The House's Wife

Author's note: This is not a BTB. Hopefully this is a feel-good story you will enjoy. Thanks again to cvmawirenut for editing.

I, Trey Hanson, had been under a great deal of stress the last few months. It started with the shocking death of my wife of ten years in a single car auto accident when there was ice on the road. We had two small children. I tried my best to be strong for them. I wasn't doing a very good job of it. I was barely coping myself. I actually tried picturing who would take care of my kids if I committed suicide. I probably would have gone off the deep end if it hadn't been for the effect of my example on the kids. Besides being part of me, they were part of my wife. The only part still living.

From the moment I heard she had died, I had trouble going back to the house where we had lived so happily. There was no way I could sleep in the bed where my wife and I slept and made love. I hired one of her female friends to take her things away. Even driving down our street brought tears to my eyes. My desire to get away from the memory triggers was so strong, I went to my boss to see what my chances were to get a transfer to another city. He surprised me by immediately mentioning that his choice for the Sparta job had backed out at the last minute due to family issues. The man had resigned leaving my boss and the company in a bind. He said I could have that job if I could be there right away. Yesterday was not too soon. That suited me perfectly.

We moved as quickly as possible and I put the house up for sale. I presented the move to the kids as an exciting adventure we were going on. They were still assuming Mommy was coming with us. I said she was coming later. There was not much equity in the house, but I figured I should break even after paying closing costs. It was too quick of a move for me to consider buying a new house, so I found a nice house to rent as a temporary solution.

Besides furnishing and putting our stuff in the house, I was busy trying to find a baby-sitter/nanny for my kids while I worked. My children were put on a waiting list for a day care near our house. The neighbors were very welcoming to us and soon I had several recommendations for an all-day sitter. I interviewed three and selected Emily, a college student who still lived at home. She lived only a couple of blocks away. We set a rate of pay. Luckily, she was immediately available, because I needed her right-away. Most importantly, we worked out how she should respond to the kids asking about their mother.

I was behind in my new job before I even started. I was forced to go into work on my first Saturday in our new location just to help get me get caught up. I felt bad having to leave my kids with a stranger, but Emily seemed to take it in stride. I gave her extra money for treats to bribe good behavior.

I was almost totally exhausted when I came back to the house Saturday evening. As soon as I walked in the door, the odor of good food hit my nostrils. I had given Emily money for pizza, so I was surprised that the smell was not pizza. Emily making supper for me and the kids was above and beyond what I expected. I made a note to myself to tip her well tonight.

The kids came running up to me. They were excited. "Daddy, Momma Beverley is wonderful. She let us help make cookies. Here, taste one."

"Momma Beverley?" I wondered. My daughter was not giving me a choice about tasting the cookie. I took a bite ready to say it was wonderful no matter what it tasted like. It was fantastic. Chocolate chip, pecan -- my favorite. Now, what is this Momma Beverley stuff?

I went into the kitchen expecting to see Emily there. Instead, there was an attractive woman several years older than me busy making supper. She saw me and smiled, "Go relax, dinner will be ready soon." I was stunned.

"Where is Emily?"

"I sent her home, Mr. Hanson. There was no need for both of us to be here. Your children are so well behaved they have been no problem."

"Did something happen that Emily had to leave and ask you to cover for her?"

"No, Emily's fine. She's always been such a nice girl. She's going to be a doctor, you know."

"Excuse me, but who the heck are you and what are you doing in my house?"

She laughed. "I'm Beverley, the wife of the house." She said it like that settled the issue.

I began to worry. Some woman has come in and taken supervision of my children and I have no idea if she is a serial killer or what. I became a bit sarcastic. "I'm sorry, but I am renting this house from Alfred Wilson and I was not told that it came with a wife."

She looked at me sternly, "That just shows what you know. That damn Alfred. I don't know what got into him. I have given him the best years of my life and he just thinks he can dump me for some common trollop, and he gets to do whatever he pleases. Well, this is as much my house as his and I'm not leaving. I was wondering what I would do when I came back home and found out someone else was living here. Then I show up and what do I find: a ready-made family for me to be a part of."

