Recovery

By Fantasy

Standard Disclaimer: The characters of Xena and Gabrielle don’t belong to me, they belong to Rob Tapert and Renaissance/MCA Pictures. I invited them to a little beach party, and I will be sure to bring them home at a descent time. There will be chaperones to watch over us all. I’m not getting paid for this in any way, only by your praise for my talents?

Violence Disclaimer: There is none, unless you count Harley’s golf game. There maybe some later.

Sex/Language Disclaimer: This piece, which has developed into a series, thanks for the positive feedback by the way, tells the story of a family and their devotion to one another, and their friends. This family is not considered a conventional or socially accepted, boooo.

There is a loving relationship between to people of the same sex. Consenting adults are doing the nasty, and it does get graphic near the end. Both Becca and Stace have an attack of "potty mouth", so be prepared. For those of you who are not 21 years of age, please do not read this piece. If you have a personal bias against this sort of relationship, I encourage you to open your mind. If you live in a state where this sort of thing is illegal, DO NOT READ THIS, PLEASE GO AWAY!!

Hurt/Comfort: Yeah, unfortunately it is here, but very brief. There is no discussion of child abuse in this one, but there are some other issues that might bother some of you. If you are one of those, please don’t go any further.

As I mentioned, this single story and characters has gotten hold of my imagination, and won’t let go. I’ve continued with these characters because there are those of you out there who seem to like my work and want to see more. I really do need the feedback so I can determine whether or not to continue this series, or simple fold my tent and slip off into the night…You may email constructive criticism to me fantasy@clarkston.com. Incidentally, this story will make absolutely no sense whatsoever if you don’t read "Loss", the first in the series. Later!

Recovery

by

Fantasy

September 22, 2000

Chapter 1: The Aftermath…

I sit here and watch her sleep. She’s been through so much these past six months. Today is her birthday, and I want it to be special for her. All our friends will be here today for the celebration. She hates anyone to make a fuss over her. She can be so butch sometimes, although she hates that term. She says it reminds her of a boy she knew in her youth…

"I can’t believe you can’t catch the darn ball. Are you really that clumsy? Jeeze Butch, let’s get with it; I’m not gonna loose this game!" What a jerk! You won’t get argument from me. Who are you? Aahh, I’m your little voice. I’ll be hanging out with you. For how long? How long do you plan on being here? I dunno, a couple hours. No smartass, not at the ballpark, on this earth…y’know, living? Oh my God…

A soft knock on our door brought me out of my revere. "Come in, I said softly." Margie came in carrying a breakfast tray, and sat it down on the table in front of the window near where I was sitting. "She still zonked out huh? She had another really rough night didn’t she?" Rough night would be an understatement. "Yes, these nightmares seem to be going on and on." I arose from my chair, and went over to our king-size bed and brushed the tousled hair from her eyes and rearranged the blankets and tucked them under her chin. I couldn’t stop the tear that tracked slowly down my cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by Margie. "Hey, Mac is tough. No matter what has happened to you two, you have always gotten through together. This is no different. And if you aren’t enough incentive for her, I’ll kick her rosie red ass, and get her jump-started, don’t think I won’t! Now come get your breakfast, you’re still not 100% yet either; you need to eat." God, what would we have done without Margie and the rest of our family and friends through all this?

"Y’know, if you don’t cut the PT’s some slack, and cooperate a little bit, you’re not going to get to come home. Frankly, I’m getting a little tired of your ‘tude’ there little missy. So knock it off and get to work." I wasn’t ready to cut anyone any slack, least of all the torturers who were doing excruciating things to my body, and expecting me to blithely go along with their sadistic little games. C’mon Bec, it could be worse, Mac could be the one doing all this. Are you back? Yeah, cool huh? I thought you were Mac’s little voice, why are you bugging me? Oh call it lease lending; I’m doing double duty. Besides you’re a lot better looking. Now how know how Stace feels. Oh all right. "What do I get if I cooperate?" The look on Stace’s face took on a look of unabashed lechery. "My undying affection, and eternal gratitude…among other things." Two eyebrows waggled wickedly… How could I resist such an offer?

I wheeled my chair to the end of the parallel bars. My wife and one of my torturers waited at the other end of this torture apparatus. The second took up his position behind me. God I hate this. "Okay Mrs. McGregor, we’ll take this slow and easy." Sure that’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one doing this, asshole. You can say that again. That’s eas…Shut-up. I pulled myself up out of the chair and balanced myself, hanging on to the two bars in a death grip. Even this simple movement was horrendously painful. With the PT behind me in case I took a header, I started off. With each step burning pain stabbed through me like fire hot pokers. Stace kept telling me that was my body’s way of telling me it was healing myself. Couldn’t it message be a little less extreme? No doubt. I made it halfway down the bars when I stumbled and fell. Tate started to pick me up, but my wife stopped him. "Tate don’t you dare touch her; she has to do this on her own." Tate backed away, and I looked up and glared at Stace. Her face was impassive.

At that moment, I wanted to hurt my wife; I wanted to make her feel the pain I felt. "Dr. McGregor, you bitch; I can’t do this. My God this hurts, you have no idea how much it hurts." Stace never moved; the expression on her face never changed. "Mac maybe she’s not rea…" My lover cut the PT off angrily. "Robert, do your job. If you can’t, then I’ll find someone else who will. Do I make myself clear? All right, Rebecca Marie, get up off your butt and walk. Unless you want to remain in that chair for the rest of your life, get up and move it." I was in a state of near hysteria. If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what you’ll get, and when I get down there, I’m gonna knock you on your ass. I’ll hold her while ya do it. Deal. I drug myself to my feet somehow, and started forward. With each step, the searing pain coursed through me. One slow, agonizing step after the other, I got closer to my goal. My tormentor was going to be extremely sorry when I reached her. "That’s it Bec, you can do it! C’mon, yeah!" Robert encouraged me on with each movement; while my wife, my lover, soulmate said absolutely nothing. After I finally reached the end of the bars, Tate was there instantly with the chair. I fell into it, totally exhausted. Sweat drenched my body. "That’s enough for today; Tate take Rebecca back to her room." That’s it?! That’s all?! I am gonna kill her, that bitch.

I was stunned, I couldn’t believe my lover could possibly be so cold. I stopped the chair near the door. "Tate, wait, turn this thing around." When I turned, Stace was no longer in the room. "Where is she Robert; where’s my wife?" Both Robert and Tate hesitated, obviously trying to decide whose wrath they wanted to endure, mine or Stace’s. "I asked you a question, and my patience is all but gone. Tell me where she is now, or I’ll wheel around this trauma center ‘til I find her. Now, what’s it gonna be." Tate still hesitated, but Robert was ready to confess. Tate still wasn’t sure; the expression on his face said so. "Tate, she’s got to know, neither one of them can go on like this much longer." I was pissed; no way past pissed, I was livid. "Where in the hell is she!" Robert finally answered. "She’s out there. She goes out there after every one of your PT sessions and gets control of herself again." What the hell does he mean? Control? My eyes followed the direction Robert was pointing toward the balcony. Tate tried to stop me, but over the months of wheeling this damn chair around, my upper body strength was tremendous, and I was read to simply mow him over. "Becca, I don’t think…Stace doesn’t want…" I would not be dissuaded. "Out of my way meatball unless you want tire tracks all up and down your body." Tate hesitated still until another voice spoke. "I’d get out of her way if I were you," Rachel ordered, "it’s time all this to end."

I started to wheel myself to the door, but Robert stopped me. "Here let me help; you’re exhausted." Tate and Rachel stayed near the door, in case…I don’t know. In case what? The sight that met my eyes was the most heart wrenching thing I’d ever seen. There on the floor was my world curled into a fetal position, her knees pulled tightly against her chest, just rocking back and forth. The wracking sobs tore at my heart until I thought it would be ripped from my body. It took all my energy reserves to wheel over to where my baby was in the corner. I’m sure she wasn’t even aware I was there. I spoke softly so as not to startle her. "Stace…" No response, so I tried again. "Stace---baby? Can you hear me?" Again I received no response. I wheeled as close as I could, and push myself out of the chair, and down onto the floor next to my lover. Slowly, deliberately, I reached out to touch my lover. She didn’t push me away, nor did she welcome my touch. She simply didn’t respond either way. I reached out to her and cupped her chin in my hand and turned her tear stained face to me. The look of pain and anguish was all I needed to see to know the truth.

