Life in Whoopees Read online

  A Life in Whoopees

  Dean Wesley Smith

  A Life in Whoopees

  Copyright © 2013 by Dean Wesley Smith

  Published by WMG Publishing

  Cover Design copyright © 2013 WMG Publishing

  Cover photo copyright © 2013 Roland Stollner/Dreamstime

  Smashwords Edition

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  My name is Bill Wallace, I’m seventy-two years old, and I feel like one of the lucky people in life. I had a good marriage, great children and grandchildren, a good career. And I had five whoopee moments.

  I hear some people never even have one.

  My First Whoop

  I was ten. It was the last day of school before Christmas, and it was snowing lightly outside our family house in Madison, Wisconsin. As I came through the door, the warmth of the house hit me in the face, combined with the fantastic smell of Mom baking Christmas cookies.

  “Yes!” I shouted. I dropped my backpack on the hall table and headed toward the kitchen.

  “Billy!” my mom shouted from the kitchen. “Take off your boots at the door.”

  I stopped, yanked off my boots and went sliding in my stocking feet on the hardwood floors to get a cookie.

  That Christmas turned out to be the best Christmas ever, since Grandma and Grandpa were there, Dad was still living at home, and Mom seemed happy. None of that would ever happen again, so I still look back at that Christmas as the best ever.

  My Second Whoop

  Debbie pushed me away and slid back across the front seat of the car. She was clearly breathing hard and as excited as I was.

  We had parked on a canal road a good four miles outside of town. The only thing close was a farmer’s house a half mile away. I still had the car radio on, and the light from it and the moon through the steamed-up windows was enough for me to see Debbie’s face.

  Her short brown hair was messed up slightly, and her cheeks were red.

  Debbie and I were both sophomores in high school and had been sort of hanging out for a month or so together. It was common knowledge that we were together, and we went out on sort-of dates a lot, but that was about as far as it had gotten.

  Twice after I had gotten my drivers license, we had parked out here on the canal bank, and both times all we had done was kissed. I was hoping tonight might be a little different, but so far it was turning out to be the same.

  The seat between us was one of those bench seats that only Dodges and pick-up trucks had during the seventies. Luckily my mom had bought a Dodge.

  “Billy, you promise you won’t tell anyone we’re parking?”

  “Who am I going to tell?” I asked. “Of course I promise. What happens here, what we talk about here, is just between you and me.”

  She looked at me for a long time, but of course, in that situation, any amount of time seemed long. Then, in a quick motion, she slipped her sweater over her head and tossed it into the back seat.

  Her white bra was like a beacon in the night. All I could say was “Wow!”

  Five years later, during our second years in college, we were married. I have to admit that even after we were married the sight of her in a bra still took my breath away.

  My Third Whoop

  The letter came from the State Bar association. Four years of college and three years of law school and it all came down to one stupid envelope in my hand.

  I just stood there in the doorway our apartment, staring at the envelope. I couldn’t stop my hand from shaking.

  Debbie, who had spent seven years putting me through college, looked at what I was holding, then gently took it out of my hand.

  I was already an associate at David, David, and Jennings, one of the best law firms in town. But I still had to pass the bar, and the results of that bar exam were inside the envelope. Three weeks ago I had walked out of the exam convinced I had passed, but with every day since I became less and less sure, to the point where I could hardly sleep I was worrying about it so much.

  I couldn’t watch as Debbie quickly opened the letter.

  Then, in the loudest release of breath I had ever heard, she handed me the letter and then hugged me, smiling and crying at the same time.

  I glanced at the letter. I had passed.

  “Oh, thank God!” I said.

  “You did it,” Debbie said.

  I looked her right in the eye and shook my head. “We did it.”

  All both of us could do after that was just smile.

  My Fourth Whoop

  My secretary knew what I liked. We’d been having an affair for almost a year, and she said that she had something very special for me for Christmas this year.

  Debbie and I had had two kids, a boy named Ben and a daughter named Karen. With Debbie focusing on the kids and me focusing on building my law practice, we sort of drifted apart. At some point a few years back we just sort of stopped making love, one or the other of us seeming to always be too busy. We talked about it once in a while, but never really acted on the talk.

  We also fought a lot, especially right after the kids were born. It seemed I never knew when I went home if Debbie was going to be angry or not.

  I don’t think Debbie knew I was having an affair with my secretary, Heather, and I never wanted her to find out. She had developed a real temper over the years, and I sure didn’t want her letting that temper lose on me for something as major as an affair. It was bad enough on the small stuff with the kids and the house and money.

  Heather knew I was never going to leave Debbie, and she didn’t much care. She was open sexually and had no thoughts at all of wanting me as a husband.

  “So what’s this surprise you’ve been talking about?” I asked Heather as I came back into my office after my last meeting. It was a little after six in the evening three days before Christmas, and Debbie didn’t expect me home for at least another few hours.

  Heather beamed at me, her twenty-something smile lighting up the room. She had long blonde hair, even longer legs, and a body that looked far too good in a lace bra and underwear.

  “This way,” she said, motioning me with a finger.

  She had that sexy look on her face and I knew I was in for something fun.

  She led me into my darkened office, and then before I could turn on the light, she put her hand on mine and said, “Not yet. I’ll tell you when.”

  She closed the door and turned the lock, sending the room into almost complete blackness, since the blinds were down on the window and it was a dark night outside.

