The train trip continues. A VIP calls Joanie's private cell, providing her with multiple thrills. Joanie glimpses motherhood, in more than one way, her reaction surprises her. Suzy and Joanie have a happy homecoming, Joanie’s tusch stops traffic. Joanie travels to Iowa, gives Eric an ultimatum, “Now get those clothes off, and you’d better be up for it.”

Andy Warhol said, "In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes." What if your 15 minutes came late in life, and fame decided to never let you go? Could you survive the circus your life would become?

P.S. Never trust sneaky authors and their teasers.

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction
This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but since it's fan fiction, who cares? To see the canon Whateley Stories, check out Sapphire's Place,

(http://www.sapphireplace.com/stories/whateley.html), The Crystal Hall, ( http://www.crystalhall.org), or the Big Closet, (http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/taxonomy/term/117)."

Here’s another chapter in part four of my TG/sci-fi/superhero/magic/one-size-fits-all epic. It’s not that bad; I do have an overall story arc in mind, honest. I’m much better than when I started this, though my grammar and spelling remain flawed; ask Itinerant if he is still coherent. (wibble - WIBBLE!!) Foghorn Leghorn? You chickened out on me for the last time. This time it’s personal, “Oh, Colonel Sanders?” (Great. Now I'm getting 'cheep' shots ... Doo-dah! Doo-dah!)

Your constructive criticism and advice continues to help. This is an exercise in the joys of creativity and in appreciation of the wonderful Whateley Universe. Any violations of copyright, trade mark or use of real people or incidents are purely for purposes of humor or parody and done solely for the free enjoyment of the reading public. All rights reserved in perpetuity, John from Wauwatosa WI, 2005-2008.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Jennifer Marie Stevens comes courtesy of Bob Arnold. Really, she’s in this chapter, honest. As to mixing the Zapped and Whateley universes, I have no problems with it. Bob has no problems. This is fan fic and if it still worries you, think of this as this an alternative universe. I mean, it worked for Star Trek TM so...

Chapter 11, it really is, honest: The Homecoming

Various locations in and between Boston Massachusetts, Wisconsin and Iowa, June 01-02, 2007

June 01, 2007

* * * *
In my last entry to this rambling diary/journal/whatever of mine, Suzy and I were on the Lake Shore Limited autotrain waiting for our lunch. I wrote …

‘To be continued, and soon, honest!
No, I mean it.’

Well, I did come back. So there. — Sticks out tongue defiantly though in my case it looks rather sexy or so others tell me..–

* * * *

Our silliness was interrupted by my cell phone. Yes, I was considerate and had it on vibrate. No, I did not wear it positioned to provide cheap thrills when it went off, as temping as it might be to a sadly celibate girl.

“Who is calling me now? I’d better get it. It is my private number.”

“Hello, this is Joanie, who may I help you? Sorry I mean how may I help you?” I giggled. Okay, it was positioned *near* that part of my body when it rang. It was purely by accident I had laid my purse across my lap … I might do that again, oooh.

“You’re in a really good mood, Joanie. Do you have a few minutes? It’s Jen, Jennifer Stevens.”

“Who is it, Joanie?”

“Just some pesky woman, Suzy; I’ll get rid of her.” I said so Jen would overhear. We both giggled, and I heard Jen laugh.

“One of your friends, I presume?”

“Her name is Suzy. We met earlier this year while swimming.”

“Swimming?”

I handed the phone to Suzy. I mouthed to her, “It’s Jennifer Stevens, the actress. Play along with me.”

“Yeah, we met swimming in Lake Wisconsin. Word of advice, don’t swim in a northern lake in early April; it’s freezing. So why are you pestering my friend, bay-ich?” Oh, Suzy was good at this. We broke into giggles and so did Jen.

“I see Joanie has been corrupting another of America’s youth. Wait … Suzy? So you and Joanie met while swimming in Lake Wisconsin in early April? Ah! You’re the girl Joanie saved off of that ferryboat. Put your friend back on, I need to ask her something.”

“Okay, but only if you are nice to her; Joanie is my best friend. Understand?”

“I promise, blonde’s honor!” Jen did this ditzy giggle; my ear was near the cell so I heard it.

“Joanie, she sounds just like you.”

“I do NOT sound like that! I am so not like some totally mindless sex crazy, bimb ... bimb … Fur sure I am not like that!”

“Joanie, dear, as much as I am enjoying your antics, I do have a serious proposition.”

“All right, Jen, but I’m on vacation and you’re spoiling my fun.” I giggled again, and Jen laughed in return.

“I’m calling from New Mexico, and I have a proposition for you … What, no smart-aleck remark?”

“You asked for serious, you’ve got it. When a woman, or anyone with your clout calls, it’s important. I’m listening.”

“When we met in Boston, I left right afterward for New Mexico to shoot my latest adventure film.”

“The entertainment press had something on that; it sounds like one of those films Oscar will ignore, except for *technical* awards, but the box-office will go crazy over.”

“Exactly. I play an Indiana Jones/Laura Croft type and become involved in the discovery and preservation of an ancient sacred ceremonial site. The story the screenplay largely follows is based on the real story of an archaeological find and some illegal activities that could have destroyed it if not for several remarkable people.”

“Ah, so we’re talking grave robbing, artifact smuggling and the like with lots of T & A thrown in -- much of it your delectable body, Jen?”

“I prefer LMC -- Legs, Midriff and Cleavage. I’m at best a fair singer and a so-so actress, but I can bare skin with the best. Throw in some romance and some mystic mumbo-jumbo and you have it.

“Lots of top-notch special effects and some outstanding natural scenery don’t hurt either. Gone with the Wind it ain’t, but it looks like a box office winner whatever the critics' reaction. Mind you, I bare only so much skin, I don’t do naked … Sorry I didn’t mean to insult you, Joanie.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Maybe at some level I felt insulted; though I was sure she didn’t mean it that way.

“I didn’t hurt your feelings, did I, with the comment about nudity? You seem so quiet.” I heard the concern in her voice.

I laughed. “I’m not insulted, Jen. I only did the Playboy stuff to help the school and to have the last laugh on the staffer who submitted my application to pose as a joke.”

“I understand why you did it, pose for Playboy, Joanie … What I mean is I’m personally not comfortable being naked in a film or any form of entertainment. It’s not that I’m ashamed of my body, far from it. I simply believe that too often nudity is used to cover-up for a poor script or worse. I’m not implying it can’t ever be justified artistically or on socio/political grounds. It’s simply not *me*.

“It’s not *me* either, usually,” I snickered, “but one time and for the school scholarship fund, why not?

“You really feel this good about the film, Jen?”

“I have every confidence in its success. The same college student who wrote the Erin Flynn episode about a murder at a college wrote this one and is penning another Erin Flynn I may guest star in as myself.”

“Must be someone special to be that good so young. I’ve heard the creator/producer of Erin Flynn is very selective in choosing scripts.”

“The writer is very special and something of an adoptive sister of mine. The young woman has a great talent, and I am happy this will promote her career. Understand, I would not have used her story unless it was good, Joanie. I called because filming is winding down. Things have gone very well. We have a few scenes to finish, and I’d like to offer you a role.”

“Me? A cameo in your blockbuster? I’m flattered, but I’ve never acted. Doctor Who will be my first, and likely my last-ever, acting job.”

“Joanie, don’t lie to an expert. I pulled a few favors. I have copies of your work for NOVA and your audition with David Tenant for Doctor Who. You have real potential, and it’s not just because the camera loves you.”

“The only reason the camera *loves* me is I have a pretty face, I’m tall and have tits the size of Cleveland.”

“Hardly Cleveland, more like Texas, but that is not the point. The point is I think you would boost the popularity of my film. I am particular about *the business*. I may do mostly fluff material, but it's always done with class and it's entertaining; the audience gets full value for their money. Ask your Warners producer, he’ll tell you true. Ask the host of that *other* late night show.”

