You Picked a Fine Time, Lucille

You picked a fine time, Lucille

This came to me as we were driving, and the country-oldies station REALLY- went back in time. I hope you like it. (Just read it; don't jump to conclusions). Then I was reading new stories and there was "Amarillo", by chas4455. After I read it, I thought 'The guy was reading my mind'. Well, a little bit. Kudos, sir, it was an excellent story.

Anyway, please enjoy mine--a little more detail on Lucille and the situation. You'll see.

Matthew Dowd was getting divorced.

He had been married for twelve years, had four children, and owned a small farm raising wheat. He was big, broad-shouldered, strong hands, quiet. Easy going. He loved his wife. But SHE wanted more. (Of course).

Like was hard.

His wife Lucille was a bitch. She was a beauty. She never was satisfied with anything.

She was always going out, usually on Friday and/or Saturday nights. Often she wouldn't come home, for two or more days. The children, ages ten, eight, six, and three, were often left alone. Thank God they had Mrs. Delano. The house was barely functioning. The farm was suffering. He had had it. When he could get away to the VFW occasionally, the prevailing opinion was 'dump her. She has already dumped you.'

He wasn't a vet, but his dad had been, and he had been going with his dad since he was six or so. His dad was a Vietnam Vet and was well-liked there. He was an Army Sgt., just a grunt, but he had a shit box full of medals for doing the right thing. Several of the guys there knew him personally or knew of him. He had been a farmer, and that's what he went back to after six years in the army. He married his high school sweetheart. Two years later, they had Matthew. She had complications and never really came back from the birth.

Eight years later, she passed. Dad never got over it. It was just him and dad. In junior year, his dad died. It was a long time between them, but Matt was convinced his dad died from a broken heart. So Matt inherited the farm, a small insurance payment, and Mrs. Delano, their housekeeper. He met Lucille and fell in love. They married, (too soon in life, it would appear) and the shit started.

When she got pregnant with Mary the doctor told her to 'abstain from sex till after the birth.' Then six weeks later, they had sex again, and voila, she was pregnant again. Same drill and the scenario repeated itself. Three more times, but after little Monica was born, she cut him off entirely. Two and a half years.

One night, at the VFW, the conversation switched to his wayward wife and his lack of a sex life. One of the guys was an attorney. Retired Capt. Al Losano. He felt Matt was being used and played, and agreed to handle it pro-bono, as long as he was serious. None of this 'counseling' bull shit.

"Played??" asked Matt. He figured he meant the fooling around, but his friends were looking at the 'big picture'.

A guy named Gino said, "Did you ever notice how she cuts you off when she gets pregnant? And it's awfully convenient, the regularity that she gets pregnant. And now, when was the last time you got laid?? The baby is what, two and a half? Come on, son, do the math!!"

Suddenly, a light bulb went on in Matt's head. Then Gino went one step farther. "Have you had DNA tests done on the kids? Are you sure they're yours??"

Matt blanched and that was it. He rose with fire in his eyes.

"THEY'RE MINE! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE IMPLYING, BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER!! THEY'RE MINE!!!"

Gino never moved. He just stared at the young man, feeling nothing but pity. He was a police Lt. Detective and he had seen this all too often in his line of work. Al, the lawyer, grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

"Easy, Matt, if it's so, it's not the kid's fault. And the way you talk about them, they are not involved nor to blame for this. If you don't want to know, it's okay.." He felt sorry for Matt. He would never have thought the young man was that dense and dumb.

But love. You know.

They talked for a while, and he made an appointment with Al. They drew up the documents and he filed.

He didn't have much, and he had to offer her half. (Of course, it was a 'no-fault' state). Equal access to the kids. She could keep the farmhouse, but he kept the land and the machinery. He would assume all debts. A more than fair settlement. Her response was stunning.

Her lawyer countered by renouncing parental rights and any claims on the house. In turn, she wanted all the money in their bank accounts and savings, and a clear dissolution of their union, with no future claims. She just wanted out. So it would cost him approximately $37,000 dollars (just about all the money he had) to be rid of her. His lawyer reviewed everything with him, pointing out the pros and cons. He recommended taking the counteroffer if he felt he could afford it. No brainer. He signed and it was notarized and returned to her lawyer almost immediately, his lawyer rushing the original copy over ten minutes after the notarization was completed.

