Michigan Weather and Women: Part 2Dancing, and other forms of sentimentality.

Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

 As we finished the prep work, I asked Wilma about her day with Mary.

"She

is a good kid but is carrying a lot of anger and shame. We spent most

of the day getting in touch with that anger. It takes some people years

before they can express their emotions through art; it took her about

five minutes. But we had to take some breaks to clean up the paint

splatters afterward before they stained."

"Oh shit! Sorry about that. I can pay to replace anything that;"

"Nothing to apologize for; I asked her to express how she felt, and she did it in the way that felt right to her."

"Well, I appreciate your taking the time. I am just her big brother; I feel so lost when it comes to parenting."

"Being

a parent doesn't mean that you know any more than anyone else, and it

certainly doesn't mean that you know any better. For what it's worth, I

think you are doing a fine job with your family. I know that you don't

have your parents around to say it, but this old woman is mighty proud

of who you are and of how you have stepped up for your brother and

sisters. They are very lucky to have you."

I

turned away so that Wilma wouldn't see me getting choked up. I couldn't

remember the last time that someone had said they were proud of me.

Soon enough, though, it was dinner time, and Erin came into the kitchen

with that same look of amusement on her face.

"Sorry to bother the chef, but Lane needs some help that only a big brother can provide."

When I gave her a quizzical look, she blushed.

"It

seems like he is going through puberty, which can pose; some new

challenges. When I was assessing his ankle, he; well, indicated his

interest in me in a way that can be difficult to hide, particularly

while wearing sweatpants. It's natural for his body to react that way at

that age, and it's nothing for him to feel badly about, but he was

mortified. I think he could use a bit of brotherly guidance and

understanding."

I went to the living room and saw that Lane was curled up on the couch and looked like he was fighting back tears.

"How are you doing, Buddy?"

He couldn't even look at me he was so embarrassed.

"I

am so sorry; I just couldn't help it. I don't know why it started to

get bigger, and I wanted it to stop, and it wouldn't and then she saw

me, and;" he continued as he fought back a sob. "Can we just go home?"

"Erin

is a doctor. She knows how the human body works and has seen that kind

of thing a hundred times. She isn't mad at you or embarrassed. She just

feels bad that you feel so bad. This is just part of getting older and

growing up.

"Did I ever tell you about what happened in Miss Iron's class when I was a freshman?

Miss

Iron was a bit of a legend among the male students at our local high

school. She was the youngest and prettiest teacher, by far, and even

though she always dressed professionally, the clothing style had yet to

be invented that could fully conceal her bountiful natural endowment.

"Well,

I liked Miss Irons a lot. She was one of the few teachers who looked

past my difficulty with reading and writing. So, I developed a little

crush on her, which was fine until the inevitable; hmm, physical

demonstration of my crush; happened in class one day, just before she

asked me to collect everyone's quizzes. I tried to delay, I tried to ask

a friend to do it instead, but eventually, I had to stand up. It took

me until my junior year to live that one down."

As

Lane listened to my story, he turned to face me and his second-hand

embarrassment for me helped to push his embarrassment to the side.

"So, what happened?"

"Miss

Irons was lovely and kind like she always was, but I wanted the floor

to open up and swallow me or to get hit by a bolt of lightning. Things

would have been fine if she hadn't mentioned what happened to the

principal, who called Mom. She didn't find the story funny at all."

I

hadn't thought of the aftermath when I started telling Lane this

particular story, but as they say, might as well put it in four-wheel

drive and keep going.

"Mom was mad?"

"By

then, Mom was pretty much always angry. I did my best to keep her away

from you and the girls when she got that way, but yeah; she was mad."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No,

Bud, I'm not. In a few years, once your embarrassment has died down a

little, I will tease you mercilessly about this because that's what

brothers do; and maybe threaten to tell your girlfriend, if you fall

behind on your chores or homework. But I will never get mad at you for

something that you can't control. And I promise that Erin isn't mad at

you either."

Just then, Mary poked her head in to tell us that dinner was on the table.

"Are you safe now, or do you need a few more minutes."

"I'm good. Thanks, Dad."

