Reginald's Family
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2017 by Gordon Johnson

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Part three of the Reginald saga. Read "Reginald" and "Reginald's Wives" before you start on this continuation of the tale, so you know the story's development. There will also be a Part Four eventually.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Group Sex   Polygamy/Polyamory   Oriental Female   Slow  

“Hey! That makes sense. You have a good head on your shoulders, young man. Are you at the university?”

“I am, in my first year. My wi ... wife is also studying there.”

They moved indoors, out of the wind that was getting up. The farmer looked at Reg with a smile.

“Still having trouble saying the word ‘wife’, son? It makes you proud to have a wife, doesn’t it? I remember our own first few months as husband and wife: a magical time. Now we have a boy in the army and a daughter who is a policewoman. Neither of them is interested in farming, more’s the pity.”

“We hope to have a family eventually, sir, but I want my ... girl to finish her degree.”

“Good man; very sensible. Now, I have your details, but you should have ours too. I have some cards somewhere ... ah, here they are.” He swept up a small pile of printed cards from the desk near the farm front door, and peeled one off to hand it to Reg. “This even has our email address on it.”

“Fine. I’ll get Frances to handle that. I don’t do much email, myself.”

“I thought all you university types were email savvy!”

“To some extent, sir, but I didn’t have a computer until recently. My mother couldn’t afford it.”

“Really? How did you get into university, then? Isn’t it expensive, with the fees and all?”

“Grant aid, sir. My school helped, as did the university. My wife’s father owns the building we are now living in, so no residence costs. We can cope, with my wife’s allowance. I don’t cost much; never had any spare cash, so I’m used to not spending.”

“Well, son, I’ll see what we can do about your metal find. We’ll make a good deal for you, mark my words.”

“Thank you sir. Can I come back and do some more searching another time? It makes a nice break from studying, or my new family responsibilities.”

“She’s running you ragged already, son? If she’s that keen on sex, you have a keeper, my boy!”

“Uh, thank you sir. Frances is certainly a loving wife.”

“Right. Off you go home, young man, and tell your girl that you love her. That never does any harm.”

Reg did just that. He walked home and as soon as he was inside, called out in an “I love Lucy” voice, “Honey, I’m home!”

Not surprisingly, he got several immediate responses from the girls who were within earshot, and as they appeared, he told each one, “I love you, my darling wife.”

Finally, Fiona arrived with Prudence. Seeing them, He kissed Prudence, saying, “I love you, my darling wife.” then turned to Fiona. He hugged her to him, and said softly, “I love you too, my sweet. You are not forgotten.”

Frances finally spoke for all of them. “What brought that on, Reg?”

“My love, I was chatting to a local farmer, where I was detectoring, and he told me to go home to my wife and tell her that I loved her. I didn’t mention that I had more than one wife, though!”

Frances found this tale funny, and gave a chuckle, but ended up asking, “Did you find much rubbish with your machine?”

“A whole carrier bagful, Frances, but one lump looked like one or more coins, so the farmer is going to ask the local Finds man about it. It may have to be declared Treasure Trove if it has reasonable value, but I don’t think it will be worth much. The farmer knows a bit about finds – he said he had a leaflet about reporting finds. One of the commonest is the 1797 cartwheel penny, he says. What was sticking out of the concretion was too small to be that, and not corroded, so who knows? I might go back there again. I spent almost two hours in that field!”

“You’re sure the find is safe with him, Reg? You can be too trusting and accepting of people at times, you know. You don’t have enough experience of people’s foibles, love.”

“He and his wife seemed a pleasant couple, darling, and he is happy for me to go back and try again. I have his card with his name, address, phone number and email.”

“Oh, well, that sounds better. When will you hear from him?”

“No idea, but the finds officer will be on holiday the same as everyone else except farmers. I have a photo taken by the farmer of me holding the find; the concretion, it is apparently called. It is evidence that I found it.”

“I suppose so. Okay, Reg, let that go for now, but go visit the farm again. I’ll check with my father, to see if he knows about this farmer.”

