Baby, Mine!: The Story of Agatha and Devin

By Jacquelyn McGloster

The story of Agatha and Devin is a sweeping saga spanning more than seventy years that begins with the tale of a misguided youth, Scott Robertson, who goes through his life living helter-skelter in ways that govern inevitable consequences. A strikingly handsome but undisciplined black male, Scott influences his unwitting juvenile counterpart, Monica Chisholm, to follow him into certain disaster. As a petty criminal, Scott, now father to seven impressionable children in the heart of the Harlem ghetto, is unchecked until he graduates into a hard-time felon and ends up feeling the full weight of his prison existence. His oldest child, Agatha, is gifted with an unimaginable strength and far-reaching fortitude that helps to keep the downtrodden Chisholm children united. Agatha even works across color lines, helping the Ruiz family, who are similarly affected by ghetto life.
Then Devin Brooke comes along, a striking exciting young man who is duped by his friend to donate his sperm, which ultimately creates a link between Agatha and Devin that cannot be broken. Other players work behind the scenes and contribute to the redemptive arc within a story in which some are convicted of murder and others of carrying out major drug deals, homosexuality is forced upon unsuspecting prison neophytes, and men become transgendered against their will and are made to comply with multiple acts of depravity. All of these misfortunes and more are brought into play until all parties reach a well-rounded, happy-ever-after end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9781669878995

Jacquelyn McGloster

Travel with author Jacquelyn McGloster as she takes her characters from the back water deep south, thru the sordid backdrop of the heart of the ghetto and moves them up and out to the affluent suburbs where there is a blend of gifted, talented, and dedicated New Yorkers spreading their good influence into the coming generation. There are challenges as well as rewards for those who dare to take this journey, to take this leap of faith!

Book preview

Prologue

The powers that be slowly relaxed their vigil as they collectively and individually released a long sigh of relief. The hard part appeared to be behind them. From the start, everyone involved had done what was expected of them—in the time allotted—and the two new operatives were now firmly entrenched in their designated positions. These talented, enthusiastic, and dedicated operatives sat at the helm of a well-oiled machine that had been established and cultivated long ago; they expected excellence and demanded absolute obedience. Their experience had always been only to receive absolute loyalty and superior work. They could now readily accept the praises and accolades associated with a job well done, and in receiving such, their pleasure was evident.

It was little wonder that the organization loosely referred to as the Firm operated without visible flaws, challenges, or dissent. If there was dissatisfaction in the ranks, it was close to the top and felt by only a very few against those who carried the enormous weight of responsibility for achieving excellent results.

Within the Firm, there were no offices to maintain, no workers to manage or direct, and no paychecks to prepare and distribute. There were no clocks to punch and nothing produced for public use or consumption.

But there were signs that attested to its existence; there were, for example, startling amounts of ready cash available for distribution to encourage, influence, and promote change and action ultimately for the greater good.

For those with eyes to see, it was truly amazing to watch many disciplines—diverse in scope—come together clandestinely, share knowledge, and cooperate fully. Those involved put forth their excellent efforts and received excellent results. Then came the separation, after which they went about the business of incorporating what was learned, benefiting the masses at large but with few repercussions. This happened in one smooth operation, the changes falling into place as if they had always been the status quo.

In the various fields of endeavor, some were more active, yet no one was more influential than another. The concepts of cooperation and competition worked in perfect balance, and Devin stood at the back door, looking over the huge cluttered backyard of their recently acquired house, and acknowledged that he had been blessed by the illusive yet undeniable Almighty. He felt awkward about being so blessed but was still man enough to bask in the glory of it all. Devin acknowledged his overwhelming happiness with a quietly whispered thank you. He then attempted to rein in his fragmented thoughts by shaking his head and, unsuccessfully, to focus on the here and now.

It was an intensely cold, lonely, and raw day. Yet—never mind that the newly hired landscapers had yet to start or that there was no outside furniture to enhance the area—Devin still found it hard not to smile with approval. The unkempt grass was shaggy and brown in spots and bald in others; still, his spirits remained high as he considered his recent accomplishment. The bushes had grown wild and shapeless over time, but he saw an innate beauty in them that he felt compelled to restore. A barrier of trees grew close together near the new construction of the unfinished garages. The empty spaces between the trees and between the studs of the bare lumber seemed to glare at him, but he also saw the promise of luxurious foliage—it beckoned to him, vying for his attention, from someday not far into the future. Amid that bleak landscape, toys, bikes, and other items were carelessly strewn about, evidence of the pleasant disarray of children who gathered to celebrate life there daily.

A large backyard had been an absolute must on his list; Devin had not been willing to make any concessions about that. He absolutely needed the elbow room.

He was also thankful that his many luxury cars were protected either by a protective cover individually labeled and personally identified by their conscientious owner or by a newly, and paying for all the alterations, he had given the cost no further thought.

The original two-car garage was designated for Agatha’s knockabouts, which Everton would also be driving soon. Neither Agatha nor Everton was as rigid about or dedicated to their vehicles as Devin was to his, but it was by dint of Devin’s dedication and respect for the automobile that those spaces were set aside for the less-than-honored and aging, albeit useful, vehicles.

Devin chuckled quietly to himself at the vast changes that had taken place in his life, unimaginable only a few months ago.

As usual, Devin was trying to organize his thoughts, which were clouded by his overriding pleasure about sharing himself with his now one true soul mate. Those feelings overshadowed his normally awe-inspiring, sound judgment and kept him pleasantly off kilter.

As his thoughts wandered, he noted muffled bursts of indistinguishable noises trickling down from upstairs. Devin couldn’t distinguish the words but could easily identify each voice. He considered that had he not been present from the onset of this megachange in his life, he’d be hard pressed to believe he was the same person who entered into this alliance, no matter how willingly. Yet here he was, in the flesh.

He sighed and marveled at having such deep contentment; shaking his head, he sipped the final dregs of his coffee. He felt total satisfaction and silently rejoiced at finally being able to make a decent cup of coffee all by himself. Those thoughts produced a charming smile, manifesting his dimples and his even sparkling white teeth. Oh, what glory!

