More than I Deserve

"It was nice talking to you," I said. And turned to leave.

"It was at first," she said, "it's just too bad that you're too stupid to know what's going on."

"I'm smart enough to know when someone is making fun of me though," I spat.

"Robby, no one is making fun of YOU," she said. "It's the assholes you came here with that we were talkin' about. Then you called me a whore. I ain't a whore. I only been with a handful a guys in my whole life. I got five brothers. They don't let many guys near me. I thought you were somethin' special."

"Why?" I asked. "I got both of your questions wrong and you seem to enjoy pointing out how stupid I am."

"That's because you're so God Damned smart," she said. "Who does math while they eat? Who does math when they don't have to? And you need to know that sometimes the answer is more than the answer and sometimes things just are what they are." She seemed extremely passionate about what she was saying.

"You saw mah name tag and you noticed that it said "Sam," she said. "You assumed that my full name was Samantha but my name is just Sam. My momma promised her brother that she'd name her next kid after him and with five boys in a row, it seemed like a sure bet that I was gonna be a boy too. My uncle Sam died two weeks before I was born and a promise is a promise."

She was getting herself even more worked up. "What about your eyes?" I asked. "I just described them the way I saw them." She eased her way closer to me. Then she wrapped her arms back around me and sighed.

"I love the way you described mah eyes," she said. She sighed again and was almost purring. "Mah brothers and the guys around here prefer light eyes on women," she said. "I guess it's more exotic. All mah life I was told that mah eyes are shit kicker blue." I laughed so hard that it caused me to squeeze her.

"There's that hammer again," she giggled.

"What is shit kicker blue?" I asked.

"Around here the best and the smartest guys work in the plant," she said. "The next best guys work for the Sheriff or the town. The next best guys work in the stores or the gas station. Then there's the coal miners and the lowest on the totem pole are the farmers, also known as the shit kickers. They spend all a their time lookin' down at the ground and the plants, so when they do look up they're always amazed at how blue the sky is."

I started laughing again and she snuggled even closer to me. "But that ain't why I asked you that question," she said. "I just wanted ta see if you felt the way about me that I feel about you."

"But how would you know that?" I asked.

"Because if you really like me then you'd be staring at mah face," she said. "If you didn't you'd a just been staring at mah titties. And Robby, you love me."

It was the silliest little thing. A name is a huge part of us. My Name is Robert. I have been called Robert, Rob, Bert, and even Just plain BOB. Mona called me Bobby and made me feel like I belonged to her. For the last eight months Bobby had been in a funk. Actually that was putting it mildly. Bobby had been on the verge of a clinical depression that made me withdraw into a shell.

Sam calling me Robby made me a new man. Changing one letter of my name made me hers and brought me out of my depression.

We spent most of that night talking. I told her about my life before meeting her. It was surprising but for the first time, I was able to talk about Mona without pain. It was as if Mona and all of my feelings for her had been put away like my Hotwheels cars. When I was a kid they were the most important things in my life. But I'm a grown up now. I want real cars.

"So all your life ya only had one girl and the bitch did that to ya?" she smiled. I just nodded

"Serves ya right," she smiled. "Ya shoulda waited for ME." My raised eyebrow made her laugh.

"What?" she laughed.

"Then shouldn't you have been waiting for me too?" I asked. "What about your handful of guys."

"I'm twenny years old," she said. "I've been on five dates in my whole life. One date each with five different guys. That includes tonight with you."

"This was a date?" I asked. We were lying in soft grass under the summer sky.

"What'd ya think it was," she asked. "Maybe you ain't been around too much."

I rolled over and kissed her it started her to purring again. My hands gently rubbed her sides and she moaned. I moved on top of her and she wrapped her long legs around me.

"Robby, are ya sure you wanna do this?" she asked.

"Very," I said.

"Okay," she smiled. "I do too. I'm really sure." she started to unbutton her shirt. But I was curious about the tone in her voice.

"So weren't you sure the other times?" I asked. All kinds of thoughts went through my mind. I saw huge mountain men forcing her against her will. And I imagined caveman like brutes dragging her into a barn by that long red hair.

