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Date: Sun, 14 Aug 2005 21:28:47 +0000
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--- DECODED ATTACHMENT (callgirlcheerleaders#23.txt) ---
Ch. 23 Codes: Mf, FF, Ff, teen
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I was too stunned to say anything, and I lay there staring at her until she
was ready to explain what had happened.
She rolled over toward me, taking my hand in hers.
"I need to tell you a story first, so you understand."
"Okay."
"This happened about five years ago, when I was thirteen and Hayley was ten.
Our parents have never really been happy together, at least not as long as I
can remember. I didn't really understand everything until recently, until I
got some perspective by watching my friends' parents and seeing how different
things were with them. I don't think my folks have loved each other for a
long time. I know they're staying together for my sake and Hayley's. But
five years ago, they almost got divorced."
She paused, sighing and looking down at the bed.
"This isn't easy to talk about. I'm sorry."
"It's all right. Take your time."
"My folks were fighting a lot back then. Every dinner seemed to end in an
argument and with me and Hayley hiding in our room together. I spent a lot
of time holding Hayley while she cried and asked me what was going on. I
didn't know what to tell her. I mean, I was only thirteen. I had no idea
why our folks were fighting so much.
"Very slowly, it dawned on me that my mother was accusing my dad of cheating
on her. He had been gone a lot, always working late. I thought I understood
it, but at the same time, I didn't. I didn't know anything about sex beyond
the basics then, and this book my Mom gave me about 'the facts of life,' you
know, always talked about husbands and wives. As if only married people had
sex. So I didn't know how my dad could be doing it with another woman. I
guess I thought that only happened on TV.
"Anyway. One day, everything blew up. My mom had gone to the grocery store
and caught my dad screwing some sixteen-year-old checkout girl in his office.
Everyone was screaming at each other, and Hayley and I hid in our closet
crying. My dad left and moved into an apartment, but all my Mom would say
was that he couldn't live with us right now. She wouldn't tell me what had
happened, even though she had to know that I had heard her yelling at him,
you know 'I caught you fucking her' and all. The neighbors probably heard
her. But she just acted like me and Hayley didn't know what was going on
She sighed again and didn't say anything for nearly a minute.
"One afternoon, about a month after my Dad moved out, we got excused early
from school because of a fire in the cafeteria. It wasn't anything big, but
they sent everyone home early just to be safe. So Hayley and I get home at
about two o'clock, when we usually got back around three-thirty. And when we
get back, there's this strange car in the driveway. We go inside, and I can
hear something going on in my parents bedroom."
"Oh, jeez."
"Yeah. Right. But wait. See, I heard it first, but Hayley was right there
with me. I knew somehow, I was old enough by then to know what must be going
on, you know, because I could hear my mother moaning and talking to someone.
But Hayley is just ten, and she thinks Mom is hurt or something. So she goes
running for the bedroom before I can stop her. And we both burst in there
together."
"Oh, my God. And she was in bed with someone?"
"Yes. But, you see, this is the thing." She paused again, looking up from
the bed. "It wasn't another man. It was a woman she worked with."
My jaw dropped.
"Oh, Jesus. What happened?"
"All of us freaked out at once. My mom and her friend flew apart and pulled
the sheets over themselves. Hayley starts crying. She doesn't even know
what is going on, but she starts crying anyway. I grab her and pull her out,
back to our room. I'm probably the only one who is halfway stable, and I try
to calm her down, but she's just going crazy, you know? Wanting to know why
Mom is naked with this other woman and why Dad is gone. Mom comes in a few
seconds later gone completely postal about why we're home so early and that
we don't understand what was going on. I don't even remember much of what
happened after that. Just that we were all crying and yelling at each
other."
"What happened?"
"When Mom finally calms down, she tries to tell us that we can't tell Dad
about what we saw. I think now she was worried about the custody issues if
they got divorced, you know? She tried to make us swear to keep it a secret.