After

I helped Lane hobble into the dining room, we got down to the business

of eating and teasing each other, but not necessarily in that order. It

felt good; almost like what I imagined a real family would feel like.

Eventually, the conversation turned to more serious matters, though, and

Erin led off the questions.

"So,

how do you know Gran, and why are you wearing Grampy's favorite

sweater? And, for what it's worth, I don't remember him filling it out

in quite the way that you do."

I blushed a bit as Wilma jumped in.

"If

Phillip had filled out that sweater like young Davis here, it wouldn't

have stayed on him for very long, I can tell you that."

"Gran!"

Erin exclaimed, laughing while sounding scandalized. "I didn't need

that mental image. Heck, none of us needed that mental image."

"Oh, don't you worry, Dear. He still filled it out well enough, and it looked equally good on our bedroom floor."

We were pretty much all blushing at that point, which I think was Wilma's objective, so I quickly changed the topic.

"I

am just your mother's plumber. I came out to fix her boiler and then

finished the job earlier this week when a couple of parts came in that I

needed."

Wilma jumped in at that point and added her two cents to my story.

"He also brought me my groceries and we had a lovely conversation. He is a real Renaissance gentleman, a rarity these days."

Erin looked grateful but concerned.

"Did you have enough money to cover the bill, Gran? You know I can help if you need;"

I tried to jump in before Wilma could reply.

"No need to worry, the bill was paid in full;"

"Hogwash," Wilma exclaimed as I tried to finish, turning to Mary before she continued.

"Your

brother wouldn't let me pay him a cent for the work that he did. Not

even for the parts that needed to be replaced! He is a very nice boy but

a terrible businessman."

I turned to Erin for support.

"I figured your Gran has enough going on right now with her health and all. It was the least I could do to help her out."

Erin

looked at me with a strange expression on her face. I didn't have much

experience with women, so I figured I must have made her angry somehow.

Most of my interactions with women, including my sisters, seemed to end

with them being upset with me for one reason or another, but she didn't

sound angry when she spoke.

"Thank you, Davis, that was very sweet of you."

"Yeah, well; you see, it's just; pass the fish, please."

"That still doesn't explain why you're wearing Grampy's favorite sweater.

When

I was a little girl, I used to curl up in Grampy's lap and snuggle into

that sweater as he read to me. He was wearing it when I danced my first

dance with him in front of the fireplace. Do you remember that old

record player, Gran? You used to bring it out and we would waltz around

the living room to Moon River."

"I still have that record player here somewhere, let me go see if I can find it."

Erin started to protest, but it was too late.

"To

finish answering your question, Erin, we were here today because your

Gran offered to mentor Mary. I tried to politely decline, but your Gran

is pretty persistent when she wants to be."

"That sounds like Gran. Most of the time when she makes a suggestion, it is really a command."

"While we are asking questions, how is Lane's ankle?"

"It's

pretty badly sprained, and he will need to use crutches to walk for the

next couple of weeks. You should bring him to the hospital to get some

X-rays done as well, to make sure that he doesn't have any fractures."

I could feel myself deflate as she mentioned X-rays.

"I'm

not trying to be cheap, but are the X-rays absolutely necessary? We

don't have the best insurance; we got it through the exchange. I guess

it's better than nothing, but the deductible is pretty high, and my

other sister, Alison, her college tuition is due soon. But if you say

it's important, I will put in some extra hours to make it work."

It

didn't usually bother me that we were poor. Heck, most everyone we

knew, except the McDougals, was poor. But it hit home when you had to

tell a beautiful doctor with bright amber eyes that you couldn't afford

an X-ray for your little brother unless it was urgent.

"Tell

you what. I will be working at the hospital in Petoskey tomorrow, so

why don't you bring Lane by, and I will take care of him? I will make

sure that he gets a pair of loaner crutches for as long as he needs

them."

"You don't need to do that for us."

Erin gave me another one of her looks, this one I was more familiar with; I was pretty sure it was annoyance.

"So,

just to be clear, you can look after my Gran, fix her boiler for free,

and bring her groceries whenever you feel like it, but I can't look

after your brother and make sure that his ankle is treated properly?"

