He saw headlights pulling into the driveway through the cracks in the blinds of his living room windows, and he heard the sound of Allison's Beetle. "Hey baby girl, let me call you back later. I need to fix myself another drink and deal with the bitch now," Lester told Sabrina. He made kissy noises into the phone before hanging up on her, tucking his cell phone deep into a crevice in the lazy boy, and getting up to fix another drink for himself.
When Allison opened the front door she was breathless from excitement. She almost ran into the kitchen. She was moving faster than Lester had anticipated, she often came home from the restaurant with sore feet moving slow and grudgingly, praying Lester would already be passed out on the couch and she would not have to deal with him. This time she snuck up behind him in the kitchen and made him jump and almost spill his drink as she wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a bear hug from behind.
"Surprise," Allison smiled lovingly. Lester batted her away angrily. "What the fuck, Allison," he scolded his wife, "you almost spilled my damn drink. What's gotten into you, girl?" Lester was irritated but he was holding back as much as he could, thinking his wife might have gotten ahold of some speed or coke and that was what was motivating her happy behavior. Allison gave Lester a kiss on his cheek and told him to sit down because she had some news. Lester felt something like a rock in the pit of his stomach. Last time she had "big news" it was little Debbie Sue. Lester was sure there was no way he had banged up his wife a fourth time, but he took a very big swig of his sixth rum on the rocks before he followed Allison back to the living room to hear the big news she had for him.
Lester was totally taken aback when his wife started going on about some wildlife sanctuary in Kenya with over 50,000 animals. He thought she must be having a weird trip on some bad drugs she copped at the restaurant. She was not even making sense, blathering on about elephants and what not. She was so hyper, Lester knew better to interrupt her so he just sipped on his drink as she went on and on about this crazy bullshit. He was imagining a naked Sabrina in his mind to keep him peaceful and steady.
Finally, Allison seemed to be done with her long tirade. "So what do you think, honey?" she asked Lester in a sickly sweet tone that made him want to smack the shit out of her. "Think about what?" he asked her, yawning to indicate his boredom. "About moving to Kenya? We could make a lot of money over there! You would be making almost twice what you make now!" What the fuck was this bitch talking about? Lester could not hold back his irritation now. "Are you saying I don't make enough money, bitch?" Lester raised his voice, "you don't think I provide enough for this family?" He stood up from the lazy boy now, and began waving at various toys and things that were scattered throughout the living room. "These little shit kids don't have enough fucking toys, Allison?" He started kicking apart a Lego structure that Junior and Debbie Sue had built in one corner of the living room, scattering little blocks everywhere.
Allison was still too hyped up and excited to realize the danger that was coming her way, and she continued to try to reason with her drunk husband. "No, sweetie, you provide all we need, that isn't what I am trying to say," Allison protested, her voice clearly conveying her frustration. She was so distracted, she didn't notice that Debbie Sue, awoken from her light slumber by the sound of her Lego castle being destroyed, had crept to the living room and was peeking in at her parents from behind the corner. "But, you know how much I want to work as a veterinarian. It has been my dream since high school! This could be a great chance for our family. The kids could experience another culture, we could make decent money, and I could get a start to a career working with wildlife. It could turn our whole life around!"
Lester was pissed off by his wife's stupid idea and her idiotic excitement. Move three kids away from their home to go live in Africa? Hot ass Africa where no one spoke their language and there were guerilla wars and Ebola viruses and all sorts of sickness and poverty. They probably didn't even have toilets over there, but this cunt wife of his wanted to sell the house to go clean up tiger poop while they all lived in a straw hut and shat in a dirt hole in the floor. Through his drunked haze, Lester was clear about one thing. This bitch needed the silly slapped out of her. Also too drunk to notice Debbie Sue's entrance onto the scene, Lester began to violently verbally abuse his wife. He was relentless and did not hold back a thing, telling Allison how stupid and ugly she was and that repulsed him.
