Becoming the Storm
39 Deciding to Live
I SPENT THE REST of Memorial Day weekend just catching up with all my cousins in the clan and sleeping. I had to do stretches each day, of course, and Whitney was right beside me to monitor my forms.
“How are you doing?” I asked. “I can’t see any real hitch in your walk or anything. You look strong.”
“I’m healed,” she said. “All I have to show for my little injury in January is a scar, and it isn’t even very big. Theresa gave me a cream that reduces the scarring. We’re going to start applying it to you today. We’ve kept ahead of Samantha’s scarring but it’s pretty bad. Same with Danielle. We were going to use it on Courtney, but she decided she liked having a dimple on her butt. That girl and her butt!” I laughed a little. I knew Courtney was worried that I wouldn’t want to play with her bottom again because I’d always be afraid of hurting her. She was right, but I determined that I wouldn’t let that get in my way of pleasing her.
“Whitney, will you still be my lover?” I asked. I wasn’t sure. I had only made love to Dani since I got home, though I cuddled each of my naked hearthmates in the big chair.
“Will you still have us as your lovers?” Whitney asked.
“Of course! Why would I not?”
“Well, we all know there is a special bond between you and Danielle. And she’s carrying your child. We’re all aching to be with you, but we didn’t know if it would be okay,” she said.
“Oh, Whitney! I love you. Yes, there is something special between Dani and me. But neither of us want to exclude anyone else. I… Knowing that you were here… my family… that kept me together when nothing else could. I’m kind of a wreck, but if my lovers will still have me, I will be yours.”
“Everyone in the casa needs to hear that, Brian. Thank you for letting me be the first to know.” She kissed me and it felt like the first time we’d been together back as freshmen in high school.
“We need fireworks,” I whispered.
“Next month.” We kissed again. “Brian?” Whitney pushed away from me and then silently took my hand to lead me outdoors. I’d only been out to breathe the air as I went from casa to casa. Now, Whitney led me behind the barn and to the silo. The door stood open. Shit! “When I heard… felt what happened, I got Larry and the two of us cut the lock and removed your post. You might not have noticed the new seats around the firepit. The broken tie fits in perfectly with them. Then we decided to do a little remodeling inside.”
We went into the silo. It was empty. Three high windows let light into the space. A hardwood floor had been laid and the circular wall had been paneled. It was stark and beautiful.
“Adam and Judy helped me remodel it. She really needed that therapy, Brian. She’ll be back by the end of June. Monte took her on a retreat. They drove out to visit Geoff, Kevin, and Robyn. Only the three of us have used this space.” Whitney turned to face me, clasped her hands formally in front of her, and bowed her head. “Master, teach me.”
“Whitney! What are you doing? I’m no master. You are my master in martial arts. What can I possibly teach you?”
“Fire.”
The Dean of Students had called. He asked if I was up to discussing my past term and if I could come in on Monday the seventh. I figured I might as well get it over with. I was hoping that under the circumstances, my professors would have given me incompletes and I could finish them and take the exams this summer. I guessed that if I had to take the entire term over, I could still finish at the end of fall semester.
I was surprised when my advisor showed up for the meeting, too. After greetings, we settled down to business.
“We’re very proud of you, Brian,” the dean said. “Let me just say that on behalf of the university. And that you have our condolences both for your loss and for the injuries done to you and your friends. Having said that, my number one purpose for this meeting is to discuss your academic standing.”
“Thank you, Dean.”
“Dr. Morris has personally contacted each of your professors to discuss your absence during the last week of class and final exams. I think you’ll be pleased with the results.”
“Brian, all of your professors are willing to issue your final grade based on the work completed for the semester. All of them cited your concentrated work ethic and satisfactory progress in their classes,” Dr. Morris said. “Only in Computational Methodology would you receive a ‘B’ based on your current work. All other professors have indicated that you have done ‘A’ work in their classes and believe your final grade would have reflected that. If that is agreeable to you, you will receive five ‘A’s and one ‘B’ for the semester. If you wish to contest the math grade, or any of the others, you may take the final exam and hope to improve your score.”
“You mean I don’t have to retake anything?” I asked. This was too good to be true.
“Not unless you particularly want to.”
