THE PROPOSITION - a romantic story by WTSman. What does a middle-aged widowed business man do when propositioned by a desperate teenager? George didn't know, so he played it by heart. Please note: There is very little sex in this story and none at all for the first many chapters. If you are looking for a short stroke story with lots of steamy sex then this story is not for you. (The sex IS steamy though, but it may not be to your liking!) Note also: All the sex depicted in this story is consensual, but there are references to rape - and its consequences. Site etiquette stipulates that you should be warned - and I agree with that. But there is absolutely no description of sexual violence - something the author abhors and condemns in the strongest possible way. _____________________________________ Chapter 1 "Are you looking for a good time?" The call wasn't overly loud and the cheerfulness seemed a little forced. I guessed it was just another teenager making a meager buck promoting some local amusement park. She was a teenager all right, and we were at a suburban shopping center in early February. But she'd chosen a strange place to promote her employer - this was a little used back passage to the parking house, and she'd chosen an unlikely potential customer. I was alone and I didn't exactly signal Family Wanting To Go To Amusement Park In Winter. I was in my late forties. Very late forties - the big five-o only six weeks away, and while reasonably youthful and well-kept, if I say so myself (and no one else does!), my hair was grey bordering on white. It runs in the family; my dad and his dad before him both started turning grey in their mid-thirties. When the same happened to me, my late wife, bless her, always said it made me look 'distinguished'. My daughters, both grown now and settled far away, had been somewhat less diplomatic. But I like to be kind, so I put on a smile and turned to the girl to politely receive her flier or whatever - which I would dispose of in an environmentally friendly way in the first available bin - and replied with a similar cheerfulness "Aren't we all?" Except there was no flier. She seemed confused and hesitant and did not try to make eye contact. I looked her over. She had long dirty-blonde hair gathered in a ponytail, and too much, if competently applied makeup. Quite good style, really if she toned it down a little and dropped the bright red lipstick which didn't suit her at all. I've always found it difficult to determine the age of teenaged girls, but I guessed she was around sixteen - though obviously trying to look older. Her clothes were ordinary. Not flashy and certainly none too clean. She had a short but warm winter coat on which she had zipped down quite a bit revealing a remarkable cleavage for a girl who was otherwise of medium build and height. Come to think of it, she was thicker around the waist than I would have expected from her lean face. Maybe it was just the coat. Or possibly she was too keen on milk shakes and French fries, but if so, she wasn’t getting a double chin from them. Somehow my looking her over made her shrink, but she drew breath and said in a low voice "So how about it?" "I beg your pardon?" I said - reverting to my urbane European voice. I am often mistaken for a Brit. My English is British, even if I am not. The change in voice somehow seemed to disconcert her even more, but she soldiered on. "I mean, you and I, should we, you know..." she trailed off I was stunned. "Are you trying to proposition me?" I blurted out - wondering if she even knew that word. Apparently she did. "Uh huh," she nodded. Still not looking me in the eye and seeming even younger. "Why would you be doing that?" I asked. Stupid question, really, but I was genuinely surprised. Living in big cities, I had certainly had offers from professional girls before, although I had never taken them up. But this was a teenager in respectable suburbia. "Just forget it," she said shrinking before my eyes, "just forget it." "I don't think I can," I said gently, "and I don't think I should either." She quickly looked up at me so I finally got to see her eyes - clear, deep blue, and beautiful. And very very scared. "Are you a cop?" she asked - panic in her voice. "No, my dear," I said. "I am not a cop. And you are clearly not a prostitute. So why would you proposition me?" Suddenly her eyes were full of tears, making her make-up run. "I need food and a place to sleep and I haven't got any money." "But surely your parents..." I started. She cut me off. "No!" she exclaimed. "They've thrown me out. I can't go back." As I mentioned, the passage we were standing in was not the busiest, but it was Friday night and other people were passing through. I even spotted a security guard who was looking in our direction. I didn't so much have to worry about meeting anyone I knew - a problem at a new client requiring on-site expertise had brought me out here for the first time today, and I had only stopped at this shopping center because I was late shopping for the weekend. But I didn't want to be mixed up in a potentially embarrassing situation with a teenager of questionable morals. "Listen," I said. "I'll feed you. I need to take my stuff back to my car, but after that we can go and have a meal - and you can tell me as little or as much as you like." She seemed to hesitate. "We’ve got to move on, or that security guard will get suspicious," I said nodding up the corridor. Startled, she looked in the direction I had indicated. "OK," she said, and we headed to the car park. She didn't say a word while I put my shopping in the back of the car. Luckily it was a cold night, so I didn't have to worry about my fresh stuff going bad. I returned my shopping cart to an already overflowing line and turned to her. "What would you like to eat?" I asked. "I don't know," she said. "What can I have?" "Anything," I replied. "Anything in return for a name. I am George, by the way." She thawed a little. "I'm Laura." "OK Laura, any preferences, or should we just go to the Food Court and look around?” She agreed to that with a nod. On the way up we passed the rest-rooms. I handed her a pack of tissues. "Perhaps you want to freshen up a little," I offered. She nodded. "Go a little easy on the lipstick," I suggested. She actually blushed. I braced myself for a longish wait, but she was back in a few minutes looking much better with less makeup. The din of the Food Court was deafening. It had the usual selection of junk food chains offering wholesale heart disease and instant obesity. To my surprise she headed to a Lebanese outlet and asked for a number of very healthy things - salads and lean meats and bread. My respect grew. I ordered from there too and got a few specialties for starters. Due to the noise, the serving lady misunderstood me and I ended up with rather a lot of food, but didn't worry too much - I could always take left-overs home. I asked Laura what she wanted to drink. "Water will be fine," she replied. "Or, um, I really should have some milk." "We don't have milk but you can get that over there," said the lady and pointed at an outlet at the other end of the court. Milk? I was getting more and more surprised. There had to be an interesting story here. I paid for the food; we crossed the Food Court with our Lebanese purchases on a tray and queued up at the other outlet to get the milk. "Are you having milk too?" Laura asked when I ordered. "Sure," I said. "I drink lots of it. Always have." It was her turn to look surprised. I started to look for somewhere to sit. The Food Court itself was very busy and almost full, but I spotted a deserted group of chairs and tables up a passage some distance away. "How about there?" I asked. "We might be able to talk without shouting up there." She agreed and before long we were unloading our hoard on a table in remarkable privacy. "This is quite a feast," I exclaimed. "Yup!" she agreed with something approaching animation in her voice and started to sit down. "Don't you want your coat off?" I asked. I had already taken mine off and extended a hand to take hers "Sure," she said, unzipped the last bit and shrugged out of her coat. I drew in breath sharply, finally understanding. This was not just another overweight American teenager. This was a pregnant teenager. About four months along, I guessed. She noticed my gaze. "You noticed, huh?" she asked, the animation gone from her voice. "Yes," I said. I was suddenly overwhelmed with concern and compassion for this girl. And determined to get her story and try to do something for her. I cannot explain why. Perhaps it was the 'nurturing gene' of being a father. Perhaps it was my loneliness. Whatever it was, I needed to gather my thoughts, and anyway, her first need before anything else was food. "Yes," I repeated. "I was unaware that I had two dinner guests. So stupid of me. My own kids were a long time ago, and I am not a grandfather yet." She smiled, and my heart melted. "I was trying to hide it," she admitted. "Anyway," I continued, "I am doubly glad you chose such healthy stuff. Let's eat." We sat down and unpacked the many boxes. She seemed to like the specialties I had bought, but in general she was just craving food - and lots of it, so our meal was largely silent. At least not many words were spoken. Eventually I thought questions were in order "Tell me about it...” I hazarded. She looked at me. "Why do you want to know?" "Perhaps I can help," I replied. "Why would you want to do that?" she started - suddenly looking guarded. Before I could answer that, she realized the inherent absurdity in that question. Less than an hour ago she had tried to proposition me for sex and now she was reluctant to tell me about herself. Those thoughts and emotions were reflected in her face; I could read her like an open book. "Sorry," she said. "I, I am not used to anyone being kind. Of course I will tell you." She did, and the story, if not exactly unusual, was interesting and very very sad. She was a high-school junior from a strictly religious home. Her parents had not let her date, but agreed to let a somewhat older guy from her Church's youth ministry program take her out with a group of other young people. Laura wanted to go out, even though she wasn't very keen on the guy whom at twenty three she found ancient. My lifted eyebrows made her giggle, put the merriment was short-lived. The 'date' had been uneventful at first - they had gone to see a movie ('deadly boring'); he'd been well-behaved and had largely kept his hands to himself. But instead of going to a cafe with the other 'Church couples' as originally planned and approved by her parents, he had driven them to a local lovers' lane and all the good manners were gone. What happened next could only be described as rape. She returned home battered and bruised, but hid it from her parents and told no-one what had happened. She had been a virgin; two weeks after the rape she failed to get her period and after a further couple of weeks she worked up the courage to get a pregnancy test which came up positive. She was going to be a mother during the summer between her junior and senior year. Unlike her parents, as it would turn out, her belief in the sanctity of life was absolute and never for a second did she consider having an abortion. Not that she thought her parents would have gone along with the idea, but it was never in her mind. "You probably think I am immature and throwing away my life," she challenged. "No," I replied. "I am strong believer in a woman's right to choose. I am also very much in favor of choosing life when at all possible. So I don't think you are immature at all." That seemed to puzzle her. "You can't have it both ways," she exclaimed, with all the dogma of a teenager. "You are either Pro Choice or Pro Life!" "I can and I do," I countered. "And no, life is not black and white; few things are." She thought about that for a moment and then continued her story. The next couple of weeks were very difficult; she suffered terribly from morning sickness. Still she told no-one and didn't even consider reporting the incident. She was sure no-one would believe her and she was seemingly unaware that given her age and the age difference, technically she had been raped - even if she couldn't prove her lack of consent. I didn't tell her that until much later; I wanted to get her story and see if there was anything I could do for her. She tried to stay healthy. Her intelligence and extensive knowledge (she was a straight A student) came to her and her baby's aid. While other teenagers used their pocket money to buy sweets, she was buying vitamins with folic acid. And while other teenagers were eating junk food and drinking sodas, she chose the healthiest food she could find and drank milk. And still she told no-one. "But surely you would have to tell your parents sooner or later," I prompted. She knew that, of course. Thinking that her parents’ religious beliefs were as genuine as her own, she thought that Christmas - the celebration of the Nativity - would be a good time. She could hardly have been more wrong. They screamed and yelled at her and called her every bad name she'd never heard and several she hadn't. They wouldn't hear one word against her rapist and blamed her absolutely for 'her condition', as they called it and heaped all blame for the 'shame that would be brought upon them' on her. She had expected them to be upset and angry; what she had never thought would happen was that they demanded she have an abortion. The shock had been profound. "I told them 'no way'!" she said quietly, but vehemently. "I was only about 11 weeks, but I lied to them and said it was too late for that." They had next exclaimed that in that case she would be sent away to have 'her baby in shame' (those were their very words). The baby would then be put up for adoption and she could return to finish her senior year in school 'without anyone knowing'. Her protests were ignored and her parents had started to draw on their Church connections for a 'suitable place'. "Those days between Christmas and New Year were hell," she said quietly. "First they wanted to kill my baby and when that couldn't be done then they wanted to give it away. It was like I wasn't there. My opinion didn't count." A week or so into January they had found a farm up north that accepted 'fallen women' (again I was stunned at this 19th century vocabulary) and her parents started making plans for sending her off. This is when she fled. She had taken what money and valuables she had and a few clothes in a backpack and left. She had spent her days looking for a job, and otherwise she'd been hiding herself at the public library reading and studying, not daring to go to school. For a while she had spent the nights with friends, but few were willing and able to have her staying over on school nights and she had rapidly gone through her meager funds on cheap accommodation. The job hunting was fruitless, which didn't surprise me in the present economic climate. Early on, one friend's father had been hitting on her, almost slobbering over her rapidly growing breasts. She was disgusted, but when the last money was gone and she had no more of value to take to the pawn shop, she remembered the episode and thought she might support herself and the growing baby by selling her body. At no stage had she considered seeking help from public authorities, charities or her school. "They would all side with my parents and force me to put my baby up for adoption," she said when I asked. "Besides, the charities are all Church-related and the counselors at school will tell your parents everything right away." Reconciling herself to the idea of prostitution was hard; she had put it off for a couple of days but in the end she was desperately hungry and knew her baby needed her to be fed. I was to be her first customer. "You looked kind. I was hoping you wouldn't hurt me," she said. "Nor will I," I said heavily. "Ever." The finality of that statement made her look up at me, and her big blue eyes were again filled with tears. "Listen," I said. "I am sure we can work on your parents. But until then you need somewhere to stay. There is no way I will let you prostitute yourself. The risks both to you and to your unborn child are immense. If you will let me help you, I can put you up at least for a while. Would you trust me?" She was at the end of her tether and in no state to argue, but still she asked "But what about your family?" "I am a widower and live alone," I said. "I have a large apartment in town. Much too large, really. There is plenty of space for you too. Will you come?” "Yes please," she said and continued almost in a whisper. "Yes please. Thank you God." Chapter 2 "OK," I said. "Let's be practical. What clothes and stuff do you have, and where is it?” So far I had only seen a small handbag. "My pack is in one of the free lockers downstairs," she said, "but there isn't much in it - mainly some clothes and they are all dirty. As are these," she said, indicating her clothes and shuddering. "Well, that is not a problem," I replied cheerfully. "We're in a shopping center and the shops are open." "But I don't have a cent," she cried. "Duh, I know that," I countered. "Didn't I just tell you I was going to help you?" I continued and headed into one of those gigantic department stores that have absolutely everything. The shopping expedition was memorable and brought happy memories of similar trips with my daughters years back. Unlike many other males, I don't mind shopping with teenagers and the change in Laura's demeanor was astounding. If you don't believe in 'shopping therapy', you should have been there! We started getting a complete set of toiletries. She headed for the cheap no-name generics, but I asked her what brands she liked and it was quality stuff. Not ultra-expensive, but certainly good respectable brands. Once more I was delighted with her care in picking products free of substances potentially dangerous to her baby. If only her parents could see her through my eyes - they ought to be proud. A few low-allergy cosmetics went into the cart last. "That more or less completes the toiletries," I said. "You obviously won't need pads or tampons for the foreseeable future, but some panty liners would be a good idea." Blushingly she grabbed a couple of packs. "And don't forget a razor," I said. "Do you prefer a blade or an electric?" She looked at me quizzically. "How come you know so much? My dad would have no idea that women shave their legs. And other places," she added more hesitantly. "I was married for twenty years," I said. "I have two grown daughters. Besides, I'm sure your father knows - he just doesn't talk about such things. I do, but then I'm not American." "Figures," she said and picked a cheap Philips Lady Shaver. "Don’t get that model," I said. "Get a cordless one. I don't want you to be electrocuted in the bath." This time she didn't protest. "There is a decent hair drier in your bathroom and I have tons of towels, but you should get a nice dressing gown," I said. "My bathroom?" she asked but getting no answer she selected an oversized fluffy white dressing gown. "OK, clothes time!" I said with relish. She stared at me. "Are you sure you're for real?" "You'd better believe it. What's your size?” I said as we got to the underwear section. "Um, small I think, but I am sort of growing." She blushed once more. "Duh! We'll get a dozen undies in size medium then,” I said. "'Undies'?" she asked. "Sorry. I guess you call them 'panties'." I corrected. "As I said, I am not native." "Figures!" she replied. That seemed to be a favorite term of hers. "Get half a dozen tee-shirts and half a dozen other tops," I said. She complied and got socks, stockings and similar mysteries without my prompting. "You don't exactly need maternity wear yet," I said, "but do get something comfortable. Stretchy jeans or pants and dresses and so on." Again she looked like she was going to protest, but then shook her head and found some nice stuff which she went to try on. Her eye for size had been good and she didn't need to return any of it. "I am sure glad," she said. "The shop would be furious, I do stink." "Easily fixed once we're home," I said unworried. "Have you got other shoes than those you're wearing?" I asked, eyeing her worn sneakers which seemed singularly unsuitable for the season. "No," she said, looking pained again. "Well, get some," I said with mock impatience. "What are you waiting for?" She found a sturdy, but nice pair of shoes and at my insistence also a pair of winter boots. "Get some slippers too," I urged. "I don't like outdoor shoes in our apartment and the floors can be cold." "Our apartment?" she asked, but again she got no answer and picked a comfy pair of slippers. "Let's see," I said, "we still have to find some jumpers, I mean sweaters, or sweatshirts or what not, and a winter coat than can actually close around both of you would be good." She smiled and complied. Again I was pleased with her choices. The kid had style. "OK, what do you wear to bed?" I asked, "and don't say 'Channel No 5' - I have perfume allergy." "Well, actually, I prefer an old fashioned flannel night gown in winter," she said archly. "Can I get one of those?" "Better get two," I said. After some hunting we found them. "Well, that more or less completes your immediate needs," I said, "with one exception." She nodded assent to the first part of the statement, but looked questioningly at me over the last. This was delicate. "I don't want you to think I am anything like your friend's father," I started, "but it is rather obvious that your bra is much too small for you." I had expected a blush and got one, but in addition I got a look of pure wonder from those piercing blue eyes. "You're not anything like Joan's sleazy dad. And yes, I do need another bra. My boobs must have grown three cup-sizes in the past three months." "Well, in that case they are likely to stay more or less the same until just before the baby comes," I said, drawing on past experience. She nodded. "Go over to the lingerie department and get them to help you with the fitting," I continued. "You should find a couple of practical and comfortable bras, but you should also get something frivolous. The months ahead will be difficult. We should work on strategies for making you feel good about yourself." Her eyes filled with tears again. Being quick to tears is not unusual for any pregnant woman at the best of times. For Laura, her first trimester must have been the worst of times and there was a lot of pent up emotion bursting to come out. With a thick voice she said "OK" and headed over to the lingerie section. I expected a long wait, but once more she was remarkably efficient and returned before long with three white full-cupped bras and something flimsy midnight blue. "The woman was really nice and helpful. She either had a bad cold or somehow managed to overlook my smell. Oh, and I, um, I got a set of the ..." she trailed off, revealing that the flimsy blue was actually not one but two garments. "I hope you don't mind." "It's fine," I said deadpan. "Operation 'Being Good To Laura' starts this evening." "And how!" she muttered. The cart was more or less full now. In her absence I had found a good sturdy leather suitcase and swung it up on top. "What's that for?" she asked. "Well, if at any time you want to leave you should be able to take your clothes. So this is for you." "And what if I never want to leave?" Laura asked in a very small voice. "In that case you'll find the suitcase useful when we go travelling." The tears started again. She recovered while we queued up at the check-out, but once the final amount showed up on the display she broke down again. "Don't worry about that," I said and handed the check-out lady a credit card. "Don't worry about a thing." "But it is such a lot of money," she cried. "Don't worry about that. I can afford it, and you need it!" That was true - I could afford it. I am an IT-security expert and run my own little business. Our clients are top corporations with extraordinary needs for security and thus not always known to the general public. We never advertise but are always busy. And the money is good. You know, the classic 'If you have to ask what we charge you can't afford it'. Until that point there had been no physical contact between us. But now Laura stood close to me, her forehead against my shoulder. I was absentmindedly stroking her greasy hair with one hand while working the pin code with the other. The check-out lady smiled. She obviously took us for daughter and estranged father making up for lost time. "OK," I said when we got out of the department store. "That was fun. We might possibly need a few more food stuffs too. At least some more milk. I have bought plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables already, but if there is anything you particularly like to eat then just let me know. Like breakfast stuff and so on." She hesitated. "I don't know. What do you eat for breakfast yourself?" she asked. "Oh, it varies," I replied. "Quite often just muesli and fruit, but I bake most weeks - I like bread with homemade jams too." She stared in wonder. "You bake? And make jams?" "Sure," I replied. "I prefer to know what I eat. I used to have a garden and grow my own fruit. Making jams is fun!" She did some thinking. Evidently, I was way outside her experience. She was busy revising what to expect from adult males. "I'm almost out of the pregnancy vitamins," she said. "We can get more of those if you like, but now that you're entering your second trimester getting folic acid is not quite so critical - with lots of leafy green vegetables in your diet you should be fine." She nodded. Getting a healthy diet on a regular basis had been a struggle for the last month. She seemed to need a little time to adjust to the idea that her immediate problems were over. Fair enough; she had no reason whatever to trust me or believe that I was going to do all those things for her. We got the milk, some more fruit and more of those leafy greens. "I have fish and meat in the freezer," I said. "But I don't eat very much of that - I am a quasi-vegetarian." "Sounds good," she said. "I was never too keen on meats myself, but I couldn't make my parents eat beans and pulses - no matter how Biblical such things are." "Most people don't even know what pulses are," I laughed, "but you'll get plenty of those at my place." We retrieved her bag, got to the car, loaded our purchases into the trunk and drove off. "Perhaps a few more personal details are in order," I said. "I'm George Bernhard Smith. I'm a forty nine year old widowed father of two grown daughters and an IT-security executive," I added with mock formality. "I am Laura Elizabeth Jones," she replied in the same tone. "I'm a sixteen year old single mother-to-be and a high-school drop-out." "Not if I have anything to say about it," I countered. "Let's get you settled in and then see what we can do about school." "But I've been gone for a month, so they might not take me back at all - and surely they would ring my parents the second I turned up," she said in alarm. "As I said, we need to sort out a lot of things. And that includes talking to your parents," I replied. "No!" she exclaimed. "If they find me, they will want to give my baby away." She was tense and frightened again now. I cursed myself for forcing the issue too quickly and so clumsily. "Laura, sweetheart. That is not going to happen. I promise. But I simply have to let your parents know where you are. It's the law. You are under age and keeping you from you natural guardians without their knowledge or consent is a felony. I can't help you if I'm in jail." "What do you mean by 'it is not going to happen'? How can you be so sure? What if they demand that I am sent to that stupid farm for 'fallen women'?" she challenged. "You have no rights to block that!" "I don't think it will come to that," I replied. "They wanted to send you away. Well, you will be away when you're living with me. As to school, well - I think it would be the easiest solution if you carried on at your present school until the summer break." She was about to argue, so I hastened on. "But if that won't work - either because the school won't take you, or because your parents won't let you be there where your 'shameful condition' is plain for all to see" - that last bit said in a mock sanctimonious voice - "well, then there are other schools. Plenty of them where I live and you would be spared the commute." She thought about that for a while. "What if they won't see it that way?" she asked. "Let's cross that bridge when we get to it," I replied. "We can always resort to check-book diplomacy." That was rewarded with a small smile. She was still too worried to relax, but once more she was starting to adapt to new possibilities. "The other thing we need to see to rather urgently is pre-natal care," I said after a while. "Pregnancy is not an illness and you are young and fit and healthy, but you should still be checked over for blood pressure and hemoglobin count and all those other things." "I suppose so," she said. "And while it is still a long way off, we need to give some thoughts to where you want to give birth." A scary prospect for sure, but it had to be mentioned. "I don't even know if I have a medical insurance..." she faltered. "We'll have to find out," I said. "Once more, the formal and correct way is through your parent's health plan. As long as you are under age and unmarried it should cover you, even if you are living outside the home for school purposes. But the devil is in the details, so we need to find out." "What if they won’t cooperate, or have cancelled my coverage, or the plan doesn't cover pregnancy and birth?" she asked - all her worries were now coming up and out in the open. "You mean if they have chosen a plan that is based on the principle that good girls don't get pregnant out of wedlock?" I asked lightly. "I wouldn't put it past them," she replied, still tense. "In that case I will work something else out," I said. "How many times do I have to tell you that I will help you?" "But isn't pregnancy and childbirth extremely expensive in health care terms?" she asked. "I can't let you bankrupt yourself over me!" I smiled. She was a good girl and very bright. And she had a point. Obviously even to me complications in connection with child-birth could prove ruinous. But she didn't have all the facts. "I have a solution to that too. I will simply hire you. The health plan in my company covers pre-existing conditions for new employees." "Hire me?" she asked in wonder. "Yes," I said with an ear-to-ear grin. