Maxine's New Life Ch. 07

lit7 21-25

21 Sunday morning coming down all over me

I opened my eyes, then immediately closed them again. I tried to process how I felt and where the hell I was. My mind did not want to work at all. I tried to force it to be rational, but nothing happened. I just lay there in stupor. The first thing I realized was that it was not my bed. It was far too large, soft, and smelled too good to be mine.

Then I got this feeling that I wasn't alone. Maybe it was the odd perfume, or after shave, it was hard to tell the difference, that gave it away. Maybe it's the breathing that wasn't coming from me, or maybe it was the feel of skin pressed against my naked ass. That Sunday morning it was definitely skin. Since I didn't feel a penis, or boobs, he or she had to be sleeping turned away from me.

I don't really mind being held, and I don't mind not being held, what I mind is not knowing who is holding or not holding me. Before I made an ass of myself, I tried to remember what had happened the night before. I remember Jen's stupid party, and I remember the Cop Out. I even remember the invitation by Anya. So odds were good that I was in the fancy bed and breakfast downtown. Did that mean Anya was beside me, or did she sell me into slavery after she got me drunk.

I decided I just had to know, so I turned to the person sharing the bed with me. The person was not Anya or anyone else I knew. I had gotten drunk and gone to bed with a stranger. Very nice, at least odds were the person wasn't a sexual sadist, since it was a middle-aged woman like me. Well, she wasn't exactly like me. She would have been gorgeous, if she were about thirty pounds thinner. I do not mean model gorgeous, I mean movie star gorgeous. Blood hair, full lips, big boobs, complete with big brown nipples, and wider hips than any model. I know all this because she rolled toward me when I rolled to her. She appeared to still be sleeping.

I tried to slip from the bed, but she awoke. "Wellm good morning, how do you feel?" she asked, in a warm husky voice.

"I would be a lot better, if I knew where I was and how I got here."

The woman had a beautiful laugh, as well as a beautiful body. "You are at the Hazelwood Inn. As to how you got here, that was arranged by our mutual friend, Anya."

"I must have been terribly drunk not to remember anything." I said.

"To be honest, you were pretty out of it, but I also gave you something to help you sleep. Sometimes it causes temporary amnesia. It will only last a few hours, then you will probably remember more than you want."

"Oh, why more than I want to remember?"

"The tea I made for you also dampens inhibitions. That is not why I gave it to you. I gave it to you because Anya said you needed to rest and clear your mind."

"So I did make an ass of myself?"

"Not as far as I am concerned, but you might think so when your memory returns."

I reassessed how I felt and I had to admit that I felt perfectly fine physically. I wasn't tired or hung over. Except for the gap in my memory, I felt the best I had in weeks. I took a good look at her, she was naked and I was in her bed. I didn't know her, but I knew me.

"Did we have sex?" I wasn't smiling.

"Yes Dear, but I assure you that it was your idea."

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a moment. You are sexy as hell, I can imagine anyone, man or woman, who wouldn't want to have sex with you. I would like to know how it happened though."

"Don't worry, I promise you will remember in a few hours. I would really rather you remember it, than for me to tell you."

"Okay, but was Anya part of it, or was it just me and you."

"You will remember it all I promise, but for now, Anya left you here with me for safekeeping."

"Okay, but did she know what would happen?"

"She knows me from her work and you by reputation. That's what she told me anyway."

"She isn't bi?"

"She probably is, but I'm not sure she knows it yet."

"She just goes around rescuing drunks and playing matchmaker?"

"Something like that," the woman admitted. She gave me a long meaningful look then pulled the sheet back. "Oh one thing I have to tell you, Anya made me promise to tell her all about your tattoo."

"Was that the charge for her moonlight gig as a pimp?" I asked.

"Well to be honest, even drunk out of your mind, you would have been worth whatever she wanted."

"Believe it or not, I have heard that before."

"Oh I believe it, now show me your tattoo and then come back to bed."

I turned so that she could see the flag on my back just above my ass. "Ah a butt stamp, very nice. Now come to bed." It wasn't a demand, but it was a little more firm than a suggestion.

"Don't you have to do the breakfast part of the bed and breakfast?"

"I have a couple who run the inn day to day. I'm more the strategy person."

