Peggy Swings Ch. 03

Friday 12:08 PM

She was early. She was always earlier than the other two ladies that made up their local chapter of the Blue Hat Society. Sitting in the far back corner booth of Al's Diner she would usually savor this quiet moment to herself and take this time to go through a mental checklist of what she felt they needed to try to accomplish as a group, but today her mind was elsewhere.

Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. All in the span of less than three months, the order in her life was replaced with confusion that was interrupted only by moments of chaos. One choice made as a couple, one decision to strengthen their marital bond and it was now hard for her to discern what was really true or not. She stared into her glass of iced tea and stirred the slice of lemon around with her straw fascinated with how quickly everything just tumbled around.

"Oh, Peggy, we've gone and opened Pandora's Box," she sighed thinking on all the events that had taken place.

Reluctantly agreeing to meet men that her husband had selected to be her paramours, none of the encounters had gone as they either had expected or even imagined they would. Yet, she still had now had two of the most intense sexual experiences of her life and neither was with the man she had married. She wouldn't even classify her first two agreed meetings as anything sexual at all.

Charlie was the first man they had met and he flopped and rolled on and around her body in failed attempts at penetration until he unexpectedly orgasmed on her thigh. He then acted as if her and her husband weren't even in the room and offered no apology nor gave the standard excuse men give for ejaculating early. Contented only with his own sexual release, he never noticed them leaving his hotel room afterwards.

The second man they chose to meet resembled her husband and she was genuinely excited and aroused by him, but Brett hardly touched her before concocting an excuse to leave - both men humiliated and left injured her self esteem.

Her only expectation for the third man her husband chose was punctuality. She wasn't expecting him to be younger. She certainly wasn't anticipating to have the best sex of her life. She wasn't expecting the man to do all that to her to be black.

She looked out into the parking lot of the diner and thought about the black stranger and how he made her feel after that first night: equating her voluptuousness with sexuality, adding his dark color to her paleness and marveling in the contrast, and reigniting her long dormant hunger for sex.

"Where is the answer to all this?" she asked and continued stirring her drink wishing she was somehow psychic and the swirling lemon could take the shape of a tea leaf.

She closed her eyes and thought on how the stranger also caused her to suffer by leaving her with no subsequent contact. He left her mind to substitute fantasy into the gaps that his black dick should have been filling and caused her lust to fester and grow into something so uncontrolled and impulsive that it blindly led her down the path of a dead end street.

She removed the straw from her drink and watched as the tea, the ice, and the lemon all quickly slowed and settled in the glass to a complete stop.

"This is what I have to do with my life," she concluded. "I can't close Pandora's Box, but maybe I can walk away from it. I don't want my life circling like an out of control merry-go-round. I can stop the straw from stirring."

She looked up to see Miss Carol and Jeanne both finally arriving into the diner donning their distinctive blue hats. Jeanne had a smile from ear to ear as she and Ms. Carol made their way over to the table and sat across from Peggy right as the waitress came over to take their order.

"The usual, ladies?"

Jeanne nodded her head in approval after seeing no one else at the table object and said, "Yes, thank you, Elaine. A root beer float for me with a glass of water and a Diet Coke for Ms. Carol, please."

Jeanne, at 55, was the youngest and lone widow of the three having lost her husband to cancer a few years back. It was her responsibility to pick up and drive Ms. Carol to their weekly luncheon.

Ms. Carol was 72, never married, and took pride in donating most of the money needed for whatever community activity the group would decide on funding or to support.

"So, what are the plans for the birthday girl this weekend?" Jeanne excitedly asked Peggy.

"Oh, nothing much. Will is coming into town later today and it will be nice to see him. It's been a year since he's been back home to visit. I'm so looking forward to seeing him again."

"Oooh, I wonder if he'll have a big birthday present for his mom? Do you have any plans to go out on the town for a nice romantic dinner with your husband? What kind of birthday cake do you want this year? Buttercream frosting is the best! I like..."

"You do know that I've had birthdays before, right?" Peggy chuckled before Jeanne could continue peppering her with more questions.

"Yes, but every year is special," argued Jeanne. "Don't be a stick in the mud on this day. You're not wanting even one candle on your cake?"

