"OH, S..T, NOT YOU!" Pt. 02

This is the second part. I tried to make it funny, and no sex. Hope you enjoy it.

Again, "Humor and Satire." Thank you.

Someone grabbed Carol's cell and speed called Stuart. You remember Stuart, don't you? The stupid cuck she was married to?? Well, technically, he wasn't. But he couldn't bear to witness the destruction of his marriage so he turned off his phone. Right to voicemail. So Marilyn, concerned for her friend's safety (Carol's), scrolled through her numbers and found one for 'Mom'. She dialed and three rings later,-

"Hello, darling how are you?"

"Mrs. Carmicheal, I'm a friend of Carol's (well, I'd like to be!) my name is Marilyn. Your daughter is going to the hospital. She fell and hurt her head. Rather badly, I'm afraid. Your husband is going to the hospital, also. I'm afraid he may have had a stroke."

There was silence on the other end.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. My husband is in New York. '(Or is he, she thought?)' On business. And if you're Carol's friend, where's her husband??"

"UHH, errr, ahem, we can't locate him. His cell is turned off." Marilyn was worried. Stuart was not around and she was afraid that he would not be found. What if something bad happened?

Mrs. Carmicheal started to quake. Then she started to boil over.

"Where has my daughter been taken? I'll be there as soon as I can. If you are her friend, go there and stay with her.

"AND FIND HER HUSBAND!!"

She copied the info down, saved Marilyn's phone number, and hung up. Then she called her husband's cell phone. It went right to voice mail, and she cursed. Casandra Carmichael was not just her husband's wife, and the mother of Carol Miller, she was also the CEO, President, and principal stockholder of Dexter Industrial, Carmichael's company. Actually, it was HER company, inherited from her father, but she hated the business. But she loved being a mother and grandmother to her two sons and four children. But mommy kept her 'finger in the pie' so to speak. She was still the 'Boss' but in the background. The prenuptial agreement would leave him with nothing.

Gene was her second husband and father to Carol Miller. Her first husband had died after 20 years of a wonderful marriage. Col. James Wade was ten weeks away from discharge when he was caught in a roadside ambush in Afghanistan. Gene had been his 'best friend' and consoled her and 'romanced' her. She became pregnant with Carol, they were married, and he stepped up to 'run' the company: 'for her.' (YEAH, RIGHT!!) Why did she ever marry Eugene? Probably because she had been devastated by her husband's death. That God her father had insisted on the pre-nup that they both signed.

She was sure that Gene was fucking around on her, but she didn't care. As long as he kept it on the Q/T, she could live with it. But this was the end. She thumbed speed dial to the corporate flight department. Thank GOD she didn't let Gene use the G-IV. The first call was to Lyle Ferguson, of Ferguson, Smith, and Dowell. The lead attorney representing her on a personal level, was also a lifelong friend, going back to their grammar school days. He answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Cassie, what's going on?"

"This is personal, Lyle. AND SERIOUS," her voice rose.

"Alright, Cassandra. What can I do for you?"

"I need you to come with me to San Diego and prepare to divorce my husband and enforce the prenup. I want him crucified." She wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but it sure didn't sound good.

"Yes ma'am. Are we taking the G?"

"Yes. I am setting it up now. Be at the airport as soon as possible."

"I will, Cassandra. Goodbye."

Randy Liter, the chief pilot answered on the third ring, sounding out of breath.

"Yes, Ma'am, what can I do for you?"

She chuckled. "Are you and Melissa involved or do I have your attention?" Melissa was her favorite flight attendant. She was also Randy's favorite squeeze. She once joked with him that as long as the two of them did a professional job at work, she had no problem with them 'socializing'. "Besides," she had joked, "it saved on a room on the road."

He stuttered. "We were just, uhh, working out, Ma'am. What can I do for you?"

She got serious.

"Round up your co-pilot and warm up the plane. Ask Melissa if she wants to take a trip. This will be off the schedule and on me. We're flying to San Diego to see my daughter. Strictly casual. No uniforms. And right away. I'm on my way to the airport as we speak. Understand?"

"Give us thirty minutes, ma'am. I'm calling the hangar now and have Charlie pre-flight the aircraft." Charlie was their mechanic. He hung up and called Charlie and told him to warm up the bird. Then he called Erich Stross, his co-pilot, and told him to get his ass to the hangar and file a flight plan to San Diego.

