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Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 11
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As found in the noodle box...

[NOTE: This is not the final chapter either. But the next one
will be. It might be long, but it will be the last.]

------------------------------------------------------------ 

Chapter Eleven
Transition

    Friday morning was total confusion, as I should have expected, but
by noon I had a new walking cast, and Helen, Jenny, and I were on the
way home. Helen had decided, very practically, that installing me in her
third floor loft didn't make a great deal of sense, so for the time
being at least her bedroom would be my campground. To simplify logistics
while she was away, she made up a palette for me on the living room
floor as well, so that I could rest down there during the day and not
have to navigate the stairs.

    For the next week, Jenny was my designated nurse during the hours
Helen was at work, and I have to admit that she played it very straight.
She took excellent care of me, and aside from the occasional risque
comment was a perfect lady.  On the Monday following my release, I wrote
a short note on the back of one of the contracts Sondra had signed
explaining that I truly appreciated her offer, but I couldn't accept it.
However, because of the good will she had shown in making the offer I
was reducing my claim from five hundred thousand dollars to fifty
thousand dollars. I added that I wished we could have met under happier
circumstances, since the thought of making love to someone worth two
thousand dollars a night was incredibly exciting. I signed it with a
cramped, pinched scribble, and called for a courier. She worked as a
low-level marketeer in a medium-sized firm downtown, and I wanted to
catch her at work.  As soon as the courier returned with a signed
receipt, I called Roger and told him he was cleared in.

    Every afternoon since my little mishap, Jenny had gone to my
apartment to collect mail and newspapers, and she continued the practice
when I became their house guest. On Tuesday, there was a note from
Sondra taped to my door asking me to call, and Jenny collected it along
with the mail. Wednesday Sondra was there herself, sitting on the
stairs. When she saw Jenny, she immediately asked where I was and how
she could get hold of me. Jenny (I love that girl!) told her that Mrs.
Palmer and I had gone to a cabin in the mountains to help my recovery,
but she didn't yet know exactly where. She had no way to reach us, but
she expected to hear from us soon since she was supposed to join us
later. Sondra gave Jenny her number, and asked her to call her as soon
as she heard from us. Jenny warned her that she didn't think she would
be able to do that without getting permission from me first, but that
she would ask if it was okay when she talked to me. Then she just stood
there, obviously waiting for Sondra to leave until she finally did.
Jenny watched until she got in her rental car and drove off. After that,
Jenny always scouted the area before letting herself be seen, but Sondra
made no further appearance.

    I got my first batch of letters from Ashleigh on the Tuesday when
Jenny found Sondra's note. The first had been written Friday, at the
airport, on the plane, and at her new home, and the second was written
Saturday, when both had been mailed. They were on heavy pink stationery,
and written in a bold hand in bright blue ink with an abundance of
smiley faces and hearts for punctuation. They were pure narrative,
though very colorful, telling me in great detail about her trip and her
new neighborhood. Other letters arrived each day for the rest of the
week, and once the initial descriptions were out of the way, they became
more personal, though not intimate; she began describing more of her
feelings for her new surroundings rather than the surroundings
themselves. She had a real talent for writing, and I wondered if she had
ever considered doing serious work. As time passed, I would learn much
more about the variety of her writing moods.

    I stayed at Helen's all that week, and the next one, too, though I
really could have managed at home by myself.  The following week I
returned to work and, aside from awkwardly struggling with my crutches
for another couple of weeks, was back to normal. Somewhat to my
surprise, Helen seemed to be busier during the summer than during the
school year. She was teaching a class in summer school, and had a heavy
schedule of meetings, seminars, conferences and other professional
activities. It seemed to me that she was putting in less time on her own
work than she had before, but she assured me that while she might be
putting in fewer hours she was getting much more accomplished. We still
spent most weekends together, and "Jenny's days" continued on schedule.
In addition, Helen made several out of town trips ranging from overnight
to three days, and while she was gone I stayed at her place with Jenny.
On those occasions, Helen lifted the frequency restrictions on Jenny and
told us we could spend as much time together as we could stand while she
was gone, but the fundamental rule remained in place.

