Blast Effects

She should not have gotten her hopes up. His only response was another bored-sounding "Mm-hmm."

"I'm going to trade in my old car and get a new SUV."

He reacted only with another distracted grunting noise.

"And a pink Corvette."

Once again, he offered no response or acknowledgment. Julie was ready to throw something!

"Before that, I'm bringing the middle school basketball team here to teach the boys anal sex."

In the same negligent tone of voice, "But, Julie, you don't like anal sex."

"FUCK YOU, NATE!"

"Nah, I'm late for work."

Furious, Julie stomped from the room.

"Asshole!"

Chapter 4: Breakfast

† Friday, November 10, 2023 (one day after the explosion).

At 9:00 in Julie's kitchen, the two Garniers shambled in, looking disheveled but rested. With the phone in her ear, Julie gestured toward the coffee maker and the refrigerator.

On her phone: "Hey Luis, it's Julie. I'm not coming in today, I'm sorry. Well, there's three houses on my little street, you remember? Yeah, well, mine's still here, but the other two burned up last night. No, I'm fine, but my next-door neighbors are staying here with me. They're homeless now, and I'm taking care of them.

"Yeah, it's her, her name is Cosette, and her mom. They are all right, but... Yeah, what's left is uninhabitable. We need more food; they need clothes, everything. So today is a total loss and I'm also going to work from home on Monday and Tuesday, is that alright? Good, thanks. I gotta go, I'll keep you posted. OK, bye."

Putting aside her phone, Julie turned to take stock of her guests. Last night, she had scrounged around for some kind of sleepwear for the Garniers. Sylvie was in one of her old nightgowns. She was seated at the kitchen table, hunched over her cup of coffee, trying to inhale the steam. Her long hair was all awry and fell in wavy curtains on each side of the mug.

Her daughter was only four and a half feet tall, so Julie had simply put her in one of Nate's old cotton t-shirts, which hung on her body like an absurd dress. Fortunately, Julie had goosed her thermostat; now her house was comfortably warm.

"Folks, excuse me, but I'm going to take charge for a bit. First, you need breakfast. I went out early this morning and picked up extra food for us. Cosette, will you set the table? The utensils are in that drawer. I'm just going to dish out the food and hand you two the loaded plates. When you want seconds, just serve yourself from the stove.

"Sylvie, make me a list of your sizes. I'll go to the department store and pick up a couple of casual outfits for both of you."

Cosette burst into tears.

"Everything's GONE!" she wailed. "My phone, my clothes, my books--all of it! I knew we had to move away, but now we're homeless with nothing."

Shocked, Julie asked, "What is she talking about?"

Sylvie reached to console her daughter, but she shrugged off her mother with an angry glare.

"You think I'm stupid, Mom? I KNOW what 'Notice to Vacate' means, tacked up on our front door. It means the sheriff is, or was, coming to EVICT us."

"Uh, you weren't supposed to know about that."

Julie's mouth hung open. She looked at Sylvie.

"Is that true?"

The answer was plain in her hopeless expression.

"Yes, we were behind on the rent."

Julie cut her eyes to her daughter, meaningfully, and then articulated each word.

"We'll talk later."

"Idiot! She's terrified enough already!" thought Julie.

Firmly, "Get up, Sylvie, and take care of plating breakfast for us so nothing on the stove burns."

She stepped around the table and crouched next to Cosette's chair.

"How long have I been with you, Cosette, being your sitter sometimes and being your friend?"

"For three years? Four years? I'm not sure," she sniffled.

"That's right. And, in all that time, almost half your life, have I ever not taken care of you? Am I your good friend? Do you trust me?"

"(Sniff) I do. But..."

"But NOTHING. You are SAFE. Me and your mom are going to take care of you. PERIOD. The sheriff won't come to MY house. I'll bite him if he tries."

This last coaxed a small smile from her wet little face, just as Julie intended.

"Listen, Sette, I'm not going to lie to you. Not now, not ever. You're too smart and too old for any bullsh--, uh, cow-spit. You understand me?"

"I think so. No drooling cattle."

"EXACTLY. Losing your stuff in a fire, that sucks. But it happens, and it's sad, but people get past it, and they come back from it. What did NOT get burned last night are any of the Garniers. And for that, I am very, very, VERY grateful. And so, sweetie, so are you.

