Chapter 27: Back Again

Dianna led us into a room, holding the painting I had given her. I could see she had tears in her eyes, and I knew they were happy ones. I was pleased that I had managed to repair at least some of the damage I had done at the farm when I’d been so angry over the attack.

She walked to one side of the room, and I saw the photograph the painting was based on on the wall. It was yellowed and faded, in a small frame, and was about half the size of the painting.

Dianna took down the photograph and replaced it with the painting, taking care to ensure that it hung straight and wasn’t going to fall off the wall. She stepped back to admire it. The tears that had been gathering in her eyes escaped and rolled down her face.

I reached out and gathered her to me and held her for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry, Dianna,” I said to the top of her head. “What I said was cruel and uncalled for.”

She tilted her head back to gaze at me with her own set of golden eyes. “I had been hoping that we were making progress,” she said. “When you said those things, it was as if we were back where we started.”

I shook my head. “I have so much to sort out,” I said, still holding her. “I sometimes forget where I am with things, and people. You and I are in a much better place than we were.”

“But not back to normal?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I said, a small smile playing around my mouth. “But I do have a plan for that.”

I heard all the girls give a little gasp, and Mary moaned slightly. Waves of arousal hit me from both the twins. Dianne looked to them and then to me with confusion.

“Not yet,” I repeated. “But soon, I hope. One more thing. If you want to get back in Ness’s good books, stop calling her Vanessa. She doesn’t like it.”

“But it’s a beautiful name,” said Dianna.

“It is,” I said. “One day she may grow to like it being used, but for now she likes to be called Ness. You’re starting on the back foot if anything you say to her starts with ‘Vanessa... ‘“

She nodded, and we broke apart, moving into the kitchen where she started to serve the dinner she had cooked.

After we all sat down to eat, Dianna seemed eager to make conversation. “Maggie tells me that you managed to hold onto memories of a whole three years of study and assimilate them,” she said, her voice betraying some wonderment. “How did you do that?”

It was nice to hear that she was impressed with something I’d done that, finally, wasn’t tainted by some moral complication. Maybe that’s why I spilled the beans so easily. I told her all about reading my own mind and figuring out how to sort memories for more efficient storage. I told her how once I had ‘trained’ my brain to do it, it became automatic, and virtually any memory I took would get assimilated.

She looked disappointed for a moment, but then I saw the wheels start to turn. “So, if I’m right,” she thought out loud, “you could only do that with Telepathy. As an Empath, I wouldn’t be able to ‘retrain’ my memory storage. I wonder, though, if maybe you could help someone retain memories though– even a Norm, maybe.”

“It would be a long process,” I said. “I guesstimate it took me about twelve hours asleep and awake to assimilate that set of memories.”

“Would you be willing to experiment with one of our agents?” she asked. “She is about to go undercover and has a huge amount of information to assimilate. We can give her the memories of those who know it, but it’s no good because it all gets muddled. She’s trying to cram it into her head the old-fashioned way, but the window of opportunity for her insertion is closing. I don’t want to lose the chance, but I also don’t want to send her in if she’s not ready. Her safety is obviously my primary concern.”

“How long do we have?” I asked.

“A month at the most,” said Dianna. “Then it will be too late.”

“What does she need to learn?”

“She needs to be a certified accountant,” she said. “So far she has the basics down, but it’s effectively a two-year course she is trying to learn in two weeks.”

“I’m assuming you’ve got a real one on hand,” I said evenly. It would be baffling if they didn’t. The point I was making was that I’d need their consent too.

“We’ve got someone teaching her,” she confirmed. “It’s too slow, though. And yes, he’s on the inside. No issues there.”

“I still have my classes at the university,” I said, “although I will have more free time now I’m not wrestling.”

“You’ll get paid for your time too,” Dianna said. “The three thousand is literally a retainer. The hourly rate is one-twenty.”

“One dollar twenty?” I asked. “Isn’t that a little below union rates?”

“One hundred and twenty,” she laughed. “Doofus!”

