Lap Dancer

Mrs. Anderson was thrilled to have some help around the place. And it was a bit much at first. Her husband may have only passed last year, but he barely kept up with minimum maintenance long before that.

We moved my bed. Got other basics from the thrift store, some donations from Mrs. Anderson, and a few from other members of their church. It was a lot of mismatch, but it was clean and functional.

I don't know how it compared to a tornado, but we never heard a peep out of Mrs. Anderson about Cris' screaming. I ate her to four orgasms Sunday afternoon before she collapsed. And even then I had to look at her and grin so hard my face hurt.

Under that lovely frilly Sunday dress she had on stockings and garter with a half cup bra... and that's it! The moans I got from her as I was lightly dragging my fingers up and down the inside of her stocking clad thighs just spurred me on even more. She kept slapping at my hand and glancing at her dad at the front of the church. I grabbed her hand and put it on my hard on. I grinned at her soft squeeze and HER groan!

We did get the church buss operational, and I would occasionally get drafted into driving and attending services with Cris. If she was being ornery she would lift her dress sitting beside me enough to give me a peak at her stockings, but not enough to see if she forgot her panties again. Life just kept getting better and better.

Cris spent a lot of time over at my place. We didn't go all the way until about six months later, but it was well worth the wait. I got her worked up enough she roared and flipped me on my back and mounted me. Riding me like a cowboy with those huge tits bouncing to her screams.

Word spread about me working on the buses, and I began getting other side work. Some minor vehicle stuff, but also some conversion van stuff, some travel trailer repairs, even some motor home work.

When it got to the point that about forty percent of my income was coming from my side work, and with her father's permission, I asked Cris to marry me. It was funny, the father of the bride walking her down the aisle, then stepping up to perform the ceremony.

When my side work got to the point I was working almost as much at home as I was at the dealership Cris and I had a talk. We decided I would try and make a go of it on my own. It was the best decision we ever made. I could put more into it, and as a result got more out of it. Within three months I was making as much on my own as I had with the two jobs combined and in a third less hours.

We eventually out grew our downstairs shop and had to move the business into town. And then again into an even larger building. We also 'partnered' with a paint and body shop to do the outside stuff I couldn't. He would send stuff he couldn't my way. It worked out well for both of us.

About the time we moved into the bigger building Mrs. Anderson had to move to a retirement village, so we rented the whole place. When she passed we bought it from the estate.

That was the time we also decided to start on a family. Within two months Cris was pregnant.

When Ali was born I hired a helper so I could spend more time at home with my baby girl. She grabbed my finger the day she was born, and I'm proud to say she had me wrapped around her finger from that day forward.

Life just continued to get better and better. I had the love of my life, my baby girl, the business was picking up to the point I had to hire a second helper, and then a third.

And then came that day. You know the one. The one where every American remembers exactly where they were. Cris and Ali, now a precious six year old, were off visiting a cousin on the east coast. I was doing another project for one of the churches when the news came on.

At first I thought they were reviewing some bad movie. Then I realized it was a live news feed. Somebody had crashed a plane into the twin towers. And then one hit the second tower, and reports of others hitting the ground and the pentagon.

I sat and watched in amazement, and then it hit me. Her cousin worked in the building.

I called Cris' cell phone, but it went straight to voice mail. I started to get worried, hell I just plain panicked. Subsequent calls went to an all circuits busy message.

The next few days, hell weeks, were a blur. I remember just watching and waiting, any time the phone would ring I would jump and answer hoping for Cris' voice. It never came.

He father and I held out hope, I went to church like I never had before. But when we came out from services to see the catholic priest and two highway patrol officers I lost it. They tell me I just screamed and wailed. I don't remember anything until I woke up in the hospital. And even then it was pretty fuzzy.

I stumbled through the services, her father and I barely keeping each other standing. There was lots of sympathy and understanding from the community, but it went in one ear and out the other. I had lost any reason for living.

--

The next three years were pretty bad. I found the bottom of a bottle, and kept right on going. The guys did their best at the shop, and my 'partner' at the paint shop helped them out eventually taking over my shop and paying me rent so I had some income.

