Chapter 2
As they drove up before the Jameson home, Shirley was startled to find that it looked more beautiful than ever. The mansion had always been, like Aunt Jenny's home, a showplace. Although it was in Vermont, the Jameson house was reminiscent of the gracious old manor houses on Louisiana plantations. The building was almost square, and across the front, stately columns ran the full two stories of the mansion. Now the place looked as if it were illuminated by carefully placed floodlights. Yet the tall white columns stood firm and straight, as if neither wind nor wave could touch them. Even the roof was in place, and it was hard to believe that this was an all-consuming fire.
They parked the car in the nearby field, and Shirley noticed that the truck drivers had already moved their machines to a safe distance. She paused before the first group of onlookers which, in addition to the four truckmen Mrs. Jameson had been boarding, included the two young men who had stopped at Aunt Jenny's that morning. They were standing in a welter of suitcases, foot lockers and various household goods that were apparently all that had been salvaged from the burning home.
A few feet away Mabel Jameson sat on a needlepoint footstool, watching the disaster with a strangely calm expression. It occurred to Shirley, a little nonsensically, that the gleam in Mrs. Jameson's eyes was not unlike that which must have been in Nero's as he watched Rome burn.
"Oh, Mrs. Jameson, we're so sorry," Dolly said in a syrupy voice. "Mums said to tell you that you must come and stay with us right away. It must have been a terrible shock for you, and of course all your lovely antique furniture...."
"My lovely antique furniture," echoed Mabel Jameson, "has been given a worthy burial. I wouldn't have believed it, but I feel a great sense of relief that I won't have to wax that pie-crust table or polish the silver candlesticks ever again."
"So long as you are not hurt," Shirley said anxiously, "we can make you comfortable for as long as you care to stay."
"Jenny Winsted was always the first to offer the hospitality of her home," Mrs. Jameson said. "I shall not be imposing long. In fact, I have already made arrangements to visit my sister in California. She has long wanted me to come out there, but I hesitated to close up the house and leave it without adequate protection. Now that it has burned down, I am free," she repeated.
The older woman was silent for a few moments, and then admitted in the same strangely calm voice that she had been told the old furnace should be replaced. But it seemed silly to do it in the spring, and she had not had the money before for a new furnace.
"It's good to know we have such fine neighbors who will take us all in for the night," Mabel said.
"I'm sure," Dolly said instantly, "that Mums will do anything you ask." Shirley wished she could share her cousin's assurance and, as if she had read the girl's thoughts, Mabel said hastily:
"The four boys I had staying with me are being transferred up the line tomorrow. That's why I wanted Jenny to take the two who came today. It seemed like an ideal time to get started for the West Coast. I didn't consciously wish for a fire, but I'm actually not sorry that it happened. Now I can visit my sister without feeling that I am neglecting the old family homestead."
The volunteer fire department came down the road and wheeled into the driveway. As if at a signal, the roof fell in and the noise, the smell of burning wood, and the rain of cinders effectively prevented further conversation. The firemen saw that the fire was wholly out of control, but they started anyway to aim an ineffectual stream of water against the flaming debris.
Shirley did not quite know what to make of this new Mabel Jameson who was not reacting to the loss of her antiques in the proper New England manner. The older woman stood up and, picking up the needlepoint footrest by one leg, advanced to the fire line that had been established. She did not try to break through but instead, with a sudden swing that caught everyone off guard, tossed the footrest back into the fire. Shirley realized that Mrs. Jameson was more upset than she appeared.
George Weaver went over to Mrs. Jameson and offered to drive her car to the Winsted place. Joe Hamilton told the truck drivers to follow him back to the house.
"Mums said that we were to offer you anything at all that would help," Dolly said as she assisted Mrs. Jameson into the car. "We have plenty of room, and the freezer is well stocked. You'll all be more than welcome to spend the night."