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do in the first place?" "Oh you!" she squealed and threw a pack of tissues at me. We laughed for the rest of the journey. Chapter 3 When we got to my apartment building I pressed a remote control to open the gate to the underground parking and started going down the ramp. She was craning her neck to take in the building itself. Little 'oohs' and 'wows' were escaping her mouth. In the clean and well-lit basement, I started unloading the car. "It will be easier if we put most of your new stuff in the suitcase," I said and opened it. "Oh look! It comes with matching toilet bag and beauty box," she exclaimed in delight, reverting to attention to details much closer to what was natural to her age and gender. Her joy thrilled me. It was not too late to make her happy. We quickly had everything organized and went over to the elevator, managing - just - the suitcase, the backpack and the many additional shopping bags between us. "Which floor?" she asked, her finger hovering near the panel. "Take the ground floor," I replied. "There is someone you need to meet." Puzzled she complied and we went up just one floor and got out in the lobby. "Wow," she said under her breath, studying the 1920s decor of shiny marble and highly polished brass. "This is fancy." "It is a very nice place," I agreed. "And I want you to meet the doorman if he is still on duty." "Ramone!" I called. "Are you still there or has Debbie dragged you out for a night on the town?" A large African American appeared. "Good evening Mr. George," he said in that funny anachronistic way of his. He is anything but servile, but he greets the tenants like it was still the 1920s. "How nice of you to ask," he continued. "No Debbie has deserted me - she is visiting her folks upstate this weekend, so I'm still here." He looked inquiringly at Laura. "Ramone, this is Laura Jones. She doesn’t exactly see eye to eye with her parents just now, so she will be staying with me for a while. I would lend her my spare keys except Joyce has them. So I would like you to have a set made for Laura." "Why certainly. Welcome Miss Laura. I will get your keys first thing Monday morning - the lock people don't work Saturdays and Sundays except in emergencies. Will that be OK?" "Yes, that is fine," I replied. "We won't be going our separate ways until Monday." I didn't mean any innuendo with that statement, and Ramone certainly didn't bat an eyelid over it. "That's fine. If Miss Laura goes out Monday morning then she can simply get the keys from me when she returns - I'll have them ready by 10 AM." He turned to me. "Will you want Miss Laura's name on the board?" he asked, indicating the stylish silk-printed directory of tenants. "Yes," I replied. "I will. It is 'Laura Elizabeth Jones' - got that?" "Sure thing" said Ramone and noted it down on a pad. "Those signs are also done by the lock people. With luck I can have that done Monday morning too." "We would appreciate that," I said warmly. "Laura is in need of a sense of home." Ramone's eyes discreetly scanned her abdomen. His already mild countenance softened even further. "Sure thing," he said again. "Let me help you get your stuff up to the apartment," and he grabbed the suitcase, Laura's pack and half our shopping bags like they were weightless and got them in the elevator. "If you could press the number six button, Miss Laura. Thank you." We went up in silence. "Here we are!" said Ramone. "Good night Miss Laura, good night Mr. George." He left us outside my apartment and went down with the elevator again. "Is yours the only apartment?” Laura asked looking around and seeing only one labeled door. I nodded. "You mean, like, you have the entire floor?" she continued - incredulity clear in her voice. "I told you I had a large apartment," I replied almost defensively, "with plenty of room for you too." "I know you did," she said. "But I only thought you said that to be friendly." "Sometimes people can be friendly while being completely truthful," I said airily and opened the door. Reporting all Laura's 'oohs' and 'wows' while I showed her the apartment would be repetitive. But if you have seen the film 'Pink Floyd: The Wall' and remember the scene where 'Pink' has taken the groupie home to his hotel suite, you get the idea. And let's face it: I do have a very nice place. The apartment, as Laura had discovered, occupies the entire sixth floor of the building and is U-shaped, surrounding a court yard with a garden and a few very old and very tall trees that almost reach my floor. The front has the entrance door which opens into a narrow corridor leading to a sort of hall to one side and past a decent sized room to the other which I use as my office. In that way 'commercial visitors' will not enter my private space. Facing the street are three huge connected rooms. Two of these are living rooms and the third a dining room. The corridor runs along the two living rooms, then turns and runs along the outside of the eastern wing past a very large room I use as - and call - my Library, then past a spare room, my bathroom and dressing room leading to the master bedroom at the end. The dressing room is accessible directly from the bedroom and further on to the bathroom. I obviously didn't take her up that wing, but simply said, “This is where I live,” after having shown her the Library. On the other side of the apartment, the dining room is semi-open to a large kitchen occupying the entire width of that wing. Thus the 'hall' has doors leading to the kitchen, the dining room and the middle living room in addition to a guest toilet. A corridor on the outside of the west wing starts at the kitchen and runs past a room I use as a pantry, a laundry, a bathroom, two small bedrooms and ending up in a large bedroom with an adjacent room probably intended to be a dressing room or wardrobe, but quite large - so large it has a window. It was to the large bedroom I took Laura after having deposited our food in the kitchen and put the cold stuff away. "Do you think you could live here?" I asked. "It is not really furnished with anything but a bed and small table and chair just now," I added, "but we can do something about that over the weekend if you like." She was speechless and could just nod, her eyes brimming with tears for the umpteenth time tonight. "Actually, I was thinking," I continued, "that we might put the bed in the 'wardrobe' - it is plenty big for a single bed and a dressing table - and there are cupboards along the entire corridor, so we don't need to put any in that room. Then we could furnish this as proper sitting, 'eh living room for you with a desk and a couple of bookshelves and a sofa and a coffee table." She could only nod, but smiled happily through the tears. "Now, I don't know how long you will want to stay," I continued, "but if you are still here when the baby comes then we could convert one of the small bedrooms next door into a perfectly nice nursery." At that suggestion she broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably. We sat down on the bed; I put my arm around her and stroked her hair gently until she had calmed down. "I, I," she started, but the tears defeated her again and she was almost stamping her foot in frustration and annoyance. ”I feel so stupid" she burst out. "Laura, sweetheart," I said gently. "You are not stupid. What you have been through, no one should ever have to go through, particularly not a perfectly sweet and innocent sixteen year old girl, and particularly not alone." "I would be lying to you," I continued, "if I told you all your troubles were over. But at least for now you can stop worrying about a lot of practical things and let an adult take care of those. That is how it should be." "But why you?" she said. "Why would you be doing all this for me? What's in it for you?" "I honestly don't really know," I replied. "I am still working on that one. Perhaps it is just that I have come to realize I've been alone too long." "When did you work that out?" she asked. "Oh, about three hours ago," I said and went to get her stuff. *** "What you need now is a long warm bath, a really good soak," I lectured when I got back. "Here are a couple of towels. Your new clothes ought to be washed before you wear them, or they may irritate your skin, so the flannels and the bath robe will have to wait, but I dug out an oversized tee-shirt of mine that you can sleep in and you can borrow my dressing gown just for now." She nodded. "But don't get ideas - it's mine!" I added sternly. "Sounds like bitter experience?" she queried. "And how! - wait 'till you meet my daughters" I laughed. That thought seemed to disconcert her. "What will they make of me?" she asked. "Didn't I tell you you were not allowed to worry about anything more tonight?" I chided, but I actually did worry what they - and everyone else - would think of this arrangement. Pleading simple Christian Charity was unlikely to cut much ice with anyone, and I wasn't totally sure of my motives. Even Ramone might have one or two things to say once things had settled - that was the kind of friendship we had. And Joyce, my indispensable secretary, whom I would happily have married had she been so inclined, would also put me through the wringer. Between those two and my daughters I was in for a hard time - and that was even before we had to face the real enemies in the form of Laura's parents and an endless row of officials. "I can't help you with underwear," I went on relentlessly. "It will be months and months before you will be anywhere near my size, so you will just have to wear one of the new pairs unwashed, but the rest should be washed and dry and ready tomorrow. Now off you go," and I shooed her to the bathroom. "And you said this was my bathroom?" she asked in disbelief. "Sure," I said. "I never come here, so you can take up all the space on all the shelves if you like. And do take your time. I defy you to use all the hot water - it simply can't be done!" "Deal," she said and started running a hot tub bath. "It's a deal." I left her and got on with the unpacking and washing of her new clothes. Next I found her backpack and emptied the main compartment out on the floor of her bedroom. I quickly sorted the clothes with the idea of washing them with the new clothes of like colors, but it was obvious that they needed a heck of lot more washing than the ultra-quick program I was planning to use just to get the shiny chemicals out of the new stuff. Oh well, there were going to be quite a few loads before we were through. At the bottom of the backpack I found a crumpled piece of paper. It was a receipt from a pawn shop in Laura's suburb for a loan against some jewelry. I quickly searched the other pockets in the pack for similar receipts and even checked her handbag, feeling rather guilty about it, but there were no other to be found. Her purse was empty too apart from various IDs - I could find no receipts, but I put a wad of cash in it. I had no reason to disbelieve her when she said she had been at the pawn shop several times, so I simply assumed the other receipts had been lost. Oh well, if these trinkets could be saved then at least I would do that for her. I made up her bed, placed her new slippers outside the bathroom door and went to spray her new boots with silicon spray - my experience as father and husband telling me that this simple precaution was unlikely to be remembered. That done, I returned to the kitchen and put away the remaining shopping. I got on with making dough for bread. She had seemed incredulous that I baked. I wanted to show her it was true. I was just putting the dough in the fridge for slow rising when the door opened and she came in. I turned around and the world stood still. To call her just beautiful doesn't do justice to the vision before me. Her hair was now shiny and almost flaxen blond. It hung loose and gathered in soft curls around her face. All the grime of weeks of hard living was gone; her skin honey colored with a rosy touch to her cheeks. She was wearing my tee-shirt and dressing gown and the woolly slippers - hardly sexy or alluring attire, but there was a natural beauty and calmness about her that made my heart ache. She looked at me with those deep blue eyes "What?" she asked. My mouth was dry. I didn't know what to say. "Oh Laura," I finally croaked. "You're beautiful!" "No one has ever said that to me before," she said, looking bewildered. "Their loss!" I muttered and then recovered. She did not need me to be like Joan's father. "Did you enjoy your bath?" "And how," she sighed. "It was like being born again." "That's good," I said lamely. "What you need now is good long sleep. There will be freshly baked bread for breakfast. I hope the washing machine doesn’t keep you awake." "I don't think anything will," she smiled, gave me a quick peck on the cheek and turned to go. "Good night and thank you. Thank you for everything." I stayed up for a couple of hours, getting most of her clothes and some of mine washed and put in the drier. In her discarded jeans I found another receipt from the pawn shop, this time for a mobile phone - a serious sacrifice for any teenager, but Laura had put her baby first. Retrieving the 'phone would be great - it might have contacts and photos on it that meant something to her! I kept thinking about her and getting more and more unsure what I was up to. Exhausted, I went to bed sometime after midnight. In my dream she came to my bedroom standing beside the bed just looking at me. *** I woke up just after 9 and went to the kitchen to bake the rolls for breakfast. The oven was ready; it had been programmed to go on hours ago. I set the rolls baking and got on with preparing breakfast. I was trying to be quiet, but either the noise - or the smell of freshly baked bread - woke up Laura and she came in to the kitchen in the same attire as last night, her hair a little ruffled and with sleep in her eyes. The sleepiness only added to her beauty - I felt lost. "Something smells fantastic," she said. "Someone looks fantastic," I countered. "Flatterer," she said. "I look like a beached whale." "No, sweetheart," I said. "'Beached whale' is not for another four or five months." We both laughed. "You're sweet," she said kissing me lightly on the cheek. "I haven't felt this good about myself or anything for months." "I am so glad," I replied. "That was the whole idea." I changed the subject. "The rolls are just out of the oven so have some yoghurt and fruit first while they cool. It's good for both of you." Her youthful - and pregnant - appetite astonished me, but eventually even she was defeated. She loved the home-baked rolls and the home-made jams. "This is soo good," she fawned over the raspberry jam. "What is the secret?" "Fruit," I replied. "Just fruit. Commercial stuff is so full of sugar because that is cheaper than fruit." "You mean something this good is even healthy?" she asked. I nodded. "In moderation. Anyway, are you up to some furniture shopping today?" Again she was hesitant and defensive "You don't have to have all these extra expenses on account of me." "Can we bury that one once and for all?" I asked with just a touch of exasperation in my voice. "You're going to spend quite a lot of hours here, and even though the entire apartment is at your disposal, it will be nice for you to have your own space, don't you think?" "Yes, but..." she started. I held up my hand to stop her. "It gives me pleasure 'spoiling' you. Will you let me have that pleasure? Please?" She gave in. "Sure, I'd love to." Then she laughed. "I guess I can get used to this." *** The shopping expedition was uneventful. True to my Scandinavian background, we went to IKEA and - miraculously - got everything we wanted. The same-day delivery people got to the apartment almost the same time we did and left a minor mountain of cardboard boxes. The utterly indispensable Ramone helped me get everything assembled and set up. Our mock-abuse of each other’s skills and our highly exaggerated lamentations over the moronic nature of IKEA's instructions had Laura in stitches. She was getting happier by the hour. Ramone stayed for dinner and by the time he said good night, he and Laura were firm friends. After the exertion of assembling her new furniture, I needed a shower and requested - with mock formality - the return of my dressing gown. She complied with some reluctance. "It is so cozy," she said, "and it smells of you." Realizing what she had just said, she blushed profusely. "But I'm sure the new one is nice too" she added hastily to cover her tracks. "I hope so," I smiled and headed for my wing. I took my time in the bathroom - I had some serious thinking to do. We met back in the kitchen a while later. Laura had followed my example and showered and was standing in her dressing gown pouring boiling water in a large teapot just as I walked in. "Brilliant," I said. "I was just going to do that." "I thought a cup of tea before bed would be nice," she replied. "I found a tin labeled 'Evening Tea' and decide to use that. I hope that's OK with you? It smells great." "That's my own blend," I replied. "I don't in general like flavored teas, but this is a mix of lemon peel, orange peel and Earl Grey. It is very relaxing and doesn't keep me awake." She put two mugs on a tray and got the milk from the fridge. She had taken her morning tea black, but she had obviously noticed I liked mine white. For sure, it was only a little thing, but I was getting more and more fond of her sweet and considerate nature. I carried the tray and we settled in the middle living room. The other one was my 'den' and had a giant TV, but TV was not on the agenda. We drank our tea in companionable silence for a while, both knowing that we had to talk about a few things. "Just over 24 hours since we met," I opened. "What do you think of that?" She laughed - a sweet pearly laugh. "I can't believe it isn't longer. So much has happened and it has all been good." I smiled. "You certainly seem much happier than yesterday. And I am glad I have played a role in that. But there are a few difficult things we need to deal with." The smile gradually faded. She nodded. "Yes, I suppose. My parents." "Indeed," I concurred. "Your parents. Tomorrow we will have to give them a call." "It frightens me!" she said. "What if all this has been in vain? What if I am forced up north tomorrow? What can I say to avoid that?" "You could let me try to call them," I replied. "I am fairly used to 'difficult conversations' in my line of work." "Would you?" she asked. "Would you really do that for me on top of all the other things?" "I don't think there is anything I wouldn't do for you," I said. "I am getting that feeling too," she said, "and don't get me wrong - I love that. I just can't understand why." "I think we talked about that already yesterday," I replied. "Having you here just feels right." There was a brief silence. "So..." I said, "I ring your parents?" She nodded. "Tomorrow?" She nodded again. "Just after breakfast?" She shrugged. "They won't be in Church then?" She shook her head. "No, that's in the afternoon." "Do you want to listen in, or should I do it alone?" I asked. She seemed to hesitate. "I think I would rather not be there," she replied. I nodded. We finished up the tea and I took the tray back to the kitchen. She seemed preoccupied. "Good night sweetheart," I said. She pulled herself together. "Good night," she replied and kissed me on the cheek again. *** I had the dream again. She came to my bedroom, this time in her new dressing gown, standing beside the bed just looking at me. Chapter 4 Breakfast Sunday morning was slightly later than Saturday and she was tense throughout, although that didn't affect her appetite. When we had finished it was half past ten. "OK," I said. "Time to get it done and over with. Can you give me your home number?" I handed her a pen and a pad of paper and she wrote it down. "What are your parents’ names?" I asked. "Nora and James," she replied. "But I'm sure Mom will do all the talking." "That's fine," I said and headed to my office. I gathered my thoughts, activated a digital recording device and called the number. It was answered after the third ring. "Yes?" a female voice said. I cleared my throat. "Mrs. Jones? My name is George Smith. I am ringing about your daughter Laura, and I am recording this conversation. I need your consent for that." "What about my daughter?" she asked in a voice more hostile than concerned. "I cannot enter into that discussion without your consent to the recording," I insisted. "Why do you want to record it?" she asked. "For two reasons," I replied. "The first is I may need legal proof this conversation took place. The second is we may both need evidence later as to what was actually said." "And if I do not consent?" she challenged. This was going to be a 'difficult conversation' all right. "In that case I will end the conversation and erase the recording." "OK, go ahead," she said after a brief pause. "What is it about my daughter?" "I made your daughter's acquaintance on Friday night and offered her shelter. She accepted and is now staying in my apartment," I started. "I understand that she is in violent disagreement with you and your husband over her future and that of her unborn child and has decided to leave home." There was a grunt on the phone. I ignored it and continued. "She is however a minor and you as her parents are her natural guardians. The first legal objective of this call is thus to inform you where she is and assure you that she is free to leave whenever she so wishes and that you can have access to her whenever you so wish. I'll give you my details - perhaps you could find pen and paper." After a little while she was back on the line and I mentioned my address and telephone numbers. She still offered nothing, so I decided to up the ante a bit. "I understand from talking to Laura that your disagreement even extends to your view of her rapist." That got her going. "Don't you dare! She wasn't raped. She is a slut and seduced Michael. He is the nicest young man you could imagine. He is the nephew of our Pastor, we have known him for years, and..." "Mrs. Jones," I interjected. "Neither you nor I were present at your grandchild's conception, so we cannot know what happened although we can guess. And you and I have obviously decided to believe opposite versions. But that is not my point at all. Your daughter is sixteen Michael is twenty three. Under the laws of this state, Michael is guilty of rape. Since he knows your family so well, he cannot plead ignorance as to Laura's age. He has committed a felony. A DNA sample from Laura's baby will prove his guilt at any time. He cannot run away." That sank in, but she was still combative. "What is the purpose of your call Mr. Smith?" I softened my voice. "My hope was that I could make you remember that you are Laura's mother. Laura is young, frightened and pregnant against her will. She so obviously is in need of parenting, and while I will happily and willingly support and comfort her, I cannot 'mother' her. Even if my dear wife was alive, she couldn't quite give Laura that - only you can." There was silence on the line. I continued. "Obviously you are not able to do that just now. Listen, you and your husband seem unwilling to have her around. Laura cannot agree to the alternative you have suggested. I was hoping then that we could compromise and you would give your consent to the present arrangement." "What exactly is the 'present arrangement'?" she asked icily. The innuendo was barely veiled, but I decided not to take the bait. "Oh, that's simple enough. The arrangement is that I provide shelter, food, clothing, you name it - take care of all her needs in fact, for as long as Laura and her baby need it." "What's in it for you?” she challenged. "A difficult question Mrs. Jones," I replied. "Try Matthew 25:40, Mrs. Jones. Or perhaps verse 45 in your case." I could hear the tell-tale sound of pen scratching on paper. She would have to look up the Gospel of Matthew when the conversation ended. I always found it amusing that supposedly deeply religious people know their Bible so poorly. She chose a different line of attack. "I find it highly inappropriate that a sixteen year old girl should be staying with an adult man - a complete stranger!" That was so pathetic it was almost amusing. I wisely suppressed a chuckle and steeled my voice. "Mrs. Jones, I don't think a discussion of what is appropriate is in your interest. Not at all. You seem to want discretion at all cost, even the cost of the welfare of your child and grandchild. I am offering you that discretion - no matter how misguided your wish is - in return for allowing Laura to make her own decisions. I was hoping you could also agree to let Laura return to her own school. She will obviously have to take most if not all of next school year off, but there is no reason in the world why she should not complete her junior year." The thought seemed to horrify her. "I will not have her waddle around here for all to see!" she exclaimed. "I though as much," I replied. "No matter, she can be transferred to a school near me. There is a perfectly good high school two blocks away. It is run by Roman Catholic nuns who take the sanctity of life and the absolute innocence of Laura's baby every bit as seriously as she was brought up to do herself." That calmed her, but only partly as she would now worry that I knew about her initial reaction to Laura's pregnancy and fear I might expose her. Fine, let her stew. "I will have to talk to my husband," she said. "Obviously," I replied. "Listen, when we finish this conversation I will send you the recording. And a consent form for Laura staying with me and one for the school so her papers can be transferred. They are both very specific. I am not asking for a general power of attorney at this point, but we may discuss that when we get close to Laura's due date - provided she is still with me. And that reminds me: I have to ask you if Laura is covered by your medical insurance, specifically for pregnancy and child birth." "She is not," her mother replied. "We checked that when making the arrangements Laura rejected." "Not to worry. I may be able to work something out through my company," I replied. There was a hesitant breath on the line, but she didn't say anything. I continued with practical stuff. "I have made sure Laura is adequately clothed, but obviously it would be handy if she had more of her own stuff - at least while it fits her, and I am sure she would like to have her books and other personal belongings in her rooms in my apartment." I made sure to emphasize the plural 'rooms'. This time there was a confirmative noise. I carried on. "If you could pack her things in a couple of boxes or what not, I could pick them up. I am in the area on Tuesday afternoon. If you don't want any personal contact then just leave them in your garage or porch or some such place where I might find them, as long as they are out of the rain and clearly marked." "OK," was all she said. "Is there anything else we need to discuss?" I asked She was silent for very long, then drew breath. "How is..." she started, but trailed off again. "Yes?" I encouraged. "Oh, nothing," she said. "Thank you for calling Mr. Smith. Goodbye." "Goodbye Mrs. Jones," I replied gently and the line went dead. The first crack in the defense. Small, but hopefully significant. While burning a CD with the recording, I typed two simple consent forms and a covering letter. It was friendly and concise, if somewhat devoid of emotion - just telling them what to do with the forms. After some thought I decided to close the letter with something personal and wrote 'Laura is happy and healthy and has come to no harm. Given proper help, she will manage fine.' Before printing it out, I deleted 'happy and'. That would be for later. *** Laura was trying