The Stranger Than Fiction Department
Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved.
Life is a beach and then you go home and show everyone pictures.
Synopsis: An innocent girl comes to America and winds up in trouble!
Story Codes: No Sex, Pregnant (not the Virgin
Mary)
Note: We had an au pair, but she was Chinese.
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Au Pair
by Evil Little Sister
I was 18 when I decided to travel abroad before starting my studies at the university. My parents encouraged me, despite being a young woman of rather limited experience, because they felt I was mature enough to take care of myself. I felt confident as well and looked forward to seeing the United States.
It wouldn’t be a real vacation of course, I didn’t have the funds for that. I would have to work but I’d made arrangements through a company in Boston, Service Prestige, to gain employment as an au pair. I had excellent references from school and my work as an assistant with special needs children here in London. Even before I boarded my flight I had several offers to consider and it was quite exciting.
I interviewed with three couples and they were all very cordial and friendly. I’ll admit I was slightly intimidated with the wealth all three of the families presented, but none of them made me feel anything but welcome. The job I took was for a younger couple, the Leeds. They were in their early thirties and quite attractive, but I had no eye for that as such. I was a virgin and quite happily so, even proud of my inexperience sexually. I had dreams of finding the perfect gentleman, as every young woman does, I’m sure. My purity would be my wedding gift to him.
It was a beautiful house, white and tall and wide, with gleaming columns and a neat hedgerow that reminded me of home. It stood atop a small hill with a long steep stairway leading up to the front door. It was quite a climb and I was slightly breathless when I reached the top, but the view was impressive and I enjoyed it for a moment before ringing the doorbell.
“Oh, you’re adorable! Isn’t she adorable, Charles? Absolutely adorable.” Mrs. Leeds was smiling and she held my hand after she greeted me, slipping her left hand to the small of my back and guiding me gently into the large house.
“Yes she is.” Mr. Leeds nodded, giving me a smile which suggested he understood his wife well and hoped I would as well. She certainly was effusive in her admiration and it made me a little self-conscious.
I’m rather petite at 5’1” and 100 pounds, as you tend to measure things here. With golden blonde hair that I liked to wear loose, just below my shoulders. I have blue-green eyes and small breasts, 32B cups with strawberry nipples. My waist is tiny and my hips still with a touch of baby fat, giving them a soft, round appearance. I like to smile and it brings small dimples to my pale cheeks. I have a classic English complexion I’m afraid, snow white and prone all to much too the sun.
For my interview I was dressed nicely, of course. A long pleated blue skirt and a simple white blouse with a matching blue silk scarf tied loose around my delicate neck. I stood correctly and smiled a lot and tried my best to accept Mrs. Leeds’ seemingly unending flow of compliments.
“I love your hair, is that a French curl?” Mrs. Leeds asked while pouring tea, or what passes for tea in the United States, in my honor.
“No, ma’am.” I smiled apologetically and touched my hair, as if to make sure it was the way I remembered it. “It just likes to fall that way.”
“You’re so lucky!” she told me. “Your boyfriends must be mad over you, simply mad!”
“Uh, well ma’am, I don’t have a boyfriend, I’m…”
“I’ve looked through your references, placed some phone calls. Your headmaster was most persuasive,” Mr. Leeds cut me off, and obviously he would be the one to decide on my employment.
“Mr. Hennessey is very generous.” I lowered my eyes.
“Yes, well, he suggested we hire you immediately.” Mr. Leeds looked at me. “Why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself, what are your plans for the future?”
And so we sat there, sipping our tea and talking about me for an hour. We discussed my family and friends, my plans to attend the university and study literature. We talked about politics and religion and even the weather, I imagine. It all passed very quickly and it didn’t bother me. Mr. Leeds was a very good conversationalist and his wife, surprisingly enough, was adept at listening.
I met their child, a beautiful 18 month old girl, named Samantha. She had been napping when I arrived and I had the opportunity to play with her for a bit, making friends with the girl and I think her ready acceptance of me was the deciding factor. Samantha was an angel and I knew would honestly enjoy watching after her.
“I have some papers in the den, let me find them and we’ll have all that taken care of, okay?” Mr. Leeds said, shaking my hand. “Welcome to our family, Jennifer.”
