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Cafe Lawyer Ch. 01

By: shuttlepilot



While the front coffee shop was full of its morning customers, the dining room in the back was closed as usual until dinner. I put my laptop down on my table in the back corner and waited for it to boot as Suzie, my usual waitress, brought over my breakfast... Belgium waffle, strawberries, coffee now and iced tea, later...

"Good morning, Hon," she said, pouring my coffee, "how was your weekend?"

"Lonely without you, Suzie," I replied, laughing as she gave me a kiss on the cheek while my desktop background appeared. Optimus Prime... so, I was still a kid at heart.

"Oh, if I wasn't married..." she said, leaving me to my strawberry waffle.

As I watched her sway away, I connected to my aunt's café's WiFi and logged on. Even with running a thirty-dollar tab each weekday because I tipped the girls very well, it was much cheaper than paying the rent on an office and paying for my meals separately somewhere else. Sometimes, though, I wondered if eating three meals a day there was going to kill me. Maybe, I thought, it was time to start ordering from the left side of the menu.

A shadow crossed the table and I looked up at a dark brunette who looked back, albeit with a sense of misgiving on her face.

"Mr. Martin?" she asked, fidgeting from one foot to the other.

"Yes? Are you Mrs. Jondle?" She was on time, I thought. I hated waiting for people.

"Yes. May I sit down?" she asked, nervously.

"Please do. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, hot tea, perhaps..."

"No, that's OK. Do you do all your business in a restaurant?"

"It makes for a more interesting background, don't you think. And, if someone were to see you, you could just say you were meeting an old friend rather than a lawyer. I own it with my aunt, in case you were wondering."

She sat there for a moment, digesting what I had suggested and then had a little half-smile for me. "I guess that makes sense, even if it IS a little strange."

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Jondle? Other than the obvious, I mean."

"I want to sue my husband's girlfriend for stealing my husband, lying, defamation of character and making me lose money. I want to hurt her as badly as I can."

"I appreciate that," I said, "but this is a no-fault state and no matter what you want to do, the state sometimes sees things a little differently. Do you have any children? Are you working? Do you own a home? These are the things that I need to know and then we can go from there."

"No children, no job, no home... I just want a divorce and I want to sue her."

I looked at the woman, who, in my opinion was reasonably good looking with long dark-brown hair, deep, dark eyes and a hint of a smile still on her lips. Her wire-rimmed glasses gave her that 'naughty librarian' look that somehow excited me and I looked away toward my laptop, trying to control my newfound arousal. I looked closer and even in the dimmer light of the café's back room I could see where she had put makeup to cover a bruise on the side of her eye.

"Do you have any idea why he's...?"

"Cheated on me? Yes. He wanted to join a swap group and I told him 'no'. I've done some things in my life that I'm not truly proud of today, but I'm not a slutty whore like that."

For a moment, I looked at her, wondering what kind of slutty whore she COULD be but then I saw a woman who needed my help. Without asking, Suzie brought over another cup of coffee and placed it in front of Mrs. Jondle.

She looked up at the waitress, with sort of a 'deer in the headlights' look. If anyone needed my help, it was her.

"He's hit you, hasn't he?" I said.

She unconsciously put her hand to her face. "Uh, no, not really, it was her..."

"Look, I'll get you into a shelter or..." and for the life of me, I didn't know why I said it, "you can stay with my aunt. She has plenty of room." What I didn't say was that my aunt stayed with me. Same difference, I thought.

"Your aunt?" she asked in a faraway distant voice, her eyes still staring off into space.

"Yeah, I'll let her know before we leave. Now, tell me everything you can about your husband."

For the next three hours, Carol told me about growing up in a small town called Seligman in northern Arizona between Kingman and Flagstaff. It really was in the middle of nowhere and if it weren't for the resurgence of interest in Old 66, the town would have dried up years ago. As it was, it ran about two blocks long and two streets over and that was it.

She got a chance to go to UCLA, jumped at the chance and that's where she met her husband, Bill Jondle, a professor who oversaw doctoral candidates in biology. She thought he was in love with her and she was in love with him and they were married and eventually, his true nature became apparent.

There was no way I was sending her back to her apartment.

"Excuse me," I said, getting up and walking back into the kitchen. My aunt was talking to Juan, the morning cook. I 'harumphed' my throat a couple of times and when she turned, she gave me a smile.

"Jim, will you please tell Juan that not everything has to be so goddamn spicy."

"Juan, not everything has to be so goddamn spicy. Aunt Claudine, I need to speak with you a moment, please."

She turned to me and I saw Juan give me a wink. I sometimes thought there was something going on between the two of them but then shook my head. She was 53 and he was 22... nah, I thought, couldn't be. The thought made me shiver. There damn well better not be... I'd kick his ass back to Ensenada. 

"There's a woman out there..." I started to say.

"In your office?" she said, grinning.

I waited for her to stop making me look foolish. She liked doing that. She said it made me more human. "She's going to be staying in the guest room. Her husband's girlfriend's been beating on her... and she's suing."

"Oh, God," said my aunt. "Sure, whatever you need. Wait a minute... you said she wants to sue her husband's girlfriend?"

"Yeah... hey, don't look at me. I'da just got her arrested, myself."

I wondered for a moment how she could agree so quickly until I remembered that her own husband, Phillip, had abused her before he died of lung cancer. As bad as it had been, she was convinced that it was because he was so sick and none of the doctors he had seen had helped him, telling him it was in his head. Today, with modern medicine, that wouldn't have happened but back in the late 60s...

I returned to my table and she was gone but the scent of her perfume remained, making my skin tingle. I cursed myself for being so easily aroused but she had smelled better than any woman had a right to be. It was making my head spin. Had it been that long since I had been with a woman that she was affecting me so deeply?

I knew I should have been smarter and not let an attractive... no, beautiful face entice me like she had. I shook my head and sat down, hoping that she would get over her anxiety and see me again. I brought up the morning news on my laptop and starting reading.

They say when in the seconds before you die your entire life flashes before you. I didn't know about that and hoped not to find out too soon but I discovered that when you're sexually deprived, every fantasy you've ever had about a woman flashes through your mind.

There was a shadow across the table.

"I'm sorry, I had to go to the bathroom," she said. "I forgot about your computer. I shouldn't have left it alone. I'm sorry." She cringed, thinking I was going to berate her. What had she gone through, I wondered.

"That's OK. The girls watch it for me. I thought that you..." I became quiet. There was no sense in making her more uncomfortable than necessary.

It seemed that her loving husband had been having an affair with his sister and it only became obvious when some video of an Easter dinner had been shown. The glances they gave each other were so telling... but, then, you had to know what to look for in the video.

We talked through lunch and then I took her home. "I won't be back, today," I told Sally, the front hostess.

"OK, Jim," she said, laughing, "then we'll use your table."

..... .....

I got Carol situated in the front bedroom and went into my bedroom to put down my computer. About that time, I realized that she had no other clothes but what she was wearing on her back. I decided to leave that to my aunt to take care of. The two of them seemed similar in size, if not necessarily in taste. 

At any rate, I needed to start putting the paperwork together so that her husband and sister could be served as soon as possible. 

"Wash your face and come back here," I started to say. "I want to photograph that bruise."

"But..." She seemed on the verge of tears.

"No buts... just do it. We'll need it to pressure her for what we want."

..... .....

We had dinner that night in the house for I didn't want anyone to see her with me or anyone else. Half a box of spaghettini, some Italian sausage, a couple of tomatoes and a can of olives and one of mushrooms and we were ready. I took a deep breath of the aromatic steam rising from the sizzling skillet. Life was good... at least, during mealtimes. The Italian in me always came out in the kitchen.

"So, you cook on top of being a lawyer. Are you a cook who does law or a lawyer who cooks?"

"I'm a cook who does law. I started working with my aunt way back while I was in high school and kept going. How's your food?"

"Fantastic. You took something so simple and made it special."

"Thank you." I glanced toward counter. "I've carrot cake for dessert."

"Did you make that, too?" she asked, smiling for the first time since I met her.

"No, that came from the café. I don't have that much free time."

That night, we talked about everything except what was really on my mind. At ten, I excused myself, telling her I was going to bed.

"Well, I might as well, too," she said, getting up. "Thank you."

..... .....

The next morning, while I was dressing to go to the café, she knocked on my bedroom door. "Just a minute," I said, pulling on my shirt.

I opened the door. "What can I do for you?" I asked, knowing what I wanted to do for her.

"I was wondering how you liked your eggs."

I was surprised. It never occurred to me that she would cook breakfast but then, she had to eat, even if I would have gone to the café. "Any way is fine, thanks."

I sat down at the table and she put together a decent omelet, using the last of the mozzarella cheese. I reminded myself to put it down on the grocery list. My aunt loved mozzarella, usually on white rice with tomato sauce. Me, I liked it more as part of a pizza. That was the Italian in me, I guess. 

"I'll be gone for a while, I have to get some papers filed and then I'll be back. Stay here."

I packed up my valise and left for the courthouse.

..... .....

Later in the morning, just before noon, I returned with her copies of the lawsuit. I had arranged for her husband's girlfriend, the sister, to be served at the university. It seemed like an appropriate thing to do... higher learning and all.

My aunt had brought home fresh dough the night before and so I was going to make a pizza but then I remembered there was no mozzarella so I put the dough back into the refrigerator and made a couple of tuna sandwiches on the fresh bread she had also brought home.

"This is really good," Carol said. "This bread is fantastic."

"It's made fresh every morning. Since we eat at the café every day, we usually don't have that much in the house unless it's something to make for fun food like pizza or something like that. Usually, I just bring something home."

I could tell she was looking at me. "I, uh, exercise every night, an hour on the treadmill and the bike and I lift every other day."

I saw her blush.

..... .....

The next two days almost went by as usual, except for the fact that I had an unexpected houseguest who was suing her husband's girlfriend while seeking a divorce and my own ex-wife came by, asking for more money.

The first day was taken up by a lawsuit against a hit-and-run driver, a basketball player with the Lakers, who had not only driven drunk but had tried to flee the country. I had my eye on a huge payout and planned on stripping him of a good piece of what he owned. I hated drunk drivers, having been hit twice, myself. Suing for ten million left plenty of wiggle-room in negotiations and I planned on negotiating a good piece of my retirement. Whoever says it's not about the money is a liar or a fool.

The next day, two more lawsuits... one between neighbors and a broken pool drain that turned the other yard into a swamp and an accident lawsuit that I hoped just went to mediation and be done with. 

And then, Susan, my very pregnant ex-wife, entered the dining room and sat down at my table. The stupid woman had fallen prey to the myth of the black man and I refused to take her back when I learned of her recklessness.

"Hello, Jimmy," she said, expectantly.

I had told her never to call me that again and as usual, she didn't feel she had to listen. "What do you want, Susan?" I said, angrily. "I'd say you look good but that would be a lie." I wondered what drugs he had been feeding her, now.

"We... I was wondering if you'd help us out. With the baby coming..." Her voice dropped down and became inaudible.

"Look, Susan, the whole reason I gave you that check last time was so that I didn't have to talk to you, see you, pay you again. Go talk to your shithead of a boyfriend and leave me alone."

I noticed some movement near the door that separated the dining room from the coffee shop area. It was him, Joseph. Even now, with her asking me for money, he was wearing his stupid gold chains. Let him sell them, I thought, and just leave me alone.

"You should go, Susan, and don't come back. You've done enough to me. I can' help it if you didn't watch the money like you should have. Goodbye."

"Jimmy..." She started to pout.

"Goodbye, Susan. Don't come back... ever." I could see him starting to walk toward us. What a loser, I thought. After all that happened, he still hadn't married her. Well, hell, I wouldn't have, either... stupid, cheating bitch.

I reached into my briefcase and pulled out my 9mm, resting it in my hand, my finger on the trigger. "What do YOU want, Joseph? I don't recall inviting you in."