“Oh, you mean Jay.” Notice I had not pounced on Jen’s unfortunate double use of *point*, talk about your double-entendre …’ and I have the pair of *entendre’s* to do it’. Read that in a Groucho voice and its much funnier. I was so proud I resisted; I can be a good girl when I want to.

“Yes.” Jen faked a cough. I tried hard not to laugh ... I failed. “It’s a great opportunity and would only take a day or two. You said you’re on vacation, Joanie; why not spend part of it out here? We’re at this great resort in the high desert canyon country. They have a natural hot spring soaking pool, mud baths, wildlife trails, and food to die for. You’d love it. I built a guest cabin here just for that reason, and so has Alexis Eden, the star of Erin Flynn. I could get you into the real Anasazi site that inspired the movie.”

“You’re offering all of this to persuade me to appear on Around Midnight Jen?”

“There is that too, Joanie. I find the better I know someone, the better we are on the show.”

“Can’t argue with that, Jen, But…”

“Oh-oh, this sounds bad.”

“I have to get Suzy to her grandparent’s house in Milwaukee tomorrow to a secure meeting with her parents. My friends at MSG are providing protection, but the people who artificially triggered her mutation are still at large and dangerous. That was why I was in Hawaii for Leah; the same thing happened to her and to two others I know of....”

“See Suzy off safely, and then fly out. I can get you a good, discreet charter. My people are very security conscious,” Jen interrupted.

“... then I’m off to visit friends in Madison and Des Moines … very close friends.”

“Ah, the wannabe boyfriend is not so much a *wanna* as an *is*?”

“It’s as I told Ms Carson, ‘Damn straight, Skippy.’ Or more precisely, it’s as *is* as the law and good sense allow. I’d appreciate it if you kept our budding romance a strict secret, Jen.”

“I understand; your private life is just that, private. I’ve fought hard to keep mine that way.”

“Jen, thanks. I’m glad you understand where I’m coming from. I’m very fond of Eric and would never want to hurt him … Um, you never heard that name.”

“What name … Joanie, is it?”

“Exactly,” I giggled. “Beyond that, I love the family, and their mom, Babs, is pregnant. I’m her personal cheerleading squad. I owe it to them to help out.”

“It could be done after the main filming is finished. We’re bound to re-shoot some scenes, possibly well into June. A way could be found to work you in after the fact. That’s why editors and special effects people are paid so well. You worked in front of a *green screen* for much of your NOVA work, so it would be nothing new to you.”

“Late June is Wales and a busy two weeks filming so that’s out, period. As to the first half of June … I wish I could. It would be great fun, but I cannot see how I could swing it and not hurt my dearest friends. I’m not saying no, but I doubt it can be done. Plus, once the Doctor Who episodes are broadcast, my acting career will be dead.”

“I seriously doubt that, Joanie. Here’s a thought: you could consider an appearance in my film as practice for Doctor Who , just absent the big blue box and the BBC gravel pits”

“You ARE a geeky girl, Jen. I agree it would be fun and an education for me, but I can’t see it working out.”

“Well, I tried; you still have my private number?”

“You bet. If I get a free day, I’ll call you. I am thinking seriously about appearing on Around Midnight during the New York State Fair run. Thanks for calling. Those added little polite details do impress me.”

“It’s the way I am. Treat people the way you want to be treated.”

“Jen, if I do come to Syracuse, I have this group of close friends at school. You’ve already met two, Pinky and Suzy. Could they come and see the show, maybe from backstage? They are clever kids and would appreciate seeing what goes into producing a show. There are nine of us, including myself.”

“Consider it done, Joanie. Can we agree to a date?”

“Let’s talk in July after summer school has settled in -- sometime after the fourth.”

“You have a deal. The offer to appear in one of my films stands, Joanie. I’m serious; if you want to pursue acting, I can help. I work with Wayne Zachery; he produces TV dramas and films in addition to Around Midnight. I know good people at Mouse World, and I am in negotiations to do a film with Richard Thorn. There’s a man who knows how to keep his audience happy. I’d bet any of these people would jump at a chance to use you.”

“I’ll think about it. And Jen, don’t feed me straight lines like that last one -- ‘jump at a chance to *use* you.’ I barely stopped myself. Please do call me occasionally. I find a good whack on the head with a 2-by-4 does wonders to get my attention.”

“Oh, Joanie dear, that shouldn’t be a problem. Speaking of 2-by-4’s, the July issue of Playboy is out. Believe me, if you weren’t already a hot commodity, that issue alone would make you one. You will get a lot of offers, and soon. Talk to someone you trust before accepting any. Your Warners producer is respected in the business; ask him. Feel free to ask my advice. Anything I’m not qualified to handle, Wayne's people will gladly do for you, I promise. There are a lot of sleazy people out there.”

“They don’t know me v-very well, hee hee hee hee hee!”

“Bugs?”

“My personal hero. Don’t worry, I may look naíve but am not stu …stu … stu … a dumb blonde.” I giggled. “That would be like totally … so not kewl, yah know?”

“Ewh! That’s frighting how well you do that. You’re almost a bad as me.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Jen. I need to go, they’re bringing our lunch. It’s trout. I half expect to see Cary Grant and James Mason.”

“Don’t take that bus out of Chcago and get off at Prairie Stop.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for cropdusters, and no way am I getting near Mount Rushmore. Thanks for calling; I mean it.”

* * * *

Suzy and I concentrated on our meal, and soon were fed and content. Our previous spot on the upper level of our coach was taken, but we found acceptable seating next to a young family with several children.

This one lttle girl, the oldest child, keep sneaking peeks at me. By little girl, I meant she couldn’t have been more than five.Her siblings were a toddler, a boy I think, and a baby a few months old at most. “Mommy, look.”

“Look at what, hon?”

“Look Mommy! It ‘portant.”

“So what am I supposed to look at?” Mom clearly recognized me but was playing with her child.

“Mommy, her!” The girl pointed at me and sounded frustrated.

“It’s rude to point at people, Di.”

“But Mommy!” Di was stressing out.

The mother turned to me. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but my daughter Diana thinks you’re somebody famous and has to meet you. I imagine you value your privacy, Ms. Brown. I couldn't help but recognize you, too. I’m sorry, for both of us,”

“Why should you be? I got excited at all sorts of things, at that age. Kids are naturally curious, so I don't mind. You asked nicely, too; it's okay. I have to ask, Diana as in the late …?”

“I thought she was so elegant, when I was a little girl. I suspect, when it’s her turn, her first daughter will be named Joan.”

“You're kidding?”

“The truth.”

“Joanie, put the kid out of her misery.”

“Right, Suzy.”

“Do you want to sit next to me, Diana, if your mommy says it’s okay?”

Diana waited, staring at her mommy.

“Oh, alright, but don’t be a pes …”

I was instantly engulfed in Diana. And I thought Mel was a tad enthusastic!

“You so pretty, like the Little Mermaid. Ah … you seen The Little Mermaid, Joanie?” She was hesitant. I guess I intimidated her.

~~Lord, another kid bites the dust courtesy of Mouse World and all those animated films. But then I saw Bambi at four and it warped my brrrain.~~ I chuckled quietly at the thought.

“I’ve seen most of it. “Under the Sea” is a catchy tune. I look like Ariel?”

“Yeah.-My-friend-Madison-says-you-look-like-Barbie.” The *dam* broke and the words poured out.

“Is Barbie a friend of yours or a friend’s older sister?”

Dianna giggled. “No,-Barbie-the-doll …a-Barbie-doll.” She said confidently. “You-sing-pretty. Momma-likes-you-too-she-listens-everyday.”

“You’re a fan?”

The mom nodded.

This prompted Diana to tell me all about her home and her mom and her baby brother, her kittycat and … You get the picture. Fortunately at her age, the energy reserves ran down fast. She leaned into me as she tired, gently propping herself up with shoulder against me at first.

“Are you okay, Diana? Want to sit with your mom?”

“No. I am a little tired. I be okay… Where you get such pretty — yawn — clothes? I like your hair.”