She stopped unbuttoning and looked at me with those eyes flashing. I swear I could see them glowing in the dark. "What other times?" she asked.

We both sat up and looked at each other. "You said you'd been with a handful of guys," I said.

"Yeah a handful," she said. She held up her hand. All four of her fingers squeezed together and then touched her thumb in an "O" shape.

"Sam, that's a zero," I said.

"Damn, you're good at math," she quipped.

"But a handful is like four or five," I said.

"I told you I'm not a whore," she said. "Don't you know what this means?"

"Sam, just to be clear," I said. "What is a whore around here?"

"The same as it is everywhere else," she said angrily. "A woman who fucks a guy she ain't married to. Ya got some crazy ideas in the city. That's why I asked you if you was sure. Cause if we do it, we're married. I don't think you would, but if ya tried to run out on me, my brothers would track you down and ..."

Our mouths pushing together cut her off in mid sentence.

* * * * * *

Mona

My life had been spinning out of control since the day that Bobby left to go to work. Logically, I know that it was necessary for our future. We had discussed it for weeks and I hadn't seen any problems with it. I realized that it wouldn't be a picnic for either one of us. I also realized that being in the arctic and working his ass off under dangerous conditions meant that it would be worse for Bobby. And I knew that while he was going through all of that, he would miss me as much as I missed him.

But when it actually came down to it, I couldn't handle it. What can I say? I'm a human being. I'm not perfect. I make mistakes and maybe I just love Bobby too much to be separated from him. Maybe I'm weak and succumbed to the loneliness far easier than I ever thought I would.

And what I did has absolutely nothing to do with my love for Bobby. It was all about me being a human woman and needing companionship or just the touch of another human being.

Bobby was never supposed to find out about it. And to this day he never has. But now in an attempt to get him back I need to tell him that I'm not angry about what he did and that I understand it all too well.

I really believe that the reason Bobby left me is because he was human too. I spent weeks crying over Bobby and believing he was dead only to get divorce papers from him through some skanky lawyer.

I refused to sign the divorce papers. I needed to talk to Bobby. There was so much that I needed to tell him. The lawyer explained to me that Bobby was going through some things and that refusing him the divorce would only make him angrier at me.

I was sure that I could fix things between us, if only I had the chance. The lawyer in his two thousand dollar suit explained to me that Bobby really didn't need me to sign the papers. The only difference it made was time. We literally had nothing and Bobby had given it all to me. Instead of half of nothing, I got all of nothing.

Finally he offered me a letter from Bobby if I signed the papers. Thinking that I couldn't do any better I agreed. I signed the papers to make Bobby happy. The lawyer had already explained that even if I didn't sign them. Bobby would get his divorce. It would just take an extra six months or so.

The letter from Bobby was very short and it made me cry. I spent several months going over it and looking at it in different ways. Bobby claimed that he had found someone else and that he didn't love me anymore.

I knew it was bullshit. What Bobby was feeling was guilt. I was feeling it too. I think that Bobby was having problems admitting that he had been human and lonely and had sex with another woman and couldn't bring himself to tell me. I wish that I could tell him that I understood it because I had done the same thing.

If anything my guilt was far worse than his. I had made an even bigger mistake. I had somehow let that asshole Sam get me pregnant. When Bobby came back, I was sure that if we could only sit down together we could work things out. Sure there would be a lot of anger and yelling but we had both done the same thing. It might take us a while but we would eventually get things back on track. We belonged together.

As the summer stretched on and with it my belly, my life went even further down the tubes. I had to get a job, just so I could keep the apartment. I had given some thought to moving back in with my parents but I loved that little place. Besides, it's where Bobby would look for me once he got his head out of his ass and came home.

As the months marched on, I started seeing Sam again. Well seeing him wasn't exactly true. I was so lonely that I started saying yes when he asked to come over and fuck me.

This time things were worse. I couldn't even enjoy the sex. They say that pregnant women are supposed to be horny all the time. I wasn't, I just put up with it to fight the loneliness.