    Ashleigh continued to write at least three letters a week, and I
tried to write back at least every couple of weeks. Some of her letters
were hilarious, and others were thought-provoking, and others made me
want to comfort her. Her letters were as honest as she was, and when she
had problems, she wasn't embarrassed to write about them, nor was she
embarrassed to write about things that excited her, or made her happy.
To some extent, her letters let me write more honestly to her as well,
and I found myself writing things I am sure I wouldn't have admitted to
her earlier. I don't mean to imply that we were exchanging intimacies;
at least it didn't feel like it. We were just being honest about things
that we felt; she never mentioned any feelings she might have had for
me, nor did I mention the subject at all. She would tease me now and
then about Helen and Jenny, but always in a good-natured way. I know
that she was writing to Jenny at least every week or so, and that she
wrote several letters to Helen as well, and she would sometimes mention
to me something that she had told them. I don't know whether either of
them knew how much Ashleigh was writing to me, but I didn't try to hide
it, and once Jenny commented on the size of the stack of Ash's letters
on my desk. Besides her letters, I know she spoke to Jenny on the phone
every week or so, and of course exchanged a word with Helen now and then
as well.

    Throughout the summer Jenny continued to drop by my place once a
week or so, but more just to visit than to do anything interesting. We
were becoming more comfortable with each other, and the times we were
able to spend a couple of days or so alone together made our time less
frantic. The second time Helen left us on our own was over a weekend,
and Jenny decided that we would spend the entire time isolated in the
house sans apparel. So we did. We cooked, cleaned, played games, and
generally had a perfectly normal weekend except that neither of us ever
wore a stitch. Sunday afternoon, just before Helen returned, Jenny told
me that her objective had been met: she wanted to see me completely
"relaxed" under trying circumstances.

    Before I realized it, summer was over and school was about to begin.
Jenny seemed to me to be somewhat down, though she put on a bright
front.  Ashleigh wrote that she was nervous about starting a new school,
but she had at least had all summer to prepare for it and to meet a few
people. I had expected Ashleigh's letters to become less frequent once
school started, but they didn't. If anything, they became longer as she
told me in great detail about her classes, her new friends, and her
days.

    One day Jenny dropped by after school, and said that she couldn't
stay long, but suggested that I check the view from my bedroom around
six or so. I knew that she had something in mind, of course, and wasn't
terribly surprised when I strolled to the back and looked in through
Jenny's window.  She had a guest, and a particularly lovely one with
long brown hair. Jenny conned her into trying on blouses, and then
finally convinced her to try on a bra as well. I had to admit that it
was an interesting entertainment, but I found it difficult to generate
much excitement over it. The next day Jenny came back by and asked what
I thought of Cheryl. I told her that her friend was certainly pretty,
and that I appreciated her generosity in putting her on display for me.
She asked if I would like to see more of her. I told her that I
certainly wouldn't mind, but I think she could see that I wasn't
terribly interested, so she dropped it. A few days later, though we went
through a similar routine with a different girl, with essentially the
same result. And Jenny settled into a routine with this. Only once did
she seem a little irritated and complain that I was getting pretty
picky.

    I suppose there was some truth in that. Even though the girls were
all very attractive, none of them really grabbed me, and perhaps part of
that could be attributed to my somewhat active life style over the past
year or so. But to tell the truth I was a little distracted as well.
There was something about Ashleigh's letters as the year wore on that
bothered me.  She didn't really complain, but I got the feeling that she
wasn't very happy in her new surroundings. Nobody can expect to be happy
all the time, and if that had been the extent of it I wouldn't have been
concerned, but I thought that I noticed a general deterioration in her
writing ability and even worse, in her thought patterns. For some reason
I had saved all of her letters, and I dug up some of her earlier ones
for comparison. Where her hand before had been bold, it was now somewhat
cramped. Her earlier broad sweeping curves had become more angular. And
the content had changed as well. Much of the earlier imagery was gone;
her sentences had become more regular in length and form, less complex.

