The Gold Digger Ch 10

Carol sat silently as they drove along. With a little fear mixed with regret she thought this could be it, one way or the other things will be changed forever after this week. Thinking back on she and Bob's experiences it seemed like such a long time, but in reality it had been just over four months. She'd been caught trying to steal from the company they both worked for. A deal had been struck! The men had used and abused her. All the men excepting Bob.

He had cleverly, or foolishly, acquired an unexpected and unfair influence over her. Since then he'd alternatively humiliated, cherish, angered, enthralled, despised and loved her. Now it was all coming to a head. She guessed it all boiled down to her love, his love, and their pregnancy. By the end of the week she'd find out if it all were worth it. In her heart of hearts she believed it was and things would turn out well. Sometimes he could be so decisive. That punch in the nose Hank got was pure Clint Eastwood. Getting to the core of the matter about her time in the closet was genuine Johnny Depp. The care and concern he showed getting her well, that was real!

Going straight for medical help was all man. He didn't hesitate a second! There was no thought about his situation, and no cowardly fears about ramifications for him. It had all been about her. Yes, he could be a real action figure when the need arose. Today they even went to church! To church! Then again! Yes. Then again he seemed to slip up. When he brought her to his home he had her. He knew it too! He must have known, but he still had to play games with the dog, and the dog house gimmick made absolutely no sense. Sure she guessed all men have their stupid fantasies. Women do too. But the doghouse was crazy cruel! Even now, she had a hunch Bob wasn't completely finished playing games. She bet he was still up to something. This time though, she'd play along. There was so much to be admired in Bob. She knew he was going to make a great father, and given half a chance, he'd be a terrific husband. She believed that. She wasn't trying to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Bob was raw silk. He just needed to be molded and shaped, and she was the woman to do it. It was only for another week. Hell! She'd invested too much in this relationship to just quit.

Bob glanced over. "How about something to eat?"

"What about Annie?" Annie was Bob's dog, and he'd said they needed to get home because Annie had to be let out.

Bob gave her a sheepish grin. "I lied. Annie will be fine. She has a bladder like a metal drum. But I'm hungry." Reflecting on Carol's recent bout of dry heaves he added. "And I know you are too. I bet a nice sandwich and a cool glass of milk would do you good. What'll you think?"

Carol smiled at her erstwhile lover, tormentor, and someday husband. "Sounds great."

Bob commented. "There's a great little eatery just down the road. They only serve breakfast and lunch, but I think we'll just make it."

Carol agreed. "Lunch it is."

They drove perhaps another mile and a half before turning off on a side road that led them to a little spot named Elmer's. Bob got out and checked to see if they were still open. He saw by the sign and the crowd inside they had another hour so he went back and helped Carol from the car, and into the restaurant they went.

It was a seat yourself operation so they opted for a booth about midway down the aisle across from the lunch counter. Several men and women were seated at the counter, some drinking coffee and others just enjoying a Sunday afternoon out of the house with nothing to do.

Bob helped Carol into a seat, and sat down across from her. No sooner had they seated themselves than one of the men at the counter made a remark. "This place is getting to be a real dive. I can't believe some of the people they let in here now a days."

Bob looked up and shouted. "Red! Is that you?"

The man Bob called Red spun around in his seat and walked over to Bob and Carol's booth. "Hi Bob. I haven't seen you around here in months. Where have you been keeping yourself?"

Bob answered. "Oh here and there." Then he said. "I want you to meet someone." Pointing to Carol he said. "This is Carol. She's a very good friend of mine." Then he introduced the man. "Carol. This is Red MacKeithan. He's an old friend from high school. Pull up a seat and sit with us a while."

"Glad to." Said Red.

By then several other people had gathered around the booth. Bob had to stand up and shake several hands. He gave a couple of the women robust or gentle hugs depending on their age and what he considered appropriate. He even kissed a couple, only on the cheek though. Every time he introduced Carol it was as his good friend, very good friend, very special friend, and once, to her inexplicable delight he introduced her as his very special person. Every one seemed to be genuinely glad to see him, and everybody seemed equally glad to meet her. For the next several minutes, between the arrival and departure of the waitress, they all exchanged a dozen stories from years past. Everyone wanted to talk at once. Carol could tell they were all glad to see Bob. Everyone had a different story they to wanted her to hear. They were usually about something either incredibly clever or unbelievably foolish. To Carol it sounded like Bob had done a lot of dumb stuff in his younger years. None of the stories were especially bad; rowdy would have been the most appropriate word. Most of the stories involved something about alcohol, and had something to do with automobiles. Every story always ended with the same admonition that, if Carol were a smart girl she'd drop Bob in a hurry before he got her in trouble. She laughed to herself, if they only knew.

