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Love in the Cross Hairs

By: carvohi



Forward: 

This story is more than one chapter. If you're looking for something pornographic you might be disappointed,but of you're looking for a love story this might be it. Regardless, if you get to the end of this chapter I'd like a comment. 


Prologue:

Two people are alive and at work in one of America's larger eastern cities; one had been a rising star in the construction industry. He built everything from private homes to office buildings; he had all the things that money could buy, but then life threw him a low curve ball. The other was a lack luster lonely almost thirty something office employee looking for someone, anyone, to fulfill her fantasies of a happy life filled with all the things a younger girl once dreamed of. 

As the story develops these two incomplete souls find each other, their lives entwine, affections grow, their ideas of happiness are pretty congruent, but families and life's unexpected pitfalls intervene, happiness and contentment are smashed on the harsh rocks of unexpected discovery. Then again, maybe not.

++++++++++++

Peter Dawson was thirty-two, a businessman, and lucky. He'd had a construction company that had been building all sorts of things since the early 1990's. Back in the day business had been so good he'd been able to buy large tracts of farmland and subdivide it years before he was ready to build. He'd built high rise, eight stories, condominiums and luxury apartments. He owned an ocean front house, a forty foot cabin cruiser, an expensive sports car, a time share in the Bahamas, and an apartment in the Big Apple. But then came the 2008 crash, the big housing bubble burst. He had to say good bye to the time share, all but a tiny handful of the lots, the New York apartment, the ritzy sports car, and the boat. Thankfully he'd held on to two of the apartment buildings and the seashore condo never having leveraged them.

There had been other losses he really regretted. He'd had a good core of hardworking employees; some American, some illegal. But his biggest loss was his fiancé. He thought he'd found the girl, just the right girl he believed he could spend the rest of his life with. Brother had that turned out wrong. She just wasn't the one; she turned out to be just the right girl for what had once been a good friend. His girl, his sweetheart, had been sweet on his friend all along. When the bubble burst, and he nearly went belly up, she went bye bye. His friend, being a lawyer, never blinked an eye when the cards came tumbling down. His girl, the faithless whore, simply followed the money.

He swore, never again would he go so far in debt, and never again would he trust a woman. Nothing with a vagina would ever get so close to him again. If he wanted what a woman had; he'd buy it.

++++++++++++

Then there was Laurie Stanton; Laurie was everybody's helpful little girl Friday. She worked as a software consultant for a medium sized law firm downtown. She was twenty-nine, alone, and lonely. She'd had her share of boyfriends, one anyway, to whom she almost surrendered her cherry several years earlier. Since then her life had been scripted to follow the same monotonous cycle; work, home, sleep, work, home, sleep, and parents and siblings for the holidays. There had been a time when she thought she'd find her piece of the American dream; the nice house on the quiet street with the husband, and the kids. She thought about it still; but she knew she was running out of time. 



 'On a Wal-Mart Parking Lot'

Laurie was exhausted, another week, another five days plus long hours of overtime for which she was never paid. It was Friday, 8:00 p.m., and she was loaded down with groceries. Groceries, what a joke, two weeks' worth of frozen dinners, microwave bacon, orange juices, granola bars, skim milk, coffee, and one small bag of salt free potato chips. She was so tired she wanted to cry. 

It was September, shortly after Labor Day, the evening air was cool, no sun, god what she'd give for a few days in the sun, anything but that horrid computer screen. She pushed her cart up the softly sloping ramp toward her parked car. Great car, a 1998 Toyota Camry, bald tires, bad brakes, and a compact disc player that wouldn't work. 

Oh sweet Jesus, let her get home, a hot bath, her novel, and a good night's rest. Tomorrow she had to play happy aunt and babysit for her sickeningly sweet sister. The one who always had the same line, "Oh Laurie you should find a boy and get married. You'd make such a good mother, blah, blah, blah."

She pivoted the cart to start up the incline that led to her car when her cell phone went off. 'Oh no, she thought, it was probably somebody who wanted her to watch or take care of somebody.' She stopped, leaned the cart against her leg, shuffled around in her purse, found her cell phone and flipped it open, "Hello." 

From out of nowhere a really mean looking big guy ran up, grabbed her purse, and took off.

Surprised and scared Laurie jumped back out of the way. As she jumped the cart loaded with her food toppled over. 

She fell back against a dirty mini-van; purse gone, wallet gone, car keys gone, food strewn all over the ground, and someone she immediately recognized as her boss impatiently yelling at her on the cell phone. It was too much. She cradled the phone in her arms and started to quietly weep.

Peter saw the creep slam into the woman. She meant nothing to him, but he hated that shit. He dropped the bag he was carrying and sped off after the thief. He could tell the thief was slow witted, overweight, and out of shape. He ran straight up the center drive of the parking lot. Peter ran him down, got him in a horse collar, and brought him to the ground. Then he punched the guy right in the nose.

An off duty policeman appeared. He grabbed the thief and threw him around a little more. 

Peter took the woman's purse and looked around till he saw her. She was standing where the thief had left her. She was still weeping or something. 'Women,' Peter thought, the smart ones are stupid. He walked down to the woman, purse in hand.

When he reached her he said, "That wasn't too smart, leaving your purse to hang on you wrist while you got your phone."

By then Laurie had started to pick up her purchases and stuff them back in the cart. She took her purse, "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done...if..." She started sniffling.

One of the store assistant managers reached the scene, "Can we help you ma'am?"

"No I'm all right."

Peter looked at the paunchy assistant manager, "Sure you can. Go inside and replace everything she's got with new stuff. Look at her, she can't take this garbage home and try to eat it, not now."

The assistant smiled, "Sure. Ma'am, let me replace all this."

Laurie gave the man a wan smile, "No I'm all right."

Peter interrupted, he was a little softer; "Why don't you let him replace this stuff?"

She whimpered a little, "No, I'm all right, really."

A patrol car pulled over. They had the thief in the back, handcuffed, and ready to be taken to the county jail. A patrolman walked over, "I'd like to get some information if you wouldn't mind."

Peter answered, "Sure I saw it all. That creep tried to steal her purse."

The patrolman took Peter's name and address. Then he took some information from Laurie, "He'll be charged of course, there will be an arraignment. You'll have to be there Miss." He looked at Peter, "All we need from you is a statement. You can e-mail it or send by the regular mail. Here's the case number. He handed Peter a slip of paper. "Of course, if the guy wants a trial you'll have to appear."

Peter answered, "No problem."

The patrolman looked at Laurie, "I see you're Laurie Stanton. You live at 113B Maple Grove Road."

She answered, "Yes sir."

Peter looked up, "Hey that's in one of my apartment complexes. Look I'll follow you home."

Laurie answered, "You don't have to do that."

"Sure," he answered, "It's the least I can do."

"No, I'm all right."

Peter had the woman figured out, just another snooty, phony, 'so called' liberated woman who broke down at the first crisis, "OK, well see you around."

She sniffed, "Thank you. What's your name?"

"Peter, but don't bother. You needed help."

Laurie thought about it for a second. He'd helped her. He didn't have to do it. She ought to do something, "Can I pay you or something?"

Peter grimaced. Just what he figured; they're all the same, "No thanks just the same."

Oh she realized he might have thought she meant money, "No, I mean maybe I could fix you dinner or something, maybe a movie?"

He looked at her again, "Tell you what; give me your phone number, maybe I could take you out."

Laurie knew he was blowing her off. She wasn't pretty, but she could cook, "OK." She took out a scrap of paper and jotted down her home and cell phone numbers, "I'm home all the time. You call and dinner's on the table." She tried to smile, but she knew it didn't work.

Peter took the phone number, smiled and walked to his car. Tomorrow was a Saturday, but he still needed to work. Playing catch up wasn't fun.

Laurie thanked him again, finished loading her car, and drove home. She felt achy and sore, maybe from when the thief pushed her. Oh heck she thought, she had to call her supervisor back. He wanted something.

When Laurie got home she called her boss back. He said he wanted her to come in the next morning to help finish up a problem. She explained why she hadn't been able to talk earlier. He said he understood, but still wanted her to come in. She said she'd try. 

Nothing much came of the incident. Peter went home, got to bed, and went off to work that Saturday. Laurie went in too. She was tired and sore, but duty called.

  'A Turn of Events'

Long about Wednesday Peter got a visit. It was a sheriff. The thief he'd stopped had hired a lawyer. Peter had punched him in the nose, and now the thief wanted restitution. It figured he thought; no good deed goes unpunished. He didn't know what to do exactly. He was a little afraid the thief, with a good lawyer, might be able to make it tough for him. He didn't think any of his insurances would cover something like this. He was a little surprised the police hadn't picked him for battery. He didn't know what to do. He had no witnesses other than the assistant manager and an off duty cop. He didn't think either of them really saw anything. Then he thought about the girl. She might have seen something. He rummaged around in his coat pockets. Damn, he'd thrown the scrap of paper away. But wait a minute. She'd told him where she lived. She lived in one his apartment buildings. He could drive over, check the mailboxes and look for her name. What was it? Laurie, Laurie something; that was the best he could do. 

After work he hopped in his truck and drove down to the apartments. He looked the mailboxes over, and sure enough there was a Laurie, Laurie Stanton big as day. He went up the steps and knocked on the door. There wasn't any answer. No one was home. He checked his watch. Four thirty. She probably didn't get home till later. He went back downstairs, hopped in his truck and waited.

Laurie, like always, had to work late. It seemed nowadays, more than ever two people were asked to do the work of three. She was sick of it, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. Bone tired, exhausted, she drove home. Her Toyota clunker bounced along with the rest of the traffic till she reached her cut off, drove down the off ramp, hit the four lane suburban roadway that took her home. She thought there must be fifty red lights in the five miles from the Interstate to her apartment. At last she was home. She pulled in, found a parking spot, got out and walked up the sidewalk.

Peter recognized the car, but not the driver. Of course it had been dark on the Wal-Mart lot, but this woman still looked a lot different. He didn't remember the dark red wavy hair, the trim little figure, or the tight little ass. The girl he watched leave the Camry was a real cutie pie. She was gorgeous! How could he have overlooked that?

Once he saw she'd gotten inside he got out of his pick-up, crossed the lot, and followed her in. She had a third floor apartment in an eight story building; the worst possible level, she heard and felt all the noise from both above and below. 

He went straight to her door and knocked. He waited and knocked again. At last he heard someone on the other side and instinctively sensed someone was peering through the peak hole. The door was opened, but she'd kept the safety chain on.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"Yes, hello is this Laurie Stanton?"

"It might be; who wants to know?"

"Hi, I'm Peter Dawson; remember me? I'm the guy who got your pocketbook back for you the other night."

"Oh sure, wait a minute." She closed the door, unfastened the safety chain, and opened the door all the way, "Hi, how can I help you?"

He stood just outside the door, "I'm sorry to bother you. By the way, are you all right? I mean did you get your food put away, and I mean, nothing was too damaged and all?"

"No it was all fine. What do you need?"

"I'm sorry. You remember the guy I caught? Well he's hired a lawyer, and wants to sue me."

"Oh."

"Yes. Can I come in for a minute? I think I might need your help."

"Oh sure, I'm sorry," She opened the door and stepped back, "I just got home. Want me to put on a pot of coffee or something?"

Inside he got an even better chance to appraise her. She was really pretty. She was small, maybe five foot two, thick reddish hair that was down now, but he could tell it had been up in a bun not more than a few minutes earlier. She had really liquid looking violet eyes, long lashes that curled way up, a cute little turned up nose, pink cheeks, and, for want of a better word, an adorable chin. He realized he was staring, "Sorry, but you look different from the other night."

She felt uneasy, "Would you like to sit. I'll put on that coffee." She stepped back and pointed to an older, but comfortable looking love seat.

"Thank you," Peter walked to the love seat and sat stiffly on the edge.

"I'll be just a minute," she went back to the kitchen.

He looked around. The place looked smaller from the inside. It was clean. The furniture looked old, well used, but very clean and tidy. There weren't any ash trays. She had a small old fashioned television in the corner. There was one other chair, a coffee table, and an end table. Everything was covered with doilies. There were several little nick knacks, nothing special, just a few little things, a ceramic dog, a snow globe, a couple candle stick holders, and some pictures. He liked it. It looked homey, comfortable, just maybe a little forlorn.

He didn't have to wait long. She was back with a small tray with two coffee cups, a tiny milk carton, and some sugar cubes sitting on a napkin, "Sorry for the set up. I don't have any of the special stuff."

He smiled and took an offered cup, "That's all right. I don't either."

She sat on the extreme opposite end of the love seat, "Now what's happened?"

"I'm sorry to be a bother, but the purse snatcher has hired a lawyer. I think he wants to get something out of what happened. You remember I punched him. Well I have a small business, and I think he found out and wants to sue me. I'm not sure I'm insured for this. He could cut me up. Maybe you can help?"

Laurie poured a small amount of milk in her coffee. Looking at her cup and not him she answered, "I saw it all. You had to hit him. He was fighting you. I think he tried to hit you first. If you want me to testify or make a statement about that I will." Then she looked up, "You were really great the other night. I want to help."

He took a sip of the coffee. It was a little weak for him. He put the cup down, "Thanks Ms. Stanton, Laurie. I really appreciate it." He started to get up, "That's about all I need. I'll hire someone and they'll get your statement."

Laurie liked this man. He was unpretentious, not arrogant or pushy. She thought he was handsome, not real handsome, but certainly easy on the eyes. He had sandy brown hair; it was kind of scruffy, brown eyes, and what looked like a muscular body. She'd been eying him while he talked. He looked like he needed a shave; like he'd shaved early that morning, worked all day, and now was ready to get home. He didn't look like a body builder or anything, but he looked healthy, like someone who took care of himself. He was maybe just a little over six feet tall. He wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Why she noticed that didn't make sense, she never paid attention to that stuff.

She asked him, "If you're not busy or too tired, I could fix you something to eat." She saw the look on his face, "No I'm not suggesting anything. I am grateful though."

He smiled. It was a genuine smile, "Not today, but how about if I took you out. You'd be paying me back with your company, and I'd be showing my gratitude by taking you to dinner."

She smiled, a date, she hadn't had one of those in years, "OK."

"How about this Friday?"

"Sure, Friday's good."

"Great, but could I have your phone number again; I lost it from the other night."

She thought he probably threw it out, "Sure, she opened a drawer on the end table beside her, pulled out a notepad and a pencil and jotted down her phone number. She handed it over, "So Friday night?"

He took the paper, "Say eight o'clock. Nothing fancy. Don't get dressed up. You like Italian?"

"Everybody likes Italian."

"Olive Garden?"

"Wonderful."

He thanked her again. She walked him to the door, and he left. 

As he drove away he thought about the girl. Girl was really the wrong word. She behaved like a girl; young acting, but she was older. By daylight he saw the tiny crow's feet around her eyes that betrayed her age. They didn't diminish those beautiful violet eyes though.

He thought she was small. In her living room she had on a lavender blouse and black slacks. The blouse was the standard button up the front V-neck thing. She looked small breasted, but he thought she was prettier being small like that. She didn't look anything like his old fiancé. 

  'Friday Night'

Friday night arrived and he was at Laurie's door again. To sweeten the date he'd stopped at the supermarket and picked up a handful of flowers. They weren't much as far as flowers went, just a mixture of sweetheart roses, ferns, and other stuff he didn't recognize. He knocked on her door and waited. He didn't have to stand there long.

Laurie opened the door and the first thing she saw were the flowers, "Oh for me?"

He held them over, "Just a little extra thank you for the statement and for being so nice."

"How sweet, come in a minute while I put them in water."

He stepped inside while she got a vase and prepared them. She set them on the coffee table. The arrangement looked nice the way she'd displayed them. 

Laurie knew it was an inexpensive arrangement; something people bought at the food stores all the time, but she liked them nonetheless. She knew they were cheap, but he didn't have to do anything; it was a nice gesture. She said so, "Thank you again. They're nice, and I can't remember the last time anyone bought me flowers."

He felt good, but a little bit like a fraud too. They were a last minute kind of from the hip thing. They cost almost nothing, took no extra effort, and yet she seemed so pleased. He told her so, "It really isn't much, just a thought I had that maybe you'd like them."

She smiled and held out her lightweight tan windbreaker for him to help her with.

Peter took the windbreaker and held it up while she slipped her arms through. As he held it he could smell her. He didn't recognize the perfume, but thought it had a very subtle aroma. As a rule he thought women wore too much of that stuff. It gagged him, but what she had on wasn't strong at all. He asked her, "What kind of perfume is that? I've never smelled it before."


Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 02



Peter couldn't get away from Laurie's apartment fast enough. One good look at that set of documents, plus the stuff Max had given him proved beyond all doubt that she'd been lying to him from the start, and that was the least of it. For sure nobody in her family ever had to punch a clock or worry where the next month's rent was coming from. Yes sir, little Laurie with the thick red hair and liquid hazel eyes was just another rich bitch out to skin another working stiff's hide. At least he'd caught on in time.

She almost had him fooled. The whole thing about being a virgin, her diminutive size, those almost genuine tears, the gentile way she clung to him and wept when they finished; all a sham, all for show. Even the faint discoloration, the pinkish residue on the sheets had to be faked.

To think he almost fell for it; that he'd even bought her a diamond ring. Well that was his lesson to himself. Let her keep the damn ring. He'd keep the receipt; he'd mount it on the wall. Yes, instead of his head on her wall, he'd keep the receipt as a constant reminder of his almost entrapment, his own blind stupidity.

Peter drove around all night that Thanksgiving. He should have stopped in to see his mother, or his sister and her family, but he didn't. If he had; there would have been too many questions. Yeah, they'd want to know, and he knew he just couldn't handle it.

Like a fool he'd called them all up and told them. Like the asshole he was he'd gone on and on about 'his Laurie'. What a fool he was. He'd let it happened again.

He supposed the typical reaction to a fool's act like this would be to go out and get good and drunk. For sure he liked the taste of whiskey, a good Jim Beam and coke or Jim Beam over ice was always a delight, but he invariably always ended up sick. He was a stupid asshole, a fool, but not that big a fool, no getting drunk and getting good and sick wasn't going to happen. 

He just drove, and drove, and drove. He drove on out west to the foot hills of the old mountains that stretched up and down the east coast. Once, when he had a little money, he thought about building a log cabin. Not a real log cabin, not something from the past, but a big modern log cabin, one with all the amenities. He liked the old mountains of the east, they were quiet and clean, and they had a calming effect. He liked them in the winter; wood piled in the fireplace, steaming hot mug of coffee.

That's what he needed, someplace where he could go and calm down, kick back and lay out. But the eastern mountains weren't it, and the real mountains of the far west weren't either. He remembered Wyoming; its lonely beauty, its quiet solitude, but they were too far, and he knew he still needed to work.

If it wasn't someplace like West Virginia or Wyoming, then where would it be? Where could he go? He still had a place down on the coast, down by the ocean. Yeah he had a place. It wasn't exactly a real place, an apartment condominium near the beach, about a half a block in. He could go there. It was November, there were still people, but the huge crowds of summer were all long gone.

He'd always loved the ocean, the cold grey waters of the Atlantic, the rough choppy sea, the steady drone of the waves lapping against the sand. He could lose himself there, get away. He had friends there, not great friends, but people he knew, people a lot like him, people who worked hard, people who still valued honesty and frank, straight forward, manly conversation.

Yeah he had to get away. He'd get Max to buy him out. He'd sell everything. No he'd keep the penthouse. He liked the penthouse. It was his. She'd never been there. She'd never contaminated it. She almost had, but dumb luck had prevented it. He'd go to the beach; he'd make a fresh start. 

Peter pulled to the side of the road. He'd have to sell his truck; it smelled too much like her; that perfume. He turned off the engine. He started to cry. Down on the floor of the truck he espied something, an earring. She must have lost it. He picked it up, and held it in his fingers, "Why, why Laurie. Why did you have to be that way?" He stopped crying, started again, then stopped. 

He wiped his face with his hand. He looked down at the palms of his hands, calloused hands, a man's hands like his fathers. He had his father's hands. He was proud of that.

He looked at the moisture on his hands; he felt it on his face. It made him feel foolish. Men didn't cry not over shit like this. Yeah, he'd go to the beach, settle in, start over, start a new business; they always needed housing down by the beach. That's what he'd do, leave the city, move away; make a fresh start. 

He looked at the earring again, "Oh why, why Laurie?" He started crying all over again.

++++++++++++

Laurie had a good long cry. Why had she been so stupid; why had she left those papers lying around? Why had she lied? It been such a little lie; oh my family's not rich, my mom worked for a living, I had nothing to do with 'those other people'; I'm just a regular girl. One little thing had led to another until all the little things had piled up. She should've said something. She should have thrown that trashy report right out. She should have been honest with Peter right from the start. She should have stood up to her sister. What a fool, a stupid dumb fool she was. Oh shoulda, woulda, coulda; it all didn't mean anything.