to be calm when I went to find her in her room, but her agitation was evident. She was forcing herself not to ask the burning questions. "Sweetheart," I said gently. "No need to hold anything back when you're with me. What do you want to know?" "Perhaps a summary first," she said. "To get an overall idea before I get the details." I was impressed. Even under extreme emotional pressure, her intelligence shone through. "OK," I said. "The best overall summary is perhaps that your mother agreed to talk to me, but I did not get to use her Christian name." She winced at that, so I hastened to carry on. "The good news is she seemed willing to let you stay here with me - I will send her a form for her and your father to sign. The bad news is she could not agree to let you return to your own school, so we'll have a shot at getting you into an excellent Catholic high school two blocks away." The good news was obviously much better then bad news was bad. She cried with relief. When she had recovered, I told her the rest of what I had discussed with her mother. The prospect of getting her books and other stuff made her visibly brighten. "Are you really going to be up there on Tuesday anyway?" she asked. "Sure," I said. I was too - I was just not telling her why. "Tell me about this school," she said. "OK," I said "It is a Roman Catholic high school run by nuns, although there are many other teachers too. It's called 'Sacred Heart' after the order. I know the Mother Superior quite well. The academic standard is excellent, but many of the students are not very well off. I belong to a group of IT businessmen that has helped getting them computers and a network and stuff. My company provides all the security for free." "Are you a Catholic?" she asked. "I am nothing, really," I replied "I was born and raised a Catholic, but I haven't been active in any Church for many years." "How can you be Pro Choice as a Catholic?" she asked. Deep questions. Amazing when she had so much to worry about herself. But I had an answer to that one. "The Catholic Church's teachings on that, and in fact on almost all aspects of human sexuality, are the main reason I left. You cannot be 98% Roman Catholic. You either accept the 'whole package' so to speak, or you don't. Anything else is disrespectful. But I have remained on friendly terms with the Church. And they respect me for respecting them." "What will they think of me, being pregnant I mean?" she asked. "Their concern and compassion are genuine and unconditional," I assured her. "But we will also tell them the exact truth. Then they will love you even more." "How do we go about getting me enrolled?" she asked - she was obviously keen to get back to school. "Easy. You got yourself a nice dress on Friday, if I recall rightly. You put that on and we'll go to Vespers this afternoon. The sisters are always there and we can have a word with Mother Marianna." We had a light lunch and then I excused myself. "I have a few phone calls to make, but I'll tell you when we have to leave. Vespers is a 4 and it is only a ten minute walk to the Convent Church. Can you entertain yourself until then?" I asked lightly. "No problem," she replied. "I will raid your library." *** The first phone call was to one of my employees who is also a very close friend. Jock does our internal IT and otherwise works in forensics and he is really your typical nerd, except his personal hygiene is much better. Most people think we are the most unlikely friends - which just shows who little they know either of us. "Hi Dude. How are things?" I asked when I finally caught him on his mobile. "Hi Boss. Not too bad," Jock replied. "I'm down your end of town setting up the penguins' web-filter." "Oh good. We're heading over there for Vespers this afternoon." "Just exactly who are 'we' and since when have you started going to Church?" Jock demanded. Picking out even the slightest anomaly in data is the key to our work, and Jock is one of the best. "Nosey, aren't we," I chuckled. "Well, 'we' are me and someone who will, at least technically, be a colleague of yours as of tomorrow. Anyway, the reason I rang is this. Could you, from those numerous 'sample PCs' you keep making me pay for put together something half decent for a teenager? It doesn't have to be an ultra-gamer thing, but not a run-of-the-mill office PC either. And all the usual home software - on a squeaky clean hard disk." "Can do," he said. "Who is it for?" "God, you are nosey today, aren't you?" I said in mock exasperation. "Well, if you come to Vespers you'll meet her. Otherwise come to my apartment 'round six." "So it is a 'her' is it?" he said. "And what's the deal with the Church?" "Yes, it is a girl. She's called Laura. And I am calling in a favor from Mother M," I replied. "Well, you choose your timing well. I have just installed the IronPort that was left over from TXAZ Defense Corp project. The penguins now have the safest school net in town," Jock replied. He was a master at making our clients donate surplus equipment. Like me he was a lapsed Catholic - for much the same reasons, except they were even more personal to him. Jock is gay, and the official Church stance on 'the likes of him' had him in despair. But he had loved - and been loved by - the nuns at his school and volunteered his massive skills on a regular basis. "Good for them. If you come around six you can join us for dinner," I said. Jock's partner works on Sunday nights and Jock isn't much of a cook, so he grunted consent and we ended the call. *** The second call was to my lawyer Mr. Abrahamowich. Or 'Abe' as he is known to his friends - not even his wife calls him Yedidyah. He has been my US man of legal affairs for years. He mainly does business related things for me, but on the rare occasion when I need some personal legal advice, I've always called him. We meet regularly for dinner, and he has never charged me for the personal stuff. 'I'll just overcharge your company instead' he'd say dead-pan when asked. He was at home and could spare me a moment. I explained the situation so far, interrupted by a few sharp questions. "Humph," he said, or however you transcribe that sound. "You seemed to have covered yourself pretty well, provided you can prove the call was made." "I can," I said. "I used a forensic-class digital recording device. It has a continuous time-stamp and hash function. I don't think even Langley could forge that one." "OK. That means you should be in the clear. But you realize that any promises the mother may or may not have made have no legal value. They can refuse to sign your forms and it seems the only thing that keeps them from reclaiming the girl is their fear of having the whole affair exposed," Abe said. He is always blunt. I knew that of course. "I know Abe, I know. But I think Mother genuinely fears that their standing in their Church will collapse if the Pastor's saintly nephew is charged with rape. I also said something that made her fear that I know they urged Laura to have an abortion. We cannot prove that either, of course, but I will do nothing to allay the fear." "You are a Devil, George." Abe chuckled. "If you ever want to get out of that whiz-bang IT stuff then you should consider law. Anyway, so far you have done the right thing. As your lawyer I am pleased. As your friend I am intrigued. What's the deal? You're almost fifty. She is sixteen and the baby isn't yours." "Nothing of the sort!" I countered. "It is just that I realized that I am lonely - what with the girls being settled so far away. If you met her you would understand." "I hope I shall. You are coming here for dinner this week, and I hope you will bring her. Anyway, here's Leah with my tea; I have to go. Bye!" and he hung up. *** The third and final call was tricky and one I dreaded. But I reckoned the sooner I got the medical insurance thing worked out the better. So there was nothing for it - I rang Joyce, my secretary. It was her partner Lisa that picked up the phone. I seem to be surrounded by gay lapsed Catholics. Joyce is the youngest of seven children. When, at the end of high school, she had realized her sexual orientation and unwisely informed her horrified Irish-American parents, she had been coerced into a novitiate, something for which she was utterly unsuited. But there she met Lisa who had a similar story. Within a month they had left the order, cut off all ties with their families and been together ever since. They had supported each other through college, held good jobs both of them and between them had four children conceived with the assistance of an underground gay network. They were practically surrogate family for me, so obviously Joyce would have to know about Laura, even if she wasn't going to join the company. But Joyce would put the thumb screws on me and I knew I didn't have all the answers. "Hi Lisa! Sorry to interrupt you in your Sunday Devotions," I teased, "but I reeeealy need to talk to Joyce." Lisa snorted and went to find her. A moment later she was on the line "So, what's up?" Joyce asked. "Well, I have hired someone and need you to get all the paperwork done ASAP with respect to medical insurance - there is a certain urgency," I replied. "OK - what's his name?" she asked. Most of our staff is male, so Joyce could be forgiven for the assumption. "Hers. It's a girl. She is called Laura Elizabeth Jones." I waited while Joyce scribbled that down. "What's her address?" Joyce asked. I gave her mine and there was a loud "Say what???!" "Correct. She occupies the 'West Wing' of my apartment," I said dead-pan. Joyce swallowed hard. "Date of birth?" she fired like a machine gun. I have nearly eidetic memory and had seen an ID card in Laura's purse on Friday, so I could give her the information. As predicted, Joyce exploded. "Who the hell is Laura Elizabeth Jones, aged sixteen and residing in the 'West Wing' of your apartment, and what is her role in the company?" she spluttered. "To take the last question first - practically none. She is exceedingly bright, so we may be able to find something for her to do - compatible with her school work of course, but first and foremost it should be at a formal level of employment that entitles her to full comprehensive medical insurance with pre-existing condition cover so that she is all right when the baby comes in five months' time." I delivered that line in a perfectly even voice, suggesting that this was nothing out of the ordinary. "George!" Joyce almost howled, sounding like she was about to burst a blood vessel. "What the hell is going on here?" I could hear Lisa go 'What? What?' in the background, so I said "If Lisa is within earshot and the kids are not then switch on the speaker phone and sit down." There was some shooing and juvenile protests going on in the background, then a click and Joyce's shaken voice came with a slight echo "OK, go ahead." I told them all about it, leaving out very little. They remained quiet throughout. At the end there was a heavy silence and Lisa muttered "And we thought we had toxic parents." Joyce was, as expected, more skeptical. "I think you have landed yourself in a big sticky mess," she began. "I'm glad you've talked to Abe and I suggest you keep him posted on all developments. But for Christ' sake, George, what are your personal motives behind all this?" "I think I will be better able to explain that to you once you've met Laura," I said quietly. "Or vice versa." "Huh?" said Joyce. "I mean, you will be able to explain it to me," I said, "'cause I'm not entirely sure I know myself yet." There was silence again. "If she needs someone to talk to..." Lisa offered. "Thank you. I am sure she does. Anyway, gotta go," I replied. "I'll get the paperwork done first thing tomorrow morning," Joyce said. "Don't get into more trouble before that!” and she hung up. Chapter 5 I put in some long overdue domestic admin work, and then went looking for Laura in her room, but she wasn't there. I found her curled up in an ancient Chesterfield in the library immersed in a book. "That looks very comfy!" I said. "I love it here," she replied without looking up. "I could stay here for ages and never get bored. Your library is almost better than the public one at home." I sat down in an armchair opposite her. I was about to speak, but before I could say anything, she beat me to it. "How were the phone calls?" she asked still without looking up from her book. She knew perfectly well that those calls would have to have been about her and had obviously taken my previous urging to heart. I decided on a concise summary, just like before. "Fine, really fine. First I talked to a chap at work that will get you a computer. He'll come round tonight for dinner and set it up. Next I talked to my lawyer to make sure I don't have one foot in prison. He essentially OK'ed the forms we're sending to your parents by the way. And last I talked to my secretary about getting you employed and enrolled in the medical insurance thing." "And what did they all think about what you've done?" she asked still without lifting her eyes from the book. She tried to sound cool, but a slight quiver in her voice gave her away. "They were all very curious. Jock is more intrigued, really and wonders what it is all about. But he'll see you this evening. My lawyer, Abe, is not easily ruffled. He has seen a thing or two in life since he stumbled out of a concentration camp at age 3. We are invited to dinner at his place on Thursday, by the way. But my secretary Joyce!" My change of voice finally made Laura look up. "Oh God. She exploded when given only the raw details, like your name, age, address and the fact that you’re pregnant. Perhaps that was unkind, but I didn't want to waffle. Her partner was more understanding. She and Joyce have four kids between them, and offered that you could talk to them if you wanted advice." Now she was staring at me. "Joyce is living with a woman?" she asked. The confines of her small suburban world had obviously never exposed her to much diversity. "Yup, Lisa." I said. "Lovely girl. An ex-novice just like Joyce. Their youngest is just two, so they know a thing or two about babies. My knowledge is somewhat out of date, so you could do much worse than talking to them." Laura's eyes had gotten bigger and bigger. "They were nuns. And now they're living together. And they both have babies?" she asked. "Nearly and yes and yes. Their parents tried to force them into being nuns. They found each other and left. And yes they have taken turns being pregnant and now have four kids under six. A lovely flock, if somewhat of a handful." I chuckled. "You can look forward to meeting them." "But how, I mean who...” Laura started and colored up beet red. "There is more than one way to get pregnant," I said gently. "At least voluntarily." "Good for them!" Laura said. "Anyway. I guess we will be leaving soon so I'll go change." She left, and I decided to change into a suit. Not my style, really, when 'off duty', but I decided to rise to the occasion too. *** We met in the hall. She had platted her hair in a French braid and in her new dress she was a stunner. She got her new boots and coat on, and hung on my arm during the brief walk to the Convent Church. We looked the model of middle class respectability, and I felt proud in her company. The Church was not very full, so we sat close to the front. I have always liked the office of Vespers, especially the music and on the rare occasion that I go I have always - to my daughters' despair - sung along. This, in my opinion, can only be done standing up. Laura was slightly hesitant, but got up with me, found the text in the hymnal and let up her voice too. She sang beautifully. I smiled at her warmly. A dozen or so nuns - that is to say almost all of them except the oldest and most infirm, were there. At the end of the service I made a bee-line for the Mother Superior. "Mother Marianna," I said, "Id' like you to meet Laura." "George!" she exclaimed. "Lovely to see you, and lovely to meet you my child. Are you George's niece?" Before Laura could answer I interjected. "She is not. Listen, Reverend Mother. Could we have a word in private?" "If you call me 'Reverend Mother' it must be serious. Shall we go to my study?" she replied, intelligence alight in her old eyes. "The Church will be fine," I said and we held back while the other nuns, the priest and the congregation left. "Well?" she inquired. "Laura has been subjected to a sexual assault," I started. "It has had consequences and she has courageously refused to let her baby suffer, even at the cost of losing her home and schooling." "Poor child. How shocking." Mother Marianna's voice was warm as her gentle eyes fell on Laura. "The 'home' bit, I can take care of - with her parents' somewhat grudging acceptance, and I hoped you could help with the schooling bit - again with her parents' consent." There was no point in being anything but direct with Mother Marianna. "Laura is a straight A junior. Her baby is not due until the summer holidays - late July it is, and I think she should continue her education while she can." "I agree entirely," Mother Marianna replied. "Sister Joanna is our junior-year coordinator," she said and nodded in the direction of the nun who was busy tidying the Altar after the service. "She will make the arrangements." "Jo!" she called. "Can you spare us a moment?" The nun came over. Sister Joanna teaches science. She is also the computer coordinator, so I have met her on several occasions. Mother Marianna demonstrated her legendary efficiency. "Jo, this is Laura. She is transferring to us and starting tomorrow in junior year. Can you take her to your office, get her details, and work out which home group she should be in and what electives she is taking?" Sister Joanna didn't bat an eyelid. "Certainly Mother," she said, turned to Laura with a smile and said. "Come with me Laura and we will work things out." Laura left in a daze. *** When the door had closed behind them, Mother Marianna turned to me and said "Well, George. Can I have the full story?" She got it - I told Mother Marianna absolutely everything. Unlike Abe, Joyce and Lisa, she even got the bit about Laura trying to prostitute herself. The old nun was silent for a while. "Laura has reasons to be glad of you," she said finally. I was somewhat taken aback by that. "Eh, I suppose so," I said lamely. "She actually thanked God when I offered she could stay with me." "Obviously you would call it simple chance you happened to be there, wouldn’t you?" she challenged, mischief shining in her beautiful old eyes. "You don't think God had a hand in that?" "Listen," I said not feeling very comfortable or sure of anything. "I can't analyze it. I don't know why I acted the way I did. I feel a strong urge to protect and help her, but I am not sure my motives are all that pure. Obviously she needs my, or someone’s, or anyone's help, but I enjoy her company. Her presence is joy to me." The old nun smiled. "No one’s said helping others should be without reward. On the contrary, we experience it frequently in our line of work. I am glad this child has pierced your armor, marched into your life and dispelled your loneliness," she said. I was staring agape. Who needs a shrink if they can have five minutes with Mother Marianna! "Anyway," she continued, "the crunch will come when she falls in love with you - as she will, believe me. That's when you have to have worked out what your motives are." I gulped. "I, 'eh, " "And don't take too long about it," Mother Marianna warned. "You must seem like a savior to her. She will feel no inclination to ever leave you, will she? If you are to turn her down without crushing her, you will have to work hard on your reasoning." Before I could answer that she rose to leave. "Jo will see that Laura is settled in school and the bursar will contact you regarding the financial side of things." She chuckled. "You are a rich man, so we will bleed you for the maximum fees. I must be off; there are things I need to take care off before supper. And I will have both of you - make that all three of you - in my prayers. Go with God George," and she was off. I stayed in the Church deep in thought. I was still sitting there when Laura came looking for me. She was all bouncy and happy. "This is awesome. I can continue all my electives and they seem to be roughly at the same points in English, Math and Sciences as my old class. It will be so good to be back in school!" I smiled. "Was Sister Joanna nice?" I asked. "Oh very. When I took my coat off, she obviously worked a few things out. No questions about extra Phys Ed," she giggled. "I am glad you are so Zen about it," I said. "It is so much easier not being in a permanent state of embarrassment." That enhanced the giggling. "The only embarrassing moment was when she asked me about my personal details. Do you realize I don't know where we live?" We both cracked up laughing. "Anyway, I said I was staying with you and she seemed to know where you live, or at least to be able to find out," she said "Oh, the nuns know me quite well," I agreed. "And anyway, if Mother Marianna has said you are starting tomorrow then you are starting tomorrow and Sister Joanna will simply get the information later." *** We left the Church and walked home. On arrival, Jock and Ramone were in the lobby. "Good evening Mr. George, good evening Miss Laura," Ramone said. "Jock arrived with some boxes so I let him put his car in the basement and we were just going to take the stuff up." If Jock was shocked or surprised or even just curious, he didn't show it. He simply held a hand out to Laura and said "Hi, I'm Jock. You must be Laura. I have a PC for you," and headed to the elevator. Up in the apartment I said "I'll start fixing dinner and leave you to it." Ramone, who wouldn't let Laura carry anything, helped Jock getting the boxes down to Laura's living room and was back in the kitchen a few moments later. "We've been to see Mother M," I told him. "Laura's starting school tomorrow." "Excellent," he replied. "Let's just hope we're allowed to keep her." That little 'we' spoke volumes. Laura had friends. *** Two hours later it was obvious that group included Jock. Not only had he dug out a really nice PC, he had also demonstrated his skills and put them to Laura's assistance leaving her speechless with joy and wonder. OK, some of the tricks were of dubious legality, but I didn't want to be a spoil-sport. On the basis of her various net-handles he had managed to locate her parents' home PC which was online on a respectable ADSL connection. With a bit of probing he worked out that it had a number of well-known unpatched vulnerabilities, and within moments he had penetrated it and transferred Laura's profile to the new PC. She had squealed with delight when her background picture, desktop-settings, e-mail and messenger profiles and so on had showed up on login - using her original password. "He even said he could get hold of all our family pictures," Laura said over dinner. "Can too!” Jock said. "It will just take a little longer, so I'm doing that in batch from work." "Yikes!" I said. "Don't leave calling cards!" "What do you take me for?" Jock snorted. "An innocent? Don't worry - it is all done through a double-anonymous gateway in Finland." "I breathe again," I said with a theatrical gesture. Laura had followed this exchange with a bemused look on her face. "Are you sure you guys are on the right side of the law?" she asked. "Oh, I am," I assured her. "I sometimes have my doubts about Jock, but I don't dare get rid of him, or he will surely start working for the Dark Side." "And then you would be lost Boss," Jock agreed. "I would Dude, I would." On the pretext of helping carrying cardboard boxes down, I saw Jock to his car. "She is one nice kid," Jock said. I nodded. "I'm really glad I could help her. I made one boo-boo, though. She obviously used to have an iPod - there is a large iTunes library on the home machine. She has paid for all the music, by the way. Don't see many of those!" "And?" I inquired. "Well, I asked her about it and she got all teary. I think she has had to part with it," he said quietly. "She pawned everything of value to keep herself and the baby fed," I said. "I have found two receipts but not one for an iPod." "Well, it's a Nano and I guess it is green based on its name - 'Laura's green pod' - here's the serial number." He handed me a piece of paper. "I'll see what I can do," I said and waved to Jock as he drove off. Back in the apartment I found, surprise surprise, Laura on-line with friends. "This is one cool machine," she said looking up. "Jock's a real sweetie." "That he is," I said. "But not for you. Jock is gay," I added teasingly. "That's a real shame," she said. "What a loss." "Jock's partner doesn't think so!" I said. "I suppose not." Her horizon was widening. After a moment, she said "What can I tell my friends on-line?" Tricky. I have often volunteered my services for courses on net-safety in schools. Suddenly it was personal. "Well, I guess there will be no harm in mentioning me - by first name only. And the apartment - by district. Don't go into more details than that. This machine is one heck of a lot better protected than the one at home, by the way. But I suppose we should be happy that your father is no IT-wiz, or Jock couldn't have worked his magic." She nodded, then frowned and suddenly said. "Strange! I reacted to you calling my parents' house 'home'. I know it is only 48 hours, but I feel at home here." "I am glad sweetheart. I'm really glad." I kissed her lightly on the top of her head. "Don't stay up too long - you have a long school day tomorrow." *** If I dreamt that night again I can't remember it. I had set the alarm clock early to make sure we had time to get Laura off to school, but when I walked into the kitchen she was already dressed and making breakfast for both of us. "Excited, huh?" I asked. "And how!" she smiled. "I haven't been this excited since starting grade school. Oh, by the way. Lunch. Sister Joanna said I could buy a healthy warm lunch at the school, but I don't have a cent." "I think you'll find you do," I said. Confused she got her purse out of the backpack she was going to use for school. Finding the money she looked startled. "Where did that come from?" she asked. "Put it in Friday night," I replied. "Can't have you roaming the streets penniless, can we?" "Is there anything you don't think of?" she asked looking at me with her deep blue eyes. "We aim to please!" I said meeting her gaze. Even if it was only two blocks away, I drove her to school. I got a peck on the cheek as she got out of the car. "See you this afternoon," I called after her. "Remember to get your keys from Ramone." She waved as I drove off. Chapter 6 If I had expected to get anything done at work, I was sadly mistaken. Jock and Joyce had swapped notes and I spent all morning in a continuous inquisition. All the more futile because I didn't have any more information to give them - they knew everything there was to know apart from Laura's attempt at propositioning me. I admitted readily that I was growing very fond of Laura. Joyce can read me like an open book, and Jock is no fool when it comes to human emotions so there was no sense in holding that back. But that was all I could offer. "And what do you think your daughters will say?" Joyce challenged. "She is, what - four years - younger then Elise, isn't she?" My endurance was at an end. "What has that go to do with anything? She is not my lover!" I exclaimed. Joyce and Jock exchanged significant looks over my head like I wasn't there. It was a bad morning. In the afternoon Jock came into my office with two optical disks. "This one holds Laura's iTunes library, and the other the family pictures." "That was quick work," I said. "I had expected it would have taken days to put together the pieces.” "Well, her father stayed on-line all night it seems," Jock said in a flat voice. I have known him for quite a while, and I knew he was holding something back. I went over, closed my door, motioned Jock to a chair and said "Spill the beans." "Oh, it's nothing much. Except it seems Laura's father has a, shall we say, unusual taste in on-line literature for an avowed Christian churchman," Jock stated. "Meaning?" I asked. "Meaning hundreds and hundreds of stories with the same motif - under-aged girls being impregnated by close relatives, including brothers, uncles and fathers. And not always consensual." Jock's voice was still level, but there was an undercurrent of deep anger. "Stories alone are not illegal," I said. "I take it there are no pictures?" "I looked, but found none," he replied. "Believe me, I looked. Some of his search strings are pretty dubious, but his ISP has an effective filter, so there's nothing there." I cocked my head. "Well, that's good, isn't it?" "I so want to nail that bastard," Jock replied. My eyebrows rose. "Don't think for a moment you're the only one taken in completely by little Laura," he said. I raised my eyebrows even further, but said nothing. "Oh, sex has nothing to do with it," Jock continued almost irritated. "As Joyce will proclaim loudly when she falls under Laura's spell too." We were silent for a while. "Let's summarize," I said. "He has dirty reading habits and has sought, but not found, potentially