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Message-ID: <49984asstr$1103721005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Gina Marie Wylie" <gmwylie98260@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Laura Alban Hunt Ch 28 {Gina Marie Wylie} (Ff, cons)
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Date: Wed, 22 Dec 2004 08:10:06 -0500
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<1st attachment, "Laura Ch 28.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, FF, Cons.

	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 28 -- Comes The Stranger

As soon as I pulled into the driveway, Susan came outside to help
carry my suitcase; Elena held the door open for her.

"Have a good time?" Elena asked, a smirk on her face.

"Oh yes!"

Susan put my suitcase on my bed and then gave me a hug.  "I'm
glad you're back."

I hugged her in return, then kissed her on the cheek.  "It's true
I thought about all of you this weekend, but there was so much
else to think about..."

I looked around.  "Where's Sherrie?"

"Boyfriend!" Susan and Elena chorused.

I looked around at the familiar house, the bright faces.  "Would
you all be offended if I said what I most wanted right now was a
chance to soak in the pool?"

"Why would we be offended?" Elena asked, obviously curious.

"Oh, I go off for the weekend, meeting all sorts of interesting
people, reading some of the most interesting writing I've ever
read... and all I want to do is come home and soak my head."

Susan giggled, and turning to Elena said, "She's like that."

A few minutes later I wasn't exactly soaking my head as that was
the only part of me sticking out of the water.  I just relaxed,
letting everything flow away for a few minutes.

I don't think I slept, but the passage of time went unnoticed.

Could you teach duty and honor to someone my daughter's age?  For
that was what we had to do.  How do you teach duty and honor? 
Start instilling the virtues with your mother's milk, I guessed.
Or was it something else?  Was it society itself that taught such
things?  Was it the example of all the others around you that
provided a guide, a matrix for our actions?  Over and over,
around and around, I chased my thoughts.

I looked around and saw Elena sitting a few feet away on the edge
of the pool, contemplating me.  It took me a second to realize
that she was between the sun and me.  She realized I was watching
her and she grinned.  "Think of me as a mobile umbrella."  Elena
was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, but she was dabbling her legs
in the water.

I hauled myself out of the pool and sat next to her.  "Missed
you," I said simply.

She grinned.  "I missed you.  But, like you, I found ways to
occupy myself."

"I met Peggy Brewster this afternoon."

She looked at me and shrugged.  "I know she lives in the Phoenix
area.  A name from history lessons.  She spoke a few times at
retreats and award dinners.  The winningest high school woman's
basketball coach."

"And so very much more," I said softly.  "So very much more."

I was silent for a few minutes.  I turned to Elena, "Do you
really think it's okay for older women to sleep with young
girls?"

"I've thought about it," Elena told me.  "Who hasn't?  I've done
it, but as a young girl with someone older and now as someone
older with someone much younger.  Part of it is sex, but it's
different then just sex for the sake of sex.  At least, it is for
me.  Marybeth, Coach... when you're with them it's clear that
they like the sex, but they are interested in you as a person. 
They care about how you're doing in school, how you do on the
squad... family life, friends.  It's the full-meal deal."

I laughed.

"No, I mean it.  It's a package deal.  The ones who care, call it
the best of the women, are there for us.  From the beginning to
the end.   When I was a freshman, one of the seniors on the squad
got pregnant.  She'd gone to the prom with a guy that her parents
set her up with.  He gave her something and she woke up in bed
with the bastard the next day.  A few weeks later she missed her
period."

"There aren't words to describe someone who'd do that," I told
her, outraged.

"Sure there are.  Date rape and all that.  Little words that have
big meanings.  They pull a lot of freight when it's someone you
know.  She didn't want to tell her parents.  It was the son of
her father's boss; she was afraid her father would lose his job.
She went to Marybeth.  Marybeth took care of it.  Took her to a
clinic, paid for it.  Everything.  Held her hand more than a few
times in the next year or so when she thought about it and
started crying.

"Laura, that's what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Like
Marybeth.  Like you.  Like all those women who went before, the
healers and fixers."

I patted her hand.  "Dearest Elena, you are grown up."

She laughed.  "Tell that to my conscience.  I work in a toy
shop."

"An adult toy shop," I said, laughing.

Susan appeared, phone in hand.  "Mom, it's Carolyn."

"Hi," I said into the phone.  "How are you?"

"Hi yourself!  Okay.  I wanted to say thank you.  Tomorrow I'm
going with June and her mom to visit her coach.  My mom says that
she's not sure what she wants for me, but it pretty much has to
be something I want too."

"That sounds good," I told her enthusiastically.  "I hope you do
well tomorrow."

"Oh, sure.  That's no problem!  June was showing me things."  I
think I could feel the blush over the phone.  "Diving things,"
Carolyn said quickly.

"I understand.  Well, good luck, Carolyn."

"I just wanted to say thanks.  My dad says you've been a big
help."

"Well, that's what friends do for each other, Carolyn."

We talked for a few more minutes and I put the phone behind me on
the concrete.

"Another success story," Elena said.

"I hope so.  I talked to Denise this weekend.  Would you feel
comfortable if she came to work for me?"

Elena shrugged. "Not a problem."

I laughed.  "No, probably never again.  But I do need a
bookkeeper.  I think I want to start focusing on the big picture
and there are getting to be a lot of details.  A bookkeeper,
personal assistant sort of position."

"I wasn't jealous," Elena said, aggrieved.

"I know, dear heart.  But it did happen.  Once."

"You don't owe me anything, Laura."

"An explanation, if nothing else," I contradicted her.

"You spent the weekend at Marybeth's," Elena said, grinning.  "It
goes without saying.  Not quite orgies, but close to it.  I've
been there and done that.  Lost more than my t-shirt.  It will
probably happen again, probably for both of us.  We have to trust
each other, Laura."