"No," Peggy said, mildly annoyed at the suggestion that she was against celebrations and anything fun, "I'm not going out to dinner, having cake or a party, or doing anything romantic. It's not even my birthday until Monday. We're going to relax at home and enjoy Will's company. That's it."

"I love birthdays!" Jeanne exclaimed, "I pick out a different color every year as my birthday theme and I buy myself a gift three months in advance and have it wrapped and put it in my closet and on my birthday I wake up and I open it. I love surprises!"

A loud clanging at the front of the restaurant interrupted everyone's conversations and Jeanne rose and turned to see what was happening before Peggy could properly explain to her the meaning of the word 'surprise'.

At the entrance of the diner a man was hitting a spoon against an empty glass.

"Excuse me, good patrons, I'm so sorry to interrupt your fine dining experience, but I lost my grip on my car door and placed a small dent in the car parked next to me. Does anyone here own a blue CR-V?"

Jeanne turned to Peggy and whispered, "Isn't that your car?"

Peggy just sat silent with her eyes fixed on the man as Jeanne turned and waved her arms, "Yoo-hoo, Mister? Over here!"

An anger welled up in Peggy that she had tried to temper ever since the last time she saw her black lover. An anger at being tricked, ambushed, and fucked to exhaustion. The stranger always moved like some sort of haunting poltergeist since she had met him: surprising her in her bedroom, infiltrating her dreams, and popping out of dark spaces unexpectedly, but always leaving her body knowing that what she experienced was real.

He had fooled her husband and kept her off balanced by continuously changing from being generous to jealously vindictive. He was at times faceless and was still able, since their first meeting, to remain as one without a name. She was a grown woman who didn't need surprises in her life either in the form of a birthday party or a lover stepping out of the shadows in a dingy alley and she certainly did not appreciate an intrusion here and now among her and her friends.

The black gentleman walked to their table and looked at Jeanne and said, "I'm really sorry about putting a ding on your car. Please, allow me to offer some sort of compensation."

"Oh, it's not my car," Jeanne said giggling and then pointed across the table at Peggy, "it's hers."

"Thank you for coming in and telling me but I'm not really concerned. I have insurance. That's what less clumsy adults use to take care of inconveniences that pop up in their day to day life," said Peggy dryly without even looking up at the man. "My husband and I," she emphasized, "my husband and I write annoyingly trivial things like that off. Now, if you could please leave as we have business to attend to."

"Are you ladies a part of the Blue Hat Society?" the man asked.

"Yes! How did you know? Have you heard about us before?" wondered Jeanne enthusiastically.

"I have! I sometimes find myself with access to that thing called the world wide interwebs and I get to read up on things. And it was also, um, you know..." the man pointed upwards, "that blue thingy-thing sitting on top of your heads. Kind of a dead giveaway, but...". He then inched forward and raised his hand to the side of his mouth as if he had important information nobody else in the restaurant should hear. "But otherwise, you look very, very inconspicuous with your large blue hats. Your secret is safe with me, trust me."

"You're funny. Would you like to join us for lunch?" Jeanne asked.

"Why thank you for your hospitality," the man said and promptly sat down on the corner edge of the booth next to Peggy, unceremoniously nudging her inward, as he now sat across facing the other two ladies.

"It's rude for someone to impose themselves on others without letting them know their name," Peggy frowned towards Jeanne, still refusing to acknowledge the presence of the man. "And, if said person had seen anything online on our group, as they claim, they would certainly know it's an all female affair. Despite any misguided invitation. No men, period."

The man turned to Peggy, reached into his wallet and said, "You're right. A proper introduction is in order. How rude of me. Ladies, here's my business card."

"Black Rooster Upholstery," Jeanne read out loud, "I like the image of the rooster standing on the top of a crown crowing. It says here on your card that your name is B.B. Christian. Is that... is that like B.B. King?"

"Ding, ding, ding! I think we have an honest to goodness Rhythm and Blues fan here at this table!" the man clapped and cheered.

Jeanne lowered her head in an attempt to hide the sheepish school girl grin she had on her face from being complimented.

"I'm glad you liked the logo! I designed it myself as a reminder of how I wanted my customers to feel. And my parents did raise the bar of expectations a bit by naming me after the great guitarist and singer, but please, ignore the formality on the card, all my close friends simply call me 'B'.

"Just B?" Jeanne asked.

"Yes, I'm not accomplished nor famous enough to B squared. Just yet!" he laughed.

