[[[-IF6-P15.TXT-]]] ---------------- Island Fever 6: Sanctuary Written by: JeremyDCP@hotmail.com M/F, F/F and a whole lot more ---------------- Chapter 15: "Yuletide" ------------------------------------------- -*- Monday, December 19, 2016 -*- -*- Sandvika, Norway -*- *** Two months after the events of the previous chapter *** "Good afternoon, everyone, and happy holidays to all!" I announced with overexaggerated vigor, stepping into the dining room at our home here in Sandvika. "I am donning my ugly Christmas sweater, but it's really not that ugly. It's kind of like, I am a present. Krissy, I am a present to you." Kristanna had her back to me, leaning over and tending to our two-year-old son, Kaden, but could not conceal her giggly smile when she turned to face me. The Christmas sweater I had on, to be brutally honest, was hideous. It had blue sleeves, a mixture of brown and green flannel across the top, a huge orange bow design in the middle, red flannel and yellow on the bottom, and a thick white stripe around the center. Oh, and a red and white collar. It was the ugliest Christmas sweater I had ever seen, bar none. "Here is my present to you!" I laughed, moving behind Kristanna and snuggling her with both arms. "Oh my gosh!" she chuckled in response. I frowned. "Where's your ugly Christmas sweater?" Kristanna, who was wearing all black with her blonde hair done up in a stylish bun, wiped Kaden's face with a wet napkin as he was nearly finished eating his lunch. "I'm not accepting any presents from you until Christmas Day." I grinned and tilted my head back and forth several times in succession. "You'll be accepting my present later tonight, trust me." The sexual overtones thick and heavy with those words, it was obvious that I was in quite the jovial mood. Kristanna screeched, then reached back and playfully slapped my shoulder. "Oh Jeremy, you're awful!" I focused upon Ariel, our nine-month-old daughter, who was seated in her high chair next to Kaden at the dining room table. "What you got there, sweetie?" In front of her was a plate of finely diced grilled cheese and mashed beans. Ariel squealed and made happy baby noises. "That looks yummy!" But Kaden actually snatched part of his sister's meal. "Hey, that's not nice," I scolded him. "You know better than that, buddy. You have your own plate. Don't take Ariel's." "I sowwy," he mumbled, eating the grilled cheese anyway. "Kaden, guess what? Do you know what you're doing later today, after lunch? Do you remember?" "Heh, my doc appoint..." "Yeah, you and I are going to the dentist. We're going to make sure that everything is cool with your tooth." Unfortunately, one of Kaden's baby teeth had gotten to the point over the past few weeks where it was a bit discolored. It was sort of brownish. We contacted our family dentist, and he suggested bringing Kaden in for a check-up to find out what the problem is, and fix it. Naturally, I was very concerned about it. What if he had a horrible infection? "Does your tooth hurt at all?" "No," Kaden told me. "Are you tough?" "Yes!" He put his finger in his mouth and pointed at the offending tooth. "For the innigooddid, for this oww!" "You're looking forward to going to the dentist for your tooth?" I said, deciphering his toddler speech with ease. "Yeah!" "That's a good boy," I nodded. "Might even be fun." Kristanna was now on her hands and knees underneath the dining room table, retrieving Ariel's pacifier. "Krissy, seriously... you need to go put on your ugly sweater," I told her. "Then you could be a gift to ME!" "No!" Kristanna laughed, defiant. My stomach was rumbling, though, and I heard sizzling noises emanating from the nearby kitchen. Someone must be in there, cooking! Still in a vibrant mood - actually, I had not been this amped up in quite a long time - I ventured off to the kitchen and found another of my wives, Lindsay, piling ingredients from the refrigerator onto the counter. "Happy Monday, Lindsay!" I greeted her. "You know what they say? The best way to start your day is a kiss from your beautiful wife. Or, in this case, start your lunch." I closed the short distance between us and snagged a quick kiss from Lindsay, who was decked out in a pair of faded denim jeans, a cardigan sweater and a baseball hat. "Hard at work!" Lindsay chimed in response, before going into lyrical verse, "_Foldiers in your cup_? Is that what it is? What they say?" She then scoffed and made a face. "Jeremy... oh my God! What's that? That looks... BAD." "How can you insult my ugly Christmas sweater?" Lindsay made a face again and tried not to laugh, and then shook her head. "You in the mood for turkey or ham?" "Turkey," I responded. I watched Lindsay choose a knife and pull out a cutting board, thinking how nice it was of her to prepare lunch for me today. She began chopping some sort of vegetable. Off to the side, I noticed that there was some bacon in a frying pan. My stomach rumbled again. I listened to the bacon sizzle as Lindsay continued to chop. At the circular kitchen table behind us, seated in a high chair of her own, was Kaylee. Our 10-month-old daughter seemed too preoccupied with her juice bottle to even remotely acknowledge my presence. Still, I went over and kissed her forehead. How could anyone resist a kid this cute? Lindsay moved the pan holding the bacon, causing the air to fill with sizzles and pops. She then turned and gave me a playful glare. "Seriously, Jeremy... you need to ditch that sweater. We need to burn that thing in the fireplace." "How can it be Christmastime without ugly Christmas sweaters?" I protested. Lindsay moved around the kitchen with a calm serenity that I envied. When I cooked, it was as if I was on speed, or my hair was on fire. "I see that you have been getting pointers from Amy, hmmmmm? Going to be a culinary genius like her one day?" "No, I learned this from my mom," Lindsay corrected me. She swished the pan with bacon in it again before mixing something in a bowl. I had no idea what Lindsay was making, but it sure smelled wonderful. "Amy may do the majority of the cooking for us, Jeremy, but I know my way around the kitchen quite well, thank you very much." Lindsay tasted whatever was in the bowl, then added more spices. "Have you talked to your mom yesterday or today?" "No." I frowned, that knowledge putting a temporary damper on my good mood. Meanwhile, Lindsay sampled the mixture once again and set it the side, content with whatever was in it. "Mom still refuses to talk to me even after the whole fiasco with Alison blew over, and is now settled." "That's not right," I grumbled. "But it's Christmastime, and I am not going to let anything get me down this time of year," Lindsay offered, holding her head