Money Well Spent

Jasmine waited for me to make appropriate approving noises. "Socialize? You don't have regular business hours? How much time do you put in a week, does it average out to a decent wage? I'm glad you like it. Sounds like an interesting life, though. Maybe Jen and I should do a piece on you, show how hard work and dedication sometimes pay off. I'm sure your boss would love the publicity."

The woman frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea. Mr. Moody is a very private person." A CEO that doesn't like free publicity? Something smelled, and I dropped the whole conversation.

Back to the present, and Jen was sniffling a little. "Jasmine is moving out! Seems her boss wants her in a private apartment, so she can be available more quickly. He's even paying for it. Even with my raise, Linds and I can't afford to stay. She dropped the bomb three weeks before the lease runs out, and was gone the next day. We've been scrambling, but can't find anything decent. We've got two weeks before we're homeless."

I felt bad for her. I'd never had to struggle for housing. I lived at home until I enlisted, then Uncle Sam housed me, and with the insurance money from my parents I could afford just about anything. I got out just as the economy was starting to rebound, so I decided to buy. I looked at several new homes, and thought about building, but I just couldn't find anything that suited me.

Finding my home proved to be easier than I thought. Cutting through an area of town I'd never explored on the way to an assignment, I was impressed with the large lots and the stately old houses. One house, the "For Sale" sign looking slightly faded, caught my eye.

That's when I saw her. My house. Two stories, large lot, three bay detached garage. It had obviously been empty for quite a while, and the sign out front had a 'reduced' banner across the front. Four days later I met the realtor and she took me on a tour. Six bedrooms, three baths, updated kitchen, high ceilings, all original woodwork. 4200 square feet of faded elegance. She was almost a hundred years old, but had been well cared for and had been updated over the years. The garage was well maintained, and there was a two bedroom apartment up top, the servant's quarters at one time most likely. It could stand an update, but was useable. I let the realtor drone on until I made my decision.

"How much?"

"Pardon?"

"How much do the owners want?"

"Well, they started out at 750, but with the ecomony they reduced it to six, a really good deal. It would be an excellent investment."

I knew the woman looked at my age and appearance and thought she was wasting her time. Shocking her, I made an offer. I decide 500,000 would be my limit, so I started low.

"Tell the owners I'll give them 420 as is. And tell them I'll be paying cash, we don't need to do anymore paperwork."

The woman was obviously flustered. "They won't accept that! It's almost half what it's worth!"

I shrugged. "It's more than they have now. I did a little research. This place has been on the market for two years, and this is the first offer made. Talk to them, and get back to me."

I figured she would get back with a counter offer, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when she called and told me they had accepted my offer. "You're stealing this," she grumbled when we met at the lawyer's office.

"You mean I'm stealing a large chunk of your commision. Tell me, how many other homes have you sold lately with this kind of price tag?"

She ccouldn't help but grin. "None. This commision will go a long way towards our own dream house. I won't say it's been a pleasure, but it has been interesting. Congratulations, enjoy your new home."

I spent another forty thousand fixing odds and ends. When the remodelers were done, I got a cleaning service to go over the whole house, even the apartment. The place gleamed when they were done, and I signed a deal for a quarterly visit. Uncle had taught me how to clean, and I only used four rooms., so it was enough.

Deciding her name was Miss Agnes, when the weather changed and she groaned a little, I would talk to her. I know, a little crazy, but I lived alone, so it didn't matter. "Buck up, old girl. You might be old, and be high maintenance, but you're beautiful, and worth every dime." I found some old pictures in the attic, and one woman stood out. Doing a little research, I found out she and her husband were the original owners, and the place was mostly built with her money. When I found out her name was Agnes, a chill went up my spine. I hung the picture in the hall, so she could watch over the place.

I just grinned at Jen, and asked her if she'd like to meet Miss Agnes.

Chapter 5

They came out Saturday, and spent almost an hour wandering around the house and grounds. I showed them the apartment and asked if they thought they could stand living in the suburbs.

"How much?"

I grinned at Lindsey. "How much are you paying now?"

"Eight hundred apiece."

