A Well-Lived Life 2 - Book 5 - Michelle - Cover

A Well-Lived Life 2 - Book 5 - Michelle

Copyright © 2015-2023 Penguintopia Productions

Chapter 52: A Surprise Visitor

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 52: A Surprise Visitor - This is the continuation of the story told in "A Well-Lived Life 2", Book 4. If you haven't read the entire 10 book "A Well-Lived Life" and the first four books of "A Well-Lived Life 2" you'll have some difficulty following the story. This is a dialog driven story. The author was voted 'Author of the Year' and 'Best New Author' in the 2015 Clitorides Awards, and 'Author of the Year' in 2017.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Workplace   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Slow  

January 24, 1992, Chicago, Illinois

“I have signed offer letters from all four of the BLS staff,” Elyse said. “That includes Kelly. I talked to our relocation consultant and everything is set for them being here. Did you hear that Ally’s husband is flying to Ohio for an interview?”

“No. But once I heard he was ex-military, I thought that might be the case. Did Kimmy find a place for her?”

“Yes. It’s a sub-let, but it seems like we might not need it. There’s a cancellation fee, but it’s not steep. I’ll wait to see what comes of that. Next problem. Office space.”

I sighed, “I knew you were going to say that. What about Cindi’s ‘hoteling’ idea?”

“I think that actually solves the problem, if you’re willing to rearrange things a bit.”

“I’m open to anything that doesn’t involve moving. We need to figure out how to make this space last at least three more years.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible. We can rearrange things here a bit and make it work for now. Cindi’s ‘hoteling’ idea will help here just as it will in LA and Pittsburgh. But if Cindi and Charlie’s projections for the next twelve months are accurate, we’ll need new space.”

“Damn it. OK. Figure out how to make it work for the rest of the year, spending as little as possible on the changes. Once we get through the initial push with BLS, we’ll start looking at options. But this time, we do a ten-year plan and make damned sure the space is sufficient for whatever the 90th percentile is. If we have extra space, so be it. But we aren’t moving again.”

“Purchase or lease?”

“We’ll look at all options. That includes potentially keeping this space and leasing it to someone else.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No. If you have everything set for the BLS folks, I’ve taken care of the phones. I don’t think I need to go back to Boston at this point. Art will close things down there. Cindi has all the customer records and I believe she gave everything to Kimmy to enter into our system.”

“She did. Sam added the necessary fields to the database to identify the BLS customers.”

“Speaking of Sam, what came of your research on how we handle issues?”

“There are no good options. According to Doctor Lambert, all small companies have this kind of problem. Human Resources or Personnel all work for the CEO. You can set up procedures and processes, but in the end, you run into the same issues. A large corporation can set up better procedures, and there usually aren’t the friendship or familial ties, and the Board is usually independent.”

“So we cross our fingers and hope?”

“I have some things that will help, including creating a formal process for complaints and putting it in the employee handbook. Where the problem might arise is if you were to have to discipline someone important. I’m afraid you might be reticent to do it.”

“Of course I would, unless I was absolutely sure it was warranted. Too often people go off half-cocked and I won’t do that. I’ll take any complaint seriously, but I’ll have to be convinced it’s legitimate to take punitive action against anyone.”

“OK. Don’t forget we’re having people over on Sunday for the Super Bowl.”

“A game nobody cares about,” I said.

“But commercials we all want to see! It’s the usual suspects. Kurt and Kathy, Pete and Melanie, Jamie and Jackie, Dave and Julia, Cindi, the Gang of Four. The Navy boys all have something going on up at the base.”

“OK. I’m going back to my office. I have a couple of phone calls to make. And some contracts to review.”

“Have fun!”

January 25, 1992, Chicago, Illinois

“Steve,” Abbie said. “There’s a lost little girl at the front door who says she’s looking for her dad.”

Alarm bells rang in my head. Loud ones. With klaxons and strobe lights.

“Did she say what her name is?”

“Rachel.”

Fuck. Double fuck.

“She’s alone?”

“Yes. I let her in so she didn’t have to stand in the cold. She’s in the foyer.”

Who did I need? Kara? Elyse? Jessica? Shit. I had no idea.

“OK. Let’s go talk to her.”

We went to the foyer and my gravest fears were confirmed. It was Rachel Marie Rizzi.

“Hi, Rachel,” I said. “Where’s your mom?”

“Home! I wanted to see my dad!”

Abbie, not having been around when everything went down, asked the question I would never ask.

“Who’s your dad, honey?” Abbie asked.

“His name is Steve! He lives here!”

