The Converse Chronicles

Introduction: If you haven't read Parts 1-3 of "The Converse Chronicles", then you might be a little lost, but this story can stand on its own, with a little imagination on your part.

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New Characters:

Deanna Converse - Paul Converse's 50 year old wife and Angela's mother. Deanna was a cocktail waitress and part-time model before getting pregnant with Angela. A troublesome pregnancy and the depression of Angela's father leaving before she was even born led to a very bad physical breakdown (described harshly by Angela in Chapter 2). She is away "visiting family" at the start of this story, but as we soon learn here, other reasons for the trip and its unplanned extension have taken place...

(For the record, the tale of the family tragedy detailed below isn't actually exaggerated by much at all... proof that life truly is stranger than fiction!)

*****

Chapter 4: The Return of the Queen

(concurrent to, and the day after, Chapter 3)

"I know I've been gone a long time, but I was sure you and Angela could handle it together. You two have always been so close and I'm so happy you chose to be the man that her biological father wouldn't be."

Deanna held the phone in her flawlessly manicured hands, standing naked in front of the full-length mirror in her old bedroom at her parents' house. *HER* house, she had to remind herself, after the bizarre occurrences of the past three months.

What was supposed to be a fun-filled family gathering for her mother's 75th birthday party and her parent's 55th anniversary turned into a spectacle of mayhem and wonder.

Amidst the revelry, a chaotic scene broke out, instigated by Deanna's drunken brother-in-law, Scott, lecherously suggesting to Deanna a threesome with his wife, Deanna's sister. Tensions escalated, words were exchanged, misunderstandings grew into open accusations... with the flow of alcohol and the naturally unstable state of the family already intertwined, it was only a matter of time before the powder keg was lit.

The party ended violently... tragically. Scott, in a drunken rage at being denied, tried to argue for what he wanted in the only way he knew how, with his fists. Swinging wildly at his wife and sister-in-law in the kitchen, the women fled out to the spacious backyard where the party remained in full swing, so to speak. Dean, the girls' father, rose from his chair and confronted his belligerent and bellicose son-in-law. As their confrontation grew, Scott let fly with his fists once more, and proceeded to tackle the elderly Dean to the ground. He pummeled the old man over and over again, fatally as it turned out. Dean's only living son, Michael, came flying into the fray and tackled the much larger Scott off of his unmoving father. The men wrestled and traded blows, rolling across the yard until they reached the natural rock grotto pool. Both men's heads were dashed on the sharp rocks, and between their furious attacks, and the water quickly turning red where they went under, neither rose again from the watery depths.

While the chaos of the physical battle erupted all around, Deanna's mother, Sandra, suffered a massive, fatal heart attack. Finally, Shari, Scott's wife and Deanna's sister, came out from behind the shed she had hid behind and... after taking in all that was before her, had the last bonds of her sanity slip away as her family self-destructed around her. The police and paramedics found her, much later, sitting in the closet of the master bedroom having a serious conversation with a pair of leather pumps and a camisole.

Deanna, having been away from this group of idiots for a happily extended period, stood by and observed. Once she had extricated herself from Scott's disgusting grasp, she stood apart from the melee, saddened somewhat, but strangely unmoved otherwise. It was as if she somehow knew that the family she had been born into would one day collapse in on itself in spectacular fashion.

What she didn't know, however, was just how much money was involved in this little fiasco. Scott, of course, had left everything in his will to his wife, Deanna's sister. Her parents, likewise, had left most of everything to the older sister. Her brother Michael, who was single, had left his things to Deanna, as they had always been closer to each other than to Shari. What that meant was, Deanna was one drooling invalid away from a great deal of money, hence why this trip had taken so much longer to finish.

After arranging for suitable long-term care for her now incapacitated sister, and being named legal conservator to all the money and property involved, Deanna had decided to make a few changes in her life. She sold Scott's construction company to one of his partners for a few million dollars. With nothing of real interest among them, she also liquidated Michael's assets and belongings. Most surprising of all, however, were the shrewd and careful investment caches that Dean had nurtured throughout the years. When it was all said and done, Deanna had made a little over 10 million dollars just by coming home for a visit.

