Message-ID: <56281asstr$1184717403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com From: "Russell Hoisington" <hoisingr@hushmail.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <20070717230552.47A92DA82E@mailserver8.hushmail.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 17 Jul 2007 17:05:51 -0600 Subject: {ASSM} Wynter and Hailey 03C {Hoisington} (MF Mf mf bf Mg mg bg oral ped cons rom) Lines: 3098 x-asstr-message-id-hack: 56281 Date: Tue, 17 Jul 2007 20:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2007/56281> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, dennyw WYNTER & HAILEY This is an erotic fantasy. It is the third sequel to "Wynter" and follows "Wynter & Cinnamon." It is not necessary to read the previous three stories to understand this one, as events are recapped within this story, but it would help in order to better understand the background and to see the growth in the characters. The characters and the situation are purely imaginary, and this story is NOT intended to be a guide for actual behavior. Any similarities between this story and actual people or actual events you should be ashamed of are purely coincidental. If it is illegal in your part of the world to access and read erotic fiction, or if you are underage, or if you don't like underage sex stories, then you should stop now. This story is copyright 2007 by Russell Hoisington. Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non- commercial (free) sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. That does NOT mean that these stories are in the public domain, nor does it mean that I give permission for you to use them in spam advertising. I reserve the right to determine what is "spam advertising" by MY definition, not yours or anyone else's. Thank you for your consideration. My sincerest thanks to Denny Wheeler for editing this story and, along with Uncle Sky, the Night Hawk, Wizard, Rod O'Steele, and, Old Man Ted, for their input and for keeping the characters in character. Special thanks to the Night Hawk for being my musical advisor. This story is dedicated to Uncle Sky, without whose encouragement Wynter would have remained a short story. NOTE: Because of the limitations of ASSM's moderation software I have split Part Three into thirds. Part 3A is Chapters 23-26 Part 3B is Chapters 27-30 Part 3C is Chapters 31-33 ************************************************************ WYNTER & HAILEY Part Three (C) Russell Hoisington Thirty One Richard worried when Dragon rose from his guard post to greet him but Wynter didn't move. He knew she was awake, but she didn't notice him standing in her doorway. He gently knocked. She remained on her side, facing the window, but her head rolled on the pillow. "Hi, Daddy." Her face, as blank as her voice, made him hesitate. "Can I come in?" "Of course." Her smile was weak when she said, "And you may, too." He'd have laughed as usual at her correction, but something obviously troubled her, and his fatherly instincts took over. He patted Dragon's head in passing and eased around to the left. "Would you like me to open your curtains?" If she had to think several seconds before answering, then she was inordinately troubled. His worry factor jumped several notches. "Please," she finally said in a detached voice. "You might not like it, though," he said as he drew the curtains open. "This evening's rain arrived early." She thought about that. "Maybe it will be over by Josh's birthday party tomorrow so people won't get wet going to it." She scooted toward the middle of the bed without another word, giving him enough room to sit. He sat and used one finger to push the long blonde hair back from her face, then bent to kiss her cheek. She rolled her head enough for a father/daughter kiss, then relaxed and resumed staring at the window. He gently stroked her arm. "Do you want to talk, just have me hold you, or have me leave until you're ready?" "Don't go." Her voice had a subtle urgency to it. He adjusted his position so that he could sit with his arm along her back and gently press her to his body. She'd often gone to sleep that way when she was five. That was seven years ago. Where had the time gone? "Daddy, I was scared." He wasn't sure how to interpret that. "Just now?" "On the boat." "Honey, that sounds reasonable to me." "How can I be a good doctor if I get scared in an emergency?" He considered options for his answer. One would be right, the rest would make things worse. He sighed and weighed them again. Finally he said, "If you were scared, then you thought before you acted and thus did the right thing. If you hadn't been scared, you might have done something foolish that would have made you a casualty, too. How could you be a good doctor to your patients if you suddenly became one of them?" "Suzie wasn't scared." _So that was it_. "Weren't you listening to what she said yesterday? She said the reason she wasn't scared was because she knew she could count on you and Ron and Cinnamon and Kenny. She knew that you'd do the right thing, whether you were scared or not. And you did, honey. You saved both of them. Who knows what might have happened to Ron if the boat had gone down without you there to care for him first? And Kevin says you're the reason Suzie didn't lose her leg, just as you were the reason that boy didn't lose his earlier." "Kenny was there, too." His hand made warm circles between her shoulders. "Yes, and he helped. But he told me he took instructions from you because that was your sole job. He also had to be a protector. The way he described it, you were the trauma surgeon and he was the... the... the OR nurse or... or the resident, maybe. Honey, Kenny told me that whatever his specialty was, he just hoped he could be half as good at it under pressure as you were Saturday." Her eyes rolled from the window to his, and she frowned. "Kenny didn't say that." "Want me to hand you the phone?" Her mouth fell open. "He really and truly said that? Kenny?" Richard crossed his heart with an index finger. "Honey, people who never get scared rarely become heroes. They die too easily. Real heroes are people who are scared to death but go ahead with the job because they know it's the right thing to do. Cinnamon did that. Ron did that. Kenny did that. You did that. Jimmy and Josh did that. And Suzie probably saved Kenny's life because the four of you inspired her to do the right thing, too." Her eyes drifted back to the window. She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. "Remember when Megan fainted after everything settled down the day of that wreck? I did that, too." Richard hummed in thought. "No," he said after a few seconds. "Not according to Huntly, Jimmy, and Kenny. Not according to me, either. Now, I may not be formally trained in the textbook areas of stress and its relationship to fatigue, but I've had graduate-level work experience several times. Just ask Joe. He was there for a few of them." He supposed her weak smile was better than nothing. "Fatigue accumulates faster under stress. Remember? Well, when you were finished, and not before, you lay down beside Suzie to help keep her warm, and you fell asleep." "I fainted." He shrugged. "Perhaps under the circumstances they're the same thing. Either way, when you were finished with your immediate duties, you rebuilt your reserve of strength." "The others didn't." Her voice broke slightly. "How do you know? You were asleep. Anyway, they let you sleep so that you'd be able to do your job properly if you were needed again. Anyone else could gather wood at any time. Anyone else could return to the boat for salvage at any time. But only Wynter King, Future MD, could provide the needed medical care if and when it was needed because Kenny wasn't about to leave Suzie unattended. And that need could come in minutes or hours. Nobody had any way of knowing when you'd be needed again. It wasn't weakness to go to sleep and rebuild your strength when you had the opportunity. It was good sense. Any soldier will tell you that you did exactly the right thing." After blinking at the window for several seconds her eyes rolled back to his again. "Are you sure?" He held up his left hand because his right was still rubbing her back. "Trust me! I've seen every picture John Wayne ever made." ~ ~ ~ Joe Lopez's left index finger scratched at an itch above his temple, right at the hairline. A hairline which, he hated to admit, was moving back a little more every year. "Don't you have anything better to do?" he asked. Both Marsh and Stiles opened their mouths, but he was fastest. "You spent all day yesterday harassing Kenny and then the rest of the people on the boat. They told you they saw nothing. You even went to the hospital and questioned Suzie, who wasn't capable of seeing anything from the beach, and my son, who was unconscious from the time he was shot until after he was in his hospital room. Nobody was up there except Kenny and De Ramirez. Nobody could see anything because of the scrub trees around the base of the cliff and the trees growing in places up the side of the cliff." He pointed to the investigation report on his clipboard. "This is our jurisdiction. We're satisfied. Give it a rest." "Chief!" Marsh pleaded. John Kramer lowered his coffee mug and shook his gray- fringed head while he swallowed. He returned the cup to his desk, sat upright in his chair, and said, "Joe speaks for me on this. My people investigated. We concluded that the only person at fault here is De Ramirez, who apparently fell while trying to flee up a steep hillside, one that was nearly a cliff, with one broken arm. After, by the way, he fired six bullets and a spear gun and then rolled a boulder down the hillside in multiple attempts to commit first degree murder. There's no evidence that points to any wrongdoing by Kenny Taylor or any of the other kids." He leaned back in his chair, which meant he was through talking. "I've seen this stunt before," Joe said the moment he saw the Chief's chair tilt back. "You screwed up, so you're trying to divert attention from yourselves by finding someone else to blame for anything else you can dream up." Marsh pointed at a closed portfolio in his other hand as if Joe and the Chief knew what was inside. "The boy won't say anything more than, 'He fell.' He won't give us any details. Isn't that suspicious to you, too?" "The way you two are acting? It's not suspicious, it's smart. He knows you're looking for a scapegoat. It couldn't be plainer if you wrote it on your foreheads in neon paint before you approached people with your questions." "Why would a kid who claims he wants to be a doctor learn martial arts?" The Chief's chair tilted forward. "To protect himself and his friends from someone like De Ramirez who wants to kill them, perhaps? Especially after he and they had been preyed on by bullies before?" Kramer picked up his coffee cup and leaned back. Joe seized the opening. "And that doesn't prove that Kenny did anything wrong." Marsh gave him a 'You idiot' look. "But nobody saw..." Joe slammed his clipboard down on his padded chair arm. "Exactly! Nobody else saw anything. You have no witnesses and no physical evidence that Kenny is to blame for anything!" "Well," Stiles said, "he did kill those two boys in revenge last year." Of the two, Joe liked Stiles better than he did Marsh. He was more level-headed than Marsh, who, while a visitor in Stiles' territory, had seized control from Stiles like he had the divine right to do so. But "better" was a relative term, as Stiles had just reminded him. "No," said the Chief, leaning forward in his chair and returning the cup to his desk. He frowned and shook his head. "Don't you bother reading incident reports so that you know what's going on before you charge off into action? Do you forget that tactic at the federal level, or do you get picked for federal jobs because you never learn it in the first place? Kenny used his shovel to knock out Sarrell. He saw Wilson was armed and used it to try knocking the pistol out of Wilson's hand. He was almost shot for his trouble, but fortunately the bullet lodged in his backpack. Wilson staggered back into a rotten support and collapsed the mine ceiling. THAT is what killed them. For Christ's sake, Kenny's best friends were there! He wasn't about to collapse the ceiling on them!" "He should have gone for help, not tried to rescue them himself." "And the time it would take to get to where he could call for help and then for us to arrive was far more than those two hooligans needed to rape the two girls and carry through their stated intent to murder them." Marsh exploded. "Well, he shouldn't have gone after De Ramirez! Your son should have notified us as soon as he saw the bastard and let the professionals handle it!" Joe started to speak, but Kramer was still leaning forward in his chair. The Chief's voice was calmer than Joe's would have been. In fact, the Chief sounded like he was asking for more cream for his coffee. "Ron and Kenny captured De Ramirez when you two and the rest of the professionals kept letting him slip through your fingers. They turned him over to us and we turned them over to the professionals, since you obviously don't consider US to be among that elite assemblage. You PROFESSIONALS lost him. He returned here, so Ron decided to capture him again for you PROFESSIONALS. Clearly he didn't trust your PROFESSIONAL abilities." "We didn't lose him," Marsh snapped. "Amarillo's police did." Somebody rapped on the Chief's door. He ignored it. "I see. You think Amarillo's police aren't PROFESSIONALS either. But, because you think that you'll be blamed anyway, you decided to deflect attention away from yourselves by charging a boy, a hero several times over, in fact, with murder, a charge you have no evidence to support. But that would shift media attention from you. Never happen. Not if I have anything to say about it." The knock repeated, erasing whatever the Chief was about to say next. "COME IN!" Kramer's secretary stuck her head through the door. "Chief, they're here." "Who are here?" "Oh. I forgot to tell you. I invited some guests," Joe explained. "They're right on time." Marsh held up a preemptory hand to silence Stiles. "This is supposed to be a private meeting." Joe grinned. "Trust me." He removed two sealed envelopes and two printed pages from the bottom of the stack on his clipboard, then introduced everyone as the men entered. "DEA Special Agents Hal Marsh of Dallas and David Stiles of Denver, this is Maynard Sillerman, distinguished reporter for the local newspaper, and Junior Arnold, up-and- coming reporter for the local radio station." Joe handed an envelope to each of the newcomers but asked that they not open them yet, then handed a printed document to each of the agents. "You gentlemen may want to read what's on the pages in those