Abbie’s head snapped around to look at me, and she mouthed ‘her?’? I nodded.

“Sweetie, do you know your phone number?” Abbie asked.

“Yes!” and she told Abbie.

“Go call,” I said quietly. “And then ask Kara and Jess to come to the kitchen.”

“Let’s get you some cookies and milk or hot chocolate,” I said to Rachel.

I took her to the kitchen and found a package of Oreos and then poured her some milk.

“Are you my daddy?” she asked.

“Let’s wait until your mommy gets here to talk, please.”

“If you are Steve, then you’re my daddy! She said so!”

“I’m sure she did, sweetie. Why don’t you eat your cookies?”

Fortunately, she picked up a cookie, dunked it in the milk and started eating. By the time she finished the first one, Abbie was back with my wives.

“Her mom is coming over. She’ll be here in about five minutes.”

“Abbie would you stay with Rachel for a moment?” I asked.

She nodded and my wives followed me out of the kitchen and around the corner.

“What’s going on?” Jessica asked.

“Carla obviously has Rachel convinced I’m her dad. I’m guessing they live somewhere close, maybe in one of the apartment complexes south of Hyde Park Avenue. What concerns me is that Rachel knew where to come. That’s not just telling Rachel I’m her dad, but saying this is where her dad lives.”

“That poor kid is going to be really messed up!”

“I know. We all know the DNA tests proved I’m not the dad. The Court agreed and dismissed the case. I thought Carla would get married and that would be the end of it. Obviously it wasn’t. I don’t know if Carla got married, or anything. The last I heard from her was a voice message I ignored and that visit here.”

“So what do we do?” Kara asked.

“Wait for Carla to come get her and hear what she has to say. Then we’ll decide if we call Gwen or do something else.”

“This is just bizarre,” Jessica said.

“I agree,” I said. “But, what’s truly bizarre is that I believe Carla is telling the truth as she knows it. The question is, why doesn’t SHE know what happened.”

“What?” Jessica recoiled.

“Sorry. I think everything Carla has said is true, so far as she is aware. But something - I have no idea what, but something - happened to her between the time I was with her and when Rachel was conceived. I used a condom, like we discussed. I FELT her hymen tear. There was a trace of pink on the condom. So it didn’t happen before me, unless it was artificial insemination. That means sometime AFTER I was with her, in the next few days, she had sex with someone. Or, rather, someone had sex with her. Maybe she was unconscious or drugged or drunk. But whatever happened, she doesn’t know what it was.”

“Either that, or the Holy Spirit,” Kara said with a smirk.

“If we’re going that route, then Tiberius Julius Pantera, is more likely!”

“You’ve completely lost me,” Jessica said.

“In the Talmud there’s a reference to ‘Jesus ben Pantera’, you know ‘son of Pantera’, and some people identify that as a Roman soldier named Tiberius Julius Pantera. The claim being that Jesus is a bastard. There are hints in the Gospel of John, chapter 8, where the Pharisees seem to claim that Jesus was born of fornication.”

We are not born of fornication, we have one God, the Father,” Kara said. “I remember that now.”

“Exactly. Anyway, sorry. What I’m saying is there IS someone like that here. She just has no clue what happened. Is there ANY other explanation?”

“Only if you are a chimera and have multiple sets of DNA,” Jessica said. “But they did blood and cheek swabs, twice, and found no anomalies. So, no, there isn’t.”

We went back to the kitchen where Rachel was finishing her last cookie. A minute later, the doorbell rang. After a quick discussion, Abbie went to answer it and brought Carla into the kitchen.

“Rachel! You didn’t tell me where you were going!” she said.

“I wanted to find my daddy!” she said.

“Carla, we need to talk,” I said. “Can you take Rachel home and come back?”

“Why can’t she stay?”

“Because I don’t want her talking with my kids or their friends until we sort this out.”

“There’s nobody else at home. It’s just Rachel and me.”

That concerned me because last I’d heard, she was engaged and going to be married soon.

“Steve,” Abbie said, “Elyse and Penny are with the kids. Let me go tell them, then I’ll take Rachel to my room. We’ll find something fun to do.”

“OK.”

She left and was back a moment later and took Rachel with her. I took the pot of tea that I’d been brewing with us, along with four mugs, and we went to my study. We rearranged the chairs so that the four of us could sit in a circle, and I poured tea.

