500 Time Revenge
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500 AnniesChapter 6 free porn video
Annie's side of the story...
"Greetings all. This is Barbara Barnes Perkins of Book Report on PBS. I'd like to welcome an old friend, someone who helped launched my career in radio and later television. He's written three best sellers, including his last, The Apology."
"As I said, he's a dear friend, the godfather of my first born, my relief when I go on vacation, a still sought after public speaker and essayist. Ladies and gentlemen, Joe Williams."
She was at a table, similar to the one Charlie Rose used through the years when he had his PBS show. When he moved back to commercial television, she became his replacement, putting her own spin on the broadcast. Joe was seated across from her.
This broadcast was different. It wasn't in studio, but was live in the auditorium of Mountain State, just a few miles from his home. It was a benefit for the school. It was packed. Tickets had actually been scalped for three to four times the original cost before the university clamped down.
"Well, Joe, to quote Yogi Berra, it's deja vu all over again."
He smiled sadly and made a small joke.
"Yeah, Babs, we have to stop meeting like this. How's Mike?"
"Still with me. Being a first time Dad was interesting, but he picked up on it pretty quick. When our third came along he seemed almost bored. But he loves us just as much as we do him. Life is good."
"I'm glad for you."
"Thanks."
She paused. For the first time in her life she wasn't anxious to start an interview. This man was her friend, and the pain he had gone through recently was almost too much for him to bear. He was quieter now, less prone to smile. Her heart went out to him.
"Before we start talking about you latest book, give us an update on the Annie Foundation."
He smiled, happy with the subject.
"As you remember, it started out with the original group corresponding. First came the website, then the blog. Before we knew it, it had spiraled out to something much more."
"When more women started joining, Jane and Anne realized it had gone past their ability to control. They turned it into a foundation, not just to help members, but any woman who needed it. They still run it, with help from professionals. I can't overemphasize the good they've done."
Babs read off a list.
"Scholarships, business loans akin to the African micro loan program, medical clinics for women, the list goes on and on.
"You know I'm a member, Anne 6537. I also sit on the regional advisory board."
"I also mentored Wendy Thomas, Annie 499. She got her associate degree, and now runs the quality control department at Apex. It's the only place she's ever worked. She says she owes her whole life to you."
Joe blushed slightly.
"I think she over states my contribution just a little. She was and is a determined young woman, she would have done well eventually in some field."
"You'll never convince her of that, Joe. I know for a fact you've changed quite a few lives through your writing and appearances. You changed mine."
"Please Babs, this is getting embarrassing."
"Sorry."
She paused, then took the plunge.
"So, Joe, I know you have adamantly refused interviews to discuss your latest book. You refused to do any of the publicity functions that a writer usually has to go through when a new book comes out. Despite that, it became a huge seller, captivating readers around the world. Why now, and with me?"
"Because I know you and trust you. You're very good at asking the right questions, getting unexpected answers. I guess that's why CBS courted you."
"Plus, being on PBS allows me the time to do it justice, instead of condensing it down to a five minute sound bite."
"Thanks, but this time before I start asking, why don't you give us the reasons why you wrote the book, and how it came about."
This is going to be so hard, he thought, but I want, no I need to get it right. Apologies in private aren't as powerful as ones in public, and for the sake of his soul he had to be as public as possible. He owed her that much.
"Babs, I don't know if you're old enough to remember him, but there was a great commentator on radio years ago named Paul Harvey. He became famous for 'The Rest Of The Story', commentaries about famous people or popular topics where he goes past where everyone else did and dug into the back story. They were insightful, and made you view the person or story in a whole new light."
"This is my Paul Harvey book. It's the rest of the story. The story of Annie."
For a brief moment he closed his eyes, reviewing the last two years of his life. Then he started his narrative.
I got home and Maria was sitting at the kitchen table. It appeared she had been crying.
My first thought was of the children. Had something happened?
A J had three now, two boys and Bunny. She was thirteen now, beginning to show the woman she would become.
Mickey was a lawyer, practicing in Chicago.