"You're Alfred's wife?"

"He says I'm his ex-wife, but we've never signed anything that said I agreed with a final divorce. We're 'legally separated' although Alfred 'illegally' separated from me a long time ago. Not that I want to stay in the same time zone as that cheating philanderer."

"I'm sorry, but I'm having trouble grasping what is going on here."

She seemed exasperated, "Let me help you understand." She went and got her purse and pulled out her driver's license. It showed she was Beverley Wilson, and the address of this house was on the license. "Now, I bet you don't have a license that has this address on it, so one might say I have more proof I belong here than you."

"But . . . "

"Don't worry. I won't throw you and your adorable children out. We can talk about the details of where everyone sleeps later. Now go on about your business while I finish dinner."

I was in a trance walking into the living room. The kids quickly brought me back to consciousness. They were still excited about what they had been doing with Momma Beverley. As I was trying to figure out what to do next, we were called in to wash our hands for dinner.

Momma Beverley made us say grace before we ate. I was pleasantly surprised she mentioned my recent loss in a way not to upset the children. She had made roast with all the trimmings. It reminded me of my mother's roast from my childhood. This woman may be not all there mentally but, damn, she could cook. We all had a pleasant conversation at dinner. The kids talked about their day and I explained to Beverley about what I did for my job. She seemed sincerely interested and impressed. I avoided asking her anything about her. I had already decided what to do next and didn't want to add anything possibly volatile into the mix.

She refused my help in cleaning up the dishes from supper. To my great surprise, my kids offered to help because 'We know where everything goes, and she doesn't." She did mention the trash needing emptying. I took the hint. After I did that and replaced the bag, I went to my den/office and made the phone call I had planned to make earlier.

"Alfred, this is Trey Hanson. I have a problem with the house."

"I left you the numbers of plumbers and others. Just call the appropriate one and have them send me the bill."

"There's nothing physically wrong with the house per se. The problem is that I came home this evening to find your wife here. She basically is saying she goes with the house."

"Oh, shit! They were supposed to notify me before they let her out. I apologize. You may have figured out my now, but my ex-wife Beverley is crazy. I mean certifiably, bonkers mentally ill. She is . . . "

"Alfred, she sent my sitter away and spent most of the day alone with my kids. Damnit Alfred, you should have said something about her. YOU put my kids in danger!"

"No, no, no. Your kids weren't in any danger from her. She's not violent even when she goes off the deep end. In fact, she's great with kids. I'm afraid the shock of the divorce has put her in a constant state of delusion. She knows on one hand we are not together anymore, but she thinks she still gets to live in our old house. Hang tight. I'll call the Sheriff's Office as soon as we hang up and have someone come out and get her. Then I'll see about a restraining order. I'm really sorry."

Whew! What a relief. I felt better after hearing what Alfred would do. I was too anxious to sit and wait so I paced the floors around the house. I quickly realized that the downstairs had been cleaned and straightened up. It didn't look like we were still in chaotic moving mode. Beverley came in to where I was standing and evidently knew what I was thinking.

"I put the empty boxes in the shed. I had to go in there to get my old stuff anyway."

"Pardon?"

"Alfred put my stuff in the shed until I could tell him what to do with it. I tried to tell him to just leave it in my room, but he just had to remove all traces of me while I was out of the house. And in case you were wondering, my room is what was once the guestroom. I left the master bedroom years ago. Snores and whores caused me to sleep apart from that bastard, excuse my French." She changed subjects quickly. I get up early every morning, so I'll try to be quiet when I get up to make coffee and breakfast. Mr. Hanson, is there anything special you or the kids want for Sunday breakfast and what time do you wish it be ready?"

"Beverley, I really appreciate what you have done today for me and the kids. You've been great, but don't you think people might talk about you living here with a younger unmarried man?"

