Written By: Justin Case
Edited By: Ed
September 30, 2001
Disclaimer: This story is fiction, and was created by the author. It contains sexually graphic language and must be viewed by persons of legal age. This material covers a wide array of diversified relationships, and if you find this particular subject matter objectionable, you have the power to leave this site now. It is in your hands, the writer, his editors, and publisher, accept no responsibility for the actions of the reader. If the viewer continues to read this material, it is with the understanding, that they accept full legal obligation in doing so. This work is protected in accordance with the copyright laws of the United Sates of America, and all rights are reserved.©JCPCo2001
SoapBox®:. Hello, once again, all my faithful. I hope at the time of this writing all is well in your lives. Things here have been busy. Hehe, yep, with all the writing, and website responsibilities, I am clocking in the hours here. Not to mention my frequent message sessions with you all and the letters I must answer. I love it! I really do. You all give me purpose. The purpose that I speak of translates into my strong desire to satisfy your tastes with my work.
If you'd care to write me, the address isJustin69SK@aol.comand if you'd like to view my site, where I keep all my work, as well as the work of a few of my favorite other writers go to http://Justinscorner.homestead.com
Thank you all for being there, and being you. As always, but not forever, Just Justin<>
She stood in the large bathroom, gazing into the mirror that was mounted over the custom vanity with dual clam shell sinks mounted beside each other, separated with a few feet of marble counter top between them. She looked deeply into her own face, and worried about what most women her age did. Her aging process, and whether it was going to be graceful. She scanned her face for telltale signs of her age. Only a few lines around the eyes seemed prominent to her. It was the few more wisps of gray hair that bothered Allyson the most.
She wondered if her age was hampering her job prospects. She couldn't help feeling that as a woman in her late thirties, divorced to boot, that was hurting her chances in the small community of Oakdale. Hell, she knew if she was a man, the largest firm in town would be wining and dining her. It had been three days since her interview with Jefferson, Highers, and Andrews.
She nervously tugged at her long light brown hair; the overhead lights in the bathroom made the gray stand out. Her green eyes shot down in the mirror towards the reflection of her waist. She had lost four pounds, and to her it was not enough. Allyson moved her left hand towards her belly as she stared into the mirror. She had that nagging feeling again.
"Ally? You OK?" Leslie's soft voice called from outside the bathroom door.
"Yeah, fine. I'll be right out," Allyson said, hoping Leslie wouldn't come in and find her and the evidence of her purge, that remained in the toilet behind her. She quickly turned and flushed the toilet, made a quick gesture with her hands to smooth her long flowing hair and started towards the door.
"I was beginning to worry, you were in there for quite a while," Leslie said with a look of concern.
"Just looking at my gray hair," Allyson softly told her, looking for a little reassurance from her lover.
Leslie picked up on it and gently took Allyson into her arms. "Listen, Sweetie, you look great. You'll hear from them tomorrow, I can feel it."
"Yeah, but a color rinse wouldn't be a bad idea," Allyson thought aloud.
"Hey, it's only seven thirty, what say we run over to Stop and Shop and pick some up right now?" Leslie quickly suggested.
"I don't know. I'm kind of nervous about how Jeremy's going to take the news. I don't know if I want to be out, just in case he comes home all upset," Allyson reasoned.
"Tell you what, Ally, I'll run over to the store. You wait here for Jeremy." Leslie left no room for discussion.
Just then, the telephone began ringing. Allyson's heart skipped a beat, she feared it was her teenage son. Allyson quickly moved into their bedroom, she grabbed the phone on the night-stand.
"Hello?" the anxious mother said into the receiver.
"Yes, may I speak with Allyson Thornburn, please?" the unfamiliar female voice inquired.
"This is Allyson."
"Oh, I'm glad I caught you. This is Cassandra Tacano. Tom Andrews gave me your name. I'm the senior principal of Rogers and Rogers, up here in Boston."
Allyson knew the firm; it was one of the top law firms in the Bay State. Its reputation had spread far, especially after the Towers Record case. She had heard that Old Man Rogers had died years ago, and left the firm to his son. `Wait a second,' she thought, `didn't the son die too, some horrible car wreck?'
"Oh, I didn't know your firm was still practicing. I thought Mr. Rogers was deceased," Allyson blurted out her suspicions.
"Yes, both of them have passed on. I took over, that's the reason I'm calling you. You see, I just recently acquired the firm, I still haven't had a chance to take my Connecticut bar exam. I need a Connecticut attorney for a large client of ours."
