Righting A Wrong

"Damn; and they ALL need to work on their batting," Russell said, exasperated. "First game; they were all just nervous. He'll do better, all right?"

"I'll pay you," Penny offered. "Come work with him, one on one, teach him how to hit the ball."

"And how'd you get this phone number anyway?" Russell yelled, angry again.

"You gave it to us," Penny yelled back. "Remember? You gave it to everybody on your team!"

"Oh yeah," Russell admitted.

"A hundred," Penny offered. "I'll give you a hundred dollars for every lesson."

"A hundred? Lady, you are out of your flipping mind; know that?" Russell stammered.

"Please?" Penny wheedled.

ONE ON ONE TRAINING

Russell earned two hundred dollars before the next game. Lucas was a mediocre student; wanting to take one lesson and be able to hit home runs immediately.

For Russell, it was grueling. Penny and Lucas lived six blocks away from Russell's boyhood home.

It was also grueling; each time he tossed the ball to Lucas, Russell remembered doing the same with his dad and with his dad and his sister.

On the field, Penny had worn her business suits. At home, she wore denim shorts and snug tee shirts or tank tops. The denim shorts displayed Penny's chunky ass to perfection; Russell admired her thick pale legs, slightly soft belly, and pert breasts and yes, even her face. But when she'd turn her back to him, he would look at that pudgy ass.

"Holy Moley; got to get cracking," Russell said, glancing at his watch. "One more time then I got to go; no, no, get the bat off your shoulder, come on Lucas, pay attention."

"Where do you have to go?" Penny asked, swinging one leg, dangling her flip-flop from her foot."

"Eat dinner, iron my uniform, then get my hiney down to the job site," Russell explained and frowned when Lucas let a perfect pitch sail past him.

"Oh," Penny said and sat up a little straighter. "You want to eat with us?"

"No," Russell said and threw another pitch.

"Come on, Lucas; what was wrong with that one?" Russell asked, frustrated.

Penny's feelings were hurt; Russell had not even hesitated in turning down her hospitality.

"You don't even know what we're having," she said.

"Don't matter," Russell shrugged.

"Fine," Penny said and held out the hundred dollar bill. "Thank you for your time."

"All right Lucas; see you at the field tomorrow, right?" Russell said, accepting a 'high five' from the boy.

"Wash your hands; tacos okay for supper?" Penny asked the boy.

"Yeah, I guess," Lucas shrugged.

At practice, Penny wore her business attire; Russell smirked remembering her somewhat large ass which seemed to be somehow slimmer in her skirt.

"Think she likes you?" Michael Two asked Russell , nodding toward Penny.

"No, not really; Russell smiled. "Think she likes making me miserable."

Penny screamed happily as Lucas actually managed to connect with the ball. It only went a few feet and Michael One tossed it to first base before Lucas could get to base. But it was a hit. He had actually hit the ball.

The second time Russell came to the house, Lucas seemed to be buoyed by his successful hit at practice. He paid attention, he followed through and smiled.

Russell felt like he had earned the second hundred dollar bill.

Penny did not offer dinner, just held out the hundred dollar bill when Russell declared that practice time was over.

Russell smirked; her khaki shorts gaped open, letting him know that red was indeed Penny's natural hair color and that she wore no panties.

"All right, Lucas; we play the Hawks Saturday and what are we going to do?" Russell yelled.

"Eat them alive!" Lucas yelled back.

"It's his dad's weekend," Penny said needlessly; Russell didn't care where Lucas would be. "But I'll be at the game."

"Uh huh," Russell said darkly. "At least his dad gets to see him; I don't get to see my kid."

Friday, when Darryl picked up his son, he just nodded when Penny reminded him about the game on Saturday, promised to have Lucas there in time, and left.

Penny shut the door and sighed; the house was always so empty when her son, her little man wasn't there.

She puttered about the house, then fixed herself a drink. Twenty minutes later, most of the drink was watered down by the melted ice and she poured it out.

"I hate his weekends," she said aloud, then readied for bed, even though it was still daylight outside.

At three o'clock in the morning, Penny sat bolt upright in her bed.

Russell had not seen his daughter in over eleven months, had been denied his Wednesday evening visits and his weekends, if what he had told her was true.

Tears actually came to her eyes as she thought about how devastated she would be if she didn't get to spend time with her Lucas.

She had trouble falling back asleep but finally did doze lightly.

At seven o'clock, she fired up her office laptop computer and read through the Jones V. Jones file she had.