All of this played through her mind again as she listened to her husband, Paul, rattle on about the girls' final days of high school and their summer plans. She chuckled to herself as she thought of 'the girls'. Although only Angela was hers, she was as much a mother to Cordelia as her natural mother, Carmen, was and vice versa. The girls were inseparable, and she was very happy that Angela had such a close, strong friendship with Cordelia.

What neither the girls nor her husband knew was that the bond between Deanna and Carmen was far more than their children and spouses knew. Although Carmen was happily married to her lesbian wife, Carla, she had found something in the lush-bodied Deanna she found irresistable and they frequently engaged in frenzied bouts of clandestine sex, usually in a parking lot somewhere near one or the others office, in an attempt to keep the affair private.

Deanna was sad that she had ended up missing their high school graduation, but she had explained to Paul what was going on. She had asked him to not get into specifics with Angela, as that was a family issue, and despite him being there for the last 15 years for them, she didn't feel it was right to burden him with having to explain the hurricane of events that had taken place here.

She knew, however, there would be a lot MORE explaining to come when they saw her for the first time. It wasn't just the arrangements that had kept Deanna in southern California for this long. It was also recovery. Having a windfall of money, a house full of memories of the woman she once was, and ready access to the Mecca of plastic surgery that is southern California led Deanna to make an impulsive, but altogether very satisfying decision.

Standing before her in the mirror wasn't the flabby, 50 year old mother that Angela had spitefully described to Paul as part of her seduction of her step-father. Standing before her was a vision, the promise of what might have been made real by the miracle of modern surgical practice. Her breasts, which had once been a curvy 32C on her 5'9" frame, had ballooned up to 36Fs after Angela. They had been heavy, and saggy, and thoroughly uncomfortable. Now they stood proud and firm as 34DDs, and her nearly inch long, chocolate brown nipples were almost constantly erect at the sight of herself.

Her long legs and tummy had been lasered and vacuumed and treated until they were tight and firm once more. She had, however, chosen to leave the light trace of lines on her face as they were. Something about the years, the wisdom, the trials, and the joys that had made them all were important to her, and she didn't want to erase all that she had naturally grown to be. She also, in a funny quirk, decided to leave one streak of her auburn bangs gray instead of returned to its natural color.

Turning her mind back to her husband, she said, "Honey, I love you and I have a wonderful surprise for you when I get home. I hope you'll like it as much as I think you will. I'll be home tomorrow." And with that, hung up the phone and began to gather her things and pack for the flight home the next morning.

*****

Paul and Angela pulled into the airport parking and made their way towards the baggage carousel to greet the third member of their family. As the passengers of Delta flight 5720 poured out into the main terminal of San Antonio International Airport, Paul looked around somewhat confused. He knew Deanna had flown back first class, so she should have been one of the first off the flight. However, as the numbers of people began to thin, he still had not seen his wife. Angela was growing restless, not wanting to be stuck picking up her mother whom she had a strained relationship with, at best. And knowing that Mommy Dearest was home would cut greatly into the time SHE had available to enjoy her stepfather.

Just then, the moody teen locked eyes with a stunning woman. Angela had rarely seen a woman who completely took her breath away. Cordelia, and her mother Carmen, were far and away the only two she could think of, but one look at this woman made her knees weak. She was tall, slightly taller than Angela's long 5'8" frame. She had the most ravishing auburn hair, with a streak of what looked to be gray in it, but that couldn't be from age, she thought. This woman had the magnificent body of a late 20s or early 30s athlete. The smoothly-defined calf muscles below her knee-length, form fitting dress flexed and danced as she sauntered slowly towards the pair. Her large chest stuck boldly out from the dress top, partially hidden beneath a stylish leather bolero jacket. It was only then, while examining this woman and how she was watching her, the thunderbolt struck. The lock of gray WAS from age, and now that she could see her clearly as the woman slowly walked towards them, the unmistakable scar over the woman's lip from an ice skating accident in her youth brought Angela's world view crashing down around her.

