Reciprocal Factoring

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

**Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find miss steaks.

*.*.*.*

Annie Flynn saw him through the plate glass window of the Newhart's restaurant. Her heart still gave a little skip when she saw Michael Priestly. He was so handsome, with his dark curly hair, tanned square face, and broad shoulders.

It had not been Michael's good looks that had caused the divorce. It had been his treacherous,

Unfaithful dick.

Annie Flynn had not liked it one bit when her husband and his older brother Matt Priestly announced that they were going to Mexico for their annual Thanksgiving fishing trip. To Annie, Thanksgiving should be a time for family, for being together in the warmth of their home. Especially since Annie was expecting their first child.

Annie Flynn knew she should be grateful that such a handsome young man had paid her any attention, especially with her flaming red hair that hung limply to her ankles, her narrow shoulders, bone thin limbs, pointed nose, protruding ears, and heavy matte of freckles.

Annie had not even had large breasts when Michael Priestly had asked her for a date. She had a 28B Chest. Men, well, most men seemed to drool over large breasts, but Michael had told Annie that her breasts were perfect.

"Well, thanks to Momma's big boy, who's Momma's big boy? Are you Momma's big boy?" Annie sang to William, her eight month old son. "Yes, thanks to Momma's big boy, Momma's now got a 30C, yes she does!"

Annie had once had a high school boyfriend explain the size chart to her. "A? Almost. B is barely, C is capable. D is Dandy! Double D is damned dandy, E is enormous and F is Fake," he had guffawed while roughly squeezing Annie's small breasts.

Shortly after graduating from high school, that boyfriend had decided he didn't want to waste time on barely and found himself a stripper that was damned dandy. Even if Damned Dandy was mostly silicone.

Then Michael had come along. He had assured Annie that her B stood for beautiful, not barely. He made Annie laugh when he told her that her former boyfriend would soon find out that 'DD' stood for 'Drooping Down' and not Damned Dandy.

Henry Flynn, Annie's father had wholeheartedly approved of Michael Priestly. Michael came from a good family, Michael was a college man, Michael had ambition. Michael knew how to use a shotgun, a rifle, a fishing pole.

When Michael had asked Annie's father for Annie's hand in marriage, it was hard to tell who was more excited, Annie Flynn or Henry Flynn. The wedding was a beautiful occasion, held in St. Richard's cathedral, the same Oakleaf, Texas cathedral that had baptized Annette Elizabeth Flynn nineteen years earlier.

On their wedding night, Annie did not see what was so wonderful about sex. It was uncomfortable, messy, and ungainly. Her new husband seemed to like it, though. He kept saying how beautiful she was, how lucky he was that she had agreed to marry him. He felt like the luckiest man in the world that she was his wife.

By the time they returned from their honeymoon cabin in the Smoky Mountains, though, Annie knew what the big deal was. She liked sex almost as much as Michael did. She found she had a real knack for performing oral sex and savored the taste of her husband's semen

Anal sex was just painful, and frankly, a little gross. Michael seemed to like it a great deal,

Though. His hands seemed to find their way to Annie's bony buttocks often.

"That'll be for special occasions," Annie quietly told her husband.

"Hey, saw you naked," Michael said. "That's a special occasion you ask me."

"Really, really special..." Annie smiled happily.

"Hey, saw you naked," Michael repeated. "That's a really, really...

"Shush," Annie laughed and kissed him.

And when they found out that she'd, they'd conceived during their honeymoon, Michael had actually wept for joy. Her parents and his parents had thrown a backyard barbeque celebration that had lasted for hours.

Upon returning to the small apartment they were renting, Annie agreed that it was a truly special occasion. She still didn't like anal sex, but had laughed happily as her man grunted and bellowed his pleasure.

Now, Annie sat in her car, staring at the handsome Michael Priestly through the plate glass window of the Newhart's restaurant. She watched as Michael toyed with a chocolate malt, toyed with the wrapper the straw had come in, shoved his hands in his pockets. He kept looking around, then he'd start with the fidgeting again. Cup, then straw wrapper, then hands in pockets.

Annie shut the engine off and got out of her mother's car. She then opened the rear passenger door of her car and pulled her baby boy, her beautiful, wonderful, perfect baby boy out of his car seat. He greeted his mother with a wide open six toothed grin.

"Yes you are!" Annie praised. "You are Momma's big boy!"

Annie grabbed William's diaper bag, slung it over her shoulder with her leather purse and made sure the doors of the car were securely locked.

