Message-ID: <49429asstr$1097640603@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: <gmwylie98260@hotmail.com> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Originating-Email: [gmwylie98260@hotmail.com] From: "Gina Marie Wylie" <gmwylie98260@hotmail.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <BAY24-F35y6wGbf8Byl000071bd@hotmail.com> X-OriginalArrivalTime: 12 Oct 2004 16:16:07.0302 (UTC) FILETIME=[C781D260:01C4B076] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 12 Oct 2004 09:15:12 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Laura Alban Hunt Ch 23 {Gina Marie Wylie} (Cons, FF) Lines: 876 Date: Wed, 13 Oct 2004 00:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/49429> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, hoisingr _________________________________________________________________ FREE pop-up blocking with the new MSN Toolbar - get it now! http://toolbar.msn.click-url.com/go/onm00200415ave/direct/01/ <1st attachment, "Laura Ch 23.doc" begin> ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The following is fiction of an adult nature. If I believed in setting age limits for things, you'd have to be eighteen to read this and I'd never have bothered to write it. IMHO, if you can read and enjoy, then you're old enough to read and enjoy. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ All persons here depicted are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly a blunder on my part. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Official stuff: Story codes: FF. If stories like this offend you, you will offend ME if you read further and complain. Copyright 2004, by Gina Marie Wylie. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I can be reached at gmwylie98260@hothothotmail.com, at least if you remove some of the hots. All comments and reasoned discussion welcome. Below is my site on ASSTR: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gina_Marie_Wylie/www/ My stories are also posted on StoriesOnline: http://Storiesonline.net/ And on Electronic Wilderness Publishing: http://www.ewpub.org/ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Chapter 23 -- The Good Book I walked out onto the pool deck. Carolyn was there, so was everyone else. I smiled again. They were having a lot of fun; there was a lot of water in the air and June and Carolyn seemed to be winning against Jamie and Susan, Toni and Sylvia. Whenever someone got in a major splash everyone laughed loudly, and there was a lot of laughter. Sherrie and Elena were hanging onto the edge of the pool at the deep end, talking. This was what it's about, I thought: happy laughter. I trembled. What's wrong with this picture? The answer was simple: nothing. This was what I wanted, wasn't it? The four-car garage at the prospective house had been intriguing because it could be better characterized as an eight-car garage, because there was enough space to park a huge RV in there. I knew that because there had been a huge RV on one side of the garage. The floor area, the real estate agent had told, me was nearly seventeen-hundred square feet. A hard wood floor, some mats would make it a fine place to practice cheerleading or gymnastics. But, I could get the same thing leasing sixteen-hundred feet of commercial space as well, and that would be a lot less than a huge house. What really was I really trying to accomplish? A bedroom for a foster child? I contemplated the garage attached to the house. I didn't like garages and didn't park my car in ours. It had a modest pile of boxes in one corner and was otherwise empty. When I was growing up, a next-door neighbor had killed his invalid wife and himself in their garage by simply closing the door and running his car for a while. I could do all the things I wanted to do right here; I could convert the garage into at least one more bedroom, perhaps two and a bath. Why spend the vast amount money that wonderful house would entail? I realized that Sherrie and Elena had gotten out of the pool and were now standing in front of me. One of them had said something, but I didn't know who and I didn't know what she'd said. I smiled at them and Sherrie smiled back. Elena, though, shook her head. "You can't do that. You walked out on the deck; with the biggest grin on your face I've ever seen anyone have. Then it faded and I could see you were gone too. What's up?" "Contemplating this and that," I told them. "I just realized that in the last couple of days my approach to problem solving has been to throw money at it." "No one thinks you're trying to buy friends, Laura," Sherrie said loyally. "No," I agreed, "I don't expect they are. But I've been making a lot of assumptions about how much happiness money can buy." "I don't know if it can buy happiness," Elena said seriously. "I know it can smooth out a lot of bumps in the road." "It just puts new ones in place of the old ones." I