Ice Heart Ch. 01

****

"Huh, never even thought of that," Cris admitted when Sherri Lambert pointed out the four-plex on the outskirts of DeGarde, in Bender, Louisiana.

He'd tired very quickly of the Econolodge and had rented a loft apartment behind the Office Depot on Johnson Street. It was Sandra that asked him why, if the office was in DeGarde, did he insist on living in Lafayette.

Sherri Lambert and her husband were next door neighbors of Sandra and Sandra's husband, Jimmy.

"Our kids play together, fight together, in fact, Paula says she's going to marry Little Jimmy," Sandra laughed. "Anyway, Sherri's trying her hand at being a real-estate agent. Told her to pick a job and stick with it, but can't tell her anything, give her a call."

The overweight woman came into Cris's office, sat down and asked him what he was looking for.

"My needs are pretty simple, really," he said and looked over as she spread her legs slightly.

Despite the nearly one hundred extra pounds Sherri Lambert carried, she was an attractive woman. He smiled encouragingly. She smiled cheekily and spread her legs a little wider.

"I got a feeling you and I are going to work very well together," she predicted.

The first house they looked at was empty; Scandurro Realtors had commissioned it as a 'speculation' home.

"Two bedrooms and two full baths," Sherri pointed out. "Gas stove in the kitchen, do you like eating pussy?"

Ann Marie's comment, the off-handed statement that had alerted him that his loving wife was unfaithful had spurred him into action. He had yanked the phone book out of the drawer and looked up 'Escort Services.'

Camille, he didn't care if that was her real name or not, showed up two hours later and knocked on the door of the motel room.

"So what you looking for?" she smiled sweetly as she fiddled with his shirt buttons.

"I want to learn how to eat pussy, how to do it right," he blurted out.

Camille was actually surprised at this; nearly all of her clients took one look at her forty two Double D breasts and wanted to play with them.

"Um, okay," she said, then launched into the spiel about the various services and their charges.

"So, two hundred for oral sex?" Cris asked.

"Um, yeah, but I tell you what, you going to want a blow job?" Camille asked.

"No, not really," Cris said.

"How about a hundred, huh?" Camille asked and shrugged out of her thong panties.

"Oh yeah," Camille groaned as Cris pressed his tongue to her bald pussy mound.

"No, no," Cris said, almost angry. "I want to learn how to do this right; I ain't going to learn shit if you acting like I'm doing it right already."

"Oh, okay," Camille said, comprehending.

She spent the better part of two hours showing him how to satisfy her.

"You want to practice, try taking a lifesaver's and stick your tongue into the little hole," she suggested as she took her three hundred dollars, one hundred as agreed on, plus a two hundred dollar tip.

The next night, Cris called a different service and they sent out a 'Toni.'

"You serious, right?" she asked suspiciously when he told her he just wanted to eat her pussy and wanted her to tell him if he was doing it right.

Camille had taught him well and Toni was actually smiling when she left his motel room.

"Yeah, I like eating pussy," Cris smiled. "You like anal?"

"Yeah, my husband's always saying I got the ass for it," Sherri laughed.

Camille had taught him well and Sherri thrashed and grunted through several orgasms before Cris got to his knees and liberally coated his dripping cock with the KY jelly that Sherri had in her purse.

"No, no, I like looking in your eyes when I'm pounding ass," Cris said when Sherri tried to roll over onto her knees.

"Oh I knew you and I was going to be friends," she laughed. "You one nasty mother fucker!"

"Oh now this is nice," Sherri said as she looked around the efficiency apartment. "There's two of them empty right now; what you could do is move the upstairs tenant down here, you know? Rent out the bottom half and convert the upstairs to a two bedroom two bath for yourself. That way, the two tenants would pay your mortgage for you."

"Like I told you when we first started looking, my needs are pretty simple," Cris smiled. "I think I'll leave it like it is, just live down here and rent out the other three; you said two of them are already rented?"

The room was actually spacious, sixteen by sixteen. There was a kitchen in one corner, with a built in table and two chairs , left behind by the last tenant. There was a small refrigerator, a small electric stove and oven combination, and a small counter. The sink was between the table and the counter, looking out a small window that overlooked the parking lot. The small bathroom was next to the kitchen. The closet went underneath the stairs that led to the second floor and also housed the air conditioning unit for both upstairs and downstairs units.

"Uh huh," Sherri smiled as she adjusted the blinds. "Want to see if this one's big enough for what you need?"

"What you got in mind?" Cris asked as he unzipped his trousers.

