Monthly Archives: June 2018

Dogged Ma; chapter five

 

Chapter Five

First thing I did when I got home was take a bubble bath.  Well, second thing after tucking my Hermes scarf safely in my dresser drawer.  I deserved the bubbles after such a harrowing experience, and I could soak as long as I liked since I didn’t have to get up at any certain time tomorrow.  I was luxuriating in a milk bubble bath with candles flickering, the late, great Barry White on the CD player.  I had a glass of red wine from which I periodically sipped.  I closed my eyes as the tension ebbed from my body.  I didn’t want to think about anything, and a bubble bath was the only thing that allowed me not to think.  Well, that and cleaning, but I was in no mood to clean.  A slob by nature, I turned into Donna Reed on crack when I cleaned.  If I had been a fifties’ housewife, I would have had to be sedated 24/7 because somebody would always be tracking dirt on MY CLEAN FLOOR.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”  I sighed at the sound of God’s voice.  He seemed to take a perverse delight visiting me while I was laving.  I wondered if there was something salacious in this occurrence.  “It’s the only time you’re not occupied with anything else,” God said, sounding amused.  “Besides which, it’s the only time you really relax.  A relaxed you bodes better for our conversations.”

“Dual monologues,” I interposed, still not opening my eyes.  “You say Your thing and I say my thing, but they don’t often intersect.”  I paused as I loofahed my elbow.  “To what do I owe this pleasure?”  I wasn’t the most gracious of hosts, granted, but He wasn’t the most gracious of guests, either, so that made us even.

“Just wanted to see how the evening went,” God said, His voice casual.  I finally looked at Him and saw that He had chosen purple this time.  It was a good color on Him, but I loath to tell Him so.  He seemed to have more good colors than bad, which made sense, I supposed.

“What was so urgent You had to leave?”  I countered, closing my eyes again.  I didn’t want to become accustomed to the sight of God in all His glory; I just wanted Him to go away.

“Can’t tell you,” God said tersely.  “I had to leave Zeke in charge.”

“What exactly does Zeke do?”  I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.  Of course, I’d read about the Angel of Death and all his duties, but Zeke didn’t seem to fit the stereotype.  He certainly wasn’t as good-looking or compassionate as the Angel of Death on that angel show some time ago—the one with the Irish angel and the African-American angel.

“Trade secret,” God said briskly.  I peeked at Him, only to find Him staring at me in return.  I closed my eyes again.  “I told you to tell Ned’s parents before the shindig, not after.”

“What difference would it have made?”  I exclaimed, sitting straight up in the tub and opening my eyes at the same time.  When I realized I was flashing my breasts at God, well, I sunk back down in a hurry.  This was getting old.  There had to be some way to keep the Almighty out of my bathroom.

“Not a chance,” God said cheerfully, humming a tune under his breath.  It took me a minute to recognize it as ‘I Like the Way You Move’ by Big Boi of Outkast.  Great.  God’s a rap fan.  Who would have figured?  “The difference is that the Changs would have went through with the party and would have time to simmer down.”

“You really are an optimist, aren’t You?”  I asked, my tone incredulous.  “Telling them before would have been worse because their indignation would have had time to grow.  Mr. Chang carries a grudge like nobody I’ve seen before.  One time, an acquaintance of his didn’t say hi to him as they crossed paths downtown, and Mr. Chang didn’t speak to him for a year.  There is no way in hell that he would have calmed down about Ned being gay, especially if we’d told him with his friends there.”

“At least you got a date out of it,” God said, sounding impossibly smug.

“Did you send Ted to dinner tonight?”  I asked suspiciously.  I wouldn’t put it past Him to pull a stunt like that.