"Well, when you put it that way, I sound like a bit of a jackass. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. Come by the hospital at 11 AM tomorrow."

Before

we could continue, the sound of a 45 playing on an old record player

filled the house. You could hear the hisses and pops before Ella

Fitzgerald's voice began to sing "Dream a Little Dream of Me."

Chapter 3.

We

got up from the table and followed the music back to the living room. I

helped Lane out of his chair while he half-hobbled and half-hopped

along beside me. Wilma had set her ancient record player up in the

corner beside a stack of old 45s, and she had a faraway look in her eyes

as she looked out the picture window toward the lake.

"I think it's time for me to ask the prettiest girl in the place to dance," I said, as my eyes swept across the room.

"But unfortunately, it's a three-way tie. So, will you do me the honor?" I said as I held out my hand to Wilma.

"I

haven't danced since Phillip passed. You know, we used to dance

together every Friday night. It didn't matter where we were or what we

were doing, we would always make time to dance at least one song

together, even if the music was only in our heads."

"I imagine I will be a pretty poor partner compared to Phillip, but I will try not to step on your toes."

Wilma

and I ended up dancing a slow foxtrot to "Unforgettable" by Nat King

Cole. She smiled at me as we slowly circled the living room.

"You're a very good dancer, young man."

"Our mother taught me when I was very young."

Before

she began with the drugs and men, our mother had been a showgirl in New

York and then Las Vegas. When she got pregnant with me, she moved back

to Mackinaw City and started teaching ballroom dancing at a local

studio. By the time I was five, I was her practice partner of choice,

and she always insisted that I lead, despite being only half her size.

"The man always leads, Darling, that's just the way of the world."

I

was hardly a man at the time, but I never disagreed with my mother when

she was in a good mood, because I knew it could shift in an instant.

So, I learned to dance, and I learned to lead. The memories came

flooding back as I guided Wilma into a soft over-sway, and she smiled

with delight.

"Oh my, you do know how to dance!"

I couldn't help but smile back.

"I can't take all the credit. I think Phillip must have infused this sweater with his fancy footwork."

As the song ended, I took a step back and did my best to give Wilma a gracious bow.

"It was a pleasure dancing with you, my lady."

"The pleasure was all mine, good sir."

I turned toward Mary and held out my hand. She hesitated before Wilma declared, "There are no wallflowers in this house."

Mary slowly stood but looked anxious as I took her hand.

"Davis, I don't know how to dance. Mom was; she was too far gone to teach me by the time I was old enough to learn."

"That's

okay," I reassured her. "If there is anything that Mom made sure of,

it's that I know how to lead. Just relax, and I will guide you through

it."

Wilma

helped Lane, who had taken over as DJ, to choose a slower song so that

Mary would feel more comfortable, and I heard the opening bars of "What a

Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong. I started to lead Mary through a

slow rumba, and she picked up the steps very quickly. She was a natural.

I felt a sudden stab of regret as we moved together across the floor.

"I'm

sorry. I should have made time to teach you to dance. But the last few

years, it has just taken everything I have to keep us;"

"It's alright. You've had other things on your mind. And look; you are teaching me how to dance, now."

As

Mary grew more confident, I guided her through a simple underarm turn,

and we ended with a dip, which made her giggle and earned a round of

applause from the others. Finally, I turned to Erin, who was sitting on

the couch beside Lane. I suddenly felt very shy and, for the first time

that evening, she looked nervous as well.

"Would you dance with me, Erin?"

She

didn't reply but stood and took my hand. We waited for a moment while

Wilma and Lane chose a new 45 and then listened to the pop and hiss as

it started to play. Soon, an alto saxophone introduced the Henri Mancini

version of "Moon River," and we started a slow waltz. Although there

was space between us, it was bridged by an electric charge that

connected and drew us together.

Even

though I spent most of the dance looking over Erin's shoulder, every

detail of her beauty was etched in my memory, and I felt a warm breeze

pass between us, raising goosebumps on my skin. We barely noticed the

pause as the song ended, and a new one began until Etta James began to

sing.