Stace spoke the words anyway. "I do know how much it hurts, my angel. God help me I do." My lover broke down again as did I. I drew my Stace into my arms and we held each other as though we were afraid to let go, and perhaps we were. I kissed my lover’s hair sweetly, and whispered. "Please don’t cry anymore, we’ve both cried enough tears to last a lifetime. I understand now why you treated me the way you did. I don’t blame you, but it hurt so much; I thought you didn’t love me anymore. But now I realize you loved me enough to hurt me, to get me angry enough with you to forget my pain and walk. That’s it isn’t it?" I felt my baby’s head nod against my chest. "I love you so very much. You know that don’t you? And you know it worked. I wanted to knock you on your butt."

I thought, perhaps I felt a small movement at the corner of my wife’s lips. I pushed Stace away from me just enough to tilt her head up toward mine. "I’m going to kiss you now. I’m going to kiss you like you haven’t been kissed in a very long time." And kiss her I did. Our lips touched gently, softly at first. One kiss turned into several tiny sweet kisses designed to taste, and savor. This wasn’t about lust or passion, but more about reconnecting. I felt like I was home again. Stace looked at me through red swollen eyes. "Will you forgive me my love, please? I am so very sorry I hurt you, and I promise as God as my witness, I will never hurt you again." How could I say no? "Yes, my darling, yes." Our lips met again, and this time the kiss was more passionate.

Tentatively a tiny pink tongue reached out and painted my lips with feather light touches. Without hesitation, I opened my mouth to her questing tongue, and the reconnection was complete. Tongues explored mouths, and dueled and danced one with the other. We broke apart, because we needed air desperately. "Honey, will you help me up this time, because I know I won’t be able to on my own." Stace extricated herself from my arms, and in one swift sure movement she lifted me up in her arms and carried we through the door. "Stace, God put me down; you’re going to hurt yourself." Why do you even bother; you know she won’t listen. "I’ll put you down in a minute." Stace carried me into the whirlpool room and kicked the door closed. She carefully set me down on a bench and began to remove my clothes and hers too. "What are you…" Stace put her fingers to my lips to silence me. "It’s time for some PT therapy, personal therapy; the kind only I can give you." Rachel and the two PT’s unobtrusively watched the scenario play itself out, and Dr. Donnovon quietly closed the door. "Now the road to complete recovery can begin."

That was four months ago. I had survived the accident, but persistent swelling and pressure on my spinal column had left me paralyzed from the waist down. Stace called in the best neurosurgeon in the country to examine me. In consultation with the myriad of doctors involved with my case, the decision was unanimous: surgery would not correct my problem. If and when the swelling would go down, physical therapy would be the logical choice of treatment. I was placed in traction for most of the day, and then went through rigorous PT for an hour each day, I had muscle massage and whirlpool sessions designed to keep my muscles from tightening up and to keep them from becoming atrophied. The worst part of all the treatment was the pain. I had excruciating headaches, and the pain in my neck and back was tremendous. But through a lot of hard work, perseverance, and Stace being the hateful, there was no other way to describe it, taskmaster she was, I am well on the way to recovery. I have discarded the hated chair, and my therapy now consists of swimming laps, the massage, and jacuzzi sessions all of which I can do here at home. My leg and back muscles are still stiff, but getting stronger everyday; I tire easily, and walk with a slight limp. But the headaches aren’t nearly as severe or as frequent, so I don’t have to take the pain meds except on rare occasions.

The only obvious trauma, from the whole ordeal, is Stacey’s nightmares. She blames herself for most of my pain, which she believes she inflicted upon me. She has never forgiven herself for hurting me, even though I have. I finally talked her into seeing a therapist about the dreams, but so far it hasn’t helped. Doctor Friar said the real problem is she hasn’t yet forgiven herself, and compounded by her being abused as a child, the dreams persist. All I can do is be here for her---hold her at night when she cries, let her know I love her, and try to soothe her damaged soul. The worst part is the tortured look in her eyes when she looks at me. No longer do I see love, devotion, and trust in her eyes; instead hurt and shame reside there now.

Chapter 2: Am I Too Damn Old for This…Not. September 15, 2000

I turn toward the window and watched the sea birds duck and dive in the surf in search of a meal. I glance at the clock that reads 8:20am; Stace has had four hours of uninterrupted sleep. It seems like such a small thing to ask, but what I wouldn’t give for just one full night of blessed peaceful sleep for my beloved. I sense a movement in the bed, and look over to see my lover stir slightly and then one blue sleepy eye opened. I knelt down next to the bed, and ran my fingers through my sweetheart’s hair. "Good morning lover; sleep well? Happy Birthday my love." I sunk down until I our lips touched. The kiss was tender and sweet, and just a little bit sloppy. I love really wet kisses with my baby. "Yeah, actually I did get a few hours of descent sleep, ‘cause you were here with me. How do you feel this morning? Any pain?" Being married to a doctor makes for some interesting conversations, and there is no sense in trying to pull anything over on Stace when I’m not feeling well. "Y’know you’ve asked me that every morning for the last six months. I would think my now, you would want to know something else." A playful salacious gaze came into my lover’s eyes, and for the first time, in a long time, the smile reached those lapis pools. "Okay, ya wanna fool around?" Oh Oh, look out Bec, the wolf is back.

A wandering hand appeared from under the blankets and wormed its way inside my robe and began a thorough exploration of the skin beneath. "What about breakfast?" I groaned as my lover’s hand found my moist swollen lips. From my kneeling position, I spread my legs wider to give my lover greater access, and began a slow rhythmic undulation of my hips to match the stroking of my lovers fingers. "Margie---will skin---us alive---if we---don’t eat." A lascivious grin covered my wife’s face as she began stroking me the length of my sex. "I have a far more refined palate which requires something a little more exotic than just sausage and eggs. No this morning ambrosia is more to my liking." With great difficulty, I stopped the questing hand. "Wait baby." Sensually I rose to my feet and loosened the tie holding my robe closed. I let it fall soundlessly off my shoulders to pool on the floor around my feet. A low lustful growl emitted deep from my lover’s chest. In a graceful feline like move so quick, I never saw it coming, Stace engulfed in her arms and I was thrown to the bed. "To hell with breakfast, to hell with foreplay, women let’s get right to the good stuff."

I found my nude form covered with my wife’s naked skin, her wet center grinding against mine. Her hands, lips, and tongue were everywhere at once. God my baby was so hot, so fierce. Oh how I’ve missed this. Yeah you go girls! "Yes baby, do it," I cried, "love me. You feel so good rubbing against me." It had been so long, I was ready to cum, but it was too soon. My baby wasn’t going to ease up. "Oh baby, c’mon angel, cum for me." My wife began a fast, furious circular grind on my sex. Stace reached between us to separate our nether lips so our clits were touching. "That’s it baby. Oh you feel so good. Your clit is so hard rubbing against mine. Baby---I---can’t---hold----God I’m cummmiiinnnggg. Beeecccaaa!" It wasn’t but an instant before I fell over the edge with my Stace. "Yyyeeesss!!! Staaccceee!!!" We both collapsed together, our sweaty bodies tangled together. "Oh sweetheart, I love you so much, and I’ve needed this, us together for so long. A—are--are we okay?" I could understand why Stace asked that, I too was wondering if we were ever going to get our life back the way it was. "Yes baby, we’re okay. We always were, it just took us a little while to realize it." I wrapped my Stace in my arms, and brushed her curly hair away from her face, and kissed her forehead tenderly. "I think I could take a little nap now; will you stay with me angel?" I kissed her lips, and reassured her. "I’ll always be here; I’ll never leave you; I love you."

The mid-morning sun came blasting into our bedroom windows, the sheer curtains doing nothing to stop the annoying light. My God, I feel like I’ve been run over by a semi, twice. But what a way to go, oh yeah. I looked down at my angel sleeping peacefully one half on me, and one half on the bed. The sheets were covering only our legs, and I had a wonderful view of my wife’s naked body. She is absolutely flawless: from the top of her head, to the tip of her toes, the gods could not have created anything so perfect. Her breasts, god how I love to lic… A gentle knock sounded on our bedroom door. Oh nuts. C’mon birthday girl; rise and shine. Damn, you back? Thought you were bugging Becca. Naw, she doesn’t need me now, you do. I could never live with myself if I forsook you in your… Forsook? There’s no such word, and believe me I could make the sacrifice if I thought…Perish the thought; were together "…for infinity and beyond." Ooohhh my God, I never should have bought the big screen TV. As much as I hated to, I covered my lover’s naked flesh, and called softly. "Yeah, come on in." A blonde head stuck her head around the door. "Hey mom," Sydnee Renée whispered, "you guys okay?" A closer look revealed our condition. "Oh, oops, I didn’t interrupt anything did I, sorry." I couldn’t help but smirk and grunt a little. "No baby, you didn’t. We’re finished----for now." My lover burrowed herself deeper into my embrace. Sydnee’s face simply glowed. "Way cool, you guys are okay now. Wait ‘til I tell Margie! This is so great!" I could feel my angel’s body vibrating---vibrating?---with a slight chuckle on top of me. The chuckle turned into all out hysteria. "I don’t see what’s so damn funny here? Most teenagers are embarrassed by their parents having sex; not our kid. She wears it like a badge of honor. We are never going to hear the end of this, and all you can do is lie there and laugh your guts out." Watching Becca laugh, I tried to remember when we had anything to laugh about, much less so hysterically. Soon, I too was joining my angel on the bed enjoying the joke, on us, which would soon make the rounds of our friends and families and undoubtedly at the trauma center too. Oh what the hell; they say laughter’s good for the soul. And sure enough, in short order Margie came stomping down the hall, kettle in hand pounding away in celebra-tion.

