Penny Whimsy

It took me a whole day to get all the coins in the bag from New York scanned and identified. Since I now had three weeks until I had to leave, I decided to list them on eBay as soon as possible. Everything should be fine as long as I didn't get any deadbeats. It took a full day to post the listings for the coins, and to prepare all the envelopes and blank shipping labels. All the money would go to my PayPal account and from there to my new offshore bank. Now, I had the weekend to relax.

My Friday lunch with John Smerd was interesting. John was extremely pleased that I had stuck it to Clayton, but he was unhappy that I had gotten nothing out of the deal. It would have been too complicated to explain it to him. Lunch went great and before he left, he gave me the deed to five acres of land on the outskirts of town. He and his wife were leaving for Florida and he wanted to clean house before he left. No good deed goes unrewarded.

Shortly after John and I parted ways, my cell phone rang. Cindy and Sandy were arriving in Nashville in two hours. I had just enough time to drive up there to pick them up. Flights to Nashville were half the price of the flights to Huntsville, and the girls were on a budget. I had no problem getting there or picking them up.

Cindy could not wait to tell me about Letisha. "Advanced Corporate Finance was being taught in the lecture hall, to over three hundred students. In the middle of the lecture, the professor stopped to introduce Letisha to the students. She just showed up, as if she owned the place. She talked to the class for about ten minutes and then announced that she needed two students for a power lunch at the Weston Hotel. We couldn't believe it when she called out our names."

"So did you like her?"

"She is amazing, Dad. How the hell did you get to meet her?"

"Well, she said she was looking for a sex slave and I was her first choice."

Sandy hit me on my shoulder. "That's not funny. Get serious, will you?"

"What did you talk about at lunch?"

"She asked about our classes and school stuff."

Sandy giggled a little. "She had a lot of questions about you. In fact Cindy and I pretty much agree that she was interested in more than a friendly relationship."

"I am over ten years older than her and a couple of dollars poorer. Sorry girls, but she is totally out of my league."

"Dad, she can have any man she wants. Why you? Think about it and give us a clue. As far as we are concerned, you are perfect, but Letisha Rothberg doesn't know you like we do."

"Apparently, your mother didn't know me either."

Things got quiet for a few minutes. My comment about their mother went over like a turd in a punch bowl. It was not my intention to turn my daughters against their mother, and I regretted saying what I did. "I am sorry, girls. That didn't come out right. Your mother is a fine woman and I have no right to talk that way."

"No worry about it, Dad. We understand more than you think."

Things were quiet for a few miles and then as soon as we hit the Alabama state line Sandy's cell phone started to buzz.

"Hello." (pause) "We got in about an hour ago. Everything is fine." (pause) "You are kidding." (pause) "That sounds great. I'll tell him. Thanks for the call. Bye."

I noticed in the rear view mirror that Sandy was giving Cindy a thumbs-up sign. "What was that all about?"

Sandy leaned over the front seat of the car. "Guess what, Dad? Letisha is arriving in Huntsville, Tuesday morning. She said you owe her a nights accommodation and she expects breakfast in bed."

It was flattering to hear the news, but I felt like I was being pressured by Letisha, and now by my daughters. It all sounded fine, and I was hoping that I was up to the task, in more ways than one.

The weekend with the girls went great. They spent Saturday afternoon with their mother, but did not get to meet Clayton. I asked them not to mention Letisha. We sorted through all the stuff they wanted to keep from the house. By the time they left, we had it all figured out. I prepaid the storage on the unit until they finished school. On the drive back to Nashville, they made me promise to try and be companionable with Letisha. When I asked them what they meant, Cindy said: "Just don't piss her off." That was simple enough. They were excited about my transfer to the city.

I still hadn't figured out what Letisha wanted with an old man that didn't even own an Armani suit.

When I got home, it was time to relax with a beer and the Sunday newspaper. There were no pictures of Marcie and Clayton this week, but there was a small blurb that the Keystone Development Company was having problems arranging the financing for a local project. Winter wheat futures had suffered a record drop in price. That was interesting.