    Realizing it might be a delicate subject, I raised it with Helen and
asked her if she had noticed anything different about Ashleigh recently.
She looked at me strangely for a second, then replied, "Yes, I have. And
I don't think it's good. What have you seen?" I described for her as
well as I could what I saw as the changes, and she just nodded
thoughtfully and said that agreed with what she had been thinking. We
were in bed at the time, and she then put her arms around me and held me
close. "I'll see if I can find out something," she said softly into my
chest. We never mentioned it again.

    Perhaps I simply hadn't noticed them the year before, but Helen's
out-of-town conferences continued through the fall at about once a
month, and I continued to stay with Jenny while Helen was gone. Once in
early November, Jenny asked if one of her friends could stay with us,
and mentioned the girl whom I had given my most glowing reviews a couple
of weeks earlier. When I vetoed it, she asked if I wanted her to call
Sondra Bethel, and I had to chase her down and spank her. Then she
insisted that I kiss it and make it well, and being a gentleman of
course I couldn't refuse. It proved to be a very stubborn injury, but
eventually responded quite nicely to treatment.

    As Christmas approached, I began to get nervous, remembering the
previous year. But Helen didn't spring any new surprises. She did tell
me, though, that Jenny had asked for the rest of the package this year,
and had been turned down flat. It was Helen's considered opinion that
Jenny had been at least half-kidding anyway. With that out of the way, I
began to relax a bit. I didn't count on my present.

    Actually, I'm not sure whose present it was, but it certainly felt
like mine. We went to bed on Christmas Eve more or less normally. Helen
had convinced me to forget my pajamas, and kissed me good night before
we went to sleep, but nothing more athletic. But the next morning I woke
up between Helen and Jenny, both in the most diaphanous gowns
imaginable, and both languidly kissing my arms. They had their act
choreographed like synchronized swimmers, moving in perfect unison as
they covered me with kisses, Jenny on my right, Helen on my left. I
tried to keep my reserve just to prove a point, but it was impossible
once they started kissing my nipples while they stroked my thighs. I had
one arm around each, and mother and daughter seemed equally firm and
delightful. As they went on, I began to wonder what they would do for a
finale. My writhing might have prolonged it, and if so, I was grateful,
but it was far from intentional. I felt soft hair slide along my belly,
lead and trail around soft lips. Soft hands cupped my balls. The lips
brushed those self-same balls, then gently sucked them in as the fingers
which had been holding them crept lightly down my thighs. I could feel
my hips begin to thrust up from the bed, and I thought I heard an almost
silent giggle from my right. When I felt the two tongues flick lightly
upward along my shaft I knew that I was doomed. I began to buck
uncontrollably, and felt the weight of arms pressing down against my
hips. The tongues played games, circling round and round, up and down.
Then the synchronized routines stopped, and I thought I would survive.
Then I felt a pair of lips slide down over my shaft and I knew I would
not. I couldn't see, because I couldn't force my neck down, and I'm not
even sure that my eyes were open, but I knew it was Jenny's lips that
held me. It was her tongue that now rolled me around her mouth, and her
cheeks that sucked me. Her head moved up and down, her lips held me
tightly. I knew I would explode. My hips bucked against the weight
holding them down. I heard myself scream, but I didn't know it was me.
The flow began, and I couldn't stop it. I spurted what seemed a
continuous stream that lasted forever. And the mouth sucked, and sucked,
and sucked me dry. I thought. A final spasm swept over my body and I lay
limp and panting. After a few seconds, perhaps a minute, I felt bodies
shifting and opened my eyes to see Jenny sliding around to kneel on the
floor beside my head. She folded her arms on the bed and rested her chin
on them, gazing at me with what seemed like amusement.

