Zinnias

And at the stroke of midnight, among the loud barrage of fireworks up and down their street, and in surrounding Baylor Lake neighborhoods, Randy presented Heather Aucoin with an engagement ring. Her beautiful eyes opened wide and her pretty mouth hung open. Unable to speak, she simply nodded her head in agreement.

The next time Randy was in from off-shore, they had Shannon Brown, the nineteen year old daughter of the neighbors across the street come and babysit so that Heather and Randy could go out, could have some adult fun. Shannon was stunningly beautiful, with calf-length whitish blonde hair and large brown eyes. Her round face was highlighted by her plump lips that seemed to be perpetually pink and shiny.

The five foot one inch beauty was blessed with 30D breasts and Shannon seemed to be allergic to bras. Even Heather mentioned Shannon's hard nipples poking against her soft flannel shirt. Her waist was narrow and her buttocks were round and well-formed from hours of bicycling.

"So, where are you going?" Shannon breathed in her soft voice as she shrugged out of her heavy coat.

"Side By Side, then Vermillion's got an Amateur Comedy show," Randy smiled.

"Oh, Mrs. Wilson! You're so lucky," Shannon breathed.

"Not Wilson yet," Heather smiled and kissed Randy as he assisted in putting her coat on.

"Oh! But, oh, okay, oh! You have a swimming pool?" Shannon said, then spotted the in-ground swimming pool through the rear atrium doors.

"Uh huh, but it's too cold for that," Farley informed the beautiful teenager.

"And is that, that's eye shadow? You're wearing eye shadow? With a tee shirt?" Shannon asked the boy. "Oh no. Come on; we need to find you a better top than that."

"Okay, I think she'll do just fine," Heather tittered and they left the house.

In Farley's eyes, Shannon Brown earned every penny Randy paid to her for the four and a half hours of babysitting. Briah also liked the pretty, friendly teenager, and Danielle had liked her too. But Farley was smitten and asked Mr. Randy when they planned to go out on another date, when was Shannon coming over again?

As a cyclist, Shannon was a big help in teaching Farley, and to some extent Briah and Danielle as well. She refused Randy's offer of money; she was a neighbor and neighbors needed to help neighbors.

When Randy suggested Manny's Mexican restaurant, then bowling at the Bowl-O-Rama, Farley begged for them to invite Shannon along.

"We'll pay you just like it's a babysitting job," Randy whispered into the cell phone.

"You will not," Shannon whispered in reply. "It's a date."

"You can't tell me her momma let her out of the house like that," Heather complained into Randy's ear; the tight sweater made Shannon's bra-less condition very apparent.

"Know what? I don't believe I've ever seen Kathy with a bra on either," Randy mused, speaking of Shannon's mother.

"You looked?" Heather complained, lightly slapping Randy's arm.

"So, Mr. Randy, why you shave your head?" Shannon purred, even rubbing her small hand along Randy's head. "You not going bald, huh?"

"In Stratton? They had a big problem with lice," Randy said bluntly. "Even with the de-lousing stuff they sprayed us down with, lice got into everything. So, we shaved it off."

"EVERYTHING?" Shannon asked, big eyes flickering down to Randy's crotch.

"None of your business," Heather said tersely.

The triumphant smile the girl wore did not set well with Heather. But Farley distracted both women by his clumsy attempt at flirting with Shannon. The waitress bringing their food discouraged any further conversation.

At the bowling alley, Heather decided they would be two teams; Mr. Randy and Mommy and Danielle against Shannon, Briah, and Farley. The six of them had a terrific time, teasing, taunting, and encouraging one another. And as they dropped Shannon off at her house, the teenager again refused to take any money from Randy.

"Everything?" Heather cooed breathlessly into Randy's ear as they lay in their bed after getting Briah and Farley and Danielle into bed.

"Everything. Want to see?" Randy laughed, kissing Heather.

"Oh Mr. Randy! You DO shave everything!" Heather squealed in a breathless little voice as she stroked Randy's cock in her small hand.

In their bedtime whispering and cuddling, Heather let it slip that neither Damien nor Donnie, Damien's father were Briah's father. In truth, Heather was certain that Donnie, Damien's father was actually the father of both Farley and Danielle; Damien had been in Mumphrey, serving eight to twelve for a burglary that had resulted in bodily harm to the victim of the burglary when Farley was conceived. As for Danielle, either Damien or Donnie could have fathered the sweet child, but given the date of Danielle's birth, Donnie was most likely her father.

"I, this, this David McMahon, Briah know about her daddy?" Randy asked.

"No. I, why?" Heather asked.

"And this David guy, he a con like Damien or Donnie?" Randy pressed.

