Each Day

"What?" Stephanie shrilled, outraged.

She slapped her Visa card down. If the receptionist was perturbed by her abrupt, aggressive mannerisms, the young girl hid it well.

"And your individual session's Thursday, the ninth, at nine," the woman said pleasantly. "Makes it easy to remember, nine on the ninth."

Whitney, Courtney, the receptionist at Billy's office put Stephanie through.

"Yes?" Billy asked.

"Really? Made me pay for that?" Stephanie shrilled.

"You're the one wanted counseling, you pay for it," Billy said. "Anything else? Working on filling this order, needs it by four."

Leslie did not sympathize with her daughter; she had her own struggles. Day after day, she sent emails to Vince, begging him to come home. His Facebook page didn't change; his status said he was married to Leslie Davis.

His last post was the morning of Stephanie's wedding. It read simply 'Ding dong, the witch is dead.'

Leslie didn't know if she, or Stephanie was the witch Vince was referring to.

The day of the wedding, her phone calls went directly to his voice mail. By Sunday afternoon, his voice mail said that it was full and could receive no new messages.

And by Monday morning, his cell number said that it had been changed or was no longer in service.

So, Stephanie's problems were just that, Stephanie's problems. She was the one that dug herself into this mess, she could just dig herself back out.

Three months after the wedding, Leslie came home, saw Stephanie had destroyed one box of Girl Scouts' Thin Mint Cookies and was starting on a second box of the delicious treats. Leslie started to say something, then shrugged. She didn't care. She just didn't care.

There was a large container of Blew Bell Homemade Vanilla Bean Ice Cream in the garbage can. It had been half full that morning.

"I suppose I should be somehow grateful you managed to get it to the trash can," Leslie commented.

"Huh? What's that mean?" Stephanie snapped bitterly.

"Well, usually, you just leave the empty container right where you ate it, just leave it right there for someone else pick up after you," Leslie snapped.

Chapter 14

As the date of the Engineers' Convention loomed near, Jack Warner suggested seeing if he could get Vince Davis there. Even though he'd not participated in any social media, it had not been too difficult to track Vincent Aaron Davis down. Leslie almost smirked; Vince had wound up in DeGarde, Louisiana. DeGarde, Louisiana was where the detective agency had located Darren James.

Jack told Leslie that he had tried, and Vince's boss, Joe Gaudet had tried, but Vince refused to attend the convention.

"I mean, shit, welcome come along anyway," Jack said. "Who knows; might change his mind at the last minute."

"He won't change his mind," Leslie said, shaking her head.

"Leslie, I uh, damn, when's the last time you ate anything?" Jack asked, truly concerned.

She looked haggard, her skin was hanging loosely on her skeletal frame. Even her hair looked lackluster.

"What? I had lunch twenty minutes ago," Leslie snapped.

Debbie had also mentioned Leslie's appearance to Leslie.

"Damn, Mom, you're losing weight faster than Stephanie's piling it on," Debbie had said.

"Kiss my ass," Stephanie barked.

"That's an all day job; seen your ass lately?" Nicholas said.

"Leave Stephanie alone," David said.

"Thank you; why you my favorite brother," Stephanie said, glaring at Nicholas.

"Can't help Jenny Craig rejected her," David continued.

Both men laughed, then discussed the upcoming trade of the St. Louis Rams to Los Angeles.

Leslie decided she would bite the bullet, swallow any pride she might have and grovel. She would beg Vince to please return to her, to their home.

The young lady that answered the telephone at the St. Elizabeth facility had a Cajun accent so thick, Leslie asked if she could be transferred to someone in America.

"Man! I'm right here in Louisiana yeah!" the girl barked angrily. "Where you from, huh?"

"Colfax, Missouri," Leslie said, biting back her anger. "May I speak with Vince Davis, please?"

"Him? He ain't here no more," the girl affirmed.

"Then may I speak with Mr. Gaudet?" Leslie asked.

She, of course, pronounced the name 'Gaw dett.

"Who?" the girl asked, baffled.

"Gaudet, Gaudet," Leslie barked. "G. A. U. D. E. T. The CEO?"

"Oh! You mean, Mr. Gaudet?" the girl laughed and placed Leslie on hold.

The girl had pronounced the name with its Cajun pronunciation of 'go DAY.'

Joe Gaudet confirmed what the girl had told Leslie; Vince Davis had turned in his resignation and was no longer with the facility.

"Last I heard, he went to Oak Tree, Oak Grove, some place in Texas," Joe offered.

