Escape From Poverty

"It was her granddaughter's before she was killed," he solemnly replied. "It almost killed Mrs. Williams too when her daughter and granddaughter died."

"Oh – I'm so sorry," I responded. "What was her granddaughter's name?"

"Same as you little girl's – Lisa."

I teared up. John squeezed my hand. "Today was the happiest I've seen Mrs. Williams in a long time. Thank you."

Holy shit! He was thanking me for Emma rescuing me from killing myself and my baby and providing me the best meal and surroundings of my life.

I found out as I directed John to my shitty apartment what kind of car we were riding in. A Rolls Royce Wraith. I had never heard of it. John smiled and told me that it was the premier luxury car in the world. I believed it. I guarantee you that it was the first one in history to ever come down the street my apartment was on, based upon the double and triple takes from everyone who we passed.

I decided not to tell Matt anything about my day, other than that I went to the park with Lisa. I made Matt the best dinner that I could, and was more upbeat than I had been in months. He noticed my good mood and took advantage of it by fucking me twice that night. It proved to me that the brain is the most important sex organ since my excellent mental disposition allowed me to enjoy the sex more than I had 90% of the time in the past.

I was so excited when I got up the next morning that I was a human dynamo. After taking care of Lisa's needs I showered and shaved my legs and crotch so as to be nice and clean for the doctor. I also put on my best outfit and Lisa and I were out in front of the apartment building at 9:30, anxiously awaiting John's arrival. He was right on time, put Lisa in her car seat, the stroller in the trunk, and I rode in front with him again.

Emma greeted me warmly when I arrived at the mansion, and introduced me to Dr. Barnes, a distinguished looking man in his fifties, and Dr. Morrison, a well-dressed blond woman in her thirties. "I'll take good care of Lisa while the doctors examine and talk to you," Emma gushed. Lisa excitedly flapped her arms and cooed as a smiling Emma took her into her arms.

Dr. Barnes, in Dr. Morrison's presence, gave me a complete physical. He prescribed a birth control shot that would last for three months and would have no adverse effect on my lactation – a new term for me that I easily grasped. I readily agreed to the shot but demurred "Is this covered by Medicaid, because I can't afford it otherwise."

"This is covered by Mrs. Williams, and you have absolutely no need to be concerned about it," he replied as he gave me the shot.

After that Dr. Morrison and I went into an ornate room on the first floor of the mansion that she called "The Study," and sat down in two comfortable chairs about four feet apart and facing each other. We just chatted mostly about my pregnancy and how I was feeling with my new baby, my relationship with Matt, all sorts of things. I didn't really know it until later but found out that she is a psychiatrist specializing in postpartum depression – the first time that I had ever heard that term.

After a forty five minute talk with Dr. Morrison, she and I joined Dr. Barnes, Emma and Lisa, who was now asleep in Emma's arms. Emma greeted me warmly. "I hope that you don't mind, but while you were talking with Dr. Morrison I had Dr. Barnes examine Lisa."

"No; that's great," I replied. "Is she OK?" I asked, directing the question to Dr. Barnes.

"Charlotte, Dr. Morrison and I would like to have a discussion with you about your health and Lisa's health and include Emma in the discussion. Is that OK with you?" Dr. Barnes replied.

"Sure – it's not only OK with me, I'd appreciate Emma's take on things too," I responded.

For the next twenty minutes Dr. Barnes and Dr. Morrison told me everything about my physical and mental situation. The bottom line was that I – and Lisa since she got her food from me – was slightly malnourished, and was suffering from postpartum depression. They recommended a diet for me – much like what Maria had served me for lunch the day before – and told me that it was very likely that I could avoid medication for my depression if I followed a lifestyle regime that they recommended.

"You need to be sure to get at least seven hours of sleep a night – or take one or more naps to get you to seven or eight hours. You need time for yourself away from your baby, sunshine when you can get it, good nutrition which will not only solve your malnourishment problem but will greatly help your mental outlook, and daily exercise, at least one half hour of moderate to intense exercise." Dr. Morrison related to me.

"I don't know how I can do all that, though," I remarked while wringing my hands.

"That's where I come in," Emma said. "I expect you here every day from ten until four. I'll make sure – with the help of my staff – that you do everything that you're supposed to."