"Donnie wasn't, no, no David, he's, he's a good guy. Got a job and everything," Heather admitted.

"Oh. Oh, hey wait a minute! I got a job! That mean I'm a good guy?" Randy asked, smiling.

"You? Hmm. I don't know 'bout that," Heather teased.

"Seriously, Briah, you don't think she needs to know 'bout her Daddy? I mean, supposed something happens and she needs some medical information or something?" Randy pressed.

Heather kept promising she would contact David, would let David know about his child. Seven days, from Tuesday afternoons to Tuesday mornings did not give Randy any window of opportunity to press Heather about the issue. There was always something else that needed their immediate attention.

Spring finally started to make its presence known. Randy found himself cleaning the pool, prepping the pool, telling Briah and Farley and Danielle it was still too damned cold to go swimming. He also found himself cutting the grass, a job he absolutely loathed.

And Heather was in full wedding planning phase. She spent much time on her cell phone with Janice, Randy's mother, deciding this and that. Janice still did not fully endorse her son's relationship with a woman nine to ten years older than Randy, and did not like Randy stepping into a ready-made family. But she did appreciate Heather's desire to include her in the planning stages.

"And that boy of yours, boy's a sweetheart," Uncle Jack told Randy. "Damned near every time that Heather's on the phone with your mom, Farley's got talk with your mom too."

"Yeah, he's a good boy," Randy agreed.

April 27th, Randy wasn't fully in the door before Briah and Farley and Danielle were demanding to go swimming. When Randy affirmed with their mother, he gave his consent.

"Where's he going?" Randy asked Heather when Farley ran out the front door rather than up the stairs.

"Where you think? Swimming pool? Means bathing suits? Bathing suits means we need get that Shannon Brown over here," Heather said, pretty mouth twisted in a grimace of distaste.

"Oh? Think we need get her momma over here too?" Randy teased and laughed at Heather's bark of indignation.

Just as Briah and Danielle thundered down the stairs, Farley raced back into the house. He whooped that Shannon was coming right over as he pounded up the stairs.

"Seriously, you can't get him no other bathing suit?" Randy asked as Farley ran past, dressed in his one piece swimsuit.

"I COULD," Heather said, walking to the front door when the doorbell chimed. "But, would he wear it?"

Shannon's bikini of red and white peppermint stripes was stunning. Heather pinched Randy's arm, hard when Randy looked just a little too long at the thong bottom, at Shannon's sweetly rounded backside.

Heather wanted to pinch Shannon's arm; actually, Heather wanted to scratch the girl's eyes out as the girl gawked at Randy's muscled chest and arms. Shannon's gasp when she saw the coiled rattlesnake ready to strike on Randy's back had Heather ready to punch the girl's face to a bloody pulp.

"Okay, y'all can't tell me this isn't too cold," Randy gasped as he swam to the ladder of the pool.

"No it's not," Briah declared.

"Briah! You got, your arms nothing but goose bumps," Randy laughed but did swim a few laps.

He gave Danielle a tour of the pool on his back. Briah then wanted the same, so of course, Farley wanted a ride on Mr. Randy's back.

"Don't. Don't even think about it," Heather snarled at Shannon.

Shannon said nothing as she smiled sweetly at Heather. The girl then playfully 'tackled' Farley. Both Shannon and Farley then decided they'd tackle Briah.

"Hey; didn't want to get in?" Randy asked, plopping onto the chaise lounge next to Heather.

"Oh? Well, unlike you, I got enough sense know it's too damned cold," Heather said.

"Okay, so, let's have chili pie; you know they're going be popsicles by the time they finally figure out they're cold," Randy suggested.

On May 18th, twenty five days before their wedding, Heather quietly told Randy that Damien had managed to somehow become paroled from Mumphrey State Penitentiary. Randy looked at her, a slow boil beginning to form in his gut.

Okay, I, I'm fixing go off-shore, need leave here in five minutes," Randy said, hefting his heavy duffel bag. "You're not going tell me you just found this all out just now, huh?"

"I, uh, um," Heather stammered, unable to meet Randy's eyes.

"We'll talk about this when I get back," Randy said. "My ass ain't on that boat? My ass ain't getting paid."

The entire trip from Baylor Lake to the Industrial Canal, Randy fumed. He played and replayed the tape of Heather's stammering declaration that somehow, her ex-boyfriend had managed to get a parole from Mumphrey. Randy did not think it was a coincidence that Heather just happened to make this announcement five minutes before he had to leave the house.

