Elmore's Corner...Round Five.

I have no memory of the next two weeks. My only defense is that I was subjected to the continuous arrival of some of the most gorgeous livestock the State of Texas had ever seen, and it all had to stop in at Billy's house. I was in a constant state of hyperawareness, and it seemed that all I could see anymore were men's chests and hips and shoulders and biceps and thighs...in various states of dress and undress, flexed and bunched and relaxed and sweaty and cleanly pink and...sorry.

Beth:  Need some help?

Deb:  I seem to have it under control, why?

Beth:  No, you don't understand.  That only sounded like a question.  It
was a statement of fact.  You need some help.

Deb:  Doing what?  It's just Elmore and Billy and...Sam Quint?

Beth:  You need lots of help.

I glanced behind me at the kitchen table.  Elmore and Billy were there,
as were Bully and Billy McCain and the newest arrival, Sam Quint, who was 
being filled in on what was going on and what was being asked of him.  I
looked him over discretely - supertight black jeans, snug white shirt,
short little black jacket that strained just a bit across the marvelous
span of the shoulders, longish hair...

Deb:  This is beyond my ability to handle.  I will need assistance rendered
posthaste.

Beth:  Come again?

Deb:  Get your ass over here.  I need help.  Lots of help.

Beth:  You learn quint...er...quick.

Beth showed up in quint...dammit...quick time, bearing extra towels, a
huge dish of her special enchiladas and a small bag of miscellany.

Deb:  In the kitchen.  Gulp.

McCain:  They for us, ma'am?  They smell awful good.

Beth:  Oh...these?  I just tossed them together.  Would you like some?

Billy McCain nodded, smiled shyly.  Beth handed him the dish in a fog,
and between them they nearly landed the contents on the floor.  His
fingers brushed hers as he accepted the container, and I could see her
almost panicking right in front of me.  I reached over smoothly and took
the enchiladas from Billy.

Deb:  Come on, Bill...let's dish up.  I'm sure the whole crew is hungry,
since my cooking is definitely subpar.

McCain:  Aw, now, ma'am...it ain't that.

Deb:  The hell it ain't, Bill.  Tell the truth and shame the devil, boy.  
You won't hurt my feelings.

Billy:  Whatcha got there, little girl?  Lunch and the Pipsqueak, in that
order.  You bring us a ton-a-those damn enchiladas of yours?

Beth:  Only figured on a ton because I knew you'd eat half of 'em yourself,
you hog.

Bully:  Beth, Darlin'...you look half-dressed.  Where's...

Beth:  Sam?  Home with Roy Foltrigg.

Now there was something to think about.  I had all this delectable
maleness crowding my house, watching television, sitting in the hot-tub,
lifting...but Beth had Foltrigg to deal with and that was enough to make
anybody's oatmeal stick going down all by itself.

McCain:  Roy Foltrigg?  Ain't he some lawyer-type from New Orleans?

Billy:  Yup, but for once he's on the right side.  Gimme them enchiladas,
Punk.  'Bout time we had some real food in the joint.

Beth reached out and seized the dish of food from Billy.

Beth:  Not a damn bite unless you apologize to Deb.  She never claimed to
like to cook and now she's got all of you to feed.  I'm sure she's doin'
the best she can.

Deb:  And it's not any too good.

Beth:  But they're not gonna mouth off about it.  You're the one with all
the work to do.  Apologize.

Billy:  Sorry, baby.

There was a chorus of muttered apologies from everybody but Sam Quint,
who had yet to deal with my slop.  The men grabbed clean plates out of the
cupboard and silverware out of the drawer and fell on the enchiladas.  I
turned to the laundry room and started to gather up clean sheets.  Billy
followed me into the room and put Beth out, gently.  He told her to go
make sure Quint got enough of the enchiladas.

Billy:  Gonna take those over to the Corner, baby?

Deb:  Soon as you find somebody to go with me.

Billy:  Been pretty hectic around here lately.

Deb:  Busy enough.  It'll get busier, I suppose.

Billy stood behind me, his arms around my waist.

Billy:  You gonna help Elmore out?

Deb:  Still thinkin'.  Depends on what my man wants.

Billy:  You know what your man wants.  I'll go find somebody to take ya 
t'the Corner.  'Bout ready?

Deb:  Almost.

Beth was wondering how Deb, who was so hideously susceptible to good
looking men, was managing in the middle of Testosterone Central.  According
to Elmore, there were more expected over the next couple of days.

Deb:  Come on, Beth.  Ready to go?

Beth:  Down to the Corner?  What's with the sheets?

Billy:  Two or three of the guys sleepin' down there every night.  We ain't
leavin' the place alone for a minute.

Beth:  Then who's down there right now?

Billy:  John Neville and Coley Blake.

Beth noticed the dreamy look that came over Deb's face at mention of
John Neville.  She wondered if the man had ever lost his turtlenecks and
tight-ass hiphugger pants.  No wonder Billy was keeping him down there.

Billy:  Quint, why don't you and Billy go on down and spell those two, send 
'em on back so they can get somethin' t'eat.  Take the girls.

