Please read the first three chapters of this story to understand the characters and their actions and motivations in this story.
Sally and I we met at our favorite restaurant that morning. She was letting herself go, no makeup, sloppy clothes, etc. All my work seemed to be out the window, her break up with her boyfriend hit her hard.
"I am sorry to drag you threw this Diana. I was hoping to copy your style, your presence, and your happiness in a relationship. I guess as far as my ex-boyfriend was concerned you were better at being you then I was."
I put my hand on Sally's and gently stroked it. I had to be more than a friend, I had to be her big sister, or mother.
"I am sorry that your idiotic boyfriend was attracted to me. Hell, I am getting so old now I did not dream anyone besides Roger would feel like that. But I want to help your try again Sally, please let me" and I ended my words with a soft smile.
Sally got up from the table and gave me a hug. We paid the bill and walked to our cars when she told me was going out of town from a month visit a friend. She promised to get herself together and we would pick things up when she got back. Sally hinted that she might still be opened to the two of us having a fling and I told her that my position had not changed. I knew she was very confused right now and needed support but I still had to be firm.
I then got in my car and went for my meeting with "the group" which I did not mention to Sally.
I did not feel comfortable telling her about it, this was a new world I was entering it and only Roger and I knew about it.
I went to the address I was e-mailed, a lobby of a hotel. I was told that I should look for a woman wearing a black pantsuit with a white scarf. I looked around and I quickly spotted her and our eyes met and there was a silent nod of acceptance between us. She called me be by screen name I had at "the group" and we shook hands and she suggested we go to the bar. The woman was about 30 or so and had an air of education and class about her. We spent a little under two hours talking, I was very hesitant at first to say much but with time I opened up about my relationship with my son. The woman who called herself Karen informed me that I had passed my interview and I should be accepted by the others. She asked if I could come to a meeting next week at a private residence and assured me that I would be happy with meeting many other women in my situation. I asked if she was a member of "the group" and Karen replied that she was not but a hired assistant to one of the main leaders who did the screening.
I agreed and we got up from our table and shook hands professionally again and I head back to my car. As I was opening the driver's side door it hit me that I might be making a big mistake following through with this. But I knew I had come this far and I needed to see it through not matter what happened. I thought to myself things had so changed, that night in the coffee house years ago was suppose to be a one night fling, I never dreamt it would go this far.
A week later I left work early and drove across town to the address given me. It was on the eastside of town and was in fact a full blown mansion. Somebody had money within this organization.
A servant greeted me at the door and escorted me to the living room. In there were a group of active middle age woman, dressed in a low key but professional manner. My modest one piece dress and sensible heels fit right in.
"Hi, welcome to my home. I am Alison" a striking beautiful woman with a very expensive blond hair style and cut said to me with a beaming smile. She was a few years old then me I guessed but not by much. Alison had certain warmness about her that I got a feeling that she grew up modest but had married into money but did not lose her roots or background.
"I am Diana; it is a pleasure to meet you." I thought what the heck, I might as well give my real name, I had come this far.
"Well Diana, please sit down. May I get you some coffee or tea? Is there any special way you like it?" playing the part of the super hostess the elegant blond asked me.
I told her my preferences and she handed me the drink that I wanted. The servant had been asked to do some work in another part of the house and the meeting started. As happens with so many other groups, everyone went one at a time with their introductions, saying their first name only and stating that they were sleeping with their sons and happy about it. They gave a brief history of how it happened and why I should not be ashamed. Alison was definitely in charge as she quietly guided the discussion. She asked me if I was ready to speak and suddenly I spilled my whole story, the original seduction of my son, building him up and the happiness we ended up finding but now the guilt I was beginning to feel. That is why I joined up with "the group" as I called it.
"Thank you Diana, I know that was hard to let out but you are among friends here. First off we call ourselves the" Hidden Doves", a clandestine low key name. It was found twenty years ago by a woman who has since passed away. She knew there needed to be an outlet for woman with our kind of lifestyle and I took over when she left us. I have the money and connections to guide it on a path of success. My husband fully supports what I am doing and no he is not the father of my son but does know what is going on in my bedroom. So tell me Diana, do you feel that you want to be a "Hidden Dove"?
I nodded my head yes and there was round of applause by all the others.
"Diana, you will find there is a good cross section here. Many of us can provide different services to you; it is a form of networking. I hope you have a good time with us" and with Alison's words everyone got up and started talking in smaller groups.
My new friend came over to me and gently put her arm across my shoulder. Alison asked that I accompany her into the next room and we walked together while I phrased the beauty of her home.
"Your story about the coffee house was interesting Diana. I cannot help but feel a connection to your seduction of your son while wearing white boots. Ironically my story is somewhat similar".
And Alison told me how she became a professional cheerleader for our local arena football team at the age of 43. Her son became obsessed with seeing her in the cheerleader outfit, wearing white go-go boots with tight short-shorts and black hose. I told her I sort of remember hearing about her story on the local TV at the time, though her hair was longer then. I did not know her at that time but I felt a certain pride for middle age woman when she did it.
