Storiesonline.net
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                               12th Grade
                               by Openbook

Copyright© 2006 by Openbook


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Description: Kenny tries to make the most of his opportunities. He finds his purpose and begins his journey towards achieving his goals.

Codes: MF mf Ff tears rom cons les bi D/S anal
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Chapter 1

Uncle Bunny had just been cremated the day before, and there was a small, private, inurnment ceremony in the family burial ground. Mama had invited Mrs. Connor and Brenda to the ceremony, not realizing, at the time, that Mrs. Connor's lawsuit would be filed and recorded up in Bolling, in less than twenty four hours.

Mama had made sure that I stayed close to Elizabeth, and so I found myself standing at the cemetery, with Shirley on one side and Elizabeth on the other. Brenda, and her mother, were being kept close to Mama. Hans and Gerta were there, standing right behind Mama. Dad had been circulating among two of Uncle Bunny's lawyer friends, and Grace and Jane.

We were just about ready to get the ceremony started, when Bea, showed up. Talk about your unexpected surprises. I recognized her just as soon as she stepped out of old Ernie's broken down taxicab. Ernie was a town monument, having operated a taxi service in Ridgeline for more than thirty years.

Seeing me, Bea smiled and waved, and started walking uncertainly, up the grassy slope. She had only taken about ten steps or so, before she stopped, and removed her high heels. Holding one in each hand, she started making her way up to where the rest of us stood. I couldn't resist smiling. This was so like Bea, I thought. For her to make a flamboyant entrance like she had. Uncle Bunny would have appreciated it too.

It took Bea another three minutes or so to climb the slight incline to the family plot. We were at the top of the steepest hill in Ridgeline. It must have been a full twenty five feet higher than the rest of the town. It was too bad that they used it as the cemetery, because, in the winter, it would have been a good place for kids to go sledding. When Bea opened the little wrought iron gate and stepped into the Chalmers family plot, I left Shirley and Elizabeth and went over to greet her and bring her over to where we were.

"Damn, Slick, you've really been growing. How mad is the old lady going to be that I came to this shindig?"

"Are you referring to Mrs. Parsons, Bea? If you are, I thought we had a deal? How did you find out about Uncle Bunny dying?"

"Gerta phoned me the day it happened. Hell of a thing. I was planning on coming back out this way soon anyway, so I hopped on the bus and here I am. Hell of a trip too. What did he die of? Gerta didn't know when I spoke to her."

"Some kind of blood clot in his head. This is Elizabeth, and this is Shirley. Elizabeth was living with Uncle Bunny when he died."

"I cooked for him, and straightened things out around the house." Elizabeth didn't seem to know who Bea was. I didn't think Uncle Bunny had mentioned her.

"That's nice. I never cooked for him, but I was known to straighten something out for him too, but there's a lot of water under that bridge. What did you say this long drink of water's name was, Kid?" Bea was giving Shirley one of her long, interested, looks. It looked like she thought Shirley was a big, tasty, morsel. I nearly made a comment to Shirley, about how I told her I wasn't the only one that wanted her. I didn't though.

"Her name is Shirley, Bea. She's my girlfriend, and she just turned sixteen. Hands off."

"How about those two there? Aren't they a couple?" She was pointing over at Jane and Grace when she asked me that.

"That's Jane and Grace, and yes, they are a couple. They stayed with us last summer, and they're working for Mama as soon as the golf learning center opens. I think they're ready to start the ceremony now. Are you coming to the house with us, after this is over?"

"I don't know. I left all my stuff over at the diner. I haven't really made any arrangements for anything yet."

"You'll stay with us, in your old room."

There was a small, not particularly religious offering made by one of Uncle Bunny's lawyer friends, and then it was Dad's turn to speak. He spoke of the statistics of his friends life, but not about the man. I guess he didn't feel comfortable undressing emotionally out in public yet. I hadn't been planning on saying anything, but I didn't want to have a ceremony with nobody celebrating Uncle Bunny's life, or who he was to all of us. I took a few steps forward, and then I started to speak.

"Uncle Bunny was a warm and wonderful man, everyone liked him. That was a good thing too, because he liked everybody right back. He enjoyed every day of his life, finding something to laugh at, and something interesting to do or see, it didn't matter where he went, because he always brought the banquet with him. He could go out on the golf course and shoot a score of one twenty, and then he'd sit in the clubhouse later, happily talking about a ten foot putt that he'd sunk for a triple bogey. He didn't keep score the same way that most people do. He was different in other ways too. Normally, people start out looking pretty good, and then, as they get older, they lose their looks, and then they die. Not Uncle Bunny. He dieted and exercised daily, for his last few months of his life. In the process of doing that, he dropped over fifty pounds of body weight. He was making himself as healthy and good looking as he possibly could. He loved life, he loved his friends, and his family. All his life, he loved women. He always wanted to please people, to make their lives a little bit better for having known him. He came into my life one day, less than two years ago. He was a complete stranger to me, and yet he came and rescued me. He was the first person I ever really trusted, and because of him, I can stand here like this, and tell all of you that I loved him. He gave me so much, and I never told him how much I appreciated all the things he'd made possible to me. Thank you, Uncle Bunny for choosing me, for loving me, and for helping me to learn to love you and others too."

It wasn't much, but at least it wasn't all cold, hard, facts and figures. Uncle Bunny hadn't been a numbers person, he was a people person. I led Bea over to Hans and Gerta and told them she'd be coming home with them. Mama came over and said hello to Bea and thanked her for coming. I noticed that Dad was wisely keeping his distance. I had driven out from school to attend the inurnment, but I had to get back in order to study for my Calculus final the next morning. I took Elizabeth and Shirley with me, after going over and saying a few words to Grace and Jane. They were driving back to Bolling, and had taken a day off from school to come pay their last respects to Uncle Bunny, and to give some comfort to Mama. We stopped off at Shirley's house to drop her off, and then I drove Elizabeth over to Uncle Bunny's house.

All of us had invited her to come over to our house, but she said she wanted to stay in Uncle Bunny's place for a little while longer.

"So that was Bea, Kenny? Bunny spoke of her often. She's very voluptuous, isn't she?"

"If that means huge tits, then yes, she is. You know that Uncle Bunny really liked you a lot? You made him comfortable. Mama said she could tell how much he liked you, and it made her jealous. She isn't jealous anymore. Uncle Bunny asked us to help take care of you if anything happened to him."

"I don't need taking care of, Kenny. I didn't stay with Bunny to be taken care of. We helped each other. I had to learn how to finally come to terms with the death of my late husband, and to start looking forward, instead of only looking back to the past. Bunny helped me to do that. The sex was an added bonus for both of us. He was very mellow. I couldn't ever smoke enough to get as mellow as he was, even when he first woke up in the morning. That was very sweet what you said about him today. He had this problem with believing that he ever made any real, meaningful difference with his life. Those two heart attacks really made him think about stuff like that. He got such a big kick out of you. He said you were going to do something big with your life, that you had all the tools you'd ever need."

"I wish I'd said something like that to him, when he was still around to hear me. He did so much for me, and I never even thanked him."

"Remember what you said about Bunny not keeping score like other people? He bragged about you all the time to me, about how smart you were, and how well you were getting along with your father. He couldn't have been prouder of you, even if you were his own son. Everything you ever did well, that was the same as you thanking him. I think Bunny knew he wasn't going to be here too much longer. I think he worried less about Tom and Bertie, knowing you'd be there if he couldn't be."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I think I'll go back to North Carolina for awhile, because that's where Lonnie came from. I'm ready to let go, but I want to go back and visit all the places we went to together. Bunny called it closure. He said I didn't give myself any chance to tell Lonnie goodbye. I don't know, but it just makes sense to me right now to go back there and do that. Maybe Bunny was right. I didn't make that mistake this time. I stayed right here and said goodbye to him."

"Wherever you go, you can always call any of us, and we'll help you if we can."

Elizabeth left a few days later. By then, all of us knew what Mrs. Connor had done filing that lawsuit against Uncle Bunny's estate. Dad had gotten the most upset, but Mama had called Mrs. Connor, and told her she'd made a terrible mistake. I heard her end of the conversation, and Mama never lost her temper. When she finally put the phone down, she started crying softly.

"She always wants something, Kenny. Bunny took care of so many things for her, for practically her entire adult life, but now she wants what she said he promised her. Bunny never promised her anything he didn't give her. She panicked when he died, and didn't trust him enough to wait and see. She's lost Walt for sure now, by going on record saying that Brenda isn't Walt's own child. I need to call Walt, to keep him from doing anything to bring Richard back here. Bunny made provisions for all of them except Walt."

"If she needed some money, why didn't she just ask you for it?"

"I asked her that same question, and that's when she told me about Bunny's promises to her. I've got one of Bunny's young men bringing her a certified copy of Bunny's will. She isn't going to like what she reads. She'll be filing suit against you next."

"Me? What did I do?"

"You've got what she wanted, Bunny's money."

"What money? I don't understand."

"With the exception of a few small bequests, and some trusts that Bunny set up, you are the named beneficiary of Bunny's entire estate. Georgia can contest the will, or she can go to court with her lawsuit. Either way she's going to lose. Bunny was an excellent estate attorney. Georgia has no legal precedent to stand on with her paternity claim, and, if she continues, she's going to cost Brenda and Richard the money that Bunny set aside for them."

That was how I first learned about Uncle Bunny making me his principal heir. I knew he was worth a lot of money, but I had no idea that I'd be getting any of it. Mama had seemed very calm and matter of fact when telling me the news. Mama was funny about money. She didn't care about small numbers. She never even looked over the charge amounts. They went over to Uncle Bunny's office, and his staff handled everything. To her, there was money, and there was MONEY. She did care about, and pay close attention to MONEY. MONEY was what she earned, and year over year growth of her principal net worth. What she had just told me concerned a lot of MONEY, and I didn't know why she wasn't a little bit upset or concerned by how Uncle Bunny had decided to dispose of it.

I wanted to spend a lot of time with Dad over the summer recess from school. He had made great strides without me on solving a number of pressing expansion problems. It wasn't nearly as exciting listening to him tell us what he'd done. Being there, and having a hand in shaping decisions, that was where it was at, at least as far as I was concerned. I made sure Dad knew I was planning on spending most of my vacation working with him too. I didn't want him thinking he needed another intern.

Shirley and I were playing an early round of golf on a Saturday, later in May. She was beating the pants off me. I'd been going to work daily with Dad. He'd started giving me my own list of things he wanted me to check into for him. We'd ride into work together, and he'd hand me my new list every morning. I could ask him questions if I needed to. Sometimes, if I knew more about what he was interested in finding out, I could get him that information quicker or easier. On the way back home, I'd drive, and he'd go over my list of answers or account of how the situation was solved or resolved. Sometimes, I wouldn't get something done, or he needed more than I had been able to get for him. Invariably, the next morning, I'd find that at the top of my new to do list.

"Shirl, Dad is driving me crazy with about half the things he gives me to do each day. Like yesterday, he asked me to call up three different suppliers to see what two different grains sold for. I spent an hour and a half on the phones, and then, it turned out that all the prices were within a few pennies of each other, at all three places. Our company doesn't even do business with any of those suppliers. Another one on his list, was for me to find out what an industrial building in Omaha had sold for four months ago. What possible use could he have for wanting to know that?"

"Did you ask him?"

"Sure. He said he was just curious, and wanted to know. He keeps me busy doing pointless things for him, and that doesn't leave me any time to get any of the things I want to work on done. I think he's doing it on purpose."

"Why would he do that?" Shirley had been looking at a long approach shot from out of the rough. If she tried to go right at it, there was a tree right in front of her ball's flight path. I waited for her to hit her shot before I was going to reply. "Why, Kenny? Why would he do that?" She made it clear she wasn't going to hit her shot until after I answered her.

"Maybe he doesn't want me to work on any of my own projects. Maybe he's trying to teach me some kind of lesson, I don't know." She turned back to her ball and hit a beautiful, low running closed three wood that bounced under the tree branches and rolled up onto the green. "That was a nice shot. Is that how you planned it?"

"No, I was trying to put some hook on it to draw it out and curve it back around. It didn't hook, but it stayed low enough that it turned out better. Ask your father why he does it."

I waited until Monday morning and then I asked Dad why he had me doing things that ate up my time, but didn't really accomplish much.

"I wanted to teach you an important lesson, Kenny. You don't realize the value of your time. I wanted you to see how much of it can be eaten up doing things that you could easily delegate to others. I give you my list, and all it costs me is a little spare time in the evenings. Everything on those lists was something I was interested in knowing or in getting done."

"How about those calls to get grain quotes from those three suppliers. We never buy from any of them."

"That was an important one. You better believe that within an hour of you calling, the word was out that we were shopping grain prices with new suppliers. I had Walt and another guy call me that afternoon with some revised quotes on their earlier bids. Remember that a one cent difference can translate into many thousands of dollars over the life of a grain contract. We probably saved fifty or sixty thousand dollars because of those phone calls."

"Who am I supposed to delegate to?"

"I don't know. I know I'm delegating to you, and it's been saving me a lot of time to work on things I can't afford to delegate."

"What's the benefit to me to learn about delegating, if I'm the one you're delegating to?"

"Work hard, get promoted, and then you can start delegating to your assistants."

"I already work hard. When do I receive my promotion?"

"That's a tough one for you, Kenny. We're grooming you for my job, and it will be awhile before I step down."

"Can I hire an assistant intern? If you're grooming me, don't I need to learn all about how to delegate."

"Well, you can hire an assistant, but the pay is only seventy percent of what you're making now."

"I'm not making anything. I'm not on the company payroll."

"That's going to be a problem for you. I found an intern willing to work for nothing, so at least you know it can be done."

Dad thought he was being funny, but Shirley only had two more weeks of school before she was out for the summer. She always asked me questions about what I did at work anyway. I might not be being paid, but I had almost an unlimited expense account. I wondered how much seventy percent of almost unlimited was?



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Chapter 2

It took me over a week to convince Dad that I needed an assistant. Somehow it offended his sense of what was right and proper. I was still over a month away from having my seventeenth birthday, for one thing. Way too young to have any need for an assistant. Dad already knew that it was Shirley I had in mind to assist me, and he worried that I'd forget about business, and only concentrate on having fun with her. I assured him that my mind would be firmly fixed on business.

"Kenny, because you're one of the owners, it isn't a problem that you aren't on the payroll. That same rule exception doesn't apply for Shirley. If we put her to work, she'll need to be paid."

"I can probably force her to accept a pay check. I'm sure she'll resist at first, but if I explain she can only charge expenses if she's on the payroll, I'm sure she'll eventually come around." Dad made a pained face, not appreciating my attempted humor.

"Two hundred a week, and she isn't authorized any expenses."

"I'm still going to be able to use my account, right? I can tell you right now that Shirley is going to be one of my main expenses."

Dad threw up his hands at the whole preposterous idea of me needing or wanting an assistant, before getting up and going back into the library to make himself another drink, then retiring to his study. Mama had watched and listened to the entire exchange, never indicating by either words or facial expression, her opinion.

"Nicely done, Kenny. I think he was prepared to give in to you anyway, but, after you assured him you wouldn't allow yourself to be distracted, he became curious to see if you'd really be able to manage it."

I phoned Shirley, after finishing my little cautionary talk from Mama, offering her the job as my assistant intern. She immediately accepted, telling me that it would be her pleasure to work under me. I hoped I hadn't made a mistake in hiring her. I'd meant what I said to Dad, and I was serious about accomplishing a lot over the summer break. Shirley was anxious to start; finding out that she'd be paid too, was just so much added icing on the cake for her.

I spent two days in the beginning of June getting acquainted with Uncle Bunny's friend, the lawyer he'd bequeathed his law practice to. His name was Frank Clooney, and he had gone to the same law school as Uncle Bunny. He was around forty years old, and he specialized in trusts and estate planning. The two associates that Uncle Bunny had hired after his second heart attack, were being kept on, along with the entire accounting and secretarial staff.

According to Frank, Uncle Bunny had set up several trust accounts that were going to be used to assist some of his clients. These were mainly elderly people, widows or widowers with fewer assets than required to pay for their maintenance and support. Many of his clients were in assisted living situations, and the inflation of the seventies had decimated their too small fixed incomes. Rather than have them moved to a less expensive living environment, Uncle Bunny had routinely just made up the shortfall out of his own pocket.

I wasn't sure why Frank was insisting on giving me an accounting of all Uncle Bunny's practice and commitments. He certainly didn't owe me any explanations. When he got around to opening up the file on the Coulter family, I finally understood. He was intending to step in where Uncle Bunny had been forced to step out. He went over all of Uncle Bunny's instructions with me, making sure that I wanted to continue with all the plans that Uncle Bunny had set into motion. There were several lesser accounts that had been set up by Uncle Bunny to fund various projects. The expenditures thus far lodged against the Coulter account was already greater than sixty-four thousand dollars, including a twenty-five thousand dollar donation to the Catholic Church's Artifact Restoration Fund. When I asked about what that was for, Frank laughed, telling me that this was the grease that Uncle Bunny had used to be sure that Aunt Clara's release from her vows slid along without a hitch.

"Did Uncle Bunny explain about who the Coulters are, Frank?"

"Sure, Bunny kept meticulous records. Everything he did has file notations and comprehensive written explanations. Before he died he put a friend of ours on retainer, to take care of any business law questions, and he had other people selected, people who should be able to handle any specialized problems that might come up. My skills are more in protecting and managing assets, and keeping track of account details. If you need something, you just have to let me know. If I can't take care of it myself, I'll get someone who is able to handle it for you. For the most part, as far as your legal needs are concerned, you can rely on me to represent you and secure the best advice available."

"Uncle Bunny just listened to what I wanted, and then he thought of the best way to do it. I never had to worry, because it was always taken care of."

"I hope I can replace at least some significant portion of what Bunny accomplished for you, Kenny. I want you to feel comfortable calling me whenever you have something you wish to discuss. I owed Bunny a lot. He helped save my bacon once, during a time I might have lost my ticket to practice law. Leaving me his practice like he did, that was wholly unexpected."

"This money Uncle Bunny left in the trust accounts, is it enough to do some other things with it? I have some money in trusts too, but I'm not sure how I can access it."

"Tell me what you want to do, Kenny, I'll look into it, and I'll get back to you with a list of possible options."

I had been thinking a lot about what Uncle Bunny had done for me. I didn't think I could do anything as great as what he'd done for me, but I knew I could try to do something. I was young, but I wanted to get started, slowly at first, then, after I knew what I was doing, increase things until I could make a significant impact.

"I want to help people adopt kids from the orphanage where I was raised. The ones that are ten years old or older."

"Don't they already have an adoption program? I'd be very surprised if they didn't have a good program already in place."

"Yes, but it only works for the younger kids. Nobody wants any of the older kids. I thought it would be good if we could do something to make it easier for people to adopt these kids, make it more attractive for them."

"I see. Are you planning to offer some type of incentive?"

"I thought we could find people who want to adopt, but have been turned down for some reason. We could step in and try to help them. We'd only help them with an adoption if they agree to take one of the older kids that we have picked out for them. Maybe giving them free legal help, or helping them with the adoption expenses. Some people are too old to adopt, but they don't want to just be foster parents. I remember one couple they turned down because their apartment wasn't nice enough. Another time, the man had some kind of criminal thing that he hadn't disclosed. I think it was because he stole a car when he was seventeen, or something like that. They went to the people's house and took the kid away from them. The boy they took back to St. Cecelia's really liked those people too. The last time I visited there, he was still at the orphanage."

"I'm not sure it would be wise for us to try to circumvent the adoption eligibility criteria. Perhaps, if age were the sole disqualifying point."

"Frank, my own parents wouldn't have normally qualified to adopt me. Uncle Bunny fixed it for them. There's a lot of people who really want to adopt, but they aren't allowed to. I know you think it's better to wait for some perfect family to come along and adopt these kids, but that isn't what happens. Most of the kids I have in mind for doing this with, they wouldn't care about who was adopting them. Unless you've lived at an orphanage, you don't understand that almost any place else would be better. They do the best they can, but it isn't enough. All the kids feel like rejects. Go over to St. Cecelia's and ask Mother Superior to give you the big tour. Remember, they're going to be trying to make it seem as good as they can. Look at where the boys sleep, check out the clothes they're wearing, and then, go take a look at the food they're eating. It wouldn't take very much for any home to be better. The main difference wouldn't be in the food, clothes, or living conditions. It would be having somebody come pick them, to choose them to come be a part of their family."

"I'll go check on it in the next day or two. Will they let me in just like that?"

"Tell them you work for Mr. Parsons. Mother Superior wants to keep on our family's good side. She'll give you the red carpet treatment. If not, I'll get Dad to call her. She'll let you in. If you see any of the bigger boys, try to speak with them. Ask them how they'd like to be adopted."

I drove away from Uncle Bunny's office. Well, it was Frank's office now. I was still unconvinced about whether we could work together. I'd wait and see what he did with my plan for getting those boys adopted. He didn't have Uncle Bunny's easy way of handling things, that much was obvious. Uncle Bunny had always known what to do. You didn't have to fill in all the details for him. If Uncle Bunny had been there, I would have just told him to help get some of the older kids adopted, and he would have gotten back to me later, with his own really good plan, one that was already being implemented. I was missing Uncle Bunny. He'd made everything so easy for me.

Bea had left the day after she arrived for Uncle Bunny's ceremony. She spent that one night at our house, and then said she had to go visit her family. Two weeks later, Gerta asked Mama if Bea could come back and use her old room for a few weeks, just until she decided what to do next. Bea had told Gerta and Hans that things hadn't worked out so good in California. She had met someone, and they had started living together, but something happened and they had split up. Bea didn't talk to Gerta much about this other person, but she and Hans thought it might have been another girl. Mama gave permission for Bea to stay with us, but she made it clear that Bea was going to be considered Hans and Gerta's guest.

Mama and Bea got into a big fight the third day she was back staying with us. Bea had been sitting in the living room, talking on the telephone for about an hour. Mama asked her to wind her call up because she wanted to make some calls herself. Bea told her she only needed a few more minutes, and Mama yelled at her to 'hang up the phone, now'! By the time Dad and I got home, the tension had spread all over the house. Hans and Gerta were kind of caught in the middle. They both wanted to help Bea. I liked her too, but I thought she should have gotten off the phone as soon as Mama asked her to. Mama wouldn't have asked her without having a good reason for it. As a guest, Bea should have been more considerate.

Bea had decided she didn't want to stay with us anymore, and she was in her old room, packing up her things.

"Hey, Sport! Come to throw me a going away bop? God knows I could really use one. I need to go make some money, and get back to someplace where I can fend for myself. Country living isn't my thing."

"Why did you do that, Bea? You know how Mama is."

"I was talking to somebody. She could have waited if she wanted to. She could have gone into Tommy's study, and used his business line. What's the big deal? She just wanted to come down on me. She's the queen bee, and she wants to make sure all us peons know it."

"We haven't really had a chance to talk, Bea. You seem a little sad. Did something bad happen out in California?"

"Good and bad, Slick, good and bad. I did a dumb ass thing. I fell head over heels in love, and it just didn't work out. We were too different. I knew that going in, but what can you do?"

"Was it another girl?" I wanted her to know that I wouldn't care if it was. Bea was a friend, and I already knew she had done things with girls.

"You know, I'm not sure what Rain is. That's the great thing about California. Rain was a real freak. She had mixed equipment, breast implants, and a dick. She said she was whatever I wanted her to be. I thought it was perfect, at first, the best of both sexes. It turned out, I'm not enough of a freak for Rain. I always thought I was way out there, practically on the edge, but I've led a sheltered life compared to the shit Rain was into. I had to draw the line before somebody got hurt. Or killed. I packed up and left, but, I made the mistake of coming back to visit. Love and freaks, they don't mix well, but, a girl's got to go where her heart tells her. Tell you the truth, I needed just a tiny push to leave, and, when Gerta phoned about Bunny, I jumped on it as an excuse to get out of that town."

"Where do you plan to go?"

"It doesn't matter, not as long as it's out of here. Could you give me a ride to Bolling? I can manage things from there."

"I could find you a place closer for the night, over with my Aunt Clara. She's got the room now that her mother and sister are in treatment."

"What sort of treatment?"

"Alcohol treatment. Her sister is my birth mother, and the other woman is my grandmother. Aunt Clara's a nun."

"A nun, and they let her live at home?"

"She's a special case. She's on leave while she withdraws from her order and stops being a nun."

"She's quitting? Just like that? I thought it was impossible to quit."

"Uncle Bunny helped her with it. It's taking her a long time to do it, but she's going to be released soon."

"Kenny, do you think I'd fit in staying with a nun?"

"I could go ask Mama if you could stay at the apartment in Bolling for a few days."

"I don't want you asking her for anything for me. How come she isn't hiding under her blanket or drooling in her closet right now anyway? I would have thought this thing with Bunny would have snapped her for sure."

"I don't know. I thought so too, but it hasn't. The golf learning center has gotten behind by three weeks already, and she's been working all the time trying to get things ready for the delayed opening. There's too many things she needs to do herself now that Uncle Bunny isn't here to take care of them."

"How old is this Aunt of yours?"

"Jeez, I don't know. Older than you. Maybe thirty-five or forty."

"She look anything like you?"

"I don't think so. Same hair color, except hers is a little darker, and a lot shorter than mine."

"You want to know what I'm thinking?"

"I don't think so. This is my aunt."

"Kenny, think about it, How many chances do you get a shot at seducing a nun? I was a Catholic once you know? I've already done things with a priest. This would be two legs of the triple crown for naughty Catholic girls."

"Bea, this is my aunt. What's the other leg?" I admit, it did have a sort of morbid fascination for me.

"A threesome, with a priest and a nun. I've had that fantasy for years, maybe since I was about twelve."

"I don't think Aunt Clara hangs around with any priests. She went into the convent when she was a young girl. You wouldn't really try something with her? Not really?"

"It's just a thought. Why don't you give her a call? See if she has room for a visitor. Don't say anything to spook her either."

"Bea, this isn't what I had in mind when I told you I might have a place you could stay for a few days."

"I'm not going to rape her, Kenny. She might not be my type anyway."

I knew that Aunt Clara would turn out to be Bea's type. She had that look in her eye as we were talking. Uncle Bunny was her type, my dad was her type, I was her type. She had even told me she was considering Hans. She had just finished telling me about the guy in California, the one with a dick and fake breasts. She told me she had loved him or her. No, Aunt Clara couldn't depend on not being Bea's type.

"Can I tell her that you like girls?"

"Kenny, you know I don't just like girls. There's some things I like about women, and there's some things I want from a guy. You can tell her I like people, but don't bring up anything about sex."

I left Bea's room feeling like I had offered Bea something without thinking it through. I didn't want to turn Bea loose on my Aunt Clara. Bea was a professional, and Aunt Clara didn't have any experience dealing with someone like Bea. For just a second, I thought about the two empty bedrooms over at Shirley's house. Both her brothers wouldn't be home for another two weeks. I remembered the look that Bea had given Shirley, at Uncle Bunny's inurnment service. I started hoping that Aunt Clara wasn't home. I would get Hans to take Bea over to Bolling, and rent her a prepaid room for a week. I'd get some money from my Dad to pay Hans back.

Aunt Clara answered the phone on the second ring.

"Hi, Aunt Clara, it's me, Kenny. How are you doing?"

"Kenny, what a pleasant surprise. I'm well, thanks. Is everything all right with you?"

"Has your mom told you where she gets the booze yet?"

"She's said a few things, but she's been doing so well at the center. I'm hoping she will get completely well, and then want to tell me where everything is. I know it's very expensive, but Mr. Chalmers did say that it wouldn't be a problem, no matter how long she stayed. Is his death going to mean any changes in that?"

"No, that's not a problem. I was just curious. What about your sister? Did her relapse set her release date back a long time?"

"I'm afraid so. Anne has a mental dependence on alcohol. She had gotten beyond her physical addiction, but not her self-destructive desires. It's going to be at least several more months before she's ready to come back home."

"I want them to take as long as they need with her. Tell them not to release her too soon, not until they think she has a good chance to stay sober."

"She's very fortunate that you are so forgiving of her earlier treatment of you. It's not everyone who would have forgiven her."

"I haven't forgiven her. I don't know if I ever could forgive her. I don't know her, but I need her alert so that she can answer my questions. I don't want anything bad for her, but that doesn't mean I'm going to forgive her."

"I see. Our Lord teaches forgiveness, Kenny. It isn't your place to punish or torment her."

"Have I said anything about doing anything bad to her?"

"We were speaking of forgiveness. You've been given a fantastic opportunity, Kenny. I hope you'll think about everything and give Anne the forgiveness that only you can bestow on her."

"Are you speaking as my aunt, or as a nun? It makes a difference to me which hat you're wearing."

"My decision to leave the sisterhood doesn't change any of my fundamental beliefs, or the many things I've learned in my religious education and training. The values remain unchanged."

"I see. I guess that means you're advising me as a nun then. I needed to ask a favor of you, Aunt Clara. A family friend is visiting with us, and she and Mama sort of had a falling out. It wasn't over anything important. I was wondering if you would be willing to put her up, over at your house? Just for a few days, until Mama gets over being mad."

"A family friend?"

"Yes, Bea, that's her name, used to be Mama's companion, but she moved to California until she came out for Uncle Bunny's inurnment. She's staying with us until she decides what to do."

"A companion? Is that like a nurse?"

"No, it's more like a friend. Uncle Bunny used to call her Mama's friend and boon companion. She's nice."

"Very well. When would she be coming over?"

"I thought I'd drive her over right away, if that's all right with you?"

"It will be fine. You should warn her that we don't eat the kinds of fare you offer over at your house."

"Don't worry, Aunt Clara. One thing about Bea, she'll eat almost any, uh anything. She's not very picky at all."

I got off the phone and walked back to Bea's room. I felt a little guilty, but, I'd never liked it when any of the nuns tried to get me to do what they wanted by citing passages in the Bible, or telling me about what Jesus wanted. I hadn't set Aunt Clara up, not exactly. I was pretty sure that Bea would back off if her attempt at seduction proved totally unwelcome. Better Aunt Clara than me, or Shirley.

"Are you ready yet, Bea? Sister Clara is dying to meet you. She wanted me to tell you that you won't be eating the same thing there that you are used to eating here."

"I don't mind. Listen, is any of what we were talking about going to really bother you? I was half joking. You know how I am."

"Bea, I know exactly how you are. From the way you've been talking, I bet it's been a while since you've been taken care of. I remember how antsy you'd get when that happened. Remember this is a Catholic nun, Bea, an innocent nun who took her vows at a very young age. She isn't a sophisticated, experienced woman like you are. She's probably never even thought about anything like what you're hoping for. Fantasy or not, I trust you won't use force?"

"Force, no, I'd never do that. Does that mean you're okay with me taking a little run at her?"

"Well, she's probably not your type anyway. As long as it wasn't just something that was all your idea. I doubt that anything would come of it anyway. She's not the type of woman that would want to do things with another woman."

"You've got a lot to learn still, Slick. A lot to learn. Nun or not, she's still a woman. You'd be surprised what happens when the right opportunity comes along."

"Don't tell me about it, no matter what happens. I don't want to know."

I drove Bea over to the house on Grafton Street. Even from the outside I could see that Uncle Bunny had kept up with sending over repair crews. The house looked a lot nicer. I parked up in the new concrete driveway, wanting to be close to the door to help Bea move her things in. Aunt Clara opened up the door at my knock, and it took about one second before I knew that Bea was going to be two thirds of the way on her quest for the naughty Catholic girl's triple crown. Bea was looking at Aunt Clara like she was her next main course, while Aunt Clara was fidgeting and shifting like a ten-year old needing to pee. I was damn glad I remembered what happened that time at the country club when I got punched, kicked and almost wound up losing Shirley. I left quickly, telling myself it was none of my business, and I didn't want to stay and watch them. By the time I got back home, I had almost convinced myself that it was true.

Later, out in the kitchen with Hans and Gerta, I described the reactions of Bea and Aunt Clara when they first laid eyes on each other. Hans thought it was hilarious, but Gerta looked concerned. I finally calmed down, over being nervous about what I had done. Even if it turned out that I had done something to offend Aunt Clara, I was sure she'd forgive me. If she didn't, I'd remind her that the Lord taught forgiveness. Something told me that Bea would soon be visiting Catholic churches in the outlying communities. Based on Aunt Clara's reaction to Bea, it wouldn't surprise me if Bea achieved her triple crown pretty soon.



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Chapter 3

It was early in June, three weeks later than originally scheduled, before the grand opening of the golf learning center finally occurred. The delays had been caused by some of the sub-contractors not meeting their deadlines, and by Mama not being satisfied with some of the work that had already been done. If Mama wasn't satisfied, she wasn't going to release the final large payments.

There were a lot of threats of legal proceedings against her, but she knew exactly what she wanted, and what had been promised. All the building or course construction contracts had been drawn up by Uncle Bunny, each containing clauses requiring that her satisfaction was needed before any release of a final payment became necessary. When the various contractors concluded they had no other choice than to do so, those things in dispute were finally done the way Mama had wanted them to be. The golf academy was ready for the first class of students. The first two week teaching session was filled to capacity with eager young students from all over the country.

At the dedication ceremony, Mama announced that the facility was going to be named the Bunny Chalmers Golf Academy. It took only two sessions that first summer, before everyone referred to it simply as: 'Bunny Chalmers'. A capacity session was made up of one hundred sixty students. There were forty junior instructors/live-in counselors, twelve resident teaching professionals, and a whole series of special golf instructors who were being brought in to teach half day seminars in their playing specialties. Mama had set room, board, and tuition at twenty five hundred dollars per student, per session. Her goal was to attract only those young people who were serious about improving their golf games. Mama had set aside forty places for possible scholarship students for those without the resources to otherwise attend.

From the beginning, Mama had wanted the Academy's emphasis to be on teaching young female golfing students. That was where she spent most of her advertising budget, trying to get the word out that there was a program that catered to girls from thirteen to eighteen years of age. In that first session, there were one hundred thirty two young girls, and twenty eight even younger boys. The first three days were taken up with conducting skill assessments, and included a very comprehensive professional equipment fitting for each student. Every aspect of each enrollee's game was looked at, assessed, and analyzed. Four of the major equipment manufacturers had sent large trailers, all fully staffed with swing analysis experts, and their most accomplished club fitters. They recognized an opportunity to look over the cream of the current crop of junior girl golfers, and to form relationships that could very well carry over and produce large returns in the future.

Mama had planned for six two week sessions as the main Academy offering, with a number of three day specialty sessions, open to the general public, to run concurrently. In addition, private lessons, with special instructors, were being offered throughout the rest of the playing year, from May to October. All of the Academy sessions were broken down into groups of four golfers. After the assessment period, students were regrouped, reassigned according to their abilities.

Mistakes were made during that first session, but each student was kept busy, and challenged, from early morning, until ten at night. There was a heavily structured training schedule for every participant to follow; one that was customized daily for them as the session progressed. The goal was to help each golfer improve those aspects of their game that most contributed to their being able to play better golf. Some of the golfers spent a lot of their time on the various practice ranges, perfecting their swings, or learning better ways to hit a particular type of shot. For others, there was mental training, learning how to handle some of the thinking aspects of their game.

At the end of the first session, after deducting all operating costs for the two weeks, Mama had an operating profit for the session. Whether she would be able to continue operating in the black was still to be determined. The second session, like the first, was booked to full operating capacity. By the end of the second session, Mama proudly informed us one night at dinner, that all six sessions had been fully subscribed. With all the additional revenues from equipment sales and the three day specialty sessions, Mama was anticipating a return on investment of just under three per cent for the Academy's first season of operations. While not in any way competitive with her normal investment expectations, Mama announced that she was personally satisfied with that level of return. She was doing something she had wanted to do, and it wasn't costing her any out of pocket money to do it. My Dad seemed satisfied as well.

The day after her school let out for her, Shirley became my assistant. I was pretty pleased with myself for arranging to have my own assistant. I was looking forward to doing some delegating of my own. The very first day, as we drove to Bolling in Dad's car, Shirley told me she was looking forward to meeting Ellen.

She didn't say Ellen though. Instead, she called her "that girl you let play with your dick." She said it just loud enough for my Dad to hear her. I had let that incident slip my mind completely.

"Did you hear that Clement Academy is taking day students next year? Boys and girls. I'm thinking about becoming a day student. You should talk to your parents about transferring out there with me. It's a great school. It's hard, but the teachers are really good."

"Are you trying to change the subject, Kenny? If you are, it isn't going to work."

"I'm not changing the subject. I'm sure you'll meet all the employees before the summer is over. Aren't you worried that it might make me uncomfortable, especially if you went out of your way to meet Ellen, or were to ask her questions about that time? That was something that just kind of happened, and it hasn't happened since that one incident."

"No, why should I care if it makes you uncomfortable? I just want to meet her anyway. I probably won't talk to her about that."

"Really?"

"No. Of course I'm going to talk with her about that. You need to be realistic, Kenny. You never did tell me how it all happened, and I want to find out from her, now that I've got the chance. I don't think most girls would just grab a guy there, not for no reason. You must have done something to make her think it was all right."

My Dad laughed out loud at that, mostly at me. I gave him a dirty look, but he was driving and didn't notice it. Why was it that girls could spoil something with just a single sentence? I'd really been counting the days and looking forward to Shirley finishing with her school year so that the two of us could work together.

I had been hoping that we could have a great summer, and get good things accomplished for the business. I had been thinking of how great it was going to be having her right there with me every day. Now, I felt like I'd been told I had to walk through a mine field wearing a blindfold. My dad decided to give me a break by passing me back the list of things he wanted me to handle for him that day.

I didn't have an office, or any fixed place to work from. I did tell the three Johns in maintenance, that my father had let me hire my girlfriend as an assistant for the summer. When we got into work that Monday morning, Myra, my Dad's secretary, told me that John from maintenance needed to see me as soon as I arrived.

I left Shirley with Myra to give her a chance to fill out her employment information, while I went down to the maintenance area to see what they wanted.

What they wanted was to show me the offices they had set up for Shirley and me over near where Miss Walters offices were located. There were four rooms set up, two offices, with phones, desks and chairs. There was also a third room, one which was accessible only from off of my office. Inside was a bedroom, complete, with its own connecting bathroom. There was a nice shower in the bathroom.

The bedroom had a king size bed, a wall mounted television set, a small refrigerator, and a maroon Naugahyde covered sofa. The bedroom had its own deadbolt lock from the inside. There was another locked door inside the bathroom that opened out into a seldom used back stairwell going down to the employee break room off of the loading dock. John told me that I had the only set of keys to open both those doors. I was very pleased that they had taken the trouble to set this up for Shirley and me. I gave John a hundred dollars for the maintenance department's entertainment fund, with a promise of more to come in the very near future.

I sat at my new desk, trying to figure out a way to let Shirley meet Ellen without having a big scene in front of any of the other people. I didn't want to have anything bad happen in front of people that I needed to work with. Maybe I could arrange for a first meeting away from the plant. It was another hour before I left my office and headed back up to my Dad's office. I still hadn't figured out how I was going to manage that meeting.

When I got to my Dad's office, Myra told me that Shirley had finished up her paperwork and had decided to take a self guided tour of the plant. I turned right around and headed straight for the phone room, hoping to get there in time to minimize the damage of Shirley's first meeting with Ellen.

When I got there it was too late. Ellen and Shirley were sitting on bean bag chairs in the lounge portion of the phone room. Ellen was speaking, and Shirley, was rolling around on her bean bag, laughing so hard that she was holding her sides. Ellen's mom, Edith, was standing by the coffee machine, listening to Ellen, a big grin on her face as well.

"Kenny!" As soon as she saw me, Ellen shouted out her greeting. Shirley tried to swivel around on her bean bag chair with little effect. She finally had to roll all the way over on her other side in order to get me in her view.

"Are we going to get some work done today, Shirley, or are you just going to walk around getting familiar with everything?" I don't know why I was acting so worried, but just the thought of those two sitting around, discussing me, had me on the verge of a panic. I really cared for Shirley, and I didn't want her to start thinking of me in a bad light. I was afraid that Ellen might tell her something that would make that one incident seem worse than it had been. Worse in terms of my having been more of a contributor to what happened in the car with Ellen than I had told her I was. I thought I'd been honest, but those things are open to individual interpretation. Suppose Ellen started exaggerating to make the incident seem funnier? I could think of a thousand reasons to keep those two people apart. Shirley stood up.

"I thought I'd spend some time with Ellen today. She told me she could show me around for awhile, and then we thought we'd all go to lunch this afternoon, you, me and Ellen." I really had no choice, so I smiled and told them both I'd meet them in the order room at noon. I turned around and left right after saying that.

The first thing on my father's list was for me to go down to the order pulling supervisor to tell him to fire two of the workers. He had written down their names, and next to each name, he'd listed several reasons for letting them go. They were both relatively new hires, brought in when we changed over from the old way we loaded the delivery vans. I wondered why Dad was having me do it, especially since all he had to do was lift up his phone and tell the supervisor himself.

Roy Falson was the supervisor of the order pickers. He'd been picked because he had seniority, and because he was well liked by the drivers too. He was about fifty years old, tall, with a large belly, thinning brown hair that was sprinkled with lots of gray. I had spoken with him often, and he seemed very easy going and friendly.

I knew one of the guys on the list, Terry Klennert. He was always talking big about himself whenever I'd been around him. He seemed to think that he was destined to take over the whole loading operation imminently, and was always telling other people how they should be doing things. He was in his mid twenties, with dark hair, on the short side, although he made up for that by having a husky build. My father had written that Terry had been late or absent from work, seven times in the past three weeks.

I didn't recognize the other man's name, Steve Lusby, but I didn't know too many of the order pickers by their full names. My father had written that Steve was constantly making mistakes with the order filling. Mistakes like that always cost the company, both in sales, and in our customer goodwill. Additionally, these mistakes made our drivers look bad, and kept them from soliciting new business. When mistakes occurred, they had to spend their time trying to sooth the customers who were adversely affected by the screw ups in their orders.

It was my opinion that Roy should have been out on the loading docks, making certain that the orders pulled were being loaded on the correct trucks, and that what was pulled was what had been ordered. My father hadn't said anything about that part of it, but I made a mental note to ask him about that on the drive home.

"Hi, Roy. My Dad wanted me to come down to tell you about two guys we need to let go." Roy was sitting on his desk in the little open cubbyhole that looked out on the loading dock. He had some papers in his hand that he'd been shuffling through as I approached.

"You mean fired?" He asked me in a tone of voice that told me he wasn't happy. I assumed he just wasn't used to having to fire people. I'd never fired anyone either, but it was my father's decision. All Roy had to do was carry it out.

"Steve Lusby and Terry Klennert. Steve keeps screwing up the delivery orders, and Terry is a chronic absentee and is late all the time when he does manage to come to work."

"Steve has a wife and two kids, and his wife's pregnant again. I can't just go out there and tell him he doesn't have a job anymore. I don't want to get involved in any lay-offs or firings. I have to work with all these guys. If I turn into a hatchet man, they'll resent me." I listened to what he said, but I couldn't believe he'd said it. What did he think a supervisor was supposed to do?

"You can't be a supervisor and not fire people, Roy. That's just part of the job. If you don't tell them, I will, but you can't be a supervisor if I have to do it."

"You gonna fire me too, then?"

"No. You can take one of their jobs as an order puller if you want. It will mean less money for you, but I don't see any other way. If you don't want to do that, I guess you can quit." I liked Roy well enough as a person, and I kind of felt bad for him. Whoever had decided he should be made the supervisor had made a huge mistake. I hoped he would think about his options, and then decide to go back to pulling orders.

"I'm going to file a protest. I didn't do nothing to be fired for. I wasn't absent or late, and I didn't screw up any orders."

"Roy, you're the supervisor. Its your responsibility to see that your people come to work on time, and that they pull orders and load the trucks correctly. You weren't up to the task. You should go back to a job you can handle."

"We'll just see. You might be the boss's son, but that don't mean I have to take my marching orders from you. I'll check with personnel." He walked past me, jumping up off his desk and leaving before I found out which of the order people was Steve Lusby. I went out on the loading dock and asked one of the loaders to point Lusby out to me. He pointed to a guy I knew by sight, someone I had talked with before. He seemed like a nice guy too when we talked, and I started feeling bad about what I needed to do.

"Steve?" He looked at me, smiled and nodded, as he moved a cart from aisle to aisle, picking an order. "Can you stop for a minute, Steve? I need to speak with you." He stopped, a look of uncertainty on his face. He was a tall, good looking guy, one who looked strong and fit. Up close, he looked a little younger. I had originally placed him somewhere in his thirties. I revised his age downward to late twenties. "Steve, there have been too many problems with your orders getting screwed up, and with them being loaded on the wrong vehicles sometimes. The company is sorry, but we're going to have to let you go. If you go up to personnel after three, your final check will be ready. You need to punch out now, so that I can take your time card up to personnel."

"You're firing me? Roy never said nothing to me about any screwed up orders. Are you sure those were my mistakes?"

"Are you Steve Lusby?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean those were my mistakes." I looked at the order he had been pulling, holding out my hand for the order ticket he had pulled it from. We went over the order carefully together, and I found two mistakes. The first mistake, he told he'd been in a hurry when reading the numbers on the ticket, and he had misread the six for a five. The second mistake was larger, and it involved him giving away six dozen mini donut packs when only six packs had been ordered. The delivery driver would probably have caught both mistakes, but they represented an intolerable level of performance. I looked at Steve until he shrugged his shoulders in a show of resigned acceptance. I went with him as he punched out, handing me his time card.

It had been difficult telling him he was fired. I went over to one of the other order pullers and pointed out Steve's order cart and handed her the ticket, explaining the two mistakes. She said she would handle it as soon as she was finished with the order she was currently pulling. I turned away, after thanking her, and saw Terry Klennert standing, over by the break room, talking with two of our other order pullers.

I walked over until I was about ten feet away from them, waiting for Terry to wind up the story he was telling. He was telling the guys about how he fixed some rich guys outboard motor at the lake over the weekend, and how the man told him he could borrow his fancy boat whenever he wanted to. Terry had been home, supposedly ill, on Thursday and Friday the week before. He must have had one of those miraculous weekend recoveries. As soon as he paused, both guys in his audience looked over at me and left right away to get back to work.

"I was telling them about how I helped this guy out with a problem he was having with his boat. The guy told me he'd taken it in to be fixed at the place he'd bought it from, but none of their mechanics knew how to fix it. I figured out the problem in about ten minutes, and had that baby purring in just a few minutes more. He wanted me to take the hundred bucks he was offering, but I told him I was happy to do it as a favor."

"You should look into becoming a boat mechanic, Terry."

"Nope, I'm a loyal guy. I'm going to stay right here and rise to the top."

"Not going to happen I'm afraid. We require our people to be punctual and dependable, and you're neither."

"What's this, some kind of a joke? I'm probably the best worker you've got down here. If it wasn't for me, half the orders that go out would be screwed up, and you wouldn't be getting nearly as much work out of the rest of those pullers. They all look up to me for leadership. I can pull an order faster than any of the rest of them."

"The decision was made upstairs, Terry, and you're being let go. I need you to punch out now, and for you to give me your time card. Your final check will be ready in personnel at three this afternoon."

I was sick, thats why I missed those three days, and I've had trouble with my car too, which makes me late sometimes. You can't just fire me for having car trouble."

"Terry, if you have a complaint, file it with personnel, and my father will review it. I need your time card if you want to be paid today." I didn't feel bad at all about giving Terry the news. He went over and punched out and then came over to me and threw his time card down on the ground, in front of my feet when he came back.

"If you want to be paid, Terry, I need you to hand me your time card. I'm not going to play these games with you." He looked at me for a few seconds, but, finally, he bent down and retrieved the card and handed it to me.

"You're going to be calling me in a few days, begging me to come back to work, but I'll be working somewhere else and making a lot more money too." His words sounded hollow, the empty bragging that was his normal style. Even he didn't believe it when he said it.

"Your final check will be in personnel at three. Good luck." I turned away from him and left. When I got back upstairs to personnel, Steve Lusby was sitting in one of the chairs personnel has for people waiting to be interviewed. I went over to one of the vacant desks and had Edith put me through to maintenance.

"Maintenance, John speaking." It was my John, the one I did most of my dealing with.

"This is Kenny. Do you guys need another worker? There's a guy who worked in order pulling, but he made too many mistakes. I don't think he's the smartest guy in the world, but I bet he'd be good at moving things around, and working with you if he had some decent supervision."

"Who is it?"

"His name is Steve Lusby. I just let him go, but he seems like a nice guy, and he has a family."

"We know Steve. He's a pretty good Joe. Call me back in ten minutes. We have been putting in requests for some more help for a long time now, but we had somebody else in mind for that, if and when we got approval to hire someone. I need to check with the guys." I put the phone down and went back to speak to Steve.

"Don't leave yet or get your hopes too high, Steve, but there is a possible opening in maintenance that pays about the same as what you were making. If you get it, we would just transfer you over there, and you wouldn't lose any of your benefits or anything." I could see that just the small hope of a reprieve had really lifted his spirits. He'd looked pretty forlorn while I watched him sitting there earlier. I called down to maintenance when the ten minutes was over. My John answered the phone again.

"We'll take him. When can he start?"

"Thanks. I'll send him right down so you can clock him in. I'll take care of the paper work in personnel because it will just be a department transfer. Let me know how he's doing, okay?"

"Don't worry. We know Steve, and he's all right. What about the other help we need down here?"

"Do you have enough work to keep two guys busy?"

"We'd put them to work doing things we didn't get around to doing. We're supposed to take care of stuff that we never get the time to do. Important stuff that we're worried about. We've been meaning to ask you to go to bat for us on this, Kenny, since nobody in personnel seemed to think it was very important."

"Is it someone that works here already?"

"No, but she's a qualified electrician, and she's a damn good worker."

"Is this one of your girlfriends or something, John?"

"No. Kitty is Earl's kid sister. She's a good worker, Kenny. The three of us can take care of most of the things that come up, but some of the wiring around here is terrible, and she could get things back up to where they should be, for the fire codes and all. She'd be willing to work cheap in the beginning, the same as a new hire. She's a fully trained electrician, but, since she's a woman, it isn't easy working with a bunch of regular construction types. She's had to quit quite a few jobs where people were bothering her. I've known her for a long time, and so has Stewie. She wouldn't have any problems working with us."

"Send her in tomorrow, to personnel. How much do you make an hour, John?"

"Why do you care?" He sounded defensive and on his guard.

"I wanted to start Kitty off at a reasonable wage, and I know you're the least senior of the three of you." He gave me a figure, and it was higher than I would have thought. I talked to the head of personnel, and told him that my father had approved one new hire and one departmental transferee to maintenance. I brought Steve over and told him that he needed to go over to see John down in maintenance. He was so happy and grateful, I was sure I was doing the right thing. I told him I knew he'd do his best, and that I really hoped he liked his new work assignment. I told the personnel guy that Earl would be up the next morning with the new hire.

"Earl?"

"Yes, Earl. He's the head man in maintenance. A good man to get to know in case you need any repairs done. If Earl likes you, you'll get things done around here a lot sooner. My father is very fond of him. He lets Earl run his whole department, without any supervision, thats how much he thinks of him." I left him and went back to my new office. I had only been in the office for a few minutes before my Dad's secretary called to tell me that he wanted to see me in his office.

When I got there, Roy Falson was seated out by Myra, obviously waiting to go in for a meeting with my father. She stood up and ushered me into my Dad's office as soon as she saw me walk up.

"What's going on Kenny? Why is Roy camped outside my office, demanding to see me?" I told him all that had taken place downstairs when I went to see about getting those two men fired. When I got to the point about offering Roy a chance to go back to his old job, my father put up a hand to stop me from continuing. He leaned down and pressed an intercom button. "Send Roy in, Myra. Kenny take a seat over there and don't speak unless I ask you a direct question." I went over to the sofa my father had indicated and sat down. Roy came in and looked over at me. My father put his hand out to indicate where he wanted Roy to sit. "Hi, Roy. What can I do for you?"

"You can explain to me why I'm fired when I didn't do one thing wrong. I've worked for you for eleven years and I've had a good record the whole time."

"You accepted a job as a supervisor, Roy, and then you failed to supervise. I think that pretty much explains it. Kenny told you I wanted to fire those two men and you refused to do it. You should have taken him up on his offer to let you go back to being a picker. I'm not sure I would have made you the same offer, not with the situation I've been told about."

"I did my job as well as I knew how."

"That isn't enough, Roy. You needed to do it as well as it required being done, and you didn't. Kenny thinks the person who promoted you in the first place is the one to blame. I think he's right, and I'll accept the blame for it. Some men aren't comfortable with the need to hold other workers accountable for their failings. You were a good employee, Roy, and I'm real sorry to lose you. I won't interfere with Kenny's decision though. I'll keep an opening for an order puller for thirty days. If you decide you want to take the job, come back in and we'll treat the time off as a leave of absence. We'll keep up your benefits for the thirty days."

After Roy left, my father and I had another, longer talk, about me taking it upon myself to transfer Steve, and to hire Kitty without first checking with him. I told him about John telling me about all the wiring problems, and reminded him about how the expansion was placing a strain on every department. When I told him that Kitty was a fully qualified electrician and we were getting her for a maintenance man's wages, he seemed satisfied.

When I left his office, I realized he'd been testing me the whole time. As long as I gave him good reasons why I did things, he didn't get upset. I was beginning to understand the learning process he was putting me through. He really was grooming me to take over for him someday. That realization made me feel proud. For the first time, I was totally confident that he had truly accepted me as his son.

I got down to the order desk a little late, but Shirley and Ellen just got up and we all walked out to the employee parking lot and got into Ellen's car. Shirley and I argued about who was going to slide in next to Ellen. I told her she had to, but she said her legs were too long to sit comfortably in the middle. I offered to sit in the back, but then she gave in and slid in the middle. I hopped in on the end, and we drove off to the Kleinsmith's deli.

Mrs. Kleinsmith was happy to see me again, and she took our orders and told me how sorry she'd been to learn about Bunny's passing. We all ordered different sandwiches, and when they came, there were pickles, potato salad, and cole slaw on the plates. There was so much meat in every sandwich that all of us had to nibble along the edges, rather than take normal bites.

We got back to the plant a little late too, but that was because of how long it took us to finish lunch. Shirley was usually fairly quiet, but around Ellen, she turned into a real extrovert. It didn't take a genius to see that they were really getting along well. It surprised me, because they were each so different from the other. It was a happy surprise though. Shirley needed to have more friends than she had.

After we got back from lunch, I was able to finally pry the two girls apart by telling Shirley that she needed to come with me to see her new office, and to at least make some effort in the afternoon to earn her salary. My Dad had only put five things on his list, and I'd already done the hardest one. There was one other thing for me to do, and I was going to delegate the other three to Shirley. She really liked having her own office, and when I showed her my office, I didn't open the door to the bedroom. When she asked, I told her I thought it might be a closet, but the door was locked, and I didn't have a key to find out for sure. We both finished up before it was time to leave. When I came in to tell Shirley it was time to leave, she was on the phone, talking to Ellen.

After work, when the two of us were sitting in my Dad's back seat, Shirley told me how much she had enjoyed her first day of work. That was when she lowered the boom on me.

"Ellen really likes you, a lot."

"She's happy that I got her on the payroll."

"No, she really likes you. She thinks about you all the time."

"I never gave her any reason to do that."

"She doesn't need a reason, Kenny. You should have heard some of the questions she asked me today. That girl is definitely carrying a big torch for you. You better be careful around her. Don't break her heart, because she's my best friend."

"You only met her for the first time today, Shirley. I thought I was your best friend?"

She's my best girl friend. My only girl friend. I really like her. You don't have to hurt her."

"I don't plan on hurting her. I don't plan on having much to do with her. It could get awkward though, if what you said is true. Maybe I'll just stay completely away from her."

"You can't do that. She'd blame me if you did that. Be like you always are, but just be careful that she doesn't think she has any chance to be with you. Don't lead her on."

I really thought that Shirley was being overly dramatic, exaggerating the level of Ellen's feelings for me. I also thought she was making too much of a one day friendship. I should have given more thought to what Shirley had been going through at the school for the past year, and how desperate she was for the friendship of another girl. Had I thought about things carefully, a lot of what took place could have been averted. I blame myself for most of what happened.



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Chapter 4

Shirley had been my assistant intern at the company for a week, and I had yet to show her the bedroom that was connected to my office. Part of my reason for not showing her had been the relationship that she and Ellen were forging. It wasn't that I was jealous, well, that wasn't the only reason. I was concerned at how much time they were spending with each other. They went to lunch together every day. They invited me to go with them on Wednesday and Thursday, but not on Tuesday or Friday. Tuesday, they said they needed to go shopping, and on Friday, they didn't even bother telling me what they were doing.

Between those two visiting with each other, and talking together on the telephone, I didn't really see that much of Shirley that first week. She completed all the work I assigned to her though, and she did a good job of it. I couldn't fault her for not getting her work done, or the quality of it. Still, by the end of her first week as my assistant, I would have to admit I was disappointed with our working relationship. When we did manage to talk, it was usually about something that she and Ellen had seen or done.

We were supposed to play golf together on Saturday morning, but she canceled out on Thursday, telling me she wanted to help Ellen and Edith move to their new apartment in Bolling that weekend. With Ellen making good money at the company, she and her mom had decided they could afford to move into the city, closer to their work. Edith would also be closer to Earl, and Ellen was anxious to help their relationship along. Since she had been dating Earl, Edith had cut back on her drinking quite a bit, and had also started giving Ellen more space to live her own life.

I was feeling petty for resenting Shirley's wanting to help her friend, but, petty or not, I still resented it.

Sunday evening, Shirley called me to let me know she was back home, and that Ellen and Edith were all moved into their new apartment. We were talking for a few minutes, and I asked her if she felt like going out for a drive with me.

"Ellen is spending the night here with us. Edith said she was feeling strong enough to want to see if she could survive a night without Ellen being there with her. Isn't that great? Ellen says its probably because Earl will be spending the night. She doesn't care though, not as long as she's willing to let Ellen stay away. That is an improvement though, don't you think?"

"You can't go out for a drive with me because Ellen is a guest and you don't want to leave her?"

"Yes, and plus I'm really tired. Besides, I'll see you at work tomorrow. Ellen and I will drive in together, so you don't need to come pick me up. This is a big deal for Ellen, and I don't want to just leave her here alone to go off with you."

I didn't make that much of a protest, but I felt bad about the way the whole week had gone with Shirley and me. This last rebuff was just another small addition to a long list of minor disappointments. I said goodnight, telling her that I loved her, and tried to figure out what I could do to entertain myself until it was time to go to sleep. In the end, I stayed up in my room and felt sorry for myself. I didn't wallow in self pity, but I did dab a little of it behind each ear.

Monday morning, I drove myself into work, telling Dad that I wanted to have my own car there, in case I needed to go out for lunch or something. I was really hoping that Shirley and I could go out to lunch together, just the two of us. I was in my office, trying to figure out what to do with the first item on my Dad's list of things he wanted me to do. He wanted me to select a supervisor to replace Roy Falson. Since we made the changes that resulted in letting Roy go, no one had been in charge down at the loading dock. The orders were getting picked though, and none of the route drivers were complaining too much. Dad had placed a note with his list, saying that he didn't know who should be promoted, telling me that I should go down to the loading and picking area and make a decision.

I went down there at nine o'clock, noting before I left that Shirley still hadn't made an appearance yet. I spent the entire morning down in the order picking area, watching as the people worked. I was looking to see if any of the pickers or loaders stood out to me as having leadership qualities. I did notice that several of the pickers sought out the woman I had given Steve Lusby's order ticket to when I had taken his time card. Watching, it was obvious that the people were asking her for help or advice. I saw her looking at their tickets and pointing them to an area, or explaining something to them. It was almost twelve o'clock before I approached her and introduced myself to her.

"I already know who you are. Are you going to fire me too?" She was older than most of the other order pickers, with short black hair, a heavy build and a look of obvious fear and distrust in her eyes. I'd have guessed her age at near fifty. From her accent, I'd have guessed she was from the deep South. She was a Negro lady.

"No, actually, I was wanting to talk to you about a promotion. You'll have to excuse me, but I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"I'm Cee Cee Waters. What kind of a promotion?"

"I was hoping you could take Roy Falson's job, supervisor of the order pickers and the loaders."

"Why me?"

"Why not you? I've been watching people coming up and asking you how to do things all morning. It looks to me like most people think of you as the boss already. If you're doing the work, you should be paid for it."

"A lot of them won't like you picking me to be Roy's replacement. There might be trouble about it."

"Miss Waters, you have my word that my father would deal harshly with anyone who makes trouble because of our promoting you. We decide who we want to promote, and, this time, that's you. The only problem you might have is putting in the changes that need to be made. Roy wasn't much of a supervisor, and people in this department just aren't used to having reasonable demands placed on them. We need to have a lot better performance down here."

"Getting better results won't be hard, not if you let me make some changes in how we do things down here on the floor. First thing is, there's some people here that needs their butts fired, and there are some others that need to learn that they better shape up, or they'll soon be out on their asses too."

"How many do you think actually need to be fired?"

"Least five that I'm sure of. Maybe another three, if they don't change their ways pretty damn quick."

That's a lot. I'll need to get an ad in the paper to say that we're hiring before you go ahead and let that many go."

"There isn't no need for that. We still got about twenty people from the last time that we tried to hire. I can get all the new people we need, easy as breathing. Could have them here and working by Monday if it comes to that."

"Bring in the new people and get their paperwork processed. Let the people go only when you have someone to step in for them. We need to keep filling all the delivery orders. Can't let anything prevent that. One other thing, my father told Roy he was holding open a picker job for him for thirty days if he changes his mind and decides he wants to come back to work here."

"Be a mistake if you let him come back. He was most of the reason why things weren't going better here. Those people I'm gonna fire was all good friends of his. He hired them to work here over a lot of better applicants. He comes back, I'm liable to fire his fat ass the first day he shows up on the floor."

"My Dad said he'd keep a job open for him. He didn't promise Roy that he would be able to keep it if he came back. It would be your call, but I hope you wouldn't just fire him without giving him a chance to see if he could do the work."

"Some of the people I'd be hiring are colored, is that gonna be a problem with you?"

"Only if they're green. I don't mind any of the other colors, but I don't care much for green."

"How much this new supervisor job going to pay me?"

"Roy made fourteen hundred a month, but he wasn't really that much of a supervisor. I'm expecting real good things from you, so lets say fifteen hundred to start. If it doesn't work out though, I'm going to look bad with my father. I'll be coming down in the beginning to see how things are going. Are you okay with that?"

"Money's good enough, but I don't know if I want you here second guessing everything I do. I'd rather you just let me do what I need to do, and then wait to see if things get better or they don't. This place is going to get some kind of tense before things get better. Maybe you too young to hear what needs to be said to get things like they ought to be."

"Cee Cee, I promise you I won't interfere, but I think my father would feel better about all these changes if he was getting reports on what was happening, from me. It might help too, if I was right here if someone were to try to give you some trouble."

"Boy, Cee Cee ain't worried about trouble. Don't you get it in your head that I'm scared of none of these people. I've got some good ideas for doing things different, but I don't want a bunch of you people, dressed up in your suits, looking over my shoulder every time I try to do something." I was wearing trousers and a shirt, so I wasn't sure what she meant.

"I'm talking about me, Cee Cee. Somebody has to keep my father informed about the changes you're making. You want to write him memos every time you do something different? I'll watch and learn. I'm not going to interfere."

"Suppose I say no?"

"That would be a shame. I really think you'd be the best one for the job."

"You'd pick someone else? Who?"

"I was thinking of calling Terry Klennert back. He told me he practically ran this whole department anyway." Cee Cee barked out a laugh. I waited a few seconds, my face serious, but then, I had to laugh too.

"I guess I can make do with having you down here spying for awhile, but if you're going to be here, I'm going to put you to work just like everyone else. When do I start?"

"Right now. You can have Roy's office. Call in some new people for Monday morning. Do you have their applications on file somewhere?" She looked at me and gave me a slow nod. "If you need me, ask Edith the receptionist, she usually knows how to get me." Instead of heading off to her new office, I was glad to see her go back to finishing up pulling the order for the ticket she had been pulling before I started talking to her.

I got back to my office after talking to her. The paper I'd made up for Shirley, telling her what I needed her to do, was laying on her desk, right where I'd left it that morning. I didn't want to make a big deal about her not telling me she was going to be late, but it was almost one o'clock. More than half the day was gone, and she hadn't even bothered to show up at her office, or call and leave me a message. I left my office and walked down to the phone rooms. Edith was busy on the phones, and so were the other two girls there. Ellen and Shirley weren't there though. I waited for Edith to get off the phone.

"Edith, have you seen Shirley or Ellen today?

"They took off today, Kenny. Ellen called me last night and said they were going to drive over to Holton today. Said she wanted to show Shirley my brother's pig farm. Those pigs stink so bad, I've no idea why she'd think a body would want to go there." I tried to cover up my surprise that Shirley would just take off like that and not even ask me if it was okay. I was going to really have to sit her down, and explain the difference between working and playing.

I went back up to my office and grabbed the paper I'd left on Shirley's desk. I only managed to get through half of it before I had to head down and turn the results over to my father. He looked at what was done without asking me why more hadn't been done. I told him about promoting Cee Cee Waters, and we discussed the fact that she was going to make quite a few personnel changes.

"You put someone in charge, Kenny, then you give them the room they need to set things up the way they think they need them. What made you decide on Cee Cee?"

I told him about how everybody seemed to go to her for advice or help, and that I'd observed her doing her job and still taking the time to help answer questions for the other workers. I told him that I had spoken to her long enough to form a positive opinion about how she'd handle being in charge. His next question surprised me.

"What happened to Shirley today? Did you give her the day off?" He was sitting behind his desk when he asked me the question. As soon as he asked it, he leaned way back in his chair and waited for me to answer him.

"I heard she went to Holton with Ellen. She didn't mention anything to me when she called me last night. I was expecting her to be at work this morning."

"What do you plan to do about it? She's your assistant, Kenny. Your responsibility. I can see by the list you handed me that her being gone meant you didn't get all your work done today. You need to take some action to make sure she knows coming to work or staying at home isn't just something she gets to decide all by herself. You need to be able to depend on employees, and she let you down."

"What do you think I should tell her? We never actually talked about her needing to come to work everyday. Should I tell her what I expect, and then just give her a warning? Should I tell her I'll fire her if she does something like this again? She told me she'd see me at work today when I talked to her last night. This other thing with Ellen must have come up after we talked." I was rambling as I spoke to him, but I couldn't seem to stop talking.

"What would you do if Shirley wasn't your girlfriend? Suppose it was just a regular employee that we'd assigned to you. What would you do then?"

"I'd talk to her and find out what happened, and why, and then I'd decide what to do."

"There you go. Talk to Shirley and find out what happened. The fact that she's your girlfriend shouldn't enter into your decision about what to do. Talk to her, then let me know what you decided to do."

I got up from where I'd been sitting and went out to my car. Instead of driving straight home, I drove over to the country club. I stayed out there for two hours, hitting balls on the practice range and trying to think about how I wanted to bring this up with Shirley. I would decide to call her at home later that night, then I'd change my mind and decide to confront her in the office. I knew that this was going to spill over into our personal relationship as well as our business one. I didn't do well practicing, and I'm sure more than a few practice balls wound up with cuts on them. I worked off some of my pent up anger though. By the time I went through one and a half jumbo buckets of balls, I was ready to go home for dinner.

I phoned over to Shirley's house right after we got through eating dinner, but Mrs. Jones told me that Shirley wasn't at home. She asked me if I needed to talk to Shirley when she got in, and I told her to have Shirley call me if she got in before nine o'clock. Shirley didn't call before nine, it was seven thirty, the next morning, and she called to let me know that she needed to miss another day of work to be with Ellen.

"Why do you need to do that? You and Ellen are both supposed to be working. You can't just take off whenever you feel like it."

"Kenny, I'd tell you if I could, but I really need to stay with Ellen today."

"Shirley, I'm sorry. I need to treat you like I would any other employee. I can't play favorites. If you need time to take care of personal business, maybe you should just quit."

"Fine. I do quit. You could have waited until I could explain things to you. It isn't like you really needed me there to do the things you assign to me anyway." She waited for me to say something, but I didn't know what else I could say. I'd given her a choice and she had chosen. She was right though, I didn't really need her to work on my father's lists with me.

I went to work right after I got off the phone with Shirley. I drove in by myself again because Dad had to go in really early to work on some banking figures he was trying to put together. I got in a little after eight fifteen, and went to my father's office to get my copy of his list for the day.

"Did you get things worked out with Shirley, Kenny?" My father looked at me as he handed me the list.

"Yes. She quit."

"I see. Did something happen between the two of you? Personally, I mean."

"I don't think so. We were doing fine, but then she started spending a lot of time with Ellen. She got too busy with that to do much of anything else."

"Are you okay with her quitting?"

"Sure. I mean it was her choice. I just wish now that I'd never asked her to be my assistant. I won't make that mistake again."

"If that's true, then you've learned a valuable lesson very cheaply. Was Shirley angry with you when you spoke on the phone?"

"She sounded more disappointed than angry. She thought I could have waited for her to do what she needs to do with Ellen. She didn't seem to think her job was very important. I don't feel that way about my job. I'm a little upset that she didn't care about working with me that much."

After we talked about one or two things on his list, I went up to my office. Instead of getting my work done, I spent all morning thinking about Shirley and about how things had turned bad so quickly. By the time I got hungry, I'd decided to call her when I got home from work, and try to see if we could separate this failed business relationship from our personal relationship. I wasn't that optimistic, but I figured it was certainly worth trying.

When I drove up my driveway at about five thirty, Tuesday afternoon, Shirley was sitting on the side of the fountain, waiting for me. I parked and got out of my car, sitting down beside her. I could see that she'd been crying.

"Are you okay, Shirley?" Instead of speaking to me, she shook her head that she wasn't okay. "Are you going to tell me about it?" Again she shook her head no. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Its Ellen, Kenny. She took some pills from our medicine cabinet Sunday night. She tried to kill herself."

"Edith told me she talked to her Sunday night, after you guys got to your house okay. She said Ellen was taking you to Holton to visit her uncle's pig farm yesterday."

"I know she called her mom earlier Sunday night, before I spoke to you, but she never told me about visiting some pig farm. She's over at my house now. Mom is watching her. Luckily, the pills she took were mostly harmless ones. We took all the empty bottles to the hospital with us, but they said she wasn't in any danger. They didn't even keep her there, because she told the doctor that she was trying to get high, not commit suicide. She's been crying since we brought her back to our house. She is afraid I'll tell Edith what happened."

"Did she tell you why she tried to do it?"

"She said a lot of things, but it mostly comes down to the fact that she hates her life. Late Sunday afternoon, after we had already gone to my house, Earl showed up at the new apartment, and he told Edith he was going to be seeing someone else now. Ellen had been counting on Earl and her mom staying together. She thinks that her mom will go back to drinking heavy again, and that she won't ever get to go anywhere or do anything that she wants to do. She told me she can't stand going back to living like they did before Earl started going out with Edith. She doesn't know what to do, and so she tried something stupid."

"I spoke with Edith, and she seemed fine. She didn't look hungover or anything. I saw her just this afternoon. She was on the phone, laughing. This must have been hard on you. If I'd known, I'd have been more understanding about you not coming to work."

"I came over here to ask you for a big favor."

"You want your job back? No problem."

"No, I want you to go out with Ellen a few times. She really likes you a lot, and it would cheer her up if you took her places, and let her see what normal life is like."

I couldn't believe she was seriously asking me to do that. In the first place, I didn't want to go out with Ellen. In the second place, having Shirley ask me to date someone else absolutely ended any belief I might have entertained that I was as important to her as she was to me. I tried to imagine any possible circumstance where I might ask Shirley to date one of my friends from school. I knew there wasn't any way something like that would happen.

"No."

"You don't have to do anything with her. A few kisses maybe, and put your arm around her if you're at the movies. I'm not asking you to take her to bed, just to date her three or four times, until she's feeling better about her life."

"No."

"For me?"

"No."

"This is important to me, Kenny. She's my friend, and she needs our help."

"Fine. I have no problem with you helping her. I just don't want to date her, and I hate it that you're even suggesting it to me."

"Why won't you do it? I'm the one that should be against it, if one of us is going to be."

"You're right. You should be against it. The fact that you're here asking me says a lot about how you think about us. I know you like having a girl friend, Shirley, but you've gone overboard with this. You're putting your friendship with Ellen ahead of what we have, and I really hate seeing you do that. I've already told you, several times now, that I won't have any part of this. I want you to just forget about it, and think up something different, something we can do to help her. Something that doesn't involve me going out with her. Why not have Ronnie take her out? I'm sure he'd be willing to do it."

"She likes you, Kenny. You're the one she thinks about and talks about."

I was angry, and that's the only reason I can think of why I said what I did then.

"If I was going to go out with another girl, it certainly wouldn't be Ellen. I'd sooner go out with Emily, or even Brenda. Ellen wouldn't even make my top five."

Shirley looked at me, and then she stood up and walked away. I knew I'd said something stupid. Being angry though, and hurt by her request, I couldn't see where what I'd said was any worse than what Shirley was asking from me. I should have chased after her and apologized. I probably would have done it too, if it hadn't been for all the events of the past week. It was the accumulation of all those little slights and disappointments I'd suffered at her hands since the week before. I let her walk away, and I walked into my own house.

I felt this time like I was strictly a victim. I was sure that Shirley would look at things differently after she had a chance to reflect on what she'd been asking. As soon as she called to tell me she was sorry, I'd tell her that I hadn't meant what I'd said about Emily and Brenda. Truthfully, neither of them were girls I'd ever consider dating again. I only used them as examples so that Shirley could see how much I didn't want to go out with Ellen. How much I didn't want to go out with anyone but her. Shirley was very smart. She'd realize what I had meant.



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Chapter 5


I went in to work with my Dad on Wednesday. I sat up front, and talked to him about this latest development with Shirley. I didn't say anything about Ellen's suicide attempt, just that she was upset about some personal things, and that Shirley wanted me to take her out on a few dates to try and cheer her up. I tried explaining how it really bothered me about Shirley being willing to lend me to Ellen like that.

"Kenny, women think differently than men do. You shouldn't make assumptions that you know what they mean when they say or do things. To Shirley, this might seem perfectly reasonable. All she is thinking about is helping her friend."

"I'm her friend too, and it wouldn't help me. I would never loan her to a friend of mine." My father was trying his best, but I really wished that Uncle Bunny was still around to listen to my side of things, and then tell me what some of my options were. I had relied on him for things like this. I finally stopped talking about my problem and sat quietly, reading over the list that Dad had handed me earlier. Item number one surprised me.

It was all printed in capital letters: FIND A REPLACEMENT FOR SHIRLEY, SOMEONE TO BE YOUR NEW ASSISTANT. I looked over at my father. "You want me to hire someone else to work with me?"

"Kenny, if you learning to delegate was the real primary reason for hiring Shirley, then, yes, it makes sense to replace her with another assistant. If you simply wanted to have your girlfriend close to you for the summer, then, no, you don't really need a new assistant."

"I'll find someone today. There's this girl over in accounting that just started there. Maybe I'll ask her if she'd like to transfer over to be my assistant. It will only be for a couple of months, then she can go back to accounting."

"Don't step on anyone's toes. Go to her supervisor first, and ask her if it would be okay. Tell her it would only be for the summer. I don't want anything disrupted for this. We can go outside and hire someone temporarily, if necessary.

I was up in my office by eight o'clock. I called down to Edith to let her know that I was heading down to the loading docks for awhile, just in case anyone needed to get in touch with me.

Cee Cee was already making changes in how order tickets were being pulled. Instead of having each ticket pulled by a single picker, she had broken the ticket down into three or four smaller parts. Once the order was pulled and assembled, two of the pickers went over it to make sure everything was correct. Cee Cee was making her own specialists for the bulk of the order pulling.

My first thought was it would be slower and less efficient this way, but then I saw how quickly the different parts of the ticket were being picked and brought over to be assembled as an order. There was less wasted motion, and I could see that having two people checking that the order was correct would help to cut down on mistakes. Cee Cee took me over to where she had started assembling finished orders for later loading. Someone had painted numbers in ten foot by ten foot squares. The numbers corresponded to the delivery truck numbers, and all the loaders had to do was find out which truck was in the loading bay and then go over and take the pulled orders from the assembly point. The loaders then handled the loading, while each order being loaded was being rechecked by one of the two people who had worked on the order ticket at the original picker assembly point. I asked Cee Cee why she had made some people only loaders, and others only pickers. Before, everyone had been a picker/loader.

"Some people are good workers, like that Steve boy you fired, but they can't be good pickers, 'cause they aren't careful. Some of the pickers are good at picking, but they aren't very good at loading. The ones I use for checking and loading, they are good at both. It didn't make sense to me to not put people to work doing what they do best. In a couple weeks, after we weed out the ones that can't do nothing good, this department will be running a lot better. Right now, I'm seeing more ways to cut down on mistakes. I have my people signing off on the picking ticket and the loading ticket now. We'll be able to tell pretty quick if mistakes are being made."

"What about that trouble you said might happen?"

"I haven't let anybody go yet, but I'm fixing to fire two people right now. I was waiting for you to get here before I did it. See those two sitting in the break room there? They been in there for half an hour already. I can't get any work out of them anyway, so I don't see where firing them is going to slow my line down at all. I want to let them go, and call in two people I know I can use right away."

"Its your call Cee Cee. You didn't need to wait for me to be here to do what you think is best."

"One of the people I'm replacing these two with is my son. I know he can do the job, and he sure needs to get some work too. I promise you that he'll be one of the best workers we have down here."

"How about the other one?"

"Don't know him that good, but he has a lot of good experience operating a forklift. We got two forklifts that nobody's using now, and about five hundred pallets sitting out in the back, going to waste. I want to start moving orders from the staging area over there, to the trucks by using forklifts and pallets. Now, we keep everything on the picking carts. When the loading starts, we always run out of picking carts, and have people standing around waiting for carts to get free so they can get back to pulling new order tickets. It really slows up the picking when we had to do it like that. I'm going to have pickers take the carts to the staging area, then use the loaders pull the orders off the carts and onto the pallets. Loaders don't have much to do early now, not until the delivery vans get back and need to be loaded. This would keep them busy, and make sure we don't run out of picking carts."

"I don't see how that speeds things up, but you know more about it than I ever will. You want to fire them right now?"

"I wanted to fire them the minute you told me I was the new supervisor. You want to watch me do it?"

"Have you ever fired someone before?"

"My two husbands. Fired both of them." Cee Cee laughed. Her laugh was a deep rumble inside her throat. I could see that she was looking forward to firing those two men. I smiled at her and watched as she made her way over to the break room. She didn't pause or hesitate in any way. I stayed about three strides behind her. She went right in and stood by the table the two men were sitting at. Both were drinking Cokes and smoking cigarettes. The looked at her when she stood by them, but then they went right back to their conversation, ignoring her.

"Did either of you plan on doing any work today, or are you going to stay on break until you clock out for the day?" One of the men looked up at her and spoke.

"We just now sat down here. We'll get back to work when our break is over."

"Thats a lie. You two been in here for more than forty minutes. I've been watching you the whole time."

"Prove it!" This was from the other man. He was a sandy haired picker that I had spoken with several times, usually when he was in talking to Roy in the supervisor's office. His name was Danny.

"Don't have to prove nothing. Both of you are fired. You need to clock out and bring me your time cards." Cee Cee still didn't appear like any of this was fazing her in the slightest.

"Who says we're fired? I don't see no supervisor here. I told you we just got started on our break. Leave us alone until we're back on the clock again." This was from the first man who'd spoken. He was younger than Danny was, perhaps twenty one or two years old. From the tone of his voice, he didn't respect Cee Cee at all, or recognize her authority over him. Cee Cee smiled then and walked back out of the break room and went over to the time clock. I saw her searching through the time cards, finally reaching in to remove their two cards from their filing area. I watched her as she carefully placed them in the clock, stamping the time of check out on them. She came over and handed both cards to me.

"I'm going to go over and call my son and that other man. You can run these up to wherever they need to go so that they close the books on those two. I'll have both their asses out of here by the time you get back."

"Cee Cee, get a couple of the loaders to stand by just in case those two give you some trouble."

"Shit! Those boys in there aren't going to give Cee Cee no trouble. When I fired my husbands, I dragged their asses out of my house and told them they better not come back. They didn't neither. Those boys start something with me, they'll wish they never was born. You go do what I told you, boy. You let Cee Cee worry about getting those two out of here. I'm looking forward to it."

I did what she told me, not without a lot of doubts and worry, but when I got back from personnel, the two men were nowhere to be seen, and Cee Cee was over talking to a group of about five order pickers. She didn't look concerned or upset, and she didn't look like she'd been having any trouble at all. I left the loading area, going back up to my office.

When I got there, I looked through the connecting door, which was open, and saw that Ellen was sitting at Shirley's desk. She looked very nervous when I first saw her. I went over to the open doorway.

"Hello, Ellen. How are you feeling?"

"Are you going to say anything about what Shirley told you happened over at her house? To my mom I mean."

"No. It isn't something that I need to get involved in. It didn't happen here at work. I hope you're feeling better. That was not the smartest thing you ever did. I hate to think of how your mom would have taken it if you had succeeded."

"I know. I've thought of that too. I don't think she could take it if I did it, not after Bernice and all. I did it mostly on impulse, because of what that damn Earl pulled. You know the funny part? She didn't get that upset when he dumped her. She told me she liked the attention he was paying her, but that she already knew that Earl wasn't someone that would end up being special to her. I didn't come here to talk about me or my mom though. Why are you being so mean to Shirley? Just because she missed a couple days of work? Now she's all upset and crying worse than I was. She really loves you, Kenny, and you haven't treated her very nice."

I didn't know what Shirley had told Ellen, so I wasn't really sure how to respond.

"What did your mom say about you missing two days of work?"

"Just that I won't get paid, and that she was disappointed in me. What else could she say? She's not really my boss, you are."

"She better be your boss, Ellen. If I was your direct supervisor, I might have been a lot stronger in what I told you than she apparently was. You have a big future with this company, but not if you continue doing stupid things, or if you can't be relied on. You need to come to work when you're supposed to. I think this time we can say these were two sick days though. Is there anything else?"

"Who are you going to get to replace Shirley, as your assistant?"

"I think I'll use this new girl in accounting, why?"

"I wanted you to give Shirley's job to me. She said I should ask you. I could go back to the order desk when you go back to school, and mom says she doesn't really need me right now, if you want me to work with you."

I don't think that would be a good idea. I don't want to leave the order desk short handed. In spite of what your mom told you, she really does need you down there. I wonder why Shirley seems so determined to throw the two of us together, Ellen. Have you two talked about that?" I saw Ellen blushing. I had been pretty sure that Shirley had to have discussed her idea with Ellen before she proposed it to me. "I didn't like some of the things that Shirley wanted me to do. That's why we're fighting. I love her, Ellen, and I don't have any desire to risk what we have by dating someone else."

"She told me what you said. She told me that if we worked together, it was almost like what she had asked you to do, but without the kissing, or any of the other stuff."

"You're asking me to go against my own beliefs, to do something I'm not comfortable doing. I want you to be happy, and to feel better about your life, Ellen, but not by having me be your pretend boyfriend. Shirley was only thinking about you, and what might make you feel better. She never thought about how this might change what she and I had together. Just telling me what she wanted ended up hurting our relationship. She put your friendship ahead of what I thought we had together. That hurt me."

"I told her you wouldn't go for it, but I don't see why I can't take over Shirley's job. She told me to tell you that she wanted you to hire me for it, and to tell you that she thought I'd do a better job than she could. I would do a good job too. You know how good I am on the phones, Kenny. Let me try her job for a week, and you can send me back to the order desk if I don't do a really good job here."

"What about all that other stuff? I don't want you sitting in here thinking that you're going to take over any other things that Shirley did with me."

"I promise not to make any moves on you, but, if you start it, I'm not going to be doing anything to discourage you. I already told Shirley how I feel, and what I'd let you do if you wanted to. If you think about it, hiring me makes the most sense for you. You get to tell Shirley you did what she asked, just by hiring me, and you already have my word that I'm not going to try to attack you. You don't want to stay mad at Shirley anyway. If you were to give me her job, I bet the two of you would be back together by tonight. She also told me to tell you that today would be a very good day. What did she mean? I asked her what she meant, but she said you'd understand."

"Go back down to the order desk and let me think about it. I'll let you know what I've decided before I go home for the day. If I do decide to let you have Shirley's job, you'll have to take a pay cut. This job only pays two hundred dollars a week."

"That's okay." I knew that she was saying okay to about a hundred dollars per week pay cut. Of course, working with me, there would be a lot less for her to do. When she left, I called Shirley on her private line at her house. She answered me on the very first ring.

"Kenny?"

"Hi. How did you know it was going to be me?"

"Only you and Ellen have my number, and I told her not to call me until after I spoke with you. I'm so sorry about yesterday. I didn't put it the way I meant to. I listened to what I said to you in my head after, and it didn't come out the way I meant to say it."

"I feel the same way about what I said about dating Emily or Brenda. What I meant was they were the last and the almost last people I'd ever want to date again, but that I felt so bad about you wanting me to date Ellen, that I'd almost rather date them than her. Because of me loving you, not because of anything being wrong with Ellen."

"I guess I figured that out when I walked home after I left. When you said it though, it made me so jealous. When I got home. I told Ellen that I'd be too jealous to let you really date her. I came up with you having her take my place at work instead. Did you hire her?"

"No, not yet. I'm thinking about it. Well, I'm going to get around to thinking about it, but, before she left, Ellen said something that got me thinking about something else." Shirley started giggling. "You know what it was?"

"Was it about today being a really good day? Guess what I was doing when you called?"

"Washing the dishes?"

"No, I'm in my bedroom, how could I be out washing the dishes?"

"Is it something that needs tools?"

"Yes. All I have here are the little ones though. I was thinking about that bigger tool that you have."

I had a hard on already just from the way we were talking. I reached down and touched myself through my slacks.

"I'm touching it now." Again Shirley giggled.

"You brought it with you to work? I thought you kept it in the closet for when I visit you?"

"Oh. I thought you meant something else. That tool I left at home. When Ellen told me you said today would be a very good day, was that going to be true only if I decide to hire her?"

"No. If you were here right now, it would be true. I can go over to your house before you get home from work, if you want me to?"

"We could pick you up on our way home."

"No. I'll wait for you at the fountain. Don't tell me if you hired her or you didn't, okay? Now I have a question for you. Ellen told me something that Earl told Edith. He said that the door you have in your office opens up into another room, a bedroom with a king size bed in it. Is that true?"

"Yes. I was hoping to get a chance to surprise you with it, but it never seemed like the right time."

"If you told me about it, things might have been different. Now, it's too late. You aren't planning on showing that to your new assistant, are you?"

"I don't think so. Its hard enough getting assistants to get any work done already. If they knew there was a bedroom so close by, how could I expect them to be able to think about work?"

"What time will you be home?"

"Probably not before five thirty or a quarter til six. I came in with my father today. I better go, my Dad gave me a lot of stuff to do today, and I don't have an assistant to help me with it."

"I love you, Kenny. I'm going to call Ellen after you hang up. Is there any message you want me to give her?"

"No. I really haven't decided yet. I might decide to go with my original choice. Ellen's too valuable to us at the phone order desk. It doesn't make sense to bring her up here for a month and a half, and make her take a big cut in pay. Maybe I'll hire that other girl and then take Ellen out to lunch once or twice a week."

"What does this other girl look like? Is she pretty? How old is she?"

"I only saw her one time, for less than a minute, over in accounting. She's a brand new employee."

"Is she pretty?"

"Very, especially if you like girls with thick glasses, and who have teeth that stick almost straight out in front, which I do happen to like. I think she's around eighteen or nineteen. She doesn't have as much on top as you do though, and she's pretty short besides. I think my virtue would be safe while we worked together. Besides, there's only room for one woman in my life."

"That last part was sweet for you to say."

"Which reminds me, I better call her and see how she's doing. Gerta worries if I don't check in with her regularly."

"Kenny, you are sooo very lucky that I'm already in a very receptive mood today. There will be other days though, when I'm not so much in need of you, and I have a very good memory. You might live to regret what you just said."

"Shirley, did I ever mention to you that my friend, John, down in maintenance, has this really huge tool chest that has its own set of rollers? He has two large drawers, just filled up to the top with different screwdrivers. One of them has a handle, and its even bigger than the one I got from Hans that time, the one you like? I asked him about it, and he said he had no idea what it was used for. It was with the tools in maintenance when he went to work there. He gave it to me when I told him I collected unusual tools. I'm not sure this one would even fit."

"Are you making this up?"

"No, I swear. I've got it sitting on top of my desk right now. I was going to put it in my bedroom here, just in case you ever came in for a visit."

"Bring it home with you tonight then. I think you're just making it up."

"No. I might bring it home some night when I'm driving my own car to work. I don't think I'd want to explain to my father what I needed such a big screwdriver for."

"You're a big tool tease."

"Aren't you sorry that you quit now?" I heard her breathing into the receiver of the phone, and I knew she was almost ready to cum, just from hearing the way she was breathing. She must have set the phone down, because I could hear the unmistakable sounds of her having a strong orgasm. I waited for another minute before she picked up the telephone again.

"Kenny, that one was your fault. I was just teasing myself, until you started kidding me about the you know."

"You mean my fat handled screwdriver?"

"I know you're just teasing me. The one in your closet is a perfect size for me anyway."

"Really? So, I should take this one back down and put it back in John's tool chest?"

"How much bigger did you say it was?"

"It isn't longer, it's shorter, but it's very fat. Maybe half again as fat as the big one. I don't think it would fit."

"You said that about the other one too, and it fit fine. You should bring it home tonight. Wrap it in something so that your father can't tell what it is."

"You sound like it excites you to think about it being so big." She didn't say anything, but I heard her breathing starting to quicken again. "Shirley, don't wear it out, not before I even get home."

"I'm not. Don't worry, when you get home, I'll have plenty left for you. You won't have to worry about making me cum either. As soon as you touch me, I'll go off."

I hung up the phone, wondering how I was going to talk John into letting me have his screwdriver. It was a special one that he used to twist off the oven screws that kept the ovens in place on the floor in the baking rooms. Somehow, I'd figure out a way. That's what being in love does for you. It makes you willing to try to do the impossible.

At four, I phoned my Dad and asked him if there was any chance that we could leave work early. John hadn't been willing to either give or lend me his oven screw screwdriver, but Stewie took me to another cabinet, and showed me three others that looked nearly identical to John's. I took one of those, not answering him when he asked me what I was planning on using it for. My father answered me by telling me that Mama had already called him and told him to come home early because Shirley had called her.

"Did you two resolve your problems?"

"Yes."

"Did you finish that list I gave you?

"Yes."

"Did you hire someone to replace Shirley, or is she coming back to work with you?"

"I'm hiring Joyce, that girl from the accounting department. I talked to Sylvia Reynolds, and she said I could borrow her for the time that I'm here. On days when we're not here, or when I don't need her for all day, she'll go back to accounting for part of her training. Mrs. Davenport said it was no problem."

"Very well. Meet me at the car in fifteen minutes. I have some things to get done here, but we can leave around then. I'm thinking of taking your mother to the club for nine holes, and then some dinner after. You and Shirley are welcome to join us if you'd care to."

"No. Thanks for asking me though. Shirley and I need to finish discussing some things. It might be better if you and Mama are gone though. There's liable to be a lot of yelling and screaming."

"I thought you said you'd resolved your differences?"

"We did, and that's why there's going to be so much yelling and screaming." I looked over at the screwdriver I'd wrapped in one of the empty ingredient boxes I'd gotten from downstairs. I was satisfied that my Dad would never guess what was in there. I called Shirley, telling her I'd be home before five o'clock.

After we hung up, I called Ellen, to tell her that I was hiring Joyce to work with me, instead of her. She sounded disappointed, but didn't say anything to try to get me to reverse my decision. When I got to the car, my Dad was already waiting for me. I gave him his list back, along with the three pages of information I'd gathered to complete his requests, and to answer his questions.

We didn't talk much on the trip home. We both had other things on our minds.

I'm not sure how long it took my father to change out of his suit, and to clear out to the country club with Mama, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't any time before Shirley's first loud screams. I got her up to my bedroom, almost before we had a chance to even say hello to each other. I'm not really sure which of us was the one that was trying to pull the other one up the stairs. I do know that Shirley couldn't seem to take her eyes off the ingredient box that I'd taped and wrapped. We undressed as soon as we could, and we were doing it as soon as I laid her down on the bed and crawled between her widespread thighs. Her pussy was red and open even before I touched her.

"Is that it?"

"Yes, but its too big for you. I don't want you to hurt yourself." I knew I was waving a red flag in front of an angry bull, metaphorically speaking, and was soon rewarded with Shirley bucking around, in an out of control orgasmic frenzy. I did my best to keep her pinned tight down on my mattress as I pounded into her with all my strength. She kept finding some new way to raise herself up and press herself even tighter to my groin. There was something so desperate and energetic in this physical coupling we were engaged in. Neither of us was surrendering to the other. It was a contest, with both of us trying to see who could wring more out of the other. I'm not sure who won, but I'm pretty sure it didn't matter. I'm also pretty sure that Shirley thought she won, because she was the first one to recover enough to move over and open up the box. I was almost asleep when I heard her say something.

"See, Kenny, it wasn't too big to fit." I was having a nice dream when her screams woke me up. It was just as well that she woke me, because Gerta phoned a few minutes later to tell me that dinner was in fifteen minutes. We had a quick rinse, and then went down the stairs together. We were almost through with dinner before Shirley asked me if I'd chosen Ellen to be my new assistant or not.



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Chapter 6

I had just finished answering Shirley's question about who I'd decided to give her old assistant's job to.

"Kenny, why would you do that? You knew I wanted you to give Ellen that job. What did Ellen say when you told her?"

"I don't remember what she said. She sounded disappointed though." We were sitting alone at the dinner table, eating a very good dinner that Gerta had prepared for us. She served us in the dining room, treating us both like adults. I had my fork poised in front of my mouth, a piece of beef speared on it, when Shirley remembered to ask me about who I'd decided to hire as my new assistant. There were many good reasons why I'd picked Joyce instead of Ellen. I knew none of them would satisfy Shirley.

I was aware that Shirley was really asking me why I didn't do what she had wanted me to do. I could tell her all of my good business reasons, but I knew that wouldn't matter much to her.

"Well? Why didn't you give her the job?"

"When you quit, Shirley, my father wondered what I was going to do next. If I had hired Ellen, just because she was our friend, or because that was what you wanted me to do, he would have thought I hadn't been serious when I first convinced him to let me have an assistant. I told him then that I wanted to learn how to delegate things to other people."

"That's so stupid, Kenny. Ellen would have been perfect being your assistant. You know that Ellen would have made a wonderful assistant for you."

"Probably, but it would have still been a poor choice for me to have made. Ellen really runs the phone order desk for the whole company. The job she's already doing is way more important than the job of being my assistant could ever hope to be. Her job is really much more important than my job. My father knew that already, and he knows I know it too. I couldn't make a decision, knowing that it would hurt the company, just so you wouldn't be mad at me. If I had hired Ellen, my father wouldn't have said anything about it to me, but he would have been very disappointed. I made the decision that I knew was for the best. I didn't like disappointing you, or Ellen, but, this time, I really felt like I had to."

"What about Ellen? How do we keep her from being depressed?"

"I'll take her to lunch a few times, like I told you. Maybe I can try to find someone down on the loading dock that she'd like to start going out with. There are some younger guys that work there. It shouldn't be my problem though, to keep her from being depressed. I'm not the one who pushed her to try to get your old job." I could see from Shirley's face that she wasn't buying anything I was telling her. To her, it was simple, I'd failed to do something for her that had been in my power to do.

"Its a good thing you didn't tell me about not hiring Ellen before we went upstairs. I would have had it on my mind, and things wouldn't have gone so well."

"I thought you told me not to tell you before we did things? I wasn't trying to hide it from you. I thought I was just honoring your request."

"I didn't say that. Because of that box you brought home, I got distracted, and I just forgot to ask you before now."

"Oh. I guess I also thought that Ellen might have already told you. You said you were going to call her when you got off the phone with me today. I wasn't trying to hide it from you. Maybe, I was just waiting, thinking you would bring it up when you were ready to."

We finished our dinner, and then went back upstairs. Shirley picked up the oven screwdriver, examining it closely, before asking me if I'd brought it home as a present for her. I could see that she was wanting to take it home with her, to add it to her other collection of screwdrivers. I told her that I'd only borrowed it from the maintenance department, that I would need to take it back there. She looked disappointed about that news too. We sat on my mussed up bed, talking together quietly. I guess we were both sated from our earlier activities, although we did manage to keep in some physical contact with little touches and bumps.

Shirley was still worried about Ellen. I told her about Edith not seeming that upset about Earl's announcement. I was trying to suggest to her that Ellen's biggest worry had been that Edith would go back to how she was before, drinking too much, and not letting Ellen live any kind of an independent life. I reminded Shirley that, since none of that had happened so far, maybe it wasn't even going to happen. If it didn't happen, Ellen didn't need to feel that everything in her life was so hopeless.

I ended up our little discussion by telling her that Ellen had to start making some important decisions for herself, by herself, and for reasons that made good sense to her. She needed to find her own reasons for not attempting to take her life again. I felt that Shirley had been trying to give Ellen something she would like, hoping that by doing so, she wouldn't continue to be suicidal. In a way, because of the way Shirley had been treating her, it was like Ellen was being rewarded for trying to kill herself. That was how I saw it, at least, and that is what I said to Shirley.

Shirley disagreed with me completely, saying that friends should always try to help friends. She said that was what you did when your friends were troubled. I didn't have any argument that I felt sure enough about, to try to refute what she said. I didn't agree with her, but I wasn't trained in anything like counseling or psychology. What did I really know?

At ten o'clock Shirley asked me to walk her home. She didn't want me to drive her, so we walked, holding hands, and talking about our plans for the following weekend. I dropped her off at her house, and was home, and in my own bed, before eleven o'clock.

On the whole, I thought Shirley had accepted the news about Ellen not getting the assistant's job pretty well. When I got to work the next morning, at a little past eight, Joyce and Ellen were sitting behind the two desks. Joyce was sitting at the desk in my assistant's office, and Ellen was sitting behind my desk. I approached my desk first.

"Hello, Ellen. I thought I'd be seeing you up here sometime today. Can I help you with something?" She was turning from side to side on my desk chair when I came in. As soon as she saw me, she bounced up from her chair and walked over to close the door separating Joyce's office from mine.

"Shirley says you promised to take me out for some lunches, to make it up to me for not letting me be your assistant."

"No, that isn't what I told Shirley. I said I'd take you out for some lunches, so we could talk. I'd be able to find out how things are going with you. Shirley's been very worried about you."

"Aren't you worried about me too?"

"No. I know how smart you are. If you decide to do something dumb, it will be because you chose to do it. I have confidence that you won't do that again."

"I might. You never can tell."

"I don't like playing that game with you, Ellen. I'm just not going to play it with you. If you want to keep on being my friend, you'll need to find a different way to get attention from me. In the place where I grew up, what you're going through now would be nothing they could understand anyone getting too upset about. You have a mother who loves you, and you get to eat good food every day. I can see how you're dressed, so I know you aren't nearly as poor as all of us were. I don't feel a bit sorry for how your life is now. In fact, I'm not even sure why it is that you seem to feel so sorry for yourself. I feel bad for what happened to your mother, and for what you went through, losing your sister that way. That happened a while ago though, and I can't feel that bad about what you've been going through since it happened. At least you still have your mother. The people I grew up with, most of us had no one, no one at all. Some of them are little kids too, only a year or two old. To kids like that, they would think they were pretty lucky if they had what you have. They would all probably envy you."

I don't think anyone had ever spoken to Ellen like that before. If she made it past me talking to her this way, and if we did go out for some lunches, I knew where I'd be taking her the first time we went out to lunch together. I wondered what she'd think of her own situation, after spending an hour or so touring St. Cecelia's.

Ellen told me she had to get back to the order desk, then she asked me if I was still going to take her out for some lunches. When I said I was, she asked me whether I'd be taking her out that day, or the next day. I told her I'd be taking her out for a long lunch the following Monday. I wanted to call Mother Superior, to make certain that she would allow Ellen and I to tour the orphanage during our lunch on Monday.

I spent an hour with Joyce, explaining what I did, and what I wanted her to do as my assistant. I ended up giving her three things from my Dad's list, and two other things I'd come up with, things that I wanted her to do for me. I didn't really know what to expect from her, and one of my own things I'd assigned for her to do, was to go see Myra, my Dad's secretary, and ask her to give me a copy of the sales and delivery figures from the plant for the past four weeks. I wanted to see if she could get Myra to give them to her. I had asked Myra for them the day before, but she told me I'd have to get my father's approval first, before she'd agree to release them to me. I wanted to find out how resourceful Joyce was. If she wasn't successful in getting those figures for me, I'd have to call my Dad on the phone, and then ask him for them directly. I saw that as being a small defeat for me, a tiny setback to my reputation in my father's eyes.

By noon, the figures I had asked for were sitting on my desk, along with all the other things I'd assigned for Joyce to do. I didn't ask her how she got Myra to release the sales and delivery data.

Joyce was only nineteen years old. She had finished one year of classes at the two year college, before quitting to go to work. This was her first "real" job. She told me that she was an even five feet tall. (She exaggerated by two or three inches at least) She had two bucked teeth up on top, one which seemed to face straight out. She also had a face full of freckles, with eye glasses so thick that it almost hurt your eyes to look through them, at her greatly magnified brown eyeballs. I hadn't exaggerated when I told Shirley that she had bigger breasts than Joyce did. Joyce had absolutely no breasts, at least none that I could discern.

In spite of my description of her, there was this elfin cuteness about her. Her hair was cut short and circular, like she had put a bowl on her head and cut away any strands that still showed. She didn't seem that self conscious about her appearance, smiling often during the time we spent talking about the new job.

I admit that a big part of the reason I'd picked her was so that Shirley wouldn't have anything to worry about, as far as any looks competition from Joyce. Shirley was still pretty insecure about her own looks. I also knew I could concentrate fully on my business responsibilities, and that, with Joyce as my assistant, I wouldn't be tempted to do any fooling around.

Finding out that Joyce was going to be a big help to me had been a really big relief. I didn't know it that early, but Joyce was going to turn out to be a very valuable employee. It was funny how you sometimes did something for one reason, and then, it turned out to be really good thing for you to have done, for another, entirely unanticipated, reason.

Joyce reminded me a little bit of Uncle Bunny. I noticed this quality about her from that very first day we ever worked together. I could tell her what I wanted done, then turn her loose to figure out a way to make it happen. When I gave her my list of things to do, she didn't stop to ask me even one question. That first day she worked for me though, I only got the barest inkling of all of her many talents.

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I had eaten breakfast with Mama earlier that morning, and she had been telling me that she was having a difficult time trying to convince Brenda to go back to that school in Ohio. She asked me if I might have any ideas about what else she could do to convince her to go.

"Does she know about Uncle Bunny's bequest to her?"

"Of course. If it wasn't for the promise of money, Brenda wouldn't even agree to speak with me about it. The problem is that Georgia thinks she can successfully contest those bequest conditions that Bunny imposed on all three of them. Brenda is listening to what Georgia has been telling her about that. Now, Georgia has found a new attorney, one who thinks he'll be able to get those conditions set aside in court. I've talked to Walt about it though, and he's decided he's going to be keeping Richard in that forestry program that Bunny signed him up for. At least Walt has enough sense not to risk, Richard's inheritance."

"Do you think Mrs. Connors new lawyer is right? Will those conditions be set aside?"

"I don't know, Kenny. Bunny was very good with wills, trusts and any kind of estate planning. I talked with Frank Clooney, and he doesn't see how any judge would be willing to set aside any reasonable conditions placed on a voluntarily enacted bequest. Georgia might be able to argue that she wouldn't have taken the actions that disqualified her from getting her money, or rather that she wouldn't have, had she known that the condition even existed, but Frank said that Bunny was under no obligation to make any of his conditions, or the bequest itself, known to her. He thinks Georgia is hoping to set up a nuisance suit, believing we'll offer to settle it with her, rather than contest it in a courtroom."

"I don't care that much about giving her that money, Mama, but if Uncle Bunny went ahead and set it up that way, he must have been concerned about Mrs. Connor doing exactly what she later did. I wonder why he never told her about that condition in his will?"

"Bunny changed his will soon after his heart attacks. He was upset with Georgia, and they hardly spoke any more. He was very worried about Brenda and Richard. I don't think he ever thought Georgia would act so quickly, suing right after he died. I don't think he really thought he was going to die so suddenly. None of us thought that."

"Tell Mrs Connor that I'd be willing to let her have the three million dollars that Uncle Bunny set aside for her, but only after Brenda and Richard have successfully completed the conditions that Uncle Bunny set for them. If they don't, then she gets nothing."

"I don't think you're allowed to make decisions like that yet, Kenny. The money from Bunny is all placed in trust for you. I'm pretty sure you won't have any access to the principal, not until you're twenty five years old. That was how Bunny explained it to me, dear. You get some of the income now, but none of the principal. I doubt the income you have available to you is enough to pay off Georgia."

"I mostly want Brenda to get some help from that school, Mama. You know how important she was to Uncle Bunny. He was so worried about what would become of her if she didn't get some help to change how she looks at things. It would be worth it, if our giving Mrs. Connor that money made her support Uncle Bunny's plans for helping Brenda and Richard."

"I could tell her I'll give her the money then, Kenny. I'd only do so if Brenda and Richard both complete all the conditions Bunny set for them. Actually, this is a very good idea you've given me, but I bet Georgia will still try to get us to give her at least some of the money in advance."

"She really isn't in any position to make demands. I'm really only worried about Brenda, but Uncle Bunny wanted Richard to change too."

-------

When I got back home Thursday afternoon, Mama told me that she and Mrs. Connor had worked out some sort of an agreement. Something about the way she made the announcement kept me from asking her for any of the details about how their agreement was worked out. Mama could be very forceful when she believed in something strongly enough. There weren't many around her who could stand up to her. Mrs. Connor definitely wasn't numbered among the few who could.

I hadn't seen Dad all day at the office. He had gone in early, leaving me behind to have breakfast with Mama. At quitting time, I stopped off on my way out the door, and handed him that day's list, and the several pages of figures and notes that either Joyce or I had prepared for him. I could see he was still very busy, so I told him I'd see him later, at home.

At dinner that night, he started asking me questions about Joyce. He told me that she had kept after Myra to go in and ask him for permission to release the sales and delivery figures, refusing to be turned away, like I had been. She kept after Myra, saying I wanted that information, and that Myra needed to go in Dad's office and get his permission for her to give those figures out to me.

"How did you make the decision that she might make a good assistant for you, Kenny?" He tried to make his question sound casual, like he was just making unimportant dinner conversation. I knew him better than that though. When he talked business at the dinner table, which he did almost every night, it was anything but casual or unimportant conversation.

"At first, I thought of her because she was new, and I thought I could teach her how to do things the way I wanted them done, before she got set in doing things in a more traditional way. After I talked to her though, I noticed that she was very intelligent. I didn't know that she was going to be as resourceful as she showed today. She finished all the work I gave her before lunch."

"I would have thought you would pick someone who made a better appearance as your assistant, Kenny. That seems to be the main criteria most of our younger executives use for picking their secretaries. Joyce does have that unfortunate overbite. I wonder why she hasn't had that looked after?"

"Her appearance is just fine for me. I'm not looking to date her. I really want to have someone to help me be more productive. Ellen came up to my office, really early this morning, to check her out so she could report back to Shirley. I knew she would report that Joyce wasn't any competition in the looks department. I don't want Shirley to be worried about things like that."

"Does Shirley know about the back room off of your office?" I was surprised. I had no idea my Dad even knew. Having him know about it was somewhat upsetting to me.

"I mentioned something about it to her yesterday. I never showed it to her when she was my assistant, and I've never made any use of it either. I didn't ask them to set up a room like that for me."

"I know that, Kenny. Still, just you having a room like that might give some people the wrong idea. You need to be careful that people don't form the wrong impression of you. Reputation is important, in both business, and in life."

"Yes sir." I wondered who had told him about the bedroom. At first, I was suspicious of, and a little disappointed in, the guys in the maintenance crew, thinking that they had been bragging to someone about what they had done for me.

"That office you have now, it used to be Senior Chalmers office. Your mother's father. He had that door put in from the back stairwell into that bathroom. I find it somewhat amusing that you wound up in that particular office, given it's somewhat bawdy history. I believe Senior would have found it amusing as well." I looked at my mother, but she was looking at my father, and smiling at him. She didn't seem surprised, or disturbed, by anything my father was saying to me.

"I didn't pick it out, you know. The maintenance crew picked it out for me, after I told them that I didn't have an office for either Shirley or me." I didn't want to sound like I was whining, but that is how I sounded to my own ears. I noticed my father was trying to pretend that he wasn't almost laughing like Mama was now. I felt uncomfortable to be in the position I found myself in. Given another chance, I wouldn't have tried making excuses. That room was there before I was born probably. There wasn't any reason for me to feel guilty about having access to it.

"Keep me informed about Joyce's progress. She showed a lot of initiative and tenacity today. The way she looks, those qualities will be enhanced and magnified. No one would expect that from someone who looks like her. She could be a real find for you. Now, to change the subject, a group of us are flying to Chicago next week. Some are going on Monday, and the rest of us will go on Wednesday. Ron Jones, Rob Lucas, Virginia, and three of the most senior route salesmen will already be there when we arrive. I would like for you and your mother to join us. I asked Ron to let us bring his wife with us, but he told me they were reluctant to leave Shirley at home without parental supervision. Your mother thought you might want to invite her to go with us, which would mean that Ron's wife could join us too. Your mother wants to plan some cultural activities, for the four of you to attend, the type of thing that we weren't able to get to, the last time we all visited Chicago."

"What your father is trying to say, Kenny, is that, if you and Shirley come on the trip with us, the women will let all the other men, except for you, avoid having to accompany us to the Symphony, a tour of the art museum, or, possibly, a trip to the opera. We four would be staying from Wednesday through Sunday. The rest would fly back on the company plane on Friday. I've been trying to convince your father that he and Ron should stay with us, over the weekend, and we could all fly back together."

I knew my father wouldn't want to go to any of those cultural events my mother was planning. I'd never been to anything like a symphony or an opera, so I hadn't formed any opinions about whether I'd like them or not. The idea of spending a lot of time with Shirley though, was more than enough incentive for me.

"I'll call her as soon as we're done here. It sounds like fun. If Dad agrees to stay for the weekend, can he and Mr. Jones take Shirley and me to a Cubs game, if they are in town over the weekend?"

"I think we can agree to that much, as long as we all meet for a nice dinner and some dancing later on in the evening. Would you agree to that much, Thomas?"

"If Ron and I stayed, we wouldn't have to go to any of the other sightseeing things you have planned? No museums or opera?"

"If Kenny and Shirley are going to be with us, I'm sure we can get along quite nicely without people who don't appreciate beauty and culture."

"Good. You can count Ron and me in then. I'll convince him if necessary. By the way, Kenny, it just so happens that the Cards are playing the Cubby's that Saturday, over at Wrigley. I checked the schedule today, just in case." My Dad had a smile on his face when he said this. I knew he had already anticipated everything that had happened at the dinner table. He was using me to get out of having to attend those cultural events with Mama. I was satisfied with what I was getting out of it though, and Mama seemed just as happy as my Dad did with how everything had turned out. After dinner, I excused myself and went upstairs to call Shirley.

-------

"Hi, how are you?"

"I'm fine. I still think you were mean for not hiring Ellen. She also told me about some of the mean things you said to her today."

"I meant every word I said to her. She has it a lot better than a lot of other people do. She needs to grow up, and stop feeling sorry for herself all the time."

"Did you take that thing you borrowed from work back with you today?"

"I meant to, but I was in such a hurry this morning that I just forgot it. I guess the girl that came in to clean my room must have found it where I left it on my bureau. When I came home, it wasn't there anymore, but I found it in the closet, in the place I keep all the other screwdrivers."

"You left it just laying out on your bureau, in plain sight?"

"Its a screwdriver, Shirley. Do you think she had any idea about what we really used it for?"

"Did you clean the handle off, at least? You did, didn't you?"

"Yes. You know I always like to keep all my tools clean. Did your dad tell you about his trip to Chicago next week?"

"My mom told me he was going to be away on a business trip next week, but that's all she said to me. Why is he going to Chicago?"

"My father wants to show some of the sales people the new vending machine manufacturing operation, to try to get them familiar with the new machine's design and features. These are the machines we'll be using when we set up all the new accounts we get. My mother and I are flying up with my Dad on Wednesday, and then we'll all be staying over until Sunday. My parents both wanted your mother to come with us, but she said she had to stay home, to keep an eye on you."

"She would never say that, Kenny. If any of us kids needed any watching over, it would be Ronnie, not me. Why did they invite my mom to go?"

"To keep my mother company while the men are all off learning about the new machines, I guess. My mother likes museums, the opera, and the symphony. My father doesn't like to go to any of those things. I think my Dad thought your mom would help to keep my mother from trying to drag him off to see the opera or something."

"What will you be doing? Are you going to be with the men?"

"No, I've already seen the new machines. I might go to a Cubs game on Saturday, and I'll be hanging around with Mama, so she won't be all alone, the rest of the time. I think it might be fun to go to some museums. I went to one the last time we were in Chicago. It had a lot of good exhibits too. Even my father liked it, and we stayed right up until the place closed. My parents had a new idea though, they were wondering if you might like to come to Chicago with us? If you came, Mama thinks your mother would agree to go."

"You're inviting me to go to Chicago with you? Did you ask my parents about it yet?"

"No. I wanted to see if you were interested in going first. If you are, then I'll have my mother call your mother, and she can try to talk her into coming."

"I was a little mad at you all day today, Kenny, and now you go and do something like this. Of course, I'd love to go to Chicago with you. Will we have any time to be by ourselves, do you think?"

"I was wondering about that too. The last time we went, I stayed in Uncle Bunny's room, but this time I think I'll ask for my own room. Even if we don't have any time alone though, we'll still have a lot of time to be together."

"Can you have your mom call my mom now? I can't wait to see if she'll let us go. Are you coming over later to take me out for a drive?"

"I don't know if I can tonight, Shirley. I've got a bunch of sales and delivery data that I need to look through. I need to find out if something I've been doing is working out or not. I made kind of a big deal about getting this information from my father, so I need do something with it, to be able to justify him having let me see it. I was hoping to have something ready to hand to him by tomorrow, after work."

"Okay. Its just that I woke up this morning knowing it was going to be another good day today. Even after Ellen called me, and we had our talk about what you said, I still knew it was going to be a real good day for that for me. There will be lots of other good days too though."

"Why don't I get off the phone and go downstairs? My mother needs to call yours, before it gets too late for her to do it. If your parents agree that your mom and you will come with us, we'll need to get together in order to plan what we want to do on the trip. I could postpone reading this stuff until the weekend, I guess." Shirley just laughed. She must have known when she told me it was another good day that I'd find a way to take her out for a drive. I told her I'd call her back as soon as I knew what her mother had told mine.

Mama was on the phone with Mrs. Jones for less than five minutes. I heard Mama's part of the conversation, and it sounded to me like she and Mrs. Jones had planned out this whole thing, even before my Dad or I came home from work. Mama was doing a lot of laughing and talking about the hotel where we'd all be staying in Chicago. I finally found out Mrs. Jones first name when I heard Mama telling her goodbye. For some reason I had never asked Shirley what it was. It was Connie, short for Constance. Mr. Jones always called her Honey or Babe. Maybe he didn't know her first name either.

After listening to Mama and Mrs. Jones talking and laughing together on the phone, I knew for sure, right away, that women used different methods than men did to assure they would get what they wanted. They liked to hatch plots, ones that led men to do the women's bidding, while the men were left thinking that they were having things all their own way.

"All set now, Kenny. We're going to have such a good time in Chicago next week." I knew Mama had allowed me to listen in on her phone conversation with Shirley's mom for a reason. She must have considered it to be a part of my education. As I had gotten older, and especially after Uncle Bunny died, Mama had been trying to teach me things she knew I'd never be able to learn from my father. I think she wanted me to get some insight into how women do things. She would talk with me about things later, asking me questions to be sure I'd learned whatever she was trying to teach me.

"Would it be all right if I have my own room at the hotel this time, Mama? That way you and Dad could have your privacy, and maybe Shirley and I could have some as well." I knew I was taking a chance by putting things out so openly, but Mama already knew that Shirley and I were having plenty of sex. She didn't seem to mind it either. In fact, I felt like she was trying to help me have more and better opportunities to be alone in the house with Shirley.

"I don't know if we want to approach that particular subject like that with them, sweetheart. I'm not sure that would be the best way to get Shirley's parents comfortable with allowing something like that for the two of you. It would be a big adjustment for them to make, allowing you two to sleep together at the hotel. Perhaps we can find a way to work up to that topic a little more slowly?"

"If you let me get my own room, I promise we won't go sneaking around behind her parents back. If they don't want us together that way, we won't try to go against their wishes, not on this trip anyway."

"Very well. I'll certainly expect you to live up to that promise. I wouldn't want to ruin the whole trip by having a big confrontation over something like that. I know Ron would have difficulty allowing anything like what you're suggesting."

After I finished speaking with Mama, I practically ran up the stairs to phone Shirley back. Her phone rang for at least five rings before she finally answered it. She shrieked out my name into the phone.

"Kenny, we're going! I just found out from my mom. I can hardly believe it. She was telling me about some of the places we're going to be going to."

"I know, I heard already too. As soon as I found out for sure you'd be going, I asked my mother if I could have my own room, while we're at the hotel, and she said that I could. The only bad part was that I had to promise her we wouldn't sneak around. We can't do anything together on this trip, not without your parents first saying that its okay."

"You mean no fooling around in your room, right, not that we can't do anything together at all?" Shirley sounded very concerned when she asked me that.

"Yes. We can do all the other stuff you said, like sightseeing, shopping, and going out for lunch and dinner together. Its the things we might want to do together, in private, that we won't be able to do, not unless your parents tell us its okay."

"I'll talk to my mom, Kenny. She can talk to my dad. It isn't like they don't already know that we do all that stuff now. Four nights together in a hotel room, it would be like our honeymoon."

"I wouldn't call it that if I were you, not when you're trying to talk your mother into letting us sleep together in the same room for the trip. She would probably flip out if you told her something like that."

"My mom and I have talked about things like that before, Kenny. We've talked about what might happen, if, after we finish growing up, we still feel about each other like we do right now. She knows how I feel about you, how much I love you. I wouldn't say anything about the two of us having a honeymoon, not if I was speaking with my father, but with my mom I could, because she already knows that I'm planning on having a real one with you someday."

"Be careful, Shirley, because I'm going to hold you to that promise in a couple more years. Do you still want me to come over there, so we can go out for a drive?"

"Come get me, and then you can bring me back to your house instead. I want us both to be more comfortable tonight than we could be in your car. Would it be all right if I slept over with you tonight? I mean if I can get my parents say its okay?"

"Sure, I guess so. I'll ask Mama, but I'm sure she won't mind if she knew your parents know, and they weren't upset by it."

I left to get her shortly after that. Mr. Jones was in the living room when I got there, and he didn't look that happy to see me when he said hello. I saw Shirley standing there, with her little overnight case in her hand. I didn't really understand why he was still getting upset after all this time.

I hadn't done anything lately to make him worry about how Shirley and I were getting along together. I guess it was just something that fathers with daughters would always feel about the boys that their daughters were sleeping with. He had this sense of mistrust of me I thought. I think he made certain that I was never that comfortable in his presence.

Shirley's mom was very different from her dad. She seemed very comfortable with me. I knew that Shirley shared most of the things that happened between us with her mom. There was little that happened that Mrs. Jones couldn't find out about soon after it happened.

We didn't get to sleep early on Thursday night, not until shortly after midnight. We did talk a little about the trip, but mostly, we spoke about our shared dreams for the future. After we finished with that, we put to the test Shirley's belief that it was a good day for us to try making love. It was.

-------

Right before I left to go get Shirley, I had put the oven screwdriver on my nightstand, right next to the bed. Shirley saw it almost as soon as she walked into my bedroom. She never tried to use it, but I could see that just by having it there, it added a little excitement for her to what we were going to be doing. It was like an insurance policy, something to reassure her, just in case we had difficulties getting her to start cumming. We didn't.

There was much more caring and passion in our lovemaking that night. It wasn't our usual all out attack on each other's bodies. It was a quieter, gentler, unhurried coming together. We each were savoring the touching from the other. That touching was as much a form of communication as it was a physical yearning. We wanted the love that we were sharing to be dominant, greater than any need we might have had to experience orgasms. She never screamed that night, not even once, but she kept on telling me, over and over again, how much she loved me, and how much she loved all the things we were doing together.

As a result of what we said to each other, and the inner calmness we both shared while we made love, when we finally did drift off to sleep, neither of us had ever felt so closely connected with anyone before.

I felt like our love was moving along, to an even deeper, more fulfilling stage. Shirley had become such a huge part of my life, an inseparable part, I believed, and she was the one that I most cherished and appreciated. I was filled with a deep sense of well being. I felt confident that I'd found my life's mate. I also believed she felt the same way about me.



-------

Chapter 7

Shirley and I spent the whole weekend together, playing golf on Saturday, and driving into Bolling on Sunday, where we stopped off at my parents apartment and made love for a couple of very sweet hours.

At five, we picked up Ellen at her new apartment. The three of us went out to dinner at this little rib place that Ellen had found. Dinner was very messy, but delicious, and the movie we all went to see after was well worth the time we spent watching it. We drove back to Ellen's apartment, going inside so that I could see it. Edith was there, seemingly in good spirits. I had listened at dinner as Ellen described how surprised she was that Edith wasn't taking Earl's sudden defection to heart.

We headed back home at around nine o'clock Sunday evening. Shirley mentioned that Ellen was jealous because we were going to Chicago for most of the next week, and she was going to be staying home, her only excitement answering phones, and writing up orders at work.

"Kenny, I'm worried about Ellen still. She isn't happy."

"That's because she looks for ways to be unhappy. She doesn't appreciate the good things, doesn't even seem to take notice of them, but let something a little bit bad happen, and she has it memorized instantly, chapter and verse. Ellen doesn't want to be happy."

"That isn't fair! She's had a very hard life. You should be more sympathetic."

"Do you think she had it worse than I did? I seriously doubt that. Most of the kids I grew up with had it a lot worse than she has. I'm not sure what she was expecting. Did she think she was just going to sail along with no problems at all?"

We drove the rest of the way home with an uneasy silence between us. We didn't agree on this at all. We were starting to recognize that we held different beliefs about some issues. We were working on trying to accept those differences without it hurting our relationship, or the way we treated each other.

When we got to Shirley's house, I walked her to the door, and spent several wonderful minutes saying goodnight to her.

We didn't discuss how much progress, if any, she was making with her quest to get her parents approval for she and I to share a hotel room in Chicago. She did tell me, over the phone, on the previous Friday, that she had broached the subject with her mother. She told me then that her mom wasn't going to be as easy to convince as she had thought back on Thursday night.

-------

At work on Monday, I went over the sales and delivery figures that I hadn't gotten to over the weekend. There didn't seem to be any real differences in the figures so far, with Roy, without Roy, and then with Cee Cee in charge. Sales and deliveries were on a slight rise, but the increase was offset by the slightly higher payroll of the last two weeks. I was confused, not understanding why the payroll numbers were going higher. I took the figures over to Joyce. and asked her if she could understand why the numbers for payroll were going up when we had spent over a week with three fewer men on the payroll.

I left her alone to work with the figures, heading down to the order picking and loading area to see how things were progressing. Right away, I noticed a large black man wheeling around backwards on a forklift. He was ferrying loaded pallets from the picking area to the order staging area. This was different than what Cee Cee had told me she planned on doing. I stood around watching though, trying to see how what they were doing compared to how she said she was going to do it.

A few things I noticed immediately was that it gave the picker/checkers more time to work at their specialty, checking the newly picked orders for accuracy. It freed up the picking carts faster too, and eliminated the need for loaders over in the order staging area. The only negative that I noticed was that picking area seemed a lot more crowded with pallets, people, and picking carts. It wasn't even ten o'clock though, and most of the ten by ten areas, set aside for each delivery truck, had at least one loaded order pallet resting in their space.

I found Cee Cee over in one of the picking aisles, arguing with a young male order picker. She was talking to him, using her voice and numerous hand and arm gestures, and he stood there shaking his head from side to side at her. He looked angry and stubborn. Cee Cee was looking like she had about exhausted her patience. I stayed back, about twenty feet behind her, watching to see how it all played out.

"Clint, you don't have any choice about it. We are gonna do it my way. You don't like how I got it set up, you can just quit."

"Cee Cee, your way ain't working. There's too many people picking these orders now. We all keep running into each other in the aisles, and we have to wait until whoever is in front of us gets done with picking what they need. Its one big cluster fuck in here now."

"My way, or you can quit. Its up to you, Clint."

I didn't particularly like what I was hearing from Cee Cee. I didn't know how valid the complaint was that Clint was making, but it seemed to me that Cee Cee was being pretty arbitrary about just dismissing his dissenting viewpoint without commenting on why it was wrong. I moved closer to them.

"Hi, Cee Cee. Lots of changes I see. Do you have a minute?" She turned and looked at me when I spoke. She didn't try to hide her look of annoyance at being interrupted when she was in the middle of something. Finally though, she nodded her head and we turned to walk over to her little office area. When we got there, I asked her to fill me in on what that was all about.

"That's one of Roy's troublemakers. He's been doing nothing but complaining to anyone who'll stop and listen to him. He's mostly unhappy that he either has to do the work now, or else everyone will know he isn't pulling his own weight. Most of the pickers are up to five hundred lines a shift now, but Clint and a few others are stalled out at around three hundred. He says its because of the crowding, but that ain't it. Other people are doing just fine, working under the same conditions. Hell, I already picked as many lines today as Clint has, plus I'm doing lots of other things too. Man, he is just pure ass lazy, that's what, and I'm not putting up with it any more."

"Is he one of the five you told me needed to be fired right away?"

"No, he's one of the ones I said better shape up, but he hasn't."

"Was that your son up on that forklift?"

"No, that was Darren, the forklift driver I said I was hiring. My boy is over on the loading dock, learning how to load a delivery van. Did you see how good Darren can move that forklift? He's so fast, we just started bringing the pallets over to the picking area and checking orders from the cart over onto the pallet. No matter how fast we're checking, he's too fast for us. The checkers are making a game of it, seeing how long he'll go without either wrecking the forklift, or else delivering a load to the wrong staging spot. So far, they haven't caught him in any mistake."

"What do you want to do with Clint, fire him?"

"No, not yet. He'd be a good picker if he ever quits trying to get over on the system. He was one of the main reasons I started checking lines on that chalkboard, so that all the people who are working would be able to see who wasn't. I knew he was dogging it, but he has a lot of the other pickers listening to all his complaints."

"If Clint isn't one of the ones you want to fire, how come you came down so hard on him?"

"Because I want him to know there isn't a chance in hell that he's going to find a way to get around me on this. Either he gets with the program, or he can go work somewhere else. I don't sugar coat anything with these people. It's just like I'm saying it is. Some people, they like knowing where they stand just fine, got no problem with me setting up a standard for them to meet. Some of the rest of them, they think they can stick together, and that will bring things back down to where they used to be. They liked it fine when there was no one being held accountable for how much or how little they did. I'm going to show them how wrong they are in about five hours time. You should come down and watch it. After today, they are going to know I mean what I'm saying."

I looked at my watch, it was ten o'clock, straight up.

"You are going to do something at three o'clock?"

"About three ten I'm guessing. As soon as the early picking is done for the day. At about three thirty, we switch over to late picking and early loading. Today, I'm firing whoever pulled the least order lines. Looks like it is going to be a real horse race between four people. That's why I tried to light a little fire under Clint's ass just now. I don't want him being the horse that gets knackered today."

"Knackered, as in tired?"

"No, knackered as in cut up and then ground up and sold as dog food. I'm firing someone today, based on how many lines got picked. Now, you need to let me get back to what I was doing, else I'm liable to have to fire my own self." Cee Cee laughed, and swung over by the order rack and pulled off the top ticket in the pile.

I went back upstairs to my office, and the first thing I noticed was that Joyce was gone from hers. I left her a note that I was going to lunch, and that I wouldn't be back until around twelve thirty. I went downstairs right after that and told Ellen we were leaving. I mentioned to Edith that we were taking a long lunch, and probably wouldn't be returning before twelve thirty or so. Ellen had a big smile on her face when I said that.

"Where are you taking me, Kenny? I hope its someplace really nice. You're rich, so you can afford to spring for a nice place."

"I'm taking you to a place I used to always eat at. It isn't pretentious, but the service is simply all that you could possibly hope for."

It was only about a five or six minute drive to St. Cecelia's. I had called over and talked to one of the Sisters on Friday, letting her know that they could expect a visit from me, and one of my employees. When I said we were going to be looking around, to see if there was anything they could use to make the place better, I was told that I would be expected and made welcome. I didn't recognize the voice of the sister who answered the phones now. Mother Superior had been unavailable for some undisclosed reason.

I could see the look of disappointment on Ellen's face when I parked right in front of the orphanage. For a few seconds, I wasn't sure if she was even going to get out of the car.

"This isn't funny, Kenny, I'm hungry. I've been looking forward to having a nice lunch with you."

"I lived here for almost twelve years, Ellen. This was my home, and this is where I ate all my meals. I want you to come in here with me so that you can understand me better, and know where I'm coming from when I talk to you. You don't have to be afraid, no one will hurt you inside."

"I'm not afraid, I'm just disappointed. Are we still going out to eat after we finish up here?"

"Sure, we can go wherever you want, so long as we can eat, and still get back to work by twelve thirty today."

-------

It was good to see Maria again, and I had a chance to speak with some of the older kids that I knew before Uncle Bunny came to get me. They weren't older kids when I left the orphanage, but they were now. Several boys told me that they had talked to a man who asked them if they wanted to be adopted, even if it was by someone that wasn't that wonderful of a parent. We laughed about what would make adopted parents bad enough to make us not want to live with them, someone who would make us prefer to remain living at St. Cecelia's. It wasn't really funny to any of them. They all felt as hopeless as I had felt before Uncle Bunny, as desperate as I had been, and each of them believed they had lost out on any realistic chance to ever be adopted. I was happy that Frank Clooney had done what he told me he'd do. He had come to the orphanage to see the living conditions for himself, and I thought that said a lot in his favor.

When I took Ellen upstairs to show her where I had slept, I could see that she understood some of what it must have been like. We both helped Maria on the food serving line. I served the vegetable soup, and Ellen handed out the donated days old bread, and helped me pour the cups of unsweetened Kool Aid. They were serving cherry flavored Kool Aid, and I remembered it had been one of my favorites.

We left the orphanage after serving lunch to the kids, and when I asked Ellen where she wanted to go to eat, she told me it didn't matter much to her, because she wasn't that hungry anymore. I told her she shouldn't feel that bad, because the boys in the orphanage had it a lot better than some of the orphans in other countries. They had a place to live, and food provided for them daily.

I then told her that all the boys would be having pizza delivered to the orphanage for supper, a Monday night tradition that Uncle Bunny had come up with. He knew this pizza restaurant that had given him a good deal on forty large pizzas every Monday. All the bigger kids had pizza, but some of the younger kids had to have a different food due to their age, or their systems ability to digest pizza.

Sister Clara had told me that all the kids were allowed to eat as much as they wanted to, on pizza night, and that there was always some pizza left over after they got done eating. It was a popular item on Tuesday's breakfast menu. It wasn't that big of a deal to most outsiders, but I knew that it was the culinary highlight of every older kid living in St. Cecelia's. It was almost the first question I had asked Frank Clooney when he started asking me about some of Uncle Bunny's charitable activities being continued. When people have so little to look forward to, you don't want to take away one of the few bright spots they can get excited about.

"You really grew up there, Kenny? You looked like those kids we saw in the cafeteria line today?"

"Yes. I feel like I'm still part of them. Once you live like that for awhile, you always feel like you're a part of it. One of the things I'm trying to do is to see if I can't help some of the bigger, older, boys find families that will adopt them. Most of the boys aged five and under will be adopted sometime in this next year. Less than a third of the kids seven to nine, and almost none of the boys ten years old or older. I was almost fifteen when I got adopted. I'd already given up on it ever happening to me. A big part of it was my fault though. I had a real bad attitude. That was why I never got adopted when I was young, and why they decided to kick me out after I finished the ninth grade. I was so lucky that they decided to do that when they did."

"I understand why you said all those things to me when I was up in your office before. Seeing that place, the orphanage, and knowing you lived there for a long time, I can see why you don't think my problems are so bad. They're bad to me though. I don't know how I'd feel if I lived in a place like St. Cecelia's, but I still hate the way my life's turning out right now."

"Change it then. Decide what you need to do to change it, then go ahead and do it. It doesn't solve anything to walk around feeling sorry for yourself. Decide what would make you feel better, and then work to make it happen."

"That isn't what you did. You even admit that you got lucky."

"That's right, I did admit it. I never said I deserved all that I've been given. Mostly, it was just dumb luck where I ended up. I still think I'd have been okay once I was old enough to take care of myself. I studied hard in school, and I paid a lot of attention to how people did things, and how they acted. I was making myself ready, so that I'd be able to take care of myself. You're old enough to take care of yourself, Ellen. You'll never get started so long as you're feeling sorry for yourself, and trying to find an easy way to escape."

"You think I'm looking for the easy way? You're an asshole, Kenny! You think you know all the answers. Just because you found a way, that doesn't mean everyone has a path to being happy. Some of us are just stuck in a situation where they can't ever escape, or even hope to be happy."

"Maybe you're right, Ellen, maybe your particular situation is totally hopeless. Explain all the obstacles to me. What's the biggest thing that prevents you from being happy?"

"My mother. You've seen how she is. She doesn't even have a driver's license."

"What would happen if you stopped rescuing her, Ellen? Do you think she'd stop being able to function? You should give her limits on what you're willing to put up with, and then stick by them. Make sure you don't set limits that you won't be able to live with enforcing though. You need to wean her from being so dependent on you. You'll be a legal adult in a few months. You need to start preparing for your independence, and for making your mother responsible for taking care of herself, so you can be independent."

"She wouldn't allow that. You don't know how she gets."

"It isn't her choice, Ellen, it's yours. You pretend like you're trapped, but you're the one who accepts her demands on you. The next time she wants something you don't want to give her, tell her no. This constant need to have you where she can see you can't continue. It isn't healthy for either of you. Tell her you need to have a life of your own. Your mother will have to make her own decisions about how she's going to handle that. If she chooses to get drunk every night, and then go out and drive a car, that's her own decision, and she'll have to live with the consequences."

"You're a real bastard, Kenny. You aren't anything like I thought you were. She's my mother. I'm not going to just abandon her."

"Really, what do you think it was when you swallowed half of Shirley's parent's medicine cabinet? Wasn't that you trying to abandon your mother?"

"Let's go. I really don't want to be around you anymore."

I stood up and motioned the waitress to come over with the lunch check. I looked it over briefly and gave her the check, along with the money to pay for everything. Neither one of us spoke on the ride back to the company. I didn't think I'd said anything wrong. If she did, that was her problem, not mine.

When I got to my office, Joyce was there, ready to give me a report on her findings. The payroll numbers were higher because they expensed out all the paid vacation time and severance pay that Roy Falson and Terry Klennert were paid. In Roy's case, because of his eleven years of service, that amounted to quite a bit. They were also still billing Steve Lusby's wages to his old department, rather than to maintenance. Joyce had been able to get that straightened out, and payroll figures had been readjusted to show that small difference. Without the one time charges for termination costs, and for vacation time paid, payroll had actually decreased by quite a bit. Joyce had already done a work up showing payroll without all those costs.

In addition, she had somehow come up with the prior year's sales and delivery numbers, which showed that we were running well ahead of those figures. In fact, the last two weeks numbers were stronger by far more than the first two weeks had been. She didn't know if we were going into a slower sales time, but she said we could find that out by looking into figures for the prior five years sales and deliveries, for late May and early June. I liked how she was so thorough about wanting information. That fit in perfectly with my temperament too.

I thanked her for doing such a good job of tracking all that information down, telling her that I couldn't be more pleased with how well she was performing in such a short time. I wasn't sure how serious my father was when he told me I was performing a valuable service for him, helping to make him more productive. I was starting to have an idea though, that Joyce could continue working as an assistant intern when I went back to school. She could report to either my father or to Myra when I wasn't around. I'd have to tell Sylvia Reynolds and Mrs. Davenport that they needed to find another girl for accounting. I was confident my father would back me up.

At five minutes before three, I started back down to the loading area. I phoned my Dad before I left the office, and told him that Cee Cee had promised something interesting was going to happen at around three ten. When he asked me if I had any idea what it was, I told him that Cee Cee was going to fire whichever picker was farthest away from meeting the new quota for picking lines from order tickets.

"How did she set that up?"

"I'm not sure, but she thinks she has a way of figuring out how much work each picker is doing. She also told me that she was including herself in the mix of pickers who were vulnerable. She seemed pretty confident that she wouldn't be the one being fired though."

