Big Money

By Tami Parrington

Richard, and Marie Jordan are an average suburban middle-class family. They have the American dream--a happy marriage, two kids, a house, two cars, plenty of credit cards, and lots of debit. Faced with the threat of losing their main source of income, Marie decides to take a chance on playing the lottery. When she wins, Richard and Marie find out exactly how much things change when faced with more wealth than they’d ever dreamed of, and more predators than they could ever imagine

A dizzying look at the downward spiral of money and corruption that has the ability to rip a family in shreds, and how they manage to survive the crushing blow.

About the Author

Tami Parrington is a writer whose personal life is as eclectic as her writing. The author of three previous novels, numerous articles and short stories, as well as several screenplays, she is also a loving mother of two grown children, and devoted grandmother of two. She has been married to her soul mate for twenty-nine years and lives on a farm in central Illinois where she raises just about every farm animal possible, and has successfully shown rabbits, dogs, goats, horses, and even chickens.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tami Parrington
• Release date: May 4, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476248271

Tami Parrington

I was an only child. Coupled with the fact that I was raised by depression era grandparents, and the generation gap was extreme I was alone a lot as a child. That sounds pretty maudlin, and my grandparents loved me, and I them. I had a good life, but the situation was what it was, and I spent a lot of my time in my own head. What that did for me was show me that–it wasn’t such a bad place to be. I could create my own world. The one I really wanted to live in, or sometimes, the ones I didn’t want to live in. I could explore my own reality and many other realities. I could tear about society’s ideals, my own ideals and create better ideals–or sometimes just find out what happened when you really did follow the rabbit down the rabbit hole. Those early days set up a love for both creating my own worlds and stories, and getting lost deep in other people’s worlds. I was an avid reader from a very early age. The love for words was born and while it may have lingered unattended once in awhile, it never really goes away. All my life I’ve been a writer and explorer of the human condition, the world and visions of what life could be.

Book preview

BIG MONEY

TAMI PARRINGTON

Big Money

Tami Parrington

Copyright 2002 by Tami Parrington

Smashwords Edition

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When the dream starts, and the stars are in alignment, who’s to question their purpose?

She saw the look in Richard’s eyes, the look that said she’d gone completely insane. She even fancied she saw his fleeting calculation on the cost of having her committed. Hearty laughter escaped her lips, as Richard looked on, perplexed to the point of fear.

For Bob: My biggest fan.

The Critics say about Ms. Parrington’s writing…

"The Road To Paradise gives new meaning to the phrase, ‘be careful what you wish for’. It’s a wild ride, filled with humor and insight, into an enigmatic world."

—Pamela Kock, Romance Book Reviews

"Intrigue, infatuation, and attraction are the setting for this fast paced romance novel by Tami Parrington. The Road To Paradise begins with a fast pace, heightens in the middle of the novel, and runs high from there with emotional conflict. Fasten your seat belts for this flight into the characters portrayed within this wonderful novel"

—Shelia Jordon, Woman on Writing Romance Reviewer

Readers say…

"…The memorable characters, descriptive settings, and

emotional stories deliver a truly satisfying read. Tami ‘puts you there’ and you soon forget you’re reading a book."

—Dawn Tomasko

"…An intriguing mix of love an adventure…immensely

entertaining"

—Marie Holloway

"Tami spins her own unique heartwarming tales of family, love, and life while putting readers on an emotional roller coaster."

—Judith Gilbert

BIG MONEY

Tami Parrington

CHAPTER ONE

In a lavish ballroom, Marie Jordan swooped across the floor in a splendid evening gown, held close in the tender, yet firm hands of a handsome escort. Music, laughter, and the sounds of others gliding across the floor surrounded them, but Marie heard nothing except the captivating beat of her lover’s heart as it pounded against her chest, and the sloshing of his feet.

Her serene expression switched to one of utter perplexity. Sloshing? Marie looked down at the wet floor, and her eyes followed the trail of water to the mop in her hands. Ah, my Prince. The dance is over so soon?

Marie’s shoulders tightened and the last lingering haze of daydream swept away as a gust of raging hormones in blue jeans spun her in a way no Prince ever could. Bobby, a sixteen-year-old tornado in baggy pants flew through the kitchen in a mad dash for the door. Bobby! Wait, Marie hurried to a cabinet and grabbed a breakfast bar. She tossed it, and it was caught in midair. Lunch money? Marie slumped a bit on the handle of her re-acquired mop.

