "Could have made her take the fucking medication."

"God damn you, fucking slut," he thought as Mickie, whether consciously or unconsciously rubbed her full breasts against him.

He had been in the middle of saying a rosary for the soul of his fiancé when Mickie had approached. When she finally walked off to talk with some of Nickie's co-workers and friends, he tried to continue saying the rosary. After a minute, he realized the prayers just would not come. He sighed and put the beads back into the leather pouch he carried them in and put the pouch into his coat pocket.

"Hey, how you doing?" Sweet William asked quietly as he eased his bulk into the pew next to Cris.

"It's all a fucking waste," Cris said, not bothering to whisper.

"Heard that," Sweet William agreed.

"You know, this is the, we was supposed to get married in this church," Cris said, almost angrily.

"Yeah?" the large man said, looking around. "It's nice, nice place to get married."

"Little late now," Cris said.

"Listen, I know you hurting," Sweet William said, voice low but firm. "I know you hurting, but it ain't you, it ain't you in that box; you still breathing."

"I don't know about that, Sweet William," Cris said. "I just don't fucking know about that."

****

Ann Marie spat angrily at Nicole; Sophia's little ears were sunburned. The child was also getting a few freckles across the bridge of her nose from being out in the sun all the time.

She wasn't really mad at Nicole; she was jealous. She busted her butt all day long for a few measly bucks, and most of the time it wasn't enough; Daddy had to slip her a couple of hundred dollars every month. Nicole, however, was raising her daughter and getting to play while Ann Marie had to work.

"Called being a grown up," Harriet had said when Ann Marie gave voice to her complaint. "You work while everybody else plays. But how many years you just sit around and play while, what was his name, Carl? While he had to bust his butt?"

"Cris," Ann Marie said. "His name was Cris, and you right."

"Course I am," Harriet said and hustled to get another order out to the dining area.

And now Nicole was happily prattling about moving in with Fred. Ann Marie tolerated the twenty eight year old man, recognized that Nicole liked Fred because of who Fred was, not for how Fred looked. But now that meant her thin budget would have to go toward a baby-sitter, or a day care for Sophia.

"But his condo is right on the way, you just come down Eraste Landry, then turn left on Ambassador Caffery, and it's right there on the left and you can drop Sophia off before you go to work or I can come get her and..." Nicole was prattling as she packed the cardboard box on her bed.

And if they'd let her move into one of the one bedroom apartments, that would take another hundred off her rent, and probably be a lot cheaper utilities too.

"You love him?" Ann Marie asked suddenly.

"Well, yeah," Nicole said after a long moment of deliberation. "I mean, he doesn't make me all hot and bothered when I look at him, but Mom, he makes me feel special. Everything he does, he does it for me."

"Let me tell you something," Ann Marie said, voice strained with earnestness. "He does everything, don't let that go, and don't ever throw that away for 'hot and bothered.' Your dad, Cris was the best thing ever and look at what it got me, running after Tom, just because he got me all 'hot and bothered.'"

"Yeah?" Nicole said and rubbed her swollen belly. "You seen my 'hot and bothered' moment, huh?"

"Good, so you already know what I'm talking about," Ann Marie said and affectionately hugged Nicole before leaving the girl's bedroom.

****

He looked around as he stood in line at the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. There were only three people in line ahead of him to sign up for Mexican Cooking' but the woman at the head of the line was arguing shrilly with the instructor, delaying everyone else. 

'Automobile Maintenance,' 'Leather Arts&Crafts,' 'Organic Gardening,' 'Learning Guitar,' and a few other tables were in the hallway, but there was no 'Motorcycle Maintenance' table set up, no April.

"Hi," the woman smiled tiredly and he returned the smile and signed up without asking any questions.

"We meet here, well, actually in the Science Building, Emily Hall?" she said, her accent quite heavy. "Classes are every Thursday night, from six thirty until nine that okay?"

"Sounds great," he smiled and wrote out a check for the tuition. "Who I make this out to?"

She told him the name, laughed at his expression, then spelled it out for him.

"See you Thursday, hope you're hungry," she smiled and he shrugged and sauntered out of the hall.

"That is one sweet bike," a man said as Cris swung his leg over.

"Thanks, it's a piece of American History, a nineteen forty nine Indian Chief, all original parts," Cris smiled and kicked it into life.

"I'd give my left nut to have one of those," the man said.

"Nah, they don't cost that much," Cris smiled. "I just had to give up my cheating wife and bratty kid."

"Where do I sign up for that?" the man laughed.

****

"What the fuck you so happy about?" Zack sneered at Fred as the manager bustled about.

"'Cause, every day, when I wake up and I look in the mirror, it ain't your face looking back," Fred said and finished wiping down the counter.

"Shit, you wish it was this face instead of that ugly ass face you got," Zack sneered and ignored the work that was waiting to be done.

"Wright, think you could actually show a little initiative and do something without me having to tell you to do it?" Fred asked as he took the boxes of sauce packets out to the self-service area.

"What the fuck I want to do that for?" Zack asked.

"'Cause when it comes time for a performance review, I might actually remember it, might actually give you a raise," Fred said and smiled as a middle-aged couple came in.

He smiled wider as he watched the man and woman, both in their late fifties as they looked over the menu above his head. They were holding hands. The man turned to the woman and spoke softly to her and she was intent on every word he said. He could envision he and Nicole doing that in thirty years, holding hands.

Then his smile froze; the woman's eyes were colorless. She was blind. Then his smile returned when they gave each other a quick little kiss and approached his cash register.

"Welcome to Taco Bell; may I take your order?" he asked cheerfully.

"Go ahead, Honey Bunny, tell him what you want," the man gently said.

"Man that is fucking weird," Zack mumbled as he watched the couple.

"Why?" Fred asked defensively. "Why is it fucking weird?"

"I mean, she's all blind and shit, fucking gives me the heebie jeebies just looking at her," Zack said and shuddered.

"God, dude, it is a wonder no one's put you out of our misery," Fred said and smiled at the couple as he walked around the dining area.

"Thank you, come again," he called out as they left.

He laughed out loud when he saw the man playfully pinch her on her buttock and she squealed and laughed and slapped the man's hand away, and then leaned against him. The man led her around to the passenger side of a compact car, and then hurried around to his side.

****

"How you do, Missa Dumas?" Cam Pao, his tenant in Apartment 22 asked as Cris unlocked the door to Apartment 1.

The woman was a Vietnamese refugee, one of the 'boat people' rescued off the coast of San Francisco in 1982. 

She had watched as the Viet Cong pressed her brother into military service, then watched as they killed her crippled father and laughed. 

She had hid underneath a basket while the soldiers raped her mother and her sister, and then shot them dead. Then they helped themselves to the food that her mother had been preparing and left. 

She had grabbed her younger sister and they snuck out of the hut and ran through the paddies south. They stayed off the roads which were often thick with Viet Cong soldiers, hiding in the thick vegetation until silence, or nightfall, whichever came first, and then continued south toward the Americans, toward protection.

When they had seen the American troop out on maneuvers, they smiled and ran toward them, praising Buddha. The burst of machine gun fire behind them had cut her sister in half, and got her in both legs. 

The Americans cut the machine gun bunker down and a Marine actually risked his life running out into the field to see if either girl could be saved. Cam Pao looked on in wonder as the young blond man cried bitterly over her dead sister, a girl he did not even know. 




Ice Heart Ch. 02



She reached out a hand to wipe his tears away, then blackness descended.

She came to in an American Hospital and again praised Buddha for his gift. 

The doctors did what they could, but they could not save her left leg and had to amputate it above the knee. Four days later, the North Vietnamese Army overran the hospital, killing the doctors and then raping and killing the nurses.

The American patients, they killed. The Vietnamese patients, no matter how severe their injuries, were forced to march north. Cam Pao used the crutches the American nurse had given her, had been showing her how to use when the soldiers burst in. When she grew weary, she was slapped and screamed at. She tried very hard not to fall too far back; the stragglers were often executed and their bodies left out on the road, left to rot in the hot sun.

She spent the next eleven years toiling in their fields, toiling and enduring the occasional rape and the more occasional beating; she was not very pretty and was deformed so they would rather beat her than rape her. 

She planned and plotted and saved what food she could and what money she could, determined to someday find the land of the blond haired Americans. 

One day, word spread through the refugees; it had been determined that it was costing more to feed and house them than they were worth to the People. That meant only one thing; they were to be exterminated. Cam Pao ate what she could and secreted extra morsels in her garments. 

As night fell, she slipped into the dense brush behind the hut and quietly made her way toward the river. The old crutches the Americans had given her had been stolen; the wood quite valuable to the soldiers, so she had one crutch she had fashioned out of a stalk of bamboo, then notched for her arm to fit into. It was not comfortable, but it was functional. 

At night she followed the river south, hiding in the jungle during the day. Her meager ration of food had run out; she foraged for bugs and plants to eat as she waited for nightfall. The bamboo sank into the mud along the bank, so her progress was very slow, but she pushed herself onward.

She found a man that had a boat and planned on taking some people to America. Eagerly, she gave him what money she had then let him use her body for his pleasure.

She was alarmed when she saw how small the boat was and even more alarmed when there were more than forty people crammed into the small cavity of the boat.

"No money back," the man barked when others complained or voice concerns.

"Better I drown fighting for my freedom than be slaughtered like a dog," Cam Pao said to herself and joined the wiggling, writhing humanity on the boat.

She and several others grew gravely ill on the journey and she prayed for a speedy end to her suffering.

But then the hatch was lifted and she knew her prayers had been answered; a blond haired man in a Coast Guard uniform looked down at the refugees.

She was fitted with a prosthetic leg at the charity hospital and learned how to use it as if it were her own.

A man in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana had heard of Cam Pao and her fellow travelers and offered six of them employment at his crawfish processing plant. She eagerly accepted the employment and was overwhelmed at the fortune the man was willing to pay them. She found the apartment and had been living there for twenty four years. She rode her bicycle, rain or shine, and evens in the very infrequent snow, but never missed a day of work.

"I'm good, Miss Pao, how are you today?" Cris smiled at the tiny woman. Her long black hair now showed some gray strands, but her small face showed no wrinkles, no sign of her age.

And that was the extent of their conversation; she would greet him, and then lock herself in her apartment.

****

Ann Marie looked around the condominium and felt a little wave of jealousy. She was busting her ass day after day and all she could afford was the dilapidated apartment and Nicole sat around all day long and did nothing and she was living in a two bedroom, two bathroom condominium. The furniture was a little loud; nothing she'd ever pick out for herself, well, maybe the table and chairs, but when wouldn't have stained it that color.

But it still looked a lot nicer than the furniture she'd gotten from the discount warehouse on Cameron Highway.

"Okay, kiddo," Ann Marie said to Sophia, fighting down another wave of resentment; the child was reaching out to Nicole. Working the late shift; be back about ten, ten thirty to get her."

"Thanks, Mom, have a great day," Nicole smiled happily.

"You too, baby," Ann Marie said and left with one final kiss for both daughters.

"I don't think she likes me," Fred quietly said.

"What? Why?" Nicole said and joined him on the sofa.

Sophia grunted and gurgled in her strange language; the child was almost a year old; she should be speaking by now, at least saying 'Mama' or 'dada,' but the child just grunted and chortled.

"She never says 'hi' or nothing," Fred whined.

Fred, hold Sophia for a minute, face her away from me," Nicole said and got up.

"Boo!" she shrieked from behind Sophia.

Fred jumped, startled. Sophia did not move.

"What the fuck?" Fred yelled at Nicole.

Again, Sophia did not react to the loud sound of Fred's response.

"I'm going to do it again," Nicole said, tears beginning to stream from her eyes.

She tried to scream 'Boo,' but could barely sob out the word. Fred looked at the beautiful baby and felt his own tears begin to pool in his eyes.

"Sophia?" he asked. "Baby, can you hear me? Can you hear Sissy? Huh?"

****

Cooking for himself was no fun; there was no Nickie hanging all over him, distracting him, no shrills demands to 'taste' whatever he was stirring.

The Mexican class was fun and there were a few women in the class that let him know he could stir their sauce anytime he wanted to, but he just wasn't in the mood.

"Should have taken Chinese," he mused as he rapidly diced the jalapeno pepper for the green Chile sauce.

"Oh well, it's only for two more weeks," he sighed as he whisked the lime juice and cilantro together.

He'd seen Mickie walking to McDonald's yesterday. Her uniform pants were stretched very snugly across her ample haunches and he developed an immediate erection, and then felt guilty for it.

She'd liked it when he tongued her anus, liked it when he drove two fingers into her anus, but balked at letting him stick his cock in there. Nickie had loudly announced that he was always trying to do that to her too.

He wondered if her pussy was still nice and smooth.

"Damn it," he cursed as the chicken began to burn.

****

"She's, and when did you become a God damned doctor?" Ann Marie snapped angrily as Nicole shared her fears.

"Watch," Fred said firmly, not caring if Ann Marie did not like him or not.

He slapped two telephone books together behind Sophia and the child did not even flinch.

The End.



Ice Heart Ch. 03



*Disclaimer: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

* * * * *

"That is your grandson," Sandra hissed firmly, returning Cris's angry glare with one of her own. "Yes I sent a baby gift to Freddy and I also sent a card too; by the way, Mr. Hard Ass, you owe me; I bought your grandson a five hundred dollar savings bond and a silver rattle with his initials engraved on it."

"Sandra, I swear to God," Cris growled through clenched teeth.

"Oh fire me, all right? Just fire me for giving a shit about you why don't you?" Sandra screamed at her boss, the man she loved almost as much as she loved her husband.

"I'll be back," he snapped and stormed out of the building before he did actually fire his right hand woman, the only reason the office ran as smoothly as it did.

She heard the roar and rumble of his motorcycle, then heard it speed away rapidly.

Highway 52 was perfect; there were few traffic lights to slow down a burning rage. He found a side street every now and then and opened the bike up, letting the powerful engine spit and snarl like a dragon underneath him.

Without realizing it, he came out on Evangeline Throughway, and then followed it down to West Congress Street to University Medical Center.

Fred Dumas did not look at the tall man that cradled a motorcycle helmet under his arm; he was absolutely entranced with Frederick 'Freddy' James Dumas, Junior. 

If ever he had any doubt, any lurking notion that Nicole did not truly love him, the fact that she named her baby after him, made the baby THEIR baby chased them away. He resisted the temptation to rap on the glass of the Maternity ward nursery; Freddy was sleeping peacefully.

"He's a cutie pie, isn't he?" the man said to Fred.

"Yes sir," Fred said. "Yes sir, he is; he's mine. He's my son."

"Congratulations," Cris said. "Shame is, son, they grow up so God damned fast; then all of a sudden they don't even need you anymore. You're just a dumb ass, just a sack of shit don't know nothing but are expected to whip out the wallet whenever they want something."

"Yeah, well, I'm kind of hoping THAT doesn't happen," Fred admitted.

"Good luck, son, good luck," Cris said and walked away.

Ann Marie lugged a struggling, fussing Sophia and looked again. The man that stood and waited by the elevators looked so familiar. tall, muscular, dressed very nicely, even with a motorcycle helmet under his arm. The man turned slightly and Ann Marie smiled lightly; he was handsome, even with a bald pate and some gray in the wisps that circled the side of his head.

Then she froze; those brown eyes were Cris's eyes. The elevator door chimed open and Cris stepped in and then hit the button for the first floor.

"Your father was here?" she asked Nicole.

"Daddy's here?" Nicole asked, surprised, excited, and a little embarrassed.

"No, he WAS here," Ann Marie said, slightly disappointed.

She'd hoped to hear from Nicole how he was doing, what was new in his life. She kept in touch with Sandra; Harriet let her use the computer at work and Sandra was always very quick to respond to her e-mails, but Sandra was a master at not divulging any pertinent details. 

She'd known about Nickie's suicide, even knew of Sandra's dislike of the flighty girl, but knew nothing of Cris's further descent into hardness. Until today, she did not even know that Cris had a motorcycle, as evidenced by the helmet under his arm.

Truthfully, she was hoping to hear that Cris missed her; that he wanted her back in his life. She was hoping to hear that she had been forgiven her little indiscretion, her mistake.

She gritted her teeth in anger as Sophia kept reaching out to Nicole, kept trying to get Nicole to hold her.

"Hey, there she is!" Hank called out from the doorway. "There's the girl made me a great grandfather!"

Ann Marie cringed. Ever since Momma's death, Daddy was drinking, a lot. As he entered the room, she could smell the alcohol sweating from his pores.

"Hi Grandpa," Nicole said and craned up for a kiss.

"So, you named him after me, right?" Hank asked, ignoring Ann Marie, Sophia and Fred.

"No, Grandpa, I named him after his daddy," Nicole said and brushed his hand away from her breast.

His touches, ever since grandma's death, while never blatant, were inappropriate. His hands always seemed to be brushing against her breasts, or her backside, even as her belly grew larger and larger. She vowed to herself she would not be leaving Sophia alone with the old drunkard.

It did not occur to Nicole that this was not a choice for her to make; Sophia was not her child.

"Aw, why'd you go off and do that for?" Hank playfully whined.

"Because I love him," Nicole declared.

"And don't you love your Grandpa?" Hank asked, placing his hand on Nicole's upper thigh.

"You seen the baby yet?" Fred asked, keeping his anger in check.

The man's drunken gropes of Nicole made him physically ill. His pretense that Fred, Ann Marie and Sophia were not in the room was a source of dislike, but it was the attempts to touch Nicole that really bothered him.

"Hmm? No, no, I haven't; they bringing him in here?" Hank asked.

"No, not for another hour or two; they'll bring him in when it's time for his lunch," Fred said and pulled Hank's hand off Nicole's thigh. "Come on, Mr. Campion, I'll show you Freddy."

"Hey, you breast feeding him, right?" Hank asked.

"Oh, my GOD!" Nicole gasped when Fred successfully pulled the drunken letch out of the room.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Ann Marie admitted.

"You?" Nicole asked. "It's not you he's got his hands all over!"

Ann Marie's opinion of Fred James Dumas changed dramatically. Yes, he worked at a fast food restaurant, as a manager, but it was still just a fast food restaurant. Yes, his car was a much older model, and his taste in both clothing and furniture left a lot to be desired, and he needed a haircut; he wasn't fooling anyone, he was going bald. But his devotion to Nicole and Nicole's happiness was very evident. His only wish was to make Nicole happy, and to protect her.

"So, when're you getting out of here?" Ann Marie asked.

"I wanted to ask you about that, Mom," Nicole said. "I talked with Fred and he agrees it's a good idea; Mom can you and Sophia come and stay with me for a couple of weeks, you know, until I can, until I know what I'm doing?"

"What?" Ann Marie asked. "But Honey, it's just a two bedroom, right?

"The couch pulls out into a queen sized bed," Fred said, coming back into the room.

"Mom, I need you; I'm really scared," Nicole admitted. "I mean, suppose what happened to Mikey happens to Freddy? I think I'd die if that ever happened and..."

"You sure?" Ann Marie asked Fred.

"Yes ma'am," Fred said. "I want you there and Nicole needs you there."

"Where's Grandpa?" Nicole asked.

"Sent him to get us some doughnuts from Meche's," Fred smiled. "My old man's an alcoholic too, can't say no to anything sweet."

"My dad's not a..." Ann Marie started to protest, and then stopped.

****

"Still mad at me?" Sandra asked him.

"Furious is more like it," he said and reached for the cup of coffee.

"Well, tough toenails, huh?" Sandra said and left the office.

That night, as he dressed for the cooking class, he slipped on the lime green pull over she'd picked out for him. He then pulled on the faded button fly jeans she'd insisted he buy, and the casual leather shoes she'd picked out. The rumble of thunder made him realize he was glad she'd insisted he leave the company car in front of his apartment.

She meddled in his life, made decisions for him that he would not make, did not want to make, and he was better for it.

"I better buy her a card or something," he said aloud.

The drugstore had a miniscule 'I'm Sorry' card selection, but he finally settled on the least mushy or poetic one.

Then he picked up a large pack of gum; she was always chomping on gum and he was always making her spit it out.

"I afraid you skip on us," the instructor groused when he arrived a few minutes late, dripping wet from the rain shower.

"Nah, I got too many avocadoes in my refrigerator," Cris smiled.

"Ah perfect for tonight's dish!" she laughed then launched into the explanation of the soup and its preparation.

****

Ann Marie watched as Fred held Sophia in his lap and showed the infant the sign language out of the book he had on the couch next to them.

"Happy," he said and showed her the movements, then manipulated her hands, her arms in the same way.

"Birth. Day," he said, doing the signs, and then doing the sign with her hands.

"You," he said and then tickled her as he pointed to her.

"What's he doing?" Ann Marie asked Nicole.

"Teaching her to sing 'Happy Birthday,'" Nicole said. "Her birthday's next week."

"Happy," Fred said, making the sign for 'Happy' again.

Ann Marie watched the young man and felt the sting of tears as he slowly, lovingly taught her daughter.