From as far back as he could remember, Devin had always been served appetizing and appealing meals and beverages that had been prepared for him in a manner only afforded by the truly catered-to rich. Now he could add useful and accomplished to his repertoire.

Devin’s life had taken such a dramatic turn, changing utterly from the quiet routine he once thought he desired and had managed to attain into this busy chaos with all things new and different. Still, he was filled with joy and felt mightily blessed.

Devin was enjoying this momentary peace and (mostly) quiet. He still heard the muffled noises filtering down from the upper floor, signaling that his new family was preparing to greet a new day. He continued to smile. He had no idea that there would ever be so many others behind the scenes who would hold sway over his daily habits and his likes and dislikes as well as those of the ones nearest and dearest to him.

His anticipation grew. Each family member often brought suggestions for tasks and activities to Devin for his approval and interaction, which only served to sweeten the taste in his mouth. He felt mightily loved and hopelessly involved. And he wouldn’t change a thing.

He found himself humming some silly Sesame Street ditty as he placed his empty coffee mug in the stainless steel kitchen sink. He picked up his overcoat and was sliding his arms into the sleeves when he was suddenly caressed and then hugged from behind. He jumped and then forced himself to relax when he recognized the feel of his woman’s arms encircling his trim waist. The joy of feeling her openly caressing him made his grin deepen, his dimples again very much on display. His expression radiated joy from deep in his soul.

* * * * *

Her astute mind realized that, from the tightness of his washboard abdominal muscles, he must be accustomed to working out routinely. She wondered fleetingly where he now found the time. She knew that since she and her charges had arrived on his doorstep, his routine must have been seriously impeded. Even with all the new exercise equipment in his designated corner of their huge basement fun room, he never seemed free enough to go downstairs and use it.

Agatha saw the equipment as a potential source for future endeavors, but the kids thought it was there for fun. Devin had cautioned them that the equipment was to be used only by adults, but Agatha’s precocious kids saw the many pieces as a new challenge to try out—the sooner, the better. Only Everton never gave the equipment any thought whatsoever.

Devin held his breath in anticipation of Agatha’s next move. He didn’t have to wait long.

She had come on him on silent feet encased in fluffy brightly colored animal slippers. Oh, how she loved surprising him, although normally he detected her before she reached him. Nowadays her movements were slower, more cumbersome, which almost always took away the element of surprise.

As she pressed her face into the center of his back, he could feel her smile between his shoulder blades and the gentle roundness of her distended belly pressed firmly against him—their miracle love child, a baby he now loved without question, even though he had not planted it there in a conventional manner. He readily accepted the fact that it was his baby, one of many he planned to plant within this woman, whom he’d come to love devotedly.

Devin nodded to himself, acknowledging that he was at peace; there was no need to utter a sound. He stood very still, allowing her to caress him to her heart’s delight. The sheer joy of her touch intensified his pleasure at just being alive.

Linking her hands, she gently kneaded the muscles of his abdomen and huskily murmured in his ear, Just think—one day soon my stomach will return to normal, hopefully flat just like yours. Agatha stuck her tiny pink tongue into his ear and uttered a guttural groan of contentment. All at once, Devin felt the strain of sexual anticipation and extreme pleasure. He was in love. Agatha smiled contentedly as she felt his body quicken. She also was in love.

He didn’t care what she thought of his firm abs; he just continued to stand quietly, murmuring a soft mmm as he basked in the glory of her sensual touch. He loved the feel of her wrapped about him.

Undaunted, she continued, If you share your exercise equipment, I’ll be able to develop firm abs just like yours. What do you think?

He nodded absently, saying nothing. He couldn’t imagine her with firmly packed abs; he was too in love with her soft, cushiony body, even with the changes this pregnancy had brought.

He felt compelled to agree with her as an overwhelming joy settled over him. He pulled her around so that they faced each other. He held her loosely in his arms, his coat swinging from his shoulders, and quickly kissed her lips, momentarily tasting the mint of their toothpaste and mouthwash as his tongue tantalizingly swirled about in her delicious mouth. No question about it—he loved her.

Agatha pressed herself against him, feeling a contentment that seemed to permeate her existence these days. She loved him, no question about it.

Devin’s hands slid gently over her freely swaying breasts, which in anticipation of the birth were enlarged, seemingly heavily laden with milk, even though it was far too soon for that. Her unencumbered breasts swayed, filling his hands as he caressed them—to her delight and his pleasure. Her nipples hardened.

Devin fleetingly wondered just what her breasts looked, tasted, and felt like under normal circumstances. When he had first learned of Agatha, she was already pregnant with his baby, even though he’d never had the pleasure of ever knowing, seeing, or touching her—intimately or otherwise.

He accepted the fact that her breasts might have been decidedly smaller before, but they seemed to have blossomed; they certainly captivated him. That passing thought was all it took to make him ache to caress and suckle them repeatedly.

Devin knew every inch of Agatha’s body now. He greedily caressed her for the pure joy of it, accepting her open profession that she was his exclusively, of which he had no doubt. His hands roamed freely around her high, full belly, and she clamped her legs around his firm thigh in an effort to curtail the excitement that always gnawed at her when he touched her like this. She felt an overwhelming need to close her eyes in ecstasy as his wandering hands caressed her eager body. With Devin, she always felt cherished.

Three children—ages ten, nine, and three—thundered down the stairs and into this tender scene, bursting through swinging doors into the kitchen in a motion that reverberated throughout the room. They were talking and laughing among themselves, paying no attention to the two adults literally wrapped up in each other as they stood just inside the glass- and steel-encased back door. The open door allowed light to pour through but failed to hold the cold at bay.

In the children’s wake but quieter and with the maturity of approaching adulthood, Agatha’s baby brother Everton walked in. He carried an armful of precariously balanced books and shouldered an overstuffed black backpack. Everton looked hastily around and smiled with relief.

Oh, good, you’re still here, Everton said with a satisfied grin.

Devin smiled at his young brother-in-law, making no comment, just nodding. He returned his attention to Agatha without interrupting their cuddling.

How about a ride as far as Main Street in town? It’s on your way, and I’m ready. Everton dropped his books and backpack onto the table, shot his arms into his jacket, patted his pants pockets, and nodded silently. All was ready.

