Storiesonline.net
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                               11th Grade
                               by Openbook

Copyright© 2006 by Openbook


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Description: The second book in the Kenny the Kansan Series. In the first, Kenny makes a transition from orphan to beloved son of a rich and troubled family. Now, Kenny has settled in with his new family, and his future financial success seems assured. His social skills with peers are very limited, and he knows he needs to make some large adjustments if he ever wants to be truly happy.

Codes: mf FF cons les bi safe mastrb
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Chapter 1

I was busy practicing my new pre-shot routine, the one that Dave and I had been working on for the past two weeks. It was growing warmer almost daily, as early May gave way to late. I had been hitting balls for more than two hours, comfortable now with my new set up and alignment. I was almost ready to leave, to go have some lunch in the country club restaurant. Two girls I'd never seen before, came walking over to the practice area. They each carried their own clubs, and shared the weight of carrying one of the super sized large buckets of practice balls. The kind that held at least two hundred and fifty balls. Dave and I had started my lesson with two of these, and I had no more than a hundred balls left in the second bucket.

The taller girl, was the one who took the practice area closest to me. She was probably five nine at least, as tall as I had been before my latest growth spurt pushed me up and over the six foot mark. Her friend was shorter, perhaps five four, or five five at the most. She put her bag down about ten feet further away from me than the other girl had.

These weren't your typical sleek country club beauties, but, perhaps, my first impression was based more on their total disregard for stylish clothes, and the obvious truth that neither of them had the slightest desire to impress anyone with their good looks. Both wore their hair cut very short. It was cut in a style that people would refer to as being 'easy to manage', but only if they were really reaching, trying to come up with complimentary things to say about it. Both wore cut off jeans and boy's shirts. The golf shoes they wore were new though, and their clubs and bags looked clean and extremely well cared for.

I paid them only very slight attention at first, they were probably a little older than me, that was my initial thought, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. They didn't look enough alike to be sisters, so I already had decided they were probably just friends. I watched the two of them doing their warm up stretches, and that's when I noticed the shorter one wasn't wearing any bra. Her chest wasn't that large, but, without any support, her breasts were very noticeable as they moved around freely inside her shirt. I was watching that movement, fascinated by it, when the taller of the two yelled at me to mind my own business, and to stop being a pervert.

"Jane, you ought to charge this guy admission, the way he's staring at your boobs."

"Shut up, Grace, you want us to get kicked out of here before we even get our interview? I knew I should have kept this job offer to myself. This kid's probably a member here, and he'll report us for even being out here practicing like this. This is a private country club, not some muni where you can afford to piss people off."

The tall one looked me over. I had on a nice pair of slacks and a collared golf shirt, which she paid scant attention to. It was my golf bag and my clubs that had her attention. I had just gotten a new set of Ping Eye-2 irons, the ones with the Square Groove. These irons were a lot better than my original set, and Dave had let me hit with them for three days, before I bought them, just so he could make sure I liked them enough to make the switch from my other set. Dave knew the owner of the company, and he said these new clubs had been custom made just for me. Dave had sent them all of the information about my size and the way I swing the golf clubs. They were pretty expensive, but Dave said I had grown too much to stay with my old set of irons. It had taken the time it took to hit about fifteen balls for me to fall in love with them. Even balls I hit off center traveled straight, and they went long too, especially for the miss hits.

"You like those Pings? I heard they were expensive, but didn't have any feel at all. You can't shape a shot for shit with them. That's what I heard."

"I like them. They just take a little getting used to. I grew too much to keep my old irons." I was wondering why she kept looking at my clubs.

"Can I take a few swings with your six iron, just to find out if what my friend told me is true or not?" I looked at her for a few seconds, trying to decide if I wanted to be nice to her after she'd been rude to me. I walked back to my bag and pulled out my six, before coming back and handing it over to her. She set six balls up in a little row, using my club to line each one up just the way she wanted it. I knew right away that she was a perfectionist, and someone who took her golf seriously. She took five or six practice swings, off plane from where the balls were lined up, and then turned and set up for the first ball in line. Crack! The balls I hit didn't jump off the club head like that. One after another, six perfect swings, with each ball lifting up perfectly towards her target, which was one hundred seventy five yards out, directly ahead of us. I hit to that spot all the time, but with a five iron, not a six. I wasn't able to flight six balls in a row to the same basic area either, not like she had done it. She handed the club back to me. "Julie was right, Jane. The fuckers go straight, but you can't make them bend worth a damn."

"Can I hit with it too?" The one named Jane came over and held her hand out for the club I was still holding. I handed it to her, and she did the same thing Grace had, first, taking her practice swings, going into her set up, and then she hit the balls, all to the same target. On her sixth shot, she closed off her stance and managed to shape a slight hook on the ball, making it land just to the left of the other five she'd sent out there. "You just need to exaggerate your stance more." She got out another ball then, putting a little bit of slice on it, so it curved right, before coming to rest where all the others were. "Nice club. I hit that one a little off, and it still went pretty much where I wanted it to go." I had been watching her breasts bobble around inside her shirt each time she hit a ball. I never looked up to see the flight of her ball until all the bouncing around was finished. I missed it at first when she tried handing me my club back.

"You need to learn to be a little bit subtler when you're ogling someone, sport. It isn't nice to just stare and drool." I didn't know why Grace was trying so hard to embarrass me. I hadn't done anything to her.

"I wasn't drooling. I was just watching to see what they'd do next. You two are really good. I bet you could give my mom a good game." This last part made both of them laugh. They went back to their practice positions, and started pounding balls. Both of them were really good. The tall one had more power, but the short one was a lot more consistent. She'd hit ten balls to the same spot, but the tall one would miss one of those ten, and leave it ten yards left or right. They hit balls a lot faster than I did, and their divots were a lot neater too. They would stay in one divot, putting their ball in the last forward inch of grass before their last divot, so they used up less turf while practicing. In the time it took me to hit the last eighty five balls out, they finished off their whole bucket. I was actually rushing to manage to finish when they did.

"What now, Grace? She isn't supposed to even be here until four o'clock, and we spent our lunch money on that big bucket." It was around two forty five, so they had more than an hour to wait.

"You eat too much anyway. Let's put the sticks away first, and then go practice our putting. Did you see that putting green? I want to see what it feels like to putt on something as nice as that."

"I'm going to go get something to eat, you're welcome to join me." I was smiling, and looking at Jane. She looked over at Grace, a little nervously, like she needed her permission before answering me. "You can bring your aunt too, if you're nervous about being alone with me." Grace snorted.

"Why would either of us be nervous about being alone with you? Even if you pulled a gun on us, all we'd need to do was have Jane start shaking from side to side, you'd forget what you had been doing as your eyes followed the bouncing boobies. Do you have enough money to buy us all something to eat? These joints are usually pretty expensive."

"I already knew what Jane could do to distract people. What do you do, insult them into a stupor?" I got a tiny little laugh from Jane, then Grace laughed too. "I don't have to pay money, I just sign for stuff, whatever I want. My uncle gets a tax write off for it, so he likes it when I do a lot of charging in the restaurant."

"Okay, sure then. You lead the way. Are we dressed all right to go into the restaurant? We could eat at the snack bar too if you can sign there too."

"You're fine, dressed just like you are. People come in with only bathing suits in the summer, so there's no dress code. Did I hear you saying you were here to get jobs? I didn't know they were still hiring."

"Not here. We're applying for camp counseling jobs at a golf camp for the summer after this one. The place isn't even built yet."

"Do you go to school around here?" We were walking up the stairs to the clubhouse restaurant. I'd gone to the car with the girls so they could put their clubs in the trunk. They were driving an old Mustang, and the back sides were all rusted out and pitted from the salt on the roads during winter.

"Jane does, over in Bolling. I'm visiting her. We both used to live in Topeka, but she had to move, because her dad got another job. You must live close by?"

"Around three or four miles away. I grew up in Bolling though. I just moved here last year."

"So, are you one of them rich kids? Mommy and Daddy buy you whatever you want?" I smiled at her. Jane was the quiet one, but Grace never seemed to let up.

"Did you ever hear the one about not biting the hand that feeds you?"

"Oh, am I supposed to kiss your ass just because you're springing for a hamburger?"

"Did you come here to interview with Mrs. Parsons or Mr. Chalmers?"

"Mrs. Parsons. Right Jane, isn't that her name? Do you know her?"

"Not by that name, I usually just call her Mama."

"Oh fuck! Did you hear him, Jane. Now what are we going to do?" I laughed and looked over at Jane.

"I'm sure Jane still has a chance to get hired. She's nice, polite, and quiet. If your interview was with my Uncle Bunny, Mr. Chalmers, you might have had a chance too. He likes girls with spunk." I looked back over at Jane. "He likes girls with boobies that jiggle too though. What grade are you in, Jane?"

"I'm going to be a freshman at the community college in Bolling. We both are. We graduate in twelve more days from high school. Is she really your mother? You don't have to say anything bad about Grace, do you? We really want to work together next summer if we can."

"Don't kiss his ass, Jane. I'm not that hard up for a fucking job." Our waiter arrived just as Grace exhaled this last expletive from her sweet little lips. He never even blinked. He was a college kid that I had talked to quite a bit when I came up on slow days to get some lunch. His name was Frank, and he had worked summers at the restaurant since he was in high school. I think this was either his fourth or fifth summer working there.

"Hi Frank. Let me have the steak sandwich again, rare, with the fries, and I'll have a Coke. Give the good looking quiet one whatever she wants, but just bring some of those little soup crackers for Miss Personality here. She isn't hungry now, because she takes her main nourishment when she rides her broom at night." Frank laughed, handing both of them menus, and taking their drink orders before he left.

"How old are you, you obnoxious little shit?" Grace was smiling, to take most of the sting out of her words.

"I'm almost sixteen. How old are you?"

"I'm almost nineteen, and so is Jane. That waiter is cute. Does he live near here too?"

"He lives in Ridgeline, but he goes to school in Lawrence. I think he's going to be a senior in the fall. His name is Frank."

"He's very cute. Tell him I'd go out with him."

"I didn't think you liked guys. Well, at first I thought you were one, but after I found out you weren't, I kind of thought you might like girls."

"Well, I don't. The hair is like this to keep it out of my way. I'm a golfer. Did you think Jane liked girls too?"

"Well, I was hoping she didn't. I didn't mind either way about you though. I think Frank likes girls with longer hair, and with boobies bigger than his."

"With this shirt, you can't really tell, but mine are big enough. You know what they say, anything more than a mouthful."

"Who says that? I never heard anyone say that." Just then, Frank came back with our three drinks. Jane ordered the BLT with a side order of fries, and Grace had the club sandwich, also with fries.

"Grace says you're cute, Frank, and she'd go out with you if you wanted. She says she has boobies hidden under her shirt, but you couldn't prove it by me." Frank just smiled and then left without saying anything, or acknowledging he'd heard anything I'd said. Grace gave me a dirty look, but she didn't say anything to me. "So Jane, how good are you at golf? What's your best score on a good course?"

"I carded a 66 at Alvamar, over in Lawrence in this year's sectional. It was from the member's men's tees, and I had a tap in eagle on the par five fifth hole too. It was a par 72, and a tough course with the wind that day. I was the medalist that day, for both the boys and the girls."

"How about you, Grace? Can you play?" Grace just sat there, looking right at me, but not saying anything. I think I must have hurt her feelings. "Don't worry about what I said to Frank. He knows I was just kidding. We kid around all the time. You aren't mad that I mad fun of your boobs, are you? You've got more than I do. Well, at least as much as I do." I finally got her to laugh again. Frank came back a few minutes later with our orders. Both girls ate like they were really hungry. I noticed Grace eying my steak sandwich. "You want a bite? Go ahead." I handed her half my sandwich, expecting her to take a bite and pass it back. Instead, she ate the whole thing and then laughed at me again.

"You fell for the oldest trick in the book. I knew you would too." I signaled Frank, and ordered another steak sandwich for myself. Ten minutes later, I took half of it, and then offered the other half to Grace. She blushed, telling me no thank you. I offered it to Jane then, telling her it would just go to waste if she didn't eat it, so she took it, and made short work of it too. After I signed the check, we got up and left the dining area. I took them through the main vestibule and showed them Mama's women's club champion trophy plaque. I also told them about the 62 she fired on the country club course. While we waited, I described the layout that Mama was having built, and how she was very interested in offering good golf instruction to young golfers, especially girl golfers. When I finished describing what it would look like when it was all finished, I looked over at Grace, and she had a dreamy, far away look on her face.

"Look who's drooling now, Grace." She pretended like she was going to slap my arm, but she didn't.

"How much is all that going to cost her? It must be an awful lot?" Grace really looked like she wanted to know. I didn't think it was any secret, so I told her.

"The contracts come to Twenty seven million, plus a little bit more, but that doesn't include furnishings and some other things Mama still needs to buy. She kept adding things, until my dad and uncle were starting to pull out their hair."

"Are you really that rich?"

"I'm not, but I guess they are. They were born rich, except for my father, he had to earn all of his, starting from scratch."

"Do you live in a really big house, with servants and everything?"

"The house is pretty big. We don't have any real servants, just a couple of girls who come in and help Gerta with the housework. There's also a woman named Elizabeth, she helps Gerta in the kitchen too."

"Fuck, and you just go around buying anything you want to? If I had your dough, I'd be out playing golf everyday, sun up to sun down. In the winter, I'd go to Florida or Hawaii and play. What do you think Jane, could you stand living like that? Shake your tits at the kid some more, maybe he'll take us home and adopt us."

"Do both of you drive? And can you work this summer too?" They both nodded at me that they did, and they could. "We're going to need drivers this summer, when the real construction starts. "We're catering the construction crews lunches, and taking things out to the different job sites. My Uncle Bunny figured this out so he could sub-contract, instead of hiring a general contractor. I could talk to Mama and Uncle Bunny for you, Jane. I'd need to just talk to Uncle Bunny about you Grace. Mama isn't fond of girls that are too loud and vocal. She prefers the quieter ones. Uncle Bunny likes the live wires though, and you're definitely a live wire."

Just then, Mama walked in through the front way, looking for Jane and Grace. Instead of having a regular interview, I talked Mama into playing nine holes with the two girls and me. I figured that, once she saw the way they both hit the ball, she'd be much more likely to want to hire them as counselors for the girls camps. I made sure that Grace's bag went on my cart. I didn't want Mama to get too much exposure to her right away. I thought Grace would remind her too much of Bea when she opened her mouth.

We all played from the red. Neither girl had ever played the course before. Grace shot a thirty eight, Jane had a thirty seven, Mama had a thirty five, and I shot a forty, which was good for me. Mama liked both girls, even though she told me that Grace was too quiet. She told them she would definitely want both of them for the camp counseling jobs the following summer, but told me that Uncle Bunny was the one doing the hiring for the catering and the site deliveries. I walked both girls over to their car and gave them my phone number, and had them write down theirs. I told them I'd talk to Uncle Bunny about them, and call them with things like hours and pay.

I had a good time with them. I had been pretty lonely just going out taking my golf lesson and hitting golf balls every day. This was the first real contact I'd had with anyone that was near my own age, since school had gotten out.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 2

When we got back home, I phoned Uncle Bunny at his office number. I told him about Jane and Grace, making it a special point to tell him how much Grace's personality reminded me of Bea's. I told him that the girls both needed summer jobs, and that I had told them about us needing drivers for the construction site.

"Kenny, I can't just hire people without knowing anything about them, or their qualifications. These are responsible positions, we'll need responsible people to fill them. What are their work histories? What do their driving records look like? We'd first need to find out the answers to those questions before we start thinking about offering them any type of position with us."

"They are both high school seniors, and they graduate in a week and a half. Mama already hired both of them to be counselors out at the girl's golf camps for next summer. I was hoping you'd hire them to help me while I'm getting over Brenda. They could be my friends, and they both play really good golf."

"Are you suggesting that I hire these two to take Brenda's place, Kenny?"

"No. I meant they could be my friends, so I wasn't always thinking about Brenda. They'd take my mind off of her. I've been going out to the club a lot, but Mama's been busy with the learning center. I haven't actually been playing that much. We played today though, with Mama, and that's why she hired them. I told them I'd find out how much the work pays, and how many hours they'd have to work."

"I've budgeted each of the driving positions for eight dollars an hour, but this was with the idea of getting experienced, professional drivers. Two high school girls, I'm not sure they would have the maturity to do the work. Also, these construction crews aren't the most gentlemanly people you're likely to meet. I'm not sure if your friends could handle some of the things the men are likely to say to them."

I'm not worried about Grace, but I'll ask Jane if it would bother her. If they have a good driving record, would you hire them? Please?"

"They'd have to work from six in the morning until two thirty, Monday through Friday. I'd need their driver's license numbers and for them to fill out applications. They need to start by June fifteenth. Kenny, don't make a habit of asking me to do you these type of favors. This is probably going to turn right around and bite me on my ass."

"Thanks Uncle Bunny. I'm sure they'll both be good workers. Where would I take them to get the applications? Do you just want the license number, or do you need to have the actual licenses?"

"Bring them by my office. Tell Deanna in reception and she'll get you what you need. Have her take copies of the licenses too. Make sure both these girls know that we're hiring them to work, not to be friends with you."

"Hey, Uncle Bunny, after they start, we should all get together, to play some golf. Don't bet with them though, they play as good as Mama does. You'll like Grace, she's pretty funny, and she swears even more than you do. Don't tell Mama that, she thinks Grace is too quiet, and I don't want her finding out she isn't."

After I got off the phone with Uncle Bunny, I called the number that Grace had given me. It was for Jane's house in Bolling. I let it ring, but there wasn't any answer. Finally, I gave up and hung up the phone. I was really counting on at least Jane taking the Job. I didn't know how Grace could do it, living up in Topeka. Maybe she could stay with Jane. Another problem was that car of Jane's. It practically wouldn't start when they were leaving. Jane had to open up the hood and make Grace stick her hand over the air intake to the carburetor before she could get it going. I only knew what it was by listening to Jane explaining it to Grace. When the car started, it sure didn't sound like any of ours. Jane didn't seem that worried by it though, so maybe it was a better car than I thought.

I was downstairs in the kitchen with Gerta when Hans came in. He was pretty good with cars, so I asked him about Jane's car problems. He said something about a choke, and said that he could fix it if I brought it by. Gerta just looked at me, and shook her head at Hans. I laughed. Hans always said he could fix anything, and usually he could, like that problem out in the garage with the fire. A few months before, Gerta had a problem with our toaster that Hans fixed. Mama would usually eat toast in the morning even if she wasn't too hungry, so Gerta was upset that it was broken. Hans went out into the area in the garage where his workbench was to work on it. He was gone all morning, and when he came back in, he smiled and plugged in the toaster.

"See, good as new." He took a little bow and left the kitchen. Gerta waited until he left before letting out one of her derisive snorts. We toasted up two slices of bread and it worked perfectly.

"It works good, Gerta. He fixed it good. Why did you laugh at him."

"It works as good as new because it is new. The old toaster had a chip on the handle from the last time he took it out to shake out the crumbs and he dropped it. He went into town and bought a new one, after he couldn't make the old one work."

"Oh, are you going to tell him you know?"

"No, never! Hans always likes to think he is smarter than me. Me not needing to prove him wrong, proves him wrong." She and I laughed. It was true, Hans had said things to me, when we were alone, about not knowing what Gerta would do after he was gone. It looked to me like Gerta would do all right. I'd be more worried about Hans, because he relied on her for a lot. She did all of his remembering for him. He'd come in mumbling about people moving his things, and when he told Gerta what was missing, she'd always say something that reminded him of where he'd left it. They were a great team though, and it wasn't that easy to keep our big house running so smoothly.

At dinner, I told my dad about Jane and Grace, and about calling Uncle Bunny on their behalf for a job this summer. He was giving me a lecture about not using my influence to interfere with other people's projects, when Mama cut him off, telling him that my help had been invaluable to her earlier. She told him about following my suggestion for a much better, and enjoyable, method of interviewing her counseling applicants. Dad kind of sniffed, then he repeated his disagreement with me calling Uncle Bunny, but he softened his criticism by saying it wasn't so bad if I didn't do things like that too often. Mama nodded, and seemed quite happy with dad's concession.

Dad was really getting into high gear with the way things were shaping up for the new company they had put together. He told us the more he found out about the other two acquisitions, the better they sounded to him. He talked about having already identified three or four people who were way too good for their current responsibilities. He always said that a company is as much about the people that work for it, as it is about the products they put out. He had found this one young man from the Delaware acquisition, that he had already promoted, and moved to Bolling. He was being groomed to take over marketing for the whole company. Dad was excited about this, claiming that he saw a real opportunity to open new markets with this man. Whenever dad spoke of growing or making more money, Mama responded with smiles, and her eyes would light up. I was happy for her, but it reminded me, when this happened, of how Brenda used to get whenever she talked about being rich, or marrying someone who was.

After dinner, I excused myself and went up to my room to try Jane's house again. This time she answered.

"Hi, this is Kenny, from the country club today? Is this Jane?"

"Hi, yeah, this is Jane. We just got back. Miss Piggy took a dump on the way back."

"From The Muppets?"

"My car. That's what I named her. My engine froze up. My father thinks it might be terminal. We had to be towed home. Lucky my brother, Jimmy, knows this guy, so it only cost us fifteen dollars."

"I talked to my uncle, and he says he'll give you those jobs if your driving record is good, and you fill out an application. You have to start work at six in the morning though, and it's in Ridgeline."

"Damn, did he say what it pays?"

"He said eight dollars an hour."

"No shit? For how many hours?"

"Was that you or Grace who asked that?"

"It was me. I swear too, Kenny. I try not to around Grace, to set her an example, because she swears too much."

"I just never heard you swear before. Uncle Bunny says it is Monday through Friday, from six until two thirty."

"Uncle Bunny?"

"That's what we call him. He's a lawyer, but almost everybody calls him Bunny, not just me."

"This really sucks, Kenny. I can't believe I'm turning down eight bucks an hour, but I don't have any way to get over there. When does it start, this job?"

"On the fifteenth of June. Does Grace have a car?"

"You're kidding, right? Grace has her clubs, and three nice outfits to play golf in, or to work behind the counter in a pro shop. I won't mention how she got her clubs, but let's just say some guy wishes he had closed his trunk before he took off running for the bathroom."

"She stole them?"

"You'll have to ask her. I should learn to keep my big mouth shut. She isn't like that, Kenny, not really, but she's had some very bad breaks lately. Her clubs were taken away by her folks, and when she graduates, her folks are kicking her out of her house. She was visiting me to see if Jimmy would be able to help her out when she graduates."

"Your brother, Jimmy?"

"Yeah. He and Grace had this thing going, before we had to move over here. Jimmy has this other girl now, and he doesn't want to switch back to Grace. I don't think Grace wanted to either, but she's really desperate. That's one of the reasons she was so bitchy today."

"I'm sorry about her problems. I kind of liked some of the stuff she said, it was pretty funny. I'm sorry about your car too. I talked to Hans, and he said it was something to do with your choke. He said he could probably fix it. He takes care of all of our cars, and they work good. Our limo is pretty old, and he keeps it running really well."

"You have your own mechanic?"

"He's more than a mechanic. He's Gerta's husband, and they live with us. He takes care of lots of things. He and Gerta are in charge here, they do whatever they feel like doing."

"Well, thanks a lot for everything, anyway. We both loved playing that course today. You mother is a very good golfer. Grace was saying we should have apologized to you about laughing when you told us we could give her a game. Don't tell her about my car, because we'll need those jobs next summer too. Thanks for the lunches too, and for not getting mad at Grace when she ate your sandwich like that. I wish I could take that job, but there isn't any way I could get over to Ridgeline at six in the morning."

"That's too bad. I was hoping we could play golf when you got off work. I don't like playing alone."

"Isn't that club private?"

"Yes, but members can have guests. You'd be my guest, Grace too if she could come."

"Did you ask your mom about this?"

"I don't have to ask her. I already know she'd let me do that. We do it all the time with other people, why not you and Grace?"

"I'll give you a call when we can make it over there, and we'll play a round."

"That's even better, I was only thinking golf though."

"I knew you'd say that. I've heard that before though, from guys that really meant it."

"Keep my number, and call me if your car isn't that bad. I won't say anything yet to Uncle Bunny. I don't think he's hiring yet anyway. Call me this week though, even if nothing changes."

I went back downstairs after I got off the phone. I was pretty disappointed, and I felt bad for Jane, and even worse for Grace. I looked in the library, but no one was in there. The door to dad's study was open, so I knew he wasn't in there. I went out in the kitchen, and Gerta and Hans were eating.

"Where did Mama go?"

"They both went upstairs. I think they were turning in early." Hans said something in German and Gerta slapped his shoulder, playfully. "Your Mama, Kenny, she's been in a much better mood with this golf thing she's making. More energy she is having to do things. I like seeing this, because then she eats. When she eats, she is better."

"Gerta, do you think Mama is going to need Hans tomorrow?"

"I don't know. She didn't say anything. Usually she tells me if she needs him for something. Mr. Parsons, he doesn't always give us warning. I don't think she needs him. You need to go somewhere, to the country club or something? I can drive too, Kenny. If Hans can't take you, Gerta will."

"I talked to my friend. She's having more problems with her car, and it looks like she can't take this job for us because of it. I thought Hans could drive over with me and take a look. It would really help her out if Hans could fix it for her."

"I can fix anything, Kenny, but cars, those are my specialty. Where does she live?"

"That's a problem too. She lives in Bolling somewhere. I'd need to get her address before we went over there. The other thing is, I don't think she has much money. I've got almost three hundred dollars, but I don't know if that's enough to fix it. She said it took a dump, so I guess she thinks it's pretty serious. She had to get it towed over to her house today."

"You find out if your Mama needs me tomorrow. If she doesn't, we'll go take a look. I know some people in Bolling, with a repair garage that fixes good cars, good German mechanics, who can fix any car, just like I can. We'll get it fixed. This girl we're helping, she is your new special friend? Like those other two girls were?"

"No. She's just a girl I met today, but one that I'd like to help if we can."

"Hans, Kenny isn't like you. His mind isn't always on the same thing." Gerta had a stern sound to her voice. She was always protective of me, and also, she didn't want Hans trying to help me do too many sex things with girls. Gerta would do little things to help me, but she wouldn't try to get me to do them. Hans would. The more I did with girls, the better Hans liked it. Sometimes, it seemed like Hans was more interested in what I did with my girls than he was in taking care of Gerta. Gerta thought it was okay for him to think about those things, as long as he came to her to do them.

At breakfast the next morning, I asked Mama if I could borrow Hans for the day. When she asked me what for, I told her about Jane's car, and then I got into all the problems that Grace was having at home. I told her that Jane wasn't going to be able to take the job this summer without having a running car.

"What is your primary reason for wanting to assist them, Kenny? Are you trying to get them beholden to you, and in your debt?"

"I'm trying to help them. I'd like to have someone to play golf with, and you're going to be busy a lot. Sometimes, I just like to help out when I can, and I think they both need some help."

"Tell Hans that he is authorized to charge any expenses on the household credit cards. Explain that I want Jane's car in good mechanical repair. Find out more about Grace's situation. She's such a quiet girl too. Ask Gerta if she knows any family close by that might need some live in assistance, such as an au pair or a driver. We'll get it sorted out for her, don't worry. I speak to Gerta about you often, you know. She has often remarked on your good hearted nature. I place the greatest trust in Gerta's judgment, Kenny. Tell her to let me know when she finds something suitable for Grace."

"I need to cancel my golf lesson with Dave this morning. Do you think he'll give me a makeup lesson tomorrow?"

"Kenny, I'm sure he would. This isn't to be generally known, Kenny, but Dave is going to be joining us out at the golf center as soon as we get close to opening. I've got a deep respect for Dave's love of the game. He isn't the greatest teacher, but he's a true lover of golf, and he is known, and well thought of, by almost everyone. He will be in charge of our cadre of instructors. Would you like me to call him for you? I need to speak with him on another matter as well."

I went upstairs and phoned Jane. I told her a story about needing to come to Bolling for something anyway, and asked her if it would be all right for Hans and I to stop by and take a look at her car. She tried telling me that the car wasn't worth looking at, and that she was convinced that the motor was dead. I kept after her to get her address. Finally, reluctantly, she gave it to me.

Hans didn't want to take the limo, so we took his car instead. It was a German sedan, a white 1966 Mercedes. Even though it was about twenty years old, it ran like new. Hans told me it had two hundred and ten thousand miles on it and the engine was just getting well broken in. He said it would get about a million miles, if it was properly cared for. I gave him the address, and Hans said he knew where it was.

It wasn't hard to find, because it was in a trailer park. I'd never been in a trailer before, but I always thought having one was a neat idea. You could hook it up to a car and drive away when you needed to move. These trailers didn't look like any of them would be moving soon. We found Jane's space, and her trailer looked like it definitely belonged in that park. I recognized the blue Mustang that was sitting up on the grass beside the trailer. When she opened the door, she looked ashamed. I felt really bad for her, because I knew what it felt like to be ashamed of where you lived.

"Hi Jane. This is Hans. He said he can fix any car. Hans, this is Jane, my friend, and a really good golfer." They shook hands, and Jane came out of the trailer with her key ring in her hand. All three of us walked over to her car, and Hans got her to open the hood. He looked at the engine, and then underneath the car, before coming up and saying two words.

"Ist kaput."

"What did he say?"

"He said he'll need to have it towed over to his friend's garage. Right Hans?" Hans looked at me, and so did Jane. She knew pretty much what he'd said, enough to know it wasn't what I told her.

"Kenny, I know my car's as dead as dog crap. I don't need your pity, or your charity. I'm poor, but I'm not stupid."

"I didn't say you were. I'm not the way you think I am either, Jane. I've had plenty of times when I wished I could get some help."

"Like when, when your brand new thousand dollar set of golf clubs got dirty, and the assistant pro wasn't available to clean them for you? Or, when the waiter brought your nine dollar steak sandwich to you, and it was done medium, instead of rare the way you asked for it? Is that the kind of help you needed?" The look on her face was one that I recognized too. It was the look on my face when I used to watch these stories on television, the ones where the happy kids come running down the stairs to their beautifully decorated Christmas tree. Always, that tree was piled high with brightly wrapped Christmas presents underneath. It was undisguised envy, tinged with self-loathing. It was her hating what she was saying to me, but being unable not to say it. I knew that feeling too.

"A year ago, I was a lot worse off than you are now, Jane. The life I have now isn't what I'm used to having. I used to live at St. Cecelia's, the orphanage over by the college? A year ago, I'd have gladly changed places with you, if it meant I could live just like you do now. I should have said something to you guys yesterday, but I didn't want to spoil all the fun that Grace was having when she thought she was giving it to the spoiled rich kid."

"How did that happen, were you adopted?"

"The short answer is yes, I was, but the long story is a lot more complicated than that. The reason I said anything was because I didn't want you to feel like you needed to be proud with me. I already know I'm not better than you or anyone else. I wanted to help though, and so did Hans and my mom. That's the only reason we came over today, to try to help you. My Uncle Bunny told me once that I should never be ashamed of not being born rich. I'm telling you the same thing. I want to help you."

"My car can't be helped."

"Well, that's true, but Hans is going to fix it, the same way he fixed Gerta's toaster before, right Hans?"

"She knew, didn't she? I threw the damn toaster against the wall because it was all burnt up inside. I buy the new one and think she won't notice. Ha! Gerta she sees everything I try to do. Maybe it is all her ghosts, they tell her these things." At the mention of ghosts, Jane's eyes widened.

"Gerta is Hans wife. She believes in ghosts and evil spirits. You'll like her if you meet her. Why don't we all get into Hans car and go find you a new toaster? Hans, Mama said to use the household credit cards to take care of this. She said she wanted Jane's car to be in good mechanical repair. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't care how you arrange for it to happen. Even if she does, we'll just go see Uncle Bunny. He has a lot of the money that mom and dad gave me. I'll get it from him, and pay her back."

"Your mama already told Gerta to do whatever it takes. I know an honest used car lot owner. He's German, so I know he won't try to cheat us." Even Hans laughed when he said that. I opened the back door for Jane, and then I got in on the front passenger side. I didn't want to get in the back with Jane, and have her think I wanted to be paid for helping her. Hans drove over to his friend's car lot.

"When we go inside, Kenny, you let me do the talking, okay? Don't talk to him about price, Jane. That's my job to do that. We'll find something that runs good, not the stuff he'll try to get rid of. We aren't here today to do him any favors." Jane and I both nodded to him, letting him know that we were going to let him handle everything. When we got out of Han's car, a big, heavy set, red faced man, came hurrying out of this little building on the back of the lot. As soon as he recognized Hans though, his pace slowed, and his smile grew. Soon, the German words started coming out. Both of them were shouting at each other. I couldn't understand what they were yelling, but I was pretty sure both of them were shouting out good natured insults at the other one. They were laughing, and then, when they got close, they started hugging, and patting each other on the back.

"My friend, Hansi, what brings you here today? Are you finally throwing that old gas guzzler of yours away, and wanting to replace it with one of my one owner cream puffs?"

"It is just getting broken in, Bernhard. Why would I want to trade it for one of these heaps on this glorified wrecking yard you have here? Do any of these actually run? This car is for my niece, Bernhard, so try hard not to cheat me too badly. Jane, Kenny, this is Bernhard Schroeder. From time to time, he will allow someone to purchase a car from him without them having to be cheated. I'm hoping today will be one of those times." We both shook hands with him. From the leer he gave Jane, I had a suspicion that he thought Jane was Hans girlfriend, not his niece. I noticed Hans did nothing to correct that thought. I didn't say anything either. I had noticed, when Jane got into the back of Hans car, she wasn't wearing a bra today either. I was sure both Hans and Bernhard had noticed it as well.

"I have a new, late model Audi, only seven years old. Good engineering, and I could make you a price, since it is for your very charming niece."

"Not the one Heinz told me about? The one that you've had sitting here since before Christmas? Bernie, don't force me to go out to some stranger to find her a car. I beg you, don't force me to shame myself that way."

"I have a four year old Toyota. A four cylinder, that gets terrific gas mileage. It has about ninety thousand miles, but the engine runs strong. Perfect for a young lady needing to get herself around, without spending too much on petrol."

"Let us see that one. Is it priced good, or are you going to try to gouge me?"

"I'm in the car thirteen hundred, Hans. It's a nice car, but people around here, they like to buy American. I buy the foreign stuff cheaper. Only in this wonderful country, is the best cheaper than the 'scheisse'."

"If the car is good, then a thousand dollars wouldn't be too much for me to pay. Are we going to see this car, or did you expect us to just take your word that it is good?"

"You didn't hear me apparently, my very good friend. I said I had paid thirteen hundred. Since we are good friends, I was thinking of asking fifteen hundred only, but not less than that. I can't do that and still pay my overhead."

"I come here looking to bring some business to my good friend, and you would take advantage, of me? How many people have I sent here in the past twenty years for you to fleece? Never once did I ask you how much you made. I was just happy to send some business my friend's way."

"Oh, please, Hans. Those people never had any money or even halfway good credit. I helped them as a personal favor to you. Maybe one or two had decent credit, but even them I took good care of, because they had come to me recommended by you."

"Bernhard, I don't want to quibble over a few dollars with you. Let me see the car. If I am going to get treated the same as some stranger coming in from the bus station, then that is how it will have to be. Bring out this car that you're so anxious to be rid of."

It was a white four door Toyota. The body looked pretty nice, and it only had sixty thousand miles, not the ninety that Bernhard had claimed at first. They turned on the engine, then both of them put their heads under the hood and listened, while Bernhard revved up the motor. Hans and Bernhard started talking about things that were way over my head, compression and steering noise, and a host of other things. Finally, Hans told Jane and I to get in the back seat. Even though I was six feet tall, I fit easily into the back seat, which surprised me. It was roomier than it had looked.

Hans drove, and Bernhard was in the front passenger seat. They spoke in quick, clipped German, and both were very serious as Hans put the car through its paces. At one point, Hans pulled up into the side street and went up two or three blocks before stopping, and then putting the car in reverse. After doing that, he gunned the engine, then we went straight back, pretty fast. After that, he said something, and we drove back to the car lot. We all got out of the car and went inside his little shack. With the four of us there, we barely fit inside.

"How much you want to pay me, Hans?"

"Whatever you want to charge me. It's your car, and this is your business. Do you think I'm worried that you'd cheat me?"

""Twelve hundred, plus tax and transfer. That's as good as I can do, Hans."

"Very fair, thank you. Do you like this car, Jane? It seems in very good condition to me. It should last you for a while."

"How am I supposed to pay for it? I don't have any money."

"It's all paid for. I just wanted to be sure you liked it. We can look some more if you want to, but this is probably the best one here right now. It gets good gas mileage, and you'll be putting on a lot of miles driving over to the site every morning."

"How do I pay you back?"

"Talk to Kenny about that. I had my orders, and I've done what I was supposed to. I've made certain that your car is in good mechanical operation. I know Kenny wants to go play some golf today, so can you get your clubs and run him over to the club? I'll finish up with Bernhard, and then drop off to see some people before I need to head back home." Hans reached over and took the keys to the Toyota and held them up for Bernhard. When he got the nod of assent from Bernhard, he passed the keys to Jane." Bring the car back to Bernhard tomorrow, so he can take care of all the paperwork and the registration. Bernie, give her your card, in case she has any problems with the car, or forgets where this lot is."

We both thanked Hans and shook hands with Mr. Schroeder. After we got in Jane's new car and left, I looked over at her. She was crying.

"You don't like white cars? You can have it painted if you want."

"Why are you doing this? People don't spend that much money without a reason for it."

"I had a reason. I wanted to be your friend, and to help you out so you could take that job. Now, we can play golf, and I won't have to play by myself."

"Couldn't you find someone closer to play golf with you?"

"I guess, but they all wear bras."

"That's not funny, Kenny. Are you expecting me to put out for you?"

"No, and I was joking. You can wear a bra if you want to. Are you going to come play golf with me today?"

"That's another thing. I need to go pick up Grace, and get her something to eat. She's staying at my aunt's house, and she needs to get something to eat."

"We'll take her with us too. We can have lunch at the club and then play eighteen. We also need to go by Uncle Bunny's office, to fill out the applications, and let them take a copy of your driver's licenses. Do you think Grace can stay with you for the summer, so she can get to work? Mama said that Gerta could help her find a place to live probably, if she helped someone with driving or being an au pair."

We got to Jane's aunt's house. It was really an apartment, and it wasn't much better than Jane's trailer park. Jane asked me to wait in the car, then she ran over and went up the stairs to the second floor. She stopped, knocked on a door, then, when it was opened, she went inside. Five minutes later, Grace and Jane came out. Grace carried her golf bag and Jane carried a suitcase for her. They opened the trunk and I heard them both talking in excited whispers as Jane related how she had gotten her new car and told her about the summer driving jobs and the pay they'd get. I heard the door behind me close, and turned my head to say hi to Grace. A second later, Jane got in on the driver's side and we were off. Five minutes later, we stopped in front of Jane's trailer and she went inside to get her golf clubs. She came out, locked up again, and then put her clubs in the trunk too.

We drove away, heading over towards Ridgeline. We had been gone about five minutes before Grace spoke to me. When I'd said hi to her, she hadn't responded.

"What are you expecting for being so nice to us?" Grace asked this with a softer voice than I was used to from her. The previous day, her voice had been louder, and almost everything she said was belligerent.

"I'm not expecting anything. I'm hoping that we can be friends. You both are good golfers. I'm trying to break eighty this summer, and it's more fun to play with other people. I was glad to be able to get some help for Jane, and I'm hoping my mother can find you a nice place to live for the summer, so you can work and make some money for school too. You don't have to do anything to thank me, if that's what you're afraid of.

"You had your own personal mechanic drive over to Jane's to look at her car, and then he went out and bought her this one, why?"

"So she could have a way to get back and forth to work. Why do you think it's so strange? Haven't you ever wanted to help someone, just to help them? Didn't you tell Jane she should shake her boobs at me, so I'd take you guys home and adopt you?"

"Is that what you're doing, adopting us?"

"No, I'm befriending you, if you'll let me. I got very lucky myself recently, and I'm appreciative of that. I want to help other people's lives get better if I can. Not everyone, because I know that isn't possible, but some people."

"Say that I was willing to accept all this this help from you, but I decided for myself, that I wanted to take you somewhere, and then fuck your brains out, just to say thank you. Would you go with me?"

"No. I just want us to be friends. I'd rather you taught me how to hit my six iron as far as I hit my five iron now, and how to hit balls that curve left and right."

"I'm going to go against everything I've ever learned in my whole life, and try to believe you, rich boy. I'm not a believer in the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus isn't a real person to me either. I expect you'll find some way to screw me over, but I'm too desperate now to resist the temptation of hoping you're for real. I'm going home tomorrow, but I'll be back in ten days. I'll be expecting you to come through for me, with a place for me to stay, and this job you've been telling Jane about. If this turns out to all be some kind of bullshit, I'm going to be very very pissed."

"You're welcome." I knew that I better not try joking around with her right then. Desperate people don't appreciate jokes, and drowning people hate it when the life preserver starts to sink. It didn't matter to me that Grace had her doubts about what I might do. I knew that her situation was going to be greatly improved. Maybe not nearly as much as mine had been, but to her, it would seem like it, and that was what I wanted for her.

We stopped off at Uncle Bunny's office, and took care of the paperwork for the driving job. Uncle Bunny wasn't in the office. We drove out to the club and I went into the pro shop and signed in for myself and two guests. We ate a quick lunch, all of us having the steak sandwiches. It went quickly because we wanted to get out on the course as soon as possible. We all loved to play golf.

Jane and Grace took one cart and I had my own. The golf was a lot of fun. Both girls were very serious and intense with their golf games. It was a very good thing that Mama wasn't there to hear 'too quiet' Grace when her approach shot hit a tree on the fourteenth, and dropped straight down onto the lip of the green side bunker. She managed to blast out, but made a double bogey when her first putt went by the hole by at least ten feet. She was still steamed about catching that branch with her approach. Three putting hadn't helped.

I finished with an eighty six, not scoring as well as I should have. I hadn't been sharp with anything for the whole round, so the eighty six wasn't that disappointing to me. Jane made a seventy four and Grace wound up with a seventy six. She could have scored better than she did, but she liked taking big risks for small rewards. Jane played more conservatively, and her approach irons were even sharper than Mama's. I could see her shooting a sixty six on this course too, after she played it a few times, and learned some of the local knowledge. After playing, I had Jane drive me home. As soon as they saw the house, both girls got quiet. I remembered how I'd felt the first time I had laid eyes on it. We parked in the circle, and Grace and Jane spent five minutes looking over the fountain in the middle of the parking circle. I had thought it was pretty cool too, the first time I'd seen it.

"Come on in, and I'll show you the house, and you can both meet Gerta." I gave them both the grand tour. Upstairs, when they saw Uncle Bunny's room, they couldn't believe it was a guest bedroom, and that he only used it five or six times a year.

"I really would fuck you to live in this room." Grace loved the balcony and the view, just like I did. We were out looking over the town when she made her comment. I was smiling at her, but she was very serious. We went back inside, just as Jane was coming out of the bathroom.

"Look at this closet, Grace, and then go look at the bathroom. This room is three times as big as the mobile home, at least three times. Look at the bed. Is that king sized, Kenny?"

"I think so. It's the same size as the one in my room. My parents room is even bigger than this one. It has two separate bedrooms, a living room, two big closets, with two huge bathrooms. The bathrooms are each the size of this one. Mine's a little smaller, but my closet is as big." We left Uncle Bunny's room, and went to see mine. Everything was going fine until they looked at my bathtub. For some reason, my tub was raised up on a platform in the corner, and it was deeper than the other ones in the house. I'd never used it, but Brenda and Emily had really raved about how deep it was. Grace went up on the platform and looked inside.

"Jane, this is a fucking Whirlpool bath. Where's the controls, Kenny?"

"I don't know. I've never used it. What's a Whirlpool, is it like a Jacuzzi?"

"You never used it? Are you nuts? Can I fill it up just to see if the nozzles work?"

"Do you know how to? I can get Gerta up here to show us. She knows how to do it, I bet."

It took about fifteen minutes before the water was high enough to satisfy Grace. While she was waiting, she found what she said was the control panel and showed me the three switches. One was some kind of heater and timer, one was something that controlled one group of nozzles, and the other one controlled the rest. She turned everything on and put her hand down to feel one of the nozzle openings. Soon, Grace had Jane up on the platform with her, putting her hand in the water and feeling the nozzle pressure. They started talking in whispers and laughing. I heard Grace tell Jane to ask me.

"Kenny, Grace wants me to ask you if we can use your jacuzzi, just to try it. We'll clean up after ourselves, and make sure everything gets turned back off."

"I don't mind. There's two clean towels on the rack. Do you need anything else?" They looked at each other and Grace said something to Jane. Jane shook her head no, but Grace said something else to her. I saw Jane shaking her head side to side, and both of them were looking at me. I turned around ready to go.

"Where are you going? Don't you want to watch?" Grace was smiling, but her voice made it sound like she was daring me to stay. I figured she was testing me, to see if I meant it about just being friends with them.

"I've got to go see Gerta and see what time dinner is. You guys can stay for dinner right?"

"Are you a queer or something? I thought you liked girls, from the way you kept staring at Jane's knockers. We both want you to stay, don't we Jane?"

"I can stay or not, it wouldn't make any difference. I'm not gay, and I like looking at girls too. I don't have to look at every girl I see though. I don't want you thinking I need to be rewarded for anything, and that isn't why I wanted to do it. I don't want you thinking this would make me want to do anything more than I'd do without it."

"There's a reason why we want you to stay, Kenny. There's something that Jane wants you to know. We both want you to stay, all right?" I went over and sat down on the edge of the platform, about five feet from where they both were standing. As soon as I sat, they started taking off their shirts, and then their shorts. Jane had light pink panties on and Grace wasn't wearing any panties at all. Neither had bras, and Grace had very small breasts with quarter sized areola's and nipples that were considerably smaller than a pencil eraser. Jane's breasts were medium sized, bigger than Brenda's or Emily's but smaller than Mama's, way smaller than Bea's. Both girls had removed all of the hair from their pussies. All of it. I watched them until they got in the bath tub. When they were both wet, and with the nozzles turned on, Grace lifted herself up, until she was sitting on the edge of the tub. She opened her legs and Jane stuck her face in and started licking her. Grace had her eyes closed for a few seconds, and when she opened them, she looked over at me. "What do you think of us now? Do you still want to be our friend?" All I could do was nod my head up and down, letting her know that I still did.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 3

"What do you think of us now? Do you still want to be our friend?" All I could do was nod my head up and down, letting her know that I still did. Grace looked down at Jane's head and began caressing it, lovingly, satisfied, for the moment at least, and giving herself over to the pleasure of their shared intimacy. I waited a few moments, watching the two of them together, before getting up and taking off for the bedroom. I called Gerta, asking her if it would be too much trouble for her if there were two extra for dinner.

I had bolted my door before calling Gerta, and I was on my bed, thinking about the way Grace had looked when she had touched Jane. To me, it seemed like she was communicating more caring, in that one touch, than I had ever experienced during all of my sex with Bea. I recognized this as something I wanted to have. I wanted someone running her hand along my cheek, so I would be able to feel her love for me. I'm sure they had only wanted me to see them having sex together. I didn't think they expected I would learn how much they each cared for the other. I had been feeling sorry for both of them, until I saw a glimpse of what they had together. I still wanted them to be my friends, and I wanted to help them too, I just wasn't sorry for them anymore.

It was another hour before they came out of my bathroom. Grace carried herself as if she expected me to say something negative to her, something that she'd need to retaliate for. Jane seemed shyer than before, more vulnerable looking than she had been. I didn't know what to say, or how to act around them. What were they expecting from me? I looked at them, but I kept quiet, hoping they would say something to let me know how they wanted me to treat this.

"Nice tub, we had a ball, thanks." Grace had on one of her smirks. I could tell she had sensed I was thrown a little off balance by what had happened. Being the way she was, she wanted to exploit it now, by putting me on the defensive if I showed any resistance or disapproval. Her way was always to attack, whenever she was faced with the possibility of disapproval.

"You're welcome. I don't like baths. At the orphanage, you had to take baths until you were seven. The big kids got to take showers. They used to give seven or eight of us baths, in the same water. I didn't like bathing in dirty, soapy water."

"Aren't you going to say anything about what we were doing?" Grace seemed off balance herself now, probably nervous that I hadn't already said something to give her a chance to defend what they did. I still didn't know what to say. I didn't mind what they did. It made me feel better knowing they loved each other like that. I saw it wasn't just the sex. People just having sex didn't touch like that.

"You love each other, so that's good. It makes the sex a lot better too I'd bet." For the first time since she came out of the bathroom, I saw Jane's shoulders relax and her body uncoil a little. She had been more nervous and tense than I thought.

"You have any problems with us being this way?" Grace still seemed like she wanted to have some fight over this. I didn't understand why.

"You mean being loud and angry, or you having sex with each other? It doesn't make any difference to me that you both love each other. It should make a difference to you though." I saw Grace's eyes start to get back to normal, and her body seemed to get more relaxed too.

"Well, thanks for letting us use your Whirlpool. We haven't had any privacy, or opportunities for a long time. We don't usually perform in public either."

"That wasn't my idea. I was ready to leave."

"We wanted you to know about us, in case it made you change your mind." Grace had draped her hand behind Jane's neck, absently playing with the neckline of her tee shirt. Jane wasn't purring, but she did snuggle back towards Grace's touch, letting Grace know she welcomed it.

"We're having some kind of chicken tonight, cooked the French way, with sauce, over noodles. It's real good the way Gerta makes it. Gerta says we'll eat at seven. My mother thinks you're quiet Grace, from when we were at the golf course. I didn't tell her how you really are. My dad will be there too. He doesn't talk much at dinner, and when he does, its usually just about business. If you want to talk about golf, that would be good. Ask Mama about the sand play green, and the green in the lake. Once she gets started talking about the golf learning center, she'll probably talk through the whole dinner."

"Are you going to tell her about what Grace and I did?" Jane looked worried when she asked me.

"I wasn't planning to. If you want to, you can. We had this girl named Elena that worked for us, and she liked girls, but Mama still hired her. Don't jump up on the dinner table and show her though, my dad would throw a fit if you did that." We all had a laugh about the idea of them doing that, and, we knew that because no one had said anything bad about the other, the three of us had reached an understanding. We went back downstairs, and into the kitchen. Gerta was in there with Elizabeth, and the two of them were working on different things. Gerta was fixing dinner, and Elizabeth was baking. One of the things Gerta had discovered was that Elizabeth made the best breads. I introduced both girls to Gerta first, and then to Elizabeth. It surprised me how shy Elizabeth was around strangers. She was quiet with all of us too, but you could really notice the difference around Jane and Grace.

In the time Elizabeth had been with us, I hadn't gotten to know her very well. I wasn't sure if she was avoiding me on purpose, or if Gerta always assigned her work to do that was away from wherever I was. I had only said about fifty words to her since she started working at our house, and she'd probably said about ten words back to me. I knew about her a little bit from what Mama and Gerta had told me. She was a widow, and her husband had been killed in a fall from a horse. They had lived in North Carolina when he had the accident, but she had moved back home to Ridgeline to live with her parents again. Her husband had died four years ago, and she was twenty eight years old. My mother told me that Elizabeth was a very unhappy woman, but she didn't say anything after that. I guessed she was still unhappy because her husband was dead. She still dressed in clothes that made it hard to tell what kind of shape she had underneath them.

I had gone out the kitchen back door once, looking for Hans, to ask him a question about something, and had run into Elizabeth in the side garden. She was smoking a cigarette that smelled awfully funny. I thought it might be marijuana, but I wasn't sure. She jumped when she realized I was standing there, then quickly threw away her cigarette, grinding it into tiny bits with the heel of her shoe. I told her I was looking for Hans, and she pointed back at the garage. She looked frightened, but I didn't say anything to anyone about my suspicions.

At dinner that night, Grace decided to take offense with something my father said about the minimum wage. All he said was that the minimum wage took away jobs that people with marginal skills needed. That didn't sound too bad to me. In fact, I hadn't paid any attention to it. He was always saying things like that, and if you asked him about it, he'd go into a whole lecture to prove his point to you. If you kept quiet, he'd either be quiet too, or else talk about something else.

The way I remember it, Grace then told my father that he personally wanted wages kept low so that he could profit more at the worker's expense. It was something like that. As soon as she said it, I knew we were in for a long lesson about how good jobs were created. Dad was very smart, and he knew a lot about how to make companies run. He wasn't very good about understanding why people weren't too happy to accept what he wanted to pay them.

He was personally generous, but his generosity didn't carry through to business. According to him, workers were paid what they were worth. He said it was all a matter of supply and demand. The more or better skills you had, that your employer needed, the higher you would be paid for them. The people with the least valuable skills should make the least. If they weren't able to live on that, they needed to develop skills that were in higher demand.

"That's the way people like you justify paying yourselves a hundred times as much as you pay your workers. Whatever you do is always worth so much more than what they do. In your mind."

"What I do, young lady, is create and protect all those other jobs, so that people will have a way to make the wages that you ridicule as being insufficient. Believe me, most of them are damn glad to be getting their paychecks."

"I didn't say they weren't. What I said was it wasn't fair, and that you take advantage of them, by paying them less than you should, because you can, and because it means more money for you."

"I have sixteen hundred people working at my company. Each of them gets a paycheck larger than mine."

"Thomas, don't dissemble, it isn't becoming for you to do so."

"Well, they do. It's a fact." Dad was smiling at Mama, we could both tell, from his expression, that he was enjoying the jousting with Grace. "Even if I was making one hundred times what we pay a delivery driver though, I would still be worth that much, and more, to the company. Most of our employees can drive, but almost none can lead the company, or safeguard the future operation that their jobs are dependent upon."

"I could see if you thought that should command five times the delivery driver's income, but no job is worth one hundred times another. What would you do if they refused to pay you that much?"

"I would go to work for someone who recognized my true value to them, or, failing that, I would build my own company, from the ground up, and put my former company out of business, using my superior business planning skills. In ten years, I'd be larger than my old company, and able to pay myself whatever I wanted to make. People with my skills are quite rare, and much in demand."

"Spoken like a true elitist, Mr. Parsons. You derive your wealth and power by taking advantage of those who make it possible for you to have it."

"Spoken like a Bolshevik true believer, Grace. Capitalism rewards innovation, achievement, and success, while Socialism stifles the first two, and renders impossible the last. If you're looking for elitist's, look no further than the very few men that guide the Soviet Union. They don't rely on profits to determine their rewards, only position. They pay lip service to the idea of communal wealth and equality, but observe how their workers live compared to their own living conditions. When you've done that, come back and compare it to the disparity you're complaining about here. Which of these systems thrives, and which is an economic patchwork, bloated with non productive workers, and failed five year plans?"

"Kenny, tell us about your golf, dear? What did you shoot?" I was wondering when Mama was going to stop him. He was only getting started too. Mama said the reason he felt so strongly was that he'd had to learn these lessons the hard way, as he made his way to the top in the business world. I thought that was funny because he'd started almost at the top, straight out of college. Mama and Uncle Bunny believed the same way that my father did, but they had learned early in life that it wasn't necessary for them to explain or justify their wealth and income. If it ever did become necessary, they hired people, like my father, to do it for them.

At least we spent the rest of dinner talking about golf. When Hans was clearing away the main course dishes for the dessert Gerta had prepared, Dad started talking with Grace again.

"Grace, how would you like to come to work for me this summer? You could be my summer intern. You'd be running around doing routine gofer work, but at the same time, you'd get an insider's idea of the way things really work in running a company. I believe, at the end of the summer, your views would be radically altered."

"I've already been offered a job, for eight dollars an hour."

"I'll match that, and we'll throw in room and board. Bertie, we'll give her Beatrice's old room, if that's all right? That would solve her living situation. Are you afraid your ideas won't stand up in the real world?"

"Thomas, I'll tolerate no attempt to repeat your earlier behavior with Bea."

"Bertie! I'm merely trying to prove my point with this. I assure you that you needn't be concerned on that score."

"Very well. It might prove beneficial at that. You must promise to let her have two afternoons free during the week, to play golf with Kenny and Jane. You can't spoil the whole summer for her just to prove your point. Jane, since you and Grace are obviously a couple, you are free to join us as well. I'm sure the bed is large enough for the two of you." I'm not sure who was more surprised when Mama said that last part. Dad looked up at Mama, but didn't say anything. Jane and Grace both looked at me, as if they thought I had betrayed their secret. I just looked at Mama, amazed that she knew, and more amazed that she'd speak of it like she had, at the dinner table. Mama was enjoying the reaction she'd had. She reached out and took Jane's hand in hers. "Don't blame Kenny, dear. He didn't tell me. He didn't have to. I've observed you both here at the table this evening. It is as obvious as if you'd announced it out loud to all of us. Of course, Thomas and Kenny are males, and they don't recognize these things, even when they can't help but see them. I was unaware that you believed it was a secret. If I've embarrassed either of you, I'm very sorry." Neither Jane nor Grace seem much comforted by her apology to them.

I might have believed her explanation, if Gerta hadn't come in with the dessert right then. I saw the look that passed between Mama and her. It was the look of conspirators. How did Gerta find out though? I wondered if it might have something to do with the telephone that had appeared in my bedroom, shortly after I came there to live. I decided I'd wait to get alone with Gerta sometime, after Grace and Jane left. If I was certain of anything, it was that Gerta and I were very close. She would never do anything to deliberately harm Mama, I was certain of that as well. I had to find a way to ask her about how she found out about Jane and Grace, without making it necessary for her to harm Mama by giving me that information.

After dinner, Jane and Grace took off. Jane was going to drive Grace over to Topeka in the morning, and then pick her up the night of her graduation, to bring her back here. There were ten days before we could expect them back. Jane hadn't answered Mama about staying here, but I thought that was only because she didn't want to reopen the topic of what her relationship with Grace was. Grace had already accepted dad's offer to be his intern for the summer. I had walked them out to Jane's car to see them off. Grace seemed unconcerned with Mama knowing about her relationship with Jane, but she was most excited about having a place to live, with Jane. Jane seemed less enthusiastic about the whole situation than I thought she'd be. She was troubled because Mama had uncovered her secret love. I almost told her that I was sure it was Gerta who told Mama, but I wanted to investigate before I told anyone of my suspicions.

I wound up playing nine holes with Dave the following day. He scheduled this, instead of a double lesson for a makeup of the previous day's missed lesson. Before I hit every shot, Dave stood behind me, watching as I got set up to strike the ball. He would make comments after every shot, telling me what I needed to be concentrating on, as I went through my pre-shot routine. I was starting to drive the ball consistently better than before. I attributed a lot of it to my new two wood, but also gave some credit to my added height and weight.

Between Christmas and the end of 10th grade, I'd added three inches, and twenty five pounds. Doing the stretching and turning exercises that Dave had assigned me, I'd managed to increase my shoulder turn as well. I still couldn't out drive my father, but I'd passed Mama, and she hit it pretty long for a woman, even one a lot younger than she was. I could drive even with Grace, and a little farther than Jane. My putting practice was improving my lags too, and I knew enough about the contour of each green that I knew where I wanted to hit it, depending on where each flag was place on a particular day. That last bit of hard won information saved me three or four strokes per round. I scored forty one on the front, but I knew I could have been three or even four strokes better with a little luck in the bounces I got. Dave was two over par, at thirty eight, but he was spending more time worrying about my game than he was about his own.

After we finished playing, I went in for lunch, and Mrs. Connor was in the restaurant, eating alone. I waved to her when she looked up, but didn't seek to join her. I had just finished ordering a cheeseburger, and was taking my first sip out of the Coke Frank had brought to my table when he came to take my order, when I noticed Mrs. Connor standing right beside me.

"May I speak with you for a moment, Kenny?" I stood up for her, then told her that she could. I indicated the chair next to mine. After she sat, I sat back down as well. "Kenny, can you please tell me what happened between you and Brenda? I don't understand, and she refuses to even discuss it with me. I've gathered there was an argument of some kind, and the break up was her choice, but this is all I know."

"That's pretty much it, Mrs. Connor. We kept finding out that we believed different things. I really like her, but not enough to change the way I think. I'd have to do that for us to get along. She didn't want to change for me either."

"If it was about sex, Kenny, you must remember she's still very young. I'm sure, if you waited just a little while for her, she'd come around to doing what you desire. Sometimes, a young girl needs time, to be sure, before she takes that last big step. In a case such as this, patience is called for on the boy's part. All good things come to he who waits."

"I'll remember that, thank you." It was funny, because it was the other way around, but I guess it was a natural assumption for her to have made. I sure wasn't going to contradict her about it. She got up and went back to her table. When my hamburger came, I ate it quickly, and then got up, signed my check, and went out to give Hans a call to come get me. I left the clubhouse after speaking with Gerta, and walked down to the street at the end of the country club's driveway. The ride home was quiet, because I wasn't in the mood for discussing either my thoughts, or my suspicions, with Hans. As loyal as Gerta was to my mother, Hans was even more loyal to Gerta. I knew she was getting information somehow, but I didn't know how she was doing it.

I'd spent time the evening before, listening for any sounds coming out of my telephone, and I even put my ear next to the wall vents for the airflow from the heating and air conditioning ducts. I didn't hear anything. I looked for hidden microphones too, like the ones they used on television programs. If my room had any, I couldn't find them. I was going to take the back off of my television set, but I was afraid I might break something, or not be able to put it back together after. After spending all those years with no privacy at the orphanage, the idea that I didn't have it in my new home was pretty disturbing to me.

I guess I was dwelling on it too much, because by the time dinner was ready, I was starting to get mad. I came down for dinner, already thinking of what I wanted to say. What I couldn't figure out is who I wanted to say it to. I fumed quietly all through dinner, listening to what my parents were talking about, but not joining in on their conversation.

"What's troubling you, Kenny? You've sat there, all through dinner, looking like you were about to explode. Did something happen to you today?" Mama was watching me as she spoke, looking to see whether I might do something to give her some inkling of why I was being so quiet. As soon as she spoke, I mentally crossed her name off my list of people I wanted to talk to about my worry that someone was spying on me.

"Sorry, I was thinking about something else. I had a playing lesson with Dave this morning, and then I saw Mrs. Connor at lunch. She was talking to me about Brenda."

"I was curious about that myself, but I didn't want to pry."

"Just more of the same thing. We can't seem to both agree about anything. I'd rather things were like they are now, than for us to keep having the same argument over and over."

"You children are both at a difficult age. Small disagreements seem insurmountable to you."

"You listen to your mother, Kenny. She understands insurmountable." Mama and I both looked at Dad when he said this. It was unusual for him to comment like that, and more unusual for him to use something like this to take a swipe at Mama.

"Is something troubling you Thomas?" There was an icy tone in Mama's question.

"Well, now that you ask me, yes there is. Would you like to take a guess as to what it might be?"

"You're the one who's upset, Thomas, why don't you tell me what it is?"

"That crack you made at the dinner table last night. The more I think about it, the less I care for it."

"You're absolutely right, and I meant to apologize for it. What you said surprised me, and I'm afraid it raised unpleasant past occurrences in my mind. I do apologize for my remark."

"But, you meant it? You are concerned that I would make that same mistake again?"

"No, not concerned. A tiny fear, no more than that. A stray thought, better left unspoken. I wish it hadn't popped from my mouth, but it did. I meant far less than it sounded like I did. I've really put that entire episode behind me."

"Very well. I accept your apology. We'll speak no more of it. My advice to you still stands, Kenny. Listen to your mother."

"Mama, are there listening devices in my room?" I watched her closely, but she wasn't giving anything away from her reaction. She looked honestly puzzled.

"Like earphones?" I could see she was struggling to understand my question.

"No, like spies use to get information from people. Bugs, tiny electronic microphones that allow people to hear someone else's conversations."

"No, tell me, whatever possessed you to even think such a thing?" Mama was laughing at the suggestion of such an idea. I guess I believed her too. At least I believed she didn't know about them, even if there were listening devices in my room.

"You saying that about Jane and Grace being a couple, and then the look Gerta gave you when she came out with the dessert. I knew something was up, and that's what I first thought of."

"Well, in a way, you're right about the look, but it wasn't anything about either of us spying. Gerta and I were standing together on Bunny's veranda, before dinner, trying to decide if the Ivy was encroaching too high on the outside wall of the house, and we noticed Jane and Grace sharing a rather intimate embrace in the garden. Naturally, both were thinking they were doing so unseen. What I said at the table, it was to put both their minds at ease. I wanted Grace to feel comfortable while she was staying with us. I didn't want any repeat of that rather awkward situation we had with Elena. Gerta and I had discussed earlier the possibility of offering our home as a summer long shelter for Grace. Of course, we had no idea then, your father was going to preempt us as he did. It did lend itself rather neatly to what I wanted to convey to them."

"They thought I'd said something to you. I didn't want them thinking that I'd do anything like that."

"Well then, if you're satisfied with that subject now, perhaps you'll be willing to tell us what seems to be the cause of your disagreement with Brenda? I'll make a confession to you, Kenny, I've been discussing you and Brenda with Georgia Connor almost everyday on the phone. For the life of us, we can't figure out why the two of you should be having so much difficulty with your relationship. Georgia is worried that Brenda is making herself physically ill because of how hard she's taking this break up. Brenda's whole demeanor is changing right in front of her mother's eyes, but no amount of maternal pleading has convinced her to discuss what caused this rift between you two. Georgia is afraid you might have tried pushing Brenda too fast. I hope she has no good reason for thinking that? You weren't pushing Brenda to go past where she was comfortable, were you?"

"No. I don't want to talk about it anymore though. Brenda and I both made some choices. In the end, we both decided we couldn't go along with what the other wanted. I wasn't pushing her to do more stuff with me."

"What of Emily Carstairs? I haven't seen you with her either. Did something happen between all three of you?"

"Emily was friends with both of us, but I guess she felt closer to Brenda. I didn't ask her to make a choice, but maybe Brenda did."

"Is there something that you'd like me to do, to help you with any of this? Would you like to see someone, professionally, to talk about any problems you might be experiencing with the way things have been turning out?" I saw Mama glancing at dad, trying to get him to join in and support her in this question. He didn't look like he wanted to do that, but he knew he had to say something, to keep the peace, if nothing else.

"Bertie, these things happen with youngsters when they're trying to feel their way through these early puppy love situations. The boy doesn't need to go see some shrink every time he breaks up with a girl. He'd feel worse if we made him. It would be the same as us telling him there was something wrong with him breaking up with Brenda."

"Thank you Thomas. Of course, what you've just said will make it impossible for Kenny to ask for help, even if he feels he might need or want it."

"No it wouldn't. I don't think I need it for this though. If Brenda's parents are so worried, maybe they should take her to this doctor. I've been trying to get over Brenda, to move on with things. Why are you so anxious to bring the two of us together? Does it have something to do with Uncle Bunny and Mrs. Connor?"

"I don't know why you'd even think that. I'm thinking about you, and your happiness. Brenda is a lovely girl, Kenny, stunning actually, with that hair, and her natural athleticism. You aren't going to find very many young women that could stand beside her and come off looking as good, or better, as a future match for you."

"The problem with Brenda is that she doesn't want the things I do. It doesn't matter how beautiful she is, if we both don't want the same things. We don't help each other. It couldn't last."

I knew what I wanted, and I knew I'd recognize it when I found it. I also knew I'd have to make some big changes so that I'd be ready for it, when I did find it. When I went to bed that night, I was thinking about Grace and Jane, and the way I'd reacted when I watched Grace's hand sliding across Jane's jaw line. I went to sleep remembering the expression on her face as she did that. I had a dream that night about my mother, not Mama, but the woman who gave birth to me. In my dream I was very small, and my mother was humming to me. While she did it, she ran the back of her hand across my chubby baby cheek. I felt the comfort of her hand as her nails trailed softly across my face. I could almost make out her face, but it was just too blurred for me to recognize any of her facial features. I stopped trying to see her face, satisfied just to feel the love that was in her touch. I had no previous conscious memory of my mother, but I never doubted that it was her I was seeing in the dream.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 4

The next ten days passed quickly. Mama and I played golf on the next Saturday, and I played with both of my parents, and Uncle Bunny, on Sunday. I didn't talk to anyone about my dream, but it was troubling me a little. I kept thinking about how near I'd come to actually seeing my mother's face. It didn't occur to me that it was simply a dream, unconnected with any reality. I started thinking more and more about the woman who was my birth mother.

I'd never admitted it before, but I had been very hurt and troubled over the idea that someone had just decided to give me away, after I was already three years old. What was so wrong with me that my own mother would decide to do that? I always wondered why I didn't remember anything from before I came to the orphanage too. I had tried, lots of times, to think about any memory I had from before I went to live at St. Cecelia's, but I couldn't. I remember falling once, and cutting my leg near the ankle, but that was when I was about five years old. I had to go to the hospital to get stitches. A priest came to bring me to the hospital in a car, then he took me back, after the doctor finished sewing my leg. I couldn't remember anything at all from before then.

I did see Emily and Gary at the club once. It happened when I was coming down to ask someone to bring me my clubs and a bucket of practice balls. They were with their parents, and they were heading upstairs to the clubhouse restaurant, before I could do more than wave hello to them. Emily smiled at me, so that was a big relief. It meant she couldn't be that mad at me. Gary was growing too. He was about six inches taller than the last time I saw him, and now he was really tall for his age. He hadn't put the weight back on, from being sick the year before, like Emily had. He looked healthy, just really thin. I remember thinking that he'd be seven feet tall, if he kept growing like he was until he was sixteen or seventeen years old. He looked like he was already taller than me.

On Wednesday, Grace and Jane showed up in Jane's Toyota. They unloaded the car. I helped them put everything in their room. Jane told me they had to go back to Bolling, to get the rest of her things. She said if I came, it might take two more trips, so that was the reason I couldn't come. I offered to go ask Hans if he'd drive us over in the limo, so we could be sure get it all at once, but Jane said her father was pretty upset that she was moving out, especially with Grace, and she didn't want to have any trouble by bringing anyone else there to help her.

I went ahead to the club and took my golf lesson, then hurried home, to make sure I didn't miss them when they got back. When they did pull up again, they had managed to load everything in before they left. It was about two thirty, and I talked them into going out to the club and grabbing a quick snack bar hot dog or hamburger, which we'd eat before playing eighteen holes. We drove out with Hans, leaving the Toyota still loaded, and sitting in front of our house.

I played really well, and so did Jane. I shot an eighty one, but that was with two double bogey's. One of the doubles was on a hole I'd birdied the last time I'd played it. My putting had been good though, not one three putt on my round. The second double came because I hit my drive out of bounds. Jane shot a seventy three. She told me she hadn't touched a golf club since the last time we'd played with Mama. I didn't know what was wrong with Grace's game. It looked like almost everything. She wasn't striking the ball good, and she didn't seem to even be trying with her putter. She finished up with an eighty eight, but she played so poorly, I was surprised when Jane announced our scores. I thought Grace must have scored close to one hundred. When I replayed each of the holes in my mind though, the numbers matched up with what Jane said.

While Jane and I waited for Grace to go to the restroom, after we had finished, Jane told me that there had been a huge scene at Grace's house while they were packing and moving her personal possessions. Grace's mother and father had gone through everything Grace had packed, taking back anything that Grace hadn't purchased with her own money. Her clothes hadn't been that good in the first place, according to Jane, but now Grace didn't have anything decent to wear at her new job. She was very upset about how her parents had treated her. Jane said her father wasn't one hundred per cent sure about her and Grace, but he was very suspicious. They had only gotten away with things as long as they had, because Grace had dated Jimmy, Jane's brother, for six months.

By the time we got back to the house, Mama and dad were back from Bolling with Uncle Bunny. The company had switched banks to make it easier to run the payroll and other accounts for all three of the new divisions. The old bank hadn't been able to do what dad said he wanted. They had also gotten a much larger operating line with the new bank. The new banker had also told dad about a possible new acquisition, and he had helped arrange for the present owner of that company to fly into Bolling on Friday, to speak to dad. Dad said he already knew a lot about the company, and had wondered how much longer they'd try to go it alone, as an independent.

This was the first time that Grace and Jane had met Uncle Bunny. After about five minutes, the three of them were laughing like old friends. That was how Uncle Bunny always was, he could make people relax, and enjoy themselves around him. While they were getting acquainted, I talked to Mama about Grace's clothes situation. She just smiled, and told me not to worry about it any longer. I knew then that Jane and Grace were in for a ride to Springfield for some clothes shopping. Mama had never liked Bea, not just for what happened with dad either. There was something about Bea's nature, which just seemed to rub Mama the wrong way. If she had liked her, Bea would have enjoyed the year she spent living with Mama.

At dinner, my suspicions were confirmed when Mama told both girls not to make any plans for the following day, because they needed to go with her, into the city. After dinner, while Mama, dad, and Uncle Bunny were discussing business, and having a few more drinks in the library, I took the girls upstairs, and told them what to expect. I told them the same thing Uncle Bunny had told me, about not stopping Mama from buying them as much as she wanted to. I told them no matter how much she spent on them, she'd make more in daily interest on all her money and investments than they could possibly spend on them. I wasn't sure it was true, but it sounded good, and I wanted both of them to have fun, and enjoy the time they spent with Mama.

I knew that Mama was bound to have one or more of her depressions while Grace and Jane were there. I figured that seeing her like she gets then, would be much easier for them to take, if they saw her when she was happy, and at her best. To me, one day of Mama being happy, and in full control of herself, made up for at least twenty of those other days, when she was filled with darkness and despair. I wished she never had to go through those other times, but I understood how important it was to allow her to fully enjoy all of her good days. I think I succeeded in convincing the girls too.

"Listen, I'm going to have to go somewhere for a couple hours. I hate leaving you two all alone on your first night living here, but maybe you could relax up here and have a nice bath while I'm gone. If you throw the bolt after I leave, no one can come in the room to disturb you. When I get back, I'll phone you from downstairs, so you'll know it's only me knocking at the door later. I'll be gone for at least two hours, so if you get tired of the television, or get sleepy, you can always use my bed until I get back." I got a kiss on the cheek from Grace, which surprised me. Jane gave me a hug, after Grace stepped away. I let myself out of my bedroom, hearing the bolt thrown right away, seconds after I shut the door. My first thought out in the hallway, was where could I go while I gave them some privacy for those two hours? I decided to go outside, to take a walk.

Before I left the house, I told Gerta that Grace and Jane were in my bedroom, relaxing and watching television, and weren't to be disturbed. I went into the library and said good night to Uncle Bunny, mentioning to Mama that I had left the girls in my room to relax, and watch some television. I thanked her for being so nice to my friends, asking her not to wear herself out with too much shopping. She gave me a big hug, and a kiss too.

"I've always wanted to have girls to take shopping too, Kenny. This is more for my benefit and enjoyment than for theirs. I'll try not to go overboard tomorrow."

"Mama, I think it wouldn't hurt if you did. Grace's parents put her through a terrible time when she left. They made her feel so bad she couldn't even enjoy playing golf today. I think tomorrow, it would be a good thing if you did go overboard, at least for her. Weren't you the one that told me, to a woman, shopping for clothes was better than a hundred trips to a psychiatrist? I expect to find three very happy and well adjusted women when I see you after you return tomorrow. I already told them to let you go wild, if it made you happy. I hope you three have all the fun you can stand."

I went out the front door then, wondering where to go for my walk. It was one of those June nights that were simply perfect. No wind, and yet the air was gently stirring. No rain, but the air contained just enough moisture to feel the refreshing coolness of it. Overhead, the skies were clear, and, as I walked, I could hear the sounds of the small animal nightlife stirring. The quiet and the darkness welcomed me, and I welcomed it as well. Once again, I was struck by the many good things I had touching my life. As I walked, I realized that I was slowly starting to feel some of that peace the sisters had always promised me I'd get, if I'd only just come to accept their beliefs. I liked it, that warm feeling I had, but I didn't trust it, because I knew I was capable, at any time, of ruining it in an instant.

When I reached the street, I turned left, towards town. I walked past Emily's house, pausing only long enough to look to see if their lights were on. I wasn't thinking about her at all until I walked by, but as I continued on, I wondered again why I'd chosen to treat her the way I had. I felt a lot worse about how I'd acted around her than I did about the way I'd treated Brenda. In town, I walked around, looking in the windows of several closed storefronts. Ridgeline wasn't very big. I didn't know how big, but certainly less than five thousand residents. I guess, if you added up all the farm families that surrounded the town, it might go up to seven or even eight thousand people. Nothing as big as Bolling or Topeka, scarcely bigger than Holton and all the other small surrounding farm communities sprinkled around close by.

I wondered if my real mother had lived around here. She must have lived in the County, at least at one time. That would eliminate Holton and the other Jackson County towns. I didn't know how many small towns were in Bolling County, but I doubted if it was that large a number. It was that dream I'd had that made me think that way. I was grateful for the mother I did have, and I don't think I wanted to make any changes to my living situation. Still, I would have liked to put a real face to the image I'd glimpsed from the dream.

I was walking past this small diner, one of the few businesses still open in town, when Richard Connor and Darryl Kingsley came out with two girls I didn't know. The girls looked much younger than either boy, thirteen years old, or maybe even less than that.

"Kenny Masters, what are you master of? Baiting? Is that what you're master of? You get it Darryl?" I figured that Richard had been working on that one ever since the end of the last summer. Darryl nodded that he got it. Even the girls got it, but they didn't understand why Richard would say something as mean as that. They started looking worried.

"We've changed our minds now. We didn't see how late it was. Maybe another time, okay?" The two young girls hurried off, away from the direction they'd been heading, which was Darryl's father's car, parked on the curb, thirty feet away from where the remaining three of us were now standing.

"Goddamn it! You see what you went and did now, Masters, you asshole? We were taking those two out to the lake to get better acquainted. We even bought them something to drink. You owe us our three dollars back, right Darryl?"

"What did he do? He hasn't said nothing yet." Darryl, from the few times I'd spoken to him at the club pool, wasn't very smart. He didn't realize yet that Richard was picking a fight with me. I smiled at Darryl, and continued walking past the two of them. I was hoping that Richard would let it drop there.

"Don't you frigging walk away from me when I'm not done talking to you. I'm not like my slut sister, ass wipe, I'm not letting you walk all over me. Get your ass back here." I turned back then. Actually, I'd started turning back when he called Brenda a slut again. I had pulled ahead of Richard in height, but he still had to outweigh me by about twenty pounds or so. I didn't think I could beat him in a fight, but I also didn't think he would have that easy of a time with me. I wasn't thinking about what Darryl would do. It wouldn't have made any difference if I did think about it. Darryl was already moving away, heading towards his father's car.

"Richard, I've had enough of your ugly mouth. If you think I'm going to keep letting you get away with talking to me like this, you're wrong. If I have to fight you I will. I'd rather fight you than listen to you say those things anymore."

I suppose he took that as an invitation to begin throwing punches, because he did throw them. I stepped straight back, trying to avoid having one of his wild roundhouses scoring a lucky hit with my face. The way he was throwing his punches was from out at the side. I figured out pretty quickly that Richard didn't know the first thing about fighting. He was just trying to swarm me with his windmill swings, hoping to land something on me, something that would hurt me, or knock me down. I was able to avoid almost all of it, although he did manage to hit me several times on my arms, which I was using to parry his punches. We both heard Darryl start the car, and Richard seemed surprised when Darryl put the car into gear, and drove off.

I could already tell that Richard was stronger than me, and the workouts he was doing for football, had left him in better condition too. Golf isn't much of a sport, and doesn't generally produce the best athletes. I was no exception to that general rule either. I didn't learn that much about fighting at the orphanage. What I had learned was how to prevent the other kid from winning, at least until the sisters came by to break up the fight. The other lesson, the one I learned from my own stubborn streak, was to not give in. I didn't believe that Richard could do anything to me that would cause me to give up.

I kept blocking his attacks, moving backwards carefully, trying to decide if I wanted to try some offense, to find out if Richard could be made to retreat or give up. If he would have shown any sign of stopping or even slowing down, I probably wouldn't have hit him. He was talking a lot, mostly telling me what he was going to do to me for making him fight me. That's all it was at that point, him fighting, and me trying to keep from being hurt. Him taking swings, and me stepping backwards. He had changed tactics. Instead of throwing his wide out windmills with either hand, he was winding up and just punching with his right hand now. He finally managed to get past my arms, landing a hard punch on my chest. It hurt, and it made me angrier than I was before he did it. I stepped back again, wanting to rub the place where he'd hit me, but not daring to. The next time he drew his right hand back to load up for the punch that was coming, I stepped forward and punched him as hard as I could. My hand really exploded with pain. Enough pain that I pulled it back, afraid I might have broken it.

I had hit him on the side of his head, and while it surprised him, it wasn't enough to make him decide to call it quits. He came forward and again threw a punch, this time at my head, which I blocked, but not before he also threw a left that got through, and stung the side of my face. I quit thinking about the pain in my hand, or even about keeping up my defenses to avoid being hurt by him. Instead, I started throwing my own punches, in pain, and in anger, with a little bit of fear thrown in too. We stood right in front of each other and both of us landed at least twenty times each, before he stepped back, and dropped his hands.

"You're eye is cut." That's what he said to me. Both of his were cut and bleeding, and his nose was bleeding too. I stepped forward and hit him a couple more times, and it was his turn to try to block me with his hands, while he retreated. "You better stop, Kenny, it's bleeding bad." I kept coming forward, and this time, he didn't try to defend at all, he just moved away until he was fifty feet from me. "You're crazy, you asshole! That's enough! Go get that eye fixed. It probably needs stitches." I kept chasing him, and he kept running. I knew my only advantage over him was my strong will, and my willingness to accept more punches than he would. "All right, I quit. You win." He was crying. The big, tough, football player was blubbering, and holding his face, worried about getting more pain.

"I can do this as many times as it takes, Richard. I'll stop this time, but you better not ever try this with me again, because next time I won't stop, not until I can't lift my arms to hit you anymore." I left him then, and started walking back to my house. I had put my hand up to my left eye and there was only a tiny cut, without much blood. I couldn't find any cut at all on my right eye. I went in the house the back way, through the kitchen. Gerta and Hans were in their apartment. I picked up the phone, pressing the number seven, before putting my finger down on the button again. When I lifted it up after waiting two seconds, Jane was saying hello.

"Hi, it's me. Are you guys decent? I need to come up to my room now."

"Come up, we were just talking. I mean, it is your room and all."

I grabbed a clean dish towel, and half a dozen ice cubes, before I went upstairs to my room. When I got inside my room, I had to answer a lot of questions about the way my face looked. I went in the bathroom, and it was red and a little puffy, but not too bad. The cut was only a little split in the skin along the side of my eye. Taking an inventory of the pain, I found it was my chest, the place where he'd hit me with the first punch to get through, that hurt me the most. I told Grace and Jane what had happened, describing my previous problems with Richard, and telling them more than I wanted to about Brenda, in the process. I told them also that it was Richard that had decided to quit, not me. After the whole thing was over, my body started to react to the expenditure of adrenaline. My hands both started shaking, and I felt close to wanting to cry.

"Don't mention this to Mama tomorrow, okay? I want her to have a really good time, and she won't if she's worried about me." They promised not to say anything, and they let themselves out of my room, after both giving me a little squeeze to show their friendship and support. I went to bed and managed to get to sleep without any problems. I slept until almost nine o'clock.

When I woke up, washed up, and went downstairs. Mama and the girls had already left for Springfield with Hans driving them. Gerta made me a big breakfast, and I saw her looking my face over carefully, but she didn't ask me about it. When I was finished with breakfast, she drove me over to the club for my lesson.

My father called me from his office at about two thirty, wanting me to tell him my version of what happened in the fight. I told him how it happened. First, I told him about Richard calling Brenda a slut again, and then I told him the rest. Included in the rest was me telling him about the two very young girls. I finished up by telling him all the particulars about the fight, at his request. I ended by explaining that Richard was the one that quit, and that I was ready to fight him until he did.

"Kenny, I'm certainly not condoning fighting. I want you to understand this before I continue. You can almost always avoid fighting, if you make an honest effort to do so. From what you have told me, you were merely acting in self defense. This is a far cry from what Walt would have me believe had taken place. I'm going to pack it in early here, and I'll be home in a half hour or so, so don't go anywhere. I want to go with you over to Walt and Georgia's house, and we'll get this damn story straight. I believe you one hundred per cent. The version Walt relayed to me, from Richard's account, didn't make any sense to me, while yours certainly does.

Forty minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Connor opened their front door to let my dad and me in. We all went into the living room, where Brenda and Richard were sitting together on a sofa. Richard was crying again.

"Tom, after you hung up this last time, I finally got the truth out of Richard. Stand up, Richard! Do you have something to say to Mr. Parsons and Kenny?" Richard jumped up. His face was a mess of lumps, and he had a black eye too. He wiped his nose on his bare forearm before he spoke.

"I'm sorry for starting the fight, Kenny, and I'm sorry for lying to my father Mr. Parsons." He then turned around to face Brenda too. "I'm sorry for calling you that name too, Brenda." After that, he was allowed to go to his bedroom. Mrs. Connor and Brenda had been crying too, from the way their eyes were red, and their still damp faces.

"I already told Richard this, and I'll tell it to both of you too. He isn't playing any football this year. That's his punishment for getting himself into all this. He loves football, and he's talented too, but it's changed him in ways that I can still remember being changed myself. He needs to learn early, in a way I wish I'd learned earlier myself, that football is just a damn game, and there's a lot more to it than that to have a good life. I don't want him making all the same mistakes I did. Maybe he'll learn enough by sitting out a year so he won't be sitting on the bench his whole life, after football's over for him." Mr. Connor shook dad's hand first and then mine, then he left the living room too.

"Georgia, I'm sorry as hell it had to come to this, but I couldn't have Richard telling lies like that about Kenny. Maybe Walt will ease up and let the boy play."

"He just better not, Tom. He's right in doing this. Richard has to learn a hard lesson, if he's ever going to grow up to amount to anything. The sooner he learns it, the better I'll like it. Football isn't as important as Richard, and he needs to learn that. I've called the Kingsley's about those little girls too. I'm as upset about that as I am about the fighting."

I looked over at Brenda, and she looked at me too. Neither of us spoke. I guess we both believed that we'd said enough to each other. Dad and I left after that. When we got into his car, he laughed at how much worse Richard's face looked than mine.

"Did you notice Walt looking at your face, and then at Richard's? When Walt called me, he told me that Richard had really given you a sound thumping. He made it sound like you'd be needing to eat through a straw, and would probably lose an eye at least. Richard's face looks like you shoved it through a meat grinder. I know I shouldn't tell you this, Kenny, but I wish I'd have been there to see you do that to him. That boy's needed a comeuppance for the longest time, and you sure gave him one. Now, tell me how come you didn't say anything to Brenda, Kenny? The two of you are the most star crossed lovers I've ever seen. I'm going to take a wild guess, and say that it's been Brenda who's been after you to screw her, and it's been you who's been doing the refusing. Am I right?

"I'm not sure I'd put it that way. We could never both agree at the same time." I didn't want to lie to him, but I didn't want to make it sound like it had only been Brenda either.

You know why I guessed that? Because the same thing happened to Bunny, over thirty years ago, with Brenda's mom, Georgia. She was all over him, and this is according to Bunny, who would certainly know, if anyone does. He told me he did everything he could to slow her down, because he wanted to be honorable, to not take advantage. She wound up leaving him, and then, taking up with Walt. Walt wasn't worried about honor, and he sure didn't wait. The reason I'm telling you this now, is so I can also tell you it was the worse decision either of them has ever made. I didn't know either Bunny or Georgia socially at the time, but I knew Walt. He thought he was grabbing on to Georgia in order to ride the gravy train."

"I thought Mr. Connor was a friend of yours?"

"He is, but Walt would be willing to admit what I said was true himself, should you ever care to ask him. He married her for her family's money, and, he made the mistake of bragging about taking her away from Bunny, right in front of Senior Chalmers. Georgia's father tried to make the best of a bad situation, by taking Walt into his business. Senior then went ahead and ruined Georgia's father, put him completely out of business, and he also made certain he lost everything he had ever owned. He didn't leave him a pot to piss in, or a window to throw it out of. He hated Walt, but after he ruined Georgia's father, he set Walt up in a business, just to placate Bunny. You would think Bunny would have stopped loving her after what she did to him, but whenever she whistles, Bunny will always come running. She whistles a lot too.

"I've seen Uncle Bunny around her. I can believe it."

"Don't repeat Bunny's mistake, Kenny, that's what I'm trying to tell you. You might wind up like he did, still loving another man's wife, after over thirty years. Did you ever see Bunny looking at Walt and Georgia's kids? He always looks like he wishes they were his. That's the real reason Senior Chalmers made Bunny get fixed, when he forced the same thing on me. He hated the way Bunny kept this relationship going with her. To him, it was a sign of Bunny's weakness. He didn't want to continue the Chalmers line with a gene for mental illness and another for personal weakness. Of course, he blamed his late wife for introducing those traits into his family. All this happened for one reason, because Bunny couldn't overcome his high minded scruples, and give Georgia what she was begging him for. As much as I'm against sex happening too early, in this one situation, I'd look the other way. You asked your mother before, why she's so anxious for you and Brenda to be together? Now you know. She wants Brenda to finally be a recognized, acknowledged, part of Bunny's family. Bunny loves that little girl as much as if she were his own."

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 5

What Dad had said to me was pretty surprising, but it didn't change anything, not as far as my thinking went. I recognized the strong feelings I had for Brenda, but it wasn't enough. I understood Uncle Bunny's attraction to Mrs. Connor, and I believed what Dad had said about Mama wanting Brenda as part of Uncle Bunny's family. I knew it wouldn't work, Brenda and me, the same way that Uncle Bunny knew it wouldn't work with Mrs. Connor. Mother and daughter both had the same problem. What they wanted always came first with them, and they wouldn't subordinate their own interests willingly. I didn't want to spend my life like Uncle Bunny did, indentured to a love that wasn't really reciprocated. I might love Brenda, but what she loved were the many things she hoped I would be able to do for her. That wasn't the love I was looking for.

As soon as we got home, Dad went into his study, soon becaming lost in his work. When I had first came to live with them, I was amazed by the amount of time and energy Dad spent working. He differed from other people, almost never making time to have fun. When I started to get to know him better, I started realizing he relaxed by reading business articles and reports. I felt sorry for him, until he made me understand that he derived great pleasure from doing what he did.

I also saw the way Mama and Uncle Bunny did nothing to discourage him from working all the time. When the three of them were in the library having some drinks, their conversation was almost always about business, and Dad was usually the main speaker. Mama and Uncle Bunny would ask questions, then listen carefully to his answers. The three of them could spend hours, discussing his thoughts on the company business. After the Consolidated buy out went through, these business discussions became rare, the main topic of conversation was focused on Mama's golf learning center. Now, with the company back in family hands, the topic of conversation was once again focused on the business. The golf learning center took a distant back seat position to the affairs of the company. Dad, when you watched him with Mama and Uncle Bunny, was happy to have all the attention focused back on him. I guess he was one of those workaholics.

Mama and the girls weren't back in time for dinner, so it was only Dad and I at the dining table. I sat next to him, which was our usual habit when it was just the two of us. I decided to try a little experiment, asking him the kinds of questions Uncle Bunny or Mama would usually have asked him. I asked him about what his plans were for his meeting he had scheduled for the next day with the head of the company that the banker had sent to see him. I definitely asked him the right question, not that it took much to get him going, about company business. He began by saying that he'd been thinking about the meeting, and had formulated a comprehensive action plan.

Over the next half hour, while I was eating, he went over each step of his planned itinerary for the meeting. He told me what he expected to happen at each stage, including what he planned to say or do, at each point of their meeting. He seemed excited by his plan, so much so, he could barely spare the time to fit in one or two bites of food while he outlined all of this for me. I was happy to see him enjoying himself. It was hard to feel sorry for anyone who took such pleasure from what he was doing.

"If you do buy this company, how will it fit in with the others you have?" Gerta was already clearing the plates away from the table when I asked this. We were getting up, walking towards the library. Dad started to make himself a drink, asking me if I wanted anything. I asked for one of those Collins drinks he sometimes made for Mama. He fixed me a drink without commenting on my being too young for drinking, not pausing at any point in his account, detailing the different ways this new company could be fitted and shaped to improve operating profits for each of the other three.

Already, in his mind, he'd worked out complicated marketing strategies, and was able to tell me where savings could be found, savings to help maximize profits, and to increase the overall revenues. He claimed this company would instantly pump up the sales for all the other companies, by adding their products in the markets already open to the product lines of the three existing divisions.

Mama and the girls came staggering in at nine thirty, each with her arms full of new purchases. Hans followed behind them with several boxes and bags that he quickly put down right in the hallway, before turning around to go back for even more. I took this opportunity to leave, saying I had go help Hans. Mama came in the library, asking my Dad to make her a highball. As I was leaving, I heard Dad continuing on with his presentation, now though, it was to Mama.

"As I was just telling Kenny, we can triple the sales of the Lucas company, almost at once." I left them alone, both of them enjoying their conversation. Whenever Dad talked about making money to Mama, it seemed to have the same effect on her that buying them presents of candy and flowers was supposed to have on other women. Even as tired as she must have been from a whole day of shopping, Mama stood there, sipping her new drink, with a smile on her face, one that seemed to be a lot more than merely polite interest. I helped Hans bring in more boxes, bags and stuff. It looked like more than what we'd gotten, the time Mama took me into the city to get all my new clothes. Grace and Jane were helping us bring in the packages too, and the two of them had more energy left than I would have thought possible.

"Jeez, I thought you guys would be almost dead by now, after being out shopping all day with Mama. How did you go through all of that, and still have so much energy?" Both of them looked as me as if they thought I'd lost my mind.

"Kenny, your mom is incredible! She knows all the places to shop, and I'm not just talking about clothes for her either. You wouldn't believe how many different places we went to today, or how many different things we bought. Jane and I will never need to shop for clothes again." Grace was practically bathed in happiness as she told me this. Whatever Mama had done, it had certainly snapped her out of her earlier sadness.

"Kenny, please come in here." Mama sounded like she was angry. I left the girls where we'd been standing, in the crowded hallway, crowded because of all their bags and boxes were stacked everywhere. I went to the library, where Mama started giving my face a close look, touching near the place where Richard had cut me. "Does it still hurt? Why did you let that horrid boy do this to you? Thomas, I want him arrested. This is very unacceptable behavior. I'm going to see him punished for doing this to Kenny. He's bigger and he's older than Kenny too."

"Bertie, relax, I told you it was nothing. Kenny came out of it in far better condition than Richard. Walt's already punished the boy enough. He took playing football away from him for the upcoming season. We've already done all that needs doing. You don't want to smother the boy. He acquitted himself well. I'm certain that Richard's going to think twice before trying him again."

Mama didn't seem convinced by anything Dad had said. The whole time we were there, she was looking my face over, looking for any other signs of injury.

"Did you have a good time today, Mama? The girls sure did. They told me they wouldn't need to buy clothes again." I saw Dad starting to frown when I said that last part.

"Bertie, you didn't? Really. We spoke earlier about that very thing."

"Thomas, these girls are Kenny's friends. I didn't see the harm in it. Besides, they are exaggerating. I had a wonderful time watching them today. They've both had a difficult time, and it won't hurt them to be pampered a little. It isn't as though I'm spoiling them, and that is what you said you feared."

"I'm worried you'll show them this lifestyle for a short while, and, when they leave us, they won't ever be able to create this life for themselves. It would be quite a letdown for them. By the way, I've spoke with Kenny about the other matter we discussed. I'm afraid my message failed to find receptive ears. His mind seems quite made up." I noticed Mama's face when Dad told her this. I recognized the signs from her. She was preparing to dig in too.

I believed Dad had been honest with me, when he told me why Mama was so anxious for Brenda and me to get back together again. This didn't mean Mama had told Dad everything she wanted. I wondered if it would change the way Mama felt if I were to tell her what Brenda had told me when she first found out that Uncle Bunny had dated her mother? Uncle Bunny might love Brenda as if she were his own daughter, but Brenda certainly didn't reciprocate any of his feelings towards her.

"Kenny, it bothers me, this refusal to examine the problems you and Brenda are having. In all likelihood, they could all be resolved if the two of you sat back down and discussed things honestly and openly. Brenda already thinks of me almost as an aunt. I know I could assist the two of you in finding a way around this impasse.

"It isn't anything I need resolved. If Brenda thinks of you as an aunt, it is mostly as a rich aunt. Brenda will tell you whatever she thinks you want to hear. She is very much attracted to money."

"She has told me that as well. Unlike you, I must confess I see no wrong in that. Money is attractive, and there's no use in any of us trying to pretend it isn't. Brenda understands the many doors that would be open to her with the presence of money in her life. I'm sure she doesn't like money for its own sake, because that would be vulgar. She simply appreciates what having money could do for her. To me, this is a very sensible attitude, and one her own mother has labored diligently to make her understand."

"Well said, Bertie." Mama smiled over at Dad, pleased that he agreed with her. He had better agree. He'd already spent all his adult life in the pursuit of money. Making money was all he knew how to do. The better he was at making it, the more approval he received from Mama and Uncle Bunny. I wasn't sure whether they understood it was their approval which motivated Dad to work harder, and to be more successful. He wasn't really working to make money for himself, he worked for their approval.

It was what Uncle Bunny must have meant when he told me to look at what Dad had done with most of the money he'd worked so hard for, over the years. He'd turned right around and thrown it into Mama's hobby. That she'd allowed him to do it showed me she wanted to return to their starting position, her being wealthy, and him lagging very far behind. She had invested about two percent of her total worth in her hobby, while Dad put up about eighty per cent of his. Eighty per cent of what remained after paying the taxes on the twenty two million he had received for his ownership interest when they sold the old company.

It was interesting it was my Dad who paid my tuition at the Academy, out his own, personal, checking account. I wondered if he wasn't a little like Uncle Bunny was, when it came to his relationship with one particular woman. Did Mama whistle anytime she wanted something from him? Maybe that's why he was recommending I get back with Brenda. I wondered if Mama had been using him to try to get me to change my mind about having more to do with Brenda? I was getting a headache trying to figure all of this out. As I left to go help the girls move their new clothes out of the hallway, and into their new room, a wild idea came to me: I had nothing to lose by going along with Mama. Was I resisting just to resist?

I wanted to have sex with Brenda, but I had resisted her, turning her down repeatedly, when she offered it. The reason I didn't want to have sex was because I wanted her to change before I made love to her. Even if every reason I had before was good and valid, so what? It hadn't gotten me any closer to changing Brenda. None of these problems we'd had were diminishing the physical attraction I had for her. Why was I letting what I saw as her flaws determine whether I wanted to have sex with her?

I had really enjoyed having sex with Bea, but I hadn't insisted that she meet any or all of my personality and behavior requirements. I was trying to hold Brenda to a different standard than I'd used for Bea. Mama wanted me to go with Brenda, and Dad wanted what Mama wanted. The only one who really didn't want me to be with Brenda was Mr. Connor. All right, Richard probably wouldn't like me being with her either, but, so what? Richard wasn't important to me

If I decided to go ahead and have sex with Brenda, that wouldn't automatically mean I had to quit asking her to change, or trying to help her change her attitudes. I would have to be sure to tell her first that this was just sex to me, not an endorsement of her other traits, the ones she already knew I was having problems with. If she wanted us to have a real relationship, she'd have to make those changes, but if all she wanted was for me to screw her, I would do it. I had reached a point where I was willing to do things, even when I normally wouldn't choose to, on my own. If Mama was so certain it was what she wanted me to do, I loved her enough to go ahead and do it.

I was amazed at how easy this giving in business was. Had I missed out on a much better time of it at the orphanage, by stubbornly refusing to go along with the what the sister's wanted? There had to be something I was overlooking here. What was it?

If I decided to do this, it would be because of Mama, to show her my appreciation for what her loving me meant. I could justify to myself doing it for Mama. It couldn't ruin my current relationship with Brenda, because I no longer even had one. It might send her the wrong message, by telling her she could get whatever she asked for. I didn't care, because I wasn't just doing it to try to further our relationship. We had no relationship now anyway. There was no reason she should feel any need to make changes for me right now. If I went ahead and did this, perhaps it would provide her with a reason to consider making some changes.

I had made four trips to Grace and Jane's room, carrying packages, while I tried talking myself into adopting this new position. I was tired of resisting all the time, tired of fighting with people I loved, people I needed to love me. I had to find other, less destructive ways, to keep people from forcing me to do what I didn't want to. If I could learn to give in on things I already wanted to do, then, maybe, I could learn how to give in on the other ones too, the ones where the cost of not giving in would be too high for me to pay it. If I was going to start giving in, then pleasing Mama by giving Brenda what she wanted, was as good a place as any to begin it.

We had everything moved out of the downstairs hallway to their room now. A lot of it was stored in an outside closet, so they would have room to walk around in their room. Inside their room, a lot of it was stacked high against the back wall, because there wasn't anyplace else to put it. I said good night to the girls, heading back to the library to let Mama know everything was moved out of the way. When I got there, I found that Mama and Dad had gone up to bed.

I could see that this new way of mine would help me fit in better with my family. I remembered the look on Mama's face after dad told her that my mind was quite made up. If I didn't learn how to give in, I was going to be locked in a big struggle with Mama. Neither of us could hope to win, not if that happened. I didn't want to set something in motion that would pit us on opposite sides again. That was it then. In the morning I'd take Mama aside and tell her she had won. I'd let her arrange things with Brenda. I'd just go ahead and tell her she could arrange whatever she wanted. I'd let Mama make all of the arrangements, and I'd just go along with whatever that meant. I was relieved the decision had now been made, and that a crisis was being averted.

Like Dad, I had to make an action plan. All I'd have to do then was wait for the morning, and then put it into effect. I should be happy I thought. It was now all settled and decided. I was happy, but just a little anxious about the actual act of announcing to Mama my decision. The important thing was for me to immediately show her I wasn't going to fight her over this. That was all she wanted. If she knew I was trying to be reasonable, she'd find a way for me to do what she wanted, without needing us to fight each other.

When I woke up, it was very early. I got cleaned and dressed, then I went downstairs, waiting in the kitchen with Gerta, until Dad came downstairs. We had our breakfast together.

"I'm going to talk to Mama today. I want her to show me the best way to handle my problems with Brenda. I don't want to end up having anymore fights with her about it."

"I'm sure she will appreciate the opportunity to talk to you, Kenny. She's very concerned about your future. She wants only the best for you. If you explain your objections to her, I'm sure she will work with Brenda and Georgia, to try to get them resolved for you. She won't force you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with, but you have to give her reasons for your decisions. It isn't enough to tell her you don't want to do something, not without sharing a reason."

"Well that's good then. I bet you're going to have a lot of good news for Mama and Uncle Bunny when you get home tonight. Did Mama like your action plan?"

"She did, very much. She said she could think of nothing I should do differently. I'm glad I had a chance to speak of it with you beforehand, Kenny. It gave me an opportunity to organize my thoughts. It made a big difference when I explained it to your mother."

"When does Grace start work for you?"

"Monday morning. That will give the girls a weekend to get settled in, and comfortable in their new surroundings. I'm looking forward to teaching her why her ideas just don't hold water in the real world. By the time she heads off to college, she'll understand how supply and demand in the workplace functions."

"She might understand it, but will she change her mind about what she thinks is fair?"

"I'll do my best, Kenny. I remember wondering about just those sorts of things when I went off to the University. I promise you she'll understand how a company like ours scales a payroll. She's fixated on ratios right now, without considering a lot of other important factors that go into arriving at salary's and wages."

"I'm sure both of you will learn something. It must be a long time since you worried about not having enough money."

"No, I'm still worrying about it today. Instead of worrying about having enough to repair my automobile, I worry about having enough money to launch a new product, or acquire a new company. There is never enough money for you to have no worries."

"How about Mama, or Uncle Bunny?"

"They worry about having their money lose value. They might not worry in specific dollar increments, but they expect a certain yield from each investment they make. Your mother has been spending very freely, getting the golf learning center up and running. When it opens, it will be the best she could make it. Whoever she picks to run it will not be happy if he or she doesn't generate an income commensurate with the return on investment she has fixed somewhere in her mind."

"Uncle Bunny says it will probably never be profitable. He said you know it too."

"Bunny is wrong. The center will be in the black within three years. It probably won't ever throw off a return large enough to justify our capital expenditure, but it should be profitable. Your mother has researched this idea rather thoroughly. She knows what is available in our market area. She is counting on wealthy families desiring a summer camp with a goodly amount of social cachet to it. We won't be the "Y". Our clientele will be willing to pay for the uniquely upscale services we will offer. I'm actually very optimistic."

When Dad left, I felt a little better. At least he hadn't said anything to make me think he disagreed with what I was planning. Gerta hadn't said anything either when I spent time with her, telling her some of what I was planning. She knew something was bothering me about doing this. She didn't know how different this was for me. The real test would come when I spoke to Mama. As soon as I thought that, I heard her coming down the stairs. I was still seated at the dining table, but when she approached, I stood up, moving down to be closer to where she sat.

"Good morning, Mama."

"Good morning, sweetie. Let me get some toast and coffee, then we can talk about our plans for today, and for this weekend."

Gerta came in with Mama's toast and coffee, along with three of the little chopped hazel nut sprinkled rolls, one of many German pastries that she liked to tempt Mama with. Each one was only about two small bites, and, often, Mama could be tempted by them. This morning, she drank only a few sips of coffee and she didn't even take a bite of her toast. I waited for her to start telling me about our schedule. When she didn't, I decided to begin telling her my plan.

"When you finish telling me about the weekend, I need to ask for your advice about Brenda." Mama looked at me, over the top of her upraised coffee cup.

"Brenda?"

"Yes. I want to find out what you think I should do. Whenever I try to figure it out, I get confused." Mama put her cup down and patted her mouth with her napkin. She was watching me, deciding whether to accept what I said at face value, or to ask me some questions herself. I saw her reach down and pick up one of the little rolled pastries and take off half of it with her teeth.

"These are always so good, Kenny. Gerta knows all the best ways to tempt me. Tell me what help you want from me with Brenda." The second half quickly followed the first, and then she took another sip of her coffee. I saw over Mama's shoulder, Gerta peeking out from the kitchen door. As soon as she saw Mama chewing, she smiled, and then pulled her head back into the kitchen. From long experience, Gerta knew that Mama would continue eating, for at least awhile.

"I guess she has already told you what we argued about?"

"She told me only that you weren't as serious about her as she was about you. She led me to believe that you were being unresponsive to her expressed need for you to demonstrate more affection towards her."

"She wanted me to have sex with her." Mama picked up a second pastry and plunged the entire thing into her mouth. Gerta came out of the kitchen door carrying two tall glasses of milk. She set the first in front of me, and the second one on the table, easily within reach of either of us. She went back to the kitchen again, returning with a small platter, filled with several kinds of small pastries, which she left in front of me. She looked down once, but only long enough to watch Mama finishing the last of her coffee and reaching for the last pastry on her plate.

"Brenda indicated to me that it was an expression of affection, she was vague concerning the form she wished it to take." Mama reached across for another chocolate pastry with whipped cream stuffed inside. With her free hand, she was also reaching for the other glass of milk. She took a small bite from the center and then a healthy drink of the milk. Again, she patted her mouth with her napkin. "I can't say that this surprises me. I've been given to understand you two have already run through most of the other physical intimacy possibilities. Is it that it's troubling you, this stated willingness of hers, or is it something else that prevents you from desiring to share this with her?"

I thought about what I wanted to say. We'd already covered the problem I was having with Brenda being so openly interested in marrying for money. Apparently, Mama saw that as nothing more than good sense. She approved of Brenda's desire for money.

"Brenda only cares about what she wants. If she doesn't get her way, every time, we end up in a fight."

"This is Georgia's fault, not Brenda's. I've cautioned her many times to not let Brenda get her expectations raised too high. She gets over-exuberant at times, but this is as much an expression of youthful enthusiasm, as from any need on her part to be in control."

"If I did have sex with her, I'm worried she would start to mean no more to me than Bea did. That it would just be sex. That's what I'm trying to avoid. I want it to be more than just sex." Mama had polished off about another half dozen pastries, and was finishing her glass of milk also. She was smiling at me. I guess I'd finally told her something she felt she could deal with, or use to get the two of us together to talk.

"To Brenda, it is more a symbolic gift to you. She's telling you her choice is made, and it is you. Like most men, to you her choice seems to be merely a green light for sex. She is announcing the arrival of her womanhood, and by choosing to announce it with you, she is conferring on you a great honor. She is presenting you with her seal of trust and approval. It is a ritual, as old as Adam and Eve."

"I'm pretty certain she already made her announcement and presentation with Darryl Kingsley, over at her friend, Claudia's, house. She wrote to me, saying she did it with him right after we had another, different, fight. Now, she's claiming she just said that to try to make me jealous."

"Perhaps she did. She wouldn't be the first woman to tell a lie, to make a loved one jealous or angry."

"Maybe it would be easier for me to believe her, if she hadn't told Emily that she'd like it if she went ahead and did it with me. How would Brenda know Emily would like it, if she hadn't already done it herself?"

"You can never be completely sure, but, does that really matter? Brenda wouldn't be your first conquest either."

"It wouldn't matter, except for her lying to me, but if we had sex now, with the way I'm feeling about her, I'm afraid it would only be for the sex. That's why I need your advice. I'm willing to do it, but I'd need to tell Brenda first, because this would be all it meant to me."

"It would be cruel to tell her this. Crueler still, to then use her afterwards. There is every chance that you are wrong, Kenny. Wrong about Darryl, and wrong about it meaning nothing to you, other than sex. Love isn't predictable. If you experienced her love for you, it might soften your feelings, and restore your own love for her."

"I've told you what I believe. I'm pretty sure it would only be sex, but I'll try it, if that's what you want me to do."

"If you went into this without a more positive attitude, it wouldn't be fair to Brenda."

It wasn't going to be enough that I agreed to try it. Mama insisted on my changing my whole attitude. She was practically telling me I needed to do it because I loved Brenda. I couldn't give in that much, not yet. I couldn't do that, not even as much as I wanted to agree to do it her way. Other than giving Mama an appetite, our little talk had solved nothing.

"I don't care about being fair to Brenda. I do care about not getting into an argument with you. I don't want this to get in the way of you being my mother. I'm already feeling terrible because I'm not doing what you want me to do. I can only have sex with Brenda right now. Later, if things were different, I might be able to love her."

"I'm disappointed. You didn't want my advice, you wanted my permission to do what you'd already decided on. Well, I won't give it."

"I'm sorry. I hoped you could suggest a way where we wouldn't have to fight about Brenda."

"I did suggest a way. All you had to do was agree to receive her gift in the same open hearted spirit in which it was being offered to you."

"Mama, I did all of this for you, so you wouldn't have to get all upset with me. It wasn't easy for me to go as far as I have. If you take what I'm trying to do and get mad at me anyway, I'm not sure I'd ever want to try to give in again. This was me showing you I was willing to go along with your wishes. I didn't do this just so I could get back with Brenda, or get to have sex with her."

"Very well. Believe me when I say I know how difficult this can be for someone to do. I do appreciate that you are thinking of me, and of my wishes and hopes. I do appreciate this willingness to discuss the situation, rather than you continuing with your previous position. Let me have some time to think about what you've said, calmly and rationally. It could be that this is more semantics, than it is any real substantive difference. A difference only in how we each choose to approach a common goal. I do have a real problem with you equating Brenda with Bea. If I were assured that you have feelings for Brenda, that this wouldn't be used as a way to hurt her?"

"I do have feelings for her, and I don't want to do anything to hurt her." Mama nodded and smiled. She had made an effort to try to reach an acceptance of her getting less than what she wanted. It was better than open conflict between us. Both of us were wary of finding ourselves back in another one of those situations that had caused me to be enrolled in Clement Academy almost a year previously.

"I'd like to take the girls over to the golf learning center this morning, while you and Dave complete your lesson. They've both expressed an interest in seeing where it is being built. They want to see it in order to better understand the scope of what we're attempting. Also, Jane needs to know where to report on Monday morning. After we've done this, we will come to the club, have some lunch, and then play golf together. I would like to invite Brenda to join us for lunch. In part, so she can meet the girls, and also to judge for myself, if what I've hoped for, with you and Brenda, still has any chance of succeeding. Will you allow me to do this?"

"I saw her yesterday too Mama. I'm not mad at her. We just have different ideas. I don't have any problem eating lunch with her. In fact, lunches are one of the things we do best together."

Hans drove me out to the club for my lesson, while Mama, Grace, and Jane drove over to the land where the learning center was being built. I had a good lesson, working part of the time on increasing my follow through with all of my shots. This lack had been hurting both my distance and consistency. For some reason, I tended to quit before I swung all the way through a shot. I don't know where or how I picked that up, but I knew it really bothered Dave when he discovered I wasn't practicing what he'd taught me, later, during the time I practiced, right after a lesson.

I found out, later, from Dave, that he used to stay out of sight and watch all his students. He was mainly trying to see if they practiced what he'd just got done trying to teach them. He told me Uncle Bunny was the worst one for that. The only club he really liked to practice hitting was the Taylor Made women's driver he had gotten from Mama. Dave told me that Uncle Bunny was the most stubborn student he had ever had.

I was practicing some putting when the limo pulled up with the four of them. Brenda looked very nice. I noticed, as they were walking towards me that Jane hung back a little, watching the way Brenda was walking towards me. I could have sworn her eyes were glued on Brenda's butt. Grace was walking on the other side of Mama, so she didn't see what Jane was doing. Hans was trailing behind the four of them, carrying Grace and Jane's golf bags. He sat the bags down on the pavement, close to mine, and turned around, leaving us. I made a mental note to tell the girls about Hans having that bad back.

