Humanum Amarest, Humanum Autem Ignoscerest
 

LANGLY:

It's two in the morning. I'm sitting in my living room, having a 20,000-calorie binge with my daughter. I mean stepdaughter...fuck it. Sometimes I think she's my daughter, and sometimes she even acts like it.

Like now. She's been so cold to us lately, both me and Ally. But tonight, she's like, she wants to make nice, she invited me in for a caloriefest.

This is one of our favorite things to do together. That, and watch slash 'em and gash 'em films.

We're doing both.

Either feast or famine in these parts.

I've killed a pint of Cherry Garcia; my newest subject of attack is a tube of Pillsbury sugar cookie dough. Gotta be Pillsbury. Nestle makes one, just doesn't taste the same. Miranda agrees. One time Ally got Nestle by mistake. Must've been on sale or something. We bitched.

She said something like, do your own fucking shopping, but I notice it's been Pillsbury ever since.

That's what I love about Miranda's mommy. She pays attention. She gets the details right.

That, and a bunch of other reasons. Some of which I'm not allowed to indulge in right now.

Her mom's sleeping on the sofa, which seems to be where she's condemned to spend her life till February...maybe it's good she's so tired and feels so miserable. Otherwise, she'd be real hard to live with. Ally's not the best person at sitting still.

And goddamn, she is so pretty. All that wavy red hair and milky skin and the few freckles she's got left...tiny little hands...and everything under the blanket...

Which I don't dare think about right now. Otherwise, I'm gonna be in serious trouble.

I miss my wife.

I miss making love to her. Christ, I miss that...it's not just the sex part, although I need that, too. I miss the closeness. It's like, I need that closeness with her. I need to get lost inside her every now and then.

Okay, more than every now and then. Like pretty much all the time works for me.

And since we decided in February to start this...well, let's just say it's been a lot like being on one of those liquid protein diets. Not that I've ever been on one, but I know people who have...almost made them crazy.

It's certainly doing a number on me.

I miss being able to just roll over in bed, and she's there, and we'll start playing, and pretty soon it gets more and more intense, and more loving, and it's like I never want it to end.

I miss the way she says my name when she's about to come. I miss the way her mouth feels on my...

Okay, okay, enough.

So I'm starving here.

And while I do consider the peanut butter M&M's I'm downing at a prodigious rate to be one of the finer blessings of modern technology, they're a damn poor substitute for the little redhaired girl on the sofa.

I'm getting a weird look from Miranda.

Honestly, that kid spooks me sometimes. She's...well, uncanny.

I mean, most times, she acts like a teenage girl, which is what she is, but in some moments, she is like so perceptive it's scary.

She's got one of those looks right now.

I ask her to pass me the SweetTarts. I need a break. Something tart.

Red ones. Ally's favorite. SweetTarts are awesome.

"Mommy says you went to see Aunt Joan today." Even if Miranda has trouble accepting my ersatz parent status at times, she has no trouble with the idea that Joanie's her aunt. I mean, she's not, but as far as Miranda is concerned, Joanie's her aunt, and that's that. Arguing the point with her would be utterly useless. Actually, arguing anything with Miranda is pretty damn useless. She's in debate at school, but even before she joined, that kid had a way of crafting an argument you couldn't get around no matter how you tried.

"Yeah," I mutter through a mouthful of Nacho Cheese Doritos. Went to salty.

"How is she?"

Okay, how'm I supposed to do this?

Do I lie to her and say things are cool?

Or do I come out and say, Aunt Joan's dying, deal with it?

This is Miranda. I think in spite of the harshness of the latter, it would work better with her.

"Uh...well...she's not getting better."

"I knew that. How is she?"

"She's not gonna be around much longer." I make sure my mouth is full when I say this. Hard to eat and start crying at the same time.

And maybe I can do it in front of Junior, but not in front of my kid.

There I go again.

"I kind of figured that." She looks sober. But not crying. Real matter-of-fact. "I wanna go see her tomorrow."

"Better see how she's feeling first."

