Chapter 30

Polly walked into the Wagon Wheel restaurant at six sharp and she immediately saw Brian sitting in a booth. There was a vase of flowers - red roses - sitting on the table in front of him. He had the menu open and was looking it over. She felt the rush in her belly that she always felt when she saw him now. She walked over and slid into the booth opposite him. She reached for the flowers and smelled them. People were staring at them.

If you looked up "Greasy Spoon" in the dictionary, there would probably be a picture of the Wagon Wheel there. It had been a fixture in town ever since Polly could remember. When she was in High School, it was the place to go to hang out and have French fries with cream gravy. It had fallen out of favor with the young crowd, and into favor with migrant workers for several years. The menu shifted to suit them. Then a new manager had been hired who tried to bring in Tofu and salads and healthy food. He was fired after about a month. People made it known that if they wanted healthy food, they'd go to Apple Annie's, down the road. They came to the Wagon Wheel to stock up on cholesterol and taste, which was probably the result of the fat content of the burgers, fries, onion rings and other staples of the current menu. The odd stranger stopped in occasionally and usually left without actually ordering, a horrified look on his or her face. But the locals loved the place and kept it afloat quite nicely. The worn table tops, wiped countless times by countless footsore waitresses were an indeterminate color, but nobody cared. The food was delicious.

There was only one table this evening that had flowers on it. That was why people stared. Roses just didn't belong in the Wagon Wheel.

Polly couldn't have cared less.

After dinner they went to the park and walked, hand in hand, talking about anything and everything. There was an old merry-go-round that had somehow escaped the park board members who were intent on making playgrounds so safe that no one would ever want to play on one any more. They took turns pushing each other as they talked some more.

It got dark and they were walking back to Brian's car when a rough looking young man approached them. He whipped out a knife and waved it at them.

"You don't need that fancy watch you're wearing." he said to Brian. "And the bitch don't need her purse either." He waved the knife menacingly.

Brian stepped between Polly and the robber and held up both hands, palms out. "Hey, take it easy, we don't want any problem here." he said.

"Hurry up, man, gimme your wallet too. I'll cut you, man." the punk warned.

"Okay, okay, just take it easy," said Brian, sounding worried. "You can have it all ... just don't hurt us, okay?"

The punk swelled with self importance and waved with the knife. "Hurry up!" he snapped.

Brian reached behind him, like he was going to pull his wallet from his pocket. What appeared in his hand, though, was a .38 Chief's Special, with a two inch barrel.

"Oh, man!" Brian said as the punk's eyes widened. "Don't you just hate it when you bring a knife to a gun fight?" Then he calmly said "Halt ... Police."

The punk turned to run and Brian shot him in the ass. Polly jumped and screamed at the report of the weapon. The punk flew forward, hitting the ground on his stomach and screaming that he was shot and dying.

Brian turned to Polly. "Stay there." he ordered.

He went to the punk and stepped on the wrist of the hand that was still holding the knife. He knelt, putting his knee in the perp's back and the screaming intensified as the man complained that it hurt his back.

Polly, meanwhile, had dug into her purse and found her cell phone. She punched a nine and two ones and breathlessly spoke into the phone. Brian got the knife away from the perp and tossed it a few feet away. A siren wailed in the distance, getting closer and louder. Then there were headlights and flashing red and blue lights. Brian had put his pistol away again, and was holding up his badge.

It didn't go as smoothly as you and I probably think it should have. First there was a jurisdictional issue. Brian wasn't deputized in the county he was in, and a Sacramento PD badge didn't carry any official weight in Circleton. Then there was the issue of the fact that Brian had shot the man. It was pretty obvious that the man was running away when he was shot, which meant he wasn't a danger to either Brian or Polly any more, which meant that Brian was no longer entitled to use deadly force ... assuming he was entitled to use any force at all.

What saved the day, in the end, was that when the Circleton officer picked up the knife and examined it, he made a noise in his throat. He got a lot more official with the robber, and a lot less official with Brian. They were all taken down town.

It turned out that there had been a stabbing earlier at a bar, and the perpetrator of that incident had gotten away. The victim was still in surgery, and it was touch and go as to whether he would make it. What the Circleton officer had seen on the knife was blood where the blade pivoted once it was unlocked. Brian had apparently caught what might very well be a murder suspect. Murder was a little beyond the daily fare of such a small jurisdiction, and State Troopers were requested. Once a trooper arrived and heard all the information, he dragged a judge out of bed and presented him with the jurisdictional problem.

"What's wrong with you people?" snapped the judge. "He's licensed in the State of California. He saw a fleeing felon who was known to be armed and dangerous. His arrest was obviously made based on probable cause. You woke me up for this?"

It was after midnight when they were finally allowed to go. Brian had to work the next day, but not until swing shift. Polly had to work too. He took her home. When they got there Fran was already in bed asleep when Polly eased her door open and checked on her. She closed the door and pulled Brian to her bedroom.

"Um ... Polly ... there's a bed in here." he said.

"It's my bedroom, silly." she said.

"I thought you said we weren't going anywhere with a bed on this date."

"That was before you saved my life and fought for me." she said, taking her shirt and bra off. "I do not want to be the only naked person in this room." she said, reaching for the fastener of her pants. "You can leave tomorrow morning in plenty of time to do whatever you have to do to get ready for work." she said.

The adrenaline rush was long gone, but the feeling of having escaped danger in a close call made their lovemaking something even more precious and special than it had been in the past. It was slower, more measured somehow, and Polly's orgasm allowed her enough control to whisper his name over and over. As he once again gushed his seed she held him tightly and he groaned, celebrating the amazement that he had stumbled across her.