Brenda was smiling happily as she drew close. I tried to give her a good smile too, but, I was already having some slight resentment over how this was being orchestrated out.

"Hi, Kenny. Thanks for including me in your lunch plans."

"Hello Brenda, you're looking very nice. I was happy when Mama suggested we invite you. I've missed our lunches." She made a little face. I think she was trying to look like she was pouting. I thought it looked like she had swallowed a gnat, or something that left a bad taste in her mouth.

"You only missed our lunches?" Mama hurried over to Brenda's side, taking her arm and turning her away from me.

"Brenda, let's all go inside and get comfortable, shall we? I'm sure the two of you have a lot of catching up to do." When Mama said that, and started heading towards the club house, I dropped my putter into my bag, putting the balls away as well, before hurrying to catch up with them climbing the stairs leading up to the restaurant.

I was starting to feel tense. After a few more minutes passed, I wasn't the only one. Mama sat down at our table first, patting the seat on her right for Brenda to sit beside her. There was a little awkwardness when Jane took a seat on Brenda's right. Before my mother could tell her it was where she wanted me to sit, I sat down between my mother, and a newly frowning Grace. Brenda was an extremely attractive girl, something which anyone would have to take notice of. Jane was taking her noticing far beyond what would normally be considered acceptable or polite. She was clearly infatuated with Brenda. Brenda appeared oblivious of the effect she was having on Jane. Grace and I both noticed it though, as did Mama, although she wasn't likely to comment on it. Grace, had no such restraint.

"Do you think you should just go sit in her lap, Jane? That's the only way you could be closer than you are." Jane looked at Grace guiltily. She knew she'd been lost in her reverie, but, until Grace had spoken to her about it, she didn't realize anyone else had noticed it.

"I've never seen that combination of hair and skin tone. I'm sorry if I was staring, Brenda."

"That's all right. I'm used to it now. My mother says there has to be someone who had this shade of hair in our family line. I've never seen anyone else with my hair color though." Grace laughed when Brenda posed with her head tilted so that all her highlights sparkled in the light that struck her hair.

"Jane's right, it is unusual. From the way she had her eyes locked on your ass after we left the limo though, Brenda, Jane must think you're a hairy red ass baboon. Is that what you were thinking, Jane?" I laughed, but only because it surprised me that Grace had caught Jane staring at Brenda's ass too. Jane's face got red, and her mouth tightened in anger. I could see where this might turn pretty ugly, quickly.

"I'm having the steak sandwich, Ladies. Anyone else ready to order yet?" Mama turned and showed me a grateful smile. Jane stood up and left to go to the restroom. "Grace, perhaps Jane had that coming to her, but it's upsetting to Mama for you to confront her here in the restaurant."

When Jane returned, instead of sitting next to Brenda, she sat on Grace's left. It was only a one seat difference, but her doing that seemed to calm Grace down. We all took turns talking. Mama, Grace and Jane about the golf learning center, Brenda about her plans for summer vacation, and me, about wanting to eat quick, and get out on the golf course. I wasn't thinking about how it might sound like I was trying to be rude, since Brenda wouldn't be joining us for golf after lunch. Mama reminded me though, by asking Brenda if she wanted to come with us, and drive my golf cart while the other four of us played.

"I don't think Kenny wants me here with him." Brenda looked at me, either wanting, or needing, for me to tell her I did.

"If I didn't want you here, Brenda, I wouldn't have gone to Mama, this morning, and asked her to help me find a way to solve our problems." I looked over at Mama, knowing she would jump in, confirming to Brenda, I had done what I'd just said I had.

"Brenda, it was Kenny that approached me to try to get you two back together. It's unfair for you to doubt his sincerity." Brenda looked at Mama before turning to me.

"Do you want me to come out on the golf course and drive your golf cart? If you do, I'd be happy to go with you."

"I was hoping you would. I don't want to fight anymore." The rest of our lunch went pretty well. I'm pretty sure Grace and Jane were playing some little touching games under the table, while each ate their roast beef sandwiches with one hand. I spent time myself watching the way Brenda tortured her poor shrimp by licking most of the fried batter off of them, before finally biting into them, and chewing the meat into tiny bits, ready to be swallowed.

Later, out on the course, I got slaughtered. My eighty three was the worst score, by a wide margin. Jane led the pack with a two under seventy, followed by Mama at one under seventy one, and Grace shot an even par. I'm pretty sure that at least three pussies got touched in our group, but I was responsible for touching only one of them.

I guess it was about the sixth hole before I was relaxed enough to discuss my concerns with Brenda. She had only waited until I finished putting on the third hole before asking me if I'd changed my mind about screwing her. She didn't call it screwing, but that's what she meant.

"Brenda, are you sure you really want me to do that? We might both be sorry after we do it."

"I won't be sorry. I already knew I wanted to before last summer got done with."

"We need to talk about that thing with Darryl too."

"Emily and I already told you about why I wrote the letter." I could see Brenda didn't like me bringing Darryl's name into this conversation. I didn't want to either, but I felt like we ought to get it out in the open, before we did anything. I didn't want to have to deal with it after we got all the rest of it settled.

I got out of the golf cart and looked at my ball. I had a pretty good lie, but my approach angle wasn't good for the type of shot I'd normally try from this distance. Most times, the correct play would be to take all the trouble out of play, staying to the right, hoping for an up and down par, but taking a double bogey, or worse, completely out of play. A bogey on the hole, from where I was, wasn't too bad. Usually, that's what I'd do. I selected my club, deciding to try to thread a needle into a very narrow opening between two trees. I didn't hit it very well, hitting the tree on the right and bouncing to the left, coming to rest behind another tree. I had to punch out from there, and then made a twelve foot putt after getting on the green with my fifth shot. A one putt double bogey. Brenda hadn't said anything else, since before I hit my second shot into the tree.

I had hit a nice tee shot on the eighth hole before Brenda brought Darryl's name up again.

"You don't believe me about Darryl, do you?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Two reasons. What you said to Emily, about how she'd like doing it with me, and your brother calling you a slut twice. I know he and Darryl hang around together. I think Darryl told Richard what you and he did." We had driven to my ball, so I got out of the cart and selected my club. I was the last one to hit, so I waited quietly behind the cart. When my turn came, I really hit the ball exactly how I wanted to. It landed right in front of the flag stick and rolled up, about two feet past it. From where we were, it looked a lot closer. I thought it was three or four inches from the hole. I made my birdie though.

After the ninth hole, Brenda still hadn't said anything to me about my comments on why I didn't believe her. We pulled up at the club house for a bathroom break, and all four women went to the rest room. I stayed behind, tallying all the scores. They were gone for a long time, and when they came out, Brenda wasn't with them. Mama told me to put her clubs on my cart, because we'd be riding together for the back nine.

"Brenda isn't feeling well, and asked to be excused from continuing on. Georgia is coming to pick her up."

We played the back nine relatively quickly, as serious golfers sometimes will. By the time one of us had hit, the next one was standing over his or her ball, ready to take their next shot. The same was true for putts. We didn't agonize while others waited. By the time it was our turn we had already decided what we were going to do. We were in the limo with Hans, driving home, when Mama spoke to me again about Brenda.

"Call Brenda from your bedroom when you get home. She has something she needs to explain to you, something she couldn't tell you in person."

"I already knew. I just didn't want her thinking I didn't."

"You weren't certain. Certainty makes it possible to put it behind you."

I thought about what Mama said. It had hurt me a lot, when Brenda wrote, telling me what she had done. After, when she had Emily try to lie and cover it up for her, I had tried to believe it, because it was what I wanted to believe. I always had known that Brenda was capable of having done it with Darryl. I'm sure it was partly her curiosity, as well as a way for her to hurt me, that led her to do that. To strike back at me. I hadn't been immune from wanting to strike back at her either. Emily had been partly that for me. A little revenge, just in case the letter had been the truth. I didn't know what else it was, but it turned out to be a lot more complicated by the time Brenda issued her ultimatum, causing all three of us to quit being friendly.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 6

I was sitting on my bed, trying to decide if I should make the call to Brenda or not. It was almost certainly going to be the kind of call where we would end up fighting. I didn't want to fight with her. If she told me she hadn't had sex with Darryl, I was going to get mad. If she told me she had, I was going to get mad. Whenever I ended up getting mad, Brenda got mad too. I decided to hold off on calling her until I had time to figure out a way to talk to her about the Darryl situation, without getting mad. Mama was going to ask me if I'd gotten everything straightened out with Brenda. It was probably better for me to get mad than for Mama to. I picked up the phone and dialed Brenda's number. Of course, Richard answered the phone.

"Hello, this is Kenny Parsons, may I speak to Brenda?"

"I'll get her, hold on." In the background I could hear Richard saying "It's him." A few seconds later, Mrs. Connor picked up the phone.

"Hello, Kenny. This is Georgia Connor. Brenda is resting now, she's in the middle of a migraine headache. She asked me to come get her if you called, Kenny, but I don't want her getting herself excited again. It would be too much if she got upset again, like she was earlier. Can I rely on you to not make her too emotional?"

"No."

"I see. As her mother, I'm afraid I really must insist that you not provoke her anymore today."

"My mother told me to call her. She said Brenda needed to tell me something."

"She does, Kenny, but, there is such a thing as too much. Today, Brenda's already been through too much. Unless you promise me you'll control yourself, and try not to upset her further, I will not allow the two of you to speak together. For Brenda's sake."

"It might be better if we don't talk. I'll tell my mother I tried to call, but Brenda wasn't able to come to the phone." Mrs. Connor agreed that it would be better, and, having that decided, we each said goodbye. I was relieved not to have spoken with Brenda.

Fifteen minutes after I got off the phone, Gerta rang my room, telling me that Emily was calling. I had a pretty good idea what the call would be about, but I wanted to talk to Emily, so I took the call.

"Kenny, Brenda called me a few minutes ago. She's very upset, crying, and talking about you hating her. Her mother wouldn't let her speak to you when you called, so she wants me to tell you what happened over at Claudia's house that time."

"You mean the time you and Brenda wrote me the letter just to make me jealous?"

"She asked me to tell you that. It was because she loved you, and was afraid you wouldn't want to see her anymore, after Darryl."

"I can understand how she would feel that way. What I don't understand was why you went along with it?"

"Why wouldn't I? She's my friend. Haven't you ever lied to help a friend out?"

"No, I don't think so. I haven't had that many friends. I've lied to help me out, though."

"She didn't like anything she did with him."

"I want you to talk more about why you lied to me. It doesn't matter anymore what Brenda did with Darryl. She did it, and there's nothing that can change it. She always thinks she can do anything she wants to, and someone is going to make sure it's all right afterwards. This is the same as you thinking you can lie to me, and I'll just let it go by."

"I don't know how this affects me, it's between you and Brenda. You might be mad because I lied to you, but what can you do about it? Me lying to you isn't a crime, I can do it if I want to. The only reason I'm talking to you now, is because Brenda asked me to call you up and explain about Darryl. She's sorry, and she wishes now she hadn't done anything with him. She told me to tell you it was only one time, and she hated it with him. Do you want to give me any message for her?"

"Sure. Tell her you told me, and that I said it didn't matter, not if I get what I want too. Tell her I said I'm still not screwing her until after I screw you. That's what I want now, to pay me back for her doing it with Darryl, and from you, for lying to me when she asked you to."

"I'm never going to do that with you." Emily tried to act all indignant, but I heard the note of fear in her voice, even while she was trying to sound real assured and positive. She could tell me she wasn't going to do something as many times as she wanted to, but I was starting to suspect there was a lot more going on with Brenda and Emily's friendship than I had previously known or suspected.

I remembered how nonchalant Brenda had been earlier, when Grace commented on Jane's obvious attraction to her. She'd even said she was used to it. I also remembered what she'd said about that time when she was thirteen years old, what happened with Claudia and the hairbrush handles. Brenda had also insisted that I go along with doing that contest thing with Bea, Carol, and her at the club pool. My mind was looking at all of this accumulated information in a whole new light. Brenda seemed to have a much stronger influence with Emily than regular friendship would command. It was enough for me to make some assumptions about Emily and Brenda.

"That's what I was expecting you to say, but I still want you to tell her I said it. You would never let Brenda talk you into doing it with me anyway, would you? I'm sure she's going to be putting a lot more pressure on you now. I wouldn't be surprised if she decided not to let you do it with her anymore, at least not until after you do me." There was the loud click I'd been half expecting. Emily had listened to me for a lot longer than I thought she would. This phone call was almost sure to get me into trouble with Mama, but I was mad at Brenda and Emily both, for what they had been trying to do. Brenda's mother was as bad as they were too. It almost seemed like all of them were trying to deceive me, and when I caught them doing it, none of them wanted to confess and be honest. I was sorry for what this was going to do with Mama, but not sorry enough to just play along, acting like I was stupid, with all of them.

When I came back downstairs, Mama was in the kitchen with Gerta and the girls. They were all sitting at the table, discussing something that had Grace and Jane all excited,

"Kenny, I've had a wonderful idea. I know how much you like Bunny's room, and I was just asking the girls whether they'd be more comfortable sleeping in your room, if we were to move you over to Bunny's room? I thought you might like getting a chance to see how it would be having a suite instead of just a single room?"

"What about Uncle Bunny? How is he going to feel about this?"

"He spends three or four nights a year in that room. His home is a five minute drive from here. We'd set up another office for him in the vacant guest room, the small one that's next to our suite. Gerta tells me she can get Irma and Gwen to come in tomorrow. It shouldn't take more than three or four hours for them to take care of moving everything around. Hans is experiencing some back pain, but the two girls should be able to handle everything. If not, Gerta will call Elizabeth in too. By the time we get back from golfing, everything should be moved."

"I'd like that, but I'd want you to call Uncle Bunny, to make sure he doesn't mind. I wouldn't want him thinking he was being kicked out because of me. I called Brenda, but Mrs. Connor wouldn't let me talk to her." I hoped Mama would be too excited about moving the girls upstairs, to worry about me not speaking to Brenda. Sometimes, she could be distracted from things.

"Gerta mentioned that Emily called, Kenny. Did her call have anything to do with Brenda?" Mama was looking at me with a hard glint in her eyes. I guess she didn't like me trying to outsmart her, anymore than I liked Brenda, Mrs. Connor, and Emily trying that with me.

"Brenda asked her to call me, to explain about Darryl."

"And, did she?"

"Yes, but I told her it didn't really matter, because you can't undo something that's already done."

"Is the matter closed then? Is the issue fully resolved now?"

"I guess it isn't. I wanted Brenda to tell me herself, not use her mother and Emily so she could avoid explaining it to me personally."

"Very well. I happen to agree with you. It's something she should explain herself. I'll speak with Georgia, and we'll set up another meeting. A meeting where you and Brenda will have the privacy your discussion requires. Once this explanation from Brenda takes place, will that resolve things to your satisfaction?"

You had to admire Mama. When it came to things like this, she handled them just like Mother Superior would. She had me pinned down, and I didn't see how I was going to wiggle out from having to tell her about the condition I'd set for forgiving what Brenda did with Darryl.

Uncle Bunny and Dad came through the kitchen door to save me. Dad had taken off early to come home to discuss the outcome from his meeting with Mr. Lucas. He'd phoned Uncle Bunny before he left the office, and they'd both gotten to the house at the same time. Dad started speaking excitedly, but Mama held up a hand, signaling him to stop.

"Just hold up for a bit, Thomas. Kenny, please answer my question. Will this explanation resolve these differences?"

"No, there's something else first, then it will be resolved."

"Something you'd care to share with me?"

"No. Brenda knows what it is, and it's between us. If she wants to get this resolved, it will be. There are other things that we have to get straightened out too, but we're started on that now. I want you to let us work it out from here. If something changes, and we can't do it ourselves, I'll ask for more help from you."

"What do you expect the time frame for all this will be?"

"I'm not sure, but I expect it won't take too long. Now that she's out of school too, we'll probably be seeing a lot more of each other. Can you talk to Uncle Bunny about the room before you and Dad get busy with his things?"

"I'll let you handle it then, as long as I have your assurance that it is your honest intent to come to a resolution where everyone is happy?" I smiled and nodded to her that she had my assurance. "Bunny, I need to let the girls use Kenny's room. The maid's room is woefully inadequate. I want to move Kenny to Daddy's old room, but Kenny is afraid you'll feel bad if I give him your room. He wants you to give your assent to it."

"Certainly. I think it's criminal, not having that room better used. It will be like having your own apartment, Kenny. Just the thing for someone with your youthful energy, and brilliant social potential. I'm sure you'll get far more enjoyment out of it than my father and I ever did." Uncle Bunny was smiling at me. When I looked around, all of them were, even Gerta.

"Well good. I appreciate it Uncle Bunny. I really love that room. Maybe I'll start moving some of my things over from my closet tonight. I hope your bed is as comfortable as mine is."

Mama stood up and gave the girls and me her tight hugs. My parents and Uncle Bunny, left the kitchen to go in the library, to have a few drinks, and hear Dad's news. From the way he had started off, before Mama stopped him, it was going to be good news too. Grace and Jane wanted to come upstairs with me, to help me move my clothes and stuff out of their new room. All three of us were excited. I was the most excited, but not about getting Uncle Bunny's room. If I played my cards right, I could get this thing with Brenda worked out, without Mama finding out the terms I had set for getting back with Brenda.

It took less than half an hour to move all my things into the empty closet in Uncle Bunny's room. The bathroom things took almost no time at all. It went so fast, Grace, Jane and I were able to get all their things upstairs, stacked in my old room, before dinner time.

The table conversation was all about the tentative deal that Dad had worked out with Mr. Lucas. Because his company carried so much debt, Mr. Lucas was willing to almost give his ownership in it away. At least, that's what he was doing according to my father. It was something about his credit lines being called at the bank, that had Mr. Lucas worried the most. It was going to really hurt his ability to operate, and he hadn't been able to arrange any replacement credit lines with another bank.

"Seven million to Rob, and we need to immediately fund the arrears in his company's pension plan. That's only another three million and change. He has total other remaining debt of twenty seven million. Thirty seven million to pick up an asset worth at least twice that much. Worth it in the right hands, of course. The best part is, Fowler, over at the bank, he's so nervous about his exposure with the existing credit lines, he's offered to roll the whole thing into a single, new, forty million dollar operating line. You and Bunny will have to guarantee the new line, but that requires your signatures alone." Dad was looking right at Mama when he finished talking about this new acquisition. He knew her initial reaction would go a long way towards setting the tone for how or whether this opportunity got accepted. His words left little doubt that he was one hundred per cent in favor of going forward with the deal.

"Why should we pay him seven million for a company that his own bank has deemed unworthy of credit? How firm is he on that number? Also, what happens if the company were to fail? Would he be liable for the shortage in the pension funds?" Mama was looking over at Uncle Bunny when she asked the last question. Dad answered before Uncle Bunny had a chance to.

"I negotiated the seven million Bertie, after he demanded twelve, and I already know seven is his minimum figure for doing this deal. He can liquidate some corporate assets, bringing in enough money to pay down his debt to a manageable level, to get things stabilized. He'd prefer a sale, and to keep his employees working, but he says he'll liquidate, if he's forced to do it. The corporation itself is responsible for the shortfalls in the pension plan. It's a defined benefit plan, and the problem comes from the actual investment yield not meeting the investment yield assumptions that were specified when the plan was first designed. There have been several years of negative investment results. These resulted from the incompetent performance put in by their pension plan administrator, an incompetent fool, who just happens to be Ron's son in law. A professional plan manager wouldn't have run into this trouble, but I did nothing to assuage Ron's fears regarding the plan's unfunded liabilities. " Dad was really pushing hard to get this approved.

"Bertie, if Tommy feels this confident in his deal, I think we should both defer to his expertise. When has our doing that not turned out well?" Uncle Bunny generally liked to defer to Dad's opinions, when it came to any business decisions, worrying only about each year's bottom line, the one that appeared on the profit and loss statement. He liked to tell people that he was a lot more interested in getting somewhere, than he was in experiencing the actual journey.

"I was merely asking, Bunny. Questions asked beforehand do not imply any dissatisfaction with his negotiating skills. He and I both find it makes for a better night's sleep, after we've first discussed all the possibilities we can think of."

"Dad, if the banker is giving you all the money to do this, why didn't the bank just buy the company instead?"

"The same reason why we don't go out and buy a bank. We are in the cereal and baking business, not banking. I have no idea of how to manage a bank, and they don't know how to make donuts or cookies. There are also certain needs that we can fill for Ron's company, and he has certain products we have a ready market for. Our two company's will each have their operations enhanced by being combined. We are almost a unique fit for the Lucas Company."

Just then, since we were all sitting around the dinner table, but dinner itself was over, Gerta came in to tell me that Brenda was on the phone, wanting to speak with me. I excused myself, and went up to my old room. I was surprised Brenda would call me so soon. I was sure she'd want to take some time, to figure out what all her options were. Her phoning me so quickly unsettled me.

"Hello?" There was a pause before I heard the connection being transferred to my phone.

"Kenny, why did you say what you did to Emily?"

"Be more specific, Brenda. We talked about several things."

"She said you accused her of doing things with me. Now she's upset and told me to talk to you myself."

"I didn't accuse her of anything. I told her you might threaten to not do things with her, until after she had sex with me."

"Why did you say such a thing? Emily and I aren't like that. She isn't going to do anything with you."

"All right. Anything else you need to tell me?"

"Like what? I've already admitted it about Darryl. There isn't anything else."

"Brenda, I was willing to be friends with you again, because my mother wants that. I was willing to do this for her. I don't know why you even bother to try to hide things from me. In the first place, I seem to always find out anyway, and in the second place, I no longer care that much about what you do."

"You don't really mean that."

"Mama gave me Uncle Bunny's room. Grace and Jane are taking my old one. I'm just telling you that in case you might decide to send Emily over to me. I'd hate for her to go in my old room and find something she likes better than me."

"If you hadn't been so mean to me, I wouldn't have done that with Darryl."

"It doesn't matter to me. What matters is that you're the kind of person who would pick that way to hurt someone. I'm over it, and I'm only going to screw you after Emily and I do it. Other than that, I don't care if I never see you again."

"When your mother finds out the way you've been talking to me, she's going to be mad at you."

"As mad as your father is going to be when he finds out about you and Darryl?"

"I'm going to hang up now, Kenny. Don't try to call me anymore. Even if I was going to do what you wanted before, I'm not now."

"If you hang up, you'll be doing what I want."

I sat there, holding the telephone in my lap. Our conversation had been an ugly one, and still it hadn't made me feel any better. Brenda was right about me being in trouble with Mama, but I had only done what I needed to do. The truth was, I cared more about Brenda than she did about me. She wasn't risking her whole future by saying things to me. I wasn't going to be able to do what Mama wanted. All I could hope for would be to find a way to help her understand that I would have done what she asked, if I could have. I got up and went to Uncle Bunny's room. I went outside to stand on the balcony, looking at the lights from Ridgeline. I could see Emily's house, but not Brenda's.

I hadn't managed to succeed in my attempt to give in. It hadn't been a total failure though. I had a pretty good idea that Mama would be angry, but, I hoped she'd give me a chance to tell her why I hadn't been able to do what she wanted me to.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 7

Saturday morning we all played golf, splitting up first into two threesomes. I played with both my parents, while Uncle Bunny played with Grace and Jane. We went first, and were working on our second round of drinks in the restaurant, before they finally finished up and joined us. Uncle Bunny had made a thirty foot putt on the eighteenth green, to break ninety for the first time in his life. He was still hitting his driver very well. We all had a nice lunch, with everyone seeming in good spirits.

Monday, Dad was going to tell Mr. Lucas that everyone had agreed to the terms of the sale. Mama and Uncle Bunny were going to go into Bolling, on Tuesday, to sign the necessary papers at the bank. On Wednesday, Dad was flying to Omaha, to look over the buildings, meet with key employees, and examine all the other assets of the Lucas company.

We were all sitting together in the back of the limo, heading back home, at about four o'clock, when Mama asked me about the phone call from Brenda the day before. She asked me if she still needed to set up a meeting for Brenda and me. I told her she didn't need to do that now, because Brenda and I still needed a little more time to make some adjustments to this new relationship we were attempting. Mama looked at me, questioning me more with her facial expression, than she had with the words she spoke.

"I'm sure it's going to be fine, Mama. There's still some tension about how things turned out before, but nothing we won't be able to work on over the summer. I'm going to call Brenda tomorrow, and invite her to have lunch with me at the club, on Monday, after I finish my lesson with Dave. You don't have to worry. Brenda and I both want to get everything resolved."

"Georgia phoned me first thing this morning, Kenny. She's not as optimistic as you are. In fact, she thinks the situation is far worse than it was before."

"That's because she doesn't know everything that Brenda and I know. I'll bring Brenda home with me on Monday, and she can have dinner with us. You'll see then."

"Bertie, give the boy some time to sort all of this out. If she's coming over on Monday, you'll be able to see for yourself how they're getting along. Georgia isn't the most reliable judge of these things. She's too caught up in all of this. She isn't able to provide you with an unbiased opinion. I wouldn't consider her opinion to contain any valid assessment of the true situation. It sounds to me like Kenny already has everything well in hand." Dad had ordered and drank at least five highballs at the club. He and Uncle Bunny were celebrating the new acquisition. Mama hadn't participated as much as they had, switching over to iced tea after having only two drinks with alcohol.

Uncle Bunny was asking Grace and Jane whether they wanted to go to the dance at the club that evening. His invitation included all of us, but he was trying to get Grace and Jane feeling more comfortable, socially. Mama begged off when he first asked, because she wanted to be well rested for this fund raiser all of them were going to on Sunday. I think it would have ended right there, with none of us going, until Uncle Bunny happened to mention that the Connors would be there. Grace made the first remark about what Uncle Bunny had said.

"Well, if Goldilocks is going to be there, I'm sure that Jane won't want to miss out." Grace was only teasing Jane, but there was a hint of residual distrust lurking in her remark. I laughed out loud, for some reason. Giving Brenda the nickname Goldilocks just seemed so appropriate to me. Her hair color, and the way very few things pleased her.

"I'm willing. Maybe after you see us dancing together tonight, you'll quit worrying, Mama." I looked at Mama, trying to appear more confident than I felt, hoping to allay her fears about Brenda and me. This whole thing could blow up in my face. It would, if I didn't hurry up and figure out some way to get Brenda calmed back down again. I'd already had enough time to reflect on my earlier venting with Brenda. I realized I'd been pushing her too hard. The main thing was to let her know that I wasn't buying this whole victim routine she was selling. She might have her mother and Mama convinced that she and I were some perfect match, needing only for me to be more reasonable, but I was beginning to understood the way she worked. I understood her better now than I ever had before.

If you totally discounted all of the things she said about liking me, everything else she said had to do only with her wanting money. I didn't really matter to her, and I probably never had. Given a choice between me and Darryl, she had a preference for me. This preference wasn't anything so strong she hadn't been perfectly willing to switch over to Darryl, when she thought the situation called for it.

I needed to adopt Brenda's ability to feel one way, but pretend to really feel another. If I wasn't able to do what Mama required of me, I would pretend to do it, at least until I found something else I could do to please her as much. I was beginning to pay attention to the way everyone who came into contact with Mama had to do something special to please her. We all had roles to play. Gerta and Hans seemed to please her the most consistently. I was going to have a talk with Gerta soon, and ask her for some advice on how to get along good with Mama. I had already learned a lot, just by watching her, and by watching how Dad managed it. I wanted to find some way to please her, just the same as the rest of them did. It meant I'd have to take some lessons and learn how to do that.

We had an early dinner, then all of us went upstairs to dress, except for Uncle Bunny. He went home to get himself ready, telling us he'd meet us at the club at around eight o'clock. I wore a nice looking blue suit. It was a brand new one that Mama had recently purchased it for me. Mama had bought it from the same tailor who was making my new school uniforms for the fall term.

Because of my recent growth spurt, I had already outgrown most of the clothes Mama had bought for me when I first came to live with her. One consequence of all my recent growing was that Uncle Bunny had found a group that was taking all of my outgrown clothes, giving them to a program in Bolling being run for foster care children. Some lucky boys were getting some really nice clothes. Some of these, I'd scarcely worn at all. I also found out that Dad and Uncle Bunny had started a program of donating unsold bakery products from Dad's company to various homes and shelters in the area. Uncle Bunny had done some research, discovering a whole series of tax write offs to be gained for these type of gifts to non profit organizations.

We got to the country club at eight o'clock, all of us except for Uncle Bunny who was late again, as usual. Grace and Jane looked very pretty in their new evening dresses. Mama had loaned them some of her nice jewelry to wear. You could see they were excited to be out at a nice place, and all dressed up. Mama had decided to wear a modern dress, one that made her fit in perfectly with the other ladies at the club.

At eight thirty, Brenda and her family walked into the club restaurant. The band hadn't started playing yet, but everything had already been converted over for the dance. I watched them get a table all the way over on the other side of the room. They were far away from where we were sitting. Brenda was wearing a dress I had seen her wearing once before. It was a gold color, and it just missed looking perfect for her hair. If the dress had been a little darker, or her hair a little lighter, it might have been perfect for her.

I was already planning on how to proceed for the evening. I was planning on dancing with Grace first, followed by Mama, and then Jane. I didn't want to seem too anxious to Brenda. I wanted her to wonder whether I would ask her or not. After I danced with all the women at my table, I planned on then going over to ask Brenda for a dance. If she said yes, then we'd dance. While we were dancing, I'd invite her out to the club for lunch, and maybe, some tennis, on Monday. If she said no, I'd still stand there, and ask her to be my guest for lunch on Monday. If she asked me why I wanted to take her to lunch, I'd tell her it was so we could discuss our differences. If she said no to my invitation for lunch, I was planning on acting surprised by her refusal, and then I'd go ask Mama to help me with Brenda again. It would look like I was trying my best, but Brenda wasn't cooperating. Let Brenda feel Mama's anger, not me.

I didn't even feel bad about planning and performing this deception. I was only doing the same thing all of them always did to me. I'd been over everything several times, satisfied with my action plan. I saw Emily and Gary walking in with their mother, but Mr. Carstairs wasn't with them. Brenda stood up and waved, getting Emily's attention, then pointed to an empty table only about fifteen feet away from theirs. Because of my new flexibility, I quickly amended my action plan to include Emily also. Shortly after Emily arrived, the band started playing, and the lights were dimmed throughout the room. The first song was a slow one, and the man who was playing the piano started to sing.

"Dance with me please, Grace?"

"No thank you, Kenny." I hadn't included that possibility in my action plan. I sat back down, having stood up before I asked Grace to dance. I looked over by the main entrance door, and saw Uncle Bunny walking quickly towards our table. He was forty minutes late, but that wasn't too bad for Uncle Bunny.

"Sorry I'm running late. I couldn't seem to reach anyone on some calls I needed to return. You all look great. Who wants to make this old man happy, and dance with him?" I was surprised to see Grace stand up, offering her hand for Uncle Bunny to take. She had just turned me down a minute before. They walked out on the dance floor to start dancing, and I stood up, heading to the bathroom. When I got back, they were playing a fast dance, and Uncle Bunny was dancing with Jane. My parents were out on the dance floor to, dancing together. Grace stood up, leaving for the restroom, just as soon as I sat down again. I nervously checked my fly, ran my tongue over my front teeth, wishing I'd checked my face in the mirror, to see if I had something stuck on it. I tried to check for boogers too, being as subtle as I could manage while doing it.

My whole action plan disintegrated after, first Jane, and then Mama, refused my offers to dance with them. When Mama suggested I go ask Brenda to dance with me, I realized she had outmaneuvered me again. When the next slow song started, I dutifully went to ask Brenda to dance with me. She hesitated, but only for a few seconds, before standing up to accept my outstretched hand.

"I'm surprised you decided to ask me to dance, Kenny. Especially after all those things you said to me last night."

"My mother told me to come ask you, but I was planning to anyway. I think it's silly for the two of us to be fighting, Brenda. We've got the whole summer in front of us. I was looking forward to us being friends again. I even hoped we could play some doubles together, like we did last year."

"Are you going to apologize to me for all those things you said to me?"

"I'll apologize for all the ones that weren't true."

"All right, go ahead." I stayed silent, smiling at her, as we marked time to the music. "Well?"

"Well what? I already did apologize."

"That wasn't an apology. You have to say you're sorry, then take it all back." The dance ended and I tried to pull Brenda back towards her table, but she stood there, resisting my efforts to do so. "I'm waiting, Kenny."

"Do you like the dresses that Jane and Grace are wearing? Mama bought both of them so many new clothes. It took us almost an hour to bring them all in from the limo. I think she really likes both of them a lot." Brenda looked over at our table, looking to see for herself, the two dresses they were wearing. I could almost feel the disappointment and yearning emanating from inside Brenda's little cash register, the one she substituted in place of a missing heart. "We had fun that time we all went to Springfield. Remember, we bought all that discounted stuff from that one clothing store that was closing? Isn't what your wearing tonight one of the dresses we bought then?"

"Why are you being so mean to me? All I've ever wanted was for us to be a couple. Most of the trouble has been because of you." Brenda looked close to turning on the tears.

"We can have a lot of lunches at the club, have fun at the pool and play tennis, Brenda. We can do a lot of things together, but we aren't going to be a couple. I can play the same game you've been playing, if that's what you want. I'll tell my mother I invited you for all the things I talked about, but I'll tell her you wanted even more. She already knows a little bit about how you are, and I can make her believe this whole thing is all your fault. Is that what you want?"

"You're ruining it for me, Kenny. I wanted us to be married and everything, but now, it's ruined."

"You can marry Darryl. He has money, and maybe I'll be willing to screw you after you do. When I find someone who just loves me, and not my parent's money, I'll quit doing stuff with you. It won't be so bad, you and Darryl will still have each other. He'll sneak over and screw Claudia, and you can sneak over to screw me. If you want, I'll let you bring Emily over too, and we can both take turns with her."

Brenda walked away from me then, her tears all but forgotten, replaced by an anger so great, it made her face very red. I looked at her walking away. I tried to look like a rejected suitor, hurt by being spurned. When I returned to our table, I told Mama that Brenda wouldn't agree to stop seeing Darryl. I told her this was something I needed before Brenda and I could get back together as a couple. I wanted to see how Brenda was going to explain this to her mom and mine. Even if she denied it, which I was sure she would, I could say she was lying to them.

Ten minutes after Brenda walked away from me, she and Emily both got up, heading off to the ladies room. Seeing them leave, Mama got up, going over to greet the remaining Connors. Her real purpose was to have a little tete a tete with Brenda's mom. I pretended to pay attention to the other dancers still out on the dance floor. There was a short intermission after the next song, and I saw Brenda and Emily coming back. There was a hurried wrapping up of their discussion by our moms, and then my mom took Brenda aside, to greet her, but also to ask her some questions about what I'd told her. It was funny watching Brenda shaking her head no to my mother, and then the look of fear on her face, when my mother laid down the law to her. This was something I found very satisfying. It was Brenda's lies and deceptions that started all of this turmoil between Mama and me. Now, she was finding out I was willing to do the same to her.

When the band came back, I went over to Emily's table, asking her to dance. She tried to refuse, at first, but her mother almost forced her to accept. I hadn't seen Emily dancing with anyone at the dance, but there were only a few young guys there. I knew that she didn't get along with Richard at all. If she was going to dance, it was probably either me or Uncle Bunny, as most of the men were busy drinking, or else dancing with their wives. Finally, when the song was almost half over, Emily agreed to dance with me.

"Why are you mad at me, Emily? I'm just doing the same thing you and Brenda do?"

"You don't have to be so mean to her, Kenny. When she gets upset like this, it isn't much fun being around her. I wish you'd either decide to stop being friends at all, or else make up with each other. Right now, all I do is listen to her complaining about all the things you're doing."

"I offered to be friends with her, but that isn't what she wants."

"She really loves you, Kenny. You don't believe it, but she does."

"Emily, that isn't true. She might say she loves me, but look how she really acts. Would you do what she did, if you really loved someone? She wants to marry someone with money, and I don't think she cares who it is. Her plans for the rest of the time, after she's married someone rich, is to go on doing whatever makes her happy. She doesn't care if anyone else is happy, not as long as she is. I told her I'd do fun things with her, but I didn't want to be more than friends. I'm even willing to do all the sex things she wants to do. After you let me screw you one time."

"She told me you still want me to let you do it to me, but I told her the same thing I told you. I'm not going to do it. She and I are friends, but not that good of friends."

"I don't know why you are so set on not doing it with me. It isn't that much more than we already did. I just need for you to do it one time, and then I wouldn't bother you about it again. You need to pay me for lying to me like that. You might like it enough to want to do it more too. Even if you didn't, Brenda would owe you a lot for helping her out."

"You've really changed a lot, Kenny. You've gotten meaner. I used to think you were too nice, but not anymore." The music stopped and Emily dropped my hand and moved back. "Take me back to my table, Kenny. Please don't ask me for anymore dances." I took her back and went over to our table, sitting in my regular seat, next to Mama.

"Emily's going to talk to Brenda for me. She says Brenda doesn't even like Darryl that much. She thinks it might be another boy, but she doesn't have any idea who it is." Mama listened to me until I was finished, then she spent the next ten minutes staring over at the Connor table. I waited, wondering what she was going to do. She placed her hand over mine, squeezing it, never taking her eyes off of Brenda while she did so. I was looking at the Connor table too, and I saw Brenda frown when Mama put her hand over mine. Brenda knew I was sitting there, scoring points with Mama at her expense.

Not much else happened until right before the dance finished. Brenda came over to our table, asking me to dance with her. We started out towards the center of the dance floor, but Brenda pulled me over to the back, closer to the stand which the band played from.

"Why did you tell that lie to your Mother?"

"Which lie? I told her several. It doesn't matter which one, I guess. I just wanted you to know I could do the same things you're always doing. I'm going to keep telling my mother about the bad way you treat me, even if I have to make it all up. Now that she knows for sure that you screwed Darryl, she'll believe me when I tell her about all the other things you're doing. You don't play fair, so I'm not going to either. Before this is finished, your mom and mine are going to be pulling out each other's hair, and my father is going to put your father out of business. Did you know it was my mother's father who made your grandfather lose all of his money? That was because your father said something to him, something he didn't like very much. You better be careful if you don't want history to repeat itself."

"You're lying. That wasn't the reason he went broke."

"My father told me, Brenda. He was right there when it happened too. I'm willing to treat you nice again, but not if you keep trying to get your way all the time, and using all these other people against me. I want you to stop pretending things are different with us than they are. You told me once that I may as well be rich, because of the way I get to live like I do. I really believe you're going to marry a rich guy someday, but I know it won't be me.

I know a lot of boys at the Academy, boys whose parents are as rich, or richer than mine. We can be good friends, helping each other, or we can not be friends, staying away from each other. I wouldn't want us to have to be enemies, trying to hurt each other, but if this is what you want, I'll do it that way too."

"I really do like you a lot more than I like anyone else, Kenny. I probably still love you. I want us to be back together, just like before."

"You had the chance for that to happen, Brenda, but now, too much has gone wrong between us. If I were you, I'd take one of those two choices I'm offering you now. If you decide to do it any other way, I don't think you're going to like being poor."

"Can we at least leave Emily out of it? She's really mad about us bringing her into our problems."

"I told her what I wanted from her. She told me she lied to help out her friend. She said she can lie to me if she wants to, and I can't do anything. This is the price she has to pay me for what she did. When that's done, Emily can do whatever she wants, from then on." We were still out there dancing after three slow songs in a row, but then the band started playing a fast song, and we left the dance floor. Brenda had all but confirmed she wanted us to be friends. She was listening to what I was telling her, something she hadn't been willing to do before. "I'm going to stop by our table before I take you back to yours. Smile at Mama, and agree with whatever I'm telling her. We need to make sure Mama can see that you're happy with me again. You don't want her being mad at you if you can help it."

We got to our table, and Mama could plainly see that Brenda and I were holding hands. I had a smile on my face, as did Brenda.

"Mama, I've got some good news to report. Brenda and I have patched up all our differences. She's agreed to stop seeing Darryl, haven't you sweetie?" Brenda's smile faded away when I said that about Darryl. I was pretty sure she had already denied she was still seeing Darryl when Mama questioned her. I squeezed her hand to remind her what we had just agreed on. The smile returned, and Brenda then nodded her head about what I'd just said. "Can Brenda and Emily come over tomorrow, to look at my new room, and to help me to get it organized?"

Again, Brenda's smile faded. I knew it had faded this time because I had included Emily in my request. Mama went along with it though, telling me it would be fine if they both came over. I knew that both my parents, and Uncle Bunny, would be up in Bolling, at some political or charity fund raiser for a good part of the afternoon and evening. I wasn't sure what Grace and Jane had planned, but it didn't worry me. It would be Brenda's job to talk Emily into coming over with her.

I ask Mama to excuse us then, taking Brenda back to her table. I made sure she didn't have any chance to argue with me, or even say anything to me, before I got her back over to her family. With the path I chose, we were never out of other people's hearing range. I only stayed at Brenda's table long enough to say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Connor, even nodding my head in Richard's direction. I had no more than gotten back to my table before the band stopped playing, and the dance was over. The four hours had passed quickly, but I had a good feeling about the progress I'd made there. The most important thing was that Mama was now satisfied that I really had worked things out with Brenda. If she stuck by what she had agreed to, we really had worked things out. Maybe not the way Mama had in mind for us, but still, we were back together in a way.

Sunday morning, Brenda called me at ten, saying only she would be coming. I stopped her, reminding her the invitation was for Emily and her. She tried to talk her way around it, but I was firm with her, saying I needed to talk with both of them at the same time, and this was an important part of our agreement.

"She won't do it with you, Kenny. She told me she wouldn't. She doesn't want to have anything to do with you. This isn't my fault, I asked her like you told me to."

"Brenda, I'm sure you have better control over Emily than that. I suggest you find some way to have her here for lunch at noon. I'm having Gerta make us all stuffed, baked lobster tails. She already defrosted them. Grace and Jane are going somewhere in an hour, and Gerta and Hans are taking off right after he gets back from dropping off my parents. We'll have the whole house all to ourselves, for the whole afternoon."

"Kenny, I've already asked her to come with me, but she won't. We don't really need her there with us anyway. I'd rather have today just be for the two of us."

"This isn't a very good beginning for our new understanding. I guess you didn't believe what I said to you last night."

"I can get Claudia to come. I'm sure she'd like to see your new room."

"That might be how Darryl would do things, but not me. I'm particular about who I do things with. I don't want Claudia. If I did, I'd call her myself. If only one person comes over here today, it will be Emily. Do you understand that? I don't mind if she doesn't want to do anything with me today, I can wait, but I want her to know she was wrong when she told me I couldn't do anything about her lying to me. "

We got off the phone, with Brenda saying she'd try harder to get Emily to change her mind about coming over. I didn't care that much if either of them came over. Having her tell my mother she was coming over had been all I really needed. I was hoping that Brenda would think I was being unreasonable, and decide being friends with me just wasn't worth the effort.

Jane and Grace left in Jane's car at eleven, and my parents left in the limo with Hans a short time after. The plan was for Hans to be back before one o'clock to take Gerta over to friends of theirs in Gaston, the next little town over to the west of Ridgeline.

At twelve fifteen, Brenda and Emily rang the front doorbell. Emily looked nervous and upset. She only picked at her food, twice speaking rather sharply to Brenda, after Brenda told her not to be so grumpy. After lunch, I went and thanked Gerta for the nice lunch, telling her the girls and I would be up in my new room. I told her I hoped she'd have a nice visit with her friends.

Inside my new room, there were two very different moods represented. Emily was silent, and for the most part, hostile towards both Brenda and me. If any of this hostility troubled Brenda, you sure couldn't tell it from the way she was acting. She seemed to be bursting with excitement and energy. Even though she'd taken a full tour of Uncle Bunny's room at least twice before, she went around and inspected every part of the suite.

"Kenny, I got Emily to come here today, but I had to promise her we were only going to be talking. Don't try to make her do anything besides talk, okay?"

"Emily, is that what you want? Just to talk?"

"I don't even want to be here for that. I don't have anything more I want to say to you. I still think you're just trying to hurt us to get back at us for the Darryl thing."

"I'm not trying to hurt you at all. In fact, if you want to leave right now, you can. I was mostly curious to see if Brenda could make you come here, up to my bedroom, when I knew you didn't want to be here." I was curious about how Brenda had done it, but I knew I could get her to tell me, once we were in the room, all alone.

"If I leave, do you promise not to be mad at Brenda because I left?" Emily was clearly surprised, and a little distrustful of my apparent willingness to just allow her to leave. She had expected me to insist that she stay.

"Brenda, you can go too, or you can stay, if you want to." Brenda stayed sitting on my bed, smiling at me. "Do you want to stay here?"

"Sure. What are we going to do?" I could see the sharp disappointment Brenda's answer caused for Emily.

"Well, I think we should be able to manage okay when we're alone up here. I'm sure we'll think of something to do that's fun."

"Brenda, walk me home first, I need to talk to you about something." Emily was looking more upset and distressed now, than she had been before I told her she could just leave. At first, it looked like Brenda was going to refuse to go with her, but I told her it was probably a good idea. I told her it might be better if we waited until after Hans came back, to take Gerta over for their visit with friends.

I walked them down the stairs, and we all went together, as far as the driveway fountain. Brenda told me she'd be back in a few minutes. I told her to take as much time as she needed. After they started walking back to Emily's house, I turned around, walking back to mine.

It was two thirty before Brenda made it back from Emily's house. For awhile there, I thought she wasn't going to be coming back at all. When I told her that, she blamed her late return on Emily, saying she had to promise Emily she wouldn't do certain things with me in order to not have Emily worry about her. Emily hadn't wanted her to return.

"Is she jealous? What did you promise her you wouldn't do?"

"I really wish you wouldn't keep saying things like that, Kenny. She's my friend, and she worries because she doesn't trust you now. She thinks you want to hurt me, to get back at me for Darryl."

"I don't want to hurt you, but I don't want to love you either. Was Emily surprised when I told her she could go home? What did you promise not to do?"

"She was suspicious. She made me promise not to let you do what Darryl did. I'm going to try my best to make you love me, Kenny, and I'm hoping you will do what Darryl did. Your mother warned me about making anymore mistakes. She says I need to earn my way back to where we were before. I can do that."

"Brenda, I already told you we could only be friends now. If we do it, it will just be for the sex. There isn't any love between us now. As for my mother or yours, you can either listen to me, or keep listening to them. Remember who it is you're trying to get along with, because that's me. I know what I want, and it isn't to have you trying to make me love you. If you try that, we can't be friends anymore."

"What am I supposed to tell them when they ask me questions about how we're doing?"

"Tell them everything is fine. It will be fine too, just as long as you listen to me when I tell you what I want. I'll listen to you too, but, you can't just decide to get mad anytime you want to. Tell me what I'm doing that you don't like, but don't keep getting mad and causing me problems. I don't like always having problems when we do things."

"We are going to do things though? If we aren't, then I think Emily is right. She says you just want to get back at me."

"Emily is afraid I'm going to get you to stop doing things with her, but I'm not." I watched Brenda's face. This was something we had to deal with. If Brenda and I were going to be friends, she couldn't think she was keeping those kind of important secrets from me. I waited for her to decide on how to reply. She took her time. If she believed me about what I'd been telling her, she'd be honest. If she didn't believe me, she'd try to lie to me. I wanted to see if we'd made any progress or, if we hadn't.

"She likes to play with me that way, Kenny, but I'll stop right now if you ask me to. I told her already that I'll stop playing, if it bothers you."

"It doesn't bother me. It's all right for you to tell Emily that you admitted it to me, and I don't mind. If there is anything else that you've been doing, anything that I don't already know about, I'd like you to tell me now if there is. I'd like to know about it before the two of us begin playing again."

"Do you mean what I'm doing now, or everything I've done before?"

"Everything."

"Okay. I told you about playing with Claudia when I was younger. You know about Darryl. There was this other boy, at school, a couple months ago. We made out a few times, at Claudia's, after school, but I never let him do it to me. I let him touch me though, on top, and between my legs, too. Emily and I have played together a lot, since that time when you wouldn't do it with me, after I asked you to. That's it, except I let Gary see me without any of my clothes on. It was only the one time, and I did it after Emily dared me to. That's all."

We had gone up to my bedroom before we started talking about this, and Brenda and I were sitting on my new bed, fully clothed. There was an air of excitement and anticipation, which both of us were feeling. I knew we were going to be doing sex things pretty soon, and I was getting nervous, wondering how it was going to turn out.

I had expected, when I first invited her to come to my room, that I was setting up something equivalent to what I'd done with Bea. Sitting there with Brenda on my bed, I could feel my heart already beating much faster than usual. It wasn't going to be like it had been with Bea. When I looked over at Brenda, I noticed the smile she couldn't suppress. She knew I wasn't going to be anymore immune to her allure than Jane, Emily or any of the others had been. When I had set this meeting up at the dance, I'd been very confident that I was really over my emotional attachment to Brenda. Was it just wishful thinking on my part? I didn't understand this happening then, because the night before, even when we danced, I hadn't felt anything like what I was feeling with her sitting beside me in my bedroom.

"Take your clothes off for me, Brenda. I want to see how you look naked now." I expected her to comply, and I was curious as to how I'd respond to it. She wasted no time with any pretended coyness, standing up alongside my bed, and shrugging out of her top and jeans. She did this without any fanfare, acting as if my request was a natural one for me to have made. It was all very matter of fact. She undid her bra straps next, reaching behind her to unhook the metal fastener clasps. When she slid her panties down, I could see her red pubic hair had increased in its fullness. It wasn't just wispy red strands anymore, now it was a full blown thatch of hair. Her breasts had grown fuller and rounder as well. In the time we'd spent apart, Brenda had undergone several physical changes. All of these changes were improvements over how she'd looked before. She had matured, at least physically. I had to remind myself to take normal breaths. "You got even prettier. It was harder to tell when you were dressed. Seeing you like this though, I see a lot of changes."

"Aren't you going to get undressed too?" I thought about what she'd asked. I had planned on getting undressed, but that was before I realized how wrong I'd been about being over my feelings for Brenda. I felt repelled and attracted, both, at the same time. I knew I wasn't able to trust myself right then.

It was supposed to have been easier for me. We would just have sex, then I'd tell her it wasn't anything special to me. My theory was that Brenda's ego wouldn't be able to accept my thinking she was just ordinary. I was sure she would pull back from me, being satisfied, from then on, for the two of us to just to be casual friends. I thought I'd buy her some lunches at the club, and play a little tennis with her sometimes.

"I don't think so. I still haven't gotten what I want from Emily. You look too tempting. I might lose control, and take it too far."

"You said we were going to have fun. I came back because you said that."

"Did you do something with Emily after you left here with her?"

"No, she was just trying to talk me out of coming back here. We don't play all the time. I can stop it altogether if you want me to. We're just playing, it isn't anything more than that." Brenda was sitting back down on the bed while she spoke. She had been touching herself, using her hands and fingers on her breasts and nipples. I watched her, mesmerized as her hands slowly caressed her chest. When she was certain she had my full attention, she parted her legs a little, moving her hands lower, to just above the vee, idly running her fingers through her pubic patch. "I don't know why you keep bringing up Emily, Kenny. She doesn't like you anymore. I like you, and I'm willing to do anything she could do with you. I've been waiting a long time for you to put it in me."

"Brenda, if we were to do it, it would be like what I used to do with Bea. It wouldn't be what you're hoping for. It would just be sex."

"It might be like that for you, Kenny, but not for me. Darryl was like that for me, I didn't feel anything when we did it. I'm sure it will be different when you and I do it. I feel different already, just because it's you. Everything we've ever done together has been better than when I've done it with someone else. I'm sure this will be different too, and better."

Have you ever felt your strong resolve melt into nothingness? That's just what happened to me. I was out of practice with being stubborn, and I had gotten too used to having nice things in my life. Even while I was pretending I was trying to decide what to do, my fingers were pulling buttons through their holes and loosening my belt buckle. It didn't take long before I was dressed the same way Brenda was, and the two of us were rolling around on the bed, intent on feeling and tasting whatever we could get to. The only interruption in our progress came when Brenda saw me opening the foil pack on a condom.

"You don't need that, I'm on the pill, remember? I won't get pregnant. I want to feel you in me."

"You'll feel me, but I'm wearing this rubber because I'm worried about other things besides pregnancy."

"I only did it once, Kenny, for five minutes. I would already know if I had something."

"I'm still wearing it. If you want to stop because of that, we can." Boy, I hoped she wasn't going to stop. I was definitely ready right then. If she had insisted, I wasn't sure what my response would have been. She didn't insist. It wasn't really good sex like I'd had with Bea. It was better! The first time didn't last too long, but I just kept going. It felt too good for me to stop. The second time, it seemed like the two of us were learning the best ways for us to move together. A lot of what Bea had taught me came back that second time. The first time, I wasn't doing any thinking at all. I started recognizing all the signals from Brenda, whenever I did something that she really liked, I knew it. After awhile, all of those things kind of ran together for me, and whatever I did, it seemed like it was something she really liked.

We went through three of my rubbers, pausing long enough between the actual sex, to throw the old rubber in the toilet, and to take showers together, to get all of the sweat off of us. The way we were doing it, we both ended up sweating like we'd played three long sets of tennis in the hot sun.

We laughed a lot, and made a host of other noises, but we didn't talk. I don't know why Brenda wasn't talking, but I stayed quiet because I was afraid of ruining things. There would be plenty of time for me to ruin things after we got done. I wanted to have this one time without anything spoiling it. When we stopped, it was kind of a mutual decision. My dick had gone all soft, and I couldn't seem to get enough air. That, coupled with Brenda pushing me away with both of her feet, let me know that we were done with our first venture into having actual sex. We had ended up on the edges of both sides of my bed, as far apart as we could get and still both be in bed. We were on our sides, looking at each other. I didn't know what to say.

It had been an incredible experience. I had learned a lot about myself from making love with Brenda. I understood another setting on the sexual pleasure scale now. If making myself cum with my hand was the number one setting, having sex with Bea was the number two setting. Making love with Brenda had been the number three setting. I had real emotional feelings for Brenda, and that fact had made what we'd just finished doing mean much more to me. It was like the difference after you added sound and color to a movie. What made it even more exciting was finding out that my emotional feelings for Brenda weren't as overpowering as I was afraid they'd be. She wasn't going to be my great love, and I was now sure of it. She was closer to being that love than Bea had been, by a wide margin. My being with Brenda hadn't produced anything like the raw emotional response I'd gotten from seeing Grace running her hand over Jane's cheek. If making love with Brenda was a number three on the sexual pleasure scale, That touch was a number five setting on the love scale to me. Sexual pleasure with that kind of love is what I wanted to find. I knew I'd seen what I wanted. I also knew I wasn't going to settle for any less than that.

Brenda was full of plans and questions after we had both caught our breaths and recovered somewhat from the intensity of our lovemaking. I listened to her, and tried to answer her as honestly as I could. She insisted it had been incredible, while all I would admit was I had thoroughly enjoyed the experience too. I told her I'd like to have lunch with her at the club on Monday, and we planned on practicing tennis in the afternoon. Both of us would bring our swim suits too. Before we walked over to Emily's, Brenda asked me again if I wanted her to tell Emily they couldn't play anymore. I told her I didn't mind her doing that with Emily. I thought about saying something about Claudia, but, in the end, I decided not to. She asked me if we were going steady, and I told her no, admitting I was still planning on screwing Emily.

After I told Brenda that, she looked at me. I wondered if my answer had surprised her much. To take her mind off what I had told her, I asked her if she was going to tell Emily that we'd spent all afternoon in bed, screwing.

"I'll tell her, because we both knew I was going to. If I told her we didn't, she wouldn't trust me anymore."

"Are you going to help me convince her she should let me screw her too?"

"I don't think I'll even need to convince her. After she finds out that we did it, she's going to want me to tell her all about it. When I tell her I did it with you, she'll want to do it with you too. That's what happened with Darryl."

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 8

"I don't think I'll even need to convince her. After she finds out that we did it, she's going to want me to tell her all about it. When I tell her I did it with you, she'll want to do it with you too. That's what happened with Darryl."

I listened as my mind played back to me everything Brenda had just said. Was Brenda saying that Emily had screwed Darryl too? I tried not to let my surprise show on my face. I was also trying to come up with some response that would keep her talking, without showing her how interested I was in finding out what had happened with Darryl.

"Maybe she just liked Darryl, and she used you doing it with him as an excuse?"

"She doesn't like Darryl. She did it so she could keep up with me. Don't you remember what happened when I told her about you licking my kitty that first time? She called you right away, to ask you to lick hers too."

"She chickened out though. The first time, after she called me, she didn't do anything with me. I thought she was just a tease. When we finally did it, she acted like she'd never done anything before."

"She told me all about it, Kenny, from the first time before dinner, to all that happened after dinner. She was even bragging about how she did it to you too, after you did her again. She didn't like you squirting in her mouth though. She kept telling me how close she came to going all the way with you. I told her I'd never speak to her again if she did that. The night she was at your house, that was the same night she dared me to get naked, and show myself to Gary. She was looking at me more than he was. I knew she had asked me to do it because she wanted to see me naked too. She acted just like any guy would, when she saw me without my clothes. Gary took a quick look, got all embarrassed and went back to his own bedroom."

"You think that's why she screwed Darryl then, because you did?"

"She didn't screw him, I didn't say she screwed him, but she told me she really wanted to. She even called him up and invited him over to her house, but Darryl said he was still going out with Claudia. He told her he'd call her back, but he never has."

"Call her now. I want to hear what she says when you tell her we screwed. You call her from the living room phone, and I'll listen in from the kitchen."

"I'm not going to do that. I'll go over to her house and tell her. After I tell her, we'll call you, if she wants to talk to you. She's still my best friend, Kenny. I won't trick her like that."

"Do you want me to walk you over there? Maybe she'll ask us both in. I'd kind of like to see how she takes the news about us doing it."

"You can walk me there, but you have to promise to leave if she doesn't ask you in on her own. Emily is funny sometimes. She gets upset when things don't go her way."

I had to choke down my urge to make some sarcastic reply to her statement. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. I was surprised Brenda had the nerve to say something like that to me, especially with our history together. She not only said it, she was serious in thinking that Emily was unique in being that way.

We got ready, then went downstairs for our walk over to Emily's house. We held hands as we walked, and I listened to Brenda talking. She was mostly talking about how her life was going to be, after she got older, and had succeeded in putting herself in a position to live like she wanted. In her mind, there could be no doubt her plans would all work out. She was careful not to come out and say her plan still included her marrying me, but nothing she said contradicted that possibility either.

When we got to Emily's, we both skirted around a chained up Brownie, winding up on the porch, with Brenda pressing the doorbell. Emily opened the door, a little agitated at seeing me with Brenda. She didn't seem inclined to invite me inside.

"Get away from my house, Kenny! Brenda, why did you have to bring him here?"

"He wanted to come. We just thought it would be nice if he walked here with me. Can we come inside?"

"You can, but not him." Brenda smiled and shrugged her shoulders at me, as if to say she tried her best. I took her in my arms and gave her a final kiss, more to annoy Emily, than from any real need I felt to kiss her. Brenda didn't resist, or try to pull away from my embrace. The kiss was only for a few seconds, and I made sure Emily knew it was me who was ending it, not Brenda.

"Call me later, okay?" I waved to her as I backed off the porch. I wished there was a way I could have heard the first five or ten minutes of their conversation. I had a pretty good idea about what it was going to sound like. I had a thousand questions I wanted to ask both of them. I was dying to know if Brenda's prediction was going to turn out to be accurate. I wanted to see the two of them playing with each other too. On the walk home, I thought of several interesting combinations for the three of us. I'd already had four cums that day, but before I got to my house again, I had a big boner in my pants, all from the things I'd been thinking about. I had been home for an hour before Brenda and Emily called me, from Emily's house.

"Kenny, Emily wants to talk to you. She wants to ask you some questions." Before I could respond to Brenda, Emily got on the phone.

"You're a big liar Kenny, you know that? You said you weren't going to do it to Brenda, not until I let you do it to me. That's exactly what you said."

"I wasn't going to, but Brenda took off all her clothes and she tempted me. She was too beautiful for me to be able to resist her. I just changed my mind."

"Well, you weren't supposed to. She wasn't supposed to let you either."

"So? I still don't understand how our doing it affects you. Are you jealous?"

"It affects me because Brenda's my friend, and because you lied to me, and I believed you."

"It's not a crime for me to lie to you, Emily. I can lie to you if I want to, and there's nothing you can do about it. You're the one who told me that. This is really between you and Brenda, I shouldn't have to be involved in it. I already told Brenda I didn't mind the two of you playing together. I won't stop you from doing things with her."

"Stop! This is what I meant before, about you being mean now. How could you treat Brenda like that? You knew she cared about you, but you still went ahead and did it to her."

"She wanted to, and I wanted to. How is that treating her bad?"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, not if you're going to pretend to be stupid."

"I'm not pretending. I don't understand why you think I'm being mean, or treating Brenda bad. She's been wanting me to do that for a long time. Hell, Emily, you asked me to do it with her yourself. You wanted to watch us doing it. Is that why you're so mad? Because we didn't let you watch? You could have stayed, but you wanted to leave, remember? You can watch us the next time."

"There isn't going to be a next time, Brenda promised me."

"She promised you she wouldn't do anything this time, Emily. Brenda will make lots of promises. It's keeping them that she isn't too good at. Did she tell you it was good? That's what she told me. She's coming to my house tomorrow night for dinner too. After, we'll be going up to my bedroom."

"If I asked you nice, to please not to do it with her anymore, would you stop?" Emily sounded like she already knew what my answer was going to be. Her voice seemed resigned to hearing that I wouldn't.

"No. If I asked you nice to stop, would you?" I didn't want her to stop doing things with Brenda. I was satisfied to be friends with Brenda now. In a way, it was like how I had felt about Bea. The difference was I felt much closer to Brenda than I ever did to Bea.

"If I tell you no, are you going to make her stop?" Again, Emily seemed prepared to hear the worst.

"No. Why should I do that? You know it's just playing with Brenda, right? She does it just because it feels good. You might love her, but she doesn't feel the same way."

"I know that. She can't help if that's the way she feels. I already knew it was just playing for her."

"If it helps any, I like her a lot, but I don't love her, and I won't ever. She doesn't love me either though."

"She does. You never heard her talk about you, but I have."

"That's because you aren't listening good to what she's saying. She loves the idea of having money, not necessarily the person who makes her having it possible. Listen when she describes me, or anyone she's interested in. How much is what she's saying about the person, and how much is about what the person has, or what she'd have with that person?" There was silence on their end when I finished speaking. It only lasted for a few seconds, then Brenda came back on the line again.

"Kenny, did you tell Emily I didn't love you? I do, more now than before, even. It hurts me when you tell people I don't really love you."

"Brenda, it doesn't matter, does it? If you want to say you do, I don't mind. I know what I think, and it isn't love I see coming from you. If it was, then I wouldn't able to be friends with you like we've talked about. Put Emily back on again."

"I can't, she left to go to the bathroom or something. I thought you'd be different after we made love together. I know you said it was just sex, but it was more than just sex for me."

"That's right, it was more. I have emotional feelings for you. It was a lot better sex for me than those times I did it with Bea, but it wasn't as special as love would have made it be. It was still wonderful though, and I'm glad we did it. I'd like us to do more of it too."

"Are you saying you won't ever love me?"

"Not enough to want to marry you. We want different things. I don't want to just be what you want me to be to you. We can be great friends if you want though. We can play, just like you play with Emily. If you find someone else later, that's all right too. I won't get mad when you do, and you'll still be my friend, even if you want to quit playing."

"I don't like it when you talk this way about us. I hoped we could just start over again, and we'd both try to be better this time. I thought you'd change your mind after we did it." Already, Brenda was acting hurt and petulant, hoping to get me to give in at least a little. Mama liked to tear right through any resistance, squashing it before it had a chance to take root. Brenda was content to try to slowly chip away at it, eroding it little by little. Two vastly different approaches, but both were effective. Most of the time.

"I've already explained it to you, and I won't change my mind. You said you would accept my friendship, under those terms. If you've changed your mind, about wanting to just be my friend, you should tell me."

"No, I do want us to be friends. I just hoped we could be a lot more. All my plans have you in them, Kenny. I wish you'd just try to love me a little bit again."

"I do love you a little bit, but that's all. I want more than that, more than you can give me."

"I told you I'd give you anything I can."

"Yes, you did. I tried to tell you this was the problem, Brenda. I've seen all you can give, and it isn't enough for me. I want someone who cares more about me than she cares about what she wants. I want someone that I care about like that too."

"I can't ever be like that with you? Someone you care about like that?"

"See? You should be asking that question about you, not about me. You think if you give something, other people should be willing to give you everything, and it never works good that way. Other people aren't always supposed to give you more than you give them."

"What about Emily? I was ready to give her to you too, as long as you loved me the best."

"You don't own Emily, Brenda. You can't give her to me."

"I didn't mean give. I meant share. I was willing to share her. It was me doing things with you that made her want to do them with you too. I didn't try to stop you from doing things with her."

"I know you didn't. That just proves my point, doesn't it? Brenda was silent for awhile again. Brenda was intelligent. She said things sometimes without first putting them through any filters, or listening in her mind first, to hear how they might sound to others. She was still a very intelligent person though. She saw that her argument with me was flawed, and she wasn't getting any closer to her real objective. Unlike Mama and me, Brenda was able to back off and wait for a better opportunity.

"I still want us to be friends, Kenny. Nothing has changed about my wanting that. Are you still going to take me to lunch and practice tennis with me tomorrow? We can be good together, at tennis, and at everything else. You'll see."

"I'll have Hans come by to pick you up if you want. Will twelve be okay?" Brenda said she'd be ready at twelve. "Is Emily back yet?"

"She's sitting here now, but she isn't ready to speak to you again. She's still upset about things."

"Tell her I need to tell her something, please." I waited until she came on, asking me what I needed to tell her. "Emily, you and I aren't competitors, and you don't have to try to keep up with whatever Brenda does, in order to compete with her. I'd like if we could be friends too, friends who both have a thing for Brenda. You and I could do things if you really wanted to, or not. It would depend on what you want. If we don't fight over her, we'll both probably have more fun being with her. If she has another boyfriend, he might get jealous and make her choose. With me, you wouldn't have to be afraid of that."

"I knew you were going to tell me something like that. I'd already thought of that while you were talking to Brenda. You're probably right too. I'm not like you or Brenda though. All of this is tearing my insides up. I don't know how you two can manage being so casual about all of this. I also figured out that what you were telling me earlier was true, about Brenda not loving you either. She thinks she does, but you might be right. I was afraid that she did."

"Brenda only has room to love one person, and that's always going to be Brenda. I think she's comfortable with having lots of other people loving her though. Think about what I've said. If you agree, you're welcome to come with us, whenever we're together. I don't think Brenda will mind, and we might do a better job of trying to please her."

"What about what you said before, about me having to let you do it to me?"

"I lied to you instead. It was a lot quicker, and not nearly as messy."

"So, we aren't going to do that?" Emily seemed more relaxed after I told her we were even again.

"No, you're better off doing it with someone you care about. I care about Brenda, and so do you."

"I'd still like to watch you and her doing it."

"I'd still like to watch you two, too. Come to the club with us tomorrow. Maybe we can both get what we want?" She didn't say anything. I wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was? We all knew already that both of us were doing it with Brenda, and Emily had already done a lot of things with me too. These were things she had enjoyed too. I was pretty sure she hadn't been faking it, when I made her cum those times. Brenda wouldn't mind, I was sure of that, not as long as I didn't screw Emily. She might not even mind that.

"I need to talk to Brenda some more. If I decide to go, I'll be at Brenda's before you pick her up at twelve."

There was a lot to be said for giving in, especially if you did it the way I just had. I wasn't looking for some way to make any of this turn out bad. Mama was going to be very happy to see that Brenda and I were getting along well again. Brenda was going to be getting a lot of what she wanted, including sexual attention from me. I hoped this new development would mean that Emily and I could go back to being friends at least. I'd like her to be a "special friend", like Brenda was, but even a regular friend was a lot better than it had been.

Mom and Dad came home after ten o'clock. They said hello to me, and Mama asked how my visit with Emily and Brenda went. I had been watching a television program in the library when they came in to say hello, but I quickly turned it off so we could talk easier.

"It went real good, better than I had hoped."

"That's good. I knew you two could work this out. I'm glad that's over, because it was causing some strain between our two families. What did you do with Emily being here too?"

"Emily was still a little upset with me about some things I told her, so she decided to go home early. Brenda walked her home, and then came back later."

"Was that when it went better than you'd hoped?" Mama was smiling at me. I figured she must want me to tell her what happened between Brenda and me, but I wasn't quite sure. Not sure enough to come out and tell her we had sex.

"Yes, it went real good after she came back."

"Is Brenda satisfied now? No unresolved expectations?"

"I don't think so. I mean she's satisfied, and I don't think she expected more than what we did. She said I did it way better than Darryl. We still aren't going steady yet, but maybe we will be later."

"She didn't say she'd stop seeing that other boy?"

"We didn't talk anymore about it. We're getting along pretty good though, so I didn't want to make a fuss about that."

"Bertie, you're probably embarrassing the boy. Isn't it sufficient that they've patched up their quarrel? You should be satisfied with that and give it a rest." Dad seemed uncomfortable being in the same room when we were talking about me having sex with Brenda. He had fixed Mama a drink, making one for himself also. He didn't offer to make me one.

"I am satisfied. I'm happy things are going well. I hope I haven't misjudged Brenda. It won't work out though, not if she continues being free and loose with her sexual favors."

"What won't work out?" Dad asked the question, but I wanted to hear the answer too.

"This reconciliation. Wasn't that the whole point of all this? Kenny and Brenda make such a cute couple. As long as Brenda is on the pill, I think there is little harm in them exploring with each other. We wouldn't want an accidental pregnancy, but as for the rest, things are more relaxed and liberal than they used to be."

I almost said something about how I was using rubbers too, but I held back from it. There was no reason to worry Mama about my fear that Brenda was very capable of having multiple sexual partners, or about my not wanting to have to worry about getting any diseases from her.

The next morning, I was the last one out of the house, except for Gerta and Elizabeth. When I came down at nine, Mama and Jane had left for the construction site at the golf learning center, driving separate cars. Dad and Grace had gone to Bolling to work at the Company. Hans was off somewhere, running errands, and picking up things for Gerta. I had a quick breakfast in the kitchen with Gerta. Elizabeth was sitting at the table kneading dough for some bread she was going to bake. This was really the first time I was so close to Elizabeth for any length of time. I took the time to look at her carefully. Bea had told me that women didn't appreciate it when men tried to sneak looks at them. She said there was something exciting about a bold man making a frank and open appraisal of a woman. That's what I was trying to do.

"Please don't stare at me like that." That was the most I'd ever heard her say to me at once. Her voice was quiet, almost like she didn't want to intrude on the world at all.

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to figure out who you look like. There's something about you that reminds me of someone." Gerta had turned around to look at Elizabeth when she spoke to me too. Elizabeth was always so quiet, so I'm sure she was surprised too.

"I was thinking that too, Kenny. I can't think of who it is though. I already asked her if she has any brothers or sisters, but she says she doesn't. Her face looks very familiar to me too." Elizabeth seemed embarrassed to be the focus of so much attention, finally getting up and covering her bread dough with a damp cloth, before leaving out the back way. It was nine thirty, and Hans hadn't gotten back yet. I also needed to see him and ask him to get me more rubbers. I only had two left, and I was hoping to need quite a few more than that for Brenda and me. Maybe for Emily too. When Elizabeth didn't come back after five minutes, Gerta asked me to go find her and tell her she needed to get her bread stuff off the table because Gerta needed it for something she was making.

I went out the back looking for her, and found her, smoking another one of those rolled cigarettes. This time, I was almost certain it had to be marijuana. I had seen shows and movies on television, about how people smoked it. They had been taking in deep puffs, then holding it in for a long time, before letting the smoke back out. Elizabeth was doing it that way too. She didn't seem to notice me coming towards her either.

"Is that marijuana you're smoking?" She looked at me and just laughed. She was prettier when she smiled too. "Aren't you afraid you'll be arrested?" That made her laugh even more. I didn't see what was so funny, but I enjoyed watching her laugh. She looked like she was having trouble keeping me in focus, and she was blinking at me, trying to tilt her head back, and over to the side at the same time. It looked funny, and this made her laugh too. "Are you loaded?" She took another big puff on her cigarette and stared at me until she started coughing and laughing at the same time.

"You sure do ask a lot of dumb questions." She took another puff and held it in. The cigarette was almost burned all the way down, and it looked like her fingers would be burned, until I noticed she was holding it with her long fingernails. I'd never noticed how long the nails were on her right hand, but then I noticed it was only the nails on her thumb and index finger that were so long. All the rest were normal length. I wondered if she grew them like that, just to hold her marijuana cigarettes in, without burning her fingers.

"Do you like getting messed up?" I'd heard people saying that, messed up, on television too. I had never seen a real person messed up before. It seemed to make a big difference with Elizabeth. She wasn't as shy acting, and she sure talked more.

"I'm not messed up. It takes more than two joints to get me ripped." She laughed again, tilting her head to the other side, and looking at me with only one of her eyes. Then, she closed the open eye and opened the one that had been closed. "You know why I look familiar? Go look in the damn mirror. I noticed it too, when I first came to work here." As soon as she said it, I knew she was right. It was me that she looked like. It wasn't like we looked alike, but there were similarities, in our eyes, our cheekbones, and the shape of our mouths. I started getting a weird feeling as soon as I realized she was right.

"Are you my mother?" I blurted it out, without thinking it through. If she was twenty eight, she'd have been twelve when she had me, a fifth or sixth grader. I doubted many fifth graders had babies.

"No, I'm not your mother. Just because we look a little bit alike doesn't mean we're related to each other. People tell me I look a little bit like Liza Minnelli too. Do you think I'm related to Judy Garland?"

"I don't know. Can you sing?" This cracked her up. I had been trying to be funny, but it wasn't that funny. Again, I figured it had to be the marijuana making her act like this.

"I'm hungry. Why did you come out here?"

"Gerta sent me to find you so you could get your dough off of her table. She needs it for something else."

"She does? She needs the whole damn table?" Then, she started laughing again. I was starting to wonder if smoking that marijuana would make me think everything was funny. I didn't laugh very much. It wasn't that I didn't like to laugh, I just never thought too many things were that funny. "I've gotta pee. Tell Gerta I'll be back in a minute to take care of the dough, cause I've got to go." This cracked her up even worse than all of the other stuff that had made her laugh. I turned around and went back to tell Gerta.

"She needs to use the restroom, but she'll come move her stuff when she gets through." Gerta just nodded. Already she had six or seven different ingredients in bowls on the table. Gerta liked to get everything together before making her meals. She said it made it easier to organize things so that everything turned out ready at the same time so she could serve it fresh off the stove, or out of the oven. "Look at Elizabeth when she comes in. Tell me if you think she looks like me." Gerta looked over at me, starting to say something, but she stopped when she noticed the serious expression on my face. "Did you know Elizabeth smokes marijuana?"

"I knew she likes to smoke some, Kenny. Her poor husband dying that way. It has been so hard on her, and she is so unhappy. She doesn't let it interfere with her work though. Please don't mention it to anyone else, okay?"

"Sure. I didn't tell you to get her into any trouble. Her husband has been dead for a long time. Why doesn't she get over it?" Elizabeth was right behind me when I said that. I didn't hear her opening the kitchen door that led to the dining room. She must have walked around to the front of the house and come in through the front door, so she could use the bathroom off the entryway.

"You think I want to not get over it? Why don't you let something like that happen to you, and we'll see how long it takes you to get over it."

"I'm sorry. I was just wondering. I didn't mean for you to hear me."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better then? You ask insulting questions, but it doesn't matter, because you didn't know I'd hear you?" Elizabeth had started crying. One minute, she's outside laughing, and the next minute, she's in the kitchen, crying, and making me feel guilty. I wondered if that part was caused by the marijuana too?

"Liz, that's enough! Kenny, please go out front, and wait for Hans gets home. Help him carry in the things he's bringing. His back is kaput this morning." I left then, grateful to Gerta for helping me get out of a bad situation. I hadn't meant anything bad by my question. I sure hadn't meant for her to start crying.

As soon as Hans got home, I followed him around to the back and I helped bring in the bags and boxes of food and other supplies he had gone out to get. He wanted to help me bring everything in at first, but after I told him that Gerta had said for me to do it, he relaxed and walked gingerly inside. We both knew better than to argue with Gerta, and his back was really troubling him. When I came into the kitchen again. Gerta was alone. I asked about Elizabeth, but Gerta told me to hush, and to go get the rest of her stuff before Hans took it in his mind to lift more things and really throw his back out.

"Kenny, you were right. She looks like you a lot. Maybe she's a relative." I went out and made three more trips before everything was inside with Gerta. I told Hans he needed to pick up Brenda at her house, before twelve, and bring her to the club. I also told him that Emily might be with her. I asked him if his back was okay to be driving, but he said driving didn't hurt it, telling me I shouldn't be worried about it.

"I'm going to be needing more of those rubbers, Hans. I've only got two of them left."

"I'll get some today. Do you think I should get a big box this time?" Hans was grinning when he asked me that. I could always count on Hans to like anything having to do with me and girls.

"I think you better. It might be two girls this time." It sounded like I was bragging, even to me, but it was me trying to make Hans happier with his bad back. He and Gerta always knew about anything that happened in the house anyway. It didn't matter if he found something out a little before Gerta this one time. It gave him something to take his mind off of his own troubles too.

"I wish you good luck then. Two girls. What about those two girls in your old room? You think they need some rubbers too?"

"I don't know Hans. You know Grace, right, the tall one? She's been looking at your butt a whole lot when she didn't think anyone else was noticing. I think she might be interested in you. She kind of reminds me of Bea, and I already told you what Bea told me about wanting you. Do you really think Gerta would poison someone if they did it with you?"

"Gerta wouldn't harm no one. Still, it would be better if you didn't say anything about this. I know you are just kidding, Kenny, but Gerta, she might think you were serious." I could tell my kidding around had made Hans feel pretty good. I was going to ask Grace to flirt with him just a little, but I'd tell Gerta I was doing it just to tease Hans for him teasing me earlier.

I got dropped off in time for my golf lesson. We spent the whole of my lesson time, practicing the chip shot from off the putting green. I was learning to judge chipping distances of various clubs with different lofts. I was improving, but this was something I had a lot of room left to improve at. I was still practicing chips after Dave left, when I noticed Brenda and Emily walking towards me. Both were carrying tennis bags, and they were wearing the same tops, with shorts that were similar, but not exactly the same like their tops were.

"Hello ladies. Ready for some lunch? We can go practice some before we eat if you want to?"

"We're starved. Emily came over early, and helped me clean up my room. It looks better than it ever has too."

"You'll have to do something nice for Emily too then." Both girls laughed, but only Emily started blushing.

"I already did. We took a shower together, and I really scrubbed her back for her. I bet you wish you could have seen us in the shower?" Brenda gave Emily a little shove up the stairs, towards the restaurant. She was in a good mood today. I wondered how much was me, and how much was knowing that her mother was going to be happy her room was so clean. Of course, it might have been the shower too. The important thing was she was happy. In my experience, a happy Brenda was much easier to deal with.

"I told Mama what we did yesterday, Brenda. I figured I'd get it over with before one of the maids said anything to Gerta about the stains we made on the bedspread. I tried wiping it off, but it didn't come out."

"Kenny. You just told her? Did you tell her how many times? Emily thinks that was a lot. I told her we did it four times, because you said that first one counted as two times. She said Paolo only did it to her twice, but she says she had more orgasms than me. Claudia says having one orgasm is better than average. Darryl never gave her any. Me either. I meant the time with Darryl, not playing with Claudia." Brenda laughed, pleased with her cleverness. I looked at Emily, and I could tell right away, from the expression on her face, that Claudia was another source of tension with her. One more thing she and I had in common. When I looked at her, she looked up at me, making a face at me and pretending to put her finger down her throat to puke. For Emily, that was being friendly to me. I wondered if she had seen the same reaction on my face I'd seen on hers, as soon as Claudia's name was mentioned. I'd have to get back to how I used to be, not showing my feelings when other people were around. I couldn't resist kidding back with Emily though.

"That Paolo, I'm surprised he only did it twice. I thought you said he was supposed to be such a great lover?"

"He is, Kenny. Brenda said you spent about an hour, total, for all four times. An hour doing it, not how long from when you started until you finished the last time. The first time, Paolo took only one hour. The last time, after we rested, he took almost three hours before he finished."

"Wow, three hours. That's a long time to be doing that. He must be in pretty good condition to do it for that long. Of course, since Brenda's so good looking, an hour with her was all it took me to cum four times. With you, I might last five or six hours, and not be finished once. Paolo must have a better imagination than I do."

"Are you saying he lasted so long because I'm homely?"

"I'm sure that wasn't the only reason, Emily. I heard a lot of those Italians are socialists. Maybe it was all part of a work slow down? Was he a gigolo?" Brenda was amused, but I wasn't going over well at all with Emily. "I'm just kidding, Emily. I'm just jealous that he was a better lover than me. Maybe you learn how to do it longer, with practice?"

Emily didn't look like she was even close to forgiving me. She looked at me, obviously wanting to say something, but holding herself back. I signaled for our waiter and ordered the cheeseburger, with a Coke. Brenda ordered the fried shrimp and Emily decided on an Ortega melt with roast beef and Ortega chiles and cheese. When it came, it didn't look that good, but it smelled really good. She let Brenda have two bites for one piece of shrimp, but turned up her nose when I offered to trade her a bite for part of my burger. I didn't mind too much. I would have ordered another one for me, but I didn't want to get too full, not when we were about to be out running around on the tennis court.

After lunch, we went to the tennis courts, and I found out right away that Emily was at least as good a tennis player as Brenda was. As good, except for between the ears. She definitely didn't have Brenda's competitive fire, and her stamina became suspect, after some of the longer rallies. For pure ball striking though, and efficient foot movement, Emily was the better player of the two. I watched as Brenda beat her 6-3, 6-2.

I was next up for her, but Brenda didn't have it quite as easy with me. I'd grown a few inches taller, and I had a better idea of what it was I wanted to be doing while out on a tennis court. I think we both were surprised at how well I was serving too. I lost 7-5, 6-4, but I had several chances to break her in the first set, including two set points when I was ahead of her 5-4 and had her down 15-40. At 30-40, I hit what I was sure was the winning shot. To me, it looked like it caught a big piece of the back line, but Brenda called it out. In the second set, she broke me at four all and then held serve after several deuces. Emily had tired her out a little, but after she and I finished up, it was Brenda that suggested we all head over to the pool.

In the pool, we mostly just relaxed in the water. We talked to each other about the best ways to make our situation work. Emily seemed in favor of her and me doing separate things with Brenda, for the most part. She said it was less complicated when we did things that way. I told her I was okay with doing it that way too, but that I had invited her to be there with Brenda and me to try to find out what each of us was comfortable with doing together. Brenda said she felt comfortable as long as no one was fighting over things. She told me that Emily really wanted to watch us doing it, and she had promised her she could.

"I want to watch you and Emily doing things. Are you going to promise me as well?" Brenda just smiled and looked at Emily.

"It isn't any of your business what we do together, Kenny. You already told Brenda and me you don't mind if I watch you. I do mind if you watch us." It was almost funny the way she said that.

"All right. I did say that. You can watch. Are you going to be touching yourself while you watch? I never said you could do that."

"Brenda said I could do whatever I wanted to. What do you care if I do, or if I don't?"

"I don't care if we're in your house, but if we're in mine, I don't want you making a mess."

"What mess? I'm not going to make any messes. If anyone makes a mess, it's you, not either of us."

"Brenda made a big mess with me at my house. She squirted her stuff, all over my bedspread." Brenda blushed and looked down when I said that.

"What are you talking about? What stuff? Girls don't squirt stuff, boys do. It's semen anyway, not stuff."

"Maybe you don't squirt any stuff, or semen, but Brenda sure did. The last time we were doing it. Ask her if you don't believe me." Emily looked over at Brenda. A questioning look was on her face, and she obviously had no idea of what I was talking about. Brenda looked up and nodded, confirming what I had said.

"I did. it just started coming out of me. I thought it was pee, but it wasn't. It wouldn't stop when it happened until we had a big puddle on the bedspread. I never had that happen. I didn't say anything about it to you because I never heard of anything like that before. It was my strongest tingle too, so I wasn't trying too hard to do anything other than keep it feeling like it was."

"Can you do it with me? You never did that before?"

"Never. It just happened. I was so embarrassed, but I figured it felt so good, it couldn't be too bad. Kenny has stuff come out too, so maybe that's just how it's supposed to be."

"You told me it wasn't better than what we do. Were you lying to me?" Emily was accusing her of something worse than lying. From her tone of voice, she felt betrayed by more than a lie.

"I said it was different though. That was one of the differences. It might just be something that happens when a guy makes a girl orgasm really well. It didn't happen the other times I had an orgasm, just that last time. I was getting tired when it did that. Maybe it was because I was tired. You might not do it, because you don't like anything in you. I do. It feels better when I have something in there. Didn't Paolo ever make you orgasm really strong?" Emily started crying and waded away from us, hurrying to get out of the pool. Brenda started after her, but I held onto her arm and held her back. "I need to go help her, Kenny, she's upset over nothing."

"Let her have a few minutes alone, Brenda. She's going to have to learn not to be so possessive anyway. She's worried that you like what we do better than you like what you do with her."

"She's right, I do. But, she knows we're just playing. We're both girls."

"No, you're just playing. For Emily, it's more than that."

"How could it be? She isn't a lesbian. What about Paolo? What about what you did to her at your house and in the limo? She knows it's only playing."

"I don't think there is any Paolo. I think she just made him up. I bet her only real experience is with you and me. That's why she's so jealous, because she just wants you, but you want other people too."

"I think you're wrong, Kenny. The way she described what she did was too detailed to just be made up stuff. She even talked about how bad it hurt her the first time, and the bleeding. If she was just making it up, how would she know about that?"

"Go sit with her now, see if she wants to talk about what's bothering her. I think she just wants you to reassure her. You have to tell her you still like playing with her." Brenda went over to where Emily was sitting. For the first five minutes, it looked like Brenda was talking to Emily's back, because Emily had turned away from her, as soon as Brenda had gone over there to speak with her. Slowly, Emily started responding to whatever Brenda was telling her. It was another few minutes before I noticed Emily talking back to her, turning her face towards Brenda's so she could see whatever impact her words were having. By the time I climbed out of the pool, some twenty minutes later, it was Emily trying to comfort Brenda about something. There was no question that Brenda was very good at convincing people that every problem could be fixed if only people would treat her better.

I left the pool area and called home to have Gerta send Hans to pick us up. When I went back to the pool area, Brenda and Emily were laughing about something. All of the earlier upset was seemingly forgotten. I told them Hans was on his way, and that we needed to get ready before he got there. They stood up, in their swim suits, and announced they were both ready. I threw my tennis shorts over my suit and told them I was ready also.

"Emily, will you be coming over for dinner too? You'd be welcome."

"I don't think so, Kenny. Will your parents be there?"

"I'm pretty sure they will be, plus Grace and Jane too. There's plenty of room at the table, and Gerta always makes enough food to feed an army. After we eat, we can watch some television in my room."

"I'd need to go home and shower and get dressed first. Why don't you ask your mother, just to make sure it's all right with her?"

"I don't have to. She says it's my home too, and my guests are always welcome. She told me to let Gerta know so she could make sure to have enough food for everyone to eat. I already told her I'd be bringing one or two guests home for dinner. I'll drop Brenda off first, then you, and we'll pick you back up at six forty five. Brenda, I'll get you at six forty, all right?"

Everyone now agreed, I dropped each girl off on the way back home. After Brenda got out, Emily asked me if it was me who sent Brenda over to comfort her.

"She tried to go sooner. I made her wait while I told her my suspicions about you and Paolo. She believed what you told her about the things you said you did with him."

"She wants me to let you put your dick in me, but I don't think I want to."

"Are you afraid it will hurt you too much?"

"No. I'm not afraid of that. I've thought about doing it a lot. I'm afraid I'll hate it, and what that would mean if I did hate it."

"What would it mean? Not that I think you'd hate it, but I wonder what you think that would make different?"

"It would mean I'm really a lesbian, and I'd never have a normal life."

"Why would it mean that? When I did cunnilingus, you liked that. If you like that with a boy, why wouldn't you like regular sex too?"

"I don't like fingers touching me inside, and it always hurts when I touch inside myself too."

"You need to get past the barrier. My friend Bea told me it always hurt until it gets opened all the way. She said it felt like someone was ripping your skin until it got completely torn open. She also told me it was better to just do it all at one time, instead of a little bit now, and a little more later. She's a professional, so she should know."

"You aren't going to talk me into anything, Kenny. I don't care how good Brenda thinks you are. You aren't putting anything inside me."

I looked right at her and smiled. Her words were telling me no, but she kept moving closer to me, the whole time we were talking. By the time we got to her driveway, we were kissing, and her swimsuit bottom was pulled to the side, and my finger was rubbing up and down on her pussy. She was wet, but I didn't make any attempt to put my finger inside her. I broke our kiss and got down on the floorboard, on my knees, helping myself to a quick taste of her. We both knew it was just playing, that we didn't have the time, or any real intention of going any further right then. When I pulled my face out from between her legs, both of us were laughing, some of the tension of earlier in the day erased for us.

"Next time, I'm going to make you so excited, you'll be begging me to put it inside you."

"Next time, you better drop me off first. What got into you to do something like that, after I told you I wasn't interested?"

"Next time, Brenda will be asking you what got into you, and you'll be able to tell her I did." She looked at me and shivered. It wasn't that cold in the limo. There was definitely something about Emily I couldn't figure out. She always surprised me. When I thought she was going to be easy, she wasn't. When I thought she was not going to let me do anything, something like what had just happened took place. The funniest part of all of it was I liked her being just like she was. She kept me off balance, and that kept me interested. I really wanted to have sex with her, but I knew I could wait for as long as it took. If it never happened, that was all right too.

After she got out of the limo, Hans drove me home. In the shower, I thought about how the day had gone so far. I decided to ask Mama about getting me some tennis lessons. I didn't think I'd have to improve too much before I could beat Brenda. A few lessons working on developing my serve, along with some work on my strokes, particularly my backhand, and I really thought she couldn't beat me. It had become important to me to be able to beat her at her own game. Maybe it was symbolic? I thought about making Emily enjoy playing with me more than she liked playing with Brenda. It would be good for Emily, and it might be good for Brenda too. I needed her to start coveting me, and for a lot more than just my money.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 9

When Hans pulled the limo up in front of the circular driveway, Emily and Brenda stepped out of the back of it, wearing identical skirts and blouses. Even their shoes were matched. It was only ten minutes before dinner time when they finally arrived at my house. It has always been hard for me to explain the sense of awe that would strike me each time I saw Brenda again. Her looks were absolutely stunning, but for me it was a quality she had that was more than looks. I've only seen the same effect on people when they were seeing a large tiger or a panther for the first time. The animals look so sleek, powerful, and healthy, that you are almost forced to stand there, looking at them in amazement. Brenda was like that for me. She seemed so healthy and vital. Just watching her do something as ordinary as walking, was a visual treat I couldn't seem to get enough of.

Seeing me coming out the front door towards them, both girls stopped walking. They posed in their identical costumes, waiting for me to come to them.

"Kenny, Emily told me what happened in the limo, right after you dropped me off. She says you practically attacked her. What do you have to say for yourself?" Brenda was trying to appear upset with me, but her smile wouldn't permit her to carry it off.

"That isn't true. It's more like she kept moving closer to me. I only kissed her finally, to keep her from crawling up all over me. Ask her who it was that put my hand on her pussy, because it sure wasn't me who did that. I only decided to lick her because her pussy felt so hot to the touch. I was afraid it might catch on fire if I didn't wet it down. I needn't have worried about it though, because she had already wet it down herself, pretty good." Emily and Brenda were giggling, and Emily tried to slap Brenda's arm away, when Brenda reached out to tickle her.

"I thought it must have been something like that." Brenda reached over and pulled me closer to her for a kiss. After we finished the kiss, Brenda told me that Emily had attacked her in the limo too, so she believed me. "I think she just gets hot riding in Limos."

"Don't say that too loud, or Hans might start coming by her house, to see if she wants to go for a ride with him." I knew Hans could hear me when I said it. Brenda laughed, but Emily just looked over at Hans. I saw Hans turn his face away, and he looked like his face was turning red when he did it. "Be careful, Hans, I think she's interested in you too." The three of us went in the house while Hans pulled the limo back towards the garage.

Dinner was lively. All four of the girls were talking about clothes and shopping. Dad had already told Mama all about his day, when they were in the library before dinner. He looked a little frustrated sitting at the head of the table, unable to take part in the dinner conversation. Brenda was seated at my right, and Emily was to her right. Jane and Grace were sitting opposite them, with Grace closest to my Dad. Jane was having difficulty finding a place to look. She was obviously trying not to look at Brenda, but Grace wasn't making it any easier for her, engaging Brenda and Emily in conversation, and asking Jane to describe this or that to Brenda or Emily. Grace was teasing Jane.

We had been seated for about ten minutes when Mama excused herself from the table, saying she had gotten too much sun out at the construction site, and needed to lay down in the dark, to try to get rid of her headache. Dad and I had both gotten to our feet when Mama stood up. He and I both looked at each other, fearing what her announcement portended. After Mama was gone, the table talk quieted down. I wasn't certain how much Jane and Grace had been told about Mama's condition, but I knew Brenda's parents were somewhat aware of Mama's depressions. If Emily knew anything, it was because Brenda had told her about it. After dinner, Brenda, Emily and I went up to my bedroom. In the top drawer of my large clothes dresser, Hans or Gerta had placed a box containing thirty six rubbers, right in the front. I had seen them after my shower, and wondered how long all those rubbers were going to last me.

Once we were in my room, I locked my door. It wasn't a dead bolt like I'd had in my old room, but I didn't really think anyone was going to try to gain entry without knocking first anyway. I used the restroom, and when I came back out, Brenda was on the bed, with Emily pinned beneath her. It looked like Brenda was tickling her, both of them were laughing, with Emily trying to push Brenda off of her.

"Come help me, Kenny! Hold her arms." I walked over to the bed, stopping near the headboard, noticing for the first time that Emily's blouse had been unbuttoned. She was wearing a thin, white lace bra underneath, and I could make out a dark shadow pressing forth against the stretched fabric, where her nipples and Areolas were visible.

"What are you doing? Why is her shirt unbuttoned?" I was watching closely, as Emily, seeing me staring at her bra, had redoubled her resistance and was thrashing all around. My question seemed to spur her on to making even more of an effort to throw Brenda off of her.

"Help me, Kenny, and I'll let you watch us. Emily's just playing hard to get. I told her I'd get back at her for attacking me in the limo."

"Watch you do what? Are you going to lick her pussy?" As soon as I said that, both girls ceased their struggles, and stared up at me. From the way they looked at me, I knew I'd been too blunt. "Sorry. I was just wondering what you were planning on doing."

"I don't do that to her, Kenny. Is that what you thought?" Brenda had released Emily, and was getting up off the bed. Emily looked stricken by Brenda's words.

"What do you mean? You told me that you two played. I thought that was what you meant, sex play." I didn't understand Brenda's reaction. I watched her, and I could easily see that she was mad, really mad. I wasn't sure why what I'd said had caused it, and I was going to be quiet until she cleared things up for me. In the meantime, Emily had started crying, turning over on her side, and facing away from us.

"Emily does it to me. She likes doing it. I let her. I thought you understood that." Brenda was moving all around me as she spoke, waving her arms for emphasis and gesturing at Emily when she spoke her name, as if to identify to me who she was talking about.

"You have her do you, but you don't do her too?" I already knew that Brenda had different ideas about what was right and fair in the way she divided up her responsibilities and those of the people who interacted with her. I couldn't believe she thought what she described was equitable though. Even Brenda had to realize that was simply taking advantage of and using Emily. Why did Emily allow that?

"I'm not the one who likes doing lesbian things, she is. It's just playing, and it makes her happy, and it feels all right for me. I didn't ask her to do it, she asked me if she could. I wouldn't have done that with her, not if she wanted me to do it back to her." Brenda must have correctly interpreted my expression. She had moved quickly, from anger, to making defensive explanations, trying to justify to me what had taken place between Emily and her.

"You do something to her too though, right?" Brenda nodded that she did.

"I touch her, and we kiss sometimes. I've rubbed her on her kitty before. I don't lick her though, because I've never wanted to. It would be different if I was like her, and wanted to do it." I didn't know what to say. Emily had already been humiliated by what Brenda had said to me. If I spoke about it anymore, it would almost surely make her more uncomfortable. I had to say something though. Emily was my invited guest too.

"Brenda, do you remember that time in the trees, when I first put my finger in your pussy? I made sure you saw me putting that finger in my mouth. I said you tasted good, and that I wanted to taste you some more. You do taste good, and I like licking you whenever you let me. Emily tastes just as good as you do, and I love licking her pussy too. You know how much you like being licked, and you've seen how Emily responds when I'm licking her. I don't understand why you wouldn't want to give her the same pleasure she gives you?"

"She likes it. She wouldn't do it to me if she didn't. If you want me to, I'll stop letting her do it. I don't want you getting mad at me, but I don't want to do that to her."

"Emily, what do you think?" She had stopped crying, and was obviously following our conversation, even though she was still turned away from us. I saw her back tense up when I said her name.

"I want to go home. I knew it was a mistake for me to come here tonight. We were having a good time, Kenny, before you had to say something to spoil everything. I told you it wasn't any of your business what Brenda and I do. Why are you so curious?"

"I'm sorry. I guess you're right, and it isn't any of my business. It just didn't seem right to me. I think Brenda's the one missing out though. I'd be licking your pussy, every single chance you gave me, if I was her."

"Are you going to take me home, or do I have to walk?" Emily had gotten up off the bed, heading for my door. I started after her, catching up just as she tried opening the door. I reached over and unlocked the door with a twist of my wrist, then opened it up for her. I followed her down the stairs, and out the front door. I stayed right behind her, as she walked past the fountain, and started down the driveway. When I pulled even, and reached for her hand, she pulled it away from me. She didn't slow her stride though.

"Emily, I hate to tell you this, but you're playing right into Brenda's hands by running away like this. She was looking for something like this to separate us. She wants both of us competing for her. If we are together like we were, it's easier to see what she's doing." Emily slowed down when I stopped speaking. She didn't stop, but she slowed down to a normal walking pace. I saw her look back, over her shoulder, to see if Brenda was coming after us. "She'll stay in my bedroom, pretending it's hers. Right now she's probably wondering what to do with all my things after she gets them out of her closet." That got me a little smile, and a slight nod of agreement. "If you love her, you should try to help me change her, so she can love you back. She's been taught that she needs to be like she is, if she wants to realize all her ambitions. Every time these stunts of hers work, it just reinforces that way of acting for her. She isn't going to quit doing something if it keeps on working for her."

"That might work for you, but it wouldn't work for me. She loves you. She's right, it's me that wants to do all those things with her. She just lets me do them because she likes me, as a friend."

"Think about what you're saying, Emily. Does that really sound like Brenda? When was the last time you saw her doing anything unless there was something in it for her? Her mother is the same way, and she's the one teaching Brenda. If Brenda treats you good, it's because she wants something from you. If she didn't, she wouldn't be hanging around you. When you give her what she wants, and don't demand anything in return, she keeps taking advantage. She'll do that, until you stand up to her, and then she'll be the one to back down."

"She isn't like that with me. You heard her, she said she'd stop doing things with me. She's told me that before, anytime I wasn't willing to do what she wants me to do."

"Brenda loves all kinds of sex playing. She loves having her pussy licked. She loves it the same way you do. The big difference is, she's got you convinced she only does it as a favor to you. Brenda always needs to be the one in control, even when it comes to getting pleasure. It probably makes it better for her, knowing that she can get you to lick her, and she doesn't have to return the favor."

"Why are you always saying such mean things about her? She treats you a lot nicer than you treat her. She does almost anything you tell her to."

"We've been fighting for almost a year. I have lots of things she really wants. She found out she can't get any of them, not by treating me like she treats you, so she's had to change her tactics. I'm trying to show Brenda ways to have what she wants, but without having to always be taking advantage of people to do it. She's pretty ruthless, and she's stubborn too. She keeps coming back to me, because, to her, I'm the answer to her realizing all of her dreams, and her mother's dreams for her. For some reason, my mother is in on it with them. She keeps trying to throw Brenda and me back together."

"Wouldn't it be easier for you if I wasn't in the middle of everything right now?"

"I thought that too, until I realized you and I were on the same side, both trying to find a way to get along with Brenda. Before, I wanted to use you, to make Brenda worried that I might like you better than I liked her. I hoped to be able to force her to act nicer to me, because she'd be afraid I'd like you better than her, if she didn't. Instead, she found a way to get you more excited about her than you were about me."

"She didn't have to find a way, I already was, and I'm pretty sure she knew that a long time before she even met you. I've had a crush on her for a long time."

"Let's admit you're right. The important thing is, when Brenda had a reason to want you out of competition with her, she found a way to make it happen. She gave you something you really wanted, so you'd help her get what she wanted, which was you out of the way."

"If that's true, why is she pushing me back into the picture with you now?"

"She needed you to help her, to lie for her, and then, as bait, to make sure I had enough reason to want to be around her again. It doesn't matter why, anyway. What matters is whether you're happy with letting Brenda feed you these little crumbs? If you are, then go home now, and she'll be back being friends with you again, the next time I do something to push her away from me. I'm telling you though, if you want an honest relationship with Brenda, with both of you being equals, you should come back to my bedroom with me. The more you stand up to her, the more you'll find out how important you are to her. You have to teach her to be as nice to you as you are to her. I'll help you, because the nicer she is to you, the easier it will be for her to start being nicer to everyone else."

"You just want to watch us doing things, and you also want to put your dick in me." Emily was a naturally suspicious person.

"I do. I'm pretty sure you're getting closer to being curious enough to want to know for yourself how my dick would feel in your pussy. I wouldn't force you to do that though. I probably am going to make Brenda lick your pussy though, if you do decide to come back with me. I'd be very surprised if, after she tastes your pussy, it turned out she doesn't really like it. Brenda likes almost everything about sex. When she gets hot, she doesn't think, she just feels."

Emily had stopped walking. We were out on the road, more than halfway to her house already.

"She already said she'd never lick me. I've asked her, and she always says no. How would you make her lick me?"

"I'm not sure of how I'm going to do it, but I will. Part of it will be her thinking it's all right if I'm the one telling her to do it. If it wasn't her idea, then it's all right. Part of it will be picking the right time to get her to do it. You just need to be right there, available to be licked, when the time comes."

"I shouldn't even be considering this. I should go home and forget both of you. I feel like I'm making a deal with the devil. If I go back with you now, it means I'm helping you to hurt Brenda."

"It means you're admitting that Brenda needs some help in changing her ways, in learning how to be a better person. Is she better off now, being selfish, and trying to have everything her way? Will she be happier going through her whole life, taking advantage, whenever she can, of any people who happen to have the misfortune to love her?"

"What are we going to say to Brenda when we get back? She's going to wonder why I changed my mind."

"We won't say anything. You get up on the bed and pull up your skirt. I'll take off your panties and start licking you. Brenda will understand why you came back. After that, we'll play it by ear, depending on how she reacts. No matter what she says or does, you stay on my bed, with your legs open."

Ten minutes later, we walked through the front door of my house and walked up the stairs. I went into my room first, and Brenda was on the bed, smiling at me. Her face was a little flushed, and her hand came out from under her skirt, as soon as she noticed Emily walking in behind me. Her smile had slipped when she recognized Emily, but she had it back in place a few seconds after.

"Where did you guys go? I thought you were going home, Emily?"

"I managed to talk her into staying." I walked over to the other side of the bed with Emily. When she stopped, she lifted up her skirt and sat down on my bed. She hesitated only an instant, before swinging her legs up, and reclining her head down, on my pillow. I reached over and pulled at the elastic of her panties, as she lifted up her hips, to allow me to slide the panties down her hips and legs. This whole time, Brenda was staring at both of us, waiting for one of us to tell her what we planned to do.

As soon as Emily relaxed and opened her legs, I started licking her. She was very wet, and the odor of her arousal was overpoweringly strong. Her taste was stronger too, a little more tart, with an acidic aftertaste. In a minute, my tongue had neutralized things to a more balanced flavor. For some reason, I decided to probe harder with my tongue, pressuring her vaginal opening, and stressing open her inner labia so that my passage up to her clitty was made wetter, and causing greater contact from my widened tongue against the stretched butterfly.

At first, I could feel all of the tenseness in her body. She was keeping her legs spread by an effort of will. I could tell the second that she quit caring about Brenda being there watching us, or about anything other than what my tongue was doing to her pussy. She gave herself over totally to the pleasure I was giving her. I risked a little peek over at Brenda, trying to find out how she was reacting to what Emily and I were doing. Her skirt was lifted up also, and her fingers were busy under the elastic leg band of her green nylon panties. I went back to concentrating on what I was doing, now satisfied that Brenda wasn't going to get up and bolt from the room.

When I looked up again, it was because of all the movement on the bed right above me. Brenda and Emily were in a kiss, and Emily was kneading Brenda's left breast with her right hand. Brenda was leaning up on her knees and left elbow for support, but had her own right hand still pinching, rubbing and pulling on her own squishy sounding pussy.

I pulled my face further away, and stood up, circling around the foot board of my bed, placing my knee on the mattress behind the opening of Brenda's legs. I had lowered my trousers and briefs before I got up on the bed, opening the edge of my foil packet with my teeth. I rolled the rubber on and started rubbing my dick up and down Brenda's pussy. I guess my dick was interfering with the rhythm she had established on her own pussy. She tried to move me away from there, at first, then realized it was my dick she was pushing out of her way. She spread her knees then, backing up just a little, making it easier for me to push up inside her. As soon as I had worked it in, and was fully seated, I took six or seven strokes before moving as far into her as I could, and then, stopping. After a few seconds, Brenda started moving on her own, setting the pace most comfortable for her. I started touching her back, lightly caressing it, as I slowly, and softly, trailed my fingers over every part of it I could reach. This was something, Bea had liked when I did it to her from behind, like I was doing it to Brenda.

After about ten minutes, I felt myself right on the verge of needing to create faster friction, for the cum that was ready to erupt. Instead of doing that, I dismounted and went back to Emily, and started licking her pussy again. Emily was immediately appreciative, bucking and moaning under my tongue. Brenda was making frustrated sounds, asking me to come back and finish doing her.

"I'm a little busy right now, Brenda. I'll turn on my side, and you can put it back in that way." I did turn on my side, but I turned away from Brenda, so that she would need to come over to the other side if she wanted me to continue doing her.

"Kenny, not that way." There was a little frustration in Brenda's voice. When it came to sex, Brenda wanted everything, and she wanted it right now. I turned around, facing the correct way, as far as Brenda was concerned. I felt her backing into me, trying to get things lined up as well as they had been before. In the meantime, I was back concentrating on Emily, laving my tongue back and forth all over her clit as she bucked through another orgasm, her second, this one stronger and louder than the first.

I'll give Brenda credit, she waited until Emily was finished yelling from her orgasm, before she reminded me, in a very tense voice, that she hadn't experienced her first cum yet. She told me to get back up on my knees, and to do it to her the same way I had been before, from the rear. I pulled out of her, moving myself behind her, getting both of us correctly positioned once more. This time, I put it back in, and then started a rapid fire in and out motion, literally pounding myself into her, until I made myself cum with an exploding surge. As soon as I started cumming, Brenda groaned once more, this time, in obvious frustration. I pulled my dick out of her, getting up from my bed, then walking over to my bathroom. The first thing I did was dispose of the spent rubber, and the second, was to shower and rinse all the sweat off my body. I was only gone ten minutes, but when I came back. Emily was between Brenda's legs, licking her like there was no tomorrow. I had to wonder if Emily had listened to anything I had told her.

It wasn't long before Brenda was having an orgasm, a few minutes later, she had another. After the second one, she disengaged herself from Emily's tongue and sat up in the bed.

"Did you enjoy watching us, Kenny? I wish you hadn't quit doing it when I was right in the middle. I was just getting close when you squirted in me. Are we going to do it again now?"

"No. Once was enough for me." Brenda made a face at me, but she didn't argue with what I said. If Emily had just refused to lick her, I might have accomplished what I'd set out to do, which was to get Brenda to lick Emily's pussy. "Are you all right, Emily? Are you ready to let me stick it in you yet?"

"I'm fine, and no, I'm not ready for that." I got back down on the bed and began kissing Emily on the top part of her thighs, while I played with both her breasts. Emily allowed it, but wasn't doing anything to show enthusiasm for what I was doing. I figured Brenda would react in some way to my doing that. She didn't though. After about ten minutes, I quit doing it. Emily hadn't been that receptive to it anyway.

"Do you guys want to take a shower before I get Hans to take you home?" Both girls got up off the bed, hurrying into my bathroom together. They closed and locked the door. I got up, getting myself dressed again, so all I'd have to do was comb my hair after they came out of the bathroom. It was a little after ten before we were ready to drive the girls back home. I asked Emily if she wanted to ride over to Brenda's house with us, or have us drop her off at her house along the way. She said she'd drive over to Brenda's. When we got there, Brenda said good night to Emily, and asked me to walk her to her front door.

"Emily told me what you said to her, Kenny, that you were going to tell me to lick her, and I would. It's a good thing you didn't try it, because I won't do it. What are we going to do tomorrow?"

"I'm going to take a golf lesson at ten thirty, and then I'm going to have lunch out at the club. At two thirty, I'm teeing off with Jane and Grace for eighteen holes."

"Do you want me to come out to have lunch with you?"

"Sure, that would be nice. You have to get out and back by yourself though, because Hans will be driving for Mama tomorrow when she goes to a bank in Bolling to sign some papers. She isn't going in with my Dad, because she wants to come back to Ridgeline for some meeting she has with the people that are building the lodge." In the back of my mind, I doubted whether Mama would keep either appointment the next day. Her leaving from the dinner table like she had, was almost an announcement that her depression had returned.

When I got back in the Limo, Emily looked at me contritely. She probably had already figured out that Brenda had told me about her confession of my intentions.

"Are you glad you came back to the house with me tonight?" I wanted to start out neutral with her, to see if she even realized what her actions had accomplished for Brenda. Now that Brenda had announced that she would never lick Emily's pussy, it was going to be hard to force her to change her mind. She was down on the record for refusing to do it now.

"I changed my mind about making Brenda do that, Kenny. She shouldn't have to, and we shouldn't try to force her to do it."

"If that was all it was, I'd agree with you. Unfortunately, that isn't all. You took everything I said to you about the reasons why Brenda needs to be fairer in her dealings with people, and you turned it into us doing something to take advantage of her. Did you forget all of it? Did you even notice the difference in the way Brenda caters to me while she forces you to cater to her. She isn't getting me to come over to her house and clean up her room. When it comes to sex things, she's willing, even anxious, to do whatever I want. She was the one asking me to do things to her. If I treated her the way you do, I'd be having the same problems with her that you are."

"I don't have fights with her like you do."

"No, because you don't ever tell her no, or ask for any consideration from her. How can she get upset with you if you do anything she asks you to do? Emily, it has to be hard on you being treated like this?"

"She told me twenty times, at least, that she doesn't want to lick me."

"She would have licked you tonight, if you could have put her off and refused to lick her for another five or ten minutes. She was frustrated when she asked you to lick her. She was the one who asked, right?"

"Yes, and I told her that I would. She never asked me to do it before."

"Well, I guess we did make a little progress then, didn't we? Why do you think she asked you, when she tells you she only lets you do that as a favor to you?" Emily looked at me, I could see the realization dawning on her. She hadn't given Brenda's request that much thought. She hadn't realized that, by asking, Brenda had given the lie to her own stated reasons for allowing Emily to lick her pussy. "Emily, she loves having you lick her. She's always loved it. It just adds to her power over you if she makes it seem like it isn't anything she particularly enjoys."

"Even if she does love it, that doesn't mean she'd like doing it to me."

"Now, that's true, but is it relevant? Did you love helping her clean up her room, or did you just suffer through it to help her out? You keep losing sight of the real problem, Emily. Brenda takes advantage of people. One of the worst ways is when she demands a lot from people, and gives back too little in return. Letting her continue to do that with you makes her lower your standing in her eyes. Brenda respects money, power, and control. The more you allow her to roll over you, the less respect she'll have for you."

"How do you know this? Where did they teach it to you?"

"I learned it the hard way, at St. Cecelia's. I was the only boy there they left mostly alone. Mother Superior was a lot like my mother and like Brenda. If you let her push you around, she'd do it even more, but if you stood up to her, and refused to let her bully you, she'd go concentrate on the easier kids, and the nuns. The last few years, she didn't like me at all, but she mostly left me alone, which was all I wanted."

"If you think Brenda is so bad, why do you bother with doing this?"

"Well, for one thing, she's my friend, and I want to help her find a better way to get along with people."

"Okay, what else?"

"I want her to be able to get along better with me, and for me to get along better with her."

"So, it's selfish on your part too?"

"I guess it is, but I'm not wanting more from her than I'm willing to give. We made this deal to be friends again, because that was all I would agree to being with her. If she changes enough, maybe our deal changes too."

"You love her!" I shook my head no, that I didn't, but I could see she didn't believe me.

"I don't love her. I'm just like Brenda is with me. I love who she might turn out to be. She can't become that person though, not if you keep teaching her that she doesn't have to treat people fairly."

