Salvation in the Sargasso Sea Ch. 03

The iridescent digits of the dashboard clock ticked off another minute: 11:13 p.m. Jon exhaled a heavy sigh.

"I've never been treated with such contempt," Marla finally responded. "Carol was really rude."

"I'm sorry I drug you into this. Andy was just looking to relax and catch up on news. It's been a couple of months since I've seen him."

"I'm not blaming you, and Andy was just fine. It was Carol who seemed to have an issue with me. I got the feeling she was jealous."

"Jealous? About what?" Jon asked, turning the car north on Walnut Boulevard.

"I'm not totally sure, but I think it has to do with money."

"Oh, about Andy losing his job, I suppose. Their daughter is going to graduate this year. I imagine they're thinking about college."

"No, it wasn't the normal money worries, it was more personal. I think it was about your money. She made a point of mentioning that you're loaded."

"I've loaned them some money before," he replied. "I'd do it again if Andy asked for help. He knows that."

"I didn't get the impression they were struggling. I think there is some deeper resentment. She claims that you're a millionaire."

Jon fell silent as the road swept east towards Glenridge Drive. He hadn't yet considered how to broach this topic with her.

"Well, she's right. I told you before that I had a lot of money, but not how much, exactly. The last time I looked it was seven."

"Seven million dollars?" Marla nearly choked on the words.

"Most of it is pretend, numbers in a portfolio, not real cash. The money has been accumulating from bonuses, patent royalties, investments, inheritance. There's even some blood money in there: Lisa's death benefit. It all adds up over thirty years. Would you like one?"

"One what?" she asked, looking confused.

"One million."

"You would give me a million dollars?"

"Sure, why not? I'd still have six left," Jon replied, steering north on Glenridge.

"Don't be silly. What would I do with a million dollars?"

"Well, for starters, you could get rid of that Saturn. You could build a recording studio out in Josie's barn. You could produce a CD. You could save it for your retirement. Or you could give it away to charity; maybe to a church."

"You would give me a million dollars and let me give it away?" Marla's voice filled with skepticism. "What were you and Andy burning on the deck tonight? I think it was more than chicken."

"No, there was no weed, although Carol could have used a dose of mellow. I was just thinking about the talk I had with Shannon after the party. She gave me some stuff to think about."

"Words of wisdom from Pastor McCluskey? Now I'm really curious."

Jon hesitated, thinking about that night in the barn. It was time to be honest with her about his feelings.

"She didn't lecture me about that night. She told me I already had the answers I was seeking. I just have to trust my feelings."

Marla studied Jon's face in the dim interior light, watching him pull his thoughts together.

"Do you remember asking me, before Leslie burst in, if I wanted you to be my girlfriend?" he continued. "You said you were OK with that. Well, I'm giving you my answer now. Yes, I want to have a monogamous relationship with you. I mean, I like Leslie a lot; she's a lot of fun to be with, but I don't want to sleep with her again. Are you still OK with this arrangement?"

"Yes." A gradual smile overtook her face. "I'm OK with that and relieved, actually. It wasn't near as much fun as I had imagined. I'm thankful she was too drunk to remember much, I don't think our relationship will suffer."

"Business before pleasure," Jon commented, turning onto the secluded road leading to his house.

Marla leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek. Smiling mischievously, she slid her right hand up his leg and curled her fingers over his crotch.

"Today's business is done," she whispered. "You know, I've never had sex with a millionaire before."

Her touch surprised him, eliciting a groan as his parts swelled against her palm.

"Technically, that's not true," he countered. "I was a millionaire when we met."

As Jon pulled the Charger into his garage, Marla pulled the zipper down on his trousers. She fished his growing erection from his boxers, tugging and stroking until her hand was full.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Homework," she cooed. "I have to practice my lessons."

Leaning further over, she spread the saliva oozing from her mouth over his swelling head. Her right hand helped distribute the spit down his shaft, just like Leslie had taught her. The coordinated effort of her lips, tongue, and hand was having the desired outcome: Jon's cock was now fully erect.

"That's all for now," Marla said, sitting back and opening the car door. "I need you to scratch my itch, to make me twitch."

*

~ Twilight Zone ~

A light breeze rustled the tree tops, stirring the wind chimes on the patio. On top of a knoll, a shadowy figure lay in the trees, peering through binoculars. In the distance, the target of the surveillance illuminated when Jon walked into his kitchen.

"There you are," she whispered.

She observed him move about and eventually sit down at the table. Tying her hair back, she picked up her rifle and tried to acquire him through the hunting scope. Squinting seemed to help her focus, improving her vision and easing her headache.

Pamela had no way of knowing that a five centimeter meningioma was compressing the left frontal lobe of her brain. Although the tumor was non-cancerous, it was certainly not benign. It had grown large enough to increase her intracranial pressure, causing papilledema, headaches, and disordered thinking.

In the scope's eyepiece, she noticed the woman enter the kitchen. Shifting the rifle, she tracked her with the crosshairs. Jon stood next to the table and embraced her.

"Bonus. Two for one," Pamela hissed, removing the safety. "I knew that bitch Lisa was still alive."

The quiet neighborhood erupted when the rifle shot rang out. Dogs alerted their owners as the report echoed through the hills and homes. Bedroom lights flicked on, seemingly in unison, and the neighbors peeked out of their windows and doors. From the shattered opening that was once Jon's patio door, an anguished cry lifted, only to be consumed by the whispering pines.

~~~~~

I sincerely hope that you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. These characters carry special significance for me, personally, and I have poured my soul into them.

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