The Trouble with Emily

Author's Note: This is the first part of a four-part story. If you are looking for a quickie "stroke and cum" story you might want to select something else to read. For those who enjoy plot and character development and a long build-up to a rousing conclusion, please feel free to follow along this special tale.

Mitchell couldn't remember exactly the first time he had seen Emily, but he could certainly remember the first time he noticed her. Sure, there was the first time they met but that hardly counts. He was so concerned that day with only the basic necessities, food, shelter, warmth, and his kids. The way he looked upon her then was far, far different from the way he looked at her now. Was it the day after her ... or was it the day before? But wait, I'm already jumping ahead of the story and really need to go back to the beginning. Let's start a little over a year ago, when it was almost fall and Mitchell was sitting on his backyard deck having a beer with his old friend, Stuart.

* * *

"So what are you going to do, Mitch?" Stuart asked calmly and rationally. "You've got a business trip coming up next month. You can't leave your kids home alone."

"I know ... I know," Mitchell replied with a resigned exasperation. He leaned his tall broad-shouldered frame forward and ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. It felt as if the there were a pair of 16-ton weights hanging on his shoulders. But his shoulders were broad and he squared them up immediately.

"So what are you going ..." Stuart began to say but was cut off abruptly.

"I KNOW!" Mitchell said sharply. "I'll come up with something. I always do. You know me. Mr. Resourceful." He looked over at his old friend long and hard. Stuart was shorter and younger and always livelier, but after all they had been through together, he was perhaps Mitchell's best friend. The weight of the past few months all seemed to be crashing down on him, the unexpected passing of his wife, Angela, the sorting out of all his feelings over that and many other previous issues with her, and then working through all the necessary details that ensued all too quickly. And his kids-Mitchell's teenaged daughter and 10-year-old son-needed help and attention every single day. Mitchell had just gotten to the point where he felt even just a little bit comfortable with his new life, the challenges, the fright, the uncertainties all inclusive. Sure he felt like he was clinging to the edge of a cliff most of the time, but at least he had a fighting chance and wasn't joining those who had lost their grip and were tumbling into the abyss. But now the near future was poking sharply into his hard fought comfort zone.

"Hey, I'm sorry, man," Stuart said, his apologetic feelings easily detected in the tone of his voice. "You always know that if you get stuck or anything, Allison and I can take them for a few days. They get along with our own brats pretty well. We can just toss them into a big pile and let 'em sort it out themselves."

"Nah, I couldn't impose on you guys ... we'll be fine. I'll find a sitter or something," Mitchell said with a big sigh. Somehow he had managed. He always did. Somehow things always got done, maybe not the way he might have preferred, but they got done just the same. "It's just that sometimes ... sometimes it's just all too much for me," he added with a sardonic laugh. "And I had always thought that I could do it all ... till now."

"We're here for you, man," Stuart replied, putting his arm around Mitchell's shoulders. "Anything, anytime."

"Thanks!" came Mitchell's reply. "Appreciate it!"

They had finished their beers and Mitchell walked his best friend through the house toward the front door. Stuart and Mitchell had been friends since just after college. Stuart's wife, Allison, and Mitchell's late wife, Angela, had become best friends for many years, and in the weeks since Angela had died, Allison had been a godsend, helping out with the kids, making sure that doctor's appointments and trips to the dentist were kept. But the time had come for Mitchell to stand on his own, and moved away from the shelter that his good friends had all too readily provided. Before leaving, Stuart paused on the front porch for a moment.

"Say, you remember John Dole from Cub Scouts, don't you?" Stuart asked.

"Yeah, I remember him."

"Well, remember when he and Carrie split up? They hired a nanny for the kids. Kind of follows the kids back and forth between their houses and looks after them. Maybe you could call him and check into that."

"Fuck! I can't afford something like that," Mitchell laughed. "Maybe when I make VP or something. But not now."

"I'm telling you, buddy. Remember that last one they had ... what was her name ... something exotic ... something like, Mary Doll ... Margie Doll ... something like that?"

"Sweet little blue-eyed brunette with the killer bod and sexy Danish accent?" Mitchell asked.