  I could hear a faint rustling in the dark. Then Heather said, “Go ahead.”

  I snapped on the light. The sight that greeted me was something I could have only dreamed about. Heather and another young woman were both sitting on the edge of my desk. Both were wearing only lace underwear. The sight took my breath away, so it was a moment before I finally said, “Wow!”

  Heather smiled at me. “This is Heidi, a friend of mine. She’s going to help me give you a very special Christmas present.”

  Two and a half hours later I finally managed to stagger to my car. Never, in all my life, had a Christmas been like this one.

  My Fifth and Final Whoop

  I was just over an hour late getting home after my special present from Heidi and her friend. I expected to find Debbie sitting in her favorite chair, watching television, wrapped in her blue bathrobe, more than likely angry at me. But instead, when I opened the
door, I was greeted with the wonderful smell of baking cookies.

  I took off my coat and dropped my briefcase on the hall table, then headed for the kitchen. I had skipped dinner because of Heather’s little surprise, so the smell of the cookies was almost more than my rumbling stomach could handle.

  When I went through the kitchen door, I got a sight that not in a million years would I have expected to see. Debbie was leaning over the stove in her white lace bra and underwear, taking out a fresh batch of cookies.

  Until that moment I hadn’t realized just how attractive she still was. Even after having two children, she had kept herself fit.

  “Wow!” I said, for the second time in the same night.

  She looked up at me and smiled. “Welcome home. I thought I’d give you a little surprise.”

  I glanced around, then back at her. “Where are the kids?”

  “At my mothers for the night,” Debbie said, smiling her old sexy smile. “So we’re all alone.”

  She put the hot batch of cookies on the stovetop, closed the oven, and moved over to a plate of cookies already frosted. “I bet you’re hungry,” she said, offering the plate to me.

  “I am,” I said, taking two cookies. “And these smell wonderful. And you look wonderful.”

  I almost swallowed the first cookie whole, it tasted so good.

  “I do, don’t I?” she asked, turning around so that I could see her from all sides.

  “You do,” I agreed between bites of the second cookie. “Really good.”

  “As good as Heather and her friend Heidi?”

  I froze in mid-bite, staring at her smile.

  She laughed, twirling around to give me another look. “I’m surprised you would even be interested after what those two young things put you through in your office.”

  I had no idea what was happening, how she knew about Heather and what had happened in my office, or how she was even going to react. So being a good attorney and a fearful husband, I ventured nothing, and said nothing.

  She leaned against the counter across the kitchen from me, that damned white lace bra of hers making her look very sexy. “Surprised, huh?”

  I nodded slightly and she laughed.

  It was getting damned hot in that kitchen at that moment. Too hot.

  “Didn’t you know I would find out what you were doing? Hell, I went to take you dinner to talk about things and even got a little show tonight.”

  Damn, she had a key to my office. I had made her one years ago.

  “So I thought I’d just come home and give you a little show of my own.”

  I could feel my heart racing, my blood pounding through my head. I couldn’t seem to think straight.

  I tried to say something, but the words didn’t want to come out.

  “Oh, good,” Debbie said, laughing and coming toward me, “the poison is working.”

  I wanted to say, “Cookies?” but again nothing came out.

  The next instant, instead of staring at Debbie’s white bra, I was watching the tile Debbie and I had picked out specially for the kitchen come rushing up at my face.

  I woke up six hours later in the hospital. A woman who looked like a doctor was standing over me, frowning.

  “Poison,” I managed to croak out.

  “We know,” she said, nodding and staring at some instrument beside me. Then she patted my arm. “Just rest.”

  I must have rested, because the next thing I remembered was waking up to the blinding light from the window, my head pounding so hard I thought it might explode.

  Debbie was already in jail. She served a total of six years in prison for trying to kill me.

  I lost my position in the firm and had to hang out my own shingle because it came out in court what Heather and I were doing that caused Debbie to snap.

  The kids lived with me, with my parents helping out, and visited their mother every other Sunday while she was in jail, and every other week after she got out and got a job. I never did make as much money as I had been making at the firm, but I did all right for myself over the years. And never once hired a secretary.

  I never remarried either. Couldn’t see much point in it.

  I was thirty-two when Debbie poisoned me with that cookie. Now I’m seventy-two, no longer practice law, and have three wonderful grandkids. But in all those years, I never had another whoopee moment.

  I guess I should be happy to have a five-whoopee life.

  From what I understand, some people never even have one.

  I feel sad for them.

  About the Author

  Bestselling author Dean Wesley Smith has written more than 100 popular novels and well over 200 published short stories. His novels include the science fiction novel Laying the Music to Rest and the thriller The Hunted as D.W. Smith. With Kristine Kathryn Rusch, he is the coauthor of The Tenth Planet trilogy and The 10th Kingdom. He writes under many pen names and has also ghosted for a number of top bestselling writers.

  Dean has also written books and comics for all three major comic book companies, Marvel, DC, and Dark Horse, and has done scripts for Hollywood. One movie was actually made.

  Over his career he has also been an editor and publisher, first at Pulphouse Publishing, then for VB Tech Journal, then for Pocket Books. He now is an executive editor of Fiction River.

  Currently, he is writing thrillers and mystery novels under another name.

 

 

  Smith, Dean Wesley, Life in Whoopees

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