illegal pictures. Nothing for the Police Department just now, but it can be stored away for a rainy day. That is to say, if we need to apply, shall we say moderate, pressure to make him let Laura have her way? Correct?" "Correct!" Jock said and rose to leave. "Thanks for the disks," I said. "Laura will be so pleased." *** When I came home late that afternoon, I parked the car and walked round to a nearby shop to get more fresh milk. Coming back to the lobby I heard a loud voice "Who the hell is 'Laura Elizabeth Jones'?" It was Debbie, Ramone's significant other, and the inquiry was directed at him, not me. "Why don't you ask her herself Debbie?" I said mildly. She spun round. "Oh, hello George. I didn't know you had a resident girlfriend!" "I don't," I replied. "Laura is staying with me for the time being because she has nowhere else to go." "Meaning what?" Debbie asked. I gave a brief summary, including Laura's age, condition and parental situation. "Are you out of your mind George?" Debbie exploded. "You could have the cops coming for you any moment if her parents were to find out!" "Oh, but they know all about it," I replied calmly. "I rang them and have sent them my details by registered post. I am hoping they will formally consent to Laura being here." "How about school?" Debbie asked. "Miss Laura started at 'Sacred Heart' today," Ramone offered. "I saw her when she returned earlier this afternoon, 'cause she came to me for her keys. She'd had a lovely day, but was pretty tired. No wonder, poor thing. But she loved the sign!" - He nodded in the direction of the directory of tenants. "You seem to know all about her!" Debbie challenged. "Ramone has been most helpful setting up Laura's living room," I replied. Debbie shook her head. "It seems I can't leave town for a weekend without something like that happening. Anyway, have you considered that my people might have one or two things to say about this arrangement?" By 'my people' she meant work. Debbie is a senior social worker, and she had a point. "I have," I replied. "In fact I was meaning to ask you how to make the initial contact." Debbie laughed. "Well, I think that has now well and truly been taken care off. I'll talk to Lorraine tomorrow." Lorraine is Debbie's boss. One of those immensely competent no-nonsense people you can't do without when running social services in a huge city. Having her involved right from the start was good news. While she was completely incorruptible, she was also very practical and no stickler for formalities if an unorthodox solution was better. Debbie declined an invitation to go and meet Laura right away, so I went up alone. I found Laura at the new desk in her living room immersed in school work. "Jeez, that's rough!" I said. "Homework on the first day!" She looked up with a brilliant smile. "Uh, hi. Well, it isn't the first day for everyone else. Besides, there wasn't much real homework - I just like to catch up with what the rest of the class has been doing. And we don't have a single book in common with my old school." "Poor you!" I said. "No, it's OK," she replied. "I'm so happy being back at school. And Sister Joanna has managed to get me a complete set of books." She pointed at a huge pile. "Please don't tell me you carried all those home yourself!" I said. "Oh, don't you start on that too!" she laughed. "You should have heard Ramone - he gave me a serious scolding and refused to let me carry my bag up to the apartment." I laughed too. "I can well imagine that!" "It's not like I am sick, just pregnant," she said. Touché! That used to be my line. "Indeed," I replied. "Just be careful. Anyway, I'll go and start dinner." That night I again dreamt of Laura standing in my bedroom looking at me. The dream was disturbingly real. *** On Tuesday morning, I went up to Laura's suburb after having dropped her off at school. I did call on the new client, although that was mainly a courtesy call. They were pleased enough with the attention, though, and it provided me with an excuse for the main objective of the expedition. After lunch I first went to Laura's erstwhile home. With street after street of more or less identical houses, I was glad of my GPS, or I would never have found it. The house was the model of anonymous suburbia - respectable, but dull to the nth degree. I rang the doorbell, but there was nobody home. I hadn't expected that either - although I was hoping that Laura's things would be ready to collect. They were - the garage was open, and I easily spotted a couple of boxes labeled "LAURA" in large lettering. There were no external signs of a message or a letter. There could be one inside one of the boxes, of course, but I was not exactly hopeful. I put the boxes in the back of my car and drove off. Finding the pawn shop was not difficult. It was located in a side street off the main street and the shop was tidy, but overstuffed with the most amazing things. "Can I help you?" a voice said and I turned to see a small man with a large moustache emerging from a back room. "Yes, you can," I said. "I am here to retrieve some goods on behalf of a friend. I am sorry, I have no idea how this works." He eyed my expensive business suit and nodded - I am sure I stood out from his usual clientele. "Have you got the receipts?" he asked. "Sure," I said and handed him the two I had managed to find. "Ah yes," he said, looking at them and then back up at me. "I remember those. And her." He looked at me questioningly. "I believe there may have been a third, but that has gone missing." I said. "Sorry, I must have the receipts, or I cannot identify the goods," he replied almost mechanically - obviously used to this. "I understand," I said. "But what if I can provide unique identification? It is a green iPod and I know the serial number." "That's different," he said. "Then we should be OK." I handed him the information Jock had given me and he disappeared for a while before returning with the iPod, a mobile phone and a small collection of jewelry. "Here it is," he said and mentioned a sum. I paid it in cash. Obviously some of it was interest, but it still seemed like he had advanced a remarkably large sum compared to the apparent value of the goods. I told him so. "You cannot have expected to cover your costs if these things went uncollected," I said. He looked straight at me. "No," he said. "I didn't. The jewelry was more or less OK - there are one or two old pieces of some value, but neither the phone nor the iPod were worth what I gave her." "And still?" I prompted. "Listen," he said. "I hear a lot of stories in this place and most of them are a load of bull. But I know true desperation when I see it. And this girl was in trouble. Real trouble." I smiled. "She was. She isn't any more - I am helping her now." "I am glad to hear it," he said. "Truly. I hadn't expected that story to have a happy ending." "It hasn't ended yet," I replied. "But we're working on it." *** Laura was excited when I presented her with her belongings from home. She knew I had talked to her mother about getting stuff, and she happily unpacked her books and clothes, laughing at some of them. "I can't wear those for a long while!" she said and patted her belly. There was no letter or anything, but she didn't seem to expect one and I didn't mention it. When she had finished the boxes, I silently handed her a small bag with the goods from the pawn shop. She looked puzzled, opened the bag and retrieved the items in awe. Her joy was beyond measure. "Oh George!" she said. "How did you manage to get those?" I confessed that I had found the two receipts and told her how Jock had retrieved the serial number of the iPod. She came up real close, tears streaming down her face. "Oh George, when you said you would do anything for me, you told no lies." I resisted the urge to take her in my arms, but I kissed her on the forehead. "I am only happy to make you happy," I said. "Now, let's fix dinner." *** We ate and I did the kitchen while Laura continued with her homework. There was a knock on the front door a little later in the evening which was strange as visitors usually announce themselves over the intercom. It had to be an internal visit. True enough, it was Debbie and she had gotten hold of Lorraine. I let them in. Before they could say much I made a suggestion. "You know the bare bones of the story. Why don't you go and talk to Laura first without me being there confusing things? She is in her room right now studying." They nodded assent, so I took them up to Laura's room, knocked on the door and said "Laura, here are two people to see you. Debbie is Ramone's girlfriend, but she is here because she is a social worker. Lorraine is her boss. Tell them everything they want to know. As in everything." "OK," she said. She didn't look scared, but perhaps a little apprehensive. "Can you stay?" "No," I said. "They need your story. They will talk to me later." She nodded and I left them to it. I busied myself in the kitchen making tea. It didn't stop me from being worried. If this went badly, Laura would have to leave. Possibly even tonight. On the other hand, I knew perfectly well this was something that had to be done. Handling Laura in a clandestine way was not an option. About three quarters of an hour later - although I admit it felt longer - Debbie and Lorraine returned. They both looked intensely at me - Debbie glassy-eyed, and Loraine with a very mild expression. "The Department has no objections to Laura staying with you for the time being," Lorraine said - trying to keep her voice neutral and official. "None. If Laura's parents sign those consent forms she mentioned then we shan't be involved at all. If they don't and start making problems, I would be inclined to side with Laura, although the legal position would be difficult. Let's hope that doesn't happen." Debbie was much less formal. "You are a good man George," she said kissing me on the cheek. "God bless you!" and they both took their leave. I sat in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea when Laura joined me a few moments later. "Have they gone?" she asked in surprise. "Yes," I replied. "They didn't need to ask me anything - you seem to have told them all they needed to know." "Do you think it went OK?" she asked. "I am certain of it," I replied. "Lorraine said so. The Department has no objections, so it is down to your parents now." A big smiled spread on Laura's face. "I am so glad George. I so hoped they would agree." I smiled back, but I was curious - I had to know. "What kinds of questions did they ask you?" "Well, for starters they wanted to know the whole background, so I pretty much told them what I have told you," Laura said. "But after that they wanted to know about you - as in about you and me. They wanted to know if you were coming on to me, or touching me or anything like that." She sounded slightly angry. "They have to, you know," I said. "You are a minor and I am a grown man." "Well, I told them that I had tried to proposition you - and that you turned me down. And that, apart from stroking my hair, you had never touched me. Then I listed all the things you have been doing for me - including getting the stuff back from my parents and the pawn shop. At the end of it they were very quiet and Debbie was nearly crying." "I noticed," I replied. "Well, sweetheart, we are one big step closer to you being able to stay here." *** Wednesday morning I asked Laura if she would like to see her 'workplace' in the afternoon. She giggled at that, but readily agreed and I picked her up after school. I had chosen the time deliberately. Through a series of coincidences, the only people at work would be Jock and Joyce, everyone else were either visiting clients or attending a conference. We walked into the front office, which is Joyce's kingdom. She rules it unchallenged. "Hi Joyce!" I said brightly. "Meet our new colleague Laura." Joyce shot me a significant look, but restricted her verbal response to a subdued "Welcome Laura, how are you?" Continuing the charade of this being a completely ordinary new recruitment, I said "Well, Joyce, can you run Laura through all the usual stuff and get her her keys and access card and so on and when you're done, take her down to Jock? We were thinking of starting Laura on anomaly analysis." Obviously, most of the analysis we do is highly automated - the only way forward because of the enormous amounts of data, but for certain things the human eye is much much better at finding anomalies. I had a suspicion that Laura's sharp mind would be suited for this. If so, she could easily have an after-school job here, and I suspected it would please her actually earning some of her keep. Joyce just nodded so I smiled vaguely and fled to my office. Having already been in this morning, there was little in my inbox, so I went hunting for Jock and a cup of coffee, finding both in our small rest area. I flopped down in a sofa next to him. "How goes?" he asked. "Oh, I am fine," I replied. "Laura is currently being introduced to this place by Joyce..." "You mean Laura is being introduced to Joyce?" he laughed. "Indeed, though both are true. In fact, I suggested Laura could try her hand - and eye - at anomaly analysis, so they'll come looking for you later," I replied. "Knowing Joyce - and knowing Laura - that could be a while," he chuckled. We drank our coffee in silence. Jock refilled our cups. "Did you have any luck with that iPod, by the way?" he asked "I did! I got it with the other stuff, no problem." I replied. "And your theory about 'falling under Laura's spell' seems to hold in the most unusual places. The pawn shop fellow was one of them - he'd advanced her way more than the stuff was worth!" "Good for him that you came around!" Jock replied. "Yes. Although he seemed more pleased to hear Laura was safe than to get his money," I mused. "Laura has that effect on people," Jock said. "Just wait - I bet you in less than an hour, Joyce will be her devoted slave too." He was right. Much less than an hour. Just as we had decided the coffee break was well and truly over, Joyce homed in on us. "Jock! This cell phone of Laura's. The pre-paid subscription has expired. Can you get hold of the telco and have it reopened - with the same number, but with an ordinary business plan paid by us as usual?" Avoiding my eyes and not trusting his voice, Jock simply nodded. I am proud to say that we both managed to hold back the spluttering laughter until Joyce had left us again. "'As usual', my foot!" Jock laughed, tears streaming down his face. "That was priceless. It has begun - what do you think the next service will be?" I didn't have to wait long to find out. When Joyce had handed Laura over to Jock for an introduction to anomaly analysis - and access to some test data, she came to my office. "OK," she said in her usual business-like manner. "All set. Laura will work here Monday and Wednesday afternoons, starting next week. Only next Monday, she won't be here as she is going to see my obstetrician. About time too." "Cool. Good of you to arrange it. I felt slightly out of my depth on that one,” I admitted. "No wonder. As we worked out the other day, Elise will be twenty one next, right?" there was a hint of a smile. "Yeah, although I am sure babies are made in much the same way these days," I teased. "Anyway, I hope she can find her way - I am with Stratco all day on Monday." Joyce's answer was almost scornful. "Never you mind! I am picking her up from school and taking her to Noelle myself. No way in hell is she going to be there alone. I'll take her home to meet Lisa and the kids afterwards. You can pick her up after dinner." To be honest, I wasn't surprised, but I didn't rub it in. Instead I focused on a part of her generosity which would help me too. "Excellent. I was thinking of dropping the dinner with the Stratco board, but they really wanted me to come. And listen, I really appreciate you taking her to the obstetrician. Her mother should have done it long ago." "Well, we both know how much support she can expect from her!" Joyce said. "And besides, I think Laura will be in for a surprise on Monday. It will be good for her to have someone there, even if I say so myself..." I looked up sharply. "What do you mean?" "Oh George," she said. "It's just a hunch. But I think she is very big for four months - for her age and build and being a first-timer and all. She is not fat - far from it, and she doesn't look like she is retaining liquid. To be honest, I think she is carrying twins." I whistled softly. Joyce nodded and continued. "Obviously, it makes very little difference for her immediate future - sure she may find the last few weeks of this school year extra tough, but although few twins go full term, she should be able to finish junior year OK unless the babies are very premature." I sensed Joyce had more on her mind. I lifted my eyebrows questioningly. "Listen, it makes one heck of a difference for her future if she is a seventeen year old mother of two, and not just one," Joyce finally said. I threw up my arms in a gesture of acceptance. "So be it. I took her in, baby and all. I'll keep her, babies and all, for as long as she needs a place to be. For as long as it takes for her to get back on her feet." Joyce and I were both quiet for a while. "I think I owe you an apology" she finally said. Thinking I understood what she meant, I looked up with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "No you don't. You had to meet her to understand." "Very true," she said. "I had very uncharitable thoughts about you. I thought you'd turned into a dirty old man. I thought you were in lust. Now it is obvious you are in love." I must have looked stunned. "Oh, knock it off George. Call things by their rightful names. She loves you and you love her. It is very pure and simple." Joyce smiled a wry smile. "Much too pure and simple for the world we live in; it is not going to be easy, but at least you won't be alone." Not for the first time, I felt a small pang of regret that Joyce was unobtainable. Chapter 7 Laura was bubbly on the way home. "That was so much fun. Jock said I was a natural. I found everything in the test-data that he knew about and even something he had over-looked!" I knew that - what Jock had actually said to me was even more effusive 'Keep her! Get her through college and employ her! She is brilliant!' I managed a lame "That's good. I thought it was your thing." In reality, I was more interested in the other purpose of today's visit - so I asked, as casually as I could, "So, what do you make of Joyce?" "Oh, she is an absolute honey!" Laura beamed. "After ten minutes I felt like I've known her all my life. If only I'd had a friend like that earlier!!" I smiled broadly, but said nothing. "Do you know, she managed to get me an emergency appointment with the obstetrician she and Lisa have been seeing, and she will take me there herself on Monday?" "Yes," I replied. "She told me. That's really good because I can't be there Monday - I have a whole-day meeting that ends with a dinner." "I know," Laura said. "Joyce looked up your appointment calendar. But she is taking me home to see Lisa and the kids, so I am all set." She sounded so happy, and when I snuck a look at her, there was a serene calmness on her face. My heart ached. I had to force myself to concentrate on the traffic. *** Thursday night we went out for dinner at Abe and Leah's place. They are a delightful couple and always great hosts - on this occasion they went out of their way to make Laura feel welcome and at ease. Abe, always direct but unfailingly kind, made it clear to Laura that he knew of her pregnancy - it was getting rather obvious anyway. When we had arrived in their park-view apartment and were seated in Abe's gorgeous study with four or five other guests for a pre-dinner drink, he elegantly handled the subject by saying: "It's not so much your age Laura, but the precious cargo you are carrying that made me assume you want something non-alcoholic." Laura smiled warmly and agreed. Since I never drink either, she didn’t feel left out. One of the other guests - a retired school principal that I have only met once before, picked up on Abe's comment. "You're pretty young to choose to become a mother," she said. There was nothing exactly condemning in her statement and the tone wasn't hostile, yet I found it disturbingly personal for someone you do not know at all. But Laura didn't flinch. In a calm voice she replied "I didn't choose to become pregnant, but once that had happened, I had no intention of letting my baby suffer. So it is perhaps better to say that I have chosen to embrace the fact that I will soon become a mother." That opened a fairly robust discussion on what is still perhaps America's most contentious social/moral issue that carried on well into dinner. Most of Abe and Leah's friends are liberal Jews - I count myself honored to be included in their circle as I have frequently been the only non-Jew at their parties. So the Pro Choice stance was in the majority. Interestingly, but not surprisingly, Abe sided with Laura. His harrowing start to life got drawn in too. "I was one of the few lucky ones - I survived the unspeakable evil, and I cannot remember any of it." he said. He had stumbled out of a liberated concentration camp in early 1945 with an 'uncle' - a man who had been engaged to his father's sister. All of Abe's relatives had perished, only he and the 'uncle' survived and made it to the USA through the 'uncle's' family connections. To Abe, life was as sacrosanct as it was to Laura. As a young lawyer, he had worked tirelessly to fight the death penalty pro bono, and he had never been Pro Choice. Leah - despite her and Abe's infertility that had caused them much grief - took the opposite view and firmly supported a woman's right to choose, but like me saw it as something not to be encouraged - "I will always support choosing life when possible, but the choice should be there. I think Laura is very courageous." Once more I worried that Laura would be hurt or offended when the outspoken former principal brought sex education into the discussion - equating lack of proper sex education with the prevalence of teenage pregnancies. While not saying it in so many words, it was clear from her argument that she assumed Laura's pregnancy was an 'accident' that could have been prevented. Again, I was impressed with Laura's maturity and calm. "I agree with you entirely that good sex education is a must," she said. "It just wouldn't have made any difference in my case - I don't think my rapist would have acted any differently with better Sex Ed. Besides, he wasn't even a teenager." The content of that statement in itself was shocking to the guests; the level voice it was delivered in only enhanced the effect. Leah, ever the competent hostess steered the discussion in a new direction and for a while Laura could relax, but through a twist she again became the center of attention in a discussion of, of all things, fashion. Laura wore a new dress I had bought her and some of the jewelry I had retrieved on Tuesday - she looked very pretty indeed. Abe, Leah and their guests obviously thought so too; they praised her for her style and the antique jewelry was mentioned. "Yes, I am very fond of those pieces. They belonged to my great-grandmother," Laura said. "I think it is touching that you hang on to them and use them," one of the guests commented. "It shows real dedication to your heritage." Ever honest and open, Laura - perhaps unwisely - felt a need to spill the beans. "Actually, I had to part with them. It broke my heart, but I had to." "Part with them?" the guest asked. "My parents forced me out on the streets, so I had to pawn them to feed myself - and my baby," Laura said. "That's shocking, my child," Leah interjected. "But you have them again now?" "Yes, George got them back for me," Laura said. "I have so much to be grateful to George for." I was deeply moved by that but wondered what the impact of Laura's confession would be. I didn't have to wait long. "You are very candid Laura," the retired principal said. "So I am sure you don't mind me asking how you got to know George." I am pretty sure Laura did mind. This time the question sounded openly hostile and I am also pretty certain that what she really wanted to ask was 'what is the nature of your relationship?' or something like that. It was time to get her to shut up. Before Laura could say anything, I cut in. "Laura and I met by chance. She approached me for help with her immediate needs, and we got to know each other. For now she is staying with me and going to school nearby. I have also employed her part time in at my company. My leading analyst tells me she is brilliant at it and easily holds her own. If only she was old enough to get a security clearance, we would make a fortune from her!" The businessmen present laughed at that. Laura looked stunned. Perhaps I was laying it on a bit thick, but it was more or less the truth. Obviously she couldn't be allowed to work on classified data yet, but once she could, the sky was the limit. Abe was next. "George and I are working on getting Laura’s parents to resume their natural duties. Until then she is safe with George. All relevant authorities have been informed and have agreed with the arrangements." Noble of him. All he'd done was to OK my letters. I had told him about Debbie and Lorraine's visit - and there was still no answer from Laura's parents. But this small license with the truth certainly helped shield Laura. Leah closed the discussion by saying "There'll be coffee and tea in the living room," and ensured that Laura and I sat down with someone else. We didn't stay long after that. "It is a school day tomorrow and Laura needs her sleep," I said as we rose to polite murmurs of agreement. Abe and Leah both saw us out. "I am sorry about Rachel," Leah said, opening her arms to Laura. "She can be a bit rough at times. I hope you don't feel hurt." "That's OK," Laura said - happily melting in to Leah's embrace. "I guess we are going to hear a lot like that. I guess I will get used to it." "Well, I don't think it is fair Laura," Abe said. "But remember that Leah and I will be there for you." He got a peck on the cheek for that and we left. *** "That wasn't too bad, was it?" I asked when we got in the car to drive home. "Not at all - Abe and Leah are lovely!" Laura exclaimed. "As are Mother M and Sister Joanna and Ramone and Debbie and Jock and Joyce. It's kind of strange..." She trailed off. "What is?" I prompted. "Well, I have made some pretty unusual friends," she mused. "At least from what I was used to in my all-white, all-straight, all-middle class, all-evangelical life." I smiled. "Well, I'm not evangelical, but I'm white and straight and middle class." "But you are anything but usual George!" she said. "You are the most unusual of the lot and I love you." Perhaps she said it before she had thought about how it would sound and she instantly fell silent, blushing profusely. "I am glad to hear that sweetheart," I said quietly. "I love you too." We of course both knew that the word 'love' has a lot of meanings. But neither of us was sure what the exact meaning was now - for ourselves or the other, and for the rest of the drive home we remained silent. *** We had a quiet weekend. Laura had a fair amount of homework, and she was still working on catching up with her new class. But Sunday we went to an art gallery and had lunch there, and in the afternoon we went to Vespers again. I have never been a regular Church goer, but I certainly didn't mind and Laura wanted to - and there was no reluctance in her singing this time. We didn't stop and talk to Mother Marianna, but we got a blazing smile. By unspoken agreement, neither of us had mentioned the conversation in the car home on Thursday night, but I noticed a change in Laura's body language. She seemed to be touching me all the time - nothing demonstrative or indeed objectionable except for the most ardent puritan, but it was there all the time. When we went to the living room for our evening tea, she sat down close to me on the sofa, swung her legs up and leaned against me, necessitating my support. It made drinking tea a little tricky, but it felt lovely. And yet, I was slightly worried. I realized that while I didn't think Mother Marianna and Joyce were quite right, they had a point in that our relationship was developing, and doing so quickly and in a way that was fraught with danger. When we rose to go to bed, instead of the usual quick peck on the cheek, Laura stood very close and very still. Our eyes locked. With maximum effort, I pulled myself together and kissed her lightly on the forehead, saying good night. My sleep didn't come easy and it was very disturbed. *** Monday morning I had to leave early, but Laura was fine with walking to school. "See you at Joyce and Lisa's tonight," she called as I rushed out the door. I must confess I was a little preoccupied during the whole-day meeting with Stratco - one of our major clients. I had a lot to do in the morning, but after lunch my active participation was limited to a few discussions, and the rest of the time I was thinking of Laura and her appointment in the afternoon. I wondered if Joyce was right - she usually is, and if so, how Laura