It was my wife's accident that started the ball rolling. She guessed that the amber would turn to red before she reached it and stopped. The guy behind her apparently thought he could make it while the light was only pink and stood on the accelerator. So Mary got rear-ended and pushed into the intersection. She also got a badly broken arm.
Mind you, what really upset Mary was that when she got pushed into the intersection the light was red and the red-light camera pinged her. The cops sent her a fine. She was quite vocal when she explained to them why it wasn't her fault and suggested that they look at the photo for themselves. She didn't let up until they withdrew the notice.
But that little to-do was subsequent to the main event. With a broken arm, Mary needed additional help around the house. I suggested that we hire a full-time live-in nanny for six weeks. The insurance would be paying for it, after all. Mary thought that was a great idea, and she knew just the person to hire. Her niece.
Samantha was Mary's elder sister's child. She was eighteen, quite pretty, nice figure, that she enjoyed showing off, and currently jobless, but looking.
My opinion of Samantha was that the reason she was looking for work was so that she'd know what places to avoid. I considered her intelligent but lazy, with the laziness encouraged by doting parents. I suggested to Mary that perhaps a professional would be more appropriate but she wasn't having a bar of it. Family came first and all that and Samantha could use the money.
We put the two youngest in together, and Samantha moved into the freed-up room. She quickly proved to be worth her weight in lead. Wrapped around your neck when you're trying to swim. I suggested to Mary that she have a word with Samantha, because if she didn't, I would.
Mary had that word and Samantha nodded and said she'd try harder. Personally, I didn't think she could be any more trying than she currently was. Now, with Samantha presumably trying to help around the house, chaos arose out of order. I decided to have my own gentle word with her. You know. Give her a hint in the right direction.
"Samantha," I said, smiling nicely. "You are proving as useful as a boil on the bum of a cyclist. Why don't you fuck off home and I'll get someone in who knows what the words 'help' and 'work' mean."
Samantha complained to her mother that I'd been rude, who promptly complained to Mary that I'd insulted darling Samantha and offended the poor girl, and Mary complained to me.
"I can't have offended her that much," I told Mary. "She's still here."
Mary suggested that I give her another go, because she was doing her best. (God forbid I ever see her worst.) She also suggested that I should go and apologise to Samantha.
"Samantha," I said, still smiling nicely, "Mary thinks that I might have upset you. Not my intention. I just wanted you to go away. Mary also thinks that we should give you another chance, so it appears that you get to stay. Now me, I think that if you go whining to your mother again, or if you don't pull your weight, or if you inconvenience Mary in any manner whatsoever, I'm going to get out a ping pong paddle and apply it to your bottom until you see things my way. Do we understand one another?"
Apparently we did, as Samantha didn't dare repeat that little conversation to her mother, and she did seem to start making an effort around the house. Not much of a one, but at least she was of some assistance.
Everything went fairly smoothly for the next couple of days. No problems until I got home from work, Friday evening. Mary was in the kitchen trying to get dinner for the kids, when she should have been in bed resting.
I hustled her back to bed, annoyed.
"Where the hell is Samantha?" I asked.
"I'm not sure," Mary told me. "She said she had to go out for a while around five, but I haven't seen her since."
"OK. You relax and watch TV. I'll fix dinner and I'll also check up on where Samantha is."
So I fixed dinner and loaded the dishwasher and bathed the kids and tucked them into bed. I also found time to ring Samantha's mother to ask if she knew where Samantha was. Oh, yes, she knew. Didn't I? Samantha had a date. That's where she was. After all, you can't expect Samantha to be there all the time.
The hell I couldn't. She was being paid to be here, and paid well. The times she was allowed off had been clearly spelt out and she'd agreed to them. Just shooting through was not playing the game.
I told Mary that Samantha had a date and had forgotten to tell us when she went. She wasn't to worry. I'd stay up and explain things to Samantha.
Things like common courtesy and doing the work you're paid for, but I didn't phrase it quite like that to Mary. Eventually I helped Mary to bed and settled down to watch some TV and wait for Samantha to get home. Come midnight I said the hell with it and went to bed myself.
A couple of hours later I was awakened. When you have small children in the house you tend to be tuned for unexpected noises at night and wake up when you hear them. This noise wasn't being caused by a small child, however.
I got up and stalked down to Samantha's bedroom. I didn't bother to knock, just opened the door and walked in. Samantha had taken off her dress and was standing there in panties and bra. She gave a squeak of protest when I just walked in, but I ignored that.
"Where the hell have you been," I demanded.
"None of your business," she said, getting all huffy. "You're not my father."
"No. I'm your employer and the deal plainly states what days you get off. Friday evening is not one of the nominated times and just getting up and going was thoughtless in the extreme."
"Oh, come on," Samantha protested. "You can't really expect me to stay home on a Friday night. Get real."
"Actually, I can, because that's what your contract says. You do remember the contract, don't you? We need to formalise the arrangement to ensure the insurance covered your salary."
"Well, yes, but surely you're not sticking to that silly thing."
"Yes. I am. That's why we wrote it. We're not unreasonable, though. If you had bothered to mention that you had a date, and asked for time off, we'd probably have agreed to let you go as soon as I got home. Not several hours before, leaving Mary to struggle alone."
I paused for a moment to let that sink in. From the look on her face Samantha considered that I was being unreasonable. I was about to become a lot more unreasonable.
"I believe I mentioned last time we had a little chat what would happen if you let me down," I observed. "Do you remember?"
From the way her eyes widened it was apparent that she did.
"You wouldn't dare," she said, barely breathing the words out.
"Oh, I'd dare alright," I assured her, "but I really can't be bothered having to wrestle you over my knee in the middle of the night, no matter how much I think you deserve it."
She looked relieved for a moment, but I hastened to kill that off.
"I'll give you a choice. You can quit, right here and now, and I'll run you home in the morning and get an adult to come and do the work. Alternatively, you can voluntarily bend over my knee and get your bottom paddled. I don't have a ping pong paddle with me so I'll have to use your hairbrush or my hand. That's another choice I'll let you make."
Samantha had very nice hair. She also had a very nice and expensive hair brush, said brush having a very wide flat back to it. I saw her give one look at the hairbrush and cringe.
Samantha wanted the money for the job. She did not want to quit. Neither did she want to get a spanking. I was indifferent. Either way was a win to me, although I think I'd rather that she quit. Still, it wouldn't be right to force her to when it might upset Mary. Seeing Samantha couldn't seem to decide on which was the lesser of two evils I gave her a hand.
