*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
**..**..**
Judge Robert Buschold pursed his lips in rancor as Jeff Landry, his son-in-law sat back and smiled with satisfaction. Across the table from Jeff sat Angelle 'Jelly' Landry, the disgusting, deviant daughter of Jeff. And, next to the little red headed harlot sat Arabelle "Belly' Hall, Jelly's girlfriend.
"The times, they are a-changing. And not for the better, Mr. Dylan," Robert thought.
There was a time when such a relationship was so scandalous, so abhorrent to polite society that no woman would ever admit to being in such a relationship. Now, though, in this permissive and decadent culture, such a relationship was actually encouraged.
Robert knew better than to give voice to his opinion. Since marrying Donna, Robert and Deborah's daughter, Jeff had proven himself to be a man guided by his own principles. He did not kowtow to Judge Robert Buschold's position or to Deborah's formidable nature. When he believed himself to be right, Jeff Landry stood his ground.
Donna had fallen in love with the Cajun culture, the Cajun food, the rich heritage of the people and the lush landscape. The moment she had her high school diploma in hand Donna Buschold decided to attend the University of Louisiana at DeGarde, rather than attend Wallchester University. Upon graduating, after seven years of studies, Donna took a job with Tri-Carter, an oil field service provider.
"Should have never let her go to that damned Mardi Gras," Robert thought as Jeff took his empty plate and the plates of his daughter and daughter's girlfriend to the kitchen where Daisy, their servant stood, smiling.
Within months of gaining her employment with Tri-Carter,, Donna met the thirty four year old Jeff Landry when DeGarde Office Equipment Leasing & Maintenance had sent Jeff out to repair Tri-Carter's ancient photocopier. Robert ran a background check on the man and did not like the fact that Jeff Landry was divorced, with an 11 year old daughter.
"His wife cheated on him; that's why they're divorced," Donna explained when Robert voiced his concerns about his daughter's involvement with the older Jeff.
Despite his misgivings and Deborah's intense dislike of Jeffrey Andrew Landry, Donna and Jeff married. Their dislike of Jeff did soften, did mellow very slightly when Donna and Jeff abruptly left DeGarde, Louisiana and relocated to Commonstead, New Jersey. Donna said she'd suddenly become homesick. Jeff offered no opinion nor explanation.
Robert and Deborah had met Jelly, Jeff's daughter; she spent the summers with her father and spent every other Thanksgiving OR Christmas with Jeff and Donna. Despite her warm, bubbly, friendly nature, Deborah and Robert did not warm to the red headed pixie.
The first Thanksgiving, just as Jeff put Jelly's plate down in front of his daughter, Deborah made the announcement to the gathering of family that, since this was Jeff's first Thanksgiving with them, he would be washing the dishes.
"It is fine china; it belonged to my grandmother and must be washed by hand," Deborah said imperiously.
Jeff looked at the amused faces of Robert, Donna's two brothers Bobby and Richard, Robert's mother Genevieve Buschold, Deborah's two sisters and their husbands. Straightening, Jeff took his daughter's hand and helped her from her seat.
"Donna, we're leaving. You coming?" Jeff said, leaving no room for argument.
"Why, Mother?" Donna snarled as she hurried to follow her husband.
"Well!" was Deborah's response.
Susan, Bobby's wife and Tricia, Richard's wife shared a look with one another. Silently, the two women applauded Jeff's handling of the situation. Later, while the men were loafing in the den, watching a football game, Susan confided to Tricia that had Deborah pulled that little stunt on her, Deborah would have significantly fewer of her Grandmother's CHINA to cherish.
Since that day, on the very rare occasions that Jeff Landry did come to the Buschold home, Deborah and Robert were coolly civil to their son in law. Somehow, Donna had convinced Jeff that, since this was the first Thanksgiving that his daughter and her girlfriend were living in Commonstead, New Jersey, they should make an effort to show Jelly and Belly a good, traditional Thanksgiving meal.
If the cold atmosphere bothered Jeff, he did not react. If the awkward silences bothered Jeff, or Jelly or Belly, they did not show it. The three sat at the large decades-old wooden table, eating the truly delicious food.
