My Way Series: Books 1-3
Page 2
I leaned over and whispered in her ear ever so quietly, “I love you, Frances May Crazy Pants! You light up my soul and fill my heart to the brim. Love you now and forever.” Then I kissed her forehead for the last time. To my surprise, she gently tugged on my hand and said, “Sweet Dreams, Cinda-rell-y.” It took everything in me to make my body climb from her bed. Just like that, I lost the love of my life, standing four feet away from her while her son held her precious, fragile body. I watched my hero draw in her final breath.
Chapter 4
Sweet, Sweet Justice
Attorney Hugo Smith called me yesterday telling me that he had something of high importance to tell me regarding a matter that pertains to the Montgomery family. I’m not sure what it could be because I already filed for divorce from the Bastard. With him owning the biggest law firm in Sacramento, I knew I stood no chance of coming away with anything from my piece of shit marriage.
In all honesty, I just wanted my cotton candy-colored bling bracelet and that was it. I didn’t even care if I had to walk to the nearest Wal-Mart naked to buy an outfit. I would leave naked if that meant parting ways from the heartless, cheating bastard. I knew he would sign the papers when I asked for absolutely nothing in the divorce. He would then have the freedom to bang as many random women as he wanted without having to be sneaky, because face it—I guarantee there were way more than just the three I knew of. Within 24 hours of filing, I was officially divorced from the Bastard.
I guess he had connections and was more than willing to lose his extra baggage. He also made sure I left with nothing, and I mean nothing…dignity included! I had $167.89 tucked away in a coat pocket from my shopping spree with Frances. No car, no clothes and no hope. However, I felt lighter than I had in years. There was a small, nagging victory dance working its way up from my toes because I was free of the Bastard forever! I may have to sell my body to make money, but at least I was free!
So here I sit across from the squatty, older Hugo Smith, wearing my new zebra-striped flip-flops, denim capris and my new lace hot pink ruffled tank top from the local dollar store. Without saying a word, Hugo slid an envelope to me. When seeing the wonder on my face, he gently said, “It’s a letter from Frances. Please read it and then we’ll discuss the content of the letter.”
I didn’t want to read this letter in front of him. I wanted to take it and cherish it in a dark corner somewhere. I can’t do this! Finally, I mustered up all the courage I had, slid the letter from the envelope, and I immediately recognized Frances’ beautiful cursive sprawled across the page in purple ink…
To My Sweet Cinda-rell-y,
This letter is my way of apologizing to you. I was so very selfish in our relationship. I knew how my son treated you and the many affairs he participated in. I saw the hurt and devastation in your eyes, and I only recognized it because I too knew the feeling. Aaron’s father had several affairs while we were married. I had high hopes that my son would one day treat and respect his wife better than his father did. When his father died, Aaron was only 14. I did everything I could to instill the importance of commitment in my son.
I know how it is to live with a bastard who constantly degrades you and makes you feel inferior. I lived it and then stood by and watched you live it. Please, my dear, forgive me for my selfishness. I should've let you go, but the truth was I needed you! You were the light in my life.
I’m sure you’re planning on leaving Aaron, and I give you my full support. I want you to be happy and live your life to the fullest. Knowing the shark my son can be, I’m leaving everything I own to you, my dear. The house, money, and cars are all yours. I want you to do whatever you want with them. Hell, move in next door and flaunt all your boyfriends in front of my son—I don’t care! I really hope you hit up the hot UPS man first. Exercise without a bra on, wear your pj pants while grocery shopping, or eat fast food for every meal—it doesn't matter to me! I just want you to be happy! You, my dear, at this exact moment, you are worth 5.6 million dollars. Enjoy it!