high. "Yesterday was Trish's 34th birthday and we had a great party for her last night. Nope. Not gonna let anything get me down." Fortunately, Lindsay had finished and came over to the kitchen table with her creation in hand. She seemed very pleased with herself, and it made me smile. "Here you go, baby," Lindsay said, presenting me with the most amazing sandwich I had ever seen. Thick french bread layered with turkey, bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, avocados, cheese and some sort of creamy sauce awaited me. I sat down in the chair directly across from Kaylee, and Lindsay waited for me to take the first bite. I carefully picked up the loaded sandwich and tried it. It was the best sandwich I had ever tasted in my entire life. The vegetables were just the right amount of crispy compared to the bread and meat, and the sauce was some sort of ranch dressing that made all of the other flavors pop. It was like Heaven, but in the form of a sandwich. "This is amazing," I gasped, stuffing another bite into my mouth. Lindsay grinned sweetly, obviously happy as I thoroughly enjoyed her culinary creation. "What time are Pamela and Trish's relatives going to be here tomorrow, again?" Lindsay had waited to ask that question until I started to slow down my bites. "Captain Mike says the plane will touch down in Oslo just before midnight tomorrow. I talked to him a little while ago. He is flying Pamela's mom and dad, her two sisters and their families, up north to Toronto from Baltimore tonight. Then, in the morning, they will all board the family jet with Trish's mom, her two sisters, their families, and they will make their way across the ocean here to Norway." "I'm so glad Pamela and Trish get to spend the holidays with their families," Lindsay mused. "I think it's really awesome, Jeremy, that you're offering to let everyone stay here on the farm with us. There will be family everywhere! And you know what's even better? Pamela's family will be here when she gives birth! Her due date is January 6. And of course, Krissy's mom and dad will be here a lot, too, as will Amy's. It's so awesome everyone will be together!" "I just wish your mom was on the flight, too." "Well, she's not," my young bride deadpanned. "No worries; Mom will get over being angry at us. Eventually. Hopefully." Lindsay's blue eyes were clear and beautiful in the yellow light of the kitchen. They weren't quite as bright as usual, however, as dark shadows threatened to overtake them and haunt her face. Try as she might to convince me otherwise, but I knew for a fact that Lindsay was still very upset that her mother still refused to talk to her, let alone allow her back into her life. Alison's motives for the affair she had with our family was clear and out in the open now, but Leslie - Lindsay and Alison's mother - decided it would be best to wash her hands clean of the whole situation. Not only had she shut Alison out of her life, but Lindsay as well. "I spoke to Alison yesterday on the telephone." "Oh?" I raised my eyebrows at her. "How did that go?" "Alison is still whining and pining about not being with us anymore, so I had to make it clear to her - again - that she will never be welcomed back into our family after what she did." Lindsay shook her head. "Ali found a sugar daddy on the Internet, though, up near Columbus. Says she is going to move in with him and attend college at Ohio State. This dude is gonna pay for her tuition and give her free rent in exchange for," Lindsay hesitated, looking at our daughter, then chose her words carefully, "...certain favors." "I gave Alison a million dollars when we sent her home," I said. "What does she need a sugar daddy for?" Lindsay shrugged her shoulders. "You got me. I stopped trying to understand her after she betrayed us. I imagine this guy, who is older, will be rough and tumble with Ali, treat her harshly. It's what she wants. But I worry. She is my sister, and I still love her. I worry about what she is doing, the situations she is putting herself into." "I know you do." "Daddy... SNOW!" I glanced behind me and found Piper, my two-year-old daughter with Pamela, staring back at me with big brown eyes, clutching a teddy bear in her hand. "Snow? Do you want to see the snow, honey?" Piper nodded her head enthusiastically as I stood and lifted the toddler into my arms. I was not quite finished with my sandwich, but it would be here when I got back. I exited the kitchen and went through the dining room, then into the central room and over to the large picture window facing the snow-covered front yard, still holding Piper in my arms. The sight outside was something I would never tire of - our front yard was cheery and festive; lit up like Las Vegas, and it was blanketed with a thick covering of snow. Kristanna, Lindsay and Amy were tireless at the start of December, adding white lights and wreaths to the evergreens, and a Santa sleigh on the porch. Every year, Trish insisted that a giant wreath be hung on the front door. Pamela even coerced me into climbing up a ladder in the bitter cold and adding lights along the roof line. But I did not complain. This year, I may even admit that I enjoyed doing it. "Look at that, Piper," I said, my voice full of awe. "Wow! Do you see that? Look at all of the snow!" My little girl was fascinated with the wintry wonderland outside. Earlier this morning, I even took her out sledding in it. Pamela approached us at the window, holding her index finger to her lips. "Dylan is finally sleeping," she whispered, snuggling up to my side. Dylan, of course, was my youngest child at eight months. His mother was Scarlett. "Dylan sheep too much!" Piper exclaimed, frowning. "It just seems that way, honey," Pamela said, tapping Piper's nose. "But little babies like Dylan need a lot more sleep than a big girl like you does." I took a step back and was nearly floored at how insanely gorgeous Pamela appeared to me right now. She was absolutely, positively glowing - 36 weeks pregnant and more beautiful to me now than ever before. Her blonde hair was full and bouncy, and she wore a pink top that hugged every subtle curve of her upper torso. Those large, overflowing breasts, her bountiful, blossoming belly; all of it was on luscious display. She also wore a pair of white stretch leggings, and red slippers. "I love you, Jeremy," Pamela offered with a glittering smile and a sparkle in her brown eyes, as she pinched my side. Pamela knew full well that I had been admiring her beauty. "Love you too, sweetheart," I returned, placing a kiss on Pamela's soft mouth. Kissing Pamela was something I never grew tired of. In fact, it was what I intended on spending a long time doing later tonight. I wanted