Week of the Big Four-Oh

"Last one," Charlotte promised.

"And it's not bullshit. Cook's out, or will be, and I picked up Brown yesterday," Gary defended.

John ranted and raved and spat obscenities at his daughter. Grudgingly, though, he did agree that she could come to his home.

Gary drove to John Eckles's home and dug Charlotte's suitcase out of the trunk. Darlene and Charlotte hugged, then Charlotte wheeled her suitcase to the door.

"Now, how was it?" Gary asked Darlene when she climbed into the front seat of the car.

"Jesus, what a disaster," Darlene sighed. "I mean, look at her, would you? Think anyone would want to fuck that?"

"Not when you're sitting right next to her," Gary agreed as they watched Charlotte enter her father's home. "But did you get any money out of her?"

"Almost," Darlene sighed as Gary backed out of the long driveway. "But then Ronnie, God, I hate that ass hole, you hear me? He cancelled all of her credit cards and she had to use her debit card."

"And there's ATMs all over the place," Gary reminded her. "Shit! Got about ten bucks? We need gas."

"Yeah, there's ATMs all over the place and she went on-line; you can do that when your dumb ass husband doesn't run up your minutes on fantasy football," Darlene snapped. "Yeah, here, here's a twenty."

"Uh huh, so she went on-line. What's that got to do with ATMs?" Gary asked, pulling into a gas station.

"Saw that Ronnie had helped himself to half her account," Darlene said. "Only get ten, okay? We still need to pay the electric bill. Unless you already paid it."

Gary nodded and entered the attached convenience store. Darlene watched as Gary swiveled toward the beer cooler and gave the car horn a quick bleat. Gary frowned at her through the plate glass window of the store but swiveled back toward the counter.

"Was just going get one can," Gary lied when he returned to the car.

"Uh huh, one can my ass," Darlene snapped. "When is the last time you ever got one can?"

"Oh, hey, now that little midget works here? One with the big tits?" Gary asked.

"She doesn't have big tits. They just look big 'cause she's so short," Darlene said. "Come on, pump the gas, all right?"

While Darlene and Gary were bickering, Charlotte listened to her father's angry lecture. Ever since his stroke, John used quite a few vulgarities when speaking. And did not seem to mind using hateful, hurtful words to describe the people around him.

"I mean, seriously? You look at yourself lately?" John asked. "Fat fucking pig, and that face? Looks like it caught fire and they used an ice pick put it out."

"Dad!" Charlotte gasped, truly stung by his words.

"So you're turning forty. Big fucking deal; people turn forty every fucking day, God damn," John snarled. "But not every one of them turns into a stupid God damned fucking whore just because they're forty."

He pointed to the legal documents on the coffee table. Samson picked that moment to enter the living room.

"Need get a lawyer. And need clean that useless fucking cat's God damned litter box," John snapped. "Jesus Christ, I don't know what the fuck that animal eats but God damn does it fucking stink."

John abruptly turned and pushed himself away. The left corner of his mouth hung open and he drooled.

"You're in your old room," John snapped. "God damned, hope it was fucking worth it. You hear? I hope the fuck it was worth it. Forty fucking years old and still a God damned moron."

That night, laying in her old bed, staring at the wallpaper that she and her mother had picked out when she was eight years old, Charlotte let out a sigh. Samson did not stir as Charlotte turned off the light and stared up at the dark ceiling.

The week of her fortieth birthday had started out with so much promise. The airplane ride had been smooth and easy. Charlotte had stared out the window as the shiny city of Las Vegas appeared beneath them

Exhilarated, Charlotte and Darlene had checked into their hotel room. Then, they'd rushed downstairs and spent a few bucks at the roulette table before deciding to eat supper.

Charlotte was mortified when the cute waiter let her know that her credit card had been declined. The second credit card was likewise declined and it was the manager that brought the second card to the table, heavy glare on his face. Charlotte dug out her debit card and prayed that it would work. Fortunately, it did and the manager brought the card and her receipts to her.

After returning to the room, Charlotte checked her bank account and discovered that it had been reduced by fifty percent. Both Charlotte and Darlene had cursed Ronnie Jackson. Both had agreed that the man had gone too far, too far indeed.

"Come on, girl," Darlene had encouraged. "We're in Vegas. VEGAS! We can't let that ass hole piss on our good time, huh?"