"He wants to be a teacher some day," Nicole confided to Ann Marie. "Taco Bell has this program; they contribute so much to a college fund depending on how many hours you work there.

****

"Ah, come in, come in," François Timmons smiled coldly as the two burly men hustled Tom Sampo into the cramped office.

Tom smiled, despite the swollen eye and split lip. He knew very well who Francois Timmons was; he had been sleeping with Greta Timmons, Francois's twenty five year old wife. 

Francois had seen the six foot tall German beauty as he was on holiday on the island of Crete. Although she was only nineteen, and he fifty one, he lavished her with many gifts and paid all expenses for her and her mother and father and two younger brothers. They were wed before the week came to an end, before their holiday on Crete was to end. Every year, on the anniversary of their wedding, Francois flew her father and mother and two brothers out to Crete, where he and Greta would meet them and spend two weeks on holiday.

Six years later, she felt that biological need to be a mother, but Francois would not entertain the idea.

"I am too old," he said. "I do not have the energy to chase after toddlers; I do not have the patience to put up with crying and fussing babies."

So when she met Tom at the exhibition of the fall line up at her favorite couture house, she decided whether Francois liked it or not, they were going to have a baby. Tom was tall; good looking, and blond, whereas Francois was short and fat and what hair he had left was gray.

"So you have been enjoying the attention of my Greta, eh?" Francois asked mildly.

Tom smiled. He had known who Greta was, and who her husband was. Screwing the tall beauty had been a nice diversion, one he recorded without Greta's knowledge. He planned to show the dumpy, sniveling Francois Timmons the evidence, then ask for two million Euros to leave the blonde beauty alone, leaving Francois with some dignity.

After the beating Francois Timmons's goons had given him, though, the price to leave great alone had doubled. And if he would not pay, the Internet would be a good place to let the world know of Francois Timmons's humiliation.

"It is a shame what has happened to her, is it not?" Francois interrupted Tom's sales pitch.

"What, what do you mean?" Tom asked.

"Oh? You did not hear?" the old man smiled coldly. "A real tragedy. She was out at the nightclubs and staggered, too drunk to be out alone, you know, in front of a speeding car. No one saw the car or the driver; a hit and run, the driver sped away before anyone could get out there."

Tom's blood ran cold; he had picked the wrong beauty to seduce.

:Of course, we all understand, since her blood will be found on your bumper, your headlight smashed," Francois said, smiling all the while. "So it is only natural that you would commit suicide; you were very distraught over her death."

"You can't," Tom protested.

****

Happy birthday to you," they sang and signed.

Sophia chortled happily; she recognized what they were doing and joined in. Then she saw the cake with the one candle flickering and was transfixed by the flame.

"So what's the sign for 'make a wish?'" Ann Marie asked Fred.

"Don't know, didn't look that up," he admitted.

"I'll make one for you," Nicole said and blew out the candle for her sister.

It was just the five of them; Sophia, Nicole, Ann Marie, Fred, and Freddy. Since Sophia spent all of her time with Nicole, she had no peers to invite to her party. Since Ann Marie worked all the time, she had no friends with children that she could have invited. Fred didn't invite any of his co-workers, even though two of the girls did have children of their own.

Ann Marie thought briefly of inviting Hank. She decided, though, she didn't want him there. He would most likely be drunk, and would most likely ogle Nicole and try to grope her.

Sophia's eyes widened as she tasted the sweet icing and the spongy cake. She immediately opened her mouth for more and Ann Marie laughed out loud, a genuinely happy laugh. 

Then she gave Sophia her bottle, which was filled with fruit punch. The only sweet taste Sophia had ever had was apple juice; the fruit punch was a taste sensation to her. She frantically, vigorously sucked at the bottle until it was finished, then signed 'More.'

"Yeah, she knows THAT sign," Fred laughed and took the bottle to refill it.

"Not too much," Ann Marie warned. "I want her to sleep sometime today."

"Okay, let's take a look at all these presents," Ann Marie said and she and Nicole got down on the floor to help the girl open the gifts.

She wasn't fooled; she knew the tricycle did not come from Cris, but from Sandra. The same was true of the wooden train set.

"Wow, that is nice," Fred said as he looked at the train set.

****

Maria Espanoza may be a wonderful cook and a wonderful teacher but her qualifications as a lover fell far short of Cris's criteria. 

"True," he reflected. "I am judging her up against Nickie and Nickie was fifteen years younger than Maria, but..."

She praised his cooking as he prepared the authentic Mexican dishes and the custard dessert, but was highly critical of his kitchen and his apartment in general.

"All electric?" she sneered. "Oh no no no, gas. Gas is spiritual; electric has no soul, it robs the food of its essence."

"You are a grown man, with a good job, and yet you live like a college student?" she sneered as she looked around the one room apartment.

When she opened the door to the closet and peered in, Cris was ready to ask her to leave. The door was closed for a reason.

After all of her criticisms, after finding all the flaws and faults of his living arrangements, his lifestyle, she still wanted to make love.

You don't need a condom," she laughed and rubbed her lush figure against him. "Had my tubes tied."

"Uh huh," Cris said, not believing her. "But this is so much neater."

Her long black hair was lush and thick, as was the hair under her flabby arms and on her pussy. The hair actually ran down her thighs and up her belly to just under her breasts.

Ann Marie had been hairy, had sported a thick bush, but nothing like this and Cris did find it a bit of a turn-off. Even her anus was covered in a dense growth of hair.

"Oh, ah, you like the pussy, eh?" she laughed and cooed as he parted her thick hair aside and lapped at her very dry pussy.

No, he would keep the condom on. She wasn't making love with him because she wanted him, because she found him attractive, because she had a physical need. She was having sex with him as a form of control, as a 'reward' for good behavior.

Afterward, she lighted a cigarette and was shocked when Cris grabbed it out of her hand and threw it into the toilet.

"I hate the smell of cigarette smoke," he said, almost angrily as he returned to the room.

"Oh, sorry," she said, in a tone that said she was more angry than apologetic.

"You need to sell that motorbike," she said as she lazily played with is limp cock.

"Don't think so," he said.

"Oh, come on, it's dangerous," she said, looking up at him.

"Look, Maria," he sighed, getting out of the bed and pulling on his jeans. "It's late. You were a great teacher, it was fun taking your class, but I don't think we'll be seeing each other anymore, okay?"

"But, but," she sputtered. "What about, we just, what about this?"

She flung the covers back and indicated her pudgy, hairy body.

"What about it?" he asked as he pulled his shirt on. "Look, Maria, we ate, we fucked, you didn't enjoy it..."

"Oh but I did!" she protested. "You're a wonderful lover!"

"Honey," he smiled tightly. "I was married for eighteen years; I can tel the difference between a real orgasm and a 'hurry up and get it over with, my favorite show is on' orgasm."

She had misjudged him; in class he was always so malleable, so eager to follow instructions. In class, he was so non-assertive; she figured he would be the same outside of the class. He already knew how to eat pussy; she'd almost orgasmed from his tongue and did have a mild one when she thought of making him lick her hairy ass, making him clean her ass hole with his tongue. 

As he drove his cock into her, she did have a mild orgasm at the thought of putting on her large strap-on cock and reaming his tight little ass, pounding it in and out of his bowels until he bled. She would make him eat her pussy when it was her time of the month, and if he had not put that condom on, if he was unlucky enough to get her pregnant, he would pay and pay dearly, but he had insisted on wearing a condom. In the future, he would learn, would learn he did not get to insist on anything.

But he was throwing her out, and telling her there would be no second time.

****

Bone deafness. The doctor, Mona Walberg was telling her it was bone deafness; the hoped for cochlear implant would do no good, would not restore any hearing to the infant.

"Poor Fred," Ann Marie thought as she loaded the infant into her car seat. "He researched it all, printed out all that information, located the doctor in DeGarde that specialized in Pediatric Cochlear implants; even offered to pay for it out of the money he was saving for college.

"Poor Sophia," Ann Marie thought as she looked in the rear view mirror at the child. "She'll be like that for the rest of her life, deaf as a doornail."

She almost didn't see the Harley chopper and the rider gave her a finger in outrage.

"Same to you buddy," Ann Marie thought as she watched the bike go past.

"Fucking female drivers," Cris thought as he turned off of Highway 19.

The bike was a beauty and handled very well. Best of all; his kidneys weren't bouncing around inside of his guts. He loved the Indian Chief, loved its power and even appreciated the fact that it was a rolling piece of history. But he had to admit, comfort had not been part of its design.

"Well, what you think?" George Farmer asked when Cris pulled back into the parking lot of George's Garage.

"Nice and soft," Cris smiled. "If it were wet, it'd be like riding a pussy."

"Uh huh, and if Big Mike was around, he'd beat your ass for saying that," George laughed.

"And he's asking seventeen, huh?" Cris asked.

He looked over at the other mechanic, legs sticking out from under the truck, sound asleep.

"Yeah, but between you and me," George said, looked at John Farmer, and looked away in embarrassment. "Been trying to sell it now for two months, probably take fifteen if it's cash."

"Tell him fifteen, cash," Cris said and got on his Indian. "Got my card, huh?"

"Yeah," George smiled.

"What's he selling it for anyway?" Cris asked before starting his bike.

"Old lady's in rehab, heroin, racking up a bunch of bills," George admitted.

****

"Why drink alone when you can have a little company?" Hank thought as he dressed. "Never did like drinking alone anyway."




Ice Heart Ch. 03



The bar was cool, inviting. He found a stool at the bar with ease; there were only four other people in the bar, himself, two men in cheap suits, a haggard looking woman, and the bartender, another haggard looking woman.

"Heya cutie," the bartender smiled tiredly.

It had been a while since anyone called him 'cutie,' and he sat up a little straighter and smiled at the woman. He made sure she saw the one hundred dollar bill and the second one as he peeled it out of his money clip.

"Baby, ain't got nothing smaller?" Jill asked. "It's only eleven o'clock; I don't have the change for that."

"If only I had a nickel for every time a woman said that to me," Hank boasted and she giggled.

He peeled off a twenty dollar bill and she made change.

Five hours later, some of the regulars started coming in, the jukebox started blaring the loud rock and roll music the afternoon crowd liked and the talk got loud and raucous.

Hank's good mood soured as the younger men got more of Jill's attention and he staggered to his feet and out of the door.

"Bunch of God damned punks," he muttered to himself, started his car, and pulled out onto Johnson Street, right in front of a school bus.

****

"That was your father," Sandra spat when an enraged Cris asked about the bill from the florist.

"I hope and pray you at least had the decency to make them arrange them to look like tap dancing shoes," he said.

"No," she said, hands on hips. "I had the decency to express your sincere sympathy and hope that he is at peace."

"What?" he yelled, and then burst out laughing, a harsh and bitter laugh. "No, I hope the son of a bitch spends all eternity roasting like a marshmallow."

"God's watching you, and He's listening to you," Sandra warned, waggling a finger at him. "You better watch it or He'll get you."

"He's not Santa Claus, Sandra," Cris laughed. "He's not making a list of who's naughty or nice."

"Know why Santa's always so jolly?" Sweet William asked as he strolled in.

"No, why?" Cris asked, letting a rare genuine smile crack his face.

"'Cause he knows where all the naughty girls live," Sweet William laughed. "Man, I want a bad ass bike like that! Ooh we! Them flames! Too sweet!"

"Like that, huh?" Cris asked. "Yeah, had the thing painted green, believe that? Green! So I took it in, had them paint it black with flames."

"You'll be feeling flames soon enough, you're not careful," Sandra warned.

"You go to Hank's funeral?" Sweet William asked.

"No, but I might go visit his grave," Cris said. "Make sure I drink a gallon of water first."

"Man, that ain't right and you know it," Sweet William said, losing his smile.

"I hope you can knock some sense into his head," Sandra said, leaving the office.

Chapter 10

Nicole swallowed her nerves and got out of the car. She didn't recognize the two cars in front of the building, nor the motorcycle. 

The building itself hadn't changed in the eight years since the last time she'd come to Daddy's office. The parking lot was still just a pile of clam shells raked out to give an area for the cars. The vinyl siding that made up the exterior was gray, with a broad red stripe painted all along the front of the building. The red stripe was severely faded; it had been severely faded the last time she'd seen it. The glass door was heavily tinted so that you couldn't see in.

She reached out with her left hand to open the door and her eyes were immediately drawn to the half-carat diamond that adorned it. Her heart gave a little leap of happiness. Her man loved her and wanted to make it forever. 

He'd asked Ann Marie to watch Freddy for a couple of hours and Nicole had used the breast pump and filled up a couple of bottles for him, then put on a nice little sun dress, yellow with red flowers, and Fred took her to Don's Seafood Hut. 

Then he drove them out to Broussard and took her up in a tethered hot-air balloon.

She marveled as she looked out over Lafayette and the surrounding countryside in the last light of the day. It was truly a beautiful, almost breathtaking sight.

"Nicole," Fred said as he stood behind her, holding her tightly. "I know I'm not real handsome, and I know you could do a lot better than me..."

"Says who?" she asked, and twisted in his arms to kiss him. "Baby, I've never had anyone even half as good as you."

"Nicole, I want you, want you forever," he said and slowly got to his knees in front of her. "So I'm asking you, begging you to, will you marry me."

Nicole looked at the ring in his hand, then got down on her knees in front of him and looked him, brown eyes to brown eyes.

"No, Baby," she said, tears starting to fall from her eyes. "I'M begging YOU if you'll marry me."

"That's about a 'Yes' ever I heard one, yeah," the man operating the balloon said and laughed as Nicole and Fred clung tightly to each other.

Am Marie was bubbling with excitement as Nicole and Fred came home; Fred had clued her in on his plans.

"Well?" she demanded.

She had tolerated the man when she first met him. Barely. "Thankfully," she had thought, "I'm not the one dating him." But seeing his devotion to Nicole, to her, to their son, to Sophia, and to herself, she realized what Nicole had seen in the man. She realized that she not only accepted him, but loved him.

"Momma, Fred asked me to marry him," Nicole gushed, thrusting out the ring for her mother's approval.

"And Nicole asked me to marry her," Fred chimed in, scrawny chest puffed out with pride.

Sandra looked up, stricken, when Nicole entered the lobby.

Cris was in a foul mood; months of sample collection in Nigeria were found to be tampered with and they had to make a multi-million dollar decision. Go back to Nigeria, sidestep an extremely corrupt government, contend with terrorist faction groups, and try to get accurate soil samples and seismic readings, or scrap the entire project. 

He had gone there himself and spent nearly three weeks, trapped in his hotel room; the corrupt government waylaid him, tied him up in paperwork and attempted to exhort bribes from him in order to clear him to visit his own office and work site in Nigeria. 

So Norman James was holding him personally responsible for the success or failure of this trip.

And now his daughter, his daughter that had estranged herself from him for over two years was standing here. Cris was going to hit the roof, most likely have a coronary.

"What are you doing here?" Sandra hissed, trying to keep Cris from hearing her.

Nicole was both puzzled and hurt by Sandra's reaction.

"I, I come to see my Daddy," she said.

"Oh Nicole, I wish you had called first," Sandra groaned. "Now is just not a good time!"

"What do you want?" Cris asked from the doorway of his office.

"Hi Daddy," Nicole smiled and practically skipped over to him.

Daddy had changed since the last time she'd seen him. The last time she'd seen him, he had on a frumpy, wrinkled suit, a ridiculous hairpiece and his skin was grey, lifeless. 

This Daddy had a bald head, but a healthy tan, a tailored suit, stood erect, not slumped over, not sunken in.

"Hi, what do you want?" he asked harshly.

"Um, I'm um, I'm getting married," Nicole said, feeling almost as if she'd been struck from the icy rebuff.

"Congratulations, that still doesn't tell me why you're here," Cris said flatly.

"At least talk to her," Sandra begged.

"Nothing to talk about; she cut me out of her life years ago. Just took me a while to notice it," Cris barked at Sandra.

"Daddy?" Nicole asked, feeling physically ill. 

"What?" he spat out.

"I'm um, I'm getting married next month, his name is Fred Dumas, isn't that funny? I won't even have to change my name and I was hoping you'd walk me down the aisle," Nicole stammered, choking down the bile in her throat.

"Get Tom Sampo to do it," he said and returned to his desk.

"I um, he's not a part of my life any more," Nicole said from the doorway.

"Damn shame," Cris said. "'Cause you made good and God damned sure I'm not either."

"Daddy, I'm sorry," Nicole said.

"So am I, you selfish, self-centered little bitch," he spat. "So am I."

"Cris!" Sandra shrilled.

"What?" Cris yelled. "She has to hear it! Hasn't seen me in over two years and the only damned reason she's here now is, surprise, surprise, she wants something!"

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a file and threw it on his desk.

"Nineteen ninety seven, I had to turn down a manager's position in Santa Barbara, California. Why?" He said. "Because you had just started at Saint Thomas Moore and were trying out for the cheerleading squad. Didn't make it, but that promotion went to Vince Guidry. Know what his bonus was first year he was out there? One million eight."

"I didn't, how I'm supposed to know Chelsea didn't want me on the squad?" Nicole defended, shaking.

"Two thousand, I'm asked to take over vice-president of Pilot, move out to Houston," Cris went on. "Had to respectfully decline because my daughter was training with a tennis coach, even though they got tennis coaches in Houston. Ernie Brazwell got it instead. I don't even want to tell you what his bonus was last year."

He put the file back into the desk drawer and looked at her.

"Tell me, Nicole, how's that tennis thing coming?" he said nastily.

"I um," she said, and then disappeared from the doorway.

Cris heard her retching and heard Sandra cooing and murmuring words of comfort.

"Daddy, I'm really sorry," Nicole said a moment later, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Uh huh," he said. "Tell me, Nicole, how long was I gone before you even noticed I wasn't there?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Uh huh," he said. "Let's see, I gave up vice-presidency of Pilot for your tennis lessons and went to one match. One. And the only reason I went to that was because I overheard your mother talking about it to one of her friends. Any idea what that feels like, Nicole? To not even be invited to your daughter's tennis matches? Nicole, you were my sun and my moon, and you just slammed the door in my face? Any idea what that's like?"

"Daddy, I, I..." Nicole stammered, tears streaming down her face.

"And your eighteenth birthday party; my little girls' now an adult, but I was asked not to be there," he went on. "Make myself scarce."

"Daddy, we..." Nicole said.

"Nicole!" Sandra said, shocked that a daughter would ask her father not to attend a party.

"And your high school graduation, no invitation, but I did so love the little message you wrote on the envelope I sent you," Cris went on.

He could hear Sandra tut-tutting that.

"Then you have a baby; I'm a grandfather, but I don't hear about it from you; Sandra has to be the one to tell me about it," he said. "And love the 'thank you' card for the rattle and savings bond." (There had been no 'thank you' card.)

He turned to face his computer monitor.

"Beautiful last words I heard out of you, too, 'God Dad, you're being such an ass hole.' Well, guess what, Nicole? Dad's going to be an ass hole from now on," he said and clicked on an icon on the screen.

"And now you're here because you're getting married," he said and started to type on the keyboard. "Well, la de fucking dah but I won't be there. Congratulations, Nicole, you got what you wanted; me out of your life."

****

The school bus driver and the parents of several of the children on the bus sued the estate of Henry 'Hank' Joseph Campion, as well as the bar. Any inheritance Ann Marie would have received from his one hundred thousand dollar life insurance policy was quickly devoured by the numerous law suits.

"They're putting a lien on me?" she wailed to the lawyer from Young Insurance.

"I'm sure it'll come to nothing," he nervously tried to assure her.

"Uh huh, can I get that in writing?" she snapped and hustled to bring another pot of coffee out to the customer that had been trying to get her attention while the lawyer was talking to her.

"Nothing from nothing leaves anything," Harriet said and the lawyer left the diner.

"Oh, God, why even bother?" Ann Marie wailed.

"'Cause you got a daughter needs you, got another daughter says she's an adult, but she needs you too," Harriet shrugged.

"Uh huh," Ann Marie said and pasted on a smile for the handsome young man that came into the diner.

"So, how long you been with Pilot?" she asked as she recognized the PPEDI logo on his shirt.

"Um, four months; you know what Pilot is?" he said, surprised.

"Yeah, my hus, my ex-husband is the president of the Louisiana division," she said and set the silverware down on the table.

"Mr. Dumas?" the man asked. "Man, he's a hard ass! Can't blame you for leaving him!"

****

"Hey, Wright!" the manager yelled into the darkened stockroom. "Some girl's out here wants to see you!"

"Yeah?" he smirked, assuming some customer had seen him, saw how hot he was, how no one else could rock her world like he could, and was asking for him.

"Aw, man, what the fuck you want?" he spat, seeing Nicole.

After her brutal confrontation with her father, she was almost desensitized to Zack's outburst.

"Hey, there somewhere we can talk?" she asked.

"Smoking area out back," the manager said.