She cried a little more. She got up and tried his cell phone again. This time she could tell he'd turned it off. Dag it was Thursday; no place else to call. 

Laurie, was still in her pretty dress, the dress she'd bought to wow Peter, the one she'd picked out to show him what a really great grown up woman she was. She grabbed a lightweight coat, her purse, and the papers. She stopped, turned back, and picked up the box with the ring. She went downstairs to the parking lot to her old Toyota. She figured Thanksgiving dinner was probably over, but she felt like she had to see her mom and dad. Maybe they would know what to do. Dad might have some ideas.

Laurie drove over to her mom and dad's house. Though her brother and sister were still there; Thanksgiving dinner was winding down. Her parents had pleaded with her to come; she'd never missed the holiday before, but she'd declined, she wanted to go out with Peter. 

She pulled in the loop, turned off her car, locked it, walked up and opened the front door. From as far away as the foyer she could hear Sally ranting and raving about something. Laurie walked into the dining room. The place was warm, homey, the turkey smelled good.

Sally looked up, "Well look who's here."

Laurie's mom got up and walked over to her daughter, "I'm glad you made it." Knowing her daughter, she could tell right away something was wrong, "What's wrong honey?"

Laurie looked around, deliberately ignoring Sally she spoke, "Hi mom, hi dad, mom can I talk to you?"

"Sure honey, have you had anything to eat? We have turkey."

Sally tried to get in the conversation, "Where's your boyfriend?"

Laurie continued to ignore her sister, "Mom?"

"Sure." Her mom turned to everyone else in the room, "Excuse us a minute please."

Laurie's dad asked, "Want me to come?"

Laurie answered, "No, not yet."

Laurie and her mom walked down the hall to a small sitting room. Laurie had Sally's packet of information with her.

As they walked down the hall Laurie overheard Sally, "Leave it to Laurie. She'll find a way to one up anything."

Laurie's dad admonished, "Sally."

Laurie and her mom walked on back and each took a seat in the small room. Laurie started, "Mom, I need to talk. I need help."

"Well you know you can count on your father and me." 

"It's about a man."

"The man your father met at the hospital?"

"Yes," she didn't know quite what else to say or do so she handed her mother the packet Sally had given her, "He's the man who helped me at the Wal-Mart parking lot. Mom, I love him."

Her mother took the packet, "I wish you'd move back home. You don't need that job. What this is about him?"

"His family, Sally dug it up. Oh mom I was going to throw it away, but he saw it. He thinks I did it, and I lied. I told him I wasn't rich. He knows about our family. He..."

"Hold it a minute Laurie, slow down. Let's get your father."

"OK."

Laurie's mom stepped out and a few minutes later came back with Laurie's dad in tow.

Her father sat down and asked, "What's this about, some boy?"

"He's not a boy dad, he's thirty-one, he has his own business, and I love him." For the next several minutes Laurie described how they met, what they'd done, and the tragic accident that had caused the current crisis. 

In the meantime Sally, Laurie's brother, and their children had departed, leaving Laurie alone with her parents.

As Laurie talked, her mom dropped the first seed, "Laurie I know how you must feel, but if he really loves you he'll be back."

"No he won't. He thinks I'm a liar."

Laurie's dad interjected, "Well you should have been honest. You shouldn't be ashamed of where you come."

"I know, but..."

Her mother interrupted, "Did he tell you anything about his family?"

"Only that his mother worked, none of this other stuff."

Her dad added, "He wasn't being completely honest with you either then was he."

"No but..."

Her mom continued, "I can see why. His father was in prison."

"I know but..."

Her mother continued, "They were welfare cheats."

"Mom, she had two kids..."

Laurie's father, holding up the condemnatory packet, shifted the subject, "I wonder if there wasn't a reason why you didn't just throw this packet out."

Laurie gave no response. She looked at her dad. 

Her dad continued, "I mean; maybe you kept it, and left it out unconsciously wondering what he would say if he saw it."

"No dad."

Her mother chimed in, "No what, I think you're father has a point. It's obvious the boy, the man I mean, had something to hide. You found it, and he couldn't take it."

Laurie looked from her mom to her dad, "No you two are wrong. He wasn't trying to hide anything. I mean I never..."

Her father gave her a solicitous smile, "You wanted to believe the best. The research Sally gave you called him into question. Did you ever wonder maybe he knew who you were all the time? You're a wealthy girl in your own right. You said he needed money." 

"No dad it's not like that. It wasn't like that at all."

Her mother added, "You're father has a point. What if he did know something? Not everything maybe, but I'm sure he had some inkling, an idea maybe. You were at Mercy Hospital. I mean everybody knows us there."

Laurie kept looking from her mother to her father. They were condemning Peter, and they'd never met him, "He didn't know mom. He didn't know anything about us at the hospital. He didn't know who I was till..."

Her father stopped her, "Till when?"

She answered, "I still don't know if he..."

Her mother pushed in, "If he knows who you are? Laurie think; if he didn't know would he have run away."

Laurie kept looking back and forth between her parents, "I don't know. You two are confusing me. He didn't know. He only saw..."

Her father spoke with authority, "He only knew for sure when he saw you knew about him. Then he ran. He ran because he knew you'd found him out."

Laurie's mind was astir. This wasn't why she'd come to see her parents. She wanted their help, not this. They didn't understand, "Mom, dad I love this man. Look!" she held up the box with the ring.

Laurie's mother took the box and opened it, "A nice ring, maybe a whole carat." She handed it to her husband.

Laurie's father looked at it, "When did you two meet?"

"Right after Labor day, why?"

Her father gave her a knowledgable look, "What ten weeks. That's fast work."

Laurie eyed her father, "What, oh no dad. He's not like that. We love each..."

Laurie's mom got up, "I know dear. You're in love. It's written all over your face, but does he really love you?"

Laurie didn't want this, none of this at all, "What, you think?"

Her father sealed the deal, "Laurie you're almost thirty, alone, unwed, and rich. He's what, thirty-one, business on the rocks; he blames members of your family for his failure. Honey, if you ask me, it's hard to see the purity in the young man's motives." 

Laurie took back the box with the ring. She held it in her hands. More to herself than anyone she whispered, "No it wasn't like that."

Laurie's mother touched her hand, "We love you. I'm sure Sally only did what she did because she loves you too."

Laurie's father saw the damage. He tried to put a better face on things, "He loves you. He'll call back."

Laurie looked up, "No he won't"

Her mother drove in the last nail, "Then it wasn't meant to be then." 

Her father stood up and stood beside his wife, "Come on let's have some turkey. It'll all work out. You'll see."

Laurie got up and followed her parents into the dining room. The turkey was cold, so was the dressing and the oyster casserole, but none of it was as cold as her poor broken heart. 

+++++++++++

The Monday after Thanksgiving Peter was in the office early. He packed all his personal stuff, downloaded all the content he thought he'd need when he left, packed up his T-square, compass, old planning board, pencils, and erasers. Sure he knew how to use a computer to build plans, but he'd held on to the stuff he'd gotten when he'd first started. Yeah, back in the day, during the dark ages, even though the stuff was there electronically, he still relied on the old fashioned paper and pencil. It was rustic and quaint, but he still liked to fiddle. It was like the idea of a calculator. He used calculators all the time, but he still liked to get out a pencil and paper and compute the old fashioned way once in a while. 

Finished the packing he leaned back in his chair. He held his cellphone up. He had a large contact list. He guessed he should delete some numbers. He flipped the phone open and pressed the button to go over his contacts. He meandered through the list; this one stayed, this one could go, that one maybe later he'd decide, down to the Ls, there it was, no not yet, he still wasn't strong enough, maybe in a week or two, he skipped over it.

Max walked in, "Peter you're early. How's it going?" Suddenly remembering, he backtracked, "I mean are you all right?"

Peter spun around. He liked his swivel chair; he thought he might take it, "Max I want you to buy me out."

Max was stunned, "You're kidding."

"No I mean it. I think I'll move to the beach. I have a condominium. I might start over down there."

Max, at first nonplussed got pissed, "You're a stupid asshole. No piece of ass is worth this."

Then Peter got pissed, "She's not just a piece of ass."

Max backed off, No I didn't mean that. I meant, look we have a good business now. We're starting to make some real money. We produce a good product. Don't throw it away."

"I want to leave. I need a change of scenery."

"OK, OK, I get that, but let's go slow. First, I can't afford you. I'm in too deep. Why don't you just take some time off? Look, go ahead move to the beach. Maybe start a fresh business, but let's keep it together. Look, I can hold up my end here. You move to the beach, start an office get a crew, get some contracts and make a go of it down there. I'll figure something out up here. Hey, we've got the kid Dustin. I'll raise his salary and make him a supervisor. I'll keep us going here. You get something started down there. It'll work Peter."

"I don't know."

Max was full of remorse about the part he played, but he needed Peter's talent too, "Hey Pete, you bail out here, run off to the beach, it's like you're beaten, whipped, a failure. That's not you. You're a fighter. Don't quit on me, shit, don't quit on yourself. Sure go to beach, but not with your tail between your legs. Go like you know who you are. You're one tough hombre. We're a team, you and I, so half the team's going to branch us out. That's good!" 

"You'd be good with that?"

"I'd rather see you stay and face your demons here, but if you want to move away, then let's do it together."

Peter looked at his partner and friend, "That could work."

Tell me this Pete, "Were you going to sell your penthouse."

"Well no."

"See! You weren't out for good. This is just a company move, not a life choice."

"OK Max, we'll do it."

"Great!"

So Peter found a way to escape, at least for a while. Max either couldn't or wouldn't buy his half of the business, but hey, he had some money; maybe enough to get started at the beach. He'd figure it out. He'd started with less before.

++++++++++++

Laurie stayed Thanksgiving night at her mom and dads. They thought Peter knew who she was all the time. She didn't believe that; for her to believe that would have been like her actually having researched his family. Love was built on trust. She loved Peter, but for some stupid reason had been afraid to trust him. If she'd been honest from the start no pile of papers on an end table, no dossier or heap of shit like that would have ever mattered. They'd have laughed about it. They'd have laughed at Sally's stupidity. It was her fault. She did it, and she'd fix it. She loved Peter. She loved him with all her heart and soul. She took out the diamond ring. She slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand; that's where engagement rings went. 

She lay back down on the bed, her bed, the bed she'd had since childhood. This was where she used to do all her homework. This was where she'd learned to solve the mysteries of quadratic equations, where she crossed the Alps with Hannibal, cried for Estella and Pip, and yes this was where she learned victory was better than defeat, winning was more fun than losing, and while quitters never won, winners never quit, and she was no quitter.

++++++++++++

Peter got his truck lubricated, had the tires checked, and engine gassed up. He told himself again he'd have to get rid if his old truck; the odor of her perfume, though pleasant, was an unpleasant reminder of past stupidity. He started out toward the ocean; that meant battling through the traffic of two urban areas, stop and go driving over a five mile bridge, and then the long tedious transit across the sandy coastal plain. The bridge he crossed was the only way to get from the great plateau that extended up the northeast coast to the Atlantic shoreline. Once on the eastern side of the bridge his travels carried him across the sandy alluvial plain; a broad expanse of low flat land barren of any distinguishing features other than an occasional slow moving river and hundreds of nondescript farms. 

His destination was a one-time small seaside town located on the southernmost end of a long slender barrier island. It was after Thanksgiving, the last week in November but there were still close to thirty thousand tourists in the small ocean resort town whose year round population was a scant two thousand. 

The town and all economic activity was dominated by a six lane highway that bisected the twelve mile stretch of a narrow peninsula. To the west of the highway was the bay with its flounder, sea bass, crabs, and clams. Bordering the bay on the west were hundreds of town homes, motels, hotels, and in November mostly empty taverns and restaurants. Though slowly being overtaken by more housing the west side of the bay was still mostly marshland, and the home of hundreds of species of birds and small animals. 

East of the highway, on the ocean side, there was a complex array of more hotels, motels, houses, and eateries. The north end of this twelve mile stretch was all high end housing, giant high-rise motels and hotels, a few elaborate estate like mansions, and dozens of upscale high priced actually overpriced, restaurants. The further south a person went the older and smaller the structures became until one reached the extreme end where a channel had been carved by a storm some eighty years earlier. 




Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 02



It was to the southern end Peter drove. In the summer when three hundred thousand tourists and vacationers habituated this beachfront mecca it was in the south where one would find the bikers, the college kids, and younger upwardly mobile families with limited resources all vacationing, swimming, enjoying the park rides, and the boardwalk, and quietly looking ahead to the day when they'd be staying in the ritzier north. 

The south end, the old town, had a special flavor, a distinctive appeal for Peter. He loved the old south end; its well-built wood frame homes, the 1920's era bathhouses, the gaming houses, the rustic old pier. The old town had quiet streets with little homespun diners, old fashioned grocery stores, and curbside parking. 

It was in the south where the beach extended the farthest; where the beautiful white sand offered the best places to spread a blanket or towel and soak up the sun in summer or walk a big dog in the winter. The town's fathers understood the importance of the beach. Year round there were work crews who cleaned and curried the sand. In the spring visitors could stand at the water's edge and watch as men in wetsuits operated bulldozers pushing sand from the sea to the shore. It was here in the south where the waves rolled in like gentle ripplets. 

Further north, and along the beaches outside this wonderful town the waves rolled in and slapped straight down; throwing swimmers unceremoniously smack against sand in breathtakingly painful jolts. Along those more northerly beaches, though snobbishly preferred by many as being more upscale, unsuspecting children were often unnecessarily injured as a result of the savagery of the more brutal undulations, as they lifted and drove youthful swimmers, like nails into a board, headlong into the sand. 

Of course the real joy of the town was the water; the majestic grey green water of the Atlantic. It was cold, but not harshly cold like the Pacific, and nothing like the biting chill found in the Atlantic waters along the coast of Maine, the waters here were just refreshing, invigorating and restorative.

Peter loved the ocean, he loved this town, and he loved the clean white sand of this beach. It was here where one could lay back or sit back and enjoy the slow rhythmic song of the waves as they rolled in to shore. He needed this; he needed a place where he could clear his head, rest his broken heart, and find solace in the continuous monotony of the ebb and flow of the water. It all reminded him of the vast infinity of the universe, and the relative insignificance of most human problems. Here with the sand, the sea gulls, and the sea he could cleanse his soul and rediscover his childhood. 

How many summers had he spent here; he couldn't remember, but he remembered the beach, the water, the pizza, and he remembered each year's annual discovery of true love. How many girls had he met here? He couldn't remember, but he remembered loving every one. But it was never about some carnal adventure; no he thought of the shared joy of a ride on the tilta-whirl, a stolen kiss under the boardwalk, the furtive innocent squeeze of some sweet girl's new young breast. In fact everything had been new and clean then. He needed to be reminded of those things; he needed the regenerative nurturing reminders of past happier times. It was all here, all present, here to greet him with the warmth and cozening charm of those long filed away, forgotten, memories.

Peter pulled to the curb, turned off his truck, jumped out and walked up the steps to his condominium apartment. He was home. It wasn't where he grew up, it wasn't where he went to school, no it wasn't any of that, but it was the place where he could be free, be safe. 

Inside he looked the place over. It had the musty smell of long disuse. It was a welcome aroma. He dropped his bag on the bed. The mattress he remembered; it still sagged in the middle, the victim of long use and neglect. Like embracing a long lost friend he flung himself across it. He was sound asleep in minutes.

++++++++++++

Laurie spent Thanksgiving weekend at her parents; sleeping mostly, but calling Peter's cellphone too. He'd turned it off.

First thing Monday after the holiday she dropped in at her work and gave them her notice. What was the use; she wasn't very good anyway. She packed up her things; just a few personals and said her good byes.

Just after lunch she found herself on the parking lot in front of the shed Peter called his office. His truck wasn't there; she supposed he was out on a job, but the other man, Max she believed was his name, was there. She got out of her car and walked up the steps to the shed. She knocked.

From inside she heard someone say, "Come on in."

She went in, "Hello my name is Laurie Stanton. Is Peter here?"

Max took one look at the woman in front of him, and knew he'd made a terrible mistake. This girl couldn't be one of the infamous Stanton family. He replied, "No he's not here."

"Do you know when he'll be back?'

"Couldn't say."

"You're Max, Peter's partner, aren't you?" 

"Yes."

"Can I leave a message?"

"You can leave a message, but I doubt if he'll see it." He pointed to an empty desk, "That was his desk. He cleared out this morning. I don't know when he'll be back."

Laurie saw the desk, the empty ink blotter with scratch marks, old notes, and the occasional doodle, This is his company? I'd assume he'll be back sometime."

"Oh it's still half his, but he's probably not coming back. He loaded up his truck; said he was off to make a fresh start." 

"Did he say where he was going?"

"He made me promise not to tell anybody." That wasn't exactly true, but Max figured that's what he'd want him to say.

Laurie sat down in what had been Peter's chair. She swiveled around in it, and took a closer look at the graffiti on the blotter. She didn't see anything that might give her a clue. She looked out through the dirty window at the storage area where several pieces of equipment were parked. She rested her chin in her hand, then turned back to Max, "You have to tell me where he went."

"He made me promise."

She leaned forward, the chair squeaked. Pressing her hands together in her lap she entreated, "Max, you have to tell me, a terrible mistake has been made."

"He made me promise."

"You know what happened."

"Yes."

"You think I'm bad."

Max actually didn't know that much. Peter had given the most cursory of descriptions and let it go, "I don't know who's bad or good. Peter got mad and left, that's all."

"You know who I am."

"Yes, you were his girlfriend."

There was a note of finality to Max's comment that upset her. She breathed in a ragged sigh. She held up her hand, "He gave me this."

Max hadn't noticed the ring. He didn't think Peter had gone that far. It made him feel even worse, "Look I'm sorry. He's really angry. He left. He wanted me to buy him out. I talked him out of that. He's gone though, probably won't be back."

"Max a mistake has been made. It was my fault. Please tell me where he is."

"He said he wanted to start over. He left. What else do you want me to say?"

"Max you said you knew where he went. I love him Max. Won't you please help me?"

Max knew he was part of the reason why Peter had left. He felt guilty. He realized now how much of a fool he'd made of himself and of Peter, still he didn't want to get more involved, "I'd like to tell you. I just don't think I have the right to get mixed up in this."

Since Laurie didn't know of Max's involvement she thought she understood the way he felt, but it didn't make it any easier, "I'm sorry you feel that way. I wish you would change your mind." She could see he wouldn't, "Here's my phone number. If you do, please call me. I love him you know."

Max took the phone number, but he had no intention of ever using it.

Laurie had hit her head against a stone wall, "Thanks Max."

+++++++++++

Laurie spent the rest of the day driving around the city. She drove north into the countryside where she, her brother, and their friends used to go horseback riding. She drove west to where they held the annual apple festivals. They held big Civil War reenactments up there too; but those activities were all done now. 

She had to figure something out. She'd been so stupid. She should have been forthright from the start. Now she was in a bind, but it was something she knew she could work through. She needed a plan. Long about 8:00 p.m. she drove back home to see her parents again.

++++++++++++

Laurie's father and mother spent Sunday afternoon, after mass, at the country club. They were worried about their daughter. Laurie had always been something of a maverick. Her family, the Stanton's, had always been active in community affairs; several had held elective positions, others had been central in key Catholic charities. 

Mrs. Stanton, Aurora, was particularly worried, "Carroll," he husband's name was Carroll, he'd been named after a relative and a signer of the Declaration of Independence, "I think Laurie's gotten herself in over her head."

Carroll wasn't so sure, "I think Sally had a lot to do with Laurie's current crisis. I'm not blaming Laurie for everything, not that it matters." 

Carroll had come to expect Laurie to go through these little peccadilloes every now and then; blaming her privileged background had led to crises of conscience in the past. For some reason she wanted to feel guilty about being privileged, and it had played out in interesting ways in the past. The family had always been conservative by nature and Republican by political persuasion. Laurie had eschewed these long accepted family values. Though never especially active socially or politically she'd made a point of joining the Democratic Party and occasionally campaigning for one or two of their candidates. He never saw Laurie as much of an activist; just someone who liked to denounce the wealth she enjoyed without stepping too far from it.

He understood her decision to find a job on her own, get her own apartment, even buy a cheap second hand car, but he knew, based on his observations of the way she still relied on her bank and checking accounts, she never wandered too far off the farm.

Aurora always felt her husband babied their daughter. She thought he always took up for her, even when she was wrong, especially when she was wrong, "You'd blame the Holy Mother before you'd hold Laurie accountable for anything."

"That was uncalled for. I think Sally got jealous that Laurie had finally found a beau. I think she dug up a lot of trash and tried to use it to dissuade Laurie. Laurie just stupidly left it sitting around, the idiot saw it, and assumed the worst."

"You don't think he deliberately tried to get close to our girl?"