“Oh, I’m so glad to have you!” Mrs. Leeds told me, touching my arm and smiling. “It will be so nice to have another girl around the house. I must ask you one thing…” She licked her lips and lowered her voice. “You do use a proper contraceptive, right dear?”
“Excuse me?” I blinked at the woman, understanding what she said, but not understanding her meaning at all.
“Well, what I mean is, our last girl, Nancy, she…Well, she got herself pregnant, you see? We had to let her go and it was very embarrassing for her.” Mrs. Leeds was nodding to herself, her brown eyes looking down into mine. “But you’re so sensible, of course you take precautions…”
“I, uh, no,” I said, and hastened to explain. “I’m a virgin. I don’t...I mean, I’ve never…I don’t even have a boyfriend.”
“Oh!” She stood a fraction straighter and smiled brightly. “Well, then we won’t have to worry about that, will we?”
As she giggled softly, I smiled with some small sense of relief.
I'd been warned that America was a nation of loose morals and suggesting that I needed to take precautions, by a woman who barely knew me, well it was almost insulting actually. But Americans do have a way of expressing things rudely without intending to, so I did my best to overlook it.
“Now, here we are.” Mr. Leeds had returned with the paperwork provided by Service Prestige and it was all in order.
The rules and conditions of my employment were straightforward and not disagreeable. Such things as no visitors without permission by the Leeds, no drug use, no pregnancy was included as well, and several other things besides. As I say, it was a sensible document and I was signing a contract for three months, sort of a trial period, after which we would form a more permanent arrangement, or terminate our agreement if either of us so desired. The pay was certainly generous, and I had already fallen in love with Samantha, so signing it was a very simple decision for me.
I was very happy with the Leeds, and quickly fell into the routine of my work, which was simply attending to the child. I had free time and free reign of much of the house as well, although I exercised that privilege hesitantly at first. There was a grand library, however, and outside a lovely pool, and I was soon enjoying my afternoons reading in the shade while Samantha napped in her crib next to me. Mr. and Mrs. Leeds were correct with me in every way, respectful and pleasant and I found myself enjoying their company a great deal as they would often invite me to dine with them.
The cook was an older woman, from Argentina, who spoke little English outside of those words necessary to her employment. But she was a fine cook all the same and I wish I could say we were friends as well, but she tended to ignore me, or at best simply listen politely and then shake her head slowly before returning to whatever she was doing.
The maid too, was older, and she did not live in the house with us, but came and went from 10am until after the Leeds had eaten. She would assist in the kitchen and return home, barely speaking to me except in friendly greeting. And truthfully I didn’t mind, much of my time was spent with Samantha, or occasionally with Mrs. Leeds, who was ever willing to entertain me with stories about her friends, or once in awhile discuss the sad misadventures of their previous au pair.
“I never would have guessed her to be such a slut!” Mrs. Leeds would say with a small laugh, invariably causing me to blush. “She was French, you know, so I suppose that explains it.”
I would nod, without truly knowing why, and listen as Mrs. Leeds recounted the moment when this French girl, Claudette, who was only 18 herself at the time, confessed that she was pregnant to her employers.
“The girl said she didn’t know how it could have happened,” she said, frowning. “Her boyfriend, a rather dull young man from Harvard, always used a condom, or so she claimed.”
The woman would talk about them all day long, if I let her, and it was only with reluctance that we could change the subject. I knew very little about sex, having never found anything very exciting about the subject. My classmates were eager, of course, and I had watched their exploits with the local boys, occasionally mystified at their fascination for such things as kissing. I had never fully understood it however, and I sometimes wondered if Mrs. Leeds didn’t find amusement in my obvious embarrassment.
“Perhaps the boy had a large penis,” she whispered, but we were quite alone in her sun room. “I’ve heard that large men, and I do me very large men,” she raised her eyebrows with a girlish giggle, “can really put a condom to the test.”
“I’m not sure…” I blushed, having no reply, as usual.
“And the girl too, I would think!” Mrs. Leeds laughed happily and touched my knee so that I would know to join her laughter.
For all her strangeness however, Mrs. Leeds was a an attractive woman, as I’ve said. Taller than I by six inches or more, she was thin and dark, with black hair and full lips. I suppose she might have been a trophy wife, if I’d known what the term meant back then. As it was she was merely beautiful, with large full breast and nice hips and her bum was pert and showed no sign of age. I would have never guessed Mrs. Leeds had ever had a child, if it weren’t for the striking similarities she shared with Samantha.
