Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 2
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Mistrusting A MemoryChapter 5 free porn video
The place he directed her to was a tiny hole-in-the-wall that she would have never given a second glance. She realized how hungry she was the instant she walked in, through the door Bob held for her, and the odor of wonderful, delicious things hit her like a sledge hammer.
"Vinny!" Bob called out to a man, standing at the grill, wearing a white paper hat.
Vinny looked over his shoulder, grinned, and held both hands up in the air, a spatula still in one.
"You got me, copper," he said. "Take me away."
A well padded woman, wearing a waitress outfit that was at least three sizes too small for her, came toward them. She was beaming, but most men wouldn't have noticed. She had what looked like acres of cleavage, almost bursting out of the top of her uniform.
"My favorite flatfoot in the whole, entire city," she gushed. She hugged Bob and then looked at Lacey. "My my, Bob, you sure have come up in the world!"
"Aw, gee, Donna," said Bob. "I just keep trying to find a woman who can compete with you, that's all."
"Hey!" called out Vinny, who was using the spatula to cook with again. "Quit hitting on my wife! Behave yourself, or I'll call a cop or something!"
"Don't you pay him any mind," cooed Donna, batting her long, over-mascaraed eyelashes at Bob. "I couldn't compete with this one in a million years." She looked back at Lacey. "Honey," she said, "welcome to Santini's, where we serve great food, regardless of the ne'er-do-well you come in with."
There were only six tables in the place, five of which were occupied by people who paid no attention to their entrance at all. Most were busy with shoving food into their mouths. Donna led them to the remaining table and held the chair for Lacey, who sat and then looked up to find the waitress looking down at her. "Sweet or dry?" she asked.
"Sweet," said Lacey, her mind still whirling. Obviously, Bob was well known here. It was almost like walking into some place that was run by your relatives. You were welcome. It was obvious and taken for granted.
"Sweet it is," said Donna. "And I'll bring you a cudgel to manage him with." She tossed her head toward Bob, who was sitting there looking perfectly innocent.
"Shrimp!" said Bob. "Lots of it."
"And what's wrong with my lasagna?" asked Donna archly.
"MY lasagna," came Vinny's faint voice.
"The lady likes shrimp," said Bob. "And she's on the verge of becoming a vegetarian."
A look of horror crossed Donna's face. "Oh! Well, then, that's different. Veal's not on the menu tonight, but I could get Vinny to make you one that will solve that little problem."
"Shrimp is fine," said Bob. "And some clams too," he added, as an afterthought.
"All right," said Donna. She turned to Lacey. "Sweetheart, I'm SO glad he got you here in time."
She hurried off, as Lacey's jaw sagged.
"Sorry," said Bob. "I should have warned you. We like to kid around a little."
"I guess so," said Lacey, weakly.
"You OK?" he asked, concern in his eyes.
"Yes," she answered habitually. "I don't know," she added, honestly.
"What do you want to talk about?" he asked.
"I don't know that either," she said, helplessly.
"Tell me where you grew up," he said.
"What?"
"Your childhood. What was it like? Good? Bad? Indifferent?"
Donna returned with two glasses that had to hold half a bottle of wine each. The one she set down in front of Lacey was dark violet. The first sip revealed it to be a Sangria that was rich and fruity.
Once he got her started, she couldn't stop. For an hour, when she wasn't cramming her mouth full of the most delicious shrimp she'd ever tasted, or taking gulps of the sinfully sweet and rich wine, she talked constantly.
She told him how she'd grown up in a strict, conservative family. Her father was a blue collar worker in an auto plant. When she was thirteen, she and two male playmates had been caught playing doctor and she'd been sent to her grandparents, who lived so far from anywhere that the only boys she didn't see at school were cousins, who lived in a trailer with her aunt and uncle, behind the big house.
