Vanity

"The world through the eyes of a child," Richard agreed, shaking his head.

Amber did return to the room. With a nudge from her attorney, Amber did offer an insincere apology.

"Before we go any further? There's one question been bugging the hell out of me," Richard spoke up.

Marie raised one eyebrow. Penny tightened her jaw. Nicole looked at him; Amber looked away.

"How in the hell did you recognize me?" Richard asked Amber.

"Huh?" Amber asked.

"That day in the grocery store? How, I mean, I'd lost eighty pounds, I'd lost the coke bottle glasses, I'd cut my hair. How did you recognize me?" Richard asked.

"Huh? Oh! Oh yeah. My cousin Donna's a cashier there. I saw you walk in with your nice shoes and asked Donna if she knew who you were," Amber admitted. "You always used your American Express Gold so she knew you had the bucks."

"Oh," Richard said.

"Anything else, Mr. Gerrard?" Marie asked.

"No, Your Honor," Richard quietly agreed.

Nicole, and Amber could offer no defense. Penny, with a quick look at Richard had the requested counseling denied by Judge Marie Robichaux. Since Amber was gainfully employed, Nicole's request for alimony was likewise denied.

"I don't even get my car?" Amber whined to Nicole.

"Your Honor, she can have the car," Richard agreed.

"Are you..." Marie asked.

"Of course, there's fifty two payments still owed on it, four twenty eight sixty three apiece. She's one insisted we get a five year loan on it," Richard smiled.

Another profanity laced explosion erupted out of Amber. Again, Judge Marie Robichaux had Amber leave the chambers.

"Charming," Penny said as she and Richard stepped out of the courthouse.

They saw Amber sullenly get into a battered 1988 Chevy Nova. Penny then looked at Richard. He wasn't a particularly handsome man, but he did have some attractive features. He dressed well, kept himself in shape, kept himself clean, well groomed.

"Seriously, you fell for Miss Potty Mouth, uh, how?" Penny asked as they watched Amber drive away.

"She was the third woman I'd ever had sex with," Richard admitted, blushing hotly. "I was a fat nerd most of my life and then all of a sudden, there's this gorgeous blonde throwing herself at me?"

"Hmm. Well, any more throw themselves at you? Might I suggest you do a little checking first?" Penny said, walking toward her mini-van.

*..*..*

Henrietta Amber Goodwin numbly left the St. Elizabeth Parish courthouse. She got into her Aunt Myrtle's old Chevy Nova and sat for a long moment.

Amber had known since kindergarten that she was pretty. Boys fought over her all the time. Girls vied to be her friend. Even teachers allowed her to slide on missed homework assignments, gave her the benefit of a doubt on class work.

By the time she entered high school, Amber had come into full knowledge of what her beauty could do for her. She did not try out for cheer squad; the cheer squad came to her. She did not campaign to be class president; the student council came to her. Leaning forward during tests, school uniform blouse unbuttoned to just above her 34D breasts gave her a passing grade. Smiling at a teacher gave her the excuse she needed for a missed homework assignment.

Jocks, nerds, stoners and teachers alike tried to get into her good graces, get into her panties. But Amber never allowed them such liberties. Boys and men alike only got promises of 'maybe.'

Amber expected college to simply be an extension of high school. In many respects, it was. Many professors, teacher's aides were willing to bend over backward for Henrietta Amber Goodwin. Many were willing to accept substandard work, accept flimsy excuses. The more difficult teachers did get Amber's spectacular hand jobs. The more difficult professors did get Amber's pouting lips wrapped around their cocks, or in two instances, two female teachers got to eat Amber's meticulously groomed blonde pussy.

In her sophomore year, Amber signed up for Computer Analysis' and smirked as an obese man waddled in. This teacher's aide would be putty in her hands. Then the behemoth opened his mouth.

"My name is Mr. Gerrard. You will address me as 'Mr. Gerrard' or 'Sir,'" Richard Gerrard said in a surprisingly strong voice. "I do not take attendance. If you are here, you will learn. If you are not here, you will not learn. It is as simple as that. I do not give out gold stars for perfect attendance. I do not give make-up tests; if you miss the test, you miss the grade. Only in the most extreme cases will this rule ever be set aside. Hospitalization, death of a spouse, parents, sibling or child. The flu? Not an excuse. Wear a diaper and I'll put the wastebasket near your desk for you."

"Are you serious?" Amber asked, beautiful blue eyes goggling at him.