At last, my love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

The

song was in 4/4 time, so I switched to a foxtrot and Erin followed as

we glided across the smooth wood of the living room floor. I was so

caught up in the moment, and in Erin, that I led her through a turn that

transitioned into an over sway, before I stepped backward, allowing her

to gently pivot into me. Our eyes met and I was lost in them again.

Before we could break the spell, a heavy gust of wind shook the house,

and the power flickered out.

The

room went dark, which sharpened my remaining senses. Suddenly, the

warmth of Erin's breath on my neck felt like wildfire across my skin. We

were motionless for a three-heartbeat eternity before the lights

flickered and came back on. I let go of Erin and felt all of my longing

and awkwardness rush back in.

"Thank you, Erin. That was;" I couldn't finish; words didn't seem enough to express how I felt.

"I

should check the breakers and make sure that everything is alright, and

then we should go. Why don't I wash these clothes and drop them back

for you later."

Wilma just smiled and shook her head.

"If you like them, please keep them. Otherwise, they will just grow old and musty like me."

A

little while later, we said our goodbyes, but I promised to bring Lane

to the hospital the next morning. Wilma told Mary that she would see her

on Wednesday after school and again the next Sunday. I was expecting

Mary to protest, but she just gave a meek, "Yes, Wilma."

I

was nervous when I took Lane to the hospital the next day. The

deductible on our insurance was high enough that we paid for pretty much

anything less serious than a severed limb out of pocket. Erin, however,

was as good as her word. After the X-ray confirmed that there were no

breaks or fractures in the bones around his ankle, she re-wrapped it and

arranged for a pair of loaner crutches that he could use for as long as

he needed them. Before we left, Erin asked me if I wanted to grab a

coffee in the cafeteria, to which I readily agreed. I gave my phone to

Lane so he could amuse himself while Erin and I talked.

"I

just wanted to say how much I appreciate what you did for Gran. I do

what I can, but I spend half my time at the Children's Hospital down in

Grand Rapids right now and I am often on call while I am here. I just

don't have the time to give her the help that she needs."

"Honestly,

it's no big deal. I do a lot of work around Good Hart since the bigger

plumbing companies don't like to travel that far, so I don't mind

looking in on her while I am there. And she seems to have taken a real

interest in Mary, so the least I can do is to bring her some groceries

and help around the place a bit."

Erin pursed her lips and looked like she had just bitten into a lemon.

"The 'least you can do' is more than the rest of our family can be bothered to do put together, so thank you."

"I meant to ask you about that. What did your Gran do to end up so isolated from the rest of your family?"

"The

rest of my family is; there is no nice way to put it, they're snobs.

None of them have any interest in spending time 'up north' as they call

it, and they can't wait for Gran to move into a retirement home and die

so they can get their money and forget about this place. That's why no

one comes to visit Gran anymore, even for Thanksgiving; it's part of

their campaign to convince her to sell her land to the McDougals. Before

you came along, I thought they were going to succeed."

"Well,

excuse my language, but fuck them. I don't know Wilma that well, but I

will do what I can to make sure that she gets to spend her remaining

days in the place that she loves."

"That's

easy to say, but harder to do once the McDougals and their minions

start coming by your place, offering you money and making threats unless

you back off."

"Well,

if they do, they will find out what every teacher who ever taught me

learned the hard way. I am bad at taking orders and even worse at

following instructions. I am not afraid of the McDougal boys."

My

exclamation brought a smile to Erin's pretty face. I decided that I

would be willing to do quite a lot to see that smile on her face again.

But there was one thing I still didn't understand.

"Why

aren't you on board with the rest of your family? You must be under a

lot of pressure to abandon your Gran like the rest of them."

"My

father, Gran's youngest son, Max, died shortly after I was born, and my

mother moved the family to California where she remarried into a family

that had a little money but a great deal of pretension and ambition. My

mother picked up that insatiable need for money and status like it was a

virus.

"When

I was a child, my mother and stepfather spent summers and holidays

traveling the world, staying in places where children weren't welcome.

Although they wanted nothing to do with Gran and Grampy and their

'vermin-filled shack in the middle of nowhere', they were more than

happy to leave me with them while they were away.

