Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (74 page)

“Was it good?” Shelly asked as she wiped the child's face with a damp cloth.

“I like Burger Kings."

Shelly slid the high chair tray forward and lifted her daughter high in the air. “Goldilocks, you like Uncle Sam, don't you?"

“I love Uncle Sam. I wish you did too."

“Sometimes it takes time for love to grow, honey. I think I may be getting there."

“Really?"

“Really,” Shelly lied. “You remember one time Uncle Sam asked if you'd like for him to be your daddy?"

“Boyd is my daddy,” Annie said crossly.

“If I marry Uncle Sam, he would be your daddy."

“Mommy,” Annie squealed happily. “Are you going to marry Uncle Sam?"

Shelly laughed. “I'm thinking about it, but don't you dare say a word to him until I've made up my mind."

The little girl's eyes twinkled as she pulled an imaginary zipper across her smiling lips.

Boyd—I didn't realize you were serious. Well, maybe I did. I'll come up with some sort of proposal and present it to Sam this weekend. We'll see what happens.

To get to Sam's house, drive all the way down the Old Charlotte Road through the Dot business district. Turn left on Old Lumbermill Road. You will pass a house on the right that has a bunch of greenhouses next to it. Continue for about a mile. Sam's house is the next one on the right. If you don't keep your end of the bargain, I'll find you and blow your lying head right off your shoulders with my 9mm pistol!

Shelly strolled down hot concrete towards the kiddy pool and stretched out on the chaise lounge next to Sam. She watched Ron jackknife off the board at the far end of the pool.

“Where have you been? You've been gone at least an hour,” Sam said grumpily.

“If you must know, I went for a damn walk. All this screeching and hollering was getting to me. Why'd you have to bring the damn twins with us?"

“Annie likes the twins."

“Well, I don't."

“Thighs still hurting?” Sam asked.

She nodded.

“You're either going to have to change your act or find another line of work."

Her head rolled towards him and she studied his eyes for a moment. “Isn't this where you're supposed to offer to marry me and take me away from all my misery."

“The offer is on the table permanently, but you told me to back off—so I did."

“We need to talk, Sam."

He jerked into a sitting position, swung his legs towards her and leaned forward. “I'm all ears,” he said, his eyes wide with anticipation.

She laughed. “You do have big ears. I haven't noticed before."

“I'll cut ’em off if it will help,” he joked.

She sat on the edge of her lounge. Their knees touched. She rested her hands on his tanned thighs. “I like you, Sam. I like you very much, but I don't love you. I'm not going to lie to you about that."

“You think, maybe, someday..."

She nodded. “Maybe. Annie loves you and I know you love her. She needs a father and the security someone like you can provide."

“You love her too. You just won't admit it."

“Of course I love her. I don't think any woman can go through thirteen hours of labor and not love the kid she carried for nine months. I ... I'm just not a conventional mom."

“You're a better mom than you realize, but Delilah, I'm not wealthy. I've never pretended I was."

“Damn it, Sam. My name is Shelly."

“Sorry."

“You own your home and make a good salary. Right?"

“The bank and I own the house. I make sixty thousand a year. Compared to your income, that's nothing."

“It's steady work, though. Mine is a young woman's vocation."

He chuckled. “Let's see now, old lady. I believe you told me you're twenty-one?"

“A very old twenty-one. My breasts are beginning to sag. When a stripper's boobs rest on her belly, she's out of business."

“Come on, Shelly. You're beautiful."

“Please hear me out. I'm going to make you a business proposition. It's the best I can offer. I'll marry you if you are willing to meet my conditions."

“Shelly!” He reached for her but she pushed him away.

“Listen to me, damn it! I have all this written down for you to review later. If you agree, you must sign the document. I don't want you complaining later that there is something you didn't understand."

He nodded.

“I have a strong sex drive and you know you do not satisfy me. I will not promise marital fidelity, but I will try to be discrete.” She saw the pain in his eyes. “I will not clean your house, wash your clothes, cook your meals or plant your flowers. I will share your life with you only in areas of mutual interest. I will pursue my own interests whether you like it or not. I will have sex with you any time and any way you like. As your wife, I would owe you that."