I didn't know or care.

"COME ON CONNIE, RISE AND SHINE!"

"Leave me alone." I pulled the pillow over my head to cut out the blinding light.

"None of that shit now, get your ass out of bed and in the shower. You stink." Then she yanked my pillow and the bedding leaving me in my shorts.

"Fuck you!"

"Been there, done that, got the crusty corset to prove it."

"Bitch."

I was being hauled out of my bed and manhandled into the bathroom, and shortly thereafter shoved into a cold shower.

I bellowed and tried to get out, but she was holding the door shut. I got the hot water turned on while calling her every name under the sun until it warmed up.

When I felt halfway civilized I walked out of the bathroom, naked just for spite.

Sally screeched and put her hands up, "I'VE BEEN BLINDED BY THE LEGS!"

"Nag nag nag," I slipped a clean pair of shorts on. "Better?"

She grinned at me. "I can probably get by with just shades, might not have to go hunting for the welders helmet."

I just grumbled. "So what brings your cheery ass over here this morning?"

She just gave me a look. "Try middle of the afternoon Connie boy. It's three o'clock. And it's time to get your sorry ass out of this barn."

"It's not a barn."

"Well it certainly looks like one."

"It's my house and I'll keep it the way I want it."

Sally came to her feet, "BULLSHIT!" she pointed out the window, and I looked without realizing. "That's your fucking house."

I stared at it for a second, my eyes filling with tears. "Noooo, it's her..."

I collapsed again I guess.

I came to in Sally Ann's arms, rocking back and forth. "Shhhh, I know Connie, I know."

"I can't." I croaked out.

"But you can't keep going like this Connie. It isn't right, and it isn't fair to them. Would Cris want you to be like this?"

I rolled back away from her almost kicking to get away. "YOU DON'T GET TO SAY THAT. YOU DON'T GET TO..."

She stood right up and followed me trying to scoot across the floor.

"BULLSHIT CONNIE! I call bullshit."

I stopped trying to get away.

"I know you loved them, but you're not the only one. She was my friend too. But you know what she would say if she could see you like this."

I hung my head in shame, "She'd kick my ass."

"And I'd sell tickets."

I just flipped her off without looking up.

"I know you're hurting Connie. We all are one way or another. But you have to come back to us, come back to what Cris would have wanted, what Ali would have wanted."

My head snapped up and I glared at her, "That's fucking low," I growled.

She looked right back at me. "But is it true?"

We just stared at each other for a while, I finally gave in.

"I can't make you do anything Connie, but I'm going to come by every morning to make sure you're up. What you do with the rest of your day is up to you. Hell, go be a greeter at Wal-Mart for christ sakes."

I couldn't tell her I tried that. Got fired after ten days for calling in sick from a hangover too many times.

And she did, the ornery bitch, she came over every morning and took pure delight at rousting me out of bed. Knowing full well that once I was up I could never go back to sleep.

It wasn't the days, it was the nights. Nights alone without Cris beside me. Without little Ali running down the hall to get in bed with us on a stormy night. Without...

And that was the problem. It wasn't a small town, but it wasn't like living in Little Rock or Jackson. I could get a job as a bouncer that would go until midnight or two. But that was it for me unless I wanted to clerk at a convenience store.

Sally Ann kept after me, and I did finally find something that would get her off my ass. I started driving taxi.

It got me out of the house at night and enough interaction that she left me alone. She did try and entice me into bed a few times. But even those swinging monsters in a bikini couldn't tear me away from the memory of Cris. She did come close flashing her ass at me, remembering all those times way back when, when I fucked it into oblivion, but not quite. I couldn't do that to Cris.

I stuck with it for almost a year, slowly coming out of my self-made pit. It was still hard. I could go for quite a while, and then someone or something would remind me of Cris or Ali. Someone we knew, somewhere we went, some sound or smell.

My salvation came in all places, at the truck stop.

