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.

Part One

One

Richard King really, deeply, sincerely wished he hadn't done that. When the door to his hospital room opened he had, without thinking, turned his head to look. Despite the happy-time shots that Nurse Sue Kwan had given him, the movement detonated dynamite inside his skull, just above his left ear. He didn't feel much of anything else, but he definitely felt that and wondered if he could keep skull fragments from scattering.

Kevin K. Taylor, Senior, MD, and his entourage entered. _Morning rounds_, he realized. Except for the fact that it was Tuesday, June the first and a school day--_It is the first, isn't it? Or was I unconscious for more than one day this time? I should have asked Sue_--he wasn't all that surprised to see the slender form of a beautiful twelve-year-old blonde talking to Kevin. She wore a white lab coat embroidered with her name and had a stethoscope draped around her neck, and she looked as if she belonged in Kevin's traveling circus. _Traveling circus?_ Yes. That was what he called it during his other stays. Maybe. _Damned drugs_, he thought, though not with any emotional force. He didn't want to detonate more dynamite.

Most people would be surprised to see a twelve-year-old of either sex making hospital rounds, but Richard King wasn't most people. Neither was this most twelve-year-olds. He knew of no other who had 'Current Emergency Diagnosis, Fourth Edition' on her night stand for 'light reading' before she turned out her light and went to sleep.

Kevin gave Richard a cursory glance, one perhaps cloaking a smirk--or a sneer--and then said, "Okay, who'd like to present our next patient? How about..." Kevin made a big show of trying to decide who he would choose, "...Future Doctor King."

Wynter King, Future MD, parted her coral lips in a wide smile, exposing perfect, even teeth. The sparkle that Richard knew all too well ignited in her blue-green eyes. Ignoring the clipboard in her hand she spoke. "The patient is one Senor Klutz."

Richard winced twice, first in embarrassment and then again in pain. That was the name Police Officer Joe Lopez had given him after the most serious of his many vehicle wrecks. They had been awaiting arrival of the jaws of life so he could be removed from the twisted metal. Joe had used humor to distract Richard from the pain of his injuries, and the name stuck.

"Senor Klutz was found unconscious at the foot of his basement stairs at two-twenty this morning by his daughter, who summoned help and performed emergency first aid to stanch the flow of blood from a four-centimeter laceration running essentially horizontal approximately a half-centimeter above, and centered on, the patient's left ear. The patient lost an estimated one-point-five pints of blood, not enough to indicate any acute problem from blood loss.

"The patient has a severe contusion approximately eight centimeters long by four centimeters high located above the left half of the supraorbital torus, tangent with his beginning-to-recede hairline. Although the patient has additional contusions to his forearms, left leg, and the apex of his left pelvis, he has no broken bones. Nor does he have any new scars to add to the numerous others on his hands, arms, legs, and torso. He does, however, now have what promises to be an interesting first one under development on his head.

"Because Senor Klutz was attempting to descend carpeted basement stairs in the dark while wearing foam rubber flip-flop shower shoes, there is legitimate reason to believe that he is suffering the onset of senile dementia and should be tested for that condition."

Kevin, the bastard, did nothing to discourage her. Instead, he asked, "So, Future Doctor King, do you recommend that we allow the patient's family visiting privileges?"

Her long blonde ponytail lashed about as she emphatically shook her head. "That would not be advisable. I doubt the patient's wife has time to visit him anyway, since she has to remove blood from the carpet, file and polish her nails, and watch reruns of 'Sesame Street' to prepare herself for dealing with the patient at his own level. And the patient's twelve-year-old daughter shouldn't be exposed to a feebleminded individual who would perform such a ridiculous stunt. A brain with that degree of dendritic density could easily warp the fabric of the universe and cause her to take her .22-rifle to the post office and ask if they're hiring temporary help."

It was difficult to wonder who was writing her material while he was wincing in agony, but he managed to do both successfully. He suspected it was a community effort, no doubt aided and abetted by one Kevin Kenneth Taylor, Senior, Doctor of Sadism. For an instant he noticed Wynter's flinch as she realized the agony she had caused, but iron resolve immediately reappeared in her eyes. That, more than anything else, showed him just how pissed off she was.

It also showed him how much she had grown and matured in the thirteen or fourteen months since his last wreck had left him confined to bed with one leg and two arms in casts. At that time they were living in their isolated home in the mountains south of town. His wife, Angie, was in Europe on a no-notice business trip. A spring blizzard materialized. Ellen Carter, his resident nurse, had rushed to town to correct a prescription refill and had been trapped there by an avalanche that closed the road. Wynter, at that time a Future Nurse, had been pressed into duty as Actual Nurse. Every movement she made then was with the concern that she would do something wrong and cause him physical discomfort.

Now she was setting off dynamite in his skull and mostly taking it in stride. As much as he enjoyed watching her mature, at that moment he'd have given anything to have the old Wynter back.

"Thank you, Future Doctor King," Kevin said, giving her a warm smile. "That was quite succinct and extremely accurate. May I translate that to the patient in terms he can understand?"

Wynter dipped her head. "Certainly, Doctor Taylor." She moved aside.

Kevin stepped to the side of the bed, grasped his own clipboard in both hands behind his back, and lifted himself up-and-down once on his toes. "Senor Klutz, your Future Doctor daughter said you'd been a fucking idiot."

He expected Wynter to gasp. She did not. While the rest of the Traveling Circus nodded agreement, her blue-green eyes narrowed and stayed locked on his, her lips clamped in a firm line that did not waver. He had never seen her this pissed off at anyone or anything before. He began to worry about what had NOT been said in her presentation of his condition. Was he to be confined to bed again? How long? In the hospital, or could he use the hospital bed that sat in his home office?

He suddenly began to worry that Angie and Wynter would say that he could stay in the hospital, that they didn't want him to come home. _No. They wouldn't do that. Would they?_

He looked up at Kevin and mumbled through clenched teeth because moving his jaw blasted tiny flashes of agony through his temple, "I translate tha' m'self."

"I'd recommend a brain transplant, but we're fresh out of human brains at the moment. I might, however, be able to locate a squirrel for a donor. Even that would be an improvement." He turned to Wynter. "What's the current treatment regimen, Future Doctor?"

Wynter spoke in the crisp, accurate, professional tone that she always used when discussing medical matters. Ellen Carter had taught her well. Andrew Henderson was one of the best orthopedists in Colorado, but any of the sixth-graders in Wynter's class could do a better presentation. Wynter, however, could match any of the staff, even Kevin. Later, when Richard wasn't in agony, he'd feel fatherly pride for her ability.

He missed Kevin's asking Wynter for her recommendation and her suggesting an increase of his pain medication. He missed the departure of the traveling circus as it moved on to torment another helpless victim. He missed everything until gentle pressure on his lips caused him to awaken to the smell of peppermint. Kevin had shared his stock of candies with her before they made the morning rounds.

He returned the kiss, willingly accepting the flashes of pain in exchange for the opportunity to kiss the joy of his life. When her head drew back, he slowly asked through clenched teeth, "You real' piss'd at me, aren' you?"

"No," she said, leaning on her folded arms atop the bed's safety rail. "But I might calm down to that point later."

He groaned. "You have t' sound jus' like Mother w'n you say tha'?"

"Yes."

"I love oo." It wasn't easy to show how much he meant that, speaking through gritted teeth, but Wynter would understand and would know.

"I love you, too, but that doesn't change anything."

"Would..." he winced as a small bolt of lightning shot up the side of his head. "Would he'p if I say I sorry?"

She nodded and smiled for the first time. "Yes, but it might help more if you promised that you'd think next time before you do something dumb like that."

That hurt worse than his head did. "'Ey, who's paren' here?"

"Biologically or examplewise?"

He sighed. Carefully. "Gonna get worse w'n you' mother arrive, isn' it?"

Wynter looked up as the door swung open. She smiled again. "It's worse."

~ ~ ~

The elevator doors opened on the emergency room. Wynter stepped out and looked for Nurse Carter. She headed for the reception desk to ask Mrs. Erland if Nurse Carter had reported in. Halfway there, two men wearing EMT uniforms so white that it made their skin look even darker exited a treatment room in front of her.

The round face of the heavier man split with a wide grin. "Future Doctor King!"

Wynter's own smile exploded. "Hi, Mister Sanders!"

Harland Sanders bent down to accept a big hug, then straightened and said, "Wynter King, this is Bedpan Dornbush."

The other man, who was tall and almost as slender as Wynter, gave her a broad smile and offered his hand. "Colonel has told me all about you. I wasn't expecting to meet you so soon."

"I'm pleased to meet you," she said, giving his hand her best professional shake. "So you're Bedpan now?" She raised an eyebrow at Mister Sanders. "What name did Mister Kwan get?"

The EMT Corps members all had nicknames. The newest member of the EMTs was named "Bedpan" until one of two events happened: a newer EMT joined the Corps, or the current Bedpan earned a new nickname.

"Slugger," Mister Sanders said. "The naming ceremony was yesterday. His very first call was a heart attack at the Pine Lodge condos. Skier up for the weekend, a couch potato who overdid it but didn't have the heart attack until after he was back in his room. You know the type.

"His brother was with him, and he'd had a snootful. In fact, I don't know how he could stay conscious with that much alcohol in him, but he managed. And he got in the way. Slugger was paired with Ace that day. She did the mouth-to-mouth while he did the chest. The brother wouldn't stay out of the way, trying to pull Carter off the patient's chest, saying it was his brother and he'd do the heart massage. Carter couldn't think of any other way to stop him--nobody in the hall would help--so he knocked the brother out with one punch. He almost got the nickname 'Slugger' after his first run."

Mister Dornbush laughed along with Wynter, who suddenly stopped laughing and twisted her face in thought. "I guess that's okay, but I'd have named him 'Tae,'" she said.

The men gave each other a baffled look. "Why?" Mister Sanders asked.

Wynter shrugged. "Well, he's Korean and he knocked the guy out. Nurse Kwan says that he likes to cook, especially breads and muffins and cookies."

"Yeah," said Mister Sanders. "He's always bringing cookies for everyone when he's on duty."

"There you go," she said with a shrug. "He could have told everyone that his cookies were made with genuine Tae Kwan dough."

They blinked at her for a second. Then Mister Sanders turned to Mister Dornbush and said, "When we get back, remind me to see if a naming ceremony can be undone." Then he looked to Wynter again. "I hear Ace and Zoomie were at your place last night."

She sighed. "Daddy's been a klutz again."

He nodded. "So they said. Thank goodness he wasn't seriously hurt. You've been up to see him, I see." A flick of his hand indicated her stethoscope around her neck. It had been her birthday present from Doctor Taylor's son, Kenny, also a Future MD.

"Yes, sir. Mother took over the lecture when I ran out of breath. I came down to see Nurse Carter while Mother finishes. I think she had some words in mind that I'm not supposed to hear until I turn thirty-five."

"Oh," said Mister Sanders with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "Well, Ellen's not here for a few days. She's probably in California now."

"She's riding with Mister Hughes in his truck?"

Both men nodded. "Yeah," said Mister Dornbush with a grin.

"Confidentially," said Mister Sanders, looking around as if checking for eavesdroppers, "I wouldn't be surprised if they tie the knot soon."

Wynter just knew that her professional look had vanished with the smile that swept over her face. "Wow! That's great! They're both really nice people, and they deserve each other."

"And speaking of really nice people who deserve each other, is Jimmy with you?"

She shook her head ruefully. 'Rueful' was a new word she'd just learned, and she liked the sound of it. "No, sir, he's in school. Today is the last day of review before final tests."

"Oh. Well, you don't need to be there for that, do you?"

She shrugged. "I do for history this morning." She looked at her watch. "But the review started four minutes ago. If I don't get an 'A' in it this semester, I'm going to blame Daddy."

Mister Sanders gave a pitiful look to Mister Dornbush. "Lord help him," he said.

~ ~ ~

Wynter arrived at Griffin Middle School just as the bell rang for lunch. She kissed Mother good-bye, grabbed her backpack, and hurried to her locker. She hated to turn down Mother's offer to have lunch together, but she knew that Jimmy and the others would be worried about Daddy, and that worry would grow worse the longer they had to wait. It wouldn't be polite to increase their anxiety disorder. Wynter always tried to be polite, following the example set by Jimmy, who was the most polite person she knew--except maybe for Daddy and Doctor Taylor, that is, but they'd had more years of practice.

She saw Jimmy McCauley's red hair as he closed his locker, an upper one next to hers, and turned toward the lunch room. A brown-haired boy almost as tall as Jimmy said something to him. As Jimmy spun around, the second boy looked down and spoke to someone Wynter couldn't see, though she knew who it was.

Wynter felt tingly all over when Jimmy's handsome face exploded in the smile that said he loved her with all his heart. He gave her his familiar grin-and-nod and had her combination lock open by the time she arrived. They hugged each other. She wished she could give him the kiss she had in mind, but she sure couldn't right there in the main hallway. They had to settle for mutual I love yous.

Jimmy put her backpack in her locker while she gave a quick hug to Huntly Sheridan and leaned down to give another to her 'adopted older sister,' Cinnamon Brees.

"So how is he?" Cinnamon asked, her lustrous green eyes narrowed with concern.

"I think he's not going to do anything that dumb again."

"Don't bet on it. Doing stupid things when you know better is a male flaw. Just ask shithead."

"Bitch," Huntly muttered, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. But he didn't argue. While recovering from a knee injury back in January he'd disobeyed his father and had gone skiing with Josh Carter. A snow bunny had cut in front of him, they'd gone down in a tangle, and the resulting additional damage had put him in a wheelchair for a while. His football days ended immediately. He'd received word a few days ago that basketball and golf were also out. Not that he played golf, because he found watching snails race to be more exciting, but now he knew he never would. Baseball hadn't been ruled out yet, but he knew that the end of basketball also meant the end of baseball, too. The twisting and turning on his knee might not be as constant as with basketball, but baseball could put an even greater strain on the damaged ligaments.

Wynter looked at up at Huntly, and then down again to Sis, who was scooping back her long red hair in both hands, letting it drop down below her gluteus maximi. She nodded to Sis. "Good point."

As Huntly sighed in chagrin, Jimmy snapped the lock in place and put an arm around her. Her left hand moved to its usual resting place on his back, a spot between his belt and ribs, in a motion as smooth and automatic as morning sunrise. "So, it was what you thought?" Jimmy asked.

Jimmy had been awakened by the sirens racing down Seabridge Trail toward Wynter's house. Jimmy didn't need his high IQ to know where they were headed. He'd leapt out of bed, jumped on his bicycle, and raced the block to Wynter's house, arriving before Daddy had been brought upstairs.

"Yes," she said. "Nothing broken, just the scalp laceration and contusions. Doctor Taylor had me present the patient."

Jimmy and Huntly both looked pained. Cinnamon's eyes narrowed as her wide smile pushed her full cheeks upward. "I hope it wasn't pleasant for him."

Wynter shrugged. "No. I asked myself what you would do, and then did it. I don't think he will want to go through that again, so maybe some of the lesson will stick."

"I hope so," Cinnamon said with an evil grin. Lots of people could do evil grins that weren't too bad. Cinnamon could do one that caused involuntary urination. "Otherwise, I'll do rounds next time, and he'll learn just how gentle you actually were to him. Was Daddy there to see it?"

"Unh uh. Mrs. Malcolm was in two minute contractions, so he was in the delivery room. Where are Kenny and Suzie?"

Jimmy's back muscles tensed slightly as the others looked uncomfortably at each other. "Oh, no! They're fighting again?"

She looked at Jimmy and understood the expression on his face. Wynter had almost as good a grasp of nonverbal communication as Cinnamon did, but she never needed that to know what Jimmy was thinking. "They broke up again!"

"They're going to be doing it true doggie style now," Huntly said with a rueful shake of his head.

Her face twisted into a puzzled frown. "What do you mean?"

Huntly shrugged. "He's going to sit up and beg, and she's going to roll over and play dead."

Cinnamon rolled her eyes. "Shithead."

"Bitch."

Wynter ignored them and asked Jimmy, "How?"

As always, Jimmy understood her meaning. "Suzie and Kenny aren't talking, of course. My Future Sister-in-Law knows more about it than I do. You know how she gets information out of people."

Wynter sure did. The only one who might be better at diagnosing a situation from just a few symptoms was Ron Lopez, who was in high school, but even Ron wasn't Cinnamon's equal in getting information from people who didn't want to talk. "Sis?"

Cinnamon's face relaxed. "You know how Suzie said she was going to win the state swimming competition for Kenny because he'd been too sick to attend? Well, she got back from Denver earlier than planned."

"Uh huh," said Wynter. "She called me and then said she didn't want me to tell Kenny she was back early. She wanted to surprise him and show him her medals and tell him she'd won them all just for him."

"She surprised him, all right. Kenny wasn't too sick for a little 'action,' it seems. Suzie walked in on them."