He got up and sat beside her, placing his arm around her waist.

“I have been saving money for Annie's future—college or whatever. I don't give a shit what she does when she grows up. I just want to make sure she has choices. I want a prenuptial agreement which will guarantee that if the marriage ends, Annie's fund will remain available to her."

“I understand,” he said quietly.

“Do you have life and health insurance?"

“No life insurance, except for a little term policy that covers the mortgage, but I do have health insurance through my employer."

“Annie and I must be added to the health insurance policy and you must take out a large life insurance policy—at least five million dollars—with me as the sole beneficiary."

“You planning to kill me with your pistol or fuck me to death? If I have a choice, I prefer to go with a smile on my face."

“I will continue to work at the club as long as my figure will allow and I am not going to pretend to your friends that I am something I'm not."

“When do you plan to have the ceremony?"

“As soon as you sign my document, the prenup and show me the life insurance policy."

“I'll take Monday off. We can see Susan Kimel and Creasy Green and have Mack perform the ceremony next Saturday."

She chuckled. “Creasy Green I remember. Who are the others you mentioned?"

“Susan is Dot's only attorney and Mack McGee is the doctor's husband and also the pastor of the Dot Baptist Church."

“We're not having a church wedding,” she said. “We'll find a magistrate in Charlotte."

“Let me have my way with this one thing, Delilah. Mack is a nice guy. You'll like him. We'll do something simple, perhaps in my ... our ... backyard with the Borders as witnesses. Where will we go on our honeymoon? I've always liked Myrtle Beach."

“I'll yield on the ceremony thing if you keep it simple, but there will be no time for a honeymoon."

“Then we're agreed,” he said solemnly. “Do you think Annie will be okay with this?"

“I told her yesterday I was thinking about marrying you. She's delighted."

“If we hurry, we can get to a jewelry store in Charlotte before they close."

“There's no hurry in buying rings, Sam. You know I can't wear a ring in my act."

He nodded.

“Are you sure you understand all my conditions?"

He nodded again.

“You're okay with me, uh, sleeping around?"

“No, but I accept it.” His eyes swept the pool. “Do you think I haven't guessed what you've been doing with that guy on the diving board every time we've visited the pool?"

“I ... I'll break it off with him."

“I didn't ask you to do that."

“I know, but I promised to be discrete. With him living in Dot, that may be hard to pull off."

“That's up to you, Delilah."

Why does he insist on calling me Delilah? she wondered.

Shelly duck-walked to the front edge of the stage, lay on her back, lifted her legs into the air and slipped her hand under the crotch of her g-string. She moved the back of her hand against the fabric, making the salivating men think she was furiously masturbating. You can do this, Shelly, she promised herself. It's Sunday. You have tomorrow off.

“Okay, guys,” a male voice boomed from the speaker system, “the time has come. Number three one two one, come on down!"

She strained to get a peek at tonight's tormentor as two bouncers placed portable steps on one side of the stage. My God, she thought, that's a funny looking guy—skinny with bushy honey-blond hair and wearing a damn jacket. She chuckled as she watched the bouncer give the night's winner his instructions. That's a fake mustache if I ever saw one, she observed.

Shelly rolled over and balanced on her hands and knees. She wagged her dangling breasts while crawling towards the top of the stairs. She watched the odd looking man climb the steps and kissed his shoes when he stood before her. Something isn't right here, she thought as she placed her hands on the man's hips and struggled to her feet. Following the script, she locked her arms around his neck and lifted her head for the expected kiss.

His tongue darted around the inside of her mouth. That tongue has been inside me before. Who the hell is this? She pressed her cheek to his and ground her breasts against him. His hair smells like ... damn!

“Go along with me,” Sandra Dollar whispered in her ear. “I wanted to experience what it's like to be on stage in a strip club. It cost Tim twenty-five grand to make me tonight's winner and I'm scared half to death."

“It takes all kinds,” Shelly replied. “Kneel down and pull off my g-string."