But, watching Darlene lose three hundred dollars at a blackjack table tid put a bit of a damper on that evening's festive mood. It had been Charlotte's three hundred dollars.

Charlotte did manage to pick up a handsome young man in the bar. The twenty five year old David Daltry went with Charlotte to her room. Four pumps with his short, slender cock and David was done. Then Charlotte saw David trying to steal her wallet from her purse.

Darlene complained about being limited to one hundred dollars a day; Lady Luck and Darlene had not met during this Vegas trip. One hundred dollars seemed to evaporate in Darlene's hand the moment she stepped out of their hotel room.

Tuesday night, the night of her birthday, Charlotte again attempted to pick up a handsome young man. The young man had smirked, then leaned close. Charlotte leaned close, giggling in anticipation.

"Lady, I wanted fuck some three hundred pound skank? I'd be at home with my wife," he said. "But, uh, hey, heard there's a blind convention two hotels down. Why don't you try your luck there, huh, lard ass?"

Stinging from the hurtful rejection, Charlotte rode the elevator up to their room. She groaned when she saw the pantyhose knotted loosely around the door handle.

Charlotte then went down to the coffee shop in the lobby and nursed a cup of coffee for a couple of hours. Finally, Charlotte sent Darlene a text, letting her know she was returning to the room.

Returning to their room, Charlotte was relieved to see that the pantyhose was no longer knotted around the handle and let herself into the room. After a hot shower, after pulling her sexy lingerie onto her plump body, Charlotte lay in the large, comfortable hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. Then she realized, Ronnie had not called. Her husband had not called to wish her a happy birthday.

Tracy had not called either. But the girl had sent her a text message, wishing her a happy birthday.

A check of her cell phone did let Charlotte know her husband had not even bothered to send her a text message. Charlotte did smile at Dennis's, Brian's and Paul's birthday wishes, though.

And in the morning, Darlene complained bitterly about the budget Charlotte had confined them to. Darlene even pointed out that it had been her that had paid for the air fare, the hotel room.

By Saturday morning, Charlotte thought very seriously of telling her cousin that they were through. Blood relations or not, Charlotte had more than enough of Darlene's constant complaints. But Darlene had their air tickets in her purse, so Charlotte kept her silence.

Now, laying in her old bed, in her old room, Charlotte sighed heavily. Her week of the big four-oh had not been much of a celebration.

Jim Rankles was the attorney that Freddie Baxter, Charlotte's supervisor with the Garland County Public Library recommended. The man looked over the papers from Penny Barnes's office, then at his client.

"And? Very cut and dry. He gets half, you get half. House is to be sold, any profits are to be split fifty-fifty. Any expenses? Also to be split fifty-fifty. He's not asking for alimony, even though he is now, for all intents and purposes unemployed," Jim said.

"But I don't want a divorce," Charlotte whined. "I don't want to lose my house. I don't want..."

"Mrs. Jackson, it really doesn't matter," Jim sighed. "That's the ugly truth of it. One person says they want a divorce? Well, guess what? They can get a divorce."

"Counseling?" Charlotte asked.

"Okay, we can request counseling," Jim said and Charlotte smiled. "I'll call Penny's office."

Charlotte listened to Jim's side of the conversation. She studied the titles of the books in his bookcase as Jim's side seemed to be little more than 'Uh huh' and 'hmm.'

"Okay, Mrs. Jackson, here's the problem," Jim said, putting his cell phone on his desk.

"No. No problem. I'm paying you so that there's no problem," Charlotte said, clutching her purse tightly.

"Ms. Barnes has no idea where her client is. Your husband came in, paid her fee, and left," Jim said. "All she has is an email address for him. She needs to? She can contact him there. And no, she won't give us the email address; attorney-client privilege."

"Oh," Charlotte whispered, sagging into the chair.

"And said that Ronnie told Ms. Barnes that your daughter can pay her own tuition and dorm fees from now on," Jim continued. "Something about 'old school' or something like that. Any idea what he means by that?"

"No," Charlotte whispered. "But I'm willing to bet Tracy does."

*.*

Charlotte did not celebrate her forty first birthday. She dressed for another day at work, then left her room.

John did not look up when his daughter kissed his cheek. He just stared at his hands, clutched lifelessly in his lap.

"Need anything before I go to work?" Charlotte asked.

