Paid to Seduce His Mother V. 02 Ch. 06

Meanwhile, she had moved in with her boyfriend, the intense young man who had accompanied her, a law student heading into his final year. While he had labored thru school, Sara had supported them in an apartment on the outskirts of New Haven for most of the past three years. It was often a tense situation since he had developed a rather dim view of the law enforcement system and frequently pointed out both its shortcomings and abuses to her.

Mike was friendly, listened closely, offered advice when he had something constructive to say, but otherwise was simply supportive. They found they had many similar interests in terms of music, books, movies and television. He introduced her to some new tastes, helping broaden her palate, and offered to teach her how to select wines to accompany a meal beyond the basic red/white division, understanding it would have to be an evening activity, when she was off duty.

Part LXIX

The day after Evie's service, when Sara came into the restaurant, she was obviously upset, but refused to discuss it. "I just came in to give you this," she said handing him a manilla envelope. "It's a copy of the forensic report on Evie's accident. You know how she died. This explains, as much as possible, why.

"Essentially, the inner tie rod on the driver's side failed, causing the back end of the truck, containing a ton of gravel, to swerve to the right, rotating around the dead wheel. The rear dual wheels impacted the car just in front of the driver's door.

"They estimate the speed at impact was between 50 and 55 miles per hour. From the time the tie rod failed until impact was less than a second. There was nothing anyone could have done once the tie rod failed. As for speed being a factor, if the driver had been doing the speed limit, everything else being equal, Evie would have had about a half second longer of life. The ME says he doubts if side air bags would have been successful in preventing her death, given the mechanics of the situation.

"There's no telling why the tie rod failed. Best guess is that a hairline crack escaped detection during manufacture and that it's been corroding since it was installed, but it's only a guess.

"It's also possible the weather and road conditions played a part. There's an expansion joint just a few feet from were the tie rod failed. With the weather being so warm, there would have been a significant bump over the joint. The force of the bounce might have caused the fracture. There is no way to definitely say."

Mike shook his head, staring blankly at the pages in his hand. "If she hadn't been rushing to get home... if she'd just taken a couple of extra minutes, to go to the bathroom or fix her make up or..." He started to choke up.

"Mike, are you okay?" Sara asked, taking hold of his arm.

He nodded and started to speak.

"Hello?" came an unfamiliar voice. "Is the owner here?"

Mike and Sara looked toward the front door, to see a young couple, the wife holding a baby. "I'm the manager," Mike said. "Can I help you? The owner won't be in until tomorrow."

"It's ...I ...we, that is..."

"Mike," Sara interrupted, "this is Will Crocker. He was driving the truck..."

"Yes, and I wanted to let the family know how sorry I am."

"Mr Crocker," Sara interrupted, "you shouldn't be here right now. You shouldn't be here at all."

"That's okay, Sara. I understand. Thank you, Mr Crocker. I'll tell Ms Masters you stopped by and what you said. I'm sure she'll appreciate it." He looked at the wife and baby. "Is this the baby you were hurrying to see?"

"Yes. Marisol Evelyn Crocker," the young driver said, his face somber.

"Evelyn, for..." Mike asked, and got a nod in answer.

"We...I wanted to honor her memory." the young man said.

"No, don't do that," Mike replied, forcefully. "Your little girl is going to have a difficult enough time growing up. Just her being there will always remind you of what happened.

"It was a tragic accident and shouldn't have happened, but its origins are located five or ten years ago, not something you did or didn't do. There's no need to further complicate your little girl's life by labeling her with a bad memory.

"Name her after her mother or grandmother, or a favorite aunt. Or call her Marisol Amelie Crocker, so all her friends can call her Mac."

The woman was rapidly nodding her head and looking at her husband. "I told you it wasn't a good idea. Now do you see?" she said, a slight Hispanic accent flavoring her words. She turned to Mike.

"Thank you. I like the idea of Mac, but I don't like Marisol. That was his grandmother's name. A neighbor has a little girl named Miguela. I like that, with Ariel. MiguelAriel Crocker." She bent down and kissed the baby's forehead and looked back at Mike. "You were her fiancé?"

"Yes."