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 10

The next morning, Mama did get up, and went with Hans, traveling to the bank in Bolling, to sign the papers guaranteeing the forty million dollar operating line for the new acquisition. She looked tired, and very fragile, but she went to do what needed doing. Uncle Bunny had already been asked to fill in for her at the meeting with the construction company people. These were the people hired to build the lodge needed to house all the golf camp students. Mama had made complete notes about everything she wanted to cover in the meeting, so Uncle Bunny would be adequately prepared to fill in for her.

I had Gerta ready to give me a ride out to the club, but Elizabeth volunteered to drive me there instead. We took Mama's car, and Elizabeth apologized for yelling at me the morning before.

"I was thinking about Lonnie, out in the garden, when you found me. I got mad at you later, because I like remembering him, but I'm already starting to forget. I forget the littlest things already, the ones that were so much a part of who Lonnie was. He's becoming blurred to me now, and soon, all I'll remember is the Reader's Digest, edited version, of who he was. I'm already losing all the important details."

"I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't think I knew you well enough to ask you that question directly, that's why I asked Gerta. I'm sorry you're unhappy, and I didn't want to make you unhappier."

"Gerta really got on me about me yelling at you. You'd be better off asking her if she's your mother, instead of me. I'm amazed at the way she acts so protective of you. She's worried about you seeing me smoking, that you might be tempted to try it for yourself."

"I guess I was tempted at first, when we were out in the garden, and you were laughing about everything. After though, in the kitchen, I could see it worked both ways, happy and sad."

"No, the sad was all from me. The buds put me in a calmer place, so I can put up with how shitty my life is now. If I didn't have my knowing I'd be getting high to look forward to, I'd probably go on a permanent crying jag."

"Mama gets real depressed. Did you see how she looked this morning? By the time she gets home, it will be worse. She might be like that for two or three weeks, and she won't eat and can't take care of herself. When she gets that way, all of us worry."

"Why isn't she on some mood elevators? I had some, for the first few months after Lonnie's accident. They help, but I felt out of it, and numb, for the whole time I took them. I prefer the natural way myself. The secret to depression is getting relaxed. The more relaxed you get, the less things bother you."

"Mama doesn't smoke though, not even regular cigarettes."

"You don't have to smoke it. I make a killer brownie, and my Ganja spaghetti sauce got raves wherever I've served it." I didn't think food would help Mama. If food could help, Gerta would have cured her years before.

"Sometimes Gerta makes her little pastries that she eats when she's depressed, but mostly, she won't eat anything. I don't think you can get her to eat food when she's depressed bad, and if you did, it probably wouldn't help."

"It isn't the food that helps, its the THC in the food. You get her to eat a bowl of my Ganja spaghetti, and we'll just see about how depressed she is after. It might not cure it, but it will definitely relax her, and that's good."

"She has a lot of trouble sleeping when she get her melancholia."

"I have trouble sleeping too, and this would help her with that too. Ask Gerta if she's interested in trying it. I don't want to bring it up with her, but she might listen if you tell her about what I just told you."

I went to my lesson with Dave, but my mind wasn't on it that much. Several times, Dave got upset with me because I wasn't paying attention like I usually would. I kept thinking about what Elizabeth had told me. It didn't make much sense to me that our fill in cook would know more than all the doctors Mama had been to. Marijuana was illegal besides. I had grown up in an environment where we were taught that our bodies were God's temples, and we weren't even supposed to drink or smoke. We were taught to eat good, and to exercise ourselves often, to keep our temples in good shape for God. I had seen Mama during many of these depressions, and she wasn't taking care of her temple anyway. I didn't think that Elizabeth's ideas would work, but I wasn't going to discard them out of hand, not before finding out if they might work. I'd have a talk with Gerta when I got home.

Brenda came out to the club at twelve, and we had a good lunch together. Several times she made comments about it being nice that it was just the two of us. When I tried to bring up the way she treated Emily, she told me not to ruin the good time we were having. After lunch, we went for a quick swim. Brenda and I fooled around in the water, but there wasn't anyone else in the pool area when we did. It was mostly just touching underwater, and kissing, back on the two loungers we'd pushed together. At two o'clock, I got up from the lounger and went in to change into golfing clothes.

Dressed, I stopped off to get my clubs back from the members equipment storage room. At two thirty, Hans drove up with Jane and Grace. Hans had stopped off at the company to pick up Grace when he was bringing Mama home from the bank. Jane had driven home from the construction site. Both girls were concerned about the way Mama had been acting at home, before they left. Grace said Mama had been withdrawn, and had kept to herself for the whole ride home.

I explained to both girls about Mama's depression, telling them that it sometimes got really bad, but that she'd be back to her normal self when it was all over. I was glad to see that they were concerned about Mama too. They both wanted to know if they could do anything to help.

We had a good round of golf, but, again, I got my ears pinned back as far as scoring went. Grace won, which surprised both Jane and me. She had six birdies and three bogeys for a sixty nine. Jane had a thirty four on the front, which tied her with Grace, but the thirty nine on the back killed her. She made a double bogey on the last par three, when her tee shot landed in the water, and her next shot from the recovery area overshot the green and got buried in the rough behind. She did make a nice up and down for her five though.

My game wasn't sharp either. I made an eighty five, but I made several mental errors that cost me strokes. I wasn't executing well, and I failed to make a single birdie putt the whole round.

We had Hans pick us up, and that was when I asked Jane how come she and Grace hadn't driven out in her car.

"We planned to, but I told Hans there was a funny noise coming from the front of the car, whenever I put my brakes on. He told me it probably needed new brake pads, and he'd take care of it for me."

"Hans has been having some bad back problems, Jane. We've been trying to get him to do less until after it gets better."

"Nobody told me, Kenny. I thought he always walked like that, because of his age. I won't let him help me anymore."

"Don't worry about it. I was just telling you because I forgot to tell you before. Hans tries to pretend he's all right, and do all the stuff he does normally. He keeps putting too much pressure on his back. That's what Gerta says. She told me he'd get better if he would stay off of his feet and quit moving around so much."

As soon as we got home, Grace and Jane went up to Hans and started yelling at him for not taking better care of his back. Hans didn't say anything, other than to hand Jane her car keys and then show her the old, worn brake pads, he's finished changing for her. I took both girls aside after we were in the house and told Grace about how I wanted her to flirt with Hans as part of the plan I had to get back at him for his teasing me about the rubbers. I told them both that I'd warn Gerta first that it was just me getting back at Hans. When I was done with that, I was going to go in the kitchen to tell Gerta, but then I decided to go upstairs and look in on Mama first.

She was on her bed when I found her, and she was weeping softly. I went over and sat on the bed and lifted her up so I could hug her. I didn't try to talk to her much, other than to tell her I loved her and hoped she'd feel better soon. I held her like that for about half an hour, then I kissed her on the cheek and told her that I'd look in on her later. I left her room, and went over to my own.

The first thing I noticed was that there was a phone again on my night stand. I had missed that when I switched rooms. Uncle Bunny had two phone lines over in the area that had been his office. One was a separate line that was his for business calls, and the other was the normal phone line in the house, and it was hooked up to the internal paging system. I had said something to Gerta about wishing I still had a phone by my bed.

I wanted to try my new phone, so I picked it up and paged the kitchen. Gerta came on the line, and I took the opportunity to tell her about my having asked the girls to tease Hans because he had teased me. She laughed and said she would go along with it.

"Gerta, I just got back from visiting with Mama in her room. She's depressed again, and she's curling up in a ball like she does. I talked to Elizabeth earlier, and she thinks Mama would feel better if she were relaxed."

"Your Mama doesn't need to take drugs, Kenny. They tried that before. It helped very little, and when she wasn't depressed, she wasn't able to be her normal self. She hated taking those pills."

"I'm not talking about pills, Gerta. Elizabeth told me that marijuana helps her to relax, and she says she can cook things with it that have the same effect. I think we should let her make some things, and not tell Mama what we're putting in there. We can see if it helps or not, and if it doesn't, we'll just stop. If it does, maybe you can add it to your own cooking, whenever she looks like she's just starting to be depressed."

"Kenny, I know you mean well, but you aren't a doctor. Elizabeth smokes that marijuana, and she has to make those claims for it in order to justify doing it."

"If Dad tells you it's all right, would you do it then?"

"No. He wouldn't permit it anyway. You should give it up, Kenny, it's a bad idea."

"How about if Uncle Bunny says it's okay too?"

"If you get Bunny and Mr. Parsons both to say it's okay, I'll let Elizabeth make something, but I'm not going to be involved in any part of it. This isn't aspirin, Kenny. This is illegal drugs you're talking about giving your Mama."

"Gerta. I know it is. I wouldn't even be thinking about something like this if those doctors, the ones you seem to think so much of, had ever been able to help Mama at all with her depression. Dad told me that her health is going to be hurt by all the times she refuses to eat or drink when she's depressed. The older she gets, the harder it is on her. You've said yourself that she doesn't get over these things as fast anymore. Even if it doesn't work completely, maybe it will help her a little bit. I know you love her, and don't like watching her go through this. We'll know quick enough if it helps, or if it doesn't."

When Dad came home, about half an hour before dinner, I went into his study, and spoke to him about it. Like Gerta had predicted, he was against the idea too. I asked him if he had any better ideas, but he simply refused to discuss it with me anymore.

After dinner, I went upstairs and called Uncle Bunny at home. I was just getting started telling him about Elizabeth, and her talking about marijuana relaxing people, when Uncle Bunny stopped me, laughing.

"You want to lace Bertie's food with marijuana, Kenny? Or, are you going to take a bowlful of it up to her bedroom, and try to get her to smoke it?"

"Food. Mama doesn't smoke."

"Did you talk to Tommy about this idea?"

"Yes, he's against doing anything like that."

"Kenny, I see some problems associated with this idea. Unlike most people, I see no real harm with trying something like this. I don't believe it will work, but I see no real harm in trying it. I especially like the idea of seeing Bertie, sitting at the dinner table, high as a kite from the veal parmigiana. They say it's no worse than alcohol for you. One problem is that possession of marijuana is a crime. Another problem I see, is that you and Elizabeth are attempting to act in place of physicians, without proper education or licensing. Neither of these represent too much of a risk however. Do you want me to talk to Tommy for you?"

"I don't think it will do any good. He wouldn't even let me talk to him about it. I don't understand why he doesn't want to try something that might help."

"We're fairly conservative people, Kenny. We're not given to radical acts to promote unorthodox cures. It isn't that he doesn't want to help Bertie, he simply can't believe that something illegal would help her. I'll have to plant the seeds of doubt, but give me a few days to find a way. Hold off on Elizabeth. It would be a mistake to try any of this without Tommy giving the go ahead."

It was Friday before my Dad came to me, asking me if I thought Mama was getting worse. I told him she wasn't as bad as I'd seen her, but it also bothered me that nothing was being done to try to keep her from having these episodes. He and I went over all the things that had been tried since Mama was thirteen years old. All the tests, and all the consulting specialists. In the end, no one had found any answer to her problem. Everyone thought it was just something that had to be endured, a chronic, intermittent depression.

"Kenny, in a way we're all lucky. Half of the specialists, maybe more than half, predicted that she would have slipped into full time depression by now, never coming out of it. The rest ranged from thinking she'd stay the same to saying she would heal herself with time. This idea of yours, it might send her into a permanent full time depression. Bunny's already talked to me, but I don't think it's worth taking that risk."

"If you'd come up to her room with me and sit with her for a few hours, Dad, then I'd be more willing to listen to you if you still felt the same way."

"I've seen her too, Kenny. I have a very good idea of what she's going through right now. I also know, she'll get through it. When she does, things will be good for her again. Good for all of us."

"It isn't hard to take if all you have to do is pop your head inside her door, and see her balled up on her bed, crying. Try sitting with her, holding her in your arms for four or five hours at a time, feeling it as her terrible sorrow wracks her body. See how helpless you feel, when the only thing she does is lie there, crying for the whole time you're holding her. After you do that for five or six days in a row, then you can tell me what isn't worth trying."

"You and Bunny both think you can sway me with this type of emotional appeal, and I resent it. Where is one shred of evidence that this would work? Nowhere, because such evidence doesn't exist! I'm not going to risk Bertie's entire future on the half baked claims of some pot head."

"Not everything is guaranteed, or tried and tested. Sometimes, you have to try things that you don't believe in, Not because you think they'll work, but because you can't just keep standing around trying nothing. After more than thirty years, if I was Mama, I'd want to try anything. If you keep trying, it means you haven't given up. You know Mama hates to give up, and you know how much she hates getting this way."

"Very well, you have my permission to ask her if she wants to ingest this poison, but only after she gets through this present ordeal. You are not to attempt this, not without her own, personal, permission for you to do so."

After dinner, Dad went up and went into Mama's bedroom. He had never done that before, not while she was like she was then. I'm not sure how long he stayed there, but he was still in there with her when I checked on her, just before turning in at eleven o'clock. I felt bad for him, that I'd talked like that to him. I wondered if Mama knew or cared who it was sitting there with her. I hoped she did know. His being in there with her for so long, was the same as if he had shouted to her that he loved her.

At nine thirty the next morning, I called Emily, and asked her if she wanted to meet me at the club, for lunch, and to go swimming afterwards. I told her I wasn't inviting Brenda.

"She isn't going to like it, Kenny, and she'll be mad at me if I go with you."

"Did you think about what we talked about, yesterday? Have you decided to settle for the way things are, or are you willing to do something to change them?"

"We get along pretty well already. I don't want to lose her as a friend."

"Okay. I'm not going to try to force you anymore. It is hard being your friend, Emily, because you seem determined to be the victim. It's bad enough wanting to be a victim, but you even go a step further, and refuse to let people help you. Brenda is going to continue treating you worse than you deserve, and that is going to make it harder for her to learn to be a better person. To me, this means you aren't a good friend for her. Helping her to be worse with how she treats people, is the same as Claudia always trying to get her to be as bad about sex as she is."

"That isn't what I'm doing. You don't understand because you don't care if she stays your friend or not."

"I care. I just don't need for her to be my friend more than I care about her being a better friend to people than she now is. People just like you, Emily. I care enough to want to do what helps Brenda, even if it hurts her and I being friends."

"I can't afford to lose her."

"Okay. Call me if you ever decide I'm right. I still want to be your friend, Emily, but you need to find out for yourself that your way isn't going to get you what you want from Brenda."

I went to my lesson, and had a quick lunch, alone, after. I stayed on the practice range, after lunch, hitting two large buckets of balls. I wasn't paying that much attention to actually hitting the balls, I just spent the time thinking about things, and used the practice as an excuse to be by myself, undisturbed. By the time I called home, for a ride back to the house, I'd made some decisions.

At dinner that night, Grace told us about how she had gone in the kitchen that morning and flirted with Hans. She told us she had asked him if she could sit in his lap, but he had refused to let her, saying his back hurt too bad. Gerta had left the kitchen before any of this took place, by prior arrangement, and Grace said she could hear her laughing later, after Hans had driven me to the club for my lesson. Jane said she wanted a turn too. Dad listened to us talking, but he didn't say anything.

After dinner, Dad again went up to spend time with Mama. He only stayed for an hour though, and when he came down, he went into the kitchen to speak with Gerta, before going to his study and shutting the door. After he was in his study, I went in the kitchen to ask Gerta what he'd said to her.

"He just said he's worried. I've checked on her all day, Kenny, and she is okay. This isn't so bad this time. Today, I got her to drink some wine and water. I'm going up later with a highball for her. If she drinks it, maybe she sleeps. If not, maybe one more day before she sleeps. The sleeping is the key. If she sleeps, she'll wake up, and she won't be depressed anymore. He never spent so much time with her before, that's why he's worried."

"He won't let us give Mama the marijuana, not unless she first agrees to try it. He says I have to wait until she's better before asking her. Uncle Bunny is willing for her to try it though."

"Bunny has already tried it, lots of times, back when he was younger. You think that's why he never got what your Mama has?"

"I don't know. I don't really have much faith in that as a cure. I was mostly hoping it would just make it less difficult for her. Elizabeth says it really relaxes her."

"If Liz keeps spending so much of her time relaxed, she's not going to be working here much longer. Today, she was two hours late coming to work. This is when we needed her the most too. It's the reason she was hired for, to free my time up so I could look after your Mama. I already told her not to do that again."

"Don't fire her before we find out if the marijuana works for Mama. Besides, she does make good bread, and she helps you with cleaning up the kitchen. She also carries a lot of things, so that you and Hans don't have to. She's not happy. If you fire her, she'll be even worse off."

"Kenny, you can't help people if they don't want it."

This made me think of Emily, so I had to agree with her. I left the kitchen right after that, stopping off for a few minutes, to see Mama. She was a little better. She had stopped crying, and was just looking at the ceiling. I held her hand, telling her about my golf lesson and all the practicing I did after. When Gerta came in, I got up and let Gerta take my place. She had developed a method, over the course of many years, designed to get Mama started with drinking highballs. She held the glass up between Mama's lips and then splashed the drink with the fingers of her free hand. Sooner or later, Mama would react. She'd either pull her face out of the way, or else open her mouth, and let some of the drink in. This time, after five or six splashes, she opened her mouth. In a few minutes, Gerta was giving her sips just by tilting the glass up.

"Kenny, go downstairs and get Hans to make me another highball for your Mama. She's tired and thirsty. One more drink and she can sleep."

"I went downstairs, but instead of bothering Hans, I went to Dad's study, and knocked.

"Gerta wants you to make Mama another high ball. She's drinking one now, and Gerta says she'll sleep if she has one more. You want me to take it up to her, or do you want to do it?"

"No, I'll do it. Thank you, Kenny."

"You're welcome, but what for?"

"For helping me to understand some things I've never understood before. I've been thinking about some of those things tonight. I'm not very proud of my conclusions. Your mother's welfare is very important to me, and yet, I've distanced myself from her greatest challenge. She deserves better from me, and she shall have it."

Dad was a stuffed shirt, most of the time, and usually, too full of himself at others. There was a basic decency to him though, you just had to dig pretty deep to find it. I watched as he hurried off to make the drink for Mama. I hoped she'd be aware enough to know it had been made by him, for her, and that he had chosen to deliver it to her himself. I had decided I'd try new things for Mama, and getting Dad more involved with her illness was one of those new things.

When I went into Mama's room just before eleven, she was asleep, and there were three empty highball glasses sitting next to her on the nightstand. Her face looked relaxed and carefree. Sleeping beside her, fully clothed was Dad. His face looked equally relaxed. I decided not to wake him up, hoping a good night's sleep would be more important to him than his being upset at sleeping in his clothes. I hoped Mama would wake up first, and see him sleeping there. I knew she would get a thrill from that.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 11

The next morning, Mama awoke, feeling better, but still weak. She stayed in bed, but received visitors all day. Gerta was usually hovering nearby, always with some small treat in her hand, either a liquid, or something more substantial, trying to get Mama to replace the weight she had lost from her latest bout with depression.

When I was in with Mama, I could see that something was troubling her. It had to be something concerning me, because of the way she'd stare at me. She looked like she wanted to tell me something. Whatever it was, she was having difficulty bringing it up.

"Is something wrong, Mama?" I saw her face flush. "Is it something I did wrong?"

"Last night, I woke up, and saw you looking at me, Kenny. I wasn't awake long, but later, I felt you touching me inappropriately. I hope this isn't your regular practice when I'm indisposed with my melancholia?"

"I didn't touch you last night. Not after you were sleeping. I've never done that, and I never would, Mama. Why did you think it was me?"

"I saw you, Kenny. You were standing right where you are now. I was only awake for a few seconds, but I opened my eyes and I saw you. A short while later, I felt your hand under my nightie. I rolled over, but you persisted, until I spoke up, telling you to stop."

"That wasn't me, Mama. I wouldn't do anything like that. Did you ask Dad if he did that? He was sleeping right next to you when I looked in on you last night." Mama looked surprised.

"Your father was in here last night? Sleeping?"

"He was when I saw him. After he made you a drink and brought it up here to you. Gerta was in here getting you to drink the first one, and then Dad came up with another, after Gerta told me to have Hans make it for you."

"He made a drink and brought it up to me?"

"Yes, I asked him to make it, because I didn't want to bother Hans, with his bad back. I asked Dad to make it, and when I told him I'd bring it up here, he told me he would take it to you. When I came in at around eleven, there were three empty highball glasses, and you and Dad were sleeping on your bed."

"Your father was in here, with me? You're sure of this?"

"He's been in here with you a lot this time Mama, you can ask Gerta. It must have been him doing that touching. I know it wasn't me. Maybe he was asleep too? Don't people do that sometimes, in their sleep?"

"Excuse me, Kenny. I'm still a little confused. I remember seeing you last night, but I don't remember seeing your father. I do remember hearing your voice and Gerta's too, but never his. I find it unnerving that your father was so close, and I was completely unaware of his presence."

"Are you going to be okay now?"

"I'll be fine by tomorrow. I don't feel up to dressing for dinner or anything, but I'm fine. Did Bunny mention how the meeting with Franto Construction went?"

"I haven't seen him since before you got ill. I know he got the notes you made, because Hans said he drove them over to him. Dad must know. I know he spoke to Uncle Bunny on the phone, about the marijuana."

"Excuse me, did you say marijuana?"

"It was this idea I got from Elizabeth."

"Oh no, Kenny, she didn't try to get you to smoke that with her, did she?"

"No, and I wouldn't anyway. We were talking about her depression, and she said she preferred to treat it without the mood elevators her doctors prescribed. She said she smokes marijuana, because it's natural, and it keeps her from crying."

"I'll have a word with Gerta. Elizabeth will have to leave our employ. I won't tolerate drug use in my home, or having people who use drugs, working for me."

"She says there's something in it that relaxes people, so they can sleep. She says being relaxed helps depression. She said she can cook with it, so you wouldn't have to smoke any to get the benefits. Uncle Bunny said it probably wouldn't hurt to try it. Gerta said Uncle Bunny tried it, lots of times, when he was younger, and he doesn't get depressions." Mama laughed, weakly.

"Yes, I remember he did that. He didn't have depression before he smoked it either."

"I though it might help, and nobody is even trying anything else to help stop the depressions."

"You're sweet to think of me, but, I don't plan to poison my own body with smoking or eating Marijuana. It might be more dangerous than my present condition. Suppose I got addicted to it? Drug addiction is insidious, Kenny."

"It doesn't matter then. Dad said we couldn't try it, not without you agreeing to do it."

"Did Elizabeth present any medical support for her opinions?"

"She didn't ask me if she could do it, it was my idea. I asked her, because I saw she was laughing and feeling better. It was later that she told me she was thinking about her dead husband, and was depressed because she's afraid she's forgetting him. She said the marijuana helps her not to be so sad, and keeps her from having permanent crying jags. It isn't her fault that I was thinking about how it might help you, and I hope you don't get Gerta to fire her."

"Marijuana is illegal, Kenny. I would be irresponsible if I allowed drugs being on my property. If they found out I did it knowingly, I'd be an accessory."

"Maybe it wasn't a good idea, but it was my fault, not Elizabeth's. She doesn't deserve to be fired."

"I'll have Gerta speak with her, tell her we won't tolerate drug use on my property."

We left it at that. It was Saturday, and Jane, Grace, and I were playing golf at eleven. When I went downstairs, Dad was in his study again, working on something or other. I was disappointed that he'd gotten out of Mama's bed without her knowing he'd stayed there with her. I knocked on his door.

"I just visited with Mama. She says she's feeling okay, just a little bit weak. She isn't depressed now."

"Excellent. Gerta assured me that her weakness will disappear with the intake of food and liquids. I'm happy that she's over the worst of it."

"She didn't know you slept with her last night. In fact, she accused me of touching her when she was asleep, so I told her you were sleeping on her bed when I looked in on her last night." Dad's face got red, and he started to say something several times, but couldn't find the words he wanted.

"I'll speak with your mother, and clear up this misunderstanding with her."

"Jane and Grace are in with her now, so you might want to wait before you do that. Are you planning on reading business things in here all day?"

"There is a lot of information to sort through. I postponed my trip to Omaha, because I wanted to be here for your mother, but I need to get prepared for Monday's trip."

"Can't you take it up to her room and read it there? The girls and I are going to play golf, and I'm sure Mama would appreciate the company. Maybe you can read some of it out loud to her, and see if she thinks the same way you do. You know how much she likes it when you talk about doing something that makes her money."

"I don't want to tire her out, and sometimes, these reports and statements can be pretty dry and dull reading."

"You know Dad, Mama doesn't think this stuff is dull. I think it excites her when you talk about that stuff. As long as you remember to keep putting in the parts where she's going to make lots of new money. You would think, or, at least, I would, that with all the money she has, a few more million wouldn't mean that much to her." Dad laughed, and this time, it sounded like he really meant it.

"Kenny, you have so much to learn about money. From our conversations, and the other reports I've been receiving, there isn't anything I can teach you about social skills. I do know about money though, and about the power it has over people. I include myself in this as well. With rich people, acquiring money is a sport, as well as a passion. It doesn't matter how much you might have, there is always excitement at the prospect of getting more.

"Your mother understands yields, returns, interest, and investment appreciation. She understands, and enjoys seeing her money grow. What she doesn't understand, is how to take nothing, or a group of things holding very little value, and transform it into something, something holding greatly enhanced value. To her, it's like magic. Take this Lucas Company we've acquired. Two months ago, they went out and ordered, prepaid, forty eight new delivery trucks, costing a total of nine hundred thousand dollars. The trucks have yet to be delivered. Because of redundant delivery routes, we're in a position to combine and streamline our deliveries, making these trucks no longer necessary. Yesterday, I arranged with the fleet sales department, for a cancellation of that order and a full refund of the payment. The nine hundred thousand is sitting in our operating account, making it less likely that Bunny or your mother will need to increase their exposure by having to provide operating capital for the new business. Even though it was only a fortuitous circumstance, presenting us with an opportunity to convert one asset into another, to your mother, it will seem like magic. It changed our new company's net worth not at all, and yet, by freeing up that money, it enhanced the purchase, bringing it closer to her ideal investment."

"What's her ideal investment?"

"Right now, it's to acquire seventy million dollars worth of assets for forty million dollars, without touching one penny of her own personal capital. If I can find another four million dollars of non-producing assets to convert into operating cash, her ideal will have been achieved."

"How likely is it that you can?" Dad looked at me, a smug smile on his face.

"There's a warehouse in Lincoln, with 20,000 square feet of storage capability. We have two other distribution centers in Lincoln. Together, these two have more than enough spare capacity to free up the Lucas warehouse. I put it on the market this morning, for five point two million. Our real estate people tell me we can expect several quick offers at asking price, or quite near it. This asset was purchased three years ago, for six million dollars by Ron Lucas. In addition to the cash freed up, we'll be able to take a write off on our eight hundred thousand dollar loss with the sale. After making a ballpark appraisal of all of the remaining assets, I still believe the company will be worth seventy million, without the trucks, and minus that warehouse."

"So, you get the company without spending any of your own money?"

"So it would appear. There is still the personal liability for the forty million, but I plan on converting all corporate debt from the four companies into a single revolving credit line. One which won't require any personal guarantees from any of us. In six months, your mother and Bunny will each have their forty six million back, and own thirty per cent of a company worth a net one hundred eighty million. The company will be worth three hundred million, with one hundred twenty million dollars of exposure on a one hundred fifty million dollar revolving credit line."

"You better make sure Mama's bedroom door is locked when you explain to her how you're going to do this. Especially that part about her getting her forty six million back in six months." I was half kidding, but Dad looked at me and nodded his agreement. In a minute, he was gathering up a bunch of the papers spread out on his desk. Soon, I could see he was ready for me to leave. When I went out of his study, he came out too, with a big stack of papers. I watched as he walked up the stairs, towards their bedroom.

Grace, Jane, and I played golf. We went up to the practice range first, warming ourselves up with a regular bucket of practice balls, equally divided among the three of us. The only excitement during the round was when Grace just missed a seven foot eagle putt on the front. Jane won, with a seventy, followed by Grace, with a seventy four, and me, with an eighty two. At the turn, we had stopped in at the snack bar, buying hotdogs and drinks, so, after we finished our round, we decided to skip having lunch at the restaurant. Instead, we changed into our swim suits and headed over to the pool for a swim.

Carol was home from college, and I introduced her to Jane and Grace. This time, it was Carol and Grace making eyes at each other, and Jane's turn to make catty and sarcastic comments. I flirted with Carol, giving her a massage, while rubbing in her tanning lotion. I made up several stories about Bea, trying to prevent Carol from causing any real problems with the girls. In one of these stories, I told Carol that Bea had told me to keep an eye out for her, since she was planning on making a visit, sometime in the summer. While I was busy neutralizing Carol, Grace and Jane were having a spirited discussion of their own. I was afraid they might get too loud in the pool area, so I told them we needed to leave. The walk over to Jane's car by the three of us was punctuated by heated accusations, and angry counter charges. That night, Grace came downstairs to sleep in Bea's old room, and, on Sunday, Jane moved back home to her father's trailer in Bolling, claiming she needed some time alone, to think.

Mama was very upset, with me. Somehow, she blamed me for introducing Carol to Grace in the first place. As for Grace, she wasn't adverse at all to receiving Mama's sympathy. Mama remembered Jane's earlier display, back when she had first met Brenda. Mama insisted that Grace move back into my old room, telling her that Bea's room wasn't good enough.

On Monday, Jane called me from the job site, using the phone in the contractor's trailer. She spent ten minutes asking me questions about how Grace was doing, alternating between accusations and fear and remorse, for the things she had said to Grace. When I told her that Grace had gone to work normally with my father, Jane practically accused my dad and me of having affairs with Grace. I told her we weren't, and that she was being silly to even think that. She ended up giving me a message for Grace: apologize for what she had said, or forget about her, forever. I was glad I wasn't caught up in any of it.

That night, after dinner, I was up in my room, trying to decide if I wanted to return Brenda's earlier call or not. We had talked for half an hour before dinner, but all Brenda was talking about was how unfair it was that her parents weren't taking her out shopping for some new summer clothes. It almost sounded to me like she was hoping that I'd suggest taking her myself, or else I'd ask my mother to take her shopping again. I finally decided to call her back, hoping she was done with hinting around about needing new summer clothes.

It turned out that she was done. She had somehow talked Emily into taking her shopping over in Bolling the next day. She spent a few minutes telling me that at least one of her friends cared about how she looked. She asked me if I wanted to help her pay for a new bathing suit, telling me that she wanted to get something real nice, just for me, but wouldn't feel right asking Emily or her mother to pay for it. I told her I'd give her forty dollars, which was most of the spare cash I had now. I hadn't made any money playing golf with my parents or Uncle Bunny since Grace and Jane came to stay with us, and I hadn't had a chance to talk to Uncle Bunny about the trust account he'd set up for me, from the money my parents had given me. Brenda said she'd come by in the morning to pick up the forty dollars. She said it to me in a way that made me think she had been hoping for a lot more money from me. After we got off the phone, I found myself a little angry with her.

It was around ten o'clock when Grace knocked on my door. I yelled for whoever it was to come in, and was surprised to see it was her. I'd already told her about Jane's call, and the message she'd given me for her. When I told Grace what Jane's message was, she just looked at me, then yelled, "Fuck!", before turning away, and going up to her room. She hadn't come down for dinner, and when Mama sent me up to knock on her door, to tell her it was dinner time, she'd just yelled at me to go away.

"Kenny, can I talk to you?"

"Sure. Come in, sit down." I patted my mattress, indicating for her to sit on the bed too. She came over and sat on the bottom edge of my bed, about three feet from me.

"What am I going to do now?" She looked like she had been crying. From the tone of her question, I didn't think she really expected me to tell her. It didn't really sound like she was looking for my advice.

"Did you call her?"

"I can't. There's no way I'm apologizing to her, not when she's being such a little bitch." She sounded convincingly angry. If she called Jane, starting out with that tone, nothing good would come of their conversation.

"What did you say to her that she wants you to apologize for?"

"It was personal."

Well, she'd come to my room. Presumably, it was to discuss this situation with Jane. How was I supposed to refrain from being personal? I wasn't sure whether she wanted conversation, or just someone to listen to her complaining.

"Why is she being such a little bitch, then?"

"I can say that about her, but you can't."

"Get out of my room, Grace. Don't come back until you stop wanting to pick a fight with me."

"I'm sorry, Kenny. She makes me so fucking mad sometimes."

"That's because you love her. You didn't have to try and get back at her by flirting with Carol."

"I wasn't flirting with her, she was flirting with me."

"It looked to me like both of you were flirting with each other. I'm sure it looked even worse to Jane, because she loves you."

"I just wanted her to see how it feels when someone you care about does that to you."

"So, you flirted with Carol to teach her a lesson?"

"Mostly, yes. It was fun too, watching how everyone was reacting to what we were doing."

"Is it still fun?"

"You aren't helping me here, Kenny. I was hoping you'd have some ideas at least."

"I'd call her, and tell her I loved her, and I was sorry."

"She called me a cheating cunt."

Even I recognized that wasn't very nice thing to say to someone. Grace was obviously very upset. I started thinking she just wanted some assurance that it wasn't as hopeless as she seemed to think.

"Maybe she'll apologize too. She called here first, trying to make an effort to get something to happen. Her threat was just a way of trying not to show total weakness. She took the first step, now you have to do something. You both tied this whole thing into a big ugly knot, and you need to take turns unraveling it. What did you say to her that made her mad enough to call you that?"

"Just something. It wasn't as bad as what she said to me though. I didn't even mean it, but she was making me so mad with her holier than thou attitude. It was her that told me to sleep with Jimmy in the first place. It wasn't my idea. I told her that he didn't get pissed every time I looked at somebody else."

"Her brother, Jimmy? She didn't know that you did it with him?" I was having trouble figuring out how their argument had gone from Carol and Brenda, all the way to Jimmy.

"She knew. She just didn't know how often we did it. She thought it was like once or twice. I told her he could do everything she could do, plus more. I didn't mean it, but after she called me a cheating cunt, I certainly wasn't going to tell her that."

"I think you have to call her, and apologize. Unless, you don't really care if the two of you are finished?"

"You call her, Kenny. Tell her I'll apologize to her, but only after she apologizes for what she said."

"Let me think about it. I'll let you know when I decide." Grace smiled.

"When will that be?"

"Maybe in a month, maybe longer."

"That won't help." Grace had that angry look back again.

"Get out of my room, Grace. I'm not going to get caught in the middle of this. If you want to tell her something, you tell her. If not, we should all wait and see what happens. I better warn you though, Brenda thinks Jane's pretty cute. I don't think she'd cheat on Emily, but I'm not guaranteeing she won't."

"Sure, Kenny, like I'd believe that."

Grace was discounting what I'd said, doubting me, not believing what I said that about Brenda and Emily.

"I've seen it with my own eyes, Grace, right here on this bed."

Grace got up and left my room. I felt a little bad about telling her about Brenda and Emily, but not as bad as I'd have felt if I'd allowed her to use me to communicate with Jane like she wanted.

I decided to call Emily, wanting to hear her version of Brenda's being invited to go clothes shopping with her. It was pretty much what I'd figured, the girls were going to Bolling with Emily's mother. Emily didn't have any idea that Brenda was expecting either her or her mom to pay for Brenda's clothes. Emily was still convinced that letting Brenda run all over her was a good thing, and that it made Brenda remaining her friend much more likely.

Brenda stopped by with Emily and her mother at nine o'clock. Dad and Grace had already left for the office. Mama was over at the learning center site, eager to see what progress had been made during her illness enforced absence. I handed her the two twenties as soon as I opened up the door for her. She kissed me, and thanked me, after first checking to make sure it was what I'd told her it would be. I watched them drive off.

In the kitchen, Gerta and Elizabeth were involved in a good natured argument about the amount of salt Elizabeth used in making her bread. Gerta said it wasn't enough, while, at the same time, admitting that Elizabeth made better bread than she did. Hans was driving Mama, so it was either Elizabeth or Gerta who'd be driving me. I sat for a few minutes, listening to them argue, while I was drinking a glass of milk, washing down my third cherry turnover of the morning. At nine forty five, I reminded Gerta that I needed to leave for my lesson at ten fifteen. I went in the living room and sat down. Gerta had started quoting the Bible about salt, so I just assumed that the argument was going to continue for a very long time. It was going to continue without me listening to it though.

At ten minutes after ten, Elizabeth came to get me, waving Mama's key ring at me as she approached.

"Are you ready, Kenny?" We weren't even out of the driveway before she wanted to know if Mama wanted her to make some of her brownies, or some spaghetti for her.

"Mama says no. She doesn't want to be addicted." Elizabeth laughed. I wondered if she had gone outside to smoke before coming to the living room to get me.

"Alcohol is more addictive. Tobacco is more addictive. Fried foods are harder to quit than pot. Fried foods are way harder to quit when you smoke dope." This seemed pretty funny to her, so I decided to fasten my seat belt.

"Do you get high everyday?" Elizabeth looked at me. I was getting nervous, so I raised my hand, pointing at the road ahead.

"I like to smoke. I'd say I like to take a few hits most days."

"Like every other day, or more often?"

"I don't keep track that close. I went a week without smoking last month. It wasn't any big deal."

"You just decided to stop for that week?"

"Sure, it wasn't hard to do. A lot of that crap they put out is just propaganda from the liquor lobby. Cannabis is much easier on the system, and more cost effective too. When you can score the weed. Sometimes, shit dries up so nobody's holding, and you have to do without. Sometimes, the crap they're trying to pass off as righteous, is so lame, you don't bother getting anything from your guy."

"Do you buy it?"

"Of course I buy it. You think this stuff grows on trees?" She really cracked up herself with that one. I was more worried about her cracking up Mama's car.

"Elizabeth, You're going to get fired if you keep getting high at our house. Mama and Gerta both told me that."

Elizabeth didn't say anything, but she did stop laughing, and she started paying better attention to how she was driving. At three, when I called Gerta, Hans came out to pick me up. When I got back to the house, Gerta told me that Elizabeth had been let go. I felt bad for her. I probably should have said something to warn her earlier than I did. I went up to my room for a few minutes to get changed. When I went back to the kitchen, Gerta was crying. I found Mama in the library, having a drink, and reading some papers. It turned out these were invoices for some of the changes Mama had ordered done to the lodge.

"Did you make Gerta fire, Elizabeth?"

"I made a strong recommendation for her to do so. Gerta has the final say though. Did she terminate her?"

"Yes, and now she's in the kitchen crying about it. You didn't have to fire her. I already warned her about the marijuana."

"You should have mentioned that you felt strongly about this. She hadn't been with us for very long. Shall I tell Gerta that I was merely suggesting?"

"I want to hire her back. I'll tell her no more smoking on the job."

"I cannot allow you to usurp Gerta's authority, Kenny. Ask her first if she has any objection. Taking care of the domestic situation is her sole purview." I thanked Mama, and walked back to the kitchen. When I came through the door, Gerta was bent over the oven, taking something out of it.

"Gerta, Mama said she was only suggesting about Elizabeth. You have the final say."

"It's done already. She shouldn't be driving in the condition she was in when she got back."

"Don't let her drive. Tell her no more smoking here either. I liked her, and so did you. She's strong, and she's a good worker. You should give her another chance."

"This was her other chance. I already told her not to drive that way anymore. How do you think we'd all feel if she had an accident with you in the car?"

"Let me call her then. If she promises not to smoke here anymore, can she come back?"

"No more driving, not even if she hasn't been smoking."

"I'll tell her. You aren't going to be mad at me for asking you to do this, are you?" Gerta went to her big book of telephone numbers and wrote out Elizabeth's number. She handed it to me and bent over to kiss me on my cheek.

"Such a good hearted boy. You tell her, one last chance, and no more."

I went up to my room to make the phone call. I dialed the number, but an older woman answered. When I asked for Elizabeth, the woman screamed her name before dropping the receiver. I waited more than a minute, but I heard noises coming through the earpiece, so I knew she hadn't hung up on me.

"Hello?"

"Elizabeth?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"Kenny Parsons."

"Are you calling to gloat? You got me fired, you twerp."

"I didn't get you fired. I just spoke to Mama and Gerta. They changed their minds. Only if you leave your marijuana at home, and don't drive anymore."

"I don't need that job. I'm not going to change my lifestyle to satisfy a bunch of uptight creeps. No one told me it was going to be so strict when I was hired."

"How many jobs have you had where your employer told you it was all right to come to work high, or to get high at work?" There was a period of silence.

"I'm moving from here anyway. Maybe it was a good thing I was let go. I'm thinking about going back to North Carolina. It wasn't such a good idea coming back here."

"You can live here. There's Bea's old room no one is using."

"I'm not going to live someplace where I can't even enjoy myself, after I'm off duty."

"You just have to go for a walk, off the property. You don't have to stay here when you're off duty. Gerta and Hans do, because they're old. You can do like you do now, except you'd sleep here too. No driving, and no smoking on the property, or when you're on duty, or about to come on duty."

"I wish you hadn't called here."

"I'm sorry. I was trying to help."

"I know that. You've given me another choice, and I wanted to get a lot further away than half a mile. I'll try it, but, if it doesn't work out, I'm going to quit and leave. I'll probably do that anyway."

"Do you have a lot of stuff to move?"

"Not too much, but I don't have a car."

"Hans and I can come over to help you. Will it all fit in the limo?"

"Easily. Why are you doing all this?"

"You aren't my mother, but I don't want you to get away until I'm sure we aren't related."

"We aren't."

"You can't be sure."

"I'm sure, because it's just my mother and me. Everyone on Mom's side is already dead, no brothers, and no sisters. My dad is dead and I have no siblings. My dad had one sister, and she had three daughters. None of them have any kids. That's my whole family. It isn't very big."

"None of your cousins had kids?"

"One married some guy who can't make babies, one's been a veggie for twelve or thirteen years, and the other one's a nun. No kids."

"Does Hans know where you live?"

"He's dropped me off a few times. Are you sure this is going to be all right with everybody? When I left there, nobody looked like they were going to miss me."

"I'll talk to Gerta. Mama says domestic decisions are hers. She won't mind. She likes you. She was crying after you left."

"She wasn't."

When are you going to be packed?"

"I am packed. I packed right after I got home and told my mother I'd been canned. Hell, it was really her idea."

"Do we have a deal about the smoking and the driving?"

"As long as you know I might quit if I don't like living there."

"We'll be by for you in about fifteen minutes."

I went in the kitchen and told Gerta what we'd worked out. When I told her that Elizabeth was going to live with us though, Gerta got a worried look on her face. I told her about the no smoking at work rule, and no smoking on the property rule, and she just nodded. I told her that Hans had to give me a ride over to Elizabeth's house to get her and her things. I assured her that I wouldn't let Hans do any lifting.

We got to Elizabeth's mother's house, and Elizabeth already had her three suitcases out next to the curb. I got out and had Hans pop open the trunk and threw in the two smaller bags. The biggest one was too big and too heavy, so I slid it in the back with us. When we got to the house, I helped Elizabeth carry her stuff into Bea's old room. After that, she and I went together to see Gerta. That meeting started out a little bad, because Gerta was putting on her gruff, no nonsense act. Elizabeth started trying to copy her soon after.

"Elizabeth didn't believe me when I told her you cried after she left, Gerta." She quit trying to pretend she was mean after that, and soon, the two of them were working together in the kitchen, almost like no one had been fired a few hours before.

I found Mama in the library. She and Dad were having a drink together.

"I had a hard time convincing her, Mama, but she agreed to move into Bea's old room."

"Who did, not Grace?" Mama looked shocked that I'd even suggest that.

"No, I meant Elizabeth. This will be a lot better. She can't be late now, and we'll be able to make sure she isn't developing any bad habits."

"Jane was inquiring about us giving her the use of that room when I saw her today. You can't make those types of decisions without checking with me first."

"I already did check with you, and you said it was Gerta's responsibility. Gerta approved it, and Elizabeth is here now, helping Gerta with dinner." Dad looked confused, obviously not having heard about Elizabeth being fired.

"What do I tell Jane? She's bringing her things back here tomorrow."

"I don't know. I guess she can pick which room she wants to sleep in, or she can go up in the guest room that's Uncle Bunny's new office. Didn't you say she was a guest, and Bea's old room wasn't good enough for her? All her new clothes are in Grace's closet anyway."

"Kenny, this places me in an awkward situation. I promised Jane."

"Jane is coming back for Grace, Mama. She's the one that left, not Grace. If she wants to come back, she has to settle this thing with Grace first."

"Kenny, are you attempting to dictate to me in my own house?"

"Mama, come on, you know I'm right about this. Don't be stubborn."

"Bertie, listen to the boy. We have enough to do already, without having to referee a long estrangement between those two girls."

"I'm not comfortable being told what to do in my own home."

"Bertie, I suppose we could put Grace up at the apartment in Bolling, until this gets settled, but I'd rather try it Kenny's way. I'm sure it will be resolved quickly, one way or the other."

"I'll call, Jane if you want, Mama, and explain things to her." Mama looked at me and smiled. I knew I'd said the wrong thing then. What Grace hadn't been able to talk me into, Mama had gotten me to volunteer to do. I saw a little more into how Mama's mind worked. She was doing to me the same thing Brenda had tried to do, and had failed at. I didn't resent it either. I'd gotten something just as valuable from her. We were learning to negotiate and compromise with each other. I flashed her a smile, and gave her just a tiny bow, acknowledging her victory. Mama's eyes flashed, but she thought things over, and then smiled back at me. I hugged her for a few seconds, then walked upstairs to make my call to Jane.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



-------

Chapter 12

This whole mess with Grace and Jane was fast becoming a problem for me. Dad was right. We already had enough to worry about without getting involved in their mess. I regretted telling Mama that I'd talk to Jane about Elizabeth taking Bea's room. I was now caught in the middle of their disagreement. I went upstairs and dialed Jane's number.

"Jane, it's Kenny. Mama told me you were planning to stay in Bea's old room for awhile. You can't."

"Your mom already said I could. All my stuff is packed back in my car already."

"Well, you can't. We all discussed it, and no one wants to be around you and Grace when you're fighting. Besides, Elizabeth just moved into Bea's room."

"Does Grace know you're doing this to me?"

"Grace is a guest, just like you were. I'll tell her our decision at dinner. If she doesn't like it, she can leave the same as you did."

"Let me talk to Grace. This isn't fair, Kenny."

"I'm not going to run around carrying your messages. I'm hanging up now. If you want to speak to Grace, you can call here and ask for her." I listened to her complain some more about how unfair I was being, but I wasn't about to do what she wanted me to. Finally, realizing she wasn't getting anywhere with me, she said goodbye and hung up.

An hour later, Grace came looking for me. She looked unhappy and upset.

"Are you kicking me out, Kenny?"

"I will if this fighting continues, Grace. You two were guests here, and you took advantage of us by having this kind of fight, and by trying us to get involved and to choose sides."

"I just talked to Jane, and we both apologized to each other. She wants to come back here, but she said you told her she couldn't."

"I told her she couldn't move into Bea's old room. I didn't tell her she couldn't go back to my old room. If she does though, I don't want any more of this fighting, and I want you both to quit doing things to upset Mama and Dad. You've both taken advantage of their hospitality, and I don't like that. If she does come back, and we have any more problems, you're both going to be asked to leave."

Grace thanked me, hearing only the part about Jane being allowed to come back to their room. Dinner was served a half hour later, and Grace announced, to all of us, that Jane was coming back later that evening. I noticed Mama smiling over at me, even as she was telling Grace how happy she was that she and Jane had made up again. Dad looked at both of us, and just shook his head.

"Be careful, Kenny, she'll start using you all the time to do her meddling." Dad had to turn away from the angry stare Mama was sending his way right after he said that. "Your mother suggested that you might enjoy traveling up to Omaha with us tomorrow. I need to look over some things, and she thought you should start getting familiar with the way our business operates."

"I thought you went there today?" He had told me that he was going to Omaha.

"I did, and I'll probably be going up there every day for the rest of the week. It's a one hour flight from Bolling to Omaha. We'll be home in time for dinner. There's room for you in the plane, and you might just find it interesting. Tomorrow, we'll be looking at the main building, and examining production operations at the vending plant. It was just an idea, Kenny. You needn't go with us, not if you'd rather do something else. Your mother thought it might be enjoyable for you."

"No, I'd like to go. I've never flown before, and I've never been to Nebraska. Who's going?"

"Just the four of us, unless Bunny decides to travel with us too. He did say he wanted to get up there, to have a look around, but he also mentioned he might have scheduling problems. Your mother and Grace are both going. I'm trying to decide on whether to bring along some of my own production people, but I don't know how well that might sit with the production people up in Omaha. Many of them are already skittish and on edge, due to this sudden change of ownership."

"I'll miss my golf lesson with Dave, but I'd rather do this."

"Fine then, it's settled. Is there a problem, Grace?" Grace was stirring around, looking uncomfortable in her chair. Since she was sitting across from me, I'd noticed her movement too, but I wasn't going to mention it. Dad talking to her, seemed to startle her.

"No, I just didn't know we were going back again, that's all. Did you say all this week?"

"At least. One of the most important things is for us to discover all there is to know about this new acquisition, as quickly as possible. Rob wasn't the best at allocating his resources. The sooner I find out what we have to work with, the better off we'll be."

"Is there another problem, dear?" Mama was speaking to Grace, a note of concern in her voice.

"Not a problem, not exactly. Jane and I were talking about both of us possibly asking for tomorrow off, so we could get her settled back in our room again."

I said, "Grace, this is the kind of trying to take advantage of us, that I warned Jane about earlier on the phone. You don't just get to take time off from work because you and Jane had a fight, and now want to kiss and make up. You can do that on your own time." I was still harboring some residual resentment over the way she and Jane were handling the generosity they had been shown by my parents, and by Uncle Bunny. Instead of working hard, to show their appreciation, it seemed like they were both trying to milk it for all that they could. I was still smarting from Brenda's getting me to offer her that forty dollars too. If I were to admit the truth, I was also very unhappy with Emily's refusal to listen to me when I warned her about how Brenda would be treating her in the future. If you added Elizabeth in too, I was just tired of having to deal with all these girls in general. None of them seemed to think they had any responsibility to solve their own problems, and they all wanted something, all the time.

Grace acted innocent, and said: "She asked me, Kenny. I wasn't going to ask, not if she didn't ask me first."

"Kenny, this isn't like you. I'm sure we can all manage to get by with Jane and Grace taking one day off." Mama said that quickly, wanting to avoid any possible unpleasantness at the dinner table. Dad didn't make any comment about what we were now speaking about. He sat back in his chair, watching silently as this whole thing unfolded.

I said, "Mama, I understand we could get along with them taking time off, but I feel like they're taking advantage, and that it is deliberate on their parts. I don't like it, and I want them both to know I don't. I've been telling people to take a stand against this kind of thing, but I've been sitting by doing nothing, allowing people to take advantage of you and Dad. They're taking advantage of me too." Grace stood up from the dining room table. The look she gave me was venomous. I could see the color on her cheeks and neck. I stood up myself, saying exactly what I was thinking, "You better think before you say anything to me, Grace. I'm not in any mood to get into an argument about what you think about what I just said to you. If you do decide you need to get into that with me, you're going to find yourself having to leave here, just as soon as Jane shows up."

In the past, I'd always tried to shy away from these kinds of situations. If it didn't impact on me directly, I'd try to ignore it. I was happy when Grace started walking away from me. I followed her progress, from the time she left the dining room, until she turned right at the top of the stairs, and went to her room.

"Why did you do that to Grace, Kenny? It was totally uncalled for." Mama had gotten upset.

I looked right at Mama, and said, "I did it because she's a guest here, because of me, and she's only here because of my relationship with you. You've been very nice to both of them, and, instead of being grateful, they're trying to take further advantage. Those two aren't the only ones either."

Mama replied, "I did nothing for those girls I didn't wish to do."

I looked over at my father, hoping for some support from him, saying, "Dad's right. We've got enough stuff we have to get done. I don't want to feel like I'm being used, or taken advantage of. When I do feel like that, I'm going to say something about it."

Dad picked up on my hope that he'd be supportive of me, saying, "Bertie, I am in agreement with Kenny on this. To a certain extent, both girls have been taking advantage. It's time that someone talked to them this way. If Kenny hadn't said something, I probably would have. I've seen little evidence that Grace wants to take anything positive from this summer internship. So far, she hasn't treated it as anything other than a free ride. She isn't making any effort to learn. If I had it to do over again, I'd never have made her this offer."

Mama looked surprised, unused to having to defend her opinions on two separate fronts at the same time. "Thomas, you aren't being fair to the girls either. Both of them have been out of school for less than two weeks. They are also dealing with a whole host of problems, emotional situations they shouldn't even have to concern themselves with. They have had so much to deal with, frankly I'm amazed that they've managed to cope as well as they have."

I jumped back into it, saying, "We aren't the ones who have done anything bad to either of them, Mama. All we've done is try to help them. I'm just saying they should appreciate our help, and not be constantly trying to figure out ways to exploit us for more. The more we do for them, the more they want us to do for them. I'm tired of watching it. It isn't just Grace and Jane either. It seems like all the girls I know want to take advantage of us."

Mama stopped looking for ways to defend her position. Instead, she looked at me, concern on her face, saying, "What's the real problem, Kenny? It has to be more than what you've told us about." I could see that Mama and Dad were both looking at me, then, both concerned. I knew they were worried because I wasn't usually given to these kinds of emotional outbursts.

I didn't even know where to begin, or how to explain all the things that were really troubling me. I knew that what I was experiencing was mainly frustration from my inability to make everything turn out the way I wanted it to turn out. It might not have been fair for me to take it out on Jane and Grace, because I was really complaining about the entire situation I found myself in. My troubles had started, because I found myself doing the same thing in my dealings with Brenda that I had accused Emily of doing. I didn't want to be encouraging poor behavior by rewarding it.

Jane showed up a little after eight thirty. I offered to help them both move Jane's clothes back up to their room, but Jane thanked me, and told me the two of them could manage.

We left the house the following morning at seven o'clock. I got to sit up front with the pilot, and he showed me quite a few things about flying a plane. Grace sat by herself, behind my parents. She had been quiet and subdued ever since we all left the house together. A car met us at the airport in Omaha, and took us to the main headquarters of the Lucas Company. It was a three story building, with production bakeries on the first floor, warehousing and distribution and vending storage and repair on the second floor, and administration and sales on the top floor. There were three other production plants and another large distribution center in Omaha, with three other smaller distribution centers in Lincoln, Nebraska, Kansas City, Missouri, and Des Moines, Iowa. Dad had already decided to sell off the Iowa and Kansas City centers, since our other company already had bigger distribution facilities operating in those two cities.

Dad spent several hours talking with the sales staff. They were having a big meeting, with Dad taking this time to have a chance to meet all of them. He told me before the meeting that he wanted to find out what he was going to have to work with, as far as the sales staff was concerned. While he was in his meeting, Mama, Grace and I were given a grand tour of the first and second floors. One of the ways that the Lucas Company was different from our other company was in selling a lot of their products through vending machines. They owned a lot of these vending machines, and most of their sales force worked exclusively in this one part of their business. Dad wanted to change this if it was practical to do so, but he didn't know enough about it yet to know whether it was practical. He had gotten all of the company salesman together to talk with them, hoping to find out if it was.

We were watching a man fixing one of the vending machines when I had the idea about putting one in our apartment at the Academy. Jerry would love having all those cookies and snacks close at hand. Then, I remembered that Jerry didn't have any money. I asked the man fixing the machine some questions, about how the machines worked, and how long the cookies and chips stayed fresh. He said all their products stayed good for six weeks or longer, and some of them had a shelf life of six months or more. He described the different preservatives used for vending machine products, to keep them fresher for a longer period. Dad's meeting took more than three hours. Mama and I both enjoyed looking at everything, but Grace was just sullenly going through the motions, clearly uninterested in any of what we were seeing.

I turned to look at grace, saying, "Grace, do you wish you'd stayed with taking that driving job over at the construction site?" I don't know why I decided to ask her that. I was annoyed with her, and that was the first thing that came into my mind. I really expected her to take it like I'd meant it, as chastisement, and a little bit of a threat, or a warning. Instead, her eyes lit up and she immediately told me she would much rather do that. Even Mama seemed pleased that I'd brought it up. She had been noticing Grace's lack of interest too. I said, "Mama, is there still time to get Grace a driving job for the catering deliveries? I don't think she is enjoying this, and I doubt she's learning anything either. I'd like to take her place working with Dad."

I could tell this was something that pleased Mama, me wanting to work with Dad, but all she said was, "You'd have to ask your father, Kenny, but I'm sure he'd agree, as long as Grace didn't mind switching over to driving."

The rest of our time went by pretty quickly. I was impressed that the people who worked on the production floor were all so proud of what they were making. We sampled seven or eight different kinds of rolls and cookies. My favorite was a chocolate cake with vanilla icing wrapped in it. It was made flat, then a machine put on the icing on the front and rolled it. It was one of the best selling vending machine products. The lady in charge of the rolling machine told me she'd personally eaten some of these rolls more than a year after they were made, and they were still just as tasty as when they came off the production line. She said she made, and packaged, over three thousand rolls a day on her shift. Everyone seemed to know who we were too. I guess the word had spread all over the building. Mama spoke with several of the older ladies, telling them who her father had been, and her family's involvement in commercial baking for over forty years. I listened to Mama, quickly realizing why she was talking to these older women. She was letting them know it wasn't some impersonal corporation that had bought out Mr. Lucas, it was just another baking family. After talking to Mama, I noticed the women were more relaxed, and able to smile at us without it looking so forced.

Up on the third floor, I met Mr. Lucas, and his daughter. He had agreed to stay on for sixty days to make the transition easier. He was pretty old, older than Dad by at least ten or fifteen years, but his daughter, Virginia, looked like she was less than thirty. She had blue eyes and dark brown hair. She had been the head of the accounting department for the company, and I knew Dad liked her, but not her husband. Dad had already gotten some professional pension plan managers to take over pension allocations and distributions, and he was using the same investment adviser for the Lucas pension plan as he used for our company. Virginia's husband had effectively been fired as the pension plan manager.

I liked Mr. Lucas. He liked to laugh a lot, and all the people around him seemed to like him too. I said something to Virginia about how her father looked pretty happy for a guy who was working. She looked at me, and I saw her eyes start to tear up.

"He loves this place. I don't know what he's going to do with himself now. We got too successful for his managing style. He simply outgrew his ability to manage things. He had a hard time telling people no, whenever they wanted to try something new."

We left Omaha at about five thirty. Again, I sat up front with our pilot. Mama and Dad were talking, and then Dad turned around and asked Grace some questions. They talked for about five minutes. When Dad turned around again, I left the front, and came back to the regular passenger area.

"Well, Kenny, what did you think?" My Dad was smiling at me when he asked me that. I knew my Mother must have already told him that I wanted to take Grace's place.

I told him, "It was great. They sure make a lot of good things to snack on. If I had one of those vending machines in "Joke Hall", I'd make a lot of money. What's Mr. Lucas going to do now that you bought his company?"

"I'm sure we can arrange to put a machine in at the Academy, Kenny, if you can get the school administration to approve it. I'm not sure what Rob's plans are. I assumed he'd simply retire and take it easy. I guess these last few years have been pretty hard on him. He's a widower, and, from what I gathered, Virginia is his only child. Maybe he'll do some traveling."

"Virginia says the company outgrew his managing style, and it was too big for him to manage everything."

"That could be. I think Rob was more of a sales guy than a real production man. I was impressed with the majority of the sales team he put together. For their size, they do quite well, but their best people don't have the territory they'd need to get maximum return for their expended effort. The others rely mostly on routes that Rob, and three others, have opened and developed. They are more service people than salesmen. Do you have any other opinions about what you saw today?"

"I liked Virginia, and I also liked the way the people who make the snacks, take pride in what they're doing. Mr. Lucas must have been a good boss too, because everybody seems to like him. I think it is very inefficient to use three elevators for the storing, distribution, and loading. Why did they put the warehouse on the second floor? They cart it all up in an elevator, then they pull orders and send it back down in the other two elevators, to the loading docks. All the vending machines and the repair facilities for them, are on the elevator side too. Shouldn't they be on the back side, so the products can be stored and separated by the elevators?"

Dad's voice had excitement in it when he said, "I'm glad you noticed about the elevators, Kenny. That jumped right out at me too. When I asked Rob some of the same questions you asked me, he told me that the FDA inspectors wouldn't allow the ovens to be upstairs. He told me it was for ventilation and fire reasons."

"Isn't everything they make there for the vending machines anyway?" I hadn't seen anything that looked like regular, grocery store baking goods.

"That's right. All of the vending route product is made there. They have product needs that have already surpassed the capacity of their existing ovens though, and Rob didn't have the capital to open a second production facility for vending products. Do you have any ideas or suggestions?"

I thought about what he'd said. I could tell he already had some good ideas, and that he was just trying to test me to see if I could see what was obvious to him. I knew I should be careful, making sure I answered the question he wanted me to answer.

I asked him, "What's the bigger problem to you, the not having the production capacity, or the inefficient distribution?"

Dad hesitated, smiling, before framing his reply, "They both need to be addressed and corrected. Can you see any practical way of doing that?"

I was a little disappointed he hadn't given me any hints about what he was most interested in, but I said, "I'm not sure if this is practical or not, but I'd think about moving all of the vending machines and the maintenance mechanics out of that building. I think almost any space would work for storing and fixing those machines. I'd move all of the wrapping and packaging upstairs. Those big trays they slide the pans onto from the ovens have rollers, and they would fit in the elevators too. The wrapping and packaging machines takes up more than twice the amount of the oven space. All of the packaging materials are stored down there too. You could double the number of ovens downstairs, and bring the finished orders down and store them by the doors leading to the loading dock. They would probably fit in just the amount of space the packaging materials take up now."

Again, Dad paused, thinking about what I'd said. After a minute, he said, "Bake downstairs, but wrap and package upstairs? It might work, but there would definitely be inspection problems. We would need to retrofit the second floor to meet health and safety standards. The people who do the baking, they also do all the packaging now. They take pride in completing the entire process themselves. For another thing, there would still remain the necessity for dealing with the problems created by the inefficiency of using those elevators to move the products back and forth."

Satisfied that I had the clues I needed from him, I said, "Wouldn't they take greater pride in being able to produce more product? The ladies Mama talked with, they all told us how many rolls or cookies they baked in a day. I don't think they bragged even once about their packaging skills. The machines really do all of that for them. They just watch to make sure the machines haven't broken down. You could talk to them, but I think they'd be happier upping their production totals. How hard would it be to change those freight elevators over to some kind of automatic conveyor system, like the one they use at the airport?"

Dad smiled and turned back to Mama, saying, "Did you hear that Bertie? Didn't I tell you automated conveying system?" Then, turning back to me, he said, "Not belts though Kenny. We have a conveyor system in place at our main plant that I helped design. It cools the products down, as well as transporting them. It starts right outside the ovens, and you use it instead of the cooling racks. One system can tie into many ovens, and we can leave all those racks upstairs, saving even more space. You can feed out the finished packaged product along the return line for storage downstairs."

I asked him, "Are you going to do that?"

Dad told me what he already had planned and some of what he'd done, saying, "I've already made arrangements to lease a building for the vending machines and maintenance facility. When that space is freed up, we'll retrofit for health standards, and then move all of the packaging functions upstairs. We'll add new ovens, new to us, at least, and, at the same time, install the new automated conveyors. In three months, our capacity will be more than tripled because we will also have room for more packaging machines, something that was a problem before, and we can run a second shift, once production and sales are caught up with all the changes. We're going to start placing vending machines in territories serviced by our existing distribution centers."

I felt good that I'd already thought of a lot of that. there was one other thing I wanted to suggest to him, "You should see if Mr. Lucas wants to handle that part of it for you, Dad. Virginia said he did best at the sales part of the business. Maybe he'd enjoy doing that part again."

Dad shook his head, obviously disagreeing with me, saying, "I doubt he'd do it, Kenny. It would be like a demotion for him. This was always his company before. I couldn't do it if I were him."

Now it was my turn to disagree with Dad. He always thought other people were the same way he was, and they weren't. I said, "That's because you like managing everything. Maybe he didn't like having all those things to worry about. If he did decide he wanted to do it, he would probably be your best bet for the sales team. He knows all of them anyway. You told me it was the sales people that made a company successful."

Dad thought about what I'd said, shaking his head and smiling, before telling me, "I'll certainly feel him out to see if he'd be interested. Was there anything else?"

I told him, "Only Virginia. I think she's worried about her job too, because of her husband being fired."

Dad indicated his problem with that by saying, "The accounting department will need to be integrated with our current system. The system in place there now just isn't functioning the way we'd need it to be. I like Virginia, but I have no way, not presently, at least, of knowing whether or not she is competent. I'm not sure how many of the problems in the accounting department were Virginia's fault. I'd need to bring some of our own people up, to assess the problems, and to see if they can work with her or not."

I gave him my main reason for hoping Mr. Lucas and Virginia could stay working at the company, "If the workers at the company saw that Mr. Lucas and Virginia were both staying, it might make them feel better about being taken over. They all seem to like Virginia, and Mr. Lucas too."

Dad replied, "Your mother has shared similar feelings with me concerning this continuity issue. I know we're going to be making substantial changes in the way the company operates. I'm not sure that the old management would be able to accept or appreciate our different style of managing."

I told him, "I got the feeling that Mr. Lucas was pretty happy to be out from under the day to day strain of keeping his employees working. If he sees you making changes that increase production and sales, I think he'll be pleased, because that would mean his company would be surviving. I think he was mostly afraid that it would fail, and people would lose their jobs."

Dad was shaking his head, indicating I was wrong. Then he said, "Any worries he might have had on that score, should have ended when we purchased the company. We certainly didn't buy it to dismantle it for the liquidation value."

I added, "I'd still tell him about your new plans for expansion, and then ask him if he wanted to head up the new marketing team for the vending machines. Even if he doesn't want to stay and help, he probably has some tips and advice that would help you. Maybe he knows someone else who would do a good job."

Dad smiled again, saying, "I'm liking your thought processes, Kenny. You attack business problems by looking for solutions. Too many people just attack the problems. Believe me, there is far more money to be made in solutions. I'll be returning to Omaha tomorrow, Kenny, and staying up there until the weekend. You're welcome to come up with me, or to stay at home with your mother."

I asked, "Where would we stay?"

Dad said, "We have a suite of rooms at the Sheraton Omaha. A carryover perk which demonstrates Rob's overindulgence of his sales force. It comes in handy for us right now, but it isn't something I'm likely to want to renew. We'll only spend two nights there, but we may need to make several longer stays during the conversion of the production line. There are four separate bedrooms in the suite, and we'll need all of them when we ferry our people back and forth to monitor the installations. I want those changes made as soon as possible. I want to encounter no shortages of product when we're in the process of expanding those vending routes."

We got home after seven thirty, and I got on the phone immediately, to give Brenda a call. We only spoke for fifteen minutes, and our conversation consisted mostly of me explaining why I wasn't at home to take her out to the club. When I told her I'd volunteered to work with my Dad for the summer, she expressed great disappointment. I told her we'd be in Omaha until late Friday, and that upset her even more. When she said we'd have the weekends, I told her I was looking forward to it. She talked about the swimming pool and tennis, and I told her I wanted to play golf at least one day. Her answer was to tell me that I was being selfish, because the things she wanted to do, we could both do together.

After I got off the phone, I was mad at myself for not sticking with my plan about not doing anything to encourage Brenda to be as selfish as she was. I didn't say anything to her, and, as a result of that, I felt bad. I hadn't had any problem with speaking to Jane, Grace, Elizabeth and Emily, but I was shying away from confronting Brenda. I had planned on calling Emily too, but, after speaking with Brenda, I decided not to. I was already feeling bad enough about getting after her about something I was guilty of doing myself. The worst part of it was, I was certain I was right in what I told Emily.

Letting Brenda get away with acting spoiled and selfish wasn't going to help our relationship, and it would encourage her to continue doing so in the future. I went downstairs, looking for Mama. I found her in the kitchen with Gerta, eating a turkey sandwich that Gerta had made for her. I asked Gerta if she had anything I might enjoy, and she asked me if I'd like a nice hot roast beef sandwich. Five minutes later, I was smiling as she set it down in front of me. I sat there, eating, and trying to think of the best way to bring up my problem with Mama... 

"Brenda isn't too happy that I want to work with Dad this summer. She was hoping I'd be spending a lot more of my time out at the club with her."

"You don't have to work everyday with him, Kenny. I'm sure most of his days aren't so exciting. I think this is a wonderful opportunity for you to learn. You have so much natural potential, and, with your father, you'd be learning from one of the best. When it comes to business, he's a real marvel."

"Did you love him because he was so good in business?"

"Hardly. I was young, and more interested in looks than in anything else. Bunny brought him home his first trip back from his freshman year at the university. I was out in the back yard, hitting balls, of course, certainly not dressed for receiving company. Do you remember Jane's reaction after first seeing Brenda? I was worse when I first saw Thomas. I'm sure I didn't speak three words to him, that entire first visit. Bunny had brought him home to meet Daddy. I couldn't wait for him to leave again, so I could breathe. When I was around him, it felt like an elephant was standing on my chest. He knew how I was reacting to him too, which only made it worse for me."

"Brenda takes my breath away too, but I don't really like her, except when she's close to me. I want to like her, but the way she acts, it makes liking her difficult. Even though I feel this way, I still think I love her. That's something that really bothers me. How can you love someone if you don't even like them?"

"Kenny, I don't know the answer to that question. I do know you can though. I felt that way about Thomas. There are times when I still feel that way. In a relationship, it is better that like and love go hand in hand. When that isn't possible, loving without the liking, is always the worst combination of the two. There are usually good reasons for not liking someone, while loving someone is sometimes accomplished without any intelligent reason."

"Why is it important to you that Brenda is my girlfriend? I've never understood why you want us together."

"Too difficult a question for the simple answer you might be hoping for. Brenda is really an exceptional girl. She has looks, vitality, ambition and presence. She would be a real asset when it comes to entertaining business associates. There is also the question of our family ties with Georgia, and her family. Not so much Walt, but certainly Georgia, Brenda and Richard."

"I'm trying to get along with her. Making love with her helps me with that. I don't like the way she thinks though, or the way she treats people to get what she wants. She treats me better than she does her other friends, but that's only because she's wanting to marry someone rich. If she had seen me at the orphanage, she wouldn't have looked at me at all. It isn't me that she likes."

"Perhaps it wasn't you that first attracted her. I'm sure this is no longer true. I can't believe Brenda would give herself to you without her being seriously attracted to you first."

"She did it first with Darryl Kingsley. She didn't even like him. She did it to get back at me, because I wanted to wait for her to change before we did it."

"If she didn't care for you, she would never have gone to that extreme in order to punish you."

"Mama, talking to you about this, it just gets me more upset. If I keep talking to you about her, it's only going to get worse."

"Tell me what changes you want her to make, Kenny. I'll have a word with her, and with Georgia. In the past, we've talked about making changes. If I understood where she was lacking, I could help her to see it as well."

"Brenda only cares about Brenda. Period. That's it. Nobody is important, except her. She only uses people to get what she wants. She is ruthless, and will do anything to get what she is after. Can you help her change those things?"

"You think she is too focused, and too intent on achieving her goals? This is what you wish her to change?"

"Mama, you admire the very qualities in her that I find so upsetting. You see them as strengths, while I see them as character flaws. Next, you'll be after me to change so that I see those things the same way you do."

"No, Kenny, I don't want you to change. I just want you to be able to differentiate virtues from flaws. I know Brenda isn't the most selfless of people, but that works to her advantage, and to ours. Used on us, her ruthlessness, as you choose to characterize it, would be unfortunate. Used against others, it could be a definite advantage. Brenda has a killer instinct, something I never possessed. You don't have it either. There are occasions when being able to turn Brenda loose on a problem, or on a situation, would work to your advantage. Hard decisions often require hard people. My father was one such person, and Brenda and Richard are his only grandchildren."

"Uncle Bunny is Richard and Brenda's father?"

"No, Georgia is my half sister, mine and Bunny's. My father made Georgia's mother pregnant. It was after my mother learned of this that she drowned herself."

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



Author's note: I tend not to make small inclusions to denote who is speaking. (Things like he said, she replied, etc.) At my editor's urging, I added some of those in this chapter, and left some out too. Let me know if you have a strong preference for one way or another. JLH





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Chapter 13


"No, Georgia is my half sister, mine and Bunny's. My father made Georgia's mother pregnant. It was after my mother learned of this that she drowned herself."

When Mama told me this, I couldn't have been more shocked. I had a lot of questions, but I didn't really know how to ask any of them. Mama had told me she was fourteen years old when her mother died. Mrs. Connor was only a year or two younger than Mama and Uncle Bunny. Mama said she felt guilty about her mother's death, and Uncle Bunny had told me she blamed herself for her mother dying. Mama had also said that no one knew if the drowning had been accidental, or a suicide. From what she had told me before, none of what she was now saying made any sense to me.

I needed to learn more, so I said, "Mama, how do you know it was a suicide? That isn't what you said before."

Mama hesitated, searching for the right words, before saying, "I know what I said before, Kenny. You asked me for a reason why I wanted the two of you together, and that's what I just gave you. They were in the library, Georgia and her father, talking to Mother. I was coming down the stairs from my room, when I heard both of the adults screaming at each other. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw Georgia come running out of the room. She was very upset, not even watching where she was going. I remember that Georgia's mother had died, perhaps a month before this time. I assumed this was what had her so upset. She kept going, running outside, and leaving the front door wide open. It was only another minute before Mr. Kendall, Georgia's father came storming out. He saw me, but he just rushed by me, heading out the front door. He left the same way Georgia had done earlier, neither of them bothering to close the door behind them. I continued on, into the library, and saw my mother sitting in Daddy's chair, softly crying into a handkerchief. She kept repeating the same words. 'That horrible man, I'll never forgive him.' I was sure then that she meant Mr. Kendall, and I wondered what he'd said or done to her to make her so upset."

I said, "Maybe that's what she did mean. If you didn't ask her, how can you know?"

Mama looked like she was trying to decide something. She said, "I thought it was Mr. Kendall for a long time. I was sure it was over something that Bunny and Georgia had done while playing, something that Mr. Kendall had brought Georgia along to confess to my mother. Even then, Bunny and Georgia were playing kissing games. It was early the next day that my mother had her 'accident', and, in all the chaos and confusion caused by her death, I didn't tell anyone about Georgia and Mr. Kendall's visit. It was several years before I even remembered it again. My father and I were having dinner, and he started talking about my mother. When he was done speaking, I told him about seeing my mother crying in the library, the day before she drowned. I told Daddy everything I remembered, and, when I was done with telling everything to him, he got very quiet. Daddy was a very intense man, his quiet anger could be every bit as frightening as another man's wildest tantrums."

Nothing she'd said had convinced me that Mrs. Connor was her half sister. I said, "I still don't see how you're so sure about Mrs. Connor being your sister."

"Daddy always used to get so angry with Bunny, just because he kept company with Georgia. He couldn't understand Bunny wanting to be near her, even after she dropped him for Walt. After that day at the dinner table, Daddy never spoke to Mr. Kendall again. Years later, when he had a chance to do so, he went to considerable lengths to make sure that Mr. Kendall lost everything, when he got himself overextended in some of his business dealings. Later, right before Thomas and I were married, he demanded Bunny have a vasectomy performed at the same time Thomas got his. He was always against Bunny and Georgia being together. He never said why, because I heard Bunny ask him many times."

I said, "He probably felt like that more for Uncle Bunny's sake than for Mrs. Connor's. If he didn't like her, he wouldn't want Uncle Bunny making her pregnant."

"I believed that as well. Daddy was never comfortable around Georgia. In fact, that was the reason I believed for his actions, until Georgia herself told me what had been said in that library so many years before. This was only a few months ago that she told me, Kenny, and she was so drunk, she would have been incapable of making up such a story. I simply had to believe her. We had been discussing Brenda's future, and Georgia was attempting to get me to intercede with you, on Brenda's behalf. We were dining at the club, although Georgia was drinking far more than she was eating. It was only after I refused to press you to give Brenda another chance, that she disclosed the truth to me. Mr. Kendall had come over to accuse my father of fathering Georgia. When Daddy wasn't there, he told my mother instead. Georgia had known about this, for all those years, and she had never told anyone, not even Bunny."

I told her what I thought was obvious, saying, "She might just be lying. I wouldn't put it past her."

Mama sat up straighter, bristling a little at hearing me say that. She said, "She might have been, except for one important thing. It's something I located myself, while searching for any evidence of a likeness between Georgia, Bunny and me. Stay here, Kenny, I need to get something to show you." Mama got up and left the kitchen. While she was gone, I finished my sandwich and the glass of milk Gerta had gotten for me. Gerta put a big slice of chocolate cake in front of me, taking my empty milk glass so she could refill it. I was almost done with the cake when Mama came back with one of the big picture albums she kept in the library. I could see that it was one of the older ones. "Kenny, this is a picture of Daddy, when he was around ten years old."

I looked at the picture. It was a faded black and white picture that showed a blond boy standing on a dock, next to a large white boat. To me, he looked like any other young boy, nothing remarkable that I could see to set him apart. I could see a slight resemblance to Uncle Bunny, but nothing else. He didn't look much like Mama or Mrs. Connor. I didn't see any close resemblance between Mama and Uncle Bunny, or with either of them, and Mrs. Connor. Mama, turned the page of the album, and there was a long lock of hair, stored in a semi clear, Glassine envelope. It was copper colored, almost the exact same shade as Brenda's. Beneath the hair, in a neat cursive script, was writing. 'Ronald Chalmers, age ten.' I didn't know who Ronald Chalmers was. Mama's father's name was Senior Chalmers. I looked over at her for further explanation of what she was showing me.

"That's Daddy's hair, when he was ten years old. Do you see how close it is to Brenda's hair color? I had forgotten that, partly because Daddy always kept his hair cut so short, and because he lost his hair at a fairly young age. When I was young, it was more of a fringe than a real head of hair."

"It still doesn't prove what Mrs. Connor claims." I had no real reason for doubting any of this, but, there was something about all of it that just seemed too self serving to me. I wasn't a big believer in coincidental happenings. Circumstantially, it seemed like a lot of the available facts fit Mrs. Connor's claim, especially the things Mama had just told me about her seeing her mother and Mr. Kendall yelling at each other in the library. Mrs. Connor had been right there though, and she knew she was the only one left alive who had heard what really was said. She knew the same sequence of events that Mama did, about what had occurred after that meeting in the library. Most importantly, she knew that Mama didn't know what happened in there.

Mama thought I was just being difficult, and she told me, "No, it doesn't prove it. There isn't any way of proving it. Look at this, Kenny." Mama put the two pinkie fingers on her hands together, side by side, holding them up for me to see. The first digit on each finger bent inward, creating a "Y" effect at the top. I'd never noticed that before. I put mine together, and they were straight, right up to the tips. "Georgia's fingers are the same shape as Bunny's and mine, I made her show them to me. Daddy's were like ours too."

"What about her and Uncle Bunny then? I mean, if she's his sister, isn't that incest?"

"I suppose it is, Kenny, but, Bunny didn't know, and he isn't going to be producing any children with Georgia anyway. I'm not sure that it matters in this case. It certainly has never seemed to trouble Georgia in any way. I'm sure it wouldn't trouble Bunny either, even if he did know. We were speaking about Brenda though, and specifically, about why I wanted you to reconcile with her. I hope what I've told you tonight has answered your question?"

I nodded to her that it had. Still, there were other questions remaining. I said to her, "Dad told me the reason why it mattered so much to you was because Uncle Bunny loved Brenda so much. He said she was like his daughter. Dad said you wanted Brenda to finally be a part of Uncle Bunny's family. If Mrs. Connor is telling the truth, Brenda already is part of his family."

"Be that as it may, I've given you my reasons. Now, tell me the changes you wanted Brenda to make again. Leave out her current obsession with money, as it's of no consequence."

"It's of no consequence to you maybe. I could learn to live with that part I guess, if that was everything. It would be all right, if she weren't so selfish, and only interested in herself. I don't think you can get her to really change though. The most you could expect, would be for her to start pretending to be different."

"Would her pretending be enough for now?" Mama asked me this in a way that made it clear she thought it should be.

"Enough for what?" I couldn't even believe it had been a serious question.

"Enough for you to continue seeing her. Brenda will eventually change, especially if she understands the effect her selfishness has on you. It won't be immediate, but she'll change. Georgia and I are both convinced that she really does love you. She hasn't had sufficient reason to change before now."

"I'm going to try to do things besides hanging around with Brenda. I mean things like work with Dad, play golf, and anything else I feel like doing. She needs to accept that I'm not going to plan my life around doing what she wants me to do. She can be my girlfriend, but not for every single minute I'm awake. I'd like it more like the way you do it with Dad. More separate than she wants now."

"You can't hold up our way of doing things, as an example for a successful relationship, Kenny. It isn't what most couples would strive for. It isn't what I would have preferred. It is simply the most your father was willing to give to me."

"I'm talking about the fact that you both have different interests you can pursue separately. You do things together, but you also spend a lot of time doing separate things. That's what I want, and I need Brenda to be accepting of that, not using the time we are together to constantly be complaining about what I'm not doing with her. That's the most I'm willing to give to Brenda, as long as she's like she is now."

"She'll see this as you not valuing her enough, Kenny. She'll be hurt by it, and might decide to act out again, to teach you another lesson. I'm sure that isn't what you want."

"Mama, you asked me what I wanted different about Brenda. I've told you. She doesn't have to change, but the more she does, the better I'll treat her, and the more I'll want to be with her. There has to be a way I can express my approval or disapproval. A way that Brenda won't be able to ignore. I need to be able to start liking her again, too."

"I agree that you should be spending time with your father. There are too few opportunities like this one, for you to let it pass through your fingers, without taking full advantage. Brenda does need to understand how important this could be to both your futures. Promise me though, that you'll try to make time for her to be an important part of your life. I need to know this isn't some elaborate deception on your part, designed to get me to assist you in getting rid of Brenda."

"Mama, I promise. No one hopes Brenda and I can find a way to get along more than I do. I hope she's here on Friday when I get back from Omaha. I'd like nothing better than having the two of us spending some time together on the weekend. I just don't want to spend time, time when we could be enjoying ourselves, explaining to Brenda why I don't decide everything by first figuring out what it is she'd like me to be doing."

"You're asking for a lot, Kenny. An older, more mature woman, could, possibly, be able to accept being less than the most important part of a man's life. It is doubtful that Brenda would, or if she could. I'm not sure her mother, or I, will be able to convince her to accept that."

"Well, I'm confident you can, if you really give it your best effort. Tell Brenda that you've done it, and then tell her about how much money Dad has made for you and Uncle Bunny over the years. Tell her he's going to teach me how to do that too. Tell her it will leave her plenty of time and money to go shopping, after we're married."

Mama smiled in appreciation. She knew from what I said, I was agreeing to play the part she had picked out for me. Both of us were aware of what each expected from the other. If I could negotiate with Brenda like I was now able to do with Mama, my life would soon get much simpler.

Money and marriage, shopping and spending, those were some of Brenda's hot buttons. I was confident that I could satisfy her physical needs and urges. If Mama couldn't convince Brenda she was putting all of that at risk, by not accepting what I was offering her, no one could. I was satisfied too, that I'd negotiated the best deal with Mama that I could, given her belief that Brenda was her niece. I would rather have Mama as an ally, not an adversary. This would only be possible if I could get her to understand that I wanted a successful relationship with Brenda, even if it wasn't something I wanted without certain conditions attached.

After my long conversation with Mama, I went up to my room, feeling much better about my situation with Brenda. I accepted the fact that she and I were tied closer together now, a lot closer than we had been before the talk I'd just finished with Mama. I was looking forward to getting out of town with Dad, and to being away from the house as well. I would miss playing as much golf as I had been, but, I was now able to appreciate why Dad would prefer to closet himself away from things by taking refuge in his study. I knew Mama let him do that because Dad produced something she desired even more than his presence, money. What could I offer to Brenda, to motivate her into not minding about the time I was spending away from her? I didn't know what, but I felt confident that I'd come up with something.



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Chapter 14

We flew up to Omaha early the next morning. Mama had gotten up early too, to see us off, and she made it a point to tell me that she was having Brenda and Mrs. Connor come over for lunch later that day. I guess she wanted me to know that she was already working on taking care of what I had asked her to do, as far as changing Brenda's behavior. We got into the office up in Omaha right before nine o'clock. Dad told me that he had a full morning of meetings with production people, and he told me I could choose either to sit in on them, or to move around anywhere in the building, familiarizing myself with anything I chose. I told him I'd like to walk around looking at everything again. He told me I had probably made a good choice, and then advised me to take some kind of pad and pencil to write down my impressions, or any ideas or questions I might want to discuss with him, over lunch. I agreed to meet him back at Rob's old office at one o'clock.

I started on the first floor, partly because it smelled good, and I was getting a little hungry, and partly because I thought I'd start on the first floor and work myself up to the third floor by lunchtime. I got a memo pad and a ball point pen from Virginia, before I left. I moved around the ovens, and the people tending them, watching as baked rolls came out and were lifted onto the rolling racks to be taken over to the packaging area, for cooling and later wrapping.

I started talking to a huge black man named Milton. He had to weigh three hundred and fifty pounds, at least. His job was to take empty trays and racks out by the loading dock, and then put them in a power washing room for spray cleaning. Six of the racks, each with fifteen trays, fit in the room, and then he closed the door and pressed this big red button. He told me the approximate degrees of the water temperature they had to use, and it was really hot. When he went in later, to bring them out, after they were washed, he needed to use gloves because the metal was so hot when he went to roll everything back out. I asked Milton how he liked his job.

"It's a job, that's all. A man has to do something."

"What would you rather be doing, if you could pick your job?"

"That's easy. I applied here for a delivery driving job, six years ago. This is the onliest job they had open at the time. There haven't been any new openings, and I'm still third down on the list. Damn drivers got it too cushy to quit, and Mr. Rob, he don't never fire anyone."

"My Dad is going to triple the output here, when he gets some changes made, and puts in more ovens. We're going to need new drivers. I bet you're going to get one of the new routes."

"Too late for me now, boy. My license done got messed up by some tickets, and I'm too big and slow now to do the job. Too much getting in and out, and running around, making those deliveries."

I was confused by his answer. Maybe he hadn't heard, or understood, my original question. I decided to reword it, and ask him again.

"What other job, that you could do, would you rather have?"

"Why you keep asking me that same question? You be wanting my job? Go get your Daddy to give you another job, 'cause this one's already spoken for, it's mine."

"I can't take your job even if I wanted to. I live in Kansas."

"That so? Why ain't you back there in Kansas, bothering somebody else besides me? I got my own work to do, and I can't be wasting time jawboning with you no more." Milton closed the door on his second load of carts and trays and pushed the big red button to start the cleaning cycle. I walked away from him, feeling bad about making him mad at me. I decided to head up to the second floor to see the vending machine mechanics working. When I got there, all three of them were in the break room, smoking and drinking coffee. It didn't seem right to be bothering them when they were on their break, so I walked up to the third floor. I looked at my watch, and it was just after ten o'clock. Three more hours to go before lunchtime with Dad. I hadn't learned anything that he and I could talk about, and I had really wanted to learn something so that he would see I was better at being his intern than Grace had been.

"You back already, Kenny?" It was Virginia who said that to me. She was standing over by the copier, talking to her father, when she noticed me coming up the stairs.

"The people were all busy working, and I didn't want to get in their way, or disturb them. I told my Dad I'd meet him at one for lunch, but I thought there would be something here I could do to keep me busy until then." Mr. Lucas laughed, and spoke to me.

"I'm going across the river to Council Bluffs, you want to ride with me? We'll be back before one." I nodded my acceptance. It was a heck of a lot better than sitting around doing nothing for three hours. We went downstairs to his car, which turned out to be a green Dodge pick up truck. In the back, there were three big boxes of vending machine snack products. It didn't take us very long to get where we were going. On the drive, Mr. Lucas made small talk, staying away from saying anything about his business.

We just drove across the bridge and were in Council Bluffs. Mr. Lucas went inside three different businesses, each time taking a full box of vending snacks. I went with him and watched, as he filled up each machine with new product, and then emptied out the coin tray into a small white canvas sack. He put the coins in with the unused product and we left. We were at each location for fifteen minutes or so. At the second place, a heavy woman came up to Mr. Lucas and complained about putting her money in and not getting a snack. Mr. Lucas asked her what she had been ordering at the time, and offered her a choice between a refund, or two of the strawberry coconut rolls she had tried to buy before. She took the rolls, and left, looking happy.

After we were finished with the third location, Mr. Lucas offered to buy me a Coke from the drink machine next to the one he had just finished filling. We both sat down, and I asked him if he delivered like that all the time. He laughed, and told me old habits die hard. He said it kept him informed about what was selling, and whether the machines were performing well. He told me he didn't have a regular route, but picked three machines each day, from different sales routes, to do a check on how things were going. Virginia would check the product it took to fill each machine, against the money collected. It was sort of an informal audit, to keep the route people honest, and to check on any problems at the locations. The same thing was being done daily, by three other salesmen who had been with Mr. Lucas for a long time. He said it was just insurance. I made a note of it on my memo pad.

"So, did your father tell you his plans for the company?" Mr. Lucas said it casually, but I could tell he was trying to pump me for information. The smartest thing for me to do would be to just answer no to his question. My father liked keeping his own counsel about business plans. The thing was, I liked Mr. Lucas and Virginia, and I didn't think they were looking to take advantage of my father. I was also pretty sure that my father was going to be telling Mr. Lucas his plans pretty soon anyway. Dad hadn't told me not to discuss things with Mr. Lucas. I didn't see any harm in it. I didn't have any specific information anyway.

"He says he's going to triple the vending machine products made, and put machines in all our existing distribution territories."

"Is he thinking of moving the plant then?"

"No, he is going to move out the vending machines, and the machine repair people to a different building, and put all the packaging and order sorting on the second floor. He says he needs more room for the new ovens downstairs."

"That's going to cost him a bundle. Does he already have a market for this increased new output?"

"I think he wants you to head up the sales and marketing operation for him, but he thinks you won't want to do it. He thinks you would feel like it's a demotion."

"Why would he want me?"

"You know all the current sales people, Virginia says you're strong in sales, and everyone knows you here at the company. My mother and I both think the employees would feel better about their future, if you and Virginia stayed involved with the company."

"Your father doesn't think that too?"

"I don't know what he thinks. What he said was it would be hard for him to go back to sales after running the whole company. He thinks everyone likes being in charge of everything." Mr. Lucas laughed.

"Maybe you shouldn't be telling me all of this. Aren't you afraid it will undermine your father's bargaining position with me?"

I thought about what he had said. It sounded like something my father would worry about. I had to answer him though. "I'm not worried about that. Mama and I both think you're happy having sold out to us. We think you care about your employees, and want what's best for them. I figured if you knew what Dad was worried about, and you did want the sales job, you'd find a way to let him know you were interested. If you didn't want it, you could just tell him no, if he asks."

"You mentioned Virginia staying involved with the company. Has that been decided upon?"

"Not yet. Dad says he has to bring up some of his own accounting people to find out about putting in a different system first. He said there is something wrong with the system you used, and he doesn't know if it was Virginia's fault or not."

"It wasn't her fault, it was mine, for not listening to her when she brought the problems to me. I was more concerned with other things. We would have all been better off if I'd just listened to her, instead of relying on people who didn't know what they were doing. People like my idiot son in law. If I did decide to stay on, to head up sales and marketing, it would only be because Virginia was kept on too."

"Do you want me to tell my father that?"

"I'd have to have some say in how the marketing strategy was decided on. I'm too set in my ways to try to fit in with someone else's idea of how to get the job done."

"My dad's a numbers guy. If you two could agree on sales projections and you met your quotas, he wouldn't care much how you did it. He likes aggressive growth though, and so do my mother, and Uncle Bunny."

"How many owners are there?"

"Just those three. I think I might own ten per cent, but I'm not sure how that works."

"Ten per cent of Lucas Company?"

"Ten per cent of all of it, I think. Don't worry though, Dad has voting control of all the stock for ten more years. He's the only one whose opinion counts."

"I'm very interested in the marketing job, as long as Virginia stays on here too."

"Does she have to stay on as head of accounting? My Dad likes her, he just isn't able to tell yet how she is at accounting. Does she just want to stay in accounting?"

"No, she wanted to run the whole company, and I should have let her."

"Dad always has people who head the different divisions. Do you think Virginia is qualified to head up the company?"

"There isn't anything going on in this company that she doesn't know about, or anything she isn't qualified to do. She has an MBA, from the University of Chicago's Graduate School of Business."

"Dad doesn't like excuses for not reaching what he sets up as goals. He won't accept failure, or listen to reasons why things weren't done. He expects his managers to perform."

"If his goals are reachable, Virginia won't fail. He can't expect people to do the impossible."

"He doesn't expect people to do more than he could, or even as much, but he doesn't expect half hearted effort either."

"That's the thing I feel worst about. Virginia was counting on me to keep things going, so she could take over someday. Instead of doing that, I let my ego get in the way. I should have been content to stay the way we were. I had no business doing what I did. You can't grow a company without capital or adequate credit, and I had neither. Ginny warned me, but I thought I knew better than she did."

"How much is it going to cost to triple this part of your business? Dad didn't talk to us about that part of it."

"Most of the cost will be in ovens and vending machines. A rule of thumb is that these machines take two years to pay for themselves. He'll need at least another twenty million dollars, and probably at least five million more in operating reserves."

"Good. He told me he's going to have a hundred fifty million dollar open operating line, and he'd only need one hundred twenty million of it. Even using twenty five million, that still leaves five million he doesn't need."

"Five million isn't much of a cushion when you're talking one hundred forty five million in encumbrances. One wrong move, and he's toast. Maybe he should scale back his growth plans, do half right away, and the other half in two years, when those first machines are paid for."

"He doesn't need to. My mother and my uncle have a whole lot of money, more than he would ever need. If he needed to, he could get money from them." Mr. Lucas just shook his head, but he was smiling. I think he felt better after we talked. He had told me that he got in trouble trying to grow without capital or credit behind him. Now that he knew this wasn't anything he needed to worry about with Dad, he probably felt a lot better.

"We better start heading back again. Don't want to make you late for lunch. I'm glad we had this talk. I'm feeling better about the sale, and about the people who now own my company. If your dad asks you, tell him I said I'd be very interested in running the marketing for the vending division." We got back in his pick up and drove back across the bridge to Omaha. He parked at the loading dock and sounded his horn. A minute later, Milton came out with a rolling table, and put the three boxes on it. When they were loaded, he went over to one of the three elevators, and took everything upstairs. We rode up with him.

Mr. Lucas asked, "How you doing, Milt? Still eating good, I see."

"Doing good, Mr. Rob, real good. Has this boy been telling stories about me?"

Mr. Lucas looked over at Milton, asking, "No, what kind of stories? You been doing something wrong?"

Milton looked down at the floor of the elevator, saying, "No sir, not me. I been minding my own business. It was him, coming over and asking me a bunch of fool questions. I didn't do nothing."

I said, "I asked him what job he'd like to have if he had his choice of any here." Mr. Lucas laughed, slapping Milton on his shoulder.

Mr. Lucas asked, "You told him you wanted to be a delivery driver, I bet?" Milton looked a little uncomfortable, but he looked up at Mr. Lucas.

Defensively, he said, "He asked me, so I told him."

Mr. Lucas said, "Did you tell him about your suspended license too? Milt, you know you could have been a driver anytime you brought me a clean license. I don't know why you like to make people think it's us keeping you from driving?"

Now it was Milt's turn to laugh, saying, "I had me a license when I first applied."

"Yes you did. When we had our insurance carrier run it, it turned up three tickets in the preceding year, and a recent accident that was your fault. I hired you anyway, and gave you the job down on the baking floor, didn't I? Do you remember what I told you then?"

"You said I could drive for you when I got my license straightened out."

"Is it straightened out yet?"

"No sir. I don't even have no license right now."

"You know I sold the company, right Milt?"

"I know that, Mr. Rob."

"Kenny here is the new owner, least he will be by the time the State of Nebraska is ready to give you your driver's license back. Kenny, are you willing to make Milt a route driver when he has a clean license for you?"

"If I let him be a driver, could I have his old job? It looked pretty easy, and I've always liked easy jobs. How much does that job pay, Milt?"

"Damn, Mr. Rob, why is this boy after my little job? It ain't as easy as it looks either. All you saw was me cleaning off those racks and trays. That's not even half the work I do. Who you think loads all them delivery trucks? Them lazy drivers? No sir, it's Milton Q. Hightower, that's who. You better think some more on it before you go trying to do this man's job."

We were all laughing hard by the time the elevator came to a stop on the third floor. It was twelve thirty, and I saw the door was open on my Dad's new office. I thanked Mr. Lucas for taking me with him, and I told Milt that I'd be down later to learn more about the rest of his job. When I went in my Dad's door, he was just hanging up the phone. He looked pretty happy about something.

He asked me, "Ready for lunch, Kenny?" I shut his office door behind me, and went over to take a seat in front of his desk. I was trying to think of a good way to tell him all the things I needed to. I didn't want him reacting bad to the way I'd spoken to Mr. Lucas, but I wanted to tell him about it before Mr. Lucas said something to him.

I began by saying, "Mr. Lucas is very interested in heading up the marketing department for the vending machine expansion. He said he would need to run things his way though." My Dad's eyebrows rose, questioningly. He wasn't mad yet, but I thought I better keep talking before he got there. "We were talking about Virginia too, and what your plans were for her. Did you know she has an MBA from the University of Chicago? She was planning on taking over running the company soon. This was before Mr. Lucas didn't listen to her advice, and got himself overextended by growing too fast." My father had lowered his eyebrows, and settled back down in his chair. "I thought we should invite them both to have lunch with us, and you could find out more about them, and his ideas for marketing, and hers for running this division. Nobody expects you to make any decisions today, but we can get a better idea about if the three of you can work together."

Dad was trying to stay calm when he asked me, "What else did the two of you talk about?" From the way Dad asked this, he wasn't mad at me yet, but he wasn't exactly happy either. I already knew I'd overstepped myself, by doing what I'd already admitted to. It was possible I was going to find myself shipped back home, before I had spent even a single night away.

I was staring at some papers on his desk, trying to find the right words to say, when I told him, "Mr. Lucas is worried about Virginia staying on at the company. He doesn't know you, or your plans, other than the fact that I told him you want to triple the production from the first floor, and put in new machines in all our existing distribution territories. I told him your plan about having the hundred and fifty million dollar open operating line too, and that you could borrow money from Mama, and Uncle Bunny too, if you needed it. I told him that you have full voting control for the whole company for the next ten years too."

Dad looked upset when he told me, "Jesus, Kenny, did you tell him what I ate for breakfast? Some of this information was very confidential."

I leaned forward again, looking him in the face when I said, "I was trying to set things up so that it would save you time, not having to explain these things to them. Sometimes, it's easier having someone else tell people things about you. They didn't know that much about you, so now they both know that you know what you're doing, you have full authority for making decisions, have solid financial backing, and that you want to grow their old company. You know they're both interested in staying on, and helping you do it. I wasn't the only one telling things. I was collecting information for you too." I wasn't mad that he was a little upset with me, but I didn't want him thinking I was going around, blabbing about his business, without having a good reason for doing it. I thought I still might have gone too far, but I didn't think I had hurt anything, or taken away any of his options.

Dad said, "I guess it wouldn't hurt anything to invite them both out for some lunch, and a private conversation, away from the office. I can tell you that I like having information like this, Kenny, but I'm not sure I would have wanted to disclose as much as you have, in order to get it. It is valuable for me to know that Rob is interested in running the marketing program, because I just got off the phone with the manufacturer of our vending machines. He said he and Rob go back a long ways together, and he refused to quote me a price on a new order without first speaking to Rob. I gathered that Rob being here, or not, would alter his quote significantly. This would be a major financial commitment from us, and I'd like to get the best price and terms possible. I also located eight large commercial ovens that have just been fully refurbished at the factory. I can get them delivered quickly, and I'm very satisfied with price and terms."

We both stood up then and went out looking for Rob and Virginia. Dad approached them both, asking them if they would please join us for lunch and a little business meeting. The first thing I noticed was the worried look on Virginia's face. I would have liked to say something to make her feel more at ease, but I had already decided to let Dad run things at this meeting. I had apparently gotten away with what I had done, speaking like I had with Mr. Lucas, but I wasn't anxious to keep pushing my luck or in taking further chances on Dad deciding I wasn't able to keep from speaking. We left the building, all four of us riding in the limo Dad had arranged to have available for us during our stay in Omaha. It was a white Lincoln stretch limo, and the driver was a youngish looking Hispanic man, who told us his name was Raul. We ended up going to a nice steak house that Virginia and Rob recommended. I had a fourteen ounce filet mignon that was so good, I couldn't believe it. I had a giant baked potato with butter, sour cream and chives, and a nice dinner salad. To drink, I ordered a tall lemonade. Dad and Rob ordered the ten ounce filets, and Virginia had the rib eye steak. All of the meat they served there was graded prime.

During lunch the talk was more about general business, and other things like the weather and baseball. It wasn't until our waiter took away our plates that Dad started talking about his plans, and asking Rob and Virginia how they saw themselves fitting in with these plans. I had expected Rob to be the first one to start talking, but it was Virginia who started answering him first. When she spoke, it became pretty obvious to everyone at the table that she had given what she wanted to say a lot of thought, and that she had been busy, finding out all that was available about Dad's company, our family, and, the general business history of Dad's career, marriage, and the brief time he spent with Consolidated Foods, after the purchase went through. She had somehow even found about the golf learning academy.

What she said, boiled down to it's essence, was that she was the person most qualified, by education, training, and experience, to run the Lucas division of the company. She spoke extensively about having prepared herself for that job since high school. With her father sitting right beside her, she took us through the past four years of Lucas Company history, telling us what happened, what she had recommended, and what either her father or her husband had then decided to go ahead and do. Several times, she interrupted her own story, to insert new information of what should have been done, often admitting that her own earlier recommendation, hadn't been as good as what she now thought should have been done.

She called these decisions, twenty twenty hindsight, but it was obvious that she had thought about what had happened, and had come up with different strategies that would have proved better if the company had implemented them. She didn't spare herself from some of the blame for not recognizing some earlier warning signals that she now saw clearly. I followed a lot of it, but she lost me when she got too technical, discussing some of the financing options they had all overlooked. Mostly, she blamed her husband for talking her father into signing for expensive, short term financing options, to pay for long term business expansion. In the end, she told Dad that, regardless of how any of this turned out, she was filing for a divorce from her husband. She said she thought he should know that before making any decisions about her future with the company

Rob spoke before Dad could say anything to Virginia. "Tom, I can tell you that everything she just told you is true, every word of it. I made mistakes, a lot of them, wanting to grow this company in a hurry, trying to cut a few corners, in the belief that the increased income would more than handle the debt service incurred. I can also tell you that I'm very pleased it was someone like you that stepped in and bailed me out. You have something I didn't have, sufficient capital to do whatever you choose to do with the company. I'm glad you've decided to build up the company that Ginny and I have spent so much of our lives putting together. I told Kenny this earlier, that I'd be very interested in heading up the vending marketing program, but only if Ginny is going to remain a part of the company. If you give her a task to do, she'll get it done for you, or else she'll tell you it's impossible."

Dad looked at all of us. He took a sip of his iced tea before saying, "I appreciate the company history you've both shared with me. It makes some of your decisions easier for me to understand. I can certainly empathize with your feeling such a strong need to get bigger quickly, Rob. I faced a similar decision a little over a year ago, and chose to sell out to Consolidated. I felt then that we weren't strong enough to survive being squeezed out of our markets if someone bigger came along, someone that wanted to engage us in direct price competition. It was the purest kind of dumb luck that we ever ended up getting the company back. It came back, not only fully intact, but greatly strengthened by the two other Consolidated acquisitions. Lucky or not though, we are now strong enough to make anyone that was looking at our markets think twice before jumping into price competition with us. Adding your company to ours just gives us further protection from that.

"I can't promise what my final decision will be regarding Virginia's hope to take over day to day operations for Lucas Company. I would be willing to say that I'm ready to keep an open mind on the possibility of her doing so. I have my own people that she would be in competition with for that job. If she gets it, it will be because I think she is the one best qualified for it. With that understood, I would like very much for you to open up markets for the vending business for us, Rob. I expect to be ready, in six months, to produce a minimum of three times what we are currently producing and selling. I also have a firm long term option on another location for a production site in Delaware. It would have equal or slightly greater capacity than what we're setting up here in Omaha. I would like to have sufficient sales, within eighteen months, to max out the production capability of both plants."

Rob spoke up, sounding a little discouraged when he said, "If you did that, you'd be investing fifty to sixty million dollars in new plant and equipment. From what Kenny has told me, you'd be getting into the same type of situation I found myself in."

Dad smiled, looking at me as he did so, "Kenny only knows what I was thinking earlier, not what I'm currently thinking. In a way, he's the one responsible for my new attitude. I was speaking with Bertie right before he came in to see me before lunch. She was telling me an interesting story about a conversation she had with Kenny concerning his girlfriend, and his future. She told me that Brenda, that's the name of Kenny's girlfriend, was going to be expecting quite a bit from Kenny, in return for giving him the life he hopes to have with her. I had earlier discussed with her my plan for returning some purchase money she and her brother had advanced to reacquire our company. She advised me to keep it, with an eye to making the company grow that much quicker. I now find myself with an extra ninety two million dollars to put to work within the company. I don't like leaving money unemployed, and I like what I've seen of the returns generated by the vending side of your business. The rest of your baking operation will be quickly integrated with our other company, but I plan on growing the vending portion of it separately, and as quickly as you can open new routes for us to service."

The meeting broke up on that positive note, with everyone agreeing that they could live with the current understanding. We went back to the office, but Dad and I left soon after. We stayed in Omaha until two thirty on Friday, before flying back to Bolling. We got home right at five o'clock, and when we walked in the door, I saw Mama and Brenda standing in the entranceway, waiting for us. Both of them had smiles and kisses for us. Mama and Dad went into the library to have a couple drinks before dinner, From the way Mama kept bumping hips with him, I was afraid Dad was going to have bruises before the weekend was finished. Brenda and I were walking side by side, up the stairs when I felt her swinging her hip and catching me in the butt with it. Inside my room, I took both of her hands, and placed them palm in, right in front of my face. The first joint on her pinky's made a perfect "Y".

Brenda and I didn't talk. What we did instead, was lose ourselves in an hour and a half of physical exertion. Both of us were almost desperate in our need and hunger for the other. There was definitely something to be said for silent communication. At six forty five, Gerta phoned up to my room to remind me that dinner was set for seven fifteen, and to remind me that I hadn't even taken the time to come in the kitchen to tell her hello. I would have felt guiltier, if she hadn't been laughing when she said it. Brenda and I hopped into the shower, right after I flushed away the three spent rubbers I'd used. It hadn't all just been sex either, Brenda and I were both hungry for the touching and the closeness we were feeling. We were almost done with our shower before Brenda brought me crashing back to reality.

"You're playing golf tomorrow with your father and uncle. Your mom and mine are taking me into Springfield, for a day of shopping. Isn't that exciting? I had the best talk with your mother, Kenny, and she explained everything to me. I understand now what you've wanted. I know how hard you need to work, to make a good life for us, and for our future children. She told me what her life is like, and it sounds perfect to me. I can be here when you need me though, just like she's been there for your father."

"Doesn't it offend you that my mother is trying to buy your affection for me? She thinks your loyalty is for sale, that you'll do anything for a chance to go shopping with her." Brenda turned to face me and put her arms around me, hugging me tightly. Her entire body was shaking violently.

"Don't spoil this for me Kenny. This is what I've always wanted. I've been so happy, thinking about what our future is going to be. I know you don't like me being so concerned about money, or about nice clothes and things. Your mother told me it was simply a need I had to fill. Like kids with candy, or being really thirsty. She said once I started having enough of everything I wanted, it wouldn't be so important to me anymore. I really do love you, Kenny, and not just because you're rich either. I think about you all the time. Did you see how wet I was when you took my panties off? I've been thinking about you coming home all day. Your mother says you think I don't really love you, but I swear I do. You just tell me whenever I'm doing something you don't like, and I'll change."

I felt sorry for her. She was so pathetically desperate. Trying to convince me that she really wanted to please me, just for me, and not for what my mother had offered to her. I knew, if I volunteered to let her have everything my mother offered her, but only if she left me alone completely, she'd probably agree to do it. I wasn't happy with this new, scared, Brenda. It was too late though, I had already made the deal with my mother. She had kept up her end of it. Now, I needed to find some way to live up to my end. Sorry for her, sad to see her so desperate, I nonetheless loved her. Being with her on my bed had been a memorable experience for me. In her arms like that, I really did feel complete. Not once, not for the entire period we were locked together on the bed, did I ever feel one second of doubt or anxiety about what we were doing. I wondered what that said about me. Was I only relating to Brenda sexually? Had she become less than a person to me now? I hoped not, because I really honestly felt love for her. If she was going to be just a sex pet for me, purchased by my mother, what did that make me?

We finished our shower together, and we both enjoyed patting each other dry with the thick towels that were in my bathroom. I made it a special point to be extra tender with Brenda from the time I had my thought about her being my sex pet, until we got downstairs for dinner. I sat her beside me at the table, and while we were waiting for Mama and Dad to come down too, I told her how much I'd enjoyed the time we had just spent together. By the time my parents arrived, Brenda and I had recaptured our earlier closeness. Unless I was very much mistaken, I'd just managed to talk myself into being happy with her again. It had been every bit as easy as filling myself full of doubts and worries before had been. Brenda hadn't changed at all, it was my perception of her that had changed. The logical ramifications of this discovery were staggering to me. Was all of this something I had always held under my own control? Now, I was the one who felt like shaking. This was going to require a whole lot of thought and experimentation.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 15

Surprisingly, once I stopped fretting over my relationship with Brenda, I was able to feel relaxed around her again. After dinner we all sat in the library, talking about money. I excused myself long enough to go in the kitchen and visit with Gerta and Hans. Gerta told me that Grace and Jane had driven to Bolling for the weekend, and that Mama had given them the keys to the apartment my parents kept there. For some reason, this seemed to upset both Gerta and Hans, and I didn't know why. Normally, I would have just asked Gerta what was wrong, but this time I didn't. It didn't matter that I didn't ask her though, because, after she saw I wasn't going to ask her, she told me why they were upset.

"I don't trust those girls up there all alone, Kenny. We don't really know anything about them. Suppose they decide to rent a truck and fill it up with all the art, and the nice furniture there? Or worse, suppose they decide to throw a big party for their friends?"

"I guess Mama trusts them, or else she wouldn't have let them use the apartment. Do you want me to say something to her?"

"I want to send Hans up there to see for himself. Not tonight, but tomorrow night, but I can't think of a good reason for doing it. A reason that would keep your mother from being upset with us."

"Gerta, just the fact that you're worried is reason enough for me. I'm asking you to see if you can have Hans stop by there tomorrow night, just to make sure everything is okay. If Mama asks you, that's your reason for doing it. In a way, they're my guests, and I feel responsible for their behavior." Gerta was smiling at me, and when she turned to Hans, I could see a triumphant gleam in her eye. Hans looked disappointed. This wasn't something he would enjoy doing.

When I got back to the library, Mama and Brenda were talking about the dance at the club the next night, and about the new dresses they were going to be buying for it. I hadn't known we'd be going to the dance, but I was all right with the idea. I wondered how the women were going to go all the way to Springfield and back, plus do all their shopping, and still have either the time, or the energy, to get back home and be ready for the dance. Mama explained that they were driving to Bolling in the morning, and would be taking the company plane up to Springfield and back.

"On the way back, let's stop off at the apartment to find out if the girls are doing okay. Maybe they'll want to join us for the dance?" I got up and went back into the kitchen, explaining to Hans and Gerta that Mama had already thought ahead to checking on the girls. This time, it was Hans doing the smiling. I was looking at Brenda when I got back from the library again, and I was struck with how comfortable she seemed, sitting next to Mama, listening to Dad talk about how well he thought the new business was shaping up, and how happy he was to be getting a good toe hold in the lucrative snack vending business. The way Brenda hung on his every word, you would have thought Dad was discussing making all that money for her. I looked at my watch, noticing it was after nine o'clock.

"Brenda, what time are your parents expecting you home tonight?" I watched as Mama and Brenda exchanged a look. Brenda lowered her head, allowing Mama to deliver the news.

"Brenda's spending the night with us, in the girl's room, Kenny. I thought you already knew that. Georgia's going to be meeting us here at seven, so there was really no point in taking her home, not when we'd have to bring her back so early."

Dad, Uncle Bunny and I were teeing off at ten fifteen the next morning. Mama had confirmed that with Dave by telephone, earlier in the week. Using the need for them to get up early the next morning, Mama and Brenda decided to retire early, standing up and excusing themselves as they left the room. Dad and I waited ten minutes before we too decided to turn in. As I had more than half expected, Brenda had managed to take a wrong turn at the top of the stairs, and had wound up in my bedroom. I proceeded to make love with her one more time, then we both fell asleep. I woke up suddenly, at five thirty, and my mother was standing at the foot of the bed, watching Brenda sleeping in my arms. Though she was smiling, I saw tears running down her face.

"Go back to sleep, sweetie, I just came to make sure Brenda was up in time to be ready when her mother comes over for an early breakfast. I was reminded so much of an earlier time, watching the two of you sleeping like this. This used to be my parents room, Kenny, and I often came in when I was little, to find them sleeping together, in the same position you and Brenda were in. I had forgotten how much in love they once were. I'll leave now. Wake her when I'm gone, and have her go into your old room to get herself ready. We'll see you this evening."

