The Song Remains the Same (53 page)

Jason stepped back though and dragged Connor into the knot. Phil and Flipper heartily embraced him, and I could hear the sniffles and gasps coming from them. Since this had nothing to do with me, I grabbed my stuff, which Tiny promptly relieved me of, and headed for the house.

Alys and Lili burst out the front door, followed by Viv and Sheri, who surrounded me in my own knot of grieving humanity.

“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much!” wailed Alys.

“I missed you, too, Muffin.”

Da and Gloria, and Danielle, Martin, and their kids along with everyone from Devil’s Advocate had come together to welcome us home. Mama Sally and Papa David were there, too.

“For th’ love o’ all tha’s holy, Kenna!” griped my father, pulling me in for a papa bear hug. “Yer naugh’ but skin an’ bones!” Taking my face in his hands, he peered into my eyes, finding the-gods-knew-what in them. “Are ye all righ’?”

“Stressed out and exhausted, Da. Don’t worry.”

Phil watched this exchange, guilt crossing his features. He blamed himself for my own condition. In a way, he was right. But it was more to do with the dying piece of life I carried rather than his surly attitude.

The grill was going, and a massive amount of food had been prepared. Never mind that it wasn’t even noon. There was going to be a barbeque, and beers were already making the rounds.

Even though I knew the pregnancy wasn’t going to amount to anything, I declined the alcohol. Phil didn’t. He sucked down a beer in record time and popped open another. With him on the Vicodin, I wasn’t too pleased, but I kept my mouth shut, happy that he was just trying to find a place to be comfortable in.

On our side of the house, Danielle and Gloria had set up the living room for Phil, moving out the sofas and replacing them with a bed. It would be some time before Phil would be able to take the stairs.

Bone-weary by the time evening came, everyone dispersed, and Phil and I ventured into the downstairs bathroom for a mutual shower. The stall was small, made even more so by the stool Phil had to sit on, but it was the first time we’d been naked in front of each other in five weeks.

Helping him out of his clothes and securing plastic wrapping around the cast, I felt that burn that only he could inflame igniting low in my groin. Even in his wasted state, he was still so magnificent to me. His narrow waist was ridiculous, his once flat stomach now caved in, his ribs showing. The width of his chest was thinner, but still…he was larger than life, powerful and so beautiful. Phil was my everything. No matter what, he always would be.

His cock hadn’t lost a damn thing though. With Phil’s body gone overall thin, it looked even more enormous by comparison.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I said.

“Pretty cool, eh? Even if it’s an optical illusion.” He snorted. We were both looking down at it, grinning like dipshits. “He’s missed you, Baby Girl.”

He let me help him into the shower and onto his seat, and he asked in an almost shy voice, “Strip for me?”

“Well, I’m not going to shower in my clothes.” I laughed.

“You know what I mean. Like that time in New York at Stephen and Tara’s place.”

Smiling, I nodded and did my best to hide my trepidation. It was easy to hide whatever changes had been taking place in my body beneath the bulky sweaters in the frozen hell of Saskatoon. Even though I was just seven weeks along, there were subtle differences. My nipples had grown larger and turned a bright pink, and although I had lost a few pounds, my abdomen was tight and slightly rounded.

Phil knew my body like no one’s business, and he’d pick up on the changes. I was certain of that. I took my time, giving him what he wanted, and his desire burned hotter the more I took off. Then, I realized he was doped up, buzzing on beer, and the changes went unnoticed.

Stroking his length, he stared at me, hard and intense. “Baby Girl…you are
the most
beautiful woman ever created.”

“I guess it’s only fair since you’re the most beautiful man.”

“I think we both need to eat more. Your ribs and hip bones are pokin’ out.”

Weirdly ashamed, aching with an odd sort of pain, I started to cross my arms beneath my breasts.

“No!” he barked. “Don’t, Kenna. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelin’s. It’s just…we’ve both been wrecked by this, you know? I look like I’m diseased or somethin’.”

Dropping my arms to my sides, I walked up to him, and he placed his hands on my bony hips. Something flitted through his eyes, a brief wave of shock and confusion, and then it was gone.

He felt it! Our Little Zephyr.

Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss on my belly, over our child, infusing us both with his undying love. He didn’t know it, but he’d just given both of us the strength to continue on this path, Little Zephyr and me.

“Home…” he whispered.

My eyes filled with tears.

Tilting his head up, he saw them and tugged me down onto my knees between his legs. Bending forward, he kissed them away, his hands holding my face. “My other half.”

“My whole life,” I whispered back.

His lips pressed to mine, and the inferno raged to life between us. He dragged me into him until his groin was pressed between my breasts, my overly sensitive nipples positively aching with the heat of his body and scratch of his pubic hair.

“Baby…” he rasped. “We gotta find a way. I
need
to be inside you.”

I needed him inside me, too. But more than that…I needed him to get well.

“There really isn’t a way,” I told him.

“But—”

“No. Would you truly risk it? You could fracture your pelvis all over again. You’d have to have more surgery, and you could very well end up with damage that would lead to impotence. We’d
never
have sex again!”

He growled. “No.”

“If you promise to hold completely still, I’ll go down on you, okay? I can give you that.”

Leaning back against the shower wall, he heaved a sigh of resignation. “This fuckin’ sucks.”

“I thought you liked the way I sucked.”

Phil’s eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “I do, Baby Girl.”

His erection had started to deflate with the flat-out refusal of sex, but it quickly surged back to life beneath my hands, lips, and tongue. He did his best not to rock his pelvis, and within a few short minutes, he was howling and coming hard down my throat.

As I got to my feet, Phil grabbed my hips and dragged me forward, bending to press his mouth to me, sucking and licking at my throbbing wet flesh.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You taste so fuckin’ good.”