“Then I would…”
“Graduate,” the dean responded. “I took the liberty of having this made up for you.” He handed me a leather portfolio. Inside was my diploma. I had my BS in Chemistry with a minors in Communications and Math.
“Thank you. I really thought I’d have to repeat the semester. Thank you.”
“Brian, there is one other thing. You are the first we have talked to. Officially—in fact legally—the University cannot do or say anything that might be construed as admitting liability in the incident. That does not mean that we aren’t horrified by what happened on our campus and are deeply sorrowful for those who suffered. I really can’t express that strongly enough and hope that one day there will be a forum in which we can recognize the event officially. A donor has come forward, wanting to do something special for those wounded or injured in the shooting. The University has accepted on your behalf, and on behalf of each person wounded or injured, a grant for your continued education. Each of you will receive a waiver for tuition and a stipend for books and living expenses. According to the donor, this will continue for as long as you remain a student in pursuit of a degree. In other words, your Master’s and Doctorate are paid for should you choose to pursue them. The same is true for each of the young women. Two equivalent scholarships, to be awarded on an annual basis, have been established in memory of Rebecca Gifford and Alexandra Cortales. These scholarships will be awarded by Gamma House each year. Finally, a similar scholarship has been set up to be administered by Lambda Fraternity in memory of Raymond Stiles. I can only say that I hope you will all take advantage of this and continue through your PhDs.”
I was stunned. A donor. That’s all we’d know.
“I… Can I… Are you calling all the girls in?”
“We have sent out letters. Since I understand you are familiar with all of the young women, you may choose whether or not you tell them in advance,” the dean said.
“Brian, I hope you will choose to continue your work in chemistry,” Dr. Morris said. “Your application to continue was submitted and accepted shortly after the beginning of the semester. We also have a teaching assistantship available if you are interested, though it appears you do not need the financial aid now.”
“Thank you, Dr. Morris. Dean. I was afraid I would be behind. I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”
“I consider it unlikely that you ever could.”
During the week plus that I’d been back at the ranch, I’d begun to adjust to daily life again. It seemed odd not to have production camp going on this summer. I’d been unable to work on Young Cooking. Sora was closing down Dance Fit with the episodes that were already in the can. Elaine, Hannah, and Nikki were on hiatus for the summer as they prepared for broadcasting live starting on Labor Day. They were doing some spiffing up of the studio in preparation and I decided it would be a good idea for me to do the same. I’d been taping in the kitchen for three years, plus it had been used for meal preparation for everyone living in the dorms. It was looking a little worn. In my role as Executive Producer of my own show, I decided to start a kitchen renovation.
I hate getting on the phone. I don’t mind talking to people on the phone, I just hate making phone calls. This became the first place to face my fears. After all, if I could face down a gunman, I could face making a phone call, right?
I was amazed at how receptive our sponsors were to refurbishing the kitchen. Cortega, the company that had supplied all our major appliances, simply wanted to send a crew and swap out everything. They said they would take care of removing the old appliances and doing any adjustments necessary to install the new ones. They had a couple suggestions regarding what to put in and were going to upgrade us to next year’s models before they were actually on the market. I spent most of Tuesday on the phone with them, going over everything from models to colors. They were sending me color swatches so I could pick out paint. We needed to refinish the cabinetry that had become scuffed from three years of wear and tear.
I got back to the house feeling like I’d actually done a full day’s work for the first time since April. It felt good, but I was exhausted. I stripped at the door and was told by Angela to go relax in the big chair. She was in charge of dinner. I grabbed a cup of coffee and gladly went to sit and relax.
The coffee was cold and sitting on the end table when I woke up. Standing in front of me was Samantha, the most beautiful woman in America, a ragged scar across her left shoulder. She was, of course, naked, and I couldn’t help letting my eyes wander all down her body, smooth and hairless, before I returned to her face. Sam had lost weight over the past two months like I had and like Dani had. In fact, I thought everyone in the casa was looking a little thin. Her eyes were shadowed. I held out my arms to her.
“Can I hold you, my precious cónyuge?” She rushed to my arms and settled in my lap, pressing her hot face against my neck. I could feel the tears. There would never be enough tears to wash away our loss. I sat there and quietly cried with her.