Beth was in some kind of trance as we drove the short distance to the
Corner.  Billy had almost had to force Quint to drive the Suburban and not
the spacey looking black car he'd pulled up in.  Billy McCain and I chatted
easily as we drove.  We had been on excellent terms since I had cleaned and
bandaged a cut he'd dealt himself unfolding the cots at the Corner.  He
treated me with the respect and deference he might have shown his mother, 
and I responded in kind.  There was a long black Cadillac parked in front of
the Corner when we pulled up.

Quint:  Who the hell is that?

Deb:  Oh...no.

Beth:  What?

Deb:  That's the car Cole was chasing me in the other night.  I'd know it
anyplace.

Beth:  Must not be a tough call...the license plate says 'COLE'.  Well,
that settles it, I'm not goin' in there.

I pulled my new cellphone out of my purse and dialed up home.

Deb:  Elmore?...get Billy, please...Billy, get down here NOW.  Cosmo and
Cole...yeah, the C&C Bullshit Factory...they're inside the Corner...you
want me to sit outside?...why?...okay, we'll wait.  He says we should sit
out here until he comes.

Beth:  I'm gonna go ya one better.  I'm gonna sit out here after he comes,
and I'm not movin' until Cole leaves.

Quint:  Who is this boy?

Deb:  Big man with his fists.  Likes to beat up on people that can't fight
back.  Particularly women.

McCain:  Way I hear it, Deb, you giv'm a surprise.

Deb:  Yeah, Billy, I did.  I punched him in the nuts.  I got slammed up
against the wall for my pains but...he felt it.

Quint:  I don't think I'd want you punchin' me in the nuts.

Deb:  I can just about guarantee you'd think twice about it.  Doin' it was
the only reason I got away.  Cosmo dragged Cole out of the room to twist his
ear a little and Angelo Perino pretended he didn't see me hit the door doin'
about ninety.

Quint:  That damn little moron!  He in this somehow?  Dumbass couldn't
drive his way outuv a wet sack!

Beth:  Either Mr. Perino's reputation precedes him, or methinks someone is
jealous.

Quint turned, leaned over the seat, closed in on Beth, stared at her with
flashing dark eyes in a chiseled face.  Beth swallowed heavily, managed a
tremulous smile and sat primly back.  No doubt visions of Gerard were
careening through her head...along with visions of the Divine Roy.

Behind us, Elmore's shitbox Camaro and a truly venerable Jimmy 4X4 screeched
to a halt.  Billy and Company had made it in record time.

Billy:  Come on, you bastards, y'wanna live forever?  Pipsqueak, and you
especially, Punk, you stay outside.

Deb:  My ass...

Billy:  ...is gonna be grass if you don't start mindin' me.  Out here.

I sat back.  Billy's flashing dark eyes were having the same effect on
me as Quint's had had on Beth.

Deb:  Okay.  Whatever...

Billy:  You two're safer anywhere that asshole's not, an' you know it.
Will you for once just do like I say without givin' me a shitload of
attitude?

Deb:  You'd think we were sick if we didn't.

Beth:  Speak for yourself, here.

Billy reached over and gave Beth's cheek a friendly pinch.  Then he
took me by the back of the head and pulled me down to his level.

Billy:  Keep your ass out.  Cole don't like it when people make him look
like an idiot, and he likes it even less when the person is a woman.

Deb:  So I'm supposed to let him chase me out of the bar?

Billy:  You're supposed do what you're told.

Deb:  Hell.

The men trooped into the Corner, leaving Beth and I to sit in the hot 
sun in a black car and roast.  Beth weathered this reasonably well, but I
was in agony almost from the instant the car was turned off. Soon sweat was
pouring off me in rivulets and I was extremely pissed and hostile.

Beth:  Don't do it.

Deb:  Do what?

Beth:  Go in there.  Bill's right and you know it.  Stay out.

Deb:  I'm friggin' hot and I need to get the dormitory straightened up and
John Neville's in there and if I don't feel like a cradle robber but who 
gives a damn...

Beth:  Cradle robber?

Deb:  What is he, thirty, thirty one?  Just a baby...but what a baby!...

Beth started giggling...she knew I was like a kid in a candy shop with
just Billy, let alone the rest of this thyroidal gorgeousness around.  I
think my attraction to John Neville kind of puzzled her...after Bill what
possible interest could I have in the disco-boy?  Maybe it was the hair...
or the tight-ass hiphuggers.  I didn't know, I just knew staring was 
starting to turn into something more than just idle amusement.

Beth:  Deb...

Deb:  I'm goin' in there.  You don't have to...

I hopped out of the Suburban, grabbed my sheets and let myself in the
door.  There was quite a conversation going on.

Cosmo:  ...unlimited potential, here, Elmore.

Elmore:  That's what they tell me.

Cosmo:  Sure you'll be able to handle things all by yourself?  To be honest,
it might be more than a man of your...specialized talents...would be able
to deal with.  My offer stands...give me a 75% interest in the place and 
stay on to manage it for me.

Billy:  That's no offer...'sides, Elmore ain't the sole owner...are ya, 
pard?

I picked that moment to try and slide through the knot of big, beautiful,
sweaty men in the door separating the kitchen from the bar...

TO BE CONTINUED...