The Curse of the Scots Ch. 02

Grandma looked out at the truck, "Got a girlfriend Cayden?"

"No," I answered, "she's just someone I picked up, been helping her out a little lately."

Grandma looked back. I could see she was checking the time on the wall clock over the mantle. After another glance toward the truck and Caprice she looked back at me, "Why don't you and the lady come inside for a minute or two? Angie won't be back with Emily for at least a couple hours. I'd like to meet the girl with you. Plus we could talk about my concerns about Angie."

The old woman had me. She knew I'd want to hear anything she had to say about the girls, but if I let Caprice come in she'd find out about the whore, and worse, Caprice might find things out about me I'd rather she never knew. But what difference did it make if Caprice found out about my kid and ex-wife; she probably wasn't going to be around long enough for it to matter. For that matter what did I care if grandma learned about the whore? I answered, "Sure. Put on some coffee while I get my friend."

Grandma went back to start the coffee while I went out to the truck. Back at the truck I warned the whore, "The old woman's invited us in. Don't say more than you have to."

I could see right away the whore, that was to say Caprice, was a little surprised that me, 'Farmer John' was going to let her meet someone other than the hired help. I bet she thought I was stupider than she'd originally thought. Anyway she answered, "I'd like that."

I opened the truck door for her and helped her out. I watched her reaction. I think she kind of liked being treated liked she was something besides somebody's pig. That interested me; it was second nature to me, but for her it must have been unusual. I hoped she understood this gentlemanly behavior wasn't planned. I wasn't trying to make her feel grateful. I just did shit, nice shit. I'm sure I was a total fool to her.

I walked Caprice up to the front door, and held it for her so she could go in first. I knew by the way she acted she wasn't used to being treated like a lady. Though it was stuff all men were supposed to do, it made me feel good doing it for somebody who probably didn't think they deserved it. The way I see it all women are entitled to a little courtesy. I hadn't always felt that way, but I'd been trying to change. Honestly, I wanted her to feel like she deserved it. Oh know it's stupid but the Liza Doolittle thing had its appeal.

I led her to the kitchen where grandma had already set out three coffee cups, three plates and some spoons and forks, and she'd brought out an apple pie.

Grandma started pouring the coffee, "I baked a pie for Emily. It's apple, her favorite. I don't think she'll mind if we snitch a piece or two before she gets home." She looked at Caprice, "If you don't like coffee I have some homemade lemonade."

Caprice answered, "Coffee's fine."

I'd had about enough of the family thing so I asked, "Tell me Mrs. Bradford, Bradford was Angie's maiden name and her mom's name. I seldom used it preferring to stay with Angie's old married name though her dad had forced Angie to drop it when he made her get the divorce, "what's bothering you about Angie that I don't already know about?"

Mrs. Bradford spooned some sugar in her coffee and stirred it, "You know she's still with that Bernard Keith."

I only nodded. I watched Caprice out of the corner of my eye. I swear she must have been a secretary or something in her pre-whore life. She was hanging on every word.

Grandma went on, "He's been buying cocaine. As far as I know Angie hasn't started yet, but I'm sure Bernard's got something up his sleeve, and I mean more than just getting her high."

I listened, but I didn't think I could do anything about it. So far Angie was still happy with Jim Beam, but I knew if she got hooked up with cocaine she'd be in some deep shit, "Shit, if Bernard gets her on that stuff he'll be renting her stupid little ass to every Tom, Dick and Harry from here to Milford, but I don't think there's anything I can do about it."

Grandma gave me 'the look', "You sell yourself short. She won't listen to you, but the police will."

"You want me to have her arrested?"

"If you have to," Grandma digressed, "What's the one thing Angie cares about. It's Emily. If she thought she could lose Emily because of her behavior; you might be able to save her from herself, and you'd be helping your daughter."

I listened to Mrs. Bradford but watched Caprice. She was finding out too much too fast.

Caprice interjected, "I didn't know you had a daughter."

Grandma gave Caprice an incredulous look, then she looked at me, "She doesn't know?"

I had no choice, "You might as well tell her."

Mrs. Bradford took a bite of pie, stirred her coffee and started, "Cayden here married my daughter right out of high school. She was a total innocent."