But I wouldn't. I told her I was going to tell Dad unless they got back
together."
"And they did?"
"I don't know if it was because of what I said, but yeah. They were in
counseling for a while, and Hayley and I went along. The counselor got us to
talk about what had happened, and gradually I think we found a way to deal
with it. We just don't talk about those days now, and I think my folks are
in this kind of armed truce. I have a feeling that they're still cheating on
each other, but they decided to stay together for the sake of me and Hayley."
"Your mother is a lesbian?"
She nodded.
"I don't know if I inherited that, or what. I wonder about it sometimes.
Not that it really matters, I guess. But, yeah, she is. I pretty much know
that for sure now."
As this story gradually sank in, I suddenly remembered how we had gotten to
this point.
"Okay. I'm glad you can share all this with me. But what's the point here?"
She pursed her lips and took a deep breath.
"Steve, you know I love you."
"Yes."
"And I want you to know I did this because I love you. Because I love you,
and I love Hayley, and this was the only way I could think of to make it
work."
I swallowed hard.
"Go on."
"At various times in the last year or so, I have noticed both my father and
my mother giving Tiffany a certain amount of a certain type of attention."
Everything dawned on me in a flood.
"Oh, my God."
"And, since that night last month, Tiffany has gotten seriously into being my
fuck toy. Even if we haven't done anything since then. Just little things
she says and does around me. When I was thinking about what to do, somehow
this idea came to me. I asked Tiffany if she would do it for me, and she
said she would."
All I could do was lie there and listen to her, aghast.
"Wednesday afternoon, when Hayley and I were at cheerleading practice,
Tiffany skipped out and came over here to my house. She pretended she was
dropping something off for me, but she stayed to talk to my Mom. She acted
like she had been jonesing for her for a while, and my Mom bought it. She
did the same thing with my Dad last night at work. That was what she just
called about."
"Why?" I gasped.
"Because Tiffany is only seventeen. That means that my Mom and Dad are now
just as guilty as you are. They can't do anything about Hayley because they
could get busted too."
"Did she *tell* them this?"
"No. But she did joke around with them about it being statutory rape. Just
so they get the point. She said my Dad kind of freaked afterward, wanting to
know if she was going to say anything to anyone. She said she might tell me
if he got weird about it."
I stared blankly across the room as the full scope of what Marianne had done
unfolded in my head. She reached out and hugged me.
"I did it for us. It was the only way."
I rolled on my back and stared at the ceiling.
"I need to think about this."
She sat up, jaw vibrating softly.
"Are you mad?"
"I'm in shock. I don't know what I am."
"But everything is okay now. They can't stop Hayley from seeing you now."
"You would really do that? Blackmail your own parents?"
"Only because they're trying to break us all up. I'll only do it if they
make me."
She threw herself across my chest, beginning to cry.
"Steve, please! Don't be mad at me. Think about how it was. Hayley was
going to cut out of this completely. Now she can come back like it was
before."
"I can't be a party to this."
"You aren't! You don't have to do anything! This is between me and Tiffany
and my folks."
I closed my eyes and sighed, listening to Marianne sobbing against my
shoulder. I put my arms around her and held her. She continued crying for
several minutes.
"Kitten. Listen."
She withdrew a little, eyes red, and looked up at me. I brushed the tears
from her cheeks and kissed her nose.
"I love you. That has not changed. But you need to give me some time to
deal with this."
"Okay."
"You said yourself that this was an extreme solution. You can't expect me to
swallow all of this in one gulp."
She nodded weakly.
"I know. Should I go?"
"That might be best. Just for now."
She sat up, pushing her hair back over her head and wiping her nose. Then
she looked back down at me sadly.
"Are we breaking up?"
That sent a stab through my gut, and I pulled her back down to me.
"No. We are not breaking up. I just need a little time to absorb all this."
"Okay. I love you."
"I love you too, Kitten."
