Blending Families

He got the widow, her daughter, and his step-daughter in his bed.

More a romance than a stroke story. It takes a while for the characters to 'hook up,' but there's romantic sex, spanking, first time sex, foreplay, post play, and incest-in-spirit if not in law. Many thanks to OneSilky for her assistance in editing.

*

"Dad, can you pick us up?" It was his daughter, Tara, sounding a little angry, a little scared, a lot flustered. "Mr. Freeman was supposed to, but he's way late, and isn't answering his cell phone."

"That's not like Tod. Something must have happened. What time is it? Hmm, quarter of four. Yeah, I'll be at the bus loop in ten or fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy. Thank you."

Senge MacMillan (Mac to his friends, SaintGeorge to those who read his birth certificate and weren't aware of the custom, 'Sin-gee' to those who were), buzzed his secretary and told her he was leaving a little early, explaining there was some sort of emergency with his daughter. Sarah, who had been with him since he joined the agency some ten years ago, just smiled and said, "Mmhmm. Convenient for a Friday. Have a good weekend."

"Kiss my rosy cheeks, Sarah. You have a good one, too." Sarah's laughter followed him to the parking lot, into the late September day. Ten minutes later he was pulling into the bus loop at his daughter's high school. Cindy Freeman, neighbor, best friend and confidante, was with her. Coincidentally, the girls shared their birthdays, and had turned eighteen just before Labor Day. As they did everything else, they hopped into the back seat together.

"Thank you, Mr. Mac. I don't know what happened to my dad. He took the day off to work on that old van he's restoring. Maybe he had to go into the city for some parts. Mom's at a three day conference this weekend, and gave us strict instructions not to call her except for real, like life and death, emergencies. She's supposed to give some kind of presentation tomorrow to introduce her to the owners of her new account."

"It's okay, Cindy. It got me out of work early, and gave me a chance to tease my secretary. How's school going for you this year?"

"So far so good, we've just been reviewing last year in science, math and Spanish. Thank goodness, I'm done with history and Civics."

Shortly after that exchange, Mac turned onto their street. He could see Tod's car still parked in their driveway. He pulled into his own drive, almost directly across the street. Instincts from his career in law enforcement causing an uneasy feeling, he instructed the girls to go into his house and wait while he checked around back of the Freeman's. He crossed the street and walked up the drive and around the garage.

Just ahead of the rear wheel of the minibus he had been restoring, Tod Freeman lay crumpled on the ground. It appeared that death had been instantaneous. When Mac checked, the body was cold, in rigor.

He called 911, reported the accident, requested an ambulance and asked for a silent approach since there was no hope of resuscitation. In less than five minutes a police car pulled into the driveway. Mac greeted the officer and led her back to the body. Following a brief interrogation, and examination of the scene, she released Mac and suggested he go home. She said she'd handle the ambulance team. Mac told her he would tell the daughter and notify the wife. The officer reminded him that an adult, preferably a family member, would need to identify the body as soon as practicable.

When Mac walked into his house, he was immediately pounced on by the two girls who wanted to know why the police were there. He pulled Cindy into the family room, away from the front of the house and, as gently as he could, told her what had happened. When she asked if she could see her dad, he replied. "It would be a whole lot better if you waited. You don't want to remember him like I just saw him, Cindy, believe me. It'll be a whole lot better if you can wait."

When she nodded, he continued, "I need to call your mom. Do you have her cell phone on your speed dial?"

"Yeah." She went into the living room where she had left her purse and books. While she searched through her purse, she glanced out the window and saw the ambulance had arrived. The young police officer was coming across the street, carrying a small plastic bag. "Mr. Mac, the policewoman is coming over here."

Mac met the woman at the door. She told him the ambulance team was done, "I emptied his pockets. The MO didn't see any need to keep his possessions for the autopsy, so I thought I'd ask you to see they get to the family."

"Of course, be happy, or rather unhappy to. This is Mr. Freeman's daughter, Cindy, Officer...?"

"Santiago. I'm very sorry for your loss, Miss. They were about ready to load him into the ambulance. Would you like a chance to say good-bye?"

Cindy looked at Mac, questioning him with her eyes. He nodded, saying "I'm sure it'll be okay now, Cindy."

