Zinnias

Now she walked around the kitchen and dining area, eyes sweeping over tiled floor and faux granite countertops and cabinets. Randy mopped the floor even as his eyes followed Shannon's delectable rear end. The sweat pants were bulky and shapeless, but when she bent over to look at things, he could make out the shape of her luscious buttocks.

"In here? I'd go with an ice yellow; a demi-gloss," Shannon offered. "You like these pulls? You pick out these chrome thingies? "I'd done brass, an antique brass especially with this color cabinets."

"I'm being serious; you need get some color in here," Shannon said as she completed her circuit of the downstairs area.

"Mm hmm," Randy agreed, wringing the mop out again.

"So, got plans for supper?" Shannon asked, now strolling toward the open garage door.

"I, uh no, no, not really," Randy admitted.

Making my killer sausage and linguini," Shannon stated. "Mm, 'bout six thirty?"

"I need to bring anything?" Randy asked, amused.

"I like that Terlings Beer. Either barley or their wheat; either one's good," Shannon said and walked across the street. "Six thirty."

"Yes ma'am," Randy said and started wiping down the counters in the kitchen.

At five thirty, Randy shaved and showered. He found a nice button down shirt and a pair of khakis and his brown leather loafers.

He drove to the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store and bought a six pack of Wheat Terlings and a six pack of Barley Terlings Beer. A quick check of the Internet directed him to a half gallon bottle of a red wine. There was a bit of a traffic jam on the next aisle, so Randy pushed his cart one more aisle over and saw a large selection of flowers.

"Flowers? At a grocery store?" Randy asked out loud.

"Way to a woman's heart," a Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store employee smiled.

"Not really her heart I'm worried about," Randy thought to himself but picked up a Spring Flowers arrangement already in an attractive vase.

He found an arrangement of pink roses in a wide mouth vase and put that into his buggy as well. The store employee joked that most women would be happy with just one floral arrangement. She then asked Randy if he'd been a bad boy; was that why he needed two vases?

"You don't worry 'bout it, hear?" he smiled and pushed the buggy toward a short line.

The older woman working the register seemed familiar to Randy and he greeted her with a pleasant smile. Penny Richards reminded him that she was renting the cute little bungalow on the corner; the one with the blue windmill on the front lawn. He chatted with the neighbor, then wished her a good evening.

Claude Brown opened the door and grunted at the sight of Randy and the two vases of flowers in Randy's hand. He said nothing as he opened the door wide for Randy to enter.

"Oh I know, his warmth and outgoing personality is a bit overbearing," Kathy Brown said, glaring at her hostile husband. "Hi; I know we've waved 'hi' to one another, but hi, I'm Kathy Brown."

"Randy Wilson," Randy said, holding out the spring floral arrangement to her. "These are for you."

"Oh! Well Claude look, flowers," Kathy said.

Claude gave a grunt of acknowledgement. Kathy rolled her eyes at her husband's attitude.

"By the way, whatever that is, it smells amazing," Randy said. "Mr. Brown? You have a beautiful house, sir."

"Thank you," Claude said, the first words he'd spoken.

"Welcome. Oh, could you give me a hand here? I've got this beer and some wine and..." Randy said.

"Beer huh? Well, all right now," Claude said, becoming animated. "Oh hey now! Barley Terlings? And Wheat? Yes sir! Yes sir!"

Shannon was in the kitchen, dropping the linguini into the pot of boiling water. She squealed then cooed at the sight of her vase of pink roses.

"Oh, thank you, but you didn't have to do that," Shannon protested and plastered her lithe body against Randy.

She was dressed in a sleeveless dress of light beige; it was hard to tell where her dress ended and her legs began. Her braless breasts pushed the front of the dress out and when she turned, her taut buttocks strained against the snug material.

"It's just about ready; why don't you go to the dining room?" Shannon suggested.

"I uh, so where, where are y'all originally from?" Randy asked as they sat in the formal dining room. "I mean, what I'm smelling, that's not some Cajun dish."

"Me? I'm from Commonstead, New Jersey," Claude admitted.

"And I'm from Aitchel, Ohio," Kathy said.

"She's a 'Duhurst,'" Shannon offered, bringing in a basket of warm garlic bread.

"A what?" Randy asked.

"Duhurst? Conrad Duhurst?" Shannon suggested.

"Sweetheart, outside of Aitchel? No one knows who Conrad Duhurst is," Kathy said.

"And no one cares," Claude said, guzzling more than half of a sixteen ounce Barley Terlings in one gulp.

"Dad," Shannon admonished, face tight with disapproval.

