The Curse of the Scots Ch. 04

"You have no college training."

"No I don't, but I got very good grades in high school."

He looked from me to my application; I knew it was skimpy, "It says here you're divorced, you live with your mother, and you have a child."

I answered, "Yes sir."

He looked across his desk at me. I know what he's thinking. Here I am with a child, and I'm still living at home with my mother. I know what I look like. I look like a child. I look like I'm maybe fourteen.

His next comment wasn't encouraging, "I see you've been out of high school for several years, and in all that time you've held four jobs, none more than a few months, and none even remotely preparing you for work at a library."

Toast, I knew it, but I had to say something, "Mr. Devereau if you hired me I'd be the best worker you ever had. I can learn. I'm a hard worker when I want to be, and right now I really want to be."

He only stared at me. I felt like a bug.

"I had to fill the silence, "I'm afraid my husband or somebody is going to file a complaint against me. Cayden, that's my husband, wants my baby. If I don't get this job I could lose my child. Please Mr. Devereau I'll do anything. I'll scrub floors. I'll work nights. I'll work overtime for free. You can pay me less money. Please I really need this job."

He was listening. At the time I didn't have a clue. Nobody told me, it would be months before anybody did, but my former husband had already promised to help him get the money he needed to upgrade his branch office computers. All he had to do was find me a position.

He sighed. He sounded bored, "You understand I already interviewed three other applicants for this job. They're all more qualified than you."

I guess I sort of slumped. I knew it. This was just a cruel joke.

Then he added, "However, there is a position of sorts...."

I perked back up, "A position."

He went on, "It's not exactly something the library normally does. The state has a program, a program for people with shall we say 'special needs'. Actually it's a 'set aside' for people with handicapping conditions; those who might be mildly retarded or suffering from some physical disability. You'd be working for the state. You'd only work four to six hours five evenings a week. You'd come in about an hour before the library closed, and stay on till about ten each evening. If you don't drive, there would have to be someone here to pick you up each evening. Everything you did would be of a menial nature, cleaning toilets, vacuuming the floors, buffing the tiles, emptying the trash, a little light lifting of new books and DVDs shipped in for circulation. It's a minimum wage job, and you'd be at the very bottom of the totem pole as it were."

A job, I had a job. So I'd be cleaning toilets, so I'd use a vacuum cleaner, so what; it was honest work. Social Service couldn't take my baby, "I'll take it."

"There's a uniform."

"I'll wear it. I'll clean it myself. When can I start?"

He said, "If you'll give me your clothing sizes I can order your attire. This is Monday. I should be calling you by Wednesday, Thursday at the latest," He stood up. Based on her work experience he doubted if she'd last more than a week.

Mr. Devereau stood up so I stood up too. I held out my hand, "Thank you, oh thank you."

He smiled, "Don't thank me yet."

I skipped out to my mom's car, and jumped in, "I got it."

Inside Matt Devereau made a phone call, "Hello Mr. McLeish...Yes this is Devereau...We have a job of sorts for Ms. Bradford, it's mostly menial, she'll work evenings. I'm sorry it's the best I can do. She'll start later this week, and by the way I want to thank you for your support."

Cayden, still in bed with Caprice, listened and then exhaled. Whew, she got her job, she'd have a routine of sorts, and Devereau would get his computers. He glanced at Caprice, "That was the library. Angie's got a job."

Caprice leaned into me and whispered, "You're a good guy." We cuddled some more and drifted back to sleep.

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Nap time was over.

I lay there looking at the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. How had she done this to me? I was the iron man; nobody broke through, "I guess we better get a move on. I've got you down for 1:00 p.m. at the dentists. I don't have an appointment at the optometrists, but I think if we show up and agree to wait he'll see us. Come on we should get dressed."

Caprice grimaced; Cayden wasn't thinking, "We need to clean up first. I can't go out smelling like ..., he didn't let me finish.

I smiled at her, "How about a shower?"

Caprice followed me into the small upstairs bathroom that adjoined the room. I turned the shower on and turned around, "I only have Head and Shoulders up here; is that all right with you?"