Shirley, although she felt equally hospitable, was a little startled by Dolly's statement. It was true that there were five bedrooms upstairs that would take care of the unexpected company; probably Aunt Jenny would have Mrs. Jameson stay in her room downstairs. Shirley and Dolly shared a bedroom on the ground floor. But there was still the problem of getting the beds dressed and taking the sheets, blankets, towels and pillowcases out of storage. Shirley was also thinking that one dozen eggs would have to be made up into an omelet in order to feed these unexpected guests. The quarter-pound of bacon that was left would have to be used mainly as decoration.
"We don't want to impose," Dan Hallbrook, the quiet, dark-haired truck driver said quickly.
Tom Sanders, the redhead, cut him off with abrupt acceptance. "It's very kind of you-all, ma'am. We know Mrs. Winsted doesn't usually take in boarders, but we would sure appreciate having a place to live in this neighborhood."
Joe Hamilton did not miss the frank admiration in Tom Sanders' glance at Dolly. But he merely said: "I think we can plan only for tonight. Mrs. Winsted will have to make her own decision on any future arrangement."
Shirley's concern with the details of taking care of seven extra people was well founded. It was almost eleven o'clock before she had the men settled in the upstairs bedrooms, although the truck drivers had been unexpectedly amenable. Dolly had not helped in any way, but had concentrated her attention on the redheaded truckman and had parted from him with reluctance when Shirley finally announced that the rooms were ready.
Jenny was giving Mrs. Jameson a cup of tea in the kitchen when Shirley came downstairs. Joe Hamilton and George Weaver were still there, although they were not having tea. Dolly seemed to feel that she had been neglecting Joe, and she dropped into a chair beside him, declaring that the excitement of the last few hours had tired her out completely. Shirley felt as if her feet were dropping off, but she helped herself to a cup of tea before she sat down.
Mrs. Jameson was carrying on a conversation that had been started some time before.
"It isn't as if those two nice young men who came today were not well vouched for," Mrs. Jameson said, her plump figure stiffening. "The four men I had with me know them well. They're from the same town in Virginia. As a matter-of-fact, they live next door to each other, the Hallbrooks and the Sanders. I understand they have very beautiful homes, too."
"The farther away you are from home, the bigger the story you can tell about it," Jenny said sharply. "You must realize, my dear Mabel, that I have two girls to protect, and Dolly is a very beautiful girl."
Shirley did not resent her aunt's statement. She had long become used to admit ting that Dolly was the glamorous type and she herself had been born to play second fiddle.
There was ample protection in Jenny Winsted's own presence in the home, Mabel argued. There was also the fact that both Tom and Dan came from Virginia families that had long been identified with the State Legislature.
"Some of the finest families have their own black sheep," Jenny said, but Shirley thought that she seemed less adamant in her refusal.
"Oh, Mums," Dolly said with a glance at the young men beside her, "don't be so stuffy and old-fashioned. I think Tom Sanders is downright cute, and the other one isn't bad-looking either. This isn't the Victorian era, Mums, and girls nowadays know how to take care of themselves. Besides, I think the local talent ought to have a little healthy competition."
"Of course I don't want you to do anything that would be against your principles, Jenny," Mabel Jameson said huffily. "But your daughter certainly has a point there. I think there is such a thing as being overprotective."
George Weaver, to Shirley's astonishment, suddenly joined in the conversation. He heartily agreed with Aunt Jenny. To his mind, three women living in a house without male protection could not afford to take in two unknown young men and be at their mercy every hour of the day or night. Shirley could scarcely repress a giggle at the thought of the stout and flabby George protecting anyone from these hard-muscled young truck drivers. But George's next remark completely drove all thought of laughter from her mind.
"As you know," George was saying in a measured voice, "Mrs. Churchill, where Dinky and I have been staying for the past three years, is not at all well. She finds the care of a five-year-old boy quite trying, although my little son is extremely well-behaved."
Shirley's mind raced wildly ahead of George's actual proposition. But she could find no way to shut him off. Instead, George had her aunt's entire attention, and it was quite obvious that Jenny, too, knew what was coming.
"My thought is this," George said pompously, "Dinky and I would come, here to live and would pay you the same as we are paying Mrs. Churchill. In that way, I would be right here every night and I don't believe any man could take advantage of you. Dinky is a sweet child, and I know you would grow to love him. But at any rate, we would take care to see that we did not cause you any trouble."
