Chapter 26

It was three o'clock in the afternoon on Friday when one of the John's from maintenance called upstairs to my father's secretary, looking for me. I was down on the loading docks, observing all the changes in the three o'clock route driver scramble. Now, each driver pulled into the yard and parked, handing his keys in to one of the warehousemen standing by. If there were product returns, a list of them was also given to the man taking the truck keys. It was slow at first, and very orderly, with trucks starting to come in by three, but the head man in the warehouse told me that many of the drivers were now coming in after four thirty. The biggest difference I noted was in the driver's attitudes. They weren't angry or upset, and they weren't racing each other to try to secure a more favorable place in the loading line for themselves. One of the warehousemen came over and asked me if my name was Kenny. When I indicated that it was, he pointed at a phone receiver sitting on the counter.

"This is Kenny."

"Kenny, this is Myra. Maintenance called and said those rooms are ready for you to look at now."

"Thanks, Myra. I'm going over to maintenance now."

When I got there, all three of the John's were waiting for me. They all had big smiles on their faces too. The John I'd given the money to told me that the rooms were ready for me to look at. He and I walked over to that part of the building. What I had hoped for was something nicer than what Miss Walters already had, something that she would be happy to move into because of all the extra room it gave her. When we got there, the first thing I noticed was a sign painted on the door that spelled out Bridget A. Walters. Underneath, in smaller letters, were the words: Account Reconciliation. It looked real nice the way they had done it. John unlocked the door and pushed it open, and then, with a bow and a flourish, he presented me with a key ring containing two keys. Engraved on the key ring was "B. A. Walters", again a nice touch, I thought.

Inside, I was amazed at the transformation that had taken place. The walls had been painted a muted ivory shade, there was a rich gold plush carpet on the floor, two nice paintings, one a landscape, and the other, some kind of Impressionist piece, were hanging on the wall, and all of the office furniture was made of a darker wood, perhaps mahogany, and it all matched well. There was a brown leather swivel chair behind the desk, and two other brown leather padded chairs sitting in front of it. Against one wall was a beige cloth sofa and a low coffee table. I recognized a brown metal mini refrigerator just to the left of the sofa. This office was at least as nice as my father's. A door now connected the two offices, and when John opened the door, I saw that, while less fancy, it was certainly more than adequate as a storage area for Miss Walter's files.

Next, we went over to the bathroom across the hall, and it had been freshly painted too, and there was also newly laid tile on the floor. To say that I was pleased would be an understatement. Everything looked first rate, better than anything I had asked for or expected.

"Wow. This is amazing. I can't believe you did everything so quickly. She's going to love it." I was glad I had brought another fifty dollar bill with me too, because I took it out of my pocket and handed it to John. "Thank you so much for doing such a great job. This exceeds all my expectations. I really appreciate it." John was smiling, obviously pleased with my reaction to the effort he and his maintenance cohorts had made.

"You let us know when you want that other place done up. We've got everything we're going to need for it. We traded a few things we didn't need for the TV and the wall mount, and we were able to get a really nice corner sectional too." He waved to me and left. I went over to the phone and pressed the internal line button. Edith connected me to my Dad's office.

"Hey Dad, you should see the new office they did for Miss Walters. It's nicer than yours. Do you want to see it, or should I show it to her?"

"It's your project, Kenny. Just make sure you're ready to leave by five o'clock. Your mother and I are having dinner at the club with Ron and Lois Jones tonight, at seven."

"No problem. I'll be outside your office before five. The route guys seem to like the new loading system too. Are you getting any reports of problems?"

"No, surprisingly no one is complaining about anything so far. Accounting was concerned about the extra commissions, but they hadn't factored in any of the savings we were making on increased sales per truck. After Art explained it to them, they stopped worrying about those commissions."

I walked down and over to Miss Walters office and knocked on her door. There was a delay, but finally she told me to come in. When I opened the door, she was standing and smoothing down her skirt with both hands. There was a definite smell of female arousal in the air. I pretended not to notice it, but the thought that she had been in her office, playing with herself, that was more than a little bit exciting to me. Even adults did that, I thought.

