Playing Kissy Face

"God damn it! Give me that!" Joi screamed, flailing her arms wildly.

Brian continued to read her declarations of love and longing. He also read Ricky's words of sexual needs, sexual demands.

"Ever let him tap your ass?" Brian asked Joi over her screams of outrage.

Brian then hit Ricky's number.

"Hey, thought you said dumb ass is in the next room," Ricky said when he answered the phone.

"No, Dumb ass is talking to you right now," Brian said and gasped when Joi bit his hand, hard.

"Ricky! I'm sorry! He grabbed the phone out my hand," Joi cried out.

"Can come get her; her and all her shit will be right outside in, give me ten minutes, huh?" Brian said, again putting his hand on the top of Joi's head.

"You can't; this is my house too," Joi gasped.

"Oh, no ma'am, no it is not," Brian laughed as he ended the call.

He held up the phone.

"And uh, since I'm one paying for this? Think I'll hang on to it, all right?" he said.

"You, you can't, Brian, that's mine!" Joi spluttered.

Brian let go of her head. Joi lumbered to her feet, swinging at him, grabbing for her phone.

Brian backed up, keeping the phone just out of her reach. Joi continued to scream, continued to swing at him.

Then Brian grabbed Joi's arm, opened the front door, and pushed her out the door.

"Brian! I'm, it's cold out here," Joi screamed as Brian shut and locked the front door.

Brian ran to the kitchen door and locked that door as well. He also walked to the rear sliding glass doors and made sure they were securely locked.

Joi hammered frantically on the front door; it was forty degrees outside. Forty degrees is not very cold, until humidity is factored in. With the humidity at eighty nine percent, and a wind speed of twelve to fifteen miles an hour, it was bone chilling cold outside.

Brian found Joi's purse. He took his house key, her car keys, and their joint credit card out of her purse.

'It safe?' Ricky sent.

'Yes, come get me,' Brian replied as he grabbed Joi's heavy coat off the coat rack in the living room.

'Can't' Ricky replied.

'Why not? Need you,' Brian sent.

'Megan?' Ricky replied.

"What? Little mother fucker's fucking my wife AND living with some girl?" Brian asked.

He scrolled through and found Megan's phone contact.

"Hey, Joi, what up?" Megan answered after a few rings.

"Nope, Joi's ex-husband," Brian said cheerfully as he dropped Joi's purse and coat outside of the kitchen door. "Joi! Coat, purse right here!"

He quickly shut and locked the side door as Joi hurried around to the carport.

"Oh, hey, Brian, right? I mean, ain't never met you but, Ricky, I'm on the phone," Megan said.

"Just found out Joi and Ricky been coming over here, fucking while I'm at work," Brian said quickly, knowing Ricky would not hesitate to slap the phone out of Megan's hand.

"What?" Megan screeched in a long wail.

"Brian, please!" Joi wailed, hammering on the kitchen door now.

Brian turned the soup off and took his own cell phone out.

'Kill you,' Ricky sent to Joi's phone.

"Police will be happy see that," Brian laughed. "Hi Catherine, uh, listen, need you come get Joi."

"Uh, no, you break it you buy it," Catherine said cheerfully.

"Catherine, just found out Joi's been playing kissy face with Ricky when I'm off-shore," Brian said somberly.

"You are, oh Jesus, that damned idiot," Catherine hissed.

"And since Mr. Wonderful's refusing come get her and she sure as hell ain't staying here," Brian said.

"Her car?" Catherine asked.

"My car; I'm one bought it, I'm one insuring it, my name's on the title," Brian said.

"That damned idiot," Catherine hissed again. "Fine, fine, give me, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

When Catherine arrived, Brian let Joi and Catherine enter the house, let them get a few armloads of Joi's things. While they were doing that, Brian got the baby car seat out of the Toyota and put it into Catherine's car.

"Brian, I'm..." Joi attempted.

"Joi, don't care. Okay? Just don't care no more," Brian sighed.

"My phone?" Joi asked hopefully.

"Get it to you tomorrow," Brian said.

"Tomorrow?" Joi cried out.

"Joi, just get in the car," Catherine barked.

After Joi and Catherine left, Brian locked up the house then drove to the DeGarde Police Department. A morbidly obese uniformed officer bade Brian sign in, then called for assistance.

Sergeant Leeanne Pyle looked at Joi's cell phone, looked at Ricky's death threats, as well as Megan's death threats that were directed toward Joi.

"What would you like for us to do, sir?" the freckled red head asked.

"Just go put the fear of God into the two of them, huh?" Brian asked. "Really? Just want me a record of them making these kinds of threats should anything happen."

