Nothing to Offer

"And watch how you back in this time," Barbara demanded when they pulled up to their house. "We still need to get that..."

"Would have gotten it fixed if you hadn't given those fucking money grubbing cock suckers fifteen hundred dollars for a God damned day care center, huh?" Glen snapped at her. "I mean, really! Fifteen hundred dollars! For something we'll never get to use; Josette will be in first grade by the time they get around to build it. And they want me to donate the design for it too? Oh I don't fucking think so!"

"What? You are, right? I told them..." Barbara shrilled, horrified that her husband, the brilliant architect that she was always bragging about, would not donate just a little of his time and skill.

Did he not realize how much she enjoyed rubbing it in Constance Lassen's face that her husband was an architect while Connie's husband was just a taxi-cab driver?

Both girls had competed with each other, from kindergarten until now. Constance Wallenberg's father was a dermatologist and Barbara's father was an investment specialist.

Barbara had gotten married first; never mind the fact that she had believed that she was pregnant at the time. And her husband had been much better looking than Constance's husband. But then Constance managed to buy a three bedroom, two bathroom condominium in the Lambert Condominium Association, while she and Brian were stuck in a tiny house in a neighborhood that was deteriorating all around them.

Then Mother and Daddy had introduced her to Glen Peters, a slightly older, but well established architect. He was designing Daddy's newest venture, a Recycling plant, which tied in beautifully with King Disposal, another venture that Glen was designing as well.

Once again, Barbara smugly rubbed Constance's face in the fact that her older, more handsome husband bought her a two hundred thousand dollar home, a home, by the way, that he designed.

Constance and her husband, however, had donated two thousand five hundred dollars to the day-care facility. And with Constance being seven months pregnant with their third child, Constance would be using the new facility as soon as it was completed.

But Barbara would always be able to remind Constance that it was Barbara's husband that had donated the building's plans.

"Are you fucking stupid? You have got to be fucking stupid, there is just no other explanation why you would even think for on God damned minute that not only do we have to give them money. On top of what we already give them. We have to give them money AND I have to give them my work too?" glen said, getting out of the car, not bothering to get Josette out of the rear of the car.

"But, Glen..." Barbara shrilled, getting out of the car and slamming her door, also leaving Josette in the car.

"Barbara, I'll give them the 'Brother in Law' deal," Glen conceded. "All right? I'll design it for half price; best I can do."

"But I told them..." Barbara whined, crying real tears of frustration.

"Without talking to me first? Mistake number one right there, God damn it; we've been out of Dewar's for almost a month now; I asked you to pick up some next time you're at Early's, did you pick up any? Huh? So God damned busy worrying about all that other shit, " Glen barked, wanting to fix himself a drink.

Barbara decided to try to fuck Glen into giving the temple the plans. After they went to bed, she wiggled over and played with is cock. She even sucked his cock but it was pointless. Thanks to the alcohol in his system, Glen Peters simply could not get it up.

At three thirty that morning, after emptying her bladder, Barbara decided to go check on Josette.

Glen jerked awake when his wife's horrified screams burned through his consciousness.

The police were very quick to respond and conducted a thorough search of the house and grounds.

"Uh, we uh, we found her," Georgie Sanders, an attractive blonde officer said, the disapproval very evident on her face as she carried the fussing, crying three year old into the house from the garage.

Both parents were brought into the police station for questioning. Each was placed in a separate room and after two hours, were allowed to go home. They were told, however, that the incident would certainly be reported to Child Protection Services.

"Fucking great, Barbara. Just fucking great. Forget the kid in the God damned car," Glen muttered at Barbara, who for once, had nothing to say.

**..**

Brian Harris pulled out of his garage, to go to his store number one, the location next door to Manny's Mexican Restaurant. The location had been a good one for a just up and coming dry cleaning business, but over time it had become a great, almost perfect location for a dry cleaning business.

The Baggett Building, which was now in what had once been Baggett Mattress Factory, held eight businesses. T. Dayton's Hair Salon brought in their sheets, as well as their clients for service. Five of the other businesses housed in the building had staff that needed their suits and their dresses dry cleaned on a regular basis. Their clients also tended to frequent his establishment.

Brian looked across the street at the Haughton house and noticed a Toyota Highlander SUV as well as an older Nissan sub-compact.

"Well, at least the new tenants have decent cars," Brian thought, looked up and down Batio Street, then drove to work.