He stopped short, looking at the gun in my hand, pointed dead center at his chest. His hands slowly went up and he slowly backed away.

"I see you again, Joseph," I said in a low voice, "I'm going to kill you. Now, take your whore with you and leave me alone."

They left, Susan looking back over her shoulder at me, probably wondering how I had become such a hard person. Look in the mirror, Susan, look in the mirror.

..... .....

That night, I brought home dinner for the two of us, Carol and me, and we ate like an old married couple, surprisingly so comfortable that for a moment I forgot that she had only been with me a few days. Maybe it was the aftermath of seeing my cheating ex-wife that did it, I don't know.

Avocat et Oeufs à la Mousse de Crabe, or Avocado and Eggs with Crab mousse, followed by fresh berries and cream... Just because it was a café didn't mean it served hamburgers all day long.

Prior to the no-fault divorce revolution, a divorce could be obtained only through a showing of fault of one of the parties in a marriage. This was something more than not loving one another; it meant that one spouse had to plead that the other had committed adultery, abandonment, felony, or other similarly culpable acts. However, the other spouse could plead a variety of defenses, like recrimination (essentially an accusation of "so did you"). A judge could find that the respondent had not committed the alleged act or the judge could accept the defense of recrimination and find both spouses at fault for the dysfunctional nature of their marriage.

Now, California had a simple, no-fault divorce situation in place and I intended to use it to her advantage, just as I had done for myself. It was going to make family re-unions quite interesting, though, sitting around the dinner table at Christmas.

..... .....

The next morning, I completed all the paperwork with the court and had her husband and his girlfriend served. I would have liked to have seen what the woman's face looked like when that had happened. I probably could have put it on YouTube and made a lot of money.

I returned to the café and worked on several pending lawsuits and two other divorces. The day dragged on. All I could think of was Carol waiting for me at the house. Was I falling for her? I definitely was infatuated, that was for sure. Susan's visit hadn't done anything to my frame of mind.

I had no appointments that day and I could have done the paperwork at the house but I wanted to put a little distance between Carol and myself, hating myself at the same time but not wanting to do anything I would later regret.

I spent an hour going through my emails, a lot from my former high school classmates. Most had done well in life, luckily, considering the economics of the day. One especially hard working guy had two full-time jobs and a side business selling comic books on the internet. He had just bought a Corvette so I guess Spiderman was paying well.

I called the house. "I'll be bringing home dinner in about an hour. What would you like?"

I could hear the pause on the line. "Whatever you want," Carol said. "I'm not picky."

I ordered a couple of rib-eyes to grill at home with baked potatoes, salad and vegetables, and two pieces of cherry pie ready to go.

Carol was much livelier at dinner that night even though I could see that she was still shy around me. She had set the table and was pouring some Chianti as I walked into the house with the food. She quickly took the three bags from me and I put my laptop away, resolving to leave it off for the rest of the evening.

I put the steaks on the grill that she had already started and sipped the wine while I watched them cook. Sometimes, life was good and I felt better than I had in a long time, idly wondering what life with her would be like if we somehow connected.

As I sat down fifteen minutes later, she lit two table candles and turned off the lights in the dining room. The mood immediately changed and I considered that she was interested in me, too.

"...and so, when he pulled down the chart, out popped the playboy foldout!"

I laughed at her story and wished that we had met in college, letting us both bypass our two horrible marriages. Life would have been so much easier, for me, at least.

"The best I can say is that I took a class on Shakespeare but I ended up dropping it. It was so boring."

"What do you like?" she asked, cutting a small piece from her rib-eye.

"Science fiction, mostly... and, romance novels."

She looked up at me, a smile crossing her face. "Romance novels?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Hey, I... well, I started reading them after my divorce, wondering if I could find out what I did wrong."

"What did you find out?" she asked. She put some sour cream on her potato and mixed it up a little with the butter.

"Nothing. Susan was foolish and paid the price for it. After I found out about her... her affair and the drugs she started taking, it was over."

"I'm sorry," she said, quietly. "Somehow, I didn't think... well, I hoped it wasn't your fault."

""Don't be. It would have happened sooner or later. She just... ah, the hell with it, let's talk about something else, OK?"

"Sure. Can you tell me anything about what you're doing?"

And so, the rest of the evening, I told her about my various cases, without naming names. Susan had never shown much interest in my work unless it was to find out how much my fee would be. The more I talked with Carol, the more I wondered what I had been thinking marrying Susan. I had been so much in love with her but it wasn't enough. Maybe counseling would have helped if what she had done had never happened.


Cafe Lawyer Ch. 01



We watched "Breakfast at Tiffany's" with Audrey Hepburn; I still find it hard to believe that Truman Capote wrote the thing. I went to bed at eleven and slept the whole night through for the first time in years.

..... .....

The next morning, I groaned as the alarm clock screeched its 'good morning' call and when I reached to punch it off, I knocked it onto the floor and beneath the bed. I covered my head with my pillow, wishing the world would just go away. Why I felt hung over, I had no idea for I had only drunk two glasses of wine.

Rolling out of bed and onto the floor, I reached for the still screaming clock and finally turned it off. I looked around the room. As dark as it still was, I knew I had slept alone and the wild ideas floating through my mind were the result of dreams that had given life to my desires.

Walking into the bathroom, I closely looked at my reflection for the first time since my separation, running two fingers across my rough, auburn colored beard. I shaved three times, both up and down and across until my face was as smooth as glass and then stepped into the shower.

I chose a dark lavender shirt and matching tie to wear and went into the kitchen. Carol had waited breakfast for me and as she poured my morning coffee, she slowly ran her hand across my face, leaving it there just long enough to be more than just a momentary hesitation.

"Good morning, sleepy head," she greeted me.

"Morning..." I watched as she deftly cracked two eggs into the skillet and began frying up two sunny-side-up eggs to go with the hash browns she had keeping warm in the oven.

"You didn't have much else in the house..." she started to say.

"No, this is fine," I replied, not used to domesticity so early in the morning. For the last several years, breakfast at the café had been my daily routine and having to eat before leaving the house was an almost forgotten experience for me.

I had two appointments to meet and left after breakfast with Carol. By the time I reached the café, I was happy, finding myself in what could be considered a 'normal' relationship for the first time since I found out Susan was cheating on me.

My first meeting that morning was with a woman who had driven around the crossing gates and had been hit by a train. It was her contention that the railroad was at fault since...

I had stopped listening at that point and tried to explain that she had no case against the railroad. In fact, she would be lucky if the railroad didn't sue her for damage to the front of the locomotive. She angrily left, calling me useless. It wasn't the first time; Susan having been the first to acknowledge some perceived shortcoming on my part.

I had lunch, a salad this time, dressing on the side. With Carol living in the house, I had gotten away from my routine of daily exercise.

"James Martin?"

"Yes. Mr. Turling?"

"Yes." Turling looked around, somewhat unsure considering we were meeting in a café dining room.

"Please, sit down. You said you wanted to speak about having a new will drawn up."

"That's right. I want to cut my wife out of my will."

"That may not be as easy as it sounds. Do you have a pre-nup in effect? How are your accounts held? Your property?"

An hour later, we had straightened out the basics for what he wanted. He had stupidly married a woman more interested in his business partner than him. I had asked him why not just get a divorce but he was vague, giving an answer that really made no sense to me but he was the client. I promised to have the new paperwork ready for him in two days. He left me with a check and walked out just in time for my afternoon piece of Dutch apple pie.

..... .....

Several weeks had gone by until one evening, I left to return home and walked out to my car in the back of the café.

Waiting for me were Joseph and two of his thuggish friends; I didn't think he'd have enough to take me on his own. 

"I want money," he said as his two friends joined rank next to him. Ah crap, I thought, hoping it was all a bad dream.

"Look, I told Susan there was no more money and there isn't. Why don't you take your friends and go home and screw that slut of an ex-wife of mine and leave me alone."

"I guess you didn't hear me too good. I said I want..."

I pulled my automatic clipped to my belt and quietly said, "I told you not to come around again, you bastard." A little louder, I said, practically screaming, "Leave now. I feel I am in danger of my life. I am going to shoot." I shot and shot and shot. I know I missed at least a couple of times for the window of a car behind them blew out and the alarm went off but I hit them enough times that they all went down. I guess they weren't expecting that. Joseph never had too much respect for husbands. Too bad.

I put my gun back into my belt clip and waited for the police to arrive, finally noticing the crowd of people from the café's kitchen standing behind me. Juan walked out to me and led me back into the building, finally giving me some hot tea to drink.

"Don't worry, we saw it all," he said, giving me a smile. "Now, quick, tell me what happened." I looked at him and smiled. I guess he could date my aunt if he wanted.

Quickly speaking in Spanish, he explained to the others exactly what to tell the police and then told me what he had said. Strangely enough, a gun appeared and was put into Joseph's hand. I didn't ask.

The police and EMTs finally arrived. It was touch and go for one of them. I had nicked his femoral artery and he was bleeding pretty good. I absent-mindedly considered how much work would be necessary to wash down the parking lot. Joseph... I somehow put two into his lower abdomen and one into his crotch and the last 'banger, just one to the stomach. Of course, I had missed several times, putting expensive holes into three cars near the fence.

"I understand you knew the deceased," the first detective said.

"Yes, he's my whore of an ex-wife's boyfriend. They came around a couple weeks back asking for money. She's pregnant."

"No chance it's yours?" asked the second one.

"It's been more than two years. She used to be a high school English teacher over at North but it turned out she like working with the basketball team more. She had been doing it for about five years, more or less, from before we were married. I was stupid. She got caught. Someone couldn't keep their mouth shut, I guess, and she lost her job. He thought threatening me for money would work."

The police took my gun, took my statement again, took everyone else's and finally left. I was still standing there, holding my cup of tea in slightly shaking hands. Juan came up to me and again said not to worry, that they saw the whole thing. I guess they were Superman's cousins, able to see through walls.

..... .....

The next morning, Carol was wearing jeans and a thin cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled back to reveal her tanned arms. I felt myself develop a physical response to her in quite an intense way. I had tried not to but I couldn't deny the way my body was reacting to her now. Maybe, it was just a reaction to the night before.

It was all too easy imagining touching her skin, running my fingers along her skin in a caress, knowing that I was going to reach for her and kiss her, hoping that when I held her she would understand the effect she was having on me.

I closed my eyes, trying to blot out the image of her sensuous body and the fantasy that it had given rise to but the act simply intensified what I was feeling.

"I made breakfast," she said, softly.

The words seemed to float on the silence of the room and I tried to use them to bring me back to a normal something. I turned my back to her as she poured my morning coffee but then I turned back and took hold of her arms before she could stop me and she trembled, not from any hurt but from being so close to me.

"We can't," Carol said, kissing me.

"I know," I answered, kissing her back, running my hands across her back.

"We shouldn't," she said, unbuckling my belt and pushing down my pants.

"Yes, we should," I answered, kicking away my pants. I picked her up and took her to my bedroom, kissing her neck from her collar to her ear. Then I kissed her on the lips, nibbling and delving into her mouth with my tongue, hoping to send a much wanted desire throughout her body.

Lifting my head, I looked down at her, taking in the shape of her face, looking into her soul. It seemed like she knew what to do and, taking in a deep breath, she cried, desperately, "Jimmy, make love to me."

I pulled her more tightly into my arms, forcing her back against the bedroom wall. She seemed to go weak from my kiss, grabbing my arms for support, her breasts flattening against my chest, her body limp. My thighs and pelvis thrust against her, pushing harder.

Suddenly, Carol bit me, her teeth sinking into my shoulder. I would have jumped from the pain but my need for her overwhelmed everything else.

She tried to keep her eyes open, I could tell, but had to close them as I kissed her, again. It seemed as if she was pulling herself closer to me, struggling to get as near as possible.