"I hope they do! And I'm not that much older than you and I'm in great shape. I've noticed my age hasn't kept you from admiring my breasts. Anyway, some of the neighbors probably think there's something wrong with me and that's what caused my husband to leave me. Now, most of the people who live close around here are my friends. They understood about me and Alfred and they will understand about us. It's clear to anyone who knows your situation that you need a substitute mother for your children at least temporarily. I'd say it wouldn't hurt to have a substitute wife either. Not many people get such a deal as to have a house already furnished with a mother and a wife."

Although her expressed willingness to be a substitute wife scared me, I didn't want to challenge her delusion. I've heard that can be dangerous to do with a mentally ill person. In spite of what Alfred had told me, I still wondered how safe it was for the kids or me to be around her. I also was certain I didn't want to pursue what all she might mean by being my substitute wife even though I admit she had a great set of tits. I went upstairs and looked into the guest bedroom. It had gone from a room with a bedframe and mattresses with an empty dresser to almost fully furnished and decorated. I saw the closet full of her clothes. I went into the master bedroom. All my personal stuff had been put away neatly. I stood in lost amazement.

My dark haze was lifted when I received a call on my cell phone. It was Emily. "Hi Mr. Hanson. I just wanted to touch base with you. I am so happy that you have Mrs. Wilson living with you. She was sort of the Neighborhood Mom when I was growing up. Everyone was glad to see her back. She's fantastic with kids and is a great homemaker."

"Emily, I am curious what she told you about her being here. I don't really know anything about her except what her ex-husband and you have told me about her. Emily, she seems to think she gets to stay in the house and that I'm supposed to be okay with that."

"Mr. Hanson, after all she put into that house and her family over the years, I don't blame her. The poor lady was treated so badly by her husband. No one was sorry to see him go. He had her put into an insane asylum for god's sake. Anyway, you could not ask for a better cook and housekeeper. You're lucky to have her. In my opinion, you should try to work something out with her."

"Aren't you mad for her taking your job away today? I assumed you needed the money."

"It would have been nice, but I would much rather see her back again. Seeing her brought back a lot of good memories. In fact, as soon as I saw her, I couldn't resist. I was the one who asked her to make some of her famous cookies. I've already eaten the ones she gave me. So much for my diet. I'll have to work out extra for indulging myself though. Look, I need to go. I've got a date. Bye and good luck. Give my love to your kids. I would still like to babysit sometime."

Before I had a chance to absorb the conversation with Emily, the doorbell rang. I went to the door and saw a couple of Sherriff deputies. I invited them in. They waited until I called Beverley into the living room. She actually seemed pleased to see them. I took the kids to their bedrooms to help them put away more stuff and to avoid what might be an unpleasant confrontation between the deputies and Beverley. I waited until I heard the cars pull away from the house before going downstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, I could see Beverley finishing up drying and putting away the dishes. She acted like nothing significant had happened. I tried to be careful. I asked her what the deputies had wanted.

"Tommy is the nicest boy. He once dated my daughter in high school. He was sent here on a fool's errand. Alfred tried to get me taken away again. I showed him my discharge from the loony bin that said I am not a danger to myself or others and was released on my own recognizance. Tommy said that my husband said I was trespassing. I went and got my papers. The house is in both our names. He had no right to rent it out without my permission. Right now, ownership of the house is still in contention in the so-called divorce. We've fought back and forth so long, neither one of us can afford the attorneys to resolve the issue finally. Technically, I have as much right to ask you to leave as Alfred had to rent it to you."

"I guess I should look for another place to live then."

"Nonsense. I fell in love immediately with your children. They need a mother, and you need a housekeeper at the very least. We can work on what other duties I might perform later. You're not a bad looking man, you know. Why don't we just play it by ear for a while? You don't want to uproot the kids again so soon, do you? Think of them."

A live-in nanny? That makes sense. But a live-in mentally ill nanny who seems to be amenable to jumping my bones? That worried me. It was now bedtime. I took some sleep-aid pills and went to bed. Beverley tucked the children into their bed. They wanted her to read books to them rather than me.

