Humanum Amarest
 

LANGLY:

Wow.

All these people came out for me. This is so cool.

Okay, so it's not like the crowd that came out for our wedding...good thing. This place probably seats 80 max.

And we can do the Elvis impersonators another time.

Renegade and Lu showed up. Renegade said something about being around soon, but like always, never says when exactly. I almost ask him how the fuck he knows it's my birthday and where I was gonna be, but that would be a stupid question. I know damn well how he knows. Tricks of the trade.

Having Lu around is still so bizarre in a way. I mean, this woman, a mere fourteen years back, busted my sorry white ass and landed me two years in Lompoc. And I was pissed as hell at her. For a long, long, LONG time.

And she's around again...but it's weird. It's like she's always there for the good times now. And she's nice, and funny, and I love her.

Weirdness.

Juliet's still messed up, but she came out. Byers says she wanted to get out of the house anyway, but I'm still real happy she came out on my day.

Byers and Frohike are here, and yeah, while I kind of expect them to be, I'm still kind of like, I'm glad they don't ever forget me. I put them through so much shit sometimes. And they haven't killed me yet. Sometimes I'm amazed.

Miranda's been decent to me all day, and to Patrick. No fighting, no biting, no hitting, no spitting. Hey, for her, that's an achievement. And she was nice to her mom, and she and Shelby didn't get into it.

Junior and Kelly showed up, even though watching poor Junior try to eat bread is almost hilarious, it's so pathetic. He like has to break it into these morsels just to get it in his mouth. Watching him eat dinner should be an interesting experience. But he came, and he's kind of quiet, he's only called me a fuckrag twice.

Maybe after he gets a few more beers in him, he'll go wild.

And Ally? She put this thing together. She's awesome. And I swear, the minute we get Patrick to sleep, I am ripping her bikini top off. And everything else.

So I'm greedy. Shoot me. It's not every day I get such an awesome birthday, and it's all her fault, anyway. If she didn't do all this nice stuff and didn't look so fucking delicious...

Patrick's sort of got his second wind now, Ally's trying to keep him from tearing the restaurant apart-Patrick's public manners leave a little to be desired. Sitting still isn't something he specializes in.

Ally finally picks him up and puts him on her lap, and when she does, it's like he settles down fast. I thought for a while there she didn't like him at all.

But the way she strokes his hair and smiles at him, well, guess I was wrong about that.

She reaches over and takes a tendril of my hair and places it behind my ear. Don't ask me why, but when she does that, it's like majorly seductive. Like I need help in that area right now.

What I do need is another beer. And they keep coming.

This is just so incredible. I am totally surrounded by people that love me and care about me and do nice things for me. I probably don't deserve it, but I'm glad they're here.

An amazing birthday gift.

Look how long it took me to realize it.
 

BYERS:

I was nervous about getting Juliet out of the house and hurting my mother-in-law's feelings by having to inform her that we wished to go alone.

I worried in vain. Caroline announced that she had some new books she wished to read, and she was dying for a few hours to herself.

There might just be a god somewhere.

In spite of her lack of mobility, Juliet seems to be having a wonderful time. As am I. Everyone seems so relaxed and joyful tonight, it's hard to be worried about external items.

Langly and Ally seem to be playing pass the child back and forth. He had him when they came in, then she held him, now he's back on Langly's lap.

He looks good with a kid. A few years back, I never would have guessed.

He seems so happy with Patrick. I think finding out there was a genetic link there was mostly icing on the cake by the time the news came to pass.

Our two birthday boys seem pretty content right now. Patrick's needling Langly to let him try some beer, and Langly finally agrees to let him have a sip-most little kids, for some reason, seem to like beer. I remember liking it when I was small.

Some things haven't changed.

Miranda and Shelby are engaged in an animated discussion with Juliet-I think it's related to boys, which seems to be their number one topic of choice. Juliet has a great rapport with the girls, and with Kelly, who for once is far noisier than her companion. The four of them giggle and screech and carry on.