Tony was a professional baseball player, in AAA. He knew and I knew he would never make the big leagues, he was going to make use of his engineering degree come next winter.
The twins had graduated, Tina was a teacher in Grant City, their hometown, and Cassie had stayed close, getting a high tech job locally. They had gone to different colleges, leaving the twin mentality behind them. Tina had married, a local boy, and was pregnant with her first.
"What's wrong, honey? Are the kids all right?"
"They're fine. You got a package today, from Rio."
"Rio? As in Brazil? Who do we know there?"
The tears started falling.
"Annie."
I hadn't thought of her much in years. The pain faded over time, with help from Maria and the kids.
She had refused to speak to me the last time I had seen her, and I left it at that.
We had moved to the mountains of North Carolina. Tony had gotten a baseball scholarship to Mountain State. We helped him move down and fell in love with the area.
I liked the Chicago area just fine as far as people, but I was a Southern boy, and hated the winters. The mountains of North Carolina was far enough South to make me happy, and had enough of a winter to suit the family.
We were driving around, doing the tourist thing. We were on a back road, on the way to some where else, when we saw the house.
Huge, white, two story. A typical farmhouse of the era, built at a time when large families were the norm. It was a bit run down but in good structural shape. It had a real estate sign out front. 'For sale, with acreage'. Without consulting Maria I pulled into the driveway.
"Why are we stopping?"
"Curiosity."
We had the twins with us, Tony was settling into his dorm, embracing college life. Maria was a little sad. The twins were all that was left, and in just a few years we would have an empty nest. This bothered Maria quite a bit.
I walked out back and was sold. the house sat just under a ridge, overlooking a small valley. At the top was a small waterfall, about twenty feet, turning into a pretty large creek running through the center, joined by three small streams along the way. Almost exactly opposite of the house on the other ridge was a small log cabin, just barely visible.
I made up my mind, Even If I couldn't live here I wanted this house.
Maria was captivated by the view also, and we agreed with some work it would make a nice vacation home. We were surprised when the realtor told us the whole valley, three hundred forty acres, came with the house.
"All we need is the house and a few acres. Can we split that off from the rest of the property?"
"No, it can't be divided. The whole valley is considered a flood plain, no structures can be built on it. About all it's good for is timber and pasture. It's part of the original homestead from the eighteen forties."
"But," said the realtor, "Because it is flood plain it's not valued at much. Plus, it's been on the market for a good while, I'm sure the owners would be glad to negotiate."
It was more than we wanted but we got it for two thirds the asking price.
The house had twelve rooms and three fireplaces, including the one in the kitchen.
It was a floor to ceiling remodel, luckily the house was just new enough to exempt it from historical property laws. We rented a condo while the work was in progress, and by the time the house was done we decided to stay permanently.
The house was beautiful when it was done. My State magazine did a spread, showing pictures of the house and the states' newest celebrity couple.
The twins did their last year of high school there. They were teased unmercifully for being rich Yankees. But their beauty, charm, and intelligence soon had everyone won over. Many a young Southern boy seriously considered crossing the Mason Dixon line.
We integrated into the community. I took up gardening and found I enjoyed it immensely. Maria joined several civic organizations just to keep busy.
Through one of the charities she worked with she met and became friends with the wives of J.G. Wilson, a retired college dean and popular writer. It was inevitable we would be thrown together.
He was an odd man. Completely self possessed, he had risen from very humble beginnings. He had lived with his wife and another woman as lovers while attending college, and after thirty years apart the had reconnected. She was openly living with them as a second wife and lover to both.
He got me to do a few guest lectures, and write a piece or two for the local paper.
I would write for the Wall Street Journal and the New Yorker on a semi regular basis, and once or twice a month I would do a speaking engagement.
They paid me ridiculously high fees, and I donated half to the Annie Foundation religiously.
I was in my early sixties and Maria was in her middle fifties. Time had taken its toll on both of us. We were both thicker, and her amazing bust had succumbed to the laws of gravity and time. They still excited me, though, every time I got to see them.