"I know.  I'm still just getting used to half of the ideas.  It's
not what I learned growing up.  Unlike some."

We had a quiet dinner.  Sherrie came back and spent some time
studying while Elena and I fixed the meal.  Susan was sitting in
the living room, actually, lying on the living room couch,
reading her history book.

After dinner, Elena and I went for a walk.  I led us to the house
I was thinking about buying.  I stood looking at it for a few
minutes, Elena silently by my side.

"Second thoughts?" she asked.

"Well, more like first thoughts.  I feel like that guy who ran
for vice president with Ross Perot.  Who am I and what am I doing
here?  For me it's more like what do I want to do with my life."

I turned to her.  "One thing that keeps sticking in my mind,
something I read.  A hundred years ago two women couldn't walk
down the street holding hands as lovers.  And now we can.  We've
gone from there to here, then to now.  I want to be a part of it.
 I'd like to help change things.  There's not so much to do, I
suppose, but the job's not complete.  There's still a ways to
go."

"Yes there is," Elena said.  She waved at the house.  "And this
is going to help, how?"

"Let me ask another question.  You want to be a teacher?"

Elena nodded.

"How would you go about teaching students about duty and honor? 
How would you go about making the case for such abstract concepts
that aren't in much evidence in the world around us?"

"You don't ask easy questions, do you?"

"The easy ones are just practice," I said.

She punched me lightly in the ribs.  "Okay, the answer is, if
there is an answer, is you say the words, you describe why it's a
good thing... and then live your own life as an example of what
you mean."

"And if the rest of the world is out there every day showing
people that honor, duty, following the rules... all of that, are
just for clueless?  That if you really want to get ahead, you do
what you have to do?"

"Don't you just wish you could go off to another planet,
sometimes, and leave all the rest of it behind?" Elena asked.

"Except I honestly don't think that would work.  You might start
out with like-minded people, but they would have children and
their children would have children.  At some point, we could wind
up back where we are now."

"That's a chilling thought.  But you said, 'could.'"

"Well, until we can travel to another planet, it's all rather
speculative.  I guess what I'm trying to say is that if it is to
work, you have to somehow insulate or inoculate."

"I hate shots!" Elena said emphatically.

"I've never met anyone who admitted liking them," I told her. 
"In fact, most people hate them.  But when the time comes to get
poked, they go get poked.  I'm just thinking out loud, here."

"Good... that means we can change the subject.  Needles!"  She
shivered theatrically.

"I like the house I have now," I told her.  "It's comfortable.  I
don't know how to explain it.  The house we had on Long Island
was okay, but I didn't like it as much as this one.  There, I
always thought of myself as a visitor.  And it was just another
tract house, just like this one.  I don't know the difference. 
The new house,"  I grinned at the thought, "isn't a tract house.
How comfortable it feels time will tell."

"Maybe it's how much input you had on it in the first place."

"Roger was a good, kind and decent man.  We looked together and
made up our minds together.  He didn't push me one way or
another.  And I didn't push him.  We chose the house based on
location, schools, shopping... all very careful and methodical. 
Here, I sent an agent a list of my requirements, and when I got
here he took me around to a few places.  This was like number
two.  It had everything I wanted and that was it."

"Maybe you need to go with your gut, then."

I nodded.  "And my gut is saying this is the future.  It may not
be as comfortable, but there are other things as important as
comfort."

When we turned to go home, we twined our fingers together and
grinned at each other like schoolgirls as we walked.

Later we made languid love, taking our time, just kissing and
caressing each other.  Our passion was lurking below the surface
and eventually Elena got more aggressive and that stirred me as
well.  Then it was like swirls of different colored smoke rising
into the air, twisting and curling together, but also separate
strands as well.  We sank back, finally, pleased and content, our
arms wrapped around each other.

We slept like that until it was time to get up, then we limited
ourselves to a few kisses.  June was already seated at the
poolside when we came out, and shortly all of us were swimming.

The morning was a little cooler than it had been, about what it
was like on Long Island most summer days.  That made me swim a
little faster for a little longer and stay an even shorter time
wet alongside the pool.

Then it was hurry-up time.  I got Susan up and going, Sherrie
joining us for breakfast.  By the time I got back from taking
Susan to school, Sherrie was just leaving and Elena was
showering.  "I have an early morning of it," she told me.  "We go
through the store, making sure everything is arranged and put up
any stock we have on the shelves in the back.  Tuesday is the day
we get in new stock, mostly, and we need to be ready for that."

I nodded, kissed her goodbye and sat down in front of the phone.
I called my father-in-law who reported things well under way,
going offshore.  There were a few details of interest, and then I
was talking to Andy Wright, the real estate agent.  Yes, the
offer had been accepted, yes, I could rent the place between now
and the official closing date.

Andy went on to say, "He's going to fly back this afternoon.  If
you can meet him around four, that would be cool.  Sign a rental
agreement, give him some money, you get the keys and you can ask
any questions you might have about the place."

I agreed, and then I sat back, contemplating life, liberty and
the pursuit of happiness.  I smiled to myself.  I was about to
start spending a lot more money than I'd ever spent in my life. 
And how was I reacting to it?  Nervous apprehension?  Nope, I
felt horny.  I stared at the phone, contemplating calling
Marybeth to see if she was at loose ends.  Instead, there was a
knock on the door.

I remembered what had been said about foster parents and the way
the Children Services people might retaliate.  So, I expected to
see Sanchez when I opened the door.  Instead, it was Gus
Courdes.

"Good morning, Laura,"

"Morning, Gus," I said cheerfully.  "What can I do for you this
morning?"