As soon as Mama let herself out, I shook Brenda gently awake. We kissed, and being teenagers, one thing led to another, until we wound up coupling with an insistent urgency. I was cumming inside her before I remembered that I hadn't used a condom. I hoped she hadn't forgotten to take her pills. When I asked her, she swore that she hadn't missed a single day. I looked out in the hallway before I let her run off to Grace and Jane's room, wearing my PE shirt from the Academy. Brenda never did return that shirt, although I have my doubts she ever had the nerve to wear it at home.

We had a great round of golf. I made six hundred dollars for one thing, and Uncle Bunny kept telling us these funny jokes the whole time we were playing. On the second par three on the front nine, Uncle Bunny hit a five iron right into the flag stick, and was unlucky to have it bounce back and roll fifteen feet away, to the fringe. Dad landed on the green, fifteen to twenty feet behind the flag. I pulled my shot to the right, but pitched to within eighteen inches for my par. Dad two putted, as did Uncle Bunny. It wasn't a stroke hole for any of us so there was no advantage to anyone. After he paid both Dad and I, Uncle Bunny was still celebrating that tee shot. He had saved the ball, taking it out of play after the hole was finished, and was talking about having it bronzed, then mounted on a plaque for his office wall. Even though he lost, Uncle Bunny still shot a respectable ninety two.

Mama, Brenda, and Mrs. Connor didn't get back until almost seven. Uncle Bunny, Dad, and I had already started eating before they came barreling through the front door, each of them carrying several full bags of clothes in their arms. They flew by us, saying they were running late, and that they had all eaten something on the flight home. They disappeared upstairs with their bags, right before Hans showed up carrying five or six boxes. I jumped up and ran to give him a hand, putting those boxes back down after Hans started back to the limo. I ran after him, telling him that I'd carry in the rest. It was a sign of how bad his back was that he didn't even try to protest, turning back towards the front door, and heading to his apartment.

It took me four trips, each time carrying a good load of bags and boxes, before I had everything carried inside. I stacked things up in the hallway, not knowing what box or bag contained which persons clothes. I went back and finished my dinner, then carried my plate into the kitchen, to let Gerta know that Hans had hurt his back again. She went off to their apartment, right after I told her, to look in on him. I went back to the dining room, and began clearing off the table. I could see that my doing that was annoying to my father.

I wanted to explain to him about why I left the table, and why I was clearing it then, saying, "Hans threw his back out again, and Gerta went to see if he's going to be all right."

Dad told me, "It isn't done like that, Kenny, you'll make Gerta feel bad. She can come back after she's checked on him. Clearing the table can wait." Uncle Bunny stood up and started helping me with the serving bowls and the remaining glasses and plates. He didn't say anything, but his actions spoke to how he felt about what Dad had said. Dad stood up and dropped his napkin on the table, telling us, "You aren't doing them any service by clearing off a few plates. I'm going to call Jack Flores and set up an appointment for Hans to be looked over on Monday."

Uncle Bunny paused, looking at my Dad, asking him, "Jack Flores the Chiropractor? How do you know him?"

"I've known him for thirty five years, Bunny. We were in junior high school together. Do you know him too? He gives me adjustments for my neck at least two or three times a month. That man has magic in his hands."

"I went out with Gloria a few times, before they were married of course. Jack helped me with my shoulder a few years ago."

"You dated Gloria Kessler too? I took her out when we were sophomores in high school. When did you go out with her?"

"Later than that. I think it was when we were juniors. Funny, she never mentioned knowing you, Tommy. You must not have made much of an impression on her."

Dad pretended to groan, saying, "She made an impression on me. What a tease!"

Uncle Bunny smiled, saying, "Really? Well, I guess she grew out of that by the time I took her out."

Dad looked a little enviously at Uncle Bunny when he said that. I had heard Dad complaining before that Uncle Bunny did better with girls than he did. Dad was a much better looking guy too, so I guess it was Uncle Bunny's money, and his personality. Bea had also said that Uncle Bunny was good at sex, and maybe that was part of the reason too. She hadn't given Dad very high marks for sex.

When we got to the club, Mr. Connor and Richard were already there. Mr. Connor looked like he'd already had quite a few drinks. Brenda and Mrs. Connor had come home in a real good mood, but it didn't take Mr. Connor long to spoil things for them. He made several very rude comments about his wife sucking up to Mama, and about him not wanting his wife and daughter spending so much time with Mama, pretending to be rich bitches.

Uncle Bunny tried to quiet him down, but it was obvious to everyone that he had come there spoiling for a big, angry scene with his wife. Mrs. Connor said something to him, trying to get him to quit yelling at her, but he stood up and came around to where she was sitting next to Mama. As soon as he reached out and grabbed her arm, lifting her up roughly, my father and Uncle Bunny got up and protested. I saw Uncle Bunny trying to separate them, but when Mr. Connor punched him in the neck, all I saw was my father moving right in front of Mr. Connor. It happened so quickly, I'm not sure what really happened, because I was blocked by my father's body. By the time I stood up and tried to move over closer to Brenda, to see what was going on, it was all over.

Mama had Mrs. Connor by her unhurt arm, and they were heading off to the ladies room, with Brenda trailing, but not too far behind. Dad was standing there with a big smile on his face, and Uncle Bunny was standing over Mr. Connor, yelling at him to stay down. Several employees of the country club had come over, and they were telling all of us we'd have to leave. I was looking at Richard, wondering if he had seen what had happened, and whether he'd tell me if I asked him.

It was at least another fifteen minutes before all of us left. Frank Thresher, the manager of the country club, came over to make sure that we were all leaving. He seemed very upset, not liking it at all that something like this had happened at one of his member functions. At one point, he whispered something to Uncle Bunny, but Uncle Bunny waved him off angrily. Mr. Thresher said something else, and Uncle Bunny looked at him.

"Frank, you better think twice about initiating any action without the advice of competent counsel. I doubt very much the membership would welcome the type of lawsuit that would be filed against this club if something like that were even proposed. Walt slipped and fell, and I was assisting him back onto his feet. We'll leave, but only because I want him to receive proper medical attention for his injuries. If I were in your place, I'd worry more about the club's liability for those injuries. They occurred as a result of him losing his footing on this very slippery floor."

Dad insisted on driving Mr. Connor and Richard home in Mr. Connor's car. Uncle Bunny called Hans to come pick the rest of us up in the limo. Poor Hans, running all around like that, with his very sore back. When Hans got there, we all piled into the back seat, except for Uncle Bunny. He chose to ride up front with Hans, telling him to drop by the Connor house to pick up Dad. Back home, Dad, Mama, Mrs. Connor and Uncle Bunny went into the library. I heard Dad telling Mama that he had already told Mr. Connor that his wife and Brenda would be spending the night in our guest bedrooms until he cooled off and came to his senses.

Uncle Bunny left at about ten thirty. Brenda and I were sitting in the living room, talking together, when he came out and told us goodnight. Brenda was pretty calm about her parents having that big fight, and had been telling me about her day, and about how much she liked the way the weekend was going.

That night, around eleven thirty, Brenda came into my bedroom again. This time, I remembered to use rubbers. I set my alarm for six o'clock, after Brenda fell asleep in my bed around two. Mrs. Connor didn't wake up until almost eleven. She and Mama both looked pretty shaky when they came down for a late brunch. Mr. Connor came over alone at about two thirty, to apologize to his wife, and to ask her to come back home. My dad invited them both to stay for dinner, but, Mr. Connor politely refused, and Mrs. Connor didn't make any protest at his refusal. I said goodbye to Brenda outside, as she got into her Dad's car. We had managed to get through the entire weekend without fighting. I noticed that neither Brenda, nor her mother, had loaded up even a third of the new clothes that Mama had bought for them. Mrs. Connor drove off in her own car, so it wasn't because they didn't have enough room for everything.

Back inside the house, I went upstairs and phoned Emily. I apologized to her for trying to dictate to her how she should be treating Brenda. Emily had a lot of questions about the weekend that Brenda and I had spent together. I told her that I was sure Brenda would give her a blow by blow description.

Emily asked me, "Did you do it?"

"You have to ask her, Emily. All I can tell you was that we had a very nice time together. We're closer now than we've ever been." She hung up on me. I was only slightly surprised at that. Emily must have known that Brenda would consider her expendable, after she started mining what she considered to be the mother lode. In spite of what I hoped, and what my mother seemed to believe, Brenda was still the same. Only her approach had changed. I didn't know if that was going to be enough for me, but I was willing to give it an honest try. If everything stayed as it had been for the weekend, I would have little to complain about.

At five o'clock, Emily called me. She told me she had spoken to Brenda. Emily sounded sad and dispirited. Brenda had told her that she didn't want to "play" anymore. I let her talk for awhile before I interrupted her.

"Emily, were you expecting anything different from her? I heard her tell you several times that this was what she wanted. I wasn't the one who asked her to stop doing things with you. My mother might have said something to her, or her mother, but I didn't even mention you this whole weekend. Brenda didn't say anything to me about any of this."

Emily then asked me, "Do you think she really means it? About us never playing anymore?"

I had to think before I answered her, because I really didn't have any idea how much of their sex play was Emily's idea, and how much of it was Brenda's. If I answered her right then, I'd have just been guessing.

"How did it get started between you two? Was it your idea?"

"Mostly, it was, but she was the first one to start talking about things. After I told her about Paolo, she started telling me the things you did, and then about what she did with Claudia before. We didn't do that much together, until after those times with you. She came over to my house after that time with Darryl, and spent the weekend. Mostly, she was crying, and worrying about what you'd do when you read the letter she sent you. That's when she let me do the other thing to her."

"I don't know what to say to you, Emily. It's really between you and Brenda. Is there anyone else you feel that way about?"

"Just you, Kenny, but I never wanted you as much as I wanted Brenda. I love her. I knew she didn't love me, but I didn't believe you when you told me this might happen."

"Brenda told you too, Emily. I heard her telling you almost the same thing I did. You don't want to listen when it's something you don't want to have happen. I feel bad, but you can't say we both didn't warn you about it. You love Brenda, I love Brenda, and Brenda loves Brenda. That was always the one thing we all had in common. I'm not even sure this no more playing thing was Brenda's idea. Did she say it was?"

"I don't remember exactly what she said, Kenny, only that it meant we weren't going to be able to be together that way anymore. I'm pretty sure we were the only ones who even knew about Brenda and I doing those things together."

"My mother had a long talk with Brenda and her mother earlier in the week. It definitely could have come out then. I don't think Brenda would just decide to give this up on her own. If you want, I can call Brenda and find out. I'm curious too about why she told you this was over. It isn't like her to just quit doing something she enjoys, not unless she was told she had to. Were you after her to lick you too?"

"No. I haven't even asked her, not since before that time in your bedroom. She was mad at me for making you think she licked me too, and for getting you to tell her she should do it to me. I told her I didn't ask you to do that. I told her it was your idea. She said I shouldn't want her to do that."

"Emily, don't take this the wrong way, but I need to know what you want me to do? Did you want me to talk to Brenda, to find out why, or do you want me to see if I can change her mind?"

"No, because she didn't want me talking to you about this. She says it already caused her too much trouble, and that it wasn't worth it."

"You must have wanted me to do something, or did you just want to tell me what Brenda decided?"

"I don't know. Who else was I supposed to talk to about it?"

"Emily, I'd like to help you, but I need to find out what you want from me."

"Did she really get to sleep in your bed with you for two whole nights?"

"Emily, try to figure out what you want me to do. When you know what it is, call me. I'm not talking to you about what Brenda and I do."

"I know already, but you won't do it."

"Tell me."

"Break up with her."

"You're right, I won't do that. Do you think that would work?"

"It did before. When you weren't around, she treated me better. Now, she thinks you're going to marry her, that's why she's acting like this."

"She thinks I will marry her someday, Emily, not any time soon."

"Would you still be my friend if Brenda told you not to be?"

"I'm not going to let Brenda tell me who I can be friends with. You are my friend. Even if Brenda doesn't want to do any sex stuff with you, you're still going to keep being her friend too."

"Suppose I told you something that Brenda did, something really bad? Would you break up with her then?"

I didn't like the direction this conversation was going. I wanted to know what Emily knew about what Brenda had done, but I wasn't sure this was the way to go about finding out. Emily was upset with Brenda, and I didn't want her saying something now that she would regret having said later. I needed to warn her away from sharing information with me that might not be hers to divulge. Brenda deserved better than that, and so did Emily.

"Emily, don't tell me. If you do, you're going to feel bad about it later. Brenda won't like it either. There isn't anything you could tell me that would make me break up with her right now. I promised my mother I'd try to see if we can get along. I have to try."

"She let Gary screw her, and she did it right in front of me, so I could watch." The words tumbled out of Emily's mouth. It was almost as though she was powerless not to tell me. Gary was only twelve years old. He was tall for his age, but he didn't even look like he'd started going through puberty yet. That was what my first thoughts were about. I wished that Emily hadn't told me about it. It didn't occur to me that it might not be true. I should have had a little doubt, but I didn't.

"How long ago? Was it before or after she and I did it that first time?"

"The first time was before, but she did it more than once. I think they've done it six or seven times now. The last time that I know about for sure, was two weeks ago, when Brenda spent the night at our house. She might have done it since then, but if she did, I didn't find out about it."

"Do you think this is going to make me break up with her? It won't. I'll ask her about it, and tell her not to do that anymore. If she does it again, after, then I'll break up with her. I can't see how this is going to help you with Brenda, Emily. If anything, it will probably hurt your relationship with her."

"Ask her if she did or not. Ask Gary too. She's the one who asked him to do it to her."

"Emily, I've got to go. I think you should phone Brenda, to warn her about what you said to me. I don't feel like talking anymore to you right now."

After I hung up the phone, I felt pretty bad. I wondered if I was going to be able to talk myself into finding some way to be happy with Brenda again. I worried about Emily too. What she'd done would be almost impossible for Brenda to forgive. What about what Brenda had done? I'd already made peace with her screwing Darryl before, but I'd given her several chances to be honest about anyone else. She'd told me it was only Darryl, and only one time with him. She definitely lied to me about Gary, assuming that Emily was telling me the truth. I wondered if Mama would advise me to forgive Brenda this time too. She'd probably tell me that Brenda had promised to be good since the time those things with Gary took place. I expected to get a frantic phone call from Brenda soon, but I had too many things I hadn't figured out for myself yet. If we spoke before I had time to think things through, I might say something that I'd regret later.

I called down to the kitchen and asked Gerta not to put any calls through to me. I mentioned Emily and Brenda by name, telling her that I didn't want to speak to either of them before morning. It wasn't even six o'clock yet. Way too early for me to go to bed. I went and took a long shower, remembering how I'd felt earlier in the day. I was angry, with me mostly, for convincing myself to hope again about Brenda. I was angry with Emily, for using me like this, for telling me this only in order to hurt Brenda. I was mad at Brenda for not being honest with me, and mad at Mama for getting all of this started up again.

Jane and Grace got home at six thirty. I heard them laughing together as they ran up the stairs. I hoped they would have a lot to tell Mama at dinner, so she wouldn't notice the way I was feeling. At seven o'clock, I went down for dinner. As soon as I saw Mama's face, I knew something really bad had happened.

"I just finished speaking with Georgia, Kenny. She told me what Brenda told her Emily had disclosed to you. I know you must be very troubled by this new information. It bothered me as well, when I first learned of it. I hope you can treat it as Georgia and I have, as part of this rebellious phase that Brenda passed through, during this past school year. This was before she understood what her future could hold. It doesn't have to mean anything to you, not unless you allow it to upset you, and cause you further distress."

"Mama, I don't care to discuss this, not now. I need to think everything through before I decide what I need to do. When I've done that, I'll come to you, and we can have this discussion."

"Very well, but I need to tell Georgia something. Brenda needs something to hang on to. She's very upset and concerned. She wanted to tell you about this earlier, but her mother and I told her not to. We felt it would be better to hold off on doing that for a time, at least until you two had a chance to see how good you could be together."

I stared at my mother. I couldn't believe she was telling me this, or that she thought it would make any difference to me. I didn't know why she was in such a hurry, after I'd told her I needed more time. If I told her what I wanted right now, it was almost sure to be worse than if I waited. Worse for me, and a lot worse for Brenda. I was trying to find some way to keep on doing what my mother wanted me to do, but she was making it a lot harder, by asking me for some words for her to give to comfort Brenda.

"I'd rather go back to the orphanage to live, than spend another five minutes here, discussing Brenda. Maybe that's what you need to do, Mama, send me back, and go find another boy, one who would be happy to start all over again with Brenda."



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Chapter 16

"I'd rather go back to the orphanage to live, than spend another five minutes here, discussing Brenda. Maybe that's what you need to do, Mama, send me back, and go find another boy, one who would be happy to start all over again with Brenda."

I stood up from the table then, asking to be excused, and half ran, half walked, to the front door. I heard Dad calling after me, and I heard my mother, angrily yelling at me, demanding that I come back, so she could finish discussing this with me. I ran out into the front driveway, wishing it was winter instead of summer. It would be another hour before it got dark, and I really wanted to be alone somewhere in the darkness. There are some emotional states that seem to require darkness, and I found myself in one of those. I was already crying, convinced that the pattern of behavior that had plagued me my entire life, had once again returned. This time, the everything I stood to lose, actually meant something to me. In my mind, this was happening because, once again, I'd allowed things to get too good for me, and losing all of it was going to be my punishment.

I had come to realize something else though, that it wasn't just outside forces that controlled this happening to me. I was almost always the one who set up these all or nothing confrontations. What I'd just said to Mama, was a classic example of how I did that. There was something inside me that seemed to hate it whenever things were going well for me. It was almost like I was my own worst enemy.

The situation with Brenda was bad, and I did need to do something, take some action, but it certainly didn't need to be as drastic as what I had proposed at the dinner table. I'd gone through these same situations at St. Cecelia's, a hundred times before. It always started out as something small, a contest of wills, or my deciding not to do something, something that I'd been willing to do in the past. The thing that got it going would be quickly forgotten, as it turned into an angry confrontation over who was in control of me. Always before, in these confrontations, I had been willing to pay any price, to suffer any punishment, to ensure that, in the end, I was the person in control of me.

Never before though, had I had anything important to lose, not compared to what I now had. I now had a family. I didn't care that much about the lifestyle or the money that I stood to lose, but, I had been accepted as a son and nephew by Mama, Dad, and Uncle Bunny. I loved all of them. I believed they all loved me too. Was it really worth so much to me, this need to be in control?

I had been walking and thinking for a long time. I was already on the other side of town, with no idea of where I was heading. It was starting to get a little darker now, more in keeping with my brooding thoughts. I kept coming back to something I had always known in the back of my head, that none of this had much to do with Brenda. She was the focus of it, but it was always more about the relationship I had with Mama, and the need each of us had to get their own way. Our styles were different, but in the end, it was simply a contest of wills. I was the immovable object, and she was the irresistible force. Classic confrontation model. Given my life to that point, one filled with adult female authority figures, and my history for being willing to pay any price for retaining control over my thoughts and actions, something like this was bound to occur. It had already occurred once before, but that time, we had reached a temporary solution, one short of total estrangement. That had been arranged by Dad and Uncle Bunny though. Mama and I had little to do with salvaging anything from that.

I started building walls up in my mind, walls I thought I could hide myself behind. My first wall was Brenda. I wasn't going to let anyone but me dictate how much or how little we had to do with each other. Mama could hope all she wanted to, but I wasn't going to permit her to scheme, or to force me to keep a relationship going with Brenda. Unless Mama respected my decision on this, she wasn't going to be able to reach inside my wall, to get back into contact with me. I didn't know that she'd want to, but I did know she couldn't penetrate this mental wall I'd erected. No one ever had been able to do that. The second wall I built was to keep out Brenda and Emily. I didn't need for it to be as strong, because all I was trying to protect was my heart. With Mama, it was my heart and my mind, but my heart was already filled with love for her. She could have my heart, but not my mind. The third wall I built was the hardest for me, but it was a wall I'd built many times before. This was the wall that kept me inside, preventing me from reaching out to others. With this wall. I'd be emotionally insulated again. I'd used this wall for most of my life, closing myself off from caring about others. Maybe not from caring, but from showing them anything I might feel for them.

I looked at my watch, it was ten thirty, and I had completed construction of all three of my walls. I felt an emotional numbness. My legs were tired from my long walk, but I knew now where I was, and where I'd been heading. I was on the road to Holton, no more than six or seven miles from the Clement Academy. I wasn't sure if they'd even let me into my old apartment. I still had clothes and other belongings in my room, stored there until the new school year began. There were at least sixty boys staying at the Academy over the summer. These were kids who lived too far away to go home for vacation, or ones whose parents didn't want them home for one reason or another. Most of these were in "Search Hall", but I knew Jerry was staying year round also.

When I got to the academy, one of the 'special counselors' intercepted me, and asked me what I wanted. I told him I'd returned to school early, and that I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. Since my name was still on the student lists, and because my room was still in my name, he let me into the building. I went in, going right to bed, not waking anyone else up.

It was Wednesday before Uncle Bunny found me. He had called out to the Academy, to try to get names and phone numbers of any friends I might have made at school. When he identified himself and asked for the information, the administrator's secretary told him I was back in residence at the academy. I'm not sure why he did it, but Uncle Bunny didn't tell Mama or Dad that he'd found me. Instead, he drove out himself, to speak with me. I was surprised when they called me over to the administration building, and I saw Uncle Bunny standing beside his car, waiting for me.

"I'm not going back there!" Uncle Bunny didn't say anything. "I don't want to see them anymore. You'll just have to get another boy for them."

"Nobody wants another boy, Kenny. You have to stop thinking that way. Do you think you're some kind of interchangeable part, someone that we can all plug in, and unplug, whenever we feel like it? Your mom and dad have been worried sick about you. Bertie's been in her room ever since you left. The only reason she isn't under a blanket in her closet, is because she needs to be alert, so that we can tell her when you're found. I came out here as soon as I found out where you were. You've really had all of us worried, Kenny. I have a message from your mother. She asked me to let you know this, as soon as I found you. She gives up. No more Brenda, no more interfering in that part of your life. You can do what you want to about Brenda, and she won't say or do anything to change whatever you decide."

Just like that, it was over. I had won. In the past, my winning had never been a reason for celebration. At best, it was simply a cessation of punishment, or some nun deciding to take no further notice of my recalcitrant behavior. When Mother Superior had been forced to take notice of one of these situations, and get involved herself, there had always been a time when I'd find myself standing in front of her desk, with her going into a big, long explanation, which she claimed was for my benefit, letting me know that, while I was wrong, they simply didn't have the heart to continue punishing me any further. Instead of further punishment, she always told me, the sisters were all praying for me, and hoping that God or Jesus would change my behavior for them.

After Uncle Bunny told me what Mama had said, I started crying again, partly in relief, and partly in sorrow that I had caused all of this to take place. It was a good thing that Mama gave in, because I had already learned that those walls I'd built up, somehow weren't working. They only worked when you didn't actually love people, or when those people didn't love you back. It was something I had used at the orphanage, to pretend to be stronger than I was. I needed to be emotionally detached, to appear more self sufficient than I really was. I could still run away inside my mind and hide, I just couldn't do it without feelings now. I had lost the ability to do that. I was now just as vulnerable as anyone else. Maybe that had always been true, but now I knew that it was. I felt exposed.

"I can't just go back there, not after this. I need some time to think about things. Tell Mama I love her, and I'm sorry, but I need to still figure a lot of things out. This thing with Brenda is causing me problems, and I need to get myself to where I'm able to accept what happened better. Right now, I'm very angry."

"That's certainly understandable, Kenny. All of us are angry about different aspects of this situation. Several unfortunate events had occurred in your absence. Walt and Georgia have separated, with Georgia and Brenda occupying the apartment we keep in Bolling. Walt and Richard remain in their home. Walt is aware of what went on at your house this past weekend, and that Georgia was an actual sponsor for Brenda's activities. Emily Carstairs has been coming over to the house or calling there, at least five or six times a day, asking about whether you've turned up. She is blaming herself for everything that has happened. Tommy has been rather upset as well. First, by your absence, but also at Bertie for orchestrating this whole debacle. I find myself in complete agreement with him. None of this should have been allowed to happen."

"Uncle Bunny, I'm not sure if I should even tell you this, but Mrs. Connor told Mama that she was your father's daughter." I expected him to get really excited when I told him that, but he simply smiled at me.

"I assumed that she might have. It was really the only answer that explained Bertie's recent actions, and her sudden concern for Georgia and Brenda's welfare. Another dark family secret revealed to you, Kenny. Sometimes I wonder at the many complications we're all so busy throwing at you. For purely selfish reasons, I've tried to keep this last piece of information from Bertie. I knew, if she ever had her suspicions confirmed, that our mother might have had a motive for suicide, she would find some way to make Mother's suicide somehow her fault. I didn't want that, and I didn't care to deal with the other questions this raises about my relationship with Georgia. It is too complex for me to understand it, let alone for me to try to explain it to someone else."

"You already knew? Mrs. Connor told Mama you didn't know. Mama thinks you don't know."

"Of course I knew. Do you think I would have submitted to that vasectomy if I hadn't known the reason for my father demanding I have it done? I knew about it before he ever told me. What he said, merely confirmed for me what Georgia had told me years before. The attraction I had for Georgia was too strong for me to resist. I've tried, many times, to resist it, but, in the end, it is something I have been unable to get completely away from. I worry that you might be developing a similar attraction for Brenda. While we're talking about this, there's another family secret. This is one Bertie almost certainly hasn't shared with you. Vasectomies are reversible. Two years after I had mine, I thought I might marry another woman, one that I was then seeing pretty exclusively. I had always wanted children, but not so much that I was willing to stand up to my father, or to give up Georgia. I had mine reversed. Georgia and I are both reasonably certain that Brenda is my daughter. Part of that near certainty is the timing of the pregnancy, and part of it is the profusion of recessive genetic characteristics that Brenda has shown. Her hair coloring being one example of this."

"Mama doesn't know?"

"I'm certain she has suspicions. I'd be surprised, given Georgia's recent revelations to her, if that topic hadn't also been raised, and discussed, at some length, by the pair of them. If she does believe that Brenda is my own, natural daughter, then her surrender to you concerning this situation with Brenda, is an even greater act of love."

"If Brenda is your daughter, you've sure got a spoiled child. She doesn't care about anyone else, just herself, and what she wants."

"I don't disagree, not from what I have found out about some of her recent activities. On the other hand, knowing all of this, weren't you also indulging her, as long as this meant you were getting what you wanted?"

"I wanted peace with Mama. I'm not saying I didn't enjoy making love to Brenda, because I did, a whole lot. I'm not the one who made her like she is though, and whenever I tried to get her to act differently, someone else would step in and tell her it wasn't necessary for her to change. If it hadn't been for Mama, I would have never made love to Brenda."

"Fair enough, as far as it goes. The truth of these protests will only be known when you are tempted in the future. I wonder if you'll be able to resist her then, or if you'll prove to be just as weak as I was with her mother."

I had thought of that same thing. Forgetting all the reasons why I had made love to her, and all of the things I'd since learned about her, I was still a boy who wasn't quite sixteen years old. Like most boys of that age, when it came to sex, I could resist everything except temptation. It was super easy to rationalize doing what every hormone in your body was begging you to do. I had already made up my mind that I was never going to make love to Brenda again. I was certain I'd never love her, or trust her again. My only doubt was over whether I was strong enough to not screw her again, if we were ever alone, and she offered to do that with me.

"Did you try to resist Mrs. Connor?" Uncle Bunny smiled at me. It was just like he knew exactly what I was worried about.

"It was about fifty fifty with us. Half the time I was the one resisting her, and she'd manage to seduce me. The other half of the time, I'd be the one chasing after her, and she'd be telling me no. If I listened to her, and left her alone, she'd come after me a short time later. With us, there's that strong physical attraction, but there is a lot more. Our whole lives have been an entanglement. It hasn't been easy, not for either of us. To a much lesser extent, Bertie and I were the same way. Being twins, there was always that closeness, and, sometimes, it spilled over into a different sort of closeness. When Bertie and Tommy finally got together, that part of our relationship ceased completely. It was never just sex, and sex was never the most important component. With Georgia though, the opposite is true. Sex dominates our relationship."

"You have as many secrets as Brenda, Uncle Bunny. Do you have any more that you want to tell me?"

"Just one more, and it has to do with Emily. For the past year, I've been having some people investigate the circumstances surrounding your being placed with Bolling County Children's Services, and your later placement at St. Cecelia's. I became curious, because, under normal circumstances, you would have never been placed in an orphanage such as St. Cecelia's. There was a fairly well established foster home network in place at that time. What I've learned so far is inconclusive, but, I have reason to believe that Emily Carstairs might be your half sister, and that Sister Clara, might be a blood aunt of yours. Normally, I would withhold such preliminary information, until some concrete confirmation could be found, or until I had taken this investigation as far as I could take it, and it was unlikely that further information would be uncovered. I would like to stress that I began this investigation on my own, and that your parents weren't, and aren't, involved in it."

"Sister Clara at St. Cecelia's? Don't you think she'd have said something to me if she was a relative? She treated me better than the other sisters, but not any better than she treated anyone else."

"Well, as I said, the findings are preliminary only. I've learned that you were brought to St. Cecelia's by Sister Clara. Right now, we're trying to locate Sister Clara's family. Church confidentiality rules are posing some problems for us in this regard, but I've located someone who might help us with gaining access to confirm her former family name, and to provide us with her next of kin notification information. We are currently involved in a negotiation for this."

When he mentioned negotiations, I figured he must mean Mother Superior. I wondered why he didn't just ask Sister Clara. I'm sure she'd tell him. I knew some of the nuns family names, because they sometimes talked about it, or else they had family visitors who signed in on the visitor log they kept over by the main entrance. I didn't remember Sister Clara having any family visitors though. I was pretty excited to think that Uncle Bunny might find my real family for me. I didn't want to think about what having Emily for a half sister implied. Since Emily was eight months younger than I was, that meant her mother couldn't be my mother. This only left her father as a possibility. That would mean I was a Carstairs. I remembered something that Uncle Bunny had said at dinner one time, about Mr. Carstairs and some high school girl. I tried to remember everything he said. Coulter, that was it. Anne Coulter. He had said that her sister became a nun, Sister Clara.

"Sister Clara is my aunt then, and this Anne Coulter would be my mother?" Uncle Bunny was beaming at me, and nodding his head up and down.

"You have an excellent memory for things, Kenny. You would make a good lawyer. Yes, I think Sister Clara is your aunt. I'm approaching this rather cautiously, trying to uncover everything I can, before people start becoming suspicious, and wonder at my curiosity. There isn't much actual evidence, but the name Clara, and having Sister Clara be the person who brought you to St. Cecilia's, that's enough to make me very suspicious. I would like to locate Anne Coulter. I remember hearing she was in a serious automobile accident some years back, but I haven't tried to trace her back that way. If it becomes necessary though, I will. For now, I'm confident that I'll be able to confirm Sister Clara's family name was Coulter. After that, I'll have all the corroboration I'll need."

"I'd like to see my real mother if I could, just to see what she looks like. I've already met Mr. Carstairs, and I didn't like him very much. I hope he isn't really my father."

"Tommy is your father now, Kenny, and Bertie is your mother. I can understand you wanting to know your genetic relations, but they've certainly failed you in terms of providing for your welfare and support."

"I still would like to know. I'm not saying I'd do anything more than take a look at them, but I've wondered about a lot of things for a long time. The idea of finally knowing is very exciting to me."

"Well, you should know, and I feel confident you will. Getting back to the more immediate concerns of the present though, what are we going to do to get through this current impasse? Having you stay here, doing nothing, isn't a good option. There is nothing here for you to do, and you should be at home with your family."

"I'd rather you tell them where I am, and that I want to be alone right now. I still need to think about everything that's happened. I've done a lot of thinking since I left the house, and I've gotten some things settled already. My mind works differently than a lot of other people's. I have to be the one to convince myself of things. Having other people tell me what I should think, it just doesn't work well with me. Sometimes, I really wish it did."

"Will you at least give Bertie a call, Kenny. If you called her first, it would mean so much to her. We need never mention that you've seen or spoken to me. Tell her what you've just told me. Let her know that you're here, and that everything is taken care of as far as your physical wellbeing goes. Let her know that you'll call her again when you're ready to come back home." When he got done speaking, I told him I would call Mama. Uncle Bunny did a strange thing then, he hugged me to him. He held me tight, just like Mama did, and when he released me and stepped away, I could see that he was crying. "Kenny, running away and hiding is no way to solve problems. I've done enough of it myself to know."

I watched him get back in his car and drive away. I went back to "Joke Hall" and went upstairs to my apartment. Once I was inside, Jerry asked me if that had been my father. I had to laugh. The way things went in our family, how could you ever know? I got some change for the pay phone off of my dresser, and went out to the hall to call Mama.

"Hello?"

"Gerta, it's Kenny."

"Kenny, are you okay? Are you safe?"

"I'm fine. I need to speak to Mama."

"When I see you again, Kenny, I'm going to slap your face. How could you do this to me and to your Mama? Do you know how worried we've been? I'm going upstairs to tell your Mama you're on the phone. Treat her nice, please. She doesn't need to be yelled at anymore. Do you need a ride? Hans is at that Chiropractor's office, but I could come get you if you're ready to come home before he gets here."

"Gerta, I'm not coming back for awhile. I just wanted Mama to know I was okay. I'm at a pay phone, and I'm running low on change."

"I'll get her, Kenny, you hold on, okay?"

There was a delay of another minute or so, and I'd already had to feed two more quarters into the machine. Then I heard my mother's voice.

"Kenny, thank God you finally called. I'm sorry, Kenny. I'm sorry for everything. No more, I promise you. I won't interfere. Where are you?"

"I'm at school. I walked here Sunday night. I'm sorry too, Mama, for making you worry, but sometimes, you keep pushing me when I ask you not to. I had to get away before it got even worse."

"I understand, really I do. I've done a lot of thinking, Kenny, about why I always seem to get into these types of situations with you. I don't want us to do this anymore. Nothing is worth what we've put each other through."

"I've been thinking too, Mama, and you're absolutely right. I need to stay away for awhile longer, to try to get things settled in my head. I just wanted you to know I was safe, and that I still loved you. You know that don't you Mama, that I love you? I might get mad about things, but never so mad that it changes the fact that I love you."

"You can come home and think here, Kenny. I won't bother you, I promise. I won't let anyone bother you."

"Mama, I can't come home again until I'm ready. I'm not ready yet, but I'm getting closer. Tell Dad I said hello, and that I love him too, okay?"

"Will you call me and let me know how your thinking is going? I'd like for you to stay in touch, Kenny. I'll sleep better knowing we're in some kind of regular contact."

"I'll call you tomorrow night, Mama. I've got to go, I love you."

When I got off the phone, I went back to my room. Ever since I'd come back, Jerry had been telling me I should go back home. I knew he would have liked to change places with me. He probably would have liked to change places with almost anybody. I was glad that my mother didn't ship me off to a school and then totally ignore me. I had to laugh. I'd spent over a decade in an orphanage, and there I was feeling sorry for someone who knew his mother and father, someone who came from a rich family. I wondered if Jerry would like to switch places with who I used to be. I looked around our apartment, and remembered what my life had been like at the orphanage. I stopped feeling so sorry for Jerry.

That night, when I was asleep, I had a weird dream about Brenda and Sister Clara. Emily was in it too, and they were all fighting with each other. I woke up at six o'clock. I needed to go back to the orphanage and speak to Sister Clara. It wasn't just that I wanted to see her, I needed to. There wasn't anything else I wanted or needed more. I got some money and went to the pay phone. I dialed the number at my house, and Gerta answered. I knew she'd be up already. When I told her what I wanted, she sounded doubtful, but said she'd talk to Hans and see if he could come and get me, to drive me up to Bolling. She told me to be ready at nine o'clock. I gave her the number of the pay phone, and went back to my room to dress and go get some breakfast. I was coming back from breakfast when I saw my father parked in front by the flagpole.

"Get in, Kenny. Hans had an appointment with his doctor. I'll drive you over there myself, and pick you up when you're ready to leave." I told him we needed to get a pass to leave campus, but he told me not to worry about any of that. He'd have someone from his office call and smooth things over with the school officials. Twenty five minutes later, we were parked in front of St. Cecelia's. During the drive over, Dad said one thing to me, and that was when he handed me his business card with his private phone line's number on it. "Call me when you're ready to be taken back."

I got out of Dad's car and walked up the orphanage front steps. I'd lost my family by the time I'd come there, as a three year old, but I was coming back in search of them. I wasn't going to be able to appreciate my new family, not until I'd had some questions answered about my old one. One thing I'd learned in the last year, was how to recognize when someone loved you. In my dream the night before, I'd recognized that in Sister Clara, Brenda and Emily. They all loved me. I loved each of them too, although not in the same way, or to the same degree. Sister Clara would have to talk to me.



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Chapter 17

Sister Clara would have to talk to me.

When I opened the front door to go inside, the entrance way was empty. I remembered then it was Thursday, and all the boys old enough were at the school, and the younger ones were in the nursery. I didn't want to try Mother Superior's office, so I went over to the kitchen to say hello to Marie. I found her there, trying to clean up the mess left over from that morning's breakfast. She was happy to see me, and gave me a hug. When I started working in the big double sink, filling one side with hot water and soap, Marie protested a little. When she saw I was determined to help her out, she relented, bringing me several stacks of dishes to begin working on. As we worked, we talked, catching up on how things were going with her. She told me about some of the incidents that had taken place in my absence. There had been several adoptions of younger boys, and two runaways. Only one of the runaways had been caught and returned. The other one was a ten year old boy that I had known, and he had never turned up. He had been gone for two months, and not finding him by then had been unusual. Marie was worried that something bad had happened to him.

I asked about Sister Clara, and Marie told me that she was over at the school, delivering the school records for two new boys. I told Marie what Uncle Bunny had told me about Sister Clara maybe being my real aunt. While we were talking, all of the breakfast dishes got done, and I took the deep metal food trays, from the serving line, out to the delivery landing, so I could clean them too. Marie kept busy inside, wiping down the counters and putting the clean breakfast dishes and silverware away. I left the clean food trays outside to dry, and fixed a mop bucket to do the kitchen floors with. I made the water as hot as my hands could stand it, and then put in the detergent. I liked mopping. When I lived at St. Cecelia's, I used to mop quite a bit. It looked like harder work than it was, and you could keep people away from you by mopping the area between you and them. Sometimes, when I was being punished, I'd mop every floor in the orphanage. I used to polish some of the floors too, but the big power buffer wasn't that much fun to operate. It was old, and it would sometimes get away from me. When I got bigger, that was less of a problem, but it was never as good as mopping was. I could get lost in my mind when I was mopping.

When I was done with the mopping and the rinsing, I took the mop and bucket outside and cleaned them both good. I came back inside the kitchen, and Marie was standing there talking to Mother Superior. As soon as we saw each other, I stopped walking and Mother Superior stopped talking. We had always had this adversarial relationship. She treated me one way in front of strangers or visitors, but when we were alone, or around people she had control over, she treated me differently.

"Kenneth, what are you doing here?" Her tone of voice made it clear she wasn't pleased to see me coming in through the back like I had.

"Hello Mother Superior. I was visiting Sister Clara, but she wasn't here, so I thought I'd give Marie a hand with the breakfast cleanup, while I waited." She took a moment to process what I'd said. I guess she couldn't think of any good reason to be mad at my donating free labor to her, so she let it pass.

"Why did you wish to see Sister Clara, specifically?"

"Because I always liked her, and I wanted to see how she's doing. My parents wanted to find out if she needed anything for the boys."

"Yes, your new parents. They've been very generous to all of us here at St. Cecilia's. I do hope you aren't being a trial to them, Kenneth. You are such a fortunate young man to have been taken into their home. They must be very tolerant people." The way she said that last part, made me angry at her all over again. The two of us always seemed to rub each other the wrong way. I hadn't even been thinking about Mother Superior before this, other than for hoping I didn't have to run into her. After one minute, she had already succeeded in making me mad. She always had that ability with me. This time though, I recognized that she was doing it deliberately. She must have believed that my being angry gave her some advantage over me. Well, if she was trying to make me angry, I had to try not to get angry.

"Thank you Mother. I think it was your prayers that made all of this turn out so good for me. I'm thankful for everything they've given me. You should see my new bedroom suite, it's bigger than this whole kitchen. My mother and father each gave me a million dollars too." I watched her face, hoping to see a reaction from her over the part about the two million. It didn't wait long to show itself either. She frowned at first, then put on her phony smile for me.

"I hope your good fortune inspired you to be grateful, and to use it wisely in the furtherance of our Lord's good works?" I could see the naked greed shining through her smile, and her oily words.

"It does, Mother. That's another reason why I wanted to see Sister Clara, but, if she's busy today, I can go home. Maybe I can get another ride sometime and come back, or, maybe, I'll use this other idea I've had, about Father Flanagan's Boy's Town up in Omaha. We just bought a new company up in Omaha, and I've seen things on the television about Boy's Town."

"I'm sure Sister Clara can spare the time to speak with you, Kenneth. After all, you were always one of her favorites."

"Wasn't I one of your favorites too, Mother?" The way I said it, anyone could see I was just fooling around with her. I really expected her to laugh, and make some kind of smart reply about me being her least favorite. What happened next surprised me.

"I'm not allowed to have favorites, Kenneth. I have to look out for all the boys, to try to do what's best for St. Cecilia's, and for all the souls placed in my care. Unfortunately, I'm only human, with all the weaknesses that condition brings. I treated you more harshly than any of the others, Kenneth, but I did it because you left me no other choice. It was the only way I could justify keeping you with us as long as we did. Did you never wonder why you were the only boy kept here past the age of eleven? In the thirty years I've been at St. Cecelia's, we've kept only two boys past their twelfth birthdays, you and Ronald Barker. What happened with poor Ronald was unfortunate. He had become damaged in ways we never could have anticipated, he had been abused as a youngster, in a group home setting, before coming here to us. There are some boys you can't bear to send away, knowing they have special needs, and thinking that only you can protect them. For me, that was you and Ronald. To answer your question though, no, you were not a favorite, but you were, nevertheless, special to me."

I certainly hadn't felt special, not unless being constantly picked on and punished could be considered special. I can't say that Mother Superior went out of her way to involve herself in my punishments or to rule on any infractions I might have committed, but whenever she did, she was never fair to me. She always took the other side against me. She was right though, I was the oldest, and the biggest, boy at the orphanage, for a very long time. I thought a big part of the reason they kept me had to do with my being able to do so much work at the orphanage. When I looked back at it though, it must have been a lot of trouble to put up with someone as stubborn as I was.

"What was my special need? All I wanted was to be left alone." I didn't make too much effort to disguise the anger I was feeling towards her.

"Kenneth, I've never met a boy as closed off as you were. You pushed everyone away from you, allowing no one to get close. All the other boys had friends, and developed close relationships with one or more of the Sisters here. Who were you ever close to?"

"I was close to some of the boys."

"Name me one boy that you were close to, just one." I thought about what she said, trying to think back to any one special friend. There were boys that I'd played with, or ones that I'd tried to either help or protect, but none I could really remember being close pals with.

"I was always close with Marie." I looked over at Marie then, hoping she would confirm our closeness, but, instead, she was crying. I felt closer to Marie than I did to anyone at the orphanage. I knew then what Mother Superior was saying was true. I remembered the awkward first hug with Marie the day I left. It was the first time we'd touched. It had felt very awkward at the time, because I hadn't touched anyone for years before that, unless it was just accidental contact, or a fight.

"Seeing you now, Kenneth, and the progress you've made since leaving here, I'm forced to question whether I did you any service by keeping you with us for so long. Perhaps, what you really needed was to be gone from here. That isn't what I believed, but perhaps, that is all that was required."

This wasn't the way I thought the conversation was going to end up. I was still pretty certain that my take on Mother Superior was accurate, but I was starting to believe her motive for doing some of the things she did, might have been misinterpreted by me. She was still two faced, and motivated by different things than she pretended.

"When do you suppose Sister Clara will be available for me to talk with?" Mother Superior looked happy that I had chosen to drop our earlier conversational subject, and to get us back on less emotional footing.

"If you'd like to wait here with Marie, I'll go to my office and call over to the school to try to hurry her along. I'm sure she can be here in fifteen minutes or less. You wait right here though, don't leave." Mother Superior hurried off. She was a fairly big woman, given to too much eating, and too little physical exercise. She had to be in her middle fifties, and I knew she suffered from gout and circulation problems.

"Mejo, she's right about how much you've changed since you left here. Before, I always worried about what would happen to you. You were always so alone when you were here. Now, you're different, more comfortable to be around. Before, I liked you, and I really appreciated the way you came to help me all the time. I used to wonder why you kept coming, because you almost never spoke to me, and you didn't seem to care about how people felt about you."

"I liked being in the kitchen, and I still do. You always thanked me for helping you, and you made me those nice breakfasts. I thought we were close. I liked you more than any of the others."

"Kenny, we talked more in half an hour today, than we did for the nine years I've been working here. The only other times we've talked have been when you've come here to visit, since you left. Before, it was like you never cared to talk that much. This new you is a lot happier than the old you was. People here all noticed the difference. You're more like a normal boy now, not so withdrawn all the time."

Sister Clara came into the kitchen then, and stopped inside the doorway.

"Hi, Kenny, Mother said you wanted to see me?" I went over to Marie and gave her a big hug, the kind of hug Mama always gave me. I kissed her on her cheek, and told her I had always liked her a lot, ever since she came there, and started being the cook. I told her the reason I came by and helped her everyday, was because that was how I tried to let her know that I liked her.

I went over to Sister Clara then, and hugged her too. I didn't kiss her, because I knew she wouldn't want me to. Sometimes, the Sisters would kiss a kid, but usually only the smallest ones. Kids weren't supposed to try to kiss them back. She seemed surprised that I'd even try to hug her, but she didn't try to pull away. I told her I'd like to go for a walk with her, and discuss how things were going at the orphanage. We went out the front door, and started walking down the street, towards downtown Bolling. At first, Sister Clara asked me about my parents, wanting to know if we were all getting along good still. I told her things were going well, and that I felt very much a part of my new family. I told her about my new room, and about the school I went to. All the time we're talking, we're still walking towards the downtown shopping area.

"My Uncle Bunny has been looking for my real family, Sister Clara. He's already found my real father, and an aunt of mine. He says my real mother's name is Anne." I watched her face closely, while I said this to her, but she didn't change her expression much. Her face did seem to get a little bit paler, but that might just have been my imagination. She didn't say anything, or make any indication that she'd heard what I'd said. "He told me that you're my aunt." She stopped walking then, looking at me, but still not speaking. "Is he right, are you my aunt?"

"Have you discussed this with Mother Superior, Kenny?"

"About you being my real aunt? No. I wanted to talk to you first. I think my Uncle might be trying to bribe her into giving him information about your family name, and the contact information for some members of your family. He might have told her, but I haven't."

"I would be in serious trouble with the order if it were revealed what I had done in bringing you to St. Cecelia's. I thought it would be for the best, for everyone, at the time. It was only supposed to be temporary, while I waited for Anne to come get you. We didn't know then that Anne wouldn't make a recovery from her injuries. She had been in a car accident, and she was in a coma. I had a friend in the social services department, a woman case worker, who helped me arrange for you to be placed at St. Cecelia's." When Anne didn't recover, it was too late to undo what had already been done. There would have been too many questions. My friend would have been fired, and I would have gotten in a lot of trouble for my part in it."

She had just told me that my real mother was dead. She should have stopped right there. I didn't know my real mother, had no memories of her, but, even so, learning of her death was something that deserved some period of silence. Enough, at least, to allow me to absorb the fact of it. To digest it, and grow accustomed to having one of the pivotal questions of my childhood finally answered. I couldn't begin to count the number of times I'd thought about my mother, speculating about what she was like, or asking myself how she could have given me up. I'd been so angry with her for doing that, always believing deep down inside, that she had simply thrown me away. A thousand thoughts and feelings assaulted my brain at once. I was overwhelmed and overcome. I remember getting ready to scream at Sister Clara, to tell her to please shut up, to let me have some time alone with the idea of my mother's death.

I woke up in a hospital in Bolling. I'd collapsed, emotionally overwrought is what the nurse told me I'd been. She said my reaction wasn't that uncommon with older people, but was pretty unusual in a child. I was almost sixteen years old, and I no longer considered myself a child. I had been unconscious for about three hours. The nurse told me that Sister Clara was in the waiting area, anxiously waiting for me to regain consciousness. She asked me if I felt up to having Sister Clara come in to see me. I told her yes. While the nurse went to get Sister Clara, I tried to think of something I could say to her when she got there. I really wanted to let her know that she had been the cause of my collapse. When she came in, the nurse was with her, so I held off on yelling at her right away. I waited until the nurse left. In the meantime, Sister Clara came over closer to my bed.

"Kenny, what happened to you? You're eyes rolled up and you dropped like a stone. I thought you had epilepsy or something. I was afraid you would go into convulsions."

"You tell me my mother's dead with one breath, and with your next one, you're worrying about getting into trouble, or your friend being fired."

"Anne's not dead! I didn't say she was dead. She just hasn't recovered. She is in what they refer to as a persistent vegetative state, but she isn't dead. She's living at home with our mother."

"Where does your mother live?"

"In Ridgeline, where we've always lived. Anne doesn't know anyone, or even where she is, Kenny. She's completely oblivious to her surroundings, or to the greater world around her."

I asked her where my clothes were, but she told me I had to stay in bed until the doctor came back to examine me. I couldn't be released until the doctor said so.

"I need to get my Dad's business card, so I can call him to come get me. I want to go home now."

"Do you want me to try to find it and call him, Kenny? I need to be getting back before Mother starts worrying about where I've gotten off to. My mother's house is over on Grafton Street, 122 Grafton. Her name is Mildred Coulter. My father is dead, his name was Alan Coulter. Please try not to think badly of me, Kenny. Whatever I did, I did it because it was the best I could think of doing for you."

She went into the closet and found my clothes, going through my pockets until she found Dad's card. She promised not to leave until she got in contact with him. I watched her as she went out the door. I had much better feelings towards her before I discovered that she was my real aunt. She lived at the orphanage too, and she knew what it had been like there for me. I wondered what my life would have been like if she had treated me like a nephew, letting me know about my real mother, and how I had come to be at St. Cecelia's.

My father came to the hospital about half an hour after Sister Clara left my room. By then, the doctor had come in and asked me a few questions. He wanted to make sure I wasn't injured, and that I remembered everything, both from before and after I'd passed out. By the time my Dad came, the hospital was ready to release me to anyone who would sign papers taking responsibility for the charges for the ambulance that brought me there, and for the hospital and doctor charges. My dad must have done all of that, because as soon as he came in and saw that I was all right, he told me to get dressed because we were leaving.

After we were out of the hospital and in his car, I told him everything I'd learned. I told him about how mad I was at Sister Clara, and why. That's when he stopped me. His central argument was that it had all happened that way for a good reason. He told me I should think about where I was then, and be glad that I had been at St. Cecelia's, just the right age, and available when Uncle Bunny started searching for a son or daughter for Mama. I thought about what he said, and it was true, as far as it went. I thought about how different I might have turned out if I had known the circumstances of how I came to be at St. Cecelia's in the first place. Maybe I would have been more normal acting, and could have let myself get adopted when I was five or six and there was interest in adopting me. Interest that I did everything in my power to discourage. I had made myself unlovable, thinking that I'd been abandoned and discarded once. I wasn't going to let that happen to me twice. If I said anything like that though, Dad would think I was being ungrateful for what I now had.

"You're right, and I'm glad at how things finally turned out. I know how lucky I am now. It would have been a lot easier for me to be a better son though, if I hadn't always believed my mother threw me away. That changed me, making me how I am."

"I already told you about my mother, Kenny, and the way her drinking affected me. I understand what you're saying. We both took bad situations and turned them to our advantage. I became driven to succeed, and willing to work as hard as it took to realize my goals. I had a need to excel, and it was partly because of the feelings I had about myself, because of the way I viewed my mother's problems. You've got a unique way of thinking about problems, a way that discounts emotional complications. You tend to look for pragmatic solutions, ones that don't need to be held hostage to any extraneous considerations."

"Give me an example of what you mean."

"Sunday night is a perfect example. Your leaving, rather than continuing a discussion you didn't wish to have about Brenda. It was practical, and it solved the immediate problem. I admired the way you handled yourself then. It was also the only solution that could have gotten you what you wanted. I wouldn't have dared it, but you did, and it worked. Bunny and I both learned something from that."

"Give me a different example. That wasn't what I intended. I was just running away."

"Very well. The first time you brought Bertie back from one of her mental withdrawals. You knew what she needed. You knew it without really thinking. You acted, instinctively, not worrying that what you were doing might complicate her mental state."

"I was worried, but not about making her worse. I was worried about no one else being there to let her know they wanted her to come back. You're wrong about it not being an emotional complication though. Her whole illness is an emotional complication. The part that's real, and the part she fakes. I think the real part started when Mrs. Connor took Uncle Bunny away from her, but the fake part is her trying to get you to tell her you love her. She loves you. She felt guilty about loving Uncle Bunny, but she feels anger that you don't love her."

"I already told you, Kenny, I can't help that. It simply is the way I'm wired. I'm not a believer in romantic love."

"You aren't a believer in emotional commitment. You already love her. Everybody knows that already, except for you and her. She isn't your mother. She isn't going to use your love for her against you. You'll never be her equal, not until you realize you love her as much as she loves you."

"I don't believe this, and yet, I admire the way you were able to present it, as though it were a proven fact. You see it as a solution, but you discount the emotional complications that this presents for me. I've never once deceived Bertie, about my feelings for her, or about my emotional limitations. She respects me for being honest with her."

"She respects you as a proven multiplier of her money. She is willing to wait around hoping you'll finally love her, because while she's waiting, you're bringing in more money for her. You think producing the earnings, for her and Uncle Bunny, will always be enough, but I think you're wrong. Now that Mrs. Connor has separated from Mr. Connor, something might happen to the way Mama thinks about Uncle Bunny. She already knows he loves her. Maybe she'll start thinking about how it was before."

"That makes no sense to me, Kenny, you need to explain it better."

"Sure. You know that Mrs. Connor is Uncle Bunny and Mama's sister, right?" The look on my Dad's face almost made me laugh. He started spluttering and began sentences five or six times before he stopped, changing his mind about what he was going to say.

"She isn't!" He finally found his voice.

"Half sister, anyway. Mama's dad made her pregnant. and that's why Mama's mother committed suicide, because Mrs. Connor's other father told her about it. He brought Mrs. Connor over to the house when he did it. The next day, Mama's mother drowned herself. Brenda's also Uncle Bunny's real daughter. He had his vasectomy reversed, two years after you two had it done together."

"You're lying. Bunny would have told me. We don't have those kind of secrets from each other." Dad was shaken by all this new information. He was only driving at about twenty five miles an hour. Normally, he'd be doing at least seventy five, through this part of the trip. "Bertie would have said something. Besides, why does Georgia leaving Walt have anything to do with my marriage?"

"Uncle Bunny loved Mrs. Connor more than he loved Mama, and besides, Mama didn't know Mrs. Connor was her sister. Up until now, Mama's been faithful to you, because the only other man she had ever loved was unavailable."

"You're saying she loves Walt? She can barely stand him."

"You're smart about a lot of things, but not about people. I meant Uncle Bunny. If Mrs. Connor is his sister and he's been doing her for all these years, then maybe Mama will start to believe she made a mistake by letting Uncle Bunny go, without a fight, to Mrs. Connor. If she thinks you don't love her, I wouldn't blame her either."

"She'd never do such a thing." When he said it, I wondered who he was trying to convince, him or me? I didn't think Mama would ever go to Uncle Bunny, but Dad needed to see some immediacy for his need to act. I had grown tired of watching him tiptoe past doing what needed doing. He'd waited a lot longer than he should have to tell her. It might be different, if there was any doubt at all that he really did love her, but there wasn't. Sometimes, you just needed to say the words. He needed to say them. Getting him to do so was going to be my apology, to Mama, for the trouble I'd been putting her through.

"Telling her would be a pragmatic decision, Dad. I've also got a feeling that it would reduce some of those emotional complications, the ones that keep you from doing your best work."

"I'm already doing my best work."

"So, you never worry about Mama, or take time from thinking about the company to worry if she's all right, or going to be all right?"

"Are you saying she'd never get sick if I told her I loved her?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I don't think her depressions would be as bad or as often, and I think her withdrawals would be less severe. That isn't the main reason why you should tell her though. You should tell her because it happens to be true. After all these years, both of you deserve to realize it. There is no shame in loving your own wife. You better let her know it soon too, because if you don't, someone else might tell her he does. As long as Mrs. Connor was married, Uncle Bunny didn't have to choose. They're both his sisters, so I don't think that would stop him."

"Kenny, I know Bertie and Bunny well enough to know that would never happen. I still don't know why you keep insisting that I do love her. How can you be so sure?"

"You either love her, or else you're her trained slave. Why do you work so hard? You obviously don't care that much for money. Most of the money you make goes to them anyway. I saw how you were when she was sick, how much you worried. Instead of asking me how come I'm so sure, you should ask yourself why you're so sure you don't."

"Now you've got me worried about going home. You're sure about Georgia being Senior's daughter?"

"Mama's sure, and Uncle Bunny thinks so too. Both of them told me that. Do you know where Grafton Street is in Ridgeline?"

"Sure. There aren't that many streets in town. What's over on Grafton?"

"My real grandmother, and the woman who gave me birth."

"Really, you know this? Sister Clara confirmed this? What a coincidence that they happen to live in Ridgeline. It's a small world, isn't it?"

"Minuscule. My real birth father, he only lives down the street from our house. Jerome Carstairs. Uncle Bunny was the one who figured everything out for me."

"Curiously, once you accept the fact that your other mother comes from Ridgeline, having the father be someone local isn't that much of a surprise." Do you have the street address on Grafton? And, are you sure you're ready to go there?"

"122 Grafton, and yes, I'm sure. I've waited a long time to see them."

When we got there, the house was pretty small. The yard was overgrown with weeds, and the black topped driveway was worn away. Nothing about the place seemed well tended. Even the ugly green paint on the house was old and peeling. The screen door on the front of the house was hanging open at a weird angle, and I could see the top part of the screen door had come loose.

I got out of the car, and was surprised to see my Dad come with me. We both climbed up the small concrete stairs to the door. I knocked, and then stepped back, away from the door. From inside, I heard a woman's voice yelling at me that she was coming. When she opened the door, I was looking at a gray haired woman in her late fifties. She reminded me at first of Elizabeth, then I realized this meant she probably looked a little bit like me too.

"Are you Mildred Coulter?"

"Yes, who are you? If you're here about the newspaper, I told that boy to stop delivering it because I don't have the time anymore to keep reading it."

"I know your daughter, Sister Clara. She gave me your name and address. My name is Kenny Parsons, and I'm your grandson."

I don't know what kind of reaction I was expecting, but I was expecting something besides what I got, which was none.

"I don't have any grandsons, or granddaughters either. You saying Clara sent you here? Why would she do that?"

"She said my mother lives here too, Anne?"

"This isn't funny." She looked over at Dad. "Who are you supposed to be, Anne's long lost husband?"

"I'm Tom Parsons, Kenny's current father. My wife and I adopted him a few months ago. He wanted to come here, so I brought him."

"Well, I don't know what you're trying to pull, either of you. My daughter Anne did have a son, but he was lost in that car wreck she had. I went to his funeral myself. His name was Kenny, too, but he died when he was three." The whole time she was talking though, she was studying my face. She then came outside on the steps with me, and looked me over in better light. "Take off your shirt and turn around." As soon as she said that, I knew what she was wondering about. In the middle of my back I had a small red wine colored mark that was about the size of a golf ball. It was a birthmark I'd had all my life. When I was little, some kids liked to tease me about it. I didn't notice it anymore, and no one had commented about it in years. I took off my shirt and turned my back to her. A few seconds later, I felt her hand touching me where I knew my birth mark was located.

I turned around, and she stepped quickly back inside the house. She was looking at me with more suspicion than before I'd taken off the shirt.

"Where did you meet Clara?"

"At St. Cecelia's, where she brought me thirteen years ago. Whose funeral did you go to?"

"I'm not sure now. I thought it was my grandson's funeral. It was for the man Anne had been with, and one of his children, and Kenny. They told us his other son was in the hospital, he was hurt in the crash too, his head. We didn't know who that man was, or why Anne and Kenny were in that car with him. If you're Kenny, that man's children must have both died with him. Why wouldn't Clara tell me that? If she brought you to the orphanage with her, she must have known who you really were."

"I think she was hoping that Anne would recover. That's what she told me. She never told me that you thought I was dead."

"Clara and I don't get along well. She blames me for a lot of what happened, for sending Anne away when she turned up pregnant. My brother and his wife were living and working in Detroit back then. Anne was supposed to have the baby, let someone adopt it, and then come back here to finish her schooling. She was always a wild one, never doing what she was supposed to. Stubborn, stubborn girl. And this is what comes of that kind of stubbornness."

"Can I see her? I don't remember her."

"She isn't in there, Kenny. All that's left is her body. Her mind has already gone to heaven. Every night I pray that the Lord will come for the rest of her. What she has now is no kind of life. I keep waiting, but she keeps hanging on. They told us at the hospital that she might last a year or two. Said she'd start having breathing or eating problems. That was thirteen years ago, and she's still here, and she still eats whatever I put in her mouth, she can still chew and bite too. Other than snoring at night, she's never had a problem with her breathing. She's only thirty three years old, and now the doctors are telling me I'll have to make provisions in case she outlives me."

"I still want to see her." I was getting curious about this woman who was supposed to be my mother. The story this woman was telling me sounded pretty implausible. I looked over at Dad, but he was looking at Mrs. Coulter. Finally, he said something to her.

"Didn't you use to come over to our apartment? My mother's name was Rose Parsons. We lived over on 3rd Street. My mother used to call you Babe."

"No one's called me Babe for thirty years or more. I remember a woman named Rose that lived over on 3rd. She's been dead a long time. We worked string beans together over at Barney Collins place. She liked to take a drink once in awhile. Was that your mother?"

"Yes, I remember you. You had three daughters, and your husband had a gimpy leg. You used to like to take a drink too, and so did your husband."

"Well, I think you and Kenny should wait, and come back another time. That way, it would give me a chance to have Anne looking presentable for you. I could brush out her hair and put on one of her nice hospital gowns. She wouldn't want you to see her if she didn't look her best."

"I can have Ken Dyer here in ten minutes, Babe. Are you sure you want that kind of trouble. Either let us in right now, or you'll be facing a constable's investigation, in a lot less time than it will take you to get her ready for visitors." I found out later that Ken Dyer was the local police presence in Ridgeline. My father was threatening my grandmother by telling her he could have the police investigate her? Whatever it was, she stood back from the door, and he and I walked through. The house actually looked better on the outside. It smelled better too. We found my birth mother in the second bedroom. She was sitting up in a chair, oblivious to the world. Not in a coma, but by the smell of her, in a drunken stupor. She was wearing a worn house robe, and some cheap, step in slippers.

Mrs. Coulter was standing in the doorway, behind us, watching nervously, as my father went over to examine Anne Coulter. He shook her by the arm, gently at first, then more insistently, until she pulled her arm out of his grasp and mumbled something incoherent at him. My father turned to me and smiled.

"Good news, Kenny, your mother has come out of her thirteen year coma. She must have gotten herself shit faced, to celebrate her miraculous recovery. How much does the County pay you, Babe, to feed and care for her? I can go back and check the hospital records too, and I'll find out who else was in on this with you. Somebody's going to go to prison for this one."

"Why are you bothering us? None of this is any of your business. Go away and leave an old woman, and her poor daughter in peace."

"Was there any insurance involved? How much did you collect for Kenny, after you made the switch? No matter, I'm sure the police will be able to find out from the insurance company." As he was talking, my Dad took my arm, and started me out of the bedroom, and towards the front door.

"Wait! What do you want? Most of the money is already gone. What we've got left is the social security pension, and a small annuity trust set up for Anne. We're just barely getting by ourselves. We saw our chance, and we took it. Those people were already dead. Kenny couldn't even talk yet, there was something wrong with him. He had fallen on his head, and we were taking him in to get him checked on. We just happened onto the wreck, and we just had an idea on how we could make some money from it. Clara got wind of what we were doing somehow, when he was ready to leave the hospital, she took Kenny away with her."

"Have your daughter sober and alert at ten tomorrow morning so that Kenny gets a chance to meet her. I'll let him decide after, what he wants us to do." We left right after that, heading over to our house. I didn't know what to think about what I'd seen.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 18


On the drive back to the house, my head was awash with thoughts and worries. I also felt a deep anger, one that was somewhat irrational, because my mother really hadn't known that I would pick that particular day to step back into her life. What wasn't irrational, was the anger I felt from knowing that both she and my grandmother had purposely abandoned me in a greedy bid for some undeserved insurance money. They had scammed an insurance carrier by purposely switching my identity with that of a dead child, counting on my head injury preventing me from correctly identifying myself to the authorities.

As soon as I walked in the door, Mama had me wrapped in one of her tight hugs. She was there for me, and she had never given me away. I hugged her back, telling her that I was sorry for causing her to worry. I saw Hans and Gerta peeking out of the kitchen door that led to the dining room. I waved to them and smiled, but, my mind was in such turmoil that I couldn't force myself to participate in the social obligations surrounding my return home.

I begged off from further conversation with Mama, telling her that I'd had a difficult day and needed to be alone. I saw Grace and Jane coming down the stairs, both of them acting surprised and pleased to see me again. Dad got me loose from needing to stay there to be greeted by everyone and having to answer more questions.

"Bertie, let Kenny go up and rest, He was just released from the hospital less than two hours ago, and his physician said he needs to lie down somewhere that's dark and quiet. If he's feeling better, we'll see him for dinner. There are also some startling developments that I can better explain to you in private." My mother seemed shocked and concerned when Dad mentioned my hospital stay, but when he used the phrase 'startling developments', my mother took a step backwards, looking at Dad rather than me. For my father to use that phrase, it had to be something startling. As a general rule, he tended to understate things rather than exaggerate them.

I excused myself and went up to my room. Inside, I sat down on my bed and tried to make sense and order of the things I'd learned, and of the three women most responsible for my being alive, and for the twelve years I'd spent at St. Cecelia's. The woman, Anne Coulter, that I'd seen slumped over in a drunken stupor, had thrown me away like some unwanted garbage. Her mother seemed even more callous. And yet, and this was the part I was having trouble accepting, they were both a part of me. The blood that ran through my veins was, in large part, theirs. I hated them both, but I wanted and needed to hear from them, everything they could tell me about my birth, and those lost first years of mine. The hate part had been festering from my first awareness in the orphanage. Somehow, I had always known that I had been thrown away. I had felt like I'd been discarded. It was one thing to feel like that, and quite another to find out it was true.

I didn't make it down for dinner. The phone rang several times, but I didn't answer it. There wasn't any point to my answering it. I had nothing I could say to anyone that would explain what I was experiencing. I didn't know it at the time, but Mama, Dad, and Uncle Bunny were all huddled together in the library, trying to figure out the best way for them to handle this situation for me. Uncle Bunny assured my parents that there were no legal claims that any of the Coulter's had on me. I had been a ward of the County, and my adoption had been approved and recorded in the County records. I might have some legal recourse against them, but Uncle Bunny doubted it was worth the time and trouble to pursue it.

I spent a restless night, unable to quiet my racing mind enough to really fall into any kind of sound sleep. I'd doze off for awhile, but then, I'd just snap back to full awareness when my mind started processing some of my unconscious thoughts. At seven the next morning, my phone rang again, and this time, I answered it. It was Gerta wanting to know if I felt well enough to come down for breakfast. She told me that she was alone in the kitchen, and that she'd be happy to make me anything I wanted to eat. I realized then just how hungry I was, and told her I'd throw on some clothes, and come right down.

Gerta wasted no time in letting me know that she already knew about me finding my real mother. "Kenny, forget her. You don't need to bother yourself about people who act like that. You belong here, with us, now. Bunny told me what happened to you yesterday. I should go over there and smack some good sense into that woman."

"Gerta, we don't know yet why she did it. Dad's taking me back there today to talk to her. I don't want anything from her, other than an explanation about why she did what she did."

"It doesn't matter why. You think she'd tell you the truth, Kenny? She'll just try to tell you some story so you'll feel sorry for her."

"Gerta, I have to go talk to her. I've wanted to do that for so long. I don't expect her to volunteer the truth, but, maybe, I can talk to her enough so that I can start to understand the kind of person she is. Yesterday, she didn't say anything. Her mother did all the talking. She tried to keep us from seeing my mother."

"SHE'S NOT YOUR MOTHER, KENNY, I AM!" I turned to see Mama standing by the door, a look on her face hard for me to describe. She seemed horrified that I'd referred to that other woman as my mother. I stood up and went to her and gave her a hard, tight, hug.

"I know that Mama. Don't you worry, because I know that, and I feel the same way as you do. You're my mother, but she's still something to me, biologically at least. She threw me away, and I need to find out why she did it."

"Let Bunny send over his investigator's, Kenny. That's what he recommends. After they find out everything, you'll be able to read their report, everything."

"I wish I could do that, Mama, but, I just can't. I need to be there in front of her, and hear the words from her own lips. I need to know what was more important to her than me. I won't be able to move on until I talk to her and find out some things."

Mama must have been able to see how serious and determined I was about this, because she sat down at the table and ordered up some coffee, and one of Gerta's German sweet rolls. I sat back down and waited for Gerta to serve Mama before starting on the breakfast I'd asked her for. I had half a pound of bacon and six eggs over easy. I also had four slices of buttered toast, and two big glasses of milk.

My father had taken a day off of work to go back with me to the house on Grafton Street. We were both quiet on the drive over there. When we had parked and were walking towards the house, my father told me to try to relax before going inside.

"Kenny, don't expect too much from her. She won't be at her best today. I know you must have a thousand questions you want to ask her today, but she probably won't be able to think clearly enough to give you meaningful answers. From the look I got of her yesterday, she has a very serious drinking problem, probably one that has been going on for many years. You'll need to be patient with her, and repeat things that you say. Her mind isn't used to processing information probably. It might take some effort on your part to get any useful answers from her."

I looked at my father. I knew he was remembering his own mother, and the things he'd had to do when he wanted to talk with her. I felt pretty confident that he had my best interests in mind, and I felt grateful to him for coming with me. It wasn't hard to see the emotional discomfort he was going through to be there with me. We knocked on the door, and my grandmother answered right away. She opened the door and waved us inside, but not before looking up and down the street to make sure that we had come there alone. She looked very nervous. It was dark in the house, with the shades and curtains all drawn. In the living room, Anne Coulter was sitting up on the sofa. She was wearing a dress with floral prints. It was dark blue and the flowers were red and green. She had on the same worn step in slippers she'd been wearing when we saw her before. Her hair was freshly brushed, and you could tell she had been made up by someone. There was a noticeable tremble in the hand that she had rested on the arm of the sofa, and the one in her lap was holding on to some of the material from her dress. She looked very sick, and more than a little scared too.

"Are you Anne Coulter?" I asked her when I had stopped about five feet in front of her.

"Yes." Her voice was soft sounding, and it reminded me a little of Sister Clara's voice.

"Do you know who I am?" I moved a little closer, forcing her to look up at my face.

"My mother told me you're my Kenny, my son. I'm sorry, Kenny, but I really don't feel good. I need something to drink." She was turning her head, looking first to her mother, then to me, and finally, at my father. She sounded very miserable and needy. I hadn't come there to torment her, just to get some answers to my questions.

"Do you have something not too strong? Maybe a glass of wine, or a beer?" My dad was asking that of my grandmother. She nodded that she did, and went off to a room I assumed was the kitchen. She was back in a minute, with a jelly jar containing about eight ounces of a yellowish drink. It looked more like wine than beer, because there was no foam at the top. She handed the jar to my father, which I thought was strange. She must have known he meant the drink for her daughter. He took the jar from her though and took it over to my mother. Instead of handing it to her, he put the jar to her lips and tilted it up enough so that she could get a sip of it. She drank it thirstily, and was very disappointed when he took it from her lips, even though there was still half of it remaining in the jar. "We'll take it nice and slow, Anne. Answer some of Kenny's questions, and I'll give you another sip."

"Who's my father? Is it Jerome Carstairs?" She reacted to his name, but she didn't lift her head up to look at me. Instead, she eyed the half full jar of wine that my Dad was holding in his lowered hand. All of her attention and focus was on that glass.

"I need another small sip, please?"

"I told you that you need to answer some questions first. He wants to know the name of his father."

"I don't know. I went out with different boys."

"He asked about Jerome Carstairs. Did you sleep with him too?"

"Mr. Carstairs, the English teacher? I never said I slept with him." My father looked over at my grandmother. She looked back at him and my mother kept looking at the wine. I watched as my father tilted the glass so that about an ounce of the wine spilled on the dirty carpet in the living room. "NO! Please! I'm not supposed to mention his name. That was part of the settlement for the annuity."

"I'm not here to make trouble for Jerome Carstairs, Anne. If you want something to drink, you have to answer Kenny's questions. If you don't answer, or if you lie, I'll spill out the rest of the wine and then I'll give Ken Dyer a call and let him dry you out before asking these same questions. One way or another, we're going to get the truth from you."

"I don't know who the father was. It could have been any of the five or six guys I knew around then."

"Why did Jerome Carstairs give you an annuity?"

"Because I was only sixteen years old. It's only for one hundred dollars a month. It was so I wouldn't say anything when they came around asking me all those questions. Look, I'm sick. I really need that drink now." My father put the drink to her lips and she finished off the last three ounces in the jar, greedily. When she was done, my father handed the glass to my grandmother, telling her to fill it again. He waited for her to get back with the refilled jar.

"If you want more to drink, explain to Kenny about the accident, and how he came to find himself in an orphanage." My Dad had started using the voice of authority with her, letting her know that her not cooperating wasn't an option. I had a definite sick feeling inside, watching her stare fixedly at that jar of wine my Dad was holding in front of her. Her focus was not on me, there was no curiosity on her part. To her, I was just some stranger, one who stood between her and another glass of wine. I couldn't stand to be a part of anymore of that. I left the house, knowing that she wouldn't ever be able to answer any of the important questions. If anyone could answer them, it would be me.

I was sitting in my father's car when he came back outside five minutes later. My head was down, trying to shield my face from his, not wanting him to see me crying. I felt the weight shift of him getting inside the car, and then felt his hand reaching over to give my knee a squeeze. When I looked up, he was crying too.



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Chapter 19

We drove home again in silence. I was upset with myself for fleeing the Coulter house, but, at the same time, vastly relieved not to still be there. It was obvious to me that Anne Coulter had serious problems. It seemed obvious also, that the drinking was more a symptom of her problems, rather than the actual problem. She was still a relatively young woman.

"Dad, can we drive over to Uncle Bunny's office? I need to see him about the Coulter's."

"Maybe you should take a few days to reflect on it, Kenny. You don't want to initiate anything that you'll regret later. Those people are already leading miserable lives."

"I know that. I don't want to sue them or anything. I feel sorry for both of them. I want to see if Uncle Bunny can do anything to help them out." My dad looked over at me for a minute, before making a right turn at the next corner, and heading over to Uncle Bunny's office. When we got there, both of us went inside. Uncle Bunny's secretary waved us right into his office, as soon as we came through the front door. When he saw us, Uncle Bunny stood up from behind his desk and approached us with a questioning smile on his face.

"Tommy and Kenny. What can I do for you two today?" For any lawyer, people coming to see him must have usually meant more business. For relatives, it usually meant more business, but with little prospect for being paid. Still, Uncle Bunny seemed happy to see us.

"Uncle Bunny, you said you'd set up a trust for the money that Mama and Dad gave me?"

"That's correct, Kenny. Do you need some money?"

"I'm not sure yet. I want you to represent me with the Coulter's."

"You want to file suit against them, or press criminal charges?"

"No, neither of those. I want to try to help them. You might need to use the threat of that against them, to get them to do what I want. I want both of them to get checked out by a competent doctor. Anne Coulter will probably need to be hospitalized, to get her to quit drinking. I'm not sure about Anne's mother. I also want to hire some people to fix up their house. It smells really bad in there, and nothing is being taken care of. The outside needs to be painted and all the screens on the windows need to be replaced. Someone should fix up their yard too. I'd like to get someone hired to look after them, to make sure they're getting the right food to eat."

"Kenny, you can't force people to change their behavior. You'd need their permission before you did any of these things. It would be expensive too. The money you were given was for you, to make you feel comfortable with having money. It is never a good time to spend your principal. There is income already that you can spend, but probably not enough yet to do all of this. Perhaps you should start slow?"

"Uncle Bunny, this is something I need to do. They threw me away, but I never want to be anything like them. I can't help being worried about what's going to happen to them. I'd be doing this for my own peace of mind. Now that I've seen how they live, I realize they did me a favor by throwing me away. That might not have been why they did it, but that's how it has turned out. I want you to go see Sister Clara too, and see if she has anything she wants or needs."

I saw Uncle Bunny and Dad looking at each other. It looked like Uncle Bunny was waiting for my dad to give his approval of my request. I looked over at my father too, and saw him nod his head affirmatively at my uncle. Uncle Bunny seemed surprised at my father's approval, but he kept silent. We spoke for several more minutes, with Uncle Bunny repeating the tasks I'd asked him to handle for me. My father reminded Uncle Bunny that both the Coulter's were afraid of any police contact because of the insurance fraud, and possible other transgressions.

"Bunny, do what you can to convince them to cooperate fully. If they refuse, I'll go see Ken Dyer, and have him go out to ask them a few questions. He still owes me some favors, and I'm sure he'd cooperate with us on this. His mother and mine were drinking buddies when we were kids. We both watched what the prolonged drinking did to them."

Uncle Bunny had taken some notes while we had been talking. He said he'd get right on it, and would be over for dinner soon, to let us know how he was progressing. When we left, he walked us out to Dad's car. On the way out, Uncle Bunny started discussing the cost overruns on the lodge over at the golf learning center. Mama kept making changes in the plans that made it more expensive for the contractor to build it. Dad said he'd have another talk with her, but neither of them looked like they believed it would do any good.

Back at home, I sat down in the kitchen with Mama, Gerta and Hans, filling them in on what had taken place at the meeting, and telling them of my decision concerning aiding the Coulter's. Mama didn't say anything about me helping them out, but Gerta made it known right away that she was against me having anything further to do with them. I didn't try to explain or to justify my decision to her. I wasn't sure that it was the right thing to do myself. I just knew I'd feel better if I did it.

Elizabeth came into the kitchen from somewhere in the interior of the house. "Did Gerta tell you yet, Kenny?" She looked over at Gerta angrily.

"Tell me what?" I hadn't seen Elizabeth since before I left a week ago.

"She's given me two weeks to find another job and a new place to live. Just because of Aunt Mildred and Cousin Anne. How is any of that my fault? I hardly know them." I looked over at her again, everything finally clicking into place for me. She looked like me because we were related. She was my second cousin. Mama, Elizabeth, and I were all staring at Gerta after that information. Gerta got up from where she'd been sitting and turned away, walking over to the refrigerator.

"Gerta, is this true?" I found it hard to believe that Gerta would fire Elizabeth because she was my relative.

"We don't need anyone here now. I can take care of your mama and do my other work. You don't need to always be reminded of those people. She would always remind you of them."

"Gerta, that's crazy talk. I'm a closer relative to them than she is. Are you going to ask me to leave too?"

"No, of course not, but she's different. You belong here, you're family."

"Gerta, if I'm family, then she's family too. She's my cousin. Those people, they're my family too. You can't change that by pretending they aren't." I looked over at Mama. She seemed uncertain about anything that was taking place there in the kitchen. "Mama, tell Gerta this isn't right. She shouldn't fire Elizabeth just because we're related to each other."

"Kenny, I've always left the household staff up to Gerta. This is her decision to make, and I won't overrule her." I stared at Mama. It was obvious to me now that she felt the same way Gerta did. Whatever her words, by not interfering, she gave her approval to what Gerta had done. I took a minute to think about this. I might not like the decision, but I couldn't claim they both didn't have the right to make it. I made up my mind quickly.

"I'm sorry Elizabeth. It isn't my place to interfere with their decision. Let me speak with my Uncle Bunny, and we'll find a good place for you. What kind of work do you like to do?"

"In North Carolina, I worked in a pet store. I liked working with the animals, but it doesn't pay anything. I worked for the Simpson's, over at the feed store, but I didn't like it." Her voice had little inflection to it. I wondered if she was smoking marijuana before she came in.

"Uncle Bunny has room over at his house, maybe you could take care of him. Do you think you'd like that?"

"Take care of him, how?"

"Keep his house clean, do the cooking, make sure all his dirty clothes get washed, or sent out to the cleaners."

"No funny business?"

"He's a nice guy, how much funny business were you hoping for?" Gerta and Mama laughed at that, but Elizabeth didn't seem to think it was very funny.

"I'm not going to be that kind of a live in, Kenny. If that was what you were expecting." Elizabeth was serious. I wondered why she would think that of any of us. I'd never given her any reason to think that of me. Maybe Gerta told her stories about Bea and I, or Bea and Uncle Bunny, and she just assumed we thought it was part of her job description.

"Elizabeth, I don't think anyone expects those kinds of services from you. I don't even know if Uncle Bunny wants anyone over at his house. I was trying to find something that wouldn't be too hard, and where you could have a nice place to live too. If you start out with a chip on your shoulder, no one is going to want to hire you. Do you want me to ask him, or not?"

"I guess so. I can always quit, right?"

"Yes. We're also looking for someone to look after your Aunt and Cousin. Would you rather work for them?"

"No! I don't like them. We've never had much to do with them. They were my dad's relatives. No offense to you, Kenny."

"None taken. I don't know them either, except for Sister Clara, and she was nice to me."

"Donna is okay, but Clara left for the convent when I was around eight years old. I see Donna in town sometimes, and we always say hi to each other. How old is your uncle, Kenny?"

"He's forty eight I think, and he's single too. He's an attorney. You might be too old for him. His last girlfriend was nineteen years old."

"What about my smoking?"

"You have to ask him, Elizabeth. If it were cigarettes, I'm sure he'd have no problem, as long as you didn't smoke indoors. I've never seen you smoke regular cigarettes, so I guess you meant smoking marijuana?"

"That's what I meant. I'm not going to work for him if he gets all uptight over a little smoke."

Gerta and Mama laughed again. Uncle Bunny had gone through a phase when he was younger, where he smoked marijuana too. I didn't tell Elizabeth what they were laughing about. If Uncle Bunny wanted to tell her, he would. I excused myself and went up to my room to phone my uncle. I got him just as he was leaving for lunch. At first, he thought I was calling him to see what progress he'd made with the Coulter's, but I quickly assured him that this was a new problem I was calling about. I explained the situation, and Uncle Bunny had already met Elizabeth and was aware of her marijuana smoking.

"Kenny, I don't want any live in help. I value my privacy. I'll look around to see if anyone I know is looking for a live in housekeeper and cook, but I doubt that I'll find anything for her."

"I hate to bring this up, Uncle Bunny, but you really have to do this for me. All I'm asking is that you give her a fair trial."

"Why do I have to do this?"

"Do you remember what you promised me that time I helped Mama come out of her withdrawal?" There was a pause on the line, a lengthy pause, before Uncle Bunny replied again.

"That isn't how family treats each other, Kenny. I'm disappointed in you."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Uncle Bunny. She's being fired because Mama doesn't want to be reminded that she's a blood relative of mine. She's already had a lot of bad stuff happen to her, and she doesn't deserve this. You're the only one I can turn to. I'm not demanding it because of what you promised that time. I'm only asking, but it's very important to me. Remember when I helped you out with Bea? I did it because you asked me to. She asked me how old you are. She knows you're rich, and she's seen you in person. She's twenty eight years old, and her husband has been dead for a few years now. She doesn't date."

"Kenny, what am I going to do with you? Okay, I'll give her a month's trial, but that's all I'm promising you. Don't fill her head about that other nonsense. She isn't Bea. I had an instant attraction to Bea. Elizabeth isn't like that."

"Do you have a nice bedroom for her over at your house?"

"I've got six other bedrooms besides my own. I'm sure she'll find something that she can put up with."

"She makes two hundred a week plus room and board. She's a good cook, but not as good as Gerta."

"I'm sure I can manage her salary Kenny. She doesn't have to be as good a cook as Gerta. It would be nice if she were a better cook than me though."

"Are you a good cook, Uncle Bunny?"

"No."

"When can she start?"

"She can move in this weekend. Tell Bertie to give her my key and the directions to my house. Are we playing golf tomorrow? I've been working on my short game for the past two weeks, and I'm anxious to take some of my money back from you bandits."

"I hope so. I'll give you five a side, since you were so accommodating on this." We hung up the phone, but not before Uncle Bunny assured me that he wasn't really disappointed in me for the way I approached him to hire Elizabeth.

When I went back downstairs, Gerta and Elizabeth were yelling at each other. They were fighting about the best way to cook pasta. Again, it came down to how much salt to add, and when to add it. Mama was sitting there, enjoying the argument, and a big bowl of lemon sherbet that Elizabeth had made earlier.

"Elizabeth, you can move over to Uncle Bunny's this weekend when we're playing golf. Mama, Uncle Bunny asked me to have you give her his house keys. You get the same pay as here, Elizabeth, but you have to do more work. I asked Uncle Bunny about funny business, but he said he didn't think he wanted to just hand over an important fringe benefit like that to a new hire. Maybe after you've been there for a year, and if he really likes your cooking."

"You didn't tell him that."

"I didn't have to. Do you think you're the first girl who pretended to be a cook and a housekeeper in order to get near him? Bea was the only one who succeeded, and she was a professional."

"Is that what you really think?"

"No, Elizabeth. We're just kidding with you. Uncle Bunny expects you to move in tomorrow. He says he has six bedrooms besides his that you can choose from. He promised to try you for one month, but if you keep his house clean and cook him some nice dinners, you might wind up staying as long as Gerta and Hans have here. I don't think he expects you to work too hard. You might want to cool it with the smoking until after you get that issue settled with him. He knows you smoke, but we didn't discuss that."

She looked reasonably happy to have another place to stay. Not so happy that she bothered to say thank you to me, but reasonably happy nonetheless. I looked at Mama, and could see that she was proud that I'd stepped in and gotten something settled for Elizabeth. Something that was away from our house. Mama was protective of everyone, while still wanting everything to turn out her way, at home. I was glad I didn't choose to fight her over this.

"Kenny, we need to have a talk about Walt Connor. He and Georgia have separated, and he's been making threats against you and Bunny. He knows what happened here last weekend. He isn't happy about any of it."

Strangely, an irate father didn't bother me that much, not with all the other things that had happened lately. I told Mama that I'd take care of it with Mr. Connor if it ever came to a confrontation. I asked her how Brenda was doing with her parents splitting up like that.

"She's devastated, Kenny. She blames herself for everything."

"She's pretty much right, don't you think? None of this would have happened if she had been honest with me. If she told me about Gary, I would have made my decision based on that too. She was afraid to be honest with me."

"Would it have mattered if she had been honest?"

"It would have mattered, but I'm not sure if it would have changed the way things turned out. I might have trusted her more though. With Brenda, everything, besides her, takes a back seat. She doesn't see anything wrong with doing or getting whatever she wants."

"She's very young, Kenny, you need to make allowances for that. She'll mature. This has matured her."

"Mama, there will never be a chance for Brenda and I to ever be emotionally close again. The same holds true for Emily. I'm done with both of them as far as any feelings for either of them goes. I'm not going to carry a big grudge against either of them, but they will never again be my friends."

"Will it bother you if I remain close to Georgia and Brenda?"

"No, not as long as you respect my feelings. Don't try to force me into trying it again with Brenda, or putting me in a position where I have to be rude to them to keep them away from me."

"I'm very disappointed in Brenda, Kenny, as is Bunny. He told me about Brenda being his daughter, but Georgia had already hinted to me as much earlier. I feel a responsibility towards her, a strong need to intercede for her, to make her life as good as I possibly can. Georgia has made mistakes, and she realizes this now. In a way, losing you has made it easier for Brenda to willingly make the changes necessary for her to become the young woman she should be. I've told her of our agreement, and that I would drop all my interest in her welfare, turning my back to her, if she ever try's to force herself upon you again. I accept what you've said, Kenny. No more Brenda in your life."

"I never said no more Brenda. I said I would never trust her, or have any close emotional feelings for her. She's family now, and I'll try not to push her away from you. It's important to me that you're happy too, Mama." This seemed to satisfy both Mama and Gerta. I wondered why Gerta was beaming, but then, I realized she was happy because Mama was happy. She was as protective of Mama, as Mama was of Brenda. I left the kitchen and went back up to my bedroom. I still hadn't dealt with everything I needed to deal with, but I'd made good progress for the first day. I used my intercom system on the phone and rang 15, which was the number to Dad's study. He answered on the first ring.

"Uncle Bunny wants to play golf with us tomorrow. Do you feel like going out to the club to hit some balls?"

"You're asking me to go with you? What about Bertie?"

"I'd rather it was just you and I this time. I want to practice, but I also wanted to ask your advice on some things. Personal things." Dad said he'd be happy to go with me if I could wait half an hour for him to finish up something he was reading. We got to the course at three o'clock, and we both pounded out one of the jumbo buckets. I had to help him with the last hundred balls. We talked about Brenda, but we also talked about his mother and the Coulter's. I told him about how I'd always felt like I'd been thrown away and abandoned, and how I was feeling now, knowing my worst fears had been confirmed.

"Kenny, you shouldn't paint yourself with their brush. When I was your age, I made the same mistake you're making now. You aren't your mother or your grandmother, you're you. You can make anything you want to of yourself. I was proud of you today when you decided to help them. I tried to help my mother too, but it was too little, and too late. By the time I was fifteen, I was working and going to school, hoping the extra money would ease her worries, and help her quit needing to drink. It had the opposite effect. She just started drinking more because the money was there for it. Before, when she ran out of money, she would cadge drinks off of men. I hated that. With me working part time, that ended. By then though, her looks were shot, and she had trouble finding any guy to buy her drinks."

"I don't believe anything I do is going to change her. Not unless she wants to change herself."

"That might be true if all you did was hand her some money. What you asked Bunny to do will work, to some extent at least. You can force her into a hospital to get the booze out of her system. They'll run all the tests and evaluate her physical condition. My mother's teeth were very bad, but she wouldn't spend the money to get them fixed. She needed it to buy whiskey."

"Maybe this will help her. She's still pretty young."

"Don't get any expectations, Kenny. You'll just set yourself up for failure if you do. As long as you try your best to help her, that's all you can ask of yourself."

"I don't even know her. After today, I'm not even sure I want to get to know her. She didn't even care that I was in the room. All she thought about was that wine in the jar."

"Kenny, I think you'd be happier if you thought about her being sick. If you do that, you might not hold her needing her 'medicine' against her so much. For a drunk, going without booze is very uncomfortable, even painful. She needs to dry out under a physician's care. They'll sedate her, and make it much easier for her to go through the ordeal."

"Do you think she'll care about me after she gets sober?"

"Honestly? No. I think she might start caring about herself though. If she does that, you should be satisfied. After she's had some time being sober, then she might start thinking about other people too, but this might take a long time, and it also might never happen. If you're helping her to try to get her to love you, you're bound to be disappointed. If you're helping her because you feel better about yourself by doing it, then this is a positive thing to be doing."

"Did you feel better giving your mother your money from working?"

"I felt better for trying to help her, for not writing her off, and doing nothing. When she died, I felt really bad. I also felt relieved. No more embarrassment from my friends seeing her, or people talking about her. When she died, I was able to stop worrying about what she might do next. It's a terrible thing to feel relief at the death of your own mother. I've spent thirty years trying to forgive myself."

"It took you that long?"

"So far, Kenny, so far. I don't think I ever will forgive myself, but I keep trying. That's one of the reasons I'm so happy you've decided to help Anne. Not for her, because I don't give a fig for her. For you."

"I love you too, Dad." I watched him as he paused with his five iron held tightly in his hands. His knuckles got whiter from the grip he had on the club. He hit the ball a vicious swipe, sculling it, and sending it dribbling down the practice range. I watched as he used his club head to pull another ball into hitting position. This time, he took a long, smooth swing, sending the ball out one hundred seventy five yards on the fly. I waited, as he hit another three balls, but he didn't say anything. I didn't care. I knew he loved me, he just didn't know how to say the words. He'd learn. I wondered if he'd told his mother he loved her. I didn't ask him though.

The ride home was silent, but I felt a closer bond between us. He hadn't asked me for anything, and had stood by me the entire time, lending his support. I knew it had cost him a lot emotionally to do so, and I appreciated him being willing to put himself through that for me.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 20


The next day, Mama, Uncle Bunny, Dad, and I teed off at ten thirty. Jane and Grace had joined another twosome right behind us. The twosome was made up of two younger girls. I had seen one of them at the pool before, a brunette about my age, who was about average height, with small breasts, and hips just a little wider than normal. She had worn a bikini at the pool, and she looked a little bit pear shaped in it. I'd never seen the other girl though. She too was a brunette, with hair on the short side, and long arms and legs. At first, there wasn't anything about her that stood out to me. That changed though, as soon as I took a look back and watched her golf swing. She looked like a younger Mama, at least as far as her swing went. I saw Mama looking at her too. Neither of us were surprised to see her drive rolling twenty five yards past Grace's.

Uncle Bunny hadn't been kidding when he told me he'd been practicing his short game. He shot an eighty five, chipping in once from the fringe, and making three putts from fifteen feet or longer. I shot an eighty one, and dropped three hundred to him. He took six hundred from Dad, and another three hundred from Mama. Mama had shot a seventy three, and Dad shot a seventy nine. Uncle Bunny had the worst score and still made twelve hundred from us. I watched Grace and Jane putting out on the eighteenth. Having paid Uncle Bunny as soon as I collected my three hundred from Dad, I made my way back over to the eighteenth green. Mama and I tied for the eighteen, and she lost the front to me and won the back nine. She won one hundred from Dad though, winning the eighteen, and the back nine from him.

"What did you shoot, Grace?" I really wanted to get a closer look at the new girl, but I used the excuse of wanting to know how Jane and Grace did.

"Seventy five, Kenny. Jane shot seventy one though. Do you know Shirley and Denise?" The girl I was interested in was named Shirley. Grace made all the introductions, although Denise said she already knew who I was. From the way she said it, and the lukewarm hand wave she gave me, I guessed that she had heard something bad about me. I was happy to find out that Shirley was fifteen like I was. With my birthday just around the corner, that meant I was probably older than her. She was almost as tall as I was, maybe five ten or eleven, a little on the thin side, with small breasts and narrow hips. I found out that she was going to be a sophomore, so I was a grade ahead of her. All of this was good to know. She wasn't nearly as pretty as Brenda, but she had regular features and a nice smile. She seemed shy too. I wanted to get a chance to talk with her, but Denise was in a hurry about something, and they both left before I had much of a chance to tell her more than hello. I watched them driving away in their golf cart.

"You like Shirley, Kenny?" Jane nudged me playfully in my ribs when she asked me that.

"I just now met her. I liked her golf swing though. What did she shoot?"

"I think around eighty five or so. What did you shoot?"

"Eighty one. Uncle Bunny shot an eighty five, and took all of us to the cleaners. He's been practicing. I'm going to have to re-evaluate giving him strokes." Both Grace and Jane were laughing at me. I was pretty sure then that I knew who was coaching him. "So Jane, tell me about Shirley. What else did you find out? Did Denise say something bad about me?"

"Denise doesn't like you much. She thinks you're conceited, and said you like to throw the fact that you're rich in other people's faces. She was talking about you having five or six people for lunch, everyday at the club, last summer. She also said you dumped Brenda Connor."

"What did Shirley say? Did she ask any questions about me?"

"She did like the way you got out of that fairway bunker on fourteen. What did you use, a seven?"

"No, I crushed an eight. It was just lucky that I picked it so cleanly."

"Grace and I both told her that Denise didn't know what she was talking about. We told her how sweet you were. She just moved here from Salt Lake City about two weeks ago. Her father works in Bolling, as a sales manager for a carpet company, and her mother is an artist of some kind. She's the baby in her family, with two older brothers in college. One is at Yale in Connecticut, a junior, and her other brother is a sophomore, transferring to KU, over in Lawrence. He went to Oregon as a freshman, but he didn't like it there."

I thanked Jane for all the information, and we went over to the clubhouse together. Lunch was pretty unremarkable. I had the fried chicken for a change. It was good, but not as good as Gerta's was. Uncle Bunny and Mama were talking about Elizabeth. Mama was warning him about her drug use, but Uncle Bunny was mostly concerned about her being too intrusive on his privacy. He did say that he hoped she was a good cook, but told Mama he was keeping the mother and daughter team that came in and cleaned his house twice a week. Mama told him about Elizabeth's home baked breads, and about the sherbet and cookies she made. I stayed relatively quiet, thinking about the four members of my birth family that I knew about. I was curious to meet my Aunt Donna. I thought I'd get Elizabeth to help me out with that, at least make the introduction for me.

I was staring off at nothing, thinking about Elizabeth, when Gary, Emily, and Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs came into the restaurant. They were seated about twenty feet from us. Mr. Carstairs came over to say hello to Mama and Uncle Bunny. From the way he was acting, he didn't know anything about what had happened with Brenda, Emily, and me. Mama introduced Dad to Mr. Carstairs, but they already knew each other from high school. Dad didn't act very friendly towards him, but he did shake hands after Mr. Carstairs offered his hand. I looked over at Emily and Gary. I wasn't mad at Gary because of anything that had happened. I was very angry with Emily though. Not for her telling me about Gary and Brenda, but for the reason she did it. The fact that it had worked was also galling to me. When I got up to use the restroom, Emily was waiting outside the door when I came out.

"Kenny, I'm sorry. Now you're mad at me and so is Brenda. We both got hurt by her. You were right, and I should have listened to you." She was standing directly in front of the door, there was no way for me to go around her. I either had to stand there and listen to her, push her out of my way, or go back inside the men's room. I didn't feel like retreating from her. I hadn't done anything to injure her, why should I go hide?

"Emily, get out of my way. I have nothing to discuss with you. You got what you wanted, Brenda and I are through. Go back to your family." I knew she was already embarrassing herself by trapping me at the bathroom door like this, but I didn't know how much humiliation she might be willing to suffer before she'd leave me alone. I didn't want to speak with her. In fact, I wanted to see her less than I wanted to see Brenda.

"I wish you wouldn't be mad at me, Kenny. I already told you how sorry I am."

"You're sorry because your plan backfired, and you got Brenda mad at you. Brenda was your friend, and you harmed her for selfish reasons. What Brenda did was bad, but what you did by telling me, that was even worse. I don't know why Brenda did those things with Gary, but I know why you told me. You have to live with the consequences of what you did. I don't want to be around you anymore." She stepped aside then, letting me pass by her. I went back and sat down again. I saw the worried look on Mama's face, and heard Emily crying as she returned to her family. I looked over at their table, and Emily's mother was trying to comfort her and find out what had happened. I saw Gary looking over at me angrily. I hoped he wasn't going to come over and confront me about what happened with his sister. I really hoped he didn't. Mrs. Carstairs got up and led Emily away to the ladies room. It looked for a moment like Mr. Carstairs was going to come back to our table, but I guess he finally decided not to.

Everyone at both tables was a little bit uncomfortable, so when Uncle Bunny suggested we all leave and go back to our house, it was quickly agreed to. We got up and left. I went with Uncle Bunny, and Grace and Jane left in Jane's car. Mama and Dad both waited for Hans to come pick them up. They had a drink while they waited. In the car, Uncle Bunny started asking me questions about Elizabeth. Specifically, he wanted to know the exact point when she asked me how old he was. He made me go over what had been said before, and afterwards too.

"I wonder why she'd ask such a question, Kenny?"

"Probably because I'd been joking with her about her funny business comment. Maybe she meant to say she was too young for you."

"Is that why you mentioned Bea to her? To let her know she wasn't?" Uncle Bunny didn't sound upset, just curious.

"I wasn't thinking of you and Elizabeth that way. She made that comment, and then I made a joke about it. I should have just said you weren't going to try any funny business. I'm sorry if it embarrassed you."

"Kenny, I'm not embarrassed. I was interested in the context of her statement, and of yours. I'm still wondering about her asking my age like that, after the dialogue the two of you had just had. She isn't some young girl after all. One would have to presume, at twenty eight, and having been married, she asked the question knowing how it would sound to others."

"Maybe she's lonely since her husband died. Whenever we've talked, she's told me she misses him, and is afraid that she's forgetting what he looked like. He's been gone a long time. Maybe she is starting to put him behind her."

At the house, the first person we ran into was Elizabeth. She was packing her things into the limo parked in front of the house. Hans had been forced to take Mama's car to go get my parents because the back seat of the limo was stuffed with Elizabeth's stuff. Elizabeth looked upset because she knew Mama wasn't going to like not having the limo pick her up.

"Hans said it would be all right. I didn't know it would take so long to load everything up. When I moved in before, it didn't take so long and there wasn't so much stuff. I'm sorry."

Uncle Bunny stepped in, and spoke up soothingly. "Don't worry about it. I'll have a word with Bertie when she gets here. Is there anything that Kenny and I can do to help you? When Hans returns, we'll ride over and help you move your things in. That way Hans can hurry back here, in case Tommy and Bertie decide to go somewhere tonight." Uncle Bunny was putting on his charm. His smile was at full candlepower, and he was holding in his overly large stomach, and smoothing down the loose strands of his rather sparse hair. I stood back, away from the two of them. Whether she wanted it or not, I was guessing that Uncle Bunny was going to find out if Elizabeth was up for some funny business with him. I left the two of them at the limo, talking together, and went upstairs to change into some old clothes.

When I came back down, Dad and Mama were speaking with Uncle Bunny, and he was telling them that he had commandeered the limo so that he could assist Elizabeth in getting her things moved in quickly. Elizabeth was standing over by the limo, out of everyone's way, letting Uncle Bunny smooth the way for her.

We followed Hans over to Uncle Bunny's house and it only took us about five minutes to unload everything in front of his house. After Hans left, Uncle Bunny, Elizabeth and I brought her things inside his house. I'd never been there before, but I'd driven past it a few times with either Mama or Hans. It was a one story house that was very wide in front. There was an attached four car garage that made the house look really wide. What I didn't know was that the whole area behind the house was a big square, and the house was one hundred feet by one hundred feet. The garage must have been about forty feet by forty feet deep. I know it was a lot bigger inside the house than you would think, looking at it from the outside.

There was a large bedroom in the back of the house, behind the kitchen. It must have been about six hundred square feet, around twenty feet by thirty feet. There was a full bathroom, and a separate door that led outside, to the side walkway. She picked this bedroom without even looking at the five other choices. Of course, this room was the farthest away from where we'd off loaded her belongings. It took us over twenty minutes to carry everything back there. Uncle Bunny insisted, after the first load, which we all carried, that Elizabeth stay in her room, putting things away, while he and I brought the rest of it back to her.

It was a short, five minute ride back to our house, and Uncle Bunny stopped in front, telling me that he'd see me later, at the country club dance. Until then, no one had mentioned to me that we'd be going. I didn't want to run into Brenda or Emily, so I instantly made up my mind to beg off from going. It turned out not to be necessary. Mama told me that she and Dad were going, and she thought I'd appreciate the chance to stay home and rest up from my ordeal. I wasn't sure which ordeal she was referring to, so I just nodded to her and grunted out what I hoped she'd take as verbal approval of her idea.

I was in my room at nine, when Brenda called me. Gerta used the intercom line to tell me that Brenda was calling. She asked me if I wanted to take the call or not. I knew that I was going to have to talk to her again at some time. Maybe it was better to do it then, when my parents weren't there. I told Gerta to patch the call through.

"Kenny, hello?"

"I can hear you, Brenda."

"I'm glad you're back home. Did your mother tell you what happened to us?"

"No, I heard that your parents split up, and you and your mom moved to Bolling for awhile."

"Daddy found out about what we did all that weekend, and that my mother knew it was going to happen, and about her putting me on birth control pills. He hit both of us, in the face, really hard. You should have heard the things he said to us." I didn't say anything to her, waiting to see if she would come to the point or purpose of her call. So far, she hadn't brought up anything about her and I, or about what happened with Gary. I knew that she was hoping I'd give her an easy opening so that she could start crying and asking me to overlook her mistake. Instead, I waited. "Kenny, I don't think you should be so mad at me. The things with Gary were before we got together again. I was going to tell you, but I didn't want to spoil things, because they were going so well. I would have told you myself, when I got the chance to, honest."

"Brenda, we couldn't be any more finished unless you were dead. I gave you several chances to be honest with me. You lied to me. I probably wouldn't have forgiven what you did with Gary anyway, but the lying on top of that, there's just no way to forgive that."

"We've had problems before though. We always managed to get through them. I don't know why we can't get through this one too. I never cared that much for him, it was kind of like me teaching him what to do. He never had a girlfriend. It was something to do, something to keep Emily away from me. I didn't like that she was always after me to do things with her, so I did those things with Gary. When you did them to me, it was totally different than it was with him, or with Darryl. Like night and day different. I love you. If I'd known it was going to turn out this way, I wouldn't have done it."

"Brenda, I don't even care anymore, really. I don't want you in my life, or anywhere around me. I feel the same way about Emily. Right now, you still have some support from Mama, but if you keep trying to contact me, she said she'd stop trying to help you. I'm not going to tell her about this phone call, but Gerta probably will."

"Your mother told us you were going to work with your father here in Bolling sometimes. Even if we can't be together anymore, Kenny, I still love you. Do you want to come over here for lunch or something? I've been thinking about what we did that weekend. I miss you. It can just be for sex, I don't mind."

"Brenda, that's never going to happen. This better be the final time you call me, or ask me something like that. I'm through with you. I don't think I could screw you again, not without getting sick to my stomach. Leave me alone." I heard the line go dead before I finished telling her to leave me alone. I'm not sure how I managed to keep my voice sounding so calm and steady while I was talking with her. I didn't feel calm, that was for sure. I felt terrible. I wanted to cry, but I also wanted to go to Bolling and strangle her. I was happy we talked on the phone though. In person, she'd have seen the physical reaction hearing her voice had elicited from me. Seeing her, I don't think I could have handled saying what needed to be said.

In spite of what I had told her, Emily, and Mama, I still had an emotional connection to Brenda. I hated having it, but I had to be honest with myself. I needed to keep distance between us. How could I feel so negatively about her, and, at the same time, want her so badly? I felt as addicted to her as Anne Coulter was to alcohol. Maybe I needed to go somewhere and get dried out from Brenda? I went downstairs, looking for Gerta. As usual, I found her in the kitchen, sitting at the table, writing out the menu for the next week.

"Gerta, never put through another phone call from Brenda. Whenever I speak with her, it leads to trouble, for both of us."

"You don't even want to know if she calls?"

"No. The same thing goes for Emily Carstairs too. So, what do you make of Elizabeth and Uncle Bunny?"

"I don't make anything of it, what do you mean?"

"I think he's more interested in her than he's letting on. He spent a lot of time asking me about her today. Do you think he'll get her to be like Bea was with him?"

"If Bunny wants her, he'll find a way. When he was younger, he always managed, even when no one thought he had a chance. He finds out what the girls want or need, and then he shows them how to get it. He has a knack for that. He's always willing to work hard to get whatever he wants. His looks don't get the girls to open their legs for him, it's his wit and charm, and the way he makes them feel so important. The money helps, but it's more than money. His father was the same way. When I first came to work here, he made me so nervous. All of us that worked here were nervous around him. We knew, if he wanted us, there was nothing we could do to keep him from succeeding."

"Because you'd lose your job?"

"Oh no, it was because he was a difficult man to resist. He was so powerful. To a girl, especially a German girl, power is an aphrodisiac. One look at Senior, and you knew he had all the power. He'd make sure you saw that in him too. He would make his wife do things, right in front of us, just to show us he had that power."

"He never did anything to you?" Gerta looked around nervously, making sure that no one else could hear her. She looked like she was very worried. "No, I shouldn't have asked you. You don't need to answer that."

"It was a long time ago. I was a young girl when I first came here. It was only that one time, in the early Summer, and it was only him touching me. I was glad that he stopped himself. He had such a power. He touched my arm, and I felt it all over. The hairs on my arm lifted right up. He made my knees weak, and I was afraid I'd fall down, or else wet myself, because I was so afraid of him. While he had my arm, he moved closer and rubbed his 'Glied' against my hip."

"Glied?"

"The man's part, from between his legs?"

"His dick?"

"Ja. A big one too, I could tell. When I didn't move away from him, he laughed, and let me go. I almost quit that day. I calmed down afterwards, but I told myself I'd quit if he ever tried something like that again. He never did. I think he saw how good I was with the twins. He did a lot more with the other girls. I think it just amused him to see how we would all react. All the girls here then were German immigrants. We thought, because of the War, that was why he treated us that way."

"The more I learn about him, the scarier he sounds. What was his wife like?"

"She was an angel, that's what she was. She treated all of us girls very well. She was always bringing us home clothes, some that she bought, and some from her other friends, fancy clothes that they were going to throw away. When Anna got married, Anna was the girl who got hired with me as a maid, Mrs. Chalmers gave her five hundred dollars as a going away wedding present. Five hundred dollars, that was like half a year's salary. It was her own money too, not his. Money that she had saved from presents that he had given her maybe, but her own money."

"You were already married to Hans when he did that to you?"

"Yes, but Hans didn't work here then, only me. I never told him, because I knew he'd make me quit if I did. After she died, the twins needed me, and I stayed here for them. One other time, about ten years after I came to work here. I was the new cook then. I just remembered this right now. It might have been nothing. He came down to the kitchen late one night, in his underwear. He looked at me, and then he touched himself, rubbed himself for a minute, right here in the kitchen. I stared at him, and again he laughed. He told me to make him a sandwich, and bring it into his study, along with a glass of beer. When he left, I made his sandwich, but I had Hans take it in to him. I told Hans I had a bad headache, and asked him to take it in."

"So, were you always frightened of him?"

"Of him, and of myself too. You can't understand what it was like being around him. He had charisma. It was strong too, and it worked on men and women. Mr. Parsons, you should have seen how Senior treated him. He liked to exercise his power. He did it with Bertie too, it was only Bunny who could resist him."

"Was he evil?"

"I don't think so. He did a lot of nice things for people he liked. He gave a lot of money away to charity. He was cold, and a lot more so, after his wife died. For him, it was the power he enjoyed. To him it was a toy. He loved to impose himself on other people, to make them bend to his way of thinking."

"I wonder if Brenda takes after him?"

"I wondered the same thing. As soon as I saw her hair coloring, and those eyes, I knew. With her looks, if she ever had his power, nobody would be safe around her. I think he had strong 'Erbanlage' to pass through to her like he did."

"What is that?"

"When a man is strong, he passes more of himself through to his children and grandchildren. Strong genes."

"Brenda is also Uncle Bunny's daughter."

Gerta sat down again, quickly when I told her that. "You know this for a fact, Kenny?"

"Yes, Uncle Bunny told me. Mrs. Connor is Uncle Bunny's half sister, and Brenda is his child. He reversed his operation, the one that made him not able to make babies."

"This is not a good thing, Kenny. This is a bad thing."

"I think it is only bad if the babies come out with birth defects. Once they are born normal, I think they stay normal. That's what we were taught in school, at least."

"Not bad in that way. Bad because it ties Bunny to that woman. All these years, Hans and I wondered why he kept going back to her. She almost ruined him forever, when she broke his heart, but no matter what she did, he kept going back to her."

"He loves her. Maybe she has some of what Senior Chalmers had, except this time it only works on Uncle Bunny? She doesn't seem to have a lot of power over her own husband."

"It could be like that. Maybe she does have that power over him. Does Brenda have that same power too?"

"I don't know. She has something. Whenever I get around her, something happens that makes me think stupid. When we were up in my bedroom, that last time? After we had finally really screwed, my mind seemed to change about her. I started to believe it could work out between us. I didn't see her doing or saying anything to make me think that. I came to that conclusion on my own. At least, I thought so at the time."

"You are right to try to stay away from her then. She is as dangerous for you as her mother was for Bunny."

I left the kitchen and went back up to my room. I didn't know if Gerta was just spinning some kind of campfire ghost story or not, but I felt myself half believing her.

I was still awake when Mama and Dad got home at twelve thirty. They were arguing about Uncle Bunny. I heard Mama telling him that Uncle Bunny shouldn't have brought his housekeeper to a dance at their club. It made me smile. Good for him, that's what I thought. If Uncle Bunny had a little of the power too, that was a good thing. I was able to fall asleep after that.

At three o'clock, I woke up when Jane came into my room, asking to spend the night. She said she had a fight with Grace about something. I moved over to the left side of my bed and went right back to sleep. When I woke up at seven, Jane was still sleeping in my bed.

I got up, used the toilet, then took a long shower. I played with myself in the shower, trying to think about almost anyone but Brenda. It almost worked, except right near the end when I had my eyes closed and could see her beneath me on my bed, with that wild animal look she got just before she had one of her strong orgasms. I would have been really mad at myself for letting my mind slip like that, except I had cum so good that I couldn't find the resolve to be mad right then at anyone.

It was around ten thirty before Grace came out in the back yard looking for me. She was really P.O.'d at me for letting Jane share my bed. I told her I had been asleep when she came in, and right after. I told her nothing happened. She went back into the house, going to Mama to make her complaint about me. I wasn't there, staying out in the back instead, but Gerta told me later that Mama listened to Grace for about a minute before stopping her and telling her that I hadn't done anything wrong that she could see, and Grace would either have to accept that, or else leave. Grace stopped talking then, going back up to her room. When the two of them came down for lunch, they were all lovey dovey again, so I guess they worked it out between them. That night, Grace came into my room and crawled in my bed, saying nothing. I don't know what she thought she was doing, but I didn't like it.

