Chapter 33

Sarah was sitting there, on the bed, holding a full glass of water in her hand, crying. I looked into the living room where the empty glass of water had been, and it was not there. Sarah had apparently used some form of telekinesis to bring it to her. That was unusual, but not so shocking considering her previously shown power of teleporting. They were similar. What was shocking was that the glass was full of water when it arrived. I knew it had been empty. I didn't even know what to call that. I wasn't sure Sarah had realized she had filled it also yet. Talk about activating powers! I didn't expect it to be that immediate.

I took the glass from her and took a big drink, slaking my thirst. Then I held it out to her to drink from also. Sarah looked at me as if I was crazy, but took the glass and sipped from it also. She smiled weakly at me through tear stained eyes. I took the glass and put it on the nightstand, then turned back around and took her into my arms, hugging her.

"I didn't mean to do that. I did it without thinking. That's scary!" Sarah said, her voice muffled as she hugged me tight. She didn't mention that the glass was full when it arrived. Just as I suspected, she hadn't realized the significance of that yet. I wasn't sure if I should bring it up to her and upset her more, or leave it alone. I decided she needed to know, no matter how traumatic.

"Sarah, honey, did you notice the other strange thing about what you did, about the glass when it arrived in your hand?" I asked gently. Sarah looked at me, eyes huge and filled with worry, her lower lip trembling as she considered that there was more to this.

"Oh God, now what did I do?" She asked, her voice breaking with worry. There was no easy way to let her down with this one.

"Well, honey, don't freak out now, but that glass was empty when it was in the other room. Now it's full." I hugged her, to try to relieve that anxiety. It surprised me when she laughed, although nervously.

"Yeah, right. Very funny. You're kidding, right?" Her face fell as she saw I was serious. "You were mistaken. You thought you drank it, but forgot that you didn't. Or you forgot you refilled it." She paused, a look of desperate pleading in her eyes. "I didn't really do that, did I? That's not possible, is it?" She whispered nervously.

"I'm afraid you did, dear. I know the glass was empty. I looked at it when I was complaining about not bringing it in. Remember I told you to forget it, it was empty anyway. I'm sorry, honey, but you somehow filled it when you brought it in here." I tried to be gentle with the news, but I soon had a crying girl in my arms again.

I finally got Sarah calmed down, and convinced her to try some tests to see exactly how this worked.

"Ok, Sarah, there is some stew left on the table that we didn't eat. Bring it in here to me," I requested. This time she seemed to concentrate a little, head tilted slightly. I yelled in pain as a hot pan of stew was suddenly in my hands. I set it on the floor quickly. That stew had been on the table for hours; there was no way it could still be hot. Sarah looked concerned at my yell. When she figured out what I was yelling about, she kissed my hand to make it better. Instantly, there was aloe cream and a bandage on my hand. Huh?

"I sure would like a glass of milk with my stew," I said. There was a glass of cold milk in my hand. Cold. As in from the refrigerator. Problem: we had no milk in the house. We had run out at breakfast. That was one of the things the girls were bringing home from their shopping trip. Sarah didn't realize that, as she had still been sleeping. I decided not to tell her that.

"Rats! I just remembered, I don't have a clean shirt for work tomorrow. I need to do laundry," I said absent-mindedly.

"What shirt do you want to wear? I can do the laundry for you," Sarah exclaimed, glad to help out.

"My pale yellow one; I have a meeting tomorrow," I told her. No I didn't. What's more, I didn't even own a pale yellow shirt. Sarah about jumped off the bed in shock when a pale yellow shirt appeared on the bed, washed and ironed. I checked and it was my size. Sarah looked about ready to cry again. We needed to get to the bottom of this.

"What were you thinking when you did that?" I asked.

"I was thinking that I wanted to get you a shirt ready for tomorrow. I remembered what kind. Then I just kinda asked myself if I wanted to do it now or later. I always do that, especially when I'm so comfortable sitting or lying down. I'm just a little lazy that way. I said now to myself, and it was there... OH! I see. Each time I said yes I wanted to do it now." She looked less upset.

"Ok, let's try something. I need pants too, but tell yourself you'll get up and do it in 5 minutes," I suggested. Sarah did as I asked, and we cuddled sitting on the bed, waiting to see what happened. Five minutes came and went and nothing happened. Sarah sighed with relief.

