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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Wynter and Hailey Pt 2  2/2 {Hoisington} (MF Mf mf bf Mg mg bg oral ped cons rom)
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Date: Tue, 28 Feb 2012 17:10:01 -0500
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                       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.

************************************************************

                       WYNTER & HAILEY
                           Part Two

                      Russell Hoisington

                            Twelve

[continued from part 1 of 2]

                            ~ ~ ~

      Wynter had just begun massaging Huntly's knee when
the intercom announced a phone call for Cinnamon.  She
thought Mrs. Vasquez sounded awfully excited, so it sure
must be something good.  She mentioned that to Huntly after
the little redhead had climbed out of the tub, grabbed a
bath sheet, and padded to the phone in the card room.  She
had to use that phone because the workmen had tiled over
the phone outlet in the hot tub room and it hadn't been
uncovered yet.

      "Has to be good news.  Maybe it's about the wedding,"
Huntly suggested.  "Maybe it's Hailey's parents saying they
can be here."

      Wynter pursed her lips and pushed them to one side.
"If it's Hailey's parents, they'd want to talk to her
first, wouldn't they?"

      Huntly conceded the point when Hailey agreed, but he
didn't seem too sure that they were right.  But Hailey's
parents weren't like the rest of Cinnamon's birth mother's
family.  Surely they'd want to talk...

      Cinnamon's squeal of delight echoed into the room.
Wynter looked up into Huntly's eyes.  "It's good!" they
said together.  She glanced at Jimmy and caught his grin-
and-nod.

      Jimmy had moved to the seat beside Megan's, who sat
next to Huntly.  That had made her nervous at first, but
Jimmy began talking to her in a conversational tone about
several topics, easing her anxiety disorder.  Megan should
be okay if Hailey and Kenny could keep their hormones in
check.  So far, so good, she thought.  No doubt that was
due in part to Finnegan, who looked like he was ready to
jump between the pair and physically separate them if
necessary.

      Wynter sat back after she finished.  Jimmy scooted
beside her and took her hand while Huntly sighed and took
Megan's.  She was thrilled to note how Megan had relaxed
thanks to Jimmy, though Megan had also made sure that she
stayed neck-deep in the water.  And, she conceded, it was
also thanks to the restraint Finnegan imposed on the two
hyperactive hormone generators.

      Cinnamon bounced back into the room and tossed her
towel aside.  Wynter thought for a moment that she was
going to dive into the hot tub.  Sis grabbed Finnegan and
gave him a big kiss, then repeated it with Huntly.  Megan,
who was technically Huntly's date, didn't seem to mind,
perhaps because she was caught up in Cinnamon's excitement.

      When Sis unexpectedly grabbed Kenny and kissed him,
too, Wynter squeezed Jimmy's hand.  He looked at her and
nodded his understanding that he would be next.  She
couldn't decide whether Jimmy's eyes held fear,
resignation, or shared excitement with Sis.  Maybe it was
all three.

      Instead of standing and kissing Jimmy the way she'd
done the others, she straddled his legs and sat down,
locking her arms around his neck.  Wynter gently pushed
Jimmy's hand toward the little redhead's back.  As always,
Jimmy understood her silent command.  After a moment's
hesitation he released her hand and wrapped his arms around
Sis.  Apparently Jimmy was no more surprised than Wynter
when Cinnamon orgasmed.

      Wynter's eyes flicked to Huntly, then the others.
Only Huntly and Hailey, who gave her subtle nods--Huntly's
accompanied by a wink--realized what had happened.
Cinnamon needed a few seconds to recover.  She used the
excuse of giving Jimmy an intimate hug to whisper in his
ear.  Wynter read the "Thanks" on her lips.  Wynter gave
Jimmy a nod of reassurance that he'd done the right thing.

      Cinnamon rose, giggled, and said, "Band practice at
Jimmy's tonight.  Six-thirty.  That includes you," she said
with a nod at both Finnegan and Kenny, "and you, Sis.
Megan, can you be there, too?"

      Megan looked first surprised and then honored.
"Well, sure.  I think so.  Why?"

      The answer was a mere grin.

      "Cinnamon," Jimmy said in an anxious voice, "I'm not
sure Dad can make it tonight."

      Sis's face was in danger of a smile-induced rupture
as her grin pushed her cheeks up, narrowing her sparkling
eyes to slits.  "I called him.  He said he could change his
plans.  He picked the start time."

      While the rest tried to get Sis to answer questions
and give explanations, Wynter reasoned that she had enough
symptoms.  She put on her diagnosis cap.

      Sis wanted her there.  She hadn't actually said
"Junior and the Twins," nor had she said "surf band" or
"new age band."  Finnegan's presence meant something to do
with sound, which indicated a performance.  _Why Kenny and
Megan, though?  The only...._

      "So," she said in her best professional medical
voice.  Sis turned and gave her an expectant look.  Sis had
presumed that she would work it out.  Wynter's heart
swelled in her chest as she squeezed Jimmy's hand and
asked, "Did he bring back the bass player, too?

                            ~ ~ ~

      Suzie's eyes filled with tears as she read Cinnamon's
message.  She wiped them with her fingers and dried those
on her nightie.  She knew that her friend was sincere when
she said that she wished Suzie could be there and said how
much she would be missed.  Despite being betrayed by that
stupid dolt, this was just the best year ever in her life!

      Suzie had thought that nothing would ever make her
want to leave swim camp, but right there it was on
Jennifer's computer screen.  She'd never felt more loved
than EVER at this moment!  Even when she'd been with...
HIM... before he betrayed her.  Even when Cinnamon and
Wynter found her dyslexia and helped her with that.  Even
when Josh kissed her good night after their afternoon and
evening together, though their time had been shared with
his parents and Lori.  But sharing their day with his
parents and sister had felt good, too.

      Her fingers moved on the laptop's keyboard.  She
typed out her regrets that she couldn't be there with them
tonight and thanked Cinnamon for being such a good friend
and thinking about her.  She tapped her chin with a finger
for a few moments, then grinned and added, 'You mihgt want
to have Magen practise screeming, just incase.'

      Her finger paused above the 'Send' button.
Cinnamon's letter was ever so wonderful.  She felt
embarrassed by sending back a reply that, while heartfelt,
was probably full of mistakes.  She sat back in her chair
and waited for Jennifer to return from the bathroom.

      "Can I beg a favor?" she asked when her roommate
entered.

      Jennifer smiled as she put her toothbrush and
toothpaste on her shelf.  "Sure.  What?"

      She asked Jennifer to 'fix' her letter so that it
would be a nice reply to Cinnamon.  She didn't want her
dyslexia to create an unworthy reply.  Jennifer agreed,
just like a big sister would do.  After Jennifer fixed it,
explaining what she was changing and why, Suzie sent it.

      "I'll make you a deal," Jennifer said, brushing back
a lock of blondish-red hair dangling in Suzie's eyes.  She
gave Suzie a warm, loving smile.  "You keep working hard at
improving your condition, and I'll help you like this
whenever I can.  Except for doing your homework, of course."

      This time the tears didn't stay in her eyes.  She
hugged Jennifer and tried to express her relief.

      "It's okay, Suzie," Jennifer said, gently stroking
Suzie's back.  "It's my honor and privilege to help.
Somebody else helped me like that with my dyslexia problem,
too."



Nineteen

      Because of the long winters and short summers high in
the mountains, the majority of the townspeople spent the
Fourth of July at outdoor picnics.  Many went to the picnic
areas on Rainbow Peninsula, but most went to Otter Park,
where the early birds got tables and the rest sat on
blankets spread on the grass.  Since Jimmy had to be at the
park early for the set-up, he had staked out a large table
for his family, Wynter's, and Cinnamon's near the park's
gazebo.  Huntly had marked the adjacent table for his
family, the Reeds, and the Erlands.  The Hayes family was
large enough to occupy its own table, as did the Watkins
clan.  The Taylors clustered with some other doctors, while
Suzie's parents were conspicuous by their absence.

      Scattered clouds cruised the crisp blue sky, but that
was better than the rain clouds that had been predicted as
recently as three days earlier.  Jimmy saw Wynter point
toward the concrete formwork of the concert shell and say
something to Cinnamon, but her words were drowned out by
Hailey, sitting at the end next to Cinnamon, shouting
something to Jimmy's mother at the opposite corner of the
table.

      Jimmy looked forward to the completion of the concert
shell by International Ski and Trail, which would then
donate it to the town.  Cinnamon wanted Junior and the
Twins to participate in the various concerts and band
contests to be held there, and Jimmy was sure that Cinnamon
could get whatever she wanted even without her father's
community clout.  The shell's backstage area would allow
bands to set up early on wheeled platforms, like Cinnamon
used for her drum kit in the school gym performances, and
guards would keep people away until performance time.

      The problem with using the gazebo was that you had to
set up either early that morning or just before your
performance.  The latter was okay with smaller bands,
especially those with minimal drum kits.  Set up for Junior
and the Twins required considerably longer since they used
Cinnamon's practice kit, plus the sound ran through a mixer
operated by Finnegan Burke.  Which meant that they had to
set up early, even though they were the closing act.

      The sole good thing was that they were one of only
two full bands performing.  The other band was Maroon
Bells, a group of students from the high school, who had a
very basic drum kit, even though it featured the high
school's star drummer.  The Bells needed minimal area and
could set up and tear down quickly, so The Twins didn't
have to delay set-up to make room for anyone else.  The
other acts besides Maroon Bells were solos, a duo, and two
trios, none of whom had drums or keyboards.

      Jimmy wasn't sure how that had worked out.  He'd have
suspected Cinnamon's involvement, but the little redhead,
while efficient, couldn't work miracles.  Well, he didn't
think she could work them.

      A soft, "Oh, NO!" from Wynter interrupted his
reverie.  She was looking across the table at her father
with a look of... well, if it had been anyone else but
Wynter, he'd have called it horror.  Mister King was
holding a jar of pickle slices over his plate and looking
at it with his eyes unfocused, they way he himself
sometimes looked beyond things when they triggered memories.

      Mister King smiled the way people do when they
suddenly remember past events, causing Wynter to sag.  He
gave his daughter a mischievous grin. "Wynnie wanna tickle?"

      "DADDY!"

      Jimmy had forgotten just how deeply red Wynter could
get when she blushed because he hadn't seen her that
embarrassed in what seemed like years.  Mister King's voice
was baby talk.  _Wynter called herself "Wynnie" when she
was learning to talk.  I already knew that.  He's saying
she also called pickles "tickles"?  So what?_

      Mrs. King glanced at Wynter and then glared at her
husband.  "Richard..."

      "Jimmy," he said, ignoring both of them, "did I ever
tell you that Wynter used to call these 'tickles'?"

      Jimmy shook his head and took Wynter's hand.  "No,
sir.  But that's not unusual when you're learning to talk.
I used to call spaghetti 'pasghetti.'"  He thought that
admission might help, but Wynter cringed more.  _Did I make
things worse?  HOW?_

      Mister King ignored his wife's continued warnings to
shut up.  "Wynter loved bread and butter pickle slices even
more when she was two or three years old.  We'd sit down to
eat and she'd say, 'Wynnie wanna tickle!'  One day we gave
her one, and then another, but she kept saying 'Wynnie
wanna TICKLE!' in a super-demanding voice, even though she
had two on her plate.  We kept trying to get her to eat the
ones she had."

      Wynter released Jimmy's hand and buried her glowing
red face in both of hers.  His now-free hand slid around
her back to her other arm and pulled her against his side
as he tried to comprehend her embarrassment.

      "We learned the hard way that she was trying to say
'tinkle' and not 'pickle.'  She was in training pants
instead of a diaper.  I tell you, that was one lunch we
never... OW!"

      The way he yelped and jumped a second time indicated
that Mrs. King had kicked him after punching his arm.
"What did I do?"

      "MEN!"

      Jimmy thought it was amusing the way Cinnamon and
Hailey had spoken in unison with Mrs. King, but he knew
better than to laugh.  Besides, if he did he might get his
own dad to reminiscing, and he REALLY didn't want that.

      At a three-to-one disadvantage, Mister King quickly
gave up.  Jimmy knew that Wynter loved her father even more
than she loved him, which was, of course, as it should be,
but the arctic sound of her voice accepting his apology ran
shivers down his spine.  He never wanted to upset her that
much and hear her use THAT tone directed at him.  That day
when she was sick had been more than bad enough.  This time
her voice was twice as cold as that day's voice had been hot.

                            ~ ~ ~

      "He is, like, SO full of it!" Hailey went as she
reached around behind her for her glass, then leaned back
against the table top again and watched the emcee's antics
at the gazebo.  "He is SO the worst, more than Uncle Mitch
and Huntly combined."  She crossed her ankles, frowned, and
sucked lemonade through the straw.

      "Maybe," went Rosita behind her, getting a gripe from
Uncle Mitch.  "But he's not as he appears.  His
'spontaneous' comments have been rehearsed for a week at
least."

      Cuz, sitting between Hailey and Wynter, turned to
look over her shoulder at Rosita and went, "I've been a
good influence on you.  That was my estimate, too."

      "Not really," went Rosita.  "We did community theater
when he was the class clown in high school class, back
before I married Pete.  We became good friends.  He told me
then.  I hadn't told anyone else until now, but I knew
you'd realize that for yourself sooner or later."

      Cuz giggled and then went, "Hailey, you saw him at
the hospital.  He was a cut-up there, too, but he was all
professional when he interviewed you and the rest of us.
Remember how he was when he saw that asking about the dead
guy upset you?  Remember how Huntly switches from shithead
to best friend when he needs to?  It's the same act."

      "I guess."  This was a holiday and a picnic.  She
didn't need Cuz lecturing her again.  She'd rather hear
Wynter lecture on... whatev'.  Treating diarrhea.  Curing
leprosy.  Discovering a new disease in somebody and naming
it after him.  She glanced up at a greeting from Phil Jones
and responded with a coy smile, a wink, and a tracing of
one fingertip up the inner side of her thigh.

      Where was she?  Oh, yeah.  Wynter was, like,
discovering "Phillitosis."  Even that would be better than
another of Cuz's lectures today.  She'd rather listen to
that class clown who was dressed like a circus clown, with
the chartreuse jacket, purple-and-orange striped pants--
horizontal stripes, no less--mauve shirt with tiny yellow
polka dots, and a dark green tie with a light-up Christmas
tree blinking on it.

      "You stopped listening, didn't you?"

      She pressed the fingertips of one hand to the bare
expanse of her chest above her tube-top and raised her
eyebrows at her frowning redheaded cousin.  "Moi?"

      Cuz shook her head and turned to say something to
Wynter.

      Mister Arnold churned on about the new band shell and
the band contests that would be featured next year to raise
money for a "Schoolership Fund."  Whatev'!  She just wanted
to hear the music and dance, if it was, like, something she
could dance to.  Some of the worthless crap these mainland
people played, however...

      "And now today's line-up," he went, holding up a
small sheet of paper.  "Those of you who ignored the signs
and sat on that side of the gazebo may want to move to this
side," he emphasized directions with huge arm movements and
exaggerated pointing, "because this is where the speakers
are pointed, for those players who use them."  He paused
and then went, "Well, okay but don't complain later,
because I TOLD YOU SO!"

      When he decided the crowd didn't, like, react enough
he waved his hands in looping circles, like he was pulling
more laughs from the crowd to himself.

      He put the paper in the hand with the mike, looked
down at whoev' in the audience, like, faked a telephone
with his free hand, and went, "Call Maurer's and tell them
we have a dead audience for pick-up.  Have them bring two
semi's, one bucket loader, and a pooper-scooper for that
midget over there."

      _Lame!_

      After he finally got whatev' response he needed he
took the paper in his other hand and held it out at arm's
length.  He scooted his glasses to the end of his nose and
held it out again.  "First up is our Griffin Middle School
entry, JUNIOR AND THE TWINS!"

      Cuz jumped up.  "WHAT?  We were supposed to be last!"
She made like a hurricane up the steps of the gazebo,
looking like she might just jerk Doofus Arnold down to her
level.  _He'll, like, be lucky if that's all that Cuz does
when she's in that mood!  He might be safer jumping in
Kilauea and, like, facing Pele herself!_

      Hailey twisted to mention that to Jimmy, but he'd got
up and was standing beside his dad at the other end of the
table, with Huntly and LaMarcus, too.  Her new sister was,
of course, looking at Jimmy.  Hailey smiled with just a
hint of envy.

      As Cuz stomped her way back to the table, Mister
Arnold keyed his mike.  "Well, it seems we've already had
our first problem.  Nobody bothered to tell the closing act
that the opening act's lead singer's early return flight
out of Wichita was delayed this morning, so their positions
had been switched.  He's landed but probably isn't out of
Denver yet.  Normally I'd say to Junior and the Twins,
'Love,' because love means never having to say you're sorry!"

      Hailey rolled her eyes.  _Lame!_

      He waited for the groans.  As he lifted the mike back
to his mouth, Mister Sillerman's voice rang out from
somewhere back behind Hailey.  "Junior, you're the sorriest
person I know!"

      He waited for the laughs to die, then went, "In this
case, Maynard's right for the first time in his life.  I am
sorry and apologize sincerely, because I wasn't aware that
they hadn't been notified of the change.  They need time to
change clothes for their act.  The number two act is Harold
Butler.  Harold, can you go on first?"  He scanned the
audience, then pointed at someone and repeated the question.

      Somebody Hailey couldn't see shouted, "Yes!" as Cuz
got there.

      Cuz waved her hands in a scooping motion, meaning
everyone should, like, join her.  Wynter and Hailey jumped
up.  Cuz began barking orders.  "Sis, you bring the rest.
Cuz, I need you now.  Hurry up, shithead!  Okay, let's go."

      Hailey went with Junior and the Twins in the rush to
the dressing tents standing beyond the gazebo and the
picnic tables on its other side.  She slid beside Jimmy and
hooked her arm around his.  When he jumped she went,
"Relax, pickledick.  There SO isn't the time for me to make
your dreams come true."

      She giggled at his red face but wouldn't release his
arm.  She went, "I might fall in these sandals as fast as
we're walking."

      "Oh," was all he said.  He slipped his arm behind her
in support.  She made a note of how well that trick worked
as they hurried along.

      They went into the second tent almost without slowing
down, giving her no time to flirt with the cute security
guard.  Back at the gazebo the newest new opening act
strummed an acoustic guitar and began "singing" some
country crap.  It was just as well that she was here in the
tent.  The guy couldn't carry a tune in a cargo net, and
you couldn't dance to that junk.

      "Okay," Cinnamon went as they stopped, "you're about
to get a lesson in what real backstage quick-changing is
like.  No dressing rooms.  Get with it!"

      Hailey thought Jimmy was going to faint when Cinnamon
ripped off her top and reached for the flower-print
bandanna that she would wear in the act.  He threw a
horrified look at his father, like he thought the sight of
Cuz's gorgeous bare tits might cause his dad to have a
heart attack or whatev', but Mister McCauley just turned,
pulled off his tee shirt, and dropped his shorts.

      Hailey pulled Jimmy's head down to whisper in his
ear.  "Sorry I have to go, stud, but your dad's costume,
like, requires more help than yours."  She wiggled her
tongue in his ear for a second, then sprang to his dad,
reaching for his wetsuit.

      "JIMMY!" Cuz barked in warning as she made a bandeau
top out of the bandanna.  Hailey SO wished she had time to
lick the little redhead's nipples.  _Just to, like, make
them wet so the bandanna won't slip_, she thought.  _Sure_.

      Mister McCauley turned his head to look at his son
before stepping into the pants of the wetsuit.  "Son, hurry
up and change.  Oh, for Pete's sake!  Don't you think I
know what to do after all these years?"  He pointed out
Hailey with a little jerk of his head.  "This isn't my
first experience at... this, you know."

      Jimmy's horrified look remained, but he blindly
reached for the hem of his shirt.

      Hailey giggled and glanced at Mister McCauley's
underwear while she pulled up the waistband of the wetsuit.
_Like son, like father!_ she observed.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Wynter halted the others while the band rushed out of
the tent, LaMarcus and Huntly slipping on their headsets
after they cleared the door.  She frowned because Hailey
wasn't with them.  If Kenny hadn't been with Wynter's
group, she'd have been unkindly suspicious.  Before she
could stick her head inside to check on her newest sister,
Hailey rushed out, still attempting to fasten the catch of
her grass skirt, and followed the others.

      Wynter held open the door to the tent and used arm
movements to speed them along.  "You guys hurry up!  The
girls will take longer to change."

      The guys were out in no time.  "Aw, wait a minute,"
Duck Watkins said and rushed back inside for his forgotten
cornet.  Naturally the rest, especially Kenny, began
razzing him about wanting to be in the tent while the girls
changed into swim wear.

      Wynter followed Shamisa, Monique, Alyssa, and Megan
into the tent and waved Duck toward the door with a
sweeping gesture.  She was half-surprised when he paused to
kiss Alyssa on his way out, not at Duck but at Alyssa's
show of affection in public.

      Alyssa turned to Wynter, her face still red.
"Wynter, I'm sorry, but all I have is a tank suit, and I
had to sneak it..."

      "Oh!" Wynter said.  "I almost forgot.  Over here.
Sis got this for you."

      Alyssa took the box.  "How did she get this on a
holiday morning?"