Judge Lori Duplantis had, as was to be expected, been very harsh in her decision; the money alone was unreasonable. But she had also granted Russell supervised visitation. Mrs. Anderson, the lead counselor with St. Elizabeth's Children's Services had even recommended that the supervised provision be lifted.

"So why isn't Russell Jones getting any time with his daughter?" Penny asked herself as she sipped her coffee.

At nine thirty, after her breakfast, hour long workout and twenty minute bath, Penny dressed and drove to Russell's apartment complex.

A dog's loud bark came booming out when she knocked. Two minutes later, she knocked again and again was greeted by the booming bark.

What?" Russell sleepily demanded, yanking the door open. "Oh, fuck me! What? Huh? What? What in the Hell do you want? God damn, woman! I'll be at the field at four; you couldn't wait until then to ride my ass?"

"I uh, I was looking at your file and..." Penny stammered, upset at Russell's hateful response.

"Great, Lady, just fucking great," Russell spat. "Just got to sleep but no! Now I got to take this bitch for another walk."

Thus saying, he grabbed Cookie's leash.

Penny watched as the man sleepily led the happy dog down the flight of stairs, then began a slow, steady lope down Highway 52.

She stood, unsure of what to do, then heard a door open and looked down the corridor.

"Ola," a shirtless man smiled, displaying tobacco stained teeth.

"Um, Ola," Penny agreed then stepped into Russell's apartment.

She sat on the well worn couch, idly looking around at the nearly empty apartment.

Twenty minutes later, a panting Dog and owner stumbled in.

"Now, what in the fuck is so God damned important that you had to wake me up first thing in the fucking morning?" Russell spat at Penny.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jones; I don't know your schedule," Penny apologized. "But really, there is no need for all the vulgarities."

"Fuck you. Okay? Fuck you, you miserable, hateful cunt; fuck you," Russell snarled at her. "Suck my dick, kiss my ass, eat shit and die, and fuck off, all right?"

Cookie sat and bared her teeth at Penny, a low grumble coming from the beast.

"Mr. Jones," Penny whispered, the tears catching in her throat at Russell's hateful words. "I want to help you."

"Help me?" Russell asked bitterly. "Help me? Bitch! The fucking time to help me would have been when that dried up, miserable fucking hag bitch judge was gutting me! That would have been the time to help me!"

"You're right," Penny admitted. "You're right and I'm sorry."

Cookie's grumbling became a snarl.

"No, Cookie, no; down girl," Russell quickly said, realizing that the beast was picking up on his anger.

"Now, please tell me why you haven't seen Katy," Penny said, watching as Cookie lay down on the floor.

"I go to the house; they're not there, bitch doesn't pick up when I call her cell, mom says she doesn't know where they are. Supposed to drop her off over here on Wednesdays, says 'Oh, I forgot; oh well, we're already eating' when I call her," Russell said bitterly.

"Did you call..." Penny asked.

"Call Sonny Lambert, my dumb ass lawyer?" Russell said. "He says he'll look into it but he probably ain't since I still owe him like two thousand from the divorce."

"Fine," Penny said, getting to her feet.

Cookie immediately got to her feet.

"She will let me out, right?" Penny quietly asked Russell.

"She won't do anything unless I tell her to," Russell assured her. "Cookie's a very good girl, aren't you? Yes you are!"

Cookie gave him a reassuring bark, tail wagging happily.

"I'll look into it, Mr. Jones," Penny said, sidling toward the door of the apartment, one eye on the dog.

"Uh huh," Russell said, not believing her.

"Go Bears," Penny said, smiling softly.

"Go Bears," Russell smiled tightly.

"Now, come on, you mangy mutt," Russell said, locking the door behind Penny. "There's a bed in there with our name on it."

SECOND GAME

Penny held her breath as Lucas walked up to the plate, bat already at the ready.

"Ball one," Darren Richards (no relation to Darryl Richards) called out.

Penny sat up straighter as the ball streaked toward her baby.

"Aieegh!" she screamed out as Lucas managed to connect solidly with the ball.

"Run!" she screamed out as Lucas raced to first, then second base.

He did not get off of second base; the pitcher managed to strike Michael Two out, Scottie's pop-up was caught and then Jacob struck out.

"But you got on base," Russell encouraged Lucas as the boy trotted in.

"Yeah, man, next time you'll knock it out of the park," Michael One declared.