I stroked her head softly, her hair was like the finest silk. “Your hair is so soft and pretty, Diana. You must take good care of it,huh?”

She nodded back at me, her eyes half closed and a smile on her face. Her *motor* was winding down fast, yet she was supremly happy.

After ten minutes of non-stop questioning, Diana fell asleep in my lap.
She lay with my left arm wrapped around her like a blanket, her head cradled between my arm and the bottom of my left breast.

“I can pick her up, Joanie.”

I didn’t have the heart to disturb her, and I didn’t want to. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. She’s quite a sweet girl.”

It felt odd yet satisfing somehow. I thought she was the most precious thing and that thought didn’t disturb me in the least. Eventually I nodded off.

* * * *

I don't recall much, other than I felt contented. The next thing I remember was Suzy gently waking me as the mom, Linda, detached Diana from me saying, “That was sweet of you. Di will talk of this for months. You made her very happy. I imagine you may want to eat; they just called your numbers, or so Suzy here informed me.”

“It was my pleasure. You have a darling daughter. If the rest of your children turn out like her you will be a lucky woman.”

Suzy and I hurried off to the dining car and a much appreciated dinner. I had some sort of meatpie, and Suzy had a burger with the works. We split a basket of onion rings. Real healthy. The sun had started to set, and the land took on a surreal aspect.

“Joanie, can we walk the train? I want to see all of it at least once.”

“A walk will do us good,” I agreed. I think she suggested it so I wouldn’t get engulfed by the Di-monster.

“And by the time we get back Diana will be in bed with any luck.”

“Suzy, that’s Di-abolical” We giggled. I felt a little sad, but why?

Suzy snickered, as we walked.

“What gives?”

“Nothing.”

“Suzy, you’re a terrible liar. What’s going on here?”

“We’re going for a walk?”

“Suzy!”

"Okay, it’s … when Diana fell asleep in your lap, and you nodded off, the expression on your face was so sweet. It was like one of those Madonna and child paintings; you had a look of absolute contentment. It could have been a cover for a woman’s magazine or an Ivory Snow box.”

“I do remember feeling strangely happy with her on my lap.”

“Good, you won’t mind that I shot a few photos, Joanie.”

“Suzy, Diana is someone else’s child. You could get in trouble.”

“I got her mom’s permission. I took some with her camera, too, so Diana will have a memento.”

“Okay, but be careful; some people don’t like it when you take their picture. In big public areas it’s one thing, but up close … And thanks, I think I’d like to see it”

“Somebody wants to be a mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy!” She sang the last bit like a school kid teasing another. You know, 'na, na-na, na-na, na'!

“Yeah, right,” I muttered, but deep down inside …

Sometimes *I* scare myself.

* * * *

We walked though the various coaches forward, then back to the club car at the tail of the train. They had a small bar, places for entertainment, card playing tables, a few arcade/video games and the like. They carded everyone, but we only ordered sodas to be safe. A four-person combo was setting up as we sat down: a male guitarist, keyboard player and percussionist and a female guitarist/singer. They were pretty good, performing old jazz classics -- mostly forties and fifties stuff. They played a little oldies rock-and-roll and some country, but jazz was nearest to their hearts. It was a nice way to let our food settle and simply relax.

“They’re good, and the lady's very good; not as good as you, but still.”

“Any requests?” the singer asked.

“Yes,” Suzy called out. “My friend likes all kinds of music, but is particualry fond of songs with a lot of emotion in them. Do you know 'Crying' or 'Unchained Melody'?”

“You don’t ask for much, do you? They are lovely songs, but it’s hard to do them justice with such a small band.”

“I’ll be right back!”

They went and did another request, as I tore after Suzy. I caught up with her as she was coming back with my Les Paul and amp.

“Are you nuts?”

“Joanie, you know you want to sing. Let's show off for the people; it will be fun.”

* * * *

That girl will get into a lot of trouble someday with her powers of persuasion -- normal human powers, not mutant. Though since she can copy other's powers ... I wonder? Nah! We got back to the club car, and she walked right up to the singer.

“Told you I’d be back; I had to get my friend's guitar and amp. We play together in a band in school. She’s very good.”

“That’s nice.” The singer decided to play along, figuratively speaking. “What’s her name?”

I stepped forward. “I’m Joan, but you can call me Joanie.”

“Eek!”

-- *Thud!*--

Despite the awkward start -- a few cuts and scrapes, but no major injuries from her faint -- the evening turned out well. Suzy and I did several songs with them, and it sounded nice. We turned into bed early to be fully rested for tomorrow, the day we would drive to my aunt and uncle's; then I’d drive on alone to Iowa. I was worried something would go terribly wrong tomorrow, but managed to sleep satsifactorally. I had two dreams that night that were odd, seriously odd. One was naughty and … that rocking motion really does help you sleep, though it did make me dream of Eric and I … but then what doesn’t?

The other dream was of that summer day in a park. I’d had it before, but it was more detailed this time. There was Eric -- I think it was him -- but he was older, in his twenties, maybe thirty tops, and he looked … I’m drooling thinking of him. He was flipping burgers on a portable grill as two identical, tall, redheaded high-school girls helped him. A boy-girl pair of maybe four-year-olds played near me in a sandbox as several animals watched us. I’d thought they were cats when I dreamt this earlier but they were clearly mongooses. Then I saw myself, eight, maybe nine months pregnant and smiling. I don’t remember anymore.
~~But if Eric is thirty and our oldest kids are in high school, why am I not in prison?~~
This dream is really beginning to worry me.

* * *

Saturday June 02, 2007

We made excellent time on the Lakeshore Limited auto-train from Boston to Chicago. The Hiawatha was not set up as an auto-train — it is primarily a commuter line connecting downtown Chicago to downtown Milwaukee -- so we drove the 90 miles to Milwaukee. The Lakeshore Limited was not an Auto-Train when I left Chicago back in December on my trip to Whateley; they added that when the gas prices shot up … again. Having taken the overnight train, and it being the weekend, the Chicago traffic was not as daunting as say a Friday rush-hour, thankfully. Driving my  ¾ ton blast resistant crew cab, I was less concerned than driving in Chicago on my grandfather's Harley last December, though I still was not happy with the congestion. I would never make it as a commuter in LA or some other city with serious traffic problems — though maybe in an M1 Abrams tank … fully armed.

I do know Suzy and I got some strange looks from our fellow drivers. I believe it came down to a combination of “Did you see who was driving that truck? Damn, I swear it was that Joanie, the sexy singer,” and it being a hot day. It was already 80 and humid at 8 o’clock, so Suzy and I were not wearing a lot.

She was in this daring halter top and shorts combo with built-in undergarments. They were practical and suited her build. My cuz’ is no slouch in the breast department, but then neither am I. I was in a tight-fitting, man’s-style sleeveless *A* undershirt -- i.e.., a wife-beater -- and jogging shorts. For practicality, we both wore tennis shoes … and bras, I might add, hers being built-in as I said earlier. I was sorely tempted to skip the bra, but with my *sensitive* assets, um, ah … Let’s say that would not be advisable. The soft, seamless Lycra bra I chose offered support, was cool enough, and matched my panties. We both looked great. And it concealed my nipples, mostly. I wanted to look sharp, not induce heart attacks.

I amaze myself with how comfortable I am in showing skin in public. You might think that as an ex-man I would be conservative in my dress. I know how men react to women in sexy outfits and what they think. Frankly, I don’t care. I dress for me and for comfort. If it’s attractive, great, if it is not, who cares? I’m young — that’s an understatement — and attractive — ditto — so why not dress the part? I didn’t think Suzy’s mom would complain how we were attired. We weren’t dressed any wilder than most of the girls we saw that day.