For the briefest of moments, Devin tensed, and then he relaxed and dropped his arms, abruptly ending the embrace. Agatha felt the sudden release, and she sucked in a breath, releasing her hold on Devin more slowly. They both instantly felt the loss of separation.

Stepping back with a half smile on her startlingly pretty face, Agatha dropped her head and turned. She smoothed her robe over her pear-shaped body and then quickly turned into the human dynamo Devin knew her to be. He watched in silent awe as she proceeded to rapidly set dishes on the table and produce a variety of breakfast foods. She then hustled everyone into full-speed mode. The day was already in full swing for the younger members of the Chisholm-Brooke family, and it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. The din rose a notch as everyone but Devin joined the melee about the crowded breakfast table.

Everton then said, Nothing for me, sis. I’ll snatch a coffee and a buttered bagel at Dunkin’ Donuts at the bus stop near school. If Devin gives me a ride, it’ll save me a four-block hike and three-quarters of an hour.

Everton haphazardly shoved as many books as he could into the backpack and dropped the remaining books into the deep pockets of his cargo pants. Collecting his gear, he walked past Devin, who was watching Agatha wistfully. Everton smiled knowingly at his brother-in-law’s open look of love and lust and didn’t miss his sister’s shy blush. He nodded at the couple, who were unaware that they could be read so easily, and started to whistle a merry tune.

Taking Devin’s silence as approval, Everton exited the kitchen, jogged to the idling car, and jumped into the passenger seat to wait.

Meanwhile, Agatha was moving right along. Multitasking came naturally to her now, derived from years of practice. From as far back as she could remember, she’d had to do more than one thing at a time. Right now, she answered all manner of questions, gave directions, straightened the clothes on three children in constant motion, prepared and packed some last-minute lunch items, and served breakfast, working toward the goal of having all the kids ready when their school buses arrived. She tidied Spencer’s tie, buttoned his jacket, and straightened the pleats on Porsche’s school uniform. She smoothed Mercedes’s hair and tied a bright ribbon at the base of her braid. She smiled pleasantly at the trio of enthusiastic kids as, after a fashion, they each passed her scrupulous inspection.

While there was a routine, it was constantly changing to meet the varying needs of this diverse group. Agatha made sure it was efficient and accomplished all her goals. Though there had been many recent changes in their lives, the new routines seemed to be working well.

Silently shaking himself to get moving, Devin smiled one last time and then nodded goodbye. He mouthed the words I love you, babe and blew a kiss to Agatha. He was now ready for what the day had to offer.

He gathered his stuffed attaché case and laptop and pushed through the back door, which clicked shut behind him.

He put his head down against the surprisingly strong, chilly wind and reached the car in seconds. Today Devin was driving the top-of-the-line newest-model Cadillac Escalade in midnight blue, a favorite because of its weight class, size, and maneuverability.

As Devin reached the end of the driveway, he coasted the car to a gentle stop. Agatha looked out at him and could instantly tell by the silhouette of his bobbing head that he was playing jazz on the stereo. Agatha smiled, happy with all that was hers.

As she watched the brake lights and the turn signal flash, Agatha felt a flutter as the embryos inside her knocked and bumped against the lining of her womb. She couldn’t help smiling at the wonder of it all. Not only had the Almighty Lord blessed her with her heart’s desire, a baby of her very own, but He had also given her a devoted soul mate who not only excited her sexually but also was a treasure on so many other levels. She placed her hands against this welcome burden and massaged herself to ease some of the tension. She whispered to the baby, Easy, little one, all is well. Daddy’s just off to work. It took but a few heartbeats of gentle kneading to restore peace throughout her body.

Agatha continued with her routine, meeting all her self-imposed obligations in a timely fashion. Porsche, aged ten, and Spencer, aged nine, heard the bus driver blow his horn and soon were gone in a pleasant flurry of activity, donning warm coats, gloves, and hats, toting book bags and lunch boxes.

Looking longingly at her elder siblings as they left, three-year-old Mercedes hesitated for a moment, feeling left behind again. Just a few moments later, the Wiltshire Nursery School bus arrived to take the youngest family member to her day care center, completing the morning’s exodus from the Chisholm-Brooke household.

Mercedes was no longer the quiet, docile, withdrawn girl they had encountered immediately after her biological mother Cora’s death. Agatha followed her outside and watched as Mercedes eagerly ran out to meet her bus, anxious to greet another day. Mercedes was now loquacious, busy, always underfoot, and sometimes as loud as her other siblings, wanting to be seen and heard as an integral member of this cohesive, tight-knit group. She was a different child now.

Returning to the welcoming warm, now empty kitchen, Agatha locked the back door and plopped down at the cluttered table. Looking with mild distaste at her cooled cup of tea, she closed her eyes, anxious to feel peace and quiet. Quiet at last. Agatha sighed noisily as she looked around, embracing the welcomed respite.

Chapter One

A vital segment of the Firm included those who processed information for CODES. There were positive listings in CODES as well as those better-known files that readily identified some of the criminal elements of the population.

CODES compiled data mostly involving identity, including fingerprints, a rapidly growing DNA registry, and other methods of identifying the characteristics of a multitude of men, women, and (recently added) a population of errant children under age sixteen with a propensity for illegal activities. There were some animals, mostly large dogs, that had been involved in human death. Here and there were listed shark attacks and assaults by bears, wolves, and other predators. Most of the listings were human.

The bulk of the data was maintained in Washington, DC, under the jurisdiction of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Access was on a need-to-know basis. Because of the volume of incoming data, there was continuous revision by checks-and-balances software. Periodically, information circulated through the appropriate agencies, which led to the capture and containment of known criminals.

As criminals aged, they sometimes mellowed, lost the propensity for active criminal pursuits, sought a quieter lifestyle, or died. But when it was found that an aging criminal never tired of the excitement of a life of crime, enthusiastic recruits or diligent workers sometimes uncovered details that led to an arrest.

According to one recently updated identity, Paige Campbell was fifty-eight years old. She had spent her early years as girlfriend to mobster Lawrence (Larry) the Spike Cobb. The feds were the owners of a small file listing her association with that criminal element.