would take it. The answer came just after 4 PM when I got a text message from Laura. "Please call me!" it said. I excused myself, found a private spot and called her. She was crying. "Oh George, what am I to do? I am having twins. I've seen them on an ultra-sound scan." Well, it wasn't really news, so I had had time to think of an answer. "Why Laura, sweetheart, that is great!" I said. "Great?" she said in a sob that almost sounded like a hiccup. She obviously hadn't expected that answer. "Yes, great. Can't you see it?" I insisted. "In all likelihood it will be a long time before you are ready for another pregnancy, so your baby would essentially grow up as an only child. By having twins, that won't happen. Instant family, instant playmates. Great! And listen, we can as easily look after two as after one baby - besides, there is plenty of room in the apartment. So don't worry about a thing." "Oh George!" she sobbed, her crying changing from distress to relief. Joyce came on the line. "George, I don't know what you just said to Laura, but it sure helped. Bless you - and see you tonight." "See you around 9," I said and hung up. Dinner was good - even exquisite, I guess - but I would much rather have been in Lisa's and Joyce's town house, and as soon as I could - without offending anyone, I drove off. Lisa let me in and I found Laura and Joyce in the spacious kitchen/dining room. The kids were long in bed and the three women had been companionably chatting over cups of tea. Laura flew in my arms, and for once I accepted her embrace, getting a knowing look from Joyce. I sat down with a cup of tea too. "So, it's twins." I said. "Could you see if they were boys or girls?" "Well, Noelle said it was a little early, but she is fairly confident there is one of each," Laura replied. "Oh, so they are fraternal?" I asked. "Definitely," Joyce chipped in. "Clearly two placentas. And everything, as in everything, is fine." I smiled broadly. I wasn't the least bit surprised that Joyce took a keen interest. Laura would be in the safest and kindest of hands. We talked for a little while. Laura had told about dinner at Abe and Leah's on Thursday. Joyce was incensed with Rachel. "That old biddy. What is she on about?" I smiled inwardly again. No doubt, Laura would have a strong defender. Make that two defenders. "Laura is an absolute natural with kids," Lisa said. "All four kids loved her instantly and we had to arrange a communal bed-time reading session, or we would have had a riot!" "Well, perhaps you got yourself a baby-sitter then!" I smiled and rose to leave. "Anyway, I have to get Laura home to bed. She is sleeping for three now! Thanks for looking after her so well." "Our pleasure!" Joyce smiled, Lisa nodding in agreement. On the way home Laura was telling me all about the appointment, seeing it in quite a different light now that she was over the shock of the twin-revelation. "Noelle said I had been looking after myself really well. It felt so good to hear it, ‘cause I was trying so hard to do just that while, while..." she trailed off and her eyes were brimming with tears. "I know what you mean, sweetheart." I said. "You did a fantastic job on your own. And now you won't have to be alone again." "Oh George," she whispered. "I was so frightened when Noelle told me there were two babies. I feared that you, you, - you know - would think it was too much." The tears started running again. "Never!" I said. "I dread the day when you and your babies leave. You can stay for as long as you like, for as long as you need me." I parked the car in the basement and wanted to go straight up to the apartment without stopping in the lobby, but Laura would have none of that - she wanted to tell Ramone about the twins right away. I relented. "OK - I'm sure he will be excited," I said. Ramone was excited - in his unassuming unperturbed way. "That's great Miss Laura," he said with a big smile. "We'll find room for a twin-stroller no problem." He got a kiss for that. *** Wednesday was Laura's first real day, well afternoon, at work. I had arranged a meeting upstate so I wouldn't be around, but I got a full report from Joyce - and one from Laura too, of course, when I picked her up to drive us home. While worded very differently, the contents were essentially the same. The appearance of a pregnant school girl as a new colleague would under normal circumstances have been considered extremely outlandish, even for us. But Joyce and Jock had done the introductions to the various coworkers, and no one batted an eyelid. On the contrary, at the end of the day Laura's list of 'unusual friends' had lengthened considerably. After a couple of weeks, her uncanny skill for anomaly detection and her sweet easy-going nature put her high in demand. 'Leave that one for Laura' became a catch-cry when something proved hard to crack. The people working on classified material regretted loudly that they didn't have access to her, and those that did wanted more. I had to put my foot down - backed up by Joyce. "Shame on you people! She is sixteen, pregnant with twins and busy at a new school. You cannot have her more than two afternoons a week!" Joyce declared to quench the mumblings of discontent caused by my feeble attempts to communicate the same message. I did have reasons to worry. Although Laura seemed happy enough - and very affectionate towards me almost constantly, she looked very tired in the mornings. I asked her if she was managing OK, or if we should cut down on the work, but she was adamant that she loved doing it. I tried to get her to go to bed earlier, but she didn't want that either. "I love the evenings with you," she said - and I must confess I felt the same. This went on for a few weeks. *** After another dinner at Abe and Leah’s (luckily without Rachel) relations between us changed dramatically. Since it was quite late and we were both tired, we went to bed straight away, but for some reason, I slept poorly. Sometime after midnight I woke up. At first, I thought I was still dreaming because Laura was in my room - just like she had been in my dreams so many times, but this was no dream. She was there. "Laura!" I said, but in a quiet voice. "What are you doing here?" The faint light from outside was just sufficient to show her features. She looked startled. "Sorry, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." She started to cry. "Honey, that's OK. What's wrong?" I asked. "I, I, I am so scared!" she finally got out. "The days are good. School is fine, work is fine and when I'm with you, I feel absolutely safe. But the nights are awful. I have these nightmares about having my babies taken away." She wept fit to break my heart. I didn't know what to do. "George, please. May I sleep here?" My mind was racing. At one level, the obvious answer was 'No!’ The potential consequences of allowing a sixteen year old in my bed were dire. Condemnation, scandal, prison - all those things were possible. But the simple fact was that someone I loved - loved unconditionally - needed me. I lifted the duvet and made room for her. In seconds she was in the bed. I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it. "I know. No one must know. Thank you George." She rolled on her side and snuggled into me, spoon-fashion. She fell asleep almost instantly, and much to my surprise - and relief - I quickly drifted off too. My alarm clock woke us up. We had shifted slightly during the night, but not much. My arm right was wrapped around her midriff, and both her hands were holding on to mine. "Rise and shine sweetheart," I said gently into her ear. She turned around and kissed me fully on the lips. "Good morning George. This is the best I've slept for ages!" She got up to go to 'her wing' of the apartment to shower and get dressed. I did likewise, and when we met in the kitchen a little later for breakfast, I noticed a lightness in her step and a sparkle in her eyes. When I dropped her off at school I got the usual quick peck on the cheek - nothing that would make the casual observer note any changes in our relationship, but I was quite aware that things had changed - the question only was to what extent. Chapter 8 I found out that same evening. After finishing our evening tea and heading off in separate directions to get changed and ready for bed, Laura turned up in my bedroom and actually got into bed before I did. The way she looked at me was a challenge - defying me to send her back to her own room. I didn't take the bait and simply got into bed too. "Listen," I said. "We got to keep up appearances. The cleaning lady knows you are living here. Your bed should look used." "No problem!" she replied. "I'll simply take afternoon naps in it on those days when I don't work." I smiled. She really had thought about this. I kissed her - a first - and switched off the light. We snuggled up spoon-fashion again and exchanged 'good nights', but even though her breathing soon was regular, I knew she wasn't asleep yet. "Last night," I started gently. "It wasn't the first time you've come to my bedroom, was it?" There was a brief silence. "No," she said. "It wasn't. Far from it. But how did you know? I thought I had never awakened you before." "You hadn't," I replied. "But I have had recurring dreams of you standing in my room just looking at me. I must have sensed you somehow." "Oh!" she said, startled. "That is so weird." "I don't think it's weird." I replied. "Hey, it may sound lame, but think it just shows there is a deep connection between us. I have felt that from the moment I met you." She didn't say anything, but she pulled my hand closer on to her belly. We were lying closely like that, starting to drift of when I felt a fluttering movement under the palm of my hand through the flannel. "Hey, did you feel that?" I asked "Yes!" she said excitedly. "Is that what I think it is?" "Yup, that was one of your babies moving," I replied. "Haven’t you felt it before?" "Oh, this is so cool!" she said with pure joy in her voice. "And, yes, I think I may have felt something for the last couple of days, but I wasn't sure what it was." "It makes it all much more real, doesn't it?" I asked. "Sure does. Oh, I'm so glad you got to feel it too," she said. "Me too, sweetheart, me to," I replied. "Anyway, let's sleep." *** This pattern continued for a week or so. Most mornings we would wake up snuggled up closely. In general I had 'morning wood', but Laura didn't comment. On more than one occasion my hand was either on her breasts or in her crotch with her hands firmly over it. I in return didn't comment on that, but I was worried that borders were being crossed. Laura was being good to her word - outside the apartment, there was no visible change, but when we were alone at home she was openly affectionate - the constant touching now involving real kisses and hands in 'inappropriate places'. Much as I enjoyed it, I knew it was problematic and didn't know quite what to do. So when I was having a private conversation with Joyce on the Friday - planning my impending fiftieth birthday party, I had decided to test the waters. As usual, she beat me to it, sensing something was on my mind. "Spill the beans, George. Something is bugging you." "It's Laura," I said. "She is being - how can I put this? - affectionate. Very affectionate." Joyce smiled a little smile. "Ah!" she said. "Yes, I was expecting this." I must have looked like a big question mark. Joyce's smile looked teasing now. "I'm sure you can work it out. Think back twenty one years, George. Think second trimester. Think no more morning sickness. Think no worries in the world. Think being cared for and loved." I still didn't get it and said so. She gave me more hints. "Well, it is partly emotional, partly physiological. The physiological explanation is an increased blood supply to the genitals." My blank face finally made Joyce give up. "She is a hundred kinds of horny, George!" she said. The penny dropped. I was stunned, and I'm sure it showed in my face. Joyce carried on. "In Laura's case it must be particularly confusing. She was a complete virgin when she was raped. She has never dated, so no one has ever touched her. Probably not even herself - I'm sure her parents' hell-fire religion would have discouraged anything like that in the strongest possible terms. Mine certainly did. I knew how terribly bad 'it' was long before I had any idea what 'it' actually was." I laughed, then sobered up. "Well, what am I, what is she, to do?" Joyce gave me a flat look. "Listen, if a girl is horny, she can do three things: Use her hands, but that doesn't help all that much. Get a dildo, but that is not a good idea when she's pregnant. Or take a lover." She shot me a devilish grin. "If I recall rightly from transcribing the recording of your conversation with her mother, you offered to take care of all of Laura's needs. I leave it to you to work out what that entails. Now, if you will excuse me - I have to get home. Have a nice weekend George!" and she left the office. *** I think I must have driven home on 'automatic pilot' - at least, I have no recollection of the journey. When I got up to the apartment, Laura was cooking dinner - something she had taken up doing recently with great enthusiasm and growing skill. I walked up and hugged her from behind. "That smells fantastic," I said while gently rubbing her stomach. In an echo of our first morning together in the apartment, she replied "That feels fantastic." She turned around and kissed me, then ordered me to set the table. We ate dinner, talked about how our day had been and discussed plans for the weekend. For once we watched TV in the den, snuggled up closely together and drinking tea. Before long we were both yawning and decided to call it a day. The pattern of the last week repeated itself with Laura joining me in bed after she had gotten changed. But although I hadn't mentioned my conversation with Joyce, something was very different. As we 'spooned' up and I put my hand on her belly, she grabbed it and moved it up to her swelling breast. I gently squeezed first one nipple, then the other through the night gown while nuzzling the back of her neck. She was audibly purring. "Oh God, that feels so good!" "I agree - it feels fantastic. But we have to talk," I said. She rolled over, facing me. "Do we?" she said - and her hand went to my crotch. She traced the outline of my now extremely hard dick. It felt more than fantastic and my resolve started to waver. "You know, I've actually never seen one of these," she said, looking me straight in the eyes. "Laura, I'm serious. We have to talk. I'm not saying I don't like this and if I did, my dick would call the lie, but we've got to set some ground rules!" I managed. She gave my dick a little squeeze that nearly took me over the edge, but then let go. "OK," she said playfully. "Let's talk." I took a deep breath. "Right! Let's take the easy part first. We love each other." Her eyes opened wide. "It is as simple as that. I know 'love' means many things and there are many people that I love in different ways - my daughters, Joyce and Lisa, Jock, Mother Marianna and so on. But what the two of us feel for each other covers all of those meanings and more. What I'm trying to say is this: I not only love you, I am in love with you - and I am certain you feel the same." Her eyes opened even wider. She stared at me in amazement. "I thought it was supposed to be difficult and awkward declaring your love for someone, but it's not, is it? I am totally and utterly in love with you too!" She leant in to kiss me and for the first time our mouths opened and our tongues came into play. Before we got too carried away, I reluctantly broke the kiss. "No, as I said that is the easy part. I never expected this, but Mother Marianna and Joyce - and even Jock - all saw it right from the start. Anyway, on to the difficult parts. I am thirty three years older than you - and thus three times your age. You are four years younger than my youngest daughter. Society will not look with kind eyes on this." She pouted. "As if I care what people think!" "Laura, my love," I replied, "I know you don't and neither do I, but what's more - and really important - if I gave in to the temptation and put that thing" - I placed her hand back on my still very erect dick - "where we both so want me to put it" - I placed my own hand in her crotch and ran a finger along her pussy through her panties, making her shudder - "I would be just as guilty of rape as the asshole who knocked you up." "But how can that be?" she protested. "It can't be rape if I want you to!" "Oh yes it can," I replied. "Under state law it is a felony for a person over twenty one years of age to have sex with anyone under seventeen. That's why Michael raped you - regardless of what he and your bitch of a mother claims to the contrary. The simple fact of your ages condemns him. That's the main reason your mother let you stay here - even if she never signed the forms, so don't argue with that one." She nodded. "And it would equally condemn me," I added. "I am a wee bit over twenty one myself!" "But who would know?" she asked. "No one, obviously. But you can't ask me to commit a felony," I replied. "Suppose not," she sighed. "So it's no sex then?" "No," I said, "we can't have sex." My emphasis on the last word was not lost on her. Her mouth curved upwards in a sly smile. "OK, so what exactly is sex?" she asked. I had read up on the penal code, so my reply came promptly. "Vaginal, oral and anal penetration. Oh, and when it comes to oral sex, tongues are deemed to be penetrative agents too, but performing oral sex on a pregnant woman can be dangerous - even fatal - so that would be out of the question anyway." "That leaves hands..." she said, starting to rub my dick through my pjs again. "Yes, that leaves hands," I agreed, returning the favor, circling her clit through her completely soaked panties." "And that is not 'sex'?" she asked - extreme arousal obvious in her voice. "No," I replied - my own breath getting labored. "That is called 'sexual contact'." "And that is not illegal?" she asked - her hips moving rhythmically to enhance my touch. "Yes it is," I replied - feeling a tingle in my balls. "But it's not a felony. It's a class B misdemeanor." "Even with your clothes still on?" she panted. "Even through clothes. The law is very specific," I managed. "Would you commit a misdemeanor for me?" she asked between gasps. "Oh yes I would," I gasped back. We came at the same time. Her already drenched panties got even wetter and the front of my pjs was completely soaked with my ejaculate. I realized way too late that one of my bedroom windows was partly open - it always is when I sleep. But luckily she hadn't been overly loud - even so, there could be no doubt that she had liked what we did very much. As we were snuggling up closely, basking in the afterglow, she said sleepily "That was wonderful!" and then added with a little laugh "but I still haven't seen a penis..." "You will honey, believe me you will!" I said and we drifted off to sleep. *** When I woke up next morning around 8 - feeling happy and rested - it took me only a few moments, prompted no doubt by a somewhat sticky sensation in my groin area, before I remembered last night's activities. I wondered how Laura would feel about it. Usually we are pretty good at getting up and our morning routines are very efficient, but there wouldn't have been time for any serious discussion of important life matters on an ordinary weekday morning, so it was just as well it was a Saturday. Laura was still fast asleep. I studied her wild unadorned beauty and felt such tenderness towards her that I hadn't felt for decades. I was in love alright, no mistake there, even if my actions could and would be seen as grossly mistaken by others. I didn't care (and I still don't) - the only person whose opinion mattered was Laura's and she was sleeping. So I snuggled in close to her again - as closely as I could without waking her. That was made easier by the fact that she was lying on her side, but more difficult by my rampant dick - the usual morning wood having been 'reaffirmed' as it were by the memory of last night. Still, I managed - she remained asleep and I gently placed my hand over her growing belly. But I couldn't get back to sleep and I wasn't the only one awake. At least one of her babies was moving around, and while it was still only a very gentle movement, it was enough to wake Laura. "Good morning," she said. Then she scooted her lovely bottom back at me, felt my hard dick and repeated in a very coy voice "Good morning!" No, I needn't have worried that she was uncomfortable with last night's developments! Seconds later, she had rolled around, kissed me deeply and as her hand found my dick she whispered "Are you ready for another misdemeanor?" "I think you know I am," I replied with a smile. "This time I want to see it!" she exclaimed, flung back the duvet and tugged at my pj pants. She 'went to work' in a very methodical fashion, exploring my dick with one hand while constantly moving the foreskin forth and back over the head with the other - seeking and getting affirmation from me that she was doing well from the noises I was making. The way she was sitting I couldn't get to her pussy, so I reached out to play with her nipples through her night clothes. She smiled and said "You can do me later," and concentrated on her exploration. When she started to tickle my frenulum I was close to explosion. "Laura, honey," I croaked. "If you keep touching me right there I will come!" "Goody!" she said and redoubled her efforts. Moment later I came. She got if not an eyeful then a least a face full of it and I was amazed how much I had to give. She squealed and laughed. "Boy that was fun!" She accepted the Kleenex I handed her to wipe her face, but used my discarded pj pants to clear up the rest. "So that's the stuff that gets girls into so much trouble," she laughed. She swung around and kissed me. "It sounded like you liked it!" she said with a glint in her eye. "Oh yes, I liked it all right," I agreed. "And now it's your turn. Will you get naked?" She nodded and in moments, she had the night gown over her head. I gasped - she had worn the blue set to bed! She reached behind her back, undoing the bra, discarded it with a light movement and wriggled out of the soaked panties. I now had the most fabulous vision right there on the bed in front of me. She was beautiful beyond description. Nothing could be more erotic than her firm pregnant body - her engorged breast, her prominent abdomen and her swollen and wet sex. I looked her all over and was lost - and lost for words. She smiled at me more beautifully than ever and said in a husky voice "You have no idea how good it feels when you look at me that way!" I smiled. Feeling a bit overdressed, I stood up, got my pj top off - and darted over to close the windows. "Just in case we get loud," I said. She chuckled. The precaution was a good one - loud she got. She had played only with my dick, but she had many parts I wanted to explore. And while her sex was off-limits for my tongue for both legal and medical reasons, her breasts were not. When my mouth closed around one of her nipples she let out a loud groan of pleasure. So I kissed her and touched her everywhere and soon she was whimpering. With one nipple in my mouth, the other rolled and squeezed gently by my left hand and my right hand circling her prominent clit, she came with a piercing scream. Her hips arched off the mattress, copious fluid gushed out of her pussy (I luckily knew from prior experience this was not a problem), and her whole body shook. The orgasm set off Braxton-Hicks contractions that all women experience during pregnancy as a kind of 'warm up' for birth, and it took quite a while before her breathing was back to normal. All that while she stayed in my arms laughing, crying, kissing and hugging. "Now I understand what all the fuss is about. Last night was wonderful, but it was nothing compared to this. Oh wow oh wow!" I kissed her back, hugged her and stroked her hair - most other parts of her body were still too sensitive. She let out a little laugh. "What?" I said. "Oh, I was just thinking. Last week during a lunch break I was talking to Mary and Anna Beth," she started. I nodded. Those were two of her new friends at 'Sacred Heart'. Close friends, it seemed as she mentioned them so often. "Well, Mary asked me what sex was like and without thinking I simply replied that I'd never had sex." She laughed again. "They looked at me like I had three heads or something, and Anna Beth pointed at my belly, but I just said 'Oh that? That wasn't sex - that was rape. It may have been a sex-act on the part of my rapist, but it wasn't for me; I've never done anything with a boy'. They were pretty stunned at that!" I smiled. "I'm sure they must have been. I am too, in fact. Not that you haven't done anything before, I mean, but that you are able to make that distinction. I agree entirely. It's great that you see it that way." We cuddled again, but she had more on her mind. "It's amazing that it feels so much better to be touched by someone other than yourself, isn't it?" she marveled. I could only agree with that and told her so. I also made a mental note that Joyce - for once - had been just a little off the mark. Not but that I'm sure Laura's parents would have condemned masturbation, but Laura obviously, and wisely, had ignored them. *** Hunger finally drove us out of bed - in fact we had breakfast in just dressing gowns since we in silent agreement had confined our night clothes and most of the bedding to the laundry hamper. After breakfast, Laura ended up on my lap facing me - a feat still just possible, but obviously not for much longer. It had a rather predictable effect on me which she felt, and as she ground herself against me she whispered "I sooo wish you could put it in me." That obviously didn't make me any less hard and in turn I had to harden my resolve. "You know we can't," I replied. "At least not yet. By my way of reckoning we will have to wait three weeks..." Her face lit up. "That's right - I'll be seventeen two weeks after your birthday!" "Anything in particular you want for your birthday?" I asked, trying to sound innocent. "Oh yes," she replied, hopped off my lap, opened my dressing gown and landed a quick kiss on the tip of my dick. "That's what I want for my birthday!" We laughed and went to our respective - and very much needed - showers. *** It was a great weekend with lots of love and laughter. We did some much needed shopping, had dinner out on Saturday, went to a gallery and then to Vespers on Sunday - and made sweet 'misdemeanor love' both nights. When we got up Monday morning Laura looked happier and more energetic than I'd ever seen her. I know - in law and according to many people's ethics - that what we were doing was 'wrong', but it was obvious that the girl I loved was so much better for it and in consequence my own spirits were high. As usual we tried to be discreet - Laura's quick peck on my cheek as I dropped her off at school was no different from any other day, but when she came to work on Monday afternoon I could hear that she was doling out even more sunshine than usual. If I could hear it, so could Joyce, of course, so she knew right away what had happened between Laura and me - even though she hadn't seen the absolutely sizzling kiss I got when we got into my car to drive home. On Tuesday morning at the end of our daily 'morning coffee conference' in my office, Joyce hung back after the others had left, closed the door and said "I can see you and Laura worked it out." I was neither surprised nor concerned. "After a fashion," I replied. "I drew the line at committing a felony." She laughed. "That's just for three weeks, you know." Again I wasn't surprised and laughed back. "Yes, I had worked that out, and believe me - it was my very last line of defense." We both felt silent. Joyce was standing very close to me - it felt immensely comforting. In a quiet earnest voice she said "You really love that girl, don't you?" "Oh yes," I replied. "I really love her." "What are you planning to do about it?" she asked. "I am not totally sure yet. I have to talk to Elise and Jessica about it too you know," I said. "Yes, you do," she said with a funny little smile, but she offered no more information and a few seconds later Jock and one of our other top forensics experts burst into the office with an urgent issue that needed my attention. Sometimes I do have to work for a living... Chapter 9 Dealing with that, and then a couple of meetings and a conference call straight after lunch, it was mid-afternoon before I got a moment to myself and started wondering what Joyce's little smile had meant. The answer came quickly and unexpectedly; my private mobile phone started to ring. A little surprised I answered it with a non-committal "Yes?" "Dad! Who the hell is Laura Elizabeth Jones?" came the voice of Elise. "Elise, sweetheart! What are you doing in town?" I exclaimed - delighted with the surprise. "Duh! There's this guy that turns fifty and we're here for his birthday," she replied. "And how do you know we're in town by the way?" "Duh yourself" I replied. "You are in the lobby of my building, or you wouldn't know about