*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Also, this is not a 'stroke' story. It is a Romance; the sex is minimal. So, if you're looking for a 'stroke' story, hit the backspace key on your keyboard.
Chapter 1
"Love, love, love the pepper salad at Dead End," Darren Richards said.
"Love, love, love half-naked girls running around there too, huh?" Elise asked, turning from Highway 52 onto Mississippi Drive.
"Oh, hey! They got half-naked girls there TOO?" Darren asked, freckled faced a mask of surprise.
"Uh huh, what I've heard," Elise agreed and turned left onto Reagan Road.
"Nice. These really are some nice buildings," Darren commented, looking around.
"Yeah, my cousin, well, he's my cousin after my dad married my mom, Paul Robichaux? He's the one built these," Elise said with familial pride.
"No kidding? I know Blanchard went out of business right after Robichaux got the contract," Darren commented.
Nothing looked amiss so Elise drove through to Highway 19, and then turned onto Highway 27.
"Pepper salad, huh? What's in it?" Elise asked.
"Got banana peppers, red and green peppers, a couple of jalapenos, you know, for a little bite?" Darren said.
"Any protein?" Elise asked. "I'm not going to survive on just vegetables alone."
"Oh, yeah, grilled chicken. And they put this salad dressing, home made stuff, damn it's good!" Darren enthused.
"Come on; lunch time," Elise smiled and pulled up in front of the Dead End Bar.
There were four tables occupied by customers; none looked up when the two uniformed police officers entered the dark lounge. The girl on the stage was down to her panties and was slowly sliding those down, exposing her skimpy thong. Her nipples were discretely covered by two glittery pasties. Two people sat at the bar, more interested in a baseball game on the large screen television than in the attractive strawberry blonde that danced.
"I know that song," Darren commented as 'Hungry like the Wolf,' faded out.
"Duran Duran, big hit in the eighties," Elise smiled as she approached the bar.
Elise sat at the bar, choosing a stool that let her sees the entire bar. Darren sat down next to her.
"Might want to sit on the other side; I'm left handed," Elise reminded him.
"Oh yeah," Darren nodded.
"Officer," Kirsten nodded in greeting, smiling pleasantly.
The former Meth head, now clean and sober for six months, no longer resented and mistrusted the police. Now, she regarded them as friends, as welcome guests at the Dead End Bar.
"Kirsten, how's it going?" Elise asked, smiling, eyes still scanning the lounge.
"Good, good, picked up my six month key tag last night," Kirsten said proudly.
"You go, girl," Elise's smile widened.
"Key tag?" Darren asked.
"N.A." Elise told him. "Kirsten, what's the special today?"
"Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, milk gravy" Kirsten answered.
"Give me that, please, just water to drink,' Elise said.
"Thought you were going to try the pepper salad," Darren said.
"Ever had her chicken fried steak?" Elise asked. "Stuff's almost as good as my mom's."
"Give me the pepper salad," Darren ordered. "Water."
The dancer came over, chatted with Elise, flirted with Darren, then poured herself a diet Coke and disappeared into the back of the lounge.
"And here you are," Kirsten said, putting the plates in front of the officers.
"Thanks, Kirsten," Elise said, again sweeping her eyes around the lounge.
'I Think I'm Paranoid' by Garbage began to play and a slightly pudgy girl came out and began to gyrate to the music.
"Two words for her," Darren whispered loudly to Elise. "Slim-Fast."
"Two words for you," Elise said, swallowing her mouthful. "Grow up."
Despite Kirsten's protests that cops in uniform eat free, Elise and Darren each left a five dollar 'tip' on the bar.
Again, as she walked to the door, Elise's eyes never stopped moving. The sound of motorcycles filtered in over Metric's 'Help I'm Alive' and Elise paused.
Little John barged in, followed by Librarian and a third biker.
The six foot tall, three hundred and forty nine pound Little John, high on methamphetamines lumbered past Elise and Darren. Just before passing her, though, Little John reached out and slapped her on her rear end.
"Nice ass, bitch," he laughed.
Elise did not hesitate for a moment, she just reacted.
Her left hand shot out, slamming into Little John's solar plexus. Her left foot kicked out behind Little John's knee, toppling the large man backward.
He landed on top of a startled Librarian and the third biker.
"God damn cunt!" Little John grunted, struggling to his feet.
X.X.X
"Could have just let him off with a warning," Darren grumbled as they filled out the mountain of paperwork.
"Could have," Elise agreed mildly.
"I mean, most they'll do is give him a fine," Darren went on.
"Probably," Elise shrugged. "But it'll be on his record; he does it again, it'll be a bit bigger fine."
"Uh huh," Darren grumbled.
Coming down was never an easy thing for Little John. Coming down in a jail cell that reeked of stale sweat, vomit and urine was worse.
"Fucking bitch!" Little john screamed down the corridor. "Ass is fucking grass next time I see it, hear me?"