Once on the toll-way, we made good time heading out of the city. At the state line, it changed over to freeway. In less than two hours after departing from the train station, we were in Milwaukee County. I drove to my dad’s home first, but he was out. We used the bathroom, left him a note, and drove on to my aunt and uncle's home in Glendale. I turned onto their dead end street, passing by my cousin’s -- formerly my uncle’s — service station. I pulled into their drive, let Suzy out and handed out her travel bag.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I don’t think I could stand to see them and not be able to tell them who I am -- I mean who I was. You have a great time with your family, Suzy. I’ll wait until you’re safely in the house then go. Your mom and dad said they would return you to Whateley on their own. You should be safe; remember MSG is keeping an eye on them. You have MSG’s emergency number in your cell?”

“It’s on speed dial, Joanie. I’ll be fine, but are you sure? Mom and Dad would love to see you, and I’m sure Grandma and Grandpa will want to see you.”

“I’m too much of a risk for them. Take care.”

Suzy walked to the door of the 60’s ranch house and rang the bell. Moments later the door opened, and I heard the happy sounds of family reuniting. I prepared to back out and leave when Christine — my cousin and Suzy’s mom — walked out of the house and straight to my driver’s door. Christine’s hair was graying, and she had a modest middle age spread, but she remained an attractive, confident woman in my eyes.

“What is this nonsense about you not coming in, Joanie? My mom and dad are very old; they won’t live forever. They miss their nephew, but I’m sure they would love their grandchild’s savior and good friend.”

“I don’t think I could stand it.”

“Please? For me? Dad calls me often, and he’s said many times he wishes he could meet the brave woman who saved his granddaughter. You would make him and me very happy, Cousin.” She finished and half dragged, half pushed me to the house. She’s a lot stronger than she looks for a woman nearing sixty.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet someone. She is one of Suzy’s teachers and one of her best friends. I met her hours after she rescued my Suzy, and she’s the just the nicest, most unassuming person I’ve ever met. Mom, Dad, this is Joan, or Joanie as she prefers." Christine finished and I stepped around from behind her. It would be more accurate to say she moved around and behind me. I was nervous and ashamed. How could I see them after lying about myself? I saw my aunt and uncle and fought to hold back my tears. I had to look away from them. ~~This is a mistake.~~

My elderly uncle stood up and placed a hand under my downcast face, raising it gently. Looking me in the eyes he spoke, “I have wanted to meet you ever since I heard of what you did for my granddaughter. I owe you more than I can ever hope to repay, Joanie. Bless you.” He grabbed me in a strong bear hug, not easy for him in his mid-eighties and with two artificial hip-joints.

“T-thanks.” My eyes were watering, and I was shaking.

“Joanie, come here please.” It was my aunt, Dad’s older sister. I turned to her and knelt next to her chair, almost collapsing from the shakes. “I don’t know what to say to you, dear, after you, a total stranger, risked your life to save my granddaughter. And it’s not the first time you’ve done something like this. I remember seeing you rescue that girl from a busy highway. I couldn’t love you more than if you were my own child.” She put her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek.

~~Ghod, no!~~ I started sniffling. I didn’t know what to do; I was going into shock.

“Why are you crying? Is something wrong, Joanie?” I couldn’t stop my tears. I could barely think.

“I know what’s wrong, Grandma; she’s overwhelmed, because she hasn’t seen you in over a year and was afraid she never would again.”

“Suzy, No!” Christine yelled. I was too out of it to do anything; all I could do was tremble and cry.

“No, Mom. Grandma and Grandpa deserve to know. Grandma, Grandpa, Joanie is not just my best friend, she’s your niece.”

“N-no!” I tried to get up and leave, but my legs wouldn’t support me. I collapsed in a heap at the side of my aunt’s chair.

“She’s our niece? How?” Grandma asked.

I felt a pair of arms wrap around me. It was Suzy.

“We stopped by Joanie’s dad’s home in Wauwatosa, but he was out.”

Grandma gasped when Suzy gave them the final piece of the puzzle.

“Joanie … Joan used to be his son.”

“John?”

I nodded, and the dam broke; I lost it. I collapsed in Suzy’s arms, sobbing. My aunt had said the one word I most feared, yet most wanted to hear. I cried until it hurt. I cried, but I had no tears to shed; only slowly did the hugs and gentle words from my extended family break through to me. It was some time before I could look at them and not feel overwhelmed.

“Joanie, it just struck me; you look so much like your mother when she first dated your father. I can see her in your face. That’s all the proof I need that you are her child. Why didn’t you see us after your mutation? We would have understood. Man or girl, you are still family -- my pretty and brave niece,” my aunt said as she held my hand.

I’d calmed enough to talk. “I wanted to, but when I learned what my powers were, I feared for your safety. Once I was outed to the press, I thought it was impossible to ever see you again. You saw the news; people kidnapped me because others wanted to discover my secrets. They took me at gunpoint from the middle of a huge crowd. What if someone tried that and I was with you? After those criminal experimenters triggered Suzy’s mutation, my friends at MSG put you under continuous protection as a precaution. They are the mutant supers group in Madison who helped me after my mutation. There is someone out there now keeping you safe. The people who did this to Suzy are dangerous; they’ve done it to others. Excuse me.”

I dialed my private cell, and soon our guardian angel answered.

“This is the Kid, I’m on duty. This had better be important.”

“It’s Joanie, *Bog-fruit boy*; I’m trying to reassure my relatives. I'll be just a moment and thanks, I owe you.” I muted the phone.

I turned towards my *lost* aunt and uncle “One of my friends is monitoring your house as well as my cousins’ homes in the neighborhood. He’s on top of your son’s service station under camouflage.”

I spoke into my phone again. “Kid, Joanie here. Sorry I put you on hold. I’m visiting Suzy’s grandparent’s You keep them safe, or I’ll tell Red you planted micro-cameras in the nurses’ showers and are selling the DVD’s to adult book stores.”

“Joanie, she’ll rip my privates off and shove them down my throat!”

“You know she’s a pussycat, Kid. As to little old me, I’d worry if I was you. These folks are special to me; you do your best, hear?”

“Absoluntemont, mon cheri.”

“That is the worst French I have ever heard.”

“I thought I was speaking Italian.”

“Amateurs! I’ll be leaving later today; Suzy will travel with her parents back to school in a few days, so you’d better keep them all safe or I’ll be looking for a very dull hand hedge lopper.” I hung up and giggled.

“Sorry about the giggle. I guess I’m a girl now.”

“No, you’re a woman, Joanie. And happy to be one from the way you laughed. I’m so glad for you, Hon,” my aunt said.

“The man I was kidding is the Cranberry Kid; he can fly and is combat trained, so you are in good hands. As to his code name, I blame those comic book publishers who copyrighted all the good ones. All silliness aside, do be careful who you talk to about me though. I’ll give you my private cell and e-mail numbers, but don’t tell anyone. I don’t want you put you at anymore risk.”

We soon were talking like nothing had changed, which made me happy. I missed the mundane things of my old life, and this was a precious gift.

“Mom, Dad, you wouldn't believe who called Joanie while we were on the train.”

“Somebody famous from the way you’re grinning, child,” Her dad said.

A similarly silly grin crept onto my face. “I met this woman back in Boston, and she keeps pestering me about coming on this TV talk show.”

“Sounds like a reporter who wants an interview, but if Suzy knows who she is, she must be a national figure. What’s the show?”

“Around Midnight; she sometimes hosts it. You may have heard of her, Jennifer Stevens.”

“Joanie, she’s just about the hottest thing on TV or in films nowadays.” Suzy’s dad sounded impressed.

“She said something similar about me. Scared me senseless.” I laughed, and my cousin-in-law laughed back. Note to my readers: what else would you call your cousin’s husband? And *Bubba* is right out! I’ll admit he’s a good-ole’ boy but he’s a classy one. Plus he has a wicked sense of humor and Christina loves him.

“She’s real nice and has a good sense of humor, Dad. She sure wants Joanie on that show, but she wasn’t pushy about it.”

“I might go on the show in late August, that way it doesn’t interfere with summer classes, and I only have to travel to Syracuse, New York, instead of LA. That way I can take my Whateley friends with me.”

“That’s good you’re making friends at school.”

