Chapter 2

“You, you’re right,” Sheila agreed as she grabbed the outfit she would wear on the sales floor after the inventory was completed or the store was opened for business, whichever came first.

“I what?” her mother asked, surprised.

“No, no, you’re right,” Sheila agreed, walking to the door of the trailer.

Pausing by the door, she looked at her mother. She’d not realized how many wrinkles her mother’s face bore. She’d not seen all the threads of silver woven into the woman’s long mane of golden hair before. She’d not noticed the fifty or sixty extra pounds her mother packed onto her five foor one inch frame before. Briefly, Sheila wondered when her mother had become old. And, Sheila wondered if this was how she would look in sixteen, seventeen years.

“You’re right. I’m wasting my time with idiots like Shane and who was that last loser? Frank? No, no, it was Doug. And yeah, I’m just busting my ass working for nine bucks an hour; can’t even afford put gas in the car. And sooner or later? All this partying? It’s going catch up with me,” Sheila agreed.

“Will wonders never cease,” her mother said, hand dramatically on her heart.

“It is high time I grow up and start making some changes, some real changes in my life. So, after work today? No, no, they’ll be closed by then; at lunch time? I’m going swing by the Vo-Tech over on Turner; see what they can do,” Sheila said, opening the door of the trailer. “And Shane? Is history; I mean, he’s going nowhere and is just dragging me down with him. But you know, I did meet this really cute girl this morning so why not? I mean, hey, never know until you try, am I right?”

“Girl? Oh, oh no no,” her mother screeched as Sheila stepped out onto the metal grate steps of the trailer.

“Hey Mom?” Sheila said, preparing to close the door on her mother’s objections.

“What?” her mother asked. “Sheila, you can’t be serious; a girl? That’s just wrong. That’s just so wrong.”

“April fools!” Sheila squealed, slamming the door shut.

She laughed out loud as she heard her mother’s shrieks of indignation through the hollow core door. Getting into her car, Sheila drove to her job at the lingerie store. Ms. Carol, the pleasantly plump woman smiled as she unlocked the door for Sheila.

The work was tedious. In truth, it was mind-numbing in its repetition; count, each item against the shipping receipts. Tally up each sales receipt against remaining inventory. Move on to the next box, locate packing/shipping receipt for the particular box number and repeat. Dust was on many of the boxes and Miss Carol had to admit it was time for a drastic price reduction on the older merchandise.

Sheila groaned; sales were hard to manage when only specific items were on reduced sales. Customers did not, or pretended to not understand which items were on sale and which items were at regular price. True, she made commission on her sales but that was paltry, especially when compared to how much work she had to put into each customer interaction.

“Nine dollars an hour. Nine. Dollars and then you take out taxes and…” Sheila thought as they moved to the next box.

“Miss Carol, I might be a few minutes late for lunch,” Sheila decided as they finished the inventory at the Returns bin.

“Hmm? That, that’s fine,” the woman agreed, carefully examining a petite ivory colored baby doll and matching panties.

“Lace is ripped, right, here,” Sheila assisted, pointing to the miniscule tear in the material.

“Well, shoot. It is pretty, though. Too bad my petite days are long gone,” Carol agreed, then gifted the petite garment to the employee.

“Not really my style,” Sheila thought, knowing the top would not fit over her breasts; the front bow was very short.

Sheila hurried to the employee bathroom and cleaned her face. She then applied some cosmetics and wiggled into the lavender colored dress she’d selected to wear for her work day.

“Why’d I pick lavender?” Sheila smiled at her reflection.

“Well now, that’s a pretty dress,” Carol complimented as Sheila stepped from the dimly lighted stockroom to the brightly lit storefront.

“And it cost me almost a whole paycheck,” Sheila thought as she hurried to key her employee number into the cash register.

The morning dragged by; their location did not garner much traffic. Being at the end of the strip mall, next to a dentist’s office did little to attract new customers. The few women and one man that entered were greeted by an enthusiastic Sheila; she wanted the commission on her next paycheck.

“You said you needed a little extra time at lunch?” Carol reminded Sheila when the digital clock behind the register showed 11:44.

“Yes ma’am,” Sheila said, scurrying to the stockroom to retrieve her purse from her employee locker.

‘Need to borrow $500 for rent’ Shane had sent to her cell phone.

“Uh? And what about the three hundred you borrowed for what that was; your electric bill?” Sheila asked the cell phone.

