Chapter 8

On the following Monday I drove Janey to school. Normal attendance at the school had been suspended for almost a week after the attack because of the hoopla and the police and FBI investigation, so she hadn't missed that many classes. Janey had wanted to ride the bus as usual, but Sally was insistent and won this one. It was on my way to my office, and I had several other errands to do that couldn't wait much longer. Everyone knew Sally and Janey from the news, but no one knew me, as I had stayed in the background and out of the cameras. A habit from my old job, I guess. As a result, I could pretty much go into town unnoticed.

It was a pretty quiet ride for the most part, which was unusual. Not that Janey was a chatterbox, but we had always been able to talk to each other. It was obvious she was worried about her reception at school, among other things weighing heavily on her mind. Janey had her cheerleading outfit and pom-poms stuffed in a bag on the floor by her feet. She had decided, on her own, to resign from the squad. Sally and I both thought it was a mistake to make this decision so soon, but Sally had been unable to talk her out of it. I thought I would give it a shot.

"Gee. I'm sure going to miss that cheerleading outfit," I said somewhat sadly.

She looked at me with a puzzled look, her curiosity piqued, but already suspecting that that extraneous comment was an attempt to get her to change her mind about resigning from the squad. Her guard was up.

"Huh?" she asked.

I repeated myself. "I'm going to miss that cheerleading outfit."

No response from the far side of the car. I thought I had better elaborate. Hell, I had started out by saying the first thing that came to mind. I went with it but had no idea where I was headed, to be honest. I can't lie to save a penny, but I can prevaricate with the best of them.

"Well, you see, your Mom and I play this game sometimes when you're not home. We didn't think you'd mind. It was her idea actually. See, she pretends to be a cheerleader and I'm this hot-shit jock. We go to the High School and sneak under the bleachers. Yada yada yada," I ended, letting her draw her own conclusions as to what happened.

This was almost too close to the truth of what happened to her, but it was too late to stop by the time I realized where I was going with it.

"She is so hot and God, sooooo sexy in that tight sweater, that short white skirt and those tiny red panties. Yup, we sure had some really hot times under those bleachers, and in the locker rooms, both the boy's and the girl's. And in the showers - you get the picture. Oh, yeah, once we did it at center court in the gym and almost got caught by the principal. It was great! I tell you, I'm really going to really miss that uniform. Oh, shit, then there was the time in the mud on the 50-yard line. We thought we'd never get that sweater clean again. Bet you couldn't even tell, could you?" I finished.

"You did it center court?" she squealed. "In my outfit? Ewww! Gross!" She pulled her hands off the bag like it was full of dirty underwear.

We rode in silence for a while.

"You really think Mom looks sexy in my outfit?" Janey asked me.

I figured she was thinking about how much alike they looked. If Mom was sexy then she was sexy, too, right?

I didn't say anything in response. I just made an obscene gesture with my mouth, beating the tip of my tongue rapidly up and down between my slightly parted lips like I did on Sally's clit whenever I could. She got the picture, vividly.

"Ooooo, Larry. That's gross. You two are sick," she groaned in typical teen fashion.

I laughed, and she stared out the window on her side, ignoring me the rest of the way to the High School. She made me drop her off a block before the school. I dropped her off where she requested, but I watched her safely into the school. Only then did I go to change my clothes before going in to work. It had been an unexpectedly long time since I had had a chance to get a change of clothes. About halfway to my apartment I noticed the bag on the floor, her cheerleading stuff still inside. I did a 'happy, happy, joy, joy' dance in the car seat the rest of the way to my apartment.

I was still grinning like an idiot when I got to my office. There, I gave my boss the option of an extended leave or my resignation, his choice. He surprised me and countered with a home-office package. I hesitated, thinking it would be more work, less pay and that I would still be coming into the office five times a week. When he doubled my salary and my vacation, effective immediately, and made all contact through FAX, phone or e-mail, I agreed. Geeze, twist my arm, why don't you? It was nice to be appreciated, though. I cleared out my desk, set up contact schedules with my secretary, who was now promoted to my personal assistant, and left.

Sally had convinced me I should move in with the two of them full time and made room in her closets for my stuff. So my next stop was the manager at my complex. He made noises about not getting a 90-day notice, forfeiture of all deposits, and broken leases.

I simply turned his telephone around, punched on the speakerphone and dialed the local cable company. When he heard the receptionist answer, 'Hello. This is Cable Com. How may I help you?' he paled and disconnected the call faster that I had thought his fat fingers could move.

I walked out of his office a homeless person, free of all legal obligations. I had had to promise him I wouldn't call the cable company again. For that, he would tear up my contract. I fully intended to keep my promise to him, as I didn't need to call them again. I had already placed a call to them from my apartment before I went into his office. I figured they would be arriving in less than 3 minutes, probably with the police. I hoped they would get there before he had time to rip out all the illegal wiring and the illegal descrambler boxes he had installed. That motherfucker had set up his own little cable company, using a pirated signal, and had charged every single tenant the normal hook-up fees and monthly service, including pay-per-view and premium channels. Being caught red-handed like I hoped he was going to be would mean fines and maybe even some jail time for the fat bastard.

The cavalry arrived just as I was pulling out of the parking lot. Payback is a bitch, isn't it?

Sally survived Janey's first day back at school. It had helped a lot when I handed her the bag with her cheerleading stuff still inside. She looked up at me with a question in her eyes. I simply kissed her smooth forehead.

"Uh, you probably don't want to know exactly what I said to her, but we should probably make sure to get it cleaned real well if you were to ever put it on and sneak into the High School gym with me some night. Have you ever thought about role-playing as a cheerleader and me as big hot stud? You might want to give it some thought, uh, just in case. Or you might try to remember the time we rolled around in the mud in the middle of the football field..."

"But we never did that!" she interrupted.

"I know that, and you know that, but Janey doesn't know that. But, well, she might have somehow gotten the impression that we had done something like that and really enjoyed using the uniform. So I figured we might as well, no?" I gave her my best evil grin. "How about right now little girl?" I leered at her.

Her laughter was musical, the first I had heard from her in a long, long time. It felt good to hold her in my arms and see her smiling face looking up into mine. It made me feel like I could conquer the world. I told her about the rest of my day as we unloaded boxes from my car. It all fit in a tiny corner of the garage. Not much to show for 34 years of living.

Sally was pleased it had worked out for me to work out of the house. She suddenly found she needed me to be there for her at odd times, kind of like a stabilizer. She took me through the house, offering me my pick of rooms to use for my office.

Remembering back to last week and still curious, I suggested the cellar. She hesitated. Instantly sensing something secret about to be dug up, I played innocent and persisted, saying how ideal it would be, how I would be there whenever she needed, but out of sight at the same time. I wouldn't bother her with the phone calls or the faxes or my music. I suggested maybe just a part of the cellar could be converted into an office. Babbling enthusiastically at this great idea of mine, I grabbed her hand and started towards the cellar door.

She didn't stop me, but she did lag behind. I sort of had to drag her along, actually. I got to the door and with a flourish and a bow said, "Ladies first, madam."

She went down the stairs like a condemned woman. This just got 'curiouser and curiouser, ' as the saying goes.

The harsh light from the single overhead bare bulb revealed nothing out of the ordinary: laundry area, heating and cooling systems, water heater, and storage area. There was nothing down here that should have taken up so much of her time the last five days. She would disappear down here for hours at a time, coming back up without a word of explanation and noticeably subdued.