"You are very wise, and very kind. Thank you," she said and reached up to kiss his cheek. "Come, husband. Your business here is done." She turned to walk to the door. Her husband looked at her, stunned, then turned with a questioning look to Mike, who simply shrugged and smiled. With a huge shrug and sigh, the young driver turned and followed his wife, shaking his head.

Sara looked at Mike, a quizzical expression on her face. After a brief moment, it turned to a smile. "It's nice to know not all the men in the world are assholes. If I come in around nine, you free to buy me a drink?"

"For you, Sara, I'll be free anytime." His smile was warm, satisfied.

"I'll see you later then. I need someone to talk at." She turned to exit through the kitchen. Before following her, Mike took a moment to watch her walk away.

"Hey, Sara, did I ever tell you how nice those uniform pants fit?" She turned scowling, which rapidly turned to a smile when she saw his grin.

"Maybe I was wrong about some men not being assholes," she said, trying to hide the smile, but her walk had a touch more sway and a little less swagger as she left the building.

Part LXX

That night, over drinks, she told him how, the week before Evie's service, her boyfriend had said he was going to visit his parents, without her, as usual. When they got home from the memorial, they had walked into the apartment and found a woman, a stranger to her, with her boyfriend's clothes, books, and CDs all packed up. He'd introduced the woman as his fiancé. They had been engaged for nearly five years, the woman claimed.

Mike had been sitting across the booth from her. He quickly moved to sit beside her and pulled her into his arms, to hold her as she softly wept into his chest. "The frikking bastard!" she cried, finally.

"And the sons of bitches at work aren't much better," she said, her sobs dying down."We have fifteen patrols on the road, some one man, most two, so there are a total of forty patrolmen. There are only five women, so they say they can't afford to give us a women only staff bathroom or locker room, and they're always walking in on us. Christ, you'd think they never saw a pussy before the way they gape at us. The alternative is to walk down to the lobby and use the public restroom. Not the most convenient solution at times.

"If I could find another job..." she went silent for a long pause. "Mike, I may be really screwing the pooch, jumping the gun here, because I know you're nowhere ready to even think about dating, let alone finding someone to take Evie's place in your life, but when you are ready, I'll be nearby, waiting."

Mike was silent for a long fifteen or twenty seconds. To the woman who had just bared her soul and heart, it seemed almost a year too long. She pushed herself away from Mike's chest. "Let me out please. I want to go home now."

"Why?"

"Why? I just threw myself at you and you didn't even acknowledge that I said anything at all. I obviously embarrassed myself and you. Now let me go."

"No, not yet." She started to try to push past him. "Goddam it, sit down and sit still!" he said firmly. "You said you were afraid you were jumping the gun. I don't know. How long do you mourn a fiancé? I don't have any fucking idea. I know my nerves are still so damn raw I...

"When that guy came in this noon, I wanted to rip his throat out and cram that fucking report down it. And I wanted to wrap my arms around the three of them and invite them to cry with me.

"Mostly, I wanted you to hold me when I did cry. I've wanted to hold you like I was just now for a long time, and I know Evie would understand and approve. She would say don't grieve, live on andlive. And I will, but I owe it to her, and to you, as well as myself to let the scabs dry and fall off the nerves which are still so raw.

"So, now I'll let you go, Sara, but don't go too far; I want to see that ass sometime without the uni pants," he said with a grin.

"You really are an asshole, aren't you?" she said with a smile and kissed him lightly on the mouth. Then she settled back on his chest, her free hand inside his shirt, feeling his heart beat, feeling secure.

Part LXXI

Wednesday and Thursday were Mike's days off, sort of. He was on call for questions, or emergencies. Bella was a good cook, without a lot of imagination, but she knew how to follow a recipe, and within a limited range, could make substitutions when necessary.

The Wednesday after Sara's declaration, Mike was home, lounging around the pool. Maggie had gone into the city for one of her multitude of committee meetings.

He heard a familiar car engine in front of the house, closely followed by a car door slamming. A few minutes later, his father appeared, walking around the garage. "Hey, Dad; Been awhile. How you doing?"

"I'm fine. How are you getting along? I'm really sorry about your girl friend, Mike. Had you two been engaged long? I don't remember ever meeting her."

