[[[-IF5-P11.TXT-]]]


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Island Fever 5: Family
Written by: JeremyDCP@hotmail.com

M/F, F/F and a whole lot more
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Chapter 11: "Uncertainty"
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            -*-  Wednesday, March 23, 2016  -*-
                -*-  Sandvika, Norway  -*-


   "All I did was pull one little string and the whole 
shoulder of my shirt fell off."
   "And your shirt falling off is a bad thing?" I said in 
response to Kristanna, snuggling her in even closer to me
upon the bed, tossing a leg over her lap from behind and
linking our hands together at her stomach.  She was making
reference to an incident from last night with Pamela.
   My lips at Kristanna's ear, I then added, "I wanna be
the one to pull it next time."
   "But then I'd have no shirt left!" Kristanna screeched in
mock horror, before squinting her eyes and glaring at me
watchfully.  "I see where you're going with this, Jeremy."
   Soon, however, Kristanna smiled at our playful exchange,
her teeth shining brightly as the afternoon sunlight peeked
through the adjacent window.  Kristanna was insanely
attractive, her blonde hair a wavy cloud around her head,
her blue eyes soft and kind.  A shaft of golden sunlight
crossed the smooth skin of Kristanna's face, and honest to
God, I had never seen anything more stunning in my life.
   How was it possible for one woman to smell so good all the
time?  I had never been able to understand it.  Simply put,
day or night, nothing smelled better than being next to
Kristanna.  It was a conclusion that I had come to long ago.
She smelled like... I closed my eyes and inhaled, trying to
think.  What was the secret mixture today?  Honey?  Vanilla?
Lavender?  Perhaps jasmine?  Most of all, Kristanna smelled
warm.  Warm and inviting.  I could wrap her up in my arms
and, until the end of time, be perfectly, amazingly content.
   I felt a gentle tapping on my hand.  "Jeremy?"
   When I turned, Kristanna was still smiling at me.  "Hmmmmm?"
   "I'm having a really good time."
   "Me, too."
   That smile, all charming and radiant, was the best thing I
had seen all day.  Just nine days removed from giving birth,
yet still struggling with the constant worry about having a
premature baby and all of the health hazards that went along
with it, Kristanna was nowhere near her regular self.  She
had not left the house since coming home from the hospital,
except for taking Ariel to the pediatrician on Monday.
   Kristanna had been moody and depressed (and rightfully so)
for the better part of a week, yet seemed to turn the corner
later on Monday when we had the homecoming party for Ariel.
Yesterday, of course, was my birthday, and Kristanna had
found great joy in surprising me by helping my father show
up unannounced (all the way from California), and essentially
turning him into a present for me.
   Indeed, it was good to see Kristanna smile.  She was still
overly concerned about Ariel and her breathing condition,
though every doctor and caregiver we had spoken to had told
us there was no need to worry.  Ariel's condition was quite
common in premature infants and would fix itself over time.
Still, there was no telling that to Kristanna.
   At the same time, however, Kristanna's quirky personality -
plus that lovely and infectious smile - had been making a
comeback of sorts in the past 24 to 48 hours.  She still had
a long way to go, but was definitely on the right track.
   Of course, hugging and doting on Kristanna - something I
had been doing for the better part of the last hour as we
relaxed in bed - greatly aided that cause as well.  Ariel
was snoozing beside us in her baby crib while Kaden, our son,
was playing elsewhere in the mansion with Pamela and Piper.
It had been a pretty uneventful Wednesday thus far.
   I took a deep breath, finding Kristanna's scent to be
purely intoxicating.  I nearly became lost in it.  Her hands
felt very soft and delicate as they clutched mine.  Warm,
velvety, with nails long enough to feel the gentle scratch.
The color of her hair; a luscious, vibrant shade of gold, the
waves curling around on themselves.  Kristanna was beautiful!
   But I was suddenly yanked out of my mental reverie by the
words, "Don't you?"
   I glanced at Kristanna, whose pretty blue eyes sparkled in 
amusement.  "I'm sorry.  Ummmmm... what?"
   "Did you even hear what I just said?" Kristanna asked, her
voice low and husky.  "Or were you too lost in la-la land?"
   I shrugged my shoulders in the most innocent way possible.
   "Oh," she returned with a smile.  "I see how it's going to
be then.  Ignore me, huh?  Ignore THIS."  A finger under my
chin, Kristanna tipped it up and brought her mouth in slowly,
gently, inch by inch, until only millimeters separated our
lips.  Her eyes found mine and they easily held my gaze, as
every nerve ending in my body was suddenly stretched to its
absolute limit, waiting, anticipating, preparing...
   When our lips finally met, a surge of electricity went
through me, hot and bright.  Kristanna had the softest mouth
in the whole, wide world - this much I knew - and I savored 
the feel of it.  "My God, why do you taste so good?" I asked, 
not aware that I had actually posed the question out loud 
until Kristanna began chuckling in response to it.
   "It's so you'll keep kissing me," she explained.  "My own
personal secret!  Is it working?"
   I responded by grabbing the back of Kristanna's neck and
pulling her even closer to me.  An instant later, though, she
decided to completely shift her position, turning to face me
and straddling my lap, and settling her weight down upon my
thighs.  I moaned as I slid both hands across the expanse of
Kristanna's long, exquisite legs, only stopping where her
denim shorts ended.  Indeed, this woman was something else.
   "Why is it that I always feel so much at home, sitting in
your lap?" Kristanna asked with a grin.
