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From: "Gina Marie Wylie" <gmwylie98260@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Laura Alban Hunt Ch 22 {Gina Marie Wylie} (FF)
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Date: Wed, 29 Sep 2004 05:10:04 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Laura Ch 22.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/

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Laura Alban Hunt

Chapter 22 -- The House

Later Elena woke up and kissed me.  I smiled at her, happier than
I could remember being for a long time.

"I have to get ready for work," Elena told me.

I rolled over and kissed her solidly and she welcomed the kiss
and kissed back using her tongue.  But in a second, she pushed me
away, giggling.  "Later, dear Laura!"

She wouldn't shower with me either, but then again, she had to
run home and change clothes, so I knew she had to rush.  "I'll be
back," she said, her voice gruff, but not very deep.

"You'd better!"  I kissed her nose.  "Bring a change of clothes
and a toothbrush."

She looked at me.  "Is that what you really want?"

I nodded.

"That means we're more than friends."

I laughed.  "Anybody who can get me to do a mile in less than six
minutes has to be more than a friend."

"Later," she told me and was gone.

I was contemplating what to have for lunch, being suddenly
famished, when the doorbell rang.  Karen Wheeler smiled at me. 
"Do you have a second?"

"I was contemplating lunch," I told her.

Karen looked at her watch, and then grinned.  "I have an idea! 
Do you have any time?"

"As in how much?" I replied, thinking again about house hunting.

"Two hours."

I laughed, "My husband used to take two hour lunches.  Sure, I
just want to be back in time for Susan to get home from school."

"Tell you what, we'll leave her a note to go over to our place if
she gets home before we do.  Let me go and get Gus.  We will have
a really nice lunch!"

The next thing I knew, Karen was driving us in her Saturn, and
rapidly ended up on the freeway, heading west.

She turned to me.  "I bet they don't drive twenty miles to lunch
on Manhattan!"

"They got excited going four blocks," I told her.

She smiled at me, as I sat in the front passenger seat.

"I wanted to talk about a couple of things, girl things," Karen
went on.

"Sure."

"June is totally smitten by Carolyn," Karen said baldly.  "I
think it's a case of frustrated mother syndrome, but Sunday June
was excited about getting Carolyn to a proper coach, then when
she figured out Carolyn's problems with her mother --  her libido
went into overdrive.  Now it's cubed again.  She's hanging around
your house morning and evening, hoping Carolyn comes to visit."

I nodded.  "Carolyn is twelve," I said, wishing I could meet her
eyes.  "But I don't think that's a problem.  Carolyn isn't as --
practiced -- as June, but I don't think that will be a problem
either."  I didn't want to offend anyone, but I wanted it said.

"June doesn't want you to be jealous," Gus told me.

I did glance at her.  There was a hint of amusement in her eyes,
not anger or rage.

I shrugged.  "I'm not going to be jealous."

"Then we need a way to facilitate my daughter's libido," Karen
said.

"It's going to be a little hard, Carolyn is under some scrutiny,"
I informed them.  "On the other hand, tough shit!"

Gus guffawed and clapped me on my back.  "Language!  I hear
you're a stickler for proper language!"

"Except when the conversation turns to social workers."

"Damned right!" Karen added from next to me.

A while later we whisked into a New Orleans-style Cajun
restaurant, Pappadeaux's, a long ways from the house.  The food
was superb and we talked about light topics and the baseball
team.

On the way home, I spoke up.  "Can I ask you two a personal,
practical question?"

"Sure," Gus said.

"You live next to each other, but why didn't you get one big
house?"

"Money," Karen said.

"Zoning," Gus said.

They laughed.  "Let's just say the legal infrastructure isn't in
place for two families to buy a single family residence, no
matter how many bedrooms," Karen said.

"And any remodeling changes have to go to the zoning commission.
They get snippy with you if they think the reason you want a
bigger kitchen is because two families are going to live in a
single family dwelling," Gus explained.

"I love to cook," I told them with a straight face.

"Well, if we had your kitchen, we wouldn't have had to think
about remodeling," Karen said drolly.