Got it! Bobby’s hand held the door jam tenuously as he attempted to stop. His bright blue eyes sparkled. His hair…Marie grimaced.

She hurried for the door, her mop once again a discarded partner. She reached for the blond mess, but Bobby recoiled from her touch.

Horror replaced youthful freshness as Bobby dodged her hand. Don’t! I took 20 minutes to get right.

You meant to do that? Marie pulled herself in, and gave her son a stern glare that melted into concession when his boyish smile returned.

Oh, I need new cleats for the game on Friday. Bobby wheeled around and bolted down the path to the curb where a monstrous yellow machine sat idling impatiently.

Marie’s shoulders slumped, her mouth dropped, and she blinked in disbelief. Friday? Her words were weak, and meant for no one but God himself to hear. You’ve got to be kidding? She knew he wasn’t though. Bobby joked around about a lot of things, but never baseball. Marie took hold of the mop stick, and held it boldly before her. Well, Prince, may I have this dance?

Bye, Mom.

Marie barely had time to glance up and see the blur that was her thirteen-year-old bundle of optimism fly out the door just as the bus bellowed out a loud, obnoxious, honk of a warning. Nicole! Breakfast…

Got it! Nicole held a bar of questionable nutrition high above her perfectly coiffed head.

Marie shook her head. That’s great, dear, just what I would have picked.

Nicole grinned from ear to ear as she skipped backwards toward the gapping doors of the bus. I know, great huh?

With that she was gone. The bus roared away, and the oak lined street was quiet once again except for the occasional chirp of a momma bird calling to its chicks. Marie picked up the mop yet again, but before her mythical Prince could sweep her off her feet, two more tender, loving arms embraced her from behind, and spun her around to embrace her. A smile spread across her lips as she buried her face in her knight in gray pinstripe suit’s lapels.

Marie gasped as he crushed her to him in a powerful good morning kiss. When he released her from his embrace, she smoothed the material back in place across his chest.

Richard Jordan had been her knight in shining armor from the very first moment she met him. He’d rescued her from… what exactly? A little scoff escaped her lips as she returned to the mop while Richard poured himself his morning coffee.

Resting for a moment on the tip of the mop, with her head on her hands she tried hard to think of exactly what she’d needed rescuing from. At nineteen she’d had a pretty comfortable life. Even at that age of discontent, she’d always had everything she ever needed, and most of what she’d wanted. She wasn’t really sure she’d ever needed rescuing. But no matter, a Prince was a Prince, and you didn’t argue with fairy tales, especially when they came true.

She cast a glance in his direction as he drained the last of the cup and grabbed his briefcase. Her smile returned. That’s what Richard gave her, the security of knowing she had a never-ending supply of love.

Richard grabbed her arm, and twirled her around once more to face him. Well, my darling, I’m off to battle the wicked forces, and bring home yet another dollar. He tried to stop the laugh at the look of exasperation on her face, and pulled her close to him in a warm embrace. Better appreciate that dollar for as long as we can, too.

Marie gripped the back of his jacket. Are they still grumbling about layoffs? She squeezed him tight hoping to block the words from her ears, but there were no words, just a sullen, unseen nod that she could feel all the way down to her toes. Her grip weakened. Richard pushed her back at arm’s length. With one hand he tilted her head up to meet him eye to eye.

We’ll be okay. He gave her a sideways, questioning, smile. Okay?

Marie nodded. She knew they would. They always were. As long as they were together, everything would be fine.

Whoa! She felt the room spin beneath her as Richard twirled her with a grand gesture before diving down and dipping her precariously close to the bucket of gray, sudsy water. Richard, stop! Her stern words were covered by her giddy laughter. He always made her feel wonderful, no matter how bad the news.

How about doing your brave knight a favor? Huh? Richard stood her up again, and pulled an envelope from his pocket. Could you deliver this to the forces of evil before work?

Aw, Rich. Marie glared at the envelope with the name of the electric company emblazoned on its front.

It’s due today. A sheepish smile played on his lips.

Cutting it a little close, aren’t we? Try as she might, she couldn’t be mad at him when he looked at her like that. Richard, shame, shame, shame.

Uh huh, the shame, shame, shame, will be if it gets to the bank before my check does tomorrow.