    I was trying to understand Jenny's expression when I felt gentle
caresses. Helen was starting her solo. While Jenny watched with intense
concentration, her mother slowly but steadily brought me back to full
arousal. Despite my exhaustion and the distraction, Helen had my nerves
screaming within minutes, my body quivering like a taut string. When her
tongue started dancing around my cock I could feel my balls tightening
again, and then she took me in her mouth. Her hands played my body,
improvising and creating strange and wonderful new harmonies and
building to a thunderous climax. I exploded into her mouth with an
intensity that shocked me and left me helpless, sightless, suspended.
Helen's gentle hands stroked me, calmed me, and her lips nuzzled me
until my breathing approached normal, then she took me in her arms and
cuddled me, whispering soothing words into my ear. After a few moments,
she lifted herself over me and stepped from the bed to stand beside
Jenny. My eyes followed her, and I saw that Jenny's expression had
changed from amusement to amazement and wonder. Helen bent over and
brushed my hair back from my forehead, then brushed my lips with hers.
Jenny extended her hand and tentatively patted my arm, then mother and
daughter stood and arm in arm walked away. I slept.

    It was probably over two hours before I woke up again, and the rest
of the day seemed like a normal Christmas--whatever that might be. No
one mentioned the morning ceremonies. That night, as Helen and I lay in
bed, she turned to me and asked what I had thought of my morning. The
only word I was able to produce was, "Incredible."

    She chuckled and explained, "I thought it was time to teach Jenny a
little humility and respect for her elders. I'm afraid I have to tell
you, though, that I may have created a problem for you, but I think it's
one you can live with for the next few months. Jenny is going to be
pretty anxious to sharpen her skills, so I think your sessions with her
may become a little more taxing."

    I wasn't sure exactly what she meant, but I wasn't sure what
question to ask, either, so I just watched her and waited for her to
continue. "Until this morning, she was convinced that she could drain
you completely--to the point of complete exhaustion--and leave you
incapable of further activity. I told her that she didn't even
understand the concept, and this morning was the proof and the end of
the discussion.  But now of course she wants to reach the point she
thought she already had." She stopped again, thinking. Then she went on,
"I'm afraid I may have added a little incentive." Another pause. "You
know that Jenny will be turning sixteen next summer." Pause. "I may just
have suggested that if she got good enough that I couldn't get you off
again fifteen minutes after she finishes, I would get her a new car for
her birthday." She began to laugh out loud, then she threw her arms
around me and hugged me. "Sorry if that causes you a problem!" I lay
stunned, thinking of what lay ahead and wondering if I would live
through it. Then Helen added, "And just in case you might be in doubt, I
have a few tricks of my own, and I don't intend to buy that car. Now go
to sleep. You're going to need your rest." She fell silent, but I could
feel her body heave with muffled laughter.

    For the next few days, both Helen and Jenny seemed to be in
exceptionally good moods, and we had a lot of innocent fun. But before
New Year's, Helen seemed to change. The change was subtle, but
unmistakable; she seemed distracted, concerned. Jenny and I talked about
it when we were alone, but neither of us could really pin it down or put
a reason to it. And Jenny didn't let it distract her when her next
session arrived, nor did she give me time to think about it, either. She
had become a woman with a purpose. The next few months were going to be
interesting, if I survived them.

