Betsy & the McBrides Ch. 03

SIX

Matilda McBride served lunch on the deck of her rough sawn timber-clad home that overlooked the Milton River, only half a mile upstream of the falls that gave the town its name.

Easily the most vivacious widow in Milton Falls over the age of fifty, Matilda was dressed in a wildly splashed pink, yellow and green colored shirt and tight jeans that revealed only an entree of 'dropped' ass.

Matilda had indirectly told her new friend and business associate, Betsy Milton-Stewart her age. In conversation when they'd last met, Matilda that said she was twenty-four when son Kenny was born, and a little later she said he was four when they arrived in Milton Falls.

Betsy, aware that she required one more figure to arrive at an interesting conclusion, casually asked Matilda how long had she resided in the town and was told twenty-eight years.

Very interesting.

That meant Kenny was thirty-two and he'd told Betsy that the first night he'd fucked her, come to think of it. Yes, that computed: age four when he came to the town twenty-eight years ago totals thirty-two years. Matilda was twenty four when Kenny was born thirty-two years ago which made her fifty-four, give or take a year perhaps.

Well, here was the fifty-four year old coming to greet her. Betsy watched the way Matilda walked towards the door, the way her hips and shoulders moved and her purposeful stride – she certainly look to be on the low side of fifty-four.

They waved a greeting through the glass and the lovely warm smile Betsy received stimulated a sexy thought: if Matilda smiles at men like that she'll get all the sex she can handle! I could even be interested, smiled Betsy, quite startling herself and thinking that was a somewhat loopy thought as she hadn't had a female lover since college dorm days.

The door opened and Matilda commented innocently, "My, that's a sexy smile."

"Hullo, Matilda. Sorry, had a rogue thought in my mind."

"Care to share it? It had the look of an exciting thought."

"Nah, not at all. I was just reminding myself to buy some fresh flowers," said Betsy, not embarrassed by telling that porky. "How are you, love?"

They kissed, and Matilda held her for a moment longer than perhaps necessary and Betsy was surprised at the strength of the woman. The perfume was strong and sexy – one of the oriental blends and clearly Matilda had chosen a bra to be noticeable.

Betsy mused, why all this for me? She then dismissed it – almost in a giggle – as an over-reaction because of her own frivolous thinking.

"You look lovely Betsy," Matilda said softly, running the tips of her fingers over Betsy's open back between the crossed straps of her multi-colored sundress. "Fancy matching the lens of your expensive looking Continental sunglasses with the color finish of your sandals."

"Not that clever actually," Betsy said, holding up her left foot and extending the toe of the sandal forward. A shoemaker obligingly made up the right color to re-dye my footwear – these and pair of shoes."

Both women looked at the slender foot so elegantly presented, no doubt thinking different things.

"You look so lovely – you should be busily sorting through available males as suitable escorts for formal functions in your business life – and area where Kenny would prove inadequate."

Betsy thought, what's this? A mother hinting that she knows something has occurred between her son and me, and hinting of a son's inadequacy. Why am I being told this?"

"Does Kenny spill crumbs?" she giggled.

Matilda laughed easily but Betsy could tell that her shoulders did not quite have the relaxed pose of someone laughing fulsomely.

That was confirmed: "By nature Kenny is a rough and tumble lad; the females that really appeal to him are the sort who live in trailer homes.

Go lightly, was the message Betsy's brain signaled. This is a sensitive area.

"Oh goodness, I'm not Kenny's taste in women because I'm not sophisticated enough and don't live at the right address?"

"Don't joke about it, Betsy. I just don't want to see you hurt, possibly physically. Kenny faced two disciplinary charges in the Army relating to women. He received minor punishment on one charge and on the other loss of promotion along with a severe tongue lashing or whatever they do. Before he went into the Amy I had to use a good attorney holding a fistful of money to deal with two incidents involving very upset women."

"My God, you are warning me, aren't you?"

"Yes dear, but just gently. Socially you are going places beyond the reach of Kenny. Use him as a plaything, but nothing more and remain alert that your toy has sharp edges.

"I'm setting Kenny up in a business that will exploit his talents – an assets repossession business. The town lacks such a specialist operation; with the region's high population of transients working in seasonal work in forestry, we get many people arriving and leaving this community with possessions not rightfully theirs."

"So there's a gap waiting to be exploited?"