"Man, bitch, just go to sleep, huh?" another drunk complained. "Ain't shit you can do until morning, huh?"
Chapter 2
Mrs. Givens tightened her jaw firmly, waddled up the driveway, then knocked on her neighbor's front door.
Elise carefully checked the peephole and blinked in surprise as she saw her neighbor's stern face looking intently at the peephole.
Every time Elise had gone to her neighbor's home for any purpose, the African-American woman loudly proclaimed "I don't let no white people up on my porch!"
Yet, here she was, standing on Elise's porch.
"Mrs. Givens, hi, how are you?" Elise asked pleasantly, opening her door wide.
"I need to ask you a favor," the woman snapped, getting right down to business.
"Of course, anything, if I can," Elise smiled, gesturing. "Why don't you come on in?"
"Thank you," the woman muttered, entering the small living room.
She looked around solemnly. The girl's furniture was neat, clean. It was obvious that the girl did not have a four year old grandson living with her, making a mess everywhere. Or an ill-behaved puppy making messes everywhere.
"Like some coffee?" Elise asked. "Just made a pot."
"That would be nice," Mrs. Givens grumbled, urging her bulk forward.
"Now, I don't make it as good as my mom," Elise warned, getting down an extra mug.
"Well, I've never had your mother's coffee so I wouldn't know," Mrs. Givens grumbled.
Elise bit back the retort; she was being polite, neighborly to the miserable old woman, but the woman was not making hospitality come easy.
"What you take in it?" Elise asked.
"Cream and sugar please," Mrs. Givens said, easing her bulk into a chair.
"Me too," Elise said. "My dad says real cops drink it black; I just can't do that, though."
Elise put the coffee mug in front of her neighbor, flung her long blonde hair back out of her eyes, then took a seat across from Mrs. Givens.
"So, what's up?" Elise finally broke the silence.
"Need to ask a favor," Mrs. Givens repeated.
"Okay," Elise said and waited.
"I've got to go in the hospital, ain't nothing serious, just some lady problems, you know? But I'm be in there two, maybe three days," Mrs. Given s said.
"Okay," Elise said and waited.
"Well, need somebody look after Henry," Mrs. Givens said.
"Okay," Elise agreed.
"Um, and Sam too," Mrs. Givens went on.
"Well of course, kind of expected that," Elise agreed.
"So, um, you watch them?" Mrs. Givens asked, staring at a spot on the wall above Elise's head.
"Of course I will," Elise agreed.
Mrs. Givens did not tear her eyes from the spot above Elise's head.
"I am going to need some information, though," Elise said.
Over a second mug of coffee, Mrs. Givens gave Elise the information she requested. Then she eased her bulk out of the chair and left the woman's house.
She did feel a slight twinge of conscience for lying to Elise. She had declared that Henry was potty trained, but Henry had been extremely resistant to the training and quite often had 'accidents.' She had also said that Sam was house broken, but Sam was not. The ill-behaved beast would often sneak behind a piece of furniture to urinate.
"Oh well, bitch's house smells too white anyway," Mrs. Givens decided as she let herself into her own home.
X.X.X
Iris Gauchet enjoyed her job as Housekeeper for the widowed Dr. Charles LaPointe. The work was minimal; other than cleaning and cooking, she also looked after Dr. LaPointe's three year old daughter, Carmen.
Adding a second child to her duties would not be any imposition, she assured Elise when Dr. LaPointe's sister in law called.
Sam, however, would have to stay at Elise's house. Richard's dog, Nemo, was an extremely territorial and temperamental dog.
"Not a problem," Elise assured the woman. "We have a crate at the office; Sam can stay in that while I'm on duty."
Elise quickly cut her grass, raked and bagged the clippings, then drove to Early's Grocery Store.
Mrs. Givens' assertions of 'Oh no, he'll eat whatever you put in front of him' had not fooled Elise; she had two nephews and a niece. Each one of them was very finicky eaters.
Mrs. Givens' bald faced lie hadn't fooled Elise either; she could tell, by looking at Henry's clothing that the boy was not potty trained. There was always the telltale bulk of a diaper underneath the boy's pants.
So, she bought a few boxes of diapers, judging that Henry would be between thirty to fifty pounds in weight.
Finally, she also picked up three coloring books and a big box of crayons.
"Hi," Paige mumbled, not looking up as she rang up Elise's purchases.
"Hi," Elise agreed, watching a group of teenage boys that seemed too interested in the liquor section of the store.
Paige gave her the total and scanned Elise's debit card.
Noticing that they were not invisible, the teenage boys walked away from their target.
X.X.X
Henry was excited about going to stay with 'that white woman next door,' Miss Leesey was a nice woman and often talked with him. She treated him like a young man, which he was, instead of like a little kid.
"I'm going tonight?" he asked as he played with the hot dog on his plate.
"No, not tonight, tomorrow night, how many times I got to tell you that?" Mrs. Givens snapped.
