Last Laugh

by Jean Lauzier

Momma always said if you had a sad story, nice ass and knew how to use them both you could get anything you wanted. She was going to have to thank momma for that bit of advice sometime. Sandy rolled over and stretched. Satin sheets on bare skin made her want to purr. With another stretch she slid from beneath the covers and looked down at the snoring man. Not even a stir, just like the first time she got up this morning. He snorted and she stifled a laugh. Men, she thought. What pigs. She picked up her clothes strewn around the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom. Closing the door with her foot, she tossed them into the hamper, reached into the shower and turned the knobs. Water sprayed against the shower walls and steam started to rise. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror, paused then ran a hand through her hair. She leaned in closer to the mirror. "Damn, almost time to color enhance again. Can't have any roots showing." Sandy grabbed a towel from the shelf, hung it on the hanger next to the shower door and stepped under the water.

Two hours later Sandy leaned on the deck railing and watched Brad push the mower across the manicured lawn. It keeps me young and fit he said. Yeah right...whatever you say studmuffin. She laughed at the memory of him flexing his biceps and sucking in his gut. Men, can't live with them and well....hard to kill them and get away with it.

Brad paused, wiped his forehead on his sleeve and looked toward her. She smiled and waved, then motioned for him to come to the deck. He released the mower handle and the engine shut itself off.

"Time for a break hon. I don't want you to over do on our one month anniversary. Besides, I want to give you your gift." She pulled out a chair from the matching table, patted the back cushion. "You sit right here and I'll bring you something nice and cool to drink." Sandy kissed the top of his head and patted his shoulder. "I'll be right back."

In the kitchen Sandy poured tea over ice in a tall crystal glass. Coming to the door, she looked at Brad sitting with his back to her and wrinkled her nose. She straightened her shoulders, stepped out onto the deck and pulled the door closed behind her. With a smile she approached him, placed one hand on his shoulder and lightly ran the sweating glass of iced tea across the back of his neck.

"Mmmmmmm...feels good babe. You know what I like don't you." He reached up, took her free hand and kissed the palm.

"Here you go, this should cool you off." Sandy set the glass in front of him and ran both arms around his neck. She pressed up against his back, leaned down and blew in his ear. Her fingers unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and she slid one hand down his chest. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of sweat and nibbled on his earlobe.

"That's not cooling me off babe."

"I have something special for you. But you have to close your eyes." She kissed the top of his head, the back of his neck, the top of his shoulder.

"Let me have it babe." He reached up for her. She nipped his neck. "Oh yeah, I like it rough."

She grimaced. "Now you've been a bad boy. You have to sit on your hands." She kissed his neck again watching as he placed his hands under his thighs. She nibbled on his neck teasing him. "Are you ready now?"

"Oh yeah, I'm so ready."

"Are your eyes closed nice and tight?" She played with the collar of his shirt, kissed the back of his neck.

"Can't see a thing babe." He smiled, "And see, no hands."

Sandy reached down to the potted plant next to here, picked up a jar hidden in the leaves and gave it a shake. She kissed the back of his neck again, whispered in his ear. "Here it comes studmuffin." She pulled his collar toward her, flipped the lid off the jar and emptied it down his back then stepped away from him.

Brad sat for a second then his eyes flew open. "What the..." He sprang out of the chair with a yelp. Sandy stood back and watched him fumble with the buttons on his shirt. He yelped again. "Get my kit baby," he started to wheeze. "Please babe, I'm allergic." He clutched his chest and collapsed back into the chair.

Sandy turned to the door, twisted the knob. "Gee darlin', it's locked. Now how did that happen?" She reached above the door, ran her hand along the molding and found the spare key hidden there. "I'm so upset. I can't find the keyhole." She jabbed the key in the general direction of the keyhole several times. "There, I have it finally." She looked back at Brad. His hands clutched his throat, his eyes were almost swollen shut. His breath came in ragged wheezes. She opened the door, strolled to the bedroom and pulled out the nightstand drawer. The EpiPen auto injector kit rested neatly inside the drawer. She reached in, picked it up. "Now, how do you work this thing? Too bad he never showed me, I'll have to read the directions." Heading back to the deck she passed the bathroom and paused. "Better wash my hands first...don't want to get any germs on this thing."

Sandy walked back into the kitchen and out onto the deck. Brad lay on the wooden floor in the fetal position. A tremor shook his body, a final breath escaped. She knelt down next to him, felt for a pulse. A smile crossed her face while she held his lifeless wrist. "Sorry it took me so long honey..." She opened the kit, read the instructions then injected him in the thigh. "Too bad it's too late for this to do any good."

Three weeks later Sandy sat in the oversized leather chair across from a large polished desk. Today's the big day! Stupid lawyer, don't know why we had to wait so long to read the will. Everyone knows the wife automatically gets what belongs to the husband. The door opened and Mr. Johnson walked in with a manila folder. He took his seat behind the desk and laid the open folder on it. She fought a smile as he gazed at the contents of the file.

Mr. Johnson cleared his throat and looked up at Sandy . She leaned forward, hands clasped tight in her lap.

"Your husband was living off a trust fund set up for him by his son Brian. The whole estate belongs to Brian." He slid a check across the desk. "I convinced him to give you the balance of Brad's checking account."

Sandy picked up the check. Fifteen forty-two oh seven? "But, but...I can't live on that. What am I supposed to do?"

Mr. Johnson slid another piece of paper toward her, a pen rested on top. "Sign this please."

"What is it?" She picked up the pen, dropped it...picked it up again. She scrawled her name next to the red X.

"This is to certify you received your check and to inform you that you have thirty days to vacate the premise. You may take only what you brought with you into the marriage and any gift Brad bought specifically for you." He handed her another paper. "This is a list of all the household furnishings, jewelry and paintings. You may take none of these as they belong to Brad. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered. Guess momma was wrong after all.