Just before I had my son, I ran into one of Bobby's classmates. I asked him if he'd seen Bobby.

"I spent half of the summer in West Virginia with him," he told me. "He's miserable, but he doesn't know it."

"What about his new girlfriend?" I asked. He looked at me like I was crazy. "What girlfriend?" He gushed.

"Look, I'm gonna tell you the truth Mona. You and Bobby breaking up hurt him pretty bad. There was a lot of partying going on there but Bobby didn't do any of it. He worked 6 days a week and studied on Sunday. I never saw him so much as talk to a girl. I had to leave during the midsummer break ... I picked up a disease from one of the uhm ... Places I ate while I was there. But trust me, when I left he was still mooning over you."

That only made me even more confused and even guiltier about everything I had done. And then the bottom dropped out and I hit rock bottom.

Sam had lost his job and been thrown out of his apartment. He ended up moving in with me. I had no choice as he put it. I couldn't put the man who kept me from being lonely and my first love out on the street.

My parents helped me out for a while after I had Joey. Sam also gave me part of his unemployment checks until I could go back to my job at McDonald's.

The weeks turned into months that slowly became years. Over time I became a bitter woman. My life sucked, I hated my job and I was sure there was something wrong with my kid.

I ate all of the wrong foods and I was beginning to look more like my mom than I did me. For some reason Sam and I were still living together, but it was a pathetic existence at best. We no longer even gave each other the occasional mercy fuck.

He was a terrible father and an even worse roommate. After his unemployment ran out he had nothing to contribute to the household except for his presence. As shitty a human being as he was, having him around was better than being alone. I didn't even care that he went out every night to find other women to fuck.

The one thing I had left was my fantasy about how my life was supposed to have been. I still thought about Bobby occasionally and the life we planned to have. I often wondered what had become of the only man I had ever loved.

I didn't have much time to wonder though because my life was a busy one. I worked more than 60 hours a week, every week. I typically worked 12 hours a day from 6am to 6pm and then mercifully short 6 hour shifts on both Saturday and Sunday.

The thing I hated the most all of the time away from Joey. I didn't like leaving my impressionable son with Sam but I had no other choice. Usually as soon as I got in, Sam went out. By the time he came back in it was usually early in the morning the next day.

Our arguments had become more and more bitter over the years and with Joey in school I began to wonder why I needed Sam. He made it seem like he was the one sacrificing for us.

"If you want to make a real sacrifice, try getting a job and bringing some money in," I spat at him one evening.

I didn't see him for three days. With no childcare arrangements made before hand, I ended up missing two out of the three days at work. It was money that affected us greatly. On one hand we were barely making it as it was and on the other I got lucky. Things didn't go smoothly at work with my absence. That was one of my greatest fears. I was very sure that my boss would notice that they really could run the restaurant without me and reduce my hours.

When Sam wandered back in, I was so glad to see him that I didn't say a word. It was over a week before I was confident enough to bring it up.

"We need each other," he said. "Maybe I'm not bringing any money in, but I'm saving you much more than the beer money you give me. Imagine how bad things would go if I was gone for a week. And watching your kid is not as easy as you think it is."

I had priced daycare in our area. I had looked into both stand alone facilities and in-home care, but either would cost nearly half of my take home pay. I was stuck. And as time went on, it began to seem more and more likely that Sam would one day just walk out on us. I had begun drinking myself in the evenings when I got home.

It started out as just one drink to take the edge off and let me relax after Joey went to sleep. But lately I had been drinking myself to sleep. I always dreamed the same thing. I dreamed that Bobby would show up and we'd get back together. He would take one look at Joey and see the similarities between them. He'd kick Sam's ass and move us into his house that looked exactly like the one we had always dreamed of having.

After a few weeks he would tell me that he didn't want me busting my ass every day at McDonald's any more. And even more importantly he'd be busting my ass or at least my pussy every night in our bed.

That was my dream. And on some nights I could drink enough to make it seem real. Joey was six when it changed and a bright spot shone into the drudgery that I called life.