Carol nodded and laughed at each story. She noted in nearly every tale Bob ended up in some silly peccadillo, not infrequently including a girl. Occasionally one girl was mentioned, but for some reason those stories got short-circuited. Carol wondered if Bob was giving them some kind of high sign, or if they were simply being polite in front of her. However, Carol did notice one girl and one boy cropped up frequently. The girl's name was Jennifer, and the boy's name was Gary. Carol couldn't quite put the pieces together, but it sounded like a youthful competition between two boys over one girl. She thought that Gary eventually got the better of the contest, but she wasn't sure. At any rate, she was glad Gary had gotten the better of whatever it was. If Bob had won, she might not be sitting here with him now. Slowly the group dispersed. Only a couple people hung around, and then even they left.

Carol had heard an ear full. She wanted to know more. "Bob. Tell me about this girl Jennifer."

Bob was busy eating his B.L.T. and pretended he didn't hear her.

She asked again. "So who's Jennifer."

Bob chuckled. "Oh she was just a girl from school."

Carol asked. "Who was Gary?"

Bob kept eating, but between bites he brushed it off. "Jennifer and Gary were high school sweethearts. I tried to play devil's advocate for a while, but they resisted. I hear they got married and manufactured a couple kids."

Carol reached out and put her hand on Bob's wrist. "You loved her didn't you."

Bob took his hand and covered hers. "We were in high school. Everybody fell in love back then. Didn't you?"

Carol pulled her hand away. "Yes. I guess I did too."

Bob smiled and digressed a little about his high school romances. "Jennifer was a big deal in my junior year. I was what, seventeen? She was pretty. Like you. She was popular. She had a boyfriend who was my best friend. He was senior though. He had more money, a faster car, and he'd been accepted to a swell college. I guess you might say Jennifer looked over what was on the lot and opted for the older, more mature, and better prospect." He grinned. " I got over it."

Carol listened. She was trying to imagine Bob with a broken heart. Crying bitter tears in a pillow late at night. Or perhaps an angry beaten suitor taking his failure out on a case of beer. She envisioned Allan Jackson's pyramid of cans in the pale moonlight. Maybe there was a disjointed fist fight with the older boy getting a punch in the nose? She asked. "How did it affect you and Gary? I mean did you two remain friends?

Bob answered. "It hurt a little at first, but Gary has always been my very best friend. Now, he and I are inseparable."

Carol looked at Bob quizzically. "I never knew much about you until today. Will I ever get to meet Gary?"

Bob gave Carol a quick wink and a smile. "I don't know. He's lucky in love. He beat me once. I don't think I could handle another whipping from him. I may never introduce you two."

Carol giggled softly. "Smart man. I just might weigh my options and go with the better prospect."

Bob laughed loudly. "You done?" He started to get up. "We have some things to take care of back at the barn."

Carol smiled and got up. It was time to go. She'd found out a little about the guy who'd been mistreating her. He seemed more like a real human being now.

They both got up and left. Bob kept a proprietary arm around her waist. His hand holding her and resting lightly on her hip. He loved the way she swished in that dark blue dress. It was made for her. It was! Literally! He'd had it made for her.

Bob and Carol drove back to the cabin. Once they got inside Bob suggested they put on something more comfortable and take a walk. Carol liked the idea.

Bob went to his closet and pulled out an old pair of torn jeans, a faded Tee shirt, some white socks and scruffy tennis shoes. Carol went to her side of the closet and looked around. Her wearing apparel was much too feminine for real hiking, but she did pull out a pretty pale blue cotton blouse and a dark blue mini-skirt to match. Picking out shoes was a trickier matter. She had to settle on a pair of black and white saddle shoes with matching white socks. She sure felt youthful and pretty, but for any real walking or hiking she was clearly in a disadvantaged situation.

Bob looked her over. "Come on beautiful. We won't go far."

