A New Past - Cover

A New Past

Copyright© 2014 by Charlie Foxtrot

Chapter 17: Autumn Interludes

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 17: Autumn Interludes - A disenchanted scientist is sent into a version of his past and given a chance to change his future. Can he use is knowledge to avert the dystopian future he has lived through or is he doomed to repeat the mistakes of his past?

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Fiction   School   Rags To Riches   Science Fiction   DoOver   Time Travel   Anal Sex   First   Oral Sex   Slow  

It was strange shifting my work week around for my new project. I usually got home from football practice around six. Jeryl would come over to the office by seven unless she had excessive schoolwork. Even if she did, she often preferred to do it at the office instead of at home. Being the only daughter left at home made it strange, she said. We would then work on our search for a couple hours. After talking it over with Mom, I decided to do the bare minimum of company-related work during the week. I might read a research report or sign paychecks, but that was about it.

Of course, the Internet would have been a godsend in locating Jeryl’s missing aunt, but that was still several years away. Instead we had to rely on correspondence and records requests sent through the U.S. Postal Service. It was painfully slow.

“Holy cow,” Jeryl said as she read a letter one Monday evening. “Mom had two sisters. Helen Angela and Ingrid Catherine.” Her face fell a moment later. “It looks like Ingrid died as a child.”

I rubbed her shoulders as I read the letter over her shoulder. Jeryl had reached out to the local librarian near her grandmothers’ town under the guise of putting together a family history and researching the family tree. The librarian had been only too happy to send copies of newspaper clippings back to Jeryl.

“Helen Angela Morgan,” I read. “She was ten years older than your mother it looks like,” I said.

“Yeah, but nothing about her other than this birth announcement and this one notice that she won a ribbon for dance at the county fair when she was twelve.”

“I wonder where she disappeared to.”

“We have a full name, now. Do you think Jim’s friends can help us?”

“I hope so. I’ll call them tomorrow over lunch and get them the name.” Jim had given me an introduction to a small detective agency that several insurance companies used to track down lost heirs and other people who had lost touch with loved ones. They had said that they enjoyed good success at locating lost relatives so long as the person was not making a concerted effort to actually disappear. Hopefully, that would prove to be the case with Jeryl’s aunt.

“So, what are we going to do this weekend? Are you going to wine and dine me after your football game?” Jeryl asked playfully.

“Actually, I was going to take you for a bite to eat after the game, but then not see you until Monday.”

“What?” She was giving me concerned look. “Why not?”

I smiled. “It’s a surprise. I’ve got to take a quick trip and won’t get home until late Sunday night.”

“And you’re not telling what this trip is about?”

“Nope.”

She stood up and gave me a slow, languid kiss. “I bet I can make you tell me.”

“Nope.” She kissed me again and stood on her toes to nibble my ear. “Are you sure I can’t convince you?” One hand was on my shoulder. The other slid down my chest to cup my crotch and give me a gentle squeeze.

I kissed the softly and then whispered. “No. You’ll learn about it soon enough.”

She sat back and looked at me with a pout. “You’re no fun, Paul.”

“Oh, I’m plenty of fun, but I want to surprise you, so I need to make this secret trip.”

“Are you sure I’ll like the surprise? You’d hate to disappoint me, you know.”

“Pretty sure. Besides, do you think your mother would let you fly away with me for a dirty weekend during the school year?”

Jeryl snorted. “I’d be lucky if she left it at a simple ‘no’. Most likely asking would launch yet another tirade. Things are quiet, if not peaceful at home, so I suppose we should keep it that way.”

I hugged my girlfriend. “It will get better, I promise.”

The football game ended in a tie Friday night. It was frustrating that our defense gave up no points but our offense could not capitalize. Our three scoring opportunities had all resulted in missed field goals by our sophomore kicker. Afterward, Jeryl tried to cheer me up while attempting to learn more about my trip. I stayed true to my word, mostly by keeping my lips in contact with her delectable flesh so I was too busy to answer.

The next morning, I was up at four-thirty and at the local airport by six. The sky was just lighting up when we took off for Chicago. An hour later, I was boarding a plane for Salt Lake City. Sanford greeted me at the gate as I got off.

