Kindling and Tears

Brian would surely notice five condoms missing from his box of condoms; they bought the 12-pack when they bought condoms. And Yvonne had been dwindling down Brian's access to her body.

So she went out and bought a box of six condoms, tore one from the strip of condoms and threw the extra condom, and the box away, burying both under the coffee grounds and egg shells. Why did they eat so many eggs?

The lacy string of the thong seemed to rasp against her sensitive skin; Yvonne found it annoying. But it was for Roy.

His Facebook page had a current photograph of him in his police uniform. Yvonne had actually masturbated looking at the photograph. Roy had been so handsome when they were in school, but age had only served to make him even more handsome. He had a slightly rougher, gruffer look to him.

"I'm in room 102," Roy texted when Yvonne said she was at the Acadiana Motel.

"Hey, oh wow, don't you look terrific," Roy said, bending to give her a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek.

She turned her face and jammed her tongue into his mouth.

"Hey, hey, come on," Roy said as he closed the door.

"Let me see, yeah, black, that is black all right," Roy said as he looked at her outfit.

"And," Yvonne excitedly said, lifting the hem of her skirt.

"Nice, very nice," Roy admitted and sat at the flimsy table in the corner of the room.

Yvonne looked a little puzzled. She had just shown him that she was wearing a sexy thong and garter belt and stockings for him. He should be tearing off her clothing, he should be ripping his own clothing off.

They should at least be passionately kissing, groping each other.

"Five condoms?" Roy asked and Yvonne stepped over to the table.

"Right here, lover," she happily said, pulling out the strip of five condoms.

"Yeah, come on," Roy said into his cell phone.

A second later, there was a knock at the motel door.

"What? Who's..." Yvonne sputtered as Roy sighed and got to his feet.

He opened the door and let a young man enter the motel room.

"What? We're not..." Yvonne sputtered.

"Yvonne Roberts, you've been served," Richard Boudreaux said somberly as he handed Yvonne a large manila envelope.

"You remember, in school? Y'all voted me 'Most Friendliest?'" Roy said and sat at the table again.

"This is..." Yvonne screamed when she saw that the envelope contained a petition for the dissolution of her marriage.

"Drove Miss Eggleston nuts," Roy almost laughed, remembering their English Teacher's reaction. "It should be 'Most Friendly' or 'Friendliest,' but not..."

"A divorce? Why's he want a divorce?" Yvonne screamed.

"Adultery," Roy said.

"But I, we didn't..." Yvonne said.

"No, but you had every intention of doing it, Yvonne," Roy said quietly. "I mean, shit, what was with that kiss at the door? Told you to wear black, you wore black. Told you to bring five condoms. You brought five condoms. It all shows intent."

"But we didn't do anything!" Yvonne wailed.

"Anyway, guess you forgot who grew up right next door to me," Roy went on as Yvonne sat down on the cheap motel bed, sobbing. "Brian Roberts was my best friend growing up. Man! Hadn't been for him, I would have failed Algebra for sure!"

"But we didn't..." Yvonne repeated.

"And you know what? Friends don't do that kind of shit to each other," Roy said. "Friends don't fuck their friend's wives. No matter how much they throw themselves at you."

Roy stood up. And walked to the door.

"Recognize the room?" Roy asked.

Yvonne didn't answer.

"It's the room you and Brian had when y'all did it, when y'all made love that first time," Roy said.

Yvonne slowly looked around the room. Roy opened the door.

"You sent me that 'Let's catch up' and I got in touch with Brian," Roy admitted. "About broke his heart too, you hear?"

Roy stepped out the door.

"Gave you every opportunity to say no, say you'd changed your mind, that you loved your husband too much," Roy said and lighted a cigar.

He chuckled.

"Ain't that some shit? They don't care, they know you're going to be getting spunk all over the place, but don't want you smoking in their rooms. Anyway, see you at the reunion, huh?" Roy said and sauntered away.

Twenty minutes later, a woman knocked on the door. Roy had left it open but the woman knocked before entering.

"You finish? I clean now,' the Latin woman said.

Yvonne did not answer, just numbly got to her feet and left the cheap room.

She drove home and saw that Brian's truck was in the driveway. Her first reaction was anger; he'd taken her spot, the spot closest to the door.

"Brian!" she screamed, stomping into the house.

"Be out of here in a few minutes," her husband said. "Just packing some clothes."

She could see that he'd been crying; his eyes were red.

"What the fuck is this shit?" she ordered, waving the papers at him.