"Yes, a big one according to my investigations – and one that the Kennedys have overlooked."

Both women turned to watch the arrival of Kenny's car, a black beast purring and looking gleaming as if having just been through a vehicle grooming facility.

"We're just purchased O'Reilly's Vehicle Grooming Services going head-to-head with Franco Kennedy who runs the family's business acquisitions and disposals operation. The family was after the land as it's a strategic half-acre of largely undeveloped land near cross-roads. We will development the site for Kenny's repro services while retaining the well-patronized vehicle grooming facility."

As Kenny entered Matilda turned her cheek to be kissed, saying "Hi, Kenny."

He then called "Hi Betsy" and looked at Betsy momentarily through lowered lids but did not move to touch her. "You look pretty."

"Why thank you, Kenny," responded Betsy, doing a mock curtsy. "Matilda says you're starting up in Repo."

"Yeah,"

"Will the name be Kenny Repro Services?"

"Dunno. What do you think?"

"It's your business, my opinion is immaterial."

"I'd like to know what you think as mom and I can't agree. She like's Kenny's Professional Repossessions whereas I like We Get It Back, Inc."

"We would value your opinion, Betsy," encouraged Matilda.

"Right – if you don't mind me saying so Kenny, 'We Get It Back' is more of a company slogan than a company name which means it could be incorporated as an extension of the more formal company name. I would be a little uneasy about the use of 'professional' simply because it may well turn small clients away, yet their money is also good.

"I would tend to go for a generalized name but with a hint of what the company is about: for instance, The Collection Agency or perhaps Blue Bird Recovery Services."

"Really?" commented Kenny. "You think clients prefer a softer kind of name?"

"I do."

"Actually, so do I now that you mention it," said Matilda. "But let's have lunch; wine please, Kenny."

"Right, I favor Blue Bird Repossessions."

"Sound good, Kenny, but the wine, please. Betsy and I need our midday fix."

Caesar salad served with crispy white bread are a wonderful combination on a warn day accompanied by chilled off-dry white wine, and Betsy said that. Matilda looked pleased. That course was followed by a fresh fruit platter with dried figs.

"Little protein for me but this lunch will keep the fat off the hips of you babes," growled Kenny, who was told by his mom to pull his head in.

Kenny served coffee and they got down to business.

"I'd like to be kept informed on the planning of anti-Kennedy operations," said Matilda. "It won't be long before news of my financial involvement with the newspaper is circulated. That means I then become a possible reprisal target."

Betsy looked at Kenny.

"I'm being advised both by Kenny and another former military intelligence specialist Mike Street…"

"What, the taxi driver with the beer belly?" exclaimed Matilda. "I find that difficult to believe, especially when comparing him with Kenny who looks like a mean, well-oiled fighting machine."

"He was a strategist, sitting behind a desk, mom. I worked in the field."

"So that makes him good?"

"Despite his fat gut he probably was an effective spoke in the wheel, mom."

"Right, as I was saying," said Betsy, I have been advised by two former specialists who have advised different strategies."

"I wouldn't trust Mike Street," Kenny said darkly.

Betsy decided this was an appropriate moment to tell an untruth.

"Funny, he said the same thing about you."

Betsy was surprised to see Kenny grin rather than scowl. Why was that?

"So, all they've done is to confuse you?"

"No, not at all, Matilda. There is total agreement that we work cleverly, keeping our heads down that that while we may be suspected, even to the point of being hot suspects, an element of uncertainly remains."

Matilda looked thoughtful, refreshing her lipstick.

"I'd agree with that. Not only would subterfuge be effective in itself, but with the Kennedys having so many enemies or angry people at the end of rough deals, they really wouldn't know what way to look if our battle plan is developed with superior intelligence."

"Our battle plan," grinned Kenny, wolf-like displaying his teeth.

"Oh, yes. I wish to be in this all the way – I have no desire to curl up in afternoons for a nap or watch TV soaps here by myself at midday," said Matilda, attempting to stare her son down.

"Betsy?"

"It's fine by me, Kenny. Your mom is the money bags. She has a right to be in the team."

"Thank you, Betsy. I take it you wish to be commander-in-chief."

"Yes."

"What am I?" asked Kenny.

"Director of manpower and resources."

"What?"

"If this thing gets out of hand we'll need a combat wing."

"You're kidding me. These guys are civilians."

