Lauren Eleven

Lauren

Eleven

Chase and Ray are my best friends. We've known each other since grade school. When I said I was marrying Alicia one of them, I don't remember which but I guess it doesn't matter, asked If I was sure. When I said yes they just said okay.

When I divorced her they were there for moral support.

I called Chase to see if he'd be available for a BBQ on the coming weekend. "Hey man, I was about to call you. Ray and his wife are coming over Sunday and I hope you can come too. Shit, we haven't seen you since forever."

"Can I bring someone?"

"Come on man. You know you never have to ask. Hey is she special?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Not the bitch?"

"God No! "

~~~

Sunday was sunny and warm so Lauren insisted we take the Triumph. We arrived at Chase's just after one. He has a large house in one of the newer parts of town and his wife's Caddy sat in the driveway. Ray's pickup beside it.

I pulled in behind the Cadillac.

"Um, just what does your friend do?"

"He'll tell you he's in waste management. Really he's a trash collector. In the vernacular - a garbage man."

"And he can afford this?"

"Between his regular and over time pay he probably makes more than you and I - combined."

"Damn."

"Exactly."

~~~

Music came from the backyard so I led the way around. The first sight was Chase's wife Rhonda standing on the diving board in all her red headed, full figured, bikini clad glory.

"John!" She yelled as she jumped into the water.

I shook Chase and Ray's hands and turned to introduce Lauren when Milly jumped on me. Arms around my neck she gave me a big kiss and asked when I'd take her away from Ray and make her an honest woman.

"

AH HUM!"

Milly looked over my shoulder. "Ooops. Did I just fuck up?" She whispered in my ear.

"Milly, I'd like you to meet Lauren."

"Um, hi?" She said while slipping off me. "That's just my way of greeting John. It doesn't really mean anything."

"Take me away? That sounded like something."

I was about to explain Milly when I saw the glint in Lauren's eyes. "Milly," I thought, "You've met your match."

"No, no ..."

Everyone else was starting to look nervous, Ray trying to explain his wife, Chase looking worried.

"Listen Sister. This is

MY

cowboy. He's got my spur marks on him. Okay?"

"And

You,

I know you like having your hands on butts, but you had better keep your hands off those."

All Milly could do was stutter ... until Lauren couldn't stifle herself any longer. She grabbed Milly in a big hug, "It's okay, you just have to give him back when I want him."

"Shit. Don't do that. You scared the hell out of me. I like you."

I introduced her around and the women dragged her off to another part of the yard. All I could make out was a bunch of looks my way and laughter. I actually took that as a good sign - no blood spilled.

I turned to the guys. Like I said I've known them forever, and they will be brutally honest with me. They had their doubts about Alicia and tried to talk me down. But I wasn't thinking with my big head.

So I asked them what they thought of Lauren.

"Good looking woman."

"Does she have a job?"

"Can she cook?"

"How is she in bed?"

"Yes she is, yes she does, somewhat, none of your fucking business."

Ray looked at Chase. "Damn, the man is serious."

They popped a beer in my hand and we stood around the grill catching up, them talking about their jobs -Ray "My job reeks but I just smell money" with his standard joke. Chase going on about a plumbing contract he had just landed. Me telling about my travels to various jobs.

After lunch Ray said he had a new project to show us, so we all trooped behind him to the garage. Now, Ray is a Mopar man from way back and always has one rebuilding so I was surprised when this bare framed something appeared. Up on jack stands, wheels and brakes off, fenders gone and nothing of an interior. All I could think was "when did he get into trucks?"

"Bronco!" I looked around. Lauren was running hands over the frame. "What year? First gen?"

Ray was going "Uh yeah, '66."

"My dad has one, it must have a million miles on it."

"The guy I got it from, really old, like sixty, seventy, yaknow, I was looking at a Satellite he was selling, but didn't like the condition, too much cancer. Anyway he had this, and it kinda talked to me. Good shape, no rust, engine turned over."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I'm thinking a restomod, crate V-8, disc brakes all around, up date the interior."