She nodded, and we both climbed in the shower.

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Cayden and I decided to take a shower. It didn't work exactly like I thought. As soon as we were under the water he had me backed against the wall of the shower stall. He reached down and before I knew it he was inside me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him while he gently pushed in and out. I hadn't had an orgasm earlier. In fact I couldn't remember when I'd had my last real orgasm. I was a whore, or I had been. I kept thinking of the things I'd done just a week ago as something that had happened to somebody else. Being a whore meant getting the guy off; it never mattered if I did anything. Oh I faked it, but that's all it was, just play acting. Meg Ryan had done it right in that movie she made.

Now he was inside me again, and I could tell he wanted to do this for me. It was different; Cayden wasn't taking, he was sharing. I felt him go off again; his sperm flooded way deep. I hadn't done anything, but I didn't care. It felt good; it felt good that he was inside me, but it felt better that he was holding me, and kissing me, and running his hands through my hair.

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I looked into those big green eyes; they glistened. I wanted to just stand there with my dick pushed way up in her pussy. I wanted to let the water run over us till it turned ice cold. I asked her, "Did you do anything?"

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I wanted to lie, but I knew I couldn't, "No but it felt good."

He asked me, "Do you normally get off with other men?"

That hurt, but I guess I should have expected it. I told him, "Other men never ask. They usually say something like 'I was great wasn't I', and I always answered 'you're the best', I kissed his chest, "Cayden it's hard to get off if that's all you do, but I want you to know I like the way you are. If I never had an orgasm ever again, I'd be completely satisfied, no I'd be totally happy, just feeling you, holding you, and have you holding me,"

I could see he was disappointed, "Cayden sex doesn't have to be about how many orgasms I have. I couldn't lie to you and say I did something when I didn't. I can't explain how you make me feel. I only know I love having you close to me. I feel wonderful when you're inside me," I took his right hand and kissed his palm, "I don't feel like I'm for sale when I'm with you; it feels good, it feels right when I'm with you, that's all, you're all I want."

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I was disappointed. I wanted her to feel what I felt, "Let me dry you off, then you can run downstairs and get dressed. I'll do the same here, and we'll get to the dentist's, I squeezed her as tightly as I dared and stepped from the shower.

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Emily and Johnny:

Emily sat on her pony. Her pony's name was Johnny. Mrs. Bradford was standing on the porch while Aubrey Ellis walked the little girl around in the front yard. Aubrey was Mr. Ellis's oldest son. He stood a cool six foot four, and weighed a solid three hundred pounds. He'd been a farmer most of his life. He'd served a stint in the army where he'd been an army corpsman, actually a surgeon's assistant. He thought he'd come home and get a job as a paramedic, but Maryland on the Eastern Shore still hadn't quite grown up when he was a younger man. He'd had all the qualifications; his was just the wrong complexion. He had a small farm; most of his money he made selling tomatoes, cantaloupes, and yes watermelons to the retailers with the roadside stands in the summer. In the winter he took wealthy sportsmen out in the marshes where they could hunt ducks and geese. Aurora was his youngest sister.

Aubrey held the reins with the confidence only years of riding could bring, "Now you hold on little girl. Your daddy would be mighty mad at me if you were to fall off and hurt yourself."

"You know my daddy Mr. Aubrey," asked Emily?

"Everybody knows your daddy sweetheart."

"Tell me Mr. Aubrey, who's my daddy."

"Your daddy is a mighty handsome man. He's right well known around here. I guess you see him almost every day."

"Is Mr. McLeish my daddy?"

They were getting close to Mrs. Bradford and he knew how she felt about Cayden, "Would you like him to be your daddy?"

"I don't know, mommy says he's mean, but he doesn't look mean, and he never acts mean. Mr. Keith is mean."

"Emily Bernard Keith isn't your daddy, but I bet Cayden McLeish would be glad to be your daddy."

Emily lost interest, "Look grand mommy. Look at me!"