"I'm not going down there, Kenny. I'm glad you are though. Give me a complete account of it tonight, during dinner. You need to keep a tighter rein on your assistant though. I got two phone calls today, from accounting, complaining about her attitude." My father was chuckling, so I knew I didn't need to defend Joyce to him.

"She needs more sales and delivery data going back for at least five years, for late May, and Early June."

"What is she looking for?"

"Whether sales start slowing down around then."

"School accounts slow down when school lets out for the summer. The cafeterias order and are billed for two weeks in advance. We use an accounting system that would start reflecting a slowdown of income around the first of June, and deliveries around the fifth of June. Why did you need to know that?"

This year, sales and deliveries stayed steady the first two weeks in June when compared with the last two weeks in May, while payroll in the order picking and loading department fell. I guess that means Cee Cee is doing something right?"

"It is too soon to tell yet. It could be a host of other things, but, I admit that having lower payroll for the same sales and delivery figures points pretty convincingly to that as a reasonable conclusion."

I walked down to the picking area, just in time to see all the loaders and pickers gathered around a portable chalkboard that Cee Cee had set up next to where the order checkers had been putting picked orders onto the pallets earlier.

I scanned the numbers on the right side of the chalkboard. Most of the people had gone slightly beyond the five hundred lines that Cee Cee was asking for. There were four people with fewer than five hundred though, and three of those had fewer than four hundred lines. Someone named J. Fleming had only three hundred twenty four lines to his or her credit. Even to me, that didn't seem like much to show for six hours of work. I'd pulled orders that had sixty or seventy lines, in fewer than fifteen minutes. That is, if each product code ordered represents one line. I'd have to ask Cee Cee how she counted lines, but I was pretty sure that was how she did it. If it was, maybe even five hundred lines was too little to expect from a worker. I finally found the line for C.C. Waters, and it had five hundred seventeen lines listed on the right. I was impressed. I didn't know Clint's last name, but he wasn't one of the three lowest, because none of their first names were Clint, or started with a C.

Cee Cee saw me, and I noticed a twinkle of amusement in her eyes as she looked at me and nodded.

"I told you all last week that we were going to need to make some changes here. I also told you that none of your jobs would be safe if you didn't pull your own weight. This morning I told you each picker had a quota to pick five hundred lines from the order tickets. Three of you couldn't even meet a quota that I deliberately set real low. Five hundred lines in six hours isn't anything. I picked more than that in four hours, just to make sure it wasn't something that was unfair to anyone. Still, even with it set so low, a few people decided they didn't need to meet any quota. Jason, you managed to win the booby prize today. You want to know what it is you won?"

"I have a sore leg and back from being injured here at work. I've been telling you that, but you won't listen. Roy knew about it, and he let me have some slack until it heals up some more." The man talking was a younger blond haired man. I thought I recognized him as one of the men that Terry had been telling his story to on the day I fired him, but I wasn't that sure of it.

"I asked you, do you want to know what your performance has won for you?"

"You're going to tell me anyway, Cee Cee, so go ahead with it. I guess it isn't going to be anything good though."

"Some time on unemployment, Jason. That's what you won for yourself today. Tomorrow, for the ones who still work here, we're having another contest, just like today's. If you pick five hundred lines or more, and if you're mostly accurate, then your name won't be in the booby prize pool. Anything less than five hundred, then the low person, under that number, gets fired. You don't need to pick five hundred lines tomorrow, but, if you don't do it, and you still want to keep on working here, you better make damn sure that someone else picks even less than you do. I don't care who you are, or how long you've worked here. If you won't do a decent day's work, I don't want you working in my department. Any of you don't like it, or you want to try to transfer out of here, see this boy over there to make your transfer requests, or to complain about how unfair I am. I'm not listening to any more of your whining either. I'm fifty seven years old, and I'm a fat lady to boot. If you can't do more than I can, you've got no call at all to be coming over and complaining to me."

I stood there later, listening to Jason Fleming telling me all the reasons why he shouldn't have been fired. I vaguely remembered him walking away from that time with Terry, and he looked like he was able to get around pretty good then.

"When did you injure your back and leg?"

"About four months ago. I slipped over by the water cooler, and fell right on my back. It wasn't that bad at first, but after about a month, my back really tightened up, and my right leg got numb."

"Did you go to any doctor to get it looked after?"

"No, I couldn't get any time off to do it."

"Jason, you have to know the company requires you to seek medical treatment for any work related injuries. Did you fill out an accident report?"

"I can see it's no good talking to you either. I guess I need to go get myself a good lawyer, if you're going to treat me like this."

"Might be a good idea. In fact, I'd recommend it. I saw you talking with Terry a couple weeks ago, and your back and leg seemed fine then. I bet you didn't know this, but making a false injury claim is a crime. People try it all the time, that's why companies have people specially trained to observe workers who claim they've been injured. People who take pictures of someone bowling when his back is supposed to be bothering him, or playing softball or baseball on a supposedly bad leg. I'm not saying you aren't really hurt, but I really have no way of knowing, do I?"

"Are you going to let her fire me because I'm too hurt to do my job the way I usually would?"

"Cee Cee is in full charge here. We're going to back her all the way. As far as we're concerned, she's cleaning up Roy's mess for us. That's what we asked her to do." I turned after that and walked away from him. I didn't think he'd come after the company, he didn't seem the type who would be confident enough to try to stand up in a courtroom and tell lies that might be refuted by other people. I found Cee Cee sitting on the desk in the supervisor's office.

"Did you have fun talking to Jason?"

"More than you would have had. Three hundred twenty some lines in six hours. That's really pitiful."

"It is, but its the most he's done, in any one day, since you put me in charge. I've been keeping track of who does what, off the order tickets, ever since I took over. I just put up the blackboard today though. Enough is enough with some of them. I bet you five dollars that nobody picks less than five hundred lines tomorrow."

"No bet. It looks like they're starting the loading. I see you went back to using most of the loaders as pickers again. Why?"

"Had to, not enough work for them as loaders, not until the trucks get back. That damn Darren did all the work I was going to have the loaders do. Starting tomorrow, half the loaders are coming in at noon. This will cut way back on any overtime. I'm not going to hire anyone to replace Jason, or Nell Dotson either, when I fire her, either tomorrow or the next day. I'm just waiting for her to spend another hour over in the ladies room, like she pulled on me today. I don't really need any other reason to fire her, but it would be better if I could point to something she just got done doing. I missed today, because she came out just when I was rushing, trying to get all my lines done."

"Isn't Nell the other black woman?"

"She is, but I'm not firing her because she's black. I'm firing her because she hurts this department with what she says, and how she acts. She doesn't think the rules should apply to her. She also seems to think that she's safe now that I'm the boss, like I'm supposed to protect her because we're the same color or something. Nell is the same to me as any of the others, except I really can't stand the woman."

-------

I went home a little early, but when I got there, Shirley was already waiting for me.

"What did you do to Ellen, Kenny? She was crying when I talked to her an hour ago."

"I didn't do anything. I took her out to lunch and we visited St. Cecelia's before we went out to eat. If she's crying, it must be because she's trying to get you to feel sorry for her. I told her some things about how she might take control of her life, and make it turn out however she needs it to be."

"Did you tell her she should let her mother fend for herself?"

"I told her that her mother was responsible for her own life, and that she didn't need to nursemaid her all the time. She might have interpreted it the way you just said."

"Do you just like to upset Ellen? Is that why you do it so much?"

"I like Ellen. I don't like the way she allows herself to be put in impossible situations, or the way she refuses to try to make changes to improve her life. She has to take her own steps to make her life better. She seems like she's just waiting to be rescued."

"Not all of us can get everything they want as easy as you can. Some of us have to make do with lower expectations."

"Does that include you, Shirley? Are you making do with less than you hoped for?"

"There are some things I wish I had that I won't ever get."

"Name me one and I'll get it for you."

"I'd like to be five foot six." She smiled at me, sure that she had named something I couldn't get for her.

"I read about this guy who had the bones in his legs cut down for some medical reason. Maybe a truck ran over him or something, but the article said he was eight inches shorter after the operation on his legs. We just need to run you over, and then I'll pay for the operation."

"I would like to have your car, or one just like it then." I reached in my pocket and handed her my car keys.

"You can use this one until I can get my money and buy you a new one." She threw my keys into the driveway water fountain and walked away from me. I ran after her. "Shirley, I didn't do anything you need to be mad at me for. I thought we worked things out so you and I could disagree about certain things without making us all mad about everything?"

"I'm not mad about everything, Kenny. I'm mad about this problem you seem to have with Ellen. I wonder if its because she's my friend now, and you're jealous of her?"

"Maybe its because she's your friend now, and you see her side of things, even when she's wrong. You like her too much to do what needs to be done to help her. I don't have to agree with all your ideas. I don't get mad if you see something different than I do. I listen to your reasons for it and then decide whether I agree or not."

"I love you, Kenny, but sometimes, at times like this, I wish I didn't."

"I love you all the time, Shirley, even now, after you told me something that you knew would hurt me."

"I didn't mean it like that, Kenny. I meant that sometimes you don't act like the boy I fell in love with."

"Shirley, we're never going to be able to agree about everything. You have to get used to that. I don't agree with anyone all the time, nobody does."

"I know that, but I asked you nicely, at least fifty times, to treat Ellen nicer. You seem to go out of your way to make her feel bad."

"Maybe you're right. I'll have to give it some thought. If I had my car keys, I'd drive you home, but someone threw them in the fountain. I'd walk home with you, but I need to go get changed so I can dive in and fish my keys back, before I need to drive to Bolling in the morning.

Shirley didn't think I was very funny apparently, turning away and starting down the driveway towards her house. I decided not to pursue her. I'd let her cool off on the walk home. For some reason, one I didn't really understand, Ellen was causing me problems with my relationship with Shirley. This was about the fifth time in less than a week that we had argued about the way we each saw Ellen, and what each of thought should be done about her situation.

Ellen was obviously more important to Shirley than she was to me. I needed to find some way to step back from contact with Ellen, without offending Shirley. I once again wished Uncle Bunny was around to advise me.

At dinner, I filled Dad in about the scene when Cee Cee fired Jason. I told him about Darren too, explaining how much work he could get done on that forklift. After dinner, I went up to my room to think about my problems with Shirley and Ellen... 

I hadn't made much progress on the problem when Shirley called me.

"What are you doing, Kenny?"

"Thinking about you, and about the fight we're having."

"It feels like a fight, doesn't it?"

"It is a fight. Its a fight I don't want to have. I was trying to think of a way that I can stay completely away from Ellen. If I didn't have any contact with her, we wouldn't have a reason to fight about her."

"Yes we would. Ellen is your friend too. You can't just abandon her because being her friend isn't comfortable for you."

"Why not? Right now, the cost of being her friend is higher than I'm willing to pay. I feel like you and I were in a wonderful place in our relationship, and now, because we're fighting over our different points of view concerning how we should treat her, a lot of that good feeling I had about us has disappeared."

"That isn't fair, Kenny, for you to blame Ellen for that."

"What you just said isn't logical. We're fighting about Ellen. Take her out of the equation, and we aren't fighting about anything."

"We're fighting about what kind of person you are. The way you treat Ellen is part of who you are, as a person. I'm looking at that part of your personality, and I'm telling you that it really troubles me."

"I can see what you're saying. If I didn't like children, that would be part of my personality. How I treated dogs would be also. You look at the complete person, not just the part that interacts with you. I understand. I need to think about that now too. It looks like I'm going to be so busy thinking about everything before I decide what is best for me to do, that I won't really have any time to actually live my life. Your point is valid though, and I'm not disputing it. The problem with it is, it makes having any relationship impossible, unless you think about everything in the way your girlfriend likes and approves. I'd have to anticipate a lot too, because there's so much we haven't covered yet. I like the color blue, Shirley, is that okay with you?"

I heard a sound that I interpreted as either a loud sigh or the beginning of a cry of disgust, right before she hung up her phone. I had to wonder if this was going to keep going until it spilled over and hurt our trip to Chicago. I went to sleep that night, knowing that I loved Shirley, but not feeling nearly as close to her as I had just twenty four hours before.



-------

Chapter 8

I slept surprisingly well. I was working on developing my inner calm. So many things had happened to me, things that got me too excited, and too upset. I was trying to take some of my own advice. It didn't make any sense for me to assert to Ellen that she had to take charge of her own life and future, and then not do the same thing for myself. I needed to make some changes too.

I knew I loved Shirley, and that she loved me. Nothing had happened to really change anything about that. We might have some uncomfortable moments ahead, because of this fight we were having, but it wouldn't destroy our love. I was certain of that.

At work, Tuesday, I spent the entire day thinking about the lone item that was on my father's daily list for me. It was basically that the company needing a large amount of short term storage space for the vending machine products that we were getting prepared to ship throughout the Midwest and the Northeast. My Dad had purchased a large warehouse building to house the vending machine repair team and equipment, and to store those vending products that were awaiting immediate rail shipment.

The vending delivery route drivers in Omaha were still picking up at the Lucas bakery building, but everything else being produced there was being trucked over to, and stored in, the new warehouse. With the sales growth we were already experiencing, and the further gains in sales we were anticipating, as the new machines were put into service, our current storage capacity wasn't going to be anywhere near adequate for our needs. My Dad wanted me to look into the storage problem for him, and to try to come up with ideas about some possible solutions.

The main hurdle needing to be overcome was my Dad's list of what he didn't want. He had written that he didn't want to lease or buy another warehouse or storage facility, not until after he had a better idea of what the actual timetable for sales growth was going to be. He wasn't sure that he should locate his future storage facilities in or around Omaha, because he felt all the new vending growth would almost certainly take place elsewhere. What he wanted from me was a new idea, one that would take care of the immediate overflow problem he was experiencing, and still leave all his options open for future decisions. He was hoping I could think of something to buy him some much needed time before he had to commit more company resources to the storage problem.

At four thirty, I still hadn't thought of a single idea that I wanted to present to him. It was frustrating for me. In the past, I'd always managed to come up with ideas. It was a strength I'd showed earlier to him, one that I'd always taken for granted. Moreover, it was one that my Dad had started thinking he could depend on from me. I hated to have to go to him, to tell him I'd come up empty, with no ideas for solving the problem he'd entrusted to my care.

Before I left for the rest of the work week, I went over to Joyce and showed her what I'd been thinking about. I had made a lot of notes, defining all the problems, and outlining the features that would be needed, to satisfy my father's stated goal for an acceptable solution.

She asked me questions about the Lucas bakery, and about the warehouse and storage facility up in Omaha. I explained the building's dimensions for the storage facility, as well as the number of truck loading bays and the capacity of the rail siding. I told her our products came in by truck, and that most of what we shipped out from there would go out by way of rail. It was a lot slower than trucking would be, but more economical for us, because it was going out to distribution centers owned by our companies. From there, it would be trucked out to the customers. All our current distribution centers had rail service with sidings.

We discussed the problem for over an hour, mostly her asking me questions, with me doing my best to answer them for her. Even so, I didn't know even half the answers to the questions she was posing. When I looked at my watch, noticing that it was a quarter til six, I told her I needed to get home, and I asked her to give the problem some thought while I was gone. I told her I would try to call before Friday, to see how she was doing with it.

-------

The flight to Chicago was very interesting. Mama and Mrs. Jones were talking together the whole time, in the limo, and on the airplane. Dad was busy reading reports and memos, and Shirley and I were each waiting for some sign from the other one about how we were going to act around each other for the four day trip. We landed in Chicago, and we still hadn't figured it out yet.

"Kenny, you've been very quiet. Is there something wrong? Don't you feel well?" Mama asked me this as I was bending over to retrieve my suitcase.

"No, I guess I'm a little tired. I've had a lot to think about, and, none of it's very clear to me." I looked over at Shirley who was still sitting by herself, across the aisle from where I'd been sitting.

"This is supposed to be a vacation for us, Kenny. Don't be like your father. You don't have to live and breathe the business. Let's all just try to have a good time while we're here, let's enjoy ourselves. Chicago is a wonderful city, and I just know we're all going to have a wonderful time while we're here."

I hoped she was right. Up until that point, I hadn't had one minute of fun on the trip. I had gone from wondering if Shirley and I would get any chances for privacy together, to wondering if she was even going to speak to me on the trip. She hadn't smiled one time that I'd seen. I'd been watching her too, out of the corner of my eye, for the whole journey.

Our hotel had sent a van for us, and the driver had been allowed to drive out on the tarmac, to where we had stopped after landing and taxiing to the tie down we'd been assigned. The driver was stowing all our luggage away, and my mother was assigning seating for all of us. She told Shirley and me to sit all the way in the back, because we were the youngest, and probably wouldn't be as uncomfortable having to cram ourselves back in there. That way, all of the adults had their own, separate, seats to stretch out and relax on.

"Are we going to be mad at each other for this whole trip, Shirley?" I whispered this in her ear, as I slid in next to her. She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. "I'd hate to waste all this time when we could be doing fun things together. Why don't we set our differences aside for the trip? We can declare a temporary truce, just for the trip, and then we can go back to fighting again as soon as we get back to Ridgeline."

"It isn't that simple. I can't just turn it on and turn it off whenever I'm mad at someone. I don't think you can either." She spoke even more softly than I had, obviously not wanting any of the adults to know that we were fighting

"I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at the situation we've gotten ourselves into. I love you, Shirley, and Ellen doesn't have anything to do with that. The only power she has to spoil this trip for us is the power you give her. We can put her aside for right now, and come back to her later. If we can't do that, this isn't going to be much of a honeymoon for us."

The last part I said while I was leaned over, with my mouth pressed almost against her ear. While I spoke to her, I was breathing in her distinctive scent. Her hair always smelled so clean and fresh. I don't know whether it was the shampoo she used, or what, but I always loved the smell that came from her hair.

I felt her give a tiny, almost unnoticeable, shudder, just strong enough so that her ear pulled away from me and was replaced by her neck. I couldn't resist planting a few tiny kisses on her neck. It was so long and graceful, and one of her many erogenous zones. She didn't pull away from this attention, and I started blowing on her neck softly. She placed her hand on my thigh, steadying herself, while I leaned down again, to steal a few dozen more of those tiny little neck kisses. The fun had finally begun on our Chicago trip. I was so relieved that it wasn't going to be like I had feared when all of us were getting off the plane.

"Truce, Kenny. We won't talk about any of that. I love you too. I hated it that we were fighting. I so wanted us to really enjoy being together on this trip."

When we got to the hotel, we were shown to the same floor we'd stayed on for the other trip that we'd been here. Shirley and her mother were given a suite on the opposite side of the hallway from the two suites my parents and I had. Our suite faced out onto the zoo and the lake. I almost offered to trade rooms with them, so that Shirley would be able to look out at the view of the lake too. The reason I didn't offer was because, when I turned around to say something, Shirley and her mom were already inside their rooms, and the door was closed.

"Kenny, Connie and I had a long conversation on the plane. It concerned what she and Ron have decided, about what they'd permit Shirley to do while we're here in Chicago. Shirley is going to keep all her clothes and her other luggage in the suite with Ron and Connie. She is to make an appearance in her room every morning before breakfast, and every evening before we all turn in for sleep. Connie will tell Shirley, probably she's doing so now, that where she chooses to spend her nights sleeping is going to be left up to her. None of us adults want or expect any mention to be made about what arrangements you two have made in that regard. Do you understand?"

"Sure. Shirley has a room in her parents suite, but they are going to leave it up to her to decide where she wants to spend her nights. She and I aren't to discuss those arrangements with any of you. Shirley's dad says that all this is okay?"

"He isn't happy about it, but, he understands it's better than having to constantly try to police your behavior. He is bowing to the reality that you and Shirley are in love, and that this love includes physical intimacy. You might suggest to Shirley that she be circumspect in expressing her verbal appreciation of your attentions. There are some things a girl's parents should be spared."

"I'll tell her."

"It might interest you to know that Connie told me your father played a big part in convincing Ron that the sleeping arrangements here should be relaxed for you children. He told Ron that he's never seen two people, especially ones so young, fit so well together emotionally. Your father isn't given to sentimentality, so Ron knew he felt strongly about you and Shirley. He recognized how special it was for the two of you to be such a loving couple."

Just then, my Dad came out of his suite and saw Mama and I standing out in the hallway still. "I'm heading over to the vending plant. You're welcome to join me Kenny. Craig and David are up to twenty five completed machines a day. Jim Tanner is finally starting to come around too. He's been over at the new facility all week, checking out the assembly improvements that the boys have initiated. Craig is going to lease him three of the pieces of equipment he bought for their future use. One is for bending the sheet metal, one for sizing and cutting the steel rods, and the other is a power riveting tool. It should allow Jim to almost double his output, once he gets up to speed on operating the new equipment."

"Thanks for the invitation Dad, but I better stick around here to be with the ladies. What time will you be meeting us back here?"

"I'm hosting a dinner tonight for the sales crew, the Tanner's, and Craig. This is a working vacation for me, Kenny. I promised your mother that I'd leave you free to enjoy yourself this trip, but some of us have to work to pay for all of this." I knew my Dad was just kidding. He was relieved to be free to do what he enjoyed, what he did best, and happy that Mama had people around her that would appreciate sharing her interest in cultural activities.

Mama said we were having lunch in the hotel first, and then taking a cab over to a small art exhibition. After that, if there was still time, she wanted all of us to tour De Paul University. We had a nice lunch, but I could tell that Shirley was practically bursting for an opportunity to share the news that her mother had given her back in their room. I noticed that Mama and Mrs. Jones were smiling at each other, and that they continually looked over at the stupid grin on my face, and the flushed pleasure so evident on Shirley's happy countenance.

The museum was a lot bigger than I thought it would be. I liked looking at some of the pictures, but my mind was more on being there with a very excited Shirley. From what Shirley was whispering to me, her mother had explained things a little differently to her than mine had explained them to me. One difference was that Shirley had to remain with her parents evenings, right up until they decided it was time for them to retire. Once her parents had gone into their bedroom, Shirley was free to go into hers, or to come over to mine. She wasn't to leave the hotel, not for any reason, once her parents had retired for the evening. She was responsible for being back in her own bedroom before seven o'clock each morning, with no exceptions or excuses allowed. It sounded to me, from what Shirley was telling me, that one or both of her parents wanted to pretend that Shirley was spending her nights in her own bedroom.

We didn't make it over to tour De Paul University. We did find out that Mama's father was a graduate of De Paul though, and that he had taken Mama and Uncle Bunny to tour the campus grounds whenever they were visiting in Chicago.

After returning to the hotel, necessary because all the women wanted to freshen up, and change into their evening clothes, we all went right back out to have our dinner. I had been told to change into my best suit, which I happily complied with. Mama took us to this fancy French restaurant. The service was great, and so was all the food, but it all came in such tiny portions that I knew I'd be calling room service after we returned, to order up a hamburger and some fries.

When we returned to our hotel at about nine, Dad and Mr. Jones were having a drink together in the hotel bar. As soon as we walked through the hotel door, a bell boy came over to tell us that Mama and Mrs. Jones were invited over to the bar for a nightcap. Mama told me to take Shirley up to my room, and to show her the night time view of the lake and all the lights from boats moving out there on the water.

I took her up to my room, but we didn't spend all our time looking out at the view. I ordered room service, after first finding out that Shirley was just as hungry as I was. She wanted a club sandwich and I stuck with ordering a hamburger and fries. I ordered a strawberry milkshake, and Shirley asked for a glass of milk. It took about thirty minutes for the food to arrive, and Shirley and I managed to keep ourselves happily entertained while we waited.

When someone knocked on the door, I thought it was room service, but it was all four of our parents instead. They came in the room, and I saw Mr. Jones looking all around, paying particular attention to the slightly mussed up covers of my bedspread through the open door of one of the bedrooms. Shirley and I hadn't been doing anything other than kissing and some light petting, but I could see that Mr. Jones was still feeling uncomfortable.

A minute later, our room service order did come, and my Dad invited Mr. and Mrs. Jones over to his suite, for another nightcap, saying that our food looked too good for him to just stand around and watch us eating it. Shirley had been given her own room key, and her mom told her to come over as soon as she was done eating. After they left, Shirley and I spoke about her Dad's obvious look of discomfort. To me, he looked like a man who had been talked into something he found distasteful. It made me uncomfortable, and I mentioned it to Shirley. She told me that she felt uncomfortable about that also. Neither of us wanted to feel bad about what we were planning on doing. After talking about it some more, we came to a joint decision.

After we finished eating, we went over and knocked on my parents door. The four of them were now sitting in the living room area, drinking and talking. Shirley went over and sat down on the sofa, next to her dad.

"Daddy, Kenny and I both decided that we think you're unhappy with the arrangement that was made for us to be together on this trip. That makes both of us feel bad. We've decided that we don't need to sleep together on this trip, not if it would mean that you would be upset that we did."

"I never said anything about that, Shirl. Your mother and I were both in agreement that you were old enough, and mature enough, to make this decision for yourself. What you saw was a concerned father having some trouble accepting that his little girl is all grown up now."

"You looked unhappy though, and we don't want to be the cause of your being unhappy." Shirley leaned in and hugged her father's arm. He looked like he was close to crying when she did that.

"No, you aren't the cause of that. It's just knowing that you're all grown up now. You'll understand this better when you have your own children. It's another step that all parents need to go through, part of the letting go process. I'm a little sad to see you all grown up already, but I'm happy to see you so excited and in love. It means the world to me that you care enough to think about your old Dad's feelings at a time like this. I'm not unhappy about you and Kenny, and your mom is right that we shouldn't try to make you pretend that you are still a little girl. You go ahead and move your things into Kenny's room if that's what you'd prefer doing. Keep your key to our room though, just in case he stops treating you so good."

Shirley kissed her father on the cheek, giving him a big hug, then she got up and nearly dragged me out of my parent's suite, over to her old room, so that I could help carry her things over to our rooms. Once we got all of her things put inside the smaller bedroom, we retired for the night.

Several times I had to caution Shirley about her being too loud, but, in truth, my heart really wasn't in it. I wanted her to be able to give free expression to all her feelings. For someone so passionate, to need to be stifled in expressing her enjoyment, it just seemed very wrong to me.

Shirley had been forced to work very hard to achieve her orgasms in the beginning. Now that she had managed to overcome whatever obstacle it was that had prevented her easy enjoyment of orgasms, I didn't want to give her a message that there was anything wrong with expressing her pleasure when she experienced it.

Cautioning her or not, there came a time, right before we were finishing up for the night, where I was too caught up in my own growing pleasure to think, or care, about any sounds that Shirley might be making. I was vaguely aware of them, at some level of my consciousness, but not enough so that it really penetrated into my thoughts.

At breakfast the next morning, all our parents were smiling at us. No one said anything, but Shirley started blushing, until her face was a deep pinkish hue.

"Don't you dare be embarrassed about any of that, Shirley. To like something enough to get that carried away, that's a real blessing. I can't speak for anyone else here, but to me, hearing you last night just made me so happy for the two of you. I cried because I knew you had found something very rare and special."

Mama had reached over to take my hand and Shirley's in hers as she spoke. Her eyes were glistening, and for everyone at the table, it was one of those special bonding moments. It was as though all four of our parents were conferring their blessing and approval on our sex life. It was deeper than that though, and it was more than our sex lives that they were bestowing their approval upon.

The rest of the visit was filled with sightseeing and shopping during the day, long, wonderful dinners each evening, and passionate nights spent entwined with Shirley on our bed.

We attended a performance at the opera on Friday night. I found it interesting, but, now that I'd seen one, I thought there were many other things I'd prefer to spend my time enjoying. Many, many other things.

On Saturday, all of us went to the Cubs game, and watched them lose a 1-0 heart breaker.

All six of us went out and had a big seafood lunch on Sunday. It was our last outing before flying back home.

It was while I was on the plane, headed back home, that I remembered that I hadn't called Joyce on Friday. Remembering that, reminded me of the assignment my father had given me on Tuesday. Having one problem on my mind, made me think of other problems, including the truce that Shirley and I had declared for the duration of the trip.

"Shirley, I don't want our truce to ever be over. I want things to stay just like they are." I was sitting beside her on the plane, her head resting against my shoulder. She stretched out her body in a long, catlike, yawn, and then she snuggled right back on my shoulder. She hadn't said anything to me, but I thought she had given me her answer. I hoped I was right, and that our fight was over.



-------

Chapter 9


I went into work Monday morning early, arriving in my office before seven. Joyce wasn't due in for another hour, but I looked on her desk to see if she might have left any work out that would give me an inkling of whether or not she'd managed to make any progress on solving my Dad's storage problems. There was nothing. I'd checked the top of my own desk earlier, and it was just as free of anything as it had been when I'd left on the previous Tuesday.

Sunday night, while we were at dinner, Dad and I had talked about the daily list. He told me to concentrate on finding him the solution to his storage problem. I had tried to think of some way I could tell him that I didn't feel confident that the problem could be resolved without him having to spend more money. I finally decided to hold off on telling him that, not wanting to sound like a quitter, and, hoping that Joyce might have already come up with an idea of her own.

By eight o'clock when Joyce came into her office, I still hadn't been able to think of a single possibility that might work. I did have a vague idea about checking to see how much storage area was free at the company's distribution centers. Perhaps we could park some of the product at the distribution centers.

One look at Joyce's face when I asked her if she'd come up with any good ideas, told me that she hadn't. I started feeling guilty because she seemed so down on herself, thinking that she'd failed me by not having a solution for the problem I'd left her with.

"Joyce, please don't feel bad about that. I'm the one who was supposed to be able to come up with some ideas for my Dad. I just asked you to think about the problem while I was gone. I wasn't expecting you to solve it for me. The way my Dad set it up, I'm not even sure if anyone could solve it. He wants us to find him something that's valuable, but he doesn't want to pay anything for it. He wants something for nothing. People don't give away warehouse space for free, and that's what he's looking for."

"Are you going to be in trouble, Mr. Parsons?" I had been asking Joyce to call me Kenny, but she just wasn't comfortable doing that. Usually, she found a way not to have to call me by any name.

"I don't think so, but we haven't given up on finding a solution anyway. I don't think my Dad expected us to come up with a solution right away. We'll think of something before we're done, don't worry." Now, after having told her that, I felt like I'd put even more pressure on myself to come up with something.

There had to be a way to get what my father was asking for. A way that we could store product without having to pay for leasing or buying a building. Perhaps there was some government subsidy or program?

Reagan was President, and he was supposed to be very business friendly. I was always reading in the papers about something he'd done to help big corporations profit at the expense of the "little people". I'd had to listen to enough outbursts from my father about how that wasn't true. Dad was still upset about all the closed tax loopholes, and he blamed them on the President.

Trickle down economics seldom trickled past corporate owners. To my father, big government subsidies made perfect sense. He had trouble with the idea of personal welfare, but corporate welfare made perfect sense to him. Maybe there was some Armory or National Guard barracks in Omaha that weren't being used. Who would I need to call to find out about that?

-------

I went down to the loading area and spent an hour just watching the pickers working on the pull tickets. They appeared to be well on their way to readying the next day's deliveries for later loading.

Cee Cee now seemed to have everything well choreographed, like some kind of complex dance routine. I noticed there wasn't as much crowding as the last time I'd been down on the order and loading floor. I also noticed that the pallets had been spread out in a much wider arc, so that pulled orders could be checked and placed on pallets by more checkers than before. I wasn't sure why, but things just seemed more efficient and smoother than they had been before.

I found Cee Cee sitting in her office, going over some loading paperwork.

"It looks like things are going smoother Cee Cee." I was smiling as I approached her. At least something I'd been involved in was starting to pay some dividends for the company.

"Still need to make more changes. Them loaders making too many mistakes. I'm going to try something new today. Thursday, we sent out two trucks with all their orders wrong. That shouldn't have ever happened. We're going to make sure it doesn't ever happen again. Now, we got checkers with every truck being loaded, and we have a manifest for every truck. If the same thing happens again, there are going to be three people fired. No excuse for what happened, and no reason it should ever happen." She was waving the papers angrily as she spoke. I liked the way she was taking these problems personally. Cee Cee had passion, and she wasn't one to get discouraged. I felt sure she would get those loading errors straightened out. When she had a system in place that met her standards, the company route deliveries would be in very good shape. I smiled at her and left her to her work.

I stopped up at my Dad's office for a few minutes. I wanted to ask him about any government programs that might allow us to use any surplus storage capacity that the military might have in and around Omaha. He was out of his office, and Myra told me he wasn't due back until late that afternoon.

Back in my office, I called Virginia in Omaha. I spent fifteen minutes on the phone with her, asking her questions about current and anticipated future storage needs. She had a breakdown of the numbers, but, she too had no good ideas about how to solve the problem. She did tell me there were three rail cars at the siding by the new warehouse, but then she also made me aware that all three were currently used for temporary storage by the company. When I asked her about getting more rail cars, she told me that our siding only supported three or four cars, and that the side loading door bays could only service three rail cars at a time anyway.

It was Joyce who had the idea first. I was telling her about the information I'd gotten from Virginia when she asked me how long the railroad would let us use the rail cars without our needing to ship them. I called Virginia right back for the answer, but she didn't know. Instead, she gave me the name and number of the woman at the railroad office who handled scheduling for rail shipments with our company. I gave Joyce the name and number, telling her to call to find out how our use of the rail cars was set up.

I left to go check in with Edith, Ellen, and the rest of the phone room staff. Every time I went down to the order room, it seemed like they had done something else to make it seem less like a workplace, and more like their own private clubhouse. This time the new improvement was a black recliner. Ellen was sitting back in it, the chair in its most reclined position, her order pad in hand, talking on a headset she was using instead of through a regular telephone receiver. As soon as she saw me, she sat up and started hurrying through her phone call. I went over to the other end of the room and said my hello's to Edith, Myra and Linda. This Myra wasn't my Dad's secretary, she was the phone order person, a woman who never seemed to stop talking. Linda said hello, then excused herself to go into the order room.

After speaking with Edith for five minutes, I felt caught up on everything that had taken place since I'd left work the previous Tuesday afternoon. Edith seemed to still be in good spirits, and was even talking about trying to get a limited driver's license, so she could drive to and from work for herself. She said she had contacted a lawyer to look into the possibility for her, and was saving her money to retain him to make the appeal to the judge who'd suspended her license the last time.

I told her that I knew a lawyer who might help her get a limited license back, someone who would do it on credit, so she could make payments to him. I needed to contact Frank Clooney anyway, to see how he was coming with my idea of helping the older boys from St. Cecelia's get adopted. I figured that he would know someone in Bolling who was good at getting work related restricted driving privileges restored.

I took Ellen out for another long lunch. I told her about the trip to Chicago, and about how good a time Shirley and I had enjoyed together. Once again she started complaining about how Shirley and I got to have a lot of fun while she stayed at home and didn't have any.

"Ellen, you're getting very close to the point where you are going to lose me as a friend. Ever since you and Shirley became friends, I've had to deal with Shirley's concern about all your problems. It has already caused us to have several fights, bad fights, fights where we ended up too mad at each other to even speak about things."

"You can't blame me, Kenny, I wasn't even there for most of them."

"I can blame you, Ellen, and I do blame you. You're using your unhappiness to deliberately try to drive a wedge between Shirley and me. I'm not going to allow it to continue. The next time Shirley and I have an argument about you, I'll make sure you are completely out of my life. I like you, and you're a big asset to the company, but I'm not willing to keep you around if you come between Shirley and me."

"See, that's how you do things. I told Shirley that you'd start threatening me. You don't want her having any friends except for you."

"Ellen, you know that isn't true. You're too smart to play dumb like you have been. I know that you knew exactly what you were doing when you played on Shirley's worry and concern for you. I've also watched your mother, and I know she isn't nearly as dependent on you as you've led us to believe. I've given you this warning, and you better realize that I'm serious. Stop doing things to come between my relationship with Shirley. I won't put up with anymore of it from you."

She sat there in the restaurant staring at my face. I could see that her quick mind was working at full power, trying to plan a next move, one that would allow her to continue on with whatever her plan had been. I'd come to the conclusion that she had to be setting all these things up deliberately, some plan she had to come between Shirley and me. I assumed it was because she wanted me for herself. It might sound conceited, but that was what I believed. To me, it was the only thing that made sense, the only reason why she might have acted like she had.

"Even if I don't do anything, you'll still find a way to make it seem like I did." Ellen spoke quietly, sounding resigned to being on the receiving end of yet another injustice.

"Ellen, I've never done anything to hurt you. In fact, I've gone out of my way to be helpful to you. Until things started happening with you and Shirley, things that always seemed to make us fight with each other, I never had any problems with you. I love Shirley, and I won't let anyone come between us. If you continue to try to do that, I've told you what will happen."

"You'd fire me?"

"You for sure, maybe your mother too. I'd do what I felt I had to do."

"My mother hasn't done anything to you."

"It would depend on how far I felt I had to go to sever our relationship. So far, you haven't worried about who got hurt by your actions. I can be just as uncaring as you are."

"What do I tell Shirley?"

"I don't know. Tell her the truth, that I blame you for getting us into these fights, and that I've threatened to take punitive action if it happens again."

"She'll side with me, and then be mad at you for talking to me like that, I'll end up getting fired. I really haven't tried to cause any fights, Kenny. Shirley thinks you've been mean to me too. I haven't told her to be mad at you."

"Maybe not in those words, but you've called her up and cried to her, telling her how bad I'm making you feel. You've been using Shirley to try to get something going between you and me."

"Kenny, I swear to you that isn't true, honest!"

"Ellen, it doesn't matter whether it is or it isn't true. The only thing that matters now is that I'm tired of it happening over and over again. Something has been happening, and, every time it does, I'm the one who ends up being unhappy about it. I'm just telling you if it ever happens to me again, you're the one who's going to end up unhappy. You should take this as a warning, because that's how I mean it."

"Are you trying to get me to stop being friends with Shirley? If you are, then you might as well go ahead and fire me right now." Ellen had stood back up, her face was red and angry. I sensed that this was her final attempt at trying to get me to back down, to withdraw my earlier threat.

"I'll have your final check ready in personnel at three o'clock. I'm sorry you decided to keep pushing this thing, Ellen. You're giving up a good future at the company."

"I'm really fired?"

"Yes. Now you can remain friends with Shirley as much as you want to. The fights Shirley and I had were mostly about how I was treating you. Now I won't be treating you at all. Shirley will be mad about me firing you, but she'll get over it eventually."

"Kenny, please don't fire me. I need my job."

"Ellen, it was you who told me I needed to do that. I don't want you making trouble for me with Shirley. You needed to either quit being friends with her, or else leave your job. We both know you weren't going to be able to stop causing trouble without one of those things happening."

"That isn't true. I could still be her friend and work at the company. I could quit blaming you for the things that you say to me. I don't like you very much anymore anyway. You were so nice in the beginning, but now, I can see how mean you're able to be. If you give me another chance, I promise I won't make any more trouble for you."

I stood up then too, staring at her. I was waiting, like I still wasn't decided on what I would do with her. Finally, after a long fifteen seconds, I nodded my head in assent.

"One last chance, Ellen, but no more. You have to quit all this talk and hinting around to Shirley and the rest of us about being suicidal too. It really has Shirley worried. It isn't enough that you stop causing me trouble, you have to stop getting Shirley upset too. She's trying to be a good friend, and you're taking advantage of her."

As we left the restaurant, we also left a lot of our personal tension behind. We'd both known something was coming, and it had us nervous and uneasy. Now that it had been settled, both of us were relieved. I wondered what the mood in the phone and order room would be like after this? I hoped it would go back to being the happy, relaxed, place it had been before the tensions surfaced between Ellen and me.

-------

Back in my office again, I encountered a very excited Joyce. While I'd been out having a long lunch, Joyce had been at her desk, being passed from one person to another at the rail line sales office. Joyce had asked a lot of questions, and she had been transferred from one extension to another, supposedly to people who could answer her questions.

She had finally gotten real lucky, when she happened across the personal secretary to the man in charge of national sales contracts. This secretary proved to be in possession of a wealth of information and experience. During the course of a forty five minute phone conversation, she had given Joyce information on a way to do everything she'd need to do to meet, and even exceed, my father's demands for free short term storage space.

Since we were going to be shipping quite a bit by rail anyway, Joyce was told that once the company committed to moving more than one hundred rail cars per year, through the Omaha switching station, we could have access to up to twenty five rail cars at any one time. We could fill them, and then have them transferred over to the railroad's storage area to await later shipment, when the rest of an order was ready to be sent. Freighting back and forth to the siding was included in the shipping quotes we already had, and the railroad even provided free insurance against loss by theft, fire, or other mishap for any cars stored in their yard.

These rail cars were forty feet long, by eight feet high, by eight feet wide. That was enough room to fit about twenty pallets per car with extra room, in the middle, for vending machines or other equipment or products that didn't require fork lift access to put them on or to take them off.

I was elated, for myself, and for Joyce. I already knew that we were currently shipping out more than three rail cars per week. With future growth, we would far exceed those thresholds for qualifying for rail car storage. Joyce had done something I'd considered nearly impossible.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon writing a report on Joyce's discovery for my father to read. I insisted that Joyce issue the report under her name, since I knew she had earned, and deserved, all the credit for finding a solution. I also knew that I'd get some reflected credit too, after all, Joyce was my assistant intern, wasn't she? I wasn't focused on getting any glory for myself though. I was just relieved that I wouldn't have to report back to my father that I had failed in a task that he had assigned me.

At four thirty, Joyce and I went to my father's office together. Both of us were excited. I could tell that Joyce was also nervous. I had told her that I wanted her to hand my Dad the report, and then stand by to answer any questions he might have. My father had a keen eye for business talent, and I wanted to be sure that he had ample time and opportunity to find out for himself about Joyce, and her talents and abilities.

"Hi Dad. I brought Joyce here to show you what she came up with." I smiled at him and went over to the side of his desk and sat down. For a few seconds, I was concerned she was going to be too nervous to even hand my Dad the report. She did step forward, after a few seconds pause, and hand over the three page report we'd prepared. There were some logistical questions that would need to be ironed out in actual practice, but these were minor things that concerned scheduling and shipment sizes.

Joyce continued to stand there in front of my Dad's desk for the entire time it took him to read the report. I had an advantage over Joyce, because, sitting where I was, I got to see my Dad's face after he had read the first third of a page. I could tell, as soon as he started reading the part about having free access to 25 rail cars for storage, because of the smile that spread across his face. He put the report down for long enough to ask if the availability of rail cars went up proportionately if he committed to shipping more than one hundred rail cars per year. I nodded at Joyce, asking her to answer him, even though he'd addressed the question to me.

"Yes sir. Mildred, she's the one who told me about this program, said that it was adjusted upward based on actual shipping numbers. She also told me that they weren't strict about keeping track of how many cars we were using for storage, as long as we didn't abuse things by never shipping the cars out for long periods of time. I got the impression that some of their biggest accounts try to take advantage of them by doing that, especially the meat companies that are using the refrigerated rail cars. She told me that we'd be considered new business, and should be able to negotiate a favorable first contract with her boss. I do know, just from talking to her, that contract rates are a lot better than the shipping rates we're getting now. I think she said we could expect to receive a forty-five per cent discount from their single car rates. She said that single car was the rate we were getting now."

"Are you sure about that figure, Joyce? We've been concerned about the premium we've been paying for our rail shipments over our tractor trailer costs. For us, it mostly came down to the added convenience of being able to keep our truck loading bays clear for all the incoming shipments, and being able to make use of the rail sidings that we already have. Forty-five per cent discount, that would make rail shipment very competitive with our current trucking costs, on a mile for mile basis."

I stepped in then, telling my Dad that Joyce had taken several pages of raw notes during what was a very long phone call, and that she'd underlined the forty-five per cent figure at the time she wrote it down.

"Joyce really put in a lot of effort on this, Dad. She even skipped her lunch so that she could pursue this idea of hers. Even though she's relatively new to the company, I think some kind of recognition is in order. Either a big bonus or a pay raise. I know this was a problem that you really wanted to get solved, and she did it, almost entirely on her own initiative, and she showed great persistence."

"I think you're right, Kenny, on both counts. Why don't you give the matter some thought, then write me up your recommendations. Employee initiative should always be rewarded. You're right too, about how important solving the storage situation is to us. If our initial rail contract includes the price concessions Joyce has alluded to, those savings alone represent a very substantial gain for us. Kenny, why don't you and Joyce fly up to Omaha tomorrow morning, to see if you can get something put in writing for us from the railroad? Try to get us a sliding rate scale, from one hundred, up to six hundred, rail cars per year. If you run into anything the two of you can't handle, call me and I'll either take care of it from here, or else fly up there myself, if you think it's necessary."

We got up and left then. Joyce was floating on cloud nine at the prospect of a pay raise or a bonus, and even the flight to Omaha was exciting, because she'd only flown once before, on a commercial flight to Cleveland when she was very young. I told her we'd probably fly up and back the next day, but asked her to pack some changes of clothes, in case it turned out to be longer than that.

It didn't even occur to me that Ellen might call Shirley to tell her that I was flying to Omaha on the company plane with my new assistant, or that Shirley might be jealous of Joyce and me being together like that. I didn't think that way about things like that. I never did find out how Ellen even found out that we were taking the trip to Omaha anyway.



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Chapter 10

Tuesday morning, a little bit before seven o'clock, Joyce pulled into the employee parking lot. She got out of her car, and a young man slid over behind the steering wheel, and backed out of the parking space before driving away.

"That's my brother, Jack. I'm letting him use my car today, so he can look for work. He just got out of the Air Force last month." This was all information she volunteered to me before she got into my car to drive out to the Bolling airport. We were scheduled to fly up to Omaha before eight o'clock. It was also the longest, non-work related statement she'd ever made in my presence. "This is a nice car, Mr. Parsons. It's almost new, isn't it?"

"Yes. I got it new last year, for my birthday. A gift from my parents." She had reached out and ran her hands along the leather seat covers, touching the chrome and paneling on the dash as well. The car she had arrived in was an older Oldsmobile. I had noticed that it was smoking from the exhaust as she had pulled up in it earlier. It was also badly dented on the driver's side, and a little rusted on the left wheel well. I'd noticed that much when she had pulled into the lot.

"I'm going to save up and buy myself a new car one of these days. My car keeps breaking down, and I spend a lot of money, just having someone fix it enough to where it runs for me again."

"Would you like me to ask my father to lease you a new car? A company car, but one you could use for personal things also. It could be that bonus I was asking him about."

"That would be too much. I thought you were talking about a fifty or hundred dollar bonus, and that would be a lot to me."

"Joyce, what you've done is worth a lot more to the company than a hundred dollars. You should have heard Dad bragging about you to my mother at dinner last night. He's really excited about what you've come up with. These are the things that really get him excited. You need to start thinking more of what you have to offer a company like ours. You have a real gift, and my Dad recognizes that now. He really understands the importance of having good people working with him. Would you like a big car like this one, or something smaller, like a Mustang or a Camaro?"

"I'd like a big one like this one, something that's full sized. People always think I'd like something small because I'm so small, but it's really just the opposite. For once, I'd like to drive a big, new, powerful car, one just like this one."

I pulled off to the side of the road and turned off the ignition. I got out and walked around the back of my car. By the time I opened the passenger side door, Joyce had already scooted over behind the wheel and was adjusting the power seats forward and raising the back up closer to vertical. By the time she was finished adjusting the mirrors, her seat was as far forward as it could get, and she still had to sit a little forward in her seat, just to reach the gas and brake pedals. She drove us out to the airport, following my directions when we were inside, so that she was able to drive over to where the company plane was being pre-flighted by the pilot. I showed her where to park, and she managed things perfectly. She was positively beaming when she handed my car keys back to me.

Once we boarded the plane, I took her up to the cockpit and introduced her to the pilot. There were three or four pilots we used, and this one was named Dick, and he was a salesman for an insurance company who only moonlighted as a pilot. The company we used for maintenance and for providing us with pilots, hired quite a few part time people, but they also had full time pilots and mechanics as well. Dick had been a pilot in the Navy, but had kept up his flying after he left the service. I left Joyce up in the co-pilot's chair with Dick, and went back to take my seat in the rear. I could tell, from the way Joyce kept moving around and watching everything, that she was fascinated with flying on a non-commercial flight. I had been like that too, the first few times I flew in the plane. Flying was a lot more interesting in a smaller plane, more personal.

Once we got to Omaha, we were picked up by Virginia and driven over to the Lucas Company. It was less than ten minutes from the airport. I hadn't expected Virginia to be the one to pick us up, but she said she had spoken with my father, and he had asked her to explain further about the new plant capacity, now that they were operating with two shifts, and for her to give us a briefing about her father's expansion schedule for all the new vending machines we were getting.

For the past eight months, the vending machine production had kept growing faster than anyone had anticipated. Rather than sell any machines that had been produced in excess of our current needs, my father and Rob Lucas had decided to simply increase their sales goals for placing the new machines.

I already knew this policy was giving Shirley's father a lot of grief. As soon as Mr. Jones made the necessary adjustments for the number of sales trainees he was supposed to hire and train, my father or Rob would call him and give him a whole new number, telling him that he needed to plan for meeting this new goal, and have the sales people ready to start, as close as possible to what the new schedule called for.

From talking to Shirley, I knew that her father was getting very frustrated and upset. He complained that he needed more lead time to gear up for any new requirements, and that my father and Rob were being very unreasonable forcing him to abandon his carefully crafted plan to have a sales force ready to open new vending locations.

In a way, all these changes made it look like Mr. Jones was moving too slow. I knew this wasn't fair to him though. I'd even spoken to him several times about what was involved in the hiring and training process. It was a lot more complicated than I had first thought. One of the things I'd needed to remind my father of, was that Mr. Jones had reached every hiring and training objective given to him, as long as he was allowed a reasonable time to get prepared for the new quota.

I knew my father had planned on speaking to Mr. Jones, to tell him that he knew he was doing a great job, but, somehow, he hadn't gotten around to it yet. I was worried that Mr. Jones might decide that it was a no win situation for him, and possibly be unhappy enough about how things were going to make him want to quit.

I didn't want that to happen, not wanting to risk Shirley having to move away. I knew that might happen if her father quit the company, and took a new job somewhere else.

I also thought he was doing a terrific job with the hiring and training of our new sales people. If he wasn't as flexible and adaptable as my father might like him to be, that was probably because he was the one who kept having to scuttle all his old plans, the ones he'd spent a lot of time thinking about and developing, only to have to start out all over again, every time the new manpower requirements were adjusted upward.

After Virginia filled us in, I phoned my father and reminded him that he needed to do something about Mr. Jones. I also told him that I thought a company leased car for Joyce would represent a nice bonus for her. At first, he had problems with the idea of putting a new employee, filling a temporary position, in a bracket that he usually kept reserved for his department heads, or other, even higher, company employees. When I reminded him of what Joyce had discovered though, he gave me permission to see to it. He gave me the name and phone number of the man who arranged for the company auto leases.

"Kenny, what kind of car does Ron drive, do you know?"

"Not really. I know it's a dark four door that looks fairly new though. Maybe a Buick?"

"Do you think he would like a company car too?"

"I don't know. Why not call him and find out what he'd like as a reward for a job well done? It never hurts to ask directly, and I'm sure it would make him feel good to know you recognize all the effort he's given, and the results he's achieved. Having the ideas are one thing, being the one responsible for getting the idea turned into reality, that can be a lot more difficult. This is especially true when people keep changing things on you."

"I'll call him today. I'll invite him out to lunch and we'll talk. I was already planning on giving him a nice raise. You're right though, because I've noticed a certain tension whenever I'm on the phone with him lately. Rob noticed it too, and made a comment about it. Do you really think he feels under-appreciated?"

"I don't think he's used to being pushed so hard, or to be given new goals every other week or so. It might be better if you tell him to just hire and train as many as he can, until you tell him to slow it down. You might also think about giving him some people to assist him. Shirley told me that he's been working late every night, and that her mom doesn't like it. He's already producing about three times the number of sales people that you told him he'd need to produce when you first hired him. Why not let him hire two or three people to help him, and tell him to cut back on his work schedule?"

"How about a nice raise, a company lease car and one new assistant? I'm not sure hiring a whole raft of new people is the answer for Ron's problem."

"No, but cutting back on his hours would help with Mrs. Jones, and you know he'd be likely to work better if his wife is happy at home. It is better to hire one too many than one too few when we're into such a large expansion. You said yourself that we were thinking too small about this vending business."

"All right, I'm convinced. How are you going to make your approach to the railroad?"

"Joyce is on another line right now, getting an appointment with the woman she spoke with yesterday. We're going to be borrowing Virginia's car, and driving over as soon as Joyce sets something up."

"Remember, you can't sign anything that obligates the company. This is simply a fact finding trip to get them to present us with a written proposal that spells out all the terms of the offered contract. You can ask them for enhancements, but don't commit to anything on your own."

"I think I knew that already, Dad. We're going to see what they offer us, and then try to explore anything else that they have as far as shipping programs that might pertain to us. Whatever they give us, we bring it back to you. Suppose they don't have anything ready for us today, do we stay here until they do?"

"Play it by ear for right now, Kenny. I'll be in my office here all day. Call me as soon as you know something, and we'll decide what to do then."

Joyce got us an appointment with Mildred Taylor, the personal assistant to Floyd Rollins, who was the sales director for the Omaha office of the railroad. Mr. Rollins was also in charge of "National Accounts" for the Omaha based railroad line. One problem Joyce had faced was the fact that Mr. Rollins was out of town for the next few days, and would be unable to meet with us. When she told me we had an appointment with Mr. Rollins secretary, I was a little bit disappointed.

Mildred Taylor was a large woman, in her early fifties, She had dark hair that was riddled through with gray, a pleasant, open face, and eyes that seemed to bore right through you. After a minute or two spent in her company, you sensed you were in the presence of a powerful woman. She was only of medium height, about five foot four or so, but, because she was so large, she looked taller. Her father had worked for the railroad she told us, and she was carrying on the family tradition. When we got there, she ushered us into a nice, wood paneled office, and the name plate on the door was her own. One look at her office, and my first thought was to wonder what kind of secretary had or deserved these trappings and appointments. None had them in our company, that was for sure.

"Joyce, you are just like I pictured you. Who's this young man with you?" Mrs. Taylor was giving me a frank appraisal and the once over with her eyes. I found that a little bit intimidating.

"This is Mr. Parsons, my boss." I could see that Joyce was blushing a little, taken aback by the way Mildred Taylor was assuming control of the meeting. I jumped right in to try to make it easier for Joyce.

"Kenny Parsons, Ms. Taylor, I'm pleased to meet you." I put my hand out to shake hands with her. She didn't hesitate in taking my hand and giving it a few strong pumps. Then she walked over and shook with Joyce too.

"Your boss? Really?" She turned to me, an amused glint in her eye. "Are you really her boss?" From the way she said it, I concluded she thought I was too young to be anyone's boss.

"No, not really. We work together, but she really works for my Dad. He runs our company. He sent me along to make sure Joyce had whatever she needed to get the information my Dad wanted."

"I see. You came just for some information then? You didn't come here to sign a shipping contract with us?" I still felt like she was testing me. I wondered whether she had already done some research on our company. Maybe she already knew a lot more about us than we knew about her.

"We fully expect to sign a contract with you very soon. Of course, after everything is prepared and negotiated, we'll have to take it back to my father to get it signed and approved." I wanted to sound like I was serious, that we weren't there to waste any of her time.

"How many rail cars will you be needing from us, Joyce?" I knew it was deliberate on her part, deciding to direct her inquiries at Joyce. Still, for all of that, I was happy that she had decided that we were legitimate enough for her to spend some more of her time with.

"I think from a minimum of one hundred cars, to as much as six hundred. I was told to get a sliding scale rate based on how many rail cars we end up needing. What rate would we be paying if we ended up using four hundred this year?" I sat there, just listening to the two of them talking. I was enjoying the interplay, as each made a statement before ending with a question,

"As I told you yesterday, having a shipping contract for one hundred or more cars in that contract year, entitles you to a discount off of our single car rates. Currently, that discount is forty-five per cent, but it is always subject to review and change. Anything greater than one hundred cars, we'd need to negotiate with you. Four hundred cars, we'd be willing to discount an additional five per cent off of our single car rate. Would you be willing to commit to using four hundred cars?"

"We're very interested in securing the storage capability that using rail would make available to us. The better the rate to us, the more we'd be willing to divert from our normal trucking contracts. The closer we get to price parity with trucking rates, the more inclined we'd be to ship by rail. If we did commit to four hundred cars during the first year of this contract, can you guarantee the discount rate you just quoted for the entire year, and would this also mean that we'd have storage options on up to one hundred rail cars?"

"If we signed a contract for four hundred, we'd guarantee our rates for the first year. Yes, you'd have access to one hundred cars, but only if they were going to be shipped out within thirty days of loading and storage with us. We don't care that much about cars sitting at your siding, but, once we have them back in our yard, we want to be sure they are leaving as part of a shipment. Thirty days is our hard and fast limit. Is it true that you're taking Lucas Company national, and that you're expanding to six times your current production?"

I jumped in then. I knew my father wouldn't want us discussing company expansion plans with Mrs. Taylor.

"We're in a growth phase right now, trying to integrate our four companies together. No fixed goals have been arrived at. Our stock isn't currently being publicly traded."

"Are you planning on floating an IPO?"

"I don't know. My Dad hasn't said anything about it. As far as I know, we don't need new capital."

"This is my railroad, Mr. Parsons, and I make most of the contract decisions here. Floyd Rollins is my husband, but it's my railroad. We'd like to have a lot more of your shipping business, and you'll find we'll be more than willing to work with you to make your new roll out a success. Tell me what you need, and I'll tell you if we can do it."

I wasn't really that surprised, not after meeting her, observing and talking with her for the last fifteen minutes. She had an attitude that screamed out that she was a strong, high powered, executive. She had been comfortable taking charge of our meeting. I remembered what my father had told me about listening and not committing to anything. He had been serious when he said it, and I knew this had been another test for me. The deal being offered was so good, I knew my father would approve it without asking for a single change.

"My father will sign your contract as soon as we bring it to him. I don't think he'll ask for anything more than you're already offering. How much further are you prepared to go to get this contract signed?" She laughed when I asked her that. Not a genteel, ladylike, laugh. This was a vibrant and robust laugh, one that started in the stomach and exploded through the mouth. It was as loud as a barking seal, and just as spontaneous and unrestrained.

"We'll work with you on bringing partially loaded cars up from our yard to your siding, and then back to our yard, as long as you keep it within reasonable limits. We'll route you priority, at no extra charge, on some shipments where time has become a critical issue for you. If you get up to that six hundred cars you spoke of as your upper limit, we'll rebate an additional two percent on every car load you've shipped through us for the first years contract. You also have my word that I'll work with you on any succeeding contracts. Right now, I can really use any additional business I can generate. I don't forget the good things I've gotten like some carriers would. You can also use our clerks, on site here, to coordinate and process your national rail shipping needs. We'll keep track of everything you've got moving, on any track in America. How's that?"

It was my turn to break out in a big smile. I turned to Joyce. "How does that sound to you, Joyce?"

Joyce looked at both of us. It was plain that she was very happy that things were going so well. Already, what we'd been told exceeded what we had hoped for.

"When can you get the contract ready for us to take back?" Joyce had turned her attention back to Mrs. Taylor when she asked that.

"We have a boiler plate all ready. All we need to do is fill in the blank spaces. I can have it ready for you sometime tomorrow morning. I could have it finished and express it over to the head office in Bolling tomorrow too. You would get it before close of business.

"Can I phone my father and ask him which he'd prefer?" I wanted to call my father anyway. I knew he'd be anxious to hear from me. These were the fun parts for him, making the deals that made it easier for him to do what he wanted to do anyway. I called my father and outlined the whole deal to him, from my memory. He asked me about fifteen questions, trying to clarify everything in his mind. I also told him that Mrs. Taylor wasn't really a secretary, she was the one who made all the decisions. "Dad, should we stay here and wait for the contract to be ready, or should we come home this afternoon and let her express it to us?"

"Virginia has a situation she needs some help with. You might want to speak with her about it, and see if you can be of any help to her. You'd need to stay up in Omaha if you were going to try to help her with it." My father laughed when I told him we'd talk to Virginia. "Don't forget to bring that contract with you when you come home tomorrow, Kenny. Tell Mrs. Taylor that I'll sign it and express it back to her as soon as I get a chance to read it over. Tell her I look forward to doing a lot of business with her."

I told Mrs. Taylor what my father had told me to tell her, and Joyce and I left. She promised to have the contract ready for us to pick up anytime after eleven the next morning. Riding back to the Lucas Company, I'm not sure who was more excited, Joyce or me. When we got back, we went straight to Virginia and asked her what the problem was that she needed our help with.

"It isn't really a problem, Kenny. Dad is out of town again, and I'm supposed to be taking care of his house for him, feeding his dogs, and making sure that everything is all right over there. It only takes fifteen minutes to do that, but it's a forty minute drive over to his place, each way. There was something I really wanted to do tonight, and I was just telling your dad that I couldn't do it because I didn't have anyone else to take care of the dogs for me. He sort of hinted that you'd volunteer to do it for me if I asked you to. I know it's an imposition for me to even ask you, but it would really help me out if you would do it. You could use Dad's truck, and Bruno and Gehrig both know you already, so they wouldn't get too excited if you opened up the front door and looked after them." I could see that whatever she needed to do was important to her. She would have never asked if it hadn't been. I was a little surprised that she didn't tell me what it was she wanted to do, but, I knew I shouldn't ask her about it.

"Sure, no problem. Joyce and I were staying over tonight anyway, to pick up a shipping contract tomorrow morning. Can you call over to the Hilton, and tell them Joyce and I will be spending the night there tonight? We'll be needing two rooms."

Virginia surprised me with a hug, thanking me for doing the favor for her. She told me that she'd prepare a map for me, then showed me which key from her dad's car key ring opened his front door. I told her we'd take her dad's truck to the hotel for the night, and bring it back in the morning. She told me she'd call the Hilton and reserve the rooms.

Joyce and I left, taking her father's truck, looking for a good place to have some lunch. I told Joyce when we were leaving, that I'd give her a grand tour of the baking factory, and then take her over to the new warehouse, so that she could better picture it in the future.

We both had steak for lunch, with French fries and fresh bread to dip in the sauce that they heaped on our plates. At lunch, I spoke with Joyce for the first time about my idea to have her stay on as my Dad's intern after I left to go back to school. I could tell that my idea had caught her completely unprepared. When I told her how good I thought she was at doing the job, I could tell that she really appreciated the praise. I got the feeling, that Joyce hadn't been exposed to very much approval or praise while growing up.

She definitely didn't have too high an opinion of herself. I found that strange, because, she was a highly competent little dynamo. I couldn't imagine how so many of the great qualities I'd seen in her had managed to escape the notice of her parents, teachers, or friends.

What I didn't know, not until a short time later, was that Joyce had tried to hide herself as much as she could manage, all during her teen years, up until right before she dropped out of school. She didn't want to be noticed, and she was so good at hiding, for the most part she was simply ignored, and remained unnoticed, blending into the background.

At first, I thought it was because of her height and appearance, but it turned out to be something far more sinister than that. After our lunch, I decided to go directly to the new warehouse instead of back to the Lucas Company complex. We had been discussing how the rail cars would be loaded, and I wanted to show her how it was being done. When we got there, I gave her a guided tour of the facility, then found out that Virginia had been totally right when she stated that the three rail cars were already being used for storage. I was surprised to see so many new vending machines being stored in the back section of the warehouse. Cliff, one of the vending mechanics, told me there were over three hundred machines waiting to be placed with new accounts. I showed Joyce one of the new machines, having Cliff demonstrate the interior, and how the machine worked.

At a little before two o'clock, we drove over to the Lucas plant. Inside, I gave her the quick tour of the bakery floor. I explained, as we moved along from place to place, how everything worked and needed to be coordinated. We started with the mixing of ingredients, ending up in the packaging and wrapping areas. I pointed out the loading area, telling her how the product was made ready for shipment out to the vending accounts. She asked questions whenever something occurred to her and she wanted more information. It was almost five thirty by the time we finished up with the tour.

We needed to refer to the map that Virginia had drawn for us several times. Once, we turned on the wrong road, and then had to double back once we discovered our mistake. It was six forty-five before we got to Rob Lucas's house. This was the house Rob had lived in since he was a very young boy. It was old, and part of a farm that he had worked on as a boy. We drove up a long dirt path to the house that was set way back from the road. Before we even got to the house, I could hear both Gehrig and Bruno barking happily and loudly. They must have recognized the sound of Rob's truck engine.

When I opened the door, both of them ran out past us, circling Rob's truck, looking for their owner. I let them stay outside, going into the kitchen and preparing their food and water bowls. Virginia had give me precise instructions on how to prepare their food for them. I had to warm up a jar of gravy from the fridge, then pour it over the dry nuggets of dog food. Once it had cooled off somewhat, I set the bowls down and changed both water bowls with new, fresh, clean, water.

I remember thinking that the dog food and gravy smelled pretty good. That's when I decided it was time for Joyce and I to eat again. I checked to make sure that nothing was obstructing the back dog entry door, then Joyce and I went outside again. Bruno came right over to me, his long tail wagging, but Gehrig stayed over close by Rob's truck, still not understanding what had happened to his master.

Five minutes later, after I spent some time petting Bruno, Joyce and I got inside the truck and headed back in the direction we'd come from. Both dogs followed the truck until we reached the paved road, then they turned back and loped towards their home. Those were nice dogs. I remember wishing I had a dog of my own, then I thought about how I would need to be there if I had a dog of my own. It wouldn't be fair to stick Gerta and Hans with the responsibility of caring for my dog. If they wanted a dog, I was sure they would have gotten one.

We went out for Chinese food, stopping at a small restaurant in a strip center on the main road heading back to Omaha. The food was good, if a little too spicy for my taste. Joyce insisted we be adventurous, and order the spiciest foods on the menu. I knew I'd gone too far when my nose started running. It didn't seem to bother Joyce though. For someone so small, she could sure put away a lot of food. We got turned around two more times before finally finding the Hilton. Joyce had brought a small back pack with a couple changes of clothes, at my suggestion. I had brought a duffel bag with my toiletries and a complete change of clothing, but had forgotten it on the plane that morning. I knew I'd at least have a tooth brush and tooth paste in my room, and a disposable razor as well.

This next part is where it started getting strange for me. I had specifically told Virginia that we needed two rooms. I might have further clarified my meaning for her if I'd told her two separate rooms. Instead of that, we had a suite of rooms that had two separate bedrooms. At the front desk, the man gave me two room keys, but they were both for the same room. I didn't really think too much about it, hoping that it was two independent rooms. It wasn't.

As soon as I knew for certain that it was a suite instead of two rooms, I called down to the front desk, but they told me the company still had several suites at the hotel for visiting salespeople and company guests, and what I had was what had been reserved for us. When I got off the phone, Joyce was staring at me nervously. I think her first reaction was that I'd deliberately set the whole thing up like that. Her second reaction was to send me a smile, and pretend like this was exactly what she had expected. I checked out the two bedrooms and assigned her the bigger room. It was about nine o'clock, and I had been up since five that morning. I told Joyce good night, telling her that I was tired and turning in. I went in my bedroom, shutting and locking my door. I undressed and went to bed immediately.

I woke up at around six the next morning, cleaned up and dressed in the same clothes as the day before. When I was cleaned and dressed, I went out into the living room and turned on the television. I kept the volume turned down low, and watched TV until Joyce came out of her room at five before eight. She was dressed in a whole new outfit, but she didn't make any comment about my wearing the same things as the previous day. We drove over to the Lucas Company, without stopping off anywhere for breakfast. When we got there, I took Joyce for another tour of the baking room floor, and she and I snagged several packages of vending products each. She liked the little chocolate dough nuts best, and I preferred the jelly rolls and the cream filled Twinkie type packs. By the time we got up to the executive offices, the two of us had eaten our fill.

At ten o'clock, I had Joyce call the railroad to see if the contract was ready for pick up. Mrs. Taylor told her it would be finished by the time we could drive over for it.

Virginia drove us over, then took us out to the airport. When we got there, Dick was again pre-flighting the plane. We were wheels up before eleven thirty, and got over to the office in Bolling a little after one.

Joyce and I dropped the shipping contract off with my father, at his office, answered a few of his questions, then left to go to our own offices. I gave Joyce the name and phone number of our company leasing guy, telling her to order up any domestic car that she wanted as a lease car for herself. She spent the next ten minutes asking my opinion about what she should get. In the end, she opted for a blue Lincoln Continental Town Car. I think it was about the biggest car, outside of a limo, that I'd ever seen. It took her a week to get the color and interior that she had specified. The lease guy had to travel over to Ohio to pick it up off of a car dealer's lot.

It was a very pretty car, and I never tired of watching Joyce pull up in it and park. When she got out, rising up to her full height, of four feet nine or so, the disparity between her size, and the Lincoln's, never failed in bringing a wide smile to my face.

When I got home at around six o'clock Wednesday night, Shirley was waiting for me. She was as angry as I'd ever seen her, and she started right in asking me how I'd enjoyed my little tryst with her replacement. Ellen had called her, she said, filling her in on the whole thing. She was crying and angry, both at the same time. This represented a near lethal combination for me. I started feeling guilty and responsible, even though I hadn't done anything wrong to feel guilty about.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was rehearsing the speech I was going to make when I fired both Ellen and Edith. I had sworn before that I wasn't going to tolerate any more of this kind of fighting with Shirley. Done like this, so soon after our lunch and candid conversation, I knew this had been a deliberate attack by Ellen. I hoped she would enjoy being unemployed as much as she enjoyed causing me this trouble.

"Ellen said you bought this Joyce a new car too."

"We're leasing a company car for her. She did something that will really help the company, and this is meant to be a reward for her doing that."

"Are you going to admit that you slept with her?"

"No, because I didn't. I've never even touched her. I can't explain why it is that Ellen is trying to make this sound like some kind of an affair Joyce and I are having, but nothing happened between us. You either have to believe the poison that Ellen is feeding you, or believe what I'm saying. I never did anything even remotely out of line with Joyce. I've never lied to you, Shirley, but I'm starting to get real angry that you always want to believe the worst of me. I will take you to work with me tomorrow if you want, and you can talk to Joyce and my father all you want to. This is the last time I'll put up with something like this though. I think I should get the benefit of the doubt a lot more than you seem to want to give it to me."

Instead of staying there and talking to me, Shirley turned around and walked away. I might have accepted a lot of other actions on her part. She could have stayed and asked me a hundred questions. I'd have been angry, but I'd have answered all of them, as honestly as I could. Her closing off communication like she did, it reminded me too much of Brenda, and the way she treated me when she was mad. I turned back to the house and walked inside. I was greeted by Mama and Gerta. Hans had gone somewhere on an errand for Gerta, and Dad wasn't home yet. I spoke with Mama and Gerta for a few minutes and then excused myself to go up and shower and change into other clothes before dinner.

I can't even begin to explain the feelings that were coming from inside me over this turn of events. I was more angry with Shirley than I was with Ellen. Ellen wouldn't have been so successful in poisoning Shirley's mind against me, not if Shirley hadn't been so willing to listen and believe the worst. This wasn't the only time this had happened. It was a regularly occurring thing with us, almost from the beginning when Shirley had listened to Denise Malcolmb when she bad mouthed me. The time I got kicked in the head by Richard, she listened to what Brenda told her. It just seemed like she wanted to believe any bad thing that people told her about me, and she seldom allowed me to explain my side of things. I had had just about enough of that. You hate it when it happens from a stranger, but when it comes from someone that you love with all your heart, it is like a knife being twisted in your heart.

It isn't like I hadn't explained to her a hundred times about how her doubts hurt me. She had to understand, and her continuing to respond like she did, was a real slap in the face to me. Instead of going off on the deep end, falling into my customary emotional pit, I tried to think rational thoughts.

I finally decided that I couldn't fire Edith. Ellen was right, Edith hadn't done anything bad to me. Ellen was gone though. I'd speak to my father about it after dinner, explain why I felt like she needed to be fired. I was sure he'd agree, and go along with my decision. I'd tell her myself. No, I decided that I'd have my father give her the news instead. When she heard it from him, she'd know that there was no appeal open for her.

The order phones would certainly be suffering from Ellen's firing. We'd probably need to hire two, or, possibly, even three girls to replace her. It didn't matter though. She had been warned, and she had decided to continue with her attacks against me in spite of that warning. I had the whole thing worked out perfectly in my head. I felt ready to finish this whole situation, end it once and for all.

I was sitting at dinner, listening to Mama discussing the very first hole in one made at the golf learning center. A sixteen year old girl had hit a perfect seven iron on the hundred fifty three yard par three sixth hole. Any hole in one is exciting, but the first one on a golf course is special. Mama said it was the girl's first ever ace too.

When Mama finished speaking, Dad dropped his bombshell on us. "Ron Jones gave his notice this afternoon. I spent an hour on the phone with him, trying to get him to change his mind. This will really set us back as far as getting someone trained to head up recruiting for us. Kenny, didn't Shirley give you any hints that something like this was coming? Ron's already got a new job in South Carolina, at a large carpet mill there."

It only took a few seconds for me to understand the impact of what he was saying. Shirley would be leaving too. I almost made it to the stairs before I threw up my dinner. I was crying, and looking for a towel or something to clean up the mess I'd made, but Gerta came out from the kitchen and shooed me away from there. I wound up in my bedroom, but I still don't remember how I got there. I have no memory of climbing those stairs. I cleaned out my mouth, brushing my teeth twice, before picking up the phone and dialing Shirley's number. I let her phone ring twenty times at least, but she never answered it. I called her early the next morning with the same result.

When I told my father that I was going to take some time off work, he told me to take all the time I needed. He spent the remainder of the week trying to find someone who could replace Mr. Jones. After trying to call Shirley many times with no success, I finally drove over to her house. Mrs. Jones didn't let me in, but she came out to speak with me herself. What she basically told me was that Mr. Jones had been unhappy with the way his job targets were constantly being changed. He had announced to the family his intention to locate some work back in the carpet industry, more than a month before.

"Shirley has tried to deal with the situation as well as she could, Kenny. She loves you, but, even when things were at their best, she knew that the two of you were never destined to be together for the long term. She never quite got up the courage to be able to discuss that with you. She doesn't want you to hate her, but she was too overwhelmed by the situation to be completely candid with you. Rather than confront you with the truth, she has just decided to withdraw from you. I know this makes it even harder for you, not getting any chance to discuss your feelings with her, but she just isn't ready to face you now, or to tell you goodbye."

We stayed there, in front of her door, talking about Shirley, for at least another half hour. On some levels, I was able to understand exactly what she was saying to me. What I was having the most trouble with, was understanding that Shirley had decided to never see or speak with me again. I didn't know how something like that could be possible. It was easier for me to contemplate stopping breathing than for me to consider never seeing, touching, or speaking to my Shirley again. I finally gave up and left her house. I stayed in my room for the next two days, nursing the emotional numbness that had mercifully set in. I still felt a physical ache, but, emotionally, I felt numb. It was like I'd just decided to stop caring about things again.

Monday morning, I got up and showered, shaved and generally got myself cleaned up. I decide to go over to Shirley's house one more time. I told myself that I just wanted to make sure she hadn't changed her mind. I wanted to make sure she knew that I hadn't stopped loving her. I was angry with her, but not to the point where I couldn't forgive her. No one came to the door when I pushed the door bell or when I knocked. After waiting half an hour, just to be sure, I got back inside my car and drove over to Uncle Bunny's house. I knew he wasn't at home, but I thought I'd feel better if I were close to where he had died. Maybe he could read my thoughts, and would know how to lessen the deep pain I was now beginning to feel.

I had gotten past the denial of what had happened. It was now a stark reality for me. I knew I needed to summon the strength to not let this overwhelm me again. I just didn't know what I could do to find that strength. I thought it was in me somewhere, but I didn't even have a single clue about how to find it and bring it out to help preserve me from my own dark thoughts.

That night, at dinner, I spoke with my father about Ellen, describing all that had taken place, including my warning to her the last time I took her out to lunch, and how I had threatened her with getting fired. Dad listened to everything I said, then he told me that I wasn't to fire Ellen, or to threaten her with being fired.

"But, look what she's done."

"Kenny, you need to separate your personal life from business. There are many employees that I personally dislike, but I don't fire them. If they fail to perform their duties, or if I catch them stealing, I might fire them then. Ellen is performing extraordinarily well. You told me this yourself. Nothing you've told me even suggests that she isn't still performing well. You may avoid her if you choose to. I have absolutely no problem with your doing that. From what I've been led to understand, from your mother, Shirley's problems with you had nothing to do with anything Ellen might have said to her. She was attempting to disengage from you, but you wouldn't allow her to. A girl has a right to change her mind, Kenny, as painful as that might be for you. She's just sixteen years old, and she realized that you weren't the perfect one for her. Bertie, what was it you told me?"

"The perfect fit. That's what Connie told me anyway. She loves you, Kenny, but you weren't a perfect fit for her." Mama had reached out with a hand, and covered mine with it when she said this. "There will be lots of other girls for you. Shirley is a very nice girl, and I was very fond of her, but I sensed, from the very beginning, that it was going to turn out awkwardly for everyone eventually. The two of you weren't compatible in the personal energy sense. She never had enough drive, Kenny, and you need someone with as much drive as you have."

I looked at both my parents. They were both speaking English, but their words weren't making much sense to me. This was Shirley, my Shirley, and they were speaking about her as if they understood her better than I did. Then it hit me, that I was the only one that seemed very surprised by what was happening between Shirley and me. I still didn't believe what any of them were telling me, choosing instead, to believe what I so wanted and needed to believe. I was about to ask to be excused from the table when Mama decided it was time for her to break some more news.

"Connie and Shirley left today, for South Carolina, to look for a house to rent, until they can find something that they want to buy." She was looking right at me when she said this. I could see the fear and worry reflected in her face. I could have screamed from the pain I felt. I had been stabbed, my whole future had been taken away by that one simple statement Mama had just finished making.

Shirley was gone. It was true, I knew Mama wouldn't say it if it weren't true. Events had been set in motion that might mean I'd never see my beloved again. I didn't have the strength to stand up and walk away from the dinner table. I sat there, waiting for the next piece of terrible news, the whole time trying to gather enough energy to get up and leave. Given my choice, I wanted desperately to avoid hearing anything more. My mind and body were already under an attack that I knew I wasn't strong enough to defeat. I was simply going to have to learn how to endure. I remembered I once had the knack for enduring. I'd endured worse things than the loss of a loved one. I'd even been abandoned before. Somehow, remembering that didn't comfort me at all.

"Dad won't let me fire Ellen. She's the one who caused all this trouble for me."

"Kenny, you shouldn't pursue that line of thinking. You can't place the blame for this on that unfortunate girl. You can stop being friendly with her, and stop giving her preferential treatment. Firing her would injure the company more than it would hurt her."

I realized that I was alone in feeling the way I did. No one else seemed to feel like I did, or to look at things the same way I looked at them. I wasn't sure if that automatically made me wrong, but it did mean that I wouldn't be able to give free rein to venting the anger that I was feeling.

All right, I'd channel that anger in a more positive way. My life wasn't over, and I could still accomplish a lot even if I'd lost the one person I'd most treasured. I'd put Shirley in the same place I'd reserved for Uncle Bunny. I wouldn't forget her, but I'd continue on with my life.

Perhaps, when enough time had gone by, I'd find it within myself to forgive her for what she was putting me through. Then, on the other hand, probably not.

I could see why my father placed so much of his faith in business, and tried to keep himself from caring about other people. Business was something that returned whatever you spent on nurturing it. Profits were far easier to produce than true love.



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Chapter 11

I didn't return to work for the rest of the week, moping around the house most of the time, feeling sorry for myself. I did drive over to the country club to hit some practice balls, but being there just reminded me of Shirley. I was functioning though, just barely, but functioning.

It was sometime over the weekend when I decided that I'd had enough of acting like a lovesick puppy with a broken heart. Shirley had made her choice. My Dad was right about her having the right to change her mind. I had to accept things as they were, not how I wished they were. I knew that all the pain wasn't just going to disappear, but I still needed to live my life. I wasn't going to lay down and play dead anymore.

I had been writing things to myself, ever since I found out that Shirley had left the state. It wasn't a diary, or anything like that. It was more my thoughts on what I wanted to do, and things I felt I needed to accomplish. A lot of it was about my business ambitions. I was hoping to take over running the company sometime in the far future, and I wanted to make sure that I learned all the skills necessary for me to be a successful executive. I also wanted to make a difference in the lives of the boys from St. Cecelia's. I was determined that no other kid would spend as much time living at that orphanage as I had.

I wrote a lot about my thoughts about girls. I knew I needed to change the way I handled my relationships and the sex I'd be participating in. I was a little bitter with the things I wrote at first, probably because I was feeling very sorry for myself. This changed though when I started remembering all of the pleasure I'd gotten from my encounters with the opposite sex. From Bea to Shirley, I'd spent countless hours in conversation, and in the many different stages of romantic activity, ranging from innocent flirtation, to kisses and soft touches, frequently culminating with our taking our frenzied sexual pleasures together.

I was focused on the fact that none of my sexual relationships had lasted, or, had ultimately proved successful. With the exception of Bea, I was no longer speaking with, or enjoying any social contact with any of my former love interests. Brenda, Emily and Shirley were now out of my life completely. I was almost seventeen years old, and I still hadn't learned how to sustain a romantic relationship for any real length of time without fighting or breaking up with the girl I was seeing.

I had been Sure that Shirley was the one for me. We had endured fights, but, we got along for a lot longer than any of the other girls. Shirley had been all I wanted. In a way, realizing that, I felt a little bit better. I had been satisfied with Shirley, it was her that hadn't been satisfied with me. I was curious about what she saw that convinced her we weren't ever going to be a perfect fit. To me, there were times when I'd found myself totally and perfectly content with just being near her. I remembered the peace that surrounded me when I was with her.

I decided that I needed to study relationships. I knew there were books about almost every conceivable topic. There had to be some that dealt with how to enjoy successful romantic relationships. I'd get some and study them until I developed a winning formula for keeping a relationship going.

-------

I went back to work on Monday. At breakfast, both my parents treated my going to work again as if it was nothing worthy of special notice or comment. I was a little anxious about going back. First, there was the matter of my father's instructions about not firing Ellen. I wasn't sure how I'd react the next time I saw her.

There was another problem that worried me, and that was the fact that I sometimes became maudlin when thinking about losing Shirley. When that happened, I often started crying. It had gotten to be a less frequent event, but it had happened to me that morning while I was in the shower. It was only a small shedding of tears, softly, and with a quiet sadness. This was a great improvement over what I had been doing. I had wept torrential tears of despair in the very beginning. I was past that point, but it would still have been upsetting to me if I were to break down in front of any of my co-workers.

I was counting on being able to maintain some self control, in the event my thoughts turned to Shirley while at work. I thought the escape back into my work would prove a distraction, helping me to reduce the time I was spending thinking about my lost love.

Of course, I hadn't known that Ellen had gone to great pains to let everyone know that my girlfriend had dumped me. Monday morning, I could see that everyone I came into contact with was going out of their way to treat me like someone who was fragile and delicate. I hated it. I didn't know about Ellen blabbing all of my personal business then, but, after I found out it was her, I understood why people had been treating me so gingerly.

It was Cee Cee Waters who sat me down and didn't pull any punches in the way she treated me.

"Boy, why are you mooning around over some little girl? She's gone, but there's lots more that can take her place. With those tall, dark, and handsome good looks that you got, and all your Daddy's money, you can get all the poonie you could ever want or need. What makes that girl so special?" I was surprised at the way she talked to me.

"I really loved her, Cee Cee."

"And you'll love fifty more, at the very least, before you're done. That's how the game is played, and you're a player if I don't miss my guess. You can't be taking all these girl's comings and goings to heart, boy, that shit will just eat you up from the inside, if you let it. Make it good when you're with them, and then walk away with a smile when it's all over. It isn't natural for these love things to last forever."

I had never heard that kind of advice from an adult before. I might have expected it, maybe, coming from Bea, or even from Uncle Bunny, a little bit, but not to have it put like that. I didn't believe she was right about what she was telling me though.

I didn't want to spend a lifetime running through fifty or more short term relationships. I wanted forty or fifty years with the same someone, a whole lifetime shared together. I tried to smile for her, and I did manage to shake my head like I'd be thinking about what she told me, but I knew what she was suggesting wouldn't be enough for me.

One of the worst things about coming back to work, was the way Joyce was now treating me. If anything, she seemed even sadder for me than I was for myself. I could tell that she wanted to cheer me up, and I could also tell that she didn't have the slightest idea about how she could manage to do that. I stayed at my desk for the rest of the morning, working on the latest three weeks of sales and delivery numbers.

There had been a marked increase in both sales and deliveries, and the efficiency rate for our deliveries was also increasing due to their being far fewer loading errors. Cee Cee's loading manifests, and her having all of the drivers take a few minutes to check things quickly, before they left the loading area, had combined to prevent any more large delivery problems for us. I knew my Dad would be happy with the report I was going to prepare for him.

At noon, Joyce came into my office and laid a small, neatly typed, report in front of me. On her own, she had come up with a vast improvement of the system currently in use to transfer the finished vending products from the Lucas bakery to our warehouse inventory for later shipment. Instead of loading it onto trucks and trucking it over to the warehouse for off loading and storage, Joyce had found a way for us to eliminate all the off loading and storage steps at the warehouse. Joyce had coordinated her idea with Mildred Taylor, and received all necessary approvals for loading rail cars right in the rail yard.

Now, our trucks could drive straight to the yard at the railroad and load the product directly onto the rail cars. It was a shorter distance to drive for them, and, once loaded on the rail car, they wouldn't need to be off loaded again. One of the best parts of Joyce's report was that she had broken down the standard product mixes for shipments to our current distribution warehouses. The products being ordered were usually pretty standardized. It looked to me like her idea had a lot of merit to it.

"This is fine work, Joyce. I'll be finished with a report I'm making to my Dad an hour after we get back from lunch. We'll take both reports to him then. He's going to love your idea, and the way you were so thorough in appending the usual makeup of the shipments to the distribution centers. We're going to lunch in your new car, and I'll even let you pick the place we eat at."

"I brought my lunch, Mr. Parsons." I could see that Joyce was getting a little flustered again. I thought it was probably because of my praise for her idea, and the enthusiasm I had shown for her actual report.

"What's the matter? Don't you want to show off your new car? I've never been in a new Lincoln. I want to compare the ride of your Lincoln with my Cadillac's smooth ride."

"I have things I need to do today, and I was going to take care of them during my lunch break." Joyce had dropped her head while she spoke to me, and I could barely make out what she was saying to me, because she spoke so softly. It finally occurred to me that she didn't want to go out to lunch with me, and that it had more to do with me than with going out to lunch.

"That's okay, Joyce. Another time, perhaps? I'd still like to take a look at that Lincoln when you have a chance though." I was a little bit hurt by her not wanting to go out to eat with me. With all that was going on in my life right then, I guess I was looking for someone to hang around with. Someone I knew I had no romantic designs toward. Joyce looked up at me and then turned and walked back to her office, sitting behind her desk.

I got up and left my office, making my way down to the maintenance department. All four of the maintenance guys were sitting around having their lunch. I looked at the name tag that Steve Lusby was wearing on his shirt. Like the others, the name stitched on his shirt was John. Earl was the first to see and greet me.

"Hey, kid. I'm surprised to see you here. Word is out that you had some serious problems dealing with breaking up with your girlfriend."

"Where does everyone hear all this stuff? It seems like everyone here knows all about my personal business."

"I heard it from Edith's kid last week. She was telling a bunch of us about how your girlfriend dumped you and moved to Virginia or someplace."

"South Carolina."

"Wherever. The main thing is she was telling us all about how broken up you were about it. You got a lot of friends here. Most of us feel bad that you're hurting, but you're too young to get floored by the loss of some chick. Get right back up on the horse that threw you."

"I wish Ellen would keep her damn nose out of my business."

"Edith told me that her kid really has it bad for you. Maybe she's hoping that she'll be the next one in line with you."

"I guarantee you that that will never happen. Ellen spent half her time here, on the phone with Shirley, trying to make her think I was doing stuff with other girls behind her back."

"Tie a can to her ass then."

"I wanted to, but my Dad said what she did was personal, and I can't let it affect the business. He won't let me fire her."

"No shit? I don't know about that kind of thinking. Seems like he'd be more concerned with what you want than with taking her side of things." Earl was more of a politician than the other three guys. I wasn't sure if he meant what he was telling me, or if he was trying to butter me up for something. Stewie had been quiet the whole time that Earl and I had been talking, but he decided he was going to say something.

"I heard her talking to that little girl, the one you've got assisting you now? She was really giving her the riot act about not socializing with you no more. I heard her say that she was the cause of you breaking up with your girlfriend. The little girl was crying and saying that she didn't do anything. That kid of Edith's though, she kept after her. I felt real sorry for the little kid, but, I didn't step in, or say nothing to them."

Hearing that, I got really upset. How did Ellen justify all this crap she was pulling? I might have gone along with my father's wishes if it had just been me that Ellen was attacking, but I couldn't tolerate her acting that way around Joyce. I left the maintenance area and made straight for the phone order room. I didn't want to stop and rethink what I was going to do. I'd just do what I needed to do, and then I'd deal with the fallout from my father. He could fire me too if he was that upset about me disobeying him. I needed to take action. One way or another, this was going to be the last time I had any contact with Ellen. I arrived at the phone room, and Ellen was sitting in the recliner again, taking a phone order with her headset on. I went over and disconnected the headset from the phone console, terminating the call.

"Ellen, get up and get your stuff. I want you out of here right now. You're fired!"

"I didn't do anything wrong. Why are you firing me?"

"For making threats to another employee, for gossiping about my personal business, for lying to me when you told me you were going to stop causing me trouble. I don't need a reason for firing you anyway. I'm firing you also because I can't stand the thought of having you anywhere around me ever again. Get up, and get out. I'll send your final check home with your mother tonight."

"I'll sue you for firing me, Kenny."

"Go ahead, sue me if you want to. I don't care. Even if I lost the suit, and I doubt that I would, it would be worth it to me to be rid of you." I turned around and left, heading up to personnel to inform them that Ellen had been terminated.

I went by my father's office, but he was out somewhere, and not expected back before three o'clock. I left a message for him with his secretary, Myra.

"Tell Dad I fired Ellen from the phone order desk today. Tell him I'll be coming down to see him after three o'clock."

"Kenny, didn't your father specifically tell you that Ellen wasn't to be fired by you?"

"Myra, I don't care what he said. Ellen needed to be fired and that's what I did. If he hires her back, then I'll quit the business instead. I won't work for any company that has her for an employee. She's been threatening my assistant, and doing whatever she could to come between me and my girlfriend. I warned her before, but, I'm firing her now because she's been telling people here at work my personal business, and because she yelled at and threatened my assistant."

At three o'clock, Joyce and I were waiting by Myra's desk for my father to return. He got back about five minutes later. I followed him into his office, with Joyce trailing right behind me, before Myra had any chance to give him his messages, or to tell him about my firing of Ellen.

"I fired Ellen this afternoon." I put both reports on his desk as I told him that. I put Joyce's report on top of mine.

"No, you didn't, Kenny. I told you that I wouldn't allow that."

"It's too late, it's done."

"Then undo it. She's too valuable to the company for us to fire her over some personal business with you."

"If you bring her back, I'll quit, Dad. I'm not talking about just for the summer either. I'll quit, and I'll sell the stock that Uncle Bunny left for me. I'll never set another foot in any of the companies."

"You can't sell the stock, Kenny. I'm the trustee and I won't allow the sale. You can't let a personal vendetta throw you so far off track that you throw away such a brilliant opportunity. This doesn't make any sense. You need better self control."

"Ellen yelled at Joyce, and then she threatened her. She also told almost everyone here at work about how upset I've been over Shirley. That goes beyond just being personal. She has a screw loose somewhere, and what she's doing indicates mental imbalance. None of that is important right now though. I shouldn't need to justify this any further to you. You need to decide whether you're going to back me, or if you're going to take Ellen's side of it, because those are the only two choices you have now."

"Why don't we let this go for now, Kenny? You take some time to cool off, and we'll speak about it again, at home, tonight. I won't take any action about Ellen until you've had a full chance to convince me that you're right about this."

"I'll quit too, Mr. Parsons. I almost did when it happened. I won't be threatened like that anymore. She scared me with some of the things she promised to do to me. She was trying to scare me enough to quit when she said them." Joyce had been behind me the whole time I was speaking with my father. I'm not even sure he saw her standing behind me like that. He seemed very surprised when she leaned out so he could see her, and she began speaking to him.

"I'm not going to say anything more to try to convince you. You already know enough, Dad. It's either her or me, because I won't work any place where she works. This has been an emotional time for me, but my decision to fire her isn't just an emotional one. We can't allow people to run around threatening people, or doing things to hurt other employees. Any company that would allow that is asking for big heaps of trouble."

"Joyce, are you sure about this plan being approved by the railroad? This would be an incredible advantage for our operation in Omaha. They will let us load there, and still store the product for thirty days?" Joyce seemed unable to cope with the abrupt shift in subject. Finally she nodded that she was sure. "That's really hard to believe. It is so clean and simple too. I would have never thought to ask for something like that."

"Do you have rail service at the vending machine factory, Mr. Parsons?"

"Yes, of course, why?"

"Mildred said we could load and store at the rail yard nearest the manufacturing plant too. If you book everything through her, those shipments count towards your four hundred car commitment too. Mildred told me that she has reciprocating storage deals with all the other rail lines. She said you can park cars almost any place where the railroads have a presence. It would be just like they were stored in her yard, the same type of insurance and access."

"Joyce, I'm sorry about your experience with Ellen. I see now that Kenny was correct. Before, it was personal behavior that Kenny objected to. What I've learned today, it takes it way beyond personal behavior. Kenny, I won't rescind the decision you reached on Ellen's firing. It will fall to you though, to find suitable replacements for her. I can't allow our phone orders to be put into disarray. See to that at once, will you?"

As we were leaving my Dad's office, I felt Joyce lightly touching my hip with her finger tips. It was only the lightest of touches, normally, it was something I wouldn't have even noticed. I did notice it though, mostly because I was trying to be careful to slow down, and let her pass in front of me through my Dad's office door. Myra had a very concerned look on her face as Joyce and I came out by her desk. When she saw that I didn't look upset anymore, she smiled at me.

"Ellen is history then?"

"So it appears. My father was worried that she'd upset Joyce. As much as he liked having Ellen on the phones, in the end, he was much more afraid of losing our tiny little genius here. My only concern now is that she'll keep coming up with great ideas, and he'll decide to pull a switch on us and make me be Joyce's assistant."

Back in my office, Joyce stood close by my desk, obviously wanting to say something, but unable to begin with whatever it was. I looked at her, waiting for her to start talking.

"I was afraid of her."

"Ellen?"

"Yes, because of what she told me. That's the only reason I didn't go out to lunch with you today. I really wanted to, but I was afraid to go."

"You should have told me. I only heard about it by accident, when I was over talking to some people in maintenance. I wondered why you didn't want to go out to lunch. I thought that maybe you were afraid of me, or that you didn't like me."

"Oh."

"Maybe something I said or did made you upset with me?"

"No. I've never been upset with you. I'm sorry about your girlfriend too, Mr. Parsons."

"Joyce, you really have to start calling me Kenny. Mr. Parsons is my father's name, and every time you call me that, I'm always looking around, expecting to see my Dad."

"That girl said it was because of me. The reason why your girlfriend left you."

"No, it was because her father quit working for us, and they're moving to South Carolina. What Ellen tried to do was to break us up, Shirley and I, but it had nothing to do with what Shirley decided. Shirley used some of it to pick fights with me, but it was really because she was moving away, and because she didn't love me the same way I loved her. She was looking for more than I had to give her. She wanted someone that was a perfect fit, someone like her own parents had found. We fit together pretty well, but not perfectly. I don't think many people are perfect for each other. I think Shirley is going to find that out someday too."

"I didn't really think it could be because of me." She looked disappointed when she said that. I knew I needed to be careful with her. I didn't want her to feel bad, but I also didn't want to lead her on, or give her any false hope either.

"Somehow, Ellen found out that we shared the same suite at the hotel."

"That is probably my fault. I checked in with the company operators, to let them know where they could reach us. I called here on Wednesday morning, and I told the operator that we were checked out of our room at the Hilton, and that we'd be at the Lucas Company until around eleven o'clock." Something about how Joyce said this was worrying me.

"That clears up one mystery then. You probably spoke with Ellen's mother, and I'm sure she'd pass something like that on to Ellen. It doesn't matter though, because that wasn't why we broke up anyway. You need to be careful how you say things around here though, because a lot of these people like to gossip. They take innocent things, and make them look bad."

"My brother, Jack, he was a phone operator in the Air Force. Would it be okay if I told him there was an opening here?"

"Is he outgoing, or is he shy like you are?"

"No, we're not anything alike. He's almost six feet tall, and he has tons of friends. He loves to talk, and he jokes around all the time."

"Call him for me, and I'll interview him over the phone. You heard my father, I've got to get the order room back working right without any delays."

I spoke with Jack on the phone. He had a good phone voice and seemed pretty sharp. I offered to give him a trial as an order clerk, quoting him a lesser salary than Ellen had made, but a little more than our customary, entry level, wage. He said he's come in with Joyce the next morning to fill out his employment paperwork, and to begin training for taking the orders.

I called Edith next, wanting to make sure I wasn't going to forced to replace her too. I was afraid she might quit because of how I'd fired her daughter.

"Edith, this is Kenny. I just wanted to check in with you, to make sure that you and I are okay now."

"Well, I know some of the things you were mad at Ellen over, but you really seemed so angry today when you fired her. That wasn't like how you normally act."

"No, it wasn't, but I'd just found out about some of the things she had said to my assistant, and that she was going around telling everyone here about my personal business."

"I knew she was telling people things, and I told her she better quit it. I didn't know about your assistant, but it doesn't surprise me. I know that Ellen has this way of acting, whenever she wants something to happen, and I know she wanted something to happen with you. I told her it didn't look like you were that interested, but she never listens to what I say. You aren't planning on firing me because of what Ellen did, are you?"

"No, I'm not, but I did threaten her with that, to try to get her to quit causing trouble for me. That didn't work though. She never quit causing me trouble. I feel bad too, because she had a nice future here with us. We really liked her way on the phones with our customers."

"I know, and I told her that too, but she knows more than me. She figured she was so good at her job that you wouldn't really fire her. Maybe, after today, she'll listen more to the things I'm trying to tell her. I'm not mad at you, Kenny. I guess you had to do it. In a way, I'm relieved that you did it before she had a chance to go even further off the deep end with this. I love that girl to pieces, but sometimes, she's her own worst enemy. Her sister was the same way too. I just hope that Ellen doesn't take it in her mind to do what her sister did."

"I hope so too, but there isn't much either of us can do to stop her, not if that's what she decides to do. I'm hoping that what happened today doesn't cause any problems between you and me, Edith."

We spoke for another few minutes, about how Edith really was going to need to get a license to drive to and from work very soon. I told her I'd have the number for her to call by the next day. I also told her that I hoped she could take care of most of it over the telephone. After I hung up with her, I phoned Frank Clooney and asked him to find someone to help Edith get her license restored enough to drive to and from work. He told me it was pretty simple to do, and only required an application form being filled out, then having it signed as approved by the judge who had lifted her license. I asked him to call the company and to ask whichever operator that answered to transfer him to Edith.

"Frank, what would a lawyer charge for handling something like this?"

"For a regular client, not much, maybe for an hour of his time if he was going to the courthouse anyway. This is very routine, unless she hurt somebody while driving drunk. It could still get done, but it would be more complicated."

"She doesn't have much money, maybe you could tell her you were doing it as a favor to me, and then just bill me for whatever you'd normally charge her?" Frank said he'd take care of it, and he did. By the next Monday, Edith was driving herself to work. She told me that Ellen had gotten another job too, setting up appointments for an insulation contractor. Edith said that Ellen was making more money than she'd ever made working for us. It was a commission job, and Ellen was proving once again how good she could be over the phone.

Over the next two weeks, things leveled out for me. I spent my days at work, and my evenings up in my room, thinking about ways to start getting older boys from St. Cecelia's adopted. I'd kept in loose touch with Frank Clooney about this idea, but he hadn't really done anything with it. I wasn't too patient. In fact, I was anxious to get something started right away.

I was sitting at my desk, mostly just doodling on a scratch pad, when I had one of my most brilliant ideas.

"Joyce, can you come into my office, please. Bring a pad to take some notes too." In a few seconds Joyce was at my desk, pad in one hand, and pencil in the other. I motioned for her to take a seat on the chair beside my desk. "Joyce, do you know anything about adoptions?"

"I know what they are. People take a child to raise as their own."

"I was an orphan before I was adopted, Joyce. I lived at St. Cecelia's, right here in Bolling, for more than eleven years."

"I didn't know that. Was it a nice place to live?"

"No, it wasn't. They tried, but it wasn't anything like living with a real family. There wasn't any love, and there wasn't any money to buy anything besides the barest of necessities. There isn't much personal freedom either. You can't do your homework and then run out to play. You grow up concentrating on all the wrong things."

"You grew up pretty well, Kenny. It couldn't have been that bad for you."

"I can't explain it to you, but I was mostly a fluke. I had some problems, emotional things, and I stumbled onto some things to help me cope. I was about the unhappiest, least lovable kid you could ever run across. No one wanted me, and I can't blame them. That's one of the reasons I'm trying to help some of the older boys at the orphanage. I want to help them get adopted like I was."

"Why did you tell me about this?"

"Because I want you to help me do it. We need to find a couple that wants to adopt a kid, but they can't for some reason. Once we locate them, we find a way to fix whatever it is that prevents them from being able to adopt. We only do this though if they agree to adopt one of the older boys at St. Cecelia's."

"How will you find these people?"

"That's going to be your job, Joyce. You need to find some way to locate people who want to adopt kids. You'll need to screen them to find some that should get kids but can't for some reason. Maybe they're too poor, or too old. Maybe one of them has done something bad in the past, like some criminal charge or something. If we decide they'd make good parents, and if they agree to take one of the older boys, we help them with putting the adoption through."

"Is that legal? I think the state has strict rules for adoption."

"Too strict. That's why those older boys are still waiting for a home. By the time they get to be ten years old or older, they start getting used to the idea of never having a home. A lot of the boys have problems, they lose hope, and either start to turn mean with the younger kids, or else they start doing things they aren't supposed to, getting even with the world for not treating them better."

"Which did you do?"

"I withdrew into a shell. I wasn't mean though, and I didn't want or need to get even. I didn't participate with the other kids any more, and I didn't let anyone get close to me. I rejected most of what the nuns kept trying to teach me, as far as how I should be acting, or what I should believe as far as God was concerned. They finally had enough of this, and they decided to kick me out. Lucky for me, that's when I was rescued, and I wound up finding my first real family. One thing that really helped me though was that I was pretty good at school, and I had always kept up with my studies. The man who rescued me had a particular type of boy in mind, and he thought I could be that boy."

"If we find people who want to adopt, and they seem like they'd be good parents, and are also willing to take one of the boys you want to help, how do we get things changed so they can adopt?"

"With lawyers and judges. We need to find people who can make things happen, things that other people might not be able to change. My Uncle was good at that, and we need to find others who are just as good and put them to work on getting our adoptions approved. That will be my job, finding those people."

"The people in charge at St. Cecelia's, will they help us?"

"Oh, no. In fact, we'll probably need to fight them every step of the way. They have their standards, and they have no interest in lowering them. They can't understand that some of their kids are willing to accept less than perfect parents. To them, the orphanage is doing God's work, and they don't see it as a bad place to be living. We'd be working to give the kid's what they want. Most of these older boys have given up already, they wouldn't want to exclude very many people from adopting them, not if they thought they would have a home, and a regular family to live with. We're going to be concerned with helping the kids, not with how that affects the orphanage. Even if we make some mistakes, and the parents we pick aren't very good, the kids would still probably be better off with them than if they were still having to stay in St. Cecelia's. I'll take you over to meet the boys, and you can ask them any questions you want to. After one visit, you'll see what I mean."

"I have something I need to tell you about before I could agree to do this, Kenny." I nodded for her to go ahead. "When I was eleven years old, I used to shoplift. I used to go into stores and steal things with this one friend of mine. We didn't really need any of the things we were stealing, we just took them. I don't know why we did it, but that's what we did for almost a whole summer. We even got caught doing it a few times, but they always let us go with just a warning, and told us not to come back to the store anymore. This one time, I was doing it by myself, and I got caught stealing in this little convenience store. They had a security camera in the store, and they took a video of my putting merchandise down inside my pants. When I walked out of the store, the owner and one of his helpers stopped me and took me into the back room. They showed me the video, and then they told me what was going to happen if they called the police."

Joyce had started crying in the early part of her confession to me. I didn't try to comfort her, or to tell her she didn't have to continue with her story. I let her get it out of her system.

"They told me they'd give me the video, and let me go, but first, I would need to do something for them. They wanted to have sex with me, both of them. After they had done what they wanted to, they let me go, but they never gave me the video like they had promised." She stopped talking then, keeping her face lowered, with her chin pressed against her upper chest. We both sat there silently for a few minutes.

I waited for her to lift her face up and look at me, but after a few minutes, I realized that she was waiting for me to say something to her.

"Joyce. I'm very sorry they did that to you, but I'm not really sure why you wanted to tell me about it. Is there something you want me to do?"

"I thought that maybe you wouldn't want me working for you, not after you found out about the kinds of things I've done. It makes me feel bad when you treat me so nice, because I know that you don't know the kind of person I really am."

I thought about what she'd just said. I had some notion now about why she always acted like she did. I couldn't really know the full impact of what she'd been through when she was eleven. I imagined it to be a truly terrible time for her. I could even see where that one experience could carry over and have a bad effect all the parts of her life. I thought that the two people who raped her were far worse than she had been. Her punishment was far worse than what could be justified for anything she might have done to get put into their clutches. She was the real victim, the shoplifting was wrong, but certainly she didn't deserve those horrific consequences as her punishment? I didn't know how to respond to her. I knew I had to say something though.

"I do know the kind of person you are. I know you made some poor decisions a long time ago, and that two men took horrible advantage of you because they had an opportunity to do so. I know what kind of people they were too, and I hate them for what they did to you. You were eleven years old, Joyce, and you made some pretty bad decisions that summer. You need to stop thinking that you're the same girl who made those decisions. You need to stop accepting the blame for what those men did to you. They were animals, and they should have been severely punished for what they did to you. You need to try to put it behind you. You still have a lot of good years to live your life. Don't let that terrible memory ruin all of your future."

She stood up and so did I. I reached for her and held her close to me. I was crying a little bit as I held her. I felt her tiny body constantly being wracked with her sobs. If I'd had it in my power right then, I'd have sought out the men who abused her and taken a great pleasure in ending their lives. There are some crimes that are deserving of that type of retribution. To me, this was one of them. I held her for about ten minutes, until her sobs had subsided. I still was holding her when I asked her the question.

"Are you going to help those boys with me, Joyce?"

"If you still want me to."

"I want you to now more than ever. Thank you for telling me about what happened. I'm honored that you trusted me enough to share that with me." As I released her, she threw her arms around my waist, holding me tightly for another minute. When she finally let me go, I could see a tiny smile on her face. I knew as soon as I saw it, that I'd just crossed some kind of relationship line with Joyce. I'd been her employer, her boss, but now, the status of our relationship had been changed. I hoped we were going to be friends, but, I now began to suspect that Joyce was hoping for more.



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Chapter 12

"Hi, Kenny? This is me, Brenda. Are you surprised to hear from me? I bet you are."

I replaced the phone receiver back in its cradle, without my having said a single word to her. I had been beyond surprised. Panicked was more of an accurate description than surprised would be. I had been up in my bedroom, writing more of my thoughts about my life and ambitions, when our phone had rung. I picked it up after about the third ring, thinking that Gerta and Hans must have gone out somewhere. My parents had already gone out for the evening earlier. Brenda was probably the last person I'd have expected to phone our house.

The phone started ringing again, almost immediately, but this time I didn't answer it. I wondered why Brenda would think I'd want to talk to her. I had heard Mama telling Dad that Mrs. Connor having trouble convincing Brenda to go back to that school in Ohio. Mama said she had done as much as she was willing to do with Brenda. I got the distinct impression that she was ready to just forget about all the Connor's.

She was so busy with the golf academy, and she had started back having small episodes of depression again. It was only by tremendous force of her will that she was managing to continue functioning through some of the bad periods. I had observed her crying a few times, but somehow, she always managed to rally well enough to go off to the academy by the next morning. Dad and I were both worried, but Hans had volunteered to stick close to her when she was going to be out of the house.

I was still missing Shirley, but, I was determined to move on with things. I would still find myself thinking of her, but I would force myself to do something more constructive than to sit around and dwell on my sadness. I had turned down my parents invitation to join them for dinner and dancing at the country club.

I started wondering what Brenda had wanted. She probably had heard about Shirley leaving, I guessed. Maybe she was calling to offer to take Shirley's place. Just thinking about that possibility made me shudder. The last thing I needed was to get involved with Brenda again.

The trouble with thinking along those lines, they made me once again aware of the fact that I was still a teenager, and one who had been used to fairly regular sexual attentions. I hadn't thought too much about that since the breakup with Shirley, but it was definitely something that I did think about. My body had been sending me the message that it was ready to participate in some kind of sexual activity. I hadn't been doing anything on my own to reduce the pressure I was starting to feel building up.

I felt a little disloyal to Shirley just for having those kinds of thoughts. Feeling that way made me angry at myself. She had already decided to dump me, and she wasn't likely to change her mind. I didn't even want to think about what she might be doing to relieve her own built up needs. I was glad that I hadn't given her that pizza screwdriver.

-------

Sunday, I drove over to Bolling, spending the early part of the day with Jane and Grace. They were getting their laundry and other chores done, because Sunday was their one day off from the golf academy. I spent some time telling them about Shirley and Ellen, and about how I had been taken pretty much by surprise when Shirley broke up with me.

"You never pay attention to all the signals girls give you, Kenny. When a girl keeps getting mad at you, for no good reason, or when she wants to have a fight, even though you've already apologized to her, that means she is having second thoughts about being with you." I looked at Grace, listening closely to what she'd told me. It made sense, but then it didn't. Shirley never started a fight telling me that she didn't think I was the right guy for her. She never even hinted that she felt that way.

"Grace is right, Kenny. You don't pay attention enough. We noticed it at your last birthday party, and you even made a comment about it later, that Shirley didn't seem nervous or jealous of Brenda being there. When the new girlfriend sees the boyfriend around his old girlfriend, if she isn't concerned, that's a bad sign. It means she isn't really serious about the guy. She was probably just interested in getting some experience with boys."

I didn't know where either of them were getting that stuff. I think they were going back and making things up, after the fact, to fit their theories. I was pretty sure that Shirley had really loved me.

"You're both wrong. She loved me as much as I loved her."

"Why did she break up with you then?" Grace asked the question even before Jane could ask it of me. I saw Jane starting to say something when Grace beat her to the punch.

"They were moving to another state, a thousand miles away. She's sixteen, and she had to go with her parents." Those reasons made perfect sense to me.

"Did she even try to work anything else out with you?" This was from Jane.

"No, because we'd had a fight, and, by then, she already knew her father had taken this other job in South Carolina. Everything doesn't have to be all complicated or part of some wicked plot. It could just be as simple as a young girl knowing she wasn't ready to be separated from her parents. I wouldn't want to leave my parents to run off to South Carolina with her either."

"Did she ask you to? I bet she didn't." I was getting tired of Jane asking questions like that. Shirley hadn't discussed her impending departure with me. She must have known something when we were together in Chicago, but she hadn't even hinted at anything.

"I didn't come over here to discuss Shirley. Do you guys want to take a break and go out to get something to eat?"

"If you're buying, we're hungry."

"Good. Let's talk about how the golf academy is doing. Do you guys like being counselors? Do you get free lessons from the pros?"

We spent the next hour, eating ribs, drinking Cokes, and talking golf. Grace told some funny stories about some of the academy students antics, including a story about finding two girls in the same bed at two in the morning. When discovered, the girls tried to tell Grace that one of them had gotten a leg cramp and the other one was trying to massage it out. Grace put the beam of her flashlight on the face of the girl that was talking, and then told her that she had somehow gotten massage oil all over her face.

They also started kidding me about helping me sneak into the lodge with them some night, and then making me available to some of their young charges. When I left them, I was feeling better about things.

I drove over to the orphanage with two big containers, each one holding two and one half gallons of chocolate ice cream. I'd bought it from a wholesale distributor that I'd found the address for. I hoped to make it a regular thing for one day during the week, but I couldn't resist when I found out they were open on Sundays too. I saw Mother Superior, and she promised me that they would serve the ice cream after that night's dinner. She had lost a lot of weight, and I could tell she was having some kind of health problem. Her eyes looked a little unfocused to me, and she didn't seem as forceful or sure of herself as she had been in the past. When I asked her if she was all right, she started talking to me about how she was comfortable in relying on her lord and savior.

Next, I stopped off to see Bea and my Aunt Clara. I had been growing concerned at the amount of time that was passing without my grandmother coming home from the sanitarium that Uncle Bunny and Aunt Clara had placed her in. After spending fifteen rather uncomfortable minutes listening to Aunt Clara making excuses for not wanting her mother home just then, I told her that she needed to be doing something. I told her we were expecting her to take care of her mother and sister, not to just continue to indulge herself with her new found freedoms.

"Slick, I'm leaving in the next few days. Clara was already planning to drive over and pick up the old lady. She's been staying in contact with both of them, but the old lady really hasn't been ready to be sprung loose until now. Anne isn't going to be ready for at least a couple more months. We drove over to see her last week. The problem with her is that she really likes where she's at, and she doesn't want to leave there. Every time they start telling her she's almost ready to leave, she finds a way to get her hands on some joy juice, and gets herself swacked." Bea was treating the whole thing pretty lightly, like it didn't matter that she and Aunt Clara were doing nothing, and having all their expenses taken care of by one of my uncle's trusts.

"Did you at least complete your triple crown, Bea?" From the way my aunt started blushing, I knew she understood the reference I'd made.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Speaking of that, we don't want to rush you, but we've sort of got an appointment that we can't afford to be late for. Tell Gerta I'll call her before I leave, and tell your mother that I'm sorry for how I acted before. I was completely out of line."

I stepped to the side, to let them pass, and Aunt Clara and Bea headed straight for the car that Uncle Bunny had bought for my aunt. As I watched them leaving, I made a mental note to check in with Frank Clooney. I wanted to get some kind of statement from him, detailing all the expenses that were paid to my Aunt since Bea moved in. I was beginning to have my suspicions about Aunt Clara's agreement with Uncle Bunny. I remember it was made so she could watch over Mildred and Anne Coulter. So far, she seemed more inclined to leave them housed in institutions, and live by herself, or with Bea, in the newly renovated house.

I remember wishing that Aunt Clara had been that resourceful when she'd been the person in charge of the Christmas fund raising for us kids at the orphanage. Now that Uncle Bunny was dead, I wondered if Aunt Clara was trying to milk the estate for what she could get.

I got home after seven on Sunday night. As soon as I walked through the front door, Gerta informed me that I'd had two phone calls from Shirley. She handed me a message slip with Shirley's phone number written on it. I asked what time dinner was being served and was told that everyone else had already eaten. Gerta told me she could make me a couple of her Dagwood sandwiches. I followed her into the kitchen and had a cold glass of milk while I waited for her to make my meal.

As soon as the sandwiches were ready, I refilled my glass, and then took my plate of sandwiches upstairs to be eaten in my room. I sat at the table in my room, eating my sandwich, and staring at Shirley's phone number. According to Gerta's notes, she had called first at noon, and then again at five o'clock. I knew that the time zones made it either one or two hours later in South Carolina. I looked at my watch, and it was half past seven. Even if it was two hours difference, nine thirty wasn't too late for me to return her call.

I sat there, wondering about what I could say to her when she answered the phone. Ten days before, I wouldn't have given that topic any thought at all. Calling Shirley was an everyday occurrence then. I knew that what I said when I first called her would set the tone for whatever our new relationship was going to be. What did I want it to be? I closed my eyes and tried to think of what I wanted, in the simplest sense of that word. What did I want? I wanted her to tell me she'd made a terrible mistake, that she loved me too much to be able to be so far apart from me. I knew that was unrealistic, and that, if I went in hoping for something similar to that, I was going to end up disappointed. Okay, what was the very least I could accept from this unexpected contact?

She had called me. That didn't mean much, because I had no way to contact her, not until she called. Clearing my mind, I decided I could settle for just hearing her voice again. Even if all she called for was to tell me goodbye, I'd be satisfied because it was more than I had expected to get from her. It would erase some of the hurt and anger I'd felt at how she walked away without giving me any warning about what was to come. She could say almost anything to me, and it wouldn't be worse than not having spoken to her at all. I ate one whole sandwich before I decided to dial the number. I was too anxious to hear her voice to finish both of them.

"Kenny?" I felt myself getting warmer when I heard her voice. She'd answered me after the first ring. That meant she'd been close to the telephone. I thought that was a positive sign. "Hello? Are you there?"

"Hello. I just got home, and Gerta told me you'd called. Are you guys settled in yet?" Not exactly brilliant conversation, but I was waiting for her to give me a signal about how she wanted this call to go. I'd let her set the tone, whatever she wanted.

"Where were you?"

"I went over to Bolling to see Jane and Grace, and then I stopped off at my Aunt's house."

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too. It's still hard for me to believe you've gone so far away."

"I know. I've been crying ever since before we left. I shouldn't have run away from you without telling you we were leaving. I called Ellen yesterday. She told me what you did."

"I don't want to get in anymore fights about Ellen."

"Me either. I didn't call you to fight with you. I wanted to tell you that I still love you, and I always will."

"Mama told me that I wasn't your perfect fit, but I don't really believe in perfect fits. We fit plenty well enough for me."

"I'm not sure. Sometimes, I thought it was perfect, but usually I wondered, because you were the only boy I'd ever known much about. Mom told me she knew for certain, as soon as she laid eyes on my father. I didn't feel that way. I liked the way you looked, but I didn't feel like you were definitely the one."

"I guess you were right. It looks like I'm not."

"I'm not sure you aren't, but I'm not sure that you are either."

"Shirley, I hate that you aren't here anymore. I miss you. I'm not sure about you either, not anymore. I'm sure you moved away, and I know things aren't going to be the way they were. I was mad at first, but, after I thought about it, I knew you didn't have any other choice. You had to go with your parents. I'd have done the same thing, even though I love you and would have felt terrible about leaving."

"I just wanted to know that you don't hate me."

"I don't. I hated the way it happened, but I could never hate you."

"Are you going to be going out with girls again now?" That was a little sudden, for her to switch the topic like that. What was she expecting from me? We were going to be separated by close to a thousand miles. As far as I knew, she had no plans to come see me, and I hadn't made any to go East to visit her.

"I haven't been thinking about that. I've been too busy trying to get used to what happened with us. I can't see myself becoming some kind of hermit though. I guess if I met someone I was interested in, I'd probably ask her out. What about you?"

"I feel the same way, but, in my case, it's a lot less likely that someone is going to ask me out. You'll probably start getting phone calls from all your old girlfriends, as soon as they find out I'm gone."

"Brenda called me yesterday. I hung up without speaking to her."

"She didn't waste any time. I wasn't even thinking about Brenda. I was worried about Ellen though. I'm glad that you didn't decide to go out with her. I kind of figured out, even before we left, that she was telling me all those things to try to see if she could break us up. I knew she liked you a lot. I'm getting so sad from thinking about you being with someone else. I know that's very selfish of me, but that's really how I feel."

"It feels wrong for us to be talking about going out with other people. I know we will, but I don't like to think about it when we're talking together. I just want to think of us, even though there really isn't an us anymore."

"Don't put it like that. We don't know what might happen. Maybe we'll just take a break, then find out later that we should be together. We should at least be open to that happening, its a possibility."

"I don't want to put my life on hold like that. I don't want to think about something like that, or worry about it being a possible future. I can't have it coloring everything I do, because that idea is swimming around in the back of my head. I already figured out that, unlike you, I'm not looking only for a perfect fit. If it happens, that's fine, but I can be satisfied with what we had, maybe even with less than what we had. If something should happen, and it turned out there was an us in the future, I'll deal with it then, but I'm not going to close myself off from finding someone just because you might decide to change your mind, three or four years from now."

"Suppose I changed my mind right now? We could get married in Maryland if we wanted to. We're old enough, I checked."

"I might have considered that earlier, but not now. Your mother told me what you were concerned about. You've told me the same thing. My mother told me she thought we weren't compatible as far as our energy and drive went. I think she meant our different ambitions. I wouldn't want you to go ahead and marry me now, only to decide later, that there might be someone else who would be a better fit for you."

"I thought you'd say that. I even expected you'd think like that. I needed to be sure. I'd like you to keep in touch with me, Kenny. We can be pen pals, or phone pals. I really want us to stay in touch. It would make me feel like there was still some small hope for us."

"I'll call you at least once a week. Is this your personal number, or is it just the family phone?"

"This is my own private number. We're renting this house on a one year lease, with an option to buy it. It belongs to one of the men who hired my father, but he bought another house. Tell me when you might be calling, and I'll make sure I'm here to answer the phone."

"How about every Sunday night? I'll call you at six o'clock our time, so that would be seven o'clock your time. I can't guarantee it will be exactly on the hour, but always around then. If I'm going to call you at another time, I'll just dial your number and see if you answer or not."

"Will you tell me if you start dating someone?"

"I guess I could. How about you? Are you going to tell me?"

"I talked to a boy who lives down the street, does that count?"

"I don't think it counts unless you go out and do something together. It counts if you go out to eat, or to a movie, something like that."

"He's only seven years old, so we'd probably have to go to a kiddie show. I did buy him a fudgesicle when the ice cream man came by, does that count?"

"I guess not, not unless you showed him your screwdrivers while he was licking it."

"That was pretty mean, Kenny. I haven't even unpacked them yet. Do you still have the ones you keep in your closet?"

"I guess. I haven't moved them."

"That's because you're still hoping I'll come back."

"You might be right. I don't want to think about that right now though. I'm glad we've had a chance to talk. I feel better about things now. I hated not being able to contact you. Now, you don't seem as far away to me." I knew that Orangeburg, the city she now lived in, was in the middle of the state, and that meant it was less than one thousand miles from me. I could drive it in two days easily. Shirley wasn't out of my life anymore, she was only two days away. I knew she was further away in other ways though. I took comfort in knowing the physical separation was finite and measurable. I was going to buy a road map and plan the shortest route.

After we had gotten off the phone, I went over to my bed and thought about our conversation. I knew we had only opened a simple dialogue, that nothing had really been settled. I decided it had been a healing conversation, and that we both had wounds that needed mending. If possible, I decided I'd like to remain friends with Shirley. In spite of our banter about things, I knew the issue of seeing other people loomed as a potential sore point with both of us. I didn't believe it could be avoided. I wasn't sure I wanted to try to put it off for much longer. It would have been too much pressure on each of us, and the reality of our situation was that we were separated by more than physical distance. We were split up, and we needed to face up to that fact.



-------

Chapter 13

I was very aware that nothing had been resolved by the phone conversation that I'd had with Shirley. What had changed though, was the way I felt about things, having had the opportunity of speaking with her again. I felt less pessimistic. It wasn't that I thought we'd be able to patch things up, or that we'd work out our differences. I didn't believe that we might get back together. It was only that we had somehow changed the direction of our being apart. We weren't still moving away from each other, and the distance we were apart didn't seem impossibly far to me, not like it had seemed before. She wasn't totally lost to me, because we had reestablished contact.

On Monday, as soon as I arrived at my office, Joyce made a comment about my seeming less troubled and unhappy. I told her that I'd had a good week end, and just left it at that.

My father had spent all of Sunday in his study, going over various reports and thinking about how he could best utilize the information that Joyce had presented to him. At breakfast on Monday, he handed me a list of questions he wanted me to investigate for him. At the top of his list was a notation to me, advising me that he wanted Joyce to be the one who communicated with Mildred Taylor.

"Why do you want her to be the only one from the company to talk to Mrs. Taylor?"

"Kenny, its very obvious to me, from what you told me about the meeting you and Joyce had with her, that she's taken a liking to Joyce. I believe she's going out of her way to help Joyce by offering her concessions she might not otherwise give to us. I don't want to disturb such a development."

"You think she's doing things for us just because she likes Joyce?"

"I think she might be. You said yourself that she chose to address Joyce rather than you, even after she indicated that she knew you were my son. Just from what we've already learned, thanks to Joyce's taking the initiative, our future expansion plans have been greatly enhanced. We have all the room we'll need to store both the vending products and the newly manufactured vending machines. Look at the third item on your list. That is the most critical of the answers I'm going to be needing. I would like Joyce getting advice from Mildred about the easiest way of handling that problem. If we can get that set up, everything else will come together for us."

Item number three was a question about how many days after arrival at the rail yard closest to the delivery destination we would be able to store the rail car. I had assumed that the railroad would just deliver the rail car to the siding at the distribution center, just as soon as it arrived.

"Why would they delay delivery?"

"I'm hoping they'll do it because it would make things a lot better for us if they did. Like any other business, they want satisfied customers. We wouldn't need to store things at the distribution warehouses for as long. We could accept delivery of things as needed, knowing that the material was stored close by. Believe me, having the ability to store product and machines, for two or three weeks, would make a huge difference to us. It would allow us to make much fuller use of our ovens, and that means we'd be able to increase our productivity. More productivity means greater profits."

"What would be the advantage for Mildred?"

"We'd increase the number of rail cars we'd be shipping, and she makes a profit every time we ship anything with her. It would also tie us closer to the railroad, and involve us in shipping more of the company's products by rail. It would also cause us to consider rail distribution as an option for each of our companies. Doing that would solve most of our integration issues with the new companies, and make all four companies, and the vending machine business, operate more efficiently."

"Have you thought about how many extra rail cars this might mean? She'll want to have something specific to consider when she was making her decisions. She's a sharp business person too." I asked him that because I knew Mrs. Taylor would be asking Joyce. I also wanted to have an idea myself, about how big a commitment my father was thinking of making.

"That depends on how close she can bring rail rates to what we're currently getting from our trucking shippers. If she can get us a fifty per cent discount from those single car rates, it could conceivably be more than two thousand rail cars a year, from all of our locations."

I knew that Joyce would love having the opportunity to negotiate with Mrs. Taylor. This was especially true when she had that large of an increase in shipping business to offer as an incentive for the hoped for concessions. I also agreed with my father about Joyce being the one most likely to get Mrs. Taylor to agree to accept the freight rate cuts that my father was hoping to get.

I didn't know if what my father was hoping for was even possible for Mrs. Taylor to deliver. I'd never even thought of delivery delays being beneficial for our companies, or using such delays to effectively store product from our routed delivery schedule. I knew that Joyce would be able to get all that Mrs. Taylor was able to offer, at least in the storage concessions, and that was all my father could expect from her.

-------

Joyce spent all day making and receiving phone calls from Mildred Taylor. In the beginning, Joyce was told that what she wanted wasn't possible. There were too many variables that were controlled by each separately owned and operated rail yard. It was a usual thing for one line to park empty cars in another lines yard, awaiting shipment back to their point of origin. Lines also leased out rail cars to one another, as a courtesy, and to reduce having too many empty cars just sitting around, not producing any revenues. There were so many lesser issues too, not the least of which would be insuring the contents of cars being stored in the smaller yards, ones with less sophisticated security protocols.

Little by little throughout the course of the day, each issue was resolved. Things that had loomed, in the beginning, as insurmountable hurdles, were either solved, or some way was found to work around them. At five that evening, Mildred Taylor was as excited as Joyce.

Mildred was well on her way to becoming a freight broker for us. She had concluded that the only way to make what my father wanted workable, was for her to negotiate terms, individually, with each rail yard. She was excited, because she saw this brokerage service as a potential windfall, earning for her company, hundreds of small commissions, paid for her acting as the freight broker.

She had always handled all of these negotiations separately, in her many years of working in rail freight, but only as the principal, representing her own rail yard. She saw the potential for doing blanket negotiating for the use of storage space at other yards. In a way, what she would be doing was the same as if she had been expanding her own rail operations.

Tuesday, Joyce and I went out to lunch with my father. Joyce outlined the basic terms of what Mildred was offering. Primarily, there was a fifty three per cent price concession from single car rates, but Mildred was holding back five per cent as an offset against any charges or expenses that she might incur when leasing time and space for what my father needed.

Whatever funds she didn't use for this would be released back to us at the end of the first year's contract. Under this proposal, at the very worst, we'd still be getting a net one per cent discount off of our previously negotiated shipping rate. Anything greater in the amount of her leasing costs would be absorbed by Mrs. Taylor and the railroad.

The only way we could lose would be if we failed to ship greater than one thousand rail cars during the first year of the contract. My father commented that he knew he could ship at least twelve hundred cars, and that was with current sales and shipments. He anticipated rapid growth once the new system was in place.

In the event my father decided to store his products in rail cars for a period longer than two weeks, our company would agree to absorb any additional costs that had to be paid for that extra usage.

Mrs. Taylor had mentioned that each yard would be setting their own rates for the accommodation, but that she'd negotiate blanket rates with the ones that we'd be using the most. The difference, Joyce explained to us, was that we'd have fourteen days for however many cars we parked in a location at one time. If one car stayed for three days, once it left the yard, the remaining eleven unused days would pass to the other remaining cars of ours still parked in the yard. By staggering the number of days we'd delay them from completing delivery, some of our cars might be parked, without any extra charges, for more than a month.

It was readily apparent that the proposal being offered was highly acceptable to my father. Once he knew that he could store cars for almost no cost, all over the country, his mind started racing with all the new possibilities this opened up to him.

It was a good lunch for us. All the news was very good and welcome. We returned to the office, both basking in my Dad's effusive praise, knowing that the new proposed contract represented a huge improvement for all of our companies.

-------

Mama called me at work Tuesday, later in the afternoon. She had never called me at work before. I was afraid something bad might have happened.

"Kenny, I need you to do me a big favor."

"Sure, if I can."

"It concerns Brenda." Immediately, I was on my guard. I had thought that my mother was done with trying to get Brenda back with me.

"Concerns her in what way?"

"She has agreed to re-enroll in that school in Ohio, but only on the condition that you drive her there, and that you treat her nicely during the time that you're together."

"No. You know what she'll ask me for if I spend anytime at all with her. If I don't do that, she'll use my refusal to claim that I wasn't being nice. She's just using this as a pretext to get you to help her try to get back together with me again."

"This school has what Bunny wanted for Brenda, Kenny. You know he thought Brenda needed the treatment that this school can offer her. I'm not asking you to do this to help Brenda, I'm asking you because I know Bunny would have asked you himself, if he were around to do so. You can drive up there in a single day. It isn't like you'd have to spend the whole night with her. If there is even the slightest chance that Brenda will go there and successfully complete that program, you have an obligation help her do so."

I hadn't heard Mama ask me for much, and most of what she had asked had concerned Brenda. She had promised me several times that she was done with doing that though. I already knew that I'd do what she wanted. I might have been able to say no if it were just her, but not to both her and Uncle Bunny too. I owed both of them way too much to do that. Since I was going to be doing what she wanted me to do anyway, I decided to try to negotiate something that made more sense to me.

"Is Mrs. Connor going to go with us?"

"No. I thought of that too, but Brenda insists that it just be the two of you. She wouldn't budge from that position."

"Tell her I might agree to drive her there, but not the two of us alone. She wants that three million dollars, just like her mother wants hers. Tell her I wouldn't budge on insisting on another person being there too."

"Kenny, don't be unreasonable. She's not going to attack you. What's the worst that could possibly happen? We both know what Brenda is really asking for. Would it be so bad if you give her what she wants?"

"I won't do that. If that's what you both are expecting, it isn't going to happen."

"We'll speak about this later, dear. I just wanted to call you so that I could tell Brenda you are considering it. I want you to do this for Bunny. Brenda is still one of the loveliest girls I've ever seen. Most boys would be thrilled to give her a ride wherever she wanted to go. I wouldn't ask this of you if you were still involved with Shirley, but, things are changed now, and you're free to do this for us."

"I'm not free. Not in my mind, not in my heart. If I were free though, I don't think I'd be willing to be intimate with Brenda again."

"Kenny, in this life we enjoy together, we all have occasion to do things we'd really prefer not having to do. All of us, but that is just a small part of the greater obligation that we share with each other. It comes with the territory, part of the responsibility of having a family. I love you, and I'd never want to hurt you, or to take any unfair advantage of you, but this is simply too important for me to allow you to refuse to do it. It isn't enough that you are pleading that you have a personal distaste for the duty."

I remembered Mama's statement to Mrs. Connor that she was the strongest member of the family, and that Uncle Bunny was the one who was soft. I knew I wouldn't have been able to refuse Uncle Bunny if he'd asked me to do this. I also know he wouldn't have asked me the same way Mama was.

"Did you tell Brenda that I'd have sex with her if she went back to this school?"

"I didn't have to. She came to me with that offer. I merely told her that I'd try to talk you into it."

"Go back and tell her I offered a counter proposal. If she goes back to this school, and somehow lasts until Christmas vacation, if the school reports that she was cooperative and worked with all the counselors, I'll spend a night with her, in my bedroom, sometime over the Christmas break."

"I think she might agree to that, Kenny, but only if you made her that offer yourself. Will you please call her and see if she's agreeable?"

"I'm only agreeing to do this because of Uncle Bunny, You and I had a deal about Brenda, Mama. You've broken that deal with me again."

"I know I have dear, and I'm going to make it up to you. If you're being honest with me though, you'll have to admit that the thought of spending a night alone with Brenda isn't something that you are really dreading."

"The thought of spending the night with her in my room, during Christmas break, after she's spent four or five months in that school, is less distasteful to me than giving her what she wants now would be. I have a real objection to rewarding her before she's actually done anything that she's promised. I'm not paying her for something she hasn't already done. Who knows, after a few months of counseling, Brenda might decide that letting me screw her up in my bedroom isn't what she really wants or needs?"

"Well, if it helps her get her life back on track, it isn't too high a price for you to pay. I'd be very surprised if she changes so much that she won't want her reward for having gone back to that school."

"I doubt it as well. I never thought I'd be the prize someone was offering to get someone to do something that would help them. I'll call her after we finish talking. I'm afraid if I delay calling her, I'll change my mind and then end up chickening out."

I hung up the phone, and it was only then that I noticed Joyce, standing in the open connecting doorway between our offices. She was looking over at me with a strange expression on her face. I smiled over to her, hoping to set her at ease.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but that was a very unusual phone conversation. That was really your mother?"

"Yes. This was an unusual conversation, but it took place because of the very long and involved situation that involved both Brenda and myself. Brenda, the girl we were talking about, she was my first real girlfriend, and she's almost like a part of our family. In fact, my mother still has high hopes that, someday, we'll patch up our differences, and go on to live happily ever after. Brenda is supposed to be going to this school in Ohio. My late uncle was certain that this school would help her become a better person. She needs to change a lot of things about the way she treats other people."

"She wants you to sleep with her as a reward for her agreeing to go to this school?"

"Brenda wants me to get back together with her, and, she's hoping that I'll be more willing to do that, if she can get me to have sex with her again. She knows I have a susceptibility to her charms. She's counting on that to sway me."

"Will you have sex with her?"

"I'm not sure. She does have some kind of weird power over me. I can't even begin to explain it. Even though I've been actually hoping to never set eyes on her again, just thinking about her now, it makes me get all excited." I was very erect, to the point where I was getting uncomfortable. Brenda always had that effect on me.

"She must be very pretty." Joyce wasn't looking at me when she said this. Instead, she was staring down at her shoes.

"Yes, and that's a big part of her problem. If she weren't so pretty, she might treat people nicer. She thinks her looks will get all her other behavior excused. Sometimes, I think she's right to think that, but it makes her a very hurtful person."

"I wonder what it would be like, being able to make people go crazy, just because of your looks?"

"I don't know. In Brenda's case, I think it has hurt her. She's never developed into a caring person. She only cares about herself."

"What about you? How does it affect you?"

"I guess it affects me just like it affects all the other people. I see her, the way she looks, and I put up with things from her that I'd never put up with in other people." Joyce started blushing.

"I meant how does it affect you with the way people react to your looks."

"Nobody goes crazy about my looks, Joyce. I'm just a regular looking guy." Joyce giggled, and then she put her hand over her mouth, turning away from me. She walked back to her desk. I knew there were some girls who liked the way I looked, but not the same way people, both boys and girls, responded to Brenda's looks. Maybe to Joyce I was good looking, but if she ever set her eyes on Brenda, she'd understand what I meant. Compared to Brenda, I really was chopped liver.

-------

Mrs. Connor answered the phone when I called over to talk to Brenda. I identified myself, asking her if Brenda was available to speak with. I looked up while I was waiting for Brenda to come to the phone. Joyce had returned to the connecting door, and was obviously prepared to listen in on my conversation with Brenda. Her interest in this part of my personal life was a little bit shocking, and a little bit amusing to me as well. I decided I'd have some fun with it.

"If you want to listen to me talking to her, Joyce, you can come right on over here and park yourself in this chair. I don't want to have to speak loudly just so you can hear me from way over there." She blushed, an even darker shade of pink than before, but she didn't hesitate, coming forward and sitting demurely in the chair I kept along the side of my desk.

She was so short, her feet didn't quite reach the floor when she was sitting all the way back in the chair. She may have been embarrassed, but she wasn't going to allow any embarrassment to prevent her from listening to what I was going to be saying to Brenda.