She got up and got dressed. We gave each other a final hug, and she left.
I don't know how long I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. If I had been
walking a tightrope with Marianne and Hayley before, I now on a knife-edge.
I just shook my head at what Marianne had done. However much she tried to
act like an adult around me, she was still only eighteen. Only a teenager
could have come up with a scheme like this and thought it would work. What
did she expect to have to do? Tell her parents, "Let Hayley keep screwing
Steve or I'll tell everyone you screwed my friend?" She would be tossing a
lit match into a barrel of gasoline. *Anything* could happen.
I didn't see any of them for a few days while I tried to get my mind around
this. By the middle of the next week, I still didn't know what to do, but I
began to feel as if the time for ruminating over this was coming to an end.
I realized that I needed to know more about this. I wanted to talk to
Marianne, but my emotions were still in too much turmoil. She would probably
start crying again, or want to go straight to bed, neither of which would go
very far toward clearing my thought processes.
So I called someone else. It took some work to track down her number, but I
found her Thursday afternoon. After a brief conversation, she agreed to come
over that night.
I was just finishing dinner when she showed up.
"Hi."
"Thanks for coming over."
"I'm guessing this isn't another sex slave session you have in mind here."
"No. I need to talk to you about a few things."
I showed Tiffany into the den, and she sat on the couch. I took the spot at
the far end.
"Marianne's folks, right?"
"Right. I'm not passing judgment on any of what happened, okay? I know you
had your own reasons for going along with the idea. I'm just trying to get a
handle on it."
She nodded.
"Okay. What do you want to know?"
"You don't have to go into a lot of detail, but I'd just like to know what
happened."
She pulled her feet up under her butt and leaned against the back of the
couch, facing me.
"Well, there's not much to tell. Marianne called me last week telling me she
needed to ask me a big favor. I sort of flirted with her about it, you know,
'Are you asking me as your friend or ordering me as your slave?' So she told
me what she had in mind. I thought it sounded pretty crazy, but I told her
that if she wanted me to do it, I would. So, last week, I went by her house
like I was coming over to see her. I spent some time talking to her mom and
kind of flirting with her. She tried to play it cool at first, but once I
touched her the first time, I was sort of pretending to arrange her hair like
I was suggesting she change it somehow, she pretty much lost it. And
afterward, she got all guilty and upset, telling me I couldn't tell Marianne
and that it could never happen again and that I had to understand that she
had a 'special understanding' with her husband. All that kind of shit, you
know?"
"But that clearly wasn't her first time?"
"Oh, no. She really knew what she was doing. I mean, the sex was great.
When it came to, you know, eating me, she was the best I've had by far. No
offense."
"None taken."
"It was only afterward that she got all weird about it."
"What about her father?"
She laughed.
"I told you how he grabbed my butt once, right?"
"Yes."
"He took a lot less work than she did. I just went by the store where he
works, flirted with him a little, then asked to see his office. And he came
on to me before I did anything else."
"How was it?"
"Shit. I mean it. Worse than the first guy I slept with, which I didn't
think could possibly have been any worse. It was over in less than a minute,
you know? I hardly had time to get wet enough to do it. I teased him about
it afterward, and he completely freaked out, saying he never did stuff like
this before and I couldn't tell anybody and all, especially Marianne. I made
fun of him, and turned into this little boy almost, getting all red and
embarrassed. I had a good laugh about it when I got home."
"And neither of them had a clue what you were really doing?"
"Not as far as I know. Her dad, shit, I have no problem with fucking with
him over this. He's a toad. But her Mom . . ."
She sighed.
"I do feel bad about her. There was something weird going on in her head
while we were doing it. I don't know what it was, but it was something. I
would have a tough time getting her busted over what we did. I do like her.
She can be pretty cool when she's not gone all mother-y."
"Huh."
"So what are you going to do now?"
"I don't know. I need to think about this some more."