My hands came to her sides, just far enough that my hands caressed the sides of her breasts and I could feel them tighten under my touch. I groaned. "You know," I said, trying to be a gentleman, "where this is going, don't you?" I took a deep breath. "I can't take it if you change your mind."

"Don't you want me?" she asked, almost pleadingly. "Please, Jimmy," she whispered, pushing against my hips. 

I lowered my head to kiss her again. I was afraid she would somehow change her mind and didn't know if I could live with that.

I had never tasted anything as addictive as her warm lips. I leaned into her, my body molding itself to her curves as my hands explored further. She gasped as my hand slid beneath her blouse. I paused and held my breath and then pushed aside the fabric when she relaxed again. The sight I uncovered took my breath away. I covered the mounds of her breasts above her lacy white bra with kisses and I couldn't help smiling as I heard a gasp of pleasure from her lips as my tongue sneaked beneath the edge of the lace.

I tasted each inch of skin as it was uncovered and then I realized that I was still dressed, myself. I laid her on the bed and within moments, my clothes were scattered on the bedroom floor. I could see her eyes widen as she looked at my arousal. "Touch me," I said, hoping she would.

Carol did.

Her hand moved gently at first, touching me, her fingers stopping briefly at my curly dark red hair and then down. She moved her hand shyly, moving slowly, giving a low moan as she did.

I moved onto the bed and lay beside her. My hand cupped her breast and my thumb touched her taut nipple growing rigid. My hand stroked her leg and then edged upward toward her moist, exquisite heat.

"You know what?" she whispered.

"What?" I asked, still moving my fingers over her almost perfect flesh.

"You don't need any practice, do you?" she asked.

I thought about my disastrous marriage to Susan and looked at the woman before me. "Not with someone that I care for," I said, quietly, banishing the last thoughts of my adulterous ex-wife to hell.

Her kisses didn't stop. "Does that bother you?" I said.

"Not really," Carol said, surprisingly. "Well, just a little. Does it bother you that I'm not really that experienced?"

"I'm looking forward to teaching you everything you'll ever need to know."

"Is this what you do? Have affairs with your clients?"

"Not until you," I honestly answered, "and I'd like you to be the last woman I'm ever with."

Her kiss was sweet, tender then hungry. She sighed. "You still believe in marriage?"

I thought about it. "With the right woman... are you the right woman?"

"I could be... if you want me. We can have a family."

"That's what you want?"

"That's all that I ever wanted. Can I stay in your room?"

"Yes." I knew the commitment I was making and didn't hesitate. Her legs opened enough and I slid between them. "Since I met you, I haven't really thought of anything else except making love with you." I took full advantage, tasting her, teasing her, tempting her. 

She laced her fingers behind my neck and kissed me back. What had seemed so complicated now seemed so simple. I wanted her. I needed her. I liked her. I never felt something quite so wonderful.

I tried to make magic, kissing her neck, her ear, her eyelids. My lips came away, damp, tasting of salt. I savored the texture of her nipples, the tautness fitting between my lips, my teeth teasing them lightly. I moved one hand over her stomach, wondering when I would put a baby there. I became ever more erect at the thought and could hardly wait to lay claim to this woman. My hands began a slow, reverent journey across her body, and with a slight movement, I was on my back and she was on top. I enjoyed the feeling of her touching me with her body.

One hand held her waist while the other explored her smooth back, memorizing where the flatness stopped and the roundness began. I could feel her quiver in anticipation, what I hoped was anticipation, what I knew was anticipation.

Gently moving her to the side, my hand skirted her hips and touched her curly hair. She moaned. I let my hand linger between Carol's thighs for a moment before moving on and then my fingers slipped inside her.

"Are you trying to torture me?" she asked, her hands' fingers grasping me, trying to pull me closer. 

"Yes," I said, "I want you to want me as much as I want you."

"I want you," she moaned, "oh, God, how I want you." She moved slightly. "Jimmy, please make love to me."

I moved and slid inside her warmth and felt her tighten around me and then we began to move in an ancient rhythm and I thought I heard her call my name and then I was lost as I exploded deep within her.

..... .....

The next morning, my Aunt Claudine didn't even raise an eyebrow to the new sleeping arrangements. I guess it was her upbringing, having lived all those years in France. It always struck me strange, a bunch of Italians who had moved to France following the War. It takes all kinds to make the world go round, I guess. Me, I'm an American, through and through.

The three of us drove together to the café and after I walked to the back, Carol joined me for breakfast.

"I spoke to your aunt," she began, "and we decided you need to eat more healthily. You're getting a lot of empty carbs in the morning and that's not good for you. I changed your order..."

"Oh?" I asked, surprised where this was leading but realized that I had already decided to start ordering from the left side of the breakfast menu, just not so soon.

"Yes... we're going to start with oatmeal and strawberries, some fresh fruit salad, maybe some cottage cheese..." Her voice dropped off, I guess wondering if she had overstepped some unseen boundary.

"I wonder if you would mind me working here. Staying at the house all day, alone, is driving me crazy and I don't think anything could happen to me, here in the restaurant."

I looked at her, wondering in my own mind whether that would be a good idea or not, especially considering what had happened to me in the parking lot. But, she had a point. Truth be told, I'd rather have her where I could see her than wandering around the mall or something. It was then I felt that overwhelming need to be with her that echoed how I felt with Susan when we had first met, so long ago.

Obviously, she had talked to my aunt beforehand and soon was filling in for the other girls during breaks, walking around filling coffee cups and iced tea glasses and eventually, days off. 

Lunch that day was a salad and I imagined the few pounds I had gained in my two-year misery start to disappear as I put another forkful into my mouth. I decided to hit the treadmill at the house to hurry things along and speculated whether buying some decent weights would help out.

One morning, while we were having breakfast before she started, she quietly looked at me and then asked, "Jim, are we a couple? Or, just friends with..."

I gazed at her. "I never thought I'd say this to another woman," I said, almost slowly in a dream, "but, I'm in love with you and hope that you feel the same way, too."

Her smile shone across the table like morning daylight and my oatmeal tasted so much better that day.

A month had gone by and I had expected more fallout from the shooting in the parking lot but evidently the police and the district attorney were happy to put "paid" to them. I wondered what Susan was going to do now... no, not really. If I never saw her again, it was too soon. The betrayal still hurt, even after all this time and I wondered if I would ever get over it. Somehow, I believed that the pain, while diminishing each day, would still live in the back of my heart 'till the day I died.

Carol's paperwork moved through the court system and I worked on other matters. I began to cross off the days on the calendar while the six months were passing by; I was that in love with her.

..... .....

The lawsuit again the drunken basketball player had finally settled. Even I was amazed at how easily the millions came in from both him and the bar he was drinking at. I guess they were afraid of a jury verdict when my client would have been rolled in on his wheelchair. Works for me, I thought, as I mentally banked the two point two million I was putting into my own account. I was just glad the case wasn't a wrongful death one.

..... .....

Late Friday night, I took Carol to the Charthouse in Redondo Beach. I had reserved the corner window table that looked north toward Malibu's lights. A long time past, I had taken Susan there, when I had proposed to her and I decided it was time to make new memories there that wouldn't haunt me each lonely night of my life. I liked the restaurant too much to keep it only a memory.

Carol ordered the slow roasted Prime Rib while I had the Mahi. Putting a spoonful of caviar onto the water cracker from the salad bar, I wondered if it was the right time to ask her or not. The ring was burning a hole in my pocket and I subconsciously touched the box every few moments, reassuring myself it was still there.

"Carol," I started to say, reaching across the table to hold her hand.

"Jim, you look so serious."

"Are you happy?" I asked, my fingers tightening their grip around hers as the shadows danced across the table from the small candle between us.

"Yes... why do you ask? Is something wrong? Have I done something wrong?"

"Oh, God, no... I, uh... Carol, will you marry me?"



Cafe Lawyer Ch. 02



Copyright @ shuttlepilot and calibeachgirl

All rights reserved, 2012

*

The momentary clink of her fork hitting her dish brought me back to my senses, refusing to accept the confused look on her face. The people at the next table were now watching, their gaze piercing the small distance between us.

"Oh, my God, Jim," she whispered, "oh, my God, yes."

"I think we should go," she said, putting her napkin on the table and standing up. I waved for the check and after leaving five twenties, we left.

..... .....

The next evening, I returned home to find that Carol had left her ring on the bedroom dresser, emptied out the closet and was gone. I slept alone for the first time in weeks. The bed seemed so empty without her and as much as I didn't want to, I cried that night.

A week later, she was still missing... not a word, not even a "Dear John" letter. Not exactly what I was expecting, given everything that had gone between us. I mean, what the..., right? How had I misunderstood our relationship so completely? I guess I was foolish, thinking that love could really come my way. At least this time, I found out before making the serious mistake of getting married again. It's like being able to look into a person's soul and see their deepest secrets and darkest fears and I had been hit in the face with both of them. 

..... .....

I tried to settle back into my original routine of eating at the café. I went so far as to return to my original breakfast of waffles and coffee. What did I care if I lived longer if I was condemned to be alone?

My aunt finally spoke to me. "What did you do? I thought you were both in love."

"I was," I said, quietly. "I was." I was.

After I went home, I laid on the sofa, my arm over my eyes, wondering just what had happened. 

I didn't go in the next day which caused an angry phone call from Suzie, wondering where the hell I was. I had totally forgotten about my eleven o'clock appointment. I apologized, said I'd be there in half-an-hour and to offer the woman a free lunch.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Mrs. Grant. Car trouble, you know. I hope you enjoyed your lunch."

"Yes, thank you," she replied. "I trust you have all the forms ready?"

"Yes, they're all here," I said, passing the folder over to her. Another marriage had self-destructed and I had been delegated to document its death as it spiraled its way through hell.

There were still a couple of months remaining before Carol's own divorce became official, so I hoped I'd be seeing, or at least hearing from her then but as time went by I began to doubt it.

That evening, I looked through the refrigerator for something to eat but found only a half-gallon of milk, some cottage cheese and a head of lettuce that was starting to wilt. I threw away the lettuce and poured myself some milk. It was sour.

How had my life come full circle to this? I knew I'd have to get myself together and chalk it up as another one of life's miserable lessons.

..... .....

I looked at the calendar that I had been counting the days on. Carol's divorce would become final tomorrow and what should have been a day of rejoicing was approaching with a whimper. I had not seen her in three months and began to wonder if she would ever come to talk to me or not. I didn't know if I wanted to see her or not, my feelings were so unsettled.

"Jimmy." The sound of her voice floated across the room, giving me a start. I had given up hope of ever seeing her again, knowing full well that she didn't have to even acknowledge the six months that had passed to make her divorce final and there she was, standing between two men who anxiously looked around the room.

"Carol..." I tried to say, suddenly at a loss for words.

"I just wanted to come by and say 'thank you' and 'goodbye.'"

"Goodbye? What do you mean, 'goodbye'?"

"Jimmy, I have to leave."

"On God's green earth, why?" I couldn't believe it. Here she was and now she was leaving me, again. What had I done to deserve such a cruel fate? I thought our time apart had been enough to break me of feeling sorry for myself but her arrival had brought it all back to me.

"Why did you leave me?" I had to know, even if it killed me. Why DID she leave me? It couldn't have been just because I asked her to marry me; that would be insane.

Her face reddened. "May I sit down?"

"Please do," I said and went to close the office door. I looked at her, wondering how bad it possibly could be. "Sure," I said, "if that's what you want to do."

"I don't want to do any of this but it's not fair to let you go on thinking... what you're thinking, when I'm never going to be able to marry you." She took a deep breath. She started to speak and then paused to take another breath and I wanted nothing more than to take her into my arms and hold her but I thought she might leave and I needed to hear what she wanted to say.

