{My thanks to those who have read and commented on previous chapters of this series. Welcome to new readers. Familiarity with characters and events described in previous chapters is recommended. Read chapters 1 through 23.}
On Monday Huley interrupted my conversation with two guys who had applied for the painter helper jobs. I was in the process of telling them we could use them on Saturday when she broke in.
"Your phone was busy last night. Papa wants to talk to you," she advised me before walking away.
The two guys and I watched her go. She was headed to a table in the back of the cafeteria where several jocks were sitting. I decided the one wearing a back brace must be Jake Trainer. I was grateful that Huley had not made a scene.
The two new hires grinned, probably thinking they knew what was behind Huley's remark. They had no idea.
After classes I went by the house to re-connect the phone and the answering machine before making my rounds. Charles was working alone, putting the finishing touches on Sylvia's addition. I spoke to him about building a picket fence along our back line when he finished the addition. "Tell Sylvia what you're up to before you order the materials. She's sure to want the fence to extend along her back line too," I said. Charles grinned, saying he would talk to Sylvia.
Eric was working with the painting crew. The guys were all excited about the contract Mr. Waite had given us to raze the old house. Eric told me about a painter that was looking for work. Lacy's brother-in-law had let him go due to lack of work.
"If he's interested in helping demolish a house send him by to see me," I told Eric. He told me Jack had mentioned he might call me to see if I could give him some work.
Huley had given my phone number to her father. Ollie Pettersen was gracious, grateful and accommodating. He praised me for coming to the rescue of Rosita in her time of need and apologized for the way he had told me I was not welcome in his home. He told me to send him a bill for securing the showroom and when I said there was no charge he offered to take me golfing. "Julita says you're free on Wednesday afternoon. We'll have a light lunch and try to get in 18 holes. Come by the lot," he ordered. Refusing was not an option. I said okay.
The next day I took a sandwich and two pieces of fruit for lunch. If Huley was going to snub me I was not going to waste an hour in the cafeteria. I would go to the library for part of the lunch break.
That afternoon I asked the guys who played golf. Eric raised his hand. We made arrangements to go to a driving range and hit balls after work. I had not played golf since high school.
Eric and I hit a bucket of balls each and then he watched me hit two more, giving me tips as to how to shift my weight and tighten my swing. My goal was to not embarrass myself the following day. He offered to loan me his clubs. It was a basic set that would save me having to rent clubs. We went to a shop where I bought shoes and golf balls.
I talked to Eric about making the adjustment from the military to civilian life and was glad to hear him say that the job with our company had made it easy for him to adjust. We both avoided saying anything about Lacy. It occurred to me that he thought he had taken her away from me. I was just glad that Lacy and I were on speaking terms. Her sister was probably still mad at me for bruising her ass while playing whack.
There were two messages, one from Laura and one from Mr. Waite. Not having the brothel telephone number I returned Mr. Waite's call. He wanted to see me the next day. "I want to go over the wrecking schedule with you," he said.
My plan was to have our whole crew available on the day after Thanksgiving. The seven of us plus the two new college students would be able to make a good start if solid plans were in place. I wanted to put Charles in charge of the project but first I had to clear it with Jimmy. Then Charles and I could put the schedule together and fix responsibility. Mr. Waite sounded perturbed when I told him I did not have the schedule on paper yet. He wanted to see me anyway.
"What time do you want to see me?" I asked, wondering how I was going to tell Ollie I could not make our golfing date.
"Make it seven. Bring Laura. Wanda has something special planned for dinner. She's had me break down the table to seat six," Harold was in a jovial mood.
Bring Laura? Did she know? Was that why she had called? Table to seat six? Who's the other couple? My mind was cluttered with these thoughts when the telephone rang.
"Honey, where were you?" Laura asked. "It doesn't matter. Did you talk to Harold? I need something to wear. Can you take me shopping tomorrow?"
"Sure," I said. I would call Ollie and say something had come up. Actually I was relieved that I would not be spending three hours on the golf course with him.
"Can we say 5 P.M.? I want to get some rest before tomorrow night. That will give us two hours to select two dresses and drive to the Waite's. Bring me shoes and underwear and stockings. I'll shower here and dress at the store."
"What color shoes should I bring?"
"Black I think. Don't bring the other things. I'll call the dress shop and ask them to have some dresses ready to try on. I can pick up the underwear and stockings to go with the black shoes."
"Sounds good, what's this about?"
There was a short pause before Laura said, "It's a surprise. Wait and hear it for yourself."
"Aw, you can tell me. I hate surprises," I whined.
"Randy?"
"Yes?"
"Bring money!" She was gone.
How am I going to find time to go to the bank? I thought. Why couldn't we write a check for her purchases? Then I remembered, Laura didn't like writing checks when we could pay cash. Her pay envelope was still in the jacket I had worn the night I made the journal entries for her. Problem solved.
"Damn it," I muttered to myself when I saw the book Huley had loaned me. It was still on my desk. I had not returned it and now I would have to catch up with her at school.
Quarterly finals were less than two weeks off. There was to be a week long break between Thanksgiving and the new quarter which would begin the first Monday in December. I really could not afford to take time to play golf on Wednesday afternoon, the day I usually spent in the library. But Ollie had been adamant about wanting to thank me properly. I didn't call him to cancel.
I had an idea. I would use the shoes as an excuse for visiting the brothel to interview the girls. While getting my clothes lined up for the next day, I set the alarm clock for 4 A.M.
"What are you doing here?" Ruby Mae asked when she saw me come through the back door. She was standing next to the kitchen table, ready to take a seat. But when she saw me she continued to stand, towering over me in four inch heels.
"I'm bringing Tess some shoes," I said to the new girl, thinking that I did not owe her an explanation but the other answer that popped into my mind would create a bad atmosphere and that was something I wanted to avoid. I had risen at 4 A.M for better reasons than upsetting the serenity Laura strived to maintain in the workplace.
"I don't like strange men popping in when I'm on break," she spat at me as she took a seat.
The small piece of material around her waist revealed her shapely legs and the fishnet bra she was wearing did little to hide her small breasts. Her legs and tits were exactly as I had envisioned on Friday night when Wanda and I had picked up she and Brenda Sue at the airport.
Rachel joined us, poured herself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. She listened to me tell Ruby Mae that I had also come to interview her and her coworkers for a paper I was doing for school.
"You can interview me Randy," Rachel volunteered. "What do you want to know?"
I took a seat, deciding I would take advantage of Rachel's offer.
"The other night when I met Ruby Mae she said something I want to follow up on," I said to Rachel before turning to Ruby Mae.
"Do you remember saying that whores get blamed for everything?"
Ruby Mae eyed me cautiously with something between disdain and curiosity in her expression. "What about it?"
"I was wondering if the others feel the same. How about you Rachel? Do you believe that prostitutes get blamed for everything?"
