Chapter Eleven

   "I want to see your father," Susan said, her voice stronger now.  "And
I'm so thirsty I feel like I might turn to dust and blow away."

   Jennifer blinked.  Her face still felt hot from blushing when she
realized her mother had actually HEARD about the masturbation and trying to
get Uncle Bob into bed.  But her mother's reaction threw her for a loop.

   She jumped up.  "I'll g-g-go g-g-get a nurse!" she yipped.

   Wanting to see her husband seemed like an eminently reasonable and
simple request, to Susan.  Jennifer agreed.  But hospitals don't
necessarily operate in ways that most people would define as either simple
or reasonable.  Perhaps it's relative.

   It wasn't that the nurses didn't WANT Susan to be able to see and talk
to Don.  It was just that Susan was still in ICU and Don wasn't.  They were
on separate floors, and Susan wasn't in the kind of bed that you can just
push down hallways and into elevators.  And Don's bed was festooned with
rods and cords and cranks and pulleys, all designed to immobilize his leg.

   Jennifer, unable to make any headway in granting her mother's wish
--though she was able to convince a nurse to give her mother some water
--went looking for Bob, who she was sure would be able to make things all
right.

   And that was when she found out from her father that Bob had left and
was going back to Atlanta, where he wouldn't represent a danger to poor,
innocent Jennifer.  = Two hospital security officers hurried down the
hallway toward the sounds of screaming.  A nurse caught up with them,
jogging.  She had a syringe in her hand, with a pink plastic cap over the
needle.

   "I have a sedative here!" the nurse panted.

   "Won't need it," one guard almost shouted.  He waved a pair of handcuffs
in her face, already out of the leather carrier he'd never removed them
from before now.  At least he'd never removed them for official reasons. 
"We can handle it." They saw three nurses huddled together in front of the
door to the room they'd been dispatched to.

   The screaming suddenly stopped and a young woman wearing a black
motorcycle jacket came storming out of the room.  The three nurses
scattered as the biker babe stomped between them.  She ignored the two
guards and the nurse with the syringe as she stalked by them, muttering
under her breath.

   They entered the room to find only two patients in it.  The first was an
old man, sitting up in bed, who had watched, fascinated, as the good
looking girl who stuttered suddenly stopped stuttering and raked her father
over the coals like a Marine drill instructor talking to a raw recruit who
had dropped his rifle.  The other was the girl's father, though they didn't
know that at that moment.

   It took them only a minute and a half to realize that their presence was
no longer needed.  They'd missed the whole incident, and the girl who had
caused the uproar...the one who had stalked by them...was gone.  =
Jennifer, whose body was enjoying the benefits, if you can call it that, of
a number of chemicals dancing through her bloodstream, exited the front
doors of the hospital and suddenly jerked to a halt.

   She looked around helplessly, not knowing what to do.  She knew where
the motel was, but had no way of getting there.  With a stab of regret, she
realized she had wasted precious time by yelling at her father.  What if he
was already gone?  She knew how quickly he could move when he was
motivated.

   More adrenaline was added to the mixture coursing through her body.

   She transitioned from standing to running as though a sprinter's
starting blocks had been at her disposal.  = Bob's gear was packed and
strapped onto the bike.  He'd moved everything he wasn't taking into
Jennifer's room.  He couldn't find the keycard to that room anywhere, and
hoped she had it with her.

   Now he was waiting, while a couple who had to be octogenarians
negotiated with the desk clerk to pay for their room.  The man seemed to
have a whole list of possible discounts that might apply to them, and was
going through his billfold pulling out cards.

   "How about AAA?" wheezed the old man.  "Do we get a discount for being
in AAA?" He held out a card to the desk clerk.

   Bob tapped the toe of his riding boot on the floor.

   "Give him our AARP card, Henry," urged the man's wife.

   "I'm pretty sure I've given you as low a rate as I can," said the desk
clerk.

   Finally the couple was finished.  They'd paid in cash, which had seemed
to take forever, as the clerk had to make change and count it out twice. 
Then the old man carefully put the bills in his billfold and pulled out a
coin purse to drop the coins into.

   Bob explained the change in arrangements to the clerk, who then had to
navigate through four different computer screens to close one room out,
while leaving the other one booked.  He seemed relieved when Bob handed him
a credit card.

   "Do you want me to charge this now, or wait until she clears the room?"
asked the clerk.  He frowned.  "Maybe I should charge you for the room
you're vacating now and just hold the card number for when she leaves."