“Good morning, Paul.”

I tried to be as cheerful. “Good morning. How are things in Salt Lake City?” I asked.

“A little slow, even on a Friday night. I’ve got the car. You’re meeting your decorator at two, so we have a couple of hours before we need to head up to Park City.”

“Great. I want to go down to Temple Square and stop by the genealogy center.” The LDS church had one of the largest genealogy centers in the world. It was my hope I could learn a little more about Jeryl’s missing aunt while I was here.

Unfortunately, the center’s records were not yet computerized so I only ended up filling out some request forms, making a donation to the center, and then heading on up the road to Park City. After a quick burger for lunch, we arrived at the mountain house in Deer Valley.

Tremendous progress had been made since finalizing the plans. The building looked almost finished on the outside and there appeared to be a half-dozen craftsmen parked in the driveway and working inside. Carl, my architect saw us pull up and greeted me.

“Paul, it’s good to see you again.” He waved his hand at the house. “What do you think?”

I stood in awe. The stone and cedar siding of the front of the house was perfect, just as I had imagined it. A large covered entryway stood before us with the three-car garage off to the right of the circular driveway. The steep roofline was covered in slate tiles and the copper flashing and gutters were still bright. I knew they would tarnish with time, but right now they added gleaming accents to the lines of the building.

“I think it looks spectacular. If the inside is half as nice as the exterior, I’m going to love this house.”

Carl laughed. “That’s the goal. Let me show you around. We’re doing finishing work inside right now.”

I followed him into the entryway. “We’ve got radiant heating under all the stone and hardwood flooring, so you’ll not have to worry about cold drafts.” I looked at the finishing and smiled. The attention to detail was evident. The large closet had plenty of room for coats and boots and there was a built-in bench opposite it for putting on shoes. Past the entryway, you could see the fireplace flanked by huge windows of the great room and dining room looking down the valley and ski slopes.

I moved further into the house. On the left, there were stairs with wrought-iron finials and hardwood banisters curving up and down. “The master suite is over there,” Carl said waving his hand beyond the stairs. “Watch your step,” he cautioned as I walked slowly toward the windows. The hardwood floors had cardboard runners down to protect them.

The pass-through fireplace separated the great room from the dining room. It was a towering edifice of stone with its chimney running up to the ceiling over thirty feet above. I walked all the way to the windows and then turned to take in the room. A balcony ran above what would be the hallway if there had been a wall between the entryway and great room. Tucked in above the master suite was a library area with built in bookshelves. The balcony disappeared behind the chimney. Along the back wall was a built-in wet bar and cabinets for a stereo. The wall beyond the stairs on this level was also lined with built-in bookshelves. I could imagine sitting here enjoying the fire with a good book as snow fell outside.

“Carl, this looks incredible. I can’t wait to see what the decorator has in mind.”

“Well, she’ll be here in an hour or so. In the meantime, let me show you the master suite.”

I followed him into my future room. The suite was designed to have its own sitting room along with a bed and full bath. The bathroom was already finished in marble and granite. “Steam shower and four nozzles, in addition to the full soaking tub you asked for,” Carl said. The tub was built into a nook looking across the slope. It was deeper than a regular Jacuzzi tub, being almost four feet deep with built-in benches to sit on. It also had its own re-circulating heater to keep the water hot. “I’ve never built a custom tub before, but I can see how this would be nice to soak in after a hard day of skiing.”

“That was my thinking.” At the front of the house, through the bathroom, there was a huge walk-in closet. I strolled to the back of the house and into the master bedroom. It was spacious with its own fireplace. French doors opened out onto a private porch that wrapped around the corner of the house. It was going to be a fabulous spot to enjoy the sunset from in the summer.

Next, Carl led me back out to the great room and past the fireplace. The dining room stretched the width of the house with another great view down the valley. “We really tried to maximize the views from every room,” Carl said. “I had to alter the plans a little to do it, but think you and your guest will like what we’ve built.”

I could only agree. The kitchen was next and beyond it the hallway to the three guest rooms and the junior suite at the far end of the house. Carl showed me each room, pointing out the unique features of each. Next we went downstairs. The lounge area was open beneath the great room. The ski locker separated the open area from my office which had great views as well. We were just taking a look at the sauna when the decorator arrived. We finished a quick walkthrough of the downstairs, only glancing at the small kitchenette and bunk room at the far end of the house.