(He had to pee first, otherwise, it would have been immediately). On the way, he dropped it at the courthouse to expedite things.

Matt went home to tell Mrs. Delano. Her comment??

"IT'S ABOUT TIME. I promised your parents I would look after you and your family. I am sorry for the way the woman treated you and these poor children. But this is the best scenario you could hope for. Don't worry about the money. With my late husband's pension and Social Security, we'll make out all right. May be tight, but we'll make it." She reached out and hugged him.

So it was just a matter of time- three months, ninety-two days to be exact. Things were looking up.

Take two- the other shoe drops.

His oldest got appendicitis. Not too serious, but without major medical insurance, the bills started. Mary was in the hospital for four days. Michael, his son, stepped up and did his dad proud. What little he could do. Little Jasmine and Monica were more or less along for the ride. Then the drought hit and the wheat crop started to suffer. The tractor 'shit the bed' with a blown transfer case. His truck came due for inspection and registration renewal. The roof sprung a leak, taxes went up, the County sent notice they were going to re-zone the farm, the State and the Feds were going to run a six-lane interstate through the center of the farm, and then his dog died. (I figured the poor guy didn't have enough grief in his life.)

The sole bright spot was when his divorce came through, and he drove to Al's office to pick up the decree. Al asked if there was anything he could do to help him out.

Half in jest, he said, "Yeah, can you see if I could win the Power ball this Saturday?"

Al smiled and said he would try his best. Matt told him with the way finances were, it would be some time before he could afford to come back to the VFW- even as cheap as the beer was. He stood, shook Al's hand, and told him thanks. As Matt left, Al breathed a silent prayer.

'Lord, the kid needs a break. See if you can help him out.'

Matt drove home to soup and hot dogs for dinner. The next day he had to get started harvesting. He just hoped the combine held together. That lasted for about 2/3 of the fields. Then the hydraulics gave up. Matt sat in the cab and cried. For about two hours. Then he shook himself, dried his eyes, walked to the barn, got in his pick-up, and drove to the VFW. He walked in and ordered a beer.

He was immediately noticed by Jerry Vallen, a retired Lt. Col. who was a day trader. He did alright, pulling in about $100k a year. He went over and sat at Matt's side. Twenty minutes and six beers later, he had heard the whole story, had called Al and Gino, and switched Matt to coffee. His last call was to his daughter, Alice, a school teacher. She had recently relocated to the area after her husband left her for a stripper in New Orleans. Her ex had told her he didn't want kids, and neither did 'Bambi'. So they split.

His wife had passed away two years ago, and she thought her father needed some support. Actually, he was handling it a lot better than she knew, but he was fairly sure she was the one who needed support.

Besides, Alice was a much better cook than he was. So they were 'helping' each other.

Al and Gino arrived and shortly afterwards a very hesitant Alice walked in. Her dad had not been forthcoming in his reason for asking her to join them, but Jerry was getting a little tired of having his daughter moping around with the guise of 'fussing' over him.

'I think it's time we re-acquainted her with the real world', he was thinking.

The four men were clustered around one of the smaller tables when Alice walked in. She saw her dad and walked over to them. Introductions were made, and when she looked at Matt, her world stopped. He looked at her and through his beer-soaked consciousness, smiled at her. Then he passed out. Alice gasped and sat down and cradled his head.

"Dad, what's going on?"

Over the next half hour, she was filled in on Matt's life story. Her concern morphed into pity, followed by a beginning of love.

'This poor guy has nothing, other than four kids, a shit-pot full of debt and problems, and people who care about him. He has it worse than me', she thought. She looked at her father.

"Let's get him home. He doesn't need to be here. He needs his family."

So they loaded him up in her Explorer and took him home. Mrs. Delano came out and met them in the front yard as Alice and Al pulled him out of the car. They got him in and to bed, having cleaned him up a little, and adjourned to the living room for some coffee. Little Monica hung on Mrs. Delano's leg as the adults talked, gawking at Alice, who smiled and waved at her, and Al brought the 63-year-old woman up to speed. But soon, Monica was in Alice's lap, giggling and babbling a blue streak.