Larry the Spike Cobb was conclusively identified as a murder suspect once documents in the Sonny Lockhart crime organization were uncovered in an unannounced raid on his boss’s stronghold. Not only was the Spike identified as a member in good standing in the Lockhart organization but he had also been an active multiple offender. He was the one who had bumped off at least five enemies, whose bodies had never surfaced. To locate the elusive Larry, a comprehensive interview of the then fifteen-year-old Paige was conducted, resulting in her knowingly and willingly committing perjury to a federal panel on more than one occasion. Her collusion resulted in the Spike escaping custody and ultimately disappearing into obscurity. Paige’s young age protected her from being arrested and prosecuted.

The pressure at that time was so heated and intense that Sonny Lockhart’s wife, Marjorie, wanted to disappear. Instead, the same day that Sonny disappeared, she walked out into traffic and was hit by a car and killed. It seemed unlikely to be an accident, though the motivation for murder was unclear.

Most understood was that if Sonny managed to live at all, a sketchy possibility, he would be in prison or a similar institution for life. The ultimate result was the same—their five kids were deprived of their parents.

Reginald (Reggie), their eldest at eleven years old, was impressive in his effort to hold the siblings together. He worked hard at it in the beginning and was amazingly successful. Yet the five young children drifted from relative to relative. As they got older, they were in and out of foster care, somehow kept together as they grew toward maturity.

Reggie was forced to leave school early, forgoing college, which hurt his chances for career advancement. Work often felt like a drudge, but Reggie never opted for fast, easy money. He swore to himself and twenty other responsible people that he’d never be responsible for bringing the police around the Lockhart family ever again. He came to hate his father for abandoning them, exposing them to the chaos and confusion of being bounced from one guardian to another as they precariously clung together as a family. As each reached his or her late teens, they savored a measure of independence. Their byword together had been There’s strength and safety in numbers.

Reggie finally felt some solace when, as a bus driver, he attained a top salary. Yet in truth, he only accepted the supervisor position for the prestige that came with being a boss.

Sonny’s second son, Leonard, was dedicated to his siblings and wanted to be helpful to his remaining family—like his elder brother. He was a little bit lost, though thoughtful, lovable, playful, and a charmer. Without really knowing what he wanted to do with his life, he reluctantly agreed to study nursing alongside their younger sister Rosalie, who was shy and lacked confidence in herself. They both achieved a license as a practical nurse and discovered that there were many excellent job opportunities immediately available.

During the time Leonard studied for this unsettling occupation, he met Elizabeth Oxford, another diligent nursing student. They were married immediately after capping, a term for the unofficial nursing school graduation ceremony; she was more than six months pregnant.

Katherine and David, as the youngest, were, of course, encouraged to remain in school.

Leonard immediately went to work to support Elizabeth and the coming baby. To take some pressure off Reggie, Leonard also helped support their other siblings. Rosalie’s salary was also a blessing. What it meant was that the Lockhart family had finally moved on to better days.

* * * * *

Life was moving too fast. During the initial inquest, Paige was pregnant with the Spike’s first child. During that time, it was decided that to maintain the thriving criminal organization, its top members had to be sacrificed. Sonny was saved only because he happened to be in custody at the time of the blitz. He watched from afar as his cohorts were picked off like so much trash, and his heart and spirit were broken.

Unsupported and constantly being held to ridicule, Sonny died fewer than five months later—under suspicious circumstances. No investigation was conducted. Sonny Lockhart was buried on prison grounds as if he had died of natural causes. And that was that.

Before his death, an obvious inside job, the Spike managed to get Paige to safety. Larry had truly loved Paige and had been looking forward to having the baby and becoming a family. Somehow Paige escaped the mob’s sidewalk justice, but she miscarried and lost the baby. When Paige found out she could never have any more children, she became a lonely, bitter woman, always running from the organization, federal investigators, and local police, who she felt gave chase just to aggravate an ugly situation.

Once Paige’s cash was exhausted, her life degenerated into ugliness. Untrained, uneducated, young, and unprepared, she was forced to live on the fringes of society, working at poverty level and doing without the luxuries to which she had become accustomed and many of the things that had made her life bearable.

Having never been charged with a crime or fingerprinted, Paige managed to maintain a low profile and a quiet existence. Although lost to her family and friends, she eventually stopped running and found long-term employment as a flower arranger in Albion, a small town in upper New York state.

Forty years later, the obscure murder of this quiet middle-aged woman would have gone unnoticed and unsolved had not photographs of people long forgotten been located in her scant possessions by a diligent detective. Poring over pages of yellowed pictures and faded handwritten testimony had exposed some answers long hidden.

It was discovered that the woman known as Phoebe Cassidy was actually Paige Campbell. In the process, the whereabouts of Larry the Spike Cobb’s burial plot came to light. An unknown benefactor provided funds to quietly lay Paige to rest beside her true love, thereby reuniting in death, for eternity, the two lovers who had been separated in life.

The details of the sudden deaths of the Spike and Paige Campbell were released to the public. The news was not received well by potential mob recruits, balancing out the mystic lure of easy money. In a way, it spoke to the idea that justice arose from more than one source.

* * * * *

Through these days of adversity, the Lockhart children clung to one another and bootstrapped their way into the middle class, led by their elder brothers, Reginald and Leonard, who had little tolerance for miscreants. The two young men allowed themselves no time for frivolity. They both had applied for all the civil service entrance exams, and that was how Reginald became a bus operator. He worked long and hard to rise through the ranks, keeping his past hidden. Time all but erased the family association with their mobster father and his memory from their lives.

Reginald Lockhart was finally at the point in life when he was nearing glorious retirement and looking forward to a peaceful existence with his wife, who also was about to retire—they would soon be able to enjoy spending more time with their grandchildren. Leonard, his wife and many children, and the other Lockhart siblings were thriving and growing. Reginald thought, Oh, God is good.

Meanwhile . . .

Although she loved her family to distraction, Agatha always welcomed each moment of peace and quiet she could find. From the time she was a teen, her quiet time gave her time to think and reconnoiter, to feel appreciation for her life the way it was. Her many blessings may have come to her because she worked diligently to promote good for others and worked hard to show them how to encourage more good around them. It seemed to Agatha that God’s blessings came to her in glorious huge waves. She gave thanks often for those overwhelming blessings, which seemed to rain down on her and those surrounding her.