Sylvia Transmeyer was a middle-aged woman who obviously took great pride in her appearance. Her blonde hair had touches of silver in them, but her figure could have passed for a much younger woman. She was trim and athletic with a ready smile and hazel eyes. I shook her hand as she found us downstairs.

“Sylvia, it is so good to see you again,” I said. I had met her just the once during the summer when I had signed off on Carl’s design. Carl had recommended her to me.

“Thank you, Paul. It’s good to see you again. Are you excited about the house?”

“Very. And I’m excited to see how you are going to make it even better.”

“Well, then let’s get started.” She guided us back up stairs and we were soon busy reviewing the sketches and samples she had laid out. By the time I got to enjoy the first sunset from my house, I was exhausted but very happy with Sylvia’s recommendations.

“Sylvia, this is all exactly what I wanted.”

“I do try to listen to my clients,” she said with a smile. “I knew from our first conversation that you wanted decor that would stand the test of time. I think the furniture and finishings will do that for you. If you decide to rent your house out for part of the year, all of this will last under heavy use and also justify top dollar from any renters.”

“Well, I don’t plan on renting it out, but I will have guests here that I want to both impress and make comfortable.”

“I think they will be very comfortable.”

“What about the kitchen?” I asked as she collected her samples.

“What do you mean? The pulls and fixtures are all done in there.”

“Sorry, I meant pots, pans and dishes. I thought you were handling that as well.”

“Of course, but I didn’t bring the patterns. I can send you pictures to review if you’d like. I went with rustic stoneware and stainless silverware for everyday use and planned on ordering a twelve place setting set of china and formal dinnerware.” She patted my hand and smiled. “I’ll make sure you can do a thanksgiving feast or formal dinner proud.”

I laughed. “Well, that’s a relief. If Carl has the inspections done on schedule, I’m planning on having some family out here for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Maybe both.”

“Well, we should be ready for that. Thanksgiving is seven weeks away. All of the furnishings and linens should be in before then. If something is going to be delayed, I can probably get temporary items to fill any gaps.”

“I couldn’t ask for anything more. I really do appreciate all your help on this.”

“It’s my pleasure, Paul. I don’t often get the opportunity to decorate a whole house all at once. This has been a great project to work on. In fact, I’d like to bring in a photographer to take pictures once it’s all done. It’s a great house, and it will look fabulous when I’m done.”

The next morning, I was back out at the house, meeting with Carl and the landscape designer. I was certain I was spending extra to meet with them on Sunday, but wanted to have a good idea of the landscaping work before the first snows fell. The designer was also handling the exterior lighting. My last set of meetings included Sanford and another of Alison’s associates as they went over the security arrangements at the house. By the time I was dropped off at the airport, I was ready for a quiet, relaxing flight home. It had been a hectic weekend, but worth it.

Or, it would be worth it if I could get my girlfriend’s family to join me for the housewarming.


“Did you have a good weekend without me?” Jeryl asked Monday evening when she walked into the office. Talk about a loaded question.

I got up from my desk and gave her a big hug and kiss. “It was a horrible weekend. I feel like I spent half of it on a plane. I missed you.”

My words seemed to soothe her ire a little.

“Okay, I guess I’ll forgive you, or at least postpone judgment until I know what it was all about.”

I kissed her. “Thank you. I think you’ll like it.” She began booting her computer as I went back to my desk. Mondays were the evening we tried to handle any correspondence from the prior week. Kelly usually dropped off a load on Saturday or Sunday. Anything that came directly to the office, we filed until our evening mail day.

“Did I miss anything exciting?” I asked as I grabbed the mail file from the safe.

“Interesting more than exciting. Kelly and Jim were discussing Kelly prepping for the California Bar Exam.”

“Oh? Why’s that interesting?”

“Why does she need to be licensed in California? It wouldn’t have anything to do with us going to Stanford, would it?”

I grinned. It was hard to get much past Jeryl. “Well, I sort of suggested that some of the work would not get put off, and that it might make sense to have an office nearby when we go out there.”