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Dogged Ma: Chapter four, part three

Chapter Four, Part Three

“How dare you,” Mr. Chang boomed, the minute everybody was gone.  He turned his wrath upon me, and it was pretty awesome to behold.  Unfortunately for him, I didn’t scare easily.  Besides, I’d done battle with the Angel of Death and came out of it no worse for the wear, so really, what could Mr. Chang do to me?  On top of that, I couldn’t die, so I figured I could handle anything else.  “You embarrassed Mrs. Chang and me in front of our dearest friends.  Edward, I’m not sure you should be marrying this girl.  She’s no good for you.”

“Dear, I agree with your father,” Mrs. Chang said, nodding her head several times.  “While I’m sure Margaret is a lovely girl,” she sent an insincere smile my way; “she just doesn’t fit in with the family, you understand?”

“I understand,” I broke in.  Might as well go for broke.  “I have too many of my own opinions to be a satisfactory Chang wife.  I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut and my legs spread.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Mr. Chang shouted, his fact turning red.  I wanted to tell him to sit down so he wouldn’t have a heart attack, but I figured it was Ned’s turn to speak.  Which he did after an eon.

“Mom, Dad, I need you to sit down and listen,” Ned said, struggling to keep his voice steady.  He stood ramrod straight, clutching my hand as if it were a lifesaver.  His grasp was clammy, which meant he was experiencing abject fear.  Mr. and Mrs. Chang looked at each other before simultaneously lowering themselves on the divan.  Mrs. Chang peered expectantly at Ned whereas Mr. Chang looked as if he was waiting for a bomb to drop.  I squeezed Ned’s hand to give him strength, which spurred him to continue.  “I have something to tell you.  There’s no easy way to say it, so I’m just going to blurt it out.”  He took a deep breath, looking from his mother to his father.  “I’m gay.”  He tensed his body as if awaiting a blow.  Knowing what I knew of Mr. Chang, it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.  He believed in ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’.

“What did you just say?”  Mr. Chang asked, starting to rise.  I tensed my body as well, prepared to get Ned the fuck out of there if things got too dicey.

“I said—”

“I heard what you said,” Mr. Chang interrupted, on his feet by now.  Mrs. Chang, looking shell-shocked, stayed frozen in place.  “You come into my house and start talking that kind of filth?  Your mother and I didn’t raise you like that.”  He was advancing towards Ned who watched his father approaching as if his father were a snake.  “It’s this girl, isn’t it?  She’s been a bad influence on you—got you thinking things that aren’t true.”  I almost laughed at that one.  Who got me drunk the first time?  Why, Ned, of course.  Who took me to get my first tattoo?  Ned again.  Who scoped out the boys to make sure I didn’t fall for a gay boy?  Ding, ding, ding!  It wasn’t I who corrupted Ned but the other way around.  Besides, why the hell would I want Ned to be gay?  That didn’t benefit me in any way.

“Dad, please,” Ned said, holding up a hand.  I was glad to see him not backing down, but I thought it might be prudent to leave so his parents had time to digest Ned’s proclamation.

“Ned, maybe—”  That was as far as I got before Mr. Chang reached me and pushed me to the ground.

“Shut up!”  He screamed, totally out of control.  “It’s all your fault, you stupid cunt, for making him this way.”  I sat on the floor in shock, stunned that he’d actually pushed me over, not to mention him calling me a cunt.  I paid no attention to what else he was saying as it didn’t make any sense, but I could feel my tailbone bruising.

“Dad, no!”  Ned shouted, his eyes flashing.

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Dogged Ma: Chapter four, part two

Chapter Four, Part Two

“Girl, you are so working that dress,” Ned said, snapping his fingers as he looked me up and down.  “I swear I must be gay because even the sight of you looking so luscious isn’t enough to get me hard.”

“Thanks, I think,” I said as I locked the door behind me.  “You look pretty hot yourself.”  He was wearing a custom-made tux which fit him perfectly.  His tie and cummerbund were silver, which I liked better than black.  “So, what have you decided?”