It must have been a really nice apartment. "Well, we'll see what we can do. I'm thinking fifty a week, but there's a catch. I hope both of you can cook, because part of the deal is one homecooked meal from each of you per week, and I furnish the food. And you can each have a space in the garage, just don't bother the other bay. Deal?"

They stared, they stuttered. "Fifty isn't fair, Dean! We don't want to take..."

"All right. You drive a hard bargain. Twenty-five then. And we'll sign a one year lease, just so you can be comfortable with the deal." Suddenly I had two hands full of crying women, and we stayed locked up for a long time, before they finally calmed down and let me go. They spent the rest of the day cleaning the apartment, borrowed my truck(and me) to move the furniture they wanted to keep. They were firmly in place before the weekend was out. I had one more condition they had to agree to before I gave them the keys.

"Do not tell anyone this is my house. I like privacy, and I don't care to have to discuss how I came to own such a big place. Understood?" They agreed.

It was an adjustment. I took them on a tour of my house, and introduced them to Miss Agnes. "She's watching, and she can be cranky. Best not upset her." They both looked at me funny, but after that, every time they came over, they greeted her, and told her goodbye when they left. I rarely went up into the attic, but one day I went to check on the heat ducts, and saw it. Her wedding album. I could swear it wasn't there the last time I was up. Agnes was a knockout when she was young. Before I knew it, I was talking.

"Gee Agnes, you were hot! I bet your husband was the envy of every male in town." I felt a soft sigh go through the attic. Wind, most likely. A box fell off a shelf. I picked it up and opened it. Love letters from each other while he served in WW1. A picture of him in his uniform. His medals. One of her with their first child. Her letters were lyrical, and downright erotic for the time. I grinned.

"Agnes, Agnes, I bet these warmed up the trenches he was in." The attic got a little warmer, and I remembered why I was up there, to check the ducts. I went to set the box down when I saw a smaller box in the bottom. I knew what it was as soon as I touched it.

"Oh no, Agnes, this is too personal."

I couldn't help it though, and looked. A wedding set, her band, his band, and what could only be described as a rock for an engagement ring. They had to be worth a lot of money. I fingered the rings, remembering my research. They had been married for fifty-six years, and died within days of each other. Wishing I could find a love that enduring, I carefully placed the box back on the shelf.

Chapter 6

Turns out Jen was a very good cook. "Mom, Dad, six kids. I was the oldest girl, so I learned. It wasn't a gender thing, Mom made all of us learn, and we each had a specialty. Mine was fried chicken, pan gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, and fresh biscuits. Allie made spaghetti and meatballs, Joe was a grillmaster. We all were proud of our dishes." Her fried chicken was really outstanding. We had it about every two weeks.

Lindsey was a blue eyed blond with a bubbly personality, a real piece of eye candy. They made quite a pair and quite a contrast at the same time. She couldn't cook as well as we thought. We suffered through three hot dog and hamburger meals before we started teaching her. Then she signed up for a cooking class featuring Mexican dishes, and our variety improved quite a bit.

So my home life improved dramatically. It was kind of interesting when we had dates over, they all had a hard time with our living arrangement, but after they learned they adjusted. If one had company, the other stayed absent. Jen even stayed in the house a few times to give Lindsey some privacy. We both consoled her when her relationships tanked. For some reason Jen never brought anyone home, although she did stay elsewhere every once in a while.

Six months went by and we did a followup to our VA story. Our Congressman failed miserably, and denied an interview. We did our remote on his office steps, giving him a public F for his efforts. He did not win his re-elction bid. His replacement was from the other party, and a vet, so he jumped in, making it his personal cause, working both parties relentlessly. He made friends and he made enemies, but he got stuff done.

We did other stories, some fluff, some serious. Jen came up with a thing where we did the interviews together, tag teaming our subjects. Politicians and corporate types hated us, the average person loved us.

We started a side project, purely by accident, that changed the direction of our lives forever.

We'd done an Art Crawl, going from location to location doing clips. It had gotten dark, and the neighborhood we were in was right on the fringes of the event, a not so nice place to be after the sun went down. Jen decided to take a shortcut, to get back to the station earlier. She thought that because she was with me, she was bulletproof. It bothered me, it's one thing to intimidate a crooked salesman or corrupt politician, another to face down a junkie stoned out of his mind, or gang members on their home turf.