   "Whatever," Bob huffed impatiently.  "I just want her taken care of, OK?
I don't want her to have to worry about anything."

   Then Bob wanted to leave some cash for Jennifer in the hotel safe, with
instructions to give it to her the next time they saw her.  That ended up
being an absurdly complicated task as well, which involved counting the
money three times and having Bob sign across the seal of the envelope the
money was put into.

   By the time Bob walked out to the parking lot to get on the bike, he'd
been gone from the hospital for almost an hour.

   Had there not been cross traffic, requiring Bob to stop at the entrance
to the motel parking lot, it might have been tragic.  Jennifer saw him,
from half a block away.  Her lungs were burning and she felt like she might
fall flat on her face at any second.

   But there WAS traffic, and Bob DID have to stop.  It also required him
looking both ways repeatedly, before he could release the clutch lever and
move onto the street.  It was the third time he looked to his right that he
saw her running toward him.

   To his credit, Bob never thought about pretending not to see her and
just taking off.  She was running with that wobbly kind of gait that
runners have at the end of a race where they use every last erg of energy
to cross the finish line, before stumbling around and sometimes flopping on
the ground.  Reason told him she knew he was leaving, and that she was here
because of that.  He pulled a U turn in the entrance and put the bike in a
parking space.  He sat there, lifting his left foot to toe the tranny into
neutral so he could release the clutch lever while he waited for her.

   She arrived, stumbling so much that Bob was afraid she'd go down.  Her
mouth was wide open and all she could concentrate on, initially, was
dragging in breaths.  One hand reached to grip the shoulder of his jacket
and she held on, leaning into him while her head drooped.  While he waited
for her to catch her breath, he began thinking of how he'd phrase his
goodbye.  He was therefore surprised, to say the least, when her first
gasping words were "Shut the fuck up!"

   "Say what?" he asked, confused.

   "I k-know," she gasped, "what y-you're," she panted "g-g-going to
s-s-say."

   "Well then you know it makes sense," he said.

   "I s-s-said shut th-th-the f-f-fuck up!"

   He couldn't help but smile.  Even though she had blossomed so much in
the last week, she was still so...so Jennifer!  She reached for the key and
flipped it off.  The bike went suddenly still.

   "Y-you're n-n-not l-leaving!" she panted.

   "I have to, Jen," he said gently.

   "Says who?" she asked belligerently.

   "Says your father, for one," said Bob.  "And we both know he's right."

   Jennifer was in the middle of another rant that was surprisingly similar
to the one she'd delivered in the hospital, when a patrol car pulled into
the entrance of the motel parking lot and stopped.  The window rolled down
and a crisp young man looked out at the man on the motorcycle and the woman
standing beside it, screaming.

   "Is there a problem?" he asked officially.

   "No problem," said Bob, swiveling his head to face the man.

   "YES, THERE'S A PROBLEM!" screamed Jennifer.  "HE R-R-RAPED ME!" = Six
hours later Bob lifted his head from where it had been cradled in his hands
as he heard the big lock clank.  The cell door opened and a man in uniform
looked at Bob.

   "You can go now," he said.  "It's all cleared up.  We talked to the
girl's parents, and she recanted her accusation."

   "I told you," said Bob.  "Didn't I tell you?"

   "We had to check it out, man," said the officer, unapologetic.

   "Yeah," said Bob, disgusted.

   "Follow me and you'll get your personal belongings back.  There's a
little paperwork to do and then you're out of here." The officer seemed
disinterested, now that the excitement was over.

   A woman, also in uniform, dumped a manila envelope onto the counter and
shoved a form at Bob.  "Sign there," she said, pointing to an X beside a
blank line.

   "Where's the key to my bike?" asked Bob, gathering up his things.

   "There wasn't any key on you when you were arrested," said the woman.

   "It was in the ignition of the bike!" Bob was obviously upset.  "What if
somebody stole it?"

   "I wouldn't know about that." she said.  "If it's gone, you can file a
stolen vehicle report."

   "Thanks so much!" Bob said, acid in his voice.

   "Look, sir," she said, a flush on her face, "I'm just doing my job
here."

   "I feel so well protected," said Bob, still angry.

   "Is that everything that was taken from you when you were arrested?"
asked the woman icily.

   Bob scribbled on the form and put his things back in his pockets,
ignoring the woman.  He looked around, and the woman pointed.

   "That way is out," she said, as if she hated having to give him the
information.

