Monthly Maintenance: Selected Stories from Blushing Books Authors

by Blushing Books

  He hit the siren for one brief blast as he pulled up to the house. From a tangle of coneflowers, a short figure popped up wearing a tank top and overalls with a piece sign on the front pocket, braids hanging long from under her wide-brimmed straw hat. Tossing the handful of weeds aside, Chloe Klein began removing her gardening gloves as she walked over to the car.

  “Sheriff Wheeler,” she said with a nod. “What brings you here?” She smiled as she spoke, her teeth white in her tan, dimpled face. Roark couldn’t help but note how attractive she was, and how the sheen of sweat beaded on her ample chest. He looked away for a moment. Damn. Why did the flakiest women have to be the most attractive?

  “Good day, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll make this short and sweet. You need to crack down on your boys. I found these three in the alley behind Mercer’s, trying to set off some illegal firecrackers.”

  Chloe leaned down and looked through Roark’s window to the boys sitting in the back. “Is that true, guys?”

  “I just said it was,” Roark growled.

  Chloe shot the sheriff an irritated look. “Yes, but I want to hear it from them.”

  The boys mumbled a yes.

  “Alright,” she said. “Out then, unless Sheriff Wheeler is planning to take you downtown and throw the book at you.”

  Roark got out and walked around to open the back door. “I should. These boys need some consequences for their action. Some punishment.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff. You made yourself quite clear.” Chloe turned to the boys. “I think you both know what this means. You lose all your points.”

  The boys grumbled in disappointment and walked towards the house. Roark watched them go and then turned in disbelief to Chloe.

  “That’s it? They lose some points?”

  Chloe crossed her arms and frowned. “Would it have made you feel better if I’d just picked up a stick and started hitting them? I’m quite sure you and half this conservative town would approve of such a base approach, even if it is less effective.”

  “Well, I can tell you this young lady,” Roark shot back. “If those were my boys a good switching is exactly what they’d get. And the fear of the consequences would have kept them out of that alley in the first place.”

  “Is that so?” Chloe smirked. “Well, if that’s how you think, allow me to clear a few things up. First of all, even if I did believe in all that ‘sparing the rod’ crap, I couldn’t exercise it since it’s illegal to physically punish kids in a group home. Second, while you may have been beaten as a child --”

  “I wasn’t beaten,” Roark interjected. “I was spanked. There’s a difference.”

  “Not to me,” retorted Chloe. “As I was saying, while you may have been beaten I’m pretty sure you still disobeyed, so don’t act like corporal punishment is some sort of panacea. And third, drop the ‘young lady’ from your vocabulary when referring to me. I’m 35.”

  Roark couldn’t help but be shocked at the admission. He didn’t put her a day over 27. He started to tell her, but decided against it. Even if she was just five years his junior, as far as he was concerned she still warranted the title, especially in light of her casual and disrespectful tone. He was, after all, the sheriff.

  “Don’t you even want to know where they got the firecrackers?” he asked.

  “They’ll tell me,” she said, "unless you’d rather take them downtown and water board them. You obviously don’t have much better else to do but tell people what to do.”

  Roark felt his face grow warm. The boys in that house weren’t the only ones who could use a good spanking. It was something else he would have liked to have told Chloe Klein.

  “Now if there’s nothing else…” she began.

  “Well, actually there is,” said Roark. “The Fourth of July festival is in two days. I know your boys are planning to attend, and if any of them get out of line I’m going to hold you personally responsible.”

  Chloe felt her face grow hot with anger. “Are you planning to have this same conversation with other parents in this town?”

  “Only the ones whose kids are picked up for delinquency.” He smiled, satisfied with her indignant expression, and tipped his hat. “Now you have a good day.”

  Chloe watched him go, her irritation still peaking as she walked inside. Damn cop. Typical authority figure with typical linear thinking. Chloe scoffed as she walked towards the house. The only reason the guy probably got elected in the first place was for his looks. Every single woman in town thought he was hot, and even Chloe had to begrudgingly admit that the 6’2”, well-built lawman with jet black hair was easy on the eyes. Too bad he was such an insufferable jerk.

