Chapter 1

Someone is finally moving in next door. We hope it's going to be a decent couple for a change. Someone around our age would be nice. The last couple of tenants left a lot to be desired. We were very happy and more than a little relieved when the last guy moved out almost six months ago. He was a pig in so many ways.

He was an excellent example of the worst kind of biker. He came and went at all hours of the day and night on his extremely loud motorcycle. It wasn't just him, either. He was forever having loud parties and his driveway, his yard and the street out front would be full of those big, obnoxiously loud motorcycles that hurt your ears if you're outside when they ride past the house.

Whenever those animals were around I was afraid to go outside. They would whistle at me or make crude remarks. I was scared to death of them. My husband was, too. He tried not to show it. But I could tell.

I couldn't blame him. Even the women that hung around next door looked quite capable of beating up my husband. And they seemed more than willing to prove it.

After one of their all too frequent parties we usually had to spend an hour picking up cans and bottles from our yard. They would toss their empties over into our yard all night long as if they were daring us to say something to them about it.

Of course we didn't dare.

And in all the months he lived next door to us I doubt if he cut his grass more than two or three times. To say that we were very relieved when he moved out really doesn't fully convey how momentous that day was for us.

The problem for the landlord was that the biker and his friends tore the house up so bad it took them months to get it ready to rent again. We were inconvenienced again because during all that time we had to call the realtor on a daily basis for weeks before they would send someone out to cut the grass. A couple of times Jimmie just gave up and cut the grass next door himself.

I guess it goes without saying that we don't live in a very nice neighborhood. Jimmy and I were married right after graduating from high school almost two years ago. He had a good job all lined up. There weren't many jobs in our town. But he found something in the next town and we were so happy to finally be living together as man and wife.

We rented a nice apartment with some of the money we saved up while we were still in school. Well, to be honest they were his savings. I was lucky if I was able to afford an occasional meal before we married.

We didn't get a honeymoon. Jimmie went to work a week after we graduated. But it didn't matter. We were just happy to be together.

Jimmy didn't want me to work. He's pretty old fashioned that way. He's pretty old fashioned in a lot of ways. I don't have any burning desire to go to work. But I thought, at least in the beginning when we're struggling to get on our feet, I should get some kind of job just to help with the finances.

Jimmie wouldn't hear of it. When I tried to argue that we could really use the money he quoted his preacher and the bible about a woman's place. I don't buy into all that religious crap. But to please Jimmie I stayed home like a good wife and cooked and cleaned house.

Jimmie is very religious. As far as he's concerned the bible is the final word on everything. I wouldn't want Jimmie to know it. But I'm really just going along for his sake. I don't know if I've ever really given it a lot of thought. But to be honest, I can't ever remember a time when I believed in god.

It didn't take long for things to start going wrong in our life. Jimmie got fired after only four months at his new job for bringing things home from work. He insisted that they were just things that were going to be thrown out and that everyone does it. But his boss fired him for theft.

Jimmie insisted that it was a vendetta by his boss because he thought Jimmie was after his job. I believed him at first. You want to believe your husband wouldn't steal anything.

But when I found out what it was they said he was stealing I had to wonder. It was just some office supplies. I don't believe they were worth a lot of money. But they were all new and still in the box. I think Jimmie was too embarrassed to admit to me that he was stealing and that he lost his job over less than twenty dollars worth of office supplies that we don't even need.

We didn't have much money saved up. So it was only a few weeks before he came home from another fruitless day spent job hunting and told me that we're going to have to move. He's having trouble finding a new job and we can no longer afford the rent on our apartment.

I was more than a little upset. I kind of liked the apartments we lived in. I had made a couple of friends there and we had access to a nice pool. Another big plus was that we lived near the center of town so I could walk to the store. That's handy since we only have the one old car, the same one that Jimmie drove in high school.

We tried to think of some other solution to our problems, some way to come up with a little extra money to tide us over. Jimmie still stubbornly insisted that I stay home. We had more than a few arguments over that.

We have no relatives that we can borrow from. My only living relative is my mother. She's living in a nursing home suffering from early onset Alzheimer's disease. The nursing home quickly consumed what little savings she had a long time ago. Now the Government is paying to keep her in the home.

Jimmie's mother ran off a long time ago. His father spends more time in jail than out and we are careful to assure that he doesn't find out where we are. We're on our own and we know it. That's why we're both starting to feel pretty desperate. It looks like it won't be long before we're living in our car.

Our situation was looking pretty hopeless by the time we saw someone moving in next door. Jimmie looked out the window one Sunday afternoon and saw our new neighbor struggling to move a sofa all by himself. He went over to give him a hand and find out a little about him.

He came back an hour later and informed me that he had invited our new neighbor to join us for dinner. It's a good thing we were having meatloaf that evening. But then, by that time most of our meals consisted of soup, meatloaf or spaghetti.