“Carla, this is Doctor Jessica Adams, my legal wife. This is Professor Kara Adams, my second wife. Ladies, this is Carla Rizzi. As everyone knows, Carla and I engaged in sex using a condom on March 25, 1984. All signs, including her statements, indicate that Carla was, indeed, a virgin. Unbeknownst to me, Carla gave birth to Rachel Marie on January 10, 1985. On October 17, 1988, she served me with a paternity suit. That suit was dismissed, with prejudice and a declaration of non-parenthood, after two DNA tests showed that I am not Rachel’s father. Today, Rachel showed up at our door, asking to see her ‘daddy’ and claiming his name was ‘Steve’. Does anyone dispute any of that?”

“No!” my wives said emphatically.

“Well, I don’t dispute the test results, but you are her father, Steve. There is no other person it could be.”

“Carla,” Jessica said gently, “I’m a medical doctor. Kara is a professor of chemistry with a Master’s degree. We have a friend who has a Master’s in biochemistry and is a research biochemist. All three of us, in our trained, professional opinions, believe the DNA tests are conclusive. The courts believe they are conclusive. The State of Illinois believes they are conclusive. There were two complete tests with blood and DNA from all three of you, by two different labs. That rules out any error. Steve simply can NOT be Rachel’s biological father.”

“Be that as it may, I was not with another man before Rachel was born, and not for some time after. And honestly, that second one was the man I was engaged to, and that was when Rachel was two.”

“Was engaged to?” I said.

“We broke up,” Carla said simply. “It’s just Rachel and me now. She goes to school and I’m working as a wedding photographer.”

“What is it you want, Carla?” Jessica asked.

“Well, I know I have no legal claims now. My lawyers were clear about that. I want Steve to acknowledge his daughter and I want Rachel to know her father.”

“But he’s not her father,” Kara said gently. “It’s scientifically impossible. And you’ve obviously been telling her that he is.”

“What do you want me to do?” Carla asked. “She asks who her daddy is and there is only one possibility.”

“We can go ‘round and ‘round on this,” I said. “And we’re not going to get anywhere. We trust the science. Carla trusts what she is certain happened. It’s an impasse which we can’t solve.”

“Why can’t you just accept it for what it is?” Carla asked, almost in tears.

I put my head in my hands and shook it. This was an impossible situation, made even MORE impossible by Carla telling Rachel I was her father. There was literally nothing I, or anyone else, was going to be able to say that would change Carla’s mind. And there was nothing she could do or say at this point which would change my mind, or my wives’ minds. We were ALL missing something. I wondered if there was a way to discover what it was.

“Carla,” I said. “Let’s think back to March of 1984. You invited me to dinner, and after many, many months of back and forth, finally asked me to make love to you, and then you sent me away. Do we agree on that?”

“Yes, of course. And it was wonderful.”

“So why send him away?” Jessica asked.

That wasn’t the direction I wanted to take, but perhaps a conversation might help. I let it go.

“Because I knew he wouldn’t be my steady boyfriend and I was already starting to fall in love with him. I couldn’t have a long-term relationship that was just about sex and nothing else.”

“Carla, why not call Steve when you realized you were pregnant?” Jessica asked.

“I was scared, I guess.”

“Carla,” I said gently, “Do you remember everything that happened for the next week or so?”

“Well, you left and I showered and went to bed. I guess the next day was Monday and I went to work. I don’t remember exactly what I did, but whatever Dustin had going on. I don’t remember if we worked every day. I think the next weekend we worked a wedding. Yes, we did. It was out in Round Lake, so we had rooms in the hotel. I went home on Sunday. Then it was another week of doing whatever Dustin had on. I don’t think we had anything that weekend. I think my period was due a week after that.”

That wedding had to be it. Something had to have happened there. But I had no idea how to approach Carla about that.

“Carla, who got married?” Jessica asked.

“No clue. Some suburban couple, I think. Just a normal wedding and a banquet at a hotel. I think we did the pictures, and then were invited to the reception. I remember because that didn’t happen very often.”

“What did you do at the reception?” I asked.

“Just kind of hung out at the back of the room. Just me and Dustin. We ate dinner, had a few drinks, and then I was tired and went to bed.”

If I had to put money on it, Dustin was Rachel’s father. It could have been someone else at that wedding, but Dustin was the likely culprit. But I couldn’t say anything at this point.

“You didn’t dance with anybody or anything?” Kara asked.

“No. Just ate, had a couple of drinks, and went to bed.”

Kara clearly had the same idea that I had.

“Carla,” Jessica said, “there really isn’t much to talk about at this point. You believe one thing, and the three of us believe something else. Nothing we say will convince you and nothing you say will convince us. I think you and Rachel should leave now and not come back.”

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