Mr. Leeds was a good looking man in his own right. Tall and healthy, without the paunch that many men get in their thirties. He had brown hair and hazel eyes, fixed with intelligence and humor, although he rarely expressed himself directly. He was quiet and reserved, most often serious and his wit was dry, so that he would say something and it took you a moment to realize he was joking, and more often than not it was clever and quite funny.
I could easily have had a crush on Mr. Leeds, I think, if it weren’t for the fact that I was determined not to. I wouldn’t allow myself to think that way and besides, he gave me no sign whatsoever of his interest in me other than that of employer and somewhat distant friend.
It was perhaps five weeks into my employment, approaching the halfway mark, as it were, in my contract that I became slightly ill after dining with the Leeds. It wasn’t serious, more a disorientation and I merely excused myself and went to bed. I might have thought little of it really, just a touch of fatigue, perhaps, but for the curious findings the next morning.
I was incredibly sore, down between my legs. As if I were having a cramp, a small one which wouldn’t go away. But it had been over a week since my last menstruation, and that had been perfectly ordinary in all respects. It was a curious sensation, this discomfort, and it was inside me, deep within my vagina. I examined myself carefully during my bath, and I could see nothing distressing. My vaginal lips seemed somewhat puffy, I thought, and the inside of my sex was pink and slightly raw looking, bit otherwise I seemed alright. I didn’t remember anything from the night before except falling asleep.
Of course, I didn’t mention anything to my employers and within a day or two I had almost forgotten about it completely. Several nights later, however, after I’d dined once again with Mr. and Mrs. Leeds, I became very tired and I couldn’t finish my meal. I barely made it to my bed before falling asleep and I had very little capacity to wonder about it.
I woke up sore once again, but this time not nearly so bad as before. Just a dull ache, more or less, and an almost pleasant throbbing as well. I felt damp and I realized with a start that I was naked under my sheets. Mrs. Leeds was with me however, sitting in a chair and she looked at me with some concern as I looked around in confusion.
“I was worried about you, dear. You looked unwell at dinner last night,” she said, explaining to me how she’d looked in on me and even undressed me, trying to make me comfortable. “You were having some dreams, I think, moving and talking…”
“I…I don’t remember.” I frowned, feeling quite fine once I’d clamed down. I had no headache, or nausea, just that small cramp in my vagina, and even that was fading.
“Well, you just rest today, dear.” She smiled at me. “I’ll have Rosa bring you some tea and muffins. Stay in bed, that’s an order.”
“Yes ma’am,” I replied, sinking back into my pillows and wondering what I’d been doing. I couldn’t remember having any dreams at all.
The third time it happened was much like the second, except I’d been out by the pool, drinking lemonade with Mrs. Leeds, and I must have fallen asleep. We were both wearing our bathing suits, two piece bikini’s that belonged to Mrs. Leeds. I had a one piece of my own, but she had insisted I try one of hers and despite our disparity in size, it fit me pretty good, although I wasn’t entirely comfortable in it. I felt as if I were walking about in my undies, actually.
I awoke on the lounger, just where I’d been when I’d fallen asleep, and I felt hot and sweaty all over. I was in the shade though, and I was momentarily thankful of that, and then I realized I had that by now almost familiar ache between my legs. It wasn’t as bad as before, in fact every time I had one of these episodes the resulting pain was much less than the time before. But that eased my mind very little.
“Are you alright, dear? You were really out of it for a while there.” Mrs. Leeds smiled at me, pushing her sunglasses down her nose so I could see her eyes.
“Uh, yeah.” I nodded and I bit my lower lip.
My sex felt wet and greasy, as if I’d wet myself, but not quite. Like I’d gotten my period perhaps, but that was impossible, wasn’t it? Two full weeks early? I could see that the crotch of my suit was wet, stained with a dark spot of damp on the light blue material and I resisted the urge to pull the gusset aside and inspect my vagina.
“Come on. Let’s get in the pool,” she suggested. “You look like you could use a dip!”
With some reluctance I allowed Mrs. Leeds to pull me to my feet and I was just getting in the water when Mr. Leeds came walking out through the patio dressed in his swimwear as well. He wore tight spandex briefs that left very little to the imagination and I’ll confess my eyes were drawn to the size of his penis, which seemed unnaturally large. Of course I had no idea about such things, really, and I blushed terribly and entered the water feeling utterly confused.
