“Charlie! Charlie Howard! Wow. I forgot all about him. Yeah, his folks were weird.”
“The Howards,” Wes said. “Right. They were way worse than—” He cut himself off as he spied George through the patio door.
George came out with a bottle of wine balanced on his elbow and four clean wine glasses. He struggled to get the door closed behind him, so Laura rushed over to help. He smiled at her and Wes saw her expression soften when he did.
Laura closed the door and took the bottle, then sat down and gave the bottle back to George. He poured each of them a glass.
“So,” George began, “that was kinda awkward.”
They all laughed.
“They're lovely,” Anne said. “First meetings like this are never very smooth, dear.”
George looked suspicious. “Oh? How many of these have you done?”
“Your folks make…” Wes's eyes glanced skyward and he thought for a minute, “fourteen.”
George's eyes widened.
Anne laughed and Laura gasped. “Daddy!” She turned to George, “That is not true!”
Wes grinned. “Laurie went to her senior prom with a boy whose parents insisted on meeting us beforehand.”
“Before prom?” Wes asked. “That's weird.”
Laura asked, “Who'd you go to prom with, baby?”
“Jessica Finelle. I had a crush on her since the first grade. She was not nearly as good as I built her up to be in my head.”
“Did she cheat on you? Was she mean to you? You want me to go over there?” Laura tried to sound tough and put on a ridiculous Italian mobster accent.
They laughed. George shook his head. “No, she wasn't mean. She was just bland. Very boring and ordinary. Not like you,” he smiled at her.
Wes and Anne smiled to each other. Wes winked at Anne and Anne gave him a look much like the one Laura gave George a few minutes ago.
“They really are nice people,” George said. “I'm sorry it was weird. I don't want to make excuses for them or anything, but my family has kinda been through a lot lately. I think they liked you. It was just,” he shrugged. “I dunno. Awkward, I guess.”
“It's fine, son,” Wes said. He took a sip of wine. “It's fine.”
“If you have much more wine,” Anne said, “you're going to get a DUI on your way to bed.”
Wes slurred his voice, “I shteer better when I'm drunk. 'Shides, I'm totally, completely shober, shweetie.”
Anne rolled her eyes at him. “Everyone's a comedian.”
“I just hope we can do something together again before the rehearsal dinner,” Laura said. “They are really sweet. They've always been very nice to me. I've never really seen them like this before. They're chatty and conversational and nice, most of the time.”
“I'm sure they're lovely,” Anne said. “Next time, maybe we should go out to dinner and meet on neutral territory.”
“We should've done that this time, now that I think about it,” George said. “Sorry.”
Wes shook his head. “Nonsense. No need to apologize.”
Anne held her empty glass out to George. He took it, refilled it, and handed it back. “Thank you! Are you two going back tomorrow or Sunday?”
Laura looked at George. He smiled back at her. “We were thinking Sunday,” she said. “If you don't mind.”
“Of course we don't, sweetheart,” Anne cooed. “You know you two can stay as long as you want. We're going to Shelly's play tomorrow. Do you two want to come?”
“What's the play?” Laura asked, as George said, “Sure!” They laughed.
“It's Oklahoma!”
“Yeah, okay,” Laura said. She looked at George. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “Sure.” He had another drink of his wine. “Mr. Lachance?”
“Wes, son. Call me Wes.”
“I still don't feel entirely comfortable doing that.”
“That's because your parents raised you right. What do you want to know?”
“Why did you keep your motorcycle after… you know… after the war?”
“Because it's a beautiful machine,” Wes grinned. “Because I swore that I'd keep it, even if I couldn't ride anymore. That I'd pass it down to my own son, so I'd have to keep it in tip top shape. And because it rooted me when I came back. It gave me something to obsess over, something I could actually fix.” He gestured over his lap to his knees, the ends of both of his legs. “Because all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't fix this. I needed something I could actually put back together again.”