"Hello?" Brenda sounded excited when she came on the line.

"Hi Brenda, this is Kenny. How are you doing?" I still hadn't made up my mind about how I was going to approach things with her.

"I'm good, Kenny. Your mother just called mine, to tell her that you'd be calling me. Does this mean you're going to drive me to that school?"

"No, I'm not going to be driving you." I waited, savoring the thought of her being sorely disappointed in my response.

"Well, after you hung up on me the other night, I thought you might not be willing to. I still don't understand why you have to hold such a big grudge against me. All those things happened a long time ago. I'm a lot more mature now."

"I did have a different idea, Brenda. One that I think you might like. I know you wanted me to give you a different kind of ride. Something that's a lot more personal than driving you to that school. Isn't that right?"

"Well, I thought you might want to talk to me while we were driving there. I know you still like the way I look. I guess I thought we might end up doing more than just driving to Ohio."

"Mama really wanted me to drive you. I'm sure she knows what you were really after. She still asked me to do it."

"I already told her what I really wanted. I wasn't trying to trick you, Kenny. She said she couldn't just come out and ask you to do that with me. She's the one who said we should just ask for you to drive me. I'm not going back to that school unless we have sex together again. I already told my mom and I also told yours. That's the price you have to pay if you want to get me to go back there."

"That three million dollars that Uncle Bunny left you in his will? I don't know if you know this, but it goes to me if you don't fulfill the terms he set up for you to receive it. Why should I want you to go to that school? It would actually cost me a lot of money if you did go back."

"I don't care that much about his money. I'm not going back unless you do me again. It wouldn't even take you that long, maybe two hours, and then its done."

"Brenda, please. This is me you're talking to now. I know exactly how much being rich means to you. You'd go back to that school, crawling on your hands and knees to get there, if you had to. I know you're going to go there, whether I do this thing with you, or if I don't. You might be able to fool our mothers into thinking otherwise, but I know exactly how much you love money. No, I'm not a bit worried about you deciding to go back there. Three million dollars, that's a lot of money. I'll bet you play with your pussy at night, thinking about what you're going to be able to do when you finally get all that money." I looked at Joyce's face when I said pussy. She was already leaning forward, listening closely to every word. I didn't know if she was able to hear anything that Brenda said, but I leaned over closer to where she was sitting, and put the receiver a little distance away from my ear to give her a better chance to hear Brenda.

"I don't think about the money when I do that. My mother's lawyer says we'll all get that money anyway. He said those were unreasonable conditions that Mr. Chalmers set, and he said the judge wouldn't allow them to stand."

"It doesn't matter what he told your mother, Brenda. The legal precedent has been set. Our lawyers all told us that those requirements will stand up in court, because it was a strictly voluntary bequest. It would only be ruled unreasonable if Uncle Bunny had already been under some kind of obligation to give you that money. If he already had to give it to you, and then he had added unfair conditions, the conditions might be overturned. The way it is, there's no way you can win a lawsuit. You'll never see a penny of that money, not unless you complete the conditions he set for you to get it."

"Why are you being so mean about it? Mom said he left you more money than you could ever spend in a hundred lifetimes. You don't need my three million dollars."

"That's true, I don't need it. Still, whoever heard of someone not being willing to accept another three million dollars? I have plenty of uses for it. Maybe I'll set up some kind of home for children. I think I could give it to some homely girls, and let them use it to make themselves beautiful. Those plastic surgeons can make anyone pretty now. Beauty can be bought and paid for. You'd be doing about thirty homely girls a real good turn if you decided not to go back to that school."

"You're just kidding me. You wouldn't do that. Nobody gives that kind of money away."

"That's what you're telling me you'd do. You don't go back, and that money comes right into my pocket. I can do whatever I want to with it then."

"Why don't you want to do it with me, Kenny? You liked it the last time."

"I liked it a lot. Of course, I didn't know you were fucking an eleven year old boy when I let you come sleep in my bed."

"He was twelve, and I already told you it was to keep Emily from wanting to do those things with me."

"I might be willing to let you spend another night in bed with me, Brenda. I'd like to lick your pussy again, and then fuck you until you squirt all that juice out. That was a lot of fun when we did that. If I decided to give you another chance in my bed, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I would like it, a lot. You'd like it too, I know you would. When could we do that?"

"How about right after you get back home for Christmas vacation? All you'd have to do was bring me a written report from the school saying that you were attending all your classes, and willingly participating in all the therapy sessions they set up for you."

"That's too long for me to wait. How about once before I leave, and then again, after I come home for Christmas? I'll bring a good report just like you asked for, I promise."

"Sorry Brenda. I already told you what I'd be willing to do. Take it or leave it."

"If I go back to school, will you let me have some of the money right away? I don't mean a lot of it, just like fifty thousand dollars, so I know I'll get something out of it even if it doesn't work out all the way."

"Sorry. It doesn't work that way. The will was very clear about what you needed to do to see any of that money. I'm not going to negotiate with you, Brenda. In fact, there's one more thing you'd need to do before I'd even agree to what I offered you."

"What?"

"Emily. You need to go see her, at her house, and convince her that you aren't mad at her anymore, and that you've forgiven her."

"How about if I just call her instead?"

"How about if you lick her pussy, just like she licked yours? That should convince her you're really sorry. If you do that, and you go back to school and bring me that good report about your classes and the therapy too, I promise I'll make that night in my bedroom something that you'll always remember. It will be better than the last time. Shirley taught me some things I just know you're going to love."

"What things? Never mind, because I'm not going to do what you want with Emily anyway."

"Okay, Brenda, it's your choice to make. Have fun going to school wherever you choose. I'll send you a list of the names of the girls who benefited from your generous gift."

"I can still go to that school and get my money. You can't stop me from doing that."

"I don't want to stop you. You were the one who wanted something extra. I was just discussing what you'd have to do to earn it."

"I won't lick her."

"Until she cums, Brenda. Not just a few quick licks so you can say you did it. I'm going to need to hear Emily telling me how it felt when she first felt your tongue sliding through her pussy lips. How it felt when her body finally got to the point where it felt so good she couldn't stop herself from cumming."

"I won't do it."

"Well, that's that then. I tried, but you just wouldn't agree to a few simple conditions. I might have been willing to let you do that to Emily in my room too. I probably would haver gotten so hot from watching you do it that I'd have fucked you from behind while you were eating her." I was looking at Joyce for most of the time I was talking to Brenda. She was obviously embarrassed by what I was saying, but fascinated by it as well. I was keeping the conversation going with Brenda because I was enjoying watching Joyce's reactions to what was being said.

"When could we do that? If I changed my mind about doing that with Emily."

When are you leaving to go to Ohio?"

"I'm supposed to report on July seventh, in about a week I think."

"Exactly six days, since today's July 1st. Let me find out from my assistant what day I have free for doing that. Joyce, when will I have a free day to watch Brenda licking Emily's pussy?" I looked at Joyce, smiling as I spoke. Brenda was sputtering into the receiver, telling me that I better not be saying things on the phone to her while somebody else was listening to me. Joyce wasn't able to say anything. She looked like she was ready to swallow her own tongue. "How about Saturday, Joyce. I'm not working then, and neither are you. Would you like to come watch while Brenda licks Emily?" I had to laugh out loud at Joyce's reaction. She stood up, jumped up, in fact, and ran out of my office. "Brenda, Joyce went back to her office, to check our calendar, but I'm pretty sure that Saturday would be good for us."

"Kenny, you didn't really have someone there listening to us, did you?"

"It was only my assistant, Joyce. We work together on almost everything. We have no secrets from each other. I'm not even sure if she wants to come over to watch us. Are you going to do what I ask with Emily or not?"

"I don't know. Do you really think you'd want to do it to me from behind, if I let you watch me licking her?"

"I think so. I'm not positive, but you know how I get when I see your pretty ass all naked and wiggling around. You have to decide quickly though, because I'm either going to watch you and Emily, or else I'm going to go play some golf."

"All right, but, if I decide to do it, you have to call Emily and set it all up with her. Do I have to be friends with her, or will my licking her be enough?"

"Whatever it takes to make her feel like you've forgiven her, and want to be friends with her again."

"I don't want to be friends with her. Look at all the trouble she's made for me."

"Look at all the trouble you've made for me, and how bad you've hurt me. Do you think it's fair for you to want me to forgive you, if you aren't willing to forgive Emily?"

"Call me tomorrow. I'll think about everything. I might decide not to do anything, with any of you."

"I'll be home from work tomorrow at around six fifteen. You can call me then, and tell me what you've decided. I'm glad you've decided to do what Uncle Bunny wanted you to do. He loved you, and he only wanted what was best for you."

"He wasn't my real father, I don't care what my mother says."

"I don't know if he was or he wasn't. I do know your mother fucked him for more than thirty years. She must have liked him a lot better than you did."

"That's a lie!"

"Ask her. I'll let you apologize for calling me a liar, at my house, on Saturday, after you've eaten Emily's pussy. Bye, Brenda." I hung up the phone and wondered if I'd gone too far with Joyce. I'd been trying to shock and amuse her. I knew she was far too shy to have ever participated in a conversation like the one I'd just gotten through having with Brenda.

A couple of years before, Bea had told me several things when she was trying to teach me about girls. She said that many shy girls liked to live vicariously through the exploits of their more outgoing and promiscuous friends. She told me that almost all of the girls with bad reputations hung around with shy girls, girls just like Joyce. I got up from behind my desk and went over to Joyce's office.

"Are you okay, Joyce?"

She looked up at me and nodded, then put her head back down. I could see that she was struggling. I'd seen her like that before, when she had a lot of questions to ask, and was being forced to wait before she could ask them. She had so many questions, she didn't know how to begin asking them, or where to start. Because of the nature of the topic she wanted to discuss, she was uncertain about whether she should even ask me about any of it. I stood by her desk, waiting patiently for her to decide what she wanted to do.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you talk to me when you were on the phone? Now she knows I was listening."

"I didn't think it was a secret. Besides, I was only talking to her like that because I could see you were enjoying listening to us."

"I didn't think you'd let her know about me being there. Now, she's going to bother me like that Ellen did."

"She's going to Ohio in less than a week. Besides, Brenda isn't that way. She doesn't really care, not unless it is somehow important to what happens to her. To Brenda, you aren't even a real person. All she's interested in is herself."

"Is she going to do what you asked her to do?"

"She's going back to that school, and that was the only part that was really important."

"No, that other thing, the thing with that other girl. You know, what you said."

"Emily? I don't know. I think she probably will, because it would get her what she wants. At least she hopes it will."

"Will that other girl, Emily, will she let her do that to her?"

"That's a question I can confidently answer, Absolutely! Emily has a big crush on Brenda. She's already done that to Brenda, lots of times, but Brenda never did it back to her. Brenda has treated Emily bad in plenty of other ways too. She's done this because of what Emily told me about something that Brenda did once, behind my back."

"Do you really want to watch her doing what you told her to do with Emily?"

"Yes, I need to see it to make sure she does what I've told her to do. You can come watch her do it too, if you want to."

"I couldn't do that. I wouldn't even know how to act around them. I wouldn't know anyone there but you."

"Well, my father would probably be there, and you really should meet my mother. My father and I talk about you all the time at dinner, and I'm sure my mother would love to meet you. She would like you too. My Aunt and Uncle, Gerta and Hans would be there, and you'd like them. You can spend the night if you want to, we have a spare bedroom upstairs, and its really nice. There's a king size bed so you'd have lots of room to sleep."

"You don't mean your father would be there watching Brenda do that to Emily? You mean he'd be in the house, right? Would you be able to do that with those girls, if your parents were still at home?"

"Sure, my parents wouldn't care about what I was doing up in my own room. Besides, I have a good lock on my door. My mother likes Brenda so much, if I asked her to do it, she'd probably come in my room just to check, to make sure everything was going well. I've had both those girls in my bed before, but I only fucked Brenda. Emily let me eat her, but that's all we've done together. Even that was a long time ago."

"How can you talk about such private stuff with me? I've never talked to anybody like we're talking now."

"You asked me questions, Joyce. I figured you were finding it all pretty interesting. It really isn't such a big deal. You might like watching people have sex when everyone is a willing participant. Sex doesn't have to be cruel and vicious. It can actually be a lot of fun."

"I know that. I've had consensual sex. Mostly, I was curious to see two women doing that together. Have you ever seen two women having sex together?"

"Yes. We had these two girls who lived with us last summer, and I saw them doing it. I saw Emily licking Brenda once too. It isn't so much different than a guy and a girl doing it, except they both have pussies. Brenda's going to tell me tomorrow night if she'll do it with Emily or not. You're welcome to come over to visit this weekend, Joyce. You can come home with me on Friday night, and I'll drive you back to work on Monday."

"I haven't really had consensual sex, Kenny. I don't know why I told you that I had. I did have a boyfriend once though, in the tenth grade, but we never did that much. I don't think I'd want to be there if Brenda and Emily come over. Is Emily pretty too?"

"Sure, she's pretty, but not nearly as pretty as Brenda. You have to see Brenda to really understand what I told you before. She really is spectacular. She could be a movie star, easy."

"I'd see her and just be so envious of her looks."

"She should be the one to envy you. You can think circles around her. Brenda isn't very deep. I like you a lot better than I like her, as a person."

"She's the one your going to be having sex with though, because she's so beautiful."

"If you met her, you'd want to have sex with her too, she's really that beautiful. A lot of girls are attracted to her."

"How can you be so casual, talking like that about something like this? In my neighborhood, where I was raised, things about any kind of sex are kept very quiet. No one talks about it like you did on the telephone today. If I had ever heard my mother talking to my brother like you and your mom talked today, I'd have thought I was in some kind of a Twilight Zone."

"I figured that out when I was watching how you were reacting to my conversations. I could see that it wasn't like anything you were normally used to hearing. So, are you going to come to my house this weekend, or not?"

"Ask me again after Brenda tells you what she's going to do."

"Which way would you be more likely to come to my house, if she is going to be there with Emily, or if she isn't going to be there?" Joyce just shrugged her shoulders, indicating that she didn't know.

"Are you really going to do what you said if Brenda is doing what you asked her to do to Emily?"

"Fuck her you mean?" Joyce nodded that that was what she meant. "Did you want to watch me do that to Brenda?" This time, Joyce kept her head still, looking down at the papers on her desk. I could see the back of her neck, and it was a dark pink color, almost red. "I won't know what you want unless you get up the courage to tell me, Joyce. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, but you need to tell me what you want. I don't want to offend you, or to scare you away from me." She looked up at me when I said that. Her lower lip was trembling, and I could see she was emotionally charged by the tension inside her.

"Would you hate me if I said I did want to watch you do it?"

"No, not at all. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. Sometimes, I'm very inconsiderate of other peoples emotions. I have feelings for Brenda still, but a lot of those feelings are my unresolved anger with her. I'm trying to deal with some of those things, and it might make it seem like I'm being cold and unfeeling towards her, or even about sexual things in general. That's one of the ways I react to being under stress. I wouldn't mind if you wanted to watch what we did. Emily might object to it though, so I'd need to ask her about it. If she doesn't want to do anything with you watching, we could have her and Brenda do their thing first, and then, after Emily leaves, I could fuck Brenda, and you could watch us while we did it. Okay?"

"I kind of wanted to see Brenda doing that with Emily too, because it's hard for me to believe that a really beautiful girl would be willing to do that, especially, if she really didn't want to. I'm curious about how they'd do it too, but mostly I just wanted to see if she'd go through with doing it."

"I was thinking almost the same thing. I don't think Brenda will know herself if she's really going to do it or not. Not until she either does it, or finally decides not to."

"Do you think she will?" I thought about her question. There was a very good chance, in my opinion, that she would. I think she was half talked into doing it before we had finally hung up, earlier in the day. If she thought it would get her closer to her goal of seeing the two of us reconciled, I thought she would close her eyes and do whatever she thought she needed to do. For some strange reason, the thought of Joyce standing with me, watching Brenda eat Emily, was very exciting in its own right. Having her watching me fucking Brenda wasn't much of a turn on for me though. I wondered about that. I had this brief thought, one that just flashed into and out of my head, a thought about me having Brenda lick Joyce's pussy. My reaction to that thought was both strong and immediate. I had an erection straining inside the confines of my trousers. I wondered how much of what I was doing was because I was anxious to see Brenda humiliated? I felt a small shiver of fear passing through me. Was I in danger of becoming some kind of a sadist? If my enjoying this idea of having Brenda humiliated by making her lick Joyce was any indicator, then I guessed that I probably was. I hoped it was only a temporary aberration, and limited solely to Brenda.

"I think I could talk Brenda into doing almost anything I wanted her to do, Joyce. Is there anything you'd like me to have her do for you?" We stared at each other for a long time, neither of us saying anything more, or indicating in any way that we were embarking on something that neither of us would ever be able to explain to anyone else. I could see in Joyce's eyes the same thing I'd felt when I thought of having Brenda eating Joyce's pussy. It was a combination of fear and desire. I wondered whether either of us would be able to resist putting Brenda to the test. We stared at each other until I said good night to her and turned to head back to my office. She hadn't ever responded to my question, not with words.

I slept poorly that night. I had this terrible dream. It was a dream that involved angry mischief and murderous mayhem. In this dream, I could see that Brenda and her mother were coming after me, both of them carried pistols in their hands, and the looks on their faces betrayed the murderous intentions in their hearts. Every place I found where I wanted to hide, there would always be someone already hiding there, people I cared about, who I didn't want to see hurt. I'd leave them, but I kept hearing shots fired from every place I had found, and later, abandoned. There were screams of pain, and then braying waves of laughter from both Brenda and her mother. I had opened a hall closet in my dream, and had found Shirley hiding in there, a bloody screwdriver held tightly in her hand.

I woke up then, and it was only three thirty, but I knew that further sleep would elude me. I just laid there in my bed, uneasy, hoping fervently that Brenda would ultimately decide not agree to a rendezvous with Emily and me in my bedroom.

I worried also that I'd been responsible for unleashing some of these dark thoughts in Joyce's mind. I felt like I'd gotten involved in something that would prove to be a real test of the type of person I was starting to become.

I thought of my Uncle Bunny, and I knew he wouldn't have been happy to see how I'd behaved over the preceding few hours. I knew this wasn't the kind of behavior he expected from me when he decided to rescue me, or when he changed his will to make me his heir.

I felt very ashamed of how I'd mistreated the great gift he'd given to me. He'd given me so many choices, and here I was, taking his gifts and using them to exact a base and selfish measure of revenge against his only child. How wrong was it for me to indulge myself in these thoughts of sadistic pleasures?

I made a vow to myself that I'd quit acting that way, and I meant it. I was going to stop it right away, right after Joyce and I were finished up with Brenda.

I closed my eyes and imagined the way Brenda would act when I showed her what she had to do to get me to fuck her from behind. For the first time since Shirley had left, I managed to have an explosive ejaculation.

In my head, while I was nearing the culmination of my self induced orgasm, the face and body of the person I was fucking kept changing. In the end, through sheer force of my determination and will, Shirley's face and body dissolved in my thoughts, and Brenda's image took her place. I imagined myself slamming into her.

After I had finished cumming, I thought it might be a very good idea for me to seek out some professional help with whatever I was going through. I wasn't happy in any way with what seemed to be happening to me.



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Chapter 14

Wednesday morning, I got to work before seven o'clock. I would have gotten in earlier, but Gerta had seen that I was looking tired and upset when I came downstairs at a little after five o'clock. She made me sit down with her in the kitchen for a long conversation. Hans was there as well, and they both told me that they were starting to worry about me.

I didn't want to worry either of them, but, the past couple of weeks had taken its toll on me. I was trying to cope with everything as well as I could, but I was having difficulties with the mechanisms I was adopting to help me deal with my sense of loss.

"Part of this is because of Bunny, Kenny. Like Hans and me, you are suffering from his loss, but you are too busy with trying to take care of everything else to deal with that. When Shirley left, that was even more you had to cope with. Are you having problems at work also?"

"No, in fact, things are really starting to come around at work. I do miss Uncle Bunny though. I think I'm handling this thing with Shirley okay, probably better than you all expected. I had this really bad dream this morning, and that kept me from being able to get back to sleep."

"I keep some pills for your Mama, Kenny, from the doctor. They are to help her sleep when she isn't feeling too good. It is important that you get your rest."

"I'm worried that I'm doing things that will end up hurting people. It's like I'm mad at everyone that doesn't do what I want them to do. I'm really afraid about some of the things I'm thinking of doing. That isn't how I want to be acting. I think Uncle Bunny would be ashamed of me."

"Never! Don't even think that way, Kenny. He would never be ashamed of you, never. Who are you mad at, Shirley?"

"I'm not sure about if I'm mad at her or not. I'm mad at this girl, Ellen, and at Brenda Connor still. Maybe I'm a little mad at Shirley too, because she is one of the people that I've been thinking about not treating very well. Mostly though, its Brenda that I'm still mad at."

"Thinking is not the same as doing, Kenny. Sometimes, we have thoughts about revenge, but that is only our minds working off some of the angry feelings we have. It is like a safety valve. We don't really want to do those things, we just want to pretend we're going to do them, so that we can feel better, later, about not doing anything."

"Suppose I was really wanting to do those things?" Hans laughed when I said that, and he and Gerta had a conversation in rapid fire German. I couldn't understand any of it, because they were deliberately talking too fast for me to hear the individual words they were speaking. Whatever they were saying, Hans kept saying "Ja!", and Gerta kept yelling "Nein!" After a short time, all of us were laughing.

"Kenny, this bad thing you are wanting to do, it is with sex?" Hans had a way of always turning our conversations around to sex. "You are thinking of doing something with another girl?"

"It isn't really about sex, Hans. It's more about controlling someone, and humiliating them at the same time."

"This is Brenda?"

"She's the primary one, but I've had bad thoughts about Shirley, and some other girls too. It gets mixed up, but I'm pretty sure that Uncle Bunny wouldn't like what I've been thinking about." I really didn't want to get into talking about my specific thoughts with Hans. I knew he'd just try to encourage me to do those things. With Gerta, alone, I might have been able to discuss what I had been considering. I didn't like the way my having these thoughts and ideas was causing me problems already. I thought it would probably be a lot worse once I actually put any of my thoughts into action.

"Don't worry about any of this, Kenny. You're a very nice boy. You wouldn't really do anything to hurt somebody else. Hans is right in what he said. If it is something that is only sex, it doesn't hurt if you play games, or do some pretend stuff. Make sure that no one gets hurt though. Your Mama said that Brenda might be coming over here?"

"Did she? We've been discussing something, but I don't know for sure yet. She's the one I've been thinking about doing things to. Things that would be punishment for what she did to me before." I saw Hans nodding his head, like he'd been right all along. He barked out something in German again and Gerta blushed, and then sent a warm smile over to him.

"Hans thinks Brenda needs a good spanking. He has volunteered to hold her in place for you while you give her one. He is just a dirty old man, hoping to watch, that's all. Kenny, the important thing, the thing you must always remember, is to not do anything so bad that it would cause you to be ashamed of yourself. You have to be able to live with whatever you decide to do. It isn't such a bad thing, that you are feeling angry enough to wish to strike back at some people. Bunny needed to learn how to do that, but he never really stood up and hit back. Hans thinks he'd have lived longer if he had let loose with his anger more. I don't know. Bunny was Bunny, and I wouldn't have changed anything about him."

"He loved Brenda, Gerta, and he wouldn't want me to be doing any of what I've been thinking about doing with her." I had gotten into the crux of it with them now. I wasn't worried about Brenda, or about any of her feelings. I was concerned with how my late Uncle Bunny would have viewed what I was planning on doing. I felt bad too, because Mama had asked me to help Brenda, for Uncle Bunny's sake, and what I was planning on doing to her wasn't what I'd call helping her.

I was walking out my front door ten minutes later, and Hans was standing over by my car, carrying some hedge trimmers in his hand. He tried to act casual, but I knew he was there waiting for me.

"Bunny, he spanked that Georgia many times. She liked being spanked. Maybe her daughter is the same way, Kenny. Through all the years, that woman always behaved the best, right after getting a good spanking with one of Bunny's paddles."

"I wasn't thinking about spanking her, Hans. I was thinking about making her do sex stuff with people she didn't want to have sex with. Other girls."

"Well, I don't know too much about that kind of thing. If you want to try spanking her though, come see me first, because I have all of Bunny's paddles now. I took them from his house after he died. If you need my help, I can teach you about paddling. You don't want to hit too hard, but not too soft either."

"I don't think so, at least not any time soon. Did Uncle Bunny really punish Mrs. Connor?"

"Hah, yes, frequently. She was always doing things so that he had to. Bunny's father liked to paddle his women too. When you said control and humiliate before, this is what I thought you meant. Gerta says I am a dirty old man, and maybe she is right. I have learned though, women appreciate firmness in their men. If you aren't strong with them, they will walk all over you."

"Like how Gerta does with you?"

"In the kitchen, ja. In the bedroom, it is a much different thing. You have to be firm with them, sometimes. Not all the time. As long as they know you have some firm limits."

"I've got to go to work, Hans. I'll think about what you've told me. I can't really see myself spanking Brenda. I wouldn't feel comfortable with hurting her that way."

"The other way, maybe that is a worse hurt for her? She is still a very young girl. Perhaps you shouldn't change the way she feels about herself? I don't know what you mean when you say you want to humiliate her with girls."

"I've really got to go, Hans. Don't worry, I'm not even sure I'm going to do anything. I was considering some things, but I would be letting Brenda decide if she was willing to do them or not. I wasn't planning to force her."

"Bunny would sometimes ask for my advice. He knew he was too easygoing. In many ways, he admired people who weren't soft. His father was very strong, maybe too strong. Because of his father's strength, Bunny felt he was too weak. I thought he was strong where he needed to be, but never around women. He never enjoyed the paddling. If it were up to him, he wouldn't have done it."

"Who else could it be up to?"

"His father. It started because Senior paddled her for something. He only agreed to stop paddling her, when Bunny told him he'd do it himself."

I left the house, driving slowly towards Bolling. It was hard for me to form a picture of Uncle Bunny with a paddle in his hand. Strangely though, I could easily picture Mama with a paddle in hers. The other picture I had in my mind was of old Mr. Chalmers. From everything I'd heard, he was a fearsome man. In spite of that, or maybe because of it, the people who knew him expressed admiration for him. I was glad I hadn't known him. I think he would have scared me.

I had grown up thinking that Mother Superior was the scariest person in the world. In my world, she had been. From what I'd heard about him, Senior Chalmers was the scariest person in his world, and he seemed to have enjoyed being that. I wondered if Mother Superior enjoyed having people be afraid of her. She must have, because she never stopped being like she had been when I lived at the orphanage. I didn't know any kid that lived there that wasn't afraid of her. All the other nuns were leery of her as well.

-------

I was sitting at my desk, killing time, waiting for Joyce to come into work. I had been rehearsing what I was going to say to her. I wanted her to know that the activities of the day before hadn't committed her to any course of action, and that I didn't have any expectations of her, as far as any personal business like that. She had to understand that she was free to not participate at any time. I didn't want her feeling like she had to go along with anything because I was her boss and I expected it of her.

I believed I had understood her interest, but I wanted to make sure that she understood this was a purely voluntary activity as far as I was concerned. Just based on what happened to her when she was eleven, I thought she might have gotten some misconceptions about normal sexual behavior. She was pretty vulnerable too, because of her lack of personal experience.

When Uncle Bunny had rescued me, I'd been even more innocent than Joyce was. I had been curious, and Bea had helped me learn a lot of things very quickly. I didn't become like Bea was though. I took what she showed me and then I had kept only what I was comfortable with. Joyce was smarter than me, she wouldn't have any trouble with sorting out what was comfortable to her, or in determining what wasn't comfortable. I didn't want to be a corrupting influence on her.

She came in a little before eight o'clock, dropping her purse on her desk and coming right into my office. She sat down in that same side chair she'd sat in the day before.

"Did Brenda call you last night?" She didn't waste time with any preliminaries. She wanted to get right back into it, not even pausing to say hello, or to complain about the traffic, like she usually would. Joyce had become concerned with every small traffic incident, and it was because she now had that big, beautiful, Lincoln to worry about.

"No. She wasn't supposed to call me until tonight anyway. I already told Gerta that you were probably coming to spend the weekend with us. She wants to know what kind of foods you like. Gerta is a fabulous cook. I told her you like spicy foods, but I didn't know what your favorites might be."

"I don't really have any favorites. Whatever the rest of you like. What kind of clothes should I bring?" Like me, she took it as a given that she was going to be coming to the house for the weekend. I was relieved that this was already decided.

"We could go over to the country club to go swimming if you'd like, so you would need a bathing suit. There's a dance at the club on Saturday night. We could go to that too. That's pretty dressy. We dress a little bit for dinner too. Any kind of dress would be fine."

"I don't have any dressy clothes. They don't make too many really dressy things for people in my size. I have my confirmation dress, it still fits me, but it's fancy, like for a wedding, not really right for a dance. I don't dance anyway. I never learned. I can't swim either."

"I can't swim either. I can dance, but mostly, I just shuffle back and forth. It isn't that hard to learn. I know this dress shop my mother uses here in town, and they can make anything you want in your size. You show them the picture of any dress you like, and they take your measurements and make it for you. They can make it in a day or two."

"Is it expensive?"

"I don't know, but I have an expense account anyway. Dad will probably be talking about business whenever we eat together, so I think it's a legitimate business expense. We'll have them make two new dresses for you. We can go there at lunchtime if you want to. I'll drop you off and then I'll go over to the deli and get us some sandwiches while you're being fitted. Do you have a bathing suit?"

"Yes, but it isn't fancy."

"Mine isn't either. Just as long as it covers the important places. Gerta's going to be disappointed if I don't tell her a few of your favorite dishes though. She wants to make a good impression on you."

"Why would she want to do that?"

"Because you're a friend of mine, and because she's heard my father talking about how much you've done for the company. Same thing with Mama. In our house, people who help us to make more money, they are treated nice. Mama is going to love you. There aren't that many girls that my father raves about as far as their business abilities go. In fact, you and Virginia are the only two, unless you count some of the ladies that work at the plant. They aren't on the executive floor though. My father brags about very few people. My mother knows that, so she'll already know you're someone special, just from what my Dad has already said about you."

"I don't really believe you, Kenny. I haven't really done that much."

"You'll see. Tell me your favorite dessert at least. I can't go back to Gerta empty handed."

"I like strawberry shortcake, with really sweet strawberries, and real whipping cream. I like chicken and dumplings and I like anything with chocolate on it, or in it. Tell her that I don't want her to do anything special for me."

"I'll tell her, but it won't do any good. You'll see." I was anxious to talk to her about what had been troubling me, and what I was worried about as far as her participation went. With her sitting right there, I wasn't sure how I should begin. Did I just start talking about it? Should I ask her some questions first, and see if I could draw her out enough so I'd know where she stood about all of this? I was trying to decide how to begin, when she spoke up herself, and saved me the trouble of making that decision.

"I didn't sleep too good last night." She again had her head bent down, not looking at me when she spoke. This was a pattern that I later learned to recognize meant she was having doubts about herself.

"We don't have to do anything with Brenda. I wouldn't want to, not if it would bother you."

"No, that isn't it at all." She raised her head up when she said this. she looked and sounded like she was close to panic, wanting to correct my mistaken interpretation of what she'd said. "I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about everything we talked about. I'm not used to having all these exciting things going on when I'm anywhere around to see them. I didn't get out much when I was younger."

"I didn't get out either, but these past two years that I have gotten out, they've been pretty exciting for me. I did more in the first month after I left the orphanage, than I did in my whole lifetime before. I hadn't even really talked to any girls before, and then I met Bea, and she showed me a lot of things and told me about some more stuff. She was like my teacher about girls, and about doing stuff with them."

"I've wanted to learn things, but I didn't have anybody that wanted to teach me. I've seen movies though, and I've watched people at school and stuff, but I don't have much of my own actual experience. I have a good imagination though, and I read a lot. I know about a lot of things people do, but only from movies and books. The only real stuff I ever did was that one time when I was eleven. That time kind of made me not want to do anything else. It hurt me a lot, and it scared me too."

"You don't ever have to do anything, Joyce, that isn't what I was trying to make you think. I want to make sure that you understand that. I said things, but they were to get Brenda to make a decision, not to try to get you to participate. I didn't invite you to go home with me because I wanted you to do stuff with us. I thought you might find it interesting, and maybe you'd like to watch some of it, but I didn't want you to feel like anything was going to be expected of you. That bothered me last night, when I thought about it, because I was afraid you maybe felt like I was pressuring you to participate."

"Oh. I thought that's what you meant when you asked me that question about Brenda."

She looked and sounded disappointed when she said that. I had gotten the feeling from watching her face the day before, that she had gotten somewhat excited when I told her I thought I could get Brenda to do anything I wanted her to. I was worried that she thought I also meant I could get her to do anything too, but I didn't feel that way. I also didn't want her trying to do something because she thought it would please me.

"I meant it to let you know that you could include yourself, but only if that was what you wanted. If it would please you to have me see if Brenda would do something with you."

"I thought that was what you meant. That's what I was thinking about last night. About whether I wanted to see if you could make her do something or not. Do you remember when you asked me if I wanted a big car or a small one?"

"Yes, you wanted the biggest one. Your car is so big now, that you have trouble sitting in your seat, and still reaching the pedals."

"Yes, I got some pedal extenders now, but I love the size of it. Did you know I slept in the back seat the first night I brought the car home? I love that car, and its a symbol to me now. A symbol of all the changes I want to make in my life. I want to change almost everything. Mostly though, I want to make myself different than I have been. I want to stop being so afraid of everything. I've always been afraid of big people, of pretty women and handsome men. I'm afraid of whatever I'm not, and I don't want to be that way anymore. Everything I'm seeing and doing now is brand new to me. Like flying in that plane to Omaha, and sitting up front with Dick. He even let me steer the plane for a few minutes. I never dreamed I would be flying a plane myself. Working here for you, I've already done more than I have in the whole time I was growing up. That was all I was expecting or hoping for, business things, before you started talking to your mother yesterday. That is a whole different part of the changes I want to make."

"Maybe what I'm talking about with Brenda, that should be saved for later, after you've had a chance to learn a lot of other things first. You don't want to start out by trying to jump off a cliff, maybe you need to try climbing down slowly and carefully at first."

"But, I don't know how long I'll have the chances I have now. You're leaving here in early August, to go back to school. By myself, I won't ever get these kinds of opportunities. You probably get more opportunities in a week, than I'd get in five years. I'll never get a chance to meet people like you, Brenda, or Emily again. People with my looks don't usually get to hang out with the beautiful, rich, country club, crowd. Yesterday when you told Brenda you were going to use that three million dollars to help homely girls get plastic surgery? I was hoping you'd pick me as one of those girls. I was worried that you would think I was so bad looking that I couldn't even be helped by having the surgery. I've been hiding all my life, because I would have been excluded from things anyway because of my appearance. Hiding was a better choice than rejection. When you're nearly invisible to them, people aren't as likely to be hurtful to you."

"Joyce, I've noticed your appearance, but that was mostly in the beginning, before I got to know how good you were at working with me. I don't think about it too much anymore, just like I don't spend all of my time wondering how I look. I think I understand how your appearance could make a lot of things harder for you, but I'm pretty sure you could still have gotten more experience than you have."

"You think you know, but you don't. Your looks have always helped you. You don't have to think about it, because the consequences of looking like you do have all been good ones. Brenda has gotten by on her looks according to you, and she was so good looking she didn't even have to try to make people like her by treating them well. That's just the opposite of my experience. It may be mean of me to feel like this, but, just for awhile, I'd like to see the tables get turned around, where people who look like me get to lord it over the people who look like you and Brenda. It would be like my new car is, a symbol to me."

"We haven't done anything to you personally, Joyce. I haven't done anything to hurt you. I don't think I lorded it over you either."

"That isn't what I meant, Kenny. I meant that the same people always get the best of everything, because of how they look, or the money, or position their family has. For once, I'd like to see it all be reversed. Reversed so that I get to stand at the top of the mountain, instead of having to hide way down at the bottom, standing off somewhere in the shadows."

"That's what happened when we had you negotiating with Mrs. Taylor, Joyce. You were at the top of our mountain, even ahead of my father. You were put in charge of a very important negotiation. People don't just give others that kind of power easily, or for no reason. If you spend all your time and energy going around looking for every sleight or insult offered to you, you'll see plenty, but you might miss out on all the applause and the congratulations offered too, because you are only allowing yourself to be tuned into the bad parts."

"I enjoyed that time too, Kenny. It made me feel really good. I couldn't even begin to tell you how much fun I've had doing this job with you. Like I said though, it might be for just this one short time. I want to experience as much as I can, while I'm in a position to do it. This thing we were talking about, with Brenda and Emily? You have no idea of how great an impact it has had on me. It has been the highlight of my social lifetime already, and nothing has even happened yet. I've already gotten more sexual pleasure out of thinking about what might happen, than I've had from a lifetime of my other fantasies combined. Do you know why? Because this time, it could turn out to be real. I know how pathetic that makes my whole life sound, but it's true. I've got this picture of Brenda in my brain, and I can see her being made to do things that she hates doing. I see the pecking order being turned upside down, and I can see her being made to feel just like I'm used to feeling. Maybe its wrong, and disgusting, for me to get so much pleasure from thinking about her suffering like this, but I don't care. I really don't. She should have a chance to see what its been like for the rest of us. I'm so tired of having to sit back and envy people like her."

"What would you like me to have her do for you? What would make you stop envying her for her good looks?"

"How far are you willing to go to punish her?"

"I've been thinking about that too. I don't like the fact that I'm feeling like I want to hurt and humiliate her. I wish I didn't feel that way. It makes me think less of myself."

"Are you going to back out now?"

"You still haven't told me what you want. I told her she had to lick Emily's pussy, but that was mostly because she let Emily lick hers, and then never reciprocated. I thought it might teach her a lesson about being fair to people. I'm not sure why I want to humiliate her. I'm mad about what she did a long time ago. When I thought about having you there to watch her doing it, for some reason, it made it a lot more exciting for me. I think I wanted someone to share her being brought down with me. When I thought about making her lick your pussy too, it was an even stronger excitement. I'm not sure why it was."

I watched the different emotions playing over Joyce's face. When I was talking about her watching, her interest perked up, but when I said that about making Brenda lick her, I could see the jolt of her little body bristling with intense excitement. It was like a bolt of electrical energy had passed through her body. She raised up her head, and then stared straight into my eyes.

"That. If you could make her do that. I thought about that last night too." She wet her lips with her tongue, trying to keep her eyes focused on my face. Her hands were kneading at the fabric of her skirt, in a nervous attempt to find something substantial to hold on to. She finally lowered her gaze down to her hands, and to her lap. "That would really be something if you could make her do that."

"Another symbol, like your new car?"

"Better."

"Do you like girls that way?"

"No. At least I don't think I do. I've never thought about girls in that way. It would be just what you said, a symbol. A girl like Brenda, she would always just ignore my existence. Her ignoring me would be the best I could hope for. It's not about sex, it's about what she would represent to me. For her to do that to me, it would be the ultimate recognition from her that I was someone too. I have a lot of my own anger too."

"She wouldn't do that, not unless I gave her something that she wanted more than she hated the thought of eating your pussy. I'd have to fuck her, probably while she did that to you. Would that bother you?"

"No, I want you to fuck her. That would just make it even better."

"I'm wondering if you would still feel this way if I hadn't gone ahead and said the things I said on the phone yesterday. Have you always been angry at pretty girls or handsome boys?"

"I don't think it would have mattered. It was just having you say those things made me realize some things were really possible. If you did that, fucked Brenda, while she licked me, would you want to fuck me too?"

"Is that something you'd like me to do?"

"No. I've thought about that though, and for more than just a day. I know I'm not pretty, heck, I'm not even close to being even normal looking. Having you there fucking her, while she was licking on me, it would make me feel like we were all a part of it, and it would mean a lot to me, to just see you fucking one time, especially if you were doing it with someone who was pretty like Brenda."

"I'll be honest with you, Joyce, I'm not even sure that I'm going to go through with any of this. It depends a lot on how Brenda acts, and whether she's even willing to agree to anything. I don't want to put a lot of pressure on her to do any of this. One other possible problem I worry about is that I get different when I'm around her. I might start out having firm intentions to put her through this, but she has a way of getting me to change my mind about things. Sometimes, I end up only doing what she wants me to do. It might turn out to be like that again this time. I don't know. I'm also worried about starting something like this with her at all. Then, there's you to consider. I can see that us doing some things with Brenda might change the way we get along together. My Dad would really be mad if I did anything that made you not want to work here anymore."

"You told me yesterday that I needed to tell you what I wanted, so you'd know. This wasn't easy for me, Kenny, and I'm not used to doing that. I took a big chance, and I trusted you. Even if it never happens, I've told you what I'm thinking about and wanting. I don't think I'd change my mind about anything, but I already know that I wouldn't let you fuck me. I don't want to change the way you treat me either. I love the way you always try to make me feel good about the things we've done for the company. I also know you always try to give me too much credit. I never expected you to be attracted to me, and I wouldn't want you to do something because you feel sorry for me."

"Well, we need to do some work today before my Dad decides to fire the both of us. We both have a lot to think about, Joyce. I'm glad you told me what you wanted, and why you wanted it. A lot of what happens, like I said, depends on Brenda, and what she's willing to do."

At lunch time I took Joyce to the dress shop my mother used. I had called my mother earlier, at the golf academy, and had her phone over to the lady that owned the shop. She said she'd tell the lady what we needed, and tell her to put the dresses on her account. After I took Joyce in and introduced her, I drove over to the deli, and bought us two of their roast beef sandwiches. I got us a couple Cokes too, and when I got back to the dress shop, Joyce was just finishing up having all her measurements taken.

"They didn't even let me pick out the material I wanted, Kenny. They said your mother had already specified what she wanted. I don't know if I like her doing that."

"I bet you'll like what she chose. I just hope she didn't get your dresses made in the same style she likes. Most of her dresses end down at her ankles." Joyce really looked nervous when I told her that. We went over to a park close by and ate our sandwiches while leaning against a tree, watching two kids trying to get a home-made kite flying without any wind. They did a lot of running back and forth, trying to catch some wind though. They were still at it when we were finished eating and left.

I spent part of the afternoon down on the bakery floor watching John and Steve, from maintenance, replacing an oven door that had broken off one of it's hinges. It was faster and easier to replace the whole door first, then take it up to maintenance and weld on a new hinge. While I was watching them trying to get the broken door replaced, I noticed a new girl being trained on the large mixers. She looked young, probably somewhere around my age, and the reason I'd noticed her was that she was standing there listening to the supervisor telling her what she needed to do, and she kept putting one of her hands behind her, and rubbing her own butt. It caught my eye when I first saw it, and, when I saw her do the same thing again, not ten seconds later, I started watching her instead of the guys working on the oven door.

She would put her hand behind her, and then, starting from a few inches above her hips, she would run the flat of her left hand over the cheek of her left buttock. She moved the hand slowly, taking approximately five seconds for the journey. I'd never seen anything like it before. After about five minutes spent watching her, my curiosity was so great that I walked over there, just to the left of where the supervisor was standing. I stopped moving, and listened as he explained the different buttons needing to be pressed to pour the ingredients into the large bowl of the mixer. There was a cardboard sign right next to the mixers which showed the various ingredient codes to press when mixing the various products produced on that side of the building. There were only four codes listed for those mixers. The operator would look up the correct code for the ingredients, and then press that code sequence into the controller. Once the code was set, you pushed another button to start the delivery. I had learned how to operate those mixers in less than five minutes.

"Can I help you?" The question was being asked by the supervisor who was doing the training.

"Not really, I was just watching you instruct the young lady." I was smiling at both of them, I looked first at the supervisor, and then at the young lady. She had a dark blond hair color, and, from up close, she looked a little bit older than I'd originally thought. Perhaps, I thought, I'd change my estimate to nineteen or twenty years old. She had a pleasant face, not really that pretty, but what I would call interesting. There was a little different symmetry to her eyes, nose and mouth. I noticed it right away, but I didn't see right away why it was different.

"We're a little busy right now, if you'd please excuse us." He seemed pretty pompous for a fifty year old line supervisor. I wondered why I'd never noticed him on the line before. I was familiar with most of the regular supervisors. If not by name, then by sight.

"Are you new around here?" I asked him in an even tone of voice. He had been standing there, talking to the girl for at least fifteen minutes that I'd been aware of them, and they must have been there for some time before I noticed her.

"I'm Kenneth Venable, senior manager for new hiring, in the personnel department. Who are you?" The way he said it almost made me laugh. No wonder he was taking so long to explain how the mixer button worked, he'd probably never seen one before.

"I'm John, from the maintenance department. We got a complaint from oven six that some moron was mixing all the wrong ingredients for the coffee cakes. I just came over to check that the mixer buttons were working all right. These things cost us over eight thousand dollars apiece, and if someone sets them wrong, they can't usually be fixed. Have you been touching any of the buttons over there on the main console?" I pointed behind him, where I'd seen him leaning against the panel for the automatic rollers that moved the cooling breads over to packaging. I was taking a chance that Mr. Venable didn't know what it was he'd been parking his more than ample haunch against. "Are you checked out on the new specs for the D-9234A Mr. Venable? Some of these readings on that console are way off. If I have to shut down the line to take this baby apart, heads are going to roll."

He made a noise halfway between a wheeze and a gulp, and gestured with his left arm at the door leading over to the stairwell. He then looked over at the young girl he'd been training and croaked out something that sounded like "good luck", before making a hurried exit towards the stairs. She and I watched his retreating back until he disappeared from our view.

"Did he really break something?" She had a nice voice, not loud, but it carried well, down near the ovens, on what was always a rather noisy floor.

"No, but it looked like you needed rescuing from him anyway. I saw you signaling me, and I came over as soon as I could."

"I didn't signal you. I don't even know you, why would I signal you?"

"Oh, I saw you rubbing your butt. When people rub their butts down here on the baking floor, it means they need help."

"No, that's just a silly habit I have. It isn't any kind of a signal."

"Oh, I guess the laugh is on me then. Are you left handed?"

"Yes, how did you know that?" I put my left hand behind my back and made an exaggerated motion, like I was rubbing my own butt. She laughed at the facial expressions I was making while I did that. "I don't do that. Most of the time, I'm not even aware I'm doing it.

"What's your name? Is today your first day here?"

"My name is Helen, and I don't start officially until tomorrow. Mr. Venable was giving me an orientation tour, so that I'd have a better idea of what I'd be doing when I do get started. How long have you worked in maintenance, John?"

"Only about five minutes, and my name is Kenny. I only use John when I'm talking to people like Mr. Venable. Are you hired to work on this floor?"

"I'm only a temporary hire. I'm going to be filling in for people on vacation, or rather for the people who are filling in for the people taking vacations."

"Have you ever taken phone orders or worked as a receptionist?"

"No, but I answer the phone a lot at home, and I have good penmanship, and a good memory."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen, how old are you?"

"I'll be seventeen in exactly two weeks. I'm only working for the summer, then I'm going back for my senior year of high school."

"I graduated already, early last month. I'm waiting another year, before I make a decision about college. Why did you ask me about phone orders?"

"We need an extra person in the phone order room, and I'm supposed to find someone who'd be good doing that."

"You thought I might be good at taking orders?"

"No, I saw you rubbing your butt, and I thought you might like having a job where you spend most of your time sitting on it."

"That's funny. Are you sure you can go around moving people from one job to another?"

"I'm pretty sure I can. Would you like to see the phone rooms before you make up your mind?"

"I guess so. You aren't some kind of crazy person who wants to kidnap me are you?"

"Not this week. You aren't some kind of person that goes around rubbing other people's butts, are you?" She laughed.

"Only at parties, and only when I've had too much to drink. What school do you go to, not Bolling High?"

"No, I go to Clement Academy, over in Holton."

"I bet you don't go there. Do you know Daniel Carroll?"

I did know Daniel Carroll. In fact, he was in my building, "Joke Hall", and he was a year behind me. Some of the kids called him "Beam Me Up Snotty", because his nose was always running. He was one of the few guys, like me, who lived in the local area. I tried to think if I remembered where he was supposed to be from, but, if I'd ever known it, it wasn't coming to me right then.

"I know him. He's going to be a junior this year. He's about five seven, on the slim side, and he has dark blond hair, kind of the same color as yours."

"Do you know his nickname then?"

"Beam Me Up Snotty?"

"Yes, isn't that terrible? He has all those allergies, and the other boys still make fun of him. Do you call him by that name too."

"No. I don't think I've said more than about ten words to him in the last year. I didn't do too much socializing because the school is too hard for me to have much time for just hanging out with people."

"Danny's my little brother."

"Are you rich?"

"Scholarship. Danny's very smart. Are you on scholarship too?"

"No. My parents pay for me to go there."

"Are they rich?"

"Comfortable I guess, but they both work."

"I guess I can take a chance on you if you're a student at C.A. Where are the phone order rooms?"

"Upstairs, and over towards the back of the building. What is Daniel doing this summer?

"He went to visit with our real father, in Utah. He's in the Air Force, stationed at Hill AFB, near Ogden. Our parents got divorced, but my mom got remarried last year." She said that about her mother remarrying, like it was something she wasn't very happy about. While she talked, I led her over to the stairs, and up them. I took her the back way, through the lesser traveled corridors. I walked ahead of her so she wouldn't be too worried about being in all those empty corridors, with no one else around.

I was happy when we finally got to the phone rooms. I introduced Helen to Edith and to the rest of the phone room staff. I met Joyce's brother, Jack, for the first time also. Joyce had handled processing him in at personnel for me while I spent my time working on another list of questions from my father. I had to be quiet in the order room then, because one of their favorite soap operas was on, and most of them had their attention glued to the TV hanging up on the wall. Over in the regular phone room though it was business as usual, with two of the non soap opera loving order takers writing up new phone orders. As usual, Edith was handling the regular trunk traffic and re-routing inter-office phone calls. I still wasn't clear in my mind why my father resisted getting a more modern phone system installed. What we had was something more suited to the 1950's, not the mid '80's.

I stayed with Helen for about half an hour, letting her get the feel for the working atmosphere of the phone rooms, then I walked her out to the employee parking lot.

"You should have told me who you really were, Kenny Parsons. If I'd known you were the owner's son, I wouldn't have been so nervous when we walked through all those dark corridors."

"I was nervous too, you know. I can't tell you how many times I've been attacked walking around back there."

"You are such a liar! Did you have fun playing at being a regular employee?"

"I am a regular employee, and my father did ask me to get the phone room back up to full strength. I don't know what you think I lied to you about."

"Maybe you didn't lie, but you did mislead me."

"So, you think it would have been better if I'd worn a little beanie with "Owner's Son" printed in the front?"

"No, but you could have told me. Now I'm embarrassed."

"I don't see why. I'm glad it's just a habit with you. At first, I was afraid you might have one of those contagious rashes, and I was afraid we'd have to shut down the baking line."

You were not. Beside, I wasn't scratching it. Why were you checking out my butt anyway?"

"Another duty my father assigned to me. I probably spend a third of my day observing curious itches, rubs, and twitches from our employees. The girls aren't so bad, but some of the guys down on the loading dock are plain disgusting."

"Where do you want me to report tomorrow?"

"I guess that's up to you, Helen. You can stay doing the work they hired you for, or you can report to Edith in the morning to work the phones."

"Is the pay the same?"

"What are they paying you?"

"Three twenty five an hour."

"Wait just a darn minute. That's more than I'm getting. Are you sure they said that much?"

"I'm a high school graduate."

"Right. I had forgotten about that. Well, if they told you that much, then I guess that's how much you'll get. Which job are you going to take?"

"The phone rooms. Do I need to do anything, because they're expecting me to show up to learn mixing tomorrow?"

"No, I'll take care of it. Welcome to the company, Helen. Let me know if you need anything."

"Try to get the boys at your school to quit calling Danny that terrible nickname."

"Helen, it's an honor to be given a nickname at CA. He's lucky it was one of the nicer ones. Did he tell you the nickname of his room captain, Freddie Collier?"

"Would that be "Willie, the one nut wonder"?"

"Yes it would."

"What's your nickname?"

"I don't have one." I had hesitated just enough so that she knew I really did have one.

"I'm going to ask Danny, so you might as well tell me."

"Some of the guys call me "Lover Boy", but most of them just call me Kenny."

"Are you the guy who comes to school in a big limo, with two or three naked girls riding with you? I've heard about you from Danny."

"No, I drive my own car to school, and, before I got my license, when I did come in a limo a few times, I had two friends with me only that one time, and both of them had all their clothes on. One was my girlfriend, and the other one was her best friend. Nothing happened, despite all the exaggerated rumors."

"I don't believe you, Danny told me he saw the whole thing."

"Really? I thought last year was his first year at CA? This happened two years ago, early in my first year there, when I was in 10th grade. I don't know how he could claim to have been there to see it."

"Is it okay if I call you Lover Boy?"

"Only when I'm rubbing your butt for you."

"That's a deal, Lover Boy." She had stopped by her car and had turned so she was facing me. I reached a hand out slowly and placed it on her back, right above where she had started her hand, when I'd been watching her earlier. When she made no protest, I eased my hand slowly down over her left buttock. It felt as nice as I thought it might. I stopped on her lower cheek, and rested my palm there. "Are you finished, Lover Boy?"

As an answer to her, I slid my finger tips in between her thighs, moving very slowly, until she tightened her leg muscles, and was effectively denying me any further penetration. I had moved in closer as I did this, until my chest was right up against her nose. When she lifted her face, I bent down and kissed her. In a few seconds, I felt her responding to my kiss, and opening her mouth. When I started using my tongue, she relaxed her thighs, and I found my hand released, able to continue on with the exploratory journey. I only held the kiss for another few seconds, but in that time, I had reached the juncture between her thighs and my finger movement had caused her to react by pressing herself closer against me.

I stepped back, waiting while she opened her car door and sat down behind the wheel. She looked out at me from her place behind the wheel. She was smiling at me. "Thanks for the personal welcome Lover Boy. I'm sure I'm going to like working here." She started her car up and backed out of the visitors parking space. I waved to her as she drove off.

I was quickly building up quite a list of things I was going to have to confess to Shirley with my next phone call. I wasn't looking forward to that next conversation with her. I was pretty sure that at least part of what I was doing was getting myself comfortable with our changed relationship status. If it wasn't that, then I guess I was just one of those people who could resist everything but temptation.



-------

Chapter 15

I was home by five forty five, sitting in my bedroom, writing down some thoughts about my day. I was really waiting for Brenda to call me at six fifteen. The phone didn't ring though. At six forty five, Gerta called me to come down to dinner, and still there had been no phone call from Brenda. I was relieved in several ways, but disappointed in several other ways too. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I'd been looking forward to having sex with Brenda again. I'd already checked on my condom supply, several times.

I had been giving a lot of thought to the direction I had obviously been moving, this in reference to what Shirley and I had talked about. We had both said we needed to make a decision concerning our seeing other people during whatever time we were going to be apart. After what I'd done, in the employees parking lot, with Helen, my decision seemed to have been already made, and I'd acted upon it already.

Now, having decided, I could put an end to the thought of weeks or months spent worrying and fretting about it. It was done, and I'd decided not to try to spend those weeks, needlessly agonizing. I saw no benefit from either of us having to do that, not when the outcome was predetermined anyway. Why not just admit it, and then move on? That's what I had concluded.

There was a positive side to my more difficult dilemma. The real problem I'd been facing. By not calling me, Brenda had taken away some of the immediacy from the unsavory temptations I'd been facing. I was, temporarily at least, being protected from my own, possibly unhealthy, desires. On the negative side though, now I couldn't be sure whether I would have decided against doing those things on my own, or not.

I might have given in to my worst instincts. I knew I would have been sorely tempted to go through with it. My past actions with Brenda didn't lead me to having optimistic thoughts about being able to show the restraint required to voluntarily step away from this desire to punish and humiliate her. I found it unsettling that I needed her to do something she didn't want to do in order to justify my being willing to fuck her again. That was the kind of convoluted thinking I'd expect to be coming from Brenda. I wondered if I'd feel better about the situation with Brenda if I scuttled this whole idea of her eating Emily, and just admitted I wanted to fuck Brenda again.

At seven thirty, Joyce called me. She told me she had been too nervous to wait until the next morning to find out whether Brenda had agreed to my demands or not. When I told her that Brenda hadn't called me, I could sense her disappointment. I thought I had to say something encouraging, just to cheer her up.

"Brenda likes to play games, Joyce. She's probably just trying to out wait me, so that she can get me to make her a better deal. I bet she'll call me later tonight, or tomorrow, sometime."

"Suppose she doesn't call you?"

"Well, I left that up to her. She has the right to decide whether she wants to pay my price or not. In a way, I'll be relieved if she decides not to call me."

"What about what you said I could do? I'm not relieved. I was expecting that this was really going to happen. You told me you could get Brenda to do anything you wanted her to do. What's happened to change that?"

"Brenda did tell me that she'd grown up, that she'd matured. Maybe she actually meant it. If so, that's a good thing."

"So, I'm going to miss out on probably my only chance? Is that what you're telling me, Kenny?"

"Well, when you put it like that, I guess, it looks like that is what might be happening. I haven't given up on Brenda calling though. If I had to bet, I'd bet that she'd be calling soon."

"Will you call me if she does call?"

"If you want me to. What time is too late to call you?"

"I guess any time up to ten o'clock. I'm sorry I got upset with you, Kenny. Its because I have been thinking about it like it was something pretty definite. That's how you made it sound."

"I have another friend, Joyce, she's very pretty too, and she would do almost anything I wanted her to. She's about twenty one years old now, but she's going to be leaving the area soon. I could try to call her for you, if Brenda doesn't call me."

"Is she another one of your ex girlfriends?"

"She was the first girl I ever had sex with. She's really good too. She is a professional, she has sex for a living, and she really knows a lot about it."

"You mean she's a whore?"

"That's what some people would call her, but she's also a professional at knowing about sex. I never found any question about it that she couldn't answer. She isn't just some girl who lets guys screw her, she knows all about it. She's studied it."

"You already got me excited thinking about Brenda. It wouldn't be the same, not if it was with someone who was being paid to do it. I sure hope she calls you tonight."

At eight twenty, Brenda did call. She started by explaining that her father had been sitting right by the phones, waiting for an important call to come in. I didn't really believe her, but we both knew it didn't matter if I believed her or not. The fact that she'd called was what was important.

Right away, Brenda started in, trying to negotiate a better deal for herself. The more she tried to get me to sweeten my offer to her, the less I worried about having her do the things I'd demanded she do. To me, this was the same old Brenda, willing to use her appeal to get what she wanted. I let her go on for several minutes before I finally stopped her.

"Brenda, stop talking for a minute. You keep telling me what you'd like, but that isn't important to me. Did you decide yes, or did you decide no, about licking Emily's pussy until she cums?"

"I was just trying to tell you what I wanted, Kenny. Wouldn't it be better for all of us, if we all got what we wanted?"

"I'm only interested in getting what I want this time, Brenda. What you want isn't important to me. I thought I'd made that clear to you."

"Can't you get everything you want, just with the two of us? I remember before, when we were alone in your room, and we both got what we wanted then."

"You keep conveniently forgetting something, Brenda. We aren't all even yet. You still have to make it up to Emily, and to me, for what you made happen to us before. We aren't ever going to go back to how things used to be. You need to repair the damage that was done to us by your earlier actions. If you do that, then we'll be all even and I won't be angry with you anymore. You keep trying to find a way around having to do that, but, there isn't any way. I told you exactly what it would take to get me to forgive you. You need to do enough to make me willing to fuck you again."

"Why does it have to be with Emily? Can't you think of another way? I wouldn't mind doing what you want as much if it just wasn't with her. It was because of the way she was acting that I did that with Gary anyway. If you think about it the right way, what happened with Gary was more her fault than mine."

"I can see that you haven't changed, so we don't really have anything more to talk about. You don't want to do what I asked, and that's all right. I was trying to get things settled between us, before you went away again. I thought it might be better for all of us, just in case that school you'll be going to really does help to change you. Even with everything that's happened, I still have some feelings for you. I want you to learn how to live better. People all say this school can help you learn to do that. I was willing to try to get all of us even before you go, and then wait to see if going to that school helps you or not."

"I still haven't decided for sure that I'm going back there. That was one of the reasons I thought we should get together and talk about it. I don't understand why I can't stay here and still get my money. If you'd stop being so mean to me, I'd change, and I wouldn't have to leave here to do that."

"I don't want to talk about that. You can decide to go, or not to go. Its your decision, but that's a lot of money. This other thing, with Emily, it was just a way for you to clear up some old business that you should want to make better already. I was trying to give you the incentive you needed to want to make things better with Emily. Emily and I, we don't have anything to do with your decision about going to that school. As far as this other thing with Emily, you were supposed to call me to tell me either yes or no. I didn't offer to let you negotiate for what you wanted."

"You aren't the only boy I know, Kenny. I don't need to do whatever you tell me to do."

"That's true. Believe me when I tell you that you've taught me that I'm not the only boy you know. I guess your answer is no then? Was there anything else?"

"I didn't say no. I said I would rather it wasn't Emily. Why does everything have to be the way you want it? Why don't you let me choose the girl?"

"I already said it has to be Emily. For me, this is about Emily, and about you making up to her for how you've been treating her. I'm tired of arguing with you about this, Brenda. I don't think either of us is going to change our minds. I know I'm not going to."

"Even if I said I'd do it, suppose she decides to be difficult, or tries not to let me make her cum? If that happens, then I went through all of this for nothing. I should get something if that happens."

"That's so funny, Brenda. I've been worried that she's going to cum as soon as you run your tongue through her pussy. She cums pretty easy, you know. That's the way I remember it. She has such a crush on you, she'll probably will be dripping wet before you even get a chance to touch her."

"Do you promise that you'll take care of me if I do this thing with Emily for you?"

"No, I don't promise. I said I might, because it would get me hot seeing you naked and doing that to her. There's this other problem I have now with my assistant, Joyce. She heard the two of us talking about Emily, and now, she wants you to lick her pussy while I'm fucking you. She told me that it was a fantasy of hers, to do that. I thought you could fix things with Emily first, and then, after Emily leaves, you and I could give Joyce what she's been thinking about."

"I don't even know her. It's going to take all the will power I have just to do that to Emily. You never said anything about this other girl. It wasn't what you asked me to decide about, and I'm not going to do it."

"I understand. You're right, it isn't what I asked you to do. I guess she could just watch while you're licking Emily. Seeing you doing that is like her second best fantasy. She told me she wanted to watch you licking Emily anyway."

"I know what you're doing now. You're trying to get me to say no, then you won't have to take the blame for disappointing Emily, and this other girl."

"I'll give you Joyce's number. You can call her yourself. Tell her its all my fault. Tell her whatever you want, I don't care. I don't mind taking the blame for this not happening. This has been more trouble than I thought it would be. Maybe that's because it was a bad idea, right from the beginning. Let's just forget about it. I'm really going to be rooting for you to get the help you need at that school."

"Why is it you think I need help, Kenny? I can't understand that, because I haven't done that much. What I did do wasn't any worse than what a lot of girls I know have done. I have a bad temper, like my father, and I do things without thinking, when I'm mad. I didn't really do much that was that bad, only a couple of things. I was almost totally innocent, up until I got involved with you. If you hadn't made me love you, I'd probably still be pretty innocent."

"Brenda, I'm sure you believe that what you're saying is true. The problem is, none of what you believe matters much to me. It doesn't matter how innocent you think you are, or how you think you measure up when you compare what you've done with what other girls have done. What matters is that I can't love someone who has done the things you've done. It makes it worse when you do all these bad things, and then claim to be the innocent victim. It never seems to be you that's at fault for any of the things that happen around you. Well, whether you accept the blame or not, it hurt when you decided you were mad at me, and that you needed to go fuck someone else, in order to get even for it. It also hurt me when you decided you needed to go fuck Emily's little brother, a bunch of times, because you thought it might help keep Emily away from you."

"You keep saying I did that to hurt you, and I didn't. It was what I used to keep Emily from bothering me."

"You need to be truthful with yourself, Brenda. As long as you keep lying to yourself, or blaming other people for your bad decisions, you aren't going to really be motivated to make any of the changes you need to make. You do need to change, if you ever want to be able to lead a normal life. Maybe you don't need to be happy, or even normal, but you do need to be different than you are. The way you're going now, your life is going to be one endless series of disappointments. You can't get what you say you want, not the way you've been going about it."

I let her talk for the next ten minutes, but it was the same Brenda, and she was still trying to get me back to making a better bargain with her. I was feeling tired, and a little bit depressed about everything. Even if I hadn't gone through with it, I'd had the idea, and it had been exciting to me. I knew you couldn't improve the way other people behave by sinking down to their level. I was ashamed of what I'd almost done.

I called Joyce, right after, and filled her in on my change of heart. At her request, I told her the highlights of my conversation with Brenda. I was pleasantly surprised when she laughed at herself, at the way she'd been looking forward to seeing Brenda humbled. She told me she had gotten carried away with the possibilities of such an unusual situation. I told her there would be other, healthier excitements, in her life, and I promised her that I'd keep my eyes open for something that would appeal to her.

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Joyce was still planning on coming over to my house for the weekend. We had planned on spending Saturday out at the country club, swimming, and hanging around by the pool. Saturday night, we were planning on going over to the club for the dance. I told Joyce that either Emily or Brenda might show up at the club, either for the swimming, during the day, or for the dance in the evening. I called over to my Aunt's house, to talk to Bea about coming to the pool with us, but Aunt Clara told me that Bea had taken off the day before. She told me that Bea hadn't left her with any forwarding address, but she thought she might be heading back out to California. I had wanted Joyce to meet Bea, to see for herself that she was a lot more than a common whore. Bea could have talked with Joyce and answered whatever questions she had about sex.

Joyce and I drove home together, in separate cars, on Friday afternoon. When she saw the house, she went into near shock. I took her up and showed her the room, my old bedroom, where she'd be staying. She started kidding around, claiming that she was a squatter, and that she wasn't leaving until we got a court order to evict her. I showed her the bathroom, with that big Jacuzzi tub, and she was fascinated by it. I told her about how that tub was one of the favorite places for Jane and Grace when they had lived in the room.

"Joyce, I found out from my mother that Brenda's parents are throwing her a going away party tomorrow night, at their house. She won't be coming to the dance, but you still might be able to see her over at the pool tomorrow, if she comes there."

"That would be great. What about Emily? Will she be at the dance?"

"I don't know. Her parents come to a lot of the dances, and they usually bring Emily and Gary along when they come."

"I'd like to see her too. Do you think Brenda will know who I am? You said you told her about me."

"I told her your name, I didn't describe you to her. We could have some fun if you want to. I could introduce you as my new girlfriend. We could make up a name for you, and make up a story about how we met. I bet Mama would go along with it too, in case Brenda or her mom called her. She likes things like that. The problem is that Brenda has a temper, and she can get very jealous. She beat up Emily once, just because I was going to dance with her."

"Do you really mean it? That would be so great. I don't think she'd believe it, but I'd love to see the look on her face when you tell her I'm your girlfriend, especially after she sees what I look like. Please, can we do that?"

"I'll try to protect you, but she might throw something at you, or try to hurt you some other way. She really does have a temper."

"Get out of here, Kenny. I need to pee. See what you did? You got me so excited, I'm almost going to pee in my pants. She was already undoing her jeans button and pulling her zipper down, before I reacted to what she'd said, and left her to her privacy. Before I even got the bathroom door shut, I heard her splashing the toilet bowl as she peed. I had to smile. In many way, and not just because of her size, Joyce reminded me of a ten year old girl. She was mature in many things too, so she was intriguing, because you never were sure which Joyce you were going to be dealing with.

I knew I had to show Mama the ten year old side of Joyce. After all her years of being denied motherhood, there was simply no way Mama could resist the childlike innocence that Joyce sometimes showed. If Mama took Joyce under her protective wing, I knew her life, like mine had, would take a rapid turn for the better.

There were so many things that Joyce could do to improve her appearance, but, being a man, I couldn't get comfortable with bringing them up to her. It was natural for women to discuss those things among themselves. Joyce told me once that she had stopped growing or developing when she was eleven, at about the time she was raped by those two men. She claimed to still have several of her baby teeth, but I didn't know how that could still be possible, not at nineteen years of age.

I had never heard of something being so traumatic that it stopped someone from growing up. I had to admit though, that Joyce looked a lot like an eleven year old. I wondered if she even had her periods yet. She had slim hips, no breasts at all, and I'd already mentioned about her teeth. I'd let Mama see about those things.

As I'd expected, Mama went absolutely crazy over Joyce. At dinner, the two of them talked as though they were the only two people at the table. After dinner, Mama took Joyce up to her room and showed her the new dresses that had been delivered to our house earlier in the day. There were five new dresses, that's what Mama had ordered for her, and that's also why Mama had picked out the material herself. I didn't see either of them again until around nine o'clock. Mama led Joyce down the stairs, all dressed up in one of her new dresses, with make up on, and with her bowl shaped hair teased, and heavily sprayed so it sat down on her scalp. Her hair looked like one of those old time flapper hairdos from back in the twenties. It was the kind of styling that you saw in those Roaring 20's period movies on the television.

The change was pretty remarkable, but not as remarkable as the fact that Joyce had somehow sprouted breasts. They weren't real, but, they looked real. Apparently Mama had talked to the dress lady, and she had been told that Joyce had nothing on top for her to work with. Mama had the dress lady go out and get one of those special bras, the ones that come already filled with instant boobs. It made a big difference.

I'd never seen Joyce looking so nervous or so fragile. She looked like she was ready to run right out of the house, if I laughed at her, or managed to say something stupid.

"Wow, Joyce, you really look great! I see that there's somethings different, but I can't quite put my finger on it." When I said that to her, I was moving closer to her, my hands out in front, acting like I was going to grab both her boobs with them. I was also giving my best impression of someone who was leering at her. I only hoped I looked like a real villain would. We both started laughing then. "You look fantastic. Is this what you're going to be wearing tomorrow?" Mama answered my question for her.

"Oh, no, Kenny, this is just a little cocktail dress. Tomorrow night, we're both wearing our ball gowns. You men are going to have to put your best foot forward, if you want to have any hope at all of keeping up with us."

Dad was in his study, but Mama went over and opened the door, without even bothering to knock, and presented the dressed up Joyce for his viewing pleasure. Like me, Dad was up to the occasion, and complimented Joyce and Mama, on making such a beautiful transformation. Joyce looked pleased and excited to be the focus of so much attention, and for the acceptance and approval she was seeing from all of us.

She knew it was just a dress up game, and that we had liked her just as much, when she walked in the house wearing her shirt and jeans. I knew that Mama would stress this to her. Mama would also explain that, like her, Joyce had to make the most of what she had been given, and to do the best she could manage with her whole package, including her brains and her ability to work hard. Mama was very practical about looks. Like Joyce, she envied the better looking women who had so many things so easy.

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I locked the door to my bedroom that Friday night. I didn't think Joyce would try to sneak in, but I was being cautious anyway. We'd stayed up until eleven o'clock, and Joyce and I had spent the last hour of it in the kitchen with Hans and Gerta. We had laughed a lot, and Hans made up exaggerated stories about how little I had known when they had first met me. I stayed mostly quiet as I listened to the three of them talking, but I didn't miss Hans and Gerta's love for me, or their pride in my small achievements that came shining through as they both spoke about me to Joyce. I was starting to see that they had begun to transfer to me, some of the great love and affection they'd had for Uncle Bunny. He was no longer around for them to talk about with the pride of being somewhat responsible for how he had turned out. I was there now, and they were going to treat me the same way. It meant a lot to me, and I needed to give both of them my warmest, and most heartfelt hugs, when it was time for Joyce and I to get to bed. For Gerta that was a normal enough occurrence, me hugging her. For Hans, it was an unusual thing, but he too seemed to welcome my embrace.

In the morning, instead of us going swimming, like we had planned on doing, Mama and Joyce left together on a rather mysterious mission. All Mama would tell me was that I was free to fend for myself until at least five o'clock. Mama suggested that I take my Dad to go out and play a round of golf. I had the devil of a time prying him loose from his study, but when I told him I'd play him for a hundred dollar Nassau, and that I only needed two strokes a side, he couldn't resist the challenge.

We drove over to the club before ten o'clock. There was a new pro in charge now, replacing Dave, who had gone to work for my mother. He was acting as the starter when we got there, introducing himself to the members in that way. We were given a quick starting time after Dad told him our names, but we were still playing behind at least four slow foursomes who went out ahead of us, so we knew we were looking at a slow round of golf.

We teed off quickly at the first hole, but then had to wait until the green cleared ahead of us, before we could hit our second shots. While we were waiting to hit, my Dad started telling me about an idea he was working on.

"Let me tell you about an idea I've been working on, Kenny. It came to me as a result of that idea Joyce had about parking freight cars, and storing things near the distribution centers."

It took us five and a half hours to play eighteen holes of golf. Normally, that would have strained my father's patience to the point where he might have quit at about the fifth hole. Not this time. The longer we waited, the more time we had to discuss and modify his idea. When the round was over, both of us felt like it had gone by too quickly. We had discussed my Dad's idea and added plenty of refinements to it, until, at the end, we both thought we'd perfected it to its fullest.

It involved making radical changes to the way we were opening up our new vending territories. Our current way was proving itself to be neither cost effective or efficient. We were going into a new territory with teams of from ten to twenty salespeople, and trying to make a one sales call close. In the process, we either placed one or more of our machines, or we burned up the lead by using up all the sales tactics to make as many possible closing attempts as we could.

A lead was considered burned up, because, when our salesman left the prospect, there was nothing that hadn't been tried. When you have only one shot at the sale, you aren't concerned about leaving the way open for call backs. Sometimes, that extra pressure being exerted, trying to make the placement, ended up making the prospect angry, and unhappy with the sales pressure being applied.

This was the sales technique we'd inherited when we bought the Lucas Company, because it was the one that Rob used, and we'd gone with his expertise when we'd bought him out. My father wasn't happy with these high pressure sales tactics, but he knew he needed Rob for other things, like putting people in place to service all the vending routes. There, my father was convinced that Rob had no equal.

One of the reasons why Ron Jones had quit, Dad believed, was that he felt uncomfortable with training high pressure salespeople. He thought that was the old style of selling. Now, he believed, salespeople should work with their customers, demonstrating to the customer that it made good sense for him to use our product in his operation. It was more a case of selling service and customer satisfaction.

Rob pointed out that, once his machines were in place, he had better retention numbers than his competitors. He said this meant they were satisfied with what they'd been sold, even if they might have objected to the way it was sold to them. This was true, and it spoke well of the customer service and good aftercare that Rob had in place for the vending routes. Dad didn't want to lose that aspect of Rob's expertise. Dad did feel that there was a lot of room to improve the way the vending machines were being placed.

The new plan called for sending out two salespeople to open up a new territory, instead of having large teams swarming an area. These two salesmen would work with one trained route deliveryman. The route driver would arrive with his own delivery van, within a week of the salesman starting to solicit new placements. Everything the route driver needed would be supplied through the nearest rail yard. The salesmen would canvass the area and open up new placements for the route guy to service.

Machines for the route would be delivered by rail car too, and Dad would willingly pay to lease space for two rail cars, permanently, at each location we were using. The rail cars themselves would be the office for the route delivery guys. Each salesman would have his own company car, and be set up with adequate geographical territory so that he could keep coming back to work new leads, and to make calls on the old ones who hadn't yet decided to place our machines in their location.

As soon as the route got to be too big for one route delivery driver, another would be hired and trained, and the route would be divided into two equal parts. This would keep on happening until the territory was completely built out. Any problems with the machines, and they would be replaced from the on site inventory, then sent back in one of the empty rail cars being returned to Omaha. It would be repaired and refurbished, then reintroduced back into service.

With Dad's plan, instead of being limited to areas that could support a team of ten or twenty salespeople, all blitzing through that one area, we could send out these smaller teams, and we weren't limiting our presence to the larger metropolitan areas, places where traditionally, the competition was the stiffest. We would establish our presence all around the country, expanding out until all our territories were full, and overlapping, with other territories on every side.

All we needed to get started was a rail yard, two rail cars, and three trained people who'd be acting as the initial sales and service presence. It was neat, simple, and, most importantly, it assured us we wouldn't get shut out from operating our vending business in any part of the country. Getting shut out was the one thing my father had been most afraid of. He would rather have a smaller national presence, than a larger, regional presence. Geographical diversity was important to us.

We also discussed how he was going to be sending out our retail sales teams, opening up the stores in these areas, looking to expand our core businesses, now that he had the perfect, inexpensive, storage facilities available for his use.

I beat him outright at golf that day, firing an eighty one to his eighty four, so my net worth increased by another three hundred dollars. I noticed this time my Dad paid me without any squawking about it. We both knew that his new ideas were going to allow us to coin money hand over fist. We were heading for an expansion far greater than any he'd envisioned in his previous plans. The key advantage to it, was that since we weren't needing to set up expensive offices and warehouses, our expansion would be financed one hundred per cent through our then current earnings. We wouldn't have to borrow a penny. This fact alone gave us a huge advantage over our competition.

"We owe Joyce for this idea too, Kenny. Without her original ideas, none of this would have been possible. What should we do for her?"

My Dad had really surprised me by recognizing, right away, Joyce's tremendous contribution to his idea. I liked that this had become a part of his thinking so readily. Joyce had opened up so many exciting possibilities. I would have been difficult to exaggerate her contribution.

"Maybe we should buy her a house of her own? She told me that she really hates living at home. I guess her parents aren't nice to her. It bothers her to have to do what they tell her to do."

"I was thinking about what might happen if we offered her your old bedroom, Kenny. Bertie seems to have taken a real liking to Joyce too, and, this way, she would have a little girl around that she could dress up and do things with." I listened to what my Dad was saying. This was very unusual for him. This was more than him simply rewarding a terrific employee. This had to be much more personal. He normally was remote and standoffish with people.

"You like her a lot too, don't you Dad? Maybe you'd like to be her Dad too? If you do, I sure wouldn't mind. I wouldn't mind having her as my older sister. Is that what you're thinking?"

"I hadn't planned things that far ahead. There's one thing I do know though, and that's that, together, we make a formidable team. Kenny, with the four of us working together on things, there's no one out there who could even come close to us now. We could really grow the business over the next twenty years. I told you that good people are always the key to having a successful business. Well, I'm learning the same thing is true for a family. We need Joyce, now that she's proven what she's capable of, and you must know she'd be a lot better off if she was staying with us too. We have to let her decide though. If she wants to be independent, tell her we'll buy her a nice house, wherever she chooses to live. Hell, maybe you should give her Bunny's old house. None of us are doing anything with it."

"I was planning on moving into it when I'm finished with my schooling. I've got Hans looking after it for me now. He's keeping everything up, and Mr. Clooney is taking care of the utilities and the taxes. I don't want to give her that house, I've got plans for it. Let's just buy her a new house, if she decides to get her own house, instead of staying with us.

When Mama and Joyce got back home, we found out that Mama had taken her to an orthodontist. Joyce was going to need oral surgery, and then three years of braces. Mama had already signed her up for everything. They had also bought two wigs each, and told us they were each going to be wearing one at the dance.

We had an early dinner, and Dad explained his idea for creating new routes to Mama and Joyce. Fortunately, since we were no longer trying to tweak it, it only took him about half an hour to explain how the new plans would work. I could see, by the look in Mama's eyes, that she was looking ahead, to all those wonderful new profits we'd be making from this idea. I had a strong suspicion that my Dad was in for a lot of hip bumping before the night was over. Dad had mentioned, several times, as he was telling about the new idea, that he owed it all to Joyce's earlier ideas and discoveries.

"So, that's the idea. Kenny and I were talking about some other things earlier, and we both realized how much we owe all these new opportunities to you, Joyce. We wanted to do something to show you how much we appreciated it, and how much we appreciate having you working with us. I asked Kenny for some ideas about how we could show you our appreciation, and his first suggestion was that we buy you a new house, just for yourself." Joyce let loose with an excited squeal, and clapped her hands together, unable to disguise her absolute glee. I noticed Mama watching her, and I knew how young Joyce looked in Mama's eyes, as she watched her reacting like that. "We thought some more about it though, and we both thought about that nice big bedroom upstairs, one that nobody's been using ever since the girls moved out of it to go off to school. We were both hoping that you might decide that you'd rather live here with us, Joyce. You could ride to work with us, or drive there in that big boat of yours, but you wouldn't have to clean up here, and you already know how Gerta can cook, and how well Hans looks after us. I know that Bertie, Kenny and I would love to have you living here with us. You can decide for yourself though. If you do decide to stay with us, we'll just put the money for a new house into your bank account, so if you change your mind about it later, you won't have lost out on anything by deciding to try living here with us."

We didn't get her answer right away, because Joyce simply collapsed right there at the dinner table. Mama got to her first, and the two of them enjoyed a nice long cry together. I wasn't crying myself, and neither was my father. We had both turned away from Mama and Joyce at the same time, so they wouldn't see us not crying. I went up to my bedroom to finish my not crying, and my Dad went into his study, for awhile, to finish with his.

Later, we went to the country club dance, our first official act as a new family of four. Mama and I introduced Joyce to everyone as my sister and her daughter. Joyce danced with both me and Dad, coming up to just slightly above our cummerbunds. We had broken out the tuxedos, so that we would look at least half as good as the ladies did. Hans took us there in the limo, and came back for us at twelve o'clock, when the dance was over.

Emily and her family were at the dance, and I introduced her to Joyce. I spent a few minutes speaking with Gary. He had continued growing, and he told me he was somewhere around six seven. He wasn't even fifteen years old yet. He came over later, and asked Joyce to dance with him. They looked hilarious dancing together. When Emily came over to ask me to dance with her the next dance, I accepted, and we stepped out on the dance floor for a slow dance.

"Have you seen Brenda?" Brenda was never far from Emily's thoughts it seemed.

"No, but we've spoken several times on the telephone. I think she's mad at me again though."

"What did you say to her this time?"

"I'm not sure you want to know that. It concerned you too."

"Me? She never even looks at me anymore. Every time I saw her in school, her back was turned to me. She hates me."

"Well, she might still be a little mad at you, but, as a matter of fact, she told me she would be willing to lick your pussy, if I would fuck her while she did it. She even said she'd do it until you had an orgasm." I felt her stiffen in my arms.

"You're lying to me."

"Nope, I'm not, but, the deal fell through anyway. I decided I didn't want to get involved in more stuff with her. I was mad at her and someone else, but I didn't want to do that to take away my anger." I felt Emily's fist punching me in my lower stomach. It didn't hurt, but a little bit lower and it would have.

"She didn't just volunteer to do that."

"No, in fact, she told me she really didn't want to do it. I told her that was the only way I'd even consider forgiving her. I think she owes you a good pussy licking, after all the ones you gave her."

"Why did she say she'd do it?"

"You know Brenda. She has to have whatever she decides she wants and can't have. Right now, that's me. I think she believes if she can just get me to fuck her again, I'll forget about all the bad things, and just want to love her again."

"Is she right?"

"I don't know. I hope not, but you know how Brenda can effect people."

"God yes. I wish I didn't know. I'm dripping right now, thanks to what you've told me."

"Don't feel bad, that's a normal reaction for girls dancing with me. With slow dances, most girls leave a big, wet, puddle on the dance floor."

"Kenny, don't you ever want to just stop and tell the truth for a change?"

"No, because the truth isn't as much fun as telling these lies. I told you about Brenda for a reason, and it wasn't to make you wet. I wanted you to know I was thinking about all the things that happened in the past, and I know we all made some mistakes. I'm sorry for not treating you nicer after you and Brenda had that fight, when you told me about her doing that with Gary. I was hurt bad by Brenda's doing that. I was mad at everybody, and that included you and it also included me. I didn't behave as well as I should have, and I'm sorry."

"If you're over being mad at me now, does that mean that we're going to be friends again?"

"I don't know. This is a beginning, but I still need to work on some other things before I can say for sure. I'm not mad at you now though."

"I heard Brenda's leaving, to go back to that school in Ohio again."

"That's what I heard too. She's supposed to leave on Monday."

Brenda did leave on Monday. Mama had set up some kind of correspondence plan with the school's administrator's. Mrs. Connor had to sign some papers that allowed the school to communicate directly with Mama. From the reports Mama was getting, it looked like Brenda was doing just enough to satisfy the minimum performance terms outlined in the bequest. She attended all her school classes, and all of her therapy sessions. She sat through the group meetings, participating just enough so that no one could claim she wasn't cooperating. In spite of that, reading between the lines, Brenda was resisting the attempts being made to help her work through her problems. Mama wasn't encouraged.



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Chapter 16

I got an unexpected phone call from my Aunt Clara, telling me that she had just learned that Mother Superior had cancer in some of her internal organs, her stomach, liver, and pancreas, and that she was being relieved of her duties by the church hierarchy. Aunt Clara said this was being done in order to allow Mother Superior to spend her final days in prayer, and in quiet contemplation and anticipation of the after life.

I heard the news, and it filled me with more sadness than I would have expected. Mother Superior had been one of the few constants in my life at the orphanage. We never agreed on much, but, because we both stayed just inside the area of the others limited tolerance, we had somehow managed to co-exist together for an amazingly long time. I called her from the office the next morning, but one of the sisters told me she had been taken, by ambulance, to a Catholic hospital.

I remembered that Mother Superior had always professed a love for the smell of live gardenia's. With Joyce's help, I managed to track down the address of the hospital where Mother Superior was taken, and to locate a source of live, blooming, gardenia plants. I had four of the plants delivered to her room, specifying that each plant have at least four of the fragment flowers in full bloom at the time of delivery. I sent a card by separate courier, thanking her for teaching me the difference between duty and pleasure, and for showing me the pleasure of doing a good job for its own sake. I signed the card, Kenny Masters, because this was the name she had always known me as.

All of the nuns at the orphanage were waiting to see who would be selected as the replacement, to be the new Mother Superior. I hoped, for all the orphan kids sake, that it would be someone who was warmer, and more loving, than the woman she would be replacing.

It was two weeks later before word began trickling down that the order had decided to close the orphanage down. The plan was for most of the youngest children to be transferred to another Catholic orphanage, one being run by a different order of Catholic sisters. Most of the remainder of the orphans, all of these the older boys, would be placed in temporary emergency shelters contracted by the various County social services agencies. The boys were all being returned back to their County of initial placement. These agencies were told they needed to make other, permanent, living arrangements for the boys. This sudden, unannounced, totally unexpected closure of St. Cecelia's created an immediate strain on the existing emergency sheltering resources of most of these agencies

All of us found out about the closure only after all the final decisions had been made by the Church. At first, I was very upset that the little security those boys had in their lives was being taken away from them. That upset feeling didn't last too long though, because I started investigating alternative living options, hoping to find something that I could do to help lessen the disruption to the lives of the older boys transferred away from St. Cecelia's.

One thing I could do was to see that Marie was going to be okay. I went over to St. Cecelia's, and, as she and I got the serving line ready for lunch, we talked about her future plans. I knew that Marie was married, and that she and her husband lived alone now. They had raised two children, but one of them had died in late childhood, of some illness. The other one was married, and she lived somewhere in Nebraska. I knew that Marie's husband was disabled, and that he lived on his social security disability payments. Marie wasn't someone who was easily upset or excitable. She told me she was going to go out and get another job, maybe at a restaurant. She told me there was always plenty of work for a cook. The only worry she had, she said, was people thinking she was too old to hire. I was surprised when Marie told me she was sixty one. I thought she was younger. Her hair didn't have any gray in it at all.

"Marie, you can come work at my Dad's company. We'll make you a baker. You can make bread or rolls, whatever you feel like making."

"Kenny, I'm a cook. I like to cook. I like seeing people eating what I cooked for them. Don't worry, I'll be okay. Some restaurant will give me work."

"Why not open your own restaurant, Marie?"

"Where I'm getting the money to have my own restaurant? When I was young, maybe, but I'm too old now to run a restaurant. It's better if I just cook. Let someone else have the other responsibility."

"What kind of food would you cook if you had your own restaurant?"

"Latin food, arroz con pollo, tacos, burritos, enchiladas, soups and salads. Healthy food, but most of the restaurants like this, the family members, they do all the cooking."

"Marie, if I get somebody to hire you to cook for that kind of restaurant, will you come to work there?"

"You know of such a restaurant, one that needs a cook, and would hire Marie?"

"I know someone who could run a restaurant, but she can't cook. Maybe you two could be partners. Let me talk to her, and see if she's interested or not. Give me your address and phone number. I'll talk to her, either today or tomorrow, and let you know. Don't take another job until you hear from me, okay?" Marie just smiled at me. I was pretty sure she thought I was just talking, but I had an idea.

Grace and Jane were working at the golf academy, and Mama was worried about Grace. Jane really enjoyed her classes at the college, but Grace even though her grades were good, was struggling with hers. She was only going to college because Jane was, and she really had no interest in any of her courses. She had told Mama she didn't plan to register for the next semester, and had been feeling Mama out about coming to work at the academy full time, while Jane went back to school in the fall. Mama's dilemma was that she really didn't need anyone from fall until late spring.

I was sure, with her outgoing personality, that Grace would do well running a restaurant. I knew, from my father that restaurants were difficult to make profitable. Our companies didn't sell directly to restaurants, only to larger distributors that sold to them. Too many went under, and didn't pay their bills.

I didn't worry too much about whether Grace and Marie could run a profitable operation. I thought it would be fun to find out if they could get along together though. Marie was solid and quiet, but she took no nonsense from anybody. I had seen her yelling at suppliers to the orphanage when they had tried to give her a short count, or tried dumping inferior ingredients on her. Grace wasn't anyone's idea of a pushover either. With all the knives Marie kept sharpened in her kitchen, I figured it would be a pretty even fight if those two ever got into it.

During my investigation into living alternatives for the displaced boys at St. Cecelia's, I kept hearing the phrase 'group homes', and, after learning a little about what they were, I went to my parents and we started putting together a team to help us start putting a few of them together for the boys.

A group home is a state and county licensed facility, one that is permitted to provide shelter for up to six individuals in addition to any staff in attendance. Most group homes have a not for profit tax status, which allows them to solicit in the private sector for tax deductible contributions. There were group homes for developmentally disabled adults, and there were others, ones that were just for children. The overwhelming majority of the group homes were for children, but they all specialized in helping only those children with specific disabilities. The most common of these being mental retardation. The next most popular category of group homes were those set up to care for children who were either emotionally disturbed, or displayed delinquent behavior.

Some of these group homes, particularly in California, even housed children in a co-educational setting. Usually permits were issued for a single family dwelling, with no more than six children being allowed to a home. Two licensed adults, usually a married couple, also lived in the home, and provided primary supervision for the children. It was a form of an institution that was deliberately designed to be much more like a regular family setting than an orphanage could ever hope to be. The group home "Parents" were chosen as much for their nurturing nature as for any other characteristics. These were like families, as much as it was possible to be.

You didn't need to meet any qualifications, other than some financial stability, in order to be able to own group homes. To get one licensed though, you had to have people working in them that had passed relatively stringent background checks. To own more than one group home, you needed to have people working for you that had met certain educational requirements, and had degrees in some of the more specific social sciences. They didn't have to show any other competence, just the required degree.

It took my father, mother, and a team composed of several lawyers, less than a month to put all the necessary paperwork together, and then, a not for profit corporation, named Kansas Communities for Children, was born. We began with licenses for operating four homes, all of them four bedroom residences that my father had purchased from a bank that had taken them when they foreclosed on a builder whose loan was in default. The homes were all situated together, two on each side of a quiet cul de sac in Bolling. Each home had a six foot high block wall fence surrounding the back yard, and had passed various fire and health inspections, prior to its being approved for use as a licensed group home.

Part of the initial licensing requirement was that none of the close neighbors to a group home objected when the use permit application was in front of the zoning authorities, prior to the state license being issued. We made sure that this was the case by buying into this development, where our homes were the only ones the builder had completed before running into financial problems. Later, the bank was able to sell off the rest of the builder's assets, and the rest of the subdivision was built. By then though, we were already licensed and operating, and were no longer subject to needing neighborhood approval.

Joyce and I interviewed more than fifty applicants for the executive director's position, before finally settling on a woman from California. We chose her primarily because she had previously opened up, and operated her own group homes for disturbed children in Santa Barbara, California. We assumed that all of her experience would be invaluable to us, and we were right. Once we settled on her, we left all the other staffing responsibilities in her hands. In another month, we were fully staffed, with our executive director traveling around, negotiating with county social workers for their children to be placed in one of our homes.

Since the children we were seeking to care for weren't retarded, diseased, disturbed, or delinquent, the money to provide for their support and upkeep was minimal. That might not have been fair, but that's how it was. If you wanted to provide good care for children, you were better off taking kids with physical or emotional problems. The others, they fell into a category where the money paid to care for them wasn't adequate to meet their needs, other than the most basic needs of physical survival. In one way, this was a good thing for us, because it meant we'd get to pick and choose the children we wanted to provide care for.

We had given Sandy, our executive director, some very precise and specific instructions about the age range and status of the children we were looking to put in our homes. We specified that they be boys, aged between ten and fifteen years, and true orphans. They had to have spent a minimum time, three years or more, in long term institutional care, either orphanages or hospitals. I wanted boys who had known and lived in pretty much the same lifestyle as I had experienced. I knew these boys would appreciate what we were going to be providing for them.

We had some trouble at first with Sandy, because she had her own favorite age group of children, ones that she enjoyed working with the most. These were the younger children, ranging from four to eight years of age. Every week, she would just seem to happen across one or more of these children, and, in the process, she'd end up falling in love with them. She would then come to me, and desperately plead that they were a special case, asking that an exemption be given for them being allowed admission into one of our homes.

Every week I'd be forced to turn her down. I kept telling her, over and over again, that these weren't the children that I was targeting for assistance. Finally, when I couldn't stand to listen to any more of her emotional pleas, I told her that she either had to accept the limits I'd placed on her, as far as what our desired resident population was, or else she could go out and use her own money to set up other group homes, ones that catered to the age group of children she so desperately wanted to work with. Because she no longer had the money to do that herself, she agreed to stop trying to bring her special cases to us.

She was a great administrator, extremely good with the children, and with working closely with the staff she'd hired to care for all of the children. She was a very loving and nurturing woman, but we were running these homes for our purposes, not for hers. I had made a promise to myself when Uncle Bunny died, and keeping it was the main focus of my attention.

It didn't take long for us to fill up to our full capacity. All of our children were being enrolled in the public school system. Part of our screening process involved making sure that the children we selected were capable of doing well in their studies. It might sound cruel and unfeeling, but I knew we had to expend our limited resources on the children who could benefit the most from our intervention in their lives. We needed children who had the mental capability to capitalize on an opportunity.

We were paid a negotiated monthly rate by each county for taking care of their children. That fee took care of all of our most basic costs. Mama and I added whatever money was needed for the frills and extras. My goal was to get each of these children living in a real family home, with their own loving parents, but, while they were waiting for this to take place, I wanted them to enjoy a better standard of living than any of them had previously known. Unfortunately, with the age group and institutional history for the boys I was picking, exceeding their previous standard of living was far too easy an accomplishment.

Later, when I was back in school, it was difficult trying to juggle my school work, while still trying to keep on top of payroll, expenses, income, and all the other financial administration necessary to keep the group homes functioning.

Joyce was taking over my position in the company, and she was going to hire two of her own paid assistants. Joyce was given a salary that was easily the equivalent to one of our shift managers. My father was constantly singing her praises to all who would listen. She was fitting in with us, both in a business and a family sense. I'd never seen Mama happier at the dinner table in the evenings. Each night all of us would report to each other about the content of our days. Mama was still struggling with her depression, but, she and Joyce would spend time together alone in Mama's bedroom, and Mama was preparing Joyce for the time when she would have one of her bad depressions.

Joyce was being an immense help to me also, volunteering with both her time and her creative energy, helping me to get as much financial and services assistance as we could from the federal, state, and county governments. It was she that helped get us a Federal grant to purchase the four homes for our first modular expansion. She and Sandy wrote the grant proposal, but it was Joyce who contacted our congressman, and both our our state's Senators, to ask for their help in seeing that the grant proposal got a favorable hearing. It took less than five months before our request was approved, and for the funds to be made available to us.

We also had Mama canvassing for funds in the private sector too. Mama had turned out to be a tireless fund raiser for us. She knew all of the older and wealthier families living in the area. For years, she had attended, and generously supported their fund raisers. With our group homes project on her mind, she started calling in all those past favors. She even formed a group of ladies, and named them as the guardian angels of the boys. Each of these society matrons drew out the name for one of our boys, and took on the responsibility for remembering their birthdays, and for providing them with gifts at Christmas time.

Still, even with all of that, we were personally supplementing the homes expenses with some of our own money. We were planning on our first expansion, but we wanted to wait for at least a year. In the meantime, Joyce and Sandy located property and started accepting contractor bids to build our four home cluster just outside of Holton. There was going to be a large common green belt area in the center, one that all the boys could use to run around in and play the games that would keep them out in fresh air and help to strengthen their physical conditioning. I had come up with a modular concept system, one that we could use as a model when setting up other four and five home clusters situated throughout the state. It was worth it, the waiting, because we refined our program until we had it set up so all our boys wanted for nothing.

They received the best medical and dental care possible. They each had their own personal clothing allowance of fifty dollars a month. They got personal spending money as well, with the amount based on how helpful they were helping out around the house, and how well they were performing with their school studies.

We placed a lot of emphasis on making sure that each boy learned the living skills to be independent and self sufficient. I had set Joyce the task of planning individual summer camping trips for all of our group homes. She had found an RV dealer who gave us a great price on renting four of his largest, self contained, motor homes, for one month each, during the upcoming summer. Each group home was going to plan two of their own two week tours for somewhere in the continental U. S.

The most difficult hurdle for us to overcome was getting permission from the social workers for our boys to leave the state. We had to go to court several times to secure permissions, after a few of the social workers refused to grant it. The insurance coverage we were forced to carry was super expensive, but a woman in Mama's group, convinced her husband to pay all of the premiums for us.

All of this started going on before the beginning of my senior year in high school. I had opted to become a day student, living at home for my senior year. Keeping up with school work became a challenge for me, because the group homes had first call on my time and energies. Somehow, when I really needed to crack the books and study for an exam, I found the time, and managed to keep up my grade point average.

I sacrificed to do this, giving up a lot of what would have been my free time for social activities, but it was always worth it. If I ever felt too tired, or started to feel like I didn't have the energy to continue on with the schedule I had, a one hour trip to and from the group homes was all I ever needed to restore both my energy and my motivation. I saw the difference in the faces and in their postures. There was a real, noticable difference in the way they carried themselves, they kept their heads up higher, and they were willing to look people right in the eye, they felt they were the equals to all the other people now. I saw happiness and hope, where before there was only disappointment and despair.

I started noticing, sometime in early September, that my thoughts were constantly turning to girls. I was horny. I had taken the required steps for relieving my sexual tension, masturbating several times a week, at least. It wasn't the same as enjoying the real thing.

I had a lot less contact with girls ever since my last phone conversation with Shirley. I had talked with her the Sunday after my meeting Helen, and after the episode with Brenda. Joyce was out of the house, over with Hans, in Bolling, getting her personal keepsakes from her room at her parent's house.

I called Shirley, and the conversation started out on a happy enough note. After we got done with all of our small talk, I told her that I had concluded that we'd both be better off seeing other people. She told me she thought so as well. As soon as she said that though, she asked me if I'd met anyone yet. When she asked me that, I told her that I had, and admitted kissing Helen, and touching her a little as well.

Shirley was upset, although we did continue to talk, and she didn't hang up on me. She even told me she understood my reasoning, but then, she added that she was hurt that I was in such a hurry to explore this willingness to begin seeing other people again.

I knew I had to tell her about the dream, and about the fears I had that I might be becoming someone I didn't want to be.

I started talking about Brenda and Emily, and what I had been trying to negotiate with Brenda. She listened to me, at first, but her comments whenever I paused, were becoming angry attacks at me. To her, it didn't matter that I'd changed my mind before anything physical had actually taken place.

Some continuing relationship with Shirley might still might have been salvageable, if I had just limited myself to that not quite so innocent flirting with Helen at work. Telling her about my attempt at seducing and humiliating Brenda was far more than she could accept, especially with it happening in that one week between our first and second phone calls. I had wanted to confess it all to her, to get it out in the open, so that we could try to find out where we stood, after that.

After awhile, she told me to stop telling her about it, saying she couldn't take any more. I told her that I'd wait for her to think about it more, and then I'd call her on the following Sunday.

I told her I still wanted for us to keep in touch. She warned me then, with the direction it appeared I was moving my life in, she wasn't sure she could even bear to remain my friend. Hearing her say that, I knew the events of the past week had really affected her. To say she might not even want to be friends with me, that was a blow. She told me she'd think about our situation, and she did promise to speak with me again, when I phoned her on the following Sunday. I thought the call had gone pretty much about the way I'd expected it to, with the exception that I never anticipated her wanting to have nothing more to do with me.

I had no new transgressions to report on the following Sunday, but my good behavior went unnoticed and unrewarded. Shirley told me that she had decided it would be less painful for both of us if we made a clean and complete break of it. She asked that we stop communicating with each other for awhile. I asked her to clarify her use of the term "for awhile", but all she would say is she didn't want me to call her anymore, and that she would call me, whenever she was ready to resume being in contact with me.

After we got off the phone, I spent a lot of time reflecting on what it was I'd done. I hadn't acted like I was still in love with Shirley. My behavior hadn't been consistent with someone who had often stated his desire to maintain a close long distance relationship. In my own mind, I could still admit that I loved her. I'd broken the bonds that connected us together. It was an emotional decision, one predicated on my fear that I was going to lose her anyway. I thought my having been the cause of the final severance would lessen the impact of the emotional hurt I was going to suffer.

Sitting there in my room, I decided that nothing had changed or lessened in any way the pain of losing Shirley. My one consolation was that I knew I'd really lost Shirley when she moved away. My later actions had merely hastened the time when we could both admit that it was really over.

Nothing I had done, or had been willing to do, could have prevented the break up from occurring. My actions probably shortened the time we would have agonized before we both admitted that it was over. I wasn't optimistic that Shirley would ever contact me again.

-------

In October, Daniel Carroll handed me a sealed envelope from his sister, Helen. I noted his obvious reluctance at performing the task when he did so. I opened it up in the car, just before I left school to drive home after my final class of the day.



Lover Boy,

What happened to you? I was sure you'd keep in touch with me after such a promising beginning. I am enclosing my phone number so that you can phone me and tell me some outrageous lies. Don't keep me waiting too much longer, Lover Boy, because I'm getting tired of having to rub my own bottom.

XOXOXOXO,

Helen



I wrote her a note of my own, and sealed it in an envelope, which I handed over to Daniel Carroll the following day.



Dear Helen,

Meet me at school at five thirty, this Friday. A girl as pretty as you shouldn't be reduced to having to rub her own bottom. Especially when it's a bottom as gorgeous as yours. I'll be thrilled to be having the opportunity to rub, buff, polish, and shine your bottom. When I'm done with it, it will be fit to be put on display in any museum in the world.

XOXOXOXO,

Lover Boy



I had to remain at the Academy on Friday until five thirty in any case, because I had a make up examination to take in my second year Chemistry class. I'd missed the exam on the previous Friday, because of a small crisis in the group homes that had required my presence.

I came out of the administration building at five twenty, and was pleased to see Helen sitting in the parking area, waiting for me. I went to get her, and transferred her over to my car, giving her a rather intense two minute welcoming kiss in the process.

I wondered how many of the residents of 'Joke Hall' were looking out the windows, and would know that this was "Beam Me Up Snotty's" older sister? During the whole time we were kissing, each of us were rubbing the others buttocks with both our hands. Her butt had lost none of its fullness or appeal.

Inside my car, I asked her where she wanted me to take her. She wanted to know what her choices were.

"I can take you to the country club and feed you a decent meal. I can take you home, so you can meet my family, and then we could sneak up to my room, if you promise you won't try to have your way with me. We could also go over to my late Uncle's house, because it's mine now. If none of those appeal to you, we can drive somewhere and park, so we can get to know each other better."

"Which of those choices would lead me to having my way with you the quickest?"

"That would be going to my Uncle's house. Counting travel time, you could probably talk me into it within fifteen minutes."

"Let's do that then. Edith's daughter told me all about you. She's going to be so mad when she finds out that I had my way with you and she didn't."

"She did get to rub my dick the first day I met her though, so she's ahead of you there. I think it's only fair to warn you about that, in case you're competing with Ellen."

"She already told me that. Just so you know it, I don't usually act like this. Its just one of those things I can't explain. I've been hot for you ever since that day when you put your hand on me."

"Please, you don't have to explain why you want me. It's been so long since anyone has offered, I'm not inclined to ask too many questions. Be gentle with me because it has been awhile for me."

"Danny knows I came here today. He asked me not to, because now he's going to get teased by the other boys."

"That might not be all bad either. He might get himself a new nickname out of it Just so you know it, I do act like this. I'm easy, and you would have found out about it anyway."

"I knew you were easy when you came running as soon as you saw me rubbing my bottom. Easy or not though, you better not be a big disappointment. I've been waiting for this since July, Mister Kenny Parsons."

"Call me Lover Boy, Mr. Parsons is way too formal. How do you want to do this?"

"You don't know how to do it? I just assumed that you had lots of experience. Don't you find the way we're preparing for this a little bit unusual?"

"Unusual? I don't think so. Unusual in what way?"

"We hardly know each other, and we're about to make love."

"All of my most successful relationships start out like that. Believe me, when I say its for the best this way. Once you get to know me, the last thing you're going to want to do is have any more sex with me. Today is probably going to be the highlight of our relationship. I can almost guarantee you its all downhill from here. By next week, you'll be looking over your shoulder, afraid that you might accidentally run into me."

"You really are different than I thought you'd be. You're pretty weird. Do you do drugs?"

"No. I never touch drugs. It's hard enough being me, without taking anything to make me more strange."

We had arrived at Uncle Bunny's front door. I used my key and opened the door. I took her straight back to Uncle Bunny's bedroom, without stopping to show her the rest of the house.

Neither of us got undressed. We just lay down on the bed, not talking, laying on top of the comforter, and started right in with French kissing. She was a great kisser. willing and energetic, and kissing her like we were doing felt good to me. I progressed to touching her breasts which felt bigger and fuller than they had looked to me.

We spent almost an hour like that, kissing and touching, but I had stopped trying to take it past the petting outside her clothing stage. She didn't try to rush me though, seeming content to allow me to set a pace I was comfortable with. Being there with Helen, I felt even lonelier than I'd been before she had written me. Having sex with her wasn't what I needed or wanted. I missed Shirley, and I don't mean having sex with her. With Helen, I couldn't get relaxed. I felt my tension building as I began to put pressure on myself to take our contact up to the next level. This girl was expecting me to make love with her. I felt uncomfortable and awkward with that.

Having realized that, I was wondering how I could tell her. It wasn't anything wrong with her, it was me, I wasn't feeling any need or desire to go further with it. This wasn't anything I had ever encountered before, unless you count the times I'd locked my bedroom door when Bea lived with us. How does a guy explain something like that to a woman? I've got a headache?

Helen had to sense my lack of enthusiasm and progress. She didn't say anything, but when we broke for a rest, she scooted up, and sat with a pillow supporting her head. She looked like she was waiting for me to say something.

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm still not over some problems I've been having. I thought I was ready when I wrote you to invite you to come see me."

"Did I put too much pressure on you? I didn't mean to. I didn't want to mess this up because I really liked the way we connected that time when you first met me. Ellen warned me about coming on too strong with you."

"How well do you know her?"

"I don't know her that well, just that we talked a few times when she came by to see Edith and the other guys. Edith told her about how you got me hired for the phone room, and, after she heard that, she started asking me questions about you. She told me about what she did, and how you fired her for it. She still likes you though."

"Tell me how you're feeling about what just happened here. Are you upset?"

"I don't think I'd say upset. I thought we were going to do more, but what we did do was kind of nice too. I liked it. I didn't know you were having problems. Are you sick?"

"No, I was in love. I guess that's like being sick though. I thought it wouldn't matter today, but, I guess I was wrong. I wish it didn't matter, because I was really looking forward to us screwing like bunnies." We laughed about that.

"I'm ready, all you need to do is figure out how you're going to do it. Sometimes, it helps to just take it a step at a time. Whatever you think would help. Do you want me to do anything? I could maybe suck you, if that would help?"

"I'm a sucker for looking at cute naked bottoms. Do you think you'd be comfortable if you took off your jeans for me?" As soon as I asked her, she smiled at me and lifted her hips off the mattress, and started undoing her belt, and the snap and zipper on the jeans she was wearing. She worked her way out of the pants by wiggling her hips from side to side. I thought she was exaggerating things, but I liked what I was seeing anyway, so I smiled and didn't comment. When her jeans were off, she pointed to her pink undies and made a questioning face at me.

"I prefer bare naked bottoms." Off came the panties. Her pubic hair was full, long, and very curly. It wasn't as full as Bea's, but it was a lot of hair. It didn't look like she trimmed it at all. When she turned herself over, I was looking at a real nice butt. It was big, like Bea's, with perfectly round twin halves. I reached over and started running my hand over them. I started focusing on her bottom, not thinking about anything more than the feel of her skin, and the firmness beneath my fingertips. I put my other hand on her other cheek and started giving her a butt massage. These had been another favorite of Bea's. Helen's butt felt a lot like Bea's, maybe a little more muscular, but soft too, when she relaxed it. I could feel how much Helen liked having me touching her bottom. "You have a great ass, Helen. I really like how it feels."

"Umm. It feels good to me too, what you're doing." She moved the pillow out of the way, so she could move her head down on the mattress. I started working the back of her thighs as well as her buttocks, and Helen started opening her legs, giving me access to her inner thighs too. I massaged her for fifteen minutes or so, staying away from her pussy while I did it. I saw that she was well lubricated, and, when my fingers got anywhere close to her pussy, she would lift her hips up slightly, hoping to feel my fingers on her there. I was starting to get excited as I did this. Seeing her obvious arousal had helped me with mine. I leaned down so that my face was close to her right butt cheek, and stuck my tongue out so that it just barely came into contact with her ass. She reacted with a small moan escaping her lips. I spent another ten minutes running my tongue and lips over her buttocks, with the last two or three minutes moving my finger up and back through the crack of her butt. Still, I kept away from contacting her pussy, although I did touch her butt hole with my finger, softly circling the sphincter, as I gave her lots of tiny kisses on either cheek of her butt.

I stood up from the bed and pulled my own pants off. I took off my briefs too, putting my erection on display for her. When I got back on the bed and returned my face to her ass, I made sure my dick made contact with different parts of her leg. I felt the wetness as the lubricant began leaking from my dick, savoring the exquisite feeling as the sensitive head of my dick came into contact with the skin on her legs. I lowered my head and ran my fully extended tongue down as far as I could in the small opening created by the spread of her legs. My tongue touched her hair and also one of the opened lips of her very wet pussy. She arched up, trying to create a bigger vee so that my head, and with it, my tongue, could get better access. I was licking her pussy then, lapping up all the juices that my earlier efforts had caused to flow.

She turned over, and I continued my lingual grazing. It took only a few seconds before I had memorized the map of her particular erogenous areas. The hood on her clit was recessed, and anywhere around there was particularly sensitive. When I started biting the skin and hair on her pubic arch, she showed her enthusiastic approval by lifting up and asking me to bite her harder. This too reminded me of Bea. Bea liked to be handled a little roughly, and to have her outer labial lips chewed and bitten. A few seconds of clinical investigation established that this was even more true of Helen. Soon, I had her moaning and jumping around in reaction to my bites and licks.

Orgasms are always predicated by the sequence of the order of the things being done. Bea had shown me her best sequence order, the one that brought her the strongest and most satisfying orgasms. Each woman, she had told me, had her own sequence order that made it strongest and most satisfying for her. She told me that it was only slightly different for every woman, but that there were a few general categories of sequential responsiveness.

Apparently, from what I'd learned so far, Helen was in the same general category as Bea. Knowing how to please Bea, I knew how to please Helen. I teased her, while maintaining firm contact with my lips, tongue, and teeth on her pussy. I was deliberately rough with the way I moved my face around down there, constantly pressuring her pussy with little bites, and pulling at her pussy lips, making some harder pressure contact with her clit.

When I had gotten her really worked up, close to going over, I slapped her hard on her ass, and, forcibly took her pussy by plunging two of my stiffly extended fingers into it. I bit down hard on the area surrounding her clit, trapping her fully extended clit up inside my mouth, and pressing my tongue against it.

I held on to her that way, not losing contact while she thrashed around mightily, jerking and straining against the pressure I was exerting on her. I sensed when it was time to back off and withdraw, becoming gentler with my hands, stroking her in a soothing and calming way. I looked at her face, and I saw there the profound effect my ministrations had produced. I released her so that I could reach into my pants pocket for a condom.

Putting it on, I finally felt willing and ready to have sex with Helen. I rolled on top of her and moved my dick up inside her. As soon as I got myself firmly planted, I began a fast, forceful, rhythm. By the time she was starting to respond to my fucking her, I was moving fast, and acting like I was almost ready to cum. She had started out lethargic, still coming down from her earlier strong orgasm that I'd given her. Some of her nerve endings were still tingling though, and she wasn't quite ready yet to participate fully in the fucking I was giving her.

It takes awhile to recover when you've had a great orgasm, but it isn't unpleasant, according to Bea, to return to some semblance of sensory normality, only to discover that you're being fucked, hard and fast, by someone who's concerned only with taking his own pleasure. She likened it to a guy waking up, shortly after having cum, to discover that he was getting a nice blow job.

In Helen's case, her first reaction to what I was doing, was to lift her legs higher, and to start moving her hips in a tempo that she quickly found very pleasurable. She started racing with me, in a frenzied hurry to try to catch up, hoping that she could cum again before I managed to. That was always a woman's worry when being fucked, according to Bea, not wanting to be brought up to a point where she was close, only to find that the guy was already finished. Bea told me that women judged how close a man was to cumming by the speed and urgency of the pace and intensity of his stroking into them. Faster meant he was closer to cumming. It was an axiomatic truth.

The secret, again, according to Bea, was for the guy to get the woman hurrying, trying desperately to catch up to him, because it opened up all of her sensory receptors. She was in a state of temporary overload, in her desperation to get there before he finished and left her hanging. This fact heightened all her feelings, making multiple enormous cums possible, if the guy could somehow maintain both his erection, and the pace of his hard fucking.

That's what I did with Helen. I came before she did, but only just barely, and, because I knew I wasn't going to lose my erection, I just kept on going. She thought that I'd quit as soon as I had reached the finish line, but she was wrong. I still had another lap or two left in me.

With most women, this tactic will only work once. Even though it produces a great response in them, most women hate it, because they feel out of control when their body is not responding in any way they could predict or be used to. It produces great multiple orgasms though, and Bea had trained herself to be fooled over and over that way.

I was lying on my back, trying to get enough air in my lungs to replenish my system. I had gotten out of shape from not being in practice to be doing that, and my body was paying the price for my having felt the need to show off to Helen. When I finally was able to regulate my breathing, I turned on my side to face Helen. She looked at me, with eyes that showed some fear in them. She lifted both her hands, as if to push me away if I tried to mount her again.

"Don't worry. That's it for me, I'm done."

"Good. What the hell was that?"

"That was fucking."

"That isn't what I'd call fucking. Where did you learn how to do that?"

"The girl I made love to for my first time showed me how to do it that way. You didn't like it?".

"I'm not sure. It was pretty intense. I thought you were going to stop, and then you got going even faster, after that, I don't know what happened, except you wouldn't stop. I wanted to stop, but you kept going, and then I started cumming and cumming. It felt good, but it also felt like it was too much, too intense. I was glad when you finally stopped."

"You haven't even had the best part yet. Turn over on your front." When she turned over, I touched her as softly as I could on her back and butt, trailing a fingernail as lightly as I could, wherever the fingernail went, little goosebumps would be raised. I worked all over her body, and it was pleasant, arousing and ticklish all at the same time. I turned her back over and convinced her to trust me enough to open her legs and allow me to place my face near her pussy. I blew on her pubic hairs and used my fingers to expose her clit. I blew on it, softly, for about a minute, until her whole body went absolutely rigid, and she started pounding her balled up hands into Uncle Bunny's mattress.I let her rest for a few minutes, and then I turned her back over and used my tongue, licking lightly on her asshole, just long enough to make her cum again.

We showered together after, and I made her cum again, just from washing her breasts with a bar of soap, and my two bare hands. She almost collapsed from the strength of that orgasm, unable to believe she got that way from me gently rubbing her breasts.

"How long am I going to be like this? I can't do anything if I'm so sensitive everywhere. I had a hard time even putting my clothes back on."

"I don't know. It should wear off in a few weeks. Maybe a month or so."

"You're kidding."

"Yes. Let's go get a hamburger. It will go away if you don't start making yourself cum for awhile."

"You should bottle that last part, Kenny. I don't know about the first things you did, but the side effects are great. If I touched myself now, could I make myself cum?"

"We'll be at the country club in five minutes. Play with your nipples until we get there. See if it works." Helen had been too sensitive to put her bra back on, so it was sitting in her purse. Her nipples were already poking out of the material of her blouse. She did, and she was coming down from her orgasm when we pulled into the parking lot at the club. We both ordered the steak sandwiches and the French fries. Helen and I had chosen one of the booths, and she was sitting so close to me she was almost in my lap.

"I'm glad you told me to get naked. It hadn't been going that good before that."

"No, it hadn't. I always had a weakness for naked ladies butts, so I was hoping it would inspire me."

"Well, it sure worked. Now what?"

"Well, we're going to enjoy a nice meal together, and then I'm going to drive you back to the Academy, so you can pick up your car."

"I know that. I meant after that."

"I'm not sure. I'm afraid I need more time to work out my other problem. I enjoyed this evening, but I don't think I'm really ready to start a new relationship. I didn't want you to leave disappointed though. When I get over this thing that's bothering me, I'd like to call you up and see you some more." Helen nodded, but I think she thought I was giving her the brush off. "Helen, I really like you, but, I'm still in love with Shirley. I need to get over that first."

I drove her back to the campus, and when I parked over close to her car, several of the students from 'Joke Hall' were heading back to their rooms. Of course, they stopped walking, to watch us, and to see what we were going to do. I had the top down on my car, because Helen asked me to take it down, so they had an unobstructed view of us sitting there in the car.

"Why are they all standing around watching us?"

"They're hoping we'll put on a show for them. Most of these guys stay at the school for months at a time. They would pay to watch two dogs fucking."

"We aren't dogs."

"We aren't fucking either."

"Do we just sit here and wait for them to leave?"

"Nothing else to do, unless you feel like putting on a little show for them."

"You mean fuck you right here? In front of them?"

"No. I think they'd be satisfied with us doing some innocent kissing."

"No touching?"

"I'm sure they'd like that, but it isn't necessary."

How about kissing, and no touching below the waist?"

"You just want to cum some more. You sure you don't want to climb up on top of the seat, and have me lick your pussy?"

"No, I couldn't do that to Danny. Would you have done it if I let you?"

"I don't think so. If I did it to you, these guys would expect all my female visitors to do the same thing."

"Walk me to my car, but you can only have one kiss. Tomorrow morning though, when Ellen calls me, I'm going to tell her you ate me out, in front of the whole school."

I walked her to her car and gave her a long, wet, kiss. Enough to provoke shouts, and more than a few cat calls from the boys of 'Joke Hall'.

I watched her driving away, wishing that things were different with me. I had felt, in Uncle Bunny's room, real fear. I'd been afraid that I'd never be able to make love anyone else again. I had managed to mess up all my past relationships, so now I felt gun shy around girls. I could fuck them, but only after I reduced them to a faceless physical commodity. I was only seventeen years old. How did things get so messed up for me?



-------

Chapter 17A


After that one time with Helen, I decided that I was just too busy to be trying to maintain any kind of social life. I had my family, including Joyce, I had school, and I had the boys in the group homes. I told myself there simply wasn't enough time to have friends, not in addition to everything else I was committed to doing. The sex hadn't been that satisfying to me, and I had to admit that I just wasn't ready to move on with that part of my life.

I had spoken with Grace shortly after my meeting with Marie. At first, she was very skeptical about being able to run a restaurant. She hadn't even worked in one. She knew nothing, she said. I told her I knew nothing about it either, and all of us would learn about it together.

Right from the beginning, Jane was enthusiastic in her support for the idea. She knew that Grace had planned on not registering for the upcoming fall semester, and she was worried that Grace might decide to leave, returning to her family in Topeka, if she didn't find something she could do that would allow her to stay there in Bolling with Jane.

I told them the first thing to do would be to find a building to lease, preferably one that had already been a restaurant. I had a list I'd gotten from my father, where he'd given a ball park estimate of costs for starting up a restaurant, based on what I'd told him of the kinds of foods that Marie wanted to cook. One thing he'd emphasized, over all of the other things, was the importance of a good location.

It was his contention, that people failed in the restaurant business because they had either picked a poor location, or they didn't have enough financial reserves to stick with it, until the restaurant started turning a profit. He also told me that restaurants failed because they didn't have a clear idea of what kind of eating place they wanted to be. Lastly, he told me that even if we managed to avoid all those other pitfalls, we could still fail, if we didn't have the food or the ambiance that would draw in repeat customers, ones who would be willing to return to us, over and over again. He didn't make it seem like an easy investment to make a success of.

Hans told me that he knew someone, (a German friend of his) who was a dealer in used restaurant supplies, over in Kansas City, Missouri. He told us that buying used equipment made a lot more sense than buying new. So many restaurants failed, that there was a huge supply of nearly new kitchen equipment offered for resale. His friend could save us a lot of money on the start up costs of outfitting our kitchen. Like all of our other businesses, this was to be a family venture, right from the very beginning. Once I told them my idea, and who I wanted to help, all of them were behind me, one hundred per cent.

We found a building almost by accident. One of Dad's bankers was complaining about a big loan that had gone sour on him. It had gone bad because, the company in default, had gotten themselves over-leveraged, and they couldn't keep up with the debt service, having spent too much of their capital in making even more dubious acquisitions. The banker was complaining because he felt the defaulting borrowers had grossly overstated the values of the assets they had pledged for most of their loans. At the time of foreclosure, the vacancy rate on all of the underlying income producing assets had been close to fifty per cent. There wasn't enough income being generated to keep the accounts current. My father, being always on the lookout for an opportunity, asked for, and was given, a summary of the bank's repossessed portfolio.

Joyce was asked to find someone to investigate, and to then give us a current market appraisal for all of the properties. Mama and Uncle Bunny had always been interested in any good income properties to be found with either attractive pricing or favorable terms. The report that came back didn't reveal any outstanding values, but Dad knew the banker wanted to convert his non performing loans back into performing ones. Interest rates were still coming down, and, Dad felt that he might be able to convert all the loans at a very favorable interest rate.

In the end, it turned out that the bank was willing to finance one hundred per cent for us, of a two point seven million dollar loan, at two percentage points under the prime interest rate. They agreed to do this as long as they didn't have to charge back any principal, by writing down the loan balance amount owed to them at the time of default. Basically, it was to be an interest rate play on my mother's part. She was gambling that the properties would appreciate in value at a greater rate than the interest and the taxes she paid for the properties. Dad's investigator believed that normal occupancy rates should have been much higher, and that lease terms were too low based on current market comparable lease rates. His conclusion was that the properties had been poorly managed, and should have yielded more than enough to carry their old debt service.

Two of the properties were vacant restaurants. One was too large for what I was looking for Grace and Marie to get started with, but the other one was three thousand square feet, and on the first floor of a five story professional office building. The previous tenant had moved out when their lease expired, wanting to build their own, larger location, closer to a main highway artery. From what information we had, they had been profitable in their old location, serving breakfast, lunch and dinner, mostly to downtown workers and shoppers.

Mama leased the whole building to a corporation we had formed, and I brought Marie and Grace together for a first meeting. It was early August, and Marie had finished up at St. Cecelia's. We showed both girls our proposed location, explaining to them that the corporation was going to lease them a fully turn key operation, just as soon as they were ready to open up for business. This meant the corporation would underwrite all costs for equipment and decorations, meaning Marie and Grace wouldn't have any money at all invested in the restaurant.

It was agreed that each would be paid three hundred dollars a week for the first year, and, then, another meeting would take place at the end of the first year to see where everything stood, as far as generated income exceeding costs and expenses. Mama assured both women that they wouldn't be responsible for any losses incurred in that first year of operation. Marie and Grace would split any profits over and above a reasonable return on the corporation's capital investment.

Marie would be in charge of everything in the kitchen, including the menu, and Grace would handle everything out in the dining area, including restaurant receipts, payroll and bookkeeping. She would also be taking care of all the staffing of the non-kitchen workers and the dining room staff. It took no time at all for both women to agree to try it under the terms that Mama proposed. I knew that this salary was more than Marie had been making at St. Cecelia's, even though she had worked there for a number of years. Grace seemed to be more confident, knowing that Mama was involved in the restaurant project.

Marie accompanied Gerta and Hans down to Kansas City, looking over the used restaurant equipment from Hans' German friend. Even with buying everything at well more than a sixty per cent discount from it's original list price, Marie spent more than twenty thousand dollars, just on kitchen equipment. At Mama's insistence, Marie was put on salary right away, and Grace would begin drawing hers, just as soon as her counselor/teacher duties at the golf academy were finished, sometime in the first week of September. Mama gave Grace the names and contact information for a firm that specialized in consulting on the decorating of themed restaurants. Mama wanted to call the new restaurant "Gracarie" combining the two names of the women. They discussed that, and then settled on "Gracarie's Cocina" It was going to be a Cuban/Mexican restaurant. Marie's husband was originally from Cuba, and Marie's parents had brought her from Mexico when she was in her teens.

I hadn't heard from Shirley since before mid July. I wasn't too surprised though, when I received a call from her on a Tuesday evening in October, less than a week after my date with Helen. As soon as Helen told me she was planning on telling Ellen stories about our date, I assumed that Ellen might want to call, and pass them on to Shirley. The surprise was not that Shirley had found out about about my date with Helen, but rather that she had called to discuss it with me.

"Kenny, this is Shirley."

"Hello Shirley. I'm glad you called. How are things with you?"

"Ellen called me. She told me about that girl you're seeing. Is what she told me true?"

"I don't know yet. What did she tell you?"

"She told me that you licked that girl's pussy, right in your car in the parking lot at your school. She says you did that with half the boys in your school watching you."

"No, that didn't happen. Helen did tell me she was going to tell Ellen that it happened though. Apparently they had some kind of competition between them. I don't know."

"You never even tried to call me."

"You asked me not to."

"Because I was hurt, and because I couldn't believe you were acting like that. You should have known that I wanted you to call me."

"How's school? I'm having a hard time keeping up with everything here. I've only had one date since the last time we spoke, back in July some time."

"Is that the date Ellen told me about? The one where you fucked that girl?"

"I had one date, and it was with Helen, the girl Ellen called to tell you I went out with."

"Did you fuck her or not?"

"What have you been doing, Shirley? I told you I've had one date, what have you had?"

"I haven't done anything with anyone else, Kenny. Did you fuck her, or not?" Shirley was getting angry, and that, in turn, was making me angry too."

"If I say I did, what would that change?"

"I'd know then. If you tell me you did, I'll believe it."

"Do you want to believe it?"

"I want to know the truth, Kenny. Why can't you just answer my question?"

"If I tell you I did, you're going to get mad, and then I won't ever hear from you again. It isn't like I'm saying I didn't, Shirley, because I don't want to lie to you, but it wasn't like I did it, and didn't have some problems with doing it."

"So, you admit you did then."

"Yes. I admit I did."

"I knew it! I just wanted to hear you admit it to me. You know I love you, and you didn't even care about that."

"Shirley, I don't see how this helps either of us. I miss you, but, I have to live the life I have now. As far as I know, that means without you being here with me. If you were here, you wouldn't have gotten any phone call about Helen from Ellen. You aren't here, and it isn't fair for you to be mad at me for dating someone else. I know I can't ask you to put your life on hold either. As far as I knew, our last phone call was going to be our last phone call. You asked me not to call you, and you told me you wanted to make a clean break. Now you call up here, and you try to make me feel bad about something I was already feeling bad enough about. Helen is a nice girl, but she isn't you."

"This call is our last one, Kenny. I spent three months telling myself that you hadn't really done anything with Brenda, Emily or that other girl, the one that took over my old job. I was willing to forgive you about that kissing and feeling up thing with Helen. Now though, you've gone ahead and fucked someone else. Every time I talk to you, you've done something new to destroy my love for you. I don't know why I still love you?"

"Shirley, this isn't doing either of us any good. Unless something changes, and I don't think it will, I think these kind of calls, ones where you pretend we're still together, aren't going to help us. I haven't done anything with Helen that you should be hurt or angry about. Right now, the best we can hope for, is to be friends who care about each other. I care about you, but I know we aren't still together."

"You never said that to me before, Kenny. You told me you loved me the last time we talked. Now, you're telling me all we can ever be is friends?"

"I'm telling you we need to be friends again, before we can ever hope to be anything else. With you living as far away as you do, all we can manage right now is to be friends."

"Did you at least wish it was me with you instead of her?"

"Not a single day has gone by, not since you left, when I haven't wished you were still here. Wishing doesn't work though. I need more than wishes that aren't ever going to come true."

"Was she better than me? Ellen told me you did something weird to her, something that made her cum over and over, from just barely touching her."

"Nobody's ever been half as good to me as we were when we were together."

"There's this boy at school that asked me for a date. He's six eight, and he's a big basketball star at our school. He's a senior, and I think he's already eighteen. I told him I was already seeing someone."

"I think you should go out with him, if he's a nice guy, and if you want to. I can't take you out now, and you're still only sixteen years old. If you were here, it would be different. You should go out with other people, because then, you'd see that just going out doesn't change the way we feel about each other. Its two separate things, Shirley."

"Suppose I decide I want to do things with him, like we did?"

"As long as it's what you want to do. I don't know how you've been, but I really missed having sex."

"You don't want to know. My parents keep saying how sick they are of me being so bitchy to them all the time. I snap at them if they say almost anything to me. I think a lot of it is because I'm so mad that Daddy quit his job, and moved us over here. He had a good job, making a lot more than he does here."

"You've still got your tools?"

"It isn't the same. There's exactly two guys in my school taller than me, the one who asked me out, and this other, black boy, that is already married, and has a little baby with his wife. I either have to go out with Clay, or with nobody."

"Well, I wish you were here, because then you wouldn't have that problem. Have you grown any more?"

"I'm six two and a half now. How about you?"

"I'm probably about that. Since you left, nobody measures me every week."

"The next time you want to make love to somebody, why don't you fly out here to see me?" She said it softly, and I knew she was making me a real offer. I knew it had also involved her swallowing some of her pride to ask me that. Unfortunately, I also knew it wouldn't be a good solution for us. It would be just like before, the two of us trying to avoid admitting it was over. In my mind, that would just prolong the time we'd both be suffering. I didn't want that.

"Because that isn't the way we should try to make things better. If you and I are still going to be separated by so many miles, we should both try to see if we can build a life where we are. You can tell your father that we're making big changes to the way we train our sales people. We aren't training for a one call close anymore. Maybe he'll come back to work with us again."

"What's a one call close?"

"It's something my Dad thinks that yours didn't like teaching. Its a high pressure sales technique. We've made a lot of other changes recently too, and now we're sending people out all over the country in smaller teams. Tell your father that my Dad still likes him, and he's still sorry that your father quit. He could get his old job back, anytime, if he wanted to. All he has to do is call my Dad."

"You don't know my dad very well, not if you think he's ever going to change his mind about leaving. He took a big pay cut to move down here. He isn't even the head sales guy here. He's only a regional sales manager, and one of about five managers who all do the same thing."

"You should tell him anyway, in case he decides he doesn't like where he's working."

When we got through talking, I thought we'd gotten rid of most of the angry stuff. Shirley still was upset, but it was more about the circumstances we were in, and less about my recent actions with Helen. I was thinking about sending Ellen some flowers, to thank her for causing Shirley to call me. I managed to resist that urge, however.

I thought about Shirley going out with someone else. Of course, that led me to thinking about Shirley fucking somebody else. I didn't like that thought at all. I knew what Shirley had felt. I tried to think about all the good reasons why I had thought it was okay for me to take Helen to bed. If they were valid for me, they had to be just as valid for Shirley. I accepted that reasoning in my head. I tried to put those thoughts and images out of my brain.

-------

The whole family turned out for the opening of Gracarie's Cocina. This took place shortly after I spoke with Shirley again. It was more of a private party than an official opening. I met Juan Rodriquez, Marie's husband, for the first time, and he seemed to be a lot older looking than Marie. The food came right off the new menu, and all of us ordered different things, just so we could sample a little bit of a lot of dishes. I had brought over nine of the boys from the group homes, the ones who had lived at St. Cecelia's before. This wasn't the same kind of food we were used to from the orphanage though. This was food made from the best and the freshest of ingredients. When Marie had decent ingredients to work with, her cooking was all delicious. Gerta had come in early to give Marie a hand with cooking. Marie had sent to Arizona, for her younger sister, a widow, to come to Bolling and help her out in the kitchen. She wasn't there yet, because she had needed to have some time to clear up personal matters in Phoenix, before coming out to Kansas.

Being in charge of the kitchen, Marie wanted to control whatever was served. She wanted authentic Cuban and Mexican food, and didn't trust anyone else with her recipes. She had learned these recipes, and had kept them safe since her early childhood. Even the four different kinds of salsas and pico de gallo she made to add new flavors and spice to her food, were from recipes that she kept guarded from anyone else. Marie had insisted that she did the cooking, and that she was only loaning her recipes, not contributing them.

I did notice, right after the restaurant opened, that Gerta started adding different spices to some of her dishes. Two cooks working together, just cannot help learning from each other. After Marie's sister arrived, and Gerta stopped helping her so often, I noticed that Marie requested we buy her three large slow cookers, to prepare her barbecued pork and beef in. Gerta loved her slow cooker, and she used it all the time.

Grace had dressed all of the dining area staff up in a Mexican peasant's outfits, but these outfits were designed to show off the figures of the three college girl waitresses she had hired. It was obvious from the appearance and serving skills of these three girls, that Grace had gone for looks, over waitressing experience, but, she had announced that she had a plan to have them all be trained right away by an experienced, and very competent waitress that she'd employed. This older woman had been working in another restaurant that Grace and Jane often frequented. The girls were enthusiastic, even if they were a little slow in taking our orders, and in remembering who it was that got each dish. They all looked like they were enjoying themselves, and that was a good attitude for them to project to the customers. Grace seemed like a natural, flitting all around, making sure everyone was enjoying themselves, and the food they were eating.

I sat with Joyce and the boys, watching as they conspired to try to taste everything that was on the menu themselves. As the evening wound down, we loaded all the boys up in the fifteen passenger van we'd borrowed from one of the homes, and drove them back to their group homes, so that they could wake up rested and ready for school the following day. On the trip back, their enthusiasm for their night out made me happy that we had included them in the opening party. We dropped the boys off at their group homes, returned the van, then went back to our house in Joyce's big Lincoln Town Car. On the way, we spoke about the restaurant, and about how good everything had tasted. In the end, we talked about how happy and proud Grace and Marie had seemed. I didn't know if the restaurant would ever be a financial success or not, but I knew it was a very good business for those two.

"Kenny, have you noticed that I've started growing?" Joyce was pushing out her chest when she said this to me. "Mama took me to this doctor, and he gave me some shots to stimulate my pituitary gland, and some kind of vitamins, and other things, that are supposed to make my body start growing again. Did you notice my breasts?"

I looked at her chest. There did seem to be some sort of bumps there. I hadn't noticed it before she mentioned it though. We weren't talking about real breasts yet, just small buds, more of a promise of things to come, than real breasts. Because there had been nothing before, even this little bit was noticeable, if it were called to your attention, like these had been.

"I thought you were wearing your special bra. Are those really yours?" I knew better than to make little of her new growth.

"I'm not wearing a bra, Kenny. This is all me."

I thought her "all me" was like her trying to make a pint out of a thimble full, but there was no denying the progress.

"Wow. I'm going to have to keep closer watch. Did you tell the doctor not to make you top heavy? When they get too big, they sag, and leave big red marks on your shoulders, from the bra straps rubbing against you." Joyce giggled, laughing at the thought of what I was warning her against. She had already commenced orthodontic treatment, and had undergone some oral surgery, designed to make it easier for her adult teeth to push through, so that braces could be put on them.

"The doctor says I'm going to get taller too. He says I'm going to be more than five feet tall, as soon as those drugs start to work. The very first thing, after I get more grown, I'm going to throw these pedal extenders away. I can't wait."

"I kind of like those pedal extenders, Joyce. Are you sure you want to get rid of them?"

"Speaking of getting rid of things, did your father tell you he plans to hire Ellen back? He sent Edith a memo, asking her to have Ellen come see him. I found out about it from Myra." I wondered if she was referring to phone room Myra, or to my father's secretary, Myra. If it was his secretary, then that might be a big problem for him. I hoped it was phone room Myra. "Was it Myra in my Dad's office?"

"Yes. Don't worry, though. She didn't tell me. I saw the memo when she was typing it. I had come up there for a purchase order, and I checked to see if that was what she was typing. When I saw it was about Ellen, I read it. Don't tell me I shouldn't read things that aren't any of my business either."