envelopes," he said to Marsh and Stiles. Stiles turned white. Marsh turned red and glared at the Chief. "You can't give them a press release like this!" While Kramer didn't know what Joe had written, he did know to trust his man. "It's my department. I can do whatever I want with it as long as I don't piss off the mayor." Marsh shook the papers in Joe's face. "This isn't true!" Joe smiled what he called his 'gotcha smile.' "It's the truth as I see it, and as I know these men will see it. As will the whole town after they report it. And I'm sure each will use his connections with the press to see to it that the rest of the state, and probably the rest of the country, will see it the same way. If you think there's one word of slander or libel in there, then you're most welcome to try to sue them." "Bring it on!" said a smiling Junior in a cheerful voice. "Right, Maynard?" Maynard Sillerman shrugged. "I haven't seen sued in, oh, fifteen years or so. I won that one, too." "Yep," the Chief said, sounding as if he knew what was going on. "We have one crackerjack lawyer who'd defend them for free just for the national publicity. And don't try confiscating those envelopes without a warrant, which you won't get from William Green after he reads what's in them." Joe's smile hadn't faded. "If you think you have a blame-by-association problem from what Amarillo did, just wait until the people and the press see that. Chief, I have important things to do. Is this meeting over?" "Is it?" he asked Marsh and Stiles. Marsh flashed Joe a look of pure hatred and stomped out without a word. Stiles thanked the Chief for his time, then said, "John, you know me. This wasn't my idea." Kramer nodded. "But this is YOUR territory, Dave. Marsh is your guest. Next time grow some balls." Stiles nodded, shook hands with everyone, and left, closing the door on his way out. "Do we get to open our presents now?" Junior asked Kramer. The Chief waved a finger at Joe. "I don't know. Ask him." "Don't bother," Joe said with a laugh of relieved tension. "The pages are blank. Just in case they were successful in getting those away from you, I put your copies in my desk, plus Sam was going to e-mail copies to you if I gave him the signal." Maynard's large head bobbed. "Planning ahead, Joe? Your son gets his scheming from you, eh?" Joe grinned and clapped Maynard on the shoulder. "No, I think I inherited it from Ron." ~ ~ ~ Suzie held a hand out over the bed rail. "I'm ever so glad you understand," she said in a quiet voice that wouldn't awaken Ron. She didn't want to hurt Josh's feelings, but she knew she had. She was also sorry that he'd ridden his bike to the hospital in the rain just to be told that she was going back to Kenny. Josh took her hand in both of his. "That's okay. I knew I didn't deserve someone as nice as you..." "Josh, that's not true! Well, maybe you deserve someone better than me or something." Josh shook his head and looked across the bed. "I don't think there is anyone better. Do you?" Kenny shook his head, too. "No. There's not. And I appreciate your watching out for her for me during the... While we... Well, thanks." Josh released his right hand from hers so he could shake hands with Kenny. "That's okay. It was... well, a privilege. An honor. I'm just glad the three of us can still be friends. I've seen people before stop talking to each other over something like this." Before she could speak, Kenny said, "She's a better person than that." Josh nodded, then moved his right hand back to hers. "You're still my best friend on the girls' swim team. I wish you could come to the party tomorrow. I'd rather have you there than anyone else." He suddenly looked up at Kenny. His face said he was worried that he'd said the wrong thing to her dolt or something. "We know what you mean," she said. "Don't we, Kenny?" Apparently her dolt did because he sounded ever so sincere when he said, "Josh has excellent taste in girls." She thought he also sounded a little like Huntly. "Josh," she said, "I never thanked you for going for help." He shrugged. "Somebody had to, and Kenny and Wynter and the rest had their hands full. I think it was a choice of Hailey or me, and, well..." He looked flosstered or something. "I mean, Hailey's a nice person..." Suzie laughed, thankful that she could do so without disturbing her leg. "We know what you mean," she said again. "Besides," Kenny said, his patented shit-eating grin sliding into place, "I don't think you'd have gotten her away from Ron." "Did I hear my name?" asked a sleepy voice from the other bed. "I'm sorry," Josh said, turning to look at Ron. "We didn't mean to wake you." "Unh uh. Nightmare. I was dreaming that I had pine beetles in my shoulder and they were eating me. That woke me up." "They probably crawled out of all the flowers," Josh said, waving one hand around. Suzie agreed. The room looked like the lobby of Floral City or something. She had cards and flowers from people she'd never heard of. She guessed some of them were from Ron's friends, but Officer Lopez had said he didn't know some of the names, either. She was going home later that afternoon, and Ron probably was, too. She was going to keep a few of the special flowers and have the rest given to other people in the hospital, especially the sick kids in the pediatric ward and the elderly people who didn't have many friends and family left. They talked for a few more minutes. She promised she'd still coach him to swim better, and then Josh kissed her and left. "The newspaper article didn't give Josh enough credit for what he did," Ron said with a yawn. Kenny moved around Suzie's bed so that he was between the two patients. "Mister Arnold made up for it on the radio," he said. "I taped his news report and his interview with Josh and the others so you two could hear them. He said that Josh is as big a hero this year as Suzie was last." "Thanks." He yawned again. "I can't wait to hear it. But I think I'm going back to sleep now." His breathing got real steady. Kenny gave her a kiss that was ever so nice. She opened her eyes afterward and said softly, "How long do you think it will be before we can do each other like we used to?" Kenny frowned with thought. "Couple of months, I guess," he whispered. "That long?" "Yeah," he whispered. "So we'll have to find some new ways that won't hurt your leg." She felt her worried look dissolve into a smile. She was already kinda horny. "Do you think you could use your fingers or something right now?" He shook his head. "Can't," he whispered. "Ron's not really asleep." ~ ~ ~ "Excellent!" Cinnamon beamed as she dropped the sticks in their holder and reached down for her clipboard. "I think we should add that to the playlist for the concert." "Excuse me. I don't mean to question the wisdom of the head bitch..." "It'd be the first time, shithead." Huntly ignored that. "Doesn't that make the sixth song on our list of three?" She gave him a long, steady stare until he flinched. "Okay, how did I say a stoopid this time?" Her eyes shifted to Jimmy's dad. "You want to explain it in simple terms?" He shrugged and gave her the clone of Jimmy' mischief grin. "I don't know if I can get that simple, but I'll try." Everybody else in the practice room cheered and applauded--to include, Cinnamon noted with satisfaction, Snoopy Watkins. Brinkly's incident with Possum fortunately hadn't been much of a setback at all for Snoopy. "Rodney Dangerfield gets more respect that me," Huntly grumbled. Mister McCauley's demeanor shifted slightly, and he suddenly reminded Cinnamon of Wynter giving one of her lectures. "The reason you have extra songs in your playlist is to cover your butt in case of a cold audience. If you see that style A leaves then unconscious, then you don't play another A, you play a style B." "That's simple enough," Cinnamon said, nodding her agreement. "Hey, if you want, like, simple, then guys are SO the over-qualed to cover it because they're, like, simple minded to begin with!" "Thanks, Cuz. I'm sure they need you to remind them that they are the inferior sex." "Hey, I KNOW they do. They are SO the simple! They almost need reminders to breathe." Cinnamon felt a thrill run through her when Snoopy laughed at that, too. One cousin almost salvaged, one to go. Duck Watkins bristled. "Hey! That is NOT funny!" Snoopy gently poked his arm. Okay, she would have to teach Snoopy how to backhand her brother at some later date. "Sometimes the truth isn't funny, Duck." "I really don't want to get involved here," LaMarcus said, crossing his arms atop his bass, "but I think I should point out that if all the guys walk out, you're left with a drummer, a synth player, and a piano player." "Hey!" laughed Hailey while flipping her hand. "That's all she needs. The rest of you are, like, SO the filler!" Jimmy frowned at LaMarcus. "Haven't you learned yet not to encourage her?" LaMarcus shrugged. "I've been out of town. I forgot." Cinnamon had been watching Snoopy with her analytical gaze. She decided it was okay to mention it and said, "By the way, I ran into Brinkly this afternoon." She should have expected the inevitable, "I hope you didn't hurt the wheelchair. The repair bills can be outrageous if they have to special order parts." "You would know, shithead." "I certainly do, bitch. From experience." "Anyway, she was just beside herself with glee." "And?" Jimmy's dad finally asked while the rest waited in the silence. "She was gloating about her good luck and our misfortune. Yeah. Lucky her, she's going to be the opening act, while us poor clowns will be stuck in last place, playing in the dark as the closing act." "NO!" Mister McCauley couldn't hold back his laughter. The rest of the band joined in, as did Derek Clark and Alyssa and the just-arrived Tyrone. The rest stared in confusion. "What?" asked Snoopy in her soft voice as her large blue eyes darted around. "I don't understand what's so funny." "Because," said Alyssa, who regained control of herself first, "by the end of the concert, everybody's forgotten about the first act. That's good if you were bad, but bad if you were good. The act they remember best is usually the last one, which is bad if you were bad, but good if you were good." "NOW I understand!" crowed Huntly. "If the audience wants encores, we're the ones who'll do them! That's why we have the extended playlist!" Cinnamon nodded, then shifted her attention. "Mister Hayes, nice of you to join us." "Sorry," he said. "One of the girls isn't feeling well. Momma was slow getting back from the clinic with her." She nodded again but lost her sarcastic look. "Okay, that's a good excuse." She had started to make a comment about his not calling, then realized that she'd be open to honest criticism from Sis about being a hypocrite. "Latest news, people," she said. "Doctor Taylor and some of his friends convinced the good people at IST to let Finnegan handle the sound for us. They were told they could let him do it or we'd provide our own sound equipment as usual and let the crowd wonder why theirs wasn't good enough for us. I think when they see how well he handles that aspect, they'll let him handle the lighting for us next time as well." "Not if Brinkly has her way," Huntly snorted. "It's a long time until next year." Everyone seemed to understand the threat in those words. Huntly definitely did because he made faint horse whinny sound that half the room missed. She drew sticks. "Okay, let's rehearse 'Ceiling' now. Since Suzie is unable to perform, I'll ask Megan to fill in for her again, since she knows what to do." "Sis?" Wynter asked. "I know it's only five days away, but Suzie may be able to get out in a wheelchair then. If she's able to without much discomfort, and she wants to, I think we should let her do the intro." Everyone else chimed in agreement. Snoopy quietly added, "I don't think Megan would mind. Suzie's her best friend on the swim team." "Not that I object," Huntly said, "but what if we need somebody to scream at the crowd? Does that duty fall to the pianist or the drummer?" "To Suzie," Wynter said, looking at Huntly like he was daft. "If you think she would be held back by that wound, then you don't know her one tenth as well as you pretend." Everyone else agreed. Cinnamon nodded. "Okay. Sis, do you want to ask her?" Her ponytail lashed as she shook her head. "Not my band. I'm just a guest performer." "You're right, Your Doctorness," Huntly said. "It's up to me." "In a pig's ear!" She pointed at Jimmy. "Junior will ask her." She knew that Suzie would give Jimmy an honest answer. If she were to ask Suzie herself or if Huntly were to ask for her, Suzie would agree out of a sense of obligation to a friend. You could never have too many friends, but you could inadvertently take advantage of them if you weren't careful. ~ ~ ~ The note waiting for the cousins when they entered the house said, "hot tub," so they greeted Ghost, removed their rain gear, and took the down staircase. Cinnamon was surprised to find both her father and Rosita up this late. She was sure that it wasn't to celebrate the dropping of the lawsuit in Boston earlier that day. She and Cuz kissed both of them, showered quickly, and joined them in the tub. Her father clearly had something in mind, but she didn't press him. He'd let them know soon enough. When 'Cinnamon Sticks' came through the speakers he smiled and squeezed her to his side in silence. At the end he gave her a fatherly kiss. "That song is one of the few things I know that's as pretty as you," he said, then kissed her again. "No offense," he added to Rosita. "I can't be offended by the truth," she said. "I think it was your daughter who taught me that." His reply was cut off by the phone. Rosita's smile was simultaneously conspiratorial and joyful. "It's for you, Hailey. Why don't you take it in the card room?" After a puzzled Hailey left the room Cinnamon turned to her father in excitement. "Do I get to talk to them, too?" Her father flashed his devilish grin as Hailey squealed, "MOTHER!" "On the phone or in person?" Her smile exploded so quickly that her cheeks almost flew up and bruised her eyebrows. She thought she would pee in the hot tub in her excitement. She kissed him in congratulations and climbed over him to deliver a congratulatory kiss to Rosita. Then, in breathless excitement, she asked in a rush of words, "So when are you two finally tying the knot? I have to start planning!" ~ ~ ~ Snoopy and Duck thanked Mrs. Erland for giving them a ride home and said good night to her and to Alyssa. LaMarcus had said he and his brother Reggie would give them a ride, but she was afraid to be in the car with Reggie and LaMarcus and Tyrone, even if Duck was there, too. She knew she shouldn't be. They were her friends. It was different back then, with Matthew. Matthew wasn't one of her friends. But, she'd trusted him. Sort of. She