Tiffany went home, and I tried to digest what she had told me. No solutions
presented themselves that night. But the next day at work, I decided that I
could not let this situation fester any longer. I had to shoulder my
responsibility to unravel this mess. And I could see only one way of doing
it.
I knew, from having seen a little office notepad Marianne had had with her
once, where her mother worked. I got the number from information, and after
gathering my courage for a few minutes, made the call.
"Elizabeth Mulcahey."
"Mrs. Mulcahey, this is Steve Chandler."
She didn't respond for a few seconds.
"What do you want?" she asked icily.
"I would like to have lunch with you this afternoon. There are some things
we need to say to each other."
"I have nothing to say to you."
"Well, I have a great deal I need to say to you. And I think you will want
to hear this once you see what it is."
"Which is what?"
"It's not something we can discuss over the phone."
"I am a busy woman, Mr. Chandler. I do not have time to listen to whatever
snow job you want to put over on me."
"This isn't a snow job. There are just certain things I think you need to
know about."
I could almost hear her fuming over the phone.
"All right. I suppose I have no choice. Do you know where I am?"
"Yes. I've been over to that office park a few times."
"There is a little sandwich shop on the first floor of my building. I will
be there at noon."
"Fine."
She hung up.
I got to the sandwich shop at eleven-fifty and ordered a turkey and swiss on
rye. I sat down in the corner of the patio to wait. At a few minutes before
twelve, I saw Elizabeth Mulcahey coming around the building from the main
entrance. She gave me a steely glare as she approached. Again, there was
that odd twinge of familiarity about her, though I was still unable to place
it.
"Hello."
"Hello," I said. "Why don't you get your lunch first?"
She nodded and went inside, returning a few minutes later with a salad and an
iced tea.
"All right. Say what you have to say."
I took a deep breath and began.
"What I'm about to tell you is not going to make you happy. It will probably
make you very, very unhappy, but I have been put into a situation where I see
no other choice but to tell you. The alternative is too precarious and ugly
for me to be comfortable about allowing it to continue."
I had to look away from her for a moment.
"I know about you and Tiffany. What happened between the two of you was part
of a prearranged plan between her and Marianne." I looked back at her now,
seeing her face gone white. "I did not find out about it until afterward.
Tiffany has also slept with your husband. Marianne thought this would
provide her with something to hold over your heads."
Elizabeth turned away from me, closing her eyes tightly. I watched her
swallow hard and try to compose herself. She took a ragged breath.
"Why? She had you. What else did she want?"
I couldn't answer her for a few seconds, and I had to force the words out of
my mouth.
"Because she was afraid of what would happen if you found out about Hayley."
Her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged in their sockets. She stared at me in
horror, looking for anything that would deny the picture I had just put in
her head. I just looked back at her.
Then she slapped me, hard enough to make the other customers turn and stare
at us. She did it again, and I grabbed her hand. She struggled with me,
trying to pull free, and I let go of her after a second or two. She fell
back into her chair, pushing it away from the table as she gasped for breath.
"You . . . you . . . how could you?"
I had to tear my eyes away from her.
"It's not something I'm particularly proud of. Marianne brought her into
this, and she wants her to continue being a part of it. When she told you
about us, I thought it would be enough to ease Hayley out. But apparently
neither of them want that. I don't know whether it's just adolescent
infatuation, but Hayley has convinced herself that she loves me, and Marianne
does not want to force her out. I know about your husband's history, and I
know that may have something to do with this."
"And now you're going to blackmail me with what I did with that girl so you
can continue doing this?"
"I'm not trying to blackmail you. I'm trying to get you to see the situation
that Marianne has created."
I looked back at her now, seeing her wiping tears out of her eyes. She
looked away from me, across the front lawn of the office park.
"Does she know you're here?"
"No. She thought she could just set this up and then dump it on you if you
ever found out about Hayley. But I decided I could not let her try to
blackmail her own parents."