“Talking about your father, what did he say about my mother?”

“Oh. Damn, I forgot to phone him. Sorry about that, Reg. We were so busy interrogating Fiona, that it went out of my head. I’ll phone him now, and cover both items. He should be at home.”

“Thanks, Frances. I’ll go get myself a cup of tea in the meantime.”

A while later, after he had drunk his tea, Reg was approached by Frances again.

“Okay, Reg. The news is that your mother is still getting over the flu, but is happy to talk to anyone. You can ring her at my folks’ place, and speak to her. On the other question, he said he would speak to Freda’s dad. He rang back almost immediately to report that Freda’s Dad says he will get in touch with the Finds Liaison Officer tomorrow, alert him of your discovery, as your lawyer, and inform him that the farmer is bringing it in for evaluation as possible Treasure Trove. He says that should ensure that the farmer cannot claim it outright as his own find.”

Reg looked alarmed. “I wasn’t expecting my farmer friend to make any such claim, Frances! He is a nice man. I know it.”

“You are probably right, Reg darling, but Freda says her Daddy knows best about legal matters, and thinks this is what should happen, just to be on the safe side.”

“Very well. I defer to her father’s expertise.” He looked at the wall clock. “It is probably too near our mealtime to phone my mother. Remind me to ring her after we have eaten.”

An hour later, Frances tapped him on the arm. “Reg, time to ring my parents and speak to your own mother.”

Nodding, he borrowed Frances’ phone and made the call. Mrs LeBrun answered.

“LeBrun residence.”

“Mrs LeBrun, it is Reginald. Can I speak to my mother please?”

“Certainly, Reg. Hang on while I get a twinny to fetch the phone to her.” Reg remembered that the twins were still doing the nursing and quarantine tasks, this time with his mother, so he waited patiently.

At last he heard his mother’s voice.

“Reg? Is that you, son?”

“It is, Mum. Happy New Year!”

“The same to you, Reg. It was nice of you to think of ringing me to say that.”

“There was another reason, Mum. I have discovered that when Dad was killed, I was there with him. You never told me that.”

“Yes, that’s right. You were too young at the time to know what was happening. You were in your push-chair, so you nearly got hit as well. I decided it was a nasty event you were better off not knowing about.”

“Well, you might have had the best of intentions with that decision, but all my life I felt that my Dad had abandoned me, and then died alone!”

“Oh. I didn’t realise you felt that way. Anyway, what did it matter?”

“Mum, it matters a lot. Freda’s Dad is a lawyer, and he tells me that if you had put in a legal claim within three years, you would have been entitled to compensation through the driver’s insurance company.”

“What? I missed out on compensation? Damn it!”

“Yes, Mum. You had three years, but ran out of time. However, he tells me that a child can claim up until being aged twenty-one, so if I have the details, I can still put in a claim. I need you to provide the details.”

“Oh.” She was silent for a moment. “So what do you need, Reg? I am still not up to par.”

“Basic data, such as date, time and place of the accident, proof that you are his wife and my mother – marriage and birth certificates – and hospital reports, including his death certificate from the hospital.”

There was another silence. Reg wondered what had happened, then she spoke again.

“All the family certificates are in a box under the chest of drawers in my bedroom. I don’t have the hospital records, as they didn’t give them to me – why should they?”

“I suppose that you would have had to get your lawyer to ask for them, and I expect you didn’t have a lawyer, right?”

“Yes; couldn’t afford one. There is a clipping from the local newspaper in the box with the death certificate. That may give some details, Reg lad. Sorry, I didn’t know about the legal possibilities, son.”

“I understand, Mum. You didn’t have the background to know what was possible. I still have my house key. You haven’t changed the lock, have you?”

“No, I couldn’t afford to do so even if I wanted. Will you go in and collect these papers, then?”

“As soon as I can, Mum. As for yourself, don’t impose on the LeBruns for too long, or our family will get a bad reputation.”

“No, I will get off home soon. I still have my job to get back to, Reg.”