I didn't get very many calls out there, for the most part the drivers were pretty independent. But once in a while, and usually a driver pulling doubles or triples, would need a ride into town.

On this particular evening it was a driver pulling an oversize load. Part of a big wind generator. The other guys in his convoy had already gone into town. He had to stay and get something fixed on his truck and needed a ride to the hotel.

He chatted about most of the same things the other truckers did. His pet peeve like most big rig drivers was smaller vehicles zipping in and out, no regard for stopping distances. The usual.

But then he said something that stuck in the back of my head even though I didn't realize it at the time. He said he almost wished he had stuck to driving escort. He'd still be putzing along at five or ten under the limit. But it would be his own little truck. Go where he wanted to when he wanted to. Not so dependent on the dispatch for the next oversize. Almost no dead heading. Work in whatever part of the country he wanted.

I just agreed with him, thanking him for the generous tip and wishing him well, and went on about my night.

I didn't really think about it that summer, but I did start noticing them. The cooling tower load with a follow car. The big dump truck or bull dozer on a goose neck with lead and follow cars. The house with that as well as four sheriffs' cars. Even just the cars and trucks running by themselves on to the next jobs. Big cars, little cars, trucks, and vans. Some conversions done up nice like we had done in the shop all the way down to the old van with the little window AC badly mounted in the back window and a generator hanging off the back bumper.

It was a rainy afternoon, heavy rain sometimes bringing it to almost zero visibility. I had taken one of the waitresses to work, her car had broken down, and it was time for my supper break.

I noticed the three trucks with the long blades in the lot, but it didn't really register until I went in.

A group of guys all chatting about the bad weather holding them up. I sat and had my supper just listening. The conversation petering out as first one and then another left when their shower number was called.

There were two young guys left, and I got the nerve to ask.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't help overhearing. You guys escort drivers?"

The one grinned, "That's us, glorified baby sitters. But you can't beat it. Getting paid to sit on your ass and follow the rigs around."

They proceeded to tell me about their vehicles. One guy running whatever car he could get. Running it for a year or so until it died and then get another one. The other with a van he converted, adding a generator and an AC for the hot nights. I wondered if it was that bad van chop job I saw last month?

During all this, and amongst my being a little discouraged, one of the older drivers came back to the table and just sat. Not really saying much. When the two young guys headed out he looked at me, then handed me a card. A very nice professional card compared to the desk jet printed cards the two young guys had given me.

"If you're serious about it, and want to do it up right, drop me a line. I can chat with you when we're stopped for the evening somewhere." Then he headed out the door.

Well that was simple and straight to the point.

I mulled it over for several days, then did something I never thought I would do. I went to visit Cris and Ali.

I never went to the cemetery, because Cris and Ali weren't really there. They never found their bodies. They knew they entered the building and never left. That was all they could tell us. It broke the Reverend. He passed a year after they were murdered. I vaguely remember the service through my drunken fog.

I took the basket to the markers. The Reverend and his wife had a plot. She had passed when Cris was four. It seemed fitting somehow to just place Cris and Ali's marker in the middle of their stones. The gray cloudy day seemed appropriate for this conversation.

"Hey Reverend, Ma'am. I need to have a conversation with my wife."

I poured a glass of white wine and set it on her headstone, and two fingers of single malt on the Reverends. I poured another glass of wine for Cris, and some orange cool-aid for Ali.

"You go play with grandpa honey. Momma and I need to have a grown up talk."

"Cris honey, I don't know what to do."

"I love you and Ali sooo much. But I can't go back into our house. Everything I see there reminds me of you and Ali."

I took a healthy sip of my single malt.

"Sally Ann has been by a few times. She says you need to kick my ass. I wish you were here to do it honey."

"I've been thinking about taking another job honey."

I had to gulp my next drink.

"It's... it's something that will take me away from here for a while. Maybe even a long while."

I poured myself another glass and took a healthy drink.

"I've been thinking about trying to drive escort. The web sites say you can drive anywhere you want. All over the country or stay local."

"If I drive for very long, it would probably make sense to sell the house. Maybe get a little apartment or something. What do you think honey? I wish you were here to tell me it was okay."