I wondered how long I’d been asleep for. It seemed like just minutes, but I knew it was almost sunset which meant at least 3 hours, perhaps even 4 or more. I used the pool to slide my fingers inside my bikini bottoms, feeling my vagina for anything unusually, but there was nothing I could detect under the water. I was slippery, yes, and my fingers entered my sex easily, in fact I could fit three of them inside without much discomfort, which was very unusual for me.
Normally, I'd find even one finger almost painful, but I hadn’t done that sort of thing very often in my young life either, and the last time had been a month before coming to the United States. I’d masturbated all of three times in my life and I’d never received much pleasure from it. So that was slightly confusing, feeling my soft folds opening easily and even seeming to grip my fingers. It wasn’t unpleasant at all, except for the fact that I was doing this not a dozen feet away from my employers and I stopped myself very quickly, focusing instead on swimming a few lazy laps.
The fourth and final experience I had was a day later, the following evening. I’d bathed, put Samantha to bed and eaten my meal late, prepared by Rosa and left in the refrigerator. I had my usual cup of proper British tea after my bath and settled down with a book.
I woke up late in the morning, after eight easily, which was ridiculously late for me. I hurried to the nursery and found Mr. Leeds reading to Samantha and he just smiled at me, commenting on how I’d looked like I’d needed my rest, so he’d taken care of the child. I apologized profusely and he was quite generous with me. It was all rather disturbing to me, so much so that I hadn’t even noticed the dull barely noticeable throbbing of my sex. Not until I sat down on the toilet, urinating slowly and I happed to have my head down and I could see some sort of discharge from my vagina.
Kicking my panties down around my ankles, I leaned back and spread my pale thighs. I used my fingers to spread my labia and I could plainly see a clear thin liquid, perhaps slightly grey or whitish, with a slightly sticky texture. It was leaking from my vagina slowly, dripping out with soft plopping sounds into the toilet bowl. I pushed a finger inside myself, again marveling briefly at how loose and open I seemed down there. I was very wet inside, and not just from my urine, but deeper, as far into my vaginal canal as I could reach, I could feel the oily wetness. My finger came out covered with it and a small flood of the stuff fell out of me suddenly.
I held my finger to my nose, wondering what sort of illness could cause this. It smelled musky, very distinctive actually, but not entirely unpleasant. I finished urinating quickly and used the bidet, washing myself thoroughly and determined that I must confide in Mrs. Leeds. I needed a doctor, this was almost certainly not correct.
“Oh, dear!” Mrs. Leeds listened carefully that evening as I confessed my discovery. “And this is the first time it’s happened?”
“I’m not sure. The other day by the pool, I…Well, perhaps it was the same. I didn’t look.” I was worried, my thoughts had run to the worst possibilities all day long.
“And there are no other symptoms?” Mrs. Leeds watched my face carefully as I shook my head. “Hmmm...I have a very good doctor. I’ll give her a call in the morning, okay?”
“I don’t want to be a burden…”
“Oh shush now! How could you possibly be a burden?” she chided, and spent the rest of the night comforting me, assuring me it was probably nothing at all.
I sincerely hoped she was right.
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“It’s nothing at all,” Mrs. Leeds told me on Monday. “I’ve spoken with my doctor and she tells me that it’s just a delayed reaction to the travel. To the change in climate and food and so forth.”
“Really?” I cradled Samantha and narrowed my eyes, wondering why it would take so long for such a thing to happen. “Is she sure?”
“Well, she says she’s sure.” She laughed softly. “But if you like we can drive into the city and have her look at you. We can go right now. Let me call her office and…”
“Oh, no…Please…” I shook my head. “I don’t want to do that, I just…I was frightened, that’s all.”
I really couldn’t expect Mrs. Leeds to drop everything and bring me to her private doctor, not if the woman was sure it was nothing anyway.
“Well, let’s do this...” She took Samantha from me. “If it happens again, we will see her together, alright? No, I insist. If this continues, we’ll have you checked out thoroughly. Okay?”
“Yes ma’am,” I answered, lowering my eyes and feeling grateful for her concern. I didn’t want to be a bother, but if it did occur, well I would have no rest then until I knew for certain, I just prayed that this little travel bug, or whatever it was, was over.