A large man loomed out of the darkness, a street person by his looks. He didn't see me at first and accosted Jen. "Hey lady, got a couple bucks for someone down and out?"

He was using his size to intimidate, but Jen knew I was right behind her, and it made her brave. "What's in it for me?"

The man was obviously confused. "Huh?"

"I said what's in it for me. What do I get for my money?"

By now he had seen me and was backing off. Jen was right on top of him. "Tell you what, I've got a five here. It's yours if you sing me a song."

"Lady, I don't know any songs."

"Bullshit! Everybody has a song, one that means something to them. Sing me one verse and the money is yours."

He stood for a minute, thinking. Then, in a surprisingly strong baritone, he began singing.

"The itsy bitsy spider went up the waterspout.

Along came the rain and washed the spider out."

He sang it all, as tears started flowing down his cheeks. "My mother used to sing that to me. I hadn't thought of her in years."

Jen was absolutely mesmerized. I turned my camera back on. "I'll give you another twenty if you'll sing it again, and let me film it."

He went through it again, tears coming once more, choking up in spots. "What's your name, brother?" I asked as I handed him the money.

"Nobody uses their real name on the street," he said. Pulling on his shoulder length hair and long beard, grinning. "Out here, I'm Shaggy. Thanks for the money." We watched as he walked into a burger joint. At least some of it didn't go to booze.

She was quiet on the way back to the station, even quieter on the ride home. Instead of going into her apartment, she followed me in and made us tea without asking. Once we had the Earl Grey on the coffee table, she started talking.

"My uncle was a street person. Everyone in the family was ashamed of him, and cut him out of their lives. All but Mom and Dad. They'd find him, bring him home, clean him up, give him some clothes, feed him a couple of good meals, then he would disappear again. They really tried to get him help, but he wouldn't accept it. We were in a cold snap, twenties during the day, almost zero at night. Mom had bought him a really thick coat and given it to him. We found out later he sold it for alcohol. They found him frozen to death in a cardboard box under an overpass. My folks had to pay for the funeral, no one else in the family wanted to help. Most didn't even come. I remembered him from when I was little, when he was a normal person, how he swung me around until I was dizzy and giggling. What a waste of life!"

She was sobbing quietly, so I cuddled her, letting her soak my shirt. She got really quiet, and I realized she was asleep. I slid out, placing her gently on the couch. I was going to wake her up and send her home, but she looked so peaceful I left her, taking off her sneakers and covering her with a blanket, lifting her head gently to slide a pillow under her. Unable to stop myself, I kissed her cheek, amazed at how soft and warm her skin was. I ruffled her hair, whispering.

"Watch over her Miss Agnes. She's really special." I felt something brush my cheek, the air conditioner kicking on no doubt, and went to bed.

Chapter 7

We won a regional Emmy for our series on veterans. It was a big deal for the station, and we were ordered to attend. Jen was very excited, proud of our work. I didn't tell her, but I already had four, from my time with the network. They were in a box somewhere.

I came home the night before the ceremony and found it full. Seems her parents and most of her siblings had decided to surprise her by coming up to celebrate her success. There were two girls, early teens by their looks, splashing around in the enormous above ground pool I had installed, and an older looking boy working with my gas grill. Something smelled great.

There was a very attractive Hispanic woman sitting at the kitchen table when I walked in, drinking coffee. A slender man sat across from her, his black hair edged with grey. I knew instantly who they were. Jen's parents, and looking at her mother, I realized Jen would still be a hottie as she aged. Her mother was in her late forties, still slender, still sexy, she looked like she might be in her late thirties. In no way did she look like she'd given birth to six children. She grinned when she saw me.

"Hi, you must be Dean. Jen insisted we wait to meet you, but well, we couldn't help ourselves. The girls had packed their suits for the motel pool, so they changed and jumped right in. I cuaght our son Joe drooling as he looked over your outdoor kitchen. Lindsey said it would be okay, so we bought some ribs, chicken, and steaks. They should be done in another hour or so."