“They’re more than just her friends, Grandma, Grandpa. Joanie has this band at school, and we’re all in it!”

“Suzy is very good; she’d one of our best singers and plays keyboards. Christine, you have a talented daughter.”

“Could you sing something for us?’ my aunt asked.

Suzy and I talked privately for a moment and agreed on one. “We’d like to take the mood down just a bit,” I said in a cheesy nightclub singer’s voice. Suzy giggled, and I broke up. “Ready?” Suzy played the old upright piano as we sang the Bette Midler hit, The Rose, as a duet. We sang softly at first, gradually building then dropping in volume, trying to remain faithful to Bette’s interpretation. There was complete silence until Suzy spoke.

“What do you think?” Suzy asked.

“You were beautiful, both of you,” my uncle said. My aunt simply cried as did I.

“Thanks Grandpa, Grandma.” Suzy gave them both hugs.

“You don’t know how much that means to me,” I said.

“I was so busy learning church and classical music, I never got into popular music, but I wish I sounded that good.”

“Christine, coming from you that is high praise indeed. I always thought you had a great voice, and you still do.”

“Mom!” Suzy said and hugged her.

Her dad said nothing, but hugged his daughter then kissed me rather passionately.

“My, aren’t we frisky!” I fanned myself like some overheated southern belle. “I do believe I have the vapors.”

“Why do you think I married him, Cousin?”

* * * *

They offered to take me out to eat to celebrate, but I felt it was too risky. They reluctantly agreed. I said my goodbyes, hugging and kissing everyone in thanks for their accepting me.

“I have to go. I wish I could stay, but I have friends in Iowa who are counting on me. They’ve accepted me into their family, and you know my feelings about family.”

Before driving off, I spoke to Suzy and her parents. ”It’s okay, now, to tell my aunt and uncle all about me, but maybe not the Playboy stuff -- at least not until they have had some time to digest my being a girl. My posing naked might be a bit too much, too soon.” I took Suzy aside. “Suzy, be very careful about describing my relationship with Eric, please! You can tell them we met when I saved his sister and we became close friends, but don’t tell them about us being boyfriend and girlfriend. I don’t want him hurt, and he will be if word leaks of our relationship.”

“But you’re doing no more than Tom and I, heck you’re doing less. Weekly phone calls and few kisses here and there is pretty tame.”

“The press will assume it is otherwise and hound us. Someday I will be happy to tell the World about Eric and me, but not now. Please?”

“You’ve got it; you and him are friends and that is all.”

“Thank you, Suzy.”

“No sweat, girlfriends stick together,” she said then hugged me.

“Auntie, Uncle, I have to go, but thanks. This means more to me than I can say.”

“Same here, dear. Give your uncle one more hug. How often does a man my age get hugged by a gorgeous young woman?”

“Well, if Suzy and Christine do it, that makes three of us, four including my aunt.”

As I drove off I thought, ~~I don’t ever remember my eighty-something aunt laughing that hard.~~

* * * *

I stopped at my cousin’s station to top off my fuel. The multi-fuel air/fuel-cells could use most motor fuels. Regular unleaded gasohol would do fine. I shut down my motor and swiped my debit card through the reader — pay-at-the-pump is great. I bent to reach the gas cap and started fueling. I heard squealing tires and brakes then a crunching sound. I turned to see several cars in a classic fender-bender.

“Someone call 911!” I yelled back towards the station and immediately finished fueling. I moved my truck off to the side where they usually parked cars awaiting their turn in the repair bays, but as near to the road as possible. I grabbed my oversized first aid kit from the truck bed — almost an EMT’s kit with what I carried in it -- and ran out to the road to see if I could help.

“Is anyone hurt? I may not look like it, but I have advanced first-aid training. I’m in training for my EMT certification.”

The collision was slow speed, and everyone was belted in, so only the auto body-shops would get much business from this. There was no sign or smell of spilled fuel, so fire was not a danger. I walked from car to car, asking people how they felt. Everyone was alert and could safely wait for the professionals to check them out.

“Miss, I’m in pain.” A high school age boy standing by the ditch called out. His car was at the front of the chain, so he must have been the cause of it all.

~~Strange, he looks uninjured.~~ “Where does it hurt?”

“Deep in my heart, lovely lady. Care to have a drink with me? I’ll show you a great time.” He did look me in the eyes, though he took a longer look down my cleavage. I looked at him again and was both disgusted and pleased by what was the true source of his *pain*. ~~That must be painful, and no way am I offering to help him get relief.~~

“How old are you?”

“Um, ah, twenty-two. I’m twenty-two.”

“Yeah, and I’m Winston Churchill. I’d guess you to be seventeen, nineteen tops. Isn’t the legal age for drinking in Wisconsin twenty-one?”

“But you could drink, Joanie; you’re of age.”

“Glad to see you know me. So you spotted me, your little head overruled your big head, and you slammed on the brakes so hard you caused a chain collision. Then you offer to get me drunk. ‘I’ll show you a great time,’ that was a euphemism for us having sexual relations, I presume? None of these points are much in your favor. Just because I am pretty does not mean I am of easy virtue,” I said and giggled. ~~The sight of my tush sticking out caused an accident? This is right out of a slap-stick comedy. No, this is right out of Lil’ Abner; I’m a real-life Stupifyin’ Jones!~~

Around then the police, paramedics and fire department showed up. I had my ID at the ready. By this point, we were gathering a significant crowd. I called the Kid on my cell.

“Kid, Joanie here. I assume you recorded the accident on your surveillance equipment?”

“You betcha, girl; we have sensors all over the neighborhood. These folks are your family after all. Why do you need to know?”

“Just in case the authorities give me a hard time. Keep a low profile, okay? I think I’ll be fine, but you never know.”

* * * *

“Miss, I’ve been informed you caused this accident,” a police officer said, breaking my concentration on the phone call.

“I have to go now, the police have arrived. We’ll talk later.”

“I am alleged to have done what, Officer?” I turned and saw I was dealing with an officer from the Dark Side, i.e. the Village of Fox Point.

A word of explanation is in order. The road where the accident occurred is a former US Highway long since replaced by a freeway which was upgraded to an Interstate. It remains a busy local road, connecting some of the posh North Shore suburbs to various shopping centers. My cousins and their families, plus my aunt and uncle, all live on the Glendale side; across the road is Fox Point. Back when my uncle drove his service garage’s wrecker, he had the cops called on him if he stopped for more than a few minutes on a Fox Point street. This happened just blocks from the station, which he lived next to and co-owned with his brother. These people knew him and his trucks and still called the cops.

“You were reported as flashing the traffic in an obscene manner, thereby triggering a potentially fatal accident." He said this in a matter-of-fact tone, like my agreement was already assumed.

“At the time of the accident, I was fueling my truck -- with the motor off by the way. I see this station is equipped with video cameras to identify drive offs. Shall we view their tapes and see what really happened? With luck they caught the accident on camera as well.”

“You may talk a smart line, but you are dressed like a prostitute.”

“I was trying to be helpful, and I object to being called that, sir. It’s a hot and humid day; this is appropriate clothing for a young woman in the outdoors and in no way violates any decency codes I know of.” ~~Why hasn’t he asked for any ID yet? That is standard procedure for most departments.~~

“That box of medical supplies will get you in big trouble. Practicing medicine without a license is a serious offense, young lady.”

“Officer, first of all, why haven’t you asked me for any ID? If you had, you would see I am certified in advanced first aid, and I am a deputized member of law enforcement in New Hampshire.”

“Show me your ID, carefully. This had better be no BS.”

~~Does this guy pal around with members of the MCO? What a jerk!~~

He looked at my ID and was mulling over how to react. They clearly conflicted with what he had been told. His dilemma was resolved, when the station owner walked up. The owner, my cousin, looked at me and smiled.

“I think I may be of assistance, Jimmy. I was ringing up a customer in the office and had a clear view out the plate-glass window. This woman did nothing to contribute to the accident. Whoever reported this got things wrong or is trying to make the police look foolish. You know me from Rotary and the recreation department boy’s baseball leagues; would I lie to you, Jimmy?”