   Instead of answering, I simply gazed into her eyes, and
watched the bright blue suddenly turn dark with desire.  I
moved in until we were literally breathing the same air.
   "You are so gorgeous," I gently whispered, and that was
apparently all that was needed.  Kristanna took my face into
her hands and mashed our mouths together in a scorching
kiss that quickly stole all the breath from my lungs.
   Sensations seemed to blend together at that point.  I knew
that Kristanna's hands were on me, felt them skim along my
shoulders, down my back, and across my hips, but it seemed
like they were everywhere at once.  Kristanna was melding her
lips and mouth with mine, her tongue pushing against my own.
All of the sensations mixed together were super hot and wet,
thrillingly erotic, and I wanted them to last for hours.
   But when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a little,
mitten-covered hand reach high into the air, followed by the
sound of a faint, sleepy cry, this make-out session was all
but over.  Ariel was awake and like the attentive, awesome
mother that she was, Kristanna was already on the case.
   "Arielllll..." Kristanna swooned at our daughter, sitting
on the edge of the bed and over her crib.  Just like that,
Kristanna was focused on Ariel.  And rightfully so.  "Why you
awake, little princess?  You just went to sleep an hour ago."
Kristanna made a funny face at her and added, "It isn't time
for you to wake up!  Oh, but Mommy is glad you're awake."
   "Does she need changing?" I asked, obviously referring to
her diaper, as I slid over to get a good vantage point.  In
her pink pajama jumper suit, with the matching beanie hat,
mittens and socks, Ariel's eyes were closed, her legs up and
criss-crossed, and her arms were flailing about.
   "No, she doesn't need changing," Kristanna informed me,
before inhaling sharply.  "Yawning?  Are you yawning, Ariel?
Oh... let it all out, honey.  Let it out!  Stretch those arms
and legs, yawn, yawn, yawn!  Yeah, that's it, honey.  Deep
breath.  Mommy likes seeing those deep breaths."
   "Hi," I offered, leaning down close and smiling at her.
"Looks like you don't know whether you want to wake up or go
back to sleep."  Being born four weeks premature, Ariel was
so incredibly small and fragile.  She was so tiny!  Active
and seemingly full of energy, albeit short bursts of it,
Ariel really was our miracle baby.
   "Ariel..." Kristanna grinned, and then the infant opened
her eyes.  "Oh, Ariel.  Do you want to play with Jackson and
Kaylee again, like last night?  Oh, I know what you want!
You want to see Grandpa Dale again!  You want him to hold
you?  Yeah, you liked it when Grandpa Dale was holding you."
Kristanna glanced at me.  "Where is your dad, Jeremy?"
   "He went out for lunch with Amy and Dani Grace," I said.
"Wants to spend time with all of his grandchildren."
   "Oh, is the light too bright?" Kristanna said to Ariel,
who was now squinting her eyes.  "Hmmmmm, Mommy loves you!"
She reached down and began to tickle Ariel's cheek with the
back of her index finger.  "I love you!  Give me a smile.
Give me a big 'ol SMILE!  I love you.  I love you.  I love
you!"  Kristanna laughed as Ariel opened her eyes wide, and
seemed to focus on her.  "Hi, honey.  Good afternoon!  Are
you Mommy's little angel?  Yes, you are!  You ARE."
   Kristanna suddenly growled and glanced skyward for a
moment, then turned and, biting her lip, smiled at me.  I
had my left hand wrapped around one of her ankles, my right
busily massaging her foot.  She had been complaining of a
slight tingling sensation in her right foot since giving
birth.  That, along with the fact both of her ankles were
swollen, Kristanna fully appreciated a good foot massage.
The doctor diagnosed her with a slight case of edema, a
common postpartum ailment in new mothers caused by fluid and
blood retention.  It should cure itself in a few weeks.
   "Hmmmmm," she groaned at me.  "Foot massage..."
   Still, Kristanna turned her focus to Ariel and leaned over,
splaying feathery kisses along her forehead and face.  I
continued working my magic upon Kristanna's foot, as well as
her ankle, as she swooned, "You look like you want to go back
to sleep, Ariel.  Yeah, it's not time for you to wake up yet.
No way you're hungry yet!  Close your eyes, cutie pie, and
take a nap.  Yeah, you're so tired.  Mommy wishes she could
nap with you, too."  Instead, Ariel simply lay in her crib,
not upset or fussy, but her arms and legs squirming about.
Indeed, she looked really tired and groggy.
   I ended the foot and ankle massage, only to slide in close
behind Kristanna and pull her toward me with an embrace.  I
nuzzled my face upon her neck and kissed her there, then sent
a trail of kisses to her shoulder and down her right arm.
She was in no physical shape for anything sexual quite yet -
not for a long time - but that certainly did not mean I could
not serenade her with unending affection and kisses.
   "You're such a good mother," I whispered at her.  "I know
this past week has been overwhelming to you, sweetheart.  You
have been tired, irritable, afraid, full of anxiety, but it
will all pass.  You're the best mom Ariel could possibly have.
Soon, before you and I know it, Ariel will be as wild and as
energetic - not to mention as happy - as Kaden is.  Ariel will
be running around the house, and it will be impossible for us
to keep up with her.  Kaden gets all of those attributes from
you.  So will Ariel.  You're a great mom, sweetheart, and our
kids will want to emulate you.  Kaden already does."
   "And all of the worry and fright I feel for Ariel being
born four weeks early," Kristanna squeaked, "will be a distant
memory?"  I nodded my head at her as, a tear streaming down
her face, she ended, "I sure hope that's the case."
