Samantha slowly began to get back in circulation. As she had promised, her mother bought her a car which gave her the freedom to come and go as she more or less pleased.
Her mother also got her a membership in her club. There she could swim, play tennis, have lunch and meet people her own age in a variety of ways.
Of course the fact that she was a Harding didn't hurt her at all. The name was both respected and feared and envied depending upon which person you asked.
Samantha was sought after. There was a certain amount of prestige in being seen with her. She was a prodigal daughter finally come home.
She also was rich. Rich beyond most people's comprehension. The man who married her would be set up financially for the rest of his life. That was no secret at all.
Other women liked her too. She didn't play her hand to hand, lord various things over them and they accepted her as an equal.
In short, she became very popular very quickly. She was asked to sit on various committees of various charity events and while she didn't accept all of the invitations that were offered her she nevertheless accepted enough of them so that her time was precious to her.
She did manage to keep enough spare time for herself, still feeling a little insecure about getting too deeply involved in the social swing of things.
She always held back a little which in turn made her all the more desirable. This was not construed as being snobbish either.
It was looked upon as a natural shyness, a somewhat desirable quality that it was hoped she would grow out of in good time.
Martha was greatly pleased. Her daughter seemed to have a sensible head on her shoulders. She always came home at a decent hour.
Her choice of dates could never be questioned and if she was putting out for them she did it in such a way so that the question was never raised.
Adults liked her too. She was polite and respectful and didn't seem to have some of that youthful fire that so often was self-destructive.
Cordova was happy, too. In spite of the fact that she was a pretty good little piece of ass he nevertheless didn't miss fucking her.
Girls like her were very easy to find and they weren't his thing anyway. He could fool himself into thinking that they were but he could only do it for short periods of time.
After that reality set in and he knew the game was up and he didn't try to delude himself any longer. The more time she spent with her new found friends, the less chance there was of his having to sleep with her again, although he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet.
Caroline was getting impatient. Martha had primed her and after a few days she began to wonder what was going on, if anything at all.
Naturally she couldn't ask Martha about it unless Martha brought up the subject first so she stewed in her juices and waited patiently.
Martha pondered the situation. Maybe she shouldn't meddle any more and interfere. Maybe she should keep her nose out of Samantha's business.
On the other hand maybe the job wasn't done yet. That was the question that nagged at her for weeks and weeks, never giving her any peace.
Summer came to the Bay area and with it a refreshing warmth. Flowers and sun tans proliferated and the gulls screeched happily and tourists thronged the city streets and there were no protests over some social matter. San Francisco was a nice place to live in, things were quiet and vaguely optimistic.
But Martha had no piece. She had never really spoken to her daughter on a woman to woman basis and she knew that she would never be able to do that.
Samantha never came to her for advice and Martha felt awkward about offering it so there was always this uneasy silence that kept on popping up.
They had very little to say to one another actually. They each led their separate lives and every now and then, like at the breakfast or dinner table, they met and chitty chatted about this and that, each one making sure to keep the subjects neutral.
Which would have been fine with both of them except that Martha felt guilty. She never would have admitted it of course but she did.
Insofar as it was possible for her to do so, she felt that she had let Samantha down, that she had failed her and her attempts to educate her in a sexual sense were done so that she could expiate her guilt.
Which was why she couldn't let well enough alone.
She had to do everything she could, had to make sure that at least this once she hadn't let her daughter down, like she did before.
All things considered Samantha was a very lucky girl. Meddling mothers, and father for that matter too, were nothing new.
Everyone wants the best for their sibling and in the course of trying to attain that, many a life has been loused up considerably.
But Martha was more or less unaware of this or even if she was aware of it, was unable to communicate it or even admit it to herself.
So she decided to act.
Cordova was in his room and she found him there.
He knew it was trouble from the minute she walked in, sitting down like she owned the place which she did but still, she at least should have knocked first.
He tried to remember when the last time he fucked her was but couldn't. A week ago? Something like that. Was that what she came for.
It was just after lunch and he was relaxing, having nothing in particular to do. Martha liked to keep him on call so even when he was idle he was confined to the house unless she told him differently.
He was reading a paperback novel, lying on his bed in his shorts, sunlight streaming into the room feeling good about things.
"I think the time has come," she said ominously.
"Want something cold to drink?" he offered, getting up so he could put on his pants.
His rooms had a small kitchenette attached to them so he could cook for himself if he wanted. Cordova got himself a glass of iced tea, smoothed down the bed and then sat opposite her.
"For what?"
As if he had to ask.
"Samantha's been very active lately."
"So I've noticed."
"She's been seeing a couple of young men?"
"I assume you approve of them."
"Oh yes, they come from the best of families," said Martha.
She wore a loose fitting shift and was braless and Cordova wondered if she was wearing any panties underneath of it she was totally naked.
"So what's the problem?"
"I just want to make sure she knows what's going on," answered Martha.
"And now's the time for us to put your master plan into action?"
"Yes, before things get out of hand."
"What do you mean?"
"She's at that age. She'll probably be getting married soon. I don't know, it's a combination of things. I just want to be sure in my own mind, that's all."
"I guess I can understand that."
"You don't have to understand, you just have to fuck her. Is that too much to ask for or have you lost your taste for her?"
"No, I haven't lost my taste. I just thought that since things were going so smoothly, why mess around with them?" he asked.
"Maybe they're going too smoothly."
"Maybe."
"You sound hesitant."
"I am?"
"Why?"
"I'm not sure."
"Then it's not important."
"I hope not," he said.
"Listen, it'll only be for this one more time," she insisted.
"That's what they all say."
"Keep your wise cracks to yourself. You're in a very envious position, you know."
"Yes, I suppose so."
Martha studied him. There was something different about him. Conscious? No, that she doubted? Was her daughter suddenly unattractive to him? No, she doubted that very much.
What then?
She didn't know and because she couldn't get the answer right away she came to the conclusion that it wasn't very important.
"Now, now, I understand how you feel," she lied. "I feel the same way but it's got to be done for her own good in the long run."
"Yes, I know you have a point," he agreed reluctantly at last.
"And don't tell me you don't enjoy it. I know for a fact that you do."
"All right, I won't tell you I don't enjoy it," he said in a monotone.
"I know what you need."
"What's that?"
"Something to put you in the mood."
"It wouldn't hurt."
"I know. Lie on the bed and I'll see what I can do for you?"