trusted him the way she'd trusted any of the boys at school. But LaMarcus and Tyrone were sort of her friends, even though LaMarcus was one grade ahead of her. Maybe not close friends, but classmate friends. She trusted them. Sort of. She and Duck splashed through puddles left in the gravel driveway by the light rain. Her mind whirled as she climbed the steps onto the wide wooden front porch. She trusted Cinnamon, too. And she believed Cinnamon. But she couldn't stop Matthew's voice inside her head telling her that she'd been asking for it all along. Duck held the door open for her. When she didn't move, he shrugged, then rolled his eyes and went inside, closing the screen door but leaving the wooden door open. She didn't blame Duck for not understanding. He didn't know her shame. Warm tears tickled her rain-cooled cheeks as they rolled down them. She couldn't go in like this. Someone might ask about her crying. She was lucky that it didn't start until she got to the house and that Duck didn't see it. She went to the swing and sat down. She wished she had her cousin to talk to right now, but Possum was probably asleep. She wished Possum had gone with her tonight, but, just like the boat trip last Thursday, Possum had backed out at the last second. She was almost angry with that new girl who had said such horrible things to Possum and caused her relapse. The new girl just didn't understand. That was all. Possum should have understood that, too, but she was still too shaken up inside. She wondered what she'd have done in Possum's place. She hated to admit it to herself, but she'd probably have done the same thing. That doggone Matthew was the cause of it all. If she and Possum hadn't trusted him... But she couldn't go through life not trusting all the men and boys. Cinnamon was right about that. But was Cinnamon also right that it wasn't her fault, that it wasn't what Matthew had told her? Cinnamon had also trusted him. But when he attacked Cinnamon, the little redhead had fought back. She wished she'd fought back, but she'd been so scared, just like Possum had also been, when Matthew attacked her. Forced her. The screen door squeaked open. Startled, she jumped. Mama looked around and saw her in the swing. Mama slipped out of the house, softly closed the screen door, and walked barefoot across the porch to the swing. She said nothing, just sat beside Snoopy and held her in one arm as the gentle rain pattered on the porch roof. Snoopy wrapped her arms around Mama and buried her face in Mama's neck. Their tears mixed and cooled on Mama's neck. Thirty Two _FUCK!_ Suzie had been having an ever so nice dream about Kenny before her stupid mother woke her up. She opened one eye and stared up from where she'd fallen asleep on the couch. Her stupid mother gave her a stupid smile. "Looks like you're about to have visitors," she said and indicated the stupid living room window with her stupid head. Suzie frowned, then sat up, being ever so careful not to move her right leg more than was necessary. Her mouth dropped open. Josh and everyone from his birthday party were coming up the driveway. Okay, it wasn't all that many people. Josh's parents didn't even have as much money as her own. But Josh and Kenny and Megan McNeal were in the front and they were bringing a box that probably had birthday cake and party food or something. She hadn't been this surprised since Jimmy called and said that they wanted her to do the introduction to Tyrone's song again. _I'm in a nightie!_ She had Mom help her get up and slip on her robe. The gang had brought the whole cake, along with paper plates, plastic forks, and a container of punch with paper cups. Her eyes got real teary or something while everyone told her it wouldn't be a fun party unless she could share. Mom helped serve everyone and then went into the kitchen while her friends gathered around her in the living room. She couldn't speak after Kenny proposed a toast to Josh for saving everyone and another to Suzie for saving him. Fortunately, everybody else was speaking and cheering and she couldn't have been heard or something anyway. She found a moment to apologize to Josh for not having a present for him. He stopped her real fast as soon as he realized what she was saying. "You know what Cinnamon said about not caring about the presents as much as she cared about the people? Well, she's right. The best present I can possibly have is you having some fun with us. That's why we're here, and not to get a packaged something from you. It would be a better present if you weren't hurt, but that's HIS fault, not yours." She nodded. She knew who Josh meant. Josh wasn't about to dignitize the stupid drug dealer by using his name, and she thought that was an excellent idea. Josh looked to see where her mother was and then said real quietly, "We have a second reason for being here. The girls want to know the result of the kissing contest, but the last contestant still hasn't competed." She looked at Kenny, who grinned and nodded both understanding and permission, then went into the kitchen to make sure her stupid mother didn't interrupt. Josh was breathless or something when she finally released him. "If I'd known you'd kiss me like that afterward, I'd have broken up with you ages ago," he said with the sweetest smile he'd ever given her. And that told her he really was okay with her going back to Kenny. "Well?" she asked. He grinned. "I don't think your mom wants to hear the announcement, so I'll make it back at our place. I'll just tell you that you took the silver medal and Megan took the gold and the rest will have to wait." One corner of her mouth twisted in a knowing grin. "Uh huh. Any truth to the rumor that you are going out with her now?" He looked startled. "We're planning on going to that new movie tomorrow. Where did you hear that rumor?" She grinned. "I just now started it." "I see. Well, we've been here long enough. We'll get out of here now and let you rest. Kenny said you might be performing instead of Megan Saturday." "I hope she doesn't mind." Josh grinned. "I think I can find some way to console her grief." She hugged him ever so much, ignoring the way it make her leg hurt, and gave him a kiss. "SUZANNE!" _FUCK!_ "MOOOOM! I was just thanking him for being ever so nice and including me! I was being polite. WYNTER taught me to be polite." Her mother seemed more shocked by the re-butte--or whatever that stupid word was--and apologized before going back to the kitchen, where she should have stayed in the first place. Everyone packed the trash back into the box, wished Suzie well, and then left, with Kenny last, just after Josh. Her stupid mother came into the living room as she stretched out on the couch "Do you need any help?" "NO!" Mom gave her an embarrassed smile or something and said, "That was nice of everyone to think of you." She put her head down and crossed the living room to the back hall. Suzie didn't know if she was going to one of the bedrooms or the bathroom and, honestly, she didn't care. Just as Mom walked through the arch, Suzie said quietly, "When are you going to stop treating me like I'm Caroline? It was just a kiss for a friend. I never did fuck him." She wasn't surprised that she got no answer. She hadn't expected one. ~ ~ ~ Wynter peered over the edge of the big flat rock and into the depths of the Porcupine Creek pool. "Brownie," she whispered as the trout slowly swam upstream into the pool. "Brownie," Jimmy repeated. She felt pretty darned good lying here in the dappled sunlight with Dragon pressed up against her left side and Jimmy against her right. "Where?" Hailey whispered from Jimmy's other side. Huntly, on Hailey's right side, showed her. "Never mind." Sis Two sure had been subdued since "the boat incident," as Jimmy called it. She wasn't as quick to flirt with guys now. Well, except for Jimmy and Huntly and Finnegan and Kenny, but Wynter thought that was all. Well, maybe her uncle, but Wynter hadn't been around to see her if she did. But even that flirting was mostly habit, although she'd noticed that Hailey remained willing to follow words with actions. Wynter wished she could tell Jimmy about Daddy and herself, but even though he seemed... she wasn't sure 'less prudish' was the term, but she sure couldn't think of anything else, either. Anyway, she didn't think Jimmy was quite ready to handle it. Sis One had said she thought he was borderline, and she trusted her little redheaded sister's opinion on psychological matters. In fact, the reason Sis One wasn't with them was that Sis was seeing her own patients that afternoon: Snoopy and Possum. Wynter's heart felt heavy in her chest whenever she thought about the two shy cousins. Thanks to that horrid Matthew Wylie, they were now as introverted as Hailey had been extroverted. Well, Hailey had moved more toward the center of the scale. Maybe now the Watkins cousins would, too, in order to keep the scale in balance. She sure hoped the universe worked that way. She went someplace else thinking about that and didn't return until Hailey's excited whisper of "Look! The minnow got away!" She focused and realized Jimmy was whispering to Hailey and Huntly. He'd known she was deep in thought and, ever the gentleman, hadn't interrupted her. Dragon knew she'd returned from someplace else. His warm tongue across her left cheek welcomed her back from there, so she shifted her weight and threw her left arm over his shoulders for a squeeze. Jimmy felt the movement and also knew she was back, but he was too polite to interrupt the excited Hailey. Although she was sexually subdued, Hailey otherwise was more excited than usual these past two days. Wynter had spent a whole day and night in her diagnosis cap before she finally pieced together the symptoms from Mrs. Vasquez's and both her sisters' behaviors. She could hardly keep still while she waited for the formal wedding announcement. Jimmy finally turned to her and gave her a kiss. "I think it's time," he said. She nodded, and they all moved back from the edge. She picked up her flute case and Dragon's leash, and they retreated partway back to the bike trail, to the spot where she'd found Jimmy's arrowhead. When they arrived, Jimmy touched the arrowhead through his shirt, the way he always did. "When we lived up in the mountain house," Wynter said, "I used to sit on the bank of our creek there and dangle my feet in the water while I practiced on my flute. I guess that's why I like to be by water while I play, so Jimmy suggested that I play for him here, since this is a special place for us. The few times I've done it has always been a special thing just between us, but I'd love to have you two here with us today because you are special people to us." Jimmy gave Huntly a stern look that he shifted to Hailey. "I can think of only three other people that Wynter would invite, so this is an honor that you shouldn't make light of." Neither one had made any smarty pants comments or looks in the first place. Jimmy was just overreacting to prevent someone from saying anything that might hurt her feelings, as usual. While Hailey looked subdued, Huntly looked very solemn as he tilted his head in a bow and said, "We are humbled and honored, Wynter, that you would include us and we'd love to listen." Jimmy looked like he couldn't decide whether Huntly was making fun of her. She rolled her eyes. "Jimmy," she said, "you sit here, please, and take Dragon's leash. Sis, you and Huntly would be comfortable right here, I think." Jimmy relaxed. When all were comfortable she opened the case and removed her flute. She kissed Jimmy, raised the flute into position, and softly began 'Love is Blue.' As always when she played, she and Jimmy became lost in each other's presence. A half-dozen songs later they remembered that they weren't alone when Hailey moaned. Both looked at the couple lying on the moss and kissing. She was worried about what Jimmy might say, but he merely gave her his grin-and-nod. She relaxed in relief but kept playing. When she finished the piece he whispered, "See how well you play love music?" Her heart felt too big for her chest. _Soon_, she thought. _Soon he'll be ready for me to tell him._ She smiled and gave him a kiss that made him moan, too. ~ ~ ~ Brinkly jumped when her mother slammed the cordless phone down onto the charging base, breaking off a large chunk of plastic and exposing base's wiring. Her mother screamed in frustration and threw the handset across the room. It bounced off the living room couch and cracked one of the front windows. "What did they say?" she asked after her mother's next screaming fit ran down. "They said it had been returned to them after three delivery attempts failed! Did you not answer the door last week?" "Motherrrr! NOBODY came by because of the smell from the yard! We need those costumes Saturday. That's just three days..." "GOD DAMN IT, I CAN READ A FUCKING CALENDAR AND COUNT! Now I have to find someone to fix the fucking window! Where the hell are the yellow pages this time?" Everything about the concert performance was turning out to be a disaster. She would have to arrange for her stand-by plan. She was sure she'd need it. ~ ~ ~ Wynter paused in the door to the rehearsal room and gasped. She thought her heart would explode right out of her chest and bounce off the far wall. Not only had Snoopy come to practice with Duck, but so had Possum. The girls stood huddled together by the refreshment table, talking to Monique. Sis looked up from helping Finnegan install the stick launchers. She gave Wynter a bright smile over her success. Wynter nodded understanding and then accepted a hug and kiss from Jimmy. "I couldn't believe that Cinnamon convinced her to come," Jimmy said in her ear as her hand found its home on his back. "She didn't," Wynter said. "She let Possum convince herself." "All the guys know not to crowd her," he murmured. "Huntly and I reminded them, just in case." They turned around at the sound of LaMarcus's voice from the stairway behind them, telling Alyssa about one of the recording sessions in New York. Jimmy stopped them down the hall and said, "Possum's here." "Yeah? Man, that's wonderful!" said LaMarcus. "Yeah!" agreed Alyssa with wide, excited eyes. "How is she doing?" "Everyone's letting her slowly get used to the group. The guys are staying back. We'll let her approach us first. Right now she's with Snoopy and talking to Monique." "Well, I guess I won't be announcing the news to everyone, then," LaMarcus said. "Would you get Cinnamon?" Jimmy nodded and spun back to the rehearsal room. Wynter quickly updated LaMarcus and Alyssa on Suzie's condition. Jimmy and Sis appeared as she finished. "What's up?" Sis asked, bypassing the pleasantries. "I talked to Fuzzy," LaMarcus said. "Maroon Bells was supposed to perform..." "I know. Brinkly apparently had her Dad cancel