to ravish Pamela from head to toe in her final few weeks of pregnancy. "Where Scarwit?" Piper wondered. "Scarlett went with Aunt Devon to go and see the doctor," Pamela advised her. "Oh? Do you miss Scarlett, sweet P? Do you miss Devon? Don't worry... they will be home soon enough. Devon had to go and see the doctor." "Devon... okay?" "Ohhhhh," Pamela fretted, touched by our daughter. "Devon is fine, honey. She is fine. She will be home soon." Pamela leaned in and kissed Piper on the cheek. "You're so sweet!" I agreed, of course, but silently thought that Pamela was much sweeter. I had so much respect and admiration for my wife (Pammy!). The girl left her family behind in Nottingham, Maryland and devoted herself to our family, our way of life, here thousands of miles away in Norway. Pamela worked hard to straighten her life out and change her viewpoints on certain things and, to top it all off, she even married a buffoon like me. We had a daughter in Piper and, a few weeks from now, she and I would welcome our newborn son, Peyton. I truly knew what the meaning of unconditional love was now. And because of Pamela, as well as the rest of my wives, I had also learned that holiday miracles do come true. * * * "Would you like to help?" I shook my head just to be safe. I had no idea what Amy was doing. I had just gotten home from taking Kaden to the dentist and, after leaving him with Kristanna and Lindsay, I happened upon Amy here in the kitchen. She looked sexy as hell in jeans and a snug-fitting sweater, her red hair up in a pony-tail and her cheeks rosy from... I had no idea what. "I would be glad to help you, sweetheart, if I knew what you were doing," I offered, planting a kiss upon her lips. "Excellent!" Amy chirped, thrusting an apron in my direction. "I'm BAKING, Jeremy. We have plenty of company arriving here tomorrow night - Pamela's family, Trish's family - and we don't have any treats in this house." She sidestepped me and took out a tray of cookies from the oven. "Is Dani Grace sleeping?" It was a good assumption that she was, because Amy rarely let our 16-month-old daughter out of her sight if she was awake at all. Amy nodded. "Yep, but she should be waking up from her nap pretty soon. How was Kaden's dentist appointment?" "Things actually went really, really great," I responded. The dentist took an X-ray and found out that the pulp inside of Kaden's tooth looked really good, but there is just some blood... his tooth, it kind of has a bruise. Yeah, a bruise. So Kaden's tooth isn't dead, the root looks good, and the dentist said there may be some more browning, but more than likely it will lighten back up. We have to keep an eye on whether there is any pain or swelling, or bleeding, over the next few months, but the dentist said he doesn't think we should worry about it. He says Kaden should be fine." Amy nodded again, and smiled. "That's awesome. Sounds like the best case scenario. I bet Krissy is happy." My stomach growled as I made a beeline for the tray filled with cookies. Amy laughed and held up a hand, however, effectively blocking me from savoring any of the delights. "No way. You have to help me. And besides, these have not even been decorated yet." I watched as Amy carefully placed each cookie, one by one, on a cooling rack. "What about these?" I picked up a box filled with chocolate chip cookies that featured red and green sparkles. I flipped open the lid and was ready to indulge, but... Amy had to pry the box from my hands. "These are for Captain Mike. You can give them to him tomorrow night at the airport when you go to pick up Pamela and Trish's family." Amy placed the lid back on the box. "Why are you making Captain Mike cookies?" Amy sighed and adjusted her apron. Man, that was sure distracting. I rather just Amy take her apron off, as well as the remainder of her clothing. "Because when he called earlier and I spoke with him, I told him I was going to make Christmas cookies, and he asked if I could make some for him and his two wives." "Mike? Our family pilot?" I did not think I had ever seen Mike eat a cookie. Did he... really need cookies? Amy nodded, hands on her hips. "Apparently he likes red and green sparkles on his cookies." "Red and green sparkles?" Amy nodded, this time a smile breaking. "Yes." "He doesn't need cookies. Mike has been married to Carolyn and Barbara for 28 years, and I am certain they fix him whatever his little heart desires. I, on the other hand, was a lonely, neglected soul who spent 16 years alone on an island, so the cookies are mine." I was trying to be funny, laughing it up, and Amy shook her head. "I did not have anyone to make me cookies for 16... LONG... YEARS." "All right, Sensitive Sally, roll up your sleeves and help me make these cookies. Time to man up!" I stared at her, trying not to grin. "Did you just call me Sensitive Sally?" "I did!" Amy confirmed, giggling. "Krissy was right about you. Whenever you become overly emotional and deflated, and want to cry, you're Sensitive Sally. That's your new name." "I don't like the sound of that," I chuckled. "I don't like the sound of that," Amy repeated, but in a deep, baritone voice. A grumpy voice. She was imitating me. "Hmmmmm," I rumbled at her, already plotting my revenge. "So, you want me to help you? I don't know anything about cookies, except eating them." "You afraid?" she taunted me, pouting for emphasis. Amy's hands were in the bowl, and the batter looked quite thick and doughy. I was never one to back down from a challenge. "You're the one who should be afraid, missy," I countered, smiling as she laughed. I took off my long coat and rolled up my sleeves. "So, what do I do?" "We're going to roll this out and then make different Christmas shapes. Since Krissy let her mom borrow my cookie cutters a few days ago, we have to make them by hand." I frowned. "Christmas shapes?" I watched as Amy rolled the dough until it was thin and smooth. Then, she sighed at me. "Christmas trees, bells, angels... you know, anything that has to do with Christmas!" "Right," I said with a decisive nod. I grabbed a piece of the dough and concentrated on making a tree, while the sound of Christmas carols floated through the kitchen. Amy had a small radio and was listening to some holiday tunes. She took a moment to scoff at me. "Jeremy, that sweater you have on... it needs to go. It's REALLY ugly." Then, Amy broke out into a shriek of hysterical laughter. "OH MY GOD! WHAT _IS_ THAT? It looks like some sort of alien!" I glanced downward at the cookie I was making. It did resemble an alien! Defeated, I frowned and looked over at her cookie. Sure enough, Amy made a perfectly shaped tree. There was only one course of action for me to