"Yes ma'am, I am. And I hope you are too," he snapped.

Leaning forward, letting him see her braless breasts and hard nipples had no effect on the man. Sitting back, spreading her legs, letting the obese tub of lard see that her carpet did match her drapes had no effect. By the time mid-term exams rolled around, Amber was carrying a '23' in Mr. Gerrard's class. She dropped out with an 'I' for the semester.

Then Amber discovered that she was pregnant. Which rifle had hit the duck was a mystery to her. Carlos Goyez offered to marry her. Phillip Dotson offered to marry her. John Boudreaux offered to marry her. Daniel Breaux offered to marry her.

Robert Truesdale looked at Amber as she informed him that she was pregnant. He looked at her for a long moment, then asked her what she planned to do about it. She suggested marriage.

"Don't think so, but thanks for playing. We've got lovely parting gifts for you," Robert said.

"What? Wait, what?" Amber sputtered, truly shocked.

Amber burst into tears. Robert's sigh of irritation caused the waterworks to double.

"Think I'm interested in playing your little games, Amber?" Robert sighed. "Think I'm willing chase after you? News flash, Sugar. Pussy is pussy. Never met a woman yet don't have one. And some women actually LIKE to fuck. And you think I'm in any hurry be tied down someone don't know how to fuck?"

Carlos, Phillip, the others were crushed when Amber dropped them. Amber did everything she could to sway Robert's opinion, swing his decision toward marrying her.

Rachael was a beautiful baby. And the DNA test did confirm that Robert was indeed her father. Grudgingly, Robert married Amber, gave Rachael his last name.

Amber saw Robert's grudging assent as a victory. From the moment she declared herself the winner in their contest of wills, Amber began to press for more victories.

The first battle was over buying a house. Robert did win that one; Amber wanted a monstrosity in Baylor Lake, Louisiana. Robert smiled and asked her how she planned to pay for it; she was a low level administrative assistant making just above minimum wage.

She had to call this one a win for Robert. They lived in a small, comfortable house in Kimble, Louisiana. It was a comfortable neighborhood of lower middle class families, with middle class jobs and middle class values. Even though Amber's educational accomplishments and current wages were actually on the lower end of the scale in their neighborhood, she still believed herself to be superior to the others in their neighborhood.

The next battle was over breast enlargement. Withholding sex had no effect on Robert; he routinely reminded Amber she wasn't much of a fuck anyway.

So Amber decided to fuck Robert into surrender. Then she lied, used deception and told Robert that it was for a tubal ligation.

Robert had not wanted children in the first place. He did love Rachael, but he had not wanted her. And Amber's pregnancy had been an uncomfortable one. So, Robert paid for Amber to get her tubes tied.

This was a pattern throughout their eight year union. Then Robert slipped up and told Amber he loved her. From that moment on, Amber walked on Robert, with her four inch heels as often as she felt like walking on him.

One afternoon, she saw a well-dressed man entering the supermarket. She recognized the shoes; these were not the ugly work boots or beat up tennis shoes her husband favored. These were name brand leather loafers. The khakis were also quality, and the polo shirt actually had the Polo ® logo on its left breast.

"Baby, get us a basket, huh?" Amber told Rachael as she scurried over to where her cousin Donna leaned against her cash register.

"Hey girl, what up," Donna smiled.

"Him; know who he is?" Amber asked, pointing to where Richard was picking through the apples.

"Hmm? Him? Oh yeah, Richard, Richard, uh, Richard Gerrard," Donna said.

"Momma, got one," Rachael announced, pushing a grocery cart over.

"Girl, he's some teacher over at U.L.D; American Express. GOLD American Express," Donna said, ignoring the customer that began putting items on her conveyor belt.

"EXCUSE ME," the grey haired woman finally barked when Amber and Donna showed no sign of ending their conversation.

Seducing Richard Gerrard had been easy enough. Divorcing Robert Truesdale had also been easy enough. It had pleased Amber that Robert put up a fight, tried to prevent the divorce. But when Amber thought about it, Robert was supposed to put up a fight; he loved her.

But Richard had a much nicer home, in a much nicer neighborhood, and drove a much nicer, newer pickup truck. He was better suited for Amber.

Amber wanted a new couch, Richard bought a new couch. She wanted a new car, and not just any new car, but a Lexus and Richard got it for her. She wanted a Koi pond for their back yard, Richard had it installed for her.

She said 'I love you.' Richard fervently said 'I love you' in return. And he went through all the motions to prove his love for her.