Richard! Marie took a deep breath, Then it should wait until tomorrow. She waived the paper in the air. She knew it wouldn’t. She knew it couldn’t. After nineteen years, she knew exactly how the bill juggling game was played. It drove her mad.

Yeah, well get that to the electric company by noon, or never mind the shame. The kids will be doing their homework in the dark, dark, dark.

Might do them good to live without for a while. She tested him.

Uh huh, and how do you feel about spending the evening in the dark? His smirk tried to irritate her, but all it did was make her giggle.

Ha ha, got you there, she wiggled her eyebrows seductively at him, I kind of like that idea best at my age.

Fine, and just before bed, a nice, cold, shower! He smiled as she held out her hand for the envelope.

I’ll pass on that. Marie tossed the envelope to the table by her purse.

Good girl. Richard hurried out the door. I’ll see you tonight, my Princess.

Yeah, yeah, she mumbled to herself as she looked down at her tattered bathrobe and fuzzy slippers as he rushed down the walk to his trusty, rusty steed.

Marie eyed the offending envelope. There has to be more to life than this. She shrugged off the thought as she poured a cup of coffee and grabbed a rag from the sink. You know what I should do? Marie scolded the cast off envelope. I should just win the lottery, that’s what. The very thought made her laugh. Then it made her brow wrinkle. Richard would have her hide if she threw away money on the sport of fools, she heard his voice ring out as clearly as if he stood right next to her.

Gambling was the number one sin in Richard Jordan’s book. In fact, the only sin that held a fate worse than death. Marie huffed, and shuffled to the kitchen table, picked up the envelope, and fought the urge to crinkle it up and toss it in the garbage. It’s about what that piece of paper inside you is worth anyway. She waited, almost expecting a return argument. What would be so bad about taking a chance, and buying a lottery ticket anyway?

Just as Marie reached across the table, and grabbed her purse to shove the bill inside a voice startled her private confession of desire.

Lottery? Did I hear you say the ‘L’ word? Bouncy, vibrant, and ever so independent, Ellen DuBois pranced into the room, headed for the coffee pot, and poured while spying at Marie with a devilish gleam.

No, you didn’t hear the ‘L’ word, and you better not tell Richard you didn’t hear it either. A slight edge of panic tipped Marie’s words, but she pushed the lump in her throat away when she saw Ellen’s lips curl into a smile.

Oh don’t worry, I won’t say a word to Mr. Penny Pincher. Ellen sat across from Marie and prepared to laugh, but stopped short when Marie tossed her a ‘be careful’ look. Okay, he’s not that bad.

No, he’s not. Marie shrugged. Sometimes it did seem like Richard got carried away on his rant over the evils of gambling, but he had reason.

Marie closed her eyes. The memory of the last time she’d ever bought a lottery ticket flooded her mind.

It’s a fool’s game.

Someone has to win. Marie fumbled with the rag under the dishwater. What a thing that would be to win millions, she thought. To not have to work every day to make someone else millions. To be able to do what you wanted, not what you had to."

Not people like us.

Why not people like us? She knew she wouldn’t win. The determination in his eyes was fierce, but Marie’s mouth turned into a pout, and she crossed her arms. You know what they say, you can’t win if you don’t play.

Yeah, rich people say that to sucker poor people into giving them their last dollar.

Match point. Game over.

Besides, that kind of money changes people, Richard continued smugly, his voice stern, his look commanding. Marie hated when he got that look, because there was no way to win against it. He was right, and he knew it. It causes nothing but fights.

Did he have to keep going? You can stop now, you win. Marie turned back to the sink full of dishes.

I wasn’t trying to win.

It wouldn’t change us. One last attempt for the road. Marie glanced back at Richard in hope.

Everybody thinks that.

So much for the road, she splashed the soapy water with the rag.

Marie took a big gulp of steamy coffee. That was the first time she’d bought a lottery ticket, and the last.

Care to share?

Marie glanced across the table, and felt a flush rising up her cheeks. Sorry, got lost in thought. With a smile she got up, and put her cup in the sink. Anyway, he’s not really that bad, just concerned about our welfare. He can’t bear to have things turn out like it did for his father…

I’m sorry. I know. If my father had lost everything we owned when I was a child, and then blew his brains out instead of…

Marie held up a hand. Spare me. I know. It was horrible, and he was devastated, but I can’t take thinking about that right now.

Ellen nodded. Well, anyway, I’d be fanatic about gambling too.