take... "Amy," I said, grabbing her by the waist, not caring that both of our hands were plastered with cookie dough as she willingly stepped into my arms. Oh, my beloved Christmas sweater... I would need to change into something else! "I'm sorry about those poor cookies." I leaned down and captured her warm, soft lips. Amy kissed me back easily and lovingly. "You've been sampling cookies yourself," I said inbetween kisses, tasting their remnants on her lips and in her mouth. Amy pulled me even closer, tugging at the back of my neck, and soon enough I was debating whether or not she would become upset if I swept all the cookie dough off of the kitchen counter and made love to her right then and there. But, there was a more important topic at hand. "Can I ask you something?" "You're actually asking my permission?" she returned with a teasing smile. "Of course," I said, making a subtle attempt at snatching a cookie. "I try to be a gentleman... at times." But Amy swatted my hand away. "No cookie!" "How's your dad doing?" My wife frowned. "He's fine. They're running tests at the doctor's office. I started looking up what each test is for, but I stopped when each one scared me more than the prior one." She busied herself with plucking apart the gobs of dough I had grouped together on the cookie pan. "I'm sorry, honey." "I just cannot imagine life without Dad anymore." Amy's breath caught. "I mean, I know I'll have to eventually, but I always imagined it when I'm old, and Dani Grace is all grown up. This has been the best year of my life, with our family getting more and more settled, and growing, and Mom and Dad moving here to Norway and coming back into my life for the first time in years. I want everything to continue!" "It will," I promised her. "For a long time, it will. The doctors seem to think that your father is in good shape. All of these tests he is getting, they are just routine." Two weeks ago to the day, in fact, Robert - Amy's father - suffered a mild heart attack that was brought on by an arrhythmia. Amy and her mother, Kathleen, saw to it that Robert was rushed to the hospital here in Sandvika via an ambulance and given immediate care. The fine doctors and staff at the medical facility were able to stabilize his heart and return it to a sustainable rhythm without too much damage being done. He was in the hospital for three days and got a pacemaker installed during a surgical procedure this past Friday. Everything went well, and his prognosis is excellent. Still, his little girl is scared. "Hi, Daddy," Amy whispered two weeks ago, kneeling at Robert's bedside in the hospital several hours after he suffered the heart attack. He had wires and monitoring equipment attached to him, but Amy took solace in the fact that her father had on the same pajamas she had bought for him as a birthday present. Robert was also fast asleep. I watched as Amy first stifled a sob, then kissed his hand and held it to her cheek. She closed her eyes at the steady pulse of his heart through her wrist. "Don't leave me, Daddy," she begged. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." But that was two weeks ago, and all seemed fine now. And I had total faith that Robert was going to be fine. "How come your parents haven't used any of the money I gave them? Medical costs are really high." "They haven't needed it." She shrugged her shoulders. "They haven't needed it?" I was trying to be patient. Amy shook her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and I had to stifle a pang of arousal at the scent of her shampoo. She averted her eyes. "I charged all of the bills to one of my cards." "It's ridiculous for you to charge the medical costs to your credit card when I flat-out gave them more than enough money to cover any expenses. That makes no sense whatsoever." Amy lifted her chin. "You know how Dad is, Jeremy. He does not want any hand-outs from you. But from me? I talked him into it. I suppose it is the principal of the whole thing for him. Besides, Dad gave me all of the money you gave him back. I put it back in your bank, where it belongs." "Why would you charge it to your credit card, though?" Amy smiled. "To get Air Miles, Jeremy. Duh..." Air Miles. I took a deep breath. Amy was teasing me. Still, I needed to count to ten. "Planning on a trip?" She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "Not really. But I'll bring you along if I go somewhere." "That's good to know," I conceded. My cell phone rang. It took me a moment to register what the interruption was. I leaned down to give Amy one more kiss, absolutely loving how disheveled she looked. "Who is that?" Amy asked, trying to straighten out her clothes as she glanced at the caller ID. I put the telephone back in my pocket. "Just a business associate of mine. I can talk to him later." Amy stood there and beamed at me, looking happy and content. "Want to go Christmas shopping?" Amy's green eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry. I could have sworn that you just asked me to go Christmas shopping. I thought you did all of your holiday shopping online, or overnight when there are no crowds? You hate big groups of people." I stole a cookie from the box and promptly bit into it. "Don't know why, but I feel like shopping today. You, me, Dani Grace." I looked down at the cookie. "These are pretty good, actually. I really don't think Captain Mike needs six of them. Two is more than enough - one for Carolyn, one for Barbara. Mike can have the alien cookie. Give it to him." "Jeremy!" Amy protested, laughing. * * * "Hi, this is Kristanna [Last Name]," my wife said into her cell phone several hours later that very same afternoon. "I just received my _Carter's and Oshkosh_ order in the mail today and when I opened it up, on the sheet of what I ordered, none of that is actually in the box. There are a lot of girl clothes in the box, but unfortunately, I had ordered nothing but boy clothes for my two-year-old son." "I'm sorry about that," came a friendly voice from the other end of the speakerphone. "Let me transfer you to our customer service department, and they will take care of you." "Thank you," Kristanna responded, and then she was on hold. Nirvana. That was the frame of mind that I generally found myself in whenever I was with Kristanna. Even listening to her as she attempted to straighten out a delivery mistake by a children's clothing company from the United States over the telephone was mesmerizing to me. I simply loved being in this woman's mere presence, hearing the soothing sound of her voice. Kristanna was, without a doubt, my greatest form of therapy. Whenever we were together, everything was fine. Kristanna's touch was pure magic and her kisses tasted