I smiled at her, knowing I might have done the same thing, in her place. My father hadn't said anything about Ellen to me. As far as I knew, the phone room was doing just fine, and all the incoming orders were being processed without any glitches. I was surprised that my Dad would take an action like that, without at least telling me about it beforehand. I was going to bring it up with him as soon as I got any kind of an opportunity. He had told me when I'd fired her, that he wasn't going to overrule me. Joyce was the one that Ellen had threatened. I wanted to ask him if he remembered that.

I saw my dad later that evening, after he and Mama returned from the restaurant opening party. They were in the library, having a night cap when I went in and sat down in my regular chair.

"Joyce told me that you're hiring Ellen back, is that right?" I could see my father trying to figure out how Joyce came into possession of that information.

"I plan on exploring some ideas I've had with her, Kenny, but, I've got no plans for bringing her back to the plant. This is a new project that I wanted to ask her advice and opinion about. A different way for us to try to get some new things accomplished. Ellen is very good on the phones, and I might need someone good, like she is, to give my idea a try. You don't throw away valuable assets just because they didn't work out in one particular situation. If I do decide to use Ellen for this, it won't put her in any contact with Joyce."

"What is your idea?" He hadn't discussed any new ideas with me in the last week or two. He was busy converting our vending sales staff over to the new plan he'd decided to implement. He was having problems with Rob Lucas already, because of implementing the changes over Rob's voiced objections.

"I want someone to set up appointments, for our sales force to come out to make our presentations. Up until now, we've left it up to the salespeople to make their own appointments. Even our best closers spend ninety per cent of their time getting in the door to see the people who make the decisions. I want to give our best people some help with that aspect of their job, so they can concentrate on doing what they're experts at doing. Ellen might be able to find a way to do that for us."

"I'm still not sure why you want Ellen for this. I think she's happy at her other job too. Edith told me she's doing really well."

"Not anymore. Her company folded up three weeks ago. They left a big mess behind too. Shoddy work, or, sometimes, they never even did the work they had promised, and were paid for." Edith came up to me in the parking lot two weeks ago, and she asked me to think about giving Ellen another chance. I didn't want to place Ellen back in her old position, because I didn't want to upset you or Joyce. This is something separate, something she can do for the Lucas Company. She'd be on their payroll, and working under Rob's direction, but from down here, rather than from up in Omaha."

"How is she supposed to get to talk to these important people. Don't our sales people already drop off brochures and sales information before they try for a closing appointment?"

"We haven't worked everything out yet. That was one of the reasons I wanted to meet with Ellen. According to Edith, Ellen's learned a hard lesson from having been fired."

"Ellen isn't going to change, that's just her personality. She likes to stir up trouble for people. She still calls Shirley to tell her what I've been doing. She hasn't changed."

"They're friends. Friends do that, Kenny. You take those kinds of things, and you try to make it into some type of conspiracy, when its just something perfectly natural and ordinary. Didn't you have this same complaint about Brenda and Emily?" This was Mama talking to me, asking me the question. She had been just sitting there, drinking her drink, and listening to Dad and I talking until she finally spoke up.

"That was a little bit different because Brenda wasn't supposed to tell anyone about what we were doing."

"If you don't want people finding out about what you're doing, then, maybe, you shouldn't be doing it in the first place."

Now Dad was starting in, joining the offensive with Mama. I didn't want to be tag teamed by the two of them, so I said I was tired, and headed up to bed. I knew my father wasn't going to change his mind about putting Ellen to work on his idea. I was also aware that Mama had greater tolerance for people who could make her money. If she thought Ellen could help in that regard, she'd be more than willing to forgive any past transgressions. Especially because no one had been really injured by what Ellen had said or done. She didn't count being upset as being the same as having been injured, but I sure did. As long as they kept Ellen away from Joyce and me.

I made a mental note to keep track of how my Dad's idea about getting phone appointments for our sales people worked. If anyone could make it work, Ellen could. As I climbed the stairs with these thoughts, I realized I was becoming more like Dad everyday. I was starting to put business considerations ahead of personal ones. I wasn't convinced that this was a good thing, but I knew I was going to be needing a lot of money if I was going to be able to continue with the program I had embarked upon. I began to understand, really for the first time, that you sometimes had to endure what you found objectionable, rather than fight against it, especially if it meant, by fighting, you'd have to give up something that was far more important to you. The group homes were something that I was willing to tolerate a lot for. In my mind, helping as many boys as I possibly could was going to be my way of thanking Uncle Bunny for him having rescued me. I had a purpose now, one that was more important than I was.

-------

I didn't hear from Shirley again until November. When she called me, early in the afternoon of a week day, I could tell right away that something was troubling her. Shirley and I had always had this tendency of not wanting to inject problems into our discussions. In a way, it was very frustrating for both of us. Some of our worse fights were over things we failed to talk about. We were on the phone for fifteen minutes before I finally had to ask her to tell me what the problem was.

"I did what you told me to, and now I'm sorry I listened to you." Shirley managed to sound upset and sad at the same time when she blurted this out over the phone line.

"What did you do?"

"I went out with Clay." Now, hearing her say that, I got tight in my own stomach, and had to remember to keep breathing.

"Did something happen. Did he hurt you or anything?"

"No. He's a very nice boy. He hasn't hurt me. We've gone out several times. That's not it."

"Well, just tell me why you're sorry you listened to me then."

"Because I like him, but I still love you. He likes me too, and now I don't know what to do."

"Shirley, if we're going to be friends, you really need to start doing what you want to do. I don't want us to have to discuss your boyfriends or my girlfriends. We aren't going to be the kind of friends who can talk about things like that, because we still care about each other in that other way too. You need to decide what to do, without thinking about what I might feel or want. You know I'm right."

"Kenny, I'm afraid if I do anything with him that would mean that I've stopped loving you, and I haven't." Shirley was crying when she said that. I wished she was with me so I could comfort her. More than I hated the idea of her being with someone else, I hated the idea of her feeling bad about something that was going to happen, in spite of how either of us felt about it.

"Shirley, you don't have to make yourself feel bad. Whatever happens, it will be because that was what you decided you wanted to do. We can't be together now, and it looks like you already know you want to do more with this Clay guy. I'm not giving you my permission, because you don't need it. Do what feels comfortable to you. Don't think about us when you decide, think only about what you want."

"Do you think I could do that and still love you?"

"I did it, and I still love you. We weren't only in love with each other for the sex. The sex was one of the ways we expressed what we felt. The feelings came first."

She stopped crying, and we stopped talking about it. I hadn't enjoyed any part of talking about that. It was something I'd done because I knew it was the right thing, for Shirley, for me to have done that. This way, she'd have no reason to stop calling me because she was feeling guilty, and was afraid to tell me what she had done. In my mind, it was just as if she had already done it, and, I felt I could handle that, just as long as I didn't have to deal with any of the actual details of it having happened.

After we had hung up the phone, I realized I hadn't asked her if she'd spoken to her father about what I'd told her. My idea hadn't been too realistic anyway, but knowing she was dating someone else, someone she liked, made it seem easier to accept our separation from each other. It was another link in the chain of the clean break we both said we wanted. I didn't feel relief, but I did start to feel a little less guilty about being horny all the time.



-------

Chapter 17B


It was about a week later before I finally broke down and phoned Helen at her house. Instead of being glad that I'd called her, she started in by complaining about all the time that had passed when I hadn't called her. I listened to her until she wound down enough to finally ask me why I'd called.

"I was thinking about you, and I wondered how you were doing. I didn't know that you'd be angry because I hadn't called you. I told you, that night, that I needed more time to work through some things."

"That was over a month ago. I thought you meant a few more days."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. It isn't over yet for me, but I wanted to check in with you, to see how you were doing."

"You still haven't gotten over that other girl? Ellen told me that girl moved away in July, and now it's November. How much longer is it going to take?"

"I don't know. Look, maybe it was just a mistake for me to call you. I'll tear up your number, and not bother you any more."

"I didn't say I wasn't happy that you called me, just that I didn't think you'd take so long to do it. I'm happy that you called, and as you can tell, I've been thinking about you too. I haven't gone out with anyone, just sitting at home here, waiting for your call. Did Danny ask you anything about me? He said he was going to say something to you about what happened when you brought me back to my car."

"No, he didn't say anything. It wasn't any big deal, we just kissed a little."

"Danny said I'd embarrassed him, and now everyone was teasing him, saying that his sister was a slut."

"I think Danny's exaggerating, trying to make you feel bad, so you'll stop dating me. I haven't even heard anyone mentioning it. When I used to live at the school, the kids were so starved for any excitement, they'd make things seem a lot more important than they were."

"Speaking of you dating me, did you call up to ask me out again?"

"No, I called to see how you were doing. I was thinking about you, that's all."

"How much longer do you think its going to be before you're over her?"

"I thought it might be today, but, after talking to you, I started missing her again."

"You're just saying that to get even with me for yelling at you about not calling me, aren't you?"

"No. I just realized when you started talking about our last date, that I still wasn't ready. I thought I was. Maybe I'll keep your number and call you back the next time I think I'm ready."

After we hung up the phone, which was five minutes later, barely enough time for Helen to tell me how little she cared if I ever called her again, I felt better about how the call wound up. I really had called with the idea of asking her out, but, after her tirade in the very beginning of the call, I decided I didn't really need a date that badly.

Unfortunately, after I had crossed off Helen's name, that left my list of potential people to call for dates, totally empty. There were five other girls I knew, and none of them were suitable for me to ask out on a date. Grace and Jane, for the obvious reasons, and Joyce, because I now considered her my sister. The only two left were Emily and Ellen. Emily might be my half sister, and there was the problem that all our prior history was too closely tied in with Brenda. The only problem with my going out with Ellen was that I couldn't stand her, not since she had started in being friends with Shirley. Before that, I had liked her fine though.

What I really needed, I decided, was a new beginning, someone that I could sleep with without having any real relationship. Something like what I'd had with Bea. That thought made me laugh, because it seemed to me I'd finally come full circle, able now to appreciate what I'd been given before. In one sense, Bea was the one female I'd had the most successful relationship with. We never fought, and the sex, was physically very satisfying, although there wasn't the love I'd felt with Brenda and Shirley. I needed another Bea in my life, but maybe one that was more exclusive than Bea had been.

In the meantime, I was feeling the desire to be with a girl in a social situation. I was horny, but I was also missing the kind of excitement I only felt with being around a girl. It was a lot more than just the sex, it was the interplay, as we danced the opening moves of the mating dance. I knew that part of the reason for my sudden urgency was tied to my earlier conversation with Shirley.

I ended up calling Emily, and we talked on the phone, with me explaining to her that I was feeling lonely. I'd never told her of any of my suspicions about her father being my real father too. I didn't know if he was, or if he wasn't. Emily and I didn't look alike, and neither did Gary and I. In fact, she and Gary didn't look that much alike either. I did wonder what my Dad would think if I started going out with Emily. Emily seemed happy to hear from me, even after we got past the part where she asked about Brenda, and I told her I hadn't heard from her.

"I'm glad you called me, Kenny. After that last dance, I was hoping that you would."

"I've really been busy with a few projects, and with school and everything. Plus, I've been trying to get over Shirley leaving too."

"Do you ever still ride around in that big limo? We used to have a lot of fun riding around like that. I wish things could be like they used to be, when all of us were still friends."

"No, and I'm sure Hans misses it more than you. He used to like driving us all around. He's always trying to encourage me to do more sex things. Sometimes, I feel like I'm letting him down by not being more active in my love life."

"At least you have a love life. I haven't even been out with a real boy since Brenda spread those rumors about me all over the school. I had one girl who called me up though, to tell me she'd be interested. Of course, she's just about the least attractive person in the whole school, so it figures she'd be interested in me."

It's too bad you aren't over here now, it sounds to me like we're both lonely." Not my smoothest invitation, but it was honest at least.

"Do you really mean it? I could come over there if you really do. I already finished all my homework, and it's still early. Did you mean at your house, or up in your room?"

"I meant both, I guess, but I meant that we'd fool around a little, not that we'd have a real relationship."

"Is that little girl still living at your house?"

"If you mean Joyce, then yes, but she isn't a little girl, she's almost twenty years old."

"Kenny, I saw her. She's no more than twelve. Gary danced with her. He said she was too young for him."

"She's a grown woman, Emily. No, she's old enough to be a full grown woman, but she has a condition where she stopped growing too early. Her mind is fully developed though. She just looks like she's a kid."

"I don't know if I should believe you or not. If she's that old, then why did your parents decide to raise her?"

"We aren't raising her. She just lives with us, as a part of our family. She's like my older sister. She works for my Dad, and she has a very important job with our companies. If you talked to her for ten minutes, you'd stop thinking she was just some little kid."

"You aren't doing things with her, are you? Like what we used to do, or what you and Brenda did?"

"No. Although, when I spoke to Brenda about her licking your pussy, I asked her if Joyce could watch her doing it."

"Ugh, that's sick, Kenny. Why would you do that?"

"She wanted to see it. She even wanted Brenda to do it to her too, but that was mostly because she had this other thing she was thinking. I don't think it was because she wanted to be licked. If you had said no, we probably wouldn't have insisted. It was just an idea."

"It wasn't a good idea. It would have spoiled the whole thing for me."

"Really, why? I mean, you didn't mind a bit when Brenda watched me eating you,"

"Because I was hoping she'd decide to do that to me too. I thought if she saw how much I liked it, she'd want to make me feel good that way too."

"I don't think Brenda thinks about things that way. If she saw me doing something to you that you really liked, she'd think I should be doing it to her instead of to you." Emily laughed, admitting that what I said was true.

"Why don't you drive over here and take me for a drive in your car? We could talk about if I should go over to your bedroom sometime. It would be easier for me if we just talked first. The other way, it would be like I was just coming over for us to have sex."

"Emily, kids our age have way more sex in cars than they do in bedrooms."

"I know that, but this other way seems too, I don't know, too blatant, too cut and dried, too matter of fact."

"I'll be there in ten minutes, will you be ready?"

"You know, Kenny, I'm starting to get nervous about this. It was different when we were just talking about it, but now we're doing things to make it real."

"You can ask Gary to come along if you're that worried. We can go grab a hamburger or something. We don't have to do anything." I was surprised when she asked me to hold on while she went to ask him. Emily had always been a bigger talker than a doer. She liked to pretend to be more cosmopolitan and worldly than she really was. The idea of her asking her brother to join us had a funny, almost whimsical appeal to me, after I'd given it some thought. She came back to the phone after about five minutes.

"I asked him, but he needs another hour to finish with his homework. Is that too late?" I looked at my watch, realizing that it was only seven thirty. I knew the diner was open until ten o'clock. I knew we wouldn't have any time to do anything alone together anyway, not after going to the diner first, especially not on a school night.

"I'll see you and Gary in an hour. Do you want me to ask Joyce if she wants to come along to keep Gary company?" I was joking, but was still relieved when she told me I had better not do that. My parents and Hans were over in Bolling, at some kind of charity event, one that wasn't about the group homes. Gerta had made me an early dinner, when I got home from school around four o'clock. I still had two more classes to get prepared for, but I could get one out of the way before I went to pick up Gary and Emily. If I got back before ten thirty, I'd have enough time to prepare for my other class too. I went over to Joyce's room, to see if she had come in when I was talking on the phone. She hadn't. I went back to my room and did my class preparation before heading down for my "date" with the Carstairs kids.

I had a great time at the diner with both of them. I got to know Gary better in a setting where he was comfortable. Now that he was in the senior high, he had blossomed a little socially as well as physically. Apparently, his coordination was catching up to his growth, and he was the only freshman on the high school basketball team. He admitted he wouldn't see that much playing time, but he was just happy to have been kept on the team.

Emily had chosen to sit beside me, both in the car, when we were driving to the diner, and later, while we were in the diner and sitting in a corner booth right by the door. Emily had picked the booth for us. Even alone, Gary looked too tall to sit comfortably in his half of the booth. To me, it was obvious that Emily was using me to show all the other kids at the diner that we were together, a couple. We ordered, and while we were waiting, Emily spent the time waiting by paying rapt attention to me, and to what I was saying. Most of what I was saying was about Gary, and to Gary, concerning his basketball experiences.

We were all eating, when a girl I'd never seen before, stopped by our table to ask Emily a question about something in a class they shared together. Emily introduced her to me, and me to her, before also asking her if she knew Gary or not. Before anyone knew it, she was sitting down next to poor Gary, and he was trying to squeeze his over sized frame into the room the was now left available to him. It was almost painful for me to watch him trying to find a position where he wasn't totally cramped up.

The girl's name was Stephanie, but she told us that she preferred Steph (rhymes with Jeff). It was obvious, right from the beginning, that Steph had her sights set on Gary. It was just as obvious that Gary wanted no part of any of that. Steph was a big girl. Not in height so much, but in weight, which is one of the reasons that Gary found himself so cramped, with her sitting beside him. If she was sitting beside me, I'd have felt cramped too, but not like Gary was.

As if by an unspoken agreement, the three of us wolfed down the remainder of our food. Emily was telling Steph that we had just stopped off for a quick bite, and needed to get back home. Emily and I were already out of our side of the booth and standing there waiting, before Steph took the hint, and got up so that Gary could leave with us. In the car, heading back to the Carstairs house, Emily had fun with Gary, kidding him about how this was just the first of the basketball groupies that would be seeking him out. When I pulled up into their driveway, this time driving past Brownie's dog house, Gary thanked me for the snack and exited from the car like he thought it was on fire. In his haste, he bent Emily almost in two, pushing the backrest forward enough to allow him to open the door and make his escape. As soon as he made it through the front door, Emily and I started laughing about the look of fascination and horror that had swept across Gary's face when he first realized that Steph was interested in him.

"Did you see the way she was looking at him?"

"She reminded me a little bit of how you used to look at Brenda, sort of like how Brownie might look at a big juicy steak."

"I never did. you're just making that up. Gary looked like he didn't know what to do. I bet he's upstairs right now, either hiding in the closet or under his bed."

"All you Carstairs are like that. As soon as someone wants to get in your pants, you run off and hide. He's just taking after his big sister."

"I'm still here, I'm not running off anywhere. I had the best time tonight, even if it was cut short by our visitor. I had forgotten how much fun we used to have, fun that didn't have anything to do with sex. Are you going to take me somewhere now, or do you want to just sit here and talk some more?"

"I'm flexible either way, but I know which option I'd prefer."

"Let me guess, does it involve the two of us being naked somewhere?"

"No. I thought we could go for a walk, the kind we used to take before."

"Kenny we never took any walks together."

"We did too. Remember that night I walked you home, and then we walked back to my house, when you changed your mind about wanting to leave?"

"Yes, now I remember. I'd rather go for a drive though. What time is it? I looked at my watch and it was only a little bit past nine o'clock. I told her what time it was. "We have enough time, if you wanted to drive over to your house and park for awhile."

"My parents are out, but they might come home if we're parked in the driveway. We can drive over to my Uncle's house. No one's there now." She didn't say anything, so I started up my car. It took less than five minutes to get to Uncle Bunny's house, and only another minute to drive my car into his garage and close the door back down after us.

"I thought we were just going to park in the driveway. What time is it now?"

"It's nine fifteen, and we're already parked, like you said. It will take about five minutes to drive back to your house, so we have forty minutes to do whatever you want to do."

"Forty minutes isn't that long a time. If we wanted to do something, that isn't long enough."

"It isn't long enough if we keep wasting our time talking about it. It's enough time for me to make you cum, and for you to make me cum too."

"You make me cum first." I saw her smiling in the dark as she started pulling off her jeans. I opened my car door, so the light would come on. I wanted to watch her getting undressed, and I planned to put her in my back seat so we'd both have more room. "Does that door open up to the house, Kenny?" She was pointing over to the door that led to the wash room, where the washer and dryer were kept.

"It leads to a way to get into the house. Do you want to go inside with me?"

"If we're going to do this, we should be comfortable. Wouldn't it be more comfortable inside?" She had her jeans off already, and she got out and walked over to the door in front of me. I had to unlock the door, and then I needed to put in the alarm combination too. I took her hand and led her through the wash room and into the main house. I turned on a few lights as we made our way back to Uncle Bunny's bedroom. When I turned on those lights, I remembered the time when I'd had Helen on that same bed. Everything was cleaned up in the room again, and I started getting undressed too.

We didn't do too much kissing, and before I had time to even get her warmed up, she was shoving her pussy into my face. She had gotten herself ready, it appeared. It didn't take long to get her over the top. I let her rest for a few minutes while I spent some time with her breasts. She had very nice ones, and they'd grown since my last sight of them. We didn't speak. When I thought she was ready for more, I trailed my lips and tongue back down to her pussy and ate her to a second, even stronger orgasm. This time, when I was finished, she moved down to me, and started kissing my face herself. Next, she moved down my body until she had my dick in her hand, and her tongue close to it. This time she didn't tell me to make it smaller first. She went right to work, completing her end of our agreement. It didn't take long, and she didn't pull off when I started to cum. She kept sucking until it got too sensitive, and I moved her mouth off of me.

"What time is it now?"

"It's fifteen until ten."

"I'm going to be late getting home."

"No, we can still get dressed and drive back by ten."

"No, I want you to fuck me now, Kenny. I'm ready."

I had rubbers in my pocket. I'd brought them in case something like this happened. I wanted to fuck her too, but, not without first telling her about my suspicions about her father possibly being mine.

"Emily, there's something I need to tell you first. It's something I should have told you even before we both did this." I told her about my real mother, and about how there were rumors about her father and my birth mother. I was getting to the part about the two of us possibly being related, when she started laughing, and leaned in to give me a smothering kiss. "What?"

"Gary and I were both adopted. He and I aren't even real brother and sister. I thought Brenda told you that about us. It's really funny when I think about it. Of all three of us, you might be the only one who's related by blood to our father. So, let's quit talking about it, and finish what we started." Emily flopped down on her back and spread her legs open. I put a condom on and eased myself between her legs. I scanned my mind, but I had no mental or physical reservations about Brenda, Shirley, or anyone else.

Emily was tight, not so much at her opening, or even going in the first two or three inches, but after that, the going was more difficult. I was able to make only slow progress, and a few times she asked me to stop, to allow her get better accommodated to me. We never discussed quitting though, and each time we paused, after a few minutes, Emily would signal me that she was okay again, and she would begin urging me to continue. I'm not sure which of us was more relieved when I ran out of dick to try to force inside her. We started moving smoother though, just as soon as I put my hands under her butt, and tilted her forward.

There was no question in my mind that I'd enjoyed the first five minutes of our fucking more than she had. The middle five minutes was probably a tie, because we were both concentrating on how good things were beginning to feel for us. That last five minutes though, it wasn't even a contest.

Emily had to have enjoyed it a lot more than I did. Her little pussy clamped down on the front part of my dick, and she started cumming so hard that she went a little out of her mind as she was doing it. She thrashed around, flailing with her arms and her legs, until she started beating me hard, on my ass and thighs, with the heels of both her feet.

Her arms were almost as bad as he legs, but it was her fingernails that were the absolute worst. She raked my arms and all over my back, each of them, several times, before she was finished. I was actually in too much pain to cum myself.

I didn't find anything even the least bit sexy, being pummeled and scratched by Emily. I remember wishing she'd cum more like Shirley or Brenda. I didn't mind all the yelling Shirley did, and I had liked Brenda's squirting when she came.

I don't even think I would have known what was happening if Bea hadn't warned me about this kind of possible response with some women. I vowed that this would be the only time I'd ever let Emily do this to me. If we ever did it again, I'd have her hands pinned, and have her legs trapped in the up position with both my forearms. What she had done had really hurt.

After she calmed down, it all hurt even worse. I was bleeding from over half the scratches. Emily apologized, telling me she hadn't even been aware of what she was doing to me. I let her finish me off with her mouth, after I found some Bactine ointment in Uncle Bunny's medicine cabinet. Emily applied the ointment first, and then really gave it her best effort to make me cum again.

I told her what I was going to do to her the next time we made love, and she pretended not to understand what I meant, until I gave her an actual demonstration. Of course, as soon as Emily understood how little movement this would allow her, she asked me to fuck her again, right then, encouraging me by telling me that she'd really like to see me trying to keep her arms and legs immobilized.

It wasn't until I told her it was after eleven o'clock that she relented, and only then, after making me promise to do that to her the very next day, right after I got home from school. I told her I was going to be pretty sore the next day, so I wasn't going to be allowing her any free movement at all, not if I could help it. That just seemed to make her even more anxious to try it.

I had a hard time falling to sleep after I finally got to bed, after twelve thirty. I had finished all my class preparation, but I had to sleep on my stomach, and that wasn't a position I was used to. The next morning, I woke up tired and cranky. In the shower, all of my wounds hurt more, as soon as the hot spray hit them. I had to go get Joyce, and have her help me apply more Bactine on my back, although I could do my arms by myself. When I put on my uniform jacket, it felt like someone was forcing me to sleep on a bed of nails. It was only when I remembered the two good blow jobs I'd gotten, that I was able to put everything into its proper perspective. Pain or no pain, I still felt better than I had the day before.

At school, the first person I ran into was Daniel Carroll. He was outside 'Joke Hall' keeping an eye out for my car. He ran over and handed me the sealed envelope from his sister. I made a point of smiling at him, because I knew he'd hate it, then I put the unopened envelope in my pocket, unread.

I read her note when I first came home, even before I got out of my car.

"Dear Lover Boy,

I'm sorry I acted like such a snot to you on the phone yesterday. Call me again, and this time, I promise I'll treat you better.

XOXOXOXO

Helen

I read the note over several times. I thought back to the last conversation Helen and I had shared. I got out of my car and went up to my room, changing into some more comfortable clothes for doing my studying in. I went over to my desk and pulled out a piece of note paper.

Dear Helen,

I received your note. Sorry to have to inform you of this, but I've since made different arrangements. Thank you for your previous interest and efforts.

Kenny

I read this a few times, and it didn't strike the right tone that I wanted to convey. I got another sheet of paper and started over again.

Dear Helen,

I think you were right to feel the way you did, yesterday on the telephone. I'm glad we had some time together, but now I think we'd both be better off if we continued to go our separate ways.

XO,

Kenny

After I had read it over, I was satisfied with it. I got an envelope out and placed the note inside, and sealed the flap. I'd give Daniel the envelope the next morning, as soon as I saw him. I knew that Helen and I would have had a much better relationship if I had waited longer to get together with her. I should have responded to her first note with a return note of my own, telling her that I was thinking about her, but not yet ready to go out with someone new. I hadn't given her a fair chance, and I knew it. Still, she hadn't behaved that well when I'd gotten back to her the day before. The honest truth was, I really didn't want to go through a real romantic relationship again, not so soon after Shirley.

I already had a strong inkling that at least part of the reason why Emily had wanted me to take her to the diner, and later, to let me fuck her, was that she was hoping to use me as some sort of bargaining chip with Brenda. I think she thought that Brenda would contact her after one of Brenda's friends told her that Emily and I had been seen together. It was only an inkling, and I confess, the thought of her succeeding didn't upset me. I thought it was like a chess game, with all of us making moves and counter moves.

I spent the next two hours preparing myself for my next day's classes. After, I called over to each of the group homes and got a report on what had happened, and a list of things they wanted me to get done for them. Sandy handled most of these things, but sometimes, there were requisitions that I had to approve and authorize. I also wanted to keep myself informed.

At seven forty five, after I'd finished eating my dinner, I went back upstairs and called Emily. She mentioned that she was beginning to think I'd forgotten my promise to her. I asked her if she was ready for me to come get her or not. Her reply reinforced my inkling, because she wanted to make a quick stop at the diner to see who was there, and possibly get a Coke or something. I agreed, and by eight o'clock, we were seated in the same booth at the diner that we'd been sitting in the previous day. This time, Emily not only sat close to me, she had both her arms around my arm. She even made quite a production out of lifting my hand up, and kissing some of my fingers.

"I think that might just be overkill, Emily. I think everyone present knows that we're here together, and that we're more than just friends. I'm sure someone will eventually tell Brenda about it."

"I wasn't thinking about Brenda, Kenny. I was thinking about all the kids from the high school that believed what Brenda said about me."

"Should I throw you on the table and fuck you in front of them? Would that help to change their minds about whether Brenda was telling the truth?"

"Kenny!" She giggled, looking around first to see if anyone had heard me. "You don't need to be like that. Now that you mention it though, maybe somewhere more private would be better. Let's go."

I noticed she hadn't touched her Coke. I paid the bill and we got in my car and left.

"We're going to my house tonight. My bed has a headboard in case I need to tie your hands. My back is a mess, and I don't want any more of that." I had expected her to raise an objection, to ask me to take her to Uncle Bunny's where it would be more private, but she didn't say anything. When we parked in front, I took her hand and led her inside the house. Gerta saw us come in, and I told her that Emily and I were going upstairs for awhile. I told her to take any phone messages for me.

When we got upstairs, Mama and Joyce were just coming out of Mama's room. I said hello to them both, and so did Emily. I noticed Emily looking at Joyce more closely than she had before, at the dance, when they'd first met.

"Sorry we can't stay and chat more, but I promised Emily I'd help her with something tonight. Maybe we'll see you downstairs later, if we get finished in time."

Mama smiled at me, but Joyce had a worried look on her face. I turned us to the left and walked to my room, with Emily firmly in tow. Inside my room, I locked my door and told Emily to get undressed, and then get up on the bed. I was again surprised when she stayed so docile, and just obeyed me. I went over to my closet and pulled out a handful of rubbers, walking back to my nightstand and placing them there. Emily was taking off her blouse when I got there. She had already taken off her shoes, socks, jeans and panties. I paused to watch her finish getting undressed. She had a wonderful body, the equal in every respect to Brenda's, plus her boobs were now larger. I shucked out of my clothing quickly and joined her on the bed. We spent about ten minutes in preliminaries, but it was Emily who stopped me to tell me she wanted to start fucking. I put a rubber on, and then I put myself between her legs, lifting up her legs with the crook of both my arms. I then grabbed both her wrists with my hands and kept them forced down by her sides. I hadn't done anything to even put my dick in her yet, and she was already writhing around, trying to free her hands.

I bent down to kiss her face, her breasts and her neck. she started humping her hips around, trying to trap my dick in her wet furnace. She even succeeded twice, but each time, I pulled my hips back, and continued kissing her again.

"Kenny, please. Put it in me, I'm ready." I ignored her pleas, knowing that she'd be more ready if I kept her pinned like that and continued to kiss her body. It went on like that for another ten minutes. I could feel the dampness on my covers, as her pussy seeped, and from all the sweating she was doing from all that moving around. The room took on the scent of all those fluids leaking from her pussy and her pores. I waited until her movements once again captured the head of my dick. When I felt it was the right time, I began to press forward into her.

This time, there was no resistance. She welcomed all of me, taking me within her fully, in just a few scant seconds. Again she started getting wilder, but this time it wasn't because she was cumming. This time it was because she was trapped under me, and she was fighting to try to get herself free.

Bea had told me about some girls having these rape fantasies, where they were trapped, forced to submit against their will. I had no doubt that Emily was experiencing her own, private, rape fantasy right then. If I had pulled out and let her go, she would have pleaded with me to put it back in and to hold her just like I was then. Instead of allowing her to get free, I began holding her even more firmly, and pounding away at her. This action was soon rewarded, first with a small cum, and then a larger one that caused her to cry out a little. Still I continued, knowing that it was the situation she was in, not me, that had her sweating and responding at such a fevered pitch. I was rewarded with her going totally rigid again, trying to trap my dick inside her clasping vaginal walls. This time, I made a greater effort and escaped her grip enough to pull out halfway before plunging back into her, time and time again. I was subduing her pussy, at a time when her pussy wanted and needed to be left alone, and given the time to sooth all those ragged nerve endings put in play by the strength of her cum. Having me ramming myself up inside her and back wasn't what her pussy wanted. This only served to add to her fantasy, until, at the end, she really was resisting, even though she was still cumming for all she was worth.

When she finally accepted that I was in control of her, and that her only choice was to try to stop resisting and wait for me to finish with her, I felt her relaxing and her acceptance of my stroking inside her. This brought on a different kind of responsiveness, different from what I got from Bea and Helen, this was more like what I'd learned to love and expect from Shirley. It was Emily yelling encouragement for me to continue doing whatever it was I was doing to her. Emily wasn't as graphic in her descriptive language, or as inventive in describing our play by play, but she was just as loud, and her body pressed up against me in the same way Shirley's always had. It had that same heat too, and I could feel it as the warmth kept increasing.

I had finally gotten back to where I wanted to be, totally enveloped with a girl who was desperate for me to give her exactly what I was desperate to give her. The advantage this time was that I was able to get there without needing to be hopelessly, desperately, and completely in love with the girl I was sharing this with. The disadvantage was exactly the same as the advantage. I was there with someone who wasn't the one girl I still loved. It had proved to be another disappointing journey for me, as I started cumming from way deep inside myself. These kinds of orgasms weren't what you could get from masturbation. These were on a physical plane far above that. This one just wasn't on a scale comparable to the emotional plane I'd reached with Shirley, or, to a somewhat lesser extent, with Brenda.

That said, it was still enough for me. What I hadn't found with Helen, I did find, this time with Emily. She could take me where I needed to go. I looked down at her, and she was looking back at me with something new in her eyes. She had discovered something that was probably similar to what I'd found. She could get to where she needed to go too. The sadness we both felt was from the same realization, that this was as close as either of us was likely to ever get again, to having what we both really wanted.



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Chapter 18

It was ten o'clock by the time Emily and I left my bedroom. We had enjoyed another, slower and more relaxing fuck, then, in the shower after, our fooling around had led to the two of us rolling around on the bathroom floor, locked in an energetic sixty nine. Once more back into the shower, before we finally got around to dressing, and making our way out of my bedroom.

Mama and Joyce were sitting in the library when we came down to the first floor. Mama pretended that nothing unusual had happened upstairs, and that she hadn't noticed any of the loud screams that Emily had issued. Instead, she inquired about Emily's parents and even asked how her school studies were going. Joyce was sitting next to Mama on the small settee, and she was scowling at Emily and I, not speaking, but registering her disapproval with her expressions.

I drove Emily home, with her asking me if we could get together over the coming weekend. She said she definitely wanted me to escort her to the dance at the club on Saturday. We spoke quietly, with me being less inclined to commit spending too much time to furthering her desire that we be perceived as being a couple.

"Em, I told you that I'm not that interested in having another girlfriend. I've made that clear to you, haven't I?"

"Don't be silly, Kenny. What else would you call it? We're a couple now."

"No, we're not. I told you that I was too busy to get involved like that. I'm lonely, but not for a girlfriend. I like what we've been doing, but I'm not going to let myself spend most of my free time and energy playing the couples game with you. You're using me for some things, and I'm using you for some things, but that's it. We're going to be friends, and that's all."

I saw her face get red and blotchy with her anger. I had figured this was going to happen. I had decided to try to nip it in the bud. It was one thing for me to go along with a little of her play acting for the kids at the diner, but I wasn't interested in becoming the focus of her social life. I'd told her as much when we first started talking, and nothing we'd done had changed that for me.

"No one will believe you're my boyfriend, if you aren't around all the time acting like it. I'm doing everything your other girlfriends did for you, why won't you treat me the same way you treated them?"

"I can't really explain the difference, but I'm just busier now than I was back then. I've made other commitments, and they're taking a lot of my free time. For right now, these things are more important to me than having a girlfriend could be."

"You only said you weren't ready for a girlfriend, not that you didn't have the time. Can't you make enough time, and still do the other things?"

No, I really can't. Even in the time we've spent together, I've been putting off getting things done that need doing. I need to study more for school, and I have to stay on top of those other projects I'm working on. They're important, and I've already committed myself to doing what I can to help them succeed."

"It doesn't have to be every night, and it wouldn't take three or four hours for us to be together. All I'd expect would be a few phone calls, and for us to do things once or twice a week."

"We've already done things for this week then, and I'm going to be busy all this weekend, trying to get things done that I've been putting off so we could do these things. I usually have time for a quick phone call, so that's no problem, but, what I have in mind for us, what my preference would be, is the two of us being friends who like to fuck sometimes. Like what I had with Bea, no emotional entanglements, or any of the obligations of being your boyfriend."

"Even Brenda offered me a better deal than that, when we were friends."

"Well, part of the reason I'm bringing this up now is because I didn't want us to be arguing about what each of us expects from the other. I don't want a girlfriend right now, and I'm not going to do all the things a boyfriend needs to do."

"I'm supposed to do all the things a girlfriend does, but only because we're friends?"

"Have I asked you to do anything you didn't want to do? I didn't ask to fuck you, you said you wanted to. We were talking about helping each other out, as friends, but now you're trying to move things up past what we talked about."

"I really thought tonight was different for us, Kenny. It was more like we were really a couple. Didn't you feel like we were?"

A couple, sure, I guess so. Not boyfriend and girlfriend though. Just two friends, a boy and a girl, who felt like getting together to give each other pleasure. Maybe I didn't say it right to you earlier, but I just can't handle any emotional involvement now. I need to keep my head clear right now, and I have to make sure nothing comes between me and what I need to do. I like you, Em, really, and I'm glad we're friends again. I just can't get emotionally involved with you, and I can't devote a lot of time to being with you."

Emily looked a bit angry still, but it seemed a more a resigned anger, or maybe, just a disappointed feeling. She wasn't still all blotchy, and didn't seem ready to yell at me, like she had been earlier. She took her time before responding to me. I could sense her wanting to choose the right words to say to me.

"I understand now, Kenny. This is different than I'd led myself to think it was. You always did talk about us just being friends before. I'm not sure if that is going to be enough for me. You're right about us not doing anything I haven't wanted to do. Where you are wrong is in believing I gave myself to you in friendship, or just because we were both horny. At least, that isn't how it was for me tonight. I thought about you all day today, from the second I woke up, until you finally called me. That's a lot different than just having a friend. If we continue now, it will be an unequal friendship, just like what I had with Brenda. I'm not sure I can go through another friendship like that."

"I don't think I'm at all like Brenda, Em. For one thing, I don't feel like I'm better than you, and I don't expect you to get less pleasure than I do whenever we're together. You have to make the decision about if you see enough differences that you want to continue with me. We can be friends without the sex, and I don't want you to think that's the only reason I want to be friends with you. I don't know if I'll be caught up by Saturday night or not, but, if I am, I'll probably see you out at the club, at the dance. If I do see you there, I'll stop off to say hello. Maybe we can have a dance or two?"

"I've got to get inside now, Kenny. I was really late last night. Whatever tonight was to you, I really had a good time. I'm sorry it wasn't what I thought it was." With that, Emily opened the car door and ran off before I had a chance to say anything more to her. I stayed to watch her reach her front door, then I started my car and drove back home.

I got home, and Mama and Joyce were still up, and still sitting on the settee in the library. I could see that Joyce had been crying, and knew it must have started since Em and I'd been gone. Mama had her arm around her, and she was comforting her.

"Kenny, you've upset Joyce. Please come here, and let me see your arms and back. Take off that shirt."

I looked over at Joyce, a little surprised that she had mentioned my scratches to Mama. I peeled off my shirt and turned my back to them. I saw my father coming out of his study. When he noticed all of us in the library, and me with my shirt off, he came in to see what was happening. The front and sides of my arms had long, ugly looking, scratches on them too, so he got a look at some of the wounds Emily had given me.

"Is that from tonight, Kenny?" My father pointed at my arms as he came nearer. He had a concerned look on his face.

"No, it happened last night. It isn't anything, just a few scratches."

"Turn around, Kenny, and show your father your back. Thomas look at what that girl has done to his back." Mama had gotten up from the settee, but Joyce was still sitting down. I turned and looked directly at Joyce, but she didn't return my gaze. Her face was flushed with embarrassment. I don't think she expected Mama to confront me about my injuries, at least not while she was still there. I wasn't angry with her, although I was somewhat disappointed.

"Damn, that girl needs to get her nails trimmed. She sure did a number on you. How come there are no fresh scratches on you now? From the noises coming from your room tonight, she sounded worked up enough to be scratching you again."

"Tonight, I made sure she couldn't do that again. Last night, I didn't know that she reacts this way when she's having some really good orgasms."

"I don't doubt that a bit, Kenny. Who would have expected something like that? Why didn't you stop her when she started doing that?"

"I was pretty busy doing something else, and it really didn't hurt that much at first. It kept getting more serious as time passed."

"Yes, well that's another point in favor of being gentle and civilized in your lovemaking, isn't it?" My father seldom missed an opportunity to note any fact that pointed out how right he was with some earlier assertion. This comment was aimed at Mama.

"Perhaps you have a point this time, Thomas. I wonder if Kenny is going to suffer permanent scarring from these wounds?" Mama seemed more upset by these scratches than they deserved. It wasn't as if Emily had inflicted them on purpose.

"I can assure you, Mama, it won't happen again." Mama looked up at my face when I said that.

"Did something take place after you left to take her home, Kenny? She seems like such a nice girl."

"We talked, but that wasn't what I meant. I meant that I've found a way to make sure her hands aren't free to scratch me, or her legs either, to beat my thighs and bottom. I keep her immobilized."

"Immobilized?" Mama looked worried.

"Yes, so she can't move and do that anymore. It works too. She kept trying to get free tonight, but I was able to restrain her easily. I think she liked it too."

"Kenny, I don't like the sounds of what I'm hearing. You weren't ah, restraining her against her will were you?" My Dad sounded very nervous when he asked me that.

"No, of course not. I mean, she wanted me to let her arms go, and she tried her hardest to escape, but I think she really wanted me to hold her that way. I'm sure it was a fantasy of hers or something, and it sure made her get a lot hotter faster."

"This isn't something you want to play with, Kenny. It's awfully easy to have a misunderstanding about these kinds of things. You might take it farther than she wanted you to." My Dad looked even more uncomfortable. Then, my mother jumped in again.

"Nonsense. I'm much more worried about Kenny's back. I'm sure she enjoyed being immobilized tonight. You heard her, we all did, Thomas. Did that sound like she was being mistreated to you? It didn't sound like that to me."

"Bertie, you're deliberately missing my point. Sometimes these things can get out of hand, and people can be injured badly."

"Thomas, Kenny has already indicated that he has matters under control. I personally spoke with her afterwards, and she seemed perfectly content with Kenny, perfectly content. Wouldn't you say so, Joyce?"

"I was too busy looking to see if she had any new blood under her nails. Kenny, why would you want to give her another chance to hurt you like that? I think she's terrible. You can do a lot better than her." Joyce was clearly upset. Was it because she thought Emily had hurt me on purpose, or because she was jealous of Emily? I had already known that Joyce had some sort of a crush on me, going back to the first week I hired her. For some reason, she thought I was responsible for all the good changes in her life.

She was like a sister to me now, and I didn't have any sexual interest in her at all. I should have been more circumspect with her, and not brought Emily home to spend time with me in my bedroom. I didn't want to hurt Joyce, but I needed to let her know that the love I had for her was purely a platonic love.

"Joyce, people react differently to pleasure. I told you that Emily did this without even realizing she did it. She wasn't thinking about what her hands or feet were doing. When you get a boyfriend, you'll understand what I mean."

Joyce started crying again and ran out of the library and up the stairs. Mama glared at me. I knew I was going to get a lecture about being insensitive to Joyce's feelings again. Several times in the past, I'd said things, or made a joking comment, and Joyce had reacted to it in this same way. Sometimes, I thought it was more a case of Joyce being too sensitive, rather than any of us being insensitive. Dad had gotten the same response from some of his comments. Mama always spoke down to Joyce, treating her like a very young girl, acting as if her appearance predicted her age, rather than the birth certificate she had shown us. Joyce seemed to relish Mama talking to her this way. Our family was wonderful in many ways, but we were also a little bit abnormal in some ways.

I went up and went to bed. When I woke up at six o'clock the next morning, Joyce was in bed with me, sleeping. I got out of bed and went and showered, getting ready for my final day of school before the weekend. My back felt well enough that I didn't put any ointment on it. I did my arms though, because I could reach them myself. When I came out of the bathroom, Joyce was sitting up in bed.

"I'm sorry, Kenny. I shouldn't have told her about your scratches, but, when I started crying, right after you left with Emily, she asked me why, and your scratches were all I could come up with to tell her."

"That wasn't why you were really crying?"

"No."

"Were you upset because Emily and I were up in my room having sex?"

She nodded, starting to cry again. "I know that's just stupid, but I can't help it if I feel that way."

"Emily and I are just friends, Joyce. I don't love her or anything. Sometimes, when two friends get horny, they help each other out that way. It doesn't mean that much."

"We're friends, and I'm horny, Kenny. Are you going to help me out too?" Joyce lifted her head to watch my face, wanting to see my reaction when she asked her question.

"We're much more than just friends now, Joyce. You know I love you, but you're my sister now. I need to have someone around I can turn to when things get too hard for me, and that's you. Sex would spoil what we have, and you know that. We'll both have lots of sex partners, but you're my only sister. We can't have sex, but if it bothers you too much, I won't bring girls home anymore to have sex with them."

"I knew you were going to say that. I didn't really want to have sex either. I get worried though sometimes, that you'll find someone, and then you won't have any more time for me."

"Joyce, I promise that won't ever happen. You're part of my family, and I could never not have time for you. Speaking of time, young lady, isn't it about time you got off your little butt and went to get ready for work? Somebody's got to make sure that things keep going well for all of us."

"I had to sneak into your room last night, Kenny. I was going to apologize to you, but you were already asleep. I got the idea to climb into bed with you, but then I chickened out, and all I did was peek at you, under your sheets. Are you mad at me for doing that?"

"I'm not mad. I was tired last night, and I must have forgotten to lock my door. I usually lock it at night."

"I know. I was surprised when your door opened up. I've tried it a couple of other times, and it was always locked."

"Joyce, if you're so curious, all you have to do is ask me. You don't have to sneak around."

"I'd like to see your dick when it gets hard. When I saw it before, it was soft. Did Emily take all your hardness away yesterday?"

"I wouldn't say all of it. Too bad you were still asleep when I got up this morning. It was really hard then."

"From seeing me sleeping in your bed?" Joyce had an anxious and hopeful smile when she asked me that. I didn't want her thinking that way either though.

"No, I always get a hard on when I first wake up, because I need to go pee. It's called a piss hard on, and that's about as hard as it gets."

"Tomorrow, when you wake up can you come over to my room and show it to me? I'd like to see yours when it's hard."

"Just mine or anyone's?"

"Just yours for right now. Maybe later, I'll try to see others though."

I was running late, so I walked her out of my room and hurried down to my car, without breakfast. In the parking lot at the academy, I went over my notes before my first class. We were having a big test, and I hadn't studied as diligently as I normally would. I got lucky though, and the answers came to me very easily. In fourth period, a class I hadn't prepared for the night before, my teacher called on me twice, both times with questions I knew the answers to. On one, dealing with the play, Richard the Third, I was able to answer all three of his follow up questions about Josephine Tey's book 'The Daughter of Time', dealing with the War of the Roses, Richard III, and with the drowning of the Duke of Clarence in a butt of Malmsley. Each of the follow up questions were for extra credit. I was fortunate that I'd read the book and the information was still fresh in my mind.

At home Friday, I got caught up with some group homes business, then I went over the first hastily prepared monthly profit and loss statement from the operation of the restaurant. The gross receipts were good, but the expenses were higher than we'd anticipated. It looked like it would take some time for the restaurant to operate at a profit. Marie's sister had taken over the breakfast duties, was helping at lunch, with Marie handling the dinner cooking alone. So far, lunch was the busiest time for the restaurant. Breakfast was the least busy meal for us. Grace had appointed her experienced waitress to run the restaurant in the mornings, then help the other waitresses learn waitressing before the lunch crowd started. Grace was coming in at around ten thirty, and handling duties until the close at nine o'clock. Jane was coming in after she was done with her studies and homework, to spend time with Grace, and help out wherever she could.

At seven thirty, feeling a little anxious about the reception she'd give me, I dialed Emily's number. When Gary answered, he and I had a nice conversation about the game he'd played in the day before. He only played for about five minutes, he said, but he scored three points and got four rebounds, two of them offensive, but on the same play. He had rebounded a teammates missed shot, then he'd missed a lay up attempt, from nerves he confessed, then rebounded his own missed shot, and made the next lay up attempt. He was kidded by his teammates that he was just trying to pad his statistics by using his first miss to get his second offensive rebound. We had been talking for about ten minutes when Gary finally called Emily to the phone. She was really mad at him, as soon as she realized that I was on the other end of the phone line, and the call had been for her.

"I need my own phone line. Gary shouldn't have bored you with all that talk about his basketball game. I thought it might have been Steph calling him. She came to the game last night, and Gary said she waited outside the boy's locker room for him to come out, so she could tell him how much she enjoyed watching him play."

"That girl knows talent. She picked him out even before he played in a game. Wasn't last night the first game of the year?"

"How should I know? I don't follow basketball. If you like it though, maybe we could go to a game together some night?"

"Maybe we could double with Gary and Steph?" We laughed at the image of the two of them crammed in together at the diner or in the back seat of my Cadillac. Since Emily didn't bring up our conversation of the night before, I wasn't going to either. "I got caught up on a lot of things this afternoon. I was thinking about going over to the diner, to get a Coke and some fries. If you want me to, I could stop off and pick you up on the way?"

"My friend came today." I thought she meant there was someone there with her, that she had company and couldn't leave.

"Ask her if she wants to come with us." Emily started laughing.

"It isn't a girl." She was laughing too much for me mistaking her friend being a female if he was a male. She hadn't told me if it was a girl or a boy. The it she used though caused me to stop and think.

"You meant your period started?"

"That's right. That's funny, Kenny. 'Ask her if she wants to come with us.' I can't wait to tell my friends what you said at school on Monday."

"So, since it's only your period, do you want to go or not?"

"Of course, if you still want to?"

"I'll see you in about ten minutes. Do you think we should ask Gary?"

"No, he'd just keep talking about his silly game. I'd much rather have you all to myself."

I drove over and picked her up, it was a little before eight. She got in the car and crawled over for a kiss. We actually spent a long time kissing, much more than we usually did.

"Ready to go?" We had broken our clinch, and Emily's enthusiasm had produced a hard on for me.

"I'm not really in the mood to eat or drink anything at the diner. Do you want to drive over to your Uncle's house, and maybe we could talk there?" Emily had her hand resting in my lap when she asked me that. I knew she meant more than just for us to talk. That had been some kiss.

I'd had sex with Shirley and with Bea when they were menstruating, and, other than needing a towel for the blood, it was fine with me. Shirley used to get horny easier when she was having her period. I backed out of the driveway and drove over to the house Uncle Bunny had left me. This time, I pulled in front and parked the car.

Inside the house, we walked back to the master bedroom and Emily started undressing right away.

"You get undressed too, Kenny. We can make out. I get nice and sensitive right before and during my periods. I've been thinking about last night too. I liked how strong you were. I never really thought you could hold me down like that. Even now, when I think about it, it turns me on." I didn't reply, but I went to the linen closet and got a dark bath towel out. When I came back with the towel in my hand, I noticed Emily smiling. She was already undressed, and I could see the little Tampon string hanging out of her pussy, swaying between her legs like a fuse. When I spread out the towel on the bed covers, Emily hurried to take her place on it, careful to get her hips centered just right on the towel. She reached over on the nightstand and grabbed five or six tissues from the box. I was getting out of my own clothes while she was removing her Tampon and wrapping it in the tissues.

We were lying together kissing, and I had to caution her about putting her hands on my sore arms and back. She decided to put her hands behind her head while we kissed. I spent a lot of time nibbling her neck and kissing her breasts. I felt her pussy for moisture, then toyed for a few minutes with her clit while I continued kissing her. She had moved her hands so they were around my neck, and she was kissing me back with fervor. When I tried her pussy again, it was noticeably more moist. I opened the packet for the rubber, and placed it on my dick. I got into position and lifted her legs again, pinioning her wrists just like I had before.

Again, Emily started trying to escape from my grasp. This time she also made an attempt to pull my hands off of her by using her legs to push my arms back away from her. I let her think she was almost going to succeed, but I leaned down and bit at her nipple. Not a hard bite, but enough to let her know I could do it if I chose to. This time I positioned my cock so that it sat on top of her pussy, and I pressed back and forth and lowered my weight on her as I did it. Instead of assisting me, this time she moved her hips so that I slid off her pussy, to one side. I leaned down and bit her other nipple, a little harder this time. After I stopped, I moved both her hands above her head and trapped both her wrists with my right hand.

This left me with a free hand, and I reached forward with my weight to bend her body even more forward, lifting some of her ass off the towel. I gave her a smack on her butt cheek, then reset my dick on top of her pussy again. She let me rub it back and forth for about twenty seconds this time, before moving her hips some more, making my dick push off to the side again. I gave both of her nipples tiny little nips with my teeth, and then I smacked her twice on her buttocks. Both times I did this, she jumped, and started moving her hips around, attempting to return my cock to her pussy. I waited for a minute, then returned my cock to where it would again slide over her clit, resuming my rocking motion, steadily moving my dick up and back through her gaping pussy lips, and over her distended clit.

"Put it in me, Kenny."

"I don't think so, Em. Your pussy's all bloody. My cock will get all messy with your blood."

"No it won't. Even if it does, it will come off in the shower. Stop teasing me. I want it."

"You can't always have what you want, Em. I bet you'd like a nice orgasm right about now. I know you like it when I hold you so tight you can't escape. Do you like being helpless? Does it turn you on knowing I can do anything I want to you?" She was squirming all around by then. Everything she did felt good on my dick too. I wasn't sure who was teasing who. It didn't matter, because we were both getting very hot by then.

I reached around with my free hand and stuck a finger in her pussy. She shut her eyes, groaned, and then tried moving her hips back so that more of my finger would be in her. I pulled it out, rubbing it off on the towel.

"Lot of blood on that finger, Em. Maybe we should just wait until you stop bleeding?" She wiggled more, which again moved my dick off to the side. I bit both nipples again, smacked her ass three times, and reset my dick again. This time, I could feel her assisting me as I slid back and forth. Each time I put a lot of pressure on her clit, she would give out another little moan and try to lift herself up. I stopped again, knowing she was getting close. I took my middle finger this time, and brought it over to her butt hole. I swirled the finger slowly and lightly around her sphincter, not trying to put it in her ass, just letting her know which part of her body I was thinking about."

"No blood in that hole, Emmy. Maybe I should fuck you there?" I continued to hold her so she couldn't move as I toyed with her butt. "You ever put anything big back there?"

"No. I don't want that, Kenny. Let me up and I'll suck you instead." She knew I wasn't going to release her. I wanted her to think I was considering fucking her in the ass. I grabbed my dick and started moving the head of it down there, then bringing it up and running it through her pussy lips. This time I ran it through, deeper into her steamy crevice. She moved her body up, trying to keep it in or near her pussy opening. I allowed her to move enough to get about three inches up inside her, then I leaned forward to stop all her free movements. I left my dick inside her about three inches, and moved back and forth like that. Keeping from one to three inches in her. Fucking her, but not really penetrating that far.

She was getting back to her earlier plateau, the one when she'd almost been able to cum. She was rotating her hips a little now, but unable to move up or back by herself.

"You've got a nice little pussy, Em. I don't know why Brenda doesn't want to eat it. She should be dying to sink her tongue in you. Next time she comes home, I think I'm going to take you up to my room and tie your hands and feet to my head and foot boards. I'll fuck her doggy style, she likes it like that, and I'll make her eat you until you can't stand it any more. After, I'll fuck you too, and make her sit on your face so you can lick my cum out of her."

"Do you fuck her without a rubber?" Emily was gasping as she asked me that. She was in full motion too, as I'd relaxed my hold on her legs while still pinning her arms behind her head. She was lifting her hips to slam against my pubic bone. There was no question but that Emily liked it rougher, the hotter she got. I bit her under each breast, hard enough to leave little bite marks. I was careful not to break her skin. Then I leaned back up, trapping both her legs again with my forearms.

"I have fucked her like that. It feels a lot better to fuck without a rubber. She was on the pill, and she liked it better without anything being between us. We both loved it when a hot load of my cum shot out and smeared all over inside her pussy."

I buried my prick in her then, and started fucking her as if with a purpose. She starting cumming as soon as she felt my cock slide all the way inside her. It didn't take that long for me to cum too. I waited a few minutes after, until my cock stopped twitching, and then took my dick back out. The rubber was covered on the outside with her flowing blood. I took it to the bathroom and flushed it down the toilet. Using a face cloth and warm water, I managed to clean myself off. I had some blood on my thighs and balls, and a streak of it on my stomach too.

I went back in the bedroom with the newly rinsed face cloth and tended to Emily. She had a lot more blood on her than I did. When I was done rinsing her off, I scooted up so I could lay with my face up close to hers. We spent the next twenty minutes talking about the fantasy I'd given her for a threesome with Brenda. The biggest change that Emily suggested was that I first cum in her, then have Brenda eat all the cum out of her while I was busy fucking Brenda doggy style. After that, Emily would return the favor. I told her I might consider it, but only if both girls were on the pill.

"If we did that, then you'd start loving Brenda again, and I'd be back where I was before we all stopped being friends."

"Is that something you're afraid of, or something you're hoping for?"

"I'm not sure. I guess it would depend on how you'd treat me then. I already know how Brenda would treat me. If you made her treat me nice, I'd like it fine. You'd still fuck me, and eat me sometimes, right?"

"That's what good friends do. You and I can only be friends. With Brenda, I'm not that sure. She has this thing that makes me stop thinking clearly sometimes, like a power over me. It doesn't work for her all the time though." I looked over, and Emily had tears running down her face. "What's wrong? Was it what I just said about us only being friends?" She nodded that it was.

"Why do you think that way? If you could love Brenda, after all the stuff she's done to you, why can't you love me too?"

"I don't know. I think it's because of the way you are about Brenda too. It's something we both share, the power she has over us. What I'm saying is that we might be able to share Brenda. I'm not jealous of you being with her. We can be friends who fuck, and friends who share, but, I don't think it would work well if we tried to be more than friends. Sometimes, being a friend is a lot better than being a girlfriend."

Later, I put on another rubber, and I had Emily get on top. I kept both her hands in mine, our fingers interlaced, and I told her this fantasy I'd had about her and Brenda, before I'd fucked either of them. The more I talked about it, the faster she moved above me. When she had her first cum, it was slow, and not too intense, but she went right back to work, and was soon able to wring another, bigger one, out of herself. She put her face down on my chest, with me still lodged fully up inside her. I thought she was just resting, and I was laying beneath her, stroking her hair. It took several minutes before I finally realized that she had gone to sleep. I put my hands on her hips and started moving her up and down upon my erection. She woke up soon after I started, and this time, both of us got to cum. We kissed for a little, and then went and showered together.

One of the things that bothered me about denying Emily anything more than simple friendship, was that Emily was probably ten times better for me than Brenda would ever be. Whenever I was with Emily, my thoughts always turned to Brenda though, and for some reason, Brenda seemed much more desirable to me then, than Emily ever did. I wished it were the reverse. I knew if it was reversed though, the dynamics of our three way relationship wouldn't have been possible.

I had gotten over my love for Brenda by falling in love with Shirley. When I knew I had lost Shirley, I gravitated right back to Brenda. It might just have been my rationalization, but I felt my best path to safety with Brenda, was to align myself with Emily. She didn't seem as dangerous to me when I had Emily as an ally.

Emily and I left Uncle Bunny's house, tired, but feeling very relaxed. We didn't talk about the weekend. Emily didn't ask about the dance, and I didn't promise her I'd try to be there. She told me later that the only way she could think of to stay friends with me was to take things on a day by day basis. I walked her to her door, and kissed her good night.

When I was getting undressed for bed, Joyce came and knocked on my bedroom door, calling out my name as she did so. I hadn't locked my door, so I shouted for her to come in.

"Were you with Emily again tonight?"

"Yes, we went out for awhile."

"Did you fuck her some more?"

"A little. Why are you asking me that?"

"You promised to show me a hard on in the morning, remember? Is it still going to be hard if you fucked her tonight?"

"It almost always is before I take a pee in the morning. I'm glad you reminded me though, because I forgot about telling you that."

"Could you make it hard for me now? I wanted to sleep in tomorrow."

"I don't think so, not right now. I'll be getting up around six o'clock. Is that too early for you?"

"I wanted to sleep in until around ten o'clock. Would it help you get hard if I showed you my pussy?"

"I don't think anything would help right now. How about if I try it before lunch tomorrow? If I have any trouble getting one, then we can discuss what you can do to help me."

"I don't mind Kenny. My pussy is regular sized, and I've got hair on it and everything."

I'm not sure why, but, there was something about the way she talked about her pussy that gave it a strange fascination for me. For some reason, I thought it might be a good idea for me to see it.

"Go lock the door, Joyce. Maybe if I saw it, it would help me get hard again."

Before she turned away, I saw something different in her eyes. I'd seen that look before, but I couldn't place where, or in whose eyes I'd seen it, or what it had meant. What I was about to do was wrong, and I knew it even before I'd told her to go lock my bedroom door. I certainly didn't have the excuse of being horny, and it was something too important for me to just pass it off as idle curiosity. She was nineteen years old, and I was only seventeen. Why did I feel like I was the one about to take advantage of her? Was I? I didn't know, but, as she threw the dead bolt in place, my dick was already hard, straining against my Levi's.



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Chapter 19

Joyce threw the deadbolt and came right back to where I was now sitting. I'd been standing beside my bed when she had gone to lock my door, but I'd taken a seat on the bed, right before she finished throwing the deadbolt. She saw me sitting there as soon as she had turned back to me. She approached me with that same strange look in her eyes, and on her face. Again, it looked familiar to me, but I still couldn't place where I'd seen it before.

She stopped walking when she reached the foot of my bed. I watched her carefully. Now, she started looking shy again. I thought it was seeming like she wasn't sure about what she should be doing next. I started thinking that we'd taken things as far as we should take them.

"Joyce, if you're getting nervous about this, we don't have to do anything. Maybe it would be better if we both slept on it. Don't you want to think about it some more? Why don't we wait until tomorrow?"

"It would be easier if you went in the bathroom for a minute, Kenny. It isn't nerves, just that I'm still shy around people. If you left for a few minutes, I could take off my clothes, and get under the covers. I really want to see it tonight."

I stood up and walked into my bathroom. I already was hard. What I should have done was undo my jeans, and show her my dick. I knew it would have been better if I just did that. If Joyce was only curious about a boy's anatomy, she could take her good look at it, and then, be able to leave with her curiosity satisfied. By delaying showing it to her, I was bringing the situation further forward than it ever needed to go. In spite of having a hard on, I still believed it was more for the situation we were in, than for any sexual interest I had in Joyce.

Part of what drove me to play the whole thing out with her, was the fact that Joyce had previously shown interest in me sexually, with some of her previous questions, and then she had retreated every time I had questioned if she meant what she'd said or had asked. I wanted to know what her true feelings were, and the only way I'd find out, was if we acted on one of her requests. I didn't want to do anything to harm Joyce, but I did want to know what it was she really hoped for from me.

When I opened my bathroom door to come out, about five minutes later, I had already gotten undressed, except for a thick bathrobe that I'd put on. It had always been hung on a metal hook on the inside of my bathroom door, but I almost never wore it. Joyce was under the bed covers, with them pulled up until they were up under her chin. Next to the nightstand, on the floor, were all of Joyce's clothes. I walked over to the other side of my bed, pulling the covers back, but only just enough for me to slide in beside her, without uncovering her body for me to see it. I didn't want to cut off any possible escape Joyce might try to attempt. As soon as I was under the covers, I removed the robe, holding it up for Joyce to see, before I threw it on the floor, on my side of the bed.

"Are you naked underneath those covers, Joyce?" I had turned, so I was facing her. Some part of me was still hoping that she'd be intimidated or overwhelmed by this, and decide to leave. She looked right at me, a smile playing on her lips. She looked more relaxed and comfortable than I would have imagined she'd be.

"Why don't you look under the covers, and find out for yourself, Kenny?"

Instead of doing that, I reached my hand over to grab hold of my penis, lifting it up, so that it raised a small tent beneath the covers. I watched as Joyce turned her gaze towards the sudden rise below my waist.

"I guess it got hard all by itself, Joyce. You can peek under the covers now, if you still want to, and then we both can sleep in tomorrow morning. Turn out the lights when you let yourself out." I put it that way to allow her to make her own decision. She knew she now had my permission to look. If she wanted anything more to happen, she would have to be the one who initiated it.

Instead of answering me, Joyce pulled the covers up over her head and sat up so that there was room for her to look at my dick.

"Kenny, it's too dark for me to really be able to see much. Pull your side of the covers off, okay?"

I used my free hand to pull back my side of the covers, again, being careful not to accidentally expose Joyce's body to my view. I still had my other hand on my cock, and I'd been squeezing and releasing it enough to keep it erect. When Joyce threw back her covers too, I was surprised. The first thing I noticed was that her face had gotten a little flushed, and that her lips were parted, like she needed to breathe through her mouth. Her tiny breasts had two mini-sized pencil erasers protruding from the small bumps of her breasts. Before I got a good a look at her, she had moved to where she was on her stomach, with her feet partially off the mattress. Her head was raised, because of her weight being supported by her elbows. Her butt was now plainly visible to me. I didn't see any sign of her butt having been developed through puberty. It was a child's butt, without any of the definition or swelling of the hips you saw in post pubescent teen aged girls. I started to lose my erection.

I think Joyce realized what was happening even before I did, because she turned over and presented me with a view of her pussy. Unlike everything else I'd seen on Joyce so far, her pussy really looked fully developed, and like it belonged on an adult. She had a light brown, thick curly hair, that started right under her navel, and covered her whole pubic arch. I could see her pussy lips were opened slightly, but she had quite a bit of hair on either side of those pussy lips. It appeared she didn't do any trimming of her pubes. I heard myself drawing in a deep breath when I first saw her pussy. I looked up at Joyce's face, and once again noticed that strange look from her. Her look was starting to make me a little uneasy.

I felt the blood flowing back into my hard on, or what was becoming once again a hard on. It was difficult to describe the contrast between Joyce's pussy, and the rest of her. She had a woman's pussy, but it was on the body of what appeared to be a twelve year old girl. It was fascinating to me, and I wanted to ask her some questions about it.

"Joyce, you were right about your pussy, it's developed. How did that happen?"

"You mean how come I developed there, and still stayed little everywhere else?" I nodded that this was what I meant. "I don't really know why. It just happened like that. Maybe it was because of what happened to me. The doctor didn't say anything about it when he examined me. I started getting my periods about five months after those rapes happened, and everything just kept being normal for me there. It's know its unusual for me to have hair there, when I have none under my arms, but I still don't have hair under here." She lifted up one of her arms, to show me there wasn't any hair under there.

"Did everything about it develop normally? I mean do you get wet and excited when you think about boys and sex?"

"I play with it a lot, but, I usually don't think about boys or about regular sex too often. Usually, I just think of making it feel good. I like to make myself cum a lot." She moved a hand over to her pussy, and started slowly caressing herself. At first, it was just the sides of her outer lips, and running the backs of her fingers over her thighs and her lower stomach. I watched her as she did that, aware that I was beginning to stroke myself as I watched. "I'm not scared like I thought I'd be. I think its because I trust you, Kenny. I never trusted any other boys to see me like this. I'm glad seeing my pussy helped you get hard again. That really makes me feel good. I hoped so bad that you'd act like this when I showed you." I watched her begin seriously rubbing herself, running her fingers inside her very pink pussy lips. She acted like she was all alone, except she was carrying on a conversation with me as she did it. "You know what I want you to do next?"

"What?"

"I'd really like it if you'd eat me, Kenny. I've been thinking about that since that time, in your office, when you were talking to Brenda. I think about you doing that when I play with myself at night. If you'd do that, I'd do you after."

"If I did do that, it couldn't ever go any farther, Joyce. We shouldn't even be thinking of doing that much."

"Can I come over and sit on your chest, Kenny? I'd like that, even if you decide not to lick me. I always think about sitting on your chest when I make myself cum. Let me sit on your chest, and I'll just rub myself until I start to cum."

She didn't wait for me to respond, getting up quickly and throwing her right leg over my prone torso. When she eased her little butt down on my chest, I felt the wetness of her juices. From the amount of moisture they had been running out her pussy and down between her legs for awhile. She settled in, straddling me, with the back of her butt on my upper chest area, with her pussy posed near my neck. When she came to rest, her pussy was less than two inches from my chin. She had two fingers busy working in and around her pussy. When she took them out of her pussy, she deliberately pulled them out so that they ended up scraping across my chin and touching both my lower and upper lip. When I made no objection, she pressed herself forward until I felt her pubic hairs surrounding my mouth. I kept my mouth closed, curious about what her response would be when I failed to start licking her. It was simple, she started moving all over me, washing my face with her pussy.

She didn't require my assistance, or so it seemed. For her, it was apparently enough to be using my face as a source of pressure for her pussy. Several times, she would hump herself up against my nose, before sliding back down again, past my chin. I raised both hands and grabbed her at her bony hips. I lifted her up slightly, before running my tongue all the way through her opening, finishing up right on her clit.

When I did that to her, she started whimpering, and then she again started trying to increase the friction from my tongue by moving her hips back and forth. I needed to breathe, and I wanted to concentrate mostly on her clitoris, so I prevented her moving somewhat at first. When I felt her starting to cum, I rolled her over and attacked her pussy hole with my extended tongue, pausing, several times to suck on her little inner butterfly pussy lips.

I can't explain what took place next. She was still convulsing, and I could see her stomach expanding and contracting with her spasms. I lifted myself up onto my hands, and moved over her until my throbbing cock was poised near her opening. I looked right at her face as I stayed poised above her, obviously in a position to fuck her. I wasn't thinking about her rape when she was eleven. In fact, I wasn't thinking at all. It was a primal need I felt, not any thought. Having that primal need would have surprised me, if someone had described it to me twenty minutes before. I don't know how long I might have stayed like that if Joyce hadn't uttered those fateful two words.

"Do it!"

She might not have had a fully developed or grown pussy like she claimed, but you could never prove that by me. Unlike my first time with Emily, Joyce had absolutely no problem with accepting all of me. As I said, I wasn't thinking. I was driven by a need that has driven men for countless centuries. I wanted to plunder her, to drive myself into her, and release my seed inside her body. I wasn't thinking, I was fulfilling a primitive urge, one far stronger than what I could have resisted. It was minutes after I'd flooded her passage with my cum before I started becoming aware of the seriousness of the act I'd just performed. I had taken a chance on getting Joyce pregnant. I'd taken a chance on complicating both of our lives in a way that simply boggled my mind. This thought was quickly followed by the guilt and remorse appropriate for my having taken advantage of a relatively innocent young girl.

The fact that she was squirming around excitedly beneath me, giving me sloppy wet kisses, wherever she could reach, and shouting out, "Thank you, thank you, thank you," didn't in any way lessen my guilt. I should have known better, I knew it was wrong, but I just went ahead and did it anyway. I was a miserable excuse for a man.

Next, I started worrying about what people would say or do when they learned about what I had just done.

"Mama's going to kill me." I groaned this out loud. Now, when it did no good, I belatedly started considering the consequences of my actions. Mostly, I was distraught over thoughts of how my actions were going to disappoint my mother. What if it sent her into one of her bad depressions? How could I possibly live with that guilt? What about Emily? I had just disappointed everyone I cared about, with this one stupid, and totally self-indulgent, act. Was I insane? Was I just totally without any morals? What a fucking nightmare I'd brought upon myself and my family.

"Mama's not going to be upset."

"Like hell she isn't. You don't know her like I do." Joyce just laughed, throwing both her hands around my neck and squeezing me as tightly as she could. At least someone was happy about all of this. What did she know? She probably didn't really understand what I'd just done to her.

"She's the one who told me it wouldn't do for me to just give up and cry about it every time you went out and got a new girlfriend. She told me she'd waited too long to go after what she wanted. She told me I should come in here and make you want me."

"My mother told you that? I can't believe it. Maybe if you were Brenda, but, I just can't believe she'd tell you that."

"Well, she did. You can even ask her. She said it did no good for me to cry and be sad about it. She said I needed to use whatever strengths I had to make you notice me. That's what I did, and it worked! Thank you, Kenny. It was even better than I dreamed it would be."

"You know I wasn't using any protection. You could get pregnant. You could already be pregnant."

"I don't care. It was worth it."

"Joyce, with your hips, you'd probably die if you tried to have a normal sized baby. It would split you in two."

"Kenny, I'm not an idiot. I've been taking the pill since early in the summer. Thank you for not thinking about putting on a rubber. You must have been pretty hot, if you forgot that, right?"

"Joyce, this was a one time thing. You were curious, and I was being stupid. I'm glad you enjoyed it, but I'm not doing this again with you." Joyce reacted when I said that, but not the way I thought she would.

"We'll see about that, Kenny. You might think it was only a one time thing, but I'll bet we do it a lot more times than this. Nobody was hurt, and we both had a good time. You said yourself that friends can have sex together. I don't want to be your sister, Kenny. I never wanted you to think of me like that. I want us to be friends for now, but friends like you are with Emily."

She got up out of bed and started getting herself dressed. She showed absolutely no self consciousness as she did so. There was a new, even stranger, look on her face now, and this one I did recognize. It was the look of someone who had just gotten their own way, someone who had prevailed against strenuous opposition. I'd seen that look on Dad's face, when he pulled off a difficult business deal. That was when it came to me, where I'd seen the other look.

I'd seen it on her face when I'd told her to go lock my bedroom door. It had been familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen it before. Now I remembered, and remembering, I felt a shiver of fear. That was the look of a plan being successfully executed, and knowing that you were about to be rewarded. I'd seen that same look on Brenda's face, right after I'd fucked her for that first time. I'd always been a little afraid of Brenda. Part of the fear I'd had was because of the way she seemed to be able to get me to do things I didn't want to do. Things I'd promised myself I'd never do.

I never thought that Joyce could have that same kind of power over me. Brenda's power was because of her looks. That's what I'd always believed. What if I'd been wrong? If Joyce had that same power over me, it certainly wasn't because of her looks. Suppose I was just susceptible to certain kinds of women, and suppose it didn't have anything at all to do with looks? How could I keep my guard up?

After Joyce left, having even remembered to turn off my lights on her way out, I stayed there in the dark, considering my options. If Mama had been in on the planning of what happened, that had to mean she condoned it. If she did what Joyce claimed, I should be mad at her too. I was already starting to be mad at Joyce, believing now that she had manipulated me into having sex with her.

Emily. This was something I needed to decide about, and I needed to decide soon. While I saw no reason to mention Helen to Emily, even though I had alluded to her in passing, there could be no excuse for not informing Emily about what had happened with Joyce. She was already upset and hurt about my claim to not have enough time for even one girlfriend. What would she do when she found out I now had another friend I had sex with? How about when I had to tell her I'd had sex with Joyce after taking Emily home from Uncle Bunny's house? There were so many complications, and I'd brought them all down on myself. Emily was going to see that I didn't deserve to have her as a friend.

It was after three in the morning before I lost track of all the terrible consequences of what I'd done, and nodded off to sleep. I woke up at noon, having had a long, dreamless sleep. Sleeping half the day away made me feel even more guilty, not that I really needed anymore guilt. I went downstairs and had Gerta make me some sandwiches to take back up to my room.

I spent the rest of the day, in my room, working on whatever I could find to keep my mind away from these seemingly unsolvable problems. At six thirty that afternoon, my phone rang, it was Emily, calling to ask me if I was caught up with my work or not. Thinking to avert a more public spectacle, and, because I was a coward, I told her that something had happened, something that we needed to talk about. She told me she was busy getting herself ready for the dance, and I could tell her later, while we were dancing.

"This concerns me and another girl, Emily. Something that happened after I took you home last night."

"Was it Shirley?" I told her it didn't matter who it was, what mattered was that I'd had sex with another girl. "You didn't do something with that little girl that lives with you, did you?" I remained silent, expecting that by not denying it, she would know that it was Joyce that I'd had sex with. "Kenny! Was it with her?"

"Yes. It just happened. I wasn't expecting it to happen."

"When did you do it?"

"Last night, after I got done dropping you off at your house."

"How many times did you two do it?" I thought that was a strange question for her to ask, but a fair one too.

"Just once."

"Did she already know that we did it earlier?"

"Yes, she asked me if we had."

"Do you like her better than you like me?"

"If I had to pick one of you for a girlfriend, it would be you."

"Really? You aren't telling me that just to make me forgive you?"

"Em, you've seen her. I like her a lot, but not as a girlfriend. I'm still not sure how any of that happened, but it did, and I wanted to tell you. If I wasn't too busy for it, and if I didn't need to avoid getting emotionally involved with a girl again, I'd want you to be my girlfriend."

"Will you do something for me, if I promise not to be mad at you for fucking that little girl?"

"Emily, she's older than both of us. Please don't make it sound worse that it already is. What do you want?"

"You have to promise you'll do it first."

"No. If I knew what it was, I might say yes, but not when it could be anything at all."

"If anyone asks you, I want you to tell them that we're going steady."

"That's all you want me to do? Just tell people we're going steady if they ask me about it?"

"And, give me your class ring, and a chain to wear it on."

"I didn't buy a class ring. How about if we go over to the pawn shop and you can pick out one of the class rings they have in the window there?"

"No, your class ring is what I want."

"I could buy you a ring with a small diamond. You could tell people its like an engagement ring. I saw a nice one in the window, for about a hundred dollars. It wouldn't be an engagement ring, but I wouldn't mind if you pretended it was."

"Okay. That's a deal. When can I get it?"

"I'll buy it for you next week. Whenever I get a chance to go over and pick it up."

"Are you going to come to the dance tonight?"

"If I do, it would only be for long enough that we could have a few dances, then I'd need to come right back home. I could go over there at around nine, and stay for a half hour."

"That's perfect. That way I can tell people that my boyfriend's working, but he's coming to the dance just to see me. You really mean it about the ring, don't you? I can tell people we're getting engaged? It's a real diamond, right?"

"I don't know if it's real or not. It looked nice when I saw it. It wasn't a big diamond. Maybe you should hold off on telling anyone until after I get it for you."

After we got off the phone, I had to do some mental arithmetic. I was trying to balance out how things were standing with Emily. I found it difficult to believe she was going to let me off so easy. On the other hand, she seemed to have gotten something she valued more than she valued my being faithful to her. Had it been either Brenda or Shirley, I'd have been in super serious trouble. Maybe having us only being friends was a good thing.

I got to the dance at just a few minutes after nine. Emily was out on the dance floor, dancing with a boy I'd seen at the swimming pool before. I didn't remember his name, but I remembered he had been one of Richard's friends. When they finished their dance, Emily hurried right over to greet me, a big smile on her face. She put her arms around my neck, standing up as high as she could on her tip toes, giving me a French kiss, right in front of everyone there.

After the kiss, I took her out on the dance floor and we started dancing. Emily's kiss had left a sour taste in my mouth. I wondered what she'd eaten.

"Did you see the boy I was dancing with when you first got here? That's Don Featherstone. He's a senior at school. He was sure surprised when I agreed to let him take me out for some fresh air earlier tonight. Not as surprised as he got when I offered to give him a blow job though. He doesn't cum as much as you do, but it was enough for what I needed." She pushed me away from her, and ran back to her table. I went to the men's room and tried to wash that sour taste out of my mouth.

I was very upset, but, what Emily had actually done to me made more sense than what I thought she was going to do. I couldn't even complain that I hadn't deserved what she did. When I got home, I mentioned to Joyce that she might want to stay far away from Emily for awhile.

The following Tuesday, I drove over to the pawn shop, finding and buying the ring I wanted for one hundred and twenty six dollars. I bought a gold chain for seventy-five more dollars. The man said the chain was ten carat gold. I put the ring on the chain and put it around my neck. I wanted a constant reminder of what had occurred. I let Joyce, and my own animal instincts, talk me into committing a very stupid act. I had a nice arrangement with Emily, one where she had deferred to my setting the parameters we operated under. Even then, I hadn't lived within the limits that reasonable behavioral standards demanded. I missed Emily, but I managed to find just enough decency in myself to stay away from her. She had deserved better than I gave her.



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Chapter 20

Right after the incident in my room with Joyce, Mama and I got into a little situation. That Saturday afternoon, I was in my room eating some sandwiches that I'd asked Gerta to make for me. Mama opened my door, saw me sitting in there eating, then came walking into my bedroom.

"Here you are. I wondered where you'd gotten off to. I think you were very insensitive to Joyce's feelings the other night, and I wanted to get a chance to discuss that with you."

I put my half eaten, half of a sandwich, back down on my plate, so I could devote my full attention to her while we spoke. I hurriedly finished chewing the part of the sandwich that was in my mouth before she interrupted me. Even with what Joyce had claimed, I was still having difficulty believing that Mama would have encouraged Joyce to make a play for me. Maybe Joyce had misinterpreted what Mama had said?

"How was I insensitive? I didn't say anything to her. At the very worst, all I did was give her a look. That was only because it surprised me, her telling you about my scratches."

"You knew that Joyce has a crush on you. Think of how she must have felt, first from listening to what was going on in your bedroom, then, later, hearing all the details of you being intimate with Emily."

"I can't help it that she has a crush on me. I've done nothing to encourage that. Well, nothing until you set her after me." As soon as I added that last part, I saw Mama's eyes get bigger, and her nose flared open, from her inhaling a large breath in surprise. She paused only slightly before replying.

"I certainly never set her after you, Kenny. I counseled her to not lay around moping about you. I said she should either find herself someone else, or, if she didn't want to do that, she should make you aware of her feelings for you."

"She came into my room last night. Something happened." Mama tried to hide it, but, before she averted her eyes from me, I saw the gleam and twinkle of triumph in them.

"By saying that something happened, you don't mean to imply that you and she were intimate together?" She was enjoying the moment. I had no doubt that she and Joyce had already gone over every single detail of what had occurred the night before. I knew that Mama had taken Joyce's side in this, and that she was in my room, talking with me, for the sole purpose of developing intelligence so she could report it back to Joyce, enabling the two of them to plan for their next assault. I didn't understand why Mama kept interfering in my life like that.

"I'm implying nothing. Stop pretending that any of this is news to you. You think I haven't figured out what's going on? I may not know your reasons for doing it yet, but I do know what you're doing. I want you to stop doing it too, right now."

"All I've done, is to counsel Joyce on her various recourses, advising her of the many options open to her. She needed advice, the poor dear, given the awkward situation she found herself in. I would do the same for you, if you'd allow it. I'm not sure what it is you suspect me of, but I assure you I'm not involved in any plot against any of your interests. I'd never conspire to hurt you, Kenny. I'm ever so fond of Joyce, but, I would never lift one finger against your interests." She said it so sincerely, and I could see the tears of hurt welling up in her eyes as she spoke. I sat there, taking a minute to replay what she had said.

"I understand that you feel that way, and I appreciate that. I'm asking you to stop trying to encourage Joyce to continue seeking a romantic or a physical relationship with me." Mama wasn't used to my thinking before speaking. In the past, I'd always allowed my emotions to dictate my words.

"She needs no encouragement for that, Kenny. My main purpose in this has only been to lift up her spirits, to improve her self image. I wanted her to understand that she already possesses sufficient assets and attributes to achieve more than she believed she could. You should be flattered at her having such an interest in you. Joyce is a remarkable young lady. She's had to overcome hardship and adversities, perhaps ones even greater than those you encountered and overcame. She's been tested, Kenny. What is happening with her now, every day, is a phenomenal change from anything else she was used to. I'm so proud to be able to witness her coping and growing stronger with these changes. Don't mistake my protecting her in this endeavor, for me providing her with encouragement. I would much prefer that she had set her sights on someone less complex than you are dear. We both know that she is doomed to fail in securing her ultimate desire. Is it such a burden on you to allow her these lesser successes?"

"Lesser successes? Do you mean lesser successes like she had last night? She manipulated me, and then she took full advantage of it."

"She seduced you. Is that what you mean? What did she do to you that you haven't done yourself, and to several other girls? Where was the harm in it? Don't take away the added confidence last night has given Joyce. If you care for her at all, don't get up on that high horse of yours and make her feel diminished by what the two of you did."

Now, Mama really was engaged in some serious pleading with me. She knew me too damn well. She knew I'd have said or done something to negate what had happened in my room the night before. In fact, I had already been formulating a plan to do something to express my anger at Joyce's actions. I had been outflanked and out maneuvered by Mama. She hadn't come to my room looking for intelligence to help Joyce's cause. She had come to plead her own cause to me, to enlist my help in her plan for Joyce.

Mama was a formidable advocate, and she had advocated on my behalf on many occasions. She didn't come out and say it, but I knew she was counting on me to remember the many sacrifices she had willingly put up with for me. If she wanted to protect Joyce's victory, I could give her that much. I wanted to ask her to try to make sure Joyce didn't attempt yet another seduction, but I was afraid of the reply that request might elicit.

"I won't do anything to take away from last night. I'm alerted to her now though. She'll never take me by surprise again."

"Oh, Kenny, you are so cute when you say things like that. You have no idea of the many parallels I see between you and Thomas, and between Joyce and myself. All four of us are so different, and yet, we all mesh together so well. It's uncanny. I won't interfere with whatever develops, or fails to develop, between you and Joyce. I will caution you now though, to not underestimate her will, or her determination."

Mama came closer and kissed me on my cheek, placing her hand on my other cheek as she did so. She then patted my face and turned to leave. I thought I heard a sound from her as she neared my door. I sounded like a chuckle, but I couldn't be sure. What I could be sure of was that Mama had absolutely no intentions of not interfering, and not just between Joyce and me either. Mama was going to interfere, it was what she enjoyed doing most.

When I got back home from the dance Saturday night, Mama, Joyce, and my Dad were visiting some people, business friends of Dad's. I went in the kitchen and asked Gerta if there was anything sweet for me to eat. Hans was in their room, watching television. His back was acting up again, according to Gerta. She described his condition to me after I asked her about him.

While I ate the big slice of cake, and the cold milk she gave me, hoping to restore a normal feeling to my taste buds, I told Gerta about what Emily had done to me. After I told her, she asked me questions until, finally, I had to tell her the whole story about what Emily and I had agreed to, what we'd done together, and then about what happened with Joyce in my room.

"She let you off easy, Kenny. She just attacked your pride. It seems a big thing to you right now, but, in a while, you'll see that she didn't really punish you so much. She still must like you a lot."

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't still like me, a lot or a little. You didn't hear her, or feel her, when she pushed me away from her."

"So, she's still mad at you. She's mad for what you did, and she'd mad for what her being mad at you caused her to have to do. She blames you for making her do that with the other boy."

"I didn't make her do that. It was all her idea."

"You did something that hurt her enough that she needed to strike back at you. What she did was to show you how it felt, by trying to hurt you in the same way."

Having already finished my cake and milk, I tried to digest what Gerta was telling me too. I had little doubt that Gerta believed what she had told me, but she hadn't seen the look on Emily's face when she informed me of the action she'd taken against me. I didn't doubt that Emily had liked me, and I couldn't protest against her right to be angry at my actions. I even almost accepted that I'd deserved what she had done to punish me, but I wasn't going to be thankful that this was all she did to me. Even more than the kiss, I had hated what that cum being in her mouth had meant. I wasn't jealous though, how could I be?

Sunday, Joyce approached me as we were both coming downstairs for breakfast. I could see that she was nervous. We hadn't spoken at all on Saturday. I smiled at her, trying to reduce the tension she might be feeling, and then I reached out and took her hand in mine.

"Are you okay, Joyce?"

She seemed to relax when I took her hand. I guess she'd been pretty worried about how I'd react to what we'd done, especially after I had the time to think about it.

"I was a little worried about how you'd feel, Kenny. You know, about what happened."

"What happened, happened. Nothing can change it. Now, we move on from there. I'm really going to miss Emily, but I can't blame her for dumping me."

"She dumped you?" Joyce tried to look concerned, but I saw the quick grin, right before she put that concerned look on her face.

"She not only dumped me, she went out and did something with another boy, just to show me how much what I had done had hurt her. I've lost a real good friend." I was laying it on a little thick, but I wasn't saying anything bad about what Joyce and I had done, not as far as it not being enjoyable. I did want her to understand that there had already been serious consequences. I wanted her to know it wasn't just all fun and games.

"You still have me, Kenny. I'm still a good friend."

"I know that Joyce, and it helps, but now I have one less friend, and I really liked having her as a friend. That's why I'm feeling a little bit down today." We went into the kitchen and ate our breakfast out there.

As soon as I was finished eating, I left the house, driving over to the group homes. I wanted to be away from Joyce and Mama, but I didn't feel like being alone. I rounded up five of the boys, the ones who had been doing the best in their schoolwork, and we drove over to Bolling, to visit the game arcade there. I never saw so many quarters disappear so quickly. We were all competing against each other for best scores.

We couldn't compete with any of the experienced players at the arcade, but the six of us were all in the same boat when it came to playing experience. We didn't have any.

At around two, I drove us all over to the restaurant and we ate a big lunch. Jane was there, along with Grace and Marie and her sister. The place was pretty crowded when we arrived, because Grace was trying out her new, all you can eat, Sunday Brunch idea. She had learned about this from a story she read about a champagne brunch craze that was spreading all through California.

They had bought several removable serving line tables, and I had to laugh because it reminded me of the way they served us food at the orphanage. The similarities ended there though, because Marie and her sister, Sonya, had really prepared a Mexican food feast.

We had arrived for the tail end of the buffet, but there was still plenty of everything for the boys and I. Instead of champagne, we were given all the soda we wanted. It was expensive, at five ninety five for each of us, but I think the boys and I managed to get our money's worth, and then some.

Marie came out of the kitchen with Sonya just long enough to say hello, and to introduce her sister to us. Sonya looked almost twenty years younger than Marie, and Marie looked a lot younger than her real age. I found out later, that Sonya had been born out of wedlock to Marie and some boyfriend of hers, before she moved away, or had met Juan, her husband. She had left Sonya to be raised by her parents. Sonya knew that Marie was her real mother, but they had always treated each other like sisters, so that's what they referred to each other as. I also found out, again from Grace, that Sonya's late husband had been murdered by his cousin in Phoenix. It was a drunken argument over some money one of them had claimed the other owed him.

Grace was in a real good mood about how well the brunch idea was being received. She was sure, when people became aware that it was a weekly occurrence, the repeat business would be fantastic. The dinner service hadn't even been started yet, and the restaurant receipts were already greater than for any previous Sunday since they had opened. When I asked about the cost of the champagne, Grace laughed and told me it cost her less than ten dollars for a twelve bottle case of it. They had run through about five cases, and the brunch was nearly over. She told me they were being generous with the champagne, in the beginning, to build up a quick repeat customer following. It wasn't the cost that mattered she said, it was having the seats and tables tied up by people who wanted to drink more than they cared about eating. Earlier, Grace told me, several people had left the restaurant without eating, because they grew tired of waiting for a table to open up for them.

After we finished eating, I drove the boys back to their homes, and then I drove myself over to Uncle Bunny's. I didn't feel like studying. Instead, I sat in his living room, trying to decide how I was going to deal with my situation at home. At around ten o'clock, I locked up the house, and reset the alarm, before heading back to my house. I didn't see anyone downstairs when I came in, so I went up to my room, and shut and bolted my door. I went to bed, after first showering, and managed to fall asleep fairly quickly.

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A week went by uneventfully. I hadn't seen or heard from Emily, and didn't expect to. Joyce was giving me a wide berth as well. I even noticed that Mama was keeping the dinner table conversation focused only on business topics. She was no longer having us all go around the table, telling each other about our day's activities. Dad did most of the talking, although he would, on occasion, ask each of us for ideas on how he should handle some problem or situation he was having. This doesn't mean that Joyce and I weren't speaking. She was still being a big help with the group homes. It was more that the two of us weren't working together as closely as we had before. A lot of the fun and the kidding had gone out of our conversations.

On Friday morning, Gerta noticed the necklace with the ring around it that I was wearing. I was in a hurry to get something to eat before heading off to school, and I had left it hanging outside of my shirt. I hadn't yet put my school jacket on. She asked me about it, and I told her I was wearing it so I'd always be reminded not to do the kinds of things that had led to my losing Emily as a friend. Gerta just nodded at me, not making any comment.

Friday night, at dinner, Mama asked me to show her my necklace. I saw Joyce look up from her bowl of soup, curious about Mama's unusual request. I hesitated, not sure I wanted to talk about it at the table like that, up until Dad made a comment about men wearing jewelry as adornments.

"It isn't an adornment, it's a reminder. I don't think of it as jewelry. It's more like a symbol to me."

"Well, now you've got me curious too. Let's see this symbol of yours." My father can be a patronizing ass at times. I knew he would make a comment about it looking like jewelry to him, if I decided to show it. On the other hand, refusing to show it would make it seem more important than it was to me. I hadn't meant for it to be any big secret anyway. I reached under my shirt and pulled the necklace out. When Mama and Joyce saw the diamond ring, both of them gasped. What the hell was that all about, I wondered?

Joyce got up and left the table then, and the main courses hadn't even been served yet. Mama waited for just a minute, then she left to go see if she could talk Joyce back downstairs, to eat her dinner. That left Dad and me all alone together.

"Is that an engagement ring, Kenny?"

"I don't know. It isn't an engagement ring as far as I'm concerned. It's a symbol, that's all."

"There are few things more symbolic than an engagement ring."

"Not this one. I bought it at the pawn shop, as a reminder, and that's all it is. I don't know what it represents to all of you, but to me, it just represents a bad decision I made."

"You do know that you're too young to get married. Your mother and I would never give our consent. Was this for Shirley?"

"If it were a real engagement ring, do you think I'd pick one like this? If I was marrying Shirley, I'd want her to have a ring like the one Mama wears. This is just something I picked up on Tuesday, and it doesn't have anything at all to do with Shirley."

"Very well. I accept your explanation. Now, can you explain to me what it is that's come between you and Joyce, and you and your mother?"

"I can, but I'd prefer not to. It's personal."

"Is it? Well, that's too bad, because it is affecting my whole family, and I want to know what's going on. I demand to know."

"I fucked Joyce, and now everybody's upset." I never saw my father move so fast, or be so upset, not even when we were at the police station and he was so mad at Mr. Connor and Richard. He stood up so quickly, I thought he was going to launch himself at me. Instead, he stood there without moving for several long seconds.

"Do you have the keys to Bunny's house, Kenny?

"Yes."

"I want you to go over there, and stay there, until I can get this straightened out with Joyce and your mother. You didn't force your attentions on her? I'm assuming this was more her idea than it was yours?" When I told him I didn't force her, he relaxed just a little bit, not much though. "I've been afraid something like this might happen. Bertie has no common sense when it comes to these kinds of situations. She encouraged Joyce in this foolishness, didn't she?"

"She says she didn't. She said she counseled Joyce to help her get a better self image, and to make the most of the assets she has."

"I had thought we were done with this sort of thing after Brenda. I thought she'd learned her lesson. She tinkers with people's emotions, with their lives, without ever once giving a single thought to the possible harm and repercussions it might produce. I won't allow her to do that with Joyce, or with you. Let her meddle with Brenda's life, as long as she aims her at someone else. I could accept that kind of meddling, I wouldn't care, but not with you and Joyce, I won't have it!"

"Mama told me after, that it was what Joyce had wanted. I think that's probably the truth, that Mama didn't try to push us together. I blame myself for falling for it, and for giving in to doing that. It ended up ruining my friendship with Emily, and its ended up making things really uncomfortable here at home."

"I'm not saying you're blameless, Kenny, but young men have no training or experience with playing the role of the responsible party, not where sex is concerned. We're natural predators, and the women are supposed to be trained to resist us and say no. They can't expect you to reverse roles successfully. Having said that, weren't you put off by Joyce's physical immaturity?"

"I was, but then, when I saw that her pu... , er, her vagina was like any other woman's, with hair around it and everything, I guess I started thinking of her as a full grown girl. I didn't hurt her, if that's what you meant."

"I'm not angry, Kenny, but I do think it would be better if we resolved this with you not being present. This is your home, and I'm not saying you have to leave, I'm asking you to go to Bunny's for a little while, just until we sort this out."

I had no idea of how he thought he could sort things out without me being there, but I was certainly willing to let him try to do so. I went up to my room to pack a few things, and to gather up my school things and some group homes and restaurant business things. It took me two trips to put everything in my car, and then I took off for Uncle Bunny's place. I might have been running away, probably that's what it was, but I thought my Dad was right in a way, that things would go better if I were out of the picture for awhile.

I managed to spend the weekend productively, although I missed not having a working phone. I made a note to ask Frank Clooney to have the phone service turned back on at the house. I went out to eat both Saturday and Sunday. I ate lunch at the club, and dinner at the diner. I was having my dinner on Sunday when Steph, Gary's groupie came in with another girl. This girl looked a lot more like Gary's type. She was tall and thin, and, when Steph introduced us, she said the girl's name was Brenda Phillips. I thought that was appropriate too, considering Gary's experience with the other Brenda. Without invitation, Steph and Brenda sat on the seat across from me, even though there were several empty booths, close to the booth where I was sitting.

"I hear that you and Emily broke up. That's too bad. You were a cute couple. I heard that she cheated on you, with Donald Featherstone. He's spreading stories about her all over the school now. He and Gary got into a shoving match, in front of the school, but some teachers broke it up before Gary could pulverize him."

I sat there, for a few seconds, trying to control my urge to run away from her. The other girl, Brenda, hadn't said anything. That was good. I wondered briefly if I could get her and Gary together. I knew that would really frost Steph's gourd, if I could somehow manage to do that.

"We don't discuss our private business, except with our close friends."

"Don't be mad at me, Kenny, all I'm doing is telling you what they're saying."

"Did I ask you what they're saying? No. I came in here to have a quiet dinner, and to forget how terrible I feel about losing Emily. I bought her a ring you know? I was going to ask her to marry me, right before she dumped me." I pulled the ring and the chain out of my shirt and showed it to both girls. "I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave now, Steph. Brenda, you're welcome to stay, if you want to. Would you like something to eat or drink?" I waited to see what Steph and Brenda were going to do. Steph finally scooted over and stood up, but Brenda just remained where she was. It took some courage to do that too, because Steph was glaring at her the whole time, trying to intimidate her into leaving with her. As soon as Steph stomped off in a big huff, I turned back to Brenda again.

"Thank you for staying. Order whatever you feel like having. Have you and Steph been friends for long?"

"We've been friends since the first grade. She's going to hate me for not going with her."

"Wow, since the first grade. What grade are you guys in now?"

"Juniors, although we don't have classes together this year. I'm in the Honors program, and Steph is in the regular classes. We have gym class together though. She only lives two doors down from me."

"Have you heard about Gary Carstairs from Steph?"

"Are you kidding? He's almost all she ever talks about. He's only a freshman though, I don't see the attraction. He looks pretty goofy, and he bounces up and down when he's walking."

"Gary is going to be a big basketball star, if not this year, certainly by next year. Steph is hoping to ride to popularity by being his girlfriend. He's such a nice guy, he deserves a lot better than her. I was thinking that you're more his type. In fact, I was hoping you'd give me your phone number, so I can give it to Gary when I tell him about you."

"I don't want my phone number given to some freshman. I thought you asked me to stay because you were interested in me."

"It isn't that I'm not interested, but I don't really know you yet. Maybe we can all go out together, the four of us, and we can have like a double date. You could get to know Gary and I at the same time. That's only if Emily ever decides to forgive me, and gives me another chance."

"I thought Steph said it was Emily that cheated on you?"

"That's the story we've been telling people, but that isn't what really happened. It was me that was fooling around with Donnie. She caught us kissing and fooling around over at the country club. We were mostly just kidding, well I was, at least, but it looked bad to Emily when she looked in my car and saw what we were doing. I had heard that rumor about Donnie and Richard Connor. His sister told me that Donnie and Richard used to do some things like that together, and I was a little curious about seeing for myself. Mostly, I wondered if all the rumors about Donnie were true. They were. I almost gagged when he started sticking his tongue down my throat, and after, when he tried to grab at my dick, saying he really wanted to suck it. That was when Emily saw us. He was bent down, over my lap, trying to get my fly opened. I don't know why he's saying he did anything with Emily though. I guess he doesn't want people to know that he really likes guys."

"I better go find Stephanie, Kenny. It was kind of nice meeting you, and I hope you do get things worked out with Emily. Bye."

I watched her slide across and out of my booth in one smooth motion. This girl was coordinated, maybe too coordinated for someone like Gary. I didn't feel that guilty about what I'd done. It had been kind of fun watching her looking at me in shock as I made that stuff up for her.

"What about your phone number, for Gary? Don't you want something to eat before you go?"

I finished my dinner alone. I saw Steph and Brenda whispering, with their heads bent close together, and then I saw Steph waving another girl over, so she could tell her the latest news. I expected that Donald Featherstone would soon be sorry that he told all those stories about what he and Emily had done. Kansas, in the mid eighties was pretty conservative, socially. Having rumors about your sexuality floating around, that wouldn't do your social life any good at all.

Dad came over later that Sunday night, saying he needed to speak with me. He told me that he'd fought the good fight, but Mama wasn't a woman easily given to accepting either criticism or compromise. The upshot of it all was, he wanted me to return home. He also made a very casual mention that he was so busy at work, he'd be spending a few nights sleeping over at the apartment we kept in Bolling. I wasn't surprised at that news. It was a usual thing for Dad to go visit the Bolling apartment for awhile, when he and Mama were engaged in one of their longer fights. He didn't have her stamina, not when it came to continuing marital discord.

"Are you sleeping there tonight?"

"Yes, I'm so far behind, and I need some peace and quiet if I'm ever going to get caught up."

"I'm sorry, Dad, I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I don't have to go back there yet, do I?"

"You should. She's pretty upset with me, and, if you stay here, its only going to get worse."

"I kind of hate to give in to her like this."

"Do it as a favor to me then. You have no idea how your mother can nurse a grudge. Believe me, you returning would help the situation, a lot. Joyce needs you there too. She feels responsible for everything. She's been talking about moving out of the house too. Which is one more reason your mother is so upset with me. This wasn't what I intended when I first got involved."

"That's what I was trying to tell you before, Dad. When either Mama or Joyce want something, and they decide to go get it, it doesn't really matter what any of the rest of us want. You've seen how Joyce is at work, she doesn't stop until she finds a way to get what we need her to get. She is the same way about personal stuff. If I go back there, there's no telling what she might decide she wants from me."

"Okay, stay here then. This isn't right, and I won't cave in to her."

"No, I'll go. Someone has to stop this, and it needs to be Joyce. She's the one who got it started."

"Kenny, I don't think you should do that. Everything hangs in such a precarious balance already. You might make Joyce feel so bad that she will decide to leave us. If she does that, there's no telling how that might affect your mother."

"Joyce isn't going to leave. What she has with us is too important to her for her to want to do that. If she threatens to leave, its only because she thinks that threat will help her to get her own way. You shouldn't let her get away with it, you'll only spoil her. I bet Mama knows I'm right about this too."

I talked with Dad for a few more minutes, mostly, trying to cheer him up and calm him down. For someone who was supposed to be so calm, cool and collected, he was acting as jumpy as a nervous bride. I asked him to call me, to let me know how Joyce was at work the next day. After he left, I gathered my things together and drove back to my house.

I'm pretty sure that Mama was expecting me when I opened the front door. She smiled at me, acting as though my being gone for so long had all been arranged with her in advance. I said hello, while I carried my first load up to my room. When I went back to my car for the rest of my things, Joyce was standing in the hallway, close to Mama.

"Hi Joyce. Did you miss me?" I think my casual greeting threw her off. All she said was hi. I went past both of them and retrieved the rest of my clothes and toiletries. When I came back into the house, the two of them were in the library, sitting together on the settee, talking. I walked right past the library and took the stairs three at a time. I had already turned the corner at the top of the stairs before Joyce came hurrying out of the library. I was in my bedroom, my dead bolt thrown, before she could finish climbing the stairs.

By the time she knocked, and tried the door handle, I had the water in the shower turned on. I undressed and took a long, relaxing, shower.

By the time I came out of my bathroom, she had stopped calling my name or knocking on the door. I was already in bed when I heard her knocking again. She didn't try the door, because if she had tried it, she would have known I'd already unlocked the dead bolt.

"Come on in, Joyce."

"Kenny, I tried to talk to you, but you wouldn't answer the door."

"I was in the bathroom, probably getting ready to shower. What do you need?"

"Did you talk to your dad tonight?"

"Yes. I feel bad for him, but he should know better than to try to interfere with what Mama wants by now."

"This is all my fault."

"Yes. But, its already done, we can't undo it. Is there anything else?"

"You blame me for them fighting? I didn't do anything to cause them to fight."

"Joyce, I'm not the one who started this. He's upset because you and I wound up fucking, and because Mama didn't do anything to prevent it from happening. He's pretty worried that the whole family will end up being hurt because of what happened."

"It wasn't like that. No one was hurt."

"I was hurt. Emily was hurt. Now Dad's going to be sleeping at the apartment in Bolling, and he and Mama are fighting again. You might be the only one who wasn't hurt, Joyce."

"Should I leave, and go live somewhere else?"

"I really think one of us has to, and I was here first."

"Do you really mean that?" Joyce was already crying.

"Absolutely. As long as you're prepared to try to get me to have sex with you again, it won't work with both of us living under the same roof. I'll miss you, but I won't feel as sad as I would if my mother and father split up because of this. You may not want me to think of you as my sister, but that's how I do think of you. You took advantage of our closeness, and I let you do it. The worst part of it was, I really enjoyed it. But, no matter how good a fuck you are, you're still my sister, and it would tear the family apart if we allowed it to continue."

"You really liked it?"

"Are you kidding me? That's why I've been acting so weird around you. It was so good it scared me. But, one of us has to move out. I won't hurt the family just to satisfy my dick. I have Uncle Bunny's house, you can move over there until you find your own house."

"I don't want to leave. I really like living here, especially when it was all of us, like it was before we did it. I'm sorry about what happened with Emily. I didn't really mean it when I said it before, but after I found out how much she meant to you, I felt really bad."

"She was a friend, Joyce. A very good friend, but that's all. I didn't buy the ring to ask her to marry me. It was to remind me to think things through before I act. I didn't do that the night we fucked, and, we wound up hurting people we both care about. We hurt each other too, and I know we didn't mean to do that. You need to give something up, your hope of me as a lover, or this family as your family. You can't have both, and I'm determined that I'll never let what happened between us happen again."

"If you liked it and I liked it, why can't we do it, once in awhile?"

"Do you fuck your brother, Jack?"

"Never! He's my brother."

"I bet it would be good if you did. You don't though, because you both have a different kind of relationship. I've never had a sister, not until I got you. That's the relationship I want for us. If you don't want that, then we can be friends, but not friends and lovers."

"Can I lay down on the bed with you, Kenny? I just want to do that one more time. You can hug me, and I won't try to get you to do anything else, I promise."

I looked at her and nodded that this was all right. I got back in bed, under the covers, and Joyce got in on the other side. She left her clothes on, except for her shoes. She got under the covers too, and I reached out and held her in my arms for a long while. The whole time I held her, she was shaking and crying. I felt bad too, but I knew this was the only way. I might have exaggerated a little about how good the sex had been with her, but it wasn't untrue, what I'd said, merely an exaggeration.

After a couple of hours of her crying, she fell asleep in my arms. I was asleep, much later, when I sensed another presence in the room with us. It was Mama, and she was standing on my side of the bed, looking at me. Joyce and I had kicked off the covers in our sleep, and Mama could see that I had my briefs on, and that Joyce was fully clothed. Seeing my eyes open, she leaned down and kissed my cheek. I could feel the dampness her own tears had left on her face.

When I woke up again in the morning, Joyce was gone from my room. When I came downstairs for breakfast, Mama and Gerta were in the kitchen, drinking coffee and talking together quietly.

"Is Joyce up yet?"

"She left here over an hour ago. She seemed fine. Did the two of you come to an understanding?"

"She's going to stay here, and she and I are going to be brother and sister."

"It must have been very hard on her, agreeing to accept that. Especially hard, when she wanted so much more than that."

"I think she finally realized that was the best she could hope for. I'm expecting you to call Dad today, Mama. I think you better find a way to let him win again. Last night I could see the strain this put him under. He was the only one of us who didn't do anything wrong. You owe him something for making him unhappy like you did."

"I didn't cause his unhappiness, Kenny. I simply told him that it was too late in the game for him to start dictating his terms to me."

"The reason it took so long to get him to tell you that he loved you, was because you're so stubborn, and you act so aloof and independent of him. Do you really want him sitting all alone, up there in Bolling, wondering if he made a mistake by telling you that he did?" I heard Gerta making a clucking sound, registering her disapproval of what I'd just said. I turned my head to look at her. "You don't help things any either, by always giving in to her yourself. She grew up believing she always needed to get her own way. She would have been a lot happier if she had been taught that compromise was sometimes a good thing. She's lucky to have picked someone like Dad, someone who is willing to compromise, and to give way if he needs to. There are times though, when even he can't give way. I think this is one of those."

"You think I need to give way to what he wants, Kenny?" Mama was looking at me, and there was a steely glint in her eye.

"What did he want?"

"He wanted me to agree to allow you to live at Bunny's house. He didn't trust that we'd reach a less drastic solution."

"Well, if that's what he wanted, it should be easy for you to give in to him. Just make sure you tell him before you give in, what Joyce and I have agreed to. He knows I'm planning to move into Uncle Bunny's house someday anyway, but he'll realize that now is not a good time for me to do that. Trust him to make the right decision after you tell him that you'll submit to his deciding."

"And, what if he decides he still wants you to move there?"

"Then I will. If we trust him to run all the companies, shouldn't we trust him to run the family too?"

"You're teasing me, right?"

"Yes, Mama, I am. I trust you to help him to make the right decision about my moving. You could learn a lesson or two from Joyce when it comes to persuasion without threat or coercion."

"Kenny, I doubt there's anything that child knows about persuasion that I don't know as well or better. I won't make that same claim about you. I was confident that you'd convince her, I just didn't know how you would manage it, while still leaving her feeling good about the decision."

It was Wednesday that Emily phoned me. She said she had to call me to congratulate me on the way I'd used Steph and Brenda to get even with Don Featherstone.

"I wasn't getting even for me, Emily. I didn't like hearing that he was spreading stories about you."

"Why not? At least all his stories were true."

"Thanks for calling. I'm still very sorry about what happened."

"What about the ring you showed Steph and Brenda? Was that the ring you were going to buy me?"

"It was like that ring, but the other one was sold. I bought it to remind me to think before I do things that hurt people I care about."

"You bought it after the dance?"

"It's only a symbol to me, Em. A reminder. It doesn't mean anything."

"You still owe me a ring and a chain to wear it on. We had a deal."

"That was before. I don't mind kissing you when you have my cum in your mouth, but not when it's someone else's."

"I was mad at you."

"I deserved you being mad too. I'm not saying that I didn't. When you told me what I had to do, you said it was so you wouldn't be mad because of what happened with Joyce. I'm pretty sure you were mad, even after we made our agreement."

"Oh. All right. What are you going to do about Don?"

"Nothing. I don't even know him. It wasn't like he forced you to blow him."

"Not about that. He's really angry, Kenny. He's telling all his friends that he's going to beat the truth out of you."

"I'm not going to do anything, not unless he really does try to do it."

"What are we going to be now? I don't want to go back to how it was before we got to be friends again."

"I don't want that either. There's only so much cum a guy will swallow though, before he says enough is enough."

"How much?"

"About exactly as much as I got from that last kiss you gave me. Suppose that Featherstone guy really wants to see how I liked tasting his jizz? Maybe it isn't the truth that he wants to beat out of me." When I heard Emily laugh, I felt a lot better about things. There was no question that I'd missed her laughter.

"If you did like it, I know where you can get some more."

"Did you save some?"

"No, but Don's not mad at me."

"Maybe I should give you a mouthful of mine to take to him?"

"I wouldn't ever kiss Don Featherstone. Ugh!"

"Well, after we both swallowed his cum, I didn't think having you kissing him was too much to ask."

"I never swallowed it. That was just you. I spit, it was only you who swallowed."

"You never spit mine. You always swallow."

"That's different."

"Why is it different?"

"It just is."

"If you don't tell me, I'm going to hang up the phone." There was a pause, then I heard Emily putting the phone receiver back in its cradle. I had only been kidding her, but, apparently, I'd gone too far with it. I thought about calling her right back, but I decided that I shouldn't. I didn't want to press my luck. I was pretty sure of the reason why she wouldn't answer me. Gerta had been right after all.

That first Monday, Mama had driven over to Bolling, and had wound up spending the night there with Dad. The next afternoon, he was sufficiently caught up with his own heavy workload, that he was able to come back home again.

I had heard, when I stopped off at the diner for a Coke on Tuesday, the day before Emily called me, that Gary and Don Featherstone had gotten into a real fight. Gary hadn't fared very well. A fourteen year old freshman against an eighteen year old senior, that outcome wasn't exactly unexpected. I was angry at myself when I heard the news. I wondered if the fight might have been prevented, if I hadn't taken my own little verbal potshot at Donnie boy with Steph and Brenda. Maybe that was part of the reason for Emily's call. Maybe she was afraid that Donnie would beat me up too. Since she hadn't mentioned Gary's fight, I hadn't wanted to bring it up. She must have felt partly responsible for Gary's beating.

By Friday evening, I was fully caught up with everything I needed to do, both for school, and for the group homes. Mama had turned over responsibility for overseeing the restaurant's progress to Frank Clooney's accounting people. She said I was already too busy with the group homes and my school work. I didn't put up much of a struggle.

I drove over to the diner and got a booth by myself. I was just sitting there sipping at my drink when some guy came over and accosted me.

"Are you the preppy geek who was telling lies about Don Featherstone?"

"That depends, who are you?"

"I'm a friend of Don's. You want to come outside with me, and we can talk about this some more?"

"I'm really more of a lover than a fighter. Do you know where Donnie is? I'd like to see him again. We were interrupted that night at the dance."

"You better stop talking that shit, buddy. Don isn't any kind of homo. Just because you are, don't talk that way about him."

I was having a pretty good time with this, but the other guy was getting pretty angry with me. I slid out of the booth and walked past him, leaving a dollar on the table to pay for the Coke.

"You better run, faggot." When he said that to me, several people let out either relieved or embarrassed titters, thinking the tension was gone because the situation was done with. When I got to the door, about fifteen feet from where he was standing, I turned and spoke to him.

"I thought you wanted us to go outside so you could talk to me? Are you coming?

In a matter of seconds, the place was emptying out. Everyone always wants to see people fighting. It's an ingrained part of the culture. I noted, with a certain satisfaction, that Donnie boy's friend wasn't in the forefront of the people streaming out behind me. He did come out finally, but twenty people had come out before him.

He came towards me somewhat hesitantly, unsure of how to proceed, now that I'd accepted his earlier challenge. He stopped about five feet away from me.

"I don't like being called names. You've never tried to suck my dick, so you can't call me a faggot. If Donnie wants to call me a faggot, well, that's different." I heard dark muttering all around me. People were pretty disgusted that I'd all but admitted what they had heard about Donnie and me. I was counting on people believing the worst. That too was an ingrained part of the culture. "Where is Donnie?"

I heard some people laughing, and others started clapping. When I turned my head, there was Donnie Featherstone, jumping out of the driver's side of an old Ford pick up. I just assumed someone had called him. I lifted up my right hand, and gave him my most limp wristed finger wave. "Hi Donnie. You can't believe what these bitches were all saying about us."

I wasn't too unhappy about the way the fight ended. It was broken up by several adults in the crowd. Donnie and I had traded some punches, missing more times than we landed. It wasn't a fight between experienced brawlers. Each of us had done enough damage to the other to be able to claim a victory, at least among our own friends and family.

I never admitted that I'd been lying about Donnie, and with all the people who were there to witness the conversation I had with Donnie's friend, none of them could believe that anyone would admit to being part of a homosexual tryst, not without it being true. Donnie hadn't managed to beat the truth out of me.

Saturday morning, Emily called me again. "Why did you do that? Why did you deliberately go looking for Don last night?"

"I did it for the same reason you swallow my cum, because you're important to me, and it was one way for me to show you that you were."

"You didn't prove anything by fighting with him. Nothing was changed."

"You don't know that. Something might be changed for me. Something might be changed for Donnie boy too. Maybe he'll think twice about shooting off his mouth, or about beating up fourteen year old boys."

"You're such an asshole, Kenny. I hate you!" Then she hung up on me again. Not as softly this time.

I went downstairs and asked Hans to do me a favor. He looked at me, listening to what I wanted him to do. At the end of my explanation, he was smiling at me, and nodding that he'd be happy to do it.

Twenty minutes went by from the time he left, until he finally got back.

"Did she open up the back door of the limo?"

"Only after I promised her that you weren't back there."

"Did she see the ring and the chain."

"Ja, she saw them right away."

"Did she take it, or did she leave it there?"

"She took it, and she put it around her neck, right away. After she did that, she started crying, and then she gave me a message to tell you. She said she swallows it because it's part of you."

I went back to my room and waited for her phone call. When she didn't call me by eight o'clock, I went to get dressed up for the dance. I walked into the club at a few minutes before nine. I didn't see Emily at first, and then I spotted her sitting with her family. I was already halfway to her when she stood up and faced me. She was wearing the chain, and I saw light bouncing off one of the diamond's facets. I kept on coming until I was only inches away from her. I lifted her up, putting all her weight in my hands, holding her around her waist. When we kissed this time, it was me who stuck my tongue in her mouth.

"Are you using a different toothpaste, Em? It tastes a lot better than your old one."

"Did you get my message?"

"I got it. I see you're wearing my message to you."

"Is this a message? I thought you said it was some kind of reminder, or a symbol."

"To me it was a symbol, and a reminder. To you it is a message and a promise."

"A promise? What promise?"

"I can't tell you yet. Ask me a year from now. I'll tell you then."

"What's the message then?"

"That I'm willing to forget what happened to us last Saturday, and to not be mad at you for doing what you did. If you keep the chain and the ring, you have to keep your part of the deal, and not be mad at me for what I did with Joyce."

"Why do I have to wait a year to find out what your promise is?"

"Because that's part of it too."

"So, we're still just going to be friends?"

"Just friends."

"What about the other thing?" We were moving away from her parents table, starting to dance together. "The fucking?"

"What about it? That was never a part of our agreement to be friends again. If we both want to, that's fine. If one of us doesn't, that's fine too, and we won't."

"What about us fucking other people?"

"You need to decide that for yourself. I've already decided about myself."

"What did you decide?"

"I decided I didn't want to fuck anyone else for awhile."

"What about Joyce?"

"No more fucking with Joyce."

"Brenda?" She lowered her voice when she asked me that. I knew my answer was important to her. I wasn't sure what she wanted me to say though. I took a chance and told her the truth, what I'd prefer.

"No more Brenda." She stopped looking up at my face, preferring to lay her head upon my chest instead. I couln't tell if she was happy with what I'd told her, or if she was disappointed by it.

"Good. That's what I wanted to hear you say." We both stayed at the club until after the last dance. We didn't dance every dance, but we danced all the slow ones together. I saw Emily's parents looking at me, a worried expression on their faces.

Sunday, I got up early and went to get Emily. She wanted to go to Uncle Bunny's, but I wanted us to go to the diner together first. Wouldn't you know it? Steph was there again, and with Brenda Phillips. Ever sensitive to proper social etiquette, Steph barged right over to us, wanting to be the first to come over and congratulate us on getting back together again. Emily spent five minutes showing off her ring to both girls, telling them that we had decided to wait until after I graduated from the Academy before getting married. There was the usual squealing and screaming over this announcement. Emily let it go on for a minute, but then she put a quick and permanent end to it.

"I've already told Kenny that he has to be on his best behavior until then though. If I ever taste any more of Don's cum on his breath again, when I'm kissing him, this whole wedding thing is off." I smiled at her, reaching over to kiss her hand. When she lifted her thumb up, I never hesitated, sucking it into my mouth, and making certain to put lots of my tongue on display as I did so. I didn't see Steph and Brenda leave, but I felt the table shaking when Steph got up to leave.

At Uncle Bunny's house, we made a sweeter, more tender, kind of love than anything we'd been used to before. I didn't have to restrain Em's hands or her feet, and she didn't cry out when we reached orgasm together. Still, it was a very satisfying experience for both of us.

"Kenny, you forgot to use a rubber."

"I didn't forget."

"You don't care if I get pregnant."

"You won't."

"I might. I'm at the right time of my cycle for getting pregnant."

"I wanted to feel your pussy, with nothing else separating us."

"Did something happen to make you decide to do that?"

"Well, in a way, your mother kind of decided it for me. I saw her at the drugstore last week, when I went to pick up a prescription for Hans. I recognized the little wheel things. I knew they were for you."

"How did you know that? They might have been hers."

"Couldn't be. Why would they adopt you and Gary, if your mom could make her own babies? When I told you what I suspected about your dad possibly being my real father, you didn't say it wasn't possible."

"That's a very convincing argument, well thought out, and very logical. Only two problems with it that I can see. My mother isn't sterile, she just has some hereditary gene that makes it undesirable for her to make any babies. Some kind of disease gene that both of them carry. That was her prescription, not mine. I'm not on any kind of birth control pill."

"Emily, I'm so sorry."

"You are so easy to fool, Kenny. You should write a book about your life so far. You could call it "Gullible's Travels". Don't worry, I've been on the pill for over a year. I had you going though, didn't I?"

"Okay, I admit it, I asked Gary, and he said you were on them."

"You did not."

"Did to, ask him."



-------

Chapter 21

Things were progressing smoothly enough with me. School was going well. I had just learned that my application to Notre Dame had been accepted and approved. Emily and I were having fun together, except for the two times that Shirley had phoned me.

Shirley called within a week of Emily and I reconciling. We both refrained from volunteering or asking about our dating status. I'd say it was a call between friends, except there seemed to be a slight strain or separation in our choice of topics to discuss. We talked about school, family, weather, and our respective Holiday plans. When I told her I'd been accepted at Notre Dame, she said she had hoping I'd pick a school closer to where she lived.

"This doesn't seem right to me, Kenny. Is there something the matter? You don't seem like your normal self."

"No, every thing's fine. Things are different for us now, and I guess we aren't feeling as relaxed as we were with each other before. We're miles apart, and we're both leading totally separate lives now. Before, we had so many shared experiences to talk about. Now, its more like speaking to someone you aren't sure that you really know that well anymore."

"I called because I wanted to keep in touch. We said we would. Did you change your mind about that?"

I hesitated to answer her. It wasn't as simple as she made it sound.

"I know we said that, and I still want us to, but, there's still things now, things that neither of us wants to bring up. I can only tell you that it might still be too soon for us to just be friends again. I don't want to give up, but there's things I'd be uncomfortable talking about with you right now."

We spent another five minutes on the phone, but it was still strained and uncomfortable for each of us. We ended the call saying that we should find a way to be able to talk together without the uneasiness we were feeling.

Shirley called me again the next day. This time, she began talking as soon as I came on the line. It was like she needed to say something before she lost the nerve o say it.

"I called you back again because my mother thought talking to you might cheer me up. Clay and I broke up last week. I didn't love him, but, I liked him a lot, and now there's no one around here for me to go out with. I guess I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I forgot to tell you yesterday, but I think I've pretty much stopped growing. I haven't grown at all since the last time we talked. I'm still only six two and a half. Are you still growing?"

"I think I might be. I noticed some of my slacks seem to be a little bit higher up on my shoes than before. I think I might be six three now. See, all that worrying you did was for nothing. I can't believe there aren't a lot of guys taller than me, out there where you live."

"I guess, but I was looking for boy's tall enough for me to have some room to grow, just in case. What I wanted to tell you was it wasn't ever the same with Clay as it was with you, Kenny. He didn't listen to me when I told him what I needed him to do. He wouldn't ever give me the time I needed to get ready. After we would do it, then he'd get mad because he'd ask me, and I'd have to tell him that nothing happened for me."

"I'm going out with someone else now, Shirley. We kind of have an agreement about us seeing other people."

"We're just talking, Kenny. I'm a thousand miles away from Ridgeline. Who is it? Do I know her?"

"Emily Carstairs."

"Emily. Well, at least she lives close to you. Do you love her?"

"I don't think so. I like her a lot, and we can talk to each other. She makes me laugh, and she doesn't get too mad when I'm too busy to spend a lot of time with her. We're good friends right now."

"Good enough friends that you both agreed not to see other people?"

"I guess. We kind of had an incident near the beginning, that's why we decided to do that."

"You don't have room in your life for me anymore?"

"No, I do. I just wanted you to know that I'm seeing another girl, and that we have an understanding."

"What about when Brenda comes home for Christmas?"

"We have the same understanding, and that includes Brenda."

"Does it include Brenda and Emily doing things together?"

"We didn't talk about that. I'm not sure how I'd feel if they did. We said already about Brenda and me though."

"After Clay, I'm even more sorry that we moved. My mother told me that I couldn't have left you before, not if you'd really been the one for me."

"I don't believe in that one perfect person theory. I'll bet you find another boyfriend soon."

"If I do, do you want to bet it will be someone who can make me have orgasms like you did?"

"I don't know enough about it to bet. If you find someone who listens to you, I think so. You need to help him along at first, just like you did with me."

"What would happen if I moved back to Ridgeline? Do you think we would get back together?"

"Is this just a what if question, or is there some reason for you to believe you might?"

"What if."

"I can only answer you this way, Shirley. I won't make a decision like that until after I see you standing in front of me. If you were here, I'd be able to make a quick decision."

"I talked to my father about what you said, but he didn't say much about it. There are problems at the mill though, labor problems, foreign competition, things like that. My father said things will only get worse if new housing starts keep dropping like they have been, and he also said something about the value of the dollar. I heard him talking with my mother, and he sounded really worried."

"You might mention to him that we're up over twenty per cent year over year, and that most of the gain is from vending, which has the best profit margins for us. Our business is strong, and its getting even stronger. My Dad still likes yours, and he can have his old job back, if he wants it. I already asked my Dad. I drove by your old house last week, and I see the for sale sign is still up."

"If I was there in front of you right now, in your room, would you make love to me?"

"Is it a good day?"

"It's a very good day."

"I'd need to go see Emily first, and have a talk with her. I've already hurt her once before, and I wouldn't want to do it again. I can't really say what I'd decide if you were here right now. It would be a really big temptation though."

"You said she was only a friend, and that you didn't love her."

"She is a friend, a good friend, and we have an understanding about some things. I'd go talk to her first, as soon as I knew how I felt when I saw you again. I'd be honest with her, just like I'm being honest with you."

We talked for awhile longer, but it was mostly the two of us making our positions clearer. After I got off the phone, I spent some time thinking about what Shirley had said and asked. When I was done with it, I picked up the phone and called Emily. I asked her if I could come see her and take her over to Uncle Bunny's for a talk.

She was out front waiting when I pulled up. I think she knew by my face that something was wrong. We were quieter than usual on the ride over to my uncle's house. Inside, I took us into the main living room and sat down on one of the sofas. I patted the place next to me, and when she sat down beside me, I took her hand with both of mine.

"Shirley called me today."

"Is she coming back here?"

"I'm not sure. She said something about it being possible because her dad's company is having some problems. My father would like to hire her father back for our company. The house they own here hasn't sold in the five months they've had it on the market. Right now, its only a vague possibility."

"What happens to us if she comes back?"

"That's pretty much what she asked me too."

"Did you tell her about us?"

"Yes. She just broke up with her boyfriend. I told her I was seeing you, and that we have an understanding."

"I've been worried all week, but I thought I was worried about when Brenda gets here. I haven't even been thinking about Shirley."

"Shirley asked me if our understanding included Brenda too. I told her it did."

"Did she believe you?"

"She asked if that included you and Brenda too."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her that we hadn't discussed that."

"You told me once that it didn't bother you if I did things with Brenda, that you wouldn't be jealous."

"I remember saying that. I never asked you."

"I thought about what I'd do if she called me and wanted to be friends again. I know she'd only offer to do that because you and I are like we are now, friends again. I don't think I want to see her right now, or anytime soon."

"So, what do you think about Shirley's phone call?"

"Did you talk about other things too, or just about her coming back?"

"We talked about school and family, and she complained about her old boyfriend not satisfying her, because he wouldn't listen or take the time to get her off."

"Did she tell you she wanted you to get her off?"

"She didn't put it like that. She asked what I'd do if she came back, meaning would I stay with you, or would I want to get back with her. After, when I told her I wasn't going to make that decision then, she asked me if I'd fuck her if she was in my bedroom instead of on the phone a thousand miles away. I told her I'd have to go talk to you before I made that decision."

"Is she in your bedroom now? Is that why you're looking so serious?"

"She's in South Carolina. As far as I know, she's going to stay there."

"Do you know what you'd decide, if she was here?"

"I know it would be a tough decision. I'd rather not have to make it before I'm forced to."

"Suppose I told you that you have to decide right now?"

"Is that what you're telling me?"

"Just suppose. Can't you pretend to make a decision, for me?"

"If I had to decide right now, with everything I know right now, I'd choose to stay with you."

"Does that mean you love me?"

"No, it means you're sitting here with me now. I'm not going to decide on Shirley when there's a huge chance she won't be coming back. If she does come back, I'll know more, and I'll make my decision then."

"You mean I'll probably be gone if she comes back to town. Kenny, why did you even tell me she called you? Now, I just have more things to worry about, things that I don't have any control over how they turn out."

"I told you because you should know. I never tried to hide the fact that I loved Shirley a lot when she was here. If I already knew for certain that I'd choose Shirley if she came back, would you want me to tell you?"

"No. I wouldn't want you to tell me. I already get up every morning wondering if this is going to be the day we end it. With you, it has to be day by day. I never know what's going to happen with you. We're just friends. That's what you always tell me. How am I supposed to want to hear you tell me answers like that. I already have a good idea of what they'll be."

"Friends is just a word. You can't describe a whole relationship with one word, Em. It's easier to say we're friends. Shirley and I are just friends now too. I wanted to talk to you about the phone call from Shirley because just her calling affects us. The rest of it, I have no reason for believing it's going to happen. If it did though, I'd come talk to you again before I made any decision. I hope you'd do the same for me. You never made any decisions, at least you never told me you made them. I made my decisions when we got our other situation straightened out, and I told you what they were."

"Are you asking me if I sucked any other cocks since then, Kenny?"

"No, and that wasn't what I meant either. I don't want to make the same kinds of mistakes we made before. I'm telling you what happened, and what I'm planning on doing."

"You aren't telling me what you're planning, you're warning me that Shirley might be coming back here. I have to worry about what will happen if she does come back. Like I said, it's always day by day with you."

"What can I do to make it easier for you not to worry?"

"It doesn't matter. We're just friends. You needed somebody to fuck you while you were between girlfriends. I volunteered, I guess."

"Em, you know that isn't fair or accurate. We don't have to do anything. We are friends first. I'm willing to just be friends, without the sex, if you'd prefer to make it that way."

"Then you have decided. Why didn't you just tell me that from the beginning, instead of beating around the bush about it? At least this time, you told me before it happened. Take me home."

"If I do take you home, our deal is off. I'm not going to be playing this game with you. Nothing has happened, but you're upset and acting like it did. We were doing fine with how things were."

"You were doing fine. You kept all your options open. You said you weren't going to fuck anybody else for awhile. You never said how long awhile is. I guess awhile means until you find someone else you'd rather fuck. It would be easier if you just took me home now, and then we could start all over, with no promises and no guarantees from either of us. You do what you want to, and I'll do what I want to. If you want to do something with me, you can call and ask me. I'll decide if I want to do it or not, when you actually call and ask me."

"You might be waiting a long time for my call, Emily. If you need to talk to me though, you can call me. Are you sure you want to do it this way?"

"I'm sure. Take me back home."

After I dropped her off at her house, I thought about what she had said. Other than our understanding about me not fucking other girls, nothing had really changed. There was the implication that Emily might not be as available to me as I was used to her being, but she had always had that option. She was reacting to what she saw as a threat, or at least a challenge from Shirley. I saw no gain for her with the new way of treating each other. In my limited experience, lower expectations almost always led to less favorable performance. Her timing was poor also. School let out for both of us in less than a week, and we would both be on vacation at the same time. I had been looking forward to taking things easier. I knew this disruption would prevent me from enjoying the time off as much as I would have if Emily and I were still together.

I had been out of school for two days when Emily called me.

"You really aren't going to call me, are you?"

"I might call you. I'm still trying to figure out what you think you've gained by changing things."

"I can't be disappointed now. I don't expect anything from you anymore."

"Were you disappointed that I didn't call you?"

"Yes."

"So, you were expecting me to call you?"

"I hoped you would. Did she call you again?"

"Shirley? No. This isn't about Shirley. This is about you not having the control over me that you want. You aren't comfortable that I'm not tied to you as much as you want me to be. Married people promise forever and ever, not kids like us. I told you before that I'm too busy to have a real girlfriend. I already spent more time with you than I should have. You can't control me by what you're doing."

"Have you been going out with anyone?"

"I've been too busy, but I have some time off now."

"Are you going to ask me out?"

"No. If you think we should start over, we can both start all the way over. I don't want to monopolize all your time. I wouldn't want you missing out on anything."

"I never said I was missing out on anything. I said it would be better for both of us to be day to day with each other. It isn't fair that I'm the only one worried about that."

"Okay. I'm glad you were worried about what's fair. Were you planning on returning the chain and ring? I need another reminder again."

"You don't think I did enough with you to earn keeping them?"

"I'm not sure. They cost me about two hundred dollars. Did you do enough to earn that much?"

"I think so."

"Okay, then you can keep them. Do I owe you anything more, or are we all even now?"

"You don't owe me anything. I'm sorry I bothered you. You said I could call you."

"I'm sorry. I did say that. What was that, a week ago now? Mama says Brenda is coming home tonight. I just thought you might like to know that. She's going to be at the Christmas Dance at the club too. According to the reports we've gotten, she's starting to do better with her therapy."

"Why did you bring Brenda up?"

"I guess because I knew you liked to hear how she's doing. Maybe I wanted to change the subject, since we weren't going anywhere good with what we were talking about. If you want to talk about something else, we can talk about day to day things. The Christmas party for the group homes is all set. You should see all the presents that Mama's ladies group have ready. The boys are going to go crazy when they see all the stuff they're getting. Everyone's getting a new bike from our family this year, and we're not sure how we're going to fit everything under the trees at the homes."

"Are you going to the party?"

"Sure. I wouldn't miss it for anything."

"I take it that I'm not invited?"

"I haven't decided if I'm going to go stag, or with a date. Everything is day to day with me. It's impossible to plan ahead, but I find it's a lot more flexible this way."

"What did we decide about fucking? Am I allowed to ask you now, or is it only you that gets to ask?"

"An interesting question, why do you ask?"

"Why do you think?"

"I don't want to presume. Why don't you just tell me?"

"All right. I'm horny. I miss having sex with you."

"I miss having sex with you too, but I feel uncomfortable right now under this new thing we're doing. I don't want to come out and ask you what you've been up to, but, unless I do, I'd need to wear a rubber if we agreed to have sex together."

"If I told you I hadn't been with anyone else since I was with you, would you believe me?"

"Good question. Do you want to change it to a declarative sentence, or do you want to keep it as a question?"

"I haven't touched another boy since the last time we fucked. Satisfied?"

"When and where did you want to do this, and are there any special rules I'd need to follow?"

"At your uncle's house, as soon as you can make it. The only rule is I'd like to have a good cum."

"Do you want me to give you a ride there?"

"It's on your way."

"I have only one request to make of you before I give you my answer. Don't use this as a way to set me up like you did that night at the club. I couldn't accept anything like that again."

"I wouldn't do that again."

I picked her up in front of her house. For the first time in a long time, I didn't know what to say to her. The arrangement we'd made didn't feel right to me. I didn't think we were making the right decision. We hadn't reached any accord on the problems we were having. This was just for having sex. I almost said something to that effect, but Emily seemed just as uncomfortable as I felt. When we went inside, instead of heading back to the bedroom, Emily took a seat on one of the sofas.

"Can we talk before we do this, Kenny?"

"I hope we can always talk, Em. What is it?"

"This isn't working out the way I had hoped it would. Do you remember before, when I said this wasn't an equal relationship we had?" I nodded to her that I remembered her saying that. "That was because I loved you, and you just liked me. Now, you act as if you don't even like me anymore. If you want to have sex with me, you have to let me know that you do like me."

"How do you want me to do that? I've always liked you. Sometimes, I like you more than other times, but even when we weren't friends anymore, I still liked you. Is that okay? Does it answer your question?"

"Is that the truth, or just because you're getting horny too?"

"I was horny, but I'm not now. None of this seems right to me. We're negotiating on the phone for sex. That isn't the way we've done it before. So far, everything I've seen and heard from you today has made me feel bad. I don't think that was your intention, but we're having a tough time right now, and nothing is coming out natural between us. Its painful to see us this way."

"I feel like that too, except I still am horny. I wish I wasn't. I tried to tell myself not to call you today, but the more I told myself that, the more I needed to hear your voice. I know it doesn't make any sense, but ever since the last time we were here, I've wanted to be with you more than I did when we were still together."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Did it make yours grow fonder?"

"No. I never like it when people try to push me into doing what they want, not if I don't want it too. That whole Shirley thing was purely speculative, and other than telling you about her call, no other action was necessary. You needed to push it though, and here we are, a week later, having to negotiate doing what we always did naturally before. I already know that you resent me not giving you what you want. I've tried to give you everything I could give, as far as my time, attention and affection. This thing tells me it wasn't enough. I'm sorry, but, truthfully, I think I've given you more of those things than I'd have been willing to give to anyone else. I have other commitments, not to other girls, but to my family, my school work, and the group homes. You want to be first with me, I guess that's the way most relationships are. You get one hundred per cent of what attention I have to give to romance, but it apparently isn't enough for you. If you're insecure, it isn't because of what I'm giving you, but because of what you want that I can't give you."