Now, driving the old Chevy Nova north on Highway 19, toward the trailer that she and her cousin Donna were living in, Amber wondered how she could have failed. She was still beautiful. She still had the flawless skin, the big blue eyes, the blonde hair, the large chest.

With Dalbert, flirting had gone from innuendo and light flirting to casual touches to quick gropes. The man had been fascinated with Amber's substantial chest. Dr. Waxman had done a phenomenal job with her implants; Dalbert did not notice that Amber's breasts were not natural.

Amber announced to Richard that she would be having this fling; a onetime only night of passion. And Richard had decided he would not give it to her. Amber had been truly surprised that Richard would not acquiesce to her wishes. He said he loved her.

Richard's uncaring attitude when she had not made breakfast for him that morning annoyed Amber. Richard's refusal to kiss her that morning had upset Amber. Then his refusal to kiss her had angered Amber.

At five thirty that evening, Amber ducked into the women's' bathroom at work and changed into her outfit. Short skirt, low cut blouse, high heels, and no panties.

Stepping out into the employees' parking lot, Dalbert was waiting by her Lexus. He was at the driver's door, not the passenger side.

"Girl, going let me drive this bad ass ride?" Dalbert asked.

At the restaurant, Dalbert ordered his meal when the waitress asked them what they'd like to drink. Amber looked up, annoyed.

"What?" Dalbert asked.

"I haven't even looked at the menu yet," Amber snapped. "So, your food's going get here ten minutes before mine; I'm going sit here watching you eat."

"Oh, shit, sorry; thought you knew what you wanted," Dalbert said.

"No; told you, my husband doesn't eat here," Amber snapped.

Bringing their drinks, their waitress asked Amber if she knew what she wanted. Amber sighed and ordered the cheese enchiladas.

True to her prediction, Dalbert's meal came before Amber's dinner. Then, just as Amber's plate was placed in front of her, there was a slight commotion at the front door of the restaurant. Amber paid no attention to the scuffle.

"Playing hoops with your boys, huh mother fucker?" an enraged black woman screamed.

"Celine!" Dalbert shrieked.

Amber ducked when she saw a flash of steel. Dalbert did not.

An off-duty police officer managed to prevent any further attempts. His wife called for police and ambulance while the police officer wrestled Celine to the ground.

Then when Amber attempted to pay for the meal; Dalbert had been taken to St. Elizabeth's Trauma Center, her card was declined. Her next card was likewise declined. She dug in her purse and found her last card, the one she had in her maiden name. Amber's pale features turned even paler when that card too was declined.

So, she rummaged around in her large, name-brand bag and scrounged together the exact amount for the ticket.

"Two ninety five for iced tea?" Amber said. "Next time ordering water. Or do y'all charge for water?"

Amber walked from the table, leaving Dalbert's half-eaten meal and her own untouched meal behind. She was sure that every eye in the building was on her. But instead of those eyes looking at her with lust, or envy, they were staring at her because she'd been at a table where a patron was stabbed by an angry black woman. She was sure they were mocking her as they watched her make the shameful journey.

She avoided eye contact with the hostess, with the patrons waiting on a table as she walked through the foyer. Stepping outside, Amber received yet another shock. Her car, her beautiful car was not in the parking lot.

Her keys were in her purse; Dalbert had not left them in the automobile. They'd not fallen to the asphalt parking lot. They were in her purse.

She fumbled around and found her cell phone. She punched in Richard's number. Nothing. She punched it in again. Again, nothing.

A man stepped out of the restaurant and asked Amber if she needed assistance. Behind the young man, Amber could see the face of an annoyed woman. This small fact did make her feel somewhat better, somewhat more in control. Over his date's protests, the young man allowed Amber to make a phone call.

"Richard? My car! It's been stolen," Amber shrilled. "And my phone doesn't work. Oh, and my credit cards and..."

"Wow, sucks to be you, huh?" Richard said drily. "Whose phone is this?"

"This guy's. I'm at Casa Ole; he's letting me use his phone," Amber said, turning away from the man's inquiring face.

"See if he'll let you sleep at his house too; you no longer have a home," Richard said and hung up.

Amber screeched in anger. The man's date snatched the cell phone from Amber's hand before Amber could hurl it in anger.

"Ever let some ignorant bimbo..." the woman hissed at the young man, pulling him back into Casa Ole.