"Hi Miss Walters. Maintenance finished working on a new office we thought you might like. I wanted to show it to you to see if you like it better than this one. There's a lot more room."

"Really? After you left the other day, I figured that was the last I'd hear about getting more room. That's the way it usually works around here. No one ever follows through. Where is this new office?"

"It's upstairs over on the same side as accounting, but not so close that they'd be bothering you all the time. The office is on the fourth floor, so you'd still have a one floor separation from them."

"Who else is on that floor? I don't remember any other offices on the fourth floor. Isn't that floor used just for storage?"

"I found out from my Dad's secretary that the fourth floor used to be the executive floor, before they moved everyone up to the sixth floor. There are some nice rooms up there being wasted. Come take a look. I'm sure you'll like what we've picked out for you, but if you don't, you can stay here until we find you something you do like. Dad already told me to keep you happy. He doesn't want you to feel crowded or upset." I could see that she had doubts and concerns about what I was telling her, but she did come around her desk, grabbing her purse, and following me as I led the way.

It took us about three minutes to walk over to the other side of the building, and up a single flight of stairs. We turned right in the hallway and walked about fifty feet to her office door. I paused in front, while she had a chance to read her name and job description painted on the office door. I handed her the new key ring with my own small bow and flourish. I wasn't above learning from the John's. She opened the door, took one look at the carpet and room appointments, and then she started crying. I wasn't expecting her to do that.

We spent the next ten minutes slowly and carefully examining everything in those two rooms and the bathroom. When she was done examining everything, I got a hug and at least thirty fervently spoken thank you's from her. To say that she loved having her own, private, bathroom would be to grossly understate the obvious.

"I can get maintenance to get everything moved for you whenever you're ready. If you'd rather keep your old desk, we can change this one for yours."

"No. This one is perfect. I'm really overwhelmed that your father did this for me. I never expected anything like this."

"He considers you a very valuable employee, and he made it very clear to me that he didn't want you upset because we didn't give you something nice enough. That bathroom is yours alone too. Only the janitorial staff has another key. Call John, in maintenance, if you need anything changed. He's also the one who put your office remodeling ahead of all his other scheduled jobs. We weren't expecting this to be done until next Friday. They gave it top priority for you."

I walked with her back to her old office. She told me that she'd like to be moved in on Monday, and she would take care of moving everything but her filing cabinets. The whole time we were walking, she was telling me how appreciative she was that someone had finally noticed her plight and taken steps to improve things. I felt pretty good about pleasing her like that. It hadn't been my original intent, but, still, it was good that it had worked out that way. Just the fact that she thought she was valuable enough to the company for us to do this for her, had to be a good thing, and would make her feel more appreciated.

When we got back home, Dad went up to get changed to go out to dinner, and Mama was already getting herself ready. I called Shirley, and asked her if she felt like playing nine holes with me. As soon as she got back from checking with her mother, I ran downstairs to see if Hans was able to give me a ride. Hans was gone, but Gerta said she could drive me. We went over to Shirley's house and picked her up before heading over to the club. We teed off on the back nine at five fifty, and managed to finish up at seven fifteen. Shirley and I both played quickly. We did some kissing over on the tee at the fourteenth hole, but that was only because Shirley was paying me off for my birdie at the thirteenth. We didn't do any touching, because Shirley was worried about someone seeing us out there. When we were done, I saw Hans waiting for us. He was sitting at an outside table over by the snack bar, having an iced tea while he waited.

He had the limo, and I asked Shirley if she needed to go straight home, or if she wanted to ride around for awhile. She decided to ride around with me. After we were settled in the back, I checked the ashtray, and there were three rubbers stuffed in there. That was one of the things I liked about Hans. He was always an optimist. Once Shirley had satisfied herself that people couldn't see us inside, because of the tinted windows, she relaxed, and let me touch her while we kissed. We were doing a whole lot of kissing, touching, and rubbing, but, every time I tried to get under her blouse or inside her panties, she'd stop me, telling me to go slower. I could tell she was as excited as I was, but she still wouldn't let me do more than rub her outside her blouse, or over her panties. I had placed her hand on my dick, early on in our make out session, but she wasn't doing much more than maintaining contact with it. She wasn't squeezing it, or trying to fish it out of my pants. finally, I stopped trying to make further progress with her.