"They

would put me on a plane to Grand Rapids while they jetted off to their

spas and their fine dining. Gran and Grampy were the only people who

cared for me, and they became my whole world.

"When

I was 14, I was staying with Gran and Grampy, and I caught a fever that

was so bad that I nearly died. It was a pretty grim time. My parents

even thought about flying home from Monaco to be with me. They didn't,

but it was the only time in my entire childhood that they considered it.

But I will always remember how kind the doctors and nurses were to me

when I was sick. That's why I became a pediatrician and moved home."

"Isn't California home?"

"Home is where the people that you love are, and so this will always be my home. Or it will be until Gran passes on, anyway."

We sat in silence for a while, sipping our coffee. Before long, it was time for me to go.

"This

might sound crazy, but since the rest of your family aren't going to be

here to celebrate Thanksgiving with your Gran, how about you and I try

to give her one more Thanksgiving to remember."

Erin brightened at the idea, and the smile returned to her face.

"That would be amazing! Why don't I give you my number, and we can figure out how to make it happen!"

Chapter 4.

For

the next few weeks, Mary continued to meet with Wilma on Wednesdays and

Sundays. I would often take the opportunity to bring her groceries or

other supplies while I dropped Mary off and, if the weather was

agreeable, do some fishing. Once he could walk without crutches, Lane

came along as well, in quest of another monster steelhead.

Unfortunately, all he caught was some yellow perch and rock bass, but it

was nice to spend the day with him down on the dock.

I

saw Erin a few times at Wilma's as we made plans for Thanksgiving. She

seemed to particularly enjoy talking with me while I split firewood out

by the shed. It was hard work, and I was often drenched with sweat by

the time I was done, but she didn't seem to mind. And she worked while

we talked, helping to stack the larger pieces and collecting the smaller

ones for kindling.

The

one point of contention in our plan was how Erin would get to Wilma's

on Thanksgiving Day. She was slated to work a 12-hour shift the evening

before, ending at seven in the morning, and she worried that if she went

home to rest, she would sleep through the entire day. Her solution was

to drive out to Wilma's after her shift and catch a few hours of sleep

when she got there. I thought that driving that far after working all

night seemed like a terrible idea, so I offered to give her a ride

instead. She did not like that one bit.

"I don't want you to make an extra trip when I am perfectly capable of driving myself."

It sounded like she was digging in for a fight, so I tried a different tactic to convince her.

"I

need to stop at the hospital anyway, to return Lane's crutches. I can

kill two birds with one stone and pick you up at the same time."

She didn't buy that rationale either so, reluctantly, I resorted to the truth.

"I

am sure you're a great driver, but if you drive yourself, I will be up

that morning anyway, worrying that you are safe. I know it doesn't make

sense, but I have been looking after my siblings for so long its second

nature for me to worry, and I can't seem to turn it off. So please, let

me pick you up. But for me, not for you. And do you know how rarely I

get to be gallant these days? I will feel like your knight in shining

armor."

That finally got a laugh from Erin.

"Alright,

you win. Why don't you pick me up at 7:15 at the hospital? You can

sweep me up onto your trusty steed and carry me away to Gran's house."

"If by trusty steed you mean rusty old GMC truck, then it's a deal."

The

morning of Thanksgiving dawned chilly and gray, with a cold wind

blowing in off the lake. I was up early to make sure that I made it to

the hospital on time, and I was listening to the local AM country

station as I drove when the DJ started his break.

"A

happy Thanksgiving to all our listeners. If you're on the roads today,

be aware that there is a severe weather warning in effect for the area

north of Cadillac and into the upper peninsula. We're expecting a

combination of high winds and lake-effect snow to make driving

hazardous, and you should be prepared for possible power interruptions

and outages."

I

was relieved that Erin had agreed to let me pick her up and that I had

invested in good snow tires for my pickup. The snow had already started

by the time I reached the hospital, and I pulled my jacket tightly

around me as I went inside. I dropped Lane's crutches with the duty

nurse and waited for several minutes before Erin arrived. She looked

exhausted, and the gentle smile that I loved was nowhere in evidence.