Yours Truly,
Frances May Crazy Pants
PS—Okay, you know, of course, I do have to put my two cents in on how you spend the money, right? I want you to just GO. Just GO wherever your little heart fancies and live your life! Whenever doubt creeps into that pretty brain of yours, remember the word, “Go!” I do ask that you continue on the hunt of a truly orgasmic potato salad. That is the one thing that Aaron’s father ridiculed me for, because I couldn't even make a decent potato salad. I want you to create one of those bucket list thingies, too. If you find that you can’t complete something on your bucket list, don’t get down on yourself! I suggest you say, “Fuck It” and move on! I love you, my dear Cindarelly!
I immediately drop the letter, my entire body shaking and tingling. Holy shit! Hugo rambles on for what seems like an eternity. I don’t understand a word he says. Holy shit! He’s now pushing papers my way with a huge grin on his face. Holy Shit! I know that I’m supposed to be doing something and reacting a certain way, but holy shit!
I finally snap out of it, since Hugo is practically dry humping the table to get my attention. He informed me that I needed to sign the papers to make everything legal. With the happiest and shakiest fingers, I signed my name. He then passed over a debit card and the business card to my new financial advisor who will be handling all the funds.
I stepped out into the sunlight in my $12.56 outfit from the dollar store, with my debit card that contained millions of dollars on it. What the hell? What was that Crazy Pants thinking? Holy Shit! I started the four mile walk back to Frances’ house—I mean my house. My mind was spinning and I couldn’t even get a single thought out of myself. Holy Shit! I needed to get a grip, and real soon because I have to get back to my home!
I was about a mile into my walk when something caught my eye. It was red. It was beautiful. A ‘66 Ford 150 with side steps and a ‘For Sale’ sign in the back window. Like a magnet it pulled me towards it. I couldn’t sway from it if I wanted to. I stood inches away from the magnificent restored truck. It was simply gorgeous. The inside was perfectly restored. It was so very shiny! My heart melted at the sight of this beautiful machine.
It reminded me of something my Poppy would drive. I still held my Poppy in my heart and thought of him often. The longer I stood by it, the more I knew that it belonged to me. It was my future and would take me to meet my destiny. So I marched up to the little dumpy manufactured home that was labeled the “Office.” I waltzed in with a purpose and within ten minutes, waltzed right back out, the proud owner of a new truck!
Pulling away in my new truck was the best feeling I have ever had. It’s been years since I drove a stick shift. It felt so great bringing the engine to life and shifting the gears while picking up speed. Yes, this new lady was now my new best friend. My best friend needed a name. I thought for several blocks as I accelerated and shifted through the gears. I thought maybe Lola, Candy, Bonnie, or even possibly Ricky. No, she deserved a badass name. It hit me as I rolled to a stop at 5th and Lakeland—her name is Betsy. Betsy and I went on our first shopping trip together. We needed to stop and buy a ‘For Sale’ sign and a pair of lime green hooker heels.
I planned my trip perfectly. It was Wednesday and the Bastard would be arriving at HIS house at exactly 6:45 p.m. So I casually roared ol’ Betsy to a screeching halt into my new driveway, which was perfectly positioned right by his at 6:46. I threw open the door and leisurely allowed each of my long legs to flow out of the truck. I was trying damn hard to turn on my sexy. When my lime green hooker heels clicked on the cement, I knew I had the Bastard’s full attention. I threw my hair back over my shoulder and jiggled my very large boobies at him.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing here, and what are you driving?” he said. With my best I don’t give a damn attitude, I strolled over to him. When I was so close that I could feel his breath and smell the mint and stale cigarette smoke on him, I gently reached down my lace top and pulled out an env
elope.
With a shocked look on his face, he hissed, “I’m not taking you back! You’re nothing but white trash and served your purpose in my life. You entertained my mom while I became successful and kept my home nice. It’s not my fault that your own parents didn’t even want you, so now why don’t you run off and apply for welfare and get a job at the local Denny’s.”