It took a mild heart attack to snap Leslie out of her funk. She woke up one night, unable to catch her breath. At first, she was convinced it was just a panic attack, an episode. But as the minutes ticked by and her breathing became more labored, she truly became frightened.

Fortunately, Stephanie was still up, downstairs in the living room, watching a soft-core porn movie and polishing off a box of Crunch N' Munch. Stephanie helped her mother out to the car, truly dismayed at how frail her mother had become.

As she drove them to Northlake Hospital, Stephanie again hated Vince Davis.

David was at the hospital within thirty minutes of Stephanie's call. Debbie and Nicholas were there forty minutes later, both looking sleepy.

"Call Jack?" David asked Stephanie.

"Jack?" Stephanie asked.

"Her boss? Her friend? Jesus, Stephanie, get a clue, huh?" David snapped and called Jack Warner himself.

Exercise, diet, medication, the usual things prescribed when someone has a mild heart attack. And Jack Warner stood at the foot of her hospital bed and glared at Leslie.

"Get it together," he barked. "Get yourself together, or you're fired."

Then he turned and strode purposefully out of the hospital room.

"What an ass hole!" Stephanie said.

"Ass hole's right, Mom," Debbie said. "You really need to get yourself together."

Now, sitting in her office, holding onto the papers, Leslie felt that she might have a second heart attack. Nicholas answered his cell phone immediately; he knew his mother in law wouldn't call him at the office unless it was important.

"Well, at least the waiting's over," he finally said.

He called Mei Lon Soo, the attorney that Vince had hired and chatted with the young attorney. He agreed that he would be representing Mrs. Davis in the proceedings and provided Mei Lon Soo with all his contact information.

"Well, Leslie," Nicholas said. "Real straightforward from what I can see..."

"Any chance we could get counseling?" Leslie interrupted.

"Hmm? No, afraid not," Nicholas admitted.

He braced, hoping the news would not cause Leslie to have a second heart attack. After a long silence, he asked if she was still there.

"Yeah, I'm here," she said lifelessly.

"Leslie, I'm sorry, but Mei Lon Soo said she's representing him In Absentia. Besides, been more than three years. Even if he was living right next door, no judge would go for counseling after that much time's run off the clock."

"One meeting. God, just get me one meeting with him," Leslie begged.

Leslie went home and pulled out the red dress Vince had liked so much. But when she tried it on, it looked garish. It just hung off of her drooped shoulders and made her breasts look stringy.

She called Claudette, the girl that'd been doing her hair for years and made an appointment. Then she went to the mall and tried to find a dress that would emphasize her charms.

"God! When did I get old?" Leslie finally snarled as dress after dress just made her look sad, old.

"Least I still have the legs," Leslie told herself as she tried on yet another dress.

"Uh, yeah," one sales clerk whispered to another sales clerk.

The day of the appointment with Mei Lon Soo of Upjohn, Mei & Associates, Leslie and Nicholas were shown to a nicely appointed conference room. There were only eight chairs around a heavy wooden table; it was a smaller room.

"Coffee? Water?" The attractive assistant asked them.

"Know what? Coffee with a little cream?" Nicholas asked.

"Ma'am?" the girl smiled.

"Decaf? Uh, with some Equal?" Leslie asked.

"Absolutely," the girl agreed.

A moment later, she returned with two steaming mugs.

"Got one of those one cup jobs; I love it," she smiled as she set the cups down on napkins.

"The K-Cup? Yeah, just got one little while back," Nicholas agreed.

"Thank you," Leslie said.

"No problem," the girl said.

"Well, I'm so glad doing your job is no problem," Leslie said tersely as the door closed.

She turned to Nicholas.

"That is such a pet peeve of mine; people that say 'no problem' instead of 'you're welcome,'" she said.

"Uh huh; thought about what you're going say?" Nicholas asked.

Again, Leslie wondered if it was a panic attack, or possibly a heart attack. She had rehearsed for this moment several times over the past few years. Finally, she shook her head 'no' and forced a smile to her face.

"Why I have you here," she said.

Before Nicholas could respond, an attractive Asian-American woman entered the room. Her long hair was done into a thick braid that dangled down to nearly the floor. Her outfit was a crisp, tailored suit, yet she made it look feminine. She smiled at the occupants as she settled in a chair across the table from them.

Leslie's heart caught in her throat when Vince entered the room. He had been a handsome young man when she'd met him. Now, he was still quite handsome, but there was a great deal of maturity in his tanned face, his brown eyes.

He had not dressed up for the occasion. He wore khaki trousers and a stark white golf shirt. He had a black belt that matched his black loafers.

