Chapter 13

Friday was ... interesting. It started out beautifully. I was awake quite a while before Beth Ann and made good use of the time, watching her sleep. She looked sweet and edible lying there. I wanted to eat her up but just looking at her was equally fulfilling, so I did.

When she awoke, her smile nearly stopped my heart and I kissed her as deeply as any kiss we'd ever shared, waking up Mr. Johnson and motivating Beth Ann's furry friend.

I had no idea where that phrase came from. It just popped out when we were making silly talk, while I played with my lover's nipples. At one point, I slid my hand down her silky smooth torso and just as I brushed through her pubic hair, I asked, "What does your furry friend think about being handled by a brute?"

That got Beth Ann laughing and we giggled while I aroused her to the point that talking was no longer on the menu. When she went over the edge, her moan was so deep and tortured I almost stopped - thinking I was hurting her - but she grabbed my hand and pressed it in a way that let me know she was fully into our game.

When Beth Ann recovered I nosed Mr. Johnson in for a short stay in the Furry Friend Lodge. At the critical moment, Beth Ann grabbed the specimen cup and collected the evidence of our tryst.

We shared the shower, played and giggled like school children, hurried getting dressed, brushed and all ready to go, then we went out for breakfast at a log cabin, pancake house we'd driven past a couple of times. Beth Ann mentioned eating there, someday and today was that someday.

The place was a typical home style mom and pop. The owners both worked the counter and ran roughshod over a large staff, who looked they had been there for decades. Their food was filling. I couldn't have eaten another bite by the time we waddled out to the van. We had to be at Colleen's office by eleven to continue the inquisition. It was nearly that time, when we finished our long breakfast, so we headed over.

Colleen was dressed more casually than the day before, in slacks and a silk shirt. She seemed to have spent considerable time on her ensemble, like she was trying to make it seem like she threw it together at the last minute but there was a quality about her appearance that made me think she spent a long time making everything just right.

I was a little surprised to see Rebecca in Colleen's small conference suite, with an older man. He stood as we came in and Colleen made the introductions. Beth Ann Morse, this is my father, James Bell. Daddy, this is Beth Ann Morse, her son, Brian and you already know Rebecca.

Mr. Bell was tall, distinguished and elegantly dressed for a simple consultation. I knew there was something special about this man and hoped we got to talk before he left. He intrigued me but I couldn't put my finger on why. Colleen got us started but it was clear Mr. Bell was running this meeting. As fast as Colleen reviewed the facts from our two meetings and Rebecca volunteered to summarize her notes - taking time to let us know that my second sample came back negative - Mr. Bell dove right in.

"Mrs. Morse," his voice had a pleasant tone and he spoke clearly as well as carefully. "I hope you will be able to bear with me and my country lawyer ways but we have a great deal to sort through, together and if you don't mind I am going to begin right away.

"I spent much of last night with my daughter, reviewing her notes and trying to make sense of Rebecca's medical jargon. The basic facts are pretty self-evident. You and by extension, you Brian, did nothing wrong. The two of you were traveling on your side of the roadway, in your lane, clearly within the speed limit. We know these things because the State of Missouri chose not to cite you for any traffic infractions.

"A tractor trailer owned by a transport company, driven by a full time, company driver, crossed multiple lanes of traffic - more than once as I read the Trooper's version of events - and struck your vehicle on the passenger side door, doing such significant damage that the vehicle was immediately written off as a total loss by your insurance company's adjuster.

"Your minor son, Brian, received numerous and varied head injuries, some quite extensive, then briefly died in the emergency room and after being successfully resuscitated, was discovered to have lost the vast majority of his memory, due to impact trauma to the head.

"Your new employer had the foresight to refer you to my daughter, for what should, or could have been, what we think of as simple claim representation but that isn't the case at all.

"Now we have discovered that Brian, a minor, male, child, fourteen years of age, and previously in exceptional health, not only has no memory of his life prior to the incident, but will never be able to father his own children. Rebecca's notes indicate a most unusual fact. Brian has a zero sperm count. His body produces exactly zero sperm necessary for procreation and the long term effects on his adult life will likely be seriously impacted.

"Between a child with no memories and no chance to provide the necessary element to a spouse, making them capable of procreating, we (Colleen and I) believe that Brian's has a very strong position against the trucking company.

"These are the facts, now I need to know the rest. Mrs. Morse, have you experienced any pain, discomfort, limited motion, inflammation, weakness, sleeplessness, unusual restlessness, irritability, loss of earnings, out of pocket expense, or any other form of inconvenience caused by the accident? Of course you have and we will create a comprehensive catalog of how your life has been impacted since your incident.

"Brian has an even longer list of personal injury and loss, which we will fully flesh out today.

"This is a good time to stop and ask you, Mrs. Morse, Brian – do you wish to add anything to my summation of where we are, right now?"

I sure didn't. Mr. Bell was quite imposing and I doubted anyone ever back talked him - certainly not twice. Beth Ann though for a minute and shook her head, also. I couldn't wait to see where this was going.

Mr. Bell turned to Colleen and asked, "Honey, could you bring young Mr. Morse a soft drink and see what his mother might like? We have a long way to go, today and will need sustenance, too." Smiling at me he said, "I heard something about a pretty good pizza for lunch. What do you think, young man? Does that sound like a plan?" He actually smiled. I would have bet he hadn't smiled in his entire adult life.