Platinum-blonde city socialite Carol Menzies arrived home tired after spending four hours at the Mayor's annual fund-raising charity dinner listening, to 1½ hours of speeches.
However, the food was splendid almost making the single ticket of $1500 worthwhile. For thin-faced and gushy Carol, 'almost' was a word embodying infinite elasticity as if to say 'there's almost life on Mars'.
A more basic person would have described the evening as 'a fucking boring rip-off with passable food' but Carol would be dismissive of that, although not having to pay for admission as she'd seeded the organization and promotion of the event with a $15k donation.
The garage door closed automatically behind her
The millionaire in her own right (after two failed marriages) checked the suspended video screen just above the front of the car windscreen that triggered the scanner. It revealed the only living thing above the size of a rat inside the house was her sleeping housemaid Rosa, and a quick enlargement revealed no one was beside Rosa.
She entered the house idly wondering who her latest husband Bevan was seducing that night and whether her daughter Eliot was practicing safe sex by being in the arms of one of her only child's girlfriends.
In the home office, Carol checked her emails with the spam already filtered out. There were three invitations to social functions. She declined one and accepted two, those acceptances automatically being entered into her social diary as full messages.
She'd saved the only other message for last; it was from her sister who lived in New Zealand, Zoe. Although the two fought like cats, she loved Zoe.
Hi Carol
Hope you are having you usual loving Autumn. Harris has graduated Master of Music (Performance). You will recall you were responsible for this interest, sending your nephew a ukulele for his fifth birthday. He wishes to spend a month in the States winding down after spending three months following competition of his academic studies before refocusing on his next move. Darling, could he stay with you for a while? He leaves for heading your way this Saturday.
Zoe.
Carol replied yes, that Zoe should send the flight details and she'd meet Harris at the local airport.
Sighing, Carol remembered the last time Harris had visited: a pimply faced quiet and intellectual youth who'd just turned eighteen.
Twice she'd caught Eliot's girlfriends, first Mandy and then Kyra, sucking his penis on the sunroom sofa. The poor embarrassed boy; she knew it hadn't been his fault. She'd been rather taken breathless at seeing the length and width of it.
Both girls had looked crestfallen when sent off with a warning not to practice their disgusting recreational habits in Carol's home ever again.
Carol wondered if she should have Harris sleep with her. He would be almost twenty-four now; it had been almost that long since she last slept with her compulsive fornicating husband and he'd shifted, at her request, into one of the guests' bedrooms.
No, her family wouldn't tolerate her fornicating with her nephew. She'd put Harris into the wing where Eliot slept. He'd be left un-molested there as her daughter confined sex to her females she knew and trusted. What a sensible girl.
Next morning, Carol told Eliot of her cousin's imminent arrival. Eliot was Carol's step-daughter who Carol had cared for apart from the first ten months of Eliot's life.
Oval-faced with a generously wide mouth that took focus off her almost Roman nose, Eliot sighed and asked, "Where will he sleep?"
"Not with you dear, in the room opposite you."
"But what if one of my girl friends stays and he hears us?"
"Well after the first time of hearing your lusty females, I'd assume he'd have learned of your sexual preference."
"But that will be so embarrassing. I know, let him sleep with you when I have a friend stay over."
"Very droll darling; your father would be impressed."
"Why do you think that? He fucks anything that moves."
"That is an exaggeration, I'm sure."
Eliot bit her lip and then decided to say it.
"He's tried it on with Rosa on three occasions."
"The wicked devil; I hope he doesn't give her a sexual nasty."
Eliot looked shocked.
"Is he contaminated and a carrier?"
"I wouldn't know, but he does put it around a great deal, so my friends tell me."
Eliot saw this as an opportunity to learn more. "When did you two last have sex?"
"Almost three years ago."
"Then where do you find comfort?"
"My dear, as I go to extraordinary lengths to bury my tracks and that means I'm very unlikely to tell you, no matter how much I love you and knowing I could trust you to keep quiet. Please understand my situation."
Eliot smiled and kissed her mom. For as long as she could remember, she'd regarded Carol as her mom, rather than her step-mom.
"You are very wise not to tell me mom. I like the thought that you are receiving your share."
"I seem to do very well with casual alternative male company darling, and since we are having this riveting mother-daughter chat, may I ask do you ever do it with males?"
"Occasionally, and currently it's once or twice a week with the brother of one of my girlfriend's lovers."
"What, the three of you...err...together?"
"What time does the music man from New Zealand arrive, mom?"
"Oh, sorry; over the boundary, was I? He's due from Los Angeles at 7:30 on Saturday evening."
"Good, I'll be at a movie on Saturday with Delaney and won't invite her to stay the night."
Carol said a good move; Delaney was likely to also favor a romp with the visitor.
Eliot flushed and shrugged.
On Friday at breakfast, Carol and Bevan began to bicker. Eliot moved in to break it up and found Carol was breaking a dinner date with him on Saturday with three other couples who dine out together twice a year.
Bevan snorted, "She wants to meet this bozo from New Zealand."
"I'll go to an earlier movie and meet him mom."
"Darling, you don't have to give up your evening, your father is quite capable of going out to dinner without me or alternatively finding a substitute to partner him."
"No, for the sake a peace, allow me to substitute for you mom and I'll meet my cousin."
"Thanks baby," said Bevan. "Here's a couple of hundred toward dinner and the movies with your arty distant cousin from god knows where."
"Thanks daddy."
* * *
People off the aircraft cleared quickly and the only person left was a guy with a backpack talking to two female flight attendants who were laughing with him and showed no urgency about walking off with their wheelie travel bags. Eliot decided it must be him, the grease-ball.
"Harris?"