Chapter 9

My 18^th birthday was coming up. In the past couple of years, I'd gotten my driver's license and eventually – after a long talk with Alex Merriweather – got myself a car: nothing special, it was a three year old Honda Accord, gold in color – but of course, Honda called it 'Sunrise Bronze.' Just plain 'gold' wasn't good enough. I was still working at Mile High Designs and was an old pro by now at doing the CAD drawings. Darby was, of course, a full fledged junior architect, and I was more or less assigned as her full-time drawings slave. That's what Daryl and I and the other two draftspersons – Sherry and Mike – called ourselves: drawings slaves.

I had Darby properly trained, of course. She dictated her notes into a file that I could retrieve, and she stopped by my workstation often to make sure I didn't have any questions. She was assigned to small commercial buildings and the occasional home. She had me pretty much trained as well: I'd do the basic drawing, flesh it out with all the electrical, plumbing, and other detail drawings. Then she'd check it out and make any changes she thought were desirable. Note that I said 'desirable.' It was very rare that she had to make any changes that were 'necessary.'

When I had turned 16 I was officially put on the payroll, and I'd had two performance reviews since. Ms. Entroge (I stopped calling her 'Professor' some time back, since I never saw her University presence) had said once that I would have made a great architect. The only thing holding me back, she said, was that I couldn't read well, and that meant I couldn't really get a college degree. Architects these days had to be degreed, she said. I nodded and agreed with her.

Aside from that, I got great reviews and nice raises both times. The big raise was coming up. When I became an 'adult' in the eyes of the world, I was due for a substantial raise in pay: my 18^th birthday. I didn't need the money, of course, but the boost in status or prestige would feel good.

On the home front, the plan was coming along nicely. Lu had been coming to see me almost every week, on Tuesdays. I'd eat her out and she'd give me a handjob, usually. About every fourth time – it came to once a month actually – she'd give me a blowjob. She'd get completely naked and kneel on the rug in front of the couch in my living room. That's where we normally met – in my house.

Then, Lu would start talking about how I was a special boy – her special boy. How I did wonderful things; how she wanted to do this for me and how she hoped this could go on forever.

FOREVER! She'd said. That's what I wanted to hear. And I had been hearing it every month for a long time.

My actual 18^th birthday came on a Sunday. We were going to have a big party at a very nice restaurant. I invited the Beleveres, of course: Mr., Mrs. and Lu. In addition, I had my main man, Daryl, his wife, Stella Carruthers, Alex Merriweather, Gaby Entroge and Darby O'Shaunessy. Everybody I knew and cared about was going to be there.

We had a great dinner and after dessert I decided that this was the time.

I pulled out my chair and stood up. "This is the time, and I want everybody to share the moment," I said.

Then I pulled out a ring box, dropped to one knee in front of Lu, and said, "Lucinda, will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my wife?"

I could hear Mrs. B. start to sniffle in the background, but my eyes were fixed on Lu. She looked surprised – which I expected. Then she looked shocked – which I didn't quite expect. Then she looked sad.

"Chris..." she started, then paused. She looked around and saw the expectant faces. " ... I just ... can't. I'm going to Law School and that's going to take up all my time. You're still young and..." Then she looked at Darby, who started out smiling but then her face looked alarmed. " ... I'm so sorry, Chris. You're a wonderful boy, and I love you a lot. But there's just so much going on right now."

I got it. She didn't love me enough. I snapped the box closed and you could hear it all over the room. Nearby tables, who had stopped what they were doing to witness a romantic proposal, started quietly talking again. I got to my feet and said to the table, "I guess I've made myself a fool enough for one night. I'm sorry ... to everybody..." I looked at each of them and then at Lu again. Her eyes looked moist. "Please don't let this ruin your night."

Then I walked out the door. Alex came up out of his seat and put an arm around my shoulders as we walked. "Don't do anything foolish, Chris. I know you're upset. But she's dead wrong about you. You're a fine man, not a boy. A man your dad would be proud of. You took a chance, reached for the brass ring. This time you didn't make it. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

I stopped, looked at him, and said, "I've waited a long time to do this. This very thing. I ... We've done so much together, for each other. I just... " Then I looked at the concern etched on his face, and took a big breath of air. " ... Thanks, Alex, for everything. Yeah, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Then I went back to my home, locked all the doors, turned on the alarm system, went up to my parents' bedroom (I had always stayed in my old room) and turned off the lights. Then I carefully set the alarm on the clock radio and cried myself to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream. Sleep was a long time in coming. It was a dreamless sleep, thank goodness.

The next morning, the little computer in the back of my head had made some decisions. Decisions that I wasn't even aware of. First, I went to work and asked for the day off. I'd never missed a day in over three years, so Darby said okay and she'd clear it with the boss.

Then I went to one of those self storage places and rented two full sized garage/storage rooms. I made sure they were fully insulated and had electricity – it gets cold in Colorado in the winter.

I went to a Tesla dealer and bought a $75,000 electric sports car. I didn't get all the extra bells and whistles ... just the basic car. I wanted them to deliver it to the storage place tomorrow. I got a plug in charger, too, for the car. I easily qualified for their finance package, and it came to only $750 a month. I made more than that in interest on my conservative portfolio. I set it up on autopay on the credit card, so I'd get the 1% cash back every month.

Then I went to Ikea. I got a bed, recliner, table, TV cabinet, some drawers, and a desk. Had them deliver it to the storage place too. I decided I could use the public bathroom in the storage place lobby and I'd take my showers at home or at Mile High – they had showers down in the basement for the janitorial staff.

Then I went home, locked up, had a TV dinner and went back to my parents' room. The doorbell rang at about 8 p.m. but I didn't answer it. I did call Darby's cell, though.