"But --- but – I can't expect you to do all that for me," I stammered. "I mean, that's taking advantage of you."

"Nonsense," Emma laughed. "I'd consider it an honor to help you and darling Lisa out, and you'll be helping me fill the void in my heart from the death of my daughter and granddaughter. However, it will cost you. You will have to get your GED and then at least a junior college degree, you'll have to help around the house, and you'll have to be nice to my son Warren."

"You have a son?" I asked – that was the first that I had ever heard of that.

"Yes, he's coming here tomorrow for at least a three month visit. Let's have the lunch that Maria has prepared, and then we'll let the good doctors attend to their other patients," Emma said, standing up and gently handing Lisa to me – although with a big smile and the word "Please," Dr. Morrison immediately snatched her from me.

This time we ate in the dining room. The table was the biggest that I had ever seen. It could have fit thirty people. The four of us – and Lisa – ate at one end. This time the meal consisted of salmon, something called balsamic tomato couscous, whole grain bread, and non-fat ice cream and strawberries for desert. I tried not to eat like a truck driver – I don't think that I succeeded given the sly smiles from my luncheon companions and how Maria gushed that I made her feel like the best cook in the world by the way that I devoured her food and verbally complimented her.

That afternoon Emma, her personal assistant Denise, and I set up a schedule for Monday-Friday when Matt was at work, and perhaps for part of the day on future Sundays, that took into account everything that the doctors had told us, as well as the plans that Emma had for my self-improvement. Emma's personal assistant Denise was a statuesque black woman in her late twenties who was clearly very sharp mentally, and even if formal also quite friendly. I had always been taught that black people were stupid, lazy and dishonest. I realized after ten minutes with Denise that just like my stereotype about Hispanics had been blown away by Maria that my prejudice against black people was equally absurd. In just two days my closet racism was completely driven away.

When John dropped me off back home at four that day I might have been in the best place mentally that I had ever been since I turned eighteen.

Even the squalor of my living conditions, and Matt being in a bad mood Saturday, couldn't get me down. I had the possibility of a real life in front of me. I didn't know quite how it would work out, but somehow I would make it.

****************

When I got to the mansion on Monday and I was greeted warmly by Emma. After a short chat she gave Lisa to Denise – who was only too happy to hold her, then she said "There's someone I want you to meet – my son Warren. I do have to warn you, however, that he has autism so don't expect any sparkling conversation."

I had no clue what the hell "autism" was, but I assumed that it was some kind of disease.

"I can't catch it, can I?" I innocently asked Emma.

"Catch what?" she asked perplexed. Then she suddenly got a look of realization on her face and said "Oh, no, Charlotte, it's a disorder, not a disease. It just means that Warren has trouble interacting in a normal way with people. He normally attends a special school for people with his condition, but will be home with us for three months or so."

We went into another room and there sitting in a chair but apparently not doing much was a big guy with long hair blond and a blond and brown speckled beard. "Warren, darling; this is the young woman I was telling you about – Charlotte. Say hello."

At first there was no reaction, but taking the bull by the horns I went over to him, gently put my hand on his shoulder and said "Hi, Warren. I'm so pleased to meet you."

At first he flinched when I touched him. But then he turned and looked at me and his eyes got wide. He stood up and said "Charlotte is beautiful. Charlotte is a princess."

I giggled. "Not a princess, Warren, but if Emma has her way maybe someday I'll be a lady."

Then Warren hugged me. It wasn't a crushing hug, but I could sense how strong he was. And he really was a big dude, probably six feet four inches tall, well over 200 pounds. I hugged him back. When he released his hug he took my hand and said "I can show Charlotte the pool."

As we turned to walk toward the pool I saw a look of shock on Emma's face. "Is there something wrong, Emma?" I asked, concerned that I had fucked up somehow.

"No, no...uh nothing at all," she stuttered. It was the first time that I had seen her at a loss for words.

Warren and I walked around the pool and the adjacent grounds. He held my hand the whole time in a strong yet tender way. He pointed out all of the objects that we encountered, and even had an explanation of what some of them were. Actually some, such as the pump for the pool, I had no clue about so I was actually learning something from him. Occasionally he would stop, look at me, and say "You are a princess Charlotte," which never ceased to cause me to giggle.