It never did happen again, thankfully. The fatigue, the aches and cramps, nor did I find unusual discharge from my vagina, and I checked myself carefully every morning. I was apparently fine and healthy once again. This improved my mood considerable and I think my employers’ as well. Mr. and Mrs. Leeds had certainly been aware of my concerns and worry and after several weeks I think we all breathed a sigh of relief.
I also watched the calendar closely. My period was due to begin on Tuesday and ever since I'd turned 15 or so, I’d never been late and only occasionally early by a day at the most. So when that Tuesday came and went and my napkin stayed clean and blood free, I felt a little surprised. But perhaps that was another something to do with travel, although I’d been there for nearly two months already.
Another day passed, Wednesday, and still no sign of my period. Then Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. By Sunday I'd become extremely bewildered and it must have been plain for everyone to see. I’d come from an Irish household and raised a devout catholic, and it had been pleasant to find many of the affluent in Boston were catholic as well. So after we returned from Mass, Mrs. Leeds took me aside, asking me what was wrong.
It was mildly embarrassing to stand there in her garden, both of us wearing our Sunday dresses and having just come from church, to tell her that I was five days late for my period. Just saying it seemed to make it all the more impossible. I’d never been late before and it frightened me.
“Is that all?” Mrs. Leeds smiled and hugged me to her breasts. “We’re all late sometimes, and there has to be a first time for everything. Give it a day or two, Jennifer. Why, sometimes I’ve gone an entire week, I swear. You’ll be fine.”
I nodded and hoped she was right. I couldn’t imagine what might be wrong with me. First those strange episodes, then the discharge from my vagina, now this. I could have something serious, my mind insisted on tormenting me. It could be cancer, or some strange American disease. Who knows what I might have caught from all those strangers on the airplane. I tried to convince myself that Mrs. Leeds had to be correct. She must be right, I thought, because the alternatives were quite unbearable.
Another day, Monday, and I checked myself feverishly for any sign of my period. I probed my vagina carefully, pushing my finger so deep I thought for certain I would feel my hymen, but I couldn’t. I’d touched it once, when I was 17, and it had been just at the edge of my fingertip. A thin soft membrane that had assured me of my innocence and purity. I should have felt it now, I thought, and I worked my finger inside until it was almost painful the way my knuckles pressed against my pelvis. But I couldn’t feel it and that was disappointing, adding to my overall sense of confused fear.
Tuesday, a week solid had passed, and nothing. I was clean as could be and almost crying as I found Mrs. Leeds. She lent me her shoulder, hugging me and promising to call her doctor immediately.
I’d been to a gynecologist once, when I was younger, but that seemed far removed from the offices of Mrs. Leeds’ physician in Boston. She was a pleasant enough woman, however, plump and congenial, with red hair and freckles and not so old as I might have expected her to be. Unfortunately she little able to do more than give me a very quick appointment, barely 5 minutes of her time, during which she found me already in a hospital gown, laying on the examination table with my feet in the stirrups. It was mildly distressing, especially since Mrs. Leeds was there with me and she hadn’t been overly shy about glancing between my legs. I closed my eyes and remarked to myself once more upon American manners.
A nurse had been taking care of me, and her questions were quick and succinct. Had I been having unprotected sex? No. Had I experienced unusual discharge? I had, and I explained that it had seemed somewhat milky, but thin. Did I take drugs? No. Any history of this or that or the other thing, and of course all my answers were negative. They took blood and urine and when Dr. O’Hare, the good Irish gynecologist was able to see me, she spent 2 minutes between my legs, making me gasp as she inserted gloved fingers and felt around. She used a light as well, and a speculum, opening me enough to see inside.
“You’re fine,” she said, smiling. “A week late, hmmm?” The doctor looked at my chart. “Little discharge several weeks ago. Just the one day? How long did it last…Ah, when you woke up? I see…Probably nothing. There are a number of small problems that could cause that. None of them overly serious.”
Dr. O’Hare spoke quickly, asking questions almost faster than I could answer them. She seemed to know what she was doing though, and that alone put my mind somewhat more at ease.
“When’s the last time you had intercourse, Jennifer?” she asked, and I replied that I was still a virgin. “You’ve never had sex? I see you’ve lost your hymen recently though. How did that happen?”
