Becoming the Storm
18 Golden
WHEN NIKKI ARRIVED on Sunday afternoon, the family was complete. Tim and Sora had driven up from Scottsburg Sunday morning. I got a call from Jessica about two in the afternoon confirming that it was okay for her and Amy to arrive on Christmas Eve. Of course!
People kept disappearing during the day. I don’t mean vanishing. I mean running off. We’d agreed on the mental health survival kits and spread the word to the other clan members. That meant that each person needed a kit. We talked about the kinds of things that would go in the kit and nothing was very big. We all wanted those squeezy stress-balls in our kits. I found that you could actually pick them up at the sporting goods store where they were sold to develop forearm and hand strength. We bought a gross of them. Theresa had a handle on a kind of tea that was supposed to calming and fragrant, but she had to run to her favorite organic store in Indianapolis to get it. Three other girls hopped in her car with her and they were gone most of the afternoon. Hannah spent the rest of the afternoon chasing around after little Ellie. I remembered the first time Maddie came to visit with Betts and all the girls chasing after her around the studio.
A team went to the Greenwood Mall and spread out to find containers for the emergency kits. They had a budget and agreed upon specifications for the kits. But not a design. Addison led the group and they brought back close to a hundred little boxes and bags that ranged from plastic purses to jewelry boxes to little toolboxes. Once they were all spread out in the studio Sunday night, everyone was welcome to attach his or her name to a box. We had Marshall and Martha, Del and Maribelle, and Maribelle’s parents join us, too. We weren’t leaving anyone out on purpose. It was going to be a great Christmas.
Speaking of which, we’d consulted with Del and he took three guys with him to cut a tree for the studio. We had a small tree in our family room at the big house, but the studio was where everyone would gather for our Christmas festivities. Baking was going on in every kitchen in the clan and I’d been persuaded to make up a batch of my Amish cookies. That kept the ovens in the studio kitchen going for a good part of the afternoon.
What I loved was the laughter. We were all released from school and ready for the holiday. And we were acting like a bunch of kids running around decorating and cooking and singing. Rose had managed to get bigger speakers for her boom box and had Christmas music playing in the studio. Hannah and I had stopped in Nashville after we rode Friday and practically bought out the Christmas store. We got lights, ornaments, and candles. Ross and Rich were arguing good naturedly about the proper way to string lights on a tree.
While we were in Nashville, I saw a shop called Sunsight Books and Good Stuff. It was a new age shop with books about herbs, rituals, palmistry, Tarot, and just about any other kind of woowoo stuff you wanted. They also had a lot of jewelry, crystals, and little accoutrements. I consulted with Hannah when I saw the necklace and she agreed. It was really pricey, but it would be worth it. Monday would be Rose’s golden birthday.
It was Monday the twenty-first of December and darling Rose was twenty-one years old. We got the day started right. I slipped downstairs quietly and prepared fresh bread and breakfast. Rose loved the fried dough, so I made up a batch and figured most everyone would want some. I’d also prepared a batch of Mom and Anna’s baked apple French toast casserole. I popped it into the oven as soon as I got to the kitchen. I heated ham slices and promptly at six o’clock, Josh and Tim came downstairs to help carry breakfast in bed up to our hearthmates.
Even with three of us carrying, we had to make two trips. Rose was sitting up with pillows piled behind her. Liz was brushing her long blonde hair. Hannah and Samantha were kissing her on the cheek and petting her, occasionally dipping their heads to lick a nipple. Jennifer and Courtney set themselves up to feed Rose and whenever a little sugar dropped on her breast, Hannah or Samantha was right there to lick it up.
“I feel like I’m queen!” Rose giggled. “Oh, my loyal subjects.” We all laughed and I nudged Rose’s legs apart so I could get between them. I lay my cheek right on her mons.
“My Matrón often sleeps with her head on me in exactly this position,” I said. “I understand the attraction. It’s so soft and comfortable. And there is such a delightful aroma.”
“Yours is never soft,” Rose sighed. “But I love to sleep there anyway.”