Jimmie told me what little he was able to learn about our new neighbor. He's an older guy in his mid forties. He's in the middle of a divorce. That's why he's moving into our rundown area of town. He's still paying for his soon to be ex wife to live in their home. He isn't well off or anything. But he owns a franchise for one of those quickie oil change and lube shops and he's probably doing better than anyone else on this rundown street lined with tiny old houses that are nearly all in need of new roofs, fresh paint and landscaping.

Our new neighbor returned the pickup truck he borrowed to move his furniture and went home and cleaned up before coming over for supper. He brought a twelve pack of beer and a bottle of wine with him.

I was introduced to Gary. He's a pretty big guy. He probably stands about six foot two and I bet he weighs two fifty. He has a good start on a beer belly. But if he were to work that off he wouldn't be bad looking. He has a thick head of black hair and a nice enough smile, except that his smile doesn't seem to reach his eyes. When I look into his eyes I get the impression I'm seeing the same smile he uses when he's smiling politely at a customer he doesn't think much of.

Or at least that's the way he looked at Jimmie. He flat out leered at me and he didn't care who knew it! He made me very uncomfortable.

He hardly spoke all evening. Jimmie embarrassed me by trying to fill the conversational void, prattling on inanely. He sounded to me like a little boy trying to impress an adult. When our new neighbor did speak it was usually to make an off color remark to me. To listen to him you'd think he was trying to pick up a girl in a bar somewhere! He ignored the fact that my husband was in the room listening to every word!

He drank half a dozen beers over the course of the evening. But the alcohol wasn't responsible for his rude behavior. He started talking to me that way as soon as we were introduced.

I drank two small glasses of wine. I'm still only nineteen and I have almost no experience with alcohol. So I'm probably more susceptible to its effects than a lot of people. But even the soothing effects of the wine didn't make our new neighbor's rude behavior any easier to ignore.

Jimmie helped Gary drink the beer he brought and rattled on like an idiot all evening. He must have been very nervous. I've never seen him behave like that before. I was embarrassed for him. He sucked up to our new neighbor so hard it made me sick.

I guess he got what he wanted out of it, though. Before he left, Gary invited Jimmie to come to his shop in the morning to fill out a job application.

I thought Jimmie was excited all out of proportion to what just happened. In the first place, the job only pays minimum wage. Granted, that beats the hell out of no income at all and living on food stamps. And I guess it will do his ego a lot of good to finally be employed again. But a minimum wage job doesn't provide enough money to get us out of this awful neighborhood.

I can foresee another problem that's bound to arise if Jimmie takes that job. Even I have a higher mechanical aptitude than Jimmie. Jimmie is good with words. He's intelligent and it has always been our hope that we could reach a point where we could afford for him to start taking college courses at the local community college in the evening.

But when it comes to things mechanical, Jimmie has a learning disability. He's only just able to change a light bulb. I fear that if Jimmie does get hired his new job won't last very long.

I kept my doubts to myself, though. Instead I asked, "Did you see the way he looked at me all evening?! And those crude comments! That guy really gives me the creeps!"

Jimmie just shrugged it off. "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, Kendra. Hell, you can't blame him for looking. You know you're hot! Guys look at you all the time. We've been married for almost two years and I still can't take my eyes off of you!"

That was what he said. It wasn't what he was thinking. He couldn't meet my eyes when he said it. He's well aware that Gary behaved inappropriately this evening. But he's so desperate for a job that it didn't matter.

I just shrugged and left it at that. The uncomfortable evening is over now. There's no sense fighting about it. I finished cleaning up the kitchen and we went to bed.

We got up early the next morning. The only breakfast food in the house is cold cereal. We can't even afford coffee anymore. I sat with him while he ate a bowl of cereal before going to see Gary about the job.

He called me an hour later and proudly announced that he has the job and is starting immediately. I thought he sounded a lot more excited than that piddling minimum wage flunky job warranted but I didn't say anything. He's having enough problems maintaining his self esteem and I guess he has to start somewhere. Having recently been fired for stealing he has a hell of a black mark on his record to overcome. He told me he'd be home at six thirty this evening. He also said that Gary is going to buy some steaks and join us for dinner again so that we can celebrate. He said that like it's a good thing. I wasn't convinced. I have no desire to spend another evening with Gary.

I want to be happy for Jimmie. But I still have the same misgivings. And I'm definitely unhappy about Gary spending another evening in our home leering at me and making off color jokes. I promised myself to do what I have to do, just like Jimmie is. But I can't help being concerned about having to entertain his boss, even if we do get a couple of steaks out of it. I know Jimmie won't say anything to Gary about his behavior. What's worse, I know that I don't have the nerve to say anything to him, either. I'm much too meek to defend myself from his crude comments and blatant leering.