them because 'her' drummer wasn't going to appear with any other group if he wasn't going to play with hers." She paused when Wynter gasped. "Fuzzy found out and was going to quit, but I talked him out of it. He understands the importance of us beating her on talent alone. He told you about that? I asked him not to tell anyone." LaMarcus shrugged. "I already knew, so he told me, yeah. Ron's not the only one with sources." Cinnamon nodded as her grin appeared. Nonverbal communication symptoms told Wynter that his comment was a paragraph, not a sentence, to Sis. "We're all here now. You ready to start?" "I'm not done, unless you already know about the costumes." The little redhead looked up at him with a blank face. "Costumes?" "I didn't think so because that goes against your plan. I think. She ordered matching outfits for the band. The UPS driver reported three attempts to deliver the package without success and then returned it to the company in Maine." Wynter didn't see that as a big problem. "Why can't they just overnight it? Brinkly can afford it." "Unh uh. The company doesn't want to re-ship because, they say, they don't want the hassle of dealing with another returned shipment. Apparently somebody's been talking, if not using connections." Cinnamon's fist slammed into her palm. "Freelancers! The town's getting into it. I want to beat that bitch with talent, but somebody's going to screw things up for me." Alyssa nodded. She'd finally realized that the Wards had been having too many "accidents" for it to be coincidence, but she hadn't suspected Cinnamon had been behind any of it. That was because Alyssa hadn't been wearing Wynter's diagnosis cap and examining the symptoms of those incidents. "So how do we stop them?" Wynter asked. She sure couldn't think of a way. "We can't," Jimmy said. "We just have to hope that nothing big happens tomorrow or Friday." Sis sighed. "Well, we're not going to beat them on talent if we don't rehearse. I want to do a couple of run- through's on 'Dancing' and then, if it's fine, I'll release Alyssa, Dustin, and Derek. Duck, too, if he doesn't want to stay with Snoopy and Possum. I think we'll make it to 'Caravan,' so I want us to work on our solos together to make sure we sound coherent and not like box of individual marbles rattling around at random the way we will if we keep practicing at home." Wynter accompanied Jimmy back to the practice room after another kiss. She sure hoped nothing would go wrong at the concert. She didn't expect anything to happen. But she hadn't expected anything bad to happen on the boat cruise, either. ~ ~ ~ Brinkly came awake when the phone started ringing. It wasn't her line. That had gone dead the day before and wouldn't be fixed for another day or two. It was the house line. It quit when her father answered it. She looked at her clock. Two in the morning. She grumbled and went back to sleep. When the phone awoke her again it was only twenty minutes later. Then another twenty after that. The next time it awoke her, at three, she punched her intercom and asked who kept calling. "Nobody," her father said. He sounded mad enough to chew iron. "It's a damned fax machine either from an 800 number or from a blocked caller ID number." At three- twenty her father shut off the phone ringers. ~ ~ ~ Wynter pronounced the wound to be "healing nicely with minimal drainage." She rewrapped Suzie's bandage while her patient lay on the couch. As she did so she resumed her synopsis of the previous night's rehearsal. "Possum was there with Snoopy for the second night in a row. She seemed to be more at ease this time. Final rehearsal is tonight. Cinnamon says that if she's there tonight, she'll be well on her way to recovery." "Good," Suzie said. "I hope ever so much that she gets over it." Mrs. Middleton sat in the rocking chair, looking more relieved than she had been before Wynter had examined Suzie's leg. "Is Snoopy continuing to improve, too?" she asked. Wynter thought she heard Suzie make a soft growl, but perhaps her friend was just having problems breathing with her face in the pillows. "Yes, ma'am. It's slow, and Possum has almost caught up to her again. Cinnamon thinks they'll improve faster once they're about the same." "I hope so." "Suzie, if you want to go to the concert tomorrow, you can go in the wheelchair as long as it isn't painful. If it hurts you, though, you should stay home. And if it starts hurting there, you should leave." Mrs. Middleton squirmed in the rocker. "Are you sure? Maybe we should get Doctor Taylor or Doctor Delvy to..." "MOOOOM!" Suzie growled in a very disdainful tone. Wynter used her fingertips to gently spank Suzie's left leg in admonition. "Your mother is saying she wants a second opinion. There's nothing medically wrong with that, and it's a good practice with a serious injury." "Sorry, Mom," Suzie said. She sure didn't sound sorry to Wynter. Mrs. Middleton dry washed her hands. "No, if Wynter says it's okay, then... okay, I guess. I trust her." "All done," Wynter announced. "Let's put this away and then you can see your surprise." She helped Mrs. Middleton put away the medical supplies and helped Suzie turn over and rise to a seated position with her leg along the couch seat. Then she retrieved the waterproof portfolio she'd brought. She'd needed it for the first part of her trip, but the light drizzle stopped as soon as she crossed the Ninth Street bridge over Porcupine Creek. She carefully removed the matted and framed drawing and handed it to Suzie, whose eyes grew wide and round. "HOLY SHIT!" she whispered. "Suzanne," her mother said in a rising tone. "Mom! Look at this!" Mrs. Middleton rose from the rocker and sat on the edge of the couch by Suzie. "HOLY SHIT!" she whispered as she looked at the montage of colored pencil drawings of her daughter. The central character was Suzie standing in the state swim meet's winner's circle and wearing her medals. Around it were smaller pictures of Suzie leaning forward ready to leap in the water, Suzie leaning forward ready to scream at the audience at the talent show, Suzie in her coach's cap and swim camp tee shirt, and a half-dozen other poses and situations from over the past year. And down in the corner a small drawing of a dejected Amber Vallarta. Suzie laughed when she realized that was hidden in with everything else. "Thank you ever so much!" she said, handing her mother the drawing so that she could hug Wynter. "I'll have to decide where to hang it." Mrs. Middleton's voice was hesitant. "Suzie? I think it would look best right there," she pointed, "by that curio cabinet, where everyone who comes here can see it." Suzie looked like she was about to argue out of stubbornness, so Wynter said, "I think she's right! That way any visitors can see how good you are and how much your parents love you by putting it out for them." Suzie thought about it, then sighed and said, "Fine. I like it there, too." Wynter hoped that Sis's curing the last of Snoopy's and Possum's psychological problems wouldn't be as difficult as her curing the last of Suzie's. Of course, unlike Sis, she had Kenny to help. ~ ~ ~ While her tongue assaulted Hailey's button Cinnamon used thigh masturbation to get herself off. For some reason her period hadn't quite stopped that day, which was a little uncommon, but not all THAT unusual for her. Stars exploded, and she moaned into Hailey's smoothly-shaved goodie box. Hailey ran her fingers through the long red hair and interlaced them behind her head. "My turn," she panted, then began humping her sopping wet slit against Cinnamon's face. Her thighs clenched around her cousin's head. Her own head curled downward as if trying to roll across the small mounds being lifted as her back rose off the mattress. Cinnamon's left hand rhythmically squeezed the tanned folds around her tongue while her right slid up the taut belly muscles to play with the hardened nipples. She tried to wiggle her face deeper into her cousin's goodie box, but the legs gripped her head too tightly, almost pulling her face out instead as Hailey's upper body suddenly pushed down and the lower half rose. She moaned, this time afraid that she would be separated from the hot, wet, tasty succulence she was enjoying. In an instant her face was shoved back into the treat as Hailey's lower back slammed down, pulling her legs up and her upper body into a curl. Cinnamon redoubled the efforts of her tongue as bulging, overtight neck muscles caused her cousin's head to bob in an exaggerated "yes" nod and she grimaced like her chin was trying to reach up and touch her eyebrows. _Cuz is having a big one_, she realized. Hailey's usual pattern was the largest one first, with the rest slowly declining in intensity. Her right hand released the nipple and flew downward. She shifted her chin slightly to make room for her fingers, moistened the middle one in the abundance of juices, and probed for Hailey's "other way in." As it entered to the first knuckle she made her tongue flutter even faster on Hailey's swollen button. Hailey's hands pulled away and drew up toward her armpits in little rapid jerks. She wiggled the fingertip and Hailey exploded, ending with a moaning gasp that should have awakened Daddy and Rosita. Unless those two weren't through with each other and were still awake. But by now Rosita knew that the cousins did more than sleep in each other's beds. And she probably knew that Hailey joined in on Daddy's "visitation nights." When Hailey collapsed like soggy pasta, Cinnamon slowly, gently but without tickling, lovingly licked the firm folds and the hot wetness within while Cuz gasped for air. Hailey had the best goodie box she'd ever tasted. Daddy had even admitted that he concurred with that, but he tried to avoid hurting Cinnamon's feelings by saying she had the nicest tits and ass. The way he could be honest with her but still try to protect feelings that weren't at risk was one of the many reasons she loved him. And that was why she hoped that Cuz hadn't awakened him, or Rosita, while she was "singing love arias in the dark." She grinned as she tried to push her face inside Cuz, who had almost gotten her breathing back to normal. Another old term of Daddy's that she hadn't thought of in some time. She wondered why she should think of it now. Her face went slack as she realized why. Her subconscious had been at work. She jerked back, rising up to her knees and puckering her brow in concentration, reexamining the facts and comparing what she knew to what she had deduced. Hailey lifted her head from the mattress and frowned with puzzlement. "Did I fart?" Cinnamon looked at the clock. Ten minutes after midnight. Should she call or not? They had only fourteen hours until performances began. She hesitated another few moments, then threw herself to the side of the bed, grabbed the phone, and punched the speed dial for Finnegan. ~ ~ ~ Set-up for the concert began at eight Saturday morning. Wheeled platforms that could be used by the various acts sat off-stage. Drum kits and keyboard instruments were the primary occupants of the platforms, though even a solo player could use a small one if desired. When the platforms were ready they were wheeled into place and had their positions marked on the floor of the shell with industrial tape, and then the lighting crew recorded general settings. Afterward they were wheeled off to stage left until the performance. IST provided security people to insure that nobody sabotaged the acts by moving the tape or interfering with the instruments on the platforms. Ron had provided a few friends to make sure that the IST Security crew did its job. You could never have too many friends. Cinnamon looked up from final assembly of her kit when Guy Malone asked, "So am I finally going to learn what those gadgets are?" Guy had seen the stick launchers, minus the compressed air bottles, on her home kit the day of her birthday party, but she told him that their purpose was a secret. They were still missing the compressed air, and Finnegan was bolting the launchers to the platform, much to the consternation of the IST supervisors. She grinned at him. "The truth is about to be revealed." She glanced at her watch. "In about eight to ten hours." Finnegan looked up. "You'll have to own one after you see it, but this is the only one I'm building, and I'm going to control the patents on it." Cinnamon laughed. "I guess you're going to be jealous and frustrated." From the look on his face, she decided that he was already that in a non-musical sense. She turned back to her work. "You going to help Fuzzy set up first?" "Five minutes ago, I thought. I guess the guys in the equipment van stopped at McDonald's for breakfast. Looks like your others are ready," he said. "They finished a couple of minutes ago. Hand me that sixteen-incher, would you, please? Wynter and Jimmy and his dad went to check out the dressing tent. Alyssa went home with her mom. Huntly's here with Hailey and LaMarcus, somewhere." He handed her the cymbal and watched her attach it. "Set up should have been yesterday, and they should have had a brief rehearsal, especially since it's the first time anyone's used the shell." "Uh huh. I smell a rat. One with short brown hair." He agreed. "I've been thinking," he said as she placed the last cymbal. "It's too bad that the costumes weren't delivered. They were so lame that these people," he waved a hand to indicate the entire town, "would have laughed them off the stage." "No," she countered, "it's a good thing. I want to beat her on talent. I intend to prove today that I'm the better drummer, and I don't want people distracted by Fuzzy in a lame costume." He grinned. "I expect you to beat him. I'd expect you to beat me if I were playing." She looked up and shook a finger at him. "Then I would. If you go into it expecting to lose, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. You should always go out there and play like you expect to win. Always! If I ever learn that you haven't, no more free lessons. No paid lessons, either. I'm like Suzie at swim camp. I won't coach losers." He nodded. "As you command. I'm glad I have you as a voice of reason in all this. You know, I need a voice of reason. You want to get married before your act?" "Nah," she said with a grin. "If I did, Huntly would try to hurt you, and then we'd lose our lead guitarist." ~ ~ ~ After their platforms were placed and marked, Finnegan unclipped a tape measure from his belt, checked a sheet of notes from his pocket, and then calculated the positions for marks that he made on the concrete with a special crayon. Even if somebody tried to erase them, enough residue would remain that he could find them with his portable black light. He was positive that Cinnamon's conclusion was right. This was going to be his chance to show the world what Finnegan Burke could do under pressure. ~ ~ ~ _This is it! This is really and truly it!