"Kenny, don't underestimate a civilian who is fighting to preserve his family, ego, money and social status – and probably in that order."

"She's right, Kenny, which is why that guy Street will be intelligence officer."

"Is mom correct, Betsy?"

"It's how it has to be, Kenny," said Betsy, placing a hand on his arm. "You can see that, can't you?"

Kenny pulled his hand away abruptly, scowling heavily, and accidentally sending his wineglass crashing to the deck.

"Kenny!" called his mother sharply, and for a moment Betsy thought he was about to be humiliated by being ordered to go to his room. With relief Betsy heard Matilda say he'd find the small broom and dust tray in cleaning cupboard.

With catlike speed Kenny moved off and returned with the broom and tray.

"What will mom's role be?" he asked, while sweeping in quick, efficient strokes.

"Finance and training."

"Training what?" Matilda asked, surprised.

"We're not going to be using explosives or machine guns – sorry Kenny," laughed Betsy. "We're going to search for the sucker element within each Kennedy we go after. Let their own willful passions or outright greed lead to their downfall, though I doubt we'll be able to actually ruin any of them as they're a hardened, resilient breed and will be supportive among themselves."

"I don't understand?" said Kenny, standing with the tray of broken glass in one hand, steady as a rock, and waving the small red-handled broom in the other hand.

"She'd going to attempt to sucker them, using con artists who I'll be expected to train."

"Very good," Matilda. "Very impressive in fact. Yes, Kenny – we are going to try to rip them off through their own greed, but only the family members who have done us harm."

"Let's take out the lot."

"Spoken like a solider, Kenny, but your mom and I are women. We wish only to discipline those who have been naughty."

"I can't see any role in this for me," Kenny said, showing his disappointment.

"Some of our field recruits will be pretty young women, Kenny; no doubt you will find something to do," Betsy said dryly. "They will need to be met off aircraft, taken to their hotel and protected.

"While not attempting to cheer you up, Kenny it is likely that some covert operations will be necessary in the manipulation of the enemy."

"Thanks, Betsy," Kenny said gratefully. "You guys have my fullest support. I'm off now to learn about the operation of the car grooming facility from Terry O'Reilly as I take over at the end of the month."

Kenny kissed his mom goodbye and then kissed Betsy. As far as Betsy could tell the only differences in the light embraces and kisses were that he kissed his mom on the cheek; while kissing her on the cheek he also pulled her around slightly as he kissed her, presumably to ensure his mom could see his hand cupping Betsy's left breast.

Betsy looked straight at Matilda as soon as Kenny's head drew away and blushed ever so slightly when Matilda gave her a distinct wink.

They leaned over the deck railing and waved to Kenny and he drove down the tree-lined drive below the house. Betsy reached behind to flatten one of her dress straps and Matilda said she'd do it for her.

Betsy straightened and Matilda came in behind, her perfume still potent. Betsy shivered as she felt the stone in one of Matilda's rings scrape gently across her back. Then the hand flipped and returned across her back, softly.

"My god, what wonderful creamy soft skin – it's practically unblemished. Oh, to be young again."

Was this it, the reason for Matilda's interest in her welfare? Matilda had a reputation for being pugnacious but had shown nothing but softness and kindness towards Betsy ever since they'd met at Royce's funeral. On the other hand, advancing just over two million dollars as first mortgage over Betsy's newspaper offices and printing plant was surely a little over the top for someone desiring a friendly hug?

Matilda had solid features – flesh under her chin, she was well padded across the shoulders, her bust was 38 probably C and she showed early signs of acquiring the belly and ass of an ageing woman, though not yet not pronounced.

Indeed Matilda's ass was quite attractive as Betsy had already noticed earlier when her hostess was walking to the kitchen. It was probably Matilda had a home gym – of course! Betsy had that question answered: Kenny was bound to have a gym with all the bells and whistles and would be just the kind of guy to urge his mom to keep in shape.

"We all get older Matilda, it's just like the water going down to the falls; it cannot be stopped. Yet if I may be so bold, you are a good looking woman and very trim for a mother of a thirty-plus boy."

"You can be a personal as you wish with me, dear, and thank you for not saying very trim for a woman of your age. You are so considerate, Betsy."

Betsy turned to smile and as she did so noticed Matilda's gaze drop to her lips with noticeable intensity. Betsy lifted her head slightly, closed her eyes and waited. The wait was minuscule, just the time it would take a keen woman to think, "Should I?"