Fran woke up and stretched, imagining her body becoming lean and thin as it got longer and longer until she was ten feet tall from toes to fingertips. She relaxed. She didn't remember her mother coming in last night, which was strange. Polly didn't stay out late usually.

Fran got up and padded to her mother's bedroom just to check. She pushed the door open on silent hinges and took in a breath when she saw the two naked bodies tangled up on the bed. Both were sleeping soundly. She looked at her watch. It was past time for her mother to be up and getting ready for work. She walked to the nightstand and looked at the alarm clock. The switch was in the off position.

Now that she was closer she could smell them ... the odor of what they had obviously done last night. Fran felt a twinge in her loins. Ever since Bob had taken her virginity she had felt conflicting desires. She wanted to do that again, but Bob was always with one of the other women, living here, or there. If he stayed with her grandmother she could probably manage to stay overnight and get him alone, but who knew when that would happen again?

She had thought about boys she knew, and about what it might be like with them. She didn't have a boyfriend. She had always been too independent and thought she would feel tied down if she agreed to be some boy's girlfriend. She was also a creature of habit. Whenever she went out to eat, for instance, she always ordered the same thing. She knew she'd like it, so why take a chance on something else she might not like? Now she had a new habit, except that she couldn't indulge in it whenever she felt like it. And thinking about doing it with one of the boys she knew was too much like ordering something different in a restaurant.

Feeling disgruntled, she poked her mother in the shoulder with a finger.

"Huh?" Polly jerked and opened her eyes, squinting.

"You're going to be late for work," said Fran tersely.

The situation slammed into Polly's mind all at once ... late for work ... Brian next to her ... naked...

"Shit!" she gasped.

"Mother!" chided Fran, watching interestedly as her mother moved and Brian's loins were exposed.

"What are you doing here?" gasped Polly.

"Waking you up ... duh!" giggled Fran. Somehow her mother's embarrassment made her feel better.

"We're naked!" moaned Polly.

"I can see that," said Fran calmly.

"You're not supposed to see that." whined Polly.

"Too late." laughed Fran. "Besides, I'm a big girl now."

Brian had begun moving at the sound of voices. He opened his eyes and looked at Fran.

"Uh oh." he said.

"Morning Brian," said Fran sweetly. "Did you have a good time last night?"

"Go away you horrible girl." moaned her mother.

"Yes Mommy," said Fran mimicking a little girl. "You can still make it to work on time if you hurry." With a look over her shoulder she walked to the door and left, smiling.

At Gidget's house, things were almost as frantic. Sunny was worried that Val and Becca would ask all kinds of questions about why she hadn't come home. She was going to have to wear some of Gidget's clothing to make it to work on time herself. Gidget's job was more flexible, so she could be a little late. Bob got up with them and fixed breakfast for them while they got ready to leave. After perhaps a minute or two of embarrassment, both women adjusted and chatted like the sisters they actually were as they got ready. Both wolfed down breakfast, kissed Bob on the lips, and left, Gidget offering to drop Sunny off at her car.

Bob was detailed to call Sunny's house and let the girls know everything was all right. He dialed Polly's number by accident, and Fran answered.

"Hi!" she said brightly. "I was just thinking of you."

"Oh ... sorry, I was supposed to call Val and let her know that ... never mind. I must have dialed the wrong number. I'm not used to trying to remember so many phone numbers."

"You didn't dial the wrong number. Karma made you dial this number," said Fran. "I told you I was just thinking about you. What are you going to do today?"

Bob had to think. "I have an appointment to see a builder and I thought I'd talk to a few Realtors to see what kind of land is available," said Bob.

"Can I go with you?" asked Fran. "I'm bored."

"Sure," said Bob. "Let me call Val and clean up breakfast dishes and I'll pick you up."

He pressed the flash hook and the phone immediately rang.

He lifted his finger. "Hello?"

"Grandpa!" came Val's voice. "Where's my mother?"

"She's fine," said Bob. "We stayed up late talking and she decided to just stay here. She went to work from here."

"Oh," said Val. "We were worried when we got up and she wasn't here."

"Well, don't worry, everything is fine," said Bob.

"What are you doing today?" asked Val.

That led to an explanation that he and Fran were going places, and Bob ended up picking up all three young women to take with him as he began to plan for his future home.

Just being Bob would have been enough to catch the attention of most people. Having three gorgeous young women with him just added to the mystique. He introduced them as his granddaughters as he went from place to place, which was jarring, considering his visual appearance of age. They, of course, giggled and looked fabulous. If somebody ever tells you that having a bunch of good looking women with you doesn't get you special attention, tell them they're crazy. The men Bob dealt with that day fell all over themselves to make sure that Bob Winkle was happy. Of course some of it might have been due to the fact that he was talking about high end purchases, but all that nubile young flesh didn't hurt things.

By noon Bob had a list of properties to take a look at and an architect salivating at the prospect of designing what Bob wanted.

Just driving around in the Camaro with the girls got Bob a lot of jealous stares. The girls knew the area well enough that the six locations Bob wanted to look at were found with little trouble. Only two of them already had houses on them, but they were on parcels of five and seven acres. Three of the other four were undeveloped land. The last one was low in the foothills, and was a failed Winery. The business was about to declare bankruptcy and the owner was trying to sell the property before that happened, to prevent the land from being taken as an asset. Bob had seen a flier about the property at the Real estate agency and had asked about it on a whim. It was farthest from Circleton, in El Dorado county, and on another whim Bob decided to go there first.