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Cayden and I got to the dentist's. He took some x-rays, and found two tiny cavities. He used his drill and ground down my chipped front teeth. Then he took some impressions, and said he'd send them out to make temporary caps while the permanent ones would be a little longer. Then Cayden drove me to the optometrists. We had a little wait, but the checkup went smoothly. I was pretty near sighted. He made up a prescription, and Cayden took me to the Walmart to get it filled. I got a pair of black and a pair of turquoise glasses. Cayden said he wanted the turquoise because they matched my hair and eyes but he wanted the black because they reminded him of the naughty librarian. I thought he was silly.

After we did those things we stopped at a Wendy's. We both got a salad. We sat in the truck and talked. I had a lot of questions.

I asked him, "Why did you decide to have sex with me. I thought you were worried about STDs?"

"You don't have any STDs."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do."

I didn't think I did. Vince always made sure we had check-ups, and I had always been extra careful anyway, "Why are you spending all this money on me?"

"I want to."

I asked him, "But why would you want to?" He pulled me over and kissed me, "I guess I'm just a dumb farmer." I leaned over and rested my head on his chest and whispered, "Hee haw," he laughed.

After we finished our salads Cayden asked me, "What do you want to do now?"

Cayden I have these new glasses. I'd like to buy some books."

"Books," he exclaimed!

"Yes, I'd like to reread Victor Hugo's 'Les Miserables', and there's some poetry I'd like to have." He laughed again, this time even louder. We went off to the Gold Coast Mall, and spent most of the rest of the evening browsing through the two book stores that were there. He bought a Tom Clancy and a Robert Grisham. I bought Victor Hugo, some Jean Austin, a big book of American poetry, and some sonnets. The thought occurred to me, 'How did I know I'd already read Victor Hugo?'

Later that night we both curled up on the sofa and read. I couldn't remember the last time I'd done anything like this, but it felt like something I'd always used to do once. I just couldn't remember when or where.

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While we were reading I'd been thinking about the DNA, and wondered if it would do much good to have her DNA. It was still a pretty new science, and you needed to know where to connect the dots. I had Caprice here, but she could have come from anywhere. The best thing I thought would be fingerprints. She'd been a prostitute a long time. My guess was she'd been arrested sometime; her fingerprints might reveal something about her background. I waited until we went to bed. We didn't do anything; we'd cuddled, but no sex. Once I knew she was asleep slipped into the bathroom and replaced the glass cup we'd been using with a clean one. I took the used one, carefully wrapped it in a napkin, and hid it upstairs. Tomorrow I'd find an excuse to get away, and take the cup to the state police.

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Cayden gets a call.

Things couldn't have worked better for me. The next morning Angie called and asked for Caprice. She wanted to meet up with her; she said she had some news. I played dumb; I knew what it was. So while Caprice was off with Angie I went off to work around the farm.

Tuesday and Wednesday went about the same way. Caprice got home and fixed us both dinner. I was surprised at how good she could cook. We'd read a while then go to bed. We didn't make love either night. I had my suspicions about Angie and Caprice. I was pretty sure something was going on between the two of them. I didn't look at it as cheating. I wasn't married to either one of them, and the idea of two women together never bothered me either. Two men together made me uncomfortable, but two beautiful women entwined with each other was a major turn on.

I mean I thought about the man thing. I tried not to be prejudiced. I was straight, but I didn't think it was a choice; people I guess are born a certain way. Who am I to judge?

Thursday night Caprice called and said she was staying over at Angie's mom's. I never thought anything of it until I got a call from Angie around 10:00 p.m. She said I needed to meet her outside her mom's right away. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me she didn't want to talk on the phone, but it had to do with Caprice. That really got me worrying. I was in my truck and on the road in seconds.

When I got to Mrs. Bradford's Angie and Caprice were outside. I jumped from my truck and ran up. Caprice looked like hell frozen over.

She said, "Cayden that man at the church Easter, he..."

"You mean Aaron Giles?"

"Is that his name?"

"He tried to grab me. He knows about me."

"Did he hurt you?"