"Mother Mary, give me strength," Annie muttered, turned, and walked to the heavy doors of the Family restaurant.

Cheerful Christmas music played faintly over the restaurant's PA system. There were paper cutouts of snowflakes and bells and reindeer scattered about the restaurant's walls. A Christmas tree sat to the left of the counter; Annie smiled. The ornaments were replicas of hamburgers and French fries in their containers and drink cups with bent straw protruding.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Michael happily greeted them when he spotted mother and child.

It was the first time Michael had seen his son up close. Annie's mother had been Christian enough to call Shirley Priestly, Michael's mother, let Shirley know of her grandson's birth. Shirley had then called Michael and let Michael know that Annie had given birth at Collier Hospital, in Lowridge, Texas. Michael had raced to the hospital, had gone up to the maternity ward, and had seen William Flynn through the plate glass window of the viewing area. He had seen the wrinkled, bruised child through the window for just a few moments.

Standing in front of him in the Newhart's restaurant, this was the first time Annie had seen Michael smile since that Thanksgiving week. Matt and Michael had smiled as they kissed their brides in parting. Then the two men had flown out of the small airport for a week of deep sea fishing off of the coast of Mexico.

Annie and Chelsea, Matt's wife, had wiped at their tears as the two brothers walked away. Then, as the two Priestly brides walked toward their cars, they shared pregnancy tips and pregnancy woes.

Annie had at first been a little put off by Chelsea Priestly; after all, the woman was African-American. But as she got to know the woman, Annie began to see that they had much more in common than they had differences. Both were staunch Catholics. Both believed that family was the most important thing, next to God. And both believed that peanut butter cups was the perfect food.

"Chocolate and peanut butter, girlfriend, what else you need?" Chelsea had asked.

"I know that's wright," Annie had laughed.

That happiness had come crashing down shortly after seeing their husbands off. A few days later, Annie's father had called Annie, his anger quite evident.

"Need get your butt to my office, right now," Henry had spat, his anger palpable through the cell phone.

"Why? What? What's wrong?" Annie had quaked.

Had something happened to Michael? Was Michael in any danger? Did he need money?

"Just get here," Henry had said.

Annie knew her father had the end of a cigar in his mouth, was chewing the tobacco to a spittle laden pulp. He rarely lighted the cigars, but he did chew his way through two or three cigars daily.

At her father's office, Annie was introduced to Roger James. The scrawny young man had pushed his coke bottle glasses up his nose, introduced himself as Dr. Roger James, husband, ex-husband of Paige Woods.

"Who?" Annie politely asked, seeing the distress on Roger's face.

"Your husband's girlfriend," Henry snarled.

"My what?" Annie had gasped, uncomprehending.

The first photograph showed an attractive blonde woman with her arms around Annie's husband's neck, her lips on Annie's husband's lips. Annie recognized the shirt.

She had fussed at Michael, had begged him to find a better shirt. The loud Hawaiian shirt just looked gaudy, trashy in her opinion.

"Should see the one Mattie bought," Michael had laughed as he snipped the price tag off of the shirt. "A hundred times worse. But, Baby, it's a tradition."

The next photograph showed Annie's husband with his hand on Roger's wife's buttocks. Michael's wedding ring was plainly visible in the photograph as Michael cupped Paige's delectable bottom.

There were more photographs. Annie did not look at them though. She silently handed the stack of photographs to Roger and looked at the crucifix hanging on the wall behind her father's head.

"I uh, those were just in the lobby," Roger said. "They uh, they got on the elevator and..."

"Thank you, Dr. James," Annie quietly said.

Then Annie lurched forward and threw up, just managing to reach the wastebasket. Her father strode to his bathroom and fetched a cool washcloth for his daughter's flushed face.

Roger wished the angry father and anguished daughter well, and left. He then crossed their names off of his list and drove to meet with Stanley Meyers, father of Chelsea Priestly.

After meeting with Stanley Meyers and Chelsea Priestly, Roger met with the parents of Paige Woods. They quietly apologized to the young man. His final step was to meet with Jonathon and Shirley Priestly, parents of Michael and Matthew Priestly.

Neither parent was especially surprised when Annie and Chelsea both applied for dissolution of their marriages. And neither Jonathon nor Shirley were supportive of Michael's or Matthew's behavior.

Henry and Faye, Annie's parents went with Annie to the hospital when she went into labor. Since she was once again living with her parents, this made sense. For nearly nine hours, she sweated, sobbed, grunted and whimpered and prayed. With a final scream, one that had the big, strong brave Henry Flynn sobbing, Annie gave birth to William Henry Flynn.