Brian found the charger for the phone and dropped phone and charger off at the Arcenaux home. Brent offered Brian a beer but Brian declined; it was not a social visit.

Joi found out that Brian had removed his own phone number from her phone. Since she didn't remember it, she had no way of contacting him, pleading with him to forgive her, begging him to let her come back home.

"Uh, no ma'am," Catherine snapped when Joi asked her if she had Brian's phone number.

"But I love him," Joi wailed.

"Damned funny way show it yeah, running around with that Ricky," Brent snapped.

While Brian was adding salt to his soup, while Joi was whining and wheedling her mother and step-father for Brian's phone number, Megan was tearfully agreeing to cease and desist with her threats against Joi Louviere.

Ricky, however, was sneering and posturing in front of Officer Brian Jochet. Brian and Leeanne shared a smile as Brian took a quick photograph of Ricky's car's license number.

"Was willing just give the boy a talking to," Brian said as he forwarded the license number to a few of their brothers in blue.

"Boy don't got the good sense just keep his mouth shut?" Leeanne agreed.

They watched as Ricky left a strip of rubber away from the apartment complex. Then Ricky made the mistake of changing lanes on Highway 19 without signaling.

"Aw," Brian smiled as he hit his siren and lights.

Ricky was enraged as he was given his ticket.

"You got to be kidding me," Brian laughed as Ricky did it again; changed lanes without signaling.

"You are fucking kidding me!" Ricky screamed.

"Same thing I said," Brian Jochet agreed.

After the fifth ticket, Ricky figured it out. Sneering, smirking, posturing and preening in front of a police officer wasn't the smartest thing to do. He learned to keep his hands tightly on the steering wheel, speak politely and respectfully to the officer.

"Know insurance is going go way up, huh?" Officer Trevor Bigelow politely informed Ricky as he handed the no longer smirking young man a ticket for performing a 'rolling stop' at a stop sign.

"But there wasn't nobody coming," Ricky pleaded.

"Sign says stop. Don't say only stop when someone coming," Trevor said. "Have a nice day, sir."

"And I ain't helping you pay none of them," Megan snarled at Ricky. "Why you don't see if Joi pay them for you, huh?"

While Ricky was trying to coerce his parents into paying for his eleven traffic tickets, Brian Louviere was happily doing his job. The company had run off the supervisor; when production drops to nearly sixty percent of previous totals, it's not hard to figure out the cause.

Brian was enjoying performing a familiar task. He was also enjoying being free.

He had not realized just how stifled his life had become. His time off of work had been spent coddling, pampering a spoiled little girl, trying to take care of her. Trying to care for her, when she had no interest in caring for herself.

"You smiling like that cause I'm bending over in front of you, Louviere?" Mike Christopher asked.

"No, smiling like this because you ain't behind me while I'M bending over," Brian said.

The men around them laughed and Mike nodded approval. They completed their job, then moved on to the next task.

"Heard you back to fourteen on, seven off?" Mike asked as they worked.

"Yeah," was all Brian said.

He was off-shore when Joi received the papers asking for a divorce. She actually threw up when she saw the papers.

"And what you expect?" Brent snapped as he blotted up the girl's mess.

Eric Greene of Johnson, Johnson & Lambert Law Firm read through the petition. He made a few notes, then faced Joi Louviere and Catherine Arcenaux.

"Okay, it's fairly cut and dry," Eric said. "I mean, this is a 'No Fault' state; he doesn't need a reason to divorce you, Mrs. Louviere," Eric said. "But uh, Ms. Banks did note 'Gross Infidelity' in the petition. Care to shed a little light on that?"

"She was playing kissy face with her old boyfriend," Catherine snapped.

"Just kissing?" Eric said.

"We uh, we fucked a couple of times," Joi said, trying to minimize the damage.

"Well, that would explain the infidelity," Eric agreed. "Mrs. Louviere? Really? I'd go ahead and sign it. The two of you were married for a total of four months, twenty three days. He's offering you a two thousand nine Toyota Camry in exchange for you not going after his four oh one K or any alimony."

"Child support?" Catherine said.

"Agrees to seven fifty a month plus half medical and education and the child will be on his medical," Eric said, flipping to the fifth page of the tick document.

He read the clause and looked up. He studied Joi's face for a moment.

"Says here he'll start paying after DNA test shows he's the father," Eric said. "Mrs. Louviere? There any chance he's not the father?"

"Oh Jesus, Joi, he is, isn't he?" Catherine snapped.

"Yeah he is," Joi protested.