"Family money?"

"How did you know?"

"This place might make enough to pay its own way and to pay the couple, but I doubt that you can pay a mortgage and have enough left for yourself."

"Let's say my mom and dad weren't thrilled to have a daughter who had girlfriends instead of boyfriends. They agreed to give me my inheritance early, if I promised to stay away."

"Damn, too bad my family was poor. I stayed away for nothing," I said, as I slipped into bed with her. I tried to live up to my abandonment the night before.

I kissed her while running my rough hands over her smooth skin. I kissed and licked her neck while my hands wandered over her body. She moved, telling me without words when she was ready for the next caress. Her body was gently vibrating when she pulled my face to her breasts. I licked her nipples and gently sucked them into my mouth. First one, then the other, found its way into my warm wet mouth.

I had a finger buried inside her warm wet cavern and my mouth filled with her right nipple, when she said, "You are every bit as good sober. Just as Anya promised, you are quite the whore." Now you would think that would turn me off, but I really wasn't turned on, so there was no mood to break. What I did wonder was how Anya knew I was a good little whore. I didn't think too many women knew that. Sure a couple of her cop buddies had heard the stories about me and the intern no doubt. That wasn't something to recommend me to the bed and breakfast lady.

When she was ready, she put a hand on each side of my head and pushed me down her body. I did as she demanded. I found her clit in my mouth, even while two of my fingers were still inside her. When she came, it was with a moan and gasp that was a little frightening. That gasp was similar to the sound some people make when they pass into the next world. I hoped that I hadn't given her a heart attack.

"Oh God, you are the best lover I have had since I left Boston," she said.

"Thanks," I stood up and started to dress.

"Don't you want me to make you cum."

"No thanks, I'm not really a morning person."

"Then why?"

"I pay my debts," I said, with a smile. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Oh shit, I never did introduce myself. I'm Margie and I know you are Maxine."

"Yes, that's me. Well, Margie, I have to be going. I have things to do today, even though it is Sunday."

Margie pouted, then said, "You can come back here anytime you like. I will give you the same special rate." She giggled like a schoolgirl.

When I arrived home, it was to find the place just as I had left it, a total mess. No one had magically come in to clean the mess. I swept, mopped, and dusted before I sat down to enjoy my pity party. I relived the last couple of days and saw how out of control my personal life was becoming. Okay, it was my sex life that was out of control. It seemed as though I had forgotten how to say no. When I was in the military, I knew what kind of trouble I would be in if my escapades became common knowledge. I was a lot more circumspect back then. I also knew when to say no thanks. I seemed to have forgotten more than just how to keep things quiet.

I was enjoying the sex at the moment it happened alright, but I was paying for it with some kind of regret almost instantly. It was hard for me to lay any of the guilt off on anyone else. I went into each of the situations, if not knowing exactly what would happen, at least knowing what would most likely happen, None of those predictions would have been for a good outcome. Nonetheless, I plowed right ahead with the foolishness and the expected happened. Pity party on a dreary Sunday afternoon,

My latest little adventure was very worrisome, indeed. See, I understood Margie. She was a bored little rich girl looking for a distraction in the small town in which she found herself trapped. I could almost believe that she didn't drug me to get laid. She drugged me so that I could get a good night's sleep, sure she did. I could understand and almost forgive myself for doing it. I was drunk. Right, that's a real good excuse and one I didn't use often or anything ... Okay, if we weren't a 100% rational, then were at least half assed rational.

All that said, my real concern was Anya and maybe even Blevins. Anya was a cop and she set me up. 'Sure drink all you want, Max, and I'll see that you are safe.' Now if Anya had been in that bed, I wouldn't be a bit worried. If that was the case, her motive would have been simple lust. I could understand that easily. Since she wasn't there, and Margie said Anya wasn't doing women at all, why the hell had she delivered me up to Margie. Was it to control or gain influence with Margie, or to use me for some kind of weird plan of her own. Then the question became, 'What did Blevins know?' It all just ran round and round in my head. I was thinking I should contact Anya and just fucking ask her. The next thought was always it might just all quietly go away.

There was another question that kept going round and round in my head. Who was Anya, and what exactly did she know? What made her think that I was willing to go along with her plans, whatever they really were?