"Langly, she feels terrible! But she wants to see us."

She's probably right. Miranda is pretty good about this kind of stuff.

Not like some other people engaged in this binge party here.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you. And don't say anything to your cousins, okay?"

"Excuse me, Aunt Joan may be my aunt, but those jerks are NOT my cousins!" She is damn emphatic about this.

She doesn't trust Julie, and she hates Chris.

Kid shows pretty good judgment.

"So like how long you think she's got?"

I shake my head, and stuff my face full of more cookie dough. "Don't know. Not too long. Says she keeps needing more pain stuff. She keeps getting weaker."

"She's not sad, though."

Weird observation. "I dunno. I mean, I think she'd rather not be sick."

"Well, duh, Langly, of course she'd rather not be sick! Who wants to die, I mean? Really. But maybe she figures if she's got to do it, she'll do it the way she wants."

"That's why we can't say anything to your cousins."

"Langly, for the last time, they're not my cousins! And even if they were, I wouldn't tell them!" She rolls her eyes at me. She does this a lot.

"Sorry. Hand me some of those Screaming Yellow Zonkers, okay?"

She passes me the box-it's like all she left me were the crumbs!

"Hey, no fair! You ate all these!"

"You snooze, you lose." She downs a mouthful of Doritos. "Besides, what does Mom always say?"

"Old age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill." She says it in Latin, too, but I like the English translation in this one.

"Yeah, well, don't think so." She looks around the floor. "I need ice cream."

I think I'll pass on a second pint. I'm gonna pay for this tomorrow as is. I always do. But it's worth it.

"I'm gonna miss Aunt Joan." She looks wistful.

She has no idea.

"She's like your last family. Except for Mom and me and the one in the oven."

Well, at least she counts herself as my family. I feel a little better.

"You don't seem too thrilled about the one we got cooking."

"Well, Jesus, Langly, what'd you expect?!" She gives me her are-you-dense look. Which I get a lot. "You think this is only a big deal for you and Mom. Well, it's not! Changes my whole life, you know!"

Yeah, I guess it will...I mean, I knew that. But she's been pretty hostile with us lately...so we haven't gotten into it.

"It's weird. All my friends think this is so cool."

Well, peer pressure does work sometimes...

"Course, they're not going to have to put up with the screamer."

I think Miranda's sore about losing her only-child status. And Miranda is a sore loser. Michael's right about that.

"That's assuming it makes it. Mom's not too good at this, you know."

As I've been reminded only about 50,000 times.

Still, hearing it phrased so bluntly...from my daughter's mouth...I mean stepdaughter...

Leave it to Miranda to put in a few well-placed knives.

And she looks a little more smug than I'd like when she says this.

She's a very cool kid, but sometimes she's a real pisser.

"You need to help your mom more," I tell her after another fistful of peanut butter M&M's.

"Excuse me, Langly, but I have homework! I have friends! I have a LIFE!"

"Yeah, well, your mom can't do so much right now."

"Yeah, and she hates it, you know."

"She say something to you?"

"No. But I know my mom. Being a couch potato, that's not her." She's working her Ben & Jerry's Triple Fudge Brownie threat here. "Still, she must really want this kid. Mom wouldn't give up smoking and drinking just for somebody asking. She likes her habits. And she likes being out working and going to school."

I feel a small measure of reassurance here. Miranda's vision is clear. She'd know if her mom was only having this baby for me.

And she'd let me know it, too. Miranda isn't one to hold back.

"I just hope it works this time, for her." Miranda's licking the spoon now, in a way like her mom does. Only on her mom, it looks sexier. "She's really a great mom, you know."

Nice to know she at least recognizes it. I always thought her mom was a great mom.

"I like being an only child. I like getting all the attention."

"Sorry."

"Yeah, well, I'll get even with you. I'll tell it all the terrible things you do to me."

I have to laugh. Am I really that bad to her? I don't know.

"Like how you hassle Jesse. He's scared of you, you know."

YESSSS!

I cherish the look of fear in a young boy's eyes.