"Could I buy a house and ah, rent out all of the bedrooms?"  I
asked

"That doesn't make much sense," Gus said, looking curious.

"I don't know," Karen said.  "I'm sure though, if it's a good
idea, there's a law against it."

We parked in Karen's driveway and she turned to me.  "So you
don't have a problem with June seeing Carolyn?"

"No.  Normally I'd suggest another pool party this weekend, but
I'm going off for a little R & R.  I think it would be best if
June dealt with this herself."

Karen chuckled at that.  "You can be cruel at times, Laura!  Not
that it won't do my daughter good to defer gratification for a
while."

"If she gets upset, mention to her that I was a virgin in all
ways on my twenty-first birthday," I told her.

Gus and Karen both thought that was even more cruel... but they
were both laughing.

I walked home and found Sherrie waiting for me, wanting to talk.
I sat and listened to her worry about how she was sure that our
having sex had changed everything between us and that she was
sorry and it wouldn't happen again.  After about ten minutes she
arrived back where she'd started from, starting to repeat
herself.

"Sherrie," I said, smiling.  "I care a great deal for you.  But
you and I both know that it's never going to work for us."

"I know.  I just don't want to be kicked out."  That, of course,
had been the crux of the conversation, even if she hadn't
mentioned it before.

"Sherrie, if you want to stay, you can stay.  I may have to buy a
hotel, but you can stay, okay?  I don't intend to kick you out of
my house, much less my bed.  I'm just trying to balance a lot of
eggs right now.  There are so many people I want to help!"

That brought her close to tears, thinking she was interfering.  I
ended up hugging her for half an hour, until Susan and Jamie got
home.  To my surprise, they had Carolyn in tow.

"My dad said he'd come and get me," Carolyn told me.  "He had to
go see the lawyer, then Mom.  Then he wanted a nap before he goes
to work."  She looked at me soberly.  "They want to take me away
again.  They say that I shouldn't be home alone."

It was on the tip of my tongue to say that for the first time I
agreed with a social worker.  Then I remembered that Terry had
said he worked the graveyard shift.  Right in the middle of my
musing about that, June, Tony and Sylvia arrived, and the girls
all went out to the pool.

Sherrie appeared at my elbow as I stood in the kitchen, watching
the six girls splashing in the pool, having a good time.

"I'm not making this any easier, am I?"

I turned to her, leaned over and kissed her nose.  "The only
person making my life difficult at the moment is myself.  Me, me,
me.  It's the things I want to do that are the issue."  I nodded
towards the front door.

"Elena is coming over after she gets off work.  Seven, I think
she said.  She's going to stay the night."

"And what would she say if I wanted to watch?" Sherrie looked
like a cat, contemplating whether or not to have
goldfish-in-the-bowl or bird-in-a-cage for dinner.

I laughed, and to remove the sting, hugged her.  "Sherrie, you've
never asked me if you could watch that I remember.  Marybeth
asked for you."

She blushed and I hugged her harder.

"Sherrie, my love, relax.  Enjoy."

"Laura, I think you love everyone."

"I guess," I replied.  The pressure of Sherrie's breasts against
mine was rapidly eroding my desire to be platonic.  Only an
industrial strength bra on her side and a more modest one on mine
kept sparks from flying.

"I guess it wouldn't be a good idea," Sherrie said softly.  "How
am I ever going to explain my tastes to Mike?"

"The young officer?" I asked and Sherrie nodded.

I nodded at the pool.  "I've had half the girls in the pool in my
bed.  It's not something I can explain to myself, much less
anyone else.  I have no idea."

"Life is really complicated," Sherrie observed.

"Life is," I agreed.  "But, we can reduce it to some basics. 
Like, having ribs and broccoli tonight would be yummie."

"You are inviting someone over for broccoli?" Sherrie asked,
astounded.

"Broccoli's good for you," I told her.

"Oh, yeah!  Right!  Green squishy stuff!  Ick!"

I smiled politely, thinking about a plot to change Sherrie's mind
about green vegetables.  Only Susan would realize what was going
on, because Roger had told me what he thought about Brussels
sprouts.  After my plot, he agreed they were very tasty.  In
regards to food, Susan was a proper teenager: when she was
hungry, she'd eat anything.  If she was hungry enough, she'd
chase it down and fix it herself.