"Nuh uh," John mumbled.

"All right then, I'm leaving. You and Samson behave, all right?" Charlotte said, trying to put as much cheer into her voice as she could. "All right? My two men behave themselves, okay?"

"What the fuck you think we're going to do?" John spat, but it was mostly just grunts and squeaks and barks.

Charlotte drove to work, drove the same route she'd driven for the past year from father's home to the library. She heard a chime coming from her cell phone, but waited until she had parked the car before looking at the display.

'Happy Birthday!' Charlotte read on her cell phone.

"Yeah Tracy, whoop dee fucking do," Charlotte muttered. 'Happy birthday to me. I'm so excited I could just shit."

But she did send a reply, thanking Tracy for the birthday greeting.

Charlotte had managed to whittle twenty five pounds off of her frame in the year since her fortieth birthday. No one had noticed though. No one had paid her any attention since Ronnie had left.

Less than a week after Ronnie had left, Charlotte recognized Darlene and Gary's 'open marriage' for what it was. Darlene and Gary had an open marriage because they did not like each other. But neither one of them had enough money to free themselves from the other. So, they lived like two roommates in their rented trailer, instead of husband and wife. There were no displays of affection between them; Darlene and Gary did not hug, they did not kiss.

Charlotte remembered how Ronnie had hugged her and kissed her. That night, the night she'd fixed him pork chops and mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans cooked with bacon, Ronnie had come up to her, wanting to hug and kiss her.

She had pinched her nostrils; Ronnie smelled of sweat, of hard work. After her declaration that she was going to celebrate her fortieth birthday in Las Vegas, without him, Ronnie had not hugged or kissed her. The last time Charlotte had seen Ronnie, she had bent down to kiss him and he had deftly avoided her kiss.

An hour after reading Tracy's text message, her phone chimed again. Charlotte read the text from her supervisor, asking her if she was running late. Charlotte numbly got out of her car and walked to the rear door of the cinderblock building.

*.*

Tracy read her mother's text message, thanking her for the birthday wishes. Tracy then looked at her cell phone. There was a picture of a scrunched up little girl with a shock of brown hair looking at her.

'Antoinette Barbara Jackson, six pounds four ounces, seventeen inches long,' the text message from her father's phone had read.

Tracy did think it was quite ironic that her baby sister and her mother shared the same birthday. But she also did not think her mother would find any humor in that little fact.

Tracy did wonder if her father even remembered that today was her mother's birthday.

*.*

Shannon Flooring," Becky McMahon, an attractive brunette said into the telephone. "Carpets, tiles, hardwoods and laminates; ask me about next day installation."

"Hey, Shorty," the girl called out. "Line three."

"Excuse me," Ronnie Jackson said to the young couple that was trying to decide what color hardwood flooring they wanted for their home.

Ronnie waved Bobby East over to assist the young couple while he handled the phone call. The young man nodded in agreement and approached the couple.

Ronnie walked over to a wall mounted telephone and punched the blinking extension. His eyes swept the sales floor as he put the receiver to his ear.

Ronnie was hoping to hear back from Samuel Dee; he had been trying to get an exclusive contract to do all flooring for the real estate developer's future projects.

(It was uncanny just how much Samuel Dee resembled Terrence Browner, a painter John Eckles had hired a few years ago. Ronnie had not known Terrence that well; they'd never worked on any projects together, but it had been a true tragedy when the entire Browner family had died in a trailer fire.)

"Shannon's flooring, Shorty speaking," Ronnie said into the receiver.

"Well, guess what, Mister Shorty?" his wife's voice bubbled into the telephone. "Looks like you and your seven inches put another one in me."

"Shannon, are you serious?" Ronnie asked, mouth open in shock.

"I mean, really. Toni's not even out of diapers yet and I'm going have another one?" Shannon giggled happily into the telephone.

"Where are you?" Ronnie asked.

"Just leaving Dr. Pruitt's office right now," Shannon said.

"Well, need to get that gorgeous butt of yours right here, right now," Ronnie said. "We're going to Stone Grill to celebrate."

"Think all that attention to my butt's why we're in this mess in the first place," Shannon giggled as she pushed Toni's stroller out of Alliance Square Health Facility into the brutal Texas sun.

The four foot eight inch tall woman brushed her long hair back out of her eyes as she scanned her surroundings. Always being the shortest kid on the block, she'd learned to check around herself first before proceeding.