"Judy Chase," Jimmy said. "She's been hanging around him all the time for a couple of months, now. She even showed up and tried to sit with Kenny the weekend the swim meet was here. Had to be Judy Chase."

"I agree," said Huntly.

"Maybe," Cinnamon said before Wynter could speak. "I know Tiffany Jones was sitting on his face. But I have the distinct impression that Kenny had at least a threesome going. If so, then I'd bet good money on Judy."

"Man," Huntly said in a jealous tone, "some guys know how to live."

Cinnamon slowly, deliberately, fixed him with a steady glare. For a second, Wynter actually thought she'd heard him whimper before he cleared his throat and asked how Cinnamon knew that. Huntly was trying to change the subject, but Wynter knew he'd have better luck trying to change the moon's orbit.

Cinnamon finally said, "The same way I know you did her last week."

While nobody knew exactly how she knew that tidbit, either, nobody doubted that it was true. Wynter and Jimmy wouldn't have doubted it even if they hadn't read verification in Huntly's face. Cinnamon sometimes stated suspicions as facts to get you to admit that she'd guessed right, but both Wynter and Jimmy knew she was stating facts this time, not attempting a trick. They also knew that if Cinnamon didn't voluntarily tell you how she knew something, you were wasting breath asking her.

Huntly squirmed. "Well, you're the one who said we don't have exclusive contracts on each other."

"I know I did," she said, "and I meant it. So why are you acting guilty?"

Huntly deliberately looked at the hall clock. "We're going to miss lunch," he said.

~ ~ ~

Mitchell Brees, MD, OB/GYN, knocked, waited two seconds, and stuck his head in the door. "Sorry I missed rounds this morning, but I had a breech to contend with. I hear things went well."

Richard was afraid to speak loud enough for Mitch to hear him, despite the increase he'd received in his medication, so he elevated his right middle finger instead.

"Obviously you're beckoning for me to enter," Mitch said. "Thank you." He closed the door and checked the physician's notes. "Say, this person isn't qualified to be a doctor! Her handwriting is far too neat and legible."

Richard said something that sounded like, "Esso."

Mitch chuckled. "Hey, this is the room I was in with the pre-migraine syndrome. It was your first one here, you said. Welcome home! I'd repay your kindness and bring you some non-hospital coffee if only you deserved it."

"Isn' an'body gonna gimme symp'thy?" Richard slurred through clenched teeth.

Mitch held up one hand and started counting on his fingers. "Well, there's... uh... no."

This time it sounded more like, "Asso."

"You aren't giving yourself sympathy are you?"

Richard looked like he was about to shake his head before common sense took over. He sighed and closed his eyes. "Unh." It was a grunt of resignation.

"I thought not. I heard Wynter did an excellent presentation, though for her that's like saying that water is wet and the sky is blue."

"Kev'n kep' encour'gn her. Prob'ly wrote half her mater'l for her."

"Actually," Mitch said, checking his watch for the time he had left, "all Kevin did was tell her to bring her stethoscope and be prepared to make rounds. The rest was all Wynter's doing. She's really quite good, you know. Maybe when you grow up, you'll be as smart as she is, but I'm not counting on it."

Richard's eyes opened. He frowned suspiciously, though slowly, as if worried that the muscle tension might trigger another flash of pain. "Angie ask you gimme this grill'n?"

"No." Mitch put an entire sentence in that one word.

"Damn!" mumbled Richard as he closed his eyes again. "She REAL' was pis'd!"

~ ~ ~

Wynter took in Mr. Shelby's science classroom in one glance. She wasn't as good as Cinnamon or even Mr. Shelby in doing that, but she'd been practicing. Good doctors had to be able to see everything quickly and watch for subtle clues all the time in order to make correct diagnoses. Suzie was ignoring Kenny. He was ignoring her, too. Or pretending to. His eyes kept wandering over to her, and he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding his misery from anyone who really knew him.

They had chosen opposite sides of the cafeteria, surrounded by others so that Wynter and her friends had to sit elsewhere. Then, after lunch, they had vanished. Wynter agreed with Cinnamon that they had done so separately.

Her hand on Jimmy's back made two quick pats. They separated, Jimmy moving toward Kenny and Wynter to Suzie. They had debated the best way to pair up. Cinnamon had noted that it probably didn't make any difference. Wynter was afraid her sister was right again.

Still holding her books, she stopped beside Suzie's desk as the right thing to say suddenly burst forth in her mind. "Suzie?"

Suzie slowly looked up, her gray-green eyes narrowing. Her blondish-red hair seemed to grow lighter as her round face darkened with the shade of red that made sensible people back away from her quickly. "Look!"

Wynter held up her free hand. "Wait. I'm not going to ask any questions now. Okay? I just wanted to say that anytime you want to talk to me, I'm ready to listen and to help if I can. Okay? You know we're best friends, and that's what best friends do for each other. I helped before, and I'll do what I can this time, too, whenever you're ready. That's all I wanted to say. Well, that and I love you like a sister, too."

When she said nothing else, Suzie's face cooled and a hint of a smile tried to break through. "Thanks. I'm so tired of everyone..."

"I know. But I'm not everyone."

Suzie nodded. "Yeah. But it's not like before with that stupid dolt."

Wynter looked around. Several people were deliberately not looking at them, which meant their ears were straining for the words. "We don't have to talk about it here," she said, using her eyes to indicate the on-lookers. Or more properly, she decided, the on-listeners.

Suzie wasn't as dumb as people thought. In fact, her problem, diagnosed by Cinnamon when Wynter had failed to diagnose it herself, was dyslexia. She was very good at non-verbal communication and understood Wynter's meaning. "Maybe after tests are over Wednesday."

"You want to come over after school? We can study together. Jimmy can study with Huntly or Timmy or Cinnamon."

Suzie's eyes flicked to Jimmy and Kenny and flashed anger before returning to Wynter's. "I would, but I, um, already have other plans. She checked to see if anyone was looking and then silently mouthed, "Josh."

Josh Carter was on the boys' swim team. Suzie had been privately coaching Josh. Miss Jackson, Suzie's coach, wasn't surprised when Josh had won a silver medal at the State Meet and had given the credit to Suzie because of her help. Miss Jackson had said that Suzie was a natural coach and could work with her any time, if that's what Suzie wanted to do with her life. But, as far as Wynter knew, Suzie's only interest in Josh was on a coach/pupil basis. She assumed that Suzie had made plans to study with him because they lived near each other and had already established a 'professional' friendship because of the swim team.

"Okay. How was the assembly this morning?" Because she'd been at the hospital, Wynter had missed the special assembly that the school had held for the swim team in general and Suzie in particular. Over the main entrance to the school was a banner welcoming the 2004 State Swimming Champion, Suzanne Middleton. Other banners had been put up when Suzie broke Miss Jackson's school records. Kenny had said that the undated banners meant that Miss Jackson had ordered them in advance, perhaps even the previous year. Wynter was sure that Miss Jackson had ordered today's banner in advance, too.

Suzie smiled broadly. She never tired of positive attention. "It was great! How's your dad?"

Wynter glanced over her shoulder to see Mr. Shelby enter the room and take attendance at a glance. "I think he was doing a lot better before I made rounds with Doctor Taylor this morning."

Suzie grinned. "Well, remind me to look surprised next Tuesday."

"I'll bet he thinks before he acts next time. Cinnamon said that if he doesn't, she'll make the rounds instead of me, and he'll think I'd been gentle."

"Well, Cinnamon should be enough, but if not, then I'll have to go yell at him or something."

The second bell rang and Mister Shelby told everyone to take their seats. "Suzie, no!" Wynter said in a worried voice. "I don't mind making him uncomfortable if it teaches him to not hurt himself, but I don't want to kill him!"

Suzie giggled and then glared in Kenny's direction as Wynter walked away.

~ ~ ~

Kenny watched as Wynter and Jimmy split. Wynter was obviously heading for Suzie, otherwise she'd have gone the other way around to her desk, and Jimmy was looking straight at him as he approached. He groaned to himself, then said, "Later," to Josh Carter and Larry Oligon. He didn't want to leave, mostly because of the way Josh's eyes kept glancing at Suzie, but he knew he didn't want anyone else hearing what Jimmy had to say.

Kenny smoothly flowed sideways, as far away from everyone else as he could get, without taking his eyes from Jimmy's.

"Got a minute?" Jimmy asked.

Kenny forced himself to relax. He was ready to strike with any of several martial arts techniques he was learning from Ron Lopez. "Look," he said, "I'm not gonna talk about it. Didn't you learn that before?"

Jimmy's eyes and posture said that he'd understood Kenny's change in stance. "Oh, I'm not going to ask you what happened. I already know about Judy and Tiffany."

Kenny was sure that Jimmy was trying to get him to admit that Jimmy had guessed right. He also thought that his eyes had betrayed him. Then Jimmy's face changed slightly. "What?" Kenny asked.

Jimmy shook his head. "You need to get Ron to teach you how to control your pupils. If I didn't already know before, I'd know now, you putz."

Kenny's teeth clenched. He forced his jaws to relax. "I'm not gonna talk about it, I told you."

Jimmy waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh, I'm not asking you to. I just have one question for you, and you can answer it later, after you've had time to think about it."

Kenny cranked his suspicion index up another notch. "What?"

"I just wanted to ask if Judy and Tiffany were worth it. You don't have to tell me, but I think you need to answer that question to yourself, putz." He turned and walked away without waiting for Kenny to respond.

Kenny's eyes flicked to Suzie talking with Wynter. Suzie was deliberately ignoring him again. Just the way Judy had ignored him when he'd tried to talk to her before lunch. Tiffany had spoken to him, but mostly she just stalled, saying she'd talk to him "later."

His fantasy of a threesome hadn't been what he'd expected, not by a long shot. Judy talked a good line, but she really had no clue about how to suck a dick properly, even after Tiffany had shown her. It was okay--no blowjob was "bad" as long as it didn't involve teeth--but it wasn't anything spectacular. 'Dear Diary: not much happened today except for winning at Doom. Oh yes, I got a blowjob. (Signed) Kenny.'

Tiffany had gotten off twice while she sat on his face. She'd been the only one to get her cookies before Suzie burst into his room, long before she was supposed to have returned to town. Tiffany and Judy had thrown on their clothes and fled immediately after Suzie ran out in tears.

Mrs. Holland, the housekeeper, was as clueless as ever about what had really happened. Mom wasn't able to prove anything, but she was suspicious in the right direction. He'd sat through an hour of lectures from his parents that night, and then little brother Charlie had taunted him whenever their parents couldn't hear him. He guessed that beat being grounded again.

"SHIT!" he muttered in exasperation. All he wanted was to have a threesome with two girls, something Suzie didn't want to do. Was that so much to ask? It was just sex, after all. He wasn't in love with them, NO WAY! All he wanted was a little jumpin' and humpin' after being so sick with that chronic weird intestinal problem that nobody could diagnose or cure. He'd been too sick to have any action with Suzie before she left for the state swim meet--though she did offer to handjob him, and also to blow him a little if people would stay the hell out of his hospital room. Unfortunately, his guts had hurt too much for that.

Didn't he deserve the opportunity to make up for what he'd missed from Suzie? Especially since she hadn't been there for him when he'd come home from the hospital?

He refocused and glanced toward Suzie. Wynter was walking to her desk and Suzie was glaring at him. Her eyes dropped to her desk when she saw him look in her direction.

The news broadcast of that evening sprang to life in his mind. He saw Suzie telling the governor that she hadn't won the state championship for herself. She'd won it for her very best friend in the whole world, who had been too sick to come watch her compete.

The answer to Jimmy's question was, "No."

~ ~ ~

Richard opened his eyes. Kevin was standing at the foot of the bed, reviewing the chart. "Shit," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Ah, you're awake!" Kevin said in a too-loud voice. "Too bad. I was looking forward to waking you up with this." He held up a toy bugle. Between Kevin and Ted Delvy, the pediatrician, the Blue Spruce Regional Hospital had enough toys and gadgets to equip any major children's day care center in Denver. His disappointed look widened into a huge grin. "Tomorrow morning I plan to have Mitch bring in a couple of Cinnamon's cymbals, her bass drum, and maybe the snare, too."

Richard sighed. Carefully. His latest shots were wearing off. "I'm goin' rename this room th' Outhouse, 'cause all th' ass'oles in here."

Kevin nodded. "Including the one who's taken up residence."

"I'm not goin' home?"

"Are you kidding? The next two days are finals. Wynter has to be in school. Angie was supposed to go to Denver this morning, remember? But you fucked that up for her, so she's leaving late this afternoon and will be gone tomorrow and maybe Thursday, too. Ellen's with Dusty in California. You're stuck here. Unless you want me to see if the Barracuda will come out of retirement to be your home nurse."

"F'k."

"Whoa! What happened to that positive mental attitude? Say, I think I can schedule a consultation with a really cute and competent Future MD who can give you a nice long lecture on how a positive mental attitude can contribute to faster recovery, if you need a reminder."

Richard sighed. "Whassit like bein' hors' ass?"

He knew he'd been maneuvered into asking something like that when Kevin smiled and reached inside his lab coat. He pulled out a small hand mirror and held it for Richard to look at himself. The bastard didn't say anything. He just smiled for a moment and then put away the mirror.

"Wyn'r's idea, isn' it?"

Kevin's brown eyes went wide, and one hand flew up to cover his gaping mouth. "You think so? Damn! What could have given you the idea? Huh? You have wrecks that aren't your fault and she bends over backward to help you."

Richard fought to keep his eyes from reacting to that last sentence. Kevin's statement held far greater truth than he'd realized.

"But then you, the possessor of the world's most hyperactive klutz genes--that's her diagnosis, by the way--do something that's incredibly stupid even for a coordinated and lucky person. Thanks to Dragon, who woke her instead of Angie, she was the one who found you in a bloody crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. Where you could have lain until morning with a broken neck if Dragon hadn't investigated the noise."

Kevin leaned forward and fixed him with a cold hard stare. "Ever wonder what effect something like that might have on a twelve-year-old girl, even if she is a Future MD? Ever wonder what finding somebody she cares about in that crumpled, bloody heap at the bottom of the basement stairs might do to her before she learns his injuries are relatively minor compared to what his past experiences have taught her to expect? Hmmm?"

"Yeah," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "T'ink I do."

"Yeah." Kevin straightened. "You know, half the hospital is ready to walk in here and thump you upside your thick head, but not until after the shots wear off. And it's not at her insistence, either. They are PISSED at what you put her through. It bothers the shit out of me that the people who work here are more worried about your daughter than you are."

Kevin snapped his fingers, as if a thought had just occurred. "Say, who was that son of a bitch who got all pissed off at Don Middleton for not telling Suzie that her sister was HIV positive and left it up to Wynter to console Suzie AFTER blurting out Caroline's condition because she was unaware that Suzie didn't know? Must have been Wynter's other father, you think? Well, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you don't put her through that again. You aren't going home until Friday, and then only if I think you've learned your lesson."

Richard sighed, but he couldn't argue with Kevin, either because of the pain or because of the logic. "Un'erstood."

The door opened. Sue Kwan had brought his meds and the cart to check his vital signs.

Kevin gave Richard one last long look and turned to Sue. "Let me know if there's any change, especially if you find any signs of intelligence. I won't hold my breath waiting for that last one." He looked over his shoulder at Richard. "You know, something is definitely wrong when I have to be the adult between the two of us."

Richard pondered all that Kevin had said while Sue silently attended to her duties. When she left he lay there waiting for the shots to knock him out.

His last conscious thoughts were about what Wynter's response to his stupidity had been and how she'd gotten her point across with no ifs, ands, or buts. _Damn_, he thought, _I sure am proud of her_.

Two

Wynter returned Mrs. McCauley's big hug and updated her on Daddy's condition. Jimmy had a whispered conversation with his mom and then escorted Wynter up the stairs to his room. With Mother out of town and Daddy in the hospital, she'd accepted an invitation to have dinner with Jimmy's family. Afterward they would all visit Daddy in the hospital.

Wynter planned to spend the night at home. "Dragon would worry if he was alone in the house all night," was her explanation. Jimmy volunteered to stay with her and keep her company. Mrs. McCauley agreed. Wynter wasn't surprised. They had spent the night alone together in the house before. Mrs. McCauley might not suspect they were sexually active, but Wynter was sure the woman did because she was pretty smart And she was well aware that they had already slept together while naked.

That sure seemed like a lifetime ago, way back in September when they had been trapped in the Hargus Mine. Two high school thugs had kidnapped both of them plus Suzie while they were exploring Hargus City, a ghost town off the road to Wynter's former mountain home. The punks had missed Kenny Taylor, who was in the woods relieving a diarrhea problem, one symptom of his strange abdominal illness. Kenny saw the kidnapping and rescued Suzie, but he became caught at the edge of the rubble from the cave-in caused by one of the bullies.