It was an odd thing.  I felt the house change.  One second, it
was the house, and then it was something more.  I was standing
and watching the timer on the microwave count off the last few
seconds of defrosting the ribs.  I tried to put my finger on the
change, but I couldn't.  Then Elena kissed me on the back of my
neck, and then she wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Miss me?"

I put my hands over hers, hugging them to me.  That was how the
house felt.  Complete.  Happy, satisfied.  It was how I felt.

"Enormously," I told her.

"I was a wreck, today," Elena whispered in my ear.  "I just
wanted to come home to you."

I turned to face her.  "Please, come with me."  I reached out and
took her hand, and led her to the pool.  Sherrie was sitting at
the table, reading a schoolbook.  The others were playing some
sort of game that involved riding on someone else's shoulders,
trying to dunk each other.

I stood at the edge of the pool and smiled.  "This is my friend,
Elena," I told them.  "I expect you'll be seeing a lot of her."

Sherrie looked away, a smile on her face.

Susan and the others in the pool looked at me, looked at Elena...
and went back to what they had been doing.

Elena patted me on the bottom.  "I think that was a sign they are
more interested in dinner than anything else."

"I guess!" We shared an easy laugh.

It was odd, I thought.  One minute I was desperately searching
for something, and not entirely sure what.  Now I'd found it and
I was content, even if I still wasn't sure what I'd found.

Before dinner, June and her friends left.  Linda picked up Jamie
and Terry came for Carolyn, leaving just four of us.  We talked
for a while, then Susan and Sherrie went to study, leaving Elena
and I sitting alone, next to the pool.

"I brought things for tonight and tomorrow night," Elena told me.
 "I'll take care of myself over the weekend; I suspect you will
be busy enough yourself.  Marybeth let me read the good book
once.  It's a lot to think about."

"You're sure it won't be a problem?" I asked.

She smiled.  "We have our own definition of fidelity, many of us.
 Some people don't understand; well, maybe most people wouldn't
understand.  There are people in our lives who are important to
us; we love them beyond compare.  But we love each other in
different ways, to different degrees.  Most of the girls who
joined the team when I did are happily married now, busy raising
families.  Divorces aren't as common among us as with most other
people.

"Yet, we all remember our lives together, no matter how far we go
down our own paths.  The good times, our unity... coming together
as a group and having it mean something special.

"Have a good time this weekend; don't think about me... well,
maybe a little."

I leaned close and kissed her on the cheek.  "That won't be
hard."

Much later we lay together in bed, trading long kisses and
occasional caresses.  Elena wasn't in a hurry, and in spite of
thinking I was, I was content to move at her pace.

"You are unusually submissive tonight," Elena whispered into my
ear, her tongue then assaulting it furiously.

I had to stop for a moment and laugh.  And after a few minutes, I
still hadn't stopped.

"I didn't think it was that funny," Elena said, shaking her head
helplessly.

"I'm sorry.  Of all of the things in the world I feel right now;
submissive isn't on the list.  Content and happy head the list. 
I'm enjoying every second we're together."  I squirmed, and in
spite of her more muscular build, I had no trouble flipping her
over on her back, and then pressing down against her.  Of course,
she wasn't resisting very hard.

"Have you ever been with a man?" I asked boldly.

"A couple of times.  Once it wasn't a disaster, but afterwards he
started beating on his chest, telling the world I was his.  I
wasn't."

I smiled at her and kissed her very hard, much more passionately
than we'd been kissing.  My hands went to her breasts and I
tweaked her nipples into hardness.

"I was only with my husband, Roger," I said, breathing hard a
little later.  "I talked to a couple of other women I knew, some
of them much more experienced than I was.  Am."  I corrected
myself.

"Roger appears to have been a prince among men.  There were times
that he spent as much as a half-hour in foreplay.  Most times,
less.  And yes, there were times when the foreplay was in
parallel with the sex.  With you, sweet Elena, you are content
with foreplay."