sighed. "For a long time, I let Roger deal with taking care of the money. It was his headache. He loved doing it, was a genius at it, why should I get involved? After he died, I fobbed it off on my father-in-law. If I want anything, I just pick up the phone and make a call." I shook my head. I needed to start thinking about things a lot more. There was more than one way to skin a cat. Then I thought about a huge Tudor house and my willpower started to seep away. "You drifted away again," Elena said, laughing. "Sherrie, do you have some studying to do tonight?" I asked. "Big quiz coming up tomorrow, yeah." "How about you gather up the others," I waved at the pool, "and get them started on studying. I want to take everyone out for ice cream later. Ice cream and a treat, and it's going to take a while." "Sure, no problem." Sherrie turned and called to the Susan and the other girls; I was pleased to see that they had no trouble at all giving up what they had been doing for something less pleasant. I turned to Elena. "Do you know a place around here that delivers Chinese?" "Flo's, at Frank Lloyd Wright and 94th Street." Elena laughed. "I like your cooking." "There will be other times, I promise," I assured her. She slapped her stomach. "I don't go to work tomorrow until one. Want to run up the mountain again tomorrow morning? To work off the ice cream and Chinese?" "You could just do a few extra laps in the morning." "You may have noticed my father is a little on the pudgy side; my mother was too. Ice cream and pasta, it heads for the thighs and tummy. I have to do double duty to keep it from nesting." "Or," I said, "maybe we can think of some other exercise that will work as well." Elena looked at me. "I thought sexual drive tapered off as you got older." "Second childhood," I told her, my eyes on Carolyn and June. They were holding hands and staring at each other, like the way I looked at Elena. In short order, Carolyn was studying with Susan and Jamie, Sherrie sitting a few feet away. I ordered up the Chinese and then Elena and I went back on the pool deck. It was the hottest part of the afternoon, but it felt more like a sauna than an oven. I toyed with my ice tea glass while Elena sat watching me. After I had a chance to think for a while, I looked at her. "You're very patient." "And you are obviously thinking deep thoughts. You aren't very placid this afternoon." "I saw a beautiful house this afternoon. That's what we're going to do this evening: we're going to check it out." "Isn't that what you wanted?" I met Elena's eyes. "There are times when what you want may not be the right choice. I offered to help with Terry and Carolyn's legal bills; I offered to pay the legal fees to get Amy adopted by the Bowden's. Why not?" "Because those legal fees could run to thousands of dollars," Elena told me. I chuckled, remembering long ago in college as an undergraduate living in the dorm. We had interminable bull sessions at times. One favorite topic had been the "obscene" profits fat cats made, and that no one should make more than a million dollars a year. How could you spend even that much? "What?" Elena asked. "In college, I used to take part in bull sessions, where one of the topics was capping salaries. That it wasn't right for some people to make millions of dollars a year. That was before some people started making hundreds of million. That was as an undergraduate; later I met Roger and stopped going to bull sessions." We traded grins. "When Roger told me how much the salary offers he was getting were, I didn't know what to say. He started in six figures, with a signing bonus, performance bonus, expense account perks, benefits... Everything I'd thought of when I was younger as out of line. "'Think of it as a percentage of what I make for other people,' he told me. When he gave me the numbers, I was astounded, literally astounded. In the first year he was with the company, he added a billion and a half dollars to the stock portfolios he managed. Half a million dollars as a fee for that kind of performance was ridiculous, they doubled his pay and gave him a huge bonus. "The same thing with athletes, movie stars and rock stars. If Sarah Brightman fills a three-thousand-seat concert hall, or puts ten thousand people in a stadium to hear her sing -- that's one to three million dollars she is pulling in for a performance only a few hours long. The same thing with sports stars who fill the seats of their stadium as well. They command large fees for their work." "I don't see what this has to do with the spending lots of money paying other people's bills." "Elena, it's about scale. Do you have a savings account?" She grimaced. "That's what I do. I work; I put money away. My idea of an entertaining afternoon is running up a mountain or sitting in Costco, eating a polish sausage." "How much is in it, if I can be nosey?" She shrugged. "Twelve thousand and change. Dad