###

Cynthia Baxter tapped her manicured nails on the handles of an exercise bike. She stared out a panoramic window view of her lavish estate with an intensity meant to drive her through the magnificent community of homes like the diva she was, in spite of being propped up on a immobile object meant only for her torture.

With a swipe she brushed away a bead of sweat forming on her brow as she watched her husband pace the expansive bedroom. His rich, black hair tipped in a very distinguished manner with just a hint of gray. His body still strong, and virile beneath the crisp, white suit shirt belied his 50 years. He could still made her heart race, but right now he was driving her crazy. You’re wearing a path in the carpet.

Bill stopped, and looked down at the thick, plush carpeting beneath his feet before glaring at his wife. For a brief second he considered her straddling the stationary bike, her bosom stretching the Lycra material to its very limits, her long, thin legs quivering on the petals; he swiped his lips with his tongue, then continued to pace. We’re screwed.

What a lovely appraisal. The wheel on the bike whirled once more as Cynthia slowly pumped. You say that every morning. It’s your mantra. Her stare shifted to the bedspread where the ‘Wall Street Journal’ lay discarded, turned open to the stock pages. You shouldn’t read that before breakfast. It makes you grouchy.

Losing everything tends to do that to a man. Bill paced to the window; he leaned across Cynthia’s pumping legs and looked intently out at the quiet neighborhood. A school bus pulled up to a house across the street and children ran from the home and jumped on. Craig over there didn’t think it could happen to them. Bill straightened. Now look.

Cynthia craned her neck to peer across the street. The school bus pulled away revealing the ‘for sale’ sign driven into the front lawn. Carla says you get what you deserve.

And what does the maid know about stocks? Bill stormed off into the bathroom while Cynthia watched. He reappeared in the doorway with a face full of shaving cream. Hum?

Probably nothing, Cynthia admitted. She looked down at her bike, the wheel still spinning even though her feet were still.

Got that right! Bill retreated in a huff.

As the water ran, Cynthia listened to the sounds of the razor splashing in the sink. Bet she knows how to bail a sinking ship though, she mumbled in response. Her head jerked up as Bill charged back into the room, grabbed his jacket, and stormed out.

###

The sun set gently over the rooftops as Marie’s sedan pulled into the driveway. Home at last, she sat behind the wheel for a moment savoring the peaceful feeling of a long day finally at an end. She grabbed her purse, and for a second let the faintest hint of happiness spread across her face. She saw her features in the rearview mirror and smiled. That will have to do, she scolded her reflection, when you walk into that house, you don’t know anything about a lottery ticket, you never heard of a lottery ticket, you never saw a lottery ticket, and you darned sure never bought a lottery ticket. She sighed as the feeling of euphoria passed, and she grabbed the bags of groceries she’d picked up on the way home. Richard just wouldn’t understand.

It wasn’t about the money.

She knew it was the worst possible odds ever of winning those games. It was about the hope. She patted the side of her purse as she lurched from the car, bags in hand, as long as she had that ticket, she had a little sliver of hope. Marie hummed a happy little tune as she hurried for the door.

She pushed the door open and was greeted by the sounds of the television as she stumbled into the living room.

Nicole and Bobby sat at the living room coffee table scribbling on paper with books spread across the floor at their sides. They paid no attention to the words they wrote, in favor of the re-run on TV.

Behind the kids, Richard lay sprawled on the couch, with his eyes closed and his mouth open.

Dinner will be done in a minute. Don’t mind me, Marie said as she huffed off into the kitchen. Neither child paid her any mind, but Richard’s eyes popped open wide and he sprung from the couch.

Richard grabbed a bag from her arms and began unpacking. As he passed her on the way to a cabinet, Marie put her arms around his waist and let her tension fall away as she melted into him.

Long day? He said as he nuzzled her neck.

They’re all long days, Marie said. Richard pulled back and looked into her eyes. Uh oh, she thought. What’s wrong?

Marie… Richard’s voice wavered. His bottom lip trembled.

Marie thought for a moment he would cry. It was a scary feeling, he was the strong one, her rock, and he was crumbling before her eyes.

Little problem at work today. His arms tightened around her. Marie took in a big gulp of air, and pushed the fear back down into her belly where it became a heavy stone.

Little problem? she said, hoping he’d just had a bad day, but knowing it wasn’t that kind of little.

There is no more job. There, he