On Channel 12

"But the Christian in me says it'd be a tragic thing for you to miss out on seeing Honey, Hannah and Heloise; they are your daughters," Heidi went on.

"But what about you and me?" Stan asked, shutting himself in Cheryl's bathroom; angered at the pleading looks the behemoth was giving him.

"What you and me?" Heidi gave a bitter laugh. "Stan, get it through your thick skull; there is no you and me. That page has been ripped out of the book, baby."

Stan asked Cheryl what fun things she'd recommend for his daughters. Cheryl immediately suggested bringing the three girls to her house, to meet their sisters.

Stan left the house shortly afterward. He was sure no judge would convict him of killing Cheryl Duhon but he didn't want the aggravation of a trial or the expense of hiring a lawyer.

The next person he thought of asking was Heidi. She let his call go to voice mail and he wanted to drive over to Heidi's house and slap her. She knew it was him; she could see his number in the display. But instead of answering, she was playing some kind of game with him.

(Heidi wasn't playing any game; she was busily taking her shower before waking the three girls for breakfast.)

But Stan bit back his anger and left a message, asking for her help.

Cheryl watched her lover leave and felt weary. This wasn't how she had imagined it would be. Ever since the First Grade, she'd fantasized about she and Stan Monroe being together.

Milt had been a loving, dutiful, selfless husband and Cheryl had hated him as thoroughly as she could hate anyone. But she put up with him and his clumsy affections because Stan had told her it was the best thing for the two of them. He was married to Heidi, even though he really wanted to be with her. So, she had to stay with Milt.

And then God had put Stan back in DeGarde, put Stan in her life, where he should be. And they no longer had the shadow of Heidi darkening their path together.

And her children didn't' seem to understand that this was how it was supposed to be; they were supposed to be with Stand; he was, after all, their father.

She knew her cell phone was no longer working, but had assumed that the land line still worked. When she picked up the receiver, she heard a dial tone.

But Summer had an assignment to do that required her to go on the Internet and was unable to log on.

"Way to go, Mom," Sierra snarled, still quite angry with her mother.

"But the phone works; try it again," Cheryl said.

"The phone doesn't work, Mom," Sierra barked after she tried, and failed to call Becky, her best friend. "It's just so you can call nine one one if you have to."

"What?" Cheryl said and tried calling Stan's cell phone with the same results.

"God, can't believe you're so stupid," Sierra said.

"You know what? I've had just about enough of your damned attitude," Cheryl screamed.

Summer grabbed her notebook and raced out of the house.

"Hi Summer," Chelsea smiled when the next door neighbor knocked at her door.

"Hey, Miss Chelsea," Summer smiled up at their baby sitter. "I uh, our phone ain't working I need use a computer yeah; you got one?"

While Chelsea was helping the girl get logged on, she was finding out that Mr. Milt wasn't living next door any longer, that Ms. Cheryl had been having an affair.

"Well, do you know where your Daddy is?" Chelsea asked, feeling her insides get weak.

"Hmm, he gone off-shore about now," Summer deduced, looking at the date in the bottom right hand corner of the computer screen.

Chelsea Guidry had harbored a major on Milt Duhon from the first time she'd met him. That crush was the main reason Chelsea always volunteered to babysit. She did genuinely care for; even love Sierra, Summer, and Skye, but fawned extra attention on them because of her love for Milt.

Chelsea had never acted on her feelings; Milt was married to Miss Cheryl.

But if what Summer was saying was true... Chelsea felt her insides get weak.

"Hey Summer, how are you?" Linda Guidry, Chelsea's step-mother smiled at the girl.

"I'm good; you?" Summer replied.

The girl got the information she needed and printed it out, with Ms. Chelsea's permission.

"What happened to your computer?" Linda asked.

"We don't got no phone; Daddy done left and Momma ain't got enough money pay it no," the child answered, seeing no reason to filter her responses.

Linda guessed that's why there was a police car next door and no sign of Cheryl's brand new Lincoln SUV.

"Your momma at home now?" she asked and Summer nodded, making sure she had all of the print-outs that she needed.

"Yes ma'am; probably killing Sierra," Summer agreed, still not filtering her responses.

Linda cut through the yard and walked next door while Chelsea helped Summer with the homework assignment.

"Hey, Linda; it ain't' a real good time," Cheryl said when she opened the door.

"I'm sure it's not but you're talking to me anyway," Linda said.

Linda ordered Cheryl to make coffee then sat with the woman at the kitchen table and listened.