   "We have nothing to worry about," I insisted.  "Ariel will
be fine, Krissy.  She will grow up perfectly healthy."
   "Oh, you're so pretty," Kristanna said to Ariel, running
her hand along the side of her body.  "Yeah, those eyelids
are heavy, aren't they?  Go back to sleep, honey."  When
Ariel closed her eyes, and Kristanna had the biggest smile
ever as she tightened the swaddle of the baby blanket.
   "You know what I want to see?" Kristanna then said softly,
moving back upon the bed and allowing Ariel some space.  "Two
things, actually.  Two things I want to see.  One of them,
dear Jeremy, I want you to get Devvy pregnant."
   "Devon?" I countered, stifling a laugh.  "While I say that
Devon would be a wonderful mother, she has certainly made no
indication that she actually wants to become pregnant quite
yet.  You know Devon's story, Krissy.  She likes being the
nanny for the family.  Devon thinks that if she were to get
pregnant and have her own child, she could no longer be the
nanny.  The family nanny.  You know, able to watch any of the
kids on a moment's notice, so you and the others can have a
quick reprieve, a break, from round-the-clock mom duties."
   "I know Devvy's story full well," Kristanna advised me.
"It still doesn't take away from the fact that I want you to
get her pregnant.  Devvy is being way too unselfish, which
she always is.  She always puts others ahead of herself.  I
know for a fact that she badly wants her very own children."
   "When Devon is ready and tells me," I promised Kristanna,
"she and I will work toward having a baby.  Of course, it
may happen at any time - you and I did not plan, or go out
of our way, for you to get pregnant with either Kaden or
Ariel.  But when she is ready, I'll be ready."
   Kristanna smiled at me.  "You're pretty amazing, Jeremy.
Having just one child and raising him or her is incredibly
tough work.  Kaden comes along, then Piper a few months
later.  Dani Grace is born, then boom, boom, boom, boom.
Jackson and Kaylee are born three days apart, Ariel arrives
a month later, and then of course we have Scarlett's baby,
Dylan, due in less than two weeks.  That's seven children
for you, Jeremy, in a little more than a year and a half.
And you're ready to proceed with Devon whenever she wants.
Most men could not handle the type of life you lead.  Yet
somehow you do it, making individual time for each of your
children on a daily basis.  You make time for each of your
wives, never make any of us feel left out, put out, in the
cold.  None of it seems to overwhelm or overburden you, 
either.  You take everything in stride."
   I shrugged my shoulders and held both hands out.  "I don't
really have a choice, do I?  I married seven women, knowing
full well all of them wanted to become mothers one day.  Some
more than others.  I knew what I was getting into.  It would
not be right of me to hold any of you back from parenthood.
It is tough work, yes, but things are made easier because all
of us work together really well as a team.  Case in point,
Kaden is with Pamela right now.  She volunteered to watch
Kaden so you and I could have some _alone time_.  Right?"
   "I said there was two things I wanted," Kristanna reminded
me.  "One was Devvy to get pregnant.  You know what the other
is, Jeremy?  I want you to get Pamela pregnant again, too."
   "Pamela?" I retorted.  "Sweetheart, Pamela went through
that nasty bout of Postpartum Depression after Piper was born.
She struggled with the weight gain, her self-image, for many
months, had trouble eating and sleeping, did not like for
anyone other than herself to watch Piper.  Pamela has even
said that Piper is enough for her.  She does not want to get
pregnant, risk going through all of that aftermath again.
It nearly tore her apart."
   Kristanna frowned.  "But Pamela is such a great mommy!
She adores Piper, and Piper adores her.  They are so cute
together!  I think it would be a sheer crime if Piper was
Pamela's only child.  She at least needs to have a boy!"
   "And what if the Postpartum Depression returns?  It is
not something Pamela can control herself, make go away on a
moment's notice, honey.  It's like a bad virus."
   "I would not let Pamela get down and depressed like that
again," Kristanna insisted.  "Neither would you, Jeremy, or
the other girls, too.  We would keep an eye on Pamela, have
her back.  Just like all of you have been looking out for me,
since the very moment we were told that Ariel had to be
induced and born as soon as possible.  Everyone, especially
you, Jeremy, has been looking out for me."
   "Yet you've had an incredibly difficult week..."
   "It would have been an impossible week without the constant
love and support from you and the others," she told me.  "I'm
not saying you have to go and get Pamela pregnant, Jeremy.
She needs to agree to it first, and be on board 100 percent.
I just need to talk to her about it some more.  Not to coerce
or sway her opinion selfishly toward mine, you know.  Just...
she loves Piper so much.  Pamela is a great mommy.  It would
make me so happy if she had another child.  I know down-deep,
it would make Pamela happy, too.  And I promise to be there
for her, if any of those symptoms pop up again.  I promise to
be there for her regardless, because I love her so much."
   "Pamela once told me that she wanted to have four or five
children," Kristanna added.  "Now, all of a sudden, it is one.
Not because she lost interest in being a parent, mind you, but
Pamela doesn't want to run the risk of going through PPD again
because it was so terrible last time.  Well, this time, it
won't get anywhere near as bad for her.  I won't let it.  You
won't let it, Jeremy.  Neither will the others."  Kristanna
paused, then shook her head.  "It will be a crying shame, at
least in my eyes, if Pamela doesn't have a second baby.  And
I don't want her to regret only having one 20 years from now."