It turned out that he hadn’t, so we had to hash out the pros and cons the whole way to his parents’ house.  I suggested that we say he jumped the gun a little bit because he’d been thinking of proposing, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.  Then I could say that I was the one who’d turned him down, therefore saving face for his parents in front of their guests.  Ned didn’t want to make me the bad guy, however, as it was his fault we were in this mess.  I didn’t mind taking the rap if it would make things easier for him.  He was determined to tell his parents the truth, but couldn’t decide if it was better before or after the get-together.  It was hard to say because either way, he was fucked.  Either way, his parents lost face.  We reluctantly agreed that the best thing to do was to go through with the party and tell his parents after.  Then they could tell their friends I’d dumped him or some such nonsense.

“You’re the best,” Ned said, squeezing my hand.  “That’s for you.”  He waved vaguely in the direction of the backseat, and I carefully undid my seatbelt so I could grab the package.  I turned back around and buckled up for safety—not that I really needed to—before opening the nicely-wrapped gift.  Inside was a Hermes scarf that was a luscious blend of silver and plum.

“Oh, Ned, it’s beautiful,” I sighed, holding it up to my neck and admiring myself in the mirror in my visor.  It didn’t match my dress so I didn’t put it on, but I mentally planned my outfit for Monday to include some purple so I could wear the scarf.  On second thought, scratch that.  It was too high-toned for where I worked.  “Why can’t straight men have your sense of fashion?”  I mourned, carefully packing the scarf away and stowing it under my seat.  “It’s just not fair.”

“We’re here,” Ned said tersely, both hands gripping the wheel.  I patted him on the knee to calm him down, but I didn’t think it helped.  He parked the car and rooted through his pocket, bringing out a small box.  “Put this on.”  He opened it, and a diamond ring sparkled within the box.  I gasped because I’d never seen a rock that big—except for on his mother’s hand, of course.

“Ned, you didn’t buy that, did you?”  I couldn’t even touch it for fear I’d break it or something.

“No, it’s my grandmother’s.  My mother gave it to me to give to you.”  Ned slipped the ring onto my third finger, and it fit me perfectly.  I couldn’t take my eyes off it; it was so shiny.  “I guess we have to go in.”  He walked around to my side of the car where I was ready and waiting.

“You’ll be fine,” I said softly as Ned helped me out of the car.  I normally didn’t go in for that girly shit, but something about wearing a formal dress brought out the genteel in me.  Not to mention a rock the size of Gibraltar. “You have God on your side, remember?”  Ned smiled wanly as he offered me his arm.  The ring on my finger felt heavy, though I knew it was just my imagination.  I wouldn’t breathe easily until I gave the ring back to Ned, which would be at the end of the evening, hopefully.

“Darling!  You look beautiful!”  Mrs. Chang air-kissed me, critically checking out my outfit.  She was a tall, languid woman with jet-black hair that came from a bottle these days.  It was pulled up in a severe chignon, and she was wearing a black dress that looked like a Vera Wang.  Knowing her, it was.  Big diamonds glittered from her neck and ears, as well as her wrists and fingers.  She was attractive only because she had the money to achieve a certain style.  “Edward, you look so handsome as well.”  Mrs. Chang fussed with Ned’s bow tie, though he had tied it perfectly.

“Margaret, so good to see you,” Mr. Chang boomed, engulfing me in a warm hug.  He was a good-looking man, also over six-feet tall.  It was easy to see where Ned had gotten his looks from.  Mr. Chang’s hand strayed south of the border for a nanosecond.  I still couldn’t get over this highly-religious man copping a feel every time he saw me, but I wasn’t going to make a fuss this time around.  There were more important things to think about, namely how to break it to Ned’s parents that he was gay.

“The ring looks perfect on your finger,” Mrs. Chang cooed, holding my hand up to the light.  “My mother would have been so happy.”  A tear showed up in the corner of her surgically-enhanced eye, but it didn’t dare fall.  “You two make such a striking couple.”