  Inside, the three offenders were sitting on the couch, looking glum. Chloe removed her hat and put it on the table before sitting down across from them.

  “You guys know everyone thinks we’re all misfits, don’t you? Not just you, but me, too. You guys do know, don’t you, that everyone expects me to fail with you and for you to fail the rest of your lives, right? Haven’t we talked about this before, about how proving them wrong is the best thing we all can do?”

  “We’re sorry, Miss Chloe.” The tallest boy, Roger spoke up now. Beside him Charlie and Antwon nodded in agreement. “We were just having a little fun.”

  “Well, you’re little fun has cost us all. The cop that brought back is making it his personal mission to keep tabs on every kid in this house. Thanks to you three, each and every one of you is going to be treated like suspects.”

  “Nice work, buttheads.” A lanky handsome youth with shoulder length curls walked through the room.

  “Sebastian.” Chloe looked over at her fifteen year-old son and sighed. While she appreciated his patience in dealing with the endless parade of foster brothers that trooped through their home on a rotating basis, his tendency to interject himself in her lectures didn’t help.

  From the doorway, her son smiled and winked, painfully awakening memories of the father who never stuck around to see him born. Chloe sometimes wondered how their life would have been if he had. It had been a hard lesson - learning that you couldn’t count on a man. She hoped her son - and the boys she fostered - would grow up to be better than that.

  “Does this mean we can’t go to the festival?” Charlie was looking at her now, disappointment creeping into his eyes.

  “You lost all your points. What do you think it means?” Chloe rose from the couch and turned away so the boys wouldn’t see she was as disappointed as she was. “Outings are a privilege, not a right, and privileges are earned with points. You figure it out.”

  “But that’s not fair!” Charlie was on his feet now. “We’ve been looking forward to the festival all summer. The other boys get to go!”

  “The other boys didn’t lose their points,” said Chloe firmly. She turned to face them, forcing herself to maintain a poker face. “Now enough; you know the rules. There’s no more discussion. You have chores to do. Get to them.”

  The boys rose and stalked out, quietly protesting. Chloe wondered if she shouldn’t separate them. Angry boys fed off of each other’s defiance. She knew that. But the more optimistic part of them hope they’d talk through their resentment - as she always encouraged them to do - and agree that they had no one to blame but themselves.

  It was a strategy that had worked before for kids who had been through the Sunshine House Developing Conscience Program. The philosophy had been an outgrowth of Chloe’s doctoral thesis on developing natural morality in children, and her techniques had been embraced by her peers in California. It was a harder sell in Hillhaven, the New England town she called home. Rather than be seen as a breath of fresh air, her progressive approach to dealing with troubled youth had been viewed with suspicion by the conservative agrarian community. Court referrals were even slow at first, but as her success grew so did the numbers of kids she and Sebastian hosted in the home she opened to wayward teens.

  It brought Chloe a measure of satisfaction to succeed without a
n authoritarian approach, for nothing pleased her more than proving people like Sheriff Roark Wheeler wrong. She knew by the way he looked at her that he thought the same thing about her as everyone else did - that she was some sort of New Age rebel living the life of a single mother. But who was he to criticize. He was older than she was and - as far as she knew - unmarried as well. Of course, it seemed acceptable for men to be on their on in Hillhaven, but not so for women. They were expected to be paired up and docile. Well let them, Chloe told herself. She’d didn’t need a man. She’d take her independence over patriarchal protection any day of the week. Having been down that road, she knew it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be anyway.

  Chloe spent the rest of the day working with the boys to put up Fourth of July decorations. She secretly hoped the cookout she’d planned for the Fourth would lift the spirits of the three boys who’d miss out on the festival, but she doubted it. The three sulked through the preparations and responded to her directions or questions with short responses or shrugs.

