Chapter 8

CAN I HAVE SOME, TOO?....

I was awakened at nine by a phone call. The voice on the other end was gruff and deadly. "This is Senator D.-speaking," he announced." My daughter Laura is on her way over to see you, Nelson. Make it the last time. Get rid of her."

"Fill me in, Senator. What does she know?"

"She knows about the ten thousand dollars, what else?"

"What about the picture?"

"No, I didn't show it to her. I didn't have the heart to destroy Laura's image of her mother. I'll deal with my wife personally. Right now, all I want is you out of Laura's life. Understood? You've got your money. If you ever have anything to do with my family again, I'll personally kill you, you ... his rage cut off his words. He banged down the receiver.

I leaped out of bed, slipped into a robe and was preparing myself a cup of coffee, when the doorbell rang.

Laura was standing in the doorway, crying, staring at me with accusing eyes. "Is it true?" she asked. "Did you accept money from my father?"

God she made me feel rotten. Well, I guess I was, and this was no time to change images. I'd gone out too far. "Sure," I admitted. "I took the money. If you think I thrive on love alone, baby, you got another think coming. I guess you're old man told you about the line of work I'm in."

"Yes," she said tearfully. "I called him a liar."

"It's true, sweetheart. You're a good-looking kid, but why should I marry you? With all the wealthy broads around, why should a guy like me get saddled for life to one girl when I can have them by the dozens?"

"And you never meant any of the things you said?" She was willing to give me every chance, the benefit of any doubt.

I had to get rough. "What is it with you, Laura? Do you want your cake and eat it too? Things don't work that way. So I didn't love you ... and I never intended marrying you. So what? You've got no cause for complaint. I gave you what you wanted. You wanted to live ... you wanted to taste life. Okay, honey you tasted life from the best stud in Frisco. Now you've graduated and I hand you a diploma. This is the kiss-off. Good bye, sweetheart, and good luck on your next trip around. I'd apprecited it, if you would recommend me to some of your girl friends at school."

Tears, of angry frustration, trickled from her eyes. "You bastard!" she screamed and smacked me across the face. Then she turned on her heels and ran down the hall. She buzzed for the elevator but didn't wait for it to arrive. She disappeared down the stairs and that's the last I ever saw of Laura D.-.

That evening I was sitting alone in a bar doing a fairly decent job of drinking myself blind. I guess I loved that kid as much as I'm capable of loving anybody. The news came on the TV set over the bar and a picture of the Senator and Laura flashed on the tube.

I was knocked right off my stool when the announcer reported that Laura had cracked up in her car out on the highway. She had been doing ninety when the car rolled over an embankment. Laura was in the hospital. Her condition was critical. The doctors had little hope for her survival. The report went on to say that the State Troopers called it an acident, but knowing Laura as I did, knowing her to be a careful driver, I knew it was attempted suicide.

Now I knew I was washed up in Frisco. If Laura died, my name would be mud. The Senator would have his entire administration out gunning for me.

I had to get out of town ... and I had to get out fast.

Luckily I had plenty of money, I had my car. For some time I had realized that the complaint department of the phone company was not going to be my lifetime career. Actually I was ready to move on. I had gotten as much as I could out of San Francisco. I had left my mark on that town. Once a guy leaves his mark, it's down hill all the Way. The best thing to do is to pull out and seek greener fields.

Greener fields reminded me of Richfield! I hadn't been there in almost ten years. My father had died quite a few years ago, and Odell Brown had written me a few months ago to inform me that my mother had passed on and had left me the shack and the property, where I had been born and raised. I felt guilty: I hadn't kept in contact with my mother. When I left Richfield I had left all ties behind, except my contact with Odell. Now that I had a little money, I thought it might make amends to return to Richfield, putting up two marble stones over my parents graves, maybe fix up the little house and live there for awhile.

It would be nice to see Odell again. He was married now and settled down. I was curious to meet his wife and find out what kind of a chick had hooked him.

I was going home. It was a good feeling.

Driving up the Pacific coast on Route one, I felt as if I was leaving the past ten years of my life behind me. A deep feeling of relief swept through me, and I sighed contentedly as I turned off Route One in order to hit route 101 that went through Santa Rosa and eventaully put me on the highway leading to Richfield.

