There s Something About Alice
- 3 years ago
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Cindi walked over and clasped our hands in hers.
"Mom? Dad? Do you love me?" she whispered.
"Cindi, you know we do," I answered for us, wondering why she felt she had to ask.
"Mom? Dad? Do you love me? Please, you have to say it. Please."
I squeezed her hand, and the memory of the time we made love, our climax like a spring rainstorm, and the feeling as we basked in the joy and beauty afterwards, came unbidden into my mind. I wanted to smile, but it was a little hard under the circumstances.
"I love you, Cindi. I think you know how much," I told her.
She smiled at me, a special, gentle smile, squeezed my hand in return, said "Thank you," and I realized with a sense of shock and wonder that she had seen that image go through my mind.
"I love you too, Cindi, more than I have shown you and more than I can possibly tell you," Victoria answered. I saw the look on her face as she had the same experience I did; the realization in her mind that Cindi did know. We looked at each other in confusion; what was going on here? Cindi was speaking again.
"Mom, Dad, I know I'm not good at a lot of things, like Amy, she's like a superwoman or something, but please, Mom, Dad, please, would you trust me this time, please trust me, that I can do this? Please? For Amy's sake? Please?" She seemed calm now. There were tears in her eyes, but they were no longer tears of fear or rage.
She looked so intense; I had to do what I could for her. Victoria looked at me and nodded.
"We trust you, honey. Do what you can." I had no idea what I was telling her to do, or why, but if it helped her deal with what was coming, I would do it. I just was not sure how I was going to deal with what was coming.
She looked down, closed her eyes, and whispered, "One more time, Mom and Dad, and really believe it this time. For Amy's sake, do you love me and trust me?" She seemed to be concentrating, and suddenly I felt a wash of love and trust pour through me. Victoria's gasp, told me she felt the same.
Cindi led us over to Amy's bed. She took one of Amy's hands and laid it in mine. I clasped it, half feeling, half hoping that I felt her squeeze back faintly. Cindi smiled at me.
"Yes, she knows you are here."
Then she took Amy's other hand and laid it in Victoria's hand. Finally, she took each of our remaining hands in hers.
"Close your eyes. Think about nothing except how much you love me." I did as she asked. I did not know what was going on, but my girls had always been special, and if this would help either one of them, I would do it. I thought again about the time like the spring rain. Cindi squeezed my hand. I thought about all the wonderful times I had had with her. As I continued to think how much I loved her, I could sense a blue fog seeming to come over my eyes and seep into my mind. It was blue, a deep blue, the same color as Cindi's eyes! The blue deepened the more I thought of her. Images ran through my mind of the times I had enjoyed with Cindi. But somehow, they were different. I was seeing Cindi's memories of our love and wonderful times together in my mind! I could feel the love building up in me, higher and higher. I was so full it felt like I was going to burst. When I felt I no longer could hold it in, Cindi spoke again.
"Think of how much you love Amy. Think of your baby. Give her all your love."
Interesting. I could hear Cindi's voice ... in my head!
I thought of spending Sunday together with Amy. Rubbing her temples, her stomach. I thought of running my fingers up the insides of her leg. Cindi squeezed my hand. I thought of all the times we cuddled in bed together. The haze in my mind turned green, beautiful, deep green. Amy's eyes!
My God! I could feel her! I basked in the joy of feeling at one with my girls. I could feel Victoria there, too. I was amazed at the depth of love I felt from her, for me and for her babies. And for the one that wasn't there. I didn't know what that meant. I felt the huge bubble of love slowing, leaving me, colored bright green as it left. I wondered what it looked like in the room. In my mind, I saw Amy lying on the bed, green tendrils floating across to her body and disappearing inside. Cindi's voice whispered in my mind, "It looks like that," and she giggled. I had never seen anything so beautiful.
I heard Cindi in my mind again. "This is our secret, just for us. Even Amy doesn't know. Tell no one." The green faded.
Suddenly we were standing there, by the bed, the three of us hugging each other, our eyes open, a warm sense of calm, love, and peace filling us. It seemed like we had walked over to the bed just a minute ago, but a quick glance at my watch showed a half hour had passed. I had only a vague remembrance of something too weird to be possible having happened.
"Hey. Don't I get a hug, too?" a weak voice asked. We turned quickly around, to see Amy, eyes open, smiling faintly. Amy looked awful, but she looked better. Some color had returned.