With the meal, Kathy, Shannon and Randy had the rich red wine. Claude had four Barley Terlings Beer and only ate a small amount of the linguini and sausage in rich marinara sauce.

"I, where did you learn, I mean, this A what in Ohio? There's a lot of Italian families there?" Randy asked.

"Aitchel," Kathy said, amused.

"My momma's from the old country," Claude admitted.

"My Nonna? She taught me everything she knows," Shannon said as she speared a chunk of her homemade sausage.

"Tried to teach me," Kathy admitted. "I come close, but my Shannon; she really took to it like a duck takes to water."

"You want more?" Shannon asked, standing and grabbing Randy's plate as he scraped the last of his food into his mouth.

"I uh, if, if it's not too much trouble," Randy said.

"You need to come over on Saturday night," Kathy invited.

"Oh? What's Saturday night?" Randy asked.

"Homemade pizza," Shannon said and placed Randy's plate in front of him.

"Bet I can have you tossing the crust like a pro in no time," Shannon laughed happily and wetly kissed his cheek.

Randy couldn't help but think Briah and Farley would love to learn how to make pizza. Especially the tossing and twirling the dough. The warmth in his stomach turned to bile; he no longer had Briah and Farley or Danielle to father, to parent. Stoically, he finished his second heaping plate and declined a third helping.

Over demitasse cups of a thick brew and small bowls of lemon sorbet, Randy told them he was a welder and worked off-shore for fourteen day shifts. On occasion, when he was in, Chris Fontenot did have Randy come into the shop to help finish orders, but for the most part he had seven days off to wash clothes and cut grass and do whatever.

"Well, you're not dating my little girl," Claude drunkenly snarled, roughhewn face becoming quite dark and ugly when Randy admitted that he was a former convict and had served time in a prison in Texas.

"And if your Daddy hadn't been the honorable Judge Brown, who would have been doing twelve to twenty as a guest of the state of New York?" Kathy hissed at her husband. "He did his time, he learned his lesson, he's a homeowner and a neighbor."

"So, I suppose I won't be learning to make pizza," Randy said, finishing his dessert.

"Oh yes you will," Kathy said. "If I have to duct tape his butt to a chair, you will be in that kitchen, making pizza."

"Sir, I do understand," Randy said gently. "I have, I had Briah and Danielle; I'd want to make damned sure anyone they brought around would be right for my little girls."

"I'm not a little girl," Shannon objected, even thrusting her chest out to prove her point.

"To your Daddy? You are," Randy said, smiling into Shannon's deep brown eyes.

"But sir, like your wife says, I've done my time, I learned my lesson, and I'm doing everything I can to be a good neighbor and a good citizen," Randy addressed Claude.

"We start making the pizzas at six on the dot," Kathy said.

"So you better be here," Shannon said, playfully poking Randy's muscled bicep with her finger.

"Sir?" Randy asked.

Claude waved his arm dismissively, knowing he had lost this fight. He decided to start in on the Wheat Terlings Beer and twisted the cap off of the sixteen ounce bottle.

"Listen, this has been great, but I've had a long day," Randy said. "That clean-up really took a lot out of me."

Shannon followed Randy to the front door. Just outside, she stretched up and plastered her body against his. Her kisses were very hot, wet and insistent.

"Saturday," she repeated when they heard the porch light click on and off a few times. "Six."

It was still bright sunlight outside. Even looking directly at the bulb, they would have barely noticed whether the bulb was lighted or not. But they could hear the outside fixture clicking on and off.

"Yes ma'am," Randy smiled and squeezed her tightly, then let go as they could hear the light flicker again.

"Daddy, really," Randy heard Shannon's squeal as he walked across the street to his own home.

In his shower, Randy masturbated to the memory of Shannon's large breasts mashed against his upper abdomen. He masturbated to the memory of how her boobs had looked in her snug tee shirt as they tossed the remnants of carpet into the dumpster. He stroked himself to a knee-buckling climax to the memory of her luscious buttocks in her obscene red denim shorts.

Thursday, Randy caught up on yard work and housework. Friday, he wasted nearly the whole day, waiting on Brian Loudermilk, the claims adjuster from Young Insurance to come out. When Brian Loudermilk did arrive, he struck the dumpster with his car, sliding the large container several feet across Randy's driveway. Getting out of the car, the scrawny man was stumbling, falling down drunk. As the man weaved and tottered around the house, Randy called the Baylor Lake Police Department. He then called the DeGarde office of Young Insurance and spoke with Elizabeth Coutre, the division manager of Young Insurance. Elizabeth stated she would be right there; under no circumstances was Brian Loudermilk to get back behind the wheel of his car.