“It’s about time you two got married.  You’re getting on in years, Margaret.  You and Edward will want to start having children right away.  You’ll have them baptized at the Taiwanese church, of course.”  Mr. Chang still had his hand on my back as he guided me towards the living room.  I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t say something inflammatory, such as that I was already pregnant with a child who needed no blessing.  Mr. Chang brought out the worst in me, and we’d had quite the rows in the past.  However, I kept repeating my mantra that nothing mattered except getting Ned through the night, and I was able to ignore Mr. Chang’s blathering.

“I was thinking of rose and ivory for your colors,” Mrs. Chang said to me, swooping on me from the other side.  Mr. Chang dropped back, presumably to exhort Ned to do his manly duty and procreate.  “I think you would look lovely in ivory.  We Asians have the perfect skin tone for it.  I know Vera Wang personally, and I think I could get her to whip up an original for you.  Wouldn’t that be grand?  What color do you think your mother will be wearing so I don’t clash with her?  She would look stunning in a dark blue whereas I look my best in black.  Oh, I know it’s considered taboo in some circles to wear black to a wedding, but it’s so slimming.”  She was skeletal, but that wasn’t the point, I guess.  I didn’t contribute to the conversation because I was having a difficult time not gagging.

“Tell them now,” a voice boomed in my head.  “Don’t let this farce go on any longer.”

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Dogged Ma: Chapter four, part one

Chapter Four, Part One

“Margaret—earth to Margaret!  Where did you go?”  I snapped back to earth to find my friend, Jenna, staring expectantly at me.  My two other friends, Belinda and Caryn, were staring as well.  I had lunch with them one Saturday a month, and this was it.  I hadn’t wanted to go, but I knew I’d catch serious hell from them if I didn’t.  We’d been friends since college, but maybe it was time to loosen the apron strings.  I didn’t find them nearly as entertaining as I had when we were in school.  It had been two weeks since I found out I was pregnant, and I hadn’t heard from the Father in nearly a week.

“Honestly, Mags, you were a million light-years away.”  Belinda looked at me from under her lashes, fluffing her blond curls with her other hand.  She was the stunner of the group with her Barbie-doll figure and plump, full lips, and she knew it.  So even though she was ostensibly talking to me, she was playing to the table of appreciative yuppies who were ogling her quite openly.  Ah, the refined crowd of TGIF—what could possibly be better?  It hadn’t been my choice to come here, but I had been outvoted three to one.

“Girl, you’ve been out of it all day.  Spill.”  Jenna snapped her fingers at me.  She was the ‘hip’ one with her mod cut and Macy clothes.  Too bad her features were equine-like, similar to those of Princess Anne.  Or was it Margaret?  Whichever was the horsey-one.  Still, it didn’t stop her from getting laid which went to show that if you had a great bod and money, you only needed a passable face.

“There must be a new man in your life,” Caryn said, nodding her head knowingly.  She was Asian like me, but Japanese rather than Taiwanese.  I didn’t hold her tiny figure against her as she didn’t act like your typical Japanese American Princess.  She was tough as nails, and she had a black belt in taekwondo.  Any guy who thought he could mess with her usually ended up with a black eye or crushed testicles.

“No,” I said, sipping at my margarita.  Damned if I was going to give up alcohol before it was strictly necessary.  “I just, uh, it’s a work thing.  One of my kids is in trouble.  You know, the usual.”  I sent a silent apology to my students who’d been unusually good this past week.  My slander meant that one of them would be out of control this week; I was resigned to it.

“Uh, huh.”  Belinda nodded her head, cutting her eyes to the yuppies who were still eyeing her.  “I’m with Caryn.  There’s a boy involved.  Who is he?”  The three of them turned their attention to me, which was a bit disconcerting.

I hadn’t told them about being pregnant yet because what the fuck could I say?  The Lord, our Father, decided that I should be the next Mother of God?  Oh, and it’s a girl, but He promised not to kill her this time around?  It sounded crazy to my ears, and I’d met Him, so I knew they wouldn’t believe me.  I half-expected God to come down out of the sky as was His wont, but He didn’t.  Briefly, I wondered what’d happened to Him, but I had more important things to consider.  Like what to tell the three stooges looking at me so avidly.  I knew that nothing less than an epic romance would satisfy this trio, but I didn’t want to lie.  I felt as if I had no choice, however, so I gave it the old college try.