"I wanted to talk to you about the same topic we discussed the
other day."

I nodded and she came in.  I offered her something to drink, but
she declined.  "I'm here on my own," she told me.  "I'm not so
much sneaking behind everyone else's back as just making sure
that you understand what we meant."

"I'm sure it was clear enough," I said with a laugh.  "In fact, I
think I'm going to put it into practice.  This weekend one of the
topics of conversation was the growing acceptance of gays in
society.  We can't get married yet, but more and more places
accept civil unions.  One day, if that's what we want, we'll be
able to get married.  And if they let gays marry, then for the
life of me, I can't see how they could object to four people who
love each other getting married either."

She grimaced.  "We didn't much get into politics.  We're kind of
libertarians.  Small "L" libertarians, we don't belong to the
party or anything.  We've had too many visits from the
nanny-government to be comfortable."

"Pain-in-the-ass busybodies," I said, agreeing.

She laughed.  "Exactly.  But scary, sometimes as well."

I nodded.  "The government doesn't see the rest of us, they just
have their rule books and their turf; they have nothing better to
do than refer to the former and protect the latter.  And if
someone gets hurt..." I shook my head.  "They don't notice."

"Yeah," Gus said.  She looked at me steadily.  "I worry about my
daughters.  Not because they're close, but because of what those
stupid rules mean to them.  They're legally sisters."

"And you worry that one day someone might find out that they are
closer than most sisters are permitted to be."

She nodded.  "None of us mind, we think they are old enough to
make that sort of choice.  We never minded when the three of them
played around when they were a little younger.  But lately, Toni
and Sylvia are so in love... to me it's as obvious as night and
day.  I'm afraid someone else will notice."

I'd noticed, but I was fairly sure I'd been supposed to notice.

"Tell me I not being foolish?"

"I don't know.  I think if you haven't had a talk with them, you
should.  Make sure they understand what's involved if they mess
up."

"We've done that.  I don't think it would be something that would
happen deliberately, but as an accident..."

"If you've talked to them, if they are being as careful as they
can... then it's like letting them drive a car.  There's no doubt
that kids and cars can be dangerous.  But at some point in time
they have to fly from the nest; no matter how much it scares us,
we just have to try not to dwell on the risks."

She looked at me and grinned.  "Why worry, eh?"

"It's human to worry.  But after a while, you have to let it go
or you can end up making a big mess on your own."

"It's the hardest thing I've found about being a mother. 
Worrying about my own mistakes, and how they would affect Toni
and Sylvia."

"Oh yeah!  But, I think we have wonderful daughters and we should
worry less about them now and savor what time we have with
them."

"One reason we wanted to raise them in our lifestyle," Gus said,
"was the hope that they'd bring lovers home to us, rather than
going away on their own."

She was silent for a second, and then she looked at me.  "I met
Elena this weekend.  She's very nice."

I nodded, smiling slightly.

"You and she..."  Gus said, and then shook her head.  "That's
none of my business."

"Elena and I, yep," I told her.  "I don't plan on hiding my
affection for her."

She lifted her eyes and met mine.  I could read her mind easily.

"No," I went on, "the age difference isn't important to either of
us."

Gus giggled.  "No I wasn't thinking that.  I was just being
mildly jealous."

I looked at her and she looked at me.  It seemed pretty clear we
were both thinking pretty much the same thing.

"I'm not being very smart, I guess.  Karen and I talked and we
both are interested in you.  We really wish there was a way to
talk you into joining our family.  But neither of us think there
is any chance of that happening."

"Probably not, but probably not for the reasons you think."

"The guys?"

"That, some of it.  But there's something else."

I could see the question on her face.

I took a deep breath.  "You have three very nice daughters, it
would be very easy for me to be attracted to them."

She didn't flinch or even blink.  Instead she looked at me
steadily.  "You like them?"

"I like all sorts of people," I told her.  "Some more than
others.  One group of people I like quite a lot is young women
who are confident, assured, smart and happy."

Gus smiled slightly.  "What's not to like about people like that?
 It's one reason I loved Karen.  She sparkles; even when she was
at her worst, she sparkles.  I think it bothered me more than it
bothered her after she was attacked."

Gus let out a sigh, "And I'm not perfect in that regard myself. 
June can be very persistent."

"Do you think it's going to stunt her growth?  Either literally
or metaphorically?"

Gus laughed.  "No, I was just one more experiment.  June is an
avid experimenter."

"I've come to believe that not only isn't it going to stunt
someone's growth, but it can actually do good.  I suppose that
sounds self-serving, but it's what I think."

"When I was in grade school, I had a teacher who let me stay at
her house a couple of times, when I was in her class.  That was
fourth grade.  We've stayed friends over the years.  It was her
that brought me out, when I was starting eighth grade.  It was a
good thing for me because I was starting to get pretty confused
between what I felt inside and what I saw going on around me."

"I think there are as many reasons as there are girls," I told
her.  "Once I got over my guilt trip I thought about it a lot." 
I smiled.  "My first time with another woman was the work of
someone just as persistent as June."

"One of the foundations of our relationship is that sex is
two-headed.  It is how we show our affection for each other, but
at the same time, we don't believe in hoarding our emotional side
from people we meet, if that's how we feel about them."

"I have lovers," I told her bluntly.  "Some are more important to
me than others.  Some are just important to me.  I understand
that the same is true for you."

"So if I were to come over there and kiss you, you wouldn't be
shocked or offended?"

"No, nor would you be in any danger of being kicked out of bed."

The doorbell went off.  The two of us looked at each other then
laughed.

I got up and went to answer it, smiling to myself.  A good thing,
because I needed it.  Sanchez was there, smiling at me.

"May I have a moment of your time, Mrs. Hunt?"

