The Bridge Ch 27 Christmas & Cramps

The Bridge - Chapter Twenty-Seven - Christmas and Cramps

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work is copy written by the author. All characters involved in sexual activity are eighteen years of age or older at the time of portrayal.

This work will, at times, contain instances of lesbian sex, pregnancy, interracial sex, chastity, group sex, Dominance and submission, tattoos and piercings, slavery, intrigue, action, romance and affection. There are also threats of violence and a fair amount of heroism and family love and fun.

I have put this into the Lesbian Sex category because it is where I seem to be getting the most hits. Also, that's where the sex is in this one. Your positive ratings and comments, positive or negative, are welcome and appreciated. If you have read this story from the beginning, I would like to thank you. I hope someone is enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.

Chapter 27 - Christmas & Cramps

Saturday. Christmas Day. It would be the most hectic of our vacation days, and the one we took most seriously. I was up at five-thirty with the twins and Bertha was just fetching Ellie, to change her and bring her downstairs to feed her while she and Aggie get breakfast ready. Dr. Chu called to let us know that Toothy had arranged for room service in his suite, with the McKellys and the Chus, and that they would meet us at the hospital. He let me know he spoke to his friend, who is the Director of Social Services at CHOP, and they were ready for us. The target time was ten, and we would stay until two.

We had a ball dressing the kids up as elves. They paraded around the living room and kitchen like they were a big deal. Well, they are to me.

Three cars filled with adults and children left my house and arrived at CHOP at Nine-fifteen. We flooded in and checked in with administration, who was giving us six non-nursing volunteers, to guide us around and pave the way. At quarter to ten, Santa Claus arrived in one of two buses. And he was a big one. Guess who? His elves followed him around as he moved from patient to patient, room to room, floor to floor. Then he plopped down on a big, high-backed chair in the lobby and saw the ambulatory patients.

Peggy and Les followed him and helped the kids in the background, mostly collecting thank yous from grateful parents of CHOP kids. Harriet and Hilly, dressed to the hilt as Mrs. Claus and the Head Elf, were a big help, and went around announcing in the wards that Santa was coming. The kids from Second Street went around to the wards we couldn't get to, making sure that everyone had gifts, even if they didn't get to see Santa.

By the time two o'clock came around, it seemed to me that we were getting in the way more than helping. Kids have to be fed and medication has to be administered. We did our best to tend to the spirit. It would be up to the miracle makers at CHOP to tend to the body.

When our parade got back to the townhouse, everyone attacked the presents. The kids ran up to the family room, where there were gifts for everyone, and the adults adjourned to the tables in the living room, where the babies were rolling around in their great big portable play pen, off the kitchen. Each was immediately picked up by one of the girls and either tended to or passed around.

The servers worked around us, making sure they set up enough places for all the kids who would be served first. The place smelled very different from last night. Today is Italian. Bertha's green and red dinner in honor of the holiday. Spinach and mushroom lasagna with red gravy, Zucchini Ratatouille casserole, in red gravy, Eggplant Rollatinis, and good old Zucchini Spaghetti and Mushroom Meatballs. Everyone was salivating and a couple even tried to get a taste, but the only one to get a taste was Toothy. We had a large Ceaser Salad and Bertha kept the flat top going, if anyone wanted Shitake Mushroom Steaks on the grill. All the bread came from the bakery around the corner and it was incredible. Toothy remarked about how much he liked it and I made a note to myself to call and have an order or pastries and breads made up for Toothy and Cass to take home with them.

The girls all pitched in to serve the kids dinner, except us with the tiny ones. Duane had his son; I had his daughter, and Peggy had Ellie. We all put in a concerted effort, and by the time the kids were done eating, the babies were upstairs, in bed, Duanee with a bottle in his mouth. Aggie was leaving for the night with a friend, and I'm told it's a male friend. I don't ask, she's a big girl. When they decide they want to tell me about it, I'm here.

Becca took the train down from West Chester earlier and was now up minding the makeshift nursery that was my suite on the fourth floor. When I got downstairs, the Lawrences were just coming in the door for dinner. I wrapped myself around them and snatched away my little Monique. She had just finished eating and was half in the bag. So, Linnie and I trekked up all four flights and found her a place amongst Becca's charges.