Before I went off to Bolling with my Dad, I asked Hans to buy some door hardware to put a big deadbolt on my bedroom door. I didn't know if they had decided to rotate or what, but from then on, the only people I wanted in my bedroom were people that I had personally brought there or invited.

I had a good time at work. The first thing Dad did was take me around to all the bosses, introducing me to them as his son. We went out to the production lines and he took me over and introduced me to the line supervisors, telling them that I was to have free run of the building whenever I was there. I tried a few cookies right off the production line, but I thought the rolls from the vending machines in Omaha were a lot better. After Dad left to go to some meetings, I walked around watching how things got done.

One of the most interesting things I found was the way the route trucks that were being loaded up towards the end of the day. Most trucks had to leave the plant before five thirty every morning, so they all had to be in before three in the afternoon to be loaded for the next days deliveries. There were only twenty five bays at the back of the building, and over one hundred route trucks to be loaded. At around two forty five, the first trucks came racing in to get one of the open loading bays. By three o'clock every bay was full, and there were drivers lined up to be next at each bay. I saw a lot of tense and angry drivers. When each truck was being loaded, I noticed they were only about half full when they were driven off the loading bay. Each driver would help load his truck. It was obvious that there was no uniform way the trucks were loaded. Each driver would place products in his truck in whichever way he preferred.

When I left at five o'clock, to go upstairs to meet Dad, they were just finishing loading the last of the trucks. The drivers who were the last to get loaded were all really pissed off. There was a lot of swearing and yelling out on the loading dock when I left. I went upstairs and waited for Dad to come out of his office. I had gone up at about one o'clock, after all his meetings were supposed to be finished, but he was still in a meeting, and his secretary told me he was running about an hour and a half behind. The way she said it, it sounded like it happened all the time. I was pretty sure the meeting weren't running late because of Dad, because he always came fully prepared for his workday. He wouldn't leave his study at home until he was satisfied that he was prepared.

When I got back to his office at five ten, his secretary, and most of the office people had already gone home. Dad was on the telephone, getting sales and delivery figures from the other three locations for the day. He got done at around five thirty, and we went out to get into his car. He was carrying his satchel briefcase that was stuffed with papers. He looked tired.

"Sorry about lunch, Kenny. It was crazy today. It seems like all these meeting go past their scheduled time. Maybe I'm being too optimistic when I schedule them."

"Maybe they need to get their information better organized, like you do. Do they all come in with action plans like you do?"

"No, but that's why I'm the boss, and they aren't."

"If I was their boss, I sure wouldn't let them tie up everyone's time just because they hadn't planned what they needed to say or report to you. Don't you have these meetings in order to save everyone's time? So you don't have to keep meeting with each other all day long?"

"You can't make them stick to a strict time schedule, Kenny. There are always questions and discussions."

"Have them write up their presentations in advance. Pass them out to all the people before each meeting. They can look it over and write up any questions they have before the meeting starts. That's how we do it in our classes at the Academy. They pass out a mimeographed copy of the next days lesson. If we don't come to class prepared, they get on us big time. We get a whole lot more done at the Academy than I ever did at my other schools."

"Interesting. Let me think about that. I might be able to get limited improvement doing that. Did you notice anything else?"

"The loading procedure at the end of each day. How much turnover is there with your route drivers?"

"Not too much. It isn't the kind of job that people stay with forever. There's always turnover."

"They work twelve hour days, all of them."

"No they don't. Who told you that? They work for ten hours, four days a week, five till three."

"Dad, I watched them from about two forty five until five. The earliest ones finished at three forty five or so. Some were still there when I left at five to come upstairs. I bet the ones who get back the earliest come in before five in the morning."

"The gate is locked until five. No one leaves early, it isn't allowed."

"Are you ever here at five?"

"No, but that's been company policy for thirty years at least. The gates don't open until five."

"Each driver loads their truck the way they want to, nothing is standardized."

"As long as they do the job, we let them do it the way they want to."

"The drivers shouldn't be loading their own trucks. If you loaded every truck the same way, the drivers wouldn't work so long, because you could hire other people to load for them. Right now, the trucks leave with a lot less than a full load. I bet they'd carry and deliver more if they didn't have to wait around everyday, to load for the next day."

"We save money by having the driver's do their own loading. They catch mistakes a warehouseman wouldn't. We have to be able to deliver what the customer orders."

"Do the customers give their orders to the route men when they're making their delivery?"

"No, they call them in. All right, I can see that you might be right about the loading part. I don't agree it will save us money though."

"It almost has to. I'm betting the route drivers get paid more than the warehouseman, right?" My Dad nodded that I was right. "If the drivers could carry and deliver another fifteen per cent each day, and they certainly have the room in the trucks for that much more, how much more profit would that be per truck?"

"It is hard to say. If each truck delivers two thousand dollars of product a day, another fifteen per cent would be three hundred dollars more. Figure a forty per cent mark up for us, and that comes out to a hundred twenty a day more. Are you sure about each truck having the room for that much more?" I nodded that I was. "Why are they leaving with less than eighty five per cent of capacity then?"

"Because they have to get back early, or else wait around until after five, to load the next day's deliveries."

"Goddamn it! You better be wrong about this Kenny, or else some highly paid sons of bitches are going to be collecting unemployment after tomorrow night. You have to be wrong." Dad was driving at eighty five when he was saying this. I was getting scared. When he looked over at me, he must have noticed how scared I looked, and how my eyes were staring at the speedometer. He slowed down quickly to sixty five. "Sorry. I can't believe a boy could come into one of my own plants like this, and spot something I've been overlooking for more than twenty five years. You have to be wrong."

"Why would you fire people for not seeing something that you didn't see either?"

"I'm not being paid to see it, they are. They aren't doing the job I'm paying them to do. If you're right."

"It still doesn't make sense to me why you'd fire them. It seems to me that, if I'm right, the company will make more money, and sell more product. If I'm wrong, everything stays the same. I bet each of those men could go to a different part of the company, or to a different plant, and spot some things that could be improved on. Things that the regular guys there, the ones who show up everyday, wouldn't notice. Mostly because, that's how they've always done it."

My Dad nodded when I said that. I could see that he was thinking, and that he was getting excited by where his thoughts were leading him. I bet he was glad that I'd taken over as his intern this Summer. Grace wouldn't have seen what I did, not in ten Summers.



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Chapter 21

On Tuesday, we flew up to Omaha for a meeting with the company that was making our vending machines. It was the owner, his son, Dad and me, and Virginia and her dad. I was the youngest one there. Mr. Lucas was good friends with Mr. Tanner, the owner of the vending machine company. They went back a long ways together. We were having lunch, and Dad was letting Mr. Lucas represent the company as far as negotiating for new machines. We were hoping to order six thousand new machines. The last ones Rob had bought, a year before, had cost him $540.00 each, and he had purchased two hundred of them. The new quote for five hundred machines was $580.00 per machine. Rob was surprised at the price increase.

"Jim, our budget is $500.00 per machine. We thought the price would come down when we increased the size of our order."

"It cost me the same amount to build them, Rob, and my cost for materials and labor has gone up. Anyone else, and I'd be charging more." Dad, Virginia and I just listened. I could see that Dad was disappointed in the price. I knew he had run his projections based on a cost of $525.00 per machine. Virginia spoke up then.

"We're planning a major expansion of our vending routes, but it won't work for us at those prices. We were hoping for savings from our increased order size. You must have economy of scale savings on materials?"

"Ginny, I'm already being eaten alive by bank interest on the loans I take out to buy new materials, and that's a fixed expense. We're not a big company to begin with, and we don't have prime credit. I'm not able to purchase all my material needs at once anyway, not for an order like this." Mr. Tanner was apologetic, but he knew his own costs, and how much he needed to make that many machines. He was only able to build five hundred machines a year anyway. If we went with him, it would take twelve years to get the machines we wanted. Dad wanted all of them placed, and making money for us, within three years. He was really excited by the profit potential of vending, and wanted to concentrate his expansion plans on that part of the business for the next few years.

"Jim, we're going to need six thousand new machines in the next three years. Who do you recommend we go to?"

"Did you say six thousand, Tom?" Mr. Tanner looked at Dad, not believing what he'd just heard. His son, David, looked increasingly uncomfortable, shifting around in his seat and scraping his fork annoyingly over the surface of his empty plate. David was around thirty years old, and other than saying hello to us when we first met, and shaking everyone's hand, he hadn't said one word. My father nodded confirmation that that was what he'd said. Mr. Tanner sat way back in his chair and looked over at Rob. Rob nodded to him also.

"We could expand, if we had a strong enough financial partner." The words came tumbling out of David's mouth. I saw the angry look from his father. "We're just spinning our wheels the way we're doing things now. The only people making any money are the banks and the suppliers, Dad."

"David, I already told you I don't want partners." From the angry tone of voice he was using, this was an argument that they had had many times in the past. "When it's your business, you can do what you want to. Until then, we'll do it my way. No partners."

There was an embarrassed silence at the table. Luckily we'd all had a great lunch first, so the only thing spoiled was the business discussion. Dad stepped in.

"Jim, can you build us five hundred at $550.00 each? Firm order, same specs as the last ones, and we'll pay half of it up front, to reduce your borrowing costs." Dad looked at Mr. Tanner, waiting for a response.

"Tom, $580.00 is my best price. We got half down with the last order too." David was back to moving around in his chair, upset and agitated. He could see that his father was going to walk away from this meeting without an order. Still, he didn't speak again. Five minutes later, the meeting was over, with both Dad and Rob saying they would think about it and get back to Mr. Tanner. Everyone at the table knew that the order was never going to be placed. I could see the disappointment on Dad's face. He was really anxious to get going on the expansion. He felt that it was the perfect time to be growing that part of the business. I knew he'd be going ahead with it, and that Mr. Tanner's company wouldn't be making the new machines.

By three o'clock, we were in the plane, flying back to Bolling. Dad had asked Virginia to investigate other vending manufacturers for him, getting quotes on a machine built to the specs of our other machines. She promised to have something for him to consider within a week.

It was five o'clock by the time we got back to Ridgeline. I had Dad drop me off at the club, so I could hit a big bucket or two. We arranged for Hans to come pick me up at six forty five, if dinner was at seven, and at seven fifteen, if we were eating late. I had already hit one of the jumbo buckets by six fifteen, and was deciding on whether to go get another one, when Shirley showed up, carrying her golf bag and a medium bucket. I nodded to her, and hurried down to the pro shop to get another jumbo bucket for myself. When I got back, she was busy, concentrating on her short irons. I got my driver out, and began to hit a few drives. I waited until she was almost through with her medium bucket before I spoke to her.

"Take some of these balls, I have to leave in a few minutes anyway." When she looked over at me, I picked up my bucket and refilled hers from it. She said thank you, and the sound of her voice was pleasant. That was one thing I hadn't liked about Brenda. Her voice always had a little bit of whine in it. Even when she was happy or excited, there was still a hint of whine to it. "I don't know if you remember me, I'm a friend of Jane and Grace, I met you after you finished your golf round on Saturday?"

"I remember. Kenny, right?"

"That's right, Kenny Parsons. I remember your name is Shirley, but I don't remember hearing your family name."

"It's Jones, but please don't say any jokes about the Partridge Family." I saw her blush when she said that. I'd seen the show in reruns, but I wasn't sure what she meant. I wasn't a big television watcher. Later I found out that Shirley Jones played the mom on that show.

"You have a real nice golf swing. How long have you been playing?" She smiled at me. Apparently, she liked getting that kind of a compliment.

"I've played since I was about eight years old, but only got serious in the past two years, since I was thirteen. My Dad got me a new set of clubs for my thirteenth birthday, and he took me golfing with him every weekend after that. I love playing. How long have you been playing?"

"For about a year. I really like it too. I think golf courses are very pretty. I used to watch on television, not for the golf, but for the scenery. My mother is a very good player. She shot a 62 here once. She's almost fifty years old, and she can still break par here."

"You're lucky. My mom doesn't play, and Daddy works six days a week now. We've got guest privileges from our old country club, but Daddy says he isn't going to join here, because of the expense, and the limited use we'll get. His old job paid our membership in Salt Lake City."

"We're members here. You can come play here with me once or twice during the week if you want to. We have a corporate membership, and we're allowed some free guests every month. I'm working this summer with my Dad, but I can take off to play golf."

"Well, thank you, but I don't think so. I don't think my parents would approve."

"Is it because of what Denise said about me? I don't even know her, so I don't know why she doesn't like me."

"No, it's what I told you. My parents are strict. They don't want me seeing boys yet. Even if it was only for golf, they wouldn't approve. I didn't pay any attention to what Denise said about you. I wait and form my own opinions about people. Did you really have two girlfriend's at the same time?"

"I had two friends who happened to be girls, and one of them was my girlfriend. We had a fight though, all of us, and now none of us are friends anymore."

"Denise said you were doing things with both of them." When she said that, she was blushing again, and when she hit another ball, it went sailing off to the right, almost a shank.

"We were friends, but we did kiss and touch and stuff."

"Denise said the three of you had an orgy."

"I don't know what an orgy is, but I'm pretty sure I'd know if I had one or not."

"An orgy is when three or more people have sex together, at the same time."

"I never have had an orgy then."

"So, Denise was lying?"

"If she said that Emily, Brenda and I had sex together, at the same time, then, yes, she was."

"Did you have sex with both of them?"

"No." Shirley looked at my face, trying to see if I was telling her the truth. To me, this seemed like a bizarre conversation to be having with a girl I just met. A girl I was having my first conversation with. I wondered where Denise got all her information from. I was taking the position that by sex, Shirley meant actual sex, not cunnilingus. I'd never had sex with Emily, not by that definition of sex. I didn't feel like I was lying, just not volunteering everything the three of us had done together.

"I didn't like Denise that much anyway. My father works for her father, and that's why I was over here playing golf with her in the first place. Do you know a girl named Claudia?"

"I know her. She's a friend of my ex girlfriend."

"Have you had sex with her?"

"No."

"Denise says that Claudia has had sex with every boy in this whole town."

"Denise is wrong. I've never even touched Claudia, and I live in this town."

"Where I'm from, girls don't act like that."

"I think Claudia is different from most girls. She's boy crazy."

"How come you never had sex with her?"

"I never wanted to. I don't go to school around here either, but I don't think I'd have sex with her even if I did."

"But, you do like girls?"

"I like them, but I don't understand them. I grew up in a place with nothing but boys, except for the nuns, and they aren't like regular girls."

"Do you go to a Catholic school?"

"Not now, but I used to. I was an orphan for a long time. I just got adopted this last year."

"Denise said you were very rich, and conceited because of that."

"My new parents are very well off. A year ago, I didn't have anything at all. Living like I do now is still very new to me."

"So, you don't even know Denise?"

"I saw her a couple times out by the pool. She sits with her friends, and they talk about other people. I've never even spoken with her. I don't know where she hears all this stuff she was telling you about. Maybe she just makes it up." I saw Hans coming up the driveway driving the limo. I still had about eighty balls left in my bucket. "My ride is here. I need to go put my clubs away and go home for dinner. I'm glad we had this chance to talk. I hope we can play a round of golf together sometime." I picked up my bag, after moving my bucket over next to hers.

"Thanks for the balls, Kenny. I was going to play with Denise tomorrow at nine o'clock. If I cancel with her, could you get us another tee time?"

"Be here at eight, and I'll get us out as soon as there's an opening. Dave, the head pro, is a friend of my mother's. Can you stay after, for lunch too?" She smiled and nodded that she could. I ran with my bag down to the pro shop, not wanting to keep Hans waiting. I saw Dave and asked him if he could put me down for a twosome sometime around eight o'clock. He smiled and said he'd take care of it. I ran back up to the parking lot and climbed in the front with Hans.

Hans had been going to this chiropractor that Dad had gotten him an appointment with, and his back was working well again. It was good to see him back smiling and looking happy.

"Is that your new girlfriend, Kenny?" Hans was looking over at Shirley who was now hitting balls from a tee. She was so tall and slim, and her whole swing was a real pleasure to watch. She had that good tempo that only the best golfers ever develop. Mama had it too. It was a pleasure watching both of them hit balls. I stopped looking at Shirley long enough to turn and speak to Hans.

"I just met her. We're playing golf together tomorrow morning though. Her name is Shirley. I think I'm done with girlfriends for awhile Hans. Too much trouble." Hans just smiled at me. He looked like he didn't believe me.

"Bunny used to tell me the same thing, but he always went back. Once you get started with the girls, Kenny, you never go back to the way things were. You'll see, your body won't let you." Hans had to be wrong. My body didn't control me. I knew that I could control those urges. I'd just get used to the idea of handling those things myself. It was a lot easier, and no one got all upset by it. Girls were nothing but problems. What I really wanted, needed in fact, was a friend. Someone I could talk to, and who could help me to understand how things worked. I was tired of not understanding what was expected of me. I'd gotten such a slow start, I needed to catch up. Not with sex, but with friendships, and with knowing why people did the things they did. With all the things going on in my life right then, the last thing I wanted, or needed, was another emotional entanglement.

At dinner, I asked Dad if he minded if I took off the next day because I wanted to get in a round of golf with a new friend I'd made at the golf course. Mama asked me my new friends name. When I told her that her name was Shirley, she and Dad shared one of those looks. Jane made a rude comment about me getting back up on the horse that threw me, and Grace said I'd have fun breaking in a new saddle. Why was it that everyone always assumed that I was after sex? I wasn't. I didn't even think about sex with Shirley. I was happy when Mama started talking about Uncle Bunny and Elizabeth.

"Georgia called me today. She says that Bunny has been behaving strangely towards her all week. She's worried about him. I didn't have the heart to tell her what I think might be going on."

"Good. Stay out of it. If this Elizabeth finally gets Bunny out from under that woman's spell, it will be the best thing that's happened to Bunny in thirty years. I never understood the attraction he has for her."

"Georgia's a very attractive woman."

"No, you're wrong. She's pretty, but she isn't attractive. There's a difference. Ask Kenny. Brenda is the same way. Attractive is the whole package, not just looks." Mama looked at Dad. I knew, from things she had said in the past, that she was jealous of Mrs. Connor's looks. Several times, she had made comments about Dad and Mrs. Connor. She seemed pleased with what he'd just said.

Jane and Grace were taking the next day off work too, to go to Bolling to register for classes at the two year college there. I didn't know any of the details, but Mama had arranged for them to have a small apartment in a building that she and Uncle Bunny owned in Bolling. I assumed the cost was going to be made very reasonable, if not totally rent free. They were moving out in the middle of August. I'd already be back in school by then myself.

Dad had told Mama about the unsuccessful meeting with Mr. Tanner in Omaha, including the flare up with David and his father over taking in a partner and expanding. She had already been counting on the revenue stream that Dad had been showing her, on paper, for the past week or so. One thing about Mama, if you whetted her appetite for new earnings, she hated for it not to materialize. She had made several comments already about not being happy with the current hold up. Dad was sensitive to this kind of rebuke from Mama. He liked to build her hopes up, but he must have known how hard she'd take it if he couldn't deliver what he was promising her.

"Bertie, you needn't concern yourself over this. It's simply a matter of finding someone who will be able to perform on manufacturing and delivery. Tanner can't do it. Virginia will probably have a line on someone who can any day now. There are probably any number of companies that can build these machines for us. They aren't complicated." I jumped in when he said that last part.

"Actually, they are complicated Dad. The head mechanic at the plant told me that these machines Mr. Tanner made are as trouble free as any he'd ever worked on. He told me that they had less than half the down time of other machines he's worked on."

"You see, Thomas. It isn't just any manufacturer. Didn't you base your projections on the machines doing the same thing as Rob's machines, as far as repairs and operating efficiency?" Mama was a tiger when it came to money. Uncle Bunny was more relaxed about it than she was, but even he was a stickler for performance. That was the thing they admired most about Dad, he always performed.

"We don't know how other manufacturer's machines perform. That was one repair man talking. Who knows which machines he worked on before?"

"He said he's worked on almost all of them, Dad. He said Mr. Tanner's machines were the best he'd ever seen. Almost trouble free, that's what he said." I could see that Dad wasn't happy with me speaking up like that. I guess he didn't want to get Mama really started in on this.

"It doesn't matter. Tanner doesn't have the capacity to make more than five hundred machines a year anyway, and I can't wait that long to get my locations filled. We need to get set up before everyone else sees the same opportunity, and squeezes us out of that market."

"You better not let that happen to us, Thomas. Not after promising Bunny and me those returns. You have to do something to make sure it doesn't happen. If this man's machines are so much better than the rest, we should lock up his total production of them for the next few years at least. We're only talking about a few dollars more per machine."

"Bertie, you should leave all this to me. I'm already taking steps to position us well in this market. Have I ever failed when I set my mind to something?" Mama smiled and shook her head, no. "Well then, please have some faith. I believe I've earned that much."

After dinner, Dad went straight back to his study. He had already told me that he was working on a plan to make changes in the driver loading situation, and to standardize the loading of all trucks by a team of ten warehousemen, working from three in the afternoon until eleven. I was curious about what he'd found out about whether I was right that some drivers were leaving before five thirty. I went after him and knocked on his door.

"Come in."

"Hi Dad. I just wanted to ask you again if you minded about me taking time off tomorrow?"

"No, that's fine. You put me in a pickle out there with your Mom though. She isn't going to rest now until I come up with a working solution for this damn vending machine business."

"All you have to do is convince Mr. Tanner to make them for you."

"You're forgetting he can only make 500 a year, Kenny. I need at least 2,000 machines a year, for the next three years. If the business works out as well as I'm hoping, I'll need even more each year after that."

"Call David. Have him figure out a way to talk his dad into expanding. I bet Mama would be happy to invest in their company, especially if she knew that there was a firm buyer for everything they could produce. If he can't talk his dad into it, maybe you can hire him to start a new company that would manufacture your machines."

"I wouldn't feel right going around Jim that way, Kenny. Besides, Jim owns the design for his machines. We couldn't make machines based on his design, not without first securing his approval."

"You don't think he'd give it if it was to help his own son?"

"I don't know. It might be the most valuable thing his company owns, that design. It would be better if we could use the existing operation, and just expand on it."

"Buy him out, and hire him at a better salary than what he's making now. If he's having all the trouble with his banks that he says he's having, he probably isn't running his company as well as you would run it. You already know you want his machines. The company has to be worth a lot of money to you, based on its expanded value. It might be a good deal for all of you. We should fly over there and take a look at it. You could get a better idea about his machines, and he'd feel more comfortable being in his own familiar environment. It looked to me like he was worried about something at that meeting. Anyway you look at it, it would be interesting for us to get an idea of what it takes to make those machines. If we're going into the vending machine business, we don't want to be at the mercy of a supplier anyway."

"Are you looking to take over my job, Kenny?" Dad didn't look too happy when he asked me that.

"Probably not for another twenty years, but I would like to go visit Mr. Tanner's factory. I bet we'd learn a lot. Make sure David's going to be there. He would be on our side. He was pretty frustrated with his father."

"Kenny, I don't know if I told you this before, but I really admire the way you think about these kinds of things. I don't approach problem solving the same way you do. We make a good team because of that. It's like I have twice as many solutions to choose from when you're involved. I'll call Jim tomorrow and ask him if we can go over and tour his plant. Maybe we can do it on Friday. We'll take in a Cubs or White Sox game if one of them is at home. Their plant is about fifteen miles from Chicago. I'll ask Bertie if she wants to go too, and we'll make a weekend trip out of it."

"Why don't you invite Uncle Bunny too. He likes baseball."

"We could do that. Maybe we'd better take our golf clubs too. There are some nice courses in Illinois. We could make it a nice vacation trip, with the company footing all the bills. Let's go ask Bertie. If she agrees, we'll have her give Bunny a call."

We did, and Mama was real happy about the idea. I think she was already thinking about Mr. Tanner's company. Mama always had a very good business sense. She also liked Chicago. She said we'd have to go to the museum while we were there, and take in a play or go to a concert or something. She said something about Dad and I being Philistines. When she found out that Dad hadn't given up on getting some vending machines from Mr. Tanner, she was satisfied with how Dad was handling things again. They went into the library for drinks right after that, and I watched her give him a hard bump with her hip. I saw Dad smiling. I went into the kitchen to tell Gerta that I needed Hans to give me a ride to the club at seven fifteen.

I wanted to hit some balls and get warmed up before playing golf with Shirley. I wanted to play well. In the morning, I took pains with my grooming and with my clothes. I used some of the cologne that Mama had bought for me. I thought I might have used too much. When I went down to the kitchen at six forty five, Gerta confirmed right away that I had. She was holding her nose and waving a hand in front of her face. I went back upstairs and washed my face off with soap and a hot wash cloth. Back in the kitchen, Gerta came close and smelled me. She smiled and said I smelled good again.

I was hitting practice balls when Shirley showed up. I didn't see her mother drop her off. The first time I noticed her was when she set her golf bag down beside mine. I looked at my watch and it was seven forty.

"Hi. We tee off at eight fifteen. There's another twosome teeing off at eight, but it's Dr. and Mrs. Ferrall. They play quick, so we shouldn't be held up at all. Do you want to warm up a little first?"

Shirley was wearing a nice skirt with a loose fitting white blouse. Her outfit looked too dressy for golf. She did look nice though. She had small breasts, about the size of little lemons. Her brown hair was short, and she had a nice tan on her arms, legs, and face. Compared to Brenda or even Emily, she was plain looking, but she looked good enough to me. Wholesome, is the way I'd describe her looks. Thin and wholesome, but athletic looking too. When she smiled, I admired the whiteness of her teeth, and the hint of a dimple on her right cheek, near her upper lip. There was something about her. Not the same something that Brenda had, or even the animal magnetism that Bea had. Shirley radiated calm. Calm wasn't something I was used to getting from people. Maria, the cook at St. Cecelia's, she had the same quality. Being around her had always made me feel calmer too.

We hit balls slowly for the next fifteen minutes. Shirley's five iron was about fifteen yards shorter than mine. Somehow, I found that fact comforting. Her drives were about as long as mine though. I found that a little bit uncomfortable. I wasn't usually so competitive. I didn't say anything, but I made a mental note to look for a new driver, instead of the two wood I was using. This was funny, because, up until the time I saw she could drive as far as I could, I'd been very happy with my MacGregor Eye-o-Matic, two wood. I told myself it was a golfing decision, but I knew I was just trying to fool myself.

At eight ten, we went down and tied our bags behind the golf cart. We were both concentrating on our golf games for the front nine. We didn't speak very much, other than to say nice shot, or good putt. I holed one out of the green side bunker on the eighth, and she was very complimentary of the shot. It had been pure luck, but I still basked in her praise. I asked her if she wanted a soft drink or anything from the snack bar at the turn, but she said she was fine. I would have liked a drink, but I drove us over to the tenth tee.

"I talked to Denise last night, Kenny, when I canceled our golf date. She got mad when I accused her of making all those things up about you. She told me that Richard Connor was the one who told her about everything. Richard is Brenda's brother."

"I know who Richard is. We don't like each other. I guess you have to decide for yourself who you believe, Shirley. I fooled around with Emily, but we never did it. I already told you that Brenda was my girlfriend. We never had an orgy. I didn't even know what an orgy was until you explained it to me."

"I'm here today playing golf with you, Kenny. I guess that means I believe you, doesn't it? Besides, Denise made it sound like she knew you well when she was talking about you before. I asked her last night, and she admitted that she didn't know you personally. You aren't anything like she said you were. Conceited or snobbish."

"I don't have any reason to be conceited or snobbish. I told you I was an orphan for a long time, living with a bunch of other orphan boys in Bolling."

"One thing Denise did tell me about you was true though. She said you were handsome."

I didn't know what to say. I sure didn't think I was good looking. I was better looking than Uncle Bunny, but not as good looking as my Dad. If I had to rate myself on looks, I'd say I was about average. I didn't think too much about that. I'd never had to before. I was just me, Kenny Masters, or, Kenny Parsons now. Her telling me that made both of us blush. I wondered if she expected me to say something about her being pretty. I wasn't comfortable talking about looks.

"Thank you. I don't really know how I'm supposed to react when someone says things like that to me. I lived with boys for my whole life, so we didn't get to practice these kinds of things. I think you're nice, and I like the way you look. I wish I had your golf swing." She laughed when I said that, so I guess I did all right telling her those things. When we teed off for the back nine, we were both a little bit embarrassed I think. We didn't talk much until we got to the thirteenth green.

"I don't have any experience with boys, Kenny. That's one of the reasons I brought up all those things Denise told me about you. I'm not like some of those other girls she talked about. I'm not expecting to ever be like that."

"I'm glad you aren't Shirley. I'm looking for someone I can talk to, who I can ask questions about things I don't understand. I want a regular friend."

"You aren't interested in those other things?"

"I can't say I'm not interested in them. I'm a boy, so I guess that means I'm interested. I'm more interested in the things I told you about. It hurt me when I had a girlfriend before. I didn't know how to deal with all of the things that happened. I wasn't ready. I'm not ready to try anything like that again. Not right away at least."

"Does that mean you didn't ask me to play golf because you were attracted to me?"

"No, it means I think you're attractive and I admire your golf swing. I'm looking for a friend. I'm glad you're attractive, but right now, I'm more interested in getting myself a friend, and in learning how to be a good friend too."

"Oh. When I said those other things before, about my not being fast, I wasn't trying to say I didn't like you. I meant that I wasn't brought up to act like that with boys."

"I understood you. I think we can get along good. I like to talk about things, to try to figure them out. I've tried the trial and error method, and it hasn't worked out that well. I'm not complaining, because it was my own fault, the way things happened. All I'm telling you is that I want to think about things, and find out more about the best way for things to work well, before going ahead and having another girlfriend."

"I've never had a boyfriend, so I don't know how much help I could be at answering any of your questions."

"It isn't girlfriends I have questions about, it's girls, and other people too. I really never had so many different kinds of people to get along with before. I don't know what people expect from me. A lot of the time, I don't like the way people do things that affect me. Brenda was like that. She'd do things that affected me, but she wouldn't stop to think first, about how it would be for me. All she thought about was how it would be for her."

"Did you talk to her about that?"

"Several times. She would apologize and say she was sorry, or that she'd made a mistake. Then, after that, she'd do something else that was just as bad. In the end, I realized that, in her mind, what she wanted was the only thing that was important to her."

"You still care about her though?"

"That's another thing I wanted to talk to someone about. I don't want to be around her anymore, or even to see her, but I still think about her. Not how she is, but the way I wish she was."

"Do you still love her?"

"I don't know the answer to that question. I don't want to, that's for sure. We've always fought more than we ever got along good together. We kept getting each other in lots of trouble. Almost nothing we ever did turned out well for either of us."

"If she were here in front of us right now, Kenny, what would your reaction be?" That I had to think about. The idea of Brenda being right there, in front of us, was something that I was happy I didn't have to deal with.

"I'd probably start crying, or else I'd start screaming at her. I still haven't finished dealing with everything yet."

"You probably still love her then. I read a lot of my mother's romance novels. That's what always happens in those books. It always looks at first like there is a break up that can't ever be fixed, but then, they always seem to get back together anyway."

"We won't be getting back together. We're done, and that's final. I just haven't finished working out how to handle getting used to that part of it yet. I know that's what I'm going to do, but I don't quite know how to make it happen yet."

Shirley nodded her head. I wasn't sure if she was agreeing with what I said, or with what she'd said earlier. We went back to playing golf though. At the end of eighteen holes, I had beaten her by two strokes. It was a very thin margin of victory, and I'd had a couple of lucky breaks along the way, like that hole out from the bunker on the eighth, and a forty foot lag putt that just happened to drop in the hole on the sixteenth. She had played well enough to beat me most times. I'd shot an eighty.

Up in the restaurant, before she would agree to order, I had to explain to her about what Uncle Bunny had told me concerning lunches, and other expenses at the club. He said we needed more expenses at the club to show to the IRS, if we wanted to keep our membership as a tax write off. In the end, she ordered the fried shrimp, and I had my usual steak sandwich.

We talked about me having to leave early in August to go back to school at Clement Academy. I told her about the school, and about how I came home most weekends. Shirley was worried about having to start all over again in a new school with no friends. She had really missed her brother, the younger one, who'd left for Oregon the year before. Now, both her brothers were home for the summer, and she was enjoying having them close again. After lunch, I offered to have Hans drop her off on our way back home, but she said she hadn't mentioned anything to her mom about changing who she was going to be playing golf with. She called her brother to come pick her up, and I called Hans. I asked for her phone number, and she wrote it down on a coaster from the bar for me. We made small talk sitting on the stairs where we both had a view of the parking lot.

"Are you playing again Saturday, Kenny?"

"I don't know. My Dad is trying to set up a meeting with a supplier in Chicago for Friday. If he does, we'll all be going with him for a tour of the supplier's facility, and maybe a baseball game and some golf. My mother said we could go to a museum and maybe to a concert too. We don't get out of town too often. I've almost never been anywhere before. We'd make a long week end of it."

"Well, I enjoyed playing today. Thank you for the game, and for the lunch. I'll be home tonight, if you want to call me and talk some more. That's my own private phone line too. My father got it because he hates having his phone line tied up by calls for me. I usually don't get calls, but both my brothers did. If we're going to shake hands or something, you should do it before Ronnie gets here."

I hadn't been thinking about shaking hands or something, but when she said it, I realized that she was expecting me to do something. I leaned in and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. It wasn't much of a kiss, but it was better than a handshake. She didn't say anything, but she bounced right up and was smiling. She pointed at this old black Cougar coming up the parking lot driveway.

"That's Ronnie, my brother. I'd introduce you to him, but I'm supposed to be here with Denise. Bye. Thanks again." Right behind where her brother had stopped to wait for her, I saw Hans driving up and stopping. Shirley got into her brother's car, and they drove off, heading back down the country club driveway. I gave them a couple of minutes head start before I stood up, walking over to get in front with Hans.

"Was that your new girlfriend I saw getting in that car with another boy?"

"That was her brother, and she isn't my girlfriend. Sometimes I think you're missing all the action I was having before, Hans. Are you living vicariously, through me?"

"No. I just thought you'd be more like Bunny. It was fun driving for Bunny. You used to be fun to drive for, but now you've gotten too serious. You're young, Kenny. You should be having a good time while it's your vacation."

We got home, and Mama told me that Dad had phoned, and our trip to Chicago was on for Friday.

Edited by G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 22

I was excited about the Chicago trip. I hadn't gotten out to do that many things, living at the orphanage, so I was really looking forward to all the things Mama and Dad were talking about. I can't say I was a big baseball fan, but the thought of actually seeing big league ball players playing, that was a thrill for me.

I waited until five o'clock before phoning Shirley. I was a little nervous, even though she had invited me to call her. The phone only rang once before she picked it up and said hello.

"Shirley? This is Kenny."

"I know it is, Kenny. You're the only one that has my new number, except for Denise, and I don't think she'll be calling me anytime soon."

"My Dad called and told my Mom that our trip is all set for Friday. I'll be gone until Monday morning." Shirley didn't say anything. "I was hoping we could play another round of golf together when I get back. I'm sure my father would let me have the time off."

"Are you sure it's all right with your parents, having me as your guest?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Our membership lets us have ten free guests a month. My Uncle Bunny was the one who helped the country club make changes to their charter a few years ago. He took some extra membership perks, instead of a cash payment. This is one of the things he got for us. He's an attorney."

"When Denise and I played, it cost fifty dollars for having a guest play."

"That's only on the weekends. On weekdays, it's thirty five for guests. We go over our free limit sometimes, especially with Grace and Jane playing a few times a week. Uncle Bunny says that's a good thing, and it helps us with the IRS. Jane and Grace work for us, so it makes it seem like a legitimate corporate expense, having the membership. Uncle Bunny says the last thing we want is to have only family using the club. He's always after me to go out there and eat, and to take people there with me."

"Denise said you did that to show off." She said that quickly, hardly waiting for me to finish speaking.

"Maybe that's what she believes, but that isn't the reason I do it. Most of the time, it's either my guests or my family that eats with me, like today. I'm sorry if you'd rather believe Denise than me."

"I didn't mean it that way, Kenny. I was telling you what she said, not what I think. I enjoyed having lunch with you. I'm just not used to someone not caring about how much things cost. We've always been careful with our money."

"I know what you mean. I almost never saw any money until a year ago. It isn't as though I'm used to spending money either. My parents, and my Uncle, they are used to it. Part of it is that they want me to get used to it too. Making money is important to all of them, but spending it isn't. They have a lot of money, but they still like making more of it. It's like a serious game they play together, where all of them win. I've been going to work with my dad, trying to learn how he does things. Making money is like the family business. It doesn't matter what business it is, as long as it has a good return for their time, and their capital investment."

"I think business is kind of boring."

"You'd think it would be, but it isn't. It's exciting, trying to figure out the best way to do something. That's one of the reasons we're all going to Chicago. My Dad has this idea for making money with vending machines. We're going to visit the man who makes these machines and try to find a way to get him to make as many as my Dad needs. We met with him in Omaha, but he said he couldn't do what we needed him to."

"You could go somewhere else. Lots of companies make vending machines."

"We thought of that, but this man makes really good machines. They work better than other ones. Our company has been using his machines for a long time. We have a big investment in the machines we already have, and it would be better if we could keep doing business with him."

"I don't know much about business. My Dad says the salesmen make businesses go. He's a salesman though, so that's why he says it."

"No, he's right. My Dad says that too. He says it doesn't do any good to make the best product in the world, not if no one knows about it. The salesmen get people to try the product."

"Everybody knows about the product my dad sells, it's carpet. He sells to the people who have stores that sell carpet. I know that's boring. The company he works for makes it, and he's the one who has people out selling it to the carpet stores."

"Well, there's different kinds of business. Your Dad's kind might be boring, but not my Dad's kind."

"I was thinking about what you said today, about not wanting another girlfriend. Did you say that because of what I said about Denise saying you were handsome, and me saying she was right?"

"I don't know why I said it. I was thinking about Brenda, about me not wanting to go through something like that again. I didn't mean anything insulting by it. It wasn't like I thought you were coming on to me or anything."

"I've been thinking about why you might have said it. I thought you might have gotten the wrong idea because I canceled with Denise to play golf with you instead."

"I didn't think anything about it to get a wrong idea. I was happy that you did though. It isn't much fun to play alone, so I wouldn't have played if you hadn't agreed to come play too."

"Most guys think I'm too tall. How come you haven't said anything about how tall I am?"

"If you were taller than me, I might have, but you aren't."

"I might be soon, I'm still growing. My Dad is six foot six inches, and my mother is six one. Both my brothers are almost as tall as Daddy."

"Maybe you will be taller, but I'll still outweigh you." Shirley laughed then. I knew the topic had been a serious one to her, but I wasn't certain why. "Don't you like being tall? It makes it easier for you to hit the ball farther."

"I don't like anything that makes me stand out. I get teased a lot, because of being so tall, and for being so thin."

"Not by me. I like watching you hit golf balls. You have such a smooth swing. Did you get a chance to watch my mother swing?"

"Yes, last Saturday. Jane and Grace told me how good she is too. They said her timing is perfect."

"Your swing reminds me of hers."

"You didn't say anything when I said I was thin."

"You are thin."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You didn't tell me I was as flat as a board."

"Why would I tell you something like that?"

"Everybody does. Even my own family. It's better if we get it out in the open, so we can go on to the next thing."

"Well, in the first place, it isn't accurate, and in the second place, why would it matter if you were?"

"Believe me, it matters. Why do you say it isn't accurate? Did you see something I didn't?"

"I thought I did. It looked like you had something up top. Not huge, but something. You certainly aren't totally flat."

"How did we get to talking about my looks like this?"

"I think it has something to do with what I said about not wanting another girlfriend, you saying I was handsome, and you wanting to find out what I think of the way you look."

"Okay, what do you think about that?"

"I think you look nice. What do you think of my golf swing?"

"Kenny, I'm serious. If we're going to be friends, you have to be serious too. You've got more experience than I probably ever will have. You're a boy, and you see me with a boy's eyes. I want to know what you see, and what you think of what you see."

I stopped to listen to the words she was saying to me, and what she was really saying to me. I thought they were two different things. For some reason, our conversation had taken on some really serious aspects. I'd been thinking about myself, about what I needed from Shirley. She wasn't going to drop this subject until she was satisfied she knew where I stood. The problem was, I hadn't given any of that very much thought, being too busy paying attention what I wanted from Shirley. I was going to have to navigate my way through this potential mine field.

"I think you're sexy looking. I like to stand behind you when you're hitting a golf ball, so I can watch your butt muscles tighten up when you make a swing." There was a tiny gasp into my earphone, and then silence. After fifteen seconds, she giggled.

"You just made that up." I could hear a pleading note to her voice. I knew she wanted me to deny making it up. To affirm that I had meant it.

"Now you think I'm a pervert, I bet."

"No, now I'm sitting here blushing, Kenny. I told you I don't have any experience with boys. I wasn't expecting you to say that though. Now I'm going to be self conscious when you're standing behind me."

"I wasn't going to tell you that. I do want us to be friends. It isn't like I'm spending all my time looking at your butt. It was just something I noticed, that I liked. I like your smile too, and that little dimple, and how white your teeth are. I also like how calm you seem when we're talking. I can think around you."

"You can stop now. Do you want me to tell you what I see when I look at you?" I was curious, but there was one more test I needed to perform. I had a good feeling about Shirley, and everything I'd said to her was the truth. What I hadn't told her was that she didn't remind me one bit of Brenda or Emily. I needed to discover whether or not she'd listen to what I said to her.

"No, don't tell me." Again, there was a period of silence on her end.

"How are you going to get to Chicago?" I almost exhaled into the phone because I was so relieved she'd passed that test.

"We're flying. My parent's company has a plane. We keep it in Bolling. Listen, Shirley, I really do want to know what you see when you look at me. I said I didn't because I wanted to know if you'd listen to what I wanted or not. The other friends I had, they almost never did, and it really bothered me."

"You have your own airplane?"

"No, the company owns it, but we use it for business things. It saves a lot of time when we want to go somewhere but come back right away, when we're done. Tell me what you see."

"I already told you I think you're handsome. So does Denise. I like it that you're tall. You have real long eyelashes too, and your hair is so dark. I like to stand behind you too, when you hit the ball. That was embarrassing for me to tell you all that."

"We're friends, right? We can tell each other things like that. When I was little, and living in the orphanage, I was pretty weird. I was afraid to make any friends, because most of the kids would come and go. I'd feel bad when they would get adopted and leave. I wouldn't act nice around any of the people who came to see about adopting me. Since I've come here, the only friends that worked out well for me were older adults. The rest haven't worked out too well for me. I want to be able to be friends with people my own age."

"If we're friends, does that mean all we can be is friends?"

"I think it means I need to have someone be my friend before I'd be willing to have it be anything more than that. All the other, emotional and physical stuff, can't work out without having friendship and trust first. I have had some problems in the past with trust. The things with Brenda have just made them worse. Does that make sense to you?"

"After I left today, I thought about all the things you said about Brenda, and how you felt about her. I don't think I can compete with her. I don't know why, but that made me worry about being your friend. I might really start to like you a lot, and then the two of you will get back together."

"There aren't that many things I'm sure of, Shirley, but I am sure that isn't going to happen. I've taken steps to make sure she stays away from me. One of the reasons I want to have a friend is to see the difference between what I had with Brenda, or having a normal relationship with someone else my own age. I think that would help me to not feel so bad about what happened with Brenda and me. Sometimes, I worry that it might be something wrong with me. In my mind it seems like her fault, but maybe something I said or did caused it."

"What happened? You never told me what, just that it was something bad that hurt you."

"She lied to me. She did something, and when I gave her a chance to tell on herself, she didn't."

"How is that a lie? I guess I don't understand."

"I asked her if there was anything else, like something that had happened earlier, and she said no, but there was. That was the lie."

"Denise said that Richard told her that she had given herself to another boy. A friend of Denise's."

"Did Denise tell you who it was?"

"No, only that he was a friend of hers."

"There was one, and then there was another, after. It was the second one that caused the big problem."

"How could that be your fault?"

"I wouldn't do what she wanted me to the first time, and the second time it was probably more of the same thing. That was how she punished me for not doing what she wanted."

"That's sick, Kenny. If she punished you that way twice, wouldn't she keep on doing that? It sounds like a pattern of behavior to me."

"That's what I think, except things like that always seem to happen to me. It has been like that ever since I can remember. That's why I have a hard time trusting that something good is going to stay good for me."

"Are you playing golf again tomorrow?"

No, I'm going to work with my father. I don't want to take advantage of him by asking for too much time off from work. I can come hit some practice balls at five thirty though. Do you think you would want to come out and hit some with me?"

"I'll have to ask one of my brothers if they'll drive me out and pick me up afterwards. They aren't home now. Can you call me tomorrow afternoon? I'd know for sure by then."

After we had gotten off the phone, I thought about what each of us had said. There were some questions I had about what she meant when she said things. That whole part about what she thought of my looks, and what I thought of hers. Brenda and I had talked a lot about her looks, but not so much about mine. Bea was the same way about us talking about her looks. I was also starting to think it had been a mistake to bring Brenda's name up in this conversation. It kind of sounded to me like Shirley was looking for more of a personal relationship than friendship. I wasn't sure if that was a good idea. Maybe I should find some boy to be friends with. Someone a little older than me, who could steer me in the right direction about social things.

I started thinking about Shirley in a different way then. Maybe Hans was right. He said you don't stop after you get started. That made me think of Uncle Bunny. He was a lot older, but everyone I knew said he got along great with people. He and I talked a lot anyway. Maybe I should explain this to him, and ask him for advice. It would be weird having him for a friend too. We couldn't very well hang around together that much. One thing he had going for him, something that a lot of other people didn't, I trusted him already. If he told me something, I felt confident it was going to turn out to be true, and in my best interests.

Later that night, when I took my shower, I thought about Shirley and me, the two of us playing golf naked. It turned out okay, and I didn't think of Emily, Brenda or Bea once. I wondered if she was going to end up taller than me. Even just thinking about her in the shower made me feel a little bit guilty. I wondered if I should warn her that I did things like that? We needed to be honest if we were going to be friends. When I decided I'd tell her, I felt better about things. I wondered if she'd get mad, or if she'd ask me what I was thinking about her. I didn't even get to the part where I worked out an answer, in case she asked me. Instead, I made another trip back to my bathroom. I made sure to deadbolt my door before I fell asleep.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 23A

We went to see the Cubs beat the Mets Friday afternoon. Dennis Eckersley was the starting and winning pitcher for the Cubs. It was their third win in a row, but they were still seven and a half games out of first place in their division. The game ended 2-1, and it wasn't as exciting as some other ones I'd seen on television, except that I was there in Wrigley Field watching this one.

We had gotten over to the Tanner plant before eight o'clock. It was a lot smaller than I had thought it would be. There were six people other than the Tanners that were working. Three were operating machines to stamp or cut out different parts for the machines, and the other three were busy cutting steel rods and snipping sheet metal. David told us they made all of the component parts for ten machines first, then they assembled and stored these, before starting in on another ten. They made one product, the machine that we used. They had been in business for twenty five years. Mr. Tanner had started the company with his brother, but the brother had died of cancer about ten years before. Since then, Mr. Tanner only made this one design. Before, Jim's brother used to make several different designs. Making each machine the way they were, it took a whole week to make ten machines. It looked to me like no one was working very hard or fast. Mr. Tanner and David would supervise every step of the process, inspecting each finished component before placing them in storage bins for later assembly.

My father told me that almost everything they were doing could have been automated. Later, Jim and David cleared a space towards the storage bins and assembled a machine for us. It took the two of them an hour to put one machine completely together. Watching the two of them working together, was like watching a complicated dance. It was incredible. When they were done, I felt like clapping, that was how good they were. There was no wasted motion, and they made subtle improvements as they went along, shaving an edge here, or shortening a spring loaded clip there. When they were done, they filled the machine with bags of product, testing each button and lever, making further adjustments as needed.

When they were done, Craig and Glenn, two of their other workers, came over and did the same thing that David and his father had done. They worked together just as well as the other duo had, and their machine was assembled and tested in about one hour also. After those demonstrations, Jim and David, and the four of us from Ridgeline, went out to an early lunch together.

"Jim, that final assembly you do is simply amazing. I've never seen two people work together so well before." Dad was really excited, and you could tell he was, just from the sound of his voice. He was quickly echoed by Mama, Uncle Bunny, and me. "I'm sure it's that terrific assembly process, and those final fittings, and adjustments of everything that account for the superiority of your machines. You makes sure that everything fits together so evenly and precisely. You do it so quickly too. How much do you pay your workers?" Jim looked concerned at first when Dad asked him that question. It was one thing to show someone how you did your assembly, it was another thing entirely to discuss your internal workings. Jim already knew that my father was looking to get an awful lot of new vending machines. He would have been foolish not to suspect Dad of thinking about doing the manufacturing himself.

"Labor costs account for about forty per cent of our building costs. Parts and machinery another forty per cent, and fixed overhead accounts for the rest. We don't have the mark up that we need to grow."

"How long have Craig and Glenn worked for you?"

"Craig has been here about nine years. Glenn for about a year. He's just getting to the point where he can carry his share of the build out load. The rest of them are just as good. All of them were trained by either David, Craig or myself. Craig is my son in law, married to Nell, my youngest."

"You can train people to assemble your machines like that in a year?"

"Some less, some a little bit longer. More than half the people we try, they don't work out. You need to have the ability to move quickly, and to use the free time to go bring the next parts needed. You have to be able to look at something and see where it has to be cut, bent or smoothed so that it's a good fit. Not everyone can focus or concentrate for an hour at a time, like they'd need to with our type of assembly process. When we train someone new, it takes three hours to assemble a machine. We like for it to take one hour, start to finish."

"Why don't you buy your parts cut or bent to your specs? Nothing that I saw needs to be custom cut or bent."

"You're thinking we could spend our whole day doing nothing but assembling? Can't be done. David and I can assemble three a day if we have to, but at the end of that day, we're both pretty fagged out. David says each assembly is like taking a final test was, back when he was at school. The first one is okay, but after the second, you really feel wrung out. After three, you can barely stand to walk anymore, and you're going to have a headache. That's the reason we can't make more than about ten machines a week. We find that two assemblies per man, per week, works out about best."

"Most of the really challenging work seems to be with the internal workings. Why not train someone to build the frames for you so that you can finish up the internal workings? The coin mechanism seems standard enough to install too. The artistry is in fitting all those internals so that they work perfectly." I noticed that David was nodding in agreement with what Dad was saying. Jim was noticing that too, and he didn't look happy about it.

"Tom, we've been doing this for twenty five years. We already know what we need to do before we'll put out a machine with our name on it. We handle every single part that goes into one of our machines. David thinks money is the cure, and it would be if all I wanted to do was turn out a bunch of crap, like the big vending guys do. Some of the first machines we ever built are operating in places, even today. They're just as good today as they were when we first put them out there."

"Jim, I still need two thousand machines a year from you. You need to find a way to build them, while still maintaining their quality and reliability." Dad was looking at Jim and David both when he spoke. That was when Mama spoke up.

"Jim, could you do seven hundred machines a year if you had to train four new people at the same time. People to replace David and Craig and two other workers?" Mama was smiling at Jim when she asked him.

"Hell no, and I wouldn't even try to. We don't need to, all of us are getting by right now, just the way things are." Jim answered her question like she had insulted him. He was starting to get defensive. I guess he thought none of us understood English. He kept telling us no whenever we asked him for any changes at all.

"David, if you had your own shop, just like your Dad's, but you had to get started with only one trained guy and four new ones, how long before you could turn out seven hundred machines a year? Machines as good as what you now make."

"He couldn't, and I wouldn't allow it if he could. This is my company, my design, and I'm the one who makes those kinds of decisions. I say no, we can't, and we won't. I'm sorry, but you people refuse to listen to what I'm telling you. You want two thousand machines a year, you can just go somewhere else with your business. That's my final word on it." Jim got up and walked out of the restaurant. David stayed. Jim looked back once, then shook his head, and left.

"That's what Craig and I have been putting up with for years. He's the most close minded man I ever met. There's only one way to do things, and that's his way. I'm thirty two years old, I'm married and have two little ones. Craig and Nell have three kids. All of us are just scraping by, just because he won't let us do anything different than what he and Uncle Leon started out doing. There have been a lot of changes over the years in fabrication, but not at our shop. He still hates it when I use my power screw driver and the power drills and sockets. It used to take us two hours to put a rack together, but now it's an hour. That stuff he was telling you about not being able to assemble more than one a day, that's his weakness, not ours. Craig and I can both assemble four a day if we had to.

"Dad gets headaches, and he gets tired. He's sixty one years old, and he only assembles, at most, once a week, and that's the only real exercise he gets. To answer your question, if I had Ricky, and four new guys, I could probably put out seven hundred my first year. I'd set the new guys to doing the easy parts, and Ricky and I would do the tricky stuff. Craig and Glenn could do the same if they had four new guys. We could train the new guys in the more complicated assembly as we went along. Craig brought Glenn along just that way, after my Dad said he was going to fire him. Glenn is a good man, but he has trouble sometimes absorbing new things. Craig trained him a little bit at a time, but made him work extra to make up for being slow to catch on. It never slowed us down, not once."

"I'm not going to go around your father, David. We want his machines and his design, but we aren't thieves. You'll need to work on him, and let him know you still want it to be a family business. This is a good opportunity for all of us. If you can convince him to expand to make two thousand machines a year for us, we'll arrange the financing for new machinery, and we'll guarantee things with your suppliers. You can keep sole ownership of the company, we just want those machines."

I noticed that both Mama and Uncle Bunny looked a little uneasy with the way Dad told David he didn't want any ownership in the company. I had heard Mama talking about how much better it would be if we owned the vending machine building company too. I think Dad was bowing to Jim's not wanting partners, and the fact that the company was really only the people working at it. The Tanner's had developed a system that made each machine fit smoothly to all of the parts that were in it. Each part was made to fit well with all the other individual parts. That was their only secret or advantage. Their machines worked better because each one was altered, as needed, so that it was as good as it could be.

"Mr. Parsons, I'm sorry about how Dad acted. I don't think Nell or Craig or I can change his mind though. This is how he's always been. Craig and I have designed and built prototypes of our own ideas. We have three designs that we think are big improvements on Dad's design. One of them is the same size as Dad's, but it has four extra slots for products, and a quarter gum dispenser built on the side of it. We have a small shop set up in Craig's garage, if you'd like to take a look at them. Craig and I have been talking for several years about going off on our own. We're both tired of having to fight with him every time we want to try something that's a little bit different."

Dad set up a time on Saturday to come by and look at Craig and David's machines. After we gave David a ride back to the Tanner shop, we drove over to our hotel rooms. We had two suites at our hotel, and it was just across from the Lincoln Park Zoo. The hotel was older, but everything was nice, and Mama said it was one of her favorite hotels, from back when she was a little girl. I decided I'd take the other bedroom in Uncle Bunny's suite. I asked him first, and he said that would be fine with him. I noticed Mama smiling when I told her I'd be sleeping in Uncle Bunny's suite. From the room, you could see Lake Michigan and the Zoo.

We had an early dinner at an Italian restaurant over on West Webster Avenue. I had the chicken cacciatore with polenta, which was excellent. Dad and Uncle Bunny both had something called Steak O'fame, and Mama had a nice salad and a Giambotta with beef tenderloin. Dad and I helped her with part of it, since it was too much for her. They had great bread in that restaurant too. By the time we got to Wrigley Field, all of us were stuffed. I saw Ryne Sandberg and Ron Cey talking together about twenty feet in front of me. They were laughing about something. Leon Durham was a lot bigger than I thought he would be. Dennis Eckersley looked like every single pitch was important to him. I could see his face every time he got someone out. He took the whole game personally.

Saturday, we went to the address David had given us. We met Nell and her three kids. In the garage, we spent two hours looking over the three working prototypes that Craig and David had designed and built. Only one of the machines was big enough for what we were doing at Mr. Lucas's company. This one had everything Mr. Tanner's had, and more. The one drawback was the price, over six hundred dollars. David told us he could deliver it for five hundred and thirty though, without the gum vending device attached. After fifteen minutes, Mama went back in the house and visited with Nell and her children. I thought that was rather strange, since Mama was so excited about David's invitation the day before. We had barely gotten to the part where David and Craig were dismantling everything, to show us the innards, when she just left us there, going back inside the house. Later in the day, we found out that she was on a fact finding mission of her own.

After the tour, Dad and the rest of us drove over to Jim's house. David, and Craig followed in Craig's car. Mr. Tanner seemed surprised to see all of us again. I guess he thought we'd be leaving him pretty much alone after the blow up in the restaurant the day before. All six of us were standing out on the porch for ten minutes before Jim opened the door and allowed us to come inside. David got things started by telling his father that he and Craig had shown us their own prototypes.

"Well, I knew you guys would do that. I can't stop you from chasing after your foolishness, but I've already told both of you that I won't let you use my shop to build them. My design, and Leon's, has stood the test of time. Who knows the problems your design might have? It's never been tested in actual use anywhere. These get rich quick schemes you two keep trying to come up with, they don't work Dave. Craig, I'm surprised you keep letting him talk you into these things."

"Pop, we're both serious this time. We've both had enough of trying to scratch out a living your way. It isn't like it was when you and Uncle Leon were just getting started. I can't feed my family on what I'm making."

"Both you boys make the same as I do, Dave. I make out just fine on it. You should be able to too."

"Pop, I didn't get a chance to buy my house when they only cost ten thousand dollars like you did. Twenty thousand a year isn't enough for either of us, not with a wife and kids and a mortgage to worry about. Every year we pay the banks more in interest than the three of us take home. We keep busting our asses, and the banks and suppliers are the only ones getting ahead. I can make more taking a factory job somewhere else."

"Then do it! I'm not begging you to stay. You're free, white and twenty one, Dave. Do whatever the hell you want to. Just don't come crawling back to me with your tail between your legs when they lay you off or close down your factory job and you can't pay your house payments anymore."

"Jim, why do you always have to believe the worst is going to happen? You've seen our prototypes, and you know damn well that they're as good as your machines, and probably a damn sight better. Every time we try to get you to listen to us, you go back to warning us about how we'll both wind up out on the street, without food for our families. I'm like Dave, I'm sick of working so hard with nothing to show for it. These people came to you and offered you everything we'd need to get ourselves out of the hole we're all dug into, and you just turned your back on their offer. You never even checked with what Dave and I might want." This was Craig speaking, and as he talked, a lot of his frustration came to the surface. He was angry. This had apparently been building up between all of them for a long time. Our arrival had just forced it to the surface.

"You can just get your ass out of my house Craig Finch. Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that? If it wasn't for Nell, you'd have been out on the street looking for work years ago. I keep you around because of her and your kids. I made you an equal partner with us, and this is how you repay me?"

"That's bullshit, Jim. I've always carried my weight, and more besides. If it wasn't for Nell and me, Davey would have left you years ago. He keeps on staying because we tell him you're going to give way sooner or later. These people here, they want to give us what we need to make a real business for ourselves. You can either be a part of it, like it always was, or we can go off and do it without you. Your choice, Jim. Either way you decide, there's going to be changes. Dave and me, we're either doing this new thing with you, or else we're both leaving to go do something else. We don't mind working for someone else until we can get an order for some of our prototypes, and enough money to start up on our own."

"Is he telling the truth, Dave, are you wanting to leave too?" Dave looked at his father, but he nodded his head that it was true.

"Pop, I'd rather do this with you, but I'm not going to keep working for nothing. You call this our get rich quick schemes, but Craig and me, we're just trying to make a decent life for ourselves and our family. Nell is sick over this, but even she knows we can't keep on doing what we've been doing. Terri feels bad too, and she knows how torn up I am over this. All of us see the same thing. It's only you that thinks we can continue to get by like we have been."

Mr. Tanner turned on Dad then. "This is how you do business, Parsons? You come in and turn a man's whole family against him, just to make yourself a few extra dollars? We were getting by pretty well before you came into the picture with all your big talk. I hope you're satisfied now, setting both these boys against me. I've been in business a long time, and I know what it takes. Tanner Brothers has always built top quality equipment, and nothing else but. You want to teach these boys how to make a bunch of inferior crap, well you go right ahead. I won't lift a finger to stop you. I'm not going to be any part of it though. All of you, you can just get the hell out of my house. Dave, I expected better of you. I'm not surprised at Craig, but I always thought you were better than this. You're both fired if you haven't gotten this foolishness out of your heads by Monday morning at eight sharp. I mean that too, Monday, at eight. After that, I don't want to hear anymore about these ideas you have for new designs."

All of us filed out of the house and went out to our cars. The looks on David and Craig's faces showed how shocked and upset they both were. Uncle Bunny hadn't said a word ever since we first got to Craig's house, two hours earlier. Now, he spoke up for the first time.

"I'm sure he'll calm down soon, and he'll regret those things he just said. I know you're both upset, but this will all blow over. He's just overexcited."

"Mr. Chalmers, you don't know him the way we do. He was actually a lot calmer than we expected him to be. This isn't anything new for the three of us. We've been fighting him on this for longer than I'd like to remember. Craig and me, we're going to both go out now and get ourselves new jobs. We already talked it over with our wives. We'd appreciate it if you gave us your card, Mr. Parsons. If we catch on with good shops, maybe we can put something together, so we can build you those machines."

Mama had been listening to David talking. After he quit talking, she jumped right in. "We can't wait for those machines, David. Why don't you let us hire you? We'll pay you each thirty thousand a year, and we'll buy everything you need to get started. We'll make some kind of deal so that, with every thousand machines you build for us, you'll each get two per cent ownership, until you each have twenty four per cent. You contribute your designs and your expertise, and we'll contribute the machinery to get you started, and the building. How does that sound?"

"Bertie, who are you planning on selling these machines to? I'm not buying them for our company. I already told you I don't want to go around Jim like that." Dad was loud and clear when he voiced his objection. Uncle Bunny didn't say anything.

"Thomas! David and Craig are out of work, at least partly as a result of our visit here. The least we can do is see to it that they and their families don't suffer because of us." Craig and David were both trying to follow along as my parents stood by their rental car, discussing the future of them, and of their families. It was a little uncomfortable for me. I was afraid that my parents would get into a big fight over it. If that happened, I didn't want it to take place so publicly, or so far from home. Mama was very likely to go into one of her depressions. Dad must have had a similar thought too, because he nodded to my mother and told her to get into the car.

Uncle Bunny and I were both settled in the back seat before either of them got into the front. I heard Dad inviting Craig and David to have dinner with us at our hotel at seven that evening. He told them that he and Mama needed to have a talk before all of us sat down for another discussion. Mama told them to bring their wives too, and we drove back to the hotel. There was a portable bar set up in my parents suite at the hotel, so that is where we went when we got back. Dad mixed the drinks while Mama spoke with Uncle Bunny in a low voice. Everyone in the room knew that Mama was trying to get Uncle Bunny on her side for the talk with Dad.

"Bertie, you know I don't like it when you go off on these tangents of yours. This is a business decision, and that is in my purview, not yours."

"It is either an acquisition, or a wholly new business, depending on your point of view, Thomas. I have the right to decide what I wish to invest in. I liked the way those men used their initiative to design and build their own machines. While you were busy looking at their machines, I was inside getting to know Nell and her children. She's been hoping for years that Craig will get work somewhere else. She told me that Jim takes advantage of Craig all the time, and then ridicules him in front of her and her children. She says that he's kept the business small deliberately, to keep Craig and David dependent on him for their livelihood. Do you know that Jim's the cosigner on both boy's car loans, and that Craig's house is in Jim's name. They own nothing themselves, and that's how Jim wants it."

"This is their personal business, Bertie. It doesn't concern us. I'm trying to get the company's need for quality vending machines taken care of. I don't have either the time or the inclination to listen to some soap opera about their personal problems."

"Thomas, I agree we need to present a unified front on this. I don't want to do another penny's worth of business with Jim Tanner. I realize that you have the final say on all of this, at least pertaining to the direction the company moves in. I'm telling you now that I don't want to do any business with Jim Tanner. I do think it would be a good business decision to control the production of our own vending machines though. I don't want us to have no control over such an important part of our business. Craig and David are both young and ambitious. If we don't get them working for us, someone else will snap them up. If they do, then we're no closer to solving our problem than we were before we flew here. I'm willing, and capable of doing this on my own, if you make that necessary. To me, this isn't us going around Jim, or taking anything away from him. This is taking the opportunity that now exists and making the most of it, for all our sakes. Nell also told me that if Craig and David quit, all those other men will quit too. No one likes working for Jim. They stay because of Craig and David."

"So, in essence, you're asking me to help put Jim out of business?"

"He's only in business now because of his son and son in law, Thomas. Nell told me that he expenses everything personal through his company, and that's how he managers to live so well on his salary, while the boys have to struggle and make do on theirs. He fudges his personal expenses around, and then trys to make it look like he's a better money manager than they are."

"Who are you going to sell these machines to, Bertie? That's the question you need to be asking yourself." Dad was smiling when he asked her that, but the smile wasn't in his eyes, and not in the tone of his voice either.

"I'll sell them to the competition if I have to, Thomas. Perhaps Consolidated Foods is looking for a new business model to make some inroads of their share value losses. You forget that I am my father's daughter. I too can be ruthless if I'm forced into being that way. I'm going to make them the same offer at dinner tonight, Thomas. I hope we'll be going into this together, but I'm prepared to go it alone if need be."

"Bunny, will you and Kenny excuse us for a few minutes please? Bertie and I have some talking to do. Talking that might be better done without others being present. We'll call you when we're finished, but in any case, it will be before dinner."

Uncle Bunny and I left, going over to our own suite. I was nervous, but I also didn't want to be around them when they were arguing. I wanted to talk to Uncle Bunny anyway. I wanted to tell him about Shirley, and to ask his advice about the best way for me to learn how to act like a normal kid would around other kids. I hoped he would be willing to agree to be my mentor in this area. He pretty much got along with everyone. Everybody liked Uncle Bunny.

"Don't worry, Kenny. Tommy just wants to be alone so he can surrender to Bertie. I've seen this happen a hundred times. He'll tell her she can have her way on this, and then the two of them will seal the deal with a little bump and tickle. I think he set this whole thing up this way. He didn't want to lose out on those vending machines, but he still needed something to make it seem to Rob Lucas that he'd tried not to go around Jim Tanner. Jim is Rob's friend, and Rob plays a pivotal role in the expansion Tommy has planned for the company. This makes it convenient for Tommy."

"You really think he does things like that?"

"Of course he does. I've helped him do things just like that for years. Tommy likes to project an image, all of us do, but his image is more important to him than most of ours are to us. If Bertie hadn't had the idea, I would have. Why else did you think he wanted us to come with him? Tommy is a master at orchestrating these things. Jim played right into his hands in Omaha. Tommy wanted his own company, and now he's going to get one. Not exactly like he had planned, but close enough."

"I must be stupid, Uncle Bunny. It never looked like that to me. I thought he brought Mama because he wanted us all to have a vacation together."

"He probably did. This is how he relaxes. Tomorrow, all four of us are going over to the Museum of Science and Industry, to look at their exhibits. That will be Tommy's concession to Bertie's request that we participate in some cultural activity. She would prefer the Opera or the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, but that is what he'll offer her. The Museum is as close as Tommy was willing to get to what he calls "the artsty-fartsy crowd". Bertie will let him get away with it, but only because he is going along with her idea of setting those boys up into business."

"What do you think of him using her like that?"

"I love it. They both got what they wanted. I did too. Those boys and their families will be a lot better off too. The only one hurt is Jim Tanner, and by all reports, he's a pretty miserable specimen to be around. You know, don't you Kenny, that I'm grateful to you for your help in getting Bertie and Tommy to stay together? I was absolutely convinced that his little fling with Bea had finally cooked his goose. Tommy has made me a lot of money through the years, and I'm hoping he makes me quite a bit more too. That's why I added my own million dollars to the trust that Bertie and Tommy had me set up for you. I'm also looking out for your interests with the Coulter's, and not charging you for doing so. This is the world that family lives in, Kenny. What's good for one of us is usually good for all of us."

"I appreciate that Uncle Bunny. Not just the money either. I like having someone that I can count on. I really do think of you as my Uncle now, and I trust you. I've been hoping we could talk about some of the things I feel like I need help with. The kinds of things my parents wouldn't be good at advising me about."

"Are you talking about Brenda? I might not be the most impartial one to ask about her."

"No, I'm done with Brenda. At least, I'm hoping I am. You had me checked out at the orphanage before picking me, so you know I have trouble relating to other kids. Mostly because I never have before. I think I grew up concentrating on the wrong things. I don't really know how to act around kids my own age. I've always tried to think like an adult, because I thought I needed to, in order to survive at St. Cecelia's. Adults run things, and I was part of an elaborate system run by adults. Now, I need to be able to act and think like a regular kid, but I have no points of reference to go by. I really didn't have the luxury of ever being a kid. At school, I noticed right away that I don't seem to fit in. I don't spend much time thinking about the things they think about. Yesterday at the Cubs game, the most fun I had was wondering what Sandberg and Cey were laughing about, and thinking what Eckersley would be like if he weren't a baseball pitcher. Most kids would have been thinking about a bunch of other stuff."

"Not all people think alike, Kenny. There's nothing wrong with how your mind works. Most children would love to process information the way you can."

"Most children are different, and I don't want to be so different anymore. I want to feel comfortable around kids my age, and to be able to fit in."

"You can still retain your differences and fit in, Kenny. I like to think I'm different from most people, but I still fit in, as you term it."

"Yes, you do. That's another thing I was thinking, Uncle Bunny, about how you seem to get along with just about everyone. How do you do it?"

"Well, I'm part chameleon, Kenny. Whenever I'm around people, I take on some of their coloration. I've always done that. I listen to how they speak, and learn their beliefs, and then I change myself slightly, to make myself more compatible to them. My sense of self is probably a little weak, and this allows me to change my shape, depending on who I'm with."

"You act differently around me than you do around Elizabeth?"

"Yes, no question that I do. I act differently in the presence of all ladies, Kenny. I think it would be easier if you watched me tonight, and listened to how I was acting at dinner. At first, I'll be quiet, to allow myself to get a feel for the people we're with. I already know how to act around you, Bertie and Tommy, of course. It won't be anything too readily apparent, but, if you pay attention, you should be able to discern subtle differences in the way I present myself to each of them."



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Chapter 23B

That night at dinner, all I paid attention to was Uncle Bunny. A few times, people said something to me, but I was too busy trying to see what Uncle Bunny had meant, to be able to respond well to their questions. I was afraid they'd think I was retarded or something. We were all together from seven o'clock until almost ten thirty. Mama let Dad present the full terms of their offer to David and Craig. Uncle Bunny was to be the liaison man with them, and the one who handled the funding for the new machinery and the raw materials they'd be ordering. Mama was the social one at the table, telling both wives how much she was looking forward to seeing their families grow and prosper under the new company that they were forming. Both of the women were very happy and excited, especially when Mama told them the company would be paying payroll three months in advance for David and Craig. She said she didn't want them being distracted by any worries they might have at home, because any start up business required full concentration.

Not once did Uncle Bunny volunteer anything that whole evening. He smiled and nodded, laughed when it was appropriate, and answered any questions sent his way. Other than that, nothing. I was surprised when, as we were all saying our goodbyes, everyone made such a fuss about him. He passed out his business cards and told David and Craig to call him if they needed him for anything. Nell kissed him on the cheek when she said goodbye. I got a handshake, and so did Dad. Mama was the belle of the evening though, having completely won over both of the wives with her optimistic predictions for their future.

Later, up in our suite, I accused Uncle Bunny of having mislead me. "You didn't do anything Uncle Bunny. You sat there until someone asked you a direct question. You didn't participate in any of the regular table conversation at all." Uncle Bunny just smiled at me. I kept talking, letting him know how closely I'd been paying attention. I wanted him to understand that I hadn't been missing anything he was supposed to be doing. He just hadn't been doing anything. Finally, I ran out of things to say to him.

"It isn't important so much what you say or do, Kenny. The important thing is for people to know that you are there for them, and that you're interested in their problems, and in their points of view. I tried to make everyone feel that way tonight. At the same time, I was trying to show you that it wasn't anything that was very hard to accomplish. I hope I succeeded?"

I just looked at him. I wanted to say something to him, to refute what he'd just told me. The trouble was, I believed he was probably right. He had done almost nothing, and yet those people all seemed to really like and respect him, and his opinions. Opinions that he had never given voice to. Could it really be so simple?

"Kenny, it isn't that simple. Tonight was an exaggerated situation. It works much better when you make active contributions. I was simply making my point with you. Did you notice that everyone at the table tonight was working their own agenda?"

"I didn't have an agenda."

"You certainly did. You were trying to discover what it was I did that made it possible for me to be well thought of by a number of people. Bertie was trying to enlist support for her efforts from the wives. Tommy was being the benevolent ruler. David and Craig were trying not to seem too overwhelmed by the decision they were jointly making. The wives were there to make sure their husbands didn't waffle or backslide."

"What was your agenda, Uncle Bunny?"

"To make each of them like and accept me, and to show you that social acceptance is very easy to achieve. The question you should ask though, is whether social acceptance is worth the price you have to pay? I've lately come to believe that it might not be."

I was a little bit taken aback by Uncle Bunny's admission. He seemed like a happy person. I wondered what was wrong. I would have asked him about it, but I was afraid that would seem impertinent of me. I went off to my own bedroom and went to sleep. Uncle Bunny was also right about us going to the Museum of Science and Industry. I thought almost all the exhibits were interesting. I didn't think that Mama or Uncle Bunny were that interested, but Dad and I hurried around, trying to take in as much as we could before they closed. Mama had insisted on a nice, leisurely brunch at the hotel before we left. We didn't get to the museum until after two, and they closed at five, I think. We didn't see even half the things that were there to be seen. Dad was telling me about the Smithsonian Institute in Washington D. C., and promised to take me there someday.

We all had lobster Sunday night. It was very good, but it was also very expensive. These were Maine lobsters that were flown in live. They were kept in a big tank up in front of the restaurant and you could pick out the one you wanted. Dad and I picked the two biggest ones. Mama and Uncle Bunny told us the smaller ones tasted better. My lobster was over four and a half pounds. Dad's was a little bit bigger. I let Uncle Bunny have a taste of mine and he let me have a bite of his. They both tasted the same to me. Uncle Bunny looked right at me after eating the piece I'd cut off for him. He smiled and said something about living and learning. Dad and I both ate all of our lobster. Mama and Uncle Bunny had a drink while they waited for us to finish. I liked dipping the lobster in drawn butter, but it was messy and the butter got dripped over everything. Neither of us had put on the bibs they'd brought for us.

Monday morning at a little after six, we took off from Chicago. Dad stayed in Bolling, but Mama wanted to play some golf, so Dad told me to go home and play some golf too. When we got home, while Mama was changing, I called Shirley, but she wasn't at home.

As soon as Mama drove into the parking lot at the club, I saw Shirley hitting balls with an older, very tall man. He was really tall, so I just assumed it had to be her father. I told Mama that was my friend Shirley, so she came over with me to meet her, and to say hello.

"Hello Shirley, this is my mother, Roberta Parsons. Mama, this is my friend, Shirley Jones." I could tell that Shirley was glad to see me. Her shirt was tighter today, and it was a lot easier to see that she had breasts. They weren't as big as I'd earlier thought. They were a lot more than nothing though. "Are you playing today?"

"This is my father, Ronald Jones, Sr., Daddy this is Kenny Parsons and his mother, Roberta Parsons." The introductions having been made, she could answer my question about them playing. "No, we just came out to hit a few balls. Are you playing?"

"Yes. We just got back from Chicago, and Mama wants to clean her lungs out from the airplane. She thinks the air out here is good for your lungs."

"I not only think it, I know it. Airplane air can't be very healthy. Smell how nice this air here is. You don't have to be a genius to know which air is healthier for you. Mr. Jones, if you have the time, Kenny and I would love to have you join us for a quick eighteen. Have you played here before?"

"Once before with my boss. Too much talk about business, and too little time to enjoy the course. Thank you for the invitation, Roberta, but we'll have to take a rain check. I have a meeting scheduled for one o'clock. An unavoidable meeting with that same boss."

"Well, that's too bad. We should get together for some golf, since our children are friends. I understand you've just moved to Ridgeline?"

"Yes, and it's starting to look like a big mistake, I'm sorry to say. I can't perform miracles, and Gordon seems to have expected one from me."

"Gordon is your boss?"

"Gordon Malcolmb, perhaps you know of him?"

"An insufferable ass. I used to attend school with him. You work for Chandler Carpet Mill then?"

"For one month now. I doubt I'll make it for another month. Gordon made it clear this morning that he was very unhappy with my first month here. He told me to take the day off, and to meet him here at one."

"Ellen Chandler Malcolmb is a very sweet woman. Her father founded the mill that Gordon married into. Ellen married poorly in my opinion. I don't envy you having to work with that man. Would you mind if Shirley joined us? I know that Kenny is dying to see her golf swing close up. We can run her back home when we're done."

Mr. Jones reached for his wallet, but Mama told him we had a special membership that allowed for free guests. I carried Shirley's bag down to the carts, while Mama went in and saw to our tee time.

When Mama came out of the pro shop and saw that I'd tied Shirley's bag alongside mine, she just smiled at us. I saw that Shirley had been waiting to see Mama's reaction. We decided to all play from the ladies tees. Mama was as impressed with Shirley's swing as I had been. I heard her telling Shirley that she needed to follow through with her shots more. For the front nine, my tee shots were usually the shortest of the three of us. I was trying too hard and gripping the club too tightly, anxious to really give the ball a ride. Fortunately, my approach shots were more accurate than normal, and I managed to sink three longish putts. I shot a thirty eight on the front. Mama led all of us with a thirty four. Shirley sunk a nice putt on the ninth, for a thirty eight, the same as me. On the back nine, I spent too much time behind Shirley, watching her wiggling her butt, while she tried to get a comfortable stance for each shot. I blew up to a forty five, while Shirley carded a thirty nine, to beat me by six strokes. Mama fired another thirty four on the back, for a sixty eight. Having seen Shirley shoot a seventy seven, I realized I'd need to really work on my game if I hoped to ever beat her again.

On the drive back home, Mama had Shirley sit up front, in the middle, between both of us. We dropped her off in front of a nice house over on Cornett Avenue. She thanked both of us for asking her to play, and I told her that I'd call her later.

I waited until after five thirty to call Shirley. When I got through, she was very upset. Her father had been fired from his job, and they were going to move back to Salt Lake City. I felt really bad for her, and for myself as well. The only good news was that they weren't moving back until after the boys left to go back to college, in another three weeks.

At dinner, Mama asked me what was wrong. When I told her about Shirley's dad being fired, she told me not to worry. When Dad started asking questions, Mama mentioned Gordon Malcolmb's, name and Dad made a sour face.

"What did he do for the mill, Kenny?"

"He was the sales manager for the whole company. He's only been there for a month, and they moved here all the way from Salt Lake City."

"Is he a Mormon?"

"I asked Shirley that too. She says they aren't. I think she said they were Methodists or something."

"We can hire him, Thomas. We can always use a good salesman or whatever Kenny said he was. Shirley's a nice girl, and she's Kenny's friend. She has a beautiful, flowing, golf swing too."

I laughed. "You think it looks good because it looks like your golf swing." Mama smiled and nodded that I was right.

"We don't know anything about him. Maybe Malcolmb had good reason to fire him."

"After one month? How many sales managers have you terminated, one month after hiring them?"

"Maybe I'm just a lot more thorough in my selection process."

"Maybe Gordon Malcolmb has run that company so far into the ground no one could have come in and saved it. Didn't you tell me that the bank told you that he was overextended? I never knew what Ellen saw in that twerp anyway. He was always so creepy in school."

"They didn't say he was overextended, they said he lost a big contract. That's two entirely different things."

"Kenny, call up Shirley after dinner and invite her and her parents over for drinks and some of Gerta's wonderful desserts. Gerta, do you have anything sweet on hand for three guests? Something that might go well as a dessert with brandy?" Gerta was just coming in to gather up the dinner dishes. She smiled, and said she had a German chocolate cake that she had just gotten that morning. I was sure it came from the Kleinsmith deli. I stood up and went up to my room. I hadn't seen either Jane or Grace, and I wondered where they were.

"Hi, Shirley, it's Kenny. My mother and father wanted to invite your parents over for some drinks and dessert tonight. You're welcome too. I'll show you my room. I have my own balcony. I bet you could see your house from it."

"I don't think so Kenny. Both my parents are pretty upset. Maybe another time would be better."

"I think my dad wants to meet your dad, to see if he'd be right for a job he has with his company."

"Really? What kind of company does your dad have?"

"It's a baking and distributing company. We also make cereals and we do some vending. I'm not sure what my Dad has in mind, but I hope your parents will come over. Both of them know your dad's old boss, and neither of them like him. I'm going to call my Uncle Bunny too, because he knows everybody. If he comes over, I'm sure they'll offer your dad something."

Instead of her asking her parents herself, she gave me their phone number and asked me to call them myself. I thought that was strange, but I took down the number and called them. Mr. Jones answered the phone. He had a very deep voice, and I recognized it right away.

"Mr. Jones, this is Kenny Parsons, Shirley's friend. We met today at the country club?"

Hi, Kenny. Yes, I remember. Here, let me give you the number to Shirley's private line."

"No sir, I have her number. My parents asked me to call you and Mrs. Jones, to invite you over for drinks and dessert."

"Thank you, Kenny, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline this invitation too. My wife and I have some planning to do."

"I'm sorry Mr. Jones, but that's one of the reasons my parents wanted to invite you over tonight, before you did too much planning. They heard about Mr. Malcolmb, and they wanted to talk to you about the possibilities that are around here right now."

"Are your parents in the employment agency business?"

"No, they own a rather large baking and distribution company. They have more than two thousand employees. They know you were a sales manager for Mr. Malcolmb, and my Dad wanted to meet you."

"I was the national sales manager for Chandler Carpet, Kenny, and for Zion Carpet Mills before that. Does your father know that?"

"No sir, but I'm sure he'd be happy to learn about it. We're expanding our business right now, and one of the things he always says is that a company needs a strong sales force to compete. I think you might like my dad, Mr. Jones. He can't stand Gordon Malcolmb. He has some good brandy too. I heard him and my Uncle Bunny discussing that."

"It's already after eight Kenny. How far away do you live from us." I gave him directions to our house, telling him it was only a five minute drive. I asked him to bring Shirley too, telling him that Gerta had the best German chocolate cake for dessert. He left the line for a minute to check with his wife before returning to tell me that they'd be happy to come by in about fifteen minutes. I ran downstairs as soon as I got off the phone. My parents were in the library, and I told them that Shirley's parents would be here in fifteen minutes. Mama was amused by my excitement. I went into the living room and called Uncle Bunny. I told him about Mr. Jones, and about what Mr. Malcolmb had done to him, and then I asked him to come over to meet them too. Uncle Bunny said he would, after I told him about Gerta's German chocolate cake.

I stood by the front door waiting until I heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. I waited a minute to open the door, because I didn't want to startle them before they had a chance to get out of their car. Mrs. Jones was really tall too, just like Shirley had said. Unlike Shirley, she had rather impressive sized breasts, although she was on the slim side too. I tried not to stare at them, when I invited them all into the library to meet my parents. I had just finished making the introductions when Uncle Bunny came hurrying in. He really liked German chocolate cake. Everyone had a snifter of brandy except for Shirley and me. We went into the kitchen to get large glasses of milk to go with our cake. We ate our cake, and drank our milk, back in the library, before I excused us from the adults talking together, telling everyone that I was going to give Shirley the cook's tour of the house.

Shirley really liked my room, especially the balcony. She said she was pretty sure that she had identified her house, and pointed it out to me. I pretended not to be able to tell where she was pointing, until I got behind her and looked directly at where she was pointing. I got very close, so that I could see where she was pointing. Both of us stayed like that for more than a minute. I was pressing myself up against her butt. She was trapped between me and the guard rail. She didn't tell me to move away from her, but when I did, I heard her letting her breath out with a long, audible, sigh. I moved away because I was starting to get a boner. I didn't want her getting the wrong idea about me, or the right one either. I was a little confused at the way I was starting to react around her.

We got back to the library, and I saw Dad and Mr. Jones over in a corner of the room, near the television. Dad was drawing something on a yellow note pad, and Mr. Jones was nodding that he understood. Mama and Mrs. Jones were sitting out in the living room, talking together quietly. We found Uncle Bunny in the kitchen, trying to talk Gerta out of another slice of that cake. I introduced Gerta to Shirley, calling her my Aunt Gerta. For a long time, I'd felt very close to Hans and Gerta. Not having any family for so long, I was anxious to gather as much of it around me as I could. Gerta seemed happy that I thought of her and Hans that way. Whatever made her happy was a good thing as far as I was concerned.

I took Shirley out the back way from the kitchen, trying to show her the back yard and the garage. I remembered another time, when I met Brenda out in the garage. That was the first time I'd gotten to lick her kitty. I don't know why I thought of that right then. Shirley and I weren't anywhere near that stage in our friendship. I knew that, but my dick apparently didn't. When I showed her the garage though, I did kiss her. Our first kiss, at the club had been hurried and uncertain. This time, I'm pretty sure we were both expecting it. When I stood in front of her and kissed her, she came closer to me, and put her arms around my head. When she bumped against my hard on, she moved back quickly, but when I put my tongue in her mouth, she let me, and relaxed herself back against me. It wasn't a long kiss, and I didn't try for anything more. I didn't want to scare her away, but I did want her to know that I was willing to take our friendship to a different level than it had been before this. I felt her nipples pop out from her chest. When we moved away after, I looked at her nipples jutting proudly out against her blouse. I saw her face was flushed, and when she saw where my eyes had fixed, she put both hands up and covered up her charms.

"Don't look at me that way, Kenny. It makes me all shivery inside when you do. I should get back inside before my parents start to wonder where I am."

"You have very prominent nipples, Shirley. Are they sensitive?"

"Kenny, you can't ask me something like that."

"I can ask, but you don't have to answer. I was just curious. They look very pretty when they stick out like that." She looked at my face and then slowly lowered her hands, allowing me to look at her nipples some more.

"This makes me feel very vulnerable, Kenny. Don't say anything mean, okay?"

"I think they're very exciting, Shirley. I'm dying to touch them to see if they feel as nice as they look. Don't worry though, I'm not going to reach out and grab them."

"That's good that you aren't, Kenny. If you did, I'd probably pass out from the excitement. That was my first French kiss. This is the first time I've ever let someone see me like this. This might not be too much from your experiences."

"No, that's not true, Shirley. This is very exciting to me. I'm almost afraid I'm going to have an accident, and make a mess in my underpants."

"Me too, Kenny. This is so different from what I imagined. It isn't like my mom's romance novels either."

"Do you want to have one more kiss and then go inside, or do you want to just leave here now, and go back inside?"

"I don't know. What do you think we should do?"

"I think one more kiss."

"Okay." I leaned in again and started kissing her. She put her arms around my neck again and leaned in closer too. She pulled in until her hips were pressed hard against mine. When I broke the kiss, I started putting gentle little kisses all over her neck. She didn't resist or pull away from me. Instead, she started moving from side to side, and making little noises. I kept on nibbling at her neck and her movements became more pronounced. When I released her, we had been doing that same thing for at least fifteen minutes. I couldn't continue any longer. My balls were already starting to hurt from the pressure being built up. We walked outside in the back yard, trying to walk off our excitement. I didn't know if I smelled as excited as she did, but if I did, we didn't dare go back inside yet. We walked around for ten more minutes, until whatever smell there was that was coming from her had started to fade.

We went back in through the kitchen, and Gerta gave us each another glass of milk and some cookies she had baked earlier. These were raisin and oatmeal cookies, and we both ate them hungrily. We walked back out to the library, but Dad and Shirley's father were still having a discussion over that yellow note pad. Now though, Mr. Jones held it, and it was him that was drawing something on it, and my Dad was nodding that he understood.

We found Uncle Bunny, Mama and Mrs. Jones in the dining room, sitting at the table, discussing the golf learning center together. It was mostly Mama talking and Mrs. Jones and Uncle Bunny sitting there nodding and listening to her. Mama was really excited about how well things were coming together at the learning center. Two different magazines had interviewed Mama about the golf learning center. One of them, an in flight magazine, had written a glowing report about her idea and predicted that it was an idea that was bound to be successful. Mama was so pleased with this free publicity. Already, just from this one magazine article, she had gotten a handful of inquiries, and it had only been out for a week and a half.

The main thing though, was that no one had missed us, or even noticed that we were gone. We stood around, listening to Mama talk for awhile, before heading off once again. This time we walked out front, over to the fountain in the circular driveway. We sat down on the fountain's edge, away from the house doors. We were out of sight of anyone coming out from the front. This time, we contented ourselves with just talking. It wasn't comfortable for me, because Shirley was asking me all kinds of questions about Brenda, and the things we liked to do together.

"Shirley, I don't really feel that comfortable talking about the things I've done with Brenda. Maybe you could make your questions more general, not about any one specific person?"

But, you said you loved Brenda. I wanted to know what you did with someone you loved. It isn't the same if it was with someone you didn't care that much about."

"Would you want me telling people what you and I are doing?"

"No, but this isn't the same as that. I'm just curious, because I don't know anything about this. It's all new to me."

"I know, but maybe I'm not a good person to ask those kinds of questions from. The way I look at it, that's all private information between Brenda and me. I'd hate it if I found out she was telling people stuff about me, and the things she and I did together."

"You still love her then." I didn't answer her unspoken question. If she wanted to state it as she had, I felt free to not comment on it. "Well, do you love her or not?"

"Not. I already explained things to you, Shirley. Brenda and I are finished. We don't even talk to each other anymore. I told her to leave me alone, and to stop trying to get me back again. She's left me alone ever since I told her that."

"I'm just curious about her. Denise said Brenda's really pretty, that she had her pick of any boys, but she chose you."

"Brenda is fascinated by money. She thought I had more of it than anyone else."

"Everyone says you're rich, not just Denise and Brenda."

"That's more true now than it was while Brenda and I were getting to know each other. My parents and my Uncle Bunny gave me some money."

"Are you a millionaire?"

"I have a trust fund. I guess there's a lot of money in it now, more than a million, but I'm not planning on keeping all of it for myself. If I did have a lot of money, I'd probably give most of it away. I plan on making money of my own too, someday. When I do, I'll probably use it to help people that need help. People who come from the same situation I came from. I don't need as much money as Mama or Uncle Bunny have. Money isn't what makes me happy."

"What does?"

"Kissing you, and making your nipples stick straight out of your chest. Eating Gerta's German chocolate cake. Seeing my mom and my friend hit their tee shots really well. Standing behind you and watching you swing your driver. Looking at Hans walking without any pain again. It isn't hard to make me happy."

I watched her nipples pop out again as I spoke to her. It was hard to resist my urge to touch them, to rub the open palm of my hand against them and feel their soft resistance to my hand's pressure against them.

"You're making me ache for you to touch them. How do you do that? I've never really wanted to let a boy touch them before. I've had day dreams when I was reading one of my mom's books or something, but I've never wanted a real person to touch me like that."

"You aren't aching for me to touch them as much as I'm aching to do it. In a way, it's kind of neat having something like that to look forward to. It has always come too easy or too quick for me before. I want to be ready, fully prepared, when it happens for me again."

Shirley stood up then and grabbed my right hand. She opened my fingers with her own, and then pressed my palm against her chest. I hadn't been expecting it, but I recovered quickly from my surprise. I stood up and kissed her, careful to keep steady contact and pressure with her breast. Her breasts weren't large, but they were pronounced, and they were very sensitive. The kiss we shared was more passionate than any of the others. Her breath was warm in my mouth, and her tongue darted around, first in my mouth, then back to hers. We were lost in that kiss until I felt her fingers dancing softly across my distended dick. I almost exploded, but I pulled away from her instead.

"Careful, you're going to make me have an accident."

"I can't believe the way you're making me act, Kenny. Is it always this easy for you?"

"This isn't easy, Shirley, this is hard. Easy would be to avoid this kind of temptation. How do you suppose I'm going to get to sleep tonight? We better quit before we both do something we'll regret."

"Are you regretting what we've done? I'm not."

"No, not at all. I just don't want us both to get too carried away. You're a good girl, and I don't want to take advantage of what might just be a moment's weakness."

"That would have to be an awful long moment, but you're right about the weakness. This is all new to me. I've never felt like this before. Maybe we should go back inside."

This time when we went back all five of them were sitting in the dining room, laughing and talking together excitedly. Mr. Jones had a new job, hiring and training people to help open new locations for the vending machines. Some of his ideas had been brand new to Dad, and they made a lot of sense to him as far as costs went. It turned out that Mr. Malcolmb gave away big titles in place of big salaries. Dad was able to hire him for less than forty thousand a year. There were perks, but no more than any other upper level manager could receive. One of these perks was membership at the country club. When Mrs. Jones found out the work week began on Monday, and ended on Friday, she was sold on her husband taking the new job.

After they had gone home. Mama told me that Dad would have probably hired him anyway, but it made it an easy decision when Dad found out that Mr. Jones and he agreed about a lot of things. I felt good about what she had said to me. I felt like I was really important to both of them. It was a new feeling, but one I'd already started enjoying a lot.



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Chapter 24

As I had expected, I had difficulty going to sleep Monday night. At one in the morning, I heard Grace and Jane coming up the stairs. They certainly weren't taking any pains to be quiet. The two of them came right into my room, without even knocking. I closed my eyes and pretended to be sleeping.

"Kenny! Wake up!" This was Grace screaming out her drunken whisper.

"I already am awake. Why are you two coming into my room like this?"

"We needed to ask you something." This was from Jane. Both of them broke out into a giggling fit then. I felt movement at the foot of my bed, and when I looked up from my covers, they were both crawling towards me. Jane was on the inside, while Grace was outside. Jane brought her face up, close to my ear. "Grace and I, we both want you to do it to me." Again they were laughing and giggling after Jane spoke.

"Go to your room, both of you. It's after one, and you've been drinking."

"You think we didn't know we've been drinking? We're not that drunk. We know what we're doing. You have to help us, we both agreed that you were the right one."

"Jane, I don't want to do it with you, and I'm reasonably sure this wasn't your idea either." Jane started climbing on me then, not stopping until she was straddling me. I was a lot bigger than she was, but she was very athletic, and strong too. I wasn't resisting her, but I had been surprised when she did that.

"Listen. Remember the big fight Grace and I had? It was about my brother, Jimmy. Grace screwed him a lot more than she needed to, or was supposed to. She cheated on me, with my own brother."

"You knew I was going to, Jane. We even talked about it."

"I knew you'd do it once or twice, Grace, not two or three times a day, everyday, for a month."

"Jane, what does that have to do with me? I thought you two had worked it out anyway?"

"She won't let it go, Kenny. She keeps thinking I did it because I liked him or something. I just like sex, not Jimmy. I love you, Jane. Sex is sex, but love is different."

"I'm not changing my mind, Grace, we agreed. I'm going to do it with Kenny, and you have to watch him doing it to me."

"Get out of my room, both of you! I really hate it when you treat me like this. I don't like it when you're kidding, but when you're serious, it's even more insulting. I treat you both like friends, but you treat me like I'm a convenience for you, like toilet paper. This is making me very mad."

"Why should you be mad? How many times have we caught you looking at my tits, Kenny? A hundred times? Two hundred? All we're asking is one little favor. Grace needs to learn how it feels knowing someone you love is having sex with someone else."

"I already know that, Jane. You need to find out that if you love someone, unimportant shit like that doesn't matter. You're jealous of your own brother, the one you handed me to on a silver platter, so that we could stay together when you moved."

"Good. If it doesn't matter, me fucking Kenny shouldn't bother you. When I suck his cock, you won't be worried that I might like it more than I like going down on you."

I got up out of bed and went over to my door, and turned on my lights. I opened up my bedroom door. "If you two aren't out of my room in thirty seconds, I'm waking up Mama, and getting both of you thrown out of here permanently. If you ever try something like this again, you can kiss those camp counseling jobs goodbye." When I spoke about their golf counseling jobs, I think it finally got through to them. It was funny that they hadn't thought about the fact that I might not want to cooperate with them. They both scrambled up from my bed and started to leave the room. Jane hung back until Grace left the room, then she apologized to me. She was embarrassed and crying. I had gotten to know both of them pretty well, and I was certain that Jane only liked girls for sex. Grace was different, and she was open to more variety than Jane was. There had been times when I felt like Grace would have been willing to be unfaithful to Jane with both sexes. Jane's only lapse had been the day she first met Brenda. I started wondering whether Grace would be so unconcerned if Jane were to spend the night with Brenda instead of me. I shut and bolted the door behind them.

Somehow, I managed to get to sleep. I woke up at six ten in the morning, feeling tired and cranky. I barely had enough time to get a quick shower, get dressed, and run into the kitchen for a big glass of milk and two dough nuts, before Dad came in and asked if I was ready. We got in his car and headed out by six forty five.

"I'm glad you introduced me to Ron, Kenny, I think he's going to be a real asset for our expansion plans. I didn't tell your mother this, but I was looking for someone as a back up in case Rob Lucas gets upset if I decide not to retain Virginia. This problem between Jim Tanner and us isn't going to sit well with him either."

"Uncle Bunny said you planned it this way from the start." Dad looked over at me when I said that.

"I wouldn't exactly say I planned it that way. I knew it might come to that, but I went there hoping we could all sit down and work something out. I had no idea about Craig, and I underestimated how prepared David was to strike out on his own. Sometimes, Bunny sees sinister intent where none was present. Bunny is sharp though, and you'd be well advised to learn things from him. We've been friends for thirty years now, and I'm still learning from him."

"What's it mean when someone says 'bump and tickle'?"

"It means you've been conversing with Bunny. The correct phrase is 'slap and tickle'. This is British slang for having sex. Bunny always gets it wrong. He confuses it with 'bumping bellies' which is another slang term for having sex."

"So, if Uncle Bunny said it, he meant having sex? He was telling me yesterday, when I was worried that you and Mama were fighting over David and Craig having a company, that you were going to give in to Mama, and that you'd play bump and tickle to seal the deal. He knew you'd let Mama have her way, he said you'd probably planned it that way."

"Bunny is a corrupting influence on you, Kenny. That doesn't mean he doesn't know whereof he speaks though. He was correct for much of that. I would change him saying I planned it though, to something like, I was allowing for the possibility. Bertie, Bunny, and I, we all spend a lot of our time and energy, trying to anticipate what the others are planning or doing. Knowing each other's tendencies as well as we do, we are seldom taken completely by surprise. Take you, as an example of this, Kenny. Bunny picked you, not just because he knew Bertie wanted and needed a child. He picked you because he thought I might grow fond of you as well. He knew my weakness for intelligence, and for creative problem solving abilities. He picked you specifically, because he knew you possessed both, in extraordinary measure. He hoped it would result in the two of us creating a connection with each other."

"Uncle Bunny is pretty shrewd. He likes me a lot too though, do you think he also planned on that?"

"Not in the beginning, but Bunny has always been a softy. Of the three of us, Bunny is the most susceptible to his feelings. We've been exploiting this for years, your mother and I."

"What are you planning for today at work?"

"I need to call up Rob Lucas and let him know what transpired in Chicago with the Tanners. I need to make sure our plans are on track for the new scheduling for the route drivers. I have to think about how I want to position the new vending machine company. I'm having an hour long meeting with the department managers today, and each one is supposed to have handed out copies of their presentation to all the other attendees by yesterday. We'll be able to see if this idea of yours helps any. I got copies of all of the presentations on my desk before three P.M, which was the deadline I set. Any other advice for me?"

"Set an alarm when the meeting begins. Have it ring as soon as the hour is up. Put the clock right in front of you so all of them can see the time left. When the alarm sounds, get up and leave the room. They need to learn that they only have a limited time to present their ideas and get input at the meeting. If someone runs over his allotted time, stop him, don't let him finish on someone else's time."

"You must have a lot of German blood, Kenny. You have an efficiency fetish."

"You asked me. Part of what you were complaining about was that these overruns at the meetings were keeping you from doing all the things you needed to get done. It also was wasting the time of the people who were sitting around, waiting for you to get done with your last meeting, so that you could meet with them like you had scheduled. By allowing people to make you late, you're rewarding the abusers, and penalizing the victims of that abuse, including yourself in the list of victims. That isn't good management style."

"You don't discuss these things with your mother or Bunny, do you?" Dad looked worried. I remembered what Uncle Bunny told me about Dad being more concerned with his image than most other people.

"No, I only talk about this with you. Was I supposed to tell them these things?"

"Oh, no, this way is much better. By the way, your mother has a very keen sense of smell. It might not be a good idea to parade girls by her, after the two of you have been intimate."

"Do you mean Shirley? She and I didn't do anything more than kiss, and a little bit of touching above the waist."

"Really? Your mother was certain she smelled a lot more than simple touching on the two of you."

"I smelled it too, but that's all it was. Shirley hasn't ever done anything before. Last night was her first French kiss."

"I'll let your mother know that. She'll be so relieved to hear it."

"I don't think so. I get the feeling that Mama wants me to be more like Uncle Bunny was when he was young. She kind of encourages me that way."

"If that's true, you're very lucky. If I'd had your advantages while growing up, I'd have really exploited them."

"I can call Mother Superior, to find out if they have an opening for you." Dad laughed, he thought that was a good one. We both knew what advantages he'd been referring to.

When we got to work, I went off on my own. I was looking for some of the people who answered the phone, and took new orders from our customers. Instead of finding a big group of people, I found Edith and her daughter, Ellen. They answered the company phones and took all of the incoming orders. Edith was divorced, about forty years old, with dyed hair that was supposed to look red, but had turned out kind of pink. Ellen was sixteen, but she looked about twelve. She had dropped out of school in the tenth grade, but she was so smart, it intimidated me. Her verbal skills were simply off the charts. I listened to her talking to people for less than fifteen minutes, before I knew she was going to be the brains behind our new ordering system. I was talking to Edith, when I found out that Ellen wasn't even an employee of ours. Edith brought Ellen to work because she no longer had a driver's license herself. Edith liked to drink and drive, and the State of Kansas took a real dim view of that, at least they did, after the fourth or fifth time you were caught, and convicted of doing it. Our company benefited greatly from Edith's tendency to overindulge.

To relieve her boredom, Ellen started fielding the incoming order calls, and writing them up for her mother. This was during a period of time when there were supposed to be three people there answering phone calls. Two of them had quit, but no one thought to replace them, because all the customer orders were being turned in on time each day. Not only was there no defined order system in place, there weren't even order pads for Ellen, or anyone else to use. She would write down the customer address info, and then using her own style of shorthand, write down their order. Later, when it had slowed down, she'd write it up in plain English for the order pullers. Cut off time for next day deliveries was one thirty in the afternoon. One thing Ellen did have was a list of all of the products we had for sale, and their current prices. She had to go over to a different part of the building to pick this up every morning, when she and her mother first came to work. I knew, as I started finding these things out, that my Dad was going to be furious when he found out how slipshod this ordering system was. I left at nine thirty, with Ellen and Edith both busy writing up orders. I found the girl that Ellen told me was the one who gave her the product and price information every morning, and she and I worked out an order form system. Including different sizes, we had ninety four different product codes that we currently were producing and selling. This didn't count all the products from the other companies that weren't yet integrated into our distribution line.

By three o'clock, I had a master copy of an order list ready to go out to our printers. I started off with a run of fifty pads of fifty order sheets to a pad, including an original and a duplicate. I went to Dad's secretary to get some money from petty cash for printing costs. I'd called a printer close by, and he quoted me sixty eight dollars for a run of this size. I thought it sounded pretty reasonable. I went and got Ellen, and had her drive us over to the printer. When she saw the master order form, she was thrilled. When I told her that we were going to put her on the payroll, she was even more thrilled. The only part she objected to was when I told her that she would be in a different room than she had now, and that she wouldn't be with her mother.

"That won't work then. I need to be with Mom. She gets nervous if I'm not right there where she can see me. My sister, Bernice, she killed herself two years ago. Mom hasn't stopped worrying about me since then. I can leave her for an hour, maybe two, but after that, unless she's juiced, she gets frantic."

"We'll put the two of you in adjoining rooms, and put in a window so she can see you. We're going to be growing Ellen. How much more can we grow before you need some help?"

"Mom helps me now when it gets too busy. People don't like to be kept on hold. They're busy too. When I get these new order forms, it might be a lot faster, but sometimes, five or six people call in their orders at the same time. Usually about five minutes before the cut off."

"We're going to change the cut off to whenever you leave for the day."

"Tell me again who you are?"

"I'm Kenny Parsons. My Dad is the owner of the company?"

"So all these things you've been telling me, they're true?"

"Yes. What did you think?"

"I thought you were pretending to be important, so that I'd be receptive later, when you asked me out or something."

"You thought I was going to all this trouble for a date?"

"We don't get a lot of visitors in the phone room, Kenny. Sometimes, one of the salesmen will come in and bullshit with us. Some of them have been known to come on to us. It isn't impossible that this was what you were doing."

"If you thought that, how come you were willing to drive with me over to the printers?"

"Why not? It gets me out of that little room, and I was going to tell you yes if you did ask me out. Do you already have a girlfriend?"

"I'm not sure if I do or not. I live thirty miles from here, in Ridgeline."

"We live over by Holton, it's about twenty miles from here."

"I know. I go to Clement Academy."

"Did you escape?"

"No, I'm not from 'Search Hall', I'm from 'Joke Hall'. There's three kinds of students there. I'm one of the academic students. 'Search Hall' is where the delinquents are kept."

"What's the third kind of student?"

"Guys that need to learn better English. They live in 'Spicamore Hall'."

"That's terrible." Both of us were laughing. "What did you mean when you said you weren't sure if you had a girlfriend or not?"

"I've been seeing this girl, and I like her, but we haven't really started talking about being boyfriend and girlfriend yet. Right now, she's more of a friend, but we're pretty close to changing that I think."

We got to the address for the printer, and we went in and gave him the master copy, and the money. He gave me a ten percent discount, for prepaying he said, but I thought it was probably a kick back that he gave me, hoping I'd throw more business his way. On the receipt, it said sixty eight dollars. I asked him when we could pick things up, and he promised it would be ready by three o'clock the following day. We went back out to the car. I handed over the six dollars and eighty cents to Ellen, telling her it was for her gas, and for wear and tear on her mom's car.

"Are you going to ask me out, or aren't you?"

"Sure, how about lunch tomorrow? Anywhere we can get to and get back to work in an hour. I'll let you pick the place. What do you like to eat?"

"I meant a real date. I can drop my mom off at her favorite bar at seven, and come pick her up again when we're done. She doesn't worry much when she's having a few."

"Are you going to drive over to Ridgeline to pick me up? I don't drive. I'm not old enough yet."

"How old are you? I thought you were like eighteen or nineteen."

"I'm almost sixteen. A few more days and I'll be sixteen."

"You're big for your age. What are you, like six one or two?"

"I was six feet even at the start of Summer, but maybe I've grown some more."

"What could we do in Ridgeline? You aren't a farmer are you?"

"There isn't much, but no, I'm not a farmer. We could go to the dance at the country club if you want, that's on Saturday nights. I could take you to the movies, we have a theater in Ridgeline."

"I'm not much interested in dancing, and I can go to the movies whenever I want to with my mom. Can't you think of anything else we could do?" She reached over, putting her hand on top of my lap. With the pants I was wearing, it didn't take her long to find what she was searching for. She began squeezing and fondling my dick. Her confidence and attitude to be doing something like this reminded me of Bea. I don't know why, but her actions caught me completely off guard. Had it been Bea, Brenda, or even Emily, I wouldn't have been surprised. I sat there, looking down at her hand, as she played with my very stiff dick. When she pulled into the employee parking lot, I rallied enough to pull her hand off of my dick, and put it over on her side of the car. She gave me a pouting look when I did that.

"Let me think about it, and I'll talk with you more tomorrow. Are you sure that's what you want to do on our first date?"

"I told you I don't get out much since Bernice slit her wrists in our bathtub. I wouldn't want to waste a night, because I never know when I'll get another chance. If things were more normal, I'd make you wait longer."

"How long, if things were normal?"

"I think you're pretty cute, and your father owns a very big company. I guess I might not have made you wait even if things were normal." She laughed and I laughed too. I'm not sure what she was laughing at, but I was laughing at the lousy timing for this. Why didn't I meet Ellen a week before then? Now I had to think about things. What was I going to say to Shirley? I needed to go see Uncle Bunny. He'd know exactly what to do. We went in together, and I told her I'd come down to see her in the morning. I went upstairs to my Dad's office, and he was already done and smiling at me.

"Let's go, Kenny. I'm finished early for once, and a lot of the reason for that is because of your idea about passing out presentations the day before. It made everyone think more about what they were planning to say. It's one thing to say something on the fly, and off the cuff, but people are more careful when it's right there in black and white for everyone else to see and refer back to. Best organized and most efficient meeting I've ever been in. Where were you all day, and what's this about you raiding our petty cash?" I reached in my pocket and pulled out the receipt for him. He glanced at it and set it in the middle of his secretary's desk and put a paper clip holder over it. His secretary wasn't there. I looked at my watch and it was barely past four thirty. The two of us took the back stairs, over to my Dad's car. I saw Ellen and Edith standing near Edith's car, watching us as my Dad and I got into his car. They were only about eighty feet from us.

"Dad, come meet somebody. It will only take a minute, and she's important to the company." I took him over and introduced Dad to Edith and Ellen. I told Dad about what a good job they both were doing, and let him know there was a screw up five months ago when Ellen first started working, and she hadn't been put on the payroll. Later, in the car, I explained everything I'd learned that day, about the lack of a rational order taking system, and about how Ellen had been doing the work of two people, for five months, just trying to help her mother cope with an impossible workload. I showed him a copy of the master order form I'd given to the printer.

"Kenny, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were changing things around, just so you could rattle me with the slipshod way I've been running things around here. I'm afraid to let you come to work with me anymore, seriously. If you run across one or two more things like this, I might be forced to fire myself, for shame's sake. None of these things should be taking place in a well run company. It's all totally inexcusable."

"I thought you told me these were the kinds of things that routinely occur with companies? Didn't you say that one of the most important tasks for senior managers was to constantly be looking for these little things that lead to drained off profits? This has been going on for five months, but it started when someone failed to inform personnel that two thirds of the phone room had quit. It only kept from being noticed because Ellen did such a fantastic job. If the orders hadn't been getting through, someone would have found out about the problem, and fixed it long before now. The biggest harm was to Ellen, because she did some great work, and she didn't even get paid for it."

"What about not having any system in place for taking orders efficiently? There's no possible excuse for that."

"I bet there used to be a form for that, but someone didn't keep it up, and when they ran out, they made do with the system that's in place right now. Tomorrow afternoon, we'll have new forms to use, and that problem will be solved. Since we're going to be expanding, with the products from the other companies, we'll have to get more help in for Ellen and Edith. I think they should be in two separate rooms, but I have to tell you about what Edith needs." I told him about Bernice, and how Edith panicked if Ellen was out of her sight for too long of a time. By the time we got home, I think Dad had a headache from all the new problems I had brought to him.

I was trying to put off thinking about my own problem with Ellen. I still wanted to speak with Uncle Bunny, but now, I knew I was going to have to tell Shirley about what had happened in Edith's car, on our way back from the printer's office. I got home and called Uncle Bunny at his office, but his receptionist told me he'd left for the day. When I told her it was important that I speak with him, she told me he was at the club practicing golf with Grace and Jane. I ran and got Hans and asked him to give me a ride over to the club.

When I got there, Uncle Bunny and Jane were practicing chip shots from over behind a hedge in front of the putting green. Uncle Bunny's bag of golf clubs was laying right next to the "no chipping" sign. He didn't see me approaching, but Jane did, and she nudged him right before he was about to swing. His ball went into the hedge, and when he turned to ask her why she shook his arm while he was swinging, he saw me too.

"Kenny, you're home early today. Did you come to play or to practice?"

"I came to see you. I called your office, and your receptionist told me where you were, and who you were with. Hi Jane."

"Hello, Kenny. Listen, I'm sorry about last night. Did you tell your mother?"

"Not yet. I wanted to discuss it with my Uncle Bunny first, to find out what he thinks I need to do. Will you excuse us?" I was gratified to see her turn quickly, and leave for the clubhouse. I assumed that Grace was up there in the restaurant, since those two were rarely separated. "Uncle Bunny, I've got a real problem, and I need some advice." I told him about my ride to and from the printers with Ellen, and about what was said and done on the way back.

"What is it you want from me?"

"I want your advice, Uncle Bunny. What do I tell Shirley? What do I do about Ellen?" I had given him a quick update on my relationship with Shirley, holding nothing back. I told him how my feelings for Shirley had been changing, and I admitted that some of this might be because I was getting horny. While I was at it, I started telling him about the early morning appearance by Jane and Grace, but he told me that Jane had already filled him in on what had happened.

"Kenny, I can think of several ways for you to proceed, given your concerns about Shirley's feelings. Are you hoping to somehow juggle the two of them?"

"No. I might have wanted to do that earlier, before Shirley came over to the house last night. Before that, we were just going to try to be friends. I think last night changed that though. I know it changed it for me. This other girl, Ellen, she reminds me of a younger Bea, but she isn't nearly as good looking. Her personality though, just as aggressive as Bea is."

"Kenny, you know you'll have to choose. You should do so before you're too heavily invested, emotionally, with either girl."

"I think Shirley would make the better friend, but I also think I'd like her better as my girlfriend. Ellen would only be like Bea was for me, someone I could have sex with."

"I guess you've made your choice then, and it's Shirley."

"What about what already happened today with Ellen? Should I tell Shirley?"

"Well, I suppose that depends. If something like this happened to Shirley, right now, at this point in your relationship, would you want her to tell you?"