I called Terry Davis and asked him to come over. It wasn't lunch, but I figured we could talk over a couple of beers. Clayton Manning had a checkered past to say the least. For the last several years he was either broke or riding high on the hog. He spent a lot of time moving, to stay ahead of creditors and friends who loaned him money. His new project was starting to tank. Backers and investors were disappearing. I never remembered beer tasting so good.

Monday morning turned out to be better than anticipated. The coins that I had up for auction were doing far better than I had expected. Cookson had estimated the value of the coins at approximately three hundred thousand dollars. It didn't look as if they would get that high, but they were well on the way to exceeding two hundred thousand.

In a little over two weeks, I would be a free man. Three months ago, that would have seemed devastating to me, but today I was looking forward to it. The people who bought the house had arranged financing and were ready to close. I thought it was funny that Marcie felt so comfortable with Clayton, that she didn't need any of our joint assets. I wondered if she realized how slippery her future was.

I had a settlement meeting with the people that bought the house at three o'clock. The check for two hundred thousand went straight into my offshore account. They had no trouble with my staying in the house another week. It worked out well for both of us.

The next morning, I got a phone call before I even had coffee. An unknown individual formally notified me that Ms. Rothberg would be arriving at 10:45 am on Delta flight 724. I got there thirty minutes early. Yes, I was a little anxious. Somehow or another, a couple of Paparazzi found out that she was coming, and were waiting outside the terminal. I tried my best to be inconspicuous. I parked the car in the short-term lot, because I was not expecting all the attention. Rather than waiting for me to pick her up, she opted to walk with me to get the car. Of course, the photographers got my license number and the cat was out of the bag. I was not used to the hullabaloo, but it didn't seem to faze Letisha at all. She apologized to me for it on the ride to the house. I couldn't help thinking that when she got off the plane, I had wanted to give her a kiss. Silly old man!

I was embarrassed by the sparseness of the house. Over the last few months, I had gotten rid of as much as I could. What was left were just bare-essentials that the new owner agreed to assume responsibility for, after I was gone. My guest seemed amused at my attempts to apologize.

There was nothing in the house to eat, so we made a quick trip to the local Taco Bell: her choice. I promised her Dreamland ribs for supper. It was nice to be with a woman who had a healthy appetite.

"Letisha, I am glad you're here, but I don't understand why. I figured you would be getting back to business."

"This is business, silly. I understand you are moving to New York next week. You need a place to stay, and I have a spare bedroom available. I am here to help you pack. A truck will be here tomorrow morning to move anything you can't get into your car. No furniture, please."

"Just how did you find out I was moving?"

"That's what I do. If I keep track of the little things, the big things take care of themselves. That's bullshit, but I always wanted to say it."

"Are you conspiring with my daughters?" I tried to give her an innocent little grin when I said that, but it was difficult for an old man to appear coy. Her offer was unexpected, but I couldn't figure out any reason to reject it.

"Of course. Now let's pick up a few boxes so we can get packing."

I felt that she would be more comfortable sitting in a boardroom or a bank somewhere, but she seemed to be enjoying herself just being with me. I still felt a little uncomfortable because of the age difference.

We ended up throwing out more stuff than we packed. She had definite opinions about my wardrobe and refused to listen to my pleas for mercy. Once I was settled in New York, she promised to take me shopping for proper clothes. When we got finished, there were more boxes than I could fit in my car, but not enough for a moving van. I hoped she ordered a small truck.

I kept my laptop and small inkjet aside, to handle the eBay auction items. We were just getting ready to go for supper when a new surprise arrived.

It was an auto delivery van that parked in front of the house. Letisha and I watched as the driver, in a spiffy uniform, climbed down from the cab with a clipboard.

"Are you Gary Simmons?"

"Yeah."

"I have a delivery for you. Where do you want it?"

"What the hell is it?"

"A car. It's from a Mister Ramon Duarte. Is there room in the garage?"

The space in the garage that used to hold Marcie's Volvo was empty. I pointed in that direction and nodded my head. I noticed that Letisha was holding her hand to her mouth and snickering. I am not sure, but I think she was amused at my bewilderment.

Five minutes later, I was looking at a shiny, orange, sports car sitting beside my antiquated Volvo.

