Chapter 389

I was totally shocked by how involved I had been with the Irishman. I had to wonder, was it a software change, or was I evolving somehow. It did not matter one bit to me, which it was. The only thing important to me was how wonderful it had felt. I know what a cliche it is. but I had felt really alive during the experience. Maybe I felt that way for the first time, since I died. There I said it. I had died when they took my memories. It was the price I paid for eternal life.

It had been so good with the Irishman that I didn't even mind that he had most likely gone from my bed to the realty whore Kate;s bed. It was possible that I had been second and he was coming from hers. Damn I was just so damn cynical.

When the sun came up, the droopy feeling left me and I felt amazingly relaxed, not that I ever got nervous. Hell I had all kinds of, almost, new feelings running through me since that last visit to the farm. Of course I wondered what they had done to me, but I knew it was a waste of time to ask. I was their Manhattan project, double, super, top secret.

Sylvia told to expect the new client at ten, so I got an early start on the day. I was at Helen's by 7:20 AM. and it had been a chilly bike ride that early. Not to me, but to anyone else it would have seemed so. I could see the looks of sympathy on the faces of the cops, firemen, and paramedics as I came in holding the bike helmet.

"Tell me your truck is broke down Max, I don't want to believe you are dumb enough to ride that bike on a day like this," one of the police sergeants suggested.

"Hey, I have to keep my girlish figure somehow," I said with a smile.

"You are too skinny already Maxine, you look like a teenage boy," one of his buddies remarked.

"I do that, for that little bit of pervert in all you guys," I said with a grin.

"I don't know about the rest of these guys, but I like a little meat on my women," another one said.

"Now you tell me damn it. Well this morning I am going to have the giant cinnamon roll breakfast," I said. "That's start on the new 'fattening of Maxine' project." I said.

The giant cinnamon roll breakfast was just that. One giant iced cinnamon roll with coffee and orange juice. The cake in Helen's cinnamon roll wasn't white or even white with a hint of yellow. The damn thing had so many eggs, and so much butter, it was absolutely the color of butter. The icing somehow was hard enough to be a candy all by itself. Helen had admitted to me once, that the recipe came from the file of recipes she had bought from the mill's caterer's daughter. The cinnamon buns had to be able to withstand being rolled around on a snack cart all day, and still be something that the mill workers wanted to buy at the end of the third shift. They were a complete meal, even it was a heart attack wrapped in wax paper.

For the new 'sugar at any cost' me, it was absolutely perfect. That and the bitter black coffee, which I had taught Helen to make, was the ideal new breakfast for me. After the breakfast I was on what could only have been a sugar high, if I got those kinds of feelings any more.

I went from Helen's to the mall for a quick walk. Not really a quick walk, it was more like a short walk. I didn't mind cutting it short, since the really old fogies were walking around. When I lapped the same guy twice, I knew it was time to leave.

So I was back home drinking the thick day old black coffee, when she came. She knocked on my front door, so I got a good look at her even before I opened it. She was not as thin as me, but still thin. Unlike me she had beautiful blond hair poking from under a head scarf. It was thick and well done I could tell even from the small amount showing. She wore large dark glasses as well as the scarf. At first I thought it was to hide her identity, however once she got inside, I knew that it was because both her eyes were bruised.

"You must be Lydia?" I suggested.

"Yes and you are Maxine Stone of course. I am so glad that you agreed to see me. I really have nowhere else to go," she said.

"First of all, how did you get those injuries?" I asked.

"When I asked my husband for a divorce, he went crazy." she said.

"Did you go to the hospital?" I asked.

"Yes I did. I filed a police report as well, but I'm sure it never got into the system," she said almost sadly. She seemed to have given up.

"Oh why is that?" I asked.

"My husband is Harold Timmons," she said. When she saw that it didn't mean anything to me, she added, "Superior court judge Timmons."

"Ah the good old boy network in action. Did you file a restraining order?" I asked.

"I called all over town yesterday, no lawyer will take my case," she informed me.

My logic circuit kicked in. "Lydia how far are you willing to take this?" I asked

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Are you willing to destroy him in order to get away?" I asked.

"He will kill me, if I attack him," she said.

"No, he won't kill you, but he will find a thug to give it a try most likely. I can find a couple of thugs to prevent that from happening. First, we have to take his power away, before we can really protect you. So I ask you again, how far are you willing to go?" I repeated.

"I will do whatever it takes to be free and stay alive," she said honestly. I could tell from her body language that she was being perfectly honest.

"So where are you staying?" I asked.

"In a motel," she said.

"We will be moving you. It is too easy to find you in a motel. He will have his cop buddies on it by now." I said.