“Just suggested?” She asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Just suggested. Jim and Mom then took over. I think they want someone they trust available in case we have any problems out there. I also think we’ll have a lot more money to invest in researchers and start-ups soon. Stanford is not a bad place to look for ideas. Candace mentioned something along those lines during our trip to Lockheed this summer.”

There was a long, rich history of venture capital funds in the valley, but I knew it was preparing to take off in a tremendous way over the next couple of decades. I had not yet decided if we should start our own fund or join one of the small firms that were soon to explode in the first Internet bubble.

Jeryl smiled at me and then got a serious look on her face. “And you’re just now talking to me about it? Am I really just a secretary for you?”

Uh-oh.

“No,” I said immediately. “You’re my girlfriend and my partner-in-crime. I have no idea what title you should have, but you are much more than a secretary. What do you want to be?”

She pursed her lips and tapped a finger against them. “I can’t be CEO, because you are. We don’t really need a CMO since you don’t actively market your ideas to companies. Jim has General Counsel tied up. What’s left?”

“Well, how about COO? You keep me operating on an even keel, that’s for sure.”

Jeryl went from serious to playful in a heartbeat. She gave a little squeal and jumped up to give me a hug. “COO, that’s the title I want. What do I need to do to get it?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Well, unfortunately, you’ll have to wait until you’re eighteen so you can legally accept the employment contract that I’m sure Jim will want you to sign.”

She gave me a fake pout.

“But, luckily for you, there is a lengthy interview process that we can start on.”

She reached between my legs. “It doesn’t feel as lengthy as I’d like,” She said as she looked me in the eye and licked her lips. “Oh, wait, I think I misspoke.”

I pulled her in for a kiss. I thought our play was going further when she stopped me. “Okay, mister, is that any way to treat your future COO?” She stood and straightened her blouse. “You have work to do.”

“Wow, if I had known you were going to be a slave driver, I never would have offered.”

Jeryl laughed and gave me a quick kiss. “Let’s get this mail done and then I’ll take care of my male.”

It wasn’t until we were halfway through the week’s correspondence that I realized I was really forgiven for leaving her alone over the weekend. If she was upset still, we would not have had the fun little by-play.


I saw the letter in the office as I was cleaning things up for our Tuesday night AP study group. We had expanded last year’s group after we lost our seniors and opened it up to any of the AP courses Jeryl or I happened to be taking. We usually had between eight and ten students there every Tuesday.

The letter was addressed to me from the private investigators we had hired. Part of me wanted to wait until Jeryl got there, but I also wanted to protect her from bad news. I opened the letter and read it quickly. It was good news.

As soon as Jeryl came in ten minutes later, she knew something was up.

“I think we need to plan a visit to Chicago again this weekend,” I said.

“It’s too cold for a baseball game,” she responded.

I showed her the letter.

She read it quickly and then grabbed me for a hug. “She’s in Chicago, can you believe it? Oh my God, Paul do you really think we should just pop up there to visit?”

“I think we should, but I don’t think we should mention why.”

“Mention to whom?”

“Anyone. Did you see what your aunt does?”

Jeryl gave me a puzzled look and then read more of the letter. “Wow, talk about things shaping your life.”

Her Aunt Helen was a psychologist who specialized in helping women recover from abusive relationships. The letter included her office contact information.

“And I think we should have Tiffany call her to schedule something for Saturday.”


Jeryl was incredibly nervous on our flight up to Chicago. We landed at Midway Field this time. Sanford and Tiffany were waiting for us. Jeryl didn’t say a word as we drove across the city to the more affluent north side. She just held my hand in hers.

Helen’s practice was in a small office complex. It had its own door. The lettering on the sign read, “Dr. Helen Conrad, by appointment only.” Jeryl paused and fidgeted for a minute before ringing the bell.

“Go ahead,” I said. “It will be fine.”

She brushed her hands down her dark wool skirt, tugged on her jacket and then pushed the button. A moment later, the door opened and an older version of her mother, but with longer, blonde hair stood before us.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t allow solicitors here,” she said quickly as she started to close the door. Obviously we did not look like a woman named Tiffany who was here for an initial appointment about putting her life back together after fleeing her husband.