"Yeah, that's her," Stuart said with a laugh. "So you do remember her, eh?"

"Not at all!" Mitchell lied with some exaggeration. He easily remembered checking out Dole's nanny a few times at Scout meetings and feeling just a twinge of jealousy, but just a twinge. It wasn't like he was truly jealous because he knew that John wouldn't dare touch the hired help due to his divorce agreement.

Stuart punched Mitchell's shoulder sharply. "Go on! Call him, man. Maybe you can get someone short term. It's for your kids, dude. And it would give you a chance to get out once in a while and do something for yourself too. "

"I know, I know," Mitchell replied. "But that has got to be so expensive. I can't afford a fricking nanny, Stu."

"How do you know? Time's a wasting, Mitch," Stuart replied. The two friends leveled their eyes together. "Speaking about wasting time, how's your love life been treating you?"

"Love life? Ha! Like I have time for that."

"That's what I'm talking about, Mitch. You get yourself somebody in here to look after of the kids and you can start circulating again. Know what I mean?"

"I don't know, Stu. I'm not sure if I can start all over again. It's been so long ..."

"What's up with you, man? You've got a great opportunity here. You're single again, you've got a lot going for you, and as I remember you were pretty successful with the ladies back in the day."

"Right! When we were both twenty-somethings with nothing to lose and everything to gain. Nobody's going to want a used up old fart like me with a couple of kids hanging around."

"Suit yourself, Mitch," Stuart said. "Just don't sell yourself short. There's somebody out there for you. But you won't find out until you get out there and start looking. Hey, I've got to get going."

With a handshake and a brief goodbye, Stuart strutted down the front walk toward his Bimmer roadster and hopped in. Mitchell remained on the front porch for a long while after his friend had roared off. He lingered to watch the colors of the sunset glow along the horizon and took a deep breath. Red light at night, sailor's delight! The warm shading of the sunset cast a rosy glow over his neighborhood. It was a friendly place to live, an older Victorian era town with great schools, affable neighbors, and large roomy homes spaced comfortably apart. He needed to drink in as much of this good feeling as possible for he was so woefully unprepared for this single father lifestyle. Angela had always done everything with the kids, even after they had discovered her cancer, and even through all the chemo and alternative therapies, she had always done half of everything. It was only after she had died that Mitchell realized all of the things that she had always done and that now fell into his inadequate lap.

But Mitchell was determined to see this through. His kids came first in his life now; everything else would have to wait. He could do this. He would do this, no matter the circumstances or sacrifices. As he closed the front door and turned away, he heard the sound of his kids upstairs haggling over something ridiculously stupid. He quickly shifted gears into his single dad mode. "Ward Cleaver never had to deal with this," he said aloud to himself. "Where is June when I need her?"

Then he jumped up the stairs, sorted out this latest domestic squabble, and spent the rest of the evening first making sure things were set for the kids next day at school. It took another hour or so to review his presentation to an important client the next morning, and then ended the evening making lunches for all of them before falling into bed weary and worried. What the fuck am I gonna do next month? Angela was always there when I had to go away on business. I never gave a single second thought to it, he thought. Then he remembered what Stuart had said. Maybe he should call John Dole and see what that nanny business was all about.

* * *

The next day he called up John Dole just after lunch.

"Long time, no hear, Mitch," Dole said. "I was so sorry to hear about Angela. How are things going for you?"

"Well enough I guess," Mitchell replied. "But that's sort of why I was calling."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, with my job and the kids and the house and all it's hard to keep everything in the same sack," Mitchell remarked.

"You're telling me!" John exclaimed with a chuckle. "If it wasn't for our nanny, Ludmila, I don't know what I would do."

"How's that working out for you guys?" Mitchell asked with obvious interest.

"Great! She travels back and forth between Carrie's place and mine," Dole said. "Makes sure the kids get to and from school, do their homework, get to the doctors and dentist, the full nine yards. And she still has time for her own college work. Gives me a little time to have a social life too."

"So how does it work?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you advertise for her or what?"

