The Summer House (9 page)
Authors: Lee Moore
Frustratingly enough, dreams of the summer house haunted me nightly. The days that followed signing up at Fantasy Inc. were rather anti-climactic. I hadn’t heard anything back from them, and I was starting to think the whole night was a drunken dream or fantasy.
Taking care of my mother wasn’t as bad as I had feared, and she was very mobile. She wanted somebody around in case she slipped or fell, hurting herself. Pretty easy stuff.
I talked to Jan daily, and she was as disappointed as I was that I hadn’t heard back, and I was feeling guilty about her using that card, spending that money. What was I thinking? I was some religious freak who’d had a slip of faith. Maybe I shouldn’t have blown off Michael, but Melinda’s description of Alex still gave me tingles. I knew he had to be older, but somehow I didn’t care. I’d gone though the “Catalog of Kink,” as many folks called it.
He was one of the guys who didn’t hold back; his pictures were un-blurred and right out there. Somehow, someway, I knew I was being pathetic for wanting somebody I’d never met, and furthermore, somebody who’d never met me.
It was about ten days after I signed up that Daddy answered a call and handed the phone off to me.
“Caroline, some doctor is on the phone for you,” he said, handing me the handset.
“Hello?”
“Is this Caroline Smith?” a voice with an Indian accent asked me.
“Yes, yes it is,” I told him, and I just knew it was Dr. Gupta, from the club.
“Can you please verify your social security number and driver’s license numbers, or come to the clinic where you recently signed up?” he said, deliberately vague.
“Yes, hold on a moment, let me get my purse,” I told him, going to my bedroom. A stab of fear went through me. If the physical was clear [?] I wouldn’t be getting a phone call, would I?
I finally found my driver’s license and read him off the numbers, and gave him my social security number from memory.
“Good, thank you. Now are you on a phone where we can talk frankly?”
“Oh my God, something’s wrong, isn’t it?” The fear was in my voice, right out there.
“Oh, nothing wrong so much, but there’s a delicate condition that I felt you might not be aware of, and it may affect your decision to pursue your membership here.”
My heart dropped, and I fought back a sob. A condition?
“What’s wrong, Doctor?”
“Well, on your checklist, we asked if you are pregnant and you said no, but the testing we ran shows that you are. I felt that if you didn’t know this when you signed up perhaps you were unaware.”
“Pregnant? Are you sure?” I asked him in a shocked voice.
“Oh yes, very sure.”
Of all the things that worried me, this one wasn’t even on my radar. Cancer, an STD from Derek and Daniel, a skin condition, anything but that; but if I’d had more than a few seconds to consider what it was, I might have thought of it. Silently, I wept, trying to slow my breathing while the doctor waited patiently on the other end.
“If you didn’t already know, I apologize for your finding out this way, but depending on your last sexual encounter…”
“It was about three weeks back, when I was up at the summer house,” I told him, trying not to sob out loud.
“Yes, so it is a certain thing,” he told me softly.
I thanked him and hung up the phone, wiping my eyes. Standing there in my doorway was my mother, her face stony, her skin ashen.
“You slut, you went up to the summer house for some sort of ‘rendezvous,’” she told me, using her fingers to sarcastically make quote marks in the air.
“Mother…” I told her, letting the sobs out. It was too much, the revelation and my mother’s anger.
“I always knew you’d end up like this. The moment I let your father talk me out of something, you go and wind up pregnant. What am I going to tell the ladies at the church? It’s bad enough that you’ve refused to go for years. The scandal this will bring down upon us,” she ranted.
“Get out of my room,” I tried to tell her loudly, but my voice cracked. She walked over and grabbed me by the hair, dragging me to the mirror on top of the dresser.
“Not until you look in that mirror, and see yourself for what you are. Slut, whore, harlot. Do you even know the baby’s father’s name?”
“Mother, let go,” I said, struggling, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see my dad in the doorway with a shocked expression on his face.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded.
“Your slut of a daughter is pregnant, probably from when you let her go up to the summer house,” she said, shoving me towards my dad, strands of my hair still stuck in her fist as I stumbled his way.
“Is this true, Caroline?” He asked me solemnly.
“Yes, Dad, I’m pregnant,” I told him.
“Who’s the baby’s father?” he asked, probably with visions of a shotgun wedding forming in his mind.
“It doesn’t matter, they’re both gone,” I told him, and trust me, I didn’t think to let that slip out, because my father flinched away from me.
“They? As in plural? What the hell has gotten into you?” he asked me.
Crying, I ran to my car, ignoring their shouts. I was backing out of the driveway when the cell phone buzzed, and I fished it out. I was going to send my mother to voicemail when I saw it wasn’t them trying to call me back in, it was Janice.