"You're making me do all the work, Uncle Bunny. Do people pay you for talking to them this way?"

"They do. Sometimes they pay me a lot for clarifying their alternatives for them. No one pays me to do their thinking for them. Most people want their problems broken down and organized, so that they can make simpler choices. I can do your thinking for you, but if I make the decision, you have to live with the consequences of it."

"I'm going to discuss it with her tonight. I'll explain first that I really like her now, and that this thing with Ellen has made me think about the possible changes in where she and I were heading."

"Good decision, Kenny. I'm happy that you were able to think it through and come up with what it was you wanted to do. If there's nothing else, I really need to practice chipping and pitching. I think I'm getting a real understanding of what this feel thing is. Dave used to always talk to me about feel."

I left there, dismissed, so that Uncle could practice hitting his ball on the green, over a three foot high hedge. I was sure I could manage that shot ten out of ten times. If Uncle Bunny needed to practice something like that, his game still had a lot of room for improvement. If he was still practicing on the sly, I wasn't going to give him strokes anymore. He could either play me even or stop betting with me. I wasn't going to turn into his patsy. I had a lot better things to do with my money.



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Chapter 25

I was in my room at five thirty, getting myself ready to speak with Shirley. I was mentally rehearsing what I was going to say to her. I was undecided between the direct confession route, or the hypothetical question gambit. Both had merit, but either might accomplish what I most feared. I was afraid that Shirley was going to listen to what happened, then decide that I wasn't someone she wanted to be friends with. Just thinking about that happening had me sick with worry, and too paralyzed with fear, for me to pick up the phone and dial her number.

How had it gotten to this point so quickly? We hadn't yet spent more than five hours in each other's company, and already I was worried about having her decide she didn't want to be around me anymore. I sat on the edge of my bed and stewed about my dilemma. I knew I was making too much of this. This was an area that I had decided to work on, after Brenda. Part of it had to be that I had been closed off emotionally for so long. When I decided to open myself up to feelings, maybe I went too far in that other direction. Perhaps, I needed to find some middle ground, where everything didn't always turn into life and death decisions. I was three days away from turning sixteen, way too young to be thinking about any long term commitments anyway. I liked Shirley, but we were just starting to get to know each other. I was getting all wound up over a situation that shouldn't be that important. It wasn't trivial, but it shouldn't be so critical that it left me too afraid to call my new friend.

At seven, I went downstairs for dinner, not having picked up my telephone. I was calmer, but still not ready to talk to Shirley about what had occurred. At dinner, Jane and Grace were both on their best behavior. They were probably hoping that I wouldn't mention anything about the night before. I decided to pay them back a little bit for their trespass into my room.

"Have you found anyone yet for that experiment you were going to do, Jane?" I was thinking about what Grace said, about how unimportant stuff like that was, especially if there weren't any real feelings involved. "You should get in touch with Brenda. I know she could help you prove who was right, you or Grace. I could ask her to help you with it, as a favor to me."

Grace had been chewing on her pork roast when I started speaking. By the time I finished, she was sitting there with her mouth closed, and a partially chewed piece of meat sitting on her tongue. Jane was blushing almost scarlet. Mama decided to ask for some clarification from Jane.

"What experiment is that, dear? It must be an important one for Kenny to volunteer to speak to Brenda for you." I jumped in, just to make sure that Jane or Grace didn't say anything that would get the three of us into too much trouble.

"Grace has this theory that, when you love someone, being with someone else, as long as it isn't love, isn't important. Jane thinks Grace is wrong, and they were looking for someone to prove which one of them is right. Since Jane finds Brenda attractive, I thought she'd be perfect for Jane to show Grace how wrong she is."

"That would be playing with fire, Kenny. I doubt that Brenda would cooperate in any event. Grace, do you really believe what you said?" Grace still had that meat in her mouth. She looked like a deer caught in a car's headlights, one who expected to be run over momentarily.

"We were speaking of boys, not other girls. We were just talking anyway." She looked over at Jane. It looked like she was almost ready to cry. Jane rescued her.

"Yes, it was just talk. Grace and I are very happy with just each other. I think Kenny makes a good point though. If someone really believes it shouldn't matter, then it shouldn't make any difference at all who the other one chooses as an experimental partner. Not all of us have a wide selection of potential partners to choose from. It's the act of betrayal, not who it was with, that should matter. Thank you, Kenny, for helping me to prove my point."

"I was happy to help. I know the two of you have been staying up late, trying to figure out which one was right. It had to be difficult, staying up late, going to work in the morning, and then rushing over to the golf course, to give playing lessons to Uncle Bunny." Dad's interest picked up when I said that about the girls coaching Uncle Bunny.

"You're the ones who've been teaching him?" Grace and Jane had the poise to nod at him without looking down at their plates. "Do the two of you know how much money you've cost me, just in the past month? At least two thousand dollars. That doesn't even take into account the emotional pain that losing to Bunny causes me. Bertie and Kenny have lost a very ripe pigeon as well. I must say that I'm surprised that it was you two that transformed his game. The way he's been playing lately, I was sure he'd been getting help from Nicklaus or Watson." Dad was only kidding with them, and when they realized this, they started to relax.

We got through the rest of the dinner with Dad telling Mama about his meeting with the department managers, giving me way more credit than I deserved for the meeting's success and efficiency. As always, hearing Dad say something nice about me had Mama beaming.

I stayed in the dining room after the others left and helped Gerta and Hans clear the table and set up the dining room for the next meal. When that was done, the three of us went into the kitchen. Hans was feeling good again, and was back to being a lot more helpful to Gerta around the house. He was still seeing his chiropractor, but now he went in only once a week for a heat treatment and adjustment. He told me that Dad had told the chiropractor to send the bills to his office. Over the past year, I had been trying to get Hans and Gerta to see Dad's many good points. I'd been trying to get Dad to treat Hans and Gerta more like good friends or family, and less like servants. It seemed to be working out well. Gerta didn't refer to him as 'that man' anymore, at least.

I had put calling Shirley off as long as I could, so I went upstairs and dialed her number before I lost my nerve. She answered quickly, so I wondered if she had been sitting in her room waiting for my call. I should have called her when I first got home from the club. That's what I'd meant to do before I lost my nerve.

"Hi, Shirley. How are you?"

"Hi, Kenny. I'm good. Did you have a nice day?"

"It was good, thanks. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, but there was a lot to do at work, and the time went quickly. I went out to the club to see Uncle Bunny. He's been practicing on the sly, and taking all our money when we play on Saturdays." I thought about my comment about there being a lot to do at work, and about the time passing quickly. I remembered that old saying about time going by quickly when you're having fun. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

"I've been thinking about last night, have you?"

"That's why I couldn't get to sleep. Things happened so fast."

"Do you think so? I didn't feel like that. I thought last night went super. Especially the part about Daddy getting a job, so we can still stay here. Mom's happy too. She didn't like it when Daddy worked Saturdays."

"I meant between you and me. It surprised me a little."

"Oh. I wondered if it would. I thought it would be okay to do that, if we're friends like you said. You said we could find out things from each other. I thought it would be all right, and I've been so curious about that French kissing thing. When you read about it, it doesn't sound very appealing. Now that I've done it, I understand what they mean when they talk about kissing setting women on fire. The thing I did with my hand, maybe that wasn't very nice of me, but you can't tell that much about them from just rubbing against them. I let you do that thing you said you wanted to do, with your hand, so I thought it would be okay if I touched you."

"It was fine, it just surprised me. I wasn't upset or anything. From what you had said, about having no experience, I wasn't expecting that." Shirley giggled.

"I told you I read my mother's romance novels all the time. You can't help wondering about certain things, and now I know. Those books make a lot more sense to me now."

"I'm glad I could help. When I was at work today, the strangest thing happened, and I don't know why. I needed a ride to the printer's, to get some forms printed, and this girl reached over, while she was driving me, and touched me like you did last night. There was no warning or anything. We were talking about what there was to do in Ridgeline, and the next thing I know, she was feeling me up there."

"Does this girl have a name? I mean you must know her if you're driving around in a car with her?" Shirley's voice had taken on a hard edge. I realized my mistake in not easing into it before just blurting out the end result.

"Her name is Ellen, and her mother works for us, and she helps her mother out with the phones when people call in their orders. I had just barely met her. I needed a ride to the printers, and she was waiting for her mother to get done with working, so I asked her for a ride, that's all. On the way there, she asked me to ask her out, so I told her we could have lunch or something. She said she wanted a regular date, so we were talking about Ridgeline, and the things to do here. I didn't want or expect her to do that."

"I'll bet. Did you tell her to stop?"

"I removed her hand and put it back on her side. I didn't know what else to do."

"How long was she touching you, before you moved her hand?"

"Not very long, maybe two or three minutes." Shirley slammed the phone down, making my ear ring from the sound of it. I should have said seconds, not minutes. I didn't know how long it was. I wasn't looking at my watch, trying to time it. In spite of her hanging up on me, I felt better. I'd told her what had happened, and that's what I'd wanted to do. I didn't know how long she'd be mad at me, but I wasn't feeling guilty anymore. The phone rang in my room. I picked it up, and it was Gerta telling me that Shirley was calling for me. I told her I'd take the call.

"Two or three minutes?"

"I meant to say seconds, I was nervous. I don't know how long it was. I was surprised at first, so I reacted slow. I wanted to make her stop as soon as she did it, but I couldn't think of how to do it without seeming rude."

"Were you hard?"

"If I'm awake, I usually am. If not fully hard, I'm usually semi hard."

"Which was it? Hard or semi?"

"Hard, but not because of her, or what she was doing. I was hard before she touched me."

"Because you wanted her to touch you. You were probably flirting with her."

"I'd been thinking about you a lot, all day. I've been worrying since it happened, hoping that you wouldn't get the wrong idea when I told you about it. I like you, and I didn't want you getting mad at me, and deciding you didn't want to be my friend anymore."

"If I did decide that, would it affect my Dad's job with your father?" That hit me hard. I hadn't thought of anything like that. She must not have a very high opinion of me, I thought, not if she believed I was capable of doing something like that. I told her it wouldn't, but I found myself wanting to end our phone conversation.

"Shirley, I need to get off the phone. I didn't get much sleep last night, and I need to get up at five thirty tomorrow. I'll give you a call." After we were off the phone, I changed for bed. I really was tired. Sad and tired. Her asking me that question had really bothered me. Was I going to have to start looking for ulterior motives in every girl I came into contact with? That was one of the things that had bothered me so much about Brenda. It wasn't me she was attracted to, not as much as what she thought I represented. Ellen had made a comment about me being the son of the owner too. Did Shirley just call me back because she was afraid I'd have my father decide not to hire hers?

Luckily, I fell into a deep sleep, right away. I don't remember dreaming. I was ready to go before six thirty, but Dad didn't come downstairs until almost seven. The ride in was quiet. I was rehearsing what I planned to tell Ellen when Dad finally spoke.

"Kenny, Bunny has brought something to our attention that you should be made aware of. There's a discrepancy between your listed date of birth, and your actual date of birth. Your listed birth date is in two days, but Bunny's research shows that your real birth date was on April twenty sixth. You've actually been sixteen for several months now. Bertie and I want to know which day you want to celebrate. There's more to it than that though, and it's going to be pretty complicated. Legally complicated. When that accident occurred, you assumed the identity of the deceased Masters child. You've been celebrating his birthday. All of the orphanage and adoption papers were based on that identity. If we decide to take steps to establish your true identity, it will open up a lot of different things that might better be left unopened, and unexamined. The possible legal consequences for the Coulter's are enormous, and it would also call into question our original adoption of you, an adoption that didn't proceed through normal channels."

"I want to stay who I always thought I was. To me, July sixteenth is my real birthday. I don't care about that other date. I don't want to change anything from the way it is now. Uncle Bunny thinks he's found a place that he can get Anne Coulter into, and she's agreed to go there. I think we should just let everything stay like it is."

"We were hoping you'd say that. All of us think it's for the best. After you turn eighteen, you might choose differently. You'll be an adult then, and they won't make any changes to the adoption decree once you're an adult. Had you chosen differently, Bunny told me that he would represent the Coulters, defending against any charges that might be lodged. There are statute of limitations issues that could be raised. Did Bunny tell you that Sister Clara has decided to stop being a nun? She's filed papers to be released from her vows. She doesn't want to leave the Church, just her vocation. I understand her request is being considered currently, and it is expected to be approved."

When we arrived at work, I told Dad I'd be working on relocating the phone room and the order desk. He told me to look around, but not to make any changes without checking first with him. I went over to the part of the building where the orders were turned in, but they didn't have any free space available over there. When I went back to the phone room area, I found Edith and Ellen both working on the phones, writing out orders. I sat down, wondering if I should try to help them, but I recognized the possibility that I might screw up, because of not understanding how to do things. I waited for Ellen to finish her call, but when she did, she pressed another button, and started tight in, writing another order. The same thing happened when Edith finished her first call.

After five more minutes of this, I figured this was a busy time for them, and I'd go off looking for some space by myself for awhile. I figured I'd just come back later when they weren't so jammed up with phone calls. I left for about forty five minutes, but when I came back, both of them were still busy writing out more orders. I had found two rooms that were together and empty, but they were on a different floor, and in a part of the building that was mostly used to store things. It didn't look like any place that I would pick to do my work in. It was almost ten thirty before Edith and Ellen had a break from having to field the constant calls. Edith got up to use the ladies room, and Ellen remained, answering incoming phone calls in her mother's absence.

"Does your mom need to see you all the time, or just regularly?"

"As long as she knows where I am, and can see or talk to me, there's no problem. She's just paranoid about something happening to me like it did to Bernice. I told her I'm different, that I'd never do anything like that, but she says Bernice probably thought that too. She got a big charge about meeting your father last night. I told her who you were, but she thought it was just a line, like I did. We both recognized your father though, and we heard you calling him Dad. Do you have your own office too?"

"No. I just kind of walk around seeing if I can help with anything. How hard would it be to move all these phone lines?"

"I don't have a clue. Mom said she'd like it if you moved Biddy Walters out of her office, though." She turned her head and pointed to a closed door. "She and mom hate each other because of something that happened years ago. I don't know the story behind it, but you should see them if they both happen to hit the ladies room at the same time, or the break room. It was probably some guy or something. Mom says Biddy's a whore. I don't know. The woman never said two words to me, ever since I started coming here. If you took over her office, it would make my mother's whole year. Just don't put her anywhere near mom if you do it."

"What does Mrs. Walters do?"

"Miss Walters you mean? She's some kind of accounting person. She has one of those big old Gestetner adding machines, the ones that make all that racket. That's another thing Mom hates, especially when she's a little bit hung over. I think she does final reconciliation's in there. Matches up sales and payments or something. She's worked here for about twenty years I think. My mother says they put her in this office, all by herself, because none of the other people in her department wanted to be around her." Edith came back then, and Ellen told her I was thinking about using Biddy Walters office for the new order taking room. From the way she was smiling, I thought Ellen was right when she said doing that would make Edith's year. I stood up and excused myself, but not before reminding Ellen that we had to go pick up the order pads at three.

I went up to see my Dad's secretary, to ask her about Biddy Walters. What she said was that Biddy was a good worker, but that she wasn't easy to get along with. She told me that Biddy audited accounts to make sure that everything was correct in the files. She was a senior accounting staff member who had been removed from any direct supervisory duties because she had problems dealing with people who made mistakes. Dad's secretary described her as a perfectionist. I went over to accounting, introduced myself, and asking the woman in charge to show me one of the files they would normally take to Miss Walters for auditing. She pointed at a full in box of folders on an unoccupied desk.

"Any of those in that wire box are ready to go to her. We'll need to have a drawing soon to see who takes them down to her." She made a face to show it was going to be the loser who took them down there.

"I'll take them, if that's all right?" She laughed.

"Have you ever met Biddy?"

"No, but I hear she's very good at what she does." The lady sniffed, indicating she didn't agree with what I said. "She isn't good at her job?"

"I didn't say anything. It isn't my place to criticize her. I'm sure she wouldn't allow herself to make any mistakes. When I was first hired, I worked for her for my first month. I almost quit ten times at least. She thinks new employees should be fully trained before they come to work here. She made my first month here an absolute hell. When they promoted her, and moved her to her own office, we were all relieved. We don't make any of the new people take files to her, just Jeannie, Kim and me. We all know what we need to do to stay out of trouble with her. No file leaves here unless one of us has checked and approved it first."

"So, the three of you do Miss Walter's job for her?"

"No, we make sure that the file is complete, and that all the information is for the right account. She does the audit."

"Wouldn't it be simpler to give her an office closer to accounting? Right now, she's two floors down, and on the other side of the building."

"And, that's too close, if you want my opinion. We don't mind making the long trip. The longer, the better."

I was really curious to meet this woman. I had a picture in my mind of someone like Mother Superior. When I got to her office, and knocked on the front door, a pleasant voice told me to come in. What I saw surprised me. It was a really attractive blond woman in her late thirties. I came inside and closed the door behind me.

"Miss Walters?"

"Yes, and you are?"

"I'm Kenny Parsons. Silvia Reynolds heard I was coming over this way, and I offered to bring you these files for audit." She laughed when I told her that.

"Silvia didn't have her drawing this time? Parsons? Are you related to Tom Parsons?"

"He's my father."

"I didn't know they had children. I'm sure someone told me they were childless."

"I'm adopted. You can call his secretary, and she'll tell you."

"It isn't any of my business, I'm sure. Thank you for bringing me the files."

I took the time to look around her office. It was about fifteen feet by fifteen feet. That would be a good size for the order room I had envisioned, but it seemed very cramped with all the filing cabinets that Miss Walters had placed inside. Except for a clear path from the door to her desk, all of the room was taken up by big, steel, filing cabinets.

"You need a bigger office Miss Walters. You barely have room to turn around in here. Do you need all these file cabinets?"

"I've been telling them that for five years. With the new accounts they've said we need to be expecting soon, I'm not going to have room to even sit down in here. I'll be auditing files standing up, and doing it from the top of one of my cabinets. I sent your father at least ten memos about it, but he's never replied to any of them."

"You need a room twice this size, and another one just for all these cabinets. I don't think my Dad would be happy to know that his head accounts auditor was all cramped up like this. I wonder what happened to those memos? Dad is very good at replying to people. Did you send him the memos directly?" Biddy didn't reply, she just looked at me. I could see mistrust in her expression. So far, everyone I'd talked to about her had bad things to say. No one had mentioned how attractive she was, just that her attitude was poison. Before I met her, I thought she was a woman in her fifties or so.

"Did Silvia ask you to come down her to see how angry you could make me? I wouldn't put it past any of them."

"May I use your phone, Miss Walters? I'd like to speak with my father." She moved her chair back and indicated her phone with her hand. I picked it up and pressed the internal call button, and Edith answered. "Edith, this is Kenny Parsons. Can you connect me to my father please?" I looked over at Biddy while I waited to be connected.

"Tom Parsons."

"Hi Dad, it's Kenny. I'm in Miss Walters office, the auditor. We were talking about how crowded she was in here, and she told me she's sent you a bunch of memos about it, but you never responded to any of them."

"I respond to all my memos that need a response, Kenny. I don't remember ever getting one from Biddy." I put my palm over the phone.

"Dad says he never got your memos. Would you like to speak with him?" I offered her the phone, but she didn't accept it. "Dad, I need to talk with her some more, but we need to get her a lot bigger office, and a storage room too, for some of these cabinets. She can't even turn around in here."

"Kenny, be careful with her. She gets easily upset, but we need her. She's really good at keeping all the accounts in shape. Try not to piss her off." I thanked him and hung up the phone.

"We're going to find you something better than this, Miss Walters. I wonder what happened to all those memos? My Dad wouldn't lie, he never got any of them."

"I sent them through accounting. I think we both know what happened to them. In a way, I feel better now. At least it wasn't Mr. Parsons ignoring me, which is what I was afraid of. I would appreciate anything you can do to improve my working area. I don't need fancy, but I will require more room than I presently have."

"Other than a phone, and electricity for the lights, and your machine, what other requirements do you have?"

"Space. It would be nice if I had good ventilation too, but my need now is for room to store my files and to perform my audits. I prefer clean too, but I can make do, I suppose." I left her and went back to Dad's office. I asked his secretary about how I'd go about renovating some empty rooms to turn them into a nice office. She told me where to find the maintenance department.

I went downstairs and found maintenance. It was a three man crew. Two of them were eating lunch, and playing some kind of Rummy card game together. The other one was sitting in an overstuffed chair reading a book by George V. Higgins. All three of them were named John, or that's what the name tags sewed on all their shirts said. I think it was a joke they played on everyone in the company.

I had to make a phone call upstairs to my father's office before they would start to listen to what I was telling them. After I made the phone call, I handed the receiver over to one of the John's, to speak with my Dad's secretary. She must have said something to make them decide they needed to pay attention to what I was telling them. When he put the phone down, he pointed to one of the other John's, and he got up and I took him up to the two empty storage rooms I'd found earlier that morning. I described what I wanted to him, and, no matter what I said, he kept nodding at me, but he wasn't writing anything I was telling him down. I stopped talking about halfway through telling him about my requirements.

"You want us to fix up the shitter too?" He was pointing at a door right across from the two empty storage rooms. When I didn't respond, he went out in the hall and took off his massive key ring and searched for the right key for that door. Inside, there was a pretty impressive restroom. There were two enclosed stalls, two nice sinks and a large mirror in a gilded frame over the sinks. John went in and flushed each toilet and ran water through both sinks. There was hot water to the sinks too. In the back, there was a small enclosed tile shower. John ran water through there too.

"What did this used to be?" It was a lot fancier than the other restrooms I'd seen in the building. John shrugged his shoulders and that was all the answer I was going to get from him. We went back out again, and he locked the door behind him.

"You want us to put down some carpet or not? Also, we got a bunch of nice old wooden desks we've been storing. We could use one of them, or else we can move her desk up here at the same time we bring all those cabinets of hers up. You want this done fancy fancy, or just regular fancy? Do you need anything going up on this front door?" I had shut up and was listening to what John was saying. It was obvious that he had a whole lot more experience with these things than I did.

"I'd like it as nice as you can make it, even the storage room for the cabinets. Can you put her name and job title on the door? Also, how soon would all of this be ready?"

"If it's a rush order, we could maybe get it done by next Friday, so about ten or eleven days." I saw the way he was looking at me when he said that. It reminded me of how the printer looked at me the day before, when he gave me the discount for prepaying for the printing order.

"I have fifty dollars that I want to contribute to the maintenance department's entertainment fund." I reached into my pocket and handed him the fifty dollar bill I'd brought with me from home. I'd been thinking I might take Ellen out to lunch or something. John took my money and put it in his pocket, after looking to make sure it was for the correct denomination.

"If we get a cancellation, I could probably see her moving in here either late Thursday or sometime Friday. We often get last minute cancellations this time of year. What about the room she's leaving out of? What are you doing with that one?"

I told him what I wanted, including the phone lines and furniture. He kept nodding as I spoke. When I got to the part about putting in a window that opened between the two rooms, he didn't comment.

"I'll have another contribution to make when that gets done, if it is as nice as I'm hoping it will be. I think a hundred dollars this time, because it has to be nice."

"We might have to go outside for some things if you really want nice. Do we have a budget for this work?"

"If you tell me what you need, I'll get it approved. My father wants a happy group of order takers."

"You want one of them televisions up on one of those stands, like they have at the hospitals now. They don't take up any usable space anyway. I can get you one of those for almost nothing. They could watch some TV while they had some downtime. We've got one, and we have a nice antenna up on the roof. Wouldn't be any trouble to splice them into our signal. We still have two of those oak paneled refrigerators from the bar set up in the old boardroom. They still work good. Nice to have a cold drink when it gets hot."

"I'll leave it to your good judgment. You already know I want it nice for both places. Can you get me a new key for the restroom, and a nice key ring to give to Miss Walters. She might really appreciate her own powder room, and I'm really trying to make her happy."

When we separated, I knew I'd made a wise choice to hand over that fifty dollars. I believed the extra hundred for the phone room would turn out to be a good investment as well. I felt sophisticated at having paid my first ever bribe. I knew Uncle Bunny would approve, but I was less certain about both my parents. To Uncle Bunny, handing out money like that was the same as saying thank you to the people. I saw the way the people at the club went out of their way to make sure he got the best possible service. He took pleasure in treating them well too. I stayed away from the phone room until two forty five. I thought about going to ask my Dad for some money, in case Ellen needed money for gas, or wanted a soft drink or something, but I decided not to ask him.

When we drove over to the printers, Ellen asked me if I was mad at her about something. I said I wasn't, and told her I'd been working all day trying to get things set up for her new phone room. Ellen was happy because someone from personnel had come by and dropped off an employment package for her to complete. I already knew that my Dad was going to pay her for working the past five months. What I didn't know was that he was starting her at the same pay that Edith currently made. That was decent money for a sixteen year old with no previous work experience, and only a ninth grade education.

Ellen and I both looked over the new order forms before we left the printer's office. I told her to try them, and to make a note of any changes she wanted, for when we ordered more. When we were driving back, Ellen asked me if we were going to start dating. I told her that I'd spoken to my other friend, and she and I both thought I should stick to one girl at a time.

"I was pretty sure you'd say something like that. I probably scared you because of grabbing you and all? I didn't mean anything by it, just to let you know that I liked you."

"I knew you didn't mean anything by it, but it kind of got me in trouble with Shirley. She thinks I should have stopped you sooner than I did."

"You told her? What did you say to her?"

"I told her that you touched me, and that I took your hand away after a minute or two." Shirley laughed.

"You told her a minute or two? Why didn't you tell her it was an hour? It probably was about fifteen seconds. I wouldn't have done that if I knew it was going to ruin it between us. You shouldn't have told her about it though. She's going to wonder about what you're doing at work now."

That afternoon, when we were driving home, Dad asked me about all the changes he was hearing about. I told him what I'd done, except for the bribes to the maintenance crew. I told him that all I'd committed to so far was fixing up those two storage rooms and the bathroom. I listed all of the advantages to Biddy, and told him she'd be closer to accounting, but still far enough away so that she and the accounting people weren't in each other's way. I told him how much simpler this made it for Ellen and Edith, and how we could use the phone people and the order people to fill in for each other, if the need ever arose. When I told him it probably wasn't going to cost much, and we really should make room for the coming expansion for both Biddy and Ellen, he seemed satisfied.

As soon as we got home, I phoned Shirley. It took me a few minutes, but I finally managed to work into our conversation that I'd told Ellen I didn't want to date her.

"Did you say anything to her about touching you?"

"I did, and we both thought it was a mistake for her to have done so. She said it was only a few seconds that she did it before I stopped her. She said it was probably less than fifteen seconds, from start to finish. I told her that I only wanted to see one girl at a time."

"What does that mean, one girl at a time?"

"It means I like you, and I'm not interested in going out with anyone else."

"I just wanted to make sure I knew what you meant by it. I'm sorry I got jealous. Last night, I thought about what you'd said. I was thinking about what I wanted instead of thinking about what you were telling me. If something like that happened to me, I think I'd wonder what I should do too."

"I'm going to have to find out one of these days."

"Don't tell me that, you'll make me too nervous. That's all I'll be thinking about, and I'll be worrying every time you move your hands."

"I would probably not do that unless we'd done things to lead up to it. You don't just grab someone out of nowhere."

"I thought about you doing it Monday night. I thought you were going to. When you were kissing my neck in your garage, and you had me moving all around. That's when I thought you were going to."

"I didn't want to scare you. I knew you hadn't done any of this before. I already told you that I don't want us to hurry."

"It doesn't feel like we're hurrying. Sometimes, I worry that I'm going to have a big growth spurt and get to be six five or six six, and then no one will ever want to do any of that with me. Did you know my mother didn't have a single date in her life until she met Daddy? She used to cry every night, she told me. I'm almost as tall as her, and I'm only fifteen. Both of my brothers had their biggest growth spurts between fifteen and sixteen."

"It wouldn't matter to me if you got that tall. I'd just buy one of those step ladders, so we could still kiss." Shirley laughed.

"We could both lie down. My mother says people are the same height when they're lying down together." Shirley's voice had taken on a sultry tone as she said this.

"That's a thought. My bed is pretty big. I think it's about seven feet long. You have room to grow, and you'll still fit." I was starting to rub the outside of my pants, trying to make myself more comfortable.

"Now who's hurrying? A few kisses and you already have me measured for your bed." Her voice was definitely more breathy. She sounded like I felt, hot. We either had to pull back or go forward. I tried to make a good decision, but it was hard when I had my hand wrapped around my dick.

"You're making me touch myself. I was trying to stop doing that."

"How am I making you do that? I'm a mile away, sitting in my own room. I was thinking about taking an early shower when you called. It's a good thing they haven't invented those phones where you can see the people you're talking with yet."

"If I did have a phone like that, I'd have to turn off the picture part, because you're getting me hot."

"You keep saying that, but I'm just sitting here in my bath towel talking to you. I'm not doing anything to make you get hot, you're doing it to yourself."

"I'm going to get undressed too, in a minute. I need a cold shower now. I better lock my door. I wouldn't want anyone walking in and seeing me like this."

"Do you touch yourself in the shower?"

"I'm touching myself right now, and my shower is about forty feet away. I better go in there, else I'm liable to have a big accident before I get there."

"Don't hang up yet, Kenny. I feel like talking more. Are you really doing what you said?"

"Yes, and I'm getting real close. This is going to be a strong one too."

"I wish we did have one of those phones, I'd really like to see you do that. What does it feel like to you when you put that inside a girl?"

"It feels good, but it changes depending on who the girl is, and what your feelings are for her. If it's only somebody you're having sex with, it's good, but it's only physically good. The best is when it is with someone you really care about, then it's good in your head, and your heart, plus it's about ten times as good physically. You cum a lot stronger. All of it is better then." When I got to the last two sentences, my dick started erupting. I was talking to her, trying to control my voice, while my dick was spraying cum up on my stomach and chest. There was a lot of it. She must have heard something in my voice that told her I was cumming.

"You're doing it now, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"What were you thinking, right at the end?"

"I was wishing you were here, and we were doing things together."

"Me too. That's what I was wishing. I think we're going to have to do it soon, just so I can stop thinking about it. I've already decided I want to do it with you."

"When you say things like that, you make it hard for me to be good around you."

"If I wanted you to be good around me, I wouldn't talk to you this way. I'm sure I want to make love with you."

"You only have one first time, Shirley. You need to be sure."

"I am. I was sure Monday night. I almost told you then, but I was afraid to say it. I was afraid you wouldn't want to, or that you'd laugh at me when I said it."

"I want to. That's part of the trouble, I almost always want to. I was thinking about things last night, about how we're young, and about how we'll probably never stay together for that long. Doesn't that worry you?"

"No. I know that. I already told you what I'm afraid of. I think this is the perfect time for me. I feel ready. I've found someone I like, who's taller than me, and who wants to make love to me. I'm ready. I know things will change, but I'm hoping we'll make love nice, and that I'll always have a good memory of us being together."

"It hurts the first time, Shirley." Shirley snorted when I told her that. I didn't know why. I'd warned her. If she still wanted to, I was certainly more than willing. "Can you come over for dinner tonight? We can discuss it."

"Where would we discuss it? On your bed?"

"Wherever you wanted to discuss it. You can always change your mind."

"I'm not quite ready to discuss it tonight, Kenny. Now that we've talked about it, I need to think some more, to make sure I really feel ready. Now that I know we are both thinking the same thing, there's time."

"I did notice Monday night that you seemed a little bit taller. Don't put it off for too long."

"You're just saying that. I'm not taller. Do you think I'm growing that fast?"

"No, I was just joking. I see something that is growing though, and I need to go in and take a shower, before they call me down for dinner. Do you want me to call you later tonight, and we'll discuss things over the phone?"

"Maybe we should wait until tomorrow. This last discussion we had was pretty overwhelming for me." From what she was saying, I got the impression that Shirley might have been doing the same thing I had been. I wondered if all the kids did that. All the ones I knew about did. I wondered if Shirley did things with her hair brush handle like Brenda said she did. I found out later that she didn't. I learned that Shirley kept three of her father's screwdrivers underneath her dresser, and that she was a handy girl when she had a tool in her hands.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 26

It was three o'clock in the afternoon on Friday when one of the John's from maintenance called upstairs to my father's secretary, looking for me. I was down on the loading docks, observing all the changes in the three o'clock route driver scramble. Now, each driver pulled into the yard and parked, handing his keys in to one of the warehousemen standing by. If there were product returns, a list of them was also given to the man taking the truck keys. It was slow at first, and very orderly, with trucks starting to come in by three, but the head man in the warehouse told me that many of the drivers were now coming in after four thirty. The biggest difference I noted was in the driver's attitudes. They weren't angry or upset, and they weren't racing each other to try to secure a more favorable place in the loading line for themselves. One of the warehousemen came over and asked me if my name was Kenny. When I indicated that it was, he pointed at a phone receiver sitting on the counter.

"This is Kenny."

"Kenny, this is Myra. Maintenance called and said those rooms are ready for you to look at now."

"Thanks, Myra. I'm going over to maintenance now."

When I got there, all three of the John's were waiting for me. They all had big smiles on their faces too. The John I'd given the money to told me that the rooms were ready for me to look at. He and I walked over to that part of the building. What I had hoped for was something nicer than what Miss Walters already had, something that she would be happy to move into because of all the extra room it gave her. When we got there, the first thing I noticed was a sign painted on the door that spelled out Bridget A. Walters. Underneath, in smaller letters, were the words: Account Reconciliation. It looked real nice the way they had done it. John unlocked the door and pushed it open, and then, with a bow and a flourish, he presented me with a key ring containing two keys. Engraved on the key ring was "B. A. Walters", again a nice touch, I thought.

Inside, I was amazed at the transformation that had taken place. The walls had been painted a muted ivory shade, there was a rich gold plush carpet on the floor, two nice paintings, one a landscape, and the other, some kind of Impressionist piece, were hanging on the wall, and all of the office furniture was made of a darker wood, perhaps mahogany, and it all matched well. There was a brown leather swivel chair behind the desk, and two other brown leather padded chairs sitting in front of it. Against one wall was a beige cloth sofa and a low coffee table. I recognized a brown metal mini refrigerator just to the left of the sofa. This office was at least as nice as my father's. A door now connected the two offices, and when John opened the door, I saw that, while less fancy, it was certainly more than adequate as a storage area for Miss Walter's files.

Next, we went over to the bathroom across the hall, and it had been freshly painted too, and there was also newly laid tile on the floor. To say that I was pleased would be an understatement. Everything looked first rate, better than anything I had asked for or expected.

"Wow. This is amazing. I can't believe you did everything so quickly. She's going to love it." I was glad I had brought another fifty dollar bill with me too, because I took it out of my pocket and handed it to John. "Thank you so much for doing such a great job. This exceeds all my expectations. I really appreciate it." John was smiling, obviously pleased with my reaction to the effort he and his maintenance cohorts had made.

"You let us know when you want that other place done up. We've got everything we're going to need for it. We traded a few things we didn't need for the TV and the wall mount, and we were able to get a really nice corner sectional too." He waved to me and left. I went over to the phone and pressed the internal line button. Edith connected me to my Dad's office.

"Hey Dad, you should see the new office they did for Miss Walters. It's nicer than yours. Do you want to see it, or should I show it to her?"

"It's your project, Kenny. Just make sure you're ready to leave by five o'clock. Your mother and I are having dinner at the club with Ron and Lois Jones tonight, at seven."

"No problem. I'll be outside your office before five. The route guys seem to like the new loading system too. Are you getting any reports of problems?"

"No, surprisingly no one is complaining about anything so far. Accounting was concerned about the extra commissions, but they hadn't factored in any of the savings we were making on increased sales per truck. After Art explained it to them, they stopped worrying about those commissions."

I walked down and over to Miss Walters office and knocked on her door. There was a delay, but finally she told me to come in. When I opened the door, she was standing and smoothing down her skirt with both hands. There was a definite smell of female arousal in the air. I pretended not to notice it, but the thought that she had been in her office, playing with herself, that was more than a little bit exciting to me. Even adults did that, I thought.

"Hi Miss Walters. Maintenance finished working on a new office we thought you might like. I wanted to show it to you to see if you like it better than this one. There's a lot more room."

"Really? After you left the other day, I figured that was the last I'd hear about getting more room. That's the way it usually works around here. No one ever follows through. Where is this new office?"

"It's upstairs over on the same side as accounting, but not so close that they'd be bothering you all the time. The office is on the fourth floor, so you'd still have a one floor separation from them."

"Who else is on that floor? I don't remember any other offices on the fourth floor. Isn't that floor used just for storage?"

"I found out from my Dad's secretary that the fourth floor used to be the executive floor, before they moved everyone up to the sixth floor. There are some nice rooms up there being wasted. Come take a look. I'm sure you'll like what we've picked out for you, but if you don't, you can stay here until we find you something you do like. Dad already told me to keep you happy. He doesn't want you to feel crowded or upset." I could see that she had doubts and concerns about what I was telling her, but she did come around her desk, grabbing her purse, and following me as I led the way.

It took us about three minutes to walk over to the other side of the building, and up a single flight of stairs. We turned right in the hallway and walked about fifty feet to her office door. I paused in front, while she had a chance to read her name and job description painted on the office door. I handed her the new key ring with my own small bow and flourish. I wasn't above learning from the John's. She opened the door, took one look at the carpet and room appointments, and then she started crying. I wasn't expecting her to do that.

We spent the next ten minutes slowly and carefully examining everything in those two rooms and the bathroom. When she was done examining everything, I got a hug and at least thirty fervently spoken thank you's from her. To say that she loved having her own, private, bathroom would be to grossly understate the obvious.

"I can get maintenance to get everything moved for you whenever you're ready. If you'd rather keep your old desk, we can change this one for yours."

"No. This one is perfect. I'm really overwhelmed that your father did this for me. I never expected anything like this."

"He considers you a very valuable employee, and he made it very clear to me that he didn't want you upset because we didn't give you something nice enough. That bathroom is yours alone too. Only the janitorial staff has another key. Call John, in maintenance, if you need anything changed. He's also the one who put your office remodeling ahead of all his other scheduled jobs. We weren't expecting this to be done until next Friday. They gave it top priority for you."

I walked with her back to her old office. She told me that she'd like to be moved in on Monday, and she would take care of moving everything but her filing cabinets. The whole time we were walking, she was telling me how appreciative she was that someone had finally noticed her plight and taken steps to improve things. I felt pretty good about pleasing her like that. It hadn't been my original intent, but, still, it was good that it had worked out that way. Just the fact that she thought she was valuable enough to the company for us to do this for her, had to be a good thing, and would make her feel more appreciated.

When we got back home, Dad went up to get changed to go out to dinner, and Mama was already getting herself ready. I called Shirley, and asked her if she felt like playing nine holes with me. As soon as she got back from checking with her mother, I ran downstairs to see if Hans was able to give me a ride. Hans was gone, but Gerta said she could drive me. We went over to Shirley's house and picked her up before heading over to the club. We teed off on the back nine at five fifty, and managed to finish up at seven fifteen. Shirley and I both played quickly. We did some kissing over on the tee at the fourteenth hole, but that was only because Shirley was paying me off for my birdie at the thirteenth. We didn't do any touching, because Shirley was worried about someone seeing us out there. When we were done, I saw Hans waiting for us. He was sitting at an outside table over by the snack bar, having an iced tea while he waited.

He had the limo, and I asked Shirley if she needed to go straight home, or if she wanted to ride around for awhile. She decided to ride around with me. After we were settled in the back, I checked the ashtray, and there were three rubbers stuffed in there. That was one of the things I liked about Hans. He was always an optimist. Once Shirley had satisfied herself that people couldn't see us inside, because of the tinted windows, she relaxed, and let me touch her while we kissed. We were doing a whole lot of kissing, touching, and rubbing, but, every time I tried to get under her blouse or inside her panties, she'd stop me, telling me to go slower. I could tell she was as excited as I was, but she still wouldn't let me do more than rub her outside her blouse, or over her panties. I had placed her hand on my dick, early on in our make out session, but she wasn't doing much more than maintaining contact with it. She wasn't squeezing it, or trying to fish it out of my pants. finally, I stopped trying to make further progress with her.

"What's the matter, Shirley?"

"I don't feel comfortable like this, I'm sorry. I need to feel safe before I let you do things. Suppose we get in an accident or something? What do you think our parents would say if we got killed in a wreck, and they found your hand inside my panties?"

"Something like 'At least they died happy'? How do I know what they'd say? We aren't going to crash. Hans is a very good driver. If we did crash, we wouldn't be killed anyway, because we're only going about thirty miles an hour."

Shirley had slapped my arm when I said that about dying happy, but she giggled when she did it. I used the intercom to tell Hans to drive us to Shirley's house. We were both sitting up straight while driving over there. I wasn't mad or upset with her, just excited, but I think that Shirley mistook my excitement, tinged with a little bit of frustration, for me being upset.

"Kenny, you shouldn't be mad just because I wasn't comfortable doing a lot in this car."

"I'm not mad. I was trying to figure out someplace where we'd both be comfortable, that's all. There are those things we talked about that I'm pretty anxious to do."

"I am too. I didn't want to do them in a car though." I listened to what she said, starting to calm down, as my blood started circulating more normally again. I had been letting my passion do my thinking for me again, concentrating on the excitement and the adrenaline that was urging me forward. Thinking back, I could see how pushy I might have seemed to her, especially since I was constantly trying to override her very clear protests and objections. I could see why she thought I was angry too. "I'm sorry, Shirley. I got too excited. I shouldn't have tried to keep going, not after you wanted me to stop."

"I didn't want you to stop. It's just that I'm not comfortable in this car, and with someone else here with us too. If it was dark, and we were all alone, it would be different." I turned to her and smiled.

"Today's my birthday, I'm sixteen."

"You should have told me, I would have gotten you a present. How come you aren't having a party or anything?"

"We don't have parties for birthdays. I don't think we even celebrate them. We didn't at the orphanage either, but I thought most regular families did."

"We sure do. We always have at least a cake with candles, and some ice cream. We sing the happy birthday song too."

"I don't mind not celebrating, but it seems like no one even remembered it was my birthday." We had pulled up in front of Shirley's house. I got out with her and walked her to the door. We did a little kissing, but not like we'd done in the limo. Shirley didn't even open her mouth when I tried to worm my tongue inside. I was just going to tell her goodbye, when she surprised me and told me no one was home, and invited me inside. The way she asked me sounded very promising, and I felt my dick coming to attention.

She put her key in the lock and turned it. As soon as she opened the door, all the lights came on and people inside were all yelling "Surprise!" and "Happy Birthday!" at me. I saw Mama and Dad, Uncle Bunny and Elizabeth, and Jane and Grace too. Gerta was there, and Hans clapped me on my shoulder as he moved me aside, to go take his place next to Gerta. I saw another woman, one with very short, and very dark, hair. She looked really familiar to me, even though I didn't recognize her, not until I heard her speak. It was Sister Clara, but she wasn't dressed in her habit now, and she looked a lot different dressed in regular clothes. For one thing, she had a really good shape on her. I blushed at having thought something like that about a nun, especially a nun that I was related to.

I saw Brenda then. She was standing in a corner, by herself. She was smiling, but it was a very nervous smile. I think she was afraid I'd yell at her, or cause some kind of a scene. I was too happy that they had remembered it was my birthday to worry about my problems with Brenda. She looked wonderful, but she always did, but I can't say that I wasn't affected by her presence. I saw Mrs. Connor next to Mama. Shirley's parents were there too, and both her brothers. Mama came over and wrapped me up in one of her tight bear hugs. Without letting me go from her hug, she leaned up, and started whispering in my ear.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Please be nice to Brenda tonight. I didn't have the heart not to include her in our celebration. It's just for tonight."

Dad came over as soon as Mama let me go, and he tried to shake my hand. Instead of letting him get away with that, I put my arms around him and gave him one of Mama's famous hugs. Next, I did the same for Uncle Bunny, then Elizabeth. I went from one person to another, Sister Clara, Shirley, Jane, Grace, Mrs. Connor, until finally, only Shirley's family, and Brenda were left. I went over to Mr. and Mrs. Jones and shook their hands and thanked them for lending their home for my surprise party. I shook hands with Shirley's brothers too. They were both every bit as tall as their father was. The whole family looked too big for their living room, probably because the ceilings weren't that high. Finally, only Brenda was left, and I walked over to her, smiling. I took her in my arms and hugged her.

"Thanks for coming Brenda. It wouldn't be the same without you here. I hope we can put the past behind us and be friends."

Of course, my saying that to her must have released all the strain and uncertainty she'd been under, because she started crying really hard, and shaking, and nothing Mama, her mother or I did could make her stop. I left her with those two, and went back over to be with the others. About two minutes after I left, Brenda regained control of herself. I saw her looking over at me. I was standing next to Shirley, and I had my fingers interlaced with hers, while the two of us were talking to Sister Clara.

I found out some interesting news from Aunt Clara, which is what she asked me to call her. The first news was that Anne Coulter had gone into treatment at a sanitarium that Uncle Bunny had found for her, just outside of Davenport, Iowa. Aunt Clara had traveled up there with her, and had gotten her settled in, before returning to Ridgeline. Aunt Clara was on a personal leave while she waited to be released by the Church from her vows. Uncle Bunny was making a substantial donation to the Church in an effort to get everything handled smoothly, and without any sort of delay. The reason he had done this was because Aunt Clara was going to live with her mother, and had agreed to take care of her, and, hopefully later, her sister, Anne. I was happy to learn that Uncle Bunny was doing such a good job of taking care of the things I'd asked of him.

When I went over to thank him, he was engaged in a whispered conversation with Elizabeth. Before I could get over to where they were, the two of them left through the front door. I took a hard left and moved over to where Jane and Grace were talking to Ron Jones, Shirley's youngest older brother. He towered over Jane, but Grace was tall enough that they didn't look too odd standing close together. Grace was flirting with Ron, and he was doing his best to keep up with her wisecracks and double entendres. I heard her asking him whether or not his whole body was proportional. He was blushing when he got what she had meant. Jane got it sooner, and she was turning red too, but it was from anger. I grabbed her hand and pulled her away, walking over to where Brenda was standing.

"Look who I've got Brenda. You remember Jane, don't you? She's one of your biggest admirers, aren't you, Jane?" Jane looked at Brenda, and nodded that she was. "Brenda is self conscious because she thinks her breasts are too small, and her hips are a little wide. Why don't you tell her what you did to make your boobs grow?" Having done my matchmaking good deed for the day, I went right back over to Shirley's side. "Were you supposed to keep me busy and occupied while they got everyone here and got things set up?"

"Yes. I was going to call you at five thirty and ask you to go hit some balls with me. I was really surprised when you called me and asked if we could go play. I called your house and your mother said it was even better that way. That's when they decided to move everything over here, instead of at your house."

She moved over close to my ear and told me that she would have done more in the limo with me, if it hadn't been for knowing about the party, and not wanting to get herself all mussed up. I noticed Elizabeth and my Uncle Bunny coming back in through the front door together. I was pretty sure they had gone out to smoke some marijuana. I saw Mama making a bee line straight for them, and watched as both of them started laughing at her while she was scolding them for what she too believed they'd just gotten through doing. Mrs. Connor was standing behind Mama, and the look she was giving my Uncle Bunny was a purely evil sight. Maybe I shouldn't have been happy to see Uncle Bunny ignoring both her, and her look, but I was.

I looked over at Grace, and she had stopped paying any attention at all to Ron. All of her attention was centered on Jane, and on what she was doing with Brenda. Those two were sitting together on the sofa, talking about Brenda's favorite subject, Brenda. Jane and Brenda were each examining strands of Brenda's hair, looking for split ends which Brenda always claimed to have, but could never seem to find, no matter how thoroughly she looked. If she had any, Jane was going to find them, because she was sitting really close, going over each hair, slowly and carefully. Her chest was rubbing against Brenda's forearm, but neither girl made any move to change this "accidental" contact.

I felt a small rush of anxiety myself, watching those two together. I imagined that Grace was feeling a lot more than I was. She better be careful, I remember thinking, because there was no denying the fact that Jane was really smitten with Brenda. If Grace insisted on her right to flirt, whenever she got a chance to do it, Jane knew where to go now to show Grace how that felt for her. I walked over to Grace again, touching her arm to get her attention. "Brenda wants to move back to Ridgeline. She doesn't like Bolling. Mama might let her stay in Elizabeth's old room until you and Jane leave for college." She looked right at me, before mumbling some hurried excuse to Ron, and almost ran over to join Jane and Brenda.

Shirley's older brother had taken off to go somewhere else, but I did get a chance to spend a few minutes talking to Ron Jr. It didn't take long for my neck to get tired from having to bend up to look at him while we talked. He was asking me to be nice to Shirley, and I also heard a threat somewhere in there too. It wasn't said angrily, or with any real menace, but it was certainly there, and he wanted to make sure I knew it. He seemed like a nice guy, and we talked mostly about cars. He asked me about Grace, but I told him that Grace and Jane were a couple. He started asking me about whether Jane and Grace ever did anything together with guys. I told him they were like my sisters, and so he stopped talking about it. He was still interested though, I could tell.

There was a big chocolate cake and several kinds of ice cream. I listened as they all sang happy birthday to me, and then I blew out the candles. I couldn't help it when the smoke from the candles got all up in my eyes and made it look like I was crying. I was happy. Mama and Dad took all of us outside so we could see my birthday present. It was a new car. It was a new white 1985 Cadillac El Dorado convertible, with a red leather interior. It was a beautiful car. I just wished I'd learned how to drive a car. Hans told me that he'd teach me, then Dad offered, and Mama and Gerta said they would take me out too. Uncle Bunny came over and told me that he was going to take me over to the driver's license exam station in Bolling on Monday, to get me an instruction permit.

"Don't I have to pass a test or something first?"

"That's just a formality. Bertie has the handbook for you to study for the written test. You need to pass a vision test too, but with your eyesight that won't be a problem. I'm going with you too, and I'm sure we can handle any problems that might come up. You need fifty hours of supervised driving with an adult over twenty one, before you can get a real license. Once you get the basics though, all the rest is just experience. It's a lot like golf carts. You'll have the hang of it no time."

When we left, at around ten, Jane drove me home in my car, while Grace followed us in Jane's car. I had managed to slip outside for a few minutes with Shirley at around nine thirty. She was a lot more receptive to my kisses, standing in her own backyard. Brenda, Jane and Grace spent the whole rest of the party sitting together on the couch. Shirley and I came over and spent time with them. Brenda seemed sad whenever she looked over at Shirley and me holding hands. Jane had finally grown tired of worshiping Brenda, and she and Grace were sending lover's signals back and forth to each other. Jane handed me the keys to my new car, kissing me on the cheek, and thanking me for helping her with Grace. The only sour note struck between her and me was when she asked me how I could possibly prefer Shirley over Brenda.

"Brenda is only interested in herself. Shirley is interested in me, and a lot of the other people around her. Shirley likes me for just being me. Brenda cares about what I have, and what I can do for her."

"That's not what I felt tonight, talking to her, and watching her watch you. She never once mentioned money or your family. She asked me if you were happy, and wanted to know if I thought you ever thought of her. She loves you. It might only be love her way, but, what other way does she have?"

"I've got Shirley now, and I'm a lot happier for it. Forgetting all of the stuff that happened, Brenda and I still weren't compatible together. I'm water, and she's some kind of oil or something. I look at her, and I can certainly appreciate the way she looks. I remember how good she felt, but I knew, from the things she did, that she would never just be mine. I don't want someone like that. Brenda will take care of Brenda, and she'll find someone who loves her enough to put up with getting only that part of her she's willing to give to him, just like Emily did. I can't accept that, because, even if it was only forty per cent of her, she'd still want a hundred per cent of me."

"You still love her, Kenny. When you look at her, anyone can tell that you still do."

"I probably do love her, but not like I did before. I wish her well, but not with me. The funny thing is, without Shirley, I wouldn't have been strong enough to let Brenda stay at my party. I'd have told Mama she had to go. Shirley made me calm enough inside that I didn't need to strike back at Brenda for hurting me. Shirley healed me enough just by being my friend. Did you notice that Shirley wasn't worrying about Brenda?"

"No, I didn't notice that."

"I guess you were too engrossed in something else to notice." Jane and I both started laughing. "Did you see how fast Grace came running over to sit with you? I told her that Brenda wanted to live in Elizabeth's room for awhile."

"I hope you were lying. I'm not sure I'd be able to keep my hands off her, not if she was going to be around me all the time. It was hard doing it tonight, even with all those people around us."

"I know. She's got some kind of magic spell or something. One minute, everything is perfectly normal, and the next minute, all you can think about is jumping on top of her and doing everything there is to do to her."

"I agree. Not about the spell thing, but about wanting to do things with her. She smells so good. I love Grace, but she doesn't smell as good as Brenda does. Does she taste good too?" This was a little bit past the line I'd normally draw, but, it was late, and I was feeling a little excited by our conversation anyway.

"She tastes better than good. She has a special flavor, like a syrup, but not like a maple flavor. It's different, stronger, like smoked oysters, or sardines that are sweetened, or something like that. When she cums really strong, she shoots it out of her pussy, and it's even better tasting then."

"Fuck this, you better stop, Kenny. You shouldn't have told me that. She squirts huh? I knew this girl in high school, she could do that, but it wasn't like sweet sardines. It was more like dead fish, ones that were out in the sun too long."

"I was only kidding. She tastes even better than oysters or sardines. You know that black skin from those glazed hams that Gerta makes, the burned part? Did you ever lick the glaze off of that? That's what she tastes like. Emily tastes almost as good. Hers is a little bit sour tasting too."

"What does Shirley taste like?"

"What does Grace taste like? Hell, what do you taste like?" I started laughing, because I didn't know what else to do. Talking about Brenda that way had pulled open a door that I thought had been permanently closed. I was a little bit afraid. Jane must have recognized it.

"You don't need to think about her. Forget we ever talked like this. Tell me what you want me to get you for your birthday, Kenny. I want to get you something nice. I didn't know what you wanted."

"Teach me how to hook the ball like you do. I've watched you do it, but I can't see what you're doing that I'm not. My ball doesn't hook like yours does."

"All right, I will. I'll show you a better way to chip too. I've watched how you do it, and you aren't taking advantage of the green you sometimes have to work with. That could help you save one or two shots a round. You miss a lot of greens, right in front, but you're pitching when you should either be chipping, or else putting."

That night, I had some really terrible dreams. I kept getting into car wrecks with other people in the car. One by one, everyone I knew was in a wreck with me. I'd never get hurt, other than minor scrapes and bruises, but most of them would either die or be dismembered. By the time I woke up, I was starting to scream at people, telling them not to ride in any car that I was driving. Someone was pounding on my door, the one I'd locked before going to bed. It took me a minute to recognize Uncle Bunny's voice calling for me to open the door.

"Kenny, open the door. There's something of mine in your room that I need to get." I got up, unbolting the door, and letting him into my room. He went right over to the heater vent, the one against my closet wall, and used a coin to undo the screws on the covering screen. When he got the covering off, he reached in and brought out a small, black pistol. It looked like one of those police revolvers they show all the time on the television. He stood up again, looking the gun over quickly. It looked to me like he was checking to see if it was loaded, and then, satisfied, he quickly put it away, stuffing it down his right front pants pocket. "Put the grille back on for me would you. I'll be at my office. Wake your father up for me, and have him give me a call there. Don't scare Bertie, Kenny. Just tell Tommy to call me, it's important." With that, and no further explanation, he turned and left my room.

Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 27

I replaced the vent cover, right after Uncle Bunny left. I looked at my alarm clock and it was five after seven. I didn't usually get up so early on a Saturday morning, but, with what had just happened, there was absolutely no hope that I'd ever be able to get back to sleep. Nothing in Uncle Bunny's demeanor had indicated any great worry, but the very fact that he felt he might need his pistol was of great concern to me. I got dressed and went downstairs.

Hans and Gerta were in the kitchen, finishing up the last of their breakfasts. I asked for poached eggs on toast, and Gerta talked me into having a slice of ham with it. For some reason, both she and Hans preferred ham to regular bacon, although both enjoyed almost any kind of sausage links too. I went and poured myself a glass of milk, and sat down at the table.

"What was Bunny doing here so early? Did he need something from upstairs?" Hans took a sip of his coffee, not really concerned about anything, just making morning conversation with me.

"He came into my room and got a pistol he had hidden in one of the heating vents. The one over by my closet." I said it as much for it's shock effect, as for any other reason. I had been a little curious about the pistol, but not too alarmed. Uncle Bunny really didn't seem like the kind of person who would ever need to use a pistol. If anything surprised me, it was that he had one, and had forgotten to take it when he came to get some of his other personal things, after I was moved into his room. He just didn't seem like someone who would be comfortable around any sort of violence. Guns implied violence to me, because of the TV programs and the movies I'd seen since I was very young.

"Why would he come so early to get that? Did he say anything to you?" Hans seemed concerned.

"He told me to tell Dad that he'd be at his office, and for Dad to call him. He said it was important, but for me not to say anything in front of Mama, or to get her worried."

"Did you go wake up Mr. Parsons, Kenny?" Hans looked like he was concerned now.

"No. Uncle Bunny told me to do it without disturbing Mama. I was going to phone him, and give him the message that way."

Gerta was already reaching for the phone, and began pressing the two digit code for Dad's bedroom. No one picked up the phone. "He's in with your Mama." Gerta pressed Mama's room code. "Bertie, is Mr. Parsons awake yet? Kenny's down here in the kitchen and needed to ask him a question." There was a pause of about fifteen seconds while Mama said something to Gerta. "I think it's something he needs to tell him. Something he forgot to tell him yesterday, about business. He seems worried about it." There was another delay, and Gerta waved me to come over to the phone. She put the receiver in my hand. "Have him come downstairs, Kenny. Tell him it's about business, and it's important. That way, he won't worry your Mama."

Dad came on the line. He sounded like he'd just be awakened from a very sound sleep.

"Kenny?"

"Hi Dad. I need you to come downstairs to the kitchen. It's about business, and it's important."

"Is it so important that it can't wait until I get up? I didn't get to sleep until after two o'clock, Kenny."

"Dad, it's important." I heard him replace the receiver. When I turned to tell Hans and Gerta that he was probably coming, Hans had already left, so I told Gerta. Dad got to the kitchen about a minute later. He had on a robe and slippers, and his hair was all messy. That was the first time I'd seen him when he wasn't dressed and groomed. He seemed older to me, the way he looked there in the kitchen.

"Tell me what was so important that it couldn't wait, Kenny."

"Uncle Bunny was here. He got a pistol out of my room. He told me to wake you up and tell you he's at his office, and for you to call him there. He didn't want me to worry Mama, and he said it's important." Dad turned and left the kitchen. I knew he was headed for his study. A minute later, Hans came back into the kitchen and whispered something into Gerta's ear, kissed her on the cheek and went out the back way, towards the garage. I heard an engine starting a minute later. I assumed it was Hans. I sat back down at the table, waiting for Gerta to make my breakfast. She was just standing there, in the center of the kitchen, looking worried and not doing anything. "Gerta, are you going to make my breakfast, or should I get myself some cereal?" I think she had forgotten all about my breakfast. Ten minutes later, I was just starting to eat my poached eggs, when Dad came back in the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee. He was already dressed, and his hair was combed.

"Tell Bertie that I needed to go out on business. Kenny, you stay here, with your mother. Don't leave until I get back. If Walt Connor shows up here, tell him that Georgia and Brenda aren't here. Ken Dyer is sending one of his men over here to park on the street by the driveway. At three o'clock this morning, someone fired some shots through a bedroom window at Bunny's house. Elizabeth was shot in the arm, but she's wasn't hurt that badly, more of a scratch according to Bunny. Bunny thinks it might have been Walt."

"Why would Mr. Connor want to shoot Elizabeth?"

The shots were fired into Bunny's bedroom." Dad was smiling when he told me that.

"Elizabeth was in Uncle Bunny's bedroom?"

"Apparently. Listen, if your mother gets wind of any of this, tell her that Georgia and Brenda aren't in any danger. Bunny spoke to Georgia an hour ago, and they're both fine, at the apartment in Bolling. They aren't going to be letting anyone in there either."

At noon, Dad came back home. When Mama had come downstairs at ten, she had been expecting that all of us would be going to the club for golf like we usually did. I told her that Dad had gone out on business, but she said we'd go play without him. That's when I told her that Dad said we had to stay inside. Mama got upset when I couldn't answer any of her questions, but Gerta took her aside and talked to her. I'm not sure what Gerta said, but Mama settled down after that. As soon as Dad came through the door, Mama was all over him, alternating between being mad and demanding information, and being worried and demanding reassurance that everyone was all right. Dad told her that Walt Connor had been arrested, then released, because he had an ironclad alibi. He and Richard were in Linden, visiting with Mr. Connor's sister. They had spent the night there. Constable Dyer had phoned over to Walt's sister's house, and was satisfied from what she said, that Walt had been telling the truth.

After it had gotten light out, the police went into Uncle Bunny's back yard, looking for any evidence left by the person doing the shooting. What they found there were several deep indentations, concentrated in the area of the ground that was directly in front of Uncle Bunny's window. The investigator told Uncle Bunny it looked like it might be the heel impression from a woman's high heels. when Dad told Mama that, she said one word: "Georgia". Dad nodded to her that he agreed.

Mama went to the living room and picked up the phone, dialing a number. She was on the phone for ten minutes before hanging up. When she came back to the library, she told Dad she was sending Hans to Bolling to pick up Georgia and Brenda, to bring them back to our house. That's when Dad told her that Hans was with Uncle Bunny.

"What's he doing with Bunny?"

"Making sure that nobody shoots him. He came over to Bunny's office, carrying several weapons, including a wicked looking knife and a pistol. He looked like he knew how to use them too. I wouldn't want to try to get past him, I know that much."

"Someone has to go get her. She's too upset to drive herself."

"Is she upset because she missed?"

"Thomas! Just for that, you can go get her. Take Kenny with you, and take his new car. Hurry up too, because I'm afraid she's going to attempt something stupid. You know how emotional she gets."

"Bertie, think about this, before you have me go traipsing off to bring her closer to Bunny. Suppose she wants to try it again?"

"Thomas, if you won't go, I'll go get them myself. She needs to be around people who care for her now. She's hurt and confused. This has been a terrible time for her. First Walt, and now this situation with Bunny and Elizabeth. Is it any wonder that she isn't thinking that well?"

"How long are you planning on having them here, and where do you plan on putting them?"

"As long as it takes, and we'll put them in Kenny's room. That would be the easiest. Kenny, you don't mind sleeping downstairs for a few nights, just until we sort this all out, do you?"

"Brenda's going to live here? In my room?"

"It's only temporary, just until we can find her a nice home of her own. She's always lived in Ridgeline, Bolling isn't any place for Georgia and Brenda to live. We'll get this little misunderstanding settled, and then we'll find her a nice little home of her own. If we had paid more attention to her, none of this would have happened. This was just a cry for some attention."

"It was attempted murder, Bertie, and that's not my idea of a cry for attention. Bunny or Elizabeth might have been killed."

"But they weren't, were they? You're a man, you couldn't possibly understand what something like this can lead you to contemplate. Are you going to go get them, or must I?"

"No, I'll go. If she takes it in her fool head to shoot Kenny or me, I hope you won't think that was only another cry for attention from her. I had a lot I needed to get accomplished this weekend, Bertie. Having a houseful of weeping, vindictive women isn't going to be conducive to my being prepared for a full schedule of important meetings this next week."

"One weekend without working isn't going to kill you, Thomas."

"No, but it might end up costing all of us several million dollars. I have had my eye on a whole new line of business for us, restaurant food supply. I have three meetings set up to interview people who have worked in that area, staggered over this coming week. I don't want to go into those meetings unprepared, and I brought home a lot of information that needs to be read and digested, before those meetings take place."

"Then I better go pick them up. You stay here and do what you need to. You should have said something sooner about this, Thomas. Daddy talked about us breaking into that market years ago. He said that organized crime was too entrenched in it to allow it to be safe or profitable."

"He was talking about competing with them. My idea is to try to supply those companies that already do compete with them, and let them continue to handle the distribution, and the problems that might be associated with competing in that market. It's growing too fast for us not to have a share of it."

"Isn't that still dangerous? I mean, it is organized crime."

"Bertie, organized crime is business. It's just that they operate under a different business model than we do. They depend on customer loyalty just like we do, they just offer their customers a different incentive to stay loyal. The restaurant supply business has grown so large now, it's difficult to differentiate between one company and another. They're all legitimate as far as the products they deliver. Some just open their accounts differently. If you were to look at five different operations, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the so called legitimate corporations, and the ones supposedly run by criminals. Those distinctions become blurred with time."

"That's all very interesting I'm sure, Thomas. I better run, Georgia's expecting someone to pick them up. If we do decide to get into that business, promise me you won't bring any of your new business associates home for dinner. I don't want our good silver stolen." Mama grabbed my arm, and started us towards the front door.

"I don't have my car keys, they're up in the room. I don't want to go with you anyway. Why don't you take Jane?"

"You go get your keys, Kenny. Georgia and Brenda need us, and they're our family."

"This isn't what you agreed to, Mama."

"Brenda told me last night that you told her you were willing to forget the past. I don't want her to be all alone on the trip here, Kenny. You know it will start trouble if I ask Jane to accompany me." I went up to get my keys. I had said that to Brenda, but I didn't really mean it. I wanted to say something to relax her at the party, to let her know I wasn't going to be making a big scene. I wanted us to stay apart.

We got to the apartment in Bolling in thirty minutes. My new car rode like a dream. I had helped Mama take the top down, and it was nice driving like that, with the wind from the speeding car keeping us cool, and also blowing our hair all over the place. When we got there, neither of them were packed. It took Mama another thirty minutes to convince Mrs. Connor that going to the house with us was the right thing for her to do. Brenda had her things ready even before her mother had been talked into going by Mama. Several times she tried to get conversations started with me, but each time I managed to answer her in a way that closed off further talk on that particular subject. Finally she found a topic I was willing to talk about.

"Shirley seems very nice. She's so tall."

"She is nice, very nice. Her whole family is tall."

"You seemed to like her, a lot."

"I do. She plays golf, and she's very thoughtful of other people, and concerned about their welfare."

"I care about other people too, Kenny. I spent nearly all my time trying to figure out what you wanted, and how I could get it for you." I looked over at her, and I just had to smile.

"You have a very convenient and flexible memory, Brenda."

"Are you having sex with Shirley?" That ended that topic of conversation. I got up and went over to stand by Mama. When Mrs. Connor came out into the living room five minutes later, she was carrying a large suitcase. I took it from her and took it down to the Cadillac waiting at the foot of the stairs. Mama had the keys, so I sat it by the trunk. It took a few more minutes, but finally they came out and locked up the apartment and came down the stairs to the car. Brenda set her own suitcase next to her mother's. When Mama opened the trunk for me, I lifted both cases into the trunk and closed the lid. All three of them were already in the car. Mama and Mrs. Connor were sitting in the front, and Brenda was in the back, on the driver's side, an expectant smile on her face. When I went to get in, Mrs. Connor leaned forward and pulled the seat back forward, so that I could get through to the back seat. I could have complained, but I knew it wouldn't do any good, or accomplish anything anyway.

"Thank you for giving up your bedroom for us, Kenny. I've been dreaming about sleeping in your bed again." Brenda wasn't done with making her pitch for full reinstatement.

"That's all right. Mama says it's only for a few days. I'll be sleeping in Bea's old bed, and it's a nice one too." One of the things that Brenda had always resented was knowing that I had slept with Bea, all over the house for awhile. I wanted her to think she wasn't any more important as a memory to me than Bea was.

"What do you like best about Shirley? I mean she doesn't have that good of a figure, especially up on top." Brenda was determined to get right into this. I knew her, and she wasn't going to stop until something stopped her.

"I like it that she's a decent person. She doesn't go around screwing every boy she meets." that brought Mrs. Connor and Mama wading into the conversation. Both of them told me I needed to apologize to Brenda. "Why should I apologize to her. I'm not the one who did anything wrong. Tell her to leave me alone and quit talking to me, or asking me questions about my friends."

"Kenny, Georgia and Brenda are more than our guests. I expect you to treat them as part of our family."

"Mama, I don't want to make you feel bad, but I really don't want to have to put up with Brenda at all. Since it's only going to be a few days, maybe I can go stay over at Uncle Bunny's, just so we don't keep having everyone get all upset."

"You'll do no such thing. I'm willing to accept what you've said, that you and Brenda have differences that cannot be overcome. I'm sure that all Brenda wanted was some clarification about what form your relationship was going to take from now on."

"I would prefer we be strangers, but if that isn't an option, I'd want us to just ignore each other. I offered to be on normal terms with her, but Brenda doesn't want to accept that. She seems to want to have things go back to how they were. They never will, and, if she doesn't accept that, I don't want her anywhere around me."

"Brenda, given all that has transpired, dear, Kenny's request seems reasonable to me. It was you that fouled the nest, after all, and you have to accept the results of those actions. I did promise him that I'd accept his decision regarding any future the two of you might have together."

"I told him I was sorry. I told him it wouldn't ever happen again. All I want is one more chance."

"Brenda, you aren't a child, and I refuse to allow you to put forth a child's argument, or plea for further consideration from him. You betrayed Kenny's trust with two different boys, at least with two that you've admitted to. He forgave you for the first one. What you have done isn't some minor infraction. You made a choice, and because of that, Kenny now gets to make his own choice. He's made it abundantly clear what his choice is. None of this should have happened, but it did. You need to accept it and just live with it, and you need to start doing so right now." There was steel in Mama's words, and for the first time, I think Brenda realized there weren't going to be any further chances, at least none with me. "Georgia, I'm telling you exactly the same thing. You've spent too many years now, playing one side off against the other. Patch things up with Walt, or divorce him. What you did this morning was inexcusable. It was something only a crazy person would even contemplate. You've had a long run with this little juggling act you had going. It's time now for you to be an adult, you need to let Bunny go."

I waited to see if either Brenda or her mother were going to say anything further, but neither of them spoke. When we got to the house, I opened my trunk, and pulled out both bags. I carried both of them into the house, and up the stairs to my room. I gathered together all the things I'd need for the week, and put them into my own suitcase, carrying them downstairs into Bea's old room. I looked around in that room, and knew I wouldn't miss my room that much, not as long as it was only temporary.

I was wondering how Jane and Grace were going to take to having Brenda and Mrs. Connor staying with us. I didn't have that long to wonder. We had been there no more than fifteen minutes when Jane came downstairs, looking for me.

"I thought you were kidding, Kenny. They're moving into your room?"

"Just until they get their own house. Mama says a few days. I'm leaving to go back to school in a little more than two weeks. When are you guys moving to your place in Bolling?"

"We were going to start moving in gradually, starting around August tenth. We might have to move that time up now, if Brenda's going to be here. Can you ask your mother the earliest we can have the apartment? It would be easier to drive here from Bolling every morning, than to live here and have to worry about Brenda being so close."

"You aren't really worried are you? I mean, I know you love Grace. Brenda could never be anything like what you have with Grace."

"Kenny, temptation doesn't know anything about love. It isn't even that I'm so worried that I'd give in to it. It's Grace, and how worried she'd be. She knows how tempted I'd be, and she knows I'm not like she is. If something did happen, it would mean a lot more to her. It would end it for us. She wouldn't be able to sit still, or to trust that nothing would happen. I know her, and she'd do something, just because she couldn't stand to wait and see."

"Mrs. Connor and Brenda are family. Mama won't do anything to send them away. I'll talk to her for you though, and explain the problem. I'm sure she can do something to make this easier on you and Grace. Don't worry. Does Grace know yet?"

"Oh yeah. She knows. She saw them in the hallway, when they were first coming up the stairs. She came back inside the room and threw the deadbolt. She almost didn't let me come downstairs to find you." Jane was giggling. I'm pretty sure she was enjoying having the shoe be on the other foot for awhile. I could understand how that would feel to her, after having watched Grace flirt with other people quite a few times. Mostly, it was just that Grace had an outgoing and outrageous personality, and her flirting was an extension of this, and of her sense of humor. She liked to shock people. She loved Jane though.

At two o'clock, as if things weren't already complicated enough, Uncle Bunny showed up at the house and went upstairs to see Mrs. Connor. Brenda came downstairs about three minutes after Mrs. Connor had let Uncle Bunny into my room. She looked confused by what was happening.

"Why is he here, and why did they make me come down here?" I wanted to say something to her that would have been me being cruel and vindictive. I wanted to say something like 'your mother and father need to have a talk together'. Instead, I told her that Uncle Bunny was a lawyer, and they were having a legal discussion about some things. Mama had come hurrying over as soon as she heard Brenda's question. In the car, I'd been surprised when Mama had made those references to Georgia's mother and letting Uncle Bunny go. Brenda hadn't said anything, and I hadn't noticed any reaction from her about what Mama had said. "Are you going to stay mad at me, Kenny, even if I stop trying to be your girlfriend?" This was another one of those questions that I wasn't prepared for. It wasn't that simple for me to answer her. There wasn't even any one correct answer to it. I resented her being here. I was still hurt by the things I'd learned about her, but it was because I cared for her. If I stopped caring, I'd probably stop hurting, enough so I could quit being angry at her.

"Brenda, I want to stop being mad at you. If you stop going after me, that will help. I feel like you got me to drop my guard under false pretenses, like you lied to me to convince me it was all right for me to love you. If I'd known what you were doing with Gary, I never would have allowed myself to feel so much, or to be hurt so bad. You think it shouldn't matter, because it wasn't that big a deal for you, but, that's one of the reasons why it matters so much to me. It's because you did that, when it wasn't even important to you. You really hurt me a lot, and you didn't even care what it meant to me. That makes it worse."

"I already feel bad enough, Kenny. Whatever I do, you always make it seem it was done just so I could make you feel bad. When I did those things with Gary, I wasn't even thinking about you. I told you it was to keep Emily from bothering me all the time."

I had forgotten all about Mama being there. I think Brenda had too. There was a loud crack as Mama's open palm connected with Brenda's face. Brenda screamed. A long, loud, piercing scream, partly out of the surprise of it, and partly, from the pain. It was penetrating enough that Dad came out of his study right afterwards, and Mrs. Connor and Uncle Bunny came out also. Grace and Jane came out too, but they stayed upstairs, while Uncle Bunny and Mrs. Connor came hurrying towards Brenda. Mrs. Connor came over to Brenda and put her arms around her, trying to give comfort. Already Brenda's left cheek was red, and there was a welt on it, shaped like a hand print. Mrs. Connor looked at me with hate filled eyes. She thought it was me that hit her daughter. Brenda wasn't able to say anything, she was in a full blown wailing mode. Even Uncle Bunny was looking at me with disappointment that I'd do such a thing.

"Georgia, this little tramp of yours has no idea of why there needs to be consequences for her actions. She stood right here, and she as much as told Kenny that she knows she broke his heart, but because she did it without thinking about him, he shouldn't be angry with her. I slapped her, and if you don't take her away somewhere, out of my sight, I'm going to strangle her."

"You have no right!" Mrs. Connor had turned to Mama and she was directing her anger at her. Mama hauled off and slapped her, just as hard as she'd slapped Brenda. I'd never seen her do anything like this before. I wondered if it wasn't connected with her depression somehow. Mrs. Connor had shut up, just as soon as Mama's hand connected to her face.

"You could have killed either of them, Georgia, do you realize that? I've stood by all these years, and I haven't interfered. I always thought you'd make a choice, sooner or later, but you wanted both of them. Why settle for just one, right? You're as bad as she is. She at least has the excuse that she's young. You have no excuse, Georgia. Another thing, don't you ever dare to speak to me about what my rights are either. Ken Dyer will be reading you your rights, in about ten minutes, if you don't shut up and listen to what I'm telling you. You are to leave Bunny alone, and I mean completely alone. No more phone calls, no more shopping trips. Enough is enough. Go back to Walt, or else divorce him, I don't care which. If you decide on a divorce, I'll see to it that Bunny will settle a sum of money on you, and on Brenda as well. Enough for the two of you to live comfortably. If you decide to remain with Walt, we'll continue to support you through our putting business through Walt's company. All your life, you've wanted all the perks and privileges of having wealth, but none of the responsibilities that go hand in hand with it. Today, we've all learned what comes from having that attitude."

"You can't tell me what to do, and you certainly can't hit me." Mrs. Connor said this while hiding behind Brenda.

"Shut up, Georgia. I already did hit you, and I certainly can, and will, tell you what to do. I'm not Bunny. I have absolutely no interest in what you have been enticing him with for the past thirty five years. You'll do what I tell you to, or I'll ruin you, as thoroughly and completely as my father ruined the man who thought he was your father. I'll have you living on welfare, and taking in laundry, just to make ends meet. You might think you can still control Bunny, through his penis, but I know better. We're twins, he and I, but he's the soft side, and I'm the hard side. I've always known that, he knows that too, and now, finally, you do as well. You can try to oppose me if you want to, but, I can guarantee you, when it comes down to who wants their way more, I'm the most ruthless of the three of us."

"Bertie, there's no need for threats or violence. I've already explained to Georgia."

"Shut up, Bunny! I've heard you explain to her twenty times before, but nothing ever changes when you explain things. Thomas, will you cut off all buying from Walt's company if I ask you to?"

"Sure, Bertie, but do at least try not to make it necessary."

"Bunny, I've made up my mind about this. Are you going to side with her, and oppose me on this?" Uncle Bunny looked miserable, but finally, he spoke up.

"No."

"Georgia, do you believe me when I tell you that I'll call Ken Dyer, and have you arrested for shooting Elizabeth? Do you want to spend the next five years in prison, just so I can prove to you how serious I am about all of this?" Brenda put her hand over her mouth when Mama said that about calling Ken Dyer, and about Elizabeth having been shot. "Brenda, I slapped you partly to try to wake you up to the fact that you aren't the only person in this world that matters. In the past few months you've gotten pretty far away from the path that your mother and I had chosen for you. It's too late for you with Kenny now, but it isn't too late for someone else. If you continue with this self indulgent attitude of yours though, it soon will be. Your beauty is a commodity, and so far, you've been selling it far too cheaply. You've acted like a slut lately. Is that your ambition in life? If it is, tell me now, and we can all revise our plans for you." Brenda started in crying again after Mama said that to her. Mrs. Connor cringed, as if she'd been slapped again, but she never stopped holding Brenda. I looked up to the top of the staircase, and Jane and Grace were still there, watching and listening to everything being said.

When Mama stepped closer to Brenda and opened her arms in welcome, Brenda immediately escaped her mother's hold, and hurried into Mama's embrace. I noticed the frown on Mrs. Connor's face, but, by now, she knew she was in no position to object. There was only going to be one boss now, between Uncle Bunny, Mrs. Connor, and Mama, and that boss was Mama. Uncle Bunny didn't look unhappy about that, but Mrs. Connor sure did. Brenda, with her seemingly unerring sense of what was best for her, had come over to the winning side. There was one thing I was sure of, and that was that no one, and that included Mama, would ever get me to submit to them like that. Mama looked over at me and she smiled. I wondered, just for an instant, if there was any way she could know what I'd been thinking. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

With everything settled, I looked at my watch, and it was only three o'clock. I looked up at Grace and Jane. They hadn't left their position at the top of the stairs. I called up to them.

"You guys want to go hit some balls? Don't forget you promised to teach me about how to hook, and a better way to chip, Jane." Seeing that the fireworks had ended, Jane and Grace came down the steps, and Uncle Bunny asked if he could join us. We left the house, Jane and Grace traveling together, and me riding with Uncle Bunny.

"Boy, Mama really let go, didn't she?"

"It needed to be done, Kenny. God knows I didn't have the stomach for it." I leaned over and gave his big paunch a friendly pat.

"Now don't go selling yourself short, Uncle Bunny. How's Elizabeth, and where is she?"

"She's over at her mother's house for now, visiting, Mr. Weisenheimer. Try not to take everything Bertie said today as the Gospel, Kenny. I cede sovereignty to her only in this one matter of the heart. This situation with Georgia had grown into something intolerable. I'm happy to turn all of it over to Bertie's control and direction." I sensed that Uncle Bunny was worried that what I heard would cause me to think less of him. Actually, it increased my respect for him, because he was willing to let someone do what needed to be done. Before, he'd just gone along with Mrs. Connor, doing what she asked him to, because it was easier than doing what had taken place today.

"Mama is the toughest of the three of you, Uncle Bunny, but you're the nicest. She'll do what needs to be done. You were right to let her take it over. Brenda needs someone strong to straighten her out, You and Mrs. Connor weren't doing that."

"That's what I thought too, Kenny. Brenda is at a pivotal juncture in her path to adulthood. It was sadly obvious that she was making some very poor choices. I'm none too proud of the part I've played in shaping her value system. I've been too permissive with both of them, indulging Georgia because of all her insecurities. Sadly, I've been the sponsor of far too many of their extravagances. Providing things that she might have better been left unexposed to."

"Well, Brenda might have turned out to be spoiled, selfish, and conceited, but she sure looks good."

"There is that, I suppose. I'd trade a little of that beauty, to get her to show some concern and compassion for other people, anyone other than herself. Now that I've had a chance to be exposed to her core belief system, I shudder to think of what she might very well end up becoming. She's been exposed to her mother's view of the world. A view I have helped to skew, I'm afraid."

"If anyone can straighten her out, I'll bet it's Mama. Did you see their faces after Mama slapped them? Those are going to leave marks, even after today."

"That was regrettable. Bertie has always had a temper. Tommy has this theory that her temper is what taught me how to get along well with so many people. She usually turns it inward, against herself. Seldom have I seen her strike anyone, and never two people in such a short span of time. This isn't the first time she's struck Georgia though. When Georgia first decided her future was with Walt, Bertie went over to her home, and caused quite a scene. The servants had to be called in to separate the two of them. They didn't speak for more than a year after that. I wonder if today's events reminded Georgia of that long ago confrontation?"

We got to the club and went over to the practice range. Jane showed me how to hook the ball more, and Grace showed me a trick to make it slice, by changing the swing plane a little bit. After about an hour of hitting balls, we all went down to the putting green and I got myself a nice lesson in chipping with the less lofted irons. Jane showed me how to control the amount of roll by using more or less lofted clubs. It was a lot easier to control the direction with a chip than it was with a lob or pitch, and I was happy to have a way to control the roll of the ball. I was expecting to shave at least two strokes a round off all my future scores. When we got home. a little before six o'clock, Brenda and Mrs. Connor had moved out of my room again. Gerta told me, because Mama was up in her room, with a real bad headache, and Dad was in his study. Gerta told me that Mama and Dad had gotten into a big argument, right after he got back from driving the Connor's over to their old house. She said he yelled at Mama, and called her names. One phrase that Gerta remembered was when he had told her she was a manipulating, controlling, bitch. Gerta said that Mama didn't try to slap Dad.

I went to the study and knocked, but Dad yelled out to me that he wanted to be left alone. I went upstairs to Mama's room and went inside. She was on her bed, with a damp washcloth covering her face. I sat on the bed and took her hand in both of mine. She used her free hand to lower the washcloth to see who it was.

"Kenny. Have you come here to yell at me too?"

"No, Mama. I'm not mad at you. Thank you for sticking up for me today."

"I shouldn't have slapped them like that, but neither of them cares a fig about the consequences of their actions. They just don't think."

"They'll get over it, and so will Dad. He doesn't understand that you only slapped them because you love them, and want them to do better."

"Is that what you think it was?"

"That's what I think. If you didn't love Mrs. Connor, you'd have called the police. If you didn't love Brenda, you wouldn't care that she's throwing her life away. Uncle Bunny knows you love him already, but you still had to say something to let him know that he hadn't done what he was supposed to do."

"Your father hates what I did."

"Maybe he didn't like it when you slapped them and read them the riot act, but he did support you when you asked him about cutting off Mr. Connor's company. If he hadn't supported you, that would be different. Uncle Bunny knows it was necessary, that you take over with Brenda. He supports you too."

"What about you, Kenny?"

"Me too. I might not understand everything, especially Uncle Bunny and Mrs. Connor, but I know you love them and want what's best for them."

"I knew today, when she said that to you, that you had been right about her. That's when I finally knew that she wouldn't ever be right for you. It broke my heart when I heard her say something like that. I had such hope for her. I wanted so badly for her to turn out well. She seemed like the best of all of us, but in the end, she's only another pretty face, just like her mother."

"That's how she is now, Mama, but she's still a very young girl. You can change her, help her to understand that there's more to living than looking pretty, and having people get all excited about only that one little part of who you are. You've changed me, and I bet I'm a lot harder to change than Brenda would be."

Mama sat up in bed a little. The damp cloth forgotten in her free hand. She tried to smile, but I could tell by the effort, that her head was still hurting her a lot.

"You've changed me, Kenny. You've changed your father too, and even Bunny. I think that none of us have changed you, because you've been doing so well at changing us."

"No, I'm the one that's been changed the most of all. When I first came here, there was a part of me that didn't work at all, because I never let myself use it. It happened that very first day, when you and Bea came out to meet me. It was in that first minute, right when Uncle Bunny brought me here for the first time in his car. As soon as I got out of the car to meet you, you came up and gave me one of your really strong hugs. It was hard, and I wasn't used to getting any hugs like that. I knew, just from that first hug you gave me, that you were honestly happy to have me here. I think you were the first person that ever was. That's when I first started to feel things. Not the touch things, but the other kind. Emotional feelings. Right from the first time you did that, I knew I'd been missing something important, and I wanted to have a lot more of it."

"I appreciate you telling me this Kenny, and I was happy to see you, happier than I'd been about anything else, for a long time. I seem to remember that you and I had our share of problems after that first meeting though."

"We did, and that's the way I discovered how much you've changed me. When I left this last time, after the big trouble with Brenda, I tried to turn myself back to the same way I was at St. Cecelia's. I really tried, but I wasn't able to. It's like a river, these feelings, once they get started, there's nothing you can do to make them stop flowing. When I was out that night, walking to my school, I built up all my usual walls, the ones I always used to keep built there, inside my head, but the love that was already inside me, it just swept right through those walls. At first I was afraid, and then I was disappointed. I felt like I'd lost the one place where I always knew I could go when I needed to be safe. Later, after I had a chance to think about it, I changed my mind. The only way I had ever been able to feel safe before is when I made myself be all alone. If people love you, you're never going to be alone, not completely. I'd rather be loved by someone, and have someone to love, than to ever be safe and all alone. That was how you changed me Mama. You can teach Brenda too. Teach her to love someone other than herself. All her mother ever taught her was to love herself, and you can't really love yourself, not unless you love other people too."

Mama hugged me to her. She was crying, but it wasn't the bad kind, the kind that came when her depressions first started. I recognized this kind of crying. It was the kind of crying you did when you find out that someone you love a lot, loves you back just as much, and maybe more. It must have helped her headache too, maybe cleared out her sinuses, because after a few minutes, she shooed me away, so that she could wash and get dressed for dinner.

 Edited by: G. Clement (thanks George)



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Chapter 28

Somehow, Mama got the idea I was working too hard, and that I hadn't been able to enjoy my vacation from school. Each time she brought it up, I'd tell her I was having a good time, and that I was learning a lot from going to work with Dad. I was busy though.

Uncle Bunny took me to Bolling to get my permit to begin learning to drive. The written test was easy, even though I'd only been able to look it over for about two hours before I took the test. Uncle Bunny took me to a farm road, and gave me my first driving lesson. If you can stay on a cart path with a golf cart, you can stay on a road with a car. I had some trouble not pushing down on the brakes too hard, and learning how much gas to give it when I was trying to accelerate. Uncle Bunny took me to lunch, and filled me in on all he had done for the Coulter's. After lunch, we drove by their house, and I could already see a tremendous improvement to the way the house looked from the outside. The house had been painted, new screens were put on all the windows, the front screen door had been replaced with a new one, and it looked like someone had come in and redid the whole front yard. It didn't look like some abandoned, weather beaten derelict home anymore. When I asked him how much it had cost so far, he told me not to worry about it.

Uncle Bunny told me that Mama had decided to send Brenda away to a girl's school, in Ohio, for her sophomore year. He said it was a very strict school, one that spent as much time delivering behavioral and psychological therapy to its students as it spent on the academic curriculum. Mama wanted to undo Brenda's conditioning from her mother, and to have her find out things about herself that she could value, in addition to her looks. Mr. Connor had refused to permit it until Mama went and had a talk with him First, she revealed some of Brenda's behavior, behavior that he had previously been unaware of. He still resisted sending her, right up until Mama explained that she was going to be paying all of Brenda's school and living expenses. Brenda put up some resistance of her own, but only until Mama threatened to wash her hands of her, and to abandon her whole family, if she didn't change her mind and agree to go away. It was when Mama told her that most of the other girls at this school came from wealthy families, and that some of them certainly had brothers back at home, that Brenda decided to give it a try.

At work, things were going well for me. The three John's in maintenance did a wonderful job converting Miss Walters old office into the new phone order room. Instead of putting in a window, so that Edith could see Ellen, they opened the entire front of Miss Walters office, and created a single, very large room. As promised, there were two nice mini refrigerators and a brand new sectional sofa that matched the blue carpet nearly perfectly. There was a television set on an elevated wall stand. I didn't question them about the antenna they said they had up on the roof of the building, but, judging by the number of channels we were getting, and the box that unscrambled programming, that came with the TV, I had to guess it was either a satellite system, or some kind of a cable feed.

Ellen and Edith loved everything that had been done, and they also loved Myra and Linda, the two new phone workers that they were training. The new girls were brought in to take over some of the workload that Edith and Ellen had been handling by themselves. Myra was about thirty years old, a new hire, and she was a real talker. Almost nonstop, unless she was on the phones, taking an order.

Linda was in her mid to late forties, and had transferred from the bakery production line. She said her feet hurt her on the line, from standing all day. The fact that she was about one hundred pounds overweight might have had something to do with her feet hurting too. All four of them seemed to get along well. The new room looked so nice, that the three John's told me they needed to renovate the old phone room also. I suspected that the hundred dollar bill I donated to the maintenance department's entertainment fund encouraged them to make sure everyone was happy. When one of the John's showed more than a passing interest in Edith, I found out his real name was Earl, and that the only one whose name really was John, was the one I'd been dealing with, for Miss Walters new office.

After two weeks, it was apparent that our new policy of not having the route drivers assist in the loading of their own trucks was a big success. All of the route drivers worked for a base salary, and commission paid based on gross sales. Before the changed procedure for loading, commissions hadn't been a meaningful component of their total pay. Now, the commissions for some of the drivers was greater than half their base salary. For that kind of money, it was worth it to them to try to increase their sales. Most of them had started making sales calls on the smaller stores within their territory. None of the smaller accounts, individually, accounted for much sales volume, but, collectively, they were enough to make a serious impact on a driver's commission checks. For the first full week after the transition, route sales were up over twenty eight per cent.

Dad and I flew to Chicago to look at two buildings that David and Craig had found for their new vending machine fabrication and assembling plant. One was offered for a long term lease, and the other was offered for sale. The one for sale was larger, and had easier access to major highways. It was also a newer building, and in better condition as far as regular maintenance was concerned. Dad phoned Uncle Bunny and asked him to contact the broker listing the property for sale and try to negotiate the purchase at a better price than they were asking.

As far as equipment went, David and Craig both wanted to pick up good used equipment. Right then, a lot of small sheet metal and steel fabricators were going out of business. High interest rates had strangled many under capitalized businesses, and there was a real buyer's market for barely used equipment.

The good news was that they were able to buy a lot of nearly new equipment, all for less than half of what it had originally sold for new. The bad news was that they wanted to purchase quite a bit more of it than Dad had initially budgeted for, even at those fantastic prices. When Craig explained to Dad that they were buying not just for current needs, but for future growth and expansion, and that they had never seen so much good equipment selling so cheaply, Dad authorized them to buy what they had indicated they wanted and could use. Even that wasn't enough. Two days later, Craig called Uncle Bunny with what he claimed was a once in a lifetime opportunity to buy up the contents of an entire state of the art machine shop, for less than ten cents on the dollar, from the bank that had foreclosed. Uncle Bunny wired the funds into their equipment acquisition account.

That next Friday, we flew up to Omaha to spend the day with Rob and Virginia. Dad had decided that the only way he could really find out for sure how Virginia would handle the responsibility for running the Lucas Company, was to put her in charge and watch how she operated. He called it a test under fire. We had a muted celebration, going out to lunch with them. Rob seemed happy that Virginia was going to really get her chance, and a little wistful that, with this appointment, he had slipped another spot down in the company's chain of command. Dad didn't give him any time to dwell on that though, as he passed over a twenty three page outline, one that enunciated exactly what Dad expected Rob to get accomplished in the following six month period. Rob quickly looked the outline over, and then he and Dad started discussing what assets Rob would have to work with in attempting to meet these ambitious goals.

That's when Dad told him about Ron Jones, and explained that Ron would be the in-house sales manager, in charge of hiring and training the new outside salesmen. Dad quickly explained that he was interested in freeing Rob up to concentrate strictly on opening new outlets for the vending machines, as well as setting up a system for servicing whatever machines were installed. I knew that Dad had been concerned with how Rob would take the news. It seemed to me that a good part of his job was being taken over by Mr. Jones. He didn't seem upset at all, in fact, he only asked two questions.

"Who do I report to? Who does this Jones fellow report to?"

"You still will only be reporting to me. Of course, you'll be coordinating all your manpower requirements through Ron. Ron will be reporting to both of us, but he is a well trained professional at hiring and training sales forces. You tell him what you want, and his job its to go out and get the people you need, and to train them so they are capable, and ready to handle a sales territory for you. Once the sales force is in place, all salesmen are strictly under your control."

"I like it. I never liked sitting around the office. I'd much rather be out there, opening new locations and checking on the rest of the sales force."

"I figured that's where you'd be the most valuable to us, Rob. I don't want you getting bogged down in anything that takes away from us opening new locations as rapidly as we have machines to put in them. We won't have that long before the competition for locations gets fierce. I want another six thousand of our machines, in place and operating, within the next thirty six months. We need to get it done, and I won't be very willing to accept any excuses, not after all the expense I'm currently underwriting to make sure you have the necessary equipment and sales product to do this."

"You get me the machines, I'll make the new openings for them. Speaking of machines, Jim Tanner has been calling me for the past week. He wants to build us three hundred new machines at $550.00 each. He says that's all he can make now that the boys have quit. I gather that his son and son in law decided to not hire three of his workers. I told him I'd need to check with you about it. I've known him, and done good business with both him and his late brother, Leon, for the better part of twenty five years. I don't know what happened over there at his plant, when you went to visit him, but, if you can afford for us to do it, I'd really like to get those machines from him."

"Call him up and make the deal. I want all of it in writing, giving us the absolute right to reject any machine that's not up to his previous specs. Hell, tell him we'll take all he can build us for the next three years at that price. I didn't go over there wanting to start any trouble with him or his family. What happened had been brewing for a long while. If it hadn't been us, it would have been someone else that set those two boys up in business. They were ready to make their move."

"Good. That makes me feel a lot better then. The fact that you'd do more business with Jim like this, it goes a long way with me. It tells me that I was right about you when I agreed to sell. Nothing you've done since you bought me out was one whit less than you said you'd do. I appreciate that. Virginia told me that you'd give her a chance too. You won't regret it. Nobody knows this company better than my Ginny."

We said our goodbyes at the restaurant. Dad needed to get back to Bolling, before three, for a meeting he had with one of the restaurant supply executives he was interviewing. We made it back to his office with ten minutes to spare. I didn't really have much to do, or much time to do it in, so I decided to walk around and check with most of the people I knew. I went to maintenance first, and spoke with the two John's that were there. I had spent half an hour with the girls in the phone room, ten minutes of it being embarrassed by the things all four of them were saying to me about how they thought the reason I'd come back to see them was to give the sectional a workout with one of them. They referred to it as the 'honeymoon suite'. I told them I didn't have the time then, but I'd be back later, and they could hold a raffle to see which one of them got me. After I left, I hoped that they knew I'd only been kidding. I saw Ellen and Edith cutting a piece of paper into four squares when I went out the door.

At four, I knocked on Miss Walters office door. After I was inside her office, I asked her if everything was all right, or if she needed anything else.

"I hate to ask you for anything more, Kenny, but the nearest break room is upstairs, over near accounting. It wouldn't do for me to become too familiar with the people I'm responsible for auditing. I do like my coffee though. Would it be all right if I brought my own coffee maker in and brewed some in the office? I asked for permission before, when I was in my other office, but they said it would be a fire hazard. I'd be careful, and I'd never leave the pot on when I went home. I'm very methodical."

I knew my Dad's secretary brewed coffee in her office, and Edith and Ellen always had a coffee pot going in the new phone room. I asked Miss Walters if I could borrow her phone to check for her. I had Myra transfer my call over to maintenance.

"Maintenance, John."

"John, this is Kenny. Is there any reason why Miss Walters can't brew her own coffee in her office?"

"Do you want her to be able to, or is she just being a pain in the ass again?"

"I want her to be able to. The nearest break room isn't convenient for her."

"I'll need to come up and make a safety modification for her. Where is she planning on putting the coffee maker, and how many cup capacity?" I turned and asked Miss Walters.

"She said eight cups, and she can put it wherever there's an outlet. There's one behind that little refrigerator you put in here."

"Give me five minutes and I'll come up there to measure."

"Miss Walters, John said he needs to make some safety modifications. He's coming to measure."

"I called maintenance before, and they were the ones who told me it wasn't possible. I'm sure it was someone named John who told me no."

"There's three John's that work in that department. This one is the big boss. He can override the rest of his department."

"He's a department head, then?"

"He is. My dad really relies on him. You might say that he has Dad's ear when it comes to doing almost anything involved with this whole plant."

"Really? I wish I'd known this when I was sending all of those memos through accounting, about my office being unsatisfactory."

"John was the main one who took care of this for you. When he wants something to get done, it does."

Just then we were interrupted by the youngest John. He was about thirty five or so. I hadn't talked much to him. He was the quietest of the three.

"Miss Walters, this is John, the head man of the maintenance department. John do you know Miss Walters?"

"Sure, I moved most of her things up here, and I worked over the build out ticket for the new place here. Where did you say you wanted this coffee maker?" Miss Walters and I both pointed at the mini refrigerator. John walked over and placed a twenty four inch by about twenty inch steel plate about an eighth of an inch thick on the top of the refrigerator. He looked behind the refrigerator at the outlet. I saw him take out a small spiral notebook and make a notation on it.

"All set. Go ahead and bring it in, and fire it up."

"Really, that's all I needed?"

"Miss Walters, what you just saw is why John runs his department. Every pertinent safety code is already lodged in his memory. He always knows exactly what's needed to be in compliance. That's why he's able to address your concerns so speedily. If it had been one of the other John's, it probably couldn't have been done."

"Well, that's good to know. I will certainly keep that in mind in the future. Thank you, John. May I ask your last name so I can put you in my Rolodex?"

"Just ask for Stewie. Any of my men will know that you want me." That's how I found out the third name of the three John's. Stewart, Earl, and John. I left the office with Stewie, listening to Miss Walters praise us both for solving her break room problem.

"You learn quick, kid. You told her I was the one to see, right? Built me up with her? I've been here for six years, and always wanted to make a run at her. Couldn't ever see any opening, because she treated all of us like crap. It's different now, now that she's seen how handy we can be to her. She wouldn't ever lower herself for a regular maintenance guy, but, what did you say I was? Oh yeah, the guy who runs my department. Now I have a shot with her. I'll let you know if it pans out. She can be a real pain in the ass, and what a ball buster, but did you see those milk factories? Do you think she'd maybe like her own wall mounted television set?"

I left Stewie to pursue whatever dreams and ambitions he might have with Miss Walters. I already knew that each of the John's had places in the building where they pretended that they were the head maintenance person. What I'd done with Miss Walters, was to bypass the middleman, in this case me, and go directly to the source for all future requests. Earl was already dating Edith, and I knew that the real John was in near constant demand from the ladies on the floor of the production lines. He was always being called in to cut and fit some repair on the rubber mats that covered the floor down there. I was almost positive that each of them had a special, private, place where they could take someone to discuss complex maintenance projects. All three were really knowledgeable, and they did excellent work, in a very timely manner. I'd never heard anyone complaining about them as far as delaying any needed work.

Back home by five thirty that Friday night, I ran to the phone and called Shirley. We had spoken on the phone during the week, but I hadn't seen her since the night of my birthday. I'd been thinking about her though, and I wanted to see her in the worst way. I missed just seeing her. Mama and Dad were going out with Uncle Bunny and Elizabeth. They had tickets to some play being put on in Bolling. It was one of those benefit performances to support the drama department at the college. Dad had bought a lot of tickets through the company, and had passed them out among the employees. I had been invited too, as had Jane and Grace and Hans and Gerta. All of us had refused. Dad didn't want to go either, but he felt like he had to attend, to make an appearance for the sake of all the people at the company who would be there at his urging. Mr. And Mrs. Jones were going also, as a new employee of the company, Dad thought this would be a good way for Mr. Jones to meet some of the other executives, in a non business setting. The six of them would be riding in the limo together, plus Gerta would be riding up front with Hans. They were planning on visiting with the Kleinsmiths while the play and the after play party were going on. I had already arranged with Jane to drive me over to pick Shirley up, and then take us somewhere, if Shirley was able to go out with me. We'd be going in my new car, the one I was only barely able to drive at all yet.

"Hi Shirley, I'm home. Did you ask your folks yet about what I asked you?"

"I didn't exactly ask them, Kenny. I told my mother I might go out tonight, with some friends. She didn't ask me who. I have to be home by eleven thirty though."

"Mama said they'd be leaving at six fifteen to pick up Uncle Bunny and Elizabeth, then they're coming over to pick up your parents. Uncle Bunny is always running late, so they probably won't get to your house before six forty five. Why don't you call me when they get to your house, and I'll get Jane to drive me over to pick you up?"

"Okay. You want me to call you when they park, or wait until they come inside?"

"I don't know. We can get to your house in five minutes from here. Maybe you should wait until they all leave before calling. Did you think of anything you want to do? The last movie starts at eight o'clock."

"Do we have to go out? I thought we could go to your house, and maybe watch some TV or something. I haven't seen you since last Friday."

"We could do that. I'd like to, but Grace and Jane will be here too."

"Will they be in your bedroom, watching TV with us?"

"You want to watch some TV in my room?"

"You have a TV there, I saw it. Doesn't it work?"

"Shirley, I'd love to have you come over here, and we could watch TV, or do anything else you'd like to do, but, if we're alone in my room, there's a good chance that I might get carried away with you."

"So? I thought we already settled this, Kenny? Don't you want to anymore?"

"No, I mean I do want to, but what I meant was we didn't actually settle it. We spoke about it, and we both said we wanted to, but, do you mean tonight? Tonight's fine with me, but, only if you're sure. I don't want you thinking we have to do that right now, not if you'd rather wait."

"Kenny, you sound more nervous than I am. I already decided, I told you. Mom measured me on Wednesday, did I tell you? I'm officially a six footer now. Six feet and one quarter inch. At the rate I'm growing, I'll have to kneel down to give you a kiss soon."

"Even if you grew to be a seven footer, Shirley, I'd still like you, and want to do things with you. Are you sure about coming over here tonight? Suppose you hate it? I really like you a lot, but I don't think we should do it if you're only afraid you'll get too tall for boys to want to have sex with you."

"Kenny, I like you too, and that's why I want it to be with you. I'm ready. I've done all the thinking about it I need to. Tonight, in your room. I want to be with you the same way Brenda was. I want you to make love to me. My mother told me that was how she was sure that Daddy was the one for her. She said they fit together perfectly. I think we fit together, but there's only one way to be sure if it's a perfect fit or not."

I was convinced, and I told her so. She hadn't tried to make it sound like it was something she wanted to do for me, or told me that she loved me. She liked me, and she wanted to see how we were together. I felt the same way. I'd been thinking about how it would be, and when it might come. I'd heard people talking about something called casual sex. That wasn't what this would be. I wasn't feeling casual about the prospect of having Shirley on my bed, making love with me. Casual sex was what I'd done with Bea. It's what Claudia did with a lot of guys. Maybe it was what Brenda had done with Darryl and Gary. What she and I had done certainly wasn't casual sex to me. There was only one thing that really scared me about making love with Shirley, and that was what would happen if it wasn't anything like as good as it had been for me with Brenda. If it wasn't, would I be able to hide my disappointment? Suppose she thought it was a perfect fit, and I didn't? Or I did and she didn't? Should I go in my bathroom and play with myself to get rid of my nervousness? I'd hate it if I came too soon, before she had a chance to really get warmed up.

I was still trying to decide whether I should do that or not, at six thirty, when Shirley called me to tell me my parents had picked up hers. I cursed my luck that Uncle Bunny would pick this day to be the one day that he was ready to go somewhere on time. I told her we'd come get her in five minutes, and then ran to Jane and Grace's room to get Jane. We got to Shirley's house in five minutes, just like I'd said. Shirley was already outside, waiting on her porch. I opened the door, figuring she'd just jump in the back seat. I was going to go back there with her, but she got in and slid over to the middle, she was sitting on part of the driver's seat and part of the passenger seat. Her feet were over on the passenger side, where mine would fit. It was only for five minutes, so I got in too, and then she gave me a kiss. Just from that one kiss, I could tell that she really meant it when she said she was ready. In an instant, all my doubts dissolved. I knew it was going to be good. Maybe not perfect, not right away, but it was going to be good, and something both of us would always remember. As soon as we got to the house, we both hopped out of my car and thanked Jane for the ride. I reminded Jane that Shirley needed to be home by eleven thirty. She told me she'd be in her room with Grace, watching television too. When she said that, she laughed, and Shirley and I both started blushing.

It would be nice if I could tell you about how slow and carefully I led us to the point where we made love. About how I brought her to a climax five times with my tongue before I ever entered her, and then I lasted for forty minutes when we finally started really making love together. It would be very nice. It would also be a crock of it. We were both ready. I closed and locked my bedroom door as soon as we were both inside. She lifted up her dress bottom, and pulled her panties down, stepping out of them. I undid my belt, put the button through the button hole, unzipped, and dropped my pants down around my ankles. I pulled my underpants down, so they sat right on top of my slacks. She sat down on the bed and leaned back, raising her legs up. I saw my target, clearly outlined by a marvelous fringe of long, dark, silky, brown pubic hairs. I leaned in, set myself at her entrance and pushed forward. Seven seconds later, maybe less, I was finished. I'd forgotten some of the frills. Frills like any kind of foreplay, a rubber, talking, asking her if she was ready. I had forgotten everything that wasn't totally instinctual.

It was at least five minutes before I got up the nerve to lift myself up and look at Shirley. That just had to rank right up there with the worst sexual performances of all time. It had been great for me though. As bad as it might have been for her, and as pathetic a performance as it might have been, I felt like I had discovered a new type of happiness narcotic. I was satisfied, and that was the most embarrassing part of the whole thing. When I did raise up and forced my eyes to finally look at her, instead of scratching my eyes out in anger and disappointment, which is what I expected and deserved, she threw her arms around me, and brought my face to hers.

"Can we do that again? It was just like I hoped it would be, except I thought it would take longer."

"You liked it?"

"I loved it. It was like my mother's romance novels. I told you I was ready. You're big too, and you hit something at the back that hurt a little bit, like you were compressing it or something. When can you do it again?"

"I came inside you."

"I know. I could feel it when you did. It felt good too."

"Are you on the pill or something?"

"Are you crazy? No I'm not on the pill. I forgot about that."

"When are you due for another period?"

"I'm not sure. Probably soon though. I'm not very regular though. I started spotting last night, but it might be another day, maybe two before I get my real flow. Is that bad? I won't get pregnant this first time, right? I mean, I heard you can't get pregnant the first time."

"I think you can. If your period is almost here though, that's a pretty safe time. We should use a condom though, just to be sure. I'm sorry, I should have been thinking about stuff like that. It's just when you did that with your dress and panties, all I could think of was to undo my pants and put my dick in you. I'm sorry I didn't last longer too. Usually, I'm not like that. I mean, it just happened faster with you than with anyone else."

"I'm glad then. If it happened faster, doesn't that mean you got excited faster? That's a good sign isn't it?"

"That's a good sign for me, but it might not be a good sign to you. Did you have anything happen at all?"

"I didn't have an orgasm, but I wasn't expecting to. I was too excited and nervous to have one. I have to be really relaxed and then I have to do things just right to have one. It usually takes me about half an hour, and I have to be in the right frame of mind first. Even when everything seems perfect, sometimes I get too sensitive, and have to stop before I have one. It felt good though when you put it in me, except for when it went so deep and hurt me. I don't usually put things in me that deep. Just an inch or two."

"What things?"

"Just things. Things that make my puss feel good."

"That's why you don't have your cherry?"

"That was in the bath, with my fingers, when I was eleven. That was a surprise. I screamed, and my mother came in. I was scared, and crying, but my mother thought it was funny. She told me it was better if I just stayed there in the water, and waited for the hurt to go away. She never said so, but it was the bleeding that she wanted finished too. After that, my baths were a lot more fun, and they took longer. Mom used to kid me that I was a lot cleaner now that I'd discovered a woman's secret."

I looked down, and my hard on had returned. I got up and went over to my dresser and got two rubbers. This time, I really did take my time. I did all those things I wished I had thought to do the first time. It was certainly better for both of us, but, Shirley still didn't cum. She liked me fucking her though. That was what she called it. I was shocked when she first said the word. I had licked her pussy for about fifteen minutes, until she pushed my head away, saying it was too sensitive, and licking it more would make it worse. I was surprised and disappointed in myself. I'd never licked anyone's pussy without them having at least one orgasm. Brenda and Bea had cum when I put my dick in them too. I knew I'd done enough to Shirley to be able to make any of the other three girls I'd been with cum. How come Shirley wouldn't? I remember Brenda telling me that she hadn't cum her first time, the time with Darryl. Maybe that was it. I took some comfort in that thought.

It was only eight thirty when Shirley and I decided to walk over to her house. Shirley said she wanted to walk some, to make sure she could walk normally, so her family wouldn't guess what she'd been doing. I knocked on Jane's door, and told her we had decided to walk to Shirley's house. We went outside, holding hands as we walked. It was less than half a mile over to her house, and we didn't hurry, happy to be talking together as we strolled. Out walking like we were, Shirley seemed less nervous with me, more comfortable and relaxed. We talked about a lot of things, sex, orgasms, masturbation. Somehow, I found myself telling Shirley that of the four girls I'd ever had any real sexual contact with, she was the only one that hadn't had an orgasm.

"They did that every time?"

"I'm pretty sure they did. They said so. Sometimes, there wasn't any doubt. I guess Bea could have been pretending a few times, because she was a professional at sex, but I'm almost positive that Brenda and Emily weren't. I could tell from the way their bodies reacted."

"You think there's something wrong with me then? I guess you must think that, if I'm the only one who didn't? I can. I have, lots of times. It just isn't something I can do when I'm nervous or self conscious. When I get self conscious, my body can't seem to get relaxed. I was worried about how I looked to you, and about what you were thinking of me. I can do it though, really. When we get back to my house, I'll show you."

"I believe you. You don't have to prove anything to me. We'll probably have lots of them after we get more relaxed around each other. You were just nervous this first time, that's all."

"No, I want to show you. If you see how I do it, you'll know what to do next time. Besides, now that we're walking, and I've started to think about what we did, I'm really feeling like I'd like to have one."

We got to her house and she used her house key to let the two of us in. I went to the back of the house, and saw her bedroom for the first time. It wasn't big like mine was. It was about the size of my closet, but it was neat and everything was put away in it's place. I was happy to see that Shirley had a lock on her door too. I didn't want us to be doing anything together, and then have one of her brothers come barging in on us. Having her parents doing that, instead of one of her brothers, that was just too painful for me to even contemplate.

When her door was locked, she took her panties off again. Instead of getting up on her bed right away, she got down on her hands and knees and put her hand under the small opening underneath her clothes dresser. When her hand came out, she had a screwdriver in it. She put the hand back in there and brought out another, and then still another. Getting up, with all three screwdrivers in her hand, Shirley smiled at me, shyly, and went over to her bed. Her bed was a single, and it was barely big enough for her to fit on it comfortably.

"Don't say or do anything, Kenny. Just watch me. Usually, if I'm doing this, I turn out the lights, and turn on my radio. I'll just close my eyes instead. I've done it with the lights on before too. Sometimes, I do it when I'm studying, so I can't turn the lights off then. Watch this."

Shirley took the first screwdriver by the metal part, and started slowly rubbing it up and down across her pussy lips. "I'm hot already from what we did, Kenny. I can tell this isn't going to take very long." She put the handle inside her pussy, an inch or two, no more than that, and then she started spinning the metal part with both her palms, like it was a stick, and she wanted to get some friction, to get a spark and start a fire. She kept doing that, for about five minutes. She stopped then, and took the smaller screwdriver. This time she put it in her mouth, to wet the handle. At first, I thought she was going to put it in her pussy too, with the other one, but she didn't. She pushed it into her butt hole instead. She didn't try to spin this one though. She did go back to spinning the big one. The one that was up in her pussy. Several times, the one that was in her butt would get forced back out, but she'd just stop, put it back in, and then go back to spinning the big one again.

I found myself looking at the third screwdriver, wondering what she was going to do with that one. She didn't do anything. It took her about another five more minutes before she was moving all over the bed, unable to keep her hips from writhing around. All the time this was happening, she kept spinning that screwdriver in her pussy. I noticed she had put it in deeper now, and in addition to spinning it, she was also moving it in and out now. She started grunting and making those noises people do when something feels so good they almost can't stand it. Then she came. From the way she was moving around and her whole body was shaking, it was a good one. She had stopped touching her screwdrivers, staying as still as she could while those final tremors worked there way through her body. I felt my dick pressing tightly against the front of my slacks and underwear. I had once again gotten myself worked up. I hadn't brought any rubbers though, and I wasn't even sure that Shirley would welcome me inside her, even if I had.