The only trouble would be chocolate cream pie every day, Shirley thought as she saw that her aunt considered George's proposal as the ideal solution.
"As you say, George, no stranger could take advantage of us if you were here every night," Aunt Jenny said.
"You know I am not one to go gall-wanting about every night," George announced unnecessarily. "After a clay in the shop I am pretty tired out, and I like to turn in early as a general rule. Of course, it would be a real advantage to me to be considered a member of such a charming family," he added gallantly.
"Oh, Mums, do say yes," Dolly gurgled. "I'm sure that darling little boy would have lots of fun here. And Shirley has such a way with children."
"Well...." Jenny hesitated, and Shirley hoped for a second that she might continue to refuse to take in either the truckmen or George Weaver and his obnoxious little boy.
But Mrs. Jameson thought the idea very sound and said so. "I think it's almost sinful, Jenny, to have all those rooms standing idle when so many people need a place to live. After all, it is not as if these young men would be here forever. When the job is finished, they will move on to another part of the country. "But," she could not resist adding, "in the meantime, you will have made a little extra money, which is always welcome. And .perhaps," she said, "George and his son will like it so well here they will want to make it a permanent arrangement."
Aunt Jenny was not one to be persuaded lightly. The money, she pointed out, was not her primary consideration. She was more interested in the welfare of her girls. On the other hand, she would feel very safe with George in the house, and she did think it was difficult for the aging Mrs. Churchill to take care of a child as young as Dinky.
"What is the child's name, by the way?" she asked George in an attempt to delay giving her consent.
"We named him Richard, after my father," George explained. "We shortened that to Dicky. And then when he continued to be so small for his age, somehow we just called him Dinky."
"The poor child," Jenny Winsted said at once. "He's probably not getting the right food. I wish I could offer you the hospitality of my home, George, without charging you for it."
This was too much for Shirley. If the child were to have the proper food, she put in quickly, there would have to be money to provide the food. "As a matter-of-fact," Shirley said tartly, "the question of food for tomorrow's breakfast has been something of a problem to me. We have only a dozen eggs and a little bit of bacon. Also, I've been meaning to ask Mrs. Jameson at what time the men go out in the morning."
"I give them breakfast at six o'clock; they have to leave the house at six-thirty. Since tomorrow is Saturday, they work only half a day, and there will be no question of packing lunch boxes."
Aunt Jenny did not take kindly to this discussion of food and the cost of it, Shirley knew. But somebody had to be practical, and if two of the truck drivers and George Weaver and his son were to be adequately fed, she had to have enough money to shop in quantity. But Aunt Jenny was looking at her, and Shirley had the uneasy conviction that, in spite of what the others had said, it had remained for her, Shirley, to change her aunt's mind.
"I think you are worried unnecessarily, Shirley, about the food situation," Jenny Winsted said with evident displeasure in her voice. "The Winsteds have always been known for their hospitality. And never in my lifetime have I known the food to be less than adequate. Of course, when I was doing the shopping, I not only bought food, but I made sure we had the proper appointments to serve it nicely. I think, George, that your offer is a most generous one. I will expect you and Dinky to move in tomorrow. Then the truckmen may stay if they want to," she added graciously.
"What's the matter with our appointments?" Shirley asked, genuinely puzzled by her aunt's comment.
"You have only three napkins in the pantry," her aunt said triumphantly. "We'll have to use the linen ones for breakfast."
"Three paper napkins would have been enough," Shirley said with some anger, "if we had only ourselves to take care of. Anyway, I always do the shopping on Saturday. And now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go to bed. I'm a little tired. Good night."
Walking up to her room, Shirley heard some strange sounds coming from her cousin Dolly's room. She didn't pay any mind to the noises at first, thinking that Dolly was just having more of her dreams.
But when Shirley was brushing her teeth in the bathroom, she became very curious about those noises. The bathroom had a door at each end, connecting Shirley's room with Dolly's, so it was no problem for Shirley to kneel down at the keyhole and investigate the source of the strange sounds in her cousin's bedroom.