"Apparently, it only happens when you decide to do it right away. Now, let's ask for the pants, but don't ask yourself if you want to do it right away. Just get up and go do it." This was fun in a way. Well, for me... apparently not so much for Sarah.

I asked Sarah to get me some pants. She got up and went to get them. Nothing happened. Then, without asking me, as she later told me, she mentioned to herself in her mind that she really wanted the pants now. They were suddenly in her hands, cleaned and pressed. They were orange, however! Sarah fell on the floor, giggling hysterically.

"Want to let me in on the joke?" I asked, smiling with her. I was glad to see her having fun again. It took her a minute to be able to talk again.

"Well, I did as you said, and nothing happened. Then I mentioned in my mind that I wanted a pair of orange bell-bottom pants right away, and here they are!" She giggled. I was shocked that she even knew what bell bottoms were. Then she thought of something. "Did we have any milk in the refrigerator? I'm pretty sure you don't own any orange pants." I shook my head at both questions. She looked scared again.

Over the next hour or so, Sarah and I did a lot of experimenting. A pattern began to emerge on how this worked.

First of all, Sarah could do nothing like this with any type of living animal. Apparently, anything living, except for plants, was dealt with by the teleporting ability she had shown before. This power she was exhibiting now only dealt with plants and inanimate objects. The changes in the objects seemed to occur if she didn't specify exactly what she wanted. No specifics meant that the object appeared in the form it was to be used in. Hot stew, cold milk in a glass, cleaned and ironed shirt and pants. If she asked for wrinkled pants, she got them. If she asked for something that didn't exist in the immediate area, such as the pale yellow shirt I didn't own, then it appeared anyway, but we didn't know from where. I was glad the power didn't work on live animals, like humans. I had fears of Sarah calling someone, maybe accidentally, and making changes in them, intended or not. Although that might have been fun with Bandor and Carnella.

Once we had this figured out, at least as much as we could, Sarah was much calmer about it. She felt much less like a freak when she knew what was going on. It was a new experience dealing with Sarah on this subject. I was used to dealing with children who already knew they were unusual, and everyone around them in their family was just as unusual. It was different watching and helping a young girl realize that she was not like everyone else in the world. Somehow, she hadn't had to deal with that living with her sister, Rhonda and their parents. I wondered why.

Sarah was very grateful for my helping her through this, and she showed me how grateful over the next few hours. I obviously didn't ruin that gratitude by telling her that it never would've happened had I not been 'activating her powers'. It was a delightful time. I found myself marveling on several occasions how an inexperienced 14 year old could be so good at the things she tried in bed. Then I would realize that she had been watching me for years, and apparently her watching was directed almost exclusively to sexual situations. She was very experienced, just not personally. She was delightful.

Megan had said she would call before she and the girls came home. I'm sure they would've preferred just to come home and see what we were up to, but Megan knew how sensitive I was about certain subjects. It made no difference, because after exhausting each other all day, Sarah and I were so sound asleep that we never heard the phone ringing anyway. Assuming, of course, that Megan wasn't just telling us she called, having been talked into just coming home unannounced by those little voyeurs I called daughters. That would be Amy in particular, but all of them to a certain degree. Fortunately, Sarah and I had showered and gotten dressed before we fell asleep. The only thing they saw when they walked in on us was Sarah and I cuddled up together, holding each other tightly as we slept.

It didn't matter. Sarah couldn't have glowed any brighter had she been dipped in phosphorescent paint; she was that happy. I guess I probably looked pretty relaxed myself. It took about 3.9 seconds for everyone in our family to know what had gone on while they were gone. Of course, since they were all probably involved in setting it up, there was no big surprise there. There were big hugs and happy smiles all around. It was almost like a right of passage for these girls, one that they were intensely proud of. There were whispers and giggles everywhere, with Megan and Victoria as bad as any of them. I had no doubt that the whole story would be known by everyone in the house before the day was over. At least Rhonda hadn't sounded too upset when I had talked to her earlier. I now understood what her 'how fast can you run' remark had meant. Rhonda was the one I had been really worried about; Sarah was, after all, her little sister.