Lauren looked it over, ran her hand over the cowl. "If you restore it to original, I'll pay for parts plus five thousand dollars."

That raised my eye brows.

"Ten thousand?"

"Seven five and it's a deal?"

"Deal!"

~~~

On our way home I asked if she knew how to drive it. "

Puh-lease!

My dad had me driving his when he had to work the pedals. I grew up driving it."

~~~

Every few months I check in on the estate. Dad may have made his money trading stock, but he was smart enough to have some of it stashed elsewhere.

He'd set things up once he was in the black with three accounts; the active, trading account. The salary account where he paid himself, and therefore paid the utilities, food, etc. And finally a saving account managed by a separate money manager.

The account was set up (of course) at Essex and Whitehouse with a licensed money manager.

I asked the receptionist to notify Natasha Kelly I was here. She's been my financial advisor since I became executor. Ten years my senior, Natasha has been through the financial wars. She's dealt with boom and bust times, including the worst recession since the 1930s. She'd taken over the account when the previous manager had retired.

She was with another client, and since I was literally dropping in she asked I return in an hour. Okay, back to the receptionist and I asked if Bill Whitehouse were busy.

She called his Assistant, and a moment later relayed that Mr. Whitehouse said come up.

~~~

While technically not family, Bill Whitehouse and Roger Essex were in every other sense my uncles. Since I was born.

As I grew, if I had a problem or a question I couldn't go to Dad or Mom about, they were there.

And the plane that went down with my parents - it belong to a friend/client of Roger Essex. And Rogers wife and daughter were also on it. Roger was supposed to go with them but an important client had a problem, so he remained behind.

And he was going through 'survivor's guilt' since. Roger hadn't been back to the office since the funeral.

~~~

Bill greeted me warmly with a handshake and a hug, asked how I was doing and offered me a seat. We chatted for a bit and then I turned to why I'd wanted to see him. "Bill, we've always been able to talk honestly, haven't we?"

Well of course his defenses went up. Yes, why?"

"At the picnic you were introduced to Lauren Wilcox ..."

"Yes ..."

"as paralegal in the firm. You were dismissive of her."

"John, where is this going?"

"Well, two ways. First of all you know my business - solving other's problems."

"I don't have a business problem."

"If you're dismissive of underlings, if you treat them as 'less than' full lawyers you do.

Who does the vast majority of the research, interviews, filings in the firm? Not the Lawyers. Technically your Paralegals bring in sixty percent of the firms income."

"I didn't realize that. But you said two ways?"

"I was with Lauren Wilcox at the picnic. I was her date. You were dismissive of the woman I was with. Bill, you are the closest thing to family for me, but that is not something I will abide."

He sat back in his chair, fingers together at his mouth, looking directly at me. After several moments he sat forward. "The part about the Paras - I'll look into that, but knowing you, everything you said is true. Now, about Miss Wilcox, you have my apology and I will offer one to her also. I assume you two are serious?"

"We're serious but don't mention this to her. She's already giving me some side eye about knowing you and Roger."

"As you wish."

"Speaking of Roger, is he still holed up at his lake house?"

Bill sighed deeply. "I don't think he's left it for any reason at all. His house keeper does all the shopping, He hasn't seen his son in well over a year. Even his doctors have to go out there."

"Anything I can do?"

"I doubt it. I've tried talking to him but nothing I say penetrates. He just says 'thanks for coming'. I know he feels guilty for putting Janice and Cathy on that plane, and your folks too, but what happened wasn't his fault. he just won't accept that."

~~~

Roger's wife Janice found the lake house not long after they married. It was a run down but solid farm house set a hundred yards or so back from the lake. I don't know what they paid but it couldn't have been much.

Over the next years they poured themselves into renovating and expanding it. There isn't a room, piece of furniture or memento that doesn't reflect Janice.

I'd like to say I was the caped crusader who rescued Roger, but I can't. I drove out, spent well over an hour talking with him, tried to make him see the accident was just that.

Roger just escorted me to the door and very politely said 'Thanks for coming', and closed the door behind me.

I sat in the car for the longest time. Just unable to move.

~~~~~