“Okay then,” I said. “I’m back at PSU starting Monday. Let me get my new class schedule and see how much time I have available and then I’ll let you know. I should be starting my Healing training too, so my time is going to be tight, but I’ll manage. I’m starting to think I need a secretary.”

“I’ll do it,” said Amanda. “I could sit on your lap and take dick-tation.”

That got eye-rolls from pretty much everyone. Still, I sent her a little private jolt of gratitude and horny, which she appreciated. In turn, she gave me a subtle head-tilt towards Mary.

“Secretary-slave,” she sent. “She might be into it.”

As tantalizing as the thought was, I also briefly wondered which twin would take the actual work more seriously.

We finished the meal and, after spending time helping to clear up, we set out on our interrupted journey home. We arrived at the house just after nine.

Josh’s parents were still there, having planned to go home the following day. His dad, Steve, was about an inch shorter than me, with short blond hair and a stocky build. His mother, Cassandra, was much more rotund; the term ‘Rubenesque’ popped into my head, and it fit. She was about half a foot shorter than her husband, and also had blonde hair and blue eyes.

They stood to greet us as we piled into the house. I’d had to park on the drive since I’d lost the garage opener with my stolen truck. Jules had changed the code on the garage, but we hadn’t ordered a new remote yet.

“Mom, Dad,” said Josh, “this is Caleb, my ex-roomie and now my landlord, I guess. This is Mary, Amanda, and Jules.” I saw a glint of mischief in his eyes then he continued. “His girlfriends.”

“They are all your girlfriends?” asked Cassandra, her eyes wide.

“Not exactly,” I said. “But we are all together. And Josh...”

Josh looked at me, and I grabbed the nearest girl’s – Jules’s - hand and showed him the ring.

He grinned and Louise shrieked, causing us all to flinch. She came and threw her arms around the girls one at a time, insisting on inspecting the rings.

Rachel came out of her room, wondering what the fuss was about. She had a guy in tow. I wondered what that was all about. I saw Louise look across at Rachel; the look on her face when she saw the guy spoke volumes. She didn’t like him one bit.

Rachel came over and threw her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. “I’ve missed you,” she said before backing off and beckoning the guy over.

“Caleb,” she said. “This is Bruce. He’s a friend I met at the bookshop.”

Bruce didn’t look too pleased by the welcome that Rachel had given me, but held out his hand. I could tell I was in for a crushing contest, so I set up a TK ‘wrap’ around my hand that he would neither be able to feel nor crush. He could squeeze all day and I wouldn’t feel a thing. I decided to leave it at that, and not demolish has hand in return. I was probably a little too proud of myself for my restraint.

Eventually, I got bored with the comically-long handshake and pulled my hand out of his grasp. Neither of us had spoken, but I had ‘heard’ plenty.

Bruce had met Rachel at the bookshop, but only because he’d known she would be there. He knew Steve Jenkins, and had seen the video of the events in the coffee shop. Steve had told him where Rachel was and had given Bruce his blessing to go fuck the cunt if that’s what he wanted. He, Steve, declared himself finished with her, as though it had been his choice.

Having just seen another three girls enter the house atop the two he’d already met, he also resolved just moments ago to sample them all – except, perhaps, for ‘the dark-haired one,’ as he thought of her. She wasn’t to his tastes, although the thought of a threesome with the twins had him stiffening.

Like Steve, he had all kinds of charm, but unlike Steve, it wasn’t powers-based. He was just a player, and damn good at it. Fortunately, he had not managed to get into Rachel’s pants - yet. That had been his plan for the night, though, and it appeared that we had interrupted them just as things had been starting to get interesting.

I inserted a small tendril into his mind, and the Compulsion was set. I imagined Bruce adopting a particularly radical form of honesty in his interactions with Rachel.

Bruce moved from me and went back to where Rachel was standing.

“Come on,” he said. “It’s time you and me fucked. Steve says you were pretty good in bed.”

“Steve?” she asked, a look of shock spreading over her face.

“Steve Jenkins,” he said. “He said he was done with you and I could have a go, so let’s go. This dick ain’t going to suck itself.”

He went to grab her arm, but my hand got in his way.

“I think you need to leave,” I said quietly.