Patrick is tired but restless, and he's squirming on Langly, uncertain as to what his next move will be. I have an idea what he'd like it to be, but Ally and Langly will certainly murder him should he put his plan into action.

Without thinking, I pick up the squiggly young boy and sit him down on me. He doesn't know me well, and he eyes me a little skeptically at first, but Langly assures him that I haven't boiled any children in recent history, that it's okay to bug Uncle Byers.

This is a child who has already been through more at four than many kids will have to deal with in a lifetime. Yet he seems to mostly be suffering at the moment from being a little boy, which means having to keep a somewhat civilized demeanor when all he really wants to do is build a fort out of the chairs in the dining room and make bread balls out of the focaccia in the
basket.

Hey, I went to prep school. It's not as if I never misbehaved.

He's curious about the beard. This is fine, except he needs to watch his grip there; I could end up with more than a few bare spots if he's not careful.

Fine, as long as he only pulls out the gray strands, which, by the way, are getting a lot more numerous. Both in the beard and on top of the head.

I'm beginning to understand why women have made hair dye a multimillion dollar product.

Carrying on with Renegade, Langly, Frohike, and Michael, I barely notice when Patrick has drifted off to sleep in my lap.

But Juliet does. She gives me that Look...I can't put my finger on exactly what constitutes it, but it's powerful, primal, and I can feel it pulling me in.

I know she wants children. I also know she doesn't want to wait forever to have them.

And suddenly, neither do I.
 

LANGLY:

God, did we eat enough? This table looks like it suffered massive frontal assault. And we're still attacking it. The empties pile up almost faster than the servers can remove them. At our house, we just leave 'em on the table and count 'em at the end of the night.

We woke up Patrick to eat, and he managed to down some pizza-cheese, of course-which is what I used to go for when I was little, nothing else, but he's getting sleepy again, and kind of crabby.

Frohike takes him, and I can sort of hear him crooning to the little guy, and Patrick's almost down again when the server brings out this giant tiramisu...that looks like it was lit with a blowtorch.

42 candles. 38 for me, 4 for Patrick.

Frohike hands Patrick back to me-we look like the TV ad for the Olive Garden, with about a million yapping Italian relatives passing the baby to everyone there-and we are treated to a slightly boozy, multi-key round of 'Happy Birthday' from damn near everyone in the place. It's not like we weren't noticeable with a party of twelve, and a pretty loud one at that.

I tell Patrick make a wish but not to say it or it won't come true. He looks real solemn and says he promises.

I don't know what he wished for, but I know what I did.

More days like today.
 

Killed the tiramisu. Drank about a hundred more beers. I'm starting to fade a little, and I'm not the only one.

Patrick has finally reached the point where he can no longer be revived. Miranda and Shelby are leaning against one another, and Michael's got his head on Kelly's shoulder, he's kind of half-dozing there.

Lu and Renegade tell us they'll try and hook up with us tomorrow night or something, which is very cool. Byers and Juliet start the long trek to their car...all treks for Juliet right now are long ones. But even though I think she's beat, she seems real glad to be out in circulation. Kelly claims she's taking Michael home and throwing him into bed. I wonder if that's literal or figurative. He looks totally out of it.

Frohike gives me a quick hug around the shoulders, and I'm happy and just buzzed enough I don't mind.

God, I'd be dead without this little gnome to watch over me. Don't know if he knows that, but I sure as hell do.

We're the last ones out, we stuff Patrick in the back with the girls, and Miranda sort of lays him down in her lap, which surprises me and makes me real happy. She and Shelby don't do the usual giggle and shriek number on the short way home, which means they are really worn.

I'm tired. It's exhausting having this much fun.

Then I look over at Ally. She looks a little tired, but she smiles at me, this sweet, slightly wicked smile...

She's still gonna lose the bikini top soon as we get Patrick in bed.
 

BYERS:

We are surprised upon arriving home that Caroline is fast asleep on the sofa. I thought I slept minimally, but compared to Caroline, I consider myself a glutton for shuteye.