Wynter and Jimmy, trapped on the other side of the collapse, had fallen into a drainage sump while running away from the cave-in. They had to remove their clothing and rinse with bottled water to avoid skin damage from acids in the sump. With no dry clothing in their packs, they'd huddled together under blankets to stay warm while Suzie summoned help and Wynter's father, a geological engineer who did his Master's Degree thesis on the mine, coordinated the rescue teams that saved them.

Wynter had been astonished to discover that Jimmy had the same feelings for her that she secretly felt for him. And while Kenny was in the hospital, he and Suzie learned that they had a mutual interest in each other, too. As a result, the Hargus Four, as they became known, paired into girlfriends and boyfriends.

But now, for the second time, Suzie had broken off her relationship with Kenny. The first was caused by Suzie's older sister, Caroline, trying to ruin Suzie's relationship out of jealousy. This time it was because Suzie had caught Kenny having sexual activities with two other girls.

Wynter sure was glad that nothing like that would ever come between herself and Jimmy. Well, she hoped nothing would. Jimmy wasn't her first lover, though she knew there would never be a third one. She couldn't tell Jimmy about the first one because of who he was. When she was trapped in their mountain home with her father, who was a bedridden invalid because of traction and his three casts, she'd discovered sexual activities through him.

Jimmy was too straitlaced to accept that for now, though she and Cinnamon had been performing what they called a "prudectomy" to prepare Jimmy in case he stumbled on the truth before Wynter decided he was ready to know. Cinnamon knew because her skills at observation allowed her to observe the symptoms that she needed to diagnose the relationship, symptoms that the little redhead was attuned to because of her own fatherly relationship.

Halting at his door, Jimmy, always the gentleman, held out his arm and allowed Wynter to enter his room first. They placed their backpacks on his desk and indulged in the kiss that both had been awaiting all day. She felt the arrowhead she had given him, a gift he wore on a leather thong around his neck, press into her chest. That raised the intensity of her kiss, and she was swept away by her love for him. She lost all track of time and didn't care because she was with Jimmy, and that was all that mattered to her.

Wynter slowly opened her eyes as they finally pulled away, enjoying the dreamy feeling that ran throughout her entire body. She gazed deeply into the green eyes that said he loved her with all his heart...

...and focused on the wall behind him. "You moved your Star Wars cartoon," she said.

Jimmy pretended to be cross, but he looked too dreamy himself for it to be effective. "Your Future Husband gives you his first kiss of the day, and you want to discuss the house furnishings? Maybe we already are married and have mutual amnesia about it."

"Smarty pants!" she retorted disdainfully and kissed him again.

"Okay," she said, "there's your second kiss. Now let's talk about the house furnishings."

He gave her his characteristic grin-and-nod. "So now who's being a smarty pants? It's over there." He pointed to the wall opposite the door, where he'd collected all her cartoons into a group. A large group. The Star Wars cartoon, with the Hargus Four as different characters from the movies, hung in the center. It was his favorite cartoon not only because it was the first one she'd ever drawn, but also because they had first held hands during the 'Star Wars II' movie. "But I haven't moved the deer and her baby."

After the movie they had again held hands in Otter Park, where they'd quietly watched a deer and her baby come to drink from Porcupine Creek. Wynter had commemorated the event in a breath-takingly beautiful colored pencil drawing, adding in other birds and animals until she had created a highly detailed scene people always got lost in. Jimmy loved all of the artwork she'd given him, even her first oil painting, the one of Jimmy as a knight that now hung in the McCauley living room, but that drawing was his favorite. He'd put it on the wall where it would be the first thing he saw when he climbed out of bed.

She pulled his head down until their noses touched. "So what are you going to put beside the door to look at when you leave the room now? A picture of Sis?"

He grinned and pulled away. "This." He opened a desk drawer and removed a framed picture of Wynter, head partially down, looking toward the lower right corner of the frame. She recognized the curtains behind her and the top of the red dress she'd been wearing. "Jimmy! This is from the talent show! When did you take it? And how?"

"I didn't," he said. "Mrs. Katzmarek took it. Amy finally realized I might like to have a copy of it and gave it to me last night. Mom got a frame for it today and put it in the drawer for me." He took the picture from her, turned, and placed it on the wall hanger that had previously held the Star Wars cartoon. "There. That's much better," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take a potty break. Ladies first if you need to go."

She did. She emerged from the bathroom to find Mrs. McCauley climbing the stairs with juice and cookies on a tray. "You keep feeding me cookies, and I'm going to get fat," she warned.

Jimmy's mother laughed. "Honey, it wouldn't hurt you to gain a few pounds. Just don't overdo it until you're maybe my age, the way I'm doing."

Mrs. McCauley wasn't that much overweight; not nearly as much as many of the mothers of that age whom Wynter knew. "Okay," she said, "I'll have an extra one since they're so good."

"Two extra," Mrs. McCauley said with a stern frown that made Wynter giggle. The phone rang. "Honey, would you take these, and I'll go get the phone downstairs?"

Wynter put the tray on Jimmy's desk and waited for him to use the bathroom before helping herself. While he was out of the room she looked around. His synthesizer keyboard was in his room instead of in the basement room where they had rehearsed for the talent show. She looked at the sheet music face up on it.

"'Mariner No. 4'," she read, "organ music." She placed her hands on the keys, checked the tempo notation, ran the opening through her head twice, and rolled the first six chords, then waited through the rests until the organ music began again. She used the settings Jimmy had last used, assuming it was for this piece. As she played the main theme she decided she really and truly liked it and wondered what the other parts sounded like with it. It didn't sound much like the surf music that...

Jimmy burst into the room. "You weren't supposed to see that!"

She jerked her fingers from the keyboard as if it had suddenly turned to lava. "Jimmy, I'm sorry! I didn't know."

"It's not your fault," he said. "It's mine for leaving it sitting out. You wouldn't have found it if I'd thought to turn it over when I left this morning."

He was right about that. Although Jimmy and Wynter shared almost everything, neither pried into the other's personal business. Each assumed that anything not exposed to public view was private until told otherwise. "I'm really and truly sorry. You wanted to surprise me with it?" She'd have assumed that it was something he'd composed for her, the way he'd composed 'Wynter's Song' for her birthday, if it hadn't been commercially printed music.

He shrugged one shoulder. "Well, it's not my idea," he said.

"Ah." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Sis."

He gave her his grin-and-nod. "Yeah. Huntly's having some problems with it, and she doesn't want anyone to hear it until his birthday party. Junior and the Twins will perform."

That sure didn't make any sense. 'Junior and the Twins' was Cinnamon's surf music band, with Huntly himself on lead guitar. Jimmy played keyboards, his father played rhythm guitar, LaMarcus Reed was on bass, and Cinnamon was the best drummer the state of Colorado had ever seen. And Huntly's party was being held at Cinnamon's house, when traditionally it was held at the home of the guest of honor.

These were symptoms. Wynter put on her diagnosis cap and tried to analyze the problem the way Cinnamon would. Cinnamon had her main drum set at home as well as the practice kit in Jimmy's basement practice room. Jimmy's face said he was hiding a secret, which was another symptom. _Why would Sis... Aha!_

"So," she said in a conversational voice, pausing to give him a quick kiss, "what color is it?"

"What color is what?"

She grinned at the suspicion in his voice and the way his green eyes narrowed just a tiny bit. "Huntly's new guitar. You've seen it, haven't you? Or did she just show you a picture of it?"

Jimmy groaned and sat on the edge of his bed. She sat across his lap and kissed him again before he asked, "Non-verbal communication?"

She shrugged. "Maybe a little, though it was just a symptom and not the answer." She kissed him again when she saw how miserable he looked. Any afternoon she found excuses to keep kissing Jimmy was a pretty darned good one as far as she was concerned. Not that they needed excuses, of course.

"It's supposed to arrive tomorrow or Thursday. One of Cinnamon's friends in Boston is having it shipped directly from the factory in Scottsdale. Um, Arizona," he added as if he thought she might not know where Scottsdale was. "Dad is going to take care of the tuning himself. Something special about the way it's made. 'Double locking tremolo,' whatever that means. Dad will tune it in advance for the performance. I know because I accidentally heard him talking to her about it after rehearsal last month. If she spent as much on your diamond earrings for your birthday as she's spending on Huntly's guitar, maybe you'd better not wear them anyplace but a bank vault."

Wynter shrugged. "She said for me to not worry about the cost, but to enjoy them and wear them whenever I liked. She said that people who spend all their time worrying about money never learn to appreciate what it buys."

"Huh. Maybe, I guess. Well, I guess I'll know for sure when you make us rich. So, what do we study first?"

She appreciated the fact that he didn't feel the need to ask that she not say anything to Cinnamon. Jimmy trusted her as fully and as implicitly as she trusted him, and that made her heart swell until it seemed too big for her chest.

"History," she said, "since we'll be studying anatomy later tonight. History's my weakest subject, after all."

"Did I tell you that Cinnamon said that's the difference between us? I'm better at history because I spend so much time in the past." Jimmy loved medieval movies and games. "You spend all your time thinking about the future."

"That," she said before covering his mouth with hers, "is why we make such a good team. We have all the aspects covered."

It was some time before they came up for air and began studying.

~ ~ ~

Suzie caught herself just in time. She was about to turn into Lori Carter's room out of habit or something. Josh Carter's house, which was a couple of blocks away in the same subdivision, had the same floor plan as Suzie's. That is, it was the same except that when Josh's father had enclosed the carport, he'd had enough sense to move it back so that the stupid kitchen window didn't look into the stupid garage afterward. Lori had the room that was Suzie's in the Middletons' house.

Josh had the room that in Suzie's house was normally occupied by Suzie's sister, Caroline. Only now Caroline was in the girls' correctional thingy in Buena Vista for a year, where the judge had put her when she cut off that stupid Ray Simons' pecker because he'd given the stupid cow AIDS. Or, anyway, the stupid HIV virus, which Wynter had said wasn't exactly the same thing.

Josh placed an extra chair beside his desk for Suzie. "I'm glad we can study together," he said. "Maybe I can help pay you back for the coaching you did for me. I couldn't have won that medal without your help."

Suzie followed his eyes to the gold swimming medal hanging in a small display case on the wall. Her eyes returned to him. "That's just the first of many, I'm sure," she said. "I'd bet the next one is gold, too."

"That would be nice, but I'll never have as many as you," he said. "Gold or otherwise."

Suzie didn't mean to give Josh such a hard look. She'd won her medals for Kenny. He'd been in the hospital with his mysterious stomach sickness and unable to attend the state swim meet, so she'd tried ever so hard. It had been more important for her to win for Kenny than it had been for her to beat the stupid little witch from Alamosa whose cheating had kept Suzie from winning first place the year before. She'd done all that for the stupid dolt, and then she'd caught him having a gangbang with Tiffany Jones and Judy Chase when she came home early.

She forced the thoughts out of her head and gave Josh a nice smile. That wasn't difficult to do. Josh was a nice person who had always encouraged her. "Maybe you will. You have two coaches now."

She thought Josh looked flosstered, or whatever that stupid word was. He shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, but only one gives me personal attention. Mister Wallace has all the other boys to worry about."

"Well, now you're gonna get more personalized coaching. I'll coach you in history, and you can coach me in math as payback."

"Deal," he said, and they spread their books on his desk.

An hour later she noticed Josh seemed uncomfortable. Something was strange about his eyes. After a minute she realized that the way she was sitting caused the wide neck of her blouse to gap open where he could look at her bra. Josh was trying ever so hard not to do so. He was so unlike that stupid Kenny. That dolt was always trying to look down her blouse, and had been doing so since her boobies had started to grow.

She straightened and stretched, letting the movements shift her blouse in a natural manner. Josh seemed relieved, whereas the dolt would have complained. She'd never really thought about how Josh was such a gentleman, but he was, especially around her.

Josh stopped to stretch, too, noting how good it felt to get the kinks out. His foot accidentally touched hers, but he jerked it away immediately. Faster than she could even think, her foot scooted off and pressed itself against the side of Josh's. He jumped slightly in surprise or something but didn't move his foot away again.

By the time they finished their shoulders were touching too. Josh sounded honestly disappointed when he said that he was sorry Suzie had to go home and they couldn't study more. She didn't know why for sure, but she felt sorry, too.

They hugged each other goodbye at the door. It wasn't anything special. Members of the swim team often hugged each other after a good performance. But it somehow seemed special to Suzie. Once again she acted faster than she could think and kissed him on the cheek, the way the girls sometimes did to congratulate the boys on the swim team. "Thanks for everything," she said. She thought he turned a cute shade of red. Actually, she thought he was kinda cute even when he wasn't red.

She made her farewells with Mrs. Carter and let Josh escort her out to her bike. Mister Carter pulled into the driveway as she raised the kickstand. She spoke with him for a moment and then rode out onto Thirteenth Street and turned left. In her mirror she saw Josh watching her until she turned right on Wheeler Way.

~ ~ ~

Cinnamon grinned as Huntly and Kenny broke off at Kenny's driveway. "Just remember that you're supposed to study school subjects and not internet porn," she said.

Kenny shot her the bird while Huntly sighed, "Bitch."

"Shithead." She twisted her head to the right. "You still doing okay?"

Tyrone Hayes was struggling with his new bicycle. He wasn't used to having one with gears or with tires that didn't need inflating every time he rode it. "I'll manage, Little Momma."

Tyrone was Cinnamon's project for the year. Well, one of them if you also counted Huntly. She'd convinced Tyrone to stop trying to do rap that everyone hated--Tyrone frequently placed dead last in rap competitions--and start using the wonderful singing voice that he'd tried to keep hidden. She'd convinced him to sing in the spring talent show and had built a band around him to provide backup. Then she'd arranged with one of her friends from Boston, where she'd lived until the first of the year, to attend the show. The friend, Alex O'Connor, was a talent scout who trusted Cinnamon's judgment, and with good reason. Over three years, Cinnamon had made him a small fortune.

When the show ended, Tyrone was offered a contract to have Alex represent him. In addition, Alex had been so impressed by LaMarcus on bass that he'd offered to pair LaMarcus with Tyrone, as Cinnamon had expected. LaMarcus, however, wanted to wait to see if his NBA career materialized. Alex had given Tyrone what LaMarcus had called a "signing bonus" that the Hayes family had used to pay off several troublesome bills. Mister Hayes had insisted that part of the money go into savings for Tyrone, except for enough of it to buy him a new bicycle. It was one of the few things Tyrone had that wasn't second- or third-hand merchandise.

They banked left into Cinnamon's driveway and parked their bikes in the rack across from the northern side door. Tyrone followed her into the house and up the short flight of stairs to the main level.

"Rosita!" she called. "We have company."

"Kitchen," echoed down the hall as Cinnamon's white greyhound raced down the hall, stopped, and sat in front of her. He licked her face as she hugged him. She turned to Tyrone and giggled. "You look like you've seen a ghost, but that's okay. You have. Tyrone Hayes, singer extraordinaire, this is Colonel John Singleton Mosby, ex-racing greyhound not-so-extraordinaire. But now that he's retired his name is Ghost, after his namesake's nickname, 'The Gray Ghost.'"

"He don't bite?"

"Doesn't," she corrected. "Are you kidding? If you broke in to steal the silver, he'd probably show you where it's located. I know he would if you brought him something to eat. Let him sniff your hand, and then you can pet him."

Tyrone did. "What it is, Ghostman?" He rubbed Ghost's head and scratched behind his gray ears, which, along with the small blotch on his chest that resembled the Ghostbusters' logo's ghost, was the only non-white hair on the animal. Ghost's tail became a blur on the carpet. "Well, all right, G!"

Cinnamon's eyes narrowed as her wide grin pushed up her round cheeks. "Rosita is waiting for us. You may escort me."

Tyrone bowed stiffly from the waist and extended his elbow. Cinnamon hooked her hand in the crook and allowed him to lead her down the hallway as music by Tangerine Dream, one of Wynter and Jimmy's favorite groups, played from the ceiling speakers. Ghost tagged along beside her. "Sure is quiet in here," he said.

"Nice, isn't it?" she agreed.

Tyrone was referring to previous visits. Cinnamon's alcoholic birth mother, who she called either the bitch or Millie, after the bitch's own alcoholic mother, had always screamed and shouted and made a total ass of herself because Cinnamon had brought "one of THEM!" into her house. At her urging, Tyrone had gone into his act and had almost brought the bitch to apoplexy every time.

Unfortunately, that desired result hadn't happened. Because of the terms of a prenuptial agreement, Cinnamon had been forced to frame the worthless waste of oxygen with a prescription drug abuse charge to get her out of the house and out of their lives before her father, who she dearly loved more than life itself, had a mental breakdown from the stress. Millie was now in a rehabilitation program back in Massachusetts and had filed for divorce. Under the terms of the pre-nup, Millie thus forfeited all claims on Cinnamon, but not her financial obligations. That suited both Cinnamon and her father just fine.