      "All she said when I asked was, 'You can never have
too many friends.'  Come on!" she said, pulling off her top
and reaching for her bra clasp.  "We have to hurry in case
we're needed early."

      Alyssa looked into the box before undressing.
"Mother will kill me."

                            ~ ~ ~

      Cinnamon led the way up the back side of the gazebo
while Mister Arnold tried to garner applause for Harold
Garner.  Her ears still hurt from what he called singing.
She wondered how many wasted favors he'd called in to get
himself on the stage today, then shook it off and keyed the
intercom for a check with each of the band members and then
with Finnegan.

      "Good," Finnegan replied to all.  "We're off line, so
gimme a five count, Cinnamon first."

      Finnegan adjusted levels while each member of the
band quickly counted to five and back.  Finnegan was good.
He stopped all but Jimmy at the four on the down count.
"Instrument check," he said.  He double-checked the line
inputs one instrument at a time, with Jimmy also running
the check for Alyssa's keyboard and Wynter's Clavinova.
"We're ready."

      Mister Arnold had given up on getting any more
applause for someone who had already received more than his
act deserved.  He had launched into some trivia about the
statue of Jack Hargus at the other end of the open area,
giving The Twins time to complete their set-up.

      Cinnamon gave the band a quick eyeball.  She thought
that Huntly, Jimmy, and LaMarcus looked great in the faded
baggy beach shorts that hung to their knees and their open
Hawaiian shirts.  She thought Jimmy's arrowhead looked a
little out of place.  She knew he wouldn't remove it under
any circumstances, so she hadn't asked.  She'd already
heard several comments about Mister McCauley and his wet
suit.  Although he'd assured her it was not a problem, she
was still concerned about heat stress, even if the top was
open to his waist.

      She glanced down.  She was sure that the bandanna
would stay in place.  If not, well, unlike Janet Jackson in
her staged "accident," she didn't have pasties on.  If she
had a real accident, then some guys were probably going to
remember this concert for the rest of their lives.

      She decided she'd have to get a different wrap-around
Hawaiian skirt for their next performance.  Something had
shifted during their rush to the gazebo, and now it wasn't
comfortable.  She was tempted to just remove it, but
doubtless some fuddy-duddys would complain about her
performing in a bikini bottom, even though it had far more
cloth than she was used to wearing.  And probably
infinitely more than Hailey was wearing.  She thought she
knew the real reason why Cuz was "having a problem" with
the catch of the grass skirt as everyone else was leaving.

      When Cinnamon lightly tapped the cowbell and the high
hat, Mister Arnold turned a questioning eye to her.  She
nodded.

      "But that's enough history for now," Mister Arnold
said.  "More of you dozed off in my lecture than you did in
school.  Ladies and gentlemen!  In this corner, the
heavyweight champions of the Griffin Middle School musical
talent!"

      The headsets came on.  Finnegan announced,
"Instruments are hot."

      Mister Arnold paused as the cheering erupted.
Finally he said, "On lead guitar, the best former third
baseman Griffin Middle School has ever seen, except for
everybody else..."

      Cinnamon grinned at the hot glare Huntly threw at
her.  He knew who had written the intros.

      "...HUNTLY SHERIDAN!"

      Huntly strummed a B-Major chord and gave the tremolo
bar a workout, like he was trying to strangle something.
Or someone.

      _'B-major' for 'major bitch,'_ Cinnamon thought with
an even wider grin.

      "On rhythm guitar, the highway department's surfing
supervisor, KEITH MCCAULEY!"

      Mister McCauley pantomimed riding a surfboard, then
did the closing gliss for 'Pipeline,' followed by the
individually-plucked strings of the final chord.  More
cheering followed while he waved.

      "On keyboards, Griffin Middle School's top science
whiz and the best friend of the heroine of yesterday's life-
saving incident at the Aspenleaf Center, JIMMY MCCAULEY!"

      As the crowd whooped and cheered and Jimmy played the
first measure of the main theme of 'Wynter's Song,'
Cinnamon wondered how Sis had reacted to THAT intro.

      "On bass, the next school year's leading contender
for breaking Lowell Wyman's record for the most points
scored in a season by an eighth grader, LAMARCUS REED!"

      Cinnamon wondered if anybody had heard LaMarcus's
name because the screaming and yelling began after the word
"record."  LaMarcus didn't seem to notice as he pantomimed
dribbling and shooting, and then played 'Shave and a
Haircut.'

      "Appearing with the band, translating their sounds
into motion as special guest dancer, Hawaii's favorite
wahine, HAILEY KENNEDY!"

      Cuz stepped forward and, palms together over her
head, did a brief hip-shaking dance that told Cinnamon that
the grass skirt was securely fastened.  If that didn't
shake it loose, nothing would.  And she thought the crowd
had gone wild over LaMarcus!  She glanced at her father,
drooling at their table, and was surprised to see Mister
King's open mouth and wide eyes as well.  She grinned to
herself.

      "And finally, last but least only in physical height."

      The way he laughed told everyone that Mister Arnold
had written that line himself.

      "Here she is, the one you're waiting for!  The star
of the Griffin Middle School Band..."

      Cinnamon didn't hear the rest of it because of the
crowd.  When Mister Arnold threw an arm back and turned his
face to her, she took that as a cue and gave the drums and
cymbals what she called 'Intro Number One.'

      She switched her headset to the PA setting.  "Thank
you!  Ladies and gentlemen, 'Walk, Don't Run '64!'"  Her
left arm shot up, holding the stick horizontal and parallel
to her shoulders and the right hand rose with its stick to
count off the beat.  With the headsets she could have
spoken the count, but audiences had to be visually as well
as aurally entertained with what they expected.

      Her arms shot down and she paused while LaMarcus
brought the base line up the scale in a gliss to the proper
key and pattern.  The grin she was never able to control
seized her face, her hands moved, and once again the wild
ride took possession of her.

                            ~ ~ ~

      After 'Pipeline' ended, Wynter asked everybody to
gather around and quickly check headsets with Finnegan.
Cinnamon, able to listen in through her headset, stretched
things out until all had checked in.  Not that doing so
required any effort on the little redhead's part.  Sis
merely had to wait before quieting the crowd.

      "Do we have all our equipment?" Wynter asked with a
pointed look at Duck.  When he looked like an old sheep and
nodded, she said, "Okay, let's go."

      "Ladies and gentlemen," said the loudspeakers in
Sis's voice, "'Mariner No. 4!'"

      Wynter's heart swelled in her chest as Jimmy played
the rising opening chords.  Huntly's interwoven notes gave
way to the main theme, and she was thrilled to see people
up and dancing everywhere.  When she halted everyone at the
back of the gazebo, she'd noticed that Huntly wasn't with
the rest of the band.  He was down front, dancing on the
steps, not with Hailey but with Evi Lopez on the ground in
front of him.  She sure hoped he didn't lose his balance
and fall down the remaining steps, especially with his new
guitar.  She made a note to remind him later how dangerous
that was, especially with his injured knee.

      She focused on Hailey, dancing at the edge of the
floor just above the steps, and worried that she would lose
her balance and tumble down into Huntly and Evi.  Then she
noticed the speed and motion of Sis Two's hips and wondered
if that would delay osteoarthritis or speed its onset.
Both seemed equally likely results of...  She gasped.

      _Wait a minute!  Is she wearing anything under that
grass skirt?_

      "Repeat second verse and chorus," Sis said into the
headset intercom.

      Huntly stopped dancing for the transition chords and
the interweave, then began dancing with Evi again.  The
crowd, both dancers and sit-abouts, was eating it up.

      Wynter turned her eyes up to Tyrone's.  "We may be
the anticlimax."

      He threw an arm around her shoulders and gave her a
squeeze.  "Trust Little Momma to find a way to make every
group after us look bad."

      Wynter thought Mister Butler had found a way to make
everyone after him look good, but she didn't say that, nor
did she mention that she thought the current crowd reaction
had more to do with Huntly than Cinnamon.  Besides, if she
said so to Sis, the little drummer would just flip a hand
and say disdainfully, "It's the band that counts, not
individual performers," the same way she always responded
to praise about herself.  But Wynter sure was glad to see
Huntly getting some acclaim, too.

      The crowd exploded again when Huntly's arm whipped
around and up, index and little fingers extended, at the
end of the final chord.  After he climbed the steps back to
his position, pausing for an instant to hug Hailey,
Cinnamon threw her arms up in a "V" and motioned for quiet
with her hands.

      "Thank you!" she cried several times until the noise
dropped off.  "Ladies and gentlemen, that's all we have as
Junior and the Twins...," she paused until the crowd's
protests began to quiet when they noticed the other
performers taking the stage.  "As I was trying to say,
that's all we have as Junior and the Twins, but we have
more as part of the back-up band for the final number!"

      She paused for the crowd's reaction.  Wynter noted
that many people had already identified Tyrone.

      Sis quickly ran through the introductions.  The crowd
reaction told Wynter too many people remembered how Derek
and Duck had acted at the Talent Show performance.  She
didn't think Dustin got the response he deserved, but it
was much better than Derek's and Duck's.  Alyssa also
deserved more applause than she got, though she got at
least as much as Dustin.  Maybe it was because people were
surprised at seeing her in a two-piece swim suit.

      Cinnamon stole a glance at Edie Erland while Alyssa
waved and the crowd cheered.  The woman had a look of sheer
horror on her face, even though Alyssa's swim suit could be
called at best a two-piece and certainly not a bikini.
She'd been tempted to order a bikini for Alyssa, but she
realized that if she'd done so, Mrs. Erland would have
grounded her daughter for life.  As it was, she would have
to kiss a lot of the woman's ample butt to shift the anger
away from Alyssa.  Well, it wasn't as if she hadn't had
practice doing similar actions over the past few years.

      Wynter smiled at Alyssa and added her own applause,
then waited for Sis to continue.  She was astonished that
the crowd's thunderous reaction for herself included wolf
whistles and cat-calls.  Fortunately, Jimmy took that in
stride.

      Wynter's heart swelled in her chest when, during the
introduction of Kenny and of Megan as Suzie's substitute,
the crowd cheered Suzie, too.  She would e-mail her friend
as soon as she could, or maybe just phone her tonight, and
tell her about the crowd's response.  Megan received more
whistles and cat-calls with her applause.  Wynter always
thought Megan was attractive in her team swim suit.  She
was positively stunning in that bikini, even if she didn't
fill out hers any more than Wynter did.

      "Fifty dollars--make that FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS to
anyone who can find me better back-up singers than SHAMISA
JAMES AND MONIQUE LARUE!"

      This time the reaction was about fifty percent
whistles and cat-calls.  Shamisa and Monique wiggled as
they waved and seemed disappointed that the fifty percent
was all they got.

      "And finally the lead singer and star of this act,
who has signed a recording contract, along with our bass
player, for a CD due out around Christmas!  Ladies and
gentlemen, TYRONE HAYES!"

      The little drummer waited for the crowd noise to
drop, finally gave up, and shot her left arm in the air.
"Thank you!  Let's go 'Dancing on the Ceiling!'"

      Her arm flew down, Finnegan again used the sound
board to create footsteps while moving those and the voices
of Tyrone, Megan, and Kenny across the gazebo platform for
the intro bit.  Tyrone ended with, "Let's go check this
thing out!",  Sis slammed out the opening drum sequence,
and Wynter's heart swelled in her chest yet again as the
band kicked in.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Suzie jumped to her feet and waved as Mister Berger
continued.  "Do not let the age of any of our student
coaches fool you.  The word in their title that concerns
you is "coach," not "student."  They are every bit as much
coaches as are Coach Bryant or Coach Miller.  We had an
incident in Group One with a camper who had trouble with
the concept that Coach Middleton was a coach, even though
they were the same age.  We almost sent her home.  Next
time we won't be as lenient."

      Suzie tried ever so hard not to giggle when she heard
some voices whispering "Amber" or "Vallarta," but she
wasn't sure she was successful.  Suzie glanced at Jennifer
and saw that she'd covered her mouth to hide the smile that
was in her eyes, too.  Then she realized that most of the
lady coaches were doing the same thing, and so was Coach
Wallace.

      "Thank you, Coaches.  You may take your seats."

      Suzie and the other student coaches sat down as
Mister Berger began explaining the schedule.  Betsy
Knowland, an eleventh-grader from Grand Junction, leaned
toward Suzie and whispered, "Vallarta may have been a pain
in the butt during Group One, but I'll bet she's made your
job for Group Two easier now that word's gotten around."

      Suzie hadn't thought of that.  Swim camp just kept
getting better and better!

                            ~ ~ ~

      "Hey, Jimbo, I just got an idea," Huntly said while
the guys sat in the grass and waited for the girls to clear
the tent so that they could change.

      "NEWS FLASH!" Kenny said in his weird voice.  "HUNTLY
SHERIDAN HAS ORIGINAL IDEA!  WORLD LEADERS ASTOUNDED! POPE
DECLARES MIRACLE!  UN CALLS EMERGENCY SESSION!"

      "You putz," Jimmy said with a weary voice.  Then he
spoke to Huntly. "So, is this idea going to cost me any
money?"

      "Have I ever cost you money before?"

      "No.  I figure I'm overdue."

      "Well," Huntly said, lowering his voice so that it
wouldn't carry into the tent, "time is money, and it'll
cost you time.  I think I know what we can get bitch for
her birthday present."

      "WE?  I already have my present for her picked out."

      "Yeah, but..."  He beckoned Mister McCauley away from
Derek and Duck with a wave of his hand, then raised his
voice and said, "LaMarcus!  C'mere a sec."  When the two
had joined them he said in a soft voice, "Let's write
Cinnamon a song as a gift from Junior and the Rest of the
Twins.  Not 'Cinnamon's Song,' because that's too much like
Wynter's gift, but something by us and named for her.
Whadda ya think?"

      "I think it's a great idea," Kenny said before any of
the Rest of the Twins could speak.  "Especially since it
doesn't require any effort from me, since I'm not in the
band.  And since she's a drummer, you can call it 'Cinnamon
Sticks!'"

      While all thought the title was a good idea, even if
it did come from Kenny, LaMarcus saw a problem with the
song itself.  "What about percussion?  I mean, Finnegan can
probably whip up a drum machine in about twenty minutes
from a toaster oven, a pack of chewing gum, and a broken I-
Pod, but your present would be a fatal insult if you used
one in a song for her.  Doubly fatal if you go with a title
that implies drumming.  Me, I'd rather live at least until
Tyrone's album is released, preferably until I have a
chance to beat Mister Wyman's record, and I'd hate to see
Mrs. McCauley become a widow at such a young age."

      "Oh, it's not an all-bad idea," Kenny said with a
leer.  "If she kills Jimmy, then I can marry Wynter and
deliver all our babies."

      Jimmy's fists clenched.  He snarled, "You putz!"

      Kenny grinned in triumph.  He'd blown Jimmy's cool.

      Huntly shook his head and waved a hand as if erasing
the idea from a chalkboard.  "I think I can take care of
the percussion.  In fact, I'm sure I can, but I'm not going
to waste the effort unless we all agree on the idea."

      After thirty seconds of discussion, the agreement was
unanimous.

      "Okay, so what about the percussion?" Mister McCauley
asked.  "LaMarcus is right.  Marti doesn't need my
insurance money for a shopping spree in Paris yet."

      Huntly grinned and jumped to his feet.  "Back in a
moment."  He left them looking at each other and dashed to
the first dressing tent.  He'd had his idea while watching
Guy Malone entering it.

      He found Guy stretched out on the floor of the tent,
one forearm over his eyes.  "Hey, neighbor.  Or is this a
bad time?"

      Guy didn't move his arm from his eyes.  "What do you
want, Sheridan?  I have a headache."

      "Glare, tension, or too much partying last night?"
Huntly asked, seating himself beside the prostrate figure.

      "Tension, I guess, compounded by Jerry's flight
delay.  All last week was... Never mind.  What do you want?"

      Huntly outlined his idea, including the style of
music he envisioned.  "What do you think?"

      "No way.  Why should I help out a middle school band?
I'm a senior next year."

      "Well, two reasons.  Two, thanks to Cinnamon you
don't have Matthew Wylie competing for your position when
school starts; B, you get to play on one of her drum kits;
and one, I can arrange with a certain Future MD to massage
that tension headache out of your neck and temples."

      Guy lifted his arm enough to peer at Huntly with one
eye.  "One of her kits?"

      "Her practice kit at Jimmy McCauley's house.
Although it's only a 'practice' kit, it's still twice the
size of yours.  That's it on the gazebo right now."

      "That one?  And you can get Wynter to massage my neck?"

      "As a special favor to me, if it's worth my trouble.
And hers.  She and Cinnamon are adopted sisters, you know."
He poured a quart of honey over his voice.  "I'm sure she'd
be appreciatively grateful if you were doing something to
benefit her sister.  She massages my bad knee regularly.
Never had anybody do a better job.  She sure has the right
touch.   Just the right blend of pressure and caress.
Doctor Henderson let her massage it back when he wouldn't
let any of the residents touch it, you know."  He let out a
long sigh.  "She has the warmest hands."

      Guy thought for a moment.  "What do I have to do?"

      _Got him!_  Huntly snapped back to all-business.
"We're going to call it 'Cinnamon Sticks.'  First, give me
a basic rhythm pattern to build the music around.  Give us
several to choose from.  We'll write the song, then you
perform an enhanced version live while we record it.
You'll get your own solo."

      Guy's arm relaxed and covered his eyes again.  "I'll
have a couple of ideas for you by the time you return with
my masseuse."

      Huntly hurried back.  The girls were starting to
emerge from the tent.

      "Well?" Jimmy asked.

      "It's done," he whispered.  "I just need to use your
girlfriend for a little while."

      He liked the way Jimmy frowned.  It was similar to
the look Kenny got.  "I beg your pardon?"

      "Oh, it's not for me.  In exchange for his
participation in 'Cinnamon Sticks,' I'm pimping her to Guy
Malone."

      Huntly was grateful that he'd correctly guessed Kenny
would intervene on his behalf.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Jimmy closed and locked the front door behind the
Brees family.  His parents had entertained Doctor Brees and
Mrs. Vasquez while Cinnamon reassembled the drum kit in the
practice room with assistance from Hailey and himself.  He
wished Wynter could have been there to help keep Hailey
under control, but the Taylors were visiting the Kings
after they had all left the park.  Besides, Hailey had
mostly behaved.

      "I'll mess with the rest of the mess tomorrow," his
mom said.  "It's after my bedtime, and I'm worn out from a
fun day.  You coming?"

      "In a minute," his dad said.  "I'm going to have some
quality time with my son first."

      His mother started to say something, but held her
piece after she looked into his eyes.  He guessed that his
parents knew how to read each other's thoughts the way he
and Wynter did.  He hoped that meant their future marriage
would be as good as his parents'.

      "Good night, son," she said, giving him a kiss.

      "Night, Mom."  He waited while his dad kissed her,
too, and then followed him into the family room.  Something
about the way his dad was acting reminded him of the time
they had had The Talk.  That meant his dad had something
serious on his mind.  _Hailey_, he decided.  _He's going to
complain that I don't do enough to keep Hailey under
control_.

      A hand on his shoulder stopped him and directed him
to the couch.  He sat in one corner.  His dad sat next to
him, leaving just enough room to pull one leg up on the
couch and face Jimmy.  His dad smiled.

      "Son, I don't think I've ever heard you play as well
as you did today.  On everything."

      Jimmy relaxed a little.  "Thanks, but that was
Finnegan's doing."

      His dad nodded.  "Yeah.  A little of it.  But most of
it was Jimmy McCauley.  I've always known how good you are,
but today you made me think I'd underestimated you.  Any
trouble getting the drums set up?"  He indicated the
basement with a jerk of his head.

      Jimmy grinned.  "You know Cinnamon.  She had to do
everything herself.  Hailey and I just passed wrenches and
screwdrivers to her when she called for them.  I think we
know how the nurses and other doctors will feel when Wynter
performs surgery."

      His dad grinned at the image in his mind.  "I think I
know what you mean.  Speaking of Wynter, remember her panic
attacks back when you first met her?"

      Jimmy nodded.  "Yeah.  She reminded me of them again,
too, when Mister King told that story."

      He wasn't sure exactly when his dad's face turned
from grinning to solemn.  "That wasn't what reminded me of
them.  It was you.  Son, it's like she exchanged
personalities with you.  Now you're having them."

      Jimmy was dumbfounded.  "Me?"

      "Yes."  He nodded, but with a warm smile as he
gripped Jimmy's shoulder and squeezed.  "You're doing it
more often since school let out, and it was getting bad
then.  You had just started to relax whenever Cinnamon was
around me, and then Hailey arrived.  Today was no
exception, especially in the changing tent."

      Jimmy felt his face redden.  _Just like Wynter's!_
"Dad, it's just that..."

      "It's just that she's not like any of your other
friends, though she does come awfully close to Kenny on
occasion."

      _Yeah, but from the other direction_, he thought but
didn't voice that opinion.  He nodded, unable to find words.

      "Do you know how old I am?  Well, I'm not so old that
I've forgotten what it was like when I was your age, and I
certainly haven't forgotten what it was like when I was
performing in the band all those years ago, even though you
think I'm probably senile and have lost those memories."

      He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't sort into
a reasonable order.