Harry and Hilly followed us up. They wanted to see the babies and stayed for a good long time with Becca. I think they'd had their fill of 'The Littles' for now. Nothing less than gravity got me back downstairs. The kids were flowing up the stairs to the family room, where "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" was playing, or in the big bedroom where they were all sleeping or playing on their tablets or, like my Georgie, just crashed out. It was a lot of day for one so little. Once they were situated, the adults flowed down from the family room.

As if she were the host, supposedly my job; Bertha guided everyone coming down from the family room, into the living room, to the long table. She would join us at the table and orchestrate dinner from there. The servers would do the work. It's important to me that she be sitting with us at dinner as often as possible. She is family, and I never want her to think for a minute that she is not a vital cog in the ever-spinning wheel that is my life.

For the adults, dinner was served family style, with serving dishes being passed around the table from diner to diner. The wine and beer were flowing like water. While this was going on it was very quiet. Until Toothy broke the silence.

"This lasagna is beyond the best I've ever tasted. We have some real fine cooks down at the house, but they don't cook up nothin' like this. And those mushrooms. Wow!"

"Kennett Square mushrooms. Best in the world. Right in our backyard." Bertha said.

"Holly," I asked. "Is that your department?"

"Yes, ma'am. We're sending mushrooms to Pittsburgh?"

"Of course. Once Cass starts cooking up some of Kennett's finest, we'll be shipping her 'shrooms every week." Everyone laughed. I was serious.

As we ate, everyone asked Bertha about the various dishes, which she told a history of, or her tips for the cooking of. I'm so used to her just being her, I sometimes forget how fascinating she can be, or how she can captivate a room. Mac got it. He was beaming. The servers had their eyes on her the whole time. If she looked their way, they were on top of her. Dinner went exceptionally well. And given the diversity of our guests, I give us high marks. And Bertha said to everyone as we stood and applauded another spectacular meal, "I'll stand on my feet and cook for twelve hours as long as I don't have to do no dishes." She didn't. Not during vacation, not once.

Dr. Chu said that he thought the kids were surprisingly quiet, but I told him not to be concerned. Giving Day always takes a lot out of the kids, and they are either sitting back watching the movie or asleep. He said he was just going to go up and check on his little Lily. Not five minutes later, he came down only to report that Lily, Georgia and Kimmie were all stuffed into a single sleeping bag and holding onto each other, fast asleep. And Georgie and Rory were zonked out next to each other. We got a lot of Ahhhh's and a few giggles. Then the stream of curious adults went up and down the stairs. I sat back and did my best to finish a bottle of red wine Lizzie and I had started.

Then, before you could say 'Jiminy Cricket,' everyone was gone; the kids to bed and the adults strolling down Walnut Street for ostensibly for the gals to prepare for tonight.

Everyone but Davante and his girl. Harley wasn't just any girl. She was an FBI agent who met Davante when they were working on the Peace Dunbar case together. I must have amazing self-control, because when she told us that, my jaw didn't drop. But I looked at Duane, and he did everything in his power not to look back. Herman cleared his throat when he heard it, and said his goodbyes, and walked Peggy right out of there and down to South Philly so she could prepare for tonight. It seemed there was a lot of foot shuffling. Duane was visibly angry at his brother for bringing a hornet into the bee's nest. But, once Lizzie left to get, and Holly went up to clean up and get dressed for tonight, Duane let his brother know that they have to talk, and they have to do it now. So, they excused themselves and Harley Tanner and I were alone... together.

She was really tall. Six feet and one-half inch she said. Make's Holly look like a shrimp. Very pretty, with dark curly hair she kept bunched up in the back. Mocha colored skin that had not one blemish. Everything about her was smart. She dressed smart, acted like smart people should, and seemed to live her life the way smart people do. I liked her, but a lot about her scared me. First of all, she's a fuckin' FBI special agent. Don't need one of those up my ass, I've got one halfway up my ass already in my man's brother. And second, she asks a lot of questions. A lot. We talked about her work and mine, mostly about my new companies. But I kept trying to steer the conversation to stories about the family, of which she had none but one sister.

"So, they call you the Queen Bee. I can certainly see why."