“I think I’ve gotten better and I’m working at my rehab. It was really exhausting today,” she said. “Then something washes over me and all I can think about is losing my little sister and that she’ll never borrow anything from my closet again. Do you still love me, Brian? Have I lost you, too?”
Fuck! I haven’t paid enough attention to Sam. I’d spent time over the past week with every one of my hearthmates. Josh and I had taken a walk in the woods Monday afternoon. Last weekend Tim came up and we just sat on the front porch talking. Each of the women had cuddled naked in my lap, including Sarah and Sora. It wasn’t a sexual thing, but the intimacy and reconnection had been important. Yet, I’d only made love to Hannah, Whitney, Rose, and Dani. And now Samantha felt abandoned.
“I love you, Samantha,” I whispered. “I will always love you and I will never abandon you. I’m so sorry I haven’t been spending more time with you. Will you stay with me tonight?”
“Yes. I know there are so many that want to be with you. I was just afraid that the loss we suffered would drive us apart. I miss her so much. But I miss you even more.”
Sam sat on my lap during dinner. Afterward, we kissed our hearthmates and went to the master bedroom. On the way, Sam caught Dani’s hand and dragged her along with us. After we’d brushed our teeth and headed toward the bed, Dani stopped Samantha and gave her a long languorous kiss. Her jaw had been unwired on Friday and she’d been practicing working it with deep kisses. Seeing her with Samantha tore at my heart. I’d almost lost both of them.
“I need to spend a night in the big room,” Dani said. “You’ll be fine with Brian. Maybe I’ll suggest Hannah come down later.”
“Dani?” I said. She kissed me. It was the sweetest, most soulful kiss I’d ever experienced. And amazingly, it was just a kiss. I didn’t get hard from sharing my soul with her.
“You need each other tonight,” she whispered. “And our daughter needs to get comfortable with her aunties. I love you, Brian.”
Samantha and I made love. It was gentle and exhausting for both of us. We had to be careful of her arm. We were so lucky that the axillary artery was missed by the bullet and bone fragments. If that had been hit, she would have bled out before she got to the hospital. As it was, they had to completely rebuild her shoulder. She’d been on passive physical therapy for the past seven weeks which meant that she never moved her arm. The therapist did all the movement. Monday, they had begun active therapy, but at night and when she wasn’t exercising it, she still wore her arm in a sling.
I kissed her arm and spent a long time kissing along the scars on her shoulder.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I whispered as I kissed her.
“Wait,” she said. “Put your cock in me before we talk about loss. I want to know that we are connected. I want to feel you.” I slid into her wet, slippery Jill. “If I had obeyed you, I wouldn’t have been hit. You yelled, ‘Run!’ But I had to go to my sister.”
“You had to go,” I assured her. “Just as I had to try to stop him. If I had followed my own advice, I’d not have gotten shot. At least not the second time. But I had to. Just like you had to.”
“You do understand! Oh, Brian, when I saw her fall, I knew. I already knew she was gone. But I couldn’t stop myself,” Sam said. She caught her breath and squeezed with her pussy muscles. I pushed into her. I understood. We couldn’t succumb to the unending grief when we were joined together like this. There was too much love to let us sink.
“I saw you hit. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. But I was filled with something more than rage. It was the cold knowledge that I was the only one who could stop him. He saw me and was swinging his gun to shoot me when Dani attacked. She saved my life and I struck out as he shot me. Everything in me was screaming out that I love you as I dropped. I thought I’d failed. I thought I’d lost you and Lexi and Dani. At that moment, and for weeks that followed, I wanted to die.”
“Do you still want to die, Brian?”
“No. Not unless I die from making love to you, my sweet.”
“What changed? Because, sometimes when I’m all alone, I think I want to die and go join her. What changed?”
“Seeing you and Danielle and Addison and Courtney walk onto stage with Elaine changed it. You were strong enough to go out there and show people on national television that you had survived and wouldn’t die because of that bastard. When I saw you wouldn’t give up, even with your arm still in a sling and bandages on your shoulder, I knew that I could never give up. I would live for you and for my cónyuge, my casa, and my clan. That’s what changed, Sam.”
“I didn’t know until tonight,” she said. “I didn’t know if I would live until morning. Now I know. I know that no matter what, you still love me. I will live.”
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