Penny looked over at where Darryl and Ethel sat. Just like last game, Darryl was paying more attention to the girl than to his son.

Again, Ethel was wearing far too much make-up, her large breasts barely contained within a halter top and her denim shorts displayed a good portion of her buttocks.

"Stop it," Penny scolded herself for thinking so poorly of the girl. "You don't even know her; she could be a very sweet girl."

Penny had been a very sweet girl when she fell for Darryl Richards. The famous athlete had given the commencement speech at her high school graduation, signed a few baseballs afterward and asked her out when she asked for a baseball.

He took Penny to Ruth's Chris Steak House in Lafayette, drove her to his condominium on West Bayou Parkway, poured them each a glass of wine, and played a pornographic movie on his plasma television.

Penny balked at going all the way; she was still a virgin. In all actuality, Darryl Richards was only the third person she'd ever had a date with.

Darryl agreed that a blow job was almost as good as actual sex and even suggested that she might enjoy anal sex as well.

"Got the ass for it," he leered, pinching her ample backside.

Three dates later, Darryl insisted; pussy or ass, no more blow jobs. Just like blow jobs, though, vaginal sex with Darryl Richards was very one-sided. He jammed his cock into her dry pussy, battered through her hymen, pumped three times and flooded her pussy with his semen.

"Ever think about shaving it?' he asked, getting to of the bed.

He agreed to marriage when Penny popped up pregnant. He did not agree, however, to her continuing with her pans to go to college.

"What you need that for?" he asked. "I make enough money; you don't need that."

"I'm going to be a lawyer," Penny insisted. "Remember? Our first date? You asked me what I wanted to do and I told you, I've wanted to be a lawyer all my life."

Darryl Richards was of no help whatsoever while Penny pored over her textbooks, blaring the television as loud as he could stand it, loudly demanding dinner, demanding sex. He was even less help when Lucas was born (and pouted tremendously that she did not name his son after him). Studying had to be done in between feedings and diaper changes and baths and sleep.

She managed to graduate in three years and was accepted by the University of Louisiana at DeGarde's Legal Studies and continued to excel, despite Darryl's attempts.

Penny suspected Darryl was having affairs; had suspected his playing around for nearly their entire marriage. But the closer she got to achieving her goal, the more flagrant Darryl became until she could no longer ignore is philandering.

Donald Pellichet, one of her instructors and a very successful attorney joked with her, "I'll handle your divorce, if that's what you want, and I'll do it for free. The only requirement is that you have to come work for Richards, Pellichet, and Associates when you pass the Bar."

"Deal," Penny smiled tightly. "Wow, a divorce AND a job offer? Must be my lucky day."

Then she broke down and sobbed, right in the classroom, in front of her peers.

Darryl looked up from his date, a bubble headed and bubble breasted blonde and smiled as the man approached the table.

"Hey, you, you're Darryl," the man said. "Darryl Richards, right? The baseball player?"

"Yes sir," Darryl smiled, reaching for the envelope the man held in his hand. "Who should I make it out for?"

"Make it out for yourself," the man shrugged. "You've been served."

Darryl was outraged as he read through the petition for divorce.

"Shut up, Terry," he growled when his dinner date commented that he'd told her he was already divorced.

"It's Tammy," the blonde snapped. "And if I'd known you was married..."

"You'd still suck my cock anyway; you're a whore," Darryl snapped. "All you women are fucking whores."

Penny looked back down at the field; Lucas was sitting on the bench with his teammates, looking over his shoulder. She smiled warmly at him, then felt heartsick. He wasn't looking at her; Lucas was looking for his dad, looking for his dad's approval.

But Darryl was still focusing his attention on that painted tart.

The Hawks managed to score one run, thus beating the scoreless Bears. Darryl, instead of congratulating his son, instead of encouraging his boy, made it a point to tell Russell Jones what he should have done instead.

"You done great," Penny heard the girl tell Lucas.

Again, she felt heartsick as Lucas beamed up at the girl. He didn't want any approval from her, his mom, but did want approval from that kid.

Again, Penny scolded herself; the girl seemed genuine in her praise of her son. And praising her Lucas was more than his own father was doing.

She looked over at Russell and smirked. Russell was being polite, diplomatic while Darryl was just being a loud, pompous ass.

"Yeah, I seen you hit that ball; I was sure it was going over the fence," Ethel praised Lucas.

"He's been practicing a lot," Penny told the girl.

"I see that!" Ethel agreed, smiling at her.

