*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual behavior are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: Yes I need an Editor and no, I do not want an Editor. Yes, it jumps around too much. Yes, there's too many people to keep track of. Yes, it's too long. Yes, it's too short. Yes, it's in the wrong category. Yes, this is stupid shit, and yes, I suck.
For those of you that have not hit the backspace key, I do hope you enjoy this little tale.
*
Chapter 1
Jack Hebert lived upstairs, in 2B. It was a sixteen by sixteen room, plenty big enough for his needs. The beige carpet was only twelve by sixteen, going the length of the room, but ended four feet from the small kitchen. There, the owner had put fairly nice linoleum tiling. The linoleum tiling extended to the small bathroom.
Jack had put a simple bath mat in the small bathroom and that small bath mat nearly took up all the available floor area.
But that was good enough for him. He had not needed that much, had not wanted that much.
Jack Hebert certainly did not need the thirty two hundred square foot home his wife had insisted they buy. At first he had objected; there was just him, her, and their sixteen year old daughter; they simply did not need that much room.
Especially since Deidre would surely be moving out in just two years' time. The girl had been talking of nothing but going to Florida State ever since seeing a photograph of the college campus.
But as usual, Jack gave in and put down the twenty five percent down payment, fifty two thousand, and five hundred dollars.
Then, two years after Deidre moved out, Jacqueline hit him with the usual 'we've grown apart' and 'it's not you, it's me' and 'this will help us reconnect.'
He wondered how a forty seven year old woman taking a thirty one year old lover was supposed to help them reconnect. But, to Jacqueline's surprise, Jack had not capitulated this time. He had not simply caved.
"You'll end up with nothing," she screeched, normally pretty face twisted in an ugly snarl when he informed her he was moving out.
"That's fine; at least I won't end up with a wrinkled up old slut," he said and finished packing his suitcase.
Miller's Electronics sold him the equipment. Hiding them around the large home was easy. Jacqueline was less than scrupulous in her housekeeping, less than observant in her surroundings.
He found out that Jaqueline's paramour was a teacher at Baylor Lake High School; that was how they'd met. Brian taught English and Jacqueline was the librarian.
Jacqueline and Brian thought Jack should just go along with the plan; they'd have their fling, then Brian would go home to his wife and Jacqueline would go home to her husband.
But Jack Hebert did not wind up being the head accountant for St. Elizabeth Public Utilities by being sloppy. He became the head accountant by being careful, meticulous.
As they'd arranged, Brian and Jacqueline went to Sweet Peas for that night's fried catfish dinner. And Brian's parents were there, sitting at a table. A shamefaced Brian introduced Jacqueline as a co-worker.
"So, where's Michelle?" Brian's mother asked pointedly.
"She's uh, she's at home, with the girls," Brian stammered.
"Yes, she told us," his father snapped. "Said you had some sort of Parents-Teachers conference or something going on at school tonight."
"Uh, yeah, yes we uh, we do, but there was a little break so we uh decided to grab a bite to eat," Brian stammered.
"Uh huh," both Brian's parents said, letting him know they didn't buy his lame excuse.
After a silent dinner, the no longer quite amorous couple went to Foxtrot's Lounge for a little dancing. Jacqueline loved to dance, but Jack didn't care much for it, having two left feet.
And at Foxtrot's, Jacqueline's mother and step-father were dancing.
"Yes, darling, your husband slipped Roger here a couple hundred bucks, told him take me here for a little dancing and drinking," her mother giggled.
Then she looked at Brian and raised an eyebrow.
"But uh, what are you doing here?" she asked her daughter.
"We uh, well, you know Jack doesn't much like to dance so uh," Jacqueline stammered.
"Come on, Monique, they're playing our song," Roger insisted.
"That is not our song, you silly old coot," Monique laughed, but allowed herself to be dragged back out onto the dance floor.
But Jacqueline was determined to go through with her fling, if for no other reason than to show her stick in the mud husband that he wasn't about to ruin her evening.
That was fine with Brian; the dancing and dinner had just been a means to an end for him.
"Damn, nice house," Brian whistled as he pulled up to the South Shore Baylor Lake home.
"Thank you," Jacqueline simpered.
They entered the house, with Brian giving Jacqueline's flabby backside a generous squeeze.
"Hello, Brian," Michelle said from the living room couch.
"I uh, what? What are you doing here?" Brian almost screamed.
"Oh, I thought I'd show your wife and your daughters where you'd be living," Jack Hebert said, coming into the room with a box of things. "Hi Jacqueline; I just stopped by for a few more of my things."
"I done told you yeah," Michelle said, voice a tightly controlled whisper. "I done told you, after Stacy, I told you that's it."
The pregnant woman hefted herself out of the far too soft couch, walked over to Brian and gave his face a stinging slap.