Angie made Caprice show me her arms where Giles had twisted them. She had to show me the side of her head where he hit her. Caprice and Angie both saw the look on my face.

Caprice told me, "Don't do anything. It's happened before." She knew I wasn't listening.

I looked at Angie and Caprice, "Both of you go back inside," I ran back to my truck. I knew Aaron, and I knew where he'd be. He'd be back at the Wagon Wheel with all his cruddy friends. I never liked Aaron anyway. This was my excuse to take him out.

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I pulled in the Wagon Wheel parking lot. The place was jammed packed. I looked around and saw Aaron's Jeep Cherokee. I went over and looked inside. I just wanted to make sure before I went in. I made a beeline for the front door. I stepped inside. As soon as I got in it got quiet. They were expecting me. I looked around till I found Aaron. He saw me too.

Aaron shouted, "Look it's the Little Jew! What you've come to tell us about your Jewess whore?"

I didn't say anything. I just walked over, and when I got close enough I swung my right fist with all my might. I should have known better. Aaron was bigger, stronger, faster, and much more experienced. He easily countered my punch and landed two of his own. I hit the floor like a stone. Everybody started laughing.

Aaron got me, but I wasn't finished. I clambered to my feet and went after him again. I tried a left right combination. I didn't even get close. He blocked both punches and proceeded to plaster me with a combo of his own. I found myself on the floor again. He'd gotten my nose and my left eye. I could taste the blood as it spilled out of my mouth. I think he hurt a tooth.

Ok I didn't stand a chance, but I had to get in at least one good shot. I pulled myself to my feet again. This time instead of going at him with my fists I charged him. I planned on ramming him in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him; then I figured I'd be able to do some damage. He must have read my mind. Once I got within reach he side stepped me and slammed his right fist into my stomach. Instead of him losing his breath, I was gasping for air. I'd bent down to try to recover. He brought his leg up, grabbed my head and slammed it down on his knee. I went down, then I bounced back and flew backwards ass over tin cup on my back on the floor again.

By then I'd become the laughing stock of everyone in the bar, but I couldn't quit. It wasn't about me; it was about one of my girls. It was at that moment, at the instance I realized what I was doing. Caprice was my girl; she really was. She might be a whore, but I was in there getting my ass kicked trying to defend her honor. I knew I couldn't quit.

Blood was pouring out of my mouth. Both my eyes were closed, my head felt like it had been hit by a sledge hammer, and I couldn't breathe. I got up anyway. This time I had him. He was sure I wouldn't rise again. He had his back turned and he was bragging about how tough he was. I was blind, but I found a chair and swung it around against his head as hard as I could. The chair was a good one, heavy and well made. It smashed into the side of his head like a giant rock. The thing splintered into a dozen pieces. I heard his head split open before I saw it. Blood started spurting out of his skull like it was a Texas oil well. Ok maybe that's an exaggeration. I grabbed a leg from the broken chair and got ready to finish him off.

The bouncer and a close friend of Aaron's was there in a second. He grabbed the chair leg out of my hands and threw me against the bar. I knew I was done for.

To my surprise the bouncer didn't crack my skull. He pushed his fist in my face, "Cayden you made your point. I suggest you get out of here before the police arrive."

I looked down at Aaron. He'd beaten the living shit out of me, but I'd cheated and gotten in one lucky blow with a chair and he was on the floor, out like a light. I staggered out of the tavern. I swear you could have heard a pin drop. Once I got in my truck I picked up my cell and called Mrs. Bradford's. Angie answered the phone, "Angie you can tell Caprice I took care of it."

I don't know how I got home, but when I pulled up Angie and Caprice were out front waiting for me. As soon as they saw me they both started laughing and crying. I think they were releasing a lot of nervous energy. I hurt all over, but I felt like a million bucks.

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This is the end of part four. There are still three more parts. I just hope somebody's still reading. If you are please leave a comment and vote. One anonymous person said he, or she, gave me a one because I hadn't numbered the first part. That was a little disappointing; I hope people rate the story not the packing case.