"Sylvie, can't you see your daughter is hungry and thirsty? Put her plate down here so she can eat. I cooked it, so you can damn well serve it. And get her some orange juice.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. Before all that livestock slobbered all over your daughter, I was talking about clothes. I just need to pick up a few casual outfits from Kohl's so you two have stuff to wear when you go out in public.

"Later, you can go out on your own to find what you like and rebuild your wardrobes. I have a couple of those gift credit cards you can use immediately for buying things."

Sylvie started to object, but Julie wasn't having it.

"My dear friend Sette had a very bad and scary time last night. I saw her crying. Well, crying time is over. Sweetie, you're safe here now with me and your mother, and you're going to have everything you need. Try not to worry."

Sylvie raised her head and looked directly at her host.

"Crying time is NOT over, Julie. You're being so sweet to us, I can't help but cry. Last night, I was standing on the sidewalk watching my home burn. I was losing hope.

"And then you rushed down your front walk, smiling and happy to help us. I can't tell you how grateful I am. So, I'm going to sit here with my mug and tell you, 'It's my coffee and I'll cry if I want to.' And you can't make me stop, neither."

This last in a petulant childish voice. But Sylvie was smiling with her wet face.

Julie continued then, addressing Cosette. "After breakfast, I want you to make your own list of things you need and also things you want. Start with clothes and go on from there. Now, this is important, Sette. I need you to be specific when you make your list.

"If you put down shampoo, or soap, or toothpaste, tell me which brand. What kind of clothes do you like? What colors? Android or Apple? Honda or Ford?"

Her eyes got really big, then she realized Julie was teasing her, and she started giggling. After they all settled back down, Cosette spoke one word, quietly.

"Lexus."

A little more humor was a welcome relief. When they settled again, Julie continued with her planning.

"Sylvie, Sette, when I get back from shopping with those basic outfits, I need you two to get dressed and go grocery shopping. Buy the things you like and know how to make--at least several days' worth. You all have to help with making the food. Until we figure out your health insurance, for safety reasons, we don't want you to risk eating too much of MY cooking."

Chapter 5: Tycoon Julie

† September 2019.

Skipping the pink Corvette, Julie was commuting to her job in her new Honda CR-V (a compact SUV). Nate had made some phone calls the day after her "middle school team" threats and suggested her for an accounting position at one of his firm's affiliated companies.

Plunging into her new job like a demon, she exceeded her supervisor's expectations in every way. They canceled her probationary period after only five weeks and advanced her to a next-level position. And from there, she earned more promotions at a fast pace.

Sadly, Julie's parents (Gina and Alan Lehman) had died tragically while traveling together with a retiree group. The sponsors of the trip were liable, and their insurance settled with the heirs of the accident victims for substantial sums. Julie received a check for $418,000 and put it temporarily in a separate account, after discussing it with Nate.

"Julie, that money is for you. You know, I believe you could have won a lot more from them in a lawsuit. But that would have taken forever, and then even more time after winning to collect from their corporate carcasses. They would appeal, taking years before they would pay.

"Besides, your new salary and my big promotion in January has raised our joint monthly income pretty high. And, we don't have mortgage payments, thanks to my dad. I already know how you're so good with money. Let's have separate accounts for your investing and see how well you can do with that settlement."

Julie would not leave the funds stuck in a single bank account, because the FDIC insurance limit is only $250,000. Instead, she spread the funds around, diversifying into several unrelated investments. One of her more speculative plays was to buy six Bitcoins at about $8,000 each, almost $50,000 worth.

† April 2021.

After an insane amount of appreciation, Bitcoin values started to drop slightly. Julie decided to quit while she was ahead and she sold all six of them. In 19 months, her $48,000 investment had become more than $315,000!

By then, the Lehman's estate (her parents) had been settled, and their debts were all paid. With the proceeds from selling their property, Julie was now in sole control of almost $2 million in assets.

Chapter 6: Pam

† January 2020.

"I have to ask, Nate, what position did you play?"

"I was a tight end, Drake, but only in high school. I didn't play in college. And, before you ask, I got badly injured before I graduated; that was the end of football for me."

"Must have been bad. Sorry. I got off on a tangent. This is your new office. We're expecting great things from you, Nate. I'm sure you won't let us down. I won't rehash from your promotion letter your new salary and benefits. Here at Apogee-Markham, you're my direct report, we're going to be in frequent contact, and you know where my office is. You remember my administrative assistant, Elena Juarez?"