He was in a mechanics’ jumpsuit -- greasy and showing his 50-something years -- but my cousin never had looked so handsome to me. The officer returned my ID and looked sheepish.

“I’m dreadfully sorry, Ma’am … Ms. Brown. I was led to believe things were different than they were, and well, I acted badly. You have my sincere apologies.”

“That’s quite alright.” ~~Maybe he just puts on this tough guy act for teens in general?~~

My cousin started to laugh.

“What’s so funny, Dave?”

“Do you know who you were on the edge of arresting?”

“Her ID said Joan Brown from New Hampshire, but I don’t see …”

“This is the woman who saved my niece, Jimmy. She’s a world famous singer. Joanie, I’m very pleased to meet my niece’s best friend.”

He shook my hand. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged, hard. I gave him a quick kiss. On his cheek -- he is my cousin and this is not Arkansas. A little grease wasn’t going to harm me. ~~I know you work out regularly along with your wife, but damn, you’re fit, cousin.~~ I gave the officer my contact info, if they needed a witness. I was right; the station cameras were working and had caught most of the accident, so I’d likely not have to testify. The officer left, and it was just me and Dave standing near his gas pumps. Most of the accident was cleared up by now, except for a couple of disabled cars. From the looks of discussions between the drivers, and one of my cousin’s employees, his station might get some extra business. A custom van pulled into the station and my cousin’s husband got out to fuel it.

“I thought you’d left for Iowa, Joanie? Did you change your mind about coming to dinner with us?”

“I was gassing up, and there was this accident on the old highway. Some young man decided watching my rear was more important that watching traffic; I know I’m cute, still … I’m in training as an EMT and Police officer so I ran down to help. You know me -- little Miss Trouble-magnet.”

He laughed in his charming, southern good-old-boy voice. “Yes, you do have a habit of finding trouble and jumping in. I see you met my brother-in-law.”

“Uncle Dave!” Suzy shouted and ran up to him. “You met Joanie? She’s just the nicest girl I’ve ever known. Joanie, this is my Uncle Dave, but then you’ve known him for … Oops!”

“Oops?” Dave asked. At this point the doors to the van opened, and I saw Christine and my aunt and uncle.

“I had better go, or I’ll never get to Iowa. Suzy, if you and the rest would explain what *oops* means -- discreetly -- I would be much obliged.” I whispered to her, “I trust your uncle; I have for years.” I stood up, smiled at them and walked off. “Goodbye, everybody!”

I stowed my first aid kit back in the truck, got in and drove off. The only sounds were the faint noise of the electrics, the tires on the pavement and Suzy’s girlish squeals. ~~I think she just told Dave who I used to be.~~ I drove the short distance to the freeway on-ramp and was on my way.

* * * *

I made great time, but it is a good six hours minimum to Des Moines from Milwaukee. I stopped two hours out, in Dodgeville, WI, to stretch my legs and get something to eat. I ate in this Wisconsin-based fast food place; its name begins with a letter *C*. Their prices are a little higher than the big national chains, but they cook your order after you place it, not before, and their food is great. Plus they have custard and all kinds of soda fountain treats. Can you say fattening? I had a North Atlantic Cod Filet sandwich, a coffee and a large banana shake.

I got a few looks from the staff and patrons, but they treated me like any other customer until ... ~~Odd how the volume on the sound system has gone up since I ordered.~~

“The top two songs this week were recorded live at the same concert a few weeks ago in Hawaii. The artist has had a song at number one and at least one other song in the top ten almost continuously since her debut last Halloween. Now for the number two song in the nation, a recording even the King couldn’t improve on.”

"Burning Love" had done well for Elvis, and it was doing very well by me. It and "Unchained Melody" were a juggernaut on the charts. It was almost embarrassing how well they were doing. I quickly finished my coffee and sandwich. I tossed my trash and took my shake with me to the bathroom where I washed my hands; I’d gone bathroom while my sandwich was being cooked. I was heading out of the bathroom as "Burning Love" ended. They broke for a commercial immediately after. ~~Thank you, Ghod.~~

I was about to leave when several kids ran up to me and asked if I was Joanie. “Yeah, I’m afraid so; disappointed?” Then I giggled like the seventeen year-old I am. I ended up signing autographs for everyone in the place. I rather enjoyed it. I exited the building to the sound of "Unchained Melody" and feeling all was right with the world.

* * * *

Four hours later, I pulled into Terrace Hill. This time, after being checked in by the guards, I drove my truck right up to the family parking area. I was surprised no one ran out to greet me. I grabbed my bag of presents for the family and walked in the mansion. I was greeted by a new tour guide, and she was definitely frazzled.

“Miss, you are late for the tour; please keep up or wait for the next one.” I immediately disliked this gal.

“I’m not with the tour. I’m here to…”

“You need to get a ticket; the fees help maintain this grand old house. The ticket booth is down the hall.”

“I’m a visitor here to see the Johnsons. Excuse me.” I turned and walked to the main staircase.

“Miss, you can’t wander around unsupervised. The top floor is private and off-limits to the public.”

I ignored her. I can be stubborn.

“Ma’am, I’m calling security!”

“Go for it; this should be interesting.” I stopped and sat on an intermediate landing. I heard people coming running from upstairs. I turned to look; the officer saw me and broke out laughing.

“Joanie, dear, please be nice to the tour guides. Many are college students working part-time, and they are not familiar with your comings and goings.” He escorted me down to the now confused student worker.

“Judy, Ms. Brown is a regular guest here. I’m sorry if you weren’t informed.”

She apologized then walked off muttering something like, “First day on the job, and I’m toast.”

I ran after her and gently stopped her. “I was in a mood and gave you a hard time. You were protecting the Johnsons by your actions, Judy. Just because I am famous doesn’t mean I necessarily had permission to go where I was going. You were protecting my friends; I am extremely fond of them, so I am not upset in the least. No bad feelings?” I offered her a hug; we are women after all. “I’ll see if I can get you a raise or a bonus for being alert to a possible intruder.” I whispered in her ear. She looked much happier.

I waited in a fourth floor parlor for the family. The officers on duty wouldn’t say where the family was but that I was welcome to wait. I nodded off on a huge overstuffed couch and was woken by someone tickling me.

“I was tired and I … Babs?” She was huge but looked healthy. That bit about pregnant women glowing was true for her. “I didn’t hear you come up.”

“We used the elevator; the stairs are too much for me.”

“I wish I had come to visit you in the hospital; I feel guilty I didn’t.”

“Eric told you not to come, and I told Eric to tell you that. You did as I wished -- no big deal.”

“But you were in pain.”

“Almost none, dear, I had some bruising from the seatbelts, and that’s almost faded away. They kept me overnight to make sure about the twins who are also doing fine. Now give your big sister a hug, will you, and quickly. I want to use the bathroom.”

I gave her a hug and helped her to the nearest bathroom. She sent me on my way.

“I’m not an invalid. You want to stare at a woman’s private parts? Stand in front of a mirror and strip. Now go!” she said and laughed.

Bob came up next and gave me a bear hug, lifting me off my feet. “Thanks for being a friend to my wife. Your calls do more good than you know. She means everything to me, Joanie, so thanks.” He kissed me sweetly, like I was Babs’s younger and favorite sister. ~~Duh, Joanie, Babs just called you her sister, and he does what she says after all.~~ Then he gave me a second kiss, a knock-my-socks-off kiss. I was dizzy, could barely think a coherent thought, and was pleasantly aroused afterwards -- oh my yes! Part of me, the naughty girl lurking deep inside, wanted more — much, much more. “That’s for the Senator and playing matchmaker. He hasn’t been this happy since the day Eric was born.”

“You’re welcome?” I slurred, confused. A pair of skinny arms wrapped around me. I opened my eyes and saw my increasingly lovely young friend.