After we had been walking around for a while Emma approached us carrying Lisa, who was fussing. "I think Lisa is getting hungry," Emma said.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"11:45," Emma replied.

"I didn't know that so much time had passed. Warren and I were really enjoying ourselves," I responded.

Warren seemed reluctant to let go of my hand. "Warren, this little girl is Lisa, Charlotte's baby. She has to nurse her now so let go of her hand."

"Lisa is dead," Warren innocently replied after he reluctantly released my hand.

That caught Emma up short for a second, before she recovered and calmly said "No, that was your niece Lisa. This is another Lisa, Charlotte's baby."

Warren got wide-eyed looking at Lisa. "Charlotte's Lisa won't die, will she?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"No, no darling, she certainly won't. She'll grow up to be a pretty young lady just like her mother," Emma replied, squeezing Warren's hand.

"Can I watch Charlotte feed Lisa?" he asked.

"Of course you can, Warren," I said with a big smile before Emma could say anything. The three of us sat by the pool, me, Lisa and Emma in the shade and Warren in the sun. He looked on with fascination while I nursed Lisa first on one boob, then the other. He would occasionally make comments or ask questions, some of the most memorable "How do your boobies make milk?" and "Does it hurt when Lisa sucks out your milk?"

After Lisa was sated I refastened my nursing bra while Emma burped her. Warren watched me do that and obviously got a look at my tits, but for some reason I wasn't the least bit self-conscious. "You have big boobies," he remarked; he was right, I had grown from a C cup to a D cup as a result of my pregnancy.

Emma and I just laughed.

The three of us, and Lisa, went in for lunch and were joined by Denise. Warren insisted on sitting next to me. It was another fabulous and healthy meal, and once again I ate an embarrassingly large amount, as much as Warren did even though he had to outweigh me by at least eighty pounds if not one hundred and twenty.

After lunch two tutors arrived; one for Warren and one for me, and we went to separate rooms in the house to work with the tutors.

Just before I was getting ready to leave, Emma came up to me and gave me a big hug. "I have never, in the twenty years that he has been alive, seen Warren react to anyone the way that he reacted to you. It was fabulous. I hope that you don't mind his attention – I'm sure that he'll want to regularly hang out with you."

"I really like him!" I earnestly replied while snuggling Lisa. "What's with the beard and long hair, though?"

"That is just recent. He has such a handsome face I wish that he would shave and get a haircut," she replied, slightly exasperated.

"One of the few things that I'm good at in life is cutting hair. Mind if I bring my scissors and electric shears with me tomorrow?" I chuckled.

"If you could get him to cut his hair and shave I would love that," Emma replied, giving me and Lisa another hug.

The next day as soon as I got Lisa situated with the nanny that Emma had hired to be on call when she had to be out running a couple of charities that she was involved with, I tracked down Warren. He was very happy to see me, gave me a hug, and repeated his mantra "Charlotte is a princess."

"Say, Warren. I like to cut hair and shave people, but haven't been able to for a while. You have such a handsome face I would love to give you a haircut and shave. Are you OK with that?"

"YOU would do it? Not some barber?" he innocently inquired.

"No, just me – if you trust me, Warren," I said, this time initiating a hug.

He got a big grin on his face and exclaimed "WOW – sure!"

I found an old sheet to cover his torso with and a nice spot on an elevated backed stool in the kitchen to work on him, and got Maria's permission to be there – with my promise to stay out of her way. I took my time in cutting Warren's hair and shaving him. We had a constant banter as I was doing it, and it was clear that Warren thoroughly enjoyed my touch. After about an hour he was clean cut.

He really did look handsome. If he didn't have autism he could have had just about any woman he desired. When he looked at himself in the mirror he said "Charlotte did a great job. Thank you Charlotte; you are a princess."

After Warren and I interacted with Lisa for a while, and he intently watched me nurse her, again commenting on my large boobies, we ate lunch together. Then our tutors arrived and we worked separately with them for about two hours. By then, Emma was home.

Emma was thrilled at Warren's appearance, and he had no problem in singing my praises to Emma. "Charlotte did a great job," he said at least half a dozen times.