"Of course, with the long hair."

"Yeah. I asked her husband about it once. He said it takes a half an hour just to wash it all. Anyway, at your new level you also need an admin, I've asked her to join us, oh, and here she is. Pamela Norden, this is Nathaniel Kaiser."

"I'm happy to meet you, Pamela, please call me Nate."

"Of course, Nate, and I'm Pam. I was actually working here last year for Wilma Norris before she retired."

"Really? That's great, you can nurse me, uh, sorry, guide me, ah, to learn the ropes here."

After a couple of silent beats, Drake filled the yawning conversational gap.

"I'd better get back, Elena says I have a meeting at 9:30. If either of you have questions or issues my door is always open."

After he left, Nate looked uncomfortable.

"Pam, I'm sorry, that was a poor choice of words."

"Hey, it's fine. Let's sit for a minute."

There was a small sofa on the side wall of the office, and she gestured for him to join her there.

"You're male and straight, you're going to react. It's not a surprise to me, Nate. I had C cups when I was 13; now they're double D's. I would go nuts if I let it bother me every time they got noticed. Almost everyone does and if they're polite about it like you were, then 'no harm no foul.'"

"Still, I should apologize, Pam."

She smiled, adorably. For a moment, he was dazzled.

"Let's be honest, Nate, OK? I have been watching you closely since I walked in here. You have been doing your damnedest to keep your eyes up and off my chest the whole time.

"That impresses me, it does. You're making an effort so that I will be comfortable. Most men aren't like that. Some of them are just one lip short of all-out drooling on me. And if they aren't undressing me with their eyes (or, God forbid, their hands), then verbally they are being anywhere from crude to vulgar.

"You, Mr. Kaiser, made the smallest little verbal slip and then were immediately contrite. That tells me you are as nice inside as you are on the outside. Oh, uh, my turn to slip. My apologies to--"

"Julie. Although she would agree with you, much to my embarrassment. She calls me her 'trophy husband' when we're out together."

"Oh, that's fun. Do you have a picture?"

"There's one in the box of my stuff on the desk, here, let me show you."

Carefully, he stood and walked over to the desk with his back to her. Discreetly, he checked his suit pants because he hoped he wasn't bulging. He retrieved the framed photo of the two of them standing (taken at a party) and handed it to her.

There was no big bulge, but what Pam noticed was that he had checked himself.

"Hot! He is polite, but he can't help his attraction to my girls. Good thing he hasn't noticed my microscopic bottom and spindly legs."

"Oof! Julie is gorgeous! Oh, my, she is so much shorter than you, though. Do you get teased about it?"

Nate relayed the wedding cake story to her.

"That's fantastic. So pretty and has a sense of humor. But wait, there's more!"

He laughed.

"How did you know? Julie is scary smart. She works over at Yoder-Parker and has been promoted several times. And she invests for fun and makes money at it."

"One more question, then. Any little Kaisers for her to chase?"

Nate's mood changed, and Pam picked up on it.

"No, it hasn't worked out that way. But I want to know more about you, Pam. Is there a Mr. Norden? If not, surely there's a boyfriend."

"I have no attachments. And don't call me Shirley."

"Oh, I guess you're a film snob. I had a crush on Julie Hagerty when I first saw Airplane."

"Let me guess, you were born in about 1982?"

"Close, it was 1983, I'm 37 now. Julie is 31. So how old are YOU, wise girl?"

"Oh, no, you need to guess."

"Hmm, by looks, I'll say 28, and by behavior, 13."

Pam laughed.

"All right, I deserved that. I'm turning 30 in three weeks."

"Tell you what, Pam. I'm kind of anxious to get started with, you know, work stuff. But let me buy you lunch today, and you can probe for more details. To save time, I'm AB positive, I'm registered as independent, neither Democrat nor Republican, and my first car was a Chevy Colorado pickup.

"We can have more of a conversation while we eat. Would that be OK?"

"You're buying, aren't you? After all, I make one tenth of your giant salary."

"I know that's not true, but I am certainly paying. You pick the spot."

They set up on opposite sides of his big new desk. Back and forth, they were passing reports, summaries, and various other documents. At 11:40, Pam noticed that his line of sight was not on the document in his hands, but just over its top edge.