"Laura! Laura!"

Only my thoughts of Laura ... not knowing if she was alive or dead ... haunted me.

During a brief coffee stop at a diner, I phoned Odell and let him know I was on my back to Richfield. He suggested that I stop by his house first and then together we would drive out to my family's shack and look the place over.

"If you make it here by six o'clock," Odell had said, "plan on staying here with us for dinner. Estelle has heard so much about my little brother, she'll be delighted."

I opened up on the highway to about seventy and arrived in Richfield before six, a record run of some sort. I went directly to Odell's house and parked my Mustang behind his beautiful new station wagon in front of the huge stone house on the narrow side road that angled off the highway. I got out, mopped my brow with a handkerchief, and stretched my road-weary body. The sky was streaked with brilliant shades of red and blue. It had been a clear, hot day. There was not a cloud in the sky. As I surveyed the breathtaking beauty of the landing surrounding Odell's house, I was suddenly struck with the charm of Richfield. I had never thought so before. But now, after almost ten years in Frisco, it looked very good. My fatigue gradually gave way to a feeling of intense exhilaration.

Reluctantly, I tore my hungry eyes away from the hills of Richfield with their new spring raiment of light green and turned toward the ani-cient stone steps beside Odell's station wagon. The steps were steep and treacherous, with numerous jagged gaps in them where pieces of flagstone had broken away.

I climbed slowly, to conserve my energy for my welcome home.

When I finally reached the top, I walked along a short slate walk and knocked loudly on the latched screen door. The house once had been a roadside inn. Odell had spent quite a bit of money to fix it up. He had made many new improvements since I had last seen it.

A slim, curvaceous figure in a pale yellow housecoat appeared at the door, with two tiny tots trailing after her. "You must be Archer?" I was immediately struck by her youth and beauty. She had a heart-shaped face and big blue eyes. Her sandy-colored hair was worn casually and sometimes fell over a part of her face. For such a petite woman, she had an unusually deep ovice.

"And you're Estelle," I countered.

She nodded, pulled her children away and held open the screen door for me. I was startled when she embraced me as if we were long separated relatives.

"I've heard so many things about you, Archer, I really feel like I've known you as long as Odell." Then she pressed firmly against me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Feeling her tiny breasts pressing against mine, did something to me. I crushed that slim little body suddenly tighter in my arms as the heat burned through me in ever-increasing intensity. My gut felt like a blazing furnace.

Abruptly, Estelle broke free, leaving me breathless with desire.

She and her two tiny children looked up at me strangely. I suddenly felt embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Estelle. I got carried away. I'm so glad to meet you at long last." I turned away from her and gazed down upon her two children.

Estelle proudly introduced them ... a boy and a girl. "This little sexpot is Nancy Brown, age two and a half. The boy is Odell, Jr ... and if he grows up and takes after his afther, God help the rest of us."

We stood in the foyer for awhile discussing the kids and the house. I mentioned how nice the old place looked and Estelle went on to explain the things that she and Odell were still planning to improve the place. Finally our light, mundane conversation ran out and we stood staring questioningly at each other. I'm sure she was as attracted to me in that instant as I was to her.

"Well let's not just stand here in the doorway," Estelle finally broke in. "Come on in, sit down and have a drink. You must be tired."

'I am," I replied as I followed her through the living room into another room that was decorated like a rathskeller barroom.

The children were tagging at our heels, screaming and laughing, excited over the prospect of company. Estelle whirled around to them and shoved them out of the barroom. "All right, you little monsters," she growled, "upstairs and get dressed for dinner. And Odell, don't forget .to wash behind your ears." She leaned over to kiss little Nancy on the top of the head, then screeching loudly, the two children happily galloped out. "You love them," Estelle said to me as she crossed in behind the bar, but sometimes you want to murder them. What can I fix you to drink, Archer."

I had been looking around for Odell, who I expected to barge out to greet me long before this. "Where's Odell?"

"Oh, he said you wouldn't get here before six-thirty," Estelle explained. "He drove down to the liquor store to get a few things. He'll be right back. In the meantime, relax and have a drink."