Victoria and I wrapped our arms around her, hugging and kissing her as we cried.
A look of panic crossed Amy's face.
"Cindi! Where is Cindi?"
I looked around. Cindi was sitting in a chair, leaning back against the wall. She looked tired, really tired, and sick, her eyes half closed and face pale. She looked old, and ... sick.
"Dad! Bring her over here," Amy said.
We helped her walk over and sat her on the bed next to Amy
"Cindi, what did you do?"
They looked into each other's eyes, communicating with each other somehow.
"You goofball, what am I going to do with you? Thank you," Amy whispered.
Amy called me over close to her.
"Daddy, Cindi needs something from the nursing station. Can you get it for her, please?" She pulled me down and whispered into my ear.
I stared at her in surprise. "Are you sure, Amy? If you are wrong, things will get awful interesting real quick!"
"Trust me, Daddy."
Well, I had learned a lot about trust in the last few minutes. I kissed her forehead, hurried out to the nursing station, and I asked the nurse to prepare what I needed. She looked at me in astonishment.
"Are you sure?" she asked, assuming it was for me. "If you have digestive problems, suffer from migraines, have heart problems, or latent diabetes, things will get awful interesting real quick around here!" She didn't understand why I laughed.
"Trust me," I winked. I got what I needed and returned to the room, handing Cindi a glass of murky white, foul smelling liquid.
Cindi crinkled up her nose in disgust. "Are you sure about this, Amy? This stuff smells yucky!"
"Drink it all down. Good news. It tastes worse than it smells. And perhaps ... next time you'll think twice about saving my life," she teased.
After Cindi, complaining loudly and continuously about why this couldn't be a pill, drank it all down, two things happened almost simultaneously. She perked up, her color returned, and her energy level returned. She looked her age again, and no longer looked ill.
At that same moment the monitors hooked up to Amy went crazy. Her blood pressure returned to normal, as did her temperature, her pulse stabilized, her respiration deepened and evened out, the irregularities in her EKG disappeared, and her rash faded almost away. Alarms that were set to sound with significant changes in either direction were beeping incessantly. I laughed. They all looked at me quizzically.
"Wait for it," I chuckled.
Almost immediately, the door burst open and the nurse and doctor ran in. They paused slightly when they saw Cindi, looking at her nervously, but she smiled sweetly at them.
"Come on in! I'm human again!" she quipped. Then she looked at us and winked. She ran over to Amy and hugged and kissed her. "I'm so glad to see you again."
"Me too! What happened?"
"Don't know," Cindi answered. "We were standing here, then all of a sudden I felt sick and you started waking up. What did you do?" Cindi asked innocently.
Amy rolled her eyes and gave her the Amy look (YES, she is getting better!). "I'll talk to you later," she murmured.
The doctor politely told the girls to quit gabbing and let him give Amy a checkup. Amy politely told him to talk to the finger (Poor Amy. So innocent. She doesn't know these things. She had no idea she held up the wrong finger!), and all of us, including the doctor, burst out laughing. She turned red and asked what was wrong. We told her she wouldn't understand.
They kept Amy two more days, trying to find out what had happened. They were expecting her to suddenly get worse again. Finally, on the third day, Amy demanded we either take her home or she was walking out the front door and hitching a ride with the first person that picked her up. If we liked this place so much, we could stay and eat that ... food! Yep, Amy was getting better. She was still weak as a kitten, however. We decided we wouldn't make her hitchhike home.
I refused the wheelchair and told them I would carry Amy out, and picked her up in my arms. She squealed in delight, wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me. She gave me a big kiss, not quite daughterly but not too scandalous, and asked me quietly if I was going to give her another shower. I had not told anybody about that. I told her I was feeling a little weak myself, especially in my arms; I hoped I would not drop her on the way out. She giggled and said she was sure she could find a convenient handle to hold on to with her hands.
That did it! I blushed and decided to quit while I was only way too far behind.
"Sorry, Daddy," she whispered in my ear, while everyone else waited patiently to hear the story behind those comments, but I wasn't talking. It's hard to sound sorry when you are giggling.
Amy had lost weight while she was sick, so she was ravenous. I dropped them off at home and went to buy dinner. I got a sausage and pepperoni pizza for Amy and me and a special for Cindi and Victoria. I also bought a quart of Pistachio ice cream. For those with weak stomachs, you might want to skip the next paragraph at this point.