"You COULD be nicer to him."

"Forget it." I'm back on Pillsbury cookie dough. "He's a 16-year-old boy. I know what they're like."

"You don't know what Jesse's like."

"I was a 16-year-old guy once. Believe me, I know."

"Langly, look, just because you're an uncontrolled mass of hormones doesn't mean every guy is!"

Christ, I'm blushing.

"And don't tell me you're not! I see you with my mom, and right now you look like you want to eat her up!"

Oh Jesus fuck, am I that obvious?

"And I know you guys aren't doing it." Smug as hell.

This is not the sort of conversation you want to have with your kid.

"You should rent some videos, Langly."

Oh man. I know I'm red now. I hate blushing. Why couldn't I have been born a brunette?

Because you came from who you came from, you idiot, and they're blondes.

And that's about all you really know about them, isn't it?

What Michael showed you...is this really true?

Maybe it's not. Maybe it's all made up, just to make my dad look bad...

Some of this stuff, it's his own notes. Lots of it. Why would he lie in his own notes?

No. This can't be true. It's all got to be some malicious machination.

I refuse to believe it.

Miranda's lucky. Her parents, they're good people. She knows they are. I mean, she may not know all her circumstances, but she can rest easy, knowing that Mom and Dad tried to always be good. Especially to her.

I can't do that.

And it makes me worry what I'll do with my own kid. The one not yet born, that is.

So far, I'm off to a less than stellar start, that's for sure.

She looks a little more distracted now. She finishes her ice cream, burps loudly-we can do that when we do this project, it's part of it-and asks me a strange question.

"What will you do for Aunt Joan's funeral?"

I hadn't even thought about that.

"I don't think I'll do anything. Probably Julie and Chris'll do it. Put it together."

"Yeah, well, that's why you have to do your own. Because you know what it'll be. Some born again fest, all phony and overblown."

She's probably right about that. But I don't wanna think about it. I keep hoping that something, anything'll happen...some miracle...

"Mommy always says funerals are for the living, not the dead."

Does she, now? Ally and me, we don't talk about funerals. We have to go to way more of them than we'd like.

"So you have to think about what you'd want-"

"Miranda, I don't wanna talk about this."

"Fine." She grabs for the peanut butter M&M's. "Langly, you bastard! You ate all these!"

"You snooze, you lose."

"No fair."

"You ate all the Screaming Yellow Zonkers, don't talk to me about fair!"

"Hey, fair is when I get what I want, not when you get what you want." A harsh, but accurate, description of what Miranda's world view is.

At least she's not self-deluded, unlike some other people in this room.

"So can we go see Aunt Joan tomorrow? I guess it's today, really."

"Yeah, we can go see Joanie."

"Good. She's so nice. I like having her around." Sad again. "I'm going to miss her so much."

You aren't the only one, kid.

"And if that miserable son of hers is there, I swear, Langly, I will kill him."

Miranda's only a little bigger than her mom, and she probably can't kill anyone-except maybe with that mouth of hers.

Her greatest weapon.

I'd love to see her in action on Chris. This could be entertaining.

Ruthless clarity against total self-delusion. Be interesting to see who wins.

I might actually put my money on Miranda in this case. Make no mistake. The girl has a vicious streak.

The credits for "Nightmare on Elm Street" are popping up. Miranda sets down her container, yawns, and flips off the remote.

"You get to clean up, Langly."

I told you, that girl is vicious.
 

FROHIKE:

Spending an evening with my daughter...something I wasn't sure I'd ever do
again.

On the whole, it's been pleasant. Of course, we've avoided some of the more emotional topics, so while nothing has really been resolved, it wasn't wrenching.

In fact, it was rather...fun.

Leslie enjoys baseball, and ESPN Tonight, and we were able to indulge in this until she pleaded exhaustion, wandered off to her brother's room, and fell asleep.

And no cracks about American League ball not being real baseball, like I get from Michael.

Speaking of Michael, it's nearly four a.m....where the hell is he?

Oh, let me guess.
 