Warren and I got friendlier and friendlier as the week progressed, and Lisa really took to him too. She never cried while he was holding her, and he enjoyed making faces at her and lightly squeezing her toes and fingers – which universally caused her to giggle. Warren wanted to come home with me for the weekend, but Emma explained to him that I needed to go home to my husband but that I would be back Monday.

When I returned Monday, Emma hustled me and Lisa into the Study. "Charlotte, you're a miracle worker," she gushed.

"Say what?" was my perplexed and less than cultured reply.

"Warren has made more progress in the last week than he did in the last three years. His specialist saw him over the weekend and couldn't believe the progress. He attributed it to you."

"Wow; but I really didn't do anything, Emma. I was just friendly toward Warren because I really like him – and he's so cute."

"Well, it's obvious that he really likes and trusts you. Which brings up something; I need a favor from you," Emma said, sheepishly. I guess that she wasn't used to asking for favors, just granting them.

"Hey, Emma; you're turning my life around. My postpartum depression is virtually completely gone, I feel healthier than I ever can remember, and Lisa is thriving. I owe it all to you. I'd do anything for you."

Emma smiled. "OK, you asked for it. I want you to teach Warren to swim and to exercise with him on a daily basis. He has never been big on exercise in the past, and his specialist says that will do as much as anything to help him out. It will get the brain chemicals really flowing."

"I'd love to exercise with him, Emma; but I can't swim so I can't very well teach him," I replied.

"Even better; you can learn together!"

Emma doesn't let grass grow under her feet. She immediately hired a swim coach who would arrive the next day. After Warren and I hugged and chatted for a while I hit him with my plan. "Warren, I would love to use the pool but I don't know how to swim. Would you teach me?"

"I don't know how to swim either, Charlotte," he replied, slightly chagrined.

"Great! We can learn together. Would you do that for me, Warren, learn to swim at the same time that I do? Please!"

"Sure! It will be fun!" he responded.

I gave him a big hug and told him that I would ask Emma if someone could come by to start lessons – of course I already knew that it had been arranged, but Emma acted surprised then agreed when I asked her in front of Warren.

Before I left I pulled Emma aside and said "I forgot about one thing, Emma. I don't have a bathing suit."

"Not a problem," Emma grinned. "I'll have one waiting for you tomorrow."

I changed into the one piece bathing suit that Emma proudly gave me shortly after I arrived at the mansion the next day. It fit almost perfectly. It wasn't brand new, but was in great shape. When I exited the pool dressing room wearing it I asked Emma, who was playing with Lisa, "Does it fit OK?"

Emma had kind of a shocked look on her face. "It fits perfectly darling. I-I-uh, I've got to run," she then said, handing Lisa to Denise. "Have a good time," and then disappeared.

"Is something wrong?" I asked Denise.

"Just a second; wait here," Denise said as she carried Lisa into another room. She re-appeared a couple of minutes later with a photograph. "This is what spooked Mrs. Williams," Denise said, handing me the photo.

At first I thought that it was a photo of me – but how could it be since I had never worn that suit before. Then I noticed that the hair and some facial features were different. "That's Margaret Williams, Emma's dead daughter," Denise said.

That was more than a little unsettling. "Oh," was all that I could utter.

I had to put it out of my mind once the swimming lesson started to keep from drowning. Both Warren and I really enjoyed it – the water felt so good and the instructor was so nice and knowledgeable.

***************

It wasn't long before Warren and I were doing almost everything together including all sorts of exercises in addition to swimming, odd jobs around the mansion, trips to museums and art galleries with Lisa in tow, miniature golf; the whole shebang. Except when we were being separately tutored we were together most of the time, Monday through Friday, 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. Warren had a sad look on his face every Friday starting about 3:30, and I felt sad then too but tried my best not to show it.

Since I was with Warren all of the time, and had no history with him, I didn't really notice the remarkable changes that he had undergone. By the time that I had been going to Emma's mansion daily for three months she and the specialist who consulted with Warren told me that Warren was not going back to the school that he used to attend but because he was making such remarkable progress that he would stay at the mansion as long as my visits continued. In fact the specialist told me and Emma that if Warren's progress continued the way that it had the last three months that he was going to write a scientific paper about Warren, and that Warren would likely be able to hold down a decent productive job.