She laughed bitterly.
"Oh, you're just a wellspring of morality and ethics, aren't you?"
Something about the sneer she shot at me, the precise angle to the curve of
her lips, stabbed through my gut with a twinge of long-forgotten adolescent
angst. I had seen that look before (On her? On someone else?), but it was
just out of reach. The memory was like a puff of smoke, too intangible to
grasp.
"I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm just trying to straighten this out with
the fewest number of people getting hurt."
"And what do you want me to do?"
"Think about where we are. If Hayley has a fit about this and tells someone,
or you turn me in, what you and your husband did will probably come out too.
I don't think that the county Department of Child Services will look very
kindly on this situation. I don't think Marianne has thought this through,
but *all* of us could get busted for this, including her. She's eighteen
now, and they might just charge her with aiding and abetting statutory rape.
So all of us get arrested, and Hayley gets taken out of your house and put in
foster care. That is not an improvement on this situation."
She swallowed hard.
"You are asking me . . . to allow--" and she shot these words at me like
daggers "--my fifteen-year-old daughter . . . to continue sleeping with a man
who is older than I am."
"I'm not asking you to do anything. I just want you to appreciate the
reality of it."
"So I do nothing, and you get to go on screwing my daughters."
"And you get to continue having a halfway-normal relationship with them, and
you get to continue whatever arrangement it is you've worked out with your
husband."
"Very nice for you."
I took a sip of my drink to clear my throat.
"I would like you to recognize something. Before you showed up here, you
knew about none of this. I could have let it continue the way it had,
sneaking around and pretending Hayley hardly knew me. I could have tried
some other method to end this thing with her and risk having Marianne dump
what she had done on your heads. Instead, I came here and confessed to
having sex with your daughter. Do you recognize how far out my neck is here?
What a risk I am taking with this conversation? I am doing it because I
care about Hayley and Marianne. I care about their emotional and mental
health. I could not allow Marianne to do something she would regret the rest
of her life."
"You act as if she forced you into doing what you did with Hayley."
"No. She didn't. But no one forced you to sleep with Tiffany either."
She closed her eyes and shook her head.
"I know why Marianne picked her for this. She couldn't have been blind to
how I was acting around her. But she doesn't know everything. Tiffany . . .
when I was Marianne's age, long before I truly realized who I was, there was
a girl I knew who was a lot like her. I had an enormous crush on her for a
long time. It wasn't anything I understood until later. She was straight,
so there was no chance of anything happening even if I had understood what I
was really feeling. And when Marianne became friends with Tiffany, all this
baggage from my childhood came welling back up, all the uncertainty and
misery I had struggled with, all the unrequited emotions I had had for this
girl. Everything I thought I had dealt with in the past few years. I'm sure
Marianne sensed some of this, since she knows enough about me. So when
Tiffany came on to me last week, it was a like a dam broke. I don't think I
could have stopped had there been a gun to my head."
I nodded slowly.
"For what it's worth, I've talked to Tiffany about this. It wasn't a callous
seduction on her part. She feels bad about it. I think she does like you on
some level."
"For what little that's worth now," she said angrily.
"I want to tell you something that I have never told Marianne. I was never
sure how she would react to it. It was something similar to what you've just
told me. When I was in high school, there was a girl I knew, a beautiful
blonde cheerleader like Marianne. For whatever reason, I developed a crush
on her like you did with that girl. But I was a nobody, a random pothead who
hung out with the other losers. And instead of just ignoring me, she toyed
with me for nearly a month, pretending to flirt with me and then embarrassing
me. The one time I got up enough courage to ask her out, she pretended to
agree. And when I showed up that night, she had gotten the football team to
lie in wait for me. They beat the crap out of me and then threw me in a
dumpster behind the local grocery store, full of rotting garbage. I had to
limp all the way home smelling like an open grave."
