Monthly Maintenance: Selected Stories from Blushing Books Authors

by Blushing Books

  Finally, when her cries had dissolved into sobs and her bottom felt as if it were about to burst from pain, the sheriff stopped and lifted her to standing.

  Chloe was a sobbing mess as she pushed the wet curtain of hair away from her face and rubbed her sore bottom through her dress.

  “Now. When we go back are you going to have a talk with those boys about your behavior?” he asked. “Because the law is the law, young lady, even if you don’t agree with who it is or how it works.”

  Chloe nodded as she worked to compose herself, accepting the handkerchief Roark handed to her. She looked so vulnerable and broken, with tears streaking down her pretty face that Roark couldn’t help but soften a bit at the sight.

  “Look,” he said gently. “I know you think I’m a monster, but I’m not. You just need to understand that this isn’t California. The kind of attitude you’re used to exhibiting there can end up getting you and those kids in big trouble.”

  “But I was right,” sobbed Chloe.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said gently. “It’s not always about being right. You can protest and riot on the left coast and get a slap on the wrist. Here things are different. This is a simple community with simple people. You can’t go smarting off at authority figures. And you sure shouldn’t be teaching your kids that, not if you want them to succeed.”

  “The kids who’ve come through my program have succeeded,” Chloe argued.

  “Yeah, well maybe they have,” he said. “But I bet the ones who have never saw anything like this, did they?”

  Chloe looked away, her face red with shame. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. And even worse, while she wanted to hate him for spanking her, he was right about something else. The jarring experience of what he put her through had made her stop and think.

  “Look,” he said. “As far as I’m concerned this whole thing is water under the bridge.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to look for the boys who broke into Mercer’s?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “And what’s more I’d like it if you and your boys would be my special guests tomorrow in the VIP section of the Fourth of July festival.”

  Chloe sighed and looked away. “Well, I would, but I’m not sure how I’d feel about doing that. The three you brought back yesterday are already pretty bummed out over missing the festivities.”

  “Ah, they lost their points. I forgot.”

  Chloe looked at him, irritated. “Are you making fun of me again?” “No,” he said. “I was actually going to ask you if you ever awarded points to the boys, you know, for unusual circumstances.”

  “Like what?” Chloe sniffed.

  “Like to make up for being wrongly accused. I’m thinking it’s only fair they get to go, so long as you’re sure they won’t steal any more fireworks in the future.”

  Chloe managed a smile. “I think that can be arranged.”

  Thirty minutes later, she was back home. Roark spared her having to answer questions by calling all the boys together to say he’d had a long talk with Miss Klein and felt the need to explain why he’d suspected the trio he’d brought home the day before of breaking into Mercer’s. Chloe took advantage of his having their attention to go upstairs and wash her face. She tried to put the spanking out of her mind, but the memory of it made her blush for some reason, for rather than feel affronted by the recollection she felt strangely reassured.

  When she came downstairs, the boys were gathered around Roark, asking him questions about being a cop. Chloe was surprised to see Charlie showing the most interest, and even asking Roark if he could go on a ride-along.

  “Mom!” Sebastian walked over. “The sheriff said we’re going to have front row seats for the fireworks tomorrow night. Is that true?”

  “Yes,” she said, putting on a smile.

  “Wow,” he said. “You must have made him feel really bad.”

  Roark suppressed a smile at the comment and Chloe shot him a look. “No one made anyone feel bad,” he said. “We just came to a mutual understanding.”

  The weather for the Fourth of July turned out to be perfect and the festival was the perfect outing for the boys. After a day of eating funnel cakes and soaking up sun as they listened to bands, Chloe, Sebastian and the other boys were joined on the grandstand by Roark, who’d changed into his civilian clothes.

  “Casual wear for the holiday?” Chloe asked as he settled in beside her. She detected a hint of cologne as his arm brushed her. She blushed and then looked away.

  “No,” he said. “I’m off the rest of the evening and it’s not often I get to entertain a beautiful woman, especially not one with so many children.”