It was her turn to laugh.  "Some guys, Laura, will tell you, all
we do is foreplay.  And if you think I'm going to be content with
foreplay..." Her hands wrapped around my bottom and she pulled me
tightly too her.  Our midsections started grinding together.  I
went back to rubbing and tweaking her breasts and there was a
hard urgency when we kissed.

It's a good thing I have a nice-sized bed, because we used it. 
We rolled over and over, one way or another; kisses and caresses,
teasing tongues and breasts rubbing together.  Her hand dropped
and she started fingering me, first my clit, then inside me.  Her
technique was different than Marybeth's; Elena wanted me to come,
Marybeth wanted to leave your knees shaking before and after you
came.

After she'd brought me off, I slid down and started licking her
inner thighs, then the folds of her pussy, then her clit and then
deeper inside her.  "Ahhhh!" Elena sighed sibilantly.  "I'd
forgotten how nice this is bare!"

So I did it again, and in the middle of listening to Elena's
rising passion, I heard a soft, familiar gasp.  I moved slightly,
glancing quickly.  Sherrie was at the door to my room, her hands
between her legs, rubbing furiously.  Other than that, she was
nude.

Elena lifted her head and looked too, then grinned at me.  She
tilted her head so she could watch Sherrie, as Marybeth had, and
I went back to pleasuring her.

Later Elena and I lay relaxed in each other's arms, Sherrie gone
once again.

"You'll be back by Sunday night?" Elena asked, her eyes glowing.

"Yes."

"And you won't mind if I show up with clothes for a couple of
days?"

"Not at all."

Elena leaned over and kissed my nipple, then pillowed her head on
my breast.  "I love you," she said softly.

"And I love you."

We swam with June again the next morning.  Afterwards, June said
she wanted to talk to me so Elena wandered into the kitchen
looking for something to eat.

"Laura, did you talk to my mom about Carolyn?"

I contemplated things and nodded.  "We also talked about Cajun
food, zoning, and baseball," I interjected.

"It's okay.  Sometimes Mom thinks she has to protect me from
myself.  She gets this look on her face that says everything.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm okay about Carolyn.  I swear I
wouldn't do anything to hurt her."

"Can I tell you something, something from one woman to another?"

June nodded, suddenly wary.

"Moms have concerns about their daughters.  Their kids, whatever
gender.  I'm a friend of yours, your mom, and your friends. 
June, if I thought for a second you were out to hurt someone,
you'd be out the front door so fast, your head would spin."

She nodded.

"So, you don't have to tell me how you feel about Carolyn, just
like I didn't tell you how I felt about Elena.  People know these
things, June, without having to be told."

She grinned.  "I figured.  She's nice."

"She is very nice.

"I am not spying on you for Karen -- she told me how she thought
you felt about Carolyn.  June, Carolyn needs friends
desperately."

June nodded gravely.  "I wanted to have Dad ask her dad if she
could come with me to swimming Saturday morning.  I told my coach
about her and she says she would give Carolyn a tryout."

I smiled at June, reached out and squeezed her hand.  "You would
make Carolyn happier, I think, with that, than anything else."

"You're saying I shouldn't..." she waved her hands helplessly.

"Make love.  June, that's not my choice.  It's something the two
of you have to decide, one at a time, then together.  I don't
think it would hurt, but I think a friend would take it slow."

June looked at me steadily, an uncanny gaze.  Some of the
commentators were right, I thought uneasily.  Our kids are
growing up much faster than we did, than our parents did.  But
what about kids from times gone past?  When girls June's age were
married?  When boys her age worked just as hard as any adult?  It
was something to think about.

I waved at the house, towards Susan's room.  "My daughter and her
friends compare it to butterflies, flitting from flower to
flower.  They enjoy each other's company; they make love and then
move on to someone new.  I don't think that would be good for
Carolyn."
	"Everybody's different," June agreed.

"We are.  Which means we have to understand the people we care
about better than most, so we don't mess up."

June nodded, her eyes bright.  "Mom says the same thing.  When
she says it, I feel like she's trying to control me, make me do
things her way.  When you say it, it's different."

"It's not really different.  If I were to say something like that
to Susan, she'd probably tell you I was 'going all mother' on
her.  That's a phrase I heard a few times back in New York.  Not
so much any more."