Zack looked at her. She really was a beautiful girl; long thick brown hair, warm brown eyes, full dick sucking lips, nice tits and a cute ass. All that beauty hid a real stuck up bitch.

"Look, Fred and me are getting married," she started off.

"That fucking loser?" he laughed.

"He's not a fucking loser; he's ten times the man you'll ever be," she spat, eyes flashing angrily.

"Yeah, whatever," Zack sneered.

"Look, I came to tell you I don't want no more child support from you," Nicole said. "I want you to give up all rights to Freddy altogether, okay?"

"Yeah, and what's in it for me?" Zack asked, smirking at her.

"What's in it, oh come on Zack!" Nicole shrilled. "The baby's almost six months old now and you ain't never once come out to see him! And you won't have to be sending me a hundred a week no more. What else you want?"

"Yeah, you right," he said and flicked his cigarette toward the overflowing ashtray.

"Okay, I got these papers off the Internet; you just sign here and here," she said and pulled the papers out of her purse.

"At least one thing went right today," she thought as she got back into Ann Marie's car and drove back to her home, the home she and Fred and Freddy and Momma and Sophia shared.

****

Norman James was not happy with Cris's decision to 'wash their hands' of Nigeria.

"Norman, by the time we get the go-ahead from this government official, he's either killed off, or forced out of office and then we got to start all over again; I say it's just not worth it," Cris said into the phone. "No, no, they 'SAY' they want our business, but they really just want our dollars and screw doing anything for it."

He ignored Sandra's hateful glare as she brought him the cup of coffee.

"Fine, fine, send Guidry out there, see if he can do any better," he said tersely. "I just know I ain't going back to that shit hole."

"Your own daughter?" Sandra hissed and Cris waved her away.

"Fine, if that's how you really see it, I'll fax you my resignation effective immediately," Cris said. "It has been my pleasure to be of service to you for these many years but..."

He hung up and took the cup of coffee and blew on it before taking a large gulp.

"God damn it, Sandra! He yelled. "Sweet and Low? I HATE Sweet and Low!"

She reappeared in the doorway of his office, smirking at his consternation.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said in a voice that let him know she wasn't sorry at all. "I meant to put salt in it."

"Why didn't you just spit in it?" he asked her as she took the offensive cup of coffee from him.

"What makes you think I didn't?" she asked and left the office.

****

Ann Marie stared at Nicole as Nicole recounted her conversation with Cris.

"You are kidding me," she finally said. "That doesn't sound like him at all!"

"I mean, he brought up all this stuff from like two years ago," Nicole sniffed and took Freddy from her breast and gently burped him.

"Want me to go have talk with him?" Fred asked angrily.

"That's sweet, but, no, no, he was pretty mad with me; don't need you getting into it too," Nicole said, soothing Fred's male ego.

"Oh I wish I still had his phone number!" Ann Marie spat. "I would give him a piece of my mind, that's for sure!"

****

He got onto his motorcycle, kicked it into life, and roared away. There had been no tearful good-byes; he'd not told Sandra that he'd faxed in his resignation, Charlie Wertmuller, the vice-president of the Louisiana Division was the only one he'd told.  

Charlie had merely shrugged, shaken Cris's hand, wished him well, then sat back down at his desk.

Cris felt a huge weight lifted from his shoulders and wondered why he had not done these years ago. He pulled up to the apartment building, parked his bike in the small shed he'd built behind the building, next to his Indian Chief and locked the shed.

Cam Pao's garden was looking very nice; the peppers were large and a deep rosy red. The tomatoes were fat, pulling the vine down. Her summer squash looked succulent. She'd told him if he ever wanted any of the vegetables that grew out in her garden, he could just help himself, but he did not. She worked hard on each individual plant; each individual vegetable received her attention.

He smiled; the 'scarecrow' she'd erected looked exactly like her; cone shaped straw hat, loose top and pajama bottoms fluttering in the breeze, stick in hand, tilling the soil.

He went into his apartment, fixed himself a stiff gin and vermouth, took a sip and smiled. It was a good drink, a fitting toast to a good day.

The visit from his daughter had been a bit of a cloud on the day; he really did not like to be reminded of his past life. A life when he bent over backward to make others happy and denied himself any happiness, denied himself any creature comforts just so that others could be happy.

"Well, didn't make them very happy, now did it?" he said aloud, the gin and vermouth beginning to sour in his gut. "Had to run off, fuck somebody else. And how long? Huh, Nicole, just how long was I gone before you even noticed I wasn't there any more?"

He poured the drink down the sink, debated with himself on what to have for dinner, and then decided he wasn't very hungry. Besides that, the pickings were slim in the refrigerator; tomorrow was his grocery day.

Maybe resigning wasn't such a great thing after all. Work gave him refuge from the non-stop barrage of thoughts. Work gave him somewhere to pour his resentments and his bitterness. Work gave him a sense of purpose, of definition.

He knew he had a reputation of being a hard task-master, of being a hard-ass. He knew that the majority of his employees did not like him, spoke ill of him behind his back.

"Well, maybe they'll like Charlie Wertmuller better," he said, stripped out of his suit and tie and stretched out on his bed.

****

Cam Pao woke up when she heard the motorcycle start up. She peered out of the window to see Missah Cris, dressed in leather jacket and blue jeans ride off, duffel bag draped across the seat behind him.

****

"Where the hell is your boss?" Ann Marie shrilled as she stormed into the building.

Sandra smiled tightly as she pointed to Charlie's door.

The man was a horse's ass; a buffoon that had been riding Cris's coat tails for years, but believed he could do a much better job than Cris Dumas. In Sandra's opinion, the man was in for a much deserved rude awakening.

"Just what the fuck do you mean...?" Ann Marie screamed then stopped as a frightened Charlie Wertmuller looked at her.




Ice Heart Ch. 03



"Very funny," Ann Marie screamed at Sandra. "Where the fuck is Cris?"

"Don't know," Sandra said, truthfully. "Faxed in his resignation then left yesterday, hopped on his Harley and rode off into the sunset."

"Resign...Cris resigned?" Ann Marie asked, stunned.

"By the way, I like your hair short like that," Sandra said.

"He, but he LOVES this job," Ann Marie sputtered.

"Want some coffee?" Sandra asked as Ann Marie sat down heavily in the small chair in front of Sandra's rotunda.

"Thanks," Ann Marie said as she took the offered cup.

"And how is Sophia doing?" Sandra asked. "I was real sorry to hear she's deaf, but they're doing all sorts of..."

"And just who, may I ask is this?" Charlie demanded as he stood in the doorway of his office.

"This is Ann Marie Sampo, Cris's former wife," Sandra said and went on talking to Ann Marie as if Charlie wasn't standing there, glaring at the two of them.

****

A diner in Monroe, Louisiana offered him a weak cup of coffee and some greasy eggs. He kept an eye on his bike; there were a few admirers that looked over at it. One teenaged girl actually touched the handlebars reverently, then came in and spoke to the waitress, who pointed at Cris. The girl's face fell slightly as she spotted a middle aged man eating his breakfast.

"Sorry I'm not the bad ass you were looking for," Cris smiled to himself and rubbed his smooth chin. "Think a beard would help?"

The girl looked like she wanted to say something as Cris strapped down the duffel bag and started the powerful engine. Her mouth opened when Cris purposefully made eye contact with her, but she closed it, blushed hotly, and then went back inside the diner.

****

"He's right, though," Nicole said as she cleaned up Sophia's lunch.

"What?" Fred looked up from the game show he was watching. "Who's right?"

"My Daddy," Nicole said as she made the signs for 'All done,' to Sophia. "Only time I ever said anything's when I needed something, then I don't say nothing for two years?"

She looked over at Fred, already dressed in his Taco Bell uniform, even though he didn't have to be at work for two hours. Most of the employees waited until they got to work to change into their uniforms but he wore his with pride. He was a good man, a sweet man.

"You got some stamps?" she asked.

"Yeah, "Junk drawer," he said, pointing to the drawer. "Why?"

"I'm going send him some pictures of Freddy," she said. "We got bunches of them, right?"

Fred got her an envelope and quickly found the stamps, after Nicole dug around fir five minutes looking for them.

"Shut up, smart ass," she groused and jerked them out of his hand.

She didn't have an address for her father, so she just addressed the envelope to PPEDI's office in DeGarde.

****

The diner in Alistair, Missouri gave him a bit of a chilly reception and he kept an even closer eye on his motorcycle.

He paid the bill and walked outside. Three young men were standing around and a fourth one sat on Cris's bike.

"Hey, lard ass, get the fuck off my bike," Cris demanded.

"Fuck you, old man," the kid sneered, much to the delight of the others.

"No, but how 'bout I let you suck my cock?" Cris asked, and then slammed his fist in the smug youth's mouth.

One of the other boys took a swing at Cris and Cris easily blocked it and elbowed the kid in the ribs, hard.

"Uh uh, let's make this a fair fight," Cris heard a man say, and then heard the sound of a pump shotgun being pumped.

The other two kids immediately ran off, leaving their two buddies to fend for themselves.

"You," the trucker said, indicating the first kid, the one that had been sitting on Cris's bike. "You tell the nice man you're real sorry you was sitting on his bike; you ain't had no business doing that."

"Fuck off, ass hole, the kid sobbed, feeling his loose teeth gingerly with his finger.

"Thanks," Cris said sincerely.

"Uh huh, I'm a biker myself, hate when these punk ass kids think it's all right cop a squat just 'because it's sitting there. So, what's the '1041' stand for?" the trucker said, opening the door to a big rig.

"That's what time the clock said when I decided to change my life," Cris said.

"Well, has a good one, Ten Forty one," the trucker said and put the shotgun back into the truck before going into the diner.

"My old man's a fucking lawyer, sue your fucking ass for everything you got," the kid with the loose teeth whined.

"Tell him to bite me," Cris said, kicked the bike into life, spit on the kid, and then drove out of the parking lot.

****

"He just quit and Sandra don't know where he is; called his phone and everything and there wasn't any answer," Ann Marie told Harriet.

"Still carrying a torch, huh?" Harriet asked.

Ann Marie stopped, looked at her boss hard for a moment, then slowly nodded her head yes.

"Yeah, you know what?" she said. I kind of do. I mean, he's always been..."

"Uh huh, let me ask you something," Harriet said. "You still be carrying that torch if Mr. Wonderful hadn't been such a snake in the grass?"

"What you mean?" Ann Marie asked.

"You know damned good and well what I mean," Harriet laughed. "If Tom Sampo hadn't been such a low life con man and a crook and hadn't run off with all your money, you still stand there pining after Cris Dumas?"

"Probably not," Ann Marie agreed, ashamed.

"Man's waiting for them fries," Harriet reminded Ann Marie. 

****

"Let them bitch," Cris thought as he brought the bike into the motel room. 

He did spread newspapers on the carpet, even though he thought a grease stain might actually improve the very well worn carpet and parked the bike on the papers. The bike should not leak; he maintained it lovingly, but he didn't want the motel coming back on him, claiming he damaged their property.

His cell phone buzzed, reminding him that he had at least one message. There were actually five, all from Sandra.

The first one was about her disappointment in him for quitting and not telling her. The second one was about Ann Marie's visit. The third was her asking where he was; she stopped by his apartment at lunch, and the funny little Chinese lady said 'Missah Cris no here; he leave early early motorbike ride away, no tell nobody where.' The fourth and fifth one was actually work related; Norman James had refused to accept the resignation and was demanding that he be back at work A.S.A.P.

"Tough shit," Cris said, smiling. "First time in years my insides ain't all knotted up."

"But I'll bet that has Charlie's all twisted up, little ass-kiss," Cris said as he lay down on the uncomfortable bed.

After a long day on his bike, though, he was asleep in minutes and slept soundly until sunlight streamed into the room.

****

Out of habit, Sandra opened the envelope for Cris Dumas, and then remembered; he wasn't there any more. She put it aside, with the other stack of mail she'd collected for him. 

Curiosity got the better of her and she looked over the numerous photographs of Nicole and some unknown man and the infant. The unknown young man, she assumed, would be Nicole's future husband. In the last photograph, the baby lay on his back, smiling up at the unknown photographer.

"Oh, Cris, he's adorable!" she gushed into her headset, leaving him yet another message.

She hung up quickly when Norman James strode briskly into the lobby, did not acknowledge Sandra, just walked into Charlie's office.

Sandra could not help but smirk as Norman James gave Charlie a piece of his mind over one of Charlie's flippant e-mails.

"This is a professional office; when I send a professional communiqué, I expect a professional response, not some little smart ass answer," Norman bellowed.

"Where the hell is Dumas?" he barked at Sandra.

"Canada, last I heard," Sandra shrugged. "Toronto, I think."

"Get him back here and get him back here now," Norman ordered."

Tried, said 'no,'" Sandra shrugged.

"No?" Norman bellowed. "No?"

"What he said," Sandra said, watching Norman's face get redder and redder.

"I don't care what it takes, you get him back here and I mean NOW!" he screamed at her.

"Tell him, no, better yet, put him on," Cris smiled as Sandra relayed the information.

"Dumas you got twenty four hours to get back here or..." Norman threatened.

"What you going to do, fire me?" Cris laughed. "But I tell you what, I got about seven months vacation time saved up; how about I take a month of that, then come back to a twenty percent raise?"

"Twenty?" Norman asked. "You'll be lucky to get..."

"Twenty five and it goes up every time you argue with me," Cris said.

"Twenty," Norman agreed.

"And Sandra gets a twenty percent raise too, and you get Charlie Wertmuller the fuck out of my hair; I don't care if you take him to Houston with you, send him to Nigeria, Mexico City, wherever, just as long as I don't have to see that pain in the ass and that whining ass wife of his ever again, and William Kennedy gets Charlie's old job; see you in August," Cris said and hung up.

****

Sandra felt a huge stab of resentment as she sat and watched the wedding; they held it out at the gazebo of the condominium complex. Every now and then, Nicole would look around and Sandra watched a few tears slide down the girl's face. When Cris did come back, she planned to give him a piece of her minds; abandoning his daughter like that.

Sweet William sat on the other side of her husband, Jimmy and Sandra almost laughed out loud as the large man dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief. A large man, almost a giant, crying like that as he watched little Nicole exchange her vows.

"I am just furious with your father," Sandra said to Nicole at the small reception held in the condominium club house.

"Don't be," Nicole said. "For years I been letting him know I don't care; guess he's just letting me know he don't care neither."

"That's no excuse," Ann Marie chimed in.

"Mom, we already been through this," Nicole said and then laughed as Sophia's eyes lighted on the wedding cake and the little girl began signing 'Happy Birthday me.'

"No, no, silly goose, it's not a birthday," she laughed and took the little girl over to the cake.

"This Me marry cake," she signed to the girl.

"I guess we better cut the cake before we have a riot on our hands, huh?" Fred asked as he carried Freddy over and watched as Sophia struggled to get her hands on the large wedding cake.

"Everyone, everyone," Nicole called out over the DJ's music. "Small change in plans; my sister wants cake so we're going to cut the cake now, okay?"

"Cris would be real proud of his little girl, huh?" Sweet William asked Sandra. "Look at how she caring for her sister."

****

He'd been at a casino in Toronto that promised to 'bring Las Vegas to Canada' when it hit him; he'd never been to Las Vegas. Ann Marie and her mother had gone several times, making a 'Mother --Daughter' long weekend out of it, and when Nicole got older, the two women promised they'd bring her along, but Cris had never gone.

Caesar's Palace, with the fountains out front appealed to him; he remembered Evel Kneivel attempting to jump those very fountains, then remembered Robbie Kneivel doing it and succeeding where his old man had failed.

The little bar promised 'more girls in one place' so he shrugged and stepped into the cool darkness of the bar.

The girls were young and attractive; he didn't kid himself. They weren't showing this old guy all the attention they were foisting on him because he was the most handsome man they'd ever seen. They were interested in the old guys in his wallet.

"Modified Harley," he said when 'Diamond' noticed the helmet and asked what kind of bike he had.

"Give me a ride?" she begged, pressing her silicone enhanced breasts against him. "I get off in an hour; my roommate's already left."

"Sure," he agreed and immediately switched to drinking coke instead of beer.

Diamond was a leggy brunette, a little on the haggard side, as if she'd been doing this for a while.

She showed up, ready to go, dressed in tight blue jeans and a crop top that emphasized her large breasts and exposed a good deal of her abdomen.

"Hey, what the fuck you doing with my girlfriend, cock sucker?" a stout man yelled, waiting for them by Cris's motorcycle.

Diamond squeaked in fright and crowded against Cris, preventing any movement in Cris's right arm. The stout guy held a length of lead pipe.

"Done this before, huh?" Cris said as Diamond clung to him 'for protection.'

He rammed his right arm back, aiming his elbow for Diamond's solar plexus; she was crowding him, giving him no opportunity to protect himself against the boyfriend. 

He missed Diamond's solar plexus, getting her in the ribs instead. He heard the bone snap and Diamond shrieked in pain and fell to the pavement. He lunged forward, aiming his boot heel at the man's knee. His aim was true on this strike and the man fell to the pavement.

"Las Vegas Police Department," the almost mechanical sounding operator intoned. "What is your emergency?"

He was right; Glenda and David Falconi had done this sort of thing before. Cris had deduced as much, especially since the man was waiting for them, right by Cris's motorcycle, the only modified Harley in the parking lot. 

Usually, Glenda sweet-talked a client into a ride home, then called her brother, told him what kind of car the target drove, then David would play the part of enraged boyfriend, knock the target out, and the two would snag the target's cash.

When he returned a nasty message from Sandra she was still quite upset with him.

"And what was more important than watching your daughter get married?" she hissed into the telephone.

"Fighting crime in Las Vegas, of course," he laughed.

"Well, Mr. Smarty Pants," Sandra spat into the phone. "You gave the bride and groom red kitchen appliances and cookware."

"Mighty generous of me," he said easily.

"Yes, almost as generous as the five thousand dollars you gave them," she said.

"Five thousand!" he shrilled. "Damn it, Sandra!"

"Have been only one if you had been here," she said and hung up on his tirade.

Chapter 11

Another exploration company played the game with the Nigerian government and beat PPEDI out on the contract. Norman James was furious over their losses, until the other company's employees were slaughtered by terrorists, slaughtered for 'consorting with the American Devil.' No Nigerian would work for the American company and the other company lost their multi-million dollar investment.

But he did not admit to Cris that Cris was right to suggest that PPEDI not proceed with the venture.

He would also not admit it, but promoting William Kennedy from rough neck to vice president of the Louisiana Division had been a correct move. His massive size hid the intelligence the man possessed, as well as his business acumen.

"Oh my God," I just don't know how I'm going to be able to work in this office with such hot, well-dressed men," Sandra said and fanned herself as Cris and Sweet William walked in.

It was a competition that neither man said aloud, but they were trying hard to be better dressed than the other. Cris's closet bulged with the tailored suits from Abdul's and Babbage's department stores and his dresser had very few cotton items. Silk was the preferred cloth of his undergarments. The colors of his shirts and his ties were bright, eye-catching.

Sweet William was limited by his size, but made the best of what he could get from the few specialty stores.

"Well, just do the best you can," Cris smiled as he walked into his office.

Sandra had gleefully thrown out anything Charlie left behind in his departure and put Cris's awards and certifications in new frames and hung them behind her boss's desk. The photographs of Freddy and of Nicole's wedding were put into matching frames and were hung on the wall in front of Cris's desk; so that every time he looked up, he would see his daughter, see his grandson.

He laughed out loud the first time he'd tried to take them down; Sandra had super-glued them to the wall.

"Oh here's another one," Sandra said as she bustled into Cris's office, and slapped a new framed picture of Freddy on the wall. "His one year birthday; isn't he adorable?"

Cris looked up from the latest charts projecting the path of a category three hurricane and squinted slightly at the latest addition to the collage on his wall. The kid was a mess; face liberally coated with remnants of chocolate ice cream and birthday cake.

"Wow, any more chocolate ice cream on that kid's face, people would think that's one of Sweet William's kids, huh?" Cris asked and looked back at the forecasts.

"Oh no I know he ain't THAT good looking," William said and walked into Cris's office, dressed in his bright orange sweat suit.

"God damn, Sweet William, why you wear that thing?" Cris said, shielding his eyes.

"So no one hits me," Sweet William said. 

"No more fifty mile runs like last time," Sandra warned.

The day before, both men ran together. Neither one wanted to admit they were tired so they kept running. They'd gone nearly five miles before Cris started laughing as did Sweet William.

"Mother of God, I don't even know where the hell we are!" Cris laughed out loud.

"Aw, shit!" Sweet William laughed as well. "Come on, let's get back; you run behind me."

"What? Why?" Cris asked and started running back to the office, or the general idea of where he thought the office was. "You got gas?"

"'Cause, people out here see a black man running behind a white man, might put cap in my ass," the large black man smiled playfully.

"And if they see me chasing you, might think I'm chasing a mugger," Cris said. "Better run side by side."