   "You're going through Postpartum Depression yourself right
now," I informed Kristanna.  "But for a totally different
reason than Pamela did.  You're worried.  You're worried about
the breathing condition that Ariel has.  You're worried that
because Ariel was premature, there may be problems in the
future.  How many times have I, or one of the others, come
across you upset, even crying this past week?"
   Kristanna pouted and sniffed her nose, but then nodded.
"Would be a lot worse without all that love and support.
Besides, I'm a worrier.  I always have been.  I know this
will pass, though.  Things will get better.  Aside from the
little hiccup with her breathing - which the doctors tell us
not to worry about - Ariel is perfectly healthy.  Lots of
premature babies born at 35 weeks turn out to be perfectly
fine.  It's not like she was born at 28, 29 weeks, and had
to spend the first month or two of her life in the NICU.
Ariel was home with us the same week."  Kristanna nodded yet
again.  "Hmmmmm, she will be fine.  She already is."
   Kristanna leaned over toward Ariel and inspected her.
"Ariel, look at you... you're sleeping again.  Such a pretty
girl!  Did you just want to wake up and say hello to me
and Daddy real quick, then go right back to bed?  Oh, you
are so precious.  Mommy loves you!"
   "Daddy loves you too," I added, glancing at our daughter.
   Still seated in front of me, Kristanna grasped my right
hand, lazily kissed the knuckles, then tucked it up against
her chest.  "I am really, really comfortable," she told me,
her voice a little dreamy.  Kristanna tilted her head upon
my shoulder and sighed.  "Your idea of just sitting and
relaxing together in bed this afternoon was awesome."
   "I'm content to stay here until dinner-time," I said.  "It
is up to you, sweetheart.  I'm game for whatever."
   Suddenly, there was a gentle series of knocks upon the
door to our bedroom.  When both of us turned toward it, I
instinctively broke out into a wide, far-reaching smile.
   Lindsay reluctantly peeked around the doorway, then grinned
herself and took a step into the room.  "Am I interrupting
anything?"  Lindsay wore black jeans and a snug-fitting white
tank top, with a red cardigan tossed over top, that made the
color of her eyes simply pop.  Waves of blonde hair cascading
around her shoulders, Lindsay held a small, colorful bouquet
of flowers in one hand, which she promptly extended toward
Kristanna with a bright, friendly smile.  "Hi," she said
softly.  "These are for you."
   "Hi," Kristanna replied, a grin crossing her face.  "Come
on in, sweetie.  You could never interrupt us.  And thank you."
   But then Lindsay stepped aside, and in rumbled Kaden, my
19-month-old son with Kristanna.  He immediately rushed over 
and dove toward the big, comfortable chair, then picked up a
magazine and opened it to a totally random page.
   "What, Kaden?" Kristanna laughed at the toddler.  "You
going to read Aunt Trish's fitness magazine?"
   "I was downstairs playing with Pamela, Kaden and Piper, as
Kaylee took her nap, and Kaden wanted to see the two of you,"
Lindsay told us.  She gave the small bouquet of flowers to
Kristanna and added, "I volunteered to walk him up here."
   "You been behaving, Kaden?" Kristanna asked, but our son
just looked at her with wide eyes.  "No?  I didn't think so.
Oh, and thank you again, Lindsay.  These are beautiful!"
   Kaden then squealed and grinned, and began to thumb through
the pages of the magazine.
   "You didn't want to see me or Mommy, Kaden," I told him
with a chuckle.  "You just wanted to come here, sit in my
chair, and read a magazine.  You're such an old man."
   "Is Ariel sleeping?" Lindsay asked, glancing her way.
   "Yeah," Kristanna nodded.
   "Who is that?" I asked Kaden, pointing toward Ariel.
"Kaden, who is that?  Is that your baby sister?  Can you say
her name?  What's her name, Kaden?  Say... Ariel.  Ariel!"
   "Airy," he mumbled.
   "Good job!" I encouraged him.
   "Do you love Ariel, Kaden?" Kristanna asked him, and he
nodded his head.  "Yeah, you do.  You love your baby sister,
don't you?  Guess what, bucko?  Baby sister loves you, too!"
She then tilted her head from side to side, saying, "Oh, you
look so cute and cuddly, Kaden!  Come give Mommy a hug!"
   With the flowers safely on the nightstand, Kaden bolted
out of the chair and literally flung himself at us.  I caught
him mid-air, but quickly handed him off to Kristanna so she
could hug and kiss on him.  She began to tickle him, though,
which sent him into a fit of hysterical, toddler rage.
   "Where's Daddy at?" Lindsay asked Kaden, and he promptly
pointed at Kristanna.  "No!  That's not Daddy, that's Mommy!
Where's Daddy at?  Come on, where is he?"  When Kaden pointed
at me, Lindsay gave him a high-five.  "You got it!"
   "You're so cute and cuddly!" Kristanna exclaimed at Kaden.
"How come you're so cute and cuddly?  Oh, all Mommy wants to
do anymore is smooch and cuddle with you!"  She then motioned
toward Lindsay.  "You love Lindsay too.  Don't you, Kaden?
Yeah, you do.  We all love Lindsay.  She's such a nice girl."
Kristanna reached out and grasped hands with her precious
wife.  "You and Trish ready for your doctor appointments today,
honey?  What time are they again?  Three-thirty and four?"
   "Yes," Lindsay nodded, taking a seat on the edge of the bed 
with us.  "Both Jackson and Kaylee were born more than five 
weeks ago.  I want a clean bill of health for Trish and I, 
obviously, first and foremost, but I also want the doctor
to..."  Lindsay glanced at Kaden, reminding herself that he
(and his impressionable ears) was in the bedroom with us.