Carol took his hand and together they sort of promenaded sort of skipped down the dirt path toward the woods. She felt light hearted, free. As they turned the first corner, a corner Carol hadn't turned since the day after that terrible night he had taken her in the rear, she saw something new. Bob had built a wooden swing. It hung gracefully from a long thick branch of an oak tree.

Bob looked at the tree. "My." He said. "What do we have here? It looks like a swing." He turned around to Carol. "Are you a swinger Carol?"

Carol got the double meaning, laughed and answered. "I can swing with the best of them."

For the next thirty minutes Bob gently pushed Carol as she sat comfortably on the swing. He thought how pretty and natural she looked. Her hair floated back and forth. The ribbon and barrettes made it flutter so attractively. The short sleeved blouse revealed her soft arms. The mini-skirt flowed up over her lap, and, even though Bob was behind her, he enjoyed looking at her upper thighs. Without any stockings or nylons, but with the skirt on, she seemed even a little more naked than if she were truly nude. He thought it was funny how a little clothing was often more provocative than no clothing at all. Throughout her swinging he was careful not to allow the swing to glide too high or too fast. He was afraid it might have a bad affect on their baby. He was proud she was pregnant. He couldn't explain exactly why. Maybe it was because the changes taking place in her body was because of what he did? Maybe it was because it was something they were sharing? He couldn't explain his feelings. With each pull of the swing she seemed to make a noise. Sometimes it was a giggle, sometimes a soft sigh, then sometimes it sounded like she was singing something. She had a beautiful voice, a perfect voice. He loved the sounds she made. They were her sounds, her voice, and her song.

After a little while swinging they meandered back to the cabin. Carol noticed another old oak that was so big it offered a generous shaded canopy. She said. "Let's go over and sit down a while."

Bob thought, anything that will keep her out here longer is great. "All right. Let's sit some more." He said it in a funny way, since she'd been sitting for close thirty minutes the whole time he'd been pushing her on the swing.

They ambled over and sat under the tree. Bob dropped to the ground, and invited Carol to do the same. Already seated he helped her find her seat by holding both hands as she leaned down. He got a great breast shot. God! He realized. She's mine. He said. "Well Carol, you got an earful at the restaurant. Now I already know a lot about you, since we investigated you before this all started, but maybe you'd like to tell me a little about yourself anyway. What have you got?"

Carol looked off in the distance. "What do you want to know?"

Bob smiled. She had this way of looking off in the distance that added color to her personality. He knew it didn't make any sense to think that, but she was so vibrant, so full of life, so expressive, how could anybody not fall in love with her? "How many guys have you had sex with?" He laughed. "No I'm only kidding. That's your business. But I would like to know a little bit about you childhood. You have a sister and a brother, and I know your parents are still alive. Do you keep in touch?"

Carol checked for ants then leaned back on the ground. "I have kept in touch. I used to call my sister every four or five days. I don't talk to my brother much, but I know he's there. My parents? They haven't heard from me since this all began."

Bob gave her a thoughtful but concerned look. "I haven't kept you from calling them have I?"

Carol answered as honestly as she could. "Would you want your parents to know if you were in the kind of trouble I've been in?"

Bob interrupted. "You're not in any trouble now."

Carol went on. "Thanks. I'm glad you said that. Yes. I used to talk to my parents a lot. I miss them. I know they've probably been worried about me. I should at least let them know I'm still alive. It's been more than four months."

Bob listened to the lilt in her voice. There was concern there, but dread too. What a beautiful resonant soprano she must be. He wondered if she were ever in the church choir. He wanted to slap himself. He kept day dreaming. He knew he must be sick. She was all he could think about. He interrupted again. "And now you're pregnant. You want them to know that don't you?"

Carol answered. "I don't know how they'll take that."

Bob interjected. "Why don't you call them?' He fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "Here. Call them right now."

Carol stared at Bob. This was shocking. She slowly reached over and took the phone. She held it in her hand. She shook it a couple times. She stared at it. She tried to hand the phone back to Bob. "No. I'll wait."

Bob sat there. He declined to take the phone. "Call em. Go ahead Carol. Call em."

Carol took the phone back. She opened it. Her hand was shaking. "I forgot the number."

Bob said. "Dial 411."

Carol closed the phone. "Let me think about it."