Returning to the warm and cozy kitchen once the nursery bus left, Agatha took a moment to relax at the cluttered kitchen table and finish her cup of rapidly cooling tea. Vacillating whether she should get up and reheat her tea or just drink it down quickly, she continued to sit, lost in fragmented thought. Unable to decide, she finally pushed the mostly empty cup away. She took a moment to give thanks, offering silent praise. She prayed to her benefactor, her Lord and Savior. Feeling instantly renewed and at peace, she quietly returned to self-appointed tasks.

Earlier in her life, Agatha had asked the Almighty for a child of her own but without compromising her principles, which seemed an impossible feat. She chose to live her life without sanctioning loose morals. She had witnessed firsthand the results a promiscuous lifestyle, which only encouraged a life of lies, unhappiness, and half-truths. From her earliest memories, she had noted that lifestyle’s potential for disaster as her mother’s and sister’s lives sank into a quagmire of hopelessness and despair, until they each had succumbed to a horror mostly of their own making. That lifestyle had stolen the very life out of both of them, and Agatha had long wanted better for herself. She deserved better. She would have better.

There was no one who could influence her to engage in episodes of loose living. Of course, that was well before she became acquainted with Mr. Devin Brooke. And once they did become acquainted, the point was moot as she was already pregnant with his child.

On the few occasions when Agatha had indulged in what she saw as acts of promiscuity, she had felt remorse, which soured her normally pleasant disposition. Ultimately, Agatha managed to convince Devin that she couldn’t continue to act in such an immoral manner, and she withdrew into an unyielding shell. That situation presented Devin with a dilemma. Marriage was the only workable solution.

Related to marriage, Agatha could think of no one who met her strict codes of conduct. Anyway, she reasoned, who would want to accept her with all her self-imposed responsibilities? Shaking her head, she laughed. Even in her current state, Agatha couldn’t ask anyone to go that far. She knew she was responsible for her own situation, and she was ready to shoulder her destiny—until Mr. Devin Brooke burst on the scene.

With dedication and determination to keep to her original plan, Agatha had diligently worked toward her desire—a child—and chose artificial insemination. She was well aware of the responsibility she faced as a single mother but willingly marched forward into the face of uncertainty and possible adversity. She was willing to carry the full burden of raising her nieces and nephew as well as this child born of her body. Wonder of wonders, she became pregnant on the first try, and her pure joy was overwhelming.

There were moments when she thought about the sperm donor, but then she always put the matter back in God’s hands. After all, he was her Almighty, the Alpha and Omega.

Yet the more time passed, the more she wondered. Was the sperm donor an ax murderer? Had poverty driven him to sell his sperm? Was his body ailing? Was his sperm diseased? Was the father of her child a sex fiend or deviant with warped tendencies? Would the child then be hopelessly crazed? Was the man too ugly or warped to mate the normal way with females? What would induce a normal male to sell or give his sperm away without thinking of the female recipient? Round and round her warped thoughts went, making her more and more confused as the days moved forward.

When she could, Agatha tamped down the chaotic thoughts in her head. One of the basic tenets that the pastor of her church offered as gospel, one that she took to heart, was to think happy, fulfilling thoughts that had the ability to encourage a happier life. This principle promoted well-being and a peaceful spirit, and she needed that kind of happiness in her life. She counseled herself to speak life.

From the very first moment that she realized she was going to be a mother, Agatha put into practice good, happy thoughts and repressed the bad ones. She needed to encourage good, and that premise encompassed everything she did. She could feel the presence of the Lord seep into her being, and she came to believe that the Almighty was working along with her and that she was being allowed to fulfill her dream with His blessing. The thought brought joy to her heart and a smile to her lips. Oh, happy day!

Agatha had worked hard to convince herself that she had nothing to worry about and breathed a sigh of relief when her worries about the sperm donor went away. Now after the fact, with additional information, Agatha silently thanked God for Devin.

Agatha was on cloud nine. Everything about becoming pregnant had come easily, pointing to the rightness of the situation: the money, the responsiveness of the clinic and its supportive workers, the specimen, and the information that had ultimately led to Devin. She hadn’t actually voiced her desire for companionship, but she had received love, support, and companionship anyway in the form of a temptingly handsome, spontaneous, dedicated, interested soul mate who demonstrated awareness of and concern and appreciation for her as well as her young charges.

In the kitchen, Agatha spun around in a tight circle, seeing and accepting her spacious environment as her just due—because Devin, a strong personality himself, deemed it so.

After the family—Devin, Everton, and the three children—departed for their various destinations that morning, Agatha allowed herself several well-deserved quiet moments. She showered leisurely and dressed in a bright maternity top and elastic-waist A-line skirt. She finished the outfit with decorative warm socks and comfortable designer sneakers. She combed and brushed her hair and completed her morning ritual with one of her personalized fragrances and an application of a fragrant, tasty, and becoming lip gloss. She was now ready to face her day.

Viewing herself in the full-length mirror in their bedroom, she cupped her belly, holding her clothes close to her body. She smiled at the image. This is my child, a life I’m creating, she thought. We’re creating, she amended, thinking of God and the bemused Devin. She smiled contentedly.

Only in her wildest dreams could she have imagined herself pregnant and as huge as she was now, loving every minute of the experience. It had always been a fervent desire of hers to birth a child—a part of the fairy-tale existence she had created in her head. Nevertheless, it was still quite a shock when she was first presented with the reality. At the same time, she always deliberately ignored the thought of the pain involved in giving birth.

She remembered her mother, Monica, who resented pregnancy after pregnancy but who repeatedly grew round and heavy with another child. The experience of pregnancy had never been a joy for her mother. There had never been a desire to have a baby. No wonder there was no happiness or enthusiasm evident. Her mother had only accepted the situation each time her body prepared for another birth.

Monica had never been truly abusive, but she was despondent, disinterested, and detached. Her style of mothering could be considered benign neglect. It was a twist of fate that Monica was so prolifically fertile. All Scott had to do was take her to bed, and she was soon swollen with yet another unwanted baby. Everybody, including Scott, knew that Monica wasn’t happy as each new pregnancy presented itself.