"Y'all spent all day yesterday whining about how sore y'all were," Sandra said. "Hey! Here's an idea; why don't y'all use some common sense?"

"And what fun is that?" Cris asked, stepping out of his private bathroom, dressed in gray sweat suit.

"What you know about the Muslims?" Cris asked as they started at a steady jog.

"I know it ain't just a religion; it's a way of life," Sweet William said. "Them Muslims take it one hundred and one percent seriously; ain't no gray area ain't no 'maybe' about nothing, it's all or nothing. Why? You think about becoming Muslim?"

"No, no, my tenant upstairs says he's Muslim, says his girlfriend is too," Cris said.

Amaan Kaberrah, he called himself. "It means 'Scholar of Integrity," he smugly told Cris as he and Alicia Scandurro looked around Apartment 3. "See, I am studying the Koran; you don't just read it, you STUDY it."

"Uh huh," Cris said, not caring what the kid's name meant. 

Both appeared to be in their early to mid twenties but that was the only thing the two had in common. 

Amaan was a stocky African-American youth, loud, flamboyant, and dramatic. 

Alicia was short, pale-skinned, slightly underweight, even as her belly showed her to be around six months pregnant. She was quiet, kept her head down, like a beaten dog.

"You are a queen," Amaan declared. "Is this; is this place suitable for a queen?"

"I guess," she shrugged.

"No, no. No 'I guess,'" he demanded. "My queen deserves the best; would my queen be happy here?"

"Yeah, I mean, out of all the places we been, this is the nicest," Alicia said and looked up for a moment.

Cris looked at her pale face; she was beautiful. Her eyes were a light brown, almost hazel or golden in color. Her nose was small and her mouth had a delightful little pout, even as the corners of her mouth were drawn down. Her long, light brown hair had several blonde highlights streaks through it. She quickly looked back down when she realized that Cris was looking at her.

Amaan filled out the lease application with a flourish; everything he did was a production. Cris handed him one set of keys and turned to hand Alicia the other set of keys. Amaan quickly grabbed the keys out of his hand.




Ice Heart Ch. 03



"Muslim women are not permitted to have any physical contact any man that is not their husband or their father," Amaan said in way of explanation.

"You're Muslim too?" Cris asked Alicia directly.

"I am," Amaan said tersely.

"Muslim or not, fucking kid is loud," Cris said. "Starts his piece of shit car, the ground shakes from that stereo of his."

"That ain't a Muslim thing; that's just an 'I'm a punk ass kid ain't got no respect for no bodything," Sweet William said and slowed to turn around to head back to the office. "I seen some Cat Licks do that shit too."

"Oh screw you, Baptist son of a bitch," Cris laughed.

"Hey, know why you take two Baptists with you when you go fishing?" Sweet William asked.

"Why?" Cris asked, matching Sweet William's pace.

"So they don't drink all your beer," Sweet William said and the two men laughed.

"And I thought Muslims don't drink," Cris continued to muse aloud.

"They don't; least the Muslims I know don't, it's against their religion," Sweet William agreed. "That's why, in Iraq and Kuwait, the liquor stores there are owned by the Christians. Muslims don't have anything to do with alcohol."

"Well, every time he throws anything into the dumpster, it clinks a lot, like beer bottles," Cris said. "Don't think he's drinking that much apple juice."

"And he's living with his girlfriend?" Sweet William asked.

"Yeah, cute little white girl," Cris said. "About six months pregnant too."

"Huh," Sweet William said. "That ain't right neighed; sex outside of marriage is strictly a no-no for Muslims."

"Think I ought to call Bin-laden on his ass?" Cris asked.

"Nah, he's kind of busy, hiding in them caves and shit," he said and put on a burst of speed, just to antagonize Cris.

****

For what Ann Marie had been paying in rent, she could put toward a monthly note and when condominium eleven twelve went on the market, she bought it, putting it in Nicole's name; that lawyer was still sniffing around.

Fred didn't say it, but he was happy to have his living room back. He was also happy that he could walk around in his own home unmindful of whether he was decent or not.

"First thing I'm going to do is do you right here," he whispered into Nicole's ear. "Right here, on this couch."

"Shut up," she giggled and swatted at him.

"Need me to watch Freddy so y'all can have a 'first night alone?'" Ann Marie asked as she lugged a box of Sophia's toys down the stairs.

"You go to leave some of her stuff here, right?" Nicole asked, worriedly.

She did want to have some privacy, some time with her husband, but dreaded the thought of losing Sophia.

"Yes, Honey; kid's got so much crap she doesn't play with half of it," Ann Marie said and looked around carefully to name sure the girl wasn't lurking around the door.

She'd gotten out once, wandered off toward the swimming pool; she loved the swimming pool. But to get to the swimming pool, she normally went out into the parking lot for a short distance. That was no problem if Nicole or Fred or Mommy were with her; they watched for cars. But on her own, unable to hear an approaching automobile, the short distance was dangerous.

Ann Marie screamed when she realized the child had escaped and Fred leapt to his feet and sprinted out of the condo to search for the child. Ann Marie was nearly hysterical when Fred returned, holding a struggling, agitated child.

"So, yes or no, want me to baby-sit Freddy?" Ann Marie asked.

"Yes," Fred said.

"Um," Nicole hesitated, and then acquiesced.

****

Cris gritted his teeth; he could hear the music, or what that punk called music as he killed the engine on his bike. It would seem that Amaan was getting an early start on his weekend; Cris picked up a discarded box and tossed it into the dumpster. 'Coors Light' was emblazoned on the box.

"Muslim, huh?" he sneered.

Two hours later, he had a splitting headache from the non-stop thumping of Amaan's music and stomped upstairs and knocked forcefully on the door of Apartment 3.

An obviously drunken Amaan opened the door and glared spitefully at Cris.

"Yeah?" he demanded.

"Hey, think you could turn that down a bit?" Cris asked in a tone of voice that let Amaan know he wasn't asking.

"Why, mother fucker downstairs bitching?" Amaan demanded to know.

Yes I am," Cris said.

Amaan looked surprised to hear that Cris was his downstairs neighbor, slammed the door in Cris's face, but turned the music down a fraction. Cris knocked on the door again.

"What?" Amaan demanded.

"More than that; I'm tired, been a long day, and I want to sleep," Cris said.

"Man I got a right play my music," Amaan yelled, getting in Cris's face.

"Step back NOW, before I make you regret getting in my face," Cris said, not backing down. "You got a right to play your music, but not when it infringes on my rights to peace and quiet."

"Amaan, please," Alicia quietly begged.

"What?" Amaan screamed at her. "Taking his side?"

"No, but I'm tired; I want some peace and quiet too," she whined.

"All y'all white ass mother fuckers kiss my fucking ass, that's all I got to say," Amaan muttered to himself as he sullenly stomped over to the stereo and turned it off. "Disrespecting me, in my own fucking house and shit."

"Hell of a way to be talking to a queen," Cris commented as he walked away.

****

Ann Marie listened carefully. There was no sound coming from the children's room. A quick peek in confirmed it; they were both sound asleep. She left the door open in case either one woke up then bustled down the hall to her bedroom.

Her own bed. It felt so good to lie down on her own bed and luxuriate in the feeling of the satin sheets against her skin. A moment later, she struggled out of her clothing and lay nude on the satin sheets. 

A look down her body made her realize she was no longer the petite woman she used to be just three years ago. 

"Of course, having a baby will do that to you," she said aloud, justifying the bit of a paunch she now sported. Her breasts were also quite droopy, still a thirty six C, but sagged quite a bit lower than they did only three years ago when Tom Sampo had seduced her. There were also a few bruises here and there mottling her pasty skin.

She reached down and stroked up and down the thick profusion of pubic hair. She felt her slit growing wet and concentrated her fingers on her lips; up the left side, then up the right side. She purposefully kept her fingers slow, purposefully kept her fingers away from her clitoris. When her abdomen was tense, straining for release, she yanked open her nightstand drawer and found 'BOB,' her 'battery operated boyfriend.'

"Shit, shit, shit," she hissed as the orgasm welled up, and then flooded her consciousness.

She masturbated twice more, reveling in the fact that she did not need to keep quiet, did not have to worry about Fred coming downstairs and catching her.

****

"Third of the month," Cris said affably.

"Um, yeah, yeah, um 'bout that," Amaan said, not making eye contact with Cris. "Um, look here, um, it's like this, we um, we had us an unexpected expense just pop up on us, know what I'm saying?"

"Um, rent is an expected expense, know what I'M saying?" Cris said.

"Yeah, yeah, um, so, um, look here, I got this three hundred I can give you right now and when I get paid up on next week, I catch up the rest, right?" Amaan said.

"The rent is four hundred a month; it's right there in the rent agreement," Cris said. "Read it; you signed it. Says its twenty five dollars a day late fees if the rent ain't paid in full."

"Aw man, you going to jack me like that?" Amaan yelled.

"And if it ain't paid in full by the tenth, I change the locks and put your stuff out on the street; just like it says in the lease," Cris went on, over Amaan's outburst.

He turned and went back downstairs, not listening to Amaan's pleas and threats.

He fixed himself a meal using the crawfish that Cam Pao had brought to him, along with her four hundred dollars rent. He was glad he'd taken the Chinese cooking class, although crawfish could also be used in Cajun cooking, or even Mexican cooking, but he was in the mood for Chinese tonight.

He could hear the spirited conversation taking place right above his head; Amaan did not know how to do anything quietly. He could not hear Alicia's replies but that wasn't surprising; he rarely heard her. Amaan, however, was getting louder and louder, although he couldn't make out the words.

He was heating up the peanut oil to fry the rice when he heard a soft knock at his door. He turned off the burner and walked to the door.

"Who is it?" he called out.

He heard a murmured reply, although he didn't hear the words.

"Who?" he demanded, louder.

"Alicia, um, from upstairs, apartment three," he heard the girl speak up a little louder.

Sighing, he opened the door a crack. He kept the security chain on just in case this was a 'Trojan Horse,' some sort of ruse on Amaan's part.

The chain was extra strength stainless steel, as was the catch. Both catch and chain were secured to the reinforced door and doorjamb with extra long screws. Sweet William would have a hard time kicking in Cris's door.

"Um, Mr. Dumas, I um, Amaan sent me um, to ask you if um there's any way we, you and me could work out some kind of you know, some kind of deal?" she timidly asked.

"Yeah," he said, irritated at being interrupted. "Amaan can find that other one hundred dollars and pay me the rent in full; that's the only kind of deal I'm interested in." 

Cris shut the door and twisted the deadbolt shut. He walked back to the stove and prepared to turn it on when another knock interrupted him.

"Yes?" he asked, clenching his jaw tightly.

"Um, Mr. Dumas, it's me, Alicia," she sobbed. "Please, let me; don't make me go upstairs, I need to..."

"Let me see if I got this right," he said through the cracked door. "It's against his religion for me to touch you, have any physical contact with you whatsoever, but it's not against his religion for him to send you down here to prostitute yourself?" 

She just stood in the tiny foyer of the apartment building, sniffing back her tears. Cris felt sorry for the girl. He was also grateful for the door; it hid his erection from her view. 

She wore a small tank top that was obviously not a maternity top; it showed a good expanse of her belly, and her shorts were of a denim material, unbuttoned underneath her belly, showing off her stubby thighs. Her hair was loose and he could imagine combing his fingers through it while he plunged in and out of her young, pregnant pussy.

"Tell you what, Alicia," he finally said. "Go up there and tell Amaan I'm not in the mood to fuck some little white girl, but I am in the mood to fuck some black boy up his ass. See how quick he sends himself down here to make some kind of deal with me. Oh, and remind him it's HIS name on the lease, not yours."

He shut the door, and again twisted the deadbolt in place.

He was finishing the rice when again he heard the soft knock, but it was slightly harder, slightly more rushed this time.

"Please, Mr. Dumas," she begged.

His blood began to boil; he could see that her bottom lip was split.

"Get in here," he commanded and she shrank away at the outburst.

"God damned punk ass spineless bastard," Cris spat as he got an ice cue out and wrapped it in a paper towel.

"Here," he said gently and pressed it to her lip, shutting off her nearly whispered pleas to let her fuck him for the hundred dollars Amaan' owed him for the rent.

He guided her to the leather loveseat, made sure the door was shut and locked, and then rapidly strode back into the kitchen. 

He was preparing to pour the majority of the food into plastic containers (he always made too much) when he looked over at the girl.

"You eat yet?" he asked her.

She looked up at him and shrugged her shoulders.

What's that mean?" he demanded, almost angrily, shrugging his shoulders. "Yes? No? Maybe?"

She thought for a moment, then shook her head no and looked down at the coffee table.

"Come on, you like Chinese?" he sighed and got out another plate.

"Yeah," she agreed softly "Amaan don't like Chinese; says they ain't clean but..."

"I really don't give a shit what Amaan likes or don't like," Cris said, shutting her up.

She sat down at the table and looked at Cris as Cris quickly spooned the food.

"Here," he said and put a full plate in front of her.

She looked at the food then began to eat as if she hadn't seen food in weeks.

"Careful, there's peppers in there, kind of spicy," Cris said and she nodded her head, but didn't stop.

"Can I use your bathroom?" she suddenly asked.

"Sure, you know where it is," Cris said and she bolted for the bathroom.

She did not close the door and he smiled sardonically; Nickie was like that too. Nickie would run into the bathroom --sentence and continue the conversation while peeing.

Oh!" he heard Alicia sigh contentedly, and then heard the toilet flush. 

He smiled; unlike Nickie; Alicia did wash her hands afterward.

"I like that toilet paper Mr. Dumas," she commented and dug into the food again.

"Oh, man, I'm so sorry!" Cris said. "What you want to drink?"

"I don't know, what you got, Mr. Dumas?" Alicia asked.

"Please, Alicia, call me Cris. Not much," Cris agreed. "Tomorrow's grocery day. Let's see, got wine, beer, got, oh, here's some orange juice."

"Can I have the wine?" Alicia asked.

"Um, pregnant?" Cris asked.

"A little wine is actually kind of good for the baby; that's what the clinic said anyway," Alicia said.

She also wanted the alcohol to fortify her; if Mr. Cris didn't let her fuck him for the money Amaan owed him, there was no telling what Amaan would do. He had been slapping her from the moment they began dating, then he'd apologize and promise not to do it again.

This was the first time he'd ever drawn blood and it was the first time he'd not apologized.

She sipped the wine; it was a dry white wine which went well with the crawfish.

"This is good," she said, meaning both the food and the wine.

"Thanks, buddy of mine out in Crowley has his own vineyard. He and his wife, they're from the old country, that's what he calls Italy, and they make their own. He also makes this 'grappa,' it's like this brandy, made from the grape mash" Cris said.

"Oh cool!" Alicia said. "You got any of that?"

Ah, that's right, Muslims don't drink," Cris said sarcastically.

"Shit!" she spat contemptuously. "He's Muslim when he wants to be! He don't even pray at prayer time and eats pork whenever he feels like it."

Cris wasn't surprised at this announcement, but he also wasn't paying much attention to her words. Alicia's large breasts were not encumbered by any brassiere, and he could see her large nipples, darkening with blood and getting puffy, preparing them for delivering milk to the child that grew in her belly. He could also see something dark adorning the tops of Alicia's breasts through the thin white tank top, but couldn't make out what it was.

"Kids these days," he thought. "No one had tattoos when I was a kid, except for sailors and bikers."

She caught his eyes and smirked slightly. Old or young, black or white, they all loved boobs.

"So you got any of that grappa stuff?" she asked and toyed with the hem of her shirt, edging it up.

"Yeah, finish your dinner and I'll pour you a shot," Cris offered.

"Okay," Alicia said and resumed eating until she'd scraped the last bit of rice from her plate.

He set out two small shot glasses, located the bottle and poured them each a shot.

"Want to make a toast?" she asked.

"You're the guest; you make the toast," he smiled.

"To love," she said simply, clinked his class and tossed the liquor back.

"Son of a, whew!" she coughed and laughed. "That's some stuff, huh?"

"Yeah it is," he agreed and slowly enjoyed, savored the flavor of it.

He picked up their plates and stacked both in the small dishwasher.

"Mr. Cris?" Alicia asked quietly.

"Yes?" he asked, dreading the conversation that was to come.

"Please, Amaan will be, I want to, could we um, you know, work SOMETHING out?" she begged.

"Alicia, it's pretty clear to me," Cris sighed and grabbed the sponge to wipe down the counter. "I mean, I stood right there and spelled it all out, and he read the lease before he signed it, right?"

"Yeah, but then we had that little bill come up," Alicia mumbled.

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that," Cris said and turned around to face Alicia.

She wasn't looking at him; was absently playing with the hem of her tank top, mindless of the fact that her nipples kept flashing into view. She slowly looked down at the table top, focusing on the empty shot glass.

"Please stop that," he smiled and put his hand on her hand. "Hard to think when you keep flashing your boobs at me."

"Like that?" she smiled playfully and moved to raise the hem up again.

"Love it," he admitted. "But, about that 'unexpected expense,' what exactly was the unexpected expense?"

"His stupid piece of shit subwoofer wasn't working any more," she spat. "'Aw Baby, got to have my tunes, know what I'm saying? Ain't shit without the boom, know what I'm saying?'"

"I'm supposed to just sit around and wait for my rent because he had to get his subwoofer fixed?" Cris asked angrily.

"Uh huh," Alicia said, realizing she'd said too much; Amaan would not be pleased.

"Come on," Cris sighed and held out a hand to help her to her feet.

"We going to do it?" Alicia asked, almost hopefully.

"What? No, no, you're going to go up there and tell him if he gets me the hundred tomorrow, I won't charge him the twenty five dollar late fee," Cris said.

"He'd rather not have to pay the hundred," Alicia said.

"And I'd rather not have to listen to his God-awful music, know what I'm saying?" Cris said.

"Thank you, Mr. Cris," Alicia murmured and softly pressed her lips to his before leaving his apartment.

He bolted the door behind her and raced for the bathroom. He did not make it before his cock throbbed once then flooded his silk boxers with his discharge.

He wondered what it was that she had tattooed on her back; the large black letters were very nearly visible through the material of the tank top.

****

It wasn't the long hours; she was tired, had no energy on her days off too. And lately, it was getting harder and harder to carry the heavy tray to the tables.

"You looking a bit rode hard and put up wet," Harriet commented to An Marie.

"Yeah, I just don't know what's wrong with me," Ann Marie agreed. "Wake up even tireder than when I lay down. Poor Nicole has to take care of Sophia even when I'm home."

"Aw, poor baby," Harriet mocked. "And we all know how much she hates doing that."

"Shut up," Ann Marie laughed.

"Lucky to have yourself a built-in babysitter right downs the way," Harriet smiled. "My two boys? They'd rather kill each other than have to look out for each other. Thank God for the military; let Uncle Sam look out for them now."

Ann Marie pasted a smile on her face as George came in. He was one of her regulars and kept pestering her for a date. She wasn't opposed to the idea of dating, would have loved a pair of arms around her, lips on hers, a nice cock in her. 

George, however, was at least one hundred pounds overweight, and had questionable bathing habits.

""You know, I done looked all up and down this menu and ain't your phone number nowhere on here," George said when Ann Marie asked what he wanted.

"And it ain't going to be; what you want to eat?" Ann Marie said, suddenly woozy.

"You okay? Need to sit down?" George asked, concerned.

****

"Um, hey, um, look here," Amaan said, agitated, as Cris walked to the mailboxes. "I um, I thought we had this here deal and..."




Ice Heart Ch. 03



"We do. I rent you an apartment, you pay the rent, everybody's happy, it's a great deal, huh?" Cris said and checked through his mail.

"Well yeah, but um, Alicia, I sent her down and she's down at your place all night? All night and all that gets me is I don't got to pay no late fee? That ain't right," Amaan argued.

"Yeah, you right it ain't right," Cris said. "Okay, you owe me the late fee then. Happy now?"

"Aw no, aw come on, man! I let you do my old lady and you STILL going to..." Amaan whined.

"Number one, Home Boy," Cris said through gritted teeth. "I did not do your old lady. Number two, her name ain't nowhere on the lease; yours is. Pay the rent, Amaan."

"All night, that bitch down here all night and you saying ain't shit happened?" Amaan sneered.

"Keep arguing with me, tomorrow goes up even more," Cris said and closed his door in Amaan's face.

He gritted his teeth; he could hear them arguing upstairs. Rather, he could hear Amaan; Alicia's soft voice couldn't be heard over Amaan's loud expletives and stomping back and forth. He heard a door slam, then silence.

He almost smiled when he heard the soft rap at his door. He checked through the peephole but there was no sight of Amaan.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Um, Mr. Cris?" It's Alicia. Um, can I, can we talk?" Alicia mumbled through the closed door.

"You eat yet?' He asked as he opened the door.

"No sir," she admitted and gratefully took a seat at his small built in table.

She wore the same outfit; he realized she probably did not own many clothes and probably had no maternity clothes at all.