I saw the violent thoughts running through his head, but then felt two other people at my back: Josh and his father, who had both stepped up. Bruce yanked his arm out of my grasp and made for the door. As a parting gift, I imagined him completely – well, figuratively – forgetting about Rachel, and the rest of us. I locked it in too.

Rachel looked at me, stunned. “He knew Steve?”

“So it would appear.” I turned to Josh and his father. “Thanks for the backup.”

“No problem,” Steve - Josh’s dad, that is - said. “I can’t believe he actually said that out loud.”

Josh and Louise both looked at me, as did all my girls. The penny apparently had dropped.

“Are you all right?” I asked Rachel. I had thought she would be upset, but she was more angry.

“Fucking Steve Jenkins,” she hissed. “Who does he think he is, trying to pass me off to his friends? And to think I was...” she stopped suddenly blushing, realising what she was about to say. If Bruce had kept his mouth shut, he may well have got what he wanted that very night.

“Marjorie warned me about him,” she said. “I didn’t listen. She warned me about Steve Jenkins too.”

“Sounds like Marjorie is a good judge of character,” I said.

“She warned me about you as well,” she said, smirking.

“Then she is definitely a good judge of character,” I said. “Listen to her.”

Rachel laughed sadly, and then bade us all goodnight and returned to her room. I decided to let her be alone for a while. Later, though, I thought I might ask one of the girls to look in on her.

I went into the kitchen and made coffee for everyone. We sat in the living room and chatted to Josh, Louise, and Josh’s parents - who, after the initial shock, were interested in finding out about our unique arrangement.

When it was my bedtime, I caught Josh’s eye and we both went into the kitchen.

“What are the sleeping arrangements?” I asked. While we had been away, Josh’s parents had been using their room, and Josh and Louise had been using ours.

He shrugged. “I guess Lou and I will have to use the empty spare room.”

I checked in with the girls. “The bed is big enough for all,” I said quietly, “but it will be just sleeping. Will your parents freak out about it if they see it?”

“They go to bed usually about an hour after you,” he said. “They don’t tend to get up until after nine, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“They are going home tomorrow?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Okay then,” I said, before going back into the living room and bidding everyone a good night. I went to bed.

When I woke, the bed was more crowded than usual. Jules was to my right with Amanda behind her. Mary was on my left with Louise behind her. Josh was spooning Louise. Since it was still only four in the morning, I slid out of bed without waking any of them and made my way out onto the deck. It was cold. I determined that I needed to start training indoors.

It felt wrong not to have my canine audience laughing at me with their lolling tongues as I went through the moves. I had left the hot tub, Louise’s and Amanda’s cars, my truck, and Josh’s dad’s car all hovering an eighth of an inch off the ground. I had even lifted them using their wheels so that their suspensions wouldn’t look strange. I estimated that for the two hours I was training, I was keeping around twenty to twenty-five thousand pounds of ‘stuff’ in the air.

I finished training, put everything down, and showered. I was in the kitchen contemplating what to make for breakfast when Josh’s mom entered and looked at me.

“You’re up early,” she said.

I smiled at her. “I get up at four most mornings,” I said. Since it was just after seven, it was late to me.

“You’ve been up since four?” she asked. “Why?”

“I have to train,” I said. “I’m learning martial arts, and it’s the only time I get to practice that doesn’t really cut into my time with the girls.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. “I was going to make waffles.”

“You cook too?” she asked, the hint of a grin on her face.

I made a batch of batter and heated up the iron. In a few minutes she was sitting at the counter, eating waffles and bacon, and seeming to enjoy them both. That made me happy.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked. Since she had already asked several, I saw no harm in her asking another. I nodded.

“Are you fucking Louise as well as all your girls?” she asked, watching me closely for my reaction. Perhaps she was hoping for me to give myself away. I had learned by then how to keep my own face from showing emotion. I didn’t break stride, finishing off making my own waffles and bacon, which I sat down to eat.

“You didn’t answer,” she said.

“I agreed that you could ask,” I said. “I never promised an answer. My personal life is, with all due respect, none of your business.”

“It is if you are having sex with my son’s girlfriend,” she said.