"No, do you think he staged some kind of attack on a Wal-Mart parking lot? That's ridiculous. No I think they met, and they really hit it off. Then Sally got mixed up in it, and the asshole went off the deep end."

"You think he's stupid?"

"Don't you?"

"I don't know."

"Listen Aurora anybody who'd panic and run off because of some stupid packet filled with the kind of bullshit I saw without giving our Laurie a chance to explain herself has to be stupid."

"You don't think he was after her money?"

"No, I don't think he thinks about money. Honestly I don't think he thinks at all."

"Carroll I don't think you know what you're talking about. The man's mother was a welfare cheat, and his father ended up in prison."

"I don't know his mother, but I do know it's impossible for a lone mother to raise two children on what the state hands out. If she got a part time job to pick up a few pennies to help her kids I don't call that being bad."

"Well his father was a jailbird."

"Yeah, and as for his father, we can always say the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree, but that wouldn't automatically make the boy a convict. He went to college, he got a degree."

"He went to a community college."

"Oh so what Aurora; that's probably all he could afford, college is college, and he finished it off with a four year degree at a pretty good state school; a school our son couldn't get into even when he graduated from a $20,000.00 a year private high school. And that was with a plethora of private tutors too boot!"

"You really read the packet didn't you."

"Yes I read it, didn't you?"

"No."

Carroll sat back and steepled his fingers, "I wonder what his father really did that landed him jail?"

Aurora countered, "He tried to kill somebody."

"That's what it said, but I wonder..."

"You would."

"No I mean, you remember the old African proverb, how the hunter went out and killed a lion, then he came back and told everybody how dangerous the lion was and how hard it was to kill it. Everybody was amazed at his bravery. But everyone forgot the lion had a story. Maybe this boy's father had a story."

Aurora responded with diffidence, "You think this boy's father was in prison unfairly?'

"I don't know. I just wonder. Look I don't want to blame some boy for what his father might have done."

"Carroll you amaze me. This is our daughter. You sound like you think this son of a convict and confirmed welfare cheat is a worthy match for our daughter."

"I didn't say that. Hell, he's probably just white trash. But I like to think I can trust my daughter. If she thinks there something to him, I owe it to her to at least think about it."

"Well I've thought about it. He's garbage, something the cat dragged in. I don't want her near him."

Carroll shrugged, "It doesn't really matter anyway. From the way it looks he's gone."

"Good, let's not talk about it anymore."

Carroll was glad the conversation was over. He didn't like the idea of some jailbird's kid fooling around with his girl anyway. She'd get over him. This wasn't the first time. Still he had his daughter to worry about, "What about Laurie?"

"Let's send her on a trip."

"She has a job."

"We can talk her out of it."

"OK, if we did talk her out of, where would she go?"

"How about Italy?"

"Aurora are you kidding? Look at the kid Amanda Knox."

"Oh come on Carroll, she did it."

"I don't think she did, and I don't like Italy anyway. The men are always pawing our women."

"OK, how about France?"

"I have an idea. How about we let Laurie make up her own mind?" 

Aurora looked at her husband like he was stupid, 

"You believe she could do that?"

"Sure why not?"

++++++++++++

Laurie got back to her parents a little after midnight Monday night. Her father was waiting up for her, "Laurie are you all right?"

"I turned in my time at my job."

Carroll was delighted, but expressed no opinion, "Have you made any other plans?"

"Yeah, I think I'll get away for a while."

"Where you going, Italy?"

"Of course not. I think someplace close by, some place where I can think."

"How about New England?"

"Gee dad it's too cold, beside I don't want to go that far. Peter might show up."

"So have you picked a place?"

"Is anyone using our house at the beach?"

"Which one?"

"The one on the Eastern Shore."

"No that's closed for the winter. You want it?"

"I might go there, if that's all right with you and mom."

"It's OK with me. I'll tell your mother. Do me a favor though.

"What?"

"Use the car we bought you."

"The BMW?"

"We spent a lot of money for it. We'd like you to use it."

"OK."

"When are you going?"

I think I'll pack up and get off tomorrow."

"That's pretty hasty. Why not wait and tell your brother?"

"Are you kidding? I don't even want mom to know."

"You have to tell your mother."

"Dad!"

"OK, it'll be our secret."

Laurie walked over and kissed her father's cheek, "Just between us."

"You'll use the BMW?"

"I'll use the BMW."

++++++++++++

That seemed to be that. Laurie went to bed. She was headed for the Eastern Shore, to their bay side beach house. She'd use the time to think, to get on the Internet. If Peter hadn't gone too far, she bet she could find him. If she found him, then well. Then she'd figure something out. She looked at the ring. Yeah, she'd figure something out. She lay across her bed and thought about Peter, about what she'd done to ruin things, she cried some more.

++++++++++++

The next day Laurie packed up her BMW, and drove for the ocean. The family had two ocean front homes; one in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina where her father acceded to his one great addiction, golf, the other was in Ocean City, Maryland. It was to the second site she drove. She chose the Maryland location for a few of what she thought were pretty good reasons; one if while searching the Internet she located anyplace Peter might be staying she could get there quickly, second, she liked the Maryland resort's boardwalk and the cleanliness of its beach, and third she had friends who owned a restaurant and hotel, and lived there year round.

She reached her parent's bay side house late in the day, and decided to take a nice long nap. The weather was cool; not icily cold yet. She slept till it was nearly sundown, and decided to drive across ocean highway to the south end of the town and visit one of the several little eateries she liked so much.

Laurie, when not in Europe or on the west coast, spent parts of all her high school and college summers at the Maryland beach. She liked the relaxed atmosphere and the youthful ambiance of the place. While she loved the north end's upscale dining and dance facilities; there was a special place in her heart for the rustic, really quaint, character of the south part of town. For sure it was a little grittier, and pretty rundown, but it had that special kind of charm older sections, neighborhoods in the late stages of existence, held. It had that nostalgic grace only a slowly dying once rural community could have. 

She drove to the furthest point south, made her left turn and drove up the furthest east street that paralleled the ocean. She made a right on one of the old streets, parked her car, got out and walked up a few short steps until she found the tiny diner she loved and remembered so well. 

It was a tiny little place just about one block in from the boardwalk. The food service was sporadic, largely dependent on the availability of help. This time of year she figured getting a piece of fish would take a little longer. She sat at a window table overlooking the curb side parking and the row of older houses across the street. She remembered this was Assateague Street; it was named after the other barrier island on the other side of the inlet that had been carved out during the storm of 1936. 

By the time she got to the diner the sun had nearly set; and the wind was whipping up pretty good. What she wanted to do was get a bite to eat, and then walk out on the beach down to where the breakers rolled in. 

A pleasant young girl, probably a native, came and took her order. About ten minutes later her flounder sandwich arrived. She bit into it; it tasted good, but she could tell it wasn't flounder, probably drum she figured. She enjoyed it anyway, drank a glass of lemonade, paid her bill, and left a nice gratuity. She got up, pushed her chair under, and left for her first stroll on the beach.

++++++++++++

Peter had driven around all day looking at possible lots. It was after dark when he got back to his condominium. His little place was a third floor efficiency in an old house just a half block off the beach. He liked the old house, and he liked his flat. The old house had been severely damaged in the big storm of 1962; hurricane Agnes, he thought it was. Outside it had a rundown look, but inside; from the lobby all the way upstairs to his flat it was all warm and welcoming. He liked the street too; it was named after the barrier island that had been carved out by the big storm back in the 1930's.




Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 02



He would have liked to have parked his truck in front of the house, but someone, some self-important tourist had managed to take two spaces with their BMW. He ended up parking on the next street over. He parked, locked it up, got out and walked around by the first street that ran parallel to the ocean, got a coffee at a small coffee shop there, and went on home.

As he walked up the single flight of steps to the front door he saw the BMW was still there. He didn't have anything against people who preferred foreign to American made cars, but he did think he could tell a little about the people who owned the foreign models. He had an opinion about BMW owners, and it wasn't a good one. He went on in, shed his coat and plopped down in front of the television. He wanted to check the news. He drifted off to a half sleep while the news was still on. It seemed like every time he thought he was going to get to sleep her face crept into his mental vision. He hated her. He loved her. He wondered what she doing. He bet she was out someplace with all her society friends.

++++++++++++

Laurie loved the beach at night. The wind was crisp, the water looked like it had a chill about it; and there was a phosphorescence to it that delighted her. She took off her shoes and socks and got her feet wet. Yes, it certainly was cold. She dabbled around along the edge of the water a little while till she felt the pull of fatigue even an afternoon nap couldn't thwart. She left her shoes and socks off and walked back to the boardwalk. It was late, maybe 10:00 p.m., nearly everything was either closed for the night or boarded up for the winter. She walked up the boardwalk till she found her street, and walked down to her car. She glanced around at the old houses. Except for the dim light of what was certainly a flickering television screen in a third floor bedroom everything was closed up and dark. There was a sadness to the setting. She thought of Peter. She wondered what he was doing, where he was. Was he thinking of her? 

+++++++++++

Over the next weeks Peter fought what seemed like daily battles to get something, anything, going. He had the start-up capital, he had the expertise, and, after a pretty exhaustive search he found two likely lots. What he'd forgotten was he was out of his element. Back home he was the hometown boy. Everybody knew him and wanted to see him succeed. Down on the shore though people knew and liked him, he was still an outsider. He'd approach them about getting a crew, getting supplies, or getting someone to provide some service, and they'd be gracious and generous with their time on the phone or at a diner, but when it came down actually delivering the result was predictably the same, they were too busy, too tied up, something else had intervened. They weren't being mean or vindictive; they were just protecting the homegrown. 

Getting a decent crew was harder than he thought it would be. They were hundreds of miles from the nearest big cities; he thought problems like drugs and petty crime wasn't something he'd find. He was mistaken. Finally he did get one good local boy, but better he was able to hook up with a couple skilled Honduran men looking for real work at good pay. That in itself posed another problem; the Latin men he got were working for somebody else. He offered them more money, better working conditions, and more respect. Before he realized he had the law down on him wanting to know if he understood the costs of hiring illegals. He got it straightened out, but it did take up more time. What he planned on doing was build two houses on 'spec'. He'd tried to sell them when the market opened up in the warmer weather; but if he couldn't he'd simply rent them out to cover the costs.

Periodically he had to call Max to get draw-downs of cash. Max didn't seem concerned, though he did have some things to say about something else. In fact the other concern ended up eating as much time as the original purpose of his calls; it was enervating to say the least.

Once Max got Peter on the phone he went after him about Laurie. Peter never felt more uncomfortable. He had trouble sleeping as it was; Max was little help.

Laurie had been to see Max, and wanted to know where he was. Max had held his ground and not told her, but he told Peter he felt like a cheap shit doing it. 

He remembered what Max said, "Pete I know you're pissed at Laurie because you saw she had some kind of sheath of shit about you, but didn't I give you the same thing about her? Aren't you being a little self-righteous about the whole thing?"

He recalled saying, "Well yeah, but she lied." Max had decried that as a feeble excuse, "Look Pete I met her. She's sincere. If she lied she had her reasons. You said you didn't like the family. What was she supposed to do? She liked you. If she'd have told you the truth you would have blown her off. I know you Pete. You would have."

He remembered agreeing, but also saying it was probably too late. He explained, "Look Max she's probably moved on by now. You know gotten on with her life."

Max didn't argue.

The next time he called Max he got another story, he cited, "Laurie's father had been by, and he wanted to know where you were. He said he was concerned about his girl; she just wasn't interested in anything anymore. She'd quit her job, and had moved away. He didn't tell me where she'd moved."

Peter reflected, "I didn't know she'd take it that hard. I really thought. Oh shit, who knows what I thought, if I thought anything at all." Max had said, "That's what Laurie's father said; that you'd used your ass and not your brain. He wanted to help. He said he honestly didn't give a rat's ass about you; he just wanted to make his daughter happy. Pete he sounded like a guy who loves his little girl."

Peter recalled he didn't have an answer for that.

For Peter, no matter how hard he worked, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get her off his mind. Then after the phone conversations with Max he wondered if he hadn't just screwed up everything. 

++++++++++++

Laurie lived from day to day. She had plenty of money, and she had friends at the beach who tried to keep her cheered up. She, of course, told everybody everything. Peter was all she thought about. They needed to know.

Laurie had moved down at the end of November, right after Thanksgiving. She stayed on doing nothing all through December right up to and after Christmas. It was easier to sleep, loaf, and walk the beach and boardwalk than to seriously take control of her life and move on. She was just stuck.

There was something else too. She and Peter had made love for the first time back in October. It had been her first time. It had hurt, but she remembered how gentle he'd been. They made love a few more times afterward, but Peter had seemed to be reluctant to push himself on her. He was careful. She guessed he just didn't want her to think it was all just about the sex. That was another thing that made him special. Honestly, she liked the sex, especially after the first couple times, but it was more about the warmth, the closeness, his strong male presence tempered by a gentle tenderness.

That wasn't really the something else. Ever since she was thirteen she'd had her menstrual cycles. For nearly sixteen years she'd been as regular as clockwork; come the second or third week of the month and she knew she was on the rag. She had alternating months of minor and serious pain. It was like one of her ovaries was extra busy, and during those cycles she suffered horrific cramps. For the first time in years in October she skipped her period. Then she missed November. Now it was December and she knew. It wasn't just the skipped cycles; it was the nausea, and the biliousness. 

There wasn't any question about whether to have it or not. She was Catholic. She'd have the baby, but what then? She sort of figured her parents would want her to put it up for adoption. She knew she wouldn't. She was about to turn thirty. She might never marry, and this was still Peter's baby. 

She wondered sometimes; what if he knew, would he come back, would he take her back, would he give their baby his name? She knew she was living in a fantasy world, but it still haunted her. 

++++++++++++

Peter slowly rolled his way into an informal pattern of behavior; up every morning by 5:00 a.m., a brief walk out to the beach, then back for a coffee and either eggs or toast at the diner across from his condominium, and then off to a small office he'd rented about twenty blocks north just off the main highway. He'd check to read any e-mails and see what was on the answering machine, and then it was off to each of the two work sites he'd set up. Excepting for concrete, electrical, and plumbing he was able to accomplish everything himself. His two Latino guys proved to be very good workers, and the one local boy, once he got his attitude adjusted, worked out well too.

Peter kept everybody on the job till the sun went down, and then they'd break for the night. He expected once they got everything under roof and closed up, they'd be able to use lights to go after the dry wall, woodwork, painting, and if he couldn't find anybody, the carpeting.

After work each evening he'd stop off at home, clean up, and then choose a restaurant for his one good meal a day. There were lots of good steak and rib places about, but he preferred the seafood. His very favorite seafood place was called Norris's; it had been in service since the early 1950's, a family operation that had branched out to the north end of town and to nearby cities. They always had good crab cakes and flounder, and even now in the winter they still sold good steamed crabs.

It was December 27th, close to the end of the year, he was tired and hungry, and decided to hit Norris's one more time. He pulled up in his pick-up, went in and ordered a dozen steamed crabs. It was close to 7:00, and if he ate fairly expeditiously he'd be home in bed by 9:30. 

++++++++++++

Laurie had become increasingly lethargic; her pregnancy and lack of motivation had slowed her to near inertia. Only those few close friends who lived in the town kept her from staying home all the time. The only excursions she did make was an occasional evening or morning walk on the beach. She'd thought about taking up some kind of craft; perhaps painting, or doing something with seashells. She'd visited the fish exchanges on the bay side where the watermen cleared their nets of the mollusks they'd garnered. Some of the shells were quite nice, and she envisioned herself doing something with them, but it never panned out, she just lacked the energy.

Her friends had persuaded her to meet them at Norris's for a late dinner. Though she was seldom hungry anymore, and alcohol was definitely off the menu she agreed go. 

They all got together over some crab soup and dip. There were four of them; Laurie, Angelina, Doris, and Nicole. The other girls had been individually pumping Laurie for weeks about her pregnancy, who the father was, and what she intended to do. Tonight they'd decided to get as much out of her as they could, and also maybe try to help her get a grip.

They were all seated at a window table overlooking the front parking lot. There were a few cars and a handful of pick-up trucks outside. It was dark, but the lot lighting still made for some visibility.

After a short period of small talk Angelina finally directed the conversation at Laurie, "Laurie you know we're all worried about you."

"I'm glad you're thinking about me, but there's really nothing to worry about, I'm fine."

Nicole interrupted, "That's not true. You look like shit, and we know you don't do anything but sit around and mope all day."

Doris asked, "Have you decided what you're going to do once the baby comes?"

Laurie replied, "I'm keeping my baby. After that I, well, I don't know."

Nicole asked, "Have you tried to contact the father?"

"No."

"Why not," asked Doris?

"Oh I don't know. I don't think he'd care."

Angelina piped in, "I thought you said he loved you?"

"He did I think once, but that was before."

Nicole chimed in, "I think you should try to find him. He might have changed his mind."

Doris added, "Yeah sometimes men care about things like kids, especially if they know they're their own."

"Oh it's his, but I just don't think it would matter."

Nicole changed the subject. Looking outside, "Its funny how many guys think owning a pickup makes them macho."

Angelina was tired of talking about Laurie's trouble anyway, "You ever noticed they all look the same, the pick-ups I mean."

Doris leaned around and looked out the window, "Look I'll bet there must be a dozen of them out there."

The other girls all looked out the window.

++++++++++++

Peter had finished his hard crabs; he paid his bill, left a tip, and ambled his way out to the parking lot.

++++++++++++

Nicole smirked, "You ever noticed the guys who drive those old trucks all look alike too?"

The girls watched as some local cowboy climbed in his truck, backed it up and started to pull away.

Angelina commented, "Yeah, they're all alike, baseball caps, flannel jackets, work boots, and a gun rack.

Laurie hadn't been paying that much attention. Her mind had wandered off thinking of Peter. She finally got a look at the pick-up truck as it pulled away. Yeah she thought, they do all look alike. If she didn't know better that could have been Peter. She felt suddenly very tired, or was she just sad? She needed to go back to her house and sleep some more.

They all chit chatted for a little while longer. They thought they'd gotten everything there was to get out of Laurie. By more or less mutual consent they agreed whatever happened had to be up to Laurie.

++++++++++++

New Year's came and went. In rained anyway; a cold sleety rain. The weather turned colder, a biting, bone chilling, wet cold; sunlight was at a premium. For Peter the work days dwindled; most of what needed to be done had been accomplished anyway. He let the local boy go, but held on to the two Hispanic men till he got the carpeting in. Landscaping had to be tended to, but he'd do that. He found himself spending more and more time just walking the beach, listening to the surf, and watching the foam pile up in the morning. He felt like he'd gotten a lot of work done, but it had done nothing to ease his somber mood.

++++++++++++

Anymore Laurie only got to the beach once or twice a week. It was too cold, and the weight she'd gained, though not extraordinary did tend to slow her down even more.

One morning Laurie rallied; she got up early enough that she might see the morning sunrise. She'd tried several times before to get to the beach ahead of the dawn, but for one reason or another had failed. She'd seen the morning sun over the sea once or twice before, and there was a moment, a few seconds actually, just as the first edge of the sun crested over the horizon when the darkness surrendered to the morning light and there was a sort of greenish not quite yellow glow cast upon the water. She thought she'd like to see that maybe once more. 

The weather was so bitterly cold, and she was so tired, she thought she'd give up on the beach and go back to her parents. She felt despondent about the thought of going home; she knew of she did it would be a kind of surrender, another diminution of her person-hood.

Wrapped in a heavy coat, thick mittens; scarf around her head and covering her face she walked the dark sandy beach. Nothing ever seemed to work out the way she wanted. For a while back in the fall it looked like all her dreams were about to come true; then in an instant it all evaporated. She knew she had nobody to blame but herself. She was beyond tears; tears might have meant hope, and she was way beyond that. For two cents she thought she'd just walk on out in the water and let the waves carry her and her baby away.

++++++++++++

Peter hadn't been able to sleep again that night. He felt so lonely. He'd gotten up in the middle of the night, gone out on the beach, and just sat there. He sat there all night long. Sure it was cold, but he'd been to Korea, this wasn't as bad as that.

It looked like the sun was about to come up, another new day. He was sick of new days. He got up and started back toward his condominium. Maybe he'd open a bottle of bourbon. It was the absolute dead of winter; the beach and town were desolate. Nobody, but nobody ventured out anymore; only the rare isolate like himself.

He turned from the sea and looked into the darkness toward the boardwalk; nothing, only another lonely soul headed out toward the sea, a woman. 

He gathered the collar of his coat against his head and face. He covered his face with his grey woolen scarf. The woman he saw was nobody, just another lost and lonely soul. Head down, eyes forward, he trudged passed her. They weren't more than fifteen feet apart; just two lonely strangers.

What was that smell? He stopped and turned around. His eyes followed her as she slowly stumbled toward the breakers, "Laurie?"

The woman was already well beyond him. She slowed her gait, paused, she turned and looked up.



Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 03



Peter's first reaction was disbelief. He spoke again, "Laurie?"

Laurie had her back to the ocean; a stiff cold land breeze was in her face. More wind than breeze; it smacked her in the face, it swept her breath away, through a hacking cough she rasped, "Peter?"

Peter sort of recognized the voice. It sounded a lot like Laurie's; only it was caught up in some grating hoarse shallow whisper. Could it be her, really her? His face was to the first grey warnings of the sunrise, hers trapped n the shadows; it was impossible to make out who the woman was. He asked again, "Laurie is that you?"

From where Laurie stood, though the man's face was wrapped in a thick woolen scarf, she could tell who it was. She started to repeat his name but the wind chased her voice back down her throat. She was only able to release another scratchy wheeze, "Peter."

He knew it was her all right. Laurie Stanton, influential blue blood, co-conspirator in the plot to steal his company and wipe him out; here she was, right here on the beach, right where he was, at the exact same spot at precisely the same time. This was too good to be true. Somehow the rich bitch had found out where he was. She'd tracked him down. What, she wasn't satisfied she'd ruined his life, broken his heart, literally run him out of town? Now she was here. To do what, finish him off; deliver the coup De grace? 

Totally out of character Peter erupted, "You bitch! You low down, cold blooded, reptilian bitch!"

Laurie heard some of what he said. She heard the anger, but she couldn't precisely make out the words. She gasped out, "Peter...I" That was all she could say. Between the wind and the tightness in her chest she was stopped. Her response dissolved in a bone chilling cough. 

To call what Laurie emitted a cough was a gross exaggeration; it was more like an explosion; a convulsive expulsion of yellow green phlegm accompanied by a deep low throat tearing moan, a viscerally repugnant raw scraping rasp akin to fingernails on a chalkboard, a hacking whistling wheeze, a short hoarse gasp for air. It was as if, vomiting into her lungs, she was drowning in front of him, struggling for that last dram of breath. Her attempt to get out her words, any words resulted only in a whistling rattling dry echo, a raw desperate attempt to breathe, to keep from choking.

Peter was angry, infuriated, but even through his fury he gathered something was wrong. The sun had broken through. Her visage was still as clouded as the darkness of her outer apparel, but he knew she was sick. In spite of himself, in spite of his desire to lash out and do the unconscionable and hit a woman; he stepped forward. He reached out his arms and grabbed her by the shoulders.

He shook her, "What are you doing here?"

Laurie felt so weak, so fragile, the wind, the cold, "Peter I..." Nothing more came out, only more coughing.

His anger was gone; it died the moment he'd touched her. She was sick! He pulled her closer and felt her forehead with his hand. She was afire! She was like some wispy hollow reed about to snap, victim of the harsh wind and the piteous cold. He bent forward and lifted her, "Laurie you're sick!"

She tried to reach out, to touch him with her arms; she just lacked the strength, "Peter I'm..." No additional words were forthcoming. Even wrapped in his arms she doubled over, convulsed with a second battery of dry deep barking whoops, heaving honks that betrayed a deeply entrenched inflammation. 

The sun was up. He could see her face clearly. It was scarlet, and not from the sun or the wind. He briefly touched her face again. It was dry and hot, the kind of dry heat associated with a high fever. She was desperately ill. 

She made another attempt to speak.

He shouted down at her, "Shut up!"

He turned and strode westward across the sandy beach. He was apoplectic, intensely furious, wrathful, but mostly scared! The further he walked, or rather struggled across the soft sand, the more he felt the heat emanating from the helpless girl so tightly swaddled in his arms. Peter's anger found new direction; it turned toward the sand, the distance, the wind, the cold. The further he walked the more rapidly his anger with her dissipated. That anger; that justified self-righteous fury he knew was his by all that was right and good evaporated; it was melted away by the heat from the small torrid body he carried. 

By the time he reached the boardwalk, though it had been only a few seconds, his ire had floundered on the rocks of fright, fright turned to fear, then to terror. People who angered him, those who betrayed him, who were deceitful weren't supposed to get sick. They were supposed to be impervious to pain, incapable of suffering, always hale and hearty. 

He couldn't hate, couldn't despise someone in need of help, his help, that wasn't in his nature, and at that moment no one needed his help more desperately than she did. 

He ran to his truck. Holding her tightly in one arm he fumbled around and found his keys. There was a first aid building about three blocks up the main highway. He knew it would be open; this time of day it was mostly the habitue of drunks and over indulgent drug addicts. This morning they'd handle a real emergency! 

Laurie was partially alert, "Peter I want to tell you..."

He wasn't interested, "I said shut up. You're sick."

"I'm sorr..."

"I said shut up."

She shut up.

He got her in, buckled her seat, flew around, jumped in his side, turned on the ignition and peeled out. With total disregard for traffic lights and pedestrian warnings he swerved and sped as fast as his old truck would allow. He'd completely forgotten past injustices; this was Laurie, and she needed a hero. She needed him. 

First aid station in sight, he veered off the main drag, jumped the low concrete median strip and pulled to a stop at the front door. Out of his truck, around to her side, he unfastened her safety buckle, lifted her and, kicking the front door of the aid station open carried her through to the Triage desk. He shouted at some half somnolent older woman staring passively at a computer screen, "She's sick! Get the doctor!"

The older woman groggily looked up, "Insurance? Identification?"

He placed Laurie in a wheel chair. In the clear light of the clinic she looked frightful, piteous. It frightened him even more. He pulled open his wallet, found a credit card, and threw it on the counter, "A doctor! We need a doctor! Can't you see she's sick?"

From the back a young looking woman emerged, "I'm the nurse on duty. Can I help?"

Peter, glad to get anyone, said, "This lady, my girlfriend is sick."

The nurse told him, "We'll take care of her. Can you tell us what's wrong, who she is? Does she have any insurance, allergies?'

"I've got money. She's allergic to bees. She's burning up with fever. Do something!"

By then another young woman, more a girl than woman appeared.

The nurse turned to her, "Let's get her in the back." She looked at Peter, "Calm down. She'll be all right now. Care to wait outside?"

"No, I'm going in with her."

The nurse smiled, "All right." She started for the door that led to the back.

The older woman, the receptionist started to say something, but the nurse touched her arm, "It's OK. Call Doctor White."

The receptionist gave Peter a quizzical look.

He grinned a little sheepishly, "Don't worry, I won't steal anything."

The receptionist turned away, and started to type the girl's name into the computer. In seconds she had the girl's medical background and family up on her screen. The Stanton's were at least as well known in this small ocean side town as they were back at home. She picked up the telephone and made two calls.

++++++++++++

Back inside the aid station the nurse was quick to make a diagnosis. She'd also noticed the diamond, though on the wrong hand, she inferred what she thought it meant. She turned to Peter, "Your fiancé might have a bad case of bronchitis, though it could be pneumonia. I'm going to take a little blood, and do an X-ray, but I'll need someone to sign off on this."

"I'll sign." He gave no indication nor did he say anything to dissuade her of her mistake about his relationship with Laurie. 

The younger girl produced some paperwork, and he signed off on it. He strongly suspected anything he signed was probably either illegal or would have no bearing on anything, but he didn't care if they didn't.

He waited in the room they'd taken her while they rolled her off for the X-Ray. Shortly, the nurse came back with some results from the blood work. She nurse said, "I'm sorry, the blood work probably wasn't needed. I just wanted to make sure of a few things."

"What's that," Peter asked?

"We doubt she has hepatitis or anything, but, of course, you know she's pregnant, and I thought she might have pneumonia."

Peter had no clue about pregnancy, but he didn't let on, "If she has pneumonia she'll need medicine, "That won't..."

The nurse smiled and interrupted, "It won't hurt the baby, and if you're worried about the X-Ray that won't either. However, antibiotics could weaken," She looked down at the chart, "Laurie's immune system. She could suffer some side effects."

Peter started to shake slightly. Laurie was down here, with him, with pneumonia, and pregnant. He wondered if she was with anyone else. Should he call someone? Her parents will want to know. They might even be here with her. He should call them. 

While Peter was pondering what he should do, the nurse had been on the phone with one of the town doctors. The physician she'd called was an older man; and their main contact there at the aid station. His advice had been to keep her at the station for the day, pump her full of antibiotics, water, and Tylenol till they stabilized her temperature. He told her he'd be down later to look her over. If her temperature hadn't gone any higher, and they had a good warm place nearby she could go home later that evening or better still, the next morning.

The nurse reported to Peter what she'd done plus more, "Her fever is a little over 103. She does have pneumonia, but it looks like Streptococcus, the most common and most easily treated kind. The doctor will be in later this afternoon; he might want her to stay over one night."

Peter checked his watched. It was after 9:00 a.m., and he was exhausted, "Is there a place I can stretch out for a while?"

The nurse gave him a thoughtful look. Normally anything like that would be out of the question. But it was January; the place was empty and would most likely see little activity, "You should go home."

"I'd like to stay. I mean in case she wakes up and needs somebody."

The nurse looked around, "I guess we could find you a cot. We'll put you up in a storage area off from the waiting room."

Peter thanked her.

++++++++++

Further west, in a city across the bay the phone rang. Mrs. Stanton picked it up, "Hello."

"Hello, Mrs. Stanton, Aurora Stanton?"

"This is she."

"You have a daughter, Laurie?"

Mrs. Stanton sat up in bed, "Yes."

"I'm calling from Ocean City. A young man just brought your daughter into our clinic. She's feverish and has pneumonia."

Aurora was on the side of the bed, "Where are you? What street?"

The reception shared the information she was asked.

Aurora turned and poked her still somnolent husband. He rolled over. She said, "Wake up. Laurie's sick, pneumonia, and she's with some stranger."

Mr. Stanton was awake and already out of bed, "Where is she?"

Aurora told him.

He yanked the phone from her hand, closed the receiver and reopened it. He called the airport. He checked his watch; forty minutes to the airport, another forty in flight; he'd be at her bedside inside three hours. He got the assistant where his plane was stabled, "This is Carroll Stanton. Get my plane ready, and clear a line for me to the Ocean City airport. I want to leave within the hour." He hung up. 

Aurora lay in bed and watched her husband as he drew a quick shower, dried off, and started to slip into some clothes, "What are you going to do; go down and fetch her home?"

Carroll slipped into a pair of BVD's, khaki slacks, and then pulled over a yellow rugby shirt, "She's gotten herself into something, and I intend to find out what it is."

"You bringing her home?"

"I don't know, probably. I told her she could stay there. I'd hate to go back on my word, but sometimes I don't think she's that responsible."

Aurora sat up, "You knew where she's been all this time?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't tell me?"

"She made me promise."

"Promise what?"

"Not to tell you."

By then Aurora was out of bed and pulling on a pair of expensive designer sweat pants, "I'm going too."

Carroll looked over and grimaced, "I'd rather you didn't."

"I don't care what you'd rather. I'm finding out what goes on down there."

Now Carroll was interested, "What are you talking about?"

"Some man was responsible for her being sick; it was a man who took her to the clinic." 

Carroll thought, 'the plot thickens', "Well hurry up if you're going. I'm leaving with or without you."

Aurora already had her sweat suit on, and was slipping into a waist length fur coat, "Come on, I'm ready."

Together Aurora and Carroll, two concerned parents, hurriedly walked to they're waiting limousine. 

Carroll stood by while the still groggy chauffeur held the door for Aurora. As Carroll got in he said, "Thought I'd let Jarvis drive; that way I can recheck with both airports and make a call to the clinic." 

Aurora, having already slipped in and over said nothing. Carroll slipped in, Jarvis started the car, and they pulled away.

++++++++++++

Peter tried to get some shut eye, but he was over tired and stressed. After several fitful attempts to get comfortable he sat up. There was a Dunkin Donuts just up the street. He got up, pulled on his overalls, slipped on his work boots, tied them off, found his hat and heavy coat and left the clinic. He figured he'd be gone just long enough to grab a coffee and a doughnut. Maybe that would calm him down enough to clear his muddled mind. He doubted if he'd get any sleep; he had a lot of thinking to do.

He found the Doughnut Shop and went in. He walked over to the counter, pulled out his wallet and asked for a coffee and a plain doughnut.

The man at the counter wasn't natural born. Probably from Pakistan Peter figured. He pointed to the coffee, "I'll have a coffee with cream, no sugar, and I'd like one of those." He pointed to the plain doughnuts.

The man behind the counter was holding down the inside shop plus a drive through window. Though it was late in the morning, there was still a pretty brisk business. 

The man at the counter got the doughnut, slipped it into a small bag and turned to the coffee, "Coffee, cream and sugar."

Peter tried to stop him, "No, no sugar." He watched as the man poured the coffee and then plopped in two, then three scoops of sugar. 'Crap', he thought, 'and they have good coffee too.'

He picked up his change and took the over sweetened coffee and plain doughnut to one of the two small tables inside the shop. He bit into the doughnut; it was stale.

He looked around; he remembered not many years ago the Dunkin Donut Corporation was largely locally owned franchises where they made the doughnuts on site. He scanned the place he was in. It was clean, but sterile. He couldn't say too much about the seaside doughnut shops, but he remembered the ones back in the city. They were usually owned by some old Jewish couple. The man did the cooking, and the woman probably handled the books. They cooked fresh every three hours or so, and local kids filled in during the busiest times. 

They used to bury the donuts in glaze or icing. Cream filled donuts were a meal in themselves. Everything was thick and rich, and always there were six or seven tables fitted out with chess or backgammon boards. It was commonplace to walk in and see a half dozen men sitting around a chess match; all swilling coffee and gobbling up the pastry. Whatever those old Jews lost in better product; they more than made up in patronage and goodwill. 

Jeez he missed that. His country had become so dried up, cold, all for the quick buck; all the ambiance was gone. He didn't blame the Pakistani or whatever he was; he never knew. But something good, something wholesome had died.

Peter finished his coffee, wiped off the table, and left. It was time to get back to the clinic and think. 

++++++++++++

Carroll and Aurora made it to the airport, checked out their private plane, got the appropriate directions and took off. The weather, though icy cold, was otherwise good. They expected to be at the ocean side airport within forty minutes. Neither said much. They were both lost in their own thoughts.

Carroll half guessed who the man who'd taken Laurie to the clinic was. He knew he'd skipped out of the city; he just wasn't sure where he landed. Laurie must have found him, and they'd renewed their relationship.

Carroll had paid for a thorough investigation into Peter's background. The kid, man really, was thirty-one. His mother was sixteen when she'd gotten pregnant. She'd married some guy, not the one who'd knocked her up, and then had dropped out of school. He found no trace of Peter's biological father; only the man who ended up in prison. 

Apparently the man Peter's mom had married was never able to handle the fact his oldest child wasn't really his. They'd had a second child, Peter's sister, a couple years later. Somewhere along the way he started to abuse Peter's mother. She was over eighteen so her records hadn't been sequestered. 

She'd had a pretty rough time. Eventually she ended up at the House of Ruth, a halfway house for battered women, but like most women in that situation, she took responsibility for his brutality. From then on when she wasn't ensconced in some safe house she was in and out of the hospital. Finally it got so bad a neighbor called the police. They probably saved her life. He was arrested and charged with attempted murder. Since it had left the realm of being a domestic dispute she couldn't cover for him. He was found guilty and given a stiff sentence. When he got out the state slapped him with a restraining order. He tried to go back once, but someone saw him, and the police picked him up again. After that he disappeared for another year until his body was found somewhere out west, Kansas City the report read.

Peter's mom had been a welfare cheat, or at least technically she was. She got welfare for herself, and social security checks for each of her children as long as they were under age. The money must not have been enough. She found ways to supplement her income. She got an older lady to watch her kids while she worked at bars for tips, and probably for the occasional outside sexual favor. 

Carroll sort of knew what those sexual favors would have been; probably leaning into an open car door while four or five guys stood around and watched and laughed. He remembered when he was in college doing exactly that. It never occurred to him then the women they used had lives, that they were human beings. He did remember some things about those women, he remembered the phony smiles, the pretense at fun. It must have been awful for them.

In spite of all that he saw from the report she somehow managed to get her GED, and about the time the daughter reached high school she was ready to find a real job. It wasn't much; someone at the House of Ruth helped her get a teller's job at a bank. She must have worked her tail off because she was an assistant branch manager when the economy went south in 2008. That was the end of that. She scrounged around until she found something at a grocery store, a Super Fresh or something. They went belly up too, and she landed something at another food store cutting lunch-meat at the deli counter. That's where she worked now.




Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 03



He'd found out a lot about Peter too. His was an interesting case. He'd quit high school, joined the army, put in his three years, came out and had gone to a local community college, then finished it off with two more years at a very good state college. 

Out of college he took off on his own. He used his hands and his brains to start his own carpentry business. He built his first house all alone; from the bottom up. By the time he was twenty-nine he was on his way; then the bottom fell out. He nearly lost everything. 

That's where his family came in, Carroll's son and a colleague saw the young man's troubled business and closed for the kill. They got most, but not all of it. 

Peter was just getting back on his feet when he rescued Laurie outside the Wal-Mart. After that, well after that there was Sally. 

Carroll wondered if the two of them, his daughter and Peter, had patched things up. He didn't know Peter, but had a hunch he'd like him if he got to know him. Laurie loved him; that spoke volumes.

Aurora sat quietly while her husband flew the plane. All she wanted was to get Laurie back home. Her daughter wasn't competent to make her own decisions. Once she got her home she'd get her in counseling. She just couldn't imagine what kind of trash she'd hooked up with at the ocean.

++++++++++++

Laurie was half in and half out of her mind. She was sick. She'd seen him at the beach. She'd found him. Peter had taken her someplace; some hospital. It had to be someplace at the beach. Where did he go? She needed to tell him what happened. She needed to apologize. She tried to get up, "Peter?"

The nurse on duty heard her and ran into the room. Laurie was half out of the bed, "Come on dear. Lie back down."

Laurie looked up at the nurse. She'd never seen her before, "Where am I? Where's Peter?" 

The movement and the attempt at speech resulted in another paroxysm of coughing wheezing and gasps for air from fluid filled lungs.

The nurse gently urged her back in the bed, "You're at the Southside Clinic. Your boyfriend is asleep in another room. You want me to wake him?"

Laurie nodded her head.

The nurse adjusted the covers. She added another blanket, "Stay still. You're very sick. You have pneumonia; you need to take care of your baby."

Laurie lay back down, she coughed, "I'm so cold; get Peter for me."

The nurse pulled on another of the thin medical blankets, "I will I will, just lie still."

Laurie drifted off again.

++++++++++++

Peter got back to the clinic and sat down on one of the chairs in the waiting room. He just couldn't sleep.

Not finding Peter where she expected him the girl stepped in the waiting room where saw him, "You're Peter?"

He got up, "Yes."

"She wants to see you."

He followed her into the room where Laurie was lying. She looked terrible. He pulled up a seat and sat beside her. He took her right hand and whispered, "Laurie."

Through the medication the bleary eyed young woman looked over at him, "Peter, is that you?"

"It's me."

"Peter I'm sorry. Please let me explain."

He squeezed her hand, "Explain later. I have to explain some things too, but right now we've got to get you well."

"You won't leave?"

"I won't leave."

"Promise?"

"I promise." His mind started to work overtime. 'What was he doing? Was he out of his mind? She didn't just show up at the beach this morning by chance. She must have been looking for him. But why? He'd left her, hadn't even looked back. Was she that determined? Maybe, maybe not; no forget it. No don't forget. She'd done something terribly wrong; that's why she kept trying to apologize. OK, he'd get her well, see to her recovery; then they'd talk it out. If he felt satisfied with her explanations he'd forgive her. 

He'd never forget, but he was a fair minded person, he was capable of forgiveness. She was pregnant. It was certainly his. The baby would need a father, a last name, some claim to legitimacy. He could do that. It would be part of the package; forgiveness plus the assumption of responsibility. That was the right thing to do. He was a man after all.'

++++++++++++

Laurie began to dream.

Laurie drifted back off into her feverish world of internal visions and voices. It wasn't sleep, not exactly, more like that semi-somnolent, trance like state one has when they're desperately ill. It was at these times people often dreamed, not good dreams that come with healthy restorative life giving REM sleep, but odd, off the wall, sometimes terrifying fever driven nightmares.

She lay on that hard indifferent hospital bed covered with thin hospital blankets and traveled from one hallucinatory illusion to the next, from one agitated apparition to another. Each visage was superseded by an even wilder more fearsome fevered episode. 

She was at the beach. It was summer, and she wanted to enjoy the refreshing surf as it swirled and curled around her frame. She dove deep in the frothy breakers and emerged; hair wet, she shook her head and let the sudsy foam cascade around her healthy tanned body. Suddenly she espied the ominous signs of a coastal riptide, those swiftly circling eddies that spelled danger. She planted her feet and started to wade ashore, but the remorseless turbulence began to suck her outward, away from safety. She felt the pitiless suction draw her out, away, deeper. Her legs were helpless against the watery onslaught; the savage maelstrom was about to pull her under. She cried out for help. In her delirium she cried out, "Peter, Peter, where are you?" 