I did just that, I seated myself on a bar stool, rested my arms on the bar and watched Estelle make us two drinks. The housecoat she wore, although primly closed at the neck, was missing one strategic button, which allowed enough of a gap to expose a liberal expanse of pink-white cleavage to my eager eyes. Her round little rump undulated maddeningly under the yellow housecoat as she reached up for two glasses on a shelf behind the bar. The garment clung so tightly over the enticing curves of her hips that I could see the outlines of her panties.

My mouth watered as I felt an immediate reaction lashing through me like a raging fever. Nervously I withdrew a fresh package of cigarettes from my jacket pocket and lighted one. It enabled me to pull my eyes off her and exhale a camouflaging cloud of gray smoke, behind which I silently gritted my teeth.

"What made you decide to leave San Francisco," Estelle prompted, totally unaware of my hypnotic stare.

I think my face must have reddened to my ears, as I suddenly wondered just how much Odell had told her about me. Probably everything. "Well," I replied weakly, "I've been away so long, I've managed to save a little money, so I thought it would be nice to come back home and maybe take up painting again."

Estelle smirked knowingly, as she reached over the bar and placed a drink in front me. "Odell says you hate Richfield, and you're too lazy to paint. So what was it, Archer? Girl trouble in San Francisco?"

"Something like that," I admitted with a sheepish grin. As she crossed out from behind the bar with her own drink, I took a nervous puff on my cigarette and rubbed my nose in embarrassment. I don't know what it was with Estelle ... what she had, that shook me up so much. I think maybe I expected Odell's wife to be dull, a small town, uninteresting matron, and I was stunned to discover her to be just the opposite ... so much so, that I couldn't figure out why a girl as good-looking as Estelle, would have married Odell in the first place.

As she lifted herself up on a barstool beside me, I got another titillating glance at her gently curving cleavage. Her breasts were small though firm and full. I gritted my teeth again to suppress an overwhelming urge to plunge my hand into that inviting valley of creamy flesh before me. I watched her as she drew a cigarette from my pack on the bar.

"So," she said curtly, "are you really serious about going back to your painting?"

"Well," I replied haltingly, "I have to do something".

'I know Odell is delighted that you're back. Several months ago he was saying to me that you would make a wonderful subject for a book."

"Who me?" I questioned.

"I even think he's started a file of notes on you. They contain all your letters," she explained, then trailed off into laughter. "All your letters. That's funny. Since I've been married to Odell, I think he's received exactly five letters from you ... That's less than one a year." She sipped delicately from her glass and returned it to the bar. Her slim right hand picked up her cigarette from the ashtry and brought the smoking cylinder to her lovely, sensuous lips. Smoke issued slowly through her pinched nostrils.

In many ways, I thought to myself, she is a beautiful woman. Although her features were irregular, but all together they represented an attractive sight to behold.

"Is Odell working on anything right now?" I asked, trying to keep from concentrating on her.

"I think so," she answered. "What is it?"

"Ask Odell, when he comes in, but I think it's you life story."

"Oh, come on, Estelle, stop teasing," I said hoarsely. "What would be so interesting about my life?"

Estelle shrugged, looked at me and couldn't help laughing. 'Odell says you're over-sexed. I'd be interested in reading about something like that"

I sighed heavily. "What would you like to know? I'll tell you." I started to light another cigargette, but my hand was trembling and I fumbled the cigarette.

"I've embarrassed you, haven't I? she asked solemnly. "I do apologize."

"No, that's quite all right," I assured her, then drained my glass. Estelle got off the stool and started around the bar to refill my glass when we heard the front screen door slam shut and Odell's booming voice.

"Where is that cocker?" his voice demanded.

"We're in her. Odell," his wife called out to him. "In the bar."

Odell appeared a moment later with several containers of mix. He sauntered over to the bar and relieved himself of the containers. Extending his hand to me, he said "Let me look at you, you bum." Odell's hair had turned quite gray and he walked with a slight stoop. "What do you think of him Estelle? If you ask me, I'd say he's gotten better looking. A few years has filled him out." Then directing his remarks back to me, he concluded. "It's good to see you, Archer, my boy."