There was no polite knock on the door; our housekeeper just barged right on in. "Well I hear congrats are in order. All I can say is ‘bout damn time! Now get your naked butts out of bed and get cleaned up." I could hear Syd snickering behind the door. "Syd, get in here and get this breakfast tray. Go to all the trouble of fixing meals ‘round here, and nobody even has the decency to eat it. You two still in bed? C’mon get moving; we don’t have all day; folks will be coming for the celebration. You don’t want to still be in bed when Harley gets here do ya. Then there’s Irish, the Flannery’s. I could go on." Oh God, I would pay good money to see the look on ol’ Neanderthal Flannery’s face if he saw two women in bed, particularly you. Hot damnm Whoo Haa! Heh, heh, heh, ha, ha. I think I’d even pitch in with a few bucks for that. Becca caught my little voice’s and my private joke. "Now what are you laughing about?" My chuckles became all out laughter. "Oh, I was just thinking it might be worth it to see Doug’s face." That comment got a pillow upside my head. Of course I had to retaliate, and soon pillows and bodies were flying all over the room. Our no nonsense, cook brought an end to our fun. "Do I have to come in there?" Becca and I looked at each other, and shouted simultaneously, "NO MA’AM!" I helped my angel up off the floor. "We better get going, or were going to have Margie see more of us than we’d like."

We both did a quick clean up, each agreeing to stay on our own end of the double shower. Oh, but that was so hard to do. Becca’s body was a work of art: her generous breasts were round and firm. She had large nipples and aereolas just made for pleasure. Her magnificent flat well-muscled abs and thighs felt so good against my heated skin, and the neatly trimmed bush of jet-black pubic hair covering her sex held delights to numerous to mention. Her raven hair had nearly grown back to its original length; now reaching just below her shoulders. Damn, now I need a cold shower. My only consolation was that I caught my baby’s eyes straying to admire my shorter, compactly muscled body as well. As I walked past my baby, I reached out and caressed her firm delicious ass. Did I mention how I love to lean over the round, smooth globes to grind my… A wet washcloth brought me back from my fantasy. "Knock it off, ya lech ya." Great now she’s sounding like Irish. "Oohh all right."

I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a cup of Margie’s excellent coffee, and went on through to the solarium. I stood at the glass doors, and watched. Sydnee and Ange, her best bud, were out by the pool playing with Nip and Tuck, our two Rottweilers. They were tossing a softball back and forth, and occasionally throwing a long one for their two canine outfielders. Ange let fly with a hefty throw, sending the two hairy beasts splashing head long into the swimming pool. "Oh great Ange, now were in deep shit. I know why we keep you on the pitcher’s mound, you can’t throw worth a damn." The two teenagers chased after the two mutts who showed no signs of wanting to leave their watery playground any time soon. "Hey it ain’t my fault ya can’t jump any higher than that. You let the ball go sailing over your head. ‘Sides what’s the big deal; we’ll get them out. Your folks are cool; they won’t get mad." Syd looked at Ange, like she didn’t have a clue, which she didn’t. "What?" She just doesn’t understand. With some people you have to draw pictures. "It isn’t my parents we have to worry about!"

And as if on cue, Margie came screaming out of the house, slapped me in the back of the head with the newspaper, and yelled. "Are you just going to sit there and let those to furballs contaminate the swimming pool? You’re a doctor for God’s sake; you should know better." Once she was finished verbally chastising me, she rounded on the kids. "Sydnee Marie McGregor, Angela O’Toole Flannery, you get those flea bitten mongrels out of that pool this instant. You know better than that." The kids tried to pull the dogs out of the pool, but only succeeded in falling in themselves, which created even more chaos. The girls and the aquatic canines were having the time of their lives, while Margie was having a stroke. "Ange, Syd, get those dogs and yourselves out of that pool now!"

It was at this point that my angel entered the fray from around the corner of the house. She observed the raucous goings on and simply shook her head. "Stacey Lynn, you’re being mean; c’mon help Margie out here." Yeah, unless you want nothing but bread and water for the next month, you’d better stop this debacle. Oh! Today’s my birthday; I can spend it anyway I want, and this is too fun. Well, if you want to live to see another birthday, you’d better do something. Ol’ Marge is fixin’ to come after you next. Oh shit. Quickly, I put my index fingers to the corners of my mouth and gave one shrill whistle. Instantly, the chaos ended, and the dogs scrambled up out of the pool; the backyard now was deafeningly quiet. My mischievous mutts, never ones to miss an opportunity to piss Margie off, stopped next to her and shook their water soaked coats furiously. The resulting spray drenched the fuming woman. That otta cool the ol’ gal off. It’s a wonder she doesn’t have steam coming off her body. I was trying really hard not to laugh ‘cause I knew Margie would fail to see the humor in this whole situation. But after Becca and I had our pillow fight and a good laugh this morning, it was as though the floodgates had been opened. There had been so little laughter in our home for the last six months that it just felt too good to pass up. Consequences be damned, I just busted out in uproarious bellylaughs. I was the only one laughing, and the girls looked at each other as though I had taken leave of my senses. My angel wasn’t any surer of my sanity either, especially when Margie glared at me. They say laughter is contagious. It wasn’t long before Margie began with a grunt, then a snigger, which led to several chuckles, and then finally the yard was filled with life giving merriment. This was the one thing that had been missing, and the one thing we needed so badly to completely recover from the pain. I’d even put up with a party partially in my honor if it made my Becca happy. The conversation we had about the party was pretty one-sided…

"I don’t see why we have to turn our birthdays into a damn circus. Besides, your birthday has already been and gone, and mine isn’t for another month." My wife hadn’t been in a very good mood for a very long time. I knew suggesting a party to celebrate our birthdays wouldn’t be a very popular idea.

"Stace, baby please. We haven’t had a chance to celebrate much of anything for these past few months. We could make this a dual celebration: our birthdays, and my recovery. What do you say, please?" The last please was punctuated by a nibble and lick strategically placed on my Stace’s earlobe and neck. She was putty in my hands.

"Well---I---sup—pose---we could…" I continued my assault on Stace’s neck and throat, at last fastening on the pulse point sucking and licking softly. Finally, Stace pushed me away to arm's length. "All right, but promise me you won’t let this get out of hand." Yes!!

"Of course sweetheart…" I purred as I snuggled deeper into my wife’s embrace. You are an evil woman Recca Marie. Little voice, you have no idea. Poor Stace, I almost feel sorry for ya smartass.

I had my go ahead, now all I had to do was get the troops organized. I only had a month, but I knew Mom and Dad would help. Mom could help me get the guest list and activities lined out, and Harley could keep Stace out of the way. They loved to play golf, so between that and my baby’s schedule at the Trauma Center, I’d be free and clear to work my magic. Hot damn!! It’s time to paarr--ttaayy!! I patted my baby’s belly as we snuggled on the couch watching the sun slide down into the sea. "…it’ll just be family and a few close friends, no sweat." My lover in a near sleeping state murmured. "Uh huh."

Chapter 3: Strategy

The first thing I did was call Mom and invited she and Dad to lunch. Since dad had retired, they moved up to Santa Barbara. They had a beautiful home overlooking the sea, and mom took up painting again, and dad had a huge shop where he could work on his Harley motorcycles. As he said, he was in ‘hog heaven’. We met at ‘Bernie’s Place’ a trendy restaurant on the Pacific Coast Highway near Ventura. It was a beautiful dive, and although it took a while, I finally was able to drive the highway without having a panic attack involving my accident. That was another thing Stace was insistent, some would say callus, cruel, and cold about, but it was an essential part of my recovery, in order for me to completely put all of this behind me. I knew she was right, but there were some agonizing fights, tears and shouting before I finally had the courage to take Stace’s Blazer on my first ‘solo drive’ up the coast.

