This is my second submission but was in fact the first story I wrote. It once again takes place in the USA so any cross-cultural mistakes I will apologise for now in advance. This story is also linked marginally to another story I have written that I need to edit. I am not too confident about this one but would regret not publishing it.
After plenty of good advice from my first submission I have another one that should be ready shortly, but one based in the UK. I have not managed to find an editor as yet and seeing as this was all ready to publish I thought why not?
This story does contain sex and all characters involved are over 18.
My name is Erica Miller and this is my story.
I was raised into a good Christian household and we had certain moral standards we were expected to meet and keep. Charity and understanding were drilled into us from an early age. This pretty much shaped my life and through school I made good friends and I am proud to admit that I was pretty popular amongst my peers. My education took precedence over boys but I was pursued by boys all through school and college. However sex before marriage was a no go.
I got accepted onto a social work degree course at a local Christian college here in Kentucky. I loved college life and blossomed both physically and emotionally. I stand at 5 foot 7 and my once sporty figure has given way to a few curves in the right places, if you know what I mean. I am happy that my c-cup boobs have managed to stay where they were in college 20 years ago. I still exercise daily to work off that good old Southern cuisine. My blonde hair is a lot shorter now but people often comment that I do not look like a 38-year old mother of two teenagers.
Just before I graduated I met a wonderful local man called David who was everything I wanted in a man and although he was 8 years my senior he was already high up in a local church. A year later I gave birth to Noah, followed a year later by Grace. They are the most beautiful children you could ever wish to meet, but I guess all parents say that about their children.
My life is now one of wife and mother, which is the same for many of my friends so I never feel like I am missing out on anything. I know there are women my age off doing all kinds of other things in the world but I am more than content. Also being married to a local pastor gives me a certain amount of respect in the community. We live in a nice home, we have everything we need and everyone loves David.
In public we are the perfect family but privately David is a strict Christian, even more than I am. He always wanted to be someone the community could look up to and trust. This usually means that I am required to dress conservatively and be supportive of him at all times. It is a little suffocating at times as I did not have my own job and my life was the home and church. I know he loves me more than anything, well, except maybe God.
A couple of years ago we had the opportunity to move to a bigger church with a larger congregation. It meant a bigger house, more money and the location was much closer to David's family. With Noah just about to start high school it was perfect timing.
David's mum Dolly and his father Mike were amazing people who retired early and have a beautiful home in the suburbs. One of the advantages of living so close to them now is that they want to spend a lot of time with our children. They go fishing, shopping and Grace especially loves baking with Dolly. This also gave me some free time to help David settle into his new job. His parents are far more relaxed than David and they often make little comments to him to lighten up and stop being so strict on his family.
The best part of working more at the church was that I could engage with people, I missed not seeing my friends and family everyday but I loved to help people. One day I suggested to David that I should finally put my social work education to good use and organise counselling sessions at the church, I would focus on a range of issues facing local people. This would also help to bring attention to our church and increase our reputation, whilst actually helping people in need. I would focus on drug issues, mental health and poverty for example. David actually loved the idea and soon enough I started the sessions with a good uptake in participation.
It was during one of my sessions that I met Rachel Moore, a middle aged African-American woman who approached me and introduced herself. She was a social worker for the department of social services, responsible for both child and adult welfare, especially those who had just left prison or recovering from alcohol and substance abuse. Our conversation ended with a job offer. I would assist her for 6 months and then become a full-time case worker. After a long conversation with David and the full support of his family I accepted the job.
*************************
Monday morning I rose early and spent a little too much time in the bathroom getting ready. I opted for a conservative looking pants suit. I made my way downstairs to make breakfast for the family. My nerves meant I only managed to consume half a cup of coffee before leaving the house.
The office building was bright and airy and after clearing security I found Rachel.
"This is home base," She said with a huge smile on her face.
Her energy was amazing and her demeanour always so positive.
Rachel was a mid-forties woman with bright brown eyes that when trained on you had a steely feel of strength. I knew she could probably get anything she wanted just by looking at people in the right, or wrong way. She was very attractive and though shorter then me and had a bit of weight on her bones her face was perfectly cute.
Later that afternoon I was up to speed on all the terms, conditions and expectations. Finally I was ready to go out into the field.
"Have a look at this file Erica," Rachel said.
She handed me the file without taking her eyes off the road.
"They live in a trailer park, a pretty run down place and they are both alcohol abusers with their kids in and out of care. I'll deal with them and you just sit back and take notes."
I started to read through the file as Rachel was talking to me.
"To be honest I don't think you're going to take 6 months to get this but for now just observe because it may be a little uncomfortable," Rachel explained.
I looked up from my reading and smiled at her. My heart lifted to hear her have such confidence in me after just a few hours together.
We arrived at the entrance to a rundown park. The front yard's, or what there was of it, were covered with children's toys, broken furniture and some even had old cars with missing parts sprawled out all over the place. Laundry was left drying on makeshift lines. My heart sank as I realised just how lucky I was and I couldn't help but imagine what the life stories were of the people living here. I never judge people and I knew many never had a chance in life and probably came from bad situations.
We pulled up to number 28 and I noticed a battered old truck outside and a smaller vehicle parked alongside. Their yard had a wooden bench and a couple of garden chairs with a cigarette filled plastic container sitting in the middle of the grassed area. There was an overfilled trash can and I took a mental note of the empty whisky bottle sitting atop the trash.
This is the home of Reed Wilson and his girlfriend Peggy. Reed is 40 and Peggy is only 34 and both are convicted felons with histories of mainly misdemeanour charges. Their two children are Darryl aged 3 and Chance aged 1. Both children have at times been taken away from them but 3 months ago they regained custody. Our job was to ensure that they are keeping to the rules set by us and the courts.
We never got a chance to knock as the door flew open and there stood Reed with Peggy clearly visible in the back tidying up the home. Reed was a skinny man with a sunken chest and his body was covered in cheap and poorly designed tattoos. He had a face full of stubble that did nothing to hide his yellow teeth. His greasy hair fell down to his shoulders and standing over 6 feet tall he had an angry looking face that made him look like he was permanently sucking on a lemon.