Linda was divorced from her first husband, Frank Carrecci; the man paid more attention to his stocks and investments than he had to her or their son Anthony. John Guidry had paid attention to Linda and she left Frank to marry John.

John had also been married previously; his wife left John to raise their two daughters, Paige and Chelsea, while she chased after a rock band.

So, Linda had thought she could be objective as she listened to Cheryl's tale. But the more Linda listened to Cheryl, though, the more disgusted she grew. Cheryl had manipulated and used Milt Duhon for several years. The woman had never loved Milt Duhon, even though Milt Duhon had obviously loved her.

Linda wanted to slap the woman when Cheryl showed no emotion, no remorse in having two abortions; they were Milt's babies.

Cheryl saw nothing wrong with her attitude, her behavior. And Cheryl could not, or would not understand how Milt could have her phone cut off, or have her car repossessed.

"I've got to go; thanks for the coffee," Linda finally snapped.

"Good God, that woman is not living in the real world," Linda said to herself.

"Hi-yee Miss Linda, bye-yee Miss Linda," Summer cheerfully said as their paths crossed.

Linda smiled; Summer's face bore the remnants of powdered sugar; probably the last of the doughnuts. Whoever her father was obviously did not have the 'Fat' gene. The girl was slender.

Stan didn't know if Summer was really his or Milt's, and didn't care. He was bitterly cursing Heidi, Cheryl, Honey, Hannah, Heloise, and any other little bitch he could think of as he waited in the apartment laundry room. Heidi had called him back, made several suggestions, none of which he liked, and reminded him that they would be spending the night.

"What's that mean?" he snarled.

"It means, clean your apartment, house, shed, trailer, whatever you're living in," she snarled back.

So he was in the laundry room, feeding quarters into the antiquated washing machines, washing his bed sheets and towels.

Stan had gone through the apartment, gathered up the hardcore DVDs and hid them from sight, tossed out the take-out food containers, locked his guns into his safe, and then ran a vacuum cleaner over the threadbare carpet.

(He'd actually been surprised to find that he had a vacuum cleaner (Heidi had graciously put the smaller of the two upright vacuum cleaners they'd owned into his stack of possessions.)

Upon returning, warm sheets and towels in his arms, Stanley Monroe was surprised to notice how much better his apartment smelled. The nicer smell did little to lift his spirits; Honey, Hannah and Heloise were Heidi's kids; Hannah even looked like Heidi. He really didn't want them invading his space; he really didn't want to waste his time or money on them.

His mother and father had been killed years ago; a biker gang, The Kingsmen had put a bomb in Sheriff Monroe's truck that exploded when he started it. If his mother was still alive, Stan would have simply dropped the girls off at Grandmother's house.

A quick check of the refrigerator showed that he had plenty of beer. A check of the apartment's miniscule pantry showed that he had plenty of chips to go with the beer.

"What the fuck do girls eat?" Stan snarled to himself.

He drove to Super One Foods, grabbed a buggy, and scowled at everyone and everything as he marched up and down the aisles.

The cashier, a pudgy but cute girl tried to engage Stan in friendly chatter but he just scowled at her.

"Bye, have a nice day," the girl cheerfully said as he grabbed the bags out of the buggy and stomped off.

Stan managed to get everything put away and was about to pop open a beer when he heard Heidi's knock. She'd always had this knock; she'd knock twice softly, then the third time would be a little louder, a little more forceful. When people asked her about that distinctive knock, Heidi would shrug and smile apologetically.

"I don't know where I got it from; I've just always done that," she'd say.

"Hi," she said flatly when he opened the apartment door.

"Damn but you look good," he said.

"Uh huh; now, show me where they're sleeping," Heidi demanded, herding their three daughters into the dark apartment.

She did approve, reluctantly, of his full sized bed and nodded when he pointed out that the sheets were freshly washed.

"Oh my God, Stanley Monroe, you are not bathing anyone in this tub," she shrilled, though, when she inspected his bathroom.

"And, oh my God; have you ever cleaned this toilet? This is disgusting!" she snapped.

She situated the three girls at the small kitchen dinette, pulling animal crackers out of her purse and instructing Stan to pour them three glasses of milk. Then, while the girls chattered with each other, ignoring their father, Heidi cleaned Stan's bathroom.

"All right, girls, give me hugs, give me kisses and give me love," Heidi demanded after using Stan's kitchen sink to wash her hands.

Heidi's car wasn't even out of the parking lot and Stan was ready to kill the three girls, Heidi, and himself.