"Trust me, it's not every day I feel like a queen. Sometimes I feel like the joker, but mostly I feel like a handmaiden."

"I'm sorry, Miss Todd, but your accomplishments speak for themselves. Vante doesn't have enough to say about you. And as proud of those twins as he is, you would think they were his. Raising five kids, running God knows how many companies and holding onto a man. That's a pretty accomplished life, I'd say."

"Speaking of holding onto a man, what's with you and Davante?"

"Yeah, right. It looks like I'm going to have to be satisfied to be his arm candy. I'd really like to..."

"Oh, I know what you'd like to do."

"We're already doing a bit of that, although I'd like to be doing a lot more. You don't know what it's like.."

"Harley, look who I sleep with, and you tell me I don't know. Whatever you are going through I pity you, because I've been through it with almost the same man. If you're really interested don't hold back. Davante Royce can get a piece of ass eight days a week, and twice on Sunday. So, you better bring a lot more to the table, and you better bring it like no other woman can. If you want him, go out and fight for him."

"Do you think?"

"Watch me."

We slipped our shoes off, and snuck upstairs to see all the sleeping children. When we got all the way to the top, in my suite, Becca was asleep with the twins and Harley could not get over them. She whispered to me that Duanee looked just like Davante. It took all my super powers to keep her hands off her. And, yes, she passed the sniff test. First thing, she bent down to smell the babies' heads. And when the Diva rolled over, Harley put her hands to her heart and went, "Ahhhh."

The kitchen was empty as Bertha and Mac had taken Ellie to bed. But she left the coffee urn on with a note to turn it off and unplug it before closing down the kitchen. The servers were also gone. So, it was just me and Harley, in the kitchen with the coffee. I had big plans for tonight, so I kept our conversation light and short.

"You're so lucky to have such beautiful children and have built an amazing community around them. I'd love to have one someday. Vante told me what you were all doing today. It's beyond admirable. I would love to be a part of a family like that, with a man like Vante on my arm."

Well, Harley, to be honest with you, the family is just getting to know Davante, but we have embraced him, and he has done the same with us. Let me show you something." And I walked her into the living room and showed her a framed photo on the wall of me standing in the middle, with Duane holding his son, and Davante holding his niece, and Holly kneeling with Celeste, Georgie and Peach.

"It's my dream, Hannah. If I had this, I wouldn't need a dime."

Ding, ding, ding. Someone just hit Hannah where she lives. I wanted to hit her with my stamp of approval right then, but I just had to inquire further.

"And you want it with Davante?"

"If only."

"Oh?"

"I have not yet met the woman that wouldn't drop to her knees for him for a single night, let alone a lifetime. You tell me how to make this man want me."

"Well, Special Agent Tanner, after further investigation, I see you must have taken the first step."

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"First of all, you're here. The first and only woman Davante has introduced to the family. Second of all, you have to know he's talking to his twin brother about you, right now. And third, I believe a sign will come. Watch for it. When he asks me to speak alone, I think it will be time to prepare for at least some good news."

"Do you think?"

"Let's just say I'm hoping. I think I just joined team Tanner."

She pounced on me. Nearly scared the life out of me. This big, big woman coming at me at breakneck speed. She hugged me and gave me a big kiss on the cheek. Then I started to fill her head with stories of all my exploits pinning down Duane. But that was too easy. He was caught before I even started trying. But the most important thing is, I still got him.

The whole house was quiet, except for our quiet conversation and occasional giggling. It's nice that if we're going to have an FBI agent here that she at least has a sense of humor. When the boys walked back through the door, they looked over at us chatting and giggling, and Davante raised his hand up, and Duane slapped it. I looked over at Harley and she looked back at me. We both smiled and I gave her a wink.

"Where are you kids off to tonight?" I asked.

"I thought I would try to convince Harley to camp out at her place for the night."

I lifted my arm up and said, "Call the Bellevue."

"Hyatt at the Bellevue."

"Concierge, please."

"Yes, ma'am. This is Concierge, Oren speaking. How may I help you?"

"Oren, this is Hannah Todd. Can you tell me how many rooms on my floor are available for tonight. Uh huh. What's the best one? Okay. A suite? Good. 1406. For Special Agent Davante Royce. Yes, that's right, FBI. They'll be over there soon. I'll let him know."