"Pretty self-explanatory," Brian choked out. "Giving you a divorce; you can fuck Roy, or Dean, or anyone you feel like."

A few moments later, he carried two suitcases to the door.

Yvonne did not notice, but Brian was using the cheap suitcases, the ones an uncle of his had given to them as a wedding present. The last time they'd gone on vacation, Yvonne had complained that she was embarrassed to carry those 'ugly ass things' and Brian had bought her some very nice suitcases.

The reunion started five hours after Brian quietly closed the front door and drove away. Yvonne did not get out her smoke gray dress, did not roll up the smoke colored pantyhose.

She just sat at her kitchen table and alternated between waves of self-pity and raw anger.

It was nearly nine o'clock that evening when she realized that Buddy, Connor, and Delilah were not home.

"Where are my babies?" she screamed into the cell phone when she got Brian's cheerful voice mail.

"At your mother's," Brian texted her a moment later. "Remember? She agreed to babysit them so we could go to the reunion?"

She didn't know how much longer after that horrible day, a day when she did not get what she wanted, but her mother firmly suggested that Yvonne see about obtaining the services of an attorney.

"No, you're not going to stop the divorce, but at least you'll be able to come out of it with something," her mother had said.

Then she looked at her daughter and shook her head in disgust.

"Really? Really Yvonne?" she snapped.

"Really what, Mother?" Yvonne had shrilled.

But she met with Parker Johnson and the man had said he would do his best to fast-track everything.

"You have a house to run, you have children to care for," the man had said.

"Exactly," Yvonne agreed.

Now, Yvonne sat smugly in Judge Marie Robichaux's court. Her shark of a lawyer promised that he would do his best to make Brian Roberts pay five, six hundred dollars child support for each child, plus at least a thousand dollars a month alimony, in addition to the mortgage on their three bedroom home.

"He'll be eating tuna out of the can for the next fifteen years," Parker assured the woman.

"Why only the next fifteen?" Yvonne laughed.

"When Delilah reaches age of majority," Parker reminded her.

Yvonne looked over when Parker suddenly cursed under his breath. She looked past Parker as her husband took a seat, accompanied by a handsome, slightly older black man.

"Fucking Donald Pellichet," Parker cursed. "Of all the mother fuckers out there; he has to get that one?"

Despite his promises, Parker was unable to do much more than sputter indignant responses as Donald Pellichet diligently, methodically outlined Yvonne's actions on the day of the high school reunion.

"There's more, right?" Yvonne said when Judge Marie Robichaux determined that Mrs. Roberts would retain primary custody of the three minor children with liberal visitation rights for Brian Roberts, and that Yvonne Roberts would receive seven hundred and fifty dollars a month, two fifty for each child.

Yvonne looked at Parker Jonson and asked loudly, "What about my alimony?"

"Mrs. Roberts, this court is not in the habit of rewarding adulterers," Judge Robichaux barked, glaring at the woman.

"But how am I supposed to live off of, the house note's eight hundred a month," Yvonne sputtered.

"Counselor, remind your client that the marital home, all assets are to be sold, both parties to split the profits fifty-fifty," Judge Robichaux snapped.

"But I'm supposed to get the house, right?" Yvonne asked, color draining from her already quite pasty face.

This was not how it was supposed to go. Her attorney had assured her, she would get it all.

This was not how it was supposed to go. Roy Richardson was supposed to have seen her nude, fallen in lust with her body and made wild passionate love. Then, he was supposed to realize, he'd never loved anyone quite like he loved Yvonne.

"No; you never contributed to the finances of the union," Parker hissed under his breath.

"But how am I, where am I supposed to live?" Yvonne screeched, outraged yet again with Brian Roberts.

"Mrs. Roberts, might I make a suggestion?" Judge Robichaux said. "Get a job."

"Might I make a suggestion?" Yvonne screamed, outraged.

"Careful, Mrs. Roberts, tread carefully," Marie warned.

"Don't," Parker also warned.

The first two times Carmen Davis, the real estate broker showed up with potential buyers for the house, Yvonne had smirked as the house was a disaster area.

Then Parker called Yvonne.

"Listen, Mrs. Roberts," he spat angrily into the telephone. "Clean the house, make it as nice as possible and get that house sold. Keep pulling your childish antics and that's money out of your pocket, do you understand? The house is going to be sold, whether you like it or not."

With a reminder that it was four hundred dollars every time she spoke with him, Parker slammed the telephone down.

"But where am I going to go?" Yvonne sobbed bitterly.