"What's the matter, Shirley?"

"I don't feel comfortable like this, I'm sorry. I need to feel safe before I let you do things. Suppose we get in an accident or something? What do you think our parents would say if we got killed in a wreck, and they found your hand inside my panties?"

"Something like 'At least they died happy'? How do I know what they'd say? We aren't going to crash. Hans is a very good driver. If we did crash, we wouldn't be killed anyway, because we're only going about thirty miles an hour."

Shirley had slapped my arm when I said that about dying happy, but she giggled when she did it. I used the intercom to tell Hans to drive us to Shirley's house. We were both sitting up straight while driving over there. I wasn't mad or upset with her, just excited, but I think that Shirley mistook my excitement, tinged with a little bit of frustration, for me being upset.

"Kenny, you shouldn't be mad just because I wasn't comfortable doing a lot in this car."

"I'm not mad. I was trying to figure out someplace where we'd both be comfortable, that's all. There are those things we talked about that I'm pretty anxious to do."

"I am too. I didn't want to do them in a car though." I listened to what she said, starting to calm down, as my blood started circulating more normally again. I had been letting my passion do my thinking for me again, concentrating on the excitement and the adrenaline that was urging me forward. Thinking back, I could see how pushy I might have seemed to her, especially since I was constantly trying to override her very clear protests and objections. I could see why she thought I was angry too. "I'm sorry, Shirley. I got too excited. I shouldn't have tried to keep going, not after you wanted me to stop."

"I didn't want you to stop. It's just that I'm not comfortable in this car, and with someone else here with us too. If it was dark, and we were all alone, it would be different." I turned to her and smiled.

"Today's my birthday, I'm sixteen."

"You should have told me, I would have gotten you a present. How come you aren't having a party or anything?"

"We don't have parties for birthdays. I don't think we even celebrate them. We didn't at the orphanage either, but I thought most regular families did."

"We sure do. We always have at least a cake with candles, and some ice cream. We sing the happy birthday song too."

"I don't mind not celebrating, but it seems like no one even remembered it was my birthday." We had pulled up in front of Shirley's house. I got out with her and walked her to the door. We did a little kissing, but not like we'd done in the limo. Shirley didn't even open her mouth when I tried to worm my tongue inside. I was just going to tell her goodbye, when she surprised me and told me no one was home, and invited me inside. The way she asked me sounded very promising, and I felt my dick coming to attention.

She put her key in the lock and turned it. As soon as she opened the door, all the lights came on and people inside were all yelling "Surprise!" and "Happy Birthday!" at me. I saw Mama and Dad, Uncle Bunny and Elizabeth, and Jane and Grace too. Gerta was there, and Hans clapped me on my shoulder as he moved me aside, to go take his place next to Gerta. I saw another woman, one with very short, and very dark, hair. She looked really familiar to me, even though I didn't recognize her, not until I heard her speak. It was Sister Clara, but she wasn't dressed in her habit now, and she looked a lot different dressed in regular clothes. For one thing, she had a really good shape on her. I blushed at having thought something like that about a nun, especially a nun that I was related to.

I saw Brenda then. She was standing in a corner, by herself. She was smiling, but it was a very nervous smile. I think she was afraid I'd yell at her, or cause some kind of a scene. I was too happy that they had remembered it was my birthday to worry about my problems with Brenda. She looked wonderful, but she always did, but I can't say that I wasn't affected by her presence. I saw Mrs. Connor next to Mama. Shirley's parents were there too, and both her brothers. Mama came over and wrapped me up in one of her tight bear hugs. Without letting me go from her hug, she leaned up, and started whispering in my ear.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Please be nice to Brenda tonight. I didn't have the heart not to include her in our celebration. It's just for tonight."