This vision of feminine perfection casually gliding towards her was her very own mother. But a vision of her mother, now that she looked more carefully, she had only seen in pictures in old family photo albums from before she was born. Mutely, Angela tugged on her stepfather's sleeve and pointed at the woman... her mother.

Paul's reaction was a bit more openly startled than his stepdaughter's.

"What is it, Ange... Oh, my god! Deanna??? What...? How??? Um...", was all Paul could manage before his rejuvenated wife came fully into his arms and kissed him like it was their first night together again.

After making out for an uncomfortable amount of time, at least to Angela, who stood awkwardly off to the side of this wanton display, Deanna finally pulled herself away from her dumbfounded husband. As she turned to her daughter, Angela had to shove down a wave of utter jealousy mixed with an unthinkable lust for her flesh and blood mother, and try to maintain a calm and unperturbed exterior, as she didn't want to be the reason this reunion turned ugly. As her mother embraced her warmly, the light perfume she wore touched Angela's senses and she could feel there was no negativity coming from her mother at all. In fact she seemed to be, emotionally and physically, in such a heightened state of calm that she simply didn't experience unhappiness anymore. Something about that warmth radiating out from her melted the long-built ice that had crawled over Angela's heart where her mother was concerned. Angela knew, in a way she simply couldn't explain HOW she knew, that whatever distance she had built between her and her mother was only a fiction in her mind, that her mother had never stopped caring, or didn't or wouldn't understand her. Those thoughts she had were the egotistical internal excuses of a young teen's mind, looking for reasons to be contrary, to distance herself from the one constant she had known in life to try and make her own way.

Angela broke off the hug and held her mother at arms length for a moment, looking into her eyes and tearing up at the sudden realizations she had just come to.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Deanna asked sincerely.

Unable to contain the flood any longer, Angela burst into tears and buried her face in her mother's altogether firmer than she remembered chest. Which only made her cries and sobs wrack her more heavily. Paul and Deanna exchanged a long glance, Paul shaking his head in bewilderment at his stepdaughter's occasionally mercurial nature, and Deanna holding on to her lone daughter and letting the storm of her emotions subside before trying again to engage with her. After a good ten minutes of heartfelt sobbing, Angela finally extricated herself from her mother's tender embrace and tried, rather futilely, to "fix herself".

Deanna chuckled warmly at Angela's attempts and simply took her hands in her own and said, "That can wait, dear. Come talk with me for a moment, there's some things you need to know about what happened back home, and I don't think you're going to like it very much. Hopefully this burst of emotion has left you a little numb."

Paul nodded to the two most important ladies in his life and said, "I'll get your bags, dear, and take them out to the car. Text me when you're done breaking it to her and I'll pick y'all up at the curb."

As Paul rolled up to the pick-up zone in his Charger, he noted that his ladies were once again sobbing, this time together, and he wished he could do something to spare them that renewed pain. Unexpectedly, Deanna joined Angela in the backseat, as to not leave her even a little bit alone following the devastating news of the loss of her grandparents, aunt, and uncles.

Angela found herself laying face up across her mother's lap in the backseat, and despite her sadness and pain, her hands were almost automatically drawn to her mother's impressive new bosom. Deanna looked down fondly at her daughter's exploring hands and tear-streaked face raptly taking in as much as she could of her mother's breasts. Unexpectedly, Deanna felt a thrill run down her spine at her daughter's touch. 'What was that?', she thought to herself. Deanna carefully took her daughter's hands in her own and laid them in Angela's lap. "We'll talk about the changes I've gone through later, sweetheart. Let's just get home and try to relax for now."

'Try to relax, she says' ran through Paul's mind as he maneuvered the car through the typically horrific late afternoon/early evening traffic on Loop 410. 'I've got a step-daughter and her best friend that I've been screwing every chance I can get because my wife had turned into an iceberg, and now that same wife comes home richer and more enticing than a triple chocolate cake! How the hell am I supposed to relax in THAT atmosphere?'