I tried to answer the phone, but a sob escaped instead.
“Caroline, is everything OK?”
“Jan, can I come over?” I asked her, praying she was home.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she told me.
“OK, it’ll take me longer than that to get there,” I told her, mentally calculating traffic and distance. I figured I had thirty minutes.
“What’s going on, is it your parents?”
“No, the doctor called me from the club,” I told her, wiping tears and mascara out of my eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m pregnant,” I told her.
Later that evening, we were both cuddled on the couch under a blanket and we sat and talked long into the night. Once I got over the shock, I was actually calmer about it than I had any right to be. We talked about trying to get hold of Daniel and Derek, but when we tried their satellite phone, nothing went through. I thought it was worth a shot, and I vowed to myself to tell them somehow, someday.
“Do you want to stay here with me for a while?”
“If you don’t mind, Jan; things got ugly with my parents.”
“That’ll be great. Does finding out you’re pregnant change how you feel about things?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to lay some profound, come-to-Jesus type of guilt trip on me?”
I laughed; it just hit me funny for some reason. “No, if anything, I keep thinking of that old joke.”
“Which one?”
“The difference between a light bulb and a pregnant girl.”
“OK, what’s the difference?”
“You can unscrew the light bulb,” I told her, almost sobbing and laughing with the same breath. My emotions were all over the board, though.
“You know, being pregnant may actually get you laid more,” she told me with a grin.
“Who’s going to want to fuck me when my belly is out to here?” I motioned.
“Quite a few guys, actually, but you probably have months and months before that’s even an issue. Just like your lame joke, and it was lame, you can’t get pregnant twice, so you can literally pick anything out you want…”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
She whispered in my ear, and I could feel myself getting hot.
“People do that?”
“It’s called a gang bang, my god, can you imagine ten to twelve guys having you in whatever way they wanted, and not having to worry if they come too quickly?”
I shivered with the thought, and remembered what it felt like when each of the boys painted me inside. I could remember the feel of their shuddering cocks, pumping me full of their hot semen.
“Looks like you do like that idea,” she said, her hand brushing across my chest. I crossed my arms as another shiver went through me.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Jan, I’m not against the idea, but we’ve been friends forever. I’m not sure if…”
“Oh, it’s OK. When you’re ready, though, I want a chance, that’s all.,” she said, putting her head on my shoulder, taking my hand in hers under the blanket.
“If things change, you’ll be the first to know,” I told her, kissing her hair, and leaned back thinking about what she told me.
We sat like that for a while, not speaking, and Janice started telling me about the next party that was coming up at the club. All I had to do was call Melinda, get my phone set up, and if I wanted, sign up to be a party feature. Use my step three right out of the gate. We talked about it late into the night, and she pulled out a flier she had picked up the last time we had been there.
In the morning, I called Fantasy Inc.
“Hello, this is Melinda,” she told me, her voice sounding relaxed and fresh.
“Hi, it’s Caroline Smith,” I told her “I was wondering if…”
“Hon, you can cancel and get most of it refunded if that’s what you’re asking about.”
“No, no, not at all. I think I want to take advantage of the situation, as a matter of fact,” I told her, smiling.
“Oh?”
“Yes, can we make an appointment? I need to get my phone set up, and I wanted to sign up for a feature at the Halloween bash.”
“Sure, I’m actually free this morning.”
“Great, I’ll see you in a little while.”
“You’re not signing up for the Furry Hunt, are you?”
“No, I kind of wanted something… a little more naughty,” I said, feeling wondrously wicked.
“Which one?”
“The Witch Hunt,” I told her.
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Note from the Author :
Writing a prequel was a lot more difficult than I thought. The story leads into “Witch Hunt”, and after that, “Billionaire’s Bad Girls,” for those who are following the serials by character instead of order written. As always, thanks for reading!
I write part time, while being all domestic with a house full of kids. Many of the stories I write had the idea started from something that happened to me in real life. Then I think about different ways things could have gone. Active imagination, I guess…
Just don’t tell my significant other how the bills are suddenly getting paid (Kidding). Sign up for my mailing list here:
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Enjoy!
Lee
Other books by Lee Moore
The Gardeners Series
Family Values Bundle Books 1-3
Fantasy Incorporated Series & Side stories
Fantasy Inc. – An Alex Johnson Short
Fantasy Massage – An Alex Johnson Short
Fantasy Inc. Halloween Special – Witch Hunt – A Caroline Smith Short
Billionaire’s Bad Girls – A Caroline Smith Short
The Summer House – A Caroline Smith Prequel