Chapter 5

Schmidt’s Farm, Kitchen – Yesterday Afternoon

Jonathan needed to refer to the index card for his sister’s phone number. Rebecca’s affectionate style of writing Kevin’s cell number drew his attention. His sister, Deborah’s, cell phone number should be in black ink, bracketed by daggers and thorns. Instead, he found it in pencil, near the top of the list; family always comes first.

Deborah answered before the first ring concluded. How did she always manage that?

“Yes, Jonathan?”

“Ah! Hello Deborah.” She hated the name Debbie and insisted on Deborah. One time, their father brought home a box of “Little Debbie” snack cakes. Dad thought it would be fun to tease her. That had been a bad idea.

“I need a favor. Rebecca is staying with her suitor for a few weeks, and she needs a chaperone.”

“This sounds like one of Rachel’s libertine ideas.”

“Not exactly, it’s more of a miscommunication. You haven’t seen Rebecca in a while, and she loves sewing and cooking with you. It could be fun.”

“Give me the address; I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Deborah, Rebecca is quite serious about her young man and—”

“I should hope so. It’s past time for her to marry.”

“Yes, well, her suitor is not of our faith.”

Deborah didn’t respond at first, then, “You allowed one of the immoral English to taint your daughter? This must be Rachel’s doing! Very well, give me the information. I will provide the chaperonage needed.”

Jonathan winced when his sister spoke about, “The immoral English.” He had hoped her distrust of all non-Mennonites would have faded. But, the scorn in her voice indicated otherwise. Still, Kevin’s charm should win Deborah over soon enough.

He recited the address to his sister, and after she read it back for confirmation, Deborah hung up. He looked at his handset for a few moments before putting it back onto the hook. Had he made a mistake? He turned to Rachel, and said, “It’s done.”

McConnellsburg, Pennsylvania – Present Time

Kevin Butcher:

Awkward would be a good word to describe our morning. This Aunt Deborah character kept herself between Rebecca and me. She chatted with Rebecca while studying everything. If I moved, her eyes locked onto me. She’d glare as if daring me to do something. I tired of her nonsense and stepped towards the kitchen, and she moved to block the doorway! Speaking through clenched teeth, I said, “I’m going to get a cup of coffee.”

Aunt Deborah refused to budge. She told me to sit, and wait. Rebecca would bring coffee when she served breakfast. Before I could reply, Rebecca reached past her aunt handing me a mug of coffee. Rebecca said, “Go check the news or something. I’ll call you when it’s time to eat.” From behind her aunt’s back, she blew me a kiss, and I smiled. Suspicious, Deborah snapped her head around, but Rebecca returned to the stove. I retreated to my den and fired up my PC.

I heard Rebecca call me to breakfast and replied that I was, “On my way Sweetheart!” I heard Rebecca’s laugh. Deborah set the table. She put Rebecca and me at opposite ends, with herself at Rebecca’s right hand. After we all sat, Deborah glanced in my direction. Rebecca steepled her fingers to remind me to say grace. I recalled one of my parents’ favorites and recited it. After I finished, Rebecca slid her placemat across the table and sat to my right. Deborah scowled at us and moved herself to our side of the table. Rebecca and I entertained ourselves by rubbing knees.

Aunt Deborah wouldn’t drink coffee; instead, she supplied her own healthy tea. It had a rank and medicinal aroma. Deborah held up the package and said, “You should drink this tea, Rebecca, it’s holistic. It also prevents fat and other indigestible substances from clogging your colon. If your colon becomes clogged, toxins will build up.” I peeked at the tea’s label; it featured the picture of a TV doctor notorious for promoting pseudoscience and alternative medicines.

Rebecca gave her aunt a noncommittal response of, “Maybe later.”

Deborah continued, “Rebecca, I’ve brought all my sewing equipment. We can make you some new clothes. Let’s start with a nightgown. I have a lovely bolt of brushed flannel. A man’s T-shirt is immodest and not suitable sleepwear for a godly young woman.”

“I’d love to sew with you, Aunt Deborah. Can we make something for Kevin?”

With Rebecca’s question, Deborah’s head swiveled in my direction. She peered at me with cold and suspicious eyes. She opened her mouth and replied to Rebecca. “Does your, ah, friend, need a flannel nightgown?”

This got Rebecca giggling. “I don’t think so, Aunt Deborah.”

I looked at Aunt Deborah, “Excuse me, but I don’t know how to address you.”

“You may call me Mrs. Barie.”