Laura. Anyway, who is 'we'? Is Jess there too?" I asked. "Yes, she is," Elise replied. "Now, who is..." I broke in. "What about Jonathan?" Jonathan is Jessica's, or Jess as we call her, boyfriend of seven years and most likely candidate to sire any grandchildren I might eventually get. "No, he is still in Brazil," she replied. "He'll be here in time for the party, though. Anyway, who is..." Once again I interrupted her, enjoying the prolonged teasing immensely. "What party?" I asked innocently. She would have none of that. "Yes, that party! Joyce has kept us posted." I was not surprised although I'm sure they weren't meant to say anything. I simply said "Well, that's lovely..." This time it was my turn to be cut off - I could almost envisage Elise stamping her foot with annoyance. "Will you stop it! Now, who is Laura?" "Laura is my flat-mate," I said, in scrupulous accordance with the truth - if a somewhat restricted version of the truth. "Flat-mate?! Since when?" she asked. "Just under six weeks - since early February," I replied. "And how long have you known her?" Elise fired. "Just under six weeks - since early February," I repeated. "She moved in so quickly after you met?" Elise asked with incredulity in her voice. "She moved in about three hours after we met," I replied. That naturally opened up for a range of possible new lines of inquiry. After a brief hesitation, Elise chose the obvious one for an aggrieved daughter. "Why haven't you told us?" she demanded. Once more I carefully selected the most restricted truthful answer I could think of "I wasn't sure she would be allowed to stay." Bull’s-eye! Elise was stunned into silence. When she had recovered, she said "Well, who is she?" "Why don't you go up and find out?" I replied. "She should be home." "At this hour?" Elise asked. "On a Tuesday afternoon? Yes, she should be home," I replied. "Anyway, why don't you get Ramone to take you up there - I'm sure that's what you were planning on doing anyway" - she grunted assent - "and he is the only one around that knows all three of you." "Oh, well," - Elise suddenly sounded hesitant and, most uncharacteristically, shy - "are you sure? Won't it be awkward, I mean..." she trailed off. "No, as a matter of fact I think it is a good idea. A very good idea indeed and I'm sure Ramone will agree. Yes, get him to introduce you," I said. "But who IS she?" Elise said again - now in an almost pleading voice. "I'm not going to tell you any more," I said. "Form your own opinion. Just remember this one thing of what I told you: six weeks ago I had never set eyes on Laura. OK?" "Why is that important?" Elise tried in a final feeble attempt. "You'll find out soon enough. Anyway, see you at dinner time! What a lovely surprise!!!" and I ended the call. Despite this cheerful exchange with my daughter, I was perfectly aware that I had entered a minefield. Sure, I'd known all along that the minefield was there, but I now found myself in it sooner than I had expected and under circumstances I hadn't envisaged. As that realization sank in, my mood changed. I went to the front office. Joyce was on the phone, but once she'd finished she looked up. "I wanted to thank you," I said. "You're welcome," she smiled tentatively. My voice must have sounded strange. "What for?" "Two things, actually - for telling Elise and Jess about the party" - she was all smiles -"... and for not telling them about Laura," I added. "Oh, I wouldn't!" Joyce said and was about to resume writing a note when she looked up again stricken. "Hey, wait a minute. Are they at the apartment?!" Yes, she's sharp that one. "Indeed. I told them to get Ramone to take them up and let them in. They were going to do that anyway; now he can do the introductions." She was looking positively alarmed. "Is that wise? Not being there when they meet, I mean?" she asked with panic - very unlike Joyce - creeping into her voice. That did nothing to ease my fears. "Well, short of telling them to go away and come back later, the alternative was to stone-wall them about Laura, throw myself in the car to race home and effect the introductions myself - nervous, defensive and out of breath...." I trailed off. "When you put it that way, I can see your point," Joyce consented. "Do you think you need me to, you know, help explain things, this evening?" I was touched by the offer, but it was not a viable option and I simply shook my head. "Thanks, but no. We'll work it out." "I am really sorry," Joyce said - sounding it too. "I didn't even think of the possibility that your daughters would arrive without you being home. I hope it will be alright. I didn't mean to mess things up - I shouldn't have interfered." She looked down. I walked over to her, put my hands gently on both sides of her face and turned it up to make her look me in the eye. "Joyce. Sweet sweet Joyce. You cannot imagine how happy I am you have arranged for my daughters to be there for my birthday. I'm sure it will be alright." "OK," she almost sniffled. I kissed her and went back to my office to finish off some tasks. I couldn't - I was totally distracted, thinking only of what might be going on at home. Various scenarios, so unlikely that I blush writing them down, ran through my head. In the end I went to have a final cup of coffee before going home. Jock and Joyce were there too. "I hear Laura has made another two conquests," Jock said. Joyce, who had obviously confided in him, looked almost angry. "Oh, stop being such a worrier!" Jock said in his best Benjamin Bunny impersonation. "Of course they will love her. Anything else is impossible!" With Jock's certainty ringing in my ears - bless his sunny disposition - I drove home. But I must have changed my mind about likely (make that unlikely) scenarios at least a dozen times on the way - rush hour traffic was worse than ever! - and decided to take soundings with Ramone. When I stood in the lobby I realized how absurd and pathetic that was. What would he be able to tell me? That Elise and Jess had gouged Laura's eyes out in his presence? That screaming and yelling had been heard? That someone had jumped - or been thrown - out the window from the sixth floor? That blood was seeping out from under the front door? Get a grip! I told myself. As usual, Ramone was calm personified. "Good evening Mr. George," he said. "I took your daughters up to Miss Laura. It is really nice they are here for your birthday." "Thanks Ramone," I said weakly. "And how did they, I mean, were they...” I faltered. He smiled a knowing smile. "Is 'surprised' the word you're looking for? Yes, I think they were. On the way up I heard Miss Elise say to Miss Jessica that you had emphasized very strongly that you only met Miss Laura six weeks ago and she wondered why that was so important." He chuckled. "I am sure they worked that out soon enough." "I, eh," I started, but words failed me, so I shrugged and went to get the elevator. On the way up I realized that the most likely unpleasant scenario would be a frozen atmosphere. That was bad enough, of course, but it could be endured. *** What actually met me when I unlocked the front door was a total anticlimax. Rather than frosty silence or the sounds of bitchy recriminations, I heard pearls of laughter and giggling from the kitchen. When I got there, Elise, Jess and Laura were cooking dinner and having a lot of fun in the process. They sounded like they had known each other for ever. "Hello girls," I said. "This is a sight for sore eyes!" "Hi Dad!" both my daughters chirped. "Hi George!" Laura said in a similar tone of voice. They all lined up for kisses - in order of seniority - and I happily complied. The kiss I gave Laura was not lost on Elise. Our eyes met. "Relax Dad," she said. "We know." "You could have told us, you know," her older sister said. "I suppose I could. I suppose I should have actually," I agreed - not letting go of Laura who cuddled me closely. "I just didn't know how. Besides, until very recently there wasn't all that much to tell." "We know, and it's not like we want a blow by blow," Jessica started - making her little sister, always the rudest, start giggling loudly. "No Jess, they don't! Blow, I mean!" Elise said in a theatrical whisper, after which all three girls had a complete giggle fest. "OK, let's be practical," I said when some semblance of order had been restored. "I am immensely relived that you know - and that you take it so well." My daughters nodded. "But no-one else can know. Can you shut up about it? To the outside world there has to be a complete embargo on that kind of information - at least for the next three weeks, but I can't see why any of us should forgo the comfort of a proper bed." They smiled, so I continued. "I suggest Elise has Laura's room, Jess takes the spare room next to the library because it has a double bed and room for Jonathan when he arrives and Laura sleeps with me." "Sounds fine Dad," Elise agreed. "Yes, it's fine. We can shut up alright," Jessica said. "And Jonathan will too, or he can sleep on a bench in the park." The giggles returned. Dinner was nearing completion, so I set the table and went hunting for a bottle of wine in the pantry. I couldn't see why my daughters shouldn't have a glass or two just because Laura and I don't drink. As I returned with the bottle, my mobile phone rang - it was Joyce. "George is everything alright?" she asked, still sounding nervous. I decided to play a prank on her. "No Joyce, not exactly," I said - making my voice as toneless as possible. "The girls have murdered Laura and are now both standing on window ledges threatening to jump. Could you maybe talk to Jessica and persuade her to come back in?" Jess would have none of that. "Oh Daaad!" she yelled, yanked the phone out of my hand and spoke to Joyce. "Don't listen to that old bastard. Everything is fine - we love Laura to bits. We had only just decided to forgive him for not telling us; now we'll make him pay for being so nasty to you!" She shot me a dirty look, but Joyce must have said something funny because she couldn't hold it and broke down laughing. Over dinner Jess explained. Joyce had confessed that what I said matched one of the morbid scenarios that had gone through her head. She had been all nerves when she got home. Lisa had told her not to be such a baby and finally urged her to call me just to hear everything was OK - only to be met by my dead tone of voice. Elise declared that I was 'a nasty piece' and that I didn't deserve to have someone as lovely as Joyce looking after me. Jess agreed entirely and Laura concurred. I should have expected they would gang up on me! Funny thing was that I didn't mind. Dinner was a hilarious affair; this was turning into a great evening. *** Laura excused herself after dinner saying she had homework to do, although I'm sure it was mainly to give me some time with Elise and Jess, but I wanted some practical things out of the way first. Elise volunteered to do the kitchen while Jess and I found bedding and towels and so on. We were putting sheets on the double bed in what was going to be hers and Jonathan’s room when she looked up at me "She is really lovely Dad," she said. "I'm so glad you found her." "You honestly don't mind?" I asked. "I mean, she is so much younger than you and Elise." "I honestly don't mind. You are making each other happy - that's the only thing that counts," she replied - looking so much like her late mother it was uncanny. "And the babies?" I asked. "Hmm, yes." She looked straight at me. "Actually I wasn't going to tell you until Jonathan is here, but never mind. You know he's been offered a research fellowship?" I nodded. I knew about that and was delighted. Finding a good job is difficult for a biologist and as an added bonus it meant they would only be a few hours away from me. "Well," she continued. "Obviously they have an English Department there too. And without me knowing it, Jonathan - the perfect sweetheart - sent them my resume. To cut a long story short - 'cause there was a lot more to it than that of course - I've been offered a PhD scholarship." "Jess! That is fantastic!" I gushed. "I'm so happy for you." "I am too," she replied - and she certainly did look happy. "But it means that baby-plans have been put on hold for a while." I was taken slightly aback. I didn't even know they had baby-plans and said so. "Oh Dad," she said, "I know you're looking forward to having grandchildren. But as I said, I won't be providing them any time soon and Elise is starting med school next year." "Not to mention her having to find someone to have children with, were she so inclined," I interjected - Elise's last couple of boyfriends had been decidedly sub-standard on my undoubtedly impossibly exacting scale, "Not to mention that," Jess agreed, "and we don't!" No, I knew it to be a sore point for Elise. I shook my head emphatically. "Anyway," Jess said. "What I'm trying to say is this: You are so ready to look after more babies. Isn't it just perfect that Laura can provide them?" I smiled, but it must have been a strange smile - Jess said "What?" "Oh, I was just wondering how many people can see it that way," I mused. "One in a million? Less? Probably less. The odds against any other grown daughter saying that to her widowed father must be astronomical." Jess smiled; again looking so much like her mother it distracted me. "We were never 'ordinary' in this family, were we?" "No," I laughed. "You can say that again." We finished the beds - including 'Laura's'; she was actually busy studying when we went through her living room - and reconvened in the kitchen where Elise was just putting the last few things away. "Tea?" I asked "For four!" Elise said and went to get Laura while I made the tea. Elise was almost dragging Laura to the kitchen. "... but I thought you wanted to be together as a family," she protested as they came in to the kitchen. "We do," Jess said. "And that includes you." It was the first tears I had seen in Laura's eyes for a while. They were happy tears. We drank the tea, but after the first cup my daughters - Jess especially who had travelled the furthest - were yawning desperately so we called it a day. *** After the day's emotional turmoil - even if it all resolved itself so well - I had expected to be pretty tired, but I wasn't and having a near naked Laura in my arms had the usual effect on me. "George!" she hissed. "Your daughter is just up the corridor!" "And?" I asked lightly. "Well, what if she, you know, hears us and finds out what we're doing," she replied. I had to laugh. "She knows what we're doing. In fact it seems she and her sister know exactly what we are doing - and not doing!" "Um, yes, well, they were so sweet and so kind so, I, you know, told them," Laura replied. There was too little light for me to see if she was blushing, but I was certain she was. "But it is different actually doing it while they are here," she added. I challenged her logic. "How so?" She failed to reply - possibly because my lips had closed over her nipple. "All right," she relented. Ten or fifteen minutes later there was nothing hesitant about her utterances any more. *** Wednesday morning was the usual rushed affair. My daughters slept in. We left them Laura's keys as she would be at work in the afternoon and we would come home together. After the morning meeting Joyce tried to look sternly at me, but failed miserably. Apparently Lisa had nearly wet herself laughing over my prank. We swapped notes on our morbid scenarios and ended up in stiches. "Oh boy, we certainly needn't have worried!" Joyce concluded with a chuckle and we got back to work. Both Thursday and Friday afternoon Elise and Jess went shopping with Laura. She needed proper maternity wear now and my daughters had great fun helping her find it. I had finally persuaded Laura to accept a Visa card - and made it clear to them that it had a very generous limit, so Laura's was not the only wardrobe getting an update. Their bonding continued, leading to several more 'ganging up' episodes in the evenings. I can't remember when I had last been this happy. On Saturday afternoon while Joyce, Elise and Laura got the last things ready for the party, Jess and I drove to the airport to pick up Jonathan. He would be fairly tired after a long flight, but at least Brazil is only a couple of time zones off Eastern Time so he wouldn't struggle with jet lag. He and Jess hadn't seen each other for several weeks while he was on his field trip, so I was touched they would spend time with me right away and told them so. "I wouldn't miss your party for anything," Jess replied. "And if Jonathan gets too tired I will just put him to bed." "That sounds nice!" Jonathan purred. "That is just how Laura would react if I suggested something similar," I said. It was a deliberate hint and the bait was taken. "Who is Laura, and why would she need to be put to bed?" Jonathan asked at once. Jess explained, as in explained everything. I was concerned that Jonathan’s reaction would be markedly less positive than Jess' and Elise's, but once more it was a case of 'needn't have worried'. "I readily admit it sounds unusual, but if Jess and Elise are that keen on her too then it must be alright. I'm looking forward to meeting her." Chapter 10 My fiftieth birthday party was great fun. I may have a large apartment, but it was packed with people. Almost my entire staff and their families were there plus numerous friends - naturally including Abe and Leah, Ramone and Debbie and even Mother Marianna. In such a sea of diversity, a blonde pregnant school girl didn't seem nearly as out of place as she would have in most other places. I noticed that either Jess or Elise stayed close to Laura almost the entire evening. Not in a demonstrative way, but nevertheless putting on a touching display of family solidarity. It wasn't lost on Mother Marianna's wise old eyes. "I see your daughters have taken to Laura," she said. "Oh yes," I replied happily. "So much so that the three of them are ganging up on me." "You seem remarkably complacent about that," she chuckled. "Anyway," she continued. "If I can briefly talk shop. We have never gotten any paperwork from Laura's old school - I don't think her parents ever signed that form you mentioned." I shook my head. "No, they haven't - neither the one for you nor the one for me. We have heard nothing." "Well," she said, "I didn't let that stop us. Laura's report sheet was duly sent to her parents. I defy any parent to take issue with it. She has As across the board and the most glowing testimonials from practically all her teachers praising her leadership and brilliance. Even her Phys Ed teacher expressed admiration for the care she takes in keeping herself fit and preparing her body for birth." "Wow!" I said, enormously pleased. "Yes, she is an unusual child - brilliant and mature beyond measure," Mother Marianna agreed. "Listen, it is early days I know, but I don't think there is any reason why she shouldn't graduate next year. If you arrange for some practical help then she should be able to keep up with the others through home study. I can authorize that she more or less comes and goes as she pleases - showing up for tests would help her keep track of where she stands. She is so bright I'm sure she can pass all her exams next summer." "What sort of help were you thinking of?" I asked. "Well, while the babies are very small it should be someone experienced. An old fashioned nurse, in fact if you can find one. Later you could hire an au-pair," Mother Marianna said. I saw possibilities in this. Mother Marianna was right; it was early days and many things could happen - and would happen, like the birth! - but Laura's chances of getting through this life episode well looked bright. *** Neither Laura nor Jonathan had to be 'put to bed' but we were all pretty tired when the last guests left. Ramone and Debbie stayed to the end and helped making the apartment at least habitable although we didn't do much by way of cleaning - I had enlisted my regular cleaning lady to come for an extra session Sunday. As Ramone and Debbie were about to leave, Debbie took me aside. "I noticed the nature of your and Laura's relationship has changed," she said. That was hardly detective work; Laura had been on my arm when we received the guests and again when we farewelled people; any casual observer would have assumed Laura was the hostess. "It is quite different from what she told me and Lorraine five weeks ago," she continued. Her voice was level, but I sensed danger. I refused to be intimidated or forced to the indignity of lying. "Yes, that's true," I replied. "We have fallen in love with each other." "I take it I don't have to tell you what the law says?" she asked. "No, you don't," I said, "but I had to tell Laura." Debbie looked taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?" "I had to tell her that if I did what she wanted me to, in the eyes of the law I would be no different from the guy who did it against her will. So we don't. At least not while she is under the age of consent," I said. Then with a grin I added "Happily that's not for much longer!" Debbie had looked less tense during the first part of my answer, but now she flared up. "George, it's not that simple. You still can't have sex with her if she is in your care," she protested. "But she isn't!" I said. "Even if her parents had signed those forms - and they never did - I would not be her guardian. In exactly two weeks she will be seventeen and can go, 'eh, can have sex with anyone she likes - provided the other person is over seventeen too." I very nearly said 'go to bed', but changed it to 'have sex' in the last moment. 'The truth and nothing but the truth is fine; the whole truth is for Boy Scouts,' as the old saying goes. Debbie still looked uncomfortable - she obviously had personal issues with a fifty year old and a seventeen year old together, even if the law didn't. She changed track and voiced that objection. "Possibly. But do you think she should? Do you think it is right, George?" I caught her flickering gaze and held it. "Yes Debbie, I do. And I respect that you don't." She surrendered. "You're in for a lot of flak," she said. "I know Debbie," I replied. "Lots of it. But I think it's worth it." She gave me a little smile, pecked me on the cheek and ran to the elevator that Ramone was pointedly holding open. "Good night - thank you for a lovely party," she called as the doors closed behind her. "What was that about?" Jess asked - my conversation with Debbie had not gone unnoticed and while I don't think the words had been heard, our body language must have been loud and clear. "Oh, Debbie is not too keen on me and Laura falling in love," I said. "Can she, you know, do anything?" Elise asked - giving voice to the very concern that was painted on Laura's face. "No," I said - with more certainty than I felt. "I told her we're not having sex before Laura is seventeen and since I'm not Laura's guardian in any shape or form, there is nothing to stop us after that date." It was only partially true. At seventeen Laura would be free to agree to have sex, but not being an adult she was not free to decide where she lived. In a sense we were in for 'a year in limbo'. I felt no reason to bring that concern up at 2 in the morning though and instead we all went to bed. "Do you think we have to worry about Debbie?" Laura asked as she snuggled up close to me. "Nah," I said. "Ramone will beat her into submission - verbally, I mean." "Mmmmm," Laura said, but I think that was an answer to what I was doing to her nipples. *** We slept in - and very nearly got caught by the cleaning lady who had decided to come a bit early. But nearly isn't quite; by the time she started her whirlwind cleaning process, Laura, Jonathan, my daughters and I were all sitting in the kitchen in dressing gowns eating breakfast. And who's to say who slept in which bed? We lazed around all day, tried to make a dent in the pile of leftovers for dinner and watched a movie before bedtime. Monday morning before going to school, Laura said goodbye to Jess and Jonathan who would be leaving around mid-day. I had taken the morning off to drive them to the airport. Or so Joyce informed me. The scheduled meetings I thought I had were bogus. So we got to sit down, Elise, Jess, Jonathan and I, talking things over. Jonathan asked the most questions, and mainly I had answers ready, but one of his questions did trigger a lot of soul searching. "Do you think she will stay, permanently, I mean?" he asked. "Honestly, I don't know," I replied. "But you want her to." It was more a statement than a question. "Yes, I want her to," I replied. "Oh, she'll stay," Elise said. "But, I mean. Should she?" I asked - suddenly able to voice my inner turmoil. "Should I accept that? I will be an old man by the time those kids are teenagers. Will that be good for them?" "Dad," Jess replied. "Other men have kids at fifty. It is not all that rare, you know. Stay healthy and fit. That's all you can do." I knew that of course, but I voiced the real question. "Yes, but what about Laura? She's not quite seventeen, I'm fifty. Do I have the right to take her youth away?" Jonathan’s reply was prompt, sharp and poignant. "George, it was her rapist that did that, he and her bloody parents. You are giving her a unique chance to get her life back." *** Elise was meeting up with a friend so we dropped her off in town on the way to the airport. Jess and Jonathan were going up to their new university town to start hunting for somewhere to live. "Listen," I said just as they were to go through security. "Don't rent a shitty place. Buy something. The market is rock-bottom and you will be there for at least five years - and forever if the tenure track comes good. But even after five years, I'm sure these strange times will have ended if you want to sell by then." "That's all very well," Jonathan said, "but a research fellow in Biology and a PhD student in English Literature don't score high on credit ratings." "I've instructed Abe to take care of that little detail," I replied. "Get in touch with him - I think you'll find that having GBS IT-Sec backing you will help a bit!" Jonathan looked stunned and Jess flung herself in my arms. "Oh Dad, thank you!" "And you spring that on us moments before we absolutely have to leave!" Jonathan said with a shake of his head. "Of course," I laughed. "I couldn't have a little detail like a quarter of a million dollars standing in the way of your honest opinion, could I?" They both laughed - until the somber nature of airport security forced them to resume a serious demeanor. *** I picked Laura up at 'Sacred Heart' and drove us to work in high spirits. We have a very nice work environment at my company, but today the atmosphere was even friendlier. Everyone made comments about how great the party had been - both to me and to Laura, cementing the complete acceptance of her as my partner. Joyce laughed when she heard about the cleaner, but she didn't like hearing about Debbie at all. "Debbie's OK, but not very imaginative," she said. "And if she tells Lorraine about it in the wrong way, there could be trouble." "But how?" I said. "There is absolutely no proof of anything illegal." "True," Joyce said. "And there won't be - especially if you're not careless again, you twit,” she said with an obvious reference to the cleaning lady, “but still - if Lorraine decides she doesn't like the situation either, she could work with Laura's parents. She only got on board because Laura more or less convinced them you're a saint. If they find out you're a sinner, she may change track." I nodded, and I'm sure I didn't look all that happy. "It's not that I want to be a party pooper," Joyce said - with clear reluctance in her voice. "But we also have to factor in that Laura's parents may decide to finally reenter the game. They have to be involved one way or the other before July. No hospital will admit a teenager giving birth to twins without having cast-iron arrangements about next-of kin and so on. Home birth is not an option either; first time and twins make that a no-no from an insurance point of view. No midwife would dare become involved." I knew all that of course even if I had somehow suppressed it. Now I was really worried, but I did my best to keep it from Laura - and from Elise when we got home. I largely succeeded and we had a lovely last evening together before Elise was due to go back to her pre-med studies - with a check from me to cover her course costs and a handsome supplement for a living allowance, enabling her to reduce the amount of work she had to do besides her studies. "You didn't have to do that!" she said, but she was obviously pleased. "You didn't have to back me up all the way over Laura," I replied. "Of course I did," she said. "It is impossible not to love her!" This conversation took place in the airport just after Elise had checked in for a late evening flight. She hugged first me and then Laura - who had hung back a little to allow Elise and me to have a few words in private. "You are the best thing that could have happened to my Dad," she said. "And frankly, I think my Dad is the best thing that could have happened to you. Take care and keep in touch!" She smiled and waved as she walked towards security. *** We drove home in silence. The visit by