Randy wasn't surprised that the house was deathly quiet when he returned on Tuesday, June 1st. He was surprised, livid at the stench of urine, though. He was also enraged at the numerous holes kicked into the walls, the smashed glasses and plates. The sight of his 54 inch LCD television lying on the floor, destroyed was also infuriating. Randy called 911 to report the vandalism.

Officer Rochelle Esposito came out and walked through the home with Randy. She took countless photographs with her digital camera, shaking her head at the callous and unnecessary carnage.

"Aww, well shit," Randy sighed heavily when he saw that Briah's and Danielle's room was empty. Seeing Farley's empty room hit him hard as well.

"Jesus, that, really?" Randy screamed, smelling his soiled bedding in the bedroom he and Heather had shared.

"Know what? Bet he's going be real sorry he did that," Officer Esposito offered, taking a photograph of the lumps of feces on the crisp white sheets. "He's in our system? His DNA will show up in that."

"And? According to Heather, he just got out of Mumphrey. Like he's got any money pay for any of this?" Randy snapped.

The three bicycles were gone from the garage. Apparently, Damien had no ill will toward the washing machine or dryer, or the lawnmower; those had not been tampered with or sullied.

"Oh, hey, my, that's my car," Randy remembered, thinking about Heather's 2008 Toyota Camry.

Truthfully, had Heather just taken the children's' things and her things and the car, Randy would have written it all off. He would still be quite sad, would still mourn the loss of the relationship with the beautiful woman, would mourn the loss of the relationship with her three beautiful children. But he would have let her keep the furniture, the clothing, the bicycles and the car.

But the wanton, immature and vindictive destruction of his home, the home he'd provided for them, Randy would not let this matter slide. This Damien Hebert would pay for this.

"She still have a key to this house?" Rochelle asked, still making notations on her tablet.

"Shit. Yeah, I guess; I mean, I don't see her keys anywhere," Randy said.

"Tried calling her?" Rochelle asked, preparing to put in the requisition for a DNA kit for the fecal matter in the master bedroom.

""No, I sure haven't," Randy said, digging his cell phone out.

"Hell. Low," a giggling man answered the phone.

"Damien, is that, give me my phone," Randy heard Heather demand.

"Bitch, I'm talking here," Randy heard just before the phone call was abruptly ended.

"Well, she hasn't blocked my number," Randy said to Rochelle.

"Give me," Rochelle ordered, holding out her hand.

"Yeah? What you want, bitch," Damien ordered.

"Sir, this is Officer Rochelle Esposito with the Baylor Lake Police Department. Where are you?" Rochelle snapped, using a very authoritative voice.

"Officer Ro...aw that pussy. That God damned pussy. He called the fucking..." Damien squealed, then ended the call.

It took less than forty minutes for the Baylor Lake Police Department to locate Damien Donald Hebert. He had listed his cousin's address with Vanessa Leblanc, his probation officer. Baylor Lake Police Department asked the Kimble Police Department to pick up one Damien Donald Hebert.

The next morning Randy was sitting in the courtroom when Damien was brought into the courtroom. Randy's heart broke again when he saw a haggard, defeated looking Heather standing and watching the procession of the men being herded into the courtroom.

"Mr. Randy! Hi!" Farley squealed and ran over to where Randy was seated.

"Hey Buddy, aw, hey, what happened to your hair?" Randy asked, then ran his hand over Farley's new crew cut hairstyle.

"Dad made me cut it all off," Farley said, face dark with anger.

"Hi Mr. Randy," Danielle chirped.

"Aw, well, hell, it'll grow back," Randy assured the boy, giving him another hug. "Hi Danielle."

"I, so why? Why'd you call the police?" Heather demanded bitterly, jerking Farley out of Randy's embrace.

"Why'd, you, you're joking right?" Randy goggled. "Your husband pissed all over the place, broke all my stuff, kicked holes in everything and you're asking why? Bitch, you're delusional, you hear?"

"He, no, no he didn't," Heather gasped, horrified.

"Then you mean, you're the one done all that?" Randy snapped angrily. "Oh, and hey, where's my ring, huh?"

"Your, I, I left the ring right there on your nightstand, in that dish," Heather said.

"Then you need to find out where Damien has it," Randy said, managing to give Danielle a quick hug.

"I, God. Just. God. God damn it, God damn it," Heather chanted.

"Hi Mr. Randy; Momma, Daddy's over there," Briah informed Heather.

"Hi Sweetie," Randy said, hugging Briah.

"You. You're serious. You, he really done all...God damn it," Heather mumbled now looking at the bloated balding Damien Donald Hebert as he glumly sat with the other prisoners in their orange jumpsuits.