The old woman looked at Cayden with poorly disguised anger, "He ruined her; got her into alcohol, loose sex, you name it. He turned her into a little whore; actually a whore without the money. Then he ran off and left her, brought her back for her father to abuse and humiliate while he ran off and joined the army. While he was gone she had his baby," she pointed to a picture on the wall, "that's her, name's Emily. She's the one thing the two of them did right."

She looked back at me, "I guess the asshole thought she'd welcome him back with open arms when he got home, but not Angie. Oh she still loved him, as a matter of fact she still does, but the anger and hate runs pretty deep. She won't let him near his daughter, even denies she's his. Now she's back and forth between me and this bum Bernard. She'll move in with Bernard till he gets drunk and beats her, then she moves back here till she recovers. She's stupid though; I think Social Services is on to her. Of course Cayden pays for everything. I know Angie only does what she does get at our boy here." She pointed at me.

Caprice put her fingers to her lips. She voiced the one thing all three of us noticed, "Emily looks a lot like a younger and prettier me."

I bristled, "She's not like you. She's nothing like you."

Mrs. Bradford realized my relationship with the new woman wasn't all she thought it was. There was something else going on, and it wasn't healthy. She decided to ignore it. Her interests were her daughter, granddaughter, and what I could do to help them. She looked sharply at me, "Cayden you could get people to put pressure on her, get her away from Bernard, maybe get her in some kind of program. You could find her a job. I mean a job where she wouldn't be around the people she's with now."

Caprice knew she looked just like her. Even I saw the resemblance between her and the little girl in the picture. Jesus, she'd only been around me a handful of days; I bet she was wondering if I hadn't conjured some kind of fantasy that put her in as a substitute for a girl this woman said I couldn't get near? If she thought this was even remotely true she would think it was like a gift from heaven. All she had to do was suck up just a little, just pretend to be my make believe girl, and she might be able to walk away with a fortune. Most men lived in foolish fairy tale fantasies anyway; damn this one would be handing her one that was made to order!

Caprice pretended to be contrite, "I'm sorry I didn't mean that innocent little girl was anything like me: I was just thinking out loud." She tried to look sincere but I could tell she didn't think it was working. She went on, "You might want to listen to Mrs. Bradford though. If this woman; Angie? If she gets into cocaine, it'll be a lot harder on everybody."

I shifted in my chair. What she said made me uncomfortable. I know I must have involuntarily grimaced, "You would know about that?"

Her reply went right to my stomach, "Yes I would."

I looked at Angie's mom, "Thanks for the pie and coffee, I stood up and reached for the whore, "We'll be going," I smiled at Mrs. Bradford, but it wasn't an honest smile, "I'll think about what you said." I gently pulled Caprice to her feet, "Come on."

Caprice rose from her chair, "Thanks for pie and coffee Mrs. Bradford, hope to see you again sometime."

++++++++++

I take Caprice shopping. How stupid is that?

I drove down to the coastal highway. It wasn't because I was feeling particularly generous, but I'd noticed Caprice didn't have a single piece of jewelry, not even a wrist watch. Caprice sat beside me in the cab without saying anything. I was glad of it. I was angry with myself for taking her out, and then even angrier for letting her come inside after Angie's mom offered.

Finally Caprice had to remark something, "This doesn't look like the way we came."

I kept my eyes on the road, "No, it's not."

She replied, "What, this is when you get rid of me?"

I did look over then, "No, but if you want to leave you can."

"I'm OK," she said.

"Well if you're not leaving we have to get you some things. I can't go to church myself and leave you tied to the bed now can I," I thought I probably could but it would sort of run counter to the whole Easter theme. "This is Easter Week. There's church this Thursday night and then Easter Sunday. You'll need an Easter dress, and you don't have a bit of jewelry."

The whore quietly murmured, "That's right, Maundy Thursday."

I asked, "You know about that?"

I saw Caprice was surprised; she'd stunned herself, I bet it had been years since she'd thought of any of that. She started running her mouth. Wow! All kinds of shit came flooding out.

"The Last Supper, the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter with the sword, Judas's betrayal; everybody knows all that."

The whore was starting to get on my nerves in ways I hadn't expected. This was no ordinary old prostitute; somewhere she'd been trained, once she'd had a home life, "Caprice; that's a whore's name. What's your real name?"