"What the hell is it?"

With great pride, the delivery guy said, " That is a 2008 Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder, superleggera model. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you ever saw?"

Letisha was having a hard time controlling her laughter. She wasn't being loud or anything, but she was definitely enjoying herself. I signed the delivery form so that the spiffy uniform could go home. I had no idea what I was going to do with my present, but I knew I was not going to be taking it to New York with me.

"Get in the Volvo, little Miss funny pants."

My guest was still smiling as we backed out of the driveway.

I ordered a full rack of ribs and two Foster's.

"Would you be kind enough to explain what is going on with the car?"

"Ramon went short on winter wheat. Everybody thought he was nuts. When it started to drop, he started doubling up on the contracts. In less that a week, he made over forty million dollars. He was happy about the money, but he was ecstatic about the comments he got regarding his smart move."

"Well, good for Ramon. I just hope he didn't mention my name."

"He wanted to give you credit, but not without your approval. He thanked me for bringing you to the party and asked me for your address. I didn't know he was going to do this, however."

The ribs arrived, and I watched in fascination as Letisha doused several of them with Tabasco, before digging in. God, I loved this girl.

"You know, I am going to send it back in the morning, don't you?"

"I figured as much. Don't worry about it. Ramon will not be offended. He would have gladly offered you money, but probably figured you would refuse it. This way, you will feel a little more obligated to keep the cash."

Because of the Tabasco, we were forced to order a few more beers.

I was enjoying myself and I was not anxious to go home. I would have given anything, at this point, to spend the night in bed with this beautiful, young vixen. I envied the suave, debonair, lover boys who could talk any girl in the world into bed within five minutes. The best I could hope for was a good night kiss. We couldn't dally all night, so eventually; I was forced to drive home.

The next morning was absolutely wonderful. All my anxieties had been for naught. As soon as we had entered the door, Letisha had taken my hand and led me to the bedroom. Because I was a true gentleman, I did everything I could think of to make sure her needs were satisfied first. I was rewarded with the greatest night of sex in my sheltered life.

The breakfast in bed consisted of juice, coffee, and Danish.

"I am sorry but under the circumstances, this is the best I can do."

"It is as good as I could hope for."

Trying to eat off a tray in bed is awkward. After a few giggles and several rearrangements we retreated to the kitchen. Breakfast in bed sounds neater than it really is.

"Letisha, I hate to ruin the mood, but I really am interested in why you picked me? I have very little to offer and you deserve so much."

"I have been burned many times by slick, debonair, lover boys. I will not fall into that trap again."

"Oh, I see. You are attracted to me because I am not slick or debonair."

My guest found that to be funny and give me a slight laugh. "Gary, I was impressed with the deal you made back in New York with James."

"I was just selling some coins."

"Not that silly. I found the agreement you proposed to buy the 'Trust Fund Land' to be intriguing."

"You believe me to a philanthropist?"

"Oh, not at all. I see you as a cunning bastard who took advantage of a unique situation to stick it to your wife's lover."

Of course this brought a great smile to my face. I was amazed at how clever she was and how well she concealed it.

"Was that wrong?"

"No, Gary, it was ingenious. I was impressed and wanted to know more about you at that point."

"You couldn't have possible known what I was doing back in New York."

"I knew what you did, but didn't find out why, until several days later."

"You were checking me out?"

"Of course, I am not stupid."

I have to admit the ego boost was refreshing.

Unfortunately, Letisha had an early morning flight back to New York. I hated to see her go. She left me with a happy heart and a key to her apartment.

The Lamborghini dealer couldn't get down to pick up the car until the next day. That was Okay, because I had no intention of driving it anyhow. The movers came with a small truck and picked up my things to go to New York. Terry Davis called to let me know that Keystone Development was having serious financial problems. It seemed that Clayton had mysteriously lost almost all of his backers, almost over night. Rumors were abounding that some people were calling in markers, which Clayton had outstanding. That evening I got a visit from my almost ex-wife.

"For what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" I couldn't help being a little bit sarcastic.

"I need to talk to you about a few things."