"I see. Who's the client?" Allyson asked, wondering how smart this Tacano was.
"Well, I'd rather not go into it over the phone. Let's just say, if you agree to my offer, you could write your own ticket down there in little old Oakdale," Tacano boasted, her voice full of confidence.
`Touche',' Allyson thought, `the woman didn't tip her hand and risk having the client stolen'. She decided to hear Cassandra out, "What did you have in mind?"
"Could you come up to Boston tomorrow afternoon? I'll tell you all about it."
"You mean tomorrow, as in Saturday?" Allyson asked, thinking this must be big.
"Do you have a fax? I'll fax you the directions," Cassandra offered.
"Sure do, the number is eight, six o, five, five, five, four, three, two, two." Allyson rattled the number off.
"Got it. I'll fax them right down. I'll see you tomorrow, say two o'clock?"
"Sounds good," Allyson said, keeping her excitement hidden, and she slowly replaced the phone into its cradle.
"Who was that, Sweetie?" came Leslie's voice from behind her.
"That was one of the most recognized law firms from Boston calling. They want to make me an offer," Allyson gleefully announced.
"You mean like we may have to move to Boston?" Leslie sounded upset as she asked.
"Gosh no, Comstock, I wouldn't even think of moving. Jeremy's graduating this June. Apparently, they are in need of a Connecticut license and Tom Andrews gave them my name." Allyson suddenly wondered why Tom didn't take the offer, she knew that his firm certainly could use the business, and if this deal was a big as Tacano said...
"That's great, Sweetie." Leslie beamed with excitement, and took Allyson's mind off her concerns.
"I have to meet with them tomorrow at two." Allyson began to leave the bedroom to head down to her office to check the fax.
"Hey, Mom? You home?" Jeremy's voice bellowed through the condo.
"In my office," Allyson yelled back to him, not wanting to leave the fax machine.
Jeremy ran down the stairs into his mother's office. The condominium had three floors; the first floor had the living room, dining room, and kitchen. The second floor was where the three bedrooms were, while the ground floor was the office and family room, just off the family room was a small laundry room. It had been built in the early eighties, when the building boom was going on. It was cheaply constructed, but looked good. They even had a deck off the living room, it wasn't very large, but a nice place to keep a gas grill and a couple of lawn chairs.
"Gee, Mom, you look great. What's going on?" the small-framed boy asked his mother.
"I'm waiting for some directions to a law firm in Boston. It seems they want to make me a job offer," Allyson told her son.
Jeremy suddenly felt fear rise up from the depths of his stomach, his brown eyes showed his terror. He was afraid to ask, but had to. "Does that mean we're going to move?"
"No, no. I'm sorry, Honey. They need an attorney with a Connecticut license. I didn't mean to upset you."
"Phew, I was a little worried." Jeremy's tension subsided.
"What did you need?" Allyson asked her son, not taking her eyes off the fax machine.
"Oh, do you mind if I go camping for the weekend? I was going to take Joanna to Dad's property in Vermont."
"Does Joanna's mother know? Is she all right with it?"
"Joanna asked her sister, her mother is working. It's OK, Mom," Jeremy honestly told his mother.
"How did it go at your father's?" Allyson asked.
"OK." Jeremy gave the one word answer, he still wasn't ready to talk about what his father had told him.
"Well, I suppose. I have to go to Boston tomorrow at two, so I'll need my cell phone. Maybe you can borrow Leslie's, just in case I have to get in touch with you." Allyson stated her only requirement for permission.
"Great, thanks, Mom." Jeremy tore back up the stairs to find Leslie.
A little while later, the two young lovers were in the Buick on I-91, headed North. The Dave Matthews Band CD played on the speakers, while the two teenagers watched the world go by.
Jeremy kept his speed at a steady sixty-five; he was deep in thought. He wanted to talk to Joanna about what his dad had told him. He just couldn't formulate his ideas enough to talk intelligently about how he felt yet. He kept both his hands on the steering wheel as he bound the car up the expressway. Joanna sat next to him, and gave him the space she knew he needed.
"Huggy Bear? You as excited as I am?" the young boy finally broke the silence.
Wow, what do you know? Cassandra Tacano has made another appearance. For those of you that follow my work, you know Ms. Tacano is the bitch on wheels from Luke's Secret Art. I think we have something brewing, but am not at liberty to discuss it. You'll just have to follow along.
Thanks for reading my stuff.
A special thanks to Ed, for his fine editing.
But Not Forever,