like sweet nectar, whisking away whatever worries I had. I did not understand why, nor did I care to. All I knew was that my life changed so much when I first met Kristanna nearly eight years ago. Had it really been that long? Eight years? Wow. Kristanna made me feel different. Better. Right. Happy. Nothing ever seemed to stick with me when I was younger. Not women, certainly not my family. Hell, I lived in total isolation on my very own island for 16 years. I was restless and lonely, but then I met Kristanna in January 2009. To this day, kissing Kristanna consumes my body and soul like nothing else can. I want to kiss Kristanna, hold her, protect her, but it is not always so important that I actually have sex with her. I am easily content to simply hold her hand and tell her how incredibly special she is to me. This had probably been one of the best days of my life. I went Christmas shopping earlier with a gorgeous woman at my side in Amy, decked out in a red coat and jeans, holding her giant cup of coffee, with Dani Grace contentedly sitting and behaving in her stroller. Thick, heavy snowflakes tumbled down all around us as we walked along downtown Sandvika and bought countless presents for Pamela and Trish's families. "Hi, this is Kristanna [Last Name] from Sandvika, Norway, and I just received my _Carter's and Oshkosh_ shipment today in the mail, and none of the stuff in it is what I ordered. I was wondering if we could... work this out." "We sure can, and I do apologize about that ma'am." "Dani Grace," I said to my 16-month-old daughter, whom I had hitched up in one arm. "Can you sing _Jingle Bells_?" Dani Grace went into a sweet, little verse of toddler babble that was downright adorable. "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way..." I tried coaching her. "Sing it," Kristanna encouraged, still on the telephone. Dani Grace gave it her best shot again, but of course her words came out mostly incoherent. She was just too young, but still loved to sing and babble regardless. Kaden, playing next to us on the floor, went into some babbling of his own, but ended it with, "Vader!" I smiled at him. "What?" "Mogefee Vader," he said. "Vader?" I gasped at him. "DARTH VADER?" "I think SOMEONE is still excited over that movie he saw yesterday," Amy commented, sitting with us as well. She leaned over and pecked Kaden's cheek with a kiss. "Shredder want this one," Kaden cooed, putting a stuffed chew toy at the front paws of the family dog. Shredder picked up the toy with his mouth, circled around a few times, and then rolled back onto the floor in happy dog bliss. Speaking of movies, Pamela - displaying some humor - sent me a text last evening that I found... unique. I would expect such a text from Kristanna (considering her off-the-wall personality), but not Pamela. I was out with Scarlett, and received this precious gem from Pamela via my cell phone: "Piper and I just watched a movie where a man's wife is brutally murdered by a serial killer and his son is left physically disabled. In a twisted turn of events, his son is kidnapped and he has to chase the kidnapper for thousands of miles with the help of a mentally disabled woman." "Uhhhhh," was my initial response for her. Why was my two-year-old daughter watching such a movie? "What is the movie called?" was my follow-up text. "_Finding Nemo_," Pamela responded. which made me laugh and shake my head. And thus, all was right again... Amy reached out and tickled Dani Grace's stomach with her fingers. "Hi, honey! Look at you! Is that belly ticklish?" Amy laughed and added, "Is it TICKLISH? Dani Grace, are you looking forward to watching _Mickey's Once Upon a Christmas_ later tonight?" Amy suddenly gasped. "MICKEY MOUSE will be in it! You love Mickey Mouse, don't you? Yeah, you do. We are going to watch that later, sweetie. Mommy and Daddy, all of your brothers and sisters, Krissy, Pamela, Devon, Trish, Lindsay and Scarlett too. Even Grandma and Grandpa will be here! Do you love Grandma and Grandpa?" "Yes!" she blurted out. "Love Linny!" "Awwwww," Amy sighed, grinning. "Lindsay loves you too!" I showered Dani Grace's face with kisses. "I love you too, honey. Don't forget about me!" Kaden crawled forward and even kissed Dani Grace's forehead. "Awwwww," Amy repeated. "Kaden! That was so nice! Do you love Dani Grace? Your little sister?" Kaden got all red-faced, yet nodded his head regardless. "KADEN was just in trouble a bit ago," I told Amy, but then turning to my son. "Do you know why you were in trouble?" "Why?" he countered. "Do you know what you did?" "Why?" "What did you do to make Mommy and Daddy upset with you?" "Hmmmmm... not eat the cookie." "Yes, you ate the cookies without asking, and we already told you no. We told you no before." "It's kind of a cute story, though," Kristanna chimed in, still on the telephone. Apparently, she was back on hold. "It was," I agreed, glancing at Amy. "Kaden and I already had our talk about it, though. So I went downstairs with Kaden, and we were talking about it for a bit, and I said..." "Kaden got put in the corner for a minute," Kristanna mused. "And I said... do you know why we were upset with you? And Kaden says... why? So I tell him, because you did not listen to Mommy and Daddy, and you STILL ate the cookie when we told you not to. And once we resolved everything, I told Kaden, I love you. I want you to listen to Mommy and Daddy from now on, and he gave me a big hug, and says... YOU HAPPY NOW?" I broke out into a round of laughter. "You happy now?" "Yeah!" Kaden chirped. "You happy now, Daddy?" "That's his biggest concern, and it's so cute," Kristanna told Amy. "When we get after Kaden and he has a time out, or we raise our voice, or we're stern or whatever... when we get upset with Kaden, the first thing he says is... you happy now? And most of the time, I say yes. But then he wants to know is Daddy happy? Is Ariel happy? Is Piper happy? And sometimes, if I am really not happy, I am like no, I am STILL not happy... you did not listen to me. WELL, DADDY HAPPY?" Kristanna laughed. "Kaden wants to make sure that we are happy. And we are, wild man. You're a good boy." "But you're just a little toddler, like Shredder was once a little puppy," I said to Kaden. "Sometimes, you just can't help but to chew and gnaw at certain things." "Jeremy!" Kristanna scoffed. "And eat cookies when you're not supposed to," I added. "Wow." Amy seemed amused. "But I really cannot blame Kaden here, Krissy. I just can't. He was just taking after his father. Everyone knows that Jeremy is the cookie monster!" I shot Amy an evil eye, but it was still in good fun. "He hijacked almost an entire batch that I made earlier!" * * * Devon gasped and sat up in