[This is a story about making the best of circumstances that seem to come to us. It includes sex between a man and a woman, two women, a man and two women but no anal. It is about loving more than one person. It includes a bit of incest, a little violence and an automobile accident. No cheating wives, no cheating husbands, and no pets. Please enjoy and then vote and leave a comment. I'd like to know what you think of the story.]
First impressions
When I saw her for the first time I was sitting on a bus bench waiting for my ride to work. It was my first day riding the bus to work. A drunk had totaled my car the day before and I was without wheels for the day. She was walking towards me on the sidewalk. I looked because I heard her heels clacking on the sidewalk.
What I saw should have dropped my mouth open. My training in my parent's home stopped that from happening. Their training didn't stop my thoughts. The way she walked was what I would call a strut. She was wearing a teal dress that was the picture of summer. It flared out from her small waist and left her legs uncovered from mid-thigh down to the teal high heel sandals clacking on the sidewalk. At her waist the dress held to her waist by a shiny metal belt. Above the belt the dress held close to her body up to her barely covered breasts. Her upper chest was bare, showing a bit of cleavage and three thousand freckles covering all the exposed skin up to her shoulder length strawberry blond hair.
I memorized everything about her as she walked, until I heard another noise. I heard the squeal of car brakes! My vision widened and I saw the M7 BMW climb the curb and head for her! The driver looked scared to death and before I could even yell, the BMW hit her from behind. It was like watching a movie in slow motion. I saw the bumper hit the back of her calves, cut her legs from under her, tossing her up on the bonnet. Her butt hit the junction of the bonnet and the windscreen and that slammed her upper body back and her head hit the top of the windscreen frame. The windscreen shattered and the car slammed into the building next to the sidewalk.
Before thinking, I ran to the car, noticing blood coming from the back of the woman's head and the broken legs hanging beneath the dress. When I was closer I saw that the driver had slammed his head into the steering wheel and was unconscious. Blood was dripping off his nose.
I called 911 and told the operator what had happened. I was told not to touch either person and the EMT's would be there soon. As I hit the end button I heard the loud approach of the EMT van. In seconds they were all over the situation, working on both injured people. About a minute later a police car arrived and two uniformed officers began taping off the scene and interviewing the three people who saw what had happened. I told my story to Officer McMillan and then to a detective in a tweed jacket a while later. I listened as one of the uniforms called in on his radio. The driver was a Thomas Jenkins, 15, and the car he was driving was registered to a Mrs. Estelle Jenkins. The woman in teal was Jennifer Olsen, unmarried, 28, being transported to Harbor UCLA Hospital.
The interviewing detective wanted to call my boss and get me a paid day off. Since I work for myself it wasn't necessary. He gave me a ride to the station house and videoed my statement. The detective was really a good guy. He called my insurance guy for me and got the agent to get me a car. He took me to the rental agency.
I drove that car to Harbor UCLA Hospital. I said I was Jimmy Olsen, Jennifer's brother. Jimmy was the first name that popped into my head. The receptionist didn't think about Superman or, if she did, she thought I had strange parents. She told me to go up to the third floor and a doctor would come talk to me.
An hour later a doctor in blue scrubs did come see me. He told me my sister had bruised some of her back and butt, broken both legs below the knees, and had a concussion. She had been in surgery and was in recovery. He said she would have a couple nasty scars on her legs but all in all she would fully recover.
As he got up to leave he said I could see her in an hour. A nurse would come get me.
For the hour I thought about what I would say to her. She wasn't my sister. As I thought about what to say to her without her thinking I was some crazy man the hour passed and I found myself following a nurse down the hall to Jennifer's room. The nurse didn't come into the room, she just said, "She's in here," tapped the door and kept walking.
I opened the door and stepped inside. She was half sitting in the bed, meaning it was cranked so she was elevated from her waist up. Her plaster encased legs were elevated with just her toes showing. Everything was white. The pillows, the sheets, the blankets, and the room were white. Her blond hair spread out on the pillow. Her eyes were closed.
I sat in the chair. I kept looking at her, feeling like a peeping tom. I had no business being in her room. I had no idea what I would say when she woke up.
She woke up. She scanned the room and when her eyes met mine she looked at me as if she expected me to be there.
Her voice was very soft, almost a whisper. "I thought it might be you."
"Hi. I know I don't belong here but... here I am. I'm Nick. I told the nurse downstairs I was your brother, Jimmy Olsen. Is there anyone I can notify that you're in the hospital?"