    In mid-January, just before Jenny was to go on semester break, Helen
had to make a trip out of town for a week, and as usual I had to stay
with Jenny while she was gone. Jenny might have been on break, but I had
to work and didn't feel like using up vacation hours, so she wound up at
home by herself during the day. During the evenings, though, she became
quite domestic. Over the past months I had been finding myself at
Helen's more and more, and we had all settled in to a comfortable,
though somewhat flexible, routine. When Jenny and I were alone, she
always took advantage of the opportunity to practice and to milk me for
suggestions and coaching, but there was still a relaxed and casual air;
much more so really than during her "sessions". Helen called every
night, of course, but always early in the evening; I suspect she was
taking pains not to interfere with our activities. She had been
scheduled all along to return on Saturday afternoon, and when she called
on Friday night she confirmed that.  It was somewhat unusual, though,
when she called on Saturday afternoon to tell us that she was on her way
in from the airport. I guessed that she was giving us notice to clean up
our act before she arrived, even though it had never seemed to make any
difference before, not even the time when she opened the door and found
us both bare naked ready to greet her.

    We were fully clothed this time, though, when we heard her car pull
into the driveway. Then the door opened and Ashleigh walked in. Jenny
screamed, ran to her, and wrapped her in a bear hug. Helen strolled
through the door, trying unsuccessfully to keep a broad smile from her
face. After the girls wrapped up their ritual dance at the door,
Ashleigh came over to me and hugged me, saying "Remember me, Larry? I
told you we'd get together again." I was finding it hard to pry my arms
from around her, though to be honest I wasn't really trying all that
hard.

    "It's really good to see you again, Ashleigh." That didn't truly
seem adequate to express my feelings, but then nothing else would
either. "You're looking great." Which was an understatement of great
magnitude. "How long will you be here?" Which was asked with somewhat
more than casual interest, but I hoped it wasn't apparent. We untangled
our arms, but now stood there holding hands and looking into each
other's eyes.

    "I'm staying here, Larry. At least through the school year and
probably the summer as well. I'm going to be spending a weekend in
Seattle occassionally instead of the other way round." Her grin lit the
room. It would probably have lit Yankee Stadium had the need arisen. I
stood there dumfounded. I didn't know what to do. I looked up at Helen,
who was no longer trying to conceal her smile.

    While offering no explanation, Helen did offer that Ashleigh would
be moving into the guest room across from Jenny's room, and that the
room would henceforth be known as "Ashleigh's Room". "She can have her
own room-warming party as soon as the rest of her things arrive, which
should be in a week or so. Larry, why don't you give me a hand with the
bags while these two go start setting things up." She walked out the
door without waiting for an answer. I reluctantly released Ashleigh's
hands and followed Helen. Jenny and Ashleigh ran up the stairs.

    "What's going on?" I asked Helen as soon as we were at the car.

    "Spend the night with me, and I'll tell all. Come on, load that
barge, tote that bale! Let's go!" She thrust a couple of suitcases at
me, and drapped the strap of a smaller bag around my neck. As I trotted
off, she called out that these bags were Ashleigh's, so I took them up
to her new room, then returned to the car to see if there were any
leftovers. Helen had already locked it, so I took that to mean that all
of the cargo had been offloaded and wandered back into the house. There
didn't seem to be anyone downstairs, so I headed up the stairs. At the
top I heard the girls chattering and laughing in Ashleigh's room, but
couldn't make out anything, and I turned the other way to head for
Helen's loft. Just as I did, she appeared from the bedroom door.

    She walked up to me and immediately announced, "I have decided that
we're going out. We have to celebrate, and I feel like Italian. Any
objections?" She didn't look as though she was in the mood to brook any,
and I had none anyway, so I concurred. We marched together to Ashleigh's
open door and Helen repeated her decision. Jenny agreed
enthusiastically, and Ashleigh said that she also thought it was an
excellent idea. She gave me a wink as she did so, which caught me
totally by surprise and I'm pretty sure made me blush. If it did,
neither Jenny nor Ashleigh gave any indication that they had noticed it.

    With general agreement on Italian, Helen and Ashleigh asked for and
received an hour or so to scrub off the debris from their flight. I
suddenly realized that I was in somewhat of a delicate situation. I had
been staying with Jenny for a week, and I had already more-or-less
agreed to stay with Helen tonight. With Ashleigh in the house, I was for
some reason uneasy about playing member of the household rather than
house guest, and I couldn't decide whether to go home to get ready for
dinner or stay here. Helen made the decision for me when she asked in
front of the girls for me to come up and wash her back. As soon as she
did, Jenny asked her if she and Ashleigh could get some help with their
backs as well. Helen said that she didn't think I would have enough time
for that and led me away to general merriment.

