Original Story by: Sethp
Updated Story by: CB_Grl_Dani
AN: With the blessing of the author I have created this revised version of their excellent story. If you haven't read Sethp's story I highly recommend it. Read, enjoy and let me know what you think.
Surrogate: One appointed to act in the place of another.
Shane Davis sat alone in the garage, again. When he came out here the thirty year old father of three had meant to work on his motorcycle, but once he settled onto his wooden stool by the workbench, he was unable to move. He'd been unable to do much of anything for months. The sudden death of his wife Karen had shattered him mentally and if weren't for the kids he would probably have gone off the deep end a long time ago. As it stood he was on a leave of absence from work (almost to the point of unpaid leave) and was now at the point that he was barely keeping it together for his three children. His children had lost so much already, Shane had to make sure they didn't lose him too. But as he sat there in the still space of the garage, he knew the truth. He knew he was inadequate for the job of a single parent. He was barely a man any longer. The six-foot-two-inch tall man sighed in resignation at that thought. He ran his right hand through his unkept black hair moving it out of his face. He then took stock of the stubble on his face which was a week old. He was lost and he didn't know what it would take to regain control of his life.
That was when the doorbell rang. "What... who the fuck is it at this time of night?" Shane grumbled as he went into the house and to the front door, irritated at being disturbed from doing nothing. He pulled open the door and froze.
"Camile?" He asked stupidly as he stared at the annoyed face of his forty-six year old mother-in-law.
"Oh good, you didn't turn into a complete idiot Shane. There maybe hope for you yet," she said, with a little too much acid on her tongue.
"Wha... what are you doing here?" Shane inquired.
"I'm here to help you get back on your feet." She informs me standing on my stoop. "Well... are you going to let me in?" she asks. Not waiting for an answer Camile pushed her way past her son-in-law. "There are two more bags by the sidewalk that you could get for me. I'm going up to say hi to the kids." Before I could comment she was already walking up the stairs.
Shane stood in the doorway, mindlessly, for a minute before forcing himself to go out to the curb and pick up the bags that the Uber driver had unloaded. What was Camile doing here uninvited and unannounced? Except for the week after the funeral, they had barely spoken in the last few months, and truthfully he couldn't really stand her. As long as Shane had known her Camile was a giant gossip who was a bossy know-it-all. If she wasn't drinking accessively she was smoking like a chimney. The drinking he could tolerate (as he was no saint himself these days) but the smoking was another thing entirely.
However Shane knew that he was sinking and he'd never been so happy to see anyone in his whole life. Shane ventured out to the sidewalk to collect her bags and bring them in. Once Hurricane Camile was settled in Shane poured himself and Camile a stiff drink, and then sat down in the living room. Camile eventually came back to the living room and sat down and gratefully accepted the drink.
"Camile," Shane began.
"Shhhh," she said, cutting him off. "The family knows that you need some help so here I am." She states taking a large gulp of the drink I just poured. "I'm here for the kids mainly, they've been telling me how things are here, but I'm also here to help you. You look like you need reinforcements." She drained half her glass.
"The kids don't," Shane began, but Camile cut him off again.
"They're behind on their homework."
"We'll catch up."
"You forgot April's recital and her school lunch yesterday."
"That was a onetime thing, and she got a hot lunch,"
"They haven't had a bath all week. They told me."
"I..." That's where I stopped. There really was no excuse for the kids not getting a bath at least every other day. Unfortunately Camile didn't stop.
"The kitchen trash is overflowing, the grass hasn't been mowed in weeks and fruit flies are living in the kitchen sink. When is the last time you cleaned the bathrooms?"
Shane knew that answer. It was never. Well, not since Karen had died. "Look," Shane began.
Camile took hold of his hand. "I know. I know Shane. It's overwhelming and I should have come here weeks ago. We've all been so sad. I'm here to help until we get things turned around, and I'll stay as long as you need me. That's what family does."
Shane thought of a thousand things to say and protest against, but simply said, "Thanks. Thank you."
Camile drained the rest of her drink. "I needed that. I also need to take a shower and change. Can I use your bathroom?"
"Yes," Shane said.
"Thanks, and can you get me another drink when I get out and bring my bags up to the spare bedroom."
"Uh...about that spare room," Shane mumbled, but Camile had already charged up the stairs. He had thrown all of his deceased wife's stuff in there. It was a big pile of junk, papers, exercise equipment, make-up, clothing, and assorted stuff from her life, that would take days to clear out. He decided that he would give Camile his bed and sleep on the couch for the next few weeks. It wouldn't be that bad.
Shane took his mother-in-law's bags up to the master bedroom and then changed the sheets on the bed and cleared away the beer bottles and candy bar wrappers. He could hear her singing in the shower. This could be really good for the kids, he thought. Satisfied that the bedroom was clean and tidy enough, he went back downstairs and made Camile another drink and went and sat on the couch, flipping through shows on the T.V. Camile came down and joined him after she was done. She was wrapped up in a red terry cloth robe that was a little too small for her size. Her large tits were threatening to pop out of the material. She thanked him for the drink sat down on the chair.