Sarah was actually feeling much better when they got home. Surprise, surprise. I guess there were two choices. Either sex is a great way to start feeling better, or it had all been a setup to start with by my sweet, wonderful girls to give her some 'quality' time with me. Knowing the females in my house, either one was as likely as the other. Not that I minded; I was getting used to the whole setup. Well, kinda. If I was setting up the universe, I probably wouldn't have arranged that 13-14 year old girls needed to have sex with their Daddy's to have certain powers activated, but that's what we were stuck with and I had to make the best of it. On second thought, maybe I would... it was fun, if you could get past the social taboos associated with it.

Things were pretty calm for the next few days. Sarah was so cute. She was so happy and it seemed like she was glued to me. If she was standing next to me, she held my hand. If I sat down, she was in my lap. She slept with me every night for almost a week, sometimes alone, usually with Megan. The other girls just watched with amused looks on their faces. They had all been there before, and they let Sarah have her time, enjoying the glow and the newness of it. After a few days, they sorted it all out. I've never figured out how they determined who slept where when. Most of the time, it was Megan and me. Sometimes, one or more of the girls would sleep with the two of us. Occasionally, just one girl would sleep with me and Megan would make herself scarce. I never knew where she went; spending quality time with one of the girls I assumed. Usually, at least 3-4 days a week, it was just Megan and me, though.

The other thing I could never figure out was why the schedule. Did the girls just sleep with me periodically because it was fun and they loved me, or was it some need they had, similar to the sex and cuddling they always seemed to need after intense action, to sort of recharge their batteries? It didn't make any difference to me; I was sure choice one figured in the equation somewhere in either case, but I was always curious about that. One of these days I would have to ask Megan about it.

Things were never boring around my family for long. I had about a week of dull, boring home life, just enjoying my role as Daddy and Boyfriend day and night, before life got interesting again. I was working in the office one beautiful Monday morning, doing boring paperwork, when the doorbell rang. Cindi called out that she would get it. I could hear voices too low to understand, one obviously Cindi's, and also unfamiliar male voices. I was just about to check out what was happening when Cindi walked into the office, a funny look on her face.

"Daddy... there are two men here to see you," she said quietly. She seemed awfully subdued, not the normal boisterous Cindi.

"Who are they, honey?" I asked, curious about how she was acting.

"Well... they say they are Secret Service agents," Cindi answered, somewhat breathlessly. Before I could even respond, my cell phone rang. The caller ID said it was my Dad. I decided to take the call first, before answering the door. Cindi assured me she had not let them in the house.

"Hi Dad. What's up?"

"Hi Son. Just wanted to give you a heads up, the Secret Service is on their way to your house. I checked them out. They are the real thing. It's ok to talk to them if you want," he informed me.

"Thanks, Dad. Any idea what they want?" I asked, foolishly. My Dad probably even knew their shoe size and whether they word BVD's or FTL's!

"Apparently, the President would like to talk to you. I'll let you get the details from them. Don't shoot them, Son!" Dad laughed as he hung up. Very funny, Dad.

I opened the front door to find two large men, dressed in the obligatory government type suits, standing there. I invited them in. They refused the offer of a seat, standing apart from each other as their eyes automatically swept the room, taking in everything. I saw them react slightly to the change in scenery as Amy walked into the room, about the same time Cindi left the room, presumably to spread the word on what was happening. The three of them looked at each other tensely for a minute, then I saw them all relax as they each recognized the presence of trained professionals. I saw the hint of recognition in the eyes of the agents as they looked at Amy. Apparently, they had seen her brief television appearance in Germany. Amy smiled and said hi, and for the first time I saw the ghost of a smile on their faces as they said hi back. Then the larger (?) one turned to me.

"Are you Patrick Phillips?" He asked.

"I am," I responded. In perfect unison, they both snapped out wallets, showing their Secret Service credentials for my inspection.

"Sir, the President of the United States would enjoy the honor of the presence of you and your family, at your convenience, at the White House," he stated formally. I had to admit, I was a little taken aback.

"We would be delighted, of course. May I ask what this is in reference to?" I asked politely.

"The President sends his apologies, sir, that he has been unable to personally meet with you and express his condolences concerning the death of your wife and your sister's husband before now, but he would like to invite you as his guests to do so at your convenience."

"Of course we would enjoy being there. Might I suggest next Monday? That would give the ladies time to find something appropriate to wear. I'm sure they don't have anything to wear!" That got a small smile out of both of them. Apparently, they were not only human, but married. It also got me a smack from Amy. That actually got a small laugh out of the agents.