“Ah, yes. You can send in a medical certificate covering your flu. You can do self-certification for under a week, can’t you?”

“I think so. I haven’t been off before. Anything else you want to know, son?”

“Only the hospital. I presume the death certificate will name the hospital he was taken to, where he died: did it?”

“I don’t remember, son. This was many years ago; but there was only the one hospital that it could have been: St. John’s.”

“St. John’s. Right, Mum, I’ll go with that, and see where it takes us. I hope that hospital is still there; a few hospitals have been closed in the intervening years.”

“I hope you are successful Reg. How much do you think you will get?”

“Mum, I have no idea, and the amount is not the point. It is all about getting compensation for the loss of my father, and the actual figure is immaterial.”

“But if you get a decent amount, Reg, that will be very useful.”

Reg was wise to his mother’s intentions. She would want a cut, if she could get it. He told her, “I will leave it in the hands of our lawyer, Mum. That will naturally be Freda’s Dad, as he will want to see his daughter and her husband get enough to live on. There will probably be expenses as well. I will be guided by our lawyer.

I hope you will be well soon, Mum, and can get home again. I’ll keep in touch. Bye.”

He rang off, and only then did he notice that he had not told his mother he loved her. It wouldn’t have been true, anyway, so he shrugged and forgot about it. He had his own real loves to give attention to, he told himself, so concentrated on that target.

Next morning, once all his loves had been satisfied that they had his attention, he dug out the house key for his old home. Frances was persuaded to drive him there, so he could recover the papers he needed as research tools for his compensation claim.

Entering, he was not surprised to find the house cold. He remembered his mother had no frost protection on the heating system, and wondered what he could do to ameliorate the situation. Frances was right behind him, and shivered as she stepped over the threshold.

“Damn, Reg, this is becoming a bad habit!”

“Just what I was thinking, love. Do you think we can do something about it?”

“Ah, yes. I see what you mean. I am sure that we could invest a little on your mother. Put on the heating to at least ten degrees [Celsius scale: The US is out of step with the rest of the world, by using Fahrenheit]. I can leave a couple of tenners to cover the cost. Is it gas or electric?”

“This council house has gas, darling, but the thermostat is similar, no matter what the fuel. I’ll put it to ten, so Mum will not be frozen when she gets home. Leave the money where she will quickly find it, before she panics, thinking she left it on all the time she was away. Write her a note, simply saying this is a New Year present from us all, to cover her extra gas.”

“Right, Reg. I can do that. I’ll leave it on the cooker in the kitchen, as that is where she will go first, looking for her kettle.”

“Wonderful, Frances. You are so great at coping with my Mum. I love you, woman!”

“Reg, I am not doing this for her. I am doing it for YOU, as you are being compassionate towards your mother, no matter how she treated you in the past. That is evidence of how much you have developed in the last few months, my darling man.”

“You know, I didn’t think of it that way, Frances. You have indeed made me into a new man; you and the other girls.”

“There was even more of a change. You didn’t even balk at asking me to provide the cash for this gesture. You have become a new man indeed, Reg.”

“Good grief, so I did! I didn’t even flinch at asking you to finance this gesture. We are indeed a family now, Frances, even if I should still be aiming to provide for you and the other girls.”

“Fine. End of story. Go deal with the heating, then find the documentation you need, and we’ll get on our way, dear.”

Reg did as directed, and shortly found the box described by his mother. It struck him that he had seldom been in his mother’s bedroom. She had always kept him out, treating it as her own private space. He realised how sad she was in that attitude of separation from her only child.

Shaking his head, he pulled out the box, laid it on the dressing table, and opened the lid. Inside was a pile of papers, so he pulled them out to identify which ones he needed. His own birth certificate caught his eye, and he spent a while perusing the content. He had no recollection of ever seeing it before, and it brought tears to his eyes; the evidence of his birth.

Next, he rummaged through the other papers till he found his parents’ marriage certificate, and then his father’s death certificate. This last had a news clipping fixed to it by a simple pin from his mother’s sewing box.