William was Henry's middle name. Annie did not tell her daddy, but William was also Michael Priestly's middle name. She didn't love Michael, in fact, Annie was fairly sure she hated Michael William Priestly, but he did give her the most perfect little red headed boy she'd ever seen.

Now, looking into Michael's happy face, Annie prayed silently. Michael held out his hands to the cooing child.

"I, can I hold him?" Michael asked, a tremor in his voice.

"Sure," Annie said reluctantly.

"Hey boy, hey William, hey," Michael cooed to the now quiet child.

Michael laughed when William reached up and gripped Michael's nose in his hand. William looked around, then verified his mother was still there. She sat in the booth across from Michael and William.

"You uh, you hungry? I, what you want? There's burgers and hot dogs, want anything?" Michael asked, trying to get the slightly fussy William to settle down.

"No, no, I'm good," Annie said, looking away from Michael.

"Hey boy, hey, aw, come on, huh?" Michael cooed to his son. "So, uh, you look, how you been?"

"Fine," Annie said flatly. "You?"

"Good, good. I uh, when they opened that Oakleaf County Sewage place, thought for sure I'd be out of a job," Michael said, struggling slightly with the now fussy child. "Aw, boy, what's the matter huh? What's the matter?"

"Give him here," Annie demanded.

"Oh. Yeah, okay," Michael said, dejected.

"Well, that's what's wrong. Someone's got a wet diaper," Annie said.

"Oh! I, hey, want me change him?" Michael volunteered.

"No," Annie said tightly.

Michael watched as Annie strode toward the restrooms, holding her, their son in her left arm. She had been a beautiful young woman when he had met her. Now, the young mother was truly stunning. Having a child had put a few extra pounds on her small buttocks, had widened her slim hips slightly.

A few moments later, Annie returned. Her beautiful face was still hard, tight as she approached the booth.

"You, I been sending the child support to your momma's; you getting it, right?" Michael asked.

"Yes," Annie said.

Again, William did not last long. Michael tried to hold the child, tried to talk with the child, but the child was uncomfortable. He wanted his mother.

"Sorry, guess since he just doesn't know me," Michael said, sounding defeated.

"Yeah, well," Annie said.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Michael stared at his cup, stared at the straw wrapper that flitted to and fro on the table top. The ceiling fan over their heads blew the wrapper a few millimeters back and forth across the table's Formica surface.

"I uh, reason I called you, needed meet with you," Annie finally broke the silence.

"Yeah, God! Let me tell you, when you called? Could have just about knocked me over with a feather," Michael said. "By the way, God! Real sorry hear about Miss Faye."

"She's getting better. Physical therapy's helping. And no salt. I, man! My time of the month? Need salt but there's none in the house," Annie admitted.

"Call me," Michael said. "I'll drive by, throw a few boxes of salt over the back fence."

Annie's slight smile almost had Michael in tears. When her lips curled up, she truly was gorgeous.

"Annie, I'm so sorry," Michael sniffed. I just, I don't have any excuse."

He wiped the sleeve of his shirt across his eyes. Annie turned and looked out the window, looked at her mother's car. Again, she prayed to the Blessed Virgin Mary for strength.

Annie faced Michael again and reached into her purse. She fumbled around in the depths of the leather bag then pulled the small bag out.

"I hate, I really don't want do this, but Jack's been after me," Annie said, voice tight.

"Jack? Who's Jack?" Michael asked.

"So, if you, look, all you got to do is take this stick, that fuzzy part?" Annie said, indicating the swab inside of the plastic bag. "Just put it in your mouth, rub it on the inside, you know, along your cheek."

"Huh?" Michael asked, confused.

"Then we can send all the samples to the lab. Look, it's no big deal, I'm pretty sure you're William's daddy," Annie said. "But like I said, Jack's been after me find out for sure."

Michael sat, staring open mouthed at his ex-wife. She blushed hotly and looked away again. William picked that moment to grimace.

"Ooh! Oh my God, boy," Annie said. "Well, need to go change that one, huh?"

"Jack? Who the fuck..." Michael snapped.

"Hey, hey, language huh?" Annie spat, getting to her feet. "Someone's trying to start saying words. Don't need him picking that up."

"Who is Jack?" Michael asked.

"You don't know him," Annie said breezily, again lugging child and diaper bag to the restroom door.