"The next morning, you know, after you asked me to marry you, I saw something very bad. I can't tell you what it was, just that it destroyed our lives together. The FBI..." I sat there while she continued to speak. "put me into protective custody and held me in what they call a safe house and now I've got to go into Witness Protection and I'll never be able to see you again. They wanted me to just disappear and be gone and then just write you a letter explaining what happened but I insisted on coming to see you... to say 'good-bye'."

I cursed under my breath. She started to cry. "I'm so sorry." Her voice became very soft and high, like a small child. I tried to imagine what terror she had undergone but couldn't. I wanted to comfort her but found myself unable to do anything. No matter what I did, it would seem not enough.

"I'm sorry. You have a life here and I can't be part of it. I love you too much to take all that away from you. I'm sorry."

"You had your turn, now it's mine. I love you."

She looked at me with a wistful look in her eyes.

"My point is nothing you've said has changed my feelings for you. Just because... I LOVE you."

"You'll get over it, you have to."

"That's crap and you know it."

All this time, she had been crying, the tears flowing down her cheeks. "It's over."

"What do you want to do now, Carol?"

"I have to leave. What we had has been the most intense, wonderful and exciting thing that's ever happened to me. You're the dearest man I've ever known and I thought that with you I could try this one more time. And, I do love you but I'm afraid I'm never going to be with anyone... after you."

"I can come with you," I said.

"No, you can't. They won't allow it and I can't do that to you."

"I know," I said, quietly, sadly, knowing it was over. The immediate sadness and fear when she had originally disappeared had tempered my feelings that last time I saw her but I was still crying. Our life together was stillborn and tumbled into a realm of possible futures that never came to pass.

I didn't know what else to say. I felt I would have been better off just wondering what had happened but then realized that would have ruined any future relationship I might have with someone else.

I had nothing to say left to say. What could have I said? I sat there, listening to her go on about things might have been different if we had more time or had been married.

She left while I was still sitting there, staring off into space. Her explanation made the situation only a little better for me. At least, according to her, it wasn't me, just a case of 'wrong place, wrong time.'

...... .....

Five months had somehow gone by and my aunt was once again getting angry with me. My lack of interest in anything had not spilled over into my work but, as she was wont to point out, had indeed spilled over my belt. Eating the wrong food and a couple of beers each evening had taken their toll on me and I was embarrassed to admit that I had really let myself go.

"Are you going to start taking better care of yourself or am I going to have to drag you around for your own good?"

I looked down at my shirt, its buttons straining against the fabric. Thank God, I thought, that it wasn't too bad; it was the same shirt size I had always worn. I hadn't fallen that far, just far enough for an important wake-up call.

"I've signed you up at the gym down the street," she said, "and you start tomorrow."

"Oh, all right," I said, realizing that resistance was futile, not that she looked like a member of the Borg.

..... .....

The next morning, I was at the gym at 7 am and after getting a tour of the facilities, started pedaling away on one of the stationary bikes. It didn't seem too bad until I realized I was winded and it had only been a little over fifteen minutes. Damn!

I stayed with the bike until a full thirty minutes had passed and then I shifted over to the treadmill. Eventually, I went into the sauna and sweated out my frustration with everything that had gone wrong in my life since Carol left me.

Five weeks later, with a change of diet and steady exercise, I lost seven pounds and two belt notches and I was not winded any longer. I'll admit, though, I missed my peanut M&Ms. 

By the end of the second month my speed on the treadmill had increased, to my great relief and I, for a few strange moments, considered entering a local 5K. I laughed, thinking what a joke that would be and kept laughing all the way up to the point where my signature was on the entry form at the gym's front desk. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

..... .....

That Saturday, while standing with all the others, I began to question whatever intelligence I still had left when the gun went off and I began to move down the street with the rest of them, reminding me of a stampeding herd of cattle running through town like in a cowboy movie.

I didn't break any records but then I didn't embarrass myself too much, either, coming in ahead of the soccer moms pushing their jogging strollers.

By the time I crossed the 'finish line', my feet were almost ready to quit and I sat down on the street curb, getting run over by a charging soccer mom pushing an expensive stroller. I looked up into the eyes of a very attractive woman with long flowing blonde hair that reached past her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she said, right after she crossed my foot with the back wheel. 'I didn't see you."

"That's all right," I said, "I'm used to that from women, I guess."

"Please, let me buy you a water or something."

"That's all right; I've got to get home."

"Wife?"

"No, turtle."

She bent over laughing and sat down on the curb next to me. "I'm sorry but that's so funny. Your first?"

"Turtle? Actually, yes."

"I meant, first race."

"That, too. My name's Jim."

"Hi, Jim, I'm Cecily but my friends call me Cee-Cee."

"Hi, Cee-Cee, glad to meet you." I glanced at her left hand. I don't know why I did it but I said, "Would you like to have lunch with me?"

"Well..." She shifted from one foot to the other.

"That's OK, I shouldn't have presumed, it's just that I didn't see a ring and all."

"I was going to say dinner would be better. I'm all sweaty and I don't have a sitter lined up."

"Great." I walked her over to her car and gave her my phone number. "I can meet you at the restaurant, if that makes you feel more comfortable."

"Oh, no, you can pick me up. I'll call with directions, say about four?"

"Great... uh, thanks." 

I almost got hit by a car; I had turned around and stepped into the traffic lane so fast. 

..... .....

I stayed as far away from the Charthouse as I could. It had lost its luster for me and I took Cee-Cee to the Warehouse in Marina del Rey. Its dark interior gave just the right amount of ambiance for a romantic evening and I was determined to take advantage of it.

As we walked in past the faux packing crates, I felt like a high school boy on his first date, which was almost what it was, anyway. Nervously, I tried to keep up a friendly banter until finally she put down her menu and asked, "You're really nervous, aren't you?"

"It shows, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Take it easy, I won't bite," she said, smiling.

After that, the evening went well. I told her about my law practice and the reason that I held my office hours in the café's dining room. I think she must have wondered why we were at the Warehouse instead of the café. She told me about being a widow, her husband having been killed in a car accident after returning from Afghanistan two years earlier. It had taken this long for her to decide to date again and I happened to be in the right place at the right time.

As I walked her back to her apartment, she gave me a kiss on the cheek and asked me to call her again. I promised to do so, very much.

I waited until lunch time the next day before I called. 

"Hello, stranger," she said.

"Cee-Cee, I had a wonderful time last night."

"Me, too. Thank you."

"Would you like to take in a movie or something?"

There was a silence on the phone and I wondered if she was looking for a polite way to brush me off when she said, "How about dinner at my apartment and we could watch a DVD."

"That would be wonderful." I went back to work, trying to make sense of another divorce mess that had dropped into my lap when the original lawyer had died from a heart attack. I looked down at my belt and smiled, knowing that if I did die, it wouldn't be from being overweight. 

Later, I went into the garage and use my drill to cut a new hole into my belt.

For the first time in a while, I slept well without the recurring dreams that had made me restless throughout the night.

..... .....

That afternoon, I stopped at See's to get a two-pound box of soft center chocolates and the florist next door to get a bouquet of yellow roses.

No matter how much she had tried to make me feel calm, I still had a little nervousness surrounding me as I rang her bell. That made me laugh, realizing how much I really would like to 'ring her bell.'

"Just a minute," I heard from inside the apartment and then the sound of footsteps just before the door opened. "Come in, Jim. Oh, thank you," she said as I gave her the candy and flowers. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Whatever you'd like is fine with me," I replied, not really knowing what her feelings about alcohol were or what she had in her cupboard.

"Would iced tea be all right?"

"That would be fine, thank you." I took the glass, squeezed the lemon and put in three teaspoons of sugar.

"You like it sweet," she remarked, watching me stir the sugar in the glass.

I thought for a moment a reply like 'just like you' but that sounded so inane that I was glad I was quiet.

We had roast beef, mashed potatoes, peas and a Marie Callender's pie that she had picked up from the grocery store. It had been a shame when the restaurants nearby had all closed. I loved their blueberry sour cream pie and we had worked on trying to copy the recipe for our own café.

"I picked up a few movies to choose from..." she said, pointing to a small stack of DVDs on the coffee table. "Why don't you look them over while on check on Mary?"

I walked over and went through them as she went to see how her child was sleeping. 'The Proposal' with Sandra Bullock, about an arranged marriage so she could stay in the US; 'Bright Star', the romantic telling of John Keat's love affair with Fanny Brawne, the inspiration for his writings but we settled on 'Love Happens', a romance about loss and new love.

By the time the film was over, I realized what Cee-Cee had been trying to tell me about life, love and the two of us. We kissed deeply when I left her that night and I felt better than I had in such a long time, I was surprised how life was changing for me.

..... .....

While I continued at the gym, I also found time to run with Cee-Cee every afternoon at the local park before dinner. After the first few times, I began to push the jogging stroller myself and bring little toys and other things for Mary. I felt bad for her husband, who through no fault of his own, had been destined to have another man love his wife and raise his daughter.

A month later, we were spending our Saturdays running along palm trees of the Strand in Venice Beach as early spring moved into Southern California. We stopped for hot dogs from a sidewalk vendor. Cee-Cee waited until I was looking and then made love to the hot dog in her mouth. I could feel myself blushing, the hot blood rushing to my face.

"I've finally got your attention, I see," she said, pushing the stroller with one hand while eating the dog with the other. "Tonight," she laughed.

I nodded my head in relief and gratitude? did that make sense? I wondered.

We spent the rest of the day walking around and stopped for a moment underneath the giant mural of Jim Morrison painted on the side of a building. The madness of the beach area was in direct contrast from the few remaining canals that gave the town its name. We were passed by a woman with wild orange hair leading a dog on too long a leash and the inevitable happened when they tangled up around a streetlight. Just to the side, the surf rolled in, carrying two surfers unafraid of the early chill of the California Current down from Alaska. Life was good.

For a while, our route took us past bus stops where wide-eyed girls stepped onto the warm pavement, glad to be away from the cold of the Midwest and East, unaware that even this Eden had its own snakes waiting for them.

We finally arrived back at the original canals and slowed to a walk past the shallow waterways. Cee-Cee fished her keys out of her pocket and we entered her apartment and while she put Mary down for a nap, I took a towel and wiped down my face and neck. I went to the refrigerator and got a bottle of water and drank half of it before I stopped.

Cee-Cee came back into the kitchen, her long blonde hair frizzed out from our run and hanging halfway down her back. Her running shirt was plastered against her skin and her breasts' nipples strained against the fabric as she breathed deeply, catching her breath as best she could. Cee-Cee took out her blender and threw a cutup banana and some yogurt, nutmeg and cinnamon into it along with some milk and made herself a smoothie. I stood there, drinking my water, watching as her breasts moved beneath her shirt, her nipples causing me to once again have an erection. I couldn't help it, I found her to be the most entrancing woman to come into my life since my disaster with Carol. Praying that nothing would destroy our relationship, I stood behind her, kissing her neck as she tried to drink. She giggled.

"Tonight, Jim... can't you wait?"

"No, not anymore. I've fallen in love with you." I tensed, wondering if I would end up with the same horrible response that ruined my life before.

"I love you, too," she said, "and I want you, now and forever."

Thank God, I thought.

..... .....

"I want you so much," she said, breathing hotly against my ear. She shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. I brushed my mouth along her jaw and then trailed hot, wet kisses down the side of her throat.

Cee-Cee dug her fingers into my shoulders as I dragged my tongue to the underside of her chin. Her body shook in response as I began to suck her skin, knowing I would leave marks.

She met me with an openmouthed kiss that tasted of a light sweetness that was all her own. I matched her, thrust for thrust, drawing her ever deeper into our kiss as my hands slipped beneath her dress, caressing, rubbing, teasing her in ways that left her trembling with an urgent need to make love with me.

I unbuttoned her dress and slipped it down past her shoulders and stared. For the first time, I completely saw her breasts, the tips of her breasts taut and proud and her cheeks burned as she appreciated what we were about to do.