“Mom looks like that, too, after Dad kisses her. Thanks for coming, Joanie, I missed you,” Mel said and she kissed me on the cheek. Her tone projected pure love for her older sister/best friend.

She backed off, and another pair of arms encircled me from behind. They were higher off the ground and definitely more muscular. So was the body they were attached to. “Don’t I get a hug?”

I was tempted to spin hard on my heels and ravish the boy, but I knew I had to be mature about this. I giggled, turned, blushed and kissed him like a girl at her first dance afraid that boys have cooties. So much for mature.

“Eric!” I squealed, almost squeaked. “Ghods! I sound like a love-struck teenager.”

“Joanie, dear, you are one.”

“Thanks, Babs, for your *kind* words of support. Where were you all earlier? Usually someone is here to greet me; I feel so rejected.”

“Having a big, long prenatal checkup, I’m in my third trimester. After the auto accident, my doctor wants to see me more often as a precaution.”

“Why did everyone go?”

“Mom wanted us to know what to expect in these last months and when she gives birth. Joanie, we got to see the babies. They used one of those sono … sonogram machines. John and Joan look so cute. I saw their tiny fingers and toes, and where he has his boy thing and she doesn’t. It was real tiny,” Mel said and giggled.

“My brother isn’t even born yet, be fair.”

“I agree, Eric. Your brother John will be a proper man in his time. No fair picking on him when he can’t defend himself. Once he’s old enough, go for the throat, Mel, no mercy.”

“Joanie?”

“Sorry, Eric, but I have to side with my fellow girl here. It’s tradition. If I was a guy I’d side with you, but then I’d be dating Mel, so count your blessings.”

“Okay, but I feel like the girls are picking on the boys.”

I kissed him on the cheek. “How do you feel now?”

“Much better.”

* * * *

“I’m yours for the next two weeks then I have to fly to Wales. So what do *we* want to do?” We were sitting together on that big couch, Babs, me and Bob in that order. Eric and Mel sat on the carpet facing us.

“Mel and I are in school through the end of the week.”

“Okay, say for this week I spend the days with your mom and dad, and in the evenings maybe help you study for your exams? Starting this weekend, through to the weekend after, how about I take you and Mel on vacation? I can show you my favorite places in Wisconsin, or we can go wherever you two like — maybe a theme park like Great America or one of the Wisconsin Dells attractions. There’s a real stern-wheel steamboat that does day cruises out of Lacrosse, the Amy Belle Swain, or I could take you to see where I grew up. We could visit my dad and sister? That’s just a few ideas; I’m open to suggestions.”

“That sounds good. Can we visit your friends in Madison?” Mel asked.

“Red, Gin and Carrie of MSG? Sure. Maybe we can see Dr. Sara. She was my doctor when I mutated and helped me a lot. She’s very funny too.”

“Grandma Sara? We met her, and she’s silly,” Mel replied.

“You met … Grandma Sara?!”

“Grandpa brought her to visit. She’s a pretty woman like you, Joanie. I see why Grandpa loves her,” Eric added.

“Dad wanted my blessing to marry Sara. He felt guilty I hardly remember my mom. Dad feels that he deprived me of having a chance to love a new mother as I grew up. I told him it was about time he had a girlfriend and to stop acting like a fool and marry her.”

“I’m happy you approve; I would have felt bad about it, if you didn’t.”

“Dad and Mom -- I like the sound of that word, Mom -- told me how you played match maker.”

“I thought they had a lot in common and might hit it off.”

“Hit it off? Joanie, though they tried to restrain themselves, during the visit they were all over each other like teenagers in heat. I thought Bob and I were wild in our day; I don’t know how Dad can survive being alone with her,” Babs said and grinned.

“Mom and Dad said it was okay for them to be so intimate with each other, because they are going to be married. I’m glad for Grandpa, he’s been on his own too long,” Eric added.

Eric had not mentioned something important about Sara, neither had Babs or Mel. I had to ask. “Bob,” I whispered “did they tell you about, ah, her being, um …”

“... that this is a shotgun wedding? Sure!” I was in shock, then Bob started laughing.

“You knew?”

“Joanie, we saw how Mom changed with her pregnancy. Grandma Sara is definitely pregnant -- even Eric noticed,” Mel explained.

“How do you feel about her having a baby?”

“I always wanted a sister, and now I have two,” Babs said and hugged me.

“Though she’ll technically be our aunt, to me she’ll be my little sister. I’ll get to teach her about being a girl and stuff.”

“I think it’s good, too. Having an aunt younger than me will be strange but fun,” Eric added.

“Whoa, slow down, a sister? I knew of the marriage proposal and the pregnancy, but a girl?” ~~ Plus wouldn’t she be more like a younger cousin? … Then I think of Babs as my sister and I want to marry her son. Ghods, we’re both loonies. ~~

“It’s the latest development in early tests for a baby’s sex. Sara and Joe called us late last night to let us know. She tried to call you, but your cell was off.”

“I was on the night train from Boston with Suzy and didn’t want to disturb anyone. That was my piece of news for you; well, one of the pieces anyway. I took Suzy Kenner to her grandparents’ house in Wisconsin. Her parents were waiting to meet her there. She and her mom decided I was being an idiot, and well, I have an aunt and uncle again, and maybe another cousin besides Christine, one of her uncles.”

“It went well. I can tell from your expression.”

I nodded in agreement, I could barely think let alone talk. My emotions were building as I fought to stay in control. “There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation in accepting me as their former nephew. They love me as much as before, maybe more so because I saved Suzy. I …” I started crying.

“You missed them that much?” Babs asked softly.

“I …”

I was not coherent for some time, but eventually I settled down.

* * * *

“Are you seeing a doctor, Joanie? Getting any counseling, hon? This last year had to be stressful, what with your mutation and all the emotional highs and lows.”

“I was seeing Dr. Bellows at school, for a while …”

I was interrupted by Bob's laughing. He had a deep infectious laugh -- the male counterpoint to my frequent giggles.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Joanie, but Dr. Bellows? Does he have an ornate glass bottle in his office?”

“A matter of fact he does, and he knows all the jokes about his *twin* on I Dream of Jeannie.”

“You should get help, Joanie; I think all the traumatic things that happened since last July are overwhelming you,” he said.

“I would, but when can I find the time?”

“Make time. It’s your wellbeing at stake here, sweetie.”

“I’ll consider it, and if you call me sweetie one more time, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Bob challenged.

“This,” I launched myself at Bob, attacking him mercilessly. I pushed him onto his back and … “I knew it, you’re just like me! Now that I know your weakness, you are at my mercy, mwah, ha, ha, ha!”” I cackled in triumph as I had my evil way with him.

“N-n-n-n-n-no, st-st-st-st-o-o-o-o-op!” he sputtered between gasps for breath. ~~Damn but the man is ticklish and in so many places.~~

“Joanie, that’s not nice to exploit my husband’s weakness like that. The last time I *assaulted* him so aggressively, he got me pregnant.”

I was on top of him, straddling his body... I suddenly *knew* how the twins were conceived. ~~Oh my Ghod, what am I doing!~~ I backed away immediately. “Whoa, I’d better stop. I’m so sorry, Bob, I didn’t …” I was terribly embarrassed and excited at the same time. “Um, Eric? Come here, please,” and a part of me meant it. Thankfully, I recovered my sanity, if not my dignity, in spite of that siren’s voice.

“Joanie, leave my son alone, until he’s eighteen, at least. And he is just like his dad by the way.”

“Is he?” Mel asked and winked at me. Eric tried to run, but I got him around the waist, while Mel went straight for his armpits. I worked on the sides of his ribs. We relented, eventually.

“Brother, I never knew you could turn that shade of red.”

“I’ll get you for this!”

“No you won’t, Eric.”

“Why?”

“’Cause it’s not nice to threaten your sister, and because you will be too busy … with me.”

“Oh!”

“Now get those clothes off, and you’d better be up for it.”