One other thing that concerned me was Margie's acceptance of my characterization of Anya as a pimp. Her comfort with it seemed a little strange. I would have expected her to contradict me. She seemed to accept that I would do exactly as she wanted without question. It seemed to me that Anya might have promised her just that. Okay, maybe the drunken drugged Maxine wasn't an issue. The problem for me was that the Sunday morning Maxine still wasn't any concern to Margie. I mean she fully expected me to do her bidding, no matter what it was. Why was that, I asked myself? I tried to read them and their motives all afternoon. I finally gave up. I just washed the fuzz that passed for my hair and went to bed early.

22 forgive yourself

Sunday turned into Monday and I was grateful. I opened a new book when I woke alone on Monday. Not only did I heal fast, I also was able to deal honestly with painful things, then forgive myself, and move on. That's what I did before I got out of bed on Monday morning, forgive myself.

Bits and pieces of Saturday night came back to me as I showered. I had a memory, true or false I couldn't swear to, of Anya leading me to her car. "Now, Maxine please be nice to this lady. There is more at stake than you know. I know you are pretty plastered, but be nice to her if you want to be my friend." I had no idea what she had meant. I might have known at the time, but it was part of that purple fog.

I was drying myself when I remember Margie saying to Anya, "She isn't young, is she?"

"No," replied Anya. "I have it on good authority that she is very enthusiastic. You said you didn't want any trouble. The young ones are nothing but trouble."

"True, well it's the thought that counts anyway," Margie said.

I was pretty shaky and had no idea why. It was possible that Anya had drugged me at the Cop Out. It was just as likely that I drank way too much without any help from anyone. The details of the sex came back while I drove to the office. I hadn't been too worried about the sex itself, since I didn't have an bruises or lash marks. I also didn't have any memories of biting heads off chickens, so by the time I got to the Hardee's drive thru window, I felt pretty good about Saturday night. I still didn't know whether there was anything I needed to forgive Anya for, but time would tell.

"Take your order, please?" the clown said to me. Okay, it wasn't really a clown head at the drive thru, but it is a common humor point we can all share.

"Two sausage biscuits," I replied. The drive from Hardee's to the office was much shorter, than the time it took the girl to put two pre-made biscuits into a paper bag. When I opened the car door, this huge black and tan dog came from some bushes. I had no idea where the dog slept or where she went the rest of the day. I knew only that she had been waiting for me every morning since my return home from the road trip. The first morning she gave me a, 'Why don't you feed me you fat bitch' look. That first morning I gave her my sausage biscuit. Since then, I had been buying her one of her own. Every morning she would finish the biscuit and be gone before Ed arrived.

"Hey, Max, do you sleep here or something," Lucas asked, as he entered the office with a paper cup filled with coffee.

"No, I don't sleep here. As a matter of fact, I usually don't sleep well anywhere."

"So how was your weekend?" he asked.

"It was just fine. How was yours?"

"Fine, but I'm not the one who had a date with someone half their age."

"It's a good thing. If you did that would make you a pedophile and just begging for a vacation at central prison."

"You know what I mean. Did you have fun at the college bar?"

"Sure it was fine, but if you want details you are going to have to find what's his name."

"Hey, you two, you are in early," Ed commented, when he arrived.

"I'm not early and Lucas is just on time for a change." I laughed, since we had agreed that there would be no office hours, so he couldn't have been late.

"So who you gonna chase down this week?" Ed asked.

"I have no idea. I do know that we are going to be serving papers, since the new court term starts this week."

"Oh hear ye, hear ye." Ed said.

Everyone seemed to be in a good mood for a Monday morning. I had no idea what hat gotten into them. I did know who had gotten into me. "Yeah, something like that," I replied.

"I am going to suggest that you fill out the papers and get a license, then run an advertisement in some of the legal rags." Ed said.

"I already run ads there," I replied.

"Do it for skip trace, that's what we call it. Bring em' in dead or alive, but that's a little dangerous."

"Write up what I should say, meanwhile I'll see if Blevins and Jen will reference me for a license."

"How about me?" Lucas asked.

"You come in as an intern," I said. "I do know a little about how it all worked," I said, in answer to the questioning looks from them both.