   "And how am I supposed to get anywhere?" he asked, disgusted.

   "I don't know, sir," said the woman.  She seemed pleased that he was
stranded.  = Bob left the police station with the intent to walk back to
the motel.  He hadn't paid that much attention to how they'd gotten to the
station - he'd had other things on his mind during the short ride -- but he
remembered some landmarks and was pretty sure he could find the motel
again.

   That became superfluous when he saw Jennifer sitting on the bike,
waiting for him.  When she saw him, she reached, turned the key that had so
recently been the center of attention, and thumbed the bike into a throaty
roar.  He didn't know what to think.

   He walked up to her.

   "G-get on!" she shouted.

   "It's MY bike!" he shouted back.

   "G-get ON!" she yelled.

   "This is CRAZY!" he roared.

   Her right wrist dropped and the motor revved.  The bike shot forward
five feet and then stopped.  She looked over her shoulder at him.  She
didn't have to say anything this time.

   Bob walked toward the bike.  The extra helmet was perched on top of the
sissy bar, but he ignored it.  He wanted to snatch her off the bike and
paddle her butt, but he knew if he tried she'd just take off.  He stepped
on the left foot peg, and the bike leaned as her left leg struggled to
compensate for the weight.

   "You are in SO much trouble!" he growled as he settled into the queen
seat and put his arms around her.

   Then his hands gripped at her shirt as the bike suddenly shot forward. =
Bob had to admit she was a lot better than he though she'd be.  She went
through the gears smoothly, like she'd been riding for years, and leaned
into the turns the same way.  He'd expected to wince as she abused his
machine, but there was no jerking.  He became aware of his groin almost
immediately as, for the first time, he felt the effect of the clitty
whizzer on his own genitals.  And, for the first time, he realized how
truly underhanded it had been to design the bike that way.

   He was thinking about that when her left hand reached for his left hand,
which was draped across her abdomen, and lifted it to cover her left
breast. == Bob did a lot of thinking on that short trip.  Her unexpected
skill at operating the bike was the first thing he thought about, in a
clinical kind of way.  She had obviously paid more attention to what he was
doing than he would have thought.  But all that was pushed aside when she
made it very clear that she wanted his hand touching her in an intimate
way.

   He'd already come to terms with her accusation, while he sat in the
slammer.  He was well aware that her blurted allegation had simply been her
way of making sure he couldn't go anywhere.  It had been stupid, childish,
and brilliant all at the same time.  It had also made it impossible to miss
that she was completely intent on keeping him there with her.

   Now he wondered if putting his hand on what felt like a very warm and
unfettered breast was her way of trying to apologize.  That was silly, if
it was her intent.  He already knew how she was going to apologize to him,
and it involved her lying across his lap with her butt bare while he tanned
it but good.

   Now, though, he was out of jail and none of the nightmare possibilities
involving an overzealous law enforcement organization had come to pass, and
things could be discussed more calmly.  In one sense, her placement of his
hand brought relief, because at least she was trying to act in a manner
that SHE thought was normal.  That was crazy, but it was comfortable crazy.

   In a moment of impish impulse he slid his hand down to her stomach
again. She was in a turn, so she couldn't use her left hand to put his
back. What she obviously didn't expect was for him to slip his hand under
the bottom of the shirt and slide it up to cup her naked breast inside the
shirt.  He tweaked her nipple for good measure.

   He felt her shudder briefly, and then she leaned back, as if to say,
"That's more like it."

   Five minutes later she pulled into the hospital parking lot.

   She shut it down and, as he had often done, stabilized the bike while he
got off.  He stood, waiting as she got off and removed her helmet.  She
shook out her platinum locks, not quite looking at him.

   "S-sorry," she said softly in the sudden silence.

   "We'll talk about that later," he said.  "Why did you bring me here?"

   "M-m-mommy w-w-wants to t-talk t-to y-y-you."

   "Susan?  She's awake?"

   "Uh huh." Something in her voice sounded guarded, like she was nervous.

   "That's great!" said Bob as they started walking toward the entrance of
the hospital.  "How is she?"

   "Sh-sh-she's in p-pain.  Sh-she w-w-wanted to s-s-see D-daddy and they
w-w-wouldn't l-let her.  Sh-sh-she g-got m-m-mad." Much more than that had
gone on since Bob had left, but she left it unsaid.  He'd probably find out
about it soon enough.

   A security guard approached and stood in their way.

   "Ma'am," he said, his voice level.  "I trust there will be no more
trouble?"