"Mommy says you a police man," Heloise piped up, regarding Stan with interest. "You put bad people in jail?"

"Uh yeah, that's right, Daddy's a police man," Stan agreed.

So he took them down the stairs and put them into a real life police cruiser. He even showed them that, once in the rear of the cruiser, they were in; they couldn't get out unless someone on the outside opened the car door.

Then, siren and lights blaring, they drove past their house. They laughed that Mommy must be wondering if she was in trouble.

And then they drove to get pizza for lunch.

While Heloise was trying to teach her father the words to 'Itsy Bitsy Spider' Skye and Summer were in their living room, fighting over the remote control for the television.

"Would you please tell your sisters..." Cheryl barked as she cleared the winter coats off of the treadmill.

Sierra just walked out of the room, ignoring her mother.

"Hey! I am talking to you!" Cheryl bellowed.

"God damned little bitch, I am..." Cheryl thundered as she stormed out of the room just in time to hear the front door slam.

"Momma, I'm hungry," Skye whined, letting Summer have the remote control.

"Where's your sister going?" Cheryl screamed.

"I don't know," Summer shrugged and found something on Nickelodeon to watch.

"Momma, I'm hungry," Skye repeated.

"I heard you the first time, Skye," Cheryl snapped.

"But I'm..." Skye whined.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" Cheryl bellowed. "Huh? What do you want me to do about it?"

Summer gave the remote control to Skye and walked into the kitchen.

The bacon didn't look good; it was starting to curl at the ends and the color was dark. The bell pepper and onion was turning soft. They'd used the last of the eggs and the bread had been thrown out; it was molding badly.

There was still some crunchy peanut butter in the pantry and Summer pulled a tablespoon out of the drawer and scraped up some peanut butter.

"Here, eat on this; I be back," Summer said, handing the spoon to Skye.

Linda had composed herself; her anger had dissipated somewhat when she heard Summer's knock at the door.

"Miss Linda I use your phone right quick?" Summer asked. "Don't worry; I ain't calling France or nothing."

Linda couldn't help but smile. Cheryl said that Milt Duhon wasn't Summer's father, but the girl possessed Milt Duhon's sense of humor.

"Uncle Clark? This Summer," the girl said into the telephone. "No, no, I'm next door; our phone ain't working no."

Linda gasped as Summer told her father's older brother that they had run out of food next door.

"Love you, Uncle Clark," Summer said and hung up.

"Thanks, Miss Linda," the girl smiled.

"Sweetheart, I'm right here; why you didn't just come and tell me?" the woman asked, a tear running down her face.

"'Cause Uncle Clark's family yeah," Summer said simply. "Didn't want bother you with that stuff."

"God, Child, it's not a bother," Linda spluttered. "I'm right here! I'm right next door!"

At his house, DebbiAnn looked on as Clark hung up the telephone.

"What you fixing do?" she asked.

His brother had told him, had even played the recording of Cheryl's admission that Milt had not fathered any of their children. So Clark announced to DebbiAnn that he wasn't their uncle. Milt wasn't their father; they weren't family.

But Summer had called him 'Uncle Clark' and he had been her uncle for twelve years now. He couldn't just turn off his love for her, or her sisters.

"My niece just said there's no food in their house," the man sighed. "So, I'm going to Early's grab them some food and drive it on over there."

DebbiAnn smiled in relief and hugged her man.

"But I don't want bring Andrea around there no," he said

"And I love you yeah," she whispered into his chest.

DebbiAnn was relieved that her husband would not be abandoning his nieces.

"Where's Daddy going?" Andrea asked as she heard Clark's 1965 Mustang back out of the garage.

"He going Church real quick," DebbiAnn lied, naming the one place Andrea would not want her Daddy to take her.

At Early's, Clark grabbed food that would be easy for a twelve year old girl to fix, along with the staples of eggs, bread, cheese, peanut butter and jelly. He avoided any foods that he knew Cheryl liked. A little petty of him, he realized, but he shrugged his shoulders. The woman had never liked him, and had even threatened to bar him from their house when he married the much younger DebbiAnn.

Thankfully, Milt did wear the pants in the family and told Cheryl she wouldn't be banning his brother or his sister in law. Not as long as he was paying the bills.

Then Clark drove to Cheryl's house and steeled himself for the unpleasant task of having to see his sister in law.

"Uncle Clark!" Skye happily cried out when Summer opened the door for their uncle.

"Hi Sugar Boo," Clark smiled as he lugged the groceries into the house.