“Thank you. Rebecca and I planned on shopping for groceries this morning. But, I’ll go myself, you and Rebecca can set up your sewing equipment. If there is anything you’d like me to pick up while I am out, add it to the grocery list. Rebecca, I’m still up for cooking tonight. Chicken Cacciatore or something from my grill?”

Aunt Deborah looked dubious, “How is it, Mr. Butcher, that you have so much free time? Are you unemployed?”

“I’m self-employed, Mrs. Barie. I work in the electronics industry.”

She continued to look dubious. “So, you’re some type of television or computer repairman?”

“I could do those things, but lately I’ve installed and repaired commercial server farms and teleports.”

Deborah’s eyes narrowed. I doubted she understood what I said. Most people hearing the word “Teleport” assume it’s something from Star Trek, but a teleport is the ground station for a satellite communication system.

Rebecca got up and began to clean off the table. I stood to help her, but Deborah intervened. “Mr. Butcher, go shower or something. We’ll clean up and have the grocery list ready for you.”

I glanced at Rebecca, and she nodded.

Rebecca Schmidt:

The Aunt Deborah I’ve always known has been loving, protective, and very, very, strict. She knows everything about raising babies but never had any of her own. Her husband, Thomas, passed away several years ago, and she’s never remarried.

Aunt Deborah helped me clean off the table then busied herself by looking through Kevin’s, oops, our cabinets and the refrigerator. She hummed an old hymn, one I recognized, “A Clean Heart.”

I felt certain Aunt Deborah would comment on finding me in Kevin’s bed. Did she know Kevin and I bundled? Still, her finding me wearing a T-shirt wouldn’t suit her strict standards of propriety.

Last night, Kevin had suggested we both sleep nude. I told him we could try it after we married. He then offered one of his T-shirts. Kevin looked so hopeful, I acquiesced and tried it on. While Kevin watched, I checked it out in his full-length mirror. I said, “Kev, it’s so short. I don’t know.”

From behind, Kevin wrapped me in his arms and held me tight. His lips pressed against my neck. He said, his voice sounding rough, “It makes me want to do the wickedest things with you.” Then he picked me up and carried me to his bed. I fell asleep cradled in his arms, his dangerous fingers stroking everywhere.

Sometime in the early morning, I woke with Kevin spooned behind me. He stirred and his penis poked against my behind. A wave of desire overtook me, and I wiggled my butt against him. Moments after his fingers found me, someone pounded on his front door. Kevin jumped up reaching for his shorts and shirt. I rolled onto my back and watched as he tucked himself into his shorts. I said, “Watch the zipper!” He grinned and ran to the door. The next thing I knew, Aunt Deborah called out my name. Seconds later, she found me in his bed, her face rigid with disapproval.

Aunt Deborah cleared her throat, pulling me from my thoughts, she said, “Let’s refresh our cups and talk. We have some catching up to do.”

We sat on opposite sides of the table. Deborah had a package of green tinted biscuits, and after opening it, gestured for me to help myself. I passed because Aunt Deborah’s food could cause unpleasant aftereffects. The bitter and somewhat medicinal aroma of her “poop” tea wafted across the table.

“Rebecca, I will dislike calling your mother later and informing her I found you in Mr. Butcher’s bed. Much less telling her about your state of undress. If, however, you admit he seduced you, and leave with me, I will keep the sordid details between us.”

“Kevin and I have been bundling since August and—”

Deborah’s temper flared. “Bundling? Your parents allowed you to sleep with that rap—man.”

I caught the unfinished word, “rapist.” Why does she think that of Kevin? Taking a sip of coffee gave me a moment to gather my thoughts. I sat the cup back into the saucer, and replied, “Yes. I have permission to bundle with Kevin. It’s rather nice to stay up late talking, and snuggling, with the man I love.”

“We both know more than talking occurred last night. You can talk just fine wearing a modest nightgown.”

“Modest nightwear can’t prevent a determined couple from having sex. So, whatever I wore doesn’t matter. Kevin and I are waiting to marry before we have sex.”

“Nonsense! A man like that has little interest in a godly girl for anything other than sex.” Deborah laid her hands on the table and leaned closer. “Trust me, your Mr. Butcher exhibits all the signs.”

With his hair still damp from the shower, Kevin picked that moment to step back into his, no, our dining room. He looked at me with a little concern, but I shook my head. He nodded and said, “While the original Five Man Electric Band version is great, I prefer the cover by Tesla.”

Aunt Deborah glanced towards Kevin and snapped, “We are having a private conversation, Mr. Butcher.”