Dressing in a conservative outfit, Yvonne then called Julia.

"No ma'am," Julia said, voice trembling slightly as she refused to babysit Delilah. "You still ain't paid me last two times, remember?"

A quick check of the household account revealed that Brian had deposited the child support so Yvonne called Julia again and promised to pay the girl double.

"Plus what you owe me for last time," the girl sullenly agreed.

St. Elizabeth's Department Of Labor helped Yvonne fill out job applications, as well as type up and print out resumes. The entire process took roughly three hours, and Yvonne was exhausted when she finished.

"Cash, please," Julia said when Yvonne went to write out a check.

With grumbling, Yvonne did pay the girl in cash.

So wrapped up in her own misery, Yvonne did not notice that the unattractive girl had changed her hairstyle, that the girl's skin was beginning to clear up.

A check of her email showed that she'd been declined. Politely declined, but St. Elizabeth's Public Utilities would not be hiring her.

Another email from King Sanitation was slightly more promising; they'd hang on to her application and resume and should anything open up, they'd call her.

"No, Honey, I'm in a two bedroom condo," Yvonne's mother said tersely when Yvonne broached the subject of moving in with her.

"But it's just until I can..." Yvonne whined.

"Yvonne, when the hell are you going to grow up?" her mother barked. "Huh? When? It's been what? Three? Four months since you decided 'Woo Hoo, let me screw around on my husband.' You've had that long to get on your feet."

Then Brian called her and politely reminded her that she was supposed to pay for half of Buddy's and Connor's education.

"Plus their uniforms," Brian said.

"God damn it, how much, huh?" Yvonne screamed.

"Oh, and I'm changing my plan with PC Nation," Brian went on. "So, you want to keep your cell phone? You're going to have to renew it with them."

Yvonne actually felt like the top of her head was going to pop off.

"And I just got a call from Prentiss; you've missed the last two car notes?" Brian asked.

Brian had been unable to go with her to Prentiss Chevrolet when she'd bought the minivan. So, his name was not on the paperwork anywhere.

"Brian, where am I supposed to go?" Yvonne asked, realizing her situation was becoming more and more dire. "I don't have..."

"Here's an idea," Brian snapped. "Call Roy, or Dean, or any of your other fuck buddies and see what they can do for you, huh?"

She did contact Dean; he'd been pretty persistent in wanting to hook up.

"God damn, them mother fuckers are real?" Dean asked, eyes firmly glued to her chest.

"Watch your mouth," Yvonne hissed; Delilah was in the next room.

He slobbered on her breasts, jammed his condom covered cock into her dry pussy and grunted.

Dean was gone before Yvonne even had time to find her pantyhose.

John Taylor was slightly more accommodating and actually played with Delilah, making the girl laugh.

"So, come on, before Melissa gets home," John said, unzipping his trousers.

"Melissa? Who's Melissa?" Yvonne asked as she prepared to slip her panties down and off.

"Uh, my wife?" John said. "Uh, Melissa Thibodaux? We dated all through school."

Yvonne and Delilah were gone before John had time to zip his trousers back up.

Carmen let her know that she'd had an offer from the last couple that had seen the house.

"Well, that's good," Yvonne grumbled.

The sale of the house actually put twelve thousand into her bank account and Yvonne was able to save her car from being repossessed, switch her phone over to her own name, and pay Brian back for her half of Buddy's and Connor's schooling.

"And Buddy has a dentist's appointment on Thursday," Brian reminded Yvonne as he dropped the children off from his weekend with them.

After the two fillings Buddy had to have, Yvonne realized, she had yet to pay Parker Johnson, and she only had about four thousand dollars left in her account.

She did something she had sworn on her grandmother's grave she would never do; Yvonne moved into a trailer home.

"Rent's only three twenty five a month, plus twenty five maintenance fees," she said to Brian when she informed him of her new address.

"Hey, could do worse," he shrugged. "It a single or double wide?"

"Beats the shit out of me; it's a roof over our head," Yvonne snapped.

"Might want to see how much to buy rather than rent," Brian suggested.

"You're so God damned smart, you fucking do it," Yvonne snarled bitterly at him.

She never even asked him where he was now living, how he was getting along.

The Department Of Labor did contact Siegel Recycling on her behalf. She was elated when she was offered a second shift position with Tuesdays and Thursdays off.

"And I work from three until eleven and..." Yvonne crowed.

"And who's going watch Delilah while you're at work?" Brian asked. "And Buddy and Connor get out of school at three fifteen; where are they supposed to go?"