"What about Shirley?"

"What about her? The biggest diffence I think between what Shirley would do and what you've done, is that Shirley would try to find a way that she could be a part of the other things that take up so much of my time. You seem satisfied to wait until I have free time for you, or to pout because whatever I have to give you isn't enough."

"I have school too you know, and homework. I also have a family I need to spend time with. I make time for you, even if it means some of the things I want to do get left undone. I don't put everything else in my life in front of you, and then just offer you whatever is left."

"I'm glad we're talking about these things, but mostly we're just defining our differences. That isn't going to solve the problems, but it is better than us ignoring each other."

"My main problem is I want you to make me cum."

"No, your main problem is to make me want to make you cum."

"Do you think it would help if we both took all our clothes off and then talked about how I could make you want to make me cum?"

"I don't think well when I'm in front of someone with no clothes on."

"That's a good start. I didn't come here to think with you. What I want us to do doesn't require much thought. Its more of a hands on thing. You put your hands on me, and I put mine on you."

"I guess it wouldn't hurt our negotiations any if I demonstrated my good intentions by giving you one, tiny, orgasm. It would be a demonstration of my good faith."

"I need more than a tiny one. I need one like I get when you have to hold me down."

"I can't give you one like that as a demonstration of good faith. Those are reserved for special relationships, ones like we used to have, before we decided to go day to day. I can give you a medium orgasm using my tongue though. I think that's enough to remind you of what it is you've been missing."

We spent a few minutes talking like that, before we finally settled on having a quick sixty nine together. The one who came first had to pay off the wager. If I won, Emily agreed to let me tease her for twenty minutes with my dick. If Emily won, I had to hold her, fully restrained, until she had a big cum. Emily won.

In spite of the two of us finally negotiating having sex together, there was still some evidence that we were out of sync. It took much longer than usual to get Emily to have a big cum, and she didn't make any attempt to free herself from my grasp. I think she might not have cum at all if it hadn't been such a long time since we'd done anything. When we were finished, I think we both felt a little dissatisfied. I pulled up into Emily's driveway later, and when she got out of the car, she turned back and told me that she had called me first, and the next call was up to me.

I waited until Christmas morning to call Emily, but her mother told me she had spent the night at a friend's house, and wouldn't be back until the early afternoon.

I had no doubts about who the friend was she spent the night with. My lack of doubt was only confirmed when Emily called me back at three that afternoon, to wish me a Merry Christmas, and to tell me that Brenda had sent her love.

The boys had a terrific Christmas party, complete with Santa Claus and more presents than any of them could carry at one time. We had rented a banquet room in one of the hotels in Bolling, and it had been decorated with four trees and plenty of Christmas lights strung up in the room. Marie and Sonja had gone all out catering the party, and each of the group home moms had contributed so many cookies and other baked sweets that no one left without a large bag of cookies to take back home with them. I had elected to go to the party stag. It started at five and didn't break up until almost ten o'clock. Some of the adult guests had gone over to another, adjoining room, to celebrate with a few adult beverages. These were people who Mama had elisted to be patrons of the individual boys, and of the group homes themselves. Most were accompanied by their husbands.

It was the day after school started up, before Emily called me again.

"How mad are you, Kenny?"

"I don't know yet. How mad should I be?"

"Are you asking me to tell you what Brenda and I did together?"

"No. Whatever you did together is your business. We are still on the day to day thing, right?"

"Are we? I wasn't sure. I didn't do anything with her anyway, except answer a lot of questions when she called me. She sounded good, but she still has the same basic attitude she always had. She's learned to act like she's concerned about things other than herself though. She had me fooled until I told her you and I had broken up again. Did she call you?"

"She called here twice. The first time was right after she got in, that night we were over at Uncle Bunny's together. Mama talked to her mostly, but I got on the phone to tell her hello, and to congratulate her for lasting so long at the school. She wanted to know if the offer I had made her, before she left for school, was still open. I told her it wasn't. She called again, the day after Christmas, for me, and asked me why I wasn't at the Christmas dance at the club. I guess Mama had told her we were all probably going to be there. I told her that I hadn't felt like dancing with anybody. She asked if I knew she was going to be there. I told her I had known it."

"How come you didn't go?"

"I had something more important to do. None of us went to the dance at the club. We were over in Bolling hosting the group home's Christmas party. We didn't get back until about eleven o'clock. The kids all wanted to have a family thing, at their homes, in the morning, so we had to switch the time for our party around. It worked out well though, because a lot of the patrons came who wouldn't have been able to make an earlier party. Mama fed them all the free booze they wanted, and got them to write some big, tax deductible, checks, just in time to take a tax deduction for this year."

"Did you think I spent Christmas Eve over at Brenda's house?"

"Yes. I was pretty sure you did. I didn't know you had other girlfriends that you knew that well."

"Who said it was a girl?"

"Oh. Well, I just assumed, since your mother told me you spent the night at a friend's house."

"I told her I was staying over at this girl's house." I didn't ask her where she really stayed. I stayed quiet, waiting for her to say whatever she was going to say. "Aren't you even going to ask me where I really spent the night?"

"I don't think I will, and I'd just as soon you not tell me. As long as we're day to day, I guess it isn't any of my business."

"You won't know how mad to be unless I tell you where I stayed, and what we did."

"I hate this, Em. Its either a bad joke, or you're deliberately trying to hurt me. Either way, there is a better way for you to go. You can stop this now, and nothing has to change, or, you can continue it and risk changing everything for the worse."

"I waited three days for you to call me. I don't care if it gets worse. You could have called me."

"I did call you, and your mother told me you had been sleeping over at a friend's house. Do you know how much work we had to do to get things ready for the boy's party? I was pretty busy. I also had to fill out some income expenditure documents to protect our tax exempt status. There was also a lot of last minute shopping to do, and I had to assemble twenty four brand new bikes for the boy's Christmas. When did I have the time to call you?"

"You didn't have five minutes to spare for me?"

"I did. I got in after midnight on the twenty third. I could have called you then, but I thought it might wake up your parents. I left the house before five in the morning on Christmas Eve, and I didn't get home until after two on Christmas morning. I don't think you really believe me when I tell you I don't have much time. I had responsibilities and commitments to the group homes and to the boys. I'm tired. If you need to tell me, then go ahead and do it. Otherwise, let's just drop this now. I already have enough problems to deal with."

"Do you even care? I don't think you do."

"You're wrong. I do care, but you didn't ask me that before you did whatever you decided to do. You didn't call me up and ask me if I thought you should do it, or warn me that you were thinking of doing it. This was your decision, Emily. you have another minute to decide what you want to do. I'm hanging up the phone after that." Emily didn't say anything more in the allotted time. I told her goodbye and hung up the phone.



-------

Chapter 22

I called Emily several times over the next week or so. Each time I'd reach her, our conversations would only be tired rehashes of her insecurity about where she stood with me, and would end with her making demands that I let her know what our future was going to be as a couple. What she got from me was another declaration stating my total unwillingness to make any changes to the priorities I'd assigned to my life.

We couldn't seem to make any progress towards surmounting any of these differences. When either of us tried to forge an agreement to attempt yet another new beginning, some stumbling block kept popping up, to keep the attempt from succeeding. It finally ended, for the both of us, when she told me she was finished with trying, and, at the same time, she asked me not to call her anymore. She modified that request though, telling me I could only call her again if I had something substantially better to offer her. She made it very clear that whatever I offered her, it needed to be much better than what we had before.

Emily's giving up on me had caused me to make an examination of some of my values. I also knew I had to reassess the priorities for living that I'd adopted. After only a short time spent doing that, I had to admit that I'd changed, and that the changes probably hadn't been for the better. Emily was usually very easygoing and accepting. For her to have given up on me, I must have fallen far short of what I'd intended.

To put things in some kind of perspective, I needed to determine how important it was for me to have a female presence in my life. After things ended with Shirley, I had altered my expectations, trying to de-emphasize the importance of striving for permanence in my romantic relationships. With Emily, because of this de-emphasis, I had been the one setting all the limits. While I didn't force her to do anything, I only offered her, at best, very limited access to my emotions, allowing her to be with me, only when it suited my needs or my schedule.

It wasn't just that I let Emily know that I didn't love her, I also showed her that there wasn't any hope for me ever allowing her to cause any change in that condition. She had ended up feeling that all I wanted her around for was sex, or, at best, a few minutes of companionship.

Emily hadn't shown much interest in either of my projects, or in any of the things I did that were outside the scope of our limited personal relationship. Maybe that was normal, something to be expected from a sixteen year old girl. Emily suffered though, when compared to Shirley, in that regard. Shirley had always been interested in whatever I was doing or thinking. Was it just a case of me being too self absorbed? I didn't know, but what I did know, was that I wanted and expected Emily to be interested in more than just what the two of us were doing.

Finding myself currently free of any social attachments, I let myself become totally immersed in my school work, and in the group homes. I started spending a lot more time in the evenings with Joyce, working to make sure the first modular expansion would go smoothly when the time came to finally launch it. Construction on the four new homes, over by Holton, would begin in March, and Joyce and I had determined that we would make an attempt to secure all necessary licensing and permits prior to the homes actually being built. To accomplish this, we needed to lock in the final set of building plans.

We had purchased a twelve acre tract of land, and commissioned an engineering firm to subdivide it into four buildable lots, each containing three acres of land. Our architect had designed the four houses to face out into a common green belt that used up most of the available land, other than whatever was necessary for the houses themselves. Each home would have four bedrooms, and four adjoining full bathrooms, with another half bathroom downstairs, for guests, and to allow the boys to wash up for meals. There were huge living and family rooms downstairs, as well as a large upstairs room, for the boys to use either for studying together, or as a game room. The house parent's bedroom was down on the first floor.

Sandy and Joyce had secured a grant for the basic building costs, but Mama and I had added substantially to that, so we could build it with all the extra amenities we wanted them to have. With six growing boys in a home, one clothes washer and dryer wasn't sufficient. We had three of each in our homes, in a laundry room built off the kitchen for easy access. There were clothes chutes in each of the upstairs bedrooms, these fed dirty clothes directly down to clothes bins in the laundry room. Laundry duties were a part of each boys daily assigned chores. In the kitchen, we had a smaller commercial dishwasher, along with a walk in freezer, and a commercial sized refrigerator.

Wherever possible, we tried to use time saving appliances in the houses. Mama had suggested getting a maid service, but we overruled her on that.

One of the problems we were having in the four existing group homes was with the house parents getting burnt out and exhausted. We hadn't realized how all consuming a task it was to raise six boys, seven day a week, without any breaks. When we did start to see tempers getting short and, in at least one case, marital problems, we acted right away to alleviate the problem.

Sandy interviewed, hired, and trained two local couples, both with grown families of their own, to come to each of the homes for three days and nights, once every two weeks, to act as grandparents for the boys, and as relief help for our house parents. This really improved everyone's situation, almost immediately. Both of Sandy's choices were couples in their sixties, who were very active and healthy. Both of the relief grandfathers were men who liked to hike and fish. The boys learned a lot from going on long walks, and from going fishing with them.

We went out and put together some rather elaborate camping gear, encouraging all the men to take the boys out camping so they could see more of the countryside, and to also allow the house mothers and grandmothers to either participate too, or to get a chance to stay home and take things easier.

When the question came up, from one of our houseparents, about hunting with some of the older boys, we needed to say no. This was primarily because the boy's legal guardians, in most cases, this was the state of Kansas, couldn't justify taking the risk of there being a shooting accident.

Even though I was keeping myself very busy, I still had some time on my hands. I hadn't realized before, the hole in my life that not having someone else in it would make. To fill it, I started making calls to people. I called my Aunt Clara a lot, just to check in with her about how things were coming between her and her mother, Mildred. I went over to visit them both occasionally, trying to get to know my grandmother, and to assure myself that neither of them had murdered the other in their sleep.

They didn't have a love hate relationship, but this was only because there seemed to be an absence of any love. Taking care of Mildred was both a duty and a chore that Aunt Clara was assuming. It was a sacrifice she had willingly opted to make. My grandmother, on the other hand, loudly lamented having signed over her rights to her daughter, and was constantly saying hurtful things, to strike back at what she saw as her personal tormentor. It wasn't a pleasant living environment for either of them.

In early February, during a short break from school, I drove over to visit with Anne Coulter, at the facility she had resided in since before Uncle Bunny had died. She looked healthier than she had been the last time I'd seen her. I told the people at the desk that she was my birth mother. Without checking anything to substantiate my claim, they went in the day room to ask her if she wanted to see me.

When she came out, a few minutes later, she looked very nervous at first. She seemed timid and afraid of everything and everyone. I noticed she would give a little startled jump at every sudden noise. She also looked very tired to me.

"Did you come here to make me go back home?" These were her first words to me. From the way she said it, it was obvious that she feared that my answer might be yes."

"No. I casme to see you and to talk. Do you like living here?"

"It's okay, I guess. I have my friends here now, and no one is yelling at me all the time. I heard from Clara that the other man had died, the one who said he was your father."

"No, that was my Uncle Bunny that died. My Dad is in good health. He's the one you met. Aunt Clara told me that you don't really want to leave here. She said you do things to hurt yourself, because you're afraid they'll make you leave here if you were to get better."

"No I don't hurt myself. I would like to leave, but not to go back there. Clara's as bad as my mother, you don't really know her. She used to hurt me all the time, and she was always quoting from the Bible at me, telling me I was going to go to Hell for all my sins."

"Have you had a chance to think any more about who my real father could be?"

"It isn't something I like to think about. Why does it matter to you? Clara says you've got it really good now. You should forget about this other stuff."

"It matters to me, and I think it should matter to you too. I'm not asking for very much from you, just the names of the people it could have been. Why does it bother you to help me with this?"

"You must already hate me, Kenny, and if I tell you about the things I did, you'll just have more reason for hating me. I already feel bad about what happened to you, but, I can't take back what I did. I'm not happy either. I'm not proud of what I am."

"I don't hate you. I don't even remember you. I blame you for letting me grow up thinking I was abandoned, and for abandoning me to live in that orphanage, but I accept it now at least. I'm not running away from it. The good things about it are that I can appreciate what I have been given now. I still want to know who my real father was, and I'm expecting you to help me figure it out."

"I can't remember things. A lot of it was blurry even when I was doing it. I would be drunk or loaded, and sometimes I didn't pay much attention to who I was with. There were three or four people that I did things with regularly, but there were others, some I didn't even know. I used to get passed around some, to pay for the drugs or the liquor. It could be from one of those times. I just don't know."

"I asked you before about Mr. Carstairs. When you got pregnant, there were rumors that he might have been responsible."

"My mother made him get an insurance policy for me, I remember that, but she was trying to make some money. She didn't have any more idea of who it was than I do."

"He could have been my father though?"

"I guess, I mean it was about that time. It could have been one of my friends from school, or the guy at the grocery store that used to let me take stuff out the back way. It could have been the old rich guy who stopped sometimes to give me rides, or to take me to school. He had a bar right in his car and he used to let me drink whatever I wanted to, while he did things to me. It could have been almost anybody that I saw during that time. Don't you understand? I didn't care what they did, not as long as I could have what I wanted." She was crying, and it upset me that I had upset her. The picture she was painting for me was of a very sad and disturbed young girl. Her whole life, as near as I could tell, was one unhappiness piled on top of another.

"Tell me what you'd like to happen as far as how you want to live. Would you like to live by yourself?"

"I couldn't take care of myself. I'd be too afraid to even try. I'd like to live someplace smaller, but not with Clara or my mom. Maybe a little place, a quiet one, where they could take care of me, but where I don't have to be around so many sick people. I don't like the noise, or some of the things they have going on here. I'm scared all the time, because of all the noises."

"Are you sure you don't want to go see your mother or Clara?"

"I'm sure. I like summer the best, because it's quieter then."

"Anne, I'll try to find you someplace to live where its quieter, and where people will take care of you, but you aren't that old. Are you sure you don't want to stay in a place like this, and maybe the doctors can show you how to be able to do more things for yourself?"

"I want quiet, Kenny. I don't want to take care of myself. If you find me someplace really quiet, that would be good."

I stayed after she went back inside to eat, trying to speak with one of her doctors. They finally let me talk to her doctor, after I told them that I wasn't just her son, but I was also the individual who was responsible for paying for her care at the institution. The receptionist made a phone call to Frank Clooney, and, after he told her that I was who I said I was, they let me in to see the doctor.

The doctor tried to talk a big line of medical mumbo jumbo, using multi syllable technical words to describe all of Anne's emotional problems. When I refused to let him hide behind his jargon, he told me that Anne suffered from a number of different mental problems, and that her drinking and drug use had been a coping mechanism she had used. He wasn't hopeful that she could be treated in any manner that would result in a good probability of her returning to live in mainstream society.

She could be treated with medications to reduce some of her more self destructive behaviors. He said Anne showed decided suicidal tendencies. She was sometimes delusional, and claimed she heard voices at these times. She also claimed to have been physically abused and mistreated, repeatedly, throughout her early childhood. In numerous therapy sessions, she had consistently asserted that this abuse was from her father, mother and both her older sisters. I left his office without any real optimism about helping her mental condition, but with a firm conviction that I could help her to find a better living situation. I didn't want her going back with her mother or Aunt Clara.

When I got back, I drove over to see Aunt Clara and Mildred again. When questioned about Anne's claims of physical abuse, both of them freely admitted it. According to them, Anne was a very willful child, and, from the time she was three years old, wouldn't do anything to care for herself, not unless physically forced to do so. When she got to be thirteen years old though, she had suddenly changed, and stopped fighting them over her grooming, or other cleanliness or dressing issues. Everyone thought she was better, that puberty had corrected whatever had been causing her to be so willful and uncaring of her appearance.

Mildred surprised me by telling me that Anne had taken up golf at thirteen, and had broken par for the first time, only seven months later. She had even played in several tournaments for girls in the area, always winning for her age division. What she said next shocked me.

"We couldn't afford nothing so fancy as golfing. She got some kind of a scholarship or something from the old man that owned the big baking plant over in Bolling. I remember he was from around here though, and he had several of the kids that he sponsored to play golf. Annie took to it right away, and she became the best of them all. That lasted until she found out about boys, and started all her other foolishness. Some of those girl golfers, they make a lot of money today. I see them on the TV, and I'll bet Annie could have been as good as any of them, if she hadn't suddenly got so boy crazy."

I left there with a greater appreciation of what Anne had experienced at her family's hands, and understood some of the factors that had caused her to lead her life as she had. I learned from Aunt Clara that my head injury, at age three, had been caused by a fall from a window. Mildred even pointed at the window, and claimed I should have known better than to lean out so far that I'd fall. I was learning that being abandoned by those people might have been a really lucky break for me.

The next day, I went and called on my other aunt, Donna Richards. It was a tense and strained meeting in the beginning. She lived in a nice house, and, after I told her I was Anne's son, and what I wanted from her, she let me know that she wasn't like any of the rest of them, that she'd left all of that behind her, when she married.

She also said, as far as she was concerned, she had escaped completely now from that whole environment. She stayed on the defensive, for most of the time we were together, the first thirty minutes or so.

Mostly, it appeared that she wanted to try to distance herself as far as she could from the rest of her family, claiming that she had always been different from all the others. She told me that Anne had always been a very difficult child, getting into things she shouldn't have, and destroying other people's property. She told me that Anne had been mad at her once, and had taken all of Donna's underwear and buried it outside somewhere. No matter how much all of them did to get her to reveal where she'd buried it, she wouldn't tell them.

She told me that Clara got all the looks, Anne got all the talent, and attention, and she, being the middle child, was mostly ignored and left to her own devices. She felt fortunate to have overcome her lowly beginnings, by having made something of herself, by marrying well.

I found out that Mr. Richard's and his twin brother were grain merchants. She told me the name of their company, but it wasn't any of the ones we dealt with. When I left her, she asked me to promise that I wouldn't bring her name up with any of the other members of the family.

The only family members she was in contact with at all, were on Elizabeth's side of the family. When I told her that Elizabeth had worked for my new family, and had been my late Uncle Bunny's girlfriend, before he had died, she got more interested in finding out about me. She put two and two together quickly enough, and realized who that must mean my new parents had to be.

"Dan and Karl, my husband and his brother, are very impressed with what Tom has done since he reacquired the company. I'm not sure why we've never done business with your family before, being as how we're all from the same town. Tell your father that our prices are at least as favorable as anything that Walt Connor, or any of your other brokers can give you. And, with our family connection now established, we hope to see more of all of you."

"That might be ill advised, because I'm sure it would prove embarrassing for you if we were to do that. It would look like we were playing favorites, just because you were my aunt. We're already involved pretty heavily with both your mother, and your two sisters, financially, and people who know you from before your marriage, they would make the connection. You did tell me you wanted to keep as much distance between them and you as you could."

She gave me a look that told me she understood exactly what I was telling her. She only wanted to be associated with whatever she thought would be a benefit for her. If she was ashamed of the rest of her family, she should be ashamed of me as well.



-------

Chapter 23

I stopped off at Frank Clooney's office, after leaving my Aunt Donna's house. I told him to inform Aunt Clara that there would be no further funds coming, not to her, and not to her mother. I told Frank to find me a nice older couple in either Florida, Hawaii, or Southern California. I wanted them to be people who were both willing and able to take Anne into their home. They would need to provide her with a clean room, meals, personal grooming care, and a very quiet place for her to live. When he asked me how much he was authorized to spend for her monthly care, I told him any amount necessary, even if it came out to being equal with what we were now paying for her care at the sanitarium.

"I want this to be a nice place for her to live. Do a thorough background check on any couple you decide on. She's had a hard life, and I don't want her victimized or abused any more."

Aunt Clara called me at home a few days later, complaining about how unfair my actions were for her. I listened to her, letting her get everything off her chest before I attempted to make a reply.

"Aunt Clara, you have absolutely no legitimate complaint, and neither does your mother. I'm already taking steps to see to Anne's care. She told me that she doesn't want to see or to live with either of you. Mildred now has a much improved place to live, and, thanks to Uncle Bunny, you have your freedom from the vows you made to the Church. After hearing as much as I have, my sympathy and support will now go only to Anne."

"What am I supposed to do? I gave up everything, to come here to care for them."

"Do whatever you wanted to do before Uncle Bunny asked you to come help care for them. I told Frank to transfer ownership of the car to your name. If you don't want to stay with Mildred, I guess you'll have to go get a real job, and earn your own way."

"I'm very disappointed in you, Kenny. This isn't in keeping with the Lord's values, the ones you were taught at St. Cecelia's."

"Well, Aunt Clara, I'm sorry you feel that way. I do take some small comfort in knowing that I've provided you with an opportunity to forgive me. I remember hearing from someone that our Lord teaches forgiveness." She hung up on me. I needed to start keeping a list of all the people who wound up hanging up on me.

One night Joyce and I were working together. We were trying to decide, from all the applications we'd received, who we wanted to bring in to interview for the new executive director position for the first modular extension of the group homes we'd be building. We had already decided to open up one new modular extension each year, at least until we had a total of twenty group homes. I had decided that was about the limit of what I could successfully care for, both in terms of the personal attention I would be able to give, and the funding that I would be able to currently commit to.

We called each extension a modular one, because they would each be run as independent entities, except that they would all be under the same corporate umbrella, Kansas Communities for Children. I really believed that twenty-four kids, grouped together, was the optimum cut off point. With twenty-four, you could get to know and care for each other. Past that point, it became more difficult to feel connected, as part of an extended family, which was the sort of relationship we wanted to have fostered in our little communities. This way, while there would be one hundred twenty boys in our overall program, only twenty-four of them would be connected together, in any sort of a meaningful way.

"Kenny, the next extension after this one should be for girls." Joyce came up with this from out of nowhere. I didn't even understand what she meant for a minute.

"Girls? What about them?"

"There's plenty of girl orphans too, I'll bet. Why should all of this be only for boys?"

"Because I'm a boy. Because, when I help one of the other boys that are in situations like I was, I feel like I'm doing something to say thank you to my Uncle Bunny. The whole idea was to rescue certain kinds of boys, from orphanages, and to then try to find adoptive parents for them."

"That's another thing. Have you talked to any of the boys lately about being adopted?"

"No, but I already know that's what they want."

"Why, because that's what you wanted?"

"Because we all wanted that. We wanted to be chosen, so we'd have our own family. That's always been the goal, to find a new family, a place where you can belong."

"If that's the goal, then you've screwed up, Kenny. Most of the boys I talked to are afraid someone is going to try to take them away from the group homes now. We do have our first two adoption requests though. Jimmy and David from Henry and Dana's house."

"Already? I didn't even know we were allowing interviews for adoption yet. Have we investigated the people? Are the boys going to stay together, or will they be separated? Jimmy isn't going to want to leave his brother."

"They'll be together. Henry and Dana want to adopt them."

"They can't. House parents can't have children of their own."

"Why is that?"

"Room. No more than six children in each home. If they adopt the boys, we'll only have room for four other boys there."

"Kenny, stop for a minute and just try to listen to yourself. Henry and Dana love those boys, and the boys love them too. They've found a home, and a family that loves them. So what if there's only four other boys there? Are you worrying about the number of boys you help, or about the happiness of the boys? This is a very good thing that's happening. I'd be very surprised if some of the other house parents don't feel the same way. I know that Annabelle is scared to death that someone is going to adopt Ray, right out from under her nose."

"Having house parents adopt is a dangerous idea, Joyce. Suppose they quit, they'll take the boys with them."

"Why is that bad? When the adoption goes through, those are their sons. Of course they'll take them, and then we'll hire two new house parents, and have openings for two more boys."

It was taking me a few minutes to adjust to what she was saying. I realized with a moment of startling clarity, that I had started to feel like those were my boys, and I was very concerned about any change in their status. If I wasn't so upset by the news, I would have laughed at myself for feeling like that.

"I need to think about what you said. Maybe you're right."

"About the adoptions, or about us needing an extension for girls?"

"I don't know anything about girls, especially young ones. I wouldn't even know how to begin."

"It's pretty simple, build a new extension, just like for the boys, but instead of boys, we'll move girls in there."

"Tell me why I'd want to do it?"

"Kenny, girls who are orphans have the same hopes that boys do. It isn't fair that you only want to help boys."

"If we did that, you'd have to be in charge of it, Joyce. I could take care of some of the money part for you, but I can't see myself going to the arcade with a small pack of little girls. You'd have to be their big sister. I'm sure Mama would help."

"Do you really mean it? Mama said it would take me at least a month to talk you into it."

"Did you know Sandy has been training, and getting foster parents licensed, on the side, to take in her little kids? Do you think it will make her any less efficient in her work for us?"

"I knew. I'm surprised that you know though. To answer your other question, I don't see why it should. Besides, you were the one who gave her the idea anyway, when you told her to go open her own group homes with her own money."

"That wasn't what I meant when I said it."

"Kenny, you've been very grouchy lately. Everybody has noticed it too. You need to go out and find somebody. Quickly."

"I'm fine. If I'm grouchy, it's because things keep coming at me so quickly. The last thing I need is what you're suggesting."

"Mama says it isn't healthy for you to try to deny your nature. She says you'll get all backed up, and start making poor decisions."

"Mama likes to meddle. I'm fine. I don't need any distractions."

"Mama says you're going to turn out just like your Dad. She didn't mean it in a good way either. She meant you were going to become all business like he is, with no time for anything else."

"She should like that just fine then. If something happens to my Dad, I'm probably the one who's going to take over. She wouldn't want somebody running things who wasn't totally focused on making more money for her."

"You don't really believe that?"

"I've seen her encouraging him to do even more work than he already does."

"Because she knows he loves doing that. The same way she listens to all his business talk at dinner, and encourages him to be more important and influential in the business community. She does that to make him happy, not to make money off of him."

"Believe that if you want to, Joyce, but I've seen and heard some of their fights. Even Uncle Bunny admitted that they put up with Dad for years, just because he was such a good earner for them. They even threatened to fire him, and Mama was going to divorce him, so that he couldn't collect some money that they would have owed him if they sold their company."

"This is why you're suspicious of her motives for thinking you should go out and find a girl for sex?"

"No, I'm not suspicious of her motives for that. I meant for her pretending to be concerned that I'll end up like Dad, working all the time. She encourages that in him."

"Have you changed your mind about me?" I knew what she meant as soon as she said it. I had been expecting it. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"No. You're still my sister, Joyce. We've already had to go through this once, and it was pretty painful, as I remember it."

"I remember too, but I'm getting bigger now. I grew a whole inch already, and my chest is bigger too. You told me yourself that things are always changing. I was just asking, that's all. "

"I told you back when it happened, Joyce, you had to make a choice. You can't wait a month or so, and then ask me if my mind has changed. It hasn't changed, and its not likely to change either."

"You aren't my brother. I don't want another brother. Even Mama said I'd be better for you than any of those other girls."

"Did she say that before, or after, the last time?"

"She tells me that all the time, because it's true."

"It isn't true. It isn't ever going to be true. If you keep after me about this, I'm not going to be able to work with you anymore. There's a million guys out there, Joyce, pick one, and then have Mama help you get him."

"Do you think I'd need her help to get someone?" I looked at her. I hadn't paid much attention lately. Her hair was longer, and it had been professionally styled. Her clothes were nicer, and she was starting to grow and develop. When I looked at her now, she didn't look eleven or twelve. Now, she looked about twelve and a half.

"No, you could get someone by yourself, but not someone as old as I am yet. Maybe you could get yourself a fifteen year old. Want me to set you up with Gary Carstairs?"

"Kenny, we should make a bet. I bet I can get a date with someone my age, or older. If I do, you have to take me out on a date right after. A real date."

"What's a real date?"

"Dinner and a movie."

"I'd take you out to dinner and a movie already. As my sister."

"Afraid you'll lose?"

"Joyce, it won't work. All you can hope for with this is that Mama will give you my room after I've moved out. You can wait until next September, and get it anyway."

"I understand now. You're afraid to back up your opinions with a bet."

"Have it your way. No bet. Are you going to start calling me names now, like the kids at the playgrounds?"

"No. I'm glad you didn't really believe what you said. In a few more months, I'm going to be even better looking. I already stopped using that special bra Mama got for me. Mama says I'm going to have my pick of men. You'll be just as sorry when that happens, as you are now, finding out about the boys being adopted."

"I'm not sorry about that, it just surprised me, that's all. I'm happy for them. If you remember, it was me that said I want them to be adopted. Why would I be sorry?"

"Have it your way. When I start dating, you'll get jealous. You'll be wondering if I'm letting them do everything I let you do to me."

"It isn't going to work, Joyce. If I was at all concerned, it would only be a brotherly concern, and only then, because I would be afraid the guy might hurt you in some way."

After she left my room, I dismissed her ridiculous assertions. She knew I had been without sex for awhile, and she was trying to see if I had reached a point where my good judgment was impaired. I made it a point not to touch myself that way in the shower that night. Mama and Joyce were right about one thing, I was getting a little tense and grouchy. I thought there were other reasons for my irritability, but they could be correct.

I had a four day holiday coming up in another week, for one of the President's birthdays, either Lincoln or Washington. We got off a day for that, then another day because the teacher's were having an end of quarter conference that Friday. I was getting restless and felt like doing something. Maybe I'd go off somewhere, by myself, to a resort or something, and see if I could find someone else looking for a quick encounter.

I wondered if Hans and Gerta had heard from Bea since she had moved out of the house with Aunt Clara. When I slept that night, I had weird dreams. I was at a group home for girls, and all of them looked like girls I'd had sex with before. The only difference was that all of them were younger than they looked now, maybe thirteen or fourteen. Bea was there, and so was Brenda and Emily. I was surprised that Joyce was there too. She was the only one who looked just like she did now. I kept looking for Shirley, but for some reason, she wasn't there. Towards the end, the dream got progressively weirder. I woke up, needing a drink of water, and the light on in my bathroom so that I could see that it had only been a silly dream. It stuck with me though, preying on my mind. I couldn't stop thinking back to it. Most of my dreams ended and were quickly forgotten, but not this one. This one began to seem more like a strange vision of the paths opened to me. It was disturbing to me on several different levels. I knew it was affecting me, much more than any other dreams ever had.

-------

Frank Clooney had located what he thought was a good situation, for Anne Coulter, in San Diego, California. There was a retired Navy Captain and his wife that already had their own "special needs" daughter. They had advertised, in some medical journal, their willingness to provide live in care for another "special needs" woman. According to Frank, money hadn't been their primary motivation for placing the ad. They were hoping to find a friend and companion for their daughter.

Frank had contacted the couple, and was very satisfied, from this conversation, and from a routine check of their background, that they were stable and sincere people. There were qualifications, they had insisted that we all meet before they would agree to accept Anne. They wanted an opportunity to meet Anne first, and they wanted to interview, over the phone, her doctors at the institution. They were candid in stating their purpose for doing this. They were seeking to determine if Anne's problems could present any possible dangers, to their daughter, or to themselves.

Frank said they were mainly concerned about whether she had ever played with fire, or if she had displayed any violent behaviors in her past institutional history. I asked him about it and he assured me that the answer to both questions was she had not. They had taken in a previous girl who had set several fires in their home, and who had threatened the man with a pair of scissors after he confronted her for her fire setting.

I told Frank I also wanted to meet with the couple and their daughter, preferably at their home. I told him to call the mental hospital and authorize Anne's doctors to speak honestly and openly to the man and to his wife. I also asked that he find out how much trouble it would be for me to sign Anne out for a few days, to make a trip out to California.

Frank called back to confirm that the hospital had promised full cooperation on the phone calls, although we'd be billed for the doctor's time spent on the phone, and that there was no problem with taking Anne out for a placement interview, as long as they were notified forty-eight hours in advance. One problem was that I needed to have an adult with me, in order to check her out.

I went to my father that evening, after dinner to tell him what I had in mind. Mama had an aversion to being involved with anything having to do with Anne. She had been very upset with me once, when I had referred to Anne as my mother. I asked him if it would be possible for me to borrow the use of the company plane for a few days, and I told him what I needed it for.

"Kenny, this is a large responsibility you're thinking about taking on. Are you certain that this is something you're prepared to follow through with?"

I told him what I had discovered, about how frightened Anne had been at the prospect of being forced to move back into her mother's house. I detailed some of the abuse she'd suffered in early childhood, at her own family's hands.

"I've already cut off any new funds going to Mildred and Aunt Clara. I did that because I didn't think either of them deserved our support, not after what they did to Anne."

"Your mother isn't going to be happy knowing that you've taken over for Bunny in this regard. She wasn't happy with Bunny when he underwrote all those costs."

"She should know I'm not doing this out of any love for Anne. I'm doing it for my own peace of mind. If I know she's somewhere nice, and she isn't being abused, I won't have to worry about her."

"You may use the plane, but I wouldn't volunteer a lot of information about this to your mother, not until after this situation is already fully resolved. Maybe not even then. Did you need me to go with you, to be that adult presence you mentioned you needed?"

"Frank said any adult. I thought I'd ask Hans to fly up to the hospital with me, for when I pick her up. We'll come back here, drop him off, and then fly out to California."

"What about your school? Do you need me to write a note, to get you excused from classes?"

"I've got a four day break coming up. I should be able to get it done in that time. They just want to meet her, to see if she fits in with their daughter, and won't be too big a headache to them."

"Very well. If anything happens, I'll expect you to phone me right away. If you need help with your mother, after, well, just try not to need help with her about this." Dad was getting a lot smarter in his old age. He had almost volunteered to get in between Mama and me if she got angry about me helping Anne this way. I smiled at him, and he nodded.

Perhaps he was embarrassed about that, because he lowered his head, getting back to his reading. I saw it was a juicy report on a new type of roller that caused less skidding when moving across an uneven surface. I didn't understand how he could spend hour after hour reading everything he could get his hands on that had anything at all to do with the food industry. Didn't he know that he had plenty of people on the payroll that he was paying well, that should do that for him? In any case, I knew I was being dismissed, so I left.



-------

Chapter 24

When I got done with talking to my Dad, about borrowing the plane, I went right up to my room and called Emily. This was the second, and the most difficult part of the plan I'd been hatching in my mind. I doubted I'd be able to pull this off, but I wanted to try it, because it might help with something else that I wanted to have happen. What I was really hoping for was that Emily would realize that my calling her with this had constituted that much improved offer that she'd warned me I needed to make if I ever called her again.

"Hi, it's me. Would you like to fly out to California with me, next Thursday? We'd be back in time for school on the following Monday."

"Well, this is a different tactic. Of course, you know they'd never let me go away with you. Why are you going to California?" I could tell from her first response, that she wanted to talk to me too. No matter what happened with my other idea, my plan was already a success. I was surprised at my physical reaction, and the relief I felt at learning this.

"There are three reasons I'm going. The least important reason is because I need a break from everything. I'm tired, and I've been feeling a lot of stress lately. The next reason is that I need to take someone out there to meet some people. The most important reason, is the one I'm on the phone trying to make happen now. I'm trying to get back with my girlfriend, and I was hoping this would be enough to show her that I've changed."

"Who are you taking to California?"

"Anne Coulter, she's the woman who was my birth mother."

"Your real mom?"

"No. My real mom is the one I have now. She's only the woman who brought me into this world, she later abandoned me."

"So, why are you the one taking her to California?"

"First, because I've assumed responsibility for her. Second, because she needs to let some people meet her, to see if they'll let her live with them. Third, it's nice and warm in California right now, at least compared to here, The newspaper said the high temperature in San Diego, California, yesterday, was seventy four degrees."

"Is that where you're going, San Diego?"

"That's where I hope we're going, but that's only our first stop. I wanted to fly to San Diego on Thursday, then spend Thursday and Friday, visiting with the Webb's. That's the name of the family we're taking Anne to. I thought we'd leave San Diego early Saturday morning to drive up to Los Angeles, so we could go to Disneyland. We could spend the night in Los Angeles, then drive back to San Diego on Sunday morning. If we leave San Diego by noon, we should be back here in plenty of time to get some sleep, and be back in school on Monday."

"Did you ask anybody else before me?"

"I didn't even think of asking anybody else before you."

"You didn't? Really?"

"Why would I? You're the only girlfriend I have that I want to get back with."

"What about Shirley?"

"Shirley is in South Carolina. She's a memory to me. If she came out here right now, and I had to choose between you and her, I'd choose you, Em."

"Do you love me?"

"I don't know. I miss you. I think about you a lot. When I've got my hand on my dick, it's you that I'm thinking about while I'm doing it."

"I can't go to California with you. I wish I could, but they'd never let me. You know, you could have really swept me off my feet, and gotten anything you wanted, if you'd told me that you loved me." She sounded disappointed, and I could see that we were preparing to go down another dark road that would lead to yet another disappointment for us.

"When I do tell you that, you'll know that I mean it. I'd never say that to you unless it was true and I was sure. Before you ask your parents, put your father on the phone for a minute. I need to ask him a few questions."

"Kenny, you aren't going to ask him if he's your father are you?"

"No. He's already been asked that. He doesn't know if he is or he isn't, only that he could be. Go get him, and put him on the phone."

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Carstairs. This is Kenny Parsons, Emily's boyfriend."

"You two made up again?"

"Yes sir, well at least we're trying to make up, but, I need a big favor from you."

"Well, I'll help if I can."

"Good. I'm taking Anne Coulter to California on Thursday, to put her in a "special needs" home in San Diego. I don't know if you remember Anne, she was my birth mother?" He didn't try to interrupt, me or to say anything when I mentioned her name. "Anyway, the favor I need is because I've asked Emily to fly out there with me. I wanted to speak with you before Emily asks if she can go with me. I really need you to give Emily permission to go with us. I'd appreciate it if you'd allow her to go. It will only be for four days."

"That is completely out of the question. I won't let her go, and I won't allow you to blackmail me, if that was your intent."

"I wouldn't even think of blackmailing you, Mr. Carstairs. I think I'd much rather just sue you in an open court instead. Imagine what a story that would make? A famous author, one who used to be a teacher, and a fifteen year old student he took advantage of? Now, eighteen years later, she's still suffering from the mental and emotional anguish of that assault. Maybe they'll ask you to write the script for the TV movie I'm sure they'll want to make. Who do you see playing my part?" I wasn't sure why I had suddenly gotten so angry with him. By Anne's account, he had only been one of many. Maybe it was him saying I was trying to blackmail him.

"You wouldn't do that? Even if you would, I'm not sacrificing her innocence just to save myself from some embarrassment."

"Some embarrassment? I don't think so. I'm sure the jury would come back with a big award for both Anne and me. Probably the cost for keeping her in an institution for the rest of her life would take more money than you now have. I don't know why you're so worried about Emily anyway, or about her supposed innocence. She's older than Anne was when you ravished her innocence. It isn't like Emily and I haven't already had sex together anyway. What else was there you were trying to protect her from? We'll need to leave next Thursday, early. Maybe it would be better if she came over to my house, on Wednesday night, and we could all leave together, from here?"

"Would there be a responsible adult going along to chaperon?" He had given in a lot easier than I thought he would. I'm sure he had worrisome thoughts for years, knowing something like this might come up, to spoil his reputation. He hadn't put up that much of a struggle. The question about the chaperon was just so he could save face.

"Yes, my Uncle Hans will be flying with us when we leave to go pick Anne up. You're welcome to come with us as well. I'm sure she'd be interested in seeing you again."

"I have other, pressing, commitments I'm afraid. As long as an adult will be present with you, I see no reason why Emily can't accompany you. She'll be back in time for school though, right? I wouldn't sanction this trip if it meant she'd fall behind in her studies. Have your mother call me to confirm an adult will accompany you on this trip."

"I'll have my father call, it's his plane, and he's the one who approved this trip."

"You have a plane? I thought you meant a commercial flight. I don't know about a private plane, aren't they risky?"

"No, in fact, they're safer than commercial airlines in some respects. At least we don't have to worry about being hijacked and taken to Cuba. We have professional pilots who have up to date certificates of proficiency and competence. She'll be safe with me. I wouldn't let anything bad to happen to her."

I went back downstairs after Mr. Carstairs said goodbye. He hung up before I could ask him to put Emily back on with me. I had my Dad call him and confirm that Hans would be on the flight to pick up Anne, and that a responsible adult would be with us for both legs of the flight. Dad meant the pilot when he said that. When Dad told me that Emily wanted to speak with me, I told him to tell her to hang up and I'd call her from my room in a minute. After he got off the phone, Dad warned me about playing with the truth.

"He's only using the chaperon thing as a face saving thing to tell his wife. The only reason he agreed to let her go with me was because I threatened to sue him in open court for back child support, and on Anne's behalf."

"Did you? Would you have gone through with that threat if he hadn't given you your way?"

"I wouldn't have been bothered a bit by doing that to him. I might not have done it though, if it would have bothered Emily too much. What he did to Anne wasn't right, and he has some nerve trying to pretend like he's such a righteous parent, and I'm scum for wanting to have sex with his daughter."

"Since you raised that subject yourself, Kenny, I have a question I'd like to put to you. Have you considered the very real possibility that Emily might be your half sister,?"

"I don't think its very likely. She was adopted, and so was her brother, Gary. She told me that before we did much of anything together. She and Gary aren't even brother and sister, not by blood."

"Well, that's a large worry you've taken off my mind. I wish you'd informed your mother and I of this earlier. It caused both of us many hours of concern."

As soon as I left him, I ran up the stairs and dialed Emily's number again. My one remaining concern was that she would decide to be really mad at me for what I'd said to her father. I justified my actions in obtaining her father's permission by telling myself it didn't really matter. Her father was worried about something happening, but that had already happened. Perhaps my telling him had been wrong, but I wasn't ashamed or sorry about having done so. I wasn't sure how Emily would feel about it.

"You did it! He said I can go. He's in the kitchen being yelled at by my mother. She'll yell and scream at him, but she always gives in to him in the end anyway. He told me that I'm supposed to spend the night at your house on Wednesday. Where will I sleep?"

"I'm not sure. I know, you can sleep downstairs in Bea's old bedroom, or you and Joyce could have one of those sleepover things, where you both stay up all night and talk about all the cute boys you knew in school. Don't worry though, we'll find someplace to put you."

"I was thinking about sleeping in your bed. Daddy told me what you said about my innocence. He wasn't happy about it. You shouldn't have said anything to him. That was private."

"Private? I had to tell him that so he'd know he wasn't keeping us from fucking just because he said you couldn't go on this trip with me. You want to sleep with me, huh? Aren't you afraid we'll be so tired we'll miss the plane? That would really spoil the trip."

"Tell me again what we're going to be doing. Start right from the very beginning."

"We're going to be flying over to pick up Anne."

"No, before that. Tell me again about the part where you first got this idea, and what you were thinking about."

"You mean the part where I was trying to think of a way to get back with my girlfriend, and about realizing how much I was missing her?"

"Yes, that part. Am I really your girlfriend now?"

"I hope so, but you have a say in it too. I'd like it if you were."

"What did you miss the most about me?"

"That's a tough one, because there were a lot of things I missed. I missed being able to call you and talk to you. Even though we couldn't get things worked out, I still wanted to hear your voice. When you told me not to call you anymore, it really bothered me. It made me think about a lot of things, and it forced me to think about what you really meant to me, and about how I'd treated you when we were together. I've been grouchy to everybody since you told me not to call you. They think it was because I hadn't been having sex, but I knew that wasn't the main reason. I've been mad at myself ever since I figured out how things must have seemed to you. I wanted to call you a hundred times and tell you that things weren't really the way I made them seem. I didn't know what I could say to make you believe I really was sorry, and that I wished I'd been nicer to you, and had treated you better."

"You didn't miss the sex?"

"I never said that. What I said was it wasn't the sex that I missed the most, it was not having any access to you, not being able to see you, talk with you, or touch you. The sex is just a part of all of that."

"Maybe it is for you, but I really missed that the most. I almost called you a bunch of times too. I've been so worried that you'd decide to forget about me and never call again. I knew how easy it would be for you to go out and find someone else, someone you could like better than me."

"Do you really think so? Do you have some names you'd like to share with me?"

"Don't you dare spoil this for me. I've waited too long, and worried too much, that this moment wouldn't ever come. Let me enjoy it, all right?"

"What I meant to say was I didn't want anyone else, and that I never even thought of going out to find someone to replace you. That's strange too, because I always have done it that way before. This time, I knew right away that I needed to be alone. I had to try to figure out what I could do, to make sure I wouldn't get in another situation like the one we were in. I knew it was important that I make some changes in the way I was thinking, and in the way I presented myself to you. It made me spend time thinking about my hopes for us."

"Can you stop right there? I'm so nervous that one of us is going to say something else, something that will make this end up like all those other phone calls. I'd like to go to bed tonight, still feeling very good about talking to you again."

"All right. I'll say goodnight then. We just need to spend some time together, when we aren't fighting about things. I know what you mean though. I'm afraid I'll say something that will upset you. I don't want to, but we need to find some better way of dealing with it when it happens."

"Goodnight, Kenny. You can call me anytime. In case you were still wondering about it, I never let anybody else but you touch me, not since that time with Don Featherstone, at the dance. I was so upset when you didn't call me, I asked my mother to say I had spent the night at a friend's house, when you called, because I knew if she said that, you'd think I was with Brenda."

I got up off my bed, after we got off the phone, and went into the bathroom, to wash my face before going to sleep. When I looked in the mirror, I saw the reflection of a very relieved and happy young man. It hadn't been easy for me to say what I had to Emily, or to her father. I knew it had been the right thing to do with Emily, but I was somewhat afraid that what I'd said to her father would cause me future difficulties.

In bed, I let my mind race through some scenarios where I could convince Emily to spend the next day with me, over at Uncle Bunny's house. I fell asleep, unable to make a choice between the two best possibilities I'd come up with.

At seven thirty the next morning, my phone's insistent ringing woke me up. It was Hans calling from the kitchen, to tell me that Emily was downstairs, waiting for me. I asked him to put her on the line with me.

"Hi, Em, this is a pleasent surprise. It's only seven thirty on a chilly Saturday morning. I was going to call you as soon as I woke up and had some breakfast."

"You want me to come up there and help you wake up?"

"Sure, do you want me to get dressed first?"

"No, it would be a waste of time if you did that. Is that big bolt locked on your door?"

"Yes."

"Unlock it, and then get back in the bed. When I get there, you better be naked, and have something all hard and ready for me to sit on." I heard Hans cackling in the background as she spoke. I knew she'd made his day a lot better by that last comment of hers.

"Yes ma'am. I'm already prepared for the last part of your request. You need to hurry up though, or else I'm going to start without you."

I ran to my door and unlocked it, before running back to my bed. I took my briefs down and jumped under the covers and waited. She didn't keep me waiting long. After she had come inside and re-bolted the door, she hurried over to me and stood near my bed, just looking at my face.

"I was kidding about that, Kenny. You need to get up and get dressed. My mother wants to take us both over to the club for breakfast and a talk. She's waiting outside in her car."

She stood there, smiling, and waiting for me to get up, so she could find out for sure if I'd followed all her instructions. I'd never been shy around Emily, and when I threw off my covers, she immediately dove on top of me, putting the head of my dick into her mouth.

I thought she'd only been kidding about her mother waiting downstairs, especially after she started to do that. After I came, it turned out that she hadn't been kidding. I got a very nice blow job out of it though. After she was done, she insisted that I kiss her.

"If I'm going to go downstairs with cum on my breath, Kenny so are you. Come on, get dressed, my mom doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"She really is outside waiting?"

"I told you so, didn't I? Hurry up."

I went into the closet to get some clothes before making it into the bathroom to dress, brush my teeth, comb my hair, and wash my face. When I came back out, Emily had left my room, and was downstairs, talking with Mama and Joyce. I joined them, listening as Emily was telling them about my surprise phone call from the night before. When I got down to them, she was talking about how excited she was to be going to California with me next week. From the arch forming in my mother's eyebrow as she looked at me, I knew I'd have to do some fast talking when I came back home again.

From the expression on Joyce's face, I decided I wouldn't be touching any food in the house, not until after I'd personally seen Mama and Dad eat it first. I doubted Joyce was mad enough at me to want to poison them also. To make it even worse, I discovered why Emily was using her hands so much while she was talking to them. Right there, firmly in place on her ring finger, was the little diamond ring I had given to her some months before.

We got out of the house, only after I had reminded Emily, for at least the fifth time, that her mother was outside waiting for us. I greeted Mrs. Carstairs, when I was opening the door for us, and waiting for Emily to slide over to the middle of the seat.

"Sorry it took so long, Mom, Joyce and Kenny's mom were so excited about my news. They kept asking me questions, and I didn't want to be rude."

"That's fine, dear. Breakfast is served until ten. So Ken, tell me more about this little trip you're planning. From what I've been hearing, it sounds very exciting."

"Well, it's only a short trip, and I only thought of it because we had to go out to California anyway. I thought we could combine some pleasure, along with the business, and I asked Em if she wanted to join us."

"Jerry and Emily were both a little vague as to exactly who would be going. I think I understood Jerry to say it was an uncle of yours, and another woman. Is she a friend of your uncle's?"

"She's actually a member of my family, and Uncle Hans and I needed to go pick her up for the flight out to California. She's planning to relocate, and she wanted to find out if San Diego was a quiet enough place for her to enjoy spending her time there."

"I see. Is she elderly?"

"She isn't elderly, but she hasn't been very active for some years now, and she thinks a change of scenery might help her to be happier. She had a little bit of a drinking problem, but she seems to be handling that fine right now."

Drinking problem? Well, I suppose most families have someone that overindulges at times. I know that's true in my own family. Jerry didn't say anything specific about the sleeping accommodations, or where you'll be staying. Are you sure there will be a room for Emily?"

"We haven't booked our rooms yet. We do it through our companies, but I'm sure they will be nice. I'm sure Emily's room will be nice, every bit the equal of mine."

"That leads me to my next question. I find it disquieting that Jerry has agreed to send her off with you like this. Can you tell me what you told him to get him to agree to allow it?" I was quickly getting the feeling that she was only toying with me. She was probably getting me to talk to her, with the idea of catching me out in a lie or something. I knew I had to do something different, to find a way to turn this all around again, if I wanted Emily to come with me on the trip.

"I'm famous around my house for my persuasive skills, Mrs. Carstairs, but, I think it was my Dad who finally convinced him when they spoke together. I wasn't privy to all their conversation, but it was probably something along the lines of 'Jerry, they're already screwing each other every chance they get. What are they going to get up to in California, that they already couldn't do right here?' I think that's probably pretty close to what he said."

"I see, and, was your father being accurate, when he said that?"

"I think that was a slight exaggeration, but, I think he just wanted to convey to Mr. Carstairs, the information that Em and I have been on intimate terms for some time now." I felt Emily's elbow in my side, but I'd been prepared for it.

"You are a remarkably frank young man, Ken. Are you not concerned, in the least, that this frankness might offend me?"

"Mrs. Carstairs, I know you are intelligent. I've spoken to you on several occasions. Being intelligent, you cannot have helped but to have noticed the many times Em has waltzed back home, after spending a few hours with me, bathed in that unmistakable glow of a woman well satisfied. I'm certain you would also recognize what must have taken place, to have created such a glow as that. I won't insult that intelligence by pretending that we haven't been intimate on many, many, previous occasions. By the way, I'm sure you'll be happy to learn that our Emily is really a very hot little number. I'm sure she must have gotten that from your side of the family." By now, I was holding both of Emily's arms, with a leg thrown over her lap, and shouting to be heard over her screams for me to shut up.

Mrs. Carstairs had slammed on the brakes halfway up the driveway to the country club. Her face was beet red, as she shouted for me to get out of her car. I remained where I was seated. First, because there was absolutely no way I was letting go of Emily, not when she was this upset, and second, because I was fairly certain that Mrs. Carstairs was only posturing for me, while trying to find a way to reassert some control over a situation that had, quite obviously, gotten away from her.

"If you're worried about Em's reputation, then you can join us on the trip. There's plenty of room on the plane, and that way, Uncle Hans could stay at home with my Aunt Gerta. He isn't that big a fan of flying anyway. Bring Gary along too, if you want to. He has to sleep in your room though, not Em's and mine."

I could see, by the reactions on both their faces, that my invitation had shocked them both. Emily looked extremely unhappy, but her mother just seemed to be more confused by my offer to her.

"Are you serious? I hope you don't think I'm going to allow Emily to travel anywhere with you, not after what you've just got finished saying to me?"

"Why wouldn't you? Did you seriously think she and I would be doing all this fighting with each other if we weren't already having sex? What else are you afraid would happen?"

"I don't allow my mind to dwell on the type of sordid thoughts you've been expressing today."

"Em must get her lusty, almost insatiable, nature from Mr. Carstairs then."

"She's adopted, you cretin! Shut up for a minute and just let me think. You're certain that Jerry has been made aware of the intimate nature of your relationship with Emily?"

"Calling me a cretin only insults you for doing it. To answer your question though, he almost has to know. I told him we were having sex myself."

"You really are overdoing this vulgar persona you seem to have adopted with me. You can stop it right now. There's no reason we can't have a calm and rational discussion about this trip."

"Perhaps, but I often react this way, especially when I suspect that people I'm speaking with believe they are toying with me. It is a long time failing of mine. I'm trying to do better, really."

"Very well. I can accept that rebuke for my earlier behavior towards you, but what has Emily done to deserve being humiliated like this?"

"You'll have to ask her about that. I'm sure she isn't humiliated by this though. Angry, oh yes, she's angry all right, but she has no reason to be humiliated. I already knew she was adopted, I was joking with you about that."

Mrs. Carstairs restarted the car. She'd turned off the ignition key after she had slammed on her brakes. She put it back in gear and drove up into the lot to park. Emily had stopped struggling with me. I'd removed my leg, and my weight, from her lap, but I still had a firm hold on both her wrists. I still remembered the damage she could cause with her nails. After we had parked, it took me and her mother five minutes to convince Emily to get out of the car and to come eat with us.

"Em, if you don't come with us in the next ten seconds, I'm going to leave you home, and take Gary in your place."

"You wouldn't do that. You can't fuck him." She was really mad at me. I doubt she'd ever said fuck in front of either one of her parents before.

"Wouldn't be the first time I swallowed another guy's jizz because you were mad at me."

She looked at me, not believing I'd say something like that, not with her mother right there, able to hear us talking. At last, either what I'd just said, or my earlier threat about taking Gary and leaving her home, made her decide to get out of the car. She moved over past her mother as we walked to the club's back entrance. She wanted to keep a good separation between us.

"Why are you so mad at Emily? You never told me."

"And I'm not going to. Emily knows why I'm angry."

"Is it the ring?" Emily looked around her mother as she asked me that. She knew it was the ring, and more than just the ring. It was the way she put it on, and then deliberately waved it in front of Joyce's eyes, while she spoke to Mama and Joyce about what I told her during our phone call, and the California trip.

It was that, and it was her coming over unexpectedly with her mother, without giving me time to think and prepare first. She could have called to warn me. I still hated to be caught off guard, when people I trusted could have warned me. Mostly though, it was that damn ring, and the trouble it was going to cause for me at home.

"You know what it is. You deliberately provoked Joyce, and made her feel bad. Usually, when we get back together, we get to make love a few times at least, before we fight and split up again. You could have waited for a week at least. This time all I got was one very quick blow job."

"You can say whatever you want with my family, but I can't say anything to your mother and that ugly little dwarf?"

"Em, that was a very cruel thing to call her, and it isn't even true. You didn't need to do what you did to her. Wasn't it enough that you got what you wanted?"

"I wanted her to know that I could hurt her too. She hurt me first. Why are you taking her side. I'm your girlfriend, not her."

"That could change, and pretty damn quick too, if you don't stop using this power you seem to think this situation has suddenly given you. This attitude isn't what I was expecting when I called you again."

"You gave me the ring. You never said I couldn't wear it if I wanted to. I've been wearing it ever since I told you not to call me anymore."

"I didn't say you shouldn't wear it. I said you shouldn't use it, or anything else, to hurt people, just because they happen to care for me."

"You don't care if I wear it?"

"It's only a ring from a pawnshop, Em. I told you that before I even gave it to you. I said that before I even bought it, that you could pretend it was an engagement ring, with your friends. I never thought you'd use it to hurt Joyce, or to scare my mother though."

"Why shouldn't she be scared too, Ken? How do you think my husband and I feel, seeing our sixteen year old daughter dragging herself around the house, crying every five minutes, and looking at that stupid ring on her finger?"

"Mom! I didn't do that."

"You certainly did do that, and a lot more. How many other girls spend half of every day, praying out loud to a telephone, or begging it to make itself ring?"

"She's lying, Kenny. None of that ever happened."

By now, we were seated at a table in the dining room, looking at the day's typed breakfast menu. I ordered eggs Benedict and a side of bacon. Emily had the fruit cocktail and Mrs. Carstairs ordered black coffee, some cognac, and four aspirins.

"I give my parents headaches too." I smiled at her, hoping she would see this as me being conciliatory, now that I'd managed to pay Emily back for what she'd done at my house.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" She smiled as she said it too, showing she wasn't as serious as before.

"So, are we all going to have a good time at Disneyland, or what?" I looked at each of them in turn. "You coming with us really would make things easier, and I bet Gary would like going to Disneyland too."

"We've been to Disneyland before." Emily wasn't catching on to the conciliatory spirit yet.

"Well. I haven't, and I heard it was lots of fun. You don't have to come. I just thought you'd want to. It was seventy five degrees in Anaheim yesterday. That's where Disneyland is. Did you know Los Angeles is really made up of a lot of smaller cities? I never knew that until I started reading about it. Like Hollywood. Its in Los Angeles, but it is a city too. There's one called Pico Rivera too, and Azusa. That came from the saying 'everything from A to Z in the USA'. A-Z-U-S-A. Pretty catchy don't you think?"

"If, as you say, Ken, you and Emily are already on intimate terms, wouldn't it be possible for us to make other, less compromising, sleeping arrangements?" Mrs. Carstairs was really considering going with us.

"I wouldn't mind bunking in with you, Mrs, Carstairs, but Mr. Carstairs might not like it too much. I'm not sleeping with Gary though, and that's final."

"Suppose I promise to take Gary away on little trips with me, just for a few hours every day? Would that be satisfactory with you?"

"Is all of this because you don't want Gary to know about Em and I? Are you afraid his knowing about us would have him thinking salacious thoughts himself, Mrs. Carstairs? If that's what it is, you're way too late for that. Gary already generates his own salacious thoughts."

"I'm thinking about Emily's reputation, Ken."

"Her reputation has nothing to do with this. I've already told you what we do. What difference does it make that's its a hotel room in SanDiego instead of my bedroom at home? This trip is supposed to be part of our making-up. To make-up properly, we're going to both want lots of make-up sex, and I don't want to miss a minute of it. There is no good reason for you to try to keep us separate on this trip. She really is a tiger in the rack. You should see what she did to my back and my arms once. I have to hold her down now, just to protect myself. My mother almost called the police on her when it happened."

"Kenny! Please, please, stop it. She's not going to let me go if you keep on talking like that."

"Was I lying about any of it?"

"Please?"

"Okay, I'm done. No more. This eggs Benedict is really very good. I thought my Aunt Gerta made good eggs Benedict, but these are really excellent. The sauce is delicious." I grabbed my teaspoon, put some of the sauce on it and offered it to first Mrs. Carstairs, and then, after, to Emily. Em's mother said she thought it was excellent too, but Emily said it wasn't that hot. "That's because you didn't brush your teeth like I did." She laughed, but she was looking over at her mother to see if she was reacting to what I'd said in any way. She wasn't.

"I accept your generous offer, Ken, on behalf of both Gary and myself. You said, earlier, that our being there would make things easier. Was that in reference to your uncle's aversion to flying?"

"That plus, with you there, we can rent cars a lot easier. Uncle Hans doesn't like waiting in lines either. In fact, he hates it. I'll need your driver's license information to give to the lady who does the travel booking for us. There will probably be either two or three two bedroom suites, one for you and Gary, one for Em and I, and the other for Anne, in case she decides not to stay where she's going to be visiting."

"You said that this Anne is a relative, a part of your family, but you never described your relationship."

"She was around a lot when I was really little, but I didn't see her for a long time, and then I've only seen her a couple of times since. She's my cousin Elizabeth's first cousin on her mother's side. I'm not sure she's even related to anyone else besides my Aunt Clara and Elizabeth. I've been told we're related, but you couldn't prove it as far as my memory goes. Aunt Clara says we are, and I've known her all my life, so I guess it's true."

"You are really good at misdirecting, without actually having to resort to an outright lie. I'm very impressed with that. Jerry told me who Anne was, and I already knew about that sordid little episode in his past, even before I married him. I must say though, you look absolutely nothing like Jerry."

"Thank you."

"For complimenting you on your misdirecting abilities, or for saying you look nothing like Jerry?"

"Both, I think."

"So, are we agreed?" She looked at me when she said it. She was paying no attention to what Emily's facial expressions were communicating.

"Absolutely. I'm really looking forward to having a good time in California. Perhaps it will give us a chance to find out more about each other." I watched Emily sighing in resignation over our agreement to have her mother and Gary joining us.

The waiter brought the check for breakfast to me, and I signed for it. Em's mom made a halfhearted attempt to wrest it away from me, but I told her we needed the charges to maintain the membership as a business tax write off.

"I've been told that you have become wealthy in your own right, Ken. Is that accurate?" We were walking back to her car when she asked me that. It came pretty suddenly, and, again, I wasn't expecting it.

"I suppose so. Most of it is held in trusts for me, so I don't have access to a lot of money right now. Don't worry though, the trip isn't a problem. I have an expense account at the company. They pay for everything."

"I heard that your uncle left you more than a hundred million dollars. Can that be right?"

"I never really counted all of it. We keep it in big barrels, and we just open up one at a time, and then take out whatever we need."

"You're doing it again." Mrs. Carstairs had paused, before turning the key in the ignition, to tell me that. This time, she didn't seem upset by it. Like other curious people in Ridgeline, the Carstairs had probably gone to the county courthouse and paid five or six dollars for a copy of Uncle Bunny's will. From a document like that, it was only possible for people to make very rough estimates of the value of what my Uncle had left me. Quite a few of the trusts passed to me outside of probate too, so no official valuation was available to the public. They could find out if they wanted to really dig for it, but I doubted anyone had.

"Not yet, but we probably will be though, right after you drop us off at my house." I had to take Emily's hands again before I said that. We drove out to the main road and turned towards my house. I was surprised that Mrs. Carstairs had revealed so much about her interest in my being wealthy. I hadn't ever gotten too much interest or conversation about it from Emily. She didn't seem impressed by it at all. Brenda had told me that the Carstairs family probably were richer than our family. If that was true, why was Mrs. Carstairs bothering to discuss finances with me?

"I'm not going back into that house with you, Kenny." I could tell Emily's protest wasn't too firm. I knew she wanted me to talk her into it. In the last hour or so, I had pushed her quite a bit. All along the way though, she had been getting in shots of her own, or closer to the trip with me that she wanted. Having both her parents know that she was sexually active with me hadn't caused her any major problems yet either. I decided to push her a little more.

"I'll let you reach into one of the barrels if you do." This time Em's mother laughed out loud. Emily didn't like my comment though.

"You aren't very funny, Kenny." She hadn't been resisting me holding her hands for awhile, but she started trying to free herself again.

"Both hands at once?" I said this mostly to get another laugh from Em's mother. I knew it wasn't going to make Emily laugh.

"Fuck you!" She got in a kick at my leg, right before I remembered to put my other leg back in her lap again. Em was strong, and she had no fear when she was angry.

"Now you're talking!" I got slapped hard on my arm, when she managed to pull one hand free, just as we came to a stop in my driveway. I released her quickly, then opened the door and made a quick exit. I stood outside the car by the door and held it open, waiting for Em to slide over and get out. She stubbornly sat there, glaring out at me. Her mother had turned off the ignition to her car. She was waiting for Em to get out too. I had Em's mother as an ally now. I knew what most of her motivation probably was.

Now, I needed to find some motivation for Emily too. I had planned what happened next, ever since our last phone conversation the night before. She was mad, but I wanted her in my room making love with me.

"I love you, Emily, and I really do want to make love to you right now. Why don't you get out of that car, before I lose the little bit of self control I still have left, and jump your bones, right here, in front of your mother."

Emily was out of the car in less than two seconds, trying her best to jump into my arms without hurting herself on the opened car door I held. I turned, so I had a clear view of Em's mother before I spoke to her. "I'll bring her home when we're done, but it might take us awhile." Mrs. Carstairs attempted to force a smile, but it was pretty obvious that it wasn't a natural one. Em was happy, and I was happy too. Two out of three wasn't bad, but I wanted a clean sweep. "It was four hundred million, not one hundred." I shut the car's door, to punctuate the end of the conversation with Em's mom. I heard her backing down the long driveway on her way out. I'd never tried backing down that long driveway, but I decided I would attempt it myself soon. Em and I walked to the house.

When we got inside, there was no one in the house, at least not anywhere where we could see them. We were being quiet anyway though, walking from my front door, up the stairs and into my bedroom. I relaxed, once I had finished safely locking the dead bolt inside my bedroom. We spent a few hours having 'I love you sex'. It was similar to make up sex, but, every time I'd get her cumming, I'd tell her I loved her, and she'd start to cum even stronger, and cry out even louder. I never let go of her hands and legs the whole time. She was so responsive to my every kiss or to each thrust of my hips.

Somewhere, in those few, sweet fight free hours we managed to spend together, she decided to really forgive me, which, in turn, helped me to forgive myself, both for the way I'd treated her in the past, and the way I had treated her with her mother. I knew I really did love her, but I also knew that love had somehow become something that wasn't that difficult for me to feel. I had said the words to her, by the car, primarily to get her to come into the house with me. A month ago, I wouldn't have allowed myself to do that. I would have forced her to find her own reasons for giving me what we both clearly wanted. This was a new change that was taking place in me. I was learning an important social skill.

I had learned yet another valuable life lesson. I could help make it easier for people to do what I wanted them to do. Always before, I needed people to come to me, on my terms, and I had never made it easier for them to do so. I hadn't lied to her, about loving her, or about anything. I just was no longer holding my emotions back, forcing her to keep feeling bad when she decided to come with me, even though she was still angry. I had just learned to bend a little, to give her some help in deciding, so that we both were able to feel that it was okay to feel good about what we were doing.

I knew that being with Emily wasn't going to be all smooth sailing. It didn't matter how much I learned to bend and to help her to feel good about being with me. She was much more loyal and honest than Brenda had been, and while I didn't think I'd ever feel truly at peace with her, like I had with Shirley, there was still great comfort in being with her.

Of course, this was only true when we weren't in the middle of some fight, one that neither of us could ever hope to win. I hoped the fact that I was now ready to try to meet her halfway, and to compromise when necessary, would help cut way back on the number, and intensity, of our fights. We both needed to learn how to successfully resolve the conflicts that were certain to come up.

I knew that Mrs. Carstairs wouldn't really be a problem for me now. Her cooperation would always come with a price tag, but it wasn't for more than I was willing to pay to avoid having problems with her. I had experience in the past with people enthralled by money. Most were content to bask in the reflection of money. They simply wanted to be close to it, and that was sufficient to satisfy their need. It was like kids in a candy store. Looking was enough for them.

I had heard people refer to something called "obscene wealth", and then found out they were talking about much less money than the amount Uncle Bunny had left to me. Money to me just wasn't important, in and of itself. I was learning though, how necessary it was becoming, as a tool, allowing me to get things done in my life. I wasn't sure I could control all the aspects of my life, but I thought having money would help me to try.

If anyone had told me a year and a half before that I'd have spent almost a quarter of a million dollars helping people, I'd have laughed. I had gotten the trust disbursement sheets from Frank Clooney's people though, and that was the figure I had read at the bottom of the twenty third page. It had come out of several trusts set up for me by Uncle Bunny, but it had been my money to either keep or give away. This was just the beginning, and I knew the following year's total would be far greater. I was already at work, trying to create a cheaper, and more efficient way, to take care of my projects.

I was trying to get my father to approve transferring five million dollars, from my main trust, into the charitable trusts I was then creating, with Frank's help. These trusts had the advantage of being triple tax exempt for me. I wrote off the original donated sum when I created the trust, then, any earnings of the trust were tax exempt, in addition to any gifts made from the principal. I just needed to make sure I distributed all of the earnings, in the year they were earned.

I had a grain investment program I had come up with, that could return a fixed ten per cent annual yield. This was possible, because our family could always control both ends of the grain pipeline, as both grain producers and end users. There was no way for this investment to ever lose money. In fact, during good years, the potential for greater profits was very good. I could generate an annual tax free half million dollar yield, with a zero risk investment. I hoped my father would eventually agree to transfer the money from my trust, but Mama said she'd loan it to me, at no interest, until I turned twenty five, and came into control of my big trust on my own. I was counting on my Dad's horror at the thought of her lending out money with no annual yield to make him come around to doing things my way.

After I returned from taking Emily back home, the whole family was gathered together in the library. This included Hans and Gerta as well. As soon as I walked into the room, Mama started in with me about how Emily had deliberately flaunted her ring in front of Joyce.

"Just hold it, Mama. Joyce threw the first punch in this fight, back when she seduced me. She knew that Emily and I were together as a couple then. Today was just Emily's way of getting back at her a little. I've already spoken to her about doing that."

"What, exactly, is the significance of that ring, the one she was so brazenly whirling and twirling, right in front of our eyes?"

"That is a ring I gave her several months ago. The one I used to wear, on a chain, around my neck."

"I know what it was, I asked you what it signified." Mama was never one to beat around the bush. I could tell she wanted a straight answer.

"To who? To me, all it ever was is a relatively cheap piece of jewelry that I bought to remind me about thinking about consequences before acting. I think the ring somehow ended up meaning different things to different people. What it isn't, and what it will never be, is an engagement ring. I told Emily, months ago, that she could pretend it was one, to her friends at school. I had no idea she'd use it like she did this morning."

"What is this trip to California she told us about? Why wasn't I informed of it before she told me?"

"That's what it is, a trip to California. Dad told me I could use the company plane for some personal business, and for a pleasure trip combined. Mrs. Carstairs, Emily and, her brother, Gary, are going with me."

"And this other, personal, business?"

"I'm looking into a home I might be putting Anne Coulter into, a permanent home, one with people who can care for her special needs."

"Did your father approve of that as well?" The look Mama sent to my Dad wasn't a happy one.

"No, Mama, I approved it. She has become a responsibility that I wish to assume. I don't understand your attitude towards her. If anyone should be angry with her, I'm the one. She is no threat to what you and I have become. You are my mother, and I want no other. Someone needs to look to her safety, and to her comfort, and I'm the only one willing and capable of doing so. You never wanted me to shirk my responsibility, Mama."

"Very well. Will we continue to be subjected to repeat performances of that display of Emily's this morning?"

"I hope not, but, with Emily, no one can guarantee what she might do, especially if she feels like she's been wronged."

"This is a big mistake, Kenny. She isn't the right kind of girl for you." Joyce seemed sad at what I had been telling all of them. and I knew it had nothing to do with Anne Coulter. I had something to say to Joyce as well.

"Who is then, Joyce?"

"I'm not sure, but I know it isn't her."

"I think she is the right kind of girl for me, and I'm the only one who gets to decide that. I haven't asked her to marry me, and, even though I know I'm going to regret ever saying this to you, I'm still open to all sorts of other possibilities. Don't ask me about any of this until after you get finished growing. I'll tell you this one little thing though, and then I don't want to talk about it with you anymore. I had a dream, and I think it was a dream about my future. There were four girls in my dream, and you were one of them. In the dream I was getting ready to choose one of them to marry me. Because of my dream, I'm going to stop thinking of you as my sister, and start thinking of you again as my very good friend. A good friend who won't try to seduce me again."

I watched as she and Mama exchanged their secretive eye and facial signals with each other. Joyce started giggling, then she and Mama left the library, to head upstairs. I was sure they wanted to plot and scheme in privacy. Hans spoke up next.

"So, upstairs, everything was good? I ask only because Gerta bet me you two would end up fighting again up there." Gerta blushed at his exposing her side of the bet like he had.

"You win this time, Hans. We were too busy having make up sex to do any fighting this time." After I told him that, he and Gerta left, leaving me alone with my Dad.

"Kenny, I'm concerned about what you just did with Joyce. I don't want you leading her on, or filling her head with any false hopes."

"I'm not leading her on. I really did have that dream, and she figured quite prominently in it. Part of what I said was a message sent to Joyce, but part of it was also for Mama. That woman loves to meddle, she lives for it. I'd rather have her out in the open, plotting and scheming with Joyce, than back in her closet, hiding under blankets, withdrawing from the world. I've watched her for a long time now, and I've seen how hard she tries to avoid her worst depressions, but only when she's in the middle of something that's important to her, or when she has something absolutely necessary she has to do. This is partly an experiment about that, and partly simple self preservation. If she's plotting with Joyce, she can't be plotting with Brenda at the same time."

"That's an interesting thought, one that makes more sense than anything I've heard about her condition in a very long while. You believe this scheming with Joyce might actually prevent her bouts with depression?"

"We'll find out whether it helps or not. She's been doing a lot better since Uncle Bunny died. I think his death changed her in some way. I'll tell you a real secret, now, but you can't ever tell this to Mama."

"Very well, you have my word."

"I've made up my mind that it's going to be a two horse race, either Emily or Joyce. That was how my dream turned out, and it felt right to me. Right now, Emily is way out in front, but I wouldn't be too surprised, if she stumbles and falls, before we can get to the finish line. Joyce would be a lot steadier influence for me. Mama recognizes that, and that's what she thinks I need, some emotional stability and constant support. I'm not sure. Mama sees some parallels between Joyce and herself, and between you and me. I think she's trying to arrange a different beginning that what you and she experienced. That must mean she's happy with how things have finally turned out with the two of you."

"I have to say that I'm surprised you even would consider Joyce. When will you make your final decision?"

"Sometimes, I think Mama is a very wise woman. She understands people. I'm not going to reject her opinions out of hand. I'll consider what she says. I'm going to wait, at least until Joyce is finished growing, and gets her braces off."

"She has another two and a half years before the braces come off?"

"I'm hoping she gets a lot taller too. She said she's already grown an inch, but she has a long way to go. She might need more time, to finish growing, more time than just for the braces."

"What about your education? You still need to establish a firm foundation. College is the place to find that. "

"I'll be a junior by then, and living off campus anyway. If it's Joyce, you might lose her at the company for awhile."

"That could be bad, especially if we're at some critical juncture, and need her skills. Why not postpone your decision until after you've finished with your schooling? Won't they both still be somewhere around here then?"

"We'll see. What I'm saying to you now is what I believe now. It could turn out my dream was just that, only a dream, but I don't really believe that. In my dream, both of them were pregnant, so I decided to propose to one of them."

"Kenny, whatever you do, never ever tell your mother that part of your dream. Don't even mention the idea of grandchildren to her. If you ever get her started looking down that road, well, I don't even want to think of where that might lead us."

I already knew where it would lead, from my dream. In the dream, Mama was behind me, trying to push me towards Joyce, but I was resisting her. At the same time she was pushing me, she was trying to bring Emily closer to her. Mama was never one to waste any family asset. I had no doubt that grandchildren would turn out to be the family assets she cared for the most.



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Chapter 25

Emily and I were together for most of the rest of the weekend. In addition to some very satisfying make-up sex, we also spent time talking together, and just being around each other.

Sunday, she and I took four boys from the group homes, out to a ranch that rented horses over in Collier, a town about forty miles west of Ridgeline. At first, all of us were having a great time riding on the trails set up for riding. I think I was the first one to get sore balls, and chafed skin on my thighs, but, soon, all the boys were complaining about it.

Emily said she didn't feel anything bad happening in her legs. She whispered to me that all the bouncing around in the saddle, and the rubbing, as she swayed with her horse's movements, was actually kind of a turn on for her. She said her pussy was being massaged by the saddle.

We stopped off for barbecue sandwiches on the way back, and the boys really liked eating the messy food. I dropped the boys off in front of their homes, afraid to come in and face the music from their house parent moms. I didn't want to be anywhere around them, not after they saw how much sauce all the boys had spilled onto the front of their shirts. They were all sore, but happy to have gotten out and actually ridden some horses. It was a very good day for us.

I had been pleasantly surprised at how well Em seemed to get along with all the boys. She seemed to fit in well with them, laughing and kidding around with them right from the very beginning. On the ride back home, Freddie, one of our ten year old boys, fell asleep with his head cushioned against Emily's breast. She kept her arm around him as he slept. I wasn't sure why it struck such a strong chord with my emotions, seeing her like that, but it did. I guess part of it was that it made me think she'd be a good mother to our children someday, if we ever did get married.

We had gone over to Uncle Bunny's house when we got back to Ridgeline. We got there around six thirty, probably both thinking we'd have some more sex. It had been a weekend we'd managed to spend in harmony. I couldn't ever remember spending that much time with Emily, without the two of us getting into some kind of an argument before.

I'm not sure I remember why the subject came up on the drive back, but, while I was telling her something about the new modular extension we were going to build, over by Holton, I mentioned that we'd have twenty four more boys in the homes. I think Emily might have said something like 'all boys?', and that's when I told her about Joyce wanting us to open an extension for girls, sometime in the future.

Emily and I had never spoken of her life before she was adopted. I had assumed that both she and Gary were adopted almost from birth. Couples such as the Carstairs were, people with money and some small amount of fame, usually had their pick of the most desirable choices.

Babies were always the preferred adoptee's. In a way, it was funny that I had been silently complaining to myself about Emily not showing any interest in any of my projects, when I was guilty of not having spoken to her about something so basic as her age and circumstances when she'd been adopted. She hadn't been adopted as a baby, and, during our discussion about group homes for girls, I found this out, along with a lot of other things that made me understand her better.

Instead of going into the back bedroom and making love, we wound up cuddling on the sofa, while Emily told me about her earliest childhood memories, and of being adopted when she was six years old. Her mother, who had never been married, and who she only vaguely remembered, had gotten sick, and then she died. Emily, then three years old, went to live with an aunt, her mother's sister, for a very short time. That hadn't worked out, so she had turned Emily over to social services, saying she was unable to care for her, and that she didn't have any other relatives, none that she was in touch with, that could provide a home for Emily. This started a year long odyssey for Em, being shifted back and forth from one temporary foster home to the next, while social services sought to find her a more permanent placement.

This had been unusual, but Emily had presented behavioral problems during all her temporary placements. She told me she used to throw giant temper tantrums. She would fall to the floor and scream at the top of her lungs, kicking her feet at anyone and anything that came within her range. This was apparently not the kind of behavior that went over well with most foster parents, which was part of the reason that Emily spent a year shuffling around in the child care system. Emily told me she had also been a very picky eater, liking to eat only Cheerios, Ritz Crackers, and anything that was sweet. She didn't like milk, and she ate her cereal dry. She told me she also had problems with being toilet trained.

While she was telling me this, it really didn't sound anything like the Emily I knew. She didn't throw tantrums, although she still kicked once in awhile. She was a good eater too. She usually ate almost as much as I did, and she was a lot smaller than me.

She told me about the foster home she went to, finally, where the lady in the home reminded her a lot of her own, dead, mom. This woman had a lot of patience with Emily, tolerating her tantrums, and hugging her afterwards, instead of punishing her for them. Emily didn't remember the lady's husband that well, but she remembered a lot about the woman. She told me that she thought the lady would have adopted her if she had been able to afford to do so. The money she got for having Emily and two other kids, as foster children, was needed to supplement her family's income.

When Emily was six years old, the Carstairs came to take her out for a get acquainted visit. They had just adopted Gary, and they were looking for a big sister for him. Gary was four years old at the time. According to Emily, she and Gary looked a lot more alike when they were younger children. I remembered when I had first met them, she and Gary had the same curly hairstyles, but even then, the disparity in their sizes and body shapes made them look very different from each other.

For some reason, Emily couldn't remember why, she stayed well behaved during the first few visits with the Carstairs. She played well with Gary, and didn't go back to her temper tantrums or picky eating habits. This lasted only until the time the Carstairs family decided to apply to adopt her, and until she found herself being moved away from her foster care mom.

Apparently, Emily had been very upset to be taken out of her foster home. She'd been living there for more than two years. Because of being angry at having to leave her foster mom, Em started reverting back to all her old behaviors again. Her tantrums were ignored, and she was allowed to eat only what was served to her at meal times. Emily said, for a month or so, she practically lived on bread and fruit, the two allowable snacks she was able to have other than her regular meals. She might have continued on her food strike and tantrums, Emily claimed, if her mother hadn't started giving both children much smaller portions on their plates. Whatever Emily refused to eat would be given to Gary, or else one of her parents would eat it after she refused it.

"There was so little food on those plates, and I was so hungry, that I started eating again. Soon, they had me asking for second helpings, and then, thirds. I finally had to ask them to serve me a big plate of food like they had. It became kind of a contest between my mom and me. I'd start doing something new, to try to make her mad at me, and she'd find a way to make me stop wanting to do it. I used to fight her all the time about taking baths. She would just let me play in the bathroom, while she gave Gary a nice bubble bath, and then, she'd let him play with all of my bath toys. I also used to refuse to go to sleep at night, getting up after everyone else was asleep, and walking all around the house, getting into things. This really bothered my mom. She was worried that I'd hurt myself because no one else was awake to see what I was doing. I came home from school one day and found her in the living room, crying really hard. She and my father had been fighting about me. When I went up to my room, I saw that all of my new clothes had been packed up inside three small suitcases. I knew what that meant, I was being moved again."

"They were going to send you back?"

"My dad had told her that I was unhappy living there, and he didn't want to keep me with them if I didn't want to be there. I always got along better, in the beginning, with him. It was only with my mom that I had this trouble. He was the first man I'd ever really liked, and he was going to send me away. I knew that I probably wouldn't be sent back to my old foster home again, because of how the system worked. I went over and hid under my bed, crying, unable to handle another move in the system. I'd never been so sad and upset, not even when my other mother had died. My mother came in my room, and she found me hiding underneath the bed. My father wasn't at home that day, but I don't know where he was."

"What did your mom do?"

"She got down on the floor and she talked to me. I told her I didn't want to leave, and she said she didn't want it either, but daddy had decided, and we had to do what he said."

"Jeez, did she even try to talk to him, try to talk him out of it?"

"No. She packed a bag for her, and another one for Gary. After, she called a taxi, and the three of us left to go to her parent's farm. We rode a bus the whole way, and it took a real long time to get here. We were there at the farm for a long time before daddy came to try to get us. That was the only time I've ever seen my mother stand up to him. We had been living in New York, which is where I was born, but my mom was originally from here. She met my dad here, and then they got married and moved to New York. When he first came to the farm to talk to my mother, she told him she wasn't letting me go, and that I was much better behaved now. He left again, but when she didn't give in to him, he came back and took us all back to New York with him. My dad's first two successful books had come out, and he spent a lot of time going to book signings, and speaking at small colleges that hired him to teach two day seminars to their creative writing students. After his books started selling more, he quit doing anything, other than writing, and we all moved back here to live."

"I just thought you'd been adopted as a little baby."

"No. I still remember what it was like in the foster care system. That's why I'm so thankful to my parents for giving me a real home. That's also why it bothered me so much when you told them that we were having sex, and when you talked about me that way with my mom. I still have a little fear, way in the back of my head, that if I disappointed them bad enough, something terrible would happen."

"Since you're almost seventeen, I doubt if they would send you back. I don't think you need to worry about that."

"No, that isn't what I meant. Now, they accept me, but they might stop wanting me to be their daughter or something, if I did something they really hated for me to do."

"Why do you think your mother asked me those questions about my money? Brenda said your family was rich."

"Was rich. Not any more. The last book didn't do very well, and Daddy lost a lot of his money in the foreign exchange trading he was doing. I heard them talking about having to cut back on things. We still get money from royalties on his three best books, but all the other things he wrote are out of print, or not selling anything. He got advance money for the next book, but he hasn't been able to finish it. He's afraid the publishers are going to start using the royalty checks to pay themselves back for the money they advanced to him for the unfinished book."

"Why doesn't he just finish it and let them publish it? If it sells a lot, his problems would be over."

"He hasn't written anything since Gary and I got sick, and we all had to come back here for us to get better. He still needs to do a lot more research on the book. The kind of books he writes have to be filled with real facts and lots of details. He tried to write other kinds of books, pure fiction things, but he hasn't found a story that he likes well enough to take it past an outline."

Knowing that the Carstairs were having money problems answered a lot of questions I'd had, like why Em's father had backed down so quickly, and why her mom was concerned about my money. Em and I talked about Europe, and about how her Dad's family had plenty of money, but they didn't get along well with her father.

"How long would your father need to go to Europe to finish his research?"

"He doesn't know. He thinks maybe a month and a half, but it might be shorter, because he has been able to find out the answers to a lot of his questions by correspondence, and by using the libraries at some of the universities he goes to visit. Mostly, he needs to see the areas he's writing about, and fix the directions of how things are laid out. Things like woods and hills, and older roads from the time he's writing about."

Em and I never did get around to having sex. She wanted to talk about the group homes for girls. She wanted me to change my plans, and use the first modular extension for girls. I was probably going to get into a big fight with her about it, but then I decided to once again change my tactics.

"Look, we've already got plans for this one, but, if you and Joyce want to use these plans, and build another one somewhere, I don't care. I has to be real close to here though, and you and Joyce have to see if the two of you can work together on it. I'm going to have my hands full making time for four new group homes of boys. I'll take care of most of the money, but you need to try and get a grant for the building costs of the group homes. I'll have Mama find some land for it. She has a lot of her own, and she knows who owns pieces that are big enough, and that might be available for sale."

"I don't think Joyce and I can work together."

"All right."

"You aren't going to build these homes if I don't work with her?"

"I'll build them, eventually, but not right now. I'll need to find a woman who will work with Joyce. Right now, I need her to help me with what I'm already doing. I was willing to let you work with her because I thought you wanted to get something done quicker than we've got planned. Maybe I'll have girls in one of the new homes, just to see how it would work with a mixed group home cluster. I think it would cause a lot of problems, but I'm willing to give it a try."

"How about half and half, two houses of each? That way, it would be even, and the boys wouldn't be able to overpower or dominate things with the girls."

"I'm pretty sure that Joyce had younger girls in mind. The boys would be older. I'm not sure it would work well with boys and girls together like you're thinking. What we're doing now seems to be working well, and I'm not sure we should start experimenting too much with it."

I saw the look on Emily's face. In her mind, she had already become the advocate for these little orphan girls she didn't even know anything about. I'd seen a similar look from Joyce. I knew she was going to keep pushing this, until I either gave in to her, or we wound up in a fight about it. I think she realized the same thing. In the past, neither of us would have backed away, or if we had, the other would have still pressed forward, unwilling to leave it unresolved.

"Let's go ask your mother what she thinks, Kenny. Maybe she has some ideas that we could try. It isn't fair to make the girls wait, just because you're only interested in helping boys."

"My mother? This is mostly my project. She does a lot to help us with fund raising, and she puts her own money in too, but she's busy running the golf center."

"I might be able to work with your mother and Joyce together, but not just with Joyce." I could see, like her father, this request was more a face saving thing than any real hope of getting my mother actively involved in the project. Before, I might have rebuffed her request, now, I hopped right on it.

"Good idea. You want to stay here and make love with me, or go over and see Mama?" I thought I knew what her answer would be, but, again, she fooled me.

"Let's go, before you change your mind about it."

We left Uncle Bunny's house, and drove over to mine. Joyce, Dad and Mama were just sitting down for dinner when we walked in the house. We weren't dressed for dinner, and we both smelled of horses, and all the things associated with them. Naturally, none of this bothered Emily, and when Mama asked us to join them, she took the one seat open between Joyce and Mama. I went around and sat in my usual place, glancing at Joyce's face as I did so. As near as I could determine, she was sniffing Emily, and I couldn't prevent a laugh from escaping me.

"We took some of the boys horseback riding, sorry for the smell. Emily was so excited about your idea for the group homes for girls, that she wanted to come right over and ask you and Mama some questions about it." Joyce looked over at Emily to confirm what I'd said.

"Kenny said we could build one of those modular things, only for girls instead of boys, and use the house plans for the other one, right away, if we could all work on it together. I don't know what I can do, but I'd like to help." I was impressed that she addressed herself, right away, to Joyce. I could see all the wheels turning in Mama's head. She was already trying to figure out how Emily and Joyce, side by side, would compare, if I was to see the two of them working together. My guess was that she thought Joyce would so far surpass Emily with her working competence, and that it would take away a lot of Emily's advantage as far as looks were concerned.

"You've agreed to building an extension for girls at the same time as the one you're currently planning?" Mama was again making certain that everyone knew what was at stake as a prize for doing this. She had made her decision. She obviously thought that Joyce would far surpass Emily as far as working toward the successful completion of the project. I didn't disagree with her assessment, but it wasn't a competition as far as I was concerned. I was interested to see if Emily would really try to work with Joyce, and vice versa. I could see Joyce trying to undermine Emily's contributions.

"I would expect you to help them too, Mama. There are bound to be things that come up where your input would be much appreciated."

"Financial input?"

"That too, but I was referring mostly to overseeing the construction contracts, like you did for the golf center. Maybe Hans can help too? You two have experience with this type of building project. I thought you also might be the referee, to make sure these two play fair with each other."

"Kenny, remind me to speak with you about sticking your head into a lion's mouth." My Dad had been sitting quietly, listening to all that was being said. He was aware of the dynamics in play between the four of us. I think he was concerned that I'd allowed my caring for Emily to override my sense of self preservation. He knew that Mama wasn't going to play fair anyway. She had already picked the side that she wanted to win. I had confidence that I'd be able to tell what was really happening. I was actually looking forward to watching all of it play itself out. Emily and I were both stuffed from the barbecue, but we did manage to both have some dessert with the family.

During dinner, Mama asked both Hans and Gerta to come into the dining room. She told them that we were changing our plans about the group home expansion. She told them she thought the land that Hans and Gerta owned over by the golf center would be a nice place to put another extension. She said they would only need about twelve acres of land, and that she'd be willing to pay them whatever they asked for it. Hans and Gerta offered to donate the land, but Mama said no. Mama wound up offering them a lot of money for the eighty acre parcel they had owned for many years. She paid them a very fair price for it, telling them that she was going to keep the rest of the land in reserve, in case she needed to expand the golf center. Hans said he was going to use the money to buy more land in that general area, hopefully land contiguous with the hundred and sixty acres he and Gerta still owned.

On Monday, between classes, I called over to Frank Clooney and asked him to prepare a document for me. I told him I'd like to pick it up that afternoon, along with the check I'd need, drawn on the account the income I was earning was being deposited into. Frank said he'd have it ready for me. He also told me the three charitable trusts were ready, and all they required was my father's signature, and money for their funding. I told him we were still discussing it, and it might be necessary to make some changes, if my father remained unwilling to transfer my money over to them.

He told me there wasn't any big hurry, but that it would be nice if he didn't need to keep depleting funds from my other, smaller trusts. He was concerned because they were being liquidated at a fast rate, and he was the overseeing fiduciary, responsible for the prudent distribution of the assets. I assured him that he'd have funding for all three trusts within ten days, and that seemed to satisfy him. Frank was a lot more concerned with the tiny brush strokes than my Uncle Bunny had ever been. My uncle had been known to play fast and loose, and then fill in all the necessary details, at a later, more convenient, time. Perhaps, this was, in part, due to the fact that he was usually playing fast and loose with his own money, not someone else's.

I had given my father the passenger information for the California trip, along with our itinerary, and Mrs. Carstairs driver's license information. He would give this to Myra, and she would get everything set up with the travel booking lady. School was made more difficult because I found myself daydreaming about Emily, worrying about how Mama, Emily, and Joyce would all get along, and trying to give myself a ballpark estimate on what this new extension would cost me. I knew there was a good chance we wouldn't be given a new grant for the building costs, not so soon after receiving the last one.

I was again fortunate, in that I wasn't called on too much, and when I was called on, I had a fair grasp of the information required to formulate an answer. Once I stumbled, giving an incorrect answer, but even that sparked a spirited debate among some other students, which saved the day for me. Giving any answer that stimulated debate and discussion was a welcome thing with our teachers, even if the answer itself had been incorrect.

I felt fortunate to have gotten away with all my day dreaming, and admonished myself to bear down harder in my studies. I was at a point where I didn't dare let down on my studies. I expected certain things from myself, and good grades had become important to me.

I stopped off at Frank's office on my drive home, to pick up the contract form I'd had him prepare for me, along with the check I'd requested. After thanking Frank, and again reassuring him that the trusts would be funded soon, I headed over to Emily's house. Mrs. Carstairs answered the door, telling me that Emily hadn't gotten home yet. I told her that I'd come to have a word with Mr. Carstairs. She asked me what it concerned, and I told her it concerned Mr. Carstairs and myself, but it was a business proposition that I had come to see if he was interested in. She asked me to come inside, and then took me back to Mr. Carstairs home office. Basically, it was a large library with a lot of light from several large outside windows. Mr. Carstairs was busy jotting something down on a yellow notepad when his wife interrupted him to tell him I wanted to speak with him. He didn't look at all happy to see me, probably thinking the worst about why I had come to him. Mrs. Carstairs excused herself, and shut the door behind her.

"I came over to see you because Emily told me you still needed to do some research for the book you're writing. She told me a little about the research problems, and the publisher's advance."

"She had no business disclosing our business to you." I could see that he was angry.

"Well, I think she thought it would be all right because we both love each other, and it was bothering her. She feels bad that it was Gary and her getting sick that prevented you from being able to finish researching your new book."

"That played only a small part. I'm having other problems now, with the book's concept. Problems that are far greater than my lack of completed research. I'm going to have to do a complete revision almost. In one sense, I'm almost starting all over again with it. A lot of my prior research is now useless."

"Emily said you could do it in a month and a half?"

"Possibly, but that was before I decided on my concept changes. I'd need at least three to five months of intense, on site research, to do justice to the direction I'm now heading. Sometimes, I wonder why I ever wanted to become a writer. It is a profession capricious in its yields. At times, it all seems so easy, and then, it turns, and nothing comes easy anymore. I'm afraid this book was too ambitious an undertaking for me. I wasn't prepared for all the places it would lead me. You have to take an idea where it leads you, Kenny. This one, combined with my own bad investment judgment, has led me to disaster."

"If it's only money, it isn't really a disaster. That's one of the reasons I stopped by today. I hate seeing Emily worried about something like this. I thought I could advance you some research funds, and you could repay me from the earnings from your book."

"A piss poor bargain for you, I think. My book sales haven't exactly been robust of late. This was one of the reasons I decided to try my hand at the type of work I made a reputation producing. I've had only three books that were well received, and moderately successful. All the rest has been disappointing, both to my publishers, and to my financial advisers."

"I can afford to take a chance on this."

"Listening to my wife gushing so enthusiastically about your financial net worth, I can well believe that to be true. The problem with that is that I could never bring myself to accept any of it from you."

"Is it pride, a personal dislike for me, or because you think it would be like you were selling your daughter to me?"

"All of those and more. You are forgetting Anne Coulter and your threats to sue me for all of that. How would it look if I accepted money from you?"

"I'm not sure how that affects any of this. I'm doing this for Emily, and for your wife and Gary too. I'm not even talking about a lot of money here. How much can you make with a successful book? I heard it could be millions."

"For a small handful its millions. For me, a big book would be a quarter of a million, and then some residual earnings. More than that though, would be new exposure for my older works. My publisher might reissue some of my work currently not in print. It would prime the pump for all my past books."

"A lot of money for you then, worth both of us taking a small chance. Read this contract and tell me what you think. I think it's fair, but I'm pretty sure this isn't enough money to last you through five months of research."

"I've told you I wouldn't accept your money. I think we should leave it like that, and let the matter drop." He didn't accept the loan contract I'd had Frank prepare. It was a one page document, basically a promissory note for an unsecured loan of twenty five thousand dollars.

"After hearing you tell me that, I have to wonder if I inherited my own stubbornness from you?"

"Contrary to what you stated to me, I didn't take your mother's innocence. I admit to participating in sex with her, but I was certainly not the first, and neither the last, or the only. I shouldn't have been weak, but I wasn't the one who initiated our brief sexual contact. I've never denied what I've done, but the chance that you are my child is very, very, slight."

"I know that. Anne told me a lot about what her life was like back then. She has no idea herself about who my father might be. According to her, it could have been almost anybody. This isn't about you and me, or you and Anne. This is about you and your professional life, and about Emily and I, and me caring about how she feels. Please read the agreement and reconsider. This doesn't have to be personal between you and me. I've never read any of your books, but Emily says you are a very good writer."

"This is about you getting to play the big hero with Emily? If it is, you needn't worry. She already worships you. You have no idea what hearing about your many exploits, at the dinner table nightly, has done to my digestive system."

"Take the money, go to Europe and do your research. That way you could get your finances straightened out, get your professional life back on track, and avoid having to hear about me at your dining table."

"You are almost tempting me with that last incentive, but, still, I must refuse. Thank you for coming over, Kenny, and for thinking about Emily's welfare. We'll manage on our own though."

"If you don't take the money, I might have to rescue Emily. Right now I might decide the best way to proceed was for me to ask her to marry me. If you took the money, I promise not to do so, at least not until you come back from doing all your research. Before you tell me I can't marry her without parental permission, there are seven states where she and I could go, take simple blood tests, and be married in anywhere from one to five days. I really don't want to get married so young though, so I hope you don't make me consider that as a viable option for protecting Emily's future." I had made up those statistics about young people getting married without their parents approval, but I was hoping it wasn't something he had already researched. Shirley had said that she and I were old enough to get married in Maryland.

"My wife would probably sign a consent anyway. She almost assuredly would sign it if you promised to take her along on the honeymoon. You have me at a tremendous disadvantage young man. You can simply overwhelm me with your power. I have nothing left to use to fight against you. While that means I can't prevent you from doing what you want to with Emily, I still can refuse to be a participant in the process. Please excuse me, but this discussion is now over."

I left, and when I came out into their living room, I was greeted by concerned looks on the faces of Mrs. Carstairs, Gary and Emily. Emily got up and came to me.

"This is a surprise, Kenny. What were you and Daddy talking about?"

"Not too much. I asked him about an idea I had, but he didn't think it would work out. After he told me why, I had to agree with him. I guess I need to figure out another way. So, tell me about school. Did you find someone better looking than me to go out with?"

"Not today, but I was so busy thinking about other things that I didn't have much time to look. I'm not looking for better looking though, I want one who's richer, and who lives even closer to me."

"That's going to be hard for you to find. I'm pretty sure I'm the richest kid on this street, except possibly for Gary, and he's your brother."

"I was afraid of that. Maybe I'll just settle for a better kisser."

"That will be hard too, but maybe not impossible. I'm willing to practice as much as you want to. I'm sure I'll get better with more experience." I leaned down to kiss her. Her lips were soft and her breath was warm. Her body was so alive in my arms I was afraid she'd start vibrating if I held her any closer. I knew what all of this meant. I leaned close to her ear and whispered to her.

"Sorry now that you decided to go over to my house last night to see my mom and Joyce?" She shook her head that she wasn't. "Do you still have homework to do?" She shook her head that she did. "Me too, and I've got to get to it." I said goodbye to Gary and Em's mom, then she and I walked out together to my car.

"Mom thought you came to offer my father some money. Did you?"

"Your mother is a wise woman. To answer your question though, no, I didn't loan him any money. Mostly we talked about our differences, and how tired he was of hearing you talking about how great I am. He said it was ruining his digestion."

"Would you loan him money if I asked you to?"

"I'd loan you money, and you could loan it to him if you wanted. How much do you want?"

"Can I borrow a thousand dollars?"

"Absolutely. I think I have that much in my room. Is that all you need?"

"How about five thousand?"

"Sure. I'd need to get a check from my lawyer, but I could do it tomorrow if you want it."

"How about a million dollars?"

"I don't have a million dollars of my own right now. I mean I have that much, I just can't get to it yet because everything is tied up in trusts."

"If you could get to it, would you give it to me. As a loan?"

"I certainly would. I know just what I'd want for collateral too." She giggled and pulled away from me as I pretended to reach for her crotch.

"You don't need to loan me money to be able to get some of that. How much money do you have that you could loan me? I don't know how or when I could pay you back. My mother says we need some money for the house payments. I think they're a lot of money."

"I know where I can get my hands on twenty five thousand for you, Emily. Would that be enough?"

"I'm not sure. Can I go ask my mother if it is? You can't tell my dad about it, because my mom says he'd never allow it if he knew."

"I won't say anything to him, but I don't think he'd feel good if you did something he wouldn't be willing to do himself. I can give you a check right now, made out to him. You try to get him to cash it. If he says no, then you tried, and I'll loan that much money directly to you later on. When you go to see your father, tell him you asked me for the money, because you love him and your mom." I gave her the check that was folded in my shirt pocket. Emily was smart, and she knew I must have come over to offer her father the money on my own.

"He wouldn't take it from you?"

"No. He doesn't like me much right now, and I can't really blame him. I thought he could go finish his research, then write and publish his book."

"I'll talk to him. He feels responsible for all the bad things that have happened, to his money, and to his writing career. He thinks we're all mad at him, but we aren't, not really. Mostly, we're just worried about what's going to happen if we don't do something."

"Maybe he'll take the money from you. He loves you."

I kissed her and drove home. I didn't really think she'd have any more luck than I had, but, maybe, his problem was in accepting any help directly from me. The check was issued from my account, but the name on the account was a corporation that Uncle Bunny had set up. The signature on it was Frank Clooney's. My name didn't appear on it anywhere. Maybe that would be enough for him.

I was up in my bedroom at around nine when the phone rang. It was Mr. Carstairs, asking me questions about the check he held in his hand. I told him it was drawn on a trust created by my late uncle, and now administered and trusteed by his successor trustee. The funds for it were dividends and other income from the investments held in the trust. I told him that I was the eventual beneficiary of the trust assets.

"You don't play fair young man. I hope you realize that. I had hoped you'd show some common decency and not use my own daughter to get your way with this."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Carstairs. I didn't say anything to her until she asked me if I'd loan her some money. When she asked me not to let you know I'd loaned her some money, I told her you'd be upset if your wife and daughter went behind your back to do what they thought needed to be done. I told her to take the check to you so you could know and decide. I also told her if you wouldn't take the check, I'd loan her the money personally, so she could stop being so concerned about her family's future."

"I'll pay you back every penny of this money. I'm not going to thank you for it though, or say that I'm grateful to you for you having done it this way."

"I understand. I hope you write a fantastic book, and you make so much money that you can afford to do whatever you want to. Good night, Mr. Carstairs."

After we hung up, I wondered again if treating him the way I had in the past was going to keep coming back to have an effect on my relationship with Emily. I'd told him the truth, that my only real concern had been Emily being worried about money. Maybe I should have gotten someone else, maybe my parents, to deal with Mr. Carstairs. He had to know that I hadn't meant it as an insult, or as a way to question his competence as a father, or as the head of his family. That comment about my marrying Emily was probably not the wisest one for me to make either.

I still had some work to do for the group homes, but I had gotten all of my homework and preparation done for the next day's classes. I was proof reading one of the licensing applications that Joyce had given me to look over, when my phone rang again. It was Gerta, letting me know that Emily was waiting to speak to me downstairs. I went down to see what she wanted. I was still dressed in my school clothes, not having bothered to change for dinner.

"Hi, Kenny. Mom drove me over so I could talk to you and thank you for what you're doing for us. My dad finally decided that he'd take your money."

"I know, he called me."

"He wasn't going to at first, but, mom and I were finally able to convince him that he had to. He told us that you threatened to marry me if he didn't take the money."

"I was only bluffing. That wasn't a proposal, Emily."

"I knew that. He knew it too. He's mostly embarrassed about everything. He doesn't really dislike you that much."

"He dislikes me enough, and most of that is my fault. Sometimes, I can push pretty hard to get what I want. I don't set reasonable limits for myself some times. Your dad kind of got in my way at a time when all I could think about was wanting to get back together with you. I said some things to him that I'm not very proud of."

"I know some of what you said, at least the parts about having sex with me. That really bothered him. He looks at me sometimes, and his eyes are so sad, I have to get away from him looking at me like that. I don't think he likes knowing what you and I do."

"No, and, he probably shouldn't have gotten to know. Your mom either. Sometimes, I can be pretty ruthless."

"I know that. You do it with me sometimes too, but I love you anyway. I need to get back home before ten. I just wanted you to know he took the money, and to thank you for helping us like that." We kissed again, and when I walked her out front, her mother's car was gone. I walked home with her, and we stopped several times along the way, just to kiss for a minute or two. Still, I got her home before ten, and I was home only a little bit past that time.

Tuesday went pretty well, meaning nothing bad happened. The closer we got to the time for the trip to happen, the more nervous I was about something going wrong. I spoke to Emily on the phone, and she told me her father was leaving for Europe, from New York, on Friday. She also said that her mom told her she wasn't going to be allowed to spend Wednesday night at my house because she wanted the whole family to be together before Em's dad left for such a long time. I told her that seemed reasonable. I also spoke to the sanitarium about making sure that Anne was brought to the airport by nine o'clock Thursday morning, with enough clothes to last her for a four day trip. They promised to have her there, but reminded me there was an extra charge involved for providing that service.

Wednesday night, I remembered I hadn't gone to the bank to get some cash. I had a company credit card, but I still wanted more cash than I had on hand. I went downstairs and found Mama, asking her if she had any spare cash she could loan me for the trip. She got up and went upstairs, returning in a few minutes with a wrapped bundle of hundred dollar bills. There were fifty bills in the bundle, five thousand dollars.

"Here, Kenny." I took the money and just looked at her. "What? That's money I won from your father and Bunny. Don't worry, it's all good."

"Why did you keep it like this instead of putting it in one of your accounts and earning a return on it?"

"It isn't that much, and having cash alway comes in handy, like now. I have more if you need it. I don't want you missing out on something because you were short of money."

"I'm pretty sure this will be more than adequate. I was thinking about maybe five hundred dollars. I have about twelve hundred in my drawer already."

"Bring back what you don't need. Better to have it and not need it, Kenny. You should charge everything that you possibly can on the trip. Did your father speak to you about picking up some equipment brochures he's having left for you at the Disneyland Hotel? That's very important dear, because it gives us a legitimate business reason for making the trip on the plane. There should be at least four or five equipment representatives dropping brochures off for you on Sunday morning. If you have the time, come down and greet them. Your father told them to get there between seven and seven thirty on Sunday morning, so you'll need to get up early and be ready to say hello. Each one you actually see and spend time with counts as a separate meeting. Make sure you get their business cards, and write up a little report for your father, about the meetings."

Thursday morning, I drove over and picked up the Carstairs family before seven. Each of them carried only one suitcase, although Emily's mother had a smaller bag, for makeup and jewelry. She never let the small bag out of her sight.

When we got to the airport at Bolling, the plane was ready, and I introduced everyone to the pilot and co-pilot. For a trip this long, we were required, by our maintenance contractors, to have a co-pilot along with us.

We picked Anne up without any problems. Mrs. Carstairs had to sign some papers, taking delivery of her or something, and then we all got back on the plane. Anne had been given something to calm her down, just in case she was going to be nervous about flying. She was dressed warmly, and didn't seem that aware of where we were taking her. By the time we landed to refuel, she was feeling more like herself, and she and I started discussing San Diego, and the family that might want her to come live with them. I told her how warm it was in San Diego in the winters, and told her that the Webb's had told me it was very quiet in their home. She seemed to like everything I was telling her until I mentioned that the Webb's had an older daughter who lived at home with them."

"Is she a patient too?" She looked at me suspiciously, like I'd been trying to trick her or something.

"She has had a few problems too, Anne, but I'm not sure what they are. You asked me to find you someplace warm and quiet, and this looks like it might be just what you wanted. You don't have to move there if you don't want to. We'll keep looking until we find a place that you like."

"Who are all these other people?"

"This is Emily, my girlfriend, her mother, Kitty, and her brother, Gary. Guys, this is Anne." Everybody waved and smiled.

"Who are those other men, the ones in the front, in uniforms?"

"They're the pilots?"

"Are we going to fly there?" She had a shocked look when she asked me that.

"We've been flying there. I think we're in Arizona now."

"I didn't know we were flying. You should have told me. This isn't a very big plane, Kenny. I thought they were bigger. This is like a bus, the kind we take trips on at the hospital."

"We're refueling, and then we'll take off again. Move over by the window, and you can look out after we get in the air again." I pointed her over to the window seat, but she stayed where she was, on the aisle. "Don't you want to look outside?" She nodded her head back and forth, nervously. I noticed her head was turning quickly, looking in all directions before she found the exit door. I started worrying until she asked me if there was a restroom on the plane. I pointed up front to where it was. She got up and hurried forward. All of us could hear her being sick in the bathroom. Em's mom went forward to make sure she was all right. In a few minutes, they both came back and resumed their seats. This time, Kitty sat beside Anne, who had moved into the window seat. I moved away, as the two of them were talking together in whispers. I moved over behind and on the other side to sit beside Emily and Gary.

I could see that Anne's appearance, and her being all doped up when we first got her on the plane had Emily and Gary worried. The alcohol and the drug use had taken a toll on Anne's looks, at least her face. She looked older than her chronological age. Part of this was from always being scared and on edge I think. I had seen pictures of her when she was fifteen or sixteen, and she had been a good looking girl. She had resembled me in her facial features. She reminded me more of Elizabeth's face in that picture than she did of mine though.

"Is she going to be all right, Kenny?" Emily leaned forward when Gary quietly asked me the question.

"I don't really know that much about her Gary. The doctors said she wasn't a danger to anyone else though. I think they use that medication on any traveling patients though. She's starting to act more like her normal self now. If she doesn't get all upset at the take off, I'm sure she'll be fine."

That was how it went too. She got a little jumpy from all the engine noise when we were taking off, but as soon as we leveled off in the air and the engines were set back in power, she calmed down, except for her excited pleasure at looking out at the desert and the occasional towns below. Once we started coming over the more populated and greener areas of California, she was pretty relaxed, until we started our descent for landing at the airport in San Diego. She didn't get too nervous though, and all of us managed to deplane and go into the hangar waiting area to wait for a shuttle over to the car rental place. As soon as I got to a pay phone, I dialed the Webb's home number and spoke with Mrs. Webb, telling her that we had landed and were driving to our Hotel to check in first. I had told her how many were in our party, and she thought it might be better if I brought Anne over by myself for the first time. I got the impression that this was more for her daughter's sake than for anything else.

We got to the hotel and checked in fine. They had only booked us into two suites, both with two separate bedrooms. We put Anne's stuff in our spare bedroom, and freshened up a little before Anne and I left for the Webb's. I gave Emily two hundred dollars, and asked her to take everyone out to dinner, and find something fun they could do close by the hotel. I needed to take the rental car to get to the Webb's.

I had a map with precise directions, and the hotel was fairly close to their home. It was a large, two story house in a cluster of large two story homes. They all looked very similar, with several different shades of pastel paints they seemed to all favor. I parked, and Anne and I walked up the little walkway to the front door.

Mr. Webb opened the door and invited us in. Lenore Webb, their daughter, was standing shyly behind her mother. She looked in her late thirties, and she had scars on her face that were very obvious. She had been in a car wreck in her early twenties, and had brain damage that had affected her behavior and her speech. I noticed she was looking at me with what certainly appeared to be a lot of interest. I kind of felt like a pork chop being eyed by a hungry dog, from the looks she was giving me. While the Webb's, Anne and I were sitting down in the living room talking, Lenore excused herself for a moment. She came back a few minutes later, wearing a different outfit than the one she'd been wearing. Before, she had on a blouse and jeans, but now, she'd changed into a dress. It looked like a fancy dress too. I noticed she hadn't changed shoes, and still had on tennis shoes and some blue socks. She sat on the couch with her parents, sitting beside her father, listening to everything being said. I heard her say something to her father, but I couldn't understand it. She had a speech impediment of some kind. He patted her hand and told her no. She looked disappointed.

"Lenore likes you, Kenny, she asked me if you were the one moving in. Since her accident, Lenore has suffered from lack of male attention. Sometimes, though, she gets out of the house, and then she gets into some very inappropriate behavior, don't you honey?"

The next thing I heard from her was said clearly enough that I understood it, and so did Anne. I saw Mrs. Webb wince when she heard it too. "I fuck all the boys." I sat there, not knowing how to respond to her comment. When I heard Anne laugh, I looked back over at the Webb's, seated across from us, and I could clearly see Lenore's legs opened wide, giving me a clear look at her panty less pussy. I quickly averted my gaze. I was starting to form my doubts about Lenore and the Webb's.

"Don't be upset, Mr. Parsons. Lenore is only acting out. She doesn't mean any harm by it. Anne, what did you think of Lenore's putting herself on display like that?"

"I thought it was funny. I've seen a lot of people do that at the hospital. It didn't bother me, if that's what you were asking."

"Do you think you could live in this house with Lenore carrying on like she does?"

"If I don't have to sleep with her. I'm not into girls. I like to be left alone by people."

"You won't have that kind of problem with Lenore, although you might be troubled when she decides to masturbate herself at the dinner table. Some people are very bothered by that sort of behavior."

"Is she going to be passing me food? If she is, after playing with herself, I'd be troubled by that. Lenore, why don't you wait and do that in your own room?"

"Shut up!" Lenore spoke that sentence clearly as well. Her father again patted her hand and spoke soothingly to her.

"Anne, why do you think you need people caring for you?" This was Mrs. Webb asking her the question. I too was interested in seeing how she'd respond to being asked that.

"I don't do well when I'm left on my own. I'm too suggestible. Sometimes, I don't want to do anything for myself, and then I need some help. I forget where I am, and why I'm there. Not all the time, but sometimes. I have to take my medicines, but I forget to take it when I'm supposed to, or take too much of it because I forget I just took some. I get scared too, and when I'm scared, I need someone close by that I know and can trust. Noises bother me too. I like it to be real quiet, with no one screaming at me or hitting me. I'll be good if you let me stay here. Lenore isn't going to bother me, not unless she tries to get me to have sex with her."

"Lenore is suggestible too, and can be easily talked into things. Do you like to talk people into doing things, bad things, like running away or sneaking out?"

"No, but Lenore looks likes she's old enough to go out and do things. She's not my problem though, and I'm not going to try to make her do anything bad. Can I see where I would stay?" Mrs. Webb stood up, and so did Lenore, and all three of them walked up the stairs together.

"She seems very normal to me. The doctor said she acted quite well adjusted at times. Do you know if she's ever attempted suicide? The doctor said she had tendencies, but when we asked him that question he said he couldn't answer it."

"I asked Anne about that too. She said it was because she used to tell the doctors that she wished she was dead. She had a really terrible childhood and was physically abused a lot, by her family, when she was very young. When she was thirteen, she suddenly seemed to get better, and started caring for herself. She started acting very normal for a couple of years, even taking up golf, and getting very good at it. Sometime, around the time she turned fifteen, she discovered boys, sex, alcohol and drugs. I think she smoked marijuana and took some pills. Mostly she like to get drunk. She was very promiscuous for about a year, until she got pregnant with me. From what I hear, she took care of me pretty well for about a year, and then she went back to drinking. Her aunt and uncle sent her back to her mother, who drank too much herself, and the two of them pretty much stayed drunk all the time after that. It wasn't much of a life, and when I found her, my Dad and my Uncle helped her to get some medical and psychiatric care. She hasn't spent that long at the sanitarium, but she doesn't like all the people and the noise there. She wants to live someplace where it's quiet, warm, and where she doesn't have to live around too many disturbed people."

"She plays golf? Does she still play?"

"I don't think she's played in years, but maybe she'd like to take it up again. If so, I would be happy to pay for clubs, green fees and anything thing else she'd need."

"Our Lenore played before her accident, but, of course, now, we can't take her out golfing. Not with her behavior. My wife played as well, but she's been forced to give up the game too now. It is too expensive to bring someone in to watch Lenore."

"Pardon me for asking you, but why don't you set something up here in the house for her? It seems a little cruel to not let her participate, since that seems to be something the thinks about quite a bit."

"I've thought of that too, and, if it were only up to me, maybe I'd invite some older single Chief petty officers out for a few drinks, when they were in port, but Patricia would never approve. I was in the Navy for a little more than thirty three years, and it wouldn't trouble me a bit, but my wife is too refined to ever allow that."

"How often is Lenore successful in sneaking away from the house?"

"Too often. We don't hear things as well as we once could. She was gone for two nights, a little more than two weeks ago. Once, about a year ago, she got away from us for eleven days. They found her at a truck stop in San Bernardino. She was clapped up and wound up with a wicked yeast infection, but, for once, she didn't try to sneak away again for about four months. She said she'd really enjoyed herself. Fucking is one of her few real pleasures. That and those stupid cartoons she watches on the TV."

"Maybe if you convinced Mrs. Webb that it was a lot safer to invite the Chief's out here, both from danger from her being hurt, and from the standpoint of her catching Aids or something? She might not like it, but maybe the two of you can go out for dinner or something? Just tell the Chief's to make sure they keep Lenore busy for a few hours. It would be good for all three of you."

"What about Anne? What would we do with her?"

"I'd ask her what she'd like. Don't those big ships have a lot of Chief's on them? If she didn't want to stick around, you could probably drop her off at a movie or something. Most of the time, she's probably okay to do that. You need to keep her away from alcohol or drugs, but she's old enough, and capable enough, to be deciding for herself about sex, I think. If you're asking me personally, I don't have a problem with her being with somebody, not if she wants to be."

Just then the three women started coming back down the stairs. All three were smiling, which I took as a good sign. Mrs. Webb was the first to speak.

"Anne likes the room we showed her, and she wants to know if she can stay with us for awhile, to see how quiet it is. I told her it was fine with us, but that you need to make your decision too."

"The room is real nice, Kenny, and it's big too. You can see the ocean from my window. I really like that room. Would you be mad if I wanted to just stay here."

"No, Anne. I'm really happy you like it so far. We'll be here tomorrow, and I'll call over to check on how you're doing. Mr. Webb asked me if you were interested in taking up golf again. He plays, and it might be good for you to get out in the fresh air again. It's nice and quiet on a golf course."

"I don't have my clubs anymore, Kenny, and I don't have anything I could wear to play golf. You need shoes and clubs, a bag, balls. I don't have any of that."

"I didn't ask you about that. I wanted to know if you'd like to start playing again?"

"I play almost every day Anne, I'd be happy to have some company. I'm playing tomorrow morning. You can borrow Lenore's old clubs, right Baby?" Lenore didn't look happy with him asking her that. I could tell.

"Look, I'm sure it would be easier to rent her some clubs. You can buy her a pair of shoes too. Mrs Webb can take you out sometime to buy some golf clothes, Anne. You can wear that skirt you have on now, and we'll have Mr. Webb pick you out a golf shirt at the pro shop. Do you want to play some golf tomorrow?"

"Yes, thank you, Kenny. I haven't played in such a long time. I really used to like playing. I hope I still remember how to play. I can't believe it's warm enough to play golf in February."

Lenore was pouting, probably not liking it that Anne was getting all the attention her parents usually gave only to her. When I stood up to go, I gave Mr. Webb three hundred dollars to pay for green fees, rental clubs, golf supplies and shoes for Anne. I told him that we'd get together on the phone, if Anne was going to be living with them, and that I'd reimburse him for any golfing related expenses he incurred. Then, after shaking both his hand, and Mrs. Webb's I took a chance.

I went over and gave Anne a small hug, whispering in her ear that I'd call her the next afternoon, and to play well and enjoy her golfing. Then, I went over and gave Lenore one of the big hugs Mama was always giving to me. I leaned over and whispered in her ear: "Thanks for showing me your pretty pussy. It's the nicest one I've seen for a long time." I think Mr. Webb had a good idea of what I was saying, and he seemed to approve. Lenore certainly did, she was purring in my arms. When I turned around, to leave, I noticed Mrs. Webb blushing as she looked at me. Maybe her hearing wasn't as bad as Captain Webb's. I wondered if Lenore didn't have some inside help with all her sneaking away.



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Chapter 26

Back at the hotel, I took a shower, and then changed into something that I could wear comfortably, no matter where we decided to go out for that evening. I was sitting in the room, watching television, when Em and the rest came back from having their dinner. They had gone out for Mexican food, and were coming back to change to go walk on the beach.

This meant I needed to change again too. We drove over to the beach, and went for a walk. It wasn't cold, but there was a breeze blowing in, and it was a little cooler than we were prepared for. Em and I were all wrapped around each other, partly for the warmth, and partly because it just felt so good.

Gary had loped off, by himself, running down the beach at a brisk trot. Part of his regimen for getting into better shape for the next year's basketball season, or so he claimed. We thought he just didn't want to be seen with Emily and I, when we were being what he termed 'all mushy'.

Emily told me that several girls were interested in Gary now, mostly because he was one of the few freshmen with a varsity letterman's jacket. She said it was funny, watching all the freshman girls, most of them, her size, or even shorter, fawning all over him in the hallways. She said Gary wasn't even taking advantage of the opportunities all this attention was affording him.

Gary had started getting a lot more playing minutes in the second half of the season. Him learning how to become a stronger rebounder hadn't hurt his chances for getting this extra playing time. Gary had been working with one of the assistant coaches on rebounding position, and on perfecting his outlet passes after he managed to get the defensive rebounds. He was quickly becoming something of a catalyst for getting the teams fast break started. He was still something of a project for his coaches, but they were optimistic about his potential as a sophomore, junior, and senior. While he was desperately hoping to stop growing, his coaches were praying for a legitimate seven footer. So far, the coaches prayers were still being rewarded. Gary was already six eight, with no end of growth in sight. He had slowed his rate of growth though, and he found that encouraging. He wore a size fifteen sneaker though, and he thought that meant he might make it to seven feet. To him, any seven footer would automatically have achieved freak status. He didn't want to get there.

Kitty was walking behind Em and I at first, but she pulled up alongside us, asking me about the Webb's and Anne's first reaction to their home.

"She really liked the bedroom they have for her. She wanted to stay there, instead of coming back to the hotel with me. She's playing golf in the morning, and then I'll call her in the afternoon, after we get back from the zoo. They have a daughter that makes Anne seem a lot more normal. Its kind of sad really. She had an auto accident, and she had some really severe brain injuries. They managed to keep her alive, but she has some permanent damage to her brain. It affects her speech, makes her childlike, and she has very poor impulse control. She's also horny all the time. She sneaks out when she gets too horny, and this causes her parents a lot of worry."

"How old is she?"

"She looks close to forty, but she kind of acts a lot younger. She does things in public that she shouldn't."

"What things?" Emily was pulling on my arm when she asked me that question.

"Different things. I told you that she sneaks out? She finds men, and she sleeps with them. Apparently a lot of them. Her father said she sometimes like to masturbate at the dinner table, during meals. While we were visiting, she sat on the sofa, next to her father, and opened her legs while lifting her dress, so Anne and I could see her crotch. She had taken off her panties, too."

"I'll bet you had a nice long look."

"No, I turned away as soon as I thought to do it. It took awhile before I even knew what she was doing. Her father wanted me to see her doing things like that, because he wanted me to know what Anne might be exposed to. Anne just laughed. She said she'd seen people do that before, at her hospital. She told the Webb's it wouldn't bother her, not unless Lenore, that's the girls name, was wanting to have sex with her. Later when Mr. Webb told us about her liking to masturbate at the dinner table, Anne told him she didn't mind that either, just as long as Lenore wasn't going to be the one passing out the food after she did that. She asked Lenore why she didn't just wait and do that alone in her bedroom."

"What did Lenore say?"

"She told Anne to shut up."

"What does this Lenore look like?" Emily was again tugging at my arm when she asked her question. Did she think I wouldn't hear her if she wasn't pulling on my arm to get my attention?

"I'd say open and a little swollen. I saw some pink, but the curly dark hairs kept me from really getting that good a look at it." My arm felt like she'd pulled it out of its socket. "She's medium height, a little plump, and she has a lot of big scars on her forehead and on one side of her face. She's about forty years old, Em, why are you getting so upset?"

"Do you think Anne's going to enjoy staying there?" Kitty was trying to defuse my situation with Em.

"I think so, especially if she can play golf everyday. She hasn't had any chance to try to live a normal life, not for a long time. If she stays away from alcohol, she might start to get better. The doctor said a lot of her problems were caused by her lifestyle. She gets delusional at times, but he thinks that's mostly just confusion, because her brain isn't used to functioning without being under the influence of either alcohol, drugs or both. Her nerves, and her aversion to loud noise, are also symptoms that should improve in a calmer, quieter, setting. He thinks she needs time to get acclimated to a different level of living, before some of her other problems can be dealt with. He thinks she'll always be what he called 'fragile', and will need to live in a somewhat protected environment."

"Did you speak to Lenore, Kenny?" Again with the arm tug.

"I said hello to her when we were first introduced, and when I left, I gave Anne and her hugs. I told Anne to enjoy her golf, and that I'd call her tomorrow. I thanked Lenore for showing me her pussy, and then I told her it was a very nice one."

"You didn't really tell her that." This time it was another socket pulling tug.

"I did. She was getting jealous of all the attention her parents were giving to Anne, especially her father. I thought telling her that might take her mind off of being angry about the other things. She seemed to calm down after I said it. I really want Anne to fit in there, and the Webb's won't keep her, not if Lenore gets too upset by having her there."

"Emily, Ken was trying to help Anne. I'm sure he didn't mean what he told her." Kitty again tried to help me with Em.

"Em, your mom is right. Sometimes, when you see a situation starting to become unraveled, you need to step in and do something, before it becomes too serious to fix. That's all I was doing. You know I'm not interested in any other girls besides you."

We stayed out, walking on the beach until we all started getting tired, It was only ten o'clock in California, but to us, it was midnight. Unfortunately, by the time we realized how tired we were, we were a good four miles from the rental car. Gary offered to jog back to the car and drive it over to the road that ran parallel to the beach. I thought it was a good idea, and so did Emily.

The problem was, Gary didn't have a driver's license. He had taken a few driving lessons with his father, but even he admitted he really didn't know how to drive very well. Overruling Kitty's advice against him going back to get the car, I tossed him the keys, and told him we'd be waiting out along the side of the road for him to come to get us. After he had run off, back in the direction we'd left the rental car, Kitty really lit into me about my being so reckless and irresponsible.

"Kitty, you and I drive all the time, but did you want to run four or five miles back to get the car, and then have to drive back here to meet us? I didn't either, because, as far as I'm concerned, we're all here for a vacation. For Gary, who doesn't get many chances to drive, this will be a great adventure. I'll bet, if you ask him after we get back home, what his favorite thing for the whole trip was, he'll tell you it was us letting him drive the rental car by himself. He'll be careful driving too, because he'll want to show us that he did it without having any problems at all. Worst comes to worst, if he crashes, the car rental is in your name."

I had a difficult time getting loose from Em's grasp when Kitty decided to try to attack me. I was faster than her though, and, by the time we ran up to the road, Kitty had run out of steam. There was a wood and wire fence about two and a half feet high, separating the road from the start of the beach. Kitty and I sat on separate wooden poles, and Emily sat in my lap. It must have been close to an hour later that Gary slowly pulled up alongside where we were sitting. We all got back in the rental, and I drove us back to the hotel.

"Nicely done, Gary. You have any problems?"

"I got really tired from all that running, but driving wasn't hard at all. I only took so long because I had to stop for a few minutes, about halfway there, to rest, because my side hurt so bad. Other than that one stop, I ran all the way."

"It would have taken any of the rest of us three times as long to do what you did. Admit it, Kitty, I was right to send Gary."

"Just drive us back, Kenny. I can't wait to get in that hotel bed. I can't believe walking on the beach like we did can make you so tired."

"It's that sand. We should have stayed down closer to the water, where the sand is nice and firm. I'm not that tired. Not like I would have been if we'd all hiked back to the car together."

"But the water was so cold, Kenny. At least the soft sand wasn't cold. But, I'm not that tired either." Emily was sending me another message, telling me she had high hopes that some good fucking was in store for both of us, as soon as we said goodnight to both her mom and Gary.

We got back, said our quick good nights, and went into our own suite. I'm not sure what Emily was trying to prove, but she kept after me, all through the night, waking me whenever I'd doze off, spurring me on to make love to her some more. I was so tired at one point, that I didn't even bother pinning her hands or lifting her legs. She finally had to ask me to do it. I think it was around five in the morning before she finally fell asleep herself. Gary and Kitty phoned our room, waking me up at eight o'clock. Emily, of course, slept right through her phone call. I told her we were still sleeping, but she and Gary should have breakfast in the hotel dining room, or else call down to get room service. I told her I had some kind of travel lag or something, because I needed at least three or four hours more sleep. I promised we'd be ready to have some lunch, and head over to the zoo no later than one o'clock. I went back to sleep.

At twelve o'clock, Emily woke me with a blow job. I tried to push her head away from me, but that hurt her feelings, so I told her I'd only been kidding, and turned us around so I could have my breakfast too. We were both showered and dressed before one. We went to another Mexican restaurant for lunch. There were a lot of Mexican restaurants in San Diego.

The zoo was huge, and its reputation as one of the world's better zoos was probably well deserved. The thing was, none of us were really that interested in seeing a lot of different animals locked up. We had been talking about packing it in at the zoo and doing something else, when Gary asked if we could go down to Mexico. Kitty had been to Mexico before, but none of the rest of us ever had. It was only about three thirty when we decided to do it.

I found a pay phone and call over to the Webb's. Mr. Webb answered the phone, and he and I spoke for a few minutes. He said he and Anne had enjoyed a nice round of golf. She was pretty rusty, he said, but she had still made enough good shots that he was confident she'd be giving him strokes within a month. That sounded promising. I asked him to put Anne on the phone.

"Hi, Anne, Mr. Webb said you guys had a good time golfing?"

"We did. I forgot how much fun it was, and the golf course was green and nice, even in February. Jack says he plays all year round."

"Jack?"

"Mr. Webb. His name is John, but he goes by Jack. He told me to call him that. I didn't play very well, but I still had a good time. Jack has his own golf cart, and he bought me a set of used clubs, instead of just renting them. These are good clubs, but they were selling them because another member's wife had died. We're going back later, to the driving and putting ranges. We're all going, even Lenore, because she promised us she'd be good."

"Well, I just called to make sure you were still happy with staying there. We're all going down to Tijuana for the evening. I'll call you again in the morning, before we head up to Anaheim."

"We're playing golf in the morning. What time were you going to call me?" She sounded concerned. I thought she was worried that she'd have to miss golf, because she needed to wait around for my phone call.

"I can hold off, and call you from the hotel, tomorrow afternoon. Are you sure you like it there? If you're already sure, you can stay there, and I'll have your personal stuff packed at the hospital, and sent to you."

"I don't have to go back with you?" She started crying.

"No, not if you don't want to. You weren't committed to that hospital, Anne, you're a voluntary patient. All we have to do is notify them that you've decided not to return. You do want to stay where you are, right?"

"I didn't know you could do that. I didn't want to go back, but I didn't want you getting mad at me. I'm sorry. Yes, yes, I do want to stay here. I brought all my personal stuff, and my clothes with me."

"Okay then. Put Mr. Webb back on the phone, Anne. I'll talk to you again before we leave."

"Hello?"

"Mr. Webb. From what Anne was telling me, things are going great from her end. How about with you, your wife, and Lenore?"

"We've had no problems, and no more reservations about Anne. We all think she'll fit right in here. I heard Anne telling you about that set of clubs we bought. It was too good of an opportunity for us to let pass up. Anne and Lenore are starting to get along better. We think Lenore likes having someone she can share her secrets with. The only other detail for us to work out is how to set up the monthly payments for her stay. I wish we were well enough fixed that we wouldn't need to charge for her being here, but the Navy pension isn't stretching as far as we'd originally hoped it would."

"What I'll have Mr. Clooney do is to wire ten thousand dollars into your account immediately. I think he has that information from you? Then, I want you to keep track of all the extras, like golf, new clothes, going out to eat, or even going to a movie. Any entertainment items that are over and above the basic care rate that we agreed to. I'll pay those to you on a quarterly basis. I'd like to make sure she has as good a life as she can. If she needs something special, you can call me, and it will be provided, or the money for it will be sent to you"

"You are being very generous, Ken. I will do my best to make her stay here with us a pleasant one, all of us will. Pat and I are consumed with curiosity to see whether her influence over Lenore will still hold sway when we're all out at the range later. Lenore has promised Anne that she'd behave. We could never get her to promise us that, so this is a real milestone. She usually keeps her word. Not always, but usually. It would be wonderful, for my wife and I, if we could once again start taking Lenore out in public with us. We've been like prisoners here ourselves."

After I hung up, we went back to the hotel, to change into warmer clothing for the evening's trip to Mexico. From the room, I phoned Frank Clooney, asking him to wire ten thousand into the Webb's account. He told me he would be happy to do it on Monday, but it wasn't possible to get it done before then.

I drove over to the Webb's house, leaving everyone else out in the rental car, parked on the street, but the Webb's were gone. Their mailbox was one of the ones with a mail slot cut through the door, with a metal cover you had to lift to slide the mail through. I took two thousand dollars, in hundreds, and shoved it through the slot. I'd call him later, to explain why I couldn't wire funds until Monday. I had a good feeling about Mr. And Mrs. Webb, and I didn't feel I was taking any chances by prepaying for Anne's care so far in advance. They just didn't strike me as the kind of people who would take advantage.

It took us over an hour to drive to Tijuana. Once we got there, we couldn't believe all the people who were there to have fun and get drunk. It was a real party atmosphere, and a lot of the people doing the drinking looked around Gary's age. I wondered what the drinking age was in Mexico. The place we'd parked at didn't look that safe, and the whole time we were down there, I felt uncomfortable about the rental car. We ate some fish tacos, and then had some rock lobster strips at this one place. Gary and I had a bottle of beer, but Kitty and Emily stayed with Pepsi. They said it tasted different to them. I didn't care much for the beer, but, it was my first chance to buy one legally, and I didn't want to pass that up. We had regular tacos too, trying different meats inside them. Gary wanted a second beer, but Kitty told him he couldn't have it.

We were walking down a busy street at about nine o'clock, with Gary walking fifty feet or so in front of us, when he was asked by this one Mexican man if he wanted to fuck some nice girls. He was stopped, listening to the man talking, when we caught up with him. Rather than stop talking, the man just smiled at us, before going right back to describing all the things these pretty girls of his were willing to do for Gary. When no one either answered or encouraged him, he turned, and walked back to lean against a building, resuming his position, waiting for his next prospective customer.

"Damn, Gary, I don't know how you could resist his last offer." We were all laughing at Gary's reaction to the encounter he had with the Mexican pimp. "She suck your deeek for ten dollahs." Emily tugged on my arm again when I said that, and Gary blushed even brighter. "Shall we try to find the car and get back across the border? Big day tomorrow, Disneyland."

We turned back, heading the way we had come. I saw Gary negotiating to buy something. It was one of those knives that went, click, click, click and were open. I think they were called paratrooper knives or something. This one had about a seven inch blade on it. I saw Gary offering the man some money, but the man shook his head, no. I had my eye on this really large and gaudy colored sombrero. I wanted to get it for Jerry, back at school. We weren't as good friends as we'd been when I lived in the apartment at school with him, but we still spoke together often, and I'd bring him some care packages that Gerta made up for him. He'd wear this sombrero, I was sure of that.

"How much for the hat?" I held it up to the guy Gary was trying to talk into selling him the knife for five dollars.

"Twenty dollars."

"I'll pay you eight." I was smiling when I said it.