Juliet says she wants to get into bed, now. She loved being out again, but it was very tiring for her.

She's dressed simply in a short black skirt and a red T-shirt, one of the ones that fits snugly and has a plunging neckline. In spite of the arm and leg casts...she is still the sexiest woman I have ever seen.

I help her remove the clothing...and I seem to not be able to avoid the inevitable physiological reaction.

Watching her has made me totally aroused.

We haven't had any sexual contact since her accident. I can't tell you how much I miss that part of my life.

I lay her down gently, not dressing her for bed yet. She is so lovely...I just want to look at her for a while.

"John?" She says gently, eyes closed but not sleeping.

"Yes?"

"Why don't you come and join me?" Her voice is a soft, seductive purr.

I start to rapidly remove my clothes, but she holds up her uninjured arm. "No. Slowly. I want to look at you."

I feel slightly uncomfortable doing this...my current biological state will not remain a secret for long.

But she gently urges me along. Her voice is soft and beckoning.

I start from above the waist, and she makes me stop for a while. I come over and sit on the bed, and with her good hand, she begins to make small, soft, circular motions on my chest, running her fingers through the red hair and over every curve and indentation.

She does this for a while, and I lean over to touch her in a similar fashion, but she says, "No. Wait. Your turn will come. More."

I remove more clothing, until we are both naked before each other.

"You are the most beautiful man in the universe," she breathes, and right now, I don't care whether it's true or not.

"What would you like me to do for you?" I ask in almost a whisper.

She opens her dark eyes wide and smiles.

"Lots of things."

"Name one."

"John...I want you to make love to me. Right now."

As much as I want to do this, and as much as I've been craving the opportunity-God knows I'm ready-I'm not sure what to do.

This will require a little bit of creativity.

I'm ready to be creative, I decide.

I can't put much weight on her, so I start by snuggling up close to her side where her hip isn't injured. She wraps her good arm around me, and even I, as eager as I am, am taken aback by the passion and intensity in her kiss.

Only for a moment, though. This is so wonderfully delicious. I have missed the taste of her mouth more than she can imagine. The feel of skin on skin, her skin on mine.

She isn't letting go, either. All the pent-up energy and anxiety of recent weeks is channeled into our lips.

We finally run out of breath and separate our mouths, but only by a few inches.

"I was so afraid...you were never going to do that again," she breathes, her eyes never leaving mine. Steady brown gaze on my blue one.

I'm puzzled. "I don't understand."

"John...I feel so ugly and so deformed...I'm probably always going to walk with a limp...I hope I can still have children..."

"I'm sure you can," I say gently. "You didn't appear to suffer any internal injuries in the abdominal area, at least none that were serious."

She looks uncertain now. I want to drive that uncertainty out of her, once and for all.

The way I wish I could do within myself.

"I don't know...I want kids so bad, and I'm worried about my hip...what if I can't carry properly?"

"I think you'll be fine." I'm lying, possibly-I truly have no rational basis for my comments. But somehow, intuitively, I have a sense that in time, her injuries will be nothing more than a memory and perhaps a minor inconvenience. "You're not ugly. You're not deformed. You're the most lovely woman I've ever seen-and I want you."

Somehow, that's enough for her. I can't give her full truth right now...I don't know what it is. The only truth I can give her is that I love her, and right now, I just crave her with me. On me, in me, name your preposition. It's all that matters, at least in this moment. And when you get to it, the moment is all you have.

"Let's not worry tonight," I whisper to her. In telling her this, I myself find many of my cares and concerns melting into a vapor of meaninglessness. Soon enough, they will be back, liquid and solid and unavoidable.

But not in this moment.

I know it's taken me so long to get to this point...right now, I'm not going to question why. There's plenty of time for that in a world where you're considered to be something of a philosopher-king (which always makes me feel like something of a fraud, but as I said, that's for another time).

This woman is a gift.