A cool hand rested on her hot brow. The loathsome torrent receded. Cool comforting arms encircled her. A voice whispered in her ear, his voice, "Quiet Laurie. It's all right. I'm right here." She drifted back into a comforting torpor.

Again she was in the water; her hands were clasped around the metal bars of a water sled as it was pulled along by the powerful engine of an outboard motorboat. The surf slapped her face. Her sister Sally was laughing beside her. She felt the cool refreshing breeze as the sled went skidding across the ocean water. What a delightful, wonderful day, gliding along the surface of the cool invigorating water; a great day to be alive! 

Then Sally began to push her off the sled! What was she doing? Why was she doing this? Stop it Sally! Off to the right was a long large dark image; it was just under the surface of the scudding waves. It was a giant shark; she saw the outline of a great white shark with layered rows of sharp teeth cascading out and down around its powerful jaws. The fish was closing in! Sally kept pushing her away! 

Laurie felt her feet, then her legs slide off, away from the protection of the sled. 

The shark was at her face. She saw its black beady eyes. She was inches, seconds, from being engulfed, drawn away and down, down into the dark fluid, held in the merciless grip of that primordial leviathan's lethal jaws. She cried out, "Sally stop! Help! Peter where are you? I need you!"

Again she felt the pleasurable soft cool hands of redemption; gentle fingers caressed her hot dry cheeks. A loving palm was laid upon her forehead. Loving lips were at her red hot ear, "Calm down darling. I'm right here. Nothing's going to hurt you. Just go to sleep."

At last she drifted off. Somewhere someone was whispering something to her. Someone was beside her. It was Peter. He was holding her. His strong arms were around her. She felt safe, secure, protected. The lethal dorsal drifted away, the deadly whirlpool faded to a calm, benign, even friendly, ripplet. 

++++++++++++

Peter sat at Laurie's bedside and listened to her fitful calls for help; he heard her frail feverish helpless entreaties, he watched as she flailed about helplessly. Periodically she called out his name. She was so hot! Finally he saw no alternative but to climb in beside her. He dropped his shoes and slid under the sheet. His overalls were rough and dirty. He shed them and lay beside her in rumpled white boxers and worn grey sweatshirt. He wrapped his cool arms around her hot body. He cooed softly in her ear. He laid his hand on her slightly rounded stomach. His child was in there. He sang long forgotten lullabies. He stroked her brow; so helpless, so beautiful, so precious. Yes, he'd forgive her. He might gently, lovingly, chide her from time to time, but he'd cherish her, and always remember to care for her, love her, and protect her. 

++++++++++++

It was a little after 2:00 p.m. when Carroll and Aurora's plane landed; they acquired a rental car, and started for the Southside Clinic. Carroll began to wonder if they were doing the right thing. What if it had been Peter who'd brought her to the clinic? What if they'd reached some sort of understanding? What if they'd made up? He looked over at his wife, "I'm dropping you off at our townhouse."

Aurora was tired, but not too tired to see her daughter, "Why?"

"I have some things to do. Then we'll get Laurie together."

"What you need to get an ambulance so we can take her home?"

That wasn't what Carroll had been thinking, but he decided not to disabuse his wife, "Yes."

"OK, drop me off. I need to shower up anyway."

As he drove on to their palatial bay side townhouse he thought about Laurie, her insecurities, and her many apparent needs. Peter, if it was Peter, certainly would never be his first choice, but he was a man who understood responsibility. Laurie needed someone to provide guidance, set limits, and give structure to her life. 

No, Peter wasn't his first choice, but Laurie wasn't a child any longer. She was nearly thirty; she couldn't depend on her parents forever. He believed she loved Peter. Peter could be her lover, her companion, and her care giver. Yes, not the best maybe, but with Peter she'd probably be in good firm hands.

++++++++++++

While Laurie laid in a feverish state her father, ignoring his comments to his wife, drove to the Southside Clinic. The place looked barren; only a medical vehicle, two cars parked in the employee sector and a lone pick up truck. He pulled to the side of the road and typed in the number of the clinic, a youngish sounding woman picked up the phone, "Hello, Southside Clinic."

Carroll asked, "Is Peter Dawson there?"

The woman on the other end of the line answered, "Yes, shall I get him?"

Carroll responded, "No, never mind." He had what he needed, now he had to detour his wife. He restarted the rental and sped back to their townhouse.

++++++++++++

Laurie tossed and turned, cried and whimpered all night long, and all night long Peter held, cooed, and coddled the sick woman. Around 5:00 a.m. he could tell she'd come through the worst; her body was covered in sweat.

The doctor had been in earlier and he and Peter had conferred. They both agreed she'd probably be better off at his apartment. The doctor knew the location; he'd had friends who'd once lived there. He complimented Peter on his choice of domiciles; it was good place, well built, recently insulated, convenient, and homey. 

He told him not to worry about the baby; pneumonia wasn't dangerous at such an early stage. He left Peter with several prescriptions; an antibiotic, an expectorant, and some prescription strength Tylenol. Other than that he gave the customary instructions; a quiet softly lit environment, plenty of fluids, fruits, and lots and lots of sleep. 

When Laurie awakened around 7:00 she found Peter snuggled against her in the bed, "Peter?"

He cast about drowsily, "Laurie, you're awake?"

She tried to rub her eyes, but her hands were caught in the blanket. He rubbed them for her. She asked, "Have I been asleep long?"

He looked at the clock on the wall, "A little shy of twenty-four hours."

Still very much under the influence of pain killer and antibiotic Laurie made a feeble attempt to stir, "I have to get up." She started to wheeze.

He held her in place; he tucked the hem of one of the blankets up under her face, "No you don't. You have pneumonia."

She turned white, "Pneumonia!" she started to cough, "I can't have..."

He put a finger to her lips, "You can and you do. You're pregnant too." He snuggled her neck, "I'm guessing it's mine. Not to worry, the doctor said the pneumonia won't endanger the baby." 

The first flush of awakening had worn off. Her head had started to pound; she felt fragile, those awful achy, weak, sensations associated with sickness, "Where am I, how did I get here? We were on the beach. I have to get home. I'm dying of thirst."

Peter got out of bed, found an empty cup, tore off the plastic, filled it from the nearby sink, and plunked in a straw, "Here," He held the cup while she dutifully sipped the precious liquid. She started to cough.

Peter withdrew the cup and tried to answer her questions, "You're at the clinic in the south end of town. I had to carry you off the beach. You were burning up with fever. That was yesterday morning. I brought you here. You've been sort of out of it all yesterday and all night. I don't know where home is, but I live just a few blocks south of here. The doctor and I agreed it's a good place for your recovery."

Laurie tried to reach for the water again. Peter held it out for her. She sipped some more and gasped out, "No, I'm at my parents townhouse. I should go there."

"Is anybody else there?"

She answered, "No."

He checked her forehead. She was still hot, "I'm not working on anything right now. You should stay at my place. It's a good spot, close to a pharmacy and grocery store. I'll be on hand to help you get better."

Her head was killing her. It wasn't a traditional headache but a hardcore fever headache with all the heavy drumming that it inferred. Try as she might she couldn't focus, "I won't be too much trouble?"

"Don't be stupid."

She tried to get to the other thing, "Peter I'm sorry about..."

He kissed her forehead and rested his hand on her abdomen as he cut her off, "Let's get well shall we?"

She closed her eyes. She was already half asleep.

Peter covered her up, added two more of the thin blankets, and stepped out of the room down to the Triage area. There was another woman on duty, "I'm going to step out, get some coffee and something to eat. I'll be back in a few minutes. She's gone back to sleep. Her medicine isn't due till 11:00. I'll be back well before that."

The receptionist smiled, "Don't worry I and the nurse on duty will be here."

He smiled back and stepped to the door. 'OK,' he thought, 'let's try to get the coffee right this time.' He started to trudge back up to the Dunkin Donuts, stopped and turn for his truck. He'd have to buy supplies, and there was an economy store across from the Donut shop. 

He went to his truck, got in and took off. He decided to get the supplies first, but realized nothing was open yet, so it was off for the coffee. He used the drive through, got lucky, and was waited on by a native. He got the coffee and drove across the street to wait for the economy store to open. He checked his watch; he had maybe twenty minutes.

++++++++++++

Carroll went back and checked in with Aurora, "Aurora I've been to the clinic."

"Did you see our girl?"

"No but I saw Peter Dawson's truck."

"Holy Mother, that's who I thought she'd be with; that white trash no good found her again."

Carroll held up his hands, "Wait a minute. I think it might have been the other way."

You mean she found him?"

"Could be, good chance."

"No, she wouldn't do that. She has too much pride."

"Aurora did it ever occur to you she might actually love him?"

"Laurie? No, she doesn't understand what love is."

"I don't know. I think she might this time. I mean how many other young men has she ever brought around for us?"

"She didn't bring this one around either."

"No she didn't, but I think Sally had a lot to do with that."

"That's right, blame Sally."

"Look I don't want to fight about this stuff. I have something else in mind."

"Like getting our daughter and fetching her home?"

"No, like leaving her to her own devices; let's let the two of them work it out."

"You're crazy."

"No I'm not. Listen, neither of us know this man, but Laurie does. I want to trust her judgment. I mean of she sees something, there must be something there."

"What if she's wrong?"

"We can always break it up if we don't approve."

Aurora thought about that. Laurie had always been pretty easy to control, "OK, so what's your plan?"

Carroll pulled over a chair and started to explain to Aurora what he foresaw. The more he talked the better Aurora liked what he said. After a while she was more confident in what Carroll supposed than he was. She knew there were good reasons why she'd settled on him. After all, she'd been quite a belle in her day. 

++++++++++++

So Carroll and Aurora agreed to let nature take its course, at least for the moment. The assumption being, if things between the two young people didn't work out they'd committed no foul. If on the other hand things started to shape up; then they'd step in at the propitious moment and help the Dawson boy close the deal on favorable terms for all. 

Later that afternoon the Stanton's repacked some clothes and drove their rental back home. They'd wait and see. For the moment they'd play no part in the drama that was their daughter's life.

++++++++++++

Peter got his coffee, this time to his specifications, skipped the doughnut, and sat across from the economy store till it opened. As the assistant manager opened the front door Peter was there to follow him in.

He took a shopping cart and filled it. He picked up four heavy duty sets of flannel pajamas, two thick flannel robes, two sets of furry slippers, some white and black socks and stockings, a couple comfortable looking Tee shirts, some cotton boxers in what he thought would be her size, two boxes of depends, a couple toothbrushes, more toothpaste, more towels and wash rags, soap, alcohol, witch hazel, baby powder, barrettes, cold cream, hair shampoo, bobby pins, Q-tips, a DVD player, two DVDs, one the old Footloose and the other Pretty Woman, some Skin So Soft, a hair brush, more shaving cream, some lip gloss, chap sticks, two Harlequin Romance Novels, clear nail polish, one of those little sandpaper boards women used on their fingernails, some cokes, crackers, cheese, cookies, air fresheners, more toilet paper, handy-wipes, a thermometer, a nice woman's wristwatch as a present, and a bed pan just in case.

Since he had an extended cab he was able to load everything right in the truck. By 11:00 a.m. he was back at the clinic. Laurie was still asleep. In fact she didn't wake up till after 2:00 in the afternoon. When she finally did awaken, he was right there all ready to forgive and start over.

Laurie yawned and rolled on her side, "What time is it?"

Her bodice was open and her breasts exposed so he covered her with a blanket, "A little after 2:00.

"Morning or night?

"You mean morning or afternoon."

"OK, which?"

"Afternoon."

"I'm thirsty."

"Sure," he started for the water."

"No I want milk."

"How about a coke?"

"No milk."

"Look why don't I get you some milk when we get home?"

Laurie yawned again. Her head still ached, "I don't have any milk at home."

"I have milk."

"I want to go to my house."

"Don't you remember we agreed you'd stay with me till you got well?"

"How sick am I?"

"Pretty sick."

"Like how sick?"

"Pneumonia sick."

She got a frightened look on her face, "I..."

He interrupted, "We already talked about that. Pneumonia won't hurt the baby."

"How did you know I'm having a baby?"

It occurred to him she probably didn't remember much if anything, "You are in a little hospital."

"Oh," she paused, "So I'm going home with you?"

"Yes."





Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 03



"You're going to take care of me."

"Yes."

"Wait on me."

"Hand and foot."

"Where's my milk?"

"I can't get you any yet."

"Why not?"

"The kind."

"What?'

You didn't tell me the kind, white, skim, chocolate, buttermilk?"

"Yuk, I don't like buttermilk."

"OK, what kind then?"

"All the other kinds."

Just then the nurse on duty walked in, "How are we doing?"

Laurie looked up at the nurse, "He won't bring me anything to drink."

The nurse smiled; she looked from Laurie to Peter, "What can I get you?"

Laurie smiled at Peter then whispered to the nurse, "Just a little water I guess."

Peter thought to himself, 'yes she's starting to feel a little better.'

The nurse got another cup, poured some water in from the sink, and handed it to Laurie.

Laurie thanked the nurse, smiled sweetly at Peter, and daintily drank some of the water, "Mm, this is really good; better than milk even."

The nurse smiled at Peter, "I have her paperwork ready. She can leave as soon as we settle up."

Peter followed the nurse to the front desk where they handed him the bill, several prescription forms, a set of instructions, and some phone numbers.

When Peter saw the bill he almost passed out. He signed off using the credit card, and followed the nurse back into the sick room where she got Laurie to sign off on some paperwork, mostly legal stuff freeing the clinic from any litigation.

The nurse looked in the closet for Laurie's attire, "Come we'll get you dressed." She stepped back; everything was covered with sand and crud, "Do you have anything else?"

Peter leaped to his feet, "I have some clothes in the truck. I'll be right back." He ran to his truck, grabbed some furry slippers, a set of pajamas, a Tee shirt, one of the pairs of boxers, and one of the flannel robes. 

He was back in a jiff; he handed everything to the nurse, "Here you go."

The nurse laid everything out. She stared back at Peter incredulously, nice slippers, love the panties."

Laurie laughed.

Peter blushed.

They used a wheel chair to get her to the truck. He lifted her in the cab, wrapped a blanket around her, got in on his side, turned it on, and started for his condominium. He looked over at her; he thought she looked really pretty, "You still want some milk?"

"Ice cream."

"Let me get you home first. There's a stand right up the street; any particular flavor?"

"Butter Pecan."

"Just in case got a second choice?"

She glanced over and grinned, "Yes, Butter Pecan."

He shrugged, "OK."

She laid her head back on the seat.

He wished he had the old fashioned bench seats; the buckets seats kept him from holding her, and he really wanted to do that.

++++++++++++

They got to his condo; he carried her up the steps, through the foyer and on upstairs to his apartment. He opened the door, sat her in a big old easy chair he'd bought years before, and then proceeded to prepare the bed. He pulled down the cover sheet, fluffed the pillows, he had four big old goose feather pillows, picked her up, slipped off her slippers, slipped her out of her robe, and placed her in the middle of the bed. He pulled up the cover sheet, laid a thick old quilt on top of that, tucked it in around her head, and stood back, "Are you OK for me to go get your prescriptions and your ice cream?" 

Laurie was lying in the middle of this old fashioned double bed, quilt swaddled up around her head and buried in the middle of a big thick pillow. 

To Peter she looked comfortable, but in fact her fever was back, and she felt terrible. She asked, "May I have some Tylenol please?"

"I have some regular Tylenol. I guess they'll have to do until I get the stronger prescription ones."

She was starting to lose it again. She smiled up wanly, "They'll do fine."

He grabbed a coke, twisted open the lid, held out three pills, and watched as she took the pills and drank some of the coke. 

She whispered, "I'm awfully tired."

He sat on the side of the bed, "Go ahead, and go to sleep. I'll get your medicines a little later. I'll get the ice cream then too."

She was nearly gone. She'd completely forgotten about the ice cream. He guessed that she had.

++++++++++++

The next two days were spent with Peter hovering, dozing, and doting, while she slept and whined. There were intermittent spells of hallucination, but nothing like what had happened at the clinic. Mostly she was disoriented, tired, achy, and in need of sleep. 

Throughout her early convalescence, if that was what it was, he concentrated on keeping her medicated, hydrated, and fed. Every night he said a little prayer thanking the Campbell's Soup Company for Chicken Noodle, Chicken Rice, and their vegetable soups.

Of course she had other needs; there was the toilet, tooth brushing, and bathing, but he was ready. The bathroom had been added recently so it lacked some of the finer points. The tub was smallish, and the shower head had an over eager water saver. He got around the water saver by buying a hand held shower head from which he extracted most of the guts, thus permitting a stronger spray. Everything else, the toilet, the sink, satisfied all basic requirements.

Over the next days he found himself doing things he'd never done before. He also found out he rather enjoyed it. He discovered he didn't mind at all helping her with the bed pan, even when she pooped. He kind of liked washing her shitty little ass, patting it dry, and rubbing on a little baby powder. After the first time he was careful not to use too much powder, since he got in the habit of wiping her down with either alcohol or witch hazel when her fever came back. In fact he especially liked the witch hazel treatment. She was small but not skinny. 

One might say she was tiny, but a little bit cherubic. She wasn't very muscular sort of plumpish, fluffy. The fever gave her a pinkish hue, and when he rubbed her down she felt warm and delicate, soft, fragile. She had beautiful little breasts, an adorable heart shaped ass, a pretty little rounded tummy where she was keeping their baby, and a magnificent little puss. 

He wished he could come up with a cool word to describe her snatch; it was soft, small, and it felt good to touch. That first night he started his own little perverse ritual by snipping and shaving away tiny parts of her pubic hair. He was slowly denuding her vagina; giving it his own homemade depilatory. He doubted if she would appreciate it very much, but he'd make something up. Mainly it was his own little treat to himself. 

He liked kissing her Mons and labia when she was asleep. He'd snuggle his face in the little cavern between her two labial lips. In fact, when she was asleep, and he was wiping or rubbing her down, he spent a lot of time kissing her. He kissed her sweet lips, uppers and lowers, her neck, up and down her spine, her tummy, and of course, one of his favorite places, her breasts. He found he could get her nipples to distend even when she was asleep. It was a lot of fun. He'd never had a girl like this, one all his very own in just this fashion. He enjoyed himself even if it was a little fetishistic.

When he rubbed, wiped, and fussed over her while she was awake she tried to protest, but her complaints sounded halfhearted. He sensed very strongly she liked getting the attention as much as he liked giving it, and he certainly liked giving it. He remembered before, at the time of her first rescue in front of the Wal-Mart, how much he learned to like her personality, her quick wit, and her gentle charm. Since her second rescue out on the beach he discovered how much he enjoyed fondling and fiddling with her body. 

Taking care of Laurie had revealed another side of his personality. Peter had discovered how much he wanted to care for, pamper, and dote on this very special woman. He believed he could go on just this way forever. 

++++++++++++

Laurie spent most of her time asleep, but during those few waking moments when she was lucid she saw Peter in a new, different vein. Here was the man she loved; the man she wanted to share the rest of her life with. But was he ready to accept her on the terms she envisioned. She wanted to be a full and equal partner; a real help mate, a true contributor, a recognized and valued person. 

She lay struggling to formulate what she hoped to say. The fever headaches, the medications, her pained condition made rational linear thought difficult. OK, she'd tried independence once and it hadn't worked out, but there had been reasons, for one there had been her own refusal to fully cut the cords that had bound her to a childlike dependency. 

'God,' she thought, 'if only she wasn't so sick. She'd lied to Peter, and she was ready to apologize, put it right, but that didn't mean some kind of surrender. She'd be a full and equal partner in whatever relationship emerged, or she'd go it alone.' 

++++++++++++

Laurie was on the road to recovery. Peter's ability, thus far, to deflect or defer their inevitable confrontation was on the wane. He and she had to grapple with past misunderstandings, come to terms with who they were and what they wanted, what they wanted for themselves and for that other little customer who hadn't been heard from yet. Hopefully, and for Peter prayerfully, they'd find that new framework for a long lasting relationship; one that would bring them, and that little unborn elf inside her happiness.

Peter knew what he wanted. There could be no more retreat, no withdrawal, and no more running away. He'd been a coward, a yellow chicken back at Thanksgiving. That was through! He wanted this woman. He wanted Laurie. He wanted their baby. He was ready to fight. He'd fight her parents, her brother, her sister, anyone; he'd get her and keep her. 

He thought he knew what Laurie needed too; she needed a man who would care for her, protect her, and manage her affairs. He'd be that man.