   "You want him to clear you and Trish," Kristanna offered.
   "Yes."
   Kristanna snickered.  "If that happens, you and Trish won't 
even make it out of the doctor's parking lot."
   Lindsay chuckled as well.  "Probably not.  My little car is
gonna be rockin' back and forth."
   What Kristanna and Lindsay were referring to was the hope
that, just shy of six weeks after giving birth to Jackson and
Kaylee, respectively, the doctor would deem Trish and Lindsay
healthy enough to return to normal sexual activity.  It had
been a long time coming for both of them, but especially
Lindsay.  She had been antsy this past week, and badly wanted
to get back into the swing of things.  Plus, there was the
ongoing situation with her sister.  If the doctor gave her the
clearance she so desperately wanted, would Lindsay go to bed 
and actually have sex with Alison tonight?  Honestly, it would 
not surprise me one bit if she did.
   "I hope the doctor gives you both the news you want to
hear," Kristanna told her.  "I just wish I could join in on
the fun afterward."  She offered a highly exaggerated pout
and concluded, "No fun for me for a good four or five weeks."
   "How about a make-out session?" Lindsay suggested.  "You
can't go all the way, obviously, but we could have a make-out
session between me, you and Trish after dinner tonight.  You
know... lots of kissing and hugging, and touching."
   I raised a finger.  "Ummmmm.  I want in on that, too."
   Kristanna gave me a playful shove upon the shoulder.  "Shut
up, Jeremy!  No one asked you."
   "Wow," I returned with mock sadness.  "So cold."
   "We'll see," Kristanna promised Lindsay.
   "Why don't you come go on a walk with me right now?"
Lindsay suggested to Kristanna, standing up from the bed and
extending a hand toward her.  "Kaden can come too if he wants.
It would probably do you some good, Krissy, to get up, move
around a bit, get some blood flowing in your legs."
   "I was kind of here with Jeremy," Kristanna responded,
seeming hesitant.  Clearly, Kristanna did not want to hurt 
my feelings after I just suggested moments ago that she and I
could stay here in bed until dinner-time.  "I don't want to
skip out on Jeremy, Lindsay, and..."
   "Go with Lindsay," I insisted, cutting her words off.  "Put
your coats on, take a walk around the farm... smell the fresh
air."  I rubbed Kristanna's kneecap.  "Would be good for you."
   "Are you sure?"
   "Positive," I nodded.
   Kristanna accepted Lindsay's hand, but turned to look at
Kaden.  "You want to go on a walk with me and Aunt Lindsay?
We could go to the stables and see your favorite horse,
Blakken.  Would you like that, Kaden?  You want to go and
say hello to Blakken?"
   Suddenly very interested (not to mention excited), Kaden
nodded his head quite vigorously and hopped off of the bed.
He absolutely _loved_ to go to the horse stables.  He was 
jumping around, anxious to see his favorite horse.
   "What about you, Jeremy?" Lindsay wondered.
   "You all go have your fun," I told her, motioning toward
the nearby baby crib with my head.  "I'll stay here with the
little chick.  Ariel and I always have riveting conversations."
   Kristanna cracked a fake smile.  "You sure, Jeremy?  I 
mean, we were having such a nice time..."
   "Go," I insisted.  "Just go.  It will be good for you."
   Kristanna, who was standing up now, leaned over and pecked
my lips with a kiss.  Lindsay followed suit, but the kiss she
gave me was much deeper and more thorough.  It only made
sense, as Kristanna and I had been kissing for the past hour.
   "We love you," Lindsay grinned, waving her hand at me.
   As I hugged on and said a temporary good-bye to Kaden, I
pointed at Lindsay.  "You and Trish be careful going to the
doctor later.  And I love you too, Lindsay.  I love you as
well, Krissy."  I turned toward Kaden and bounced him in my
arms, ending, "And I especially love you!"

   A moment later, I was left alone in the bedroom with Ariel.

   I had so many priorities in life at the moment, several of
them high on my list, but the most important one to me was
simply getting Kristanna back to her usual, everyday self.
That was what the past hour or so had been about for me.
Snuggling and kissing with her here in bed, sharing sweet,
idle chat; just getting the opportunity to see that smile.
That spellbinding, purely angelic smile....
   Ariel being born four weeks premature was one thing, but
the fact that the doctor and nurses took her away from us a
mere 60 seconds after she exited the womb had really stuck
with Kristanna, and cut her emotionally.  Oh, we both knew
that Ariel needed to go to the NICU to be checked and then
monitored for any health issues.  Still, it was not easy to
let her go so easily, and then not get any updates for hours.
   Kristanna felt absolutely miserable once Ariel was born.
Not able to hold Ariel, or spend time with her, she felt
helpless, sad, guilty, anxious, angry and completely
traumatized by the entire birth experience.  We did not even 
get to even see her at all for well over five hours.
   "I don't even feel as if Ariel is our baby," Kristanna
told me in a moment of weakness, shortly after we got to
visit her in the NICU for the first time later that same
morning.  "It seems as if she is the hospital's baby..."
   I went through my own range of emotions while Ariel was
in the NICU, but I coped and handled them much better than
Kristanna did.  Still, it was difficult for me as well.  I
had no control over what was happening to Ariel in the NICU.
I felt helpless, powerless; there was nothing I could do to
make a difference, or help Ariel get stronger.  It was
downright painful, and I often wondered if there was anything
I could have done differently to prevent a premature birth.