“Oh, I heard my name and thought you were talking to me.”

Kevin announced his readiness to pick up the groceries. Aunt Deborah reviewed the list, nodded her approval, and added a couple of items.

Kevin Butcher:

While dressing, I could hear Mrs. Barie and Rebecca having a discussion. As I walked into the dining room, Mrs. Barie said that I exhibit all the signs, I’m sure they are not good signs. Rebecca looked a little upset but indicated she didn’t need my help. To irritate Mrs. Barie, I made an off-hand comment about the song, “Signs.” Deborah and her brother Jonathan are both stiff-necked ass—. I said, “Rebecca, sweetheart, I’m ready to run to the store.”

I traded a hug and a kiss for the grocery list. Aunt Deborah added two items, Chow-Chow and Ponhaus to the list. At the store, I needed to ask a stock clerk for help. It turns out that Chow-Chow is a relish made from pickled vegetables. Ponhaus is a grayish block of, something. It’s in the meat section of the store, next to the scrapple, and another mystery meat product called “Pudding.”

Interlude: Berks County Hospital, Room 4311

Grainger looked up at a knock on his door. Mrs. Schmidt stood in the doorway and asked, “May I come in?”

He tried to push himself upright, but his hands slipped, and he fell back. Mrs. Schmidt stepped to his side. She said, “Hold on Grainger. Lift up a bit.” He levered himself up, and Mrs. Schmidt pulled his pillows out and fluffed them. “Now up again.” She put the pillows back under his shoulders and head. “There, better now?”

“Yes ma’am.” He smiled as best as he could. It still hurt but seeing Mrs. Schmidt made him feel much better.

She pushed a chair closer and sat. Grainger watched her dig into her purse, and she brought out two wrapped candies. She handed one to him and said, “Green tea latte candy; it’s my favorite. Now then, are you through with the police?”

He opened the candy while he spoke. “Yes, ma’am. I had to revise my statement and sign it. Detective Robertson said he’ll ask the district attorney not to press charges against me.” Grainger pushed the shiny green candy into his mouth.

“Detective Robertson is a good man, and so are you, Grainger.”

“Me? I’m not good. But, I’m not going to be around much longer.” Mmm, the candy tasted awesome.

“What do you mean, are you moving away?”

“No ma’am, once Senior learns I ratted out Junior, I’m gone. I don’t care. I’m finished being a patsy for those assholes!” Grainger’s eyes widened as he realized he swore. “I’m sorry Mrs. Schmidt.”

“I’m familiar with the term. I’ll even agree it applies in this case. But, you’ll be safe here in the hospital until you’re discharged. I’ll call Detective Robertson.”

“They’re discharging me today. Probably within the hour.”

Kevin Butcher:

When I got back to the house, Aunt Deborah and Rebecca had converted the dining room into a sewing room. With her aunt’s supervision, Rebecca operated a Bernina sewing machine. Rebecca stopped long enough to help me put the groceries away. She picked up the Ponhaus and grimaced, “Daddy and Aunt Deborah love this stuff.” Then she whispered, “No one else will eat it.” Rebecca kissed me while her aunt watched.

I asked, “Tomorrow morning do you want to attend a Mennonite or a Lutheran service?”

Deborah answered from the dining room, without looking up from cutting fabric, “Drop us off at the Mennonite church, you can go wherever.” There are over twenty different Mennonite conferences. Some are quite liberal; a few are so conservative their members do not own televisions. Deborah volunteered to pick a local church.

In the interest of keeping things civil, I opted to work on outside chores.

My patio needed work, and I used my time to resand the pavers. Rebecca surprised me with lunch while I spread out the new sand. She said, “Kevin, your backyard is beautiful.”

I hadn’t heard her come up behind me. “You snuck up on me.” She gave me a kiss, a glass of iced tea, and a sandwich. I glanced around. “Where is she?”

Rebecca laughed. “Aunt Deborah found a TV channel playing Dr. Phil reruns. She loves Dr. Phil. Want to take a break and eat lunch with me?”

We sat on an old wooden park bench I kept under a mimosa tree.

I munched my sandwich. “I should buy a patio glider for us.”

“Mom and Dad’s porch glider is a family heirloom. Momma’s parents gave it to her as a wedding present. When we marry, they’ll pass it down to us.”

“That’s an excellent tradition. How old is the glider?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s been in the family forever.”

Rebecca’s iPhone pinged with a text message. She checked it and said, “Grandma Sarah likes my ring.”