“What?” I stared at her. “I don’t know! I didn’t…I mean, are you sure?”
“Yes, pretty sure.” She made it sound like I was being silly. “I could see a small bit of scar tissue there. Some recent healing, no problems at all...So you didn’t know?”
“No.” I shook my head and felt even worse than before suddenly. “How could that have happened? By accident?”
“Well, it isn’t completely unheard of. The membrane can break anytime for a variety of reasons. For some women it’s a bit tougher to rupture the hymen, and for others a lot easier. Perhaps during some physical exertion, working out or playing sports. You didn’t notice any spotting or blood discharge though?”
“No, nothing like that,” I replied slowly, almost wishing there had been for some reason.
“Hmmm…We’ll wait and see what the lab tells us. That’ll take two or three days and we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on. Right now, everything looks pretty good. I’d like to go ahead and schedule you for a pap smear, just to be on the safe side and perhaps you’d like to consider a physical. I can refer you to one of my colleagues, she’s very good.”
I sat there trying to absorb all that. So there was nothing really wrong with me, Dr. O’Hare seemed to be saying, except that I’d lost my virginity recently, without knowing it, and I was a week late with my period. If I’d heard that about anyone else, one of my friends from school for instance, I might have asked if she was pregnant. But plainly that wasn’t possible here with me, was it? I couldn’t have picked up something in the pool, or from the toilet seat, could I? Those were just old stupid stories we used to here in prep school.
“…If you have anything symptomatic, or unusual, just call our office. Otherwise, we’ll be in touch, okay?” Dr. O’Hare didn’t wait for an answer, she had a regular appointment she was already late for.
“Well, good news then!” Mrs. Leeds said, smiling and watching me dress. I still felt uncomfortable being so exposed in front of her. “Nothing wrong that a little more time won’t fix, I think.”
“Maybe.” I nodded, trying to sound optimistic, but it was difficult and I couldn’t return her smile.
It was especially difficult waiting the next two days. I had almost given up hope on my period ever starting, but I checked myself dutifully in the mornings. And many times throughout the long days, hoping to see some dark stains, but there never were.
“…really? And you’re sure about the results?” Mrs. Leeds was speaking on the phone when I happened into the sitting room on Friday. “I see…yes, well…of course, it does seem that way. I’m surprised as well. Thank you, Doctor. Goodbye.”
I stood there, frozen like a statue, as though waiting for someone to pass judgement over me. Mrs. Leeds looked slightly pleased as she hung up the phone, but I must have been mistaken because when she looked at me she seemed hurt and angry for some reason.
“That was Dr. O’Hare, Jennifer.” She paused and I nodded, urging her silently to continue. “It seems you have a little problem.”
“What?” I swallowed hard. “What did she say? Am I sick? What is it?” I stepped forward and Mrs. Leeds held up her hand.
“Not sick, no.” She shook her head and looked me up and down slowly, finally resting her eyes somewhere below my breasts, on my flat stomach.
“What is it? Please, tell me,” I practically begged the woman, wondering why she teased me so cruelly.
“You’re going to be a mother, Jennifer.” Mrs. Leeds actually smiled, just a little, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. “You’re pregnant.”
“Wha…What?” I felt dizzy and the room was spinning. I couldn’t be pregnant, that was…”That’s impossible,” I whispered.
“Is it?” She clucked her tongue. “I never would have imagined it, Jennifer. Not from such a sweet girl like you.”
“I swear to you, Mrs. Leeds. You must believe me!”
“Have you been sneaking out, Jennifer? Is that what you’ve been doing?” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Or has your boyfriend been sneaking in?”
“I don’t…I never…” I shook my head, trying to understand. My eyes were watering and I would cry in a moment.
“That’s how you repay my hospitality, my friendship? By bringing a man into my house without telling me? By having sex, God knows where with God knows who?”
“N-No! Mrs. Leeds, it isn’t like that I…I…” I wept, burying my face in my hands, my body wracked with sobs as the woman confronted me.
“You’re quite the little whore, Jennifer. I actually fell for your act, the little virgin.” She spat the word at me. “You’re a slut. Nothing but an ungrateful little slut and you deserve to be pregnant.”
“No I don’t!” I wailed and my legs were rubbery, I could barely stand.