She responded that Shane still owed her three hundred dollars. There was no response from him.

The receptionist at the Vocational Training Center in Sweet Oak, Texas was warm and friendly and very, very encouraging. She congratulated Sheila on desiring to make a positive change in her life and Sheila believed every word the young beauty told her.

“We will help you with grants and scholarships; yes, yes, there are scholarships available,” the woman assured Sheila. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Eagan Equipment? Or Garland’s Dairy?”

“But, I, God! Y’all, y’all have all these classes?” Sheila asked, truly overwhelmed at all the choices.

“We’ll do an assessment test,” the woman laughed. “I mean, some people? Walk in and know exactly what they want to do but others? Well, the test shows us where your strengths and weaknesses are and we can go from there.”

Sheila left the small, clean office with some brochures and the application form. More importantly, though, she left with a sense of hope. She saw that Shane had responded to her text, promising to repay the original three hundred dollars plus the five hundred dollars he needed for this month’s rent.

“How? Huh, Shane? How you going pay that back? Uh, remember? Got fired from Scandurro for failing a piss test?” Sheila asked the screen but made sure to save the text where Shane admitted he owed her three hundred dollars.

She grabbed a spicy chicken salad sandwich from Charger’s and wolfed it down in her car. While she chewed, she read over the list of available training courses. She smiled at some of the offerings.

“Welding, huh? Think I’d be good at that?” she asked herself as she wiped her mouth clean of the tangy sauce.

“Well that didn’t take you long,” Carol smiled as Sheila clocked into the register again.

“Nope but you never know,” Sheila agreed.

After her work day came to an end, Sheila dug her purse and new baby doll set from her locker. She paused for a long moment, debating with herself. She decided and marched over to the workbench and quickly did a gift wrap of the nightie.

In her car, she retrieved her cell phone and looked. She had three more text messages from Shane, again demanding/requesting five hundred dollars from her. Rather than responding to him, Sheila decided to simply block him. She also blocked Terry’s number. Had she had Amelia’s number, that would have been blocked as well but she and the older woman had not exchanged phone numbers.

“‘Cause you a bitch,” Sheila said out loud, thinking of the haggard, unfriendly woman.

“Now, why, why you doing this?” Sheila asked herself as she punched the address into her cell phone.

She still had no answer as she turned off of Perry Boulevard onto Saunders Drive. The GPS continued to squawk directions as Sheila drove the eight blocks from Perry toward 809 Saunders Drive.

809 Saunders Drive was not a cute little bungalow. It was a crumbling apartment building. Sheila did not even slow down as she drove through the neighborhood. A Latin male nodded his head as Sheila slowed for the stop sign and began to approach her car. She actually felt an impact when she sped away; she definitely herd the young man yelling at her.

“Uh? Duh! WEST. She said West Saunders; right before you get to Duvine,” Sheila remembered as she pulled onto Decatur Road.

The houses on West Saunders Drive were a tapestry of cute little homes interspersed by newer, slightly larger homes. 809 West Saunders Drive was a lively yellow color with deep brown trim. The flower boxes in front were filled with a vibrant mix of red and purple and white flowers. Sheila parked on the street, wondering, for the hundredth time why she was doing this.

“She seems like she could use a friend,” was the excuse Sheila gave herself and she grabbed the gaily wrapped Silksations gift box from her passenger seat.

“Suppose she ain’t home?” Sheila asked herself as she strolled along the cute, winding front walk from sidewalk to forest green front door.

“And suppose that Heidi girl showed up?” Sheila thought, feeling a sudden and unexpected jolt of jealousy in the pit of her stomach.

“Hello?” a disembodied voice called out from a speaker.

“I uh, hi, uh, Doll? Uh Dahlia? I, we, we met this morning?” Sheila said, yelling into the doorbell camera.

“Oh! It, it’s you! The beautiful blonde!” Doll enthused.

Sheila heard the padding of feet from within the house. She smiled, wondering at the amount of energy Doll must be expelling to create any sound at all; she seemed so small and light.

“Hi! oh shoot, I keep forgetting…” Doll said, flinging the door open only to have the very secure safety chain jerk the door closed again.

“Hi!” Sheila smiled a genuine smile at the cute red head’s enthusiastic greeting.

“Wait, how, how’d you know where I live?” Doll demanded, suddenly guarded.

“You told me. Gave me the address, said you had the Priestly Brothers doing the remodeling and…” Sheila defended.

“Huh? Oh, oh yeah,” Doll agreed. “Hi! Come, come on in.”