"Yes," Tyrone said, stopping before the doors into the kitchen and turning to face her. "And I don't mean for my benefit. You been a right-on friend, Little Momma, and you and your poppa didn't deserve the way you was treated."

Cinnamon nodded, partly in agreement with what Tyrone had said, partly because deep inside he was the kind of person she'd thought he was instead of the shithead image he'd projected. "You can never have too many friends," she said before glancing around him to the bathroom door. She shrugged out of her backpack and handed it to him. "You go on in and say hello to Rosita. I need to go drain the swamp, and then I'll join you."

~ ~ ~

Rosita Vasquez was pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven when she heard the doors swing open. The range was in the kitchen end of a long central island that looked as if it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be an "L" or an "I", so it had the short end halfway between, like a broken "J." Mrs. Brees had always insisted on being served breakfast in the dining room. Cinnamon and Mitch had used the short end as a breakfast bar, as much to piss off that hateful woman as because they found the breakfast nook more cozy and inviting.

She straightened, then jumped when she saw Tyrone and Ghost coming toward her.

"Tyrone! What a wonderful surprise. I thought she'd brought Huntly, as usual. I'd put out a Coke for him. I'll get you..."

"That's all right, Mrs. V," he said. "I'll start with it." He took her offered hand and shook it with a firm grip.

She put the hot cookie tray on the range top and then hugged him ferociously. "It's been forever," she said. "Joo haveen't been heere seense the baad old dayz, I theenk," she said in her atrocious phony Spanish accent. "Joo eeven meesed the housewarming party they had wheen Senora Brees queekly left town." Rosita turned the last word into three syllables. She was third generation American and spoke very little Spanish, but she had faked the accent because it served as a thorn to remind the former "Lady" of the house that her maid was "foreigner riff-raff."

She'd done so as punishment for her employer, payback for the way the woman had treated her own husband and daughter, not for the way she'd treated Rosita. She was among the first in a town full of people who couldn't understand how the evil woman could be so filled with hatred for a bright, charming, talented, beautiful daughter that anybody in the community would adopt in an instant. She'd immediately fallen in love with Cinnamon.

Falling in love with Mitch had taken a little longer, and that was still a secret from everybody except Mitch and herself.

Tyrone slouched, seeming to double the number of joints in his body, and flailed his arms to direct his pointing fingers in emphasis as he spouted a stream of jive that Rosita couldn't begin to follow beyond the, "What it is, Big Momma?"

She laughed as he finished and then reformed his body into a normal stance in one fluid, graceful move. "I'm certainly glad we don't have to resort to that any more."

Tyrone nodded. "Word!" he said. Then his grin faded. "I haven't seen you since you lost your father-in-law," he said. "I'm real sorry."

"Thanks," she replied, noticing a slight catch in her voice. "When Pete died, I was afraid that would be the end of the family relationship, but instead I went from being Papa Antonio's daughter-in-law to being another one of his daughters. I miss him, but it was for the best. Now I'm worried about Mama Rosa. She's already lost without him. She'll be gone by the end of the year."

Tyrone took her shoulders in his hands and squeezed gently. "They had something very special. I hope some day I can find me a woman as good as her and we can have us what they had."

Rosita nodded. "I think Pete and I had something like that going for us. It's one of the reasons I never remarried. I was afraid I'd not be able to recapture it."

A corner of Tyrone's mouth twitched upward. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. V. I can give you Tyrone's four-one-one on that. You will. And you can chill with that."

"Hold it, buster!" said a sharp voice from the kitchen doors. Cinnamon stood with her feet apart, her fists on her hips, and a ferocious scowl on her face. "I leave you alone for two minutes and you start hitting on the maid? That's my adopted mother, you know."

"Well, make up yo' mind, Little Momma. Is she yo' maid or yo' momma? Oh, wait, I f'got. You white folks thinks yo' mommas IS yo' maids."

"Uh huh," she said with a deliberate nod. She pointed to the kitchen phone. "And if I call Mrs. Hayes, will she tell me you treat her like a mother or a maid?"

Rosita chuckled at the way Tyrone deflated before he said, "Say, Little Momma, these cookies is getting cold. And while Mrs. Vasquez's cookies are delicious when they's cold, they are heavenly when they's warm." He turned to Rosita and gave her a charming, ingratiating smile.

Rosita smiled back. "You two have a seat and I'll serve the cookies," she said. "Then you can get to work studying for the English final."

Tyrone twitched in surprise that she knew what they would study. He looked back and forth between the two before settling on Cinnamon. The decision to study together had been made as they were leaving school, and Cinnamon hadn't phoned anyone. "Is that some of what you and Wynter call 'non-verbal communication'?"

Cinnamon paused beside her chair and shook her head. "No. It definitely WASN'T NON-verbal."

~ ~ ~

"So tell me," Tyrone said as they stepped off the stairs and onto the gallery overlooking the family room and foyer, "when do they plan to get married?"

Cinnamon glanced down into the family room. The partition doors that separated it from the breakfast area were open, but she couldn't see Rosita. "No idea," she said as she followed Ghost left toward her room. She sighed. "I don't even know when they plan to tell me they're already engaged."

~ ~ ~

Wynter's narrow hand rubbed her slender stomach, and her blue-green eyes sparkled with mischief as she grinned at her father. "You know what a good cook Mrs. McCauley is. That was as far above road kill as road kill is above hospital food. Right, Jimmy?"

"Right, Future Doctor McCauley. Even compared to diesel-flavored chipmunk."

Wynter wasn't the only one gaping at Jimmy. His parents and Daddy also stared bug-eyed at him. Jimmy was the only one who was oblivious to the fact that he'd not only used her future professional designation but also her future last name, too.

Jimmy looked at all the faces gawking at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Wynter said before anyone else could speak. She turned back to Daddy. "So how's hospital life?"

His smile, partially a result of his narcotic injections but mostly pleasure at having Wynter in the room with him, widened, though he still spoke in a slur and without moving his jaw. "Jimmy?" he said instead of answering her question. "Son, need you observe somet'in' very important an' 'preciate it."

Jimmy's posture straightened and he gave her father his undivided attention. "Yes, sir?"

Daddy lifted his right hand and pointed the index finger at Wynter. "I wan' you see real doct'r at work, even if she isn' designate' yet. Real doc is one who put aside person'l feelings and does wha's best for patient, not best for self. Real doc sometimes does thing agains' her nature 'cause tha's what thick-head patient need so he'll pay 'tention to lesson and learn from mistake. Real doc sometime endure person'l emotion'l pain to keep her patien's from endurin' further phys'cal pain. Real doctor has heart bigger'n anything else about her."

Jimmy's finger wiped away a tear that trickled down her cheek before he said, "Yes, sir, I know that. And I do appreciate it. I've always known she was special. It wasn't until she told me her plan that I realized how special she was. The way you now do, too."

Daddy nodded. "So, I've jus' one quest'n, Future Doct'r McCauley."

Wynter heard Jimmy gasp at the name. She made a mental note to be amused later.

"Am I forgiv'n, now I've learn lesson?"

"Uh huh," she said. "And you'd better have learned it. I don't want to go through this with you again."

She didn't explain which "this" she meant. Daddy knew which meaning she'd intended: both of them. Both the accident and the subsequent lesson.

"Uh, we, uh..." Mrs. McCauley stammered. "We'll just wait out..."

"No," Jimmy said. "How much time may we have with your patient, Future Doctor King?"

Wynter didn't take her eyes off her father's. She didn't want to miss an instant of the love and appreciation of her that she saw deep within them. "Five minutes."

~ ~ ~

When the door closed, Richard shifted his eyes from his departing visitors to Wynter. The iron determination of the morning's Future MD had been replaced by the sweet vulnerability of his daughter.

She squeezed his hand in hers and gave him a sad look. "I'm glad I don't have to be mean any more," she said. "I didn't like myself very much."

"Unh uh," he grunted, waggling an index finger because he couldn't shake his head and survive. "Don' say that. Wasn' mean. Was good doct'r. I was ser'ous. You made point. You'll be good doc an' good parent."

He waited for her to think about that one.

She shrugged one shoulder. "I guess that's a good point. Did you feel like this whenever I was naughty and you had to punish me?"

"Ever' time."

She smiled and gave him the gentle nose-and-lips kiss that had been something special between them for most of her life. "I wish I could give you a lover's kiss, too," she said.

"Uh huh." He wondered if feeling her sweet tongue in his mouth would be worth the explosion in his skull. As he decided it would, she said, "but we'll have to wait. You're going to miss your Friday night, too."

"Huh?" One of the arrangements that Angie had established for their continued sexual relationship was that Wynter would have Richard on Friday nights and Angie had him the rest of the week.

"Daddy, it's that bad. Next Friday you'll be okay, but not this Friday. Mother has to do without, too, this week. See? When you do something like that, you affect not just yourself but everyone around you."

He sighed. "You be better parent'n I was."

Her ponytail lashed as she shook her head. "Maybe I'll have more sense," she said, sounding uncomfortably like Angie, "but I can only hope to be as good."

"Love you."

"I love you, too. I brought you a special gift."

He hadn't seen her bring anything into the room. "Wha?"

She looked over her shoulder at the door, moved a few inches to the side, and raised the hem of her blouse. "What every tit man wants to see."

Richard sighed happily as he gazed at the small, soft mounds capped by pink cones. "Secon' best presn't you brought," he mumbled.

"What was the best?"

"Ev'rthin' else. You giv'n Jim same presn't t'night?"

"Uh huh. He's staying at our house to protect me."

Richard smiled and reached up to cup one of his favorite toys in his hand. He had better sense than to ask who was going to protect Jimmy.

Three

Wynter wasn't surprised to find Dragon sitting in the front yard, waiting for her return. It was where she'd expected him to be. She hugged him and told him how much she'd missed him, too. Jimmy pulled a large dog biscuit out of a cargo pocket in his shorts and paid his toll to pass the coal-black, eighty-pound 'Labrador Roadblock,' as Grandpa Wolfe called him.

Wynter closed and locked the door while Jimmy shrugged out of his pack. She scratched Dragon's ears with one hand while the other led her arm around Jimmy's neck to pull his lips toward hers. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened in breathless anticipation...

...and the phone rang.

"DRAT!"

"Maybe it's your mother," Jimmy said.

Wynter didn't think so, but maybe it was. She chastised herself for being disappointed without even checking first to see if it was someone whom she loved with all her heart.

She glanced at the Caller ID as she reached for the kitchen phone hanging over the breakfast nook. "Huntly," she said before lifting the receiver. She heard Jimmy groan disdainfully as she identified herself.

"Hey, Doctor Cutie! Glad you're home. Jimbo's mom said you two were there and were planning to spend the night together. Cinnamon and I will be there shortly. Tell you what: because you're my special friends, we'll stay over and chaperone you tonight. Damn, you're lucky to know us."

"You'll stay over and chaperone?" She heard Jimmy groan again. "Why are you coming here in the first place? You want some place where you can make out with Sis uninterrupted?"

"You have such a low opinion of such a wonderful person as me? I should be insulted, but for you I'll make an exception. It's about Kenny and Suzie."

"Oh." She looked over her shoulder at Jimmy, who had squeezed up behind her and was encircling her waist with his arms. "Okay. How soon can you get here?"

"We're waiting to cross Cheyenne Road. Oops. There's the light. See you shortly." He hung up.

"What?" Jimmy asked in a cross tone as she hung up the phone. Before she could speak he said, "They're coming here?"

She turned in his arms. "Uh huh." She pulled his head toward hers again. "It's about the Hargus Other Two."

He still looked disappointed, but he said, "Oh. Well, that's important. And Cinnamon said that this was what we'd have to look forward to when you start Medical School."

"At the rate we're going, it will be routine for us by then." She didn't let him respond because she'd waited long enough. She crushed her mouth to his and slipped away to paradise.

When she returned to Earth she realized Jimmy's hand had crawled up under her top, and he was looking at her in his version of what she called Dragon's "curious pose."

"What?" she asked.

"You were wearing a bra when we went to the hospital."

OH NO! She'd forgotten to put it back on! She tried to sound natural as she said, "Well, I didn't need it. You've said so yourself several times. And I've told you how they sometimes get uncomfortable. It's that bulge in my pocket."

Jimmy gave her his grin-and-nod. "Yeah, you've told me. You've saved me the work of taking it off, but you've also saved me the fun of taking it off."

She rubbed her nose against his. "I could put it back on."

"That's okay. I'll just have extra fun taking off your top."

Dragon jumped up from the floor at her feet and bolted to the front door. Wynter knew from the particular way he looked at the door that Cinnamon had arrived. Just how long had she and Jimmy been lost in their kiss this time?

~ ~ ~

Cinnamon sipped her apple juice and nodded to Huntly. "You first, shithead."

"Bitch," he said with that world-weary tone that made people who didn't know them think he was seriously tired of her. He smiled at Wynter and Jimmy. "First of all, I'd like to express my appreciation to the hostess..."

"Get on with it!" Jimmy barked. Cinnamon thought he looked cute when he was flustered, and Huntly was the only person she knew who could fluster Jimmy as well as she and Kenny could. And then there was Cousin Hailey who, after she arrived on Sunday, would no doubt would fluster him more than Huntly and she combined could do.

"Try to show some civilized manners around Kenny's clone and look what happens." Huntly shook his head at the futility. "Okay, here's what happened. Suzie took her swimming medals to show Kenny and to tell him that she'd won them just for him. She caught him in a threesome with Tiffany Jones and Judy Chase."

When he looked at Cinnamon, she said, "Josh Carter has been one of Suzie's secret admirers all year. They studied together this afternoon. Looks like he's aware that she's available and making his move. She seems to be receptive to the advance." She reached for her juice glass.

When neither one said more, Wynter and Jimmy and looked at each other and then at her.

"And?" her adopted sister and Future Brother-in-Law asked in unison.

Cinnamon shrugged. "And that's it."

Huntly nodded.

"You could have told us that over the phone," Jimmy said. Cinnamon grinned to herself and wondered if he was aware of the suspicion in his voice.

Huntly nodded again. "True. But I can't get my knee massaged over the phone."

"Knee massage," Jimmy said. "I suppose you want to loosen it up in the hot tub first."

Huntly shrugged one shoulder. "Well, thanks, Jimbo, if you insist. Though I expect Doctor Cutie will insist anyway because that makes it easier for her."

Wynter shook her head. "You just want to see me naked again."

Huntly assumed his most pompous look. "That, Your Doctorness, is an outrageous lie! I want to get my knee massaged because it's been nagging me for a couple of days."

Wynter looked apologetic. "Oh," she said, not realizing, as Cinnamon did, what was coming next.

"Getting to see you naked again is just a bonus."

Cinnamon joined her adopted sister in a head shake and added, "You shithead."

"Bitch. Don't worry, Jimbo, you get a treat, too. You get to see Cinnamon naked."

Jimmy shrugged. "I already know what she looks like. Remember?"

Cinnamon was impressed with the way Jimmy said that. Even though he understood the Kings' concept of a European sauna atmosphere, he still had some lingering apprehension about seeing her nude and even more about being nude in her presence. It wasn't as bad as it had been, though. The prudectomy she and Sis had been performing was paying off. He was almost completely relaxed being nude in Mrs. King's presence, though perhaps that was because her adopted Mom didn't tease Jimmy the way she did. She, of course, only did so as part of the prudectomy.

Sure. That was her only reason.

"What are you snickering at, bitch?"

She refocused and looked at the brown eyes below the puckered brow of his frown. "I was thinking, shithead. Someday the rest of us will explain to you how that's done."

"You know," Jimmy said, scratching his temple with one fingernail, "if I didn't know better, I'd think you two hated each other."

"That's a very good point," Huntly said as he snaked an arm around Cinnamon's shoulders and squeezed. "How come you two don't have any pet names for each other?"

Jimmy's eyes shifted to Wynter, and his face dissolved into that dreamy look. A thousand boys had looked at Cinnamon a thousand different ways, and not one had given her that fantastically wonderful look that made her wet every time she saw it directed at Sis. "Because I can't imagine a prettier name than 'Wynter.' Any other name for her would be an insult."

Wynter gave Jimmy the look that said nobody else could come between the two of them and mumbled something before the two lost themselves in another kiss.

Cinnamon wouldn't dare try to take Jimmy out of respect for Sis, but she knew that she'd have no chance of stealing him, even if she were of a different temperament. On Sunday, Cousin Hailey was due to arrive from Hawaii to spend the summer with her. She wondered how long it would take for Hailey to realize that she couldn't have Jimmy, either. No doubt Hailey would still be trying when she boarded the plane in late August, unwilling to admit that someone actually could resist her advances.

She guessed that Huntly would let her finish the introductions before he started humping Hailey. Unlike Kenny, who would "bang first and ask names later," as Megan McNeal had once said of him. Megan was one of those who would know from first hand experience.