"Fifteen dollars, my best price, amigo." He was smiling now too. I knew he was smiling because I'd already offered him more than the sombrero had cost him.

"How much for the hat and that knife my friend wants to buy?"

"The knife is ten dollars, a very good price. Your friend thinks this knife is the same as the junk they selling down lower on the street."

"Yes, because it is, but you're rent is probably a lot higher here. I'm thinking I might pay you fifteen dollars for this hat, but only if you give my friend the knife for free. In the spirit of international harmony."

"Amigo, I have a wife, with seven little bambinos. I cannot make such a gesture as you ask. What I will do, because I like both of you, is sell you the fine sombrero, and this wonderful knife, for only twenty dollars. That is the best I can do."

"You sir, have touched my heart with your telling me of such a large and, I hope happy and healthy family. Because of my respect for you, and because you seem like such a nice man, I'll give you seventeen dollars for the hat and for the knife together. If you turn down this, my very best offer, I'm afraid my friend and I will have to walk back those two little blocks and buy that other man's undoubtedly inferior merchandise. We'll be stuck with junk and you'll miss out on the profit to feed those wonderful bambinos you spoke of."

"If it were mine to give, I would just hand it over to you for that sum, in friendship, and for your kind words. This is my brother's tiny shop though, and he says nineteen dollars is as low as I can go."

"Gracias, amigo, I'm sorry that we wasted so much of your time. Let's go Gary, we better hurry back there before they close."

"My brother will kill me, amigos, but I couldn't live with the guilt of sending you down there to those jackels, to buy a knife that will snap in two if you dared to test the steel with your hands, or a sombrero that looks like my fine example, but whose colors will fade, after only a few days exposed to the sun. I will take your seventeen dollars, and add to it two more of my own, so my brother does not feel like he was cheated."

He and I were laughing as we exchanged the money. I knew he was happy with our bargain. It had been a lot of fun standing there for fifteen minutes tring to get his price down. Gary was happy to pay me the two dollars that I told him was the difference between the fifteen I was willing to spend for the sombero, and what I ended up paying. Emily wore the sombrero as we walked back to the car.

Marie had told me many stories about all the haggling she had done as a young girl in Mexico, back when we had worked together in the orphanage kitchen, cleaning up after breakfasts. She claimed it was a necessary skill for me to learn to do well. We hadn't talked about much personal stuff, Marie and I, but we talked about kitchen things, and about getting good value for your money. To Marie's way of thinking, all salesmen were natural born thieves, and if you didn't force them to lower their prices for you, that meant you were just a fool who didn't deserve respect from them. Marie tried those tactics with the orphanage suppliers, having some very mixed results. She said they just didn't understand the skill involved in negotiating.

It took a lot longer to cross the border leaving Mexico, than it had for us to get in. It seemed like they had less than half as many lanes going back into the U.S. We were approached by at least a hundred people, while we waited in line to get back across. Most were selling souvenirs, but some were simply begging. A lot of women were dressed up in what resembled nun habits, but they had a red cross on their donation buckets, instead of wearing crucifixes. I think it must have been a nursing order.

Emily and Gary started buying tiny packs of chiclets gum from a few small Indian children. As soon as someone saw them giving one of the kids a coin, we were mobbed by other beggars and vendors, until we got to within a hundred yards of the border. Once we ran the gauntlet of these small vendors and beggars, it was clear sailing as the four lanes were suddenly enlarged to eight or ten. They must have shrunk down to four lanes like that as part of some plan to give the vendors more time to make their sales.

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We got back to the hotel after midnight. Emily and I made love, but only once, and then we went right to sleep afterwards. I woke up before seven, and ordered room service for Em and I to be delivered to us at eight. I called over to Kitty and Gary's room, waking Kitty up this time, to tell her to order room service also for eight, so we could be checked out and on the road before nine.

I was really looking forward to Disneyland. When I was a kid at St. Cecelia's, I'd always see these things on the television, showing families having so much fun on the rides and just walking around the park at Disneyland. Going there was going to be the highlight of my trip, I thought. For the others, they'd already been to Disneyland before. To me though, this was the realization of one of my goals I'd set as a young boy. Having Emily and her family with me would just make it that much better to me.

First, we had trouble at the Disneyland Hotel. They said they didn't have a record of our reservation to stay there. I didn't know who to call to get things straightened out. In San Diego, everything had gone smoothly. I hadn't been worried that the Disneyland part of our booking would get fouled up. I was getting ready to call Mama back home, when an older gentleman came out from an office in back, behind the registration desk.

Perhaps, I'd been a little loud when they first told me they couldn't find any record of our having a reservation. He asked what the problem was, and I told him that we had reservations, for two suites at the hotel, but the clerk had looked on his computer, and hadn't found them in their system.

"Suites, were you supposed to arrive today?"

"Yes, for one night, before we have to return to San Diego to fly back to Kansas."

"Is that for the Kenneth Parsons party?"

"We're not going to a party. We're here to go to the amusement park, that's all. Plus my Dad set it up for me to meet some of his business associates here in the morning."

"Yes sir. Ah, here it is. Someone obviously got the dates confused. Two deluxe suites on the twelfth floor, both with a view of the park, excellent accomodations, Mr. Parsons. On behalf of this hotel, and its staff, please allow me to personally apologize for any inconvenience our error might have caused you." He handed me four complimentary park day passes, asking that I accept them for my troubles.

I tried to tell him it hadn't been that much of an inconvenience, but he kept insisting that I take the passes. When he had said 'someone obviously got the dates confused', he was glaring at the desk clerk who had told me there were no reservations for us. When he mentioned 'its staff', the desk clerk looked ill. It hadn't been that long from the time the poor guy told me he couldn't find our reservations, until the other man got it all straightened out for us. I felt bad for the clerk. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten so loud.

We had gone to our rooms and checked them out, then the four of us went out and caught the Monorail directly into the park. I'd have to say I enjoyed the Disneyland experience quite a bit more than the rest of them. Before we left, I bought a lot of glass steins with Mickey Mouse or Minnie Mouse etched in them, and all our names etched in at the bottom. I got them for the four of us, and one for everyone living at our house, plus one that said 'Jerry" on it for Em's dad.

We left the park at six o'clock, not having seen anything like all of it. We'd gone on all the good rides, according to Em and Gary, at least. We changed at the hotel, then took a taxi over to the Benihana restaurant that Emily's family had eaten at when they were visiting Disneyland a few years before.

I had never had much Japanese cooking, especially the sushi things. I liked the way they had chefs right in front of you, putting on a whole act as they prepared your food. Gary and I kept ordering more things, just to watch them play with their knives. The food was great, and we ate plenty of it. We got back to the hotel a little after nine, and I placed another call to the Webb's to make sure Anne was still doing all right.

Mr. Webb had gotten the money, saying he figured it had to be from me. We laughed about that. I told him what Frank had said about sending out the money on Monday. I asked him to use the money to buy some clothes for Anne, and to get her any other items, like perfume or toiletries she might need.

Anne told me they had had another good day. She said that Lenore had behaved perfectly when they had all gone over to the practice range.

"Jack said he's invited some people over for drinks for next Wednesday. Friends of his from the Navy. He wanted me to tell you that, and ask if that's okay with you?"

"You know that you can't drink, right, Anne?"

"I know."

"I'm pretty sure he's trying to find a safe setting for Lenore, so she doesn't have to sneak out of her house to meet men."

"He asked me if I wanted to stay with Lenore, or go out to a movie with him and Pat."

"Do you know what he has in mind with these Navy friends of his?"

"I think so, to have sex with Lenore."

"So, what he was asking you was whether you wanted to stay at home with Lenore, and mayber fool around too, or if you wanted to leave and let Lenore stay with his friends."

"I'm not sure. I haven't even met his friends. Would I get in trouble if I stayed?"

"Not with me, as long as you didn't drink. If you start drinking, you won't be able to stay with the Webb's anymore. They already told you that, didn't they?"

"They just said I shouldn't drink."

"Are you on any sort of birth control, Anne?"

"I had an operation after I had you, Kenny, a tubal ligation I think they called it. I didn't want to go through another pregnancy. I knew I wasn't very strong, even then."

"I'm sure the Navy checks out their men for diseases and things, but, if you wanted to be safe, you should make them use a rubber."

"I'm not even sure I want to do that, Kenny. I don't even know them yet."

"Listen, Anne, its up to you if you do or not. I think Mr. Webb is mostly concerned with making Lenore safer than she is now. You decide, after you meet them, if you want to stay in, or go out with the Webb's. Maybe you won't want to this time, but if you find someone, or you ever do, you won't get in trouble for it. No one will yell at you, or call you any names. This is a whole different kind of place for you, and we want you to be happier here."

"Thank you, Kenny. I'm happiest just from knowing that you're doing well, and that you don't hate me. For years I thought about that, and what you must have thought of me."

"I think you've had a very hard life, and that you did the best you could. Now, I just want you to worry about yourself, about having a better life. I hope someday you and I can play golf together, and be friends."

After I put the phone down, I felt better about my decision to bring Anne all the way out to California to live. If she had been a lot closer to me distance wise, I might have spent too much time with her, and that would have meant hurting Mama. She was my real mother now, but Anne and I would always have a different kind of connection, a blood connection.



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Chapter 27

The rest of the trip went smoothly. I got up early Sunday morning, dressing and coming downstairs to the lobby to meet with the five equipment executives, or, in some cases, manufacturer's representatives. Each handed me several product brochures and sales proposals, discussing briefly the supposed advantages their product offered over the competition's.

My Dad must have told them that I had only a limited amount of time, because each one stayed talking to me for under ten minutes. At eight fifteen, I was back up in our room. Emily was still asleep. I woke her up and told her she needed to start getting ready to leave, because we were all planning on stopping off for breakfast in San Juan Capistrano on the way back to San Diego.

We were checked out of the hotel, and on the road, heading south, right at nine o'clock. Gary and Kitty had gone out by themselves, after we returned from eating the night before. It had mostly been a walk, but they did stop off and listen to some music in a lounge, at one of the convention center hotels that were about half a mile south of the Disneyland Hotel.

The big news from their night out was that Gary had met a girl that he was interested in. She was part of a girl's high school basketball team that had come to the area for a tournament. Her name was Lisa Johnson, she was only fifteen, like Gary, and she was already six feet, one inch tall.

While Kitty sat in the lounge, listening to the band, and having a glass or two of wine, Gary and Lisa had sat in the hotel lobby talking basketball.

Both were centers for their teams, and both were second string varsity as freshman. Lisa came from a small town in Minnesota, named Minneota, but she attended school in Maryland, at an all girls prep academy. Her father was a farmer back in Minneota, and her mother was dead.

They had talked together for a couple of hours, and Kitty had waited patiently for Gary to wind up his conversation with Lisa. She had never seen her son interested in any girl before. She had been completely oblivious of Gary's seduction at the hands of Brenda.

For the entire trip down to San Diego, we were forced to listen to Gary waxing poetically about this new infatuation of his. They had exchanged addresses and phone information, and Gary was already hinting that we should take a summer trip to Minnesota for something call 'Box Elder Bug Days'. I think, after hearing Gary describe all the activities, that it might well have been the social highlight of the Minnesota summer.

We were in the air before eleven o'clock, which was really one o'clock in the afternoon in Ridgeline. We stopped once to refuel, and then landed in Bolling, deplaned, and were home before eight at night. Emily asked Kitty if she could have a sleep over at my house, but, she was refused permission for that.

The trip had gone well. My father took the brochures and proposals from me, almost as soon as I came through the door. I guess he must have been running low on exciting reading material. I spent time in the library, telling everyone about the trip, describing all the Webb's, and telling them about Lenore's greeting to both Anne and I, when we had first gotten there.

Mama seemed happy that Anne was settled in California too, and probably for much the same reason that I was. When I told her that Anne had played golf again, she seemed happy for her. She told me that Anne had been an excellent junior, with almost unlimited potential, for about a season and a half, and then just quit playing, about six months before she turned up pregnant.

Monday, I was back in class, and things were back to being hectic again. I presented Jerry with his new sombrero at lunch time, having kept it in the trunk of my car until I got a chance to see him. He seemed touched that I'd brought something back from my trip for him, and asked me questions about both Tijuana and Disneyland.

Jerry had formed a new friendship with another student named Henry Stiles. Henry was not as openly gay as Nigel had been, but he was definitely a homosexual. Being a boy's boarding school, we had more of that than the public schools probably did, and one of the reasons for some of the kids being sent off to boarding school was that their sexual preferences had been embarrassing to their parents back home. I had been meaning to ask Jerry if he'd ever been with a girl. When he'd come home with me, on several weekends, he hadn't shown any interest in girls or dating. In fact, he mostly seemed interested in desserts and getting new magazines. From his selection of reading material, I had concluded that his normal bent was hetero.

While I had been gone, there had been a crisis at one of the group homes that resulted in two of the boys running away. It had started, innocently enough, with an argument among four of the boys about what TV show they were going to watch. It escalated into a pushing and shoving match that finally resulted in a table lamp being broken, and with an end table losing one of its legs. Nothing too serious, and certainly not an unexpected occurrence whenever you have six boys, all roughly the same age, living in such close proximity.

Unfortunately, the house parent father didn't agree with my assessment of the seriousness of the event. His reaction was to send all four boys to their rooms, and to suspend their television privileges for a month. Up to that point, I would have supported him.

Two of the boys, both kids who had been in St. Cecilia's, argued that they shouldn't be punished, because it was the other two who had been wrestling, and had broken the lamp and the table. Their complaints, coupled with the parent's already being upset, escalated, until one of the boys muttered a bad word under his breath. The word was bastard, and the parent reacted by slapping the boy in the face. That was a big no no in any child care situation. All of our people were told they must never strike any of the children as punishment. Not under any circumstances. Even if they were attacked by a child, they were only allowed to use restraining holds against them.

Sandy had been called in only after the two boys had run away from the home that night, Friday night. At first, both house parents omitted any mention of one of the boys having been slapped, but all of the remaining boys told her about it, when she questioned them about where the boys might have been heading. Later, Sandy got the father to admit that he had lost his temper and struck the boy. At that point, everyone knew what had to be done.

Sandy had another couple who were already licensed and approved to be house parents. She moved out the other house parents and moved in the new. The boy's social worker was called, both to notify her that the boy had run away, and to tell her about the incident that had led to the runaway.

Both boys were picked up hitchhiking, about twenty miles from Bolling. They were held until they could be picked up by their case workers and returned to their home County for temporary placement. It was a very big deal, hitting children, and there would be hearings held to determine what, if anything, should be done to prevent a repeat of this happening. We were all upset and concerned. This wasn't something that reflected well on any of us. It might have even put the whole program into jeopardy.

At this point, several children's rights advocates became involved in the process. Among the two legitimate ones, were two private practice attorneys, representing themselves as advocates for the injured or displaced children. There was one point where Sandy started threatening to quit. This was after one of the lawyers began criticising her hiring and training processes. Neither of these so called advocates had any standing with anyone. Sandy had granted them interviews, strictly as a courtesy, believing them when they claimed to represent bona fide children's advocate groups.

No one informed me of anything, not until Monday, in the early evening. By then, the house parents had been fired, the runaways found, and, inside the group home itself, some semblance of calm had been restored. All four of the remaining boys were upset over the loss of their two house parents. The new parents were caring for the physical needs of the children, but they hadn't had time to build up any emotional rapport with them. Part of the problem was that these were older children, hardened by years of shuffling in the institutional and foster care systems. They were upset because they had found a comfortable and nurturing situation, then had the objects of all that nurturing, suddenly pulled, and immediately replaced by two new people.

I drove over to Bolling to spend some time with the boys. By the time I got there, they were already playing the blame game among themselves. If Ritchie and Leroy hadn't broken the lamp, Tom and Darryl would still be living with them, and Robbie and Nadine would still be looking after them. I let them go on for awhile, trying to understand the level of upset they were feeling.

"There are always consequences, boys, always. What started out as a little thing has gotten pretty big already, and it isn't done yet. This week, each of your case workers will be coming here to discuss this with you. They'll want to know whether you want to stay here, or go to live somewhere else. We're all sorry it got to be like that, but, there isn't any sense with you four getting into more fights about who was to blame. Tom and Darryl are all right. They were picked up, and are now back in their home Counties, in temporary foster homes. Mrs. Templeton will be going over to see both boys sometime this week, and then having talks with some of the administrators of the child care system in each County. Once they talk, we'll know more about what's going to happen to the boys. They might be coming back, or they might not be."

Up until that point, I don't think it had occurred to any of the boys that their case workers might decide to pull them from our homes. I didn't want to go into it with them that our licensing might have been put in jeopardy because of the slapping incident. I didn't think it would come to that, but I couldn't be sure yet. I had heard of cases where licenses were pulled because of sexual misconduct, by some of the staff, at one home for mentally handicapped adults. I didn't know if what happened at our home would be considered as serious as that incident, or not.

On Thursday, Sandy called me to tell me she was thinking about quitting and moving back to California. She had spent four hours with those two lawyers, and the previous two days speaking to County child services administrators in each of the runaway boys Counties. I got her calmed down enough to where she promised she wouldn't make any rash decisions while she was so tired and upset.

One problem was that the administrators of one County had decided to pull the other four of their children from our program. Two of these boys were the brothers that one of our house parent couples were petitioning to adopt. Our losing those boys would be a wrenching loss to Henry and Dana Becker, the couple trying to adopt the brothers. I didn't even want to think of the impact this news would have on Jimmy and David Githens, the brothers.

I went to Mama with the problem. It was getting too complex for me to attempt to take care of by myself. She listened to everything, and then she asked me to stop for a minute, so she could get a pen and paper to take some notes.

Friday, while I was in school, Mama burned up the telephone lines, calling every state official and political power broker that she knew. I'm not certain what she told them, but, whatever it was, by the early afternoon, our problems with that one County were essentially over, and Darryl, one of the runaway boys, was being returned to our group home. The following Monday, Tom was returned to us as well. Both boys were happy to be back with us, and we were happy to see them as well.

I had talked to Frank Clooney about some of the threats those two attorneys had made to Sandy Templeton, and he was outraged by them. He wanted to file a complaint with the Kansas state bar association, but, if he did, I didn't hear of anything coming of it.

Four months after the incident, we heard from an attorney for the couple we'd fired, threatening us with legal action for a wrongful termination. Sandy spoke with the attorney, explaining everything that had happened, including him slapping a twelve year old child in front of four witnesses, and we never heard from the attorney again.

-------

In March, my father announced, at dinner, that Ron Jones, Shirley's dad had phoned him. Things were still not going that well at the carpet mill, and his home in Ridgeline still hadn't sold. While not coming right out and asking my father if he had a place open for him, Mr. Jones had spent fifteen minutes asking how the new sales plan was working out.

"I'm nearly certain that he'll be calling me again soon, Kenny. I think he's about ready to give up on that job in South Carolina. I'm sure he's had feelers out for other mill jobs, but I understand the labor and competition situation is pretty standard for that whole industry."

"I told Shirley what you said about being ready to hire him back."

"I'd be happy to do so. I'm worried about how that would affect you in your own personal situation. We haven't heard you mentioning Shirley of late, and you and Emily seem to have finally settled down somewhat. How would her returning here affect your relationship?"

"I hope it wouldn't affect it at all. I'm with Emily now. Shirley's been gone for a long time, and we've both had other relationships since she left. She hasn't called for awhile, not since I told her that Emily and I had an understanding, and that was back in December. I think you shouldn't worry about Shirley and me. Just hire him back if you can."

A few days later, Mr. Jones called again, and my dad offered him his old job back. He told us that Mr. Jones was ready to accept as soon as my Dad made him the offer. They agreed that Mr. Jones would start work on the first of April.

I called Emily right after dinner was done, the night my Dad told us that Shirley and her parents were moving back to town.

"You want to get together tonight?"

"Sure, what do you want to do?"

"We can go over to the diner again, or go for a drive. Whatever you feel like doing."

"Good. I want to go to your Uncle's house so we can make love."

"I'm ready. When should I come get you?"

"Come now. I need to be home by ten, and it's already almost eight."

I went over to pick her up, trying to decide how and when to tell her about Shirley moving back to town. I was expecting her to ask me a few questions about it, but I thought she'd be satisfied when she heard all my answers. I saw this as more of a problem for me, having to tell Shirley, after she got back, that it was Emily and I now. I decided I'd tell her in the car, on the way over to Uncle Bunny's house. That way, we wouldn't have to waste any of our time, at the house, talking about Shirley.

I kissed her when she came out and got into my car. I told her how nice she looked, and how happy I was that we were going over to Uncle Bunny's house to be alone together.

"My father hired Shirley's father back. He's going to start work in April."

"Are you dumping me, Kenny?"

"No! Don't even think that. I was just letting you know that she was coming back, and that's all. That won't have any effect on you and me. None. I'll tell her, the first time I see her again, that you and I are together now. She already knows we are, but I'll tell her that we love each other, and that we want to stay together. She'll understand."

"Suppose she doesn't understand? Suppose she wants it like it was?"

"Emily, it's you and me. That's how it is now, and that's how it's going to be. Don't give it any more thought. I just wanted you to know, that's it."

"My Dad called us. He's still in Italy, but he needs to go to Switzerland. He says everything is going really well. He sounded excited about the book again. He told mom that he has a lot of ideas for making the book better. He's written a whole new outline he said, and he has twenty or thirty pages of new notes every day. He says he's flowing again. I heard my mom telling him to try not to take too long with his research. She's getting pressure from his publishers again. Now, he's almost two years late with the book."

"I don't know much about writing, but, if he's writing twenty or thirty pages a day, he should be done pretty soon."

"No, those are just his notes. He'll come home and spend a whole day writing five or six paragraphs. He keeps going back and changing things after too. It takes him a long time just to write one chapter. That's what Mom is so worried about. The more research he does, the longer it will take him to decide what goes in and what stays out. When I was about eleven, he sent in three chapters to his editor to look at for him. This was when his books were selling pretty good too. The editor took the three chapters, and she condensed it all down to one single page, and sent it back to him. He was so mad at her, that he wouldn't send her anything else for a year."

We finally got out of the car and walked over to the front door. I noticed, by my watch, that it was already eight thirty. I hoped we weren't going to spend the rest of our time together having a literary discussion. Sometimes, Emily and I both got too easily sidetracked with other things.

As soon as we were inside the house though, Emily headed straight for the bedroom. It turned out to be one of those times when I really needed to restrain her. She was really passionate, and, several times, when she was cumming, I really had to work to keep her legs and arms subdued. Later, when we were in the shower together, Emily started crying softly.

"Promise me you won't fuck her again without telling me you're going to do it first."

"I'm not going to fuck her. I already told you. You're the only one I love, or even want to fuck. Please, don't do this to yourself."

"If you do fuck her, without telling me first that you're going to, I swear, I'll do something to get even with the both of you."

"Em, this is crazy talk. I love you. I'm sure I'll have to see her a few times, because her dad works for mine, and also because we're still friends, but I promise you, I have no interest in starting anything up with her again. You'll be seeing more of her than I will."

"Why didn't you ask your dad not to hire her father back?"

"Because her father's a very good manager, and he makes our company better by working for us. Shirley is a friend, and that's all she is to me now. You need to just believe that and trust me."

"Promise me that you'll tell me first."

"If I do that, it would be admitting that I thought it was possible that I would want to fuck her again. Instead, I promise that I'll tell you if I ever start to think it's possible that I might want to fuck her again, but that's all I'm promising. If I tell you it's possible, after that I'll promise to tell you before I fuck her."

She turned around so that we were facing each other, and she threw her arms around me, hugging me close to her.

"Please don't fuck her, Kenny." I promised her at least twenty times that I wouldn't. When I got her back to her house, I kissed her for ten more minutes, reassuring her, between kisses, that she was all I wanted, and that nothing was going to change that. I saw that even this hadn't reassured her like I'd intended.

"Em, remember I told you about that dream I had before. The one I think was a dream about my future? Shirley wasn't even one of the girls in that dream. I know I'm destined to marry one of two girls from that dream, and Shirley isn't one of them."

"That was just a dream."

"No, it was more than just a dream. At least it was to me. If you want to worry about anyone, you should be worried about Joyce. I'm almost certain that I'll end up married to one of you two."

"Are you fucking Joyce again?"

"No, she was just the other one in the dream. I was trying to go to you, to ask you to marry me, but Mama kept pushing me towards Joyce in the dream."

"I don't believe in dreams being accurate predictors of the future. I'm worried about Shirley, not Joyce so much. You better not fuck either of them though, not without telling me, so we can break up first."

Emily had been upset, really ever since I'd told her in the car that Shirley was moving back. I didn't know why she was so worried about Shirley. It was as if she didn't believe what I'd been telling her.

That night, while I slept, I had another dream. In this dream, Emily, Joyce and Shirley were all present, all pregnant, and all really mad at me. I was trapped in a big room with them, easily able to outrun them, but unable to escape from the room. In the dream, Mama came in, carrying a shotgun, and fired both barrels at someone. When I turned around to look to see which of the girls she'd shot, it was my father who was lying there, in a pool of his own blood. I could see, right away, that he was dead, and then all three girls went over to his body and started hugging and kissing him, while Mama and I looked on.

It was about four o'clock when I woke up. I was very upset about that dream. It was so improbable as to be close to impossible. My father had undergone a vasectomy years before, for one thing, and it just didn't seem possible to me that he would fool around with any of those girls, not given the type of man he was. This dream had been just as powerful as my other one though. If I didn't believe this one was true, then why should I believe in the other one? I got cleaned up and dressed, before heading off downstairs to the kitchen.

"Gerta, do you ever have really strong dreams? The kind you remember all the details to, even after you wake up?"

"Not so often lately, Kenny, but, when I was young, like you, I had some like that. Scary dreams?"

"I've had two now, in the last few months. The first one wasn't scary, but the one I just had sure was. Did any of the dreams you had ever come true?"

"One did, but not the rest. I dreamed that I was being raped, but I got away before he could finish. This was before I ever met Hans. I was young then, when I dreamed it, maybe thirteen, but not more than fourteen. It was a very real dream and I remembered it for a long time before I forgot it. When I was seventeen, we lived on this Army base, while my mother's husband was waiting to retire from the Army. I was dating a few boys, mostly young boys, stationed there at the base. It was all very innocent."

"I believe you." I said it, but smiling like I really didn't. Just my way of teasing her.

"Cokes over at the BX, or bowling at the base bowling alley. My mother was always strict, telling me that I couldn't go off with boys in their cars. This one time, I didn't listen to her, because I liked this boy, and he asked me to ride with him, into the town outside the base. Always before, I listened to my Mama, but this one time, I'm thinking that I know this boy, and there's not so much harm in riding with him for an hour or so. I was also a little excited at the prospect of being alone with him, possibly even doing some kissing, but I never thought of doing more than that. A few, innocent kisses, that was all."

I could see that Gerta was still upset by what happened over forty years before. I stopped kidding with her.

"Gerta, you don't need to tell me this. I'm sorry for teasing you."

"No, it was a long time ago. It's just that rape is a terrible thing, Kenny. Just now, while we were talking, I could remember how afraid I was. We stopped, on the way back from where he had to go, because there were all these little turnoffs on the road back to the base. At first, it was only kissing, but when I told him to stop, that we had to get back before Mama found out I'd disobeyed her, he started overpowering me. He held me down, and, though I tried to move him off me, somehow, he managed to stick it in me, and it hurt me when he did that. That pain was what I needed to make me even stronger, so that I could get my hands free, and start hitting at him. I managed to open the car door, and throw myself backwards, out of his car. I landed in the dirt outside. I got up and started running back to the main road. A couple stopped and gave me a ride to my house on the base."

"Did they arrest the guy?"

"No. I told Mama what he did to me, but she said it was what I deserved for not obeying her."

"Wow, your mother was pretty mean, I think."

"Her new husband though, he wasn't like my Mama. He was a very quiet man. My mother had a big temper, but not him. He asked me some questions about the boy, like did I know which company he was in. About a week later, Mama, Phillip, that was my new father's name, and I were driving somewhere on base, and I saw Gerald walking, Gerald was the name of the boy who raped me. I must have yelled or something, because Phillip pointed at Gerald and asked me if he was the one. I nodded, and he got out of the car, and they fought. When it was over, the fight, Phillip just got back into the car, and we drove to wherever we were going. Mama never said anything to him, and when I said thank you to him, for sticking up for me like that, he never said anything to me about it. Before he did that for me, I wasn't sure if I liked him very much. After that day though, he was like my Papa, to me. That was the only strong dream that ever came true."

I told her about my two dreams, and she just listened. When I was finished, she told me the dreams both had the girls in them being pregnant. She thought that was what the dream was telling me. She said I'd make at least one of those three girls pregnant. I was halfway to school before I thought about the fact that Gerta and Mama talked about everything. Telling my dreams to Gerta was almost the same as telling them directly to Mama.



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Chapter 28

Shirley called me on the seventeenth of March. They were leaving South Carolina the next morning, and would be in Ridgeline, sometime on the twenty-first. During that conversation, I made it very clear to her that Emily had big reservations about what would happen when she got back, but that I had already made my choice to stay with Emily.

"When I get back, we can have a nice talk, and then you can decide, Kenny. I have a lot I want to tell you."

"I already did decide. If you come back with the attitude that I haven't decided yet, Emily is going to stay worried. I don't want that."

"It sounds to me like you're worried too, but I don't want to argue with you about it. Not over the phone anyway. My mother and I are so excited to be coming back to Ridgeline again. Daddy isn't so excited, but he knows it's for the best."

"My Dad's excited too. He showed me this new idea he has for making national distribution easier. He wants to use railway hubs, shipping to eight different way points first, and then re-shipping from there, as needed. He thinks it will increase product freshness, and allow our sales people to order for their immediate needs only. He thinks it will be a good selling point, and will make it easier for us to compete with the local competition. He wants your dad to go to work training people to open up the larger regional grocers for us."

"I don't care about any of that, Kenny, it's boring. Tell me more about Emily. Does she take care of you as well as I did?"

"Shirley, one of the things I liked best about you, before, was that you listened to what I told you. Em's my girlfriend now. We're very happy together. All you can accomplish is to make it impossible for you and I to be friends. Is that what you want?"

"No. Will I see you Saturday? We should be home in the afternoon sometime."

"Not Saturday, unless you come to the club for the dance. Em and I might get back in time for that. We'll be in Bolling all day, taking some of the boys to the flea market. I'll probably see you during the week, after you get all settled in. I'm busier now than I was before. With school, my family, Emily, and the group homes, I just don't have that much free time anymore. This is the first time we even talked to each other in four months, so another few days isn't going to really matter."

"Are we even going to be friends? It doesn't sound like it from the way you're talking."

"It would be easier to think about us being friends if I knew you respected the fact that Emily and I are together now. From the way you're talking, its going to be hard for us to be friends."

We talked some more, with Shirley making an effort not to get me any more riled up about what we had discussed earlier. The way I looked at it, she was the one who left, not me. I wasn't going to be made to feel guilty, just because circumstances came up that brought her back to town. She hadn't bothered calling me for four months. If her father hadn't decided to take his old job back, I probably wouldn't have even heard from her again.

Not only did I not want to feel guilty, I didn't want to be forced to deal with the pressure of constantly having to reassure Emily that I wasn't interested in getting back with Shirley.

I called Emily after I finished talking to Shirley. We talked for fifteen minutes before she asked me if I wanted to come over and take her to Uncle Bunny's house. It was six fifteen, and dinner was being served at seven. I told her I hadn't eaten yet, and she asked me if I couldn't skip a meal to be with her. I went into the kitchen and had Gerta make me a cold cut sandwich. We were having roast beef, and I asked her to please save a plate for me. I told her I'd be back home around ten o'clock or so.

Em and I had 'worry sex'. Whenever she worried about me leaving her for someone else, she became more passionate for some reason. It wasn't better for me though, only for her. I had my hands full at those times, trying to prevent her from scratching, biting, or kicking me. After 'worry sex', we always had her being insecure, and me having to reassure her that she was worrying without having any reason for it.

Even with these kinds of worries and fears, Emily and I were getting along better than we ever had before. She was coordinating things with Joyce, and she and Mama were working together on sending out fund raising mailers to all the people on Mama's contact lists. Emily had composed the letter, then she spent some time with both Mama and Joyce, making changes to it.

I had given Emily my old Cadillac, because I had decided to buy myself a new one. I bought an El Dorado coupe, and really loved the quietness of the ride. Convertibles are okay, but they are noisy, and they are cold also, in the winter, even with the heater turned all the way up. My new car had a baby blue paint job, with a white leather interior.

Emily was doing any necessary driving that either Mama or Joyce needed done. She was also taking Gary and her to and from school, which made her get home a few minutes earlier than before, when she and Gary both walked. Mrs. Carstairs hadn't said anything about me giving the car to Emily.

Emily had asked me if I could let her borrow another ten thousand dollars. She said her mother didn't want to worry her father about cutting short his research, but, between his expenses overseas, and the rest of the family's at home, the twenty five thousand I'd loaned her father wasn't going to be enough. I went to Frank and got a check made out to Mrs. Carstairs and gave it to Emily for her mother.

I wasn't troubled in the slightest way about giving her the money. If they needed it, I wanted them to have it. I had far more than I needed, and, I would have willingly given her a lot more, if she had asked me for it.

Mama spoke to me about it after I had given Emily that second check. Once I told her what was happening, as far as Emily's family finances went, she simply nodded to me, and said nothing more about it.

Mama already had all seven sessions of the upcoming golf academy season fully subscribed. She was turning new applicants away daily. She had issued twenty one fully paid scholarships, in Uncle Bunny's name, to young female golfers who had applied, but were unable to afford the high tuition and living expense.

My Dad was traveling all over the country, meeting with new clients for our company's products. In a lot of cases, the top man just wanted to meet the top man from the new supplier. Dad called it two dogs sniffing each other's butts.

The building for the four homes over by Holton was already begun. We had cleared most licensing hurdles, and no one saw any problems with having our use permits approved, since there were no neighbors within a mile of where we were locating our homes. I found out, by accident, that Hans, Gerta, and Mama had formed a small partnership to locate and purchase land in the areas where we were putting up our group homes. They never gave me the reason why they were doing this, but I knew they had some plan.

Saturday morning, Emily and I drove over to Bolling at five in the morning. The flea market opened at six, and we had promised the four boys we were taking, that we'd be there when it first opened. For most of the boys, having their own, spendable, money was a new experience. Emily had come up with the idea of taking four of them shopping at a time. I don't think she was thinking about garage sales, flea markets, or outdoor auctions. We provided transportation and supervision, and the boys walked around, looking everything over carefully, before parting with any of their precious money.

Emily and I bought a few things too. We bought two tee shirts. One had DUMMY printed on the front, and the other one had, I'M WITH DUMMY printed on it. Emily thought this was pretty funny, until later, when she discovered that I had gone back and gotten the sales clerk to make the DUMMY one be a size small, and the I'M WITH DUMMY be the large one.

Driving home, I asked her about going to the club for the dance, but she said she'd prefer that we went over to Uncle Bunny's house instead. I knew she was putting off our seeing Shirley for as long as she could, but, I understood why she wanted to do that. I had been worried about seeing her too.

It wasn't because I was worried about how I'd react to seeing her again, because Emily was prettier than Shirley was. I was afraid that Shirley or Emily might provoke some type of confrontation, and I wanted to avoid doing that if we could.

Making love to Emily that night was both sweet and tender. It was a gentle giving that Emily insisted on doing for me. It involved a lot of kissing and cuddling when I was inside her. The object wasn't to have the strongest cum, but to prolong our connection. It was enjoyable and different, and I understood this was Emily preparing, in case her worst fears were realized. This was almost like her saying goodbye to me. I stayed in bed with her, holding her tightly, kissing her and letting her know that being there, alone with her, was exactly where I wanted to be.

At eleven, I got Emily to call her mother, to tell her she was going to spend the night with me. I wanted her focused on a different problem than the one Shirley obviously presented her with.

At first, her mother absolutely forbade Emily to spend the night with me. Emily persisted though, arguing logically that there wasn't any reason for her mother to refuse to allow it. Her mother finally asked Emily to put me on the phone.

"Ken, you know this is going to cause me all kinds of problems with Jerry. Why do it now? This just isn't worth what you'd be getting by having your way."

"Emily is worried, and I know she'll be less worried, and sleep better, if she's sleeping next to me. You know why she's worried, and this will help her with that."

"What about her father? He won't like finding out that I've allowed this."

"I don't know what to tell you. You're Emily's mother. You know I'm right about this being better for her. Tell him that you were right here and made the decision you thought was best for your daughter. It might never come up. He doesn't call this late anyway, I'll bet. If he calls in the morning and asks for Emily, tell him she spent the night with a friend. If he asks the friend's name, then tell him it was me."

I handed the phone back to Emily, watching her face light up with a relieved smile. I'd told Mama, on Friday night, that I might decide to sleep over at Uncle Bunny's house on Saturday.

She hadn't asked me who I would be sleeping with. She knew Shirley was due back in town, so she probably assumed I'd be with Emily. When it came to me, Mama was an excellent predictor of what I'd do. I turned off the lights, and Emily and I slept in each others arms. In the morning, she and I went over to my house, and Gerta served us both some German crepes, filled with fruit compote, and smothered with sour cream and whipping cream both. We both ate our fill. After, Emily surprised me.

"Can we go see her together, now?"

"Shirley?"

"Yes. I'm ready for it now. I want to be there when you see her again this first time. I know, from what you've told me, that she still wants to get back with you. I want to see how you react to seeing her again."

"All right. Should we try to call her first? I don't know if her phones are turned back on yet."

"Let's just drive over to see her. If she's home, it will seem more natural that we were out driving, and decided to drop by and say hello."

"Let's go out driving then, and, if we think of it later, we'll stop off to see if she got back okay."

"That's what I already said."

"No, but it doesn't matter that much anyway." I thanked Gerta for the wonderful breakfast, and Emily and I walked outside to get into my car. I started driving us out in the opposite direction, away from her house and Shirley's."

"Kenny, this isn't the way."

"It's one way, especially if you want to head down to the baseline road."

"I thought we were going over to Shirley's house?"

"You want to go there now?"

"Yes. That's what I've been telling you."

I turned around as soon as I had a driveway to pull into, and drove back in the direction we'd just came from. When we got to Emily's house, I told her to go inside and tell her mom that she and I were going over to Shirley's, for a visit. I figured if Mr. Carstairs called home after this, Mrs. Carstairs could honestly tell him that Emily had gone off somewhere with me this morning.

Emily came running back out, fifteen minutes later, having changed her outfit in the meantime. We set off again, this time directly for Shirley's house. I saw both of their cars parked in the driveway. It seemed strange to see them parked there again. We parked on the curb, and walked up the driveway together, holding each other's hand. We rang the door bell and waited.

Shirley came to the door, and I saw someone tall, standing there, behind her. I assumed it must be her father, or even one of her brother's, but I wasn't paying attention, because I was too busy looking at Shirley's stomach and much larger breasts. She was pregnant, and from the size of her, I'd guess that she was at least five or six months along.

"Kenny! You came. This is my fiance, Clay Burrows. Hi Emily. It's so good to be back home again!" She pointed to the person I'd noticed standing behind her when she first opened the door. "Come on in. We just got done eating, are you hungry?"

I looked over at Emily, and she had such a happy smile on her face, I was almost as relieved as she was.

"When are you due, Shirley?" Emily asked her this, like it was the most normal question that could be asked. I would have never thought to ask such a question.

"Not until around the beginning of July. I hate being so big already, but it sure was nice finally getting something up on top. I never expected Clay to drive all the way here from Orangeburg. He bought my mother's car, right before we left, but I had no idea that he bought it just to follow after me. Don't you think that's romantic?"

Clay had a simpleton's grin plastered on his face. It was pretty easy to see that he really had a bad case of love for Shirley. I was trying to think back to our last phone conversation. Shirley hadn't mentioned Clay. From what she'd said then, I had the distinct impression that she wanted to get back together with me.

"Have you two set a date yet?" Again, it was Emily asking another one of those too personal questions that I wouldn't have been caught dead asking.

"No. He just got here about an hour ago. He only asked me to marry him about ten minutes before you guys got here. He doesn't want me to have the baby without being married. I told him I'd probably marry him, but only if Kenny decides he doesn't want to marry me himself."

"Congratulations, Clay. I want to wish you and Shirley all the best." I reached over, past Shirley, offering my hand for him to shake. Shirley reacted as if I'd slapped her face when I did that. I watched her as Clay happily took my proffered hand and shook it mightily. That wasn't what I'd meant by what I'd said, or by my offering to congratulate him.

I'd already told Shirley that I was with Emily now. Her saying what she had, in front of Clay and Emily, hadn't been very nice. I was giving her the answer she had to have been expecting from me. Did she really think I'd want to marry her, just because she was pregnant, and didn't really want to marry her baby's father?

"You don't want to marry me? For real?"

"No. I already told you. We've both moved on. I'm with Emily, and she makes me very happy. You have Clay."

"I want you, Kenny. I've always wanted you."

"Clay, please forgive us barging in like this and spoiling your happy moment. We just stopped by to say hello to an old friend. I wouldn't pay too much attention to what Shirley's saying right now, not if I was you. Anyway, Emily and I need to get moving. I hope we'll see more of you two in the very near future. Shirley, I'm sorry you felt like you wanted to say what you just did. I hope you'll realize how hurtful that was to Clay and Emily, and that you'll apologize to them both. Doing things like you just did, isn't the way to having the two of us being friends again."

"Kenny, you can't just come see me after nine months, and then leave five minutes later. We have to talk about things. We need to decide about our whole future."

"I did decide, Shirley, and you weren't in my future. At least not the way you sound like you wanted to be. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon. Think about what I just said. We can only be friends if you'll accept what I've been telling you."

-------

We had gotten back in the car and driven away. Emily had the giggles about everything that had happened during our short visit. From her standpoint, the visit couldn't possibly have turned out better. Having Shirley pregnant, and engaged to someone else, was about as good as it was going to get. While I didn't share her glee, I was relieved that Emily's totally unfounded fears had been removed. Now, at least, we could get back to normal.

"Kenny, we have to help her. She shouldn't have to marry that boy. Not if she doesn't really love him."

"Are you crazy? He loves her, and half of that baby is probably his. Let them work it out together. Don't interfere. I don't understand why you think we should get involved in this. I thought you'd be relieved that Shirley was out of the picture now?"

"Relieved? Why should I be relieved? She already told all of us back there that she still loves you. Nothing is going to change that. I know that for a fact. That doesn't change me knowing that we have to help her. We can't just sit by and do nothing to help her."

"You might not be able to, but I sure can. I don't want to be involved with any of it. If you want to help her, then go right ahead. You'll have to do it by yourself though, because it isn't something I'd be comfortable doing. I don't like interfering like that. Go ask Mama to help you. She lives to get involved with things like this. My life is already too much like a soap opera. I was hoping, now that we've both seen Shirley, that we could go right back to the way things were with us."

"If we wanted to be selfish, we could possibly do that. Can't you imagine what all this has been like for her? She needs our support. If she wanted to spend her life with that boy, she would have stayed back in South Carolina. She left to get away from him. If she loved him, she wouldn't have talked to you like that, not in front of him."

"I'm done with this. You do whatever you think is right, but, don't involve me in any of it. I'm surprised that you even want to get involved, but, that doesn't mean I do. I have too many other things I'm trying to juggle right now. I won't be part of any of this, so don't bother asking me."

We ended up back over at Uncle Bunny's house, having what I can only call 'relief sex'. This was good sex, both passionate and loving. We went to our homes at five o'clock, both feeling better than we had before the weekend started. I had meant what I'd told her about not wanting to get involved with any of it. My mistake was in telling Emily to get Mama involved in Shirley's plight. Had I stopped to consider my Dad's earlier warning to me, I'd never have opened my mouth.



-------

Chapter 29

I didn't see or hear from Shirley for a week. I knew that Emily was in contact with her though, and my mother had asked me several questions about whether I knew what Shirley's plans were. I always answered that I didn't know her plans, and wasn't interested in getting involved in any of that mess.

Mama seemed a little sad at my attitude concerning Shirley's plight. I knew that she kept bringing Shirley's name up for a reason, and I didn't want to give her any excuse for getting me involved.

Emily and I had visited together over at Uncle Bunny's house twice in the week since we'd gone over to Shirley's house together. The first time, she brought up Shirley's situation to me, until I told her to either drop it or else I was taking her home. She stopped talking about Shirley. The second time, she called me, promising not to talk about anything, if I'd pick her up and take her over to Uncle Bunny's again.

She kept her end of the bargain and we had a nice time together, making love and talking about how the plans for the new girl's modular extension were progressing. Not only didn't she bring up Shirley's name, she really didn't seem interested in discussing anything about that with me. I started hoping that we had reached an accommodation that all of us could live with.

It was Sunday morning, the twenty ninth of March, when I saw Shirley again. She and Emily had driven over to my house, so that Shirley and Mama could enjoy a nice chat together. I said hello to Em and Shirley, but when Shirley started right in, talking to me about how she had sent Clay back to South Carolina, I excused myself from the three of them, and heading back upstairs for my bedroom. Emily got up from where she was seated, following me up the stairs.

"Kenny, what is your problem? You were barely polite to Shirley. Couldn't you see how desperate she is? All she wants is for you to be nice to her. All you had to do was let her finish getting out what she wants to tell you. You cut her off before she was even half finished speaking with you."

"Emily, I'm not interested in hearing what she has to say. I asked you to leave me out of this, but I can see you've decided not to listen. You're going to keep fooling around with this, and it's going to have a very bad impact on our relationship. I don't like people telling me what I should be thinking, or telling me what I have to do. I think for myself, and I do what I think is right, for me. I want you to go back downstairs now. I'm upset with you, and I don't want to have this blow up into something bigger than it needs to be."

"Are you going to start dismissing me too, the same way you're treating Shirley? I thought you told me that you were over this thing you had about you always needing to be the boss?"

"I've already told you I didn't want to get involved with Shirley's situation. I don't happen to share your concern for Shirley's pregnancy, or for what her feelings towards Clay might be. I didn't want to get involved with whatever she and Clay need to work out. If that makes me bossy to you, then I guess I am still needing to be the boss. Not of you though. I'm not telling you what you should do about Shirley. You can do whatever you want to, as long as you don't try to include me in whatever plan you come up with. If you can't accept that, then maybe you and I will need to go our separate ways too."

I opened my bedroom door and walked inside, letting the door close behind me. I didn't throw my lock though. If she wanted to keep this thing going, I was going to let her. I had gotten mad by then myself. I waited, halfway between the door and my bed, but Emily didn't try to open my door.

It was an hour later before Mama came up and knocked on my door. She told me all about how I'd gotten both Shirley and Emily upset. She too told me I'd been rude to Shirley when I'd gotten up and left them, while Shirley was still speaking to me.

"Mama, I already told Emily, a bunch of times, that I don't want to get involved in Shirley's situation. I'm telling you the same thing. The only reason Shirley's acting like she is now, is because she's being encouraged to do so. She was ready to marry that other boy, but she wanted to see if I'd take her first. It was like she thought his offer was okay, but maybe she'd get a better one from me. I told her I wasn't interested in making any offer to her. Emily's taking up for Shirley now, because she has some romantic ideas that Shirley shouldn't have to marry a boy she doesn't love."

"I agree with Emily about that."

"That's fine. You have a right, to think however you want to. I have a right to think what I want also, and to not get involved in this, if I don't want to. I've already said that I don't want to be involved."

"You needn't shout, Kenny. You're a little upset, and I can understand that. Emily and I both know how much Shirley meant to you. We're both afraid that what you are now doing will cause you future regrets, needless suffering, and anguish. It isn't in your nature to be unfeeling, or uncaring like this."

"Maybe not, but, you know what? It is in my nature to be resentful when people keep trying to meddle in my business, especially after I've asked them, repeatedly, not to do it. You and I have gone through this before, with Brenda, and you know what happens when you try to push me about things like this. Emily might not understand this, but you do. I won't be pushed, pulled, or prodded over Shirley. Not by you, not by Emily, and certainly, not by Shirley."

"Kenny, please don't say I'm meddling. I'm trying to make sure you don't make a mistake you'll end up regretting."

"There are some things I just won't be pushed over. This is one of those things. I've asked you to quit, and you haven't. What is it that you and Emily think I should be doing?"

Mama opened her hand, showing me the ring that I'd given to Emily.

"Emily is very upset that you shouted at her, and that you've been refusing to listen to either her or Shirley. Kenny, you can't always do what you want to do. Sometimes, you need to listen to what people around you are trying to tell you."

I reached over to Mama's open palm, taking the ring from her. I looked at it, realizing, as I did so that Emily had decided to accept my offer for us to go our separate ways. I was surprised by this, but not very convinced that she really meant it. She had been upset, and she'd calm down after awhile.

I had a lot going on in my life. I didn't really want to have to deal with breaking up with Emily too. It looked like I was going to be forced to make another big decision. This refusal of mine to want to get involved in Shirley's problems had taken on a greater significance. I saw it as a question of people not respecting my right to make choices for myself.

If we had been arguing over Emily's rights, and I'd been trying to prevent her from helping or befriending Shirley, I'd have felt differently about the way I'd acted. The way it was, I didn't see how I could justify giving in to her about this. I meant justify it to myself, not to anyone else. As much as I wanted things to stay the way they were with Emily, before this problem, I couldn't accept her being able to dictate my choices to me.

I took the ring and put it in my top drawer of my nightstand.

In five more months, I'd be traveling to South Bend to begin college. Emily and I would have been separated at that time, for at least a school year, because she was a year behind me in school. We hadn't really talked about it, but it was there, and both of us realized that it was.

To a much lesser degree, I was also going to have to deal with being separated from my family, after I left for college. I'd be coming home periodically, but I wasn't going to be living at home like I had been for this past school year.

The group homes were another big concern of mine. Everything I did now, as far as finances, I could accomplish in South Bend, just as easily. I'd miss the personal contact with the boys and the staff, but, there was really no way I could expect to participate with them when I was living so far away.

Of all those things, the one aspect that troubled me the most was that I was going to be leaving lots of disappointed people behind when I left. I knew I'd disappointed Mama, with the things that I'd said to her. Emily was the same. She had wanted me to follow her lead, but I hadn't been willing to. She had this funny streak that was somewhat like mine. She never wanted to let something go if she thought she was right. I wasn't sure I was right, but I felt pretty strongly that I wasn't willing to back down from my position.

At two o'clock, I went downstairs to see about getting something to eat. Gerta and Hans were sitting at the kitchen table, talking, when I walked in. Seeing me, they stopped talking. This made me think they were talking about me.

"I came down to see if there's any lunch left for me."

"I made soup, but that's all. No one was hungry for any lunch. You want some soup and some bread and butter?"

"No, I'll just go out and get something at the club. I want to go hit some golf balls anyway."

I hadn't played any golf in a long time. Too busy. It's funny that we stop doing the things we used to like the most. I didn't remember the last time I'd played golf with my parents. I thought about asking Mama if she wanted to come with me, to hit some balls together, like we used to, but then I decided that I really wanted to be alone, so I could think.

It was a nice day out. A little chilly, but you could tell that it was almost time for spring again. There was the beginning of a different smell in the air. I bought a cheeseburger and fries at the club, eating it alone, and remembering my first cheeseburger there, the day Uncle Bunny came to get me from the orphanage. My life had changed so much in the almost three years since that had happened. I was a different person. I wondered if I was better, or just different. I knew a lot more now, and I was able to allow myself to feel so much more than I did before. I was missing things now, things that I didn't really know existed before Uncle Bunny came for me.

Peace was something I knew about now, that I'd never remembered experiencing before leaving St. Cecilia's. Comfort was something else I expected now, but something I hadn't really understood back in my orphanage existence. Stubborn willfulness was something I'd known before, and it was still present in me as I sat there in the club restaurant. There was a difference between then and earlier though. I'd been stubborn and willful, because that was what I believed I needed to survive at St. Cecilia's. I had retained those traits, even though I knew they were no longer necessary in my day to day existence.

I wound up hitting two jumbo buckets of balls. That's over five hundred balls in total. It was tiring, but it felt good after I got into a smooth rhythm. It was something simple that I could do. Something that didn't require a lot of thought or worrying over. I drove straight home, after eating yet another quick sandwich at the club.

I still had class preparation work to do, and I wanted to be sure I was prepared for a mid term that was coming up during that week. I barely heard Joyce calling me.

"Kenny, let me in."

I went over and opened the lock and turned the handle to let her come in. She walked past me, heading over to sit on my bed. I followed her back there, careful not to sit too close to her. I was expecting some more of the same from her. I was planning on telling her what I'd already told Mama and Emily.

"I hear you've been busy, Kenny. Emily called here while you were gone. She told me that you broke up with her."

"I didn't break up with her. I gave her choices, and the one she picked was that we break up."

"Mama's in her room, crying. She says that you've changed. She doesn't think you love her anymore."

"She's right, I have changed. She's wrong about me not loving her though. Just because I'm tired of her meddling, that doesn't mean I don't still love her. She thinks Emily's right, that I should do what she wants me to do about helping Shirley."

"You should go tell her you love her, then."

"I did tell her. All she hears, when we fight like this, is me telling her I won't do what she wants me to do. I'm not good at letting other people tell me what to do, not unless I already want to do it. I thought about it, trying to see if there was any way I could change myself from feeling that way about this, but, there just isn't. I wish I was more like my Dad that way. It doesn't seem to bother him when he has to give in to her."

"Maybe it does bother him, but he knows it would be worse for Mama if he didn't let her have her way."

"I think that's true. Sometimes though, what she wants is too much for her to ask for. She wants me to go against what I believe. We've gotten into these types of problems before, and it never turned out well for either of us. All I know is that I've tried to do it, but it doesn't ever work out well for me. I end up resenting that I had to be the one to give in. I gave in a lot to Emily, but it just wasn't enough for her. It seems like I'm eventually going to be unhappy no matter what I do. I think I should keep doing whatever I decide is right for me. At least, that way, I won't end up feeling unhappy, and then feel stupid on top of it, for having tried to go against my own convictions. It isn't worth it, not just to try to act more reasonable with people."

"Why do you want to avoid Shirley? I don't think any of us understand what your reason is for doing that."

"It isn't that I want to avoid her. I want to avoid the trouble that not avoiding her would create for me. That isn't the real problem though. The real problem is that Emily and Mama refuse to accept that avoiding her is my choice to make. Shirley wants for us to get back together. I don't want to do that, not even if Emily weren't in the picture now. She already made her choices before. If I had gotten her pregnant, it would be different, but I didn't. Emily thinks all of us pitying her will help, but I don't think so. I wouldn't want to do that, even if it would work."

"What about Emily? She loves you."

"I love her too, but there are limits to what I will tolerate from her. I told her what those limits were, at least in this instance, and that's when she decided she couldn't live with me deciding about this by myself. You know what? I can live with her decision. I'm going to be leaving here soon anyway. Emily has a right to make choices for herself, and she has. I'm not going to even try to get her to change her mind."

"Kenny, sometimes you're like a spoiled little kid. You need to have your own way. Part of loving someone is being able to give up doing what you want. Why is what you want more important than what Mama or Emily want?"

"I'll tell you why. This is something I've thought a lot about too. All I'm trying to control is what happens to me. I'm not telling Emily or Mama what they should do with Shirley. I don't include them in automatically, or try to get them to do things they say they don't want to do. If they tell me no about something, I don't try to make them do it anyway. I'm the only one who gets to choose what I will or won't do. They can react, and I won't try to stop them, but I refuse to let them make my choices for me. Nobody makes my choices for me."

"No matter what the consequences are for you, or for the other people?"

"I get to decide for myself. I'm not talking about taking it to some ridiculous level anymore. I think I'm over doing that. I offer people choices now. Before, I just acted without discussing my actions with anyone. That's a big improvement for me, to offer choices."

"Some choices. My way, or we're finished."

"It isn't like that. Ask me to do something for you."

"Make love to me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not ready to do that. I'm not mad that you asked me, but, after I tell you no, I could get upset if you keep on trying to get me to do it. If that happens, I would tell you not to do it anymore, and tell you what I'd do if you persisted, after I told you not to. To me, that's reasonable. It isn't me that's overreacting about any of this."

"Suppose I told you that I was leaving here, tonight, if you don't make love to me?"

"I'd still tell you no, but I'd offer to move over to Uncle Bunny's, so you didn't have to leave here."

"You think that's enough?"

"It is for me. If things were reversed, and it was me that was asking you. If you told me no, I wouldn't ask again."

"Not even if you wanted me more than anything else in the world?"

"Not if you didn't want me. I wouldn't keep trying to get you to do what you didn't want to do."

"Shirley's unhappy, Emily's unhappy, Mama's unhappy, and now, I'm unhappy too."

"I'm unhappy too, and I didn't cause any of this. None of you liked my responses, so you chose to be unhappy, with me, and with yourselves. I can love all of you, and feel bad that you're unhappy, but that doesn't mean I should let you coerce me into changing my mind. I'm entitled to not want to participate in things. If that ends up meaning I'll be all alone, then I'll deal with that. I grew up knowing I couldn't always get my own way. I paid the price for not giving in then, and I'm still willing to pay the price."

"I give up. We can't communicate about this, because you already have your mind made up."

"Correct. All of you are mad because you can't make me change my made up mind. I'm mad now, because you won't accept that, and stop trying to push me into doing what I already told you, many times, I wouldn't do. So, if you're leaving because I won't fuck you, go ahead and leave."

Joyce turned away and quietly left my room. I was really doing well in my contacts with people. Perhaps I needed to take one of those courses I kept hearing about? The ones where they taught you how to get what you wanted without offending the people around you. My way didn't seem to be working for me.

I was on my bed, an hour or so later, when Gerta knocked on my door. Seeing her, I almost felt like crying. Not Gerta too?

"Are you hungry, Kenny? I made a nice ham, but nobody wants to eat it."

"I'm hungry. Did you make mashed potatoes too?"

"Sure. Gravy, peas, and some sweet potatoes too. I cook all day, and nobody but Hans and I are eating anything."

"I'm glad you didn't come up here to try to get me to be nicer to Shirley. Almost everybody I know has been after me to do that."

"What do I care? You were always nice enough to her before, I think. Maybe if you aren't being nice now, you have a good reason for it. She does look better now though, not so skinny now that she's filled out more. I wonder if her being big on top will stay after her baby?"

"She looks all right, but still, Emily's a lot cuter than her. At least, that's what I think. Shirley coming back here has been a bad thing for me. Now the women are all mad at me, and Shirley's the only one that's pregnant. I don't think any of my dreams are coming true."

"You can make them come true by marrying the pregnant one, but this isn't what you want, and it isn't good for you to do. You take all these things with girls too seriously. Hans was telling me that you need to be more relaxed about these girl problems. Like Bunny was."

"I don't think he was so relaxed. He loved someone for a long time, so the other girls that came and went, they didn't mean that much to him."

"Come and eat. I get upset when nobody eats my cooking."

I sat in Gerta's kitchen, eating as she talked to me. Hans wasn't there, so she told me about all the times she had to set him straight when he did things wrong. It was funny, but it was a little bit sad too. Poor Hans. The way she talked about him, she was the one who did all his thinking. I knew she wasn't exaggerating by much though. When I was through eating, I thanked her, and went back up to my room. I bolted my door locked, before nodding off to sleep.

I wasn't sure how things would turn out, but I was sure that I wasn't going to be the first one to approach any of the women in my life. It didn't matter if I was right, or if they were. I had made my decision, and I wasn't going to budge from it

Joyce and I, before we had our argument, had hired the new executive director of the new boy's modular extension. His name was Todd Pennysworth, and he was a retired social worker. He came with a lot of ideas about how he wanted to change the system. I liked his energy, and the way he kept on top of things. He would be a strong presence for the boys.

I had told Frank Clooney that I wanted to authorize any reasonable expenses for Joyce, Mama, and Emily, related to building the girl's modular extension. My father had finally signed on all the trusts, and had agreed to put in all the necessary funding from my main trust.

I had already started my grain trading program. It involved me taking counter positions in six of the grains that we used in our companies, and that we also produced on our farms. I was middling the prices, trading on the difference between what we sold the grains for, to ourselves, and what they were being bought and sold for in the open market.

I had developed my program after seeing the very narrow trading ranges between all the grain brokers we dealt with. Most of them were just going out and buying for us at the spot price, and I knew I could beat the prices those brokers were charging us. I could sell our grain, when prices rose higher than our current closed selling prices, and buy it back, on the open market, when prices fell below our closed buying prices. Even after paying brokerage commissions, I was pretty much assured of a substantial profit. Plus, unlike most speculators, I could take delivery if the time were ever to expire on my trade. I made sure I never bought or sold more than our company used, or our farms produced.

In my first month of trading, using an account Dad had set up for me, I made over ninety one thousand dollars. This was almost two per cent of my beginning capital trading base. My dad had been concerned, in the beginning, thinking my program was just speculative trading.

After I showed him how it worked, he could easily see that I was just taking advantage of any small, daily, fluctuations in those grain prices. I always stayed under the prices we paid our grain brokers, and that was a considerable cushion. Once he had satisfied himself that I was being prudent, he gave me daily buy/sell prices, and kept me updated on the quantities he would be able to handle.

During the days when all the women were mad at me, my Dad made it a point to spend time talking to me every evening. He would come home from work, and we'd discuss my grain trades, and then he'd keep me current on how things were going at work.

On the surface, at least, things appeared normal at home. It wasn't that all of us weren't still speaking to each other. There was no real tension between any of us. I learned, from dinner conversation, that Joyce and Emily were still working together on the girl's extension.

"So, how's Shirley doing, Mama?" I looked at her as her face registered surprise over my question.

"She's doing well, Kenny. She helps out with Joyce and Emily when she can. She's having some difficulties with the baby throwing her balance off. She has trouble getting up and down."

"How about Emily?"

"She's doing well also. I understand her father is very excited about something having to do with the book he is working on. She and Shirley have become very close. She helped Shirley get into some school program that teaches pregnant girls in their homes. Shirley will be able to keep up with her schoolwork, so that she doesn't miss a year."

"Did Dad have a chance yet to tell you how well my new trading program is performing? It works even better than I expected it to. Dad has even started having me buy and sell grains for the company, whenever the broker quotes get too high. A lot of times, these prices go up or down sharply, strictly from rumors. People like to speculate."

"I try to follow what you're doing, but, I've never had much of a head for all those small changes. Thomas said you make most of your profits from quarter and half cent movements. I don't see how it could ever amount to that much."

"We made over ninety thousand last month, and a lot of that was with movements of a lot less than a quarter of a cent. Sometimes, we buy and sell a thousand contracts at a time, and make eight or ten trades in a day. It's all automatic now. I set the prices I'll buy or sell for, and wait to see how many of my orders get filled."

"What happens to our grain brokers when you do this?"

"So far, nothing. I haven't had to take delivery on anything, or had to deliver anything either. I've bought and sold to and from the company, but, when that happened, I was able to zero the trade out at a later date, before having to deliver. My program smooths out Dad's grain price fluctuations. The grain brokers know I'm in the market now, so they know they can't stick it to us anymore like they sometimes did before."

"This money you're making, that's what you're using to pay for the new group homes?"

"Not yet. I've got these three trusts I'm accumulating money in, but I've been distributing the group home money through trusts that Uncle Bunny created for me, before we knew how much money some of these things would take. The new way has a lot of advantages over the old one, and Frank wants to keep money in the trusts so he can continue paying for other things Uncle Bunny set up for his clients. I told Frank I'd put all the money back for this one trust for Uncle Bunny's old clients. It was mostly money that was used to help the Coulters."

"Are you making it a point to avoid any contact with Emily?"

"I wasn't the one who got mad and broke off contact, she was. Nothing has happened to make me think differently about what we argued about."

"She's waiting for you to contact her."

"I miss her, but I'm not willing to try to change her mind about what she decided."

"Should we tell her you miss her?"

"No. That would be meddling. You and I are talking, and that's a good thing. We don't have to agree on everything in order to stay in contact with each other. Same thing with Joyce. If I saw Emily, I'd say hello to her. I'm not mad at Emily, I just don't want her trying to dictate my choices to me, not after I told her that I'd decided already."

Mama got silent for a few minutes. After a few minutes, she started asking my Dad about some of his current changes. The rest of dinner was like that, normal. I thought things had gone well.

Two more weeks went by, and things were back to how they had been, with the exception of my relationship with Emily. I'd seen Emily and Shirley separately two or three times. I had said hello, but hadn't spent any time talking to either one of them.

Shirley had a huge stomach. Because of her long, previously gangly body, everything had been thrown off by this growth. Mama mentioned that Shirley's doctors had recommended she spend the remainder of her confinement in bed. After that, we didn't see her around the house anymore. It seemed like Emily started coming over a little more often, having things she needed to see either Mama or Joyce about.

Mama had been after me to go to the dances at the country club, but I kept making excuses for not going. I didn't want to have the same kind of making up with Emily that I'd had with Joyce and Mama, and I was pretty sure that this is what they were after. With the kind of relationship I had with Joyce and Mama, the way we'd worked things out had been fine. With Emily, I felt like we needed to deal directly with the underlying issues. It had to be resolved, one way or the other, before anything could be resumed. Time was working against that too, because I was now leaving for Notre Dame in less than four months.

Every passing day made it less likely that Emily and I would be getting back together before I left. Even if we did get back together, we'd be splitting up again when I did leave for college.

I got home from school one day, and found myself alone in the house with Emily. Even Gerta and Hans were gone. It was a planned set up if I'd ever seen one.

"Hi, Em."

"Hi. I finally got tired of waiting for you to call me."

"Doesn't your phone have a dialer on it?"

"Joyce and your mother told me you were asking questions about me?"

"I asked Mama how you were, a week or more ago. Is that what you meant?"

"I came for my ring."

"Let me get it for you. I put it in a drawer, but I'm pretty sure I can find it. Wait here."

I started heading for the stairs, but Emily was right behind me. I went to my bedroom and walked straight to my nightstand and got the ring.

"Here it is." I held the ring out for her to take.

"Do you still want me to have it?"

"Sure, why not? I gave it to you before."

"You know what I'm asking. Do you still want me to have your ring?"

"It isn't my ring. It's a ring I bought, Emily. It doesn't mean anything. I gave it to you, and you decided to send it back. You came back to get it and I'm ready to give it back to you, but it isn't that kind of ring."

"What kind?"

"The kind that means anything about what we are to each other."

"What are we to each other?"

"That depends, but that's the real question we'd need to decide together."

"You don't know already?"

"No. The last time we got into that, you apparently decided we didn't have to be anything together. There was something you thought was more important that you had to have for us to be together. I'm still not able to give you that."

"You mean you won't."

"Yes, I mean I won't. Nothing has changed about how I feel about that."

"You made up with your mother and Joyce, they told me."

"No. We decided that we could continue with our relationship even if we didn't agree. They stopped trying to get me to do what I told them I wouldn't do. We didn't make up, it's only a truce."

"We can't have our own truce?"

"Things wouldn't be the same. This is a problem we have. We keep making these truces, putting band aids over the real problem. I don't want to keep having the same type of problem."

"What is this problem?"

"You think you have a right that I've never given you, and which I never will give to you. A right to decide what I should think or do, even if it isn't what I choose for myself."

"I don't see it that way. I see it as you caring more about what you want than you do about what I, or anyone else wants."

"There are different ways to look at the same thing. I could say the same about you. You cared more about what you wanted me to do about Shirley than you cared about what I wanted to do about her. We have different standards about what each has a right to demand of the other. You won't abandon yours, and I won't abandon mine."

"We could still have a truce."

"I'm willing to call a truce, but that doesn't solve anything. I don't want to be in love with a girl that insists she can make my decisions for me, after I've already decided something, and she doesn't approve of that decision."

"That leaves me no room, Kenny. Anything I say to you now would either be me surrendering to you completely, or else me giving up and accepting that we were through forever."

"I know, but there aren't any other choices for either of us. I don't want the kind of relationship my mother has with my father, and that is what I'd have if I didn't decide to insist on this point. I thought about getting back together with you, until I went off to college, but it didn't seem fair to either of us. We don't really have a future together any more, Em, and I'm not sure we ever had one. That's why we kept getting into fights."

"My mother said the same thing. She said I was stupid to try to make you like I want you to be. She said only one of us could ever be the boss. That's why she always gives in to my father."

"She stood up to him when it was important enough for her to do that. Like when she took that long bus trip with you and Gary. Most of the time I can go along with you deciding things, like where to eat or what to do when we go out. That never meant that I was going to let you decide things for me that I considered important. I'm sorry if me doing that made you think I would."

"It wouldn't have hurt you to do what I asked you to. All I wanted was for you to treat Shirley nicer."

"That's what you think, but that isn't what you were asking me to do. I told you I didn't want to get involved with her problems, or with her situation with Clay. Later, you saw my avoiding doing that as not being nice to Shirley. We can talk about this a lot, but it will always come back to me needing to be able to make my own choices, and you not being able to accept that."

"I'm not going to beg you to change your mind. You're wrong about me, but I can tell you've already decided everything. You won't be happy until you have someone who's willing to lay down and be your doormat. That won't be me."

"Goodbye, Emily. I'm sorry we both can't change enough to be together."

"I already changed enough. It's only you who won't change."

"Okay, I'm sorry I can't change enough."

I watched her walking out of my life. I wasn't even that sad about it anymore. I had known, that we couldn't bridge so big a hurdle. Our relationship had been a quilt made up of temporary patches. I loved the good times, but it was so much work just getting to a point where we could have some.

After Emily left, everyone showed up again in the house. Things got a bit frosty between Mama, Joyce, and me, but not so bad that we couldn't all function and work together. Emily stopped coming to my house. I didn't ask any more questions about her.

The grain trading program, and the building progress on the boy's new extension kept me fully occupied with any free time I found. Mama and Joyce were handling most of the details for the girl's extension. Mama had somehow gotten us yet another Federal grant for the building costs on the girl's extension homes.

My Dad was reporting excellent progress on his distribution hub idea. He was finally getting the chance to take our company national, as an independent entity. His expansion on this front required new financing, unlike with the vending machine roll out. The numbers he began tossing around were much larger than he'd previously been proposing. He was in a hurry to get the job done, and that required a heavier capital investment for the company.



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Chapter 30

I had kept my focus for the entire time that Emily and I were in that state of limbo. In the beginning, I truly believed it was another, temporary, fight we'd gotten into. I knew we were fighting over an important issue though, and this is what led me to re-examine the entire history of our relationship, going back to when we had first met, through Brenda.

After that meeting Emily and I had, over at my house, I knew that things could never again be the same between us. We had reached an impasse, one that neither of us was willing to retreat from or try to circumvent.

Whether it was because I was now accustomed to having these break ups, or because I'd had over a month to come to terms with Emily's and mine, the sadness and disappointment wasn't as strong this time as it had been with my previous loves. I hoped it was a sign that I was maturing, but I feared it was a sign that my mother was right, and I was becoming a colder, more uncaring person.

Whatever the cause, I kept right on doing my class work, taking care of the day to day details of operating my grain program, and with helping out with the financial matters of the group homes. This was more than enough to keep me busy, but when I did find myself with free time on my hands, I tried spending it with my family.

I had made a conscious decision to avoid any non-family related socializing. I stayed away from social settings, not wanting to take even the slightest chance that my hormones would get me involved in something my heart and head weren't yet ready for.

I was looking past the present, trying to prepare myself for the immediate future I had planned. It all centered around college. I was turning eighteen in July, leaving for college in late August, and I saw these two milestones as a new beginning for my life, or at least for the next phase of my life.

In the past year, I really thought that I'd grown and matured. I thought of myself as an adult now, and I really believed I'd found my calling in life with the program I was building for the orphan boys. I received tremendous satisfaction from knowing that I was altering the lives of so many boys, ones who had found themselves in the same circumstances I'd been in.

I saw the changes that living in the group homes was having on the boys. One of my favorite activities was watching a group of our boys interacting with a lot of other children who came from normal family lifestyles. I was so gratified to see that they blended together so well that you really couldn't tell, from watching them play together, which child belonged to which group.

So many of the surface differences had been eliminated by good clothing, adequate grooming, and better haircuts. Now, there were easy relaxed smiles, better posture, and a group of boys who didn't turn down their eyes in either embarrassment or envy when in the company of other, non-orphan children. Their self esteem had been improved, and they felt more mainstream, less cut off from the hopes and aspirations they saw continuously when they watched television. My boys didn't look like orphans anymore.

While I had a lot of help in making any of this become real, it had been my wanting it to happen that had gotten things started, and my willingness to do whatever it took that had made those first homes a reality. That isn't to say that my Dad, Mama, and Joyce, hadn't done as much or even more, in the beginning, than I had, but they did it because I'd come to them and asked them to help me. Dad had his company, Mama had her golf learning center, and I had my boys. We were lucky, in that each of us drew great satisfaction from what we had engaged and immersed ourselves in. We were even luckier in that all four of us, including Joyce, got satisfaction from participating in more than one of our family ventures.

I finally let Mama and Joyce talk me into going to one of the Saturday dances at the club. It was about a week and a half before my high school graduation, and all of the real work in school had already been accomplished. For seniors, it was a case of just showing up for classes, and not getting into any trouble, until they finally passed out our diplomas.

When we walked in and searched for a table, I saw Emily, Gary and Kitty sitting over by where they usually sat. I half expected to see the Connors and the Jones family as well, but they weren't there as far as I could see. Emily saw me too, and she didn't look surprised that I had come. I had a suspicion that either Joyce or Mama had called to tell her I'd agreed to come.

I had been prepared to see her again. In some ways I'd agreed to coming just so I could test myself, and my reaction, at seeing her again. I felt some excitement, even nervousness, but nothing that I couldn't handle.

Once we had found a table, and all of us had ordered drinks, I took off for the men's room. I really had to go to the bathroom, it wasn't so I could hide myself away from Em. When I finished up and came out, Emily was sitting in my chair, talking to Joyce. I approached the table and waited until she noticed me standing there. She stood up.

"Hi, Kenny. Sorry about taking your chair. I needed to tell Joyce something."

"Hi. Not a problem. Take your time, I don't mind. How have you been?"

"I'm good. I've been keeping busy with school and things. How about you?"

"Same thing, school and things. I'm starting to get everything ready for when I'll be away at school. I need to make sure I can still do those things that take care of the stuff that has to get done around here, from over in Indiana. It might take awhile to get it all set up, but most of it is by phone now anyway."

"Are you dating yet?"

"No, too busy. You?"

"No one's asked me yet."

"It was good seeing you again, Em. If you get out more, you'll get asked."

"Well, I better get back to my table. My mom's starting to give me that look again. Maybe you'll ask me to dance later?"

"Sure, I'd like that."

She left, and I could see both Mama and Joyce biting back all the things they wanted to say to me. They were afraid to say anything though, and that was probably for the best. My palms were already soaked, my dick was throbbing, and I felt close to wanting to jump out of my skin.

I'd been tested and found wanting again. Damn all women! You would think that your body would allow your brain to control it. I wasn't sure how much of my reaction was due to Emily, and how much was due to being a teenager who hadn't had any sex for a couple of months. I had grown used to not having to deny myself frequent carnal indulgences.

My first reaction was to flee, before I ended up making a complete fool of myself. It wasn't love I was feeling, or even any close bond of a past relationship. I was full blown horny. Plain and simple horny. I looked right at Joyce, and, from her reaction, I knew I wasn't hiding the state I was in very well. I looked at Mama, and thought I detected a satisfied smirk on her face. That could have just been me though, and I realized I was grasping desperately for some justification to get up and bolt out of the country club.

Pride kept me sitting there, and the passage of time allowed me to begin to regain my self control, and to start to place some perspective on the situation I found myself in. It didn't have to be anything for me to get so worked up over. It had been a long time, and Emily was a very pretty girl. We had known each other intimately for quite some time. It was only natural that seeing her again would get me going after such a long period of sexual abstinence. The important thing was for me to regain my composure, and then to find a way to deal with things that made sense, and wouldn't create problems for anyone.

Obviously, I couldn't ask her to dance with me. That was out of the question now. There was no way I could trust my dick not to send her an immediate signal if we were dancing together. I knew it would be awkward though, if I didn't ask her after our earlier conversation. I could wait and ask her to dance a fast dance with me, but even that might prove awkward.

"Kenny, you need to calm down and relax. We came here to enjoy ourselves." I looked over at Dad. If he noticed how agitated I'd become, there was no hope in the world that Mama, Joyce, and Emily hadn't noticed it too. Strangely, my father's words calmed me down quite a bit. Now that I knew for sure that everyone could see I had gotten excited, after talking to Emily, there was less reason for me to be concerned. I had been worried about hiding my excitement. Now, since they knew anyway, I could relax about it. It took a lot of the pressure I'd been feeling away.

"She's very pretty, and she was always able to get me excited. Nothing's changed about that." I tried to pass it off as though I hadn't been trying to conceal my reaction to Emily.

"She is a lovely girl, but the world is full of beauty. I'm sure you'll find someone just as lovely, someone that you won't have to spend half your life fighting with." I saw the expression on Mama's face darken when Dad told me that. He must have known how his remark would sit with her too, so I was doubly thankful that he'd made the comment to me. I hoped it wouldn't end up with him spending too much time in Mama's dog house.

"It is an admirable quality to remain on friendly terms with your past sweethearts, Kenny. Bunny had that knack, and it always served him well." Mama looked at Dad as she said this. She was pointedly giving him an opportunity to withdraw from whatever it was she had set up for Emily and me. I hoped he'd be reasonable and know that there was no winning this one for him. He needed to retreat while she still offered him a way out.

"The ones who didn't shoot at him through his bedroom window. Are those the past sweethearts you mean, Bertie?" Now Dad had really done it. It wasn't even necessary. I felt able to fend for myself. He was digging himself a hole he'd never be able to climb out of.

"You know, Dad, I know you like kidding around with Mama about these kind of things, but, I'm not certain this is a good time for you to be joking with her."

"You'd do well to listen to Kenny, Thomas. I'm in no mood to be played with right now."

"I'm not playing. It offends me that you are getting up to your old tricks after the boy has made it perfectly clear that he resents your constant meddling in his social situations. This is just another classic example of that meddling. Tell me that either you or Joyce didn't have a hand in setting up this meeting between Kenny and Emily tonight, and I'll apologize and remain silent." Dad paused to allow Mama time to deny it, or to protest that she had no involvement in any such planning, but she remained silent. "Very well. Your silence condemns you for being the meddler I've accused you of being. Are you so desperate to meddle that you are willing to drive Kenny away from us?

"I refuse to discuss my reasons for any of my actions with you. All you understand, or appreciate, is how to make money. I'm the one that keeps this family together. My actions all stem from the love I have for Kenny. I'm concerned with how he develops into being a man. I won't have my motivation, for having this concern, called into question by you."

"Will you both please stop this. Mama, he's right. You don't hear me when I try to tell you that this meddling of yours is driving a wedge between us. I don't want or need your assistance with my love life. What you do is totally inappropriate and unwelcome. Girls might not mind it, but I'm not a girl, and it always bothers me. I've asked you to quit doing it in every way I know how to do it. Please, stay out of my personal life. It isn't any of your business, and you don't have any right to impose your choices onto me."

"I have a mother's right."

"No, because mothers don't have that right. This is a right you just decided to assume. It is a meddler's right that you are trying to exercise. It doesn't work, in fact, it pushes me away from the girls you are trying to make me closer to. It causes most of the trouble you and I have ever had with each other. I love you, and I value your love, but I won't ever allow you to push me where I don't want to go, with any girl, ever."

"You could have just said this to me, Kenny. You didn't have to wait until it became a sore point between us."

How many times had I told her this, or something very similar to it? How many times had we been estranged because of her attempts to meddle in my love life? I wanted to stand up and scream at her. The old Kenny might have.

"I'm sorry now that I didn't, Mama. Maybe it's a good thing that Dad brought it up tonight, so that you and I could have this talk, and better understand how we each felt about things. I know I feel better now." I knew there was a good chance that Mama would grasp at the olive branch I was now offering her.

We would each give the other immunity for the words and actions taken that night, if she did. I had brought Dad into it, letting her know she had to grant him immunity for his words as well. Mama and I understood each other. We were working on ways to forgive each other. We both needed frequent forgiveness, and this was a mechanism I was now offering her.

"I feel better too. I just hope you aren't going to take my attempt to help, out on poor Emily. She did absolutely nothing to justify you being upset with her for tonight."

I had a sense of excitement so strong as to be almost overpowering. Mama and I were negotiating in a way that both of us could live with. She was willing to forgive Dad's outburst as well, but only if I made nice with Emily for the evening. It was as if the two of us had discovered a language we shared in common.

"I'm glad we got everything worked out, Mama. I'm going over, the next slow one, to ask Emily to dance with me."

"I'm sure that will make her happy. You should dance with Joyce too though, so she doesn't feel left out. Thomas, why aren't we dancing? You know I love to dance with you."

Our bargain was complete, and Mama and I couldn't have been happier about it. I'm not sure my Dad really understood that something very important had taken place in the past few minutes. I knew that he and I were going to go somewhere very private soon, and have a long talk about how to negotiate with Mama.

-------

When the next slow dance started, I got up and went over to ask Emily to dance. On the dance floor, we were both a little tentative, uncertain as to how close we should start dancing. When I pressed close enough in, so that she could feel my hard on pushing against her lower stomach, I felt her relaxing in my arms.

"Mama and I just had an interesting conversation about all her meddling in my affairs. She just can't seem to stop getting involved with those kind of things."

"I miss you so much, Kenny. I know that makes me sound pathetic and needy, but, I can't stop thinking about you."

"I miss you too, Emily, and I wish things had been different. I'm sure you can tell that I'm still very much attracted to you. That was never either one of our problems. We are both stuck with our strong personalities though, and that would always mean trouble for us. You can't be like your mother, and I can't be like my father. We can't work as a couple, not in the long term. I loved the short term though. The times when we weren't fighting, and we just wanted to devour each other."

"I feel the same way. I always said I missed not fucking you the most. I hated some of the other parts, but it all seemed worth it when we were in bed together. Even right now, when you're telling me that we'd always fight, I'm agreeing with you, but I'm also feeling you close to me and knowing how close I am to your cock. I never had even one regret about any of the times we were in bed together."

"We're a good match in bed, but not out of it."

"That's enough for me right now, the in bed part. It probably wouldn't be for very long, but we don't have that long anymore. Did you bring your car?"

"No, we all came in the limo. Mama and Joyce didn't want to wrinkle their dresses."

"I brought my car, and my mom let Gary drive her here in her car. We could go over to your Uncle's house."

"That's very tempting. Unfortunately, there's that little matter of my emotions, and probably yours as well."

"If you mean that I still love you, then, yes, there is emotion. On the other hand, tomorrow morning, when we both wake up horny again, we'll still feel the same way. If we went to your Uncle's house, the only thing that would change is that we wouldn't wake up horny."

"I need to think about that. I still love you, and I think I'd be bothered that all we were doing was using each other for some sexual gratification. Wouldn't that bother you?"

"Let me think about it. No. What's bothering me isn't worrying about how I'd feel if we went to your Uncle's. It's more like how upset I'd be if I got you this close to fucking me, and then you decided not to do it, because you didn't want to cheapen a relationship that you already said was over. I'm going to feel better if we do it. How I feel about you emotionally isn't going to change either way."

"Are you sure? I still think it might change things, make us seem like we're kind of cold blooded opportunists. I don't know how that would affect my feelings for you."

"I don't care that much about how it affects your feelings. I want to feel you in me again, for the physical pleasure I know it will give me. I'm not even going to insist that you enjoy it too. I'm like you said I was before, only concerned with what I want, and, right now, I want you to fuck me."

I couldn't keep protesting after she said that. My hard dick was calling me a liar anyway. There comes a point when you realize you are protesting more for the sake of getting it on the record that you had doubts. Emily was right. There was no arbitrary line that was drawn that said you could only make love when so many things were going well in your relationship. Emily and I had some good days where we should have fucked, but something got in the way of us doing so. Weren't we still owed something for those days?

I knew the real reason I was afraid to take her to Uncle Bunny's, and I think she knew it also. We did still have strong feelings for each other, and this renewed intimacy was bound to make our parting more difficult. I thought Emily still had hope that our having sex together would force us to get back together. I knew it wasn't going to ever happen. My knowing it wasn't going to happen, would mean that I was just using her.

"Emily, we won't ever get back together. It won't matter that I make love to you again, we won't get together again as a couple. I'm leaving soon, and, I don't plan on having a girlfriend when I leave. All this would be is sex."

"We're wasting time staying here talking like this. You need to stop worrying so much. I told you what I want, and what I expect. Why don't you do what I want for once, and then you can sit in your room, all alone, tomorrow, and worry about what you did?"

"No recriminations, no expectations, and no regrets?"

"Let me get my purse and tell my mother we're leaving. You go tell your parents we're leaving, and that you'll be out late."

It wasn't a very long drive to my Uncle Bunny's house, but Emily wasn't rushing either. I wondered if she was having second thoughts. My own doubts had never left me. I couldn't help it, I didn't want to do anything to debase or cheapen the love we had known with each other.

Inside, we both walked purposefully back to Uncle Bunny's bedroom. Once there, we started undressing. In bed, we didn't just fall on each other like I had thought we might. Instead, we started in slowly, two naked people, trying to find a safe way to touch each other without leaving too much of themselves behind in the process. All of her was so familiar to me, like a favorite book that had so many passages that you had read many times before. I noticed the tear running down her cheek and felt better about the ones I knew were falling down mine.

You can't really fuck someone you love. True fucking needs an absence of any feelings that aren't strictly physical. Emily and I weren't ever going to get to that point. When you take off all your clothes, you only reveal a small part of yourself. When you drop your emotional defenses, as sometimes happens during lovemaking, nothing remains hidden. We both knew what we were to each other. We knew it with some sadness and some joy.

The first time we made love, it was soft and gentle. More of a giving than a taking, although we both exploded from the strength of our mutual finishes. The second time was more about the frustration we both felt about having personality conflicts that kept us from being able to stay a loving couple.

It wasn't anger, at least not on my part, but frustration can appear amazingly similar to anger. I held her in a tight restraining grip, and rode her to a fevered pitch. I kept at it until each stroke elicited some audible response from her. She fought me all the way, finally screaming out her own frustration as she called me every vile name she could think of while cathartic tears streamed off of both our faces. This was ritual cleansing for both of us.

This was the first time I'd ever gotten to really say goodbye to someone I loved. It wasn't maudlin at all, in spite of the way I've described it. Instead of being that, it was comforting to me, and, I have to assume, from things Emily told me after, to her as well. We were separating out the different components of our failed relationship, focusing on the one thing we'd shared that had been most satisfying to both of us.

I was learning yet another valuable lesson, that my relationships weren't about any one thing, but were about a whole host of different things. While Emily and I had been most successful as a couple when we were engaging in sex, we also got along pretty well when we weren't in the middle of a personality conflict, or fighting for the dominant role in our relationship.

Shirley and I got along well almost all the time, but I never measured up to her romantic ideal of the perfect match. Later, when she had lowered her expectations, down to a standard that would allow her to fully accept me, I'd already rejected her, for her past lack of commitment and loyalty to me.

Brenda was a totally different story. I was wildly attracted to her, physically, but I didn't really like any of her personal values, beliefs, or ambitions. She wanted to use me, and I had gone along, at times, because of my attraction to her.

This wasn't all coming to me as a new revelation. I had thought about much of this before. Of the three, I appreciated Emily the most. She had hung in there when it got pretty intense and negative, and she had fought the good fight with me, trying to make our relationship work. She got high marks for her kind of tenacity.

Brenda was also tenacious, but in a less positive way, I thought. She cared only about what she thought would be good for her, while Emily was also concerned about me, and what could benefit my life. Shirley was less confrontational than Emily or Brenda, but she viewed things in her life as all or nothing. I wasn't stable enough myself to attempt to fill the role she needed in her life. I'd once given her all that I could give, and it hadn't been enough.

Joyce. Even when I was sitting up in bed with Emily, my arm around her shoulder, my thoughts turned to Joyce. She was the unknown among my four loves. We had never really formed a relationship that was purely romantic. It was very possible that we never would. I admired so many of her qualities, depended on her for the support she gave to my projects and to my ideas. I even admitted to having a lust component with her, but no romantic spark had ever ignited in me with her.

I knew, choosing from among those four girls, Joyce would be the one I could accomplish the most during my life with. We shared many of the same goals and ideals. Working with her was both enjoyable and productive. My life would be easier if she were there at my side, but I also knew it would be a marriage without the romantic spark I'd felt with Brenda, Emily, and Shirley. Would really liking someone be enough? I didn't believe it would be. Mama was right though, Joyce would be a very good fit for my personality type. She would allow me to make all the big decisions, and defer to me when one of us needed to prevail.

"You started worrying again already, Kenny. I thought we had agreed that you'd wait until tomorrow to do that." Emily was close to me, her lips only inches from mine. I could lean in and kiss her, letting my thoughts and worries wait for when I was again alone, or, I could continue on my own path, taking away from what we were sharing together. I kissed her. I willed myself to stop thinking about anything other than the woman lying there beside me.

It worked too. It was almost four o'clock before we left Uncle Bunny's. Emily had promised her mother she would be home before Gary woke up in the morning. When she dropped me off, she thanked me, and that made me feel bad. I should have thanked her, or else made some statement about wanting to see her again. I needed to say something, to let her know I'd enjoyed being with her again. She had made all the overtures, earlier, to make our evening possible, and it was my turn to give something back to her.

"Em, I loved what we did, and I admit you were right about it being a good thing for us to be doing what we did. Making love has always been something we did very well together. I hope you enjoyed it enough that you might like to do it again, before I leave for school?"

"We'll see. Right now, I'm just glad we had tonight. I feel like we're at least friends again. I felt something happening to me though, and I need to examine what it means. Let's take a few days, and then, if you want to see me again, you can call and we'll discuss it."

I watched her turn around in the circle driveway and head back towards her house. She was right again, and I'd felt something as well. It was better too that she be able to be the one to decide about any future get together.

-------

Sunday, all four of us came down and shared breakfast. From the way Mama was acting, I'd have bet she kept her end of our bargain about Dad.

At lunch, Mama made a too casual comment about me not dancing with Joyce at the dance. Joyce blushed at the time, then said something about her understanding that I had something more important I wanted to do. The subject got changed to something about business, and soon, the four of us were lost in a spirited discussion about whether we should stick with our regional banking partners, or go to either Chicago or New York and shop our financing requirements.

Dad was now talking about needing an open credit line of almost half a billion dollars, to fund his planned expansion. Already, he was looking into making at least one west coast acquisition, and he wanted the money available in case prospects for that turned favorable quickly.

The growth in our vending business had made getting a credit line that large possible. Already the profits from our vending machine expansion were impacting our bottom line very favorably. Profits from that once small division now accounted for more than a third of our overall net.

I asked Joyce to come up to my room to discuss some of the snags we were running into on both building projects. There were a lot of hoops you needed to jump through when you used Federal grant money for building anything. Our two contractor companies hadn't had previous experience working with this kind of oversight before. There was some problem with meeting Federal guidelines for employee wages, and a question about some of the building materials being used. I told Joyce what needed to happen on the site where the girl's extension was being built, and then I told her I'd work with the other contractor, straightening things out at the boy's extension. It took about thirty minutes for us to work things out so that I was satisfied that everything that needed doing would get done.

"Joyce, I'm sorry about leaving you last night without at least dancing with you a few times. I feel bad."

"Kenny, don't worry. Your dad danced with me. It was fine. I'm not sure why Mama even mentioned it to you."

"I'm sure why she did. She wants to make sure that you're still in the running for the 'who gets Kenny Parsons sweep stakes.' You're her favorite in that race."

"I think I've been dropped from the entries."

"Do you really?" I smiled at her when I asked my question. Now wasn't the time for Joyce to start playing coy with me.

"You've made it pretty clear that I'm not in the running."

"That's funny, because it looks like all the other entrants dropped out too."

"I thought, you and Emily."

"Can't work it out. We like to fuck each other, but we can't agree about which one of us is going to be the boss."

"I know, but you both are being silly about that. It isn't that important."

"Not to you, or to my Dad, or to Emily's mom, but it is important to a lot of the rest of us."

"You love her though."

"Yes, and that makes facing the reality of our situation harder. We both love the other, especially when the other is letting us do what we want to do."

"Where does that leave me?"

"I don't know. We work well together, you had a very talented way about you when we made love that one time, but, we have some pretty big hurdles to overcome as well. Maybe bigger than all the other girls combined."

"This means you are thinking about me though, right?"

"I do think about you. I think about how well we get along when we're working together, and about how much I admire what you can do. In many way, I like you better than any of the other girls. The problem is, I loved each of them in a different way than I love you. I see you getting bigger though, so I know things are changing with you. I see those little bumps that you're so proud of. They're really starting to sprout out from your chest. I thought I noticed that your little butt was getting a little wider too, but that could have just been that skirt you were wearing."

"No, I'm getting real hips now. I'm already four eleven and a half. The doctor thinks I can grow to five three, maybe five four. Look at my teeth now, my orthodontist said they are going to be perfect when he gets done with me. I'm not going to always look like this."

Joyce that wasn't what I meant. I see you turning into a woman now. What I meant, was romantic love. We don't have that, not so far at least."

"I have it, Kenny, and you might get it for me, later. I'm still growing. You have to wait and see what happens when I'm fully grown and developed. You'll see that I can be whatever you want me to be. Just wait and give me a chance."

"It makes me proud that you feel like that about me Joyce, and I wish I felt the same way about you. I know it bothers you when I do things like last night with Emily."

"No, it didn't bother me. Mama already explained it to me, and now I understand."

"What did she say?"

"She told me that Emily isn't serious competition for me, that it was better if you spent your time and affection on her, while I'm still growing and making myself ready for you. She said if you spent time with Emily, you wouldn't go out looking for anyone more suitable."

"Mama is a meddler, and we're never going to be able to change her. When I go off to school, there are going to be other girls. I don't want to have to feel guilty about seeing other women. I don't know how you're going to feel about that either."

"I'm going to worry, and I'm going to hope none of them turns out to be the one you pick to marry. Are you going to worry about what I'm getting up to back here?"

"No. Right now, we're just real good friends. I'm not going to get jealous."

"I called Emily right before lunch, and she told me part of what you two agreed to. She said it was really good last night, but it was sad for her too. She told me you both found out that the great sex wasn't enough. She really does love you, Kenny, but now you've convinced her that the rest of it is over. I want to know how come it's okay for you and Emily to just have great sex, but it isn't okay for us to do the same thing?"

"I love her, the kind of love people should have when they make love. If I ever feel that kind of love for you, I'll let you know. If I never feel it, we won't ever fuck or make love again. It isn't the same thing at all."

After Joyce left, I felt bad about Emily some more. Between what she told Joyce, and what she'd said to me earlier, it looked like she too was trying to disengage from our connection. There was sadness, but there was also relief.

I knew I'd call her during the coming week, to let her know I was thinking about her and that I was hoping she'd come to Uncle Bunny's so that we could make love again. I expected that she would refuse my offer, if not the next time, certainly the time after that. How many goodbye's can two people who are still in love stand to make? I'd let Emily decide that for us.



-------

Chapter 31

I had been working my grain trading program for a month and a half when I ran into my first real problem. I had been selling into a rising oats market, and had somehow foolishly oversold the entire production capacity of all our oats producing farms. I needed to cover some three thousand contracts that I had sold, and I had less than two thousand contracts of farm production available to me. I couldn't really take the farm production either, because our companies used that to produce some of our product line,

I should have taken this problem to my Dad as soon as it became apparent to me, but, I had been doing so well prior to this. He'd been very skeptical early on, when I'd first tried to explain my program to him, so I had hesitated, hoping the market would correct itself, and I could cover enough to escape taking a horrendous loss.

I was investing in contracts for July delivery, and had sold fifteen million bushels of oats. If I started covering right away, I would sustain a loss of about four and a half cents a bushel. In all, my loss would come to a little more than sixty-five thousand dollars.

At dinner, after I had finally worked up the courage to say something, I confessed everything to Dad, right there at the dinner table. I fully expected him to be livid with me, because I had deviated from the strategy and the contract size limits we had agreed upon even before I started my trading program. He laughed out loud at me instead.

"Thomas, I see no humor in what Kenny is telling us. A loss of sixty-five thousand dollars is a serious matter." Mama was reacting just like I thought she would. I wondered what there was that my father found to laugh at. I didn't have long to wait.

"He who sells what isn't hisson, is gonna wind up serving time in prison. I don't remember the exact wording, but it comes from an old saying from before the turn of the century, Kenny. Every new trader finds himself biting off more than he ever planned on chewing. I've been expecting this would happen to you sooner or later. Three thousand contracts of oats, that's a lot of oats. Do you have any idea about why the price has been moving up like it has been?"

"No. That's the thing. It's been pretty dry in the areas where they grow oats, and that's pretty much all over, but I checked with our farms, and they still expect good harvests. There's no real reason why the price should be moving up."

"Cereals, Kenny. Kellogg is rolling out and test marketing five or six new flavored oat cereals, and they are doing heavy advertising and coupon promotions to get people to try them. The market is anticipating this will create a heavy demand for oats."

"Should I cover then, and just take my loss?"

"There's still a lot of time left on your contracts. You can hold tight and see how the new cereals sell. If they bomb, the run up can unwind just as quickly. I doubt if prices will move up very much more than they already have, no more than a penny or two more per bushel."

"It costs me fifteen thousand, each penny it moves up."

"That's the problem with being wrong when you're out there speculating. You got too greedy, and now you have to either take your loss, or risk an even greater one."

"I never liked oat cereals, not with fruit, and not plain. What flavors are they offering?" Mama seemed interested in discussing cereals when I was trying to decide whether to sell, and cut my losses, or hold, and risk losing even more money.

"Blueberry and strawberry for sure, and I think they have one that combines several different fruit flavors. Honey, and a caramel like concoction I heard. The honey flavored oats have been tried before, by Post, and a few other major regional brands. Their advertising is being geared strictly for the children's market. Flavored oats have never been too popular, and they've been tried in the past."

"I wouldn't try them. Oats aren't my favorite anyway." Mama made a face when she told us that. "Kenny, you should sell another three thousand contracts of the July oats, and another three thousand of the September. If you need more money for it, come see me."

"Bertie, you shouldn't encourage him to speculate. However, I tend to agree with what you said about oat cereals in general, other than oatmeal of course, and with what you propose that Kenny do. Senior was a real wizard when it came to predicting the grain markets. I'm sure he would have counseled Kenny towards taking a bold approach as well. Kenny, I would set a mental stop loss limit if I were you. Pick a figure high enough to give you plenty of margin for the market to continue going against you, but not so high that losing that amount of money would seriously undermine your spirits. Perhaps a nice round million?"

A million dollars. I was already sick from thinking about what I could have done with the sixty-five thousand dollars I'd already lost. The idea of possibly losing another nine hundred plus thousand was more than I thought I could stand.

"I think I should just do what you suggested first, hold on to my current position, and hope oats come back down some before the contract settles."

"It's your choice to make, Kenny. Thomas, I want you to sell ten thousand contracts of July and September oats for me. Ten thousand of each. Kenny, when you have a feeling about where prices should be heading in grains, you need to go with it. I'm not talking about risking ruin, but, you'll find there is profit and satisfaction in taking a position you feel comfortable with. Your father has told you the reason for oats sudden rise. Speculators are betting on an eventuality that almost certainly isn't going to occur, at least not in the next eight months to a year. When the immediate demand for oats fails to materialize, the spot price will reflect that fact. You will be able to cover in the spot market, and lord knows we have the grain storage capacity to hold for later delivery. Right Thomas?"

My parents were both smiling in agreement with each other. They had years of experience in watching grain prices. I knew that Mama must have felt pretty confident if she was prepared to commit the kind of money that twenty thousand oat contracts would mean. When Dad didn't even bat an eye, or make any attempt to talk her out of making the trade, I decided that their conviction was good enough for me too.

"I'm going to change my mind now, Mama. I think I'll do what you suggested before. I feel a little better about things now, Thank you."

"You're welcome, dear. My father used to love to discuss his market triumphs at the dinner table. He had so many of them too. His losses were a different case altogether, and he never spoke of those. In fact, I believe tonight is the first time a family member ever brought up having to face the prospect of taking a loss in the market. That was very brave of you, sweetheart. Don't you agree, Thomas?"

"An exaggeration about no one ever mentioning taking a market loss, but, yes, I do have to agree that it was a brave thing. I hope it turns out that it was also a wise thing, for Kenny to bring that subject up for discussion with us."

We spent the remainder of time at dinner discussing the impact of rumors on market movements. Dad told me that a number of big grain companies were selling oats into the Kellogg flavored oats generated run up. He said that when these people were on the same side of a position as you were, you needn't feel as worried about whether you were on the right side.

The next morning, I placed my orders with our brokerage company, and transferred a lot more money into my trading account. Dad had to go in and sign some papers, because the account was exceeding the position limits set for regular speculation accounts.

Less than a week later, I was able to cover on all of the May contracts because oats on the cash markets had already dropped back down more than six cents a bushel. Kellogg had withdrawn their test marketing roll out, without any explanation, other than saying they wanted to do more product testing. I closed out the July and September contracts as well, having earned a substantial profit with each.

I used part of this windfall to replace all the money I'd previously made use of out of the trusts that Uncle Bunny had created for me. I used even more of the proceeds to make a large donation to our group homes corporation. I wanted it to be independently liquid after I left for college. We added Joyce's name to the list of people authorized to write checks on the corporate account.

I had learned another good lesson after my lucky escape from my oats trade. I was very careful, after that one big scare, to confine all my trades to well inside the trading limits I'd originally set for myself.

Mama took all of her trading profits, which were far greater than mine had been, and she had Frank Clooney set up a charitable trust, just for the benefit of the girl's extension. She made Joyce the sole trustee of it, telling her she wanted her to get used to handling larger sums of money.

I called Emily on the first Tuesday afternoon after our Saturday night get together at the dance. We spent over an hour talking on the phone. I had started out by inviting her to come with me to Uncle Bunny's, but, when she said she'd rather not, I didn't press her about it further.

Mostly, we spoke about her father, and about how excited he was becoming over the way his book was progressing. She told me he'd be coming home sometime in the following week.

"He got upset with all of us when my mom told him about borrowing more money from you. She told him that we had broken up too. He said we needed to return that ten thousand to you."

"I don't need the money, Em. She probably shouldn't have mentioned it to him, at least not until after he had finished doing his research and had already come back home."

"He's almost finished already he said. He'll be done completely before he leaves. He asked mom some questions about money, and that was when she decided to tell him. We can't give it back anyway, because she already spent a lot of it."

"I've got more if you need it, Em."

"I knew you'd say that. I told my mother that you'd offer to give us more. She said we can't take anymore from you. My dad told her she couldn't. He says I need to give the car back too."

"Tell him you tried to, but I told you I didn't want it, and you could either keep it, or throw it away."

"He's going to be mad at all of us if I tell him that."

"Em, I don't want that car. I gave it to you so you could get back and forth to school easier. I have another, newer, one already. I didn't give it to your father, I gave it to you. Since it's yours, you can either keep it or sell it."

"It doesn't seem right for me to keep it, Kenny. He's right about that. Before, when we were together, it seemed all right for me to take it, but we're not together anymore."

"Emily, we can take this all the way out to a place where nothing makes any sense. The car was something I didn't need any more, and I knew a very good friend of mine would like it, and that she had a good use for it. I like to think you're still my very good friend. Just because some things changed, that doesn't mean everything changes. We are still friends, right?"

"Will you talk to my mom and explain that to her?"

"Sure. You want to go get her now, or should I call her back later?"

"Now, here she is." There was a fumbling with the telephone and then Kitty came on the line.

"Ken?"

"Hello, Kitty. Em was just telling me the good news that Mr. Carstairs will soon be home again. I'll bet that pleases you."

"Yes, we're all excited Jerry's coming back sooner than we expected. He's finishing early, because he didn't need to do as much research as he originally thought he'd need."

"Em told me that he wanted her to give that old Caddy back to me. I told her I wouldn't take it. She can keep it, sell it, give it away, or leave it abandoned along the side of the road. I'm not taking it back. I didn't give it to her because we were lovers. It was because I didn't need a second car, and a friend of mine could use one. She's still a friend of mine, and I'd still like her to have it."

"Jerry says she has to return it."

"I'm counting on you to think of a way to change his mind about that. It isn't his car, it's Emily's. Just because he and I don't get along well, he doesn't need to take it out on Emily."

"He said I have to return that other money you loaned me too. I heard Emily tell you we spent part of it, but I still have almost eight thousand dollars to give back to you."

"Kitty, you need to tell your husband to quit trying to make some kind of statement to me by harming either himself or his family. Tell him I already know he doesn't like me, and he isn't going to accomplish anything worthwhile by making everyone worry about money before his book starts selling."

"He already gave me very specific instructions to give it back to you. If I don't do what he tells me to, he'll be angry."

"Suppose you give the money back, then what happens?"

"Then Jerry will have to get more money from somewhere else. Maybe he'll ask his family for a loan."

"Tell him to do that first. Tell him you'll return the money to me as soon as he borrows some money from his own family."

"I couldn't tell him that."

"Put Emily on the phone please, Kitty."

"Hello?"

"Your mother isn't going to be any help. Drive over to Frank Clooney's office right after school lets out tomorrow. I'm putting you on the pay roll for Kansas Communities for Children. You'll need to fill out some papers, and sign some forms. I'm going to pay you two thousand dollars a month, starting five months ago. Your car is going to become the property of KCC, and you'll be reimbursed for the money you've spent on gas, and your insurance costs. If your father objects to you having a job, and makes you quit, we'll try something different, but I expect you to try to stand up to him."

"Kenny, I don't want to take money for working with those kids."

"You aren't. I'll just put the money for it in the corporation. This is just so we can do what needs doing without having your father steamroller your mom into giving everything back. He isn't going to be able to intimidate you, is he?"

"He's my father, Kenny. I can't go against him."

"Going for what's right isn't the same as going against him. He really isn't in any position to be able to afford making such foolish gestures."

"Does Joyce get paid for the work she does for the group homes?"

"Not directly, but Joyce is well paid already, and if she needs or wants anything else, all of us would make sure she got it."

"I don't want to take money for working with the orphans."

"Okay. What would you take money for?"

"I think I could let you loan me the money. I wouldn't have any problem with doing that, not if you promise to let me pay it back when my father's new book sells. He might get mad that I did it, but he wouldn't get as mad at me as he would at my mom. It might take a year before my dad's book is printed and starts selling. Can you loan me that much? Mom says we spend five thousand dollars every month, including everything."

"Put your mom back on."

Hello?"

"Kitty, I'm taking the eight thousand back from you, so you can tell your husband you did what he told you to do. I'm loaning the money to Emily instead. She can stand up to him better than you do. She'll have her own checkbook, so you give the bills to her, and let her pay them. If you need cash, you can borrow it from her."

"This is the same as what he didn't want before. The money is still going to be coming from the same place."

"You're right. The difference is, Emily is willing to stand up to him, for her family's sake. He's going to pay me back, he just hates that the money comes from me. Tell him if he hates it bad enough, I'll stop loaning money to Emily when he gets enough to pay all the expenses from somewhere else."

"Emily won't disobey him either."

"We'll see if you're right or not. I think she will."

"She never has before."

"Give her the money you're paying back to me. You can borrow it back from her until we get her a checking account of her own."

"He's still going to be angry with me."

"Kitty, he's angry with himself about getting into this mess in the first place. Offer him some other choices, or ask him to come up with a better way to keep things going until his book starts selling. If he really is as excited about the new book as Emily says, he won't have too many doubts about being able to pay everything back."

"You're forcing me to choose, Ken."

"I'm only trying to keep all of you from losing what you have. My way is practical. His way could cost you everything you've built up. Why take a chance on that?"

"I know you mean well, and I really appreciate the help you've given us, but I have to follow what Jerry tells me. I promised him."

When Emily got back on the line, she told me she couldn't do what I'd asked of her either. She said she needed to let her parents decide what was best. I knew how afraid she was about losing the house and everything. Her decision surprised me. It wasn't like her to back down and let someone else decide things like that.

The next day, I found a check in an envelope in the mailbox. It was drawn on the Carstairs personal checking account, made out to me, for seventy five hundred dollars. I took her check and put it in the top drawer of my nightstand. I figured I just wouldn't cash it. That way, if she started writing checks, the money would be in the account still to cover them.

On Saturday morning, three days before my high school graduation, Emily called me, wanting me to come pick her up so we could talk. I drove right over and picked her up. I thought she might have meant she wanted to go over to Uncle Bunny's, but she really did want to talk to me, so we went over to the country club and got ourselves a table.

"Did you get my mom's check?"

"Yes. She left it in my mailbox."

"I brought it over."

"Well, I got it."

"My father's coming home on Tuesday."

"I'm graduating at three o'clock on Tuesday."

"He said he wants to talk to you."

"Really?"

"He was talking to my mother, and she was crying. After, Gary and I talked to him, and that's when he told me to ask you to come see him."

"I can come over after we get back from the graduation ceremony. It might be after seven, because I think Mama has a big celebration dinner planned or something. Tell him I'll be over sometime in the evening."

We had a Coke, but neither of us ordered any food. We talked about little things. She told me about how Gary was mad at her because her breaking up with me meant he wasn't going to be able to take a trip to Minnesota to see Lisa Johnson, the girl he'd met while we were staying at the Disneyland Hotel.

"Maybe I'll fly him out there so I can see that box elder bug thing he was telling us about."

"He found out that comes in September. He wanted to take a trip before then, like in June, right after Lisa gets home from Maryland. They've been writing each other everyday. He left one of her letters in the living room once, and I happened to glance at it. From what she writes in her letters, I think I can guess why Gary wants to see her again so much. I think it's cute that he has his first real crush on a girl."

"You shouldn't read his personal mail. What did she write?"

"She wrote about things she'd like to try if he was there. I'd tell you the specifics, but I know you wouldn't want to pry."

"Sex things?"

"Oh yeah. Blow jobs, fucking. I've heard about those farm girls. My mother was raised on a farm, but she says she never behaved like all those farmer's daughters in the jokes you boys like to tell."

"I bet there are plenty of farms in Indiana. I'll have to drive around on weekends and see if I can find some of these farmer's daughters."

"Aren't there a lot of girls at Notre Dame?"

"It's a men only college, no girls at all."

"I didn't know that. All men? Poor Kenny."

"No, I was just kidding. I'm pretty sure there are at least as many women as men going there."

"Ha. It wouldn't matter if it was only a men's college. You'd be fucking some girl within a week anyway."

"A week? It will probably take me a week just to find all of my classes. There are thousands of people that go there. I just hope they sell maps of the campus."

"You better get some here before you leave then. You don't want to get yourself lost because you were out trying to find some girls to screw."

"I'm running out of girls here. I already went with all the pretty ones. All that's left is Steph and her girlfriend, Brenda. I think I'd rather wait and take my chances at Notre Dame. I have a pretty good sense of direction."

"Speaking of Brenda, and not the skinny one that's Steph's friend, have you heard about when she'd getting home?"

"I haven't, but I could probably find out for you."

"That's all right. Talking about you and fucking, I just naturally thought about her."

"I thought it was from talking about Gary and fucking that made you think of her."

"Are you still mad at her about that?"

"No. I'm mad at her about not telling me before she got me to take her back. It isn't any big thing to me, now that she's gone from my life, but, at the time, it really hurt me."

"I know. Are you going to see her this summer?"

"I'll probably see her at the club or something, I don't know. If you're asking me if I want to get together with her for sex though, no, I don't."

"Not even if I was there too?"

"Not even if anything. Are you still hoping to get back to being friends with her?"

"I don't know. There isn't that much to do here in the summers. You've seen the other boys around here. There isn't a whole lot to choose from. Would you be mad at me if I started being friends with her again?"

"No. Just be sure to remember that you can't ever trust her."

"She might have changed by now."

"Maybe. Still, you need to be careful with Brenda, Em."

"I need to get back. I promised mom I'd help her clean the house. Since we stopped having a maid, everything gets piled up, and she wants the house looking good for my dad when he gets back."

"I know these two girls that help Gerta with our house. I could call them, and they'd go over and take care of it for you in no time. They could probably have it looking better than you and your mom could."

"We can't afford it."

"It would be my treat. Unless you like cleaning house?"

"Ugh. No, I hate it, especially the bathrooms and the kitchen. You should see the inside of our oven, and all the areas behind the refrigerator, and under the sink. We could go ask my mom if she thinks it would be all right. I know she's worried about what dad will say if we don't do a good cleaning job."

"Maybe you need three maids. Gerta knows all the good workers around here. Why don't we go ask your mom first, then we'll go ask Gerta if your mom says it's okay?"

Kitty looked a little frazzled when we found her in the kitchen. She had all the cans and stuff out of the pantry, and was scrubbing all the inside shelves with Spic N Span and water. Emily told her about my offer, and I could see she wanted to refuse. She kept looking from us to the pantry, and then back at us.

"Kitty, if you try to do everything by yourselves, you'll be too tired to stay awake and talk to Jerry when he gets home. You can't tell me that he told you not to hire anyone to help clean the house?"

"No, but we don't have any money for that. I've cleaned my own house before. This is like Spring cleaning when I was a girl. We could have it all finished by tomorrow, especially if Gary and Emily quit hiding out, and come help me with it."

"That was why Emily wanted to come home, to help you, but my way would be easier, and the house would end up just as nice. These girls are very quick and efficient. They know what they're doing, and they always like having extra work. Wouldn't it be better if Jerry came home to a clean house, a wonderful dinner, and a wife and children who didn't look like they'd been outside, trying to row across Lake Erie?"

"Ken, sometimes I think you're the Devil, trying to tempt me. How much would it cost to have those girls come over to help us?"

"If you let me take care of it, I can have your house cleaned by tomorrow afternoon, and it won't cost any of us anything. Emily and I can make all the money it would cost us."

"Doing what?"

"We can place some vending machines. My dad will pay me the salesman's commission on any machine I place. I already know where I can put two of them. Good locations too. If Emily helps me, I'll split the commissions with her. Her half will pay for the girls that come to clean."

"It would be Emily's money? Money she had earned by helping you sell these vending machines?"

"We don't sell them. We put them in businesses where a lot of people pass by. We stock and re-stock the machines, and the business gets a share in our profits. It's a very good business."

"Emily, do you want to go with him and help?"

"I don't know anything about placing or servicing these machines." Emily sounded unsure.

"I know all we need to know. It will be fun, and we'll be back by Sunday night."

"You'll be gone overnight?"

"Yes, but I'll get Emily her own, separate, bedroom. This is a business trip. We need to go to Omaha first to get the contracts, and then we need to go back out to the airport there and the one in Bolling. I already talked to the airport managers, and all we'll need is contracts for them to sign, and a delivery date to install the machines."

"I'll have to think about this."

"You better think fast, Kitty. I need to see Gerta about getting in touch with the girls, pack an overnight case, and call up Virginia, in Omaha, to get the contracts ready. If we're going to do this, we need to get started pretty soon."

"Emily, you decide." Kitty looked at her daughter. She didn't want to be the one who decided. She was afraid to make the wrong choice.

"I think it's a good plan. You know we need help if we're going to get things back the way dad expects them. I'd rather do almost anything than clean house."

I left Emily at home packing while I went back to my place. Gerta started calling some of her best girls, offering them work for Saturday and Sunday, negotiating with them for how much they would be paid. I told her the house needed a lot of heavy cleaning, so she ended up hiring four girls in all.

The total bill, for labor to do the cleaning, and all the cleaning supplies, came to over four hundred dollars. I had been figuring around two hundred and fifty dollars. I wasn't sure how we'd place another machine. I knew I could get contracts signed on the two at the airports. They were all set up already.

I called Virginia at home and told her I needed a contract for the airports in Omaha and Bolling, but to leave the number of machines placed blank because I was going to try to place more than one in each location. I asked her to have two other contracts with location information left blank, just in case I needed to find another place to leave a machine.

I went into the study and talked to my father about borrowing the plane to fly up to Omaha and back. When I told him I was placing some vending machines, he just smiled and called the maintenance company where the plane was kept and maintained. He called Virginia back too, asking her to call the Hilton to reserve a suite for me. I'd forgotten about that. I thought about asking for a second room for Emily, but I knew there were two bedrooms in the suites anyway.

I got a bag together, with some clothes, and my travel shaving bag, and was back over at Emily's before noon. She wasn't ready, but two of the four women Gerta had hired were already there, listening to Kitty while they made a list of what needed to be done first. Kitty seemed more accustomed to telling the women what she wanted than she had seemed when doing the cleaning work herself. I figured she had been too used to living well before, and had gotten out of the habit of doing any real work around the house. She, at least, hadn't looked like she was afraid of doing some cleaning. I couldn't say as much for Emily. I didn't know about Gary, because he hadn't come out of his room at any time when I was there at his house.

We got to Bolling before two, and were airborne before two fifteen.

I took the rental car that my father had arranged for me, and drove Emily and myself over to the Lucas Company. I gave her a quick tour, showing her the bakery floor, and the packaging and shipping areas.

Virginia was in her office when we went upstairs. She had all the contracts ready, and gave me a little crash course in the contract provisions, and in the usual placement routine. It didn't seem too difficult. When I told her that, she just smiled, and gave me her home number, and her Dad's number as well.

I drove Emily over to the new warehouse building and showed her some of the machines we were going to be placing. I won't say she was fascinated, but she was at least politely interested. It was only about four thirty when we drove over to our hotel. Emily didn't seem concerned that we had only one suite, and when I told her I'd let her choose the bedroom she wanted, she went straight to the bigger one to put her things away.

We went out for dinner, both of us having big steaks, with sauteed mushroom caps, and all the usual trimmings. You really couldn't get a bad steak in Omaha. At least I never did. During dinner, Emily asked me questions about how much commission we got for each machine. I told her we got two hundred and fifty dollars for a three year placement contract.

"How much did it cost you for all those cleaning ladies?"

"Gerta arranged things. I was figuring on it costing around two hundred and fifty dollars, plus a little more for cleaning supplies."

"Suppose we don't get any contracts signed?"

"We will. There are a lot of places that don't have vending machines for their employees. I already talked to people at both airports, and they agreed to taking a machine for their employee operations and break rooms."

"What am I supposed to be doing? I don't know anything about these machines."

"You stand around and look pretty. That will distract them, and they won't check all the fine print that Rob had his lawyers stick into these contracts."

"You're paying me two hundred and fifty dollars just to stand there?"

"No. I'm rescuing you from a weekend you were going to spend in drudgery. One that you were dreading. This vending machine thing was just the excuse I'm using to make it palatable for you and your mother."

"Oh. That works for me. So are you planning on just rescuing me, or are you going to ravish me as well?"

"It would have to just be a quickie, I need to get a good night's sleep so I can be at my best tomorrow."

"These airport people work on Sunday's?"

"Probably not. I'm just going to drop the contracts off in their office if they aren't there. You picked the days to clean, not me. I can only work with what you give me."

"I like being rescued by you. That was another thing I liked when we were together. You always tried to protect me. Sometimes, I think my mom was right, and I should have let you be the boss."

"That would only have lasted until we found something else we disagreed about. There is no way we could ever change enough to stop that from happening. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out a way I could change any more than I already had."

"Getting back to that quickie ravishment you promised. When you said quickie, what exactly did you mean?"

"I meant we go to bed, I put it in, and move it around a few times, then roll over and go to sleep."

"That hardly qualifies as a ravishment. I was thinking that we could do some kissing, and then you could play with me a little, before you ate my pussy. After I come a few times, then you can do your quickie thing."

"I'm going to need my jaw loose for talking tomorrow. If I do what you want me to do, I might have a difficult time speaking clearly. How about if I rub you with my hand for thirty seconds, and kiss your neck a little?"

"How about you lick me for ten minutes, and then I'll get on top and do all the rest?"

"Okay, but you have to get up after and soak the face cloth in warm water and clean us both off, and you have to clean me first."

"Can I call home first? I need to make sure the house is really getting cleaned good before I let you ravish me."

"Are you sure your mom knows enough about cleaning to give you an accurate report on the progress being made?"

"My mother is a very good house wife. She knows how to keep a very clean house. She's been upset and distracted because we lost all our money."

"Call her then. I'm sure you'll find that Gerta sent over her very best girls."

I listened to Emily and her mother talking on the phone for forty minutes. It wasn't all about the house cleaning either, although that was covered during the first five minutes, and Emily seemed pleased with whatever her mother was telling her. She talked about the flight, about our visit to the Lucas Company, our dinner, she even talked about the suite we were in. I was growing a little impatient with waiting for her to get off the phone.

"Mom, I've got to get off the phone now, because our talking is keeping Kenny from getting all the rest he says he needs for his sales calls tomorrow. Poor baby. He says he's too tired to do anything, and I was hoping he'd take me out to a movie or something. I'll call you from Bolling tomorrow."

When she hung up, finally, she went into her bedroom and shut the door. I waited about ten minutes, for her to come back out, but when she didn't, I went into the other bedroom, got undressed and went to bed. I tried to replay our conversation before she called her mother. The only thing I'd said that might have possibly offended her was when I had kidded her about her mother's cleaning knowledge.

I woke up again around three in the morning, got up for a glass of water, and walked out into the living room. Emily's bedroom door was open, and she was lying naked, on top of her covers. She had a hand between her legs, but she wasn't moving it. I spent a couple minutes looking at her sleeping.

Because her door was open, I knew she'd come back out at least once. I wondered if she had come out looking for me, or if it was just to get a drink or something. I went back into my room, and this time I left my door open too.

Emily came in and got in my bed at around five o'clock. She woke me up, asking me to hold her. She was still naked, and when I pulled her in close to me, she snuggled in even closer. She didn't resist me at all. I'm not sure how I knew it, but I knew she just wanted me to hold her. Something warned me against trying to make love to her.

I fell asleep, holding her like that. I woke up at seven, and she was still nestled in my arms, asleep. I got up, showered, and then got dressed. At eight I woke her up, and we went into the living room to eat the room service I'd ordered the night before. I had French toast and a side order of ham, and a carafe of coffee. I'd gotten scrambled eggs and hash browns for Emily, with a rasher of bacon, and a large glass of milk. She managed to eat everything I'd ordered for her.

"You missed your chance last night, Kenny."

"That's all right. I enjoyed what we did do."

"We didn't do anything."

"You're a very sound sleeper." She giggled.

"So are you. I came into your bedroom last night, but you were already asleep, so I went back to my room."

"I wish I'd been awake."

"What time are we leaving?"

"I want to get to the airport before ten, and then we need to leave Omaha by noon."

"We have an hour to get ready to leave here?"

"Well, an hour or a few minutes longer. You don't need to break your neck hurrying."

"You weren't planning on us doing anything last night, were you?"

"I wasn't planning on it, but I knew it might happen. I wanted to leave it up to you."

"I wanted to leave it up to you too, although I thought I'd given you enough hints."

"If you hadn't shut your door, I might have come into your room. When I got up later, your door was open, but you were asleep."

"I wasn't asleep, I was playing with myself. I stopped when I heard something, and pretended to be asleep when you came in the doorway to look at me."

"You should have said something. I thought you were mad at me because of that comment I made about your mother's cleaning."

"Well, it's too late now. Like I said, you missed your chance."

"You missed yours too, you know."

"No, because I finished after you went back to your room."

"Well, if your counting that way, I didn't miss my chance either then."

She just looked at me, not knowing if I was lying to her, or telling the honest truth. We were both dressed, packed and down in the lobby at a little bit after nine thirty, getting to the Omaha airport before ten o'clock.

At the airport, I checked in with our pilot and told him to be ready to leave from noon on. Emily and I headed over to the main commercial terminal to look for the airport manager. He wasn't in, but when I told the man in charge what I was there for, he called the manager at home. He and I spoke for only about two minutes. I left the contract with his assistant, and gave him Virginia's office number in case he had any questions about the contract. I had asked him if he had another place he wanted to put a second machine, but he said he just wanted the one machine to begin with. They had an operating contract with another vending operation for the terminal. This machine was not for the terminal itself, or for the general public.

We left early, getting back to the Bolling terminal at a little after noon. The airport manager was in when we got there, and he and I went over the contract for about half an hour before he signed it. I gave him a copy, and he said he had to take it to the airport board for their approval, but that it was only a formality. He'd already gotten verbal approval for putting in machines.

"How many machines were you wanting to start with?"

"We thought two, one on either end of the terminal, and then a third one, down below, in the employee changing area. The cafeteria closes down at five, and we've been getting complaints about there being nothing to eat after they leave. It's a concession that they bid on, so we can't make them stay open later. We're hoping these machines will goose them into being more reasonable in the future."

"This contract is for three years. They aren't going to like it."

"We know. They have a ten year concession, with an option for another ten at the end of it, but this first year hasn't been anything like what we were hoping for. We can't bring in another operator, not under the terms of their concession contract, but there's nothing in it that says we can't put as many soda and snack machines in here as we want. We've got three new soda machines coming in here in about two weeks. We don't care if they like it or not."

I filled in the contract for three machines and he initialed the change on my original, and I initialed it on his copy. We shook hands and that was it. I promised to try to get an expedited delivery for him.

Two months after we had put our machines in the Bolling terminal, my father hired a salesman who was also a licensed private pilot, to fly his plane around to every small commercial airport, to try to get our machines placed in them. Travelers are the best customers for vending snack foods.

I was driving us back to Ridgeline before two o'clock. Halfway there, Emily asked me what time it was. I pointed to the clock in the dash.

"It's so early. Do you think they've finished cleaning yet?"

"We'll be there in a few more minutes, and you'll find out. You aren't feeling guilty about not being there to help out, are you?"

"How much did we make on this trip?"

"A thousand dollars."

"So, five hundred is mine, right?"

"That was our deal."

"How much did using the plane cost?"

The plane, the pilot, the hotel and the meals probably came to at least a thousand dollars. That's all part of the cost of doing business though. Expense account money."

"Really? So the five hundred is mine to pay for the cleaners?"

"Gerta will pay them, and she'll tell me what we owe. It will be around four hundred and twenty dollars she said. You pay half and I'll pay half out of my commission. That way we both make the same for the work we did."

"I didn't do anything."

"That just isn't true. You had me getting up this morning feeling all mean and aggressive. I could have never placed three machines in Bolling, not unless I had that mean attitude I got from seeing your gorgeous naked body, and not being able to make love to you. You earned every penny. You're a terrific inspiration."

"So, does this mean our business is all done?"

"Yes."

"Good. Take me to your Uncle's house. Now that I'm no longer working for you, it's got to be all right if I fuck you again."

"Are you using me to get out of the cleaning up being done at your house?"

"No. I've been working hard all weekend. I deserve some time off, and this is my last chance to sleep with you before my dad gets home."

"Are you sure it isn't because you still love me, and you want to share a few tender moments nestled in my arms?"

"I'm sure. I'm not in the mood for any more tender. This morning was enough tender for me. This afternoon, I want you to hold me down and make me scream when I come. You know how I like it the best. You can be tender when you're driving me home tonight."

If that was truly how Emily preferred it, she got her wish. The rougher I treated her, the more excited she seemed to get. I turned her over on her stomach a few minutes after the third time we fucked, and I kept her pinned down with her face pressed down on the mattress while I plundered her pussy from behind. After a long time fucking, her pussy lost all of it's earlier lubrication, but I wouldn't stop, not until I finally came again.

We had finally exhausted each other to the point where neither of us wanted to have contact with the other. We were in the same bed, but separated by as much space as we could find. Emily had curled up into a tight ball on her side, and she was just staring at me, with a strange look on her face. I finally had to ask her what the look meant.

"Is what you just did really how you feel about me? That hurt me when you kept on fucking me after I got dry."

"It hurt me too. It rubbed some skin off my dick. It was how I was feeling over knowing this might be our last time. I was mad that it keeps turning out like this for us. I'm not mad at just you, Em. I'm mad at myself too. I keep thinking it shouldn't have to be like this. I'm sorry if I hurt you though."

"You think this was really our last time?"

"With us, any time might be the last time. I feel like every time we get together like this, we're saying goodbye to each other. To this part of each other. You keep telling me this is your favorite part of us, and that makes me feel worse, because I know why the sex is so good with us, and it isn't just because of what we're doing. It's all the feeling too. If it was only the physical, I wouldn't be so upset. I'd just marry Joyce, like Mama wants me to do. She fucks just fine, physically. It's a shame I don't have the same kind of feelings for her that I have for you."

"That is the worst thing you could have ever said to me. We're just finishing up after making love for two hours, and you tell me that you're thinking about marrying Joyce?"

"I said that sex with you is a lot more than just physical for me. I didn't say I wanted to marry Joyce, or that I planned on marrying her."

"You've thought about it though?"

"I told you about that dream I had. It was down to you and Joyce. You were both pregnant, and I wanted to marry you, but Mama kept pushing me at Joyce, and pulling you closer to her. I've always wanted it to be you, ever since I had the dream. If it isn't you, then who does that leave?"

"You can take me home now, Kenny. Thank you for helping us clean our house. I'll tell my father to expect to see you on Tuesday evening, but after that, don't come to my house anymore, and don't call me either. I hope you and Joyce will be happy together. You never told me the part of your dream where Joyce was the other girl. I always thought it was Brenda. In my mind, it was always Brenda I was competing against for you. I knew I'd never win against Brenda."

"I don't see why it makes such a difference to you."

"You don't. No, of course, you don't see why. I'm a lot better looking than Joyce could ever hope to be. I can see how it would be easy to get you to love me more than her. I didn't try as hard as I might have, if I knew it was against Joyce."

"You shouldn't have to try. I don't try, or act any different because I want you to love me. I'm myself when I'm with you. Why would you even need to be trying?"

"You claim that, but it isn't true. You do act different around me than you did around Shirley, or around Brenda. I tried to make myself more like them, so you'd love me, and treat me like you loved and treated them."



-------

Chapter 32

After I drove Emily home, we both went inside to see how the house cleaning had turned out. All four of the cleaning ladies were still hard at work, but I found Gary and Kitty sitting in the family room, watching television, and enjoying bowls of ice cream.

I had a difficult time not laughing out loud at them both. I also wondered, if my intervention had really helped any of them. All of the downstairs was finished, and the women were finishing up the last of the upstairs bedrooms.

Emily was busy talking with Kitty about our success in placing vending machines, and Kitty was telling her how pleased she was with the way the cleaning women had done such a thorough cleaning of the house. I sat down next to Gary, and asked him how things were going.

"Are you and Emily back together again?"

"No. We're friends still though."

"You guys should make up, Kenny. She's been a real bear around here since forever. She makes it miserable for the rest of us."

"Em told me that you were pretty upset about our break up. She said you've been keeping in touch with that girl you met out in California too. Hard to see much future when a girl lives so far away from you."

"We write some. I might visit her after she gets back home from her school. It's only four hundred and some miles. I could take a bus there if they'd let me. I'd like to see her again. She was nice. I felt comfortable talking to her."

Kitty had come over and was standing in front of where Gary and I were sitting. I looked up, and she was smiling at me.

"Thank you for coming up with a way for us to be able to afford to have help with the house. Emily has been telling me how successful your sales trip was. She said you made a thousand dollars with only two sales calls. That is very impressive. Is this vending placement business something that anyone can do, or do you have to be trained for it?"

"We usually train the vending sales people, but I guess I'm a special case. My parents always encourage me to participate in all parts of their business. I had already spoken to both the airport managers while I was waiting to fly out of their airports. It isn't always as easy to get in to see the owners, or the people in charge, the ones who need to make the decisions, and sign our contracts."

"I was thinking about doing something to help out with our finances, now that the children are almost grown."

"I'm sure I could get my Dad to hire you, if you wanted a job. What kind of experience do you have?"

"I've never worked outside the home, but, I'm very capable of doing so, given an opportunity. I was thinking of something I could do part time, during the summer, and later, while the children were in school. I wouldn't expect to make too much at first."

"Do you think you might like to open new locations for our vending machines in this area? It wouldn't take long for you to learn how to do it, and there isn't too much competition in these rural areas. Maybe you could service the accounts too? I could show you how to do that. It doesn't take that long to learn either."

"I'd need to ask Jerry, but, it might help our situation some, until his book finally gets published. Can I let you know in a week or so?"

"Sure, you know how to get in touch with me. I'll be home more after Tuesday."

"Did you and Emily have another fight? She left for her room, without saying anything to you."

"Not a fight, just some carryover from what we've been going through. It hasn't been easy for us to get used to not being together, at least not together like we were before."

"I know. She has told me about some of the problems. I told her she would find it much easier if she stopped trying to push you into areas you didn't want to go."

"She isn't able to do that, Kitty, but it isn't just her. We both are pretty headstrong, and we both need to get our own way. Our next battle was always just a few words away. Some things just aren't meant to be. We're coming to terms with that, but it isn't something you can adjust to overnight. It will take us awhile, maybe a long while. I've got to get home. Tell Em goodbye for me, and tell her I'm sorry."

I was home for about fifteen minutes before my phone rang, it was Emily.

"You're not sorry. Don't tell my mother you're sorry when you aren't."

"I should know if I'm sorry or not. If I said I'm sorry, it's because I am. At least I didn't leave without trying to say goodbye."

"Don't give my mother a job, Kenny. My father made this mess, and he has to be the one to fix it."

"Okay, but she could do the job I figured out for her. She has the time to do it too. What does she do all day in that big house? I know it isn't cleaning." Emily giggled. I was making progress.

"I'm asking you not to hire her."

"Okay, I won't. You could do the job too, you know? You'd be good at it, and it would give you something to do over the summer. I'm sure you could make enough to buy all your school clothes, and to pay for your own auto insurance and gas for your car. It might be good for you to find out what working is like."

"I work already in school. The summer isn't for working, it's to rest up for when school starts up again. I already told you my dad wasn't going to let me keep the car."

"You don't want the job then? I told you the car was your problem, not mine. Don't bring it back here."

"No, I don't want the job. Don't tell me what to do about the car anymore either. I'll do what I decide. Besides, I'm through with you after Tuesday, so I don't have to listen anymore to what you tell me."

"All right, but I don't remember you listening to what I told you that much anyway. I listen to you though, and I heard what you said. I won't bother you if you really mean it. You can call me if you ever change your mind, and you want to be friends again."

"I won't change my mind this time. If I need to come over to see Joyce, or your mother, don't try to speak to me. Don't even say hello."

"Aren't you carrying this a little past what is normal? How about if I just nod at you? Would that be all right?"

"You can nod, but don't expect me to nod back. I'm done with you. Don't call me, and don't come to see me."

-------

Dad and Joyce took off from work early just to be at my graduation. Jane and Grace were there, and so were Gerta and Hans. All of them bought me graduation presents. Mama had taken the whole day off from the golf academy. She was a lot more excited about my graduation than I was.

I was awarded the school prize for mathematics, so I was called up in front of everyone to accept the award. It was a small medallion in a box with the school's name and Latin motto on one side, and the word, 'Mathematics', and the date, '1986', on the other side.

I was leaving the stage to go back down the stairs, to sit back in my place, when I noticed Emily standing up in the back of the auditorium. I pretended not to notice her, but I got a lump in my throat that she had decided to come watch me graduate on her own like that.

At home, we had a big celebration dinner. Gerta had made a lot of my favorite foods, and we all had wine with dinner. Mama had given me the deed to the building that Marie and Grace's restaurant was located in, as her graduation present to me. Dad had purchased me flying lessons, and said he and I would pick out a plane together, once I had my pilot's license.

He said he wanted to make it easier for me to bring my dirty laundry home on weekends, after I was in college. Mama was worried about me learning to fly, but Dad told her he wished he had learned to fly when he was younger. He said it would have given him a lot more opportunities to look over potentially profitable investments. Mama stopped protesting when Dad told her that private planes had a better safety record than automobiles, when compared over the same distances covered.

Hans and Gerta had bought me a four day golf vacation in Hawaii, including airfare, hotel, and green fees. It was for right after Christmas, and would have me back home before New Years.

The party broke up before seven. I'd mentioned to Mama that I'd told Emily I'd drop by, over at her house, because her father wanted to speak with me. She looked at me funny when I'd told her that, but she didn't ask any questions. I wasn't looking forward to the meeting with Mr. Carstairs, but I figured I had done enough, against his wishes, to give him the right to yell at me, and to tell me again that he didn't like me.

When I rang their bell, right before seven thirty, Emily came to answer the door. I stood there, looking at her, and then I nodded at her.

"You can talk to me today, act natural around me when my parents are around."

"Thank you for coming to watch me graduate."

"You didn't tell me you were getting a prize."

"No one knows until they announce the winners. It wasn't that big a deal anyway."

"My dad's in his office. We better get this over with. He and my mom have been fighting since he got back home."

We came to his office, and Emily knocked softly on his door.

"Come in." Emily opened the door, and Mr. Carstairs was seated at his desk. "You may leave, Emily. Come in Ken, thank you for coming." I walked into the room, and he indicated a chair behind his desk. If I sat in it, I'd be facing his back. I stayed standing.

"Did you have a good flight back?"

"It was long, but I was so busy scribbling out my ideas and fleshing out new pages, that it went quite quickly. My connection required a three hour layover in New York, but even that proved positive, as it gave me an opportunity to speak, at length, with my editor. She's very excited with what I've sent in thus far. In all, I'd say it was a good trip home."

"Emily has told me that your research went well, and that you're pleased with the book's new direction."

"Extremely pleased. Unless I'm badly mistaken, this book will be my best effort to date. I'm hoping for really big things with this one. My editor referred to it as a 'breakthough' book. I've always felt that I've been something of a success as a writer, but I've never had a book that was a run away best seller. This could be that for me."