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Dogged Ma: Chapter three, part two

Chapter Three, Part Two

“What are you going to tell people?”  Ned asked, wisely dropping the argument.  He knew that I was stubborn and contrary.  The more he argued, the more I would dig in my heels and hiss at him.  “I mean, you can’t tell people that you’re carrying the next savior, can you?”

“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly struck by the enormity of the situation.  What was I going to tell people?  Obviously, I’d have to tell them I was pregnant, but I’d have to come up with a cover story, wouldn’t I?  No way in hell was I going to tell anybody that I was the Mother of God before it was necessary.  I liked my freedom, thank you very much, and I didn’t relish the thought of giving it up voluntarily.  More to the point, what was I going to tell my mother?  Oh, God.  She wanted me to have kids, but not out of wedlock.  Shit.  God wasn’t planning on making me marry someone, was He?

“No, I’m not,” God thundered in my brain.  I winced at the volume and silently asked Him to turn it down.  “Sorry.  Zeke is yakking my ear off so I can’t tell how loudly I’m talking.”  Zeke?  Talking up a storm.  This I had to see.  No, I didn’t.  I shuddered at the thought of a garrulous Zeke.  “I want you to be a single mother.  It’s part of the plan.”

“You’ve gone nuts, Lord,” I said silently.  Ned and Wind were talking a mile a minute and had no idea that I was having my own private conversation.  “What else are You going to burden this child with?  You are trying to kill her, aren’t You?”

“No, I’m not.  I just need the world to stand up and take notice.  You people need to see reason—only something drastic will do.  Oops.  I must go.  Zeke and I need to talk over a few details about the Ukraine.  For the record, I was never on Bush’s side, and he was an idiot for trusting Putin.  You tell him that if you ever meet him.  Oh, and tell him he’s a horrible painter, too.”

“Yeah, right.”  I felt God leave me, which still jolted me.  I tuned back into the conversation going on between Ned and Wind.  Predictably, they were arguing about God.  As I had had just about enough of God, I tuned them out and ate my eggs which were getting cold.  I gulped down my milk, then refilled my glass.  Suddenly, I had a craving for chocolate so I took two truffles out of the fridge and brought them into the living room.  Ned and Wind broke off their conversation to turn and stare at me.

“What?  I’m craving chocolate.  I am eating for two now, you know.”  That was going to be one of the only perks about this whole mess—I got to eat as much as I wanted.

“It’s not good for the baby,” Wind said, voicing her disapproval.  “Too much caffeine.”

“I hate to break it to you, Wind, but it doesn’t matter with this child.”  I patted my stomach as if there was something really there.  “God said I could smoke and drink as much as I wanted, so I presume that means I can eat as much chocolate as I want as well.  I better, or I’m going to be one big, bad bitch from now until this baby is born.”

“Did She really say that?”  Wind asked dubiously.

“Yes, I did,” God boomed down, this time audible to all of us.

“Will You quit that?”  I shrieked, my nerves on edge.  “I can’t take You dropping in like that!  Please!”

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Dogged Ma: Chapter three, part one

Chapter Three, Part One

“Girl, you better open up this door.”  Ned was pounding on my door, and he sounded upset.  How the hell did he get in my apartment building?  Some yahoo must have let him in.  All he’d have to do was smile and bat his eyelashes, and there wasn’t a single person—male or female—who could resist him.  It was the Saturday after God had made His little visit—if it was, indeed, Him—and I was in a funk.  I hadn’t answered any calls from my friends for the past three days, which was unlike me.