Not that Cinnamon minded if Hailey did Huntly. They weren't formally "an item." They did a lot of things together, including each other, but each had other partners available, though Huntly had only a couple and she could have almost anyone she wanted. And Cinnamon didn't mind sharing. After all, she always shared her father with Hailey.

After watching the other couple for a good half-minute, Huntly said, "Bitch and I will go ahead and get in the hot tub. You two can join us when you come up for air. Get it? Hot tub, come up for air?"

Cinnamon groaned, a low, guttural sound that turned into a growl. "Shithead." She fluttered her hands in a shooing motion to urge him toward the basement stairs.

~ ~ ~

"Put your knee next to that jet," Wynter said in her best professional voice, "and let it warm up for ten minutes."

Huntly moaned in satisfaction. "Just the jet makes it feel better. I can't wait for you to start massaging it again, though."

"Well," Sis said slowly, as if thinking up the words as she said them, "if you hadn't stupidly gone out of your way to fuck it up again, you could have had it massaged a lot more often instead of having to wait for it to heal first. Again."

"Yeah," he said ruefully. "And I also missed out on all those opportunities to be in the tub with two hot, steaming, naked babes."

Wynter, sitting across from Huntly, leaned back in her seat and relaxed. For all Huntly's words about naked girls, he mostly glanced to see if there were any major changes since his last time in the tub, such as Wynter's having grown an extra butt, and then he acted as if they were all fully clothed. He sure wasn't like Kenny, who would duck his head underwater if he thought he could see through the bubbles from the jets.

Cinnamon, sitting to Huntly's right and across from Jimmy, rolled her head on the built-in pillow so that she could focus on Wynter. "Speaking of males and their ability to injure themselves while acting totally stupid, Daddy said your father was coming home either Friday or Saturday. Will Mom be here to take care of him Sunday?"

Because Cinnamon hadn't experienced the joys of having a mother who loved her, Angie King had voluntarily become Cinnamon's surrogate mother and was 'Mom' as far as both parties were concerned. As far as all four were concerned if you counted Wynter and Daddy. Okay, all five. Wynter didn't want to unfairly discriminate against Canine-Americans by ignoring Dragon's opinion.

"Unless something changes," Wynter said as she flipped her ponytail over the edge of the tub and eased her head onto her pillow. Unlike Cinnamon, who pinned her thigh-length hair on top of her head for the tub, Wynter left her hair, which reached to the bottom of her shoulders, either in its normal ponytail or hanging loose without the scrunchie, which meant it usually got wet in the tub. She didn't mind, though, because she'd then wash her hair in the shower when they finished, and Jimmy would comb and blow dry it for her.

"Good! How'd you like to go with me to DIA when we pick up Hailey?"

"You want ME to go with the three of you?" Wynter had been expecting Cinnamon to ask if she'd watch Ghost while Cinnamon was away. The greyhound was relatively new and hadn't been left alone before. Whenever Cinnamon spent the night with Wynter while her father was on duty, Sis had either brought Ghost with her or had Mrs. Vasquez spend the night in the Brees's house. Sis had mentioned a few days earlier that Mrs. Vasquez was planning to make the trip, too.

"Sure. Hailey's your cousin, too. But it will probably be just Daddy and me. I think Rosita's going to be with her mother-in-law."

Something about the sound of her voice set off the Code Blue signal in Wynter's head. "You mean Mrs. Vasquez Senior isn't well?"

"Yes." Cinnamon gently shook her head, her face withdrawing into sadness. "Rosita got the call right after Tyrone left. She doesn't want to go on without her husband, just as everyone suspected. Doctor Vasquez found her unconscious on the living room couch. He's staying with her until about nine, and then Rosita will take over for the night. Fortunately, the nursing home can admit her Sunday afternoon, unless a bed unexpectedly comes free before then."

Wynter saw Huntly's shoulder move and knew he was reaching for Cinnamon's hand. She felt Jimmy's touch her wrist, then slide down to grip her own.

Jimmy and Huntly spent several minutes telling personal stories about Mrs. Vasquez Senior and her late husband. Wynter had met them only once and that was very briefly. Cinnamon had never met either. The stories ended when Wynter looked at the clock, sat up, and moved Huntly's leg into position. He moaned in relief as her thumbs began working on his stiff knee.

Wynter spoke without looking up. "I guess that after Mrs. Vasquez Senior is gone--to the nursing home, I mean--then there will be nothing stopping Mrs. Vasquez from moving in with you."

"Yeah," said Huntly in a tone that sounded to Wynter almost as if it were post-orgasmic. "She can move into the room the Doc was using while Cinnamon's mother..."

"SHE WAS NOT MY MOTHER!" the little redhead screamed in a voice so vicious that it caused everyone else to jump

He'd known he'd made a mistake as the words left his mouth. Wynter had seen that on his face. "Sorry," he said. His tone said he really and truly meant it. "I meant to say while the Doc's almost-ex was using the master suite. It would be convenient since both bedrooms are at the same end of the house and the doors sorta face each other."

Wynter tried to stay natural. Huntly didn't know that Doctor Brees had frequently slipped down the hall at night to one bedroom at the far end of the house whenever loud snoring indicated that Mrs. Brees was passed out drunk for the night. Wynter was the only one besides her father and Cinnamon who knew that. The only one except Hailey, that is. Cinnamon didn't hold too many secrets from her cousin.

"It would be more convenient if they'd just tell everyone they're engaged," Jimmy noted. Wynter nodded at him over her shoulder. She liked Jimmy's practical approach to problems, unlike Cinnamon's answers. Sis seemed to enjoy making very complicated solutions and then seeing them work as planned.

"I think they're trying to protect me," Cinnamon said as she straightened. "Jimmy, you want me to give you another foot massage?"

To Wynter's pleased surprise, Jimmy replied, "I have a better idea. Let's move to the lounge seat and I'll massage your shoulders."

Wynter thought Sis's smile was going to push her round cheeks right off her face. "Sure!" She stood and grabbed Jimmy's face in her hands. Before he could react she gave him a quick kiss, a Future-Sister-in-Law one without tongues. She said, "Thanks," and sat on the end of the lounge seat. Jimmy moved to the middle of the seat and then pulled one leg across it so that he could turn to face her.

"Better watch out, Doc," Huntly said with a smirk. "I think he's looking for an opportunity to play with the best looking tits in school."

Wynter pursed her lips and pushed them to one side in thought. "So, you're saying I should stop massaging your knee and go supervise them?"

"No!" He raised one hand out of the water and gave a flip of dismissal. "Look, they'll be okay. I trust Jimbo."

"Cinnamon's right," Jimmy said as his fingers began kneading her neck. "You are a shithead."

"For trusting you?" Huntly sounded genuinely surprised.

"For telling your doctor who is giving your knee a massage out of the goodness of her heart that her breasts don't look as good as her sister's."

"Oh. Yeah. Um..." Huntly frowned for a moment and then brightened. "Well, Cinnamon's are the best for me. Naturally, Doctor Cutie's are the best for you. That way we don't have to fight each other over them. Maybe I should have said the biggest instead of the best looking."

Wynter moved his leg to extend it more as she said, "Mrs. Beuller has the biggest tits in school."

"Student tits."

"Amy Chisolm's are the biggest." Almost everything about Amy was the biggest in Griffin Middle School, and she was only a sixth-grader.

Huntly tried again. "The biggest student tits that don't need a bra."

Wynter paused, then slowly, deliberately, turned to stare at Cinnamon's chest. Cinnamon straightened and thrust them forward.

"Yeah," Wynter said in a slow drawl, "I guess you're right."

Cinnamon giggled and relaxed, then moaned softly as Jimmy began work on her trapezius muscles. Jimmy, Wynter noticed with pleasure, hadn't become embarrassed.

Huntly also moaned, but not in the same way, causing Cinnamon to remark, "You gave him a boner, Sis."

Huntly snorted. "Who says so?

"Are you saying you weren't picturing us in a threesome just then, with Wynter and me going after each other and you helping yourself to whatever wasn't in use?"

Sis was working on Jimmy's prudectomy. Out of the corner of her eye Wynter saw Jimmy flush scarlet. Sis had finally gotten to him. Sure, she'd like to be alone with Jimmy right now. But Sis had realized that and was trying to pay back Wynter for the deprivation by helping her with her Jimmy Problem.

Huntly's head bobbed to one side and he shrugged. "Well, if you put it that way..."

~ ~ ~

Wynter heard the faint sound of Cinnamon having another orgasm in the guest bedroom. "If they hadn't showed up, you could be doing that to me right now," she said from the seat in front of her dresser mirror.

Jimmy stopped drawing the brush through her hair. He had used the blow dryer and comb and was now brushing out the remaining tangles. He smiled at her reflection in the mirror. "Huntly's here with Cinnamon for sex. I'm here because I love you. Brushing your hair may not be as intense as making love with you, but when both are over the satisfaction is just as great."

Wynter looked down between her small, firm breasts. Her heart suddenly felt too big for her chest, and she was checking to see if it would explode out of her body like that yucky creature in 'Alien.' When he announced a minute later that he was finished, she turned and sucked him to an erection and then deep throated him until he came less than a minute later.

"Wow!" he said when he could speak again. "You never did that before!"

_Well, no_, she thought, _not with Jimmy_. She smiled up at him and said, "Sis explained how to do it right without choking. You owe her one. So," she flapped him up-and-down with her fingers, "do you think you can get this up again right away for me, or do you just want to eat my pussy for a while?"

Jimmy sighed in a faraway, dreamy voice. "Yes."

She smiled and rose, running her hands down his chest, across his stomach, and cupping them around everything. "I'm glad we got that answered before we climbed into bed."

~ ~ ~

Marti McCauley's breath exploded in a rush over Keith's ear. Some distant rational part of her said it was a good thing she wasn't a screamer when she came or she might have shattered his eardrum. She enjoyed the feeling of him slamming into her while she was throbbing with her release. Moments later he was short stroking. His panting ceased and a strangled moan tried to force its way out of his throat as he slammed ever faster into her body. She and Keith were perfectly designed for fucking missionary style at the angle most comfortable for both. Friction as he withdrew caused her inner labia to pull on her clit just right, and the impact of his body against her cunt was like a jolt from a vibrator directly on her clit.

She felt a thrill as he slammed into her one last time and then went as rigid as a statue until he started spewing. When she felt his liquid heat inside her tunnel, she simultaneously felt his hips unlock. He began slamming against her clit again.

Marti had no interest at all in rough sex per se, but she did thoroughly enjoy this part of passionate sex with Keith. He managed to push her over the edge a second time before his muscles went from solid iron to overcooked pasta and he collapsed atop her. As usual, her mind took off on a wild flight of fancy, unrestrained by her normal inhibition's control. For a moment she found herself wondering if Jimmy fucked the way his father did, and, if so, whether Wynter enjoyed that method as much as she did.

She hoped so.

~ ~ ~

Mitchell Brees gasped for air. It had been more like work than sex, mainly because he wasn't able to throw himself so fully into the act with Cinnamon. He'd always had to hold back with her because she was small for her age, and her vaginal canal wasn't quite deep enough for all of him yet. His green eyes slowly focused on the dreamy brown ones smiling back at him. "Was it... good for... you, too?" he puffed.

"Caramba! Eet was soooooooo magneefico!" She frowned and then pulled something from her mouth. Something short, red, and curly. "Looook! Eet ees organic deental floss, I theenk!"

Mitch tried to shake his head, succeeding in moving it maybe a half-inch in each direction. "And Huntly calls Cinnamon a bitch."

"We all are," Rosita said. "Some just have more luck hiding it than others." Whatever else she was about to say was cut off in a shriek as Mitch twisted a nipple between two knuckles.

Mitch stroked a hand down her side and her flank. She no longer had Cinnamon's youthful skin, but she still felt young for her age, which was two years younger than his. She felt, and looked, more like six to ten years younger, in his professional medical opinion. All except for one part of her which was almost as tight and youthful as his daughter's. Rosita's had never been stretched by childbirth, though he'd had patients who had delivered two or even three kids, but who were tight enough to dislocate your finger with one muscle contraction if they'd been of a mind to do so.

They shared a kiss that took most of his energy reserve. He collapsed onto the pillow again and resumed his delightfully interrupted argument. "Look, once you and Mike and the others have Rosa in the nursing home, there's no reason for you to keep that house next door to her empty one."

Her eyes sparkled, but he wasn't sure whether it was mischief or fresh-fucked afterglow. "That southeast corner of the basement, under the kitchen, was designed to double as a maid's bedroom," she agreed, giving him his answer.

"You need to see a doctor about having your bitch gland toned down," he advised. "You could move in across the hall for appearance's sake until we're married. It's large enough for you to be comfortable in."

"Mitch, I'd be comfortable in the other spare bedroom, or even that basement room."

"No way Cinnamon would let you have that spare bedroom. It shares a bath with her bedroom, so it's going to be Hailey's room for the summer."

"Is that why she won't move into your old room?"

"No. She wants to stay where she is. She says it took her too long to "train" the room, plus she likes having windows that overlook three sides of the house. And having you in the big room would make it easier for us to sneak across the hall for more of this at night."

Her face turned unreadable. "Mitch," she began, but her throat seemed to stick when she tried to say what was on her mind. She pulled him to her and kissed him hard and deep, with an intense passion that he'd rarely seen in the woman in the few weeks since they'd first sampled each other.

"Mitch," she said again when she backed away. "I think there's been enough sneaking down the hall at night for sex in this house."

An icy fist slammed Mitch in the gut, freezing him. He could think of only one interpretation for that sentence.

"Yes," she said with a nod. "I know about you and Cinnamon."

Four

Miguel Vasquez, MD, known as Mike to his friends, closed the conference room door and nodded an apology. "Sorry I'm late," he said.

Kevin Taylor, MD, shrugged. "Mike, if anyone understands the term, 'Medical Emergency,' it's those of us in this room. How is she?"

Mike collapsed into his chair and looked at the sympathetic faces of the rest of the staff meeting's members. "Not good," he said. "Rosita called a little after six this morning. The ambulance crew was there when I arrived. Myocardial infarction, though she has no history of heart disease. I think she willed herself to have one. She's in the ICU now and stable. If she remains stable, I'll transfer her out in twenty-four hours. You all know that since my Dad died she's lost interest in living. If she remains stable," he lifted a hand and let it thump down on the polished cherry table, "I think we'll have witnessed a miracle."

A general murmur arose as each staff principal voiced his or her version of comforting words. When they quieted, Hal Miller, MD, said, "Mike, do you think it would help if I did a consultation?"

Mike shook his head. "No." He sighed heavily. "It's not anything you can fix. She wants to go. She's always said it's what she wanted if he went first."

"I didn't mean for her, Mike. I meant for you."

Tact wasn't Hal's strong suit when it came to other doctors. Any other psychiatrist would have made the offer in private, no matter the status of the offeree. But Mike understood that Hal's heart was in the right place and that he was trying to help. Mike knew better to take offense at Hal's perpetual social blundering. "Thanks, Hal, but I've had years to prepare for this. We all have. Kevin, where are we?"

Kevin knew as well as he did that Hal would pursue the matter further if someone didn't change the subject and that he was looking for an excuse to change the subject. Kevin nodded slightly. "You didn't miss anything major. We were in the current budget status. Danny, anything else from Internal?" When Danny Young, MD, shook his head, Kevin said, "Okay, next. Mike, what's the word from Cardiology?"

Kevin ran a tight ship. Staff meetings usually lasted precisely thirty minutes, and Mike had missed the first half. As a result, the remainder of the meeting felt like it lasted only an hour. While Steven Edwards, OD, presented the Family Medicine status, Mike noticed that Mitch Brees seemed adrift. He used his own eyes to catch Kevin's attention and then flicked them at Mitch.

Kevin looked at Mitch and then back at Mike. His right index finger flicked downward almost imperceptibly. 'Stay after the meeting' was the meaning.

After a small eternity the administrative bullshit was finally over. Mike became a cardiologist to practice medicine, not to sit on his butt in non-medical meetings. Each staff member gave him a handshake and brief words of comfort before filing out. Oncologist Denise Holt, MD, threw in a hug that could have had him sleeping on the couch for a week if his wife had seen it.

Mitch pulled himself together during his handshake, and then seemed to drift away again before he released Mike's hand.

Hal waited until last, then tried to make his counselling offer again, but that ended when Candis Taylor pushed him aside. "Come on, Hal. You're holding up the show. Don't you have patients to see?" Without waiting for an answer, she also hugged Mike. Hal was non-plussed, but he didn't leave. She threw an arm around Mike's neck and pulled him into a surprise kiss. Mike had a clear flash of the couch becoming his permanent bed.

Hal went from flustered to flabbergasted and left.

"There," Candis said as she released Mike. "That should keep him away from you."

Kevin cleared his throat. "Excuse me, dear, but don't you think that word of the Managing Director's wife throwing herself at the cardiologist might have a bad impact on morale?"