Shirley couldn't believe her eyes. There on the bed were Dolly and one of the truck drivers who had come down from the Jameson place. Dolly still had her nightgown on, but the trucker was half-naked, wearing only his blue jeans.
Initially, Shirley thought that Dolly was being forced against her will by this man to have sex with him. But upon closer inspection, Shirley saw that her cousin was having the time of her life. She was smiling and laughing and giggling, tickling the big man while he nuzzled his face into her breasts.
This has to be stopped, Shirley told her self. I should go in there and break that up immediately.
But somehow she couldn't find the strength to stand up and barge in. Something held her fast to the keyhole, forcing her to stare longingly at the couple making iove on Dolly's bed.
It had been so long since Shirley had felt the strong, loving touch of a man. And now, watching this truck driver kiss and stroke her cousin's tits, Shirley found herself wishing she were the one being loved, that she were the one getting her nipples fondled and licked.
Shirley gasped when the man dropped his pants and revealed his huge cock. It looked so big and wonderful, throbbing between his legs. Watching that twitching shaft of manmeat, Shirley could almost feel it against her flesh, could almost feel it sliding up between her moist pussy lips.
Then Dolly curled around so she was facing the man's crotch. She knelt before him on the bed and squeezed his balls with both hands, rolling the fragile little eggs around delicately. The trucker gasped, sounding his lusty appreciation. Then he dug his fingers into Dolly's hair and held on while she caressed him.
"Yeah, baby," he hissed, "that feels great. You don't know how lonely it gets out there on the highway. Ohh, and to have someone like you waiting here for me, man, you couldn't ask for anything more than that. Now keep it up, baby, just keep doing it like that. Ohhhhh!"
Dolly moved one hand up to clutch his cockshaft. She held the thick meat in her fist and aimed it at her mouth. Opening her mouth wide, she flapped her tongue around in a teasing motion, prolonging her attentions just that much more.
"Yeah, baby," he growled. "Come on and suck it. Please, baby, please!"
Dolly grinned mischievously. Then she dropped her head down slightly and swirled her tongue all around the bloated tip of his penis. While she licked his hot flesh, she jacked her hand up and down, working his foreskin back and forth sensuously.
"I can't stand it!" the man yelped. "Hurry up and suck it, honey. Hurry!"
Shirley, still staring out through the keyhole, was almost as turned on as the truck driver was. She found that she couldn't hold back any longer, and she just had to slip a finger into her pussy and masturbate while she spied on her horny cousin.
Kneeling down and then leaning back, Shirley managed to spread her legs wide and still keep her eye glued to the keyhole. Clutching the doorknob for support, she was able to drive her finger deep inside her pussy, which was dripping wet with fresh lubricants.
She couldn't believe how good it felt to get this sort of relief. Granted, Shirley thought, this isn't the real thing. But it's much better than what I've been getting lately, which is nothing.
By this time, Dolly had managed to swallow the entire length of the man's hard cock. While gripping his asscheeks for support, she worked her head up and down feverishly, putting all her effort into bringing him off.
Her cheeks were caved in from the intensity of her suction. And loud slurping noises filled her room.
"That's so good, baby," the man grunted, beginning to work his hips back and forth. "I can feel it coming! Oh, honey, yeah ... yeah ... here it comes!"
He began pumping his hips back and forth frantically, trying to pump his load of hot semen deep into Dolly's face.
Watching intently, Shirley jammed two more fingers into her vagina and tried to get herself to come, along with the highly aroused truck driver.
Oh, please, I want to come, she said to herself. So bad I want to come.
When she saw dribbles of white jism leaking out of her cousin's mouth and dripping down across her chin, Shirley felt her orgasm begin to unleash itself. Wild spasms of relief flooded through her body, and she clutched the doorknob tighter to keep from falling onto the floor. So violent was her climax that she had to muster up all her willpower to keep from crying out.
Having rode out her orgasm to the limit, Shirley felt suddenly ashamed of what she had done. Spying on her cousin. How could she?
Picking herself up off the floor, she dashed into her room and leaped under the covers, falling asleep almost instantly.