* * * *

Now if I was a tease, I’d break my d/j/w at this point, leaving you thinking Eric and I were about to … well, you are wrong ... regrettably. We played Horse. It’s a game of shooting baskets to spell out horse or whatever. The least misses wins. John — the old me -- was a terrible ball player, but I, Joanie, remembered from previous visits Eric liked the sport. I have to do what he likes some of the time to be fair. We hurried of to our respective rooms to change.

We’d agreed to meet out by the basketball hoop. I spotted him first. “Nice outfit, Eric.”

“I wore it ‘specially for you.” This caused me to giggle as it was Eric’s school Phys Ed uniform — very generic and strangely sexy in its utilitarian plainness. That he was wearing it had a lot to do with why I liked the look.

“Like mine?” I'd worn my running outfit.

“Do you have to ask?”

“Yes I do, Eric. I’m getting better at this girl stuff, and all the movies and TV imply this fishing for complements is important.” I pouted then giggled again. My emotions were all over the map today.

“It looks terrible on you. I know, lets play shirts and skins. You can be skins.”

“Don’t you wish, Eric, and thank you, I feel better now. Shoot the ball, pervert.”

I played badly at first. To be honest I sucked at it, but then John was never much of an athlete. Eric was creaming me, and part of me didn’t like it. I kept at it and surprised myself with how rapidly I improved.

“I thought you said you were bad at sports, Joanie?”

“John was bad; I guess Joanie is better.”

“Okay then, try some one-on-one?”

“You’re on, Eric!”

This was much harder as my dribbling was terrible. Eric was beating me easily, again, but I was having fun. My play soon improved, and he was no longer dominating me. After a while he forgot himself and was blocking me pretty roughly, but legally -- no elbows. I gave as good as I got. We were bumping into each other, getting sweaty, grimy and having the time of our lives. I felt alive, strong and oh so accepted. Strangely, despite the close, almost intimate contact, I was not aroused -- or not much, anyway. I was having too much fun competing with Eric to be thinking of sex with him. We were like two school pals testing our maturing bodies against each other in preparation for competing for mates at a later age. I was simply one of the guys, just built kind of funny.

* * * *

It was getting late into the afternoon when Mel came out to find us. “It’s nearly time to eat. Euh! You two need a shower; you stink.”

“Want to shower with me, Eric?” We laughed, ran into Terrace Hill, and off to our respective -- and separate -- showers.

I was luxuriating in the warm spray and started to think aloud, “That went well; I think we can pull this off. Lots of wholesome physical activity together with restrained but affectionate contact, but nothing else happened. This means we can have lots of social intercourse and get to know each other as good friends before we become lovers. I think I have this whole girlfriend/boyfriend thing sussed … then why did I think intercourse and not interaction?” I asked myself.

I dressed nice for the Saturday dinner, a mid-thigh summer dress, pumps and some tasteful jewelry -- some of my Hawaiian acquisitions. I entered the family dining room and found Bob in a polo shit, khakis and tennis shoes, Babs in a simple maternity gown and bunny slippers, Mel in Capri-styled jeans, a sleeveless top and cross trainers, and Eric in jeans, a printed U of Iowa t-shirt, gym socks and clean basketball shoes.

“Joanie, you look lovely, but you didn’t have to dress up; we’re having tacos tonight. Takeout, actually, as Bob felt we all needed a day off from any household chores. It’s from a local Mexican restaurant, so it’s really good,” Babs said and smiled.

I felt foolish, until I saw how Mel was studying me, like she was memorizing this look for future reference. Eric’s warm smiles every time he looked my way told me I’d worn the perfect outfit.

* * * *

We all helped Babs with clean-up after diner; Eric wanted to spend more time with me, alone. Mel objected, as I was her friend first. I went all Solomon on them.

“You both claim I should spend the next few hours with each of you exclusively. The problem is there is only one of me. I guess I’ll have to cut myself in two, so I can do both.”

“Works for me.”

“Me too.” They replied in turn.

“That’s not what I expected. I thought the more worthy one would back off, like with Solomon, the two women and the baby … Oh yeah, wrong example, huh kiddos?”

“That stunk, Joanie.”

“What my sister said; sorry, hon.”

“I maybe 49 years old, but I’m not omnic … omnice … prefect, perfect, that’s it! Perfect. I have my blonde moments, you know.” I snickered and they both laughed.

“You were having us on, Joanie?”

“What do *you* think, Mel? I tell you what, here’s my deal. Eric gets a scorching hot kiss with lots of tongue and sexy fondling, and then Mel gets my undivided attention until bedtime. Sounds fair?”

Eric’s shit-eating grin told me I’d hit pay dirt. “Absolutely!”

“Seems fair to me, Joanie,” Mel replied.

“Okay, then. Mel, kiss your brother, and then we can go off and have some fun.”

“What!?” Mel screeched.

“Why you dirty little tease!” Eric grumbled. They looked at each other, and I bolted. I ran for my guest room, but I forgot to lock the connecting door to the next room … Babs and Bob got some really good photos of me, as I was being tortured by Mel and Eric -- home video actually.

You must remember I am an exemplar *across the board*; that includes the responsiveness of my skin. John was quite ticklish. My mom was not, but my female self, despite many outward similarities to Mom, is ticklish -- very, very ticklish. And many of the same pain and pleasure receptors that feed into my ticklishness are part and parcel of my body’s erogenous zones. The kids thought I was trying to break free, which I was. I was also on the verge of having a whopping great orgasm, and I did not want the minors to realize why I was reacting as I was. Babs and Bob realized what was happening and saved me before I went over the edge, but just barely.

“That’s enough kids, let Joanie breathe.” I was panting irregularly, flushed and my mind was saturated with endorphins. I was high as a kite, and it was legal. “Out, everyone, so I can help Joanie calm down,” Babs insisted. They left, and she closed both doors. “Are you okay, Hon? Bob tickled me like that a few times when we wanted to spice up our marriage; you know silk scarves, tying one to the bed and the use of feathers or fur to tantalize?”

“Babs I feel like a … I feel dirty somehow.”

“How were they to know? Do you need to, you know? The pulse setting on the shower is most … pleasing.”

“Babs, you dirty little … can you keep them busy for say half an hour and make sure whatever you’re doing is loud. Bless you.”

I gave her a sweet sister—to-sister kiss on the lips, and that nearly got me going again.

“Make that an hour.”

Like I said, I have very responsive skin.

* * * *

Forty-five minutes later I was clean, in fresh clothes and feeling absolutely fantastic. Babs was right, that shower head was bliss; I almost forgot I was here to visit. ~~I need to remember what brand and model this shower head is … I’m in LOVE.~~ So, I admit it, I would have used the whole hour, but I ran out of hot water.

I found them in the media room watching the DVD Jay had sent of the Waikiki concert.

Eric turned to me and spoke carefully, like he had given his words a great deal of thought. “Joanie, I’m sorry we treated you like that. We tickled you far longer than was funny or enjoyable for you. Mom said you were in distress at the end. We are very sorry; we took the tickling too far. We only meant to have fun, not to hurt you, right Mel?”

“Like Eric said.” Mel walked over to me and gave me a big hug.

“I forgive you; you meant no harm … and it wasn’t all that unpleasant, far from it. Just don’t do it again for a while, okay?” I rolled my eyes and grinned. The two of them looked extremely embarrassed. I filed this away for future reference, for after Eric and I are legal ... Whoopee!

* * * *

The rest of the evening we spent catching up on each other’s lives and just shooting the breeze. I was tempted to give Dr. Sara a call and berate her for not telling me she was carrying a girl but decided to wait. It was heavenly spending a quiet evening with close family. Yes, I said family. I went to bed happy, and I slept the best I had in ages. My dreams were memorable and extremely private, so there!

* * * *

Richard Thorn, Erin Flynn and Alexis Eden are the creations of Julie_O

Around Midnight ,Wayne Zachery and Jennifer Stevens are the creations of Bob Arnold

I am the creation of my parents, or so THEY claimed

To be continued
Would *I* lie to you?