“Margaret!  We need to see if you’re still breathing.”  It was Wind, which meant she and Ned had talked about me.  Wind’s real name was Wendy Greenwood, but she preferred Wind in accordance with her favorite element of nature.  Well, she had a key.  She could use it if she really wanted.  Come to think of it, Ned had one as well, but it probably wasn’t on his key chain.  Wind had about a zillion keys on her key ring, so I bet mine was there, too.  I shook my head impatiently.  What the fuck was I doing ruminating about keys?  Even though it was one in the afternoon, I was still in bed.  I had managed to make it through the week at work, but I fell into bed the minute I came home last night and only got up to go to the bathroom and eat a bit.  Otherwise, I’d spent the last eighteen hours or so in bed.  I couldn’t stand what God had done to me, and I wasn’t handling it well at all.

“Girl, use your key.  I left my copy at home.  I didn’t think she wouldn’t let us in.”  That was my boy, using his head, damn him.  Sooner than I’d like, they were bursting into my bedroom.

“Margaret, what are you still doing in bed?  You’re ruining your biorhythms.”  That was Wind, coming out with something New-Agey.  She was six-feet tall in her stocking feet with a slimness stemming from being vegan.  Her flaming red hair and luminous green eyes were nicely set off by her delicate white skin.  She dressed in typical hippie fashion with tons of scarves and long, flowing skirts.  Despite her loopy appearance and somewhat eccentric beliefs, she was a dear friend.

“Girl, you need to get out of this apartment.”  Ned snapped his fingers, his dark eyes intense.  “You look as if you’ve been brooding, and you know how that goes to your head.”  Not for the first time, I wondered why Ned couldn’t be at least bi.  He was even taller than Wind, and I liked my men tall.  And buff.  And good enough to eat.  And Asian.

“What’s wrong, Margaret?”  Wind asked, her brow furrowed.  “Your aura is very dark right now.  But…I sense vigorous life inside of you.”  Her eyes widened.  “Are you pregnant?”  Did I mention she was a touch psychic?  “Oh, you are!  Who’s the father?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, turning away from them and burrowing under my blankets.  How could I tell them the truth without sounding like I was headed for the loony bin?  Granted, Wind was into all things Wiccan, and Ned was a devout Christian, but this was something out of the ordinary, even for them.  I still couldn’t believe it, so how could they?  Ned was Christian, but how would he react to me as the next Mother of God?  Wind didn’t even believe in God, so there’s no way she would understand.

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Dogged Ma: Chapter two

Chapter Two 

“Ahhh, that feels good.”  I dropped into my tub, thankful for the overflow of bubbles.  I had just come home from working out, and I always treated myself to a bubble bath right after.  It was my reward for working hard, and it was all that got me through the last ten minutes of my workouts.  I closed my eyes, luxuriating.

“Ahem.”  Someone cleared his throat—it was definitely a him—and my eyes flew open in terror.  Standing before me was a man of slight build, but incredibly tall.  He had white-blond hair which flowed down his back and really light blue eyes which were almost white.  He was dressed in a white Armani suit which fit as if it’d been made for him.  If it was an Armani, then it probably was made especially for him.  He looked vaguely like Jason Isaacs as Lucius Malfoy in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, but dressed in white.  I blinked twice, sure that I was hallucinating.  When I realized I wasn’t, I screamed.

“Who the fuck are you?  How the fuck did you get in my bathroom?”  I felt horribly vulnerable being naked in a bathtub with a stranger standing over me.  Granted, I was covered in bubbles, but that didn’t bring me much comfort.  Why the hell hadn’t I brought my cell phone in here as I normally did?  Because I wanted fucking privacy, that’s why.  Never again, damn it.  As these thoughts ran through my head, the man said nothing.  So I tried again.  “Answer me, you sick son of a bitch.  Who the fuck are you?”  I wanted to threaten him, but it was useless.  Anything I said would be an obvious bluff, so I waited to see what he’d do.  Or say.  I wasn’t too picky at this point.