No, we had reasons why we clung to each other tightly in those
days.  Even now we have reasons.  Even if they were different
that what they had been.

June nodded, then got up.  "Thanks for letting me swim."

"You're welcome," I told her.  "We need another pool party, I
think.  Not this weekend, but how about the week after that?"

June smiled.  "Yeah!"

She left and I found Sherrie and Elena sitting in the dining room
having just about finished their breakfasts.  I went and woke
Susan up.

Susan smiled at me.  "Elena is really cute."

"She is.  She's going to be staying over a lot."

Susan's smile turned to a huge grin.  "Gosh!"

She hugged me and I kissed her.  It started out mother-daughter
and then changed to mildly hungry.

"Rub me," Susan whispered in my ear.

I obliged.  She hadn't really had a chance to sample how much I'd
learned from Marybeth.  It worked really well, and Susan sagged
against me.  I saw her eyes go beyond me, and I turned, expecting
Sherrie.  Sherrie was there but so was Elena.

Susan giggled, then tossed her nightie into a heap on her closet
floor and walked to the shower, wiggling and vamping to our
audience.

"You're both perverts," I said, laughing hard.

"Learning at the feet of the expert," Elena said.

"Feet?" I asked, making Sherrie blush.

I walked up to her and kissed her lightly.  "Stop blushing,
Sherrie," I told her gently.

"I guess I should.  It's not as though you're forcing me to
watch."

	"But I don't mind," I told her.  "But if you do it, don't
blush."

	Sherrie looked at Elena.

"You know how it works," I said softly.  "You might not have been
part of it, but you surely know how people felt."

	Sherrie nodded.  "I look at you sometimes and I want so many
things..."

	Elena came close and touched Sherrie on the shoulder.  "I want
to add to peoples lives, not subtract."

	Sherrie looked ready to cry.  "Sometimes I want to be with
Laura.  But I don't want to make love to her like you do, like
the others want.  I wish I was a man so I could..."  She wasn't
blushing, but she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

	"I'm tempted to paddle Laura for not mentioning where she met
me, Sherrie.  In a minute, I'll give you my card.  Come see me
today or tomorrow.  I can help."

	"How could you help with... that?"

	I remembered the nook and the contents.  I wasn't sure how I
felt; I decided that amused was good.

	"Oh, you'll see.  I'd hate to spoil the surprise," Elena said
with a smirk on her face.

	"Does your father know what you do?" I asked.

	"He knows I work for Cathy.  He's never been there, so no, I
don't think so."

	"What do you do?" Sherrie asked, curious.

	"Toy shop clerk," Elena said, beating me to an answer.

	My stomach let out a deep growl and all three of us laughed.  "I
think I've been told it's time to get something to eat myself."

	We went back to the dining room table, and I fixed small omelets
for Susan and myself.

	When I got back from taking Susan to school, Elena was sitting
on the couch, Sherrie was sitting on a hassock in front of her,
text book in hand, while Elena was rubbing her back.  Both of
them were nude.

"A quick study," I quipped.  Both of them smiled.

Sherrie lofted her book.  "I have a quiz later today.  Elena is
helping me relax."

"I went through junior high, high school, undergrad university
and never had someone to rub my back," I admitted.  "Then I met
Roger and we had wonderful sex.  I kept thinking the time we were
spending together would hurt our grades, but it didn't; if
anything, they improved.  Maybe because there were back rubs,
front rubs and all sorts of things to keep me relaxed."

"Exactly!" Elena exclaimed.  "Cheerleaders know the importance of
being relaxed and comfortable at all times.  In fact, as many
times a day as you can squeeze in the time for."

"Squeeze time or each other?" I asked.

Sherrie turned and thanked Elena, then headed off to get ready
for school herself.

Elena looked at the wall clock.  "I have to work this morning.  I
work four six-hour days a week and two eight-hour days."  She
made a face, "Friday and Saturday for the long days.  Cathy gives
me Mondays off."

I nodded.  "I was going to look for a bigger house," I told her.

"I do like this one," Elena told.  "The kitchen is to die for. 
The pool..." she came and hugged me and I took her in my arms. 
"I've wanted a pool since I was little."