bed the following morning when I opened the door without warning. Entering the master bedroom in nothing more than a light-colored pair of pajama pants, I carried a breakfast tray with coffee, fruit and pastries, and smiled at my wife as she was finally awake. "Hi?" Devon said groggily. "I just woke up." I chuckled and put the tray down on the bedside table. "I can see that. And it's about time." I poured Devon a cup of hot coffee, which she accepted gratefully. Then I stood by the bed with my own coffee and gazed down at her, trying my best to control my expression. I had emotions of love and admiration swirling about because Devon was so special and precious to me, but amusement threatened to overtake them. My lips twitched visibly as my eyes scanned her face and body. It was all I could do to keep from laughing. Devon frowned. "Is something wrong?" "Of course not." I got into bed beside her and propped myself up on the pillows. Reclining beside me, Devon peered at my expression. "You were laughing at me." "I was doing nothing of the sort." "You were too! You still are." Devon seemed to quickly contemplate the various possibilities as to what prompted my teasing amusement. "Did I snore or something?" Laughing, I draped an arm around Devon and pulled her tight against my side. "Both you and I know, sweetheart, that if you snored... the other girls would never let you hear the end of it. So no... you didn't snore." Devon snuggled in even closer and sipped her coffee. The mood between us was light and easy, which was always the best way to start the day with Devon. These past few months had been especially difficult for the family as a whole as Devon sorted through the demons from her past and how they interacted with her life (and still haunted it) in the current day. "I didn't sleep in THAT late," Devon remarked, glancing at the digital alarm clock. 9:56am. "When did you wake up?" "Hours ago," I answered. "Anything new and exciting going on this morning? What have you been up to?" "Pamela and I took a walk earlier. Made my rounds with all of the kids and helped them wake up." I handed Devon the basket of pastries, and she picked out a truly decadent one. "Been checking on you for the past hour-and-a-half. Finally, this time, I was going to wake you up if you weren't already. I wanted the doughnuts Amy made to still be fresh for you." "I never have been a morning person," Devon admitted after she had swallowed her first bite. "Hmmmmm... thank you." "How was your visit with the psychiatrist yesterday? Did Scarlett sit in during your session again?" "I always feel good and reassured about everything in life after I go to see Dr. Jensen every week. And yes, Scarlett was there for my therapy session. She was a big help." Things had simply not been the same for our family since the end of September, when we learned that Devon had been sexually molested as a child by her father from the ages of four through 18. She had done a remarkable job repressing and sealing those horrific memories away for the past 12 years, but they were brought back to the immediate forefront when Devon and I went back to her hometown in Pennsylvania after a medical scare involving her mother. Many of us, myself included, were totally ignorant on the mere concept of childhood sexual abuse and had no clue what to say to Devon, or how best to comfort and console her. I seemed to have taken on the label as protector of the family over the years. Kristanna may be the matriarch, but perhaps I was the protector. After all, it was my mindset. I shielded Pamela and reeled her back in to us in the past. I saw to it that Amy got the help that she so desperately needed. I was always there for Lindsay whenever she needed guidance. Trish, Scarlett, even Kristanna. I did not realize it at the time, but my actions following Devon's admittance of the demons from her past actually did more harm than good. I went about my standard route of protecting and shielding her, but it ultimately blew up in my face. On October 16, back when our family was vacationing on the island, I triggered something awful within Devon when I was somewhat angry at her for refusing to have sex with me the night before. During that same conversation, I insinuated that it was high time that she held true to her promise from weeks earlier, and begin work on having a baby with me. Devon apparently cycled through several emotions that day and on into the evening, a series of dramatic high and lows, ups and downs, that left her feeling both mentally and physically sick. The powder keg eventually exploded in the overnight hours when another demon from Devon's past made its return. Distraught and confused, Devon cut her right arm with a butcher knife and bled so much that she had to be rushed to the hospital, and nearly _died_. She lost that much blood. Even though Devon survived, our vacation was over, and the family was flying back home to Norway two days later. We had since learned, through medical intervention and therapy, that Devon battled a disorder known as nonsuicidal self injury (NSSI) while she was growing up. When she was younger, Devon would actually cut herself with a knife or sharp object and use the wound as a coping mechanism to help relieve the emotional and physical pain she felt after her father had violated her. Devon never had any true intentions of seriously injuring herself and/or committing suicide, yet the behavior was very disruptive, and quite concerning. Devon had not cut herself since her teen years and escaping the evil clutches of her father, but then came that fateful night on the island. The psychiatrist and others believe it was brought on by everything - her past, her memories, dealing with the emotions of her suddenly sick mother - caving in all around her at once, causing Devon to panic and find comfort with her old way of coping. Me? I felt as if was my fault. If I handled the situation differently, was more lenient and tolerant with my feelings, my expectations for Devon, she would have never harmed herself. It's as simple as that. Devon cut into the brachial artery on her right forearm and lost three pints of blood before we could get her to the hospital 130 miles away on the mainland. As a result, Devon went into hypovolemic shock and needed an immediate blood transfusion which ultimately saved her life. She did not intend for the wound to be that serious, but must have sliced into the affected artery at just the right (or wrong) angle. Whatever the case, we had taken steps since then as a family to ensure that Devon would never harm herself again. Ever. Devon really seemed to hit it off and found a level of trust and comfort with her psychiatrist, Dr. Jensen, once we