"Hey, Erin. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just had a long shift, but I am ready to head out."

She came up to me and gave me a hesitant look.

"Actually, I could really use a hug if that's alright."

Without

a word, I wrapped my arms around her, and she buried her face in my

sweater. Hidden from the world by the folds of my jacket, I felt her

body start to shake. The tremors lasted for a minute before they gentled

and then finally stopped. I looked out the window at the falling snow

to give her a moment to compose herself.

"Let's head to Gran's house. This weather isn't going to get better any time soon."

With that, we got in my truck and started the drive up to Good Hart. Erin sat in silence and looked out the window.

"If you want to talk, I probably can't help with doctor problems; but I am a good listener."

It took Erin a minute before she opened up.

"Most

of the time, I love being a pediatrician. Kids come to me scared and in

pain, and I help them to get better. But sometimes, it's just too much.

Around midnight last night, an ambulance brought in a mother and

daughter. Her boyfriend had been drinking; and he got violent. The

little girl tried to protect her mother and; and;

"It's

one thing to treat a grown woman, you know. I mean it's still pretty

bad, but; that little girl. Fuck. One thing I've learned from this job

is that monsters are real."

I wanted to give Erin another hug, but since I was driving, I just reached over to take her hand.

"I'm sorry."

My words seemed so incredibly inadequate; considering what she had just dealt with; but she squeezed my hand.

"Thanks for listening."

We

drove on in silence, and by the time we pulled into Wilma's laneway,

Erin was gently snoring with her head against the window. I stopped as

close as I could to the house before lifting her out of the cab. She

tucked her head into my shoulder, and I carried her inside, where Wilma

was already busy in the kitchen. She came out to greet us, and I spoke

to her in a low voice.

"Erin had a very tough night. I think some rest will do her a world of good."

Wilma

helped Erin out of her boots and coat and then showed us through to the

guest bedroom, where I laid Erin on the bed. The room was filled with

pictures of Erin from when she was younger; standing on the dock with an

older but handsome man who I guessed must be Phillip, curled up in a

ball on the sofa, book in hand, and smiling in her cap and gown as she

graduated. In each picture, I could see hints of the beautiful woman she

would become.

By

the time I returned with the rest of my family, the storm had begun to

pick up. Snow drifts were accumulating against the house and shed, so we

brought everything with us into the house that we might need for the

evening. It took some convincing, but Sharon and I took over in the

kitchen while Wilma, Alison, Mary, and Lane started a game of Scrabble

in the living room.

Once

the preparations were well underway, I laid in as much wood for the

fireplace as I could. With the high winds and heavy snow, I was worried

that we might lose power, and I wanted to make sure that we prepared,

just in case. The radiators and boiler would provide almost no heat if

there was a prolonged power outage, but the fireplace had a

high-efficiency insert that would keep the house warm, as long as we

built up a good bed of coals.

Lane

insisted on helping me with the firewood, and after a half dozen trips

to the woodshed and back, we both looked like live-action versions of

the abominable snowman. Wilma showed some sympathy for our plight, while

our sisters had a good-natured laugh at our expense.

By

the early afternoon, dinner was almost ready, and Wilma sent me to wake

Erin. She had barely moved since I had tucked her in and seemed so

peaceful in her sleep. I leaned over and spoke softly to her until she

opened her eyes. After a moment of confusion, she broke into a shy

smile.

"I guess we made it to Gran's."

"That we did, we got here close to six hours ago."

Her eyes flew open, and she tried to get up until I reassured her.

"We've

got things under control. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.

Take your time; and maybe give yourself a few minutes for that pillow

line on your cheek to fade."

I turned to leave, so she could have some privacy, but she reached out and took my hand.

"I

just wanted to say thank you again for earlier. I am not used to having

someone I can talk to; someone I can trust. It's only been Gran and

Grampy, and me for so long, and I didn't want to burden them. But I

shouldn't have dumped my troubles on you like that, we barely know each

other."

"I

was just glad that you felt comfortable enough to share how you felt

with me. Today was probably the worst day of that little girl's life. I

am sure she was terrified, confused, and in a lot of pain. But what

she'll remember is the angel who comforted her and treated her with

kindness and love.