Mom and Dad and I drove into the parking lot at the same time. We hugged and kissed each other hello. I must say, if Harley weren’t my father, and I decided to bat for the other team, he would be quite a catch. Even at sixty-nine, Harley was still a handsome, robust man in excellent shape. There were days, he put his daughter and daughter-in-law to shame. He maintained his old marine exercise regiment, lifted weights, and jogged five miles everyday. His doctor told him he’s in better shape than a lot of men in their forties. This little piece of info made him insufferable to live with for weeks. Mother took really good care of herself too, and at the same age as Dad, she too was in really good shape, and still turned quite a few heads, much to Dad’s chagrin. Her silver streaked black hair, brilliant green eyes, and terrific body made her quite a catch as well. And when they both got all dressed up for a night on the town, WOW!! Mom’s only concession to age was a little arthritis in her hands, noticeable only on chilly mornings, or when the weather was damp and windy.

"Mom, Dad you both look wonderful. I’ve missed you so much. It’s been too long." My parents suffered through my accident and rehabilitation right along with us, and I’m not sure Stace or I would have made it through without them.

"Oh Rebecca Marie look at you! Harley look, her hair has almost grown all the way out. And you’re skin is so tanned and healthy looking. I’m so glad. We’ve been so worried about you. Now look at you; it’s simply amazing! Don’t you think so hon?"

"You bet sweetheart. Our little girl is still the beauty she’s always been." Dad lifted me up in his strong muscled arms and twirled me around just as he did when I was a child.

"Dad please set me down, you’ll hurt yourself! C’mon let’s go in; Bernie is expecting us. He can’t wait to see you." Dad wasn’t really happy at that remark.

"Yeah, I’ll just bet he can’t wait to see Angie. That old fool says one wrong word, or makes one wrong move on my Angelic, and I’ll deck him." Dad’s one fault was his possessive attitude toward Mom and other men’s unwanted advances. Of course, I could sympathize with Mom, and identify with Dad. I had the same problem with my lover. Stace could be really over protective and at the same time totally oblivious to other women coming on to her. The situation was maddening at times. I tried my best to reassure him.

"Dad really, he’s just being polite and friendly. It goes along with his business." Dad still looked unconvinced.

"Yeah but what kind of business does he have in mind? Huh?" Mom slapped him playfully.

"Oh Harley, Bernie Lowenstern isn’t the least bit interested in me. And even if he were, I’ve already been taken. A handsome marine has always had me, and always will have; I’m yours you know. I---love—you." Mom affirmed the statement with a sweet kiss. Once inside the restaurant, Bernie rushed to greet us warmly.

"Ah Rebecca Marie it is so good to see you. You are looking wonderful. And who is this delightful creature, your sister?" I didn’t know Jewish folks were so full of the blarney. I thought that was Irish’s deal. What are you doing here, I thought you were Stace’s headache. Don’t matter, its all family. Well, I hate to agree with ya but you’re right. Mother blushed bright red from embarrassment; Dad was red for quite another reason. I touched his arm gently.

"Dad, please. He’s harmless. Don’t create a scene," I whispered. The tension slowly dissipated from Harley’s arm.

"Okay, but you’re gonna owe big time for not bustin’ his head like a melon." I couldn’t believe this was my father talking.

"Dad! That’s a terrible thing to want to do to such a kindly, gentle man." Way ta go ‘jarine’. Now ya pissed off Becca. Better ‘pologize right quick.

"I’m sorry baby, this kinda stuff makes me crazy is all." I kissed Dad on the cheek and took his arm in mine, and whispered. "I know."

Bernie personally led us to the table reserved, on the verandah, especially for Stace and I, and our guests, at all times. We had discovered Bernie’s not long after he had opened his restaurant, some eight years earlier, in part because Stace was searching for a new seafood place, and because we enjoyed eating outside where we could watch the sunset over the ocean. A couple of years later, Bernie’s little grand baby developed a congenital heart defect, and of course, Stace performed the operation that saved the little child’s life. In gratitude, the widower said we, and our guests, could eat here forever free of charge. Stace absolutely vetoed that idea. So a compromise of sorts was reached. Bernie kept a table just for us so whenever we came in we could eat outside and be near the sea.

Over our lunch of shrimp scampi, lobster tail, and crab legs, I told my parents what I had in mind to celebrate Stace’s birthday. Of course Mom was all for it, but Dad wasn’t as enthused.

"Baby don’t you think that’s a bit much. Stace isn’t that crazy about big parties; that’s in the first place, and in the second place, I didn’t think she was too happy about acknowledging her forty-ninth birthday." I brushed away his concerns; I could handle Stace. Careful there hon; don’t make promises you might not be able to deliver.

"You know darling, Harley has a point. Don’t you think with this many people, a barbecue, volleyball on the beach…I’m just worried it’ll be too much for you. You’re still not back to 100% yet, and…" I cut Mother off a little more forcefully than I had intended, and Dad didn’t miss that at all.

"Mother stop telling me what I can’t do; you’re just like…"

"Now listen here young lady! Don’t take that tone with your mother; I can still turn you over my knee. We’re just concerned about your health; you can’t blame us for that. We love you." Sometime I can be really bitchy. Yeah, ya been living with smartass too long. Don’t call her smartass; that’s my prerogative.

"I’m sorry I snapped at you, but I’ve been mothered and overprotected to death. Really, I’m fine and the greatest part is all the help I’ll have. Everyone from the trauma center will help, plus Margie is at home to direct the caterers, and even Syd has pledged her softball team will help. So, with all that help Mom, all you and I have to do is stand back and direct the troops. Cool huh?" Dad was still a hard sell.

"I noticed you mentioned everyone but me. What’s my part in all this? Or should I be afraid to ask?" Listen up jarine; you’re gonna love this.

"Dad you’re job is the most important, the most critical to the success of this whole thing." Harley could be called many things, but a fool wasn’t one of them. He could see a snow job a mile away.

"All right, how stupid do you think I am? Just spit it out; what do you want me to do?" Okay, no more beating around the bush.

"I want you to keep Stace occupied so she isn’t underfoot while we get thinks set up on the big day. You guys could go play golf. Take Gil and Gary with you; Tate and Robert will help with all the heavy stuff. She’ll need to be gone all day Saturday and Sunday morning." I waited for the inevitable explosion.

"If you think I’m gonna spend a whole god damn, friggin’ day and a half playin’ golf with that woman, you…besides are you sure the ‘Bobsie Twins’ can handle the heavy stuff?" Both Mother and I looked at Dad in shock.

"Dad, that’s mean; how can you say something like that?" Harley was usually sensitive to other people’s lifestyles especially since his daughter is gay.

"I’m sorry, Robert and Tate are great guys, I like them a lot and I have nothing against them or their lifestyle. I should not have said anything like that. I don’t know why—I---oh hell. The whole day? Okay, I guess it won’t kill me, and this time dammit, I’ll win." Only if smartass spots ya six strokes. Don’tcha know doctors major in golf?

"Oh thank’s Dad; and I know you didn’t mean that about Tate and Robert. Stace and I owe them so much. They were about the only PT’s Stace and I didn’t scare off. This celebration means so much to me, to us. I can never thank you, both of you, enough." I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I’ve been so emotion-al ever since the accident, but particularly lately. Well maybe you’re goin’ through…Don’t even say it, let me deal with one thing at a time please. God Stace’s right you can be such a pain in the ass.

"All right honey, what is the plan? Let’s have it all. Now that I think about it, this is going to be great fun. Don’t you think Harley?" Harley could only groan.

"Yeah a real riot. The whole damn day." I kissed Dad on the cheek and Mother and I got down to the planning.

"Okay, this is what I have in mind…"

Chapter 4: The Preparations

Finally the furor from the kids and the dogs play was brought under control. I could hear several sets of feet thumping and tapping on the brick walk leading around the corner of the house. Irish, Gil, Rachel, and Gary appeared carrying boxes and bags of food and decorations. Irish was the first to speak. "Isn’t it just like a damn Scotsman to start the party without us." Dr. Donnovon backed up the Irish nurse. "Ya got that right, Warren." Irish glared at Rachel. "That’s Nurse Warren to you, ya squirt." Rachel fired right back. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Rachel brushed Irish off. "The point is Becca; what’d we miss?" The playful bantering had been going on for nearly twenty-five years, ever since the doctor and nurse worked together at John Hopkins. My lover and I, and her staff, had ‘grown-up’ together professionally, spiritually, and emotionally, and now approaching middle age…what’d ya mean approaching; we are you know…we had come nearly full circle. We were more than just friends; we were family. Gives the term dysfunctional a whole new meaning, don’t it? Well, as much as I hate to admit it, you’re part of the ‘dysfunctional family’ too, you know. "Oh nothing, just

my wife, children, and house keeper loosing their collective minds." Becca you are too funny.