    Recurring history was the theme of the day at the restaurant. We had
the same table we had the last time the four of us were there, we had
the same seats, and just as she had before, Helen took Jenny off to the
ladies' room as soon as we were settled. And just as she had before,
Ashleigh turned to me and I heard her say, "Well, Larry. Have you
thought about my question?" As soon as I heard it, I knew that my mind
was playing tricks on me, and I began trying desperately to recall what
she had actually said. But no matter how hard I tried, all I heard were
the same words. I wanted to ask "What question?", but I was afraid of
the look of confusion I would see if I did. After a few seconds,
Ashleigh took pity on me. She put her hand on my arm, "I'm sorry, Larry.
That wasn't fair. I just couldn't resist. I'm here, I'm happy, and I
couldn't help remembering the last time we were here, and how happy it
made me to hear you say, 'Let's do it.' I know you probably don't
remember that, but I'll never forget it."

    Helen could probably hear my sigh of relief in the ladies' room.
When I explained to Ashleigh why I had been sitting there like a stone,
her musical laugh set my heart aflutter. This time I know I blushed, and
this time she noticed. She lifted her hand from my arm to my face for a
moment, then put it back. "I'm not going to let you go back on our deal,
you know," she told me. "It will be a little trickier now, of course,
since I'm staying with the Jenkins, but I'll find a way. Trust me. This
time we don't have an early deadline to worry about." Before she could
say more we saw Jenny and her mother returning to the table.

    For the rest of the evening, we traded stories about what had been
going on over the past several months. Even though we hadn't exactly
been out of communication, there was plenty of catching up to do and
lots of detail to be filled in. They were all happy, happier than I had
seen them in a long time. And if pressed I would confess that I was
happy, too. Then Jenny popped a question that probably should have been
asked much earlier "How did you get your parents to let you come back,
anyway? I thought they were dead set against it."

    Ashleigh stopped and said, "You know, it was the strangest thing. I
think that I could have talked mother into it, but dad wouldn't even
discuss it.  And then last week your mom was in town, and right out of
the blue he told her that I wanted to come back, and that if I could
stay with her he thought it would be a good thing. And the next thing I
know, I'm on the way. Isn't that great?" I felt cold fingers playing
down my spine. I glanced at Helen; she was a picture of innocence, but
was avoiding my eyes. I couldn't wait to get her in bed. I freely admit
that that wasn't unusual, but this time was different. I don't remember
a single thing that any of us said for the rest of the evening,
including me.

    When we got home that night, it was after twelve, but this time we
all got home at the same place. It was a strange feeling. If Ashleigh
was the least surprised that I was spending the night with Helen, she
didn't show it. Of course she had known for a long time that Helen and I
were doing interesting things, but I somehow thought that the openness
of it might at least raise an eyebrow. On the other hand, she knew Helen
well, so probably nothing would surprise her. Regardless, we all climbed
the stairs together, Jenny and Ashleigh heading right at the top as
Helen and I turned left. There was a chorus of goodnights, and then
Helen and I were alone.