   Kristanna was a nervous wreck the first night Ariel was
actually home, and away from the hospital.  She was fearful
that Ariel would stop breathing since she was out of the
incubator and off of the monitors.  Me?  I looked at it a
different way.  I trusted that Ariel was only allowed to go
home with us once the hospital staff was confident that she
could cope and thrive outside of their care.  That, and the
doctors constantly told us not to worry about her breathing
condition.  It was normal, and would go away over time.  But
the thought - the fear - still nagged at the back of my mind.
   Ultimately, Kristanna's mental struggles with everything
that had transpired could be over in six weeks, six months
or maybe even six years.  There was no timetable.  I was not
forcing or coercing her in a certain direction, but I was
definitely trying to nudge.  I was trying to make sure that
she ate a healthy diet and got exercise (thank you, Lindsay,
for offering to go on a walk with her).  If Kristanna wanted
to cry or become emotional, I would allow her to do so.  If
she wanted to talk and simply vent her feelings, I would drop
whatever I was doing and listen to everything she had to say.
Or if Kristanna wanted to relax in bed and simply cuddle, and
share sweet kisses, I could do that too.  Oh yes, I could...
   Whatever it took to make her feel better.
   But things seemed to be looking up.  Ariel had been home
since Saturday, and aside from three occasions we knew of
where she stopped breathing in her sleep for upwards of 10
seconds, only to resume on her own without assistance (that
was her ailment), there had been nothing else to worry about.
Ariel appeared healthy, alert and attentive when awake.  She
came along a bit early, indeed, but really seemed no different
than Piper, Dani Grace and Kaylee did when they were a week
old.  All of them were my precious, adorable daughters.
   "You okay over there, chick?" I said to Ariel, who was
still snoozing in her crib.  Yet at the same time, as was
often the case when I watched Ariel sleep, my eyes were
fixated on her torso.  Was that tummy rising and falling ever
so softly?  Yes, it was.  Good.  That meant she was breathing.
If not, I would have up to 10 seconds of intense panic.
   It was not fun.
   I checked my cell phone.  I had ignored its constant
beeping and buzzing during all of the time that I was with
Kristanna earlier.  The other ladies in my life had a way of
continually bombarding me with random text messages whenever
I was not with them.  Today, of course, was no exception.
   Amy sent me a photograph of my father holding a happy and
smiling Dani Grace which, of course, made me smile as well.
Apparently the three of them took a trip to the botanical
garden after their lunch date, or _Botanisk Hage og Museum_,
a haven of green in the downtown heart of Oslo.
   "jeremy i need a muffin, find me one" was a text message
I got from Scarlett, followed six minutes later by, "i dont
care who you have to kill, just get me their muffin".
   "im sitting here nomming my apples and i keep dropping
them on myself like an idiot xD" (a nugget from Alison)
   "This Powderpuff Girls show Piper likes to watch is so
incredibly deep." (Pamela)
   "Today’s workout effort rendered obsolete by the dark
chocolate sea salt caramel left in the kitchen..." (Trish)
   And several more from Scarlett, clearly in a playful mood.
"IM DYING", "OF HUNGER", "DONT IGNORE ME BITCH".  20 minutes
later, she ended with, "OMG PANTS THAT FITTTTTTTT!!!".
   Not to mention, a really good text from Devon.  "JEREMY!
Shopping over here in Hovik, I just saw something in the
window of the lingerie store.  It was stunning, sexy, cute,
adorable and beautiful.  And hot!  I was going to buy it for
you, until I realized it was my very own REFLECTION!"
   A new text, sent as I was reading the others, from Lindsay.
"im eating your sausage tonight".
   Well, that sounded promising...
   Chuckling and shaking my head, I set my cell phone down
and exhaled deeply.  I led a pretty cool life.  And I was
surrounded by some very special, amazing people.

                           * * *

   "What happened to you?"
   Pamela jerked her head up and a singe of embarrassment
flashed across her cheeks.  She quickly used a towel to wipe
away what appeared to be a splattering of pureed blueberries
all over her front, including her face and even in her hair.
   Piper squealed and banged her hands on the snack tray in
front of her.  I quickly put two and two together, knowing
this was not good for Pamela.  Clearly, Piper had chucked
her blueberry meal all over her poor mother.
   "She's a bit grumpy and upset," Pamela offered.  "And
apparently not in the mood to keep her food down."
   "You okay, honey?" I asked Piper, leaning down to give our
15-month-old daughter a kiss on the crown of her head.  When
Piper extended her arms toward me, I took her out of the high
chair and held her close.  At the same time, I looked at
Pamela.  I felt sympathy for her.  The blueberries were
everywhere.  "You don't look so good," I told my beloved wife,
smoothing Piper's fluffy hair down over her forehead.
   "Oh, I'll be fine," Pamela said, her tone softening a bit
as Piper smiled up at me.  Was my presence alone enough help 
to bring that smile to her face?  "I'm pretty sure Piper is
getting a new tooth.  It always causes her to be cranky."
   "I'm keeping an eye on Ariel in the bedroom, so I can only
stay here for a few moments," I told Pamela as I tossed Piper
into the air and caught her.  Piper squealed with delight as
I flung her up and effortlessly caught her again.  Suddenly,
she was bopping me on the shoulder with a big, slobbery grin.
"I just came down here to get a snack."
   "You mind some company in the bedroom?" Pamela asked,
motioning toward her clothing.  Poor Pamela.  "I really need
to change.  So does Piper.  It's all over her, too."
   "I'll grab me a quick bite to eat here while you take
Piper off to the bedroom and get changed," were my words.  "I
will also stay behind and clean up the mess, provided you go
there quick and keep an eye on Ariel for me.  Deal?"