'" Crew of three, the boss and possibly one or two other passengers. MOVE IT!" he yelled over the phone. He whipped the covers off him and Melissa, who was slowly waking up and told her to get a move on. She crawled upright and reached for his organ.

"No, honey, we've got to go to work. Come on, move!!"

She muttered something about leaving her hanging and she smacked his ass.

"You owe me," she smirked.

They dressed, now almost fully awake, kissed, and left for the airport.

Cassandra Carmicheal ended the call to her flight department, and speed dialed her #1 son, James. He was also the head of her security department at Dexter Industries. He was an ex-Green Beret, retired as a Captain, and married to a petite Italian girl, Sophia, who was very pretty. And the mother of two of her wonderful grandchildren. Jay-Jay as she called him answered on the fourth ring. Sigh! I hope he wasn't otherwise involved.

He was. Sophia answered the cell.

"Mother, how are you? Is everything alright??"

"No, Sophia, it isn't alright. Wake up Jay-Jay and tell him to get to the hangar. We're going to San Diego. I need him in his business capacity and as my son."

This did not sound good to Sophia. She knew her mother-in-law and father-in-law were having problems, but this sounded really bad.

"I will, mom. Don't do anything foolish. We all love you."

'A little late for that', she thought. 'Not the 'love part', but the 'don't do anything stupid' part.'

*********************************************************************************************************

Cassandra showed up at Dexter Industries hanger to find the G-III on the ramp with the APU running, the baggage door open, and her Chief (only) pilot standing at the foot of the air stair door in a modified parade rest. Charlie had the headsets on, plugged into the wheel-well jack, apparently talking to the co-pilot in the cockpit, and chuckling. He casually saluted Mrs. Carmichael and spoke to the cockpit. The right engine started to turn. The nose gear was chocked and it appeared everyone was awaiting the 'boss's' arrival.

Jay-Jay walked up just behind his mother, and Melissa poked her head out of the main entry door and waved. Cassandra unfolded from her E- Type Jaguar convertible retrieved her overnight bag, briefcase, and laptop from the small trunk. She handed her keys to the 'ramp-rat' and turned to her 'cute little airplane'. The Gulfstream rep wanted her to upgrade to a G-V, but this one was low-time and paid for. Thanks to her Dad's frugality.

James caught up to his mother and kissed her cheek.

"What's wrong, Mom?? Sophia said you sounded like a cross between your dog dying, and someone smashing the Jag."

"You're step-father. And your step-sister," was all she said. As they made it to the air stairs and turned over their bags to Charlie, Lyle Ferguson showed up. He followed suit and everyone clambered aboard. The door cycled closed and Charlie hooked up the intercom again. The left engine started turning as Charlie pulled the mic cord, then the chocks, flipped them the thumbs-up and waved them out to the taxiway. They rolled out and after receiving clearance, rotated skywards. Cassandra started briefing everyone on everything she knew. She may have been a figurehead, but she kept aware of everything 'Slimy' was doing- well, almost everything. 'Also,' she thought, 'everyone. I don't know how I missed this.'

She knew about the offering to Wondra Industries and that it was in San Diego. But she was under the impression that that was being handled by the Acquisitions Department. Not Corporate. Gene was supposed to be in New York, talking to the Germans. Something stunk.

**********************************************************************************************************

They landed in San Diego and picked up the rentals. Next stop, Sharp Memorial Hospital. It so happened that Gene was taken to the same hospital.

Coincidence?? I think not.

Karma?? You be the judge. Cassandra, her son, and Lyle Ferguson stormed into the lobby and, after being directed to the ICU, marched to the elevators. They got off on the fifth floor and moved to ICU. They were met by a very concerned-looking nurse.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm Cassandra Carmichael. My daughter is Carol Miller. I understand she's been admitted here?" Cassandra was in Mom mode, and feeling a little scared.

With that, Marilyn stepped up and introduced herself to Cassie.

"I'm Marilyn Standish. We spoke on the phone. I came here with your husband and Carol. I was at the party when all this happened, and I ........"

Cassandra immediately flipped from Mom mode to CEO mode.

"And who exactly are you, and what is your position in this fiasco? And where is my son-in-law??"

"Well, I am Executive Assistant to the Managing Partners of Wondra, Industries, not that it is of interest to you. I understand you are upset with Carol's injury, but I think you would be as concerned with your husband's, also. He appears to have had a stroke, and is presently in...."

She didn't get any farther. Cassandra turned loose on Marilyn as she got up in her face, and unloaded.