"My attorney said I didn't have to be here," Vince said bluntly as he took his seat.

He peered at Leslie. No emotions showed on his face.

"But we were married for what? Leslie? How long have we been married?" Vince asked.

That had been one bone of contention; Leslie couldn't remember dates, couldn't remember numbers. When Vince had asked her how old her children were, Leslie actually had to stop and think. When people asked them how long they'd been married, Leslie always looked to Vince to answer the question.

Now, Leslie stared at Vince. Nicholas shifted in his seat.

"Eleven years," Vince answered before Nicholas could speak. "We've been married for eleven years as of the twenty third of last month. So I told Mei Lon Soo I suppose I owe it to you to do this face to face."

"You uh, you look good," Leslie finally said.

"Thank you; you're beautiful, as always," Vince lied.

It had actually been a shock, seeing Leslie looking every bit of her fifty three years of age. The crow's feet at the corners of her eyes were buzzard's claws now. Her forehead was furrowed with lines. There were large bags under her pretty blue eyes, large puffy bags. Along her jaw, skin hung loosely.

Her arms looked frail as well. But even in their frail appearance, there was loose skin hanging from them, showing weight loss, showing inactivity.

Her hair was styled pretty much like she'd always had it styled. It had been an attractive style, when her face showed vitality. Now, it almost looked odd.

"So, uh, how you been?" Leslie stammered.

"Been good," Vince said.

He did not elaborate. A long silence stretched out. Leslie brightened.

"Oh, uh, you're a grandfather," she said.

"Hey, hey, congratulations," Vince said genially to Nicholas.

"Hmm? Oh no, no, not me," Nicholas quickly corrected.

"Dav..." Vince guessed.

"Stephanie," Leslie said.

"God help that poor child," Vince said bitterly.

"But, I uh, I thought she and Billy divorced?" Vince asked a moment later.

"Did," Nicholas said. "She uh, she's raising the baby alone."

"Bull shit," Vince said, only a trace of bitterness in his voice now. "Leslie? Let me guess; you're the one raising your grandchild."

"Vince? Is there, is there any chance...?" Leslie asked, lip quivering.

Vince looked at his attorney. The woman reached into her briefcase and pulled out a folder. She handed it to Vince.

"Leslie, I loved you, loved you with all my heart," Vince said quietly, tapping a corner of the file folder on the polished table.

"And I love you," Leslie agreed.

"Really? Did you really?" Vince asked, the bitterness creeping back into his voice.

"I did, I still do," Leslie said, voice urgent.

"Then, why, Leslie?" Vince asked, flipping open the file folder and pulling out a photograph of Leslie and Darren in a passionate embrace.

She stared at the offending photograph. Vince flipped a second one that showed Leslie and Darren in the back seat of her car. The beautiful red dress was hiked up around her waist. Another photograph showed the two entering the lobby of the Roadway Motor Lodge. The next one showed them entering room two twelve.

Leslie couldn't see any of the photographs. Tears blurred her vision.

"He was my, we'd been married, I just," Leslie sobbed out.

"And I would have, I would have overlooked this," Vince said, flipping another and another photograph in front of Leslie.

The last photograph was of the rehearsal dinner. It showed a beaming Leslie and Darren seated at the table with Stephanie. Just in the far corner, Vince could barely be seen, sitting at a table with Meg and Bernice Wooten.

"I could have overlooked all of this. Would have been hard, but because I loved you so much... But this? This blatant disrespect? In front of everyone?" Vince said, voice thick.

For several long moments, the only sound was of Leslie's labored breathing and occasional sniffle. Finally, Nicholas cleared his throat.

"So, uh, where did you get these?" he asked, indicating the photographs.

"I hired the private investigator Leslie had hired to find Darren," Vince said, eyes on Leslie.

She didn't look up, just shook her head. Another long moment of silence passed.

"Darren didn't just 'pop up' as Leslie claimed. So I had him followed. Took less than a week," Vince said as he gathered up the photographs.

"We uh, we'd like to request counseling," Nicholas weakly said.

"There really, there never was any chance, was there?" Leslie moaned.

"I'm sorry, Leslie," Vince said quietly.

Leslie burst into heart wrenching sobs. Vince's own face was a mask of pain as he watched the woman's collapse. Mei Lon Soo moved to slide a box of tissues across the table, but it was Vince that gently nudged Nicholas's hand with the box.

"That was painful," Mei Lon Soo said an hour later.

She and Vince sat in her office, waiting for the courier to pick up the signed and notarized documents. Vince was staring at an Oriental print on Mei Lon Soo's wall. He just nodded in agreement.