Ok, remember, I warned you. Amy likes to tale alternate bites of sausage and pepperoni pizza with pistachio ice cream. As Cindi says, sometimes she is just way too gross and disgusting! I told her if she ended up in the hospital again due to gross eating habits, the insurance company would not pay; it does not cover self-abuse. We left her in the kitchen eating alone, telling her we were going into the other room to eat with normal people before we got sick. When we sneaked back in and gave her a tickling attack, her mock sad face got happy and she just beamed. She just loves being teased. "I love you guys," she sighed happily.
Two days after getting home, Victoria had to leave town again. She looked so distraught trying to explain to Amy why she had to leave, but we all understood; all was well. I had as much time off as I needed from work until Amy was better.
The next day she told me I could go into work if I needed to. I flatly and curtly refused, and when I saw her eyes widen I turned and walked away. A few minutes later, a pair of teenage arms slipped around my waist and a pretty little girl snuggled up behind me. Then she gently turned me around and took my hands in hers.
"It wasn't your fault, Daddy," she said softly. "It still would have happened if you would had stayed home from work that day. I didn't feel really bad until shortly before you came home. It wouldn't have mattered". I looked down and felt silly for her having figured me out. The doctor had said the same thing. I was also glad she had not figured out the other reason I felt bad.
"I just don't know what I would do if I lost you," I whispered. She just hugged me.
"It would kind of ruin my whole day, too," she whispered back seriously.
The third day home, Amy announced that she felt dirty and disgusting and we needed to do something about it.
"I thought you were just kidding about giving you another shower," I said, feeling frantic.
"Not shower. Too weak. Bath. Now."
So, I carried her into the bathroom. She waited patiently for me to fill the tub and take her clothes off. I helped her into the tub, she sighed happily as she sank in to the water and soaked for a while.
I got up quietly to leave, but she put her hand on my arm and asked me to stay, then closed her eyes again. I think she just enjoys teasing me to death. She knew the lovely sight her beautiful body made lying naked in that tub.
She asked me to wash her; she said she was too weak to do it properly. I tried, but I was just making a big mess trying to do it with me outside the tub (washing her, I mean). Finally, she took the washcloth away from me.
"This just isn't going to work this way, Daddy. Get you clothes off and get in here and wash me right."
I must have looked like a deer in the headlights, because she cracked up, and then put her hand on my arm affectionately. "I'm not drunk. I'm not going to seduce you. Well, probably not. Not while I'm this weak, anyway! Just kidding! We have already seen all there is to see of each other. Come on."
She lay back and closed her eyes as I got undressed, so I wouldn't be embarrassed. She is such a sweetheart. Then I climbed in behind her and sat down. She snuggled back against me, closed her eyes again, and sighed happily. I proceeded to wash her cute little body all over. I'm sure she must have felt me against her butt, but for once in her life Amy passed up the opportunity to tease. Once I was over my embarrassment, and assured myself that nothing was going to happen, I really enjoyed giving her a bath. She just turned boneless when I washed her hair. She enjoyed it so much she fell asleep. Drying her off was a hell of a lot easier than last time I was in the bathroom with her! We got dressed, and went into the living room, where she sat on the floor in front of me on the couch while I brushed her hair.
If any of you have never brushed female hair, you have to try it. Whether she is 6 or 37, (I've never tried it older than that) it is one of the most sensual (not the same as sexual) things you can do. Washing hair is tied for brushing hair on the sensual scale. They are both about a 15 on a scale of 10. Victoria loves it almost as much as a massage. It had been a long time since I had washed and brushed Amy's hair. I made a mental note to do it again soon. She purred like a kitten as I ran the brush through her long black hair. Not for the first time, I marveled at how much she was an almost exact duplicate copy of Victoria physically. Maybe I should take a bath with Victoria next time she came home.
We did the bath thing a few more times until she was strong enough to take care of herself. The next day I filled the tub before I carried her in and, unbeknownst to her, made it a bubble bath. She squealed with glee when she saw it and I let her enjoy it for quite awhile, giggling and splashing and just generally making a total mess of the bathroom until we finally got around to getting her clean. Just watching her have such a good time made my heart melt, and I hugged her, getting misty-eyed thinking how close I had come to losing her. She looked at me with head cocked to one side, curious as to what I was thinking, then her eyes softened as she seemed to figure it out. She wrapped her arms around my arms, which were around her waist, laid her head against my shoulder, and whispered, "Me too."
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