"LOOK, MISSY, I am the CEO and owner of Dexter Industrial, and my soon-to-be ex-fucking husband is the absolute least of my worries right now."

James looked at the ceiling and put his arm around his mother.

"Steady, Mom. Let's find Carol and sort this out first."

Cassandra took a breath, smiled at her son, and squeezed his arm.

Marilyn gulped and quailed, and her stomach flipped as she almost lost her lunch. 'OHH, SHIT!' she thought.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carmichael. We thought your husband was in control. Of the company, I mean. Or of everything. I....."

"Shut up. Where's the doctor in charge? And WHERE IS STUART??"

Marilyn looked around for a hole to crawl into. Nope, still in the hospital. With that, a young doctor approached, drawn by the altercation that was brewing.

"Please, folks, simmer down, or I'll call security."

James intervened.

"I AM security." The doctor didn't know he wasn't Hospital security, but James just needed an edge, and he got it.

"This is Mrs. Cassandra Carmichael. Her daughter, Mrs. Carol Miller, was brought in with a 'concussion', supposedly, and as we understand it, is in a 'coma'. But WE can't find her, and no one is helping us."

"I'm sorry, sir. I am Doctor Armitrage. I am the physician in charge of this unit, and I happen to be Mrs. Miller's doctor. She is resting comfortably, and we have her mildly sedated, in addition to being in a coma. Her brain swelling was moderate, and is already going down." He turned to Cassandra and took her hands in his.

"She is resting comfortably and is making great strides to recovering. I anticipate she will start to come out of her coma soon."

Cassandra sighed and relaxed.

"Thank you, doctor. May we see her?"

"Certainly, but only briefly. She is resting." He turned and summoned a nurse.

"Please take these people to see Mrs. Miller, Katheryn."

"Certainly, doctor. This way, please." She held her gaze on James's very fit form as they turned down the corridor. 'I need to find out where HE works!' she thought to herself.

The doctor was talking to Cassandra.

"After you see your daughter, we'll take you to see your husband. He is in a bad way."

'Not yet, he isn't, but he will be,' thought Cassandra. James grinned, almost like he could read his mother's mind.

"I have no interest in seeing my husband right now, doctor."

Caught unawares, the doctor hesitated and said, "Uhh, certainly, Madam."

Meanwhile, Lyle was talking to the hospital admissions people, and arranging things for his client, and close personal friend.

'This is not going to be pretty,' he mused. Her 'husband' was declared persona non grata (not that it meant anything legally, but it cut him off from the company and the family) and he set up care for Carol. No one had been able to contact her husband, so there was no record of any insurance.

Cassandra and James stood staring at Carol's unconscious form.

"My poor baby." She turned and let loose.

"What the hell happened? Who is responsible for this??"

About that time, William Stevens, Arnie Douche, and Joseph Travis walked up to the viewing window and made the mistake of ignoring Cassandra and talking to Marilyn.

"How is our girl doing? And what's the status of Gene? Any word on his condition, any word at all? We can only hold off the Chinese for so long. The Board meeting is scheduled for a week from yesterday, at 10:00 a.m.. And where the fuck is Miller? The asshole was supposed to be at the party with Linda Blessing, but when the shitstorm started, they were nowhere to be found. Ohh, this is a disaster!!"

Cassandra took it all in. So, somehow or other, these pricks were involved with her daughter and her husband. The four of them, if she was understanding the conversation. She kept her own council, but her son stepped up.

"Excuse me. I'm Carol's brother, James Wade. I'd like to know what's going on if you don't mind!" He shot his mother a look, but she was just gathering information and was willing to let her son, with his imposing physique and presence, run point. So she subtly nodded to him and kept silent.

Marilyn was trying desperately to stop the conversation, but the typical dismissive attitude of the cretins running the company took no notice of her.

"Look, Mister Wade, your sister was working for our company, and this is all a terrible mistake."

"Working for your company? MY SISTER WAS A SCHOOL TEACHER! AND WHERE THE FUCK IS HER HUSBAND??"

"Now look, sir, there is no reason to be upset. Your brother-in-law works for us, and his wife was just giving us a hand with some company negotiations," stuttered Arnie. "Someone got their wires crossed, and your sister was 'mistakenly' caught up in this 'terrible situation'. We're terribly sorry for all this."

Cassandra took it all in as her son more or less controlled the conversation and plumbed for info.

"Terrible situation? What terrible situation? And what was the mistake made, and by whom? What was she doing for her husband's company?? AND WHERE THE FUCK IS STUART???".