As a mother, Monica did what she had to when she had to. She breastfed each baby because Scott expected her to. He controlled the purse strings and flatly refused to give her money from her welfare and child support checks to buy formula or bottles. She hated nursing but had no choice in the matter.

To make matters worse, Scott also took his turn. He laughed and said, It’ll help your milk production. But unlike a nursing child, Scott sometimes caused pain and bruised her nipples with the insistent draw of his mouth on her heavily laden breasts. Monica would sit, cuddling him to her breasts like a baby, with a sickened, saccharine smile plastered on her face. He never cared for her modesty either, cuddling each swollen breast to his lips and smiling while anyone who was around could watch or hear his noisy sucking as he drew deeply, draining her milk ducts dry. This was often a prelude to becoming amorous, which sometimes led to another pregnancy.

Scott’s rationale was that Monica didn’t have a job, and it was cheaper than buying formula. It was easier to place a baby to her swollen breast and let the child drain her body dry than boiling bottles, preparing milk, and paying for formula as if he was the one providing the finances for their growing family.

Although he hid it in the beginning, Scott enjoyed watching Monica feed his child at her full breasts because he found it sexually stimulating. The only time she did bottle-feed was when they had triplets because Scott recognized that she couldn’t produce sufficient milk to satisfy all the children at one time. Yet he was happy because triplets meant a sizable increase in their welfare check, an increase Monica sorely needed but rarely saw because Scott took and used the money—usually in some frivolous manner.

Taking care of triplets was a difficult job. To start with, during the pregnancy, Monica had been advised to spend most of the time in bed. She hated it but was fearful of what Scott would do to her if she miscarried.

When Monica had made Scott aware of her impending multiple birth, he had been so gleeful that he actually made love to her. He wasn’t just having sex with her that time as he normally did to show his dominance. At those times, Monica lay on her back, accepting Scott into her tired body, feigning pleasure and miraculously not feeling the pain from his harsh entry or the awkward positions he demanded when she was heavy with child. She often prayed she wouldn’t get a charley horse or suffer other pain from his prolonged bouts of unrelenting thrusting.

At first, Monica loved Scott after a fashion; but the long years of torment, abuse, and neglect eventually took their toll. She wasn’t excited at the prospect of birth this time because then the real work would begin both for her and for the young but stable Agatha. With the triplets’ pregnancy, Monica had blown up to twice her normal size and was twice as miserable. She had a hard time just getting through the day without the added pressure of Scott’s presence. The short period he spent in the local jail, six months in the workhouse, had been a blessing that was only marred by having to drag herself down to the intake office to hand over a hefty portion of her welfare check for his commissary.

There were many times when Monica’s elder children—Agatha, Benjamin, and Cora—watched with a jaundiced eye as Scott came into the house in the middle of the day, taking Monica to bed. The sound effects were loud and graphic, and Monica couldn’t ignore the fact that her children were aware of their actions. Scott had no qualms about being openly frisky with Monica; she was, after all, his woman.

With the extra weight and bulk of carrying triplets, Monica was uncomfortable from morning to night. Coupled with Scott’s increasing ardor, Monica constantly felt like crying. The delivery was an ordeal, and Monica continued to suffer for a long time afterward. She was devastated with postpartum depression and was forced to weather that storm without benefit of counseling or medication. Her only saving grace was her workhorse daughter, Agatha, who from an early age had been dedicated to her mother.

Agatha’s workload multiplied seemingly exponentially with the triplets’ birth. Scott witnessed how overburdened his eldest child was but neither said nor did anything to lessen the load. Agatha became hardened as her childhood rapidly fell away into oblivion, never to be recovered.

Agatha willingly picked up the slack out of love for her needy younger siblings. At the same time, she kept up with her schoolwork, which she tackled religiously, keeping current. She helped with the feeding and clothing of her brother Benji and sister Cora by assuming total responsibility for cooking all their meals and washing piles of dirty laundry at the Laundromat with money she seemed to acquire from thin air. She worked unrelentingly to keep her siblings current with their school. She taught Benjamin and Cora to help and learned to delegate some of the responsibility, but the brunt of the work still fell on her shoulders.

Monica never really knew how to run a household and often came to Agatha for guidance. And because Scott never held a job for any length of time, he considered that his main contribution to their household was keeping Monica busy sexually—either pregnant or ready to become pregnant. Agatha had to do the shopping and prepare dinner every day—and that was when money was provided. Yet miracle after miracle occurred—when there was no money for food, it somehow materialized on the table. Scott never questioned it, always eating his fill, unmindful of whether what was left was sufficient for everyone else.

Many times, Monica lost her appetite after being sexually abused by Scott, who often left her embarrassed, hurting, and sore. She then watched him eat his fill without regard for the others. Inadvertently, depriving herself was instrumental in keeping her youthful figure, which pleased Scott and excited his ardor.

Agatha became responsible for cleaning the house, though Benjamin helped. He observed Agatha tackle these tasks without complaint as all the adult responsibilities were shirked by the thoughtless Scott and uninformed Monica.

Agatha learned to diaper and feed the babies. And because Scott was rewarded each time with extra money for each child that was born, his ardor still ran hot. He demanded Monica’s attention often and at any hour of the day, which left Agatha to pick up the slack—babysitting, cooking, cleaning, and essentially keeping body and soul together for the whole family. Monica lived in dread but never dragged her feet when Scott summoned her to bed for another bout of sex.

Benjamin helped but was resentful. He really did try to lessen Agatha’s workload but wasn’t willing to kill himself with overwork. There were many tasks that were beyond him, and he often reached the limits of his endurance. The fact that his mother didn’t truly understand the full magnitude of the problem was the only thing that kept Benjamin from hating both of his parents. Through it all, Agatha and Benjamin silently drew strength from each other.

Cora, on the other hand, became oblivious to the harsh realities of life. She could only be motivated through drastic measures, and when she did help, it was always to do as little as possible. Benjamin often shook his head and redid Cora’s poorly performed work. Over the years, a frightening hatred hardened in Benjamin’s heart toward his father as a result of his selfish neglect and the trauma and deprivation his father inflicted on their family.