"Hell, no. We went through an agency," Dole replied. "Actually Carrie is the one who arranges it. She does all the interviews and shit. You know, I think she picks the best looking ones just to tease me. I mean, she knows I could never screw around with the hired help, so she gets the choice ones just to spite me. Remember, Marjedahl from last year?"

"Do I ever!" Mitchell replied emphatically. "But that has to be pretty expensive."

"Not as much as you might think," Dole went on. "I'll tell you, we provide room, board, tuition and a little spending money." Dole paused for a moment and drew a breath. "So what's this about? You thinking of getting a girl yourself?"

"Well," said Mitchell slowly. "It's so hard to keep up with the kids and my career and everything else that's on the table. I was thinking ..."

"Tell you what, Mitch, I'll have Carrie get in touch with you, maybe email you the phone number of the agency we work with. I'm sure that you can work something out."

And John followed through, good guy that he is. Mitchell was surprised to hear Carrie's voice when she called the next day. She sounded excited.

"You'll just love having someone to help," Carrie remarked enthusiastically. "I don't know what I would do without Ludmila, the one we have now. She is such a great help. I can't imagine how you can do without someone, being a full time working parent like you."

"It hasn't been easy, let me tell you," Mitchell replied. "So what do I have to do?"

"I'll give you the number to call," Carrie began. "You have to fill out an application and go through an interview at your home with the kids and all. Then they line up the best fits and you get to pick the one you feel would be best."

"Sounds easy enough," Mitchell remarked.

"It works great," Carrie cooed. "I just love the girls that John and I have used over the years. And the kids like it too. In our case it sort of gives them a little continuity that's missing between the two of us."

It sounded appealing. Carrie gave him the number to call and Mitchell followed through that very afternoon. He filled out the form online and waited a few days to hear back. The agency called him in and by the time he was through, Mitchell had talked to nearly twenty different girls and women. There were some who seemed to have stepped right out of the pages of a Mary Poppins novel, all prim and proper and lacking only the fine British accent and the ability to fly. But they all seemed a little stuffy. There were some who were very young and very inexperienced. There were some who were foreign born. There were some who were very attractive, and from the way they eyed him, maybe a little too sexy to have hanging around the house.

Then there was Emily. She was very tall and quite trim, a recent college graduate with a degree in Preschool Education, currently working toward her Masters degree in developmental psychology. She was quite attractive, but not in the overtly sexual way that some of the other applicants had been. Her hair was a dark red almost chestnut in color, her eyes a dark bluish green, and her skin was lush and smooth. She came to the interview dressed conservatively and had the most endearing smile. But the moment that she met the kids was what clinched it in Mitchell's mind, the way her smile lit up and the way his kids took to her right away, especially his son Timothy who had been a little introverted every since his mother had died. Mitchell felt so relieved when he got home that he called up Stuart and John with the news. For the first time in several weeks he was able to take a drink out onto the deck and breathe a deep sigh of relief. He looked up at the glowing sunset and thought of Angela for a moment. Then he thought of what a godsend Emily would be.

* * *

Emily started two weeks later, giving her enough time to get settled and acclimated before Mitchell left for his business trip. She moved in on a Saturday and Mitchell showed her through the living areas of the house downstairs and led her to the bedrooms upstairs. At the head of the stairway, the hall went in two directions, to the left to his master bedroom suite and to the right to the bathrooms, the kids' rooms and the guest room.

"This is Kelly's room, the full bath, Timothy's room, and the spare bedroom I've made into an office for the kids' computer," Mitchell said, pointing them out as they went. "And this will be your room."

"This is really great!" Emily said with a big smile as she walked into her new room and looked around.

Other than his suite, it was the largest of the bedrooms in the house with its own private shower and a walk-in closet. They had kept it as a guest room, but with Kelly's help, Mitchell had done a quick makeover. Emily went quickly to the large window and looked out. From there, she had a nice view of the back yard, the deck and the swimming pool.

"You have a pool?" she squealed. "Oh, I love to swim!"

"You'll have plenty of chances before I close it down next month," Mitchell remarked. "In the nice weather, we practically live out there."