    As soon as we were on the stairs leading to her loft, I asked her
what she had engineered. She didn't say a word, just took me by the hand
and led me to her bed, then turned and started unbuttoning my shirt. As
she concentrated on the buttons, she started talking. "I didn't give
away a thing. I didn't have to. Little Kenny surrendered at the first
sign of action." She began unbuckling my pants. "When I flew out there I
wasn't sure what it would take, but I was ready to use my whole arsenal
if necessary.  I grabbed a hotel right outside SeaTac and called his
office as soon as I got to my room.  All I did was leave a message for
him to call me." She pulled my shirt off and tugged my undershirt over
my head. "Mr. High Roller called me back in less than an hour. We
chatted a bit and agreed to get together for lunch. Lift." I did, and
she pulled my shoes and socks off and removed my pants. Then pulled my
briefs down and off. "It's pajama night, bucko," she said and pointed me
at the closet as she began undressing. She stopped talking while she was
changing to her gown, and I suspect she may have been considering how
she was going to continue her story. Still silent, she walked to a small
refrigerator in the corner and pulled out a bucket of ice, a bottle of
champagne, and a pair of tulip glasses. She walked back to the bed, sat
crosslegged on it, and said, "Sit." I complied.

    She poured us each a glass of champagne, handed me mine, touched it
with hers, and sipped. I sipped and listened. "When I saw him walk in I
knew he was rattled, but I didn't know why. It didn't take me long to
figure it out. He started lying through his teeth, but that was just
habit. He was going on about his new branch, rattling nonsense; I don't
think he was even seriously trying to be plausible. Then I had an idea.
I asked him about Janet. He got more nervous, but he talked about how
well she liked Seattle and how the new environment had renewed their
relationship and all that bull shit. I let him go for awhile, then asked
about Ashleigh. He gave the same kind of spiel he had put together for
Janet. I decided I would take a chance, and I got lucky. I gave him a
demure little smile and told him flat out, "Ken, you've found yourself a
little honey and you're getting ready to dump Janet, aren't you?" He
turned white as a sheet. Bingo. Then I told him that I had known he was
a rat ever since he seduced me when Jenny was a baby. I asked him if had
ever told Janet about our little roll in the hay. Larry, that was twelve
years ago, but you should have seen his face; he was still scared to
death Janet would find out. I would lay big odds that he's cheated on
her many, many times since then. I don't know whether she had suspected
something about us and he had denied it or whether he thought it counted
more fucking her friend. I'm sure that part of it was timing. If he was
getting ready to dump her, it could get very expensive if she got
vindictive. Anyway, I let him stew for a few minutes while I chattered
on, then I mentioned that I had heard that Ashleigh wanted to come back
and finish school with Jenny, and asked very nicely if he had thought
about that. He stuttered and stammered for a while, then I said that I
was sorry but I really had to run, but that I really wanted to have a
little heart-to-heart chat with Janet, too, and I would give them a call
that night, and that I really wished he would give some consideration to
Ashleigh's coming back to stay with us, and if he could see his way
clear to let her do it, to let me know when I called and I would see
what I could do. I stood up and walked out of the place leaving him
there still stuttering and stammering. I didn't call that night. But the
next day I called him at his office again, and this time he called back
within ten minutes. I apologized for not calling before, but promised
him I really did want to talk to Janet and that he could be sure I would
call, unless he would rather get together for dinner. I have no idea
what he was thinking of, but he thought dinner was a great idea. Maybe
he thought I wouldn't make a scene in public, or maybe he thought that
he would have a better chance face-to-face than over the phone. I didn't
care, I was just talking anyway, and he surprised me by agreeing to
dinner. I sweetly suggested that it wouldn't be a real party without
Ashleigh, and he said that of course she would be with us. Then as
though it had just occurred to me, I suggested that it might be a little
less messy when he abandoned his family if Ashleigh were staying with
us. I rattled on without giving him a chance to say anything before I
said goodbye and hung up."