Gus appeared, nodded to the women.  "I'll be back in a while,
Laura," she told me.

"Later, Gus."

I turned to Sanchez, opening the door.  "Come on in."

She came in, and I waved for her to sit down.  It wasn't an
accident that I waved her to where Gus had just been sitting; it
was to remind me of the difference between them.

"We don't like each other," she said.

"No, I can't say as we do."

"Nonetheless, I have my job.  I've asked around about you, you
know."

I shrugged.  "Feel free."

"People tell me that you do really well with girls.  Particularly
teenage girls.  That you can communicate with them."

"I don't walk on water," I replied.

"But you do have some skills, do you not?  Beyond those of the
average parent?"

"So people say."

"There are girls in the system that do not benefit from it," she
stated flatly.  "I would be remiss if I wasn't aware of that
fact.  We are supposed to be even-handed, but there are some
whose needs are greater than others.  You said you might be able
to solve the room problem you have with that on rather short
notice."

"I can, I have," I told her.  "I bought a new house.  A much
larger place."

She grimaced.  "And is it your intention to see how many girls
you can supervise?"

"No, it is my intent to have enough space for me and my friends.
I'm going to need another of those forms for long-term guests in
my house."

"I have them in my car, I'll bring you one before I leave.  You
impressed me by getting the fingerprint done so quickly.  I
called the Highway Patrol and talked to a couple of supervisors.
They were a little defensive but admitted to going the extra mile
for a 9/11 family member."

"I didn't ask for it, but since that day there have been few
freely offered gifts I've turned down."

"How soon, do you think, will you have an extra bedroom?  One
where you will be available, at need, to supervise a young
woman?"

"Tomorrow," I told her.  "I'm renting the house I'm buying, it's
already empty.  I sign the papers on that tonight.  The place is
furnished, and occupancy would be immediate."

"It's true then, that money talks," she had a sour look on her
face when she spoke.

"Money isn't talk, because talk is cheap.  Money is like the
volume knob on a boom box.  The difference between a whisper and
a low-rider's throbbing beat."

"Her name is Rachael Avilla.  Half black, half Hispanic and all
attitude.  She has an IQ higher than 150.  She can drink, cuss
and carry on as well as any sailor.  She is currently addicted to
heroin and has herpes and gonorrhea.  Yesterday she was in a
fight in Juvenile Detention and now has a stab wound in her
thigh.  Sixteen years old in two weeks."

"And you want me to bring this paragon of virtue into my house,"
I said bitterly.  "A house where my daughter lives?"

"You know the Bowden's will have their application approved.  I
think that's wrong, but I've been wrong so many times, what's one
more?  You can just tell me to go roll my hoop someplace else, I
can find someone else, someone who at least cares about the money
we'll pay them."

"You're right about the last.  I don't care about the money.  I
have no idea how to treat, and I mean medically, someone as
messed up as this Rachael Avilla."

"We have doctors, we can set up an appointment with one.  Or you
can use your own."

I mentally kicked myself.  I hadn't needed to see a doctor; Susan
hadn't needed to see one.  That was on my list of things I was
going to get to one of these days.  I made a mental note: ask
Marybeth about a good doctor.

"I'll see what's best.  Tomorrow, you say?"

"Yes, there will be some formalities.  Papers you will have to
sign.  At first it will be temporary custody, seventy-two hours.
If you get through that, we would apply for thirty days, which
will need a judge to sign off on.  Miss Avilla has a
court-appointed ombudsman, but she has refused to see him."

"How about making it a her?" I asked.

"We have a rotation," she told me.

"Rotate the guy out, put a woman in."

"Her father was having sex with her, her uncles.  Some others. 
They beat her if she didn't perform up to expectations.  Perhaps
you're right."

"Like I said, change the ombudsperson."

She glared at me.  "You despise me, don't you?" she asked.

I laughed.  "And you hold me in high esteem.  Ms. Sanchez, this
isn't about us.  This is about a troubled young woman."

"Do you really think money will buy her happiness?"

I laughed harder.  "I have no intentions of trying to buy her
happiness.  Happiness is found inside ourselves.  No man may be
an island, but the fact is, how we look at the world is internal
to each of us.  You can't impose a worldview on someone.  She
will have to find happiness inside herself.  I can't buy it, I
can't give it to her... all I can do is give her some words of
encouragement and a safe place to think about her life."

"Ten tomorrow, then.  I will need your new address."

"I'll have it for you tomorrow.  Come here, first."

She stood up.  "I'll get that form for you.  Who is it?"

"My new significant other.  This will be the one time you can
complain about the fact it's a young woman of twenty-five."

She literally closed her eyes.  "And you think this makes you a
suitable role-model for your daughter?"

"I think my personal life is my personal life.  My daughter
doesn't have a problem with this."

"You've talked to her?"

"Yes, of course."

She started to leave, and I reached out and touched her arm.  She
shrugged away, as if I was a plague carrier.

"I don't know about your personal circumstances," I told her. 
"It's truly none of my business.  But I doubt if you have
children.  Maybe the people you meet in your line of business
don't talk to their kids, but I do.  Maybe not about every little
thing, but that's because I'm human.  You might want to
contemplate what it means to be human."

"I'm single.  I have my work.  I give my job all of my
attention."

"Once upon a time such people were called the 'Brides of
Christ,'" I told her.  "Nuns by any other name."

She recoiled in horror, as if I was accusing her of the most
terrible crime.  "Religion has nothing to do with this."

"It's easy in the modern world to deny religion," I told her. 
"But it's something my husband told me.  A lot of the people who
deny religion want you to take their word based on faith in their
premises.  Pretty much the same way as religious people ask you
to accept their premises.  Better, my husband said, to keep your
eyes and mind open.  Think for yourself."