As the Converse car pulled into their driveway, the talk in the backseat had drifted off to a variety of topics. Angela had asked for details on the catastrophe back home. She crowed about the terrific party that Carmen had thrown the girls for their graduation. Deanna had talked a bit about what made her go under the knife so extensively. Paul shut off the car and popped the trunk, gathered his wife's bags and hauled them into the house (in one trip, of course... typically male). Once inside, the reunited family had a quick meal of random leftovers and pieced together goodies, and sat down together to watch their favorite show, "Game of Thrones".

As usual, there were scenes of a rather graphic sexual nature depicted, and with two of the most beautiful women in the world (in his eyes) on either side of him, Paul found himself totally in heaven. Unconsciously, Deanna's hand found its way to Paul's crotch, and found her husband's penis was already halfway erect at the spectacle on the screen before them. Almost at the same time, Angela found herself reaching for her father, and unwittingly bumped into her mother's hand. To cover herself, she feigned a slip while trying to get up, and quickly said, "I need a drink!"

Angela rushed off to the kitchen while her mother and stepfather looked after her, slightly bemused.

"What was that all about?" Deanna asked.

"I don't know," Paul evaded expertly, "I guess she's just had a really, really long day with everything that's happened and went a little fuzzy there for a moment."

"I should go check on her and put her to bed." Deanna mused. Deanna rose from the couch and gave Paul a quick peck on the nose, and one last squeeze of his still-hardening member, and made her way after her daughter to the kitchen. There she found Angela guzzling down a glass of ice water, making a rather astounding mess over the front of her shirt at the same time. Deanna felt another quake run through her as she saw her daughter's nipples stiffened from the freezing water and poking through her blouse, obviously bra-less, as she normally was. 'Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me?', Deanna thought to herself, 'This is my own daughter, not some coked-out model or greedy talent scout trying to get me in her agency that I can fuck and leave without a second thought.'

As Angela lowered the glass and caught sight of her mother, she nearly choked and almost dropped the glass. Deanna quickly moved in and closed her hands around her daughter's on the glass, and there they stood, locked in an awkward hand embrace... before they both started smiling, then giggling, then full-on laughing their heads off. Instinctively, in an act she hadn't done in at least a couple of years, that she could remember, Angela set the glass aside on the counter and embraced her mother fully and told her, "I love you, Mom."

"Oh sweetie, I love you too!" Deanna exclaimed. As she pulled back, she noticed the front of her black dress had been wet down with the spilled water that had soaked into Angela's baby tee. "C'mon honey, let's get out of these wet clothes and get you into bed." Both women paused a moment at their own internal take on how that line could have been meant, and then made their way upstairs to Angela's room. Once there, Angela fetched a towel from her linen closet, removed her clothing, toweled herself down quickly to dry up any wet spots, and then took her clothes into the adjoining bathroom to hang and dry. When she came back, her mother had slipped her black body dress completely off and now stood before her clad in just a sexy lace bra and a very high-hipped thong.

Despite her own obvious near nudity in just a pair of Victoria's Secret cheekies, Angela's jaw was obviously hanging wide open at this sight. Her mother walked over to her grinning and set her forefinger under her chin and pushed upwards. Angela sheepishly closed her mouth and moved towards her queen size bed. Deanna took her hand as she passed by and held her up for a moment. "Angela, dear. You are my one and only child, and no matter what I love you with all my heart. I want you to know that, especially now, as we are the only family we each have left, you can and should tell me anything and everything that is in your heart or on your mind. I will never judge you, nor will I second guess you. You are a grown woman now, and while I will always be your mother, I very much hope you will also consider me your friend and I can help guide you as such throughout the time we have left together."

Angela paused for a moment, contemplating her mother's words, and silently, softly, leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth, something she had rarely done, even when they were getting along in her younger years. For the briefest moment, both women's lips parted in their kiss, before they both came to their senses and pulled apart. After one more fierce hug, Angela lowered herself into the bed, and her mother gently pulled the covers over her and retreated from the bedroom.