The fight escalated, and they were both screaming in loud voices at each other, unwittingly terrifying the onlooking Debbie Sue who was trembling and had tears in her eyes.
Finally, Allison could take it no more. "I may be a stupid ugly bitch, but at least I am no cheater," she yelled at Lester. There was a sharp pause and a chill went through the air as if the room had just turned frozen. "What did you just say, bitch?" Lester asked in a calm, even tone. It was the calm before the storm. Allison shook in fear and refused to repeat herself, her eyes opened wide in terror. She knew what was coming next.
Lester began wailing on his wife, choking her violently and dragging her down to the floor by her throat. He put one knee hard into her stomach, pinning her on the ground as he choked her and bit on her ear until it began to bleed and Allison was howling, seriously fearing he was going to take a chunk out of her body.
"Stop! Stop hurting mommy!" a little voice sobbed, and Debbie Sue ran out from her hiding place and began pounding her little fist on her daddy's back. Blinded by rum and anger, Lester turned around and howled in Debbie Sue's face. "Stop it you little bitch!" he screamed at her, his breath stinking up her nostrils and his eyes seeming to glow as if they were on fire. Debbie Sue screamed and retreated, crying violently. Her pathetic sobs were enough to wake up her older brother and sister. Chastity stayed in bed and let Junior go check out what was going on.
The appearance of his only son, with whom he shared a name, was enough to snap Lester back into father mode. He got up off of his hurting wife and went over and gave Debbie Sue a hug. "I'm sorry honey," Lester told her in a gentle, cooing voice, "let's go to the kitchen and get some chocolate milk. Then it's back to bed, it's way past your bed time and you shouldn't be up right now." Debbie Sue nodded and followed her daddy to the kitchen while her older brother tended to her mother.
Lester Junior helped his mother up and guided her to the bath room where he drew her a hot bubble bath and told her to rest. Allison thanked him and smiled. He gave his mother a peck on the cheek and told her he loved her before scampering off to bed. Allison soaked deep into the bubbles, wishing she could disappear from the world.
Chapter 3, The Limo
Allison took a day off from the restaurant, but after that she was back at work, her damaged ear expertly camouflaged in heavy makeup. Allison often used products that were meant for the stage, using thick and cake like foundations to smooth over any Lester-related issues in her appearance. Lucille, of course, saw right through it, but the diner guests did not. They were blinded by the beautiful blind woman's smile and paid no mind to the fact that she wore her makeup a bit tacky and was wearing an unseasonable turtleneck shirt in late August.
It was the breakfast shift, and the diner was pretty empty. Lucille and Allison were having a hushed conversation between themselves about Lester when they saw a black limousine pull up into the parking lot of the restaurant. They both looked at each other with wide eyes. What the heck was a limo doing visiting the Sunset Diner in their Podunk town?
They watched as the limo driver, dressed in old fashioned suiting, stepped out of the driver's seat to open the passenger door. Out stepped a beautiful, elegantly dressed middle aged woman. Her hair was done up in a tight, impeccable bun, and her outfit looked expensive, to say the least, and judging by the perfect fit it was custom tailored. The woman removed her designer sunglasses to reveal bright, sharp eyes.
The woman entered the diner and Lucille greeted her and took her breakfast order. The woman dined on her toast, eggs, and black coffee in slow silence, and Lucille and Allison returned to
their conversation. Lucille was of the opinion that, now that Allison had accused Lester of cheating, she had entered a world of pain from which there would be no relief. "You know he won't take that sitting down," she told Allison, "things can only get worse from here." Lucille thought that Allison should take the kids and leave Lester. She could stay in a hotel for a while until she found her own place.