"But, but it pays eleven dollars an hour," Yvonne whined.

So Brian became the primary caretaker. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, she was thrilled to see her children; Brian, or Julia would drop Delilah off after Delilah had her breakfast and her bath. Then after school, instead of going to Dad's place, Buddy and Connor would walk the seven blocks from school to Yvonne's trailer.

Siegel Recycling was hot, dirty, demanding labor. Yvonne did lose those fifteen, twenty pounds she'd struggled so hard to lose, but she took no joy or pride in this.

"Where's my child support?" Yvonne screamed into the phone when she saw that Brian had not made the monthly deposit.

"You're kidding, right?" Brian asked. "And, stop screaming at me; we're not married anymore."

"No, I'm not fucking kidding," Yvonne screamed at full volume.

But Brian had already disconnected the call.

The few times Yvonne did go on her Facebook page, she had plenty of 'Friends' requests, but these were more appropriately 'Fuck Buddies' requests. Roy Richardson never did respond to any of her messages. Dean wanted a repeat performance but she was in no hurry to ruin a pair of pantyhose on a four second fuck. She typed that message out and never heard from Dean Danitoro again.

x.x.x

When Delilah began Kindergarten, Yvonne, Brian, and Julia formed a mini-parade, following the girl as she walked into the school building. With a wave of her small hand, Delilah turned and walked into her classroom. She was a big girl now; she was a school girl.

"So, what you going do now you won't be babysitting her?" Yvonne asked the blonde girl.

"Same as always," Julia smiled. "Get them up, fix breakfast, then go to school."

"Julia's got just twenty more hours, then she'll be a teacher," Brian said proudly.

"Yeah, well, I would have gone to college, if someone hadn't got me knocked up," Yvonne spat bitterly at Brian.

"Oh good God, Yvonne; what's stopping you now?" Brian said tiredly. "Huh? Your shift doesn't start until three o'clock. You could go from eight until one and that gives you plenty of time get to work."

But Yvonne didn't go to college. She just continued to sit and feel sorry for herself.

And Misery loves company. Especially if that company is a dozen Tornadough doughnuts and a half-gallon of Early's Hand-cranked vanilla bean ice cream, made from all fresh ingredients.

Over the next few years, Yvonne ignored the steadily ballooning face in the mirror. She ignored the fact that every couple of months, she was buying the next size up. Bargain Bin had a nice selection of Plus Sizes anyway.

Then the snap and zipper burst open on a size 20 pair of slacks. Dr. Farbacher was unsympathetic and still refused to do gastric bypass surgery or stomach stapling.

Instead he prescribed diet and exercise.

Yvonne took matters into her own hands and went on a grapefruit and water diet. She 'tweaked' this by eating over the counter diet pills.

It was Buddy that found his mother, unconscious on the bathroom floor of her rented trailer.

Dr. Farbacher told her, in no uncertain terms, her heart, which had been perfectly healthy before, would not stand another episode like that. So Yvonne had no choice but to slowly, gradually whittle pounds and inches.

Then one day Yvonne received a notice for their 15th High School Reunion. There was also an email, and a posting on the High School's Facebook page.

The irony that she was once again wearing a 34 DD bra that her hips were again 32 inches around was lost on Yvonne. The fact that she bought a black lace bra and matching black lace thong panties again was lost on Yvonne. The Bargain Bin clothing store did not have garter belt and stockings, though.

"We got these pantyhose," the young girl suggested. "See? Even got that line up the backs of them."

The dress ended about three inches above her knees; she'd have to be careful about how she sat.

"Like anyone would want to look up my skirt anyway," Yvonne thought as she winced at the ninety three dollars and nineteen cents the outfit was costing her.

She traded her shift with one of her coworkers so that she could go to the reunion that Saturday evening.

"Hey, hey, don't you look nice!" Mr. Watson, the kindly old man that lived in the trailer right across the clam shell drive from her commented when Yvonne climbed into her minivan.

"Thanks," she actually smiled at him, instead of ignoring him like she normally did.

Arriving at the reunion, Yvonne watched some people walking from the parking lot toward the old gymnasium. Some of the people looked vaguely familiar, many did not.

Entering the school building, Yvonne smirked to herself; it still smelled the same. Which was to say it smelled of rubber and sweat.

"Name?" Gladys Erickson smiled.

Gladys had been behind the sign-up table in the entranceway of the gymnasium when Yvonne and Brian had waddled into that Prom fifteen years ago.