"You did, but I'm not surprised you don't remember. It was about three years ago; I brought her to the company picnic. We had been dating all summer, 'n' she came up to school for a long weekend. It was only half serious at the time. When Mom and I got back from the cabin, we stopped in for dinner at her family's restaurant on the way home. We heard her yelling at her head cook because he was quitting at the beginning of their busy season with only a week's notice.

"Long story short, Mom volunteered my service as a fill in. I got lucky with a couple of dishes and generated their biggest weekend ever. Along the way, we had a couple of dates and found the magic was still there. Sunday morning we got engaged; Monday evening, she was gone."

"Fuck! Christ, if that had happened to me and your mother, I'd have gone fucking berserk and...probably have killed someone including the mother fucker who was driving the truck."

"Thought about it, but it wasn't his fault. Some lazy or inattentive inspector six or seven years ago. Or not even lazy–just dumb bad luck that tie rod wasn't selected for inspection, or it was such a small crack, they figured it didn't matter, or...sixty-nine other reasons it might have been skipped. The driver feels bad enough. He even wanted to name his baby after Evie."

"You met the son of a bitch? And he's still living? You're a better man than I would have been in your situation." He raised his hand, waving a large envelope.

"Well, is your Ma around? I'd like to discuss one of these settlements with her. Are you sure of your figures about the worth of the company?"

"Mom's at one of her committee meetings. The numbers are taken from the audit report which was just done, by the auditors you hired. They any good?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't me; it was your mother. She insisted we spend the money and get it done right, to avoid any problems. She was right, as usual. While you were away at school, we were hit with a random IRS audit. When they saw who our auditors were, it was a pro forma review, adding up the balance sheet." He stopped and looked at Mike, mentally chewing on something.

"You're a stockholder. What would you say about selling the business, lock, stock and barrel? We've had a nibble. ConFast is interested, and has offered 25M plus enough more to cover three quarters of our tax liabilities due to the sale; the extra deferred until next year to ease the tax burden a little more."

"Wow! Money to be divided along present ownership lines, I take it, or were you going to try to buy Mom's stock?"

"No, I think it would be easier if we just divided it along present ownership, like you said."

"And the remaining property..."

"Split, just like you said. Keep it easy."

"Excuse me if I sound cynical, Dad, but it's all too easy after everything. What're you hiding?"

Harry grinned. "Always said you'd turn out like me, even if you aren't from my balls. Yeah, there's more. They're offering me the job of VPSales/North East.

"As far as the settlement, I'll apologize to your Ma for my part in letting the marriage fail, if she acknowledges that she cheated first, and I want her to recognize my willingness to raise two kids, neither of which were mine." his voice began to grow hoarse as his anger began to rise. "I can see you know it. When did she tell you? How long have you known?" he demanded.

"When we went to the cabin this year, not even two months ago," Mike said, his voice flat. "How long have you known?"

Harry sat down on the chaise and looked at his son, as if judging him.

"Since before you were born. One of the reasons my first wife cheated on me was due to my inability to get her pregnant. The doc said my little swimmers were defective and tended to swim in circles. When Maggie told me she was pregnant and I was the father, I knew better, but I wasn't going to tell her no. Shit! It made my first wife's excuse worthless in town.

"And bigger shit, me walking around with the prettiest girl in town on my arm, wearing my rings and carrying my baby. I felt twelve feet tall. And when I introduced her to business men as my wife, I could see my stock go up in their eyes." Unconsciously, Harry straightened his back and sat up, his shoulders back, as if he were strutting while sitting still. He stayed that way for a few seconds, then slumped.

"The second time though, goddam, that hurt! Hell, I thought we were doing pretty good. Business was growing; we were having sex three or four times a week. I said it was for a second baby, but shit, I knew that wasn't about to happen. Then she went to Boston for that fucking photographer, and five weeks later she told me she thought she was pregnant. I couldn't tell her the truth, but I knew... she had gone up there to screw that bastard, and he infected her with something so she was sick for a fucking year.

"Well, I made sure she wouldn't cheat again; while she was pregnant, I told her I had a vasectomy. Then I found out, it didn't make any fucking difference, she couldn't get pregnant anyway." Flecks of saliva appeared at the corners of his mouth as Harry talked, the anger and hurt in his voice, palpable. When he was done, he hawked and spit . After a brief pause to collect himself and catch his breath, he went on.