"Have you contacted the wife yet, sir?" the young officer asked

"I was just about to call her office. She's at a conference, here in town, but supposedly unavailable. I'm pretty sure, though, I'll be able to get through."

"Okay. If you have any problem, let me know. I know I'll be able to get through."

Mac nodded and looked at Cindy's cell phone display of speed dials. He found her mother's number, highlighted it and pressed Send. At the fourth ring, a very exasperated voice answered, "I thought I told you not to call me unless there was an emergency."

"Polly, it's Mac. There is a problem. Can you get away?"

"Mac? What's wrong? Is somebody hurt? Who?" Concern and worry were plain in her voice.

"It's Tod. Can you get away? Tell me where you are. I'll come drive you."

"We're at the Highlander on route 35. Mac, what's happened?"

"I'll be there in ten minutes. Wait for me in the lobby."

***** Waiting for a stop light, Mac glanced at the weeping woman by his side, well aware his actions at the motel might have cost her her job. After he had broken the news to her, he had accompanied her to the conference room where she had gathered her belongings. She had simply told her boss that there was a family emergency and she had to leave.

As they left the room, her boss had followed her and tried to call her back, telling her that her job was on the line. Mac had stopped and, placing his hand on the man's chest, explained she had just lost her husband.

"Well, if the guy's dead, there's nothing she can do for him. We need her here tonight and tomorrow."

Mac glanced around the room. Five men, all past fifty, waiting for Polly to return, a sideboard full of cheese, crackers and champagne. "Just what did you need Polly for?" Mac asked. At six foot four, he towered over the older man by at least six inches. A guilty look flashed across the businessman's face.

"Y'know," Mac said, "there are three kinds of assholes, dumb ones, uptight ones, and just plain stupid ones. Which are you? Don't answer, I already know. Polly'll be back to work when she can handle it."

"Damn you, Tod Freeman!" The explosion of sound from his passenger called Mac back from the replay of the conversation with Polly's boss. "Damn you! What the hell were you doing, working under that freakin' bus alone? Why...why...why?" The sobs came harder now.

Mac reached over and took one of Polly's hands. "Polly, I'm here for you, for anything you might need. With arrangements, meals, babysitting, relative sitting, a night away or out. You don't need to ask, just tell me what you want done."

"Thanks, Mac. I appreciate that." Her voice was rough with emotion, but the sobbing was done for now. "I'll probably be leaning on you a bit for the next week or so. And if you know of any, I'll probably need a new job.

"You know I've been in charge of customer support for a couple of years. I was offered a chance to become an account manager, and was to lead the client's annual review. This was supposed to be my make or break meeting. If the company didn't approve of my presentation, the promotion was out the window. No presentation, no promotion and no job."

"You can thank me later. You know, you were being set up for blackmail."

"What? What do you mean?" Uncertain that she had heard him correctly, Polly was still astonished, and it showed in her voice and face.

"I'm willing to bet, if there were a way to prove it, I could predict what was going to happen in that conference room tonight and tomorrow. Do you know who had the rooms on either side of you in the motel?"

"Yes, my boss and his supervisor."

"With connecting doors to both rooms, right. And I'll bet your client had or was about to cancel the meeting for some vague reason."

"Not exactly, but we did get a message that they were only sending one individual instead of the five who were scheduled." She looked at him, confusion on her face.

"So, six men and you, and a case of champagne, with only cheese and crackers to eat. Did anyone bring a video camera?"

"As a matter of fact, my boss, Harry Pieters, brought one to tape my presentation, so he could give me feedback." Her look now was plainly one of confusion and disbelief.

"How many other women hold jobs like the one you were trying for in your company?"

"I'm not sure, two or three. They don't come around much."

"Do you know the last one who got promoted?" "Yes, Joan Nero. I was hired to replace her. Why?"

"Call her, invite her to lunch someplace out of the way. Ask her not to tell anyone." He made the turn onto their street, now quiet. "Why don't you and Cindy join Tara and me for dinner? We can order something, go get it, or eat out, my treat." He pulled into his drive and shut off the engine, waiting for her reply.

Polly's expression had changed to one of anger. "You really think those bastards were going to get me drunk and rape me, then try to use a video to blackmail me into more sex? Could they really be that frikking stupid?"