“You’re not going to believe this,” the man said in a low voice.  There was something odd about it.  It didn’t sound quite human, but I couldn’t pinpoint the reason.  “So do me the favor of shutting up while I tell you a little story, OK?”

“As if I have a fucking choice.  How the fuck did you get in here, anyway?”  I racked my brains to remember if I’d locked the door, but I couldn’t recall.  I forgot once in a while, so perhaps it was my fault this lunatic was in my bathroom.  There was a buzzer at the front door, but it was easy enough to con someone into opening the door.  As this man made no move towards me, and I couldn’t do anything else, I resigned myself to hearing what the fucker had to say.

“I am here on a mission.  You are an important part of that mission.  You have no choice in the mission, but I would like you to be willing.”  The man enunciated the words as if he’d grown up watching BBC, though no trace of a British accent was to be found.  Oh, Lord.  I had a crazy on my hands.  I just prayed he wouldn’t rape me or kill me.  Or torture me.  Or make me watch Lifetime movies.  I’d give him all the cash in my house if he would just—

“I don’t want your money,” the man said impatiently, his eyes flashing.  Strange, they turned a dark blue as they flashed before reverting to almost white when they were still.

“Huh?”  I must have said it out loud, though I could have sworn I’d only said it in my head.

“Ok, there isn’t any way to ease into this, so I’m just going to be blunt with you.”  The man paused, looking as if he wished for all the world that he could smoke a cigarette.  I almost offered him one, but something in his face told me he would find the offer objectionable.  “I am God.  You are the chosen one.  I have waited many eons for you, and now, here you are.”  He paused, waiting for a response.  I stared at him, convinced that he was out of his mind.  It took a couple of seconds for what he’d said to sink into my mind, but when it did, I burst out laughing.  I wasn’t scared any more—just confused.

“You’re from one of those reality shows, aren’t you?  Like Punk’d or something like that.  Is Ashton Kutcher hiding outside the door?  You almost had me there.  Me, the chosen one.  Ha, ha, ha.  Very funny.  Now get the fuck out of my apartment.”  I closed my eyes and leaned back.  OK, not the best move with a stranger in my bathroom, but I was exhausted after an especially grueling workout with my merciless trainer, Katya.  Katya was from the former Soviet Union, and she didn’t know the meaning of the word pain.  Or stop, either, for that matter.  Or mercy—

“Margaret, I’m serious.”  The use of my name caught me, and I opened my eyes again.  “Look, I’ll go into your living room so you can get out and put some clothes on.  Then we’ll talk.”  He disappeared before I could say anything, not that I would have because I didn’t know what the fuck to say.  How the hell did this nutjob know who I was?  I slowly got out of the tub, wrapping my robe around me.  I hurried to my bedroom to put on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.  I wanted to look unattractive as possible in case this guy was going to try to pounce on me.  Granted, it would have been easier for him to make a move while I was in the tub, but you never knew.  I grabbed my cell phone while I was at it, just in case I had to call 9-1-1.  I took a deep breath and walked out into the living room where the guy was lounging on my couch.  He turned to look at me as I entered.  I tried to determine his age, but he was ageless.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the other end of the couch.  The nerve!  Inviting me to sit on my own couch!  Just to be ornery, I sat in the hard-backed chair facing him.

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Dogged Ma: Chapter one

Chapter One

“Shit,” I exclaimed, hastily stubbing out my cigarette in the overflowing ashtray by my bed.  I didn’t smoke very often, but when I did, I usually finished half a pack to a pack in a few hours.  I glanced at my bed, disgruntled to find my girl toy for the night still slumbering there.  I needed to get rid of her as my very-Christian, old-country mother was coming over this afternoon for another chance to lecture me about being unmarried at age thirty-two.  I got up and stretched, pleasurably aware of the ache in my body.  The girl toy had been a hellcat in bed, which pleasantly surprised me because she was one of those hippie-dippy types.  If I hadn’t been drunk out of my mind and horny as hell, I would never have taken her home.  It’s a good thing to be desperate once in a while, I guess, but I didn’t want to make a habit of it.

