This is a story about Brenda, (not her real name). Most of it is factual, but some is purely fiction; I'll leave it up to you to decide which is which.
Chapter 1
Brenda came to my attention about 25 years ago. Her sister, (Marilyn), worked for me in our restaurant as counter staff and she was an amazing worker. She was 16 when she started, (high-school student), working weekends and during the summers. Aside from her ability, she was one of the most striking young women I had ever met; Strawberry blond, about 5'2", maybe 105lbs, but built like a centerfold model. She had, (what I considered to be), abnormally large breasts for someone so tiny, (maybe D cup), but they were amazingly firm. How do I know this? I saw her in a T-shirt several times, (not while she was working), and it was obvious she didn't always wear a bra. Her breasts stood proud and firm with no sag, (considering their size), at all.
Marylyn also had the personality to go with her ability and beauty, and a smile that would melt a hardened convict's heart. Needless to say she had her pick of suitors but she was focused on her career goals and after high school she went on to university to study medicine. She returned to our home town several years later with her new husband, also a doctor, where they set-up a family practice and have been here since. But I digress . . .
Neither Marilyn, nor Brenda had a good home life. Their father was a total ass; a drunk, violent and demanding of his daughters. Marilyn at time was submissive and quiet, but Brenda was a little spark plug. Her fire- red hair lent others to know she was a fighter and while only 14, she was already rebelling against her parents, (I always wondered why). Her mother did little, if anything, to calm the home situation and for some reason, my wife had befriended her. Certainly we needed a baby-sitter we could count on and trust, and I guess my wife just took to her and her situation; my wife's father was a drunk as well, but that's another story.
She began sitting for our two boys and after a year or so, she began spending the night if we got home too late. Both my boys loved her, and she even began helping around the house. I didn't understand why she never seemed to want to go home, and it was a little later when I found out more about her father. I couldn't say for sure, (at the time), but I had thought he was abusing her, (and Marilyn, for that matter), but I found out for sure one day when Brenda came to our house, obviously distressed and sporting a major bruise and welt on her left cheek. It was clear her father had hit her and I found out it wasn't the first time.
We told her to go home, (when her father wasn't there), and get some clothes, let her mother know what was going on, and she could stay with us for a few days ─ until things cooled down. Well, they didn't cool down at all. Brenda's father came to our place looking for her. Looking? More like demanding his daughter back like she was a borrowed tool or something. He was obviously drunk and he took a swing at me when I wouldn't let him past me and into the house. I just pushed him down, off the back deck and called the police. I charged him with assault and they charged him with drunk driving, creating a disturbance and a host of other charges ─ he was well known to the local constabulary.
A week or so passed and this time he came into the restaurant, drunk and calling me out. He was extremely vulgar and accused me, (in the middle of a crowded restaurant), of having sex with his then 15 year old daughter. I called the police again but he took another swing at me before they arrived. I lost it. I pounded him mercilessly for about a minute. When the police arrived they didn't even look at me. They arrested him and took him away, kicking and screaming.
During the time leading up to his trial he was telling everyone, (who would listen), that we stole his daughter and he was going to "get me" for it. There was a startling revelation which came out — he was, in fact, not only physically abusing his daughters, but sexually abusing them as well. Marilyn first, and when she finally began to resist he turned on Brenda. This amounted to yet more charges against him and to make a long story short, he was sentenced to 6 years for Assault, (on me), Sexual Battery and Sexual Interference on Marilyn and Brenda, and I forget the rest — too bad it wasn't more. Funny thing about 'justice'; it comes in many forms. While in prison, it came to light about him and his past with his two daughters. I understand he spent several weeks, several times, in the infirmary healing from the merciless beatings he took for raping his little girls. It seems even cons have a code, and some things are taboo.
Chapter 2
So it went for the next few years. Brenda had become part of our family and I became her pseudo father. It was great for all of us; we got a live-in baby sitter, Brenda had a safe and loving place to live and with coaching and urging, she even did a lot better in school. She even got her driver's license and my wife let her use her car from time to time. We threw her a major birthday party for her 18th birthday and I was beginning to 'notice' her; she was changing, growing, maturing into a woman. My home life seemed idyllic, but that was only on the surface. I learned why my wife wanted an easily accessed baby sitter ─ she was out screwing around.
I had long suspected her of extra marital activity, but when I found out for sure I was devastated. We finally had it out and she took-off to be with her new, police officer boy-friend. If not for Brenda I don't know what I would have done. She looked after the boys while I worked and as I became more and more depressed, she did more and more to make a normal home life. Occasionally, my wife would return to visit the boys, but no matter how much pleading and crying they did, she wouldn't come back to stay; not that I wanted her to; she was dead to me.