  She was glad to see her bed that night, believing that the sunrise almost always brought better things. So when she awoke to a knock at the door and opened it to find Sheriff Roark Wheeler standing on her porch, Chloe didn’t consider it a good start.

  “Is something wrong, Sheriff?” she asked, smoothing her long auburn hair over one shoulder.

  “As a matter of fact there is,” he said. “May I come in?”

  Chloe sighed. She felt a bit self-conscious, standing there in her nightgown, even though it was modest. “Let me change first,” she said and then, when she returned, opened the door. “Let’s talk quietly,” she said as he came in. “The boys are still asleep and these early hours are the only ones I get to myself. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Certainly.” Roark followed her into the kitchen, admiring her long tangle of auburn hair and shapely figure through the knee length summer dress she wore.

  “Sit down,” she said, and turned to make coffee. “Now, what brings you here?”

  “There was a break-in last night at Mercers,” Roark said. Chloe stopped ladling ground coffee into the basket of the coffee maker.

  “And what does that have to do with me?” she asked.

  “Three description matching the three boys I returned yesterday were given to me,” he said.

  “By whom?” she asked.

  “By the innkeeper across the street.”

  “Mrs. Futch?” Chloe snorted. “She’s a busybody who opposed the Sunshine House from the beginning.”

  “Well still,” the sheriff said and stood. “Mrs. Futch said she saw boys matching that description running from the store at around 10 p.m….”

  “At 10 p.m. those boys were here with me,” said Chloe hotly. “They have an alibi.”

  “Alibi or not, I need to question them.”

  “Bullshit,” said Chloe, raising her voice now.

  “What’s up, Mom?” Sebastian had appeared in the kitchen door, trailed by two other boys.

  “Nothing,” said Chloe. “Sheriff Wheeler was just leaving.”

  “No, I wasn’t.” Roark stood and walked over, towering over Chloe. “I need to speak to those boys.”

  “Fine,” Chloe said and walked to the bottom of the stairs. “Charlie! Antwon! Roger! Come down here. Now!”

  Overhead a thumping could be heard and then footsteps as the boys plodded downstairs. Stepping back, she allowed the boys to be questioned and then listened as their peers jumped in to confirm their alibis. All the while, Roark jotted down notes in his book.

  Finally, Chloe stepped forward. “Got what you need?” she asked.

  Roark looked down at his notes. “They have a solid alibi, that is, if no one is covering for them,” he said.

  “I can assure you that no one is, but since you seem so intent on thinking the worse, I hope you’ll understand when I tell you to get the fuck out of my house.”

  “Excuse me?” Roark wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “Did you just curse me, young lady?”

  “I certainly did, and I’m about to do it again if you don’t leave.” Stepping up to him, she jabbed a finger into his chest. “I’m sick and tired of people like you thinking the worst about these boys. It’s bad enough to have the unfortunate breaks these kids have had without it being assumed that they’re always the ones to blame when something goes wrong.”

  Roark looked down at her, his eyes filled with warning. “I have a job to do, Miss Klein,” he said sternly. “If someone - even the town gossip - advised they saw these kids leaving Mercer’s I have an obligation to come over here and check it out. And speaking of being advised, I’d suggest you stop poking me in the chest.”

  “Or what?” asked Chloe, laughing. “Are you going to arrest me for telling you what an ass you’re being?”

  Suddenly, Chloe found herself being pushed down and over the table, her hands being taken behind her and snapped into cuffs. “No,” he said. “For assault. Miss Klein, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can be used against you in a court of law?”

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Sebastian stepped forward, but stopped when Roark held out his hand. “Short answer, I’m arresting your Mom, son. She can say whatever she wants, but she can’t lay her hand on an officer of the law.”

  Sebastian stepped forward again as Roark pulled his mother up and pushed her to the door, but she stopped him. “No, Sebastian,” she said, her eyes pleading. “You let me handle this.” Then, to the boys. “I’ll be back soon. Until then, Sebastian is in charge.”

