A Call From Mom Started It All

CHAPTER 1

I hated getting calls from my mother. She was rarely sober and usually had a rambling sob story about what a cad her last husband is. This time she was bawling, and I could hardly understand her. “Honey,” she bawled, “I need your help.” My heart sank in my chest; just what I needed, problem solving for my mother. Sometimes I wished that we lived in another country.

“They’re making me go to some clinic for rehab,” she bitched.

“Rehab? Mother, what do you mean?”

“I was stopped for a DUI and the judge is ordering me to rehab,” she explained, making it sound like it was the judge’s fault.

“Thank God,” I thought to myself and then feigned concern. “I’m sorry mother.” My mother had been stopped at least twice before and the local municipal judge had only given her a slap on the wrist each time.

“It’s so unfair,” she continued. “That Judge Jefferson has had it out for me ever since I spurned his advances.”

“Mother, what advances?” I asked a little bewildered.

My mother was still very beautiful, and she attracted men like moths to a flame. Most of them flew away after being burned a couple of times, but a couple she’d married. Fortunately for her, she’d always picked wealthy men to marry, so now, after her third divorce, she had no money worries and lived in an exclusive area called Medina near Seattle.

“Honey, you have to come and take care of your brother,” she went on without answering my question.

I groaned inwardly. Ben was my half-brother, and he’d just turned sixteen. I’m ten years older than him and felt more like his babysitter than his big sister. I’d last seen him a year ago, and he had become distractingly good-looking for a boy his age. My mother was always complaining about the kids he hung out with. Of course, none of the trouble he’d gotten into was his fault, at least according to her.

“Okay mother,” I sighed. “When do you need me?”

“Tonight.”

“TONIGHT? You’re kidding right mother?” I exclaimed shrilly. “It’s a four-hour drive and it’s nearly five p.m. and the start of rush hour. I don’t have any clothes ready, and I haven’t eaten dinner. Why didn’t you call me before now?”

“Well, I have to report to this stupid clinic first thing tomorrow morning,” she whined.

“Mother, I’m sorry but I can’t leave on such short notice. I’ll head up right after work tomorrow.”

“Well, I supposed Ben can manage for one day,” she said doubtfully.

Before leaving work the next day, I told my boss that I had to take some emergency leave to take care of my little brother because my mother was going into the hospital. Just a little lie. Reluctantly he agreed after I promised to VPN to my office computer and work from Seattle.

I couldn’t leave until after six because my neighbor was out of town and couldn’t take care of my cat. I had to arrange to take her to a kitty care kennel and as soon as she saw me bring out the cat carrier she took off and hid. It took nearly an hour before I could get her out from under the bed without getting my hands shredded. Rush hour out of Portland was its usual awful mess, but at least I would miss the nearly perpetual traffic jam around Seattle when I got there.

CHAPTER 2

After I let myself in to mother’s house, I hollered for my brother but wasn’t surprised that the house was empty. I took my suitcase up to my old bedroom and debated whether or not to try to find out where he was, but I knew that he would show up sooner or later.

I realized that I’d better go make sure that there was food in the house and headed down to the kitchen where I found a note on the counter from Ben that said I could find him at the Bradshaw house, and would I please come and get him?

I’d babysat for Tommy Bradshaw and remember his parents as being super-rich snobs. Tommy had been a little spoiled brat, and I wondered how he was at sixteen. I’d always charged the Bradshaw’s twice my usual babysitting rate because I hated the way Mr. Bradshaw let his eyes roam up and down my body. When he drove me home, and before I got out of his car, he would hand me a twenty-dollar tip with his eyes on my flat chest. I often wondered how big of a tip I would have gotten if I’d let him kiss me.

The Bradshaw house is gated with a call box and a camera to gain entrance. From the gate you can’t see the house as it is nestled in the trees down by Lake Washington. I had no choice but to buzz the intercom to get in. I pressed the button and waited but there was no response. It was a warm, humid night and I could feel the sheen of perspiration on the exposed parts of my body which didn’t help with my dwindling patience. I kept buzzing until I heard a “Yeah,” with a bunch of music pounding in the background.

“I’m looking for Ben Martin,” I said.

“Who?”

“BEN MARTIN,” I said louder.

“Just a minute,” said the voice.

After a couple of minutes, I noticed the camera on the gate swivel and look down at me. “Wow!” came a new voice. “Are you the stripper?”

I stared at the camera with a disgusted look on my face. “No, I’m not a stripper; I’m Ben Martin’s sister.”

“You’re Ben’s sister? Wow, he told us that you were hot, but WOW!”

I assumed that this was coming from a sixteen-year-old and I was getting annoyed. “Are you Tommy?”

“Uh no. I’ll get him,” he said before I could just ask to be let through the gate.

And then I heard another male voice exclaim, “Oh my god.” Then I heard a buzzing sound, and the gate slowly began to open.

I drove up the driveway and got out of my car. I was met at the door by a pimply teenage boy. The distinctive odor of pot escaped through the open door. “Tommy?”

“Um, I go by Thomas now.”

“Okay Thomas, is Ben here?”

“Uh sure, he’s out by the pool with Bridgett and some other kids. I’ll take you to him.”

He was making furtive glances at me and I kind of wished that I had changed clothes before coming over. My white blouse was tied in a knot above my bellybutton and showed off my (now more mature) cleavage quite nicely; just allowing a glimpse of my lacy white bra. With my white shorts I was showing off more skin than was advisable considering my current audience. The air conditioning was going full blast and if felt the chill as it the perspiration evaporated on my skin. I shivered and felt my nipples harden. I had to fight the impulse to cross my arms in front of my chest.

As we walked by a table full of various, nearly empty bottles of alcohol he asked, “Say, would you like something to drink? We’ve got vodka, bourbon, you name it.” He seemed to be very proud of his resources. “But if you prefer weed, we’ve got some pretty cool stuff; and I could probably get you something stronger.”

“No thank Thomas, I’m good.” I started walking through the throng of young people in skimpy bathing suits, half who looked stoned as they danced rather obscenely to the loud music. Most of them turned their heads to look at me and a few boys nodded their heads approvingly.

A skinny teenage boy came up next to me and grabbed my ass. “Wow Thomas this is the best-looking hooker yet,” he hollered to be heard above the noise.

I pushed his hand away as Thomas interceded. “No Max, this is Ben’s sister.”

“Wow, really? Where’s Ben been hiding you? You’re fuckin beautiful,” the kid said, looking me up and down. His pupils were as big as saucers, and I wondered what he was high on.

I grabbed Thomas’s arm and said, “Let’s go find Ben.”

Out by the pool, Ben was standing with several young people and as soon as he saw me, he got a big grin and said, “Hey sis.” He turned to a young blond in a tiny bikini. “Bridgett, this is my older sister.”

The cute blond looked me up and down like I was something on the bottom of her shoe and mumbled, “Hi,” rather sullenly.

I smiled at the flat chested teen and wondered if Ben was bonking her.

“Bridgett, I gotta go,” said my little brother.