"I'm pretty sure they have done it before. That's why I suggested you call..what'd you say her name was, Joan?...and ask her over lunch what happened to her. Describe the set up and ask, promising secrecy or help, which ever she wants. If she's married, or in a relationship, she'll probably want secrecy. That's their hold on her."

A shudder passed through her body, finishing with a mild head shake. "How did you figure it out so fast? I was with those guys all day, and didn't suspect a damn thing."

"I've been in this town since I was eighteen. I go to the country club, the gym, the barbershop, men's bars, places where men talk without thinking they might be overheard. If you listen, you hear rumors. I've heard this one for a few years; never with names, though. Plus, you were focused on the promotion you deserved."

He paused, considering what he had done and its implications. "If Joan agrees to meet with you, I'll go along and keep out of sight unless one of them shows up with her." He turned off the ignition and opened his door. "Come on, let's get the kids."

Over dinner, Mac had led the discussion to funeral arrangements, necessary family notifications, flowers, and such. Two of the factors which had drawn Polly and Tod together were that they were both only children, and had both lost their parents shortly after graduating college. Neither had kept in contact with the few distant cousins they had.

Cindy was given the job of writing her dad's obituary for the newspaper.

It was late, and dark when they returned from supper. Standing in the driveway, looking across the street at the empty, foreboding house, Mac felt Polly, standing next to him, shiver. "Would you like to use my guest room tonight? It might be easier to return with the sun shining."

"Thank you, Mac. I told you I was going to lean on you a bit, probably more than a bit. What do you say, Cindy? Want to sleep over with Tara?"

"That'd be nice, Mom. Can we?"

Polly took Mac's arm. "That's settled, then. Did you ever hear anything from Janice?"

"Nothing from her since she left. Nothing about her for a couple of years." He heaved a huge sigh. "I got off the job after I got hurt so she wouldn't worry. I thought she'd be happy. Then I come home one day and find a note on the kitchen counter, telling me she needed some space for a while. Five years is quite a while. The only clue I have that she's still alive is that someone is still paying money into her Social Security account, according to the annual statement they send. There's no proof it's her, but it's all we have, and no way to get any more information from the government."

"What did you tell Tara?" She paused, looking away. "What do I tell Cindy?"

"Cindy knows; she was there, watching, when they put Tod in the ambulance, while I was calling you."

"Not that he's gone, but why. Tod always promised her he would support her no matter what she did, that he would always be there for her, to do whatever she needed from him. How can you explain to a teenager when an adult breaks a promise like that, no matter how unrealistic?"

"Give her some credit, Polly. She's more grown up than you realize. And she grew up quite a bit today. Our daughters are really pretty savvy young women. I know if I were a junior or senior in high school, I'd be banging on their door every night."

"Why Senge MacMillan! Remind me to lock my daughter up at night, with you in the neighborhood." Both laughed, the first time since Mac found Tod's body.

***** "Did you hear what my dad said to your mom?" whispered Tara to her friend later that night, when they were in bed.

"What?"

"He said we were really pretty, and if he were in high school, he'd be banging on our doors every night."

"Well, if he were banging on my door, pretty soon he'd be bangin' something else. Your dad is hot."

"Mmm. I know; if he weren't my dad, I'd do him, too." Silently, she added, "I might, anyway."

***** The next day, Mac drove Polly to the coroner's, to identify Tod's body. He then accompanied her and Cindy to a few funeral homes, to find one with which she felt comfortable. He stayed with her and Cindy while they struggled with the decision between sentiment and practicality. When they proved unable to come to a decision both were happy with, he suggested cremation, either keeping the ashes in a container in the home, or scattering them somewhere where Tod always seemed happy.

Cindy immediately suggested the lake near their cabin. Polly smiled and agreed. During the summer, Tod had always arranged to have Friday afternoons and Monday mornings off to give him two full days of fishing. Both of the women hugged Mac in thanks for his suggestion, and his help in making the difficult decision.