Cafe Lawyer Ch. 02



Bending her slightly backward, I lowered my mouth to her breast, savoring first one breast and then the other. Her own fingers had moved down to my pants, feeling my erection behind my zipper and I could only utter a deep sound from my soul as she touched me.

I reclaimed her mouth. One kiss led to another, deeper, hotter, wilder. My hand skimmed down from the curve of her hip to the smoothness of her inner thighs and then, ever so slowly, it traveled upward to that ever so moist valley between her legs.

I could feel her inhale sharply at my touch. My fingers played there as my tongue played in her mouth; whimpering deep within her throat, she clung to me as she pushed against me, her hips brushing against my erection. I clutched her tighter and felt myself breaking out in a sweat.

She pulled her mouth away from mine to give a little cry out and then put my hand against her pussy, inviting me to enter.

Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as I deepened my touch, reaching farther inside.

"Love me, Jim," she said in a hoarse, almost pained plea as she gazed at me, her face flushed with anticipation.

I knew she was mine for the taking and I lifted her from the floor and laid her upon the bed. If she had refused me, I would have died. I needed her now, in the worst way, for myself and for us. I resolved to bring her to the brink of oblivion and then back off until she begged me to take her. I plunged again and again until my soul merged with hers.

..... .....

Mary slept the whole night through to my great relief. 

The next morning, with the sun coming through the windows of her apartment, Cee-Cee slipped out of bed and started breakfast. I felt it was time to start taking the two of them to the café for dinner, breakfast, even. 

Two eggs, some bacon and toast, a simple breakfast that had more heart than heartburn. I laughed at my own little joke but recognized the truth of it.

"Cee-Cee," I said, "I love you."

"I love you, too, honey, I love you, too."

I sat down and ate my breakfast while she went to get her daughter. 

..... .....

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of romantic evenings, client meetings and animated conversations trying to convince her to move in with me. 

..... .....

We were sitting in my back booth at the café, little Mary in a high chair chewing on a carrot stick, when Susan walked in, chased by one of the waitresses.

"I'm sorry, Jim," the girl said, "she snuck in past all of us."

"Don't worry about it," I replied. "What do you want, Susan? I thought I told you I didn't want to see you ever again." I was shocked at how she looked for she had completely changed.

Susan looked at the three of us eating what had been a quiet lunch. "Jimmy..." she started.

"I told you, you don't have the right to say that anymore." Ever since I discovered her affair, I had nothing but contempt for my ex-wife and had done my best to limit my exposure to her toxic presence. It had been more than a year since I had last seen her, a few weeks before I had executed her lover and his friends that night.

"Jimmy..."

I gave her an angry look but she kept speaking.

"I need help. I have no money except for ADC and a little welfare check. I'm living on handouts, Jimmy." She sat down and started to cry.

I wondered what had happened to the girl I had married five years earlier, a girl so bright with love and a future with me. Had I become so cold that her tears crashed against the cold stone of my once loving heart?

Cee-Cee looked at me and went to comfort Susan, putting her arm around the woman I had once loved with all my being and now felt... what? What did I feel?

I didn't know... just a profound emptiness.

Cee-Cee was holding her, the two of them slightly rocking back and forth, sharing a pain that only women can, mother to mother.

"Have you had something to eat?" Cee-Cee asked her, looking at me the whole time. 

"No, not since yesterday." Susan wiped away a tear.

That I could believe. My ex-wife looked almost emaciated, showing the signs of malnutrition that I only thought possible in third-world countries. The woman I had once loved was thin, her clothes hanging like rags from a scarecrow.

I got up and went to get her some food, starting with some chicken soup and followed by roast beef and mashed potatoes. Between wiping her tears away and the sound of her knife and fork on the plate, there was nothing but silence.

Eventually, Cee-Cee rose and taking me by the arm, led me away from the table. "You HAVE to do SOMETHING, Jim. If not for her, if not for me, then for yourself. It's one thing to..." She stopped talking.

She was right, in an unfortunate way. It was one thing to say 'I don't want to have anything to do with you,' to say 'I hate you,' but to stand by while the person you once loved more than life itself die was something I wasn't prepared to accept as part of my life. I had already killed two people because of her and almost killed a third but this was different, no matter how much I wanted to hurt her for what she had done to me.

Besides, I had Cee-Cee to think about. Would she want to live with a man who was that cold? I didn't think so and so my reasons for helping Susan were more self-serving than altruistic. For whatever reason, though, I couldn't stand by and let things move on the way they were.

I didn't want to lose Cee-Cee. But, what to do besides feeding Susan? I didn't know. If I gave her a job at the café, then I'd have to see her every day and I wasn't sure that I wanted to do that. 

"All right," I said, more to myself than either Cee-Cee or Susan. I called around to my friends, hoping to find her a job somewhere reasonably close but with the economy the way it was, there weren't any. Silently, I cursed the world for everything except Cee-Cee, little Mary and my aunt.

Several hours later, I finally decided to give her a job working in the café's coffee shop to limit my interaction with her. Maybe, if I had done this from the beginning, she would never have met him and destroyed our marriage. The world is full of 'what ifs'. What if Carol had stayed with me that day? What if Cee-Cee's husband had not gone out that morning? What if I had not decided to run that stupid 5K?

I gave her the dishwasher's job. She was in no condition to interact with customers and it would keep her away from me as much as possible. It was the best I could do, all things considered. I also arranged for her to eat as often as she needed. I didn't like it but realized there was really nothing I could do if I wanted to continue my relationship with Cee-Cee. Maybe someone else would have just told her to leave and lose Cee-Cee and what she brought to life but I didn't feel the trade-off was worth it.

..... .....

Several weeks had gone by and Susan was looking better. Not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but better. Her body had filled out some and now she just looked thin. I had made arrangements for her to take food back each evening to the apartment she had been sharing with a friend to take care of the baby. Once in a while, I even saw her give me a small smile when she forgot and saw me. While I didn't scowl, I just found myself unable to smile back and decided to stay out of the kitchen until she had left for the day.

"How long," Cee-Cee asked, "are you going to continue like this?"

"Like what?" I replied.

"Pretending she doesn't exist."

"I'm not..."

"Yes, you are."

"Look, I've done the best I can. I can't put her on the floor because that would mean taking money away from one of the other girls there. I can't have her in the back because I'm there and I can't have her work the register because I don't trust her enough."

Cee-Cee was quiet, having heard my objections to changing things from what they were.

"I..." she tried to say but then was quiet. "All right. I understand."

Thank God, I thought. For a while, I had nightmares of having both women living with me, each with a small child of her own, waking up in a cold sweat. Dreams are crazy things, foreshadowing what we want and what we fear.

..... .....

Cee-Cee, Mary and I had begun eating our daily meals at the café. Thanks to her husband's insurance and military benefits, she no longer had to work and began to help me with my law practice. It was good to be able to discuss things with her. You know... the little screwy things that pop up during lawsuits that only seem funny at the time.

..... .....

I had a simple personal injury case I was working on. The poor guy, also named Jim, had just picked up a brand new Chevy Malibu and was hit head-on by a woman looking toward the back seat to speak with her daughter. His car was totaled and he went to the hospital. His insurance was giving him the runaround, saying that the car had lost value because it had been driven off the lot. A letter from me changed all that, pointing out that it was the woman that hit him and a car with less than an hour on the clock and five miles would be considered new by any jury.

Two days later, he had a check for the entire amount of the car. I didn't even ask for anything except for a couple of bucks to cover the cost of mailing the letter. OK, so I was altruistic. Sue me.

..... .....

Cee-Cee moved toward the edge of the bed, feeling carefully along the floor with her bare feet. I wondered if her muscles ached with a delicious soreness as much as mine did. The memory of our lovemaking returned to me and I wondered why she was on the floor.

I lifted her off the floor and onto the bed. My mouth touched hers with persuasive insistence, tasting and probing until the kiss flowed. She kissed me back with a growing energy as my fingers worked the buttons of her nightgown, tugged at the cloth until I had stripped it completely off of her and then drew her to me with another kiss, deeper and slower.

The feel of her skin against mine was driving me insane as my hand slid smoothly down her leg to her calf and then back up against, coming to rest against her fine ass and then up the small of her back. I put my fingers into her silky hair and pulled her head back for another deep and probing kiss.

She gasped as my erection probed, entered and slowly pushed inside her. I waited just long enough before and then began to push and pull with renewed vigor.

"Oh, Jesus, don't you dare stop," she moaned in the dimness of the room. "You're driving me crazy."

I knew she could drive me crazy with moves of her own, moves that could drive all rational thought out of my mind.

"Who loves you?" I teased.

"No one," she answered, trying to squirm beneath me.

I gave her another smooth, hard thrust, my cock pushing in deeper, filling her. She couldn't stop her body from meeting my thrusts, and I braced myself on my knees and deepened the penetration. My rhythm quickened, my urgency grew until he thrust lifted her hips off the bed. In a groan of desperation, I lowered my body onto hers, my erection still throbbing inside her. I kissed her.

..... .....

Cee-Cee and I were sitting on the couch. Well, actually, I was sitting on the couch and she was laying, with her head near my lap, as we watched a football game on TV. I was lightly rubbing her forearm and felt my erection growing just inches from her face. Too say that I was embarrassed was an understatement and I tried to shift on the cushion a little so that I was more comfortable.

On the coffee table were the remains of a bar of Torrone, an Italian nougat candy that I had grown accustomed to during the Christmas holidays and an almost empty box of See's candy. 

Christmas was the only time of year that people at least tried to be nice to one another. We had been lucky enough to give everyone at the café a two hundred dollar bonus. I had relented somewhat and slipped an extra hundred into Susan's envelope. I still kept my distance, not really wishing to see her and although she had shared pictures of her daughter with most everyone, I never bothered to look. I had no ill will toward an innocent child but I still refused to have anything to do with either Susan or her child.

I reached for the Torrone and picked up the last small broken piece. I gestured at Cee-Cee, asking her if she wanted it but she shook her head 'no' so I popped it into my mouth and let the lemon-flavored nougat roll around my mouth.

I watched her lying there, so happy and moved my head closer to hers. I felt we were in some secret place, a quiet, closed darkness that surrounded us away from the rest of the world. Nothing else existed but we two. I could see the laughter in her eyes as she looked back. It seemed like she wanted to say something but couldn't.

I felt the hot rush of desire as I caressed her mouth with my lips, bringing a feverish need to the pit of my stomach. She angled her head slightly. The palm of my hand molded to the curve of her face as my thumb slid down to her chin and somehow eased her mouth open.

My tongue filled her mouth and I heard a sigh, a moan, the sound of her heart beating. My fingertips traced her skin and then I used both hands to cradle her face, resting my body lightly against hers. I could feel her breasts pushing against me. My tongue surged again and she closed her eyes as she slid her hands up my arms to my shoulders and held me tightly.

"James..." she whispered as I covered her mouth again with mine. She leaned back slightly, tilting her head so she could watch me. Her eyes weren't laughing anymore, they glowed.

"Cee..." I whispered back and then brought my arms around her. When I flattened my hands on her back, one by her waist and the other just below the nape of her neck, she closed her eyes and parted her lips, offering herself to me.

I slid my tongue between her teeth and deep inside. I would love her so wonderfully that she'd forget everything else. I would make her come so many times that the only thing more powerful would be a California earthquake.

Her tongue stirred to life against mine, her fingertips brushed the sides of my neck and her body moved closer into my embrace. I skimmed one hand up and down her back, to the slope of her waist, out to the flare of her hip. My other hand went to her hair, weaving through her curls. Her mouth opened wider.

I groaned. I could feel her against me, her body nestling against mine. I slid my leg between hers and she moved one of her legs, rubbing her knee against my thigh and I groaned again and moved my hand to her butt, moving her against the muscles in my own leg. I heard her moan.