“Oh, stop your crying! It makes me sick. You people are all the same, nothing but breeders for more sluts. Go pack your things. I want you out of my house,” she said practically yelling at me and I sank down to my knees, crying like a child. “Do you hear me? I want you out of here!”
“What’s going on?” Mr. Leeds wondered, having just returned from work. He stood behind me in the doorway, but I couldn’t bear to turn my head, or even raise my eyes.
“The stupid slut is pregnant.” Mrs. Leeds laughed coldly. "She's a whore!"
“Oh. Well, I see…” They were quiet for a moment and I remained in the middle of the room, shaking and covering my face, burning with humiliation and wet with tears. “I guess that takes care of that. We’ll have to terminate your employment effective immediately, Jennifer. I’ll call your office and let them know why.”
He walked towards Mrs. Leeds and the phone and instinctively I reached out for his trousers, gripping him as my body was stricken with another overwhelming spasm of sobs.
“N-Nooo…” I wailed. “Please! Oh God, please…I’m sorry, Sir!”
He kicked at me, not hard, but just enough to free his pants from my weak fingers and continue on.
“I’m sorry, Jennifer, you haven’t given us any choice in the matter,” he coldly informed me. I stared at him while Mrs. Leeds looked down at me, smiling contemptuously.
“You’re a pathetic little whore,” she told me while her husband called my company and informed them of my condition. “I hope they deport you before you end up on the street corner with all the other welfare sluts.”
“…yes, that’s right. She’s pregnant…I don’t know anything about it…No…Of course, I’m terminating her immediately…A reference? Not from me…If anyone asks, I’ll have no choice but to tell them the truth…That’s right, she lied to us and she’s a slut…There’s no other word for it…I’m sorry, too…Thank you, I’m sure you’ll take care of it…Yes, I’m sure this isn’t typical of your company…Of course…Right…Goodnight.”
“Don’t let her go until I’ve checked my jewelry.” Mrs. Leeds said suddenly, as if she’d just remembered something important. I stared at her in shocked disbelief. “And I’ll check her room as well, who knows what she may have taken!”
Mrs. Leeds left the room and I was completely numb by then. My brain barely functioned and I might have thought I'd cried as many tears as I possessed, but they were still falling.
“Well, that’s taken care of.” Mr. Leeds looked at me. “Leave an address and I’ll forward you’re last paycheck to you. Would you like me to call you a cab, or is there someone who can pick you up?”
“What?” I mumbled, barely understanding what he was saying. I had no money, they hadn’t paid me at all yet. I had no place to go. I knew no one. All I had was my suitcase, my clothes, and the return voucher of my airline ticket.
“A taxi,” Mr. Leeds repeated. “You certainly can’t stay here.”
“Please, Mr. Leeds…” I swallowed hard and called up whatever reserves of strength I possessed. I wiped my red swollen eyes and stood up slowly. “I don’t know how this happened, I swear…”
“It’s too late for that, Jennifer.” He shook his head. “You should have considered the future, now you have to live with it.”
“But…”
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “You’re a sweet girl, I liked you a lot. But you’ve betrayed us. You have to leave. Go back home.”
“I…I can’t go back home,” I wailed, crying again. “Not like this! I…I’m pregnant. I can’t…”
“Get an abortion, or go someplace else.” Mr. Leeds shrugged and I realized he didn’t really care at all.
“We’re catholic,” I reminded him. “I can’t get an abortion. Help me, please…”
“Here’s your suitcase.”
I heard Mrs. Leeds’ harsh voice behind me and the dull thud of my suitcase falling to the carpet. “All of your clothes are inside, along with your plane ticket. Hurry up now, go on, you disgusting girl.”
I glanced at her and then at Mr. Leeds. “I have no money at all.”
Mr. Leeds rubbed his jaw and finally reached into his pocket, taking out his wallet and removing a fifty dollar bill. “This will get you to the airport. I’ll call you a taxi.”
He picked up the phone and I looked at the money, blinking as a tear fell on the crisp paper.
“That’s coming out of your pay,” Mrs. Leeds told me. “Go on now, you can wait by the curb.”
She stared at me as I walked slowly by.
“I-I’m sorry…” I tried to say, but she cut me off quickly.
“No, you’re not. You’re just sorry you got caught.” Mrs. Leeds shook her head and I picked up my suitcase, and walked outside and down those long steps forever.