"I

need to get back to the kitchen, or I will burn something. Fair

warning, this is my first time cooking a Thanksgiving turkey, so you may

want to load your plate up with fixings and sides, just in case."

As

it turned out, the turkey wasn't perfect, but it wasn't that bad, and

the gravy was tasty as heck (probably because Wilma made it.) We had

mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, and peas as sides, with the obligatory

cranberry sauce (from a can). The conversation at dinner was a chaotic

mixture of laughter, stories, and the kind of teasing that you only get

when you bring five siblings together over a hearty meal.

It

didn't take Erin long to choose a side in the battle of the siblings,

and soon, it was the four girls against Lane and me, with Wilma as our

impartial referee. I don't know how Lane felt, but for me, it was worth

being ganged up on just to see Erin and my sisters smiling and laughing.

Although he tried to hide it, it was clear that Lane still had a bit of

a crush on Erin, so I imagined that he was just fine with making her

smile as well.

For

dessert, Erin brought pumpkin and apple pies that she had bought at the

bakery in Petoskey, which we ate with some vanilla ice cream from the

local creamery. I was sure there would be some dessert left over, given

the amount that we all ate for dinner, but somehow, we finished it all.

Everyone pitched in with the dishes and then we moved to the living room

where we played cards and some more board games.

As

we played, Mary asked Wilma about some of her more memorable

Thanksgivings, and she got a faraway smile. For the next hour, she

regaled us with stories of humble times with the kids by the lake and,

in later days, fancier celebrations with some of the families that

Phillip befriended while they sat for portraits. As our last game of

Scrabble ended, Sharon looked at Wilma with a mischievous grin.

"Mary

was telling me about the dance party that you had a few weeks ago here

in your living room. Rumor has it that my big brother can dance! I was

hoping, if you asked him nicely, that we could all see him in action."

Wilma got up from her chair and started to move toward the hall closet.

"Lane, come along and help, please. I am far too old to be carting around a heavy record player."

Lane

hopped up and went to help Wilma, while the rest of us began to move

the furniture out of the way. As Lane set up, Wilma admonished the rest

of us.

"Remember, there is only one rule about dancing in my house: no wallflowers."

With

that, Lane started the first song, and I asked Wilma to dance. Alison

followed suit, asking Lane to dance, and soon she was teaching him how

to lead. Finally, Erin stood as well and gave a deep bow to Mary.

"It would be my honor, enchanting lady, if I could have this dance."

With

a laugh, Mary stood, and soon we were all moving around the room,

trying not to bump into each other or step on each other's toes. For the

next hour, we danced, laughed, and pretty much forgot about the world

outside. Lane even got up the courage to dance with Erin, although he

stayed so far away from her that you would have thought she was

radioactive.

I

took a couple of turns with Erin and was amazed at the way she melted

into my arms. When we danced, there was a wave of knowing smirks from my

sisters and a pleased smile from Wilma, but I didn't care. I could have

danced with her all night. Unfortunately, during my third dance with

Erin, the real world decided to interrupt our festivities.

Erin

and I had just started a turn when the power went out. I instinctively

pulled Erin into my arms to protect her, and then I leaned in through

the darkness and kissed her. She returned the kiss, ran her hand through

my hair, and let out a small moan.

"Do you think the power will come back on?"

Lane's question cut through the fog of my lust and longing.

"Probably

not until sometime after the storm has passed. So, we should all plan

on spending the night here and then figuring things out in the morning."

With

Wilma's agreement, we got settled in for the evening. After some

protest, Wilma agreed to sleep in the guest room since it had a direct

line of sight to the thermoelectric stove fan that helped circulate the

heat from the fireplace. My three sisters slept in Wilma's bed, both to

share body heat and because it was the larger of the two beds in the

house. Lane slept on the couch, while Erin and I slept on the floor in

front of the fireplace.

Erin

laid out an older sleeping bag, for comfort, with some bedding and

blankets on top. In deference to Lane, she waited until she was under

the blankets before she shimmied off her pants, while I stoked the

fireplace. I made one more pass through the house, to check on Wilma and

my sisters, but it seemed they had already fallen asleep. Even Lane had

passed right out, despite his proximity to the pants-less Erin.