Alice was 30 years old. 5' 3" tall, 110 lbs., slender, 34-B breasts and good-looking legs. She was girl next door cute, not stunning. Glasses, short brown hair, and dimples, she was almost the antithesis of Lucille. And she was slightly broken. Maybe not on the scale of Matthew, but still hurting.

Her father pulled up a few minutes later and joined them. He and Gino had instituted some discreet inquiries as to Matt's ex-wife's location and status. Turns out she had taken her 'ill-gotten gains' and left with one of her boy toys for Vegas. Then, the three older Dowd children showed up from school and stumbled into a house full of people they didn't know. Shock.

Except for Mrs. Delano. And Miss Alice. She was a teacher at their school. As a matter of fact, Mary had her for first-period English. They asked what was wrong because the two older ones sensed there was something wrong, or something going on. They sat down and Mrs. Delano talked to them and Miss Alice comforted them. They cried for quite a while.

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You picked a fine time, Lucille

Lucille Dowd, now Lucille Bowman, left town with her current 'fuck buddy', and a little more than $35,000 cash, after having cashed out Matt's divorce settlement. She just wanted to be rid of her shit life, her four 'brats', and the small town she had grown up in. She thought marrying Matthew Dowd would be a step up because he had a 2,000-acre farm. In her mind, that said 'money'. Boy, was she stupid? And she was naive. Farm life was hard, and all-consuming. She had to get out.

She had gone to town one day for groceries while Matt was working in the fields. She never made it to the grocery store. Walking along the sidewalk, she was stopped by a well-dressed middle-aged man and sweet-talked into the nearby bar. Three hours later, she was on her back in a motel room, fucking this guy. Thus began her life of debauchery. For eleven years, she screwed her days and nights away. And Matt's money, too.

He kept giving her money, and she kept spending it. Then her 'boyfriend' came up with the pregnancy scam. He would knock her up, she would cut her husband off and they would continue to fuck around. The doctor's ruse was his idea, cutting Matthew off till after childbirth. Then he would knock her up again, she would have sex with her husband once, or maybe twice, and as soon as she was pregnant, cut him off, and the whole thing would start again. Four kids later, she cut him off completely, saying that she didn't want any more babies.

He loved her, and the work on the farm was all-consuming. No sooner would he harvest a crop and sell it than she would take most of the money and be gone again, for five days, or a week. For ten years, more or less it went on. Finally, he had had enough.

So he had filed.

Ninety two days later, he was a free man.

Now his life could get on. But what was left? He had almost no money, bills out of his wazoo, and repairs that needed to be accomplished.

One bright spot was Alice. She became a rock, a constant presence in his world. Mrs. Delano approved but cautioned him to behave himself. Matt never even thought otherwise. He didn't have two dimes to rub together, and he told Alice after three weeks she should find someone else. He couldn't even afford to take her on a date. And work on the farm, such as he could do, was eating up just about any free time he had. But he liked having her around. She loved being around. And his kids absolutely ADORED having her around. So what's the problem? The problem was that he couldn't see any way to advance the situation. So he just let it move along.

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Now, bear with me.

Karma was involved with a few small 'conditions' around the world. Ukraine, political unrest in Israel, Communist China's incursions around the world, racial and social unrest in the U.S.A. She really wasn't paying attention to the simpler things in the world. 'Shame on me,' she thought. A brief mental 'glance' around in her subconscious and she stumbled upon Mr. Matthew Dowd.

'WOW!' Even she was astounded by his circumstances. 'The poor guy has had it rough. Where was his ex-wife? Maybe she should visit some justice on her? No, wait. I have a better idea'. Karma thought for a moment and then smiled.

'Yeah, much better!', she thought.

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He got a notice from the hospital that he was behind in the payments on his daughter's bill, for her appendicitis operation. They demanded immediate payment, or they would start legal procedures. So he drove to the hospital to talk to the finance office. On his way, he started thinking he should stop and talk to Mr. Losano, but he had done so much for him already. No, he would find out what his options were, then go see about what to do. If he could.

Two hours later, he was walking out of the hospital, in even lower spirits than when he went in. They told him it was out of their hands. It would be turned over to a collection agency unless he paid. He had to put up his farm for collateral and pay in full within sixty days. And he thought it couldn't get any worse. Well, he figured a trip to his lawyer couldn't hurt.

