Chapter 21: Thanksgiving

“Will you quit worrying! It’s not that big a deal!” said Peter for about the twentieth time since they had left Lauren’s house. It was early Wednesday evening, the day before Thanksgiving, and Peter was driving Lauren’s minivan, with the children in the seats behind them, to his parent’s home. “It’s just Thanksgiving dinner.”

Lauren knew it wasn’t just Thanksgiving dinner, it was an audition. She had done this once before, with Gary, traveling with him to Thanksgiving dinner, but she had been younger then, and naïve. She hadn’t realized then that it was more than just Thanksgiving dinner; she knew better now. In some ways it was even worse - now she had two children along with her. What if they didn’t like her? What if they didn’t like Jimmy or Holly? What if they thought she was too old for Peter? What if they thought he was jumping into an entire family? What if...

“How much longer, Peter? Are we almost there?” asked Jimmy. He had noticed they had left the highway and were moving into a town.

“Just five minutes more. We’re almost there,” was Peter’s easy reply.

Lauren came out of her nervous reverie and looked around. Springfield was about three hours north of Union Valley, and she had left work early, so that they could leave as soon as the children got home from school. Now it was just after seven. What if his parents thought they were arriving too late, and thought it was her fault? It was her fault, after all. The children were hers. What if they didn’t like the children?

Lauren never even noticed that Peter had pulled into a small development and parked the car, or that he had gotten out and come around her door. She only looked up at him when he pulled her door open and looked in at her. “Will you settle down?” he said with considerable exasperation. “They’re both in their seventies. It’s really doubtful they can chase you down and beat you to death. Now, are you coming in, or not?”

With a degree of trepidation bordering on terror, Lauren climbed out of the minivan and stepped to the rear, where her children had already opened the tailgate and removed their luggage. Unlike their mother, they considered the entire event a grand adventure, a chance to get away from home on a sort-of-vacation. Peter had quite wisely pushed this interpretation, and Lauren had little choice but to agree and go along with it.

Peter grabbed both his and Lauren’s bags and led the way up the walkway. Before he had even gotten to the stoop, the door opened, and a small woman pushed the storm door open wide. “Come on in!” sounded out cheerily. Lauren looked past the woman, obviously her lover’s mother, to find a large man standing further inside, looking out curiously. “Don’t just stand there, come on in!”

Peter stepped aside, and Jimmy barreled in, zooming past Peter’s mother, and stopping before Peter’s father, who silently directed him into the living room and out of the way. Holly came by next, and she took considerably more time. She stopped directly in front of Peter’s mother and said, “Hello. How do you do?”

“Just fine, honey. Come on in. You can put your bags upstairs.” She pointed back into the small foyer towards her husband, standing near the staircase.

Holly continued her little journey and stopped before Peter’s father. “Hello.” His father mumbled something unintelligible, and Holly’s little face screwed up in confusion. “Hello. I didn’t understand you.”

Peter’s father cleared his throat and seemed to stand a little taller and more erect. Lauren noticed that he was leaning on a cane. He spoke again, clear enough to understand, but with a definite slur to his speech. “I’m sorry. I said, ‘Hello. What’s your name?’”

Holly smiled up at the older man. “My name is Holly. What’s your name?”

“You can call me Big Frank.” Big Frank was in his mid-seventies, a tall man now stooped, large boned and stocky.

“Hi, Big Frank. You talk kind of funny. What’s wrong with your voice?” the little girl asked.

Lauren gasped in embarrassment, but Big Frank simply waved it off. Raising a hand, he ran it along the right side of his face. “I had a stroke last year and it makes it a little difficult to talk at times.”

“Does it hurt?” asked Holly, concern in her voice.

Big Frank smiled. “No.”

“Well, if you need any help, just ask,” she answered.

Big Frank smiled gently and thanked the little girl, then directed her up the stairs and down the hall. It seemed as if the more he talked, the better he sounded, but it might have been that Lauren was getting used to the slurred diction. He turned back to the others and gave his son a vigorous handshake, shifting his cane to his other hand. Peter had already wrapped his mother in his arms and given her a backbreaking hug. “Welcome home, boy.”

