I was born into a family of mobsters. My father was a powerful crime lord until he got "retired" by a rival Family, at which point my uncle took over the business. The rival Family in question was utterly destroyed within six months, and no one in the area had the courage (or stupidity) to challenge my family's stranglehold on the area again.
I wanted no part of that life. I wasn't about to rat out my family, I just wanted away from it. Since I had four siblings and eight cousins, the younger generation was well represented and there would be plenty of people to run the business when the older generation was no longer around. I was given 5 million dollars and told to disappear somewhere remote and never come back to the big city again, if I really wanted to drop out. I thought that was fair, said goodbye to the family and the rest of the Family, was wished good luck in my life, and headed for a dying mining town in the Midwest.
As a mild precaution, I legally changed my name. I didn't think any of the Family's rivals would come after me - or even be able to find me if they wanted to - but it never hurt to be sure. Unlike one Todd Allan Corbett, who legally changed his name to Heywood Jablowme back in the late 90's, I changed mine to something sensible. So at age 26, I was now officially Frank Joseph Brenner.
I purchased a small (one-bedroom, two bath) house, moved my stuff in, and explored the town a bit. The mine had closed a year ago and a goodly number of people had been thrown out of work. Some discreet inquiries revealed that it wasn't a case of mismanagement or corporate greed: the mine had simply been played out. There was no more metal ore. The local businesses took in who they could, but the town's population was only about 5,000 people, so there were only so many available jobs. Very few people in the town had more than a high school education. They couldn't afford to send their kids to college just like their parents hadn't been able to send them to college. One girl in town, a 20-year-old named Mae, had been able to go thanks to some obscure scholarship, but was unprepared and had flamed out during her third semester. In fact, she was coming back tonight.
"How does someone from a dying mining town get a scholarship to college?"
"She got it because she's an orphan. A month before she graduated high school, both her parents died in a car crash."
"So if her parents are gone, where is she going to stay when she gets here?"
I was glad I asked that question. No one seemed to have a good answer for it.
"She can stay with me," I said, once it was determined that there wasn't any obvious spot for her to go.
"Trying to make a good impression on us, are you?"
"Trying to be a decent human being and do the right thing."
"None of us have enough money to do the right thing. We have to be pragmatic and do the required thing."
I understood that. My grandfather had told me stories of how his father came over on a small boat, traveling in steerage, and arrived penniless in New York City, a stranger in a strange land. He had to do whatever it took in order to survive. He couldn't afford to be ethical. And that is how our family ended up in the profession of "criminal". We had worked our way to the top of that profession.
When she arrived, Mae proved to be a rather bland-looking woman. She wasn't skinny, but she wasn't obese either. A bit chunky, perhaps, but not as wide as she was tall. Her shirt, which was unbuttoned just enough to show a slight hint of cleavage, revealed that she wasn't particularly busty. (I later confirmed that her breasts were in between a B cup and a C cup.) She had straight brown shoulder-length hair, brown eyes, and carried a small suitcase and a backpack. Her skin was light-colored, but not albino. Just your average 20-year-old Caucasian female, with no attention-drawing features.
One of the townspeople introduced her to me and explained that I had volunteered to take her in. She politely thanked me, and we went back to my place.
I didn't tell her the details of my past, but I mentioned that I was financially comfortable and wanted to live away from the big city. She appreciated that, saying that having tried the big city while she was at college, she was happy to be back home.
"We'll have to share the bed," I pointed out. "But I promise not to do anything you don't want me to."
Mae giggled. "I've never actually `done anything' other than a kiss."
We got her settled and her possessions put away, then I changed into my sleeping outfit (topless, wearing sweatpants and underwear) and got in the bed. Mae's sleeping gear was a full-length nightgown. She was a few inches shorter than me (I'm a full six feet tall), so it was natural for her to curl against me and rest her head on my chest as we fell asleep.
When we woke the next morning, I asked Mae if she had any definite plans for when she got back.
"Nope," she informed me. "I figured I'd need to get a job, but with you here..."
"Neither of us needs to work," I confirmed.
After we ate breakfast, we decided to cuddle on the couch and watch a couple of movies. We were still in our sleeping-wear, having seen no reason to change out of it. I casually held Mae in my arms as she rested her head on my chest. The movies were enjoyable.
Mae helped me prepare lunch, and we ate it standing up. Then we both made a quick pit stop.