She had been bent over reviewing a report laid flat on the desktop. She understood that this caused her blouse to gape just a little, exposing the gap between her breasts to him.

"I caught him looking! I wonder--"

"Look at the time! We need to go, right now, or they won't have a table. C'mon, get up, let's go! Right now!"

Nate made a strangled noise in his throat.

"Ah, no, I can't. Just give me a minute."

"What's wrong with you? Here, let me feel your forehead."

She darted around the desk to, allegedly, check him for a fever. He had time only to put his hands in his lap, trying to hide his reaction. Which just confirmed her expectations.

She reached for his face, but not his forehead. Instead, she put her hands on each side and turned his head toward hers.

"It's OK, Nate. Really. Like I said."

And then she kissed him, softly and sweetly. Then she parked her skinny butt on the edge of his desk.

"Go ahead and stand up. You can adjust yourself, so we can go. I'm hungry!"

Not knowing what else he could do, he stood and fiddled inside his underwear, so he was no longer painfully sticking straight out against the back of his zipper.

"OK, I'm ready. Sorry for staring at you."

"Accepted. That's it, though. You are only allowed one apology per day, from now on. This is going to be the rule, you understand?

"I have already told you, it's OK for you to look. Because, wait, are you listening? Look into my eyes. Because, Nate, I ENJOY it. Probably as much as you do. No, don't argue. You get stiff, I get, well, never mind.

"If you stop looking, I'm going to worry. Maybe then you will notice all my faults. Don't argue, I said! It's fine. Now that you're presentable, let's go eat."

Chapter 7: Kohl's

† Friday, November 10, 2023 (one day after the explosion).

An hour after breakfast, Julie is standing in the middle of Kohl's, the largest nearby department store.

"This is overwhelming! I'd forgotten what shopping in this place was like. Start with what you know, I guess.

"Let's see, panties in large and 34D bras. Really? Well, she is curvy. Oh, look, these are hot. A matching set in red lace, and then the same thing in beige. Perfect. Theo will thank me. And a sports bra too, just to be comfortable.

"Couple of long-sleeved blouses, one pullover with a v-neck in forest green, one pale blue satin with buttons. Casual pants, navy blue in stretch polyester, and these wool pants in dark gray. Pantyhose, hair clips--yeah, she's done.

"Now for Sette. Panties, undershirts, socks, and pants. Ugh, she warned me about the colors, yuck. I refuse to buy any clothing that's colored Pepto-Bismol pink. Oh, finally, here are some green ones, and some khakis. Finally, here's a two-pack of long-sleeved shirts in good solid colors. Last, a hoodie.

"Oof, I'm glad that's over."

Gathering the string handles of her two big shopping bags, Julie swiveled her hips and smacked closed the SUV's door with her butt.

"Honeys, I'm home!"

Sette took her bag and plopped on the sofa to inspect the merchandise, while her mother took the second bag with thanks for her host.

Julie turned to Cosette.

"I want to set you up now in your own bedroom. You can put away your new clothes in there, even if you don't actually sleep in that bedroom. OK?"

"Sure, thank you. Where is it?"

"Follow me. So, remember, this one's for your mom, the opposite door is the master, that's me. Then this last door would be you, it's the smallest of these bedrooms on the main floor. Is that alright?"

Julie pushed open the door to show another large bedroom with plenty of space around a queen-sized bed.

"Are you kidding? This room is big enough for three Cosettes. If I had friends, I could have sleepovers."

That comment left Julie uncomfortable, but she let it pass without comment.

"I can ask about that some other time."

"That door is the bathroom, which also has a door into the hall for when we have guests. So, you have to keep it tidy with no more than five rubber ducks. We don't want to be frightening any visitors."

"Um, Julie, I need to sit down (sniff)."

"Oh, no! What's wrong? Are you OK?"

"Please, Julie, just stop. I'm OK, give me time. You don't need to be trying so hard."

"I don't understand."

"You know, with the jokes. Overdoing things. I didn't need such expensive clothes. Mom and I have been going to the thrift stores. I'm just a kid who's never had much. I'm not used to this.

"It will be harder when we have to leave and I give everything back. I know other kids at school who are homeless or on welfare. They all live without their dads. Mom won't talk with me, but I know that's where we were headed.

"You've always been so kind to me. I appreciate everything, I do. But I'm, uh, stressed. I'm overwhelmed. Sorry, could I just have a little time?"