"Upholstery?" Peggy said smugly. "Doesn't sound like there's much profit in that kind of business."

B tilted his head towards Peggy with a raised brow. A vein twitched down the center of his forehead but was quickly replaced with a warm smile that wiped away any sign of irritation. He then looked toward the front register and raised his arm attempting to get the attention of the waitress.

"Well, that's Peggy, and right here's Ms. Carol, and I'm Jeanne. Not many folks would admit to scratching another car nor try to make amends for doing such a thing like that in today's world. We're all glad that you came in to tell us about it," Jeanne eased in. "Aren't we, Peggy?"

"I've said that already," Peggy grumbled under her breath and focused her attention instead on looking for where the straw she had removed from her drink had rolled off to.

"Jeanne, thank you. It's a pleasure meeting you ladies. Ya know, my Mama tried to raise me right and I always try to be like Jesus..."

"Jesus?!" Peggy snapped and turned to finally look at B. "Folks who start a sentence like that more often than not end up sounding less like Jesus and more like a conceited ass! But, please, do continue."

"I'm sorry but have we met before?" B asked confused. "I'm sensing some bit of anger."

"Peggy Louise! Why I never!" Jeanne declared admonishingly. "Please, B, ignore our friend here and continue. Can I? Is it alright if I call you that?"

Elaine came over with a glass of water for the new guest to the table and offered a lunch menu to peruse but B declined and instead asked for three slices of pecan pie.

"We've already ordered," Peggy said sternly towards B, "and maybe, Jeanne, yeah, I am a slight bit upset. Upset that our time is being wasted by someone who's invoking the name of the Savior as a way to be revered for causing property damage!"

"Have you ladies ever had pie before a meal?" B interjected.

"No," Jeanne said leaning into the table, happily admitting to her naive innocence as they continued on oblivious to Peggy, "but it sounds absolutely decadent."

"Oh, it is!" B said with a devious smirk as he reached over to mockingly smack Jeanne on her hand. "It is!"

"Jesus!" Peggy exhaled deeply, rolling her eyes in aggravation.

B stopped smiling and his face turned serious. He rubbed his temples and straightened himself up to address the table.

"It's Peggy, am I right?"

Peggy sneered at B and placed her hand under the table into a clenched fist.

"I do try to be like Jesus, as silly as it sounds, because that's also a part of my namesake. I also strive to be kind, loving, and considerate," he said, sliding his unused straw towards Peggy. "Do not be fooled by my soft voice. I've been known to carry a big stick. And though I'm still a work in Christian forgiving progress - I think I'm still not one many would like to tussle with in a back alley."

Peggy pursed her lips together and her nostrils flared as her eyes seemingly matched the color of the accessory on her head as B suddenly became more emotional as he continued speaking.

"That's why, why I, that's why I fa fa..." B buried his head in both his hands as his voice cracked and stuttered under the weight of the feelings he was trying to convey, "I fa fa felt! Felt the need to come in here to inform who, who, whomever the person was what I da duh did to their car. Always being honest, I guess, is the ka ka kuh cross," he sobbed, "the cross I must bear."

"You poor thing," Jeanne cried.

B spaced apart the fingers on his hand to wink across the table to Jeanne and Ms. Carol, "I'm just a simple man," he blubbered, "trying to walk in the footsteps of Christ." He then perked up and turned to Peggy with the biggest, toothiest smile he could muster, "And that makes me into the conceited jackass you see before you now."

Peggy visibly remained fuming as B now sat up grinning.

"There is money to be made in the upholstery business," he continued happily, "I come in someone's home and, using my distinct expertise and a little love, will knock the cobwebs off the unused, add color to, and bring back to life any neglected or antiquated furniture you may have just collecting dust around the house. It's a very satisfying business for me and my customers."

Peggy's thin patience had now ended and she spoke up in an attempt to refocus the group, "Are we really here having to listen to this load of..."

"Wait, I'm not done!" B said tersely at being interrupted and looked away from the other women to again speak directly to Peggy. "Most of my business comes from word of mouth. So, when I make a promise..." B paused a moment and cleared his throat before continuing. "When I make a promise, I keep it no matter what. Can you understand that? Because it appears that you don't. But that is how my business stays profitable." B now shook his head in disbelief, "And here you are refusing to take any kind of payment for your car from me. Amazing! Will you at least let me pick up the lunch tab for you and your friends?"