"We will have a pool.  I heard a request for tennis courts as
well."

"Can I ask a personal question, Laura?"

"Sure,"

"Are you wealthy?"

I shrugged.  "Most people would think so.  But to me, it's
numbers on bank statements.  Like scores in a game that I was
watching, but not playing.  My father-in-law is a genuinely nice
person, but he's been gently hinting even before we moved that I
should find something to do.  Now I have."

"I'm not a gold digger."

I smiled.  "Elena, it's all paper.  A gold digger would just get
frustrated."

We kissed long and hard, rubbing each other's backs.  Since Elena
was bare, I definitely had the advantage.  We broke apart after a
few minutes and she laughed.  "Now, I'm going to go get ready for
work."

"Can I ask you a question?"

Elena grinned.  "Sure,"

"Am I too old?"

"No.  Older than me, sure.  But so what?  I fell in love with you
the first time I saw you.  You were so calm, so serene, even
doing something you'd obviously never done before.  Something
that most women, the first time they come in, blush and stammer
and frequently turn around and leave.  You're different, not like
that at all, Laura.  You face things.  Good, bad, indifferent,
you don't shrug and turn away or defer it to another time.  You
make up your mind and do your best."

I kissed her on the nose.  "Well, thanks for the vote of
confidence."

"Later I'll do more than vote!"  We parted with a much shorter
kiss, but still as sweet.

A bit later I was sitting at Susan's computer in her room.  I
made a mental note to myself.  I almost never used a computer and
so didn't have one.  Roger had one at home and so did Susan.  I
needed to find the box that contained Roger's, unpack it and set
it up.

I quickly found the multiple listing service entries for
Scottsdale and selected houses with five or more bedrooms.  I
chuckled when I saw there were more than three hundred entries in
the results list.  I changed the search criteria to include just
the Scottsdale zip code but that barely got it below three
hundred.

In spite of the plethora of choices, I browsed through some of
the entries.  In spite of the age of the Internet, most of the
entries were bare bones, with a lot of strange abbreviations. 
When I bought the house I let my father-in-law contact an agent,
and the agent had whisked me around to a few homes, hitting pay
dirt on the fifth visit.

I turned off Susan's computer and went into my room and dug
through the small desk I had in a corner and found the card for
the agent.  It was, I saw, now after nine.

Elena came and kissed me goodbye, leaving me contemplating just
how early one could decently call a real estate agent.

I figured that at worst he could just return my call, or failing
that, I could talk to someone else.  I dialed the number and
asked for Mr. Marshall Soares.  The young woman who answered the
phone was polite.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Soares is on vacation; he's gone to Europe
for six weeks.  Could someone else help you?"

"He acted as my agent earlier in the year.  Now I find I need a
larger place.  I was quite pleased with Mr. Soares, but if he's
not available, I'd be glad to speak to someone else."

"I'll connect you to Mr. Wright."

A pleasant male voice answered a second later.  "Andrew Wright. 
How may I help you?"

"My name is Laura Alban Hunt," I told him, then went on to
explain what I was looking for.

He'd clearly been taking notes, and when I finished he was ready.
 "Obviously, there are a lot of properties that fit your general
description."

I narrowed it down for him and then he asked, "And when would you
like to look at some properties?"

"Whenever is convenient.  Now is okay, later today.  Tomorrow
morning.  I'm booked for the weekend.  But I'd rather start
sooner than later."

"How about you give me your address and give me about an hour to
do some research.  Then I'll pick you up and squire you around."

I told him the address and he said he's see me shortly.

I went and changed clothes, wanting to look more like a woman who
could afford to spend a little money.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a few minutes, before I put
on my bra.  Thirty-six and not in bad shape at all.  My breasts
were full, with just a hint of sag.  A hint I should pay
attention to, I realized.  Running around without a bra all the
time was sexy and got me a lot of attention.  But I was too large
not to need the support.

When I heard a car in the driveway, I went out, without waiting
for him to come to the door.  I didn't care if the real estate
agent thought I was overeager.  In fact, if he did, maybe he'd be
eager to help.