      Dad shook his head and squeezed his shoulder harder.
"I'm just kidding, and you should know that.  How old are
you?  Eighteen?  No, I don't mean by the calendar, I mean
emotionally and intellectually.  I'd say you're eighteen as
a minimum.  Which means we aren't going to have a
father/son talk, we're going to have a man-to-man talk.
While no father worth the title really wants to see his
children grow up, I've also been looking forward to the day
that we can do this together.  This is a special moment."

      Wynter's expression about her heart feeling too big
for her chest came to mind.

      Dad must have felt the same way because he put his
free hand on his own chest and pushed.  "Mine, too," he
said with a grin, causing Jimmy to relax a little more.
"So, let's talk about some things I'd never bring up with
my son the child."

      "It's just that Cinnamon, and especially Hailey...
Well, they are...  They have..."  A gentle tightening of
the shoulder squeeze stopped him.

      "It's just that they are girls, they are built with
nice accessories, and they are free spirits.  I know.  Back
in medieval times, when I was young, many girls had nice
accessories and a few were also free spirits, too.

      "Ever hear of Lizzie Corelli?  She sometimes sang
chorus on the dozen or so occasions when John Mackie was a
guest singer.  We performed outdoors in Durango one summer
night.  Got there late and the crowd was getting restless.
One dressing tent.

      "I guess Lizzie was about five years older than
Cinnamon then.  We were seniors.  She was liberated.  Not
only no bra, but no panties either.  One of her headlights
was as big as both of Cinnamon's--we called them headlights
back then--and you'd needed either a Weedwacker or a week
of searching to find your way through her bush."

      If his dad realized that Jimmy's face was about to
ignite from the heat of his blush, he pretended not to
notice.

      "She was free-spirited like Hailey.  Stripped first
and then started looking for her costume in her suitcase.
Gave all of us a good show.  Then she saw I was having
problems with my belt.  One of those fancy, tricky buckles
that was hard to unfasten if you were in a hurry.  She
pranced over--and if those headlights had been floppy she'd
have blackened her eyes--unfastened it in a flash, hooked
her thumbs in my waistband, and yanked down.  Got my
underwear, too."

      "Well, at least Hailey didn't do that."

      "No.  But Lizzie's act had already had its desired
effect on me.  Mister Johnson sprang up and slapped her
right in the chin."

      Jimmy wanted to die of embarrassment that his father
would talk to him about this, but he was overcome with
morbid fascination.  "Then what?"  _Ohmigod!  I can't
BELIEVE I just asked that!_

      "She grabbed it and pumped a couple of times, kissed
the head, and said, 'Later, Keefy.'  That was her nickname
for me.  'We gotta get up on stage right now.'  She pranced
back to her suitcase, bent over to search in it again, and
wiggled her butt at me."  His voice grew faint and his eyes
looked back in time.  "One of the few girls I knew with a
cuter butt than your mom's."

      He wasn't sure that he really wanted to know, and he
was almost too embarrassed to ask.  In fact, he wouldn't
have asked, but it was a special occasion.  "Did... did Mom
ever find out?"

      Dad's eyes focused on his and he got that grin-and-
nod combination that he'd inherited.  "John had started to
gain weight by then.  She was helping him get into his
stage pants."

      "MOM KNEW?  SHE WAS THERE?  SHE DIDN'T KILL YOU?"

      He shook his head and grinned.  "Son, I know your
mother is female, but even then she could use logic when
the situation called for it.  First, I wasn't the one who
stripped Lizzie.  She did that all by herself.  Second, she
knew from experience that my belt buckle always jammed when
I was in a hurry."  He paused for a moment, allowing Jimmy
to realize the implication.  "Third, I didn't do anything,
Lizzie did.  Fourth, she knew I was no more responsible for
Lizzie's behavior than she was because she's a smart woman,
even if she isn't Wynter's intellectual equal."

      "But... But you had a... You were..."  He couldn't
say the words.

      "Your mother was struggling with her own boner issues
at that point.  John had enjoyed the show, too.  His pants
were already too tight, and now they were tighter."

      Jimmy wondered if he'd feel the same way if somebody
announced that the Law of Gravity had just been repealed.
"MOM?"

      "Son, we had sex back in the old days, too.  That's
how there got to be so many of us today, you know.  None of
this spontaneous generation partho... whatever."

      "Parthenogenesis," he said automatically.  "But..."
He couldn't find any words.

      "Jimmy, life is what it is.  If nothing else always
goes one hundred percent the way you want it, why should
this?  It's not what happens around the two of you that
matters, it's what you two do about, to, and for each
other, and the feelings you have for each other.  I didn't
pork Lizzie and John didn't pork your mother.  I didn't
fondle Lizzie and John and your mother didn't fondle each
other.  Marti and I were both caught in an unusual
situation.  We did what was required by circumstances and
didn't alter our feelings about each other for things
beyond our control."

      Wynter's words came back to him.  "Normal rules don't
apply in an emergency," he half-whispered.

      "That's a good way to put it.  You... oh."  He
grinned and nodded.  "You're quoting somebody smarter than
both of us, aren't you?"

      Jimmy sighed.  How had he missed the obvious?  "Yeah.
That's what she said in the mine."

      "Maybe you should give your mother and me both some
credit for being smart enough to realize that, too.  Lizzie
did want me and didn't stop making plays for me or for
Craig Northglenn, who also resisted her charm because he
was seriously involved with another girl at that time.  I
don't know what Marti would have done if I'd jumped
Lizzie's bones at the time, but I never tried to find out.
John never tried to pork your mother, so I don't know how
I'd have felt if he had.  But we loved each other and that
was all that mattered to us.  We were starting to discuss
wedding plans at that point."

      "Oh."

      "Although, that belt disappeared after the next time
Marti and I met at my house after school.  But I'm sure
that was coincidence.  Your mom thinks the way Hailey keeps
going after you is, well, I don't know.  Cute?  It remind
her of Lizzie's attempts to get me.  And she's convinced
that Hailey will be every bit as frustrated when she leaves
as Lizzie was when she grew up and left town because none
of Hailey's tricks are working on you.  I agree with your
mom.  So does Wynter."

      Jimmy straightened and frowned.  "She does?"

      His dad pulled his hand back and gave him an
analytical look worthy of Cinnamon.  "Who are you and what
have you done with my son?  Jimmy wouldn't ask that
question because he knows how smart his girlfriend and
future wife is.  Suzie might jump to that conclusion, but
not Wynter.  She's enjoying how Hailey keeps failing but
doesn't give up, even though she can't win."

      _Well, that WAS what Wynter always said.  It should
make sense.  Except..._ "But Wynter's a girl and girls..."

      "Are individuals," Dad concluded, cutting him off.
They don't conform to any one standard behavior, any more
than we men do.  Some people say all boys are like Kenny.
You aren't.  You know, I have two very good friends who can
give you a lecture on the effects of stereotypes versus
reality before they return to New York next week."

      "Oh."

      "Oh," Dad echoed with a smile.  "So next time you're
in the hot tub with Cinnamon and Hailey, enjoy the view.
Wynter's like Marti:  she doesn't mind where you get your
appetite as long as you return to her restaurant when
you're hungry.  Your mom's going to be pleased when she
sees what an appetite Cinnamon's headlights and Hailey's
bare ass and nookie under that grass skirt have created."

      "DAD!"

      He shook his head.  "Son, I think that one is a shade
of red that Wynter never achieved.  Your turn to talk."

      Jimmy's mouth worked but no coherent sounds came out.

      "Well," Dad said, rising and extending a hand to help
Jimmy up, "you think about it and we'll talk later,
whenever you're ready.  I'll always have time for a man-to-
man with you."  He hugged Jimmy.  "I love you, son."

      "I love you too, Dad."

      An hour later, Jimmy was still looking at the ceiling
above his bed as more lights came on inside his head.



Twenty

      "THAT DOES IT!"

      For an instant Wynter was worried that she'd sounded
way too angry instead of just cross, but, drat it, she
_was_ way too angry instead of just cross.  She was mouth-
breathing in deep, rapid gasps and her cardiovascular rate
was accelerated.  Her blood pressure must have been at
least two hundred over one-fifty the way her heart pounded
in her chest.

      Everybody stared at her in catatonic silence, too
shocked to say or do anything.  She pointed at the practice
room door with a hand that shook in Parkinson's-like
tremors. "Jimmy!  Huntly!  LaMarcus!  Mister McCauley!
Hailey!  You want to take a break.  Upstairs!  You two,
STAY PUT!"

      The four band members blinked at each other but moved
swiftly and without a word.  The other one opened her mouth
to say something.

      "Whitney Gwyneth," Wynter said in a voice rising in
both pitch and volume, "OUT!"

      Huntly took Hailey's left arm above the elbow and led
her to the door.  The looks he threw at Cinnamon and Kenny
were symptoms of his own displeasure.

      Wynter tried to force calmness into her voice the way
Mother did whenever she spoke to someone after Aunt Dumb or
Uncle Bozo had upset her.  She was afraid she'd been no
more successful than Mother sometimes was when her
quavering voice said, "Huntly, would you close the door,
please?"

      "Way ahead of you, Doc," he said with a single nod.
He already had the knob in his free hand.  "And thanks."
He closed the door as he began a warning to Hailey to shut
up if she wanted to live.

      Wynter glared at the two miscreants and tapped her
foot, giving the others time to get upstairs.  Cinnamon
looked chagrined and contrite.  Kenny frowned through his
crooked glasses and defiantly opened his mouth.  Wynter's
right hand exploded upward, index finger raised in warning.
Kenny shut it.

      Wynter crossed her arms under her breasts, perhaps to
keep from strangling the pair, and shook her head.  She'd
have stamped her right foot and leaned forward to scream,
but she was afraid they'd laugh at her imitation of Suzie.
This was no laughing matter.  She took a deep breath.

      "CINNAMON ANNE!  KEVIN KENNETH, JUNIOR!  YOU'RE OUT
OF LINE!"

      Neither spoke, but Cinnamon nodded.  Kenny turned his
head and focused a hot glare on Cinnamon.  "I SAID YOU'RE
OUT OF LINE!"

      Kenny flinched looked around.  He hadn't seen Wynter
stop inches in front of him.

      She leaned down until her nose almost touched his.
"You have been one of my best friends for most of my life."
She moved in front of the drums.  Cinnamon rose and crossed
her hands in front of her, looking meek and apologetic.
"You are my first and dearest officially adopted sister."
She turned and paced a few feet until the three formed the
points of an equilateral triangle, then took a deep breath
and turned again.  She looked back and forth between the
two until Kenny's head dropped.  She unfolded her arms.

      "I love both of you.  I don't want to lose either of
you, but... This.  Is.  ENOUGH!  YOU are mad at Kenny
because of the way he treated Suzie.  YOU are mad at
Cinnamon because she's mad at you, totally ignorant,
apparently, that you caused the problem.  It was bad enough
the way you two have sniped at each other, especially the
way you acted in Otter Park yesterday.  Now you're almost
ready to MAIM each other.  If YOU want to tease Kenny the
way you do Huntly, that's fine.  And you!  If YOU want to
tease Cinnamon the way you do Jimmy, that's fine, too.  But
you two AREN'T teasing, you're BEING MEAN!"

      Her fists suddenly flew up to the points of her hips,
as if she'd had parallel symmetrical muscle spasms in both
arms.  Her voice grew cold and steady.  "I thought both of
you were smart enough to see the effect you're having on
the rest of us.  Even Hailey is growing cross with you.
But, no, you're both too wrapped up in trading shots to
notice.  That's a BAD SYMPTOM!"  She gave them a moment to
think about that.

      "Now, this is what's going to happen.  I'm going
upstairs to join the others.  You two are either going to
settle this like the friends I want you to be, like the
friends you've been with me, or you are going to kill each
other.  If you choose treatment regimen two, be sure nobody
survives or else I'm going to terminate the survivor for
killing one of my best friends.  Do you understand?"

      "Yes, Sis," Cinnamon said contritely.

      "Wynter..."

      "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

      He swallowed and nodded.

      "When you've settled this, come get the rest of us--
TOGETHER--and we'll play some more music.  If you don't
come up in one hour, we'll call Maurer's to pick up the
bodies."  She glanced at the wall clock.  "It's two-
thirteen."

      She forced herself not to slam the door behind her,
closed it properly, and stormed over to the base of the
stairs.  _Calm down!_ she ordered herself before setting
foot on the first step.  _Doctors don't get angry when
their patients act like bozos.  They stay professional._
By the time she reached to top of the stairs she'd debrided
most of the anger from her body.  She opened the door and
calmly walked through.

      "Lemonade?" Mrs. McCauley asked.  The smiling woman
was leaning against the end of the short counter next to
the stove in the "not exactly" area.  Jimmy called it that
because it wasn't exactly kitchen, wasn't exactly entrance
hall, and wasn't exactly the passage to the family room,
basement stairs, and first floor bathroom, either.  Mrs.
McCauley lifted the glass from the counter and held it out
to Wynter.

      "Thanks.  I need that."  She looked around as she
took a big swallow.

      "They're waiting for you out on the deck.  They're
discussing," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "presents."

      Wynter nodded understanding.  "Thanks."

      Mrs. McCauley gave her a wry, knowing grin.  "Been
practicing for raising my grandchildren?"

      Wynter sighed.  "Do you think they'll be like...,"
she waved a hand at the door to the basement stairs, gave
up on finding the words she wanted, and barked, "THAT?"

      "Of course.  All kids are.  Jimmy was on occasion."

      She had a sudden horrible thought.  "Do you think I
was that hard-headed when I was naughty?"

      Her reply was a shaking head.  "Unh uh.  I'm not
answering that question.  I don't want to display prior
knowledge that would get either your mother or me or both
of us in trouble."

      Wynter put her glass on the counter and gave her
Future Mother-in-Law a big hug, squeezing with both arms.
"Sometimes I think having you is better than having Jimmy,"
she said.

      Mrs. McCauley returned the squeeze.  "Only sometimes?"

      Wynter tightened her embrace and grinned.  "I don't
want to get in trouble, either."

                            ~ ~ ~

      "Would you like to sit on the couch?" Cinnamon swept
an arm toward it in invitation.

      "Yeah.  I guess."

      They sat at opposite ends, facing, but not looking
at, each other.  Cinnamon stared at the folded hands in her
lap.  "It would be best if we could say she's wrong, but
she isn't.  We're both better people than that."

      Kenny snorted as he watched a fly buzzing about the
corner of the ceiling over the door.  "Nice of you to
include me."

      "I'm serious, Kenny.  I've been in the wrong since
the day I moved here.  Every boy I knew in Boston stared at
these," she fluttered her hands at her breasts, "instead of
noticing the rest of me.  Several of them were jerks, and
you remind me a little bit of one of them, especially
around the eyes and nose.  So, I just assumed you were like
him.  Unfortunately, you proved yourself to be enough like
him from the moment we met that I never gave you a chance
to show me you were different in many ways.  In all
fairness, though, you did freak out over them from the
moment I said hello."

      "Bullshit!"

      Her anger flared again.  She forced it under control
and said in a calm voice, "Kenny!  Remember?  You were so
titty-struck when you babbled out that 'welcome to the
neighborhood' speech?  You'd still be talking if Suzie
hadn't stopped you."  She noted the first, brief change in
his eyes at the name before the second change took over and
stayed.

      Kenny's frowning face rotated to one side.  "HELLO?
EARTH TO CINNAMON!  DUH!  You were so wrapped up in winter
clothing that for all I knew, you were flatter than Wynter
and Suzie."

      She caught the oh-so-brief hesitation on the last
name, and then his words hit her like a kick in the gut.
"Oh, my God!  You couldn't see the size of my tits, could
you?  I thought they were what attracted you away from
Suzie to me when I ran up to you."

      Kenny shook his head.  "Hey, when you smiled and
waved at us from the back seat of your car, all I could see
was your face.  I didn't know if you weighed thirty pounds
or three hundred, and I didn't care.  I still didn't know
when you got out of the car in your driveway.  It was your
face and your smile and your attitude I noticed.  I didn't
notice, uh...," he waved a hand at her chest, "those until
you removed your coat in the house."

      Good Lord!  He was right!  She'd never realized it.
How could SHE, of all people, have never realized it?

      Because she'd made a false assumption and had
accepted it as fact, without trying to check its validity.
She'd judged him based on his vague resemblance to that
shithead, Buttfucker Bennie.  She hated having people judge
her based solely on her blood relationship to the drunken
bitch who spawned her and the rest of that family of
useless snobs.  Those people judged without giving her the
slightest chance to show she was different.  She'd now
proved their assessment of her was correct after all.

      "Oh, my God, Kenny.  You're right."

      "I know."  The defiance was evident, as if he'd made
a weak attempt to hide it.  Or wanted her to think he'd
tried to hide it.

      Her anger tried to flare again, but she contained it.
"But if I might defend myself in part, you didn't exactly
prove that I was completely wrong.  You ignored Suzie the
whole time."

      She watched Kenny subdue his own anger.  "I guess
so," he said with enough contrition that she decided he was
being honest.

      She didn't press the issue that he was trying to
avoid responsibility for his actions.  She'd take that much
of an admission from him.  For now.  "I guess that I
permanently sided with Suzie then.  I felt sorry for her at
the time, because I already saw the real her that most
people don't see.  I think you missed part of it, too, just
like Wynter and Jimmy did.  Can we talk seriously, without
getting mad at each other?"

      She thought he had a good scowl, though he rarely
needed it now that his martial arts reputation was growing.
He could achieve desired compliance with merely a soft word
and sometimes a cold look, the way Ron could.  But the
scowl might be useful for someone who didn't know his
reputation.

      He sighed.  "Sure," he said.  "I can."

      "Then I can, too.  I think we'd better, for Wynter's
sake.  I don't want my sister having a stroke."

      Kenny smiled.  _Good!_  She'd chosen the right path
for getting through to him.  She used the next several
minutes getting across the point that he'd hurt Suzie and
finally got him to admit that his mistake wasn't in not
allowing for the possibility that she might return early,
but that he'd betrayed her trust in him.

      He sighed, his shoulders slumping.  "Yeah, I guess
you're right about that."

      "You GUESS?"

      His eyes turned up to the ceiling.  "No."  He sighed
again.  "You're right."

      "And you're still in love with her."  It wasn't a
question, and she made sure it didn't sound like one.

      "Yeah.  Do...  Do you think I can get her back?"

      "No."  She watched tears collect in his eyes.  She
had to be honest with him, even though doing so was
breaking her heart as much as it was breaking his.  She
shrugged.  "But she might fool me.  Suzie's... well, she's
difficult to predict."

      Kenny sniffed, a soft, quick sound.  "So what do I do?"

      "Get on with your life, I guess.  Don't fuck up if
she ever gives you another chance.  Don't get mad at her,
though.  It's not HER fault, and if she sees you mad at
her, she'll think you're still blaming her."

      "I've never been mad at her," he said in a voice so
forlorn that she scooted down the couch and put a hand on
his arm.

      "I know.  But she thinks you are.  Anyway, that's
future advice.  Kenny, I'm sorry for the way I acted.  Can
we be friends?"

      A tear rolled down one cheek as he smiled at her.  He
made no attempt to wipe it away.  "A friend of mine says
you can never have too many friends.  She's actually a
pretty smart girl, so I believe her."

      They studied each other's faces for a moment, and
then hers slowly closed the distance for a brief kiss.

      "I needed that," he said with a sniff.

      She shrugged.  "That's what friends do.  They help
each other out with their needs.  If you don't believe me,
I know where you can get a second opinion you will respect."

      Kenny nodded.  Then his face crumpled and tears
gushed down both cheeks.  She held him close and joined
him.  He'd been stupid in the way he'd treated Suzie, but
she'd been just as stupid in the way she'd judged him,
overlooking the simplest facts.

      And, even worse, she'd also upset her sister and best
friend ever with the way she'd treated one of Sis's closest
friends.  One thing about the way she fucked up:  she made
a major production of that the same way she did with
everything else.  Cinnamon Anne Brees did nothing, good,
bad, or indifferent, halfway.

      She wasn't sure who recovered first.  Maybe it was
mutual recovery.

      "If it's any consolation," Kenny said, pulling his
head back but not releasing her from his arms, "you now
look terrible to me instead of beautiful."

      Her smile pushed her round cheeks up.  "That's the
nicest compliment I've ever had."

      He started to say something else, but it was cut off
when his mouth moved back to hers.  The kiss was frantic,
passionate, longing, apologetic... a world of emotions
conveyed in such a seemingly simple gesture.  Her response
was in kind.

      After several moments she released one arm and used
the hand to tug on one of his.  When he didn't resist, she
grabbed his wrist and moved his hand between them, placing
it on one of the firm mounds.  After a few more moments she
pulled the bandeau top down and let his hand roam over the
warm softness.

      He moaned with pleasure, then frowned and pulled his
face and hand back.  He looked into her eyes and shook his
head.

      Her eyes widened in amazement, and he shook his head
again.  "It's not right," he said with a firm conviction
that caused her to wonder how many of her other assumptions
about him were wrong.

      "Kenny, I think you've lost Suzie, so you wouldn't be
betraying her.  I wouldn't tell her, if that's what you're
worried about.  Besides, I guess I owe you anyway, sort of
as an apology."

      Kenny sat up straight and his eyes hardened.  "No.
You're my friend.  You don't have to use your body to pay
me an apology or anything else.  It's not right.  I'd be no
better than Matthew, and maybe worse."  His hands moved
toward her chest.  She waited.  He grasped the edge of the
top and tugged upward, covering her breasts.