"Did you see?"

"Yes, that was really awesome. It looked like you really came hard."

"That was because of what we did together earlier, and because I knew you were here watching me."

"Why do you have three screwdrivers?"

"It's mostly habit, I guess. Sometimes, when my parents are home, I don't want to make too much noise. I bite down on the handle of the other one, so I won't scream out loud or anything. Sometimes though, I like something a little bigger in the back, a little fatter. So I use the other one for that too. I wash them good with soap and hot water after though. Do you think the way I did that means I'm some kind of a strange weirdo?"

"No. I knew that some girls like to use hairbrush handles. Bea liked to put things in her butt too. Mostly fingers and dicks."

"Sometimes I don't put anything in the back. This time though, I wanted to be sure I was going to have an orgasm. It's easier to have one when I do it that way." She got up and found her panties and put them back on. She unlocked her door and disappeared into the bathroom, it was on the other side of the hallway, across from her bedroom door. I guess she was washing up, herself and her tools. When she came back, she got back down on her hands and knees, putting them back in her secret hiding place.

We spent some time kissing after that. I could feel the difference in her passion for our touching right away. It seemed that now, after she'd managed to have an orgasm, her responsiveness to everything had increased. Everywhere I touched her, she let out a delicious little moan and shiver. Her mouth and tongue were hungry for my attention. This was what had been missing before at my house. Now, it was like she couldn't find a way to get as close to me as she wanted to. Her response to my touch was what it had been that first time, out in our garage. It was like she wanted to entwine herself with me now. We must have spent at least an hour, kissing and touching. I used my finger on her clitty to bring her to another, shuddering, climax. Finally, reluctantly, she stood back, putting distance between us, and told me I needed to leave before anyone got back home. She did give me one more torrid kiss, right before she opened her front door, sending me out, alone, into the night. The walk home was one I took very slowly. I had a lot to think about.

Saturday, Shirley and I played golf in a twosome, right ahead of my parents, Uncle Bunny and Mr. Jones. We played a lot faster than they could, quickly opening a two hole gap between us and them. I had a question I couldn't wait to ask her.

"Shirley, that time you came over to my house with your parents, had you already had an orgasm before you came over?"

"I had two. I was in my room, and I was right in the middle when you called and asked me to invite my parents to come over to meet yours. Remember I gave you the other phone number, and told you to call them? That was because I had been doing myself, thinking about you, and the kiss you gave me on the stairs at the club, before Ronnie came to get me. I'd already had one orgasm, and I was getting really close again, I wanted to finish that second one. What made you ask me that?"

"I was thinking about last night, and the difference from when we were in my room, and then after, in yours. After you came, everything changed from how it was before. I'm wondering what would happen if we waited until after you had an orgasm before I made love to you."

"I don't know. Your finger sure felt good when you made me orgasm. It felt better than when I touch myself there. I get so relaxed after. I'm always anxious before, because I never know if I can orgasm or not."

"We have to try that. Maybe you can do that before you come over next time, or else bring your screwdrivers, and do it again on my bed before we really get started."

"I don't think it would work that way. Last night, those things we did at your house, those were what made me want to have an orgasm, later, at my house. When I get to the point where I'm ready to put things inside me, that's because I've already made my body sensitive by touching myself with my fingers. It usually takes me a long time to get to the point where I'm ready to do the things to make myself orgasm."

"How often do you get to that point?"

"It depends. I don't know. Sometimes, I do that three days in a row, and sometimes, I'll go a week or more and not feel like doing anything. When I wake up in the morning though, I can usually tell if I might be wanting to touch myself later. This morning I woke up feeling like that, like I was going to be touching myself. Right now, I could make myself orgasm, if I was home in my room."

My dick was really hard, and I reached over and took her wrist, putting it right over where my dick was. She squeezed it and giggled. I ran my own hand up underneath the skirt she was wearing, and she opened her legs, to invite my touch. We would have done more, except I looked back and saw my parents and Shirley's father waiting on the men's tee box, looking up the fairway at us. We took off then, finishing the sixth hole, and skipping the seventh altogether. If I'd had my drivers license already, I would have driven back to the clubhouse, and then driven off with her somewhere, to experiment with what we were talking about. I think both of us were in just the right mood.

Instead of going off somewhere and experimenting, we played the remainder of our round. We marked ourselves down for pars for the seventh, but the sexual energy we had built up really impacted unfavorably on our golf scores. I had an eighty seven, and Shirley ballooned all the way up to a ninety one. Neither of us cared about our scores. We mostly were talking about when we could get together. We both meant sometime when Shirley was sure she could make herself orgasm pretty easily. On the sixteenth hole, Shirley told me she could have an orgasm in ten minutes, judging by the way her pussy was feeling right then. I looked all around, and seeing no one anywhere I looked, I put my hand back up under her skirt, and made my fingers busy inside her panties. I had two fingers inside her pussy, and Shirley was moving around, trying to get maximum stimulation from this, when I took another finger, and pressed it up against her butt hole. We were doing fine then, everything indicated she was close to cumming, right up until Shirley thought she saw movement off to the side. We stopped, with me pulling my hand out of her panties, and both of us sitting up straight again in the golf cart. It turned out to be somebody's damn dog, out running around in the trees, looking for a rabbit or a squirrel. We were both relieved it was only a dog, but it was too late, the spell had been broken.

After we finished playing, I went to the men's room and washed my hands. We were having lunch at the club, and Shirley's mother and her brothers would be joining us. I felt frustrated, but optimistic. I was sure that Shirley and I were going to find a way to have a very rewarding sex life together. I had been concerned earlier, but I felt we were now definitely on the right track.



-------

Chapter 29

The closer it came to me going away to school again, the less I wanted to do it. I knew the academic program was better at CA, than anything I'd receive in the public school system, a lot more challenging, but I really didn't want to leave home again. There was also the extra month of summer vacation I'd be missing out on by returning to Clement Academy. I balanced all of my reasons for not wanting to go, against one simple fact, that I'd already told my parents that I wanted to remain at Clement Academy. The tuition had been paid by Dad, and it wasn't a small sum of money. I'd gotten all new uniforms, and someone needed to look after Jerry, now that Nigel was no longer there. Terry was going to be a senior, so he'd be living on the first floor. We'd be getting one of the new sophomores, from the third floor, and I was going to be the room captain.

I'd already started getting my packing done at one thirty that afternoon, before Shirley called me. Even though we had seen each other two more times during the past week, neither time was conducive to us slipping away somewhere to be alone. Mama had said something to Mrs. Jones, about me needing to get ready to return to school, the night before, while both our families were at the country club dance. I was almost certain that I'd already told Shirley about school starting a month early at the academy, but she said I hadn't, and she acted all mad at me for the balance of the evening. We still danced together, eight or nine more times, after that. It was really pretty interesting. She wasn't talking to me, because she said she was mad about me leaving so soon, and for not telling her, but she still wanted to dance with me, and she rubbed herself against me each time we danced.

When the dance let out, she and I hurried out to the Jones family car, rather than wait around while our parents finished up with their drinks, and the social business of saying goodnight to each other. At the car, we still weren't speaking, but we traded smoldering looks while the club emptied out, and people came over by us, to get their cars and leave. It wasn't private, so we didn't do anything other than look, but it was a charged period for both of us. If we had been alone, I'm certain a torrid make out session would have ensued. We might not have been talking, but both of us were feeling the immediacy of our soon to be, separation. When Shirley's parents showed up, I dropped my gaze from her eyes, and mumbled a goodnight to her and her family. I was afraid that she'd let her anger prevent us from seeing each other again, in the short time remaining before I left to return to school. When I heard her voice on the other end of the phone, my heart soared. Shirley was fast becoming an important emotional component in my life.

"Kenny, what are you doing?"

"I'm packing. Hans is driving me to school at five thirty. I was going to call you later, to tell you goodbye, though. I'm sorry that you got mad at me, but I know I told you about how we got out real early because we started a month before anybody else."

"If you did, I don't remember it. It was a shock to me last night when I found out you were leaving so soon. Even if you had told me about this, you should have said something to me again about when you were leaving, not waited until the last minute like this to remind me."

"Well, I'm sorry. I had to work all week, and I thought you already knew I was leaving today. I called you on Tuesday to see if you wanted to go for a walk, remember? If you had gone with me, maybe we could have talked about it then."

"It was almost eight o'clock when you called me. I had already showered, and my hair was in curlers. I was in my PJ's already. If you had said something like 'I'm leaving for school on Sunday, let's go for a walk', I would have taken out my curlers and gotten dressed again. That's not what you said though. You said you needed some exercise, and we should go for a walk."

"I couldn't just come out and say that I missed you, and that I wanted to go for a walk, so we could be alone together in the dark, and make out."

"Why not? If you had said that, I'd have gotten dressed. I'm not sure what my parents would have said about it, but I'd have been willing to ask them if I could go out. I'm coming over to see you right now, that's why I called you."

"Now?"

"Yes now. If you're going to be leaving in a couple of hours, when did you think I meant?"

"I just wanted to be sure you meant now. How are you coming?"

"I'm walking. How soon before you're finished with packing?"

Not long. Mostly, I just wanted to be sure I didn't forget anything I'll need this first week. I'm coming home Friday, right after school lets out. I'll be finished before you get here."

"Who's home at your house?"

"What do you mean? We're all home."

"Meet me out front then, in about fifteen minutes."

We got off the phone, and I hurried through the remainder of my checklist. Shirley hadn't sounded that upset with me when I talked to her. I brought my packed bag, and my new school uniforms, downstairs, and placed them in the entranceway. I was ready to leave. Dad was in his study, and Mama was in the living room, poring over some changes she was thinking about making with the sand trap practice green. She had decided, after watching the British open on television, that she needed some pothole bunkers. These were traps where the ball might need to be played out to the side, rather than directly towards the green. Her problem was that she had already surrounded the green with a lot of other kinds of bunkers, in her finished design, and there wasn't any room for these two pothole bunkers she wanted to add. I could tell, just from the way she was chewing on her pencil, that Mama was frustrated. She wasn't used to not being able to do what she wanted to, and she couldn't figure out anything she'd be willing to trade to add these new bunkers.

"Didn't you say they only have these kinds of traps in Britain and in Europe? I don't think you really need them here in Kansas, Mama."

"That's very shortsighted of you Kenny. Besides, I'm sure there are courses right here in America that have pothole bunkers. I said I'd never seen any here, not that they didn't exist. I saw how creative the players had to be to figure out the best strategy for playing out of these pot hole bunkers, and I want us to be able to teach every aspect of good bunker play. Your father and uncle won't be happy about it, but we're going to need to scrap this design, and redesign it, to make room for these two new bunkers."

"Mama, you remember your promise? No more changes."

"Kenny, there's no sense building something that isn't adequate to the instructional needs of our teaching pros."

"You don't even have any working for you yet, unless you count Dave, Jane and Grace. You're just excited about wanting to try ways of getting out of those kinds of bunkers yourself, Mama.

"Kenny, that's so untrue. I admit that I'm personally curious, but my main interest is in providing complete bunker play instruction."

I pointed to one area on the left and behind a deep and wide trap. "What's over here, Mama?"

"That's a clear area where the instructors will gather the students to assign them to the various positions for practice."

"It looks pretty big to me. Why not just put those two pot hole bunkers right there, behind the big trap? I would be easy to contour it from back there. Those drawings you made show them to be deep and steep in the front anyway. You're going to have to do a lot of building up in the front. It would cost a lot more if they were next to the green. Isn't this area here lower because of you building up the green to make it higher than all your traps? You could dig out behind here, and make the trap ahead higher still. All it would take is a few swipes with one of those big bulldozers. All your building is in front anyway."

Mama listened to me as I used my fingers to show her what I meant. "Where will the classes meet to get their assignments if we use that area for the pot holes?"

"How about on the green? Maybe on the bridge you're building for green access? There's only going to be a few people in each class anyway, right? Doing it this way couldn't cost you much more than what you're already budgeting to build this area anyway. If you try to redesign the whole thing, it's going to cost a whole bunch more."

"Thank you dear. You've given me something to think about. Perhaps we can make the bridge a little bit wider, without taking that much away from any of the green side bunkers. If we did that, it might work. We'd also need to make adjustments in the amount of weight it could hold at one time. You've given me a good idea. I wasn't looking forward to addressing this with Bunny or your father. All they care about is the cost of the learning center. I have to think about the quality."

I told Mama I had to go, because I wanted to be outside before Shirley showed up. I hadn't gotten five feet outside my front door before I saw Shirley walking up our driveway. I hurried out to join her.

"Hi, that was quick." I kept walking closer as I spoke to her.

"I walked fast. We don't have that much time left. Why do you have to go in so early?"

"We assemble at six thirty, and then we need to go back to our rooms, to make sure everything is ready for school to begin in the morning. That's how they do it. I missed it last year because I registered late, but I can't miss it again."

"I woke up this morning thinking about you. Today would have been a good day for us to try what you suggested." I hadn't been thinking about sex before she said that. I'd been worried about seeing her again before I left, and about making sure she got over being mad at me. In an instant, all my priorities changed. Now, all I could think about was the two of us being together.

"Today would be good?"

"I don't know why it came on me so suddenly, but I woke up thinking about that. When I went to bed last night, I was still very upset about you leaving. Maybe I had some dreams or something, but this morning, that's what I woke up thinking about. It was one of the reasons I called you. Usually, I wouldn't have called."

"I'm glad you called me. I was going to wait until right before I left to call you, to say goodbye. I was afraid you wouldn't come to the phone, and then I'd have felt bad all week."

"I wish your parents weren't home. I would like to watch television in your room again."

"They wouldn't mind. Dad's locked up in his study, working on his action plans for the coming week, and Mama is trying to figure out how to squeeze more into a small area over at the golf learning center she's building. We could just walk in and say hello to Mama, then tell her we're going up to the room to talk, before I have to leave."

"She'd believe that?"

"We are going to talk. It's almost two. I have to leave by five thirty, at the latest. We haven't had any chances to be alone all week. Where did you tell your parents you were going?"

"I didn't. I said I was going out, for a walk. They usually don't ask too many questions as long as I'm home when they expect me to be there, like for dinner at six. Are you sure your mother won't be suspicious if we're up in your room, alone, for a few hours?"

"No, why would she be? She let me sleep with Brenda before. She knew what we were doing. She won't say anything about it."

"Suppose she lets something slip to my parents? What about your father? He's my Dad's boss. He's going to be talking to him all the time."

"We don't have to go up to my room. You just want to go for a walk?"

"No. I don't want to waste how hot I am right now. Do you have any more of those rubber things?"

"About fifty of them. Hans bought me a big pack before."

"Is there any way you could sneak me up to your room, so your parents wouldn't know?"

"You're worrying for nothing. I told you my parents wouldn't care. Let's just go inside, and say hello to Mama. She likes you. We can sit in the living room with her and talk about the golf learning center, if you want to. I'm just glad to see you, and happy you came over today. I'm going to miss you all week too. I can call you at night, after dinner and homework, or you can call me, but it's a toll call. I can give you some money to pay your father back for your phone bills, if you call me. On my phone, you have to put money in every three minutes. When I call home, we talk for the first three minutes, and if we want to talk longer, they just call me back."

"I didn't come over here to sit in the living room, talking to your mother, Kenny. Today's a very good day. I don't get too many days like today, where everything is already working good for an orgasm. My period just got done yesterday, and I'm always a little more sensitive, right before, or right after. I've been checking things on my body, just to make sure, all day. Don't tell your mother we're going to your room. Ask her if it's okay instead. I'd die of embarrassment, if you told her we were going up there together, and she said you couldn't. Let's go do it now, because we don't know how long it's going to take for me to have one."

We went inside, and Mama wasn't in the living room. The door to Dad's study was still closed, and so we went right up to my room, with no one noticing, or seeing us. I closed and locked my bedroom door, going over and turning my television on so that it was loud enough that people wouldn't hear us talking or anything else going on in the room. As soon as I'd finished doing everything to get us ready, including going into my dresser drawer and getting three or four packs of rubbers, Shirley and I began being shy and self conscious around each other. We could both feel it, and it was starting to feel awkward, and uncomfortable.

"I really liked dancing with you last night, Shirley. It was almost perfect the way your pussy fit right next to my dick."

"Kenny! You're not supposed to say that. You should say you enjoyed the dancing, and that's all. I already could tell that you liked the other. When we were driving home last night my mother said something to me about that too. She did it deliberately, to embarrass me in front of Daddy."

"What did she say?"

""She said it was a good thing I had a dress on, because the way we were dancing so close, I might have gotten pregnant otherwise."

"Wow. What did your father say?"

"He didn't say anything, but he looked at my mother, and then shook his head at her. My mother says things like that because she thinks she's being funny. I was so embarrassed. I think she was watching us every time we danced together."

"I could feel you every time you bumped against me, or when you pressed yourself in closer, and just stayed there. I was hoping you'd do that thing you did in my garage before, when I was kissing all over your neck?"

"Why don't we start with that? You kissing me on my neck. I liked that a lot before. I like it when you rub my behind too." We touched and kissed and talked. I enjoyed running my hands up and down her back, cupping both her butt cheeks in my hands, while she pressed herself against me in the front. I could tell she was enjoying everything we were doing, but not as much as she had before, on those two occasions I'd been with her, after she had orgasmed. We talked about that too. "I could make myself have one, Kenny, if I had something to use to do it with. Do you have something?"

I told her to wait right there, that I'd be back in a minute. I left the room, making sure, when I opened the door, there was no one out in the hallway. I closed my door behind me and went downstairs. Hans and Gerta were in the kitchen, when I went through there, on my way to the garage. I found two screwdrivers about the size of the two Shirley had used at her house, and then I saw this really big one, the one that Hans used as a lever to stretch the fan belts, whenever he was installing new ones on the cars. I brought it along with me, as a joke. When I walked back in the kitchen with the screwdrivers, Hans asked me what I was doing with his tools.

"I need them. Don't worry, I'll put them back when I'm done with them."

"Do you want some help?"

"No, thanks though. This is something I need to work on alone. I'll bring the tools back, Hans, and I promise I won't break them."

I got back to the bedroom, and hid the tools to keep Shirley from seeing them, as I locked the door again and went into the bathroom. I ran hot water and washed each tool with soap and water, drying them carefully after I was done. I put the big tool in the towel and walked out of the bathroom toward where Shirley was sitting on the bed, watching the volleyball game on the TV. I showed her my two screwdrivers, casually placing the towel with the joke screwdriver wrapped inside it, on my nightstand. Shirley smiled at me and took the screwdrivers from my hand. It didn't take her long to remove her jeans and panties, and I could see how red and swollen her pussy lips already looked when she leaned back and started touching herself with the bigger screwdriver. I was sitting down towards the foot of the bed, watching her, and running one of my hands up and down her lower leg. I might not have mentioned it before, but I had really enjoyed watching Shirley the other time, when she did this when I was in her bedroom. It was just exciting watching her playing with herself. This time, it took her a lot longer before she put the screwdriver inside her. I loved watching her spinning it in one direction, and then the other. From the expression on her face, she liked it a lot too.

"Do you want to put the other one in my back hole, Kenny? You need to wet it good first, then don't just shove it in, work it in slowly."

I picked up the other screwdriver and put the handle into my mouth, making sure it was plenty wet. I leaned in and placed it up against her butt hole, as she lifted her legs up to make it easier for me to do. I just increased the pressure on it a little bit, as Shirley started spinning the handle in her pussy faster. Her butt kind of opened up then, and about an inch or maybe inch and a half of the little handle went up inside her. I let go of the metal blade and moved back.

"Is this okay, Shirley? It isn't hurting you is it?"

"No, it's fine. It's a little smaller than my other one, isn't it?" I didn't know. It had looked about the same to me. Shirley could tell a lot easier than I could. The only thing I thought of was, she'd given me the perfect opening to spring my joke on her with the other screwdriver.

"I brought a bigger one too, because I wasn't sure."

"Oh, God, Kenny, this is really starting to feel good. Put the one in the back in a little bit deeper. Is the other one longer, or is it fatter?"

"It's both. It might be too big for this though." I put the one in her butt in deeper, and then I moved it out a little at first, then put it back in, deeper, until most of the handle was up inside her. About three inches I'd guess. She was really starting to twirl the bigger screwdriver faster then, and her hips were moving around so that I stopped touching the other screwdriver in her butt. She might know how to adjust for her movements, but I didn't, and I didn't want to accidentally injure her.

She stopped her moving around right after that, and then made a painful looking face at me. She looked a lot like Mama had looked, downstairs before, when she had been frustrated about where she could put those pot bunkers. Shirley's look was a lot more intense though.

"What's the problem. Did I hurt you?"

"No, it was really going good, but then I lost it, and I started feeling kind of numb. I need to stop for awhile, and wait for it to get calmed down, before I try it again. I'm worried now, because sometimes, when this happens, I can't make an orgasm happen. When that happens, then I'm walking around, feeling all frustrated, until my body tells me it's okay, and I can try it again. This better not be one of those times. I was really getting close too. It was going to be a good one. I felt my stomach muscles starting to tingle, and that's always a good sign. Show me that other screwdriver while I'm waiting." I looked down, but the screwdriver in her butt had come out. She had the one that had been in her pussy, held in her left hand, and was resting it on her stomach. Suddenly, my little joke didn't seem like it was very funny.

"I don't think it's such a good idea now. I was just going to play a little joke on you. A dumb one. I really thought, from the way you were going, that you were going to cum."

"I did too. When it gets that far along, usually I can, but this time it got numb really quick. What kind of a joke?"

I picked up the towel and unwrapped it, showing her the big screwdriver. I thought she'd either laugh, or else be really mad. Instead of laughing, or getting mad, she took the screwdriver away from me.

"Where did you get one like this? I've never seen one as big as this. You didn't think I was going to put this in my back end, did you?" The look she gave me when she asked me that was one of those 'what were you thinking' looks.

"It was supposed to be a joke. I was going to show it to you after, but just as a joke."

"Did you wash it?"

"Yes, I washed all of them."

"If it was a joke, why did you wash it?"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about you really using it. I saw it when I got the other ones, and I just thought it would be funny to bring it up here and show it to you." While I was apologizing, Shirley had leaned up a little and was running the handle of the big screwdriver up and back along the sides of her pussy. It looked almost like she was experimenting with how something that big would feel to her. I shut up and watched her.

"It would fit you know? Yours is as big as this. I don't think I'd be able to move it around inside though" She was already changing the position of the screwdriver, putting the end of the handle down, so it was facing her pussy. I watched her closely as first one inch, and then two, disappeared up inside her. This time, she started bucking and thrashing around, after only a minute or two, and she started making noises with her mouth. "Take your clothes off, Kenny, and put one of those rubber things on you. I'm almost ready to do it."

I was halfway through undressing when she finished talking. I slipped a rubber on my dick, and then bent over to remove my socks. Shirley was really lost in what she was doing, and I watched as she gave a very loud groan and arched her back up, so that all her weight was supported by her shoulders and her heels. The screwdriver looked a little obscene as it protruded from her, the blade reaching past her knees. There was no doubt that she was cumming, and that it was a turning out to be really good one for her. When she relaxed a little, she dropped back down on the bed, removing the screwdriver, and then putting it over, away from her, off to the side, until it finally fell off the bed, and wound up on the carpet. She looked over at me and smiled. She looked a little embarrassed, but too content and satisfied to care that much.

For the next three hours or so, we tried lots of different things. They weren't new things, they were things we'd done together before, back when she hadn't had an orgasm first. This time, it was all so much different. She had an orgasm when I licked her pussy, and then, later, when we were making love, she had several others, one in particular was so strong, she said it was, by far, the strongest and best one she'd ever had. All I know was that she scratched my back until I felt blood dripping from one of the scratches. she was also making some very loud noises, practically screaming right into my ear for me to fuck her harder. I was already doing her as hard and as fast as I was capable of. We both went a little bit crazy when I came in her the final time, my third one. She was raking my back and screaming, and I was pushing into her so hard that I felt like I was trying to drill a new hole in her. My cum came out so hard that I was afraid it would shoot out through the end of the rubber.

My poor bed was a mess. We had somehow thrown all the covers off the bed, out, onto the floor, until there was nothing left but the bare mattress. All my pillows were gone too. I later found one over by my bathroom, an easy thirty feet away from the bed. I had no idea how it had gotten so far away. I was having trouble with my breathing. That's how it felt to me, like I was gasping for any possible air I could get. My chest was heaving, and my heart actually hurt me as it worked hard to pump blood and oxygen through my system. I felt like I'd been holding my breath for three minutes. Shirley had my hand trapped in hers, and placed on her own heaving stomach.

"Kenny, I'm going to cry, because it was just so perfect. I don't see how it could ever be better than that, not for anyone. I felt like we were each a connected part of the other. I felt you going so deep inside me, and all I wanted was for you to stay in me like that, forever, connected together with me."

I wanted to say something to her, but I didn't have the breath it would take. I looked at her though, hoping she could see, from my look, I felt the same way. I might have stayed right there with her like that forever, if the phone hadn't started ringing in my room. I picked it up nervously, and said hello.

"Good, you're still alive. Your mother and I were beginning to wonder. I assume you're entertaining then. It's a quarter after five, Kenny. You have fifteen minutes to get ready to leave. We'll ask Hans to give the young lady a ride back to her home. Would I be correct to assume that it is the Jones girl that you've been making all that racket with?"

"Yes, but you aren't going to mention that to anyone else, are you?"

"Do you mean am I going to call her parents to tell them that you've had her up in your room for the past three hours, making so much noise that we feared for both your safeties? No, I don't think I'd care to do that. I'm sure your mother feels the same way as I do. In fact, Kenny, for the sake of the young lady's modesty, no one will be present to see you off when you come downstairs. Call us tonight after you get settled. I hope you took adequate precautions?"

"Yes. Thanks Dad." I hung up and turned to Shirley. That was my Dad. He called to let me know I have only a few minutes before I have to leave. We need to hurry. I'll have to wait to shower until after I get back to school."

Shirley jumped right out of bed, running quickly into the bathroom. I heard the shower start up, and that's when I glanced at my watch on my nightstand. It was only five ten. Dad had lied to me by at least ten minutes. I found all three screwdrivers and put all the covers and pillows back on top of the bed. I washed the screwdrivers off in the sink, and rinsed them good before drying them with the towel I'd brought back from the bedroom with me. Having more than five extra minutes, I jumped into the shower with Shirley. I rinsed off, and then lathered up, before again rinsing off. Shirley finished right when I did, and she hurried out, grabbing the last remaining clean bath towel. She did this before I had a chance to. I was forced to use the same towel that I had used on the screwdrivers. I was just thankful to have something to use to dry off with.

We were dressed, and ready to go downstairs, right on time. Shirley looked relieved that no one was in the living room when we went downstairs. I told her that I'd give her a ride home, but she said she preferred to walk. I kissed her when we got to the limo, a simple kiss to start with, which ultimately turned into a three or four minute long, goodbye kiss and mutual butt grope. I didn't start out grabbing her in any of the sex places, but my touching her anywhere seemed to please both of us. I told her I'd call her around eight. When we parted, I went over and climbed in front with Hans. We were halfway to school before he said anything to me about Shirley.

"Why was it she didn't want to ride home with you, Kenny? It isn't right she needs to walk all the way home like that."

"I asked her Hans. She wanted to walk."

"Did you have a fight?"

"No. She just probably wanted to think. Don't you ever like to walk around by yourself, thinking?"

"Never. Gerta doesn't let me do much thinking anyway. What thinking she does let me do, she wants to be right there to make sure I'm thinking what she wants me to think." He was smiling, so I knew he was probably only kidding. It was true though that Gerta made more decisions than Hans did.

"Shirley likes to think. I like to think too, and it's better for me, when I'm thinking, if I'm alone, with no distractions."

"Speaking of distractions, where are my screwdrivers? We heard the two of you yelling up there, and we wondered what you were up to. You didn't sound like you were fixing anything that needed screwdrivers."

"We kind of got distracted from what we were doing. I was showing her the difference between a blade and a Phillip's head. We started doing other things, and after that, she lost interest."

Hans didn't say anything else. I had taken the three screwdrivers, hiding them in my closet, behind some shoe boxes. I should probably give them back to him, I thought, and then go later to buy some other ones, for my room. I didn't have any tools in my room at all, and they might come in handy if I had some around. I'd wait until I was home from school, I decided, and then I'd take Shirley with me to the hardware store. I'd let her help me pick some things out.

Back at Clement Academy, I got up to my apartment with just enough time to put my things in my own room, and get over to the main building for the student assembly. No one was in my room when I got there. I ran into Terry on the way to assembly. He was a senior now, and he had been selected as room captain of his new room, down on the first floor. The first thing he asked me was to request reassignment to his room. He said he had one of the other juniors in his room, and it was someone he didn't like at all. He wanted us to switch places. I told him I needed to stay where I was, to try to help Jerry. I had already spoken to Mama about Jerry, and she said I could bring him home with me on weekends, whenever I wanted to. First though, Jerry would need to get written permission from his mother.

I was worried about Jerry. When I'd walked back to my academy apartment, early in the summer, Jerry had seemed really depressed to me. He didn't do much other than stay in his rooms, and go over to the dining room for meals. He really missed Nigel. I didn't think Jerry was gay, just that he was willing to do that with Nigel, for the friendship, and for the attention he received because of it. Terry was a little different case though. I don't think he cared about who he did things with, not as long as he got his rocks off. That's what he always called it, getting his rocks off. I thought that was a peculiar expression to use in describing having sex, but Terry was only interested in the end result. I liked Terry well enough, but the more I knew him, the less I found to admire about him. With Jerry, it was different. I liked him well enough, but mostly I just felt sorry for him, and I wanted to help him. He reminded me of some of the boys back at the orphanage, the ones who always needed people to pay some attention to them. He was needy. I had asked him before to get permission to come home with me, even before I spoke to Mama about him.

We were back in the room, after the full student assembly, and I was getting acquainted with Brad Dougherty, our new roommate. He was a smaller boy, fifteen years old, a sophomore. He was obviously spoiled, and he got angry when I told him he was the new latrine queen. He made a quick deal with Jerry to switch positions, for a one time cash payment of fifty dollars. I nixed the deal, telling Brad he couldn't buy his way out of room duty assignments. Both boys looked disappointed. I told Jerry that Nigel had written to me in the summer, and had sent me fifty dollars to give to him, for snacks and things. The part about Nigel writing was true. The part about him sending the fifty dollars, wasn't. I found out that Nigel had written to Jerry also, and that they corresponded irregularly now, but only because Jerry didn't have the wherewithal to purchase the necessary postage to England. I told him he could write Nigel, and that I'd take the mail home and see that it got sent out. I gave him twenty of the fifty dollars, telling him I'd hold onto the rest, because Nigel had told me to make sure it lasted him.

The first week of school wasn't so bad, mostly because I was familiar now with how they did things. I came to every class fully prepared. Every night, I'd call home and speak with Mama or Gerta, and usually, both. We didn't talk long, because they both knew I was going to be calling Shirley right after I hung up with them. I spoke with Shirley every single day that first week. She was always waiting right there in her room, and would usually lift up the receiver to answer the phone, even before the first ring was finished.

We always started out just talking about innocent things, like how my classes were coming, or about her family or mine. On Wednesday, her dad had come home early, and she had gone out and played a round of golf with him. She told me she had birdied three holes, and we spent fifteen minutes going over every shot she had taken at each of those three birdie holes. On Thursday, her oldest brother left for school, needing to get back early for some kind of ROTC commitment. I told her that I'd give her a call as soon as I got back from school on Friday, but she had a better idea. She would meet me at the country club, and we could talk in private while we hit some practice balls.

After I got off the phone with her, I called home again and asked Mama if she'd mind too much if I went straight to the club to hit some balls. I told her I wanted to work on some things before we played together on Saturday. She told me that was fine, and told me that she had already invited Shirley to play with her, Dad, and me on Saturday.

Uncle Bunny was going to be up in Chicago, signing some papers, and handling a real estate transaction for David and Craig. He was leaving Friday afternoon, with Elizabeth, in the company plane. They were planning on spending the weekend in Chicago, having the closing on Monday morning, and being back in Ridgeline by Monday afternoon. Mama wasn't too happy with the way Uncle Bunny and Elizabeth had seemed to take to each other. She wasn't the only one either. Mrs. Connor was having trouble not having Uncle Bunny around to pick up the slack in her life. Apparently, it was sexual slack, in addition to financial slack. That's what I heard Mama telling Dad, that first weekend I was home from school.

On Friday, as the room captain, I went and got my own pass to leave campus. Jerry had called his mother about sending written permission for him to leave campus to visit my home. She told Jerry she'd send it right away, but it hadn't arrived by Friday when I went and picked up my own pass. When I got back and checked in on Sunday, Jerry told me that the permission had been received. In addition to specifying my name, Jerry's mother had appended her permission, allowing for Jerry to go home with any other student who might invite him. Jerry didn't seem to take offense about her writing something as uncaring as that. We arranged that he'd come home with me the next weekend.

That first weekend home, I met Shirley out at the practice range and we hit a lot of balls. Shirley told me that my mother had called her house and invited her not only for golf on Saturday, but also for dinner Saturday night, and to the Country Club dance later. It sounded like Shirley and I would be together from about ten in the morning on Saturday until we took her home after midnight that evening. I smiled, thinking about how much time there was likely to be, from the time we returned from the club, until dinner at seven. In the limo coming back from the academy, Hans had told me that I could keep the screwdrivers I'd borrowed. He told me he'd needed the big one for something, and he'd gone ahead and bought a whole new set of the others too, when he went down the replace the ones I hadn't returned. I think I might have blushed, because I know my face felt hot when he started laughing. There wasn't any possible way that Hans could know what we'd done. He might have guesses, but he couldn't know.

"Maybe this weekend I can lend you one of my power drills, Kenny? Ja, I've got a big bit I use to make the holes for the door knobs. Verdreht, Kenny."

"What is verdreht? Is that German?"

"Of course, what else? In English, the closest meaning would be kinky, I think. It means unusual. Don't be mad with Hans. I'm just kidding with you, Kenny. You know this, right?"

"Don't say things like that when Shirley could hear you Hans. That wouldn't be funny, and it wouldn't be nice."

"I'm sorry, Kenny. I meant no offense, to you, or to your young lady friend. This was something that I shouldn't have spoken of. Sometimes, Hans forgets how young you are. This is something only old married men would joke about together. Please forgive me."

I worried because what I'd said to Hans sounded a lot more angry than I had meant it to sound. I'd been worried about Shirley when I spoke to him. The last thing I wanted, was for someone to say something to embarrass Shirley, because I'd failed to be discreet enough when I'd gone to the garage to get the screwdrivers. The thought that Hans knew what we had been doing, up in my room, was also very troubling to me. It was different from my parents and Hans and Gerta knowing that Shirley and I had been having sex. That didn't bother me. I hadn't gone to any trouble to hide that fact. This other thing, that was much more private, as far as I was concerned. Still, I didn't want Hans to feel bad because my own careless mistake had led him to a discovery about Shirley and me.

"Hans, I'm not mad at you, but I'm not comfortable talking about these kind of things with people. I don't want you getting the wrong idea about Shirley either. She isn't like Bea at all. She's the nicest girl I've ever been around. I don't want you feeling bad about this, but I would rather we didn't kid around about those kinds of things anymore."

"You're right, Kenny. I was out of line, and I'm sorry."

"You know Hans, it isn't like that. I'm not saying you were out of line, only that I'm worried about you saying something to hurt somebody. I understand that you only meant to be kidding around. Which, unfortunately brings up something that isn't funny, Hans. Uncle Bunny told me what you said at my birthday party, to my Aunt Clara."

"What? All I said to her was she should dress more modern, because she had the figure for it. What's wrong with that? Gerta was right there when I said it, So was Bunny and Elizabeth. That was completely innocent."

"Hans, my Aunt Clara's a Catholic Nun. She's married to Jesus." The look Hans got on his face was worth everything he'd put me through with his joking around about the drill bits and the screwdrivers. I gave him a minute to digest what I'd said. "Uncle Bunny's handling their divorce."

"Divorce?"

"She's going to stop being a nun, Hans. She decided to quit, right after you paid so much attention to her. She wants you, I think. I heard her talking to Uncle Bunny and Elizabeth about what a handsome man you were, and about how your accent got her so hot. Remind me to tell Gerta that Aunt Clara's coming to dinner on Sunday. Don't let her talk you into anything though, because her divorce isn't final yet. You wouldn't want to get the Pope pissed off at you." We rode the rest of the way to the country club without further conversation between us. I knew Hans was going to call Uncle Bunny to find out if it was true that Aunt Clara was a nun.

I called him at the office right after Hans dropped me off and explained to him about my joke. I asked him to lay it on really thick with Hans about Clara being infatuated because of Hans proud Teutonic bearing. Uncle Bunny had been Hans victim many times in the past, and he laughingly told me he would do his best.



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Chapter 30

I had a great weekend. Saturday was simply the most wonderful day I'd ever had. At the dance Saturday night, several people commented about how good a couple Shirley and I made, and about how happy I looked. Shirley, they said, was beautiful and radiant. There was a moment, during the early part of the dance, when I thought I was in big trouble. Mrs. Jones came over to our table and asked me to dance with her, As soon as we were out on the dance floor, she shocked me with something she said.

"If you get my little girl in trouble, Kenny, I'll see to it that you no longer have the equipment to do that to anyone else's daughter. I've seen the way you two are together, and I'm not too old to remember what the look that's on her face means. Her father can't see what's right in front of his face, but I do. I don't trust you, but I love Shirley, and I know she's only doing what she wants to be doing. You treat her right, young man, and you make damn sure she doesn't come back home someday with a little one baking in her oven."

"I really like Shirley, Mrs. Jones. I don't plan on hurting her."

"Getting her pregnant would hurt her, Kenny."

"Yes, I agree. I repeat, I don't plan on hurting her."

"I want to scream at you, to tell you that she isn't ready for any of this. The truth is though, she's happier right now than I've ever seen her before. I looked at her tonight, when you first walked in here together, and I almost cried because of how happy she looked. That can all change in an instant though. You're her very first boyfriend, her first love. That's a big responsibility for a boy as young as you are. I can't be there to protect her from what's most likely going to happen. No one can. Make the good times good enough for her so that she can get through the sadness that's bound to follow."

"Is that what happened to you, with your first love?" She looked at me, and then she smiled.

"No, not yet at least. I was so much older that she is though, and mine was a special case. This is different."

"Shirley was worried that she'd end up growing too tall for anyone to ever love her. I'm trying to show her that she's wrong, and that it's more than height that matters. Right now, she doesn't seem as worried about her growing taller than me. She knows from you how hard it might be for her, because of how tall she is. It's been worrying her a lot, and she's read all those books of yours, those romance novels, and she didn't want to miss out on all of that."

"They exaggerate in those books. I hope she hasn't built her expectations too high from reading those books. Real life isn't like that. Romance isn't like that."

"She told me that, that I don't say and do the same kinds of things the heroes in the novels do. I don't rescue her from abductors, or kill twenty men just to be with her. She said she already knew that part wasn't real."

"That's good. By now, I'm sure she's found out that a lot of the rest is exaggerated as well." I knew she meant the sex. There wasn't anything I could say that wouldn't have sounded like bragging to her. I couldn't very well tell her that her daughter hadn't been able to walk down to dinner at seven, because her legs were too weak to carry her, or that my parents and Jane and Grace had ended up in their own bedrooms, because the sounds coming from my bedroom had driven them to their own fevered pitch. Shirley looked radiant and beautiful for a reason. Her skin was glowing, and her eyes were shining, because she was supremely satisfied. Our coupling, after golf and lunch, had been without any aids or props. Shirley had announced that she was already fully primed for making love. She said she had spent a week thinking about me, and wanting a repeat of that Sunday night encounter.

One thing we learned from the first thirty minutes in my bedroom, was that I could delay cumming for a very long time when Shirley was on top, riding me. By the time she had managed her first orgasm, both of us were covered in a thick sheen of sweat, and her hair was absolutely soaked, and starting to curl on its own. After her first orgasm, all the rest of them, except for her last one, followed more quickly, and with considerably less effort from her. I made her cum three times, just by licking her pussy, with my finger sliding in and out of her butt hole. We had meant to quit early enough to shower and go down for dinner. The last time we did it, it was with me taking her from the back, doggy style. It was the only way that Shirley could control the pace without actually being forced to do all the work herself. It also was the way for me to bottom out inside her with considerable force. Shirley just loved it when I pounded against her cervix. She said it hurt, but that it hurt in a way that was very exciting and satisfying to her. I didn't want to damage anything, but I figured if we were doing any real harm, the pain would get too much for her to want to continue.

I had already cum three times, even before we tried it doggy style, and my dick wasn't as stiff as it had been earlier. Shirley didn't mind at all. I couldn't cum again, and we had been at it so long that I was getting a leg cramp in my right calf. Whenever I'd try to straighten and stretch my leg out, hoping to get rid of the cramp, Shirley would starting moving back harder and faster against me, and start yelling some more things, describing in graphic detail everything we were doing, and how, commenting on how it felt, and where she enjoyed my dick the most. I wanted us to stop a good twenty minutes before we did. When she finally achieved the orgasm that she had been seeking for the last thirty minutes, it must have been really exceptional. I know it lasted longer than any others I'd ever witnessed, and I could see and feel the muscles in her back and butt moving in disjointed spasms.

Shirley finally allowed herself to fall forward, sliding off my dick with a slurping sound. The rubber came off me and stayed inside her. I hadn't come close to cumming anyway, so I wasn't that concerned. I flopped over on my side, right next to her. I hadn't ever read any of those romance novels that Shirley and her mother read, but if the sex in them was better than what we'd just had, I didn't want to know about it, or have any contact with people who enjoyed it more. I was already afraid that I was going to hurt myself, if I did what we'd just done that afternoon, every single weekend from then on. I got up at six, and went in and took a shower. Shirley refused to budge when I tried to get her to join me. She claimed she was too weak to move. By six forty five, I was starting to get concerned. What was I supposed to say to my parents when Shirley didn't come downstairs with me for dinner. They were bound to notice, and make comments about it.

I went down by myself at seven, unable to delay any further, and not wanting to keep after Shirley, trying to get her up and into the shower, and dressed for dinner. I left her on my bed, sprawled nakedly, and uncaring about what was expected from her. At dinner, I made excuses for Shirley, telling the table that she wasn't feeling well enough to eat, but was hoping to make a strong enough recovery to attend the dance with us later. Halfway through dinner, Mama got up and excused herself. I didn't think too much about it. Perhaps she wanted to freshen up her make up, or go to the bathroom. When I saw her turn left instead of right at the top of the stairs though, I almost lost my appetite. She was definitely going to see a sight when she went into my bedroom. I felt bad for Shirley, but it was too late. Maybe I should have stayed up there with her, foregoing dinner. Now, at the very least, she was going to be very embarrassed by my mother's seeing her like that.

Dad looked over at me and smiled. "So, what have you been up to this afternoon, Kenny?" Jane and Grace started laughing and howling at my father's deadpan delivery of that line.

"Shirley and I were both so tired from golf, that we took a little nap." This time, all three of them were laughing and making rude comments about what loud sleepers, Shirley and I were, or saying I shouldn't have the television on so loud, and what was I watching? I listened to all of it, not making any return comments. I figured they'd get tired of it soon, but they didn't. I knew they were just teasing, but, after awhile, even if it's all in good fun, it gets old. It was a comment that Dad made that finally made me reply.

"Kenny, I've never heard anyone scream as loud as Shirley does. Or say the things she says."

"That's too bad Dad. Maybe you need some lessons." The laughing stopped, and I was afraid I'd once again gone too far. Dad was a proud and a reserved man, usually. It wasn't like him to tease this way. Maybe he'd been trying to loosen up a little, and my comment would drive him back into his reserved shell again.

"He'll have to ask Shirley when she has an opening." This was from Grace, and it broke the tension enough that all four of us were laughing this time. I looked at my watch, and it was seven forty five. It was time for me to go back to my room and face the music from Mama. I had expected her to be back down the stairs long before this, anxious to give me a piece of her mind, and to comment on my reckless, and ill advised, behavior. I found Mama and Shirley in my bathroom. Mama was helping her fix her hair, and Shirley just stood there allowing Mama to do what she wanted. They were both looking happy, and Shirley looked like she was fully revived, and ready for an evening of dancing.

"You look absolutely stunning dear. You are going to be the belle of the ball. Stay here for a minute. I've got something that will go well with your gown." Mama hurried out of the bathroom, and I walked in to take her place. I kissed Shirley, taking care not to smudge whatever make up she might have on. I noticed her skin seemed more clear and luminous than it had. I assumed it was a result of some make up. I stepped back, but Shirley wouldn't allow it, moving forward and encircling me with her arms.

"Kenny, that's not the kind of kiss I wanted. I can't believe how nice your mother has been to me. I was so embarrassed, but then she just started talking to me, acting like everything was perfectly normal, in spite of where she found me, and the fact that I was nude. She's so easy to talk to. She stayed here talking to me the whole time while I showered, and she's been helping me get ready for the dance."

"I told you she likes you, Shirley. Not as much as I do, but she likes you."

"I'm so glad you like me, Kenny. I really like you too." Shirley tried to smile, but I knew I'd said something wrong. I knew what I wanted to say, but I'd been afraid to just come right out and say it. Now, seeing her disappointment, I decided to say it anyway.

"I love you too, Shirley. I only meant that I like you in addition to loving you." It turned out that she didn't mind the way I'd sort of mangled my first declaration of love for her. We shared a kiss that was more appropriate for what I'd just told her. Mama was standing in the doorway to the bathroom when we broke our embrace. She was trying to smile, but, she too was a little overcome by what she had overheard me saying.

"Shirley, I'm sorry to have eavesdropped on your special moment just now. It was simply beautiful to hear him say that to you. Treasure the moment, dear. To be loved, that is something that's always precious." I knew she was thinking about my Dad, and about the fact that he still hadn't told her that he loved her. "Here dear, let me see how this looks on you." Mama showed Shirley a beautiful cameo hanging from a choker necklace that contained hundreds of small diamonds set all the way around it. "This was my mother's. It was given to her by her mother, and she left it to me when she passed away. It's beautiful, but I've never been able to put it on, because of the emotional weight that it carries for me. It should be worn though, and I'd like you to wear it tonight." Mama put it on Shirley's neck, and set the clasp and the safety chain. It looked good on Shirley, drawing attention to her long, sensuous, neck. Shirley didn't really need any adornments, her own healthy glow was more than enough. She appreciated the thought though, and the caring that Mama was showing her by offering to let her wear something that she valued so much. The three of us headed downstairs. Dad was upstairs, changing into his evening clothes.

Jane and Grace both took turns teasing Shirley. They started out mild, seeing how she an Mama reacted, but when Shirley laughed a lot herself, at all of their comments they were making, they started to mimic some of the earthier things that Shirley had yelled out. I saw Mama blushing and said something to warn Grace about going too far. Mama laughed, telling me to relax, it was only girl talk.

"I'm sure Shirley wouldn't have said all those things, not if she didn't have a real good reason for it." I walked away from the four women, all of them laughing at my immediate embarrassment over Mama's proud comment. Shirley started singing that song from an old James Bond movie, the one that goes, "Nobody does it half as good as you... Baby... You're the best." As I walked away, to the cheers, clapping and whistles, I'm sure my face was as red as a red delicious apple.

On the ride out to the club, I sat up front with Hans. I did it even though all the ladies said they were through teasing me. Of course, Hans thanked me for making it an easy afternoon for him and Gerta. He was the one who told me about my parents and the girls spending all afternoon back up in their bedrooms.

"Only you were able to make someone scream though, Kenny. Bunny could do that when he was younger. I don't know about now though."

"According to Bea, he still knows what to do with a woman, Hans. She said he really fooled her with his good performance."

"This girl, Kenny, me and Gerta, we both like her for you. There is more than just having the good sex for her. We see it when you two are together. You and her, you go good together. You should be nice to her, and not just with the sex."

I felt like I was being nice to Shirley. I wondered if people assumed that the problems I'd had with Brenda and Emily, were all my doing. I wasn't comfortable with people thinking that about me. I was starting to realize that people formed opinions as much by impressions and gossip, as by actual experience with someone. I thought I needed to ask people who knew me some questions, to find out how they first perceived me, and whether their opinion of me got better or worse after being around and getting to know me. Mrs. Jones was the first one I asked. It was about an hour after the first dance we had together, and I had gotten a chance to think about what she had earlier said to me. She had gone beyond what I would have considered to be appropriate comments, with her warnings and threats to me. I stood up, and walked over to her table, and asked her to dance this time.

"I've thought about what you said to me, Mrs. Jones. It seems to me that it was more than a normally concerned mother would say to her daughter's boyfriend. I'm curious about what you've heard about me that would make you so worried about my intentions towards Shirley?"

"I've thought about what I said too, Kenny. Perhaps I overreacted. I may only be projecting my own past fears and experiences onto both you and Shirley. I hope that is what has me so concerned. I was twenty when I met Mr. Jones, and I was a young woman long past being ready for some male attention. I'd almost given up all hope of living a normal life when Ron came along to rescue me from what I thought was surely going to be a life empty of experience, and filled with disappointments. You told me that Shirley lived in fear of having to endure the loneliness that I experienced. If she did fear that, then it is my fault, my responsibility. It hurts me that I might have caused her so much worry. Her personality has always been much more outgoing than mine is, or ever was. She's lucky that she inherited that from Ron. It wasn't just that I was so tall and gawky. I was also shy and timid. I was almost afraid of my own shadow, right up until I met my husband. Perhaps, I need to sit down and have a long talk with Shirley. A talk about all these other things that contributed, as much or more than my height, to my being alone and lonely, as a girl, and as a young woman."

"You don't seem that shy or timid to me now, Mrs. Jones."

"I'm not. I guess I was able to overcome most of that with the confidence I got from having someone who cared for me, someone who loved me."

"Shirley has me now. I care for her, and I love her. I wanted you to know that, and to also know that the farthest thing from my mind or from my intentions would be to harm Shirley in any way. I know that kids break up, and they go their separate ways. I know it, because that's already happened to me before. If it turns out that way with Shirley and me, I'm going to be at least as much devastated by it as she would be. We're both very happy together now, and I always try to make her feel good about what we do together. She makes me happy too. She doesn't try to act nice, she just is nice, and she makes me feel calm inside. When we're together, no matter what we're doing, I feel more at peace just because she's with me."

The dance was finished, so I brought Shirley's mom back to her table. I tried to thank her for the dance, but she reached out and gave me a hug. "Thank you, Kenny. I feel much better now."

Shirley's parents left early, and later, after the dance was over, all of us piled into the limo and drove by her house to drop her off. I got out with her, and walked her to her door. We shared a few light kisses, both of us sated after that afternoon's excesses. She took off the necklace and cameo and pressed it into my hand.

"Thank your mother again for me, for this, and for being so nice to me when she had every reason not to be. This has been a terrific day for me, the best ever. Call me in the morning if you want to get together." I watched her open up her door and slip quietly inside. When I got back, I handed Mama her necklace, quietly sharing with her what Shirley had said to me. I knew it had meant a lot to Mama, having spent that time alone with Shirley, while the rest of us were downstairs, finishing our dinner. I wasn't sure exactly why, but I was sure it had been something she took great pleasure in doing.

Sunday, Shirley and I decided on taking a long walk. We packed a bag with some food, and something for us to drink. We set off for the Golf Learning Center. That was what we had taken to calling it. Mama was still waiting for inspiration to strike her for the name she would give it at the grand opening, the following May. I had suggested a whole host of names so far, but she had rejected all of them. some of my best were 'Duffer's Delight' and 'Uncle Bunny's Golf Center'. Dad had suggested 'Chalmer's Folly' or 'Grand Old O-PAR-O'. So far, the only suggestion that Mama hadn't thrown out completely was Uncle Bunny's. He thought 'The Golf Academy' might be a good name.

It took us a long time to walk out there, but when we got there, we had a picnic by the small creek that ran across most of the property. We ate, and then I put my head in Shirley's lap and promptly fell asleep. When I woke up, I found she had been twirling small locks of my hair into curly ringlets. We hadn't gone off by ourselves to have sex, we just wanted to enjoy being together, alone. It was just a comfortable, but lazy day. At three, we started heading back. I dropped her off at her house on the way home, and then hurried off to my own house to spend some time with my family. At seven that evening, I went upstairs to change, and to get my things ready to return to school. Before I left, I called Shirley to tell her once again that I loved her. I didn't want her to forget it.



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Chapter 31

Life for me was really going well. I was really enjoying all my class work at the school. Shirley and I were getting along so well it was positively frightening. Anne Coulter was progressing very nicely in her treatment for alcoholism, and, for once, Mama and Dad seemed to be getting along really well. Mama was in one of her periodic long respites from her depression. Uncle Bunny, as usual, added to my sense of well being, sending me frequent humorous accounts and observations of my parents behavior together, along with some very detailed reports about Anne, my Grandmother Mildred, and my Aunt Clara. The latter two were engaged in an epic battle with each other. Uncle Bunny called it the battle between Good and Evil.

Apparently, Aunt Clara was a real genius at locating her mother's many secret hiding places for her booze supply. One of the conditions that Uncle Bunny had placed for his not pursuing legal action against Mildred and Anne, on my behalf, was for Mildred to approve and accept a protective appointment of her daughter, my Aunt Clara, as her conservator and legal guardian. Clara, because of this appointment, now controlled all of the income that came into the family. Still, somehow, Mildred kept gaining access to generous quantities of alcohol. Each morning, while her mother still lay sleeping off her overindulgence from the night before, Aunt Clara would scour the house, finding and disposing of hidden caches of booze. These caches were four to eight ounce bottles, that had all been refilled with cheap vodka, which seemed to be Mildred's preferred libation. She apparently liked it straight, and, three or four ounces, when taken over an hour's time, was sufficient to keep her feeling no pain whatsoever. Apparently that was her goal too, to feel no pain. This failure of Clara's, not being able to cut off, or even curtail, her mother's drink supply, according to my Uncle Bunny, was driving Clara to distraction.

On the weekends, throughout all of August and September, Shirley and I managed to play at least one round of golf together. Mama had become friendly with Mrs. Jones, and she had somehow managed to clear the path for Shirley and me to be together most of the time I was home on the weekends. It wasn't supposed to be for sex though, and Shirley wasn't able to sleep at my house like Brenda had done. We ate most of our meals together, with me usually being invited to Shirley's house for a lunch or a dinner, and her coming to my house once or twice at least, as well. We usually ate together at the club on Saturday's, after finishing up playing golf with some of our family members.

Jane and Grace had left for school in mid August, and were living in their new apartment over in Bolling. Hans, Shirley and I had made several trips over there, helping them with moving in, and with furnishing their new place. Ronnie, Shirley's younger brother, had enrolled in the University of Kansas for his sophomore year of college.

I missed working with Dad, and I'm afraid I might have pestered him, asking too many questions about how things were progressing at work. It was different, when you were there, right in the thick of all the action. Then, you were too busy trying to get your own problems handled. You didn't have the time to worry much about how other people's projects were progressing. Now that I was once again back on the sidelines, I was hungry for news about nearly everything that was happening. It was the same story exactly, with the work being done on the golf learning center. Everything seemed to be progressing well, towards an opening in mid May of the next year. Everything was right on course it seemed, at the company and with the golf center, and all without any help or input from me. It was driving me crazy. Mama said I'd been bitten by the business bug, and she seemed to be very happy that this was so.

Like I said earlier, August and September were near idyllic for me. I was really in love, and my love was being returned, in equal measure, to me. All the members of my family, and my friends were doing well, at least they were, as far as I knew. I hadn't heard from Bea, and neither had Uncle Bunny. Brenda had left for her boarding school, and Uncle Bunny told me that she hated it, and wasn't making much of an attempt to take part in any of the group sessions, or individual therapy opportunities being offered to her. She was treating it only as a necessary ordeal, one that somehow had to be gotten through. Uncle Bunny told me she had told her mother that it was just something that she needed to endure. He sounded sadly resigned to hearing more of the same from her.

I had just about decided to write Brenda a letter, asking her to participate honestly and fully in the therapy sessions, for everyone's sake. In return, I was going to be offering her my renewed friendship, as an incentive. I would make it clear to her that I had Shirley now, who I loved, and all I was offering was a platonic friendship. First though, before writing, I spoke with Shirley about my idea. I told her what I was hoping to accomplish, and I also told her this was something I wanted to do to help Brenda. I did want to help Brenda, but mostly, I wanted to help Mama and Uncle Bunny. They were both so anxious, and wanted so much, for the program to accomplish something positive for Brenda.

Shirley listened to my idea, and to the rationale behind it. It surprised me when she told me she didn't think it was such a good idea, and that I should try to stay out of it. She told me I needed to allow Brenda to work things out all by herself. She also told me, in no uncertain terms, that it would be better if it were Brenda herself who was finding her own reasons for seeking help with her problems. She told me that Brenda had to want to change for herself, not because of anyone else.

This brought about the first real fight that Shirley and I had ever had with each other. I practically accused her of being jealous of Brenda, and of not having enough faith in me, and in our love. She told me that I didn't understand the true nature of Brenda's problems, and that doing what I wanted to do, would only give her a reason to stay with her current way of looking at things. I didn't accept Shirley's logic, but I knew enough by now to know that she was a lot more important to me than my winning any argument could be. For once, I wasn't planning on doing anything that might cause a rift to develop. I told her that I wouldn't write to Brenda.

I asked Shirley if she thought it would be all right for Mama to write to Brenda, to offer her some encouragement, and pretty much the same deal I was going to propose, with the new incentive being Mama's continued patronage and friendship. I thought this might accomplish much the same thing, while leaving my name, and any offer of a renewed, platonic, friendship from me, out of it. Again, Shirley said she thought this was definitely something that Brenda had to decide to do for herself. It was difficult for me to do, but I accepted Shirley's conclusions, and again agreed to do nothing.

On the evening of the fourteenth of October, Brenda, along with two other girls, also students from the school, ran away. One of the girls had a friend who came by in a car and whisked the three girls from the open campus. A week later, the other two girls were located in Youngstown, Ohio. Both had been picked up while attempting to buy illegal drugs. They claimed that Brenda had come along with them only as far as Akron, where, they said, they had dropped her off.

A search was on all over the Midwest, sponsored by both the school in Ohio, and by Uncle Bunny. I blamed myself, for not having written when I first had wanted to. Mama blamed herself, for coming up with the idea to send Brenda away in the first place. Uncle Bunny was frantic, but he wasn't blaming himself, or anyone else. He said that Brenda was responsible for her own bad decisions, and that it had been her actions that had necessitated her being sent away for help in the first place. On the twenty fourth of October, Brenda showed up at her house, and refused to discuss anything about where she had been, or what she had done during that ten day period. She also flatly refused to go back to Ohio. Walt Connor supported Brenda's decision not to return. Mrs. Connor seemed torn between keeping Brenda home, knowing that this would alienate Mama and Uncle Bunny, or else sending her back, running the risk of causing further problems in her marriage. In the end, unable to sacrifice the comfort of her personal situation, even for Brenda's future welfare, she chose to do nothing, and Brenda was re-enrolled in the Ridgeline High School.

Now that we all knew that Brenda was safe, at least physically safe, anger had set in among some of the adults involved. Mama and Uncle Bunny were both angry. Neither of them were used to having people unwilling to follow their advice. It also bothered them that the Connors family didn't appreciate the help and support they had been given. I tried to tell myself that I no longer cared what happened to Brenda. I had Shirley to concern myself with now. For me to be spending my time worrying about Brenda, would just create other problems, problems I wished to try and avoid, if it was at all possible.

In the end, it was Mama that decided against taking any retaliatory action against the Connors. She did cut way back on her social contact with Mrs. Connor as well as with Brenda. Uncle Bunny continued to ignore Mr. and Mrs. Connor both, and stuck mostly with his law practice. Mrs. Connor seethed over his growing personal relationship with Elizabeth. He stopped making it his business to pay close attention to what was going on with Brenda and Richard. This was caused mostly by the fact that he wasn't in close daily contact with their mother.

By Thanksgiving, things had seemed to settle back down into a comfortable pattern again. It was while I was home for Thanksgiving that I first found out that some of the kids at the high school, led by both Richard and Brenda, were doing their best to make Shirley's life miserable. It was a campaign that had been orchestrated by Brenda, first to try to embarrass and humiliate Shirley because of her height, and the slimness of her physique. Second, she wanted to cause trouble between Shirley and me. Shirley had never mentioned a word to me about any of it. I only found out about it because I got a phone call from Gary Carstairs. He told me that he'd learned about the plot from Emily, and he thought maybe I still had enough influence with Brenda, that I could do something to make her stop doing it.

As soon as I got off the phone with Gary, I called Shirley. At first, she made it sound like it wasn't really anything, and that it didn't even bother her. When I kept asking her to tell me about some of the specific things the kids were doing or saying, she started crying, and wouldn't tell me. After I got off the phone with Shirley, unable to get her to really talk to me, I called over to the Connor house and Richard answered.

"Richard, this is Kenny Parsons. Why are you doing those things to Shirley Jones? What did she ever do to you?"

"We aren't doing anything to that stork, and if she says we are, she's just lying. It isn't us that you need to talk to, it's her. She's the one that keeps to herself and won't even speak to any of the people who are trying to be her friends. Brenda tried to help her, and she told her to buzz off. She's a real freak man. I don't know why you think she's so much. None of the rest of us do."

"She's my girlfriend, Richard. I love her. If you hurt her, you're hurting me. Do you remember what happened the last time you tried to hurt me?"

"Don't try to pull that on me, you asshole! Do you think I'm afraid of you or something? I'm not. Kenny, you just mind your own business. This isn't about you. Tell your girlfriend not to be so stuck up when other people are trying to be friendly. She's the one that started this, not Brenda. All Brenda wanted was to be friends with her. She called Brenda a whore. Where do you suppose she got that from, Kenny? You better not be talking that way about my sister." I tried to say something to him, to explain there was no way that Shirley would say something like that to Brenda, but he hung up on me before I had a chance to. I was so mad, I wanted to go over to the Connor house, drag Richard outside, and beat his ass, until he finally told me the truth. Instead, I walked over to Shirley's house.

Mrs. Jones let me in, but, for the first time in a long time, she didn't seem very happy to see me. I came in and asked her where Shirley was.

"She's in her room, crying, Kenny. Did you two have a fight?"

"No. I asked her about something I heard, about what's happening to her in school. I just heard about some of the other kids at school teasing her. She said it wasn't anything, but, when I questioned her some more, she started crying, and then she wouldn't talk to me."

"How did you say you learned of this?"

"This boy I know, he heard his sister talking about it, and she told him that Shirley is my girlfriend. He told me it was Brenda and her brother that were behind all the teasing, and the making fun of Shirley."

"This is the same Brenda that used to be your girlfriend, before you and Shirley?"

"Yes. She went away to school, but she came back, a few weeks ago. Gary, that's the boy's name, the one who told me about what they were doing to Shirley, he said that Brenda and Richard have gotten some of the other kids to say mean things, and to make fun of Shirley."

"Kenny, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it probably isn't all this Brenda's fault. Shirley has always been teased by some of the other children. It just comes with the territory when you're a girl who's as tall as Shirley is, and one who is also very slender. This is nothing new to her. I think she's mostly just upset because you found out about it. She's afraid you'll think less of her after you find out what some of the other kids think."

"That's crazy, Mrs. Jones. She knows I love her. Why would that change because of what some other people think?"

"I know that, you know that. Shirley needs to see that, and to understand that it wouldn't make any difference to you. I understand what she's going through. I felt the same way until after I met Ron. I was sure he was going to stop liking me, because of some of the comments people made in our presence. Some of them were even friends of his, and that's what scared me the most."

"Can I go back and talk to her?"

"I suppose so, but don't be too upset if she doesn't want to talk to you, or if she doesn't want you to see her like she is right now."

I went back and knocked on Shirley's bedroom door. As soon as I knocked, and called out her name, it got very quiet in her room. Before I had knocked, I could hear her crying, clearly. I started talking to her through the door, even before she said anything. I told her I wanted her to know that I loved her, and that I always would. I told her that I thought she was perfect, exactly like she was. I said, if I absolutely had to change something about her, I'd make her a little bit taller, tall enough so she would be a little bit taller than I was.

"Why would you want to do that?" I heard her ask me that question in a low and husky voice.

"Because I'd want you to know it wouldn't matter to me at all if you were taller than me. Does it bother you that I'm taller now?"

"You know it doesn't. That's what I first liked about you, that you were taller than me."

"Does that mean you would stop liking me if you shot past me by half an inch?"

"No, I'd still love you."

"How about if you were two inches taller? Would that matter?"

"Two inches? That's a lot. We would be starting to look funny when we stood together, if I was that much taller."

"I'd get those elevator shoes, and you'd have to wear flats or else stay barefoot. I couldn't stand it if I lost you, Shirley. Especially if it was just because you've got some silly idea in your head that your height is important to me. That might be important to you, or even to some of those cretins you go to school with, but it doesn't matter to me, not at all. I wouldn't care if you were a foot taller than me. I love you. Brenda was never even half as important to me as you are, and she knows it, and, that's why she's acting this way. I thought I loved her, but it was more like lust than any real love. I found that out with you, because with you, I have both. I love you, and I'm hot for that gorgeous body of your too. Speaking of that, weren't we going to go watch some television at my house today? I hope you weren't planning on trying to get out of all those promises you made? I'm expecting quite a workout from you.

"Not so loud, Kenny, my mom might hear you." I raised my voice, until it was just below shouting. "Shirley, it's time to come out of your room, so we can go over to my house, and I can ravish your sexy body again, on my big, king sized, bed." When she opened the door to make me be quiet, I grabbed her in my arms, and started kissing her all over her face and neck. I wouldn't release her as I kissed her, and tickled her too, at the same time. I was also making sure, while I found new places to tickle, that my hand found her breasts, and her pussy too. It took a couple more minutes, but she eventually stopped protesting, or trying to stop my roaming hands. By the time I felt her palm, searching for my dick, along the outside of my slacks, I knew she had gotten over her worry about how I'd react when I found out about her being teased at school. We almost went too far for us to stop, but only almost. Two things prevented it from going past almost. The first was me knowing that I hadn't brought any rubbers, and the second was when Ronnie, her brother, opened his bedroom door and stared at the two of us. Luckily, we were pressed too tightly together for him to see what our hands were doing. I'm pretty sure he had a good idea though, from having listened to us talking, not to mention us moaning, and bumping into the wall, repeatedly, for the past few minutes.

"Damn it Parsons, do you think a guy wants to be relaxing in his own bedroom, and have to listen to the two of you going at it out here in the hallway? If you do think that, let me tell you, you're dead wrong. And as for you, Shirley, Shirley, Bo Burly, I'm pretty certain that Dad wouldn't like it if he found out you were so hot for it that you couldn't wait even long enough to get over to the justly infamous Kenny Parsons love nest. There is such a thing as not being too obvious you know? It's a little hard to overlook the fact that you and Kenny are getting it on, especially if you insist on getting boned right out here in the hallway."

"Ronnie!!! We were just kissing." She was laughing though, probably relieved it was only her brother, Ronnie, instead of one of her parents, who were making that kind of comment to her. Ron was right too. We had been less than circumspect lately, at least when it came to disguising our physical intimacy. It was simply too good and fulfilling for us to want to try to hide it. We were being very careful, at least as far as pregnancy was concerned, though. Shirley had even asked her mother to let her get on birth control pills, but Mrs. Jones had told Shirley she'd needed to first get her father's permission. Shirley wasn't ready for that, not yet. I smiled over at Ron, but I made no comment. I wondered how I'd feel if I had a younger sister, and I knew for certain that her boyfriend was having sex with her.

"Mom, I'm going over to Kenny's for awhile. I'll phone you if I'm not going to be home to eat supper."

"Have you spoken with your father yet about that matter you asked me about?"

"No. I asked you, but I'm not going to ask him too. I don't know why you can't just help me get them. It's only so we can be safer."

"Shirley Mae Jones. You act like this isn't an important decision that your father should be made aware of. I won't take any steps to legitimize your actions without first having your father's full knowledge of it, and his permission. I'm already troubled by how far I've allowed this situation to get taken. If you are mature enough to want to have sex, you should be mature enough to sit down with your father, and discuss your reasoning, and your feelings for Kenny with him. You want to be an adult with your actions, so you'll have to be an adult when taking care of your responsibilities too."

"He won't understand. He'll make me stop seeing Kenny."

"You don't give your father the credit he deserves, Shirley. He loves you very much. Do you think he's so unaware that he doesn't see or know what you've been doing? He doesn't think it's his place to go to you with his concerns, but that's because he expects you, at some point, to go to him, and to confide in him, the same way you've done with me."

"Did the boys have to do that? I bet they didn't."

"The boys weren't going to get pregnant, and, so far at least, they haven't gotten anyone else pregnant. To answer your question though, yes, both our sons came to us and asked our advice about girls they were seeing. It is past time you show that same respect for your father. Both of us expect it from you."

"I'll go with you Shirley. You don't need to do it alone. This concerns both of us, equally. I'm not ashamed of loving you, or of us doing what we do." I meant it too. I didn't look forward to doing it, but Mrs. Jones was certainly right. If we thought we had the right to make love, there was no reason to try to hide that fact from the people who loved us the most. I was willing to be there, and to lend Shirley whatever emotional support she required.

"What about your parents, Kenny? Are they aware about the nature of your physical closeness to Shirley?"

"I'm sure they know, Mrs. Jones. They haven't said too much, other than my father had a talk with me about being responsible, and not doing anything that would cause Shirley or me to regret our actions. Mama knows, but she loves Shirley almost as much as I do. They have to know, because Shirley isn't very quiet." I got an elbow in the side from Shirley, and a nervous sounding laugh from Mrs. Jones for my last comment.

"Your father will be home for dinner tonight, Shirley, and you'll be here as well. Kenny, you're also invited. When I go to bed tonight, I expect all of this to be settled. If it isn't, for any reason, after tonight, I will expect the two of you to cease all sexual contact until it is. Do you understand me, Shirley?" Shirley nodded that she understood. "Kenny, I want your promise that you'll respect and obey me in this. No more sex after dinner tonight, not unless, or until, Mr. Jones has had a chance to discuss your past and future sexual activity with Shirley."

"All right. No more, but only after dinner right?"

"Yes, after dinner. I suggest you both go do what you've been doing already, so that I can relax and see to preparing our dinner tonight. Shirley, both your brothers will be out of the house for dinner tonight, so it will just be the four of us. That should make it easier for you."

We went over to my house and we tried making love, but Shirley couldn't get that aroused, and I was still worried about what was happening at the high school with Shirley. I really wanted to put an end to it, but I didn't know what I could do or say that would accomplish that. We did cuddle together, and we talked. I mostly listened while Shirley rehearsed what she was going to say to her father. I even tried to help her, offering several opening comments to break the ice with her dad. She rejected all my suggestions.

We left my house at five thirty, knowing that dinner at her house was served promptly at six. Mrs. Jones had prepared what she referred to as a simple meal, turkey pot pies. All of us knew that she had made everything from scratch, and it wasn't anything like the ones you got in the frozen food section at the grocers. These were delicious, and they were a lot larger than the grocery store ones also. I had gotten about three bites, before Shirley opened the main topic of conversation with her father.

"Daddy, Kenny needs to ask you something about us using birth control. He grew up in a Catholic orphanage and he has some pretty strange ideas about only using the Rhythm Method." Mr. Jones lowered his fork and looked first at Shirley, and then at me. "We were just wondering whether you wanted us to keep on the way we are, or if you thought we should add prayer, in addition to using the Rhythm Method, Daddy." Now, Mr. Jones was starting to look mad, and he was looking right at me as he started looking mad. What was Shirley thinking. I wasn't a Catholic. I always used rubbers. I was the one who first tried talking her into going on the pill, so we wouldn't have to worry about having an accident with one of the rubbers. Was she setting me up to be beaten to death? I knew my first reaction was to jump up, and run right out of their house. That was right before all three of them started laughing at me. "Oh God, Kenny. You should see the way your face looked when I said that about praying."

"That wasn't funny, Shirley. I thought he was going to get right up from the table and throttle me. I almost ran right out of here."

"This was Daddy's idea, Kenny. I talked to him about going on the pill, and he said you should have been braver, and come with me when I asked him. I started taking them, right after my last period got done."

"How come you were acting so funny then, over at my house? We wasted a really good opportunity." Shirley started blushing when I said that, and both her parents seemed like they were waiting for me to continue questioning her.

"What opportunity was that, Kenny?" Mr. Jones was just sitting there, his pot pie getting cold, obviously waiting for me to give him an explanation. I had gotten so caught up in being relieved that this birth control pill issue was resolved, I had forgotten who we were sitting down, and having dinner with.

"The wishbone, from our Thanksgiving turkey. Gerta told me it was dry enough now for us to make a wish on, but Shirley was too worried about what she was going to say to you. Now, Gerta and Hans will probably get to make the wish, instead of us."

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounded, Kenny?" Everyone was looking at me, waiting for me to say something else that would make me look even more ridiculous. I had to think fast. I needed to come up with something to satisfy him, and also something to get his attention enough to distract him, all at the same time.

"Did Dad tell you that Craig and David have come up with a new procedure for assembling the new vending machines? They're cranking out ten new ones a day right now, and think they can bring it up to twenty a day, by the first week of December. Dad says you're dragging your feet with the new salesmen."

"I told him I'd have the first ones ready by the first of the year, that's what we agreed on. I'm certainly not dragging my feet. He said he wanted quality people, and that's what's taking so much of my time. You must be mistaken about those numbers though, I was told to expect one hundred and fifty new machines a month. I've geared my recruiting and training schedule around that number."

"That was with the old way, and I'm not even counting the machines we're buying from David's father, which is another thirty a month, starting this month. The figure I heard when he was talking to Rob Lucas, was five new salespeople a month, beginning in December. I'm sure he said December, and not January. You know how my Dad gets when one part of the plan slows down all the other parts. I'm sure he's expecting five new people, trained and ready, on December first."

"That's not possible. I can't have anyone ready by then. How am I supposed to have five men trained in fewer than five days?"

"Do you want me to phone home, and ask Gerta if she and Hans have used that wishbone yet?"

"Where's your father? I need to speak with him, to get this cleared up. He told me January. I'm focused on January to put our first men into the field."

"I'm pretty sure he's in Omaha today, and maybe tomorrow too, meeting with Rob, and the five salespeople that are starting next month. These are people that Rob hired himself. People he's worked with in the past, and wanted to use for the new program."

"Those were the people you meant when you said he was expecting five new salespeople in December?" I nodded that it was... "What about what you said about him saying I was dragging my feet?"

"That's what he said, that you're dragging your feet with the new salesmen. He wants you to hire and train at least twelve new people a month. He told Rob that he'd make sure he had that many, if Rob could map out territories that fast, and if David and Craig can produce what they say they can. Dad said we should be placing five hundred new machines a month, even though we're only going to be making four hundred and fifty a month. He's worried that we won't get sufficient market share, not if we go slower than that. He's already told Craig to try to hire more new people, and to get their production up to twenty five a day. Dad also said, with the turnover in salespeople, he'd like to have fifteen new salespeople ready to go every month."

"Now it's fifteen? Why didn't he say something to me about this. I'm not comfortable working in a situation where the goals keep shifting and no one is keeping me informed."

"I think he's been a little embarrassed to tell you."

"Embarrassed? Why should he be embarrassed? He's the owner of the company."

"Well, you know, because he knows what I've been doing with Shirley."

"He knows? How does he know?"

"They all know. At my house I meant, not at the company."

"How do they all know? Have you been going around bragging about it?"

"Not me. Shirley has. Over at my house, she screams out our personal business to anybody who'll listen. In fact, even if you didn't want to know, you can't avoid, it unless you're deaf. She's very loud. My Aunt Clara's a nun, you remember, you met her at my birthday party? We have to be very sure she isn't visiting when Shirley's visiting too. You should hear some of the things Shirley will yell out when she's in the middle of having a big one."

"Is this supposed to be humor, Kenny? Because if it is, I'm not finding it amusing. Not in the slightest."

"That's too bad then. I came over here to give Shirley some support, while she spoke to you about something I honestly believed she was having difficulty with. You thought that was pretty funny then. I don't think you can have it both ways, Mr. Jones. I happen to love your daughter, and I'll do anything it takes to make things easier and better for her. That doesn't mean I'll sit still and be the butt of your humor. I enjoyed the pot pie, Mrs. Jones. Thank you for having me tonight for dinner. Shirley, I'd like to see you outside for a minute, if I may? Mr. Jones, thank you for the hospitality. I'm sorry if it didn't turn out to be all to your liking. I know we were both kidding around about birth control, and about Shirley's passionate nature, and I hope there isn't going to be any residual damage from that. I wasn't kidding about the fifteen new salespeople a month though. My father will be talking to you about it in a few days. I just thought, since Shirley and I are so close, that I'd give you some advance notice, so you'd be better prepared when he does speak to you about it." I could tell Mr. Jones wasn't happy. That was just fine with me, because I wasn't that happy either. I stood up then, and began walking towards the front door.

"Kenny, please don't leave like this. Ron was just having a little fun. My father put him through this years ago, and he wanted a chance to do it too. He really does like you, we all do. It was all innocent play. Somehow, it seems to have gotten out of hand." Mrs. Jones was standing too, as she said this, and began walking over to me, attempting to grab my arm, to try to bring me back to the dinner table again.

"Sit please, Kenny. Perhaps, you're right. Perhaps, I wasn't that amusing either. This all started out because I felt bad, about the fact that you hadn't come to me first, before you and Shirley started getting so serious. Any father always knows this day is going to come, as soon as he learns he has a daughter. I don't think any of us look forward to being around the man who will take our little girl's innocence away from her. I know it was a gift from Shirley, not something that you stole from her. Still, her coming to me with this pill business. I appreciate both of you showing good common sense in wanting to take measures to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. Her coming to me about this is her way of informing me that she has already become your lover. She's asking me to give you both my consent and approval to continue doing this. For a father, let me tell you, it isn't an easy thing to do. I'd have much rather she waited for a few more years, but parents don't get the luxury of deciding these things. If she was going to go ahead and do this, I'm glad it was with you. I am comforted, somewhat, because I really do think you honestly love her. To me, my little Shirley is absolutely precious. I won't threaten you, but I will beg you, please try not to hurt my little girl."

Then, Mr. Jones stood up, went over and helped a crying Shirley up from her chair. He hugged her, and then whispered something in her ear, something that caused her to stop crying long enough to start to giggle, he paused for a second or two, as if undecided about what to do, before leading her over to me, and placing her hand into mine. I took Shirley into my own arms and kissed her. A kiss that even her parents couldn't object to. When I stepped away from her, Mr. Jones had his own hand outstretched, offering it to me to be shaken. I took it, knowing that with that handshake, he and I had an understanding. After we got done shaking hands, Mrs. Jones came over and planted a kiss, first, on her daughter's cheek, and then another one, on mine. No one objected when Shirley and I walked out the front door, hand in hand. Once we got outside though, the real fireworks got started.

Apparently, Shirley wanted me to believe that she very upset with me over my mentioning to her father and mother that she got loud when in the throes of a tremendous orgasm. I told her that I had been a little upset that she had conspired, with both her parents, to set me up to be the butt of her father's humor.

"What did he whisper to you that made you stop crying, and start giggling?"

"He said my mother was a screamer too."

"You heard your father, didn't you? He gave me permission to ravish you at will. He didn't even say I needed to take you somewhere private to do it. I'm starting to get a little bit horny. Why don't you turn right around here and pull your dress up? I wonder how long he could stand it, hearing you yelling at me to stick my big cock right up into your belly, or asking me to fuck you until you turn blue, and die? I bet it wouldn't take too much of that before he'd come out here and take back his permission."

"I love you Kenny. I'd do that if it would really make you happy. After tonight, I feel a little bit like we're married, that now I'm more than just your girlfriend."

"You are. You're my best friend, my girlfriend, you're the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want you to come to me and let me know when people are doing things to make you feel bad. If it hurts you, it hurts me. That's why the thing you did with your father tonight upset me so much. I wanted you to see what it felt like when we do something like that to each other. I don't want us to ever take sides where one of us is against the other one, not even for a joke. I'm going to try to get this school thing straightened out before I go back to school on Wednesday. If Brenda and Richard want to hurt you, they're going to wind up being hurt a lot worse than you are by what they're doing." We were along the dark side of her house, the one in the overcast of dusk and shadow. We started kissing, and doing some touching. Now, for some strange reason, I could feel Shirley starting to respond. I guessed that she had been emotionally affected by her father's speech to me. It was getting late by then, and I needed to get home, because I was getting up early the next morning for a long driving session with Uncle Bunny. We both were trying to get me the needed hours of supervised driving so that I'd be able to get my license soon.

The next day, I mentioned to Uncle Bunny about Shirley being teased, and about Gary telling me about Richard and Brenda being the ones that were behind most of it. Uncle Bunny told me that he'd look into it for me. He also told me that it looked like Anne Coulter was making good progress, and would soon be able to return to Ridgeline. He was worried about Mildred having access to what was turning out to look like a nearly unlimited amount of vodka. He said all it would take is one or two drinks, and Anne would be right back where she was before they sent her away. He told me it would do no good for her to be dried out and counseled, not if she came home and got drunk the first day or so after she was back. He swore that Mildred must be producing the vodka herself, because Clara had already taken so much of it away from her, and still, everyday, the woman would be able to secure enough to get herself sloshed. It was a mystery to him and to Clara, about how she was able to manage it.

"Can you take her down to the jail, and have Mr. Dyer hold her there until she tells you where she's hiding it?"

"No, we can't do that, but I do have another idea now, about where we could take her. This is good, Kenny, thanks. I'll send her to this other sanitarium. Clara can sign her in. We'll tell her she can't come home until she tells us where she hides it. One thing's for damn sure, she won't get any booze in this place I'm thinking about."

By the time we were finished with me driving, Uncle Bunny and I both felt confident I'd be able to pass my driving test. Uncle Bunny told me to see if my Dad could take me the following day, from work. He signed off my hours affidavit, and I now had one and a half hours more than the state minimum to be able to take my test. If I could somehow manage to pass the driving test, I could drive myself back to school, the following day. There were several other students in 'Joke Hall' who had their own cars on campus. All you needed was written parental permission to have your car on campus, and adequate proof of insurance. I wouldn't have trouble with getting either of those two things, not if I could pass my driving test.

I talked to Dad that night, but he had a ton of meetings that he couldn't get out of. I didn't want to bother Mama with it. She was up to her elbows in the construction project for the golf center. I decided that I'd wait for another time. At dinner, Uncle Bunny and Elizabeth were over, as well as Shirley and Aunt Clara. Uncle Bunny had brought Aunt Clara, because he wanted to talk to her about putting Mildred into a sanitarium, and he didn't want Mildred around to hear them discussing it.

Uncle Bunny asked me at the dinner table whether I'd be able to take my driving test the next day. I told him I wouldn't, explaining about all of Dad's meetings at work. It was just too short of a notice for him to reschedule.

"I'll take you, Kenny. There's nothing I can't get out of. I'll have time in the morning if you'd like." I knew Mama was going to offer, because that's how she was. I also knew she already had more stuff to do than she was able to comfortably handle. I knew she had to go out and approve two layouts tomorrow, before the bulldozers went in and started moving a lot of dirt around. She needed a lot of dirt to build up areas, if she didn't want to wind up with a course that was completely flat. It was important that they get dirt moved out of the areas that needed removal, and over to the areas that were going to need to be built up a little. I reminded her of how important she said tomorrow was going to be for the project, and how excited she was that she'd be there to supervise them doing it. "Kenny, don't be silly, dear. You're my number one project. The golf center, that's something that I have a lot of interest in, but it isn't really that important to me. Tomorrow is a rite of passage for you. Your first driver's license. I've missed so many milestones in your life already, I don't want to miss another one. You come too, dear, it will be fun." She was looking at Shirley when she said this last part.

"Mama, I don't know what to say. Who's going to supervise the construction people? Uncle Bunny is going to be busy tomorrow."

"I'll have Hans go out there in my place. He knows as much about the project as I do. He spends more time going over those plans than I do. He's been an invaluable assistant to me. I was planning on having him with me tomorrow anyway. With him there, I'd just be a spectator, because he knows where every cubic yard of dirt needs to be taken. No, it's decided. We'll leave here at eight o'clock sharp. With any luck, we should be able to get it done and be back home in time for lunch. After lunch, we can all go out and see how the project is faring."

After dinner, Shirley excused herself, in order to telephone home, to make sure she had permission to travel with us to Bolling. Shirley had been in the car with me before, when I was the driver, but we had gotten permission, each time, from her parents, before doing so. When she came back to the dining room, she had a huge smile on her face.

"I can go tomorrow. I also asked my parents if it was all right if I slept here tonight, and guess what they said?"

"They probably asked you if Sister Clara was here tonight, right? I mean Aunt Clara, sorry Aunt Clara." Aunt Clara nodded, a puzzled look appearing on her face, she was undoubtedly wondering how she came to be a participant in our conversation. What did she care if we were having a guest sleep over? Uncle Bunny, Elizabeth, and my Dad all laughed.

"I hope they said yes, dear. We have all that extra room upstairs, now that Jane and Grace have gone away to college. It would make it ever so much more convenient if you spent the night here, and we could all share breakfast, before getting an early start." That was Mama stepping into the chasm, trying to salvage the conversation from my attempt to make a snappy reply, while, at the same time, sending a cautionary warning to Shirley.

"They said I could, but my father told me I had to be real considerate, Kenny, and try not scream too loudly every time you give me an orgasm." Shirley's face was beet red, but she was smiling at me in triumph. I saw that nervous look come back though, as she looked quickly around the table, to see what reaction her words had provoked. I was a little bit shocked, but not really too embarrassed. I knew, without any doubt, that I deserved it. What I'd said at her father's dinner table, a day earlier, had more than merited this retaliation from her.

"We'll just have to use a pillow then, Shirley, because you know how hard it is for you to control yourself when I'm really going to town on you." By now, Aunt Clara's face was also crimson, as was mine, and as was Shirley's. Uncle Bunny spoke up right away too.

"Elizabeth and I find that to be one of the advantages of living alone, we never need to worry about all the loud noises we make."

The whole time we'd been talking about this, Hans and Gerta were in the dining room, clearing away the dishes and serving bowls, and removing silverware from the table.

"Me, I just bite down on the blanket when Hans makes me have der orgasmus. For the very good ones though, I too will bury my face in the pillow, but only when I'm afraid I'm going to make the loud scream. Sometimes when Kenny is with Shirley, Hans claims that I sound like that. He only wishes this were true. Ha, I also wish it were true. Nobody can make a scream like Shirley can." Dad looked around the table. Only he, Mama, and Aunt Clara were not smiling about all of this. It had gone from being embarrassing, to just being absurd.

"You know, Thomas, I do hate to complain, especially at a time like this, but why am I the only one unable to join right in with this little group confession we seem to be having? Why aren't I remembering having done any of this yelling or screaming they keep talking about? We've all heard Kenny and Shirley up in Kenny's room. I can even remember a few times when Hans and Gerta were pretty loud, although it was a long time ago. As for you, Bunny, let's just say that Thomas and I have had more than ample evidence, in the past, of your abilities to elicit screams from your various lady friends. What I want to know, Thomas, is when you're going to make me scream like all these other women?"

Aunt Clara stood up. Her face was red, and her smile was rather wan, and even that wan expression seemed to me to be forced. She asked for directions to the restroom.

"You've embarrassed a guest in our home, Bertie. I can take a joke as well as the next man, but this was all completely uncalled for. This is a Catholic Nun we're speaking in front of by God. Besides, you know perfectly well that you've always preferred making love gently. How was I supposed to elicit that kind of reaction from you, when I'm trying to do my utmost not to jostle you, or move you around violently enough that you'll get one of those damn migraines that you're always complaining about?"

"Very well then, Thomas, if I'm understanding this explanation correctly, you're saying the only reason I haven't been screaming your name at the top of my lungs, and yelling out all sorts of off color, but encouraging things to you, like Shirley does for Kenny, is because you're just afraid that the violence of your lovemaking would induce a headache in me?"

"What other possible reason could there be, Bertie? Do you think me incapable in that department?"

"No, not incapable. I'm positive that you are quite capable of coitus. I think the correct word to describe your performance would be, uninspired."

"Uninspired? Is that what you think, that I'm not inspired? You mistake my being concerned for your safety, and my being considerate of your best interests, health wise, for my being uninspired? I've spent years of my life, Bertie, trying to act like a gentleman around you, careful always, to never offend your delicate sensibilities, and this is all the thanks I receive? Did you, perhaps, think to try to shame me with this complaint of yours? You better be very careful what you ask for, Bertie. One of these nights, I might surprise you, throwing off all my previous restraint. If I should do so, you're liable to get a huge surprise."

"Huge surprise, Thomas? Don't you think that's at least somewhat of an exaggeration? I could have accepted big surprise, or even large, but huge, I don't think so." I'd never known Mama to banter this way, or for my father to bring himself down to the level where we were now speaking. Seeing Aunt Clara returning, all of us stopped talking. Every eye in the dining room was on her.

"Don't you all dare look at me, I'm sure I don't have any testimony to give you on this particular subject." Everyone laughed, including me. I remembered though, being over in the nun's sleeping quarters once, standing right outside the door to her room, and hearing Aunt Clara making noises of her own, noises that I now recognized as being from a woman climaxing, and one who was definitely enjoying herself while doing so. It wasn't really my information to share though, and so I didn't. I felt better though, remembering that Sister Clara had been no stranger to passion, in spite of the vows she had taken. As a blood relative of hers, I found that thought to be very comforting.



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Chapter 32


It wasn't late yet, but Uncle Bunny, Elizabeth, and Aunt Clara had already left. We hadn't lingered around the dining room for much longer, not after our dinner conversation had gotten more than a little bit out of hand. Shirley had gotten in her retaliatory strike at me, but it hadn't been a clear knock out. She had struck, I had countered, and then, anyone who cared to, had jumped into the fray. I think all of us had enjoyed parts of it, but some had enjoyed it more than others. Mama, Gerta, and Uncle Bunny seemed to have enjoyed it the most, while Dad and Aunt Clara seemed less enthusiastic about how the meal and the subsequent dinner conversation had gone.

"Kenny, do you want to take Shirley up to your old room and get her settled in? We'll need to get an early start if we're to be back in time for lunch." I was surprised that Mama would specify where she expected Shirley to sleep. I stood up and nodded that I was ready to do so though. Shirley stood up as well. My parents had come into the library with us, after everyone else had left, and, we had all clustered around the television set, pretending an interest in a taped episode of Hill Street Blues. Mama's question was prompted really by her running out of patience, waiting for Shirley and I to retire for the night. In the twenty minutes my parents had been standing around the television set, Mama had contrived, by my actual count, to "accidentally" hip bump my father a minimum of fourteen times.

Shirley and I climbed the stairs together, bumping into each other a few times ourselves. When I headed right at the top of the stairs, she gave me a puzzled frown, but she still followed right behind me.

"Do you think she really expects me to sleep in a different room than you, Kenny?"

"She wouldn't have told me to take you up to this room if she didn't expect that, Shirley. Mama's funny sometimes. I don't think she'd be surprised if I came into your room later, or if you came into mine, but I'm pretty sure she expects us to sleep in different rooms tonight."

"But, I thought we'd get to sleep together tonight. I had to practically beg my mother to let me spend the night here."

"If it was up to me, we'd be sleeping together, but, this is Mama's house, and she wants us sleeping apart tonight."

"Would it be rude if I went back down and asked her if we could sleep together tonight? She already knows we're fucking. I really want us to sleep together. I'll even promise her we won't do anything, if she'll let us sleep together tonight."

"Listen, unless I really miss my guess, they'll be heading up here soon themselves. When they do, Mama won't be wanting to participate in any lengthy discussions with you. From what she was saying at dinner, and the way she was throwing her hip at Dad, she has her own plans, and I don't think she'll be worried too much about ours. You can stay out here, in your doorway, with me, and then we'll ask her about it when they come up to bed." That's what we did, standing there with the door open to my old room, talking and kissing, while we waited for my parents to pass by. We had less than ten minutes to wait before both of us heard them talking as they climbed the stairs.

"Kenny, why are you and Shirley still up? It's getting late." It was pretty easy to tell that Mama hadn't expected to run into Shirley and me, waiting there, out in the hallway.

"Shirley wanted to find out if you meant we couldn't sleep together tonight. She really had her heart set on sleeping with me tonight."

"Kenny, this puts me in an awkward position. Your father and I are about to retire. We'll be awakening before six, and will be coming downstairs before six forty five, for breakfast. This is Shirley's room tonight. In the morning, I'll be expecting her to come down for breakfast from this room. I won't be getting up, performing any bed checks, but I do expect that Shirley will sleep in the room we've prepared for her." Mama said good night to us, kissing me on my cheek, before she and Dad went off to their own suite of rooms. After they were gone, I looked at Shirley, and then I shrugged my shoulders. I had really been expecting Mama to tell us that final sleeping arrangements would be left up to us. I waited to say anything to Shirley until after Mama and Dad had both gone inside their suite.

"I wasn't expecting her to tell us that. I'm going to ask her why she wanted us sleeping apart, the next time we're alone together."

"That isn't what I heard, Kenny. It sounded like she was saying I should sleep in this room, but she didn't say for you not to come sleep in here with me."

"No, she wouldn't have said it the way she did, about the awkward position, and her performing bed checks. I know her, Shirley, and she is expecting us both to stay in separate rooms tonight."

"This isn't what I was expecting. Are you really sure she'd get upset?"

"I don't understand why she would be, but I'm almost completely certain of what she meant when she just spoke to us. Maybe my Dad said something to her. Maybe they were afraid we'd be too loud, and they needed to get a good night's rest. I don't think my Dad liked it when everyone was talking about making people scream from having sex. You heard what he said to my Mother."

We kissed a little more, before I went into the room with her, helping her to get undressed, before I tucked her safely in. We were both disappointed, but for different reasons. Shirley had wanted to sleep with me. I think it had something to do with her being able to cross off some of the few remaining things that Brenda and I had done together that she and I hadn't managed to accomplish yet. I was disappointed too, because I had gotten used to having a certain freedom of choice in things like this. Mama had practically thrown Brenda into my bed. Now though, for reasons I didn't understand, she was preventing me from sleeping with Shirley.

I had long thought that she had been encouraging me to have sex with whatever girl I could manage it with. There hadn't ever been a time when she had tried to discourage my having sex, although, it had mostly been Brenda that she had attempted to pair me off with. I had said my goodnights to Shirley, and was just coming out of my old bedroom, when Dad came rushing out of his and Mama's bedroom door. He was dressed in his bedroom slippers, his hair was mussed up, and he was wrapping the belt around the robe he was wearing when he came out. He hurried right by me, without speaking a single word, or even acknowledging that he was aware that I was standing right there, in front of him. He had a dark scowl on his face, so I gave him a wide berth as well. When he was like this, I could safely assume that he was fighting with Mama again.

I went to my own bedroom and went inside. Just as a precaution, and hoping to prevent any new problems, I threw the dead bolt on my door. No one was going to sneak into my bedroom while I was sleeping. I had set my alarm clock for six, but, when it went off, I didn't get up right away. I didn't often do that, because, when I did, I had a tendency to fall back asleep. It was the phone ringing that got me awakened again. It came at six forty five, with Gerta wanting to know if I'd be joining Shirley and my mother for breakfast. I told her I'd overslept, and that I was going to grab a quick shower, and would be downstairs before seven o'clock. It was actually five after seven when I came down, but Mama and Shirley were deep into a whispered conversation when I arrived in the kitchen, and didn't seem in any particular hurry to get on the road.

"Good morning. Did Dad leave already?"

"Good morning, Kenny. Yes, he was up and gone before I awakened at five. I'm afraid he wasn't amused by the dinner conversation last night. I tried to tell him it was all said in jest, but you know how sensitive he is to even implied criticism. I swear that man sulks more than any person I've ever known. I guess you slept well, Kenny? Shirley and I were just discussing how literal you are in interpreting what people say to you."

"Really? I thought I understood your meaning quite well last night. What was it that I misconstrued?"

"I never said you misconstrued, Kenny, you simply failed to correctly interpret the wiggle room that I was providing you two children. I accept a portion of the blame for that, but Shirley understood what I meant. I even emphasized Shirley's name when I spoke with you, telling you both I expected her to sleep in your old room. I never said you weren't allowed to sleep in there also."

"Shirley might believe what you're saying now, Mama, but I know you better than that. I've heard you too many times, to think I misinterpreted your meaning last night. You wanted us each in our separate rooms."

"Well, it doesn't matter today, does it? I may have been less clear than I meant to be, but, with your father standing right there, I couldn't very well give you both sanction to do as you pleased. There will be countless other opportunities for the two of you. We need to get moving now, Kenny, because today is a big day for you."

"You just didn't want to take any chances that Shirley would be screaming last night. You thought you had primed Dad's pump by issuing your challenge. You were afraid he might not want to attempt to compete. I guess it probably backfired on you. It probably made Dad mad, and he decided not to even try to do what all the rest of us were claiming we were able to do with our partners."

"Kenny, that's enough! Your father and I are hardly in a position to want or need to compete with anyone. We have a perfectly satisfactory private relationship together. I'm quite well taken care of in that regard."

"I saw him coming out of your rooms before I went to bed. He was really looking angry. He sure didn't look well taken care of."

It wasn't very noisy in my car driving over to Bolling. Mama sat in the back seat, and Shirley looked nervous and uncomfortable, riding in the front with me. I felt a little bad, because she and Mama had been getting along well when I finally came downstairs. I thought she was uncomfortable in the car, because of what I'd told her about not wanting the two of us to be on different sides in an argument where other people were involved. I decided I needed to rethink that, and to restate what I had really meant to say.

I managed to pass my driving test without any problem. I got marked down for turning right once, a little too sharply, and for being just a little late, braking behind another car that was stopped ahead of me at a stop sign. In spite of these two things, I still passed handily. I got my temporary unrestricted license, with a promise that my permanent license would be in my possession within three weeks. Mama was right, this was a milestone for me. It was a large step forward for me, one that drew me closer to the day I'd be fully grown, and an independent person. Now that I had my license, I wished I hadn't gotten Mama upset in the kitchen. Having this strain between us marred our celebration, and muted all the good feelings we should have been sharing together. As it was, everything was restrained, and we were all conscious that a lot of the joy had been removed from the occasion. I tried to think of some possible way to repair the damage I'd caused. After lunch, Shirley asked us to take her home before Mama and I drove out to the golf learning center construction site. The day hadn't been much fun for her, and the strain of trying not to take sides, was beginning to take it's toll on her nerves.

"Listen, Shirley, I'm sorry about last night, and I'm sorry about today too. I should have handled both a lot better. I'm going to make this up to you. I'll call you tonight after dinner." We kissed and hugged, but it wasn't the same. Both of us believed we had been right about what Mama had meant the night before. I was even a little bit more let down, now that I could see that Shirley was upset and uncomfortable too.

"Mama, I'm sorry for what I said about last night." I had just gotten back in my car after seeing Shirley to her door.

"I'm sorry too, dear. I was being silly. I thought I could use the passion you and Shirley display, to goad your father into rekindling something that has been missing with us for a long time. I should have realized I was trying to go about it the wrong way. He's never chosen to compete in that arena with Bunny, I don't know why I thought he might do so with you."

"You know he believes the key to success is in the preparation and planning. I could have told you the way you did things last night wasn't going to work. Uncle Bunny told me that Dad was a good boxer, but one who consistently overachieved, because he always went into a match with a well thought out strategy. Uncle Bunny said that Dad would convince himself, even before he stepped in the ring, that his opponent had no chance at all against him. He said it was Dad's absence of doubt that won him a lot of those fights, ones that would otherwise have been closer decisions, if not outright defeats. You need to make him believe there's no way he can possibly fail."

"How do I manage that?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure there's a way. I still think Dad believes he's a little bit outclassed, and over matched with you. He doesn't quite believe he deserves you." Mama started laughing, and then she stopped laughing, and her eyes began to look like she might just cry. "What? What's wrong, Mama?"

"At first, when I heard what you said, I thought it was funny, because I've always felt the same way about him, like I didn't really deserve him, that we'd have never gotten together as a couple, not if it hadn't been for my father and Bunny dangling so many incentives in front of him. After you finished though, I started thinking about how sad it would be if both of us had been operating, throughout our marriage, under the same, unfounded, fear. What a wasted opportunity, for both of us, if that should prove to be the reality of it. I've always felt he was disappointed in his bargain. It never even occurred to me that he thought I was disappointed in mine."

"It has occurred to Uncle Bunny. He's the one who got me thinking this way. We were talking once about why it's so difficult for Dad to admit he loves you. Uncle Bunny says it's because of Dad's perception of himself, that's it's based not on who he became, but on where he began."

"I refuse to subscribe to that assessment, Kenny. Thomas is now, and has always been, a real stuffed shirt, and a dandy. He puffs up and preens, as if he feels like he has no equals in this world. I doubt he would admit to even five men being his equal. With the exceptions of my father and Bunny, I've never seen him defer to anyone. And you, Kenny. It's really the most unexpected thing, but he seems to often defer to your opinions, even when it comes to business. I've found that remarkable, very remarkable."

We pulled up and parked, alongside the dirt road where the bulk of that day's earth moving was taking place. When we got out of the car, we saw Hans, standing up on a large earth mover, directing the placement of dirt, dirt that was being used to build up the first tee. Off to the left of where the first tee box was being raised, the ground had all been scraped and lowered, and a dozen men were setting the foundation frames for the first pouring for the lodge. Mama hadn't been kidding when she claimed that a lot of contouring and earth moving was going to be done on this site. She and Uncle Bunny had contracted for quite a bit of earth to be brought out to the site. Most of this dirt, they were being paid to accept. The whole state of Kansas might be pretty level, but Mama was determined that the golf learning center wasn't going to reflect that reality.



-------

Chapter 33

Mama had another one of her depressions right after I left to go back to school. It was immediately after my one week school break for Thanksgiving. When I got home that Friday evening, after having signed myself out, and driving home alone, Gerta told me it looked like this was going to be one of the really bad ones for Mama.

My dad had been staying up in Bolling, at our apartment there, supposedly because there was so much happening with the business, that he needed to save the one hour daily transit time for going to and coming from work. The reality, of course, was that he and Mama were in the middle of yet another one of their fights.

Shirley and her parents had driven over to Kansas City for the weekend. Mrs. Jones liked to paint porcelain plates, and there was some big craft show there, over that weekend, one she really wanted to attend. Mr. Jones and Shirley went along because there was a Chiefs game on Sunday, and Mr. Jones and Shirley were both rabid football fans. Jerry had been scheduled to come home with me for the weekend, but I explained about my mother not feeling well. After I promised to bring him back some of Gerta's baked goods, Jerry stopped most of his sulking. Both times previously that I'd brought him home with me, he'd spent most of his time in the kitchen, trying to talk Gerta out of extra snacks, and trying to get Hans to go into town to buy him some new men's magazines. Hans finally went into his own apartment, and brought Jerry about a dozen old Playboys that he had stored there.

I went up to see Mama, right after I got home, and we spent two hours together. She was weeping, but she was still able to communicate with me when I asked her direct questions. This was a very different presentation of her depression that I was seeing from Mama. Later, Gerta told me that she thought these kind of depressions were the worst kind, because they always lasted for the longest time. When I questioned Gerta about it, I found out that she equated bad depression with the length of time that Mama spent not eating. To me, Mama just seemed very sad this time, thinking negative thoughts about her life, and, especially, about her past. After eating with Hans and Gerta, I went back up to spend some more time with Mama.

By communicate, I didn't mean that Mama and I talked together. I spoke, and she would sometimes nod or shake her head, but it was communication. Mama wouldn't eat or drink, and, when I asked her if she had slept, she shook her head that she hadn't. I had been up there with her for more than an hour, when I just decided to phone my Dad over at the apartment in Bolling. He and I spoke for about twenty five minutes. I kept asking him about how things were going at work, and he would answer my questions. Mostly though he seemed preoccupied with the vending machine production increase, and with how the restaurant supply project was coming along.

Mama didn't change position much while I was on the phone with Dad. I held her hand in mine while I talked with him. I noticed one change in her, and that was that she made her weeping noise a little bit less loud. It was almost like she wanted to be quieter, so she could hear what Dad was saying to me. It must have been difficult, trying to hear through the receiver I was holding tightly to my ear. After I hung up, I talked to her about what Dad had said, and about how much work he was doing.

"I'm worried about Dad. At least, when he was home, we could make sure he stopped working long enough to get something to eat, and for him to get himself some rest before heading back to the office. I don't think he takes care of himself when he stays by himself up at the apartment. I think I'm going to drive over there tomorrow to see him, maybe get him to stop working long enough to take me to lunch or something. I think I'll go over to see Jane and Grace too, make sure they are both okay. I haven't seen the girls since Thanksgiving, and Jane was supposed to call me about this new driver she heard about. It's supposed to have a real advantage as far as driving distance. Jane said she heard it's about twenty yards more distance. I'd like to find out more about it."

Mama's face lifted up to look at mine, when I mentioned another twenty yards of driving distance. To a golfer, more distance off the tee, translated into lower scoring. There were always rumors making the rounds, about some new driver that was supposed to be either easier to hit and control, or else one that gave a lot more distance with the same swing you'd use with your regular driver. It usually proved not to be true, but that didn't stop new rumors from surfacing all the time.

I kissed Mama goodnight, and then let myself out of her room. When I got up in the morning, I went into her room to check on her and she was asleep. I went down to the kitchen and asked Gerta about that.

"Mama's asleep, does that mean she'd over being depressed?"

"Are you sure she's asleep? It's still too soon for her to be over this kind of a depression. Was she still crying when you saw her?"

"No. She was asleep. She was on her back, and she was snoring a little bit. When I was in with her last night, after dinner, I spent some time talking to Dad on the phone. I noticed then that she lowered the noise from her weeping. I think she was trying to hear what he was telling me."

"Well, if she is sleeping, I think that's a very good sign. She's usually hungry after she wakes up."

"Let her sleep as long as she wants to. I'm going over to Bolling to visit Jane and Grace, and to try to see if I can get Dad to take us out for lunch. I'll be back home later this afternoon."

The drive over to Bolling was easy. I was starting to feel more confident about driving places by myself. I got to the girls apartment just before nine thirty. They were surprised to see me, and they both looked like they had just woken up. Jane was still wearing her flannel nightgown. You couldn't see anything underneath it, but her big boobs were jiggling all around when she would make any movement at all. She and Grace liked to tease me about how I stared at Jane's chest, but anyone would have stared. It wasn't just me.

Over the past few months, the girls and I had sort of evolved into a kid brother, older sisters, kind of relationship. That didn't prevent them from teasing me though, and part of that teasing usually involved them trying to excite me enough to give me a hard on. It wasn't that hard for them to do, but they treated it like it was a major accomplishment. This time, Grace was telling me about how she was just getting ready to shave Jane's pussy when I knocked on their door. I know I was blushing when she first mentioned that, but when she asked me if I wanted to help her with it, I nearly panicked, wondering how I could ever explain doing something like that to Shirley. I wasn't planning on doing it, but I had a clear mental image of what it might look like. After they were finished laughing at me, about my panicked reaction, Jane gave me the name of the company that made the new driver she'd been talking to me about over Thanksgiving dinner.

I went over to my Dad's apartment as soon as I left the girls place. He was real surprised to see me, but he looked pleased too, like he was happy I'd taken the time to make a special effort to be with him. I had to work pretty hard to get him to agree to take me out to lunch though. He was working hard on preparing an application for the operating line of credit he was trying to set up for the company. Every new expansion we embarked on at the company would change all the numbers around. Each of these changes increased the amount that Dad thought we needed to fully exploit the opportunity the change presented to us. The more we expanded, the greater the opportunity. Dad always saw a lot of opportunities, and he always thought he might need more money in order to get the best performance out of them. His current proposal was for a six hundred million operating line. Since current value of our assets weren't that high, Dad was going to get Mama and Uncle Bunny to guarantee the first two hundred million. I wanted to see Mama's reaction when he presented this proposal to her for the first time.

We went over to the deli owned by Hans and Gerta's German friends, the Kleinsmith's, and each had a wonderful sandwich and a great pudding type dessert.

"How much longer are you going to stay mad at Mama?" I had waited until both of us were through with our sandwiches before starting to talk to him about his fight with Mama.

"I'm not mad at her, we just need a break from each other from time to time. This is just one of those times when we needed one."

"You two make a wound, and then think all you have to do is let a scab grow over it. You never get around to solving the real problems."

"We don't have any real problems to solve. We come from different places, and we look at things differently, because of that. That isn't a problem, that's a difference."

"Mama celebrates this difference by crying in her bedroom, and you celebrate it by burying yourself in your work. That sounds like a problem to me."

"You might choose to look at it that way, Kenny, but we've always managed fine, by doing it our way. I've told you before that your mother and I have a stronger marriage than almost all of our friends and business associates. We don't necessarily have to agree on everything, not as long as we agree on most of the really important things."

"It all comes back to the same problem with Mama. She doesn't think you love her."

"Kenny, we've had this conversation before. I already know your take on this. I don't happen to share your views. We like and respect each other, and we've built a strong union based on that foundation."

"You've built a strong union, and that's enough for you. All Mama's done is tried her best to settle for what you're willing to give her. When she gets too unhappy, she makes sure you aren't happy either."

"I am happy. There's absolutely nothing I'd change about our life together. We might not always appreciate all that we have together, but that doesn't change the fact that we have it. I can appreciate that, even if your mother cannot."

"So, you get about half of her, and she gets the same percentage of you? That's enough? You're really happy with it being like that?"

"I don't subscribe to that accounting, Kenny. It is far more than half. You believe in romantic love, in attaching emotional significance to everything. I'm more of a pragmatist. I have no need or desire to pretend that marriage is more than a partnership. In our partnership, we've both prospered and carved out a good life for ourselves."

"Okay, you've both had good lives. A few times you've suggested having Mama put away in an institution, because she likes to spend a few days a month hiding in her closet, but, I guess this is just part of that good life you and her have carved out?"

"Your mother suffered from depression long before I even met her. I've been assured it is an illness, a mental problem, one that she will always need to suffer through."

"I've heard that too, but I've also seen that people can affect the way she suffers through it. You, me, and Uncle Bunny, we can say or do things to help her when she gets depressed. She responds to us. She wants not to be sick, when we show her we care about her."

"I've seen almost no evidence of that being the case. I've spoken to her when she was despondent, but she simply ignored me."

"What did you tell her? Stop this, Bertie, we're going to be late? Snap out of it, now, you're an embarrassment?"

"Whatever I told her, it didn't have any effect. That's the important fact to remember. I've thought about what you said about my actions not being consistent with my stated position about not loving Bertie. I admit I'm very fond of her, perhaps even too fond, more fond than is wise for me. I've told her as much, often, in the recent past, in fact. That should be enough. It is certainly enough for me."

"Does she say she's fond of you too?"

"She's much more of an emotional person than I, Kenny. The word love doesn't mean the same to her as it does to me. She claims to love twenty people. She loves Hans and Gerta."

"I love them both too, and they love Mama and me, and Uncle Bunny. I was like you say you are, a year and a half ago, I didn't love anybody. You aren't like I was. I know you love both me and Uncle Bunny, but you love Mama more than the two of us put together. It doesn't bother me that you don't admit it to me or to Uncle Bunny, but not telling Mama that you do, that's just mean."

"How many people have you told that you love them, Kenny? I bet it's a lot. To you, it's just a word. Some of us have too much integrity to throw words around so loosely."

"Integrity is just a word too. Some people hide behind words. I've told seven people I love them, you, Mama, Uncle Bunny, Hans, Gerta, Brenda and Shirley. I'm sorry there haven't been more I wanted to tell it to. Is that too many?"

"I think each person sets their own standards. Perhaps it's simply a question of differing definitions. What you would call love might simply be something I'd call fondness. Nothing wrong with that, the two of us having different definitions for emotional words."

"I don't think you understand, but I don't want to get involved in some debate over semantics. You love Mama, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. Uncle Bunny knows you very well, and he thinks you love her too. The problem is, it doesn't matter what we think, it only matters what you think, and what you're willing to say to Mama. Before you say it to her, you need to really feel it, and understand it for what it is. No one can help you with it, so you need to find out how by yourself."

"I'll give the matter some thought. I'm not unaware of the fact that I've been altering the way I look at certain things. Perhaps it is time for me to do so. Your mother is changing also. It seems like she is more emotionally demanding than before. It's causing problems."

"Problems? I thought the two of you only had differences?"

"Differences then, but differences that could easily lead to problems. That dinner Sunday night, that's a prime example of what I mean. She deliberately baited me, making it seem like I had failed her in some way. She would never have done so before."

"Maybe she wasn't concerned with those kinds of experiences before. I have a theory that Mama is getting better. You both have been getting along great these past few months. She and I are getting along too, and she's just been happy. The more she starts to feel like she's normal, the more she's going to want all the things that normal people have."

"We've never lacked in that regard, no matter those comments of hers at the dinner table. Don't be misled by the comments she made the other night."

"No, she said as much to me after we got my driver's license. I think she meant that the passion was lacking. Bea told me you were selfish in bed though, that you didn't care about the other person."

"That isn't true. I do care. Bea was just too aggressive. She didn't just want to make love, she wanted us to devour each other."