_ Wynter knew it the moment she and Jimmy came around the corner of the concert shell and she saw the faces of her sisters, Doctor Brees, and Mrs. Vasquez. No, the Future Mrs. Brees. She decided she'd better get used to thinking of her that way, so that it would be easier to just drop the "Future" title and think of her as Mrs. Brees. She didn't know yet when she could drop it, but she knew from the symptoms that she was about to learn. The concert shell didn't have picnic tables around it like the Otter Park gazebo did. Everybody sat on the ground, most on picnic blankets, some on portable chairs. One of the disadvantages of living in the mountain towns is that there wasn't a whole lot of level ground, but that was an advantage for the concert shell. While it was gentle and not steep, the ground in front of the shell was an incline that rose as you moved back into the audience area. That meant that if you weren't seated in chairs, the better places to sit were not right up front, where Wynter noticed a lot of International Ski and Trail people sitting, but out where her attention was focused. "Jimmy!" "I know! I see it! Come on!" They clasped hands and eagerly rushed to the clustered Breeses, McCauleys, Taylors, Middletons, Sheridans, Kings, and Grandpa Wolfe. They almost skidded to a stop. Wynter put one arm around her father's waist and the other around Jimmy's. She wished she had a third arm for Grandpa Wolfe, who stood behind her with his big hands resting gently on her shoulders. "Well," said Doctor Taylor, "we finally have a quorum. Mitch has an announcement." Doctor Brees looked like a fifth grade boy with a frog that he was going to put in the teacher's desk drawer. "Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking," he began with a grin. "HEY!" Hailey shouted, putting her hands on her hips and frowning at him in a VERY condescending and disdainful manner. "Like, skip the crap and get on with it, or I'm SO gonna sic HER on you!" One hand flew off her hip and extended an index finger to Suzie, who was grinning in her wheelchair. Doctor Brees flinched back, pulling his hands up in front of his chest. He looked at Doctor Taylor. "You had the right idea, Kevin. Only sons and nephews. I should have met you earlier." "NOW!" It was a chorus of the Future Mrs. Brees and both of Wynter's sisters. He surrendered and squeezed his Future Wife to his side. "The formal invitations will be in your mailboxes Monday, but based on the dates that Hailey's parents can be here, we've set the date for September eighteenth." After the congratulations and sympathies had been awarded, they took seats on the blankets, all except for Suzie who stayed in her wheelchair. Wynter was thrilled that Jimmy's Uncle Jim and Aunt Nancy could be there, too. It would be the first time they'd seen Junior and the Twins perform, just as it would be for Grandpa Wolfe. She wished Jimmy's Uncle Evan and Aunt Susan could be there, too, but they had to stay home because of business. She knew it wasn't very polite at all, but she wasn't the least bit sorry that her own Aunt Dumb and Uncle Bozo and Baby Christopher couldn't be there. This was the first time that Grandpa Wolfe had met Doctor Brees, but you'd have thought they'd known each other since Doctor Brees was born. And she'd thought Grandpa had gotten along well with Doctor Taylor! Cinnamon and Hailey practically crawled all over him, as usual, but she thought her heart would explode from her chest whenever she saw Grandpa giving special attention to Suzie so that she wouldn't feel left out. Each family had brought a dish to go with Doctor Brees's excellent barbecued chicken. Wynter thought her father was going to kiss Jimmy's Aunt Nancy after he discovered that she'd brought some of her scrumptious apple pies that he loved. And Kenny had brought a special tray that mounted on Suzie's chair so that she wouldn't have to juggle plates in her lap. Almost everyone ate until "stuffed through the gills" as Grandpa said. While Jimmy was at the Porta-Potties with Huntly, Wynter leaned against her father and watched Grandpa Wolfe kneeling next to Suzie, holding her hand and making her eyes sparkle with one of his tall tales. Mother leaned around Daddy and said, "Dad has been doing some adopting on his own. Sometimes I think he can't decide whether you or Suzie is his favorite, and then I see him with Cinnamon and Hailey and wonder if it's a four-way competition." Wynter giggled, then watched it become a six-way competition when Snoopy and Possum stopped by to see Cinnamon. Sis didn't hesitate to introduce them to Grandpa. At first Wynter worried about what effect her big bear of a grandfather would have on the shy, frightened cousins, but Sis's instincts had been right. Within two minutes he was hugging both of them, and they looked like they couldn't be happier. She didn't realize Jimmy had returned until his head appeared over her shoulder and he said, "Even if nothing else goes right, today has been a success." Wynter sure couldn't argue with that diagnosis. And then the speakers squealed with feedback and Mister Junior Arnold took the stage. ~ ~ ~ _FUCK!_ Suzie wondered if that dolt Mister Arnold would EVER shut up and let the bands play. She thought he'd shut up as soon as the instrument platform thingys were in place, but NO! He finally got through with what a great honor it was to be the first stupid announcer at the first stupid use of the stupid "International Ski and Trail Wizard Basin Concert Shell," a stupid name that made no sense since it was in Otter Park and not across the stupid highway in Wizard Basin. Then he started another stupid long-winded introducing of Mister Ward from IST who was the entertainment director responsible for the program, and then Mister Ward's wife and bosses or something. Then Mister Ward made a stupid speech, but one not nearly as long as Mister Arnold's. "Finally," Mister Arnold said, "before I introduce the first act I'd like to say a few words about what we call the Schoolership Fund that will be funded by future concert competitions..." Well, remind her to look surprised next Tuesday. She really hadn't expected the stupid-looking dolt in his stupid clothes to shut the heck up and get off the stupid stage. "Junior?" yelled a voice somewhere over on the other side of the crowd. It was Mister Sillerman. "Do you plan to let any of the bands play before the first snowfall?" Kenny, who was sitting beside her, said something to her father that made them both laugh. "But I guess I've talked long enough," Mister Arnold said with a stupid grin. "I should save some remarks to fill time between the acts." "HELLO!" Kenny said in his weird voice. "EARTH TO JUNIOR ARNOLD! DUH!" Then he winked at her and squeezed her hand before kissing it, and she forgot that she'd been mad. "Today's first act is The Brink of Disaster, a new band created and fronted by a new arrival in town, the daughter of Rick and Lynne Ward, MISS BRINKLY WARD!" The applause as Brinkly, waving her guitar over her head, drove her wheelchair out to the center of the stage was barely loud enough to cover up the sounds of the birds chirping or something. It sure as heck wasn't loud enough to cover up the sound of Cinnamon giggling, which got her going, too, just ahead of all the other girls. Huntly made a snoring sound. That got others around them to giggling. The shocked look on Brinkly's stupid face changed to one that looked like she'd inhaled in the pool or something when the rest of the band got good enough applause as they were introduced. The stupid witch smiled when she dropped the arms of her wheelchair so she could play guitar, but it looked ever so phony, just like Mister Balfour's wig. Their first song, 'What's In It for Me?', was okay, but it was nothing to get excited over. She did think that was an ever so appropriate song title for that stupid little witch. And it was the best of their three stupid songs. The rest of the band did fine, but Brinkly's stupid face switched between looking worried and looking mad or something through the next one. The last song was delayed when the stupid witch broke a stupid string on the opening cords, though Suzie couldn't for the life of herself understand why they were called strings part of the time and then cords, too, like the words didn't mean the same thing or something. She'd have to ask Cinnamon or Wynter. No. She'd ask Huntly or LaMarcus, since they played string instruments. The stupid band had barely gotten off the left side of the stage when she heard that stupid Brinkly start screaming at everybody else. _Not bad,_ Suzie thought, _but I do it MUCH better._ Thirty Three As dusk arrived, Wynter decided that sharing Doctor Brees' lap with Hailey while Cinnamon sat in his Future Wife's lap sure was great. She'd rather be sitting Grandpa Wolfe's lap, but Snoopy and Possum had returned and had his lap fully occupied. That was fine. Besides, it was fun trying to decide who looked the happiest of the three, something Mother appeared to be discussing with Daddy and Mrs. Taylor. Sis sure had prescribed the perfect treatment for the cousins. "Ladies and gentlemen," Mister Arnold announced, "that was Vail's own SAGEBRUSH SIDEWINDERS! Let's give them a big hand!" The country band ran off stage left. Cinnamon gave the Future Mrs. Brees a kiss and sprang to her feet. "It's time." She signalled the others and fluttered her hands in a shooing motion. Hailey and Wynter rose after squeezing Doctor Brees's cheeks like kissing bookends. Wynter also kissed her parents and Grandpa Wolfe. With everyone wishing them luck and with Kenny pushing Suzie's chair, they hurried around the right side of the concert shell. Wynter suffered sudden acute anxiety disorder when she saw nobody guarding the entrance to their dressing tent. When they were near enough she heard two voices inside, and she returned to normal when she recognized one of them. She didn't know the other senior who was in the tent with Guy Malone, but she recognized him as one of Ron's friends, Doug somebody. "What are you doing here?" Cinnamon asked Guy. "I got to thinking about your rat with the short brown hair and watched from the trees. Sure enough, one of IST Security's guards started giving Doug a hard time and tried to get into the tent. The two of us taught him not to trespass. Turns out he isn't IST Security after all. Bill Hlavacek took him to the station for some questions." Doug nodded. "He works for IST's Entertainment Division, not Security. Looks like he borrowed a uniform from somebody. We moved inside in case she sent somebody under the back of the tent next." Sis nodded. "Good thinking. Thanks, guys. We need to change and get ready." Doug and Guy went outside with the boys while the girls changed. "I expected something like this," the little drummer said as she stripped. "They'll have tried messing with the instrument platforms, too, just to throw us off guard, but three of Ron's friends watch them at all times. She'll look like she's making a play for those, but I'm betting her main stroke is her secret plan." "Secret plan?" asked a confused-looking Monique, who wasn't the only one looking confused. "What secret plan?" Cinnamon grinned wickedly. "The one I hope Finnegan is prepared for, if he's back." "Oh, he's here," said Alyssa, struggling with the bathing suit that had horrified her mother on the Fourth of July. "He and Reggie Reed were pushing something on a dolly through a door into the backstage as we came around the corner. It was tall and skinny, wrapped in black cloth." "Damn." Cinnamon fastened her bikini top. "Too bad Brinkly doesn't have any balls or we'd have her by them." Wynter had no ideas about Sis's plan or Brinkly's plan. From what little Hailey knew, she didn't think her diagnosis cap would help her this time. She checked herself and then helped Shamisa assist Suzie, whose new bikini was under her street clothing. Somebody's hand slapped the tent flap several times. "Hey!" yelled Huntly. "You plan to take all night in there? If Junior Arnold has to fill in a gap because we aren't there, the crowd will..." She heard Kenny growl, "They're helping Suzie, you idiot!" at the same time Sis One threw the door open. Huntly almost knocked Kenny over jumping back a step. "Uh... Hi, bitch! Any of the girls need a hand? I have two, so I could help two of them. Or even three if..." The little redhead's arm shot up to point a finger at Huntly's nose. "You can still play guitar if I break your legs, shithead, so don't tempt me!" "Okay! Sorry! But would you like me to make sure Hailey's wearing panties this time?" "I am," Sis Two said as she quickly brushed Suzie's hair. "Okay, I'm done." Cinnamon left her finger in front of Huntly's nose and gave the tent a quick scan. "Everybody? Okay, let's turn this place over to the guys and hope they don't trash it. What are you doing?" Huntly was sniffing her finger. "Just checking," he said with an innocent face and a shrug. "I didn't know where it had been." "HUNTLY!" Wynter giggled at Jimmy's horrified cry. Mister McCauley grabbed Huntly's shoulder. "I'll keep him in line for you," he said. "I know I can trust YOU," Sis said with a withering look at Huntly. The girls began filing out, Suzie first with Hailey pushing her chair. "And I'll make sure he doesn't sniff the girls' underwear." "DAD!" Wynter shook her head and kissed Jimmy before pushing him toward the tent opening. The main part of his prudectomy seemed to be completed, but he still needed a lot more work on his Father Anxiety Disorder. "Okay, Wynter's in charge," Cinnamon said. "I'm going up to the shell to check on things. She'll bring the rest of you in a nice, QUIET group. We're not a bunch of little Brinklys, so remind Duck and Derek of that." Sis said that last looking directly at Suzie, who sat up straight in her wheelchair, grinned, and nodded. Wynter wasn't exactly sure how a coach was SUPPOSED to look, but she thought Suzie sure did look coach-like at that moment. "We need to be there by the time that German oompah band takes the stage, in case something goes wrong and cuts their performance short. If your portion of this bunch isn't ready by the time Sawtooth--they're the ones before the oompah band--is announced, kick butt. Be moving by the start of Sawtooth's third number. I'll make sure they don't get in the oompah band's way when you arrive, so you herd the rear. You shouldn't have a problem with the guys, meaning Duck and Derek, as long as the McCauleys are in there, and Kenny can also apply any strong-arming you need." She grinned. "But if all else fails, you have Suzie. I hope you brought earplugs for that." ~ ~ ~ Finnegan, already wearing his headset, was explaining to Reggie Reed what he wanted as they exited the rear of the stage right wings