"I feel good about being here," I said as I eased off my barstool and embraced Odell affectionately. "You old bastard. You've gotten a few years older and fatter, but you appear to be in great shape."

"I am," Odell replied, turning his attention back to his wife "I have Estelle to thank for that. I've never been happier."

"What would you like to drink?" Estelle injected. "I'm making another scotch and soda for Archer."

"Make mine the same," Odell requested. His gray eyes narrowed as they turned back to study me. I know those eyes were contemplating the reasons for my return to Richfield. "So what happened? Did you knock up some teeney-booper in San Francisco and have to get out of town?"

"Odell, I've already asked him that and embarrassed the poor boy once," Estelle explained. "Don't you do it too."

"No, that's okay," I offered. "Odell and me...."

"Odell and I," Odell corrected.

"Odell and I have never mixed words, have we, Odell?"

"No, and I know you well enough to know you had to have a pretty damn good reason to return to Richfield."

"I did, Odell, You're right. They were gunning for me."

"What about your job with the phone company?"

"I just walked out on it."

Odell sighed. "You idiot. When are you going to leave the damn women alone?"

I turned away from him, stealing a glance toward his wife for her reaction, and began rubbing my chin nervously. "Maybe now. I think I might be ready to settle down."

"No might or maybe!" Odell snapped. "You got to cut out all your whoring around and concentrate on doing something with a future."

"I plan on doing just that," I retorted earnestly. I'm going to fix over the folks shack and start painting again."

"We'll see," Odell doubtfully shook his big graying head and gulped at the drink Estelle had set before him.

An awkward silence fell. Estelle abruptly pulled out from behind the bar and announced I'll see about getting dinner on the table. Her hips moved enticingly as she left the room. I ripped my eyes away from her fascinating curves and studied Odell's puffy face. I noticed new lines in his face and the old ones running from his nose to around the sides of his mouth had deepened. I was suddenly aware that my friend had aged considerably.

"What do you think of her?" he asked abruptly.

"Think of who?" I replied.

"Of Estelle, of course."

"She's wonderful, Odell. You really picked a winner. I liked her the moment I saw her."

Odell chuckled. "Don't you get any ideas about her like you do about every other woman you meet." There was a seriousness in his tone.

"Oh, come off it, Odell. What do you think I am?"

"I know what you are. You're a horny cock-man, who never gets enough." To soften the seriousness of his accusation, he gave me a good-natured jab in the ribcage. "I realize Estelle is a lot younger than I am. The older I get the more jealous I become of her, although she never gives me any cause."

"You are getting old," I affirmed. I felt exceedingly uncomfortable. I nervously cleared my throat, gulped down the rest of my drink and stood up. "I wonder if I could wash up before dinner, Odell."

"Of course my boy. I'll show you to your room."

"My room?"

"Yes," Odell explained. "We're expecting you to stay here tonight."

"No, I don't want to put you out," I objetced.

"Donf be silly, Arch! You can't stay in your folk's place tonight. You've got to get the gas and lights turned on, get the place cleaned up. Until the place is livable, you're staying here with us. It's all settled and I don't want my buts."

Odell showed me to the guest room on the second floor and then left to get my suitcase out of the car. I felt tired and nervous. Before washing up, I flopped down on the bed, lit another cigarette, then leaned back and closed my eyes. I felt like crying. Odell was my oldest and most loyal friend. I was indebted to him in more ways than I could count ... and most of those debts I had yet to repay.

I knew now I had made a mistake in returning to Richfield. Damn it! Why did I have to be the way I was? And why the hell did Odell have to have such an attractive wife that churned up all sorts of lusty desires in the pit of my stomach. Right then and there I was plotting ways in which I could have her. It was ridiculous, I know, competing with Odell, but there it was, I'd go out of my mind, if I didn't get into Estell's pants.

Angrily,' I crushed out my cigarette in the tray on the night table next to the bed, and wondered how I was going to get through the dinner, sitting across the table from Estelle and restraining an urge to stare holes through her.

I heard Odell returning with my suitcase, I leaped off the bed and crossed into the bathroom to avoid him. I was afraid that Odell, knowing me the way he did, might detect the sensuous torment in my face.