I think her greatest gift to me has been that she has taught me to live in the moment. To be here now. To not always be dwelling on the past or worrying over the future. I still, of course, do these things.

But I have moments where I can let go now. To just give myself over to what's real there.

This is real, this is the moment.

She opens her eyes again, and this time, they're gleaming wickedly. I wonder what she has in mind for next.

"Aren't we lucky Mom's sleeping?" She grins. "This feels like we're in high school and trying to be quiet so we don't get caught."

Somehow, it just makes this moment all the more delicious. And in many ways, it's like being young again...we need to explore, figure out systems, learn new ways to do things.

Only I never had so much fun doing it before.
 

I am exhausted when we are finally spent. Curling up next to her, I am soaked in light and heat and joy.

I can see the little smile on her lips she gets when she is drifting off to sleep. The experience was intensely tiring, not to mention intensely pleasurable.

For some reason, having her mother in the next room, and trying not to get caught in flagrante delicto, made the experience all the more delicious. There was this amusing element of danger to it, and I ate it up.

Speaking of eating, I could use something chocolate.
 

FROHIKE:

The problem with an evening of sheer relaxation and pleasure is that it takes your mind to other places.

It's been a thin time on the Web. Free speech seems to be a dead concept in the world of cyberspace. Many of my favorite sites have been closed down, and I am furious and disturbed.

There are the obvious reasons, of course-I grow weary of people making value judgments as to what is for me, a 56-year-old man, suitable entertainment. I think I'm old enough to determine what I like. I don't need big brother making my decisions for me.

When I did that, I ended up in the far side of hell...and there is no way I will repeat that experience. Not in any way, shape or form.

Our autonomy is being destroyed, and the sad fact is, most people are not even aware of it. The press is so tightly closed these days. The idea of a free press is a myth in this country-and always has been, to some degree-but lately, the degrees are pushing into the red zone.

And God, I miss my downloads.

Kelly actually did come home and toss Michael into bed...it wasn't an idle threat. And she and I had a small chat before she took off. I think the girl is growing on me. I still think she's awfully young to be so seriously involved with my son, but it doesn't seem to have derailed her ambitions.

I check on Michael, make sure he's okay.

He's tucked in bed, with only a sheet over him (it's still so fucking hot I could scream), and as usual, the corner of his pillow is stuffed into his mouth and he's sucking on it. The surgery seems to have made him snore more than usual. I wonder how long this will go on.

If he's got my genes in that area, he's on his way to permanently pumping up the volume.

The point is, he's sound asleep. Kelly probably made him take some pain pills before he went under, and that means he won't wake up during the night.

Meaning, I can make a phone call.

I really liked that Martha girl, the accountant. She seemed so clean...so wonderfully, wholesomely seductive. And she did say she had large breasts.

I wonder if she's on tonight. I'd like her to invest some of my assets with her.

"1-900-HOT-BABE." A bored sounding voice picks up.

"I'd like to have Martha, if I may," I inform the receiver.

"Just a minute." Several minutes later, I hear a familiar soft purr on the line.

"1-900-HOT-BABE, what is your fantasy?"

"To have you do some investing for me."

"Mmm, is this Melvin?" She remembered. A good sign.

A conscientious worker.

"Hi, Martha," I tell her. "Mmm...first, I'd like a look at your assets...can you start with your breasts?"

"Well...they're large...and listening to you is making me all-SHIT!"

The scream is genuine, terrified.

"What is it?" I'm worried. This is not part of the routine.

"Melvin, we're being raided-" Her voice falls away from the line. I can hear a great deal of screaming behind.

Oh Christ.

I wonder if they're tracing the incoming calls.

If so, at least they won't find me. I know tricks.

But I have to help this girl.

I've got to find out where the calls originate from, and find out what the results of the raid were.

Michael should be okay on his own for a while.

I'd planned on a nice peaceful evening of settling in.

Want to make God laugh? Tell him your plans.

Looks like it's work time again.

END OF PART 69