"So, what's the tattoos of?" he asked. "Last girl I seen with tattoos had a bunch of dragons and stuff."

"They're um, it's um, it's easier if I just show you," she mumbled, cheeks ablaze with shame.

"That's okay," he said quickly as he set the plate of Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans down in front of her. "Wine?"

"Please," she asked and he smiled.

He poured her a healthy amount of red wine, from his friend's wine cellar and she sipped it appreciatively.

"Amaan don't drink anything but beer," she said. "And he counts them all the time; make sure I don't drink more than he wants me to be drinking."

"I'm not Amaan," he said as he sat down to join her at the table.

"I know," she said and brazenly put her hand on his leg.

He did not move her hand but did not encourage it either.

"This is good," she commented in between bites. "You cook this?"

"See anyone else here?" he asked and she giggled at her own foolishness.

"To love," she said again as he poured them each a shot of the grappa.

"Amen," he smiled and clinked glasses with her.

"You want to, here," she said and pulled her tank top off and bared her large pale breasts to his stunned gaze.

'Dumb Cunt,' was tattooed on the upper side of her right breast. 'Ugly Slut' was tattooed on the top side of her left breast. She turned around and pulled her hair aside and he read 'Skank' in large letters across her back.

"And," she said and slipped her blue jean shorts down, exposing 'Fuck Toy' on her left buttock and 'Fat Slut' on her right one.

'Whore' was tattooed across her hairless pubic mound, stretching from upper thigh to upper thigh. As she turned to show him her pussy, he read 'Piece of Shit' on her hip.

"Who, you WANTED that stuff tattooed on you?" he asked her, incredulous.

"I look like a fucking skank?" she spat, angered that he would even think she wanted to be branded those horrible names.

"Then, who, why?" he asked, uncomprehending.

"I was in love, I was head over heels in love with this guy and I really thought he loved me too," Alicia said and began to pull her shorts up.

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"You want them on or off?" she asked.

"I WANT them off, but I think it'd be better if you put them back on," he admitted.

She smiled widely and that was when he noticed that she was missing a few of her upper teeth.

"When's the last time a girl gave you what you want?" she teased as she dropped her shorts to the floor.

"Been a while," he admitted and she sat back down on the leather loveseat, legs spread slightly.

"Anyway, I was real in love with Uncle Tony; well, he wasn't my REAL uncle, see he was married to my Aunt Anna and they got a divorce and anyway I startd dating him," she went on and absently toyed with a dark nipple. "But he was just using me to hurt my dad; my dad hated Uncle Tony's guts and anyway, Tony dumped me and I never seen him again and then I started going out with Jimbo; he had this beautiful Harley and I was kind of getting over Tony just up and leaving me and me and Jimbo; I thought we was all in love and I thought he wanted to be, you know, just him and me forever and then he brings this total bitch, April home and he says 'Hey we're going to have a three way,' and I'm like 'oh no we ain't! I ain't doing nothing with this skank!' and next thing I know, that bitch's beating the shit out of me and Jimbo ain't even doing nothing but laughing his ass off and I'm getting the shit kicked out of me; that's how I lost my teeth."

She pointed to her gap and waggled the tip of her finger in the space.

"Anyway, she pulls her pants off and rubs herself on my face and Jimbo gets all turned on and starts doing me," Alicia said and April says I ain't eating her good enough and I'm like, 'how in the hell I'm supposed to be eating you? I'm laying here almost unconscious!' and next thing I know she's peeing on me! Peeing right on my face and then she and Jimbo, they just leave me there on the floor and go into the bedroom and I can hear them and they're just going at it."

Cris felt sick; he knew both Jimbo and April and had considered them to be his friends. Then to hear that they could treat another person, a beautiful young woman like that...

"Anyway," Alicia went on.

Cris noticed Alicia said 'anyway' a lot.

"Next thing I know, April's pulling me into the bedroom by my hair and she's telling me how she's this tattoo artist; she did all them dragons on herself and she and Jimbo tie me up and she starts tattooing me and Jimbo's telling her what to put and then he just shoves his dick in my mouth 'cause I'm crying and begging her to stop," Alicia said in a dull monotone. "And then when she finishes doing my front they do it on the bed right nest to me and then April makes me clean her pussy with my mouth and spits in my face 'cause I'm not doing it right and they put me on my stomach and she does my back and then Jimbo shoves his dick up my ass 'cause he knows I hate that, you know, up the ass with nothing to lube it with? I mean, it's all right if you got lube, you know? Anyway, then they're calling all their buddies over and they're all banging heroin and Jimbo tells them they can have me 'cause he's done with me and don't want me no more and I must have passed out or they shot me up or something 'cause I don't remember none of that."

"Sweetheart, put your clothes back on," Cris sighed, any thought of having sex with this beautiful, scarred girl long gone.

"Anyway," Alicia continues after she'd pulled her shorts back on and pulled her tank top over her marked flesh. "Next thing I know, I'm on the side of I Ten and this trucker picks me up and we head out to Washington and when we get there he tells me I got to ride with Tiny Tim and I'm with Tiny Tim for I don't know, I guess about a year or two and then I find out he's married the whole time and I'm crying and screaming and he pushes me out of his rig; we're doing like eighty and he just reaches over and pushes me out and I wake up in the hospital and Amaan's there and he tells me 'Oh you my queen, you my destiny,' and I'm like 'whatever.'"

Cris smirked; he could see Amaan outside, trying to peek into his apartment. It was a good thing he'd made Alicia put her clothes back on.

"Anyway, Amaan making me come down here and fuck you ain't anything," Alicia said, still in her monotone.

"What about your mom and dad?" Cris asked her.

"They, um," Alicia started, and then hung her head. "My dad says I'm going to live like a whore, they don't know me."

"Well, if it's any consolation, Jimbo's in a wheelchair," Cris said.

"No!" Alicia gasped, horrified. "Why would that be a consolation? Oh, the poor man! What about April?"

"Cleaning his diapers, I guess," Cris shrugged.

"Well, thank God he has her there to take care of him," Alicia said sincerely.

****

Nicole pursed her lips; her mother looked terrible. Fred waved aside Ann Marie's apologies and got behind the wheel of the Cadillac and Nicole followed them. Freddy was asleep in his car seat; Sophia was fighting sleep, but was losing the battle.

"You want us to keep Sophia overnight?" Fred asked.

"I'm sorry," Ann Marie said and burst into tears. "I don't know why I'm so worn out!"

"Shh shh, nothing to be sorry about," Fred assured her. "That's what we're here for."

"Harriet said I can have tomorrow off; why don't you and Nicole drop the kids off and go and do something, just the two of you?" Ann Marie asked.

"Got to work, but thanks all the same," Fred smiled.

****

"Man, you rich; why you all up in my face got to get your rent?" Amaan accused as Cris unlocked the door of Apartment 1.

"Look, son, what I make in salary is irrelevant; you signed an agreement, you agreed to pay x amount, you still owe me x amount," Cris said.

"I don't see why you all up in my face; you got plenty of money," Amaan shrilly demanded.

"Again, what I have is irrelevant; it has no bearing on your rent. Pay it, or get out, it's as simple as that," Cris said and shut the door in Amaan's face.

When the soft flutter came at his door, he smiled. He still checked through the peephole for Amaan, just in case he should try to use Alicia as a 'Trojan horse,' but there was no sign of the belligerent youth.

"Hi, Mr. Cris," she said and smiled up at him.

"Hi," he smiled and kissed her softly.

He made sure the door was securely locked and led her to the dining room table.

"Hope you like lasagna," he said.

Scandurro?" she laughed. "Lasagna's in my blood, boy!"

"Boy?" he asked. "Boy? You see a boy around here? Honey, I'm a man, and don't you forget it!"

"Whatever," she sneered playfully.

He saw no reason to deny himself any longer and after the meal and the shots of the grappa, he led her by her hand to his bed. She smiled happily, exposing the gap of her missing teeth and shrugged out of her loose tee shirt and nylon running shorts.

"Oh my God," she sighed as he stripped down in front of her. "Oh, Mr. Cris, you have such a beautiful body!"

"Here," she said as she scurried into the small bathroom. "Lay down on the bed."

"Let me just..." she said and wiped his underarms with a wet face cloth. "I hate the taste of that underarm stuff."

She playfully batted at his hands as he played with her large breasts and pinched her dark nipples. She looked up into his face, and then kissed him softly, passionately. Then she licked his neck, then kissed, then nipped the flesh of his neck. She repeated this on his shoulders; lick, kiss, nip. She licked in broad swipes at his underarms.

"I love the smell of a man's sweat; my grandfather and my dad were in construction," she whispered, kissed his mouth again, then traveled her tongue down to his nipples.

She crawled about on the bed, heavy breasts and fat belly hanging down. By the time she licked, kissed and nipped her way down to his slender hips, his cock was throbbing and begging for relief. He'd not seen so much pre-cum ooze out of it before.

"Mm," she cooed as she licked a little of it from his belly. "You taste good."

He tensed, grunted, then howled as she took his heavy ball sac into her hot mouth and his semen spurted and splattered onto his chest, belly and pubic hair.

"Oh, you made a mess!" she playfully said. "Oh well, momma will just have to clean that up, huh?"

She licked the semen from his skin, slowly, savoring the taste of him. She reached his cock ands smiled up at him; it was still hard. She lifted a slender thigh and straddled his hips.

He watched his cock split her heavy, dark pussy lips, watched the 'O' in 'Whore' split apart and welcome him into her.

"Oh, God!" she cried out in orgasm.

"God!" he agreed as her hot, wet pussy took him in deeper and deeper.

"Oh my God you're good," she panted as she rested her hands on his taut belly. "Oh, Mr. Cris, oh, you're good!"

She rode him to two more orgasms then laughed out loud as he rolled her over and began to pound his cock in and out of her in earnest.

Chapter 12

"Here," Amaan spat as he slapped the well-crumpled one hundred dollar bill into Cris's hand. "Don't want to hear no more shit 'rent's late' out of you."

"Good, see you on the third," Cris smiled as he pocketed the hundred dollar bill.

Amaan muttered and stomped his way up the stairs and slammed into the apartment.

"You ain't going down there no more, hear?" he demanded.

"Whatever," Alicia said and turned off the game show she was watching.

"I mean it; you go down there, your fat ass staying down there," Amaan shrilled.

"What we got to eat?" she suddenly demanded.

Huh?" Amaan asked.

"I said, 'what we got to eat?'" Alicia asked again.

"I don't know, we got..." Amaan said and opened the refrigerator.

"Ain't nothing in there," Alicia said contemptuously. "Wasn't anything in there this morning when you left, the food fairy didn't come by while you was out, what makes you think there's anything in there now?"

"I need this shit?" Amaan screamed at her and slapped her across her smirking face.

Calmly she got out of the tattered chair, still smirking (even as she blinked back the tears) and walked to the door.

"Where the fuck you think you going?" he screamed.

"Downstairs," she smirked. "At least Mr. Cris's got food. And he don't need to slap me around prove he's a real man."

She actually cried as she dug through the bags of maternity clothes he'd bought for her. She slipped the bright red dress on and marveled in the softness and the comfort of it.

"And tomorrow, I'll bring the car; we can go get you some shoes, 'barefoot and pregnant' is just a horrible cliché," Cris said as she waddled to the door, lugging her treasures with her.

"Thank you, Mr. Cris," she said again.

Amaan had drunk several beers in the three hours she'd been downstairs and was sobbing in remorse as she entered the apartment. Numbly, she lies on the bed and let him have her. In the back of her brain, she wondered what Amaan' would say if he knew the only reason her pussy was wet was because Mr. Cris's semen was still oozing from her.

****

"Momma, you need to see a doctor or something," Nicole said worriedly as Ann Marie stumbled into the condo, dragging a very fussy Sophia with her.

"Uh huh," Ann Marie said. "And every extra God damned penny I got going to that God damned lawyer; you got money for a doctor just lying around?"

****

"So, who's the new lady friend?" Sweet William asked.

"Who says I got a new lady friend?" Cris asked as he tied his jogging shoes.

"Man, don't give me that shit, every time you got a new lady friend, you start eating them peppermint lifesavers like they going out of style," Sweet William laughed.

"Trying to push my tongue through the little hole," Cris admitted.

"Shit, be easier for you to stick your little weenie through," Sweet William laughed as they started off at a leisurely jog.

"Uh huh, but sticking my weenie through don't do no good for my pussy eating, now does it?" Cris asked.

"Aw now you just a nasty ass boy, huh?" Sweet William laughed.

****

Sandra looked up as Nicole barged in.

"I need to see my daddy," Nicole said tightly.

"Come on in," Cris said calmly from his doorway.

He sat and listened as Nicole laid all her cards on the table.

"If Alicia came to you and needed anything," he thought as Nicole went on and on, rambling now. "You'd whip out your credit card in a heartbeat. And for once in her life, she's not asking for herself."

"How much you need?" he suddenly asked.

"What?" Nicole asked.

"You've asked me for money three times, but I need a dollar amount," Cris said.

"Well, um, I just want Momma to be able to go to the doctor, find out what's going on," Nicole stammered.

She'd really expected more of a fight from her father.

"Done," he said. 

She sat and watched as he wrote out a check and slid it across the desk.

"That should cover it, right?" he said and clicked on the mouse on his desk. "Have a nice day."

"A thousand?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah," he said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm pretty busy."

Ann Marie was outraged that Nicole had gone to Cris on her behalf.

"Wait, how much?" she asked when Nicole mentioned the dollar amount.

"And he made it out to you so I can't cash it," Nicole laughed. "Now you ain't got no excuse, you got to go see a doctor."

****

Alicia sighed in contentment as the saleswoman took her badly worn sneakers off and slipped the comfortable walking shoes on her feet.

"There, how those feel, Sweetie?" the woman pasted a smile on her face and Alicia stood and took a few steps around.

"What you think, Mr. Cris?" Alicia asked, lifting the hem of her baby blue dress up so Cris could see her feet.

"Not the prettiest shoes in the world, but how they feel?" he asked her."

They feel great," she admitted.

"Then we'll take them," Cris told the saleswoman.

They also bought a pair of slippers for her to wear around the apartment and the saleswoman hid her disapproval as Alicia rested her head on Cris's arm as he paid for the shoes.

"Disgusting," she thought to herself. "He's old enough to be her father!"

She was more upset about the fact that whenever he came in to buy shoes, they enjoyed a little harmless flirtation. Now she was kicking herself for not jumping on the chance when he'd asked her to dinner a couple of months earlier.

"Oh well, you snooze, you lose," she said and watched as Alicia clung onto the man's arm as they left her department.

"But I don't like wearing a bra," Alicia whispered as Cris brought up the fact that she needed a bra.

"Oh, okay then," he said and steered her out of Abdul's Department store.

****

"Well, wasn't that nice of him?" Harriet said and hustled about during the dinner rush.

"Yeah," Ann Marie said and wobbled toward her table. "All right, who gets the meatloaf sandwich?"

****

"How'd you get it so smooth?" Cris asked Alicia as he began his oral assault on her pussy.

"Electrolysis," she grunted as he parted her heavy pussy lips with his thumbs and delved in with his tongue.

He licked and sucked her to two orgasms and she cooed and smiled as he hefted himself onto his knees. She burst into merry peals of laughter as he frantically tried to gain entry to her pussy but spurted heavily onto her swollen belly instead.

"Aw, come on, I got to pee anyway," she laughed and pulled him into the bathroom.

She sat on the commode and began to suck on his limp cock while she emptied her bladder. She fondled and squeezed his heavy testicles as her tongue made love to his cock. Soon he was hard and thrusting in and out of her noisily slurping mouth.

"Come for me," she begged.

He almost sank to his knees as she sucked forcefully on his cock. She smiled up at him, showed him the mouthful of his semen, and then swallowed it.

****

"Appointment tomorrow, Doctor Welman," Nicole said as Ann Marie slid into the passenger seat.

"Fine, fine," Ann Marie gasped and was sound asleep before Nicole even pulled onto the street.

"Help me get her to the couch," Nicole ordered Fred and Fred quickly pulled the bed out of the sofa and assisted his mother to the bed.




Ice Heart Ch. 04



*Disclaimer: Any persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

*

It seemed to be an unspoken agreement; she would continue to live upstairs, right above him, even though she spent nearly every moment he was home in his apartment. She would lug Christopher Michael downstairs in the bassinet he'd bought for the baby the moment she heard the motorcycle roar up and be waiting for him, smiling widely.

Inside his apartment, he'd kiss her and hold her and murmur words of love in her ear. If the baby was awake, he'd play with the baby and fuss over the baby, and then he'd cook their dinner while she told him about her day, or he'd talk about his.

She'd feed Christopher Michael in front of him, making sure he could see her breasts, could see that they were still nice and full.

After dinner, they would sit and watch television; he'd mounted a LCD television on the wall between the kitchen and the bathroom. Then, at around ten or so, he'd 'kick her out' of his apartment so that he could get some sleep.

Then she'd lug Christopher Michael upstairs, lay him down in the crib that Cris had bought for the baby, lie down in her bed, and cry herself to sleep.

She told him she loved him. Said out loud, "Cris, I love you," and he had smiled and hugged her and kissed her and told her 'Thank you.'

Why didn't he love her?

Every time she left his apartment, he wanted to tell her "Don't leave yet," but let her go.

He was twice her age and knew he had nothing to offer the beautiful girl. Why she chose to waste her evenings with him was a complete mystery to him. But he was glad she did.

When she'd told him she loved him, he wanted to tell her he loved her and loved Christopher Michael with all of his heart, but resisted the urge. He would have just been making a fool of himself. 

And after Ann Marie and Nickie, he wasn't in any rush to make a fool of himself again.

"And there's no fool like an old fool," he thought to himself grimly.

The windows of her apartment were frosted over with the cold November air. He looked up at her kitchen window and smiled widely; she'd written 'I Love U' inside a heart in the condensation.

He saw her waving to him and waved back.

****

Danny smiled tightly as Cindy excitedly ran around buying 'Santa Claus' gifts for the baby and for her daughter. They'd not had Alicia at their home for four Christmases and Cindy was not going to have a fifth one slip by without her baby girl there.

Part of him was relieved; for three years, he thought she might be dead. It had been a tearful moment when he'd heard that she was indeed alive and actually living only a few miles away. Then he found out she was living with a black man. Thankfully, the baby wasn't black.

She was a tattooed, toothless freak now, though and she had an illegitimate baby. 

Maybe it would have been better if she had died.

But at least the baby was white.

He looked up and saw Webster 'Buddy' Webb enter the bank. Buddy and Alicia had gone to Cabrini High School together; Buddy had been Alicia's date for the Senior Prom.

"Hi Mr. Scandurro," the boy said politely.

****

"I'm sorry," Ann Marie sobbed as Nicole wiped her mouth.

"About what?" Nicole asked, squeezing her mother's hand.

"I can't even feed myself," Ann Marie sobbed.

"It's all right," Fred said, his eyes watering.

"And I won't get to see my new grandbaby," Ann Marie sobbed."

Bo, but he knows you love him," Fred said.

"Her," Nicole corrected. "It's a 'her.'"

"Nuh uh!" Fred childishly argued.

"Oh shut up," Nicole laughed at her husband's antics.

"Make me," Fred challenged.

"Can't, I already went to the bathroom," Nicole shot back.

Nicole smiled; Ann Marie was smiling at the two of them playfully bickering.

"Okay, where? Bed or..?" Fred asked.

"Bed," Ann Marie said and Fred lifted her and gently lay her down on the hospital bed he'd bought and installed in their living room.

"Okay, got a treat for you," he said and turned on the television for her.

He popped in a disc and Ann Marie watched her daughter, Sophia, sitting in a chair, a book in her lap. She was signing to Freddy, who lay in his crib, watching intently.

'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,' Sophia signed dramatically then looked back at the book for the next line.

"Oh my God," Ann Marie gasped as she watched her three year old daughter reading a book and signing.

Fred had edited in a soft piano concerto to give sound to the otherwise silent tableau.

"She's reading him a story," Fred said proudly. "Can you believe? She's only three, and she's reading a bedtime story to him!"

"And I think we all know who taught her to read," Nicole said proudly ass she held Ann Marie's hand.

"That is so beautiful," Ann Marie whispered as she watched Sophia sign the story to her nephew.

"She read the whole book to him," Fred said as they watched the little blonde sit and read and sign.

****

Alicia wiped the tears away and closed the lid on the last box her mother had brought over. Not having much, it didn't take long to pack.

"Ready?" Cindy smiled happily and Alicia nodded her head yes.

Danny wouldn't be happy, Cindy knew, but Cindy didn't care. Like it or not, Alicia was their daughter and their daughter belonged home with her family. So did their grandson.

Normally, Cindy gave in to his wishes, docilely let him make all the decisions, but not this time. This time she was putting her foot down.

Alicia looked at the door of Apartment 1 and felt a huge lump form in her throat. 