“Aunt Helen?” Jeryl managed to say as I stopped the door from closing fully.

She did not resist my gentle push to re-open the door as she looked at Jeryl with wide eyes.

“What did you say?”

Jeryl found her nerve. “I asked if you were my Aunt Helen. Formerly Helen Angela Morgan from Michigan.”

Helen took a step back. As the door opened wider, we stepped into her outer office. It was well appointed, but comfortable. There was sitting room for several people and a small credenza with a coffee service set up on it. Helen’s eyes were still locked on Jeryl.

“How do you know that name?”

“I did a records search from the local library where my grandmother lives. If you are she, your youngest sister is Janet Morgan, now Janet Salaway. She is my mother. I’m Jeryl Salaway. That makes you my Aunt Helen, doesn’t it?”

Helen leaned against a chair and looked intently at Jeryl’s face. The color was draining from her own as she brought her hand up to her mouth. “Oh my God. You’re little Janet’s daughter.” Tears came to her eyes. “You’re so beautiful. Your cousins are going to be so happy to finally meet you.”

She lurched up and grabbed Jeryl for a hug.

“I never thought I’d find out what happened to my family!” she said with a sob. They held each other for several minutes. I caught a glimpse of Jeryl’s tear-streaked face as she hugged her aunt. I was happy to see the smile on her lips. It was definitely tears of happiness.

Soon, both ladies got control of themselves and we made quick introductions. Tiffany did get a scolding look when she was introduced, but Helen then gave her a hug and thanked her for bringing her niece back into her life.

“Don’t thank me, ma’am. Thank Paul. I just made the appointment,” Tiffany said.

“So, Paul Taylor, boy genius is your boyfriend,” Helen asked with a smile. “I saw him on TV last spring.”

“He is,” Jeryl said. “It was his idea and his money that helped me track you down.”

“You’ll have to tell me about that,” Helen said as she escorted us into her office. Tiffany stayed in the front as we sat down. Jeryl told her aunt of our search through old records and then finally getting her name and being able to bring in the private investigators.

“I hope it did not cost you much, Paul,” she said with a smile. “If mother were not so stubborn, you could have gotten my address from her.”

“What do you mean?” Jeryl asked.

“Well, when she first kicked me out, I was very angry with her. Richard, my husband brought me to Chicago. His family had as much money as ours, but none of the pretense that mother loved to insist on. If we had gotten married before Richard Jr. was conceived, it would have been a fabulous social occasion. Of course, it was all my fault that such a grand affair could not be held. Mother threw me out of her house and Richard brought me straight to his. This was 1946, and that soon after the war, there were many ‘premature’ babies being born.”

“And Richard’s family didn’t mind?” Jeryl asked.

Helen laughed. “They might have minded, but Richard didn’t. He brought me home and introduced me to his parents. A minute later, before they could ask a single question, he informed them that he would be marrying me in-front of a judge the following Monday. When his father asked if he had to marry me, he said, and I quote, ‘Of course I do. I love her.’ I just about fell apart crying my eyes out.”

“Richard’s mother got the rest of the story out of me over the next few weeks, but Richard always said he planned on marrying me from the moment he set eyes on me at my coming-out party. He met me there en-route to assignment in Europe. We exchanged letters over the following months and he stopped in Michigan when he was discharged. He insisted I come with him to Chicago. Mother, of course, was having none of that, so he rented a room nearby and courted me right under her nose.”

“Getting pregnant was entirely my fault. I thought I knew my cycle, but I miscounted by a day or two. We had been sleeping together for a couple of weeks before I missed my first period and knew I had made a mistake.”

“Anyway, as you can imagine, I was pretty upset with Mother during that period. Richard’s mother insisted I send her a copy of the birth announcement. I did the same when Karen and Olivia were born. I also sent her a Christmas card and Mother’s Day card every year. I’ve never heard a single thing back from her, but she has always had my return address.”

“Wow, I wonder if she kept them all,” Jeryl said. “I know she never shared them with Mom.”

Helen reached over and patted her hand. “Tell me about your Mom. The last time I saw her she was seven years old and as cute as a button. I felt so bad that I couldn’t see her when I left.”