For some reason Elizabeth's face had gone completely white, and she stared at
me as if she had seen a ghost. But I went on with my story.
"And when I met Marianne, that whole awful experience came back to me.
Except that she's nothing like that girl beyond the way she looks. I won't
pretend that the age difference isn't some level of turn-on for me. But that
is why. Because girls like Marianne treated me like shit when I was her
age."
The shock on Elizabeth's face finally penetrated my retrospection. She
gasped for breath as she stared at me.
"What's wrong?"
"Where did you go to high school?"
That was it, the one little trigger I needed. Something snapped in my head,
and everything rushed back into me in a flood. I suddenly realized why she
seemed so damned familiar.
The two us stared at each other as if we had never met. Except, of course,
we had.
"My maiden name was Dunbar," she said slowly. "And you used to have long
hair, didn't you?"
"Jesus fucking Christ."
"That was me. The cheerleader who got you beaten up."
"Yes."
"My God. I am so sorry. I felt so bad about that afterwards. I never meant
for them to take it that far."
I struggled against my shock, and Elizabeth looked away from me, still
shaking her head in amazement. After a few moments, I finally regained
enough composure to make some sense of this incredible coincidence.
"You know, I sometimes think that human beings aren't half as rational and
intelligent as we think we are. That we're really nothing more than
disorganized bundles of experiences and neuroses, just waiting for other
people to come along and push our buttons. People like Marianne and Tiffany.
I know this relationship is distasteful for you. But I do love your
daughter. I would never do anything to hurt her, or Hayley. I am sincerely
here to resolve this dilemma without their getting hurt."
She nodded slowly, sighing.
"So what do we do?"
"Nothing. We go on the way we have been. Hopefully this thing of Hayley's,
whatever it is, will run its course in a few months. She's too young to know
what she's really feeling. You can go on with whatever you've been doing.
If you were to call Tiffany and want to see her again, I really think she
would be receptive. She said some very nice things about you. And your
husband can continue doing whatever it is he's been doing."
She laughed softly.
"Screwing the checkout girls." She shook her head. "How much did Marianne
tell you about us?"
"Just that you nearly got divorced five years ago because you caught him with
one of his employees. And that she caught you with a friend of yours."
She nodded.
"That period was when I finally realized who I was. But I realized also that
I did not want to get divorced, for Marianne and Hayley's sake. We agreed
that we would simply live together as roommates and conduct our own business,
as long as we did it discreetly. I think now that I underestimated the
effect it would have on the girls. I think we could have handled this
better, not set that sort of example for them. I shouldn't have pretended
they wouldn't notice. But that's water under the bridge."
She looked away from me again, staring off into the sky.
"I know Marianne cares about you very much. That is what has made this so
hard. That I was losing her because of the mistakes I had made."
She exhaled slowly.
"I'll go along with this. For their sakes. But if you ever, *ever,* hurt
either one of them, no force on Earth will prevent me from making you pay for
it. No matter what they do to me."
"I know that. That's why I'm here."
"Don't worry about my husband. He pays no attention to what we do unless
something forces the issue. I think he's already decided that he's going to
ignore what Marianne does. Because it only makes him feel guilty about these
girls he exploits at work."
She turned back toward me and leaned forward over the table.
"I want to say one last thing. If you were somewhat younger, maybe
twenty-five or so, I would have no objection to this relationship. I've
always thought Marianne needed someone older and more responsible than she
is, to give her the sort of support and guidance she's never gotten from her
father. I just wish you were younger. I just wish she didn't feel like she
had to go looking for a surrogate father. But I guess you can't have
everything you want."
"I don't know that that's the sort of relationship we have."
"It's how it looks to me. But that's neither here nor there at this point.
She's an adult now. I can't really stop her from seeing you."
She stood up.
"I need to get back to work. I'll speak to Marianne and Hayley this
afternoon."
"Thank you. I mean that."
She nodded once, and then she was gone.
* * *
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