"Okay, then you two better get to work. I'm going to call my friends in Tryon."

"Ed, you don't have any friends," I suggested.

"No, but I'm on speaking terms with my peers, who all happen to hate the thug."

"Well, Lucas would appreciate all you can do for him," I said smiling.

"By the way did Skeeter show up this morning?" Ed asked. I had mentioned her and Ed was a big time dog lover. He had been an avid hunter when young enough to tramp through the forests.

"She did indeed," I replied.

"How come I have never seen her," Ed asked.

"If you get your lazy ass here ahead of me you would. I don't think she cares who feeds her."

'You might be surprised about that. Dogs can be picky, I don't know about feral ones thought. You still don't know where she sleeps?"

"I have no idea, nor do I know where she spends the rest of her days. I hope she has a family, but she doesn't appear to have anyone."

"Then damn it, let's get her some help." Lucas said, as if he had a clue about anything.

"Sure, let's call the animal control officers. They can hunt her down, capture her, and put her in a shelter cage, where an adult dog has about as much chance of adoption, as I do of getting married again. It's also about the same chance as you being killed by a suicide bomber in downtown Aster, or Ed getting laid." I was on a roll.

"Then there is hope," Ed said, smiling.

"Then we give her till the end of the month, then one of us adopts her." Lucas said, very defensively. "Come here and look."

Lucas, boy wonder, had rigged a security camera over the front door to the office. He had the video of me driving up, Skeeter walking into the picture, then taking her breakfast and disappearing.

"She is a big one, even if she is skinny. Did either of you notice a collar?" Ed asked.

"I couldn't tell from the video," Lucas suggested.

"She doesn't have a collar. Look, let's give it a while. She seems to be doing okay. Sure she is a little skinny but I'm working on that."

"Come on, Max, one sausage biscuit a day isn't enough for her," Lucas said.

"If she wasn't finding more food, Son, she would be here all the time." Ed said, as he walked back to his desk. I nodded my agreement.

For the next two hours, I sat around trying not to talk about my personal life. I got two calls for service. The papers wouldn't be ready for pickup until the afternoon, so it was more trying to avoid talking.

Then out of the blue, Helen walked into the office. Yes, Helen the lady who cooked for Jennifer's Party.

"Well hello, Helen, what can we do for you," Ed asked. It was his office after all.

"I need to see Maxine, if that's okay, Mr. Martin."

"Of course it is, Helen," I said, as I stood. "Would like to go somewhere a little quieter?"

"That would be good," Helen said, avoiding my eyes. She was guilty about something; I hoped she hadn't drugged me Saturday night as well. If she had, it would be like. 'Murder On The Orient Express'. Who doped Max? Why everyone doped Max, of course.

Once we were in the safe room, where we stored papers and my firearms collection, I asked,

"What can I do for you, Helen."

"Maxine, I feel real bad that I lied to you."

"About what?" I asked. I could not imagine anything of consequence which Helen could have lied about.

"You asked if I had heard from Sue and I said 'not since she left town.' That isn't exactly true."

"Oh do you know where she is and how she is doing?" I asked, a little tentative about the whole thing.

"Not really, but I got a letter four years after she left home. She said she was in trouble. When I read that, I just shut down. I read the rest of it, but I just didn't care. She had broken my heart so many times."

"What kind of trouble was she in?" I concentrated on what I could help with. I was lousy at personal relationships.

"Something about checks and stuff, I didn't really understand. The gist of it was she was going to prison. She wanted me to contact her because she had a baby. She wanted me to take the baby while she was in prison."

"I see." I didn't really. It was just that any question I asked was going to sound like an accusation.

"I didn't answer her. So I never heard from her again."

"Would you mind if I asked why you didn't respond. The child was your grandchild, after all."

"She also was the daughter of some black thug. Sue said her daughter was half black and only a thug would refuse to take care of his child. Plus Sue had to be involved with some sleazy people to be going to prison."

"Well, those are all valid points and I can't say what I would have done. The question is now, what would you like me to do?" I knew that I was going to regret having asked, but what else could I have done.

"I want you to find my daughter and my granddaughter," she said, hopefully.

"Helen, I doubt seriously that I can. It's been twenty years."