my daughters had been fantastic. Them coming for my birthday was great; their acceptance of Laura and their unequivocal support amazing. I parked the car in the basement and was just about to say something when Laura spoke - once more her mind had followed similar tracks to mine. "You know George," she said. "What we've just experienced with Jess and Elise - that was amazing. I just can't get over how open they were to me, and how well they took it all." I nodded. "Well, I guess I was a little surprised too. I kid myself that it's the result of trying to bring them up tolerant and broad minded. Preaching inclusiveness featured big in their upbringing. I'm sure they found it embarrassing at times - especially during their early teens, but it worked quite well." Laura grinned; all teenagers know about embarrassing parents, but then she turned serious. "I want these two" - she padded her belly - "to be brought up the same way." I smiled. "That is one of the nicest compliments I've ever had!" We walked towards the elevator. Laura said something so quietly I couldn't hear it, so I asked her to repeat it. "I can't do it alone," she said - still barely above a whisper. "Will you help me with that - too?" "You mean with bringing up the babies?" I asked - my heart fluttering like that of a teenager. She nodded, looking scared. "I'd love to - you know I will," I replied. "I didn't dare hope you'd want me to!" "I can't imagine ever wanting to leave," she said as she melted into my arms. That night I found it extra difficult to obey our self-imposed restriction on real sex. I brought Laura off three times with my hands and was so excited I exploded in a massive orgasm after just a few strokes by Laura's silky soft hands on my dick - like I was some young inexperienced teenager. As we were cuddling closely afterwards - face to face for once, Laura looked me in the eye and made the most astonishing declaration of love. "I so wish the babies were yours," she said. I felt completely lost for words. *** The next two weeks almost flew. Laura established herself as an indispensable member of the analysis team at work. The fact she was only there part time was grudgingly accepted; Joyce would come down like a ton of bricks on anyone who tried to put more load on Laura than she could handle. Her school life - both actual school work and the social side - functioned very well too. She was particularly close to Mary and Anna Beth and spent many afternoons with them in the way ordinary teenagers do. Anna Beth's very devout parents hadn't been too keen in the beginning, thinking that Laura had 'loose morals' and would be a 'bad influence'. But when Anna Beth told Mrs. Cameron - a matronly woman of ample proportions whom we had met several time at Vespers - that the pregnancy was the result of a rape, that Laura had refused to even consider an abortion and that she was now being cared for by a close friend of Mother Marianna, they turned around completely and welcomed her in the their home. So she was with Mary and Anna Beth - actually shopping for party dresses - the Friday before her birthday. They had gone straight to Anna Beth's apartment from school so I was the first one home that afternoon and thus the one to collect the mail. That included a stack of birthday cards - I recognized both Elise's and Jess' handwriting - and a thick and rather heavy envelope that had 'Nora E. Jones' as the sender on the back. Ramone was in the lobby and I handed him that letter with the back side up. "The mother?" he asked. I nodded. "Hmm," he said. "That's a first, isn't it?" I nodded again. "Well, it would seem her mother-instincts aren't totally gone," he said, weighing the envelope in his large hand. "It feels like there's some sort of present in it." "That's what I thought too," I agreed. Well, I shall hide this hoard so Laura can have them in the morning. He handed the envelope back and went to collect something. "You can add these to the pile," he said and handed me another envelope and a small beautifully wrapped present. "Debbie found her a nice pair of earrings." "Thank you! That's really sweet of you; she will be so pleased," I said. "But don't you want to come up tomorrow and give it to her in person?" "No, that's OK", he replied. "Debbie has gone upstate again this weekend - her father's just had an operation, so she is helping her mother - and I know Miss Laura is having a party for her young friends." Of course Ramone would know that. I thanked him again and headed up to the apartment. It was the first time in nearly two months that I had spent an evening home alone. Until I met Laura, I had been mostly alone for several years and not worried about it. Now I suddenly felt really alone - in much the same way as when Elise left for college shortly after my wife died. I realized how much I loved having Laura around and missed her so much it hurt. But she would be home late - she and Mary were having dinner at the Cameron's (fish, undoubtedly - it was Friday after all) and then the three girls were going to see some chick flick. I had expressed concern that she would get too tired, but she had just laughed and reminded me - again - that pregnancy is not an illness. I busied myself with some of the cooking for Laura's birthday party. It was after 11 when she came back. Anna Beth and her father had walked her home - they live only a block away, but Mr. Cameron didn't want 'teenaged girls walking the streets that late' as he put it, and since I mostly agreed, I simply thanked him and wished him and his wife a nice weekend, reminding Anna Beth that we would be seeing her in the morning. "So, did you have a nice time with the girls?" I asked after the Camerons had left. "Oh yes," she said. "A great day. We got some really cool stuff. Anna Beth is coming over a bit early to change here; her parents would have a fit if they saw her in that dress!" I laughed. "I'm sure they would also have a fit if they knew where you sleep - not to mention what we do in bed when we're not sleeping." She smiled a funny little smile, but didn't say anything. "Anyway," I said, "you must be bushed. Off to bed with you!" "I was actually hoping for a cup of tea," she said. "I'm too hyped up to sleep now." I reluctantly agreed - it was Friday after all and she could sleep in in the morning - so while Laura went to the bathroom I made the tea. We sat and drank it in the living room as usual and Laura was chatting freely about the shopping expedition, the dinner (yes, fish) and the movie - which had been a bit more racy that the rating had suggested - but there was something detached about her chatting and I noticed she was glancing over my head frequently. I didn't think to inquire why, but suddenly in mid-sentence, she said "Right!", stood up, pulled her sweat shirt over her head and dropped her skirt. She was stark naked underneath! "It's midnight," she said pointing to the clock on the wall. "I am seventeen now. It's finally legal. Please fuck me." Chapter 11 To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I was staring at her, mouth agape no doubt, but I honestly don't know. "H-here?" I finally managed to stammer. "Yes, here," she said, "and in the kitchen and the laundry and the den and everywhere else in the goddam apartment, but I was thinking we would start in the bedroom. I want my first time to be in a real bed." I smiled inwardly at the apparent paradox of a nearly six month pregnant girl planning her 'first time'. But to Laura's way of thinking it made sense. "You asked for it sweetheart," I said, took her by the hand and walked towards our bedroom. "Don't you feel terribly overdressed?" she cooed and started to work on the buttons of my shirt with her free hand. I swung her around and kissed her deeply. "Impatient are we?" I teased as I let go of her mouth. By way of answer she undid my belt, the zip and the button on my trousers making them drop down round my ankles. That didn't make it any easier to walk. I kicked off my slippers and stepped out of my trousers - not very gracefully, I fear. "If we carry on this way, we won't make it to the bedroom!" I said. "Is the corridor on your lists of places you want to do it?" She laughed, but continued with my shirt, getting it off of me. I was now only wearing socks and boxer shorts - the latter looking like a tent. Laura spotted it of course and moments later she was literally dragging me along by my dick. Not exactly dignified, but huge fun. "Come along to the bedroom and strip for me," she said. "You haven't left much for me to strip," I laughed. We did make it to the bedroom and I got rid of boxers and socks. Laura had gotten into bed and was studying me with a hungry expression. She had spread her legs in the most inviting way. But at nearly six months and with twins, the good old-fashioned missionary position was ruled out; it would be too uncomfortable. I am a very ordinary man; average in size and no contortionist. So ignoring the obvious invitation, I lay down on the bed next to her instead and started kissing and touching her everywhere. Her pussy was soaking wet and her nipples standing very erect. "I get the feeling you're ready for this," I hinted. "Put it in me noooow," she whimpered - pulling at me to get me on top. "It will work better with you on top," I said. She looked momentarily confused, but then swung a leg over and tried to make contact. She couldn't see very much - her belly was in the way, but I guided my dick to her pussy and with a huge sigh of contentment she lowered herself on me. "Oh God, I've waited for this. It feels soooo nice!" she said and started a gentle rocking motion forth and back. I could only agree. Laura was in control of both depth and speed, leaving me with very little to do so I started playing with her nipples. That gave me something to do - holding on for dear life! Listen, pregnant sex is fun! Some people - both men and women - are turned off by the idea; I can only pity them. Sure, the mechanical issues can be a challenge the closer you get to the due date, but the fact is that both breasts and vagina are much more sensitive due to the increased blood supply. It is easy for a pregnant woman to come. Laura and I knew that of course from our mutual petting over the last three weeks, but nothing had prepared Laura for the stimulus of a nice hard dick in her pussy and once I also started playing with her breasts it only took a few minutes before the first of many orgasms shook her body. By the time I came, she was in the throes of a massive continuous orgasm, and wow - was she loud! She finally collapsed on top of me, crying, laughing and panting at the same time. "Happy birthday sweetheart," I whispered in her ear. "Oh George! Thank you. That was fabulous," she said when her breathing was finally under control. "Do you want your other presents now, or can you wait until the morning?" I asked lightly. "Now I can wait," she giggled and rolled off of me. Moments later she was asleep. I covered us with the duvet and snuggled up close. My good life had just gotten massively better. *** Next morning - the morning of her birthday - we slept in. I'm usually not all that good at doing so, but I slept like a log and only woke up because Laura was playing with me. My cock, I mean. "Good morning," she said when she noticed I was awake. My dick was very hard. "You'll wear me out. Remember I'm an old man," I said with mock severity. "On the contrary," she said. "I'll keep you young." And with that, she swung her leg over and lowered herself on me in one smooth movement. "You're a quick learner!" I observed. "Oh yes!" she breathed when she started riding me. But if that was a confirmation of what I had said or an approval of the sensations in her pussy wasn't quite clear. After only a few moments she lost language altogether when I started playing with her nipples and after a matter of minutes she came with a wail like a banshee. It was too quick for me, but I didn't mind and she didn't even notice. "I can't believe how good this is," she panted. "I can totally understand what the fuss is about. But why would anyone have religious hang-ups about sex? That is just weird. Something as beautiful and good and loving - and fun - as what we have simply can't be bad!" I agreed, of course - although many people don't. I was happy she saw it this way though and made a mental note-to-self that joy-less religions would have to count Laura as a lost cause. Good thing, that! I turned to matters practical. "I was going to serve you birthday breakfast in bed," I said. "But someone made me sleep so well I missed the opportunity." She smiled. "Guilty as charged. And it doesn't matter; we'll just make it together." So we did - half an hour later we were sitting down for breakfast in just dressing gowns. "OK," I said when she had finished eating. "Time for presents." "You mean other presents," she giggled. I smiled and handed her the various cards, letters and presents. The earrings from Debbie and Ramone were very pretty and Elise had sent her an 'I Love My Bump' maternity shirt which she adored. The second last present was from me. It was an envelope with vouchers for a trip to Florida in the upcoming spring break. "I checked with Noelle - you'll be OK flying," I said. She was ecstatic. "Fantastic," she said. "I've never been to Florida. Thank you sooo much!" "You're welcome sweetheart," I replied. "I'm rather looking forward to it myself." We chatted a bit about the trip and she was just about to get up when I stopped her. "There is one more letter," I said. I don't know if it was my voice or the timing, but she suddenly looked very seriously at me. "My parents?" she asked quietly. I met her gaze. "Your mother," I replied and handed her the envelope. She noticed how heavy it was and deduced, like Ramone and I had, that there was a present inside. That made her slightly less tense. But she was still nervous and her hands shook a little as she opened it. It contained a card and something wrapped in tissue paper. She unwrapped that first and looked completely stunned. It was a heavy and very beautiful gold bangle - I am shocked it had been sent by ordinary mail. It looked quite old to me and Laura immediately confirmed that. "It belonged to my grandmother, but she gave it to Mom before I was born. I've always loved it!" she almost whispered. Big fat tears were rolling down her cheeks. I handed her a Kleenex. "That's wonderful sweetheart." She dried her eyes and - visibly - braced herself to read the card. She only got through one or two lines before her eyes were full of tears again. "Will you read it for me?" she asked, handing me the card. I nodded and started reading aloud. 'My dearest Laura. Happy birthday. Not a single day goes by without me thinking of you. Your new principal sent me the sweetest little letter with your school report so I know from her - and from Hannah who seems to be in contact with you on the computer - that you are well and that Mr. Smith is looking after you. I feel like such a failure for not being the one to do so. I am so ashamed that you had to go to strangers when you needed me the most. I am trying to make your father see it that way, but it is difficult. Please forgive me. Love Mom.' Laura was crying quietly. "There is a PS," I said. She nodded and I read it. 'PS: You know the bangle quite well. Grandma gave it to me when I was pregnant with you. I am now giving it to you; if you have a daughter then I hope you will give it to her when she is pregnant with her first child.' It took a while before Laura was sufficiently calm to speak. "I hadn't expected that," she said. "I, I..." she started crying again. "Neither had I," I said gently. "It is a wonderful present, isn't it?" She nodded. "I have had many wonderful presents today," she said. *** We cleared the kitchen and went to have our - overdue - showers. We had recently started doing it together in my bathroom which has a huge shower stall. It may not be very efficient but it's certainly fun doing it that way. As I was lathering up Laura's gorgeous body everywhere - something she audibly enjoyed - I suddenly remembered a passage in her mother's card that I hadn't understood. "Who is Hannah, by the way?" I asked. "She's our neighbors’ daughter," Laura replied - looking slightly surprised that I should bring that up now, but she had gotten used to my stray thoughts and elaborated on her answer. "She is three and a half years younger than me and really really sweet. Pretty much the little sister I never had. We've been chatting on the Internet since I moved here, so she knows about you." I raised my eyebrows and cleared my throat loudly - considering I had one hand on her breast and another in her crotch, that could sound dubious. "Well, not everything!" she giggled. "Anyway, I invited her to come here today, but her parents wouldn't let her. They are fairly strict - they belong to the same Church as my parents." I resumed the lathering and for the next little while we didn't speak. But then Laura added "I didn't know she had talked to Mom. I'm glad she did, though." When Laura was clean - very clean - everywhere she started doing me. Having her rub her gorgeous pregnant body against mine was fabulous and when her soapy hands ran over my dick it was brought back to full life. "Niiiiice!" Laura cooed. "And you claimed you were an 'old man' - I don't see any signs of that!" She was now gently soaping my scrotum, making me - if possible - even harder. "By the way, did you actually come this morning?" she asked. I shook my head with a smile. "No, you were too fast for me." "Well, we can't have you feeling left out, can we?" she said. "And besides, there's one more thing I want to try now that it's legal." With that, she lowered herself down on her knees so her face was in crotch height. She leaned in and engulfed my dick in her warm wet mouth. Once more she was a fast learner. She had explored my dick with her hands many times so she knew where my most sensitive spots are. I didn't have to warn her about teeth or anything; the stimulation was nothing short of perfect and it didn't take long to get me close to the edge. "Laura - I'm going to come!" I croaked. "Mmmmmmmmmm," she almost hummed on my dick, still moving her mouth forth and back over the shaft while her tongue tickled my frenulum. She increased the suction and I came like a fire hose. Ah, well, it felt like I came like a fire hose. She stood up again, rubbing her breast against me all the way up. She leaned in to kiss me and although she had swallowed I could faintly taste my sperm. That was a first for me, but it didn't turn me off. At all. "Wasn't that fun!" she said with a sparkle in her eyes. "Laura, that was sensational!" I panted when I finally had breath again. *** We got dressed and headed out to buy a few last minute things for the party. We had a salmon bagel on the run and were back in the apartment just before 1. "Anna Beth and Mary will come around 4:30 and the rest of the guests are invited for 6," she said. "I don't think we need to start cooking until around 3, so I'm going to lie down for a while." "Your bed or mine?" I asked flippantly. "Mine I think," she replied - completely seriously - and took my hand. "But I'll kick you out when I need to sleep - it is too narrow for two." I had really only meant it for a joke, but once more I ended up stripping off while making my way down the corridor - this time the western one. By the time we go to the bedroom, we were both naked - our clothes strewn everywhere. 'Laura's' bed is narrower than mine, but it is wider than an ordinary single bed. When we got there I had a thought. I was standing behind her - my rampant dick rubbing against her delicious ass, my hands roaming over her breast and belly - and whispered in her ear "Want to try it doggy-style?" "What's that?" she asked innocently. "Just what it sounds like," I replied. "You on your hands and knees, me entering you from behind." "Sounds like fun!" she said, and got on the bed in that position. "I believe it is. I've never tried it," I replied. For some reason my late wife had never liked the idea even though I'm sure it would have added to the enjoyment of our sex during her pregnancies. But she had felt uncomfortable, finding the position slightly humiliating, and that killed it off, of course. Sex is about trust and sharing. Anyway, Laura had no such reservations. I played with her pussy and clit from behind and she got wet in no time. It was fun! Once we had worked out the right angle that is. When I entered her she sighed contentedly. "I just love that feeling." "Me too. And I just love giving you that feeling," I replied. At first I had reached up to play with her nipples, but after a little while I simply held her hips. We established a nice slow rhythm, Laura moving to meet my gentle thrusts. It took a little longer than the previous times, but soon she was getting there. "This is so gooood," she whimpered. "So close, so close, I'm going to come, I'm going to come, noooooow!" The rest of her utterances did not resemble language. She lowered herself to her elbows, resting her head in the pillow. It muffled the sound level a bit, but I had no doubt that she was having a major orgasm; her pussy was contracting around my dick. I was right behind her - in more ways than one! - and for the third time in just over twelve hours I came too. I got off of her and covered her. Then I kneeled on the floor next to the bed and caressed her to sleep. I collected our discarded clothes, had a quick shower, got dressed and went to the kitchen. We were going to serve Lebanese food - of course - and I had made most of the labor intensive things like Tabouleh, Hummus and Baba Ghanoush the night before. Now I diced the lamb we had bought and marinated the fish. I checked on Laura around 3, but she was still sleeping and I let her have another hour before gently waking her in much the same way as I had caressed her to sleep. "What time is it?" she asked sleepily. "Just before 4," I replied. Her eyes opened wide in alarm. "Yikes! Anna Beth and Mary will be here in half an hour and what about the cooking?" she protested. I hastened to calm her. "Don't worry; I've done what needed to be done in the kitchen. You just go have a shower." "Alone?" she asked in a very suggestive tone of voice. "Yes, alone, or you will still be naked when your friends get here!" I laughed. She got up and walked to 'her' bathroom in all her pregnant glory - completely free and relaxed about being naked with me. "Are you sure?" she tried one last time. "I'm sure," I laughed. "But there is always tonight once the guests have left." "I'll hold you to that," she said before closing the door. Chapter 12 She took her time so she was still not quite out of the bathroom when the intercom buzzed to announce the arrival of her friends. But she entered the hall - wearing just a dressing gown and a towel round her hair - by the time I was opening the door for Mary and Anna Beth. I had actually never met Mary and only exchanged a few words with Anna Beth, so Laura made a formal introduction. "George, meet Mary and Anna Beth my very best friends at school -" the girls giggled and studied me and I said a polite 'how do you do,' "- and Mary and Anna Beth, meet George, my mentor, benefactor, employer, best friend and love of my life." The girls squealed. "Wow - that sounds official!" Anna Beth said. "That I love him?" Laura asked. "Yes, that's official. There are certain advantages of turning seventeen..." She let that notion hang in the air, but Mary got it. "You mean you -" she started, but then her hand flew to cover her mouth and she stared at me wide-eyed. "I'll leave you girls to it," I said and beat a hasty retreat. I could hear squeals and loud giggles all the way down the corridor. As I had expected getting dressed and dolled up took a long time. Although Laura had said she would be helping with the cooking, I knew that wasn't going to happen and I had planned it so I had everything ready and simmering slowly at a quarter to six - only needing to heat up the Lebanese flat-bread at the last moment. The girls entered the kitchen and I could see at once that the decision to keep Anna Beth's dress out of her parents view was a wise one. Anna Beth has Mrs. Cameron's generous curves and in combination with the dress, she was sending a clear message - 'Please fuck me; I want to get pregnant!' I silently thanked my stars that it was a girls-only party, or I would have had to be the Protector of Miss Cameron's Virtue - something I didn't really fancy. Mary, otherwise clearly less innocent than Anna Beth, had shown more restraint in her choice of clothes. She was much less endowed both front and rear, but she had legs that were a mile long and she looked great. Not as great as Laura, of course. Thank God maternity wear doesn't have to be boring anymore. Laura’s dress was a classic gown in many ways, but rather than hiding her bump, it accentuated it in a way that looked very sexy - fertile if you like; at least in my eyes. The party was only a small one - another three friends from 'Sacred Heart' and two from Laura's old school. The locals arrived first - all very nicely attired for a girls-only dinner, but hey - I didn't mind! They were still hanging up over clothes and changing shoes when the intercom buzzed again. "Hi Laura, is this really where you live?" came a hesitant voice. "Sure is," Laura replied. "Cross the lobby and take the elevator to the sixth floor." "Uh huh," came the reply and Laura buzzed them in. They must have met Ramone in the lobby - he operated the lift for them and knocked on the door a few minutes later. "Happy birthday Miss Laura, he said. These two young ladies said they are here for your party." "They sure are Ramone. Thanks for taking them up - and thanks heaps for the earrings. I love them!" she said and kissed Ramone after showing him she was wearing them. "I'm so glad Miss Laura," he said. "I'll tell Debbie when she comes home tomorrow. Have a pleasant evening!" and he turned to leave as Laura returned to the hall with the two last arrivals who looked completely intimidated. "Joan! Jennie!" Laura said, trying to hug them both at the same time. "It so good to see you." The first to recover was Joan - a pretty freckled red-head. "Ohmygod Laura, you are huge!" "What did you expect?" Laura grinned. "I'm nearly six months pregnant with twins." "Yeah, I guess," she said. "Only I haven't seen you since just after New Year. I didn't even know you were pregnant then, except that your um..." she trailed off suddenly blushing. Enlightenment struck me. 