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.