The call came in very unexpectedly. The voice on the other end was a little bit frantic, and at first I didn't recognize it was my lovely niece Jessica.
The 24-year-old had been married four years, had two children, and worked for a law firm in Philadelphia as an administrative assistant. Jessica and her family lived several hours away, so I only got to see them at Thanksgiving or sometimes other holidays. Her husband Daryl was a hard-working taskmaster who loved fast cars, his young kids and sweet Jessica.
We exchanged small talk, the entire time with me wondering what prompted the young woman to give me a call out of the blue. In fact, at first I asked if she wanted to speak with my wife, only to be told that, no, I was the person she wanted to speak with.
"Uncle Rob, can you talk, uh, privately? We need your help." Of course I could.
For the next few minutes I listed as Jessica told of her mean boss revising her work hours, a fact which forced her to leave his employ as she couldn't find proper babysitting for the young ones. From there she moved over to Daryl, and how he was in a car accident that along with her own car suffering a break down and extended service left them without transportation. Then there were doctor bills, loan payments and, well, you get the picture. Times were tough in their household, and they needed a loan.
Normally I wouldn't have thought twice about lending her some money. They were a nice young couple, I had watcher her grow up from a little girl to a smart and pretty young woman. She was clearly my favorite niece, and I would help if I could. I knew they were good for it, even if Jessica was out of a job at the moment. Heck, I remember when I needed a loan and my parents helped me our.
It was, though, a difficult time for me. My own daughter had some pretty hefty tuition bills and I had only recently taken a second loan to do some long-needed renovations to our house. There wasn't a lot of money sitting around for family loans.
Jessica was also eye-candy to me, a look, not touch, family member. You know the kind, young, innocent, pretty. Jessica was always the hot, slutty teenager who turned guys heads, mine included. Of course, being family (oh, yes, and the fact that I am 30 years older than she) I only allowed my eyes and mind to drift toward the girl. Over the years she'd bat an eyelash and I'd spring for a new outfit or help fund her shoe fetish.
We talked a while more and I promised to give her a call in a day or two to see what I could do.
That night over dinner I mentioned the call to my wife, Cheryl, who immediately went ballistic.
"You didn't fall for that bullshit story did you," spat Cheryl, changing in seconds from a normal woman into a bitch. "She's been asking everyone who will listen for money. I guess she ran out of people to call so she's trying to get old pushover like you to give her money."
I couldn't believe my ears. Jessica had always been a favorite niece of my wife as well as me. It took some doing, but I finally got to the bottom of the matter.
"She's been gambling and doing some kind of drugs," said my wife. "That's why she lost her job. And the cars? She was drop-dead drunk and crashed into a fricken stop light. They don't have insurance and that's why it hasn't been fixed. She spent the night in the drunk tank and her parents had to bail her out the next day. That's why she lost her job, she wasn't there again.
"The kids are with her sister Carol, and from what I hear Daryl is no better. He crashed his car alright, because he was out joyriding with his friends, showing off for some whores or something. I hear he was joyriding because he came home and caught Jessica making out with a friend of his. They are trouble, and you stay away from it. You are by no means going to lend them a dime."
I was stunned by the disclosure. I never imagined Daryl and Jessica to be anything but even-keeled, loving parents. Oh, before the kids, they were wild. But in recent years the "kids" aged as they had kids of their own.
News of Jessica being on drugs really confused me, as she always maintained that those who "used" were only hurting themselves. It took forever to get to sleep that night as my mind kept thinking of my niece and her problems.
The next day I called my niece back and confronted her on the issue. I told her I didn't appreciate her lying to me, and advised her to get some counseling. She hemmed and hawed but gave no indication my wife's assessment wasn't true.
I spent the rest of the day upset with not being able to help the needy girl but understanding that a little tough love was what she had Daryl needed to get their life back on track. Knowing that her parents would take care of the kids made the decision a lot easier.
That night I attempted to get some loving from my wife, who pushed me away (as she had most of the time in recent months) and I moped off to bed in the guest room. It was not a night of fitful sleep.
I battled the Beltway traffic the next morning, and just minutes after arriving my assistant put through a call from Jessica. "Uncle Rob, I am so very sorry for lying to you," said the throaty voice of my niece. "You are my final hope. I don't know where else to turn. We're going to lose the house, and Daryl is too proud to beg. But I'm begging."
"Jessica, what about the drugs?"
"It's mostly painkillers, and some grass," said the girl, coming clean. "Mom told me she spoke with Aunt Cheryl, and told her everything. I should have told you the truth. But it's so embarrassing."
Jessica paused, and I didn't know what to say.
"Yes, I lost my job," she continued, "but I have been in counseling. I've kicked the habit for now. I am not perfect but I am trying."
My mind wandered to better days when Jessica was just a girl. We didn't see the family a lot, but when we did she was always the smart sister, the good kid, the hard-worker, and, yes, the looker. Jessica was pretty as a girl, flirtatious as a teenager, and beautiful as a bride. There was more than one occasion that I'd be screwing my wife and thinking of the little girl.
Hey, it was innocent fun. I also fantasized about Cheryl Ladd, and sometimes I'd say her name out loud when I was screwing my wife. Lucky for me it wasn't another woman's name.
Jessica spoke more of how she had changed her life, wanted to go straight, but I knew it was bullshit. She was saying all the right things, but I knew I was being used. It was too easy to hit me up for money for grass or whatever, I knew that, so I was very non-committal. We talked a while more and agreed to speak later in the week when I'd be up in Philly on business.
Cheryl asked me twice whether I'd caved in and given Jessica a loan, or worse yet, cash, and I assured her that wasn't the case and that it was a closed issue.
Still, that night, I fantasized about the situation as I made love to my hand. How low is that?
On Friday I finished my meetings near City Hall at 3. I called Jessica and she agreed to meet me at the 30th Street Amtrak station for coffee before my 6 o'clock return trip. An hour later I watched her walk across the lobby of the station --- she looked adorable in her tight tee top and mid-thigh skirt. It reminded me of the days when she'd come to a party looking like a slut, low cut top, tight jeans. She was always a looker.
She arrived at my table, twirled, and said she hoped I liked her outfit. "I thought I should dress the part when looking for a loan," said Jessica coyly.