   Bob's eyebrows rose and he looked at Jennifer.  She was blushing.

   "N-n-no t-trouble," she said.

   "Good, because I don't want to have to throw you out.  I mean with that
scene you caused, and the police coming here and all that...well, we can't
have that kind of thing disturbing the patients." The man looked unsure as
to whether or not to let them pass.  He glanced at Bob, who stuck his hands
in his pockets.  He didn't know what was going on, but he resolved to stay
out of it.  This girl was getting too big for her britches, and if there
were consequences to whatever she'd done...well...maybe she needed to face
them.

   "I w-w-won't c-cause any m-m-more p-p-problems," Jennifer said meekly.

   The man finally stepped aside, and they got on the elevator.  Bob pushed
the button for the third floor, where the ICU was located.

   "What else did you do?" asked Bob.

   "N-n-nothing," she said.

   "Well it doesn't sound like nothing," he said darkly.  She turned,
suddenly, to face him.

   "D-d-do y-you hate m-m-me?" There was anguish on her face.

   Bob was surprised how he could relish the thought of getting that naked
bottom exposed, so he could slap it bright red, and at the same time feel
his heart go out to her in her obvious distress.

   "No," he said.  "Of course not.  Believe it or not, I'm trying to do
what I think is best for you."

   "Th-that's wh-wh-what M-m-mom said." She looked dejected.  "I j-j-just
c-c-couldn't s-stand the th-th-thought of y-y-ou l-l-leaving." She stepped
closer.  "I n-n-need y-you."

   They were still hugging each other as the elevator doors opened.  They
had stepped out before either of them realized the car had stopped on the
second floor.  Some people got on and the doors closed behind them.

   They were waiting for the car to return when they saw a gurney being
pushed toward them.  The old man who had been Don's roommate was on the
gurney.  He lifted his head and looked at the pair.

   "I'm gonna miss all the excitement," he said, grinning.  "This has been
the best hospital stay I ever had." Bob smiled at him.  "I didn't want to
leave, but they wanted to put your mother in Don's room, so I said it was
OK to put me somewhere else.  I sure am gonna miss all the entertainment,
though."

   "Th-th-they m-moved M-m-mommy d-down here?" asked Jennifer excitedly.

   "They just brung her in as they was taking me out," said the old man. 
"She looks like she's had a rough go of it, too.  You're lucky they made it
through, I'm thinkin'.  You be nice to your daddy, young woman.  It ain't
respectful to yell at your elders, you know." His continued grin took the
barb out of his admonition.  He looked over at Bob.  "They's already
arguin' 'bout you, young feller.  You might want to just lay low for a
little while longer."

   "Great," said Bob dryly.  "I tried to leave, but it didn't work out so
well."

   The old man chortled.  "I never had so much fun in my life as hearing
them cops talkin' to Don 'bout you and this pretty little filly here.  I
thought he was going to try to climb out of that bed, until she admitted
she'd stretched the truth a mite."

   The orderly pushing the gurney said they had to move on, and the old man
waved as he was taken down the hallway to his new room.  Jennifer was eager
to get to her parents' room.  Bob pulled her to a sudden halt, though.

   "What's this I hear about you having a car?" he asked.

   Jennifer blinked and her mouth fell open.

   "I comp-p-pletely f-f-forgot!" she gasped.  "I was s-s-so worried about
M-mommy and D-d-daddy that I j-j-just forg-g-ot!  It's in th-th-the garage,
b-b-back home!"

   "How can a teenager just forget about her first car?" said Bob.  "I mean
there's just something un-American about that!  Your father thinks I knew
about it and brought you here on the Babe Bike intentionally."

   "Well y-y-you d-d-didn't," she said, as if that was the end of the
conversation and nothing else needed to be said.  "Now, c-c-come on! 
M-mommy's in th-there!"

   Bob wondered if he should stay outside, but had no choice as Jennifer
took his hand and dragged him into the room.  They were faced with a stern
nurse as they entered.

   "If there is ANY disturbance, I'll have you removed," she said firmly.
"Family or not, I don't care.  Is that understood?"

   Jennifer nodded frantically.  Bob just stood there.

   "In fact, you may only stay ten minutes.  These patients need rest.  If
this visit goes well, you may return at NORMAL visiting hours.  Are we
clear?"

   "Yes ma'am," said Bob, while Jennifer nodded some more.