Andrew Wright was my age, more or less.  He was a tall man with
black hair, skin that was dark as well.  He had large, round
brown eyes that made him look rather owlish even if he wasn't
wearing glasses.  He opened the door for me and I sat down,
smoothing my skirt, before he could get back around.

"I have three properties for you to look at," he said, when he
was seated.  He started his Mercedes and the air conditioning
kicked on at once.  "We'll spend some time later and refine what
it is you are looking for, and your schedule.  Most of the houses
you would be interested in looking at require appointments or
have scheduled viewing times."

	"I understand."

	He waved at the house.  "I glanced at your file.  Are you going
to be selling this house?"

	I shook my head.  "No, I don't think so.  My father-in-law is of
the opinion that the way to make money in real estate is to buy
it and lease it out, not sell it."

	"If you have the money to invest," he said, agreeing.

	"I do."  Evidently, I thought, it really had been a short glance
if he thought he had to say that.

	The first house was ghastly.  It was a huge pile of stucco
adjacent to a golf course.  It did have lots of green grass and
tall trees, which was nice.  What wasn't nice was there was no
pool.

	Andy, as he'd asked me to call him, was apologetic.  "A pool was
one of the search criteria I used.  I'm sorry about that."

	There had been a woman who'd met us at the door, and who'd
accompanied us as we'd toured.  She had remained silent
throughout, but now she spoke.  "My sister is very fond of
parties, but the liability issues..."  She shook her head.  "Then
someone mentioned this place.  There's a community pool that you
can book for parties and the like.  They have certified
lifeguards and all of that, plus a lot of liability insurance. 
Spread over several hundred homeowners, it saves a lot of money.
The community pool counts as a pool for the real estate people. 
A lot of people who come to look disagree."

	"There's a homeowners association?" I asked, honing in on what I
thought was essential.

	"Yes, this development is part of the golf course.  There are
requirements for grounds upkeep, right down to the color of the
grass and the types of trees and shrubs you can plant."

	I thanked her politely and we went on to house number two.

	"In your notes," I told Andy as we drove, "rule out anything
with a home owner association.  When I buy something, it's
mine."

	He laughed.  "The city council has all sorts of rules and
regulations themselves.  Scottsdale isn't the bastion of
conservative small government they like to pretend."

	"Zoning and the like, I can deal with," I told him, making a
mental note to myself to get more involved in community affairs;
talk to Marybeth about that.

	"My brother is on the city council," he told me.  "I get angry
sometimes when they pass yet another stupid law.  The problem is,
Scottsdale is really two cities."  He waved towards the south. 
"South of Indian School you find middle class families, then
further south, things go further south, economics wise.  The rich
folks that live at this end of town though, think they can
legislate one set of rules for everyone."

	He glanced me.  "Sorry, sometimes I get carried away."

	"That's okay, I get carried away at times too."

	The second house was desert landscaped and it did have a pool. 
Nonetheless, it just didn't click with me.

	The third was a little odd.  I mean, it was a Tudor, something I
was familiar with from Long Island.  There are a lot of Tudor
houses on Long Island.  But it wasn't set among other Tudors; it
was the lone Tudor.  The street was a cul-de-sac about a mile
away from my house and every house on the cul-de-sac was
different.  Not just a little different from each other, but
vastly different.

	"This was a demonstration development about six years ago," Andy
told me.  "Different builders showcasing their work.  Twenty
different builders, twenty different homes.

	"On the other hand, it's six thousand square feet in the main
house, two thousand square feet of guest house, a four-car
garage, a two-car garage, swimming pool, spa and two tennis
courts.  The swimming pool is Olympic-sized and has a pool house
larger than some homes.  All sitting on two acres."

	We'd spent about a half hour on each of the first two houses;
the third we spent most of the afternoon looking at.

	It was amazing, really.  You could go through some of the rooms,
turn around and go back and it was like an entirely different
house.  The rooms were large and comfortable, mostly done in wood
paneling that was dark, but not so dark that you felt hemmed in
or actually in the dark.  Warm would be the word I'd use for it.

	In most ways, I thought, it really was an English Tudor house of
the period.  A country house made to be lived in.