“Sarah? Your mother’s mother?”

“Yes, they live in Florida now. Can we send them a picture of us?”

“Sure, use your phone and let’s take a selfie.”

We pressed close together, and Rebecca said, “Smile.” It took a few taps before she got her phone to take the picture. Then we had to retake the picture several times. She sent the picture via her message app.

Rebecca caught me grinning and asked, “What’s so funny?”

“I thought about you and your mom, and I realized that I couldn’t wait to meet your grandmother.”

“What are you saying? Grandma Sarah is a proper lady.”

“I’m sure she is. You and your mom both look similar. I bet Grandmother Sarah does, too. What about your father’s parents?”

“Grandpa Joseph died a long time ago. Grandma Martha passed away a few years ago; she used to live with Aunt Deborah.”

We finished our lunch. Rebecca held my hand palm up and drew shapes with her finger. She asked, “Do you want boys or girls?”

Without any hesitation, I answered, “Boys.”

She stopped drawing on my hand and looked up. “Why not girls?”

“Daughters are God’s revenge on men for being male.”

She paused while thinking it through. Grinning she said, “That’s terrible.” then asked, “Am I God’s revenge on my father?”

We both laughed at such a ridiculous notion. I said, “Too bad your aunt is so mean. I bet she could tell us stories.”

Rebecca said, “Mom and Aunt Deborah used to be best friends. I can ask about it at dinner.”

We both jumped when Aunt Deborah’s voice came from behind us. “Why not ask now?”

Becky looked at me, and I nodded. She turned to her Aunt and said, “What was Daddy like when he and Mom dated?”

Aunt Deborah should never play cards for money. A range of emotions played across her face: irritation, concern, anger; each one clear and distinct. I didn’t expect her to answer, but she did.

“When your parents met, Jonathan was twenty-two and Rachel only fifteen. Rachel’s parents wouldn’t allow her to date until she turned sixteen. They still found plenty of opportunities to spend time together. I remember one night when the three of us played Scrabble...” Deborah’s voice trailed off. She refocused on Rebecca and asked, “Why are you asking about your father?”

Rebecca said, “Kevin says he only wants boys.” She turned to me and said. “Tell her why.”

I repeated the quote about God’s revenge.

Aunt Deborah nodded, “I’m familiar with the quote, Mr. Butcher, and I’m not surprised that you find it amusing. Men such as you would. If you marry my niece, and if God blesses you with daughters, he’ll exact his revenge when he casts you into the lake of fire.” Deborah turned to Rebecca, “Come, Rebecca, we need to finish your nightgown.” Deborah turned and marched back into my house.

Becky said, “She’s always been strict. Now she’s—I don’t know what she is.”

“I think she’s crazy. I brought you here to keep your father from sending you to her in Ohio. Instead, he brought her here. I’m calling my lawyer, if he gives me the green light, I’ll kick her ass all the way to the state line.”

Kevin got his lawyer on the phone and explained his situation.

“You have a serious problem, Mr. Butcher. I recommend you keep Mrs. Barie happy. At least until the DA decides to drop the charge against you. If you had asked me for an opinion, I would have advised you to leave your fiancée with her parents.”

“But, we had her mother’s permission.”

“Even so, Mr. Butcher. You do not need complications now.”

Rebecca and I worked together on dinner. She prepped the veggies; I chopped, coated, and browned the chicken. While we cooked, her aunt watched an infomercial on colon health care products. With Deborah out of earshot, I filled Rebecca in on my lawyer’s recommendation.

Becky nodded and said, “Kevin, I know you. You want to fight, and you can’t. I think God is trying to teach you a lesson. Just avoid talking to her. I’ll try and keep her away from you.”

We served the Chicken Cacciatore over fettuccine. Rebecca and I loved it. Aunt Deborah poked at it with her fork, sniffed, and said, “You didn’t make your own pasta?”

Rebecca, trying her best to keep the peace, asked, “Aunt Deborah? Where did Uncle Thomas take you for your honeymoon?”

Deborah finished chewing. She wiped her lips and said, “Thomas took us to Niagara Falls.”

“That’s where Momma suggested Kevin and I go. Can you tell us about it?”

Aunt Deborah smiled. She actually smiled, and told us her story. “Thomas and I didn’t have a lot of money, but he got a great deal from a motel in downtown Niagara Falls. We were only a thirty-minute drive from the falls. It would have been nicer in the spring or summer, but the ice-covered falls in February were still so lovely. We walked out to the island and took in the views. Then my poor husband Thomas almost lost his toes after he slipped and fell into the water.”