We were happy, and I was content to quietly fade away, when we got the package.
She had written Maria a long letter, one she never shared with me, and begged her to get me to watch the DVD she had included.
The pain all came surging back.
"It's been over twelve years, now she wants to communicate? I'm not sure I'm interested."
She wiped her eyes.
"I think you need to see what she has to say, Joe. If it bothers you too much, you can stop."
With dread I loaded the DVD and hit play.
She was sitting on a patio, in partial shade. She looked a lot like I had seen her in Spain, kerchief tied round her head. She was smiling.
"Hello, Joe. What I wouldn't give to see your face right now. I hope you are healthy, and that Maria is treating you well."
"Don't worry, I won't make communicating with you a habit. But it's time, no, it's way past due, for me to tell you a few things, and offer an apology."
She sniffled.
"Damn, I thought this would be easier after all these years. Well, here it goes."
"I'm sorry, Joe, more so than you could ever imagine. The way I left you was cold. You deserved better. I could never imagine the pain and bitterness I caused you, but I have a pretty good idea, from reading your books, and listening to your interviews."
"Bear with me now, you may not like what I tell you, but it has to be said."
She hung her head, before looking into the camera.
"Damn you, Joe! Damn you for not loving me enough to keep me. You should have come after me. If you has shown up in Spain just after I left and told me to stop this silly shit and come back home, I would have left without packing."
"I would have gladly come home and begged your forgiveness right up to the divorce. Then it was like, oh well, I'm done with her."
"Let me tell you why I left. It'll hurt you, but in the end it might help you hold onto Maria."
"I left because I thought you stopped loving me. I know better now, but not then. I was all right until A J grew up, and then I found myself alone. You were there, you just weren't paying attention."
"I loved the little trips I took when A J was home. I had made a few friends with the same interests, but the trips weren't that much fun anymore after she left. You should have been with me, sharing the experience. But you hated to travel, so you left me alone and unprotected."
"When I moped around, hoping to get you to spend more time with me, you suggested getting hobbies. I read into that, "don't bother me", so I didn't.
"I was lonely, and Ramon was at the right place at the right time. I don't think he was a predator, but he was opportunistic."
"He told me what I wanted to hear, that I was desirable and attractive. I started sleeping with him. I gave you all kinds of signs, trying to get you to rescue me, but as usual, you ignored me."
"So I left. It was a poor decision, one I got stuck with."
She looked into the camera, eyes blazing.
"You destroyed me three times, Joe. The first was when you ignored me and caused me to doubt my own self worth."
"Ramon and I split up fairly early. When you got right down to it, we just didn't have much in common. Plus, he thought we were going to live a life of luxury and ease. When I told him I was going to invest most of my money and we were going to have to find jobs, it was the beginning of the end for us."
"You remember me complaining about headaches there at the end? Probably not. It got worse in Spain. When I met residency requirements I went to the doctors. Come to find it out, I had early onset menopause. But the biggie was the brain tumor they found. It wasn't malignant, but it was growing, and pressing on my brain, specifically the part used in decision making and reasoning."
"So, between you ignoring me, menopause rampant hormones, and a brain tumor I wasn't making the best decisions concerning my life. A cosmic confluence of shattering consequences."
"Obviously, I survived the operation. Ramon actually stood by me until I recovered, then left. I started getting better, becoming more balanced, when your GODDAMNED BOOK hit the stores. You succeeded in destroying me again."
"I had to quit my tour guide job, they were actually marketing me as an attraction. It wouldn't have been so bad if you hadn't put my picture on the cover. I should have sued your ass off for not getting permission."
"I actually thought about it, but realized I would come off as the pathetic ex wife trying to cash in on your success, and pride wouldn't let me. So I quit my job and moved."
"I was asked to do some interviews and declined for the same reason. By then you were being touted as St. Joe the Wronged, and any way I worded it would still look like a whining attempt at revenge. I saw a few of your interviews, and it was obvious you were starting to believe your own press. So I sucked it up."
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