++++++++++++

Carroll lolled back in his old easy chair. He had it all figured out. He'd dedicated his life to the manipulation and management of others. Laurie was a child in an adult's body. She lacked the maturity, the determination, the will to see anything through. She needed someone to guide and regulate her life. Peter was a hard worker, a comer, but he was essentially a nobody. He needed opportunity, someone with leverage who could open doors, a person who could be a benefactor, pave the way. Carroll would be that benefactor. He would shape and mold Peter; then Peter would guide, regulate, and restrain Laurie. It all made sense. 

++++++++++++

Did it make sense? Could everybody get everything they wanted?



Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 04



Peter took excellent care of Laurie; he did all the things a caring loving husband would have done, the only exception being they weren't married. He thought about that often, and if he'd asked her he would have found out she thought about it too. It was as though they were made for each other.



After a little more than a week Laurie started to get cabin fever. She was still incredibly weak, but just the same she needed to get out. 

Finally, after twelve days inside being pampered and coddled she dropped the bomb, "Peter I need to get out."





He looked her over with circumspective concern, "Are you sure you're up to it?"



She retreated slightly, "I'd like to go to the store. Nothing special, maybe a couple shops at the mall on the main highway. I'd like to get over to my parents' condo where I was staying; if nothing else just to throw out the stale milk."



"I'll drive you."



"I'd like that."



Feeling more comfortable since she agreed to let him drive he got her up and helped her dress. Since she'd been sick he'd slipped out to the mall once or twice and bought her a couple outfits he thought she might like, things he thought she'd look good in, "I have a couple things you might like to try on. I mean if that's all right?"



"OK," was her almost sheepish response; she liked Peter so much, and for the most part she liked what he'd gotten her. They were all comfortable and warm, but none of the things she'd seen and worn thus far were the kinds of things she'd choose to wear out in public. She had to face it; so far it looked like when it came to women's apparel he had pretty poor taste.



He smiled, and perhaps a little over eagerly slipped over to the closet. He opened the bi-fold door and pulled out three large plastic bags, "I stopped at one of those dress shops at the mall you mentioned the other day and picked up some things for you. I don't know. I guess I wanted to surprise you. You know cheer you up a little. I hope you like some of this stuff." 



Laurie got up and went to the closet. She wanted to be kind. Peter had been so good to her; she loved him so much. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt his feelings. She pulled out the first plastic bag.



Peter offered, "I just bought these things on a wild hunch. If you don't like them it won't hurt my feelings. I don't know anything about this kind of thing."



She gave him a soft warm smile, "I'm sure they're all nice." She opened the first bag, and started to lay the outfit on the bed. It was beautiful. 



The outfit was a multi-piece affair. There was a modestly pleated wool kilt miniskirt replete with large brooch and belt. It was a dark green plaid with black highlights. The skirt was accompanied by a light cloth blouse of some kind of brushed wool or better quality linen. It felt soft, lightweight, and comfortable; a pale tan button up with a pretty peter-pan collar. The last piece was a real marvel; a heavy and warm looking V-necked woolen sweater of the palest green. She looked at the tag inside; it read Australian Merino. This had to be the softest, thickest, and certainly most expensive sweater she'd ever seen; she suddenly realized it was hers. The rest of the outfit, the fine leather loafers, knee-high stockings, leather purse with matching wallet, white cotton camisole and panties were all after thoughts. 



Laurie looked up at Peter with watery eyes, "This is so beautiful. I'm afraid to see what else you've gotten me."



Excited, he answered, "Go ahead, look."



Laurie opened the second plastic bag. This was a far different outfit. She held up the first piece. If every woman needed her own little black dress; she'd found hers. It was black, knee length, made of some soft sheer cloth, not silk, not cotton, some kind of low lustrous blend. It was beautiful. It had a round transparent neck line and equally transparent short sleeves both trimmed in perfect black piping. Sort of a semi empire waist with a wide shimmery black waist; it looked perfect. Accompanying the dress was a black leather clutch purse, black panty hose, black bra slip and panties. All in all it was another perfect outfit.



All that was left was the third plastic bag. She opened it and found a knee length brown suede winter coat trimmed with a fleece collar; another perfect choice.



Laurie put the coat down and looked at the other two sets of apparel, "Peter how could you? I mean how did you manage? I mean, they're all beautiful. I don't know what to say." 



He gleamed, "You wanted to go out. Would you like to wear one of these?"



"Oh yes. I'll wear the kilt set today." She skipped over and kissed him on the cheek. She hesitated, "You know all this time you haven't let me explain about..."



He stopped her again for probably the fortieth time, "I know what happened. We can talk about it later this week."



Laurie was content, "Let's go to the mall."



He smiled, "OK."



Together they dressed and went down to his freshly cleaned truck. 





++++++++++++





Laurie had fantasized about this day ever since she'd become aware of what Peter had been up to. Since he brought her to his condo he'd been such a loving wonderful person, a real Prince Charming.



He bathed her, shampooed and combed her hair, rubbed her body with lanolin and other creams. Her skin hadn't felt this soft since she couldn't remember. He'd gone to great lengths to decorate her from time to time; he put make up on her face, painted her finger and toe nails, and laced ribbons and bows in her hair. She sort of felt she'd become his fantasy toy. He'd even incrementally trimmed her privates till at the end she was as bare as a baby. Actually she liked it, all the attention, she didn't quite know what to make of some of the more peculiar things though, like the trim and shave. 



She guessed all in all it was good with one important exception; she was still, after all, a woman. He'd lavished all this attention on her for over a week without once trying to complete the job. Laurie had to admit it; she was horny, as horny as hell. He'd been rubbing and caressing her in her most intimate places without once taking the next step. She needed relief.



That's what made this day so special. She wanted to go to the mall, buy him a pair of silk pajamas, a silk scarf for a blindfold, and buy herself the sexiest slinkiest nightie she could find. She was going to take him back to her parent's condo and make mad passionate love. She was going to make him the most satisfied man in eight states!



She remembered how her friends in college and at work had talked about all the weird and kinky things they'd done with their boyfriends; the oral sex, the petting, and the other stuff with food and creams. That's what she had in mind. It would be the big pay back. She'd turn him on, light him up, and together they'd burn to the ground. She knew he had his fantasies; well she had a few too.



What she wanted to do was experiment with oral sex. Some of her girlfriends had talked about the things they did. One girl; she couldn't remember her name, said she liked to kneel on the floor in front of her boyfriend, pull out his thing and slowly rub her tongue around it. She told Laurie that men liked that kind of undivided attention, and the kneeling thing gave them a sense of power, like having a helpless woman at their feet made them more masculine. Laurie didn't know for sure, but one thing she did know, she wanted to please Peter. She wanted him to feel manly, and if that meant being on her knees at his feet and kissing his penis then she'd do it.





++++++++++++





They reached the mall and both got out. Laurie warned Peter to stay at the coffee shop while she went to a couple stores. She promised she wouldn't be long, just long enough to get a few things.



He assured her he'd stay put. As she walked away he decided he better check in. What happened, the day he brought Laurie to his place he made a call to her parents. He didn't plan on going behind her back, but he felt they were her mom and dad, and they needed to at least know she was sick and he was taking care of her. Since that first phone call he'd made it a point to periodically call in with progress reports. 



Over the course of the first four or five days he and Laurie's father had become acquainted, then sort of casual friends. Their telephone conversations had run the gamut; Carroll had explained how Sally had gotten involved and how the portfolio had come into Laurie's possession. He'd offered what he considered honest explanations as to how his son and his business partners had gotten involved in Peter's business.  Carroll had told Peter a lot about Laurie's past; her childhood and growing up years, college, and her half hearted attempts to assert her independence. In fact Carroll had offered to help to help Peter if he should want to continue working down at the beach or if he wanted to return to the city and go on from there. 



Peter felt he'd learned a lot from Laurie's father. He'd come to better understand Laurie's past, her personality, and some of her peculiarities; not the least of which was the disorganized way Carroll described her efforts to come to terms with adulthood. Yes, thanks to Carroll, Peter believed he'd really come to understand the girl he'd fallen in love with. He believed he understood her needs, and he thought he understood how best to make her happy. 



Laurie, to the best of Peter's understanding, and thanks again to Carroll, needed lots of attention, especially the kind of warm compassionate attention he'd come to enjoy giving her. Moreover, he'd come to understand and accept her subliminal need for guidance and leadership. Laurie was the kind of sweet loving will-o-the-wisp who would best thrive when clear and firm boundaries were in place. He loved her so much; he was ready to provide her with the life framework she so desperately, though unconsciously, craved. 



Oh yes, he'd care for her, love her, cherish her, guide her, and when necessary restrain her. He'd give love and structure to her heretofore undisciplined life.





++++++++++++





Laurie drifted off through the mall. Several of the stores were closed for the winter season, but most had remained open, and on this particular morning business seemed brisk. She went first to one of the better men's shops where she bought Peter a nice pair of silk pajamas. They were dark blue with white piping around the collar and the sleeves. She bought him a pair of slippers, and for herself she bought a silk bandana which she intended to use as his blindfold. Then she located her favorite boutique. She purchased a couple blouses, a pair of jeans, some extra wool socks, and another pair of tennis shoes. Mostly she worked her way through the negligee racks until she found exactly what she wanted. She tried it on, and had them wrap it up. She wanted to keep it in a box so Peter wouldn't try to see what she got.





++++++++++++





Laurie had it all figured out. She'd take Peter back to her condominium; blindfold, dress him in the pajamas, and force him to sit in the big lazy boy her father had bought. Then she'd put on the negligee and give Peter the surprise of his life. Somewhere along the way she'd make him so receptive, that when she explained how she had the folder about his family he'd think the whole thing was funny. They'd reaffirm their relationship. He'd follow up with a formal request for marriage; a request she'd accept after several moments of pretended reflection. They'd set a day and date. They'd invite all their family and friends, and start life together; two people in love, ready to build a home and a life for their first child. 



Laurie was pleased with herself. Everyone would see them as a real couple; two people in love and equal in every way. 



Laurie came back and found Peter, "Come on, I've got a surprise for you."



"A surprise, what?"



"Drive me to my parent's condo, and I'll show you."



Uh oh thought Peter, her parents were there and she doesn't know it, "OK, it'll be fun."



They loaded her parcels in the back of his pick-up, and drove across the bridge to the mainland side of the bay. He drove north along the west-side highway, and turned into the cull de sac where her parents place was.



Laurie thought it odd that Peter knew right where to go. She asked, "You know where my parent's place is?"



He thought fast, "I had to get something out of your wallet while you were feverish. I saw this address; I assumed what it was. I've done some work around here, and so finding it is no mystery."



Laurie didn't think another thing about it. They pulled in the front driveway. He got out, walked around, and helped her from the truck. As they both started for the handsome double door that opened into the front vestibule someone turned a light on inside the house. It was the middle of the day, but still having a light on wasn't that big a deal. She assumed it must be one of the cleaning people. They got paid whether anyone was using the place or not.



They reached the front door and Laurie rummaged around in her new pocketbook for the key. As she reached for the door it opened. There standing in front of her was her father.



Carroll held the door wide and gestured, "Hi honey bun, come on in."



Damn, thought Laurie! This ruins everything, "Daddy, you're here!"



He looked at her and smiled, "So is your mother." He took her arm and gently pulled her in. Peter followed.



Carroll smiled at Peter, "You must be Peter. We've talked so much lately. I knew it was you right away."



Laurie gave Peter a confused look, "You've talked with my father?"



Peter was stuck, "I felt like I had to call your parents. You were so sick."



"You've been on the phone with mother too?"



"No, just your dad," he looked over at Carroll, "he's really nice."



Laurie was a little at odds with herself. It made sense he'd call her parents, but it didn't make sense too. She was a grown woman, just turned thirty. He had no special affinity with regard to her mom and dad. He didn't even like them, or that's what she thought. It occurred to her he probably didn't even have their number. He must have gotten it through her cell phone.



Laurie looked at her dad, "Is mom here too?"



"She's out shopping. She won't be long."



Laurie was always a little suspicious when it came to her parents. They always meant well, but they meddled too much. She wondered what they might be up to. She put that aside. She still thought she might be able to carry through with her plan for Peter. Her room upstairs was spacious, and it had a large comfortable chair. 



She took Peter's free hand, as his other hand was holding her bags. She looked at her dad, "Dad, Peter and I are going upstairs for a while. Don't bother us. We'll be down later.



Her dad smiled benignly, "Sure Sugar Plum."



She hated those pet names he used. He just wouldn't quit. She was more than a decade past the honey bun and sugar plum stuff, "Promise now, stay away."



Her father put his hand over his heart. He knew what she wanted, "Cross my heart." Still he wondered what was up with her. The two of them had been together at Peter's place for quite a while. She was acting like they were a couple of rabbits.



Laurie took Peter upstairs to her room. She opened the door and led the way in. At first glance she cringed. She'd forgotten nothing had been seriously done in her room since she was in middle school. It had the look of a child's room



Peter followed her in. He cast about, and knew immediately she was probably a little embarrassed, "Nice room. You've had it a long time."



She caught the inference and saw his silly smile, "Don't get smart. I spent most of my summers here." 



Still wearing a silly grin he replied, "I like it, seems to have that warm homey look."



She walked over and put her arms around him, and started to pull off his coat, "The girl who lived in this room was a virgin."



He helped her get his coat off, and then started to unfasten the clasps to her new suede coat. Though they'd had sex, and she had the baby inside her to prove it he chided, "She still is I'll bet."



Laurie had his shirt half unbuttoned, "Not for long."



As she pulled his shirt off, he undid the belt that held up her skirt. He wanted to say something. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, that she was adorable, that he worshiped the ground she walked on, that she just glowed in his eyes. He didn't though; what he did say was totally stupid, "Are you hitting on me?"



She had her hand on his belt buckle, "About as hard as I can."



He grinned sheepishly, "Don't worry, it's hard."

Laurie turned him around and pushed him back on the bed. One part of her mind kept reminding her about the pajamas and the negligee; another compartment kept telling her how wet and excited she was. She got his boxers down, "Let me see."



He lay back on the bed.



Laurie was a little scared. This was the very first time ever she'd tried anything like this. She looked at his manhood. It certainly was hard. She thought it looked really big; bigger even than the first time she'd got a glimpse of it, talk about a foot long hot dog! She reached out her left hand. She thought she'd touch it first. She wanted to see what would happen.



Peter was on his back, head propped on two pillows. He watched her guardedly. He was sexually so totally aroused, but he wondered if he should let her try anything, after all her parents were downstairs. He felt like he was back in high school.



Laurie's skirt was down around her ankles, but she still had on her pretty new sweater and blouse. It seemed a little chilly so she decided not to take anything else off. For a second she wondered if that was very smart. What if he? No, she looked at his thing; it was aimed up at his chest. If anything happened it would squirt off toward him. 



Peter watched her carefully. If she wanted to, he'd let her do it. Later they could make some really serious love. Then he thought, no, he'd let her touch him a little, then he'd pull her up. She had to get out of her clothes. He didn't want a mess. It might be embarrassing for her and her parents' later if, well.



Laurie looked up at Peter. He was so handsome. They were going to have a beautiful baby, she just knew it. She touched him again. She took her left hand and rubbed up and down on his thing. Gee, it was so big, and wow it was really hard. She leaned up to get a closer look, and maybe to just touch it with her lips.



Peter had been living a monks life since he'd run out of Laurie's that dreary Thanksgiving. For sure, he wasn't sixteen anymore; wet dreams and masturbation were a part of his past, but he wasn't dead, not yet. He was sure, if something didn't happen, and happen pretty fast, he'd be a goner. He started to think, 'come on Laurie!'



Laurie got up real close. She took the tip of her index finger and touched the very end of his thing. She leaned her head in real close. She thought, 'This is really exciting! Look how big it is, and how pink!' She thought she'd give him what the girl's called a blow job. She puckered up and blew a jet of hot air on it.



Peter lost it. Out of control he ejaculated! It came out in torrents; hot, wet, creamy, and sticky. It flew straight up in the air. He tried to move to keep anything from getting on Laurie. 



She watched in awe and wonder as his thing exploded. All his sperm came gushing out. She tried to jump back and up out of the way. 



In the instant the two of them both maneuvered; both squirming to try to avoid exactly the same thing, exactly the opposite occurred. Laurie in her spontaneous effort to avert his semen, and his desperate attempt to protect her apparel resulted in exactly the juxtaposition. She flew right into the trajectory of the onrushing fluid. His yellow-white sperm wafted over her sweater and the top of her blouse like a garden hose watering flowers in the springtime.




Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 04



Laurie leaped backward, but the damage was complete. She had sperm on her face, in her hair, on the collar of her blouse, down her throat, and all over her pretty wool sweater. She tried to wipe it off, but instantly realized the folly of that decision. She only managed to spread the sticky gooey mess all over into new terrain. 



Peter watched half ashamed but also a little bit gleeful. He'd given Laurie a facial, and in spite of the damage, he thought she looked pretty good. She was, at that precise moment, every man's most perverted wet dream, a beautiful girl wearing expensive clothes covered in her man's semen.



Peter tried to lean forward to help, "Laurie I'm so sorry."



Laurie leaned back and stood up off the bed, "Oh, this stuff is awful. It stinks. It smells like Comet Cleanser! Peter! How could you?"



"I'm sorry honey. It's been a long time and..." The rest of his appeal was interrupted by a tap on the bedroom door.



The door squeaked open. It was Laurie's mother, "Laurie I...Oh!" The door was slammed shut as fast as it had been opened.



Laurie looked at the door. She looked back at Peter. She looked down at her soiled sweater and blouse, "Peter!"



He looked at her aghast.



She burst out laughing, "Peter what are we ever going to do?"



He started laughing too, "Well you're the Catholic. I guess we'll have to go to church and light some candles."



She stopped laughing, "That wasn't funny." She got up and walked toward the bathroom.



He followed, "Laurie I didn't..."



She turned around. Wiped some of his stuff off her face and rubbed it on his cheeks, "You animal!"



"I love you Laurie."



"And I love you."



Together they went into the bathroom, and went to work on the clean up. They got completely undressed, wiped away as much of the hardening stuff as they could. Then they used a warm damp soapy washcloth to get as much of the rest off as possible. 



Standing in the bathroom completely naked they decided to take a shower together. The water was hot. They soaped each other up and washed each other down; in the process they discovered a completely new way to enjoy the hot running water. Laurie was much shorter than Peter, and once again he was very much aroused. She had to stand on tip toes as their bodies pressed together. It was a completely new experience for both; with the hot spray washing over them, him deep inside, his hands holding her close, her arms wrapped tightly around his back and shoulders, they were closer and more deeply in love than they'd ever felt before.





++++++++++++





They showered and afterward got dressed again. There was sperm all over her pretty sweater. Peter took a wash cloth and worked diligently to clean as much of it off as he could. He held her arms in front of her waist and together they looked in the mirror. Neither could see any sign of their earlier foible.



Peter turned her around. He brushed her hair away from her lovely face, "I guess we better go down." 



Laurie leaned up and kissed him, "You first."



Together they jounced out of the bedroom and down to the steps. Laurie's mom and dad were sitting in the living room watching the weather report.



Laurie's mom, avoiding eye contact, haphazardly commented, "It's going to be another cold one."



Carroll looked up at Laurie and Peter, "Laurie, what's that on your sweater?'



Autumn blushed and turned away.



Laurie pretended to look down as if concerned. She looked back, "Oh darn, toothpaste."



Carroll smiled, "Well maybe you better wipe it off. You're already pregnant."



It was Laurie's turn to blush.



Peter changed the subject, "How long have the two of you been down here?"



Carroll replied, "I...we came down right after you called. I wished you would have called earlier. The doctor you got is a good old guy, but I would rather have had a specialist."



Laurie started to say something in defense of the old man but Peter cut her off. He said, "I like him. He's a good man, but if I'd known there was someone better I'd have gotten them. Maybe I should have called you right away?"



Laurie's mom contributed, "I don't trust that old buzzard. All he knows how to do is prescribe aspirin."



Laurie got a word in, "I like him."



Carroll smiled at her warmly if not somewhat condescendingly, "He's a good man, just not for you."



Laurie ignored the remark.



Peter looked at his watch and offered, "Why don't we go out, get a bite to eat?"



Carroll answered, "Good idea. We can hit the deli over on the eastern bay side." He smiled at Laurie, "what's it called? You know the place we used to take you when you were a little girl."



"You mean Bucks," was Laurie's not very enthusiastic answer.



"Yes," said Carroll, "Bucks; you'll like it Peter. They make a great Reuben."



Laurie thought about Buck's deli. It had been a place her parents liked to take her when she was much younger, a preteen in fact. Her older brother always seemed to find a way to get out of it, and she'd end up sitting between her parents in a booth. To say it wasn't her favorite place would have been an understatement. She added, "There's another place..."



Peter cut her off, "I've been to Buck's I like it; they a great dark ale."



Carroll ended it, "OK, Buck's it is. Autumn get our coats." He looked at Peter, "You help Laurie into hers."