"I am leaving in a few days, but I'll help you with whatever I can."

"I wanted to borrow my old Volvo, but I noticed it was gone. What is that orange car in the garage?"

Things were starting to get interesting. "I am sorry, Marcie. When you said that you didn't want your old Volvo, I sold it back to the dealer. He might still have it, if you want to check."

"Shit." I never heard Marcie use that term before.

"The orange car was a gift, but I am returning it tomorrow anyhow. I can't see myself driving something like that."

"The sticker on the window said two hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. Who would give you a gift like that? Your new girl friend?"

"No. It was a cattle rancher from Argentina that I helped out a few weeks back. It was just to show his appreciation. So, what else can I help you with?"

There was a pause in the conversation. I could tell that Marcie had more to say, but was unsure of how to bring it up.

"Would you like something to drink? I have beer and some diet soda."

"No, I can't stay long."

"How did you get here anyhow? I don't see a car."

"I took a cab."

"Gary, you said you are leaving in a few days. Would it be all right if I stayed in the house for a while?"

"The house is sold. We had the closing yesterday, and the new owners will be moving their things in this weekend. They are letting me stay until Friday, but that's it. What's wrong with the condo by the river?"

She didn't answer that question. There was a short lull and then she asked: "What happened to the money you got for the house?"

Things were really getting interesting now. I was beginning to enjoy the way this conversation was headed. "It's gone. You clearly stated that you didn't want any of it. What money there was, I used to set up a new apartment for when I move."

"Where are you moving to?"

"New York. I got a promotion and a big increase in salary. I have to be there on Monday." I had no intention of telling Marcie that I was going to be living with Letisha. I also had no intention of telling her about the bank account in the Caymans.

"You never told me what happened to the condo."

"It was only leased. The lease ran out, and the owner did not want to renew it."

"Where are you living now?"

"We are staying at the Holiday Inn until Clayton can get a new place lined up."

"Oh, I see." Now I understood why she wanted to move into our old house.

Marcie seemed a little bewildered. She wanted to ask for help, but didn't know how to approach it. I could tell she was in trouble. There was another lull in the conversation.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Can you give me a lift back to the Holiday Inn?"

The first half of the ride was quiet.

"I understand you have a girlfriend. Tell me about her."

"She's not really a girl friend, but more like a business associate."

"What kind of business. You aren't in any kind of business."

"You're right. I am just a produce clerk in a grocery store. I can't fool you, can I?"

Marcie was quiet. She looked out the window and I heard her whisper to herself: "Bastard."

This was the point where I could have released all my frustrations. It was a great opportunity to let her know how much the photos in the newspapers had hurt me. Instead, I just smiled to myself.

She was in bad shape and I was redeemed. I felt bad about it for a moment, but it quickly passed.

I dropped her off at the motel entrance. She walked away and never looked back or said goodbye. I hated to say it, but I felt a small sense of satisfaction.

It was turning out to be a good week. Thursday morning, I unexpectedly received my final divorce papers. They were early, but who was I to complain. There was a picture on the front page of the Huntsville paper of Letisha Rothberg, arriving at the airport. Yours truly was holding her arm. A copy of the paper is delivered free to each of the rooms at the Holiday Inn. Marcie could read it with her breakfast. I was sure that Clayton would explain who Letisha was to her.

I emptied out the safety deposit box at the bank. My seven pennies would come in handy in the near future. I thought that Letisha would ask about them while she was here, but she never brought it up. All our conversations were strictly social. If she was interested in me for business reasons, she never indicated such.

I had 'Buy-It-Now' prices on all of the coins I had up for auction. Over half of them sold at that price. I spent the rest of the day packaging the coins that closed, and getting them ready for the post-office. The rest of the auctions would be closing before noon on Friday. If all the PayPal payments went through, they would all be in the mail that afternoon. Any malingerers would just have to wait until Monday.

Early Saturday morning, I was on the road. Most of the money in my PayPal account was transferred to my Cayman account. I also left a small amount in PayPal in case I saw something I just had to have. The people who bought the house were pulling up just as I was leaving. It worked out well for both of us. The trip up North would take about twelve hours with no delays.