She was hot but I was hotter. I nudged her skirt up with my knee, feeling her heat through the denim of my jeans and came close to losing it right there. My hands clenched, my pulse pounded and I realized that with Cee-Cee I was as crazy in love with her as I could be.

There was a cry. Mary had awakened and was calling.

..... .....

As much as I loved Cee-Cee, I debated whether I should ask her to marry me or not. My track record wasn't too good in that department, having been 0 for 2 so far.

..... .....

Cee-Cee was going through the mail, tossing envelopes into the trash as she went. "Entertainment offer... twenty dollars... trash. Chase checks... lot of good they are, cost you big interest payments if you use them... trash. Walthers' model train catalog, that's yours, here," she said, tossing the thin catalog to me. 

I took the catalog and thumbed through it, hoping to find something of interest. The promised Santa Fe El Capitan was late due to the slowdown in China's factory work and so everything became a waiting game. Oh, well, it had to come out sooner or later... or, maybe not. I was still waiting for the Southern Pacific Daylight from Broadway Limited and it had been four years already.

The Christmas tree was decorated with a mix of old handmade and some quaint souvenir decorations from my travels around the country and hidden behind one of the largest was a small blue box holding a two-carat diamond ring that I hoped to give to Cee-Cee. 

Would I, I wondered, break the curse that had somehow befallen me with the first two women in my life?

That night, after Mary had been put to sleep in the guest room, we sat down on the couch and turned on the television to watch the millionth showing of "It's a Wonderful Life." As many times as I've seen it and as many times as I promised myself that I wouldn't watch it ever again, I always ended up seeing it.

I had set the coffee table with a variety of small cakes and candies from the café and See's and had just poured three mugs of hot chocolate when my aunt stretched out her arms and making a grand gesture of saying how tired she was and kissing Cee-Cee and me 'goodnight', went to her room and closed the door.

"Well," said Cee-Cee, laughing, "that was nice of her."

"Yes, I guess it was." I sat down and put my arm around her, pulling her closer. I leaned over to kiss her, my hand running through her large dark curls flowing down her back. My lips touched hers and as my tongue slipped into her mouth, I could feel my pulse start to race the same way it always had done every time we kissed.

"Cee..." I started to say, putting my hand behind her neck and leaning closer.

"Shhh..." she said, kissing me again. "Don't talk, just kiss."

Later, lying on the couch, my head on her lap, I looked up and smiled. I felt it was time. I got up from the couch and went over to the tree and crouched down, looking at the small box hanging from the tree branch. "Look at this," I said, pointing out the box to her.

"What?" she asked, coming over to my side.

"There seems to be something hanging here, something with your name on it." I pulled it forward toward her. "Look."

Cee-Cee took the small box from the branch and pulled it toward her. She began to form a hopeful smile, as if knowing what was inside. She looked at me with that little girl smile that women have when they know they have what they want.

"Yes," she said, not even waiting to open the box containing the perfect diamond.

Thank God, I thought. 

That night, she took in a long, deep breath and after I put the ring on her finger, we checked on Mary and went to my room.

I put my hand over hers and tried to control the rush of heat that blazed through my body but there was no denying it. She instinctively reached a hand to my cheek. With her tenderness, I took a quick breath of my own. I looked down into her eyes and knew I had to kiss her; reaching out I drew her close and lowered my head, capturing her mouth with mine. In the space of a single heartbeat I drew her fully into it. It was impossible to move and I could feel the heat between us as we slipped deeper into the kiss.

I thought I had been prepared for this but as my mouth moved over hers, the sensations that ripped through me had me dragging her closer until her body was molding itself to mine. The ring made everything different, everything new.

I wanted to touch her everywhere, to lay claim to what I now considered truly mine and the simple movement of my hand along her back had me aching for more. The touch of her skin sent sparks dancing through me.

What a kiss. It took all my willpower to keep from ripping her clothes off right then and there. I held her closer, if that were possible and she cried out. Very gently, I took hold of her hands and lowered them before pressing my thumbs to her face, moving them in slow, sensual circles.

Her moans told me that she felt the sensation was one that she treasured and I could feel her heartbeat speed up as her entire body responded to my touch. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my face as I softly brushed my mouth over her face, her forehead, her nose. She closed her eyes and swayed toward me, offering her lips.

It seemed like an eternity before I lowered my mouth to hers again and when I did there was an explosion of color behind my closed eyes and I felt as if the whole room dipped and swayed from one side to the other and I held her to keep from falling to the floor. That ring and her acceptance had made all the difference in our relationship.




Cafe Lawyer Ch. 02



I took the kiss deeper and heard her sigh as she gave herself to it. My need for her was so sharp, so swift that it left me stunned and reeling. I was glad. She had her hands on me and she wanted more. With each kiss she took me higher; with each kiss she took me deeper.

"I want you... desperately," she said. I could feel her heart pounding. "I know what I want," she continued. "I want you."

"I've waited so long for this," I said. "I can't promise to be gentle, anymore. I've waited so long for you to be truly mine, to be my wife."

"I don't want you to be gentle, I just need you."

I said something, under my breath, scooped her up and whispered, "And I need you... now... this minute." I carried her to the bed and laid her down on the covers. I was fully aroused, my erection straining at my clothes. "I've been waiting all day, for this moment, for you to say yes."

She dug her fingers into my hair and poured herself into another deep kiss. "I couldn't wait to get my hands on you." I moved my hands upward to the soft swell of her breasts, my thumbs teasing and stroking. With each stroke, I could feel her breath catch in her throat. 

"I knew," she started to say, between pants, "how empty... my life has been... before you loved me. My entire life... has been empty."

I feasted on her lips, filling myself with the taste of her, hearing her little moan of pleasure as I put hot, wet kisses down the smooth column of her throat. She smelled soap-and-water clean... fresh as springtime... sexy as sin. I forced myself to go slowly, to savor every moment, no matter how hard it was going to be.

I kept my eyes steady on hers as I unbuttoned her blouse and slide it from her shoulders to reveal a bit of lace that barely covered her breasts. Skimming a finger between the cleft I parted her bra before tossing it aside and began brushing soft kisses across her shoulder and then lower to the swell of her breast.

Cee-Cee brought her arms around my waist and clung to me as her whole body began trembling with need. Her touch was driving me mad. She tore at my shirt, pulling it away, snapping the buttons off and when she reached for the belt at my waist, I helped her, kicking aside the rest of my clothes.

"I love it when you touch me, Cee-Cee. Touch me again," I whispered. I reached a hand to the waist of her panties and tugged them free in one quick motion, tossing them aside, before dragging her roughly against me, flesh to flesh.

My kisses weren't tender, my touches weren't gentle. I was completely out of control with her.

..... .....

Christmas morning came early enough and for the first time, we all went to church together at St. Joseph's. With the service in Spanish, though, I felt like my aunt had back in the day when Latin was still being used in church.

After church, I drove all four of us to the cemetery to leave flowers on my parents' graves. They were lost too early in my life to a car accident caused by a woman tired of living who hit them head-on. For a moment, it was if I was taking Cee-Cee and her daughter to meet the family and as she put flowers near the headstones, I wondered what my mother would have thought seeing me with a widow and her child.

I had no real way of knowing other than the knowledge that she would have wanted me to be happy in life and this was making me happy.

Although we would have made a good deal of money keeping the café open for Christmas breakfast, it seemed better to let everyone stay home with their families for the holiday and had given everyone prepared food to take home. We had already stocked the house refrigerator with food from the restaurant for both lunch and dinner and I had just purchased a new Monopoly game for us to play while Mary had a new doll, a Donald Duck video and other toys to play with.

Lunch was a traditional Italian feast... spaghetti with clam sauce, prosciutto, provolone, Genoa salami, cannoli pastries and orange sorbet... and plenty of See's and other treats to enjoy as the day went on.

I soon learned that Cee-Cee had her own method of cheating, offering me kisses for five hundred dollars each as she worked her way around the Monopoly board, gathering up one property after another until I was looking at bankruptcy seven different ways. I was able to stay in the game for another two hours by luckily going to jail and staying there. It was obvious that I was going to lose no matter what I did, giving money away like I was.

Leg of lamb was the main course for dinner and as my aunt brought it out from the kitchen, I could almost see my belt spread another notch from all the food that I had been eating during the day. Fortunately, I had gotten myself in reasonably good shape ever since I met Cee-Cee that it was all in my imagination.

While I was clearing the table and taking the dishes into the kitchen, I turned back in time to see my aunt and Cee-Cee hugging while they both looked at the ring I had given her. That final acceptance made my heart feel much better. 

..... .....

The day after Christmas brought back the world with all its mundane problems and needs. I hadn't taken on any new clients since the first week of December and had spent the last few days wondering about what changes the menu could withstand and still be profitable. For a few moments, I thought about giving Chef Ramsey a phone call and seeing if he had any ideas to offer. The café, though, was bringing in more money than I could hope for and I was seriously considering giving everyone a weekly cash bonus in lieu of a raise.

"I would like to help out more in the café," Cee-Cee said, sitting down next to me. "What do you think I would be good at?"

I wondered. "Hey, how about going to different places and getting ideas... you know, stealing ideas..." I laughed, wondering about the ethics involved in doing something like that. After all, Italian places all served spaghetti and pizza, right? So, why not?

"That would be a lot of fun," she said. She looked around the back room. "You know, I'd like to start with Disneyland."

"Disneyland?"

"Sure. You know their New Orleans Square restaurant? I forget the name but it's where the Pirates ride is. If we could redo this room like that, you know, make it like it's outdoors and such." She gave me a big smile.

"That's a great idea. You know what else? We could take a look at Caesar's in Vegas, that is, in case we want the dining room to open for lunch time and be sort of a daytime look. What do you think?" I knew what she'd think; she'd think it was a great idea.

Cee-Cee grabbed me around the neck, straddled my waist and began kissing me passionately. "Oh, baby, that would be wonderful."

"Just as long," I laughed, "as you never come up with some 'girls' night out stuff to Vegas' stuff." I might have been laughing but I was dead serious. 'Girls' night out', my ass.

"Those women are fools," Cee-Cee said. "If you really love someone, why would you want to 'dance' with someone else? You'll never have to worry about that with me."

That made me feel so much better. How many times had we heard about women using a 'girls' night out' opportunity to stray over the line, whether accidentally or on purpose? Besides, I thought the whole thing was just an excuse to go to the happiest place on earth.



Cafe Lawyer Ch. 03



Shuttlepilot with calibeachgirl

copyright 2012

all rights reserved

*

Looking for restaurant ideas, Cecily and I went to Disneyland, walked up Main Street and headed to New Orleans Square. After a short wait, we were sitting in the Blue Bayou Restaurant and I was amazed at the prices and seriously considered changing those of our café... at least, in the dining room for dinner.

She had the Bayou Surf & Turf... 'a sweet petite lobster tail from the Pacific Northwest, paired with an expertly broiled filet mignon, bearnaise sauce, with Blue Bayou potatoes and seasonal vegetables' for only $44.99. At least, that's what the menu said. What a deal!

Me? I had the Roasted Beef Strip Loin... 'seasoned with the chef's signature five-pepper blend, then slow roasted over rock salt and topped with Armagnac sauce and crispy hand battered onion rings, all with Blue Bayou potatoes and seasonal vegetables' for $37.99. 

My café's menu definitely was going to undergo some changes. While not skyrocketing the prices into the 'captive audience' level of Disneyland's, a few bucks here and there wouldn't drive anyone away and bring our bottom line up enough to continue giving weekly bonuses... or, at least, that's what our thinking was.

We pretended to take pictures of one another but were actually photographing the restaurant in all its glory. Heh, heh, I thought, just the thing. There were a couple of outdoor Italian eateries that were high on my list, also.

With the money that had come in from that one lawsuit, I had several million sitting in the bank and I figured this was at least as good an idea as any other. Construction could start in a week or two, as soon as we decided what we wanted the place to look like. I was thinking of an outdoor setting, like a patio or something, with a faux sky that changed from day to night depending on the time.