onto the Mayor William Carlton Memorial East Ramp, named in memory of a well-respected mayor from somewhere back in ancient history. "Everything ready?" asked Cinnamon as she rushed up the ramp and gave each of them a hug. "Yeah. We're headed down to the sound booth." The 'booth' was an open platform in front of the stage, back near the statue of Jack Hargus. The IST crew would control the individual instrument speakers with a mixer board from there, as well as the stage lighting. Finnegan's dad had drawn up a contract that would guarantee that J&F Burke, Inc., and not some IST crewman, would run the board during any and all times that any member of or guest performer of Junior and the Twins was on the stage unless IST was granted express permission to do so, with permission revokable at any time for any reason whatsoever, period, comma, quotation mark, question mark, and/or exclamation mark. It included a heavy penalty clause, though Mister Ward's office had assured his dad that it wasn't necessary. Finnegan couldn't believe that IST's legal department hadn't challenged the fact that the contract covered all future performances, but Dad had said they would think they had an escape route. Sure enough, IST proved that big city lawyers from back east were overconfident when facing small town lawyers out west. IST signed it. The contract stated that it was subject to the laws of Montana, where J&F Burke had been incorporated. What those lawyers thought was an escape clause was actually a bear trap under Montana law, and they had sprung it on themselves. Finnegan now had complete control of their sound in the future, too, just as Cinnamon had wanted. Cinnamon pointed to the case he was carrying. "Alyssa said she saw you wheeling them in. That the control board? Will you be able to patch it in quickly enough?" Finnegan bristled at the implied insult. Cinnamon should know him better than that. "HEY! GIMME A BREAK, BREES! YOU THINK I'M AS DUMB AS BRINKLY?" Reggie laughed. "Boy genius here made the whole thing remote control. No wires to 'accidentally' break or come loose except from the towers to the power outlets, and we'll be watching those after we wheel out the towers." "Yeah!" Finnegan chortled. "I had a bunch of servos and RC switches lying around for the robot I've been designing to clean my room for me." He gave one of Cinnamon's tits a squeeze when she kissed him. "You're a good friend to have," she said. "I owe you one, big time. Okay, get down there, and I'll check with Weasel." They watched her scram through the doorway before continuing their journey. "That girl has one seriously fine butt on her," Reggie said as they trotted down the ramp. "I know!" Finnegan boasted. "I've seen it out of that bikini bottom." "WHAT? And you didn't bring me no pictures? Man, what kind of friend are you anyway?" Finnegan spent most of the journey to the sound platform telling Reggie about Cinnamon's "finer attributes." He wasn't really surprised when he got to the platform and had to show them a copy of the contract. Or that he needed Reggie to get the head tech to read it. He was surprised, though, when the head sound tech became supercooperative because Reggie showed the fuckwit a copy of an announcement that Mister Arnold would read to the audience if there was any problem. Reggie said that the last was Ron's idea. ~ ~ ~ Wynter kissed Jimmy before he ran out from stage right and waved at the applause. "AND FINALLY!" Mister Arnold said, and the crowd exploded. "THE GREATEST DRUMMER EVER TO PERFORM AT GRIFFIN MIDDLE SCHOOL, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, CINNAMON BREES!" Sis adjusted her bikini top and rushed out with her smile about to push her cheeks off her face and her hands waving wildly overhead. The noise got even louder when she appeared, with a lot of the cheers replaced by whistles and cat calls and at least two marriage proposals. Instead of going to the drum platform, Sis ran to Mister Arnold. He turned off his mike and leaned down to listen. He nodded, waved, and left. Sis switched her headset for the speakers as Wynter noticed that Huntly was quietly slipping on some finger picks. "Thank you! Ladies and gentlemen, I have four important announcements." She waited as the crowd quieted a little. "Thank you! The first two are to IST. First, we wish to thank them for allowing us to play!" Wynter giggled at the way Sis put just the right amount emphasis on "allowing". "Second, we wish to thank them for their quick response when the phony IST Security guard attempted to enter our tent." It was now night, but there was plenty of light in front of the stage for Wynter to see Mister Ward look around in confusion, Mrs. Ward look disappointed, and Brinkly slam one arm of her wheelchair. "Third, one member of the band you won't see tonight unless you turn around is Finnegan Burke, who will mixing our sound at the sound booth behind you. He's as much a member of this group as any performer, so give him a hand!" The band members added their own applause and cheers for Finnegan. "And finally," said Sis when she had everyone's attention again. "Junior and the Twins has a long-standing tradition, dating all the way back to its founding on the morning of Saturday, August the eighth..." Sis waved at the laughter and applause, then made quieting motions with her hands. Wynter, like Sis, knew the audience thought she was making a joke. They wouldn't think so for long, especially two of the audience members. "A tradition," she continued, "of dedicating our performances to somebody special. We decided that night to dedicate our performance to one of the two most special people we know. Then on the fourteenth I realized that we also know another very special person, someone who will be on the stage here shortly, someone who heroically risked her own life to save that of another." Wynter had no trouble hearing Suzie shriek of surprise because she was standing right beside her, but she had NO idea what Suzie's incoherent words were. "Ladies and gentlemen, the co-recipient of tonight's dedication, escorted by the one whose life she saved, MISS SUZANNE MIDDLETON!" The crowd rose as Kenny pushed a crying Suzie, mouth covered by her hands, to the stage front for a magnificent ovation as Huntly and Mister McCauley played the intro to 'Suzie-Q.' Kenny moved beside her and introduced her with his hands. "Man, I have seen some cool acts," Dustin said to Tyrone, "but I haven't seen any as cool as Cinnamon, with or without her drums." "Word, Brutha!" Tyrone said, his face in danger of a smile-induced rupture. "They don't come any finer'n Little Momma." Alyssa shook her head while she continued to applaud. "No. But I think Suzie's almost a tie." Tyrone pressed sideways against her as all applauded. "Word, my friend! Word!" While the noise continued, Sis switched her headset to intercom. "Huntly, I can't see Brinkly for the spotlights. Can you?" "No. They're in my eyes, too." "I can from here," Wynter giggled. "She looks borderline for cardiac arrest." Cinnamon's icy giggle made the spines of the whole band shiver. "Maybe the second half will push her over that line." The crowd quieted about the time Suzie was able to talk. She switched her headset to the speakers. Her voice was broken, but she got out the words, "Thank you all, ever so much, and thank you Junior and the Twins!" Cinnamon kissed Suzie's cheek, then switched to speakers and waved for silence. "Thank you! Our original recipient is in the audience, and I ask as a special favor for personal reasons in her behalf that the spotlight operators NOT try to locate her. Many of you know her, and most of you know her family. Most of you don't know that her birth name is Mary. For that matter, most of you probably don't know the given names of anyone in her family. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is with deep respect and much love that we also dedicate our performance tonight to an excellent soprano, MISS POSSUM WATKINS!" Wynter had no trouble hearing the groans of anger from Brinkly and her mother an instant before the applause exploded. The two had their heads together, while Mister Ward looked confused. "Good," said Cinnamon's voice in the headsets. "Now I KNOW she'll do it." ~ ~ ~ Kevin Taylor rose with the others as his son wheeled Suzie to the stage front. While everyone cheered madly for her, he squatted behind Don and Carolyn, who were still seated in surprise. "Do you see the crowd's reaction to her?" he asked quietly. "Do you understand at last what I was trying to tell you in the emergency room? These people know your younger daughter better than you do. I don't know about you, but if I were in your shoes, I'd feel ashamed." He didn't wait for a reply but rose to his feet and began applauding, adding his own yell of "ATTAGIRL, SUZIE!" ~ ~ ~ Snoopy scooted next to her trembling cousin. Aunt Pebble released Possum's side to make room, and then wrapped her arm around Snoopy, too, and squeezed again. Possum wasn't crying, but she was frightened almost to tears. "Why did Cinnamon do that, Snoop?" she asked in a high, squeaky, wavering voice, her large blue eyes darting wildly about. "Because she loves you," Snoopy said, taking her cousin's hand. Possum cringed against her mother. "Then, why is everyone yelling my name at me?" "No! You misunderstood, Poss." Aunt Pebble kissed the long blonde hair on her daughter's head. "That's right. They're not yelling at you, precious. They're all saying they love you, too." ~ ~ ~ Wynter wasn't sure whether the crowd cheered the way Huntly played the main melody of 'Mariner No. 4' while dancing with Hailey and then faced the audience to play the interwoven notes, or if they just cheered Hailey and her dancing. She didn't really care as long as everyone was having a good time. Huntly stroked the final chord and wheeled his arm around in a huge circle, bringing it to rest upright and with his thumb and the index and little fingers extended in the American Sign Language symbol that said, "I Love You." Cinnamon's voice came through the headsets. "This is probably it. Weasel, you guys stand by." Ron's friends, led by Weasel Carson, pushed the two tall, black-wrapped towers toward the side curtain, then knelt and screwed a two-foot-long rod into each base near the floor. Sis switched her headset to the speakers. Jimmy added just a hint of wind noise from his synthesizer, then slowly increased his volume as she spoke. "Thank you! For our next number, my dog, Ghost, appreciates the fact that most people attach his name to the title, but actually the name is just 'RIDERS IN THE SKY!'" Sis's arm shot up and she tapped the beat. Huntly, standing on the front edge of the stage, hit the twangy introduction as Sis worked the percussion block. Somebody in the audience shouted, "YeeeeHAH!" Wynter recognized that voice. His son was, at that moment, having his crooked glasses straightened by a pretty girl in a wheelchair. Whatever Sis had expected to happen didn't occur. The song ended without incident, unless you counted the cowboy whooping and hollering from the audience. Sis switched back to intercom and said, "This has to be it," before introducing the "guest performers." Wynter waved and ran to the Clavinova's platform, feeling a rush as the crowd cheered at her name. She guessed part of that was because Sis brought up how she'd provided medical treatment to Ron and Suzie, which was really just her doing her job as a Future MD and nothing special. She sat down and checked her settings. Sure enough, one of the stops had "accidentally" changed. She did a volume check with Finnegan as Dustin Morgan held up his saxophone and waved while taking his position. Whatever had Sis worried, this wasn't it. "Wynter ready," she reported. "And finally," Cinnamon said, "Kenny Taylor," she paused as Huntly played the opening of 'Bad Moon Rising,' "Suzie Middleton..." she had to pause for the applause for Suzie while Huntly and Jimmy's dad again played 'Suzie-Q,' "and the performer whose first CD, 'Rockin' Mountains,' will be out in just over three months, MISTER TYRONE HAYES and they're gonna take you 'DANCING ON THE CEILING!'" The three entered. Tyrone got as far as "What's that happening down..." and then it happened. All the stage lights went out. "Hold it!" Sis announced over the speakers. She switched to intercom and said, "Weasel, wait for me." Then it was back to the speakers with, "Ladies and gentlemen, please wait. We are aware of the capabilities of IST, so your wait won't be a long one." Wynter still didn't know what was happening, but she was now able to make a pretty darned good guess at Cinnamon's plan. Mister Arnold took the stage and reminded everyone to come back next year during the Fourth of July weekend and bring plenty of money to vote for their favorite bands because all of the money would go to provide college "Schoolerships" for graduating regional students. He switched off his microphone when somebody dashed out of the stage left wing and spoke to him. