Following Orders

You glance back over your shoulder as you go. Wow. That had been some experience. You weren't quite sure how to feel about it yet. It had been simultaneously unnerving and elating.

You rush to your mother's office. She wasn't there. You weren't actually expecting her here, the excuse of checking her email had obviously been a ruse. They weren't in the living room either. It is then you hear Elsie's voice upstairs.

"Mom? Mom? Let me in. Please. Please Momma."

You hurry up the stairs to see your sister at the door to your mom's bedroom. She looks at you, concern etched in her pretty face. "Hey Jesse. She's locked herself..."

Without warning the door suddenly opens and there was your mother, smiling as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"Mom." Elsie says as she steps forward and rests her hands on her mother's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

She nods. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry about the scene I caused. It's...it's been quite a day or so, hasn't it?"

Neither you nor Elsie could disagree with that.

Your mom reaches out and strokes each of you along the side of the head. There is a look of such tender maternal love in her face that it can't help but touch your heart. "Look at you two. My two perfect..." She trails off, overcome with emotion once more. "Could I..." She laughs. "...it's silly but...could we brush each other's hair. Remember El, how we used to do that?"

Elsie now had a sweet smile on her face. "Of course I do! We used to talk and laugh and brush each other's hair. I liked that."

Your mother shoots you a wink. "She used to talk about you so much Jesse. She would go on and on about you. Now I know why."

Elsie blushes and giggles. "Mommm!" She says bashfully as the two hug. They turn to you and Elsie asks. "Come on Jesse, let us brush your hair."

Your mother adds. "Ohh! Maybe do his nails too! Do you want to look pretty today sweetie? It's okay if you don't, but if you do...let us help you!" Elsie's mood continues to brighten at the thought of all of you spending time together.

"Uhm..." You blurt out suddenly. "...uh...breakfast is...getting cold." You point back toward the stairs.

They both look at you a bit puzzled. "Oh. Okay Jesse." Your mother then shoots you a suggestively sexy smile. The way she was simultaneously mother and lover was...wow! She continues. "You must be hungry after last night."

You nod. "Famished. Come on...such a nice meal should be shared. Let's not keep Fiona waiting."

They grin and nod. "Okay sweetie, okay. Maybe after breakfast then. I'd like to brush your pretty hair and make you..."

"Um." You interrupt. "I think...Fiona and I had plans after breakfast."

"Oh." Your mother's face falls.

"She could join us!" Elsie pipes up. "I've haven't been able to brush her hair since I was little. It's soooo beautiful. Long and blonde. So different from the rest of us. She's so beautiful, isn't she?" Your mother nods proudly. El looks at you. "Now that she's not so...er...uptight. Do you think she'd let me do that Jesse? Or help her with her makeup? Or...with a bath maybe."

"Hrm." You hum neither a yes or a no.

Elsie stops and turns to her mother once more. "Wait, wait, wait. Mom. You sure you're okay? Listen, if you want to be with Aunt Peg...I am sure we could figure something out."

Your mother gives her a soft patient smile. "You three mean the world to me Elsie. You mean absolutely everything to me. Peggy will understand..." She then whispers cryptically. "...she always has." She shakes her moment of melancholy off and grins once more. "And now that I have a bun in the oven...well...I made my choice. The only choice!" She sighs contentedly. "Fiona seems to have everything figured out. She'll look after us. Don't you two worry."

Elsie looks to you very much with worry but you simply repeat your mother's words. "You're right Mom. She'll look after us. Now come on! Let's eat!" You place a hand at the base of each of their backs and push them gently toward the stairs. With them out in front of you the three of you head toward the kitchen and your waiting mistress.