    She poured us each another glass. "Can you imagine what I was
feeling? I had come prepared to do violent battle, and this asshole was
going to fold just because he's afraid his wife will find out about a
one-nighter he had twelve years ago. I was going to win, and still have
everything I needed to burn him really bad once he finally dumped that
little wife. It was all I could do to keep from starting a victory
bonfire in the hotel lobby. That night we had dinner at a restaurant
downtown near his new office. It was great. Ken was putting on a
first-rate act: one of his better efforts, really. Janet was Janet. And
Ashleigh was delightful, as always. I started talking about old times,
and all the fun we had had back then, and all the bridge trips we had
made, and all of the crazy things we had done, and I could see Ken
getting more and more nervous. I made a point nearly every time I told a
story of turning to Ken and saying, "Remember, Ken?" It was wonderful
watching him. He knew exactly what was coming, and since I was telling
my stories in chronological order, he knew how close I was getting. I
had changed topics a couple of times to bring the conversation around to
current events both in Seattle and back home, so it seemed perfectly
natural when I asked Ken if he remembered that regional in Syracuse
where we ran into Kaplan and Kay. He knew what was coming, but he had to
say he did. Then I turned to Ashleigh, and said that I just remembered
that Jenny had told me to ask her when she was going to get a chance to
come visit us.  Poor Ashleigh had no idea what the hell I was trying to
get her to say, and I could tell she was trying to think of something
she could say without making trouble when good ol' Ken perks right up
and said that he wasn't really satisfied with Ashleigh's school work
since she had come to Seattle and thought she might do much better if
she could go back to her old school, and that he knew it was a real
imposition particularly on such short notice but he was asking as an old
friend if Ashleigh could stay with us for the rest of the year while she
went to school. I will remember that moment until I die." She stopped
and smiled at me with a distant look, and I knew that she was seeing it
again as she spoke.  "Janet's chin bounced right off the table, but I
think she was pleased, too. I blithely ignored the reactions around the
table and took it as a routine question. I just answered, 'Why, of
course she can!' and the table went wild. When things settled down,
Ashleigh asked what had happened in Syracuse, and I said, 'Your father
forgot to knock out an entry and let Norman Kay catch me in a strip
squeeze for an overtrick.' And dear Ken was terribly upset. I don't know
why. I didn't say anything about what happened after the game." She gave
me a wicked smirk. "I let him rant for a while about how his play was
correct and how I had always been a result merchant, then I reached over
and patted his hand and said with as much condescension as I could
manage, 'It's all right Ken, it was a tough play.' Poor Janet was
sitting there about to burst with laughter, but Ashleigh didn't even try
to hold it in." She finished off the champagne. "I think that now I
understand the attractions of the age of chivalry: slaying foul dragons
and rescuing fair maidens is such great fun."

    She stood up and started clearing away the debris. "The rest of the
trip was all just tieing up loose ends and taking care of the details.
Oh. And I did happen to call one of my old buddies and tell him that I
thought that I might be getting ready to feed the sharks pretty soon,
and that it would be nice if he would spread the word, and that a little
work just might turn up a young lady who would bear watching." With that
she turned back toward the bed with an expression of joy that would have
been a credit to a Superbowl winning quarterback, pumped her fist in the
air a couple of times, then dived into the bed beside me. "Now. You.
Give me that reward I have so nobly earned."

    So I did.

    Ashleigh's arrival changed things, of course. I still stayed with
Helen on most weekends, and on the odd day during the week, but Jenny
was in an awkward position and started banking days. It honestly didn't
bother me. The whole family, and I included all four of us in that, was
happy. It was a very good time. Once Ashleigh had truly settled in,
Jenny really did throw a welcome-back party for her. I had planned to
stay away on that night, but Helen asked me to help out and I did.  It
was a good group of kids, roughly half and half boys and girls, but I
didn't notice any obvious pairing off. I recognized a couple of the
girls from Jenny's exhibitions and, purely as a mental exercise, forced
myself to remember what they looked like when wearing somewhat less.
Despite my misgivings, it turned out to be a very entertaining evening.

    Over the next few weeks, I thought I noticed a bit of growing
tension. Not the bad kind: everyone still seemed to be honestly enjoying
the others. It seemed to me that it might be sexual tension because of
Jenny's sudden abstinence and Ashleigh's continued wait, but I didn't
want to give myself too much credit. As it turned out, perhaps I didn't
give myself enough.

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