Candis adjusted her glasses and shook her head. "Not at all," she said, patting Mike's forearm. "Mike's morale has been tremendously improved. Besides, that was the Human Resources Director attempting to keep a valued and irreplaceable surgeon from considering offers to move on to Bigger and Better Hospital, Incorporated."

"I see," Kevin said with a slow nod. "So you were just..."

"...doing my job. Plus I got Hal out of here for you as a bonus. You should give me a raise."

"Get outa here."

Candis grinned at Mike, shrugged, and picked up her notes. "In that case, you don't get a kiss, too." She closed the door on her way out.

Kevin shook his head and indicated that Mike should take a seat. "Sometimes I wonder why I married her."

Mike shrugged. "Most of the staff ask that question the other way around," he said as he slid into a chair.

Kevin probably would have been pissed off if Mike hadn't been telling the truth. He also sat down. "Any idea what's up with Mitch? Before the meeting I found him standing in front of a door, looking like he was trying to remember how to open it."

"Don't know," Mike admitted. "Rosita was acting a little differently last night at Mom's, too. Mitch had obviously... well, 'made her very happy,' but something else was on her mind."

Kevin grunted. "Maybe they were arguing about their future? About her moving in when she doesn't have to help care for your mother?"

Mike shook his head and rolled a hand over. "Don't know that, either. But I think life would be less complicated for them, maybe for all of us, when they finally admit in public that they're engaged."

~ ~ ~

Jimmy felt a wave of pleasure radiate outward from the pressure of a slender hand finding its natural resting place on his lower back. He nodded a farewell to Tiffany Taylor, turned, and asked, "How'd it go?"

Wynter looked positively miserable. "I think I got a B. There goes my four-point for this semester."

Before he could respond, Suzie appeared, her round face radiant with delight. "I just talked to Mister Peters about a couple of the answers. I think maybe I got a B!" She hugged both of them and practically danced out the door.

Jimmy smiled down at Wynter and said, "Isn't perspective a wonderful thing?"

~ ~ ~

"See that?" Cinnamon asked, nodding toward another table. Suzie was in animated conversation with Josh Carter, so excited she could hardly find time to eat. "I haven't seen her that giddy since she took first place in swimming in the state."

"I know," Jimmy said, speaking before Wynter because she had to finish chewing and swallow first. "It will be her first grade higher than a C other than PE. Mister Peters bases most of his semester grade on the final exam. I can't wait to see the final history grades tomorrow so we'll know for sure. Think how she'll be if she ties a certain Future MD."

Wynter wiped her mouth with her napkin and said, "I think that would be great. She needs something else nice to happen to her after what Uncle Bozo Junior did."

'Uncle Bozo' was Wynter's nickname for her mother's brother-in-law. Cinnamon had never met the creep and wanted to keep it that way. Although it was possible that Mom might not object to Cinnamon's plan to feed the creep to the garbage disposal a small bit at a time. Wynter had given Kenny the nickname 'Uncle Bozo Junior' the first time that he and Suzie had split. Cinnamon decided that it was no longer a joke. Kenny had earned the nickname.

Huntly leaned forward for a better look and then straightened. "I guess they really did study yesterday instead of enjoying each other."

"You know, Huntly, you can study and still enjoy being with someone," Jimmy said.

Huntly watched Wynter and Jimmy exchange a look, then turned to Cinnamon as the look dragged on. "Got any insulin? All this syrupy sweetness around here could put us into diabetic shock."

Cinnamon blinked at him and shook the astonished look from her face. "Shithead."

"Bitch."

~ ~ ~

"Of course they won't get mad," Suzie whispered as they made their way the final few feet through the hallway crowd. She put on a bright smile when Jimmy saw them and told Wynter.

"Hi, Suzie. Hi, Josh," Wynter said as she turned around.

Jimmy added his greetings and said, "What's up?"

"Josh and I were wondering if you were planning to study for the science test tomorrow this afternoon," she said. She realized the words didn't come out right or something because she was still so excited about her history test. She shook her head and tried again. "I mean tomorrow's science test this afternoon. Josh thinks you won't need to study."

"I wish!" Jimmy said, grinning at them. "It's mostly botany, and that's one of our weaker areas. We don't know it anywhere near as well as Ron."

Suzie smiled up at Josh, who was about an inch taller than her, and put on her 'I-told-you-so' face. "See?" she said. "I told you so." She just couldn't believe how stupid some people could be. Even Josh.

Well, okay, Josh was a bit of a surprise, but most other people, especially boys, thought Wynter and Jimmy never studied. Well, not schoolwork, anyway. They thought Wynter spent all her study time reading those stupid medical books instead.

Well, okay, maybe they weren't stupid if they helped make doctors smart so they could fix you when you were broken or something. But whenever Suzie tried to tell those stupid people that she'd seen Wynter and Jimmy study hard for classes, the dolts always acted like she was dismental.

"Do you want to study with us?" Wynter asked. "We don't mind."

"Uh huh. Please. Are you going to study at your house?"

"Why?" Jimmy asked, surprising Suzie with his frown and suspicious voice. "You two wanting to use the hot tub, too, since she's home alone?"

"Hot tub?" Josh asked, looking back and forth among the three. "I didn't know she had one."

Suzie felt her face blush when she realized what Jimmy meant. He thought she wanted to get Josh in the tub, naked, and fool around with him like she'd done with that stupid dolt Kenny. "No! I'm sorry. I just thought that maybe you'd be studying there since it's quiet or something. I..."

Wynter did something with her hand on Jimmy's back that made him jump. "Jimmy's sorry," she said, "but he's suspicious because Cinnamon and Huntly invited themselves over to use it last night. Since they were there, we didn't get to study history as much as we'd planned after we came back from seeing Daddy at the hospital. Actually, we were planning to study at Jimmy's this afternoon. There's room for all four of us if Jimmy and his mom don't mind. And if they do, we can study at our house."

Jimmy jumped again. "No! It's okay," he said in a hurry. "Mom won't mind, either. We can use the practice room downstairs. It's quiet."

It sure was quiet. Mister McCauley had sorta soundproofed it or something so that Cinnamon and the rest could hold band practice for the talent show. Suzie had been part of that band. Sorta. She'd been one of the tambourine players and 'crowd motivation technicians,' according to Cinnamon, though Suzie thought she was just cheerleader or something instead of a 'technician.' The other 'technician' had been that stupid dolt Kenny.

Jimmy glanced at Wynter for an instant and then asked, "Do you want to come over now, or do you need to go home first?"

"Now, please, if you don't mind," Josh said, sounding like he was apologizing or something. "Going home first would lose too much study time. We kinda need all we can get."

Suzie and Josh followed Wynter and Jimmy down the crowded hallway. Near the entrance she saw that stupid dolt Kenny looking at her. His sad face said that he wanted his arm to be the one she was holding. Well, it served the stupid dolt right. He could just go let one of his stupid sluts hold his arm. She snuggled closer to Josh's side, causing him to jerk a little bit and move away. She hadn't expected that. Well, she'd train him on how to act later, after school was out for the summer.

They were almost to the bike racks outside when Wynter and Jimmy split apart and fell back beside them. Wynter distracted Josh, and Jimmy whispered, "Suzie, I'm sorry. I thought... you know."

She did, and she understood. "That's okay," she whispered. "I guess I'd have been suspicious, too. But Josh isn't like... HIM. He doesn't even want to look down my blouse at my boobies when he has the chance."

Jimmy gave her the nice smile that he rarely gave to anyone except Wynter. "Suzie, just because he's being a gentleman and doesn't look when he has the chance doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't want to. Trust me on that." He pressed against her as a sort of hug and winked before sliding around behind to Wynter's other side.

Suzie watched Wynter's hand go right to its usual spot while she never took her eyes off of Josh. It was like her hand had been pulled there by magnets or gravity or something.

She sighed, and then she thought about what Jimmy had said.

~ ~ ~

Jimmy flipped the light switch. "Josh, you want to grab the other end of this table? We'll move it right there." He pointed with his head. "Wynter, Suzie, you can pull the chairs over." The long table normally was used for refreshments when the various bands rehearsed, starting with the band that Cinnamon had created for Tyrone's backup during the talent show.

They decided to sit in pairs, facing each other across the table. Before he took his seat, Josh walked around the room. "So this is where it happens, huh?" he said in a quiet, almost reverential voice as his blue-gray eyes took in the Clavinova, Wynter's two synthesizer keyboards, the empty stand for Jimmy's keyboard, the guitar that Jimmy's dad played and the empty stands for Huntly's guitar and LaMarcus's bass next to it, the amplifiers and speakers, and, most impressive of all, Cinnamon's drums that were as elaborate as the school's drum kit that her father had donated.

When Josh looked at all the drums and cymbals and shook his head in wonder, Jimmy put one hand on the other boy's shoulder and said, "That's what she calls a 'practice kit.' Her set at home has four more tom-toms and six more cymbals, a second cowbell, two more gourds, and another five percussion blocks. Unless she's added to it recently."

"How does she keep track of everything?" Josh asked in bewilderment.

"That's nothing, Josh," Suzie said. "Pianos have eighty-eight keys that Wynter and Jimmy have to keep track of."

"Maybe so," Jimmy said, "but I think we have it a lot easier because the keys are in a progressive order."

When Wynter agreed, Josh studied the kit for a few moments and then shook his head. "I'd say she has some kind of order, too." He pointed. "The drums are mostly arranged by size. These here and then those. See? And then these cymbals and those and those."

Jimmy glanced at Wynter. She looked as startled as he felt. Neither had noticed, and neither had asked. He called up an image of Cinnamon while they played 'Let There Be Drums' and realized Josh was right. _Boy, do I feel stupid._ He glanced at Wynter again.

As usual, she knew what he was thinking. "Me, too," she said. "I got distracted by the things that didn't follow the pattern. I guess I'm not going to be a very good doctor if I get distracted that easily."

It wasn't the right time to discuss Wynter's assumed inadequacy issues, so Jimmy let the statement drop and waited for Josh to take his seat next to Suzie.

They began, facing each other across the table. By the time his mother brought the refreshments, Wynter was sitting beside Suzie and he was on Wynter's other side. Suzie and Josh never moved, but when they quit they had progressed through Jimmy sitting next to Suzie and Wynter next to Josh, Jimmy next to Josh and Wynter next to Suzie, and then each pair facing the other across the table again.

Jimmy was impressed. Suzie and Josh had shown indifference to science in the past. Now each was trying hard, trying to understand the concepts and details. _Trying to impress the other_, he realized. But Suzie seemed to be doing better overall now that she knew about her dyslexia and was conquering it. _Maybe that means I was wrong about her trying to impress Josh. Maybe she's just trying harder now that she knows she can make higher grades than C's_.

As they were leaving, Suzie gave Wynter a sisterly kiss and then surprised Jimmy by giving him one as well. "Thanks ever so much!" she gushed. "I think I really understand it now!"

Jimmy wasn't surprised when Wynter gave Josh a sisterly kiss, even though Josh almost melted through the floor and back into the basement in embarrassment. One thing Wynter deeply believed in was fair and equal treatment for everybody.

Josh gave Jimmy an embarrassed, apologetic look. Clearly he wanted to say something but wasn't sure of what to say that wouldn't get him in trouble.

Jimmy held out his hand. "Huntly and I just shake hands at times like these," he said. "So I hope you aren't expecting a kiss."

The tension broken, Josh laughed and shook hands as Jimmy's parents appeared, said his thanks, and said farewell to everyone.

Jimmy closed the door. His mother announced that dinner would be in ten minutes and retreated back into the kitchen.

Wynter hooked her free arm around his father's while the fingertips of her other hand rubbed a circle on his back. "So," she said in a tone that Jimmy knew all too well.

He braced himself, but her comment unexpectedly had nothing to do with him. "I hear that Junior and the Twins are going to perform at Huntly's birthday party." Unfortunately, that statement didn't allow him to relax.

When his dad looked at him, Jimmy made the same expression and shrug that his father used for "I tried to keep it a secret from your mother, but she got it out of me anyway." He finally relaxed when his father gave him a nod of understanding. The thought occurred to him that he'd probably be making that signal to his dad a lot in the future.

"Yes, ma'am," his father said as he escorted her to the family room. "It's our drummer's 'suggestion,' which means we all volunteered to play if we know what's good for us."

Wynter's timing was perfect. They were at the corner of the kitchen, about to turn into the family room, when she said, "You'll do anything to take part in the kissing contest, won't you?"

Jimmy wanted to sink through the floor and on past the basement. His mother exploded with laughter. His dad froze and blinked at Wynter, giving his mother time to control herself and say, "Wait a minute. I thought your kissing contests were just for the birthday celebrant, who in this case is Huntly."

"Uh huh," Wynter said with a nod, her eyes never leaving his father's. "They are. For a musician, he's sure got a poor sense of timing. You'd think he'd wait until Cinnamon's birthday."

"WYNTER!" Jimmy cried, wondering if perhaps she was spending too much time with her adopted sister and picking up the little redhead's bad habits.

"That's okay, Mister McCauley. I won't tell the others if you'll show it to me."

Jimmy would have fainted, but he couldn't remember how. Fortunately his dad knew better than to misinterpret that.

"Show what to you?" he asked in genuine bewilderment.

"Huntly's new guitar."

When his dad looked at him, he used the look-and-shrug signal for the second time. He wondered how many more times he'd have to use it before dinner was over.

~ ~ ~

Wynter was surprised to find Doctor Brees in her father's room and even more to see a worried look on his face for an instant before it changed into a smile of greeting.

"Good evening, Future Doctor King," Doctor Brees said. He nodded at each as he added, "Marti. Keith. Jimmy. I was explaining to your patient that Kevin might let him go home tomorrow after your mother returns. Assuming, of course, that he'll be tied to the bed so that he can't get up and do anything else stupid."

Wynter giggled at the way he said that last sentence. Ron Lopez would have used the same weird voice, but Ron also would have made a funny face. "I probably should assign Dragon to guard him, too."

"Rodney Dangerfield got nothin' on me," her father said. Although he was mostly keeping his teeth together, he was making slight movements with his jaw. He wasn't clamping his mouth shut.

Doctor Brees shook a finger at him. "Don't forget that you have to be well by the party on the fifteenth, or I'll invite Dragon instead and you can stay home by yourself."

Wynter giggled when she understood what her father mumbled, though nobody else knew what he'd said. Perhaps that was a good thing. Jimmy had been embarrassed enough throughout dinner

"And speaking of home, I'm going there now to see if Cinnamon and Ghost left any dinner for me."

He didn't leave immediately. All four newcomers wanted him to relate the latest news about Mrs. Vasquez Senior's condition.

After Doctor Brees had left, Wynter scanned her father's chart and nodded while Daddy gave an oral update on his condition. They'd reduced his pain medication slightly. Daddy didn't like pain medicines and got off them as soon as possible. She nodded approval again, knowing it meant his pain was decreasing.

Ten minutes later Jimmy and his parents left for the waiting area. Wynter gave her father a nose-and-lips kiss.

"That's best medicine," he said with a smile. "Now I can survive shaving tomorrow."

"It's about time," she said, grinning so that he'd know she wasn't being critical. She told him about her tests and how she thought she would get a B in history. Her heart swelled in her chest when he said he was sure that wouldn't keep her out of medical school and that he'd still love her with all his heart even if she didn't have a four-point grade average. She told him about Huntly and Cinnamon spending the night. Finally she said, "Doctor Brees seemed to have anxiety disorder when we came in. Was it about Mrs. Vasquez Senior?"

"Rosita," he said. Wynter noticed the worry creeping onto his face and knew it was bad news. "She knows about Mitch and Cinnamon."

Wynter gasped. "How? Is she going to make trouble?"

"Don't know. She said she talk to him 'bout it tonight, 'cause she had to leave then, but she's taking care of things at her mother-in-law's house with Mike and the others. Hasn't seen her today. He's a wreck."

Wynter put on her diagnosis cap, frowned, and then pursed her lips before pushing them toward the right side of her face. It took her a little more than a minute.

"He doesn't need to worry. Mrs. Vasquez won't make any trouble. She won't do anything that would hurt Cinnamon, and if she says anything, that would mean Cinnamon would go back to Mrs. Brees. She won't let that happen.

"The real problem is how she knew, so that others don't find out. I guess it might be something we need to watch out for, too. I wonder if it means she won't get to have sexual activities with her father any more, or if Cinnamon will have something like my Friday nights with you. I..." She stopped suddenly when she had an idea flash through her mind.

"I'll bet Mrs. Vasquez was teasing him," she said excitedly. "She didn't know Cinnamon would spend the night with me, so she probably thought he'd say something to Cinnamon and she'd diagnose the situation, but if not..." she thought for a second. "If not, she'd have told him today. But then Mrs. Vasquez Senior had a myocardial infarction and she forgot about everything else. If she'd had any idea that he'd be worrying this long, she..."