She stared out the windshield, "I don't remember, Honestly, I've been called Caprice so long..."

"Forget it," We'd reached the Gold Coast Mall and found a place to park, "There's a nice boutique in here. It's where I bought the other things. It's called Sherry's. You go ahead and pick what you want for Easter. Don't forget you'll need shoes, stockings, a purse, you know all the other stuff."

She eyed me suspiciously, "How much can I spend."

I shrugged, "Just get what you want. Have the people box it up, and I'll pay for it when I get there."

"You don't want to look at it first?"

I thought about it a second, "Maybe you should get two outfits; one for Thursday and another for Sunday. As for me seeing what you buy; we'll go to church together. I'll see what you bought then."

Caught a little off guard the whore asked, "Where will you be?"

"I'm going to Kay's. I told you, you need jewelry."

I could see she didn't know what to think. I bet she'd been with lots of Johns. I hoped none acted like me. I'm sure that wasn't true. I bet there'd been old men when she was young who would buy her jewelry, but I sort of thought they probably always made a big show of it. Of course they'd always expected a pay back. Not me! Oh, I had a pay back in mind, but not what she was thinking. I was just going to go get some things and bring it all back like I was buying a dozen eggs. It occurred to me, maybe I was just a little fucked up when it came to her. Why would that be? She was just an old whore. Well she wasn't that old. Sure she looked a little like Emily, but other than that she meant nothing to me.

She answered me, "OK, I'll be at the boutique you mentioned.

Leaving her at the entrance to the mall I half expected she'd just disappear. I walked on down to the jeweler's. Whatever I bought wouldn't matter. If she ran away I could take it back, if she didn't then she'd have something to wear.

I went into Kay's and was greeted almost immediately by a nice middle aged lady, dark hair, glasses, she's was a little overweight but her appearance was generally pleasant. I didn't haggle. I got a pair of Garnet earrings and a necklace to match. I also picked up a set of small hooped earrings and a simple gold necklace with a Sand-dollar pennant. I didn't recall exactly what the Sand-dollar was supposed to mean, but I knew it had something to do with Christ. I thought I'd find out just how much more the whore might know. I also bought her an inexpensive wristwatch; just a small gold thing with a leather band, more functional than decorative. I skirted around the edges of the counter and spied an attractive pearl ring. I guessed at her ring size and bought that too. To tell the truth I'd never bought any woman jewelry before; I didn't know what I was doing.

I thought of Angie. I should have bought her some shit back when we were married. I knew why I never did. I was different then.

None of the stuff was too costly, but I thought it all looked pretty good, and the way my life had been going I'd probably never buy any woman jewelry again anyway.

When I got to the boutique I was surprised Caprice hadn't run away. She was seated in one of those overstuffed cushion chairs they had at those kinds of places. She had a couple bags filled with boxes at her feet. As soon as I got there a saleswoman appeared and handed me the bill. Considering what I told he to get the bill looked pretty low. I paid it, picked up her bags; I stuffed the bag I had in one of hers and started out of the store. I stopped for a second and tried as politely as I could to say something, "I'm sorry my hands are full. I won't be able to take your arm," was I surprised when she laughed and slipped her arm through one of mine. I half believe her laugh was sincere, but it's hard to tell with whores.

We left the mall and I asked her if she was hungry. She said she was so I suggested a seafood restaurant. She said she'd heard of it but had never been there. So I took her to Phillip's. It probably has the best seafood in the region.

When we got to the restaurant she asked me about Angie and my daughter. I figured she knew most of the story anyway, so I filled her in one everything else. She didn't say much, but she listened attentively. I had to question what I was doing. I knew she was a whore, a cheap one at that, and she'd certainly acted the part at first. But now she seemed different. I wondered if she had really started to feel differently, or if it was all an act just to suck me in. Either way I wasn't too worried. She hadn't gotten anything yet.

After we ate we drove back to the farm. Caprice asked me if I'd like to see what she's bought. I told her it didn't matter. I saw she looked a little disappointed that I didn't want to see the clothes she'd bought so I changed my mind and told her to go ahead. She told me she wanted to put them on and model them for me. I agreed, but I think I mostly felt like she was just trying to figure out a way to seduce me. One thing was certain; until she was tested for STDs I wasn't touching her, and since this was Wednesday and tomorrow Maundy Thursday, the doctor wouldn't be seeing her until after Easter.