"Oh, you know I like that hot cock up my ass and ain't nobody eat pussy like you!" she laughed.

Cris had confided to Sandra what was going on; it concerned him that Sherri was a married woman after all.

"Well, I ain't letting her 'borrow' Jimmy no more," Sandra said through pursed lips. "Don't surprise me, though. Ronnie's like this little wimpy guy; does whatever Sherri tells him."

She just smiled tightly when Sherri confided in her that her boss was one good looking man and she was enjoying helping Cris find a place to call home.

Sherri was out of lubricant, so Cris sank his erection into her hot, wet pussy.

"Oh, mother fucker," Sherri screamed out loud. "I'd known you pounded pussy this good, you'd been fucking my box instead of my ass!"

"Bull shit," Cris laughed.

"Nah, hope I do get knocked up; about time Ronnie got off his fucking ass, did some shit around the house," Sherri laughed when Cris asked about using protection.

****

"Don't sit down; you ain't staying," Cris said when Hank Campion came into his office.

"Uh, yeah well um, listen, uh Cris," Hank stammered.

It was hard enough to come in and face the man he had loathed for twenty years; Cris's brusque statement really set him back.

"What you want, Hank?" Cris sighed and looked up from the ledger program on his computer screen.

"Well, as you know, Sophia, she had her a um a stroke and she's bedridden," Hank faltered.

Cris was really making him ill at ease, the way he just looked at him with that passive face.

"And?" Cris finally broke the heavy silence.

"And I uh, we ran into a bit of bad luck; she's at UMC and you know Sophia, rather be dead than at UMC," Hank laughed nervously.

Cris sighed heavily.

"Hank, I hope you ain't here to borrow no money," Cris said and returned his gaze to the screen. "Remember? Ann Marie already done got half of everything."

"Yeah, well, um, she and Nicole..." Hank mumbled.

"Ain't my problem," Cris said and typed on the keyboard. "They're both adults."

"I don't even know why I bothered coming here," Hank spat.

"I don't either," Cris agreed. "I was nothing to you when I was married to your daughter and I know damned good and well if I'd have come to you for any help, any help at all, you'd have laughed in my face."

Hank mumbled curses at Cris and anyone that came in contact with Cris as he wobbled out of the office. Cris watched him and wondered if Hank had fallen off the wagon again; he struck him as being slightly under the influence.

He shrugged his shoulders and completed his entries into the ledger, saved his work, then began to unknot his tie.

"That your father in law?" Sandra asked from the doorway as Cris prepared to dress for his noontime jog.

"Uh uh, he's nobody," Cris said and stretched a few times.

Sandra watched with mild amusement. He had really dropped the pounds and firmed up nicely. Even through the bulky sweat suit, she could see his bulging biceps and chest. His abdomen had slimmed down as well. Playfully, she swatted him on his tight buttocks as he walked past her. She yelped in surprise when he swatted her in return.

"By the way, Sherri says 'hi,'" Sandra said.

"Yeah? How's she doing in, insurance, right?" Cris smiled as he reached the door to the reception area.

"Yeah, I think she might actually do pretty good with the insurance thing," Sandra agreed as she sat back down at the receptionist's desk.

"Good, good, tell her I said 'hi,'" Cris said and pushed open the door and braced himself against the bitter February wind.

****

As if she knew she was being a burden on her husband and daughter and granddaughter, Sophia died that afternoon.

"I hope you're fucking happy, prick," Hank sobbed into the telephone. "Sophia died this afternoon."

"In order to be happy, Hank, I'd have to give a shit about her," Cris said. "But thanks for calling."

Hank was stunned at Cris's callous response. Ann Marie was actually shocked when Hank finally was able to choke out what Cris had said.

"That doesn't sound anything like him," she gasped. "You sure that's what he said?"

Her mother's death was just another domino falling.

When she had fallen in love with Tom, she truly believed that they were building a life together, a life that had all the amenities she desired. Cris had been a good husband, a good provider, but he had not been very exciting of late.

She was able to trade in her Lincoln Continental; it was three years old, and pick up a very pretty Lexus. Tom handled all the paperwork while she and Nicole looked at a smaller model for Nicole.

In the divorce settlement, she agreed to the house in order to leave Cris's 401K plan alone. Jewelry, Rolex watches, designer clothing, all taken care of by Tom.

Then there was the fourteen day cruise; he even brought her parents and Nicole along and everyone was so thrilled to hear about the upcoming baby.