Monica never thought to refuse Scott anything, even if her fear of getting pregnant again and of another multiple pregnancy kept her teetering on the edge of despair and desperation. She was actually relieved when Scott stuck his unwelcome swollen penis down her throat instead of into her body, demanding she bring him to sexual gratification immediately. She often worked herself into a fever pitch of emotion, praying her actions would satisfy him quickly before the kids could see her humiliation as he forced her swallow his ejaculation. At the same time, realizing another pregnancy was inevitable at some point, she fervently hoped it would only be one baby the next time.

Scott’s one concession was to allow her to bottle-feed her triplets while he pounded her tired body at all hours of the day and night in hopes that she would soon become pregnant again. Her breasts remained sore because Scott forced her to allow him to nurse. He laughed, allowing her no modesty, as he freed her breasts, nosily suckling, saying that he didn’t want her to forget how it felt to nurse. Monica sat on a rumpled, unmade bed with her back against the wall, her blouse hanging wide open, her bra encircling her waist, with Scott draped over her lower body, busily fondling her and nipping at her puckered nipples. She would sigh, her eyes cast down, knowing that Agatha, Benjamin, and Cora were busy corralling her active, noisy triplets while fixing dinner.

One time as Scott was harshly suckling her breast, she felt like crying when he slid his hand beneath her skirt, tugging at her panties, exposing her entirely, sticking his fingers into her body. It was a blessing when Agatha walked by, gently closing the bedroom door, giving them unasked-for privacy. As a result of that blessed privacy, though, Monica was free to accept Scott’s engorged penis in her mouth, where he forced her to bring him to orgasm again and again. Scott was such a large man that she had to work harder to accommodate and arouse him enough to eventually ejaculate, and each time, he demanded she complete the act by swallowing his come. Her eyes would always bulge and tear up, but she knew better than to cry.

Agatha, listening to her mother’s humiliation, felt a measure of relief when she heard the rhythmic slapping sounds of bodies against the wall, suggesting that her parents were finishing their episode. It encouraged Agatha to hurry dinner because, soon, Scott would call for his meal. Thankfully, he would eventually leave them in peace—once all his appetites had been satisfied.

With three demanding babies and a strong suspicion of another pregnancy, Monica always looked like she was about to cry. Not only did she have to watch Agatha, Benjamin, and the lackluster Cora shoulder much of the household duties but she was also being bombarded by negativism from her sister, Connie, who was living with and helping their sickly mother.

As they had come of age, Connie had refused to sleep with her boyfriend as it wasn’t sanctioned by the church. Seeing Connie’s dedication and hard work, Andrew Bellinger recognized her underlying potential. Alone, his life was going nowhere, and he finally opted for fun and sexual gratification. Though in his mind she truly had nothing to offer, Andrew relented and married Connie Chisholm, a decision made in a weak and sexually needy moment. It wasn’t long before Connie recognized that she hadn’t done herself any real favor. She had a ring on her finger but no money and a bellyful of baby that neither she nor her inexperienced, inept unemployed husband could provide for. Long distance, Connie figuratively cried on Monica’s shoulder. Connie looked around at the ugly waste and destruction of her life and thought that the streets up North would be paved in gold. She desperately wanted that gold.

Agatha continued to trudge along, doing her mother’s work; motivating her brother Benjamin, who really tried; and trying to encourage her sister Cora but with negative results. It was Agatha’s efforts alone that allowed the triplets—Desmond, Daniel, and Denise—to thrive. The inquisitive busy babies brought smiles to everyone’s faces. They were too young to understand that they lacked the basic ingredients for future success, yet the Almighty would carry them through.

Agatha maintained her academic excellence as if that were her only function in life while she mothered three growing toddlers, who knew instinctively to come to Agatha for direction, guidance, and help. They brought their hurts for her to soothe, their hunger to satisfy and followed her lead at every turn.

Though she tried not to show it, it was obvious that Agatha disliked her father. She observed him careening along with his petty illegal activities, never taking appropriate responsibility for the family he had created over the silent objections of his coconspirator, Monica. Other than his frequent sexual assaults, Scott never helped or even interacted with Monica. He never listened to her, nor did he pay any attention to their numerous needy children.

Scott was doomed to failure as he continued his petty illegal operations in the same thoughtless manner. He was arrested frequently and convicted of crimes at an increasing rate. Agatha had moments of guilt at first, but they lessened as he was repeatedly incarcerated and because life became a little easier when the possibility of another pregnancy wasn’t imminent.

Monica’s next pregnancy resulted in a single birth, after which she breathed a huge sigh of relief. She was happier still when Scott went to jail, and she wasn’t burdened with the fear of still another pregnancy. And slowly, fun came back to the Chisholm household. Scott was sentenced to five to seven years in the penitentiary; for the first time, he was being shipped upstate to serve his time with the hard-core longtime inmates.

Because Monica and Scott weren’t legally married, she was not required to submit to conjugal visits. And before he could convince anyone otherwise, the conjugal visits program ended. It angered Scott but brought happiness to the tired, unfulfilled Monica. Yet she was still required to fork over large portions of what felt like a shrinking welfare check for Scott’s commissary needs.

* * * * *

Agatha shook her head, dismissing thoughts of Monica and how she had managed a multiple pregnancy. Agatha knew in her heart that she wanted to at least try breastfeeding, even with multiples, though she wondered just how she was going to manage more than one baby at a time.

She wondered how many babies she was carrying. She knew that only one fertilized embryo had been implanted, but how many times it had divided to develop multiple fetuses was a mystery only the Almighty could answer.

Agatha felt breastfeeding would provide greater bonding with her babies. Her nieces and nephew would be a big help because she was bringing them up right. They had been taught to believe that a cohesive family structure was a major strength for each family member and that even the very young had something positive to offer, thereby making the family invincible to outside negativism.

While Agatha had never discussed her desires or needs with Devin, she was of the opinion that he would ultimately agree with her smart decisions. She somehow felt, because of his highly sensual and sexual nature, he would encourage her and share the warm experiences she anticipated after the birth of their babies. Once allowed, Devin always enjoyed feasting at Agatha’s breasts, and indications were that he’d relish watching his children enjoy their time breastfeeding while they bonded with their delightful mother.