  Chloe laughed. “They’re not all mine,” she said. “Only Sebastian.”

  “How long were you with his father?” Roark asked.

  “Wow, you don’t waste time with the personal questions, do you?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Since you decided to work on restraint I’ve decided to meet you halfway and work on being impetuous,” he said.

  Chloe laughed. “That’s fair,” she said, although you might not like the answer. We were together about two months. I was young, in college and drunk. He was a nice guy, a friend with benefits, my best friend really. Until I got pregnant. Then he claimed I was trying to trap him and bailed.

  “You didn’t try to track him down for support?”

  Chloe shook her head. “No,” she said. “He didn’t want a baby and I had the option of ending the pregnancy. Everyone was doing it and I didn’t think it was fair to foist a child on him when I had a choice. It didn’t seem fair. Ultimately it was my choice, although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel sad that he never looked us up to find out what a great kid Sebastian turned out to be.”

  “Yeah, he seems pretty awesome,” said Roark.

  Chloe smiled. “What about you? Why aren’t you married like everyone else in town. Are you gay?”

  “No. I’m straight as an arrow. I just never seemed to be attracted to the kind of women who were as dull as I am. I think I’m looking for someone who can keep me on my toes.” He glanced at her. “Someone who will be a bit of a challenge.”

  The first fireworks went off, lighting up the sky. Chloe glanced over at Roark to see he was smiling at her. She smiled back.

  “Hmm. That’s interesting,” she said. “I think I never married for the same reason. The kind of free spirited guys I thought I wanted turned out to be the kind that were good for making babies, not raising them.”

  Another rocket whizzed into the air with a whistle and exploded in red-white-and blue starbursts.. Roark reached out and allowed his fingers to brush against Chloe’s. When she didn’t pull away he slipped her hands into his.

  “Do you think of ever trying again?” he asked her. “Maybe with someone who’s a little more traditional?”

  Chloe looked down and bit her lip. “Sometimes,” she said, moving closer so he could hear her above the cheering crowd. “Yeah, I do. Sometimes I think maybe someone I could lean on would be nice, especially if it was someone who still appreciated me for who I was.”

  “Sometimes it takes someone a little different to ignite the spark that leads to something else,” he said, and they kissed as the sky exploded above them, raining down a shower of stars.

  Beside them, the boys nudged one another and smiled.

  Old Fashioned Day at the

  State Fair

  By Amity Maree

  Old Fashioned Day at the State Fair

  by Amity Maree

  “You will do as I say, young lady, and you will do so with a smile on your face, or I will cut off your allowance, take back your car and your apartment. You will have to live on your means, not what I provide for you out of the goodness of my heart. As Governor of this state, I am trying hard to encourage people to attend our State Fair, and since it was my own personal suggestion to have Old-Fashioned Day, I expect my own family to participate in the contests and to have a go
od time! You will bake a damned pie and enter it in the pie auction, and you will sit and eat that pie with the young man who bids on it. Is THAT understood?” John Martin raised his voice to his daughter, something he rarely did.

  “I don’t know how to bake a pie, Dad!” Liz looked her father in the eye.

  “Then get your butt in the kitchen and learn. You are doing this, Elizabeth Lynn, and what’s more, you are going to spend the day at the fair having a great time.”

  “And I suppose you are insisting that Eric bid on a pie?” she demanded.

  “Of course I am. He said he would be happy to do so. He seems to have some respect for me and for the position I hold in this state.” When she rolled her eyes, he added what he considered his coup de grace, “Miller will be bidding, too.”

  “Well, he’d better not buy my pie, Dad, that’s all I have to say. If you want me to go and act like Miss Suzy Sunshine for the day in my yellow gingham dress and straw hat, you’d best keep that bastard as far away from me as possible because I won’t be responsible for my actions if he is stupid enough to get within five hundred feet of me! Is THAT understood?” she demanded, getting to her feet and stomping from her Father’s office.