   "Deal," Pamela nodded, kissing me (I did not care about
the blueberry disaster) as I handed Piper off to her.  After I
planted a kiss on Piper's forehead, Pamela turned and whisked
her off toward the master bedroom.
   First, I concentrated on the food stains upon the high
chair and the kitchen table.  It was not a quick clean-up.  
Then, I tossed all of the remnants into the nearby trash can.
I fixed a simple sandwich for myself - ham and cheese, nothing 
too fancy - and hungrily snarfed it down.  Finally, I took 
care of the dishes in the sink.
   When I made my return to the bedroom, I noticed that the
washroom door was open and Piper was seated on the floor
inside, all happy and giggles.  She had a new dress on, with
her little butterfly hair clips dangling precariously.  I
also heard water running, so after checking on Ariel (mainly
that she was breathing, of course), I went into the washroom 
and found Pamela on her knees, hunched over the bathtub, 
giving her blueberry-decorated hair a rinse under the faucet.
   I could not help but to smile at the sight.  Not only was
Pamela was on her knees bent over, but she had gotten rid of 
her top, too, and only a white bra concealed her breasts
from my view.  I stood there silently for several seconds, 
admiring her, before finally offering with a playful, teasing 
grin, "Piper should lose her lunch on you more often."
   "Shut up, Jeremy!" Pamela angrily snapped back.
   Piper giggled at the outburst as I laughed.  Then, I swept
Piper up into my arms and took her over to the bed.  Her arms
and legs were flailing when I sat down and perched her on my
lap.  When I tickled her stomach with my hand, Piper cackled 
loudly and tried to protect herself.
   "How old are you?" I asked Piper, who blurted out a sound
in response.  "One.  Yeah!  What does the doggie say?"  She 
continued to look up at me, and finally made a sound.  "What
does the horsey say?"  No answer this time, unfortunately.  
"What does the rabbit say?  The bunny?"  Piper giggled wildly
at that question for some reason.  "What does the cat say?"
More baby talk!  "What does the cow say?  MOOOOO!"  Piper
smacked my chest with her hands.  "What does the chicken say?"
She then became really animated and tossed her arms about
wildly.  "Yeah, cluck-cluck.  What does the owl say?"  To
her credit, those brown eyes went wide as saucers.  "What
does the squirrel say?  Chuck-a-chuck-chuck-chuck!"  Piper
erupted at my poor attempt of squirrel language.
   Shifting gears, I then asked, "Can you say... Krissy?"
   "Twisty!" she responded.
   "Good job!  Can you say... Amy?"
   "Me-me!"
   "Can you say... mama?"
   "Mama!"
   "Can you say... dada?"
   "Mama!"
   "No, silly!" I laughed at her.  "Not mama.  Say... dada."
   "Dada!" she roared at me.
   After a few more moments of give-and-take with Piper, I
looked up and noticed that Pamela had decided to grace us
with her presence.  Dressed in a pair of cropped blue jeans
and a white fisherman's sweater, Pamela's blonde hair was
still wet and looked stringy while standing at the entrance
to the washroom, but she was furiously running a thick brush
through it.  At the same time, there was a big smile upon
her face as she watched me interact with Piper.  Pamela took
just as much pride in me as a father that I did in her as a
mother, and it was a pretty awesome thing.
   "Mama!" Piper blurted out and, before I knew it, she hopped
down from my lap and ran over to her mother.
   Pamela picked her up and spun her around like a helicopter
blade three times, barraging her with kisses in the process.  
Piper really seemed to like running her fingers throughout her 
mother's long, wet hair.  "You want to play with your blocks, 
sweet P?  Yeah, let's go play with your alphabet blocks."
   I shot a quick glance over toward Ariel - still sleeping -
then found myself utterly transfixed and captivated by the
sight of Pamela and Piper together, stacking a series of
plastic toy blocks in the corner.  I had so much respect and
admiration for my amazing bride.  How could a woman, who spent
12 years as an exotic dancer in Baltimore, suddenly morph
into this very sweet and innocent, loving, nurturing wife
and mother?  Despite her past - hell, despite my past - at
the end of the day, Pamela and I were always together.  What
more could I possibly ask for than that?
   "What does that say, honey?" Pamela spoke to our daughter,
having stacked a series of five alphabetical blocks that read,
from top to bottom, _PIPER_.  The little toddler did not
seem to care, though, knocking over the blocks with her right
hand and then laughing about it afterward.
   "Oh!" Pamela then exclaimed, grinning.  "It said... Piper!"
Pamela hugged her close, adding, "You knocked over my blocks!
How could you do that to me?  Your very own name!"
   "Have you given any more thought to having a second child?"

   Oh wow.  Did I really just ask Pamela that?  Kristanna put
that thought in my mind earlier and, just watching Pamela with
Piper now, I spouted the question off with no prior thought.

   Pamela immediately went from laughter to tense silence.
The idea of having another child had been a very delicate
subject to discuss with her in the past.  Suddenly, I wished
that Kristanna was here, because she would give me good backup.
   Pamela went through several months of Postpartum Depression
after Piper was born.  It was not a character flaw on her
part, nor did it mean that she was not looking forward to
parenthood.  It was simply an unfortunate complication, a
side effect, of giving birth.  Many women deal with it, some
much better than others.  Often misunderstood, Postpartum 
Depression is an illness, not a choice, or a weakness.