Jeanne looked at Peggy with a gracious smile and gently nodded her head approvingly.

"No," Peggy again scoffed, "we have our own money."

B frowned and stood up from the table just as Elaine returned with the servings of pie.

"You're leaving?" Jeanne asked.

"You've now denied me twice. Maybe your name should be Saint Peter instead of Peggy," B lamented. "Jeanne? Ms. Carol?

I still have some business to attend to in your beautiful little town. Hopefully, we may meet again under a less accidental circumstance, but I'm going to leave now before I grant your friend here a third time to deny me before the setting of this day's sun."

"But..." Jeanne pleaded.

B reached into his wallet and pulled out a 20 dollar bill, "Elaine, is it? This is for your hard work and kind service." B then pointed towards Peggy, "She will be paying for the pie!"

Peggy gathered up B's business cards, raised them up over her outstretched arms and defiantly ripped them into shreds, letting the pieces rain down on the table as she looked directly at him.

"Now will you leave us? We have important matters to attend to!"

Peggy turned her head to glare at Jeanne, daring her friend to correct her rudeness. She then looked back at B with the biggest, toothiest smile she could muster and said, "Please."

B walked away from the table and as he reached the diner door he spun around so Peggy could see his hand tapping against his chest displaying three fingers.

A quiet fell over the table as Elaine stood awkwardly smiling and holding a can of whipped cream to top the pie that she sensed no one before her now had a taste for.

"Ya know," Ms. Carol cheerily began, surprising everyone at the table and breaking the uneasy silence left in B's absence, "if I didn't know any better." She paused and dipped her fork into her slice of pie and aimed the sliver pointedly towards Peggy, "I'd say that man right there has a liking to you."

Jeanne's face turned beet red and Peggy's hand knocked her glass of tea over the countertop as the slice of lemon twirled off the edge of the table and spun wildly onto the floor until it disappeared under the diner's jukebox.

Ms. Carol casually placed the morsel of pie into her mouth, slowly savoring it's flaky crust, "Mmmmmmmmm, now that's a damn fine tasty piece of pecan pie. I like pie."

Friday 8:05 PM

"C'mon, Mom, you don't have to do the dishes when I'm here. I didn't come all this way to celebrate your birthday to see you do chores."

"I've always cleaned up after you kids," Peggy said.

"Yes, kids! I am not going to stomp my feet and make a fuss about loading up the dishwasher anymore. Go sit and relax. Dad and I can clean up the kitchen."

"Sorry, but you're on your own on this one, Will. I'm taking my little slice of cake here and I am off to relax in my recliner," his father said.

"What? You're acting like it's your birthday! You're not gonna even help me here, Pops?" Will said as his father smiled and left the kitchen.

"I appreciate you volunteering but I really don't mind cleaning up."

"I know you don't, Ma, but I'm kinda glad that we're alone right now because I needed to ask you some things. I needed to ask some questions about..."

"Will?" his father yelled from the living room, "Come quick. That reporter I was telling you about is on."

Will looked over his shoulder towards the living room and then looked back at his mom with his lips twisted as he struggled with wanting to finish his question but not ignore his dad.

"Go and be with your father. It won't take me but a minute to clean up and then I'm going to go take a quick shower and then I will come back out and we can all relax and watch some TV, alright? We've got all weekend to sit and chat."

"Alright," Will replied.

Will walked up and stood beside his dad now seated on the edge of the recliner, barely containing his excitement for the woman onscreen.

"There! There she is!"

"Donna Greggs here reporting with Channel 25 News and we're speaking with the neighbors of a man now missing for over..."

"Did I not tell you she's a looker?" his dad asked.

"Eh, she's okay, Pops," Will shrugged.

Peggy finished cleaning the kitchen. She loaded up the dishwasher, swept the floor, and then placed three plates on the table for breakfast in the morning all in under 10 minutes. She then went to her bedroom, locked the door behind her, undressed and got into the shower.

Getting under the beating hot water of the shower put her at ease and allowed her mind to decompress the day. She soaped her arms and washed the upper part of her chest. She lifted each breast and washed the spaces under them. They felt heavier, bigger, and she made a mental note to get fitted before buying any new bras.