“Sometimes I wake up to the strangest feelings,” I said. Without moving too much, I licked the top of her slit.
“Brian,” Rose sighed. “It’s morning and everyone is gathered around us.”
“Yes, they are. Our entire casa. I’ll bet before long, some of them are making love. Relax and enjoy your breakfast, Matrón. I plan to enjoy mine.” With that I turned my head and gave her slit a more serious lick. I didn’t try to probe or attack her. I just gently and playfully teased around her lips. Sometimes I parted them enough to touch her clit with the tip of my tongue. Rose squeezed Hannah and Sam to her breasts.
“I am so enjoying my breakfast,” Rose said.
I predicted correctly that several people made love while we were playing, and noticed that there was some trading off among those who ministered to Rose’s beautiful little nipples. I was a little surprised when Jennifer and then Hannah pushed me from between Rose’s legs to sample her. I was really surprised when Cassie kissed Rose so intensely that I think both girls came.
But the entire day was not to be spent in bed. Rose’s parents arrived for a late lunch and to celebrate her birthday. Mom and Anna showed up before dinner, even though Dad wouldn’t be able to get here before Wednesday night. And after dinner, most of the clan gathered in the studio with parents who had already arrived. Tim mixed a Cosmopolitan for Rose and she toasted everyone with her first legal drink, clinking glasses first with her father and then with me. Sarah had been busy over the weekend. Every single person present had a flower. And if she missed anyone, there was a vase at the door where they could pick one up. After the toast, every person present came up one at a time and wished Rose happy birthday by presenting her with a flower. They weren’t all roses, but there were quite a few of those. There were daisies, carnations, freesia, sprigs of baby’s breath, big yellow things, some weird puffball, and even a couple orchids. Half way through the presentations, Rose was crying. It took half an hour for every person present to bring her a flower and say, “Happy birthday, Matrón.”
“Our Matrón is more than just a leader for our clan,” I said when I laid the final flower in her lap. She was practically covered with at least 75 flowers. “She is also our shaman, our minister. I want to place this symbol of recognition for her role as… instead of shaman, let’s just call her our fire guide… this symbol of her role as our fire guide around her neck if she will permit me.” I held the necklace I purchased in Nashville up to her and she burst into tears, nodding. On a gold chain was a pendant. The pendant was a star—what the store clerk told me was a pentacle—in the center of which was a crystal. I fastened the chain around Rose’s neck. She turned and kissed me.
“I love you,” she said. Then she turned to the family gathered to celebrate her golden birthday. “I love you. I love each of you. I love all of you.”
Mom and Anna stayed in the girls’ dormitory. I was pretty sure I’d hear stories about that in the morning. I led Rose to the master suite. Dani and Angela, as the newest members of our casa, came in to shower with her and bathe her. When they considered her clean, Cassie and Mary pushed me into the shower and gave me the same treatment. When we were both dry, we were led to the bed but not put in it. Instead, we stood at the foot as every single member of our casa came by and kissed us. Granted, Tim and Josh kissed me on the cheek and didn’t hug their junk up against me like they did with Rose, but we received a kiss and hug from each of our hearthmates. Dani—who let us both know that she was by no means asexual, Tim, Angela, Hannah, Josh, Mary, Cassie, Nikki, Sora, Sarah, Elaine, Courtney, Jennifer, Liz, Samantha, Whitney.
Each said simply, “I love you.” And then Rose and I were left alone.
“Did you orchestrate this?” she asked as I held her in my arms. I shook my head.
“Only the necklace. Everything else came from our hearthmates, cousins, and clan.”
“You feel like this all the time, don’t you?” she whispered. I felt the moisture of her intermittent tears. They would dry for a few minutes and then flood her eyes again. “Like all of these people love you, and respect you, and honor you. And they depend on you, look to you for answers, and follow wherever you lead. Oh, Brian, I’m sorry. How do you bear the weight of their love?”
“Sweet, precious Rose,” I whispered as I kissed the tears from her cheeks. “I bear it by sharing it with you, my love.”