Warm, soft and very tentative lips touched Betsy's.

Betsy swung her left hand up and around, to hold it against the back of Matilda's head as an open invitation to prolong the kiss if she wished. Matilda remained where she was, her softness pressing into Betsy's back.

Betsy was unworried – she would ride with the flow; it Matilda hungered for something she would give it to her, and why not? Matilda had acted as her champion at the funeral and afterwards; she deserved to be rewarded. Whether she wanted a reward in flesh was not yet clear.

"Bee-bop, bee-bop."

Betsy pulled away.

"Excuse me Matilda dear, but this is no ordinary call. It's on my secure phone."

As they broke apart Matilda ran a hand down Betsy's cheek and looked at her extremely affectionately.

God, she wants flesh all right, concluded Betsy, feeling a tiny rush blood to her midsection.

"Betsy," she said, answering the call.

"Right, nice one."

"Wait. I need a ride home. Can you come to Matilda McBride's. Spur Road, number 27; you two should meet.

"Right."

Betsy went to her handbag and pulled out a comb.

"That was Mike Street. He'll be here in fifteen minutes. You two should meet. As part of my camouflage he had chosen a Kennedy I should try to cultivate indiscreetly so that it's noticed – Casey.'

"Good idea but that choice is ridiculous – Casey Kenney is married to super bitch gold-digger Kelly and they are supposedly the happiest married couple of their era."

"Apparently Mike will reveal why that is not so when he arrives. Let me help you clear away, I've had a lovely time and it's amazing we seem have feelings for one another."

"We do?"

"Oh, yes, Matilda. My motto has been never let a great prospect slip you. Until today that automatically applied only to men but, hey, we're into the twenty-first century and the old mores no longer apply so indiscriminately."

Matilda looked a little rattled.

"But why me, Betsy? I'm almost old enough to be your mother."

Betsy walked over and held Matilda.

"Because you asked, though not verbally, darling, and I found myself reacting with excitement.

"We'll have to take about it Matilda, because if you want me you'll have to share me and I'm worried about what will happen to the friendship developing between us when the lust dissipates. We must be practical as well as caring."

"You're a smart young lady, Betsy – it's a quality I recognized from the outset. I also feel I shall love you no matter what eventuates. It's as if my soul reaches out to you.

"Look, I keep a lovely veteran launch in a boatshed below the falls. Let's you and I go for a leisurely cruise together on Sunday – you bring the wine and starters, and I'll take care of everything else."

"That would be wonderful, Matilda. Sunday is the one day in the week I can call my own."

Beer pot notwithstanding, Mike made an impressionable debut into the life and times of multi-millionaire recluse Matilda McBride.

"Here, these are for you," he said, thrusting a big bouquet of cut flowers into the arms of startled Matilda.

"Betsy described you as an attractive fifty-year-old with a big of sting still left in her tail. You look forty-five and that's one awfully well sculptured tail."

Betsy couldn't believe her eyes, watching Mrs Hardnosed McBride's face turn from salmon to pink to lobster: Matilda was virtually overcome with embarrassment.

"Well, nah, um thank you Michael if I may call you Michael."

"Michael is fine, Matilda. You look as if you can handle yourself, which is contrary to what one could say to the majority of women in this world."

Betsy wondered if she should intervene, but the opportunity was snatched from here.

"You have high expectations from women, Michael?"

"That's an awkward question to answer, Matilda. It depends on the purpose of your usage of women – whether a resource for alternative thinking, a receptacle for one's sperm, a Fairy Queen to enhance one's community or a pal to converse with capable of providing thoughts that fly free of the restraints that males encapsulate their thinking."

"Well, what do we have here – a male who acknowledges females as a source of alternative thinking and then capable of soaring behind the male's inbred way of dotting every 'i' and 't'?

"That's about it. Already I have amassed an impossible build up a pressure that must be released, Matilda."

"Oh, what is the problem?

Betsy flushed, very aware that these two people, although not yet in synch, were talking mating talk. She had to end it; they were perfectly capable of continuing when alone in each other's company.

"Casey Kennedy, why him? asked Betsy sternly.

Mike reacted immediately, the verbal sexual foreplay pushed aside.

"Because he personifies the image that the Kennedys romanticize is theirs. He is handsome, articulate, a renowned seducer, intelligent, compassionate and his consummate passion is making money.