I looked over at Davante and said, "Go to the Bellevue, tell them who you are, and you two can have a great night on Broad Street. Very romantic." And I winked at Harley, and she smiled back at me broadly. Here I go again. Add another title - Hannah Todd, Match Maker.

It didn't take long after that when the couple left. I got that feeling that something was going to come of this, but I just had this itching that kept my eyes open for any sign Harley Tanner could be a threat. I could love her today, but I may have to kill her tomorrow. This is what my life has become. Time for a major session with Dr. Como.

When everyone was gone, we shut down the lights, unplugged the coffee urn, and I walked to the foot of the staircase and just looked up. "I can't do it. I can't walk those steps one more time." So, what does my man do. He picks me up and carries me up four flights of steps. When we got to our suite, Becca was fast asleep, as were the twins. We gave them each a little sniff and a feel and they were clean and dry.

As I dressed for my big night, I asked Duane about Davante and Harley, and he said that he really likes her. That she has qualities unmatched by any other woman he has seen or dated. He told me that the position of Assistant Director of the Philly office, on Arch Street, opened up and Davante applied for it and got it. He said he wanted to tell Harley and that he would like her to be his girl.

"What do you think, Han? Think he's got a chance?"

"No more than you have of getting into my pants."

"So, you're saying it's a go?"

"That's my read."

"Good, and goodnight."

"You too, my love." And we kissed and fell into each other, and I put on my heels and dragged myself back downstairs.

Saturday, Christmas Day eve, is what Lizzie calls 'Dyke Day.' The day of the night of our romp at Cramps had been a workout for me, with the CHOP trip and all. But tonight, I take the town.

I love my Christmas vacations. The giving, the doing, the smiles brought to so many faces, but tonight. Tonight is mine. My female guests at The Bellevue spent a couple hours of pampering at the Spa. I was back to the townhouse where Flora's girls were waiting and set up to do hair and nails. I called the spa at the Bellevue and proclaimed that all nails in my group will be done in "Ride me Red." And that Cass should let the nail technician know she is a Soul Rider. I got my hair done in an old style 1950s UpDo fitting of a Queen Bee, which exposed the nape of my neck, where I placed a Queen of Spades temporary tattoo, which was offset by my big gold dangling Queen of Spades earrings. Nobody would be able to miss it. Every black chick in the place would be up my ass begging to eat my pussy. Especially after I pulled my usual routine.

Back at the Bellevue, it was all about the women. Everyone was getting cut and styled while the mani/pedis were happening. Cass found out why I told her to tell the manicurist about being a Soul Rider when she looked at her right thumbnail and there was the logo. I was at home when she called me on my supercell. She was getting her nails done, too. She said, "How the fuck..."

"Hey, Cass, I'm a Soul Rider. We gotta represent." And I told her to check out my right-hand thumbnail which matched hers when we got to the bar."

"I love you, Hannah Todd, and I'll kill anyone who says different."

There is nothing worse or harder on a woman than a useless man. Thank God I ain't got one of those. My man is a real man. A leader of men. He is my Moses, my Solomon. And tomorrow, he will lead his people to the promised land. Actually, he's just taking all the kids to the zoo, for their big annual lights show. So he's really more like Noah.

The doctor had conferences at HUP all day, but he would join Shawn, Mac, Bertha (Who would not be caught dead at Cramps), Toothy, Davante, and Harley, as I did not yet trust enough to take the chance of her overhearing something at Cramps. Aggie and Becca would be home with the twins. Ronnie and Herman led security; he never likes to be far from Celeste during outings like this. An additional two guards were with them just to back them up. The kids never saw them, and if they did, they didn't comment on them.

Hair and makeup done, we were all getting into our clothes and Terri, Flora's assistant designer, made sure everyone looked sharp and sexy. When Patty Chu came down in her little black dress it did not cling to her body, but floated around her. Almost sexy, but it was practically down to her knees. Terri and another girl marched her right upstairs, Terri with some kind of case in hand. When they came down Patty's skirt was four inches shorter and when she turned the skirt flowed more easily around her. Little Patty Chu was looking pretty darned sexy. She was going to find out just how sexy tonight. Her hair was done in long, flowing pigtails that came out of the sides of her head. She looked like a high school senior. All she needed was the plaid skirt, knee socks, and patent leather shoes. Her shoes were not patent leather, but they were four-inch stilettos I had encouraged her to buy.