   "All right then," said the nurse.  She started toward the door and Bob
had to move to one side to let her pass.  Two other nurses were working on
Susan's side of the room, hooking wires up and fiddling with an IV unit. 
Susan's head was turned toward the visitors.  Don's bed was cranked up a
few degrees at the head, and he was looking at them, too.  He was frowning.

   "What are you doing here?" he asked, looking at Bob.

   "I told Jennifer to go get him and bring him here," said Susan.

   "Why on earth would you do that?" asked Don.

   "She had to get him out of Jail, Don," said Susan, clearly exasperated.
"She had his motorcycle.  What was he supposed to do?"

   "He's a very inventive man," said Don.  "He would have done just fine."

   Susan looked at Bob.  "We want you to stay here, with Jennifer."

   "When did we make THAT decision?!" complained Don.

   "When we decided that Jennifer is an adult now," said Susan.  "That's
when."

   "It wasn't adult to claim that he raped her!" said Don.  He blinked.

   "Whose side are you on?" asked Susan sweetly.

   "Jennifer's!" he blustered.

   Susan turned her head as far towards Don as she could.  "Well I know
what she wants, and she wants Bob to stay.  Now, I'm tired.  I'd like to
get some rest and the last thing we need is for our daughter and your best
friend to get banned from coming to see us.  So we're done talking about
this." She looked over at Jennifer and Bob.  "You two run along now.  You
can come back later, when Don is feeling better and isn't so grouchy."

   Jennifer was blinking her eyes rapidly and she reached up with both
hands and knuckled them.  Then she went to her mother's bed and leaned
over.

   "Th-thank you," she whispered.

   "We'll talk about this later," said Susan.  "Just remember, Bob has
feelings, too.  You two need to talk about things, instead of just going
off on a wild tangent."

   "Ok-k-kay," sniffed Jennifer.  She turned and went to her father, who
was scowling.  He looked at Bob.

   "I expect you to behave yourself with my little girl!" he growled.

   Jennifer put the tip of her forefinger against his lips.

   "I l-love you, D-d-daddy," she said softly.  "B-b-but you n-n-need to
b-b-butt out." She kissed him on the forehead.

   "No I don't," he insisted.  "You may be eighteen, but you're still my
daughter, and somebody needs to protect you from men who try to take
advantage of you."

   Jennifer bristled.  "B-b-bob d-d-didn't try t-t-to t-t-take
adv-v-vantage of m-me!"

   "He brought you here on that motorcycle instead of driving you here in
your car!" snapped Don.

   "Daddy!" Jennifer snapped back.  "B-B-Bob D-D-DIDN'T know I ha-had a
c-c-car, because I d-d-didn't TELL him I ha-had a c-car.  When I f-f-found
out y-y-you and M-M-Mommy were h-hurt, I c-c-called B-Bob, because I
d-d-didn't know wh-what to d-d-do and I knew he w-w-would help m-me.  I was
s-s-so scared y-y-you w-were going to d-d-die.  I forg-g-got all ab-b-bout
the B-b-bug.  I'd only d-d-driven it three t-t-times bef-f-ore those
p-p-people c-called looking f-f-for the n-n-next of k-kin of my
p-p-parents!"

   He gaped.  "You FORGOT you had a car?  You're only eighteen!  That was
your first car!  Your mother picked it out for you herself!  You can't just
forget you have it.  That's un-American!"

   Jennifer smiled.  "Th-th-that's what B-B-Bob said, t-too.  Y-y-you still
n-need to b-b-butt out."

   She said, "I l-l-love you," again and then, before Don could say
anything more, the young woman turned and manhandled Bob, spinning him
around and pushing him out the door.

   "What the hell just happened?" asked Bob, as she took his arm and pulled
him toward the elevator.

   "I f-f-fixed it with D-daddy...about my c-c-car," she said.

   "No...I mean about your mother asking me to stay."

   "Oh...that.  I t-t-told M-mom ev-v-veryth-th-ing," said Jennifer.

   "Everything?" moaned Bob.

   "I th-th-thought sh-she was s-s-still as-sleep," said the girl. 
"B-b-but sh-she heard ev-v-verything."

   "How much everything?" he asked.

   Jennifer stared into his face.  "All of i-it."

   "Us in bed together, too?" Bob asked, feeling weak in the knees.

   "N-n-naked," she sighed.

   "And she still wants me to stay?" Bob was astonished.

   Jennifer came to an abrupt halt and turned him to face her.
   "I w-w-want you to stay," she corrected him.