With that, Lyle Ferguson walked up, excusing himself to get into the cluster of people. Joseph Travis bowed up and said, "Hey, buddy, this a private discussion. We are trying to console some friends here."

"That's alright, I'm ......." started Lyle. But James jumped in.

"A friend of the family. Mr. Ferguson came with my mother and me to comfort us in this terrible scenario." He gazed at Lyle and subtly shook his head. Lyle shifted his eyes to Cassandra and was rewarded with a wink.

'She should be running this company,' Lyle thought.

"Well, where is Jessica's, uhh, I mean Carol's mother? Is that you, madam??", William spoke up, addressing Cassandra for the first time.

Cassandra smirked as Marilyn paled and sunk to a chair, with her head in her hands. She walked away from the ICU window and addressed the three individuals representing the 'brain trust' of Wondra Industries.

"I am. My daughter is lying in that bed, in a comma, unconscious, and I am curious as to how she got that way. What is this job she was working on for you 'gentlemen'? AND WHERE THE HELL IS HER HUSBAND??"

The three men traded looks but none of them had any clue. Marilyn suddenly jumped up and raced over to William and whispered in his ear for several seconds. He paled, nodded his head and she immediately left, pulling her phone to her ear and speaking.

Now James had no clue where his brother-in-law could be, but he knew where they lived. He leaned over to his mother and whispered, 'I'm going to their apartment. I'll stay in touch.' She nodded and turned back to the 'jerks' in front of her.

Now, to quote a popular late-night talk show host,-

'MEANWHILE......'

Marilyn didn't know where Stuart and Carol lived. But she did know where Linda Blessing lived. So she called a couple of the security-types from the company and told them to go to Linda's place, and get Stuart and hustle his ass to the hospital. James was about five or so minutes ahead of them, but headed in the opposite way, to the couple's condo. The security types went to Linda's apartment and walked up to the door. They knocked and were answered by the attractive redhead, dressed in a yoga outfit, 'sweating to the oldies' as they say.

ALONE!

When they had arrived, went inside, and closed the door behind themselves, Linda's dress hit the floor and she spun to face Stuart and kicked off her heels.

"Now, let's see if we can forget about what your 'wife' is doing, and going to do, okay??"

As soon as Linda said this, Stuart got a bad case of the 'cold feet' and 'second thoughts', panicked as he looked down and saw his wedding ring still on his finger, and bolted, yelling over his shoulder that he couldn't go through with this. Stunned, Linda stood there basically naked except for her g-string panties and fumed. She had never been turned down like this before. Cursing and swearing, she spun around, went to her bedroom, and got dressed in her workout clothes. She was exercising to rock music when the security guys showed up.

Now while all this was going on, James was rolling up on Stuart's and Carol's apartment. Condominium, actually. He parked and went up to the porch. He knocked. No answer. The door wasn't locked but it was closed, so he opened it and went in.

His brother-in-law was passed out on the couch, with a mostly empty bourbon bottle on the floor.

'J. W. Dant. Huh, not too bad. Hope there wasn't too much left when he started drinking,' James thought. He reached down and shook Stuart. Stuart rolled his head, opened his eyes a crack, and smiled.

"JAMES!! HOW YOU DOIN', BUD!!," he slurred.

'Oh, great,' James thought.

"Come on, Stu, let's get you up and cleaned up." As he hefted Stuart up, he tossed his lunch all over everything. He narrowly missed decorating James, but the same could not be said for the couch, rug, coffee table, and his own clothes. 'Shit', muttered James.

He manhandled Stu into the shower, thrust him in, and turned on the water. The cold spray hit him and immediately went red hot, full blast. Stuart was spluttering, gasping, and choking, and in an instant, he was gasping.

'College boys!', James muttered. He really liked his brother-in-law, but he had a bad feeling about this.

After a bit, he yelled through the roar of water and steam cloud, "Get your clothes off and get cleaned up. NOW!" James had lapsed into his command voice, as, shaking his head, he went to get clean clothes for Stu. Jeans, T-shirt, skivvies, and deck shoes. He went to the kitchen and made a Keurig cup of coffee. He returned to see a somewhat sober Stuart, drying himself, standing in a pile of water-logged clothes. He was somewhat sober, but definitely hungover. He handed the cup of coffee to him, telling him 'Drink it.' Stu looked at it and said, "I like it with cream and sugar, maybe some French Vanilla, and...."