"So, when she admits she cheated first, I'll apologize for screwing around. We both killed this fucking marriage." Harry stood up. "Wanna know something wild." he said, so softly Mike had to strain to hear him.

"If we could turn the time back to when Ellie was born, I'd still stay with her," he said, turning to face his son. "But I'd do it different. This time, I'd try to make it work. I'd try to get her to love me. I did love her; still do. I was just so goddam fucking mad... and couldn't let it go.

"You're a better man than me, son." He turned and left Mike there alone.

Part LXXII

"He wants to sell? For 25M? Plus enough to cover most of the taxes. Hmmm. Did he say who he wanted to call him with our decision?"

"No, and there was more, Mom, about his apology. He said he would, if..."

"If what? What possible condition could he ask for if he's going to sell his company?"

"Uhh, he wants you to acknowledge you cheated first, and give him credit for raising two kids who weren't his." Mike winced, expecting an explosion from his mother.

Instead, in a soft voice, Maggie asked, "You didn't tell him anything, did you, Mike?"

"Only that you had told me, after he said he wanted you to acknowledge..."

"He knew, and he never said a word. Never made an accusation. And treated you and Ellie just like you were his own. I can't believe that man. He can be such a bastard, and then you learn something like this about him. Did he say anything about why he didn't..."

"He said one of the reasons his first wife cheated was his inability to get her pregnant. Then the prettiest woman in town announces she's pregnant with his baby. He said all of a sudden he felt twelve feet tall. And when you got pregnant with Ellie, he said it hurt, but it was just more proof his first wife was lying when she said he wasn't man enough to give her a baby.

"He also said if he could go back in time to when Ellie was born, he'd be different; that he'd try to make you love him, like he loved you."

Maggie looked up at her son, her cheeks wet with tears. "That son of a bitch," she said, grinning. "I could have; I could have forgiven him for cheating while I was sick, and for expecting too much of me." She sighed. "Coulda, woulda, shoulda. It's all water under the bridge, and it's too late to repair the marriage, but maybe we can have an amicable divorce so we don't do battle every time we meet." She stood up. "I'll call him later. First, you, Anna and I have to have a talk."

Part LXXIII

Sara parked the patrol car and hurried inside the station, headed straight for the unisex bathroom provided for the police officers. Her bladder was screaming for release, and she hoped one of the three stalls was available. She was lucky; just as she walked in, one of the other policewomen came out of the first stall. They passed each other with the smile one has for those who share a needless inconvenience.

Sara had just released her stream when she heard the door to the restroom open. A few seconds later, she saw a man's feet stop in front of her stall, and the door begin to open. "This one's taken," she said, expecting the guy to move on. Instead, the door continued to move.

"That you, Sara?" came a voice which made her cringe, Patrolman Sam "Dick" Richards.

"Shut the door and move on, Dick," she said, her voice firm.

"Aww, Sara, don't be that way. Hey, I heard your pansy boyfriend moved out on you to live with his fiancé. Is that right? You ready for a real man yet?"

"Dick, close the fucking door and leave me alone!" she all but hollered.

"Don't be like that, Sara. Just open your legs and I can piss between them." She watched, unbelieving as he unzipped his trousers and pulled his flaccid dick out.

"Jesus Christ, Dick, put that goddam thing back in your pants." She laughed. "Well, you answered one question for me today. I always wondered if you were called Dick because of your name, or if it was because you had a big one."

Her tormentor's face turned dark red, and his expression quickly turned to anger. "Bitch, I'll show you a big one! Here, just suck on this a second and choke yourself," he said grabbing her head and pulling it toward his crotch.

Sara pulled away from his grip, and warned him, "You try to shove that in my mouth again and I guarantee when you get it back, it'll be three inches shorter!"

Luckily, inside the stall, he didn't have room to develop a full swing, but he got enough momentum, and hit her high enough on the cheekbone to blacken her eye and daze her slightly, just enough to allow him to force his cock between her lips.

His scream brought most of the officers in the duty area running into the bathroom. The first ones in found the older patrolman curled up in a fetal position, his hands shoved down between his thighs, moaning on the floor in front of the first stall. Inside the stall, Sara had just finished straightening her clothes.