"What can I say, I’m just a fun loving kind of gal," Mac smirked. Irish just about choked.

"Mac I’ll be remindin’ ya of that wee fact the next time some poor sorrowful OR Tech hands ya the wrong instrument. We’ll just be seein’ how fun lovin’ ya are then won’t we now."

Irish didn’t often use the Irish brogue, but when she did it was usually for good effect. Stace had been known to traumatize an OR Tech, intern, or resident for a lot less. Sometimes my baby’s social skills left a great deal to be desired. But when it came to her patients, she expected all the staff, from housekeeping right on up to the top, to provide only the very best care possible. She would accept nothing less. My wife just made little "kissy face" noises directed at Irish, turned, stopped in front of me, wrapped me in her arms, gave me a terrific dip, and kissed me soundly; right in front of God and everybody. When we broke apart, she lifted me upright, turned on her heel and walked away.

"C’mon guys, let’s go for a run on the beach. We don’t have to put up with this b.s." Irish couldn’t resist a last minute dig.

"Sure, be off w’ya now. Go terrorize the small sea creatures why don’t ya?" The rest of us just shook our heads, and Stace shook her "booty", in a ‘kiss my ass’ sort of way, at us as she walked off.

I watched my lover jog down the path that led down to the beach, Nip and Tuck trotting along with her, one on each side. I reflected over the last six months how close we came to losing each other. We’d lost our way, and it nearly took destroying each other altogether to bring us back to our senses. God, I never want to come that close again. Looking at Stace now, it was clear we were getting our lives back in order. Stace still had a ways to go, and I could only hope she continued with the therapy. The joy was slowly returning to her eyes. When we made love this morning, her passion and desire for me was clear. That was something that had been missing for so long. She was so afraid she’d hurt me… We were both hurting so much we forgot the one thing that would heal us: our love, and all that that entailed: heat, lust, power, passion, and of course the sender softness I loved so much in my lover. I wanted all of it, and I knew Stace did to. I vowed that day on the balcony I get my wife and lover back. I didn’t think it would take this long, but it did, but it was so worth the struggle.

"Hey are you just gonna stand there gawking at the damn woman, or are you gonna help us with this stuff? I turned to see Irish standing legs akimbo with her hands on her hips with a threatening glare on her face. "No, no, I plan on helping, but one thing you should know." I got right in the shorter woman’s face. "That’s my woman you’re talking about so let’s be a little more respectful." That’s it Bec, don’t let that old woman get to ya. Watch it, that old woman is my friend. With one last glance down over the hill, I turned and walked off to join our friends. Gil asked the obvious.

"So what’s first? And how long will the birthday girl be gone?" Gil sat the burden he carried down on the table, and I filled him in on the plan.

"Okay, did you guys bring your golf clubs as I asked?" They nodded in the affirmative. "Good because Mother and Dad will be here shortly, and you and Dad are going to take Stace to the country club for the day. All you’ll have to do is play golf all day and keep Stace occupied. Nothing to it." Irish didn’t like the idea of all that muscle leaving for the whole day.

"Wait just a darned minute. Who’s gonna do all the fetchin’ and carryin’ with these two out playin’ around all day?" Rachel popped in with an explanation.

"Tate and Robert will be here to help with the heavy stuff." Irish had a lot in common with Harley; she was a hard sell too. Rachel cocked her head motioning Irish to follow her away from their husband’s hearing. The good doctor explained the advantages of Tate and Robert’s help in more graphic detail.

"Listen up Warren," Rachel whispered. "Two young virile, well-muscled, bodies clad only in skin tight Speedos. Two gorgeous hunks, hot and sweaty from exertion, flexing and straining under the heavy burdens we force them to carry." Rachel gave Irish a quick, sharp jab in the ribs and grinned lasciviously. "C’mon, think about it?" Mrs. Warren still didn’t get it. "But wait a minute; they’re gay." Jeez Irish you can be so thick sometimes. "That’s the whole point; we can come on to them and give ‘em a hard time, but it won’t mean anything. Think of it as a "Chippendale’s" performance." Light finally began to dawn on the nurse. "Oohh yeah, I get it now. But wait, what does fancy furniture have to do with this?" Oh God, Rachel just shook her head and the two women rejoined us by the table.

"I have to agree with Dr. Donnovon; it is far more beneficial for us if you keep an eye on Mac. You know, keep her out from under foot. We’ll muddle through with the two young lads." Twenty years of marriage had taught Gil a few things about the woman, and he was about to say something when Tate and Robert, and Mother and Dad came out of the house. I greeted Mom and Dad with hugs and kisses, and hugged the guys too.

"Where’s smart…short stuff?" Dad asked. He almost made his usual faux pas, but caught himself just in time. Mother slapped him in the belly.

"Stace and the dogs went for their run down on the beach. She should be back soon. Then you guys can all take off; in the meantime, let’s get all the decorations sorted so we can get things put up. Syd and Ange and the rest of the team are down on the beach, with Ange’s dad, getting the volleyball court all fixed up. Margie is getting the kitchen and dining area all set up for the caterers. Mom I thought you and I would go help her, and Irish, Rachel, Tate and Robert could work out here in the yard and by the pool. When the kids are finished down on the beach, they’ll come back up here and help us wherever we need them. All the guests will be here around seven for the barbecue and beach volleyball. Then tomorrow, Stace’s birthday, we’ll have the formal celebration. What’cha think? Sound like a plan?" Everyone just stood and stared at me like I had dirt all over my face.

"What?" My friends and family still looked like they were in shock. "Look it’s very simple really; someone has to organize the plan, and someone has to follow through and implement the plan. Uumm? So what d’ya think; shall we get to it?"The sound of barking dogs brought us up short. "C’mon, Stace is coming. I’ll get her in the house and in the shower. You guys get going with the decora-tions. When Stace is ready, Dad you and the guys can go." Harley tried one last time.

"Look it’s not like she doesn’t know what’s going’ on. Why can’t we just stay here and help you?" God you’d think I was asking Dad to go into battle. The way they play golf together, it is a battle.

"Dad please. If Stace stays here, she’ll just grump and groan about how much fuss we’re making over her birthday. Frankly, I’d rather not listen to her. So do me a favor and get her out of here. She’s here. Please?" C’mon ‘jarine’ aren’t you guys always first to hit the beach and all that? ‘Sides it’s for Becca, and with a cop and a navy seal, you’ll have smartass out numbered. Yeah that’s right. Hey this could be fun after all. Harley was suddenly more enthusiastic.

"Okay, sweetheart; I’ll do it. No problem." Becca did a double take at Harley’s sudden change of heart. Stace baby, you better watch your back.

I met my angel at the top of path leading into our back yard. God I never get tired of looking at her. Physically, what can I say, she’s a goddess, but she’s so much more. She’s full of courage and heart, patience and love. Her soul is pure and she’s open to everyone. Never a kinder, more compassionate person have I met, but at the same time never have I met anyone as passionate in her defense of family and friends. God help them if anyone tried to harm Syd or me in any way. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and knew the one thing I’d never have. I thank God everyday that I have her in my life. I love my angel so very much. We came together, and everyone around disappeared; there was only the two of us. I took my lover into my arms, and held her close to me savoring the connection I had missed so much over the past few months. I brought her head down to mine and kissed her gently at first, then the kiss intensified and became more passionate. I broke the kiss in favor of breath, and then began to plant hot wet kisses on her lips. Several of them in succession; I love sloppy wet kisses with my baby, especially with lots of tongue. Gods her mouth tastes so sweet. I reluctantly broke away for fear of letting my desire getting out of hand in front of her parents. I thought I’d try one last time to get her to forget about this sideshow and just go have a quiet family dinner at "Bernie’s Place".

"Darlin’ are you sure you want to go through with this thing? It’s an awfully lot of work, and I just…" My angel stopped me with another loving sensual kiss.

"Please baby I really want to do this, and all our family and friends want to celebrate your birthday and my recovery. Sweetheart they have some really special things planned. Can’t you just sit back and enjoy this, please honey, for me?" How could I say no? I promised that if God let my baby live, I would do anything to make her happy and keep her safe. Well it was time to make good on my vow.

"Whatever you want honey, you know if it is within my power to get for you, you will have it in a heartbeat. It’s just this is so much work…" Again I was stopped by my baby’s sweet lips. I could keep doing this all day.

"There really isn’t much work. Really about all Mom and I are doing is supervising; you know how good I am at that. And in addition providing a place to have the party. See no biggie. Now go get your shower, and go play golf. Harley and the guys are waiting." Like I can’t wait to go spend the day with Harley. C’mon, he can’t be all bad; he helped make Becca. You’re right. Aren’t I always? No!