Peter already had her coat out for her, "Here you go doll baby."



She inwardly cringed. Cringed! When did she start to become doll baby?



The two couples stepped outside. Since Peter's truck wouldn't have been appropriate they went for Carroll's Mercedes. As they approached the shiny silver vehicle Carroll suggested, "Peter why don't you sit up front with me. We can talk."



Peter smiled as he opened a rear door for Laurie's mom, "Sounds great." With her elbow crooked in his hand he walked Laurie around to the other side of the car, opened the other rear door, and helped her in. As she got in he cupped her head in his hand to make sure she didn't bump it. He cajoled, "We've got to be careful with mu baby girl." Laurie slid in, 'baby girl!' She cringed. Then he got in the passenger's front seat opposite Carroll.



The drive to the deli wasn't far. Up front Peter and Carroll started to talk about the housing and construction market back in the city. Carroll made several suggestions about how Peter could get back in. Carroll knew several people who'd help him get at some pretty lucrative jobs. Peter was all ears. It sounded like opportunity was at the door.



Laurie and her mom sat in the back seat. Autumn had a lot on her mind, "I suppose you're going to marry the boy up there?" pointing to Peter in the front seat.



Laurie answered, "I suppose so."



"You suppose."



"Oh mother, you know I am."



"Well you don't sound too sure?"



"I'm sure."



"Have you decided on a gown?"



"No."



"Good you can wear mine."



Laurie looked up at her mother and then out the window past her, "I haven't decided..."



The men must have been listening in. Carroll interjected, "Peter you should have seen Autumn on our wedding day. She was beautiful. We got married in the Basilica. Enormous wedding, terrific reception; we had it all."



Peter looked at Carroll, then back at Laurie. Laurie seemed to be preoccupied. He guessed she was fantasizing about a big wedding of her own, "I'd like a big wedding. My sister had nothing, and my mom had even less. They'd love it, and I'd like it too."



Laurie listened in disbelief. The last thing she wanted was a big wedding. Heck she'd be showing. Plus she didn't like most of the people who'd be invited. A small ceremony, a short honeymoon, and a new beginning, that's what she wanted for her and Peter. She spoke up, "I don't know..."



Her mom cut her off, "We'll get Margie's Gown Shop to fit the dress. You'll look terrific."



Laurie started to say something, but her dad ignored her, "Better get a guest list started. I want everybody, and I mean everybody to be there."



Peter was flushed with excitement, "This is great."



Laurie spoke up, "Peter we need..."



He smiled back at her, "Look we're at the eatery." He jumped out and opened Laurie's mom's door then ran around and got Laurie's.





++++++++++++





The four of them walked into the restaurant. It was a little late for lunch, but the manager owner recognized the older couple, and he thought he recognized the girl, "Gee it's good to see you people. "I'm so glad you came."



Carroll gave the man an avuncular nod, "We love it here."



The owner led them to a booth, "How's this?"



Autumn looked at Laurie, "You remember our special booth don't you?"



"Yeah mom, I remember."



Autumn slid in first, then Laurie. Peter and Carroll took the outer seats.



Peter looked around, "This is nice."



A waitress came over. "Can I get you something to drink?"



Carroll looked at Peter, "An ale?"



Peter smiled, "Great."



Carroll looked at the waitress, "We'll have two ales, a whiskey sour for my wife, and make it a ginger ale for our little girl."



Laurie blushed, "Dad!"



Carroll grinned, "No alcohol for you dear. You know."



Peter gave her an indulgent smile, "That's right baby doll. We have to think of the little one you know."



Laurie looked down at her water glass and napkin, "That' not it. I just thought I might order my own drink."



Peter reached over and held her hand, "Ginger ale's good."



Laurie looked away. She didn't say anything.



Lunch went along smoothly. Carroll got a Reuben. Autumn got a shrimp salad. Peter got a crab cake, and ordered the same for her. The food really was quite good, but Peter wouldn't let her eat her own potato chips, something about grease and the baby. They all had a small dessert. Carroll and Autumn both got apple pie ala mode. Peter got cherry pie, and ordered Laurie a single scoop of sherbet. She liked the sherbet, but would have preferred a piece of pie.





++++++++++++





After lunch they all went back to the condominium. Everyone insisted Laurie take a nap. She willingly agreed. It had been a busy and tiring morning and afternoon, and she felt head-achy. Besides she wanted some idle time to reflect on what seemed to be going on. 



Her parents had surfaced apparently as a result of some contact with Peter. That made sense, but she needed to sort some of the other things out. It sounded like Peter and her dad had done more than just talk about her health. In fact it sounded like her father was putting the move on Peter. She'd seen him in action in the past. Her dad was a wonderful man, but he was something of a control freak. It wouldn't surprise her one bit if he wasn't maneuvering Peter into some sort of arrangement, probably professional, but personal too maybe. 

Laurie knew her dad. He was clever. He could angle Peter right into a box, and if he disapproved of Peter, he might even try to manipulate him right out of her life. Yeah, her old dad was a sly one; given the time and the right incentives he could do almost anything. She'd have to keep her eyes and ears wide open, stay alert; she didn't want to see Peter shifted away, not without a fight. 



While Laurie was quietly asleep upstairs Carroll, Peter, and Autumn sat downstairs in the kitchen and discussed the future.



Carroll looked at Peter from across the kitchen table, "I like you Pete. You've got spunk."



"Thank you Mr. Stanton. I like you too."



"Call me Carroll. You don't mind if I call you Pete do you. Peter sounds a little childish. Don't you agree?"



"A lot of the men call me Pete. Pete, Peter, I don't mind, as long as I don't get called too late for supper." He laughed slightly.



Carroll grinned at the young man. He thought, nice fellow, probably a hard worker, maybe a little superficial, certainly a little on the flighty side, absolutely manageable, "Tell me Pete, what would you think if I helped you get your company moving a little faster."



Pete sobered, "It's not just my company. I have a partner, and we've been doing better now since the recession started to fade. What did you have in mind?"



Carroll gave Peter his best concerned look, "You've known Laurie only a short time. She's a girl who needs security; not just a happy home, but security in other ways as well. You don't know her like we do. What's the word you young people use? Issues; yes, Laurie has issues."



Peter was surprised, and the look of alarm must have been obvious, "Issues; what do you mean?"



Carroll started, "Well, we've had her under a doctor's care from time to time, nothing too serious, just little things."



Autumn spoke up, "We don't want to scare you. Laurie's been institutionalized once. You might have noticed she can get erratic when she gets upset."



Peter listened with alarm, "Institutionalized? When? Where? What for?"



Carroll sagely looked over at his wife.



Autumn began to digress, "Laurie had always been a high strung easily manipulated child. When she went off to school in up state New York we had no idea the problems the school we selected had been having. There were so many problems."



Peter, eyes wide, eyebrows uplifted, asked, "Problems?"



Autumn went on, "Yes, we sent her to an all girls' facility. We wanted to protect her from the harsher aspects of life for as long as possible, but it seemed this particular girls' school was paired off with a nearby all boys' prep school. We found out much later this particular boys' school had a terrible reputation for all kinds of unseemly things. You can imagine; drugs, wanton sex parties, lurid picnics, all kinds of things. Well our innocent little Laurie got all mixed up with some of those boys. The next thing she was taking drugs, missing classes, and riding around in fast cars. Thank God we found out before something really dreadful happened. As it was..."



Carroll interrupted, "I'm afraid you're getting into too much detail so let me finish." He gently put his hand on his wife's wrist as if to calm her down, "Laurie got too involved with this one group of boys. It was one of those groups...maybe you've heard...they target girls for sex. It's like a game to them. Well Laurie was on this most wanted list. They got a hold of her. There was this one boy. Well... Drugs and alcohol were involved. Laurie had a nervous breakdown. We arranged to send her to a school in Switzerland where she could recover. It's been kind of touch and go ever since."



Peter listened, but wasn't too sure he believed it all. He knew there wasn't anything wrong with Laurie. Then he looked more closely at the two people in front of him. That wasn't true. There was a lot wrong with Laurie, and he knew what it was, her mother, father, brother, and probably the sister.



Autumn picked it up, "She's been in a frail emotional state ever since."



Peter sat back, "I see." He looked at his watch, "Look I want to get back to my condominium. I have some cleaning to do. Tell Laurie I'll be by later." He got up, found his coat, and sidled toward the door. As he went to close the door he turned, "Tell Laurie I'll be by later this afternoon." Then he left.



Carroll and Autumn stood at the window and watched Peter pull away. They gave each other two mutually knowing looks. They figured that was probably the end of Peter. They'd get their Laurie back. It was time now to find a way to either get rid of the fetus or find Laurie someone more suitable.



Carroll winked, "That's probably just about it for our young Mr. Peter."



Autumn smiled, "I hope so. He's just not the right fit.



Carroll put his arm around his wife, "I know. I know."





++++++++++++





Peter got in his truck and started to laugh. He'd never heard such a stupid heap of shit in his life. What did they think he was born last week? He'd met some crazy people, but this group took the cake. No wonder Laurie had moved out. He drove down the road. He'd tidy things up. Go back later, and pick her up. He knew what he needed to do.




From the writer: 



Of course this is not the end, but I'll tell you what it is, or was. This was roughly where I left off before Christmas. Regrettably I started to experience writer's block. You see I really like Peter and Laurie. I just can't seem to let them go. They are such a happy loving couple; ideally suited to be together. However, there will be many more twists and turns. I hope you'll stay with us. See you in two weeks! 



You can vote if you want. Better still! Tell me what you think might happen.



Love in the Cross Hairs



She answered, "Hardly anybody wears it anymore. It's really quite inexpensive. My mother used to wear it. I just liked the bouquet. It's called Wind Song."

"Wind Song," he said, "I'll remember that." He held out his arm and walked her down the stairs to where his pick-up truck was waiting.

When they reached the truck he apologized, "I'm sorry about the transportation. I had two cars not long ago, a sports car and a larger sedan, but when the economy went south I had to dump them. This is all I have left now, and honestly, I don't date any more so it's all I need."

Laurie looked at the truck. It was, she guessed, maybe a 2006 Chevrolet extended cab. It looked clean, and though when he helped her in she was sitting pretty high, it was comfortable and gave a good view of the road.

After he climbed in the driver's side she said, "This is a very nice truck. I like it."

He smiled. She seemed pretty easy to please; that he figured was either because she really was easy to please or because she had an ulterior motive. Being a woman he concluded it was most likely the second. 

He turned on the ignition, "Off we go."

The drive to the Olive Garden wasn't very far, only a mile or two. Neither said anything as they drove.

She glanced over a couple time and discreetly got a look at the guy who was taking her out. He was clean shaven, hair a little long and still a little scruffy. He had good features. He was clean and tidy. He had on a pair of tan jeans, a light blue long sleeved button down shirt; the top two buttons were undone revealing a clean white Tee shirt underneath. He was wearing a tan belt; she guessed probably a thirty-four inch waist. Interestingly he had on penny loafers and white tube socks.

He had some kind of perfume on too. She commented, "Old Spice?"

"Is it OK?"

"Yes."

As they continued driving she concluded, no Beau Brummel, but he still looked good. Laurie decided he was a nice guy. She liked him.

Peter caught a couple good looks at Laurie when he helped her with her coat, and while they walked down the steps. She had on a white blouse. It buttoned up the front. She'd left the top three buttons undone; he thought it was sexy but not wanton. The blouse had one of those rounded kind of collars; peter pan collars he thought, but this one was a little different. It wasn't all tight or stiff looking. There wasn't any lace, no ruffles, but it had a soft airy quality; a little larger than most collars like that, but not real large. It was loose, comfortable looking. It wasn't a short sleeved blouse, but not long sleeved either. The cuffs were small and came to just above her wrists. The blouse was clearly some kind of soft cotton, but the sleeves were made of something finer. They were slightly translucent. 

She was wearing a navy blue pleated mini-skirt that came to just above her knees. She had on a pair of dark blue nylons and a dark, almost black pair of high heeled, actually low heeled, only an inch or so, shoes that were held in place by a thin front strap that crossed the top of her foot. 

She carried a small handbag. He remembered his old girlfriend called it a clutch purse. He really liked her hair. He could see how thick it was, and she'd tied it off in a tight bun, probably the way she kept it for work. It gave him a good look at her long thin neck, the wispy loose tendrils that swirled around her neck, and her delicate shoulders.

They reached the restaurant. He helped her from the truck, and used his left hand to escort her to the door by gently holding her right elbow. He opened the door, and saw they'd certainly have to wait. The place was jammed with people. 

The hostess said it would be about a fifteen minute wait, so they decided to stick it out. While they waited, Laurie sat while he stood beside and a little behind her; it gave him another chance to look her over. She was really demure; what with her hands folded in her lap, feet and legs together, skirt resting comfortably just above her knees. 

It wasn't that long and pretty soon they were at a nice table off in a corner. He couldn't have picked a better spot.

He helped her to her seat, and sat opposite her. He asked, "So tell me what you do like."

Laurie was pleased that he was interested in her. She knew some guys were only interested in sex, but she had a hunch Peter was different. She took a few minutes to tell him about her work with computers, and the ways they were able to use them to save people and the company time, trouble, and money. She thought he was very attentive. She liked that; a lot of guys she'd met would just sit and wait so they could talk about themselves. 

The whole time she talked all he thought about was how pretty she looked, not what he heard. He liked looking at her face, the way she expressed herself, the way her eyebrows rose and fell. She had a sweet smile. He checked out her hands. She had tiny hands, not long claws like some girls, and not pudgy little paws others had, her hands and fingers were all prim and proper. She'd put some kind of colored nail polish on, that was obvious, but he couldn't figure out the shade. It took him a few minutes until he realized she had a hue on her fingernails that, though lighter, almost exactly matched the violet in her eyes. It was really quite nice. He told her, "Hey, the shade of your fingernail polish matches your eyes. That's neat."

Laurie was delighted. It was something she wore all the time around work, but nobody ever noticed. I pleased her that he caught it, and it took away some of the sting from the way he occasionally looked at her chest. 

She had little breasts. There wasn't too much she could do about it. Enlargement was out of the question. She relied on push up and sometimes padded bras, but nothing else. She knew it; she was stuck with a flat chest. His observances, no matter how subtle, made her self-conscious, but his notice of the nail polish was a pleasant surprise.

Peter liked the way she carried herself. He was having a terrible time keeping from staring at her chest. She was built so exquisitely; small, compact, and feminine. Yes, she had little breasts, but under that blouse he could see the way they moved. There was a girlish sail a sweet feminine undulation to every move she made. He had to keep his concentration on her face; otherwise he'd get excited watching her move. He wondered if she knew the effect she was having. Heck, of course she did, women knew that sort of thing.

They had a good meal. After first quietly inquiring as to what Laurie liked Peter ordered for both. They got the house Caesar salad, a carafe of red wine, buttered garlic bread, and two orders of lasagna. They talked for a while, enjoying the wine. Then when their entrées came they both ate in relative silence.

Laurie was famished, but still tried to be careful. She knew she was making a pig of herself, eating so fast, taking such large bites, but she was so hungry, and it tasted so good. She watched Peter eat; he ate like a man, one swift sucking sound and his was all gone. She liked to see a man eat. She liked to cook; maybe he'd let her cook him something some time. She sort of doubted it though. She didn't think, after tonight, he'd want to bother with her again. She could tell, this was a guy with a dozen girls waiting by the phone. This was just a thank you for submitting a statement. 

Peter watched her eat. Was she ever dainty; no gulping or smooshing for her, she took small portions, ate them slowly, and sipped her wine or water. She was certainly something. 

He liked her, liked her a lot. She was pretty, dainty, ladylike, a good listener, and probably pretty good in other ways too. He put those thoughts out of his mind; somehow thinking of her like that seemed wrong. 

He'd like to take her out again, but figured why bother. He knew women. They were all after the same thing, and his big time days were in the past. Here he was, just on the north side of thirty, and already washed up. No, he'd play it safe, no more chances, no more big deals, no more in over his head and no more pot luck with the women. 

Too bad though, he bet he could go for her. Here he was; he had this perfect little person across from him, and he was giving up without even a try. 

Dinner was over. He walked her back to the truck, and drove her home. Finally, back at her door he was ready to say goodnight. He stood there awkwardly at her door, arms at his side. He felt really stupid, "Well I guess this is goodnight."

She smiled, "Yes, I guess so." She would have liked to have invited him in, but this was a first date. She wasn't the forward type. Poop. She thought, she wasn't any type; just an old maid in training. He was a good looking guy, nice to be with. She liked him, but figured this was probably it. 

He didn't leave right away; she hesitated a little, "I had a good time."

He answered, "Yeah, the Olive Garden has good food."

"Yes they do. I liked the wine. I'm glad you ordered the lasagna for both of us." She wanted to tell him, though she liked the food, she would have liked any food, she especially liked the company. That's what she wanted to say, but it never came out.

He smiled again, reached down, took her hand and shook it, "Well good bye."

She didn't want to say good bye, but shook his hand, "Thank you, I had a really nice time."

He stepped back away from the door, gave a low wave, and started down the steps.

She waved back with her fingers, and waited till she heard the front door close. She retreated back into her apartment, went over to her worn out old love seat and sat down, "Well you lost that one didn't you?"

Peter went down and got in his truck, started the engine, and drove off. As he drove back toward the Interstate he considered; why shouldn't he ask her out again? She was pretty, unattached, and obviously alone. If he played his cards right he might be able to get her to go out again; heck another date or two wasn't like a lifetime commitment. Sure, he could find a way to get her to go out again, maybe something might come of it; anything would beat the cold showers every night.

He started to weigh the opportunity costs. She was pretty, she'd been sweet company, she looked good on his arm, and she'd be great as a kind of trophy if he went out with friends or something. If he could hold off her natural manipulative instincts she'd be a pretty reliable date, of course, not some kind of 'significant other' never that again. Also, she knew computers and he didn't. He could use her expertise to help him improve his business, and he could do it at no cost, that would be no cost other than an occasional bunch of cheap flowers or a dinner.

Peter aggravated several motorists when he pulled his truck to the side of the road. He yanked out his cell phone, and touched in her number. He chuckled, he wasn't stupid this time; he'd logged her number into his contact list. Clever boy he thought.

Safely off to the side he waited for her to pick up the phone. After the third ring she answered, "Hello?"

"Hi, Laurie, this is Peter, remember me?"

"Yes, I remember you."

He could almost see in his mind's eye her smile at that inanity, "I thought maybe we could do something Sunday. Are you free?"

Laurie did smile at that. "She said wait a minute, let me check." It was a subterfuge. She waited five seconds and responded, "Well I go to mass in the morning, and later I might wash my hair"

Peter stifled a laugh, "How about three o'clock?"

Then Laurie did laugh, "Where are you taking me?"

He hadn't gotten that far. He thought fast, the major league baseball team was out of town, they were in last place anyway. Getting football tickets this late was out of the question, besides he wanted to impress her, "We could take the train to Washington and see the sights."

She thought, the last thing she wanted to do on her day off was walk all over the Washington Mall, "I might be able to get tickets to see the football game." Their company had several sets of season tickets. They were always asking her to take them, but she never had anybody to go with.

Peter was speechless. This girl had pull, football tickets for a Sunday game as late as a Friday night? He replied, "OK."

She replied, "Great, I'll have to skip mass, but if you get here say around ten, I might be able to swing a parking slot."

Jeez, Peter thought, the kids right on, "OK, see you at ten."

She answered, "Well goodnight Peter." She paused a second, "Oh, and thanks for calling back. I'm really glad you did."

He answered, "Me too."

He closed his phone, restarted his truck and sped off toward home. Not bad he thought, not bad at all.

Laurie immediately got on the phone with her boss. She was always the wimp, the milquetoast, but not tonight. She got her supervisor on the phone, "Bob I need two tickets for Sunday's football game."

He answered, "I only have two left, and I'm using them."

"Bob, I've never asked. I want those tickets." She heard him cuss on the other end.

"I'll leave them in the top of your desk drawer at work; I hope you have a good time."

She heard the mumbled curse word at the end of his comment. She didn't care; she was going to a football game with a nice guy. They'd have good seats, she was going to have fun; drink some more wine, eat crab dip, and cheer on the team, and do it with a guy named Peter. 

For a split second she allowed her mind to wander, Laurie Dawson, Mrs. Laurie Dawson, no forget it, just have fun at the game. She unbuttoned her blouse, slipped out of her skirt, nylons, panties, shoes, camisole, and bra, turned on the water, it was time for a nice hot soak in the tub. 

Peter got home and checked the paper. Should be a good game, they should win. He wondered, what should be his next step?

  'Football Sunday'

The next thing Peter knew it was football Sunday and he was back in front of Laurie's door, he knocked.

Laurie stepped out wearing white jeans, a lavender Tee-shirt and carrying the same windbreaker she'd had on Friday night.

"I have the tickets." She handed the two tickets to Peter, "I think they're pretty good."