I butted in “Niagara Falls, in February? Did you see any penguins or polar bears?”

Rebecca looked at me and shook her head.

Continuing my observations, “The only thing between the North Pole and Niagara Falls is a barbed wire fence!”

Rebecca brandished the serving spoon and said, “Kevin!” I mumbled an apology.

Deborah kept to herself for a few minutes, then glanced at me before turning to Rebecca. “Rebecca, I’ve been thinking. You should marry your second cousin Andrew. He has a real job at a neighbor’s dairy farm.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Deborah, but I’m going to marry Kevin.” She reached and squeezed my hand, probably to keep me from throttling her aunt.

I couldn’t keep quiet. “Don’t be so hasty, Rebecca; Cousin Andrew sounds like a real catch.” My eyes locked with Aunt Deborah’s. “How much manure does Andrew shovel a day?”

Rebecca stood up and took my plate. She looked kind of angry. “Kevin, as you can’t behave yourself, you’re excused from the table.”

Aunt Deborah smiled.

Uh, oh!

Rebecca found me working on my computer. She gave me a hug and pulled up a chair. She said, “I’m sorry that I lost my temper.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. I screwed up.”

“Yes, you did screw up. Even I can see Deborah’s baiting you. Still, I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Momma never told me the whole story. You know Momma and Deborah used to be best friends and went to school together? Well, Deborah hated it when Momma and Daddy started seeing each other. At about the same time, Momma said Aunt Deborah had a secret boyfriend, and something bad happened to her.”

“A secret boyfriend?”

“Grandpa Joseph wouldn’t allow Deborah to date. He even picked her husband for her. Mom says Deborah stopped being her friend and became very distrustful of any man who wasn’t a Mennonite.”

“I owe your dad for sending her here.”

Rebecca stood and hugged me. Her warm lips pressed against my temple. She said, “If anyone kept score, you would be winning. You stole his daughter, and you still have her.” I bent my head back, and she kissed my lips.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I couldn’t see it like that. This,” I waved my hand toward the living room, and Aunt Deborah, “situation is temporary. We’ll go back next week for my hearing, and drop her off at your parents’ house on the way past.”

“We should stop and visit my parents.”

“Yeah, that’ll be fun. I don’t want to wrestle your father.”

“Kevin, you’ve won. Remember that and try to be patient with my Aunt and with Daddy. I’m going to finish my new nightgown.”

As she turned, I asked, “Will you model it for me?” She gave me an over the shoulder finger wave and swayed out the door. Damn, she does that swaying thing, and I want to chase her into my bedroom.

She came by later and modeled it for me. The elastic cuffs and the mock turtleneck seemed extreme, but it looked well made. It didn’t conceal as well as Deborah may think. When Rebecca moved, I caught tantalizing outlines of curves.

The closest Mennonite church suiting Aunt Deborah lay east, over the Tuscarora Mountain and near Mercersburg. Rebecca picked out the right clothes for me, and we had a light breakfast before leaving. After the service, Deborah wanted to stay and talk. I didn’t mind; the congregation made us feel like part of a big family. I even met two men who, after marrying Mennonite women, joined the church. They are friendly people.

Deborah squashed my offer to buy lunch and declared we needed to return home as Rebecca had a lot of sewing to complete. Rebecca rolled her eyes and shrugged. Back at the house, Rebecca got busy on a new dress. I made lunch: grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. We ate at my tiny kitchen table. Imagine my surprise when Deborah asked me what I saw in her niece. Rebecca’s blue eyes darted from her aunt to me. I replied, “Everything.”

“Come, Mr. Butcher, Rebecca is a simple young woman of God, not one of your sophisticated, sexually liberated—ladies. What can she offer you?”

I don’t know what Deborah expected to hear. “A happy life. Love, a family. Everything that’s important.”

“What first attracted you to her?”

I couldn’t keep from grinning. My first memories of Rebecca: her cornflower blue eyes, her smile, the way she moved when she thought no one else watched, but there was one thing, “Wildflowers.”

Deborah looked confused. “Wildflowers?”

I saw Rebecca’s lips curl into a smile. “Rebecca and her mother wear a mild wildflower cologne. It’s a light scent, but it’s what first caught my interest. Later, I figured out how smart she is. Rebecca and I can talk about anything. I realized I loved her while we sat and talked in her kitchen.” I wanted to mention Rebecca’s killer hip to waist ratio, but Deborah didn’t need to know about it.