Wynter stopped when she saw the look on his face. She frowned. "What?"

"Just admiring the brains of family at work," he said through his mostly closed teeth. "Mother and I knew you be special when you were born. We grossly underestimated how extra special. I'm very thankful that you're my daughter."

Wynter gently took his hand and pushed it up under her blouse and bra. She thought she might need his help keeping her heart in her chest.

~ ~ ~

Quasi-rigor mortis left Mitch's body and he slowly collapsed into a human puddle. He tried to keep his hands cupped around the firm hemispheres that looked even larger because Cinnamon's body was small, like her mother's, but he didn't have the strength. She had worked him into a frenzy before she let him climax, and every last ounce of remaining strength was needed just to keep his heart beating and his lungs pumping.

She grinned down at him, moving her bottom to keep him inside her body until the last possible second. "I think yours was better than mine that time," she said. "Maybe you'd better do me a third time."

"If I try that," he gasped as he sucked in ragged gulps of air, "you'll miss... half your tests... tomorrow before I... get it up... again."

She giggled and squirmed. For a moment he thought a miracle was about to happen, but fatigue canceled the erection almost instantly. Instead, he squirted out of her canal like toothpaste from a stomped-on tube. Her face warped into a little moue that made him want to spend the rest of their lives holding her and telling her how much he loved her. She sighed and said, "I guess I'd better not wear you out before Hailey arrives. If she doesn't get her share of you Sunday night, she'll make the rest of the summer miserable for everybody."

HAILEY! He'd forgotten about that. No way he could move Rosita into the house if his perpetually horny niece was there, otherwise it wouldn't be himself sneaking down the hall at night for sex after Hailey arrived. It would be his niece sneaking into his room. What would Rosita make of that?

For that matter, what the hell was she going to make of his relationship with Cinnamon? That idea frightened him. He hadn't seen Rosita since she left after her announcement the night before. It certainly wasn't something he wanted to discuss over the telephone.

As Cinnamon stretched out atop him, wrapping her arms over his head and snuggling her face into his neck, he wondered for the fiftieth time if he should say something to her about it. _No_, he decided yet again. _It wouldn't be fair to her. She doesn't need the distraction while she's taking tests tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow night, whether I speak to Rosita or not._

"I love you," she murmured, kissing his neck. "You don't mind if I go to sleep like this, do you?" she asked in a dreamy voice. She always asked, and he always said, "As long as I get to hold you, it doesn't matter how or where you sleep."

She murmured, "Good night," and was asleep in seconds. He kissed her shoulder, found her back under her long hair, and rubbed it in tender, relaxing strokes from neck to butt. Worry about her future delayed his slumber for half an hour.

~ ~ ~

Cinnamon sighed happily when her father whispered, "Good night. I love you," and crossed his arms over her in a sheltering hug. He rubbed her back as she dozed off. She felt more of him trickle out of her and seep down her lightly-haired lips to puddle on his stomach. Somehow that triggered the thought that it was bikini season. But she'd wait for Hailey's arrival before shaving. Hailey would want to shave her.

She wiggled her face into his neck, enjoying the mixture of his Lagerfeld cologne and body scent. She never thought of it as body 'odor' in his case, even when he'd been exercising heavily. She sighed again, though it was so faint that she herself barely noticed the sound. She loved nights like this when she could enjoy the fragrance directly as she dozed off, rather than having to content herself with the lingering scent on her pillow.

Five

Wynter inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly in a gentle sigh, and opened her eyes. The light level told her that the alarm would sound in a few minutes. She couldn't see her clock without unwrapping herself from around Jimmy's back, and she sure didn't want to do that. She gave him a gentle kiss on his neck, though not so light as to tickle him, and whispered, "I love you with all my heart."

She quickly ran her morning self-diagnosis, determined nothing was wrong except a distended bladder that could wait, and shifted her attention to her warm and snuggly bedmate. He was breathing slowly and regularly in deep sleep, he was warm and vibrant under her encircling arm and leg, and he needed a haircut because his neck was getting shaggy. She wished that they didn't have to go to school. She wanted to turn off the alarm clock before it awoke him and just watch, listen to, and feel him sleeping until she drifted back into slumber herself.

The alarm startled him. Jimmy normally awoke gradually to music from his clock radio instead of an alarm buzzer. She wondered which they'd use after they were married. She kissed his neck and said, "Good morning! I'll get it." With great reluctance she turned away and switched off the buzzer.

Jimmy shifted onto his back and stretched. "Morning already?" he asked through a yawn. "Didn't we just go to sleep a few minutes ago?"

She patted Dragon's head and wished him a good morning. He licked her hand and then left for his doggie door while she turned, rising enough to look down at Jimmy's sparkling eyes. They exchanged dragon-breath kisses.

"You know why today's an excellent day?" Jimmy asked, crossing his arms around her neck as if he foolishly expected her to try to pull away.

"Uh huh," she said with a nod. "Because you woke up next to me."

"Nope," he said with a sparkle in his eye that might have been mischief. She frowned at him, causing him to kiss her again before he continued. "Because I woke up next to you and there were no other people in the house."

She sure couldn't argue with that! No having to divide three bathrooms between four people today. She could use her parents' while Jimmy used the hall bathroom.

Since they had decided on cold cereal and juice for breakfast, they didn't have to dress to prepare it. Which was WHY they had decided on that menu. As they sat side-by-side on a bench seat in the breakfast nook, they occasionally fed each other bites of cereal and bananas.

"I'll be glad when we can wake up together every day," Jimmy said as he fed her a bite of cereal with his left hand. Because he could eat and do many other things with either hand, he had sat on her left, leaving his right arm and her left free for holding and cuddling. "And have breakfast together every morning, too."

Since it wasn't polite to talk with food in your mouth, she smiled and hummed her agreement.

Breakfast was over WAY too soon.

~ ~ ~

Jimmy closed his locker door and turned to the enthusiastic voice that shouted his name and Wynter's. "I think the final history grades have been posted," he said with a grin.

"Sounds like it," Wynter agreed as she closed her locker and also turned toward Suzie. "I hope she doesn't get in trouble for running in the hall."

"Nah," he said. "It's too crowded for her to really run, even with Josh breaking trail for her."

The four-way greetings were brief to keep Suzie from dying of excitement. "I got an A-minus in history! I got an A-MINUS!" She threw her arms around Wynter and dragged her around in a circular dance. Because she was a swimmer, her arm strength was easily greater than Jimmy's or even former-athlete Huntly's, and Wynter couldn't have resisted if she'd wanted to. Fortunately, Wynter didn't want to resist. Her feet found the rhythm of the circular dance.

"Oh, Wynter!" Suzie gushed. "You and Cinnamon found my dyslexia for me and now I got an A-minus! Thank you! I can't believe it! My parents won't believe it! Heck, I still don't believe it! An A-MINUS! Oh, Wynter, THANK YOU!"

Jimmy grinned at the way Wynter had become swept up in Suzie's excitement. When the two settled down he pointed and said, "Didn't you study with Josh? I think you owe him some thanks, too."

"You got it backward," Josh said. "I owe her. First she teaches me how to swim better, and then she teaches me history. I did so good on the final that I actually got a B-minus instead of a C-something for the semester! I owe her big time."

"Well, congratulations to both of you," Jimmy said, first giving Josh a handshake since he wasn't the one still wrapped around and hugging Wynter, and then hugging Suzie after she released Wynter. "Did you happen to see Wynter's grade?"

"Yeah!" Suzie gushed, the smile on her face never wavering. "She got a B. Where's Cinnamon? I gotta thank her, too, for finding my dyslexia!"

Wynter pointed down the hall. "She went that way to the girls' room with Snoopy and Possum."

Suzie grabbed Josh's hand and pulled. "Come on, Josh. We gotta find her before the bell rings!"

Both shook their heads in bemused delight as Suzie towed Josh down the hall. "I hope for his sake that she doesn't drag him inside," Jimmy said as he shook his head again.

When Wynter turned to him, he looked down at her beautiful blue-green eyes. "I'm surprised she didn't make a big deal out of getting a higher grade than you."

Wynter gave him an odd look. "She did. She just wasn't blatantly obvious about it like you males would be. One of these days Sis and I will explain subtlety to you and Huntly and Kenny."

Jimmy wasn't about to put his foot in that bear trap, so he changed the subject. "Looks like you blew your four-point for this semester," he said as sympathetically as he could.

Wynter shrugged her shoulders in a quick bounce. "It was worth it to see Suzie so happy," she said with a smile. "I'd do it again for that."

As her hand warmed his lower back, Jimmy squeezed her close and angled them toward Mr. Shelby's science classroom and the last test of the school year. Every step of the way was accompanied by his thoughts of how truly wonderful and selfless his girlfriend was. Anyone that willing to give up what she truly wanted for the sake of a friend's happiness shouldn't have inadequacy issues.

~ ~ ~

Wynter turned her test paper face down and put her pencil in its holder inside her notebook. Jimmy was already finished and was also waiting. She had finished five minutes earlier and then had triple-checked her answers. Instead of leaving, as several others had already done, she and Jimmy waited to speak with Mister Shelby.

Cinnamon rose from her desk, turned in her paper, and gave Wynter a warm smile before gathering her things. Sonny Turner rose and handed in his paper. Cinnamon waited and then left with him.

She was surprised that Kenny was still working on his test. Well, maybe she wasn't. He would mark a few answers, look at Suzie, and then let his mind wander in the way that Wynter and her father called "going someplace else".

"Five minutes," Mister Shelby said, his eyes on Kenny. That seemed to get Kenny's attention, and he furiously began filling in blanks and circling letter choices.

Suzie rose, her test paper in one hand, her things in the other, and handed in her paper. She gave Wynter and Jimmy thumbs-up signs on her way to the door. She ignored the sad puppy face of Kenny, who again looked contrite and went somewhere else.

"One minute."

Kenny resumed furious scribbling. Mister Shelby looked at Wynter, flicked his eyes at Kenny for an instant, and shook his head. Wynter nodded agreement, then looked at Jimmy to see if he'd translated the message.

Jimmy nodded. Either he was getting better at non-verbal communication, or the meaning was as blatantly obvious to everyone else as it had been to her.

"Time! Pencils down. Hand in your papers, please."

Kenny looked absolutely miserable as he turned from Mister Shelby to the door. He left without looking at anyone or anything except the floor. Wynter had seen that he'd been at the top of the next-to-last page.

Mister Shelby sorted the tests into two piles while Wynter and Jimmy waited for everyone else to leave the classroom, most voicing sighs of relief that tests were over until the fall.

"Well," Mister Shelby said after the others were gone, "what can I do for you two? Are you waiting to tell me that you finally talked Jimmy into Medical School, too?" Mister Shelby was always trying to recruit people into medical careers. He was hoping that Wynter would help him convince Jimmy to become a Future MD, too.

"No," Wynter said, trying not to grin as his face went from hopeful to disappointed. "We just wanted to wish you a happy summer vacation. We won't stay long because you have all those tests to grade."

Mister Shelby's broad, graying mustache widened with his smile. "I don't have all that many to grade," he said, pointing at the smaller pile of tests. "Just these."

Wynter could tell from the sound of Jimmy's voice when his curiosity had been aroused, even now after his voice had changed. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"To tell you the truth," he said, looking around as if he expected to find eavesdroppers sitting at the desks or clinging to the blackboard, "I give tests to everyone either as a training vehicle or because I have to. I don't give them to determine your grades, especially the finals. I see you every class. I grade your homework. I know who does his own homework and who has her mother do it for her. I see how you do at the workstations when we have practical exercises. I know how well you know the material." His clipped voice turned disdainful. "I don't need to grade a silly test to know what I see every day."

He reached forward with one index finger and carefully pushed upward on Wynter's chin, closing her mouth. "Take Mister Taylor, who was severely distracted today, obviously because he and Miss Middleton have had a quarrel. How well do you think he did on the test?"

"Not very," Wynter admitted. Doctors had to be truthful about the facts, no matter now much they might wish the facts were otherwise. Regardless, she saw no need to tell Mister Shelby that it wasn't just an argument but Suzie's breaking off their relationship that had depressed Kenny. She told herself that the actual reason was like a medical confidence.

"Precisely," Mister Shelby said. "So do you think he earned a B for the semester because he did horridly pathetic on today's test? Or do you think he earned an A because he knows the material forward and backward and merely failed to do an adequate job of putting it on paper for one day out of a whole semester?"

She felt Jimmy's back muscles stiffen beneath her hand. He hadn't thought of it that way, either.

"See?" Mister Shelby straightened and hooked his left thumb behind a bright red suspender. His right forefinger rose and waved emphasis as he said in his most imperious tone, "The advantage to taking Mister Shelby's Outstanding Science Class"--she could hear the capital letters in his voice--"is that you continue to learn even when class is over!"

"So, you aren't going to grade his test?" Jimmy asked.

Mister Shelby pointed to the smaller stack. "Why should I waste my time when I have those borderline people who need my careful attention to determine which grade they have earned? We all three know you have earned A's and that Kenny has, too."

Wynter pursed her lips and pushed them to one side for a moment. "Sir, may I ask which stack Suzie's test is in?"

"Of course you may ask," he said, looking slightly bewildered. "Isn't one of your ground rules that it's okay to ask any question as long the questioner is willing to take 'I don't want to answer that' as an answer?"

"Actually, that's a popular misconception," Jimmy said. "It's really her dad's rule."

"Which she brilliantly carries on in the family tradition. Yes. Suzie's in the big stack with the rest of you. It's no secret that she's barely a C student in science."

"Well, there really is a secret about that," Wynter said, "and you're the only teacher I trust with it without asking her permission first. We recently discovered that Suzie has dyslexia. We studied together. She studied really hard, with us reading the material to her, and I think she knows the subjects better now. Would you put her test in the grading stack as a favor for me?"

Mister Shelby shook his head. "No, I will not. It's against my principles to show favoritism. But I will put it in the grading stack because it's the right thing to do. Anyone else study with you?"

Jimmy nodded. "Josh Carter."

"Mister Carter's test was this morning, but I kept all the papers. I'll put his in this grading stack, too."

He jumped when Wynter sprang forward and embraced him in a huge hug. "Teachers aren't supposed to hug the students, you know," he said in his impish tone.

"You aren't," she said. "I'm hugging you."

"If it's okay with you," Jimmy said, "I'll just shake your hand."

~ ~ ~

The phone on the other end rang twice. It seemed to Suzie that the rings were hours apart or something. When Mrs. King answered, Suzie welcomed her back and asked for Wynter in a non-stop rush of words that took maybe one second flat.

She wondered why Mrs. King was laughing before she put Suzie on hold to buzz Wynter to answer. Maybe she was watching a comedy on television or something.

The phone clicked. "Hi, Suzie."

"Wynter! Guess what! I GOT A B IN SCIENCE! Mister Shelby called to tell me! Isn't that great? Mister Shelby said I was supposed to tell you about it for some reason or something! I GOT A B!"

After a couple of minutes of excited cheering and thanks and exchanging opinions about some of the questions, Wynter asked how Josh had done.

"I'm not sure," Suzie said, "but I think he got a B or a B-minus. I gotta call him next. But it's all thanks to you and Jimmy!"

"No it's not. It's thanks to hard studying on your part and learning the material."

Suzie thanked her again anyway and then asked, "Are you going to the hospital to see your dad tonight?"

When Wynter said that she was, Suzie asked if she could go with them.

"Sure. Do you plan to scream at him?"

Suzie laughed. She was at least as famous for her screaming dynotribe, or dialtribe--or whatever that stupid word was--at the sanctimonious old judge whose stupid son had kidnapped them at the mine as she was for her part in the rescue. And now, three months after the talent show, people were still talking about the way she screamed at the stupid audience in the middle of Tyrone's act to get them to stop acting like they were a bunch of dead zombies or something.

"Not unless he's planning to do something else stupid," she said. "I just wanted to since I haven't yet. Since the accident, I mean. I mean, I haven't seen him. Oh, you know! Well, I gotta call Josh. I sure hope he got one, too. Got a B in science, I mean."

They said their goodbyes and she dialed Josh's number. She thought it was weird that Wynter was laughing exactly the same way her mother had. She wondered if it was that stupid thing they'd mentioned in science class the first semester. Generics.

~ ~ ~

Richard grinned at the closing door. He shook his head slightly, pleased to note that the movement hadn't set off any more intracranial dynamite. He noted the pleased grin on Wynter's face. "If she'd beaten your science grade, too, I think they'd have moved me out so that she could have this room."

Before Wynter could speak, Angie said, "Oh, I don't think so. Suzie has enough sense not to do anything so stupid that it would put her in the hospital."

"Motherrrr," Wynter drawled, turning to her and rolling her eyes. "That part of his treatment is over."

"Not for me," Angie said as she curled an arm around Wynter's shoulders. "I've been away. I have to catch up."