Store number two, in Baylor Lake had a good staff; they'd been with Brian almost five years now and both he and Sally had taken turns training them. Sophia Coutre's step-son, Oscar, had installed software that linked all three stores together so Brian could monitor their business and cash intake from any of the stores, as well as his home. But he also went into the location from time to time, to give one or two of his staff the day off. That's why he was at store number one today; Monica wanted the day off to take her daughter clothes shopping.

"Yeah, can you believe? Junie's going to college, huh?" Monica had said, almost breaking into tears.

"Good God, I'm too young to already be this old," Brian agreed with the short round woman. "I mean, wow, June was only how old when you started working here?"

"I know," Monica agreed.

When the assistant went across the street to the Chinese buffet place for lunch, Brian logged onto his favorite web site, but saw no new stories of 'Abby' or 'Gina' so decided to start on the 'Yuki' stories.

'Yukima' was a Japanese girl that had just moved from Japan to America and was trying to live the American dream.

The first job 'Yuki' acquired was as a maid for 'Mrs. Cuntz' who was an attractive red head in her thirties that had 'Yuki' running around in the traditional French Maid's uniform, sans panties. 'Mrs. Cuntz' seemed to favor thigh high leather boots, leather bustiers, and leather skirts along with very gaudy jewelry. Of course, 'Yuki' committed some infraction and had to be punished by 'Mrs. Cuntz' which involved 'Yuki' being stripped, suspended by her wrists from a heavy chain and whipped by 'Mrs. Cuntz.' Then, as the final phase involved 'Yuki' having to eat 'Mrs. Cuntz's' suspiciously dark brown beaver, it seemed 'Yuki's' hands had to be bound behind her back.

In the next story, 'Yuki' had to service the chauffeur, the gardener, and the butler, whom looked suspiciously like the three football players from the tales of 'Gretchen.'

"At least they learned how to take off their jerseys," Brian chuckled.

Then he noticed, the chauffeur kept on his cap, the gardener kept on his straw hat, and the butler kept his derby on while they fucked 'Yuki.'

"I'm back, Mr. Harris; man, I swear, you just can't beat that place!" Jimmy said as he returned. "I mean, six ninety nine, all you can eat, huh?"

Brian cleared out his search history and busied himself with actually working.

At five, he and Jimmy closed down the shop. Brian locked the door behind Jimmy, then did a quick check of the other two stores' receipts.

Then he drove home, not having anything better to do.

For a brief moment, while backing into his garage, he allowed himself to feel pity for himself. Thirty four years old, divorced, no girlfriend.

"Might as well be gay," he said as the garage door went down.

He detected movement across the street, but the door went the rest of the way down, blocking his view.

With a sigh, he made sure his cell phone was on, in case Jenny, the assistant at Store number 3 needed to get in touch with him.

Looking out his kitchen window, Brian frowned as a short, somewhat pudgy brunette was admiring his white picket fence and arched walkway and gate he'd constructed in his front yard. She squatted down to examine a flowering vine he'd entwined around the metal corner post and Brian's eyebrows went up; he was looking right at a brown thatch of pubic hair.

Too soon, she again stood up and then debated for a minute, even looked directly across the street at the Haughton house, then the girl undid the latch on his gate and walked up the walkway.

Brian wondered what the girl was selling. She couldn't be some religious nut-bag; they wouldn't wear skirts that short, and if they did, surely they'd wear panties underneath.

He let her ring the doorbell twice, even though he was standing right on the other side of the door, then opened it.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Oh my God, it is you!" the girl squealed happily. "Mr. Brian! Hi! It's me! Britney! Remember? We used to live right across from you and Miss Barbara?"

"Brit, oh my God! Look at you; oh my God is right, I don't believe, is Kathy, is your mother home?" Brian said and gave the girl a hug.

"She's right there; I saw your car, God, I can't believe you're still driving that

Car," Britney said, snuggling up tight to him, even as he attempted to release her.

"When did you get in? Come on in, you still love Yoo-Hoo? I remember that was your absolute..." Brian said, pulling the girl into the dark, cool living room.

"Yoo-Hoo?" Britney laughed. "Uh, yeah, like back when I was what? Nine?"

She looked around at the living room and shook her head.

"Wow, you haven't changed it one bit," she said. "In fact, I bet..."

She marched into the kitchen and again shook her head.