The major difference between Agatha and her mother was that Agatha was in control of her body and her destiny. This pregnancy had been planned and eagerly anticipated, the only glitch being the arrival of the forceful Devin, who had shown up as an apparent package deal along with her developing pregnancy.

Devin exploded onto the scene, insisting that he wouldn’t allow a child born of his seed to exist without his input. He refused to be ignored, and it was within his financial position to pay for the outcome, whatever it took. Once he was confident his child was a reality, he immediately brought out his checkbook, ready to pay for the surrender of his child once born. He never hesitated, nor did his determination waver. His financial offer was hugely extravagant, but Agatha, aghast, had immediately refused. Devin immediately upped the offer again and again until Agatha began to cry uncontrollably. Agatha was traumatized by the thought of giving up her baby. There was no amount she would consider.

Fearful of trauma to the baby, he immediately stopped and remained quiet. Devin recognized the futility of his earlier approach and immediately began to reevaluate his choices. He sat back, watched, and waited.

That tactic only proved to frighten Agatha more. She held her breath, wondering how he was going to come at her next. They sat together in silence.

As Devin had situated himself into Agatha’s life, he had slowly come to understand the phenomenon that was Agatha. He conducted his own investigation into Agatha Chisholm, discovering that Porsche, Spencer, and Mercedes were her dead sister Cora’s children. He dug as deep as his money would allow and was surprised when he found no evidence of a man in her life—ever—which truly frightened him. In the beginning, he didn’t understand her chaste lifestyle. Still, he was intrigued. He witnessed her dedication to the children, which immediately and inexplicably drew him in. The more he watched and as each fact was uncovered, he found himself thinking about her at the oddest times, even in their difficult and unusual circumstances.

The first time Devin felt himself react sexually to Agatha was while watching her perform the mundane task of braiding Porsche’s hair. He watched her plait neat braids and listened as they spoke about some outfit Porsche wanted. Agatha was explaining how Porsche needed to focus on her schoolwork instead of on a dress she wanted that she really had nowhere to wear. The feeling was suddenly there, and it startled him.

It was all Devin could do to bring his raging thoughts under control. What he most wanted to do was to crawl between Agatha’s legs and stroke her woman’s core until she bathed his hands and tongue with her tempting juices. Unaccustomed to such powerful feelings of lust, Devin experienced real fear. All throughout his adult life, it was women who had thrown themselves at him, not the other way around. He couldn’t shake his thoughts until Spencer and Mercedes literally dragged him into the kitchen, asking for dessert. Devin was thankful for the timely distraction.

Yet the same feelings came back to him regularly and with greater intensity. Devin found himself staring at Agatha’s breasts often, realizing that a child of his was going to feed there one day soon. He tried not to stare but couldn’t help himself. He became more and more aware of his heightened libido and wondered, Why is she so tempting?

Devin’s warped thoughts gave him a strong desire to become familiar with his growing child. What he really wanted to do was impress on Agatha the rightness of allowing him free access to her body now that he was aware of her as a woman carrying his baby. But he knew it would be wrong to indulge himself. He was reduced to keeping his hands in his pockets as much as possible.

While his body throbbed in response to seeing Agatha, Devin reined in his raging desire by dint of his ironclad will and sane judgment. Yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold the line forever, so he watched and waited for the right moment to approach her. He felt certain that his day was coming.

* * * * *

Being a mother to her own child was, to Agatha, her crowning glory, so different from her mother, who had merely endured pregnancy after pregnancy in an attempt to satisfy Scott’s lustful nature and supposedly to increase their welfare check. Monica never took pride in her children’s accomplishments. By contrast, Agatha felt it a blessing and experienced abounding joy. All the Chisholm children could rely on Agatha to praise them for a job well done.

The astute Agatha recognized early on that without control over one’s body, a woman couldn’t perform well at any task, especially those that took time, energy, and concentrated thought. That included tasks that sapped strength and depleted a mother’s body of vital nutrients needed to sustain the baby within.

Agatha considered the tasks she performed to promote the children’s growth and healthy development to be acts of love. She thought about how, although he could dictate most of Monica’s actions, Scott couldn’t generate desire, enthusiasm, or love from her by instilling fear under the threat of imminent pain or future beatings for being defiant.

Monica had complied up to a point. She had baby after baby because Scott deliberately refused to use protection. Monica knew Scott would hurt her badly if she did anything to interrupt a pregnancy, thereby decreasing their chance for additional welfare money. There was no skin off Scott’s nose, no work he was made to do, and no contribution he was compelled to make. He was involved but at the same time totally free.

Monica grudgingly breastfed her babies because Scott refused to finance the formula. He demanded the increase in her check as his just due for services rendered (making her pregnant in the first place). That had been his only contribution to their family.

* * * * *

Agatha looked around the quiet house that had only recently begun to feel like home. Tears suddenly flooded her expressive eyes in response to a deep emotional pain. With all her faults, Monica hadn’t deserved to die so tragically. Breathing deeply several times, Agatha managed to bring her emotions under control. Her spirits brightened as she remembered her blessings. Nodding, she whispered to herself, God is good.

A big portion of her here-and-now reality was that carrying these babies (they had recently been assured that this pregnancy would most likely result in a multiple birth) was tiring, to say the least. In addition to her increasing size, being the recipient of Devin’s heated ardor was something new. Once she finally allowed him access to her body, he had turned out to be a dynamic, ardent, insistent, and insatiably energetic lover. Agatha wondered where he found the energy, and he was perpetually ready. He worked hard to please her and readily awaited her reciprocation. Devin was patient and willing to indulge in new and different aspects of the love mystique.

Her final consideration was their new, albeit oversize, house. Devin had insisted that they needed the space to spread out so they wouldn’t be cramped now or in the future. Agatha would never have chosen the overpriced oversize luxury home with its multiple plush oversize bedrooms and baths and a huge finished basement that they could use as a playroom and gym.

The surrounding community was racially mixed and mostly composed of long-term residents—more settled older couples, several of whom were approaching retirement or already immersed in the freedom retirement offered. Living with the older adults were some extended family members with children who were ready playmates for Agatha’s crew. There were a few younger couples nearer their age.

Agatha’s thoughts about so much indoor space