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said in a rueful tone, "I have bad news. It seems that there's an unexpected problem with the stage lights that cannot be repaired until Monday morning. It even affects the spotlights out there among you, and we won't be able to continue." "Mister Arnold?" Sis's voice rang from the speakers. "Might I say something?" "Ladies and gentlemen, I yield the microphone to someone as talented as me and almost as good looking, Miss Brees!" A smarty pants comment from Mister Sillerman was drowned by the applause. "Thank you! Ladies and gentlemen, this is nothing. WE could play in total darkness if need be, but we know you'd prefer us to be illuminated so you can watch us perform. We expected this to happen." She paused just the right amount of time for the crowd to gasp and murmur. "I should say, we realize that this is a first-time event, which means Murphy's Law is in effect. We prepared for several eventualities. Weasel! Billy! NOW! Ladies and gentlemen, give my friends here about two minutes, and we'll be ready to continue." Weasel Carson and Billy Landry, with two helpers each, guided the two seven-foot-tall towers into place, finding the marks on the concrete stage floor with portable ultraviolet lights. They positioned the towers on the marks, aligned the rods with lines Finnegan had drawn, and removed the black cloth to reveal the lights mounted on a triangular open metal framework. "Ladies and gentlemen, McKeown's Hardware generously provided the materials for our light towers, and Finnegan Burke designed AND constructed them THIS MORNING! Our thanks to both. Oh! Mister Burke? Thank you, too, and you can have your garage back now." While the audience laughed, the helpers plugged the transformers' power cords into 220-volt outlets and reported ready to Finnegan. The lights came on and needed no more adjusting than the regular stage lights did for each new act, if that much. Wynter could no longer see Brinkly, but the girl had looked ready to perform vivisections when she recognized the light towers. Her mother looked to be in at least that foul a mood. Mister Ward was off to the side, talking to some of the shell technicians and looking very, very displeased. Sis started the whole routine from the beginning. Wynter gasped when she realized that Finnegan had also included small spotlights that followed Tyrone, Suzie, and Kenny across the stage, just like the sound system moved their voices and footsteps across the stage. Wynter sure was happy that the rest of the song went without incident. She was especially happy that she didn't have to find out how Suzie planned to scream at the audience from her wheelchair. ~ ~ ~ By the second curtain call the separate cries of "Encore!" had melded into a chant. Cinnamon almost laughed with glee. On the third curtain call, Junior Arnold followed them out. "I think they want more!" he shouted. The crowd agreed with him. "Can you play us another one?" Huntly spoke up first. "We're Junior and the Twins! We can do anything to make OUR audience happy!" Almost lost among the screams, cheers, and applause was some wag shouting, "Then have Hailey and Cinnamon take it off!" "We're SUPPOSED to be just a SURF band," Cinnamon added. "We've been too busy playing EVERYTHING BUT surf. Would you like to hear a surf tune?" That should show the obnoxious little bitch something about the flexibility of the Twins. She motioned everyone to their places, which meant that non-Twins performers waved and exited stage left. Again the audience went wild, but they'd not get their desired drum solo on this one, either. "Thank you! Ladies and gentlemen, 'DIAMOND HEAD!'" Now that the music was more in Hailey's element, she danced with increased vigor as close to the stage edge as she could go without leaving the lights. Cinnamon thought Cuz had Velcro and superglue keeping the grass skirt on her hips. The crowd, especially the males, definitely ate it up. Again she teased the audience by responding to the cries for another encore with 'Zephyr,' which she introduced while Jimmy again played wind sounds in the background. Her irrepressible smile grew as Huntly and Sis again played to each other as if they had the stage, if not the world, to themselves, first echoing each other, then handing off the lead in mid-measure while the other played counterpoint. She could see Huntly's grin through the back of his head. Then Wynter rose to her feet and danced with Huntly, separated by the guitar and the Clavinova. That was when she realized that the audience was up and dancing on the grass. She caught LaMarcus's eye and indicated his hand with a twisting bob of her head. He understood and nodded that he could keep going. Jimmy's dad gave her the same reply. "Back to three and repeat," she said, extending the song for the dancers. The audience went wild at the end, so she had everyone exit, making the "I Love You" signs over their heads, and then do curtain calls before asking, "Another one? Are you sure? Are you really, really sure?" She pressurized the stick launchers while the others changed their settings. When everyone was in position she announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, we've added something new to our act tonight, something created by the same electrical and mechanical genius who provided us with the WORKING lights, Finnegan Burke!" Clearly the crowd didn't know yet what they were applauding. They just as clearly didn't care. "Some of you will be getting souvenirs of tonight's performance by Junior and the Twins during this one. Those of you down front, you'd better pay attention or you'll be sorry! Ladies and gentlemen, our final number, 'CARAVAN!'" ~ ~ ~ Wynter's heart felt too big for her chest when she saw the surprised response to Cinnamon's drumstick launcher and to the souvenir sticks Sis threw into the audience. Suzie squeezed her left hand and Alyssa squeezed her right as they watched from the wings. "Little Momma just made the audience forget there were any other acts today," Tyrone said as he squeezed Shamisa's waist. Dustin agreed and squeezed Monique's. Duck and Derek said nothing and just stared, open-mouthed, not believing their predictions of failure could be so totally wrong. "Okay, Kenny," Cinnamon said, and then threw the stick in her right hand into the wings. It flew overhead past Kenny, but it was supposed to. Kenny was already holding a souvenir stick in his left hand. He gave Suzie's hand a squeeze with his right and dashed from the wings to the front of the stage. Mister Ward was watching him. Kenny pointed at the man and then tossed the stick to him. Mister Ward read the stick and looked up again. Kenny flipped him a jaunty salute and dashed back into the wings as his wife snatched the stick out of his hands. Mrs. Ward's face exploded in fury. She gave the stick to Brinkly, who made her mother's face look happy by comparison. The girl grasped an end of the stick in each hand and slammed it onto the arm of her chair. Mister Ward looked shocked as she threw the pieces aside. "This is a great idea!" Mister Arnold said as he stopped beside Alyssa and read aloud the inscription on the stick that had sailed overhead. "'IST Wizard Basin Concert Shell Dedication, August 21, 2004. Compliments of Junior and the Twins.' No wonder those two were so upset. They lost to Cinnamon, everything to nothing." Mister Arnold might act like the class clown, but he wasn't dumb. He knew what was going on. "Can I see that?" asked a familiar voice behind them. Mister Arnold handed the stick to Guy Malone. "So THAT'S what she was up to. Man, I wish I'd been smart enough to think of it, not to mention that drumstick gun, or whatever she calls it." "What are you doing up here?" Kenny asked. His tone said the question was simple curiosity. "This concert isn't over yet," he said. "The band has a final surprise arranged." He ignored Kenny's next question and began talking to Mister Arnold. "You know anything about this?" Kenny asked Wynter. Wynter looked down at Suzie. "Anyone say something about this to you?" "Nobody said anything to me," Suzie said. "But then nobody said anything about dedicating the performance, either." She gave Kenny a cross look as phony as snake oil and patent medicine. Wynter made her face look puzzled. "Looks like we're about to find out. This is the end." The band ran into the wings with everyone holding up both hands in the "I Love You" sign. Sis seemed surprised to see Guy, but gave him a big grin and then led the Twins back onto the stage again. They returned to even louder cheers and applause. This time Cinnamon asked everyone to make a curtain call. Wynter ran out holding Jimmy's hand while Kenny pushed Suzie's chair. When Cinnamon turned to lead them off again, she was stopped by Mr. Arnold and Guy, who ran out and held their hands up to stop them. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IF I MAY HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE!" Mister Arnold said, as Guy motioned for the crowd to be quiet and sit. "THE CONCERT IS _NOT_ OVER! WE HAVE ONE FINAL ACT!" Cinnamon frowned at Guy and then whirled around to the grinning Huntly. Her lights had come on. "You shithead!" Sis growled as Jimmy squeezed Wynter's hand and chuckled. Huntly shrugged. "It's because I love you, bitch." He hugged and kissed her as Mister Arnold handed the microphone to Guy. "Ladies and gentlemen, please!" Guy said. He took Cinnamon's hand, peeled her away from Huntly, and led her to the front of the stage, just inside the lights. As he did that, Jimmy squeezed Wynter's hand again and tugged. They returned to their keyboards. Huntly, LaMarcus, and Mister McCauley also returned to their instruments, and that caused the crowd to settle. Tyrone and Mister Arnold led the rest of the people off the stage. Guy wrapped his arm around Cinnamon's shoulders and snugged her close. "Thank you," he said. "I know at least one member of the audience is surprised to see me up here now. Well, I'm here for two reasons. One is public: I'm here to honor the best drummer in this town, in these mountains, in fact, in the whole state. Aw, heck, probably the best in the WHOLE COUNTRY!" He gave the little redhead's shoulders a big squeeze as the crowd thundered agreement. Wynter rechecked her sound with Finnegan, then glanced at Jimmy. He grinned at her. He'd insisted that they could surprise Sis twice, and he'd been right. She lost the bet and now owed him an afternoon at the big flat rock and another flute recital. It was one bet that she was exceptionally happy to lose. When the noise dropped, Guy lifted the microphone. "The other reason is intensely personal. I know many of you expected to see Maroon Bells play, but in order to keep me off this stage..." Cinnamon grabbed his arm and yanked the microphone down. "Guy, NO!" she said, her words blasting through the speakers. She motioned for him to bend down and whispered in his ear. He looked at her in silence for a moment. The audience got so quiet that Wynter looked to see if everyone had gone home. Guy finally nodded. "To keep me off this stage, ONE OF THE OTHER ACTS arranged for the Bells to be excluded. The same act who, I'm convinced, arranged for Chuck Randolph of IST Entertainment to impersonate an IST Security employee in a failed attempt to gain entry to the tent of Junior and the Twins, and who also arranged for the 'malfunction' that affected the stage lighting. Go ahead, Billy!" The stage lights suddenly came on. An angry murmur began in the audience. "On second thought, shut them off again. We'd prefer to perform with Finnegan's lighting. We can't trust IST, but we can always trust Finnegan, and his lighting is much better anyway. DON'T YOU AGREE?" While the audience applauded, Sis tried to stop Guy's comments. He ignored her. "But, that's now history," Guy said. "YOU want to be ENTERTAINED! We're going to play for you now a song written by the people behind me as a birthday present to honor the lovely person beside me! A person whose drumsticks I'm not worthy to hold, but who has selflessly been giving me lessons so that I might become a better drummer, even though she thought we'd be competing tonight! A person who anticipated tonight's problems and decided that Junior and the Twins would act in a professional manner and win on talent! A person who's going to make sure that contraption back there is TURNED OFF so that I don't get hit in the face with flying drumsticks!" The lights kept Wynter from seeing the Wards while Guy escorted Cinnamon to a spot between the drums and Huntly, but the people at stage left had no trouble. Kenny and Dustin pointed toward the Wards. All, including Mister Arnold and Billy Landry, were talking to each other. Sis gave Guy her headset and explained the switch positions. He briefly put it in the speaker position. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "'CINNAMON STICKS!'" Wynter wondered if it was clinically possible for Sis to run out of tears before the song ended. It was a LONG solo. ~ ~ ~ Angie glanced at the clock as Richard turned off the radio. Junior Arnold had called everyone at eleven and alerted them to listen to the noon news. Jimmy wouldn't call for another ten minutes because he never interrupted lunch unless it was very important. He wouldn't consider the news to be so important that he'd telephone, but since he lived only a block away, he had plenty of time to appear at the door when the time was up. "So," Richard said as he again sat down at the table. "Is it sincere?" Wynter pursed her lips and pushed them to one side in thought. "Maybe," she said. "But maybe he just fired those people to protect Brinkly and his wife." Angie nodded agreement. "I think he was sincere when he apologized to everyone after the concert and promised to look into things, and from what Wynter said she saw, I think he wasn't aware of what happened, but I also think he did that to cover his own butt and make IST look good." "Yes," Wynter said with an emphatic nod as she waved her fork over her salad. "Cinnamon thinks he's mostly upset because they made IST look bad, especially with the lights. Maybe he fired them for not being more careful." Angie grinned at her daughter. "Or as Suzie put it, for being a bunch of stupid dolts." As she expected, Jimmy agreed with Wynter when he appeared nine minutes later. When Wynter asked Jimmy to wait while she cleared the table, Angie stopped her. "This is your last Monday before school starts. You and Dragon take Jimmy for your walk as planned before anyone else shows up. Your father just volunteered to clean up instead." She kissed Wynter and Jimmy goodbye, gave Dragon a pat on the head, and watched them leave with Wynter's flute. "Why are you looking so grumpy?" Richard shook his head. "_I_ volunteered to clean up the kitchen?" She put her hands on his shoulders. "Well, I have to spend tomorrow night in Denver all by myself. I have about five more minutes of work to do in my office," she removed her hands to unfasten her shorts, "and then I'm through for today. I just thought that since we had the house to ourselves..." Richard rose and pushed her through the door. "Why are you standing around in here when you have work to do, woman? Get back to your office and get busy while I spiff this place up!" She kissed him. "Do you think you can find me after you're done in here?" "I'm a geological engineer and the father of Wynter King, Future MD. I can do anything." "Hmmm." She dropped her shorts and stepped out of them. "I'll leave a trail, just in case." ~ ~ ~ Rick Ward switched off the radio, shoved two fingers through the loop of his necktie, and pulled to loosen it. He paced between opposite ends of his living room, trying to get his fury under control. He loved both his wife and his daughter, but he was ready to strangle both of them. He turned, paced to the window, and stared out. "Rick..." He whirled and shoved a forefinger at his wife. "Not one word out of either of you," he said in icy fury. He shoved his hands into his pockets. They congealed into fists as he marched to the coffee table side opposite them. He nodded at the paper rather than risk removing a hand to point. "Did you read what that reporter said about the concert? I think he tried to be fair, but it reads as if IST was behind the sabotage to that girl's act. And thanks to you, I guess it was." "Rick..." "QUIET!" He struggled with his temper as Lynne flinched. "Because of you I had to fire Chuck Randolph. He's one of the better employees I had working for me." Lynne bolted upright. "Rick, I promised that nothing would happen to him!" "Then YOU find him another job. You had no authority to speak