"I just can't afford that right now," Allison told Lucille. Even with the all the extra tip money that Allison made and concealed from Lester, she had no savings. She always put the money towards her children, buying them new school supplies or a new toy or a fashionable outfit. She didn't have anything close to enough money for a down payment on an apartment of her own, let alone the money necessary to stay in a hotel more than a day or two. "This is just the way life goes sometimes," Allison smiled, "there are good times and bad times, and right now I am going through a bad time. But, I am sure it will get better someday soon. Anyway, it was my fault for making Lester mad. What was I thinking, moving the whole family to Kenya? I needed to have some sense smacked into me." Allison tried to laugh, but the sound came out funny.
Lucille grumbled, and went to check on the breakfast patron. "How is your meal?" Lucille asked her sweetly. The woman looked up from her plate and told Lucille frankly, "the meal is fine, but I am concerned about your waitress over there. The one in the turtleneck," the woman raised her eyebrow on this last word. Then, speaking loud enough for Allison to hear, the woman agreed with everything that Lucille had told Allison. Allison came closer to be part of the conversation, not wanting any of the other diner patrons to hear what was going on. As she got closer, the woman feigned a gasp. "See, now you are a very beautiful woman," the diner guest told Allison, "you have no reason to live with someone who makes you unhappy, especially not with the fantastic looks that you have. In fact," the woman added, "if you were my woman, honey, you would never have to worry about a single thing. I would treat you right."
Allison blushed and looked very taken aback. What on earth was this rich stranger talking about? "Um, okay, thanks," Allison stammered, feeling confused. The woman smiled what seemed to be a genuine smile, and she handed Allison a business card. "What time does your shift end, sweetie?" the woman asked Allison, "I will pick you up, and we can discuss things further, in private. I will help you find a place where you and your kids can live. I can help you change your life, if that's what you want."
Without a further word, the woman put a crisp hundred-dollar bill down on the table and got up and left. Allison and Lucille watched with goggled eyes as her driver let her back into the limousine, and she drove off at a leisurely clip.
Allison looked at the business card. It was empty except for a name and a small arabesque. The name read, "Harriet Rothchild."
"What on earth was that all about?" Lucille and Allison wondered aloud, staring at the business card, the hundred-dollar bill on the table, and each other. They busted into giggles, unsure of what else to do. They agreed to split the hundred dollars, and then they got to discussing the woman and who she was and what she meant about helping Allison. "Is she gay?" Allison wondered. Lucille thought so, "after all, she said she would take care of you. I hope she isn't thinking she is going to have you give her sex in exchange for money or something. You don't want to get into prostitution, Allison, that isn't a good look for you." Allison agreed, but she didn't think that the woman was a madam. She had no real reason for thinking this, it was just a hunch.
That evening, after a hard day of work, Allison waited in the restaurant, hoping that the mysterious woman would come and pick her up now that her shift was over. Allison watched a plodding evening service, only a few regulars and some drunk kids needing some greasy food and coffee to fight off the alcohol. Allison was seated in a booth by the window, and she kept her eye on the parking lot, waiting and waiting for Harriet Rothchild to come and pick her up in her fancy black limousine. Allison watched the sun go down, and the moon rise. After hours of waiting, long sighs, and a lot of checking her watch, Allison felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Lucille. "I'm sorry honey, but I've got to close down for the night," Lucille told her. Allison mustered a small smile through her glumness. "Of course, Lucille. I don't know what I am waiting for anyway," she laughed uncomfortably.
Allison left the restaurant, climbed into her rusty old 1966 VW Beetle, which she was surprised to see started fine tonight, and she began her drive home to Lester.
Chapter 4, Thank You Jesus
Lester had been asleep when Allison got home that night. Which was a good thing. It meant no strained conversations, no chance of a beating. Lester had fallen asleep, snoring loudly, on the lazy boy in the living room, so that meant that Allison had the bed to herself. She had changed into a pair of pajamas and hopped in under the covers without washing off her makeup.