  Elizabeth left the Governor’s mansion and ran to her car, easily outrunning the reporters who dogged her. She never spoke to them and she couldn’t understand why they persisted in following her. Theirs was a boring existence. Once at her apartment, she pulled through the gate and drove to her building and parked in her space. She was under a running shower in the next couple of minutes, trying to calm her famous temper. Why did she let her father guilt her into doing what he wanted? Yes, she loved her father, but how much did she owe him? All her life she’d been a little pawn in his political career, all the way back when he was elected Prosecuting Attorney in their county, to Representative, to Congressman, and now to his position as Governor of their state.

  How could he ask her to do something she was so opposed to? Baking a pie, auctioning it and herself off to the highest bidder…!!! And even if that money was to go for a good cause, it was still flesh peddling, and she didn’t want to do it, even in a spirit of ‘old-fashioned fun’. It was degrading to women. Not all the men who would be bidding would be ‘safe’ and she could just picture one of them slipping a roofie in some poor woman’s drink and then raping her! Her father didn’t see it that way, of course, and thought she was being foolish. It didn’t surprise her that her younger brother was going along with it, either. Their Dad would be financing his participation and Eric was dependant on their father for his support, but she certainly wasn’t. It was HIS idea that she live in this particular apartment complex, and that she drive a fancy car. It all had to do with his image, not with her wants or needs. She should have told him ‘no’ and called his bluff. She should have, but she loved him, and she didn’t!

  And, worst of all, she simply couldn’t believe that Miller Coddington would go along with her father and participate in a contest that was too sexist for words! He’d just better not bid on her pie or he would be sorry! she vowed. In fact, it would serve her parent right if she had a royal fit at the fair and it was splattered all over the newspapers. Maybe then he would stop involving her in things she wanted no part of! She fantasized about that and it brought a smile to her face when she thought of baking a pie that was truly awful and watching some unsuspecting reporter or lobbyist trying to eat it while sitting across from her. She would at least have a bit of her own back, she decided with a grin.

  When Liz left her apartment a few minutes later, she didn’t look like the same woman. There wasn’t a trace of make-up on her pretty face, her hair was neatly pinned up on top of her head, and she was wearing scrubs. She drove a compact car, and left by the service entrance. She arrived at the hospital in plenty of time for her shift, and very few people there associated Elizabeth Martin, R.N., with Lizzy Martin, the Governor’s spoiled and pampered daughter. She didn’t take pains to hide the fact of her father’s identity, but the people she worked with knew her as a hardworking, competent nurse, and treated her with respect. She never brought politics to work, and when someone’s life was on the line, they didn’t want a nurse whose mind wasn’t on the job. Elizabeth loved her work, and she was good at it. He coworkers knew they could count on her, and she found that satisfying.

  ********************

  “Coddington here,” Miller answered his cell without bothering to check the Caller ID. The odds were good that it was the Governor calling since very few people had this number.

  “Lizzy agreed to participate in the pie auction,” John Martin stated without preamble. “That means you will, too.”

  “How in hell did you talk her into it, Governor?” Miller demanded with a frown.

  “It doesn’t matter. She agreed to bake a pie and put on an old-fashioned dress and come to the State Fair and join in the fun. Eric will be there, and as my Assistant, I expect you to come and bid on Lizzy’s pie. I don’t want her to have to spend time with some deranged idiot who wants to use her ear to get to me. You agreed, Miller.”

  “That was when I thought Elizabeth still had a mind,” he muttered darkly. He snapped the telephone shut and powered off, not about to talk to anyone else right now. Why in hell did Elizabeth agree to do this? And he couldn’t believe the Governor had talked her into permitting him to buy her pie at the auction! The little brat didn’t even know how to bake a pie, and he wasn’t going to eat it, no matter who baked it. He would escort her out of the public eye, and once that was over, he was getting the hell out of there. The next time the Governor made a decision to promote an ‘old-fashioned’ anything, he was quitting his job. There was only one thing ‘old-fashioned’ that he would like to do at that fair, and that was take Miss Snotty Brat Martin over his knee and spank her soundly. If she gave him just one more good reason to do that, he would… And to hell with his job.