She watched in mild interest as Tim Villeaux entered the dining room and scanned the room of patrons. The man was barely five feet tall; she always thought he was such a funny looking little man. His eyes locked on her and he waddled toward her, his normally pinched features looking even more pinched.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Sampo, really I am," he whispered to her.

"But, but," she stammered, uncomprehending.

This was her home, she had grown up here, how could this man, a man her father owned be telling her to leave, that she was no longer a guest of the West Bayou Country Club?

Cindy's earlier message about canceling Nicole's lesson became a little clearer as well. Cindy had been flustered while trying to explain to her that she was canceling Nicole's lessons, not just today's lesson.

Tom did not answer his cell phone, and when she called his office phone, she got the mechanical recording that announced that it was either temporarily out of service or had been disconnected.

Her Cell phone rang and she breathed a sigh of relief; Tom could straighten this out. But instead, it was Nicole.

She was infuriated with Nicole; she had decided to take Tom's advice and 'experience life' before going off to college. So far, however, Nicole's idea of 'experiencing life' was to lay around the house all day in very skimpy, or tight, or revealing clothing, and bend and stretch and pose in front of her new stepfather.

"My car's been stolen!" Nicole shrilled.

"What?" Ann Marie shrilled back. "Are you sure? Where are you? What happened?"

"I went in and got me some new shoes, mine were getting all ratty and when I came back, it was gone,' Nicole was sobbing now.

"Then what are you calling me for? Call the police!" Ann Marie screamed into the phone.

"Don't yell at me!" Nicole sobbed all the harder.

Ann Marie ferreted from Nicole where she was, instructed the girl to call the police and said she would be there as soon as she could.

"Come on, Tom, damn it, pick up," Ann Marie hissed into the telephone.

But again, she got his infuriating voice mail.

The police were there and Ann Marie pursed her lips; Nicole was wearing the cut-off shorts she'd begged the girl to throw out; they were obscene. The African-American police officer was enjoying the many glimpses he was afforded; Nicole's top was too small as well.

"Yes ma'am, seems Giles repoed it," the other police officer said.

"Repo, what?" Ann Marie gasped, shocked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes ma'am, called it in to get the VIN, the vehicle identification number, and that's when they told us it was sitting on their lot," Officer Ray Holloway informed her.

"Well, this is ridiculous," Ann Marie said and yanked Nicole into the car.

"God damn, Nicole, dressed like a hooker!" Ann Marie screamed at the girl as they drove toward the car lot.

"What?" Nicole screamed back. "I was just going to get me some shoes, didn't see no reason to get all dressed up!"

"Ah, thank you, Mrs. Sampo; see you got my message," John Hargroder smiled as Ann Marie stormed into the sales office, Nicole in tow. "Thank you for bringing your car in; I trust you've gotten all of your personal effects out of it?"

Ann Marie had to sit down; John was very courteous to both mother and daughter but was unmoved by their tears. A quick check of her bank account revealed that she did not even have enough to pay off the three months they were delinquent on the leases.

"But that can't be," Ann Marie stammered, ashen. "We just did a second mortgage and... This is ridiculous; let me talk to them."

The manager was very apologetic but there was nothing he could do; Tom Sampo and his wife had been there that very morning and closed out all accounts.

"Wife?" Ann Marie shrilled into the telephone. "But I'M his wife!"

"I am terribly sorry, ma'am, but there really is nothing I can do," the manager said. "The accounts were in his name, or your name. Now, if they had been in your name AND his name, then..."

It was a last resort; she paused for a moment, then reflected to herself, it wasn't like Nicole had any plans to use her college fund.

She and Cris had carefully planned and put nearly every extra penny into the college fund. When Mikey was born, Cris had asked Benoit Hydraulics for a raise, and every penny of that raise went into the children's college fund. Then when Mikey died, the two hundred dollars had been transferred to Nicole's account. There would be nearly twenty nine thousand in that account now. Cris was such a careful planner and often did without so that his child's future was secure.

The manager was sympathetic but Nicole, with Tom Sampo's help, had withdrawn that money last month. Nicole shrank away from her mother's anger.

"So that's it," Ann Marie said aloud as she hung up the telephone.

The dominoes were falling.

Her mother's death was just another domino.

The funeral was as elegant an affair as someone of Sophia's stature would command. Thankfully, Hank and Sophia had already paid for their funerals, and Tom had not managed to get either Sophia's or Hank's life insurance policies.

Ann Marie touched the floral arrangement; Cris was a good man, sending flowers like that.

The End.