	I finally made up my mind, even though I was sure I could spend
another hour or two looking around.   We ended up sipping tea in
a Mexican restaurant a few blocks away.

	"Talk to me about the house.  Price, availability, everything,"
I told him.

	"The owner writes for a living.  He's just had a second book on
the New York Times Best Seller list.  Neither was on top, but he
did sell a half million copies of the first and more than that of
the second.  Now, Hollywood has optioned the first one for a
movie, and the Hollywood bug has seriously bitten him.  His wife
thinks she has a shot at a starring role."

	He grinned at me.  "In my misspent youth, I graduated from UCLA
with a fine arts degree in film-making.  If she was twenty years
younger, his wife might have a shot, but not today.  He's going
to find that in Hollywood, unless you are a star, a producer or
director, you're dog meat.  And as a writer, you are at the
bottom of the food chain.

	"He wants to sell quick and has set the asking price at 90% of
the assessed valuation.  A lot of houses in Scottsdale sell above
assessment, so that's a positive.  On the other hand, he wants
two point seven million.  Taxes will run about three thousand a
month, insurance about a thousand a month, and the electric bill
is about fifteen hundred.  Fill the pool and you're out another
fifteen hundred for the water.  Living in a house like that one
isn't cheap."

	I blinked, and then thought back about what I was looking for
and why.

	"I'd like to come back this evening with my daughter and a
couple of friends.  Would that be a problem?"

	"No.  The house is currently unoccupied, they've moved on to LA
and are staying in someone's guest house in Brentwood."  He
looked at me, his expression neutral.  "Are you thinking of
making an offer?"

	"Barring something untoward, either later this evening or
tomorrow."

	"You're a widow?"

	"A 9/11 widow."  I wanted to close out that line of thought and
he reacted as most people would: he didn't want to go there.

	"This is awfully expensive for a widow with a daughter."

	"A widow with a daughter, who's about to get at least one foster
child, plus I have a boarder and a friend who sleeps over."

	I waved at him.  "What are the rules in Scottsdale about
home-based businesses?"

	"Mostly zoning; if you have customers visit, there has to be
parking, that sort of thing.  There's about a dozen parking spots
on asphalt at the house.  But, that's something you should check
for yourself with the city council.  For instance, even though
you aren't cheek and jowl with your neighbors, a rock band might
bring some criticism."

	"No rock bands.  I volunteer at Scottsdale High with the
cheerleaders.  I was thinking of running something like a school
for younger girls who aspire to be cheerleaders."

	"Like I said, you should talk to the city council.  I don't know
of a reason why not, but they are very creative about finding
them, when they want to be."

	"I'd like to spend a couple more hours there this evening, but I
don't want to ruin your home life."

	"Home life?" He chuckled at that.  "I'm a divorced father of two
daughters.  My favorite movie has always been 'Support Your Local
Sheriff.'  I understand the girl in that who talks about her
dear, departed mother.  Departed, not dead."

	He paused, and then looked at me.  "I suppose that sounds crass.
 I'm sorry."

	"If we can't laugh at life, it tends to bite us in unexpected
and unpleasant places.  No offense taken."

	"So, I have a thirteen-year-old and a sixteen-year-old who
tolerate me and hate their mother."

	"Well, I'll have a huge house-warming party if I buy the house;
they'll be invited.  You too."

	"Well, that's still a ways down the road yet," Andy said, trying
to be cautious.

	"Oh yes, I understand.  On the other hand, we were talking the
other day about a house with more space.  This will do.  It will
definitely do."

"Obviously, I should have paid more attention to your financial
statement," he told me.

I smiled at him.  "Indeed so.  What time this evening?"

"Seven, I think.  I have your number and I'll call you."

I smiled, and a few minutes I was dropped off at the house a few
minutes after four.  Elena's pickup was there, so was Sherrie's
car.  I could hear the sound of voices from the pool area. 
Everyone, I thought, was there.  I smiled a knowing smile, one
that I'd had on my face when Susan was first old enough to
appreciate Christmas, the same smile I'd had on my face every
time I'd given her a present since.

<1st attachment end>


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