"I'll go join Suzie in the cafeteria," Wynter said. She kissed him goodbye and then added a nose-and-lips kiss, "I'll see you at home tomorrow after school, if you survive."

"You aren't going to stay?" he asked.

"Unh uh. I'm only twelve. I shouldn't hear what Mother's going to say until I've graduated from Medical School, at least."

That was what Richard was afraid of.

"Oh," she said as she reached the door. "Did you talk to Doctor Brees?"

"Yes, and he said to thank you."

"For what?" Angie asked with a puzzled look.

"Um, we can't say," Wynter explained. "It would violate a confidence."

"Oh." Angie shrugged. "Okay, then. I'll meet you in the cafeteria in ten minutes. Or sooner if he doesn't survive."

Wynter's coral lips exploded in a big grin. She pulled open the door and turned. "Good night, Daddy. I love you with all my heart." One index finger traced an "X" over her heart.

"I love you with all my heart, too," he said, repeating the gesture.

After the door closed, he spoke first. "I have a good idea. Why don't you join Wynter in the cafeteria and have Suzie come back and scream at me?"

To his great non-surprise, that didn't work.

~ ~ ~

Wynter returned Suzie's wave, then went to the counter to buy some apple juice. As she reached Suzie's table she heard her name from off to the side.

"Mister Sanders!" She suddenly realized the serious look on his face as he approached meant something wasn't good news, and her smile faded. When he reached them, she said, "You remember Suzie, don't you?"

He sure did. He exchanged a quick, friendly greeting and then said, "I have just a minute. I thought I'd grab something for Ace and me. I'm covering for Zoomie tonight. Did you hear about Doctor V's mother?"

Wynter felt a very sad chill run throughout her whole body. "No. Did she die?"

Mister Sanders shook his head. "No, but she had three heart attacks and is in a coma. Nobody expects her to come out of it. Doctor Vasquez finally convinced the last holdout to agree that no heroic measures would be used when it happens again."

"Oh, no!" said Suzie in a mournful tone. "She is such a very nice lady. She doesn't deserve something like that."

Mister Sanders nodded his agreement. "But it seems to be what she wants. She sure is getting there the hard way, though." After another minute's conversation Mister Sanders wished them a good night and headed for the counter.

Wynter sat down and started to speak to Suzie, but she stopped herself. Suzie was holding her Diet Coke in both hands and slowly turning the glass, looking through it at nothing.

Suzie finally focused on Wynter, but her voice remained far away as she said, "Here I was all excited about my stupid grades, and Mrs. Vasquez Senior is in a stupid coma and may never wake up."

Wynter gently curled a hand around one of her best friend's wrists. "Suzie, that's the way life is. There's always sadness and there's always happiness. Doctor Taylor said that you should always enjoy as much of the happiness as you can, so that when the sadness comes along, you'll be better prepared to deal with it."

Suzie was quiet for a moment. "Maybe," she said in a soft, faraway voice. "But it seems like every time happiness comes around, the stupid sadness is just a couple of minutes behind or something." Her eyes slowly lifted to Wynter's, and her mouth opened to speak. Wynter thought for sure that Suzie was going to say something about Kenny.

"Suzie! Wynter!" Timmy Gagnon cried as he approached their table. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Suzie's mouth closed. The moment had passed. The girls greeted Timmy. "My dad's still here," Wynter explained, "but he's going home tomorrow. Mother's explaining the rules to him, and we're here so that she can use language he'll understand. Is your mother here again?"

"Yeah," Timmy said as he pulled out a chair and sat in it. "She was feeling so good that she didn't take her heart medicine for a couple of days. Dad's admitting her, and she's in the ER, so I came here for a Coke. Maybe when your mom is finished, she can help Dad explain the rules to my mom."

Wynter shook her head in disbelief. Some people just didn't understand how the medicines worked, even when they had to take them every day for the rest of their lives. "She shouldn't stop because she feels better. It's the medicine that's making her feel better. She should..." She stopped because Suzie had squeezed her forearm.

"Timmy knows," Suzie said with a 'here-we-go-again' look. "It's Mrs. Gagnon that you need to lecture."

Timmy grinned. "Wynter can help Doctor V lecture her if he's still here."

"Doctor Vasquez may not see her," Wynter said, realizing she wasn't keeping the personal sadness out of her voice the way she'd planned. She worried that it made her seem unprofessional. "It's his mother. She's in serious condition, if not critical."

Timmy's grin faded into a sad face. "I didn't know. I feel sorry for Doctor V. First his dad and now his mother."

Suzie and Timmy exchanged a few stories about Mister Vasquez Senior and his wife. Some were new to Wynter. Sure, it wasn't a very big town, but Wynter was always surprised at the number of lives that the Vasquez Seniors had touched. Then Timmy said, "I'm just glad I got to know them for a while. Hey, I heard you beat me in history."

If Suzie's face grew any brighter, Wynter just knew you'd be able to read by it in the dark. "Yeah, I did! I beat Wynter, too! And I got a B in science! Can you believe it?"

"Well, yeah," Timmy said with a shrug. "I never thought you were dumb, like some of the girls were always saying."

Wynter had always liked Timmy. Now she thought he was one of the nicest boys in the whole school.

"Really?" Suzie asked in a surprised voice.

"Sure." His voice turned quiet and shy. "I'm looking forward to your birthday again and... I hope I get invited."

Timmy clearly was referring to the kissing contest, where Suzie, as the honoree, got to judge which of the boys kissed best. Suzie grasped that as well as Wynter did because her voice suddenly turned... well, it wasn't seductive, but that was the only word Wynter could think of besides 'interested,' and it was more than that. "Don't worry," Suzie said, "you will be."

Wynter suddenly felt out of place and wondered if she should get herself some more juice. But Mother entered the cafeteria at that moment. She waved until Mother saw her and then said to Timmy with mischief in her voice, "Huntly's birthday is in a couple of weeks, if you want to practice your birthday kissing technique."

She and Suzie both laughed at the horrified look on his face.

"N-n-no!" he spluttered. "I-I'll just wait for Cinnamon's birthday and see if I get invited to it."

"Relax. You're already on her list," Wynter said. She and Sis frequently spent the night with each other, and they'd sit or lie in the dark together and talk about all sorts of things, including boys. Sis was planning on a big party, and her principal criterion was that all the boys had to be kissable. Timmy's name was at the top of the list based on Wynter's description of kissing techniques at her own party in December.

Timmy seemed very relieved. He stood and greeted Mother. She politely declined his offer to bring her something. They talked for a moment, and then Timmy wished everyone a good night. As he went toward the soft drinks, Wynter and Suzie cleared their things from the table.

"Did the patient survive?" Wynter asked as they headed for the door.

"He said you were much rougher on him than I was," Mother said with a frustrated sigh. "Can you teach me what you did?"

"Sure she can," Suzie said, her face beaming with a wide smile. "You're a girl. You listen and pay attention. You'll be much easier for her to teach than some dolt of a guy."

~ ~ ~

Mitch knew about Mike Vasquez's mother's sudden turn for the worse. It had happened as he was leaving the hospital for the day. As a result he was surprised when he found Rosita at the house, preparing dinner for Cinnamon and himself. She'd said she needed a little normal routine in her life at the moment, and he had dropped the subject. That was a need he understood all too well. He invited her to dine with them, only to learn that Cinnamon had already offered and she'd accepted.

He wasn't surprised at his daughter's thoughtfulness because it was one of the many things that he loved about her. She had set the dining room table for the three of them before she asked Rosita, and then used that as leverage to convince Rosita to stay. Mitch doubted Rosita needed much leverage, if any, but Cinnamon rarely overlooked any detail or any potential results of miscalculation. That was another thing he admired about the most important person in his life.

After they ate, Cinnamon immediately kissed him, then Rosita, and then disappeared to her room, saying she needed to contact Hailey. He found that unusual because Cinnamon always helped Rosita clear the table when she ate with them. He decided that his daughter was merely too excited about Hailey's impending arrival. Maybe that was the way normal twelve-year-olds were supposed to act. If so, he was happy to see it. For far too long the person inside the twelve-year-old body had been a thirty-year-old woman thanks to... he caught himself before he could think the words, 'her mother' and substituted instead 'Gwendolyn.'

"Looks like I'm your bus boy tonight," he said.

Rosita gave him a sympathetic look. "Mitch, you've had a busy day. Why don't you go to the den and pour a couple of glasses of port for dessert? I'll join you when I'm done here."

He draped his arms over her shoulders and pressed his forehead to hers. "And you've had an easy day? Come on. I'll help. That way we can both get to the wine sooner."

His head rocked when she shook hers. "If you expect to marry me, you need to learn how to obey orders like a proper husband."

"I wouldn't know anything about that," he said. "I've never had a proper marriage."

"I know," she said, "but I have. I can train you to follow orders. Cinnamon says you're trainable."

He stiffened involuntarily. "You told her about us?" He couldn't believe that she'd tell Cinnamon without his approval and participation.

She laughed in a way that said she'd needed an excuse to do so. "No. But your name does come up occasionally when we talk. You are her favorite conversation subject, you know. She's always said you've loved her enough for two parents, and she clearly gives you the additional love she'd have given to that despicable woman if she'd acted like a real mother instead of a self-centered spawning chamber."

Mitch recognized the bitterness in those final words because he felt it himself whenever he thought of the way Gwendolyn had treated the finest daughter anyone could ever hope to have. He kissed Rosita and then turned to gather plates and silverware from the table. "Okay. I hope I'm not too old and set in my ways to learn," he said.

Rosita gathered the glasses, serving utensils, and some of the leftovers. "Probably not. You're only a couple of years older than me, and I'm still young enough to learn. In fact, I learned something new today."

"Which was?"

She led the way through the butler's pantry and into the kitchen. She indicated the family room with a thrust of her head. "That the second floor gallery is a wonderful place to stand and look down into the family room while Cinnamon practices."

Cinnamon's drum kit sat at the west end of the family room. From the gallery one could look directly down at it. "Really? I never thought of that," he said. "It has to be a whole new way of appreciating her talent." He made a mental note to watch the next time he was home while Cinnamon practiced.

"You have no idea," she said. "As hard as it is to believe, it makes her look all the more remarkable. Just set those on the island. I'll load the dishwasher while you fetch the rest."

Minutes later he handed Rosita a glass of port, sat in his den recliner, and waited while she made herself comfortable in his lap. They snuggled into a comfortable position, making small talk that avoided any mention of her mother-in-law's coma.

"I need to apologize to you," she said after a long moment of silence which each spent enjoying the closeness of the other. "I thought that if I let you sweat overnight about Cinnamon, you would listen more closely to what I had to say. Then Mama Rosa..." She hesitated, her words choked off so that the name came out as a squeak.

"Some things are beyond your control, Rosita," Mitch said softly as she buried her face in his neck. He placed his glass on an end table, took hers, and put it there, too. "I could write a book on that fact, you know. A multi-volume set all based on personal experience. So you got... distracted by current events and forgot, right? Under your circumstances, I can't blame you. You don't need to apologize for that."

Mitch wished he could tell her that he already understood, but he'd have to be fair about it and say that it was Wynter, not himself, who had arrived at the conclusion. There was no way he could tell Rosita that without getting into other people's secrets.

Rosita inhaled sharply in a liquid sniff. "I'm not. I'm apologizing because I thought I needed to get your attention first. I was afraid that after all the years with that woman that you'd tune me out." Again her voice rose to a squeak.

His upper arm wrapped around her, and his hand rubbed circles on her back. "It's not an unreasonable assumption when I think about it. That's not so bad."

She sighed and lifted her head to look at him. Tears ran from her dark eyes and left wet trails down her cheeks before collecting on, and dripping from, her chin. "What's bad is that I didn't give you a chance. I foolishly assumed you weren't the person you'd shown yourself to be, and then I didn't give you the chance to prove that I was wrong."

"Thereby proving," he said, pausing to give her a kiss, "that you're human, and therefore that I've made a much better choice than Gwendolyn for Cinnamon's mother. Now: whatever you want to say, you certainly have my attention, and I won't tune you out."

She clamped her lips in a wry smile. "I know. You wouldn't have then, either. I... I don't know where to begin."

"Well," he said, reaching for her wineglass. "You might start with how you found out."

She thanked him for the glass and sipped the wine. Mitch thought she was on the verge of gulping it, but she maintained her re-found composure. "Lagerfeld." When he frowned at her, she smiled. "I kept noticing that Cinnamon's pillows smelled like yours. At first I thought she was swapping pillows with you. Maybe the smell of your cologne at night was what she needed to keep that woman from driving her crazy. But little things didn't add up over time. Too many occasions when it couldn't be that for too many reasons."

Mitch would never have thought of that. He was surprised Cinnamon hadn't either.

Well, that was a ridiculous thought. Despite her sometimes-apparent age, the girl really was only twelve, almost thirteen, and not thirty. "And so you decided that I was sleeping with her?"

"Yes. As in resting unconscious overnight. I never thought about you having sex with her. I thought it was just two miserable people who loved each other finding some comfort in the close presence of the other. Two tortured souls with a common demon. And I'm sure it was that, too."

"Yes," said Mitch, not realizing how far away in time and in space his voice was. "It started out that way. All we had was each other, and she was my lifeline to sanity. God, I put such a burden on her with the strain of the hospital and home life, too. She wasn't just my daughter and my surrogate wife, she was also my psychiatrist, my therapist..."

"...and your best friend," Rosita said in conclusion for him. Then she did him the favor of returning the conversation to its original topic. "She uses those soft white towels for the wet spot, doesn't she? I thought so. Well, one night part of you missed the towel, or she removed it too soon. Anyway, the evidence on the sheet when I did the laundry was the final clue, back on April Fool's Day."

Mitch was startled. "You've known that long?"

"At first I thought it was Huntly, or one of her other friends, but then I remembered that no boys had been over since I'd changed the linen. I didn't say anything because I wanted to think about it. I couldn't get mad, though I definitely thought I wanted to. If it hadn't been for that despicable woman, I mightn't have been as tolerant."

"If it hadn't been for her, you'd have had no reason to be tolerant, I'm sure."

Rosita gave him an odd smile. He was beginning to recognize it as her 'You said something dumb' look. "Maybe. But maybe not. I've noticed that Cinnamon is quite good at getting what she wants. And who she wants.

"I've also noticed that you know about that and aren't overly concerned. That means you trust her judgment. You love her too much to spoil her by allowing her to indulge in potentially dangerous behavior."

He reached for his own wineglass. "Being a doctor's kid has its advantages, I guess. So you're saying you want us to quit now. Okay, we..."

"No."

The response surprised him. The glass stopped an inch from his mouth. "You don't?"

Her shoulders lifted in a gentle shrug and her eyes searched his. "I've thought about this for a long time, sweetheart. I've gone through about every emotion in the book, and maybe a couple that aren't in the book. I've seen my bedside clock reach one or two in the morning more times than I want to remember.

"Look, I'm a realist, especially when it comes to Cinnamon and her... capabilities. You might agree to end it, but if she decided she wanted you again, she'd get you eventually, and then you'd feel guilty and try to hide that from me to protect me. This marriage won't work if we lie to each other for any reason. I deserve better than that. So do you. So does Cinnamon, because she doesn't deserve to live in another strained domestic household."

"No," he said firmly, "she doesn't. I swore a solemn oath that I'd never put her in that situation again, no matter the emotional cost to me."

She nodded understanding. "When I said there's be no more sneaking down the hall at night for sex, I meant to end the sneaking part. That's all. Even after we're married, if you want to spend some time with her, you don't have to wait for me to go to sleep and sneak down the hall like you did with that woman. Just tell me that you'll be busy for a while and go."

"This isn't a joke, is it?" he asked, trying not to sound as wary as he felt.

Her bright laugh was the second best sound he'd heard since he arrived home. The first had been Cinnamon's voice as she raced Ghost down the hall to greet him. "No!" She kissed him. "I'm serious. I'm mostly comfortable with the idea now. Just don't wear yourself out. I might want some attention myself when you return. But it would have to be when you returned. I'm not into the idea of threesomes. Deal?"

He held his glass up in a toast. Hers rang against it and they drank a toast to themselves and to openness in the household.

"Speaking of openness," she said, pausing to kiss him and trace the outline of his ear with a fingertip, "maybe we should tell her about us now."

"No," Mitch said as he placed the empty glasses on the table. "I've been thinking about it. Hailey's coming, and we don't want to distract her from their having a good time. Maybe after Hailey's been here a week or two."

She agreed and buried her face in his neck again, this time to the accompaniment of small kisses instead of tears. He wondered if he should tell Rosita about his relationship with Hailey, too. _Better not at this time,_ he decided. _I shouldn't press my luck after what she's already agreed to. Especially now that I've remembered something Richard told me._

"Honey?" he asked, stroking her hip as she hummed her query in response. "What if we gave Cinnamon one night a week with me and you got the rest?"

© Russell Hoisington 2007

Continued in Wynter & Hailey Part Two