Once the pictures were taken, we settled into enjoying our highly-priced dinners. I had to admit, the food was pretty good but I knew that ours would be better.

The next morning, we went to three different department stores before we found the perfect china for the new dining room. The white porcelain plates had a double ring of silver around the edge and flowers in sort of a filigree pattern. The place settings were twenty-five dollars a place setting but I figured they'd be worth it in keeping with the new style we were trying to present. We made arrangements to have them delivered the next day.

It was lunch time and I really wanted to go to Marie Callender's for a Frisco burger and some pie. Imagine my surprise when the restaurant was closed. Somehow, I had missed all the hoopla surrounding the bankruptcy of the chain. Oh, that was a miserable feeling, you know, hoping for some sour cream blueberry pie and finding out that there wasn't going to be any. On the other hand, it left the door open, I thought, to try and recreate the pie ourselves. I knew what it tasted like; it was just a situation of trying to match it.

..... .....

"Wow! What a mess," said Cecily, seeing the brickwork and plaster going up on the walls and the dusty plastic sheeting along the floor as she picked her way through the scaffolding. The sky with its small hidden spotlights had been installed the week earlier and lived up to our expectations. After the walls were finished, we were going to install the artificial plants to give it that outdoor look.

"It'll be finished soon enough and then we'll be back open," I said, moving a reddish-brown recycled brick with my shoe.

"You know, this'll mean you can't do business in here anymore; otherwise, you'll have to limit your hours up to the start of lunch. You'll have to find somewhere else. Maybe you can add on an office, you know, in the back and go from there. I'd hate to think you couldn't help anyone, anymore."

..... .....

Several days later, the dining room was open for business and we had a full seating and reservations booked for the rest of the week. In keeping with the upscale image we wanted to project, the girls working the dining room wore tuxedo shirts and black skirts that looked so much better than the regular pink and green pastel diner outfits worn out front.

We had gone so far as to give the back room a separate entrance and it eased the cross traffic that used to jam up the front room.

"We're full up," said Cecily. "I'm so happy; this is really working out nicely."

"Good. This is going to be your baby." 

She threw her arms around me and kissed me. "Thank you, thank you, thank you..." I liked the feel of her in my arms, the press of her breasts against my chest, the warmth and the love.

I turned and saw Susan standing in the doorway, just watching and when she saw that I had noticed, she put her hand to her mouth and ran back into the kitchen area. "Damn," I muttered. Ever since the divorce, I had tried hard to avoid her and now here she was, intruding into what had been a private moment with my fiancée.

I remembered back to that first night we had kissed. I had walked her home after the dance at the school. She had been left high and dry by her date who preferred to spend his time with his team mates rather than dance with her. To this day, I still don't understand what he was thinking.

I took her up to the front door and somehow kissed her in the brightness of the porch light while her grandmother watched through the curtains. The next week, we were a couple and stayed together right until the acrimonious divorce that wrenched my heart from my soul and cast me into the pits of hell.

I never thought that she would be so easily swayed to cheat on me. Sometimes, it is more than just sex. I couldn't live with her betrayal and told her to leave.

I truly questioned my agreement with Cecily about giving Susan a job at the café, for she was supposed to be in the back where I didn't come into contact with her unless I really wanted to. I went from delirium to anger in just a split second. Why was she still able to anger me so much? Enough time should have passed that I would be over her betrayal and yet, I still fostered such resentment it was hurting me. How, I had asked myself, was it possible that she could claim to love me and then turn around and tell me that love no longer existed, that our marriage had been a mistake?

"What's the matter, honey?" asked Cecily, sensing my instantaneous change of mood.

I shook my head. "Nothing," I said, "don't worry about it, it's nothing." 

I reluctantly left her arms, went into my new office and booted up my computer to check my emails. There were several from friends that had moved away, one of whom had married a Chinese national and spent half his time in China and half in San Diego, and four from Snagajob, which for some reason thought I was looking for work.

Realizing that speaking with Susan would only make the situation worse and probably cause me to say something I would definitely regret later, I let it pass, hoping that it didn't happen again. After all, I felt I had given her a job when no one else would, especially after what she had done. Love is there in pain and sorrow and the deepest, darkest heartaches and I had given it all I could and realized it was over.

For a moment, I flashed back to her boyfriend lying in the parking lot, bleeding to death after I shot him. I was still amazed that the police and the district attorney let the whole matter drop. I guess he was a worse person than I thought.

"Cecily, I got a letter from my high school. There's going to be a reunion in three months and I'd like to go... with you."

I decided to go to the reunion and imagined what the reaction would be when I walked in with an ebony princess on my arm, especially since for the tenth reunion, I had attended with Susan. Even though I had graduated in the mid-90s, dating at my school had been strictly a 'whites only' world, especially after the King riots and Cecily had grown up in a rougher neighborhood.

..... .....

'Welcome back, Class of '95' said the banner stretched across the front of the ballroom at the Hilton, beckoning us inside. With Cecily on my arm, we slowly entered the room, surveying those already there and wondering who would still arrive. There was an entire wall of people in every direction and the smell of alcohol and smoke, legal and otherwise, was everywhere.

I turned to her and asked, "Are you sure this isn't some kind of fire hazard?" 

She grinned and shook her head as she took the lead and elbowed her way in, cutting a path for both of us. She raised her voice above the din. "They don't seem to mind too much."

There was a mellow mood filling the ballroom. "That's because," I said, 'they're feeling no pain."

"Follow me," she said, taking my hand she began to weave her way through the sea of bodies to the bar. Her voice was lost in the noise.

"What?" I asked.

"What's your pleasure?" she asked over her shoulder.

"You," I thought. Clearing my mind from the visions that danced through my head, I answered, "Rum and Coke."

She nodded. Her hair seemed to shimmy as it flowed around her shoulders. I stifled the need to thread my fingers through her curls and push them away from her face.

She was still holding my hand and I put the other into my pocket, keeping it there for safekeeping, knowing that if it was free it would probably end up on her butt. "Sounds simple enough."

Reaching the bar, she elbowed her way in and met with resistance. The man to her right wasn't moving. Tall and muscular, he was taking up more than his fair share and laughed when she tried to get him to move. 

Cecily frowned, annoyed. "Excuse me; would you give me a little room, please?"

The man gave a drunken grin down at her. "I'd rather leave just enough room for you, right here." He indicated the area between him and the bar.

I started to take a step forward but she waved me back. "Only if you want to sing soprano."

"A few minutes with me and I'll have you singing a different tune, little girl."

"The lady asked you to move," I said, my protective instincts moving me forward. "I suggest you do so."

The man's eyes swept over me, looking me over up and down. I didn't know what he was thinking, only that I wasn't going to back down. He drained his glass and set it down on the bar top with a slam. "Guess I'll have to leave, then."

I didn't look away. "Guess so."

The bartender put a glass down on the bar top. "Here's a free one, friend. Please, drink it over there." He watched until the man had walked far enough away and then wiped down the bar. "What'll it be?"

"Rum and Coke, please."

He reached under the bar and brought out the good stuff. "Here's one on the house."

"Of all the people here," I said, "the one I really want to see is the principal. He had straightened me out one long weekend and convinced me to stop wasting my life. He was the only person that gave me the push to succeed and my grades rose high enough that I got a scholarship to college based on his recommendation. He had been the one I confided in when my marriage ended and my life went to hell and he had kept me from becoming a losing drunk. I owe him my life and can't wait to introduce you to him."

"Jim Martin? Is that you?" No matter how old we become, our voices still tend to be the same. I turned around to meet a man I probably hadn't seen for more than ten years.

"Dave! Dave Crowder! How nice to see you. How are you doing?"

Crowder stood there in his Air Force uniform. I knew that he had gone into the ROTC program during college and became a dentist with the Air Force. That he was still in the service, though, surprised me. On his arm was a pleasant looking woman in her late 30s.

"This is, uh, my wife, Doris," he said, nodding toward her.

"This is my fiancé, Cecily Baker." The two women shook hands, Doris' eyes opening wide when she saw the engagement ring. I don't know what surprised her more, the size of the ring or the fact that Cecily was black. I didn't care. I didn't like Crowder that much, anyway. He was one of those guys who, after you'd shaken hands with him, you counted your fingers to make sure they all came back.

"So," he said, "what are you doing now?"

"We work in a restaurant," Cecily answered, smiling. I took a sip of my rum and Coke, letting her carry the ball.

"Oh, how, uh, nice. Nice to see you." And with that, they walked away. I guess the idea of two lowly people working in a restaurant talking to you wasn't worthy of your attention.

Of course, Cecily neglected to tell him that I owned the restaurant, now one of the most popular in the area. I laughed, watching the two of them disappearing into another crowd of now balding, out of shape ex-jocks and their slightly to mostly overweight wives. "Gee, babe, I guess we weren't that interesting." 

I turned my head and saw the principal. "C'mon, honey, there's Mr. Crowell and his wife. I've got to introduce you to them."

Practically dragging her by the hand, I led her across the ballroom to the man, now in his late 50s, standing by his wife. He seemed to have lost some of his hair but otherwise looked in good shape; he had had open-heart surgery a few years back and she had cut her once long and beautiful hair short. Why women of a certain age cut their hair short was always a mystery to me but what really caught my attention was the mile-wide smile across her face. A happier woman, other than Cecily, I had never seen.

"Mr. Crowell, good to see you, sir; this is my fiancé, Cecily Baker."

"It's good to see you, Cecily; Jim... you're a lucky man, is she as nice as she is beautiful?"

"Please, call me Cee-Cee," she said, extending her hand.

"Thank you, Cee-Cee." Martine stood there, in sharp contrast to his business suit, wearing a western-themed dress with silver collar clips and buttons.

"I see that our, uh, discussion helped you out." He smiled at took a sip of his soda. I had never seen him drink alcohol. I don' think he had anything against alcohol; I think it was that he didn't want to do anything stupid in public. "Yes, sir, eventually it all worked out."

"So, what are you doing now?" he asked, a huge grin still on his face. Except when I told him my marriage was over, I had always seen him smiling.

"We're going to be married, soon. I'm still a lawyer and still own the restaurant 'Cosette's' and..."

"That's wonderful. I hope that you have a wonderful, happy life together. I've heard wonderful things about your restaurant. You recently had a re-opening, didn't you?" Martine asked.

"Yes, ma'am, we did. Any time you want to come, any time, please be our guests."

"Thank you... and how's the law practice?" She put her hand on my arm, once again acting like the mother I had lost so early in my life.

"It's all right. I've done a good amount of pro-bono work lately. I've been lucky enough that I have the time for it."

"That's great. We'd love to come see your new place." He shook my hand and patted my shoulder.

"Thank you, sir. Call anytime for a reservation. It's been wonderful seeing you again... Mrs. Crowell." Cecily and I walked away. 

We finally shared a table with Richard "Flash" Gordon and his wife, a short, slim woman who smiled a lot and laughed at everything. Rounding out the small group was Mary Smithson, still looking as wonderful as she did as a cheerleader, and her husband, a nice fellow who was into marketing.

We spent the rest of the evening dancing, drinking, actually enjoying dinner and talking about teachers, football games and the prom at Catalina.

"I feel so much better, now," I said as we were driving home. "About Susan," I started to say.

"Yes?"

"Never mind." I really didn't know what to do about my ex-wife except make sure that she stayed in the kitchen washing the dishes. How to go about that, though, was still eluding me without it descending into a shouting match, complete with tears, and of course, I would be the bad guy.

I tried to sleep that night but was caught in that miserable state, you know, too tired to stay away and too tired to sleep. I stared at the dark ceiling, watching a brightness move across it every now and then when a car drove by.

..... .....

The new dining room was a continued success and we had a very nice review in the newspaper. Reservations were booked three weeks in advance. We had to set up an email account to remind people and in the first two weeks, only had two no-shows.