      Her eyes searched his face and looked deep into the
real Kenny Taylor through his own eyes.  "I was right.  I
did misjudge you.  Okay.  Well, since we're friends, how
about a nice friendly quickie right here on the couch."

      Kenny frowned and released her from his embrace.
"You're kidding.  Or is it a test?  Well, I pass.  No."

      "It's not a test, Kenny.  It's a sincere offer of
friendship, one that puts you on an equal footing with
Huntly and Finnegan and Jimmy and..."

      "Hey, you'll never get Jimmy," he said.

      "I know.  But the offer is still open to him as long
as Sis doesn't object.  And it's open to you because, well,
let's say because nobody objects now."

      He stared at her for a long moment and then sniffed
again.  "After the mine, when Ron said he no longer needed
to be my guardian Angel, I sorta took over the role to
protect Wynter and Jimmy and," he sniffed again, "Suzie."
He gave her a wry grin.  "I had to be their guardian Angel
because Suzie said that 'guardian Kenny' sounded as stupid
as 'guardian Kevin' did."

      She took his hands in hers.  He didn't resist.
"That's why you had Ron teach you martial arts?"

      He nodded.  "Yeah.  And now that you're Wynter's
sister, I'm your guardian Angel, too, though Matthew might
say that you don't need me."

      Her smile pushed her round cheeks up.  If he was
fishing for information, and she didn't think he was, that
was all the response he would get.

      "So, as your guardian Angel, I can't let you do
something you don't want to just because you feel guilty."

      He didn't believe her.

      She couldn't fault him.  It was the logical
conclusion.  "I do feel guilty, but that's not the reason.
You said that it's not right to use my body as an article
of commerce to assuage my feelings of guilt."  She suddenly
turned sheepish.  "Sorry.  Kennedy blood.  Sometimes I
start paraphrasing Grandfather Grenville's pompous speeches
at the holiday dinner table."

      "Hey, the way you say it sounds good.  Much better
than him, I'll bet."

      "Thanks.  Kenny, that day I let you chase me naked
around your room, back when I was trying to find out why
you and Suzie had split the first time, I wasn't planning
on letting you do me.  But I got interested.  If Jimmy
hadn't interrupted, I might have let you.  He asked if I
was going to, and I really wasn't sure.  If Charlie hadn't
burst in and killed the moment, I actually might have,
though I knew it was the wrong thing to do."  She sighed.
"Then I might have betrayed Suzie, too."

      Her head tilted sideways as she shook it.  "But
that's not an issue now, and my curiosity's aroused again.
Well, my curiosity's not all that's aroused.  I'm probably
soaking through my shorts and staining the seat cushion.  I
wouldn't get this wet if it was just guilty submission like
you think."

      "Well..."  Indecision reflected in the faint changes
of his expression.  "They might come back."

      She glanced at the wall clock and shook her head.
"According to Wynter, we still have twenty-five minutes
before they'll check on us.  Sis is nothing if not precise."

      Half of one of those minutes passed before he nodded.
"But if you aren't as wet as you say, I'm going to be very
upset because my friend lied to me."

      "Deal."  She squeezed his hands and pulled them to
her chest.

      The patented shit-eating grin slid smoothly into
place, almost as smoothly as his Rigid Rod of Formidable
Friendship slid into its place.

      Cinnamon had just enough time to chuckle at his name
for it before her first orgasm swept through her.

      Her third was almost simultaneous with his.  She held
him through their final shudders of pleasure.  What he
lacked in size, he made up for in technique.  She certainly
was pleased with the results.  No wonder Suzie had always
been satisfied with him.

      Kenny lifted his cheek away from hers and kissed her.
"Best quickie I've ever had," he said.  "Maybe it's because
it was with a friend."

      She squeezed her muscles, causing his flaccid wiener
to shoot out of her shaved goodie box and most of his wad
to trickle down her crack.  "Shit," she muttered.  "That
wasn't what I wanted to happen."

      "Our time's about up anyway."  He rose to his feet
and stared down at her in appreciation.  "Damn.  I hope you
don't mind if I stare for a moment."

      She grinned with one corner of her mouth.  "Are you
staring at my tits?"

      "Babe, I'm staring at EVERYTHING!"

      She wondered if that was supposed to be Bogart or
Cary Grant.  It was far worse than Jimmy's John Wayne,
which was at least recognizable.  "Okay," she said, shaking
a finger in warning.  "As long as it's not just my tits."

      She let him look for a few breaths, spreading her
legs to let him get a good view of her shaved goodie box
and the mess they had made together.  She rose on one elbow
to suck him clean, then held out a hand for assistance.
She looked down after she was on her feet.  "Oh, damn it!
We got cum on the seat cushion."

      Kenny shrugged.  "We'll just flip it over."

      "Good plan!"

      "I know.  I'm full of good ideas."

      "Oh, you're full of it, all right."

      Kenny just grinned in a friendly manner.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Wynter's anxiety disorder fled when Sis and Kenny,
holding lemonade glasses and each with an arm around the
other's waist, squeezed through the patio door opening.
She was VERY impressed by the smooth way Huntly scooped the
papers together, hiding the music sheets they had been
discussing.

      "Hey!" Hailey crowed.  "This is, like, the BEST!  I
SO did NOT want to, like, go to another funeral while I was
here!"

      Kenny gave her a look of disdain as Sis said, "My
friend and I want to apologize to all of you."

      Mister McCauley rose to his feet.  "On behalf of all
of the younger persons present, I both accept the apology
and formally echo the sentiments expressed by the cutest
brunette present."

      Huntly straightened.  "I didn't say anything."

      Cinnamon snorted.  "He said brunette, shithead.  Your
hair is shitty brindle."

      Huntly's jaw dropped and his face took on a look of
abject horror.  "When did Mom tell you that, bitch?"

      The little redhead gave him an evil grin.  "That'll
teach you not to go play catch with your and Wynter's and
Kenny's dads and leave us alone together."

      "Well, MY hair's brown," Kenny said.

      "Yeah," Sis admitted.  Wynter noted with pleasure the
way Sis squeezed his waist with her arm.  "Are you saying
you're cuter than Hailey."

      Kenny started to say something, then snapped his head
around to look at Jimmy, as if he'd heard Jimmy's thoughts
of a response.  "No.  NO!  I'm definitely good looking--
devilishly handsome, in fact--but not 'cute.'"

      "Somebody get me some hip waders," LaMarcus wailed.
"It's gettin' deep."

      Sis nodded at the stack of papers in front of Huntly.
"What's that?"

      "Music," Wynter said in a dismissive tone before
anyone else could speak.  "Huntly and Jimmy's dad speak
guitar music, but I don't.  Some music chords for guitar
aren't written quite the same as the chords for keyboards,
so they were showing me some differences."  Technically,
that was the truth.  Part of it, anyway.  "Personally, I
think it's easier to understand neurology.  So, did you two
kiss and make up, or is this just an act to keep me from
getting mad again?  It better not be the second one."

      "No WAY is it an act!" Kenny said in a rush.  "You
know how Ron's afraid of Nurse Carter?  I think he should
be more afraid of you!"

      "Good."  She rose to her feet.  "I didn't like that
any more than I liked having to chastise Daddy in the
hospital.  DON'T make me have to do that again.  Okay?"

      When they both agreed, she gave each a kiss.  She
thought the way that they still held each other meant that
they really and truly were serious.

      Hailey moved up when Wynter stepped back.  "Hey!  I
SO agree with my new sister, so no more of the drama.
Okay?"  She shoved her tongue down Kenny's throat and then
gave her cousin a kiss only slightly less passionate,
though much briefer.

      Hailey stepped back and smacked her lips twice.
"Hey!  Cuz, you taste like..."

      "WHITNEY GWYNETH!  YOU'RE OUT OF LINE!"

                            ~ ~ ~

      Huntly accepted the glass from Mister King and
hurried down the steps to the patio door.  Wynter, wearing
the pink and white bikini that he thought looked so
wonderful on her, pointedly looked at her watch as he
emerged, put on a scowl, and said, "It's twelve-forty.
You're late for your medical appointment."

      Ghost and Dragon raced up to him, His Ghostness
winning, of course.  "Not at all, Doctor Cutie," he said as
he gave the two animals some ear scratches.  "I am on time.
My mother, however, is not.  You know how she is.  She
insisted on driving me here since, 'I'm going that way
anyhow,' and she thought it would be better for my knee.
And then she got distracted by a couple of long-winded
phone calls."

      He paused to kiss Cinnamon and Hailey, made
appreciative comments about the bikinis they were almost
wearing, then sat between them at the picnic table as he
greeted Jimmy.  "Some days she's the second most organized
woman I know, after you, and other days she's worse than
Hailey."

      "Hey!  Like, what do you mean, worse than me?"

      Wynter couldn't hold back the giggle.  "Quiet, Sis
Two.  Okay, you're forgiven.  We've already listened to the
rest of the CD while waiting for you.  Have you heard it?"

      Huntly shook his head while he swallowed and put his
lemonade glass on the table.  "Hunh uh.  I found just the
one song on MP3.  'The Magic Harp.'"

      "Oh, the second one's great for Jimmy and me!  It's
'Message from Pegasus.'  I think he should play the piano
while I do the keyboards, but he said I should have the
piano part."

      He wasn't aware that he'd given any clue at all, but
Cinnamon's head suddenly snapped around.  Her eyes narrowed
and her head tilted sideways slightly.  As she stared
without blinking he tried to act as if he hadn't noticed
that she was suddenly studying him with her characteristic
analytical intensity.

      "It doesn't have a guitar part," Jimmy said, "but
'Pharaoh's Return' does.  It has a long improv solo in the
middle.  Cinnamon and I think you wouldn't have any problem
with it, especially with your birthday present."

      He glanced at Cinnamon.  She was back to normal now,
or as normal as the little redhead was capable of being.
"I'll have to listen to it," he said.

      After five minutes of discussing other music, Wynter
rose and handed out tubes of SPF-45 sun screen, then
pointed at a roll of blankets off to one side.  "I thought
we'd use these instead of fighting over the lawn chairs.
You he-men can carry them out to the yard and unroll them."

      "No," Cinnamon countermanded, placing a hand on
Huntly's arm to hold him in his seat.  "The three of you do
that.  I want to have a word with shithead.  Alone."

      Nobody argued.  They all knew that tone.  When they
were clear of the patio, he looked at her inscrutable
expression.  "What's up, bitch?"

      She folded her arms below the round breasts that wore
what he thought of as nipple patches tied down with
strings.  She frowned and asked, "Are you as stupid as I
think you are?"

      He knew it was no use playing dumb.  He understood
her meaning and she knew it.  He sighed.  "No," he said,
shaking his head slightly.  "I know better.  Half the guys
in school are in love with her, you know.  But most of us
know that none of us have a chance with her except Jimmy."

      Her expression softened into what he'd call pity
coming from anyone else.  "I understand," she said in a
voice so tender that it seemed incongruous with what he
knew of her.  "That knowledge doesn't make your pain any
easier, does it?"

      He shook his head, waiting until he was sure of his
voice.  "No.  But you do."

      "Me?"  She seemed genuinely surprised.

      "Yeah, you.  Good grief, Cinnamon.  You at least let
me pretend that I have a chance with you.  I can't even do
that with Wynter."

      She searched his eyes.  "There's always Hailey."

      He tried to smirk, but he couldn't, not when she was
being this genuinely sweet.  Instead, he gave her a gentle
smile and said, "There's always Kenny.  He seemed useful
for you as a substitute at rehearsal yesterday.  I saw that
post-orgasmic look in your eyes.  I've had a lot of
experience seeing it, you know."

      The startled surprise lasted barely an eye-blink.
"Yes.  I get your point.  You know my secret feelings, too,
huh?"

      He shook his head.  "Hey!  It's me!  Of course I
know.  Do you think I'm in that two percent of the school
who doesn't?  You aren't exactly subtle about it, even if
you're not Alyssa, ga-ga moon-struck while sitting butt-to-
butt with him during the talent show rehearsals.  You
always make me feel special when I'm down about not being
in the running for Wynter.  I try my best to do the same
for you when you're down about not being in the running for
Jimmy."

      Her eyes hardened.  "Are you saying you pity-fuck me?"

      His head slowly twisted side-to-side.  "Of course
not.  Do you pity-fuck me?  I do you for two reasons."  He
raised his left hand and used his right to enclose fingers
as he counted.  "Two, because I'm horny.  B, because you're
number one on my list of preferred alternate choices.  And
one, because I enjoy you."

      "Yeah?  Which part do you enjoy most, the blow jobs
or the fucking?"

      He shook his head, in part because he couldn't
believe the size of her blind spot.  "The part where it's
you and me together, whether we're doing the horizontal
mambo or we're doing geography homework.  Whether we're
searching for throat blockages or we're sitting in your
gazebo betting potato chips on whether Ghost will brake
before he chases the rabbit into the mini-forest trees.
Whether you're almost wearing this or you're bundled up
like an Eskimo in a blizzard."

      She frowned in genuine puzzlement, a look he rarely
saw when she was observing him.  Finally the truth stopped
eluding her grasp, and her eyes widened with comprehension.
"Are you saying...?"

      "Yes.  Just because I'm in love with Wynter doesn't
mean I don't have room inside for someone else."

      "You... you mean that?"  After he nodded, she blinked
a few times, then locked her arms around his neck.  When
she finally came up for air she was grinning like a brain-
addled hyena.  "How'd you like to fuck me right now, right
here, on this picnic table?"

      He looked at the table, then at the patio door.  "I'd
love it, but I'm not sure Wynter's parents would be all
that thrilled."

      "Then you come home with me afterward and I'll make
you unable to walk, and I'll do it without screwing up your
knee."

      "What about Hailey?"

      "Cuz?  Well, okay.  Sure!  She'd love to join us.  We
both love threesomes!"

      _Good grief.  She missed the blasted point.  She
thinks...  HOLY SHIT!  And she's SERIOUS!  Aw, damn.  Now
how do I get to the blankets with my swimming trunks making
like a circus tent?_

                            ~ ~ ~

      Wynter turned off her shower.  "That SPF-45 cream
sure is hard to remove," she observed.

      "Yeah," said Huntly as he continued scrubbing one of
Hailey's arms.  "They should make it water soluble."

      Jimmy imitated Kenny's weird voice.  "HELLO?  EARTH
TO HUNTLY!  DUH!  If it were water soluble, then you'd
sweat it off in no time."

      "I guess.  Okay, my exotic little wahine, rinse."

      "So what about this new magic trick?"Jimmy asked
while Hailey stepped back under her shower head.  You said
you'd show us after we showered."

      "Patience, Jimbo," he said without taking his eyes
off Sis Two.  "How's that?"

      Hailey nodded and threw her arms around him.
"Thanks."  She checked for a reversion of his tonsillectomy.

      "Enough of that," Huntly said.  "I'd love to
continue, but Doctor Cutie's boyfriend is getting grumpy in
his old age.  I need to prepare for a moment.  Don't get in
the tub yet."

      Huntly gave both Sis One and Sis Two a kiss before he
left, briefly wiping with a towel before grabbing his gym
bag and disappearing out the tub room door.  Wynter thought
Sis One got the better of the two kisses, but she guessed
that was because Hailey had just performed the tonsil
search procedure.

      Jimmy extended an elbow to Wynter.  She took his arm.
Before they could move, Hailey hooked her hand around the
crook of his other elbow.  "Hey!  Let's go," she said.

      "Well, I'm left out!" Cinnamon whined in a petulant
voice that almost made Wynter giggle.

      Hailey looked down.  "Okay.  Here, Cuz.  You take his
arm and I'll hold..."

      "NO!" he cried, causing Wynter to laugh.

      Hailey threw up her hands.  "Hey!  I'm just SO trying
to help out your other Future Sister-in-Law, you know!
Just try and, like, do a good deed around here and see what
happens."

      Sis One led them out of the showers and halted beside
the hot tub.  "Do all of us wait out of the tub or just Cuz?"

      Before they could answer, Huntly returned, carrying
an opaque green plastic bowl.  "Okay.  You three wait
there.  Hailey, over here and face the others at a forty-
five degree angle.  Make an 'L' with your left arm, fist up."

      When he had her positioned the way he wanted he
turned and held up his hands.  "Nothing up my sleeve," he
said, causing everyone to groan.  The little redhead added,
"How would we know, shithead?  Your sleeves are over there
on the hook with the rest of your shirt."

      "Quiet, bitch. Now, to continue I need a quarter.
Any of you have one on you?"

      "I have one in my shorts," Jimmy said, turning toward
the clothes hooks.  Huntly stopped him before he could take
a step.

      "That's okay.  I can get it from here."  He faced the
clothes hooks, made a couple of passes with his empty
hands, and chanted, "These are my words.  They're an order.
Come to me, now, Jimbo's quarter!"  He spun his right hand
in a circle and a quarter appeared, clutched in his
fingertips by the bottom edge.

      "Hey!  That SO doesn't rhyme."

      "Beautiful sexy assistants should be seen and not
heard.  Now:  every election we hear about yet another
ballot attempt to expand limited stakes gambling to allow
casinos in places other than Blackhawk, Leadville, and
Central City.  Some people say gambling should be allowed
everywhere in the state.  I submit to you than any time
fellows take girls on a date, we ARE gambling everywhere in
the state."

      He shook the coin at them.  "Every quarter we invest
in them comes with an expectation of a certain payout at
the end of the date, according to that expert on women and
economics, Uncle Bozo Junior."  He nodded at Wynter, as if
acknowledging her invention of Kenny's nickname.  "What I
propose is to avoid having to wait until the end of the
date to see if you're going to get a return on your
investment."

      His hand flinched, then displayed the quarter held
upright by the edges within the "C" of his index finger and
thumb.  "Like this."  He inserted the coin into Hailey's
ear, then pulled down on her arm and returned it to its
original position.

      Wynter's hand squeezed Jimmy's back as Huntly placed
his hand between Hailey's legs, palm up against her vaginal
region.  Or, in this case, it would be appropriate to say
against her slot.

      "Some guys will do anything to cop a feel," Jimmy
sighed.

      Huntly ignored him.  Wynter heard a metallic clinking
sound, and then Huntly held the bowl at Hailey's knee level
below his hand.  Quarters cascaded down into it.  He kissed
her.  "My kind of woman!" he crowed.

      "Shithead," Sis One growled in a disdainful tone.

      "Now let's see what happens when we replace my kind
of woman with a bitch."  He thanked Hailey, gave her
another kiss, and dismissed her with a pat on the butt.  He
beckoned at Sis One.  She stepped forward and assumed the
pose without direction as Hailey wiggled over and scooted
up against Jimmy's other side.

      Jimmy groaned softly, but Wynter smiled and leaned
her head against his shoulder.  Sis One wasn't fooling her
with that disdainful expression.  Her eyes told Wynter and
everyone else that she was eager to see what Huntly had
planned for her.

      Huntly's hand spun, producing a quarter.  He inserted
it into her ear, pumped her arm, and shoved his hand
between Cinnamon's legs.  "Aha!  She works!" he said and
shoved the bowl beneath his hand.

      A single quarter tumbled into it.

      He grunted.  "Well," he said, "now we know.  She's a
bad investment, though I did get your quarter back, Jimbo."

      He tried to kiss her, but the little redhead pulled
back.  "I'm a bad investment, remember?"

      "You're right."  He pushed her aside and opened his
arms.  "Wahine?"

      Sis Two sprang away from Jimmy, stepped into Huntly's
arms, and kissed him.

      "Well, shit.  That didn't work," Cinnamon said with a
rueful expression that made everyone else laugh.

      Jimmy squeezed Wynter and held out his hand.  "What
about my quarter?"

      Apparently that was expected.  One hand flicked and
conjured a coin.  Huntly grinned at Jimmy.  "Coin of
Jimbo's, before he rants, fly thee hither to his pants."
His hand jerked toward the clothes hooks and was empty.

      Wynter grinned at Huntly.  "Well, I liked it if
nobody else will admit it.  Shall we get to your knee
treatment now, or do you want to just stand around
squeezing Hailey?"

      "Gee, it's a tough choice, but you win, Doc.  Sorry,
Hailey."

      After Wynter had his knee positioned by the water
jet, Cinnamon crawled into his lap and Hailey pressed up
against his right side.  While they held a whispered
conversation, Wynter took Jimmy's hand and squeezed it.
They murmured love words to each other and relaxed.  After
getting lost in his green eyes for a while, she looked at
the smiling faces of her two sisters.  Startled by what she
saw, she focused on Huntly's.

      _No!  They all look like they're planning to..._

      The little redhead turned her dreamy face to Wynter,
widened her smile, and nodded slightly.  _BOTH of them with
Huntly?  Together?  Wouldn't THAT freak out Jimmy if he
knew._

      Huntly sighed, unaware of the conversation about him
that had occurred in the silence.  "You know, your
Doctorness, the bad news about my knee getting better is
that the end of my massage sessions is now in sight."

      Wynter shrugged.  "Well, instead of therapeutic
massages, maybe we'll put you on a schedule of preventive
maintenance."

      Jimmy's head rolled to look at her with so much love
in his eyes that her heart swelled in her chest.  "No
offense meant toward your sisters," he said in a gentle
voice, "but I think that a girlfriend as caring and as
compassionate as you is the best investment ever."

