Coming Home: Book 1
Chapter 4: Fairy tales and unhappy endings
Copyright© 2007 by Brendan Buckley
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 4: Fairy tales and unhappy endings - A man returns to the town he left 20 years before to find that sometimes time doesn't heal all wounds. His old friends have new lives and the people he left behind aren't the same as he hoped to find. Can he enjoy a rebirth in the town where he was born?
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa
It was one of her grandfather's rare good days when Stephanie stopped to visit that afternoon. His eyes were full of mischief and, for a minute, she wished her mother were here to see it.
Grandpa had been having a rough time of things. He was so forgetful sometimes that he didn't even recognize Stephanie. Sometimes he confused her with her mother at the same age.
Today was a mixture of good and bad. His mind seemed sharp but he was still focused on 15 years before.
"You look so much like your mother when she was your age," he had told the 10-year-old little girl. "She had so much joy in her life. She would laugh and play and sing all day long. I hate to see her the way she is now."
Stephanie had only seen the dour, lifeless part of the woman she called her mother. She seriously doubted there ever was as much mirth in her mom's eyes as her grandfather believed. But he was adamant.
"You don't believe me, sweetheart?" he asked. "I'm going to tell you a little story, but before I do I want you to promise you won't repeat it unless you really think you need to."
Stephanie quickly promised because her grandfather's stories had always brought a smile to her face when she was a small child. But that was before he started forgetting things. Still, she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity for a chance at one of her granddad's tales.
"This is a story about what happens when you decide to make others live the life you want from them, honey," he told her sadly. "I want you to promise to live your own life. If anyone says anything about your choices you tell them your grandpa said it was OK for you to just be you.
"This is a story about a princess and a prince and a queen. But it's not set in the days of castles and dragons. No, it's set today. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess — let's call her Janet. Janet lived in a house beside the river. On the other side of the river lived a handsome prince, we'll call him Shawn.
"Shawn and Janet grew up together and before too long they fell in love. It looked like a love to end all loves because everyone thought Shawn was the nicest prince they had ever known. And everyone thought Janet was the sweetest princess they'd ever seen.
"Shawn was very popular. He was tall and strong and educated and had a wonderful smile and a hearty laugh. But his kingdom didn't have very much money. Janet was just as smart as Shawn. She was the most beautiful girl in the whole kingdom. But one day, Shawn's mom, also a queen, decided to move to a new kingdom far away.
"Janet was heartbroken, but every few days a letter from Shawn would arrive and Janet was happy again. But the first queen, Janet's mom, wasn't happy. She wanted Janet to be the most powerful princess in the land. When Shawn was around, there was no doubt that with him by her side, Janet would reach all the dreams her mother, the queen, had for her.
"But when Shawn left, the queen started to look around for another prince to claim Janet's heart — a rich prince since she knew Janet would always love Shawn. Janet still longed for Shawn and they made plans to be together again as soon as possible. Janet's mom couldn't allow that. Because if Janet and Shawn got married they would move away and she would never see any of her grandchildren and Janet would never be rich.
"She convinced another prince to start visiting Janet. But Janet refused to speak to him because she still loved Shawn and the new prince wasn't very nice. Janet's mom wouldn't be denied though. She started to steal Shawn's magical letters from the mailbox so Janet would be sad. Then she started to steal Janet's letters to Shawn so he would be sad, too. The queen made sure to tell Janet how mean Shawn was because he forgot about her.
"The king liked Shawn a lot more than the new prince. His daughter was as happy as can be whenever Shawn was around. But the king was too silly to see what the queen was doing and by the time he found out, he couldn't stop it. The damage had already been done.
"Shawn and Janet were broken apart because the queen decided her happiness was more important than the princess'. The queen wanted money, and to see her grandchildren grow up close by, more than she wanted Janet to have a good life. It's a sad story, but it's true, I'm afraid."
Stephanie was enthralled by her grandfather's story. Surely it had to be a fairy tale.
"But Janet and Shawn lived happily ever after, right?" she asked hurriedly.
Grandpa shook his head slowly.
"Janet lived miserably ever after, I'm afraid," he said. "The queen who allowed her own desires to surpass her daughter's never got to see her grandchild. The queen died before Janet and the new prince had a baby. No one knows what happened to Shawn. The king hopes he lived happily ever after. But no one knows for sure. He and Janet both deserved to be happy and I think they would have been if the queen hadn't stolen those magic letters.
"Maybe if you ever meet Shawn, you can find out for me, sweetie. Maybe, because forever is a really long time, Shawn and Janet will be together again. If they are, please tell Shawn how sorry the king is."
A tear glistened in her grandfather's eye as his finished his story.
It wasn't way most of his stories ended, but maybe he forgot the real ending and just made one up.
"Please don't tell this story to your mom or Aunt Allie, hon," he told Stephanie. "They know the story but it makes them very sad to hear it."