After finalizing the arrangements, and giving the funeral director Cindy's draft of the obituary, Mac drove the women home. He went in the house, now closed up for a day and a half, with yesterday's dirty dishes and breakfast remains still on the counter. With practiced skill, born of necessity, Mac cleared the counter, throwing out the spoiled milk and dried toast with a minimum of fuss or bother. Before either of the house's residents was aware of what he had done, the dishes were in the dish washer, the garbage was outside, and the windows were open to air the house out.

Before he left, he noted that it was still warm enough to fire up the charcoal grill and invited the mother and daughter to join him and his for burgers and salad. When Polly hesitated, Cindy didn't. "Can we, Mom? I'm not ready to be here just yet."

"Okay. Thank you, Mac. God, how many times have I said that the last two days? I'll see if I can scare up something for dessert. Maybe something for ice cream sundaes, would that do?"

"Perfect. It's five now, dinner around seven?"

"Fine, we'll see you then."

When the two women were alone, Cindy spoke. "Mom, would it be horribly disrespectful of Daddy if I said I envy Tara her father, but I'm glad I'm not her."

"No, sweetie, I understand why, especially now, why you might envy Tara. But why are you glad you're not her?"

"Can I ask you a personal question, Mom, woman to woman, kind of?"

Polly smiled. "You can ask. If it's too personal, I might not answer."

"Do you think Mr. Mac is hot?"

"Is that why you don't want to be Tara? You have your eyes on Mac?" She smiled and pulled the youngster down on the couch beside her.

"Sort of. You didn't answer my question," Cindy pointed out.

"Hmm. Do I think Mac is hot? Do you remember when we were talking about masturbation, and I told you that sometimes it helped to think about a certain person you wanted to have touch you?" Cindy nodded, a puzzled look on her face. "Well, sometimes, when you're actually making love, it's helpful to have similar fantasies, and Mac has been a frequent fantasy of mine. And that fact never passes your lips, understand?" Polly said, smiling, standing up.

Cindy nodded, smiling. "What?" asked her mom, seeing the smile.

"Girl talk," Cindy replied, laughing. "Our first time."

***** Tod Freeman had been a well respected member of his community, and the members of his family were well liked. His memorial service was attended by his co-workers, Polly's co-workers, Cindy's friends, and the family's neighbors, several of whom came up to Mac and said how good it was of him to reach out to Polly and Cindy, to help them through this crisis. Polly was able to pull Joan Nero aside and talk briefly with her.

When Polly returned to work two weeks later, she found she had a new boss, Joan Nero, who called Polly into her office as soon as she was settled in. Joan was standing, looking down at her desk. "I've been made regional manager, thanks to your encouraging me to come forward. The home office wasn't too pleased that those... Chet and his friends had been able to get away with their shit for so long without Richards even becoming suspicious. I know you're nowhere near ready to think about it, but I doubt if you'll be single very long." Joan straightened her back. "Have you thought about whether you want to continue working here, or even continue working?"

"Depending on what the job is, I would like to continue here. With those five jerks gone, the atmosphere should improve, and I like the rest of the people."

"I have three possible positions for you, given your background and training. Account director, account manager, or business/office manager. You know what the first two are, and how much travel would be required.

"As the office/business manager, you would be in charge of the day to day business of keeping the office open; that includes the secretarial pool, all necessary supplies, all maintenance contracts, snowplowing, janitorial services, you name it. If it impacts the everyday functioning of the office, you're in charge; as well, the new supervisor of customer service will report to you. It's a giant headache, but it is primarily a 9 to 5 job, Monday to Friday.

"As for pay, the traveling jobs are strictly performance based; commission varies from twenty to thirty percent of the value of the first annual contract, spread over twelve months. The office job is salaried, and would come with a 25 percent raise immediately, to be reviewed in six months with an eye to a similar increase. You get the front corner office, plus the ability to choose your own secretary; and, as senior level administration, there are some increased benefits, including another two weeks vacation each year."

Polly plopped down in a chair. "I...I...I don't know what to say. I don't see that I did anything to merit such a promotion. If you are serious, I'll take the office job. I couldn't leave Cindy alone for any lengthy time right now."

"That's what I thought your answer would be. While we've been talking, I had your stuff moved into your new office. Welcome back. Take some time to review our present contracts for building services, and our lease. Home office would like to see us presenting a better face to our clientele when they visit. Either redecorate or move. Put together some figures and we'll talk about it next week."