Deborah pursed her lips IN DISAPPROVAL as she clearly heard Jeff complimenting Daisy, and thanking the woman for her delicious meal. Didn't the buffoon realize he should thank her, the hostess? Even though Deborah had not prepared the meal, she had provided the meal. Therefore, the thanks should go to her, the hostess AND NOT TO A PAID SERVANT.
Afterward, the fifteen guests and Deborah and Robert retired to the living room while Daisy and Pet, Daisy's sister brewed coffee and sliced the pumpkin pies. During the dinner, Jelly, Angelle Landry had let it slip that she was pregnant.
"Wonderful. Just wonderful. Another worthless urchin siphoning our tax dollars for the rest of eternity," Robert thought dourly.
Now, in the living room, Susan politely asked Jelly what she planned to name the baby. Robert made a mental black checkmark on Susan's ledger. What Susan should have asked was if Jelly planned to abort the bastard fetus.
"Or, of course, there is adoption," Robert muttered, then clammed up when Jeff shot him a harsh look.
"We don't know," Jelly said, giving her blonde friend a loving look.
"We been thinking Payton if it's a boy; you know, Payton Jeffrey Landry-Hall," Belly said.
"And Andrea if it's a girl," Jelly said. "Andrea Michelle Landry-Hall."
"Michelle is Jelly's mother's name," Jeff explained to the gathering.
"Well, when Bobby and I do have a baby," Susan said. "If it's a boy? I don't have a choice."
"Robert Steven the third," Bobby said smugly.
"But if it's a girl? Denise. Denise Elizabeth Buschold," Susan said.
"See, Susan's older sister? Denise Elizabeth Prescott died when Susan was a little girl," Bobby explained, even though no one had asked for an explanation.
"Oh. How tragic," Deborah said with hardly a trace of emotion in her voice.
"I like the name Carter, if it's a boy," Donna piped up. And Willa if it's a girl."
Jelly and Belly looked at one another, silently communicating their thoughts on those names. Robert saw the murderous glare Jeff gave to Donna. Donna also saw Jeff's glare and shrank away from her husband.
"You... Bitch! You unbelievable God damned bitch," Jeff hissed, voice full of venom.
"Hey now," Bobby said, getting to his feet.
"Oh I wish you would," Jeff snarled, getting to his feet as well, fists clenched.
Bobby had six inches and fifty pounds on the smaller man. Even after four glasses of his father's Oakleaf Whiskey, Bobby was smart enough to know he stood little chance against his sister's little Cajun. Especially as outraged as the man looked at this moment.
"Daddy?" Jelly asked, noticing the tension in the room.
"This bitch, this little slut wants you to name my grandbaby after her lover," Jeff snarled, glaring hatefully at his wife.
The women in the room gasped at the man's vulgarities, AND AT THE REVELATION. Donna burst into tears. Robert hoisted himself from his comfortable wingback chair, determined to seize control of this uncomfortable situation.
"Do not come home. Hear me? I do not want to see you. I don't want any of you anywhere near me, hear?" Jeff ordered, marching to the door.
"Daddy, wait. I need, we need to get our coats," Jelly called out, following her father.
"I'll get them," Belly offered.
Belly ducked past the lumbering Robert Buschold and scampered to the guest room. Quickly, she found her coat, Jelly's coat and Mr. Jeff's coat. She grabbed their purses and ran back to the front door of the home.
As she passed Donna, Belly saw a Crumpled WOMAN, A DEFEATED WOMAN. She didn't see the normally quite haughty Miss Donna that sneered down at her and Jelly. Belly wondered why she had no compassion for the true Donna Landry.
"Thanks Sugar Booger," Jeff said, calling Belly the nickname he'd given her when Jelly had introduced her best friend to her Daddy.
"I'm going drop you two off at your apartment," Jeff said as they clambered into his DARK GREEN 2016 Dodge Ram 3500 Mega-Cab pickup truck.
"You, you don't need no help?" Jelly asked.
"Probably. I PROBABLY NEED A WHOLE BUNCH OF HELP. What can you two do? Nothing," Jeff said.
"Daddy, I'm sorry," Jelly said. "I know you loved her."
"You said it right, Honey Bunny," Jeff sighed. "Loved. As in past tense."