Stephanie promised, but asked her grandfather how she would recognize Shawn if she ever met him.
"Oh, your mom will see him first," he told her. "Then you'll know it's him."
It didn't take Stephanie long on that Tuesday afternoon to decide it was time to repeat her grandfather's story. She was sure that the princess was her mom. She sure hoped this was the prince that her grandfather had told her about.
Steve felt his anger rise as Stephanie repeated what her grandfather had told her. By the time she finished, his face was red and his fists clenched at his side.
"Of all the reckless, ruthless ideas," he said, his lips pulled tight. "I can't believe that god-awful woman did that to you."
Allison and Jane sat speechless. The letters had already confirmed their mother's role and Stephanie's parable had given them the reason behind it. Still it was shocking to learn the depths of their mother's deceit.
"That woman had to be fuckin' mental," Steve continued, unconcerned about the presence of a 14-year-old in the room. "She had to be absolutely insane. She trivialized three lives for her own selfish purpose.
"I'm glad she's dead. I only hope she died a lingering, painful death and that each day she prayed for relief it was denied. To watch her own daughters suffer for her spite. To make my mother cry each afternoon when a letter from you didn't arrive.
"You should have seen the look on my mother's face when she handed me the returned letters. It absolutely destroyed her to have to hand them to me — to verify to me that I wasn't welcome in your lives anymore.
"Whatever level of hell your mother landed on is still too nice a place for her, as far as I'm concerned."
His monologue concluded, Steve stalked out the door and headed to his house — his mind still filled with hatred for the woman he'd always considered his staunchest ally.
Only two people knew the story Stephanie related was only part of the tale — and one of them was dead.
Buckley, in many ways, was an ordinary small town. It had a minimal downtown and a couple of shopping centers on the outskirts. The livelihood of the town revolved entirely upon the pharmaceutical factory that employed almost half the residents of the community.
Robert Wilmont and his family had owned the factory from the very start — almost 70 years before. It didn't make as much money now as it used to — labor costs had risen and technology gains had forced him to change the manufacturing technique to keep up with the times.
But his father's will was ironclad — the factory had to employ at least 525 full-time employees for Robert to maintain his capacity as president and CEO. If it fell below that number, a board of directors would take over to provide relief.
Robert kept the employee number hovering right around 550, just in case one of the poor bastards who served as him employees, and sometimes test subjects, died unexpectedly or he had to fire a lackey or two to set an example. After all, Robert didn't consider them anything more than his personal property — just like he considered his wife.
The Reynolds girl was a lovely little thing, but there was no love involved in their marriage. It was a business transaction — worked out by his father and the girl's mother. A piece of property traded for financial obligations — well, cash and unfettered access to the grandchildren.
Too bad the old bitch died before that could happen. It was just as well, Robert thought, the woman had become a royal pain in his ass once she found out she had cancer.
Robert thought his wife was a pleasant hole to plunder whenever he got the urge, but there were plenty of those around. But Jane was the only way to reach the rest of his destiny — she was the key to the final codicil of the old man's last will in testament.
Robert felt rage when he learned the Reynolds girl wasn't a virgin. The mother had promised she was, and Robert liked nothing better than taking the first piece out of a fresh pie. But someone had beaten him to it. At least he'd been the first to knock her up. At least he thought he was.
He'd shared the girl so much with his father that first month he couldn't really be sure. When the child she carried died because of the drugs in her system, Robert felt a grief he'd never known before or since. If he had known then what he knew now, his grief would have been intensified a thousand fold.
His son, the male heir his father demanded, passed into death as Robert stood beside Jane's bed. He felt no complicity in the boy's death — how was he supposed to know she was started taking anti-anxiety medicine. He'd given her GHB plenty of times before without incident. This version of gamma Hydroxybutyric acid was the one worthwhile thing to come out of that worthless factory.
He'd never been able to figure out who the female child's father was though, not that it mattered. By that time he'd drop a roofie or two in the applesauce and he'd pass Jane around to whomever he wanted something from.
The school he planned to send the girl to would put an end to her surly behavior, he was certain of that. By the time she came home in a year or two, she'd be a perfect miniature version of his wife — a version that was more like the wife he'd always wanted instead of the hateful shrew he was stuck with.
And he'd already decided he was going to make up for missing her mother's cherry by taking the girl's.
Steve was still sitting on his porch an hour after his tirade, head in his hands, when a shadow passed over him.
Steve glanced up and, for only a moment, thought it was young Janey. Of course, it was Stephanie, but his mind was intent on tricking him every chance it got.
"No pent up aggression in you, is there?" she said with a smile and his mind raced back 20 years again. It was something Janey would have said to him when he was in one of his moods.
He couldn't help but smile at the girl in front of him.
"Nope," he said. "I figured it doesn't do me any good to be mad if I can't piss off everyone else around me."
Stephanie's laugh was rich and full — more like Allison's than Jane's. She tossed her head back and her red hair flowed across her shoulders.