Caroline was with us, half as a reveler, and half as a bodyguard. Never one to really tie one on, she maintained enough sobriety to be aware and ready if things went south. But she was dressed to kill, and she could do it on demand or on command. And remember, she's a dyke, or she used to be. I don't know. Let's just say she has some experience at Cramps. She spent six months as a bodyguard there between jobs. She knew everyone. She'd even slept with the owner, an old bull dyke who likes athletic women. I had two other female agents there keeping an eye out inside, and my boys were outside. If it's coming in, it's coming through Domingo, or one of the other two agents with him. Tonight, would be the only time I'd ask Dom to work during the holidays, but I needed him around at Cramps for a lot of reasons, and he knew why. That's all that mattered to Dom and I.

Like Herman said about pulling up to the Mummer's Museum, when we pulled up to Cramps it was truly like the President was showing up. If the President was a woman. All my Bridge girls were staying at The Bellevue, so they were all picked up after their own spa time and primping at the private Spa on Walnut Street that catered to well to do ladies. They were given instructions: All nails in 'Ride me Red.'

We came as a procession. First my car, then two others containing body guards and Bridge girls. When we pulled up to the door, Dom was out first, and everyone knew it when that big body jumped out of the front passenger seat. Then came the gal, Cassie calls 'Big Car.' And she was as formidable tonight as she is every day, an imposing figure. Then out came Cass and Peggy, the Twin Polish Towers. And as all my girls started to flood out of the back two cars, Lizzie and Caroline cleared the way as Patty and I, with Peggy on our left and Cass on our right, walked through the doors of Cramps, where the noise level was not too loud. That would change. But that would be later. Right now, a hush fell on the room, until we got a bout six steps in, with a major crowd behind us, and I held my hands out and yelled out, 'OKAY BITCHES, IT'S TIME TO PARTY!"

I looked around and the music quickly bumped up and everyone who was not coming up to greet us was out on the dancefloor getting close. That's when I walked over to the Bar with Caroline and the bartender rang the loud bar bell as my bodyguard helped me atop the bar.

"Ladies, ladies, ladies. My name is Hannah Todd. And you're in my town. And tonight, in this bar, your money's no good. Drinks are all on the house." Spoken to the sound of rousing cheers and lines forming at the bar. Of course, my tables were served first and never ignored. Especially when a brigade of lipstick lesbians set their sights on Patty Chu. They were really laying it on hot and heavy when one of the servers, a little bull dyke with a bad attitude, chased them away. I thanked her and told her to keep an eye on Patty. She did, too. But not a very close one.

Cass and Peggy, who, when they found out they were both Polish, became fast friends. When I saw the friendship jelling, I told them that it makes me happy that two friends of mine from two very different walks of life can get so close. They also kept an eye on Patty, who went from drinking to drunk and from swaying to the music in her seat to getting out there on the dance floor and shake a tail feather. And boy, did she shake. Shocked the shit out of all of us.

Then she further shocked us after dancing for half an hour when she came over to ask if anyone wanted to dance. Samantha said 'yes,' and off they went to a tune I don't know, but it was a rabble rouser. When the song finished and a slow song came on, Samantha returned to the table, but Patty disappeared into the crowd. One slow song melded into another and nobody could find Patty. As the second slow song came to an end Cassie spotted her, and she was dancing with an average sized redhead, and they were looking into each other's eyes like they were ready to eat each other alive. The next song was one from like a hundred years ago, called 'Old Time Rock and Roll.' And Patty and the redhead both rocked and rolled. When that came to an end the DJ announced that the last song before she takes a break will be, as it always is, an Elvis Pressley tune.

"Alright, Bitches. I'm gonna take a little break right now, and as always, I'm gonna take you out with The King." And she put on Elvis singing "Can't Help Falling in Love With You." Holly and I looked at each other and ran into each other's arms, crying through the whole song, while people who hadn't attended our wedding tried to comfort us. The Bridge girls set them straight and huddled around us to give us some of that sister love. My twin towers looked on, not understanding. But in support of whatever it would take to stem the flow of tears. But once the word got out that it had been our first dance at our wedding, it was time to get out the mop. Every lipstick lesbian in shouting distance was sobbing her eyes out.