It turned out her cousin's interests were the same as the boys she'd been removed from. Unknown to her grandparents, her sexual education had moved forward at a rapid pace. It was mostly hanky-panky, and mostly harmless, though she became intimately aware of the functions and capabilities of the male sexual organ.
She'd had a pet cow, that she milked, and a dog and three cats. She remembered those as the best years of her life.
She told him how she'd gone to college, to get an MBA, because everyone said that would take her far. She'd met Paul there and had finally gotten up the courage to let a man go all the way. Because of that, she was sure she loved him. When he'd proposed, she'd said yes—not because the idea of marrying him made fireworks go off, but because she'd thought she loved him and marrying the man you loved was what you were supposed to do.
It wasn't until she had said that, that she realized she had blurted out all kinds of personal things, without even thinking about it. Bob had listened and eaten, the whole time, without saying a word.
"I can't believe I just told you all that," she moaned.
"I'm a policeman," he smiled. "I know all the tricks of interrogation and how to get you to spill your guts. Don't feel bad."
She ignored him. "I hardly know you!" she said. "Why would I tell you all those things?" She seemed upset.
"May I make an observation or two?" he asked gently.
"Yes," she said, for lack of anything else to say.
"It sounds to me," he said softly, "that for most of your life, other people have told you what to do and how to feel. You've been bouncing along in life, from place to place, doing what you thought was expected of you. Now, here, sitting with a policeman, you did the same thing. I asked you to tell me about yourself and you did."
She stared at him. That didn't make any sense at all. She'd done what she wanted to do. Hadn't she? She thought back to what she'd just told him. He was right! The only things she'd done of her own free will were the secret things. Even then, the boys ... her cousins ... had called all the shots, except for actually fucking her. She hadn't let them do that. She'd wanted to, but was too afraid. And school. She remembered now that she'd talked about archeology, but her grandmother had pooh-poohed that. Nobody could make a living in archeology. Business was the ticket. An MBA would open doors for her.
Had it? Her shop was doing well. Her clientele were loyal. Her employees ran the day-to-day sales part, while she concentrated on ordering and finding new fashions. She had an office, but most of her work could be done anywhere she had access to an internet connection. It was one of the reasons she'd gone out on her own in the first place. She'd already repaid Paul the money he'd fronted her, and the loan she had with the bank was well in hand. Her work hours were flexible. She was even going to be able to get by without Paul's income. It would be tight, but her needs were few. What DID she want out of life?
She realized she had no idea. She had no dream—no long term plans. She didn't know where she wanted to be in five years, or what she wanted to be doing. She felt like she was in a dream ... a bad dream, and couldn't wake up.
She realized he was looking at her, waiting for her to reply. She had no idea of what to say.
"Another observation," said Bob, suddenly, "is that what happened to you ... the attack ... is just part of that cycle."
That got her attention. She looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that, if what I said is true, you're used to doing what is expected of you. You follow orders. You followed his orders too."
"I HAD TO!" she moaned.
"Yes!" he agreed. "You had to."
"But what does that MEAN?!" she whined.
"You're having difficulties right now," he said.
She realized he was waiting for her to confirm that and nodded.
"You want your life back."
She nodded again and had an errant thought that she was doing just what he had said she did ... she nodded, because he expected her to do so.
"My other observation is that you haven't been in control of your own life at all, up to now. But NOW, you have a chance to TAKE control of your life and change it. Right now, you are footloose and fancy free. Your husband is leaving you. You have a new place to live. You can do anything you want to do, Lacey. You can go back to school, or change jobs, or howl at the moon. Life is wide open for you, right now, and you have the chance to change everything. You said you just want your life back, but, from the sounds of it, you're lucky you lost that life."
"That's cruel!" she whispered.
"It's just an observation. You're beautiful. You're young. You're intelligent. You could have the world on a string. You could have any man you wanted, as soon as you decide whether you ever want another man or not. It doesn't have to go back to that world in which you just react to the whims of others."
Hortense
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Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 3
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Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 4
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