thinks I'm saving for a house down payment. I guess. I started saving for college, but I got some scholarships and did well enough not to lose them. There is a lot of financial aid available when your last name is Bustamonte, even if you're not really that good a student." "The house I looked at today is six bedrooms, nine baths in the main building; there's a three bedroom, two bath guest house and an 1800 square foot pool house with a rec room complete with fireplace. There are two tennis courts and an Olympic-sized pool. A four-car garage and a two-car garage. If someone offered to sell it to you for $350, would you take it?" "I'd wonder what the catch is." "Like I said, scale. The same fraction of my savings account as it would be of yours. Spend thirty or forty thousand on legal fees? Doesn't hardly show up." I gestured to her sandwich. "Less than a polish sausage on a bun." Elena was silent for a second before she spoke. "I was going to say something glib and smart; except it wasn't really going to be very smart." "Another variation on the word scale is perspective. If you've ever had to pound a nail and didn't have a hammer, you would be frustrated and looking for alternatives. A person with a hammer just drives the nail and doesn't think about it. Two or three nails? Wham, bam! Does those too! "What's bothering me isn't spending the money, it's the reasons why I want to spend the money. I'm wondering if the right way to put in a screw is with my hammer," I concluded. "Let's just say that you have an uncommon perspective," Elena said dryly. I shrugged. "I never cared. Roger was a genius, Elena. There is no other word to describe it. In 1987 he had two million in a trust fund and his parents gave me a million when we got married. He put a million in treasury bonds and then played with the rest. From then on he roughly doubled what we had every two years. It was the dot com bubble, really that made a lot of the difference." "And now that the bubble is burst?" I shook my head, "Roger knew what was going up and on top of that, he knew what was going down. Halfway through 2000, he bailed out of the market, getting some nice bond positions. He made out like a bandit when the market tanked and people started to bail out by buying bonds." Elena was silent for a long time. "I don't know what to say." I patted her hand. "Trust me, I have a lot of experience being in your shoes. Close your eyes and think of the money talk like you think about sports scores." "I don't think about sports scores," Elena said with a laugh. "See there?" We both traded smiles. Chinese arrived. Roger had shown me a science fiction story once about how hangers and socks were really alien life forms that pop in and out of our dimension. If I was writing the story, I'd have included Chinese. Terry, Carolyn's father, didn't show up to claim her until later, so she ate with us and he nibbled a bit after he arrived as well. Jamie said Linda was off "visiting a friend" and she too ate with us. Toni and Sylvia had gone home earlier, but June stuck to Carolyn like glue and ate with us. We still had leftovers. Terry and Carolyn went home, but not before I talked to him. "Carolyn said they're giving you problems about working nights." "Your lawyer, Devin, fixed that today," Terry told me. "He's a very clever man, always ready with an argument. I'm supposed to call and check on Carolyn first thing in the morning, there's a fire and burglar alarm going to be installed. I'll get beeped if there's a problem." "Good!" "I took Denise over to Marybeth's this afternoon. She wants to apologize to everyone for losing it. I'm going to take Carolyn over now to talk to her." He looked incredibly sad. "Nancy, Marybeth and her other friends have talked to Denise. Father Luis has talked to her, Devin has talked to her. Mostly, earlier, she stood in front of Carolyn's bedroom door, talking to herself." I looked him right in the eye. "I hope you both know what you're doing, because not all the good will in the universe will save her the next time." Then the real estate agent was there in his Mercedes, which was a roomier way to travel with five people than most cars. I introduced Andy Wright to everyone and it was Susan that said the obvious: "So, you found a house." "I found a house. Sherrie said I should just go do it. So I did. It's about mile away from here, closer to the mountains." "About seven-eighths of a mile," Andy said. "Because of the foothill nature of the area, it seems further." Elena had been told what to expect, but even she had considerable disbelief when she saw it. "Can we afford this?" Susan asked me, when we were standing next to the pool. I chuckled. "I was thinking a little while ago that I've talked to Elena and Sherrie about our finances. Probably about time I talked with you too. But, in a word, yes. Yes, we can afford it." "I thought you were going to do that school for