As in previous stories, I have used the names of Jenny, Joe, Stephanie and Sam (the perpetual evil villain). These stories are not connected in theme, sequence or any other manner except for my lazy reluctance to come up with different names. The only similarity is that I have the same personal fantasy of what a beautiful woman looks like. I use the same description of the main character (of Jenny) in most of my stories. You can go to my blog on storiesonline.net to see why.
Jennifer Marie Stephens carried the last of the large crock pots out to the crew cap pickup truck. The leftover pecan pie, pumpkin pie and scallop potatoes were in the floor boards on the driver's side. She opened the back door and put the Crockpot that was half full of turkey behind the seat.
She could see that her fourteen-year-old daughter, Stephanie was sitting behind the steering wheel. A young boy, a few years older was sitting in the "shotgun" seat. Jenny smiled as she walked around and opened the front door on the passenger side. "By, Brady." the young girl in jeans and huge black Stetson said with a claw-like gesture to the young man as he bailed out of the lifted four-wheel drive truck.
Jenny had been out-maneuvered again. She climbed into the passenger seat and leaned over to grab the door. Jenny had a few other things on her mind when she agreed to let Steph drive back from her older daughter's wedding. Stephanie had looked forward to these two-hundred mile trips, because she often got to drive back. Jenny had promised that if the weather was good and there was still light, Stephie could drive back.
It had been a nice wedding as these small town weddings go. Her daughter had been teaching in the small consolidated school district since she got out of college, and met a young man who was a fellow teacher in a nearby school. The town her daughter lived had only about a hundred people. Houses were dirt cheap, but it was always a long trip to the closest town with a grocery store, hardware store or any kind of restaurants.
The church was the only one in town. The Indian that was the minister, also worked as a farm hand and had another church he preached to as well. The wedding was small and short. Jenny sang a couple of songs and played a violin solo. The preacher did not have a lot to say.
The reception was in the town Community Center. The local wives and girlfriends had prepared lots of nice turkey, ham, pork, potato salad and potato chips. After the food was eaten and the tables and chairs put away, everybody went upstairs for the dance. Some of the older people refused to get up. Lots of the kids had a great time with the "Chicken Dance," the Hokey Pokey and some of the line dancing.
Stephanie was a big hit with the local high school boys. She had changed from her purple brides' maid's dress to a short button-front number with suede high-heel boots that zipped up the side to just below her knees. The dress was shockingly short to her mother, but pretty common with the young girls.
Jenny was no wallflower either. She tried to keep busy cleaning up the kitchen, putting away chairs and tables and cleaning up the spills people were making. Even though she tried to make herself obscure, she was hard to miss. Jenny was easily the most spectacular looking woman in the room. There was no shortage of men of all ages that were chasing after her to take her around the dance floor all evening.
At forty, and after two children, she still had that toned and tanned athletic body that had gotten her a track scholarship that got her through college.
On the way home, Stephanie talked about all the boys she had met at the dance. For a girl from Broken Bow Nebraska, she was a city slicker compared to the boys from around Clyde, Kansas. They all seemed to enjoy meeting others from out of town, whether it was at a dance after the football or basketball games, or a wedding, everybody had a great time meeting kids from out of town. Stephanie couldn't quit talking about the boy she had met from Clyde.
Jenny had to keep reminding her to keep her eyes on the road. They were heading into a storm. The sun was low and behind them; leaving all the wheat and prairie hay a golden brown that faded to a lush green in the middle distance and fading into a bluish green at the horizon. The sky above them sparkled with white clouds. The sun was high enough to leave the clouds in the distance an angry bluish grey that faded into the horizon in an almost black.
Jenny took off her wide brimmed Stetson and threw it in the back seat. She opened her back pack, pulled out her blue Levi's and plaid long sleeved cotton shirt. They were high enough in the four wheel drive pickup that the cars they were passing could not see her as she ducked down and changed out of her short purple button-front oxford cloth sleeveless dress.