When Damien was finally called to stand with the public defender, Judge Marie Robichaux shook her head. She listened to the list of charges from Kenneth Prejean, Jr. the Assistant District Attorney. The judge then turned and looked at Tanisha Brown-Jones, the public defender. Tanisha Brown-Jones simply said 'not guilty,' already looking for the paperwork for her next client.

"So now what we do?" Briah asked Heather as Damien was directed to once again sit with the other detainees.

"I, I guess we go on back to Robert's," Heather said.

"But I want to go with Mr. Randy," Danielle said, loudly.

"Well, you can't go with Mr. Randy," Heather snapped bitterly, glaring at Damien.

Damien ignored his girlfriend and her three kids. He ignored everything; just sat and waited to be carted back to the Kimble Lockup.

"Guess you going back to Mumphrey, huh Hebert?" another detainee said.

"Yeah, I guess. Shit, ain't like it's no big deal," Damien shrugged.

"Well, bet Snickle's going be happy get his baby back, huh?" the other man giggled.

Janice, Randy's mother tried to be supportive, but Randy could tell she was relieved that the wedding was cancelled. Uncle Jack was more sympathetic than Randy's mother. And Uncle Jack's commiserating about the loss of Briah and Farley and Danielle did twist the knife in Randy's heart just a little more. With a heavy sigh, Randy reminded Uncle Jack he had some cleaning up to do.

Randy was busy carting sections of the carpet and padding out to the dumpster when Shannon whipped her carbon fiber 21 speed road bike around the corner. Her beautiful brown eyes opened wide as she saw her neighbor outside, large dumpster in the driveway.

"What happened? What are you doing?" Shannon demanded, pumping her brakes to coast to a stop.

"God damn, ought to be illegal ride around like that," Randy thought, looking at the two perfect globes hanging out of Shannon's red denim cutoff shorts.

Out loud, he told the beautiful nineteen year old girl that Heather's old boyfriend had decided he'd ruin several thousands of dollars' worth of carpet. Shannon asked how Randy knew it was Miss Heather's old boyfriend.

"Because Heather and the kids moved out," Randy said and Shannon gasped, brown eyes wide.

"Well, house ain't going clean itself," Randy sighed and walked to the garage again.

"They, they moved out?" Shannon demanded, walking her bicycle to the lip of the garage.

"Mm hmm, 'fraid so," Randy said.

Ten minutes later, Shannon entered the home through the garage. Randy saw that she now wore a snug tee shirt and some grubby, stained sweat pants. Her long blond hair was tied back and wrapped in a bandana. Her beautiful eyes took in the sight of the damage and she shook her head. Then she bent and began assisting Randy in tearing out the old carpet.

"What are you doing?" Randy asked as he hefted the other end of the strip of carpet.

"What you mean?" Shannon asked. "Oh, hey, where you planning on getting your carpet? Flooring XL, on Turner's got the best. Well, I think it's the best. Mom says she likes Waggamon's, next to Wilson's Fabrics, come on; this is getting heavy. Walk. She likes Waggamon's because they do it next day, but believe me, you going pay for next day. You give me a key, I can let XL in if you're off-shore when they come."

"Oh?" Randy asked, amused at Shannon's suggestion that he give her a key to the house.

"You keeping that couch? A nice green or brown, no, no, I seen this shag? Got beige and brown and real dark brown; that would look so pretty in here," Shannon said as she grabbed the next section of carpet.

"Uh huh," Randy said, watching Shannon's nipples rub and rasp against the snug material of her tee shirt.

The nubs poked through the thin material of her tee shirt. When they stepped onto the driveway, out in the direct sunlight, Randy could see that Shannon's areolae were a light brown, roughly the size of a half dollar coin. Her unfettered breasts jostled and jiggled when they swung the heavy carpet up and into the dumpster.

"You changing out that blue in Farley's room? With his bunk bed, I bet a burgundy would be just right in his room," Shannon said as she helped Randy move the bulky couch off of the last piece of carpeting.

"Sweetheart, they took the bunk beds with them," Randy said, tears coming to his eyes.

"Oh. I, uh, oh," Shannon said.

Randy shook his head when he saw the sly little smile play across Shannon's lips. As he bent to the task of sweeping the bare concrete floor, he wondered what he would find if he actually did give the young woman a key to his home.

"You, uh, you think you going keep the walls this color?" Shannon asked as she now sauntered along the hall from living room to front door. "Oh, I bet that hurt; look. He hit the stud right here."

"What color you think we ought do?" Randy asked, pouring some ammonia into a gallon of warm water.

"You do that carpet? A nice sand. Nothing too dark," Shannon said. "Oh! You know what? A pale pink. You know, something really wake this area up."