"Well, looks like y'all have a lot to talk about, so I'll be going now," Jack smiled. "The girls really love the swimming pool."
"You son of a bitch," Jacqueline snarled at a smiling Jack.
"Uh huh, by the way, y'all owe Dani twelve bucks for babysitting Mealy and Mandy tonight," Jack said, pointing to the neighboring girl that was splashing in the pool with the two girls.
Then he left the house.
They had nearly eighty four thousand dollars equity in the house; Jacqueline screamed, cried and begged Jack for forgiveness. She did not want to lose the house or the nearly seventeen thousand dollars of furniture she'd accumulated.
Her brand new Mercedes-Benz still had three more years on the note; Jacqueline begged and pleaded and cried for Jack to forgive her. She knew she could not afford the car on her salary.
And she nearly fainted when Parker Johnson, her attorney relayed the news; Jacqueline would be responsible for half of Deidre's tuition and living expenses as long as the child was in college.
She also found it quite difficult to make ends meet on the salary of a Public School Librarian.
"Oh no, Honey," Monique laughed a tight little laugh when Jacqueline approached her mother with the idea of moving in with them.
"But it's just until I can..." Jacqueline whined.
"Honey, it's a two bedroom condo," Roger said.
"I am so grateful your father isn't alive to see this," Monique said.
She fixed her daughter with her customary raised eyebrow.
"Remember?" Monique asked. "You brought that Jack Hebert boy home and your father said to you that boy's a snake in the grass. Boy would he be shocked to see just how wrong he was."
Their oldest, John Junior called his dad.
"Dad, Mom's asking us if she can stay here," J.J. said.
"Son, you got the room, then by all means, let her stay," Jack said.
"Well, it's uh, I just don't want it, I don't want any problems," J.J. admitted.
"Son, that woman changed your poo-poo diapers, cleaned you up, fed you all those years. If you got the room, give it to her," Jack said.
"Love you, Dad," J.J. said.
Michelle Melancon was true to her word; she did not forgive Brian his attempted little fling. Brian found that living on half his salary was not feasible and wound up moving back home with his parents.
But at least, those living arrangements gave Brian's parents plenty of time with Amelia and Amanda, their two granddaughters, and when Michelle gave birth to Barry Melancon, named after her father, they got to see him often as well.
"Barry? I thought we were going to name him after me," Brian whined.
"WE was," Michelle snapped. "But your little dick made sure there ain't no 'WE' anymore."
Jack had intended for the apartment to be a temporary thing, but found he enjoyed not spending hours cutting the grass, or raking leaves, or mulching a garden, or planting flowers, or vacuuming out the pool.
He found he enjoyed not changing the wallpaper, painting the spare bedroom, pulling out the old carpet.
Jack found out he liked not having to clean the garage, or the attic, or the tool shed.
There was a closet in his apartment. He found it held twelve suits, twelve dress shirts, and twenty four ties just fine. It also held three pairs of shoes, a long overcoat, and a short jacket just fine.
The small set of drawers in it held his four pairs of jeans, his twelve pairs of underwear, his twelve pairs of socks, and his four pull over shirts just fine.
The furniture was minimalistic as well. Jack had his favorite recliner, two bookshelves, a small table and two dining chairs, and a full sized bed.
He did not even have a television. He had thought briefly of availing himself of the television in Deidre's room, but couldn't think of a single television show he would want to watch.
Jack Hebert was an avid Saints fan, but Red's Sports Bar had a sixty one inch LCD television and ice cold beers and insanely spicy chicken wings and ice cold beers and jalapeno laden nachos and ice cold beers. If there was a television program he just had to watch, he could stream it on his lap top computer.
He had found he liked to cook. Jacqueline was always screeching that he was making a mess whenever he attempted to cook. But here, it was either microwave endless frozen dinners, or actually learn to cook. So he learned to cook.
Jack Was driving home one evening; a co-worker had given him a new recipe for blackened chicken and he happened to have some leg quarters, when he happened to look over at a colorful building.
Jack had driven the same path day in and day out, had passed this building day in and day out. Why he would have decided to look over at this moment was unanswerable to him.
The curtains were open; he was looking at a plate glass window of Kizzy's School of Dance. And inside were seven couples, twirling and gliding.
A car horn brought him out of his trance and Jack turned and pulled into the parking lot of the building.
Then he sat in his car and watched. He watched as an attractive young woman, beatific smile on her pretty face showed them some basic movements, then waved for them to start again.
Even though he could not hear the music, the fluid motions of the people dancing filled Jack's head with music.
Then the class must have been over; some couples stood around and chatted, others walked out into the twilight and got into their cars.
Jack made a decision and got out of the car.
"Hi, help you?" the young dance instructor smiled, breaking away from an older couple.