Ouch, that hurt just a tiny little bit deep down. I didn’t let the hurt last long, because I was about to make this Bastard hurt, and I mean hurt him the best way I knew how. I simply and very coolly replied, “Your mom left this letter for you. She thought it best that you hear this news from her and not her lawyer or my financial advisor. As much as this does pain me to say it, thank you. Thank you for the best years of my life and sharing your mother with me. I don’t regret marrying you because I never would have had my Frances May Crazy Pants in my life. That was a huge gift while I had the misfortune of calling you my husband.”
He gazed at me dumbfounded, as he gripped the letter that would change his life forever in his right hand. I took two steps and then turned around and hollered over my shoulder at him, “Oh, by the way, your frat brother Grant Smith had superb skills when going down on a lady compared to you, but I did become a pro at faking it while you tried. You may want to reconnect with Grant to brush up on your oral skills!”
“Bitch!” he muttered. I strolled away and let myself into my new house. I wondered how long it would take for the dumb fucker to read the letter. I’m sure he has hung his coat up and made himself a Crown and Coke. Instead of dwelling on when my ex-Bastard would be devastated, I made my way up to Frances’ room.
I knew the things I wanted of hers. I collected the items and placed them in a plastic tote. She was very fond of all her jewelry, with stories behind each piece. She was very eager to pass these down to her granddaughters one day. I needed the jewels to help mend the gaping hole in my heart she left. I wouldn’t be able to pass them down to her granddaughters, so I would keep them very close to me.
Once I had everything packed up, I went back downstairs to call my financial advisor. I informed him that I wanted to sell the house and cars, and that I wanted all the money to go to the local soup kitchen that Frances and I were so fond of. He wasn’t so crazy about this idea. He reminded me about the value of the house and cars several times throughout the conversation. I didn’t care! I knew where the money belonged, and I knew it would make my Crazy Pants happy!
I ended the call, grabbed the two totes of what I had left of Frances, and gave the place one last glance. I twirled around in the entry way, taking in all the good memories I had of this house, and said one last goodbye to my old life. I opened the door to a very-red faced and pissed off Mr. Montgomery. Oh, this is going to be a freaking blast, I thought. I had no idea that it was even possible to love my Frances even more at that moment. “Can I help you?” I purred in a very smitten voice, while twirling my hair.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Is this a practical joke? You really think that I’m going to let you waltz right out of here with my inheritance? Well, think again, you little bitch!” screamed the Bastard, while pounding on the railing on the front porch.
In a very calm and happy voice, I simply stated, “It was your mother’s choice, and the least we can do is respect it. Have a nice day, you heartless bastard.” I sashayed past him, giggling the whole way. I threw the two tubs in the back of Betsy and grabbed the red and white “For Sale” sign. Walking smack dab to the center of the front yard, I pushed down the sign with my financial advisor’s information on it. I danced back to my truck, where the Bastard now stood with his arms crossed and his jaw locked. I patted him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Good luck with your new neighbors!”
I went to get in the truck and that’s when it happened. The Bastard pulled out all the stops. He hit the ground, falling to his knees and started pleading, “Baby, please I need you! I was so hurt when you filed for divorce. Don’t leave. Stay here with me and we can keep mom’s memories alive. Just the two of us together forever in the home I have built for you. I’ll change just for you. You’re the love of my life!”
Wow, that was an amazing performance. I have to give him credit, because he was simply shameless! I tilted my head and touched both of his shoulders. I convinced him with my body actions that I was just about to give in to his plea. Then in one swift movement, I pushed him back on his ass. “I think it’s about time you go visit your dentist to get that cavity filled!” I shouted as I climbed into Betsy.
Badass move number one happened when I fired up Betsy, pulled on my aviators and roared out of the driveway while Aaron stayed sprawled on the ground. Yes, I called him Aaron. He was not my Bastard anymore. He had no more control over my life and would not hurt me with his awful words anymore. He could not dominate my life by taking away everything I had once owned. He was now Aaron Montgomery, who was my past and would stay in my past forever.