She had thought he loved her, but he never said it.

She had thought Uncle Tony loved her, but he was just using her. When he was through with her, he just dumped her, like a used tissue.

She had thought Jimbo loved her, but he just used her, then let all of his friends use her, then dumped her like a used tissue.

Tiny Tim had actually tried to kill her by shoving her out of a moving truck.

So, maybe it was better that she leave now, before Cris dumped her like a used tissue. She had a baby to think about now.

She pasted a smile on her face and opened the outer door to the apartment building.

****

He waited for her to come down, then finally went upstairs to see what the delay was.

He felt an icy chill descend over him as he looked around the apartment. Then he felt blackness come over him.

It seemed like hours later when he came to and groggily pulled himself off of the floor. He looked around again. The lumpy bed, the flimsy chest of drawers, and the frayed couch were still there, but every thing else was gone. All of Christopher Michael's clothes and toys and his crib and stroller and car seat, all gone.

And she hadn't even told him good bye. She'd told him she loved him, but she didn't bother to tell him good bye.

Dully, he returned downstairs, ate his dinner, then climbed back upstairs and began cleaning the apartment, getting it ready to rent to the next tenant.

****

Danny set his jaw tightly as his daughter, his tattooed, toothless freak, entered the kitchen, lugging the little bastard with her. He bit back his angry retort as his wife cheerfully, loudly greeted Alicia and Christopher Michael.

Abruptly, he got to his feet and stalked out of the room.

Alicia's eyes filled with tears as she heard the front door slam. If Cindy noticed, she did not let on as she kept up the cheerful nonsensical monologue with her grandson.

****

Sandra set the cup of coffee down on the desk; she could hear Cris's private shower running. Both he and Sweet William had run another five mile run, in the frigid December air.

"Don't come crying to me when you both come down with pneumonia," she had said when the two men strode briskly into the lobby, fully drenched in sweat.

She turned to leave his office, and then heard the unmistakable sound of sobbing.

She rushed out of his office, her own eyes filling with tears.

"It's your own damned fault, Michael Christopher Dumas," she muttered. "You let that girl go."

****

Christmas morning came and Ann Marie watched from her bed as Sophia opened her presents and came and showed her everything Santa had brought for her.

Freddy was a typical two years old. He didn't grasp the idea of what was going on, but needed to be in the center of it all. 

"And do you know why we get presents?" Fred signed and asked aloud of the two children.

"Jesus loves me," Sophia signed in response.

"That's right; you're such a smart little girl," Fred praised.

"You feeling all right, Momma?" Nicole asked, looking adorable in her red sleep shirt and red Santa cap.

"Yeah," Ann Marie lied and smiled.

****

Danny seethed as his daughter smiled and fussed over the baby and all of the damned presents Cindy got for the kid. He loved his daughter, loved his grandson and if he had been asked, would not have been able to explain the anger he felt in his heart.

And she wore that locket, the locket that her creepy old boyfriend had given her.

Danny smiled tightly as his daughter thanked him for the new clothes. The old guy hadn't called ever since Cindy had brought their daughter home. 

Bobby whooped and thanked him for the Sony Playstation II; now that had been a real bitch to find. All of the stores in a two hundred mile radius had been sold out; he had to go all the way to New Orleans to grab one.

****

Cris smiled as he looked at the silly Christmas Card Sandra had sent him. It showed Sandra and Jimmy and their children and their two mutts in front of their Christmas tree.

"Perfect," he smiled and put it down again.

Sweet William's card wished him a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and Sweet William had unashamedly signed the card 'Love.'

"Takes a real man do that," Cris smiled.

He locked the apartment and took his suitcase to the waiting cab.

"Where you going?" the cab driver asked as he drove toward Lafayette, toward Lafayette's airport.

"Las Vegas," Cris said.

"Oh? Christmas with the family there?" the cab driver asked, not really interested.

"No, thank God, no family," Cris smiled tightly.

****

She watched the disc again and let the tears fall freely. Sophia sat and read 'Sleeping Beauty' to her nephew. Fred had edited the disc, cutting in soft piano concertos, soothing backdrop to an otherwise silent scene. He had selected a different piece of ,music for each of the discs he'd made.

"And they lived happily ever after," Sophia signed and closed the book with a definitive 'thump.'

"One more," Freddy demanded and signed to his Aunt Sophia.

"Time go sleep," she signed back firmly.

"Yes ma'am, Miss Bossy," Ann Marie smiled as the disc faded to black.

****

"Pilot," Sandra said as she answered the phone.

"Miss Sandra? This is Nicole," Nicole said into the phone, voice cracking.

"Nicole, what's wrong?" Sandra asked, concerned.

"My momma's in the hospital; Dr. Welman doesn't think she'll..." Nicole said then began to sob, loud, wailing sobs.

"Huh," Was Cris's response when Sandra told him of the phone call.

"SO, when you going to visit her?" Sweet William asked as they ran alongside the highway.

"Not," Cris said, continuing the frenzied pace Sweet William had set for them.

"What? Not, What? You kidding, right?" Sweet William stuttered.

"Nope," Cris said. "We ain't married, why should I visit her?"

He slowed as he realized Sweet William wasn't running alongside him, then looked around. Sweet William was standing several yards behind, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned and ran back.

"I just don't, mother fucker, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Sweet William yelled, exasperated. "Yeah, she shit on you, yeah it hurt, but God damn! The woman is dying!"

"And?" Cris said. "Look, I'm not happy about it, but I don't see any reason..."

"Son of a bitch, you better hope and pray me and Sandra outlive you," Sweet William said as he turned and began to walk back to the office. "That's all I got to say, you better hope we outlive you so at least two people show up for your funeral. Fucking shame you going to have to pay four more people carry your coffin."

****

She was in no pain, just felt an unbelievable weariness. Her fingers clutched the rosary; it had been hers when she was a little girl. She couldn't feel the beads, but it gave her a sense of comfort, knowing that it was in her hand.

"Hi," Cris said softly.

"Cris?" she whispered in disbelief.

"I heard, I heard you weren't doing too well," he said as he looked into her brown eyes.

"I'm dying," she said simply.

"That's what I heard," he agreed. "I'm sorry."

"Cris?" she asked.

"Yes Ann Marie?" he asked.

"I know, I know I don't have the right to ask, but..." she said slowly, labored.

"Anything," he promised her.

"Cris, please, please forgive me," she begged.

"I do," he said. "I do forgive you," he promised her and she smiled happily.

She felt his lips touch hers and for a moment felt contented.

"Thank you, Cris," she said.

"I uh, I need you to forgive me too," he mumbled. "I um, I been a real..."

"I'm sorry," Ann Marie whispered. "If you were anything, it's because I made you that way."

"Forgiven?" he asked and she nodded her head yes.

"Nicole," she suddenly said, urgently. "Cris, please, please help our, help your daughter. She's, she's not the same person she was before. Please, promise me, you'll take care of her."

"I will," he promised.

They talked for a few moments longer. She fell asleep; all energy drained from her. He touched her face softly then left her room.

She heard the soft piano concerto playing and in her mind's eye, she could see her daughter, her beautiful, brave daughter signing 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.'

"Thank she can hear that?" Nicole sniffed back the tears as she peered down at her mother.

""I think so," Fred said and gently touched his mother's hand.

****

Buddy hadn't changed a bit since High School graduation. He was still immature, still arrogant, self-centered, and presumptive.

It was all the reasons she had not wanted to go to the Senior Prom with him and all the reasons there never had been a second date. But Daddy liked him and he did seem to like Christopher Michael, although he insisted on calling the boy 'Cris' or 'Crissy.'

"It's Christopher Michael," she muttered again as Buddy showed them around the Baylor Lake cabin he and his family owned.

She smiled as she looked over the lake; the spring was absolutely her favorite time of the year and the lake was beautiful. Her smile showed off the new implants Daddy had gotten for her.

"And we can dive right off the deck," Buddy said and leaned over the railing to show her; it did extend out over the water's edge.

"Oh, I really don't think I want to wear a bathing suit," Alicia said quickly.

"Aw, afraid people will think you're fat?" Buddy laughed.

"No," Alicia said, scowling darkly.

Her body was just fine; she'd managed to lose almost all the pounds carrying Christopher Michael had put on her small frame. It was the myriad of obscene tattoos she still sported that had her balking at wearing a bathing suit.

"Or we could go skinny dipping," Buddy suggested with a smirking leer.

"Uh huh," Alicia said, rolling her eyes. "Whatever."

She fixed a simple lunch, fixed them both a green salad and brought it to the table. Buddy sat and waited, waited for her to fix the meal without offering to help. Then he left the plate on the table, left it there for her to pick up.

"Whew!" he commented as Christopher Michael soiled his diaper.

Alicia waited for a count of five to see if Buddy would offer to help change the boy's diaper.

Cris had made no objections to changing the boy's diaper, even when it was a poop diaper. Cris had made no objections to anything, especially made no objections to serving her.

But Daddy didn't like Cris. Daddy had not liked Tony and Tony had abandoned her. He hadn't liked Jimbo and Jimbo used her and tossed her aside. Maybe Daddy was right; maybe Buddy was what she needed.

They sat on the deck and watched the setting sun paint the water.

"Careful," she whispered as he groped her heavy breasts. "I'm breast feeding."

Her body reacted to the clumsy gropes and she kissed him.

"Aw, what?" he spat when she pushed his hand away from her crotch. "It ain't like you a fucking virgin!"

"Don't mean I'm ready for THAT," she said firmly.

****

He had been shocked when he'd seen Ann Marie, lying in her hospital bed. The last time he had seen her, she was young, vibrant, and almost haughty as she clung onto Tom Sampo's arm.

Cris fixed himself a drink and went out onto his back porch to watch the setting sun. The wicker furniture was much more comfortable than it looked and he sat down and sipped the gin and vermouth.

Her face was gaunt, the skin almost paper-thin on her cheeks.

"Sweet William, you son of a bitch, you were right," he said out loud.

She had begged his forgiveness. He realized he did forgive her. She had asked him to help Nicole, and had asked him to help Fred. She told him that Fred was as fine a man as he'd ever hope to meet and deserved a helping hand; his income was mighty meager to be supporting two children and a third on the way and a stay at home wife and a sick mother. But Fred never complained, never grumbled. If he worried, he did not bother his wife, or his mother in law with those concerns.

"He's a great teacher," Ann Marie had croaked out. "Sophia? She's only three, and she's reading. And she knows what she's reading."

"Sounds like a smart little girl," Cris smiled.

"Oh, God, Cris, you have no idea," Ann Marie smiled.

The nineteen year old girl that lived in the house behind his came out onto her deck, pretending not to see him there. 

Cris watched as the overweight girl made a production out of lathering up her flabby body with sun tan lotion then untied the top of her bikini and flashed her breasts at him. Then she lay down, the wooden fence now obscuring her from view. He smiled and shook his head at her antics. 

He did not kid himself; she was not flashing him in the hopes of enticing him; she was flashing him for her own gratification. Later that evening, she would parade back and forth in her bedroom, curtains wide open, light on.

"Some people are just like that," he said and got to his feet, his gin and vermouth now empty.

****

"So?" Danny asked as Alicia and Christopher Michael came into the house. "How'd it go?"

Cindy elbowed her husband.

"It was fine," Alicia shrugged. "His parents have a nice place out on the lake."

"Stop it," Cindy hissed to her husband.

"What?" Danny asked. "I can't ask how my daughter's date went."

"Uh huh," Cindy said, not fooled by Danny's pretense of being concerned.

****

Father Dave patted the woman's hand in a comforting gesture, then began administering the Last Rites.

"Go in peace, my child," he said to Ann Marie.

He stepped out into the hospital corridor and smiled at Nicole, Freddy and Sophia.

'Hi,' he signed to Sophia.

"Hi, Father Dave," she answered and smiled back.

"Okay, that's all the sign language I know," he laughed as he signed 'I love you' to the girl.

"That's plenty," Nicole said. "More than most people know."

"See y'all this Sunday?" he asked

"Should, unless..." Nicole agreed.

****

Cris walked upstairs to his bedroom and looked out of the window. Sure enough, the girl was parading around in her bedroom, towel carelessly draped around her plump body. Occasionally, she'd 'carelessly' flip the corner up, exposing a good portion of her dark pubic curls to his gaze.

He'd bought the house just after New Year's Eve. When he returned from Las Vegas and let himself into his apartment, the emptiness suddenly overwhelmed him. January second, he called a real estate agency and asked to look at houses in either Bender or DeGarde. They found the house on January fourth and he made an offer on the spot.




Ice Heart Ch. 04



Sandra and Sweet William helped him pick out the furniture and both, he had to admit, had more taste for style than he ever did.

The girl was now applying lotion to her stubby legs as she sat on the edge of her bed. The position offered him several glimpses of her pubic curls and the glistening pink slit as she labored on her legs.

"Uh huh," Cris smiled as the girl looked toward his bedroom. "Like I'm going to return the favor."

It was a four bedroom house and both Sweet William and Sandra had asked him why he wanted such a large house and he had no real answer for them.

The previous owners had obviously had children; there was an almost new swing set in the back yard. The swing set had cemented the deal in Cris's eyes.

"I have a grandson," he finally told Sandra. "Never know, Nicole might want me to baby sit one night. Freddy'll have a swing set out here, and his own bedroom for napping in."

"Uh huh," Sandra said, then picked out a 'racing car' bed and chest of drawers for a child's room.

"That is cute," Cris smiled.

****

She could hear the strains of the piano and saw her beautiful little girl sign 'and they lived happily ever after.' Then all the weariness left her and she felt a wonderful calm overcome her. The brightest light she'd ever seen enveloped her, but it did not hurt her eyes to look at it.

"God?" she asked in wonder.

Nicole wailed in anguish as the monitor showed the flat line.

"Hello?" Cris mumbled groggily as he answered his cell phone.

"Daddy?" Nicole's voice asked.

Chapter 14

Cindy was polite as she and Danny and Alicia, Bobby, and Christopher Michael sat out on the deck of the lake cabin with Buddy and his parents. She did not like the arrogant, presumptive Webbs and wondered for the umpteenth time why Danny did like these people.

Yeah, Jack and I fight about religion," Susan cackled, well into her fourth drink. "He things he's God and I don't."

Jack made Alicia uncomfortable; his eyes were glued to her breasts the entire time. When Christopher Michael fussed for feeding, Alicia politely, but firmly closed the bedroom door to breast feed her baby boy.

If Buddy noticed his father's eyes, he said nothing. A few times, he even attempted to grope her breasts, with her parents and her cousin right there.

****

Cris nodded in appreciated as Sweet William sat down next to him.

"Man, I didn't realize how bad she'd gotten," Sweet William whispered.

Cris had to agree. In the two months since he'd visited her in the hospital, and she had not looked good then, she had dropped a significant amount of weight and had lost all color. He realized that her face wore a good deal of cosmetics, but there was only so much the mortician could do.

He looked over at his daughter and felt a surge of pride. She was orchestrating the service with a quiet efficiency and dignity; very much unlike the selfish, self-centered girl she'd been just four years earlier.

"Dad?" she asked as she waddled down the aisle to his side. "Would you be one of the pall bearers, please?"

"Be honored," Cris admitted and she smiled sadly.

"Hi, Mr. William," She said, looking past her father to the large man. "Would you, I need one more pall bearer."

"Be my honor; I always loved your momma," Sweet William agreed.

"Good, then y'all need to come sit up here," Nicole said and indicated the pew near the casket where Fred and three other men were already seated.

"I need to talk with you," Cris quietly said to Fred as they stood around in the condominium where Ann Marie had lived the last year of her life.

They walked outside in the Lafayette heat and humidity, talking quietly. 

Nicole looked up when Fred entered the living room, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Did you know that your mother left behind a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar life insurance policy?" he whispered to his wife.

"She what?" Nicole asked, not believing she'd heard right.

"Yeah, and she told your dad she wanted the money to go to my college!" Fred said. "Said it had to go to my college or we couldn't get it."

Nicole didn't know whether to laugh at her husband's gullibility or laugh for joy. She merely smiled and squeezed his hand tightly.

"That mean I'm going to be married to a teacher?" she asked.

"I guess so," he said, still in awe of their good fortune.

"Good, I'm tired of smelling Taco Bell all over you," Nicole said and smiled as yet another well-wisher offered condolences.

"Hello?" Cris answered his cell phone.

"Thank you, Daddy," Nicole said.

"For what?" Cris feigned ignorance.

"You know for what," Nicole accused.

"Your mother asked me to help him but she knew he'd never just accept my help," Cris said sincerely.

"You know he wants to go to Notre Dame, don't you?" Nicole said.

Cris felt the familiar iciness begin to descend again. Just when it looked like he might be able to reestablish a relationship with his daughter, circumstances were snatching that away again.

"God damn, Cris, grow up," he admonished himself.

"Well, at least he's Catholic," Cris said aloud.

****

Buddy was a little slow, but he was beginning to come around to Alicia's way of thinking. He finally understood that when he grabbed her breasts or her buttocks, what he was announcing to everyone that witnessed those actions was that he thought Alicia was a stupid whore.

"Would you like it if I kept calling you 'stupid,' or 'piece of shit'"? Alicia asked.

"No, not really," he admitted.

"Well, that's kind of what you're doing when you do those things out in public like that," Alicia explained.

Privately, however, he was just as boorish and aggressive as ever. She wondered what it was that her daddy liked so much about Buddy, why he kept encouraging her to date the brash, presumptive youth.

****

Danny scowled; someone had been puttering around with the things on his desk again. The picture of Alicia and Christopher Michael sat facing him again. He kept turning it away, but someone kept turning it back.

He pulled the frame off his desk and dropped it into a desk drawer. He thought about it for a moment, then opened the drawer again.

He pulled the back off the frame, pulled the photograph out and fished around until he found an envelope. He wrote out an address and smiled maliciously as he used the postage meter to stamp the envelope.

****

Welcome to Notre Dame," the dean said as he greeted Fred Dumas. "Lafayette, huh? I was down there just three weeks ago. Man, I tell you what! We don't have any food like that here, that's for sure!"

"Should have told me you were in town," Fred said. "I'd have taken you out to Miss Helen's for some boiled crawfish."

"Oh, by the way, you're to call Mrs. Bonham," the dean said and handed Fred a business card.

Fred looked at the realtor's card, then back at the dean.

"Um, why?" Fred finally said.

"I believe she has the keys for your house," the dean smiled.

"Your dad bought us a house?" Fred asked as the realtor pointed out the fenced in back yard.

"I guess so," Nicole agreed.

She pursed her lips as the realtor stared at Sophia as the little girl signed that she needed to go potty.

"Get used to it, kid," she said to herself. "Some people are just plain ignorant."

"Your mother and I had a nice little talk before her, before she passed," Cris said when Nicole called him. "She asked me to look out for you and for Sophia. Actually, what she said was 'Take care of my babies, please,' and I ain't about to tell a woman 'no' when she's on her deathbed, you know?"

"Well, it's beautiful," Nicole said sincerely.

"And I made sure to ask for a fenced in back yard; someplace you know, somewhere Sophia and Freddy can play and be safe."

"It's got that," Nicole said. "And it's got a school right down the street; that woman said it was a real nice one."

"Good," Cris said then waited. 

There was a long moment of silence.

"Well, I um, I love you," Cris said. "Give me a call from time to time, okay?"

He flipped his cell phone shut and picked up the photograph again. Alicia looked absolutely beautiful; he loved the way the red blouse brought out the natural glow of her skin. And Christopher Michael was a real heart breaker with that flaming red hair and that wide open smile. The photographer had posed them, Alicia seated on the floor, resting on her right hand, left hand draped over Christopher Michael, holding him up in his seated position.

"Such a beautiful..." he murmured.

The envelope had been addressed to the apartment he had lived in; the mail carrier had bypassed that and brought it directly to his office. He was grateful the man had taken the time to do that for him and ignored the man's protests as he slipped him a twenty dollar bill.

Rachael, or Rochelle, or whatever the little tease's name was walked by an upstairs window, nude. Cris shook his head as he watched the brazen display. He wondered if her mother knew what was going on right above her head.

He'd actually talked briefly with the girl's mother as he was pruning the climbing rose he'd planted along the back fence. The obscenely obese woman had waddled over to the fence to talk to him and was out of breath by the time she reached the fence. 

Cris peered down at her from the ladder he straddled. He also noticed Rachael, or Rochelle's younger sister, Tonisha, trying to stay out of sight.

He was polite; they were, after all, neighbors. He fought down the urge to shudder at the sight of her gelatinous bulk.

Rachael, or Rochelle or whatever the girl's name was, he learned, was a student at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, majoring in not having to grow up and go get a job. Tonisha, however, was working as a stock clerk at Early's Grocery store.

"Yeah, well, my son is a student at Notre Dame," he said with pride. "Majoring in Education. Daughter's majoring in making me a grandfather. Have one grandson, got another one on the way. Fred says it's a boy, Nicole says it's a girl."