Reg took a quick glance at the newspaper clipping, confirming that it was a report of the accident where his father had died, then put it aside with his other documents. He continued to look through the remainder of the contents of the box, noting certificates relating to grandparents on either side, and some smaller pieces of newspaper: death announcements, marriage notices, and suchlike. There was even a black-bordered invitation to a funeral of over a hundred years ago.

Of such pieces of paper are memories made and cherished, Reg thought to himself. It made him realise that despite her many faults, his mother was a human being with a past worth remembering. That meant she was a similar human being worth acknowledging by himself, no matter her past behaviour towards him.

“Reg? Are you ready, love?” Frances was at the bedroom door, anxious to leave. She spotted the tears running down his face. “What’s wrong, Reg? Something missing?”

He looked up at her, and she hurried to clasp him to her bosom. His shoulders heaved as he let out another flood of tears. “Frances ... what was missing was the link between me and my Mum. When Dad died, she could have treated me as her last surviving piece of dad, but she went in the opposite way, and rejected me in her grief. All these years of grief, and she probably blamed me for being in my push chair, there with him. If he hadn’t been out, doing his parental duty, pushing me in my push-chair, he might not have been killed. I am sure that is what Mum thought. She blamed me for his death, so couldn’t bring herself to love me for all these years.”

He sighed at the thought

“We both missed so much.”

Frances hugged him tighter to her breast. “My poor boy! All these years without love. How terrible you must have felt.”

“Not until now, Frances,” he declared quietly to her. “At the time, I wasn’t aware of what I was missing. Now, between you and the other girls, being loved and loving in turn, I see what I lost. That is what brought the tears on: I came to a full realisation of my childhood years without a loving mother.”

“Reg, I think we should get you back to our house, your home, OUR home, where you are surrounded by love. That’s what you need to recover.”

“You are right, Frances. Thanks, my love.” He looked at the documentation in front of him. “We need something to store these in for taking them back with us.”

Frances sighed, “Typical man, no good at practicalities. Here you are: One strong carrier bag, that I shoved in the car when we left.”

“Thank you, my darling. I really need you to help me for the rest of my life, don’t I?”

“Indeed so. Now get these papers into the bag, and return the rest to your mother’s box. It looks like a chocolate box, doesn’t it? I’ll bet your Dad gave her a box of chocolates while they were courting, and she kept the box afterwards, for the memories of a pleasant time, then used it for the paper memories of the families on both sides. Nice thought, eh?”

“Yes, I see what you mean. You are very observant, Frances. It says a lot for you.”

“You will get there yourself, Reg. You can’t pick up every social nuance so quickly. Some of it develops over time; some comes quicker, like conversation and love-making. Now, let’s get back home.”

Reg locked up the house, then Frances got back into the driving seat.

“This reminds me, Reg. We still have to find you a driving school. Did you check the Yellow Pages?”

“I did, but I was unsure what would be a good school.”

“We’ll have a look at your list, and get previous users to give you pointers, even if it is just fellow students who have used them. Remember, none of us girls learned near here.”

“I remember, you told me that.”

“Oh, and another thing I was to tell you: Fiona was to ring her folks today, and inform them she was moving in with her boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? I am as little as that?”

Frances glared at him. “Reg! You are an idiot! She is breaking it to them gently; slowly and eventually informing them that she is going to be another wife in your expanded family.”

“That sounds like a good plan, Frances. In fact, it sounds like your idea.”

“It was. Now, shut up and let me concentrate on driving you back to our home, my man.”

Reg shut up and fastened his seat belt for the journey. Frances had already fastened hers as soon as she sat in the driving seat. He moved the carrier bag to the back seat for safe keeping, and they set off.

Once they got home, Frances called Freda, and handed her the carrier bag of documentation, with instructions to get it to her father for action.

Reg meanwhile sought out Fiona, to ask how she had got on with her phone call. She was in the kitchen, discussing meals with Prudence, but darted her head towards Reg as she heard his voice.

“How did it go, Fiona? Your call to your parents?”