"Remember how you used to make me a tent?" she asked, lightly running a hand over one of the chair's backs.

"Yeah, real easy," Brian smiled. Put them about three feet apart and throw a blanket over them."

"I thought you were the coolest guy in the world," Britney smiled. "You'd put a couple of billows on the floor then make me a tent and even get in there with me."

When Barbara had thought she was pregnant, Brian had been ecstatic. Then when she found out she wasn't, she stringently demanded he wear condoms and had her doctor prescribe birth control pills for herself.

Brian kept hoping that babysitting for the mostly very well-behaved Britney would reawaken that maternal instinct. When it appeared that Britney was not able to perform that miracle, Brian took to caring for Britney as if she was the daughter he had wanted.

"Well, I can still do that," Brian chuckled and Britney again squeezed him in a tight hug.

"So, what you got to do?" Britney asked, looking up into his eyes.

"Huh? What you mean?" Brian asked.

"I mean, you fixing make dinner, you getting ready to go out on a date? What? You got to do?" Britney asked.

"Well, I was just going to fry up a couple of burgers; I got a box of them Bubba Burgers," Brian said.

"Oh, your girlfriend must be so impressed," Britney quipped sarcastically.

"No girlfriend," Brian admitted.

"Well, I hereby declare myself your new girlfriend," Britney said, snuggling up against him.

"What? Go away!" Brian laughed. "Britney! You're all of what? Sixteen?"

"Uh, excuse me, uh try nineteen," Britney corrected. "Almost twenty."

"Nine... Holy cow, I guess, wow," Brian said and again trying lightly to extricate himself from her embrace.

"So, there's the place, Clark's; that wasn't there when we moved, was it? That place any good?" Britney asked, swiveling slightly.

Brian was sure she didn't realize it, but she was rubbing directly against his cock, which was becoming painfully erect, trapped in his briefs and dress slacks.

"Huh, oh, Clark's? Yeah, yeah, it's pretty good, I mean, it's just burgers and stuff," Brian said.

"Come on, let's go," Britney demanded.

"Know what? Sure, what the hey," Brian agreed. "Let me just get out of these pants."

"Well, I didn't know it was a nudist drive in," Britney laughed, still not releasing her hold on him.

"It's not; I just want to put on some shorts," Brian smiled.

"Shorts? On a date?" Britney said, not pleased.

"Wait, who said this is a..." Brian protested.

"I did. I said I'm your new girlfriend," Britney said. Now, go put on some jeans. Shorts are for when you take me to Baylor Lake or Jazz Beach to go swimming."

Brian could use a number of excuses. He didn't want to hurt the former, and now new neighbor's feelings. He was just humoring a teenaged girl. All the blood had left his big head and was trapped in his little head.

Whatever the reason, Brian went to his room and put on a pair of jeans and pulled on a pull over shirt.

"See nothing's changed in here either," Britney called out from the second bedroom.

"It's perfect as is and you don't change perfection," Brian said.

"We'll change it," Britney said. "It's not perfect. It might have been perfect a hundred years ago but that was then and this is now."

"Wow, my new girlfriend is bossy, huh?" Brian teased.

If he thought that comment would embarrass her, or cause her to tone her demands down, he was wrong. Britney simply nodded her head and put a slightly chubby arm around his waist.

"Yes, I am, but I'll be worth it, I promise," she confirmed.

"Better be," he smiled and ushered her through the garage door.

"God, it even smells the same," Britney said, referring to the fact that Brian had always hung a Vanilla scented air freshener in his car.

In the ride to the diner, Britney let him know that Kathy had decided to return to Louisiana for two reasons. One, it held the memories of happier times, when Jim had been alive and healthy and two, the value of the lodge they'd bought in Colorado had more than quadrupled from the time they bought it. She would have been foolish not to sell it.

"Plus that, I couldn't wait to see you again," Britney boldly declared.

"Britney, supposed I would have had a girlfriend? Or suppose I had gotten married again?" Brian asked.

"Then I would just have to kill her," Britney said.

"Britney!" Brian said.

"What? I'm just kidding, ooh, you ever eat there?" Britney asked, seeing the sign for Side By Side Steakhouse.

"Seventy bucks a steak? No, and I'm not about to either," Brian said and turned toward Clark's Drive-In.

"We'll go there for our one month anniversary," Britney said.

"Mighty sure of yourself, huh?" Brian asked.