"Mr. Bill, shut up! Is someone, oh," Cheryl snapped, then sneered when she saw Clark.

"Uh huh," Clark sneered back at the woman.

"Where's Andrea?" Skye asked, looking for her cousin.

"At home with her momma," Clark smiled as Summer gratefully hugged her uncle and began putting the groceries away.

"What's all this? Why you bringing this by?" Cheryl demanded as she saw the food.

"It's food, Cheryl, it's food. You're welcome, Cheryl, no thanks necessary," Clark snapped.

"Ooh, pizza rolls!" Summer whooped.

"I want some," Skye whined.

"And see, right here, tell you how do it in the microwave," Clark showed Summer. "That way it's real quick so little seven year old girls don't just curl up and die, okay?"

"Who told you we needed..." Cheryl demanded.

"My brother did, all right? Is that okay? Do you have to be such a hateful, never mind, I'm leaving," Clark snarled at the woman.

Summer knew she had been the one to call her uncle, but also saw in her mother's angry face that admitting this fact would not fare well for her, so she kept her mouth shut.

"Well, I guess the man's coming to his senses," Cheryl smiled triumphantly.

Summer helped Skye with the roll-ups and showed her what buttons to punch.

"Now you don't be doing this I ain't here, you hear?" she demanded and Skye nodded in affirmation.

"Now why'd he get; he knows I hate this stuff," Cheryl muttered, looking through the rest of the groceries on the counter.

Clark had even grabbed a few small cans of dog food for Mr. Bill, but there was little that appealed to Cheryl.

"Thanks, Uncle Clark," Summer quietly said as she put the rest of the groceries away.

Chapter 10

On Tuesday, the electricity and gas were shut off. St. Elizabeth's Public Utilities did not cut off the power until nine thirty six am, so the girls were already in school when it happened.

The 911 operator that received Cheryl's enraged call merely hung up on the woman once she determined there was no real emergency.

Linda tried to be helpful, tried to be sympathetic to her neighbor, but actually did not feel much sympathy at all.

"You, how much did you, well, was your name on any of this stuff?" Linda asked as Cheryl sat at her kitchen table, grimacing in anger.

"Huh? What you mean?" Cheryl asked.

"Cheryl, do you pay any of the bills? Anything at all?" Linda asked. "Is your name on anything?"

"Well, no but..." Cheryl said, face twisting rage again. "I been taking care of his three girls!"

"And according to you, they aren't his girls," Linda reminded her.

Linda called St. Elizabeth's Public Utilities. According to the pleasant girl that answered, the soonest they could send someone out to reconnect the utilities was Thursday.

Linda also called St. Elizabeth's Water and Sewage; fortunately for Cheryl. They'd been slated to terminate services on or after three pm that same day.

"Thank you," Linda said as the girl took her credit card information.

"So, who is handling your divorce?" Linda finally asked when it became clear that Cheryl wasn't going to thank her for saving her water and sewage services.

"Stan is," Cheryl shrugged.

"And who is Stan's attorney?" Linda asked, almost wishing she'd not quit smoking.

"I don't know, Cheryl shrugged. "And because Milt had the damned phone cut off, I ain't been able talk to Stan."

"Stan Monroe," Stan answered, not recognizing the telephone number on the display.

"God damn, no, that stupid cow was supposed to handle all that shit," Stan barked into the telephone. "Jesus that pig is just about useless, I swear to God... Tell her to get off her fat ass and do something on her own for once in her life, huh?"

Linda almost took pleasure in relaying Stan's ugly outburst to Cheryl. Linda dug out Sophia Coutre's card; Sophia was John's attorney, was the attorney for Channel 12.

"Okay, see you then," Linda said and hung up.

"Go home, shower, put on some make up and put on something nice; we have a one o'clock appointment with Nicole Banks," Linda snapped.

"Take a; the electricity's cut off," Cheryl snapped.

"So? Take a cold shower," Linda said. "And wash your hair.

"And then dry it with what, Linda?" Cheryl snapped.

"A towel usually does wonders, Cheryl, no, it's no trouble Cheryl, yes, I'll be happy to drive you to the attorney's office, Cheryl, after all, we're all just here to serve you, Cheryl," Linda snapped.

Because her parents had done just that, because Milt Duhon had done just that, Cheryl truly did believe that she was entitled to having others wait on her hand and foot.

"John Guidry," John cheerfully answered his cell phone. "If you've been a bad girl and need a spanking, please press one now. If you just want a booty call, please press two now."

"How about if I just want to kill our next door neighbor?" Linda asked.