“Nope,” I said. “It isn’t. If you want details of their sex lives, you have to ask them. My sex life is none of your concern.”

“I’ll find out, you know,” she said. “And if you are...”

I looked at her levelly.

“Are you threatening me?” I asked.

“Josh is happy with Louise,” she said. “If you ruin that then I will make your life a living hell.”

I prodded Mary to wake Josh and ask him to come join us in the kitchen. A couple of minutes later he and Louise walked in. I gave them both the memory of our conversation.

“Mom,” asked Josh, “what are you doing?”

“Doing?” she asked, all innocence. “I’m having breakfast with your landlord. What does it look like?”

“So, asking him if he was fucking Louise,” he returned, “and threatening to make his life a living hell is breakfast conversation, is it?”

Her jaw dropped. “You heard?”

“Yes, we heard,” said Louise. “Caleb has done nothing wrong. Josh and I are very happy together and Caleb is not interfering in any way.”

“Then why didn’t he just say so?” she asked, giving me a hard look.

“Because,” said Josh, “like he said; his sex life, along with mine and Louise’s, is none of your business. I don’t ask you about your and Dad’s sexual habits. What makes you think you have the right to ask about ours?”

“Because we...”

“Because nothing,” said another voice. We looked up and saw Steve standing in the doorway. I hoped Steve Jenkins was far enough in our rearview mirrors to give Josh’s dad his own name back. “I told you not to interfere, but you snuck out while I was in the shower. Are you determined to wreck another one of our sons’ relationships? James still won’t talk to you. Is one alienated son not enough?”

“I just want him to be happy,” she said, defensive and beginning the lip wobbling act - and it was clearly an act. She had no remorse at all.

Steve wasn’t buying it either. “No, you just want to stay in control of his life. He’s twenty years old, Cass. His private life should be just that: Private - at least from us. We’ve done our bit; the rest is up to him. If you can’t see it, Josh is deliriously happy with Louise, and she seems pretty smitten with him too. Who cares what they get up to in the bedroom and with whom? They make each other happy. Let’s leave them alone to make their own way. You can’t enforce your ideas of happiness on them.”

While he had been talking, I had made a stack of more waffles and bacon. I put some on a plate and handed it to him. Josh and Louise were already seated and digging into theirs. He sat down and began to eat.

“Would you like some more waffles, Mrs. Steele?” I asked politely.

She looked at me and then shook her head. “I need to get our stuff together,” she said, and left the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” said Steve. “She just doesn’t know when to stop.”

I smiled. “I have some pretty intense relatives as well. I’m used to it.”

He applied himself to his breakfast, accepting another waffle when offered. When he was done, he stood and held out his hand. “It was good to meet you. I’ll go and get that busybody and get her out of your hair.”

“Good to meet you too, sir,” I said, and he left the kitchen.

“Caleb, I’m...” Josh began.

I stopped him with a look. “Don’t say it,” I said. “Parents are always going to worry about you. Don’t be like your brother. Don’t not talk to your mom. She’s just scared to lose you, and wants you to be happy. Show her you are, and she’ll be happy too.”

An hour later, Josh’s parents had gone, and once again we were left to ourselves.

Rachel came into the kitchen, having stayed out of the way while the ‘row’ had been going on.

“Caleb,” she said. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” I said. “Will here do or...”

“Here is fine,” she said. “I have spent the holiday talking to Jamie, and I have had a couple of conversations with my dad. He says he understands what went on. You were right; someone showed him the video, and he said he was proud of me for standing up for myself, and showing everyone what a sleaze that man was.

“He knows that I’m living local to the university, and that I’m working. He doesn’t know where. He actually telephoned the bookshop to let them know I was okay, but they didn’t tell him either. I think I’m ready to see him now. Can I meet him here?”

I nodded. “Of course,” I said. “We can...”

“No,” she said, “I need you to be here. If things go wrong, I’ll need you.”

“When were you thinking?” I asked.

“He’ll be finishing in church around now,” she said. “I was thinking sometime today?”

I checked in with the girls. The consensus was the earlier the better - get it out of the way. I agreed.