I was looking out our living room window at six thirty when Gary got home. He glanced in my direction but then disappeared into his house. He got cleaned up and changed and came to my front door carrying a bag of charcoal and another twelve pack of beer. I wasn't happy to see him. Jimmie still isn't home.

He stared at my breasts when I answered the door as if daring me to say something to him. A long, uncomfortable minute passed before he said, "I gave Jimmie some money to pick up some steaks and a few other things on the way home. I need to get into your backyard and get the charcoal going.

I was more than a little uncomfortable being alone with this crude man. But I could think of no reason to refuse him. I stepped back like a timid little girl to let him in.

He handed the beer to me and told me to put it in the refrigerator. He told me to get one out for him and bring it to him out back. He talked to me as if I work for him! He didn't ask me, he ordered me!

And I meekly followed his instructions!

I brought his beer out onto the small cement pad behind our house that the realtor called a patio. He ordered me to hold his beer for him while he finished getting the charcoal going. While he was spreading the charcoal out and getting it lit he said, "Don't tell your husband I said so. I don't want to discourage him. But he's just about as worthless as tits on a bull around the shop. I hope he was just having first day jitters. He ain't too bright is he?"

I tried to explain that Jimmie is bright, he's very bright. He just isn't used to doing mechanical things. I was still arguing his case when Jimmie stuck his head out and said, "Everything is on the kitchen counter. I'm going to take a shower."

Gary ignored him. I told him to hurry. I was very nervous about being left alone with my husband's crude boss.

As soon as Gary lit the charcoal he took his beer from me. He flashed me that leering grin of his and said, "To tell you the truth, if you weren't so damn hot I wouldn't have hired his wimpy ass. You're really something to look at. I don't know what that kid did to trick you into marrying him. But I'll bet he thanks his lucky stars every night when he watches you getting ready for bed. You've got the whole package, Kendra. If you're half as hot in bed as you are just standing there I bet you could kill a guy in the sack. But what a way to go!"

I gasped in shock. I felt my face turn bright red. But I was too intimidated to tell him off and he knew it. I wheeled around and went into the kitchen to see what Jimmie bought for dinner.

There were three rib eye steaks, a tub of potato salad from the deli, some chips and a small chocolate cake. He brought home a complete meal, minus the salad.

I put the meat and potato salad in the refrigerator and stood in the kitchen trying to force myself to calm down. Gary came in and headed through the kitchen to the living room. On the way through he said, "Pour a glass of wine for yourself and join me. Let's get better acquainted."

It was an order, not a request.

I didn't really want a glass of wine. But for some reason I couldn't bring myself to tell him that. I poured a small glass and reluctantly joined him in our small living room.

As I walked in front of Gary to take a seat he said, "I can't tell if it's more fun watching you coming or going! If you're half as good in bed as you look it would explain why your husband can't hold a wrench. You're probably screwin' that poor geek half to death."

I gasped in shock while he chuckled at his own crude joke and my embarrassed reaction. I finally found it necessary to try to put a stop to this. I'm no prude. But these constant references to my sex life are not something I can tolerate, no matter who's making them. I don't want to put Jimmie's job in jeopardy. But I won't be talked to this way in my own home!

I suppose that my words might have carried more weight if my protests were not made in a nervous whisper. I stared down at the threadbare rug and whispered, "Please don't speak to me like that. I'm a good Christian woman."

It isn't true, of course. Or at least it isn't true that I am a Christian. But I am a good and proper woman and I can't stand the way he's talking to me.

He laughed and responded, "Even Christian women like gettin' shagged! That's why there's so damn many of them."

I heard a slight sound and looked up to see Jimmie standing in the doorway. His face was nearly as red as mine! He looked very embarrassed. But he's anxious to avoid offending his new employer so he smiled weakly and didn't say a word.

Things didn't improve when Jimmie joined us. Gary ordered us both around all evening. He sent Jimmie out to check on the charcoal and then to cook the steaks. He ordered me to set the table and far too often throughout the evening he ordered me to get up and get him another beer. He treated us like servants!

The off color remarks became more crude and more frequent as the evening progressed. And as the evening wore on he started touching me. He never put his hands where he shouldn't, or at least not quite. He would let his hand rest on my lower back, just a little too low for comfort. But not quite low enough that I felt comfortable saying anything to him about it. Or he would let his hand rest on my shoulder with his fingers draped down, not quite touching my breast. I was tempted to get up and leave the room on many occasions. Unfortunately I didn't have the nerve.

Jimmie pasted that fake smile on his face and let his new boss say and do anything he wants as if it was all just good fun.

It wasn't fun! That horrible man is unbearable. But he's our only source of income and he knows it. We were forced to tolerate his increasingly off color remarks. I began to wonder if Jimmie would say anything if Gary were to give in to the temptation and grab my breast or let his hand rest on my butt.