Lauren was introduced to both his parents. Peter’s mother, simply known as Momma, was as small as her husband was big. She was also in her seventies, a bantam chick several inches shorter than Lauren, almost skinny, and if she weighed a hundred pounds Lauren assumed it was dressed and carrying weights. It was also obvious that she was the power in the household. She announced that Lauren’s room was upstairs and down the hall, in Peter’s old room, and that Peter and Jimmy were bunking in the twins’ old room downstairs. Lauren hadn’t been aware that Peter had twins in the family but was not at all surprised to learn that she and Peter were being separated. Well, she hadn’t thought that his parents were going to let them cohabitate in their household, and she wouldn’t have anyway, not with the children around.

Dinner was pizzas, ordered in shortly after their arrival, and while waiting, Momma took Lauren and the kids on a tour of the house. Peter stayed in the living room with Big Frank, who had quickly made his way to a rocking chair and sat down in it. Momma explained, “It was last year, right before Christmas, when he had the stroke. We thought he was going to die, but he’s come back pretty good. You just have to listen carefully to understand him. I’m so used to him by now, it’s almost like shorthand. We don’t even have to speak.” She gave a bright smile at this, and Lauren’s nervousness began to dissipate.

It really struck her, like never before, the age difference between her parents and Peter’s. Lauren was just thirty-three and the oldest child in her family, and her parents had married right after her father had returned from Viet Nam, when he wasn’t even twenty-one yet. They were only in their early fifties. Peter, on the other hand, was the baby of the family, and Momma and Big Frank had waited until they were in their mid-twenties to marry, and they had waited before having children. They were in their early-to-mid-seventies, almost twenty years older than her parents, with all the infirmities of age to be expected.

The Tallman’s house was a mid-size split-level with a brick facade on a corner lot. Momma led the way upstairs, with Lauren following and Peter trailing with Lauren’s luggage. They went down the hall to a bedroom opposite the master bedroom and Momma ushered them inside, explaining this was to be Lauren’s room. It was painted in a startlingly bright shade of magenta. Peter made a comment about it being ‘The Pepto Bismol Suite’ at which his mother sheepishly admitted that ‘ ... it looked different on that little paint chip... ‘ “This used to be Peter’s room, and before that, Little Frank’s.” It took a bit before Lauren realized that Little Frank must have been an older brother.

Momma shooed Peter out while Lauren sorted out her bags and explained that Little Frank was the first resident of the room. The next child was their first daughter, Melanie, who took the next room down the hall, where Holly was staying. The next child happened to be twin boys, George and Mark, and since they couldn’t fit three into Little Frank’s room, they converted the garage into a bedroom. That was the room that Peter and Jimmy would share during their visit. The next child was another girl, Susan, who shared Melanie’s room. Finally, when Peter came along, Little Frank was only a couple years from graduating high school, and they simply kept him stuffed away somewhere until that room was freed up. It took Lauren several head-scratching questions before she got the entire lineage sorted out.

The pizza arrived and the family headed down to the dining room. It was a late supper for Lauren and her children, and the two youngsters were clearly tired by the time dinner was finished. She led Holly up the stairs to help her get changed and get used to sleeping in a different bed. Jimmy went downstairs on his own. Once Holly had settled in, she grabbed a robe and pajamas from her bags and went down the hall to the bathroom, for a late shower.

Within a half hour, cleaned and dressed, she took her clothes back to her room, then crept back down the hall. Big Frank and Momma had retired for the night, and no light was leaking from under their door, and she didn’t want to wake anyone. She knew that she and Peter were going to be celibate for the duration of their stay, but she still wanted to kiss him good night. She found him sitting in an overstuffed armchair in the family room, near the bedroom he was sharing with her son.

Peter smiled as he looked up at her. He tossed aside the magazine he was reading and said, “Well, that’s an interesting outfit.”

Lauren had been stumped by what to wear at nights. When she was at home with the children, she typically wore long and worn flannel nightshirts. Alone with Peter, she wore very sexy negligees, if she wore anything. In the bottom of a dresser drawer, she had found a pair of sapphire blue satin pajamas that Gary had given to her. His tastes had run more to the negligees and nudity that Peter preferred, so the pajamas were practically brand new. Over her pajamas she wore a long and heavy silk robe in a kimono pattern. “Do you like it? I wasn’t at all sure what to wear,” she admitted.

“It’s beautiful.” He patted his knee and held out his hand to her. Lauren sat down on his lap, facing sideways, and curled up in his arms. “Still nervous?” he asked gently. He began tracing her spine with his fingertips through the layers of silk and satin.