"Then why on God's earth did you, look at me, Joi Angela Marchot, look at me. Brian is, isn't he?" Catherine snapped.

"I said yeah," Joi protested.

"Then I'd sign this," Eric affirmed. "I'm not going be able get you a better deal."

"Can't you, I mean, we can't make him stay married?" Joi asked.

"Sign the papers, Joi, just sign the papers," Catherine snapped. "Not even together six months and you running around on him?"

Joi did sign the papers, then burst into sobs as she realized she was struggling to spell 'Louviere' in her signature. The realization that she'd not even been married long enough to learn her last name brought it all home to her.

"Can you even tell me why?" Catherine demanded as they got into her Nissan Pathfinder.

"Why what?" Joi sniffled.

"Why what? What you think, why what?" Catherine screamed, hands pounding her steering wheel. "Why you would fuck boy think nothing slapping you, yeah Joi I know about him doing that, boy think nothing of stealing money out your purse get him some drugs and you got you a good man and you go fucking that Ricky? Why? You that stupid? You on drugs?"

"I don't know," Joi sniffled.

"Well, going have rest of your life figure that one out yeah," Catherine snarled.

"I mean, he was my first real boyfriend and..." Joi weakly offered.

"And your daddy was my first real boyfriend, Joi," Catherine screamed. "But when he decided he wanted fuck that little Cindy Brown I let his ass go. Didn't go running back every time Cindy turned around."

Joi did not respond, just sat sniffling. With a sigh, Catherine started the car.

Brian was in from off-shore when Joi gave birth to Candace Ann Louviere. He was at the bowling alley with Joe and Paul when his cell rang.

"Hi, Daddy," Catherine said, voice thick with exhaustion. "It's a girl."

The DNA did show that Brian was the father. Joi looked at Brian, hoping that this news would spark a reunion, a reconciliation. One look at Brian's dark eyes dashed those hopes, though.

"Like I said in them papers; keep her on my insurance, Brian said. "But Joi? Be dropping you next ninety days. Need get your own, hear?"

"Want hold her?" Joi asked.

"Fuck no," Brian snapped.

Outside of St. Elizabeth's Trauma Center, Brian paused at the door of his pickup truck. He turned and looked at the gleaming hospital building.

He could remember when all this land had been empty lots, just a big patch of tall weeds. He and his buddies would play cowboys and Indians or soldiers in the tall weeds. Then when the parish would come along and cut the grass down to stubble, they'd play football. They'd keep score, but by the next time they got together, they'd already forgotten the previous score.

Joe was always the running back. He was hard to tackle. Paul had always been the quarterback, even though his throwing arm lacked accuracy.

"Loved that," Brian said, feeling the blistering hot sun on his nine year old back, smelling the drying grass, feeling the stubble underneath his bargain brand sneakers, hearing his friends' shouts and squeals.

Joe had told him he was turning into a real ass hole lately. Paul tried to diffuse Joe's harsh words, but Joe had insisted that Brian had turned into a real ass hole.

Brian had even declined to participate in the company's annual Christmas Charity drive. Every year, since he'd been seventeen, Brian had participated in the Christmas Charity drive, pledging five hundred bucks, and buying a hundred dollars' worth of toys for the kids at the homeless shelter.

This year, he'd told them he couldn't. He didn't give Cindy, the sweet Administrative Assistant any reason, just told her he couldn't.

"Understand; got you that baby on the way," Cindy had said pleasantly.

Brian looked at the hospital building again and sighed as the image of his childhood faded away. Dead End had an ice cold draft and a hot, juicy hamburger. The onion rings were crisp and salty on the outside, juicy on the inside. The four or five gorgeous young women that danced, jiggled and gyrated on the small stage while he chewed through his meal didn't hurt either.

Congratulations; you're a grandmother," Brian sent to his mother.

He did not receive a response, but he had not expected one. He sat and watched in the mirror over the bar as a sweet faced blonde whipped her ankle length hair around, covering her quite impressive chest from view. Silently, he raised his glass and toasted his own reflection in the mirror.

"Congratulations. You're a daddy," he thought.

His second thought was 'whoopee.'

A few days later, Brian drove to the Arcenaux home, to drop off the first of his child support checks.

"One down, two hundred and fifteen to go," he thought as he knocked on the door.

"Hey, man, how you doing?" Brent greeted him cheerfully.

"Want see Candy?" Catherine asked cheerfully.

Brian's first thought was to loudly, forcefully declare that he did not want to see Candace Ann Louviere, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Brian did peer in at the infant. Candy had on a cute little flannel dress and had a pink ribbon taped to her hairless head. She did not wake as Brian rubbed her tiny little hand.