“I'm sorry,” George said. “I hope I—”
“Nonsense. I loved that bike. And when I got back, I knew I'd never own another bike, so I just couldn't let this one go. It runs way better now than it did twenty-five years go, that's for sure. I have it tuned like a butterfly that shits lightning bolts.”
George laughed. “It must be pretty fast.”
“No idea!” Wes winked at George, “but it sounds incredible.”
“I bet.”
“Tomorrow morning, I'll figure it up for you.”
“Really?”
“Sure thing.”
Laura and Anne shared a glance with each other. “We'll, uh,” Laura began.
“Right,” Anne agreed. “We sure will.” They laughed.
-
Anne and Wes were in bed and Laura and George were watching a post-election special about George Bush. George whispered into Laura's ear, “Don't tell your dad, but I voted for Dukakis.”
“Don't tell my dad,” Laura whispered back into George's ear, “but I did, too.” She gently traced her tongue up from his earlobe to the tip of his ear, then clamped it tightly between her teeth. George's eyes closed and he sighed until she bit his ear, then he inhaled in a sharp hiss. She released him. “Seriously, though, don't you fucking tell him!”
“Never,” he grinned, then he started kissing the back of her neck. He was just reaching up the front of her sweater when the front door opened and Shelly burst in. She caught side of George and Laura making out on the sofa and laughed loudly.
Laura put her finger to her lips. “Ssh! Mom and dad are asleep!”
Michelle looked at her watch. “It's only like ten thirty. I'm sure they're not asleep.”
“Well, they're already in bed. Don't disturb them.”
“Why don't you go play your reindeer games in your own room, then?” Shelly's voice was sassy.
“Because,” Laura's voice was saucy, “we're learning all about our future president. We're being educated.”
“Right.” Shelly dropped her bags next to the front door and flopped down on the love seat. She kicked her feet up and draped her legs over the arm of the sofa and put her hands behind her head. She giggled when a commercial featuring the California Raisins came on.
“You want to go to bed?” Laura asked.
“Well, we were kinda watching the Bush thing.”
“Yeah,” Laura smiled, “we were only kinda watching it.”
George grinned and gave it. “Lead the way. Night, Shelly.”
“Night, guys. Don't make the bed creak too loudly!”
Laura threw a cushion at her sister and led George to her bedroom. The master bedroom was on the other side of the house from the girls' rooms. Shelly might be able to hear them, but her parents wouldn't. She was undressed moments after George closed the door behind them. She reached out and clicked the door lock button, then yanked George's shirt off over his head. He pushed her down on the bed and settled himself on top of her, kissing her fiercely. She wrapped her bare legs around his waist and pulled his head down so he could kiss her neck. She went for his ear again.
“You're wearing way too many clothes,” she breathed into his ear. She pushed against one of his shoulders and he rolled over onto his back. She rolled over with him and kissed her way down his chest and stomach until she reached the top of his jeans. She looked up at him and held his gaze while she popped the button free and slowly undid the zipper. She br
ought her hands up and slid his pants and underwear off and then gripped him with both hands. She slid her chest up his legs, over his pelvis, then back down and up over his hips again. She loved his low moan, almost a growl. She kept rubbing herself up his chest until their lips met again and she rolled over. “I've been desperate for you all night,” she whispered.
“Me, too.” His voice was low and coarse.
“Me, first.” She scooted down to the edge of the bed and brought her knees up so her legs made an M shape.
“Mm hmm.” He buried his face between her legs for the next several minutes. She grabbed a pillow and held it over her face as her legs began to tremble. She was right at the edge of her orgasm when she heard Michelle stomp conspicuously down the hallway and loudly close the door to her room. Laura lost it and started to giggle. Her orgasm was gone but she couldn't stop laughing. George tried to keep going but she patted him on the shoulder and gestured for him to come up next to her. She shook her head and couldn't stop laughing. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, still wheezing with laughter. “I can't. I just can't… I need a minute.”