   Pamela struggled mightily with extreme mood swings, crying
spells, difficulty eating, weight gain and, worst of all,
feelings of hopelessness.  With treatment from her regular
doctor, a specialized psychiatrist, and the loving support
of our family, Pamela was eventually able to dig herself out
of those doldrums and return to her normal self, while also
becoming an excellent mother for Piper in the process.
   But Pamela had also sworn off the idea of ever having
another child.  Not because she did not want to be a parent
again, mind you, but simply due to the fear that those
symptoms of Postpartum Depression would return.  It had been
the darkest time of her whole, entire life.
   "Have a second child?" Pamela finally said to me, her face
full of shock, her eyes big.  It certainly was a question out
of left field from me.  Suddenly upset, Pamela shook her head
repeatedly.  "No.  No.  We've talked about this before."
   If not for the sound of Piper in a joyful mood, singing,
the atmosphere here in the bedroom would be eerie, disturbing.
It was something that was not common around here.
   "I'm just asking the question," I responded in a gentle
tone, perhaps in self-defense.  My God, why did I have to
blurt that out?  I did not even think about it beforehand.
Why couldn't Kristanna be here with me now?  She was better at
talking about this particular topic with Pamela than I was.
   "Did Krissy put you up to this?"
   I moaned and hung my head low.  Kristanna had been lobbying
for Pamela to become pregnant again for well over a year now.
But Pamela wanted no part of it.  She did not want to run the
risk of what happened last time repeating itself again.
   "Krissy mentioned it," I said, which caused Pamela to sigh
in anger and frustration.  "I kind of happen to agree with
her.  You love Piper so much, honey.  She loves you.  You're
an excellent mother.  Why wouldn't you want to have another
baby?  At one point, didn't you want four or five children?
You told me that you used to dream about that as a teen-ager.
Now all you want is one?  We are better prepared, Pamela, as
a family, to take care of and handle anything that happens to
you.  We have been through it before.  We are... going through
it now, for Christ's sake, with Krissy.  We know what to expect,
how to deal with it.  Last time, we did not know how to deal
with it at first.  And you have so many people who..."
   "How can you guarantee that everything will be okay?"
Pamela interjected, cutting my words off in mid-sentence.
"Good God, Jeremy, you don't even know half of what I went
through after Piper was born.  You have no idea of some of
the ideas and thoughts I had in my mind.  It was very scary,
and I do not want to go through that again."
   "Tell me of those thoughts," I simply requested.  "You
know that I have always been here for you, Pamela."
   Distraught, she shook her head again.  "You have six kids,
Jeremy.  Soon to be seven with Scarlett's baby due in a
few weeks.  Why ask me?  If you want to have another, ask
Trish.  Ask Lindsay.  Lindsay will have ten babies with you
if you let her.  Why ask me?"
   "Because I want to have another child with YOU," I
answered, to which she growled like an animal.  "Wouldn't
you like to have a boy?  A true brother for Piper?  Not a
half-brother like Kaden or Jackson, but a true brother.
Or even a sister for her?  Just think of two little Pipers
running around the house, causing all sorts of trouble..."
   Pamela was crying now.  "STOP IT, Jeremy!"
   But suddenly, I was upset too.  "And what about these...
thoughts, that you speak of?  What thoughts did you have 
that you never told me?"  Actually, I was angry now.  And 
Pamela knew it.  She could hear it in my voice.  "I was there 
for you every step of the way, Pamela.  You... you held back 
from me?  I have never held anything back from you."
   Pamela's mouth dropped open, but then she stood up with a
kicking and screaming Piper in her arms.  "We are NOT having
this discussion right now, Jeremy!"  Pamela wiped at her
influx of tears with a fist as Piper was still upset, having
witnessed her parents engage in an argument.  "You are NOT
going to try and guilt me into anything!  STOP being so fu...
FLIPPING selfish!  Everyone wants me to get pregnant again, 
yet no one seems to ask - OR EVEN CARE - about my thoughts 
on the subject!  No.  No way.  Go get Lindsay pregnant ten 
more times if you have the urge to do so!  NOT ME!"
   "I don't get you..." I said, fighting the frustration and
trying to sound calm as I took a step toward her.  But it was
no use.  Piper wailed out at the top of her lungs as Pamela
took her and brushed past me, abruptly leaving the bedroom.
   I stood there in the sordid aftermath, trying to figure
out how our conversation had gotten derailed so badly.  Did
I actually just make Pamela cry?  My own wife?  Oh God... I
did.  And I was never going to forgive myself for it, either.  
As upset as I was, I certainly did not want Pamela to cry.
   "Pamela!" I called out and began to go after her, wanting
to apologize and talk things over, but then a new series of
screams broke out from elsewhere in the bedroom.  I turned
toward Ariel's crib and, without her seeing me, threw a
split-second temper tantrum.  No matter how much I wanted to
find and correct whatever went wrong with Pamela, I could not
leave an upset and crying Ariel here all by her lonesome.
   Thus, I put on my _happy Dad face_ and went over to the
crib.  "Oh, Ariel!  What's wrong, sweetie?  Did all that
noise wake you up?  Oh... Daddy is here now.  It's okay.
Yeah, I know.  I know, honey, and I'm sorry.  I'm so, so
sorry.  That Piper can be a loud one when she's upset."
   Suddenly, I was holding a crying, pink pajama-wearing
Ariel in my arms.  Eventually, I was able to get her to
settle down.  She looked warm and cozy in my arms while I,
still fretting about Pamela, felt disturbed and exhausted...


                <<<- End of Chapter 11 ->>>


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