I

set a quiet alarm on my phone for two-hour intervals so that I could

get up and add wood to the fire, ensuring that it would last all night.

Looking down at the makeshift bed where Erin was watching me, I suddenly

felt incredibly shy and anxious. I took my sweater and pants off as

quickly as I could and set them on a chair before crawling under the

blankets next to her. I didn't want to be presumptuous, so I stayed as

far over to one side as I could. I had just settled in when I heard

Erin's soft voice from behind me.

"You can come a little closer. I won't bite, you know."

My

brain froze with indecision, but my heart knew the score and it started

beating at a furious rate. I heard her shifting behind me, and I felt

an arm wrap itself around my chest. My senses were on fire. The faint

scent of lavender from her hair washed over me like a field of

wildflowers.

"Was everyone safe when you made your patrol?"

I

slowly rolled over so that my forehead was lightly touching hers, and I

could see the flickering of the fire reflected in her eyes.

"I

know it's silly, but I can't sleep until I know that everyone I love is

safe. Even when she is away at college, Alison texts me each night to

let me know she is okay. I will make another round later after I stoke

the fire."

"It's not silly at all; I feel safe when I'm with you too.

 Why don't you tell me your story, Davis Crawford."

She must have felt me stiffen, and she started to lightly brush her fingertips through the hair on the back of my neck.

"You don't have to if you're not comfortable with me yet, but I would like to hear it someday when you're ready."

We

sat in silence for another few minutes, while the tension slowly

drained from my body. It had been over 15 years; since before the drugs

and alcohol got too bad with my mother; since someone had touched me

with kindness and love, and I was helpless before the gentle onslaught

of Erin's fingers. Eventually, I started talking.

"Things

weren't always bad with Mom; I remember there being more laughter than

anger when I was little. She was very beautiful, and there was a

procession of men in her life, even back then, but most of them treated

me well. I guess they wanted to make a good impression on her. When I

was four or five, though, she took up with a man from a rougher crowd.

She started in with the drinking and drugs, and they never really

stopped. She got pregnant with that man, and Alison was born. From

there, it was like a rock sliding down the side of a hill. It starts

slowly, but soon it's rolling downhill in leaps and bounds.

"After

Sharon was born, fewer men came around. My mom was still beautiful, but

how many guys are interested in a single mother who has three kids from

three different men? I had just turned ten when she left me in charge

for the weekend and flew down to Vegas with some friends from the club

where she waitressed and danced. A bit more than nine months later, she

had Mary.

"The

one thing I can say for my mom is that she mostly managed to stay clean

while she was pregnant. But once Mary arrived, the hill got steeper,

and the rock started plummeting downwards. As fewer men showed an

interest in her, Mom had to blame someone, and we kids were handy

targets. That's when the hitting started. I learned pretty quickly that

she didn't much care who she hit, so I made sure that I was always close

at hand, to try and spare the little ones. If she was going to throw

plates at someone, I figured it had better be me.

"By

the time I was 12, I was the only one caring for my siblings. When Mom

came home drunk or stoned after her shift at the bar, I would steal

enough of her tip money to buy food for my sisters' lunches. That was

the worst of it, and I didn't think that we would make it through. I am

not sure we would have without our landlord, Mr. Johnson.

"He

lived in the apartment below us and would take us in on the weekends

when my mother was out with her boyfriends, feed us dinner, and let us

watch a little television. I never found out why he lived such a lonely

life, but he helped me keep our family together until I was old enough

to handle things myself, so I will always be grateful to him."

I could see tears starting to pool in the corner of Erin's eyes.

"You don't need to hear the rest of this;"

Erin stopped me mid-sentence by kissing my lips.

"You

never got to be a kid, Davis. My whole life I felt sorry for myself

because my parents didn't want or care for me, but at least I had Gran

and Grampy. You had no one."

Even

though we were lying on an old lumpy sleeping bag on a rough hardwood

floor with only a fireplace for heat, I had never felt safer in my life

than I did with her right then.

To be continued in part 3. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.