the money," Susan told me. I shook my head. "For the scrubs, just like I said." "Scrubs..." her voice was filled with doubt. "Scrubs. You know, people like Carolyn and June, Toni and Sylvia. Fred too, except for a lot of luck and a lot of hard work. Me, when I was your age. Yeah, those scrubs." Sherrie appeared just as I was finishing my little speech. She looked at Susan seriously. "You're still new to cheerleading, you think everything is bright and wonderful. And it is. But a lot of the girls see only the glamorous parts of cheerleading. The short skirts, the guys drooling over you, the parties, and the events... it's very easy to get totally caught up in it. That's why we have people like Nancy, your mom, Marybeth and the others. To remind us that we're just people like everyone else. Special in that we're cheerleaders, special that we are part of something larger than ourselves. But still just people, not much different than everyone else." Sherrie could see some lingering disbelief in Susan's face. "Susan, I was nearly a scrub. My sister nearly was. Amy had to fake it. Why was that?" I could hear Andy coming, talking to Elena. "Save the discussion for later," I told them. Sherrie nodded, but the last comment about Sherry nearly being a scrub had told. Susan knew about that and knew why. It was nearly nine when I drove us to get ice cream, and we sat outside on the warm evening, enjoying sampling each other's selections. Then we were home and I dropped on the couch. It had been a long day. I was a little surprised at what happened next. Susan and Elena were chatting, then I saw them kissing. Sherrie sat down next to me and leaned close, lightly blowing in my ear. "I think I remember someone saying once," I told Sherrie, "'blow in my ear and I'll follow you anywhere.'" "I'd settle for following you to bed," she told me. "I'd like that." Elena and Susan had quickly moved past the light kissing to the heavy kissing stage. Sherrie leaned close. "I went to see Elena before I came home." I smiled at her. Sherrie's eyes were lit with some bright fire I didn't really understand. I kissed her and she kissed passionately back. "Come," Sherrie whispered. I nodded at Elena and Susan. Elena was undoing Susan's blouse and Susan was working on Elena's. "And miss watching this?" Sherrie looked, and seemed to focus on the other two for the first time since we sat down. "Move to the hassock," I murmured to her, and Sherrie obliged, sitting facing Susan and Elena. I leaned close, kissing Sherrie on the back of the neck, my arms coming around her, undoing blouse buttons. A few moments later she was bare from the waist up and I was still nibbling her neck, but my hands were wrapped around her, cupping her breasts. Elena was kissing Susan's small breasts, while her hands had shifted to Susan's jeans. Once they were undone, Elena slid down to the floor and pulled them off. She leaned close and started running her tongue along Susan's slit, the slurping sound loud in the stillness of the room. Susan moaned with pleasure and I felt Sherrie's nipples tauten under my fingers. Goodness, Sherrie really got excited watching! Elena used her thumbs to push apart Susan's lips, exposing the pink folds normally hidden. She was using her tongue and lips to lick, suck and probe, bringing more sighs of satisfaction from my daughter. I heard the faint pop of a jean snap, and felt Sherrie tremble under my hands as she plunged her fingers inside her jeans and then inside herself. I doubted if anyone would ever understand this, but I didn't care if they did or not. I'd enjoyed sex with Roger; it was all I'd expected sex to be. Now though, I'd gone to a new level and found out how much more it could be. For sixteen years I'd been sexually repressed -- and never noticed. Maybe I was a libertine now, but I didn't care. I was enjoying myself with people who wanted to be with me and who I wanted to be with. Susan let out a little shriek as she reached a major climax, then sagged back limply against the couch she was sitting on. Sherrie came then too, much quieter, trying, I thought to stifle any sounds she might make. Elena got up, and tugged Susan to her feet. The two of them came towards Sherrie and me. I got up, and Sherrie tried to, but her jeans slid down her legs. She had to take a moment to deal with the problem, which she did by kicking the jeans away. Elena nodded at Susan. "I told you she looked yummie!" Elena kissed me, knowing I'd be able to taste Susan; I kissed back, not minding in the least. I grinned at Elena. "She does taste yummie!" Susan giggled and Sherrie started to blush, but a quick hand on her arm reminded her she was supposed to keep that in check. Elena had been the one to do the reminding. "Sherrie, why don't you show Laura your new toy, while Susan and I get to know each other a little better?" I saw Susan glance at me and I nodded. No it wasn't a problem