While the two of us are locked in that tearful embrace, Patty Chu was being seduced on the dancefloor by a redhead who would not take her eyes off of Patty's. And when that song ended that Ginger wrapped her arms around her and put a lip lock on her you couldn't unlock with a crowbar. And Patty? She was kissing back. Les stood up to go over and break it up.

"Les," I said. "Cool your jets. Patty's a big girl. She will be fine. It's just a kiss. Trust me, more is coming. We'll keep an eye on her. Let her build some memories, let her savor some new delights. Don't be such a stick in the mud."

"Yeah, right? I've been here for like two-hours and no woman has tried to kiss me." Lizzie, who was sitting right next to her, grabbed her head and kissed her square on the lips, firmly. "That one wasn't really a real kiss, more of a 'I'm available if you want to try.' kind of kiss." Didn't Les grab Lizzie's face and give her a big smooch? Lizzie stood up and put her hand out to Les, and she took it. Off they went, toward the back of the bar. You know, the part where it's dark and mysterious. I didn't see them for forty-five minutes after that. And again, Patty disappeared.

Even with a few drinks and Christ knows how much cannabis I was worried about my two novices, so I decided to step into the dark side of the back of the bar. I could almost feel a change in temperature as I walked into that space lined with leather coated benches and separated into cubicles to give couples, or throuples or what have you a little privacy.

First, we found Patty, and she was sitting back getting her pussy eaten by that redhead. She had her skirt up, her pantyhose and panties down and that gal was going to town. And Patty was howling, and apparently not caring if anyone heard. I decided it would be foolish to interrupt them, not to mention damned rude.

Les and Lizzie found a spot and had continued on where they left off at the table, only hotter and heavier. Lizzie had her hand down Les's pants and she was moaning inside those kisses. "Are you girls under control?"

"Go away." Les said. "Okay." And back to the party we went.

When the clock struck one, the owner of the bar declared they were closed and only members of the private party were allowed in or out. By this time, all the drunks and degenerates had been shown the door. Except for Patty Chu, of course. She was not fully there yet, but she was on her way. The entire atmosphere changed, as if someone waved a magic wand over the place. Raucous Rock and Hip Hop, and Electrox were replaced by a light jazz. Sometimes up tempo and sometimes down. But the whole place got easier going, but the drinks kept flowing.

The owner, who had become a friend, but not a close friend, put on a few extra people for tonight. I let her know ahead of time that it may be busier than last year, which turned out to be their best day of 2054. She came by as it got later to let me know that tonight will blow away last year's take and she asked me if we could make it a two-day event. After apologizing for laughing in her face, I thanked her for her hospitality and asked her how business was. She said it's been steady with peaks during holidays and such. Booking a bunch of occasions from weddings to funerals.

"Tonight really helps me to sail into '56 full steam ahead. I noticed we have a booking for you. In February, I believe."

"Yes. It's a leadership conference among senior women in the Todd-Bernstein family of companies, including the three new ones. I think it will be seventy-five of my best and brightest female employees. Lizzie would know the number."

"Don't ask me. Tilly's got that one."

And just as she says that, don't Linnie Lawrence and Tilly come marching through the door, bitching about what it took to get past the guards.

"You should have seen Mrs. Lawrence," Tilly said. "She was screaming that she was Miss Todd's lawyer. When Domingo saw her, he knocked down two people getting to her. He's a tank."

It was getting late, and I was beginning to think I wasn't going to see either of the girls. I immediately ordered Tilly a drink, and Linnie a mocktail.

"Is everything okay, ladies?"

They looked at each other, and Linnie spoke first, but it just didn't sound like her. This was her irritated pregnant lady voice.

"I know your bodyguards have a job to do, but I didn't expect them to be assholes. Yes, ma'am, No, ma'am, I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Linnie, you have a problem with my people because they're polite?"

"No. I just didn't expect to have to climb a mountain to get here."