I made love to Rose most of the night and we slept late on Tuesday morning. Then we were back in the holiday spirit.
Tuesday was the day Dinita’s house was delivered. By now, we were almost used to a house being delivered and ready for occupancy the same day. I was impressed with how individual NMH made each of the homes—possibly due to Rhiannon’s influence. Even though the house was a pretty standard three bedroom, two bath floorplan, the outside was homey and added to the village feel. Dinita’s home was on the lot farthest from the entrance and backed up to the space behind the barn where there was a gate that she could use or that Angela could use to visit her mother. Dinita was an avid naturist and wanted to be able to slip in when we were all naked without going through the rest of the village. We didn’t mind at all. I was actually getting used to seeing Angela’s mother naked.
John and Bea’s retirement home would not be delivered until after the first of the year. It was the largest of the three homes in the village because the Clintons insisted that they wanted room in the home for all their children and grandchildren when they wanted to visit. It would be a two-story city version of the typical farmhouse with a master suite on the first floor and four bedrooms and two baths upstairs. It certainly wasn’t as big as the big house, but it really looked nice and because of its location, it didn’t overshadow Marshall and Martha’s simple ranch house. It also helped block any view of the ranch from the entrance to the village.
We all cheered when Dinita’s home was certified for habitation. She cornered Angela and me and told us in no uncertain terms that we were invited to come and spend the night any time.
“Well, you got me convinced,” Bart said in his big voice on Christmas Eve morning. He and Dad, with several other fathers and sons, had just gone on a tour of the village with me. We saw the foundation for John and Bea’s home. Martha and Marshall brought us into their home and gave us the grand tour, complete with coffee and cookies. Not to be outdone, Dinita served eggnog in two varieties for those who wanted or didn’t want to drink alcohol so early in the day. Dinita had, thankfully, put on some clothes before she let us in. It was a kind of wrap she’d shown the girls before. Really just a big square of cloth that she wrapped around her body like a bath towel and then tied behind her neck. It took about ten seconds to go from nude to sort of dressed. I knew from experience that there was nothing under the material but Dinita.
“What are you convinced of, Pap?” I asked.
“I’m going to come up here and build a nice house and become a newdist,” he said. “I never liked clothes much.” Three hundred-pound Bart Wood as a nudist? I shuddered. Dinita was right on top of it, though.
“Well, that would certainly increase the scenery around here,” she said. There was a short pause as what she said sank in and then the Dads who were her guests started laughing. Dinita poured Bart a cup of the spiked eggnog as he laughed.
“Increase! Not improve, surely. Young woman, I like you. Won’t you please, won’t you please, please won’t you be my neighbor?” His mimic of Mr. Rogers was flawless and I wondered what other kinds of television shows Bart watched.
“I think it’s a great idea,” John said. “I believe though that there is an agricultural regulation in the county that says there must be a minimum of five acres per bull.” Bart choked on that one and spit eggnog through his nose. He got a lot of back-slapping.
“Well,” Bart said, “as lovely as some of the scenery is in this community, I certainly wouldn’t want to create an eyesore. I know some of you folks have sons here and some have daughters.” He got serious and the guys seemed to pick upon the change of tone. “I have three daughters living on the ranch, and in their twenty-one years, I have never seen them happier. I have purchased a lot here in the village and Sylvia is working with the triplets and with that nice young designer, Rhiannon, to build a home for the family. I expect it will be years before Syl and I move up here to be with them for more than a visit, but they have all three declared that this is their home. They can’t live in a dormitory forever. John, Hayden, Rex, you three have been the driving force among the parents to help these kids create their little Utopia. I want you to know that, all kidding aside, I’m throwing my weight behind you as well. It might not be the life I’d have chosen for my little girls, but as far as I can see, it’s a damned good life.” He raised his partially filled cup. “Here’s to the future of Corazón, Indiana.” Everyone clinked their cups and we continued our tour, thanking Dinita for her hospitality.
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