"hey, hope you don't mind, really had take a leak, hear?" Brian slurred horribly as he stepped out of the downstairs bathroom.

He giggled as he took a few pictures of the busted walls. Pointing through the atrium doors, Brian said he could have used the swimming pool, but figured Randy would prefer him use the toilet inside instead.

"Not like your kids ain't pissed in it a hundred times, huh?" Brian giggled and turned too abruptly.

"Wow, floor's slippery," Brian declared and hoisted himself up by leaning against the wall.

"Mr. Loudermilk," Elizabeth thundered, stepping into the home.

"Aw shit, what you doing here? Look, I'm on the job. All right? I'm on the job," Brian snapped at his supervisor.

"Mr. Wilson, we meet again," Officer Rochelle Esposito smiled as Randy opened the door.

The police officer administered a field sobriety test to Brian Loudermilk. Randy walked away; watching the man's ordeal was actually painful to Randy.

"Oh my God, what, what happened?" a terrified Shannon squealed, barging into the house. "There's a police car out front!"

"Nothing, Shannon. "Just a drunk shouldn't be behind the wheel of a car, that's all," Randy said.

"But you're okay?" Shannon begged, squeezing Randy tightly, peering up into his eyes.

"Yes, Sweetie, I'm okay," Randy said as Rochelle now read Brian's rights to him.

"Oh good," Shannon cooed, resting her head against Randy's chest. "I would hate for anything to happen to my man."

"The carpet down here was the same as what they have upstairs?" Elizabeth asked, coming down the stairs.

"Yes, well, the carpet in that hallway and the main bedroom," Randy said. "That blue in the other smaller bedrooms? I'm not sure why they put that in there."

He smirked as Shannon's grip tightened around him. Shannon glared with hostility at the beautiful brunette, this woman that dared invade her space.

"Forty two inch, right?" Elizabeth hazarded a guess, looking at the brackets and the torn sheetrock where the LCD television had resided.

"Uh, no, fifty four inch, Miller's had them on sale," Randy stated.

The 'beep-beep-beep' of the tow truck backing up told Randy that Huvall's Texaco had been quick to respond to Officer Esposito's request for a tow truck to take Brian Loudermilk's car away. Elizabeth took a few more photographs, wished Randy and Shannon a good afternoon then left the house through the open garage.

"Friday night's anything goes night at our house," Shannon admitted. "No telling what my Daddy's cooked."

"Well, I'm going to Chuck for a burger and beer, then next door for a round of golf," Randy invited.

"I love golf," Shannon enthused.

Shannon might love golf; she had claimed she loved bowling but she was horrible at both sports. But, just as in bowling, Shannon did enjoy bending over, stretching, posing and preening. By the seventh hole, Randy quit keeping score and just enjoyed watching the nineteen year old girl's maneuvers.

For pizza making, Shannon wore her red Daisy Duke Denim shorts and a white halter top. Claude welcomed the case of Barley Terlings Beer and both Kathy and Shannon welcomed another floral arrangement apiece.

Randy enjoyed learning to toss the pizza crusts; they made three pizzas. He did think that Briah and Farley would have loved the act of tossing the crusts, using their fists to punch and spin the crusts about. Danielle would have loved spreading the sauce onto the freshly tossed dough and spreading the cheese all around. Of course, the girl would have had more sauce on herself than on the circle of dough. More cheese would have wound up on the counter and floor than on the circle of dough.

"Did I really love Heather? Or was it them kids?" Randy asked himself.

"So, how many he dropped?" Claude drunkenly asked as the first pie was brought out.

"None," Shannon laughed and kissed Randy's cheek. "Nonna would have been proud."

They managed to demolish two and one half of the pizzas. The ice cold beers were a good compliment to the pizzas and Shannon was slightly drunk when Randy stood to leave.

"Hey," Shannon slurred slightly as they stood on the small porch of her home. "I love you."

"I care for you, a great deal," Randy admitted.

"Best way heat them up?" Shannon said, tapping the leftover pizza slices Kathy had wrapped for Randy. "Skillet. On the stove. Just kind of put some olive oil in the pan."

"Okay," Randy said, wondering if he had any olive oil.

"I love you," Shannon repeated, arms around his neck.

She kissed him passionately. Pulling away, her big brown eyes searched his eyes.

"I know, you just got your heart ripped out," she quietly said, then kissed him again. "But I, I'm going make you say it. I'm going make you say you love me too."