"Well, I guess I could play eighteen holes, but I am not loaning him any of my clubs if he throws his in the lake again. And that’s final!"

Chapter 5: It’s Only Eighteen Holes…

The Malibu Golf and Country Club is a far cry from Bannock Municiple Golf Course isn’t it. I’ve never been terribly comfortable rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, and there are a lot of rich and famous that frequents this course. Hey what are you talking about? Now you are the rich and famous; deal with it. And look at it this way, the layout here otta have the ol’ man rolling in his grave, huh?

"Okay sm…short stuff. How are we gonna work this?" Harley was just looking to push my buttons.

"Why Sheriff Danforth, I don’t have the slightest idea what you are talking about?" Heh, that should start something.

"All right smartass, the gloves are off. We’ll play straight up, hole for hole. Don’t be given me any stroke advantage!" Gotcha Harley, now I’m gonna wipe this course up with your sorry carcass. But…one thing.

"If that’s what you want, but I’ll tee off from the white box too. I don’t want you saying I had any edge whatsoever." Harley’s face dropped; that was his only out.

"Wait a minute; are you saying I cry over a few extra yards?" Damn straight.

"In a heartbeat Harley, in a heartbeat." Harley was certainly no quitter.

"Deal." Harley extended his hand, which I shook, "Deal." We looked at the two men standing next to us shaking their heads.

"Okay, Navy and Marines against Cop and Doc. Anybody got any complaints?" Everyone shook their heads, and we each got in our carts and headed for the first tee.

"Mac, are you nuts. If you play straight up with him, even at his age, he’ll murder you. You haven’t got a snowball’s chance in hell. You’ll never hear the end of this." Gil was right, but what I lost in distance, to Harley, I gained in accuracy.

"Don’t worry yourself. Harley tries to kill the ball. When he does, his ball ends up all over the course: sand, rough, water, everywhere but where it’s supposed to be. I, one the other hand, meet the ball properly generating the proper club head speed, which gives me power, and accuracy. My ball doesn’t go sightseeing all over the course. Hey this is a done deal, not a problem." Gil was still dubious.

"I don’t know…"

The first tee was an elevated 4-par hole with a dogleg to the left. There were lots of trees on both sides, and sand traps guarding the green, not to mention a water hazard bisecting the fairway. Harley and Gary were teed up first. Gary hit a nice shot to the right side of the fairway about 225 yards away. True to form, Harley tried to kill his hapless golf ball and ended up in the trees on the left side of the fairway. He was in a descent enough lie, but still a long way from the green.

"Gee tough luck, there, Sheriff." I couldn’t help but give Harley a little dig. Gil went next and landed in the short rough on the right about 215 yards out. My turn. I teed up my ball and took a couple practice swings. All I hand to do was slow down and follow through. I hit a perfect shot right down the middle of the fairway, in just the right position for a 3 wood for my second shot. My playing partners congratulated me on a good shot; well at least two of them.

"Whoa, great shot Mac, really good. Don’t ya think Harley?" Harley grumbled as he drove off to find his ball

"Yeah, yeah…this is only the first hole. Don’t count your chickens." That’s for sure; it’s gonna be a long day at this rate. Oh I don’t know; I’m kinda having fun. I wouldn’t be having so much fun if I knew what was going on at home.

"C’mon on Syd, we’re not gonna get this done if we don’t hurry up." Syd was looking up toward the hill to the north.

"Syd have you heard anything…whatcha looking at up there."

"I thought I saw some guy up there watching us."

"Where, I don’t see nothin’." Syd looked again, but could see no one.

"Must be seein’ things; c’mon let’s go." That would have been a good idea but for the lone figure hidden in the brush watching the going’s on down on the beach intently.

"In just a little while little girl, you’ll be mine…don’t you worry."

Chapter 6: Back on the Links

Harley’s day was going from bad to worse. His score looked more like a basketball score than a golf score. Harley’s mood was due, in large part, to six bogies on the front nine and compared to my six birdies. Even if he played ‘lights out’, he’d never better my score on the back nine. The only thing that made his day bearable was the fact that Gil played just as poorly as he did. So between the two twosomes, the day was a draw. But what really irritated Harley, to my credit, I might point out, I didn’t rub his nose in his poor play, which I quite easily could have. Harley’s dour mood was obvious and he glared at me over the rim of his glass.

"You’re not gonna say nothin’ are ya smartass?" I looked at him with a smirk on my face.

"Just what do you want me to say?" You’re playing with fire smartass.

"Well every other time we’ve played and won, I’ve rubbed it in your face. You mean you’re just gonna sit there, and miss your chance to let me have it?" Oh this is my angel’s dad; I can do this. You’re really not gonna let him have it; oh where have I gone wrong? Oh go away; harass someone else.

"Harley, today is my birthday, but more importantly, Becca is healthy and whole again. That is really worth celebrating. Don’tcha think we can call a truce

for just one day?" I could have imagined any of a number of reactions Harley might have had to my question, but the one I received was remarkable. Harley took me in his big burly arms and gave me a huge bear hug that nearly forced the wind from my lungs.

"I wanted so many things for my Rebecca, but more than anything, I wanted her to find someone she could love and make her happy for a lifetime. It never occurred to me, she might be gay. I couldn’t imagine how I would react to such a thing. I admit I wasn’t thrilled with the news…well duh…but I could never ask for anyone to love or cherish her more, than the way you do. You’ve given her everything she’s ever wanted or needed. Oh you’re far from perfect…ain’t that the truth…in fact you can be a royal pain in the ass, sometime, but you’re also a respected member of the community, and you’ve accomplished great things in your life without a lot of help. You’ve given me the most remarkable grand daughter a man could hope for. Angie and I have been very blessed in our lives, and mostly because of you. I just want you to know I’m very proud to call you my daughter." I was absolutely stunned. In the thirty odd years I’ve known this man, those were the most words he had ever spoken to me. I was flabbergasted; I simply didn’t know what to say.

"Thanks Harley. Y’know, if I could have chosen my father, I’d have picked you. For the longest time, while Becca and I were growing up, I was really jealous of her. Not for all the things she had, but because of the relationship she had with you…something I never…Anyway, you’re wrong about one thing. I didn’t succeed on my own; I had help; I had Becca." Harley took my hand and squeezed it gently.

"Yeah, I know; we all did. Thank the Good Lord. Now lets go see what trouble we can cause back at your place."

We all walked out of the "19^th hole" and loaded the carts on my double cart trailer, and headed for home. I noticed how quiet Gil and Gary were being.

"What’s the matter with you two?" The two men looked at each other and back at Harley and me before Gil finally spoke.

"It just hit me how much all our lives are intertwined with each other. I mean we are all about the same age." Harley grunted.

"Okay present company excepted. We worked together, we socialize together." This time I grunted.

"All right some of us socialize. The point is we spend so much time together and yet we still get along." Both Harley and I grunted together.

"Will you two knock it off? Dammit, we’re a family, blood not with- standing." I threw my arms around both Gil and Gary’s shoulders and moved toward the Blazer.

"You’re right guys; it really is amazing isn’t it?" And one person brought us together: my angel. "You comin’ Harley?’ The ex-sheriff/marine shook his head and followed along.

"Yeah smartass, I’m right behind you like always, coverin’ your butt." I glared back at him.

"Ya just couldn’t let it lie could you?" Harley just shrugged and climbed in the Blazer.

Chapter 7: The Celebration

We arrived back at the house just in time to see the catering trucks leave. For this evening’s bash, the caterers brought the meat, salads, and such for the barbecue. It was up to Harley, chef’s hat and all, to be in charge of actually barbecuing the steaks, chickens, hot dogs, and hamburgers. A job he thoroughly

enjoyed, and at which he was quite good. The perishables were packed in dry ice in large coolers and taken to the beach for the party. Long tables were set up to hold all the various foodstuffs that would comprise our meal.

Gus Garcia had provided all the ice cream and Doug Flannery had provided the soda. Bernie Lowenstern’s Catering brought all the rest. It would be just like Harley to keep one eye on his barbecue, and the other on Bernie to make sure he wouldn’t make any unwanted advances to Angie. Our respective spouses greeted the four of us with hugs and kisses.

"Well does Tiger Woods have anything to worry about from any of you?" My angel inquired.

"Hardly," I deadpanned, "although "Chip and Dale" may have to move if Harley keeps playing in the trees and threatening their homes." Becca slapped me upside the head.

"Don’t start. We don’t need you two going off on each other. Dad don’t you think you should head down to the beach and see that your domain is all set up to your satisfaction?" Harley begrudgingly started off down the path to the beach. Angie linked her arm in his, kissed him on the cheek, and led him along.