911 did work on Amber's phone and the DeGarde Police Department did send out a squad car. They filled out the information, radioing it in quickly. The male officer wasn't too inclined to ferry Amber from restaurant to home, but his female partner overrode his objections.

"Man; I'm out here? Alone? Want someone take a little pity on me, hear?" the woman hissed as she opened the rear of the police cruiser for Amber. "Ma'am? Watch your head, hear?"

"Plus that," the female officer continued as she slid behind the wheel. "Need get the tag numbers from her husband.

"Yeah, yeah," the male officer grumbled.

Amber's key didn't work on the door of her home. Opening the door, Richard, her husband refused her entry. Then, to her embarrassment, Richard showed that he had her car, had it in her garage.

Embarrassing Amber even more, the police had to convince her husband to let her come in, gather some clothing. Her anger, her embarrassment dissolved, though, when she entered her, their bedroom and saw the cardboard boxes.

Now, a few weeks after that dismal night, Amber pulled up to the single wide trailer and sighed heavily. She'd taken off of work for the meeting in the judge's chambers. She'd dug through her boxes, found her nicest dress and had ironed it. Her pantyhose had no runs in them, and she'd even polished her shoes. The mirror had shown Amber the sight of a winner, a victor, a champion.

Now, the same mirror showed Amber the sight of a beaten down failure. The nice dress looked wrinkled, shabby on her. The four inch heels were nicely polished, but looked somehow cheap. Thankfully, though, the pantyhose had survived the miserable day.

Then her big toenail caught and gouged a tear as she rolled the hose down.

The budding romance between herself and Dalbert had fizzled out the moment Celine had stuck Dalbert with her knife. Two weeks after the incident, Dalbert had quit his job. Amber had not been sorry to see Dalbert go.

Amber still had her job, thankfully. Her screaming tirade on the afternoon she'd been served had nearly cost her that job. Fortunately for Amber, her boss was a divorced woman that knew all too well the roller coaster of emotions that a divorce can create.

"God damn, this is just not right," Amber sobbed, sitting nude on the corner of her bed.

When Donna came in from her day shift at Burns & Burns, she could smell macaroni and cheese with little bits of hot dogs cut up in it. When she and Amber had been kids, this had been a favorite meal of theirs. Their mothers would take a box of macaroni & cheese, boil both noodles and hot dogs together. Then, they'd fish the hot dogs out, and cut them up while the margarine melted in the hot noodles. Then they'd stir in hot dog chunks and powdered cheese packet into the pot with the noodles.

Now, as adults, it was the meal Amber and Donna cooked when they were feeling down and needed that little bit of comfort. It was the meal Donna or Amber would fix, put on a comfortable pair of pajamas, and eat their troubles away.

Rachael, Amber's daughter declared the meal to be 'yucky' and refused to eat it. Robert likewise had said it had to be the single most disgusting thing any white trash mother could serve to her family.

Even with the smell of the dinner giving her a forewarning of Amber's mood, Donna was shocked, horrified at the sight of Amber. Her cousin was still quite beautiful, with large chest and golden hair. But her eyes had no life, no hope as she mechanically spooned out the meal onto their plastic plates.

"I lost," Amber mumbled when Donna asked what had happened.

THE END.

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure. I post them here for your enjoyment. I do thank you for reading my stories.

I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad, and those that take the time to rate my stories. I do read comments, and do attempt to learn from them.

One comment/complaint many readers have had in the past is that the point of view seems to jump back and forth too much in my stories. So, I tried to write this, showing only one person's point of view at a time. Another comment/complaint is that there are too many people to keep track of in my stories. So I did make a concerted effort to limit the number of people named in this tale.

Ethel Youngblood and Penny Jones are characters introduced in 'Righting A Wrong' in the Romance category.

Dr. Farbacher is a character first introduced in 'Helping A Butterfly' in the Transsexual & Crossdressers category.

Judge Marie Robichaux is a character first introduced in 'The Broussard Sisters' series in the Group Sex category.

Nicole Banks was first introduced in 'Johnson, Johnson & Lambert' in the Romance category.

Have a super sparkly day. For any of you that are wondering, the hot dog/macaroni & cheese meal works best if you use the generic macaroni & cheese and all beef hot dogs. Using those hot dogs made with turkey just makes the meal taste funny, just a little off.

(Okay, I made that last paragraph up. But I did very briefly date a young woman from Chalmette, Louisiana, that swore up and down that 'Stove Top alfredo' was the best stuff ever.)