'Except that Laura's breasts were suddenly much larger' was what she meant. This was the Joan whose dad had shown an unwelcome interest. Before Laura could make the connection and reply, Jennie spoke. "I noticed your name was on that sign down in the lobby." She was a mousy-grey girl - someone you would hardly ever notice. But according to Laura she was exceedingly intelligent - the only girl in Laura's year that could match her - and she was obviously very observant. "Well, I live here, don't I?" Laura replied with a grin. "Anyway, that sign thing - that was Ramone's doing." "The doorman who took us up here? The one that had given you the earrings and whom you kissed?" - No Jennie missed very little. "The one," Laura smiled. "He's a real honey. He helps George looking after me - he won't let me carry anything and so on." "It makes it look very official, very - permanent?" Jennie said. "The sign, I mean." "It is," Laura said. "I have no intention of leaving. Ever." There were seven excited teenaged girls in the small hall in addition to Laura and me, but all of a sudden you could have heard a pin drop. "Oh. But. I mean. What does - George..." - the question was obviously burning on Jennie's tongue. Her eyes darted at me. I smiled at her. "I don't want Laura to leave. Ever." Someone let out a long sigh. Someone else muttered 'Oh wow.' "Girls," Laura said with a huge smile. "This is George. Meeting him is the best thing that ever happened to me." The noise level rose again. There was a general round of introductions - the other three 'Sacred Heart' girls were Melanie, Heidi and Cathy. Keeping track of all those names was going to be difficult for me! We entered the central living room and sat down for snack and drinks. Non-alcoholic 'in solidarity with the birthday girl', as I put it. In that way I didn't have to worry about outraged parents. Laura got presents - mainly jewelry and accessories; six month pregnant women will frequently get babyish things for their birthdays, but that wasn't really on the agenda for a bunch of seventeen year olds. I cleared my voice. "Well, this is really a girl's night." They all looked at me "I'm just the little man what comes with the 'ouse," I said in a fair imitation of cockney English to much laughter. "What I mean to say is I'll be eating dinner with you but stay out of your way later. At Laura's request I've cooked a lot of Lebanese food - I hope you like it. Laura can explain why that is special to us." As I walked through the dining room towards the kitchen to get the last things ready, I heard Laura's voice "When I first met George at the shopping center I was absolutely starving, like I hadn't had a proper meal for days. He fed me Lebanese food from the Food Court and I told him everything." "That's soo romantic," someone said. I closed the door to the living room behind me. *** The dinner was fun. The food proved popular and the talking flowed freely enough - despite my presence and the fact that the two groups of friends didn't know each other, only Laura. At the end of the meal I said "OK, is everyone done?" They nodded. "Laura can show you the apartment while I take care of the kitchen." Protests were overruled and Laura took the girls on the Grand Guided Tour. Getting the kitchen in order didn't take all that long - in fact, I had finished that before Laura and her friends were back. What they had talked about in the various rooms - bedrooms in particular - I never found out; Laura was evasive about it. They decided to settle in the den where I served them sweet tea and Baklava. I gave Laura a kiss before retiring to the office. As I was closing the door Joan was saying, "Laura, has he got a brother?" to general laughter. I do. He is ten years older than me! The evening flew. Around 11 Joan's father came to pick up Joan and Jennie. It was unexpected; the original plan was that Jennie's mother would do the driving and Laura was visible uncomfortable about him. He was leering at her and tried a sly wink at me. I put a protective hand on Laura's shoulder and looked as stern as I could manage. When Jennie and Joan had hugged Laura he moved in like he was going to do so too. Laura embraced me instead and his attempt was thwarted. Amazing that someone as sweet and open natured as Joan could have such an asshole for a father. Shortly after, Mary's brother came to escort the gaggle of local girls home. He's a college sophomore and had been deemed trustworthy. It was obvious all the girls found him cute - they flirted openly with him. He was taking the banter good-naturedly; I was observing the interaction while the girls were getting their coats and outdoor shoes and saying goodbye to Laura and me. I saw his face when he spotted Anna Beth - and especially Anna Beth's dress. He looked gob-smacked - he certainly got the message! "Oh, Anna Beth," I said at neutrally as I could. "Weren't you going to change before you went home?" Anna Beth looked mortified. "I completely forgot. Have I got time to do it?" she asked. "We really gotta go, or I'll be grounded," Heidi protested. "But God, you can't let your mom see that thing!" Mary exclaimed. "I'll be fine in my jacket; it's not cold. Why don't you just borrow my sweat shirt?" her brother offered. "Then it will look like you're wearing a skirt and sweat shirt." "Yes, that would be very respectable. Very 1950'ish," I said. "Oh John, you are a sweetie," Anna Beth said and stood so close to him while the college sweat shirt was transferred that he got a good look down her considerable cleavage. A very good look, I would say - there was a sizeable lump in his jeans after that. He tried to position himself so it wouldn't be noticed. But when they got into the elevator I could see that Anna Beth was practically rubbing her ass against it. *** Laura had noticed too. The girls had cleared up after desert, so we could head straight to bed. Laura's dress was not only pretty but also very easy to remove, so within moments I had a naked sexy girl rubbing herself against me. The predictable - and desired - result had Laura cooing. "Yummy yum. I've been wanting that all evening - and ever since I saw John's boner I've been dripping!" She was too! She got onto the bed on hands and knees, obviously wanting a repeat of the 'doggy' session in the afternoon, but I had other plans. "Let's try the 'spoon' position," I said. That's fun too - and can be used right up until the day you give birth. "How does that work?" she asked - eager to try every possibility. "Well, we just lie 'in spoons' on the bed," I started. "You lift up your leg and I, you know..." "...you find somewhere comfortable to put that thing that would otherwise be poking my ass," she finished the sentence for me with a saucy laugh "Precisely," I laughed back and we got on the bed. Do you believe in 'G-spots'? I have never met a medical professional who did, but I have certainly met women who reacted very strongly to being stimulated just where the G-spot is purported to be. Well, the 'spoon' position is perfectly suited for stimulating the front of the vagina wall and Laura was coming with a wail like a banshee less than two minutes after I entered her. I was nowhere near coming myself, so I carried on for a long time - reducing Laura to limp rag doll before I finally came in her. I had expected her - and myself - to drift off quickly, but that didn't happen. Laura wanted to talk. "I was really upset to see Joan's father," she said "I noticed that," I replied - and deciding to dig a little deeper, I added lightly "Actually he only wanted to do what I just did..." The reaction was explosive. She rolled around facing me. "Exactly!" she said. "That was the only thing he wanted to do. He did not want to protect me, house me, feed me, clothe me, care for me, cheer me up when I was down and help me get my life back. Nor would he ever even consider helping me raise two babies that weren't his. He only wanted to fuck me. Well fuck him!" The harshness of the last few words did nothing to detract from the incredibly tender declaration of love preceding them. Lost for words, humbled and more than a little ashamed, I pulled her close, stroking her hair and her back. "Oh George," she whispered into the hollow of my neck. "I really meant it when I said to the girls that meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me." *** Sunday morning we woke up back in 'spoon' position. I had serious morning wood and Laura, ever the fast learner, lifted her leg and guided me in. Nothing compares to the comfort and joy of a slow morning fuck. We took our time, but when I started playing with her nipples she came and took me with her. "I could get addicted to this," she said with a pearly laugh. "Well, suits me fine!" I said. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but being pregnant actually helps making it so good," I added as an afterthought. "Huh?" she said and I explained the physiology. "But why shouldn't you tell me?" she asked as she once more turned to face me. Good question - poor answer. "Well, you know," I said - almost defensively - "I shouldn't dispel the idea that it is me making it so good..." I trailed off. What was happening here? Was I suddenly insecure at fifty??? "You still don't get it, do you George?" Laura said softly, but with a maturity that exceeded mine. "I would never do it with someone I didn't love. I never have and I can't imagine I ever will." "Sorry, I don't know what came over me," I said. "Or maybe I do. Like, you know, the little scene last night with Mary's brother. I mean, I knew it all the time of course. It's just that I hadn't given any thought to the fact that the world is full of good looking boys your age and slightly older. To be honest, I'm frightened that you will leave me." There it was. I had said it. The love and understanding in Laura's eyes was too much for me - the vision became blurred from my own tears. "George," she said quietly. "That will not happen - I will never leave you. It will be you leaving me, but only because you are thirty three years older. I pray to God I can keep you for many many years." "Oh Laura," I started, but abandoned words for body language. We remained in a tight embrace for a long time. No more words were spoken on that subject; none were needed. *** "As to John," Laura said a little while later in a light tone of voice, mischief alight in her eyes, "I'm not in the running. Anna Beth can have him!" "You know, I think she will," I replied in the same tone - my brief gloom completely gone. "Her technique was pretty good. If it hadn't been for the fact there were four other people in the elevator - including his sister - I doubt she would have reached the lobby a virgin." Laura laughed at the idea. "Yes, she played it well. It's funny how she suddenly 'forgot' about changing when she heard that it would be John, not her dad, walking them home." I chuckled. "Oh, so that's how it came about. She couldn't have banked on borrowing John's sweat shirt though, so she was obviously ready to incur the wrath of her parents in exchange for flashing her boobs at him." Laura laughed even louder. "That's a crude but accurate description. The poor guy got a massive boner, and did you see her virtually rubbing her ass against it in the elevator, the hussy!" Laura said - but with no anger in her playful voice. "Yes, that's what I meant - had they been alone, said boner would have found its intended target," I said - and then suddenly turned serious. "Does she know how to look after herself?" "Meaning?" Laura inquired. "Well," I said. "I can't really see Mrs. Cameron putting Anna Beth on the pill, and if presented with a warm, wet and willing pussy, John will shove his dick in it – and damn the consequences. It is one of nature's cruel tricks that the more likely conception is, the warmer and wetter the pussy will be." "All this is new to me," Laura joked. "I mean, I only started having sex after I got pregnant!" Then in a more serious tone she added "Anyway, what can we do?" "Not much," I admitted. "Listen, Mrs. Cameron's initial concern was that you would be a bad influence on Anna Beth. You're not, of course. You're anything but. That said, it wouldn't hurt if you let Anna Beth know about the down-sides of being pregnant at seventeen. I'm not suggesting you talk gloom and doom, just try to avoid making it appear too glamorous." "And tell her about condoms?" Laura added. "Yes, that too," I said. "I guess that's not a very prominent part of the 'Sacred Heart' health curriculum." "No, that would be one of their few faults," Laura agreed. Chapter 13 Bladders, hunger - and the tiny little detail that Joyce, Lisa and the kids were coming for lunch - finally drove us out of bed. Reluctantly we agreed on separate showers and we actually managed to be more or less ready when the invasion came. The kids made much of Laura. They brought little individual presents and had all made drawings for her. "Lisa says there are two babies in your tummy," Eleanor - the second oldest of the kids said, laying her small hands on Laura’s abdomen, "When are they coming out?" "In summer - in a bit over three months," Laura replied. "Or maybe before. When there are two babies they sometimes come a little earlier." "Can we come and see them when they're out?" Nick - her older 'brother' - asked. "Will they be staying with Uncle George too?" "Oh yes you can," Laura said, "and yes they will. The babies and I will be staying with George." "That's neat. Can we play with them?" Eleanor asked. "Certainly," Laura replied. "Only, when they are very small they can't play. But later on they will." "I remember that with Thomas and Rebecca," Nick said seriously - referring to his youngest 'siblings'. "When they were new they could only sleep and cry." "And have milk from their mommy," Eleanor added. Laura smiled. We sat down for lunch. Before long the kids had had their fill and lost interest. They were allowed to run and play; they are frequent visitors in my apartment so I keep a collection of toys that gets updated on a regular basis to reflect their development. Lisa jokes that I am far too organized and scientific in my approach, but the kids love playing here. When they had noisily departed for the 'play room' next to Laura's bathroom, Joyce asked "So, did you have a good birthday Laura?" "Oh yes," Laura said. "A very good birthday." The innuendo was clear and understood. "That's great," Lisa said. "How was it seeing your friends from your old school?" "Really good," Laura replied. "They got along well with my new friends. The only awkward moment was that Joan's dad came to pick them up, not Jennie's mother." "Why was that bad?" Lisa asked. We suddenly realized that Lisa and Joyce had never heard about Laura's brief and unsuccessful 'career' as a prostitute and that Joan's dad had been the indirect instigator of that very poor idea. Laura's eyes darted over to meet mine. I nodded imperceptibly and she launched into the story. "OK," Joyce said at the end. "I can understand why seeing Joan's dad was unpleasant. But listen, don't worry. He can't hurt you - he's an asshole but a harmless one." We carried on eating and chatted about this and that. When we finished and were taking things back out in the kitchen, Lisa noticed Laura's bangle. "That's a very nice piece," she said pointing to it. "Yes it is," agreed Joyce. "I saw it too. Is it a gift from George?" "No, it's actually better than that!" I said. "What's that supposed to mean you old mystery monger," Joyce asked with a laugh. So we told them about the letter from Laura's mother. Lisa whistled softly. "That is great news Laura," she said. "Real progress. I think there is still hope." Joyce partly agreed. "The bit about persuading your father doesn't sound all that promising, but writing you and telling you about it is certainly a major step. And giving you the bangle is hugely significant. By asking you - in keeping the family tradition - to pass it on to your daughter when she is pregnant one day, your mother is essentially acknowledging your babies. The adoption agenda is definitively off the table now." We hadn't even thought about it in those terms, but Joyce's analysis made sense. Laura looked immensely happy. "Anyway," Lisa said. "If George didn't give you that bangle, what did he give you?" Well, part of that was very private of course, but we told her about the trip to Florida - including the 'OK' from Noelle. Joyce knew already - as she had both talked to Noelle and done the bookings, but Lisa didn't. "Oh, I envy you," she said. "That will be so good!" We could only agree. They stayed for a couple of more hours before embarking on the trip home in time for Laura and me to attend Vespers. We stopped and talked briefly with Mother Marianna on the way out. "Happy birthday for yesterday my child," she said to Laura and pressed a beautiful small crucifix in her hand. "May God keep and protect you in the coming year." "Thanks Mother," Laura replied. "I hope he will. I know you will too!" she added and embraced her. *** The spring break in Florida was - mostly - very nice. The weather (and I mean, that's why you go to Florida!) was beautiful - warm and sunny but not too hot. And since Laura is one of those fortunate people who tan easily and evenly, she got herself a very appealing hue - except on those tiny areas covered by her miniscule bikini that left so little to the imagination that I was in a more or less constant state of arousal. Theme parks and rides are off the agenda once you're past the six-month mark with twins, so we just relaxed and did a little sightseeing and shopping. But it wasn't all 'rosy in the garden' - we started to feel the brunt of public opinion on a relationship such as ours. Most people assumed that I was Laura's father and the babies thus my grandchildren. They reacted positively to me looking after 'my unfortunate daughter'. Those who assumed otherwise or were told that Laura was not my daughter were generally hostile. When I, for the fifth time on the same day, had said "I'm neither Laura's father nor the father of her babies," it started to get to me. We also had to be especially careful and restrained as Florida's age of consent is eighteen; a detail I hadn't thought about when I planned the trip. In one respect it didn't help either that Laura never 'dresses up'. I am sure that with the right clothes and makeup, she could make herself look like she was in her early twenties. Then most people would assume that I was just a pathetic old man with a new younger model - the women would hate me and the men would envy me, but they would leave us alone. But Laura didn't. Not since the lipstick on the day we met has she ever done anything to look different to what she is. She actually asked me if she should try, but I refused. "We can't live a lie," I said. "I love you for who you are and if people can't deal with that then it is their problem." But as I said, it did dampen the enjoyment a bit. So when Jess called me to say that she and Jonathan had found 'the house' and could I please come and have a look, I got Joyce to rebook us to go home a few days early via Vermont. It was indeed 'the house' - perfectly located and very very nice. We got Abe to look at the paperwork and Friday at midday the deal was struck. We then had a great weekend in the most liberal state in the Union before flying home - relaxed and refreshed. *** Joyce took Laura to another checkup at Noelle's. She was asked how the journey had been and how she was feeling in general. Everything looked fine and a second ultra-sound scan more or less confirmed that there was indeed 'one of each'. The appointment had been straight after school, so Joyce brought Laura back with her to work. I got the details right away before Laura went to her cubicle and started working. Joyce hung back in my office with the 'we need to talk' look I know so well. "George," she said. "We can't stall much longer. We need some sort of agreement with Laura's parents before she goes into labor!" "There is still time," I said defensively. "Her due date is not for another 11 or 12 weeks." "Bull!" Joyce exploded. "That is provided she goes full term - and practically no twin pregnancies do. If she went into labor now there is a fair chance of survival for the babies - but a lot of decisions to make. And there is no one to make them!" I had to agree and promised I would talk to Laura about it. But nothing happened that week. Going back to school after the holidays was difficult for Laura. She was feeling big and bloated and out of sorts and I had to spend most of the time cheering her up. She'd had a minor dust-up with Anna Beth who had taken her suggestion about being careful around John very badly. All in all it was a bad week. It wasn't until Sunday that anything happened - and the event was both unexpected and very dramatic. We were just home from Vespers when my cell-phone rang. To my astonishment it was Laura's mother. "Mr. Smith," she said. "You said I could have access to my daughter whenever I wanted to. Well, I need to talk to her." "Why certainly," I replied. "She’s in her room studying, but I'll get her for you right away." "You misunderstand me," she countered. "What I need to tell her can't be said over the telephone." That sounded ominous. "You are welcome anytime," I said. "When would you like to come?" "How about now?" she replied. "I am standing right outside your building." I gulped inwardly, but managed to say "Excellent - come right up. Press the sixth floor button and I'll buzz you in." I literally RAN down to Laura's room and almost yelled. "Come quick - your mother is here!" before running back to the hall to operate the intercom. A few moments later I heard the elevator and there was knock on the front door. I opened. That the woman outside was Laura's mother was obvious - the resemblance was clear, but I was nevertheless shocked. For starters I had never asked Laura how old her parents were - and it was now obvious that Mrs. Jones must have close to forty when she had Laura. But she also looked haggard and drawn, way beyond her fifty six or fifty seven years - it was like she was at her wits' end. "Mrs. Jones - Nora," I said. "I'm George. Please do come in." Laura who had hung back behind me said with a hesitant voice. "Mom! What happened?" "Laura, I, I," Mrs. Jones said. And then her face crumbled and she broke down. Laura embraced her and I guided them gently through the hall into the living room and got them to sit down in the sofa. "I have come to beg your forgiveness," Mrs. Jones finally managed. "I feel so guilty. If I had believed you, it wouldn't have happened..." and she broke down again. "Happened? What happened?" Laura said. "He did it again," Mrs. Jones whispered. "Did what? Who?" Laura asked - now looking alarmed. "Michael," Mrs. Jones managed. "He raped again." The shock on Laura's face was profound "Who did he rape this time?" she asked. "Hannah!" Mrs. Jones whispered. "He tried to strangle her too." I saw Laura, who still had her arm around her mother, go completely ashen. "Oh God no. Oh please God no!" "Mrs. Jones. Nora!" I said. She looked up. "Is she OK?" "She will live," Mrs. Jones replied. "The police caught him red handed and they got there just in time. She was unconscious and has spot bleeding on the retinas and her larynx is damaged, but she will live." Laura was in shock and her mother in a bad state. By degrees I managed to get the story out. Michael was still running the Church youth club and on Thursday night he had offered to drive Hannah home. He had driven them to a secluded spot and raped her. Unlike Laura who knew the futility of fighting a much stronger person, Hannah had resisted and Michael had tried to strangle her. By pure chance, a police car had been passing by, found the scene suspicious and intervened in the last possible moment. Deciding that there was no time to waste, one officer had rushed Hannah to hospital while the other subdued Michael. He was now arrested - charged with first degree aggravated rape and attempted murder. Given that Hannah was only thirteen, it was unlikely he would ever enjoy freedom again. And prisoners tend to take a dim view of child rapists - he was in for a living hell. "I feel so guilty," Mrs. Jones said again. "Had I believed you we could have stopped him." The tears started again. "I feel guilty too," Laura said. "I never told Hannah that Michael had raped me. I thought she was too young for that kind of information. I never thought I would expose her to danger." *** All this was bad enough, but I sensed there was more. "What happened next?" I asked. Mrs. Jones looked at me hopelessly, but something in her eyes hinted recognition of me as an ally, not an enemy. "Today there was a major dust-up in Church," she said. "The Pastor - oh the bastard! – he preached a fiery sermon on the 'Whore of Babylon' laying the blame on Michael's predicament squarely on 'the painted women'." "No!" Laura almost yelled. "He didn't?" "Oh yes, and your father sided with him!" Mrs. Jones said, fury entering her voice. "Well, Hannah’s father got up and yelled at the Pastor that if he was referring to his innocent thirteen year old daughter now fighting for her life in hospital after being raped and strangled by the Pastor's bastard nephew then he was the biggest swine in Christendom." "Good for him!" I said. She nodded. "It actually came to blows. When one of the ushers tried to remove Anthony - that is Hannah's father - he laid him flat. Anthony is not a former quarterback for nothing." The service had disintegrated and Nora and James Jones had gone home - with a frosty atmosphere in the car. "Your father was on the PC in the den for a long time," Mrs. Jones told Laura. "I rarely ever use the computer – I have an account on it, but I forget the password. But I wanted to check news sites to see if they had picked up on Hannah's story. So when he went to the bathroom, I sat down at the screen. That's when I discovered it..." She trailed off. "Discovered what?" Laura asked. I tried to avoid her eyes; I had a fair idea of what was coming. "Discovered that the PC was full of the most disgusting filth. Pictures and videos of the worst kind. And stories about young girls being raped and impregnated," Mrs. Jones said with a voice so clinically neutral that it was obvious she was fighting for control. "No!" Laura yelled again. "That can't be true. Please tell me it isn't true." "It is," I said quietly. They both looked at me. "How do you know?" Laura asked. "Jock," I simply replied. Comprehension dawned on Laura's face and she quickly filled in her mother on the details. "Jock is one of your daughter's many champions," I added. "None of the information he obtained would stand up in court, but that is beside the point. You may find the material repugnant - as I'm sure many people would - but there was absolutely nothing illegal on that PC three months ago. Jock checked very carefully but your ISP - your Internet provider - runs an effective filter, so even though your husband has tried to find illegal materiel, he never got it." "That makes no difference to me," Mrs. Jones said. "When he came back to the den, he was shocked to see me there and tried to divert my attention, but I told him what I'd found - and told him our marriage was over." Laura gasped. Turning to her, Mrs. Jones continued. "I packed a few things and rang my cousin - Auntie Nell. I'll move in with her tonight and file for divorce tomorrow." Turning back to me, she said. "Mr. Smith - may I call you George?" I nodded. "George, nearly three months ago you sent me some documents for me and Laura's father to sign. That never happened - James would not allow it. Rest assured that now they will be signed." I smiled weakly. "Nora, you have been very open and candid. We owe you the same. The documents would have to be worded quite differently today." "Mom," Laura added - taking my cue, "George and I have fallen in love with each other. We've been lovers since my birthday." A small smile played on Nora's lips - the first I had seen. "I guessed as much. From what Hannah was telling me, I thought it might happen." "You're OK with that?" Laura asked - almost incredulously. "I'm very happy for you both. I intend to settle in town so I can be close to you and my grandchild," she said. "Grandchildren," I corrected. "There are two." "Oh, I thought that belly looked big," she said to Laura and launched into a long joyful chat about pregnancy and babies. I left them to it and made dinner. Just before she finally took her leave several hours later, I asked her if she had a lawyer. "Not really," she said. "The only one I know is the one James uses for the company." I gave her Abe's number. He does not do family law, but he would know someone who could help Nora fleece James completely. When she had left I called Abe, filled him in on the situation and asked him to recommend the best ‘fleecer’ he could find. I would cover all costs. Abe chuckled. "I know just the guy. Mr. Jones will run a very big risk of being arrested for indecent exposure when he leaves court - he will not even have a shirt to his back!" The next evening we met Debbie in the lobby. "You can tell Lorraine that Laura's mother is completely on our side now," I said. "That should allay her worries." Debbie looked slightly shame-faced. "What worries?" she snorted. "When I told her about the two of you, she just laughed and said 'Good for them'. She said she had seen it coming and was delighted. As she put it, 'Why should the social services worry about a girl who is being loved and cared for by a good man? There are plenty of pregnant teenagers with real problems'. But that's Lorraine for you!" We all laughed. Lorraine certainly had a point, but it was unusual for one in her position to express it. Epilogue May and June came and went. Laura finished her school year at the top of her class - and with a very very big belly; the sex - exclusively 'spoons' towards the end - remained fantastic but increasingly difficult. At 39 weeks - an unexpected feat - her water broke and she gave birth to a girl and a boy. Her mother, Joyce and I were there. She named the babies Marianna and George. On the birth certificates the father was listed as "unknown" - Laura didn't want her babies to grow up with a convicted rapist as their father, and she didn't want the bastard to be able to claim visiting rights. The kids were baptized at 'Sacred Heart'. Everyone was there - Elise, Jess and Jonathan had flown in too. Hannah, who had made a full recovery, was God-mother to Marianna. When Fr. Patrick made a gentle little allusion to St. Joseph, Elise claims I was bright red with embarrassment. It was a lovely day. After the summer holidays, Nora helped with the babies so Laura could follow Mother Marianna's plan for semi-home schooling. After Christmas, we hired an au-pair. The first one baulked at the idea of working for a couple where the woman was younger than herself. Or perhaps her parents were uncomfortable when they found out - I don't know, but it didn't work out. The next one was a lovely Swedish girl with no such hang-ups. She and Laura became instant friends. She was a great help and Laura managed to graduate with her peers. So did Anna Beth - if only just. Her water actually broke on the way down from the stage! But John was a gentleman and genuinely in love with Anna Beth, so they were married before it was too obvious that she was pregnant and Mrs. Cameron was calmer about it than we would have expected. And Laura, Marianna, George Jr. as we call him and I are just living as a happy family. My daughters are urging me to marry Laura and adopt the children - and Joyce backs them up, as always. I don't know if it is the right thing to do. Abe's young family lawyer friend (who did fleece James completely, by the way) has drawn up all the necessary paperwork to provide for Laura and the kids, but perhaps all those papers ought to be replaced by just one. Perhaps the proposition will be countered with a proposal. THE END.