As he walked up to his truck, he saw a piece of paper on the ground. Other than the one scrap of paper, the surrounding area was pristine.

Something nagged at his mind. He stopped and scooped to pick up the small piece of paper. He stared at it. 'A lottery ticket! For this Saturday. Well, maybe I'll get lucky and hit for a couple of bucks and I'll be able to buy pizza for dinner. Or even enough to take Alice out to a movie and Burger King,' he thought. He stuffed the ticket into his pocket, and got in the truck, started it up, and left for his lawyer's office.

Pulling up to the building where Al's office was, he parked in the lot next door. The elevator took him to the fourth floor, and then he walked to the glass doors and into the reception area. The receptionist looked up, smiled, and said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Dowd. Mr. Losano just got back from lunch, but I don't believe you have an appointment. Can I help you??"

"Matilda, I have a problem. I just need to ask a couple of questions. Do you think he could fit me in?"

"Let me check, Mr. Dowd. Just have a seat, please." She picked up the phone and spoke for a second. Then she turned and said, "Give him a few minutes, okay??"

"Sure," mumbled Matt. He slumped into a chair and almost lost it. After about ten minutes, the intercom buzzed, Matilda answered and nodded to Matt.

"Go right back, Mr. Dowd. He's waiting for you."

Matt rose and made his way down the short hall to Al's office. 'Like I haven't been here too many times before,' he thought.

Al Losano stood as Matt entered his office.

"Sorry for the wait, Matt. I had an emergency to tie up. Now what can I help with?"

Matt laid out his latest problem, gave him the hospital's paperwork, and disintegrated. Al calmly read the papers, sighed, and looked up at the young man.

'He just can't get a break, can he, Lord,' Al thought.

"Well, they're trying to play hardball. But you don't own the property. It's mortgaged. So this doesn't mean shit. But they can turn it over to a collection agency. It's what hospitals. That will just add to your worries. If you can't pay, there's nothing we can do. So my advice is if they won't help ease the repayment schedule, just ignore them and we'll worry about everything else when it happens.

"Anything from the county about the re-zoning, or the state about the proposed highway?"

Matt grabbed his head and slumped.

"Nothing new. Just what we got last week." He groaned.

Al sighed again.

"Don't worry about it, buddy. It won't do any good. We'll 'jump off that bridge when we get to it', to quote the movie. Go home and have a beer. Just one, though. Alright??"

"How about a lemonade? I can't afford beers," Matt answered glumly. He rose, shook Al's hand, and left.

Five minutes later, he was walking to his truck, his mind running in a hundred different directions at once. As he got to his truck, he noticed the dog. It looked about four months old. It was just lifting its leg to piss on the rear driver's side wheel of his truck when it looked up and saw him. He yelled "HEY!!" at him, but the animal finished his business and then jogged up to him, wagging his tail and lolling his tongue. It got up next to him and rugged up against his leg, making all kinds of affectionate noises.

"Well, you sure are cute, bud, but that's my pick-up you just decorated." But he was a good-looking dog and he bent down to ruff his heck and scratch his head. While doing so, he checked for a collar and tags. Nothing. Maybe he was chipped?? The vet had a free checker service for lost dogs, so he hustled to his truck, opened the door, and whistled. The pup bounded in over and jumped right in, like it was second nature; like it was where he belonged-like it was home.

Matt looked at him. 'You almost look like Spike, when he was younger.'

Spike had just passed on, after 15 years. 'Just another slap in the face,' thought Matt. He shuddered, climbed in, and drove to the twenty-four-hour vets.

He pulled up at the place where he had taken Spike since he had been a puppy. He slipped a length of rope around his neck. He led him in. Luckily, it was a little after two, and there was no one waiting.

They took his info and said yes, it was free, but a donation was always appreciated. He grimaced, dug out his wallet, and noticed he had seven dollars left. He sighed, looked at the mutt, and stuffed five bucks in the donation jar. The young lady smiled at him, said thank you, and took the dog to the back. Matt followed and she set him on an exam table. She picked up a wand, all the time talking to the dog, telling him what a good boy he was. She waved the wand all over his back, sides, belly, and around his neck twice. Across his butt and almost up his ass.