"When I, when this all started," Vince said, giving a wave of his hand. "I called Ben Upjohn, talked with him."

Vince sighed. Mei Lon Soo waited.

"He uh, he wanted to go full bore, scorch the earth, burn everyone in the way," Vince said.

"Sounds like Ben," Mei Lon Soo agreed.

"Me? I just wanted to get away from the pain," Vince admitted. "I really couldn't see how burning Leslie, taking her for every penny I could, I just didn't see how that would kill the pain."

He stared at the Oriental print again.

"I just wanted to get away," Vince said. "Just put as much distance between me and the pain as I possibly could."

"So, why did you come?" Mei Lon Soo asked, also glancing at the print.

"I loved her; still do," Vince said.

She nodded as the courier entered the office. The man picked up the manila envelope and left again.

"Guess I felt like I owed it to her," Vince said.

He got to his feet and grabbed his motorcycle helmet off of the other office chair. He pulled on his jean jacket and checked that his keys were in the pocket.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Vince said. "There's a lot of highway between here and Texas."

*.*.*.

Monica entered the condominium, pregnant belly looking ready to pop. She plopped the day's mail on the counter. With a sigh, she gratefully slipped out of her shoes.

"Does Mommy need a foot rub?" Vince asked.

"And a back rub and a leg rub," Monica agreed and smiled at him.

"How about a titty rub and a hiney rub too?" Vince asked.

"Uh huh, and you start rubbing those..." Monica laughed.

She indicated her swollen body.

"But how can you even think about that stuff? God, I'm huge, I'm a whale here," Monica happily protested.

"You're pregnant, you're beautiful, and oh my God are you sexy," Vince corrected her.

An envelope from Upjohn, Mei & Associates caught his attention. He opened the envelope.

Inside of that envelope was another envelope. In the upper left hand corner was an address sticker. The address label was from Stephanie James and gave Leslie's street address. She had mailed it to him, care of Upjohn, Mei & Associates law firm.

Monica saw Vince's face darken and walked around the counter. She gently touched his muscled bicep, then leaned heavily against him.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"From my ex-stepdaughter," Vince nearly snarled.

"What's it say?" Monica asked quietly.

"Beats the shit out of me," Vince said, tossing the envelope back onto the counter.

Then he looked at the bank statement, the utility bill, a sales flyer.

"Who in the hell doesn't know we're pregnant?" Vince asked, looking at the sales flyer for a toy store. "Huh? We're getting shit from every baby store, toy store, maternity store for a thousand miles around."

"Aw, look at the Scooby-Do playpen!" Monica said.

Later that evening, Vince did open the envelope. He smirked that Stephanie had started the letter with 'Dear Vince.'

"Oh, I'm so sure you're sorry," Vince muttered as he read her words.

He got no further than the second paragraph; the letter went from being apologetic to Stephanie making excuses for her inexcusable behavior. He wadded up the single sheet of paper, took one look at the photograph of a curly headed baby girl and threw the letter, the envelope, and the photograph into the wastebasket.

"Fucking snowflakes, I swear," Vince muttered.

"I heard that," Monica called out.

"When's the last time I called you a snowflake?" he asked, entering their bedroom.

"Where's that back rub you promised me?" Monica asked, laying nude on their bed.

"Coming right up," he smiled as he began to undress.

"Now why you getting naked?" she smiled as she watched his beautiful, muscular body approaching the bed.

While Vince was applying almond oil to Monica's back, 'accidentally' getting some of the oil between Monica's buttocks, Stephanie was cursing Vince Davis. She changed Gabrielle's diaper, which her mother normally did, then nearly screamed at the infant when she accidentally pierced the girl's flesh with a diaper pin.

"Well, if you wouldn't wiggle around so God damned much," Stephanie shrilled at the crying child.

Billy had insisted on a paternity test. It was humiliating, sitting in the doctor's office, sitting and glaring at each other. She had told him she would let him know the results but Billy had laughed a cutting, cruel laugh.

"Like I'd believe you," he said.

Dr. Nina Soo, an attractive Asian-American woman had come into the office, smiled her professional smile, and sat down behind the desk. Then, she dashed Stephanie's hopes, smashed them into a million pieces.

"Bye!" Billy giggled and patted Stephanie on the head, like she was a dog.

"There's no... You're sure?" Stephanie blurted out. "I mean, Billy's only one I ever..."

Even after the divorce, Billy would come running whenever Stephanie would call and indicate that she was 'feeling a little lonely.' They would meet up for dinner or drinks, which usually wound up back at his apartment.