                            ~ ~ ~

      Juan Rodrigo De Ramirez y Sanchez's eyes glanced
furtively around the convenience store.  He'd just as soon
knock it over for a few quick bucks, just to prove he could
still do it after several years, but it was equipped with
security cameras.  He didn't want anyone alerted to his
presence back in the state.  His fingers caressed the
outline of the switchblade in his jeans pocket.  He had
things to do first, and Taggart was at the top of his list.
He suspected that gringo maricon had somehow been involved
in his bust up in the mountains, though it was mildly
possible that Kaczynski had done it.  Didn't matter.  He
planned to eliminate both.

      It was his own fault for breaking his rule about
doing business with gringos.  _Madre de Dios_, he'd even
trusted that _poco maricon_ to find Angelo Ramada for him,
and the karate-kicking _bastardo_ had set him up.  He'd
deal with Taggart first, then run up to Denver and deal
with Kaczynski next before heading for the mountains.  It
was hard enough finding Taggart as it was.  If Kaczynski's
death occurred first, he might never find Taggart.

      He scratched at his neck as he made his way back to
the coffee area, eyes still darting about.  Damned new
beard itched, but he needed it for the disguise.

      _Madre de Dios!_  In a security mirror he saw a state
cop enter and head directly toward him.  The _maricon_
probably was just looking for coffee, but De Ramirez
recognized the man from a drunk and disorderly run-in a
couple of years back.  He'd almost been busted then.  He
couldn't afford the possibility of the _bastardo_
recognizing him.  His hand slid into the pocket with the
switchblade while he pretended that he didn't see what he
wanted and moved on.

      He was right.  The cop was after coffee.  But he
couldn't afford for their paths to cross if the cop wanted
something else, and he couldn't afford to act as if he was
trying to avoid notice.  He quickly left and ran to where
he'd parked around the corner of the building.

      A attractive young woman and a girl turned the corner
in front of him just as he reached it.  Unable to stop, he
crashed into them, sending all three sprawling to the
sidewalk in front of his car.  He jumped to his feet,
sprang forward, and slid over his car's hood, bouncing off
the car next to his.  As he reached for the door handle the
brunette, still on the ground, assaulted him with a string
of inventive curses.

      The young redhead sprang to her feet, face red with
rage, and slammed her right foot onto the sidewalk.  "WHY
DON'T YOU WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, YOU STUPID DOLT!"



Twenty One

      Suzie sat at the card table and shook her head at the
stupid Ace bandage around her left wrist.  She guessed it
could have been a lot worse or something, but that didn't
help her feel any better.  The wrist wasn't broken.  It
wasn't even a bad sprain, but the nurse thought it would be
best not to put any strain on it for a couple of days.  She
was sure that the only reason for the bandage was to make
sure she stayed out of the pool.

      Sure, she didn't HAVE to get in the stupid water as a
coach, especially with the older girl campers and the other
student coaches she was teaching, but being in the pool
herself was the best way to teach the younger girls she was
in charge of.  So, thanks to that stupid dolt, she wouldn't
be able to do her best for her group.  She hoped he got
some stupid jock itch so bad that the only way to cure it
was imputation.

      This sure as heck wasn't what she'd had in mind when
she'd asked Jennifer to take her to Citadel Mall to shop
for Cinnamon's birthday present.  She guessed that made it
partly her fault, too, since both the present and the
engraving and the stopping for a Slurpee on the way back
were all her ideas.  After Wynter told her about the song
they were recording for Cinnamon, the idea for the present
just sort of exploded in her head or something.  Getting
something special for Cinnamon was worth the wrist, if not
for not being able to help her group.  But she was sorry
that Jennifer had been hurt, too.

      She looked up when Jennifer entered their room and
put her toothbrush and toothpaste on the shelf.  Then her
roommate stopped beside her, turned her back, and pulled
the top of her panties down.

      "Suzie, what do you think?"

      Suzie giggled.  "I hope my butt looks that good when
I get old like you."

      Jennifer pretended to be mad.  "I meant the bruise!"
She'd landed hard on her butt when the stupid dolt ran into
them, unlike Suzie who'd partially caught herself with one
hand before landing on her butt.  All Suzie got was the
stupid sprain and no stupid bruise.

      "Well, no, I don't want mine to have a stupid giant
bruise like that."

      Jennifer pulled up her panties and faced Suzie.
"How'd you like to have the other arm in a sling?" she
asked, shaking her pointing finger at it.

      Suzie saw her trying not to laugh, and she giggled
again.  "I hope you aren't planning on wearing a thong,"
she said.  "Or a French-cut bikini."

      Jennifer's shoulders dropped.  "That's what I was
afraid of.  Actually, I had been thinking about going to
San Diego after camp and spending a week on the beach."

      Suzie shook her head.  "Well, if you want to shop for
guys, I'd wait a couple of months, until it goes away."

      Jennifer sat down, carefully.  "By then school will
have started."

      "Yeah.  But you'll want to get away from the early
snows, won't you?"

      "Wait a minute."  Jennifer crossed her arms and
leaned back, frowning in suspiciousness.  "Who'd coach the
team while I was gone?"

      Suzie just grinned and said nothing.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Jimmy noted the concern in Wynter's voice when she
wailed, "Oh, NO!  Is it broken?  Is she all right?"

      All conversation in the practice room stopped, and
everyone looked at the door.  Wynter was on the telephone
in the hall.  The obvious conclusion was that her father
had been in another wreck.  They relaxed but remained in
quite listening mode when they heard, "Well, that's a
relief.  Too bad you aren't there to kiss it and make it
better.  Is Miss Jackson okay, too?"

      "Well, now we know who got hurt," Huntly murmured.

      "Yeah," agreed LaMarcus with a frown.  "Man, I hope
it's not serious.  She was having such a good time there
from what all of you have told me. I wonder what happened.
Swimming accident, maybe?"

      "Probably," Jimmy's dad agreed.  "Some camper
probably swam into her.  Or jumped off the edge and landed
on her.  That happened to my brother Jim."

      "You talking about Suzie?" Guy Malone asked as he put
his sticks in the holder.

      Jimmy realized that Guy was unaware of Suzie's
selection as a student coach.  "Yeah," he said and quickly
briefed Guy, finishing as Wynter returned.

      "That was Josh.  Some bozo running down a sidewalk
knocked down Suzie and Miss Jackson.  Both are okay, but
Suzie has a mild muscle strain in her left wrist.  It's
been immobilized as a precaution for two to three days to
keep her from making it worse.  Miss Jackson has a huge
bruise on her left gluteus maximus, but she's otherwise
okay, too."

      "Sooo...." Huntly drawled, causing Jimmy to brace for
whatever wiseass comment was clearly on the boy's mind.  "I
assume your 'kiss it and make it better' comment was about
Suzie's wrist?"

      Jimmy realized Wynter had been concentrating on
Suzie's medical condition and hadn't picked  up the
implication in the tone of Huntly's voice because she said,
"Yeah.  She and Josh are becoming an item."

      "Yes, I know," Huntly grinned.  "And that leaves me
free to kiss Miss Jackson's bruise and make it better."

      "HUNTLY!"  Jimmy wondered if his voice had sounded as
shrill to everyone else as it had to himself.  He gave his
father a nervous glance.

      His father ignored him and grinned at Huntly.  "She
does have a nice butt, doesn't she?"

      "Amen and hallelujah!" said LaMarcus, slapping the
body of his bass below the strings.  "Easily one of the top
five in the whole town.  Top three!"

      "Man, I'll say," agreed Guy with a vigorous nod.  "I
ran into her at a Florida beach two summers ago.  You
should see it in the thong she wears when she's away from
here.  It's gorgeous!"

      Dad grinned.  "I'd love to.  What do you think, son?"
He raised his eyebrows at Jimmy.

      Jimmy tried to stammer out an answer.  He glanced at
Wynter for help, but she crossed her arms and smiled.
"Yeah.  What do you think?"

      He saw the hint of mischief in her eyes and
remembered his father's comments during their man-to-man
talk.  He glanced at Huntly, who raised an eyebrow, Spock-
fashion.  "We all want to know your fascinating opinion,
Jimbo."

      "W... well, I... uh..."

      Everybody--EVERYBODY--grinned at his discomfort.  He
swallowed hard and decided he'd not accommodate the
sadists, including his girlfriend.  "Well, I guess she's
got the best one of all the teachers."

      Huntly glanced at Dad.  "I guess we know now that
he's not a fag."  Then he grinned at Jimmy.  "But what
about the rest of the school?  How does hers compare to the
students'?"

      "Especially the ones on the swim team," LaMarcus
said.  "I think swimming helps shape them up.  Ever notice
how all of the team have nice butts?"

      "Yeah," Huntly said.  "Especially Suzie and Megan and
Ashley."  The others, including his Future Wife, nodded and
murmured agreement.

      Jimmy gaped incredulously at Wynter, who was slowly
losing a fight to keep from laughing.  He had an evil
thought and returned his stare to Huntly, deciding he
should ignore Dad.  If that was a mistake, well, he'd just
have to catch heck later.  "Well, unlike you, I do think
Miss Jackson's is better than Peter's or Josh's."

      Huntly was unfazed.  "Whoa-ho!  Maybe I was hasty,
Mister Mac.  Not nicer than Jeremy Lefave's, eh, Jimbo?"
One of the rumors around the school was that Jeremy was a
faggot, but it was one of the many that had as their
foundation nothing more than the fact that someone else had
said it.

      Jimmy shrugged.  "I wouldn't want to intrude on YOUR
territory, Huntly."

      Wynter finally came to his rescue.  "All right, you
two.  Don't make me run everybody else out of here and
lecture you!"  She looked at her watch, ignoring the clock
on the wall in front of her.  "We have a little over two
hours before Mrs. Vasquez returns with Sis and then who
knows how long before she starts looking for us.  It's
already Wednesday.  We have a lot of work to do before we
can record this on Saturday."

      "Yes, dear," Dad said.  Jimmy thought it sounded an
awful lot like the way he said it to Mom.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Wynter decided it really wasn't a fib as much as it
was like reassuring a scared terminal patient that she was
doing as well as could be expected under the circumstances.
None of them had said that they were going to Denver,
instead giving other destinations to keep Sis One from
suspecting any collusion and ultimate goals, and thus
spoiling a surprise that she would like when it occurred.
So, it wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a fib, either.  Was
it?

      Mrs. Vasquez had contrived a reason to take Cinnamon
to Grand Junction for the day, while Hailey had opted to
accompany Wynter "to Grandpa Wolfe's."  Cinnamon, of all
people, would understand that choice without explanation
because of the way she, too, loved him.

      Grandpa had been instructed to check the caller ID
before answering the phone and to let it ring if it was
from Cinnamon.  That way, Sis would think everyone was out
seeing the town.  Grandpa loved Sis as much as he did
Wynter.  He'd have jumped off the roof if it had been
necessary so that everyone could prepare the little
redhead's birthday present.

      Alan Berry, a recording engineer, held a door open
and invited everyone to move into a room.  Mister Berry
seemed like a nice man.  Wynter was sure that she wasn't
assuming that just because of the way he'd reacted to being
in the presence of three of the Hargus Four.

      Wynter didn't know what she'd expected for a
recording studio, but it sure wasn't this.  Except for the
nice reception area and offices out front, it was more like
the back rooms in Mister McKeown's hardware store.  But she
didn't worry about it because Hailey had arranged with Alex
O'Connor, Cinnamon's talent scout friend in Boston and New
York, for the best studio in Denver, and this was what he'd
selected.  As his contribution to Sis's birthday present,
Mister O'Connor was paying for the use of the studio.
Wynter knew that Mister O'Connor always watched out for Sis
and her best friends, as well as for his newest bass-
playing discovery.

      Huntly and Guy were already there, having brought
Cinnamon's practice kit down earlier that morning.  They
were mounting the cymbals when the rest of the band
arrived.  They waved at the group from behind a large window.

      Mister Berry, whom Hailey had declared major cute,
indicated the recording equipment with a hand wave and
explained the procedures for the recording session.  Wynter
had to agree with Hailey's diagnosis of Mister Berry's
looks and was glad that they'd brought Kenny along for
Hailey Control Duty, even though Sis Two was in the fourth
day of her menstrual cycle.

      "And then," Mister Berry said in conclusion, "we mix
the tracks in the next room."  He pointed at a side wall,
then gave Finnegan a curious look before shifting his
attention to Mister McCauley.  "You sure you want him to do
the mixing?"

      Wynter placed a hand on Finnegan's shoulder as a
reminder to be nice.  She'd seen his rapid inhalation and
realized he was about to shout at Mister Berry.

      "With your supervision, of course," Mister McCauley
said.  "You'll be a team.  He knows our sound, and you
don't.  You know your equipment, but he doesn't because he
built his own mixing board."

      Mister Berry looked at Finnegan.  Condescension
fought with admiration in his face.  "Built your own mixer?"

      "Yeah."  Finnegan rattled off a list of deficiencies
with the boards locally available and then the
specifications of the board he built.

      All condescension vanished and he said, "I need to
talk with you later."  Then he said to Mister McCauley,
"I've heard stories about the kids around Wizard Ski Basin,
but I thought it was just tall tales."

      "No, it's definitely true.  My Future Daughter-in-Law
here, and the hospital director's son there, sometimes make
rounds with the doctors in the hospital.  At least three
doctors are already trying to influence Wynter into
specializing in their areas.  And together they saved a
kid's life a week ago today."

      Mister Berry looked incredulous.  "No way."

      "Way!" Hailey said with an emphatic nod.  "Hey!  I
was there.  And Sis here has assisted Uncle Mitch the OB
in, like, two deliveries so far."

      Mister McCauley nodded verification at the question
in Mister Berry's face.  "Not only that, the idea for this
song didn't exist until Sunday.  They've written and
polished it in that time."

      "No, that can't be," Mister Berry said.  He'd heard
the CD Finnegan had recorded the night before and brought
along in case the engineer needed it as a guide.

      "My input was minimal.  Jimmy and Huntly composed it
based on a rhythm Guy invented Sunday afternoon."

      Wynter wasn't sure that was entirely the truth.
Something made her think that the idea, perhaps
subconsciously, and been kicking around inside Huntly's
head for a while.  And after he'd chosen one of Guy's
rhythm patterns, he'd changed it somewhat.  Of course, it
could have happened the way Mister McCauley described it.
She didn't know for sure, and she decided she didn't want
to know.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Alan Berry had been suitably impressed when the lead
guitarist had produced the high-end Jackson guitar.  He'd
been even more impressed by the way the thirteen-year-old
had played it.  But when the bass player recorded his
track, Berry was overwhelmed with sheer envy.  Such talent
only a few dozen miles away.  But instead of his finding
it, the discovery had been made by some feather merchant
back east.

      Berry decided that he needed to spend more time in
the mountains, especially during local music festivals.
Not the Winter Park Jazz Festival.  Oh, no.  Everyone went
to that.  More time at the smaller fests.  Maybe he could
discover someone as good as this Hayes kid.  Just one
client like that and he could make more money as an agent
than as a recording engineer.

      But he damned sure couldn't make any money by
registering patents for the funny looking kid's excellent
modifications of the sound equipment under his own name.
Why did the kid have to be the son of a lawyer?

                            ~ ~ ~

      Jimmy felt the gentle squeeze of Wynter's hand on his
back.  He wanted to laugh at the expression on Mister
Berry's face, but that would have been too impolite.

      "What I mean by 'I'm done,'" Finnegan replied in a
taut measured voice as he set his headphones on the edge of
the console, "is that it's mixed and ready to burn to disk.
If you don't believe me, play it for everybody and ask them."

      Mister Berry closed his mouth and pushed a button.
'Cinnamon Sticks' filled the room.  When it ended, even he
had to admit it was well-done.  "Of course," he said, "if
it had been me I'd have boosted..."

      "And then it wouldn't have sounded like Junior and
the Twins," Finnegan snapped in a sharp voice.

      Mister Berry surveyed the faces in the crowded room
and conceded the point.  "We can print the title on the
disk for you," he began.

      "We know," Jimmy said, pulling a thumb drive out of
his pocket.  "Here's our art work.  I wasn't sure what
format you needed, so I saved it in several different ones.
It's sized to fit on the disk."

      Mister Berry almost concealed his surprise, then led
them to another room.  He plugged the device into a
computer and pulled up one of the images.  "_Holy shit!_"
he whispered.

      Jimmy smiled at Wynter.  "This is the painting's
artist," he said.  "All I did was add the other stuff for
the label."

      In addition to the birthday present disk for
Cinnamon, Mister Berry made copies for all the other
members of the band plus the two guest artists, the mixing
board operator, and the cousin.  Everyone, including Mister
Berry, promised that nobody would play any copies until
Cinnamon had received her birthday present from Huntly and
the band.

      When all the instruments, especially Cinnamon's
practice kit, had been safely loaded into the truck and
secured for the return trip, Jimmy checked his watch.
"Thirty minutes earlier than we'd planned," he said.
"That's good."

      Dad ruffled his hair.  "Do you realize just how good
today really went?  Berry will be talking about this day to
his grandchildren."

                            ~ ~ ~

      FUCK!

      All Suzie wanted was a few minutes alone with Josh,
but his sister obviously knew that and wasn't about to let
them have any stupid privacy despite the best efforts of
Mrs. Carter to get Lori away.  The stupid girl kept
returning as soon as her mother's back was distracted or
something.  Then she remembered something Jennifer had told
her about a pesty young cousin.

      "You know, Josh," she said with a wink and a flick of
her eyes to Lori as they browsed through the shoe section
of the Wal-Mart store, "I'm really looking forward to
American history class next year."

      Josh caught her meaning.  "Me, too.  I'm kinda
interested in the Civil War and the settling of the west
after it."

      Suzie pretended to be more interested in some boys
running shoes than in Josh.  "Yeah.  I hope we get to learn
about building the railroads and the telegraphs or
something."

      After about three minutes Lori wandered away, bored,
to check out the toy section.  When they were sure she was
gone and not just waiting around the end of the aisle
display, Suzie grabbed Josh's collar and pulled him down
for a quick kiss.  She thought it was ever so sweet that
Josh worried about her using her left arm like that, and
she reinsured him that it didn't hurt when she did it.

      "I'd like to kick the butt of the jerk who hurt you,"
he said, giving her wrist a get-well kiss just in case it
needed one.

      "Me, too, for what he did to Jennifer, but we'll
never see that stupid dolt again," she said.  "Now, what's
this about you not going to Cinnamon's birthday party?"

      His head sank down between his shoulders.  "I don't
know.  I just... I don't think I'd have a good time by
myself."

      "You won't be by yourself, silly.  Lots of others
will be there.  Wynter said that they'd have to move the
party to Otter Park if anyone else got added to the
invitation list.  You need to go so you can tell me all
about it.  And I want to know how Cinnamon likes her big
surprise birthday present from Huntly and Jimmy and the
others.  Wynter said they'd be in Denver fixing it right
now.  You have to tell me everything, Josh!"

      "Well..."

      "And you have to stand in for me when Cinnamon opens
my present, too."

      "Well..."

      "And you don't want to miss the kissing contest, do
you?"

      She thought his red face was ever so cute.

      "The one I don't want to miss is yours," he said

      "You'll get to practice for it after next weekend.  A
lot!  But this may be your only chance for Cinnamon this
year."

      "Well..."

      Luckily they heard Lori returning before Suzie
convinced him.  The younger girl found them standing away
from each other and talking about Indian tribes.  She
frowned at them and went back to the toy section.  A couple
of minutes later or something, Josh agreed to go to the
party.  That was just in time, too, because Mrs. Carter and
Lori showed up before Suzie could even kiss him.

      "Let's go!" Lori said to her mother in a loud,
disgusted voice.  "They're talking about shoes and history!
Suzie will NEVER give him a boner!"

                            ~ ~ ~

      Huntly was sure he'd been standing up just an instant
earlier.  He was also sure he'd been breathing, too.  Now
he was lying down and looking at a high, thin cloud that
resembled a five-legged bunny with an overlarge head.  He
was wondering if he'd ever know the pleasure of oxygen in
his lungs again.

      Kenny's face loomed over his.  Kenny had his arm
drawn back, knuckles pointed at Huntly's face.  Kenny was
sitting on his chest.  Maybe that was why he couldn't
breathe.  Kenny was shouting something at him, but he
couldn't understand the words.  He was certain he'd been
able to understand words when he'd been standing up.  He
thought he remembered understanding them for all of his
life that he could remember.  Only, now he couldn't
remember much before that memory of standing up.

      Jimbo was there.  That was him grabbing Kenny's
wrist.  Jimbo was using words, too.  Obviously Jimbo could
understand words.

      The strange bunny rabbit disappeared.  Doctor Cutie
had dropped to her knees, one on either side of his head,
and shoved against Kenny's shoulders with her hands.  She
also understood words.  Clearly, then, he should be able to
understand them, too.  So, why couldn't he?

      What was this?  He could see up the leg of her yellow
knit shorts.  There was a strip of white cotton, printed
with little bitty blue and yellow and red flowers.  He
wasn't supposed to be seeing that, was he?  He was certain
that boys weren't supposed to look up the legs of girls'
shorts.  But he was also certain that he'd seen what was
behind that cotton strip.  So why wasn't he supposed to
look at that if he'd already seen everything else?  Maybe
if he could remember that, he could remember how to use
words.