Phil

My Baby Girl tasted different, sweeter and hotter. Beneath the difference, I could still taste
her
though. Maybe it had just been so long that I had forgotten that part of her flavor. When she came, I pushed a finger inside, shaken by the liquid warmth. She felt heavier somehow, the pulsing of her orgasm thicker, weighed down.

I didn’t put too much thought into it though because, for ten minutes, I felt
good
, almost normal again. Inside this steaming tiny shower with my Baby Girl, there was no outside world.

Kenna scrubbed me up and hosed me down. She was looking like Sheri used to, all skinny, like she was hungering something fierce, but she was still beautiful and keeping a brave face, a smile just for me.

The real world hit me all over again when we made our way to the new bed in the living room. I wanted my own fuckin’ bed, damn it! I wanted to fuckin’ throw my woman over my shoulder, march our asses up the stairs, toss her on our fuckin’ bed, and bury myself so deep inside her that I might never be able to leave.

Instead, I hobbled my broken ass like an old-timer over to this fuckin’ imposter bed and slowly dropped down onto the mattress. “Baby Girl, would you get me a beer?”

The look on her face told me she didn’t like that, but she kept her mouth shut and headed for the fridge. I was due for some more pills, and I found them on the table next to the bed. Kenna wasn’t happy about me mixing my meds with alcohol, but it made everything bearable.

X is dead.

Each time I thought about it, the world would close in and compress on my chest. I’d give anything to wake up from this nightmare and have X back.

When Kenna sat on her side of the bed, I thought,
Almost anythin’.

“Want to watch TV?” she asked, picking up the remote.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, not really giving a shit. Between the killer blow job, the beer, and the Vicodin, I was starting to mellow hard core.

“Do we have any weed?” I asked.

“Um…I don’t know. If there is, it’d be dried to a crisp.”

“Hmm…forgot that we moved. I guess we can call Jimi tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

Why does this feel weird?

Because the whole fuckin’ universe was fucked up, man! Everything was out of fuckin’ whack!

The only thing that hadn’t changed was how I felt about my Baby Girl. She had stuck by my ass through all of this, had taken care of me, while the others had trickled home once they were well enough—except for Connor. He might have stayed more for his sister than me, but I appreciated that he had all the same.

X is fuckin’ dead.

X had been my oldest friend. He’d been the reason I’d gotten into music. He’d been the one who had come up with the name NOLA’s Junk.

It had been back in the day, and we had just snagged Flipper from Glory Hole. We’d been downtown. Jason had been the only one with a license, and he’d had his dad’s piece-of-shit truck.

“Seriously, we really just want to check out the bands. We aren’t interested in drinkin’ or anything,” Flipper tells the bouncer.

It’s a balmy warm evening. The sky has that inky quality to it, just after the sun has sunk low and the moon hasn’t risen. Downtown always smells of fried food, spices, gasoline, and sex to me—not that I know what sex smells like. I’ve made out with chicks though, and I recall the scent of mingled body odors.

X and me are sitting in the bed of Jason’s truck watching Flipper try to convince the bouncers to let the four of us in to watch the bands playing tonight.

“Dude, Crissy Lasserman let me touch her titties,” X tells me.

“Bullshit.” I snort, sounding like a rusted hinge. I really fuckin’ wish my voice would stop doing that shit.

“Seriously! I snuck in a nipple tweak at her locker between fourth and fifth period today. They’re fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Isn’t she a cheerleader?” Jason asks from behind the wheel, through the back window.

“Fuck yeah, she is. Amazin’ fuckin’ tits,” says X.

“Really shouldn’t be doing this…” one of the bouncers was saying.

“Talk to the manager? It’s for educational purposes,” wheedles Flipper.

One of the bouncers heads inside.

How Flipper is able to charm the shit outta people is anyone’s guess. He’s a twerp of a dude.

“You think Danica would let me touch her tits if I asked?” I muse.

Jason just laughs, but X shrugs and looks thoughtful.

“I think she likes you, but she’s afraid of what people will think, you know?” says X.

“What d’you mean?”

“She’s afraid people will think she’s a pedophile if she goes out with your twelve-year-old–lookin’ ass,” says Jason. “But, yeah, ask her when no one else is around. I bet she’d let you touch ’em.”

Danica is the fuckin’ hottest chick in school, and I’ve had a hard-core crush on her for as long as I can remember. With long blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a nice fuckin’ rack, I’d give anything just to be able to fool around with her.

And I don’t look fuckin’ twelve, damn it.

“Well, if it ain’t the Bum Chums and Public Enemy Number One,” came that awful sneering voice that front-manned the worst band on the face of the earth.

“Aw, man!” whined X. “Trash day was yesterday! No one dragged your nasty ass to the curb?”

“Piss off, Vic,” snaps Flipper from the door of the club.

“Fuck you, traitor! We should beat your pathetic ass for ditchin’ your brothers the way you did!”

“Maybe he was sick of wastin’ his talent on the shit pile that comes outta Glory Hole.” Jason laughed.

I keep my fuckin’ mouth shut. My rusty pipes will only bring humiliation down on us.

“Fuck you, Jones!”

“Jesus, I think my IQ is droppin’, listenin’ to your witty rejoinders.” Jason steps out of the truck.

Jason is one of the coolest motherfuckers around. Girls at school fuckin’ worship him, and all the guys wanna be him. It’s fuckin’ badass that he only hangs with us. He’s older by a year, smart-mouthed, and wise-assed, and no one fucks with him and gets away with it. And when people fuck with the rest of us, they fuck with him, too.

Plus, he’s not a virgin. That fuckin’ counts for something.