returned to the homefront here in Norway. I had yet to meet Dr. Jensen, unfortunately, as Devon preferred that Scarlett be the lone spouse who accompanies her to most, if not all, of the therapy sessions. It was fine, actually. Devon and Scarlett had always been quite close, and all that really mattered to me was that Devon was happy and content again, and felt safe. Basically, her old self. She was making great strides toward it. No one was ever going to hurt her again. I was not going to allow it. Lost in my thoughts, I looked at Devon. "What were we talking about, again?" "You were asking about my trip to see Dr. Jensen yesterday," Devon chuckled. "The visit was good and productive." "Oh, I am glad about that." "Me too." Devon and I relaxed and lounged around in comfortable silence until she asked, "Why did you bring me breakfast in bed? Usually, Amy is the one who does this." My eyes had since drifted from Devon's lovely face to her bare arms and shoulders, then lingered on the outline of her breasts and tight nipples through the thin fabric of her teal and black chemise. "Because I wanted to be the first person that you saw today when you woke up." I made eye contact with her and smiled, "I prefer it that way." "Are Pamela and Trish's families en route to us now?" Devon asked, chewing on a grape. But then, she answered her own question. "Oh, wait. It must be four o'clock in the morning in Canada. They're not flying yet." Devon took a deep breath. "Tell me about Captain Mike." Hmmmmm? The family pilot? "Where exactly was it that you found him?" "I found him through a referral," I answered. "Could not be more grateful, either. He is the perfect pilot for our family, our family jet. Him and his two wives, and their friend the co-pilot, Craig. They will drop whatever they are doing on a moment's notice and take us anywhere in the world that we want. Or, in this case, bring family to us. And with their unique family situation - a three-way marriage - we do not have to hide our lifestyle while in their presence." "What's Mike's background?" Devon liked and respected the quiet and reserved pilot, but had not had many interactions with him in the past. She seemed genuinely curious about him, though, and I was more than happy to fill her in. "He was an American fighter pilot during the Gulf War and is very proud of the way he helped defend his country. He has known Carolyn and Barbara since they were all very young, and started dating Carolyn in high school. One day, Carolyn admitted to Mike that she is bisexual and actually has a female lover - Barbara, her very own sister. Barbara, it seemed, was very attracted to Mike at the time, too. And thus a three-way relationship started, and Mike has been married to them both for the past 28 years. Carolyn and Barbara are married to each other as well. They uprooted and moved from the United States to Oslo about five years ago." "You don't just like and respect Mike as your employee," Devon theorized. "Because of his unique relationship, he is someone you look up to. You think of Mike as part of the family. Don't you? 28 years is a long time. You strive for our family to be as happy as his is 28 years from now." Suddenly embarrassed for no good reason, I ducked my head briefly. "Yes, that is something for our family to aim for. 28 years from now, and even beyond." "Mike is like a big brother to you," Devon added. "You look up to him. He is the big brother that you do not have right now, because your brother Dan from Ohio still does not approve of our marriage and the choices you have made in life. And your other brother, Steve from Kentucky, is a lost cause. Am I right? Mike is filling that void for you." "He is," I murmured. "But I... I'm going to call Dan sometime this week and try to talk to him. I will try and call my sister Di too, I think. It's Christmastime, after all. I wish my relationship with them could be better." Devon seemed saddened that her words had put a sudden damper on my holiday spirits. The quickest way to bring me down, no matter the situation, was to remind me of the estrangement I had with Dan and Di and, to a lesser extent, my own mother. None of them approved of my group marriage and lifestyle; Dan and Di, I believed, thought of me as the devil. At least my mother was somewhat tolerable of it. Family had always been very important to me, and I felt great pain and remorse that I did not get along with my big brother and big sister. No matter what I tried, they always shot me down. I wish my mom had a more prominent role in my life, too. I wish her and Dad were not separated. I wish... Devon was silent for a moment, perhaps thinking of ways to cheer me up, then reached over to take my coffee cup out of my hand and put both hers and mine on the nightstand beside us. Next, Devon moved over top of me, straddling my lap as I relaxed against the thick, comfortable pillows. My eyes widened in both pleasure and surprise. "I guess this means that you've had enough breakfast?" She smiled at me and offered her most seductive look. "More than enough. How are you feeling?" "I feel fine. What do you mean?" "I mean, are you in a playful mood? Are you up to... enjoying the morning this way? With me?" I chuckled. "I could never turn down such temptation, with a reward so great." Giggling at my choice of words, Devon kissed me, and I tasted coffee on her lips and the slight tang of grapes. My arms moved around Devon immediately, pulling her lovingly upon my chest. We kissed for quite a long time, slowly, deeply, moving our mouths against each other and sliding our tongues about. Her body was warm and lithe over mine, and I loved the feel of her taut, supple flesh against my skin. Sensations popped and sizzled. Devon moved her hands to my hair and tangled her fingers in it. Fortunately, the sex life that I once enjoyed so much with Devon had made a comeback of its own in the past two weeks. Perhaps this could be another positive step for her in the ongoing process of healing and recovery? After a few moments, my body began to tense beneath her, and Devon enjoyed the feel of my erection growing against her. The 30-year-old tore her mouth away and grabbed the fabric of her chemise so she could pull it over her head. She was wearing nothing underneath; her tiny and slender 5-foot-3, 105 pound frame, yet a full D-cup breast size, on glorious display. Good God, this woman was beautiful. Devon seemed thrilled as I hungrily stared at her naked body. There was no hesitation or even a millisecond of fear or trepidation (i.e. a flashback to her childhood), which was excellent. I was always on the lookout for such things with Devon nowadays. I lifted my wife up by the waist until I could take