“It’s okay, I’m all right. It was just ... scary, I guess. The kids are settling in just fine. Jimmy?” she asked with a glance at the door to the twin bedroom.

“Out like a light,” replied her lover. Peter slipped a hand inside her robe and cupped a large and warm breast through the satin of her pajamas.

Lauren squirmed pleasantly, but said, “Peter, we can’t. What about your parents?”

He began to unbutton her pajama top. “They sleep like the dead, and they’re both hard of hearing.”

Lauren’s pussy began moistening fiercely. “Jimmy...”

Peter grinned. “Get up,” he ordered. Lauren stood, and Peter crept to the door, then turned a lock. “This used to be the garage, and the doorknob is still facing the wrong direction. You can lock people inside the bedroom. I used to lock the twins in there all the time!”

Lauren gasped in surprise at this. “Why’d they leave it like that?”

Peter shrugged. “I think they liked the excuse to crawl out the bedroom window and try to chase me down and beat me up. I used to be pretty fast when I was little! Momma never let them leave any scars, anyway.” He took her by the hand and led her over to an old couch along one wall. “Now take off your pants,” he commanded. Lauren opened her robe and slid her pajama bottoms to the floor. The top covered her very aroused and wet pussy, but only by the tiniest bit. “Now, if you feel like screaming, let me know. I’ll put something in your mouth.”

Lauren laughed and sat on the couch next to him. She immediately began undoing his belt and tugged his pants down to his knees. “Well, I’d hate to make you do something like that. I’ll just have to control myself ... unless you can manage to make me lose control, that is.”

Peter pulled her down so that she was lying atop him. Lauren’s pajama top and silk robe were open, and she pulled his shirt up his chest so that her tits were rubbing against him. Peter positioned her so that her legs were spread and her pussy lips were brushing the tip of his erection, then arched his back to bury himself in her cunt. Lauren let out a blissful, quiet moan, and shifted around so that her cunt fully engulfed him, then began to slowly squirm around. Together they moved slowly, in a quiet and intense fuck, which only became more intense when Peter reached under the robe and slipped a finger into Lauren’s ass.

Lauren moaned appreciatively. “Losing control yet?” asked Peter. “I can stop if you want.”

“Don’t you dare, you son of a bitch!” she hissed back. “You stop now, and I’ll cut that thing off and keep using it!”

“Son of a bitch? I’m going to tell my mother you said that!” he replied. Then it was Peter’s turn to moan, as Lauren’s squirming began to overcome his own control. She was in the middle of a particularly excellent orgasm when her spasming pussy drove him over the edge. He unloaded into her pussy, sending blast after blast upwards as she rode him.

Afterwards, as they lay snuggling naked on the old couch, Peter smiled at her and asked, “So, screwing your boyfriend on a couch in the basement, while his parents were upstairs - does this remind you of the old days?”

Lauren practically brayed out a laugh before she managed to cover her mouth with a hand. She snickered as she answered, “Hell no! Then I was simply great in the sack, now I’m spectacular!”

“I’ll say!” he agreed.

“What about you? Is this where you did your girlfriends, or did you manage to sneak them into your bedroom upstairs?”

“Ah, you forget, I was a virgin in those days. I didn’t lose it until college, remember?”

Lauren pressed. “What, you never brought girls home? Never picked up chicks when home summers?”

“Well, no, not like this. I mean, yes, I dated when I came home, but I never screwed around here.” Peter felt uncomfortable with the conversation, so he ended it abruptly. Holding Lauren, he rolled over so that she was laying beneath him. “You talk too much. I think you should be concentrating on something other than talk.”

Lauren smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him in, and lifted her face up to be kissed. They continued kissing, tongues dueling as they devoured each other, until Lauren felt Peter’s cock stirring. As it slowly filled with blood, she spread her legs wide, and moved so that it would find easy passage into her cum-slickened pussy. “Now, let’s see if you’re spectacular, or just great,” she said. Peter simply laughed and began moving above her.

The next morning, Lauren woke in her bedroom across from Momma and Big Frank. Sitting up, she rubbed her back, then climbed out of bed and stretched. She wasn’t sure whether this was Peter’s old mattress, or somebody else’s; it was decidedly lumpy. She stifled a groan, then wrapped her robe about her and stepped out into the hall. Sounds from downstairs proved that she wasn’t the first up, so she slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower. Back in her room, she quickly dressed in jeans and a sweater, and went downstairs to see who was up.