"Hello?" she said. "Chris?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen I need tomorrow off, too. It's just to finish up some stuff I set up today. Okay?"

"Chris, what are you doing?"

"Just some stuff. I'd rather not go into it just now."

"One more day? Then back to work?"

"Yeah, I promise."

"Listen ... uhm ... you have to come in for lunch tomorrow. Me and Estelle want to take you to lunch."

"Huh? What's it all about? You and Stella?" I was puzzled.

"We want to meet with you. And in person. So meet us at Rolando's Roadhouse at 12:30. I'll make the reservations."

That was a pretty upscale restaurant. It was also a place where we could have a private table. Very mysterious. I said, "Okay. 12:30."

...

Well, the delivery men came and went, at the storage place. I got the furniture situated almost to my satisfaction, and then I saw it was noon. I'd just have enough time to get to Rolando's.

When I got there, I saw Darby and Stella were already at the table. Sipping water. I expected them to be drinking wine, somehow. Darby was the classiest woman I knew, and Stella liked an occasional drink, I knew. And Rolando's was the classy, wine-drinking kind of place. Or a martini, I guess. I don't know anything about drinks. The most I'd take was a Mountain Dew. I kinda figured that I needed to keep all the brain cells I had, and not kill any by drinking any alcohol. Who knows if that story is true – about drinking killing brain cells – but I believed it.

"Hi guys. What's up?" I said in a chipper voice. I was dressed in chinos and a sports coat I'd brought with me today, in preparation for eating at a classy place.

They looked at one another then at me with a hang-dog expression. "Let's get some food," said Darby.

Stella said, "You've been out for two days – well one and a half, so far. What are you doing?"

"Oh," I said, "Just setting up some things. Finance stuff. You know I got that big settlement a few years back from the accident where my parents died. Right?" It wasn't a total lie. I had spent over $80,000 in just a few hours. That's financial.

Darby had signaled to the waiter who brought out food fairly quickly: two salads for them and a rare burger for me. I always had a burger – it was what I liked. Darby must have made arrangements beforehand.

We made small talk throughout lunch. Work, how things were going at Mile High, Stella's tries for having a baby (nothing yet, but trying was fun), and so on. Everything but the marriage proposal at my birthday party.

Stella pulled out her cell and put it on the table. It was a normal gesture, something I'd seen people do a thousand times. "About two or three months ago," she started, "I had a chat with Darby. We were worried about you."

That surprised me. I didn't think I did anything to be worried about. I looked at Darby. She nodded her head.

"And so, I started going to the University Law School." That was a surprise. She was a computer geek-ess, not a law student. I knew her schedule was flexible at work but... "And I posed as a law student. Met Lucinda Belevere. You know her, yes?"

Lu? "Sure," I said. This was very strange.

"Well," Stella continued, "I had several 'accidental' meetings with her..." She made air quotes around 'accidental.' "And several lunches, as we got to know each other better. Then, one time we met after classes and I got her a little tipsy. That's when we had this conversation." She pushed play on her mobile.

Stella: "So you and this guy ... Chuck?"

Lu: "Chris. Chrissy. He's a peach."

Her voice was a little bit slurred.

Darby reached across the table and took my left hand in hers, and gave me a little squeeze. I just sat there, mouth open, listening.

Lu: "But he's got a great tongue. Lemme tell you. I've been seeing him for years. YEARS! Every week, he eats me until I can't take it any more."

Stella: "Wow. And all this time..."

Lu: "Yeah. All this time I've been with other guys. I learned what the other choices are ... But Chris has a nice trust fund, too. I found out about it when his parents died. Mega-bucks. It's like eight or nine figures."

There was a gap as somebody came to the table and they ordered another round of drinks.

There was a pause.

Lu: "I guess I started to defend him when he was little ... haha ... or younger anyway. He was never little. I was always nice to him, 'cause he didn't know any better. In a lot of ways, he's a real nice guy. Just ... not my type."

Another pause.

Lu: "So when I marry him, eventually, I won't cheat on him. He's too nice a guy and it would break his heart. I care enough not to do that. I want to sow some wild oats, first. Then when I'm closer to graduation, I'll start letting him fuck me. But I'll use a diaphragm and some spermicidal jelly. He won't know the diff. That way I won't have any deformed kids. But I will get pregnant and he'll have to marry me ... I have my eye on a candidate dad. I'll have to be real careful getting to see him. Maybe something out of town ... Nice big guy with a big dick. Rugby player ... Haha ... He's not that smart either ... Then I'll get the healthy kids and the trust fund. Maybe I'll even keep the Rugby player, too. And have Chris to warm the home fire. Hahah. Maybe I will cheat a little bit. But I won't get caught. He's not mentally with it, so he'll never catch me. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Stella pushed the off button on her mobile.

Darby said, "Doesn't she know how you were injured at birth? That it's not genetic?"

I just sat there. I reached for my cola, but before I got it, I just upchucked everything I'd eaten. Everything. Partially digested French fries and hamburger. Soda. Puke green bile. It overflowed the plate, got all over the table and was on my pants.

Everything Lu did was a lie? She was taking advantage of me the whole time? Even when she told me not to get involved with other girls? She's been fucking me over since my parents died? And her attitude about me was the worst thing.

I threw up some more.

Darby came out of her chair. Stella grabbed her mobile – to keep it out of the spew – and then offered me her linen napkin. Three waiters were there immediately, like this kind of thing happened all the time at Rolando's. They seated us at another table, started clearing the fouled table and accepted Darby's explanation: "He's just had some terribly upsetting news. He'll be all right." Which was pretty much true. And then her arm was around my shoulders. She dipped a napkin in her water glass and was wiping my face with it. "When you're up to it, take a little water, Chris."