"I think for myself," she retorted and went through the door.  A
minute later I had the papers in my hand and watched her drive
away.

I mentally crossed my fingers.  I hoped Gus wasn't watching; I
hoped she wasn't going to rush over and want to pick up where
we'd left off.  The mood had passed and I was going to need
something much better to take the taste out of my mouth.

That turned out to be Gus, only this time with Karen and their
daughters, in a group.

"We're going on a field trip," Gus said, her eyes sparkling. 
"Scottsdale Mall.  Where we will find something to eat at the
food court and then watch a movie."

"A movie?" I was wary.  I wasn't a big fan of movies.

"A movie," Karen said.  "Trust me.  We will be back in plenty of
time for you to pick up Susan."

Well, I'd wanted something to get the taste of Sanchez out of my
mouth.  I smiled at the thought.  I was tolerably sure that she
would be horrified at the thought of it being literally true.

So, I went.

I've eaten hot cross buns for breakfast before; in fact, growing
up, we had hot hot cross buns for Sunday breakfast most weeks. 
I'd never had them for lunch, but the smell tickled something
deep inside me and I just smiled at the expressions of the others
as I ate my lunch of choice.

Then we sat down in a theater to see something called "Ice Age."
I had not a clue what it was about, and once the previews were
past, it took about a minute of the movie before I was giggling
hysterically, like all the rest of them.

For all of that, the movie dealt with serious themes in a
serious, but comedic way.  Funny?  Yes?  But there was more of
that duty, honor and loyalty that I despaired so about.  And
afterwards, on the drive home, it was clear that June, Toni and
Sylvia had understood the major messages.  It was cheering.

Karen and Gus bade the girls go home, while the two of them
invited themselves inside.  The movie hadn't been that long, and
I still had a half hour before I had to leave to get Susan.

"I'm glad we did this," I told them.

"You looked pretty upset," Gus said.  "Those people..."

"We didn't want to upset you," Karen told me seriously.  "This
seemed like as good a way as any.  We like to go to the movies on
weekdays... you may have noticed we were the only ones in the
theater."

I blinked.  So we had been.

"Our own private showing," Gus chimed in.

"If there's anything we can do to help..." Karen told me.

"I'll think of you, I'm sure," I told them.  "But my friends were
right.  They are giving me a girl who's a drug addict, has been
diddled by every male in her family, who's got a couple of kinds
of VD and is mixed race.  She's smarter than June or Carolyn, I
suspect, and I guess, an attitude to match.  Tomorrow morning at
ten."

I looked at them and took a deep breath.  "I think for the first
day or two, just Elena and I will be at the other house.  Susan
and Sherrie will stay here.  June will have to ask Sherrie if
she's willing to get up early.  Sherrie's kind of a sleepy
head."

"June used to be," Karen said with a laugh.  "Now she's
motivated.  I don't know if it will last.  I hope so."  She
looked at me.  "I don't have a problem with her walking a few
doors down the street at that time of day.  I'm going to have a
problem with her going a mile or so."

"We'll work something out," I told her.  "Tell June, I promise."

They hugged me, one by one.  Gus rubbed her breasts against mine,
which brought a giggle from Karen.  "Don't make it any harder,
Gus!"

"Women, Karen dearest, don't get harder, that's a guy thing.  I'm
just making her wetter!"

I hugged her again, and then I went off to get Susan.  Back home,
both Sherrie and Elena had returned.  There was still a little
while before I had to leave for the real estate office, so I gave
them the news about our new guest.

"That's a little more than we've ever had to deal with in Cheer,"
Elena told me.

Sherrie nodded.  "Way more."

"Which isn't to say it can't be done.  Susan will stay here
tomorrow night, you too, Sherrie.  I'd like it very much if you'd
come with me, Elena."

"Whither thou goest, Laura.  Now and forever."

"Just so long as you are making a free choice."

"I am.  If things get really bad, I'll sic my father on her."

I smiled.

"Why's that funny?" Susan asked.

"Because my father is a Father," Elena told her.  "A priest."

That took some explanation, and then it was time to go.  I was
surprised and pleased; everyone wanted to come along.

Andy smiled when he saw the group.  "I'm beginning to understand
why you need a bigger place."

"This is the home team," I agreed.  "But there are other
cohorts."

He took us to the house where I was introduced to Gene Baxter,
the soon-to-be former owner, and his real estate agent, Shirley
something or other that was long and Slavic.

We sat down and signed the papers; I gave him a check for the
estimated rent.  Then for an hour he talked about the place,
being very candid about the problems.  "I have a small staff. 
Three," he told me.  "I told them that I couldn't guarantee their
jobs, but I would put in a vote of confidence.  Mrs. Hunt, they
are fine people.  I pay them well, but well is a relative term
when you throw in free rent.  It is a lot more than minimum
wage."

"And what do they do?" I asked, curious.  Then I had a delicious
thought.  What would Sanchez say when I applied for permission
for servants?

"Maria Nguyen Jones and husband Thomas Jones are the housekeeper
and groundskeeper.  He's black, about sixty.  She's Vietnamese
and a little younger.  They were married in Vietnam.  Calvin
Atticus is also black.  He's the jack-of-all-trades.  If it's
broke, he fixes it.  What he can't fix, he finds someone who can.
 If I give a party, he takes care of the catering, takes care of
parking... he's the go-to guy for just about anything you need."

I looked at him and said my piece.  "I'm a single woman with a
fourteen-year-old daughter.  Most of my houseguests are going to
be women or girls."

He smiled and nodded, understanding my concern.  "Maria keeps her
husband on the straight and narrow... or so she says.  Actually,
I think Tom is a real example of a man who worships the ground
his wife walks on.  He had a problem with the bottle when he was
in the Army.  She cured him of that, plus a few other bad
habits.