It was a Saturday and I was working as usual. Sam had the flu and it was really bad. I had done something that I hated doing but had done a couple of times. I had taken Joey to work with me. For most of the morning, he'd sat quietly in a booth beside the counter coloring and looking at his picture books.

At about eleven a.m. I took a phone call that really pissed me off. Someone in the restaurant had taken a party reservation that I knew nothing about. From time to time we had people who reserved a section of the restaurant for parties for their kids. I knew nothing about the party.

I checked our reservation book and saw that the party was listed there but that no one had put it on our calendar.

I recognized the handwriting immediately, but I asked the woman on the phone if she knew who had taken her reservation.

"He said his name was Alvin," she said. I got pissed. But in reality there was nothing I could do about it. Alvin was the owner's nephew. I called him at home and reminded him about the party.

"Mona, I can't do the party," he whined. "I have stuff to do today. Can't you do it for me?"

"No, Alvin, I can't," I told him. "Sam is at home sick and I brought Joey to work with me. You booked it. So you work it."

Ten minutes later, I got another phone call. It was my boss. "Mona, I got a call from Alvin. He explained the situation and I had to make a hard decision. I know Alvin is my nephew, but he's been trading on that for too long. I backed you up and told him that if he booked the party and didn't let anyone know or ask someone else to work it, he had to work it."

I was really happy. My boss really had stepped up for me. "Unfortunately," he continued. "You know what it's like working with twenty year olds. They don't share the work ethic that old dogs like us have ..." I was only twenty eight myself, I thought.

"Alvin has some kind of video game release thingy going on today and apparently it's more important than his job," he said. "He's going to stand in line outside of the Best Buy store in Madison Heights, waiting for the new Balls of Duty game to go on sale in a couple of days. He can't miss that so he quit."

I realized then that I was screwed. Alvin would probably be rehired in a week or two and if he ever took over the restaurant for his uncle he would fire me in a heartbeat. I knew what was coming next.

"Mona, you're going to have to stay and work the party," he said softly.

"I've got it," I said sadly.

I hated working parties for kids. Most of the parents, who could afford to reserve a section at a restaurant, spoiled the shit out of their kids. A reserved party was different from just a party. In a regular party, the kids just sat wherever there was seating available. The kids in the party might be at a table next to a bunch of old people. All the parents did was paid for the food. A reserved party was different. The parents basically rented a section of the restaurant. No one else could use that part of the restaurant.

This seemed to be a relatively large scale event. Our restaurant was one of the older ones with a built in play area. The play area had a ball pit and a huge slide. There were games and a lot of other things for kids to do. And naturally the party was supposed to start at one o' clock, an hour after I was supposed to be done working.

I hated the thought of making my son stay there even longer, just so I could cater to a bunch of spoiled, rich kids. Even worse was the fact that we had a couple of call-ins, so I wouldn't be able to pull anyone off of the line or the registers to help me with the party. I was on my own.

She pulled up at about twelve fifteen. The boy working the first register stopped talking in mid-sentence as she walked in. I had my back to him and it was his words and his actions that caused me to turn around.

She had just gotten out of her SUV and was walking towards the door. Both of her arms were full with a huge sheet cake.

I hadn't noticed her. But I heard Mark talking to a customer. "Welcome to Mc ...Holy Shit!" he said and then he slid over the counter to run and open the door for her, leaving the customer at the counter wondering what the hell had happened. As soon as he saw her, he went to help her too.

My first reaction was not a good one. As I looked at her incredibly long red hair and the clothes she was wearing, I knew that I was dealing with one of those entitled Bitches who thought her shit didn't smell unpleasant, like alone stink.

I tried to swallow some of my instant hatred for her under the guise of professionalism. She said, "Hi," to me and genuinely seemed to mean it. She had actually gotten to the restaurant early enough that I could make preparation for the cake and everything else before the guests got there. Usually the parents got there just as the party was supposed to start. She'd even brought her own name tags and place cards. She had also made a list of which foods every child attending wanted to eat. That saved me a lot of time because it meant that I could pre-order a lot of the food. She also asked me to cut the portion size of our orders in half.