Caprice went in the big bedroom to slip on her first outfit. While she did that I slipped into the kitchen and poured myself and her two big lemon iced teas. I went back in the living room and sat down on the sofa.

I didn't have to wait long. She came out dressed in what she said she'd like to wear on Maundy Thursday. Honestly, I was overwhelmed. It was a salmon colored skirt and jacket set with a beautiful white blouse and matching low heeled salmon colored shoes. She was beautiful. She was more than beautiful she looked pure and innocent.

"I haven't decided yet how I should fix my hair, she said. "Do you have any suggestions?"

I just stood there, utterly and totally flabbergasted, "No...I...uh..."

"You think maybe a pony tail? It's short, but there's still enough to get a little one."

"Uh...yeah...sure," finally I got something out, "Jesus Caprice you're beautiful!"

She smiled a little forlornly, "Not too bad for an old whore I guess."

I didn't know what to say. I knew she was a whore, nobody knew better than I did, but the look just didn't fit the woman I'd bought. For some reason I wanted to say something to please her, "I have an idea Caprice. From now until after Easter let's pretend you're just a regular girl. No more whore talk, no more thinking about how you're going to steal my shirt, and me not worrying about when you'll be on the Internet e-mailing that guy Vince to come and get you."

I watched her as she got real serious. She said some things I wasn't sure I could believe, "I hadn't thought about contacting Vince. Actually he's the last person I want to talk to. I'm flattered you'd want to treat me in a regular way. I mean I haven't done anything to deserve it. You're being nice to me and I don't know why. I know what I am, but I can pretend if you will. Yes, I'd like that, what you said. I'll pretend to be someone who you met in the army, and I've come to see you. How does that sound?"

I smiled, "That's great. But you're going to need a last name."

"How about Fischer? I can be Caprice Fischer."

I looked her over; Fischer, sounded like a good name, "Ok, until after Easter you're an old friend I met from back in the army, and your name is Caprice Fischer."

Caprice smiled and did another one of her pirouettes, "Wait here and I'll come back with my Easter dress on."

I stopped her, "No you don't Ms. Fischer. I have a few things for you first. Now you wait a minute!" I dashed into the bedroom, grabbed the jewelry bags, and rushed back out. I felt like a school boy and I didn't know why. I got out the watch first, Hold out your wrist."

Caprice held out her arm.

I opened the watch box, got it out, and fastened it on her wrist, "What do you think?"

Caprice turned her wrist this way and that, "This is really very nice Cayden. I'm trying to remember the last time a man had bought me anything without expecting to be fucked or sucked off in return. I can't remember. Thank you, I'll take care of it and give it back right after Easter."

"No," I said, "that's yours."

I could tell she knew it wasn't especially expensive, but somehow I didn't think she cared about the price, she said softly, "Thank you Cayden."

"Wait a minute, I've got something else you can wear Thursday night," I got out the delicate hooped earrings, "I saw you have pierced ears. I thought these might look nice."

I watched her as she took the hooped earrings and slipped them through the bottom piercing in each ear. She looked in the mirror, "They're nice Cayden."

I grinned. I felt foolish, "I have something else," I got out the necklace with the Sand-dollar pendant, "Can I put it on you?"

Caprice turned her back and waited.

I was clumsy but I finally slipped the necklace around her neck, but only after several unsuccessful attempts, "There, what do you think?"

Caprice looked in the mirror at the necklace and then the pendant. She touched the Sand-Dollar with her finger tips, and out of nowhere quietly murmured,

"There's a lovely little legend, that I would like to tell, of the birth and death of Jesus, found in this lowly shell. If you examine closely, you'll see that you find here, four nail holes and a fifth one, made by a Roman's spear. On one side the Easter lily, its center is the star that appeared unto the shepherds and led them from afar. The Christmas Poinsettia etched on the other side, reminds us of His birthday, our happy Christmastide. Now break the center open, and here you will release, the five white doves awaiting, to spread Good Will and Peace. This simple little symbol, Christ left for you and me, to help us spread His Gospel, through all Eternity."

I listened; brother was I spellbound, "That's the legend of the Sand-Dollar."