George went from being startled and self-conscious to laughing along with her when they heard Shelly rummaging through the closet that shared a wall with Laura's room. They heard the closet doors close and Michelle turned her radio on. Laura managed to catch her breath and calm down. She turned her head to look at George. His chin and nose were moist and glistening in the dim light. “Oh, honey,” she baby talked to him, “you're all a mess. Let me clean that up for you.” She licked and kissed his face clean.
She stretched to reach the drawer of her nightstand, but she couldn't reach it. She stood up and quietly padded over to it, opened the drawer, then came back to George with two condoms. She ripped one wrapper open with her teeth and spit out the end. “You better get to use both of these, tiger.” She slowly unrolled the condom over him, then kissed him and lay on her back. He turned over and crawled toward her, positioning himself above her so he could look her in the eyes as he slid into her. Her lips parted and she gasped both in pleasure and in the effort to keep her eyes open and locked on his.
“Two?” He kissed her. “No problem.”
-
The next morning after breakfast, Wes wheeled into the garage with George in tow. Wes tapped the button to open the garage, then he gently slid the white cover off of the motorcycle. The chrome and hand-polished paintwork gleamed in the sunlight.
“I can't kick start it, of course,” Wes explained, “so I had a specialist install a custom electric starter. It's only been started with the switch for the last, what, twenty years? Why don't you go and give it a proper kick?”
“Me? Start it?”
Wes nodded. “You know how?”
George shook his head.
“Okay. Get over it. Get on. It's on the center stand. It's not going anywhere.”
George was terrified as he swung a leg over the bike. He was convinced that he would break the thing and Wes would shoot him and tell him he couldn't marry his daughter.
“Now,” Wes continued, “turn the key, there. Right. Adjust the choke, just like that. Good. Now it's a little chilly this morning, so you'll need to work the throttle a little just after you kick down, like this.” He showed George about how much to twist the grip. “Press down on the lever with your foot until you feel some resistance. No, keep going. You'll know when... There. Good. Now let the lever ratchet up to the top, and give her a good stomp.”
George got on his tiptoes and pressed down on the lever.
“Come on, son, don't be a pussy. You need to show the old girl who's boss. Kick her.”
George pressed the start lever down with his foot until he felt it catch again, then reset the lever. This time he stood up on his tiptoes and thrust downward with his whole body weight. The bike shook slightly and coughed a little but then was silent.
“Just like that, but next time, give it a little gas. Just a little.”
George reset the lever again and kicked down with all his might, just barely moving the throttle. The motorcycle roared to life. Wes reached up and twisted the throttle some more, letting it rev up and down. He adjusted the choke slightly then released the throttle. He nodded to George. “Good job. Now rev her up a little. Have a seat. It's on the center stand. It doesn't need you to hold it up.”
George twisted the throttle and felt the machine between his legs growl and resonate. He settled in and put his weight on the seat, then brought his feet up to the pegs. He put both hands on the handlebars and gave it some gas. His face lit up with delight.
“See?” Wes shouted.
George looked at him. “What?”
“Now you see why I kept it.”
George looked down at his reflection in the brilliantly polished fuel tank, then he looked up and assumed a more proper riding position. He revved it up again and nodded vigorously. “Yeah!” He shouted back. “Yeah, I sure do.”
Wes reached up and flipped the cutoff switch. The garage was instantly silent. George's ears rang slightly.
“You treat my little girl like I've treated her,” he nodded at the motorcycle, “and she'll be with you forever, too. You neglect her, abuse her, take her for granted, don't treat her right, and she'll leave you stranded on the side of the road. No question. She'll leave you stranded every time. You treasure her, treat her right, take care of her, give her what she needs and she'll reward you for the rest of your life. Understand me, son?”