"Married?" Claire asked, pointedly.

"Hmm?" Cris asked. "Yes, yes they're married."

"No, no, I meant, are YOU married?" Claire corrected his assumption.

"Me?" Cris asked, surprised. "No, no, I'm um..."

He searched his mind frantically.

"Engaged," he finally said.

"Oh," Claire said, then decided to waddle back to her house, Tonisha quietly waddling behind.

"Mother of God!" Cris thought, watching the immense bulks waddle away.

He went into the living room and found the box of frames that Sandra had left for him and put the photograph into the frame. 

Tomorrow, he would bring it to the office for Sandra to add to the one photograph he had of Christopher Michael. And she'd go on and on about how beautiful the boy was. And he was inclined to agree.

****

Alicia blushed hotly as she told Buddy the story behind her tattoos. She turned to look at him and noticed how flushed he looked. His jeans were tented slightly as well. Revulsion welled up in her.

Instead of being disgusted or sympathetic, or perhaps even angered by her story, he was turned on, excited.

"So, um, that the only time you um, you ever did it with a girl?" he asked, almost breathless.

"Yes," she spat, angered. "It's not like I was with her; she forced herself on me."

She wanted to punch him; there was a sudden dark stain on the front of his jeans.

****

"You know the drill, Daddy," Nicole sobbed and laughed as the contractions started.

"And here's Johnny!" Fred said as he struggled into his blue jeans.

"It's Ann Marie and you know it," Nicole yelled, laughing.

"Jonathon Michael Dumas," Fred said as he pulled on his sweat shirt.

"Shut up and go get the kids up; Miss Evelyn's waiting for them," Nicole said and groaned as another contraction hit.

****

She didn't even have a key. Daddy said this was her house, was Christopher Michael's house, but she didn't even have a key, couldn't come and go as she wanted.

They were prisoners here. She took the baby, now walking on unsteady legs, out into the back yard, making sure the door was unlocked before she let it close. 

In the early autumn, some leaves lay on the ground, crackling under her feet. Christopher Michael laughed and gurgled as he wobbled and toppled in the thick leaves.

He was such a happy baby; he was the absolute light of her life.

The eleven month old found the large ball and kicked it and fell over with the effort. Shrieks of laughter followed.

Her cell phone rang and she dug it out and looked at the number. Buddy. Again. Ever since last night, when she demanded that he take her home, he'd been calling, leaving messages. She'd listened to the apologies but it was clear he had no real idea what he was apologizing for, what had angered her so much.

****

"Here's Johnny!" Fred said again.

"Shut up, butt hole," Nicole groused and kissed him as she held the baby boy.

"You call your daddy yet?" he asked.

"Uh huh," Nicole said, smiling. "He actually, I think he was actually crying when he hung up.

****

"That's right," Cris said as he walked into the lobby and tossed a bubble gum cigar at Sandra. "That's right, I'm a grandfather; Jonathon Michael Dumas, born at three o'clock this morning."

Sandra put her finger to her lips to shush him and pointed to the couch that sat in the lobby.

He looked over and saw Alicia, sound asleep, head lolling back. At her feet was a stroller, Christopher Michael strapped in. The boy was slowly waking up and he looked up at Cris and smiled his seven toothed smile at the man.

"Hey Christopher Michael," he said quietly and wrinkled his nose slightly.

The boy was soiled. He unhooked the diaper bag from the rear of the stroller and took it and the boy into his bathroom.

"Whew, you ate that?" he smiled as he cleaned the boy up. "Pee U!"

Christopher Michael laughed as Cris laughed and smiled happily as a clean diaper was put on him.

"Come on, son, let's go see if Mommy's awake yet," Cris said and left the bathroom.

She was now waiting for him in his office and hugged him tightly when he entered, still holding Christopher Michael.

"Hey," he said quietly, holding her tightly, rocking slightly."

Hey," she agreed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"I went down to the apartment and that midget in number two said you'd moved but he didn't know where and I thought, 'Oh my God, suppose he's gone forever?' and so I walked back over here and Miss Sandra was just getting here and I told her who I was and she said she knew it was me 'cause I had Christopher Michael with me and she let me in and said you'd be here real soon and I fell sleep and when I woke up Miss Sandra said you'd taken Christopher Michael into the bathroom to change his diaper and...." Alicia rambled.

"You walked all the way from the apartment?" Cris asked, kissing the top of her head.

"Well first I walked from my Mom and Dad's to the apartment; I just couldn't take any more of it," Alicia admitted.

She pulled back and looked dup into his eyes.

"Cris, I know you don't really love me," she said with resignation. "But I don't care; I'm willing to live with that if you'll have us."

"Don't really...?: Cris asked, surprised. "Baby, are you kidding? I love you more than I could ever tell you, more than I could ever put into words but..."

"You do?" Alicia asked, scarcely able to believe it.

"Baby, when I lost you, my happiness went away," Cris said. "You can ask Sandra; I've just been clomping around, not smiling or anything.

"Sandra, I need to borrow your car," Cris said, coming out of his office at a brisk pace.

"Well, I would hope so," she said, holding out the keys to the Mercedes Benz he'd given her as a Christmas bonus.

"And I'm taking the rest of the day off," he went on.

"Not expecting to see you until Monday," she said.

"It is...oh!" Cris said, comprehending.

"And see, there's a swing set; I got that just in case you'd ever bring Christopher Michael over," Cris said excitedly as he showed her the back yard. "Oh! And you got to see his room! It's got this..."

"I'd rather see your room," Alicia laughed, overjoyed.

"By the way, that is one beautiful smile," he said and kissed her again.

"Yeah, like my new teefeth?" she asked, laughing.

"Dem some Veaudiful teefeth," He said and kissed her again. "Come on, stairs are right over here.

Rochelle masturbated almost frantically as she watched the old guy and some hot looking bitch fucking. This bitch had it all; slender body and nice sized tits and a tight little ass and long brown hair and beautiful round face. And best of all, she had cool tattoos. She couldn't really tell what they were tattoos of, except for the one on the girl's back. She liked Ska music as well, but didn't think she liked it enough to have 'Ska' tattooed on her back like that.

And the old guy had a fantastic body too, for an old guy.

"God!" Alicia screamed aloud. "Oh God, Baby!"

Cris laughed out loud. He'd just changed these sheets yesterday; it looked like he'd have to change them again. Unless they wanted to sleep on the wet spots. The bed was liberally covered in several of them; it seemed as if he and Alicia were both trying to make up for lost time.

****

Sophia asked if this was her brother and Nicole explained that it was her nephew.

"Want brother," Sophia said.

"Okay, brother," Nicole said.

"Good," Sophia smiled happily. "Here Johnny!"

"Fred!" Nicole yelled. "God damn it! Teaching her stuff like that!"

"Next one will be Ann Marie," Fred promised and kissed his wife.

"Uh huh, think I'm ever letting you touch me again?" Nicole pouted. "Teaching her 'Here's Johnny?'"

****

He dug around in the dresser and found it. Alicia smiled up at him as he approached her, then frowned slightly when he knelt down on the floor next to her side of the bed.

"I know you deserve, I kind of wanted to do this in a real romantic way, you know, kind of like fly you out to Paris and do this on the Eiffel Tower or something, but I'm so afraid if I wait I'll never get another chance to do this but Alicia, will you marry me?"

His mothers, his grandmother's ring fit her finger perfectly and she kept looking at it. For the first time, he noticed how small the diamond was.

"I'll get you a better ring tomorrow," he promised.

"Oh no you won't," she said firmly. "Anything else wouldn't be half as perfect as this one. This is MY ring."

Cindy was thrilled (and quite relieved) to hear of Alicia's engagement to Cris. Danny was less than enthusiastic until Cris very dryly asked him "So, do I call you 'Dad' or what?"

"Danny will be fine," Danny smiled sardonically.

"Behind my back you can call me 'that son of a bitch,' but to my face, I prefer Cris," Cris said and the two men shook hands.

"Oh hey!" Danny exclaimed when he realized Alicia and Cindy were carrying boxes out to the Mercedes-Benz.

"I'm not spending another night without her," Cris said firmly.

"Oh Okay, whatever, she's an adult now," Danny grumbled.

Chapter 15

They stood out in the garage to mix up the orange sherbet; Alicia said the machine was too noisy for use in the house. Christopher Michael was so excited about having ice cream for dessert; he actually made up a song and danced while his dad stirred the ingredients together."

Boy, you are a mess, you hear?" Cris laughed as the kid wiggled and gyrated.

He looked up as a car pulled up in their driveway and smiled widely as he saw the 'Fighting Irish' license plate on the front of the car's

Christopher Michael continued to dance, unconcerned if anyone should see him performing.

"I gave you that!" Nicole cried out. "For Father's Day! I gave you that ice cream maker! I was twelve, wow, I can't believe you still have that thing."

"Hi, how are you?" Cris smiled happily as he hugged his daughter and kissed her on her forehead. "When did y'all get into town? How long y'all staying? Where are my grandsons?"




Ice Heart Ch. 04



"Whoa, who's THAT?" Christopher Michael gasped as Sophia got out of the passenger side of the car.

"That's Sophia, I think, that's right, right?" Cris said. "Boy, come here and meet your sister Nicole."

"Hi, Sophia," Christopher Michael said, sticking out his hand. "I'm Christopher Michael Dumas."

The girl stared at him, then looked over at Nicole.

"Name Christopher Michael," Nicole signed. Shake hand."

Sophia looked back and shook Christopher Michael's hand then tried to release his hand. Christopher Michael refused to let it go, though.

"Come on inside, come see my room, I got all kinds of great stuff, you need to see my room," he said enthusiastically and tried to pull her toward the door of the garage that led into the house.

"Na'ole!" Sophia cried out in alarm, crying out for Nicole.

"Son," Cris said gently to his son. "She can't hear you; she's deaf. You're running your mouth a mile a minute and she doesn't understand any of that."

"She's what?" Christopher Michael asked, confused.

"She's deaf," Nicole said. "She can't hear."

"What?" Christopher Michael asked. "Why not?"

"Her ears don't work," Cris offered.

"Then fix them, Daddy," Christopher Michael ordered.

He turned and faced Sophia, who had calmed down slightly. "My daddy can fix anything; you should see his motorcycles. He built them himself; he even lets me ride them, come on, I'll show you."

"I don't think he gets it," Nicole smiled reassuringly to Sophia.

"But where's Freddy and Johnny?" Cris asked.

"Fred's got them out on the basin, fishing," Nicole laughed as he herded them toward the door of the house. "Which means I'll have three sunburned men waiting for me when I get home?"

Alicia smiled as the four of them trooped into the house. Cynthia hid shyly behind her mother.

"Hi, Cris hope you don't mind, but I invited your daughter over for lunch," Alicia smiled. "I'm Alicia; we talked on the phone yesterday."

"Na'ole!" Sophia cried out as Christopher Michael tried to pull her toward the stairs.

"Son, no," Cris said firmly. "You want to play with your toys, you're going to have to bring them down here."

By the time Alicia was bringing the lasagna out of the oven, Christopher Michael was beginning to understand that Sophia did not hear him. Sophia was also beginning to understand that the enthusiastic, energetic kid was not a threat to her. They were playing checkers when Alicia announced it was time for lunch.

"And for dessert, we're having Orange sherbet; my dad makes the best orange sherbet in the world," Christopher Michael crowed as they took their seats in the dining room.

"Orange ice cream," Nicole signed and Sophia's eyes lit up.

"We're going to need more high chairs," Alicia laughed as she put three year old Cynthia in her high chair.

"What?" Nicole asked, puzzled. "Christopher Michael's fine right there, right?"

"I'm trying to give your father a subtle hint," Alicia smiled.

"Like leaving the box on the bathroom counter didn't do it?" Cris asked as he playfully swatted her backside.

They said 'Grace' then dug in with gusto.

Sophia looked up and noticed that Christopher Michael was staring at her. She made a goggle eyed face at him and he smiled and blew her a kiss across the table. She gasped and turned and looked at Nicole in exasperation.

"He bad," she signed to her sister.

"No, he like you," Nicole answered.

****

True to her prediction, Fred, Freddy, and Johnny were all sunburned and suffering from multiple insect bites when she and Sophia returned to the apartment they were renting.

"Sophia's got a boy friend," Nicole smiled as Fred finally finished telling her about their exciting, happy misadventure out in the Basin.

"Oh no she doesn't!" he said, extremely over-protective of his little girl.

"Simmer down, Daddy," Nicole said. "She's almost eight, bound to happen sooner or later."

"One more," Freddy begged as Sophia finished reading 'The Princess and the Frog' to him and Johnny.

Sophia didn't respond; she was busy studying the drawing of the handsome prince. He did not look anything like Christopher Michael. 

"One more," Johnny signed, pounding on the slat of his bed to get her attention.

"Cinderella," Freddy demanded.

Sophia smiled. Cinderella had long blonde hair, just like herds.

****

"Mom," Christopher Michael said gravely. "I just want you to know, even though I love you, I'm in love with someone else."

"You mean Sophia?" she asked as she tucked him into his bed.

"Yes," he said seriously.

"But what about Patty?" Alicia asked him. "I thought you were in love with her?"

"Um, no, no, I mean, she's pretty and all, but Mom, you just don't understand. When Sophia got out of the car, all I could see was all these hearts floating all around her," Christopher Michael said dramatically.

She giggled about it when she recounted the conversation. Cris smiled and hugged her tightly.

"You're laughing, but I was there when she got out of the car; that boy was smitten and I do mean immediately," Cris said.

He looked up when he heard the knock at the door.

"What you want, boy?" he growled at Christopher Michael.

"We have to invite Sophia to my birthday; remember? It's in fifteen days," Christopher Michael said.

"I thought you were in bed," Alicia said sternly.

"I was, but then I thought, 'Oh my God, she thinks I'm a kid; she doesn't know I'm almost five,'" Christopher Michael said. 

"Okay, I already told Nicole about it but I'll send an invitation out tomorrow," Alicia promised.

"That long?" Christopher Michael said, dismayed.

"Mail doesn't run at night, Christopher Michael," Cris said. "Now, come on, time for you to get to sleep.

"When you saw Mommy, did you see them too?" Christopher Michael asked his father.

"Them hearts? Yeah, and you know what?" Cris asked the boy as he pulled the blanket up to cover the small child.

"What?" Christopher Michael asked.

"I still do. All I see is all these hearts, just floating all around her," Cris admitted.

****

"Oh my God!" Nicole laughed. "I just realized; his birthday is next Saturday!"

"Whose is?" Fred asked, looking up from the computer screen.

And you know whose birthday is next Sunday, don't you?" Nicole went on as she looked at the invitation.

****

Christopher Michael was polite to the other guests that crowded into the pizza parlor on Johnson Street, most of them from his pre-kindergarten class at St. Richard's, but kept his eye on the front door.

"Woo hoo, there she is!" he crowed as Sophia, Nicole, Freddy, and Johnny came in; Fred bringing up the rear.

"She's learning how to read lips; it's kind of difficult for her, she's never heard words before," Nicole confided to Alicia as the two mothers stood and watched over their brood. "Fred's teaching her; he's the best teacher in the world, but he's finding it hard to find work."

"I was real glad to graduate in just three years," Fred told Cris and the one other dad that had been dragged to the party. "I mean, I figured I'd get a head-start on looking for a job and Nicole wanted to come home, you know, where people didn't butcher our last name."

"And?" Cris asked and smiled as Christopher Michael stood aside to let Sophia play the video game first.

"Not as easy as I thought it would be," Fred admitted.

"In Lafayette, maybe," Cris agreed. "Need to try St. Thomas Aquinas; its right down the street from us."

"Okay, I sure will," Fred promised.

"Happy Birthday to you!" they sang and Christopher Michael smiled as Sophia, seated to his right, signed the words to the song.

""Hey, um, Christopher Michael, think you could like take your eyes off of her for a minute and make a wish?" Alicia smiled and nudged the boy.

"Uh huh," he said and quickly blew out the candles.

"Did you even make a wish?" she asked, teasingly.

"Uh huh," he said. "Give her the big piece, the one with that rose on it."

"Wow, it must be love if he's giving her the piece with the rose on it," Alicia giggled to Nicole.

"This is Brother Dominick," the gruff voice answered.

"Hey Dominick," Cris said. "I'll get right to the point; my son needs a job."

"That's what I love about you," Brother Dominick said. "No 'how are you?' or 'how are things going?' or anything. Just 'my son needs a job.'"

"Fine, fine, you miserable pain in the ass; I notice you're never too damned chatty with me when you're bleeding me for a donation, but I'll play your game," Cris smiled. "Hi Dominick, how are you? How are things going? My son needs a job."

"Well now, that's more like it, cousin," Brother Dominick laughed. "Send him in."

"Thanks, cousin," Cris said sincerely.

****

"Oh, great, bring them to me when they're all wired on cake and ice cream," Cindy teased as Cris and Alicia dropped off Christopher Michael and Cynthia.

"Uh huh," Cris smiled "And just to make extra sure, we stopped off at Starbucks for a few espressos; they should be bouncing all over the place, 'Grandma.'"

"Shut up," Cindy smiled. "Y'all be careful tonight. You know I hate when y'all ride them motorcycles."

"Thanks, Mom," Alicia said as she put the diaper bag on the couch. "Cynthia's still not real sure about this potty training. I let her sleep in diapers, just in case there are any accidents."

"Um, I think I know how to take care of a little girl," Cindy smiled.

"And she's got long blonde hair and real pretty smile," Christopher Michael was telling his grandfather as he led the man down the hall.

"Hey," Cris smiled as his father entered the room, being tugged by Christopher Michael.

"Hey, you hear this boy's got a girlfriend?" Danny asked in all seriousness.

"And she's quite the hottie," Alicia agreed.

"Totally," Christopher Michael gravely.

****

He shook his head as Alicia used the electric starter on her Harley, instead of kick starting it. She smirked at him when it took him three kicks to kick the Indian into life and blew him a kiss before pulling her helmet's visor down on.

When April had called him at the office to let him know that Jimbo had died, he wasn't sure how to tell Alicia.

"Well, we need to go to the funeral," Alicia finally said.

"You're going to be okay with that?" he asked.

"Cris, that was a lifetime ago," she said quietly. "I don't even have the tattoos anymore."

"Except..." he said and she smiled.

"Uh Huh, except for THAT," she said. "And that's just for you."

The word 'Whore' was still emblazoned across her pubic mound and upper thighs.

"Mr. Dumas, I am YOUR whore," she told Cris. "And don't you forget it."

They roared off toward the funeral home in Breaux Bridge, soon joining about forty more motorcycles that rumbled and roared to the funeral home.

April looked a lot older now, haggard. She smiled when she saw Cris, then went white as a sheet when she saw Alicia. She pulled Jamie, her six year old daughter to her side, protecting her.

"Hi April," Alicia said softly. "I am so sorry for your loss."

"Th th thank you," April stuttered.

"He looks good," Cris commented.

"Yeah, lying on his ass about the only thing he did good," April agreed and the three of them laughed softly.

"Oh, hey, this is Jamie, Jimbo's daughter," April finally said. "Jamie, this is Cris, and Alicia; they were friends of Daddy's."

"Hello," Cris smiled and shook the girl's hand.

"I have a son; I bet you and he are the same age," Alicia smiled. "He's five; how old are you?"

"I'm six and a half," Jamie smugly told the pretty woman.

How dare this woman think she was the same age as a five year old? And boys were stupid anyway.

Cris looked into April's eyes and saw the flicker there. This brown haired, brown eyed girl wasn't Jimbo's daughter. He shrugged his shoulders and the flicker disappeared. April nodded her head in appreciation.

The funeral service was short and the bikers followed the hearse to the grave site where the minister said a few last words and Cris and Alicia left the cemetery.

"So, you never told me you and April were lovers," Alicia said after they'd returned home.

"We um," Cris stammered.

"Don't you lie to me, Michael Christopher Dumas," Alicia said, a rare spurt of anger flaring up. "I have never ever lied to you; don't you dare lie to me!"

"God damn, Alicia that was seven years ago; long before I even knew you!" Cris said, exasperated. "How'd you even know?"

"Jamie!" Alicia screamed angrily. "The girl is the spitting image of Nicole!"

She forcefully shoved him, eyes blazing with resentment.

"So what happened?" she said through gritted teeth. "Y'all have a three way? Huh? You and Jimbo take turns doing her? That what you like, huh?"

"No!" Cris yelled. "It wasn't anything like that!"

"So tell me, what was it like?" she spat, shoving him again.

"I Bought the Indian from Jimbo, April and I put it together, then the night we finished, we went back to my apartment and fucked," Cris said.

"Fucked," Alicia said the word in a hateful tone. "Y'all 'fucked.' Y'all didn't make love, y'all fucked."

"Well, it's the truth," Cris said. "It wasn't love, it was just a fuck."

"Show me," Alicia said.

"What?" Cris asked.