"I don't blame you. What a great yard!"

"Hope you like it," Mitchell said, pleased by her enthusiastic response.

He stood back as she looked through the room. It was furnished with an extra-large queen-sized bed, a wide dresser with a large mirror, a tall chest of drawers and a decent writing desk. Emily ran her hand over the light maple finish of the desk.

"There's a cable connection for television and computer," Mitchell added.

"All the conveniences of home!" Emily said. Her large blue-green eyes were sparkling. "Thank you so much for having me."

"Is this your first job?"

"My second," she said softly, her look seeming to indicate that there was a story behind her little confession, but one that they might talk about later. She looked up at him as if measuring his response.

"I really hope you like it here," Mitchell said. "We're glad-actually, I'm glad you're here."

"Thanks," Emily said with a grateful tone to her voice. Mitchell crossed his fingers and prayed that this would work out.

* * *

The changes in the household were dramatic and came almost overnight. On the first workday when Mitchell arrived home from work, the mouthwatering aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted him. The house was straightened up, the kids' homework was finished, and Emily was busy stirring what smelled like a Hollandaise sauce for the fresh asparagus that was steaming in the pot.

"Wow!" was the most imaginative thing he could think of saying. He wanted to say more but his head was whirling from the settled scene before him. There was that little bit of chaos around the edges, a backpack tossed aside, a schoolbook sitting on the kitchen counter, but otherwise the house was in great shape. But he didn't have the two-hour hurricane of homework and household chores awaiting him. "This is great! Really great!"

Mitchell and his children and Emily quickly shifted into a comfortable routine. Emily was great to have around and blended in perfectly. She would get the kids up and fed and off to school before leaving for her own classes. She'd make sure they got home in the afternoon and helped them finish their homework before cooking dinner. In the evening she would attend to her own studies, often chatting with friends on the phone or online. Three or four times a week she would take off to work out at a local gym. She liked to go shopping with her friends on Saturday or Sunday afternoons. On most Friday or Saturday nights she went out with her friends. Sunday was her free day and she usually spent it visiting her family.

She fit in so well, Mitchell grew used to having her around. They were able to divide up the household tasks and there was nothing that he asked Emily to do that she didn't do willingly. Where once the kids would hassle each other over the most trivial thing, they seemed to be getting along better. Kelly didn't seem to be as sullen and moody, and Timothy seemed to be brightening up and coming out of his shell. Their schoolwork was improving and Mitchell knew that it wasn't because of what he wasn't able to do, but because of what Emily was doing for them.

He loved watching her sit helping Timothy with his homework. She was so patient and helpful and understanding. Another time he saw Emily and Kelly sitting in the family room watching some MTV program, laughing and giggling like old friends. She fit in so well that he couldn't believe he had waited so long to get a nanny.

One evening, as he watched Emily take off in her cute little light blue VW bug convertible for her workout and later to meet up with some friends, he felt almost like it was watching his oldest daughter go out for the evening. Almost overnight, she had become a part of their family. Mitchell was so grateful that the cost of paying for her services didn't matter for he would gladly write out the checks.

* * *

Then there came a Friday evening when Mitchell was heading down the hall to Timothy's room and Emily's door was ajar. In passing by he caught a quick glimpse of her standing before the full-length mirror she had brought with her. She was dressed in only a tiny pair of pink bikini panties and was slipping into a light blue dress. He instantly felt his face grow warm and flushed and he quickly hustled down the hall to Timothy's room and threw himself into playing Bionicle's with his son. Mitchell felt unnerved by the quick little glimpse of Emily. He had become so used to her in the role of nanny that he hadn't realized what a sexy young woman she was. The doorbell rang a few minutes later and Mitchell headed down to answer it.

"That's probably for me," Emily called out from her room. "I'll bet that's my guy."

Mitchell remembered how earlier that evening, during dinner, she had mentioned something about her long-time boyfriend coming to town for the weekend. When Mitchell answered the door, a tall dark handsome guy stood there smiling.

"Mr. Gallagher? I'm Brian Morris," the young man said, extending his hand.