All participants are over 18 years old.
Please leave feedback.
My parents divorced when I was 10. I was shipped away to Switzerland when my father married the au pair, Johanna (he was 40 and she was 19) and my mother started hitting the bottle. I would see my father on holidays but I couldn't stand Johanna so the visits were always tension filled. My mother hates to fly so she never visited but always sent money and pictures of her new husbands and their big homes. After graduating, against all my instincts I moved to into my father and Johanna's house in Beverly Hills. He insisted that I come live with them until I started at NYU in the fall. He gave me a credit card and a new BMW convertible to make it worth my while. What wasn't worth it was Johanna and my father's idea of being a good father, which was to constantly nag about where I'd been and who I'd been with. After 2 weeks, I packed up my bags and drove to Houston, Texas. My mother had recently married her fifth husband, Calvin, a fifty something oil man worth millions. I had an address from a graduation check she sent so I drove straight to her. I wasn't sure if she would be happy to see me or not, but really it didn't matter. I just wanted to get out of Beverly Hills.
My mother's address led me to a gated compound. I could barely see the house from outside the gates. I rang the intercom from my car and announced my self. I drove up and my mother was standing on the front porch of a massive house with a tumbler in hand.
"Good lord girl, what brings you here?" She said as I got out of the car without a hint of familiarity.
"Hello mother," I said and we hugged like strangers. We were never particularly close, since she hates to fly, I'd only see her when I came to the states and for the past 8 years that was about 7 times. When I did see her, she was blissfully celebrating a new husband with champagne or mourning a divorce with gin. I'd been calling her mother as long as I could remember, never mommy or mama, always mother.
She didn't even bother to show me around the house, we walked through it to get to the back. She married Calvin about a 7 months ago when they met at some charity function for the Sons of Texas. He was loaded, born and bred in Texas, an oilman through and through. I saw their wedding picture on the piano in the foyer. He was wearing a gray suit and she had the audacity to wear a white dress at her fifth wedding.
She showed me to my room; actually it was a descent sized bungalow right off the pool. It was basically a large room with a sitting area, a king size bed, a fully stocked wet bar and a bathroom with a giant Jacuzzi.
"So how long you planning to stay darling?" She said watching me from doorway.
"Not long," I said without even looking at her.
"I'm going into town to have lunch with the girls. Claudia (the maid) will get you whatever you need. Calvin will be home by 7 and dinner is at 8." She turned around and left me there.
Not a bad place I thought as I layed on the giant bed. I unpacked and went into the house to snoop around. Upstairs was my mother's room. More pictures of her and Calvin, there was no signs that Calvin had any children but he did have toys. Cars, planes and boats. Mother had done well for herself. Calvin looked about mid-fifties. Not particularly handsome and a little paunchy. I guess millions of dollars can make anyone attractive.
I figured I'd take advantage of the amenities while I was here. I needed a swimsuit and Claudia pointed me to the local mall.
I had picked out a beige bikini ala Honey Ryder from Dr. No. I presented the credit card my father had given me but that was rejected. He must have been pissed that I took off. Thank god I took out a $1000 advance before I left: after gas, food and a night in a hotel on my way to Texas I had just enough for the swimsuit. I'll knock up my mother for some more when the time is right.
When I returned, my mother was still not home so I decided to take a dip in the pool. I had been swimming about an hour when I saw a man approaching from the house. I could tell from the pictures that it was Calvin. He came up close and stood at the end of the pool. He looked different than his picture; he looked slimmer and fit. I swam up to the edge.
"You must be the daughter," he said with a slight draw.
"Is that was she calls me? The daughter?" I climbed out. He put his glass down on the table and held out a towel for me. "My name is Tina. You must be husband number five."