"Absolutely," Britney nodded and read the lighted menu. "Bet you a million dollars you can't eat a whole Goliath."."

"A million, huh?" Brian chuckled, having no intention of eating the monstrous burger.

"And large fries and large malt," Britney continued.

"You right, I don't even want to try to eat all that," Brian admitted and admired one brunette's large chest as the girl skated past, laden with trays.

"Hi, welcome to Clark's," a bubbly blonde chirped as she skidded to a stop.

"Know what you want?" Brian asked.

Three spaces over, Glen Peters and Faith Hightower sat, ravenously devouring their food. The cocaine normally dulled their appetite, but then they'd smoked two nice fat joints (Glen hoped the smell would fade away, or Barbara wouldn't know what that smell was.) After a very energetic fuck session, Faith had declared herself hungry and demanded that Glen take her to Clark's.

As if she had some kind of radar, as if Barbara Peters had some innate ability to tell that he was happy, having a good time, Barbara called Glen's cell phone.

"God damn, let the mother fucker go to voice mail, huh?" Faith mumbled around the mouthful of chili cheese fries.

"What?" Glen all but screamed into the telephone.

"Uh, what? What?" Barbara did scream. "Uh dinner's sitting right here, getting cold, that's what."

"Aw, shit, fine, fine, be home, shit, I got about at least another half hour, no, better give me about an hour," Glen lied as Faith used the opportunity to devour the last of the fries.

"Well, it'll be ruined by then," Barbara screamed. "Sure would have been nice if someone could just pick up the phone and let his wife know he would be a little late but..."

"Uh huh," Glen said and again played the theme song of Jeopardy in his head.

Finally, when Barbara took a breath to start on a new line of complaints, Glen saw his opportunity.

"Uh but the longer you keep me on the phone, the longer it's going to take me to finish all this up," Glen said. "So I'm hanging up. Now."

"Glen Peters, don't you dare!" Barbara threatened.

"God, she's a bitch, huh?" Faith asked and gave a final sucking slurp of her chocolate malt.

"Don't know the half of it," Glen muttered and stacked the remains onto the tray.

"Thanks; come again," the brunette with the large breasts cheerfully said as she grabbed the tray.

"Those are fake; they got to be," the flat chested Faith insisted as the girl skated away.

She then turned and looked at Glen.

"So, what you think Barbara's going to do when we tell her I'm knocked up?" Faith asked.

Glen almost threw up.

Barbara's mood had not softened one bit when Glen dragged his exhausted body and mind into the house nearly forty minutes later. She shrilly harangued him about the ruined dinner, about the bills which had yet to be paid, about the lack of income, and again, Glen simply tuned her out.

Barbara was right, the dinner was ruined. Despite the fact that he'd smoked another one of Faith's fat joints, Glen just simply could not stomach more than a few bites.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Barbara! Shut up!" Glen finally thundered. "Fuck! From the fucking minute I step in until the minute I leave, you scream non-stop! Do you ever just fucking shut up? Ever?"

"Fuck," Josette said.

That was all the fuel Barbara needed for another round of screaming. At least when she talked, she didn't need to use profanities. At least when she talked, she didn't teach her daughter vulgar words. At least when she talked...

Glen escaped to his office. A quick search of the local news didn't reveal much; the U.L.D. Storm was expected to win another football game against Norman's College, despite a local boy, Rodney Boudreaux being the wide receiver for the Norman College Bulls. The renovations and repairs to the St. Elizabeth's Public Library was scheduled to complete sooner than projected.

And then Glen saw that Whitehead and Associates had been awarded the contract to design the Courtyard Mall in Pinoaks, Louisiana.

He vomited heartily into the wastebasket. That mall was supposed to be his saving grace. With the money he could hope to garner from that, plus the adjoining amenities that were sure to spring up, he could have repaid Barney the Weasel Siegel, pay for Faith's abortion, pay the suddenly religious girl to keep quiet, plus even put a little aside.

Then Barbara was there, demanding to know what was wrong, did he think he had the flu, did he think she was going to clean that up, if he had the flu did he think he might have infected her or Josette?

**..**

Kathy Haughton greeted Brian with a tight embrace and a kiss directly to his lips, then pulled him into the house.

"Thank you so much for keeping an eye out for the place," she said sincerely. "Jim always said God put you across the street so that we could feel safe going to Colorado."