Rebecca blushed and said, “Eat your lunch before it gets cold.”

“Becks, do you remember the first time we kissed? That night on your porch?” Her blush spread to her ears as she nodded. “I’ll never forget the touch of your lips and that wildflower scent.”

Deborah got up in a huff and excused herself. Neither Rebecca nor I noticed.

Both Rebecca and I startled as Aunt Deborah dropped two packages onto the table. She proclaimed, “Here, Rebecca, are the only reasons you need to leave this lecher.”

Deborah’s absence should have aroused my suspicion. It hadn’t, and now I knew what she had been doing. While Rebecca and I enjoyed our lunch, Deborah snooped through my bedroom drawers. Her diligence paid off because she found evidence of a previous relationship. The items she dropped on the table: a box of condoms, and a new, in the box, Hitachi Magic Wand.

Rebecca looked confused, but she read the labels. She looked at me and said, “Trojan Magnum Condoms?”

I shrugged and replied, “The smaller sizes don’t fit.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had condoms?”

My mind veered off onto a dangerous tangent as I considered her question. What might have happened the other night if I had mentioned the condoms? I imagined Rebecca writhing beneath me, her ankles locked together in the small of my back. I answered quickly, “Ah, um.”

“We’ll talk about them later. What’s this Magic Wand?” She tilted her head to better examine the package.

Aunt Deborah could not keep the triumph from her voice. “That, Rebecca, is a debaucher’s tool. Deviants call them adult toys. No man of moral character would have such under his roof.

“Hey,” I said to Mrs. Barie. “Those things were in one of my bedroom drawers. You were snooping!” I turned back to Rebecca. “Becks, I’m sorry about the toy. I bought it for a former girlfriend, but we broke up before I could give it to her.”

“What does it do?”

“It induces orgasms, powerful orgasms. One plugs it into an electrical outlet, turns it on, and applies it to your, um, self. You know, we’ve never discussed names for our naughty bits.”

Rebecca glanced up to her Aunt, then back to me. “We’ll talk about that later as well.” I nodded. She reached out and picked up the box with the Magic Wand. “It’s heavy.”

“It may be called an adult toy, but it is the best one made.”

Deborah interjected, “Real men do not need degenerate props.” I wanted to suggest she would benefit from a magic wand, but however true, it wouldn’t help.

My fiancée read the label, paused, and set the box down between us. “Why did you and your girlfriend break up?”

I didn’t want to tell the Kristen and Kevin story. It wasn’t one of my finer moments. I said, “I’ll tell you all about it, but first would you like to see a picture?” Rebecca nodded and said she would. From the living room, I retrieved my photo album. “I’ve always wanted to show you my photo album. Old pictures of me with my parents, Marine Corps pictures, but here,” I flipped to the correct page, “are pictures of Kristen and me when we met.”

The short, curvy Kristen looked sexy as hell in her heels, short skirt, and snug fitting T-shirt. Rebecca examined the photos, and Aunt Deborah moved behind her to see them as well. Deborah made “Tsk, tsk,” sounds.

Rebecca said, “What does her shirt say?”

I took a quick look and grinned. “It says,” I said, “if these were brains, I’d be a freaking genius.”

Rebecca smiled, Aunt Deborah did not, maybe she didn’t get the joke? Rebecca closed the photo album and said, “Why did you break up?”

“About three or four weeks after we started seeing each other, I learned she wasn’t single. The entire time we saw each other, she cheated on her husband.”

This set Aunt Deborah off. She said, “What a surprise, our Don Juan here seduces married women.”

I said, “Give me a break, I told you I didn’t know she was married.”

“See, Rebecca! He associates with harlots and adulteresses.”

“It gets even better. I found out Kristen had already divorced and remarried once. Now she wanted to divorce husband number two and make me number three, I told her, ‘No.’ She got mad, threw coffee at me and I haven’t seen her since. She still leaves messages on my answering machine. If you check, I’m sure there are one or two still on it.”

With all the problems instigated by Aunt Deborah, I almost forgot to pay my bills. My computer took forever to boot! After it booted, my internet access seemed sluggish. I tried to open the task manager, but nothing happened. Yesterday, Mrs. Barie used my PC to locate an appropriate church. Did she download a virus or something? My antivirus and anti-malware software didn’t find anything. I rebooted into Safe Mode and checked things out. Someone had installed a Christian approved internet filtering software package. I shook my head and restored from a recent backup. This didn’t take long, and I set up a separate and limited account for Deborah to use.