      Oh, look!  Doggies!  A black one and a white one.
Did doggies understand words?  He thought they understood
them but didn't use them.

      Oh, look!  Someone else was there.  It was bitch.
Was THAT her name?  No.  Bitch was a word he called her.

      A word!  He remembered a word!  Maybe he could
remember more.  Maybe it would be easier now that they were
pulling Kenny off his chest.

      Maybe it would be even more easier if his stomach
didn't hurt like blazes and he could get air into his
lungs.  He missed air.

      Oh, look!  The bunny rabbit was back, but it looked a
lot dimmer than it had before Doctor Cutie had got in the
way.  And now it was gone again as somebody's face moved
over his.  He knew her.  Hailey Gwyneth Wahine.

      No, that wasn't right.  He tried to look more closely
at her dimming face, but she moved it out of the way and
another face replaced hers.  Another pretty face.  This one
gently slapped his face with a light-colored ponytail that
stood out against a rapidly darkening background.

      Soft lips pressed against his.  He was certain that
this was something he liked even more than the missing air.

      Suddenly, air flavored by spearmint filled his lungs.
More air.  Then somebody turned up the sun's brightness and
words began making sense.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Wynter rose up on her knees when Huntly gasped in a
lungful of air.  "He's breathing," she told the others.

      Kenny jerked toward them, barely held back by Jimmy
and her sisters.  "YOU APOLOGIZE NOW, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
he yelled.

      Huntly mumbled something, but it was just sounds
because he was trying to gasp in more air.

      "Kenny!" she barked in a cross voice.  "He's not
conscious enough to understand you yet."

      Cinnamon had had enough.  "KEVIN KENNETH, JUNIOR,
YOU'RE OUT OF LINE!"

      Since that stopped Kenny's yelling and threatening,
Wynter returned her attention to her patient.  His eyes
slowly focused on hers.  He frowned in puzzlement.

      "Don't try to get up yet," she said.

      He nodded and gave up trying to rise on his elbows.
"What happened?" he mumbled.

      She crossed her arms under her breasts and gave him a
very disdainful look.  "You went too far," she said.  "You
upset Kenny and me."

      "Did you hurt me?"

      "No.  Kenny did.  I'm a Future MD, so I had to help
you, but I wanted to trade places with Kenny.  He used his
hand instead of his foot, but I still need to check your
abdomen before you get up."

      "I did something that bad?"

      "That bad.  Don't you remember?  I cooked spaghetti
for lunch?"

      His face told her when he finally remembered.  They
had her house to themselves because her father had taken
her mother for a Monday afternoon visit to some of Grandpa
Wolfe's life-long friends, and they were going to have
lunch and dinner at a Breckenridge restaurant that was
owned by one of Mother's high school friends.

      After lunch they'd adjourned to the back yard, and
Jimmy had said something about pasta al dente.  Huntly,
clearly without thinking first, had said, "Suzie probably
thinks Pasta al Dente is an Italian muslim."  He'd been
standing near the edge of the patio when he said it.  Now
he was lying in the grass.

      "I'm sorry," he said, his voice a little stronger
now.  "I didn't mean anything personal."

      "Well, it wasn't a very nice thing to say about one
of our best friends, was it?  Especially behind her back
like that.  Of course, if you'd said it to her face, you'd
have had both of them making you sorry."

      He gave her a rueful look.  "No, it wasn't very nice.
It was supposed to be just a joke."

      "Then next time say Jimmy or Kenny or me, so people
will know you're joking.  Jokes aren't funny when they're
too close to the truth."

      Sis One interrupted.  "Is shithead able to understand
me now?" she growled.  It sounded more like an order than a
question.

      "He's yours next," Wynter said in an even voice as
she rose to her feet.  "But don't be as rough as Kenny was
because he needs to survive until Hailey and Jimmy have
their turns."

      Wynter switched places with Sis, then spoke to Kenny.
Her words were drowned out by, "SHITHEAD!  YOU'RE OUT OF
LINE!"

                            ~ ~ ~

      Jimmy rolled onto his left side on Wynter's bed,
pulling her around with him so that he didn't have to
withdraw from within her.  Her leg slid around his and
locked them together.   He thought it odd that her hot
breath panting on his neck could feel so cool, but that was
the wonderful thing about making love with her.  It was
just one unexpected delight after another.

      "I love you with all my heart," she panted.

      He rubbed the top of her head with his chin, then
slid his cheek down hers to whisper in her ear, "I love you
with all my heart, too."  He had to twist his lips to kiss
her earlobe, and he was barely able to brush it because of
the angles, but neither cared.  It was enough to seal the
solemnity of their declarations, and it caused her to sigh
in contentment.

      They pulled their heads back until they were lying
nose-to-nose on the pillow, holding long, intricate, caring
conversations merely by staring into each other's eyes.
They talked about medical school, his college, their Future
Careers, the home they would own some day, their life
together in that home, their Future Children, their Future
Grandchildren, all without moving their lips except to
exchange loving smiles.

      Like soldiers obeying drill commands their lips
puckered simultaneously, and, as one, they pushed their
faces forward a quarter of an inch each for a soft, brief
kiss that had as much meaning as both of the times they'd
made love to each other that afternoon.  They relaxed and
their lips parted, leaving them nose-to-nose and grinning
in delight.

      Jimmy ran his upper hand down her back and over her
slender butt.  He let it slide down the back of her thigh
until he ran out of arm and had to let his hand glide to a
rest on the side of her thigh.

      "Too bad I'm not on the swim team, huh?" she cooed.
"Then you could have more butt to play with."

      He slid the hand up to alternately grasp the cheeks,
as if checking size, firmness, and other physical
characteristics.  "Maybe," he said.  "But then I might have
more than I could handle.  There's just exactly enough for
me there."

      She blinked and then searched his eyes with her own.
"Would you lie to me?"  Her voice was too dreamy to create
a believable tone of suspicion.

      "Never."

      Her smile of contentment had THAT quirk at the edge.
So he wasn't surprised by her next question.  "Would you
stretch the truth to make me feel good?"

      "If I really had to.  Fortunately, this time I don't
have to."

      She giggled.  "How much do you love me?"

      "I could write the words a googleplexplex times and
I'd just be getting warmed up."

      Her head pulled away on the pillow.  "A
googleplexplex times?"

      "Yep.  That's ten to the googleplex power times."

      "Hmmm."  He liked the satisfied way she hummed her
comment.  "I thought a googleplex was the largest number
before infinity."

      "Unh uh.  Totally insufficient for even beginning to
answer your question.  And a googleplexplex is only
marginally better."

      Her slender, soft hand gave his cheek a caress that
sent shivers along his spine.  "Well, I sure am happy that
I've inspired you to expand the realm of mathematics."  Her
lips began closing the short distance, but never reached his.

      "KENNY!  NO!"

      He barely had time to recognize Cinnamon's voice
before the door flew open and a short naked couple raced in.

      "It's okay.  They're used to my interrupting...
WHOA!"  Kenny, eyes wide, froze in his tracks, forcing
Cinnamon to choose between dodging around him or crashing
into him.  She dodged, stopped, and also stared with wide
eyes.

      Both bedmates were too surprised to understand what
the arrivals were staring at until Cinnamon pointed and
said, "Say, that looks pretty good in there.  How'd you
like to put it in mine next?"

      Jimmy felt his face heat with a blush.  He also felt
himself squeezed out of his warm hiding place by Wynter's
convulsive spasm.  They had pulled the covers down only
enough to expose the pillows.  He scrabbled to grab the
bedspread and flip it sideways over them.

      "What is it THIS time?" Wynter asked in a highly
irritated tone.

      The bedspread settled over the entwined couple.
"I'll take that as a 'No' vote," Cinnamon said with obvious
disappointment.  "Want me to suck it clean for you?"

      "CINNAMON!" Jimmy shrieked, not believing Wynter had
giggled at that question.  He wondered if she were in shock
thanks to her sister's thoughtless comments.

      "Might as well ask Cinnamon to do it," Kenny said,
"because I'm not gonna, if that's what you want."

      "YOU PUTZ!" he shouted before realizing he'd just
awarded Kenny a point for breaking his cool.  He released
Wynter and sat up, though keeping each strategically
covered.  "What do you want?"  His eyes shifted to
Cinnamon.  "And what are you doing with THAT?  I thought
you were with Huntly."

      The little redhead shrugged.  "I was.  Right now he's
in the middle of something else."

      "SomeONE," Kenny corrected.

      "Someone else."

      Jimmy finally heard and identified the sounds coming
from the spare bedroom.  He glared at Kenny.  "What are you
two doing up here with those two?  I thought you wanted to
do it downstairs in the recliner."

      The patented shit-eating grin blossomed.  "We did.
Then Hailey suggested we move upstairs and join those two
in a foursome.  We were having so much fun that we decided
you might like to make it a six-some."

      "SEX-some?" Cinnamon suggested.

      "In a sex-some."

      Before Jimmy could growl for the two to get out he
saw Cinnamon's eyes flick to Wynter's for less than a
second.  In that length of time they conducted a complex
two-way non-verbal conversation that Jimmy could not fathom.

      "Come on, Kenny," the little redhead grumbled.  She
flipped a hand at the bed.  "These two party poopers don't
know how to have fun."  They turned, each grabbed a butt-
cheek of the other, and they left, swapping spit as they
walked.

      "COME BACK HERE AND CLOSE THAT DOOR!"

      Cinnamon stormed through the door and stopped, hands
on her bare hips.  "Do I look like room service?" she
asked.  She reached between her legs and produced a round,
silvery disk that she flipped to Jimmy.  "Here.  Call them
yourself."

      He stared at the quarter lying in his lap and heard
the door close.  Before he could speak he noticed the bed
shaking.  _Wynter!  They made her cry!_  His mind filling
with ways to punish the two, he whirled to comfort the love
of his life.

      She finally released the laughter she'd been holding
in.

      _Good grief, she's hysterical!_

                            ~ ~ ~

      Wynter rolled her eyes and pinched his lips shut.
"James Evan McCauley!  B!"

      He blinked in confusion for a moment, then looked
like an old sheep.  "I'm sorry," he mumbled out the corners
of his mouth.  She released her grip, and he said, "Instead
of turning into my dad, I'm turning into yours."

      The thought occurred to her that her father needed
more refractory time between rounds unless he was
exceptionally horny, but she couldn't tell Jimmy that.  Not
until after the prudectomy was completed.  The events of a
few minutes earlier had been, of course, an attempt to
speed that procedure along.  She sure did have a devious
sister.

      "Jimmy, I won't lie to you.  If I say I'm okay, then
I am.  I trust you!  Why don't you trust me?"  She gasped
when she realized what she'd just said.

      Fortunately, Jimmy understood what she meant, rather
than what she said, and didn't grow cross with her.  "A."
He frowned.  "Well, no, I'm not your parent.  A-Plus.  Or
would it be A-minus?"

      She laughed, grabbed him around the shoulders, and
pulled him down onto the pillows, where she smothered his
face with kisses.  Eventually she let him talk.

      "It's just that... well... I couldn't believe
Cinnamon did that with the quarter!" he said in the most
incredulous tone.

      "Me, either," she admitted with a giggle.  "That was
one of the funniest things I've seen all year."

      "WHAT?"  When she said nothing, he thought for a
moment.  "Yeah, I guess so.  I wonder if Kenny had that in
mind when he dragged her in her."

      "Oh, that wasn't Kenny's idea."  _Drat!_  Well, maybe
it would help the prudectomy, somehow.  She hoped he
wouldn't ask why Cinnamon had done it.

      "What?  Then why did Cinnamon drag him in and make it
look like it was his idea?"

      _Double drat!_  She'd just told him she wouldn't lie
to him.  _Now what?_

      "Wynter?"

      She ran a hand up his forehead to push back his hair
and then kissed him above each eyebrow.  "Um, did you
consider that it might have been Huntly's idea?  That maybe
he wanted some time alone with Hailey?"  She kissed him
between his eyebrows.  All she did was ask a question.  It
wasn't a fib if he came to an erroneous conclusion himself,
without her actually saying it was the truth.  She hoped.

      "That's something else," he said, heading down a new
track, much to her relief.  "I thought Huntly and Cinnamon
were becoming an item after the change in them in your back
yard Tuesday afternoon."

      "Hey!"  She kissed him.  "You're pretty observant for
a guy!" she said.  "They are."

      He frowned.  "But he's in there doing Hailey.  Unless
that was something Kenny or Cinnamon made up before they
came in here and those two were faking it."

      "No."  She tried to sound as casual as possible.
"It's intercourse."  She realized he was about to rise.
She folded her arms across his shoulders and then kissed
him so that he wouldn't know she was holding him down.

      "But...  But if they are an item..."

      Wynter sighed and shook her head, causing her hair to
slide down either side of their faces and box them in.  She
rather liked having his handsome face trapped in that small
area with hers.  "What's the next unused letter for
abbreviating responses?  C?  D?  We've had this
conversation before, you know.  Lots of times."

      "But I don't understand..." he began.

      "And you never will because, just like Kenny, you're
not willing to listen to any viewpoint but yours."

      "That's not true!"

      She pursed her lips and pushed them to one side in
thought.  "You're right.  You're both not willing to ACCEPT
any viewpoint but yours."  She kissed him briefly to stop
him from speaking.  "You'll listen, but if the answer isn't
what you want to hear, you ignore it.  You know what?  The
cure for Kenny's stomach illness is massive doses of
penicillin."

      "What does Kenny's... No, it's not.  You know they've
already tried it."

      "Yes, but I want that to be the right answer, so I'm
going to ignore Doctor Taylor and Doctor Marcus and treat
him with penicillin.  It will cure him because that's what
I want."

      "Huh?"

      Jimmy could be a little slow mentally after a good
sexual workout, and he'd just had a really good one as far
as she was concerned.  She kissed him.  "It's an al...
alnal..." _Drat!_ "a-nal-o-gy."

      He frowned at her until the lights came on.  "Oh."

      "Uh huh.  Maybe it's not the right answer for you,
but it's the right answer for Huntly and Cinnamon.  They've
both had other partners while doing each other, so it's not
a new thing."

      "But Cinnamon's never done Kenny before!"

      She frowned at him.  "Maybe you're not as observant
as I thought.  They did each other in the practice room
while we were all writing 'Cinnamon Sticks' on your patio
Monday."  She had to explain all the symptoms he'd missed,
including the beginning of Hailey's outburst--after kissing
him again, of course.

      "But... a FOURSOME?"

      She tried not to grin at his confusion, but she
didn't do a very good job of it.  "I guess it's the next
step after their threesome on Tuesday after the hot tub."

      "WHAT?"

      "That's where they were headed when they left after
his knee massage in the hot tub.  You really need to work
on your non-verbal communication, you know.  Cinnamon and
Hailey were both announcing it to the world."

      "But..."  Jimmy sure was cute when he was confused.
She'd never seen him cuter.  "But how...  Why... I mean...
You're saying they went from being an item to inviting
someone else into a threesome with them the same day?"

      She sure did hope that saying this wouldn't be a
mistake, but she was reasonably certain that Jimmy could
handle it by now.  "It's not like there was someone there
who hadn't done the other two before."

      She watched his eyes as the lights came on.  Then he
grinned and shook his head.  "You don't really believe that
act about them doing other girls, do you?"

      She crossed her fingers, but on the pillow above his
head where he couldn't see it.  "They've awakened me twice
right here in this bed.  Hailey twitches a lot when she has
an orgasm.  Cinnamon probably realized I woke up, but
Hailey was too busy cumming.  I really and truly wouldn't
be surprised if they do each other again tonight after I go
to sleep."

      She had to force his shoulders down to the mattress.
His anxiety attack worried her for a few seconds, but he
escaped a myocardial infarction.  Then his face turned
worried.  "What about you?" he asked, causing her to worry
about how he'd word the next question.  "Did you ever have
a threesome with them?  Or just a twosome?"

      "Nah," she said with relief that it wasn't a question
that could be interpreted in a way that involved her
relationship with her father.  "It's interesting from a
clinical perspective, but that's all.  But if the two of
them get pleasure from each other, then I prescribe it.
For them."

      "But...  How can she possibly love Huntly if she's
doing Kenny and Hailey?"

      The lights came on back in the corner of her mind
that held the memory of a conversation she'd had with
Daddy.  It seemed like that had been an eternity ago
instead of just a year.  She pushed her pursed lips to one
side and considered the ways to phrase it, looking for the
best one.  Fortunately, Jimmy realized that she was
organizing her thoughts and kept his disorganized ones to
himself.

      She kissed him.  "Do you love your mother?"

      Non-verbal communication clearly indicated he thought
she needed psychiatric consultation, but he said merely,
"Of course I do.  You know that."

      "I see."  She pretended to think about that for a
moment.  "So you're saying you don't love your father,
then.  Or me."

      "Of course I love my dad.  And you know I love you!"

      She shifted one hand for a moment to scratch at an
itch between her gluteus maximus and her biceps femoris.
"But, how can you love your dad and me if you love your
mother?"

      A grin teased his mouth as he realized she was using
another... a-nal-o-gy to teach a point.  She awarded
herself a mental pat on the back for not stumbling over the
word this time.

      "Because love," he said, "isn't finite in quantity."

      "I see.  So, you're saying that in order to give love
to your father and me, you don't have to take that much
away from what you give your mother."

      He suddenly gave her a smarty-pants grin.  "Yes.
But, my loving doctor, your analogy is faulty, because
you're saying that she's in love with Kenny and Hailey.
Maybe I can accept that about Hailey, but no way can I see
her in love with Uncle Bozo Junior."

      Wynter sighed.  "She's not."  She had hoped that she
wouldn't have to go through the lesson about the difference
in making love and fucking again.  She was in a hurry to
get back to those activities herself.

                            ~ ~ ~

      "It's a good thing I don't have the middle of the bed
tonight," Wynter said as she patted Dragon's head before
switching out her night stand light.  "Otherwise I'd wake
up in the morning surrounded by teenagers."

      "Hey!  Then you SO know how I feel tonight," Hailey
said beside her.  "I'm, like, going to sleep surrounded by
NON-teenagers."

      "Well, isn't this an interesting psychological
drama," Cinnamon said from the other edge of the bed.  "One
of you is jealous because tonight I'm not a teenager, and
the other is jealous because tomorrow I will be one."

      "And we're both SO the jel because, like, tomorrow
you get to go out shopping with Mom while Wynter and I have
to, like, work, decorating for a totally bogus party."

      Wynter noted smugness in the little redhead's voice
when she said, "You're just jelling because it's MY kissing
contest."

      "Oh, please.  NO WAY!  Hey!  I'll, like, warm the
guys up for you.  I'll be a lip fluffer.  The contest
itself is SO not the big!"

      Wynter was confused.  "Huh?  What is a 'lip fluffer?'"

      "She really has led a sheltered life, hasn't she
Cuz?" Hailey asked, pity coloring her voice.

      "Yes," Cinnamon said, echoing the pity.  "I blame
Kenny for not adequately completing her education.  A
fluffer, Sis, is a girl who blows or jacks off porn actors
off-camera to get them erect for the action scenes.  Our
horny Hawaiian harlot is saying she plans to get their lips
ready for the kissing scene."

      "Hey!  What's being Hawaiian have to do with it?"

      Wynter giggled.  This act was an all-female version
of the 'arguments' between Sis One and Huntly.  She'd heard
versions of it almost every time the three had spent the
night together.

      "Hey.  How about you, like, eat me?  It's SO my last
chance to get face from you before you become, like, one of
us superior ones."

      "Nah.  I'm tired.  Besides, I ate you three times
this afternoon while the guys did us.  Remember?"

      Wynter shook her head on the pillow and giggled while
Hailey grumbled to herself.  Then she felt the bed gently
shaking in the darkness.  _Is she...?_

      "Hey, do either of you, like, have a vibrator?"



Twenty Two

      "Okay," Angie said as she switched off the ignition.
"I guess I could come in for a minute, since it's for one
of my daughters.  And maybe Rosita could use some help."

      "You mean Wynter could use some help," Cinnamon said
with a mischievous grin, unlatching her seat belt.  "You
know that she'll have taken over decorating by now and will
be making sure that everything is perfect."

      Angie fumbled open her recalcitrant seat belt latch--
she'd best have Richard take it to Wally Sheridan's and
have it checked out--and raised an eyebrow at the little
redhead.  "She did that for Huntly's party?"

      "No," Cinnamon said as she opened the passenger door,
"but I could tell she was forcing herself not to.  Then,
I'm more of a perfectionist than Rosita, though I'm not
Wynter's caliber."

      Angie shook her head at the truth in that statement.
"If you ask me, nobody else is."  She climbed out of the
Cherokee and surveyed the bikes parked in the bike rack
while Cinnamon gathered the few packages from behind her
seat.  For a girl to whom money was not a barrier, the
little redhead was actually a frugal shopper.  She looked
at much, bought little, and compared price to value before
purchasing an item.  She would purchase the higher priced
item only if it were worth the additional cost.

      Though Cinnamon had tipped Kerrie Holmes a hundred
percent of the bill, and that also included her also paying
for Angie's hair and nails.  She'd told Angie privately
that she got more enjoyment spending money on others than
on herself, and besides that, Kerrie needed the money
because of some health problems that Cinnamon wasn't
supposed to know about.