"Calvin works sunup to sundown, six days a week.  He keeps the
Sabbath.  He's a deacon at the Scottsdale Presbyterian Church. 
His wife died a dozen years ago; he has a daughter he put through
Baylor med school.  They are all family people, Mrs. Hunt."

I nodded.  "I don't see any reason for changes," I told him.

"There are two open places in the servant's wing," he told me. 
"A three bedroom suite and another studio.  Calvin lives in a
studio and Maria and Tom in a two-bedroom suite.  They also have
grown children, two girls and a boy."  He laughed.  "Of course,
all but one of them is older than I am.  There are two grandkids
as well."

He paused and then went on.  "I believe in sharing what I have. 
In the past they've had guests that stayed in not only the
servant's wing, but a couple of times, in the main house as well.
 They have free use of everything.  The times I want to use
things, I let them know.

"I suppose that's backwards, but trust me, Mrs. Hunt, if you've
never had a staff before, finding good people is very hard. 
Keeping them is nearly impossible.  You do what you have to do."

"I don't have any problem with any of that," I told him.

"Your agent, Andy, said you probably wouldn't."

We spent some time walking the grounds again.  This time the
servants made an appearance.  I realized that, until now, they'd
stayed out of the way.  Maria was shorter than Susan, but she had
a perpetual smile on her face and a quick nod of acceptance
whenever something was said to her.  Her husband was a round
fire-plug of a man, more taciturn, but who listened carefully.

Calvin Atticus was a real surprise.  He was black as midnight,
where Tom Jones was medium dark.  Calvin's teeth were so white it
was like a lighthouse beam sweeping around, anytime he opened his
mouth.  In a few minutes, he was talking with Susan about her
algebra homework, with Sherrie listening intently.

"I'm going to move some personal stuff tomorrow," I told Mr.
Baxter.  "Then Elena and I will move in.  I have a foster child,
not that sixteen is much of a child, who will come tomorrow
too."

Mr. Baxter and Andy both looked at Elena, and then looked away.

"You should talk to Calvin," Mr. Baxter told me.  "He's got a
gentle hand."  He waved towards the front of the house.  "A
couple of years ago, a woman was riding her horse over to the
park and it spooked.  Tossed her off, and took off running.  It
fetched up about a mile away, and started nibbling someone's
flowers.  Animal Control came, but they just succeeded in
spooking it again.  Poor thing ended up here.  Calvin walked
right up to it, rubbed its ears, talked to it, and led it back to
the woman who'd lost it.  No trouble."

I wasn't sure what being good with horses was going to do to
help, but then again, if it did, I was all in favor.

"Once the house closes, we'll all move in," I told them.

Later, I asked Andy if his company did real estate management. 
He grinned.  "You bet!  A full service agency."

"Well, I'm going to want to rent the other place once I'm
completely out.  I'm not sure yet about terms or rent, but there
are a few weeks before I need to worry about it."

Finally, we were home.  We hugged, one by one.  Then I brought
Susan out onto the patio and there explained the facts of life,
at least in regards to our family and money.

She listened silently until I finished; she'd saved her
questions.  "I read in the paper and heard on the TV about how
much they were giving to families of victims of 9/11."  She
looked at me searchingly.  "I knew we were millionaires.  But you
didn't seem to be affected by it, so I decided I wouldn't be
either.

"Then I thought about it, and realized that we had that money
because Dad was dead.  For a while I wanted to give it back. 
Except it wasn't going to do anything to bring him back."

"No, it wouldn't.  I almost didn't take it.  If I'd have been
single... I don't know.  Of course, then I wouldn't have gotten
it."

"The other stuff.  What Dad had from Grandma and Grandpa.  I
didn't know about that.  I didn't imagine anything like that. 
It's like something you read about in a story.  They gave you a
million dollars, just because you married Dad?"

"Yes," I said simply.  "They didn't want money to be an issue
between us.  It wouldn't have been, but it made them feel good. 
I told myself I'd never touch it unless I had to.  Then Roger
wanted to invest it.  I didn't have a problem with that.  At
first, it was a little exciting, because he was doing so well. 
But it was something he was interested in.  I was more interested
in you.  I stopped really caring.  I think Roger only cared
because it was like monopoly money.  It didn't really matter to
him, one way or another.  I think he just wanted to make a big
pile because it would be a big pile and show how skilled he was.

"But, for whatever reason, it's there.  And I can't ignore it and
pretend it's not there, because it's still growing.  Your
grandfather isn't as good as Roger, but it was something he's
done all his life -- he's not too shabby at managing money."

"So we're filthy rich," Susan said, shaking her head in wonder.

"Susan, we have a lot of money.  Look up lotto winners on the
internet.  You can go through that much money in a couple of
years with a little bad judgment.  And it's not just lotto
winners.  Athletes, rock stars... anyone who's not used to
dealing with large sums can easily make mistakes.  They trust
their family, their friends."

"You trusted Dad, Grandpa."

I laughed.  "Yep!  But guess what they grew up doing?  Me too, in
my own way.  They learned how to manage Money.  Money with a
capital 'M'.  It does make a difference.  Plus, since that's
their regular job for companies that are in the that business,
there are all sorts of audits and safeguards."

"Well, Mom, then I have a favor to ask."

"What's that Susan?"

"If you die, I get it all, right?"

I nodded.

"Don't die."

I hugged her tight, and she hugged me equally as tight.

Finally I let go.  "You're worried about the new girl," I said
evenly.

"Yeah.  She doesn't sound like someone I'm going to like."