The front room was furnished quite elegantly. The muted colors of furniture and walls went very well with the loud, almost garish Oriental rug. As they sat down, Sheila thrust the gift wrapped box at Doll.

“I oh! Oh you didn’t have… Wait. Wait; is this one of them glitter bombs?” Doll happily asked then regarded the box with suspicion.

“Huh? Oh! Oh because it’s April fool’s day,” Sheila guessed. “No, no, it, it’s just something cute for you to wear around the house.”

Doll carefully sliced the tape with a thumbnail. Sheila smiled; as a child she’d always been so impatient, shredding though wrapping paper and ribbons with abandon. But in her teens, she’d learned to appreciate the artistry of gift wrapping. Miss Carol had been thrilled to observe Sheila’s skills in wrapping their boxes and often had Sheila working the gift wrap station during Holiday sales.

“Oh! Oh! It, oh Sheila! I, thank, thank you so much!” Doll gasped, delighted with the gift.

Sheila was startled when Doll kissed her. She sat, lips tingling as Doll scampered away, box in hand.

“Oh! Oh it is so pretty!” Sheila heard a few moments later from somewhere in the house. “I, I just love it!”

A moment later, Doll scurried back into the room, the soft material fluttering as she hurried. Sheila admired Doll’s pale smooth flesh, slim belly, sleek hips and thin thighs. Moving her long red hair aside, Doll twirled, modeling the baby doll nightie from front and back.

“I hate you,” Sheila declared, admiring Doll’s compact buttocks in the lacy thong panties.

“What?” Doll squealed.

“You’re too cute,” Sheila declared.

“Oh hush!” Doll said, blushing under the praise.

“So I, uh, what, what ever happened to Heidi?” Sheila asked.

“Oh! Oh my God, I, I have got to tell you this,” Doll squealed, scrambling onto the couch to sit next to Sheila.

Somehow, they wound up holding hands and Doll curled her feet underneath her pale buttocks so she could face Sheila. Leaning close, Doll urgently whispered the sordid tale as best as she knew it to be.

Heidi Balstrom was a voluptuous red head, not a blonde as she claimed to be in her Cougar Caller profile. She’d dyed her red hair and sported a brassy blonde hairstyle. Nor was she a lesbian; she was living with her boyfriend. Both addicted to meth, they’d concocted the plan to troll on-line for bi-curious or lesbian women that they would meet and lure to a secluded spot where they would rob their victims.

They’d binged horribly the night before and had overslept. Then, smoking some meth, Johnny had become aroused and demanded sex from his girlfriend. She knew better than to refuse him when he was hopped up on meth so it had been after eight thirty before they even dressed to for their meeting with their intended victim.

“So anyway, this Heidi, she’s all like ‘oh I’m so sorry; I overslept, too much partying the night before’ and we agree to meet up at Oxbow Lake,” Doll continued with her tale, now softly running a hand along Sheila’s arm.

“Oh, okay,” Sheila said, peering into Doll’s warm brown eyes.

“You’ve got such beautiful eyes,” Doll whispered.

“I, uh, I, I was fixing say the same thing,” Sheila stammered, wanting to tear her eyes from Doll’s warm gaze.

“But something, something just didn’t seem right; I mean, not only was she super late, but her words weren’t making a whole lot of sense,” Doll said, face coming closer to Sheila’s face.

“Like, like what?” Sheila asked, wanting to tear her eyes from Doll’s warm gaze but unable to look away.

“Twice, twice she said ‘we’ instead of ‘I’ and I’m like ‘who is we?'” Doll whispered, her warm breath softly caressing Sheila’s face.

“Uh huh,” Sheila whispered, her stomach in knots, her thoughts racing.

This wasn’t right. There, there was just something wrong, something wrong about enjoying another woman’s soft touch, her beautiful eyes mesmerizing her. There was something not quite right about wanting to feel those soft lips again.

“But I get to Oxbow Lake and she’s like let’s meet over here, then let’s meet over there and she was getting me further and further away from everyone and I finally said no,” Doll said.

Their lips touched. Sheila pressed her lips against Doll’s soft, moist lips. She placed her hand at the back of Doll’s head, marveling at how soft, how silky Doll’s long carrot orange hair felt underneath her fingertips.

“Mm,” Doll moaned into their soft kiss.

“This is wrong, this is just so…” Sheila argued as she opened her mouth for Doll’s soft tongue.