"I'm happy for you. I really hope it turns out to be all that you're wishing for."

"Yes. Thank you. Which, of course, brings us back to the reason I asked Emily to invite you over here tonight. I'm given to understand that today was your high school graduation. Congratulations on that. I also have been told that you will be attending Notre Dame in the fall. Excellent school, top rate. Again, I must congratulate you."

"Thank you."

"There are, however, several other matters that I find disturbing, and, frankly, irritating. The money you insisted that Mrs. Carstairs take from you, and that damned car you gave to Emily. I thought I'd made myself quite clear about not taking further loans from you?"

"Yes, sir. You did make your preference known to me. Unfortunately, I found out that the money you accepted as a loan from me, wasn't going to be adequate to meet your family's needs. We all thought you would be engaged in a longer period of research. Your wife returned the money, once she found out you were able to complete your research a lot sooner than anyone had anticipated."

"What about that automobile? That is a valuable car."

"I bought a new one, and I didn't need the old one anymore."

"You could have traded it in when you bought the new one. That is what most of us do."

"It was mine to do with as I wished, and I wished to gift your daughter with it. She had her license, but no automobile to drive. She has been assisting our family with a project we are involved in, and her having her own transportation was a large help to us. She is far more effective in assisting us now."

"I am also informed that you and Emily are no longer romantically involved."

"I can't speak for Emily in that regard, but I am still romantically involved. Perhaps not too successfully, but I still consider myself involved."

"My wife has been telling me what I need to do, Ken. This is a new behavior, one she has never felt the need to exhibit over the course of our long and, mostly, successful marriage. It is, moreover, a behavior I do not particularly care for."

"Marriage is a partnership. I'm surprised that her behavior is new to you. At my house, my mother makes her wishes known to my father with great frequency and regularity. I doubt a single day passes without her telling him, in some detail, what she wants and expects."

"This is my house though, and this isn't what I am accustomed to. It isn't something I will easily tolerate. I never had to tolerate it either, not until you came into our lives."

"As near as I can determine, Kitty has followed your wishes whenever it was possible for her to do so. If she isn't following them now, perhaps the fault is yours."

"You come into my house and have the impertinence to find me at fault for a situation that you created in my absence?"

"I didn't create the problem. All I did was propose a possible, temporary, solution for it. Your new book should provide the permanent solution."

"You throw your money around in front of two very susceptible women. Of course, in our present, temporary circumstances, they are going to be seduced by it. You've shamed me in front of both my wife and my daughter. Add in Gary too, for good measure. Now, I've been given an ultimatum. I either have to accept your offer of financial help, or go to my family and beg them for the money to see me through to the book's publication."

"If it would help you, I can withdraw my earlier offer."

"That wouldn't help at all. Borrowing the money from you grates on every fiber of my being. It is still infinitely better than having to go crawling to my family, with my hand out, like a beggar. If I'm either going to be branded as a hypocrite, or as a failed beggar, I prefer being a hypocrite. What do you want of me, as your price for making us the loan?"

"I'll have another check sent here tomorrow. Will thirty five thousand be enough to see you through to publication?"

"Come now, you must want something of me? Sixty thousand dollars is too large a sum, even for someone of your means, to just hand over without expecting something in return."

"There is nothing that you can give me, that I want. I will worry less about Emily, and her family, and that, along with not having Emily worry, is all I ever wanted. Please let me know if the money isn't going to be enough."

"Thank you for your generosity. I don't deserve it."

"You're welcome, but I didn't do it for you."

I left, and Emily was standing in the living room watching as I came out. Kitty and Gary were sitting in the living room as well, but they remained where they were seated. I called out a goodbye to them and started walking to the door. Emily had run ahead to open it for me.

"Did he ask you?"

"Yes. It's all settled, don't worry anymore."

"I was afraid he wouldn't ask, or that you'd tell him no, if he did. I need to go tell my mom before he comes out of his office. Thank you, Kenny. We'll pay you back, I promise. Did you settle things about my car too?"

"No. I told him why I thought he should let you keep it, but we didn't settle anything about what he was going to do. I think you should just go on like you have been, and see if he brings it up again."

We stood beside the open door of my car, discussing with each other this talk I'd just concluded with her father. She told me again that it was going to be the end of all contact with each other.

Emily kept telling me this, repeating that she didn't want me coming over or calling her after I left. She meant after we finished having this conversation. As soon as I got in my car and drove away, that was going to be it. We kept talking, just enough so we would have an excuse to stand there, looking at each other.

I'm pretty sure she was expecting me to give her a hug or a kiss or something, but I didn't want her to think my business with her father had anything to do with our relationship, or with the problems we were having.

That was a separate issue to me, and I didn't want it mixed together in her mind. Our relationship problems had nothing to do with what had just happened with her father.

I drove back home, and spent an hour in the kitchen with Hans and Gerta. Hans was telling Gerta and me stories about Uncle Bunny, when he was a student in high school. The stories were funny, and, somewhat off color too, with Hans describing some of the action he was witness to when Uncle Bunny was entertaining in the back of the limo.

I wished that Uncle Bunny could have been there to see the way Hans and Gerta felt about him. I remembered what Elizabeth had told me about Uncle Bunny always wondering if he'd made much of a difference with his life. There we were, three people sitting around the kitchen table, we each could have reassured him on that score. Of all the high school graduation presents I'd received, Uncle Bunny's was the best. He had given me my whole future.

-------

I had the whole summer to get my emotions back into some kind of shape. All of the group home business was taking me less than two hours a day to do, now that I was fully caught up. The new construction on the boy's extension was back on track, and all of the existing group homes were busy planning for their summer trips.

I had given each set of house parents a budget for each of their two trips. They could go anywhere in the lower forty eight states, as long as the trip stayed within the budget we had allocated to them.

Sandy had come up with the idea of inviting the relief house parents to come along too, as unpaid guests. I would cover their travel expenses, and they would travel, in their own vehicles, traveling with two sets of the group homes for one of their vacation trips. Sandy said having two extra adults along would make everything easier for the house parents, and it would seem natural for the boys to have their 'grandparent's' along for the trips too.

Both set of relief parents were enthusiastic about making the trip, so I told Sandy to keep them on at their regular pay, and I just increased the trip budgets by enough to cover the extra expense.

Somehow, Sandy talked me into letting her take two of the two week trips with the group homes also, meaning that Joyce and I would be responsible for handling anything that happened at the group homes while she was on vacation.

I called Todd Pennysworth, managing to talk him into filling in for the month that Sandy Templeton would be off vacationing with the group home kids. He was already busy with interviewing potential house parents and relief parents.

As a retired social worker himself, he had a bias towards other current or former social workers. I told him I wanted younger, more energetic couples as the group home parents. People with a lot of energy and stamina to watch out for six active boys.

He told me he was looking for people who were familiar with the system. When I had hired him, it was because he was filled with ideas about how to change and improve the system. I didn't want people familiar with the system.

"Todd, I don't want people who know how to write up progress reports on how the boy's are responding to their environments. Those never mean anything, except that the report writer knows how to use the correct buzz words. I want parents that will play with the boys, take them out to Little League practice, and give them rides over to their friend's houses when they need them. I want people who would make great parents, but who don't yet have children of their own. People who will love the boys. The key word is parents, not house."

We arrived at a sort of compromise. All four of the house parent couples he hired were people like I'd asked him for. Both sets of relief parents were friends of his, people that he'd worked with in social services.

My mother told me that Brenda was back in town. Her school, like mine, let out earlier than the public schools. Mama told me that she had gone out to lunch with Brenda and her mother, and that she was very impressed with the changes she saw in Brenda's whole attitude. I just smiled, and made only neutral comments. I knew Brenda could act. She had always been able to do that.

I was at the club hitting golf balls later in the week when I first saw Brenda and Richard drive up in a new Pick up. It was a fancy one, with those big, oversized, tires that some of the kids like to put on their trucks. Richard looked better than when I last saw him. Brenda looked just the same as she'd been the last time I saw her. She had the same physical effect on me. Neither of them has seen me as they walked into the back of the clubhouse.

Richard had finished up at the Army and Navy Academy in California. He had graduated, and, according to Mama, he'd been made a lieutenant sometime in the latter part of his senior year. He had fulfilled all of the requirements in Uncle Bunny's bequest, and Frank Clooney had distributed the money to him, as he was required to do.

Richard could go to any college he could get into, and all his tuition and expenses would be paid by the estate, for as long as he remained enrolled. There was a generous spending allowance attached to it too. I guess Uncle Bunny wanted both of them to at least consider getting a college education.

I had gone back to hitting balls, and it was at least fifteen minutes later, when Brenda came out to say hello to me. I noticed that Richard hadn't come with her.

"Well, Kenny, still hitting golf balls. Some things never change, do they?"

"Hi, Brenda, Mama told me you'd gotten back. How was school?"

"It was good. I made some good friends, and I've managed to learn some things."

"Learning is always a good thing."

"Did you see Richard's new wheels?"

"Yes, I saw it when you guys pulled in. Big tires. I bet they cut way down on his gas mileage."

"He doesn't care. He's rich. I asked him to let me have some, until next year when I get mine, but he's still the same jerk he always was. I called Emily. She told me you two broke up again."

"It sure seems like we did. I'm leaving in a couple of months anyway, so maybe its for the best."

"Your mother told us. Notre Dame. You're going to have to work harder there. You should have picked a party school, so you could enjoy yourself more."

"Well, it seemed like a good choice for me. A lot of nice Catholic girls go there."

"Catholic girls?"

"Yes. I couldn't marry a girl who wasn't part of my faith. I was raised in a Catholic orphanage. That sort of thing is very important to me."

"You never told me that before. I didn't even think you were religious. What about all those rubbers you used? Catholics don't use birth control."

"I never said I was a good Catholic. That's why they have confessions, just in case you slip up."

"What are you doing for girlfriends now that you and Emily split up?"

"There's a girl who lives at our house with us. She let's me do things with her whenever I want to. It's convenient, and it keeps me from messing around with other girls, the kind who might carry social diseases."

"Is that the girl that Emily was telling me about? The one you might marry?"

"I'm not marrying anyone. I'm going to go to college. Emily likes to exaggerate."

"I don't have any social diseases."

"I'm happy to know that you've been spared."

"I thought you should know that, in case that was what you were implying."

"Brenda, it doesn't matter to me, one way or the other. I've already stopped having any interest in you that would impact on me if you did. Emily and I agreed not to contact each other, and I was hoping that you and I could make that same agreement."

"I wanted to play a lot of tennis this summer. I thought we could play some tennis together."

"I no longer play the game."

"You could start back playing again. Are you afraid of playing tennis with me?"

"I've got too many other commitments, things I'd rather spend my free time pursuing."

"I tried being friendly with you. I told your mother I'd try. You still keep being mad at me for something that happened a long time ago. I'm a different person now. I told you I was sorry."

"I'm as friendly with you right now as I can stand being. I'm willing to act politely when we meet somewhere in public. I'd do the same with Richard. That doesn't mean I want to spend more time with you than I have to. I need to get back to hitting some balls. My long irons are terrible."

Brenda shook her head from side to side and walked back towards the clubhouse. I watched her walking away. She still had a great ass. I remembered how she looked when I made her pussy squirt out her juices, back when I licked her on my bed. My dick was erect, but my head was clear. I still didn't like her, but there was simply no denying her beauty, or the fact that she could get me horny just from looking at her. I was glad that my self control had improved.



-------

Chapter 33

At dinner that night, Mama gave me a real earful about being so rude to Brenda. I let her get it all out of her system. She finally ran down and asked me what I had to say for myself.

"I saw her at the club, with Richard. She stopped over at the practice range and we talked for awhile. We got into a disagreement about how much contact we were going to have. I suggested none, and she thought I should forget the past and start over again. That's when I started being rude. Before that, I was merely aloof and distant."

"Did you tell her you were too busy to partner with her in tennis?"

"I told her I was busy, and that there were a lot of other things I'd rather be doing. I don't want to associate with Brenda anymore. That goes for tennis, for taking her to bed, talking to her, it goes for all of it. I'm done with her. Period."

"Did you tell her that you and Joyce were intimate?" I laughed. Brenda hadn't changed a bit.

"I might have indirectly inferred that such was the case. I didn't mention Joyce by name. I think I said there was a girl who lived with us, and she let me do things with her whenever I wanted to."

"Did you accuse Brenda of having social diseases?"

"No. I said one of the advantages in the arrangement I alluded to was that it kept me from going out and messing around with girls who might carry social diseases. You don't carry any, do you, Joyce?"

"Not yet, so you better not bring any home to me." Joyce was enjoying listening as Mama and I batted this Brenda thing around. I was glad she hadn't taken offense by what I'd said to Brenda.

"I'm trying my best, but Mama keeps sending all these girls after me. Luckily, I'm able to resist most of them."

"I did not send her after you. I might have mentioned that you like to hit golf balls most mornings, but anything else was her own doing."

"I thought you were saving me for Joyce, Mama. Do you think she's happy that you encourage others to compete with her?"

"If you were progressing faster with that courtship, I might refrain from my other meddling."

"If you ever refrain, it will be because you've stopped breathing. I expect that you'll bring over one or two girls to introduce to me on my wedding day. You'll probably tell Brenda where my bride and I will be honeymooning."

"Kenny, you are really very witty. You're especially amusing when you're trying to be difficult. Don't you know that your behavior today will just encourage Brenda? She wanted you before today, but now, she sees it as a challenge."

"She might even win the challenge, Mama. There are parts of me that are still very responsive to her charms. My head though, it's grown up enough now that it realizes she would always be a huge disaster for me. So, while it isn't inconceivable that Brenda will once again know what it feels like to be pierced by my mighty sword, her chances for gaining anything more than that are nil."

"Kenny, that was vulgar, and in very poor taste, considering the present company at this table."

"Really? Joyce, did my mentioning that I might allow Brenda to enjoy sexual congress with me offend any of your tender sensibility's? Or, did it make you just the tiniest bit excited? Would you like to watch?"

"Kenny, enough!" Mama had stood up when she said that. My Dad was sitting there, still wondering why we weren't all talking about something important, like business. Joyce was looking at me with a gaze I recognized from some time in the past. A time when Brenda and I were negotiating for a different kind of meeting.

"Would you like to watch or not, Joyce?"

"If you'd let me, I would." Joyce was flushed and embarrassed. She couldn't look at any of us. I wasn't just being cruel and vulgar. I had a plan in my mind too. It wasn't a good plan, I already knew that. Still, good or bad, it was something I could do to try to clear my emotional senses.

"You need a day off, Joyce. You work way too hard. Tomorrow, we'll go out to the pool at the club together. We'll have a nice lunch and sit around the pool and get all caught up on our plans for the future. You call Emily and tell her we'll all be there, and I'll call Brenda to let her know. After that, we'll see what happens."

"You want me to call Emily?"

"Sure. I just wish Shirley weren't so far along in her pregnancy. The more the merrier. Tomorrow, I'll entertain all offers. I'll be open to whatever I think is the most fun for me."

"Kenny. I forbid this. This is no way for a gentleman to be acting."

"What's the matter, Mama? You don't like me trying to broker my own deals? These are all the girls you've been trying to set me up with. If you have more in mind for later, let me know, and I'll invite them as well. I've got an almost free summer, no attachments, why not listen to all the offers?"

"I won't have this."

"We'll even call it the "Uncle Bunny Sweepstakes". Hans gave me the idea the other night. If it was good enough for Uncle Bunny, it's certainly good enough for me. I'll need to use Hans and the limo though, just like Uncle Bunny did. You'll loan him to me, won't you Mama? You can have him back, as soon as I leave for school."

"Kenny, aside from provoking your mother, what is it that you hope to accomplish? I had thought that you'd continue working at the company, just as you have in past summers. Is this not the case?" My dad was finally getting a little worked up too. We hadn't talked about what I'd be doing over the summer. I certainly wasn't planning on raffling myself off to the highest bidder every day down at the country club pool.

"Joyce and I will come to work on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, all through this summer. We'll also spend time talking together, and thinking about business, on the other two days. On those other days though, we'll also be playing. Sowing our wild oats. I think it might be easier if Joyce and I slept over at Uncle Bunny's most nights too. That way, we could plan out our strategies without offending Mama. Are you going to lend me Hans and the limo, Mama, or do you want me to hire some stranger, someone who won't report back to you about all the sordid stuff that's taking place?"

Mama stood up and excused herself from the dining table. Dad stayed seated. He wasn't done talking to me yet. Joyce was squirming all around on her chair. She was a lot more excited about what I proposed doing than I was.

"Kenny, I realize we can't prevent you from actually doing what you propose. I will ask that you not put this plan into action until you've had at least a few days to reconsider. What you are considering isn't a wise course of action. Bunny did things because he was powerless to do what he really wanted to do. You are not yet in that situation. Once you embark on your course, you might well regret it. It will change you, altering some of your values forever."

"I need to do something different. What I've been doing hasn't been working. Everyone tells me I should start taking all these girl problems less seriously, but no one tells me how I'm supposed to be doing that. Hans was telling me about some of the wild things Uncle Bunny used to do when he was my age, or even younger. They sounded like they were fun for him. It helped take his mind off some of his other problems. Are you worried about Joyce?"

"I'm concerned about both of you. Sex isn't supposed to be a sport."

"Mr. Parsons, I'm old enough to decide for myself. If Kenny wants to take me with him, then I'm going."

"This sort of thing appeals to you, Joyce?"

"I'm not sure about what Kenny has in mind, but if it's what we talked about before, then it does appeal to me. It appeals to me a lot."

"I hope you both won't regret what you're planning on doing. I believe Bunny regretted many of his actions."

Much to my surprise, Mama was up and in the kitchen talking to Hans and Gerta when I came down for breakfast the next morning.

"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?"

"Morning, Mama. I slept very well, thank you. And you?"

"I had a restless night, but your father spoke with me, and he convinced me that we needed to give you your head with this whim of yours."

"That's good, Mama. Maybe he's right. Joyce and I might get tired of playing this game right away. If we do, we'll try something more sensible."

"About Joyce. Did she really tell your father that doing this with you really appealed to her? A lot?"

"Mama, Joyce has a kinky side to her. We once came close to something like what I'm planning, but it didn't work out. I wouldn't ever make her participate in anything she didn't want. What about Hans and the limo, Mama?"

"Yes, you can borrow them both. I've already spoken with him about what we talked about."

"Hans, I don't mind you telling Mama about what I do, but if you can't agree not to tell her anything you see or hear about Joyce, then I'll go buy my own limo, and get someone else to drive it, someone who'll do only what I want. You know you've been hoping I'd do something like this. You don't want to get left out of all the fun we'll be having."

Hans looked over at Gerta, waiting for her to tell him if it was all right to agree to my demand. There was the usual pecking order between the three of them, and Hans was always at the bottom.

"Hans, you can't tell Gerta about Joyce either, because that's almost the same as telling Mama."

"Kenny, Hans tells me everything. We don't keep secrets." Gerta was serious when she told me this. Hans might not be keeping any secrets, but I doubted this was true about Gerta too.

"No more, Gerta. Now he has to promise not to tell either you or Mama. That's the deal. I don't mind all of you getting your jollies about what I'm doing, but I want Joyce's privacy respected."

Hans looked at Gerta, and Gerta kept looking over at Mama. I kept my eyes on Mama the whole time.

"I don't mind buying a limo, Mama. I'll use my new rental income to make the payments. You don't need to know what Joyce does."

"Very well, Kenny. Since you are so insistent. I am as concerned about Joyce's development as I am about your own. This isn't a fair trade. You get all of my concessions, now what am I getting?"

"Mama, you know as well as I do that you only have to ask Joyce what she's done. She'll tell you anything. All I'm insisting on is that you not try to get that information without her consenting to your having it."

Joyce came into the kitchen shortly after we finished working out the details. We would be spending most nights at home, but if there was something going on that required the need for privacy, we'd stay at Uncle Bunny's. Mama had finally come out and asked me if I was planning on being intimate with Joyce again. I hadn't answered her.

"Joyce, Mama asked me if I was planning on putting my little frog under your lily pads again. She seemed concerned that I might. Are you afraid of me burying my bone again?"

I could tell Mama was getting agitated again. She didn't much care for crude references to anything. That was part of the reason I had made them. I didn't want her harboring any illusions about what was going on.

"Kenny. You know I'm not afraid. Mama knows that too."

"Well, Mama wanted me to give her some concessions. Do you want me to promise her I won't slip you the high, hard one?"

Joyce looked over at Mama, then back to me. She shook her head back and forth, indicating she didn't want me to make that promise to Mama.

"That's good then, because what Mama really wanted was for me to stick it to you good. Right Mama?" I waited. Hans and Gerta waited too. Joyce was fidgeting around too, anxious to have Mama say that's what she wanted. "Mama didn't say anything, Joyce. She needed to say that's what she wanted me to do, because I don't want to take any chances with doing what she didn't want. Sorry, it looks like you're going to miss out on all the fun."

"If you insist on sharing yourself with half the town, there is certainly no reason to exclude Joyce." I knew telling me that had cost Mama a lot. She wasn't used to being backed down. I knew she didn't like it, but she wasn't about to remain silent and risk excluding Joyce from the festivities.

"Did you hear that, Joyce? Mama does want us to get nasty with each other. I think she wants me to like little girls. My real father liked little girls too, didn't he Hans?" Hans looked shocked. Mama looked shocked as well. Gerta looked very sad. I think she was the only one who had anticpated what was coming.

"How many kids have you had them come by and do DNA testing on Mama? I bet I'm not the only one. I read about that too, all the work they've been doing over at that university. I sent in some of my hair, and some of your father's hair, or should I say our father's hair, from your big family album. They were an easy match, but that was because they already had a sample from him and me, in their records. They still charged me the full price though."

"Kenny, can we please not have this discussion right now? I promise you we'll have it before you leave for Notre Dame." Mama was still sitting, but she was obviously flustered from what I'd just told her. She looked afraid. I wasn't used to that reaction from her.

"We don't even need to have any discussion Mama. I'm not upset about anything I've learned. Sometimes, knowing where I fit in is a little bit confusing, trying to remember what we all are to each other, but hasn't that always been the case? I think I'm meant to be the family breeder, the one who repopulates the depleted Chalmers genetic pool. Do I have that part right, Mama? I'm also guessing you used that DNA testing on Brenda and Richard, finding out that Brenda isn't really Uncle Bunny's child. Georgia really is my half sister though, because I had her tested too."

"Please, Kenny. I really need some time before we have to deal with this."

"Take all the time you need, Mama. I'm not going anywhere for the summer. Come on Joyce. I'm not really so hungry for breakfast anymore. Let's go over to Uncle Bunny's house so we can let Mama have some time to think. Hans, pick us up at Uncle Bunny's at noon, okay?"

"Sure, noon is good for me." Hans wasn't very sure whether he should feel bad about this development or not. To a German, keeping the bloodline going made perfect sense. Who was I to be complaining anyway? Everyone knew where I'd come from. I should just shut up and be thankful.

"Joyce pack enough stuff that you can get along for a week or two, and leave your birth control pills here. You won't be needing them for what I'm planning. If you get pregnant this summer, your future is assured. Right Mama?"

I went up to my room and packed all of my summer clothing. It wasn't far from my room to Uncle Bunny's house, not far at all. The big journey was the one I'd already made, from St. Cecilia's to Ridgeline.

At Uncle Bunny's house, Joyce called Emily and I called Brenda. Both agreed to meet us at the club for lunch, and to sit by the pool afterwards. Shirley was due sometime in the first week of July. It was doubtful that I'd be able to make her pregnant before I left for school. Mama was going to have to be content with Joyce, Brenda and Emily.

Uncle Bunny had rescued me for a reason, but it wasn't the reason I'd assumed. The important thing wasn't why he'd done it, just that he had. I still owed him a debt I could never repay. I'd give him and Mama what they had so desperately wanted and needed. It wouldn't even be a sacrifice for me to do it. I already loved all these girls anyway.

I would continue all the other things just as they were too, doing what I could to be prepared to take over for Dad when the time came.

I planned to keep adding new modular extensions until the day came when there weren't enough orphan boys left to fill up our existing spaces.

None of my own children, no matter who their mother might be, would ever spend a day without knowing they were loved.

So many times I'd heard the word responsibility. Mama believed I had a responsibility to her, and to the family. I certainly couldn't complain about any of the concessions I'd been given. I was now ready to do my part.



-------

Chapter 34

"And so, ladies, that's the deal. Have babies with me, and live a life of leisure forever after. I'm planning on offering the same deal to Shirley, as soon as she's ready to get pregnant again. I'm expecting to give Mama at least ten grand kids, with at least five of them being boys. All of my children will have the last name, Chalmers, since the name was my right at birth. I will continue to be Parsons. Any questions?"

"You don't really expect any of us to agree to being your brood mares do you?" I looked at Emily, she was as mad as I'd ever seen her. The fact that she'd remained sitting in her lounger at the pool, was testimony only to the horrible fascination she had felt as I spun my plan out for her.

"I agree to it. Just because you really like girls, Emily, that doesn't mean the rest of us don't want to be normal people." Brenda had never been a question mark in my mind. I knew she would go for it.

"I agree to it too. This is perfect for me." Joyce was beaming over at me, thrilled to be included in my plans. I knew she'd need a C section with the slim hips she still possessed. I wondered how Dad was going to take the news that I'd made his best employee pregnant. He liked to look far ahead though. I'm sure he would realize that ten or more new little Chalmers babies would be a good investment for the future of the company, in the long run.

"You can do it if you want to Brenda, but I never will." Emily was standing up. She was going to be gone, and soon, if I didn't find a way to make her stop. Emily had been the one fly in my ointment. I knew she wasn't likely to go for the same proposal that the others would accept.

"I'd marry you, Emily. The babies are for the family, but I want you for myself."

"I'm supposed to let you fuck all these other girls, but you want me for yourself?"

"I need ten babies so Mama will stop worrying about her bloodline. I love all four of you in different ways, but you're the only one I'd ever marry, Emily."

"Well, I wouldn't marry you. This is such a sick and disgusting idea. You must think we're all pretty desperate. I'm not."

"You'd never have to do any housework, a new car every year, you could shop anywhere you wanted to. When we weren't fighting, I'd even let you come live with me, in Uncle Bunny's house. I won't go through with this plan without you. If you agree to try it out, I'll have Brenda lick your pussy, until you tell her to quit."

"Hey, that's not part of the deal." Brenda didn't like it that Emily was getting a lot better offer than she was. With what I'd just added, she had to raise a protest. While Brenda was fuming and protesting, Joyce was wiggling all around on her lounger. She looked fascinated by everything that was unfolding.

"I'm making it part of the deal. There is no deal without Emily. We can still do the deal without you, but Emily has to be in on it, or else I won't even make the deal."

"How come she gets to marry you?" Brenda didn't try to hide her anger. She had reached a point where she had convinced herself that she was being wronged. Like Mama, Brenda felt she was due a concession also.

"Because I want to marry her." I bit off the words. For me, Brenda was the least important of the three. Mama wanted her though, her actions had made that clear to me.

"I'm not in, Kenny. I shouldn't even have come today, but Joyce made me curious." Emily had almost sat back down when I said I'd marry her. Now she was getting ready to leave again.

"Because she told you that Brenda would be here. Did I mention that I wasn't jealous about anything you and Brenda did when you were alone together? I know you still think about her a lot. I seem to remember that Brenda used to like the way you licked her pussy. I bet that Brenda has gotten over her dislike for reciprocating. All that time she's been in that girl's boarding school, I'll bet you she's gotten some good experience at eating pussy."

Emily sat back down. She didn't say anything, but I was pretty sure she was willing to watch and listen, to see how it was all going to be played out.

"What about Shirley? Why do you think she'd go along with this stupid plan of yours?" Emily was interested. She'd never have asked about Shirley if she wasn't considering doing it herself.

"I'm not as sure about her. If she wants to be a part of it, she's welcome. If she doesn't, then that's okay too. She wasn't even in my dream, but you other three were."

"You want us all to do all this because of some stupid dream you had. Dreams don't mean anything."

"It wasn't just a dream, Em. That's not why I'm doing this either. I already told you that I have problems with all of you. The worst of my problems are with Brenda, but I'm willing to set them aside, for you. Most of what I'm doing here is for Mama, and for you. You can have Brenda and me. You don't have to choose, and you don't have to act or pretend."

"She doesn't want me. She's already said that. I thought you weren't going to force people to do what they don't want to do?" Emily was back to glaring at me. I had known from the beginning that this was a bad idea. I needed to get some things settled though, and this was the fastest way to do it.

"I've got what she does want though, and she only gets what she wants, after we get what we want. Don't give Brenda more power over you than she already has. She says whatever she thinks will get her the best deal. Don't let her keep doing that to you, Em."

"I'm right here, Kenny. You don't have to talk about me like I was at home, sleeping in my bed. I'm not trying to do anything to or with Emily. That's all your idea, not mine."

"Brenda, this would be a great time for you to tell Emily that you're just dying to lick her pussy. Tell her how much you've missed her tongue too."

"I will not, none of that's true Emily. Kenny is just trying to make you think I want that."

"If it isn't true, and if you don't tell her it's true, you can just get up and leave our group now, Brenda. You think you're something special, just because Emily and I get horny every time we look at you. That's not enough. I'm telling you right now that you need to put more into it than just how good you look."

"Would I have to do it all the time, or just once?" Her question didn't surprise me, it was typical Brenda. She and I both knew she'd do whatever I told her she needed to do, but she couldn't not posture. By trying to appear reluctant, she was hoping to increase the value of her participation with us.

"Now you've pissed me off again, Brenda. Get out of here! You just don't know when to quit bluffing do you? You always want to get a better deal than you deserve. Go on, take off!"

Brenda got up, but Emily got up also. They both started heading for the pool gate at the same time. I knew enough about negotiating to recognize I had to let them both go. After they were gone, Joyce and I sat there, staring at each other.

"I bet your pussy is totally soaking wet right now." She flushed, and she started looking over at her toes, instead of looking into my eyes. "It is, isn't it?" She nodded that it was. Just from having watched her over the past hour, I could see she was very aroused. "We almost had Emily. That Brenda has a habit of always ruining things. We better give Mama a call, and tell her to let Brenda know we're over at Uncle Bunny's. We need to tell her to give Brenda our phone number when she calls for me."

"Do you think she's really going to call?"

"She'll call. Frank Clooney told me yesterday that Brenda wasn't supposed to leave the school for the summer vacation. It's written right in the bequest. She's in default on the terms of Uncle Bunny's bequest. She was trying to sneak that one by us, but now she's been caught. That is going to cost her three million dollars, and cost her mother the same amount. I told Frank to mail them the notification. She should get it in today's mail, or tomorrow's at the latest."

"Why did you ask me if I was wet?"

"I think you have a little thing of your own for girls. I remember you denying it, but I saw how you were looking at Emily and Brenda. I bet you'd eat both their pussies." She was turning several shades darker. I decided to quit teasing her. "Let's go over to Uncle Bunny's, I think I should see how you like me eating that big, grown up, pussy of yours. Maybe it will make your hips grow wider."

Joyce was sleeping when Brenda called me at five thirty that afternoon. I could hear Georgia, her mother, crying and wailing in the background.

"Kenny, you can't do that to me. It was a mistake. We read it wrong. I'll go back, if you tell the lawyer to take back his letter."

"Why should I care if you go back or not, Brenda? You keep fucking things up for me every chance you get. Just like today."

"It was Emily, not me. Let me go back to that school, Kenny. I already finished a whole year there."

"You can go back, and I'll pay your expenses, but you aren't getting that money, and neither is your mother. Try to get Richard to share his with you, because there isn't going to be any more."

"We'll sue you."

"Good idea. Go ahead. Good luck to you with doing that. I guess I'll have to ask my Dad to quit buying grain from your father. I don't know why it is that you keep trying to beat the system, Brenda. You could have spent one more year up at that school, and walked away, set for life. You go right ahead and sue me, Brenda. That's another brilliant idea."

"What else can I do? You've taken away everything else I could do."

"Tell me what I took away from you. Name one thing I've taken of yours."

"The money I was supposed to get."

"How did I take that away from you?"

"You had that lawyer send me that notification of default thing."

"You failed to honor the terms placed on your bequest. The lawyer only did what the law requires him to do."

"You could have stopped him."

"No. What I could have done was substituted my money for Uncle Bunny's, like my mother did for your mother. Uncle Bunny's money could never legally pass to your mother, not after she sued his estate."

"Why don't you do that? I'd rather you gave me the money anyway. I like you."

"Because I don't want to. It was Uncle Bunny that wanted you to have some money, not me. I think he was afraid you'd make too many mistakes if you kept on thinking you had to marry a rich man. He wanted you to not feel pressured to have to do that."

"Will you think about giving me some money, maybe not all of it? Just think about it, Kenny." Brenda was playing out the end of her string. I knew she had really been counting on getting that money, but she hadn't been able to resist taking a chance to get something she knew she wasn't entitled to.

"I have no reason to do it, and plenty of reasons not to want to. There has to be a reason why I'd want to do it."

"You said today that you loved me."

"I said it, and it was true that I did, I even may still love you a little bit. On the other hand, I don't like you, and that's a lot more important to me than loving is."

"Can we at least talk about me getting some money, Kenny?"

"I might let you come over here and have ten minutes to try to convince me that I should help you, but, I'd need a favor from you first."

"If it's what we were talking about at first, when we were all by the pool, I'd be happy to do that favor with you."

"No, it isn't that. My friend, Joyce, she's a little bit curious about girls. If you came over and licked her for ten minutes, I'd listen to what you have to say about why I should give you some of my money."

I held the receiver in my hand until I felt like putting it back inside it's cradle. My ears were still ringing when I did it. That was my fault though. I really should have been expecting her to hang up like that.

I wondered how much longer Mama was going to allow me to flounder around with what I was trying to arrange? That's the problem with meddler's, when you need them, they're perfectly content to sit on their hands and let you make a mess of things on your own. I looked over at Joyce sleeping so peacefully. She was the only one who had already benefited from my plan. It turned out that she liked having her pussy licked every bit as much as any of the other girls. I got up and went out into Uncle Bunny's living room. I needed to think of some way to resurrect my plan.



-------

Chapter 35

Joyce woke up at around seven thirty, coming out of the bedroom, and finding me sitting alone in the dark in the living room.

"Kenny, why did you let me sleep so long?"

"You looked like you needed the rest. Brenda called while you were sleeping. She got the notice from Frank. She wanted me to help her with getting Frank to rescind the notice, or by me giving her the money instead. I offered to let her come over and explain why I should give her some money, but she didn't like what I told her she'd need to do to get me to listen to her."

"Have sex with you?"

"No, that was something she offered on her own. I told her she had to lick your pussy for ten minutes before I'd listen to her."

"Did you really?" I saw Joyce perking right up, after I told her what I'd asked Brenda to do. She was definitely interested. Earlier, she had been staring at Brenda and Emily, probably imagining the two of them doing things with each other. I was starting to think that all girls were a little bit interested in other girls. They certainly touched each other a lot more than men touched other men.

"She's still playing hard to get. Maybe I should have just asked her to come over and let you eat her pussy. She might have gone for that."

"I'd have to work up to that. I don't think I could just start out doing something like that. I've never even kissed a girl before. Except for my relatives, and that one time I told you about, you're the only man I've ever kissed. I'd do it to her if you wanted me to though. You tell me what you want me to do, Kenny, and I'll do it if I can."

"I want you to only do what you want to do. Whatever excites you to do. That's something you need to figure out for yourself, Joyce. Don't do things you don't want to, just because other people are doing them, or because someone else wants you to do it. Even this baby thing, you shouldn't do it unless you really want to."

"I do. I knew I'd do it as soon as you told me about your idea. Having your baby is a real thing, something I can believe might happen. What Mama used to tell me, about us being together, getting married, that was too much for me to believe in. I hope I get pregnant right away. How long, after you stop taking them, do the birth control pills stop working?"

"I don't know. I think after you start a new cycle without them. When is your period due?"

"I had just three pills left yesterday."

"You should be able to get pregnant during your next ovulation then. I don't think you can have a baby the regular way, not with the way your hips are now, Joyce. You'd probably need a C section."

"Won't the doctors make that decision?"

"We have time anyway. What do you think I should try next with Emily?"

We spent two more hours talking about Emily, about what went wrong, and about how we could convince Brenda to quit saying things in front of Emily. Joyce agreed with me that Emily still had a big thing for Brenda, and that Brenda's remarks were what drove Emily away from the pool. It was frustrating to me, because for Emily, Brenda was the key, and for me, it was Emily that was the key. I needed Brenda's cooperation, but I also knew she'd turn on us, if she saw even the slightest advantage to her in doing so.

"Kenny, have you thought about how all these girls parents are going to react if you manage to get them to agree to what you propose? All of them are still minors."

"I'm not too worried about any of the mothers, especially Brenda's, but all of the fathers might be a problem. I hadn't really thought about it. It gets more complicated when you actually might get the girls to agree."

"I think you need to get Emily to agree without Brenda necessarily being a part of things. If you do that, Brenda will try to worm her way in on her own. The other way, Brenda has too much leverage with Emily."

"Emily won't go for this without Brenda. If I had any hope that she would, I wouldn't touch Brenda with a ten foot pole."

"How come Emily allows Brenda to treat her like she does? Doesn't she believe what you keep telling her. I don't even know Brenda, but I could recognize the way she felt stronger and more in control every time Emily didn't fight back. I thought she'd do something, after Brenda said those things about her liking only girls. She acts scared, and Brenda gets more confident and demanding when she does."

"Emily likes being dominated, but she likes to fight against it too. It excites her to be restrained, forced to do things. Brenda gets Emily going, by appearing to be reluctant, and forcing Em to have to plead with her to be allowed to do things. These are things that Brenda really likes. Brenda had Emily begging to be allowed to lick her pussy. She could talk Emily into doing things for her, like helping her clean her room, to be allowed that pleasure. Emily hates any kind of cleaning, but she did it for Brenda. It's weird for me, because Em doesn't act that way around me. She wants to be dominated differently by each of us."

We both took separate showers and I drove us back home at around ten. We hadn't settled on any new plan, but it was comforting to have Joyce working on this with me. I knew she wouldn't quit, not without first exploring every possible avenue. Additionally, unlike me, Joyce had an open communication channel with Emily.

At work, the following morning, I was wrapping up a report I was making for my father about the changes I had noticed in the loading and picking area. Cee Cee had refined things during the nine months that I had been absent from work. Sales had grown by about seventeen per cent, but all picking and loading was being done with fewer people working at their jobs. I noticed there were two fork lifts operating all morning now, and there were no more people that were loaders only. Cee Cee had phased out all the ones who couldn't do well at both jobs.

"Kenny, I just got through talking on the phone with Emily. She said she went over and told Shirley about what you were proposing. She said Shirley listened to what she said, but wouldn't tell her how she felt about it. Emily wanted to know if we were fucking yesterday."

"She came right out and asked you?"

"I think she must have spoken with Brenda too, but she didn't say she had. She asked me if I had fucked you over at your Uncle's house last night. I told her we didn't fuck, but then she asked if we did anything, so I told her we fooled around, and you ate me. You told me not to lie to her."

"Did she say anything when you told her that?"

"She asked me how I could go along with your plan, when I knew you loved her."

"I'm not sure that's good. If Emily starts focusing on the other girls, and why they are going along, she is more likely to just start getting mad at all of us. I don't want her mad, I want her thinking about all the advantages she'd have by going along with this."

"She seemed upset that none of the rest of us are reacting like she did. I think she's afraid you might decide to just go ahead without her. She still loves you, Kenny. I'm starting to think she had her own plans for you, and this thing of yours is a big, unwelcome, surprise."

"What kind of plans? She's been telling me to keep away from her, to not even speak with her. I don't think that's much of a plan, not if she wanted us to get back together."

"I don't know, but she sounded concerned. She has to still be interested if she's going around talking to Shirley like that. I wonder if she called Brenda, or if Brenda called her."

"How do you know they talked after they left the pool area?"

"Emily knew I was over at Uncle Bunny's house with you last night. Mama wouldn't tell her that, so that leaves only Brenda, and she didn't know where we were, not until she called Mama and got the phone number to call you."

"Brenda and Emily talking has to be a good thing."

"Maybe not. Not if Brenda called to tell Emily she didn't want to ever do anything with her again. Brenda might be jealous of Emily and want to make her feel bad."

I went out to lunch with Joyce and my father. It was unusual for him to join us, and I thought, right away, that he was doing it so that he could pump Joyce and I for information about how the day before had turned out. We had a good lunch, and I let him drag the information out of me that Brenda was causing us problems, because she wasn't treating Emily very well. I knew the information would be filtered quickly back to my mother. I expected that Brenda would be receiving a phone call soon, with an invitation extended, to have lunch with Mama.

I was sitting at home, going over the monthly accounting report for the group homes, when Emily called me.

"Did you get your harem all set up yet?"

"Not yet. There's still a few openings. If you sign on, all the rest will fall into line too."

"Not me. I already told you. What did you say to Brenda? She keeps calling me and saying that she wants for us to be friends."

"I haven't talked to her since yesterday afternoon. She hung up me when I asked her to come over and lick Joyce's pussy." Emily laughed, surprised that I'd tell her about what happened.

"You really did ask her that?"

"She was being a pain in the ass, complaining about losing her inheritance, and I was mad at her for treating you like she did."

"Why should you care how she treats me? It isn't any of your concern."

"I don't like Brenda acting like she does, and you just seem to encourage it. If you keep allowing her to walk all over you, that's what she'll do."

"What are you doing with Joyce?"

"I thought you already talked to her. She says she told you what we did."

"She said you ate her pussy."

"I did."

"Why? You can't find her attractive."

"Don't be so sure. She gets cuter every day. If you wait too long, she might finish growing up, and I might marry her instead."

"I don't care. Marry her now, if you want to."

"I might have to do that. I'd rather it was you, but, if it can't be you, it will probably be Joyce."

"Brenda thinks I should marry you, and then get half your money, then split it with her."

"Brenda is always a delight. Any idea she has always is for Brenda's benefit."

"What about Shirley? She needs a husband."

"I'd never marry Shirley."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure, but I know I never would. Joyce and I will be having lunch, and another pool side discussion tomorrow. You're welcome to join us."

"Are you going to be inviting Brenda too?"

"I'll invite her if that would make it more likely that you'd be there."

"Why do you want me there? I already told you I won't be part of your plan."

"Come to the club tomorrow. After we finish at the pool, I'll take you to Uncle Bunny's, and lick your pussy."

"You'd like that."

"So would you."

"If I do come and do that, will you let Brenda have her inheritance?"

"You're asking me to give her three million dollars."

"It was supposed to be her money anyway. You tricked her into losing it."

"She says I tricked her? She knew she had to stay year round at that school, but she came home for the summer anyway, hoping Uncle Bunny's lawyer wouldn't find out about it. He found out, and he sent her a default of terms notification. I had nothing to do with that. I knew he was going to do it, because he called me about it. He was forced to do what he did by the terms of Uncle Bunny's will. He couldn't do anything else."

"You knew she was coming back home, you could have said something to warn her she'd lose her money."

"I honestly didn't remember the terms of the will. I wasn't even thinking about Brenda."

"You could give her your money."

"Why should I?"

"So I would come with you tomorrow."

"Too expensive for me. How about if I just give you a few hundred when I'm done, and you can give that money to her?"

I had the phone out, away from my ear, but I still heard the noise of her slamming the phone down. I wondered if Brenda had been with Emily when she called? I had to smile when I pictured Brenda leaning in close to Emily, so she could hear my responses to Emily's requests and questions. If Brenda was there, I figured I'd be getting a call back soon, with Emily trying to negotiate for a larger payment. I didn't get a call back.

The next morning, when Joyce and I drove, in separate cars over to the club, I saw Emily's Cadillac parked near the clubhouse. We walked up to the clubhouse restaurant, and Brenda and Emily were sitting together, having their lunches. Joyce and I sat at a table next to theirs. We were looking at the menu when Emily asked me if we weren't going to join them.

"No, we don't want to intrude. I'll sign for your lunches though, don't worry."

"You invited us." This from Brenda.

"Not a problem Brenda. You know you're always welcome to eat with us."

"I did what you asked me to do. I made up with Emily. We're friends again."

"That's good. I suspected as much from her phone call last night. I hope you at least got her to lick you too, Emily. I'd hate to think she got you to appeal to me by only having to let you lick her pussy."

"Are you jealous, Kenny? I thought this was what you wanted us to be doing?"

"It was, but I didn't think I'd have to be paying Brenda so you could eat her."

"She didn't charge me. She asked me for a favor, as a friend."

"Did you eat her pussy yet, Brenda?"

"That isn't any of your business, Kenny." Emily was getting pissed again. I figured that must mean that Brenda hadn't done it for her.

We didn't do too much more chatting over lunch, but later, at the pool, we talked quite a bit. I answered questions, mostly Brenda's, and mostly about what she had to do so I stopped being mad at her.

"You never answered the question I asked you at lunch, Brenda." I looked over at her. I was pretty sure she hadn't but I wanted her to admit it in front of Emily.

"Kenny, I told you, what Brenda and I did, or didn't do, isn't any of your business. If you ask her again, we're leaving."

"Did you eat her pussy, or not, Brenda?" I watched as Emily stood up. Brenda hadn't gotten up yet, but she was trying to decide how she wanted to play it.

"Are you coming, Brenda?" Emily looked worried, knowing that Brenda might not go with her.

"I'm the rich one, Brenda, not her. If you leave without answering my question, you won't ever be invited back here."

"I was going to, but, she told me I didn't have to do it." Brenda rushed to get the words out, and then she stood up so she could model her bikini for all of us. Emily was still standing, but I could see that Brenda's admission had injured Emily's pride. I could also imagine how the conversation must have gone.

"Thank you. You can leave with Emily now, Brenda. I've found out what I wanted to know. Em, I'm afraid you'll never learn. Your weakness brings out the meanness in Brenda. She always takes advantage of any weakness she encounters. If you listened to what I tell you, you could have her eating all her meals straight out of your pussy. I'm going to let you do things your way though. Brenda, would you be willing to lick Joyce's pussy everyday, if I decided to let you in on my plan without Emily?"

"Would I get to live like you promised before?"

"Yes, you'd have a house with Joyce, and all of your reasonable expenses would be taken care of, as soon as I got you pregnant."

"As long as you guys didn't go telling everybody I was doing that. I'd rather it was with Emily though, since we're back to being friends and all."

"Go with Emily, and let me think about it. Call me after you've licked Emily's pussy enough that she's had at least five cums. I'll have decided by then. Come on Joyce. It looks like its going to just be the two of us again today."

We went over to Uncle Bunny's house and discussed company business for several hours. Joyce was trying to develop an automatic shipping schedule for the eight product transportation railway hubs my Dad had opened up. She was having difficulties, because there was such a disparity between what was being ordered at different times. I asked her if she wouldn't know more if she worked off the daily delivery invoices for each store served by the hubs. That should provide her with easier to interpret data than the individual deliveries from the railroad invoices did. We started discussing the need for getting everything organized and having it processed through a computer. There was too much data being compiled, and too little interpretation of it. The costs for putting everything on computer should be less than the savings from being able to see right away what we were doing in every area.

We were still talking when Brenda called me. She said that Emily had refused to let her eat her.

"I can't believe that Brenda. She loves having me eat her. You must have made her think you didn't really want to do it."

"Well, I don't. I can't help it if it isn't something I enjoy."

"You better be able to help it, because being a good, and frequent pussy eater, is your only way to earn your ticket to join our group. If you can't do that, or if you make everybody think you hate doing it, then you aren't any use to me."

"I can do lots of other things, things she likes just as much. I don't like the taste of pussy, not even mine that much."

"Where are you at, right now?"

"I'm in my bedroom."

"Is Emily with you?"

"No, she dropped me off, then she went back home again."

"You need to practice eating pussy. I can get Joyce to let you practice on her."

"I don't want to."

It felt good to hang up on Brenda. Joyce and I left right after I did that, but we still heard the phone ringing while I was setting the house alarm. We drove home separately. I hoped that Joyce wasn't getting hurt feelings over Brenda's reluctance to eat her pussy. I was going to have a talk with her about that. I didn't want her getting a complex about it.

We weren't home five minutes before Gerta told me that Brenda was calling for me. I told Gerta to tell Brenda she had to talk to Joyce instead of me. Gerta called me back, saying Brenda insisted she'd only talk to me.

"This better be good, Brenda. You've got Joyce crying in her room again, because you hurt her feelings."

"Kenny, listen. Don't hang up, just listen to me. I'm trying to do what you've asked me to do, but I can't. You think I like having you be mad at me all the time? I don't. You need to ask me to do something I can do. I'm willing, it's just that you keep asking me to do things I can't do." There was something in the way her voice was catching. Something that made me think back to when we first met, before we had started doing things together. I felt a little twinge of remorse about the way I'd been using her. Even though we'd had huge problems, most of them caused by Brenda, I'd brought her back into this situation solely for my own, less than honorable purposes.

"What do you want me to do, Brenda? The only use I have for you is as an inducement for Emily to come back to me. That's the only reason I included you in my plan, that and because Mama thinks you'd be good breeding stock for some baby Chalmers. I don't want to hurt you, but, really, I personally don't want to have any relationship with you. I don't know what else I can do with you."

"Give me some money. I don't even want to have babies yet."

"I'll think about it. I'll call you when I definitely decide about things."

I went over and Knocked on Joyce's door. She called out for me to come in, and she was over on top of her bed, looking at some papers when I opened the door. I came in and went over and sat on her bed.

"Brenda called. She was really getting frustrated and upset by all of this. I'm feeling bad too. I think I'm just going to give up on that plan. It seemed like a solution when I first thought of it, but it's just too complicated to actually make it work."

"I've been thinking about that too, but it doesn't have to be that complicated. Instead of starting out like you did, you should have done it like with the group home extensions. Get the first part working well, then add a little more after that. You could start out with me, just for making babies with. You can add other girls later, I won't care if you do or not. Maybe ten babies were too many. One might be enough. Right now, Mama doesn't have any babies. Even one might be enough for her, especially if she thought there would probably be more later."

"That solves the baby problem, but it doesn't solve the Emily problem. I wanted to be over her, or have her back with me, in some kind of situation that might work out permanently for us, before I left for school."

"You mean pregnant. That isn't going to work, Kenny. Even if Emily had agreed, it would have only been so she could have Brenda too. She's still in high school, so are Brenda and Shirley. They aren't ready to start making babies with you."

"You're less ready to make babies than they are."

"Mama wants babies, not you. I'll have your baby. I'd like to do that. After I get pregnant, you'd have more time to do what you need to do."

"If I fathered a baby, Joyce, I'd want to be there to look after it. I couldn't do that, and then just leave, and let you and Mama raise it."

"If that's true, then none of your plan will work."

"I know that. I guess I always knew it. In my dream though, all three of you were pregnant with my children, and we were all together."

"Kenny, maybe Emily was right. It was just a dream. You were probably thinking about babies when you fell asleep. You need to tell Mama that you're planning on having babies, but after you finish school."

"Mama's afraid of dying like Uncle Bunny did. They were twins. She needs to see and touch a baby from her bloodline, from her generation line. For some reason, Georgia's children don't do that for her. I think its because she thinks it needs to be a male Chalmers that does it."

"Did you ask her?"

"You heard what she said, she wants time before we talk."

"Just ask her if it's okay if you wait until you're finished with your education."

"Suppose she says no?"

"I'm still ready. You'd be home on breaks, and for the summers. You wouldn't miss that much."

"I don't want to miss anything."

"Then, you just need to wait, or else take someone to South Bend with you, or meet someone there."

"Would you be too upset if I ask Emily to go to South Bend with me?"

"Kenny, would you be too upset if she turned you down?"

"Do you know something I don't know?"

"Brenda. Emily doesn't look at you the same way she looks at Brenda."

"Different isn't always the same as worse. Brenda doesn't feel like that about her."

"That's Emily's problem. Your problem is that Emily doesn't feel the same way about you as she does about Brenda."

"Maybe I need to take them both. No, I can't do that, not the way Brenda behaves. She'd be sleeping around, whenever she got mad at either of us."

"Kenny, you need to start all over again. You keep trying to rebuild something when all the pieces are too broken. You aren't even eighteen yet, you've got time to build with all new parts."

"I've got time, but does Mama have time?"

"Wasn't your Uncle fat for most of his adult life? I think Mama told me he ate too much, and he liked the wrong kind of foods. You've seen how healthy Mama eats. She will probably live for many more years."

I went back to my room just as full of questions as I'd been when I arrived home. I felt like any plan was better than not having one, even a bad plan. I was reluctant to give up so easily. On the other hand, especially if I accepted Joyce's assessment, my plan never really had any chance of being successful for any length of time.

I thought Joyce might be right about the difference between Emily loving me and Emily desiring Brenda. I think she liked me and loved me more, but, Brenda really got her going. I could get her going, but not without playing into her bondage fantasies. Her strongest cums were when I took her forcefully, and usually with my restraining her. It wasn't necessarily me she was reacting to, as much as the idea of being forced to submit. I could play that role with her, but it wasn't my favorite way to make love.

The next morning I went to see Mama in her bedroom. Dad and Joyce had already left for the office. I needed to talk to her. To let her know what I was thinking, and what I was feeling. I was about to knock on her closed bedroom door, when it opened, and she came out.

"Oh Kenny. You startled me. You aren't going into work today?"

"Good morning, Mama. I needed to speak to you."

"Have you had breakfast yet? I need to leave shortly. What did you want to speak with me about?"

"Babies." Mama's eyes got big, but then she returned to her normal look.

"Babies? You haven't gotten Emily pregnant have you?"

"No. I'm talking about figurative babies. Future children. My children. Little Chalmers children."

"Wouldn't they be Parsons children?"

"An interesting question. I think Chalmers should be their surname. I am a Parsons, by choice, and by adoption, but it seemed to me, because of all the trouble and expense you went through to find me, perhaps the Chalmers name was important to you?"

"No. I much prefer Parsons to Chalmers. It isn't the name that's important, its the bloodline's and the mind set."

"What of Richard and Brenda then? Same blood?"

"Not to me, not to Bunny. Richard is Walt's son. Brenda, she isn't Walt's, and she isn't Bunny's. Walt was unacceptable to us, and we weren't able to establish Brenda's pedigree, not on her paternal side. You though, we knew your pedigree, and it was acceptable to us."

"Why is this so important to you?"

"Why, money of course. You don't entrust money with those who would squander it. Money must be protected, conserved and grown. You inherited my father's traits and abilities. With your abilities, personality, and the instincts you possess, you will make an excellent custodian of our combined fortune."

"Why did you always try to get me to mate with my girl friends? Wasn't it for children?"

"Good heavens no. Stability, Kenny. You need stability. You are too excitable. Even Thomas admits that much. You flitter about from one flower to the next. We wanted you to settle down, settle in, so that you could concentrate on the real task at hand."

"Making more money?"

"Handling and managing large sums requires a steady hand, steadfastness in crisis. Thomas can make money. Finding people to make money isn't that difficult. Knowing how to steer through all the treacherous temptations that can deplete any fortune, regardless of it's initial size, that is the difficult task. Bunny and I both believed that you are capable of doing this. Money should outlive its creators. Joyce too would make an excellent custodian, but she has no direct blood ties to the money. Blood ties are necessary, otherwise, what is the point?"

"This was all about finding someone to leave your money to?"

"Not at all, dear. It took us ten years to find a way to even locate you. You must remember, we had so little evidence to go by. Mostly it was rumor and innuendo. Bunny spoke with Hans, but he isn't really the most reliable of witnesses. Ask him what took place, and he can supply endless detail, but ask him who the participants were, and all he can do is stare at you, wondering why that should matter. Locating you was our primary goal. Determining that you would make a satisfactory custodian for the family fortune, was an extra added bonus. It was more than a coincidence, but it wasn't our primary motivation for seeking you out."

"You think having a steady woman would settle me down, make me more stable?"

"You, more than most, understand the importance of family. The more family you surround yourself with, the more stable you'll become. Stability is the key to successful money management."

"You and dad, Joyce, Jane and Grace, Marie, Hans and Gerta, all of you are my family. All the boys in our group homes are my family now too. I don't lack for family. I disagree that girls add to that stability, although I keep hoping the right one will. Because of my past, it isn't that easy for me to find the right one."

"Elements, Kenny. You've been searching for a particular person who combines your desirable elements. You place too much emphasis on beauty, when you should be concentrating on compatibility. I am learning as we go along also. Remember I had no experience in selecting my mate either. Joyce is a real find. Even your father is wildly approving of her, something that is almost unheard of. To me, the elements she brings are by far the most important, as well as the rarest."

"Those are your elements, not mine. I tend to value appearance over personality, and personality over talent. I appreciate Joyce's abilities, as well as many of her character traits. There isn't any spark for me with her though."

"Joyce will settle for far less than possessing all of you. With all those other girls, you'd need to commit much more than you would need to with Joyce. You see the freedom I allow your father. You cannot function at your full potential when you are constantly being distracted by this or that personal demand. You wouldn't have that distraction with Joyce."

"Why can't I retain the best parts of Joyce with our current relationship? We are tied together now in so many ways. That would still leave me free to search for a relationship that was romantically fulfilling to me."

"You have to choose someone to be at your side all through your lifetime. Joyce would always support the work you've chosen. She doesn't need to be first in your life, but she needs and deserves to be more than merely your collaborator. She has too much to offer for you to remain so complacent about her permanence in your life. What binds her to you is more than friendship, but it needs to be nourished and nurtured, else it will perish eventually. If it perishes, she will replace those feelings, and turn to someone else for that nourishment."

"I've told you the characteristics I tend to value the most. Joyce doesn't meet my needs in those areas."

"She looks four hundred per cent better this year than last year. She is growing taller now, and she is developing into a woman's body. She'll never have the beauty that Brenda, or even Emily, possess, but they will never come close to matching her in those other areas I mentioned. Joyce will blossom into someone that you needn't be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed of her now. She's very dear to me, as a friend. I've told you the problem I have with her."

"Would it be easier for you if she were to permit you an open marriage?"

"You mean if she let me sleep around? I've actually thought about that, but I don't think I could justify doing that to her."

"I'm sure she would permit it, if that were what you required of her. Joyce doesn't have that strong a need for deep commitment from others."

"You speak of her as if she were a dog."

"I'm speaking from my own life experience. I had to rearrange my priorities in order to accept what I had been offered. Was I a dog? Life gives you what it gives you. It is up to you to take what you can get, and make the most of it."

"Look where that has left you Mama. Do you want the same for Joyce?"

"I would do it all again, knowing everything I now know. I made the most of what I could get. I no longer regret the bargain I made."

I left her shortly after that, driving to Bolling to spend time at work. I kept coming to the wrong conclusions about things, or else Mama was lying through her teeth. I didn't know why she'd want or need to do that though.

What she had told me, coupled with a lot of things Uncle Bunny had said when he was complimenting my skills and abilities, lent some credence to what Mama had told me. I still didn't believe Mama's explanation about why she was so anxious to find me a permanent girlfriend or wife. There had to be more to it than that.

I accepted her assessment about Emily, Brenda, and Shirley requiring much greater commitments of my time and attention than Joyce ever would. She had compared that with the way she allowed my father free rein to pursue his business interests. Did I really want or need to be so engrossed in something? I needed to speak with my Dad, to ask him what his life had been like when he was my age. What happened to turn him into the driven, single minded workaholic that he'd become? His life didn't appeal to me. I wanted something more well rounded for myself.

At the office, I couldn't get my attention focused on work. I got up several times, looking for a diversion that was work related, but all I could think about was my personal situation, and the lack of any solution in sight. Finally, unable to get any work done, I gave up and drove back home. Joyce had been gone from her desk all day. I knew that she and my Dad were working on that computer project together. I drove to Uncle Bunny's house instead of my own. At four o'clock, I dialed her number. When she answered, I spoke to her before I could lose my resolve.

"I'm really horny. Come over to my Uncle's house if you want to get fucked again. I'll wait until five for you, after that, I'm leaving." I didn't give her a chance to say anything or to argue with me about it. Either she'd come or she wouldn't. I heard the door bell ringing at four thirty, and I allowed myself a smile of relief. She'd come. I opened the door wide, putting a big happy smile on my face.

"Hi, Brenda come on in."



-------

Chapter 36

"Hi, Brenda, come on in."

"Did you decide yet on my money, Kenny?" She was dressed nicely, and I could see she had put on fresh lipstick. Her hair was lustrous from recent brushing. I could never get used to seeing that unusual copper hair coloring.

"I didn't call you to discuss money, Brenda. I told you I was horny, and wanted to fuck you."

"Good. That's the main reason I came over here, but, I was wondering about those other things we talked about too. You told me you'd call me when you'd decided."

"I remember saying that. This was an extra call, just because I wanted to see if it still felt as nice when I fucked you. The other things, I haven't had time yet to decide about. If you don't want to do anything with me, that's okay, but I'm not going to decide about anything today."

"I do want to do things. I told you that was my main reason for coming. You think I'm only interested in myself, but that isn't true. Why don't we go in the bedroom, and just try to be friends again? I've been waiting for you to make love to me again for such a long time."

We walked back to Uncle Bunny's bedroom, with me leading the way. Instead of just getting undressed, Brenda sat down on the bed, and looked up at me expectantly. I couldn't resist pulling my zipper down and moving in closer to her head. I stopped, waiting to see what she would do, how she would react to this. She made a slightly unhappy face, but then she lifted her hand and fished my cock out of my pants and underwear.

As she had before, Brenda gave me a very tepid blow job. It was pretty obvious that she didn't enjoy giving me oral sex.

"Brenda, you need to do a better job than that. It makes people feel bad when you make it so obvious that you dislike what you're doing for them. If you don't like it, at least try to pretend, show some enthusiasm." She took her mouth off my dick, a dick that had lost some of its firmness, and made yet another face, as if I had asked her to lick a toilet bowl or something.

"There are just a few things I don't like doing that much. You shouldn't always be so quick to criticize me. It's just as easy for us to do the things I really do like. Emily understands that now, and we're getting along very well."

"Get undressed, Brenda. We'll see if you can still fuck enthusiastically. You used to be a very good fuck."

I was finding myself getting angry at her, and I knew that it wasn't the way to behave around her. She wasn't at all responsive to what other people wanted. She knew what she liked, and what she didn't like, and she wasn't about to make many changes, just because other people preferred them. I could get mad, but it wasn't going to do any good. I reminded myself that I hadn't invited Brenda over primarily for either of our pleasures.

I wanted to show Emily that her hold on Brenda was a very tenuous thing. That didn't mean I wasn't expecting to enjoy myself, just that my enjoyment was a secondary consideration in this instance. I needed to treat Brenda better, to ensure that she felt good enough about this experience that she'd want to keep on repeating it.

Brenda had gotten up and was slowly undoing the buttons on her blouse. I saw that she wasn't happy with the way I'd been acting with her. I smiled and started helping her undress, kissing each of her bare shoulders when she tried to shrug out of her blouse. I took her in my arms then, softly kissing her neck, and running both hands across her bare back and down to the beginnings of her butt. By the time I started kissing her mouth, I could feel her beginning to relax against me. We broke apart then, and I started taking my own shirt off.

Brenda started undressing faster, when she saw me hurrying to get out of my clothes. She wasn't smiling yet, but the look of tenseness and worry had disappeared. We spent a few minutes kissing and touching before I opened up the nightstand drawer and took out a condom.

"You don't need one, Kenny, I'm still on the pill."

"I like them. It makes me feel safer." She made a pouting face at me, acting like she was hurt that I would think she might have any communicable diseases. She didn't say anything though, and, after I put the rubber on, we went back to kissing and touching. I was kissing her breasts, which had grown since the last time I'd seen her naked, and started kissing down to her navel. I hadn't thought about eating her pussy or not eating it before, but, when I got to her navel, I decided I'd hold off on doing that.

When I starting kissing my way back up, Brenda made a disappointed sound, but, again, she didn't speak to me about it. I was kissing her and getting myself in position to enter her. I had manually stimulated her pussy to the point where I'd opened her up enough, and had her wet enough to be able to enter her with my cock.

Once I entered her, things got immediately better for both of us. It was very good physical sex. Brenda was very responsive to what I was doing, and when I lifted her ass up with both hands, we found just the right angle to permit her constant clitoral contact while she moved her hips against my pubic bone. It wasn't a lot of in and out movement that I was used to, it was more a constant grinding together while she did things with the muscle movement of her inner sheath that drove me crazy. Even with me on top, Brenda was doing almost all the work. I loved the milking motion she had going, but I was used to more frictional stimulation, so I managed to hold off from cumming for a good long time.

The whole time we were fucking, we were also kissing with increasing passion, and making noises that were not so loud, but still a constant stream of escaping grunts and hisses. There was certainly nothing wrong with either of our techniques, and we were well suited, physically, as fuck partners. When I finally did cum, it was an intense, draining, experience.

It was strange that both of us were completely sated from only having the one fuck together. I felt relaxed and drained, as though I'd cum at least three or four times. I had no urge to try to do more.

"That was what I've been missing. You've gotten even better, Kenny. It was always the best with you, and now, it was even better, but, you don't love me anymore."

"You've gotten better too. I really like that thing you were doing inside your pussy, that squeezing thing."

"I wasn't doing anything, what do you mean?"

I took my hand and made slow squeezing motions with it. She watched my hand, seeming to not understand what I meant.

"Your pussy kept squeezing my dick, so that's why I didn't have to move much. As far as that other thing you said about not loving you, it's a lot more complicated than just saying that. There is liking, and then there is trusting, and lastly, there is loving. We don't have a lot of all of those things anymore, but we might be able to build back a little bit of each again. You know that I love Emily, right?"

"I know. She tells me that enough, practically all the time. She told me that you were using me to try to get her back."

"She's right, but I thought all of us could use each other, to get what we wanted. I'm assuming that you still are hot for me, because of my money?"

"Not just for that, but if you are rich, that just makes everything else better. I never tried to pretend that money wasn't important."

"No, you never tried to pretend that it wasn't. That's always been a problem for me too, because it always seemed like the money was the most important thing. I'm finding out now, that a lot of people feel the same way you do, but, I still don't like it. That doesn't mean I'm not willing to take advantage of the fact that I have it. Some people will do a lot of what I want, just because they want some of it."

"I will. I've never pretended that your money didn't matter to me, or that I wasn't anxious to make you like me more by doing what you wanted me to do."

"Now though, you keep resisting what I'm asking you to do. I know you don't like certain things, but, sometimes, you have to do things you don't like, to get to what you do want."

"I'm doing things for Emily, just not licking her. I make her cum, so she's happy."

"Brenda, did you like what we just did?"

"Sure. It was my best ever. It was you who was my best ever before though, so you just passed yourself."

"You seemed a little disappointed when I didn't eat your pussy."

"I was. I really like it when you do that. Why didn't you?"

"I thought about it, and I just didn't feel like it. It wasn't something I wanted to do with you. I made you cum several times though, so you should be happy."

"I am happy. You don't have to eat me, not if you're going to make me cum the other way."

"If I'm going to be fucking you, I don't want you seeing Emily anymore. I don't want you doing anything with anyone else, unless I tell you to do it. If I tell you to do it, I want you to do it, and at least pretend you really like doing it."

"Emily said you'd try to do something like this."

"Well, Emily is right again then. You have to make a choice, and I'm not going to let you go back and forth about saying yes and then no. You need to decide."

"What about my money?"

"You have no money, Brenda. I have money though."

"Can I have my own car? Like you gave Emily."

"I'm sure we can get you something, down the road. Before I start investing in you, I have to start believing that you plan to honor the agreement we're making."

"What about what you get to do? Are you going to be with other girls?"

"Yes. In fact, I'm doing this mostly so I can bring Emily back to me. It might not work, but then I'd still have you to fuck whenever I wanted to."

"What about the other girl?"

"Joyce? If you agree to my offer, you'll be licking her pussy before too much longer, and letting her lick yours if she wants to do it. The same goes for Emily. I told you, right from the beginning, that you need to contribute more than you were offering."

"You aren't really promising me anything, but I'm having to make all these promises to you."

"You don't have to make any promises, Brenda. I didn't even bring you here to get you to make any promises. I've been thinking about you, and I really wanted to fuck you again. I did, and it was great. I really enjoyed it. I came so hard, I don't even feel like doing it again, and that never happens to me. Your little kitty is better than it ever was."

"Would I be your girlfriend, or just someone you liked to screw?"

"That depends on how you behave. I'm not interested in telling people you're my girlfriend and then finding out that you're fucking other guys besides me. Have you fucked Gary since you came back?"

"No. I haven't been with anyone."

"I'm going to ask him and Emily. I'll find out if you're lying."

"I haven't even seen him since I came back. I'm not lying to you. I haven't done anything with any boy since way before I went back to that school. I'm not a slut, even if you think I am."

"So, does that mean you would be willing to promise not to do anything with anyone else except me, and whoever I said you could do things with?"

"Would I be your girlfriend or not?"

"I already answered that. I'm going to wait to see how this works, before I decide about that. Emily might decide I couldn't have another girlfriend, and then I'd have to decide if I would let her dictate things like that to me."

"So, even if I was your girlfriend, I wouldn't be the only one, and I'd have to do things I didn't want to with other girls?"

"You don't make it sound very attractive when you say it like that. I'd never make you lick another girl's pussy unless I was already willing to buy you a new car. I would also make sure you get to go with Mama, the next time she wants to go to Springfield, to buy some new clothes. I'd even set it up so you could charge for drinks and meals out at the country club, on my family account. It isn't like I wouldn't be taking care of things that are important to you. You help me, and I'll help you."

Brenda had two tiny tears slide out of her eyes, and run down her cheeks. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears too.

"You want a whore, not a girlfriend. I'm not going to be anybody's whore."

"Did I mention that I'd want to give you an allowance too? I want to make sure you can buy gas, and have some money to get other things you might need. You don't need to think of it the way you are. Besides, you'd be more of a kept woman than a whore. I'd never share you with another guy, only with one or two girls in my life."

"I still wouldn't be rich. I wouldn't have anything more than I do right now, except for a car."

"You'd be the girlfriend of a very rich man. Who knows? Things might change, later on. If I liked you again, and you proved I could trust you, I might fall in love with you all over again. You're still the prettiest girl I've ever seen. My dick stands right up the first second I see you. It doesn't do that with any other girls. I can't just forgive and forget what happened before. You can't expect to get a brand new start with me."

"This isn't what I always wanted for us. You might just be saying these things to get me to help you with Emily. When I do that for you, you might not care about me any more."

"When we were fucking, Brenda, did it feel like I didn't care?"

"No, it felt nice."

"It felt very nice to me too. I knew, when we were making love, that this was real for you too, that you really were enjoying that it was me on top of you. You weren't just pretending to want me inside you."

"I thought you always knew how I felt about you. I've thrown myself at you, ever since I first met you. Now, you're just planning on using me, and with all your money, you end up getting to do whatever you want."

"That's right. I'm using what I have, to get what I want. I guess that's one of the changes in me. I'm not happy not getting what I want, and it doesn't seem very intelligent for me not to use everything I can, to try to get what I want, and to be happier. I'm trying to negotiate better with people. Did Emily tell you about the time we flew out to California? My Dad bought me flying lessons for a graduation present. When I learn to fly, he's going to buy me a new plane. We could take our own trips, whenever we had time off, to go somewhere. If you think back, Brenda, I never treated you bad, not unless you did something you weren't supposed to do."

"You're getting your own plane? Will it be a big one, or just one of those little ones?"

"A smaller one at first, but I'll buy a bigger one later, when I've got more flying experience. Even the small one will be big enough to take three or four people, and all their luggage. You'd like flying places, and telling your friends, later, where you went. It will be great for me for flying back home on the weekends too. That way, I won't have to be so horny all the time, and you won't need to be either. I'd have to make sure you were getting regular fucking from me, so you wouldn't get tempted to end our agreement."

"If you didn't want to have other girl friends, it would be almost perfect for us."

"No, it would be almost perfect for you. That's not why I'm doing this though. I'm doing it so it's almost perfect for me. If you are an important part of my nearly perfect life, I'll treat you good. You can't be an important part though, not if it makes you feel like a whore. I wouldn't be happy, not if you weren't happy too. I want the people around me to be happy, but I don't want to make myself unhappy, just to make anyone else happy. Emily has to understand that too. It isn't just you that has to accept that things have changed."

"She isn't going to like any of this. She doesn't like what you've done so far. She probably won't do what you want. What happens then?"

"I'll either get over her, or else I'll have to keep looking for something she does want enough to be with me, and live with what I want."

"I need to get back home soon, but, can we do it again? Some of the things we've been talking about make me want to see if things would feel the same with you. Today, you've been different than I've ever seen you before. You talk like you don't really care that much about people anymore, but you say other things, things that tell me you've been thinking about what I need too. You must care a little, if you've thought about buying me a new car, and those other things. I just need to feel if you care when you're inside me again."

Brenda was wilder, and even more abandoned this time. She really let herself go, holding nothing back. It was a more frenzied coupling, with both of us working hard, to get as much out of it for ourselves as we could. When I finally rolled off of her again, the mattress and the sheet underneath her was puddled with her juices, and the end of my rubber was full with my cum.

"It isn't fair that you can make me feel like this, even when you don't like me or love me. How can you possibly love her more than me? I should be first, not her."

"If you keep thinking like that, neither of us are going to be happy. You need to concentrate on all the good parts. There will be a lot of good things."

"I'll need you to do that to me a lot, so I can stop thinking about what I don't like. I don't like having to share, or being shared."

"Do you think you're going to get a better offer?"

"Am I supposed to call Emily? Do I tell her that I'm back with you now, and you said I can't see her anymore?"

"You haven't answered my question."

"If I thought I'd get a better offer, I wouldn't have asked my question."

"Call her from here before you leave. Make sure she knows that we fucked, and that it was good for both of us. Tell her I didn't eat your pussy, and that I said I was leaving that job open for someone else."

"You aren't ever going to lick it?"

"Brenda, stop trying to figure out everything before you do what I ask. I already told you what I'm trying to make happen. You need to try to make it happen too, because that's what will make me happy. You make me happy, I make you happy. That's how it works."

I handed Brenda the telephone from the nightstand and watched as she dialed Emily's number. The two of them were talking together for at least ten minutes, and Brenda still hadn't started in talking about any of the things I'd asked her to say.

"I'm over at Kenny's uncle's house." Pause. "Yes, of course he's here." Long pause. "Twice." Pause. "I never said I wouldn't. I said I didn't think he wanted to." Very long pause, and I could actually hear a lot of what Emily was yelling into the phone. "It was better than before. I came all over the place, especially the second time." Pause. "He says I can start trying to be his girlfriend, but that I can't do anything with anyone else, unless he says it's okay." Pause, and a lot more yelling about me being too bossy. "He didn't lick me. He said he was leaving that job open for somebody else." Pause. "He didn't say who, but he did say I couldn't see you anymore. He's buying me a new car." Pause, additional screaming. It sounded like Emily might be crying. Brenda frowned after a few minutes and then handed the phone to me,

"Hello?"

"Did she tell you that I predicted you'd try to do this?"

"She said something about you telling her that some things would happen. Did you tell her it would work?"

"It won't work, because I'm still not interested in your plan."

"I guessed as much. You know, Brenda has always preferred me over you. You should see what she just did to my mattress. You could go swimming in all the cum she squirted out of her pussy. It looks like about a quart. Did you ever get a quart from her?"

"I knew you could take her away from me. I just didn't think you'd be so mean when you did it."

"Emily, I've changed. You helped me change. You made me tired of always ending up unhappy. Everybody kept trying to tell me I didn't need to be unhappy, that I was taking things too seriously, but I still wanted to try to play the game fair. I thought it was enough to just be the nice guy, but it never was. I'm not going to be unhappy anymore. If I have to, I'll hire someone to come in and lick Brenda's pussy. She loves having it licked, but when I try to lick it, it reminds me of you, and that just makes me unhappy again."

"I'm not going to do it."

"That's fine, Emily. I don't need you to do it to be happy. Do you think I can't find a hundred girls better looking than you, to do whatever I tell them to do? Love isn't the only thing. I love you, and I've got a lot of things that you want, including Brenda's very tasty pussy. I've got this theory, and you can tell me if I'm wrong. You kept picking fights with me because I was treating you too good. You like being treated like Brenda treats you. Well, you're in luck, because I've finally figured out what it takes to make you happy."

"You're wrong, Kenny."

"Really? Tell me that it didn't hurt you when I told you about Brenda squirting a quart, and that you didn't wish you were here so you could lick it all up. I bet you thought about licking my cock too, so I wouldn't have any of Brenda's juices on it. Brenda thinks you are a lesbian, but you told me you never liked any other girl that way. I think you're just a twisted little girl that gets off on being abused. I'll also bet that you have some interesting reactions when your father treats you mean, and yells at you. Is your pussy wet enough yet, or do you want me to keep talking to you?"

"Why are you being like this to me?"

"Because I love you so much that I can still love you, even knowing what I do about what makes you tick. I can treat you bad if that's what it takes. It isn't what I'd prefer, but I can be happy, knowing that you're happy too. Brenda isn't the only one who can give you what you need."

I looked over at Brenda, and she was staring at me like I was some kind of mutant or something. She couldn't believe I would speak to Emily, or to anyone, like I'd been doing. I reached over to her and gently cupped one of her breasts, and began manipulating it with my fingers. I signaled for her to come closer with the phone receiver I held in my hand. She did slide over, snuggling her back against my chest. I continued toying with her nipple as Emily and I kept talking.

"You're wrong, Kenny. I never wanted you to treat me bad. I wanted you to just love me in a normal way. You might be right about Brenda, but not about you."

"I'm squeezing on one of her pretty titties right now, and I'm about to find out if her pussy is ready for me to put a couple fingers in it. She loves to have people play with her, but she hates to reciprocate. I'm going to train her not to be that way. You suck my cock a lot better than she does, but I think Joyce has both of you beat. As little as her mouth is, and even with those braces and bands and everything, she sucks a terrific cock. She's been dying to do things with Brenda too. You two never talk about things like that, I'll bet. She has a very grown up pussy on her too. It was weird the first time I ever saw it. I felt like I just had to fuck it, because it was so much different than the rest of her body."

"She told me about that time, because I asked her after we got to be friends. She described her pussy too, and I asked her to show me."

"Did you think it was weird, when you compared it to the rest of her?"

"Different, but I wouldn't call it weird."

"She probably would give you a taste if I asked her to. She told me she'd do anything I asked her to do. I think Mama is so convinced that I need to marry Joyce, that she's going to change her will so that I'd be forced to do it. She is worth about a half billion dollars." Brenda gasped when I said that, but part of it might have been that I stuck two fingers in her hungry pussy at the same time I was saying it. "I'm not going to let that kind of money go, Emily. I think that means you'll have to settle for just being a play thing for Brenda and me. I might have to share you with Joyce too. You made a mistake not taking me up on my earlier offer. It was a better deal than what you can get now."

"I'm not going to do it. You think you know what I want, but this isn't it."

"Do you want to say anything else to Brenda, Em? This is the last time I'm going to let her speak with you."

"I can speak to her if I want to. You don't own her."

"You're wrong about that, Em. I do own her, and I'm probably going to wind up owning you as well, because, deep down, that's what you want to happen. I'll let you speak to Brenda again, but tell me how wet I've made your pussy first."

"It isn't wet. I'm not turned on by this at all. In fact, I feel sick."

"You're lying, and now both of us know it. I bet you'll be cumming within ten minutes of getting off the phone with us. Brenda's almost cumming already. I've been finger fucking her while we've been talking. Here she is. Bye, Emily."

I handed the receiver to Brenda, before pushing her back and spreading her legs open. I lowered my head and started strumming her extended clit with my tongue. Soon, she was trying to move away from me, but my fingers were keeping her from too much movement. Emily and I both listened as she reached her orgasm. When she started yelling at me to keep licking her, Emily hung up.

Brenda and I had a nice long shower, and then I drove her home.

"Brenda, you aren't going to get any more chances if you screw this one up, so you need to think about what you'd be giving up, if you decide to do what you want instead of what I'm telling you to do. Emily is going to be after you to talk to her or to do things. You need to do what I said. She wants to ruin this for you, because she can't stand it that I took you away again."

"I won't talk to her, Kenny. I like what we did tonight. I never liked most of that lesbian stuff anyway. Thank you for changing your mind about licking me."

"I didn't change my mind, I was sending Emily a message. Be a good girl and soon, you'll have that new car."

"A sports car?"

"A domestic car, Brenda. I don't buy foreign cars."

"You bought Jane a Toyota, that's a foreign car."

"Hans bought it, and Mama paid for it. I don't buy foreign cars. Maybe I'll get you a Corvette. You'd look fantastic in a red Corvette."

"I was thinking of that cute Mercedes coupe. A girl at school, her mom had a new one."

"Well, if you can get that girl's mom to buy you one, more power to you. If you want me to buy you one, it will be a domestic car."

"Okay. I just liked the way that Mercedes looked. I would look good in a red Corvette."

"You'd look good in anything. I'll call you sometime tomorrow. Remember, be good." I saw her beaming at my compliment about her looks. Brenda was the same as she had always been. I just hoped she'd developed some self control, and, an appreciation of there being consequences for her actions. She was really a fantastic piece of ass.

-------

It was after nine thirty when I got home, and I was starving. While Gerta was warming me up some leftovers for dinner, I kept Hans entertained by telling him about Brenda and Emily, and the phone call the three of us had participated in. I could tell that Gerta was listening to every word. I had no doubt that Mama would soon be getting a play by play as well. It was ten thirty when I finally finished eating and talking and climbed up the stairs. I was tired, but in a good way. Not exhausted, and still just a little bit hyper and restless too.

I really believed I had gotten on the right track with Emily. It sounded right to me, as I went back over my conclusions. I'd been forced to make some assumptions to arrive at my conclusions, but not too many, and none of them required wild leaps of faith. Even though Emily denied my allegations, she had stayed on the line, then had talked to Brenda, after she knew what we were up to.

I decided I wasn't ready to fall asleep yet, so I knocked on Joyce's door. I didn't hear her say anything, so I opened her door and looked inside. I heard the shower running, so I walked over to the bathroom and knocked on the open door.

"Are you alone, Joyce?"

"Kenny! Of course, what did you think?"

"I didn't know, that's why I asked. You keep getting cuter, so, I shouldn't take it for granted that you didn't have someone in there with you." She stuck her head out of the shower door, and stuck her tongue out at me."Guess what I've been up to?"

"I don't know, but I'll bet it wasn't working."

"I went to the office, but you were gone, and I couldn't concentrate because of this idea I had. I wish you'd been there, because I needed someone to talk to. I ended up driving over to Uncle Bunny's house, and spent most of the afternoon fucking."

As soon as I said fucking, Joyce threw the shower door open again, looking at me. Seeing her naked like that was always a little exciting for me. I wondered if there was something mixed up in my own head, to feel that way whenever I saw her.

"Emily?"

"No, Brenda. She fucks even better than she used to, but she still can't suck a dick very good."

Joyce shut the door again.

"Go over and sit on my bed, Kenny. I'll be finished in here in a minute, and you can tell me all about it. Does Emily know yet?"

"She knows. We called her, after." I went out of the bathroom, and went over and took my shoes off before jumping on her bed. She came out a few minutes later, drying her hair with a towel, and wearing a thick, terry cloth, robe that was several sizes too large on her.

"Start from the beginning and tell me."

I told her everything that happened, starting with my talk with Mama, and ending with what I'd said to Brenda when I was dropping her off. Joyce must have interrupted me fifty times, asking me about something I'd just told her. I was laying down as I told her, and she was sitting up on the bed, facing me and sitting at about my waist area.

"I'm really thinking I'm right about this thing with Emily. I think she does all of it for the abuse, not just for the sex."

"It could be both. I wish I could have seen it and been there when you were on the phone talking to Emily. I'm surprised she told you that about asking me to show her my pussy. She asked me some stuff she didn't tell you about too. Mostly about how you fucked me, and whether you were rough with me. I told her you were gentle, even though you weren't. I knew she'd be jealous if I told her how you really were."

"Was I really that rough? I remember I was very hot, and that you were very small, and easy to move around, but I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"You weren't too rough. Don't you remember how much I loved it? My pussy was sore after, but, that was because I wasn't used to doing that. If I told her how rough you were, she would have asked me if I liked it that way."

"You seemed to like it."

"I know. I'm sitting here right now, wishing you'd do it to me the same way again."

"I'm willing, except I'm not sure I can get hard again."

That was all the encouragement Joyce needed. She had my dick out and in her mouth in less than ten seconds. She was good, but it wasn't so much her sucking, as watching my dick fitting in her mouth. As soon as I was really stiff, I rolled her over, opened her robe some more and slid my dick up and down her slit until I knew she was ready for me to put it in. This time, I tried to be more gentle with her, but she wasn't having any of that. Right from the beginning, she was urging me on to do it faster and deeper.

I lifted her up off the bed at one point and pressed her whole body down on my dick. I thought it might hurt her, but she didn't seem hurt by any of it. I slammed her back down on the bed because I was getting close myself. I lifted her little ass up and drove in and out of her, shaking her around like a little rag doll. I had reached the point where I was cumming, and that's all I could concentrate on.

I could feel Joyce cumming too, and I could hear her trying to breathe as my weight was pressed down on her chest. She had to be uncomfortable, so I tried rolling off of her. Instead of allowing me to slip out of her, she rolled with me, ending up on top of me, still having my cock impaled deeply in her pussy.

She started rocking back and forth on me, concentrating on her own needs. She was chanting something that sounded like "cum, cum, cum, cum, oh God, I'm cumming some more." She kept right on going, until I was starting to become concerned. She finally started slowing back down, until she just allowed her body to kind of collapse on my chest. I felt her hard little nipples sticking into me. I didn't move, letting her lay there, enjoying the little bit of weight she represented.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you. I actually felt better about this time with you than the last time. You sure enjoy your fucking, Joyce."

"With you I do."

"I enjoy it with you too. You go a little bit crazy. I'm lucky you aren't bigger, you'd be throwing me all over the bed."

"Did you mean it, what you said to Emily about marrying me?"

"I'm not sure if I did or not. I could never treat my wife the way I think Emily prefers being treated. I meant what I said about thinking Mama may be changing her will to make my not marrying you be a pretty expensive decision for me to make."

"I'd give you the money anyway, Kenny. You shouldn't be forced to marry me. I think she was right saying I'm the best one for you to marry though. You won't ever find anyone who would love you as much as I do. But, you don't have to marry me for me to keep loving you. I might need you to do what you just did, every once in awhile though. When you have to go a long time without it, you appreciate it more. I don't need you all the time, but even once in awhile would be nice."

"If I did marry you, it would be because I loved you. Maybe not the way you want me to love you, but, I do love you, and you're very important to me. I really like fucking you too."

"If you did marry me, I'd never complain, not about anything. I wouldn't be mad, no matter what you did."

"You say that now, Joyce, but, after awhile, you would resent some of the things I'd want to do, or the way I felt. It's just human nature. I'm probably still a long way from wanting to get married, and you are definitely in the running. Would you like to come into my room tonight, and we could sleep together?"

It was the right thing for me to say. I put my pants back on, and Joyce put on her bath robe and we walked over to my room together. I locked the deadbolt after we entered my room. Mama liked to sneak around too much, and it was unsettling, waking up and catching her staring down at you. I was sure whichever maid it was that changed Joyce's bed linens would be reporting to Gerta about all the cum stains she found on them.

We went to sleep naked, with Joyce cradled in close to me. It didn't take me long to get to sleep, and when I woke up, the following morning, my dick was hard, and it was resting trapped between Joyce's legs.

"Are you awake?" She giggled when I asked her that. "How long have you been pretending that you're a boy?"

"I was trying to see if I could make you cum this way." I felt her moving her legs slightly, and I could feel it as it gently massaged my cock.

"That would take a long time. This is a pee hard on. I need to go to the bathroom."

"It isn't because you were dreaming about me?"

"Maybe part of it is. Mostly, it's because I need to pee. I can come back, after, and that one would be because of you."

I came back and we spent an enjoyable half an hour together. There was nothing that Joyce was in the slightest bit reluctant about. It seemed like she would do anything I asked of her. She made it seem like there wasn't anything that pleased me that she wouldn't want to do. After we were done, we took a shower together, and wound up seeing how long I could keep her lifted up in my arms, with my dick buried in her pussy, as far up as it could go. It was a long time, but when I finally did cum, my legs were just too weak to support the two of us. She managed to get one of her feet planted in time to stop her descent. I wound up on my ass, and it smarted, because I landed right on my tailbone.

"You know that Mama is probably going to be waiting somewhere in the hallway, so she can see who comes out of my bedroom door. Do you want to try to fool her, or do you want to just walk out with me?"

"With you."

"Okay, when we go out, go in your bedroom and hurry up getting dressed. We're going over to Brenda's to pick her up when you're ready. We'll go somewhere first, to get something to eat. I want you to listen to her, then tell me whether you think she's sincere or not."

"What about Emily?"

"I'm not sure. You can call her if you want to. Tell her we're going out to look to see if there's a new red Corvette over in Bolling that we can buy for Brenda. I think I'll buy it in my name, then let her drive around in it, for as long as she keeps doing what I tell her. We need to get her a company gas card too. I'm going to have Dad put her on the payroll, as my intern."

When Joyce and I walked out of my room, Mama was just coming out of hers. Too much of a coincidence for any of us to believe it was one.

"Morning, Mama. I was taking Joyce for a little test drive last night. I hope we didn't keep you awake?"

"Good morning sweetheart, good morning, Joyce dear. No, I slept very well. Was the test drive a success?"

"I have no complaints. How about you, Joyce?"

"None, Kenny. Although you almost made me fall down in the shower when you fell." Joyce waltzed off to her room, while I continued on to the right, taking the stairs two at a time. I saw Mama hurrying into Joyce's room, right behind her. While Joyce and Mama were upstairs talking, I had Gerta make me some breakfast. Now that Mama had Joyce, I knew we'd be leaving too late for breakfast. I picked up the phone in the kitchen and dialed Brenda's number. Richard picked up the phone.

"Put Brenda on, this is Kenny."

"I bet you're pissed I got my money, Parsons."

"No, I'm glad you did. Uncle Bunny wanted you to have that money, and you did what he asked you to do. I saw your new truck, impressive."

"You like it? I'm buying a boat too, so my dad and I can go fishing. Are you really getting your own plane?"

"Sure am. It's only a little one, but they're lots of fun too. I'm going to get some friends together, and we'll go over to the lake and drop bags filled with shit on the fishermen in their boat."

"Ass hole!"

"Just kidding, Richard. Put Brenda on, please."

"Hold on a sec." I heard him bellowing out for Brenda to come to the phone.

"Hello, Kenny?"

"Nobody but. Get dressed. Joyce and I thought we'd take you to Bolling to see if they have any red Corvettes at the dealership. I'm going to buy one in my name, and let you use it as long as you're behaving well. That way, you won't have to wait so long for it."

"Really, today?"

"As soon as Joyce and Mama get finished with critiquing my performance last night."

"You told them that we did it?"

"No, after I got home last night, I was still a little bit horny, so I went to see Joyce, and I told her about you and me, so she started getting horny too. Next thing I knew she was sucking my cock, and then I fucked her. We got tired, so we went to sleep, and this morning, the same thing happened, twice. So, don't expect any action from me today. You girls wore me out."

"Did you really do that?"

"Yes, and before you start acting like the old Brenda, let me remind you of our deal. This is all about me being happy. I already told you I was going to do things like this, so don't go getting all upset."

"I'm surprised, that's all. I'm not happy, but if you're going to do it with her, and with Emily, when are you going to have time for me?"

"I did you first yesterday, Brenda. I don't think you have any legitimate complaints."

"Was I really good like you told me yesterday?"

"Truly excellent. Don't get me started thinking about it, or we won't get anything done today. Mama was very happy that I've started paying attention to you and Joyce again. She was worried that I'd get too serious with Emily, instead of just playing the field. She asked my yesterday if I'd gotten Emily pregnant."

"What am I supposed to tell my father when he asks me about the car I'm driving?"

"Tell him it's a company car because I'm hiring you to be my new intern for the summer."

"You're giving me a job?"

"Absolutely. You'll be my personal assistant on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. On Tuesday and Thursday, you'll be one of my girlfriends. On the weekends, we'll think up another title for you."

"Mistress?"

"Maybe your parents will let you come over to my house for a sleep over with Joyce."

"I don't want to sleep with her." She stopped for a few seconds, and then continued. "I will though, if I need to."

"She sleeps with me sometimes, but you don't need to tell your parents that."

"What about Emily?"

"What about her? You concentrate on me. I've got someone else working on Emily."

I got off the phone with Brenda, telling her to be ready to go when I pulled up and beeped my car horn. Joyce and Mama came downstairs after I finished my breakfast. When Mama walked by, she trailed her hand across the back of my neck. I guess she was satisfied with Joyce's progress report on me.

"Joyce, call Emily and let her know that we're going over to Bolling to look for a car for Brenda." I saw Mama's eyes get big, and she whirled around so that she was facing me again. I guess Gerta hadn't had a chance to fill her in yet about Brenda and Emily.

"Did you just say a car for Brenda?"

"Yes, I'm making her my new intern for the summer. We gave Joyce a car right away, so I don't see why we can't do the same for Brenda."

"This is Brenda Connor we're discussing?"

"Talk to Gerta after Joyce and I have left. Mama, you've got to keep up better with what's going on around here. I've stopped taking girls so seriously. My new motto is: have fun, and spread the happiness. By the way, if Georgia should call, Brenda will be Joyce's guest for a sleepover. They'll be sleeping in Joyce's room."

"When is this sleepover, dear?"

"Not sure yet. I'll let you know when something firm is set up. Come on, Joyce. You need to call Emily. Don't forget to tell her she's invited to go to Bolling too."

Joyce called, but Emily declined to go with us. The call lasted less than a minute. It seemed like Emily was intent on cutting off any form of communication with me. I had known that was a very real possibility.

In the car, I told Joyce to stay in the front seat when Brenda got in, but to offer Brenda her choice between the end seat or the middle. Brenda came running out and chose the middle. When she got in, I gave her a very warm welcoming kiss. She was wearing a light summer dress, and I pushed up the hem so that it was well past her knees.

"You have very nice legs, Brenda. So smooth too. I like to feel them. You don't mind me feeling them while we drive over to Bolling do you?"

"Kenny, can we not do that now?"

"Because of Joyce being here, Brenda? I'm pretty sure Joyce has seen legs before. She knows I like to feel girl's legs. You know that, don't you, Joyce?"

"I know you feel legs. Brenda's are very nice. Don't mind me, Brenda, I'll look away if you want."

"You don't feel funny that he's touching me, after what he did to you last night, and this morning?"

"Funny, no. Why should I? He told me he was going to have other girls. I'm just happy he decided that I could be one of them."

"You really don't care?"

"No. I just want him to be happy. I'm very satisfied with what he gives me. You're so much prettier than me, I'm lucky that he even looks at me."

"Not true, Joyce. You're cute, like a pixie. Brenda, underneath that skirt, Joyce has a regular sized pussy. Her pussy grew before the rest of her did. Have her tell you about all the stuff she's gone through, just to start growing again."

We spent the rest of the ride with Joyce telling Brenda about all her shots and pills, and about growing almost three inches in less than a year. While Joyce was talking, I had my hand busy underneath Brenda's dress. She was stiff and uncomfortable with it at first, but after Joyce seemed to pay no attention to what she and I were doing, she relaxed her legs and let me rub a finger back and forth on her pantied slit. By the time we got to Bolling, and I needed both hands on the wheel, Brenda was sitting very close to me, with her hand on my leg. Several times, I felt her give my dick a little friendly nudge.



-------

Chapter 37

We spent over an hour looking at cars over at the Chevy dealership. They had two Corvettes, one black, and the other one canary yellow. Brenda didn't care for either one of them. Joyce suggested we go see the man who helped her with the lease on her Lincoln, so we all drove over to his office, and spoke to him about what Brenda wanted.

There was a new Buick Regal Grand National, with a custom red paint job, that he had sitting there in stock, due to a customer failing to get his credit approval for the lease. The red color looked more like orange to me, but Brenda really liked the car. The leasing guy told me our company could lease the car for three years, under what he claimed were extremely favorable terms, owing to the forfeited lease deposit. I looked at the color of the car and thought I understood why he was being so generous to us.

I asked him what kind of deal we could get on a straight cash purchase, and was very pleasantly surprised by the amount he quoted me. Compared to a Corvette, Cadillac or a Lincoln, it was very reasonable. Because Brenda liked it so much, I bought it for her, putting the car in my name, and purchasing full insurance coverage from the lease company representative.

After all the paperwork was completed, I told Brenda to follow me in her new car, and set out for Gracerie Cocina, thinking that we could get something to eat, and I'd have a chance to ask Grace how everything was going. We were all sitting together in a big table, towards the back of the restaurant, Grace, Brenda, Joyce and myself, with Marie coming and going as she brought out small plates of different foods she wanted us to try.

Marie was always trying to make little changes to the menu. Grace would print up little three by five cards to clip to the regular menu, showing whichever new Marie Special currently being featured. It was less expensive than constantly replacing the restaurant menu would have been.

I had been busy eating, and trying to explain my new living philosophy to Grace, but it kept coming out sounding wrong. The way I was explaining it, my idea sounded like I was only taking advantage of, and exploiting, Joyce, Brenda and Emily. It sounded like my only reason for doing this was so I wouldn't have to be unhappy.

"Kenny, this is such a crummy idea for you to have. How could you even believe something like that would work?" Grace was trying to restrain herself as she spoke, probably in deference to Brenda and Joyce's feelings. I knew, as she spoke, that I'd failed to adequately explain the other parts of my deals. I'd only been talking about what I was getting out of my new way of looking at things.

"I'm taking care of things for them too, Grace. It isn't as one-sided as you think it is."

"Taking care of them by buying them things, Kenny?"

"Not just that. I help each of them get what they want and need too. Joyce, do you feel like I'm taking any kind of advantage of you?"

"No. I think this works out fine for me. I'm getting exactly what I want."

"How about you, Brenda? I know you don't like some parts of this, but, everything considered, do you think what I'm doing is unfair to you?"

"Maybe it isn't unfair to me, Kenny, but you don't let each of us pick the parts we want. If we could do that, it would be a lot better. We don't get to have any choices. You have all the choices."

"I made the proposal, and you had the choice of either accepting or refusing."

"Kenny, is it fair to tempt someone with what you know they want, just to get them to do what you want, when you know they don't want it too?" Grace asked me the question as soon as Brenda stopped speaking.

"That's how you run your business, Grace. You tempt people to come in and give you their money, which they don't want to do, in exchange for the great food that Marie is cooking for them. They want the food, and you want their money. A fair trade."

"Yes, but I don't make them fuck me, in order to get served."

"If you did, this restaurant would be profitable in no time." Grace reached over and slapped my arm, but she was laughing at what I'd said too

"Brenda, would you still let Kenny have sex with you, even if you weren't getting a new car?" Joyce jumped in to help me out. Grace was feeding into Brenda's own sense of being exploited. She was always looking for anything that made it seem she wasn't getting what she deserved.

"Sure. Having sex with him is one of the good parts. It was a big part of the reason I agreed to do this."

Grace stood up, concern still showing on her face.

"It's still taking advantage, even if they all go along with it. It isn't something that you would have even thought of doing, back when I first met you." Grace looked down at me when she spoke.

"I'm getting smarter now. I understand what needs to happen for me to be happy. I'm not hurting any of them. Two of the girls involved were ones who helped make me unhappy. I'm just trying to set things up so we can all get what we want from each other. Brenda and Emily weren't happy with the way things were. Emily is still unhappy, but that's because we haven't figured out what it takes for her to want to join the deal."

"Did you talk this over with your mother?"

"She knows, Grace. She knows enough about what's going on. She might not know all the particulars, but she has a good, general, idea."

"Do what you want to, Kenny. To me, it sounds like you're using your money to buy what you want."

"In some ways I am, but I'm also using it to set things up so they can have what they want. It would be like you say, if all I did was pay them some money, then take what I wanted, but that isn't what I'm doing."

After lunch, which had gotten me into a bad mood, because I wanted Grace to like me, and to think well of me, we drove back to Ridgeline. Before we got in the cars, I told Brenda that Joyce and I were going over to Uncle Bunny's house, to talk about what to do about Emily, and to decide if we wanted to go to the dance at the club that night. I invited her to come to Uncle Bunny's too, but said she could decide to go back home by herself.

"Are you two going to be doing anything together?"

"Probably not. We already fooled around this morning."

"Are you going to try to call Emily?"

"I don't think so. I don't know what more I could tell her. If she isn't interested, there isn't much more to do."

"She'd come over to your uncle's if I asked her to come. She'd just want to know what we'd all be doing there."

"What you mean is she'd come over to be with you?"

"Probably mostly for that, but I feel bad that you made me stop being her friend. I could still be her friend, but without any of the other sex stuff. She could hang out with us, and not have to do anything. I don't see what that would hurt."

"Instead of calling her, you can drive over and show her the new car. Don't do anything sexual with her though. No kissing, nothing. Tell her we're all over at Uncle Bunny's talking about what's going to be happening. Invite her to come, and tell her no one is going to be doing anything."

We drove over to Uncle Bunny's, and Brenda followed behind, us until we turned off. When we did turn off, at Uncle Bunny's house, she continued on, driving over to Emily's house. Joyce and I were sitting in the living room, talking about what Grace had said to me, when my phone rang. It was Emily. I knew then that Brenda had shared my number with her.

"Why did you send her over to see me?"

"She wanted to show you her new car, and she said she felt bad that I wouldn't let her stay friend's with you."

"She said you wanted me to come over there?"

"I thought we could talk. I don't see why you're all upset about any of this. You said you were done with me anyway."

"I was, but I never said I was done with Brenda. You did that just to hurt me."

"I did it because I wanted to fuck her. Why should you get to keep all the good pussy just for yourself? I was willing to share, up until you started being such a pain in the ass."

"You didn't need Brenda. Didn't you tell me you could find a hundred girls, all prettier than me, to do whatever you told them to?"

"Prettier than you, but not prettier than Brenda. Brenda is special. I like having Brenda around me again."

"Even if we talked, I don't see how anything would change. I'm never going to do what you're asking."

"Maybe not, but it doesn't cost anything to talk. I think Brenda misses having you around to fawn all over her. I don't treat her the same way you do."

"Because you don't care about her."

"Let's not get into who cares about who, okay? You can come over with Brenda, or you can stay home. Brenda's coming over here, and then we're going to make some plans."

"How come you're giving her a job? Is it because you don't trust her when you're off working?"

"No. It's because I have a bedroom off of my office, that I've never had a chance to use. I figured that Joyce and I might like taking breaks at the office. Brenda could help make our breaks a lot more interesting."

"I'm going to tell her what you just said. You only want her for one thing."

"Fine. it will save me the trouble of having to explain it to her myself. I appreciate your help."

"If I came over and talked to you, what would you do for me?"

"What would you want me to do?"

"Tell Brenda that it's all right if we do things together."

"No. Brenda doesn't really want to do that, and just talking to you isn't anything that would be worth something like that. If I was fucking you at the same time, I might let you eat her, but Joyce gets to watch us doing that."

"I'm not going to do that."

"Tell Brenda she needs to get back here. I need to talk to her about who we're going to get to take your place."

"I would do part of what you first asked, but not with Joyce watching."

"I would do what I first offered, but not with Joyce watching, and not with Brenda being eaten."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Because I'd fuck you really good."

"I don't want to do anything with you anymore."

"Tell Brenda I need her here. If she's so anxious to have her pussy licked, I'll either do it myself, or have Joyce do it."

"Kenny?"

"Come back here, Brenda, Emily doesn't want to play with us."

"She hasn't told me that. If you want her to come talk to you, you just have to be nicer to her."

"Do you want to keep giving me advice, or do you want to do what we both agreed you'd do?"

"You said I was supposed to help you get what you wanted."

"Are you sure you aren't trying to get what you want, Brenda? Are you missing Emily's tongue that much?"

"That isn't why I'm trying to do what you asked. You keep saying things like that to me, and I'm going to start wishing I hadn't agreed to your plan."

"I'm sorry, Brenda, really. Talking to Emily gets me upset sometimes, and I'm taking part of that out on you. Thank you for trying to help me. You go home, Brenda. We'll talk again later."

"I'm not planning on doing anything I shouldn't be, Kenny. If I stay here and talk to Emily some more, it might help."

"Okay, Brenda, if that's what you think might help. Try to remember what I told you though. If you do what Emily wants, that is going to end our agreement."

"Joyce is your friend, you're my friend, and Emily is my friend. That's being honest. I worry about how you are treating her now, and about what this is doing to her. She is having the most problem with how you're suddenly changing everything around. Plus, she's worried about what you're doing with me. I've been telling her that this is what I want too, and it's what Joyce wants."

"Brenda, I already told you that you can stay there and talk with her. I'm not accusing you of anything bad. I just wanted to remind you that you can't have things both ways. You can't do what Emily wants, and do what I want too. You have to choose."

"I'm going to stay here for a little while longer. I understand what you don't want to happen, and it won't. I promise. Did you decide yet about tonight?"

"I think Joyce and I will stay here tonight. I don't feel much like dancing. Remember what I said. If you want to come over later, you're welcome to."

It was only about thirty minutes later that Brenda called, telling me that she was at home. There was some tension in her voice when she was speaking to me. She seemed upset that I hadn't trusted her enough when she asked me about her staying with Emily. I told her honestly, that it would take me a while to not feel the need to remind and warn her of my fears and concerns. I told her that I wanted Emily to know that she first had to go through me if she wanted to spend time doing more than talking with her.

"I could have gotten her to come over to your uncle's house if you'd only treated her nicer."

"I could have gotten her over here by myself, if I wanted to let her have her own way with things. She had a chance before, that's when she could have gotten things her own way. She didn't want it when I offered it to her. Don't worry about her. She has to decide for herself what she wants."

Joyce and I watched television until eleven o'clock, then we went to bed. We ended up sleeping in Elizabeth's old bedroom, because the bed linen in Uncle Bunny's bedroom hadn't been changed yet.

We didn't do anything, except snuggle close. I wasn't in the mood for anything. In spite of what I'd said to Grace, and later to Brenda, I was troubled by what I was attempting to do with Emily. She wasn't reacting the way I had expected. I wondered if I really wouldn't be better served to just leave her alone.

Even if she decided to join us now, it was obvious to me that it wouldn't be because of me. I couldn't believe I'd be happy with having Emily come to me only so she could be with Brenda.

-------

Sunday, Brenda called me at eight thirty, wanting to know if I wanted to go for a drive with her in her new car. She made it clear that she wanted it to just be the two of us. I let Joyce leave in my car, telling her that I'd catch a ride home with Brenda.

I was really beginning to appreciate the way Joyce treated everything. She never acted disappointed by anything that happened, and she never tried to go against what I had decided to do. It was enough for her that I included her in my plans, and that she got to be around me more this way. I know she appreciated the sexual attention I was paying her.

Brenda wanted to drive somewhere that was a long distance, so we decided on going to Topeka and back. We had just gotten started, only halfway to Bolling, before Brenda started telling me her news.

"Emily called me last night, and we talked for a long time. You didn't tell me not to talk to her again."

"I didn't think I needed to tell you that. What did you two finally decide?"

"She told me that if it was just us three, she could go along with it."

"That isn't anything new. She told me the same thing yesterday."

"It would be a lot better to me too, if Joyce wasn't included. I'm sorry, but I don't want to do anything with her. Emily doesn't want to either."

"Everyone wants to change things to be the way they want them. Joyce has to be a part of any deal I make. My mother would insist, and I think it's for the best too. I'm probably going to marry her someday."

"You'd pick her over us?"

"I'd pick what I want, what my mother wants, and what Joyce wants, over what you and Emily want. I told you and Emily about the money."

"You already have enough money."

"Brenda, that's a stupid thing for anyone to say. It surprises me, hearing you say something like that. Do you have any idea how much half a billion dollars is? You could spend a million dollars a month, without ever touching the principal."

"You aren't going to change your mind?"

"No. It isn't just the money either. I really like Joyce. She takes good care of me in ways that you and Emily can't. I can plan things I need to do with her, and she helps me think of ways to get done what needs doing. I live a much better life, just because she's a part of it. Of the three of you, she's the one I'd have to give up the most if I ever lost her."

"If she has to be a part of things, then you shouldn't make Emily and I have to do things with her."

"It wouldn't be right to exclude her. She should be an equal partner in this. I had the same kind of problems doing things with her too, but, once you know her better, it goes away."

"Emily told me she wasn't going to change her mind about Joyce."

"What about you? Is this going to be a deal breaker with you, too?"

Brenda took her eyes off the road long enough to look over at me. I knew she'd like to take a chance and say it would be a deal breaker. I'd already decided that I'd make her turn around and take me back to her house if she said it. I'd drive myself home in the Buick. She must have noticed the determined look on my face, because she asked me another question instead of answering mine.

"If I said it was all right, that I'd do things with Joyce, would you consider not making Emily have to do things with her also?"

"I'm not negotiating with you about Emily. Emily can do her own negotiating with me. My question was, are you willing to do what I tell you to? With Joyce, or anyone else I tell you I want you to do things with?"

"No other guys though, just girls?"

"No other guys. If Emily isn't going to be joining us, I'll get someone else, but whoever I get, I'll still expect you to do what I ask you to do."

"I'll do it, but I'd rather not have to. I don't mind doing some things with girls, but I'd much rather do them with Emily, instead of with Joyce, or some other girl I didn't even know."

"I'm not telling you that you need to enjoy it, Brenda. You have to at least pretend that you do though, and not go around making everyone feel bad about you having you do those things with them."

"Emily told me to ask you to call her tonight. She told me to tell you that, if you wouldn't accept what she offered."

The rest of the day, we had a good time. Brenda didn't bring anything up about the agreement, after she gave me Emily's message. We had a lunch in Topeka, then Brenda and I each bought a pair of these really warm boots that we saw being sold along the side of the road that we were driving on, right after having eaten. It was a native American family that was selling them, and the boots had this heavy interior lining inside. It looked to me like it was some kind of wool lining. They weren't very expensive, and Brenda liked having us stop off just to see what they were selling.

We ended up going over to Uncle Bunny's house later that afternoon. I didn't know if Joyce had said something to Gerta or not, but the bed linens had been changed in all the bedrooms while I was gone. I didn't eat her pussy this time, and I didn't ask her to suck me either. It was comfortable sex. I don't know what she was thinking about, but I was thinking about whether I should call Emily or not. I wanted to call her, but I thought my calling would represent a backward, retreating, step for me.

Afterwards, when Brenda dropped me off at home, I told her I'd decided not to bother calling Emily.

"I don't want you talking to her anymore either. If she calls you, tell her I'm not interested in changing anything to please her. Tell her that I said you can't talk to her anymore. After you tell her that, say goodbye, then hang up."

"Should I call her if she doesn't call me?"

"No. If she doesn't call, you don't need to give her my message. I'll look around for someone else, maybe someone older than us. I wish I had a phone number for Bea."

"Bea? That girl that lived at your house before? She wouldn't be too bad. I kind of liked her, after I got to know her."

"She liked you too. She knows a lot about girl's pussies. I'll ask Hans and Gerta if they've heard from her. Bea wouldn't have any problem doing any of this, with you, or with Joyce either."

I never had any intention of getting in touch with Bea. I just said that because I knew Brenda would tell Emily that I was considering replacing her with Bea. She knew all about Bea, and about Bea and my Aunt Clara. Emily thought Bea was very pretty, so she'd consider her a legitimate threat, and that was what I wanted.

I had told Brenda to meet me at my house, at seven thirty the next morning. I still hadn't told my Dad about my hiring her as my assistant, but he wouldn't object if I told him that Joyce and I both wanted her working with us. Even if he did object, I was certain that Mama would make him change his mind.

After dinner, Joyce and I went upstairs to her room. I filled her in about my day, telling her about Brenda's attempt to negotiate with me, some of it for herself, but really, mostly for Emily.

"You could have just let her have what she wanted, Kenny. I wouldn't mind at all."

"Emily would take any giving in I might do, as though I was admitting that I needed her. She'd see it as some kind of weakness on my part. If I let her get away with refusing to do things with you, there would just be other demands from her later. Better for me to hold off, and then wait to see if anything happens on her end. I'm doing fine right now, just with how things currently stand. I'm not just sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I'm starting to wonder if it would be good to get Emily back this way. She doesn't seem to care that much about me now."

At ten thirty, we put away the group homes stuff we'd been working on, and went to bed. I slept in her bed this time. I told her I wanted her to suck my dick. When she first started doing it, she made a face at me, and then took it out of her mouth.

"Brenda's pussy juices, Joyce. I thought I'd give you a little, preview, taste. I also didn't have time for a shower if I was going to be back in time for dinner. You don't have to give me a blow job now, not if you don't like the taste of her."

Joyce put my dick back in her mouth, and started making her little tongue a lot more active than it was before. I finally had to practically pry it out of her mouth, before rolling her on top of me and sinking myself up inside her. I let her do all the work, but I did toy with her little, budding, titties, because it was something we both liked doing.

She was humping her pussy back and forth on top of me, trying for another cum, when I started talking to her about all the nasty things I was going to force her to do with Brenda and Emily some day. We'd had never talked about me making her do anything before. It was always left vague, like she could do things if she wanted to. By switching things up on her and letting her know I'd be making her do things too, I hoped to make her feel like she was an equal part of the equation we were forming. I wanted her to know that I felt like she was the equal to any of those other girls.

When she finished with me, which only occurred because my dick wilted and fell out of her, after my second cum, she rolled off of me, and then kissed me with a lot of passion. She settled herself down beside me, fitting down until she had her little butt pressed against my wet crotch area. We slept like that, and I woke up at six, with her giving me another blow job. As soon as she knew I was awake, she pushed me so that I'd roll over on my back, and then climbed up on top of me again. We had a nice time fucking, for about fifteen minutes, before I lifted her off me and carried her over to the bathroom.

"We both need to shower, Joyce. Brenda's coming over in a few minutes. Today's her first day at work, and we should get in by eight. I don't want her thinking we keep banker's hours. By the way, if Dad asks you, you want Brenda as an assistant too. Otherwise, he's going to think I only hired her, so I could take her to work and fuck her."

"He'd be wrong to think that?"

"Of course he would. I'm hiring her, so both of us can fuck her." Joyce started giggling uncontrollably, when I told her that.

"On our desks?"

"Did you ever wonder what's behind that door against the wall there in my office?" She nodded that she hadn't. "It's a bedroom, with a bed, and there's another room, a bathroom, with a huge shower and everything. It was Mama's father's office, back when he ran the company. I guess it just runs in the blood, liking to fuck girls at work. We're going to take Brenda in there today, and we're going to find out if she really meant what she said, or if she was just saying it so I wouldn't be mad at her."

"Not today, Kenny, we can't. I need to do a lot of things to finish up what I've been working on. I need to really work today, so I'll be ready for tomorrow's meeting."

"I guess you're another one who doesn't understand all the rules that you've agreed to yet, Joyce. If you're going to be one of my girls, then making me happy has to be your first priority. We won't take all day fucking, but we can spare an hour or so. We'll eat in. At least you and Brenda will." I smiled at her, knowing that she was getting nervous about what was coming. It was one thing when it was just us talking about things. Now, when I told her that the day had arrived, she was having doubts and second thoughts. "Joyce, I can't let you have any more privileges than any of my other girls. I have to make you do all the same things I'm making them do." Joyce was beaming at me as I told her that. I think I'd finally managed to convince her that I valued her the same as I did Brenda or Emily.

Brenda got to the house at seven fifteen. Joyce and I were eating with Mama in the dining room when she arrived. Mama went and answered the door, after I tried to jump up to get it myself. You could tell that Mama was excited to see Brenda invited to the house again. Brenda had dressed up nice for her first day at work. All of us made comments about how nice she looked.

"You look wonderful dear. I'm so happy to see that you and Kenny are getting along once more." Mama was sitting Brenda down right next to her, so that she was directly across from me. Joyce had seated herself on my right when we joined Mama for breakfast.

"She looks good enough to eat. Don't you agree, Joyce?" I was pleased to observe all three ladies blushing at my remark. Joyce recovered first.

"Very nice. That blouse really makes your hair look nice, Brenda." Brenda smiled at Joyce's compliment. She liked nothing better than sitting with us, having us all complimenting her beauty.

"Mama, I didn't mention to Dad yet that I'm hiring Brenda to be my intern. You don't think he'll mind, do you?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. Brenda is very close to being considered a part of our family. All of the Connors family are. Why should he mind that we're hiring her? Welcome to the company, Brenda. If Kenny tries to work you too hard, you come and see me. I'll make him quit it."

"Mama. You don't want to spoil her on her first day. She's going to be working under Joyce and me. We won't work her too hard, will we Joyce?"

"No."

"See, Mama? Joyce won't let me abuse Brenda too badly."

We got in my car again, with Brenda once again choosing to sit in the middle. We weren't even out of the driveway before I had my hand up under her full skirt. Brenda made no protest, and Joyce made it a point to not be looking at what we were doing.

"Looking forward to your first day, Brenda?"

"What will I be doing? You never told me."

"We'll have you phoning people to get questions answered about some things. We might have you call your dad and ask him to quote us a price for a grain order we're thinking of placing with a broker. If he has the best bid, we'll probably give him the extra business. We'll let you call him last too." I had a finger up inside her panty leg, and was trying to get it inside her pussy, but without any success. "We also will eat our lunch with you. We have a special lunch room in my office. I think we'll order out, and have it delivered to us."

"Will I have to type or anything like that?"

"No, but you will have to take notes when you get those answers for us."

"What about my pay? You never said how much."

"Two hundred a week, but after they take out taxes and deductions, it will be more like one fifty." I felt Brenda's legs opening, just enough to allow me to turn my hand, so that I could get a finger up inside her. I guess she was happy with her projected earnings. It could also have been that she was a little horny from all my earlier fumbling around, and wanted to help me get to where we both wanted me to go.

"Emily called last night, and I told her what you said. I didn't hang up right after, because she kept asking me questions. I told her what you said about Bea." My finger was sliding in and out of her very welcoming sheath. She was moving a little too, helping things along. I was a little distracted too.

"Did you answer all her questions?"

"I think so. She isn't happy that you won't let me talk with her again. Before, when you said I could call my father last, did you mean I could call him, and let him know what the lowest previous bid was?"

"Sure, but you have to play fair. We don't want to pay more than we should for the grain. If he can beat, or even meet the lowest bid, we'll let him sell it to us. If you let him know you're interested in helping him, he'll probably feel a lot better about you working for us."

"He already told my mom he was washing his hands of this whole situation. All he cares about now is him and Richard. He hardly even speaks to us anymore. Do you think he'll be nicer to me, if I help him with his business?"

"I don't know. He's your father, you'd know that better than I would."

"I think it would help. He's been worried about that trading thing you've been doing. He thinks you might be replacing all the grain brokers your company uses."

"Brenda, I'm going to make you the person who deals with your father's company for us. That will let him know that the future of his business is pretty much in your hands now. That should give you some leverage at home, with both your parents. Uncle Bunny used to handle things before, but we haven't really had anyone talking to your father since Uncle Bunny died. He sends in bids, and we either give him the sale, or go with another broker. I'm pretty sure Uncle Bunny used to let him know how much to bid. Now you can tell him. He should start doing a lot better again, once he knows how much to bid."

I was working on her pussy the whole time we were talking, trying to see if she could cum while we talked business. Her skirt had ridden up so that Joyce had only to look over to see me finger fucking Brenda's pussy. The whole car had the smell of aroused pussy in it. Suddenly, Brenda put both her hands on top of the hand I had by her crotch, and started cumming. She moved around a lot at first, but then quieted back down. My hand was trapped in both of hers, and I'd stopped moving my finger inside her. I felt her pussy contracting around the finger though. I pulled my finger back out slowly. When I had my hand out of her lap, Brenda adjusted her panties, and then lowered her skirt back down. Her face was all flushed, and I was sure she was at least a little bit embarrassed by what we'd just got done doing.

"On the way home, I'm sitting by the window. Joyce can sit in the middle. I'm not letting you do that to me anymore, unless you do the exact same thing to her too."

"Joyce, lean closer to me, and lick all of Brenda's pussy juices off my finger." I held my finger out, and Joyce did exactly what I had asked her to do. She never even hesitated. She spent a long time licking and sucking my finger in her mouth, then she leaned back across to her side. "Was that good?"

"It's better fresh like this. It tastes sweeter."

"She sucked me last night, Brenda, after you dropped me off. Do you feel better after seeing her lick your juices off my finger?" Brenda just shrugged. I couldn't tell if she felt better, or if she was more nervous and embarrassed, after watching Joyce do that. "You better get used to things like this, both of you. I wasn't kidding about all of you doing things with each other. Both of you are going to know how the other one tastes before we leave work this afternoon. Before I forget Brenda, we're working tomorrow too, because we're all flying up to Omaha with my Dad. We're going, because Joyce needs to meet with some railroad people, and Dad has a couple meetings of his own scheduled, with the salesmen, and with some guy he's trying to buy some property from. You'll meet Virginia, and after, we'll all be going out to eat together."

"Is Virginia another one of your girl friends?" Brenda seemed upset when she asked me that.

"No, Virginia is the president of the Lucas Company. Her father used to own it, before we bought it from him. We need to see her, because she has a problem, and my Dad wants me to find out what it is. He wants us to help her with it, right away, if we possibly can. Normally, Joyce would do it, but she has an important meeting she needs to take care of. We'll talk to Virginia, and then, if we can't solve it for her, we'll let Joyce know what the problem is. After we get back, we'll all try to solve it for Virginia. I won't just be springing a lot of girls on you like that. I had hoped it would just be you, me, Emily, and Joyce, but even if that doesn't look like it's going to work, I won't just spring someone new on you like that."

"I told Emily I was going to do what you asked me to, about Joyce. She wasn't happy with that."

"No, I don't imagine she was. Still, there isn't anything she can offer you that might tempt you to do what she wants. At least, I hope that's the case?"

"I told her that too. Now she thinks you're just punishing her, instead of really trying to get her to be part of this."

"No, I'm not trying to punish her. We both want you, but I can outbid her."

"I just wanted you to know that I've made up my mind."

"I'm glad you did. It will be better for you, once you accept things. Better for me too, because then I'll have more time to plan things to do, things to make us enjoy ourselves more. Right now, I'm spending too much time trying to get this thing of ours organized, so it works out well for all of us."

Once we got to work, one of the first things I did was unlock the bedroom and show everything to Joyce and Brenda. They both liked the big bedroom, but Brenda said we should have put in a kitchen, to make it more like an apartment.

"We aren't going to live here. It's just a place where we can take a little break from work."

"I know, but I'm a really good cook, Kenny. I like cooking, and my mother's been teaching me since I was about eight years old. I could cook for us, and then we wouldn't have to go out for food."

"Really? You can cook?"

"I'm a very good cook. I can cook as good as Gerta can, maybe better. You never ate at our house, but I do a lot of the cooking there. I bake too. Cookies, cakes, breakfast rolls. I can cook almost anything."

I laughed. This was the most animated I'd ever seen Brenda, when she wasn't talking about either money, tennis, or her looks. I was surprised that she had learned a complicated skill like cooking. Surprised, and pleased. I wanted to encourage this too. I went back inside my office, and called maintenance. Steve Lusby answered the phone, and we caught up on things a little before I asked him to put my John on the phone for me.

"John, Kenny Parsons. I was just in my little apartment that you guys set up for me. We can't find the kitchen. I hired a new chef to cook for me, and there's nothing to cook on. I never noticed there wasn't a stove and sink and everything. Can you guys come up here and show me what can be done?"

Ten minutes later, all four of the maintenance guys were standing in my bedroom, looking over building plans and conferring about different possibilities. It turned out there was a room off to the side, between where the bathroom was, and behind the far back wall. There was no connecting door though, and the room was currently being used for something else. They were also arguing about fire codes and ventilation, but, after a few minutes of everyone speaking at once, a way to work around those problems was found.

"We can put in a nice kitchen with everything you'd need, but it will be expensive. More than we can handle without a signed authorization and a written work order."

"How much time after you get all of that? To do the work and get it ready for my little chef here?" I pointed to Brenda, but I didn't need to point her out to them. All four of them had been spending a lot of their time sneaking peeks at her already.

"A month if we do everything by the numbers. Less than a week, if you let us do it our way. It would look and be the same, but it wouldn't be anything we'd want to show to the building inspectors, or to the fire inspectors. It would be perfectly safe though."

"When you said expensive, how much were you talking about? Brenda would want the best equipment, and she needs things fully stocked, ready for her to just start cooking."

"Kenny, can I pick out the appliances and all the cookware? We'd need a big table to eat off of too." Brenda spoke up then, seeming to want to make sure she got what she wanted.

"I'll take her to pick out what she wants this afternoon. I'll get it delivered to the dock, but you guys need to get it up where the kitchen will be, and put it all in place for her. Can you cut in a door, and then show Brenda where the vented things have to go. She'll work off that, and plan how she wants her kitchen to be set up. We'll need an old conference table set up in there, with some comfortable chairs for eating. We'll be in Omaha all day tomorrow, but we'd like to make the placement decisions for everything on Wednesday. Can you get everything we'd need for doing that, ready, for Wednesday morning?"

"We'll still need written authorization, and an approved work order. This is too big to not have that."

"You make out the request form, filling in what you need. I'm authorizing the expense for it now, so don't cut any corners, do it the right way."

"Can you do that? I'm sorry Kenny, but other than the fact we all know you're the owner's son, no one ever told us you were authorized to approve big things."

"No, you're right. Start work on the door, and on clearing out the other room. I'm authorized to do that much, right?" John nodded at me first, then the others followed his lead, nodding too. "Someone write up the work order, and the authorization request for all the work you'll need to do. I'll get it signed tonight, before we leave. I'll buy the appliances, and everything for the kitchen, except for the fixtures and cabinets. You need to write up the work order to include all those things, so all you'll need to do is sign for their delivery, and then inspect them to make sure they aren't damaged." I reached in my pocket and peeled off three hundred dollars, which I handed to John. "Entertainment fund money. I really want this to turn out nice for my chef. You boys will all be invited up for our first big meal too."

After they left, I shut and locked both office doors.

"Hurry up girls. we need to christen that bed before these guys destroy our privacy with that new door." Brenda looked uncertainly at Joyce, but she was already hurrying into the bedroom. "Let's go, Brenda. All this talk about food, and cooking, has gotten me hungry." She still looked undecided, but then she too turned, starting to walk back to the bedroom. I followed behind her, shutting the bedroom door behind me.

I looked at my watch, and it wasn't much past nine o'clock. Too early to call this a nooner, I thought. When I turned to face the bed, Joyce was already sitting on it, naked, her hairy pussy on open display. Brenda was removing her blouse, her shoes already off, and staring intently at Joyce. She still looked worried, but some of the uncertainty was gone. I guess she was right, when she said that she'd made up her mind.

It was funny when all three of us were naked, and no one made any move. Joyce was sitting on the bed, with Brenda and me standing close together, along the side of it. I reached out for Brenda and pulled her in close to me, kissing her. My heart was beating very fast, because I knew this was going to turn out to be one of the defining moments for the three of us, and, maybe, in some ways, for Emily as well. It took me a few minutes to maneuver myself onto the bed, pushing Joyce over towards the side close to the wall. I pulled Brenda along with me as I first sat, and then, laid myself down on the bed. She resisted just a little at first, but after she saw the way I was lying there, she realized my body was completely separating her from where Joyce was. She immediately stopped resisting, and then snuggled her body up close to me.

Once we were all there on the bed, I concentrated all of my attention strictly on Brenda, touching and kissing my way all over her body, until, finally, I had worked my head into position between her legs. Soon I had my tongue busy, licking her in all the ways I remembered she liked the best. Once she got excited, past a certain point, I whispered to her that I was going to have to turn around and kiss Joyce too, so she wouldn't feel like we were just ignoring her.

Joyce was already pretty worked up. It was a matter of a minute or two before I was eating her to two quick orgasms. During the second one, she got my head in a tight scissors grip with her thighs and caused me more than a little bit of concern.

I turned around again, after she had decided to relax her grip, and release me, only to find Brenda pleasuring herself with her fingers. I took over for her, and slid over, so I was positioned on top of her, between her legs. When I had my cock fully seated inside her pussy, I started a slow and steady rocking action on her, lifting up her legs to her favorite clit pressuring position. I let her set the pace, and find just the right tempo for her hip movements, while I just held her ass up, massaging it with both my hands.

It was only a few minutes before Brenda lifted her head up for me to kiss her. We kissed while she was arching towards a second strong orgasm. Too late, I thought about using some kind of protective padding beneath her. She broke our kiss, but licked all over my face. It took me a second before I began to realize what it was she was really doing. She was tasting Joyce's juices on my face. Rather than just stay like I had been, to allow her to quietly come down from her peak, I started moving in and out of her, forcing my cock almost all the way out, before slamming it back in as deep as I could get it.

She started right back up, heading towards yet another orgasm, until I suddenly pulled out of her, leaning back in order to turn her over onto her stomach. When I had her turned over, I lifted her hips up, reinserting myself, doggy style, then I resumed my pumping in and out. It took only a few seconds before Brenda was pushing back against me, urging me to make a deeper, more forceful, penetration.

I obliged her, all the way to the limit of my capacity for fast forward pressure, while still pulling back on her hips, while I drove myself as deeply as I could manage, straight into her. With movements of my head, I signaled to Joyce to move up on the bed, and to position herself directly in front of Brenda's face, her legs spread wide open.

"Brenda, I need you to pay some attention to Joyce now. If you lick her pussy, I'll keep right on fucking you. If you want me to fuck her, while she licks you instead, that's all right with me too."

Brenda never even hesitated, immediately pulling both of Joyce's slender legs closer to her, and then sticking her face right into Joyce's pussy. I watched the expression changing on Joyce's face. I could tell how good a job Brenda was doing by the look on Joyce's face. All the time this was going on, Brenda kept slamming her ass back on my dick. I felt her grip on my cock tightening as she started cumming again. I saw Joyce starting to cum also, and as she started trying to pull away from Brenda, Brenda grabbed her legs again, and pulled her right back.

I splashed a huge load of my cum into Brenda's pussy, having forgotten, in my excitement and anticipation, to put a rubber on my cock. No matter, I was too pleased with how this had turned out, to worry about making that particular mistake. I was young, and, like most horny teens, felt invincible whenever my cock got stiff. I pulled out of Brenda, but she never quit what she was doing to Joyce. I moved away, and slid around Brenda so that Joyce could lick Brenda's juices off my dick. When she finished doing that, I went to the bathroom to take a leak. I was only gone for a couple of minutes, but, when I came back into the bedroom, Brenda was on her back, and she and Joyce were locked in a sixty-nine embrace, with both of them using their tongues, noses and cheeks to stimulate each other.

Seeing this, my dick got some new life, and before much time had passed, I had gotten back on the bed, and had worked myself into a position to fuck Joyce from behind. I saw Brenda looking up at me, each time when I'd pull away, before thrusting back into Joyce. It seemed like my action stimulated Joyce's action on Brenda. She simply stayed where she was, allowing Joyce to eat her. Joyce and I were moving too much at the other end for her to continue to reciprocate.

After we were done, we were all happy to learn that the shower was large enough to accommodate the three of us simultaneously. We were out of the bathroom and dressed when we heard the first sound of someone sawing through the bedroom wall. The three of us left the bedroom, locking the door behind us. From the way we'd left the bed, and from the smell that still hung heavy in the room, I was sure the John's would know what we'd been up to.

Even though it wasn't even eleven o'clock yet, we all left to go find kitchen appliances and to look for pots, pans, dishes and silverware. When I saw the prices they wanted for new appliances and cookware, I returned to the office and called Hans at my house. He gave me the name and phone number of his German restaurant supply friend, the one who had stocked all the kitchen appliances and utensils for Gracerie Cocina. I put Brenda on the phone with him, and she started asking him questions in a language I didn't understand. I think it was Kitchenese. When she was finished, I'd spent thirty two hundred dollars. I got back on the phone and told him where we needed it delivered, and how to fax over an invoice, so we could pay for all our purchases.

There were other things Brenda said she needed, spices, condiments, and things like that. I asked her how much they would cost, and she said she wasn't sure. I gave her three hundred dollars, telling her to buy anything she needed, while also telling her that I would give her more money as she needed it. Brenda seemed very excited as she saw how her new kitchen was taking shape in her mind.

At two thirty, I went to get the new grain order spec sheet from Myra. I told her I'd take care of it, and then I got to my office and called three other brokers that we did business with. The price spread from all three of them was less than half a cent difference per bushel. Two were at the same quote, exactly. They were the lowest bidders.

"Brenda, call your father. We need twelve extra carloads per week, for the next ten weeks. This is our low bid. Tell him you've been put in charge of broker bids, and he just has to match this price, and he'll get the contract."

"He knows I don't know anything about his business. Why do you think he'll just believe me?

"Just call him, ask him if he can make any money selling one hundred twenty extra carloads of new crop delivery corn. Tell him we need an extra twelve carloads a week for the next ten weeks. If he says yes, read him this purchase order number, and tell him we just bought that amount from him. That's all there is to it. Just make sure he knows that you're awarding the contract, and that the decision to act is yours to make. If he says anything, or if he still doesn't believe you, tell him you'll call the other broker who had the same bid as his."

I stayed by my desk to listen to Brenda call him. At the end, Brenda smiled into the phone.

"Thank you Daddy, I'll tell him." She put the phone back in its cradle. "Daddy says thank you for the business, and he also said I was to tell you, he's ordering up the first delivery right away. He said I handled things perfectly, and everything was very clear, and well organized."

"Good, I'm sure your father is going to be paying a lot more attention to what you're saying to him from now on. While we're all alone here, tell me how you thought things went between the three of us, in the bedroom. Are you okay with everything we did together?"

"I don't want to talk about that with you. I did it, isn't that enough for you?"

"Yes, that's enough. I liked it, and I'm sure Joyce did too. I just thought you might want to tell me if it was all right for you or not. I never wanted to do anything that you would really hate."

"Why don't we just let it go, Kenny? We'll see what happens when these situations come up again. I don't like having to talk about those kinds of things with you. I loved what you did to me though. It felt better without the rubber, especially when we did it when you were behind me. I wasn't even thinking about that other stuff then, I just did it."

I was surprised that she had decided to treat it that way. I was sure she was going to be more enthusiastic about it, because she had obviously enjoyed all of it. A lot more than I'd even dared to hope she might.

"I guess we should go see if the maintenance guys have all the paperwork ready that we need to take to my father. You should come with me, so I can explain to him about hiring you."

We went to my father's office, after first picking up the work order request, and the project cost numbers for the job. Myra told me my Dad was free, so Brenda and I walked into his office.

"Hello Brenda. I heard you were joining us. Welcome to the company. Is Kenny treating you all right?"

"Hi, Mr. Parsons. Yes, he's been very nice to me today. Thank you for letting him hire me."

"Dad, it turns out that Brenda is an excellent cook. I'm getting a kitchen built over in the back area behind my office. I need you to look over these work order requests and the project costs and approve them for me. I told maintenance I'd drop them off before we leave here tonight. I also needed to buy a bunch of kitchen equipment, and some other things for cooking, from the same guy we bought the Gracerie stuff from. That was another thirty two hundred dollars. I'm taking care of the food costs and all the spices myself, but I need you to sign for this. They won't do the work just on my own authority."

"They won't? Did you tell them you own a lot of the stock in the company?"

"No. I told them I'd get the papers signed, and the work authorized."

My Dad signed the papers, and then told me to have Myra make copies of everything, before I took it all back down to maintenance. When he was sure I'd heard what he said, he picked up the phone and asked the operator to put him through to the maintenance department.

"John? Good, this is Tom Parsons. I just signed that paperwork for Kenny's new project. I'm just calling to let you know that Kenny can sign for anything around here that I could. You don't need to get any authorization other than his approval. Yes. Thank you. All set, Kenny. Good luck with that kitchen. Make sure you invite me when you've got something good on the menu."

I guess Mama had called to head off anything Dad might have said when I sprung Brenda on him suddenly. Well, that was what I'd hoped would happen.

"Dad, Brenda and I let that corn contract today. There were four bidders, with three of them tied for the lowest bid. We gave it to Walt Connor."

"Now, why doesn't that surprise me? Did you have Brenda call him with the good news?"

"I did. In fact, I've assigned Brenda with the task of handling all of our communications with Walt."

"Excellent. That's good thinking, Kenny. Thank you for taking that chore on, Brenda. Since Bunny died, we haven't really found anyone who has the proper sort of rapport with your father. Try to keep him in line for us. We like doing business with him, but he can be a bit trying at times."

"He seemed very happy when I called him. Happier than he seems when we're together at home."

"That's because you brought him some good news. People usually appreciate good news, and it makes them favorably disposed to the bearer of those good tidings."

"We need to go, Dad. I'll have Myra make copies, and then I'll run these down to John."

On the drive back home. Joyce sat in the middle. She kept her knees and legs raised up as I fingered her pussy. Brenda just watched at first, but then I noticed that she leaned in and started running her fingers across Joyce's chest, playing with her little nipples. I noticed that they were extended, and very visible, even through her bra. A few minutes later, and I felt another hand near mine, and Joyce started lifting her butt up higher. Soon after that, I started feeling another finger moving, but this one was in Joyce's ass. She cried out from the strength of her orgasm.