"Show me!" Alicia screamed. "I want to see, what the difference is! What's the difference between fucking and making love."

She shoved him again.

Okay, you asked for it," he said and forcefully picked her up, tossed her onto the bed and roughly began to undress her.

"Suck it," he ordered and shoved his flaccid cock into her mouth.

He was having a great deal of difficulty getting aroused; treating his wife so roughly, callously did not excite him in the least; it hurt him.

She had always been an enthusiastic one for oral sex but Cris sensed something more frenzied about her cock sucking.

"Swallow it," he growled, holding her head tightly as he had done to April.

She squealed slightly when he roughly pushed her onto her back and began tonguing her hairless slit.

"And did you, oh!" she growled as he jammed his cock into her in once push.

Her belly was beginning to swell a little from the life that was growing inside of her but she paid that no mind as she desperately clung onto him. His back hurt where her fingernails dug into his flesh.

"No more, no more," she gasped after another powerful orgasm racked her body.

"But there is more," he barked and rolled her over onto her knees.

"Oh no! Please don't do that," she whimpered, reaching behind herself to pull her buttocks wide apart for him.

He pounded in and out of her bowels and she grunted and cried out in orgasm after orgasm.

"And then," he said as she exited the bathroom.

"No!" she shrieked as he tossed her back onto the bed.

He slid into her wet pussy, kissed her deeply and came in her again.

"Then she left and I never saw her again, until tonight," he wheezed and lay down next to her.

"Well, after all that, who could blame her?" she said. "That was pretty brutal."

"You asked," he defended.

"Uh huh," she said, then took his flaccid cock into her mouth.

She licked and sucked him until he began to get hard again.

"Think you can 'April' me again?" she asked.

"I tell you to quit sucking?" he growled at her.

****

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked as Nicole, Sophia, Freddy, and Johnny tramped into his office.

"Going good, Fred's taking a tour of St. Thomas right now, did you know you and Brother Dominick are cousins?" Nicole asked.

"Yes I did," he admitted.

"And you got him that job, didn't you?" Nicole accused, realizing that her father may have had a hand in Fred's sudden stroke of good luck.

"No ma'am," he said firmly. "I got him the job interview; HE got him that job."

"Thanks, Dad," Nicole said.

"Uh huh, now, where are my grandchildren going to school?" he asked.

"Well, we're still in Lafayette Parish," Nicole said.

"No ma'am, unless you're sending them to Fatima," he said firmly.

"Dad, we can't afford..." Nicole cried out.

"Tell you what, how about St. Richard's?" he suggested.

"Right down the street from St. Thomas's?" Nicole asked.

"Yeah, let me make a phone call," he said and punched in a number.

"Dad, wait," Nicole said. "Um, Sophia, it's not that she's stupid, not by a long stretch, but she has a lot of trouble in regular schools."

"How about if we got her some interpreters?" he asked. "Both U.L.L. and U.L.D. have courses in American Sign Language. We can talk to the professors."

"Dad?" she asked. "You'd do that? For, I mean, she's not your kid and..."

"No, she's not my kid, but she is your sister," Cris said, spoke for a moment into the phone and smiled.

"Okay, the administrator is expecting you and Sophia and Freddy for nine thirty tomorrow morning," he said. "Y'all are going to love St. Richard's; Christopher Michael goes there; he went there for pre-K and will be going to kindergarten this year and is super-excited about it."

"That kid is excited about everything," Nicole laughed.

"Yeah, he's something else," Cris agreed.

"Aw, man, get all them kids out of here," Sweet William ordered as he strolled in.

"Mister William!" Nicole happily said and hugged the large man.

"Are you a giant?" Freddy asked, in awe of the sheer size of the man.

****

Nicole sat, clutching the paperwork and tried to smile reassuringly at Sophia. Sophia had had so much trouble at the last school that she'd simply given up and as a result, instead of progressing on to the third grade, would be repeating the second grade.

She watched in mild interest as a tired looking woman walked out of the administrator's office. The woman was dressed in a short sleeve blouse and her arms were heavily tattooed with dragons. She was dragging a very pretty girl behind her.

Nicole shook her head; both the woman and the child looked out of place here.

"Mrs. Dumas?" the older woman called out and Nicole got to her feet, Freddy and Sophia following.

"Are you the administrator?" Nicole asked, forcing a smile to her face.

"Oh, no no ma'am, I'm Mrs. Dumas's assistant," the woman smiled. "Mrs. Dumas will see you now."

"Well, that's a good sign," Nicole thought. "At least we have the same last name.

"Mrs. Dumas?" Alicia asked, smiling widely. "Hi, I'm Mrs. Dumas, the administrator for St. Richard's."

"Mama, why you crying?" Jamie asked her mother.

"Because, Honey, I'm happy," April managed to choke out. "You're going to get yourself a real good education and that makes me happy."

At first April couldn't believe it when she received the packet of information from St. Richard's; she'd not bothered to enroll Jamie in the prestigious school. Jimbo had left them no insurance policy and no money. They'd long ago sold off the motorcycles to pay the myriad of bills that came along with Jamie. Then anything else of value had been sold when Jimbo got sick. 

Then when Mrs. Dumas followed the packet up with a phone call, she agreed to come in for an interview.

The old woman had ushered her and Jamie into the office and April's blood ran cold when Alicia turned around from the computer and smiled.

Alicia lost the smile when April instinctively pulled Jamie behind herself. Her eyes met April's.

"I would never ever do anything to hurt you or your daughter," she quietly assured April. "Please, please have a seat."

"We'd like for Jamie to attend St. Richard's," Alicia said as April and Jamie sat in the wooden chairs in front of Alicia's desk.

"We ain't got that kind of money," April protested.

"No, no, there's a benefactor that has agreed to pay all expenses, until she graduates from college," Alicia had said, the meaning of who that 'benefactor' was quite clear to April. "Along with a two hundred dollar a month stipend for clothing and school supplies."




Ice Heart Ch. 04



"You are fucking shitting me," April had said, then colored as she remembered her surroundings.

"Please?" Alicia asked. "It would mean so much to Cris and me."

"When Cris and I got married, he asked me to go back to college; I only had three more semesters," Alicia explained to Nicole, who was still giggling over her father and step-mother's deception. "I got my degree in Early Childhood Education with a minor in Business Administration. Sister Andrea retired and Brother Dominick, Cris's cousin came up to us at church and asked me if I'd be interested in the job. Cris and I don't need the money, but I did want to do SOMETHING besides just sitting around the house, so..."

"And when Fred and I moved back to Lafayette..." Nicole said happily.

"We wanted you to be a part of the St. Richard's family," Alicia smiled. "He won't admit it, but all he wants to do is take care of you, take care of his grandchildren."

****

"Hey, shorty, your daddy home?" Sweet William asked Christopher Michael when Christopher Michael answered the door.

"Yeah, Mr. Sweet, come on in," Christopher Michael said and swung the door wide open.

"Hey," Cris said, surprised, when Sweet William swaggered in.

"Hope I ain't interrupting nothing," Sweet William asked.

"No, no, just watching the news; Alicia's cooking; you sticking around for dinner?" Cris asked.

"Nah, got plans, but wanted to talk to you, man to man," Sweet William said, nodding toward the back porch.

"Sure, Honey!" Cris called out."

Yeah?" she called back.

"Sweet William and I be out on the back porch," Cris called back."

Okay," Alicia called back. "He staying for dinner?"

"No, says your cooking's horrible, gives him diarrhea," Cris called back.

"I did not say anything like that!" Sweet William protested.

"That's okay, I'm going to burn his," Alicia laughed.

"Don't you always?" Cris asked as he opened the door to the porch.

"You, um, you remember that girl, Trish? The one from the exercise place?" Sweet William asked as they sat down on the stone bench.

"Trish Miller?" Cris asked. "Yeah, whatever happened to her? I mean, y'all were going at it pretty hot and heavy and then all of a sudden..."

"Yeah, she got scared, she said," Sweet William shrugs. "Anyway, she comes over last week and she says 'Hey, guess what, "Daddy?"' and I'm like 'Oh no you ain't!' and she's all like..."

"Come on, man, speak English," Cris laughed.

"Oh, I keeps forgetting; you white," Sweet William smiled. "She's pregnant."

"So?" Cris asked point blank. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Man, I look at you, and at Alicia; y'all got what? Twenty kids and always wanting more?" Sweet William said and looked as Christopher Michael came running out of the house toward them.

"Hey, Mr. William and I are talking," Cris said to the boy.

"Nah, he ain't hurting nothing," Sweet William smiled at his buddy.

"So?" Cris asked again. "What you going to do about it?"

"Shit, man, I done begged her to marry me," Sweet William smiled broadly. "That's what I come over here for; you be my best man?"

"Why the hell not? You were mine," Cris said and hugged his friend.

"Woo hoo! You getting married, Mr. Sweet?" Christopher Michael asked.

"Yeah, what you think about that?" Sweet William smiled down at the boy.

"That's awesome!" Christopher Michael crowed. "Can I go to your wedding?"

"Aw you know it, my man!" Sweet William agreed. "Wouldn't even dream of getting married if you ain't there."

"Can I bring my girlfriend too?" Christopher Michael asked, accepting the loving hug from the large man.

"A what?" Sweet William laughed out loud. "Boy, ain't you a little young already be having yourself a girlfriend?"

"He's got himself a sweet heart," Cris smiled.

"Yeah, me too, I got me a sweet heart," Sweet William said and hugged the boy tightly. "Yeah, boy, bring your woman."

"Sure you won't join us?" Alicia asked.

"Nah, love to, but got to go; she and her roommate, they cooking up a 'celebration dinner,'" Sweet William smiled and stood up.

"Love you," Cris said sincerely and the two men hugged.

Chapter 16

Pam Broussard's jaw dropped when Trish brought her fiancé into the kitchen to meet her. She had known the man was black; Trish had not made any secret about that. She also knew the man was big; Trish towered over her and Trish said she had to look up to see Willie's face.

But she was not expecting a giant. The man had to duck under the door jamb to enter the room.

"Oh my God," she gasped as Trish smiled proudly, clinging onto the man.

"And this is my best friend in the whole world, Pam," Trish was bubbling. "Pam Ham Broussard."

Paul entered the kitchen, carrying Barbara, Paulie right behind them.

"Hey, brother, help me out here?" Paul asked Sweet William. "Think you can take this little monster down?"

"Him?" Sweet William smiled. "Don't know, he looks kind of mean."

"Ma ma ma ma," Barbara began chanting.

"Better not," Paulie threatened the large man. "I know karate."

"You do not!" Paul laughed and Pam snapped out of her reverie and took Barbara out of Paul's hands.

"So, you the one Trish's always talking about?" Paul asked, shaking the man's hand warmly.

"Yeah, I guess so, depends on what's she saying," Sweet William shrugged.

"I do too," Paulie said. "Watch!"

"Oh, you know, how you almost as good looking as me, almost," Paul smiled.

"Hi Yah!" Paulie screamed and gave his father's leg a chop.

"Ow, boy!" Paul laughed and picked his son up by the legs and dangled the boy upside down.

"Hey!" Paulie called out.

"Almost?" Sweet William laughed.

"See?" Pam slapped Paul on the buttocks with her spatula. "That's why Trish can't wait to get out of here; you always doing stuff like that."

"Oh no, she didn't tell y'all?" Sweet William laughed. "She ain't moving out; I'm moving on in."

"Hmm, going to have to raise all them ceiling fans," Paul pointedly looked at the top of Sweet William's head.

"Put him down, Paul," Pam ordered.

"You heard her; she said 'drop you,'" Paul told Paulie.

"I did not!" Pam said. "I said..."

"No!" Paulie shrieked as Paul dipped him suddenly.

"...Put him down," Pam said."

"Oh, that's different," Paul said and put the boy down.

"It's always like this around here," Trish admitted to Sweet William.

"I see that," he agreed.

"Want a beer before dinner?" Paul asked and reached into the refrigerator for a couple of bottles. 

"Where's Candy?" Pam demanded.

No thanks," Sweet William said, seeing Trish's almost imperceptible shake of her head.

"Getting ready to wake her up," Paul said.

"Come on, let's go into the living room, leave Pam alone so she can cook that mystery meat," Trish said. "She's coon ass, you know, never quite sure what we're eating."

"Damn it, Trish!" Pam yelled. "Keep it up, it WILL be mystery meat on your plate, you hear?"

She turned to Paul and shook her head.

"Here, Baby, take Barbara; I got to finish dinner; burn herd's I swear," Pam said after giving her daughter a big wet kiss.

****

"By the way, I saw April today," Alicia said.

"Oh yeah?" Cris asked, tensing up slightly.

"Yeah, you're paying for Jamie to go to St. Richard's," Alicia said.

"Wow, I am one generous man, huh?" Cris said, relaxing.

"And you're sending April two hundred a month for expenses," Alicia went on.

"Man, I am super nice, huh?" Cris said.

"Cris, that girl is yours, you know that," Alicia said.

"I know," he agreed.

"Jamie Christine Hollister," Alicia said. "Gee, I wonder where the 'Christine' comes from."

"Wouldn't know," Cris said.

"Oh, come on, Cris, Cris, Christine, and Cris, get it?" Alicia said.

"Nope, didn't go to college, get me no edumucation like y'all did," Cris said, squeezing his wife.

"Shut up, butt hole, you're ten times smarter than any of us will ever be," Alicia giggled.

"Think two hundred a month is enough?" Cris asked her.

"I'll ask her next time I see her," Alicia promised, reaching under the blanket for his manhood.

She gripped it and wiggled it a few times.

"Think you could um..." she asked.

"Think you could suck it?" he asked in mock sternness.

****

"That Mrs. Dumas?" April told Jamie as she buttoned up the child's uniform shirt. "You do whatever that woman tells you, you here? She tells you stand on your head, you say 'yes ma'am,' and do it, you hear?"

"Yes ma'am," Jamie promised.

"Here, this is your lunch ticket," April said and put it in the child's back pack. See? It's going in your pocket, the one right up front where your Mickey Mouse pencil is."

"And my crayons!" Jamie said excitedly.

"And your crayons," April agreed. 

She hid behind the tree and watched. Right on schedule, bus number one forty two pulled to a stop and Jamie got on the bus. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand and walked back to the trailer.

"This is Mrs. Dumas," Alicia answered the office phone.

"She's on the bus," April managed to choke out. "My baby, she's on the bus, she's on her way to school."

"Oh, okay, that's great," Alicia said, a little confused.

"This is April," April sobbed out. "I just don't know how, I'll never be able to repay you."

"Hi April," Alicia said, understanding now what the call was about. "You don't owe me any thanks. Cris and I are happy to do it, okay?"

"She does anything, you let me know," April vowed. "I told her to be a good girl; she's not, you let me know, you hear?"

"I have no doubt she's going to be the best little girl in the first grade," Alicia assured April.

April hung up and sighed as Zack started coughing violently again.

They both were in the last stages of AIDS, sharing dirty needles, but Zack Wright had already given up, was just waiting to die. April kept trying to fight it, kept trying to hold on to life as long as possible; when she died, there would be no one to take care of Jamie.

And Zack blamed everyone else but himself for getting the HIV virus; it was his mother's fault, it was his unknown father's fault, it was some bitch girl named Nicole's fault, it was April's fault.

"Ain't no one pushed that fucking needle in your arm but you, mother fucker," April reminded him.

At least she knew it was her and her alone that had shot her full of the fearsome disease.

His attention had been so blatant, almost laughable as she wandered up and down the grocery store aisle. She used her standard 'unless you can eat pussy as good as my girlfriend...' line and laughed out loud when Zack smugly told her "Shit, who you think taught her how to eat it, huh?"

They went back to the trailer; Zack was sleeping on the floor of Rudy's apartment at the time. Jimbo and Big Mike didn't even look up as they cooked up their heroin. April checked on three year old Jamie; still asleep, then dragged Zack into the bedroom.

"Start eating, mother fucker," April said.

He was good and moved his guitar and three pairs of jeans into the trailer that night.

At first April refused to hook him up, refused to show him how to fix himself. Big Mike did not have any reservations about scoring another customer so he showed the long haired kid how to cook up the powder, how to find a good vein, how to release the belt to enjoy the euphoria.

To be fair to Big Mike, he did not know his girlfriend had contracted the HIV virus while turning a few tricks. He did not know he was infecting his friends Jimbo and April and April's latest lover. By the time he found out, it was too late and Jimbo was far from caring any longer.

"Got any cigarettes?" Zack asked after he finished coughing.

"Last one, mother fucker, you can kiss my ass you think you getting it," April said and dug the cigarette out of the pack.

"Fucking bitch," Zack whined.

"This is Cris," he said when Sandra patched the call through to him.

"Cris, this is April," April said. "I need to; can I come see you about something?"

****

Christopher Michael made sure he was sitting right next to Sophia as Mr. Sweet and Miss Trish got married. His dad looked real important, standing there in his tuxedo, helping Mr. Sweet. The little midget helping Miss Trish looked kind of funny, though; everyone else was twice her size.

Paul and Cindy sat together, Paulie on Paul's left, Barbara in Paul's lap, and Candy in Cindy's lap. 

"I do promise to love you, to honor you, to cherish you for as long as we both shall live," William promised and Trish smiled as she watched the tears streaming down the large man's cheeks.

"The ring is a circle; it has no beginning and no end. It is a fitting symbol of love, the love that William and Patricia share for one another," the minister intoned.

The reception was next door in the church hall.

"Aw, yeah, J.T., he's my boy!" Christopher Michael crowed when the DJ announced he'd be playing one of Justin Timberlake's songs next.

He jumped down from his seat at the banquet table and ran around to where Sophia was sitting.

"Na'ole!" she called out in alarm as Christopher Michael was trying to drag her onto the dance floor.

"Try," Nicole encouraged the girl. "You try."

"Da!" Sophia cried out, trying to get Fred to intervene for her.

"Try," Fred signed to her. "You do what he does, you try."

"Come on, you'll love it," Christopher Michael encouraged.

Mimicry was something Sophia was good at, so she mimicked Christopher Michael's moves.

Quickly she noticed that when she felt a vibration, Christopher Michael would put his right foot forward and swivel. The vibrations were steady and she began to follow the vibrations as well.

"Aw yeah, hit it girl!" Christopher Michael encouraged.

"Woo! Look at that boy!" Sweet William laughed.

He walked over to the disc jockey and slipped the man a twenty dollar bill.

"Keep that tune going, know what I'm saying?" he said and pointed out the two children dancing and smiling happily at each other.

"You sure that boy's white?" Fred nudged Cris as they were both videotaping Christopher Michael and Sophia dancing.

He glows in the dark, he's so white," Cris laughed.

"See?" Nicole signed when Sophia and Christopher Michael, both sweating, finally came back to the table. "Try. You like, right?"

In answer, Sophia hugged her sister tightly. Fred cane up, putting the video camera down on the table.

"Hey, good looking, want to dance?" Fred asked.

"Yeah, right," Nicole smiled as she stood up. "You just want an excuse to rub all up over me."

"That's dancing, right?" Fred smiled.

"Only kind I know," Nicole agreed.

****

Alicia leaned heavily against Cris after he buckled Cynthia into her car seat.

"I love weddings," she whispered to him.

"Uh huh, you love champagne," he smiled and kissed her.

"Take me home," she whispered seductively. "Get them brats in bed, then come 'April' me, you hear?"

"Jamie?" Cris asked, nodding his head toward the girl that sat buckled in the middle of the back seat.

""Staying over; she's going to church with us tomorrow morning," Alicia said. "Now, quit dawdling, lover boy."

"The baby?" he asked, rubbing her belly.

"Baby will be fine," she insisted and opened her car door.

He looked at the minivan next to theirs; Paul Robichaux was passed out in the rear of the car as Pam and Cindy bustled about getting their children into their car seats. The young man had started drinking the minute the bar opened and had only stopped when the bartender refused to serve him any more drinks.

Cindy made eye contact with Cris then looked down in embarrassment.

Sophia peered out the window of their SUV at Christopher Michael and smiled when he looked over at her. She held up her right hand, thumb, forefinger and pinky extended; 'I Love You.' 

Her smile widened even more when he returned the gesture and blushed as he blew her a kiss.

"Hey, Dad, hang onto this, hear?" Christopher Michael said patting the sleeve of Cris's tuxedo. "You go to need it when me and Sophia get married."

"Hang on," Alicia said, smiling. "How you know she's going to want to marry you?"

"What?" Christopher Michael asked, incredulous that she would even ask such a question. "Cracker please! Look at me! I am all that and a bag of M&Ms!"

"Hey, do not call your mother a 'cracker,'" Cris ordered.

"A bag of M&Ms?" Alicia asked. "Isn't it supposed to be 'a bag of chips?'"

"Oh yeah, melt in your mouth, not in your hands," Christopher Michael said smugly.

"Christopher Michael, that's nasty!" Alicia screeched, trying very hard not to laugh.

The End.

**This is the end of the 'Ice Heart' series.