The next morning, Allison was awoken by the sound of a noisy car pulling into their lot. The car was kicking up a lot of dust, and at first Allison could not make out what kind of car it was or who was inside. As the dust cleared, things became more visible and Allison saw that it was an old black Mustang with paint peeling off. Inside sat a young woman, a very young woman, Allison thought she couldn't be a day over seventeen. She waited in the driveway for several minutes, applying eyeliner in the rearview mirror. Then she looked down, as if checking her watch of her phone, and leaned on the horn with an irritated look on her face.
Allison cringed as she heard the Mustang's horn blare loudly. There were three sleeping kids inside her small trailer home and she did not want them woken up early because of some impatient teenager. Allison watched as Lester ran out of the house in his boxer shorts and made wild gestures at the girl. Allison could not hear what they were saying, but she gathered it was something like "knock it off with the horn, you are going to wake my wife up," to which the girl replied something like, "yeah, whatever, then hurry up."
Lester ran back inside of the house and Allison ducked under the covers as she heard him approaching the bedroom, pretending to still be asleep. She heard Lester mutter something that sounded like "thank you Jesus," under his breath, and she heard him stomping around in the closet pulling out shoes and work clothes. He went to the bathroom and gargled some mouth wash and wetted a brush and combed his hair back. Allison heard the sound of a spritz of the cheap cologne Lester brought home from work, and then Lester rushed out of the room and out of the house and into the girl's Mustang.
Hearing the front door slam, Allison peeked back out from the covers and watched as her husband, now done up the nicest way he knew possible, climbed into the young girl's car. He was dressed in his manager's vest, so Allison knew he was on the way to work. Maybe this was just some young new hire that Lester was training for the day. Allison's desperate hopes were dashed when she saw Lester pull the girl close to him and French kiss her passionately.
Allison's stomach churned, but she found herself unable to turn away as she watched her husband make out with the much younger woman in the front seat of her Mustang. She could even see as Lester slipped a hand up her shirt and began to squeeze on one of her supple young titties. Allison felt disgust and jealousy growing in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't help but wonder if her own aging body was no good anymore, and how her husband must feel playing with a young girl's breasts. Breasts that had not experienced three children or the extra years of gravity pulling them down. Allison's own mind became her enemy, whispering mean nothings to her about what an ugly failure she was. Allison was too busy listening to the voice inside of her head to notice that it spoke in the same tone as Lester.
Thankfully, Lester's gal peeled out of the driveway loudly and Allison could no longer be a witness to her cheating husband's sexy morning advances. Feeling defeated, Allison went back under the covers to snooze fitfully until her own alarm woke her up for work.
Chapter 5, Deep Down Inside
At the restaurant, Allison clocked in and then ran over to Lucille to complain about what she
had witnessed that morning. Lucille gave Allison a comforting, motherly hug. Truth be told, however, Lucille was getting a bit sick of how Allison kept hanging on to this dying relationship. It was one thing when Allison could try to convince her that deep down Lester really loved her and never looked at other women. That was one of Allison's favorite excuses for enduring his spousal abuse, "at least he doesn't cheat." Lucille had always suspected that to be a lie, but now Allison had the proof right in front of her eyes, undeniable. What more did she need, to spy on Lester banging the young girl out?!
Still, Lucille tried to remain patient, reminding herself that abuse was a vicious cycle and very hard to leave. Lucille knew that firsthand. Back in her younger years, she had fallen in with an incredibly manipulative man who had taken her on a ride for all her money and then left her heartbroken, broke and in serious debt, and physically and emotionally battered. In her foolishness, she had defended the man, making every excuse for him, refusing to take him to court or pursuing any sort of punitive justice. And whenever his latest fling fell apart and he showed up at her door poor, hungry, in need of drug money and a good meal, Lucille had always let him in. And each time her heart had soared. Each time she thought it was her chance for things to turn around in their relationship. She would give the man what small amount of money she had and cook him a nourishing meal. He would inevitably insult her, making a bad comment about her appearance or criticizing her cooking, and then, amidst her tears, he would fuck her rough until she was raw. Then he would spend a night or two sleeping in her bed, before randomly disappearing until he needed another bail out.
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