MICHAEL:

After Langly went in to have a pig out with Miranda, I went in to see if Kelly was still in the living room. She wasn't.

And I was able to slip into the dungeon without being noticed while Langly and Miranda argued over whether it was gonna be 'Nightmare on Elm Street' or
'Halloween.'

Whatever was Miranda's choice I'm sure won.

Kelly's asleep on top of her bed when I get there, like she just came downstairs and dropped.

I lean over and kiss her. Like is this the scene from 'Sleeping Beauty' or what?

But she jumps a little when I do it. I think she still hates surprises.

"Sorry," I mutter lamely.

"It's okay, it's okay." She's now in that hyperalert state you get when you get woken up suddenly.

And she wraps her arms around me and pulls me down on her.

Oh yeah.

She's probably too sleepy, just wants to cuddle...

But I guess she can feel me getting all puffed up, and she starts to move a little, like she does when she's horny.

I'm just happy to be in her arms, feeling her whole body against mine. I need this. It's been a long fucking weekend, and it's not over yet.

Kisses. Little ones first, real soft, then deeper ones. Oh God...she flicks her tongue against mine, I think I'm gonna go crazy.

Her hands are under my shirt, rubbing my lower back...I feel her hands then slide inside my pants. With that, I'm breathing a lot faster than I was before.

Her hands move to the buttons. Maybe I can understand now why Ally bitches about Langly wearing 501s.

I'm gonna have to keep this in mind when I go shopping the next time. Maybe I should've gotten a pair with a zipper. Sure would go faster.

Oh God...I'm hard as a rock now.

I want her. Right now.

The clothes shedding process starts. Why can't they just fall off when you need them to?

When she's undressed, I always like to just look at her, admire how gorgeous she is. And she is gorgeous. She's a little bit plump these days, just the way I like her. And I like that she gained weight in her tits. They're round and white and delicious.

Sort of like vanilla ice cream. With cherries on top.

And there's no place I feel calmer than when I'm against them. I lean my head on her right one, brush my lips over her nipple. I get a little cry from her.

I could do that again. And I do.

I'm loved here. And safe. And warm. And happy.

I think I understand my dad's tit fixation now. I find myself getting the same one.

And I do everything I can with them. God, I love her tits. I love how hard her nipples get when I touch them, I love the way they flatten out when I suck them...

I start sucking her, real slow, real soft, but then she asks me to do it a little harder, and I do.

I feel a little bit of liquid flowing out of me. Like before you come. Oh man.

She's whimpering now, but it's not like pain. Her face is all lit up, she's smiling, her lips are parted.

I could just hang here on her tits and never let go. Everything I need is right here.

Finally she starts whining. "In me. In me. Inmeinmeinmeinme..."

And I'm only too happy to help her out here.

God, she is so wet. So warm. Not as tight as she was before, because I've stretched her out a little, and this makes it easier to slide into her gently. Used to be, she'd have to be on top of me, and it'd take a few tries to get me in her. Not anymore. I'm in her with one stroke. Like my body just knows where to go now.

And she knows how to take me in.

When she's got me tucked in her, I never want it to end. It's just the most amazing sensation.

I've gotten to know her body better, too. Like I know now how she feels when pleasure's gonna take her over the edge.

Like it is now.

God, I want this to last. It's so hard for me to hold on, but I'm trying.

And she cries out, real soft, but her face is lit up like Christmas. Like the angel on top of the tree.

God, she is beautiful.

And I can't stand it anymore...

I feel myself pulsing, it's going to happen, I'm gonna come now. I feel my balls draw up into me...

Release. Oh man. It's coming, right now.

Got to remember not to scream. Miranda's in the next room.

But oh God, it's hard not to...I feel so fantastic...I'm like flowing right into Kelly.

She's wrapped all around me, puts her legs around my ass the way I like it. That way, I feel more in her. And I can't go in her deep enough right now.

I'm out of breath now. But it's like every nerve in me relaxes. I didn't even know I was that wound up, and I knew I was pretty tense.

I'm not going home tonight.

END OF PART 21