I sighed.  "Honestly, I don't know myself.  I do know that I'd
hate for someone to judge me based on a few words from that
Sanchez woman.  If she told me the time of day, I'd check my
watch."

Susan looked at me and then grinned.  "You don't give up on
people, Mom."

"Not so far," I told her.  "This time... well, I'm not so sure. 
This girl's problems make all the others seem tiny in
comparison."

"Mom, when your life is going down the tubes, your problems are
the same size.  Overwhelming."

I hugged her again.  "One day, Susan, one day..."

She snaked a hand and cupped one of my breasts, ignoring my bra.
"Promises, promises..."

"Not tonight, dear," I told her.

She laughed.  "No, I know.  But in a bit, I might invite Sherrie
in to watch."

"That's always going to be your choice," I told her.

I kissed her on the hair, and then we went inside.

I simply clung to Elena, not wanting to be physical, my mind
running over everything I knew or thought I knew.  Tomorrow, I
thought, was going to be a struggle.

I had a great deal of trouble falling asleep; Elena kept trying
to comfort me, so finally I faked falling asleep so she would do
the real thing.

I got a little sleep around one, but I was awake at four, my mind
wide-awake, still running over things.

I kissed Elena lightly, not wanting to wake her.  I went outside
and stood in just my nightgown at the edge of the pool.  It was
just starting to get light in the east; the night was still. 
There were only a few stars visible; it was warmer than the day
before.

June showed up a little later and we swam together.  I still
couldn't keep up, even with all of my practice.  When I finished,
I pulled myself up on the concrete steps, sitting with just my
head out of water.  I'd just tossed my nightgown on the table.

A few minutes later June joined me.  "You're worried," she told
me.

"Yeah,"

"I could make you feel better."

I laughed.  "For a minute or two.  Thanks, June.  How did Carolyn
do yesterday evening?"

June chuckled.  "You wouldn't believe me."

"What wouldn't I believe?"

"Carolyn's been shining us on about how well she swims.  She's
been afraid of her mother, afraid to be too good.  She swam rings
around us.  And knocked the Coach's socks off when it came to
diving.  You know how the Coach motivated her to do her best?"

I shook my head.

"She asked Carolyn to please do her best.  That was it.  Pretty
please.  And then Carolyn swam faster than anyone on the team. 
Even the seniors.  She had a little trouble on the high board,
she was nervous.  But she did super well on the low board.  She's
actually gotten better than she was at the diving contest.  She
says she pictures it in her head, over and over, even when she's
not about to dive.  I do it a couple of times just before I dive.
 I'm going to be doing like Carolyn."

She smiled at me.  "I was kidding about making you feel good."

"Sure you were," I said, laughing.

"Well... I'd much rather make Carolyn feel good.  But she's got
the CPS people around twice a day to see how she's doing.  They
don't trust her father at all.  And he's a really nice man."  She
stopped, then added, "I don't say that about many men."

"Just so long as you know there are nice men out there."

"My dads," she said with dignity.  "I love them.  They are really
cool."  She glanced at me.  "I think I'd have liked your
husband."

"He was a really good man," I told her.  "And you know what the
worst thing was about our relationship?  I was getting so I took
it for granted.  I loved him; he loved me.  Why worry?"  I closed
my eyes.  "Well, there are all sorts of unexpected things you
have to worry about."

"Elena is nice," June said, changing the subject.

"I know,"

"Who's talking about me?" Elena said from the dark, a few feet
away.  "If I was that nice, I wouldn't wake up alone in bed."

"I kissed you before I got up, sweetie," I told her.

June laughed.  "I have a little trouble imagining you  saying
stuff like that.  You sound like Toni and Sylvia.  Two girls in
love."

"Yep!"  Elena exclaimed with pleasure.  "That's why I love her. 
A girl at heart!"

It was getting close to six, and I was well past the prune stage.
 I went to shower, and Elena joined me.  We kissed just once, but
it meant a lot.

"I'll get off as soon as I can," she told me.

"I understand.  I'll be okay.  For one thing, I'm looking forward
to telling Sanchez about my servants.  I think she will want to
tear out her hair."

"I still have a little trouble with the idea of servants myself,"
Elena muttered.

"Employees, Elena.  Staff.  Unless you want to clean and dust a
house that size.  Or mow the grass.  Or fix all the toilets."

"Put like that, maybe I do understand.  You're thinking that
woman from CPS won't?"

"Understanding is something she talks about, but I think she's
just read about it in a book.  I don't think she practices it at
all."

I told Susan and Sherry I would try to come over in the evening
and look in on them; they assured me I didn't need to.

Then it was time to take Susan to school, I told Elena that I was
going to stop at the new house on the way back, and that I
probably wouldn't be back until after she left.

I was surprised when we got to school and Susan turned to me.  "I
did like you said.  I asked Sherrie to watch me last night.  I
never really thought of myself as a perv before, but... I really
got off watching her get off watching me get off."

"Susan, people are different.  Different strokes for different
folks isn't just a saying, it's how we all live.  Too many
people, though, think their way is the only way.  There are all
sorts of decisions we have to make on how to live our lives. 
Sherrie is Sherrie; I'm not sure why she is the way she is, but
it's harmless, I think.  If you told her not to watch, I'm sure
she'd leave."

Susan nodded.  "Lately, you know... Elena, Sherrie, Linda,
Jamie... I wonder about myself."

"Wondering about it means you're thinking about it," I told her.
"Thinking about what you're doing is pretty important, and not
everyone your age does it.  It's your life, Susan."

"And if I brought home a boy?"

"Sherrie has a boyfriend.  Do you see me telling her that she's
making a mistake?"

"If I took up with a boy, you'd think I was making a mistake."