"Who do you think you are, Hannah Todd?" Lizzie called out. Everyone laughed.

Tilly just wanted to know how she could help. I told her to sit down, hit the vape, have a few drinks and party down. I introduced her to the members of the gang she doesn't know. She knew Les and Peggy from Recovery, and Caroline, of course. As she looked around, she saw RFS people scattered throughout the crowd, either working or joining in the fun. She excused herself to use the ladies' room and got hit on twice going to and three times coming back from. She was besides herself laughing when she got to the table.

Several women offered to 'buy' Cass and Peggy drinks. They were very popular amongst the basketball and volleyball players. One gal, black girl, stopped by to hit on Cass and thank me for the drinks and to say I really bring it. That's the part I like the best. Especially when I found out she plays in the WNBA. The Bridge girls, so used to this, were getting a real kick out of it.

About eleven-fifteen, Patty Chu returned to us. She was done in. She looked ridden hard and put away wet. The poor thing. But she had a smile on her face. "Hannah. I think I'm a lesbian. What do you think?"

"I'm going to answer your question with a question. Do you eat pussy?"

"No."

"Then you're not a lesbian." Lizzie said, "You can't be a lesbian if you don't eat pussy."

"Oh my God, do I smell like pussy, Hannah?"

"You do smell like pussy somethin' awful, Patty."

"Wen is going to kill me. Oh my God, I cheated on my husband. He's going to divorce me for being a lesbian."

I stuck the vape pen in her face and said, "Hit it." And she did. We got another drink into her and she calmed down. The jocks and some of the rowdier crowd; the denim and leather set, started to make fun and pick at her. Well, my people took great exception to that and it stopped forthwith. No furniture or bones were broken, but you could say that an ego or two was bruised.

Even though Linnie and Tilly were here for only a short time, I knew I couldn't make it much longer. "I'm done in, girls. There's a car here for you when you are ready to roll. Call it the Bellevue Express if you will. Cassie, don't go beating anyone up."

"Hey, I got my girl here to cover me."

"You bet your sweet ass you do." Peggie said. Caroline stayed behind just in case. Patty stayed behind because she did not want to show up at the hotel without her two big girls by her side to protect her from big, bad Dr. Chu. Her twin towers stayed where they were for the rest of the night.

I asked Holly if she would take the relatively short walk down Walnut Street, from the Bellevue, after we dropped off Angela, Missy and Sam. Dom hated the idea, but jumped out of the driver's seat and handed it over to an agent I was not familiar with. Then he called it in that he was short-handed. Then he asked me if I was armed, and I told him I have my snubbie in my purse. He just nodded his head. Holly was unarmed. This added a new element to our walk until we hit about Sixteenth Street, where we magically picked up two of the Royce Agency's finest. We were feeling pretty secure, and I was thinking a lot less about my.38 and a lot more about Holly.

We had been holding hands the entire walk and by the time we hit Eighteenth Street, they were swaying. "Once through the Park, Holl?"

"Sure, Hann."

I started humming and gripped her hand tighter, as we walked through the Square. I looked over into those beautiful brown eyes.

"Take my hand... Take my whole life, too. 'Cause I can't help falling in love with you."

"Oh Hannah, why do you make me cry so?" And she grabbed me and wrapped her long arms around me and hugged me to her. My face was in the spot that was once my happy place. The poor bodyguards thought we were having a moment or something. In a sense, we were. Once we cried it out, we went down Nineteenth Street to Panama and home. Four very relieved bodyguards in tow.

On Sunday morning, along with breakfast, the concierge brought each of our Bellevue guests a package, with Eagles gear; Jerseys, Sweatshirts, Hats, you name it. And everyone was left a schedule. And God bless them all, even our friends from Pittsburgh were wearing Eagles green. But it wasn't a stretch for them. Because we were playing the dreaded Dallas Cowboys, hated almost as much in the western part of Pennsylvania as in the east. The grandparents weren't coming this year, but Herman and Peggy and Ronnie and Caroline will be with us, all Eagles fans. Especially Peggy. Don't ask. During the season she hangs a flag in her living room. It's a riot. The McKellys are coming and neither of the boys had ever been to a live game. But they had their Eagles gear.