Cecily bought herself four new gowns to wear as hostess. Saturday nights, we removed two tables and brought in a grand piano. It became so popular that we made it a nightly event.

..... .....

Two weeks later, I once again came in contact with Susan. She was finally looking healthy, her body had once again regained its femininity and there was a good color to her face. For the last month, I had been giving everyone a hundred dollar cash bonus each week. For her, I always added an extra fifty dollars, not so much for her but, as Cecily said, for myself.

"Hello, Jim."

"Susan," I said, nodding my head.

"I haven't really had a chance to thank you for what you've done for me. I truly appreciate it. I know you didn't have to do it."

"Yes... well, consider it for old time's sake. I've, uh, got to go." I turned to leave.

She sighed and lowered her eyes. "Jim? I'm sorry. I don't have an answer for you."

I stared at her for a moment, surprised at her honesty, realizing it was the first time she had ever apologized for destroying what I had thought was the future. I remembered that night when she had told me she didn't want me or our marriage anymore and left to be with him.

With time, I had learned to tell myself that it wasn't my fault that she stopped loving me; that it wasn't some lack in me that had caused her to love someone else; that these things happened; that they were an everyday occurrence and not something that made me a failure in the most basic of relationships. So, she had listened to someone else, been fooled by someone else and stopped loving me and I had been hurt, badly hurt. Life goes on.

I looked at Susan. "Stop torturing yourself."

She nodded her head. "Thank you," she whispered and left.

I still resolved to keep my distance from her. My open affection for Cecily must be hard for her to witness every day. Could I forgive her? That was the only way I could free myself of her. I wanted to go forward without regret, to wake up each morning and not have the pain of the past influence my every thought, my every decision.

My feelings for her had finally reached the point where it no longer mattered, although I didn't want to deal with her on a daily basis. I couldn't see a situation where we would ever be friends, let alone on friendly terms. But, I didn't hate her, anymore. She just... was.

With Cecily working full time at the café, Mary had to be put into day care until my aunt could pick her up for the evening. I knew it wasn't the best solution but there was nothing else we could do, given the circumstances.

..... .....

"Cee-Cee, let's get married," I said, hugging her to me.

"We're going to, silly." She kissed me back.

"No, I mean now or at least as soon as possible. I want to say, 'this is my wife.' I don't want to wait any longer."

She looked at me, possibly surprised. Even though we were engaged, we had never set a date and had settled into an easy 'we'll get to it when we get to it.' I didn't want that, any more.

"All right," Cecily said, a look of amusement on her face. Let me call Reverend Johnston and set something up."

With the Church still holding its antiquated attitude toward remarriage, a Catholic ceremony was out of the question and since she was Baptist, we would be married in her church. It was all right with me. Enough bad things had happened in my life that I was ambivalent toward one church or the other except for those morons in the Middle East.




Cafe Lawyer Ch. 03



Cecily put down the phone. "Reverend Johnston says we can get married this coming Saturday if we have all the paperwork finished."

"That's great."

The rest of the week was a whirlwind of activity getting ready for the wedding. I felt guilty springing it on her so quickly. After all, a wedding is special to a woman and I was taking away the most fun part: the planning.

We'd use the café's dining room for the reception in the morning and it could still be ready for that night's service. Almost all of my friends worked for me in the restaurant and hers had slowly disappeared after her husband had died. I decided her situation was worse than mine. To have your friends leave because you weren't a couple anymore had to be disheartening, especially after you became a widow and needed more support than ever before.

..... .....

The ceremony was much simpler than a Catholic one and we were married quickly, pledging our devotion once again. One of the few times I ever had, I prayed that this time everything would be all right.

The reception went as much as expected... a lot of handshaking and backslapping and kissing and hugging. Although everyone at the café had been invited, it wasn't until we were driving away for our weeklong honeymoon that I realized I hadn't seen Susan. It was then obvious that she had stayed away.

We spent that night at the Radisson in Manhattan Beach. I felt the seconds pass with agonizing slowness as we waited to reach the room. My hands finally slipped around her waist, my head bent toward her uplifted face. The desire in her eyes was intense and then she closed her eyes. Her lips were soft, her kiss impossibly gentle at first. My hands slid lightly around her back and she pressed closer to me. I felt her body tease me.

Light-headed with the realization that she was now my wife, I felt emboldened by the power that she had given me. Cecily twined her hands through my hair and drew my head down, deepening our kiss. I don't know how long it went on, it just was. I knew I wished it would never end. She was all I wanted in the entire world.

"You're smiling," she said.

"I haven't stopped smiling since you said you'd marry me."

"You're such a romantic."

I ran a finger down her cheek and said, "I love you," and then kissed her slowly, exploring her mouth, tasting the essence of her and then she kissed my neck with little kisses.

The bed was highlighted in the afternoon sunlight, a huge pale rectangle in the middle of the room. I wanted to say something to her, to tell her how I felt about her, so I stood there, trying to find words that meant more than just "I love you."

But the feel of her in my arms had reduced me to a silent fool, for I couldn't find the words no matter how hard I tried.

"What are you waiting for?" Cecily asked softly. I could see the smile on her lips as she looked at me and before I knew it, I was sitting on the bed, cradling her in my arms and the kisses were becoming more and more urgent. I heard a moan of desire and didn't know if it was me or her and I didn't care.

Slowly, she unbuttoned my shirt and peeled it off and somehow, her wedding dress was gone and we embraced, skin against skin and my heart beat wildly at the feel of her hand against my chest.

I slipped my hand down to the waistband of her panties and pulled them down over her hips, over her feet where they landed on top of our clothes. She laid her head back on the pillow and I took a moment to admire her, delighting in her curves, anticipating making love to her as my wife.

Her arms reached out to me and I settled down between her beckoning legs. I could feel the moist warmth against me and I sent one finger there, causing her to gasp.

"No fingers," she said, "just you. Do it, I've been waiting all day."

I slipped inside, overwhelmed by the feeling. It was different, this time. It was truly mine. She was my wife. I felt myself grow even harder, if that was possible and I began to rock deeper before slowly pulling back until I was just inside.

"Jesus," she insisted, "you're driving me crazy. Will you please just fuck me?"

I must admit I cheated, taking a Viagra earlier as we left the reception. I was determined to do the best for a wedding night only comes... well, it should only come once.

I pushed down inside once more and then set up a rhythm that she soon matched, lifting herself from the bed and pushing against me as I reached as deeply as I could. I felt like I could last forever and I admit I looked at the nightstand clock. It was a good ten minutes, she had already gasped and moaned and came three times hard enough that I could feel it through our wildly moving bodies and I finally came, flooding her. I was almost breathing hard, a slight sheen of perspiration covering both of us.

Her arms encircled me, trapping my body to hers.

"Wow!" She grinned. "That was something. Oh, my God, you're ready to go again, aren't you?"

Early the next morning, we left for San Diego. I had thought about going to Hawaii or San Francisco but decided the trip would take too long. Besides, San Diego was a wonderful place for lovers to spend a honeymoon.

..... .....

Of course, the first day in San Diego was spent in bed and with room service there wasn't much reason to leave. In Balboa Park, there is a huge model railroad, the San Diego Model Museum and I wanted to show it to Cecily for some time now.

The next day we went in the morning to see the trains. Fortunately, there wasn't much of a crowd the day we went and so we were able to watch the small trains working their way around the scenery. That afternoon, we went to the zoo and spent the rest of the day wandering around the exhibits. I felt like I was fifteen on my first date and kept looking at her face, searching for that smile I knew was just for me.

The several days following, we spent the day doing tourist things, going to restaurants in the Gaslamp neighborhood and shopping at Horton Plaza. Each evening was spent enjoying ourselves as only lovers could.

..... .....

Over the next month, I met with three women all seeking divorces from their philandering husbands. They were all pretty straight forward cases; in one case, they had nothing to split so it was a simple matter; another, there would be child support and maintenance until she finished college; the last one, the wife of twelve years found him with his gay lover.

In the first one, I convinced the husband to just sign the papers and send them back. He had nothing to gain by fighting the petition and everything to gain by settling.

In the second, a DNA test was demanded and proven and that one was settled soon enough, also. Evidently, dark hair DID run in his family.

The third case was evolved into a screaming, hate-filled divorce and although I tried to convince her to just split everything down the middle, being in a no-fault state, she was out for blood. So, I got out my legal knives and proceeded to sharpen them. 

The threat to expose him finally convinced the husband to settle in a much more favorable result for my client: she got the house and most of the assets in return for no alimony and silence.

..........

Two months later, I realized that Juan had been avoiding our usual friendly banter and when we did meet, his eyes were downcast as if he were hiding something and felt guilty about it. I wondered what was going on and decided to keep a better on the finances and supplies. I hated to think that Juan, after all that he had done for me during the shooting, was stealing from me.

A few weeks after that, I was walking out into the parking lot and was surprised to see Juan and Susan standing in the shadows of the building. They were speaking softly enough that I couldn't hear what they had to say but I was surprised when Juan leaned over and taking her into his arms, kissed her passionately.

Well, surprised wasn't enough to express my feelings. I was shocked but then thought about it. Since coming to work at the café, she had regained her health and figure. Susan had once been an attractive woman and was now once again, even if I had not been around to notice.

I wondered what would be the result of it but two days later, there was a knock on my office door and as I looked up, I could see Juan standing there looking quite embarrassed.

"Juan, what's up?" I asked.

"I would like to speak with you... a personal matter. I, uh..."

Ever since Juan had helped me with the shooting, I had tried my best to help him out as much as possible and knew what he was going to say.

"Sure, Juan, have a seat. What's on your mind?"

"I'm... I've been seeing your ex-wife. I know there's something that happened before I came here... I don't know what it was and I don't want to know. That's your business. But, I wanted you to know, you know, just in case..."

"Well, thanks for the heads up. If it makes you happy, then go ahead, just... nothing, forget it. If it makes you happy, good for you." I shook his hand and patted him on the back. As strange as it seemed, it sort of made sense. Most of their time at work, they were together. He was a good person and what she needed if she was going to continue turning her life around.

Juan went into the kitchen and I tried to return to my paperwork on a case that was going to court in three days. I hoped Susan had learned her lesson in life and would be faithful to Juan. I didn't want to see him get hurt. 

A month later, they had a civil ceremony and I gave them $500 as a wedding gift. I hoped that everything would work out for them. I had gotten over my anger and sadness when it came to Susan. Would I have if it weren't for Cecily? I don't know, maybe, maybe not.

.........

The dining room was a huge success, actually bringing in more revenue than my law practice, especially since I had been doing so many 'pro-bono' cases for the women's shelter several blocks away.

It reached a point where Cecily moved the hardest working girl from the front café to the back and that left a space open for a new waitress.

"Jim? I'd like to ask you something and you may not like it but I'd like to try it anyway."

"What, baby? I told you the dining room was yours to run."

"I'd like to move Susan into the café as a waitress. She and Juan could use the extra money the tips would bring in." She shifted from one foot to the other, nervously wondering what I would say, I guess. "I'll let you think about it." She left me to my thoughts.

God! I hated it when women did that to me. They ask you a question, knowing full well it was a case of 'damned if you do... damned if you don't.'

What had I to lose? I never spent any time in the café, anyway so it would be a situation where I wouldn't really see her... and then, I realized I was letting events push me around rather than taking my life into my own hands.

My love for Susan had turned into an intense hatred that slowly burned itself out thanks to Cecily's love for me and the knowledge that the fault lay with her and not me. I was married and had a little girl to love and a successful business. Did it really matter? I mean, did it really?

So Susan became a waitress... and was quite good at it after a rough first couple of days. Juan thanked me one afternoon as they were leaving to go home. I nodded my head in acknowledgement. For his sake, I really, really hoped she had learned her lesson.

Cecily asked me if I want to have a baby.

Life goes on.