  Sebastian, looking concerned, could only nod as his mother was led out and down the steps to the cruiser. Chloe couldn’t believe what was happening as she was pushed into the back and sat there, stunned and angry as the sheriff climbed in the front and drove out onto the road. After a moment, she spoke up. “This isn’t the way to town,” she said.

  “No, it’s not,” he said. “And you’re not really under arrest. I just wanted to show those boys back there that you couldn’t lay your hands on me like that.” He glanced over the seat at her. “We need to have a talk.

  He pulled onto a dirt road and then back into an apple orchard. The dew was still on the ground as he helped Chloe out of the car. Unlocking her cuffs, he removed them and took them off. “Let’s take a walk,” he said.

  Chloe looked up at him nervously. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to come to a meeting of the minds about our disagreement. What you did back there was really stupid, Miss Klein. Those boys have had a rough time, I agree, but it won’t help them to mock authority right in front of them.”

  Chloe glared at him. “I wasn’t mocking authority,” she said. “I was mocking you.”

  Roark turned to her. “Is that what you were taught where you come from? That authority is only authority if it meets your expectations?”

  “Something like that,” said Chloe.

  “That won’t fly out here,” said Roark, feeling exasperated. “You keep this up and you’re going to end up with those boys getting in worse trouble, and you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

  “I don’t have to listen to this bullshit,” said Chloe. “Especially coming from the keystone cop of some one-horse town. I’m going back. And no, I don’t need a ride. The walk will do me good.”

  “Oh no you don’t. I’m not finished talking to you.” But when Roark reached out to grab Chloe’s shoulder, she turned and slapped him - hard. The motion surprised them both, and he could see in her eyes that she realized - finally - that she’d crossed a line.

  This time when he grabbed her, she did not resist as he pulled her back to the car. “Great, she thought. I’ve done it now. I really have assaulted him. Silently, she cursed her temper and what she knew was an innate disrespect of men and authority. Chloe wondered what would happen to the boys - including her son - once she was convicted. But when they got to the cruiser, rather than putting her inside, Roark lifted her and slammed her
down on the hood to face him.

  “You got anything you want to say?” he asked.

  “Before you really arrest me?” she asked, and tears of anger - at him and at herself - sprung to her eyes.

  “No, before I offer you a deal.”

  “Chloe blinked back the tears and looked at him suspiciously. “What kind of deal? Because I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, giving her a little shake. “It’s not what I have in mind. Something quite different, in fact. You can either go downtown and get booked or you can consent to me giving you what you really deserve - a spanking.”

  “What?” Chloe was indignant. “You’re giving me a choice between hitting me and arresting me? And that’s supposed to be a fair choice? Fuck you!”

  “Fine.” Roark pulled the cuffs out, but as he did, again Chloe was faced with all that she would lose.

  “No. Wait!” He stopped and looked at her and she looked up at him. “Why? Why do you even want to do that?”

  “To show you that sometimes it’s just the medicine defiant children - and adults - need. That limits and punishment aren’t the worst things in the world. Don’t tell me you don’t think you deserve something for the way you’ve handled this whole situation. We both know I was just doing my job.”

  Chloe felt trapped. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I don’t want to go to jail.”

  “Alright then,” Roark said and - placing a foot on the bumper of his car - lifted Chloe up and over his knee.

  For a grown woman who hadn’t been spanked since childhood, the situation was surreal, and then all too real as his hand began to spank her through her thin dress. Chloe kicked and cursed through the first five smacks, and then found herself whimpering and crying out. Roark, whose face still felt the sting from her slap, didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy as he worked to make sure her cheeks ended up sorer than his face did. Hiking his knee higher, he tipped her over a bit and began to slap her buttocks - hard - in an alternating fashion, ignoring the whimpers that dissolved into cries.

  Chloe felt as if her bottom were on fire, and the added humiliation of knowing her kicking legs had hiked her short dress up didn’t help. The sheriff’s hand was spanking her panties now, laying painful slap over painful slap on a bottom protected only by thin fabric.