      "Looks like Jimmy and Huntly are here.  I don't know
whose bike that is."

      Cinnamon answered without looking, of course.  She'd
taken in everything before the vehicle was fully into the
driveway.  "Finnegan's new one.  I wonder if that means I'm
playing today?"

      Angie laughed as she walked around the front of the
vehicle and joined her adopted daughter.  "Nice try.  But I
don't know, and even if I did know, the answer would be I
don't know."

      Cinnamon shrugged and indicated the north door.  "I
didn't expect it to work.  After all, Wynter gets her
brains from you."

      "Well, Richard's are in there somewhere.  You sure
you don't need help with those packages?"

      Cinnamon threw her that Kennedy Imperious Look.  "I'm
a teenager now.  I can do anything!"

      Angie, accustomed to having Dragon at the door
whenever Wynter returned, was surprised by Ghost's absence.
While Cinnamon carried her packages to her room, Angie
hurried to the kitchen and found Rosita at the center
counter, rapidly frosting cupcakes in an economy of motion.

      Rosita handed the spatula to Angie.  "Thanks for
volunteering," she said before Angie could speak.  "I had
to make more after Ghost decided to have a snack when I
wasn't looking.  He's been banished to Cinnamon's room.
These sprinkles go on the pink frosting, those on the
yellow.  If you hurry, you can make the punch.  Your hair
looks nice.  Cinnamon went to her room to change?"

      Grinning, Angie picked up a cupcake and snagged a
dollop of frosting.  "Thanks.  Good to see you, too," she
said as she lathered the cupcake with similar quick, deft
strokes.  "Cinnamon thought Wynter would be in charge by
now."

      Rosita opened an oven and peered in, speaking without
looking around.  "She is.  Don't mess up that frosting job
or you'll have to explain to the Supervisor-in-Chief."

      Angie chuckled.  "Won't be the first time."  She
glanced outside.  "Tents?"

      Rosita removed a tray of cupcakes, checked them with
a toothpick, and set them on a rack to cool as she
answered.  "With the sides up, they're more like awnings.
That huge gazebo isn't large enough for Cinnamon's mob if
it rains, though that's looking less likely now.  Mitch had
two of them set up as a precaution this morning."  She
grinned at Angie.  "BEFORE Wynter arrived.  It's his idea,
not hers.  We'll put the presents on a table in one of them
either way."

      Jimmy rushed in through the patio door, carrying a
toolbox.  "Oh!  I didn't know you were here.  Good to see
you, Future Mother.  She's upstairs, I hope?"  Meaning he
hoped she wasn't in the basement.

      "Stowing her packages and changing.  I'd hug you
but..."

      "But that would take time, and then you'd have to
answer to The Boss."  The capital letters in the title were
clearly evident in his voice, causing both Angie and Rosita
to laugh sympathetically.  "I'll have to take a rain check,
anyhow.  I need to return this to the garage and get back
out there."

      The fresh batch of cupcakes was too warm to frost, so
Angie made the punch while Rosita worked on the hors
d'oeuvres.  Angie was answering questions about the
shopping trip when she heard Cinnamon in the hall calling
to Jimmy.  The boy stopped in the door, turned to look down
the hall, and said, "WOW!"

      The little redhead rushed to him, grabbed his hands,
and gave him a sisterly kiss before leading him to the
counter.

      Angie glanced at Rosita and empathized with the brief
flash of envy on the woman's face.  Cinnamon wore simple
shorts, sandals, and a fancy summer blouse.  She had
applied just a hint of makeup that would go unnoticed by
most people.

      Kerrie had piled the girl's long red hair on the back
of her head and secured it with the jeweled pins that
Cinnamon had brought with them to Kerrie's Kuts and Kurls.
Fortunately the pins matched her new necklace, the present
that Angie and Richard had given her that morning.  The
spanking-new teenager looked more elegant than most of
Angie's sorority sisters had in their spring formals.

      "So," Rosita said while applying cream cheese to some
fancy crackers, "are you thinking about trading Wynter for
my soon-to-be-daughter?"

      Jimmy looked first at Angie, giving her a grin-and-
nod before replying.  "Soon to be?  She says she already is
your daughter.  But I don't know.  How bossy is Cinnamon?"

      "I heard that!"  The Boss stood in the patio doorway,
crossing her arms and tapping one foot.  She glanced at her
watch.  "People should start arriving in seventeen minutes.
Some will be early."

      Jimmy hung his head.  "Yes, dear."

      Angie laughed.  "You've trained him well,
sweetheart," she said as Jimmy trudged to the door to
resume his outdoor duties.

      Cinnamon disagreed.  "I think he learned that from
his dad.  The inflection was perfect."

                            ~ ~ ~

      Cinnamon didn't believe for one moment that Finnegan
was there early just to set up the sound system for his
secondary function as the disk jockey for the dance.  But
she didn't press.  If she was somehow expected to perform,
the way Huntly had when he received his guitar, then she'd
do so.  She'd chosen her clothing with that possibility in
mind.  Though with her drum kit still sitting in the family
room and no other instruments or any amplifiers there, it
seemed unlikely that there would be any live performances.

      In truth, she didn't want to know.  She would relish
the anticipation and revel in the moment when or if it
came.  While there were a few instances where being
surprised wasn't a good thing, a birthday party definitely
wasn't one of them.  Either way, she would be the center of
attention.

      Kenny had set up a balloon-festooned sign to direct
arrivees to the front door, where Cinnamon greeted them.
Hailey, on better behavior than her cousin had expected,
escorted them through the house and handed them off to
Kenny at the patio.  Cinnamon tried to attribute Hailey's
demeanor to some newly-discovered maturity on the girl's
part, but, uncharitably, kept concluding that Wynter had
conducted a one-sided 'discussion' with her Sister Number
Two.

      She was surprised but delighted when her father
arrived.  He'd called earlier to say a woman had gone into
labor with her first child, so she didn't expect to see him
until the party was over.

      "A new first-delivery record for me," he said after
giving her a kiss.  "Broken water to baby in twenty-two
minutes.  Wait until I tell Wynter about this."

      The boyish excitement in his voice gave her more of a
thrill than his presence, something she'd have thought
impossible a year ago.  She'd celebrated that birthday in
Hawaii, away from the bitch who'd spawned her but also away
from the father she loved.

      When all had arrived, including the on-time delivery
from Pepperoni Pete's, Wynter took charge in the gazebo
while Cinnamon opened family presents in the den with
Daddy, Rosita, and Cuz.  Hailey had two presents for her
favorite cousin, a gold picture frame containing a family
portrait of Uncle Gerry, Aunt Viv, and Hailey for the
family gathering and another present for the party.

      To Cinnamon's great non-surprise she found Wynter
sharing emcee duty with Huntly.  He was entertaining
everyone with magic tricks when Cinnamon and Hailey emerged
from the house.

      "Well," he said, "I was going to use Megan next,
either to saw her in half or show you a slot machine trick,
but Hawaii's prize wahine is delivering our beautiful
Teenaged Guestess of Honor.  All rise!"

      All did, accompanied by several hoots and wolf
whistles for the 'Guestess.'  She joined Huntly and Wynter
at the head table in the crowded gazebo, smiling and waving
her hands.  They toasted her with punch and sang 'Happy
Birthday.'  They did a better than usual job, and as she
basked in the moment she wondered if Little Miss Perfection
had rehearsed them.

      But she especially adored the way Huntly couldn't
take his eyes off her.  She realized she was getting very,
very wet.

      After greetings and announcements, all sat except for
Snoopy and Possum Watkins, Alyssa Erland, and Hailey.  They
served while Huntly cracked wise about the pleasure of
having another teenager to take some of the blame and
burden associated with that status from his heavily
overburdened shoulders.  He also expressed deep pity for
those in attendance who had yet to reach 'the lofty status
of teenagehoodedness.'  Fortunately, he didn't try to
attribute that word to Suzie, possibly because he saw Kenny
tense when he said it.

      The thought of Suzie saddened her.  She'd never
considered the impact that her friend's absence would have
on her.  It was almost as bad as the way she thought she'd
feel if Wynter couldn't attend.  Right on cue, the skies
darkened for several minutes, looking as if the rain might
begin immediately, but the sun emerged for the remainder of
the party and her spirits lifted.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Everyone seemed to be finished with the ice cream and
cupcakes.  Wynter sipped her punch, squeezed Jimmy's hand,
and rose to her feet.  Conversation quickly died as people
turned their rapt attention to her.  "Huntly, would you and
Jimmy please clear away some space so that Sis can open her
presents?"

      Huntly rose to his feet.  "I dunno.  Isn't that
women's work, Jimbo?"

      While the girls soundly booed the comment, Jimmy rose
and started gathering plates.  "I refuse to answer that on
the grounds that I don't want a sex-change operation."

      Those sitting where they could see Sis One laughed
when she grinned and snapped her teeth at Huntly, a not-so-
subtle reminder of Matthew Wylie's emasculation.

      Huntly did a beautiful double-take.  "Say, Jimbo!  Do
you need some help, there?"

      Wynter had arranged the presents in alphabetical
order by attendee on a table in the adjacent tent behind
the head table.  That organization made it easy for Huntly
and Jimmy to find the right one as Cinnamon, while
standing, called for them in her priority order.  Wynter
recorded the gift and the giver for thank you notes.  Soon
only four presents remained.

      "Suzie," Cinnamon said, then announced to everyone,
"Most of you know that Suzie Middleton is in Colorado
Springs.  She's performing as a student coach at swim camp,
the first ever from her age group.  Though she can't be
here today, she did send a gift.  I've said repeatedly that
I don't care anywhere near as much about the gifts as I do
about having you friends here with me.  Since her gift
represents her attendance, I have made an exception to that
rule just for her."

      The little redhead smiled toward the far end of one
table.  "Josh, she said you were supposed to stand in for
her at this moment and report my reactions to her.  Tell
her that the gift is all the more precious to me because it
represents her attendance."

      Josh nodded in what Wynter thought of as a
reverential manner.

      She accepted the small package from Huntly with all
the dignity she could muster, and Sis sure could muster a
lot of dignity when she wanted to.  While Sis unwrapped it,
one of Wynter's hands found its resting place on Jimmy's
back as her other grasped his in anticipation.

      "Good Lord!"  Cinnamon's round cheeks were pushed
upward by her smile as she withdrew a heart-shaped silver
compact engraved with both her name and a tiny pair of
drumsticks.  She held it up for all to see.

      Huntly frowned at Wynter.  "You've talked to Suzie
about...," his eyes flicked to Cinnamon, "you know.
Haven't you?"

      He obviously meant his music.  But he was curious,
not cross.  "Yes.  Why?"

      Huntly laughed and shook his head.  "I didn't realize
she had it in her.  Think about it."

      Wynter put on her diagnosis cap and then laughed.
The engraving said, 'Cinnamon Sticks.'  She nodded as Jimmy
slapped his forehead.  His lights had just come on, too.

      "What on earth are you three going on about?"

      "Nothing, bitch.  Weren't you reading Suzie's note?
I thought I saw your lips moving."

      "Shithead."  She chuckled as she read the tiny note.
She handed it to Wynter, who silently read the hand-written
words, 'Even some one as butiful as you ocassionaly needs a
littel help.  Love, Suzie.'

      Wynter's hand squeezed Jimmy's back as she handed it
up for him to read.

      The little redhead's narrowed eyes widened when she
opened the silver case.  "That's my shade!"  She removed
the refill and turned it over.  "And my brand!  I didn't
realize she knew."  She gave Wynter a suspicious glance
that shifted to Hailey when Wynter shook her head.  Sis Two
also indicated that she wasn't the information's source.

      "Oh," Jimmy said after he realized what Cinnamon's
nonverbal communication was asking, "Perhaps I should
comment that although she doesn't wear much herself, Suzie
is highly attuned to what make-up and perfumes other girls
use.  I learned that at Wynter's birthday party."

      Sis nodded understanding before she called Josh to
stand beside her at the head table.  Cinnamon took his
hands and gently squeezed them.  "Josh, would you pass my
thanks along to Suzie?"

      Josh looked as if he'd been awarded a great honor,
and Wynter guessed he had.  "Sure!"

      "Good."  Her arms flew around Josh's neck.  She
pulled him down into a kiss that made his legs weak.  "Now,
you give that to her, and don't you leave anything out."

      Josh grinned and promised he would do as ordered.

      Wynter's eyes flicked to Kenny in an autonomic
reflex.  He was wiping his eyes with the back of one hand.

      "Cuz," Cinnamon said to Jimmy.  He retrieved a thin,
flat box that contained what could have been a yellow
bikini if it had contained a bit more cloth.  Wynter wasn't
sure if it had as much fabric as the three blue postage
stamps and string.  The boys began demanding that she model
it for them.  "Well...  Maybe later," she said with a
teasing grin before kissing Hailey.

      "I SO want to, like, see you in it, too," Hailey
murmured as their lips separated.  "I'm getting SO hot
thinking about it on you."

      "Okay, shithead," she said with a grin as she handed
the package to Huntly to return to the gift table.  "Let's
see yours."

      "Bitch.  Actually, Wynter's present is next."

      Sis backhanded him, causing him to jump and grab his
upper arm.  "Making yours the last?"  She crossed her arms
and gave him a most disdainful look.  "I decide the order
of importance, and no shithead will ever be more important
than my sister."

      Huntly shook his head while everyone laughed.  "It's
not a question of importance, bitch.  If I give you mine
next, it will spoil the surprise of Doctor Cutie's."

      Cinnamon's head snapped down and around.  "He's not
actually telling the truth for a change, is he?"

      Wynter giggled and nodded.  "Yes.  He is."

      Sis looked surprised.  "Well, I guess it was bound to
happen eventually.  Okay."

      Huntly paused at the intercom first, keyed it, and
said, "Now."  He waited for confirmation, then ducked into
the gift tent.

      Wynter's heart swelled in her chest when she saw
Doctor Brees with an easel under one arm and his Future
Wife in the other, bringing both to the gazebo.

      Huntly returned with Wynter's present before the
couple was halfway from the house.  "All right, everyone."
he said.  "We have invited two escapees from the old folks'
home to join us for a minute because of the special nature
of Doctor Cutie's present.  Although I know what it is and
what it looks like, as you will discover in a few minutes,
this will be the first time I've seen the actual item."

      Sis looked at Wynter and tilted her head toward first
the box and then her father.  She raised her eyebrows.
Wynter nodded to confirm that it was her painting, as Sis
had asked.  The little redhead looked as she were about to
undergo anticipatory cardiac arrest.

      "Although I have no idea what Huntly's babbling
about," Sis said, "I, too, know what the gift is.  Unlike
him, I have absolutely no idea what it looks like, so I'm
even more excited about this than you are."

      When Doctor Brees had set the easel in place,
Cinnamon unwrapped the box, lifted the lid, and peered in.
Her eyes went wide in her stunned face.  "_Holy shit!_" she
whispered in a soft voice.

      Doctor Brees and Mrs. Vasquez looked next and echoed
the soft words.  Huntly was next while Cinnamon, eyes
brimming, gave Wynter a look that made her heart feel too
big for her chest.

      Doctor Brees held it so that everyone could see while
Cinnamon gave Wynter a hug as ferocious as one of Grandpa
Wolfe's, followed by a kiss that barely stayed sisterly.
Soft whispers of, "_Holy shit!_" were drowned out by
Miranda Ochoa's, "And I thought Huntly's guitar was the
most beautiful man-made object I'd ever seen!"

      "Maybe it still is," said Wynter with a giggle.  "I'm
not a man, you know."  She gasped when Sis, who was still
hugging her, secretly squeezed one of her breasts.

      "No," the little redhead softly agreed with a grin,
"you certainly aren't."

      After several minutes the crowd settled down and took
seats.  Cinnamon sent Huntly to get his present.  If Sis
noticed that her father and Mrs. Vasquez hadn't left, and
Wynter couldn't imagine her not noticing, she didn't say
anything."

      Huntly had done what he'd thought Cinnamon had done
to him.  Inside the one-foot cube box was another wrapped
cube, nine inches on a side.  Sis was unwrapping the six-
inch cube inside that when she froze, her eyes fixed on the
north end of the house.  "How...?" she whispered, but
didn't speak the rest of her question.

      Wynter noted the little redhead's curious expression
and looked.  Guy Malone and Mister McCauley were standing
at the top of the steps leading down to the basement game
room.

      Inside the six-inch cube, Cinnamon finally found the
wrapped jewel case containing the CD.  The card inside the
case's cover and the face of the disk itself showed a
picture of Wynter's painting in the upper left corner and a
picture of crossed drumsticks, similar to the ones engraved
on Suzie's compact, in the lower right.  At the upper right
were the words, 'Cinnamon Sticks,' and the lower left,
'Junior and the Twins, with Special Guests Wynter King and
Guy Malone.'  She again gazed that the north end of the
house in confusion.

      "Ladies and gentlemen and Kenny!" Huntly said,
holding up his hands to quiet the growing murmur of the
crowd.

      "Up yours, Sheridan!"

      "I'll ignore that outburst from the nursery."  He
took the CD case from Cinnamon and lifted it for all to
see.  "You have a choice.  You can stay out here with
magnifying glasses and try to read the music to 'Cinnamon
Sticks' off the tracks in this CD, or you can move to the
basement over there where my talented but menial assistants
are standing and be treated to a live performance of it.
Either one is acceptable, but if you choose the first
option, you'll miss seeing my brilliant playing technique."

      "In that case, I'll stay out here with Cinnamon,"
Kenny snorted.

      "Those who do not wish to stay and change Kenny's
diaper should report to the basement now."

      Despite people passing by the head table to look at
the cover, the gazebo emptied in record time.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Wynter played a run of scales with the Clavinova set
on electric piano when Finnegan called her name over the
headset.  Although they had checked the settings before the
party began, Finnegan insisted on verifying that nothing
had changed.  That made sense to Wynter.  She would have to
do similar verifications before she performed surgical
procedures so that she could be sure that she had
everything necessary.  She sure didn't want to ask for a
rib spreader and have the nurse say, "Oops!"

      Guy, sitting on the drummer's throne, looked first at
the seated audience and then at his watch.  He adjusted his
headset and stretched.  "I'll bet she's still in the gazebo
trying to figure out how we got her drums from upstairs to
here in the time available.  She's probably wondering if we
damaged them or knocked them out of tune."

      Jimmy looked at Wynter, keyed his headset intercom,
and whispered, "She's probably putting her shorts and
panties back on about now."  Apparently he'd forgotten that
his dad was also in the circuit.

      Wynter gave him a cross look that was ruined by her
giggle.  Before she could answer, Sis and Huntly, arms
about each other, entered from the outside door.  The
little drummer froze, jerking Huntly to a halt, when she
saw her practice kit sitting there.  Wynter watched the
lights come on in her eyes.  They had really and truly
surprised Sis.

      "She's all yours, wahine," Huntly said, yielding his
escort duty to the sparkling-eyed Hailey.

      "This way, Cuz.  Hey!  You are SO going to love
this!"  Hailey led her cousin to the designated spot, a
small note taped to the floor between Snoopy and Possum.
It read 'Bitches only' in Huntly's handwriting.  Cinnamon
sat between the two shy cousins and took a hand of each in
her own.  Her own cousin sat behind her, wrapped arms
around her waist, and said in an excited voice, "This is
WAY cool!"

      Huntly took his position between Jimmy and Guy and
said, "While 'Cinnamon Sticks' isn't a..." his voice
dropped an octave as he crooned the next word, "loooove...
tune like 'Wynter's Song,' it manages to capture both the
spirit of its namesake and some of my feelings for her.
You'll recognize the latter in the discordant notes."

      "Making excuses in advance for your poor playing?"
Kenny taunted.  He yelped when Katie Wilson thumped his
head and told him to behave.

      "Moving right along, the melody was inspired by a
drum pattern from our guest percussionist, the star drummer
of Dunne High School and the Maroon Bells' own Guy Malone.
He's a senior, but I think all of you know him or know of
him."

      Guy acknowledged the cheers and applause while Huntly
slipped his guitar strap over his head and, with a
magician's flourish, produced a pick in his fingertips.

      "Also sitting in as a guest Twin performer is
LaMarcus's better looking identical twin, Doctor Cutie!"

      Wynter rose and curtsied gracefully, the way the
birthday guest of honor would have done, while the laughing
bass player led the applause.

      "Ladies and gentlemen!"  He grinned at the front row.
"And birthday bitch.  'Cinnamon Sticks!'"

      Wynter noted the almost feverish anticipation in her
adopted sister's face as Guy lifted his left drumstick out
at a forty-five degree angle.  Wynter thought his movements
weren't as crisp or precise as Cinnamon's, though she'd
never be so impolite as to say that to anyone.  He tapped
out the beat, spun the stick in his right hand, and jabbed
it across his body at Mister McCauley.

      Wynter knew that the music's success depended on the
rhythm guitar's electronic tremolo precisely matching the
beat.  Mister McCauley and Guy had spent hours working on
the settings and Guy's hitting the beat properly every
time.  They had spent all their time while everyone else
was at the party working on that timing.  Her heart
hammered in her chest with the worry that Guy might suffer
anxiety disorder and signal the wrong beat, though its
timing looked right to her.