"Isn’t that cute?" I could think of many ways to describe Harley, but cute wasn’t one of them. My baby continued. "Do you think we will be like them in twenty years?" My baby looked at me with pools of cobalt.

"Baby, no offense, but you want me to be like Harley? No way." My lover slapped me playfully in the belly. "Ow. That hurt."

"What I meant is will we still be that much in love?" My answer seriously shocked my angel.

"No," I simply said. I held up my hand to forestall any verbal backlash. "Before you go off on me, I mean no, no one can or ever will be in love as deeply as you and I are." Our lips met in a sensual tender kiss. But the sweet moment was short lived when Margie and Irish came out of the house. Margie was banging loudly on her canning kettle and Irish blaring away on a "bull horn".

"All right everybody listen up cause I ain’t gonna repeat thing again. Everyone down to the beach; it’s time for the party to begin. Tate and Robert, do your thing." On cue, Tate and Robert appeared followed by four other big, burly EMTs from the trauma center. They carried a double chair litter, and stopped in front of Becca and me.

"What the hell’s this?" Tate and Robert looked to Irish and Margie for backup.

"With all that fancy education, you can tell what a chair looks like?" I glared at Margie.

"I can see it’s a chair, but what’s it for?" I already knew the answer, but I was hoping I was wrong.

"That’s how you and mother are getting down to the beach," Sydnee chimed in. "Ange and I thought it up. Tate and Robert and the rest of the guys are gonna carry you down to the beach. Just like in Ancient Greece. Cool huh?"

"Sure ‘nough, it’s for our Amazon Queen and her Consort. As Guests of Honor, you will be carried to the beach in style. Just hop in the chair, your carriage awaits your majesties." Irish snorted. "Oh, here’s your crown." Being carried to the beach was one thing, but wearing a damned crown was altogether something again; that was going too far.

"The hell I will!" Becca dissolved my ire with just one word, and a well placed kiss below my ear, a particularly sensitive spot.

"Please?" My baby batted her eyelashes, as well, for good effect.

"Oohh, okay." You are sooo whipped y’know.

Tate, Robert, and the boys easily lifted Becca and I in our strange convey-ance and off we went with the entourage following behind. Irish, Rachel, and the rest of the party conspirators had lit torches and a big bonfire was also blazing brightly designed to light up the beach and surrounding area. Fortunately, Southern California was experiencing an Indian Summer, so the late September night was still quite warm and people cavorted around in shorts or swimming suits.

Once the guests of honor arrived, it didn’t take long for the real festivities to begin in earnest. One thing about our friends and family, the least little excuse was good enough to have a party; so this one would go on well into the wee hours of the morning. Becca and I were carried up several steps to a dais where two "throne lounge chairs" were placed in prominent view for the Queen’s worship-ping subjects. We were instructed to sit and each of us was given a ceremonial drink. Mine was Corona; Becca’s was a Margarita. Next Rachel climbed the few steps rather unsteadily. Obviously she had already tasted the ceremonial drink, frequently. With slightly slurred speech, she began.

"Ladies and gen—tle—mens--men, if--if we have any of th--em, fam—am--ily and fri--ends. We are gath—gath--ered here this eve--ning to cele—cele--brate the birthday of our illus—illus--trious Queen and her Con—con--sort. That means M--ac and Bec—ec--ca, if ya—if ya--didn’t already know." Thunderous applause, raucous shouts, along with loud laughter erupted from the crowd of revelers. Rachel tried to speak again, but couldn’t be heard over the noise the crowd was making. Irish ambled up onto the stage, raised her arms, and shouted. Her booming voice carried like thunder over the beach.

"All right, ya bums ya; shut your gabs or I’ll cuff ya all." Instantly the crowd was quiet…Sis Liz would be proud…as Rachel began again.

"Tha—nk y-ou Nur—ur-se Raf—af-erty. As I was say—ing, we are hear to hon-onor two people who have been ve—ry im—por—or--tant part in our—in our—li-ves. There is one per—per—son here who kn--nows them better than any of us. Syd—nee Syd---uh Syd come on up here and do—do your th—ing." Again the crowd went nuts, and Syd did her best to get the rowdy bunch in line.

"Please, please." Poor Syd; she could no more be heard than she could fly. But undaunted, she persisted. She grabbed Irish’s bull horn and blasted away. "Listen up you guys!" Silence reigned. Cool. "I want to thank all of you for coming tonight to celebrate my mom’s birthday and mother’s wellness. As all of you know, it has been a really tough time for all of us the past few months, but we’ve made it through, and we’ve stayed together. I believe the three of us can do anything as long as we stay together." Damn I will not cry, I won’t. Aahh go ahead, you won’t be alone. I looked over at my angel and saw the tears running down her cheeks. I threaded our fingers together and raised our joined hands to my lips and kissed her knuckles tenderly as Syd continued. "I just wanted to say how proud I am to have two mothers." The kid’s pretty cool, huh? "Our home is filled with love, and I have never once been afraid to bring my friends home cause I was ashamed to have people know my parents are gay. We are a family, and that’s the most important thing in the world." Are you sure Syd is yours; she way too smart for that. "I know there might be some of you, even though you are our friends, who don’t understand my parent’s lifestyle. Sometimes, I don’t under-stand it either." Hey, check out the ‘jarine’; I think he’s crying too. "But they taught me to be tolerant of other people’s differences and I have no right to judge them." Hey look at old Flannery; he’s either got ants in his pants, or Syd just hit the ol’ bulls eye. "This may sound kinda corny, but they follow the "golden rule" y’know? Anyway that’s what they taught me." There was a smattering of throat clearing throughout the crowd.

"I wanted to get my moms something cool for this celebration, but they really don’t need any more stuff. Mom told me once that I didn’t need to spend money, but something I made would mean more to them than anything else. So…" At the right moment, Tate and Robert carried a covered object up to the dais. "…Mom, mother this is for both of you. I did have to spend a little of my money, but I got a really good deal. I hope you like it." Sydnee nodded and Tate pulled the cover from the object. As the cover was removed, a portrait of Sydnee on a lawn chair with Nip and Tuck sitting on either side of her was revealed. A collective gasp filled the air, and Sydnee’s parents were both in tears. "Do you like it; ya don’t think it’s too conceited of me to give you my picture." Both of us literally mugged our daughter. "No baby, we love it very much, and we love you too; this is wonderful."

Everybody crowded around the three women, congratulating them. Sydnee still seemed a little unsure, so I took my little girl in my arms and held her tightly, and tried to reassure her. "Hey, listen sweetheart, this is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever given me. Believe me, okay? Now let’s grab your mother and go see how your grandfather is doing with the steaks and stuff; I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry." I worked my way through the crowd and took hold of Becca’s hand. "We’re gonna go get something to eat, care to join us." Becca wrapped her arms around both of us and dragged us along. "Absolutely!" Becca towered over both of us. "Hey I kinda like this; two women to look up to me. This is way cool."

Syd and I looked at each other, and I waggled my eyebrows mischievously. "Ya ready kid?" Syd nodded enthusiastically. "You bet Mom." With perfect timing we both picked Becca up and ran to the surf and unceremoniously dumped my wife into the sea. My angel didn’t look much like an angel as she came boiling up out of the water sputtering and spitting. "You both are toast. I will get you if it is the last thing I do. You had best start running now." Syd and I looked at each other and ran. "Split up," I yelled, "at least one of us will get away." I knew my lover would come after me and leave Syd alone. I ran as fast as I could, my early morning runs in the sand kept me in good shape, but exercise cannot make up for what I lacked in physical attributes. Becca’s long legs literally chewed up the beach, and she was closing the distance between us rapidly. "You are soo in trouble you know that don’t you? When I catch you, you will be very sorry you started this whole thing." And catch me she did. "Now listen honey, before you do something you will regret, think first. Think about how this will make you feel." My baby wasn’t buying this. "Think about how miserable you’ll be if I catch cold. How miserable everyone will be when I catch cold. You know how I am when I get sick." You are such a rotten human being y’know that? Yeah, but it works. Sometimes having really rotten social skills is a very good thing; Becca stopped short. "I’m all wet y’know and it’s your fault. You should be willing to do something to help me out." An arched eyebrow disappeared into a black hairline. Oh boy this is going to be fun. "What did you have in mind?" I croaked.