for me, though you certainly made it sound like it to him. God knows what will happen if he sues. He might win if he can find a sympathetic jury, and he very well may. I'm... well, I'll get to that in a minute. "I HAD to fire him to cover my own ass because not doing so implied collusion. And it's a damned good thing I did because I was in the boss's office five minutes later. I spent an hour with him and then nearly TWO HOURS on a conference call with Beaufort. When the top dog calls from New Haven, it's either very good or very bad. It WASN'T GOOD!" One hand flew out of his pocket and held up a thumb and forefinger pinched together. "I came THIS close to being demoted or fired myself, thanks to you. He made it clear that I'm on probation, and YOU, my dear, are banned from Wizard Basin for three months. Not even the parking lot." Lynne bristled. "He has no right..." "He has EVERY right because I suggested that as a condition of KEEPING MY JOB! And if I were you, I'd stay away from the concert shell as well, although it's about to be closed until spring while the contractor makes some suddenly necessary changes before the snow starts." Brinkly sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Daddy, it's my fault." "Dry up the crocodile tears, honey. You instigated, I'm sure, but your mother isn't fourteen and is SUPPOSED to know better. I'll get to you in a minute. No, I'll get to you now." He picked up the paper and read from Sillerman's column, "Confidential sources state that the unfortunate events occurring to Junior and the Twins are part of a systematic attack by some members of IST against the band as well as other members of the community." He threw the paper to the coffee table. "Who the hell else have you two pulled stunts on, and WHY? Now I understand why Brinkly's introduction got such a cold reception. It wasn't because she was an 'outsider.' Bands from all over received warm receptions. Other members of the Brink..." He'd been so angry that he'd missed the connection. Things suddenly snapped into place. His voice lowered into an angry, threatening growl. "That explains the horseshit in the driveway and all the other things that have been going wrong. You've turned half this town against us. Now, what the hell did you do, and I mean ALL of it." ~ ~ ~ Cinnamon assured Possum that Mister Ward's apology was genuine, wished her a good afternoon, and hung up the phone. She put one elbow on her desk and supported her pointed chin with her hand. Perhaps she'd told Possum the truth. The apology he'd given her fifteen minutes earlier had sounded far more genuine than the one he'd given her after the performance. More, but not a hundred percent genuine. But maybe she was reading too much into his tone of desperation. ~ ~ ~ "Hold it, buster!" Cinnamon said, backhanding her father's arm. "If this is supposed to be a family event, then Hailey and I want our sister here with us." She marched away from the bow of the new boat, grabbed Wynter's hand, and pulled her away from her parents and Jimmy to stand with Daddy, Rosita, Hailey, and herself. "Well, get on with it! We want to go for a ride!" Her father blinked and then turned a sorrowful face to the crowd. "I wish to state for the record that I am available for adoption, free to any good home where the number of males outnumbers..." "NOW!" Cinnamon giggled because Wynter had joined in that time. She hugged her adopted sister and then fought to keep her glee in check. Sis didn't tell her about the surprise real last act at the concert, huh? Well, Sis was about to get a surprise of her own. Her father sighed. "I sincerely appreciate your being here, especially since this is the last day before school begins. You know that I had to replace the 'Summer Breeze' because some woman driver..." "HEY!" "Because it was lost in an unfortunate incident that resulted in the wounding of two of you here today. The two of you whose actions in a dangerous situation were truly heroic." He bowed to Suzie and Ron. "Since the lake here is slightly smaller than the Atlantic Ocean, we've replaced the 'Summer Breeze' with a slightly smaller craft. We are here today to christen the new boat, officially bestowing its name." Rosita handed the specially-crafted champagne christening bottle to Wynter, who gasped at the honor. Hailey showed Wynter where to strike and explained that the bottle was designed to break easily without leaving a two- foot hole in the bow of the boat. As her father reached the end of his short speech, Cinnamon picked up the lines that would remove the covers over the painted name. She handed one to Rosita. Her father checked first to see if everyone was ready. "As my lovely niece said when we placed the order, there's only one name suitable for the 'Summer Breeze's' replacement. I think you'll agree that she was absolutely right. We christen this boat," he paused as Cuz had Wynter swing the bottle, then said the name just before the instant of impact. ~ ~ ~ Wynter had no idea what Doctor Breeze was going to name the new boat. She was sure that Sis One knew, but not Sis Two. Hailey had been far more subdued since the wreck, but that could be a temporary syndrome, and she might return to speaking without thinking at any moment. Therefore the family had kept the name secret from her. She managed not to shriek like a young girl when the fragile bottle exploded and thus heard Doctor Brees finish with "the 'Winter Breeze.'" She thought it made sense to replace "Summer" with "Winter" because there sure was a lot more of the second season that the first one up here in the mountains. Snow would probably fall in the next two or three weeks. She dropped the bottle's neck in the bucket by her feet and stepped back to check out the style of the name's now-exposed painted script. Mister Novello, the best graphic artist in town, had painted it. He was famous for his designs, ranging from really and truly beautiful to very clever and witty. Boat owners from Denver and Salt Lake City brought their watercraft for him to letter their names. Occasionally he had customers from even farther away. _It must be really well done_, she thought as she turned to look, _because of the way everyone, and especially Huntly and Jimmy, are whooping it up._ Her hands flew to her mouth, and this time she did shriek as she realized that it wasn't 'Winter Breeze' but 'Wynter Breeze.' Hands still over her mouth she half- turned to face Cinnamon's dad. He smiled the way she'd seen him smile at Cinnamon. He joined both of Wynter's sisters and his Future Wife in a group hug around her as she cried like Cinnamon during the 'Cinnamon Sticks' performance. He kissed the top of her head and announced, "We named it after a member of the family." ~ ~ ~ Wynter relaxed and let her arms float in the hot bubbling water. The first day of school had been only a half-day, and all her summer projects were done, so she was free to relax all afternoon. About the only think she could think of that was more relaxing involved Jimmy, but he was going somewhere with his mother all afternoon. Well, she could also relax with her father, of course. She'd been ignoring him lately. Well, not ignoring, exactly, but not giving him all the attention that said she loved him with all her heart. "Am I interrupting?" She jumped and gasped. She hadn't heard him enter because of the sound of the pumps and the churning water. "I was just thinking about you. You're never an interruption." "Not even the day I barged in on you and Jimmy?" She grinned. "Well, maybe you're never an interruption except once. Are you getting in?" He was dressed in his shorts and tee shirt and rubber flip-flops. "Actually I just came down for some printer paper and stuff from the storage closet." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I thought that as long as I was down here, I should see if my favorite doctor needed anything." "Future MD," she corrected. "That may be, but I trust you more than I trust anyone in that hospital, including Kevin." She knew he really and truly meant that, and her heart suddenly felt too big for her chest. She rose to her feet. "Want to get in for a little while?" she asked. He gave her a surprised look. "Well, I was just... Well, this report... Well, yeah, it can wait. Sure. I can use a break." He started undressing. "Where's Mother?" He pulled off his tee shirt and pointed to the phone. Mother's office line was lit. "I heard her as I was coming down the stairs. Turn off the pumps and you can hear her, too. Her colorful names and phrases say she's on the phone with Pete, because they're not the same ones she uses with Aunt Diane. Sounded like it might be a 'You're flying to Europe in fifteen minutes' type of situation, so I didn't interrupt because I didn't want to be in throwing range of small heavy objects." Wynter felt very sad for Mother. Her boss was what she had to put up with so that she could work out of the house most of the week, but that sure didn't make it any easier for her. Whether it was a trip or not, Mother would suffer a migraine trigger if she'd been arguing with her boss for this long. "Should I ask Cinnamon if I can stay at her house tonight so she can have some quiet?" "I think she'd be happier to have her favorite daughter at home with her. She might even prefer you asking her other daughters to spend the night here." Wynter pursed her lips and pushed them to one side in thought. "Maybe. We'll see how she is in an hour or so. Then I'll... Hey! You haven't showered first!" He stepped into the tub. "I'm going to drain and clean it tomorrow anyway," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "Oh. Well, sit down and I'll massage your shoulders." "How about you sit in my lap and tell me you love me," he said. _Uh oh!_ She suddenly felt very sorry for him. "You've been having a bad day, too, haven't you?" He sat down, and she straddled his legs, facing him. "The USGS," he said, then stopped and forced the angry tone out of his voice, "didn't like my report. It was too short. So, I'm going to pad it with another eight or ten pages of drivel having nothing to do with the problem. They'll count the pages and be happy, even though it doesn't say one more word about the real problem than what they already have in their hands. Honey, promise me that whenever you run a hospital you'll pay attention to the important words rather than the number of total words." "I promise," she said and made an 'X' over her heart with her right index finger. She really and truly meant it. "You have just made my day better," he said. After she gave him a nose-and-lips kiss he amended that to, "You have just made this my best day this week." "Promise?" He crossed his own heart. "Promise." "Well," she said, running her hand down his cheek, down his neck, down his scarred chest, into the water, and farther down, "how'd you like to try for the best day this month?" Five minutes later she had one foot on a seat and the other on the floor of the tub, her forehead pressed against the wall as he made love to her from behind. She hoped this showed him how she loved him with all her heart and would cause him to forgive her for being distracted recently. The thought was enough: her eyes squeezed shut, the blood hammered in her head, and she moaned in orgasm as he slammed harder and faster into her, trying to make her pleasure even better. They were so involved with each other that they didn't notice the jingle of Dragon's dog tags when he rose and quickly shook everything into place before racing out of the room. After she came down from the pleasure high, he grabbed her around the waist, lifted, and put her on her knees on the reclining seat. He adjusted his feet for the best fit and maneuvering, then slammed in and out of her twice as fast. She was sure she came twice as hard this time, and then, as the world came into focus, daddy began short stroking. He grabbed her hips, plunged as deep into her as he could go, and erupted. His body quivered as opposing muscle groups competed. He pressed his head between her shoulders as her own hung down to rest on the edge of the hot tub and together they gasped in the hot, steamy air. "UH OH!" said a familiar voice. Frozen in the doorway, hand on Dragon's head, eyes wide and mouth even wider, stood Jimmy. He stepped back into the hallway, turned and vanished while Wynter found her voice. "JIMMY! WAIT FOR ME IN THE PARTY ROOM!" she shouted as her father squirted out of her vagina. Her pussy. Her split. Her... "Daddy, let go!" she said, wrenching herself from his grasp. He collapsed back onto a seat in very much the same way Jimmy had done the day he and Daddy had been in opposite roles. She jumped out of the tub and rushed from the room, not wasting the time necessary to reach for a towel. If Jimmy had gone upstairs she had to catch him before he left the house! She raced down the hall on wet, slippery feet, skidding at the left turn into the party room. She bounced off the utility room wall and rushed into the party room, angling toward the stair. "Over here," he said in a quiet voice. She skidded to a halt and turned around. He sat in a chair in the far corner, elbows on his knees and head face- down in his hands. "Your mom thought you were down here alone," he said almost too softly to be heard. She slowly walked to within a foot of him and stood there, searching for words. She didn't know what to do with her hands, so she clasped them behind her butt and rubbed the top of her right foot against her left Achilles tendon. "Um..." _This wasn't how it was supposed to happen!_ "Jimmy, I guess it's time we finally had a little talk." Copyright Russell Hoisington 2007 ************************************************************ Wynter's adventures will continue in "Wynter & Brinkly" ************************************************************ We who write the stories you like to read have received, and continue to receive, a great amount of support from the people here at ASSTR (The Alt Sex Stories Text Repository). ASSTR's major service is the archiving of our stories to make them available to you, the readers. ASSTR is a non-profit organization and is staffed entirely by volunteers. This operation is costly, and its only source of operating income is from donations. I ask that you consider donating if you have enjoyed my stories. Your donation will help insure they remain available for all to read at no cost. You can learn more about donating, anonymously or otherwise, at this link: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/donations.html -- Russell Hoisington State of Confusion Stories archived at http://www.storiesonline.net -- Click for free info on a new career with 150K/ year potential http://tagline.hushmail.com/fc/Ioyw6h4dDUzZxUdWseMGdvbpxqrDj8TB67JLLOZ9HFJSAp3foFmvMD/ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+