Message-ID: <56171asstr$1183464604@assm.asstr.org>
From: Russell Hoisington <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
User-Agent: Thunderbird 1.5.0.12 (Windows/20070509)
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} Wynter and Hailey 01 {Hoisington} (MF Mf mf bf Mg mg bg oral ped cons rom)
Lines: 8932
Date: Tue, 03 Jul 2007 08:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


                      WYNTER & HAILEY

This is an erotic fantasy.  It is the third sequel to
"Wynter" and follows "Wynter & Cinnamon."  It is not
necessary to read the previous three stories to understand
this one, as events are recapped within this story, but it
would help in order to better understand the background and
to see the growth in the characters.

The characters and the situation are purely imaginary, and
this story is NOT intended to be a guide for actual
behavior. Any similarities between this story and actual
people or actual events you should be ashamed of are purely
coincidental. If it is illegal in your part of the world to
access and read erotic fiction, or if you are underage, or
if you don't like underage sex stories, then you should
stop now.

This story is copyright 2007 by Russell Hoisington. Please
do not remove the author information or make any changes to
this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial (free)
sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.  That
does NOT mean that these stories are in the public domain,
nor does it mean that I give permission for you to use them
in spam advertising.  I reserve the right to determine what
is "spam advertising" by MY definition, not yours or anyone
else's.

Thank you for your consideration.

My sincerest thanks to Denny Wheeler for editing this
story and, along with Uncle Sky, the Night Hawk, Wizard,
Rod O'Steele, and, Old Man Ted, for their input and for
keeping the characters in character.  Special thanks to the
Night Hawk for being my musical advisor.

This story is dedicated to Uncle Sky, without whose
encouragement Wynter would have remained a short story.

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

                      WYNTER & HAILEY

                          Part One

                     Russell Hoisington

                            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 Middleton's 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 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 said 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 hadn't 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 t