“Hey,” the girl toy smiled, licking her lips.  Apparently, she’d awakened while I’d been ruminating about how to throw her out.  “Ready for round two?”  She reached her arms to me, allowing the sheets to slip from her full breasts.  I felt a jump in my stomach that told me I was, indeed, ready to go again.  However, I make it a policy never to fuck a toy two days in a row.  In fact, I preferred they didn’t spend the night, but I’d pretty much passed out after we’d fucked, so I hadn’t been able to kick her out last night.  I really should have, however, as the girls tended to cling if they thought there was any hope for a relationship.  As I had just ended a long-term relationship with my boyfriend of five years, I didn’t need complications.

“Sorry.  You gotta go.”  I wrapped my robe around my body, firmly tying the sash to underline my point.  “It’s been nice and all, but….”  I looked pointedly at the clock on the nightstand, hoping it would be enough to get her ass out of my bed.  Instead, she snuggled against my goose feather-filled pillows and simply smiled.  She didn’t bother covering her breasts which was how I knew she was still in the mood to play.  My desire for her was waning as I didn’t like coyness.  If I said I didn’t want more sex, then that was that.  I didn’t want some minx trying to cajole me or change my mind; she was starting to irritate me.

“Come on, Margaret,” she pouted, pushing out her lower lip.  What the fuck was she doing?  She was supposed to be the Earth Mother type, not the flirting coquette.  I really must stop picking up toys after a night of heavy drinking.  “I want to play some more.”  She threw the covers off her so I could see her admittedly lush naked body.  She had the figure of a Reuben woman, with the wide hips people liked to call ‘birthing hips’.  What was her name? Cammie?  Candy?  Something like that.

“Look, sweets,” I say, flexing my biceps ever so slightly.  I work out religiously, not wanting to be mistaken for a punk.  I also stretch daily to increase my flexibility.  “It’s time for you to go.  Don’t make a scene, OK?”

“I want to stay,” she said, her lower lip trembling slightly.  Ah, hell.  That’s what I get for going after the young ones.  This one was over twenty-one, but just barely.  I gotta toss the chickens back to the dogs, for sure.  What the hell was her name?  “I thought you liked me.  You’re the first woman I’ve been with.”  Well, shit.  If I had known she was a dyke virgin, I would never have brought her home.  I didn’t do newbies out of self-protection.  They either turn out clingy like this one or they freak out at doing something immoral.  I kinda wished this girl would be one of the latter so she’d flee on her own.  Carrie!  That’s her name.

“Carrie, baby,” I said, purposely sweetening my voice.  “You were great.  Really, but you just started swimming in the queer pool.  This is no time for you to latch on to one woman.  I mean, you didn’t go steady with the first boy you kissed, did you?”  I prayed she hadn’t.  “You need to know what’s out there before you settle down.”  I thought that was a pretty good rah-rah speech if I did say so myself, but it only succeeded in making the girl toy cry.

“My name is Carlie,” she wailed, her eyes scrunching shut.  “You can’t even remember my name!  I meant nothing to you.”  Shit, shit, shit.  My New Year’s Resolution was going to be that I never got drunk again.  Of course, it was only March which meant I had a quite a few months before I had to make the resolution, but good intentions counted for something, didn’t they?

“Carlie, see, that’s why I’m no good for you.  You need to find a woman who deserves you.”  I was developing a migraine, which I could ill-afford in facing my mother.  She was a human shark who scented any weakness and attacked with zest.  I vowed again never to get drunk and pick up a trick.  I never could handle my liquor, though it had nothing to do with being Asian.  I didn’t get the red cheeks; I just lost any inhibitions I had, which were few to begin with.  Before I could argue some more with Carrie, my cell phone rang.

“Yeah, what?”  I growled, not wanting to deal with whomever was on the other side of the wires.  However, I was constitutionally unable to not answer a ringing phone, so I was stuck.

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