"Sherrie is older and a little better able to handle the
consequences of messing up.  And just remember what we are
talking about when we say 'mess up:' we're talking about you
getting pregnant.  At the right time, well, it can be a pretty
marvelous experience."

"You never had any other children but me."

"Trust me, Susan.  Your dad and I tried to fix that often."

"And now you need more kids like you need a hole in the head!"
she kidded.

"There's that.  Off to school with you!  Say hello to Jamie."

She vanished, melding into the hordes of other kids streaming
into the school.  I drove over to the new house and parked.  I
looked up at a house larger and grander than any I'd known.  I
was more sure than ever that I was making the right decision.

Calvin appeared.  "Come to see if we're awake?"

I laughed and shook my head.  "I'm a results oriented person,
Calvin.  You can set your own schedule, just so long as the work
gets done."

He bobbed his head.  "We're old, Mrs. Hunt.  Set in our ways."

"Are Maria and Tom awake?"

"Yes, of course."

It took a few minutes to get them; Tom was carrying a plate with
a stack of toast on it.  "My fiber," he said with a grin.  "Can't
afford to start the day without it."

"I was telling Calvin that I'm results oriented.  That I don't
care what schedule you keep, so long as things get done in a
timely fashion.  He told me you're all old and set in your ways.
I take that to mean, don't hover and the job will get done."

"I think you take it right," Calvin said with a straight face. 
"It will get done."

"I didn't want to talk to you about that, because we're all
adults and as adults, we pretty much know our jobs."  They all
nodded.

"I'm gay," I said bluntly.  "My partner and I are going to be
living together.  My daughter is fourteen, and she's gay.  Not
surprisingly, most of her friends and my friends are gay.  I have
a young woman I'm renting a room too.  She just broke up with her
girlfriend of a half dozen years, now she's dating a Highway
Patrol officer.

"I don't want to lose any of you.  Mr. Baxter not only
recommended you highly, he told me how hard it would be to
replace you."

"That's right!" Calvin growled.

"Now, on top of all of that, I've agreed to take in a foster
child.  I won't bother you with the whys and wherefores, but
let's just say that Children's Services and I don't much get
along.  They've seen fit to start me off with a teenager with a
lot of problems.

"I've not met the girl, I will, shortly.  Then we are coming
here.  Tonight it will be just my partner Elena and myself and
this girl.  You don't have to take lip from her.  If she gives
you a hard time, just turn around and walk away.  Let me know and
I'll deal with it if I can.

"I want to do as best as I can," I told them.  "This girl already
has had a terrible life, we don't need to make it worse.  On the
other hand, she has no right to spoil our lives.  Let me know if
there's a problem."

"You don't cuss," Tom said.  His voice was deep, but rough and
irregular.  It really did sound like gravel.

"Only when I'm pissed," I told them.  They all dutifully
laughed.

"I do," Tom said forthrightly.  "Sometimes I cuss up a blue
streak.  I don't mean nothing by it.  Just letting off steam."

He gestured at Calvin.  "Calvin there, he's a fine Christian
gentleman.  None better.  He doesn't get on my case about my
cussing nearly as much as Maria.  Mrs. Hunt, we love this place.
Our kids spent a lot of their lives here; hell, so did we. 
Wouldn't want to mess up."

"None of us want to mess up," Calvin said evenly.

"One last thing," I told them.  "I grew up an East Coast liberal.
 That meant being publicly bias-free, but privately reluctant to
mix with people of color.  Now my partner is Hispanic.  Not only
that, her father is a priest."  That brought smiles.  "The girl
is half black, half Hispanic.  I swear to you, I might once have
been an Eastern liberal, but I'm pretty much over that.  I want
this girl to have a chance.  The best chance I can give her.  I
want you to give her a chance too.

"That doesn't mean she can take a TV set with her if she decides
to run away.  If she runs, she runs.  She can take what she came
with.  Try to talk to her, but if she says leave her alone, then
leave her alone."

"My church has a youth outreach program," Calvin said.  "We'd be
glad to help."

I nodded.  "You have to understand that I want to succeed and
help her.  But it's also pretty hard to teach anyone nearly at
their sixteenth birthday practically anything.  We can recommend,
we can talk and talk... but when she says no or stop, we have to
listen.  If you think she's about to do something really stupid,
let me know, because I'm going to be responsible for her.  But
for heaven's sake, don't try to stop her once her mind is made
up."

"My daughter was like that," Tom said.  "It was a phase.  We were
patient and got her through it.  She's okay."

"I hope so.  Now, you all go back to what you were doing."

"Do you need help moving, Mrs. Hunt?" Calvin asked.

"No, at first it's just going to be a few personal items. 
Obviously, Mr. Baxter left a lot of furniture.  If there's
anything you like, let me know.  I'm going to redecorate, just
not right this second.

"Oh, one last thing.  I'm the boss.  The source of paychecks. 
You recognize that?"

"Of course," Maria said, and was joined a second later by the two
men.

"Well then, my name is Laura, not Mrs. Hunt.  Mrs. Hunt is
probably an ogre; we don't need her.  No, Laura is in charge. 
Call me by the name I like the most."

They all left and I got in the car.  Nine thirty.  I drove home,
finding it empty of my loved ones.  I sighed, and then decided
that this was something I'd wished for myself.  As such, it was
mine to deal with.  I might want help, but this was mine to do.

I heard car doors slam outside.  I'd told myself I wasn't going
to look until I opened the door.  Instead, I stepped to the
window and moved the drape a fraction of an inch.

Sanchez was walking towards the door, her hand on the arm of a
girl about Susan's height.  On the other side of the girl was a
uniformed policewoman, and she had a solid grip on the girl.  The
girl walked with a slight limp.

I let the curtain fall back, and then steeled myself before
moving towards the door.

<1st attachment end>


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