"Please tell the President that there would be ten in our party, if that is not too many." I informed them. I deliberately left Rhonda and John out of the count. I figured they had met the President before, and besides, I was a little uncomfortable with having no one on the outside in case something happened. I figured I could justify Sarah's invitation on the grounds that she was an under aged guest that I did not want to leave home alone. I figured I would be dead if I left any of the girls, including Sarah, off the list anyway.

They assured me that would be fine, and we talked for awhile about security issues, protocol issues, and the like. Then, the big surprise came. I told them I didn't know exactly what time we would be there Monday, as it depended on what time we could get a flight out to Washington, D.C. Both of the agents looked offended.

"Sir, the President would never allow you to arrange your own flight there. You are a guest of the President, sir. He is actually going to be close to this area the previous day regarding another issue, and will stay in a hotel, leaving the next day. He has already arranged a limousine to pick all of you up at 8:00 am. It will take you to the airport, where you will meet the President and be his guests on Air Force One to fly with him to Washington. Since you will all join him for dinner, and it is likely it will be late before you would be ready to leave, he has arranged for all of you to spend the night at the White House. You will, of course, then be flown back and delivered to your front door again the next day." His voice dropped low, as if in apology. "I cannot necessarily guarantee the return flight would be on Air Force One with the President." He looked at me, as if asking if that was ok. Of course it was ok! He was the President, for heaven's sake! Then, I had a brilliant idea.

"If the President is going to stay overnight in town in a hotel anyway, then I insist, of course, that he spend the night here at our house. We have plenty of room. Will his wife and daughters be with him also?" I inquired. I knew the girls would just love meeting the President's twin daughters. At least they would have that in common. Of course, the girls were well aware that this was the second president in succession that had twin daughters staying at the White House. This President's daughters, however, were considerably younger than the previous one's had been. I think they were fifteen, if I remembered correctly.

"That is very kind of you to offer, sir. I will of course have to check that with the President's secretary. And yes, his wife Grace and daughters Valerie and Christina will be with him." I saw him smile as he noticed Amy unable to contain a little jump for joy as she clapped her hands quietly. He couldn't see the excitement of the other girls around the corner. Then, Amy broke protocol.

"Could you call him now and ask him if he could stay here?" She asked, all atwitter with excitement. The girls just loved the President's daughters, at least what they had seen of them in public. I heard Megan's gasp from the other room just about the same time I grabbed her arm.

"Amy! That is not polite! No, he will not call right now! The President is a very busy man; he will get back to us when he has time," I admonished her. She immediately looked chagrined as she realized that she had committed a social faux pas. She looked like she was going to cry. Amy just didn't know those niceties in society. Cindi, of course, would never have made that error, and would most likely tell Amy all about that in great detail later. I saw the lead agent smile patiently and hold up his hand to stop any further chastisement of Amy.

"Of course I can all him right now. He has arranged his schedule to be available at this time, in case there were some questions. Would you like to ask him yourself, young lady?" He smiled at the look of panic on Amy's face; I wondered if he knew he almost made her wet her pants? Then she showed what a grown up, mature girl she was.

"Um... I think it would be better if my sister Cindi talked to him. She knows the right things to say. I'd probably embarrass him and me and get a spanking from my Dad," she giggled nervously, blushing and looking embarrassed at the same time. I heard the soft gasp from out in the other room. Apparently, Cindi was listening too.

"Well, why don't you go get your sister? I'm sure she is listening anyway." He chuckled at the embarrassed giggle he heard from the other room. "I will put it on speaker phone and you can listen also. Don't be afraid of embarrassing him, Amy; the President has teenage daughters also. He knows what young girls are like." Amy was out of the room like a shot, looking for Cindi. I could hear them whispering in the other room. I distinctly heard Cindi tell Amy that they needed to wait a minute before they went back in, so the agents wouldn't know she had been eavesdropping. Right!

"That was very good," I told him. "You must have teenage daughters yourself. You really don't have to do this, you know. The President has other things to do, I'm sure."

"It's ok, really. The President actually gave us instructions to call him from here. He thought you might invite them to stay here. Besides, his daughters would never let him get away with not letting them talk to your daughters for awhile. I'm afraid they were quite captivated with Amy's stint on TV, and were just as impressed with Cindi from what they saw on TV at the funeral. Amy just managed to play into our hands perfectly so it looked like it was her idea." He grinned at me. Yep, he had teenagers!