Jen showed up just then looking scared to death. She had to stay late for a meeting, so she had driven herself that day. She pushed me into the living room before I could speak, babbling and apologizing. I held her for a minute. It always seemed to calm her down.

"Easy, Jen. Slow down. It's okay, really. Now, what do you need to tell me?"

"It's not my fault! I didn't know they were coming! They just showed up, and Lindsey let them in, telling them to get comfortable. The girls were already in the pool and Joe was on the grill when she called. I couldn't tell them no. Please don't be mad."

"Calm down, honey. It'll be just fine. Now, why don't you get me introduced to everyone."

She went quiet instantly, a strange look on her face, It wasn't until I was almost asleep that night before I remembered I called her honey. I hope she wasn't angry.

I met them all. Her oldest brother Roy, a year older than her. Her brother Joe, a junior in high school, and the twin girls, fourteen, Anne and Sandy. One of their siblings couldn't make the trip, but Mom(she insisted I call her that)showed me pictures and assured me I would meet her later. As the night wore on, I noticed Jen tended to cling to me, giving me little touches now and then. I looked at her and she mouthed "later" to me, so I let her keep it up. After a tremendous meal and a fun evening, we got everyone bedded down. They had intended to find a motel, but I shot that down pretty quick.

"Why would you do that? I have bedrooms that haven't been used since I bought the house. You're more than welcome to stay."

When they all were down for the night, I expected Jen to leave, but that didn't happen. Around midnight I asked her if she didn't need to rest for our big night. She went about eight shades of red and confessed. "Dean, I...um...I..."

"I'm tired Jen. Spit it out."

It came out in a rush. "I, uh, kind of told them that we were living together. I'm sorry, but it happened when Mom and Dad were getting on me for not finding anybody, and I told them I was already sharing your address. I just didn't tell them I was living in the apartment above your garage. They assumed we were together, so I let them. I had no idea they would just show up out of the blue."

"What does that have to do with sleeping? Tell them tomorrow, I'm sure they will understand."

"Please, Dean, Please. Let me stay the night, and pretend we're together until they leave. I'll give it a couple of weeks and then tell them we broke up."

"Where would you sleep?"

"In your bed. I'll behave, I promise. Just one night, Dean. Please."

She collapsed into my chest sobbing. I couldn't help it, I was always a sucker for crying women. I rubbed her hair, patted her back. "Stop crying, honey. Go to your place and get your sleepwear and a change of clothes. One night! And no hanky panky!"

She stopped crying and giggled. "Hanky panky? What grown man says hanky panky?"

"This one," I growled, before swatting her butt lightly. "Go get your stuff."

She shot out the door giggling again, rubbing her bottom. I took advantage of her absence and took a shower, putting on a tee and some lightweight sweat pants. She went straight into the bathroom when she came back, and I could hear her singing in the shower. She had never been in my bedroom or master bath, so she had never seen my custom shower. Six heads, including a fourteen inch rainshower head, all adjustable in power and pulse. I had drifted off by the time she came out, and she shook me awake. "You're in the middle of the bed, honey. Move over. You want the right or the left?"

I slid sleepily to the left side, and she eased in, careful not to touch me. We were both worn out, so sleep came quickly. I woke up a couple hours later to find her half draped over me, her hair obscuring her face as it rested on my chest. She seemed really comfortable, so I ran my hand through her curls until I drifted back off. When we woke, she had spooned to me, and I had my arms wrapped around her, one hand on her soft(and bare)tummy the other tangled up in her hair. Seems I really have a thing for her hair. I had my morning erection, and she was pushing back in her sleep. It felt very, very good, so I lay there enjoying it. When she was awake enough to realize what she was doing, she let out a little cry and jumped out of bed.

I didn't see what she was wearing last night, but I really appreciated it now. Sleep shorts that were so skimpy they almost qualified as panties, and a camisole held up by spaghetti straps that weren't really doing their job. One breast was bare almost to her nipple. She looked down, gave a little squeak, and pulled a short robe on, leaving quite a bit of leg for me to enjoy. It was funny to see her creamy skin glow from embarrassment.

"Morning, honey. Sleep well?"

Before she could answer her mother knocked. "Up, up, lovebirds. Time to face the day. Breakfast is ready, so hustle, before it disappears."