Jeryl smiled and then shook her head. After a few fits and starts, she told about her family and then the problems we had over the past few months. Helen reached across the small space between their chairs and held her hand. “Jeryl, I can state categorically that my mother was wrong both in her thinking and attitude. I’m so sorry she infected Janet’s thinking as well. If I can do anything to help set things straight, I’d be happy to.”

“Well,” It was my turn to enter the conversation. “How would you feel about joining us in Park City for Thanksgiving?” I asked.

“Joining you?” Helen asked as Jeryl gave me a curious look. I had not discussed this part of my plan with her yet.

“I bought some land out there and am building a house. If we can get Janet to come out for the house warming, we can arrange for you and your family to be there as well. It should be tolerable for use by Thanksgiving. Of course, I’ve reserved a block of rooms in a local hotel as well, since there is no way everyone can stay at the house. It’s not big enough for that.”

“Just how big is this house you’re building, mister?” Jeryl asked with an arched eyebrow.

I blushed. “Five bedrooms, plus two small apartments for security and staff. We could probably sleep fourteen to sixteen people there if we needed to.”

“And that’s too small?” Helen asked.

“My Mom and Jim.” I raised two fingers. “Kelly and me.” I raised two more. “The Salaway’s.” We were up to nine. “Helen and her family is thirteen. Uncle Ben and his family, and we’re already at seventeen. I want a few others along for the housewarming as well, so rather than hurt anyone’s feelings, I booked a block of rooms in town as well and figured I would go over the guest list with you before finalizing things.”

My forethought was rewarded with a smile. “And just when were you going to talk to me about it,” Jeryl asked a tad too sweetly.

“This weekend?”

“How are we going to get my mother to agree?”

“I figured we would let your dad take care of that. I’ve got the plane tickets booked. Jordan and Jyl will fly out straight from school. I’ll do the same for Helen’s family.”

“I can’t let you pay for our tickets, Paul. You’ve only just met me.”

“Helen, I lost my father just before I turned five. I refuse to let Jeryl lose her mother over this. If flying you to Utah for a week and putting you up helps you all heal the rift in your family, I will insist on paying that price. I’ll even fly Cynthia Morgan out there, if that will help.”

Helen looked at me with renewed interest. After a moment, she nodded. “That is probably what it will take to finally resolve some perceptions in our family. Are you sure you want to ruin a housewarming with the fireworks you’re likely to see?”


Our football season ended with a whimper instead of a bang, but I found I didn’t really care that much. The coaches were happy with my performance on defense. I had led the conference in sacks and our defense had given up the fewest yards per game in the conference, but the offense never really jelled. Frankly, with planning my Thanksgiving surprise, I was glad we were done at the end of the regular season.

Jeryl was trying to contain her excitement over the plans and getting her mother and aunt together. I urged caution. “Jeryl, I really hope everything comes out alright, but you can’t predict how your mother or grandmother will react. You heard your aunt; your grandmother has never shown a sign of regret or remorse over throwing her out. Do you think she’s just going to reverse a lifetime of resolve when she sees her oldest daughter again?”

“No. She’s going to have a cow and start to say something stupid, and I’m going to sit on her until she listens and learns that the world has changed,” she said with a grin. Then her look sobered. “I know you’re right, Paul, but I want to at least start the healing. Aunt Helen told me that in all of her experience counseling people, until there is acceptance for responsibility, there can be no reconciliation. She has accepted what actions she was responsible for. If mother and grandmother can’t do the same, we probably will have the fireworks she anticipated.”

“If we do, we’ll deal with it. Now, we really need to finish up deciding who we want in the house and who should stay in the hotel.” We had gone over a dozen permutations in the past week.

“I think you should stay in the master suite.” I had been suggesting we give it to Mom and Jim or her parents. Mom and Jim had let us know that they would stay in the hotel, away from some of the family drama they expected to play out. “It’s your house, your rules. If you put Mom in the master suite, she’ll subconsciously assume she is the lady of the house and it is her rules.”

“Okay, I can see your point. Mom and Jim would have been better at keeping everyone on an even keel, though. So that puts your folks in the guest suite.” I made a note on rough outline of rooms I had sketched out. “Where are you sleeping?” I asked.

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