She looked up at the blistering hot sun and smiled. When Ronnie had come into the gas station to tell Shannon Carlisle good-bye, that he was leaving, she had asked him where he was going. For a long moment, Ronnie had looked at her. Then he shrugged his shoulders.

"Not really sure. Why? Why do you want to know?" he asked.

"So I can tell them where to send my last check," Shannon said, jumping down from her milk crate. "You going someplace warm? I've just about had all the snow I can take, you hear?"

"Shannon, what would a gorgeous girl like you want with an old fart like me?" Ronnie asked her.

She was about to respond with her usual playful banter of 'Hmm, 'bout seven inches' when she looked up at him. She closed her eyes.

"What color are my eyes?" she asked.

"Brown. A real deep brown," Ronnie replied.

"I got a dimple; which cheek is it on?" Shannon asked, opening her eyes.

"Left cheek. And when you smile, shows off one of your teeth, one on the right is kind of twisted, I mean, not real bad, but it's not straight," Ronnie said.

"And why'd you come tell me 'Bye' Shorty?" Shannon asked as she slipped out from behind the counter. "Hey, Paulie! I'm leaving."

"I, because I don't know," Ronnie answered as Paulie lumbered his three hundred and twelve pounds out from the stockroom.

"Uh huh," Shannon smirked and grabbed Ronnie's left hand in her right hand. "Paulie, I'm leaving."

"You, but you, you got another two hours on your shift," Paulie complained.

"Cough, cough, I'm sick," Shannon said. Bye. Hey, Shorty, you ever been to Texas?"

At the door of the convenience store, Shannon smirked at the still stunned Paulie. She pushed the door open.

"Hey Paulie? That blow job you keep hounding me for?" Shannon called out. "Not happening. Neh Ver going happen."

Standing in front of the Alliance Square Health Facilities, Shannon waved to Brandon and Barbara Garcia. It was obvious that Barbara was quite a few years older than her husband; she scolded him like a mother would scold a child. But it was also obvious that they loved each other. Barbara had one arm over her large pregnant belly, the other arm around her husband's narrow waist. The Garcias waved to Shannon and walked toward their old sedan.

"Hey Ronnie?" Shannon whispered as she wheeled the stroller toward her SUV. "I love you."

THE END

*Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure. I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you sincerely for reading my stories.

I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I do read all comments.

I also thank those that take the time to rate my stories, and those that 'Favorite' my stories.

I do not read emails. They are deleted without being opened. So, if you've any comments, simply leave them here, with this story. That way we can all enjoy your words of wisdom.

Shannon Carlisle, now Shannon Jackson is a character from 'Rain On The Roof' in the Loving Wives category.

Melissa Kahlick, the real estate agent and her daughter Antoinette Kahlick are also characters from 'Rain On The Roof.'

Tracy Jackson, Ronnie's oldest child is now the pre-school teacher at Grover Cleveland Elementary School. She is Antoinette Kahlick's teacher.

And, in case you're wondering, having to scramble around, having to pay for her last year of college did force Tracy Lois Jackson to do a little growing up.

That, and walking in to find her boyfriend fucking her roommate did show Tracy that there is nothing 'Old School' about expecting fidelity from your significant other.

Tracy sent a letter of apology to her father, care of Ronnie's attorney, Penny Barnes. A week later, Ronnie contacted Tracy and father and daughter had a good, long talk, patching up the tattered relationship.

Samuel Dee, the real estate developer Ronnie is hoping to get the contract with is a character in 'Paint It Black' in the Incest/Taboo category.

The Shannon Flooring employees, Becky McMahon and Bobby East are characters from the 'Tequila' series.

Dr. Pruitt, Shannon's Ob//Gyn is a character from 'Paint It Black' in the Incest/Taboo category.

Barbara and Brandon Garcia are characters from the 'Multiple Units' series.

Antoinette Barbara Jackson is named after Shannon's mother and Ronnie's mother. Both grandmothers are deceased; Toni's name is a way to honor the two women.

October is 'Breast Cancer Awareness Month.' Personally, I think every day, from January 1st to December 31st should be breast cancer awareness day. Come on, fight like a girl. Big or small, let's save them all. Real men wear pink.

Have a swell day. And some of you? Have a swollen day.