with me who either of them spent the night with. Susan and Elena vanished towards Susan's bedroom. Sherrie turned to me. "I want you," she said, her voice definitely husky. She led me to her bedroom, not mine. There she stripped me bare, kissing and caressing me as she did it. Then she finished undressing herself. I was pushed down on the bed, and she crawled between my legs and proceeded to do to me what Elena had done to Susan. And when I was writhing in passion, she smiled at me, got up and put something on. It was an elaborate phallus, with straps that went around her waist. Sherrie returned between my legs and again I soared with pleasure as she continued to kiss and lick. Then she moved to kiss my breasts, then my lips. I helped her guide the dildo to where she wanted it, and then squirmed a bit to get it comfortably seated. It was an odd sensation. It felt a little like Roger, more so than Marybeth's double headed toy, but still quite different. Sherrie's eyes were closed, her face showing signs of her pleasure. I splayed my legs further apart, pulling her more tightly to me. Sherrie came before I did, but one of the wonderful differences between men and women is that for a woman to continue on, she doesn't have to wait nearly as long. Sherrie drove into me; a mixture of tenderness and lust that beautifully brought me to another climax. I hugged her, showered her with kisses and she smiled at me, so I did it some more. "Is it crazy, Laura, to want to make love to you like a man would?" I laughed and moved slightly, so that she could feel that the dildo was still deep inside me. "Sherrie, you were in Elena's shop. She showed you these. Was this the only one?" Sherrie shook her head. "There were dozens of sizes and styles, different shapes, different colors. Sherrie, they didn't make them just for you. You aren't the first woman to use one, not by any means. You are simply exceptional, sweetheart, that's all. Exceptional in so many ways!" I kissed her again, hugging her tightly to tell her that I cared about her and didn't think she was strange or weird. It didn't take very long for both of us to get in the mood again, but I paused and cautioned her about her quiz tomorrow, although tomorrow was nearly upon us. Sherrie giggled. "I might be a little tired, but I'll be a lot relaxed!" We made love again, with her using her new toy to fill me with pleasure. It was pleasant and stimulating; I came much more quickly. We fell asleep after that, holding each other in our arms. Friday morning, June, Elena and I swam again. Try as I might, I couldn't begin to compete with either in speed or endurance. Afterwards I sat on the pool deck, as I had come to do regularly, and contemplated life. Everyone else was in the house, getting ready for the day ahead. I remembered last night, and all the other days and nights of the past few weeks. All I could do was smile, and with a great effort of will, I didn't start masturbating. The important thing was what to do about the house? A second, related question, was what to do about the whole foster parent thing. I made a mental note to talk to Devin the lawyer sometime in the morning, to see how things were going. Ditto, to talk to Amy's parents. My breakfast was served up by the others. We had bacon and eggs and sipped lemonade out on the pool deck. It was a nice morning, made nicer by the fact we had all "relaxed" the night before. The conversation was light, talking about school and work; nothing stressful, just funny stories about people they saw every day. When it was time, I took Susan to school. As soon as we were alone in the car she turned to me. "I forgot you weren't going to be home this weekend. I didn't mean to keep you and Elena apart." Smiling at her I shook my head. "Dearest daughter mine, Elena and I are grownups. You are fourteen; you pretty much have an impossible situation if you think you can get one or the other of us to do something we don't want to do. I love Elena; I love her with all my heart, as much as I've ever loved anyone. Different from anyone else, but just as much. Last night wasn't a problem for me and I'm not the least bit upset or jealous." "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." "I don't think Elena wanted you to do much thinking," I told her. "It's not a problem." "Can Jamie come over this weekend? Can we swim?" "If Sherrie or Elena is here and willing to sit at poolside." Susan nodded and a few minutes later I hugged her and gave her a motherly goodbye kiss as she ran into the school building. Sherrie was just leaving as I got back, and for the next hour Elena and I made slow, gentle love. Then it was her turn to start getting ready to go out. I called Andy Wright and told him I would be in to sign an offer. I felt at peace with myself after I told him what I wanted. I liked this house, I hated the thought of moving. I wasn't sure what June and her friends