Peter took the tickets; she was a good girl, let the man hold them. It was an ego thing; he'd pass them over at the gate. He looked down at the tickets, "Well if you call skybox seats on the fifty yard line good, then they're good, but I want to warn you, for anyone else they'd be considered super seats. How did you manage them?"

"Oh, I told the boss it was my turn. He couldn't refuse."

Peter laughed, "What you made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

Laurie, having never seen the Godfather didn't get the joke, "No, I've just put in so much overtime he had to agree."

Peter realized she didn't get the joke. It was novel, one of the top grossing films of all time, and she hadn't seen it. It was sort of cute too, there was this innocence there he couldn't get over, "Hey come on, we find someone to tailgate with."

Laurie smiled sheepishly, "I've never been to a tailgate party."

"Don't worry we'll find one."

They found a tailgate party not far from where they parked. Maybe a dozen people were there. Peter wangled Laurie an alcoholic Lemonade and a half of a pit beef sandwich. She ate, drank, and talked football with everyone there. Peter had been around professional football all his life. He'd been a little tyke but he remembered when his city lost their first team; he remembered the anger and the anguish. He watched Laurie; she was having a really good time. It occurred to him, she was having fun, and would have been even if he hadn't been there; that bothered him a little. For some reason he felt like he should be the reason for her fun. He didn't let on. But what he did like, though she seldom looked up at him or spoke directly to him, she clung to his arm. Every now and then she spoke to him, but mostly she just looked up and smiled.

Around twelve o'clock they, and the crew they were with, packed up the tailgate stuff and started to head for the stadium. He'd found out most of the people in this particular group were software geeks, several of them worked at her office, and a couple were even headed for their skybox.

The game was fun, and it went about as expected; there were sacks, fumbles, completed passes, good running plays, and touchdowns. Everyone screamed and cheered when the home team did something good, they booed and cried when the opposing team did something, and everybody hated the refs.

At last the game ended. Several people wanted to go out for drinks. Peter asked Laurie, but she said she was tired, and had a busy day ahead on Monday. He helped her get herself together, walked her back to his truck, and took her home.

They listened to radio highlights on the way. He and she talked over the finer points of the game; the big plays, the missed plays, the injuries.

When he got her back to her apartment he helped her up the stairs. Again together they were standing outside her door.

Peter spoke first, "Well here we are again."

She didn't know what to say, she knew what she wanted to say, but was still too scared to say it, "Yes here we are."

"I had a good time Laurie."

"I did too Peter."

He stood there.

She stood there.

He leaned forward.

She leaned forward.

Their lips touched. They kissed. Nothing else touched, no other body contact, just two lips; his firm but not hard, hers soft, tender, and yielding.

"Can I call you again, maybe take you out?"

She answered, "Sure, I'd like that."

"Sometime next weekend?"

"I'm free."

"Is there anything you'd like to do?"

"I don't care. I have an open mind."

He leaned forward and touched her lips with his again, "I'll call...real soon."

"I'll be here."

He backed away, gave another low wave, and jounced down the steps. 

After his truck pulled away Laurie called her sister, "Sally, I won't be available for babysitting next weekend."

"What why not?" came the startled voice on the other end.

"I think I'm going to be out on a date."

"All weekend?"

"I don't know. I'm keeping my options open."

Sally was concerned. She liked her sister; she liked the dependable free babysitting too, Laurie, let's get together sometime this week. I want you to tell me what's going on."

Laurie, still feeling dreamy, answered, "Sure."

   'Cloudy Skies'

Laurie's sister, Sally, had definite ideas about the kind of man her little her friend should marry. He couldn't be just anybody; he had to be man with a future, a man with expectations, from a good family, and most of all well connected. After all Laurie wasn't just anybody; she came from a storied family, one with a well-respected name, a name that hearkened back through the centuries. 

Sure their home state wasn't Massachusetts or Virginia, but the first settlers had arrived in the 1630's. Laurie could trace her ancestry to one of the first families. That might not mean much to a lot of people, and even to most people in the state it mattered for little anymore, but for a few, a select few, it still meant something. Laurie couldn't meet, fall in love, and marry beneath her station. Yes, she had to have a good old fashioned sit down with the girl, have a heart to heart, find out about this new person, and make sure he was acceptable. After all, Sally figured, little Laurie was still pretty impressionable. She needed an older, wiser hand at the throttle.

Sally made arrangements to meet her little sister downtown at the Galleria. She'd find out about the young man, who he was, what his character was like, his intentions, and if she wasn't comfortable with what Laurie said she'd hire a detective agency to get at the truth. Yeah, she'd look after her little friend; she'd done it before.

Peter got off work early Monday. Jeez, he hadn't felt this refreshed, this solid and upbeat in months. His last girlfriend had really taken him for a ride; she ended up with one of what he thought was his friends. Now out of the blue, almost through an act of God this strange little person, Laurie Stanton, had appeared. She was pretty, sweet, sincere, and he hated to admit it but oh so innocent. 




Love in the Cross Hairs



For sure, finding a girl like her in this town was highly unlikely. He recalled one of his father's friends had once said, 'if you put a fence around this city you'd have the biggest whorehouse on the east coast.' It might not be that bad, but he had to admit finding a dove amidst a flock of crows wasn't always easy. He felt lucky; he might have found one.

Peter walked over to the planning shed where he found his buddy and new partner Max already looking over the plans for the small apartment building they were designing. 

"Hey Pete, how was the weekend?"

"Pretty good Max, found a nice girl."

"Really? What's her name?"

Laurie, Laurie Stanton. She works downtown at one of the law firms. She's really sweet. I don't think she dates much. I think she's kind of pretty."

"Laurie Stanton? Is She one of the muckety muck Stanton's? You know the country club crowd?"

"No not her. She's a regular person. I'll ask her though."

"Good idea, you know some of those people think their shit doesn't stink. Oh they're nice and all, as long as you kiss their asses."

"I'll ask her, but it's a waste of time."



   'Courtship'



Peter decided to go slowly with Laurie. He felt he detected a gentleness, a fragility in the young woman, and he didn't want to say or do anything to unnecessarily hurt her or worse drive her away. Their next several dates took them places he might not have ordinarily gone; they went to the movies, the city's most prestigious art gallery, they spent a day in the inner city visiting several historic sites and eating at one of the outdoor cafes. It was the shank end of summer, bees had become a modest problem, but if they kept the lids on their sodas, avoided bright colored clothing, and too strong perfumes even they weren't a problem. Still accidents can and do happen.

One Saturday afternoon, the first Saturday of fall; Peter and Laurie were sitting at a table at one of the downtown cafes. She'd ordered an iced coffee and a shrimp salad sandwich. Peter got a beer and a crab cake. They were laughing and talking about the things they'd seen, the beautiful weather, and the odd clothing some people wore. 

Laurie had on a pretty light blue sun dress and a pair of white tennis shoes with matching short socks. Her hair was up in a ponytail. She looked every bit, even at twenty-nine, the young ingenue. He hadn't been happier. It was like she made the sun shine.

From out of nowhere a yellow jacket plopped down on her finger tips just as she was about to take another sip of tea. The dastardly little creature took a sniff of Laurie's finger and speared it with its stinger.

Laurie yelped in pain, "Oh Peter I'm in trouble. We have to get some Benadryl right away." 

"Why, it's only a bee sting?"

"I'm allergic. It could kill me."

Peter jumped up, "Benadryl my ass!" He stepped to the curb, and hailed a cab. This wasn't New York; cabs were always about and nearly always available. A cabbie pulled up.

Peter shouted, "Get us to the hospital right away!"

"Any special one?" the cabbie asked.

"The closest!" 

For some reason Laurie called, "No, take me to Mercy."

He looked at the driver, "You heard her!" It didn't make any sense to Peter, a hospital was a hospital, and all of them were top notch in this city. Peter helped her in the cab, and they sped away. As they drove, Peter watched his girl swell up like a balloon. She wasn't kidding. This was serious!

They got to the hospital fairly fast. It was only a few blocks away.

As soon as they got there she was rushed inside, someone gave her a shot, and they swept her upstairs to a bed. He followed along like a love struck puppy.

Peter was surprised. She got premier treatment for a bee sting. Someone had called someone, and before he knew he watched as two older big shot judges and a City Councilman were at her room. They went straight in. He had to wait outside. 

A few minutes later the three stepped from her room. One came up to Peter. It was Judge Hammergold, "You must be Peter. Good thinking. You got her here just in time. Two or three more minutes and she might have been a goner."

Peter asked, "You know Laurie?"

The judge smiled, "I know Laurie? Everybody knows Laurie. She's my goddaughter."

Peter shook the man's hand, "Oh really."

The judge and the other two men smiled. One of the other men, the younger of the two, pulled out his wallet and lifted out a twenty, "Here, for your trouble." 

Peter was stunned, "Keep it, she was no trouble."

The man shook his head, put the money back. They all left. 

One of the nuns came over, "Would you like to see her?"

He answered, "Sure."

The sister led him in, "Don't stay too long. She should sleep a while."

Peter went over and sat beside the bed, "Hey kiddo, you really scared us. Who were those people?"

"Oh they're just some people I know," Suddenly it occurred to her Peter had no idea about her background. He was a regular guy, public schools, local public college, blue collar family, good people, different from hers. She got a little scared. What if he knew about her? He might be put off. It had never happened to her, but she knew other girls who'd lost good ones because of the stupid backward social stuff she'd had to put up with.

She lied; "Oh they're people who know me through my mother. My mom was a maid. She worked off and on at several of mansions in the north end of town. I used to tag along and help. They sort of adopted me I guess."

Peter was relieved, "My partner Max said something about a Stanton family; a bunch of really rich people, old money, real old money, a clan that stayed rich by slicing and dicing anybody that came too close."

Laurie broke into a sweat. Did he know? She lied again, "I know who they are. That's not me." She argued with herself, sure it was like a lie, but not exactly. It was her family, but it wasn't her. 

Peter took her hand, "Boy am I glad. I sure don't want to get too close to anything like that, especially since my business is so fragile thanks to the shenanigans of the very people that family represents."

She asked, "You had trouble with that family?"

"Only indirectly, it's all history now."

She kept lying, "My mom worked for them a while. They're not all like that. In fact most of them were pretty nice."

He thought she looked tired. She was sweating too, "It's no big deal. Look, I wouldn't care if you were one of them. I know you. Look, if you were one of them, then they'd have to be pretty good wouldn't they. They'd have made you."

He changed the subject, "So you were like a maid back in the day. That's neat. I'm glad you're OK. By the way, why did you want this particular hospital?"

Laurie couldn't tell him her family had donated enough money to have a whole wing dedicated to them. This was sort of like her family's personal facility. They always got the royal treatment. 

She decided to tell a little bit of the truth anyway, "I'm Catholic, I guess I panicked and knew there would be clergy here if...well...you know."

Gosh thought Peter, she really was scared, "It's all right honey. I like a good Catholic hospital too." Now Peter wasn't Catholic, Methodist in fact, but he had tons of Catholic friends, and had been to several of the other good Catholic hospitals that dotted the city. 

He added, "I'm not Catholic. I hope that doesn't make any difference."

Laurie squeezed his hand, "Nobody's perfect."

They both laughed.

Peter knew he really liked this girl. Not a girl really, she'd said she was almost thirty. She just didn't act like it. She was more like a school girl, a kid, fresh, clean, and innocent, a far cry from his last girlfriend. She turned out to be a real liar, a manipulator, someone who'd do anything to get what she wanted. He never wanted to be around anyone like that again. Maybe he'd lucked out. Laurie was so honest, so good. Yeah, he might have stumbled into something, something really good.

Laurie smiled at Peter. Boy he really moved fast when he found out she was allergic. No foolishness there. He was really upset. He cared! She thought; he took it and her seriously.

Then other thoughts intruded. She wished those legal people, the judges hadn't shown up. Peter didn't know anything about her family. He thought she was a regular girl. Well she was a regular girl. She'd dumped all that pretentious stuff right after college; the boys the girls, most, not all, but most had been boring. Honestly she never cared anything about jousting, yachting, or trips to Majorca. She liked the public beaches, the Fire Department carnivals, and the state fair. 

Her parents and her brother thought she was crazy. Her sister was the worst. Laurie didn't think her sister-in-law had ever had a regular friend. Jeepers, if she found out about Peter, if her parents found out about him, they'd throw a fit. It was bad enough she'd moved out and found a job on her own. She'd refused nearly all the money and benefits they'd offered. It was like she was the black sheep. Maybe she was. Maybe that was the way she liked it. Heck, if she hadn't gone out on her own she would have never met Peter.

She looked at him a little differently. She thought she knew him well enough. If he knew about her past, a girl with a life of privilege, he probably wouldn't care one way or the other. Still, she'd already made up one story. She wished she hadn't. He was the honest type. She figured he already liked her; maybe she should get more entrenched, dig in a little deeper, turn the liking into something more. Then if she had to modify her background a little she was sure it wouldn't matter. Right she thought; best to keep the silver spoon stuff under wraps; she'd play the maid's daughter for a while.

Peter stayed with her till very late in the evening. Around ten o'clock, hours after visiting time was over one of the nurses came in and herded him out. Another explained she'd be released tomorrow morning around ten. He could come by then and see her home. 

++++++++++++

Bright and early the next morning Peter was at the hospital. The night before, after he left her, he'd gone to the all night garage and had the truck thoroughly cleaned out inside and out. He'd kept it immaculate since their first date anyway, but for a trip home from the hospital an extra clean vehicle might mean a little more. Furthermore, he thought this time he'd take her to his place.

Now, being a builder, he'd had ample opportunities to construct things he'd personally liked. One had been a big mansion out in the county, but that had to go with the recession. However, when he built one of the apartment buildings, he'd held on to the penthouse apartment. Since the down time he'd stayed there. Heck it was his anyway. He hadn't done anything in the way of redecorating, but it was clean, it sat atop a twelve story building, and the view from the yard was magnificent. He thought it would be a nice treat. He'd take Monday off, she could call in sick, and he'd wait on her all day. Nothing's too good for his girl he thought. No sir, nothing's too good for his Laurie.

He got to the hospital, and sure enough her release was all set. To add a little extra joy to the occasion he stepped into the gift shop thinking he'd buy her a balloon or something. He picked out one of those silly helium balloons with a sign that read 'I Love You'. What a great idea, better than candy he thought.

Just as he was set to leave the gift shop he saw her. But she was surrounded by a bunch of people. He didn't know any of them. There weren't any of the people who he'd met from the football game. These people were all new! He didn't know any of them, but he sure recognized a couple. He immediately caught sight of a hot shot city attorney, a real shark. In fact a guy who had been in on collapsing one of his investments. The guy, the creep, had seen the opportunity; he got to grab twelve suburban lots all ready for work. Peter lost a lot that day, and the guy walking beside Laurie was the one who'd made out. What was she doing with him?

There was another person he recognized, a woman, a woman maybe Laurie's age. He remembered her too. She'd been with the hot shot lawyer. He remembered the look she'd given him after they'd cleaned his clock, it was a look like they'd gotten something for nothing, and he deserved to be fleeced. He hated her that day; he hated her even more now. 

He looked at Laurie. She was smiling at those two like they were her best friends. What did she have to do with them? Peter was getting really mad but then his better angels caught up with him.

Wait a second fool! Didn't she tell me her mom was a maid? Didn't she say she used to tag along and help? That was it. These were people who'd hired her mom. They must have found out she was at the hospital from the people who'd been there the day before. They came down just to be nice. 

Well he could like them for being nice to Laurie, but he didn't have to like them himself. He slipped back inside the gift shop and waited. He'd call her later that night, stop over with the balloon, and talk to her then.

Laurie woke up Sunday morning after the bee sting feeling really sore and uncomfortable. Peter had stayed way late the night before and kept her company. She especially liked that even if it meant fighting to stay awake longer than she wanted. She hoped he'd stop in and help her get home. She'd particularly like that. 

From the hospital hallway Laurie heard her brother and sister. Oh no she thought; the absolute last people she wanted to see that morning. She didn't like her brother much. She'd always found him deceitful and conniving. Even when they were children he was always playing the angles with their parents. And she didn't like her sister-in-law a lot either. She was sort of snobbish; but they'd made two great little kids, and she always liked babysitting them. She couldn't imagine how two sweet kids like that came from two of the worst pills she'd ever known. Now they were here.

Her brother and sister whisked Laurie up and out of the hospital without so much as a how do you do. They took her to lunch where they quizzed her about Peter. Laurie didn't let on about anything. Once they realized they weren't getting anything they dropped her off at her apartment and left.

She reached her apartment alone, tired, sore, and just a little weepy. Why hadn't Peter stopped in to get her? She got undressed, took a cool shower and went to bed. Later around six that evening she finally got up the energy to climb out of bed. Maybe she should call in sick tomorrow.

Not long after she was out of bed the doorbell rang. She peeked through the peephole and saw Peter. She opened the door, "Where have you been?" She said it in a kind of funny way hoping he'd see it as joke.

Peter held out the now nearly completely deflated balloon, "I went to the hospital this morning but you were already leaving with two other people so I thought I shouldn't interfere."

Laurie stepped back to let him in, "Oh a balloon. What does it say? Oh, it says I love you." She reached forward, hugged and kissed him, "I'm so pleased. I love you too Peter."

The warm greeting, the hug, and the comment was almost enough to get him to forget the people he saw her with that morning, almost, "I'm sorry I was just a few minutes too late. By the way, who were those people?"

Laurie paused a second. If she were smart she'd admit the little lie about her mother, tell Peter who those people were, and then they could get on with what really mattered - their courtship. That's what she should have done, "Oh Peter, you remember the men who stopped over at the hospital the day before. Well my mom was a maid at one of their houses. When we were real little, before they went to private school and me to Catholic school, we would play together. I guess they felt guilty or something. Anyway they stopped in, and took me home."

She gave him a flirtatious smile, "I would have rather been taken home by you."

"You looked mighty glad to see them."

"Oh I was. I hadn't seen them in years, but I was glad they left too. I wanted to be polite. They employed my mother for years, and they paid her well. I felt like I owed them something."

"What I bet you really liked them; you know like you were all real close."

Laurie never really liked them that much, but they were family. Yes, they were close, but she never hung around with them or particularly liked them, at least not until they had their two kids. She loved their kids, so she guessed she had to like the parents too. She lied some more, "You understand you can be around people and like them sometimes, but most of the time can't stand them. That's how it was. They did some things I liked, and still like, but more often than not I'd just as soon not be around them."

"You weren't around them that much anyway." He said that to let her off the hook, but also to sooth his own modestly hurt feelings. He'd especially wanted to take care of her today, show her his penthouse, and just make her feel all warm and loved. He was just a little put off that he didn't get to do that stuff.  

Laurie put her arms around him, "You're so understanding."

Together they curled up on her loveseat and watched some television. He wanted to watch football, but it was her apartment, and she switched on something about a 'Good Wife. It wasn't a bad show, not his favorite kind of thing, but he liked being with her. How he ever thought all women were conniving manipulative strumpets was silly. This woman was everything a guy could want; pretty to look at, considerate of others, and totally, he meant, totally honest. He had to catch himself. He was afraid he was falling in...he caught himself before he used the word.

They spent the evening, or until ten o'clock cuddling, kissing, and just messing around. This was the farthest either had gone with the other. 

She started rubbing his chest, and resting her hand on his thigh. She took her fingers and rubbed and down the back of his neck. She liked it when his hackles went up. She could see how his 'thing' got big, but she steered well clear of that. Nobody knew it, she'd never admit it, but at twenty-nine she was still a virgin. 

He enjoyed the evening with her watching dumb soap operas and cuddling so much. She was wearing a pair of tailored pajamas He was very careful not to try to take advantage of her. He didn't think she had a bra on; her breasts kept whirling and undulating around under the soft pajama top she had on. 

He kissed her as much as he dared. He didn't want to go overboard, not on what seemed to be becoming their first petting session. He kissed her mostly on her lips. She was wearing lip gloss. She had that perfume on again, and she'd had a shower or bath or something before he got there. She felt so soft and fragile. He had to get up a couple times to maintain his poise; she was that enticing. He loved the way he was able to caress her neck, run his fingers through that dark red luscious hair, and every now and then, rest a hand on her waist and once on a thigh. 

He was careful. He didn't want to go too fast. He really wanted this one. She was absolutely, totally, one hundred percent, fantabulous. 

Just after ten-thirty Peter called it a night. He advised her to stay home the next day. He said he'd knock off early so he could stop by. He asked her what she liked in the way of carry out, and he'd bring some. She said she didn't care as long as he was the delivery boy. That was all it took. He knew she needed a fresh seafood dinner from the best seafood restaurant in town. He figured two big crab cakes, a tossed salad, some crab soup, and maybe a small order of fries doused with Old Bay seasoning. Of course he didn't tell her. It would be a surprise.