Stephanie glanced over enviously at her mother as she changed clothes. She did not understand how her mother could be in such good shape at her age and after having two children. Her long legs and arms had a golden sheen over a red-head's freckles. She wiggled her arms and head to get her long French braid up through her shirt. She stuck her feet up above the dash and lowered the seat back to get her feet through the jeans without taking her boots off. She arched her back and raised her butt off the seat to tuck her shirt tails in and buckle her rodeo belt and zip up her jeans.
Jenny turned poured herself a cup of coffee and offered her daughter a chicken wing. Stephanie shook her head and pulled her Dolce & Cabana sunglasses off of the sun visor. The wedding and time with her young daughter was a brief respite over her problems at home.
When they got back, she knew her and her husband Joe would have to have a serious talk with one of their farming partners. Things were getting serious and the wedding had been a gentle diversion to their money problems.
Both Jenny and her husband had sunk their inheritances into a section of farm land. With Joe's job teaching Vocational Agriculture at the high school and her job as a music teacher, they had been able to make a comfortable living. With their summers off, they could farm the land they had and have some left over. Things had been going pretty good for a while, and they had bought some new farm equipment. With the new equipment, they needed to come up with more income to help pay for it. Joe had decided to start share cropping with some of the older men in the area.
The safe way to do it would have been to just lease the land from the men for a set amount per acre. What most of the older men wanted was a "Crop Share" agreement where both the farming person and the one leasing the land shared in the profit or loss on the land. The land owner stood to make more profit but it also involved both parties putting up a percentage of the costs of farming. The gas, fertilizer, seed, etc. were all shared on a 60 / 40 basis. This lowered Joe's risk on the costs of farming, but also lowered his profit.
This last year, there had been some bad droughts. Joe's wheat and corn had produced terribly. He was having trouble coming up with his share of costs to farm the different owner's properties. Sam Cromwell was the land owner who had called the meeting.
Jenny was mortally afraid of Sam Cromwell. When she was in high school, she was an awkward gangly young freshman who was afraid of her own shadow. Sam was one of the most popular boys in the senior class. He was a big self-confident senior who quarterbacked the football team and was team captain of their all-state basketball team.
Jenny was a long-legged, flat chested girl with wire rimmed glasses and red hair down past her waist. She never looked up at anybody and rarely spoke. Sam saw the potential in the young girl. He knew someday this would be a keeper. The one thing that made her stand out was her athletic ability. From the time her mother took her practically fighting and screaming to cross country practice, she became a different girl. As a freshman, she was always at the lead of the pack. The only thing that kept her out of the lead was her own self consciousness. She could not bear to be the center of attention, so she ran about two steps off of the lead. When she got to the "chutes" at the end of the race, she would pass everybody in the last thirty yards. There were so many people gathered at the finish line, only the judges and timers could easily tell who had won.
Jenny gradually came to be a favorite of the coaches and fellow athletes for her humility and awkwardness. Sam had begun asking her out. Unknown to her, it was based on a wager with some of the other boys on the football team. After being seen at a number of school dances, she also became the envy of some of the other girls. "What does this flat-chested girl have that we don't have?" the cheerleaders wondered. "She must be fucking him." They all reasoned. This may have been the basis of the bet that instigated Sam's dating her, but Jenny had no idea what was going on.
During the football and basket ball seasons, the girls became more and more envious of the awkward young girl who was always seen sitting in the middle of the bench seat of the 1955 Chevy that had been chopped and lowered.
Sam himself had been changing. As she became more and more popular with her classmates, he had become more and more insistent with her. The kisses and parking sessions became longer. Instead of going to the library to study, they had gone out to the grain elevator and parked by the railroad tracks more. The kissing led to fondling. The fondling led to unbuttoning. Jenny was young but understood the progression. She knew things were going to reach an impasse pretty soon.
.... There is more of this story ...