"We go to nine fifteen Mass at St. Elizabeth by the Lake," Shannon informed Randy as she opened the door of her home.

"I, I don't believe in none of that," Randy said.

"I didn't ask if you believe. We go to nine fifteen Mass. Dress nice, okay?" Shannon said and closed the door.

After church, the quartet went to Side By Side Steaks for their lavish brunch. Randy ordered a Mimosa with his first omelet, but before he could even take a sip, Shannon snagged the alcoholic beverage and smiled sweetly at him. With a laugh, he let her have the drink and enjoyed the dark, rich coffee with his meal.

Monday was a busy day; Randy packed his clothes for the fourteen day stint off-shore. He had the dumpster collected and he sorted through the bills that needed to be paid, and threw out what food would be sure to spoil before his return. In the midst of all of this, Heather showed up, without the kids, to return the Toyota to Randy.

Looking at Heather, Randy felt he was seeing the woman for the first time as she truly was. Randy was shocked at the sight of her, without a ton of cosmetics covering her skin. He saw Heather Aucoin's lifeless eyes, the deep set wrinkles, the strands of gray woven through her unwashed hair. And he had an epiphany.

"You, you're afraid," Randy stated firmly. "You're afraid of failing. You're afraid if you actually follow through with something, you might fail and that would just crush you. So rather than go through all that, you just quit. You just give up or sabotage it all and play the victim. Hey, can't fail if you never even try, right?"

Heather did not say anything; just hung her head as Randy spoke. She silently dug the car keys and the house keys from her purse. The keys jingled as she dropped them onto the breakfast counter.

For a long moment, neither Randy nor Heather said anything. Heather gave a soft smile and shrug of her round shoulders when Randy asked how the kids were doing.

"Oh, I uh, I found the ring," Heather said, digging the ring out of her purse. "Yeah, Damien gave it to Robert? His cousin for letting us stay there."

"How nice of Damien," Randy snapped, accepting the ring.

"I uh, know how much an Uber from here to Kimble would be?" Heather asked, turning to leave.

"Know what, Heather? I, I got no need of that car," Randy said, taking his house keys off of the cheap key ring. "You, you just hang onto it, huh?"

Randy had thought to give the car to Shannon; she seemed to cycle everywhere. Shannon had laughed and pointed to a silver Alfa Romeo Giulia Ti and showed him the key for the sports car. Randy then thought to sell the car and put the money toward the repairs of his home; after all, there was the one thousand dollar deductible with his insurance policy. But Heather, and Heather's children had a real need of the dependable car.

With a soft 'thank you,' Heather turned to leave. Heather paused and looked at the hole in the sheetrock, where Damien had struck a stud. She even reached out and ran her finger along the jagged impression.

"I, I'm sorry," Heather mumbled and ran from Randy's house.

"Me too," Randy agreed, standing at the open door. "I, you, you need to get some help, Heather. Please. Before you turn Briah and Farley and Danielle into perpetual victims like their momma; get some help."

Tuesday morning, Randy pulled his truck out of the garage. He sat and watched to make sure that the garage door went all the way down. He almost screamed when an unexpected tapping sounded at his driver's window.

"What? Girl, trying give me a heart attack?" Randy asked, seeing Shannon in a flimsy robe standing next to his truck.

Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were heavy as she stood there. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

"Bye. You be careful," Shannon said sleepily. "Love you."

She turned and shuffled back across the street. Randy saw Kathy standing in the doorway of their home, dressed in a sheer robe that hinted at the beautiful body just underneath the gauzy material. Upstairs, Randy saw a curtain move. With a shake of his head, Randy waved to the Browns then drove away.

"Ew, morning breath," Randy said to himself as he drove west.

"Uh huh, that's why your dick's super-hard, right?" Randy chuckled as he drove the silent streets to I-10.

"Hey Wilson, thought you was going on a honey moon?" a worker asked as Randy waited for the boat.

"Got cancelled," Randy said simply.

"Aww, she find herself a real man?" the man taunted. "You know, one with a real..."

"No, even worse. She hooked up with your old lady," Randy shot back.

"Don't care who started it; I'm finishing it right here, right now," a foreman snarled. "One more word out of either one of you? Send your ass on home. Don't believe me? Try me, hear?"

"Yes sir," Randy nodded.

"'Yes sir,' fucking ass kiss," the first man sneered at Randy.

"Walker, that's it. Leave. And, yes sir, I will have a nice little talk with your boy at Tri-Carter, hear?" the foreman said, pointing with his clipboard toward the parking lot.