She corrected him, “The call to my father and his wife, Reg, to be exact. Dad was very understanding when I told him I had a boyfriend, and was moving in with him.”

“A wise start, Fiona. What was said next?”

“My stepmother was also on the line, as Dad had it on speaker phone. She wanted to know about you, so I told her that you were everything that I had been looking for in a man, and that I had persuaded you to make me a woman.”

“Tricky point, there!” said Reg. “How did she take it?”

“Silly woman accused me of being a slut, flinging away my virginity just like that. Asked me how much I got for it!”

“Ouch. Underhand punch right at the start, eh?”

“Quite. I informed her that my virginity had been closely guarded for many years, and was not given away lightly. I added, ‘Daddy, you have confidence in my adult decisions, don’t you?’”

‘That is so, Fiona,’ said Dad. ‘You are already a university graduate, so you are certainly well educated and able to make decisions affecting your life.’

I liked that, as my stepmother doesn’t have any degree!”

Reg was tickled at that revelation. “So how did it end? Did you tell them more?”

“No, I decided to be careful in what I said for now, as advised by Frances. I simply informed my father that I would soon be giving up my apartment here, as I was sharing with you. I hinted that eventually we would be sharing costs, but didn’t say what costs, and then said goodbye. I didn’t even tell them your name, so my stepmother will be fuming. She has no way of investigating you without anything to go on,” Fiona giggled happily.

Reg frowned, and asked her, “Why should she want to investigate me?”

“Oh, that is how she is; a nosy parker. She can’t help being that way. I love keeping her out of the loop on everything I do.”

Reg was looking over at Frances as he replied, “I am very pleased at how you handled that call, Fiona. Can you have a chat with Frances before you tell them about the other girls and our Commitment? Frances will have further good advice on the subject.”

Frances caught the inference and nodded to Reg.

Fiona, not noticing, was in a bouncy mood. “Sure, I can do that, Reg. Your OTHER wives have been clueing me into how things operate here. I am sure I will fit in well with them. I just have to stop myself expecting to get hold of you any time I want you. We all have to share; it has been drilled into me.” She grinned at him expectantly and a little ferociously, as if preparing to pounce on him.

Reg smiled graciously. “I have very little say in the matter, Fiona. Frances has been appointed to be in charge of all arrangements for love-making, so make sure you keep on her good side!”

Fiona told him, “I am sure Frances and I will manage fine, Reg.”

Frances intervened, “We have Fiona’s accommodation sorted out here, Reg, so we will get her clothes and such transferred from her current apartment shortly. She has been learning who does what in this house, and she has elected to participate in food preparation and purchasing.”

Reg raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that an area where Carol and Holly will be taking over, dear?”

“Yes, but they are not here yet, so we still have to work on what IS, and not on what WILL be. All of us will have a discussion with the twins when they arrive, and work out what, if anything, they want us to do to help them. Just leave it to us girls, Reg. We know what we are doing.”

Reg suddenly felt stupid.

“Okay, I’ll leave it with you, my darling, but let me know if I can contribute with awkward tasks such as window-washing, or moving furniture for cleaning underneath.”

The next few days were busy ones for the entire family. They finally had time to admire each other’s Christmas gifts they had received on their travels, and later phone their parents to tell them what clever choices they had made. Carol and Holly starting phoning Frances with updates on their company induction course, and hinting about what they wanted to do when they joined the Robertson household.

Frances gave them advance warning of Fiona’s presence. At first they were annoyed, but when Frances asked them to explain what it was that annoyed them about someone they didn’t know, they had difficulty admitting it was selfishness on their own part.

Frances went on, telling the twins, “Girls, don’t imagine that everything here is going to be a bed of roses. Reg was sort of pushed into everything, you know, though he enjoys the results. There are bound to be people who will object to us; including women who imagine that we were somehow brainwashed into wanting to be wives in this day and age. We could have just lived together, and ignored what people might say, but all of us felt we needed to have some outward sign of the significance of our household, and especially its significance for us as a family.

 
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