George's face was solemn as he said, “I sure do. I'm in love with her, Mr. Lachance, like I've never loved anyone or anything. Like you love this. Like you love Mrs. Lachance. I love Laura. I need her. I'll take care of her. I promise.”
Wes nodded and held George's gaze for a long time. He offered his right hand to George. George took it and Wes shook it firmly. “I know you will, son. I'm proud to have you in the family.”
Laura stood in the house, just inside the doorway to the garage. Neither of them saw her standing there, watching them. Tears welled in her eyes. She turned to go back into the living room and saw her mother watching her.
“He's a good boy, Laurie,” Anne said. “Your dad's right. And so are you.”
“Oh, mom,” Laura hugged Anne tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for liking him.”
Anne sniffed and straightened. “I guess there's really only one more question.”
“What's that?”
“Is he going to change his name or keep his maiden name?”
They laughed and laughed until the men came back in from the garage. George looked puzzled and was about to ask what was so funny but Wes shook his head. “Doesn't matter. Just laugh along with them. Whatever it is, they're probably right.”
George watched Laura laughing with her entire body and he couldn't help it. He did laugh right along with her until they couldn't laugh anymore. What else could possibly happen? George wondered. I think we've been through the worst of it, and it's definitely lighter on the other side. Whatever comes up, I know we can handle it. He couldn't remember ever being so happy and content with life.
chapter 33
The audience dispersed and Slynn escorted Reffa back to the settlement.
Thirin held the fairies back until the rest of the pixies were gone.
“What did you mean, ‘she’s still alive?’” Shae asked.
Thirin took a breath to answer, but Shae asked another question. “And what was he doing to her?”
Thirin started to answer again, but Shae kept talking. “But why was he hurting her? Was he going to kill her? How does he decide if he’s going to kill her? Why are they called ‘defects’? And how does he know if they’re defects or not?”
Thirin blinked and looked at Shae, amused. He paused for a moment.
“I’m done,” Shae said, but immediately, she nodded and said, “I see. Well, I don’t like it one bit. And you shouldn’t call them, ‘it.’ They’re new arrivals, even if it’s just for a little while.”
“Not all of our new arrivals make it past the ceremony. Slynn was enacting the Judgment of The Void upon her. If she was deemed defective, she would have been killed. It’s a painful process, but we all go through it.
“Slynn doesn’t kill any of the defects himself,” Thirin continued. “The community takes care of that. They don’t want a defect among them. I’m not actually sure what The Void wants with any of us, or what makes any of us unworthy. What was the last question, again?”
“How does Slynn know?” Hope asked.
“He doesn’t. He doesn’t make the determination. He only starts the judgment. If the new arrival doesn’t undergo the change, or if it starts to injure itself, then it failed and it has to be destroyed.” Thirin thought for a second. “I’m not sure why we call them it instead of he or she. They aren’t here long enough for us to really consider them as proper beings, I suppose. Maybe it makes what the community has to do harder if they think of a defect as a pixie with a gender and a personality.”
Shae shuddered. “What happens when the arrival fails? Oh, that’s terrible.”
Thirin shook his head. “You could wait to respond until after I answer.”
“Sorry.”
Thirin shrugged. “Slynn lets the community know, and they set upon the new arrival. They tear it to pieces and feast on the flesh. They drink the blood. It strengthens them and strengthens the bond they have with each other, because they know they all made it.”
“Cannibals?” Herron was outraged. “You pixies are cannibals?”
“Only for the defects.”
Herron shook his head and sneered.
Thirin frowned at him. “Don’t be so quick to judge, fairy. Everything up in the Realms is so peaceful and idyllic. You have a new arrival who threatens you? Is capable of becoming a danger to you? You probably don’t have to face that, but you'd assign him some menial job and put him in the pasture. Here, if he doesn’t snap and kill a bunch of other pixies before we can take him down, you’re probably doing him a favor. A prap will rip him apart as surely as we would.”
The Void Hunters (Realmwalker Book 2) Page 23