I drained the last of my second drink when a brightness in the west caught my eye. The clouds were clearing, and the sun was lighting things up... and there was a rainbow. Cris was always wishing on a rainbow.

I broke down crying, leaning on the Reverends headstone, the vision of their stones blurred by tears. "Thank you honey," I croaked out. "Thank you."

--

I had talked to a few more of the young guys, and they were all across the spectrum in vehicles. I was encouraged that I could stay with my explorer to get started. But they were each touting this class or that class to get started.

When I contacted the old guy it was a different story.

"Hello."

"Is this Mike?"

"Yup."

"This is Conrad Coutts, I'm not sure if you remember me. You gave me your card and said to call if I wanted more information on driving escorts."

"Doesn't ring a bell, I hand out a fair amount of cards and hardly hear from anybody. But anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Well I've been asking around and I've gotten a lot of different answers. So I thought I'd see what you have to say."

He laughed. "Yeah, there are a lot of guys doing this, and they all seem to think their way is the best. I'm assuming you've talked to a lot of independents, and a few company guys as well."

"That about sums it up. Some have said the only way to go is with a big company. I ran my own place for a number of years, so I'm not that hip on that option. But starting from scratch isn't the smartest. I've heard about some guy out in Utah that helps out, but it's either go for it or stay away from him."

He laughed again. "First off it's Jerri with an 'I', and she is probably your best bet to get started. The guys that tell you to stay away from her are probably the ones she's fired or blackballed for screw ups. First off, what are you driving now?"

"I have a five year old Explorer."

"Good, that's a good starter vehicle. Second is getting certified. Get a Utah certification. It's good everywhere except New York. You can get New York, but personally I have no desire to be in New York."

I had NO desire to be anywhere near New York. "That's what I've heard about New York. Any suggestion on Utah training classes?"

"There are several out there, but US Pilot Car is the best." He was silent for a bit. "Where abouts are you located?"

I told him, and he said he would be going through in about two days and would give me a call when he was in town.

When I got the call I was a bit apprehensive. This was a big step away from Cris and Ali.

He laid it out for me over supper. Jerri was primarily a book keeper / accountant. She took almost exclusively pilot car drivers and a few specialty truck drivers as dispatch customers.

She also had connections to a local bank and a truck dealership. She acted like a mother hen to a lot of drivers. "And before you get any ideas, she's fifty four and totally devoted to her husband. She thinks of all of us as the children she could never have."

I just smiled, I knew several older couples just like that.

"So what she does is help you go up through the ranks. Don't have a lot of spare cash I'm assuming."

I just nodded, not even wanting to think about selling the house.

"So what she does is help the guy that's been at it for many years get a new truck through a dealership friend. That truck in turn gets sold to a guy that's been in it for a while but want's something bigger or nicer. That in turn gets sold to a guy that's only been in a few years in his own little vehicle. With me so far?"

"Makes sense."

"So that guy that's buying his first real pilot truck has a fair amount of equipment that he will no longer need with the new truck. You coming in cold would have to go out and buy most of that brand new at brand new prices. She puts that guy, and guys like you, together. You get decent but not brand new equipment at a reasonable price, and he gets something for his old equipment."

"Sounds like a win-win for everybody."

"Exactly. Now on the business side she'll take care of all your tax paperwork, banking, credit card, mail and such. She operates as a mail drop for those of us working for her. Her nephew is the banker, and I've never had a problem in eight years. You can use someone else, but it's a lot easier dealing with someone that knows our business." He sat back looking at me a bit, "So, still interested?"

I thought about it a bit. "Well it's about the best option I've heard so far."

He smiled, "And probably the best you ever will." He took a card from his pocket and flipped it over and wrote a phone number on the back. "Give Jerri a call, tell her I gave you her number. I'll warn you, she will do a thorough background check on you. If you're hiding anything, don't even bother."

I took the card tapping it on the table a few times. "I have a lot to think about, thanks for the information." We shook hands and I went back to my taxi.