"You mean my husband, boyfriend, brother, mom and dad? No."
"Pardon me for saying it but that's hard to believe."
"Why?"
"I would think someone who looks like you would have a husband or a boyfriend close at hand."
"Oh, I did. I even had a sister, until this morning."
"Oh my God! What happened to her?"
"She was fucked this morning and last night by my boyfriend. Sorry. My ex-boyfriend, Mike."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"So am I but, as someone says, that's water under the bridge. Time to move on."
"Is that where you were going this morning, moving on?"
"No. I was on my way to the harbor so I could drown myself."
"But..."
"But what?"
"Well, you looked so confident as you walked towards me. You looked like someone who has their life together."
"That may be what you saw but that wasn't and isn't me. I have a dress, the heels I was wearing and a purse with about sixty-five dollars in it. Now I have no dress, no heels, twenty pounds of plaster on my legs and the doctor says I need to be off my feet for six to eight weeks." She took a big breath, "My life is shit."
"Where will you go?"
"My sixty-five dollars ought to get me to a dock in San Pedro. The casts ought to help me sink."
"That is not what you're going to do."
"Oh? What am I going to do? Use my sixty-five dollars to rent an apartment, buy food, and live off what's left for the next two months until the casts come off?" Her voice was strained.
"What about your real brother? Or your parents, friends, someone?"
"My parents haven't got anything more than twenty dollars and I can't ask them for anything. They tossed me out years ago. I don't have any other family and no friends. Mike didn't like the way men looked at me so we didn't go out. I worked in the office at his auto repair shop."
"Ok. Enough. I work hard at being positive and your story is bringing me down. I've got a better story."
"I really don't need your story."
"What I have is a story to replace yours. You were hit by a car this morning on your way to a new job. The owner of the car is going to buy you a new wardrobe and pay your hospital bills. The new job begins as soon as you are physically able to start and your new roommate will cover your rent and food until you get your first check."
"Great story. Too bad that's all it is."
"No, it's the truth. I have a business that needs someone to answer phones, do some light typing, the billings and filing. On your behalf I'll negotiate with the owner of the car so she gets you some clothes and pays the hospital bills. I live in a two bedroom condo so you can be my roommate until you start getting paid for working for me."
"I don't even know you."
"I don't know you either. Are you really so anxious to see the bottom of the harbor?"
"No." She closed her eyes and sat quietly for a long time. I stayed. I asked myself why I offered her so much. She was right, I didn't know her. What if she was one of those women who thought nothing of ripping off men for everything they could? If that was what she was, she had an odd way of getting suckers.
It just seemed like the right thing to do.
Doing the Right Thing
The next day she was discharged from the hospital and I took her to my place. Between offering her a job and getting her into my home I did some preparation so I reduced the risk of being ripped off. I put a limit on outgoing phone calls from my phone to calls within my area code only. I put all my credit card and checking information in the safe at my office. I put clean sheets on the bed in the spare bedroom and on my bed. I cleaned and vacuumed the entire place. I bought food and beverages to stock the kitchen. I bought a woman's robe and a nightgown that were pretty modest.
On the way home from the hospital Jennifer asked if I could stop and get her a couple of things. I asked what she needed, thinking I could tell her I had it at home. She said her period was due and she had nothing to use.
I stopped and got her what she asked for. I bought three boxes. I figured she was going to be off her feet for weeks, might as well be prepared.
At home I carried her into the house and got her comfortable on the couch. I made some tea and we talked. Not about much, just getting to know each other and logistical things about living together. Mobility was going to be a big issue for at least two weeks. Jennifer was to stay off her feet for the two weeks until her next appointment. That made getting to and from a bathroom difficult. We talked about possible solutions and some of the ideas we had were funny enough that we laughed. I said I would carry her to and from the bathroom. She blushed and said I could get a bucket and put kitty litter in it. I said I could move her bed next to the window and she could hang her butt out the window. We laughed at those ideas.
An hour later it was no longer a discussion, it was a need. I picked her up and took her into the bathroom. As I lowered her onto the commode she pulled the hospital gown out of the way. I left her for a couple of minutes until I heard the commode flush. When I came back I brought the nightgown and the robe. I had left the tags on the robe, in case I needed to take it back.
When Jennifer saw the robe she started to cry.
"Jennifer, why are you crying? Have I offended you?"