Leaving the Arcenaux home, Brian went to the office and instructed Cindy that on the third of every month, she was to send seven hundred and fifty dollars to Joi Louviere. He gave the woman the address, again confirmed the dollar amount then turned to leave.

"Why you not smiling?" Cindy asked him.

"Huh?" Brian asked.

"Usually you come in here, you all smiling," Cindy said quietly.

Brian opened his mouth and realized he could not think of anything to say. He shook his head and again turned to leave.

"Well, have you a nice day, huh?" Cindy said.

The divorce was granted. Brian read through the pages of legal mumbo jumbo and then read the note Ms. Nicole Banks had included. His attorney was asking if he would be applying for visitation with Candace Ann Louviere.

"Hheellll no," Brian said out loud.

He saw Nicole's email address in the letter head and quickly composed a reply.

Then he went back through the email and removed all the expletives. Reading through it a second time, Brian erased the message.

'Ms. Banks:

At this time, I have no plans to file for visitation with Candy. That might change at some time in the future, though. Should I decide to file for visitation, I will be in touch.

Brian Louviere'

"That a lot nicer than 'suck my dick think I want anything do with that little bitch,'" Brian said and hit 'send.'

That evening, Brian met up with Paul, Joe, and Kerrie, Paul's girlfriend. They reserved a lane and decided to go alphabetically.

"Paul, I know Joe's happy you brung Kerrie along," Brian said as they watched Kerrie manage to knock down three pins.

"Well, yeah," Joe agreed, puzzled.

"Yeah, finally, he ain't in last place," Brian joked.

"You know, you ain't first mother fucker ever gone through a divorce," Paul said quietly as Joe stomped away.

"Huh?" Brian asked.

"You ain't only one ever had him a wife done him wrong," Paul said a little louder. "But they ain't all turned into big old ass holes. Ain't all of them pissing off their only friends, only ones stuck by you whole time this shit was all coming down, huh?"

Kerrie gave a squeal and did a cute little dance when she managed to knock down two more pins. Paul smirked at her as she turned, smiling happily.

After Paul managed a spare, he nodded to Brian. Brian walked up, grabbed his ball and took his stance. Then he turned, grabbed his bag and stuffed his ball into the bag.

"Fuck you, and Joe? Fuck you, and Kerrie?" Brian snapped, then stomped away.

"God, I'm sorry!" Kerrie complained. "I know my bowling's bad, but..."

"Sweetheart, it's nothing about your bowling. It's nothing about you at all," Paul assured her as Brian hit the doors of the bowling alley at a brisk pace.

Brian drove home. After he backed into the carport, he sat in his truck, motor idling. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he shut the motor off.

Somehow, Ricky Hebert did the math. He'd smoked some meth, then did the math; Joi was no longer giving him any pussy, was no longer slipping him a few bucks. He now had fourteen tickets and no way of paying for any of them. He'd traded in his Camaro for five hundred dollars' worth of meth. He and Megan had smoked the meth in a matter of moments. A few hours later, Megan fucked Juan Flores, their dealer for a small amount of meth, which they smoked immediately, and immediately needed more. Megan was now living with Juan. No matter how many times Ricky reminded the stupid bitch that he was the one introduced her to Juan, she was unwilling slip him any pussy, front him any meth.

Somehow, Ricky added it all up and the answer was that Brian Louviere was to blame. He told Matt and Woody of his brilliant deduction and Matt and Woody, also strung out on meth, agreed with Ricky's calculations.

"Fucker owes us," Ricky declared.

They had grabbed Brian as he was leaving the Bargain Bin discount store. Matt and Woody grabbed Brian's arms and Ricky approached, fist balled up.

Brian was not a fighter. The last fight he'd been in was when he was fourteen years old and someone told Leland Setters Brian had called him a stupid n*gger.

Brian had not called Leland any such thing; he had no opinion, one way or the other about Leland Setters. But Leland would not be persuaded to believe Brian and the fight was on.

It wasn't much of a fight. Brian did get in one lucky punch and Leland got in two lucky punches, and then Principal long broke the combatants up.

Ricky swung his fist and Brian swung his leg. Brian's cowboy boot caught Ricky squarely in his testicles and Ricky dropped to the asphalt. Bringing his leg back down, the heel of Brian's cowboy boot caught Woody solidly on his shin. With a gasp, Woody let go of Brian's right arm.

Matt was smart enough to let go of Brian's left arm and scamper away. Brian turned and gave Woody a strong right cross, breaking Woody's jaw.

"Sir? Sir! I done called the police; they on they way," a store employee called out.