“Whenever suits you,” I said. “Is Jamie coming too?”

She shook her head. “I thought it better if it was just him and me ... and you.”

“How much does he know?” I asked.

“He knows about the pregnancy and the termination,” she said. “He obviously knows about Steve, but not about everything else. I was planning to tell him the whole story and then see what happens.”

“How did he take that?” I asked. I figured if he was a church going man, he probably had ‘opinions’ on matters of ‘termination.’

“He was very calm,” she said. “I don’t know if that is a good or a bad thing. My mom will probably come too.”

Somehow, I had never considered a ‘mom.’ The dean had always just been the one in the picture. I’d never thought to ask about her mother.

“Okay then,” I said. “Make the call.”

Rachel’s phone was still not sending out her number, but he must have figured out that a call from a withheld number was his daughter. He answered on the second ring.

I went into the kitchen to let her have some privacy and started thinking about lunch. A few minutes later she came in.

“They’ll be here in an hour,” she said.

Suddenly, the girls, Josh and Louise had a hankering to go out for lunch. They were ready and gone in less than thirty minutes.

When the knock came on the door, I went into the kitchen, letting Rachel to answer it. I made a tray of coffees and waited. I thought it would take a few minutes for them to get the tearful reunion out of the way. I was wrong; they were still at it when I went back in, fifteen minutes later. The dean was standing by his daughter, who had a short, fair-haired woman clinging to her. I assumed it was her mother. The dean looked up from them as I entered the room, and his eyes went wide.

“Caleb Stott,” he said flatly.

“Coffee?” I asked, and placed the tray down on the coffee table.

Eventually, Rachel’s mother was persuaded to release her daughter, and they sat. They each took a chair, and I sat on the sofa. Rachel sat beside me, nervous.

Both parents were staring at me. I couldn’t determine their facial expressions. Their auras were full of fear, worry and anger. The anger appeared to be mostly directed at me.

“So, Mr. Stott,” said the dean affecting his sonorous voice as he had in his office on the occasions he had been accusing me of some wrongdoing. “Would you care to explain?”

“No,” I said, “but I think Rachel would.”

Rachel took a deep breath and began. She told them everything. They already knew she had taken up with a man, and that she had got pregnant and decided not to keep the baby. They didn’t know that he had dumped her in an out-of-town squat at the mercy of the people there.

She started at the beginning and didn’t leave any details out. Some of them I hadn’t known. She told them of the constant taunts in the squat, of having to beg for scraps to eat. She told them of the constant pressure for sex and how she had been thrown out of the squat with nothing but the clothes on her back.

Rachel explained how she had thought initially that he had sent Amanda and I to get her, especially when we were driving back toward PSU, but that when we got to the house, she was scared that something more sinister was going on. She relayed how, after she had been allowed to take a bath, she had come out in nothing but her robe and offered herself to me, hoping that it would be enough that I wouldn’t hurt her. She then told them my response.

She told them everything, in more detail than I had thought she would. She was undergoing a catharsis, and I could see how much she had needed to confess to them. All the time, I said nothing, and all the coffees went cold.

When it was done, both the women had soaked shirts and wet faces. The dean just sat, slack-jawed, staring at us both.

“I’ll get fresh coffee,” I said and stood.

When I came back with the fresh brews, I placed the tray on the table and played ‘mother,’ asking if each wanted cream and sugar before passing them out. They took them, but showed no real interest in the drinks.

During her soliloquy, Rachel had told them what I had told Jamie about why and how I had found her, but that apparently wasn’t enough.

“Why?” asked the dean, looking at me.

I cocked my head to one side. “Why what?” I asked.

“If you thought I was harassing you,” he said, “why would you do so much for my daughter?”

“The two were completely separate,” I said. “I heard there might be someone in trouble. I decided to see if she was, and if I could help. The fact it was your daughter had no bearing on the matter.”

“So, what now?” asked her mother, for some reason looking at me.

“That’s up to Rachel,” I said. They both looked at her.

“I’m back at work,” she said, “saving for my own place.”

“Why don’t you come home while you do that?” asked the dean. “You could save whatever you’re paying rent here.”