I got up Sunday morning to see my kids at the breakfast table wolfing down pancakes and bacon. Beverley said mine would be ready in a minute. I got a cup of coffee and sat down. "Beverley. This is not my usual coffee. It tastes better. What brand is it?"

"Sircoff. It comes from Costa Rica. I found some bags when I got my things from the shed. I order it from a mission program I have visited and worked at before. They sell the coffee to help support the work of the mission. The best thing about this coffee is that it can be brewed as strong as you want it and it never leaves a bitter taste. I'm glad you like it. There's only one place in the states you can order it from."

"It must be expensive. Let me pay you back."

"Nonsense. I like to drink it too. Just think of it as being part of my contribution to our new blended family."

I almost choked when she said OUR family. "Beverley, when the kids are finished, we need to talk."

She got a sad look on her face. "That's what Alfred said before he had me committed."

"No. I just want to talk about the arrangement here."

Beverley brightened up. "Thank you, Trey. May I call you Trey?" I nodded. "I guess we do need to get some rules set. I have some ways you might find strange." I didn't doubt that.

The kids went to watch cartoons. It took a while before the kids and Beverley reached a compromise on the one they wanted to watch versus the one Beverley thought was appropriate, i.e., one where the parents weren't portrayed as total idiots. If you haven't seen kids' cartoons lately, you might be surprised how few of those have parents of average intelligence.

We went into the kitchen with our coffee cups refilled and talked. Beverley wanted to go first. "Trey, although this is my house and I could ask you and the kids to leave, that is the last thing I would want to do to them and you. I have terms to propose to you and then you can ask questions.

"I want to live here without paying for rent, utilities or food. In exchange, I will care for the children, do the laundry, clean the house, grocery shop and cook the food. I will need an allowance for buying the food. If I go shopping with the kids for clothes, I would expect you to give me money for that also. It would probably be easiest if you gave me a credit card for those things and pay the bill off each month."

"That seems fair."

"Wait, I'm not through. This is difficult for me to talk about since we haven't known each other very long. Part of the problem I had with Alfred was sex. He went after other women because he said I was not enthusiastic enough in bed. I told him that my having a lousy lover like him made it difficult for me to be enthusiastic. Of course, the women he was with instead of me pretended they were enthusiastic -- but that was what he was paying them for, for goodness sake! I suggested he start paying me to faking excitement. We never had sex again after that talk.

"Trey, even though I am somewhat older than you, my libido is greater now than it was when I was younger. It's been a long time since I have had sex. I hope this doesn't upset you, but I would like to have intimate relations with you. I know I am older and have more wrinkles than women your age, but all the parts of me that can pleasure a man still work just fine. I hope you take the opportunity to find out. I don't think you will be disappointed.

"If you agree to this arrangement, sometimes I will want you to make love to me and sometimes I will just want to just have sex. I know this may be a shock to you, but I have a more specific proposition that might make it easier. Tonight, you and I will go to bed together and see what happens. I hope you will want me. If both of us dislike having sex, we can make a deal where I just stay her as homemaker and nanny. There will need to be an allowance for both of us to have dates with other people outside the house. If both of us like the sex, then we become a happy family. If this proposal is too off the wall for you, we can set a date by which you and the kids move out. I will be reasonable about giving you enough time. What do you say?"

I took a different look at Beverley. She was older but there were few wrinkles and her ample breasts only sagged a little. She was definitely attractive without having to add 'for her age' to the description. I was sorely tempted because I had not had sex with another woman since my wife died and my hand needed a break. I admit I had been very horny for several days, and what I could see of her body gave me an erection. I had to admit it: I needed and wanted relief. "Beverley, why don't we go to bed together tonight and see what develops naturally?"

"Okay."

My mind was a jumbled mess the rest of the day Sunday. We took the kids to a park and to a pizza parlor. The kids ran wild outside and were asleep in the car on the way home. Home -- were the kids going to have a 'home' again? I couldn't believe how easily they accepted Beverley into their lives. I know kids are resilient, but this was so quick after their mother's death.