"Yeah. She was good at it though. She really liked being licked. Then, when she'd cum, she'd squeeze her legs together so tight, you'd be afraid she was going to crush your head." Dad just looked at me when I said that. He looked like he had stepped in dog poop or something. I waited for him to speak, but he just kept that same expression on his face. "What did I say?"

"Kenny, Bea was a prostitute. One doesn't do those things with a prostitute."

"One does if one wants to keep getting one's dick sucked. She kept herself clean down there. She liked it a lot, and I liked doing it. Bea taught me a lot of things. I know Uncle Bunny licked her too. She told me herself that he was really good at doing that to her."

"Well, I don't care what Bea said. I'm not selfish, and your mother and I do quite well together in the bedroom."

"She never said you didn't do well together. She said she wondered why other people got to scream in bed, and she didn't."

"I heard what she said. Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, something about not wanting to handle her as rough as it would take, because of her headaches."

"That's what I said, and it's true."

"If she was my wife, and if I loved her, I'd make certain she knew I could make her scream. I'd prove it to her at least once, and I wouldn't care about how bad a headache she got from when I did it. Bea told me that women enjoy sex as much with their minds as with their bodies. She was the one that said a guy had to go all out, to show what he was capable of. After that, she said, the woman could get by on just the memory of that one great time. That would be the time the woman always remembered. It was the memory she'd turn to when she was getting herself all worked up, waiting for him to come back home to her."

"Your mother isn't just any woman, Kenny. She's a woman of culture and breeding. She appreciates a more refined seduction, not the caveman approach."

"And yet, wasn't it her we all heard wondering out loud when she would get her turn to yell and scream like Shirley did?"

"She was goading me. Sometimes, a woman will say things she doesn't mean, just because she knows it will have a desired effect on a man."

"I have my own idea about what her desired effect was, but you might be right. I did notice though, Bea was right about Brenda and Shirley. When I made them scream, they both could get all worked up a lot easier after, just by thinking about it, and remembering how I made them feel. It worked on me too. I think about them, remembering what we did. That's about all it takes."

"Kenny, at sixteen, you could see a stick, laying out alongside the road, and that's all it would take."

"Dad, what I meant was it takes a lot to do that for them the first time. With Shirley, it took a lot more than it did with Bea, Brenda, or Emily. It was well worth it though, because, when we do it now, most of the preparation is already done before we even start. That's what Bea meant, that women turn themselves on by remembering what the good things felt like. It makes sense then, to try to give them a powerful memory of how it could be with you, by really doing your best, at least one time. Even if it isn't the way you'd like to do it, it would be worth it, for all the time and trouble it would save you later."

"Are you saying things would be that much different between Bertie and me if I made her scream? Would that prevent all the fighting we now do?"

"I don't know if it would prevent it, but things would be different. You might have all the same fights that you normally would, but there would still be differences when you had them."

"Too vague. You're asking me to invest in this premise of yours, Kenny. I need concrete, tangible differences. What would have been changed about what occurred with us on Sunday night? Wouldn't I still leave the room just as angry?"

"If you had already really done your best once before, and made her feel so good that she lost all control and inhibitions, like Shirley sometimes does. It might very well happen that you'd leave just as mad as you did on Sunday night. The only difference might be that Mama would ask you to stay, and to have sex with her one more time, before you left."

"If I was as mad as I was on Sunday night, I'd refuse her request. I see no advantage from what you describe."

"If you had made her scream twenty or thirty times before, she might grab on tightly to your leg, and make you drag her along with you. All the while she was doing that, she'd be begging you to forgive her, and to come back inside her bedroom, so she could make it all up to you."

"I don't believe that."

"Bea told me about it. After I stopped doing things with her, she was always trying to get me to start up with her again. She said that sex happens because women talk themselves into it. Even when they know it probably isn't going to be anything special, if they've ever had it really good, they talk themselves into it. Bea thought that was funny."

"I've never observed behavior like that from women."

"I've watched you talking to Uncle Bunny and Mama about making money. You've made both of them so much money, they're like that with you about investments or making business changes. They keep remembering all those times you delivered those big profits to them. Do you even watch their faces when you talk about making a few million dollars? That's because you have a real good record with them. Sex is the same way, according to Bea. Success once, produces future anticipation of more, and even greater, success. She said women discover the power earlier, and they can get men to do all sorts of things when they use it. She said that women are more susceptible to the power though, because it impacts them on a deeper level. You should have learned all this stuff from Bea while she was here, Dad. Most of the stuff she taught me seems to work very well."

"Isn't using something like this unethical then? Bea certainly wouldn't have any qualms, but I like to think I'm above taking that sort of advantage of someone."

"What advantage? Is it taking advantage when you make Mama a better return than the bank offers her? The only advantage comes from making Mama feel like you really wanted her. I can't see anything unethical in that, unless you really don't want her."

"That brings up another question. Is this simply a matter of more physical exertion on the man's part, or is it some learned technique?"

"I have no idea. Bea told me to find out what they like, and then give them more of whatever that is. It isn't the same thing for all women. You must have a good idea of what Mama likes already, just do a lot more of that."

"I'm certain that won't work, because I've already tried that on her. Isn't there something else, something special, a secret you can share? You can't tell me that normal sex is enough to elicit the response you had from the young Jones girl. We were in the library, downstairs, and could understand a lot of the things she was saying to you. You don't hear things like that, and certainly not from one as young, and, presumably, inexperienced, as she is. Not just from normal sex."

"Shirley just gets excited, and the yelling of those things, that just adds to it for her. She says some of that, because it hurts her, but she doesn't want me to stop doing it. The yelling helps to block out some of the pain. Some of the things she says, she doesn't even remember that she said them. Normally, she's very calm inside, almost serene. That's probably why she likes to really cut loose and let herself go. Brenda was different. The more she liked it, the quieter, and calmer she became. Her eyes would get a little crazy though, like she wasn't really focused on anything."

"You say you're hurting her?"

"Shirley, you mean? She says it hurts her, and it also feels good at the same time. When I do her from the back, doggy style, it goes in deeper, and it hits against her cervix. She likes that, but only if she's already almost crazy from her other cums."

"I've heard enough, Kenny. There's simply no way I could ever bring myself to act that way around your mother."

"I doubt if she'd like that either. You'd need to get through to Mama by using her mind. Bea used to like it when I'd say dirty things to her, and tell her things I'd like to be doing to her. I tried that with Brenda and Shirley, but they didn't get anything out of it. Emily did a little, but I never screwed her, just licked her a few times. I'm only guessing, but I bet Mama would be more like Bea, and would like you talking to her. She likes it when you talk to her about making money, and she seemed to like it the other night when we talked about orgasms and screaming. I think she might like it if you tried talking to her. If one thing isn't working for me, I just try something else. When I see something's working, I just do more of that."

"I'll need to give this some thought. I'm almost caught up with things now, perhaps, I might come back home this afternoon, and we can go out tomorrow, for golf and some lunch after at the club. This was a good idea you had, getting out of that apartment and having a nice meal. I do have this terrible temper, Kenny, and I fear being around people when I get into one of my angry moods. I detest most confrontations. My mother loved them. I avoid them whenever possible. All of us hide, but I hide from myself."

"Dad, that's what most hiding is about. It doesn't matter how good you hide though, because your mind will always be right there with you. I used to hide in my mind, pretending that no one could come in to find me. It worked for a long time, because no one was really trying to come in and find me. Now that people do care, I can't hide very well anymore. I always want to be found."

"When I'm mad, it's better that I hide. Trust me, it is."

"Trust yourself, Dad, and you won't need to hide."

"What does that mean, trust yourself?"

"Start telling yourself the truth, even if you aren't ready to tell anyone else. You can't really hide from yourself. You can't make good decisions, if you're afraid to examine all your options. It doesn't matter what you decide, as long as it's something you have decided on completely. Try to find out what you've been hiding from yourself."

"I'll consider that advice as well. Anything else?"

"There's this person you've made yourself into, this Thomas Parsons guy. He's probably a lot more successful, financially, than Tommy Parsons ever dreamed he'd be, back in the past, when he was just a young, very ambitious, boy. He probably gave up a lot of who he really was, in order to become this Thomas Parsons guy. Now that you've succeeded, being Thomas Parsons, maybe you can go back and find this Tommy Parsons, to let him enjoy the things all your hard effort and skills have earned for you. There has to be more to our lives than simply trying to make a zillion dollars, Dad. When are you supposed to relax and enjoy your success?"

Dad stood up and went over to the counter to pay for our lunch. I didn't think I'd convinced him of anything, but I did believe he'd think about what I'd said. The truth was, I had no idea about whether I was reading him correctly or not. I knew he was starting to grow interested in the idea of changing himself a little. Like the rest of us, he wanted to be happy. One of the thoughts I'd had Sunday, at the dinner table, was that Dad was starting to see that other people were happier than he was.

I was also worried over the fact that the people who should have had the most reason for wanting him to be happy, hadn't really done anything to try to change him. Were Uncle Bunny and Mama afraid of tampering with their money making machine? If they were, then neither of them deserved him.



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Chapter 34

We didn't play any golf on Sunday. Mama was up and eating by the time Dad and I came home on Saturday. I quickly made myself scarce, making sure they had some privacy, so they could repair the latest tear in the fabric of their relationship. I went into town, driving around, looking for something to do to kill a part of a chilly afternoon.

I wound up over at the high school, watching a bunch of boys my own age playing basketball on the court set up outside. I'd never played any basketball, but I'd watched games on television. The game they were playing out on the playground was a lot different than what I'd previously seen. There was a lot more contact, for one thing, and most times, the play ended when the ball was thrown or kicked out of bounds. On television, all the passing was quick and smooth, and play usually ended when someone scored a basket, or went to the free throw line. The game I was now watching, looked a lot more interesting to me.

I watched from the relative warmth and comfort of my car for about fifteen minutes, before deciding to get out, and walk over, to get a closer look at the action. There were ten boys playing on the court, and another six or seven boys, waiting around, to take their turn. One of the boys I recognized, it was Gary Carstairs. I hadn't recognized him earlier, because he was sitting down on the ground, perched on a basketball, watching the other boys play.

"Hi, Gary." He turned around, to see who was calling him. I could see he was surprised to see me standing there.

"Oh, hey, Kenny. What's going on?" He turned his head back to the game, as I did, watching as two of the boys had gotten into a pushing and shouting match, over one of the them feeling like the other one was deliberately fouling him. Tempers flared, and then, just as quickly, they subsided again, and play was resumed.

"This isn't much like the games I've watched on TV. These guys aren't very good."

"They're all pretty good by me. I mean they aren't pro's or anything, but, they're all better than I am."

"You're taller though. How danged tall are you now, Gary? I'm six one, and you look a lot taller than me." Gary stood up. I knew he was either twelve, or, possibly had turned thirteen. He was at least three inches taller than I was. He was still very thin though. I doubted he weighed more than about one twenty five, or one thirty at the most. He reached down and picked up his basketball with one hand.

"I've got to get back home. We're supposed to go out to the club tonight, for the dance. I wish they wouldn't keep dragging me out there. I hate it."

"I'm leaving too. I was just riding around, killing some time. You want a ride?" He nodded that he did, and we walked back over to my car.

"Is this yours, or your parents?"

"It's mine. I got it for my birthday, but I only got my real license a week ago. I can drive myself to school now."

"You're lucky. I wish I was older. Being so tall, people always think I'm older than thirteen. I'm treated like a freak in my school, but when I try to play with the high school kids, they think I'm some kind of "Spaz" because I don't have much coordination yet. I wish I could just skip right past all this growing up stage, and be like twenty one already. I hate not knowing when I'm going to quit growing."

"Well, when you do stop growing, you already know you're going to be tall. I'd much rather be too tall than too short." We left it at that, and I pulled up into his driveway. The first thing I noticed was that their dog, Brownie, was still chained up in his usual spot. The second thing I noticed was that Emily was standing out on her front steps trying to see who was pulling into her driveway. Just before Gary reached for the handle to let himself out, I thanked him for calling me to let me know about what was happening to Shirley. He blushed at my expressing thanks, and nodded his head as he opened the door and stepped out of my car.

I almost made it out of their driveway before Emily intercepted me. I could see that she had finally realized who it was bringing her brother home, because she yelled out my name, and started running down to where my car was. She came right over to my side and stood there, yelling for me to pull down my window. I hit the power window button and watched as my window slid down.

"Kenny! I couldn't tell it was you at first. Your hair is so much longer now, and you look bigger." I didn't say anything to her. I was trying to figure out how I wanted to act around her. It had been a few months now since her phone call, the one that had altered my whole life. Part of me was still mad at her, disappointed with the choice she had made, with the reason that was behind the choice. There was the further complication that it was possible that Emily was my real half sister, and Gary my real half brother. "You aren't still upset with me, are you?"

"Hi, Emily. I don't know what I am at you. I ran into Gary at the high school, and offered him a lift home. So, how have you been?"

"You don't want me to get started on all of that. I hate my life, let's just let it go at that."

"Okay. I've got to go. Nice seeing you again."

"Wait, we didn't get a chance to talk! Nobody gets a chance to see you anymore. I missed talking to you. I wish you'd just stop being mad at me, and be my friend again."

"I'm sorry, Emily. I don't feel like being your friend right now. The last time, when I thought I was your friend, you didn't treat me that way." I put my car into reverse, but Emily came forward and put her hand on my window.

"Kenny! I've apologized for that already. I wish I'd never made that call, or told you about it. I thought I was doing you a favor when I told you. Okay, I told you because I wanted Brenda for myself, but, I still thought you should know what she was doing. It wasn't only just for me. I liked you too, and I knew you'd find out sooner or later, and you'd be hurt a lot more if it was later. You should give me a little credit for worrying about you." I hadn't really considered that aspect of it, that part of her reason might have been to help me. It didn't change things, but, it did mitigate them a little. I knew, as soon as she said it, that my finding out about Brenda and Gary later would have been a lot worse for me. As bad as it had been, I wasn't sure I'd have been able to get over a deeper wound from Brenda's cheating, and then, lying to me about it.

"Emily, I already told you I wasn't mad because you told me. It was why you told me. You betrayed two friendships when you did that. I admit, now, that I'm happy that you told me about Brenda and Gary. I just wish you hadn't done so for the reason that you did."

"Brenda's punished me enough for both of you. She treats me really bad, and she hasn't let me even get close enough to touch her, ever since that day I told you. She told everybody in school that I'm a big lezzie too. I'm not. Brenda is the only girl I ever felt like that about."

"I've got to go. Let me think about this. I've got a nice girlfriend now, and I don't think she'd want me associating with any of Brenda's friends. Even if you aren't Brenda's friend now, Shirley knows about you, and the stuff the three of us all did together. Shirley is the most important person in my life right now, and I'm not going to do anything to ruin that." I could see that Emily was disappointed at my words. I guess she thought, because I listened to her, that I'd do what she wanted me to.

I'd think about things, not so much because of what Emily wanted, or what she had said. I needed to find out first if she was my half sister. Anne Coulter didn't know. From what she said, he was only one of seven or eight possibles. She hadn't even admitted that she had sex with Emily's father. I was tall though, and Gary was even taller than me. I knew that didn't prove anything. By that criteria, it was more likely that Shirley's father was my real father, and Gary's too, because Gary was already taller than Mr. Carstairs.

When I got back home, Mama and Dad were upstairs together. I didn't hear any yelling though. I ate dinner with my family, and when they went back upstairs, right after dinner, I started getting restless. It occurred to me that I had organized my whole life around school, Shirley, and my family. I didn't really have any other friends now. With Shirley gone, and Mama and Dad busy making up, I had no one close, other than Gerta and Hans, that I could spend time with. I went into the kitchen, but Gerta and Hans were in a hurry to finish cleaning up. They told me they were going out to visit some of their friends. Scratch them off my short list too. Saturday night and nothing to do, nowhere to go. That's when I got the idea to go out to the dance at the club. I was already bored, at least the club would have people, music, and the possibility of something that wasn't boring.

I went to the phone and called Uncle Bunny, but no one answered. It was almost eight o'clock. Maybe he and Elizabeth had already gone to the club. I hurried up to my room and showered and got ready. It was almost nine before I pulled into the parking lot at the club. When I walked into the dance, it was pretty dark, and I had trouble seeing well enough to look at all the people in attendance. I did see the Carstairs family though, and I also saw Richard and Emily sitting at a table. I looked out at the dancers, and found Mr. and Mrs. Connor out there, dancing together. It took me five more minutes before I was certain that Uncle Bunny wasn't at the club dance. I briefly considered the idea of leaving.

I went over to the bar and bought a Coke. A dollar, just for a small glass of Coke. There was a machine down the stairs that sold twelve ounce cans for fifty cents. I paid the dollar, but I didn't leave a tip. It wasn't the bartender's fault, but that was a rip off. I found an empty two person table, and sat down to watch. It was the usual crowd, and there were a lot more people sitting and talking, than people actually dancing. I had already decided that I wasn't going to be dancing. Five minutes after I sat down, Brenda came over and plopped herself down in the other chair. She had a big smile on her face. I think she was hoping I'd think her being there with me was acceptable, or that I wouldn't make a scene.

"Hi, Kenny, remember me?" I just looked at her, trying to keep a neutral expression on my face, careful not to say anything to her. "I like the way you've let your hair grow. It really makes you look sexier. Not that you needed any help with that. Come dance with me, Kenny."

"Excuse me, Brenda. I need to use the restroom." I got up and walked away. I felt a little bit drained, just from that short time sitting close to her. I felt a little ashamed of myself for having such a reaction to her, and guilty too. I told myself it was simply a physical reaction, probably a conditioned response. As nonchalantly as I could manage it, I adjusted my hard on in my slacks. One minute sitting in front of me, and she already had me playing pocket pool in my trousers. As I was washing my face and hands in the sink, I tried to think about all the bad things about Brenda. That helped, and I was feeling a little better when Richard walked into the men's room. He must have seen me come in there. It surprised me a little that he would come in after me. If he wanted to start something, the club should have been the last place he'd pick.

"My old man sent me in here to give you a message, Parsons. Keep your filthy hands off of Brenda. He likes it better now that you're not in the picture with her."

"Tell him that he and I want the same thing. I didn't come looking for her. Why don't you try to keep her away from me?"

"Don't try to dance with her."

"Richard, I'd sooner ask you to dance with me, and we both know I can't stand you." I moved past him, half expecting him to jump me and try to start something. I was about four inches taller than him now, and about even with him in weight. He hadn't done too well fighting me, back when we were the same height, and he outweighed me by thirty pounds or more. He didn't try anything. When I got back to my little table, Brenda was gone, and both her parents had her sitting between them. They were apparently speaking to her in stereo. I watched as both parents seemed to be berating her.

I was drinking my Coke slowly, not wanting it to look like I had been rushed into leaving by the Connors. As soon as I was finished though, I was planning to get up and leave. At home, I might be bored, but I wasn't in any danger of getting myself into trouble. At the club that night, I most certainly was.

If Emily had waited two more minutes, before coming over, and sitting in the chair Brenda had vacated, I'd have finished my Coke, and made my escape. Two more minutes was all I needed. Of course, if she had waited, I wouldn't be writing about what happened to us. She came over and sat down. I had noticed, earlier in the day, when I dropped Gary off, that Emily had really sprouted out in the breast department. The dress she was wearing at the dance that night, was designed to make this recent development even more noticeable and obvious. I noticed, but, unlike with Brenda, I didn't have any strong physical reaction to her.

"Hi, Kenny. Will you dance with me? Please? Just one dance, and I'll go back to my own table. I promise I won't bother you any more."

"I was just getting ready to leave, Emily. I just came by trying to find my Uncle, but he's not here tonight."

"Please, Kenny. There's kids here from school, and I told you the rumors Brenda's been spreading about me. If you got up and danced with me, after not dancing with Brenda, that would really help me a lot."

It didn't seem like that big of a deal. One dance. After it was over, I could walk Emily back to her table, and then just keep on walking, down the stairs, and out to my car. What possible harm could come from any of that? I stood up and held out my hand. We had just made it out to the dance floor, when a flash of green came moving right by me at lightning speed, and tackled Emily to the floor. It was Brenda of course, and she was apparently biting, hair pulling, scratching, and eye gouging mad. She was also screaming loudly into Emily's face while she did all of the above mentioned mayhem to her. I quickly reached down, attempting to separate the two combatants.

Somehow, my left hand settled on Brenda's left breast, when I lifted her straight up, off of Emily. That is what Mr. Connor noticed when he came running after Brenda. He punched me in the face, causing me to release my hold on Brenda as I was on my own way down to the floor. I was stunned by the force of the blow, but, surprisingly, unhurt by it. Catching the heel of Richard's shoe, right in the front of my forehead, quickly remedied that unhurt condition. I vaguely remember seeing a grinning Richard standing over me, but then, everything faded away, and I lost consciousness.

I was only knocked out for a few minutes, and, by the time the ambulance arrived, all I wanted was to get in my car and drive myself home. My head really hurt, and there was a cut on my forehead, right where the back of Richard's heel had contacted my head with such force that he'd torn through my skin there. Over my protests, the ambulance people insisted on taking me to the hospital, to get checked out by a doctor. They wouldn't even allow me to get up and walk out to the waiting ambulance. They put me on one of those stretchers that roll, and then they lifted it up, and carried me down the long flight of stairs. This whole time, while they were doing this, people were all coming around us, to take a look at me, wanting to see the blood, and the red welt forming on my forehead. I didn't much care for them doing any of that, but was in no position to stop them.

I wasn't at the hospital for more than five minutes, before Mama and Dad came rushing in. Mama was crying, and Dad looked really angry. Someone had called them from the country club, to tell them what had happened to me, and where they were taking me. It took the doctor about three minutes to convince Mama to leave me alone long enough for him to finish with the delicate stitching he was doing on my forehead. He had told me, at least five times already, that he was only stitching me to reduce the scarring that would occur. Hearing him talk about scarring sent Mama into a stronger fit of crying. I heard Dad say something. It sounded like he said Richard and Mr. Connor were going to prison for doing that to me.

"Dad, it looked bad to Mr. Connor. It looked to him like I was playing with Brenda's boob." Mama stopped crying, immediately.

"Did you patch it up with her, Kenny?" The way she asked that, I could tell that she hoped my answer would be yes.

"No! Mama, you need to give up on that idea. Brenda had tackled Emily when she and I were going to start dancing. They were fighting, and I lifted Brenda away from Emily, trying to separate them. When I grabbed her, I wasn't paying that much attention to where, but one of my hands was over one of her breasts, so Mr. Connor saw that, and he punched me. It knocked me down, and then, after that, Richard kicked me really hard, right in my head. I don't remember too much else, until just before the ambulance people came to get me. My car is still out at the club."

Dad spoke then. "Don't worry about your car. I'll have Hans run me out to get it for you in the morning. I tried calling Bunny, to let him know we need him, but he isn't at home. Walt and Richard have been arrested, and Walt's filed a counter complaint against you, for assaulting Brenda. We need to speak with Bunny, before we do anything. Walt had no business punching you. You're still a child. He's going to be damn sorry he ever laid a finger on you, Kenny, damn sorry. As for that son of his, that coward son of his, I'll see him in the state reform school for this. It takes a real coward to wait and attack someone when he's down, and he doesn't even know it's coming."

The doctor had finished stitching up the cut from the heel print. They had admitted me into the hospital, while the doctor was treating me, they said they were keeping me overnight, for observation. I would have rather gone home, but they didn't care what I wanted. They wheeled me back to my assigned room, telling both my parents that they had to leave, in order to let me get some rest. I couldn't sleep, so I played everything back again in my mind. I was worried about how all of this would look, and sound, to Shirley. I hadn't done anything wrong, but it still sounded bad, even to me, when I had tried to explain what happened to my parents. I could already hear the questions Shirley would be asking me. When I thought about the answers I'd give her, I wasn't optimistic about the outcome. Maybe, if this had all revolved around two other girls, but because it was Emily and Brenda, Shirley would be less likely to believe me when I told her how innocently it had all begun.

I don't want it to sound like Shirley was overly jealous or suspicious, because she really wasn't. She was curious though, and she was really good at asking initial questions, and even better at follow up questions. She was going to ask me what my reactions had been when Brenda came over to my table, and why I decided to dance with Emily anyway. I had tried to make it a point to be open and honest with Shirley. I thought it was the right thing to do, and I also didn't want to be lying to her, or taking any chance at all that she'd find out about me lying, later. I already knew what being lied to, by someone you loved and trusted, felt like. I sure didn't want to expose Shirley to that. I finally decided that I'd tell Shirley everything, and not wait for her to drag it out of me with her carefully crafted questions. I was innocent of everything, except, possibly, lacking good judgment.

That settled, I turned my thoughts to the Connor family. I was a little tempted to give Mr. Connor a pass, for his hitting me that one punch. It must have looked bad to him, just minutes after sending Richard in to warn me about leaving Brenda alone, to see me with my hand all over her titty like that. He had hit me, but it really hadn't hurt much at all. In a way, it was kind of funny, the way it must have looked to him being so different from the way it actually was. I hoped Shirley would see it the same way I did.

Richard Connor. I'd known him for a year and a half, and I'd liked him for less than five minutes of that time. I'd long since given up on any thought that I'd ever like him. He just wasn't someone I could ever like. It was funny too, because he affected me in exactly the opposite way Brenda did. Instant hate versus instant like. What he'd done was really chicken shit, just like my Dad had said it was. I couldn't let him get away with it. I had to do something. Having him go to court and wind up in reform school though, that didn't appeal to me. What I really wanted to do was to get him alone somewhere, and then beat on him until I knew he would think twice about ever wanting to come near me again. Richard didn't seem to learn or profit from his experiences with me though. He probably wouldn't learn a lesson, not even if I beat him a lot worse than he had beaten me with his kick. I fell asleep finally, still trying to decide what I should do about Richard.

When they released me from the hospital on Sunday, around noon, Dad and Uncle Bunny took me down to the town constable's office to see Mr. Dyer. When we got there, I found out that Mr. Dyer was a small man, about the same age as my Dad and Uncle Bunny. He was wearing a western shirt, jeans, cowboy boots and an old, black, cowboy hat. He didn't look at all like I'd pictured him. Uncle Bunny did the talking to start things off.

"Ken, this is Kenny Parsons, my nephew and client. Kenny this is Ken Dyer. Mr. Dyer is the investigating officer, looking into the charge of assault that Brenda, Walt and Georgia Connor filed against you last night. He needs to ask you some questions, and you need to wait, after he asks these questions, to see if it's all right for you to answer them. Do you understand?"

"Sure, I understand, Uncle Bunny. I didn't assault Brenda. I was trying to break up the fight, that's all."

"Kenny, maybe it would be best if you just started at the beginning, telling me what actually happened out there last night. I've heard from all the Connors already. I've spoken with the Carstairs girl, and with several eye witnesses. Bunny, I know what you're worried about, but I give you my word, I'll strike anything from the record he says that you feel he shouldn't have said, and wouldn't have, if his lawyer had heard me asking him a question about it." Uncle Bunny just nodded to me that it was okay.

I told him everything, going back to earlier in the day when I first spoke to Emily, and even before that, telling him about Gary mentioning he had to go out to the country club dance. It took me about twenty minutes to tell him everything, and to describe what I remembered, from the time that Brenda came running over and tackled Emily, until Richard kicked me and knocked me unconscious. As soon as I stopped talking, he started asking me questions.

"Did you grab her breast on purpose, or was it an innocent accident?"

"I just grabbed her, I never even thought about where I grabbed her until I began lifting her off of Emily. I didn't want to touch her there. I wanted her to stop beating on Emily, that's all."

"Richard Connor is alleging that you punched him twice in the men's room, and that his striking you was in retaliation for that."

"Richard's a coward and a liar. He wouldn't have the courage to face me if he and I were both standing. I never touched him in the bathroom. His father sent him in to tell me to stay away from Brenda. I told him that his dad and I both wanted the same thing. Neither of us touched the other one."

"Were there any possible witnesses in the room with the two of you? Anyone that might have seen or heard you two talking?"

"I don't think so. I don't remember anyone else. Did Brenda say I felt her up like that on purpose?"

"No. She actually said she didn't think it was deliberate. In fact she made a comment that she wished it had been. She signed her statement for the complaint, but all it said was that you lifted her off of Miss Carstairs, and that she suffered no bodily harm as a result of your handling of her. I don't really have any further questions of your client, Bunny. I'd really prefer that you drop your complaint about Walt, and he drop his about Kenny. I doubt that either complaint would be prosecuted. Kenny admits that Walt had reason to think he was assaulting his daughter. Both of your families have a long history together. Richard's a different story now. I think we'll just run him through youth court and saddle him with a couple of years of probation. That boy needs to learn he can't do what he did, and then go around telling us a bunch of lies to keep himself from being accountable for his actions."

Uncle Bunny spoke then. "Ken, Tommy and I both decided to withdraw all charges against Walt and Richard. We're prepared to deal with Richard in our own way. Before we do that though, we want the two of them to come out here and apologize to Kenny. Are they both still in custody?"

"Yep, same cell. First father son team I've had locked up since they put in the new cells, two years ago. I'll bring them both out here, but only if they agree to come. Have I got your word that there won't be any more fisticuffs? I don't want to have to arrest all of you now."

"Ken, just go get them. We aren't planning anything physical with them."

We waited about five minutes before Mr. Dyer returned with Mr. Connor and Richard. Mr. Connor looked angry still, but Richard looked scared. They stayed over by the door. The three from our family were in the middle of the room, only about ten feet separated us from them.

"Walt, Richard, Kenny's family has agreed to not press charges against you, and to let this matter drop, if you'll apologize to Kenny for your attack on him."

"We didn't say we'd let the matter drop, Ken. We said we'd withdraw our criminal charges if they apologize to Kenny. There's a big difference. We don't intend to let this drop, not by any stretch of the imagination." Uncle Bunny sounded as angry as I'd ever heard him, and Dad stood behind him, nodding his head that he agreed with Uncle Bunny.

"If either of you touch me or my son, I'll see to it that you'll regret it." Mr. Connor said that, but his words sounded frightened, rather than angry. He was starting to look as worried as Richard looked.

Dad spoke then. "You've got less than a minute to apologize to Kenny, Walt. After that, you can take your chances in court. I think you should know that your company is finished as a supplier to our company. I've told you before that you couldn't go around attacking me, or my family, and still expect to stay in business. You didn't listen. The only reason I'm not filing a civil suit against you is that I know you're already mortgaged to the hilt, and you won't have a thing left by the time we could get a judgment against you. Now you either apologize or not, it's all up to you about how much trouble you want to be in."

"What about Kenny, Dyer, are you just going to let him get away scot free, after what he did to my Brenda?"

"He said it was an accident and I believe him. Your own daughter said the same thing. You better either get your ass in gear and apologize to this boy, Connor, or else call a lawyer and let him know what charges, you, and this miserable liar of a son of yours, are facing. I'm all done listening to both of you about this matter. Either shit, or get off the damn pot."

"I don't need an apology from either of them. They wouldn't mean it anyway. Richard, you better hide the next few times you see me, because if you don't and I see you, I'm going to make you wish you'd never been born. Mr. Connor, I'm sorry that I accidentally grabbed Brenda there. I didn't mean to, honest. I want to stay as far away from her as I possibly can. I know how it must have looked to you, and that's why I'm not angry about you hitting me. I figure it was an honest mistake. So far, I've seen my Dad and Uncle Bunny both knock you right on your ass. You ever lay another hand on me, I'm going to put you on your ass too." I had had my fill of all the Connor family. I meant what I'd said to Mr. Connor too. He had gotten the last free shot at me.

Constable Dyer took them both back to their cell, asking us to wait in his office until he got back. It took him only about three minutes to get back. "Bunny, I'm keeping both of them until I can take them in to be arraigned on Monday. I don't really need Kenny's testimony to convict Richard in a youth court. He'll convict himself with his lies and his rotten attitude. I'll probably have to let Walt go after arraignment, because the prosecutor will want to kick that case out. Bunny, I've been doing this for a lot of years, and I'm telling you, Richard needs something like this, or else he's going to turn out bad."

"Ken, I don't disagree with what you said about Richard needing a wake up call, but not this way. Tommy and I already have a plan in mind for him. I'm asking you to trust us, and to turn both of them loose."

"Is that what you want too, Spike?" I whipped my head around to see if Dad would answer to that name. Spike, now that's what I'd call a real nickname.

"Yes, and how many times have I asked you not to call me that? We aren't seven years old any more." Dad was smiling though. He'd told me before that he and Mr. Dyer had been friends since they were little kids. I had to remember to ask him about how he got to be nicknamed Spike.

"All right, but I hope you both know what you're doing, for that kid's sake. He's only one or two incidents away from ruining his whole future."

"Thanks, Ken. You should probably wait until we're gone before you let them go. Warn them both about staying away from Kenny, my office, or either of our houses." Uncle Bunny seemed relaxed again.

"Bunny, it's really none of my business, but I hope none of this has anything to do with you and a certain, unnamed, married lady. I'm already sitting on some information I don't feel too comfortable about sitting on. If what happened last night has anything to do with that other matter, it could get very unpleasant for a few of us."

"Ken, you have my word that last night had nothing to do with the shooting. This is still a family matter though, and that's how we want to handle it."

"If you say so, Bunny. Sometime we've got to all sit down together, over drinks, and you can explain to me how you're related to Walt and Georgia. I know both their families, hoss, and you aren't in either of them."

"Ken, if I say they're family, that makes them family. Simple as that. I'm related to members of the Connor family, and that's all you need to know. Well, there is one other thing you need to know, and that is that Mike Turner has decided not to stand against you in the next election. You'll just have to run unopposed. That should save you some money on the cost of re-election. Even unopposed though, I doubt you'll be able to get more than three hundred votes."

"Shows what you know, Bunny, I got three hundred and seven last election, and I had me some stiff opposition."

"True, but last time, you had Walt and Georgia's support, and all of the country club crowd. They only turned out to vote because they didn't want someone they didn't know being the constable. If you're unopposed, they aren't going to bother to vote. Cheer up though, the last election you only won by six votes, this time, you'll probably get over eighty percent, a real landslide."

"Why won't I get all the votes? Especially after Mike pulls out."

Because at least twenty per cent of the voters hate you, and they'll write in other people's names. You might get eighty five percent. I'll bet against more though."

"How come I never heard that Mike was pulling out, Bunny?"

"Because he doesn't know about it yet. I have it on very good authority that he's going to be appointed to a court bailiff's position, over at the Bolling courthouse. Judge Richards told me this himself, on Friday."

"Why would Judge Richards tell you this?"

"Because I'm the one who nominated Mike for the position, Ken. I like having you as the constable. I was afraid Mike might beat you."

"I might have beat him. I've held this job for sixteen years, and I've never lost an election."

"It's too late for any one else to take out papers to run against you this time. I promise not to interfere next time, if that's what you want, Ken. It was Spike here who first asked me to help you get re-elected." Uncle Bunny was laughing and pointing at Dad when he said that. "He didn't have as much confidence in your ability to garner the votes as you and I have. He was worried after the paper predicted that Mike would out poll you by three to one this year. You know how susceptible Spike is to the written word, he believes everything he reads."

"I'll tell you another thing I believe, Bunny. I believe that someone who's called Bunny, by all and sundry, shouldn't make fun of a man called Spike by one childhood friend. That's what I believe. Dad was laughing too when he said that.

"You can call me Malcolm, Tommy, if that's what you'd prefer. I wouldn't mind. You could call me Junior too. I always liked Bunny. It describes something soft and cuddly, and that's me to a tee."

"Soft yes, but cuddly, that's not how I think of you."

"You can all leave now, I want to get home in time for late lunch. Thanks Bunny, about the election. Myra and I were already starting to wonder what else I could do. I've done my best for these people, I don't know why they seem to find it so hard to check the ballot beside my name."

"You need a nickname, Ken. You should work on getting one before the next election. I'd let you borrow mine, but there can only be one Bunny."

"You could have mine Ken. Vote for Spike Dyer. Constable for the township. That has a nice ring to it. You want us to start referring to you that way, when we're out and about, talking up your candidacy all over town?"

We left then, driving straight back to our house. When we pulled up into the driveway, I was happy to see my car already there. After we were inside, and settled with Mama in the library, Uncle Bunny told me what they were going to do about Richard. Uncle Bunny had found this Military school, out in California. It was called Army Navy Academy, and the campus was right on the ocean in Carlsbad, California. They had a football team, and one of their strengths was building discipline in young men. Mama was supposed to call Mrs. Connor and tell her the deal. Richard was supposed to go to this Army Navy Academy for the next year and a half, and Mr. Connor could stay in business. If not, no business from us, ever again. Uncle Bunny was the main force behind this. Even though Richard wasn't his son, he was a relative, and Uncle Bunny felt an obligation to him. Mama made it known that she thought Richard was getting off too easy.

Shirley wasn't going to be home before the time I had to be back at the Academy. I wouldn't be able to phone her either, not before she went to school, and heard all the rumors about what had happened to me out at the club. I went up to my room and wrote her a letter, telling her what had really happened, and explaining that I'd call her on Monday, after school, and we would talk. I told her I hadn't been hurt that badly, because I knew that rumors always exaggerated those things. I told her also that I had only grabbed Brenda's breast by accident. I drove over to her house, on my way back to school, and left the sealed envelope in her mailbox.

I called her at four o'clock Monday afternoon, but her mother said she hadn't gotten home yet. When I called again, after eating supper in the dining hall, Mrs. Jones told me that Shirley was upset, and didn't want to speak with me, at least not over the telephone. I had one thought, it was happening to me again. It didn't seem to matter what I tried, sooner or later, something always came along and ruined everything for me. I hung up the phone, certain in my own mind, and in my heart, that Shirley had decided to dump me. I was going to lose her, and it was all because of what had happened over at the country club.

I went back to my apartment and prepared myself for the next day's lessons. I was determined that this time, I wouldn't let my personal problems carry over to other parts of my life. This was a problem between Shirley and me. It didn't have any effect on the rest of my family, my school or the business. I knew I needed to compartmentalize my life better, and to not let one bad thing interfere with everything. By the time lights were turned out at ten, I felt prepared for the next day.

I called home Tuesday, after dinner, and spoke with Gerta and Mama. I had them call me back after the first three minutes ran out. Mama and I mostly talked about the golf learning center project, with me having to ask her questions about how various elements of the construction were coming. After about forty minutes, Mama changed the subject quickly.

"Kenny, is something wrong between you and Shirley?"

"Yes, but she won't even talk to me to tell me what it is. I called twice yesterday, but she wouldn't talk to me. I wrote her a letter, and explained what happened, but I guess she didn't believe me."

"Would you like me to go speak to her? She knows you love her. I'll convince her to at least accept your calls, and to give you a chance to explain. She's probably just got the wrong idea about something."

"No. I'll handle it. I'm staying calm this time, Mama. If she wants to make this a big deal, I'll just live with it. I know it wasn't, and that I didn't do anything wrong. I've already done all I should need to do. If she wants to treat me this way, I'll just wait. I'll be home in three more days. I'll go see her then."

"If that's how you want to do it, Kenny. Richard is leaving on Friday, for that school in California, with Georgia. Walt is still upset, but not so upset he wants to become a beggar. Georgia got Bunny to agree to fly her out there for three weekends a semester, to visit with Richard. She asked for four at first, but Bunny told her he'd pay for two visits by Walt and two by her, or else three by her, and Walt could pay for his own visits."

"I wish they'd all move out there with him. I've had nothing but trouble from that whole family."

"Well, for your sake, I can understand you saying that. Every time I see that beautiful child though, I just want to help her become a better person. She has so much potential, and they're all just letting it go to waste."

"You tried, Mama. You can't force them to do what they should be doing. That's why I don't think this school idea for Richard is going to work. He'll just come back, after a month or two, like Brenda did."

"Not this time, dear, Bunny has seen to that. Walt has given Bunny a legal document, one which allows Bunny to act as Richard's legal guardian, until Richard reaches the age of eighteen. Bunny is serious this time too. He won't allow Walt or Georgia to go back on this decision. Richard won't be coming back before he graduates, not even for a summer visit. Bunny has found a place in Northern California for Richard to spend his summer vacation. It's some kind of forestry work camp, that's being operated by men who used to work in the youth incarceration industry in California. Bunny says that Richard will be happy to get back to his regular military school in September. He's looking for something like that forestry camp for Brenda too. He's still upset that Walt let her leave that Ohio situation after she ran away."

I told Mama I'd call her on Wednesday, and went back to my apartment to finish studying. We spoke again on Wednesday and Thursday. I drove home on Friday, and Shirley was waiting on the driveway fountain when I pulled up to park. She came around to the passenger side of my car, opening the door to get in.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting in, so we can talk."

"I'm no longer interested in talking, Shirley. You didn't want to talk to me when I wanted to talk to you. That's something I've always hated. Brenda used to do that to me too. She'd be mad about something, and she wouldn't tell me what it was, and she wouldn't want to talk to me. I've decided I don't want to be around people who treat me like that." I got out of my car and went into the house, leaving her outside to do what she wanted to do. I was taking a chance, but I wanted her to feel the helpless feeling that I'd felt. I had meant it about hating being treated like she had treated me. I went into the kitchen to see what Gerta was making for dinner. I heard someone beeping the horn on my Cadillac. It made me smile as I walked into the kitchen. I gave Gerta a hug, and when she asked who was making all that racket outside, I told it was Shirley and it was because I'd made her mad.

"Are you going to let her keep doing that and run your battery down?"

"No, I'm going back out there, but I wanted to say hi to you first. Where's Mama?

"She's talking to those people building the lodge. They tried to substitute materials again, and Hans caught them at it again. She's going to really get them this time. She has a big performance bond from them, and they can't redo what they did very easily. If they have to go back and fix it, they aren't going to be done on time. Your mother wants a free patio in front of the lodge as a penalty. She had the design all ready, just in case they started pulling more funny stuff on her. She warned them the last time, but they wanted to try to pull one over on her. She knew about this over a week ago, but she never said anything about it, until now."

"I have to go, Gerta. I should be back soon, and you can finish telling me then." I hurried back outside. Shirley was still sounding out notes on my car horn when I went over and climbed in on the passenger side. "I'm here, you can quit wearing out my battery now."

"What really happened at the club last Saturday night?"

"Did you get my letter?"

"I got it, but I found out you left things out."

"Really? What kind of things?"

"That's why I'm here, so you can give me that answer. What did you leave out?"

"I don't think I left anything out, except for the part about how much I missed you when you went to Kansas City, and how boring it was not having you here."

"Do you know what Brenda told me in front of the school on Monday morning? That you and Richard had a big fight over Emily Carstairs, and that you've been screwing Emily, behind my back, for months."

"Did I leave that part out of my letter?"

"Yes, you did. Is it true?"

"No. I've never screwed Emily Carstairs, and certainly not since I've met you. Did you ask, Emily if it was true?"

"No. Why did you and Richard have a fight then?"

"Did you read my letter, Shirley?"

"You said Brenda's father punched you, because he thought you were feeling her up. Then, you said Richard kicked you in the head, but you didn't say why."

"So, you decided to believe Brenda, instead of me?"

"It wasn't that I believed her. I didn't want to talk about it over the phone. I wanted to be right there, and watch your eyes and see your face when you told me what happened."

"Was it worth putting me through hell all week, just so you could do this your way? Is that how you want me to treat you? Suppose someone tells me that you were seen talking to some boy, and it looked like he was touching you and rubbing your arm, should I stop calling you, until we can talk face to face? I can't operate that way, Shirley. I expect you to always be willing to give me the benefit of any doubt, at least until we can get together. That's what I would do. I might call you, and ask for an explanation, but I'm not going to believe someone else before I've talked to you."

"Why were you even at the dance? You never said you were going."

"I wasn't going to go, but both my parents were busy, and you weren't there. I was bored. I didn't know that Brenda was going to be there. Gary, Emily's brother told me he had to go, and so, when there was nothing else, I went there, just to get out of the house and do something."

"Brenda said the fight started when you took Emily away from Richard, and started dancing with her. Did you dance with Emily?"

"I put in the letter that Emily and I were going to dance, when Brenda tackled her."

"Why were you going to dance with her?"

"Brenda's been telling everyone that Emily is a lesbian. Emily said if I'd dance with her, some of the other kids from the high school might not believe Brenda when she said that about her."

"Suppose she asked you to fuck her, for the same reason? Would you?"

"I didn't even want to dance with her, Shirley. I just didn't like the idea of Brenda spreading rumors about her. Until Monday, right before your mother told me you didn't want to talk to me on the phone, the only girl I could ever see myself fucking, for the rest of my life, was you. After though, I decided I better start planning on living my life differently, in case you decided you weren't going to talk to me anymore. I've changed since Monday night. I spent the last four days doing all the other things I need to do. You wanted to teach me some kind of lesson, and you did. I can get along okay without you, if I have to. Now that I know that, it makes you just a little bit less important to me. Now we have to find out if that little bit less is enough to prevent our being together."

"Why are you saying that? Of course we're together. All I wanted was to ask you about it. Now I have, and now I'm satisfied, so it's over."

"It isn't just up to you to make that decision, Shirley. You can't just make your decisions, and not expect them to impact on both of us. We are a couple. We've chosen to be a couple, and that implies all the things I've just been talking about, trust, giving the benefit of the doubt, not deciding, unilaterally, to make decisions that affect both of us. I realized after Monday night, that I had made myself too dependent on you, dependent for too much. What did I have that I could fall back on in case something like this happened? You sent me scrambling, desperate to find something, and I did. You made me stronger, but you did it at the expense of "us". There's still an "us", but now it's a weaker "us" than it was before. Now you have to find your own way to make a stronger "you" out of this weaker "us"."

"I don't want a weaker "us", Kenny. I want it like it was before Saturday."

"I do too, but that isn't an option. All the adults always tell us that balance is better for us. Maybe we were too close, too intense. Maybe this week will help us. I know both our parents worry about what will happen if we ever break up, how we'll be able to handle it. I used to think they were crazy to worry, but now I know they weren't. What we have is strong, but it can also be very delicate, and sometimes, like now, it can be brittle too. This week, we've both had a chance to look at that aspect of it. I don't think we can take permanence for granted any more."

"You sound like you're trying to dump me now. Is that what you're doing? You can be honest with me."

"I am being honest, Shirley. If I wasn't being honest, I'd tell you everything is back the way it was, and that we're both going to forget about what happened. It isn't the way it was, and neither of us are going to forget what happened. I didn't enjoy Monday night, and I didn't enjoy any of the other days that came after. I'm not trying to dump you. I'm saying the rules have changed, and what you did Monday afternoon and evening is what caused them to change. I'm sure things will keep changing, and I'm making myself ready to deal with change, and to learn how to accept it."

"I'm going home, Kenny. This wasn't something that I wanted to happen. I didn't do anything to make it happen. You keep talking like it's all over. I came over here to see you, and what I'm seeing now is a different you, but I didn't want you to change and be different."

"I'll give you a ride if you want me to."

"That's it, you're just going to let me leave?"

"What else am I supposed to do, Shirley? You tell me you're going home, so I offer to drive you. I'm not going to ask you to stay. You have to make your own choices, and I'm going to make mine. I'm not going to chase after you. If you decide you want to go home, you can go. I only want to be with you when you want to be with me. Those are the new rules, and you made them. All I'm doing is telling you I accept them. We'll just have to wait and see how well the new rules work."

"Here's another new rule then. Leave me alone." Shirley got out of my car, slamming my door, and walking quickly away from me. I really wanted to get out and run after her, but I'd just gotten through telling her I wasn't going to chase after her. It looked like another lonely weekend for me. I took some perverse comfort in the fact that I'd gotten to participate this time in the screwing up of our relationship. I wondered how many notches we'd dropped this time, on the "us" meter? I didn't feel like my "me" was any stronger, but I could tell that our "us" was on life support, and fading fast.

Different situation, different approach, same result. I remember thinking it was possible that, having experienced this type of thing before, I had developed a protective coating or something. I didn't feel nearly as bad as I had with Brenda. I didn't feel like my world was shattered, or that I didn't want to go on. All week, I'd been getting myself ready for things to turn out just like this. I'd been expecting it. With Brenda, before, it was an instant shock. One minute, I couldn't have been happier, and the next one, I wanted to cut my own throat. Shirley was different. I had felt the worst of it on Monday night. Now, I didn't really feel that bad.

It was eleven o'clock when Dad finally came out of the house, walking over to my car, to get me and bring me back inside. He and Mama helped me up the stairs, to my bedroom. Dad helped me get undressed, and into my bed.

The doctors said it wasn't really a nervous breakdown. They called it a temporary disassociation, brought on by nervous stress. I didn't care what they called it, the bottom line was, for ten days, there was nobody home in the upstairs portion of the Kenny Parsons operations room. I stopped thinking. I just vegged out for ten whole days. I missed Christmas.

Oh, I was there, but I wasn't really there. They got me all cleaned up nice, and they dressed me, and they even helped me to negotiate my way down the stairs.

All of the Jones family was there, I know, because Mama had taken so many pictures.

It didn't matter to me who was there, or who wasn't. It didn't matter, because I wasn't really there. I wasn't anywhere. It wasn't a case of me hiding, or, if it was, I'd gotten a lot better at it, because I couldn't find me anywhere. I guess, after I really started trying to, I really could find me, because, when I went looking all around for myself, there I was, right where I'd left me. Up the creek, without a paddle.

How would you like to be sixteen years old, wake up and realize that you'd just ripped your own guts out, and had eaten them? That's how I felt. I was in my bedroom, thinking about what I'd managed to accomplish with Shirley that Friday night. I didn't realize that it was ten days later now, and it was Monday morning instead of Friday night. To me, it had just happened. Time passes quickly when you're off in non compos mentis land. Mama came into my bedroom, and I started crying as soon as I saw her. I was shocked over how happy she seemed, when all I wanted to do was find myself a deep hole, crawl in it, and cover it back up again.

It took her a long time to convince me it was the twenty ninth of December, and not the morning of the twenty first of December. That's when she began showing me all the pictures she'd taken with her Polaroid camera. While I was going through the pictures by myself for the fourth or fifth time, trying to finally accept the truth that Mama had told me, Mama came back in with Shirley trailing closely behind her.

"You two children need to have a talk, Kenny. Nothing has happened that you two can't get worked out. You both said some things, but they are only words. You can change them."

We did talk too. Shirley had been so upset when she left, but she was even more upset when she came back, and Mama told her I was ill. By the fourth day, she just forced her way past Mama, squeezing by her at the front door. She came running up the stairs and into my bedroom, finding out just what kind of ill I was. She hadn't had the advantage of having seen Mama in some of her depressions, so, seeing me like I was, had really freaked her out. She made herself hysterical, and one of my doctors had to call her parents for permission to give her a shot to calm her back down again. Fortunately, I was completely oblivious the whole time all of this was taking place.

Shirley and I spent three hours together on the twenty ninth. We were negotiating the rebuilding of our "us". I think we both realized that no "us" was strong enough to survive being assaulted by two overstrong "me's". The "us" is dependent on the "me's", and if the "us" gets broken, the "me" is liable to take a big hit too. My "me" had it's ass kicked. When the doctor got through explaining what he thought had happened to me, I was more confused than I'd been before he started.

What I did understand was that I'd only been fooling myself, if I had believed I was ready to get along without Shirley that day. My mind had positively rejected that outcome. I felt like planting a big, wet, kiss on my mind, and congratulating it for it's good thinking. I needed to find a better way to get it to tell me no in the future though. Leaving yourself adrift, without a working mind, once or twice, for a few days, or even a week or two, was probably okay, but, making a habit of it, that couldn't be a good thing.



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Chapter 35


I went back to school on Thursday, the second of January. Shirley and I had talked a lot in the few days remaining of my break from school. We had both expressed a desire for us to remain together as a couple. We had exchanged many loving thoughts, and had each reaffirmed that our deep caring for the other was intact. We had held each other a lot, and had even kissed quite a bit, but none of this was done with any real, honest, passion. There was too much that was still unresolved between us. Something was missing, and we both recognized what it was. Continuing trust in the strength of our joint commitment to this relationship.

Mama had said that we could change the words we had spoken. We had tried to do that. Even after rephrasing what we had said to each other, couching it in less incendiary words, we were both left with deep differences in our core beliefs. I needed more assurance than Shirley was willing to give. I needed her trust and some promise of future understanding. She believed I could just control all my thoughts, and my bodily reactions. In fact, she really believed I wouldn't have had these thoughts and reactions, in the first place, not if I truly cared about her. I tried to explain to her that it wasn't a head or a heart reaction I'd had when I was in Brenda's presence. I also told her that I hadn't been the one who was seeking out Brenda. I certainly hadn't been trying to put myself in a location where I'd simply have to see her, which is what Shirley believed.

We didn't fight, or yell at each other. There really wasn't that much outward emotion being displayed while we patiently discussed these things that had separated us. In the end results coming from all this talking, it didn't seem to matter how reasonable we both had been. Nothing got resolved between us. We began, oh so hopefully, determined to work things out. From the start, we both expected to emerge from our talks, even closer than we were before the rift got started. After four days of trying to put things back the way they had been, both of us reluctantly agreed that it was going to be impossible for us to do that. We concluded that we were each fixed in our separate positions, and neither of us could see how we could build a relationship from there, not without a willingness for at least one of us to change. Both of us thought we were right, that the other one should change.

When I got back home again that Friday, Shirley wasn't waiting for me at my house. I went inside and phoned her, anxious to find out if she had come up with any new ideas. I wanted to see her, to be with her. I was disappointed that we hadn't worked things out, but I was still hopeful that what we already had, would somehow see us through until we were able to regroup, and forge ahead with our relationship again. To me, this was not anything that couldn't be worked through. We still had our love for each other.

On the telephone, Shirley seemed listless, very unenthusiastic. There was no energy or excitement coming from her end of the phone conversation. After a few minutes, I too began to wind down. I had already made several suggestions for things we might do together over the weekend, but each was met either with resistance or outright refusal. She said it was too cold for us to go for a drive. She didn't want to come over to my house, and she said she'd feel uncomfortable if I was to come over there, to hers.

"How am I supposed to come up with ideas for things for us to do, when you don't want to do anything, Shirley? Tell me what it is that you'd like us to do? Maybe I should just hang up and wait for you to call me? Will you call me, to let me know when you want us to get together again?"

"I'm just really tired right now from trying to think about this all the time, Kenny. If we did get together right now, we'd probably spend all our time talking about what's wrong with us. I need to try to find some answers for myself, ones that make sense to me. I don't want us to keep on going over the same things. That's what happens when we do get together, or when we talk on the phone."

"How are we supposed to find those answers, if we don't talk, or get together?"

"I don't know, but not the way we've been trying. I'm a little afraid now. I'm afraid I'll say something, and the same thing will happen to you again."

"All right, I understand. Don't give up on us, Shirley. I still love you as much as before. Maybe you're right about us taking some time. It's been very intense, trying to work out a solution for these things. Do you want me to wait until you call me?"

"I don't know what I want. You've already told me I can't have what I really wanted. I just know the way we are now isn't what I wanted. You talk about loving me, but then you keep on telling me I need to be different."

"I didn't say you needed to be different. I said the way things are right now, we were going to have the same kinds of problems later on. You don't believe what I've told you about Brenda."

"I believe you, I just don't like it. Why would just seeing her make you get a hard on? You wouldn't react like that, not if you didn't still have feelings for her."

"I don't know. I don't even know if it will happen the next time I see her. Call me, Shirley. I'm always going to love you, and I want to hear from you, whenever you decide you want to speak with me."

We said goodbye, and I put the receiver back down inside the phone cradle. I felt, for the first time, like I was hanging up on the Shirley part of my life.

Mama must have had a good idea of how my phone call to Shirley was going to turn out. She and Mrs. Jones had become good friends. I knew they were in close contact, and were both concerned about what Shirley and I were going through. Shirley sounded like she had given her decision a lot of thought. I felt a little guilty, knowing that a small part of what I felt was relief. I hadn't wanted to face a full weekend of more of those discussions, not when I felt like it would have led to no movement away from our currently held positions. I didn't want to just give up all hope though. There should have been a way. I still loved her.

Mama had been wrong about it just being words, or that once spoken, they could be taken back, and changed. The words themselves had produced changes in us both, and a marked shift in our relationship emphasis. Where before there had only been wonder and amazement about how great our love felt, now it had turned to doubt, and about us questioning whether our love would even survive. Doubt was now clouding every aspect of our future together. I had assumed we'd be together forever, and now, I didn't even know when Shirley and I would speak again, or even if we would.

Shirley and I hadn't made love in more than four weeks. This wasn't a problem, but it did point out how radical the shift had been for us. It hadn't even seemed important to me until after I hung up the phone, and I realized that it had been that long of a time for us. With the way things then stood, it looked like it was going to be longer, possibly, forever. That thought was chilling to me, the forever part. It brought home to me the seriousness of what Shirley and I were contesting. The stakes had been greatly raised by our conversation this time. I wondered if Shirley had any thoughts similar to the ones I was having. We might be talking about forever. How did we ever let it get to this point?

At dinner, later that evening, Mama didn't mention Shirley's name, not even once. Dad talked about his week at work, and Mama talked about the golf learning center. Both talked about the diamond earrings Uncle Bunny had purchased for Elizabeth for Christmas. Mama expressed a lot of concern that Uncle Bunny was going to do something foolish with Elizabeth. She kept bringing up their age difference, and the belief she had about Elizabeth being attracted only to Uncle Bunny's wealth, and his social position.

When I drove myself back to school on Sunday night, I felt less optimistic about everything. I'd been regretting everything that had happened since the night at the club. The night that had started everything. I didn't hear anything from Shirley during the week. When Friday came around again, I drove home, fully expecting to have another lonely time of it. I would have been right too, if it hadn't been for a surprise visit from Jane and Grace. It was a surprise to me at least, but I'm sure Mama had something to do in the timing and planning of it.

It was mid January, and the temperatures were cold, below freezing, usually down to the high teens, Fahrenheit, at night.That weekend it was very cold, and it snowed about three inches, overnight, on Saturday. The roads were icy all over the Bolling County area. We all stayed inside, playing some board games and watching movies on the VCR. I knew Mama had spoken to the girls about my problems, because Jane made several comments about things seeming more important when you're young, and about how time makes things better. I didn't say anything. I figured they were trying to give me an opening to talk about things with them if I wanted to. I didn't. I wanted to wait and see.

Jane and Grace had both done better than they had expected to in their first semester of college. Jane wanted to go into nursing, and Grace said she wanted to do something in business. With her views about labor and management, Dad suggested she might do better if she took a job with the government. Mama said that Uncle Bunny had a lot of good contacts at the County level, and she was sure he could help Grace find something nice after college.

I drove carefully back to school on Sunday, leaving an hour and a half early, just so I could drive slow, and still not worry about getting back late. Mama made me promise to call home as soon as I got safely back to my building at the academy. I didn't have any trouble getting back to the academy. I called home right away, and told Gerta that I made it back without a problem.

Shirley phoned me Wednesday evening at the school. She started off by telling me that she missed me, and had been thinking about me all the time. For the next ten minutes, she asked me more questions about Brenda. From the type of question she was asking, it sounded like she was trying to pinpoint what I liked about Brenda's looks. No matter what I'd answer, she'd make some comment that Brenda looked better than she did. Shirley and I both knew that ninety nine out of one hundred people would say that Brenda was better looking than Shirley. The other one would refuse to say only because they didn't believe in judging people by their looks, or something else like that. After about the Twentieth question, I decided I didn't want to continue in that vein.

"Shirley, I like the way you look, just fine. I like the kind of person you are even more. You're sweet, honest, kind, fun to be with, and the best kisser I've ever met. None of these questions make much sense to me, because you and Brenda aren't competing. If you were competing, you'd win with me, no question. It wouldn't take me half a second to decide. If you two were in a beauty contest, Brenda might win, but not if they judged the complete person. You're a complete person, she isn't."

"I'm a freak, Kenny. Guess how tall I am now?"

"I don't care. You're the perfect height for me, Shirley. You always will be."

"I'm six one and three quarters. I'm taller than you."

"I'm probably that tall too. Maybe you're a quarter inch taller, so what?"

"No one's going to want me."

"That's a lie. It's a lie you keep telling yourself, and it won't ever be true. I've wanted you ever since I first noticed you, when you were playing with Jane, Grace, and Denise. I don't know what else I can do to prove it to you."

"I meant besides you."

I felt instantly sick. I'm not sure how I managed to not spew my dinner all over the wall next to the phone. It was as bad as if she'd kicked me in the stomach.

"Oh. Well, maybe you should try Gary Carstairs then. He's only thirteen, but he's about six four or six five already."

"That's not what I meant." I didn't trust myself to speak. The feeling of nausea had passed, but I still felt shaken by what she'd said. "Did you hear me, Kenny?"

"I heard you. Listen, I'm really not in the mood to discuss Brenda, or who else might want you. It's obvious that you aren't in the mood to talk about us. I'm not the one for you to be talking to when you're upset because you're too tall to get another boyfriend. If I'm ever in the mood to talk about stuff like that, it will be too late for us to even talk about us. There won't be an us."

"Are you jealous?"

"Do you want me to be jealous?"

"Yes."

"I suppose jealousy is part of it, but it feels more like something else. I feel like you've given up on us, Shirley, like you've already decided you need to look elsewhere."

"Nobody else wants me."

"I'm sorry that troubles you. I really need to get back to my studies, Shirley. Thank you for calling me. I don't believe you're right about nobody else wanting you. You keep looking, I'm sure you'll find someone."

"Do you think I should start looking?"

"You already have."

"Maybe you're right. Are you going to be all right, Kenny?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not as all right as I was half an hour ago, but I don't think things are going to be as bad as they were before. Don't call the house and worry my mother, all right? What happened to me before really scared her. I'll be all right. If you ever need to talk, Shirley, you can still call me."

I made it back to my room, and went to sleep without getting ready for the next day's classes. Thursday, I felt like I was walking around in a fog. I went to all my classes, and I managed to make it through the school day, without having my not being prepared be exposed. Friday, I was again prepared for class, but my attention wasn't really on any of my classes.

I got to my house before five o'clock. As soon as I went through the front door, I knew something bad had happened. There was a quiet in the house, and both my parents were in the living room, having gotten up as soon as I came walking through the front door. My first thought was something bad had happened to Shirley. Mama came hurrying towards me, with her arms reaching out to embrace me, and then she started crying, I was sure that was what it was.

"Is it Shirley?" I was near panicking when I asked the question.

"It's Bunny. He's had a heart attack. They've taken him by air ambulance to Springfield. As soon as they get his enzymes fully stabilized, they're going to do a bypass operation on him. I knew something terrible was going to happen to him when he took up with Elizabeth." Mama would have brought Elizabeth into it if a comet had fallen out of the sky and hit Uncle Bunny.

I felt really bad for Uncle Bunny, but no one was dead, and that is what I had worried about. I don't know why I thought it was Shirley, but that's what my first thought was.

"How bad was it? When did it happen?" I was able now to focus on Uncle Bunny. My brain started working better once I'd gotten over my initial panic.

"It wasn't that bad, but he has several blocked arteries to his heart. They say two of them are ninety five percent blocked, and the other ones are eighty percent and seventy percent. Too much animal fat, too many greasy hamburgers. I've told him a hundred times that his bad eating habits would eventually catch up to him. Not even forty nine years old and he's going under the knife." Dad always did like to get in an 'I told you so', especially with Uncle Bunny.

"Where's Elizabeth? She probably needs us now too. Uncle Bunny wouldn't like it if we didn't try to take care of her."

"We phoned her. She is planning on driving over to Springfield tonight. We told her she could fly with us, in the morning, but she wants to get to the hospital sooner than that." Dad nodded after Mama said this. I wondered which of the two of them had called her. I bet it was Dad who thought of it, or maybe Gerta.

"What time are we leaving?"

We're leaving Bolling at seven. We should make it to the hospital before nine. Bunny's resting comfortably, his condition is listed as critical, but that's just because he was transferred by air to the hospital. He should be upgraded to serious sometime tomorrow, so he can have visitors.

I was in my room before dinner, thinking of Uncle Bunny, and still feeling a little sorry for myself too. My phone rang, and it was Gerta, telling me that I had a call from Shirley.

"Hi, Kenny. My mom just told me about your uncle. Is he going to be all right?"

"I don't know. Mama said he needs an operation. We're flying to Springfield, early tomorrow, to see him. He'll probably be okay though. He's a lot stronger than he looks."

"I hope so. I know how much you love him. I had another reason why I needed to talk to you too. I've felt bad ever since I called you at school. Those things I said, I didn't really mean them. I had some idiotic idea about wanting to find out if you really cared about me. After I hung up, I had a long talk with my mother about what you said. She made me realize how it must have sounded to you. I haven't really given up, Kenny, and I don't want anyone else. That damned Brenda though. She's so pretty, and she's so sure you still love her. I know she lies when she tells me things, but she says some of the same things you say. It can't all be lies."

"Shirley, I don't love Brenda, and I never did. I thought so once, but I was wrong. You're the only girl I've ever loved, and Brenda has never come close to making me feel like I felt when I was with you. If you think you and I have problems, you should have seen what it was like with her and me. We do have problems, but they aren't anything we couldn't work out, if we both wanted to badly enough. This thing right now, we just need to both admit we aren't ever going to be a perfect fit. I know what your mom told you about her and your dad, but, maybe, all we can be is a really, really, good fit. Is that so terrible? You can't keep blaming me for my dick getting hard. I'm sixteen, my dick does what it wants to. It doesn't consult with my brain, or ask me how I feel before it gets hard. It's some kind of involuntary reaction."

"We are a perfect fit, Kenny. I still think so. Mom told me that I'm allowing my fears to control my actions. She says I'm trying to manufacture evidence to match my being afraid that you'll stop loving me. I am afraid of that. I'm always afraid of that. I can't figure out why you think you love me now."

"I don't think that. Maybe for a day or two I thought it. After that though, I was certain. You know how it is when you really hit a nice drive? It hardly feels like you used any effort at all, and your balance feels so right? When we're together, that's how I always feel. I haven't felt calm or peaceful since you went away to Kansas City. I want to feel that way again, but I can't, not until we get this thing straightened out."

"Kenny, can we stop talking now? Right now. I don't want either of us to say anything more, to ruin what I'm feeling now. I'm sorry about your uncle, but I need you tonight. I hope you need me too. I want you to come get me, and bring me over to your house. I don't care what you have to tell your parents, but I'm telling both of mine that I need to be with you tonight. Mom will understand, and she'll fix it with my dad. Come now, and no more talking, okay?"

"Okay. Give me about ten or fifteen minutes. I'll be there."

I found Mama downstairs in the library. She was having a before dinner drink with Dad.

"I just spoke with Shirley, and I'm going over to get her. She and I have had some big problems. We spent too much time talking about them, and not enough time being loving to each other. We're not going to be doing any more talking tonight, but we are going to be together." I was nervous, because I didn't know what I'd do if either of them gave me any reasons why we couldn't or shouldn't do that. What Shirley had said felt right to me. We had been talking and analyzing things too much. It wasn't just that I was aching to make love to her, although I was. We both needed a reminder of why we should work to try to stay together.

"Of course, sweetheart. We'll hold dinner for you. She can stay as long as she likes. Tell her that we're happy for her to stay. If she stays the night, we'll either run her home, in the morning, when we leave, or else let Hans give her a ride, when he returns from driving us to the airport." I watched Dad's face when Mama was telling me this, and he had a neutral expression. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. For some reason, I wanted his blessing about this too.

"Are you all right with this too, Dad?"

"Are you anticipating the same level of noise and histrionics as the last time?"

"Maybe more this time. It's been a month since we've gotten together."

"More? We'll need to leave the house tomorrow, no later than six fifteen. I would prefer to get a good night's rest." I saw Mama throw her hip into his, causing him to stagger, spilling just a little of his drink. "All right, Bertie. You don't have to tip me over. A simple nudge would have been sufficient. Kenny, feel free to do your utmost with Shirley. I'm quite certain your mother will enjoy every minute of it too."

I thought that was a strange thing for him to say, but I noticed Mama was already a little flushed, and I saw her hand reach over to pat dad on his lower back. It kept moving down, but I turned my head away before she went any further. I made it over to Shirley's house, but then I had to go up and ring the doorbell after I got there.

Mr. Jones answered the doorbell, and he made a few, polite, inquiries about Uncle Bunny's condition.

"Shirley has made an unusual request of her mother and I, Kenny. Do you know what her request was?"

"To be allowed to go over to my house for dinner?"

"Among other things. Do you know what those other things were?"

"No sir."

"She asked us for permission to spend the night, in your room. More specifically, in your bed, with you."

I looked over at Shirley. She was sitting on the couch next to her mother. She was smiling at me. No, she was beaming at me. I saw a small blue overnight case resting at the front of the couch, immediately to her right.

"Yes sir. I was hoping she could spend the night too. Did she mention that we've agreed not to do any talking?"

"No. I'm pretty sure she didn't mention anything like that. May I ask the reason for that?"

"Yes sir. Lately, that's all we've been doing, is talking. The more we talked, the worst things seemed to get. It got so bad, after so much talking, that we forgot how much we loved each other. Tonight is just for loving each other. We aren't going to solve those other problems, not tonight, but we both just needed to be together tonight, to love each other, and to remember why it's so important to eventually work through these problems."

"So, then, tonight it's just for sex?"

"No sir. It's about our love, about us communicating how important we are to each other. If it was just for sex, we wouldn't need all night." Mrs. Jones stood up then, and Shirley stood up a second or two later.

"Ronnie, let the children go now. You've had your fun, and they're both in a hurry. Kenny, I know you have to get up early tomorrow morning. Have fun, but try to get some sleep too. Give your parents our best." She turned and hugged Shirley, and then bent over and picked up Shirley's little overnight case, handing it to her. Shirley went over and kissed her dad, and then we slipped out the door, and practically ran to the car. We did do some laughing, but the only words we spoke were when I started to tell Shirley how nice she looked. She shushed me right away, so I assumed she was superstitious or something. I decided to humor her, so I shut up.

Dinner was only remarkable for how quickly Shirley and I wolfed it down, and for the fact that she and I both turned down the dessert after the main course. Shirley and I spoke to my parents during dinner, just not to each other. We excused ourselves as soon as it was practical. We didn't wait long enough to be polite, but instead, acted as soon as Dad finally dropped his fork, signaling that he was done.

Shirley was like the first drink was for an alcoholic, after a week of abstaining. I was so anxious, but used up a lot of energy trying to pretend I wasn't that anxious. Shirley had most of her clothes off before I had the dead bolt thrown on my bedroom door. It was some time later before Shirley uttered her first word directly to me. She had been loud and vocal, but she wasn't talking to me, not exactly. She didn't talk until after I had started to open the foil packet on a rubber.

"No." Shirley shook her head to place emphasis on her one word command.

"But."

"I'm on the pill, remember. It's okay. I want to feel you better." It had been more than one full cycle since our last time making love, and I had forgotten that her birth control pills would be in full protection mode by then.

We made love. Without the rubber, I didn't last very long. Not the first time, or the second time either. By the third time, I was able to last for a much longer time. Beginning that third time, Shirley rode on top of me. She spent as long as she could up there, but finally, pleading fatigue, she climbed back off before turning over to be on her hands and knees. As soon as she was comfortable, she started to wiggle her cute butt at me, in a very lewd and lascivious manner. I immediately got into position and starting pressing forward, sinking into her as deep as I was able to from behind. The force of my penetration pushed her forward, causing her to grab at the edge of my mattress with both her hands. She was finding it difficult to hold her position as I pounded into her for all I was worth. This wasn't finesse, but it was every bit as effective this time as it had been in the past. This was Shirley's weakness.

She was never so happy sexually, as when I was behind her, and slamming into her, as hard as I was capable of moving. It hurt her cervix, but she said it made her feel good, because it was a submissive position to her, and she felt somehow less sizable. She had this thing about being too tall. I couldn't talk her out of it. This doggy style though, it really got her motor racing, and she got off a lot stronger, just because she felt she was more dainty and delicate. She said I seemed much bigger to her when I took her from behind like that. Whatever her reasoning, for her it seemed to really work well. Whatever worked well for her, worked well for me too. It was a little after two when we finally called it quits and fell asleep holding each other. Shirley had outdone herself vocally, in terms of both her volume, and with the different types of things that she was yelling. I never knew how she thought up those things she yelled out. She didn't talk like that unless she was in the middle of having a great orgasm. She'd say anything then.

Physically, our lovemaking was a great success for both of us. I know I couldn't have asked for a better physical coupling. From her response, I'd felt confident that she had enjoyed it the same way I had. Emotionally though, something had been missing for me. The love was there, when I felt it, it was just as strong as ever. The feeling I'd always gotten before, of peace and calm, that was absent. The oneness we had before, the feeling I'd noticed all those other times with Shirley, was now missing. I wondered if she had felt it's absence as well. I didn't feel anything bad at all, but, I noticed the difference. Staying true to her request, I didn't say anything about it to her. I held her and we both drifted off to sleep.

The phone got me up at five twenty. I'd asked Gerta to ring my room, to make sure I got up in time. I hurried into the bathroom to get myself ready to leave. Shirley hadn't stirred when I answered the phone, and she remained sleeping when I came out of the bathroom, dressed and ready for our trip. I went over to my desk and grabbed a clean sheet of paper, and wrote her out a quick note, placing it on my pillow, so she would notice it when she awakened.

Dear Shirley,

I love you, and I loved last night. I'll call you when we get back tonight.

Love,

Kenny



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Chapter 36

By the time we finally arrived at the hospital in Springfield, it was after nine o'clock. Elizabeth was already in the hospital room, visiting with Uncle Bunny, and he was being allowed only one visitor in his room at a time. The nurse had gone in to tell Uncle Bunny and Elizabeth that we had arrived. It was only a few minutes wait, but Mama was being impatient, loudly impatient too. Dad tried to get her to sit and wait, telling her it wouldn't be long before she could go in. He was telling her this when Elizabeth came into the waiting room, and Mama, seeing her, got up and just hurried right on by her, without even bothering to say hello, or to ask about how Uncle Bunny had seemed.

Dad and I greeted her though, and we asked her all the usual questions.

"Bunny says he doesn't want a bypass operation. He wants to have something called angioplasty done, up at the Mayo Clinic, in Rochester. He knows some doctor from up there who claims the angioplasty, with a change in diet and exercise, is just as effective as a bypass operation. Bunny says he's going to undergo a full course of something called chelation therapy too. His attending physician was just in there with the surgeon that was supposed to do the bypass operation. They both told Bunny that he's being reckless with his life. I hope you and Bertie can convince him to do what these doctors are recommending, Tom. Why would Bunny think he knows better than his own doctors? Dr. Tewell, in Ridgeline, he already told him he needed this bypass operation. I never heard of this other thing. They use balloons to push the plaque back and open up the arteries. The doctors inside his room now, they just told Bunny the arteries usually close back up again, mostly in a matter of just a few months."

"Elizabeth, don't worry. Bertie will make him behave. Bunny has always been a little distrusting of doctors, ever since I've known him. He'll come around. When is he scheduled for surgery?"

"That's just it, he just refused to have the surgery performed. He wouldn't sign the consent form. The attending doctor is having his release papers typed up for Bunny to sign. The doctor wants Bunny to sign a document, releasing the hospital, and all his doctors from all liability, if he really does choose to leave."

"Bunny needs to forget about this other stuff. I've heard something about this chelation therapy. I think it's something they use to treat people with lead poisoning. I never heard it helped heart attack victims. They put something in your bloodstream, and it binds with the lead molecules and removes them from the patient's body. I'll go talk to him as soon as Bertie gets out. It makes no sense for him to risk his life, by overruling competent doctors, giving their best advice."

Mama stayed in with Uncle Bunny for about fifteen minutes, and when she came out, Dad went in to see him. The whole time Dad was in with Uncle Bunny, Mama was venting about what a stubborn man Uncle Bunny was becoming. She didn't come right out and accuse her, but from her words, you could tell Mama thought it was Elizabeth's influence making Uncle Bunny go against medical advice to undergo the surgery.

"I think he should have the operation too. I don't know why he thinks that other thing will work better. I was hoping you'd talk him into having the bypass." Elizabeth was visibly upset, and part of the reason was she saw how Mama was fixing to lay the blame right on her doorstep, if anything bad happened to Uncle Bunny.

Dad was only in with Uncle Bunny for about ten minutes, and when he came out, he was as upset as Mama and Elizabeth.

"Bertie, the nurse came in and told me I had to leave. She said I was upsetting Bunny. I wasn't upsetting him, he was upsetting me. He wouldn't listen to a word I was telling him. That man is heading for an early grave, but he still won't listen. I wash my hands of it."

"Thomas, you stop saying things like that about Bunny. He certainly isn't heading for an early grave." Mama had stood up and was advancing on Dad. There was fire in her voice, and anger in her eyes. Dad put both his hands up, with the palms facing out, signaling his surrender.

"Poor choice of words on my part, Bertie, but you know what I meant. I'm damn worried about his whole attitude. He wouldn't even comment when I told him what this chelation therapy was used for. He as much as told me I didn't know what I was talking about. Then, after that, when I asked him, politely, to tell me how this chelation thing was supposed to work, he told me he didn't know. He's betting his life on a treatment he knows absolutely nothing about!"

I'd heard enough from all of them. I slid by Dad, heading into Uncle Bunny's room. It had that hospital room smell, and Uncle Bunny looked up when I walked in the room.

"Did they send you in to reason with me too, Kenny?"

"Hi, Uncle Bunny. No, they're too busy telling each other about how stubborn and reckless you are. Are you okay? Does it hurt bad?"

"I feel fine. Maybe a little weak, and sore from all that damn poking and prodding they keep doing. Phil Tewell is the one who got me into all of this. Those pill pushers don't like it when you don't treat them like they were Gods or something. A friend of mine had a triple bypass a year ago. Poor bastard, they cut his chest wide open, and spread him like a turkey. The guy who went in right before him, he died on the operating table. Eddie made it, but he was sore and worried for months. They use their scare tactics, trying to bully you into doing most of their work for them. Now they've got Eddie eating like a damn rabbit, and out walking five miles a day. I looked it up, this bypass operation. It's damn expensive, around fifty or sixty thousand, and even with it, they haven't been able to prove much beyond the fact it that it reduces angina pain. Do you know why it reduces it? They cut the damn nerve, when they operate, the one that causes the angina pain. They sure hate it when you ask them questions about it too. I'm supposed to just take their word for everything, because they went to medical school. I'll tell you, Kenny, I'd rather croak doing things my way, after I've investigated them, than live by letting them have this sixty thousand dollar crack at spreading open my chest cavity. I know who benefits from every bypass operation, and it isn't the patient, it's the surgical team and the hospital."

"Everyone's really worried. They've been listening to what your doctors have been telling you."

"It's my life, and it's my decision. In my legal practice, if I state an opinion, I'm more than willing to back it up with appropriate citations. I can't go around telling my clients that it's that way, just because I say so. I won't allow them to operate on me just because it's good for them, or because they think I should let them. There have been several long and exhaustive studies done, about whether people were living longer from having or not having this bypass surgery. They skew the results in their own studies by claiming that this one or that one would be dead without their surgical intervention. With the double blind studies though, the data suggests it just isn't true. There's little, if any, correlation with having the surgery, and enjoying an increased life span. I'm going to go with the less invasive procedure. Once the arteries are cleared, I'll diet and exercise, and take those chelation infusions. A lot of people think chelation is quackery, but I'm not so sure. I'll just take my chances, and then we'll wait and see."

"I hope you're right, Uncle Bunny. Are you going to really look into it, and investigate after you have these other things done? Mama is going a little whacko out in the waiting room. She's mad at Elizabeth and Dad. When I leave, she's going to be mad at me too, I guess. I think you should do whatever you have the most faith in. I know how smart you are. I can't believe you'd be refusing to do this if you didn't at least think your way would work better. I sure hope you're right. I love you."

"Ah, speaking of love. Bertie tells me you and your young lady kept her and Tommy up until the wee hours. Good for you. I used to spend quite a bit of time entertaining young ladies in your old room, after Tommy and Bertie were first married. Tommy hated it, but my father seemed to always get a charge out of it. The louder they were, the better he seemed to like it. Hans too. My father and Hans were a strange pairing. Did you know it was my father that taught Hans how to work on cars? It's the truth. The old man loved to go out in the garage and get his hands dirty. He was interested in anything mechanical. He could be a mean bastard, my father, but he always took care of the mechanically inclined people who worked for him. I think Gerta might be the only one of the young German girls who worked at the house that he didn't sleep with. That was out of his affection and respect for Hans."

"She told me he scared her, and that he fooled with her some. She said he was a very powerful man, with a strong animal attraction."

"He liked to dominate people. He had this belief, that most Germans, of a certain class, were very willing to assume a subservient role. After the second war, it amused my father to hire an all German staff. I approach women from the opposite side of the spectrum. I prefer to woo them, rather than order them into my bed. How do you prefer to do it, Kenny?"

"I don't know yet, Uncle Bunny. I guess I'm more like you that way. Sometimes, I just do nothing, and that seems to work all right too."

"You have the best of the two very different strengths Tommy and I had, Kenny. You have the good looks like Tommy always had, and the relaxed, soft approach that I preferred to use. I hear you've been trying to give Tommy pointers on how to elicit a better response from your mother?"

"No. I've been trying to get him to try to find out what she wants. Bea told me he's too selfish in bed. Dad says it isn't true."

"When getting girls has always come easy for you, you have no compelling reason to learn how to provide a woman pleasure. There's always another one who's standing around, willing to take the last one's place. Tommy always felt if he was satisfied, that was enough. I always hoped he'd change, and want to put more of himself into the process. With him, it's a case of not really trying. I haven't had the luxury of being presented with all of his choices. There isn't any bevy of beauties waiting off in the wings, anxious to give me a crack at them."

"I better go. Do you want me to tell Elizabeth to come back in?"

"I'm actually getting a little sleepy, Kenny. Why don't you all go out to lunch, and let me get some rest. I'm supposed to be released at three o'clock today. I'm going to catch a ride back home with Elizabeth, then I'm going to take care of some things that need taking care of. I need to get this done before flying up to Rochester on Wednesday. I tried talking to Bertie about Elizabeth, Kenny, but she's too worried right now, and for whatever reason, she and Elizabeth don't get along. I'm worried about Elizabeth's welfare, if something unfortunate were to befall me. I've put some cash away in the house for her, but it's really only enough for a month or two of living expenses. If something does happen, I want you to tell Tommy that I want him to see to it that Elizabeth doesn't have a hard time of it. She's a nice girl, and I've grown very fond of her."

"I'll tell him Uncle Bunny. You just worry about getting yourself better. Mama will do the right thing by Elizabeth if anything happens to you. I don't know why she worries so much about you and Elizabeth."

"I know she's worried, but I'm having a very good time with my Lizzie. She makes me happy when I come home every night. She isn't complex or demanding either. She's a sweet woman, and she likes being where she is."

Uncle Bunny was discharged, but it was long after three, closer to four thirty before he and Elizabeth drove away. We got a taxi out to the airport, and had to wait thirty minutes for the plane to be made ready for boarding and take off. Mama was even more upset after Uncle Bunny checked himself out of the hospital. We flew back to Bolling, and Hans was waiting for us when we touched down. Before I got in the back of the limo, I asked Hans about Shirley, and he told me she came downstairs at around ten thirty, and he drove her back home.

When we got home, Mama called over to Uncle Bunny's, but they weren't back yet. I got on the phone and called Shirley. It was already after seven o'clock when I called her. I told her about what Uncle Bunny had decided, about not having a bypass operation. She told me that her mom and dad were arguing ever since she got back home, about them both allowing her to come spend the night with me the night before. She said she didn't think they were going to let her do that again, not for awhile at least.

"Kenny, was last night much different for you?"

"It was great. I loved every part of it. What do you mean about it being different?"

"I'm not sure. It just felt different. I loved it too, and I think we both needed a night like that, but it seemed to me like something was different. Different might be the wrong word, maybe I should have said that something was missing from it. It wasn't that the sex was any different, that was great, I had the best orgasms. Maybe it was different because of us not talking?"

"I didn't get the same calm, peaceful feeling I usually get, but maybe it was just due to the tension of the past few weeks."

"I didn't feel something too. I don't know how to describe it either. You were just as loving, but I didn't feel as cherished or something. Sometimes before, you would just look at me, and I'd feel so special to you. It was like, wherever we were, when you looked at me like that, we were all alone. Do you think I'll ever get to have that feeling from you again?"

"I don't know. I think we're talking about the same thing, but we just see it differently. I felt it a little today though, when I was in Springfield. Uncle Bunny and his girlfriend had it. I couldn't really feel it, but I recognized it. Uncle Bunny had it, but maybe not Elizabeth. It was as though he was just more comfortable being near her. I think that's how I felt before, in addition to everything else, when we were together, I felt like I was in a calm place."

"Now you don't?"

"I guess it's just because we still haven't found a way to have these things be settled. I'll take how it was last night though. That was a lot better than it's been. I slept good too."

"You did? I got up at around ten. I didn't even hear you get up and leave. Thank you for the note. If I hadn't read that, I'd have been more nervous, waiting to see if you were going to call me."

"I think that's what it is right now, we're just a little nervous and tense when we're together. Uncle Bunny, even with all his health problems right now, he's perfectly comfortable about Elizabeth. I think my Dad gets that feeling sometimes too, but only about his work. I think it's a feeling of well being, an absence of any worries."

"Do you think it's gone for good, Kenny? I'd miss it a lot if it were."

"I don't think so. I think the conditions aren't right for it now, that's all. I bet it will come back for both of us. I'm glad it wasn't just part of the sex thing. If it does come back, we're going to have to try to take better care of it."

"I want it to come back for you first, Kenny. It makes me happy to know I can make you feel calm and peaceful sometimes. I loved it when I felt surrounded by your good feelings about me, but, I like giving that feeling to you even more."

"Maybe we better stop talking like this, Shirley. I'm already missing you again, and its only been a few hours. Can I come over tomorrow, and we'll go out and do something?"

"Tomorrow? I was hoping we could get together tonight. It isn't even seven thirty yet. Maybe we could go somewhere in your car and be alone again. I've never done that in a car before."

I drove over to her house, and we went out together for a drive. We ended up over by the golf learning center. It was cold outside, but we still managed to find ways to keep each other warm inside the car. We did it by having me moving over to the front passenger seat, and then having Shirley get on top of me, straddling my legs. The night before had been about us making love, and trying to close some of the emotional distance that had appeared between us. It had been a success.

This time, it was the same two hungry lovers, but lovers who were now firmly back together again. Two people looking and wanting more than simple sexual gratification for themselves. When we were done loving the first time, Shirley was content to just stay where she was, and we both appreciated that we were still connected. We spent a lot of time after that, kissing and whispering our love words. While we lay joined together, there was constant stroking, rubbing, and caressing taking place. I could feel her body reacting excitedly to wherever my hands came in contact with her. We spent pleasurable time connected that way, me softly exploring all the sensual places on her neck, with her planting light kisses of her own, and, sometimes, we'd be content to not even be kissing, just a gentle breathing against each other, in the places where we both knew the other was most sensitive.

This eventually led to yet another frenzied, and more insistent, coupling. This time though, as everything I had left in me, was sent forcibly up inside her, I felt that feeling of total calmness and peace slowly enveloping me. I didn't want to say anything to Shirley, because I was a little bit afraid that my making mention of it, could somehow cause it to disappear once more. I basked in the glow of it, until I started feeling a little guilty about keeping something so wonderful all to myself. When I finally lifted up her chin to kiss her, and to thank her for returning to me what we had somehow allowed to be lost, I could tell, just from her own expression, that she too had recaptured whatever it was that she had been missing. We had both been made whole again. Having come so close to losing what we had taken too much for granted before, we had both now learned to treasure what we had.

We didn't speak a word about what had been restored. We'd already discovered the danger of too much analysis and introspection. It was there, and we both knew it, and we rejoiced, but silently. There was no need or desire to speak of it. Our kisses became a shared communion. When I finally looked at my dashboard, I was totally surprised to see it was already past midnight. This was more than an hour past Shirley's Saturday evening curfew. Once we drove to her house, I walked her up to her door, but both her parents were already asleep.

At my house, it was a completely different story. Uncle Bunny had suffered yet another heart attack, on the drive from Springfield to his home. This time, Elizabeth had recognized the danger signs immediately, and had rushed him straight to the nearest hospital. Enzyme tests had confirmed another myocardial infarction, and again the doctors were advising Uncle Bunny to undergo a bypass operation. He was sticking to his guns though, and refusing to undergo the operation.

Mama and I had a few angry words, right after I told her I thought she should allow Uncle Bunny to make his own decision. We would have gotten into it even worse, if she hadn't realized that I loved Uncle Bunny too. As it was, we wished each other a good night, and went our separate ways to sleep.

On Sunday, Uncle Bunny was flown by helicopter ambulance, to Rochester, Minnesota. He underwent another angiogram before a team of doctors performed balloon angioplasty on him. He flew back home on Tuesday, on the company plane, and immediately began to exercise, and make a complete lifestyle change. His own family physician had located another doctor, one who incorporated chelation therapy into his regular medical practice. Uncle Bunny had to travel seventy miles each way, but three times a week, he went in and had an infusion of a man-made amino acid called EDTA. It usually took about three hours for each infusion, and Uncle Bunny said he was feeling better with each treatment. One of the things he said it had done for him was to improve his vision.

Everyday, no matter the weather, Uncle Bunny walked between three and five miles. He and Elizabeth really started studying about healthy foods to eat, and the best ways for them to prepare these healthy meals. They began eating mostly fresh foods and lots of raw, fresh vegetables. Uncle Bunny stopped using salt, he quit all alcohol use, and he and Elizabeth started drinking freshly blended juices, and healthy blended combination vegetable and fruit concoctions, which he and Elizabeth would experiment creating together. Everyone watched the changes that took place in Uncle Bunny. The weight coming off was the most noticable difference, but there were other things that began to appear as well. His complexion had stopped being pasty, and he started to take on a healthier skin tone. His facial appearance was dramatically altered by this tremendous weight loss. By mid April, he had dropped over fifty pounds, and he had a lot more pep and energy, more than any of us remembered him having. One of the biggest changes though, was the remarkable change in his work habits. He had hired on two new associates, turning much of his day to day legal practice over to them. He became little more than their supervisor, making sure that they took good care of his clients

He started planning a big trip for him and Elizabeth to take. They were planning on spending two months, July and August, traveling all through Europe. On Thursday, the first of May, 1986, Uncle Bunny got up at six o'clock, his usual time for rising. As he stood, getting ready to walk into his bathroom, he felt a tremendous pain behind his left eye. He grabbed at it, crying out, and waking up Elizabeth,. She turned so that she was facing him, only just in time to see him fall to the floor. Uncle Bunny had suffered a massive blood clot somewhere in his brain. He was pronounced dead in his own bedroom, by the medical examiner summoned by the emergency ambulance crew that Elizabeth had called to try to give Uncle Bunny medical assistance.

Uncle Bunny had been dead for only five days before Georgia Connor filed a lawsuit in Superior Court in Bolling, on behalf of both herself, and her minor daughter, Brenda, alleging paternity and breach of oral agreement. Uncle Bunny had written of his desire to be cremated, and this was carried out within twenty four hours of his body being released by the county medical examiner. One of Uncle Bunny's associates had a certified copy of Uncle Bunny's will, delivered to Mrs. Connor, as had also been specified in Uncle Bunny's final written instructions. He had anticipated that Georgia might try to file such a claim against his estate. In his will, he had left a bequest for both Georgia and Brenda, three million dollars for each. He had left Richard Connor one million dollars, to be paid only upon his successful graduation from the forestry camp, and from the Army Navy Academy. Brenda's bequest was conditional on her fulfilling several separate requirements. The first of which was her completing two full years of participatory therapy and academic instruction at the Ohio institution she had run away from the year before. Uncle Bunny's will also specified that his estate would underwrite all the tuition costs for both Brenda and Richard, all the way through post doctoral level course work.

Mrs. Connor's bequest was conditional upon her satisfying a single requirement. She was to never make any claim, either legally, or else disclose, in any public manner, that she believed Uncle Bunny to be the natural father for either of her two offspring. Should she do so, Uncle Bunny's bequest would immediately revert to his principle beneficiary. Having already filed her suit, Mrs. Connor had activated this forfeiture provision. Included with all of his legal papers was a clinical report, from the physician who had performed Uncle Bunny's vasectomy so many years before. The report showed a live sperm count of zero, six months after the operation had been performed. With Uncle Bunny's remains having been cremated, either Brenda or her mother would have difficulty proving that Uncle Bunny was capable of having fathered a child. The gross value of all Uncle Bunny's assets, after exhaustive professional appraisals, was a little less than four hundred million dollars. His principal beneficiary, me.

The only provision he had made for Elizabeth, was with his verbal request to me in that hospital room, over in Springfield. I spoke to Dad about what Uncle Bunny had asked for, and he assured me that Elizabeth would want for nothing, as far as material needs was concerned.

I felt a deep sense of sadness and loss at Uncle Bunny's passing. I was made humble from knowing that he had selected me to be his prime beneficiary. I expected either Mama or Dad, or even both, to be upset by Uncle Bunny's surprising designation of me as his principle heir, but neither seemed at all surprised, or even slightly upset by it. I tried to bring the subject up with Dad once, but he told me my mother's will had been written by Uncle Bunny, at the same time, and with a very similar set of provisions for me. Brenda had been right all along. I was going to be even richer than she had predicted.

All of Uncle Bunny's law practice had been bequeathed to a lawyer friend of his, with a practice up in Bolling. He had also been appointed as the remainderman trustee for several trusts Uncle Bunny had set up for me. The biggest trust though had named Dad as the new trustee.

On May 9th, when school would let out at Clement Academy, I had a big decision I needed to make. I probably would have decided to transfer to Ridgeline high school, if two different things hadn't happened at almost the same time. Clement Academy announced it was accepting a limited number of day students for the coming year, and then, only two days later, bowing to political correctness, and obvious fiscal realities, they also announced that enrollment was now opened up to female students.



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Chapter 37

As soon as Elizabeth called our house, to let Gerta know the terribly sad news about Uncle Bunny, Gerta and Hans stepped in and immediately knew they needed to take over. It was as though they had been on some kind of standby alert, just waiting for an emergency situation such as the one they now faced. Hans placed a phone call to Dad's office, and told him the grim news. Gerta climbed the stairs and went through to Mama's closed bedroom door. She paused for a brief period outside, knowing that telling Mama that Uncle Bunny had died would be one of the hardest and saddest duties she would ever have to perform. Someone had to do it though, and Gerta wasn't going to shirk away from performing that duty.

I was in third period when a call came in, requesting I be sent to the administration building immediately. I had no idea why they would be taking me out of class like that. We were starting finals the following week, and all of the classes were doing study reviews for the exams. Inside the administration building, the school director's secretary pointed at a phone, and told me I needed to call home. I knew something bad had happened, I could tell by the way the secretary was trying so hard not to look at my face. I thought first of Mama. She had been working so hard these past few months, trying to supervise all the details as the golf learning center complex began to take shape.

When I called home, Hans was the one who answered the phone. I could tell right away he was crying, just by the break in his voice when he answered.

"Hans, this is Kenny. They told me to call home. Has something happened to Mama, or to Gerta?"

"Kenny, you need to come home, to be here with your Mama. Gerta is up with her right now, and it's very bad. It's Bunny." Hans had stopped talking, and I could hear him sobbing, out of control, even though I knew he was trying to cover the mouthpiece of the telephone to prevent my hearing. "Kenny, come home and help Gerta with your Mama. Bunny died this morning."

I don't remember sitting down on the secretary's desk. I do remember the terrible pain I immediately felt from hearing Hans informing me of Uncle Bunny's death. Uncle Bunny had been the person who was most responsible for rescuing me from my previous life. He'd chosen me. There is no way I could fully express the gratitude and the love I felt for him for that. No one else had ever chosen me, picked me out of a virtual sea of other people and said, 'this is the one I want'. For someone like me, simply to be picked, for almost anything, was a very rare treat indeed. He was the first to make me promises, promises he'd always kept. I grew up expecting almost nothing, and he completely transformed my perspective about life and living. I was only able to look inward when we had first met. I was both unable and unwilling to share my emotions with any other people. Because of Uncle Bunny's choosing me, I now had a real future to look forward to and enjoy. He'd saved me from leading a pretty miserable existence.

Now, hearing the terrible news of his death, I felt a deep sense of shame from knowing I'd never taken the opportunity with him to discuss the incredible impact he'd had on altering every single aspect of my life. I'd never properly thanked him for everything he'd done for me. Even though I felt bad about never having thanked him, I could, and did, take some degree of comfort from knowing that I'd told him I loved him, on several different occasions. He had been so smart, he had to know that I was functioning much better now, so much better than I had been when he first came to the orphanage to get me, nearly two years before.

The secretary waited silently, for me to regain my composure. When I finally wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my school blazer, I saw her standing beside me, a completed campus exit pass in her hands. I took it from her and thanked her, before leaving the building and walking out to my car. I didn't bother with changing, or with picking up anything to bring home with me. My place was with my remaining family. The family that Uncle Bunny had single handedly made possible for me. I had an ironic thought that Elizabeth was now a part of my real family. Ironic because, in the past, I hadn't really considered her family because of any blood relationship that she and I might have shared. Now, because she had been important to Uncle Bunny, that made her family to me.

When I got home, Gerta was still upstairs with Mama. Hans was in the kitchen, and he told me that Dad had arrived before me, and was sitting alone in his study. I went over to Hans and embraced him, remembering all the many times that he had told me stories about Uncle Bunny's childhood antics, and about his many conquests in the back of the limo. Hans had loved Uncle Bunny, and this was a loss to Hans every bit as much as it was to the rest of us. I stayed in the kitchen with him, both of us struggling to accept the fact that Uncle Bunny was gone.

I went to the door of the study, and was about to knock on the door, when I heard my father inside, giving vent to his own private, grief. My father was a very reserved and private man, someone who wasn't closely in touch with his emotions. In fact, he tried to give the impression that he never had any, with the possible exception of his temper. I knew he wouldn't care to be intruded upon at a time when he was overcome by his own sense of loss. Uncle Bunny might have been his only real friend. More than thirty years of close association had kept them connected in a strongand positive alliance. Money was the oil that lubricated their friendship, but, even for someone as reserved as my father, this loss had to have been utterly profound. I stood outside his study door, wishing that he and I had the closeness that would allow us to try to comfort each other. I made myself a promise that I would try to fill some of the void in Dad's life that Uncle Bunny's absence would create.

I climbed the stairs slowly, not anxious to learn how badly my mother was taking the loss of her only brother. Uncle Bunny had been her twin, the one person she had always been able to count on to be there for her. I had only just opened the door to Mama's suite when I heard her and Gerta weeping together. It wasn't the quiet, protracted weeping that Mama did during the first parts of her depressions. This was a loud, unrestrained, and violent weeping. It was the kind of weeping you expected to come from a mother having lost her infant child. Heart rending weeping. I stood twenty feet away from Mama's room, and the sound of their anguish quickly reduced me to shedding more tears. When someone you love dies, you cry first for yourself, mourning your loss, and the deep hole being left in your heart. Later, you cry for the pain the death caused others, usually people that you care about too, loved ones who are being impacted by the death.

I cried for everyone I loved, even Shirley, because, even though she wasn't that close to my uncle, she would suffer because of how his death would affect me. I finally summoned the strength to push ahead and walk into Mama's bedroom.

"Look, Bertie, Kenny's here. He came home to be here with you."

Gerta was crying, and hugging Mama to her, like Mama was a child. She signaled me with her hand, to come closer. It was obvious that she needed me to come take her place. I came over to the bed and took Mama in my own arms, sitting down in the spot that Gerta had vacated. I'm not sure that Mama was even aware of the switch we'd made.

"Gerta, please have Hans go over to Uncle Bunny's house and get Elizabeth to bring her back here with us. Uncle Bunny asked us to look after her, in case something like this ever happened to him." Gerta nodded and left Mama and I alone.

It was difficult for me to speak to Mama about Uncle Bunny at first. I started out by talking to her about how I wished that I'd thanked him properly for rescuing me, and for bringing me home to be a part of his own family. I hadn't appreciated it enough at the time, but in choosing me, he wasn't just bringing home someone for his sister to pretend to be a mother to, he was picking me to be a real member of his own family. Realizing that this was true, it made his picking me even more of an honor. I recounted for myself and Mama, all the things that Uncle Bunny had done to entertain, amuse, teach, protect and comfort me. It was like a wake of sorts, and it worked, because Mama started talking about her brother too, about the lifetime they had spent together, and all the shared incidents and adventures that had woven them together to form an unbreakable bond.

"I loved Bunny so much, Kenny. Too much sometimes, for it to be healthy for either of us, I suppose. No one could possibly be nicer than Bunny. He got all the nice, and I got all the strength and resolve. It might seem strange for me to say that to you, but, even with my illness, I was always the one who made the tough decisions. Bunny would come to me when he needed to make a choice that he really couldn't bear to make himself. He could never stand up to our father. He would go along with Daddy's wishes, even when he hated to do so. If it hadn't been for me, Bunny could have never gone off to study law. Thomas played a big part in that, but it was my idea for Bunny to try to find a replacement for himself, someone my father could train to take over the company someday. Running a big company like ours takes toughness, Kenny. You need to have the ability to make decisions that will affect a lot of other people's lives. Bunny couldn't make those kinds of tough choices. He was better off handling other problems, taking care of people by managing their accounts, and conserving their assets. I don't know who will look after all his clients now. We'll have to remember to look into that. Knowing Bunny though, I'm sure he had a plan for taking care of them. There are so many of his clients where he supplemented their income, without their knowledge. We have to continue that somehow, because he'd want us to do that."

"We have to take care of Elizabeth too, Mama. Uncle Bunny told me she made him happy when he came home to her at night. He said she was sweet, and not complex or demanding. He said he was going to speak with you about it, but then he didn't because of how upset you were with his decision not to have that operation."

"I was jealous of her. I resented how she was able to settle him down, and make him contented to be with her alone. I was never jealous of Georgia, at least I wasn't jealous after the first few years. I knew Bunny recognized that she was just using him, and when I finally understood he was just using her too, I felt better. I could even stand the thought that he had always loved her. He knew any marriage to her would be a disaster. Bunny always had his other woman, it was the one way he had of standing up to Georgia. I need to call Georgia soon, to be the one to let her know about Bunny. She'll take it very hard. I won't have any problems with Elizabeth now, Kenny. When she comes, have Gerta put her in Jane and Grace's room. I want her to stay with us until she decides what she wants to do."

"Dad is downstairs in his study. He's taking Uncle Bunny's death pretty hard. I stood outside his door, and he was in there crying."

"Of course he's crying. Bunny was his only friend in the world. Real friend I mean, not the boys he went to school with, or his business associates. He could complain about personal things with Bunny. They each knew most things about the other. He would tell Bunny things he wouldn't consider sharing with anyone else. If he loved anyone in this world, it was Bunny. I don't know who he'll use as an emotional outlet now. Not me, I'm sure."

"Mama, it has to be you. He doesn't have any other choices. You need to use him too, to tell him the kinds of things you'd only tell Uncle Bunny before."

"No, we couldn't change roles that way. Your father and I are both strong in ways Bunny wasn't. I'll miss Bunny's softer influence on my colder nature."

"You aren't cold, Mama. Dad might be, but his is probably only an act too. I think he's trying to be someone who isn't at all like he would have normally wanted to be. I think he believes he has to be like that in order to be successful. Do you think he's trying to be like your father was?"

"I don't think so. My father didn't have to pretend anything, and he didn't. He enjoyed confrontations, and rough and tumble infighting. He was completely ruthless, and he really couldn't stand it when people tried to keep him from something he wanted. Compared to my father, Thomas is as soft as Bunny was."

"I need to ask you if you think you'll be going into another one of your depressions? I've got my finals all next week, and we'd need to have someone here to help Gerta, in case you did."

"You know, it's strange, but I don't feel like I'm starting my melancholia. You would think that Bunny's passing would trigger it for me. He's been such an integral part of my entire life. I'm going to be lost without him, but I don't feel at all like withdrawing from anything right now. I grieve him, mourn his loss, and I really do feel so sad. I can't understand why I don't feel depressed."

"I don't either, but there's so much going on now, things that you need to take care of. You better call Mrs. Connor like you said. I'm going to go downstairs and look in on Dad. Hans and Gerta are both taking this hard too, and they aren't that young anymore. You and Uncle Bunny were like their kids, Mama. We've got to make sure they don't get shunted aside during any of this. They are part of our family too."

When I left Mama and went back downstairs, I was surprised to see Shirley waiting in the living room. She told me that Gerta had called and told her mother about Uncle Bunny dying. I guess Gerta thought that maybe I might need Shirley to help comfort me. Mrs. Jones had driven to the high school and pulled Shirley out of her classes, to tell her the news. She drove Shirley to our house after Shirley indicated that she wanted to be with me. I was glad to see her, but I really needed to see to my Dad. I asked Shirley if she'd mind waiting while I went in the study and made sure he was going to be all right. She said she'd be fine with waiting for me to do that.

I went and knocked on the study door.

"Come."

"Hi Dad. I'm so sorry about Uncle Bunny."

"Kenny. Yes, terrible thing. I told him he should have listened to his doctors. That's what comes from thinking you know more than the experts." I could see that Dad had decided to play the role of someone who was emotionally unaffected by Uncle Bunny's death. I knew Mama and Uncle Bunny would have let him get away with it, and I also knew that neither would have been fooled at all by his pretending.

"Uncle Bunny loved you too, Dad. You don't need to pretend you didn't love him. Not with me, or with Mama. It's okay to love someone. We all loved him, and we're all going to miss him."

"I admit I was very fond of him, but he had a failing when it came to accepting good advice. Had he listened to all of us, he'd still be alive today."

"We don't know that, but it doesn't matter. He isn't alive, and we loved him, and we're all going to miss him terribly. That includes you, Dad, and I wish you'd stop pretending that you don't have the same feelings that all the rest of us have. I know you loved him, and I know you don't know how to drop this mask you always think you have to wear around all of us. You don't have to be strong all the time. There are times when you can let your guard down, and just be you. Uncle Bunny knew how you really were, and he loved that part of you too. You always try to hide from anything that has to do with feelings. I know what that's like, and I don't want that for you. I feel like shit about Uncle Bunny, but he's dead. I love you, and you're right here, and we shouldn't be trying to play any kind of roles with each other. I love you, and I know how bad you're hurting. I know you love me, and I expect you to share this pain with me. You're my father, and I need you to let go, for once, and think about what I need, and what Mama needs. I can tell you this much, it isn't you telling us about how Uncle Bunny should have listened to those doctors."

"This isn't something I'm good at, Kenny. I'm sorry, I wish I was able to say something more comforting to you. I know you're upset."

"That's you're trouble Dad, you know things. You think knowing is so damn important. Being able to go out and make a twelve percent return on invested capital is important, but it isn't important enough for you to base your whole sense of who you are on it. Uncle Bunny tried to tell you that money is great, but it isn't everything. I don't want your money, and Mama already has a lot more than you do. I need you to perform your fatherly duty to me. Tell me that you loved Uncle Bunny, that you're emotionally wrecked because he died. Then, tell me that you love me, and you'd do almost anything to take away the pain I'm feeling."

"Kenny, I" Dad had his hands up and he was as uncomfortable as I'd ever seen him be. He was right on the edge of crying again. His mask was already slipping badly. I didn't want to increase his pain, but it really ticked me off that he'd still want to hide behind this wooden persona he'd gotten so used to showing the world.

"You selfish son of a bitch! Your only real friend in the whole world dies, and all you can think about is trying to protect this stupid image that you've cultivated. You can't even bring yourself to be a real feeling person for long enough to give some comfort your wife and child?"

"That's enough! Kenny, I know you're overwrought, but I'm not going to allow you to turn Bunny's death into some kind of psychology workshop for you to try to get me to express feelings that I don't possess."

"I agree, that's enough, and I'll also admit I'm overwrought. You're wrong about this being some kind of psychology workshop though. Uncle Bunny's dead, and he was the one male in my life who was willing to admit that he loved me. I could turn to him for comfort when bad things happened to me. So now, because he's dead, I'm turning to you. This is the time, Dad. You either step up and treat me like your son, someone you love, or you just keep sitting there, hiding your feelings, and watch me walk out of here, knowing that you decided it was too uncomfortable for you to really be my father. You can't have it both ways with me. I don't know how Mama stands it, but I'm not going to. You either love me or you don't, but this is the last time you'll ever get the chance to tell me you do. Remember what your friend said to Mr. Connor, Spike? It's time for you to either shit, or get off the pot."

I stood there, watching a man that I loved and, in many ways, admired. I waited while he battled with himself, trying to decide over two very uncomfortable choices. He knew I wasn't bluffing, that I really meant what I'd told him. He had to tell me the words, or else he couldn't ever again pretend to be my father. Mama had suffered for years, hoping that he loved her, but not ever willing to face him down and force him to declare himself. She took pride in telling me how she was tougher than Uncle Bunny. I was doing this for myself first, and then for my Dad. Getting Dad to express some honest emotion, for me that was a debt I felt I owed to my Uncle Bunny's memory.

I hadn't been tough enough while he lived, to overcome my stupid self-consciousness. I hadn't ever told Uncle Bunny how much his coming to get me had meant. It had transformed my entire life. I wasn't going to be self-conscious this time. I looked at Dad, still struggling with those two choices. I knew I couldn't delay departing any longer. I'd tried. I turned away from him, glad that Shirley was outside, waiting for me. I was going to need her to comfort me, to take some of my pain away, and give me the calm and peace I'd need to bring the pain of this other wrenching loss down to some manageable level. Bunny's death had been a terrible blow for me, but certainly no worse then this loss I was about to suffer.

"Don't go, Kenny, you were right, I did love him, and I am going to miss him terribly. I love you too, and your mother. I was sitting alone in here, when you knocked, wishing that I'd said something to him, before, something to let him know that he was my best friend, closer to me than a brother. You kept telling me. I remembered what you told me before, about how I'd feel if something happened to Bertie, how I'd wish I'd told her. You were right. I don't know how I'd be able to take it if something happened to her." Dad was really crying by the time he stopped talking. I had moved back towards him and put my arm on his shoulder, feeling him shaking, as the painful sobs wracked through his body. All of that pent up emotion welled out of him, like a new gusher of oil spurting up out of the ground. It wasn't very pleasant to watch, but it was necessary, if he were ever going to become a well integrated person.

"Uncle Bunny knew, Dad. He was the only one of the three of us that you didn't ever need to tell it to. You did need to admit it to yourself though, because it's very important that you realize it, and that you stop trying to hide from it. I'm not sure why you believe that you didn't need to love people, or that doing so was a bad thing for you. Love is good, and loving can't hurt you nearly as much as not loving can."

"Kenny, I really do love Bertie. I realize that now, and I am going to tell her. She's got to be devastated by this news about poor Bunny. I got home, and Gerta was in there with her. I knew I'd be no good at trying to comfort her over something like this. When Senior died, I waited six hours for Bunny to come over here to tell her. Do you think Bunny's dying would be easier for her to take if she knew that I really did love her?"

"I don't think it would make Uncle Bunny's dying easier for her. I think she'd love to know it though. She's waited so long for you to decide that you did."

"Maybe this isn't the right time for me to be telling her. She and Bunny were so close. She might take it the wrong way."

"If you really mean it, how could she take it the wrong way? She's wanted you to say the words to her for almost thirty years. She's always hoped, but she's never believed. I wouldn't just start out by telling her that though. Maybe you need to talk to her about Bunny first, to let her know what you're feeling, and that you're sorry he's dead. Tell her you know we're all going to miss him. Just talk to her about all the feeling things first. You'll know when it's the right time to tell her."

Dad stood up and left the study, slowly making his way upstairs to his and Mama's room. I walked back out to the living room to be with Shirley. It was about half an hour after I'd left Dad's study, and I had my head resting in Shirley's lap. She was sitting up, with me stretched out the full length of the sofa. We had been calmly talking about Uncle Bunny. I was trying to explain to her about how much things were going to be changed without his steadying presence in our family. I heard Mama yelling from upstairs, and my first thought was that she sounded really angry. I saw Gerta and Hans come running out of the kitchen, both of them looking concerned. I got up, thinking that Dad had somehow managed to screw things up with my mother. I was almost at the bottom of the stairs, Hans and Gerta trailing close behind me, when Mama started screaming and yelling again. This time, all of us knew these were the screams of a woman in the throes of a deep passion. Hans and Gerta had even deeper frowns on their faces when they recognized those sounds for what they were. They were both offended at Mama's seeming lack of respect for Uncle Bunny's passing.

"He just told her that he loved her, for the very first time." I smiled at them as I told them that. "Uncle Bunny's death made him realize that he really did love her."

"It isn't the time for such carrying on. Bunny just died this morning." Hans spoke, and his sense of anguish was clearly evident.

"Don't be upset, Hans, or you either, Gerta. Listen to her up there. What could possibly be a better, or more fitting tribute for Uncle Bunny than something like that? If Uncle Bunny could only hear them up there now, he'd be so proud and happy. Even when he's dead, he's still able to help the women scream."

We all remained by the bottom of the staircase, listening to the passionate music that Dad was wringing from Mama. Sure, it was a little perverse, but life is perverse, and you have to take your moments of happiness wherever you can find them. After a few moments spent listening, I climbed the stairs with my beloved. If Uncle Bunny had taught me anything, it was to make the most of my available opportunities. I was going to miss him for the rest of my life, but miss him or not, I was going to live my life too. I knew that living well, and helping others, would be the best way for me to say a proper thank you to my uncle.


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The End
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Posted:  2006-07-16
Last Modified: 2006-11-01 / 07:52:49 pm
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