"Come on; God damned ass hole coach of yours doesn't know what the hell he's talking about," Darryl muttered, yanking Ethel with his left hand and his son with his right hand, pulling them toward the parking lot.

"Good game, Coach Jones," Penny said, smiling tightly. "We'll get them next time."

"Uh huh," Russell said and turned to give his attention to another boy's mother.

"All right Bears!" Russell yelled for the few remaining kids. "We'll get them next time, right?"

"Right!" the few kids yelled.

"See y'all at practice," Russell yelled, then trotted to his battered old truck.

RECONAISANCE TRAINING

Richard Boudreaux pulled up across the street from the address that Penny Richards had given him.

Every other house on the block was neat, clean in appearance, yards mowed, flowers cared for.

The Jones' home, however, seemed to be badly in need of some maintenance. The grass was high, where there was any grass. There were several dead spots dotted about the front yard. There was a flower box along the front of the house to the left of the front door, but there were no flowers in it. The front door had a large crack which was plainly visible through the torn screen door.

Loud music could be heard thumping even before Richard opened the door of his car.

Three men lazily played basketball, shooting at a basketball goal that seemed to be in danger of falling off of the long pole it was mounted to. Several empty cans of beer were scattered along the edge of the driveway and into the grass.

Richard pulled out a video camera, set it on a tripod and placed it on the passenger seat. He pointed it toward the house, then lowered the window an inch so that the microphone could pick up the loud music blaring from the house.

Richard got out of the car and pointed a second camera and began taking digital stills of the three men playing basketball. He leaned against the car's fender to steady himself. One of theme nudged another and pointed at Richard.

"Hey, hey, what the fuck's that about, huh?" Latavius Jefferson angrily demanded, marching across the street.

"What's what about?" Richard asked, smiling easily.

"The camera, huh? What the fuck you pointing that at me for? Huh?" Latavius demanded, trying to grab at the camera in Richard's hand.

Richard easily blocked Latavius' grab.

"Sir, I am not on your property; I am on a public street and have every right to take pictures if I so choose," Richard said, easy smile never leaving his face.

Latavius was sure that Richard was a private investigator from his former employer, Pilot Petroleum, disputing his worker's compensation claim. He grabbed for Richard's camera again.

"Give me that, mother fucker," Latavius demanded.

"Grab for it again and I'll have to put a real hurt on you," Richard smiled and snapped another picture of Latavius' enraged face.

"Yo, home boy; want to put that thing away; feel me?" one of Latavius' friends came up, making sure that Richard could see the butt of his nine millimeter gun in the waistband of his boxers.

"Oh?" Richard asked, snapping a picture of the man, making sure that the gun was visible in the frame.

"I say you could take my picture?" the other man snapped.

"Don't need your permission," Richard smiled and took a second picture.

Latavius grabbed for the camera a third time, and found himself flat on his back on the pavement. His friend reached for his handgun and came to several minutes later, looking into the face of Deputy Orville Jackson.

Lisa Jones was already in the rear of Orville's cruiser; she'd come out screaming obscenities when Orville pulled up and had taken a swing at him when he ordered her to go back into her house.

Officer Elise Richards pulled up behind Orville's cruiser.

"Good; you take little Miss Potty Mouth; I'll get Wild Bill and Jesse James with me," Orville smiled.

Read her her rights?" Elise asked before opening the rear door of Orville's cruiser.

"Of course," Orville smirked at her.

"My back hurts," Latavius lied. "Mother Fucker hit me; I got a bad back, hurt it on this rig? Man, I'm hurting bad; y'all need take me down to T.C. hear?"

"Let me guess," Orville said. "Soft muscle damage, right?"

"Man I don't know what it is; I look like a doctor?" Latavius yelled.

"Nope; don't even look like you can spell doctor," Richard said and laughed as Latavius lunged at him.

"Sir, please," Orville snapped at Richard. "Bad enough without your help."

"Looks like his back's hurting him real bad there, huh?" Richard laughed as he stepped to the side, avoiding Latavius easily.

Penny looked up when a smiling Richard Boudreaux entered her office. She smiled back; the man always had a smile on his face.

She had commented on that once and he proudly dug out his wallet and showed her a photograph of an ugly little woman with a hideous mop of tightly coiled orange curls holding a cute red headed baby.

"And we're expecting another; hope it's another beauty like her momma," Richard had bragged. "You got that waiting at home, you'd smile too."

"So, how'd you do?" Penny asked as he placed two discs on her desk.