Rachel smiled softly. “Caleb hasn’t taken a penny from me, for rent, for food, for anything. He spent nearly a thousand dollars on me that first night buying me clothes and other necessities and hasn’t asked for a single thing in return. I practically threw myself at him, and he still didn’t take advantage. He told Jamie that I wasn’t ready to have sex, and she agreed. So, I lie in bed at night sometimes, listening to one or other of his girlfriends screaming as he pleasures them, and wonder what it is that is so wrong with me, that he can’t bring himself to touch me.”

“You know that there’s nothing wrong with you,” I said gently. “You were in a dark place, and that is not a place from which you can make good decisions. I’m sorry if we disturbed you. I’ll make sure we don’t again.”

“See?” she said, looking at her parents. “He’s just so nice. He’ll do anything to help ... except fuck me.”

Rachel’s mother gasped and her father colored, out of shock or anger I couldn’t tell.

“Rachel,” her mother said quietly, “Caleb is right. You are not in a good place to make those sorts of decisions just now. It also seems like you are a little bit fixated on him. Perhaps some time away would be good for you. Give you some time to heal, some separation. Caleb already has a ... some girlfriends. You want to find your own man, someone who loves just you.”

“I tried that,” Rachel said. “Look where that got me.”

I took Rachel’s hand and she looked at me.

“Rachel,” I said. “That first night, I said two things to you. Do you remember?”

She shook her head.

“The first was that you had a place here for as long as you needed it,” I said. “The second was that if a happy, healthy, and whole Rachel invited me to her bed, then I would be there like a shot. You were not that then, and I still don’t think you are even now. Lying in bed listening to me with the girls is not helping. I promised you could stay here as long as you needed, and I meant it. Perhaps, though, here is not the best place for you to be. Maybe some time with your parents will help you to put things into perspective, and help you become whole again. If you do that, and you still want to...”

I saw the dean draw breath as if to object, but his wife put her hand on his arm to quiet him.

“Then, we’ll talk,” I finished.

“You promise?” she asked.

“You know where we are at,” I said. “We can never be anything more than friends. If, when you are fully well again, you want that with benefits, then yes, I promise.”

She nodded and then looked at her parents. She blushed, as if realising only then that she had just been negotiating sex with me right in front of them. She looked nervous.

“Will you come home?” asked her mother. “Let us help you?”

Rachel looked again at me, and then nodded.

We spent the next forty minutes loading all her stuff into her father’s car. Fortunately, he had a large SUV so there was enough room. She had all the stuff I had bought her, along with some other things she had bought for herself since she started back at the bookshop.

After she cleared out her room and did one last check, she came over to me and pulled me into a hug. “I will have you, Caleb Stott,” she whispered, “even if it is only once.”

“Listen to Marjorie about men,” I said. “She has a good eye.”

“She has an okay eye,” she said. “She’s completely wrong about you.”

Rachel’s mother came over and pulled me into a hug. “Thank you for looking after her,” she said. “I don’t know why you did what you did. It makes no sense, but thank you.”

I shook my head.

The dean looked me up and down, as if seeing me or the first time.

“I,” he began. I waited. I had no idea what he was going to say. Apparently, neither did he.

“Thank you,” he said finally, and then just turned and got into his car.

I sighed as I went back into the house. It was a relief that Rachel was going back to her parents. They’d convinced me that it was the best place for her - and not only that, it meant that we would no longer have to tiptoe around the house regarding our powers.

As bad as it sounds, I was glad she was no longer my problem. I went into ‘her’ room and stripped the bed, throwing the sheets into the laundry. I remade the bed with fresh linens and was walking into the kitchen, having decided I was hungry, when the rest of the household came back bearing gifts. They had been for lunch and had brought me a takeout from where they had eaten.

As I ate, I shared the memory of the encounter with everyone.

“So,” I asked everyone as I finished up my lunch “What’s everyone’s plans for the afternoon?”

The girls, Josh and Louise all looked at each other.

“I’m going to be setting up and trying out my new microscope,” said Jules, and promptly disappeared into her workshop. She obviously thought that we were going to be getting up to something she didn’t want to get involved with.