one of her luscious breasts into my mouth. Devon moaned and screeched as I teased her into even greater need and arousal. She had always been very responsive to others paying proper homage to her breasts and nipples. When my fondling and kissing became too much for her to withstand, Devon pulled away and yanked my pajama pants down. My erection freed, Devon took it into both hands and squeezed generously. She stroked my length with her thumbs before rubbing the palm of her right hand in small circles over the very tip of my shaft. My body convulsed at first touch, and then I let out a low, guttural sound of pleasure. After a moment of teasing and frigging, Devon silently positioned herself above me and exhaled with deep passion as she sank down and allowed to me into her heavenly sheath. I reached out and gathered her in another deep, blissful kiss, and she began to rock upon me slowly. The rhythm of our kiss soon matched the rhythm of our bodies, and I was shocked that something so simple, a motion so gentle, could bring me to orgasm so quickly. But then again, I reminded myself, I was with Devon. There were so many extenuating circumstances at play with her, but the simple fact of the matter was that I wanted to make Devon happy and feel safe. Any happiness that she felt or received as a result of me was magnified ten-fold, at least in my book, compared to any of my other wives. All I wanted to do was make Devon smile. Devon's muscles began to tense after a few moments as well and she grew very tight around my penetration. She tossed her head back, breaking off our kiss at last. Devon panted out with silly huffs of effort and extreme pleasure as she rode me much more urgently than before. Devon's blue eyes were trained on me - hot and possessive - as she bounced on my lap until the tension finally became too much for me, and was unleashed. I shifted to faster, harder bucks of my hips as my cock filled Devon's precious, fertile womb with its seed. At the same time, sensations of climax pulsed through Devon and she slumped forward against my chest. Panting against my mouth, Devon squeezed a hand down between our bodies and rubbed her clitoris with my shaft still embedded within her. I caught her mouth again for a kiss as I did my best to move and grind up into her during the aftermath, her inner muscles contracting tight against me. But things settled down shortly thereafter, and Devon, sated and exhausted, groaned against my neck. Thank the high heavens above that slowly but surely, my wife was returning. It had been a long and hard process, even grueling, but I had faith that the end result would be nothing short of spectacular. Devon and I were eventually going to be closer than ever before. I held Devon for a few moments, but then nudged at her gently so I could pull out. She stifled a groan of reluctance as she rolled off of me. We had not spoken since our initial kiss. "I wasn't expecting that this morning." Devon broke out into a burst of laughter, which was music to my ears. "I wasn't either." I took her into my arms so she was leaning against me. "What do you want to do today?" She smiled against my chest. "I don't know." "Pamela and Trish's families will not be arriving until midnight or so," I said, pressing a kiss upon Devon's hair. "I don't think any of our wives would object if you and I stole a couple of hours alone together, and did something special. Or fun. Want to go and see the new _Star Wars_ movie at the theater?" _Rogue One: A Star Wars Story_ was just released in the theaters a few days ago. I had already seen it twice here at home on DVD, however. I had friends in high places in Hollywood, and could get copies of DVD movies with just a telephone call even before they made it to the theater for initial release. Devon, however, preferred the movie watching experience at the theater when possible. "I'm going to take a shower," Devon murmured, kissing me on the lips and getting out of bed. "I would love to go and see _Star Wars_ with you, Jeremy, but I bet Kaden and Piper would love to go, too. Why don't we ask them? Kaden loved seeing it here at home the other day, remember. That way, at least, Pamela could have a few hours to relax today. I am sure Pamela and that eight month pregnant baby bump of hers would greatly appreciate it if we brought Piper along, too." I smiled up at Devon. She was always thinking of others. "Good plan, sweetheart. Good plan." Devon got up and went into the adjacent washroom. I had since stretched out underneath the covers, enjoying the sweet aftermath of orgasm and the lazy thrill of lying in bed in the morning without having any particular reason to get up. Wow, what a life I led... But soon a little shriek emanated from the washroom and I sat up, concerned. Any little noise of discomfort from Devon was cause for concern. "What's the matter?" I insisted, looking on as she studied herself in the huge vanity mirror. "Why didn't you tell me that my hair looked this bad?" Devon demanded, seemingly horrified by the image in the mirror. Her cheeks were bright red, and she had a sheen of perspiration on her skin. Her breasts a bit too jiggly without the support of a bra. But that was not too bad. Just the result of sex and being undressed. But her hair. HER HAIR. Devon had went to bed with her blonde hair still damp, never a good idea, after a late shower. It had snarled and kinked all throughout the night, and now stuck out all over in wild flips, waves and tangles. Devon was mortified, thinking that she had just had sex with me looking like this. Like she was a cartoon character, and had just stuck her finger in the proverbial electrical socket. "What?" I asked, my lips twitching. How many times had Devon and the other ladies made fun of me for waking up with a serious case of bed-head? Too many times to count, in fact! "I thought it looked nice." Devon tried to huff, but it came out more like a squeak. How utterly adorable. "That's what you were laughing at when you first saw me this morning, Jeremy!" "Certainly not." "Liar!" Devon whimpered somewhat and tried to smooth the tangled mess down, but her hands did absolutely no good. "I knew you were laughing at me! Why didn't you tell me?" I chuckled and got out of the bed, buck naked, and made my way into the washroom with Devon. I wrapped both arms around her from behind and kissed her. "Your hair is the sexiest thing I've ever seen all morning. Why would I laugh at it?" "JEREMY!" she screeched, unable to hold back a giggling fit. <<<- End of Chapter 15 ->>> ==---- -- -- -- - --- -- -- - - --- -- -- --- - -- - - - - --- -- ----== "Island Fever 6: Sanctuary" (c) 2016 JeremyDCP - JeremyDCP@hotmail.com Feedback is always appreciated!