"Emily always liked it when I did that to her butt too. I don't care for that, but sometimes, if I'm really hot, I like being licked there." Brenda was looking at Joyce when she said that. Joyce was smiling shyly back at her. I wondered which of them was going to be the first to suggest that one of them drive the car the next time we went somewhere.

We dropped Brenda off, telling her she needed to be at our house, by six o'clock, the next morning. She said she'd be there, then she asked me if it would be all right if she called Emily to tell her about her first day at work. I didn't want to inject anything negative into what had been a fine beginning for us, so I told her she could call, but to only talk on the telephone, not to get together with Emily. I also reminded her to remember that she had to get up awfully early, to be able to make it to my house before six.



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Chapter 38A



We had a really animated free for all discussion at the dinner table that night. I was getting hit from all sides at once.

First, Mama was upset because Grace had phoned her, complaining about what I had told her I was planning for Joyce, Brenda and Emily. The main thrust of Mama's complaint was that I needed to stop discussing my personal business with everyone I met.

"Kenny, it worries me sometimes that you don't seem to realize you are creating problem situations where there needn't be any. What you've decided on, as far as your personal relationships, isn't really a proper concern for Grace. She isn't involved in any of those plans. The more people there are who are aware of your activities, the more you open yourself, and your associates, up to public censure."

"Mama, Grace is a part of the family. I was trying to explain my ideas for making some important lifestyle changes."

"Grace now knows things not just about you, Kenny. She knows things about Joyce, Brenda, and Emily. Additionally, now, she thinks she knows something bad about me. Did you tell her that I knew what you were doing?"

"I said you had a good idea about what was going on."

"Do you see how her believing this could change her opinion of me?"

"Mama's right, Kenny. I felt like it was unnecessary for you to discuss our relationships with Grace. It embarrassed Brenda, and it made me a little uncomfortable." Joyce joining in like that, with Mama, had surprised me. She never said a word to me about it, not in all the time since we'd left Gracerie.

"I wanted to get Grace's opinion. Joyce you know I've been a little bit unsure about all of this. I'm trying to feel my way to a place where we'll all be comfortable. This is all very new to me, I don't have it all clear in my own head, and I always try to get other people's opinions, whenever I'm unsure about an action I'm contemplating taking."

"Kenny, your mother and Joyce are right about this. You need to stop and think about what they've both told you. At times, you get yourself into trouble because you insist on pushing forward with an idea before you've had a chance to consider all of it's ramifications. I don't know all the details of what else there is that has your mother getting upset, but I do know you'd be better served, if you considered your plans, from all possible angles, before you tried to implement them."

I listened to what my Dad had just told me. He and I had spoken in the past, about my tendency to want to set a plan in motion first, then refine it as I went along. His way was far different. He liked to have everything laid out neatly before he ever acted. I didn't have the patience yet for that. If I had an idea, I liked to see, right away, if it had any merit. Making adjustments, implementing big changes, or even abandoning an idea, didn't represent a problem for me.

"Dad, remember when you were telling me that you and I approach problems differently, and you said this gave you a lot more options when you had me giving you my take on things?"

"Yes, but I wasn't referring to just any problems. I was talking about having more options for me to consider before arriving at a business plan, or a solution to a problem that was creating a stumbling block. You consistently come up with unique approaches, ones I'd never think of. Some, are simply better than what I had come up with, but most times, I've found myself blending some portion of your thoughts with other ideas of my own. This enhanced the overall plan, by combining everything together, in ways that proved more beneficial to us. Used as a business tool, doing that makes a lot of sense. It doesn't make sense for you to attempt to operate your life by using some trial and error system. There's no advantage to you for doing so."

"This isn't what I'd call operating by trial and error. I already knew what I wanted to have happen. I had concluded that what I'd been doing wasn't ever going to work for me. You brought four companies together, and you made all of them work together, as a single whole. In doing so, you improved each one's profitability through that integration process. Having four profitable units, all working together, helping each other, was a good plan, and it produced a great many benefits for you."

"Are you telling me that you are modeling this plan of yours after what we've done with our acquisitions? People aren't companies, Kenny. You can't treat them the same as you would a business acquisition."

"You said the key to a successful business is it's people. From what I've been able to observe, that's true. I don't see why it shouldn't follow that what works with businesses, should work for individuals. You care about all the divisions, and you worry about making them better, stronger, and more successful. I care about all these girls, and I'm trying to make it so we can all work together, to make things better for each of us. I'm trying to do something different than I've done in the past. Now, I'm attempting to make improvements to my existing personal relationships, to make them work. I'm trying to change them so that they are a success. I don't want to continue settling for a long series of relationship failures."

"Interesting. Do you mind if I ask you how this experiment is working for you?" My father was finally finding common ground that somehow connected business, something he understood and excelled in, and personal life, something he tried to shy away and hide from, whenever he could. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Mama smiling at him when he expressed an interest in my results.

"So far, all I can say with certainty, is that I'm starting to feel better. I was very troubled when Emily and I broke up, because I really felt it shouldn't have been necessary. I didn't know why things always went wrong, or why we fought so much. I began thinking that something I didn't know about was the primary cause of these problems."

"All of this is just about Emily then?"

"It's about all my past and current relationships, in different ways. I've had concerns about the ways all of my past relationships have ended. I blamed Brenda completely for our breaking up. When I thought about what happened though, I could see where I'd contributed to it by my own actions. I'm not saying I was primarily to blame, but I could have handled things differently. I was angry with Shirley for the way she chose to break up with me, after she first found out about her family needing to move. She could have been honest with me, but, instead, she made it seem like it was because I was doing something wrong."

"Are you saying you want to start over with these girls because you now see that you made errors too?"

"No, Joyce told me I should forget about all of them, and just start out all over again, with someone new. The problem with doing that, was that I wouldn't find out why things keep going wrong for me. Instead, and this isn't starting over, I'm going to try to find ways to make relationships work better for me, by using the same people, and finding out what works and what doesn't, with them, and with me."

"Things aren't really going wrong, sweetheart. You're just at an age where this sort of thing happening is a very normal part of growing up. These are all young girls, and you are still a very young man. It's all part of the growing up process, but, for some reason, you've always taken these breakups far too seriously." Mama was trying to help, and I knew that. I thought it was funny that she'd tell me again that I took things too seriously. More than half the reason I'd decided to make changes was because so many people said that same thing to me, that I took these girl problems way too seriously.

"It is serious, to me. I'm not used to things like this happening to me, and I wanted to make it stop happening. That's why I'm making these changes, to find out where I've been going wrong. What I'm trying to do, is set things up so we all have what we need to be happy together. If I can make myself happier by changing things, I think I should do it. The same is true of everyone else. If Emily can make herself happier she should do it. Or Joyce, or Brenda, or anybody else. The only part of my plan that concerns me is that I'm going to need to change these girls too, in order for me to be happy. I've been unwilling to do that in the past. Instead of trying to change things, I've just reacted to whatever went wrong."

"Needing other people is healthy, Kenny. Trying to get them to change is also normal behavior. Why does that seem like it's a problem to you?" Mama seemed concerned about this.

"I need them, but I need them to be the way I want them to be. My problem is that they think they want to be different than I need them to be. It's difficult for two people to always want the same things. When you add a third and a fourth person, it becomes nearly impossible to please any one. I decided that pleasing me was going to be my first priority."

"There's nothing wrong with deciding that either, Kenny. We all must look to caring for ourselves. That's a healthy attitude, and one that is necessary, if you hope to enjoy a good quality of life." I was now able to see that Mama's real concern wasn't what Grace had told her about me talking to her. She was worried that I was having doubts. I wondered if Joyce had spoken to Mama about my doubts. After what had happened at work that morning, and on the car ride home, my doubts had been eased.

"Mama, things are improving since I talked to Grace, and even since I spoke to Joyce about my having doubts. Except for Emily, I'm pretty sure everything is going to work out for me. What I'm doing isn't traditional, and I know that, but it is something I think will make it easier for me. It's sort of like not putting all my eggs into one basket. This is my attempt at gaining that stability you said I needed."

"I'm happy to hear that. The essence of stability is learning to accept having difficulties arise, while maintaining a posture that allows you to be flexible, and to steer yourself away from things that are too dangerous. I've long believed that you would find stability, as you matured, and learned to profit from your various emotional experiences."

"You aren't concerned that I'm changing as a person? That I'm becoming too self serving?"

"Heavens no, Kenny. Why would you ever think that, anyway? I see you beginning to understand an important lesson. A leader needs to surround himself with enough people to get the job accomplished. It doesn't matter if it's business or personal, problems need to be addressed, and then overcome. If what you are doing now is aimed at accomplishing one or both of those goals, then I'm all in favor of it. I know Joyce has also been pleased with your recent change in actions and attitudes. Brenda might not feel that way yet, dear, but I still believe she is someone that you can help, and who could also help you. She needs to be taught to act differently, and to be guided with a firm hand. If today is any indication, she seems to be responding well to whatever it is you're attempting."

"Why do you think I'd want to be a leader, Mama?"

"You already are, Kenny. You already are. Whenever you gather people together to do your bidding, you are exercising your leadership. You need to find ways to make people want to be led by you, to make them happy they've selected you to be their leader."

"Bertie, I'm not so sure you are advising Kenny correctly. It certainly isn't leadership skills he's lacking, or anything in that area which is causing him to worry. It is more a question of his natural preferred orientation. Kenny tends to be a loner, and he needs to become more of a team player." My father smiled over at me as he said this.

"You don't think I'm a good team player?"

"I didn't say that. In fact, I think you are a fine team player, those times when you opt to join a team. The problem, as I see it, is that playing on a team isn't your preferred style. You seem to prefer to go it alone, especially in most personal things. In those areas where you've enjoyed the most success, it was usually from having been a team player. Business, the group homes and fitting in with our family. I'm not saying there weren't problems in the family, especially at the beginning, but we managed to stick together, and we all worked our way through them. When you are acting alone, there isn't any support system in place for you to fall back on. That being the case, you usually act right away, before you've assembled a well thought plan, or reason for doing so."

"Don't you think that what I'm doing now is the same as forming a team?"

"I couldn't say. I don't think I know what it is you are attempting to do. At first blush, it looks like you're putting together a harem." My Dad laughed self consciously, trying to take any sting out of the words he'd just spoken. All eyes were on me. Mama was smiling, Joyce was looking at me, but I couldn't tell what she was thinking. My father waited for me to answer what had really been a question. I wasn't sure how I wanted to answer him. I wasn't sure I even wanted to answer him.

"I don't know what it is now, or what I'm hoping it becomes. I don't think of it as a harem though. I'm trying to incorporate other people's needs into it, along with my own needs, and those of the girls's. Mama has told me that she thinks Joyce is well suited for me, suited both to my temperament, and to my ambitions. Part of what I'm doing is trying to show her that I've listened to her counsel. Joyce and I do get along very well, but we have some areas that need improvement. Emily and I are apart right now, and, perhaps, we won't ever be reconciled. Part of what I'm attempting with her, is to find out if we have enough of a community of interest to make it worthwhile attempting to maintain our relationship. Brenda, well she's the same Brenda. She has this amazing physical attractiveness, and I'm attempting to find some ways to make being with her less problematical for me. I'm trying to neutralize her ability to hurt me. Except for Emily, everything seems to be moving in the direction I'd hoped it might."

"Brenda has spoken to Georgia about some of the difficulties she is having with trying to meet your demands. Georgia asked me to look into this with you. She is concerned that you are liable to injure Brenda, if you continue to insist on having your way." I watched the look of puzzlement on Dad's face when Mama told me about Mrs. Connor, and her concerns.

"Brenda isn't being asked to do anything she hasn't already done on her own. In large part, her value to me lies in her willingness to do what I require of her. If her mother feels too concerned, Brenda and I can easily return to the way things used to be. Brenda was offered a choice, and everything I required from her was clearly spelled out to her, in full detail. She knew what she was agreeing to."

"I heard Kenny discuss all of this with her, Mama. He told Brenda what she needed to agree to. She said she was willing to do what he asked." Joyce was staring over at my father. The more we spoke, the more confused and upset he was becoming.

"What is it you're asking her to do that has Georgia so concerned, Kenny?" My Dad looked at me suspiciously as he asked his question.

"Sexual things, Thomas. Don't concern yourself with the details. Georgia's primary concern is Brenda's reputation. I've already satisfied that particular concern of hers." Mama had noticed Dad's frowning too. I was starting to think we were cutting too fine a line, by skirting around the truth, in answering his questions.

"Emily and I are having a contest to see which of us will win Brenda's favor." My father looked like he'd been slapped.

"You don't mean to say..."

"Yes. We both like her that way. We've both enjoyed her that way. That is another part of my plan. By having Brenda with me, I'm hoping to entice Emily to join with us too."

"This isn't causing you problems, with Brenda, and with Joyce?" My Dad looked over at Joyce. I almost had to laugh at the pleading look on his face. He had been shocked before, when I'd told him that I'd had sex with Joyce, and also when I'd told Mama and him that Joyce had a kinky side to her. I waited, believing that Joyce would jump in and answer the part of the question that concerned her. She sat there, her face flushed, looking down at her plate. Her silence created a vacuum in our discussion.

"It caused me some problems with Brenda, not so much about her doing things with Emily, as with some of the other things I'd insisted she do."

"Thomas, I believe we've both pried into Kenny's private life enough for now. It seems to me that he's been making steady progress towards achieving his plan. Once he has his plan in place, it will be interesting to see if it has any merit. I personally believe it will cause even greater problems than it solves. Harem or not, no one can fault him for not being ambitious. Not even Bunny showed this much audacity."

"Bertie, it wasn't Bunny that this plan reminded me of. Kenny, tell your mother about your new project."

"The kitchen?" He nodded that this was what he meant. "Brenda loves to cook. I just found this out this morning. She claims to be very good at it, that she's been taught by her mother since she was about eight years old. When she first told me this, I decided to build her a kitchen at work, so she could make lunch for the three of us. I'm trying to encourage her to think about more than money and her looks."

"I see. A full kitchen?"

"Yes. Joyce and I have offices over where your father had his office."

"Kenny is in Senior's old office, including all the other rooms as well." Mama smiled. I could tell this pleased her, that I was in her father's old office. I still didn't think of him as my father as well.

"When I showed Joyce and Brenda the back rooms, Brenda wondered why there wasn't a kitchen, so that's what gave me the idea."

"We're spending about ten thousand dollars, just so Kenny will be able to have nice lunches, three times a week, for the next three months." Dad acted amused when he said it, not angry about it at all.

"Thomas, if being there at the office for lunch, gives Joyce or Kenny one good idea, we'll recoup that cost."

"I know that, Bertie. I don't begrudge him the kitchen. I was letting you know who his current activities reminded me of." When he said that, I knew my mother had never told him who I really was to both her and Uncle Bunny. I think I'd just assumed that he had known.

"Getting the car, and putting in the kitchen for Brenda, are both part of what I'm doing to make sure this is a good thing for her. She is finally getting some of the benefits of having money. Plus, she and I have become sex partners again. This was something she wanted to happen as well."

"Things like this never happened when I was a boy."

"Don't be too certain, Thomas. You should go drink a few beers with Hans some night, and ask him if he ever saw anything interesting, back when he drove Bunny around, before he got his own driver's license."

"I meant to me, Bertie. They never happened to me."

"Well, I'm sure you were as responsible for that as anyone else was."

-------

After dinner, Joyce and I retired to her bedroom again. She needed to finish up some things having to do with the trip to Omaha, and I needed to reconcile the building cost statements, for both extension projects. We were inching up closer to our initial projected costs, but there seemed to be a lot of building left to do. I needed to visit each building site, to find out why they were getting ready to exceed our projected costs.

"Joyce, how do you feel about what we did with Brenda today?"

"It was interesting, but the thought was different than the deed. We didn't do anything that a boy couldn't do to us. You've done everything that Brenda did to me. It was exciting because it was different."

"I never played with your butt like she did."

"You could. That was unexpected. I was already pretty hot when she did that. What did you think after, when she said she liked being licked there?"

"I thought she was trying to give you an idea about something she likes to have done to her. So, you weren't that impressed with having Brenda eat you? Is it something you can either take or leave?"

"Kenny, I think I need to explain this carefully. I liked doing all those things, because three of us were there, together. After you left, I still liked it, because my body had become very sensitive and responsive from what had already been done to it. When you came back, and you started fucking me from behind, it made what I was doing with Brenda a lot more exciting and pleasurable. What I'm saying is, with you there, it's something I really like, a lot. Without you there, I'm not so sure I'd like it that much, or at all. Did you ask Brenda about it?"

"She said she did it, and that she didn't really think that much about it while she was doing it. I noticed when you tried to pull away from her, the first time she made you cum, that she pulled you right back, and kept right on eating you. I think she likes it a lot more than she lets on. I also think her liking it will force Emily to make a lot quicker decision. I'm not sure that Brenda will admit to Emily that she really enjoyed herself."

"When we were driving home and you were playing with me, I was surprised when she started feeling me up. You didn't tell her to do that?"

"No. That was all Brenda's idea. I wonder if she was planning on doing something like that after she asked for you to sit in the middle, back when we were driving into work this morning? I'm thinking that she wanted to be really sure I didn't mind her liking to do girl things, before she started letting us see that she likes it."

"You could be right. Are you mad about what I said at dinner, about you talking to Grace?"

"I was just surprised that you didn't say anything to me about it before you said it at the dinner table."

"I was going to, but we never had a chance to talk today, not when Brenda wasn't around us. I shouldn't have said anything, but, when Mama brought it up, I said it without thinking how it was going to sound."

"I wasn't mad at you anyway, just a little bit surprised. We better get to sleep. We need to get up at five, at the latest. You want me to sleep in here, with you, tonight?" Joyce smiled, and nodded that she did. We got undressed and went to bed. Nothing happened, although I did end up with my thumb and forefinger rubbing across her nipples for a few minutes. We woke up at five, but I went into my own room to shower and get dressed.

-------

Brenda showed up a little before six. Joyce drove all of us to the airport in her Lincoln. Brenda and I sat in the back. She leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"Emily said for me to tell you that she wants you to call her. She told me she didn't think you'd really make me go through with it."

"Is that what you told her? That I made you?"

"You did. What else would you call it?"

"I guess you could call it that. I did tell you that you had to eat her. So, is that how you told her it happened, that you didn't have any other choice?"

"I just told her that you took me in the bedroom and when you were doing it to me, you had Joyce put her pussy in my face."

"Did you tell her that you kept on licking her pussy after she tried to get away? Or that you were still doing it after I went to the bathroom?"

"She didn't ask me about how long you made me do it. I didn't tell her about what we did in the car, on the way back home either. Are you going to tell her about that?"

"Probably not. Did she tell you why she wants me to call her?"

"She wants you to ask her to join us again. She knows you're serious now."

"I'm not going to ask her. I've already asked her a bunch of times, and she always refused. If she changed her mind now, she has to call me and ask me if she can come spend some time with us. Did she say anything about if she'd do things with Joyce?"

"No. She knows what you told her though, so she must know that she'd have to do that."

-------

Omaha turned out to be a lot of fun. Virginia's problem turned out to be nothing more than a logistical problem. With the increased sales and production, she couldn't keep up with handling all the output, even using the rail cars that were alongside the building. Brenda and I listened to her describing her immediate needs, which weren't that great. The real problem wasn't her immediate overflow, it was the projected overflow once she needed to go into full production capacity in the very near future. With current storage capacity, she would be swamped, halfway through the second shift. I told her I'd think about it, with Joyce and have a solution for her before the end of the week.

It was only ten thirty when Virginia needed to take care of other business, so Brenda and I excused ourselves from her office. I gave Brenda the tour. She was just starting to realize how big our company really was. To her, everything she was seeing, screamed money to her. I showed her the baking floor, and pointed out all the new machinery that we'd added since acquiring the company. I told her about the vending machine manufacturing company, and about all the new machines they were producing now to allow us to continue with our expansion. She reminded me of Mama, the way her eyes lit up when I talked about how profitable the vending business was turning out to be.

I had borrowed a van from Virginia, since plans had changed about all of us eating together. I was out in the lot where the delivery trucks were usually parked. Looking around, at all the space, I turned back and went back into the building, walking up the stairs, and turning towards the loading area for the delivery vehicles. At that time of day, things were quiet in loading. Product was being brought down from packaging, but only the rail cars were being loaded this early. I asked, and was directed to a delivery loading supervisor.

"Excuse me, I'm Kenny Parsons. Can I ask you some questions?"

"Purchasing is upstairs, third floor. We don't sell from here."

"No, I know where purchasing is. I wanted to ask you about these loading bays, and about how much room you have in the lot when all the delivery vans are parked."

"Who did you say you were?"

"I'm Kenny Parsons. My father owns the company." He looked at me, obviously not believing what I was telling him. Brenda was standing beside me, and he was looking at her too. She didn't say anything, just watched to see what I'd do. "You can call Virginia or Rob, and ask them, if you don't believe me." That seemed to be enough to convince him.

"What about the loading bays?"

"When the delivery vans and trucks are loaded, are all the loading bays still available? I mean do you park vans in front of each bay?"

"Sometimes we just leave the last ones there. It depends. We're getting deliveries in the morning now, and some at night too. We usually leave four bays open for night deliveries, but we could leave them all open if we had to. Is that why you wanted to know about the room left over on the lot?"

"I wondered how much room you had to park trailers? Could you fit in five or six forty foot trailers out there?"

"Now? Probably not."

"Okay, thanks." I turned, and was starting to walk away. I had thought about buying some used trailers and loading them on second shift to create cheap storage for Virginia.

"We could store twenty of those trailers, if only Rob would make a deal with the scrap guy, to sell all that crap he has stored over on the other side of the building."

"You want to come out and show me what you mean?"

The three of us headed out to the stairs leading down near the end of the loading area. We walked another fifty feet to the end of the building and turned right. Sitting in front of me was an area that was at least one hundred feet by one hundred fifty feet, filled with commercial ovens, old vehicles, abandoned vending machines, refrigeration units, desks, cabinets, and assorted rusting junk. I walked up and down the area extending out from the building, and it looked like there was twenty years or so of abandoned junk, just sitting there, taking up space.

"We don't even throw stuff in there anymore. It's too much trouble finding an open area to dump it. I don't know why Rob hates to throw anything away, but he sure does. Get this cleared out, and you'd have all the room you'd need for fifty trailers."

I knew that was an exaggeration, but I also knew we could easily fit in fifteen or twenty, if the area was cleared. I knew we'd bought everything on the premises when we bought Rob Lucas's company. This junk was ours to dispose of. That would be our first problem, getting rid of all the junk.

"Did you say there's someone who wanted to buy some of this for scrap?"

"Lots of guys have come out to dicker with Rob about it. He thinks this junk has more value than what they offered him. He did sell some of the old cars to this one guy, but mostly he doesn't sell anything."

"Do you have a way to get in touch with some of these scrap people?"

"I'd guess they're in the phone book? In the yellow pages, under scrap or recycler's, or salvage. I could look it up for you if you wanted me to?"

"Call up some if you can. Have them come out and make us offers on taking everything away. I don't want them picking and choosing, I want it all gone and out of here. I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"I'm Gary Tremayne. How many do you want me to call?"

"Call all you can find. Tell them we're taking bids, and we're going to do business with someone in the next two or three days. Tell them not to bother coming if the can't have their bid in before Friday."

"Is it all right with you if I run this by Rob first?"

"Sure. Ask him if he remembers any dealer that offered him even a half way decent deal. If there was, call him first."



-------

Chapter 38B



Brenda and I went out and found the van that Virginia had let us borrow, and we headed out for our lunch. I took her to the same steak house I'd taken Emily to. Brenda wasn't as good of an eater as Emily had been, but she enjoyed the small filet she'd ordered. I had the big porterhouse, with extra mushrooms, a baked potato with everything on it, and some bread to dip in the steak juices. They brought some mixed vegetables in a separate little bowl, but I didn't even try those.

"How much is the Lucas Company worth, Kenny?"

"We're not selling. Right now, it's really growing fast, and with the most profitable part of it. We bought it really cheap, but it was starving for capital when we got it. We've added quite a bit to it since we got it. I don't really know, maybe a hundred and fifty million right now. Twice that much in the next two years though, maybe a little more. My Dad is talking about having a hundred thousand vending machines before he's done. A year ago he was talking about needing six thousand machines over three years. Now, we're adding about eight hundred new machines a month, and we're falling behind with demand again."

"Did you think any more about what you're going to do about Emily?"

"I already told you, Brenda. She has to call me. You seem pretty anxious to have her with us. Could it be that you miss those things she does with you?" Brenda looked right at me and smiled. "Emily doesn't know how much you like what she does to you, does she?"

"She sees me cum, so she must know I like cumming. I don't tell her anything like that."

"No, you make it seem like you're only letting her eat you, as a favor to her. I'm surprised that she never figured out that you like it as much as she likes doing it to you."

"I don't like it that much."

"You like it enough. I saw how you were with Joyce. How come you never did that for Emily?"

"I'd never done it when we first started. I did some things with Claudia when I was younger, but not that. I told Emily I wouldn't do her, and she didn't insist. When I went back to that school, a lot of girls were doing it, and, If I wanted to have them lick me, I had to lick them. It wasn't that big of a deal after I did it a few times. I usually don't like doing that too much, but it's different when you were there, doing me too. It wasn't like just doing lesbian stuff, so it didn't seem so important, what I was doing to Joyce, just a part of what we were doing."

"If I did let Emily join our group, you'd have to eat her too."

"I know that. I already told her that you'd make me do it to her too."

"Do you want me to make you do it to her the same way I made you do it to Joyce?"

"Yes, just the same way. Would it be okay if I acted like I didn't want to? If she sees that it doesn't bother me now, she's just going to be mad that I didn't do it to her before."

"Can you tell me why you didn't eat her, after you got back from that school?"

"I'm not sure. I think it was because I knew she really hoped I would. As long as I didn't, she'd still keep hoping, and that seemed like it would be better for me."

"You kept her waiting, just because you thought it might be better for you?"

"It wasn't like I was desperate to lick her. If I'd wanted to do that, I would have. The only times I ever wanted to do that to a girl, was when I got really super hot, like yesterday. After you left Joyce and me alone yesterday, and she started licking the cum out of me, that just made me really hot. I was thinking about the cum you put in her, when we were going home. that's why I started fooling around with her."

"Did you tell her you like to have your ass licked, so she'd do that to you next time?"

"I was just thinking about it because of what I'd done to her. I thought I should tell her I don't like people putting things in me back there. I don't mind being licked though."

"Tell me the truth. Do you think my plan is going to work out well for all of us?"

"I've been thinking about that. I think it works out best for Joyce. She gets the most out of it. If your mother really makes you marry her, then she'll really get the most. What happens to me when you get married?"

"Why does anything have to happen? Joyce has already told me that I can have other girls if I want them. I think there will be people who decide to leave. Probably you and Emily will both decide to leave. If you left on good terms, that would be okay. This isn't about owning anyone, it's about developing and keeping relationships that work. When I say work though, I mostly mean for me. The girls need to be able to find a way to be happy being with me, in the way I'm offering to them. That way might change, but it always needs to be a way that makes me happy, or at least keeps me from being unhappy."

"You mean we can leave for awhile, and do other things?"

"Sure. You're always free to leave the group."

"What about coming back?"

"There's the rub, because I'm planning on a group of a certain size, me, and three girls. Like right now, you're the prettiest, and the one that makes my dick the hardest. Joyce is the one that makes the most sense for me, the one I can work with the best, and who would take the best care of me."

"What about Emily?"

"I don't know. She's the one that I love the most, romantically speaking. I'm not even sure why that is, but I accept that it is. I think she'd be the one most likely to want to leave, if she ever joined us. Having you and Joyce with me would make her leaving easier to take."

"I don't see where that leaves me. You love Emily, and you plan on marrying Joyce. Does that mean you just want to fuck me?"

"No. I want to do that, of course, but I also want to see if we can find a way to be good to and for each other. Like that cooking thing, or playing tennis together. There's also the fact that having you with me will make it a lot easier for me to attract other girls if I ever need them."

"You used to love me. A big part of why I agreed to do this, was because I hoped you would love me again."

"Brenda, what is love to you? Really. When we were kids, and you talked about what you wanted, there was never anything about being loved. It was always the house you would live in, the cars you'd drive, or the shopping you'd do. That kind of love is still very possible with me. I have a whole bank full of that kind of love to spend on you, while you're with me."

"To give to me, or to let me use?"

"I guess that depends on how permanent the love you give to me is. You can move into my house right now, if your parents will let you. I'm very willing to support you. My love is just as permanent as yours is. You don't see Joyce asking these kinds of questions."

"She never grew up expecting things like I have. Same thing with Emily. She doesn't care that much, but I do."

"That's a good thing, because that means that you'll be easier for me to satisfy. We'll live in a nice big house, and you won't even have to clean it. We'll even hire an assistant cook for you, to clean up after you when you're cooking."

"What about if I decide I do want to have children?"

"I think we can manage that. If you have my children though, you have to be willing to really be their mother. I'm not hiring somebody to raise my children."

"I didn't say I was ready yet. I was just asking."

"What about if I get old, and my looks leave?"

"I guess you better make sure that I really care about you for some other things besides your looks. These are the same things every other couple faces, Brenda. Most relationships fail. We need to find a way so that ours doesn't fail. We both have to work on keeping each other satisfied, and happy to be with the other."

"What happens if Joyce and I get into a big fight, or Emily and I? Suppose we get to where we can't stand being around each other?"

"I guess one of you would need to leave then."

"Which one of us though?"

"Whichever one of you couldn't stand it the most, I guess. You're going to find troubler with this plan if you keep looking for it. You should concentrate on what we each could do to make it better. There are already enough things that could go wrong."

"Would you be able to love me at all?"

"I already do, Brenda. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't let you near me again. I love you in a way that makes me want to help good things happen for you. I want to see you happy, but I'm more interested in making sure you don't make me unhappy. Part of that is not doing things to make you unhappy, not if I can help it."

"How are you going to make Emily happy?

"Lots of ways. I'm going to let you continue treating her mean, because she likes when you do that. I'm going to see if I can get Joyce to do the same with her, to see if she likes that too. I think my mistake before was in letting her think I was going to do what she told me to. I treated her too nice before. That isn't what she wanted. The best sex for her is when I'm taking it from her, making her helpless. I'm going to do more of that with her too. Most of the time, I'll treat her like normal, but I'll also need to make sure she knows which one of us is the boss."

"I can't see Joyce being mean to her."

"You don't know Joyce that well then. Joyce can be pretty mean if she wants to be, and she's a lot stronger than she looks. When she gets determined, Emily better not try to resist her. If I tell her to, Joyce will treat Emily worse than you or I would ever treat her."

"I find that impossible to believe, not little Joyce."

"You just keep thinking that then. You'll find out how wrong you are, soon enough. Joyce isn't that big, and she isn't very pretty, and you and Emily both had big head starts on her. Look where she is now, and look where you and Emily are. If you keep underestimating her, she'll make you regret it."

"Are we all going to live in your uncle's house? Will we all have our own rooms, or how will we do that?"

"My Uncle's house is my house. If Emily joins us, we'll probably move there for the summer at least. I think we'll have more problems with Emily's parents than with yours. Joyce and I, we can come and go as we please. If Emily doesn't join us, you can move in with me. My bed's big enough to hold all three of us. The only good thing about Uncle Bunny's house is that you'd have your own kitchen."

"Emily's all ready to join us right now. All you'd need to do is call her and invite her over to your uncle's house."

"I told you why I can't do that. Emily isn't like you or Joyce. She needs to be handled differently. You need to start thinking about those differences, because not everyone wants the same things you do. Emily isn't really hoping I'll call her. At the very most, she's hoping I'll tell you it's okay if she comes over. I'm not even going to do that much though. If she wants to talk to me, she can call me."

"Suppose she decides not to call you?"

"Then you're going to have to be satisfied with just Joyce and me eating your pussy, until Bea gets here. I think she must have gotten in touch with my Aunt Clara by now. I'll call over there tonight, to see if she'll give me Bea's number, or at least her address."

We got back to the company before two o'clock. I gave Virginia the keys to the van back, and she told me her dad needed to see me. I was pretty sure it was about the junk over on the side of the building.

"Hi, Rob. Virginia said you wanted to see me? This is Brenda, my girlfriend." Brenda and I were invited into Rob's office.

"Gary came to see me about the storage area. You don't really want to sell most of that stuff we keep out there. We use it for replacement parts, and most of it, you could never replace."

"Which replacement parts, Rob? Most of that stuff has been sitting outside for years. At least it looks like it has."

"We can't get enough for it to make it worthwhile to sell it. Some of those trucks are forty years old, they're antiques some of them."

"Is there anything out there that has sentimental value for you Rob? Id there is, you're welcome to keep it. All you have to do is cart it off before the scrap guys come to bid for it."

"I gave Gary the number for a friend of mine. He's been trying to buy this stuff for years. He'll probably make all the money back, in the first three months, selling spare parts back to us."

"How much do you suppose he'll offer us for all of it?"

"I don't know exactly. Maybe three thousand, maybe less now. that isn't the point. Now, when something needs a little part, we'll have to either wait for it to get here, or use some substitute that wasn't built for that particular machine. You're throwing away a valuable resource."

"Did Virginia explain that problem she's having? And the even bigger problem she's expecting?"

"She did, but you can't be thinking of expanding on the building. It would cost too much, and it would take too long. I'm not sure they'd even allow us to add on out there."

"I wasn't planning to ask them. I'm thinking of buying a bunch of used tractor trailers, and using them for temporary storage, over along the side of the building. Maybe we can store the loaded delivery vans there instead, and just load the trailers every night, and then pull them forward from the loading bays to park, then load some more trailers too. We can park them until morning, then run them over to the railroad for loading. Any way we do it, all Virginia's storage problems will be solved for at least awhile."

"That might work. Still, I'll bet you'll end up wishing you'd left that machinery right there where I put it."

"I'll do some checking with the mechanics before I move anything. I'll find out what they need from down there."

I already knew, just from looking at the rust and the weather damage, that little, if any, usable parts were out there. I wondered how much of that was just Rob's natural pack rat mentality at work. When i went down and spoke with some of the oven and processing machinery mechanics, none of them could recall going through that junk pile in search of any parts.

As far as Rob's concern about them needing to wait for needed spare parts, they already had a room off the shop that was filled up with spares, and cannibalized working pieces, taken from discarded machinery. Two mechanics complained that half the spare parts being stored were from obsolete machines, and were no longer needed as spares by the company.

I went in for a quick word with Virginia, explaining my plan to her. She was really grinning widely, by the time I was finished, and she promised me she would follow up with Gary about getting all that junk moved off of the property as soon as possible. I told her I'd locate the trailers for her, and see about having them delivered. The company already owned several tractors that could be used to drop off and pick up the trailers.

"That should work well, Kenny. It's a miracle that you could get Dad to agree to throwing anything away."

"He didn't have any choice. We own that junk now. Speaking of junk, two of the maintenance guys told me that the spare parts area if half full of obsolete spares. We should take care of that so there's enough room to store things we really might need someday."

"I'll see to it. Did you see anything else while you were looking around?"

"There are a lot of boats and campers parked over near the front. Is that all our stuff?"

"Dad lets his friends store their boats and campers there. Some of the employees store things there too. A few cars and a couple of boats."

"Virginia, that's valuable space, and we're going to need that stuff off the property. That area alone could hold one of those steel buildings at least fifty by one hundred. that's another five thousand square feet of storage area right there. Find out what we have to do to get a permit to build over there."

"Dad isn't going to be happy. He's been letting his buddies store things over here for years. what can he tell all his friends?"

"Tell them the truth. He sold his company, and the new owners don't want other people's boats and campers stored on their valuable property. Either that, or he can tell them we're building on that land, and there isn't any other free space where he can store their stuff."

Virginia was smiling. I had a good idea why too.

"Virginia, you're the president of this company now. You need to take care of things the way you think is best for the company. If you want to do something like this, something that your dad doesn't want to do, tell him the orders came from Ridgeline. I'll talk to my Dad, and we'll both back you up if he calls or complains. I know how hard it can be to go against your parents wishes. Your father is doing a great job for us in sales and servicing the customers, but those are the only areas where we need to listen to him."

"I'll keep that in mind. If you really mean it, that would make so many things easier for me."

Before we left, I had my Dad go in and tell Virginia that he wanted her to take any action, which, in her opinion, made the company either stronger or more profitable. She came out of her office to see us off, and gave me a nice hug. In the car, heading over to the airport, my father told me that Virginia really liked my solution to her storage problems, and that she asked him to tell me that she was going to be making plenty of new changes, as a direct result of my visit. We stopped at the railroad and picked up Joyce. Her meeting had gone well also, and she had several interesting things to tell us about how we could get even better cooperation from the railroad. All in all, a very eventful trip. I couldn't wait to get Joyce alone, so I could tell her about my conversation with Brenda, and about what Emily was going to do.

We drove straight home from the airport, dropping off my Dad, before the three of us were heading over to Uncle Bunny's house. When we got there, the three of us sat in the living room, and Brenda brought up Emily to Joyce even before I got a chance to say anything.

"We should call her Kenny, from here, and let Brenda talk with her. That way, if she asks to speak with you, you're already right here, where you two can talk. From what Brenda is saying, it sounds like Emily is ready to join us. I don't see any advantage in waiting until Brenda talks to her by herself. This way, if Emily asks her if you're planning on calling her, Brenda can say she doesn't think so, but then, she can tell her that you're right there, with her, and she thinks you'd speak to her if she asked you to."

"I don't want it to look like I'm anxious if Emily joins us or not. Emily won't come, not if she thinks it really matters to me. She's already made that pretty clear."

That was how we finally decided to do things. Brenda would call and speak to Emily. Just to tell her about how things went on the trip. She wouldn't bring up Emily's request to have me call her, unless Emily said something that made Brenda's talking about it a normal part of their conversation.

"Before I call her, I think we should all do something together, just in case she asks about that too." I smiled, then looked over to see how Joyce was reacting to Brenda's statement.

"Kenny?" Joyce didn't give anything away by her expression. She was passing it over for me to decide.

"I'd be worried that Emily might think she was too late for getting something for herself tonight if you told her we'd done something. Why don't you tell her you're making dinner, and that we're going to all be spending the night here later. First, you need to call home and tell your mother you're sleeping at our house, because we all need to go into work real early tomorrow morning. If she asks about clothes, tell her you and Joyce are going to be shopping for new clothes in the morning. Tell her I'm buying you some new clothes."

"Are you really?"

"Of course. Do you think I want you to lie to your own mother?"

"Joyce keeps growing. She's practically busting out of that bra of hers. I think I noticed just a little bit of sag on her left titty this morning." Joyce jumped on me, and then Brenda joined in on her side. I allowed them to pin me to the couch and steal a bunch of kisses from me. "You guys are wasting time here. We still need to find out what Brenda needs to get for making our dinner."

"Did you really want me to make dinner tonight?"

"Hell yes. How do I know if you really can cook or not? I'm spending a lot of money for a new kitchen, and you might be lying about this whole cooking business."

"I really can cook, Kenny, honest. We don't have anything in the refrigerator to cook. There's no food in the house."

I picked up the phone and called Gerta. In a minute, Brenda was on the phone telling her what she needed. Twenty minutes later, Hans stopped by with a box filled up with everything Brenda had asked for. Apparently, we were having a salad, spaghetti in meat sauce, and French bread. Hell, I could probably cook that, just from watching Marie cooking it. Still, i reminded myself, that the dinner wasn't the important thing.

We all went into the kitchen and I watched Brenda pulling out drawers and looking at what she had to work with. It took her about fifteen minutes to get all her ingredients washed and ready. I saw her starting to brown some onions, mushrooms and garlic. She added different oils, and flavor enhancing ingredients before she started doing something else to the ground sirloin that Gerta had sent over. She got out a big pot and started adding things to make a spaghetti sauce with... I tried to follow what she was doing, but she told Joyce and I to leave her alone in the kitchen for a few more minutes while she did her special things to the sauce.

Five minutes later, she came back out to the living room, saying that we'd be eating at seven o'clock. I looked at my watch, and that was an hour and a half away. I was already hungry. When Brenda went over and picked up the telephone receiver, and started dialing, I forgot all about my stomach.

I didn't follow the conversation too well, partly because Brenda was walking all around, and partly because she obviously didn't want me to be able to hear a lot of what she was saying to Emily. They talked on the phone for ten minutes before Brenda hung up. She came back to the sofa to sit with us.

"I'm supposed to ask you if it would be all right if I invite Emily over here, to see me, and to eat with us."

"You didn't call your mother yet."

Brenda got to her feet and walked away, picking up the phone again. This was a short conversation, perhaps three minutes in length.

"She said okay, but I need to come home tomorrow night. My dad and Richard went fishing tonight anyway. Do I call Emily back now?"

"You really have the hots for her, don't you?"

"No. I'm just doing what you asked me to do."

"Come over here. If your pussy isn't soaking wet, I'll let you call her. If it is though, we'll just wait for another day."

"No, that's not fair. I'm wet because I know that we're going to do something tonight. It isn't because of Emily."

"Okay. I can accept that. How about you, Joyce, do you believe her?"

"I don't think so. I believe she's thinking about Emily. I vote that we wait until she isn't so obvious about wanting her." I saw Brenda's face starting to pout.

"No, I think we should have Emily come over for dinner. We can all have a nice meal and see if we get along now. After, when Emily leaves, the three of us can fuck each other, until we all fall asleep together."

"That's being mean. Emily will know what we're going to do. If you send her home, she might decide we really don't want her." Brenda, ever the staunch defender of her friend.

"Well, I know one of us who really wants her. Do you know one of us who really wants her, Joyce?"

"I think Brenda might want her. Do you want Emily, Brenda? Do you want her to do things to that wet pussy of yours?" Joyce had stood up and she moved over close to Brenda. "Grab her for me, Kenny. I want to see how wet she really is. Maybe she's wet enough that she wants her butt licked. Are you hot enough to want someone to lick your butt, Brenda?" Joyce had grabbed both of Brenda's arms, and I moved over and grabbed her by the waist, with one hand, and then reached up under her dress with my other one.

She didn't resist, and her face was getting all red while we held her. Her panties were soaked in front. When I put a finger under her panty leg, she opened her legs to give me better access to her. I touched her slit a little, but I didn't put my finger in her pussy. I played around for a few seconds, before moving my finger down. As soon as she knew where I was heading, she did start to resist us. I put my finger right on her little brown rosebud though and started moving it all around back there. After a few seconds, she stopped her protesting. I kept softly stroking and rubbing at her.

"I think she's hot enough, Joyce. Do you think one of us should lick her?"

"I think you should put a finger in her back there, just like she did to me. If you finger her butt, I'll lick her a little. Just enough so we can both find out if she lied to us about not liking that."

I had already started putting a little pressure on Brenda's sphincter, and had my finger in her, up to the first joint. She wasn't wriggling around, and I wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

"Should I let Joyce lick your pussy or not, Brenda? It might not feel so uncomfortable if I let her lick you." I was moving my finger side to side, and then a little bit in and out, but not putting it in any deeper than the first joint. I kept moving it around, and as I did that, I felt Brenda beginning to relax against me. "Are you going to tell me?"

"If you want her to do that, I can't stop you. You're going to do what you want to anyway."

"She's right, Joyce. It would be cruel for us to do this to her, if she didn't really want it. You better not eat her pussy." I was starting to move my finger around pretty good, and Brenda was tightening and loosening her sphincter around my finger. I waited for her to loosen it, then I pulled it back out of her. "I'm sorry Brenda. You go ahead and make your phone call to Emily. She'll be wondering why it took you so long to call her back. Tell her dinner is at seven."

I got up and went to the bathroom, to wash my hands, Joyce had let go of Brenda's hands and she had gone over to sit back on her end of the couch. Brenda sat where she was, looking like she didn't trust either of us. When I got back from the bathroom, Brenda was still sitting there. She hadn't changed her position since Joyce and I had released her. She didn't look happy.

I started thinking I'd gone too far, had teased her too much, over something she was sensitive about. I sat back down next to her, and she came right into my arms when I reached over to comfort her. We kissed, and that was the first time I realized how turned on she was. In a matter of minutes, she was straddling my lap and pressing her crotch against my hard on. Her kissing was a lot more feverish than usual. I broke our kiss, this time it was me who was gasping for breath.

Brenda got off of me, and now she had a little smile on her face. I knew she was going to attack Joyce, but only an instant before she actually pounced. In less than two seconds, she had Joyce pinned on the couch, with both her hands trapped above her head. She was shinnying forward, moving her hips up higher and higher, towards Joyce's face.

Joyce was trying to wiggle her way out from under Brenda, but having no success with her attempt. When Brenda's knees were at the top of Joyce's head, she released Joyce's hands and reached down to pull her panties to one side.

"Lick it!"

Joyce complied. I had stood up, and was looking at this scene, trying to make sure that Joyce wasn't being hurt. Joyce didn't look hurt to me. She was really going to town on Brenda's pussy, and, Brenda, she really seemed to be enjoying it. I pulled my cock out of my pants and moved down to the end of the couch, trying to see how close I could get my dick to Brenda's face. She saw what I was doing, and leaned forward, to take me in her mouth. It was damn good too, unlike other blow jobs Brenda had given me. She seemed to actually want to suck it now. I would have liked to let Brenda finish, but, in her current position, poor Joyce couldn't breathe. I reluctantly backed away.

"Let Joyce breathe, Brenda."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry Joyce. Is this better?"

Joyce seemed more concerned with finishing what she had started. She must have found an air pocket down there or something. In any event, she wasn't in any distress. Brenda soon started acting like she was distressed though. She started bucking her hips around, and then she started cumming. After about twenty seconds of her grunting and wheezing, moving her hips back and forth, she began squirting out her juices, soaking Joyce's face first, and then the cushion on Uncle Bunny's sofa. There were four separate spurts, because I watched each of them. The second one was the real gusher though, lasting a few seconds, and spraying out with some power. Joyce seemed shocked at first, but she got over it enough to get right back to work. It wasn't long after that before Brenda pulled herself up off of Joyce.

For a long time, none of us said anything. The girls sat where they were, Joyce actually laying where she was, and me, standing near the couch, looking at them both. Then, Joyce jumped up and started trying to wrestle the cloth cover off of the wet cushion. She managed to get it off too, before she and the cushion cover disappeared, heading towards Uncle Bunny's bedroom.

"I should be the one to wash it, Kenny." I looked over at Brenda.

"Who said she's going to wash it? She might be taking it to the bathroom, to wring it dry, over a glass, so she can drink it. I told you she was kinky. I suppose this is another one of those things you don't want me mentioning to Emily?"

Brenda then jumped up from the sofa and headed over to the telephone. I guess she had forgotten that she was supposed to call Emily, to let her know if she could come to eat dinner with us or not.

I headed off to Uncle Bunny's bedroom to see what Joyce was getting up to with that sofa cushion cover. She was in the shower, washing herself and the cover.

"I told Brenda you were probably squeezing it, to get all of her juices off, so you could drink them."

"Did you see what she did to me, Kenny?"

"I guess she didn't like my decision to wait until after dinner."

"Are you going to let them both gang up on me, and make me lick their pussies all the time?"

"I might let them do that, but only if you give me your Lincoln."

Joyce grinned, then stuck her tongue out at me, and closed the sliding door on the shower. I was going to have to remodel the bathroom. We were definitely going to need a much bigger shower, and another two sinks as well.



-------

Chapter 39

We were all standing around in the kitchen, smelling the spaghetti sauce simmering as Brenda tossed the salad, and put the pasta pot on a burner to bring it to a boil. The table was already set for four places. Brenda had taken out two bottles of red wine, from Uncle Bunny's large wooden wine cellar box, and she had found a corkscrew in one of the drawers. She was just starting to heat up the garlic bread, when the door bell rang.

"Get it, Kenny." Brenda looked at me, knowing that I might not agree to do what she was asking.

"She's your guest, Brenda, you have to go let her in." I gave Brenda a steady look, knowing that she was already fully occupied with her cooking. Joyce turned away, going to the front door to let Emily in. A very good compromise, I thought. I hadn't really cared who opened the door, as long as it hadn't been me.

When Joyce returned to the kitchen with Emily, Brenda and I both greeted her warmly. I was trying to act like there was nothing unusual about Emily coming over to join us for dinner. I had decided to play it very low key, like I had no agenda, or anything at all planned, that included Emily.

If we were going to discuss her joining the group, it would be because Emily brought the subject up herself. I'd already told both Joyce and Brenda this. We'd all treat her like we normally would, but none of us would invite her to start discussing her willingness or lack of same to be a part of this thing I was forming. It was a good plan. I knew waiting her out was the right approach.

"Did you come over tonight to tell us you've changed your mind, Emily?"

I spun around and looked at Joyce, hardly able to believe my ears. How could she do that to me? We'd just gotten finished talking about how we were going to handle things. I saw Joyce and Brenda passing looks across at each other, and then Joyce moved across the room, to where Brenda was standing. This left Emily and I standing together on one side, and Joyce and Brenda standing over by the stove.

"I'm not sure that Kenny still wants me to be here with all of you. Do you?"

That put me right on the spot. This was exactly what I had been trying to avoid. I needed to get some time alone for myself, time for me to try to figure out what Joyce was up to. I hadn't planned for having to make things up as I went along. Was she trying to screw things up for me?

By throwing off the timing of everything, and bringing up the subject of Emily joining us first, she had thrown the whole situation I'd planned for, into a state of complete disarray. I had been rehearsing a whole different scenario in my head. Now, I was going to have to start from scratch.

"I need to run over to my house real quick. There's something I forgot that I need to get for tomorrow. Lend me your car keys, Joyce."

"You haven't answered Emily's question, Kenny. Do you still want her to join us, or not?" Joyce had never done anything like this to me before. This was no accident on her part either. It was deliberate. What I couldn't figure out was what it was she wanted to happen by doing things this way.

"Joyce, I'm not sure why you've decided to change everything up like you have, but I'm not going to play whatever game you think you're playing here. I'm not sure what you intended, but, whatever it was, it isn't going to work. Turn off the stove, Brenda. I want all of you to leave my house."

"What did I do? I didn't do anything. Joyce didn't tell me she was going to do this." Brenda seemed upset that I was blaming her as well as Joyce for what Joyce was doing.

"Is that right, Joyce? Is it just you that is screwing things up for me?"

"Why is it screwing things up, Kenny? If you just tell Emily we all want her to join us, this thing will be over and done with. All she wants is for you to invite her again. How hard is that?"

"Suppose I really don't want her to join us now? Now you've embarrassed her in front of her friend. We could have just had a nice dinner, and no one had to get their feelings hurt, but now, thanks to what you've done, you've ruined any chance for that to happen. Why do you think I asked both of you not to bring the subject up tonight? I'm sorry, Emily. I didn't want for this to happen."

"You don't want me to join now?"

"No. I've thought about a lot of things, mostly about the reasons why we can't get along for any length of time. I thought I could make changes in the way I treated you, so that you'd have less reason for wanting us to have fights. Something happened earlier, with Joyce, Brenda and me, something that made me realize that treating you the way I'd need to, just wasn't going to work for me. I'd either need to stop loving you, or else start feeling bad about what I was doing to you. Either way, it couldn't be good for us."

"Brenda said you were just waiting for me to ask you if I could join. She said that was all I had to do."

"She was probably right when she said that, but things got changed. I don't want us being together, not if it has to mean I need to treat you bad."

"I never said I wanted to be treated bad. I don't like you treating me bad. I don't like it when anybody treats me bad. I don't like what you're doing, having three girl friends either, but you aren't giving us any choices about that."

"After tonight, I might wind up to being back to no girl friends again. I thought I could trust you, Joyce."

I looked up, away from Emily, and over to Joyce and Brenda. I realized that I'd spoken the truth to Emily. I hadn't formulated the truth in my conscious brain, not until I'd actually spoken the words to her. Treating someone you love, badly, had to produce conflict inside you, even if you thought you were doing it because it was what they needed. Emily might say she didn't want to be treated badly, but her actions over the three years I'd known her, didn't support her claim.

I turned around and left the kitchen, leaving the three girls behind, realizing that I was going to need to make some major revisions in my plan. It was a twenty minute walk to my house, but I still walked outside, welcoming the chance to be alone with my thoughts. I didn't trust myself, not as far as what I might say to any of them, feeling as I did right then.

I had cut across the open fields, taking the shortcut to my house. The walk had calmed me down somewhat, but that only lasted until I was halfway up my driveway and noticed Joyce's Lincoln and Emily's Cadillac parked up in the circle.

I turned around, retracing my steps back to Uncle Bunny's house. The door was locked, and the alarm had been set when I got there. I checked the kitchen, and the stove and oven was turned off, and the food was either gone, or else it was all put away. I thought about seeing if Brenda had left it all in the fridge, but, instead, I went back out into the living room and secured the front door before heading into one of the guest bedrooms to go to sleep. I figured I would hear if anyone came into the house, and be able to hide before they thought to look for me in a guest bedroom.

I wondered how differently things might have turned out if Brenda hadn't attacked Joyce like she did. Seeing her overpowering Joyce had stuck in my mind. Subconsciously, I think I'd realized right then, that this was not all that different than what I was planning to do to Emily. I'm certain that Joyce had enjoyed being overpowered, and she had enjoyed what Brenda made her do. It wasn't even Emily I was worrying about, it was me. I was worrying about how doing what I was planning would change the way I felt about myself. In the end, I realized I would need to pay too high a price to have Emily. I didn't want to live with all the conditions necessary for us to have a chance at a successful relationship together.

I waited until nine in the morning to walk back home. I hadn't slept that well, keeping one ear open to hearing them, in case they decided to come back, looking for me. When I got home again, the Cadillac was gone, but Joyce's Lincoln was still parked where she'd left it the night before. I went to the kitchen, and asked Gerta to fix me a real big breakfast.

"Where's Hans?"

"He drove your Mama and the girls to Springfield, to go shopping. She told me to tell you that everything was going to be all right."

"All the girls?"

"The three that came here last night and slept in Joyce's room. Joyce, Brenda, and Emily."

"They spent the night together?"

"That's what I said. You should see Joyce's room, and her bed. Girls didn't act like that where I come from. One of them wet the bed too. The mattress is being aired out now. We're just lucky it's Helga and Diane working here today. If it was Edith, or even Jeanine, there would be talk all over town about what happened here."

"You think you know people, Gerta, and then something like this happens. What time did Dad leave? Did he say anything about the girls?"

"He left before seven. No, he didn't say anything in front of me. They all had breakfast together, and he was asking Joyce something about the railroads or something like that, just business. Your Mama was in a good mood, but she always likes to shop. I heard her talking to Dave over at the golf school, telling him he needed to look after things today."

"I don't know what to think now, Gerta. I had this all planned out, and now, nothing turned out like I planned it. If those girls all did stuff together, without me telling them they could, they've forced my hand. I can't let them get away with disobeying me like that."

"I love you, Kenny, but you don't learn too well sometimes. What made you think those girls were going to do only what you said they could?"

"Not Emily, but Brenda and Joyce both promised they wouldn't do that. We had an agreement."

"This agreement, it was one where you were going to be the one who decided things?"

"It was one where I asked them not to do certain things. I wasn't deciding everything."

"Hans and me, we have an agreement just like that. We each get to decide certain things, and it works out good for both of us. This morning, before we found out he'd be gone all day with your Mama and the girls, we decided some things. I gave Hans a list of what he had to get done today, and he decided in what order he'd do them. Then, your Mama comes down, and she decided what Hans and I had decided didn't matter, because she needed him to drive them to Springfield."

"It's not the same."

"Are you sure? Maybe the same thing happened to your girls that happened to Hans this morning. Maybe they had all decided to do what you told them, but your Mama told them to do something different. Who do you think they would listen to then?"

"Why would she do that? She told me she approved of what I was doing."

"Maybe she was worried about how you were doing some part of it. All I know is Joyce called over here five or six times yesterday. In the morning, then in the afternoon, before you left Omaha. She called again, before you called me to get the food for your dinner, and then twice more after that, right before they all came over here."

"So, this whole thing was Joyce and Mama?"

"More your Mama, I think. Joyce does whatever she tells her to do."

"Like you do?" I looked at Gerta. She started smiling at me. I knew she was pleased with my question.

"Exactly like I do."

"Mama wants me to know she was behind what happened last night?"

"Yes, and for you not to worry about it. Today she will lay down the law to those girls, all of them. She likes what you're doing, except for with Emily. She's worried that Emily might spoil everything for you. That's why she had Joyce spoil your plans."

"Did she tell you to tell me that too?"

"No. I'm not sure I agree with her about Emily. Hans and I both like Emily for you. Your mother thinks she's too strong for you to handle now."

"She thinks Emily is too strong? Or Mama thinks she's too strong for me?"

"Emily."

"Emily isn't that strong. She's not as strong as Brenda or Joyce."

"Maybe strong is the wrong word. You can dominate Joyce and Brenda, make them do what you tell them to do. With Emily, your mother is afraid you don't have the will to control her yet, because she isn't so easy to control. She's also afraid you won't attempt to control her, and that would cause you problems."

"Does Mama think I need to dominate every girl I associate with?"

"Someone has to be the dominant one, Kenny. That is the nature of all relationships. There is no such thing as equals, in any two person relationship. It just won't work. Someone needs to break the tie votes. All three of those girls can be equals to you, but each of them will find their place with the other two. Your Mama wants Joyce, then Brenda, and last, Emily."

"That won't work, because of what we'd all have to do to try to keep Emily on the bottom. I disagree about part of what you said. I don't think it matters so much their order. Joyce is first in a lot of things, but Brenda and Emily all have things they can do better than Joyce too. I don't want to dominate Emily. I thought I could, but now I don't think so."

"Your Mama has decided."

"She can just get undecided again. My way might work, or it might not. It probably won't. Her way definitely won't work, because I won't cooperate with her on attempting it. For her way to work, she needs me. I don't need her to try my way. I'm going back to Uncle Bunny's, with a lot of my things. Tell Mama she needs to call me. It would be better if she does this before she does too much more meddling. Tell her to send Brenda back home too. To her house, not mine."

-------

For some reason, I felt better knowing that it was Mama who had interfered in my plans. That didn't excuse Joyce from responsibility for what she had done, but it explained it better for me. Brenda, she was just being Brenda. She never stopped to consider the consequences of her decisions.

One thing hadn't changed for me. I was still determined to take care of my happiness. I had never been fixated on there being only a single path to achieving that goal. I was more than willing to embrace some change. One of the changes I was considering was to allow Emily to be an outside participant in our group. She would still be a part of us, but not necessarily in the group.

If there was going to be a group, Mama would first have to promise to stop meddling. I was going to insist that she let me make my own mistakes with this. She had this idea that she knew what I needed, better than I did myself. I needed to figure out how to change her mind about that. I thought the key to doing that was Joyce. She had used Joyce against me, and I planned on doing the same thing with her. Joyce needed to learn that her primary loyalty had to be to either me or Mama. Right then, I didn't care who she picked, but she wasn't going to be in my group, if her answer to that question wasn't me.

I spent the day moving between the two extension projects, speaking with both contractors about the cost overruns. I ended up approving some cost changes, but, I disapproved more than I allowed. The contractor building the girl's extension got pretty upset and belligerent with me, right up to the point where I told him I'd have my lawyers shut him down so quick that his head would spin off his shoulders.

I knew he'd been trying to screw us with some of the padding he'd been adding to his costs. I told him he'd need to produce receipts for all the materials, and then show where either my mother or I had authorized a single change to his original written bid for the contract. He was seventy five per cent done with the building, and I was still holding forty per cent of our agreed payment for the work. When I left, I warned him that I'd have every inspector checking closely for any sign that he wasn't living up to what he'd promised to build for us.

At the boy's extension, it was more a case of honest cost overruns, and poor contractor oversight of some of his subs. He was attempting to correct his sub problems by billing me for the extra labor costs he had incurred with his own crew, because his subs failed to finish on time. I pointed out the unfairness of this, and we quickly arrived at some compromise plans where I released some money to him to continue to keep everyone paid, but this money would come out of his profit, not be added to my costs. He was happy to find a way to ease his financial situation.

At three, I went over and had a meeting with all the group home parents and Sandy. They were getting closer to the departure time for the first two group homes. They were both heading down to Florida, and one of the relief set of house parents was going with one of the group homes.

I had secured two separate corporate charge cards, for emergency use only. I carefully explained the types of emergencies these were intended to be used for, before handing them over to the parents.

When some of the boys got home, I went with them to watch as they demonstrated their skate board prowess, in the street, in front of one of their houses. I was impressed with the tricks they'd picked up. I quickly found out that it was much harder than it looked to ride a skate board.

I went over to the club to eat dinner at around five thirty. I was thinking about hitting some golf balls while I was there, but I knew I needed to get over to Uncle Bunny's to work on some of the group home accounts. I'd been so busy getting my harem sorted out, that I hadn't been putting in the time to take care of the accounts. I was starting to think of my group as a harem now too.

It was seven thirty before Mama got back from their shopping trip and called me.

"Gerta said I should call you?"

"Yes. This thing you're trying to do, it won't work, Mama. I'm not going for it. If you keep interfering, you're going to have to operate this thing without me."

"Kenny, everything is all fixed. It's all arranged now, just the way you wanted it."

"That's a shame, Mama, because I don't want it that way anymore. Joyce is out. I won't tolerate her disloyalty to me."

"Very well. Have you anything else to tell me?"

"No, that's it. Oh, tell Brenda to get her ass over here. I need somebody to warm up this spaghetti for me."

"Let me get her. You can tell her that yourself."

"Hello?"

"Brenda. I hope you at least ended up with some nice clothes out of this?"

"You wouldn't believe all the nice things your mother bought us, Kenny. Wait until you see us in some of the things."

"I want you to come over here and warm me up some of that spaghetti."

"All three of us?"

"No, just you. Before you say anything, Brenda, listen to me. I don't care what Mama has told you. Her interest in you is only because of me. If you refuse to come over here, by yourself, we're done, finished. You have only this one chance to decide what's best for you. You better not make the wrong choice."

"I'm not coming there alone."

"Put Mama back on the phone."

"She went upstairs. You want to talk to Emily or Joyce?"

"No. Okay, Brenda, I understand what you're all doing. I'm fine with it. I'm going to be leaving early for South Bend I see. There can only be one boss, and it isn't going to be Mama. You tell her that for me."

I stood there, the phone in my hand, and a puzzled expression on my face. I didn't know how they ever expected to win this thing. With Mama, I was the one absolutely necessary ingredient for any successful plan. How could they hope to make it work without me being a part of it?

I went to work on Thursday, and was relieved that Joyce hadn't come in to her office. I waited until right before lunch time to call my Dad.

"Can we go get lunch somewhere, Dad? This thing with Mama has me totally confused. I need your help to try to understand what she's doing."

"Kenny, she made me promise I'd stay out of it. She told me this was strictly between the two of you."

"Okay. Can you tell me what it is she thinks she wants to do?"

"She didn't share her thoughts on that with me. What she said was that you were rebelling, and that I better not get myself caught in the middle of it. Joyce, Brenda and Emily are all still at the house, and Joyce told me she's staying home, to lend her support to your mother in this."

"I'm thinking about going off somewhere to think about things too. Will you be able to manage things without Joyce and me?"

"Oh, I'll manage just fine, Kenny. If you tell me where you're going, I won't share that confidence with your mother."

"I can't decide right now. I might fly out to California to see how Anne is doing, or I might decide to tag along with the kids from the group homes, for their trip to Florida. I might drive to California too. I just don't know yet."

"I'm pretty certain you don't want to head out to California, Kenny. She wouldn't take that any other way than a complete repudiation of her motherhood relationship with you."

"Maybe something like that needs to happen to her. Any other suggestions?"

"You've never visited our companies in Delaware or Virginia. This might be a good time for you to do that. Take the plane if you want. Go shake them up a little. It might be fun for you. I'll even give you full authority to act in my place. All I ask is that you send me complete reports on what you find, and what actions you've decided to take."

"Something like that might be fun for you, Dad. I wouldn't know where to begin, and it's bound to ruffle their feathers. Maybe I'll head out to South Bend. It would give me a chance to see the University, and I could find out where everything was. I'll drive over there, and just spend a few days looking around. I've got all summer. I might decide to take you up on visiting those other companies later on. Right now, I just need some time to myself, to plan on how I can outmaneuver Mama."

"Good luck with that, son. She isn't easy to outmaneuver. It appears to me that she already performed a very successful coup on your harem. You'll need to find a way to ransom them back from her."

"Mama was right, Dad. You don't want to take sides, or get yourself caught in the middle of this."

His words had given me an idea though. If I just left, it would be like was admitting defeat, slinking off somewhere, to lick my wounds, or to pout. I didn't feel at all defeated yet. In fact, I couldn't see how Mama could possibly win. She'd surprised me, but she hadn't really won anything by turning Joyce to do her bidding.

Those girls had no value to Mama, not without me. She had given them a value to me though, especially Joyce. What had started out as simple meddling, had now escalated, to become a battle for control of my immediate future. Mama must have gotten worried about my acting on my plan. She hadn't wanted me being independent, or acting autonomously.

I had tried to get Brenda back away from them, but that had failed. Emily would also fail. I could already be certain of that. Joyce though, that wasn't nearly as certain. It would mean my having to make another visit to Mama's house. If I could somehow separate Joyce and Mama, That would be a huge victory. Those other two wouldn't matter nearly as much to Mama. She would know that I had won a battle if I somehow managed to accomplish that.

I parked in the circle, and went inside. I already had all the clothes I'd need for any trip over at Uncle Bunny's house, but I needed an excuse to go back home again. I could pretend I needed a few more things from my room. Cash for one thing. If I was going to be traveling, I didn't want Mama being able to cut off all my credit card purchases. I had a little over four thousand dollars in cash in my drawer. This was more than enough for the trip I was planning. I grabbed a suitcase, packing a few more clothes into it. You could always use more underwear and socks. I had some casual golf shirts, shorts, and slacks that I might need too.

When I came back down the stairs with my other suitcase, Mama and Joyce were standing just outside the library door.

"Good morning, sweetheart, did you come by for more of your things?"

"Hi, Mama. Yes, just some things I'll need on my trip. Excuse me a minute, won't you? I need to speak to Hans and Gerta before I leave."

I went into the kitchen, telling Gerta that I'd decided to go off traveling for awhile. I thanked her for all the love and support she and Hans had given me, and then I promised I'd get back in touch with her, after I had found myself a place to settle. I went out back to look for Hans, refusing to answer any of Gerta's questions. By the time I'd found Hans and told him the same thing, Gerta had already had a chance to go tell Mama what I'd told her. I had been counting on that.

As soon as I came back out of the kitchen with my bag, Mama asked me where I was going. I told her that I wasn't sure where I'd end up, but that I thought it was time for me to leave the area.

"You needn't leave on my account, Kenny. I bear you no ill will."

"I know that, Mama. I know you were only trying to help. The thing is, we're both too much like our father. There can only be one boss, and here, that's going to be you. I accept that, but I'm just not willing to go back to being an underling to you. I'll go find some other place, a place where I can be my own man, without any interference in my affairs. I'm still planning on forming my own group, but this time I'll only pick people who aren't already loyal to you."

I saw the effect my words had on Joyce and Mama. It was just what I'd wanted and hoped for. There was something like near panic in Joyce's eyes. Mama, for once, she looked stunned by what I'd told her. My saying I was leaving hadn't done that. Telling her I was planning on continuing with my own plan had done that. For Joyce, it was even more stunning news. I was her one constant fixation, much like Dad had been Mama's. With my announcement, she didn't have another fall back option. In her mind, it was either me or no one. I'd just told her it wasn't going to be me.

"You'll take Joyce with you, of course?"

"Which Joyce? You can't possibly mean this one? The one that's decided to be loyal to you? No thank you, I'm not looking for any more infiltrators. I'll just start all over again, with a clean slate, just like Joyce once recommended I do. Goodbye Mama, goodbye Joyce."

I was nearly to the front door before I heard movement behind me. I was out the door, and in my car a minute later. I drove over to Uncle Bunny's house, and waited. It took Joyce twenty minutes to pack all her things, and to load up her Lincoln, for the drive over to my house.

That was quicker than I'd expected, but then, I hadn't anticipated Mama having Hans and Gerta help her carry things down, while Mama stayed up in Joyce's room, helping her pack, and advising her on what she needed to say and do

I answered the door, and allowed a tearful Joyce to enter. I let her tell me all her reasons for obeying Mama's instructions, and listened to all her pleas and promises about never putting Mama's wishes in front of mine again.

"I'm just wondering why I should believe you this time? I trusted you before, and it cost me my whole plan."

"Mama told me you were making a big mistake. I was trying to protect you."

"Do I look like I need your protection? If I do, maybe you should get your skinny little butt right back to Mama. I beat Mama today, Joyce. You do understand that much, right?" She nodded, anxious to agree with whatever I said. "You need to be punished for your disloyalty. I can't just take you back, and let everything go, like it wasn't that important. I need to take away something you will always remember. Something to remind you of what being disloyal to me means."

"Just tell me, Kenny. Whatever you decide, I promise."

"Right now, I just want you to go back to Mama. I'll call you when I've decided what I want to do with you. I'm thinking of having you get your tubes tied, so you can't ever have any babies. I haven't firmly decided on anything yet. It might be something entirely different, but, whatever I decide, it will be something you'll never forget."

I saw by her expression that this was a very devastating possible punishment to her. I knew it would hit home with Mama as well. It would remind her of what her father insisted on with Uncle Bunny and my Dad. I didn't think she could stand the thought of yet another barren marriage.

"Kenny, let me go with you."

"You were with me before, Joyce, but then you left. I want you to go back to Mama's house right now. I don't want you here with me."

After she left, I sat down in the living room. The tension of the past hour had taken a heavy toll on me. I waited until I had calmed down, until my stomach had finally decided not to erupt on me. I picked up the phone and called Brenda.

"Hi, Brenda. I just wanted to call to tell you goodbye."

"Your mother called me already, to tell me you were leaving."

"I didn't know that. I wanted to tell you myself. I'm really going to miss you. Maybe I'm going to miss you the most of everybody."

"I didn't have anything to do with what Joyce did, Kenny. She did that without telling me."

"I know that. Mama told her to do that. She was worried about Emily getting back together with us."

"Where are you going to go?"

"I really don't know. Somewhere so I can start over again. I still have an awful lot of money. I just need to be somewhere to get a fresh start, without any interference. I'm not calling Emily, so you tell her goodbye for me too, okay?"

"You sound sad, Kenny. Don't be sad."

"I'll try not to be. You take care of yourself, Brenda."

I moved all my other packed things out to the car. I debated about calling Grace and Jane or Marie, but I decided I'd better not. All those goodbye's I'd already said, would just have to be enough.

I had all of the account books for the group homes in my car. My trading account had a toll free number I could access from anywhere there was a working telephone.

When I was settled in my car, I pulled carefully out of my driveway. In a month and a half, I'd be eighteen years old. Right then, that didn't seem very important to me. I knew I could drive to South Bend, in a single day if I chose to, but I didn't see any reason for doing that. I had a lot of time to kill before the dust all got settled back down again around Ridgeline.

I wondered what Uncle Bunny would have made of me deciding to take Mama on like I had. He'd have never done it, it wasn't his way. He never wanted the confrontation that taking her on would entail. He could usually finesse his way around things with her. This was a lot better than my Dad usually managed. I had considered doing things Uncle Bunny's way too.

There was simply no way I could put up with being treated like she had treated both of them. She had apparently decided that she needed me to prove my bloodline to her, to show her that I was going to be a worthy successor to her father. To do that, I needed to stand up to her, to beat her in a fight where neither of us could afford to give anything away to the other.

She had the experience, but I had the time, and, despite what she had said to me, I controlled the future of her bloodline.

It couldn't all be about the money. I already had control of enough of it to see me through until I got control of what was being held in trust for me. I didn't need any of Mama's money.

Uncle Bunny's dying must have put a serious kink in whatever plans Mama really had for me.

I left Ridgeline with a geographical destination in mind. My only immediate goal was to spend time away from Mama's influence and control. I had managed to bring myself to make an attempt to break free. If Mama wanted me to come back, she would need to tell me what her real plan was for me.

I knew that my absence would wear on Mama and Joyce. I'd give myself until my birthday to stay away. If nothing happened by then, I really would have to think about permanently moving on, with my life, and with my future plans.



-------

Chapter 40

Indiana proved to be a good place for me to start and end my journey. I ended up spending only three days in South Bend, before deciding it was time to head back home again. I spent a day driving back to Uncle Bunny's house. As soon as I got back, I called Mama.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Hans, it's Kenny. How are you guys doing?"

"All good here. You want to talk with your Mama?"

"Sure. Say hi to Gerta for me. See you, Hans."

"Kenny!"

"Hi Mama. You still taking good care of all my girl friends?"

"When are you coming home?"

"I'm home already, Mama. I got back about an hour ago."

"This is your home, Kenny."

"No, Mama. It's your home. I need to have my own home now."

"Are you enjoying yourself doing this to me, Kenny?"

"I didn't start this, you did. I was trying to do what I thought I needed to do, and you decided to interfere again."

"You were about to make a big mistake. I was just trying to save you from making it."

"I need to go, Mama. I didn't call you just so I'd end up getting mad at you again. I don't know why you decided to do what you did, but I'm sure I won't be coming to see you again until I find that out."

"I think you need to seek some professional help, Kenny. You're starting to sound paranoid."

"I did seek professional help, Mama, while I was in Indiana. Did you know they won't perform vasectomy's on any unmarried male under the age of eighteen? Silly law, I think. I'll wait to call you again, until right before my birthday. I want you to think about how far you want the two of us to take this, Mama."

"Don't you dare threaten me. Knowing what you know of our family history, that's a terrible threat to make."

"I already have plenty of children, Mama. The group homes are more than enough for me. Any more would just be a bother and a distraction to me. I'd need to have a very good reason to change my mind about that."

"You're making an expensive misjudgment, Kenny. I can still make changes to my will."

"I can afford to take that chance, can't I, Mama? Uncle Bunny already made sure of that. I've often wondered why he did that? Have you ever wondered why he changed everything around like he did?"

"Very well. I can see there is no reasoning with you. You have nothing to justify these suspicions of yours."

"I'll call you again on the fifteenth of July, unless I happen upon a state with more liberal laws concerning sterilization. I wonder what the law is down in Old Mexico?"

After I hung up the phone, I wondered if I could follow through with my threat. I was still only operating on my own hunch about this bloodline thing. I knew I could easily be wrong about all of this.

I was out in the back yard, trying to repair a loose hinge on the tool shed, where Uncle Bunny had kept all his gardening equipment. I needed to get a screwdriver from the garage, and doing this made me thing of Shirley, and I began wondering if she had given birth to her baby yet. Since I didn't know her new number, I phoned Emily instead.

"Hi, it's Kenny."

"Kenny, are you back?"

"Just got back today. I was doing something and it made me start thinking about Shirley, and I wondered if she had her baby yet?"

"Not yet, She's not due until the first week of July. Why did you start thinking of her?"

"Mama and I are still engaged in our battle to see whether or not she'll let me run my own affairs. So far, neither of us is budging. I've decided to live at my Uncle Bunny's house until it is decided. I was outside looking at the door to the gardening shed, and I just started thinking of Shirley."

"Joyce told us that you were going to start up another group, without including any of us in it. Have you started doing that yet? Is that why you're asking about Shirley?"

"No, not yet. I'm planning on going to Minnesota, to try to find myself some of those farmer's daughters."

"Have you been doing any fucking since you went away?"

"No, and I don't even miss it. It's the strangest thing too. I was sure I'd be all horny after a few days on the road, but I haven't been."

"You didn't ask me if I have."

"That's right, I didn't."

"Is that because you don't care about what I do?"

"I've got to go. You take care of yourself, Emily."

I called my dad at work a few days later, but he was out. I left a message asking him to call me. Mama called me later that day.

"Did you do anything?"

"How are you, Mama?"

"I got pregnant when I was fifteen. He made me get an abortion. My father always suspected it was Bunny."

"Was he right to suspect him?"

"No."

"Was it Hans?"

"Who it was isn't important."

"Does Gerta know?"

"Bunny and I used to always talk about how he and I would have turned out differently, better than we did, if he hadn't been such a force in our lives, or if my mother had only left him when we were still young. That's what you represented to both of us, Kenny. You're just like us, but without having had him be there to spoil it all for you."

"You think I had it better than you did?"

"Not better, but different. In spite of everything, you grew up more intact, whole. You're able to do so much more than Bunny or I ever could. You never lived under the type of domination we constantly lived under."

"I won't go into all my reasons for knowing it, but you have no way of knowing just how wrong your statement is. All three of us were just dominated for different reasons, and by different people. All three of us were crippled by it. Uncle Bunny was just able to hide his better. Are you ready yet to tell me what you want from me?"

"I don't want anything."

"I want to know. I think you know you're going to have to tell me. If you don't tell me now, it might not matter to you anymore, the next time we speak. I've made an appointment for the nineteenth."

"It was his. My father's. He never believed me when I told him there was no one else."

"I'm sorry. That must have been terrible. It still doesn't tell me what you want though."

"Bunny knew why I tried so hard to put you and Brenda together, but that was when we still thought Brenda was his. Bunny wanted me to stop, after he found out that Brenda wasn't his. He encouraged me to change my will when he changed his. He wanted to leave you to find your own future, without interference from us."

"Did you think I'd just turn over a baby of mine to you?"

"I did at first, when you were so young. Not now. Now it would be enough to just know there was a baby, one that could grow up with all of our resources, and none of our emotional baggage."

"There's still something you're hiding from me."

"I'm not. What more could there possibly be?"

"I don't know. I just know there's something else. I feel it. I need to hang up now, Mama, I'm almost out of patience."

When the line went dead, I knew that whatever it was, Mama couldn't tell me. What I didn't know was if I could accept not knowing. If she could tell me about what her father did to her, what could there be that she wouldn't or couldn't tell me? It had to be something about Uncle Bunny. Perhaps a secret she'd promised him she'd never divulge?

I called Joyce at work the next day. We spoke for only a few minutes, but long enough for both of us to know that things between us were very changed.

"Hi, Joyce."

"Kenny? Mama said she called you yesterday."

"She called, and we had a long talk. I didn't ask her about you, because I wanted to wait and talk to you myself. Have you grown any since I left?"

"I stopped measuring. Have you grown?"

"I don't think so. Did you think about what I told you, about only having one primary loyalty?"

"Yes. I decided I was going to be to be loyal primarily to myself."

"I decided the same thing for myself. So, did you form your own group yet?" Joyce laughed.

"You might call it that. The four X's. We've all decided, we're going to let Shirley join us too. We plan to meet once a week, at Emily's house. We're going to let Brenda cook dinner for us, and then we'll all sit around after, talking about you. Someday, we might decide we want to do things together again, but, for right now, we just decided to talk."

"So, you're keeping my harem together, then?"

"I wouldn't say that. It's more like a therapy group. Brenda is showing us how they used to do group therapy at that school she went to."

"I treated you all so badly that now you think you need some therapy?"

"No, don't take it like that. You treated us just fine. We just wanted to talk about how things with you turned out for all of us."

"Mama told me I should seek professional help. Do you think I'm paranoid?"

"No, not paranoid, but I do think you have some emotional problems. I think all of us do. What's this I heard about college? Are you still going to Notre Dame?"

"No. I already sent them a letter, when I was in Indiana."

"What about the group homes?"

"They seem to all be running pretty well. I've got Frank looking after some things for me, but I still take care of most of what I used to. There's plenty of money in all the group home accounts now. The trading program is still doing very well for me."

"You're changing so many things about your future, Kenny. Did you decide yet on what you're going to do to punish me?"

"No, I've decided I need to do something to punish me instead. Somewhere along the way, I stopped being thankful for what I already had. What I wanted, suddenly started to seem more important to me than it was before. I started confusing my wanting things, with my needing them."

"Mama is going to be hurt by you deciding not to go to college. She's been counting on you going off to school, and then coming back home, for weekends, and vacations."

"I've got to go, Joyce. Give my love to all those other X's."

I spoke to people on the phone. I had specifically told everyone I knew, that I didn't want to have any visitors for awhile. Phone conversations had become the only personal indulgence that I allowed myself. My seclusion in Uncle Bunny's house lasted over the entire summer.

My only visitors, during this time period, were the maids that Gerta sent over, and the delivery people that brought me my food, usually twice a day. I sat at home, serving my penance, waiting for that expected call from Mama.

I had decided not to shave myself. or even to get my hair cut. Since I had nowhere I wanted to go, and no one I really needed to see, it wouldn't matter that much to anyone how I looked.

I had these startling moments of perfect clarity, periodically, over that summer. Moments when I realized that my erratic behavior had already passed from being merely strange, to the point where it had drifted into the completely bizarre category. I knew my behavior was lodged somewhere firmly inside the category of serious mental illness. I recognized all this, during my rational periods, but I seemed strangely powerless to prevent it

Each morning I'd get up and take care of all the group home business. I was able to concentrate, and to do what I needed to, even at the worst point of this troubled period.

I also got increasingly more active and involved in my grain trading, often initiating and liquidating positions over the phone with a pit trader. I used every advantage I could find, to take the best possible advantage of the ebb and flow I sensed from the active market. My trading results were constantly improving all through this period, as I had started to understand the pulse of the trading pits. If I started out each morning, holding few, if any, positions, I could trade in a more aggressive manner, until I reached a sold or bought threshhold that I'd set for myself. Once I reached that point, I'd wait, either unwinding when the price movement became favorable, or brokering the grain to my Dad's company.

As my confidence grew, I started raising my threshholds, and putting a larger percentage of my available capital into the trading account. I didn't start exceeding my set limits, it was more a case of having proven the system worked, then increasing my positions, to take full advantage of the profitable opportunities I could now see. Most of my trading took place well within the capacity of our company's immediate need for those grains. Those few times it became necessary for me to actually deliver, I always made sure the company suffered no financial loss from the delivery prices I set.

In August, both our new group home extensions opened, and they were quickly filled to full operating capacity. Word of our group homes had spread throughout the State social services community. For long term placements, we had become, far and away, the preferred provider.

As we had with Sandy, it became necessary to compel our two new executive directors to stay within the placement guidelines that had been agreed to and set out.

It seemed like all our placement people were always anxious to make just one or two exceptions for this special child or that other one who just couldn't quite be made to fit.

This was especially true for the director of the girl's extension. In the first month, she signed intake papers for three girls that didn't even begin to qualify with our home's placement criteria.

Joyce made her return the three children, warning her, in no uncertain terms that if there was ever a fourth placement deviation, that the replacement director would be the one taking that child back to social services.

Joyce, Mama, and Emily had decided on selecting only orphaned girls, between the ages of eight and ten for initial placement in our first girl's extension. Emily was correct, there were plenty of orphaned girls to choose from.

When I didn't show up for either of the group home openings, Mama decided to call me once again. Gerta must have been getting reports about my long hair and scruffy beard. My appearance had started suffering by then.

"Kenny, we're all getting worried about you. Staying locked inside that house isn't healthy for you. You need to get out more. You'll make yourself ill if you don't."

"I'm still waiting for you to tell me what you want from me, Mama. I'm not coming out until you do."

"I've told you all I can. I have nothing more to add to what I've already said. I promise not to ask anything more of you, if you'll just come out of that house, and start living normally again."

"What about all your meddling and interfering? Do you promise not to intervene in my affairs again?" I waited. Mama was searching for a way to deny she'd make further interference, without actually having to commit to it. "You can comment, to me, in private, Mama, and tell me your opinions, but you may not take any action to change any course of personal events that I've chosen to set in motion."

"You wouldn't listen."

"I'd listen. I might not change what I'm doing, but I would listen to you."

"What of Joyce?"

"Tell me what you think, and I'll listen to what you say."

"Marry her."

"I'm not ready to marry anyone. I have problems with Joyce being wife material. Her siding with you that time, has created even more new issues for me. I'd need to have absolute faith and trust in any woman I'd ever marry."

"If you allow her to get away from you, Kenny, you'll both suffer for your having done so. She is almost the perfect girl for you."

"See, I did listen? Now, I want your solemn promise that you are through interfering in any facet of my personal life."

"If I refuse to promise you that?"

"Then I won't be coming over for one of Gerta's dinners tonight, and I won't be trying to seduce Joyce after dinner either. I'm not sure how much longer I can withstand the forces that I've arrayed against myself."

"Very well, but I have another condition to impose on you first."

"I'll listen."

"Your father and I both want you to go to college. A good education is crucial for gaining a sound understanding of economics, or for having any meaningful success in business."

"I listened. It might be something I'll choose to do in the future. For right now though, I have other matters that are more immediate to me. It will take me at least three years to open up and absorb the next six modular extensions. I also need to find a more stable and viable personal life for myself. That will take a lot of my time and attention. I will promise, after I have accomplished those two goals, I will consider going to college."

"You want to know what I want? I want another Bunny."

"Funny you should mention that. I've thought about that also. Malcolm Chalmers Parsons, Bunny Parsons, it has a certain flair that appeals to me. It almost has to follow then, that Roberta Chalmers Parsons, 'Little Bertie', is a name that wouldn't find too much disfavor with you? I see a definite current running through this discussion."

"Only if you should have twins, Kenny, and only if they happen to be a boy and a girl."

"No twins, means no Bunny and Bertie?"

"Yes, it would have to be twins."

"I can agree to doing that for you, should the opportunity present itself."

"Under those circumstances, and with that understanding, I can now agree to your terms as well."

"Tell Gerta to cook something good. Tell Joyce that I forgive her."

-------

I had gone out and gotten myself a professional shave and a nice haircut. I dressed up for dinner too, although my clothing fit too loosely on my frame. I showed up at the house at six thirty, deciding to just walk in, rather than ring the door bell. I saw Joyce and Brenda standing together as soon as I walked in. I turned, and saw Mama and my father coming out of the library, drinks in their hands, and smiles on their faces.

"Kenny, dear. Welcome home."

"Thank you, Mama. It's good to be here. Hi Dad, hi Joyce and Brenda." I walked over and gave Mama a kiss, and then stood still long enough to allow her to give me a big hug. Dad and I shook hands. Brenda and Joyce came over too, so I kissed each of them in turn.

"Kenny, Joyce called me and told me you were coming here. I just sort of invited myself over, because I wanted to see you again. I wanted to tell you I was sorry about not coming to your house when you asked me to. It was just that we had all agreed that we'd all have to go together."

"Thank you, Brenda. I wasn't mad at you. I never did get to find out if you can cook though. Speaking of cooks, I need to go say hi to Gerta and Hans. I hope you're staying for dinner, Brenda?"

"You mom invited me, but I wasn't sure you'd want me here tonight."

"Why not? You can sit next to me, and we'll fool around like we used to, under the table."

I left her there smiling, and went into the kitchen. I got another big hug from Gerta, and then she bawled me out because she said I was too skinny. I told her I planned on gaining weight at dinner, and that pleased her. She told me Hans was running an errand, but told me she'd send him in to see me and say hello as soon as he got back.

Dinner was great. Dad and I talked about how the business was doing, Brenda and I took turns playing footsie under the table, and Mama and Joyce just sat there, quietly smiling at all of us.

"So, Joyce, do twins run in your family?" She looked confused when I asked her that without any prior conversation with her.

"No. My mother's aunt has a daughter who had a set of triplets once, but one of them was born dead, so I guess the other two were twins."

"I think they stay triplets even if one of them is stillborn, dear." Mama was probably right.

"How about you, Brenda, any twins in your family tree?"

"No. Why did you ask us that?"

"Mama and I were talking about twins today, that's all. What do you have planned for after dinner, Joyce?"

"I don't know. I really hadn't thought about it. I usually try to get caught up on my reading, like your dad does. I've got some files on three of the new girls. I need to check to make sure everything's in them. Did you need me to do something?"

"There is something I need help with, over at my house. I could do it myself, but it would be better if I had some help with it."

"I'll help, Kenny." I looked over at Brenda and smiled. Her hand had slipped over into my lap, and she was giving my dick some really friendly squeezes. I reached down and removed her hand.

"This is something only Joyce can help me with tonight, although I really do appreciate your very generous offer."

"Maybe we could both help you? We used to both help you before."

"Maybe Joyce doesn't want any help?" I looked over at her when I said it. Joyce had her face staring at her empty plate. "Would you like Brenda to go with us to keep you company?"

"Not tonight Brenda." Joyce looked up and across the table at both of us. "Kenny and I need to talk in private tonight." Brenda pouted, but she didn't insist. Right after dinner was over, Brenda thanked everyone, then told Joyce she'd see her at work in the morning. Joyce had never mentioned that Brenda was still working for the company. Her school had to be starting back up pretty soon.

I went back to the kitchen and thanked Gerta for her efforts with dinner, and we were talking together about my weight, when Hans came in through the back door, carrying a big box filled with food, that he hurried to put on the table.

"Kenny, it's so good to see you again. Gerta said you were coming tonight, but then she said I needed to go get this meat and cheese for her too. I'm glad to see you. Sit, tell me what you've been doing. Do you have any new girl friends?"

"I haven't been doing much, just the usual. No new girl friends, and no old ones either. I guess it's true what they say about how the older you get, the less girls find you attractive. Except for you of course, Hans. Unfortunately, I don't appear to be an exception to that rule." Hans had a wide grin.

"Tonight though, it's going to be different, no? Gerta told me that you and Joyce, you're going to make up?"

"Well, we're going to talk. We'll have to see about more than talking. She might just want to yell at me."

I spent five minutes with Hans, listening as he told me about how well the golf academy was doing, and how nice everything out there was looking now.

When I excused myself, and went out to join my parents and Joyce in the library, I noticed that Mama was looking a bit miffed about something.

"Is there something troubling you, Mama?"

"No, dear. Joyce and I were just having a discussion. Nothing for you to worry about."

"I see. Is it possible that you and Joyce have different ideas about what might be on tonight's agenda?"

"Kenny, can we just go? I really want to talk to you." Joyce was angry. She didn't get angry that often. I wasn't sure if it was me or Mama that she was angry with.

"We can just go upstairs and talk if that would be easier, Joyce?"

"I don't want to talk here. Can we just go, please?"

We decided to go to my house in separate cars. Joyce decided, and I didn't say anything. Maybe I had assumed too much with her. I'd have to tell her that I really didn't have any expectations. I was fine with our just talking.

I pulled my car into the garage while Joyce parked in front of the front door. I went in through the garage and disarmed the alarm system, than ran around to open the front door for Joyce, but she had used a key she had, opening the door for herself.

"You and Mama can't just make all my decisions for me, Kenny. I'm not some possession that you can decide what I'm going to do."

"Joyce, calm down. I didn't make any decisions for you. I may have made comments too lightly, but I'm willing to listen to what you want to tell me."

"Didn't you tell Mama that you'd fuck me if she'd agree to quit meddling in your life?"

"No, I did not. We spoke of many things concerning all her meddling. At one point in our discussion, she asked me what would happen if she didn't agree to stop interfering. I told her I wouldn't be coming over there for dinner tonight, and that meant I wouldn't have an opportunity to try and seduce you. She also asked me to marry you, but that isn't anything that's earth shattering news either."

"Do you just assume that I'm willing to let you seduce me?"

"I guess I do, Joyce, and with pretty good reason for me to do so. I'm not sure I understand why you're so angry about any of this. I said I'd try and seduce you, so what? Do you want to fuck me, or don't you?"

"It isn't as simple as that. And, if that's how you're going to treat it, then, no, I guess I don't."

"Fine. I'm glad that's out of the way. Do you want to sit and watch some television?"

"That's it? I've been waiting all summer for you, and you ask me like that?"

"From what Gerta told me, you didn't wait two hours for me. You think she didn't tell me about the three of you that night up in your room. They had to take your mattress out and air and dry it. We should make Brenda carry a pan around with her when she's in bed with any of us."

"That's not funny. Besides, I only meant other guys."

"One of the things I liked most about you before, Joyce, was your anxiousness to try and please me. This thing here, it isn't pleasing me. Why don't we change the subject to one that doesn't end up pissing the both of us off? How many of the girls are here in placement?"

"I still want to talk about fucking."

"I'm done talking about it. You had your chance. Now I know why you were so anxious to send Brenda home. She wouldn't have told me no. She was all over me tonight."

"It's not that late, you can still call her if you want to."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Then you could run crying to Mama about how Kenny likes Brenda better than you."

"You do."

"Really? Why don't you go ask Brenda how many times I've called her since the night you turned on me? You know what she'd tell you? None, zero, nada. How many calls did I make to you since then? At least twenty."

"Twelve, and most of them were to discuss group home business."

"I'm sure it was a lot more than twelve. I call you four or five times a week, at least."

"Twelve, usually on a Tuesday, and we talk for three or four minutes each time."

"Okay, for the sake of not arguing about it, let's say it was twelve times. That's still a whole lot more than zero. I called Emily once, Shirley zero. The only people I called more than you was Frank and Gerta."

"Did you ask either of them if they wanted to fuck you?"

"Not yet, but I might ask Gerta if you keep on acting like such a primadonna."

"Go ahead and ask her. You think any woman is supposed to just lay down and spread her legs, whenever you happen to be in the mood for her."

"I'm not sure what's in those pills and shots they're giving you now, but you might want to consider not taking them anymore. They're changing more than just your body, Joyce."

"Speaking of which, I noticed you spent most of your time tonight looking at Brenda. You must have complimented her about ten times tonight. Plus, you kissed her, before you kissed me."

"I let her rub my dick under the table too, better not forget to add that in too."

"Do you think I won't count that too? This is just what Mama and I were arguing about when you were in the kitchen. You always think of me first when it comes to something you need for business or for the group homes. You might also call me, whenever you have something you're working on that has you stumped. When it comes to the other stuff though, it's either Brenda or Emily that you go mooning after."

"I called Emily once, to ask if Shirley had her baby yet, the day I got back. I haven't seen or spoken with Brenda before tonight. This whole jealousy thing, or whatever it is, is very unattractive to me."

"I'm supposed to be grateful that you haven't had a different girl over here in your bed every night?"

"Go home, Joyce. You're really starting to get on my nerves with all this carping and complaining."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Hell yes. You think I brought you over here so you could tell me all the things that are wrong with me? I wanted to relax with my friend."

"That's all I am to you, a friend."

"Yes, that's all you are. What more is there?"

"You don't love me."

"You're wrong, Joyce. But, that isn't you're real problem anyway, is it? The real problem is I don't love you only. I told you a long time ago this would happen, and you said it wouldn't."

"I know you did. I just hate knowing that those other girls are all prettier than me."

"They hate knowing that you're much closer to me, in ways they could never be. It isn't a contest, Joyce. None of you have everything I need, but you come the closest of all of them. Why can't that be enough for you? It used to be."

"You really are going to keep after this group thing of yours?"

"Absolutely. I always said I was. You don't have to participate. I told Mama that you could have a normal life, and still be friends with me. Any of you can. This whole sex thing doesn't have to be a part of it. That was just some ego thing I went through before."

"You won't have sex with the other girls?"

"No, that isn't what I said. I'll have sex with any of them that want to, as long as they aren't having sex with other guys. I don't care about any girls they do things with."

"Nothing is changed then. You'll still be the same as you were before."

"I've changed. I can't take many more times of what happened before. I can't take any more times of what you did to me before. That's why I told you to decide who you were most loyal to, besides yourself. This thing with Mama, we're just getting finished with, you don't know how hard that was for me. I almost didn't come back from it. It changed a lot of my hopes and ambitions. I don't know if I'd even survive if it happens again. I get by right now, but not as well as I did before. Each time, it takes more out of me, and makes it harder for me to keep going."

"That's another thing, suppose you get like this again, and you decide to push everyone away from you like you have this time?"

"I think about that too. I was ready to let Emily go before, I even expected to do it. I could have let any one of you go, if I still had the other two. I just didn't count on what happened, where I lost all three of you, and it was because of Mama."

"You don't sound very optimistic."

"I'm not. Today I reached out to Mama, to get her to do what I needed her to do. I gave her some of what she wanted, but the main reason she agreed wasn't to get me to come eat with her, or to have sex with you. She knows how close I came this time. She saw me the other times, when I had these same kind of problems. She knows it isn't just me wanting. It's what I need to try to protect how ever much of me is still left."

"How much is that?"

"A lot less than there was before. Right now, it wouldn't take much to send me right back into hiding. I don't know if it's even going to get better. Going out again this time was very hard for me, and it took me almost the whole summer to even get that far."

"Shouldn't you go to a doctor, a psychiatrist?"

"It didn't help Mama. The kind of things that help aren't things the doctors can assist you with. I don't have good mental balance. It doesn't take as much to push me off balance as it would for someone else."

"This seems like something where you wouldn't want all the complications of having three girlfriends."

"You're right. I'd prefer only one, but I'll never find one that has everything I need."

"That's just because you want everything."

"It doesn't seem that way to me, but, maybe you're right. Maybe I should stay in the house and just do what I've been doing. It works for me right now. It's a lot more comfortable and safer too. I don't need perfection, Joyce. I'm used to living with a lot less than that."

"I just don't know if I can go back to the old way, Kenny."

"Well, we can't tonight anyway. I'm too tired now. I need to go to sleep. I'm glad we talked, Joyce. I'm glad Mama and I made a deal too. I'll try to call you on a different day than Tuesday."

I saw Joyce looking at me, and realizing that I was serious about being so tired. She helped me get up, then walked with me back to my bedroom. She said she'd help me get undressed, but I told her I was already too tired. I'd sleep a little, then get undressed, after I felt stronger.

When I woke up, I was already undressed, and Joyce was gone. It took me another week to build up my reserves, and to start calling out again. I called Mama first, and then I called Joyce.

"Kenny, it's Tuesday."

"Okay."

"You said you weren't going to call me on Tuesdays anymore."

"I forgot."

"That's okay. Everyone wants to know when you're going to invite the four X's over to your house for our meetings."

"These are the ones where you eat, and then sit around talking about me?"

"That's what we usually do."

"Then, I guess my answer is never."

"Shirley will bring Derek if you invite us." I figured Derek must be her new boyfriend's name. I was happy she was dating, but I didn't particularly want to meet another of her boyfriends, Clay was enough for one lifetime. "Derek is her little boy, although he sure isn't little. He was almost twenty nine inches long at birth. He weighed over ten pounds."

"That's okay. You can send me a picture of them."

"Are you feeling better?"

"I feel good, I'm just not very full of energy. I get tired out quick when I get nervous, excited, or emotional about things. I need to take it easy for awhile, after any of that happens to me."

"I told the girls some of what you told me. The part about you still wanting to form another group."

"Did they all laugh?"

"Nobody laughed, except when Brenda called out that she wanted to be first. I think everyone wants to meet with you and talk like we did. Emily suggested we all do it together, so nobody could tell lies."

"What kind of lies?"

"I don't know. Emily was the one who said it. You have to ask her what she meant."

"I'll have to think about it, and call you when I've made up my mind."

I got real busy for awhile, trading futures and taking care of some things that happened with the group homes. I went over to Mama's house and had lunch a couple times with Gerta, when nobody else was around. Eating Gerta's cooking and listening to her telling me everything that was happening, was relaxing for me.

It was Gerta that suggested I let Hans take me out for drives in the limo. She said I could drive by the new group homes, and not have to get out or anything. The first time we did it, I checked the ashtray, and there were three packets of rubbers in there. It made me laugh. Hans had a one track mind about me.

We drove by both the new extensions. I saw a group of little girls playing on the front yard of one of the houses. At the new boy's homes, I didn't see anyone outside. I had Hans take me by Frank's office, and told him to wait outside for me. I went inside, and spent five minutes talking to Frank. I hadn't actually seen him for months. He even commented on that. I think Mama might have told him that I was ill.

I told him I wanted to set up a charge card account for Brenda. One that was tied into one of my personal trust accounts, but have it be limited to no more than five hundred dollars in a month. I knew Brenda would enjoy having her own charge card.

Next, I had Hans drive by Shirley's house. I had planned to stop by and take a look at her baby, but, after we got there, I decided to put it off for another day.

Back home, I felt good about my little adventure. I picked up the phone and called Joyce.

"Kenny, do you know what day this is?"

"Tuesday?"

"Friday. You never call me on a Friday."

"You know something Joyce, you're just never satisfied. I was going to tell you about this trip I just took, but now, I don't think I will."

"You went out again?"

"I go out a lot now. I had lunch with Gerta a few days ago."

"Was that when she made you the lasagna?"

"Yes, how'd you know?"

"That was two weeks ago, maybe more."

"Well, do you want me to tell you about my trip or not?"

"Yes, please tell me."

"We were out driving around, and decided to stop by and visit the new group homes."

"Who is we?"

"Hans and I. So, after we were done with that, I went over to Frank's and took care of a few personal and business things. I went over to Shirley's to see her new son."

"You saw Derek?"

"No, beause I realized how late it was getting, so I had Hans drive me home. I figured Shirley might be in school anyway."

"Kenny, can I ask you to do me a favor?"

"Sure, Joyce. I'll do it if I can. What is it?"

"I want you to promise me that the next three times you fuck a girl, it will be me."

"I don't think I can promise you that, Joyce. Suppose one of the others calls me or comes over? It wouldn't be fair if I had to tell them no, and you weren't even going to come over that day. Why did you decide to ask me that?"

"Because as slow as you're moving now, you probably will only have one or two fucks left for your lifetime. If I got you to promise me your next three, that would be like a whole lifetime of fidelity."

"Hans has a lot more faith in me than you do, and he's known me longer."

"Sure, he remembers the old Kenny. Three fucks for him would be like an hour's worth. You're the new Kenny, it isn't the same."

"Shows how much you know. I'm thinking of calling someone and asking her to come over and fuck me, as soon as I get off the phone with you."

"You can be such an ass hole, Kenny. You can stop calling me too." I smiled as I listened to the broken connection. I dialed her right back.

"You want to come over here and fuck me tonight, Joyce?" She hung up on me again, but I called up Gerta and asked her to make me a nice relish tray, and some of those little party sandwiches I liked. She said it would take her an hour or so. I told her there was no hurry.

Half an hour later, Joyce opened my front door and came looking for me.

"Were you always planning on calling me back, or did you decide to do it after I hung up on you?"

"Joyce, have a little faith in yourself. It was always going to be you. We can't start fucking yet though. Hans is supposed to come by with something for us to eat. I don't want him carrying tales back to Gerta and Mama."

"I didn't say that was why I came here."

"You're the first name on my list, Joyce, but you aren't the only name. Somebody is going to get fucked here tonight, you can be sure of that."

"I'm not on the pill anymore."

"I've got rubbers."

"Mama told me I should take a chance on you getting me pregnant."

"When did she tell you that?"

"Before the summer. Before we had that problem."

"Where are you at right now in your cycle?"

"I'm close to ovulating. Maybe today or tomorrow. I can feel it."

"How do you feel now about me getting you pregnant?"

"I'm a little scared. I'm excited about thinking you could make me pregnant."

"Does that mean you did come here to be fucked?"

"When is Hans going to get here?"

"Soon. Why don't you come over here and sit by me? I can get you nice and ready while we wait for him."

"I'm ready right now." She came over and flopped down of the sofa next to me. I lifted one of her legs up, and ran my hand over it. Her legs were definitely filling out. The one in my hands felt pretty good. I ran my hand up to her thigh and started rubbing it gently. As soon as I started running the ends of my fingers across her panties, Hans rang the door bell with our snacks. Joyce and I both went to the door. I took the sandwich tray and Joyce took the relish tray. Hans stood there smiling at us.

"Do you have any rubbers on you, Hans? I've only got three left, and Joyce is hotter than a three dollar pistol tonight." Joyce was slapping my back and arm, while Hans hotfooted it back to the limo to retrieve the three packets he's left in the rear ashtray. "Thanks, Hans. We'll put these to good use." I watched him turn away before I shut the door and followed after a retreating Joyce. I knew, if she stopped in the living room, I was in trouble. She didn't though, heading straight back for Uncle Bunny's bedroom. "Shouldn't we eat something first, Joyce?"

"You certainly should, and I've got just the thing for you to start with."

We spent an hour on the bed, before Joyce finally let me get something besides her pussy to eat. I had tried to put on a rubber, but she grabbed it out of my hands and threw it away. I didn't know if she was pregnant or not, but I had given her two good chances to get that way. The thing about Joyce was, I knew she really wanted me to make her pregnant. If I made her pregnant, we would be tied even closer together than we had ever been before.

"You've got one more fuck coming, before I can fuck anyone else Joyce. If you want to, you can just hold on to it. I won't mind."

"You might have made me pregnant." Joyce was sitting up on the bed, eating a gherkin sweet pickle and a tiny little egg salad sandwich.

"Jeez, when you sit up like that, your tits look a lot bigger. When did that happen?"

Joyce preened, and threw her chest out while was taking in a deep breath. She finished what she was eating and turned around to show me her ass, and her widening hips. I noticed a big part of my cum was leaking out of her too. It looked a little gross when you were trying to eat pickles, olives, peppers, and carrots.

"See how big my hips are now?" Instead of answering her, I leaned over and ran my tongue over the cleft of her butt. "No, don't do that. I'm trying to save my last one."

"Well, don't save it for too long. It usually takes three good fucks before you can get pregnant. I've always thought the third one was the one that did it. That little egg is all tired from fighting off all the other little tad poles. When a fresh load comes in, they can wriggle right in and knock you up in a jiffy."

"Really? You're just telling me that because you want me to use up my last one."

"Believe what you want to. Just remember not to mention to Mama that I offered to shoot another load into your ovulating pussy, but you turned it down, because you were sure I was lying about that poor tired egg of yours."

"I'm already pretty satisfied right now, Kenny. Can we save it for a later time?"

"Sure, Joyce. Call me when your period comes, and we'll do it right after. That's one of your best times, right?"

The third time was our best one of all. After we were done, I told her that one was so good, I was going to give her the next one too.

"Really? You promise not to fuck anyone before you fuck me again?"

"Absolutely. Take all the time you want. After that last one, I'm probably done for a month or more. You sure are a good little fuck, Joyce, especially when you're all worked up for it."

We ate more sandwiches in bed, and then I started getting tired again. About the third time I yawned, Joyce said she should get going. I smiled at her, waiting for her to get up, and start getting dressed again.

"I could stay here, with you, if you wanted me to."

"That would be nice, Joyce, I'd like that."

We put all the leftover food away, and there was a lot of it, then came back and went to bed. When I woke up, Joyce was sliding her ass against my morning boner. She must have been playing like that for a long time, because there was a lot of my lubricant leaking out, and her butt was sliding pretty good, up and back on my dick. When I cupped one of her not so little titties, and started kissing all over her neck, she started sliding even harder and then she did a little thing with her butt and trapped my dick right against her slot. I didn't move or anything, not until she leaned back and forced about half of it up into her wet little pussy. After that, I started helping her all I could. It didn't take too long before I splashed her pussy with another load of cum.

"Can I have one more time, Kenny? I promise this is the last one I'll ask you for."

"You've already had four times in a row, Joyce. Don't you think you're being a little bit greedy?"

She moved down until she had my shrinking dick in her mouth. She began sucking me in earnest then, and I forgot what her question was.

"One more, and that's really it?" I knew what she was hoping I'd think. She thought I'd think that she wanted to spend that fuck now, but she really didn't plan on doing that. Her mouth felt really good on my dick though, and I knew it didn't really matter anyway.

"If you make me cum in the next three minutes, I'll let you have the next two times." She only needed two minutes to win those next two times. I went back to sleep while she went into the living room to make all her bragging phone calls to Brenda and Emily. She might have called Shirley too for all I knew or cared. I wondered how long I could keep her thinking that she was only a fuck or two away from having to share me with the others. I was betting she wasn't going to ease up any until she was sure she had our baby firmly started in her body. I went to sleep feeling stronger, and a little more confident about the future.



-------

Chapter 41

It was sometime in mid September before Joyce asked me again about whether the four X's could have their dinner meeting at my house. This time, I agreed, which surprised and pleased Joyce. That only lasted until I told her I'd be going over to Mama's house to spend the evening with my parents.

"Kenny, they all want to see you again. How long are you planning on avoiding everybody?"

"Joyce, we've been getting along pretty good lately, because you've been staying inside my comfort zone. I don't feel like dealing with this now. You can hold your meeting here, if you want to, but, I won't be taking part in any of it."

"Kenny, that's just silly. You're the main reason everyone wants to hold the meetings here. It will be fun for you, I promise. I've been spending so much time here, I wanted to ask you if I can move some of my clothes and toilet things over?"

"You mean like move in here?" When I asked her that question, I'd only done it to buy myself some time, because her request surprised me, and caught me off guard. The way it came out, it sounded like I was saying I was rejecting her request.

"Never mind. I just thought, because you let me sleep here sometimes, that it would be easier if I didn't always have to run home before getting ready to go to the office. It would have been more convenient for me."

"You mean you want to put some of your things in one of the spare bedrooms, right?"

"I said never mind. It was just a thought I had. What am I supposed to tell the girls about you not wanting to meet with us?"

"Why do you need to tell them anything? I've never been at any of your other meetings. Just because I'm letting you hold it here, that doesn't mean I want to be involved with it."

"How about if I just invite Brenda to come over to cook for the three of us?"

"How about if you just come out and tell me what you really want?"

"I want you to go back to being how you used to be. You hardly ever go out, you never do anything. You aren't happy."

"I'm still recuperating. Why are you always in such a hurry? I thought you'd like it that I'm not out doing anything."

"I do, and I don't. You used to be fun. You'd be running around looking into all these new things, having your ideas. Now, you do the accounts for the group homes, and then you spend half the day on the telephone, talking to people about corn, wheat, and soy beans. You don't even ask me about what I'm doing, or what your father is working on. You don't have any interests anymore."

"I'm boring to you now? Is that what you're saying?"

"That isn't what I meant. I meant I'm worried because you're settling for so much less than you used to. I'm not the only one that's worried. I spend half my time answering people's questions, about when you're going to start doing things again."

"Tell them to call and ask me, if they're so damned curious. You don't need to be bothering yourself about answering anybody's questions about me. You've got plenty of other stuff you need to be doing already. Who are all these people asking you questions anyway?"

"Everyone who cares about you. We're all worried. If you'd start getting out and doing things again, maybe you'd have more energy. Mama and Shirley both say they want to play golf with you. Brenda wants to play tennis. That's what she says anyway, but we all think she's just using that as a pretext to get you alone with her. Emily wants to talk with you. Then there's the rest of your whole family, Hans and Gerta, Jane and Grace. They all want to see you acting like yourself again."

"I am acting like myself. This is who I am now. I don't have time to go around playing like I was still a kid. I've got responsibilities now. Somebody has to make the money to keep the group homes running. You think all of this doesn't cost us a lot?"

"That's just an excuse, Kenny. You have more than enough to fund that project, twenty times over. If you asked her, Mama would put in all the money you'd ever need. You never even go spend time with any of the group home kids. You used to love doing that." Joyce had started crying. I could tell she was getting frustrated. I knew she was right, but I couldn't explain to her about my lack of energy, or about no longer having a desire for doing any of that.

-------

It was the next day that Joyce came over to my house in the early afternoon, with Brenda and Emily. I was in Uncle Bunny's office, on the phone with my broker, arguing about an out trade he was trying to stick me with. It involved several thousand dollars of my profits, and I wasn't happy that he kept trying to stick it to me. I finally told him that I wasn't going to eat losing that profit. If his pit trader was the one that made a mistake, he should eat the loss the firm said it would be taking. I just wanted all my profits credited to my account. I had earned it by making the trade. He offered to split the difference with me.

"Darrin, here's the bottom line for me on this. I'm not going to let you fuck me out of this money. I made a trade, and I got a verbal confirmation, from your own trader, of having made that trade. If it had lost seven thousand dollars, instead of making that much, we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now. I do a lot of profitable business with your firm, and so does my whole family. You have a choice, either put the money right back in my account, or I'll pull all of our trading accounts away from your firm."

"If you put it that way, I have no choice, but we're the ones taking a big loss this time. Next time it will be your turn."

"No it won't Darrin, because there isn't going to be a next time. I want you to close all my accounts with you, as of right now. I'll have my father contact you tomorrow about his accounts. When you close my accounts, every penny better be credited, just like it should be, or else we'll take our complaint to the exchange."

"Kenny, I didn't mean it that way. I just wanted you to know you have to be fair to us too."

"I don't have to be fair. I'm already paying an extra dollar a round turn with your firm, over and above what I could get by trading almost anywhere else. I never complained about that, because things were going smoothly, and I was getting good executions by using your people. I'll find somebody else to give me a better rate, and executions that are just as good."

"Kenny, your father and I go back a very long ways. We went to college together. He was my best man at my first wedding. Talk to him before you make any rash decisions."

"Close my account, Darrin. I'll arrange to have my funds transferred to another firm in the morning."

I got up and went out to see what all that noise was about. I found the girls all together, standing in the kitchen.

"Couldn't you guys be any louder? I couldn't hear half of what my broker was trying to tell me. You didn't tell me that today was your meeting, Joyce."

"It isn't. We all thought we'd come over here and surprise you. Aren't you even going to say hello to us before you start chewing us out some more?"

"Hello, girls. This is a surprise, but I'm pretty mad about something else right now, and I wouldn't be very good company for you. If you'll excuse me, I've got business I really have to attend to. Nice seeing you all again." I turned and walked back to the office. I was just picking up the phone to call my father when Joyce came storming into the room.

"You can't just brush the three of us off like this, Kenny. It's rude, and you've hurt all our feelings."

"This is my house, Joyce. I invite people here, not you. You want to invite people over, you get your own damn house. Now get out of here, and leave me alone. I told you I've got business that needs attending to."

I turned my back to her and started dialing my Dad's office number. He'd finally broken down and had a new phone system installed. Edith was moved over to supervise the phone order room. I vaguely remembered hearing Joyce leaving, with the office door being closed behind her.

I explained to my father what had happened with Darrin, even telling him about the threat he'd made, about me having to take the next big loss.

"Kenny, I've known Darrin St. Julien for more than thirty years. If he tells you it was an out trade, then it was. He wouldn't risk damaging our relationship over a measly seven thousand dollars. I'm not going to tell you what to do with your accounts, but mine are all staying right where they are."

"You aren't going to back me over him?"

"Not for this, Kenny. I honestly believe you're in the wrong."

After we ended the call, I sat in my office. First Darrin, then Joyce, and now my own father. What had started out as a normal day for me, was fast becoming a nightmare. I could feel myself being dragged back down into the pit that I'd only recently been able to pull myself out of. The only good thing was I realized I was emotionally fragile right then, and I decided to just pull all the plugs, and disconnect from it all. I stopped thinking about any of it, putting it all out of my mind, and started doing something else.

I called Frank, asking him to see to transferring all of my trading accounts to a different firm. I told him I didn't care which firm he chose, as long as they gave me good executions, and a fair price. I told him I was taking a short break, and I'd be in touch again as soon as I was ready to resume my trading activity. I told him to transfer any funds, as they were needed, into the group home accounts.

I packed a bag, got in my car, and started driving. I kept driving all that night, until midday the following day. I was stopping at a motel alongside a highway, somewhere in Texas. I paid cash for my room, for five days, in advance, and then went straight from the rental office to the bed in my room.

I moved around every few days, driving for awhile, then checking in somewhere at a motel, always staying outside of any big city. I'd find a new place, then do some more resting, staying put, until I started wanting to move on again. I was in Florida, and I saw people playing golf.

That got my attention, because I knew it had to be either October or November by then. It made me think of Anne Coulter and California. I remembered her telling me that Mr. Webb told her he played golf year round. For some reason, I started feeling like I wanted to be hitting some golf balls.

When I'd left my house, I had about a thousand dollars on me. It was all the cash I'd kept in the house. When I got low on funds, I went to a bank, and used one of my Visa cards to get a four thousand dollar cash advance. I had about twenty three hundred of that money left, so I went to the golf course and bought a used set of clubs they were selling. I bought some practice balls and walked over to the range.

For the next month, that pretty much became my sole activity. I never played any golf though. I'd get up in the morning, have breakfast and go hit some balls. I'd stop for lunch, and then go out and practice my putting and chipping. I'd have an early dinner, usually at four o'clock in the club restaurant, then I'd spend another two or three hours hitting balls.

I'm not sure when it began, but it was while I was hitting golf balls one day, when I just started thinking again. I knew where I was before, and knew enough to eat, and to get more money when I needed to. That kind of thinking I'd been doing all along. It was the other kind of thinking I hadn't been doing. I started worrying about how my taking off like I had, was affecting Mama and Joyce. Of course, they had to be worried. I kept on hitting golf balls and thinking about what I needed to do to try to make things better for them. I finally decided I needed to call someone and talk to them. I'd tell whoever it was that I was all right, and to tell all the others not to worry.

My only problem was, I couldn't make a decision about who I should be calling. It seemed to me that this was a critical decision for me to make. Mama was the obvious choice, but, if I called Joyce, that would mean a lot to her, that I'd picked her to talk to first. I spent another three or four days thinking about that. I kept on hitting golf balls while I was trying to decide. My ball striking had never been sharper. I was hitting almost every club in my bag right where I expected to. It was eerie. I started thinking I was ready to go play a round or two of real golf, just to see how well I could score.

I finally made my decision. I'd write letters to Mama, Joyce, Brenda and Gerta. I'd mail Mama's and Brenda's first, together, then mail Brenda and Gerta's the next day. I wrote the letters at night, after I was done practicing. That took me another two days, because I wanted to make sure each letter was different from the others.

When I was finished with writing them, I took the first two over to the post office, and mailed them. Then, as a reward to myself for accomplishing that, I went out and played my first round of real golf in a very long time. I shot a seventy-six, which was my best score ever, but I was disappointed. As well as I'd been hitting the ball in practice, I'd expected to shoot somewhere in the sixties.

The next day, I mailed the other two letters, and went out to the course and shot a pretty decent seventy-three. If I hadn't three putted on the fifteenth, I'd have shot a par round of golf. I continued practicing in the morning, playing in the early afternoon, then practicing more after dinner. It was strange that I kept shooting seventy-three and seventy-four. Something always came up that kept me from shooting par or better.

I had found out, from checking the calendar in the pro shop, that it wasn't October or November. It wasn't even December. Instead, I found out it was February seventh. If I'd known that, I wouldn't have written like I had. In my letters, I'd told Joyce and Mama both that I'd probably be back before Thanksgiving. I'd written to stop them from needing to worry, but reading what I'd written wasn't going to do that, not if it was February already.

I was practicing my putting about a week after I'd sent the letters, when a taxi stopped in front of the putting green, and Mama and Joyce got out, and started running towards me. Mama was running at least, but Joyce was kind of waddling fast towards me. At first I thought her medication must have messed her up, but then I realized she had to be pregnant.

Mama reached me first, and she was hugging me, and crying, and trying to yell at me, while her nose was dripping from all her tears, and the sinus juices that were now flowing down. She didn't seem to care how that made her look. I was pretty happy to see her too, but it was Joyce that held my attention. She had on a black maternity dress, and her belly was huge. I was trying to do the arithmetic in my head. If she'd gotten pregnant in late August, and it was early February, that was still only a little more than five months. She looked ready to have a baby at any minute.

"Jesus, Joyce, you're huge. When are you due?"

"Not until late in May. Is that all you have to tell me, that I'm fat?"

"Well, no, but that's the first thing I noticed when you stood up and got out of that cab. You must be going to have a big one if you're this big already. How'd you guys get here?"

"You better stop right where you're at, and come over here and kiss me, or something, Kenny. In the first place, I'm not as big as I look. These clothes make me look bigger. In the second place, I'm having twins, a boy and a girl."

I looked over at Mama when Joyce told me that. I couldn't have said one word to anybody, not if my life depended on it. I was already figuring out all the changes this was going to mean for me.

One of the first changes would be that I'd have to give up going crazy every time something happened that got me a little bit excited or upset. I was going to be a father soon. What was I going to do about Mama or Gerta now? There wasn't a crow bar on earth that was going to be strong enough to pry either Bunny or Little Bertie out of their collective arms.

I leaned in and gave Joyce a kiss on the lips. I put my hand down on her stomach, just making sure it wasn't a big pillow that she had stuffed under her dress. It wasn't. Joyce was looking at me. She was expecting me to say something.

"Hey, Mama, did I tell you I shot a seventy three yesterday? You wouldn't believe how well I'm golfing my ball. I'm hitting everything right on the money. I don't understand why I'm not scoring even better than I am."

It turned out that Mama and Joyce had flown down in the company plane. Since I had mentioned practicing golf, in both my letters to them, they had grabbed a taxi at the airport, after flying in, and this had been their third golf course they'd checked, searching for me.

"Kenny, it's time to come back home. You've been gone long enough." Mama was standing beside me, and I looked down and noticed the marks her heels were leaving on the putting green. I pointed this out to her, and she and I moved over to the regular grass.

"Mama, I don't disagree with you about that. I'm going to finish up here tonight, then I'll jump in my car in the morning, first thing, and start driving back to Kansas. I should be back in Ridgeline by..." I couldn't remember what day of the week it was. "In a few days." I was proud of myself for figuring a clever way out of my dilemma.

Neither of them were smiling, or seemed satisfied with my response. I looked down at my watch. I had a tee time in five more minutes, and I had hoped to grab a quick bite to eat before teeing off. I heard my name being called by the starter, announcing me as being next up in the hole. I started edging over to my bag, trying to put my putter away before heading out to the first tee box.

"I need to get back today, Kenny, but Joyce will stay here, to keep you company on the ride back home. I'll leave your bag at the claim check counter, dear. Don't let him out out of your sight until you're both safely home." Mama leaned over and kissed Joyce on the cheek. She turned and looked at me then, then grabbed me in yet another of her big hugs, holding me forever, it seemed like, before finally releasing me. Joyce and I helped walk her back to the waiting taxi. "Kenneth, I wouldn't care to see any of my grandchildren being born out of wedlock. Perhaps you and Joyce might find time to discuss how to avoid this, while you're driving back home."

Joyce and I watched her until the cab turned out on the street, and headed back to the airport.

"I usually like to walk when I play, but I can get a cart for us if you want."

"I sure hope you're joking about that. I need a bathroom right now, Kenny. After that, we can go get something to eat, because I'm starved. When we're done eating, we'll go get your things packed before we go to the airport and pick up my bag. We've got a long trip ahead of us, so we better get started."

"Joyce, if you and I are going to get along, you'll need to go inside the club house there, take your pee, or whatever you need to do, then order up some lunch for yourself, and eat it, while you're waiting for me to get done playing. When I'm done, in about three hours, we'll go out to the airport and get your bag. After we get a nice dinner for ourselves, we'll go back to my room and get some sleep. In the morning, we'll start heading towards home again."

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I do."

"Did you remember that you still owed me your next two fucks, from before you left?"

"I didn't exactly remember it, but I haven't been with anybody since you, Joyce."

"Are you going to marry me?"

"Not if you're always going to be so damn bossy."



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Chapter 42

The trip back home was interesting. I think Joyce wanted to test me, to see whether or not she could get me sufficiently upset to put me over the edge. Like that time when I stopped in South Carolina, and I told her I wanted to play a quick round of golf.

It was already three thirty in the afternoon, we'd been on the road since six thirty that morning, and I was tired from doing all that driving. I just wanted to relax a little, and unwind my sore muscles. I was right to do it too, because I broke par that day, for the first time in my life.

I did it by firing a one under seventy-one, and from the back tees too. My putter had finally gotten hot on the back nine, and I was able to sink two nice long putts, both of them for birdies. When I made par on the eighteenth, I was filled with a feeling of pure joy, and a real sense of pride in my accomplishment.

Instead of being happy for me, in my moment of triumph, Joyce made it seem like I had only accomplished it by deserting her along the side of some dirt road somewhere. Nothing could be further from the truth. I'd paid a lot of money for a really excellent, and very well appointed hotel room for her comfort.

Of course, it happened to be one that was conveniently located, right there on the famous golf course where I'd just managed to break par for the first time ever. I'd read that you needed to be a hotel guest before you could even get a tee time to play the course. Even so, part of the reason why I'd gotten this very nice, super deluxe room at the hotel, was in the hopes that Joyce could rest up from a hard day of travel.

I told her to just sit on the bed, and try to relax, maybe watch some television, but, mostly, to just take it easy for the sake of our babies. One of the reasons I stopped early was that I was afraid of over tiring her. I also wanted her to be well rested, and in a good mood for dinner that night. I told her we'd go down to the hotel's restaurant, right after I got back from playing.

Instead of doing what I'd told her to do, she was sitting up on the bed, crying, when I first got back to our room. Seeing her, I immediately got concerned. I went over to the bed and started talking to her.

"Joyce, what's the matter with you? Does anything hurt you? Can I get you some aspirin or something? I just shot a seventy one, baby. I broke par for my first time ever."

"You leave me all alone in this room, with nothing to do, for hours and hours, and then you have to ask me what's wrong? "

"Did you even hear what I told you? I shot a seventy one. Besides, it wasn't even three hours, and you were supposed to be resting, or napping or something. No matter what I try to do for you, you seem to always wind up upset, and unhappy about it."

"You don't love me. That's why I'm upset. I shouldn't have bothered to come down to Florida looking for you. You care more about your stupid game than about me or these children I'm carrying for you."

"I told you I loved you. I wouldn't have told you that, if I didn't mean it. You were the one who suggested I start getting out more and playing golf. Why are you picking on everything I do now?"

"Look at me, Kenny. This isn't how I wanted to look when I saw you again. I don't even blame you for not wanting to be with me."

"You look fine, honey. You look healthy. Why are you always so hard on yourself?"

"You've only kissed me once since I came down here, and that was just a quick peck on the lips. You tell me you love me, but you never act like you do. You didn't see the look on your face when I got out of that cab with Mama. You didn't look happy to see me."

"I know it, about that one little kiss, and I wish we could do more, because looking at you really makes me horny. But, we can't, on account of the babies." Joyce just looked at me. "You know, the babies. I don't want anything happening to them. Mama would kill both of us if I did something to hurt them. I was surprised when I saw you and Mama, but I was happy to see you. I was just thinking about my tee time, and I didn't want to miss the starter's call."

"What are you talking about? How would us doing anything hurt these babies? That doesn't even make sense. The babies are both doing fine. Mama makes me go see the doctors every week. Nothing's going to happen with them."

"Well, for one thing, it would probably squish them both pretty bad. For another, me poking around in your little pussy would probably hurt them too. I was going to ask you if it would be all right if I ate you, but you know what happens to you when I do that."

"You mean I usually cum, right? That's what you're afraid will happen? How could that possibly hurt them? You're just making excuses because you aren't interested in me anymore."

"No, I meant that you get all hot and crazy when I eat you. When that happens, it makes me get really hot and excited too. When we both get excited like that, then I kind of start throwing you all over the place and go a little crazy. You know I do, because you've seen it often enough. It's bound to hurt something inside you if I get too rough with you."

"I hope when these babies are born, they turn out to be a lot smarter than their father is. There's no medical reason why we can't make love right up until the final few weeks. You can't lay on my stomach, but there are lots of other ways we could do it."

"Take all your clothes off, Joyce. Let me see what you look like naked."

"I'm not in the mood now. I'm not going to do anything with you after you made me practically beg you to pay any attention to me at all."

I started taking all my clothes off. I figured if I did that, she'd know I was seriously interested. I fully expected that she'd change her mind when she saw my big boner sticking straight up in the air. I took my socks off last, and she just sat there on the bed. She still hadn't started taking anything of hers off. I grabbed my stiff dick and started waving it at her.

It started out that I just wanted to get her attention, but damned if it didn't start feeling really good, laying there in my hand. It felt heavier than usual, and my balls felt all swollen and tight. I tried to remember when the last time was that I'd played with it in the shower. It must have been awhile, because I couldn't even remember the last time.

"Damn, Joyce, this is sure starting to feel good. You better get yourself undressed, before I finish up without you. I'm, going to count this as a fuck if I cum like this. I'm counting it just because you're here in the same room with me. After I do that, you'll only have one more left. As good as this is starting to feel, I might just continue doing it some more and use up your last fuck too." I was making faces at her, acting like it felt so good, pretending I was almost there. I saw her getting an uncertain look on her face. I knew she still put a lot of faith in my promise to save the next two fucks for her. I knew it was important to her, because she thought that was all that stood between me and the other X's.

I was totally surprised when my cock started shooting out thick ropes of sperm. It just kind of happened, even before I could stop doing my jerking off motion. One second I was fine, and the next, there was cum spitting out from the head of my cock. There was an awful lot of it too. Way more than there normally was, and it looked thicker, almost like it was a jelly rather than a liquid. The look Joyce got on her face when the cum came shooting out, it was just priceless.

"I'm not counting that as one of mine, Kenny. That wasn't even fucking. You were just jerking off. You still owe me two more times. The next two times. You better not forget that either. You promised me."

"Did you see all that cum? You know what, I don't remember jacking off or anything on this whole trip. I just never thought to do it, I guess. It felt funny coming out too. I hope I didn't hurt anything by not doing anything for so long."

"It smells bad too, Kenny. Maybe it got rotten in your balls or something. This could also just be kind of the way it is with water pipes. You need to have water run through for awhile, to get the rust stains out."

"We better get some towels, and get this mess up off the carpet and the bedspread. We don't want it to dry and leave stains all over everything. You're right, it does stink. It smells like rotten onions or something."

"It's not my cum. All I did was sit here and watch you being a fool. You made the mess, you can just go ahead and clean it up yourself."

"Fine. I will. Next time though, I'm not even going to let you watch me."

"You think I enjoyed watching you do that?"

"My mistake. It was Emily who used to like watching me cum that way. Sometimes I get things confused. I'm so sorry." Naturally, my sarcasm just made everything that much worse. When I came out of the bathroom with a damp towel. Joyce was on her side, facing away from me. Now, she was crying even harder. I cleaned everything up, then went back and rinsed out the face towel as well as I could. I went back in the bedroom. "You're sure right about that smell. Remind me not to order any of the white creamy soups tonight." I saw Joyce's shoulders start to shake again. When she turned back to face me, she was trying to laugh.

"Under par, that's really good, right?"

"It's fantastic. Some people play their whole lives and never do it. A hole in one, that's mostly luck. Shooting par or better, for eighteen holes, that takes a lot of skill. I never really thought I'd ever do it. I wish Mama had been here to see me do it. I'm glad you're here, because I'll always remember you were with me when I did it."

"Just so you know it, I'm really not counting that as one of my fucks. If you lick me right now, before we go out to eat dinner, that wouldn't count either."

"If you don't count it, then why should I lick it for you? You really should count one of them. How many more times do you think I have to cum before it stops stinking like that?"

"You should lick me because that's part of your job now. You're supposed to be keeping me happy, so the babies will be born good natured. If I'm happy, while I'm carrying them, they'll be happy too. Which is another reason not to count it as one of my fucks, because you'd mostly be doing it to help the children."

"You know what that sounds like to me? It sounds like a woman who's making things up, because she got all horny from watching me jerk off." Joyce already had her maternity smock raised up and she was trying to kick her way out of her panties. Her ass had gotten a lot bigger too, but I wasn't about to set her off again by telling her that. Seeing her swollen belly gave me almost the same feeling as breaking par had. Then I remembered that there were a lot more guys who could get a girl pregnant, than ones who could shoot par golf or better.

Joyce had always liked being eaten. It had the same effect on her that it did on Bea. This time though, her stomach was right in the way. I had her get over on her side and then I lifted up her leg and started licking her from the side, and from below. Unwieldy or not, her reaction was immediate, and it was extremely intense.

I'd never seen her cum so hard. She even peed a little. There was no mistaking this for what Brenda did, this was definitely pee. She got real embarrassed, but it didn't bother me too much. I figured it had to do with her tightening her stomach muscles when she came. The good part was she felt so bad about peeing on me, she decided to act a lot nicer to me, just to try to make up for it.

The next day, just after we were crossing into Tennessee, Joyce started back in with her crying. I had read somewhere where someone wrote about a women's body chemistry changing when she was pregnant. That's what I figured was happening with Joyce. Her mood swings were all just a part of that change taking place in her system. I let her cry, trying to ignore it. I thought my pretending not to notice it would make it easier on her, but, apparently I was wrong about that too. After about an hour, I just couldn't stand listening to it anymore.

"Tell me what's wrong now, Joyce. Did I do something I shouldn't have again? Was it me going down while you were asleep this morning and practicing my putting?"

"I didn't mind you doing that, Kenny, I didn't even know you were gone until I woke up when you came back in the room. I've been thinking, maybe we should just travel around for a few months, until after I have the babies. I don't want to go back there, Kenny."

"Back where?" I was starting to worry that she might be serious about us traveling around for a few months. I could see myself after another month or two of being there, watching her doing what she was doing, a few hundred more times.

"Back home." Damn, that's exactly what I thought she was going to say. I wondered if I should just shut up and not ask her why she felt that way. If I asked her, it was liable to be something silly, and then I'd make some comment and make it even worse. I had wanted to make it well into Missouri, by the time we stopped for the night. I just didn't see any way to avoid asking her.

"Why don't you want to go home? Everyone we know is back there. It's our home. We've never lived anywhere else."

"Because they're all waiting for you to come back. As soon as we get back there, one of them will take you away from me. Look at them and look at me."

"Who? Who'll take me away? You can't mean those other X's?"

"All those girls, but, mostly Brenda. She can't wait to get her hands back on you again. I don't remember seeing her since you left when she wasn't asking me if any of us had heard from you. You didn't send her a letter too, did you?"

"That's what you're crying about? Because you think Brenda is going to take me away from you?" She nodded that it was. "I did send a little note to Brenda, but it was way after I sent one to you and Mama. I wrote to you two first, because you were the ones I thought about first, right after I started thinking again. When are you getting all those braces off your teeth?"

"Not until next year. What has that got to do with you leaving me for Brenda, or one of the other girls?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with that. Is that early next year, or is it a lot later in the year?" I didn't want her always worrying about Brenda, Emily or Shirley. I knew I should have just come out and told her the day I first made up my mind. I had been having so much fun with her trying to get me to promise her my next fucks, that I'd let it go on for too long. Suppose she was right about the mother's mood affecting the unborn children? That's all I'd need, twins that spent all day worrying about things that would never happen. I wanted my kids to be born healthy and normal. It was going to be hard enough for them, growing up with Joyce and me as their parents. Mama was no prize either.

"I think he said they come off in March, but I might need to wear a removable retainer for a year or two longer. Why do you need to know that?"

"Good, that's only another year then. I'm positive I can last that long. Look at me Joyce. This is a serious promise I'm getting ready to make to you. I promise not to ever do anything sexual with any of those other girls, at least until after you get your braces off. I want to see if you can still suck my dick as good as you do now, without having those braces, or that little rubber band thingy that tickles my dick when you suck. If you still can, then I'm going to marry you, and forget all about any other girls, and I really mean this."

That's when I ran off the road, because she jumped on me. I couldn't push her back out of my way, because I didn't want to hurt the babies. It was a very scary fifteen or twenty seconds for both of us, but nobody got hurt. It did get pretty bumpy as we knocked down forty or fifty small pine saplings though. We had to go slow for awhile, until I could get into a town and have a new exhaust system put on my car.

When I finally got the car back under control, and had brought us to a safe stop, I really yelled at her for almost getting us killed, and the babies along with us. I was as scared for her and the babies as I'd ever been for anything. Knowing that, I felt better about my decision to marry her.

"Don't yell at me, you'll make me start."

"Start crying?"

"No, peeing. You really promise? Don't tell me you're going to stay away from them if you really aren't. If I really believe you, and it turns out you're lying to me, I'm going to really get upset."

"I said I wasn't going to do anything with any of them. I didn't have to say it. I wanted to tell you that so you'd quit worrying. You think I want to raise up a whole houseful of worry warts?"

"And you'll marry me too, right? That's just as important to me as the other thing. It's more important even."

"After you get those braces, off, I'll marry you, but only if you can still suck my cock better than anyone else does."

"You think I do it better than all those other girls? You never said that to me before. I knew you liked it when I did it, but you never told me I was the best."

"It's not even a contest, Joyce. Nobody even comes close to you with that. I already told Brenda and Emily the same thing. Well, I remember telling Brenda. It doesn't matter if I told Emily or not. You're definitely the best. That's with your braces on though. No telling how much having them off is going to affect your abilities in that area. I'm willing to gamble on holding off with those other girls until after I find out for sure though."

"You were going to have to marry me anyway, Mama said so."

"Mama said she didn't want these babies born out of wedlock. She never said it had to me that married you. Besides, if those babies aren't born before you get those braces off, you'll be in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the longest pregnancy ever, for a human."

"That's right. So, you really aren't going to marry me before the babies are born?"

"No. When we get married, I want you being able to smile your widest smile for all the wedding pictures. I'm going to have our wedding photo painted, so its a big picture, and then I'm going to have them put it high up on the wall in our entry way. It's going to be the first thing people see when they come into our house."

"Suppose I'm not that good at sucking you after my braces come off?"

"You will be. But, if for some reason you aren't, then we'll just have to go to the automatic tie breaker."

"What's that?" Joyce looked concerned about what the tie breaker would be. I thought about telling her it would be a beauty contest or something like that, but I decided to reassure her, not alarm her anymore.

"Whoever's the shortest girl, she wins."

"That seems very fair to me, Kenny."


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The End
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Posted:  2006-09-14
Last Modified: 2006-12-23 / 12:29:38 am
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