Bob asked. "What's to think about? Your parents haven't heard from you in four months. Your sister and brother have no idea where you are." He sat up in a squat. "Look. Just dial the phone number. They're probably not home anyway. Leave a message. Tell them you're alive and all right." He stumbled on. "If you get an answer tell whoever picks up the phone they can kiss your ass. Tell them to fuck off. Tell them you wanted to call, but can't talk right now. Say anything. But at least let them off the hook. Let them know you're alive. You owe them that much."

Carol burst into tears. She threw the phone at Bob's feet. "I'm afraid."

Bob scolded. "Shit Carol. It's your mom and dad. They'll be so glad to hear your voice it won't matter what you say." He shifted his weight. "Go on! Call your parents."

Carol was crying. "This is cruel. You know that. This is as bad, no worse, than the damn doghouse."

Bob yelled at her. "Your damn right it's cruel. You're damn right it's worse than the doghouse. Ten times worse." He leaned right into her face. He took his hands and held her face by her cheeks. "So stop doing it to them! Call them! Tell them you're all right." He was getting worked up. "Tell them where you are. If you want, after you get them on the line, I'll talk to them."

Carol was crying. She got up and started running for the house.

Bob didn't follow her. He walked around behind the tree where she couldn't see him. He dialed a number. Someone on the other end of the line said something. He said something. He waited. Then he said something else. Someone else talked. Bob put the phone back in his pocket. He slowly walked back to the cabin. He kept whispering to no one in particular. "Stupid girl. Stupid frightened little girl." He stepped up on the porch and walked inside.

Bob walked inside and found Carol had recovered most of her aplomb. Her face was still tear streaked and she was still sniffling, but otherwise she looked pretty good. Bob walked up and put his arms around her shoulders. He made sure it didn't feel like one of those power holds men sometimes liked to use on women. He didn't want her to feel threatened. Not by him! Not anymore! He said. "I want to check you out."

Carol turned around and asked. "What?"

Bob continued. "You were pretty messed up not so long ago, and I think I saw some residual scarring on your back and legs. Let me give you a nice warm bath, and then rub some balm on your back and legs."

Carol looked at him a little superciliously. "Bob. That's silly. I'm fine. You just want to make me feel better."

Bob answered rather glibly. "No. It's not for you. It's for me. It'll ease my conscience."

Carol laughed a little. "You're such a fool."

"OK. I'm a fool. Now get in the tub." He walked into the bedroom and starting drawing water for a bath.

Carol followed and started taking off her clothes. She was thinking. He's silly, but I'll let him have his way on this.

Bob helped her undress. He lifted her into the tub. Using only his hands and the soft soap he had in a bottle he started washing her down. She wasn't really dirty. She'd showered just a few hours earlier. Just before church.

Carol liked it when Bob made over her. She reflected upon when she'd just come out of that awful closet. He'd been so good to her. He bathed her twice a day. Half the time she looked like a prune, but he really got those sores and bites under control fast. He took care of her. Now he was at it again.

Bob loved this woman. He took his time. He washed her hair, and then washed it again. He let her soak while he took a comb and brushed through it. He found that helped in making sure there were no knots. Then he took his hands and washed her face, her neck, her ears, and down her back. He got her to lie flatter and gently washed her stomach. He took an extra long time on her upper chest, especially her breasts. He liked using his fingers and the palms of his hands to caress her aureole and her nipples. Today he gave himself a special treat. While he washed her breasts he leaned in and kissed each beautiful little nipple.

She sighed. Carol was in seventh heaven. He really knew how to make her feel special. No man had ever done anything like what Bob did, at least not for her. Of course, she didn't have that many opportunities to make the comparison. Bob thought she was a lot more experienced than she really was. If he only knew the truth!

Bob got down to business when he reached her legs. He got her to roll over and kneel in the tub. The little body art that had been on her face, the flowers and leaves, were almost completely invisible now, but his tattoo was still bright and crisp. The picture of the girl in the man's hands would always be there. He would always be there. He wiped around her ass cheeks, and took his fingers and washed just inside her ass. He was careful not to penetrate too far into either crevice, front or back. He was concerned the soap, even though it was very mild, might cause some kind of infection. While he wiped soap on her vagina he noticed the tiniest trace of stubble. It had been a long time, but now he could tell she needed another depilatory. Well he had the stuff, and she'd get it this afternoon. He looked at the clock. He meant this evening. After several more unnecessary wipes around her ass cheeks and her labia he announced. "OK. Almost all done."