Chapter 5
New Beginnings
A sudden realization dawned on me that I had no clue where in the eff I was going, or what the hell I was doing. I pulled into the nearest gas station. Well, I would need gas if I was going to go anywhere. But was I going? Could I leave Sacramento? Did I want to stay here and make a new life for myself? Could I stay?
I sat in the parking lot pondering these questions as I watched customers from different walks of life go in and out of the convenient store. I’m not quite sure how long it took me to realize that I was going. Where to…I had no fucking clue.
I pulled up to the closest pump and filled up Betsy. I then went into the store, bought a diet soda, a couple bottles of water, a bag of Gardetto’s, peanut butter M&M’s and a pack of smokes. I have never bought cigarettes before, but it just felt like the badass thing to do. I may need them to help soothe the impending panic attack I was sure that was ahead of me.
I paid for my gas and items. I turned to walk out of the store and held the door open for an elderly gentleman who was probably in his late 70’s. He was quite friendly as he thanked me, and I’m pretty sure he tried to make a grab for my ass. “Where would you go if you could move anywhere?” It left my lips before I realized what I was asking.
“Oh, you sweet little miss, that’s an easy question! I would go back home to Colorado. It’s a much simpler life there,” he explained with little effort. I gave him a wink and then shocked the hell out of him by grabbing his ass! So Colorado it was.
I cracked opened my diet soda and started the task of ravaging my Gardetto’s. Before I hit the road, I had to make a Bucket List to keep me focused on my life journey, and of course to fulfill the wishes of my Crazy Pants. She was always into adventures. I pulled out my little black and white Damask Journal with my initials scrawled across the hot pink banner in lime green print. I titled the blank page “Bucket List Thingy.”
Bucket List Thingy:
(In no certain order)
Hot sex in an elevator (so yeah, it’s at the top for a reason).
Open my own craft shop & name it “The Shop”.
Create beautiful creations.
Have a mismatching set of silverware, cups, & plates.
Never pass up the opportunity to eat at a good taco van.
Open a coffee shop in The Shop…maybe a drive-thru one?
Wear crazy headbands.
Random hook-ups with random men in random towns and in random places. (Hello! I have just left a shitty marriage and need some damn good nookie to make up for over 6 years of luke-warm nookie!)
Run free and fearless into the future…Go!
Buy a puppy & name it Olive.
Go to Disneyland.
Bacon and bare feet.
Find an orgasmic potato salad recipe for my Crazy Pants.
Stand up for myself.
Creating the list was quite fun and liberating at the same time. Let the journey begin. After, stopping at a cell phone store and purchasing my very first smart phone, I pushed the throttle
down and waved goodbye to the big city in the rear view mirror. Nothing but 1,104 miles of wide open road ahead of me. My Poppy made sure that his girl was more than capable of routing a route, reading road signs and spotting wildlife crossings. I cranked up “The Long Way Home” by Norah, and drove and drove and drove and drove and fucking drove.
I finally decided to stop in Reno. I needed some R&R, and I also needed to do some research on the town in Colorado I would finally call home. Over the next two days I stayed at Circus Circus, enjoying the luxurious room and spending time by the pool. I was never in a hurry to get anywhere and always ordered food in.
I found the perfect town right outside of Fort Collins to settle into. I even called on a vacant building that was nestled smack dab in the middle of town on the main drag. I had an appointment next Thursday to meet with the realtor. The vacant building had an apartment located right above it. The realtor had warned me that it was a fixer-upper. I reassured her that was exactly what I was looking for. I needed a project in my life that would keep me busy.
I rode the elevator several times at the hotel. I started feeling like a stalker, watching every man enter and exit. Sometimes, I would flush several shades of crimson, thinking naughty thoughts. I felt like the words, “Hey, I want to get banged in this elevator!” were stamped on my forehead. I needed to get this urge under control before I accidentally jumped some hot, random dude in the elevator and then had criminal charges slapped on my ass.