My angel stepped close to me her wet T-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. I couldn’t resist and I encircled her hard erect nipple in my lips. Softly, I took the nipple between my teeth and bit down lightly pulling the puckered nub into my mouth and sucking like a newborn babe, the taste of the seawater assaulting my senses. But this wasn’t enough I had to see and touch my angel’s beautiful breasts. "I need to see you baby, please strip for me. I wanna look at you." My baby stepped back, and directed me to sit on a nearby rock. "Watch me lover; don’t take your eyes off my body for a second." Like I could. As my lover took off her clothes, she told me exactly what she was going to do to me and for me. Slowly, she peeled her wet T-shirt up her abs, driving me crazy in anticipation. "Look at me baby. You love my breasts don’t you." The shirt came up over her head, and was tossed casually to the side. She lifted her tits displaying them to me, playing with them and making the nipples harden. "You want to be doing this don’t you? You want to be squeezing my luscious globes, running your tongue over my nipples." Having said that, my baby lifted her breast and reached out with her long pink tongue and licked her own hard erect nipple." She moaned sensually as she ran her tongue around the dark brown areola pebbling from her ministrations.

My audible groan let her know how much I was enjoying her strip. Sensing my growing need, Becca unfastened the button and zipper on her shorts, and let them glide slowly down her long tanned legs. She stepped out of them, and lifted her foot to a nearby rock. This position gave me an unobstructed view of my baby’s beautiful bush and her pink, puffy nether lips. Suddenly my mouth had gone very dry, and I couldn’t swallow to save my soul. My lover trailed her hand slowly down over her tight abs until she reached the soft curly hairs I wanted so much to bury my face in. It was as though she could read my mind. "This is want you want isn’t it baby? Watch me baby. These are your fingers stroking me, touching me, loving me." Long slender fingers continued to run the length of my baby’s sex. She separated her swollen lips, and dipped her fingers deep inside her love hole. Her moans were almost constant now. She slowly dragged her fingers inside herself, and then over her sopping wet mons. She brought her fingers shining with her juices to her mouth and began to thoroughly lick them clean. "Mmmmm, I love the way I taste; you love the tatse of my cum don’t you baby? Would you like a taste? Hmmm? Come her lover, come to me and taste me. I want your mouth on me, please. Make me cum with your mouth."

I didn’t have to be asked twice. I literally crawled over to where my angel’s luscious body was waiting, and without preamble, I drove my tongue deep into my lover’s steaming core. I feasted like someone dying of thirst. I ran my tongue from my baby’s ass to her clit, nipping and biting her fleshy lips. Becca’s moans were constant, as my attentions became more intense. "Oh shit Stace, yes! God I love it when you eat me. Please baby; I don’t want gentle tonight; I want hot rough sex." With that admission, I ran the flat of my tongue the length of my baby’s cunt. "Oh yeah, do it please. Lick my cunt, suck my click, oh I’m gonna cum. Have to lie down. Oh it feels so good. Your tongue feels so good on my hot pussy." I loved to hear my baby talk dirty. It encouraged me too. "Yes angel; God you taste so good. I love it when you cum in my mouth. I love your taste; I love your juices sliding down my throat. C’mon baby cum for me." I had to have my baby. I began driving my tongue, deep inside her velvet, warm, wet core. I used my hands on her sweet firm ass driving my baby’s hips into my face while my tongue set up a strong steady rhythm. "Shit, Stace, I’m so close. Don’t stop loving me. God you feel so good inside me. I gotta lie down, legs can’t hold me." Slowly, I lowered my lover onto the sand, while I continued to ravage her beautiful sex. I could feel my angel’s muscles tightening down on my tongue, so I removed my wet oral muscle and inserted three fingers deep into Becca’s creamy wet pussy, and began sucking and nibbling her large erect hard clit. I drove steadily in and out of my baby’s sex. I lowered my wet center onto Becca firm hard thigh and began grinding myself up and down, smearing my juices all along her thigh. "Oh yeah baby, this feels so good. I want us to cum together baby. While I had my lover, I watched her gorgeous face. Her wet hair was in wild disarray, and her lips were parted as she tried to pull large amounts of air into her lungs. Her fingers dug into the sand on either side of her body. She was so hot, so fierce. She couldn’t take anymore, and screamed out my name as she came. "Oh God, Oh fuck, shit, baby I’m cummmiinngg! Stace!! God Yes!!" My lover’s climax forced my own to overtake my body as well and I crumpled off to the side of my angel.

My angel’s body collapsed against the sand and stayed very still. She stayed still for so long, I thought I’d hurt her. I crawled along side her and whispered in her ear. "Becca, are you okay, sweetheart did I hurt you, honey please talk to me." After long moments, cerulean pools opened, and tears leaked slowly down my wife’s checks. I reached up and cupped her face in my palm, and she leaned into the touch rubbing her cheek lovingly into my hand. She turned her face and kissed my palm reverently. "I love you so very much," she whispered, and the tears threatening to fall down my face could not be stopped. I still had to be sure I didn’t hurt her. "I—I---didn’t hurt you did I? I don’t ever want to hurt you ever again. I love you; you are my world." My baby reassured me. "You didn’t hurt me, you never have. Everything you’ve ever done has been out of love." I took my angel into my arms, and we held each other. We lay there looking at the stars and listening to the surf pounding rhythmically on the shore. "Baby, we need to get back to our guests." Says who? "It’s my birthday, I can do what I want, and I want to stay here." Becca drew lazy circles around my left nipple. "Well technically it isn’t. It’s after midnight." Damn, I just can’t win. Oh I don’t know, I’d said you’re a winner. Look who’s lying on you? Point duly taken. "Okay, you’re probably right. And now that you mention it, I do have sand in places sand shouldn’t really be. Let’s go."

We brushed the sand off each other’s bodies, which almost led to another go round in the sand, but restraint won out. We shook out our clothes, got dressed and walked hand in hand back to the party. As I thought, our friends were still partying down on the beach. We sat down on a couple of chairs and drank a Corona and watched an impromptu volleyball game. Syd and Ange were holding down one side, while Rachel and Irish were on the other. Margie was cheering for both teams. Syd wasn’t very tall, but what she lacked in stature, she made up for in sheer determination and a great vertical leap. The ball came careening over my head, and Syd retrieved it and threw it back to her teammate. She sat down in my lap, and took a swig of my beer. "Yuck, how can you drink this stuff?" Hopefully my little girl will never get to like the taste of beer. "It’s an acquired taste." She shook her head. "How come you’ve got sand in your hair?" She smirked. "Listen young lady, you best mind your manners. I don’t have to tell you everything." The smirk turned into an all out gut rolling laugh. "Mom, really. I’m not as much of a dumb kid as you think." She seemed just a bit insulted. "Baby, I know you’re a lot of things, a dumb kid isn’t one of them; sometimes you’re too smart for your own good." I couldn’t resist the urge to tickle my daughter a little, and before long I had her laughing hysterically. "Hey Syd, c’mon I’m gettin’ killed here," Ange shouted, and in a flash our little blonde sprite was up and gone. "Sand in my hair huh? Wanna go help me wash it out?" I arched my eyebrows and wiggled them suggestively. "You’re on baby!"

I barely got out of the shower when I heard the doorbell ring. Who the hell is coming here at 2:00am? Probably the cops to stop this orgy. Well if anyone gets arrested, I’m having the cops take you too. Remember what you’re always telling me, where I go you go. Yadda, yadda. Yadda. I opened the door, and sure enough, a plain clothed police detective was standing on my doorstep. Fortunately, he was a friend. "Hey Kyle, don’t tell me you got the honor of coming down here to run us all in for disturbing the peace?" The good-natured cop simply shook his head. "Nothing like that, happy birthday, by the way." God does everyone know it’s my damn birthday? Becca must have taken out an ad in the LA Times. "C’mon in, and sit down. Can I get you something to drink, or are you on duty?" Kyle shook his head. "Just got off, I’ll take a Corona if you can spare one." I went to the bar, and grabbed a cold Corona from the fridge for Kyle, and one for me too. "I just happen to have a couple. Seriously, if we’re too loud, we can bring it in the house." Kyle wasn’t interested in the party noise in the least.

"No we haven’t had a single complaint. I’m here with some news about a potentially dangerous situation." Oh I new things were going too well. "You remember the guy who threatened you a few years ago. Farley, Findley…" Oh God no.

"Faraday? Arlan Faraday?" Damn I knew it.

"Yeah that’s the guy." What the hell?

"He was given thirty years to life for beating his stepdaughter to death. That was fifteen years ago. He still has another fifteen years before…" Kyle just shook his head. Becca, Stacey, and Harley and Angie entered the room just as I lost my shit.

"Do you mean to tell me that God damned, fucking bastard is out…"

Well what I had really intended to be just one story, has turned into a series. I guess we could call this the "Lost and Found" series. Or maybe not. Anyway, let me know what you think. If you want more, let me know.