were going to do, but they were going to be welcome anyway, for as long as they wanted to come over. When I sat down with Andy, he had the papers ready for me to sign. Instead, I shook my head. "I have some questions for the owner that will have to be answered. You said there is no one currently occupying the property?" "There's a Hispanic couple who do the cleaning and fixing; they aren't living there, but they do come in several times a week and keep things up. No one is in residence." "As part of the deal I'd like to rent the property from the owners, effective as soon as the funding and title work is complete. I would like to arrange for the shortest escrow possible." "Like I said, I looked over your financial statement from January. Obviously, money isn't an issue. We can probably get through the escrow process in a month." He flicked the papers on the desk. "I understand that the owner wouldn't mind throwing in the existing furniture as a bonus." I shrugged. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't what I'd have picked, not in a million years. "If it doesn't cost anything, sure, they can leave it. A place that large is going to take a while to redecorate." We went over everything and I signed the papers. It's amazing how many there are for something simple like saying, "I'll buy your house." When I finished there, I called Devin, but he wasn't in yet. I left a message for him to call me when he did. I called Amy's parents and found Jack Bowden home. "Ann is having a bad day," he told me. "It's not like I have much of a future with my current employer, so when I can't come in, I just call and tell them. They aren't happy, but then, who cares?" "People will understand," I told him. "We have a hearing next week with a family court judge on our petition to adopt Amy. Child Welfare Services are still reviewing our application for long term foster care. Devin thinks that it is possible that we may not actually have to go public after all. Two local TV stations are looking into our story, and they've talked to the parties involved. There is a possibility that if the application is granted in the next few days, the TV stations will decide there's no story after all." "That would be good," I told him. "Ann doesn't need people gawking at this point in her life." "No. And Laura... I know you don't want thanks for what you're doing for us, but thank you anyway." "I listened to Amy speak at the cheerleading retreat; she impressed me more than any of the other girls. Cheerleading is about more than jumping up and down, shouting slogans and waving pompons and wearing not very much." He chuckled. "So I've learned. Twice girls from the team have come over and helped around the house. Ann hates people fussing over her, but she's house-proud. It bothers her that she can't do more, but it bothers her less if it gets done." "After my husband died, for about three weeks I didn't do a thing," I told him. "We ate out a lot. Finally my daughter got disgusted with the mess and spent a day cleaning it up. It woke me up, got me moving again," I told him. "It makes the unbearable just a little lighter," he agreed. "Tell Ann and Amy, Fred too, if you see her, hello from me." He laughed. "Amy and Fred. Can't get the two of them apart." He paused, and then asked a question. "What should I do about them? If Fred was a boy, I'd never consider letting him sleep over. Yet, Amy wants Fred to do just that." I thought for about a second, "It has to be your decision, Jack. Yours and Ann's. I'm a little prejudiced in the matter." "Oh," his simple word brought a smile to my face. "Jack, there is a fact of life about teenagers that I've had to face, and now you have to face. They think they know best how to live their own lives. We can give them guidance; we raise them as best we can. But as teenagers, they know the apron strings are coming off, and they are determined to make their own choices. If you know where Amy is and who's she's with, you still have some control, some knowledge of what's going on. Too many parents try to clamp down on their teenagers and find it's too late: if they were going to do it, it should have been done years before. It's better, I think, to have what's going on, go on where you have some knowledge of what is going on." "You're saying just go ahead and accept it?" "You've come half-way to accepting it, Jack. At some point in time, your daughter was going to find someone she liked, and you'd be having the same problem. You might have wanted her to hold off a while longer, but when you're a teenager you've been told all your life that you have to wait. After a while, they rebel. And that's something you don't want to have happen." "No, I don't want that. Ann doesn't either." "Fred could really help Amy right now," I told him. "She's hurt Amy herself; not intentionally, but she's done it. She wants to make amends. I'd let her." "Thanks, Laura." I