The only ones up so far were Momma and Big Frank. He, at least, was dressed in old khakis and a flannel shirt, puttering around in the kitchen, but Momma looked a little frazzled and was wearing a very old and comfortable looking velour robe. “Morning?” she said brightly. “Want some pancakes for breakfast?”

“Sounds good to me!” her son remarked, climbing up the stairs from the family room. He looked very tired.

“Didn’t you sleep well?” asked his mother.

Lauren bit her tongue and gave him an innocent look. Peter simply shrugged and ignored her, then went up the steps to the bathroom. They heard water running shortly afterwards.

Momma ignored her son and asked Lauren, “When do your children get up?” a pointed reference to the hour.

Holly came skipping down the stairs at that point. “Hi! What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes and bacon. Do you like that?” asked Momma, smiling at the sunny little girl.

Holly nodded. “Can I help?”

Lauren left Holly with their hostess and went down to wake Jimmy. He was a grumpy riser, and she didn’t want Momma or Big Frank seeing him at his worst. She managed to get him out of bed and up the stairs with a minimum of fuss, though dire imprecations were uttered if he even dared to consider thinking about being less than lovable and charming.

Breakfast consisted of bacon, sausage, and numerous large stacks of pancakes. As always, Holly was bright and happy, and Jimmy was grumpy. Lauren said, “Don’t bother praying to Jesus, buster. You are about to meet him personally!” Amidst the laughter, Jimmy’s eyes widened, and he shut his mouth, then began digging into his pancakes.

After breakfast, Jimmy went back downstairs to dress, and Lauren went upstairs to help Holly get dressed. The two females came back down to the kitchen to find Momma unwrapping a very large turkey. “What do you need me to do?” asked Lauren. She grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist. Momma glanced at the apron approvingly and directed Lauren to take the makings of the stuffing out of the refrigerator.

“Can I help?” asked Holly.

Momma smiled. “Maybe you should just sit on that stool for a bit. I’ll bet we’ll need you shortly.” Lauren rolled her eyes at this and grinned at her hostess. At that moment, Peter and Jimmy wandered through. Momma turned to her son and told Peter, “Go downstairs and help your father with the oysters.”

“Oysters?” asked Lauren.

“For the oyster dressing,” replied Peter. He looked down at Jimmy and said, “Want to help? They’re gross and yucky and we get to play with knives!”

“Cool!”

“No knives!” ordered Lauren.

Peter ignored her and shepherded Jimmy down to the utility room. “Hey, that’s why the Good Lord gave him ten fingers, so he’d have some spares when he cut them off.”

Lauren and Momma spent much of the morning getting the kitchen ready, while Momma ordered the men of the household in setting up the dining room table for the buffet dinner. Several small card tables were sent to the family room for the children. The adults typically ate around the living room. Despite her constant series of complaints to all and sundry that this was becoming too much work and that this was going to be the last year she was doing this, Lauren quickly realized that her hostess was loving every moment. She was the queen of her domain, at home where she was comfortable and reigning supreme, soon to be surrounded by her entire family. She had no plans to stop short of death or disease.

By three in the afternoon, everybody began dressing for the party, since family members normally showed about four. Lauren dressed in a light sweater and her long suede skirt and knee boots, then supervised her children. Holly wore a dress with white tights, Jimmy some clean slacks and a dress shirt. She was passing through the living room when the doorbell rang, and somebody began turning the knob. She hurried to open the door, only to be bowled over by a pair of children, a boy Jimmy’s age and a girl who looked to be about four. The girl looked at her curiously before continuing into the kitchen with cries of, “Grandma! Grandma!”

They were followed by a short woman about Lauren’s age. She was exceedingly pregnant. Her husband trailed behind. “Hello,” she said to Lauren.

At that point, Peter stuck his head around the corner and said, “Jeez, Sue, didn’t Mom teach you to cross your legs?” Lauren blushed.

“I hate you, Peter,” was the sassy reply. “I hate all men.”

Her son turned to her, an impish smile on his face. “Me, too, Mom? I’m a man, too.”

“Yes, dear, I hate you too.” She took any sting out of the words by leaning over and kissing him on the forehead.

“And Dad?” he pressed.

“Especially your dad!”

The boy wandered off into the kitchen, melodramatically shaking his head and rolling his eyes, while making the universal ‘Crazy’ sign, a finger twirling around his ear. “Mom’s completely lost it!” he told his grandfather.