  ********************

  “Come on down here and let me see how that dress looks on you,” John Martin growled. “Why do you have to be so cursed stubborn, Lizzy?”

  “Maybe because you are forever asking me to do things I don’t want to do, Dad!” Elizabeth answered, opening the door of her old bedroom to yell at him. She came downstairs and shook her head when she saw how he was dressed. It was laughable. He had his hair parted in the middle and plastered down on both sides of his head. He was wearing old fashioned trousers with a white shirt and a brocaded vest, and he had arm bands on his shirt, and an old bow tie. “You look as ridiculous as I feel, Dad.”

  “Thank you for the compliment. Now get your pie and let’s get to the fairgrounds. We need to go and have a good time so folks see it on the noon news and decide to come on out and have fun.”

  “Where is Eric?” she asked suspiciously, not about to budge unless he was coming, too.

  “He is in the limo waiting for us,” John felt like giving his daughter a smack on the fanny, but he wasn’t stupid enough to try it. She’d run right back upstairs and so much for the happy family at the Fair. If his well-thought plan worked today, he wouldn’t have to worry about Lizzy much longer. She and Miller would settle their differences and Miller could contend with her stubbornness. Whatever happened to set them apart could be fixed and they would get married. It would be good for his campaign when he ran for the Senate in a couple more years after his term as Governor was over. And who didn’t love to see a Grandpa holding a precious grandchild!

  ********************

  It was difficult to smile and pretend she was having a great time when she wasn’t. Her Dad walked her around the grounds for hours to look at all the animals, and to visit with the concession stand owners. She congratulated winners and sympathized with others who didn’t win a prize. She rode a couple of rides and threatened to throw up if her Dad took her on another! He insisted she and Eric eat and eat, and he tried something at almost every food booth they stopped at. It was insane what the man was willing to do to promote the State Fair…
and himself!!!

  Liz couldn’t believe that so many women were taking part in the Pie Auction! The tent was packed to overflowing. Celebrities from all over the State, political figures, or members of their family, and some women who thought it would be a great time to be part of something like this and help raise money for Homeless Shelters had baked pies and entered them into the Auction. And, as predicted, single men were lined up to bid for those pies, some with their own money, and some with money provided by special interests groups or businesses who wanted to support the cause.

  Liz had to admit she was pretty uneasy about this Auction, and having to spend time with whoever bid the most money for her. She knew her father wouldn’t be pleased if one of his political enemies bid just to get her alone and try and pump her for information, and then, there was the possibility that a reporter would bid for her pie just to write a piece on her. It would serve her Dad right if that happened, she decided with a wicked grin. The pie was purely inedible, and she’d made damn sure of it since she baked it herself. It wouldn’t make anyone ill, but she guaranteed they wouldn’t want another piece of apple pie again anytime soon. The only good part of the day so far was the fact that Miller Coddington was nowhere to be seen. The man was just as impossible as her father, but in his own unique way.

  While the auctioneer’s voice droned on and on, Liz couldn’t help recalling her last night as Miller’s girlfriend. He’d wined and dined her, and they’d gone back to his apartment. Her father called with a serious problem that needed immediate attention, and Miller went upstairs to his office to take the call, leaving her downstairs She was convinced Miller was planning to propose to her that night, and she’d decided to say ‘yes’. She was in love with the handsome, well-educated man, and she’d also decided to say ‘yes’ to making love with him once he proposed. She was happy, and then her cell phone rang. There was an emergency at work, and they begged her to come in. Liz knew from experience that Miller could be tied up with her father for the rest of the evening, and she knew he would understand that she needed to go to the hospital to help out. She agreed she would be there ASAP, and then looked for a scrap of paper she could use to leave Miller a note. To her surprise, she found a note from her Father stuffed in the kitchen drawer where Miller kept notepads and ink pens. After reading it, she was furious. How dare her Father handpick a man for her? She wrote two crude and succinct words across the note and put it where Miller would find it. She refused his calls, and refused to discuss the situation with him. As far as she was concerned, they were through.