saw I had a voice mail message, and found it was from Marybeth. "Come over whenever you feel like. Denise and I are up and doing things." I drove home, packed up my few toiletries, grabbed a handful of hangers and went out the door in twenty minutes. I walked up to Marybeth's door, and she opened it before I could knock. "Come in, Laura." I put my things in a closet she showed me, and then she led me to her kitchen, where Denise was sitting at the table. Denise looked up at me when I came in. She looked pale and nervous; before, when I'd seen her, she'd been wound up like a drum. "According to the shrink," Denise said, "I should apologize to everyone I've hurt. As near as I can tell, that's just about everyone I've ever met or know. A forced apology never seemed worth much to me, but it's what I have to offer. I do mean it when I say I'm sorry about the way I behaved towards you, your guests, and my daughter." She held out her hand and I took it. It was a firm handshake, not even the least bit tentative. I looked at her for a second, and made a snap judgment. "What do you do? At your day job?" She looked at me, her eyebrows furrowing. "I'm an accounts receivable clerk at a local floor-covering and interior decorating company. I call up dead beats and ask for money." "Education?" She looked more puzzled still. "I graduated from Phoenix College, accounting and bookkeeping." "And what does Terry do?" That seemed to confuse her more than puzzle her. "He's an electrician, he works at a big factory here in town; he's the night shift maintenance foreman. Not the janitors," she added with a grin. "But the ones who fix broken equipment and electrical problems." "You make what, as a clerk?" "Ten dollars and three cents an hour. Terry does much better. He's salaried." "I need an administrative assistant," I told her. "Right now, I want both of us to think about it. The position, at least now, wouldn't be much work, but will almost certainly grow over the next few months. It would be salaried. You would be free to pursue other interests when you weren't doing something for me." "You mean, like write poetry?" "If that's what you want," I nodded. "And why would you want to help me?" "Because Marybeth is someone I've come to like very much and trust even more. Because Nancy and you are good friends, and I like and respect Nancy. Because both of them say you should be trusted, that you're just having a more serious mid-life crisis than most people." I smiled at her one last time. "And of course, I haven't formally offered the position. I'm just thinking about it." "And," Marybeth interjected, "Laura has her fourteen-year-old daughter Susan to worry about. That and Sherrie Licht is staying with her as well. Laura has a vested interest in knowing that you will do as promised -- keep calm." "I will. I know none of you have any reason to trust me, but I mean it. Never again." "I believe you," I told her. "I trust you. I want you to come to know me better. You know, the woman who's slept with your daughter." "I'm sorry about the comment, it was hypocritical and uncalled for." "Coming from someone I've never seen turn down a helping of cherries in her life, I can definitely say it was hypocritical," Marybeth said, her voice dry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Denise said with a laugh. It was an easy and unforced laugh and I felt much better. "Good, because Nancy called a while ago. It seems that three of her girls have been naughty. She's going to bring them with her after school this afternoon and Laura, lucky Laura, will listen to two sides and then decide who's right. Afterwards, we'll all kiss and make up." "Kiss and make out, is what really happens," Denise explained to me. "Yes, something to look forward to. Now, Denise and I are going shopping, and you Laura, are going to sit down with the Good Book. The not-so-small compendium of wisdom dealing with teenage girls, their hormones and ours." A few minutes I was sitting in front of a dark computer screen. She leaned over my shoulder and tapped the space bar and after a second, the monitor powered up, showing a password prompt. She typed quickly and stood back. "The password is a use-once, then I have to reset it," she told me. "Don't logout unless you mean it, because until I'm back, you can't get back in. You know how to do fonts and type size changes?" "Yes," I told her. "Good. Enjoy. We'll be back in an hour, but there's nothing planned until this evening." I started reading at the beginning. At first, it was personal narrative. I read the first few paragraphs and wished Marybeth was still around to answer a few questions. This had started in 1926? She'd said after World War II; at least, I was fairly sure that's what I remembered. Yet, there it was in black and white, the clear outlines of what had come later and what was now. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+