      Her worry was needless.  The catchy rhythm pattern
was flawless.  On the third bar Huntly's A-string, softly
echoed by LaMarcus on his bass, twanged out the
introductory phrase.  LaMarcus switched to a bouncy rhythm
as Huntly launched into the catchy main theme.  Jimmy's
synthesizer slowly rose in volume to add background color,
rather than rhythm or texture, to the music.

      Midway through the first theme, Huntly handed the
lead over to Wynter.  He joined with her for the transition
down to Guy's drum bridge.  Until this point he'd set
mostly a standard 4/4 beat on the snare drum and high hat,
with occasional minor additions at transitions, causing Sis
to look at him with disappointment that she didn't show
when she looked at the others, especially Huntly.

      The bridge lasted eight bars and had only four cymbal
crashes.  The hope in Cinnamon's eyes at the beginning of
the bridge again faded to disappointment.

      The B theme was a minor key variation of the A theme,
with the same notes but different timing.   Wynter had a
rest during the B, but rejoined Huntly when the A theme
resumed.  Again he handed off to her and rejoined just
before a second transition down to the bridge.  This time
the bridge lasted considerably longer than eight bars:  Guy
had launched into his solo.  You could hear the melody in
his drum and cymbal sounds, creating an effective C theme.

      Cinnamon's eyes almost disappeared as the explosion
of her smile slammed her round cheeks upward.  Wynter tore
her eyes away to glance at Jimmy.

      His eyes were also on Sis.  He knew Wynter was
looking at him because he gave a grin-and-nod, though his
eyes stayed on the little redhead who was now almost
bouncing off the floor in delight.

      Wynter thought it was a good thing Sis had Snoopy and
Possum to help Hailey hold her down or else she might just
float up to the ceiling anyway.

      Wynter glanced about the room.  Doctor Brees and Mrs.
Vasquez were standing by Finnegan's board at the back, at
the spot where they'd stood during Huntly's birthday party
performance.  Both were watching Cinnamon and grinning like
they had overdosed on opium.  Everyone else had eyes locked
on Guy.  They were all smiling and nodding, the way they
did when Cinnamon played.

      All but one of them.

      _What the heck?_

      Wynter noted the frown of disdain on Kenny's face as
he watched Guy.  She didn't have enough symptoms to
diagnose the cause.  She glanced at Jimmy, who was still
watching Sis.  She willed Jimmy to look at her.  His head
turned, and she used her eyes and a slight jerk of her head
to indicate Kenny.

      Jimmy peered at him for several seconds, then looked
at Wynter and shrugged.  He, too, was clueless.  Both
resumed watching the ecstatic little redhead until Guy
finally brought it around to the B theme again.  After a
final short version of the A theme, the music died away,
except for Jimmy's final note, which hung in the air even
after Finnegan finally faded it into oblivion.

      As the room thundered with applause, Cinnamon jumped
to her feet, stabbed a finger at Huntly's guitar, and
pointed to the guitar stand.  When he straightened, she
launched herself from a standing start, locking her arms
around his neck and slamming a kiss to his lips so quickly
that Wynter worried if either had loosened a few teeth.

      Huntly, caught off guard, had to grab her butt to
keep from falling on his face.  Wynter grinned at Jimmy
when she saw that.  He rolled his eyes at her and looked
like an old sheep.  The one time that Sis had done that to
Jimmy, she'd been nude and he'd ended up with wet fingers.
She guessed Huntly would also end up with wet fingers as
soon as he and Sis had some time alone.

      When people began calling for an encore, Wynter was
sure that they meant a musical encore because Sis and
Huntly were still kissing.  _I wonder if Sis can have an
orgasm like that, where she can't use thigh masturbation_.

      Finally Sis pulled her head back and let Huntly set
her on her feet.  Sis's face said she obviously could.
Wynter suddenly worried that Huntly might have strained his
knee, but he looked okay.  Goofy, but okay.

      "Well, I'm with the rest of them, shithead.  Do you
have an encore ready?"

      They all looked as surprised as Wynter felt.  They'd
been so focused on 'Cinnamon Sticks' that they'd never
considered an encore.  Huntly raised his shoulders at Guy.

      "Uh, well..." was his response.  A few seconds later
he brightened.  "Well, you guys are a surf band.  I can do
'Wipe Out' with you!"

      Sis looked at Wynter and mouthed, "Please shoot me."

                            ~ ~ ~

      Since 'Wipe Out' had no keyboard parts, Jimmy sat
beside Wynter on her bench.  He barely heard the music as
he concentrated on trying to decipher the meaning of
Kenny's attitude.  The applause and cheers finally brought
him around.

      "Was that okay?" Guy asked.

      As the chorus of agreement faded toward silence, a
voice piped up.  "Okay, but not great," Kenny said.
"Cinnamon can literally beat that one-handed."

      Jimmy's eyes jerked from Kenny to Guy, expecting to
see the older boy angered.  He looked anything but angry.
Jimmy couldn't decide whether the look was disappointment
or sadness.

      As the guests, most of whom were unaware of the
tension, clapped and called for Cinnamon to play the song,
too, Guy rose to his feet and bowed with courtesy and
dignity to Cinnamon.  He held out the sticks.  "I believe
they would rather have you than me," he said.  "I yield and
thank you for the opportunity, despite your lack of
foreknowledge, to play such a magnificent drum kit."

      Howls of protest arose, along with a growing chant of
the word, "Contest!"

      "You have any idea yet?" Jimmy whispered.

      "Hunh uh," Wynter grunted.  "I've been watching Sis.
She doesn't know, either, but I think Hailey might."

      Jimmy didn't question that.  He'd not been watching
either cousin, but if Wynter said she believed that, then
it was fact for him.

      An unnatural grin shaped Cinnamon's mouth, leaving
her eyes untouched.  "No," she corrected, "I believe they
want us to compete."

      Yells of agreement followed.  Guy still held the
sticks toward the newest teenager.  "I would be honored,"
he said.

      Cinnamon's grin softened into a natural one.  "I
guess it would be fun, even if it is..."  She left the song
unnamed.

      She had to adjust the throne for her shorter height,
then moved it and the high hat.  When she was ready, she
said, "I can't do this without the right introduction.
Kenny, I need your help!"

      Kenny gave her a surprised look, then smiled, did the
laugh, and cackled, "WIPE OUUUUT!"

      Guy looked for a place to sit.  Hailey circled a hand
in the air and pointed to the seat Cinnamon had vacated.
Guy first glanced at Kenny, then shook his head.  Instead,
he moved behind Cinnamon and remained standing, watching
her with growing disbelief as she repeated her performance
for Kenny in the practice room a few months earlier.  He
shook his head as she alternated the solo drum sequences
between single hands while the other held up her watch or
scratched an itch or just hung loosely at her side.

      When it was over and the crowd had quieted, Guy spoke
first.  "No way is there a need to vote.  I yield!  I've
truly been outplayed."

      Cinnamon rose and offered her hand, which he gave a
congratulatory shake.

      "By the way," he said, looking somewhat embarrassed,
"do you give lessons?"

      She smiled.  "I do to friends, both old friends and
new ones."

      "Then I'll call you about that later.  I know it's
your party, and I've no right," he said, "but if it's not
too tactless to ask, could you play one more piece?  I've
learned more about drumming in the last three minutes than
I'd learned in the five years before that."

      Cinnamon turned and lifted her palms upward in
question.  The answer was loud and positive.  She turned to
Jimmy and pointed to the keyboards.  He gave Wynter a
squeeze and returned to his place.  When he was seated, she
said, "'Caravan,'" and everyone adjusted instrument settings.

      The choice was pure Cinnamon.  Not only did their
version have a magnificent drum solo for Guy to observe, it
had solos for all the other performers to showcase their
talents, too.  Even though it was her party, her day,
Cinnamon was sharing the spotlight.  The choice was as
selfless as any Wynter would have made.  As the little
drummer slammed the fourteen-inch crash cymbal and hammered
out the opening beat on a tom-tom, Jimmy couldn't believe
that his Future Wife and his Future Sister-in-Law weren't
blood relatives.

      His fingers hit the first chord right on cue, and
they were off and running!

      So, what the heck was up with Kenny?

                            ~ ~ ~

      Kenny halted at the door when he heard Guy call his
name.  He told Evi Lopez to go on without him.  She
shrugged, latching onto a surprised Finnegan.  Kenny
chuckled and shook his head.  Finnegan had become A Famous
Person because he was the dedicated sound man for Junior
and the Twins, and thus was worthy of Evi's attention.

      Hailey released Snoopy's and Possum's arms when she
reached him.  She leaned down and put her mouth next to his
ear.  "Hey!  This is SO NOT the drama, pickledick!" she
whispered.  "Why don't you drop it?  I told you..."

      "I know," he snapped, cutting her off more sharply
than he'd intended.  He softened his voice.  "Snoopy?"

      The shy blonde, her chin against her chest, looked at
him with her large, beautiful blue eyes.  "Yes?"

      "Hailey's about to get lost on her way back to the
gazebo.  Could you please show her the way?"

      "Sure.  She was telling us about Waikiki Beach,"
Snoopy said in her soft voice as she wrapped a hand around
Hailey's arm.  "It sounds very nice.  We'd like to see it
some day."

      Possum nodded agreement with her cousin, adding to
Kenny's already considerable surprise.

      As a test, he slowly reached for Snoopy's hand and
gave it a gentle pat.  She didn't flinch.  "Maybe you two
can visit Hailey, and she can take you there.  Without Duck
or Goose or the others, of course."

      They weren't afraid of being among all those
strangers on the crowded beach?  And Snoopy had let a male
initiate a touch?  After they had served both the boys and
the girls at the large birthday party?  The two were
finally beginning to act like the cousins of old, the way
they used to be BMW:  'Before Matthew Wylie.'  As they led
Hailey away, Kenny's quieted anger began to seethe anew.

      He moved to the back of the room, away from the door
so that he wouldn't have to interact with others.  He'd
felt a faint burning erupt in his guts, apparently caused
by his anger and the tension.  He didn't need the stress.

      Sheridan, of course, started in his direction.
Cinnamon quickly deflected his path toward the outside door
and shot a warning look at Kenny.  He translated it as,
"Don't get blood all over my house!" and nodded.  Had
Hailey said something to her cousin?  Maybe not.
Cinnamon's attitude was one of curiosity, but she seemed to
realize it wasn't a good time to interfere.

      Jimmy's dad and LaMarcus gave him looks of concern
but did not attempt to butt in without an invitation.
LaMarcus gave him a steady look while he held a hand palm
down at his waist and moved it sideways with a turn of his
wrist.  'Keep it smooth, yo,' he translated.  Again he
nodded.

      Tyrone Hayes shot his arm up and snapped his wrist
down to point a finger at Kenny as he passed.  "Keep it up,
G, and Little Momma'll put you on retainer for every
drumming contest she do that at!"

      Shamisa James, aware that something unusual was
happening, told him to shut up and pushed him to the door.

      Wynter and Jimmy were last.  She looked nervously at
Guy, then looked as if she were about to approach Kenny.
Jimmy, his arm around Wynter as usual, carefully steered
her to the door, too.  His face clearly said he had no idea
what was going on, but he knew Kenny could take care of
himself.  His face also said he was worried about Guy
because Kenny might start something.  Kenny shook his head,
and Jimmy seemed to understand.  Jimmy closed the door
behind him.

      Since the mountain didn't move from the back of the
room, Mohammed went to the mountain.  He stopped two arms'
lengths away, though he had to know that he wasn't at a
safe distance from Kenny.  Not that anywhere in the room
was a safe distance.  Wynter would call Guy's expression
contrite.  "Are you going to make as issue of it?"

      Kenny forced his fingers to straighten, then realized
that they were weapons that way, too.  He made them relax
into a natural curl.  "You hurt her."

      Guy nodded.  "I know.  But it wasn't intentional.
She said she wanted to do it, and..."

      Anger rose to his throat and snaked about the words
as they emerged.  "So you're blaming her?"

      "NO WAY!  I'm trying to explain."

      Kenny stared at him.  He remembered how he'd felt
when Suzie wouldn't let him explain that she'd made a
mistake about him and Caroline.  "I'm listening."

      "She said she wanted to do it, and I wasn't smart
enough to realize that it wasn't a usual kink for her, the
way I'd assumed.  It's WAY my fault for not paying
attention, but I was too excited by her for my big head to
realize it was her first time.  It was only my... sixth?
Maybe fifth, and before it was always with Teri Austin
because that's her thing.  No way am I into S&M, but
usually I try to do what a girl wants if it gets her better
jollies."

      When Kenny said nothing, Guy shrugged.  "You can't
tell me you haven't done Hailey.  Won't you do whatever she
asks to make her happy?"

      "Well, yeah."  _Just like I held Suzie's legs so she
could push against my arms when she came because that was
what she liked._  "But..."

      "But I fucked up.  I gave her a safe word, but she
didn't say that she didn't know what a safe word was.  As
soon as I realized she really wanted to quit, I did.  Look,
Taylor, I play the drums and I'm the same sex as him, but
NO WAY am I Matthew Wylie!"

      Kenny stared without blinking.  "Keep talking."

      Guy hunched his shoulders in a shrug and seemed to
sink down inside himself.  "I don't know.  Look.  Maybe you
know the whole story behind what happened to him, maybe you
don't know any more that I do about that.  But I do know
that if there's one thing you and I agree on in this world,
it's that Wylie got off light."

      Tension drained from Kenny's muscles.  "Hailey keeps
telling me it's no big deal."

      "I don't think it is for her.  It is for me, though.
You can't imagine how I feel about that."

      "Maybe," Kenny said, extending his hand in
friendship.  "But I do understand."

      Guy's grip was firm and strong.  "She's lucky to have
you for a friend."

      The patented shit-eating grin slid into place without
his conscious knowledge.  "I do my best to protect her from
herself.  You leaving now?"

      Guy shook his head.  "No way!  I've been given a
personal invitation to the kissing contest.  Shouldn't we
get up there before it's over and we both miss out?"

                            ~ ~ ~

      The girls jumped to their feet and cheered, and all
the guys but one groaned their disappointment to each
other.  Kenny quietly pulled his left foot over his right
thigh, gripped his ankle in both hands, and pondered
whether he'd been the reason that Guy had won the contest.
If so, he wondered what would happen when the other guys
learned that he was the reason they had lost.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Jimmy cuddled Wynter in his lap in one of the den's
recliners and sipped his share of the last of the punch.
Huntly and Cinnamon sipped theirs in the adjacent recliner.
The stereo began the recorded--and shorter--version of
'Cinnamon Sticks.'

      Huntly sighed when it appeared in the random order of
selections.  "So," he said in his 'here comes a wise-ass
comment' manner," it looks like you're getting to enjoy
your favorite birthday present again."

      Wynter shifted in Jimmy's lap.  "Get real, Huntly."

      "What?  You think she likes YOURS more than MINE,
there, Doctor Cutie, just because her dad hung it in the
hall where everyone coming in the house can see it?"

      "I don't know how ours rank.  But I do know that even
Jimmy is aware of which present was her favorite."

      "Hey!" Jimmy said.  "I'm not the one who's brain
damaged here."

      Kenny, sitting on the couch with his hand down the
back of the shorts of a reclining Hailey, cackled in his
weird voice, "HELLO?  EARTH TO MISTER BRAIN DAMAGE!  DUH!"
He shifted to his normal voice.  "It was Suzie's, of course."

      Hailey, softly moaning at whatever Kenny was doing,
said, "Yeah, pickledick.  OOOH!"

      Huntly frowned at each of them individually, then as
a group.  "'Of course'?"

      Jimmy loved Huntly's genuine confusion.  "Clearly the
'lofty status of teenagehoodedness' doesn't grant you
superior observation and reasoning powers any more than it
gives you comic ability."

      Huntly looked at Ghost, as if he were waiting to see
if everybody in the room was going to take a shot at him.
"What does everyone else know that I don't?  Do you mean
you think so because of her acceptance speech and the way
she kissed Josh?  Oh!  You mean it was her favorite because
it represented Suzie's attendance."

      "You really ARE a shithead."

      "And a pickledick.  OOOOH!"

      "Perhaps Kenneth is not the putz here after all."

      "Why, thank you, James.  I think.  Hey, at least you
and I are still young enough to use our brains while
enjoying the company of our women."

      "That does it!" Wynter said, though with far less
heat than she'd used at the infamous rehearsal.  "Play nice
or I'll turn all of you over my knee."

      "Ooooh!" Hailey cooed.  "KINKY!"

      That caused Kenny to tense and THAT look to return to
his face briefly.  Jimmy realized he'd just witnessed a
clue to the reason for the Kenny-Guy antagonism that was
now in the past.  Although he didn't know what the clue
implied, the situation was obviously resolved and the two
were now friends, so he put the issue from his mind.

      "Later, Sis," Wynter said.  "Huntly, that was an
expensive compact."

      "Okay.  But bitch says she doesn't care about
presents as much as having her friends present.  Now you're
saying that the reason it's her favorite is that it cost a
lot?"

      "Hey!  You are SO the dumb, pickledick!  Jimmy's not
the only one who SO can't think like a girl.  Well, no.
Like, even HE figured it out, so it's, like, just YOU.
Look, Suzie doesn't, like, get paid for being a coach."

      Huntly still couldn't connect the dots.  "So?"

      Wynter sat up and shifted into lecture mode, causing
Jimmy to smother a grin.  "Despite all the money that's in
Prospector's Bank, Mister Balfour doesn't pay his tellers
much, even his senior tellers like Mister Middleton.
Suzie's allowance is much less than ours.  That means that
while the cost would be a setback for us, it was a major
expenditure for her.  She knows she could have spent far
less for Sis's present and that Sis wouldn't mind.  But
Suzie bought the compact instead.  In money terms, that
would be like..." she circled a hand in thought, "...like
Daddy buying another truck from your dad."

      Huntly interrupted.  "No.  I see where you're going.
You're saying Cinnamon liked it best because it was to
Suzie like the cost of my guitar or your earrings was to
her."  He withered when Wynter gave him a patient glare.

      "Obviously you need corrective lenses because you
don't see clearly.  Besides, I doubt that our presents
together represented that big of an impact on Sis.  But it
was a HUGE impact on Suzie.  So why did Suzie do it?
Because of her love for Sis.  THAT," she said, stabbing a
finger at Huntly, "is why it's her favorite.  It says 'I
love you' to Sis even more than my painting and your music
combined.  And I agree with her."

      Cinnamon, who had remained quiet while everyone else
spoke, hummed agreement.  She repositioned her cheek on
Huntly's chest and said nothing else.

      "Well, yeah, since you explain it that way."  He
sighed.  "Hey, your Ghostness!  Can I spend my night in the
doghouse with you?"

      Ghost rose to his feet, shook, and trotted out the
door.

      Huntly sighed.  "Not again.  I'm getting really tired
of that."

                            ~ ~ ~

      Wednesday evening, after dinner was over and she'd
helped clear the table and load the dishwasher, Wynter
retired to her room and compared her notes about the
echocardiogram procedure to the information in three
medical texts.  It wasn't as exciting as practical
obstetrics, but it sure was educational.  It wasn't about
bringing new lives into the world, but it helped keep
existing ones in it, and that was what medicine was all
about.  Well, except for alleviating pain and suffering, of
course.

      She sure could get interested in cardiology, too.

                            ~ ~ ~

      Kenny's clock said 3:22 on Friday morning as he
dashed into the bathroom.  His admission form in the ER
said 4:52 as he was wheeled into a room with his guts on
fire.

                            ~ ~ ~

      _Madre de Dios!_

      Juan Rodrigo De Ramirez y Sanchez shivered as he
slammed the door of Kaczynski's car, which he'd taken
because Kaczynski wouldn't be needing it for the rest of
eternity.  He looked across the hotel parking lot and up at
the bare ski slopes on the other side of the highway.  How
could people possibly live in these god-forsaken mountains
where it was always too damned cold, even in the middle of
summer?  He'd made a mistake in letting that _maricon_
asshole talk him into expanding into the mountains.

      Well, didn't have to worry about the _bastardo_
talking him into any more ridiculous plans, did he?  And as
soon as he'd sent the two local _maricons_ to join
whichever of the two corpses they'd conspired with to set
him up, he'd leave this God forsaken frozen state for good.
He'd concentrate on Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and
southern California.

      He yanked his suitcase out of the trunk, slammed the
lid, and checked the room number he'd written on his key
card despite the advice of the _chica_ at the Alpine Ridge
Hotel's front desk.  _Senoritas_, he reminded himself,
especially ones that cute, should be up in the rooms
providing horizontal entertainment the way _Dios_ himself
had intended, not working the front desks like men.

      He shivered and headed toward a side entrance.  He'd
enjoy the Saturday Brunch special, and then he'd start
looking for the two who had set him up.  He'd especially
enjoy eliminating that _poco maricon culito_ with the kung
fu crap.  There were plenty of opportunities where the
_bastardo's_ hands and feet would do him no good.

      Maybe he'd find an opportunity to let the bastard
scream himself to death, the way Kaczynski did.  And, like
he'd done with Kaczynski's, he'd find a way to hide the
body until nobody could recognize it.  If it was ever found.

      That thought warmed him.


Copyright Russell Hoisington 2007

***********************************************************
                   Concluded in Part Three
***********************************************************

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Russell Hoisington
State of Confusion

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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