“No,” Sandy said, slipping her hands to Shelly's buttocks and squeezing hard as the audience cheered. “Kiss me again and at the same time turn me towards the audience. I'm not wearing a bra. Slowly unbutton my shirt and fondle my boobs."

Shelly was too tired and confused to argue. When she pulled back both the jacket and shirt, the audience roared its approval upon realizing there were two women on stage.

Sandy broke the kiss, pulled off the mustache and leaned into Shelly, resting her head on the stripper's left shoulder. She moaned as loud as she could for the audience's benefit as Shelly squeezed her breasts and twisted her nipples.

“Slide you hand under my pants and pretend to masturbate me. I'll pretend to faint with pleasure."

“We must put on a better show than that. They want to see pussy.” Shelly unbuckled Sandra's belt, opened the button and zipped down the fly. She tugged Sandy's pants and panties to mid thigh and buried her middle finger between Sandy's labia.

“That's enough,” Sandra hissed as the crowd stamped their feet and clapped their hands in time with the throbbing drumbeat coming from giant speakers.

“You ain't seen nothing, yet, Mrs. Dollar. Hump my hand. Do it, damn it or I'll make you lick my cunt right here in front of everybody."

Sandra obeyed, uncomfortable with the pleasure the obscene public gesture pumped through her body.

“This is show biz, Sandy. Now it's time to faint."

Sandy cried out as if in the throws of a tremendous orgasm and crumpled to the floor.

As the drumbeat grew louder, Shelly removed her g-string and pranced around Sandy's limp body. Suddenly, she straddled the slender woman with a foot on either side of Sandra's nude chest. She grabbed Sandra's hair, lifted her head and used her nose as a dildo.

“De-liii-lah!” she screamed, as if in orgasmic convulsion. She eased the author back to the stage floor, squatted, accepted the cigarette stage prop, inserted it strategically and side stepped around the stage, watching Sandra out of her peripheral vision.

The bouncers pulled up Sandra's pants, closed the jacket and carried the woman, still pretending to be unconscious, back to her anxious husband.

The customers gave Sandra a standing round of lewd, appreciative applause.

“You damn near caused a riot,” Tim groused as they roared away from the club in his Mustang convertible.

“Not to worry, husband of mine,” Sandra said. “It'll never happen again."

“Did you see how many men crammed into that place for the midnight show?"

Sandra nodded. “I'd like to have a nickel for every drink they ordered."

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

“Forget it, Tim. It would never fly in Dot."

“Not a sleazy joint like the Crazy Cat Club, but a swanky club just might be popular. Maybe we could have male strippers on alternate nights."

“Hmm."

Susan Kimel clicked the print icon and turned back to Shelly and Sam as the laser printer began to hum. “You will need to sign all three copies."

“Why three?” Shelly asked, watching the paper smoothly emerge from the printer.

“One for each of you and one for the Register of Deeds office."

“Do you anticipate any, uh, legal problems with it?” Shelly asked as Sam bounced the smiling Annie on his knee.

Susan smiled. “It's a standard prenuptial agreement. The only thing odd about it is that your assets coming into the wedding are protected and Sam's are not.” Susan pressed a button on her intercom. “Mrs. White, I need you to notarize a couple of signatures."

“Mrs. Kimel, what is involved in a legal adoption?” Sam asked.

“What?” Shelly gasped. “Sam, we haven't talked about that."

“I was just asking for future reference,” he said.

Susan looked at Shelly. “Is the father living?"

Shelly nodded, confusion showing on her face.

“With the father's approval, there's not much to it. It involves some paperwork and an investigation by the Mecklenburg County Social Services Department."

“Sam, it's sweet for you to want to adopt Annie, but I don't think Boyd would ever approve."

“I haven't seen evidence of any deep love on his part,” Sam debated.

“I hate Boyd,” Annie said. “I want Uncle Sam to be my daddy. Mommy, you promised."

“We'll see, honey."

Sam eased Annie to the floor, stood and nodded to the white-haired administrative assistant as Susan spread the three copies on her desk.

“Shelly, you need to sign here, here and here."

Shelly leaned forward, accepted the offered Rolling Ball pen and carefully signed the three documents.

“And Sam, you need to sign just below Shelly's signatures."