Inside the small changing room, Annie almost cried. She lay the wiggling, grimacing child on the table and gently stroked William's soft face.

"God, I am sorry," Annie whispered. "Please forgive me this one sin."

A moment later, Annie carried child and diaper bag toward the table. Michael sat, staring glumly at the seat across from him.

"All done?" Annie asked, putting a cheerful lilt to her voice.

"I uh, no, kind of thought you'd want make sure I did it right," Michael mumbled.

Michael dug the swab out of the bag then scrubbed the inside of his cheek. Annie nodded approval and he dropped the swab into the bag.

"You, I uh, you'll let me know, right?" Michael asked listlessly as he got to his feet.

"Of course," Annie said, the same cheerful lilt to her voice. "Like I said, I'm pretty sure you're..."

"Well, okay," Michael said. "Bye William, bye boy. Love you."

Annie watched the handsome man shuffle out of the restaurant. Through the plate glass window, she watched Michael get into a nondescript little car. She sat, watching until he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt again, then drove away.

"Okay, baby boy, if I don't get some salt in me, I'm going to go crazy," Annie confessed and lugged child, diaper bag and purse to the counter.

"How'd it go?" was Henry's first words when Annie entered the house.

"Fine," Annie whispered.

Annie's heart actually ached as she thought of Michael's confused, then angry, then resigned face. Her own eyes misted as she remembered Michael's shuffling gait as he left Newhart's.

"Uh, bring me a burger?" Henry asked, smelling the greasy French fries and hamburger on his daughter's breath.

"Uh, bring me a Jack on the rocks? Bring me a cigar?" Annie responded.

Faye roused slightly from her television show. She said something and Annie looked at her mother.

"What?" Annie asked.

Faye again spoke. Since her stroke, her speech was horribly garbled. The left side of her body did not work. Annie had lied to Michael when she'd claimed that the physical therapy was helping. Some days were better than others, but Faye's speech was indecipherable and her mobility was nil. Father and daughter labored to help Faye walk, labored to bathe Faye, labored to feed Faye.

"Yes, Momma, I did," Annie said, able to recognize 'Michael' in Faye's grunts. "I saw him today."

Faye spoke again. Annie hesitated, then nodded her head.

"Yes, he, I let him hold William," Annie responded.

Faye and Annie ignored Henry's angry snort. Henry left the living room, stomping into the kitchen. They could hear him slamming cabinet doors.

"Yes, he, he looks good," Annie told her mother. "Seemed real happy see us."

Faye smiled with the right side of her face. She wiped at the left side of her face, even though she didn't feel any drool. She then spoke again.

"No, Momma, I don't," Annie said.

Faye responded, an angry tone in her grunt. Annie looked away.

"God, Momma, I don't know!" Annie whined. "Okay? I don't know. I'm praying about it, all right?"

"Jesus, Faye, uh, remember what that boy done?" Henry snarled from the doorway of the kitchen.

Faye used her right arm to turn her body toward the kitchen. She grunted and gurgled, slapping the arm of her chair to emphasize her point.

"Wasn't nothing Christian about what he and his brother done, huh?" Henry snarled, wishing he had a cigar to chew on.

Faye twisted her face away. Annie shook her head and went to her room. Laying William in his crib, Annie sat on her bed, the same bed she'd had as a young girl, then teenager, and finally, as a young adult. Idly, she rubbed her fingers over the soft blanket, remembering her dreams as a young girl. Dreams of a handsome knight galloping up and falling madly in love with her.

"Fairy tales suck," Annie Flynn said aloud.

"Going write my own," Annie said. "Where the knight rides up, makes his horse run over the beautiful princess, then runs off with the Queen of Skanks. What you think? Think that would sell?"

"You promised to love him, in good times and bad times," Annie reminded herself.

"Uh huh, and he said that 'forsaking all others' too," Annie said, shrugging out of her top.

Annie's heart actually ached when she thought of Michael's face, his confused, dejected face. Stepping into her shower, Annie allowed the tears to fall. Then she grew angry with herself.

"Really? How many, how many times you going cry over him, Annette Elizabeth Flynn?" Annie angrily barked at herself. "Huh? It's been, good God, it's been over a year now."

"Pray," Annie could hear her mother's voice in her head as she showered.

Her mother's voice, before the stroke had always been such a gentle, yet strong voice. Faye would listen, eyes peering into Annie's eyes, listen as Annie told her mother of her heartbreaks, her joys, her doubts. Then Faye would gently, but firmly counsel Annie.