Getting into the stadium was a mad rush for us, with all the kids. Bigs and Littles. But once we got into the suite, everything was just that. Sweet. Toothy couldn't get over it. In that unfiltered, booming voice, like he wanted the whole stadium to hear, he shouted, "Hannah Todd, who the fuck are you?"

The kids did their little dance and finger pointing routine. Toothy was duly embarrassed and Cass shared his embarrassment, obviated by the good smack she gave him. Not that it did anything to hurt him. Or discourage him. Davante showed up with Harley, and she was stunning. As every woman says about a woman that beautiful, "I Hate her." But I can't hate her too badly, she's sporting a Jason Kelce jersey. Who doesn't love Jason Kelce?" Because his brother was nice enough to send him something to wear, Davante decided to leave his Washington jersey behind. There is a change coming in his life, and it's probably a real good time for him to be an Eagles fan.

The kids were having a great time. The McKelly boys kept thanking me, and I kept encouraging, along with my brood, to eat. Harry and Hilly were doing fine. They ordered cheesesteaks from the concierge service and they were having those with French fries, when the teams took the field, to cheers and boos. After a hundred years, we're still the boo birds.

I'm not gonna give a blow by blow. I'm just gonna say it was tight at the half and up until the end of the third quarter when the Birds intercepted a ball for a pick six and it was all downhill for Dallas from there. And like a lousy poker hand, they folded. Thirty-eight to Twenty-one was the final score. Fly Eagles Fly! And another step toward the playoffs. And for us, off to the cars and off to Ralph's, one of the oldest restaurants in town. And the best Italian, located on a street that everyone still calls The Italian Market on 9th Street in South Philadelphia.

Ralphs was like a step into the past. It had an elegance and charm that was old South Philly in the early twentieth century. They had kept the place up, but never changed the concept. Or, thank God, the food. Marinara sauce that is at least neck and neck with Bertha's when the herbs are fresh. Local kids did most of the serving and cleaning up and a lot of the cooking was done by Italian men and women passing their trade down within the family. And doing a damned fine job of it. I give the place an A++ every time.

The children were wonderful and they talked about the things wonderful children should talk about and they did the things wonderful children should do. Our out-of-town guests were very impressed, but at this point they would expect no less. Agriculture was a big topic of conversation and everyone had an opinion. Don't get me started with hydroponics, Agriponics, Biodiversity, straight organics, this soil versus that soil, fertilizers. The topics were wide ranging and sometimes deep. And the kids showed just how smart they were.

The ride home to the townhouse was pretty quick. Good. Bertha had dessert from the

Bakery on Rittenhouse Row and the pastries were terrific, and a nice croissant with my coffee is always nice.

"Everyone, quick upstairs and pick the clothes you want to take to the mountains... Call McKelly."

"McKelly."

"Les are your boys under control? Rory is here and clothes for both boys."

"Do me a favor, Hannah. Throw them all in a bag. I've got a bag here packed for each of the boys and a big one for Shawn and I. I know it's hard to keep up with you, but have I thanked you for this yet?"

"Every day you show up for work you thank me, Leslie McKelly. Without you my world doesn't run right."

"Do you get some kind of mad demented kick out of making people cry? Cause, ya know, you do it all the time."

"One of my superpowers, Les. Sometimes it just happens. I can't help myself. Sometimes I just can't control myself."

"Well then, you just keep it up. You're always worth the cry."

-------------------------------------------------

Monday was on us before we knew it. When both Harry Tuttlehill and Shawn McKelly, Jr., both showed up in Eagles green, all the kids and half the adults made sure that when they hit the Poconos, they'd be representing too, and went up and changed. It was always my intent to wear my number 50, Boo Boo Baker jersey. His performance this year was not as spectacular as last year, but he played a great game.

There were six cars in our motorcade to the Lodge, but it was hard to decide which was the clown car. I decided for us. They all were. When we arrived at the Villas at the Lodge, it looked like the Keystone Kops had arrived. We got a Villa and a Deluxe Villa.

The Tuttlehill parents were coming down, and they took a Whirlpool, Fireplace Suite in the Main Lodge. Toothy and Cass wanted to get away from all the kids, so we put them and Ronnie and Caroline together in their own suite. Everyone had free rein until five-thirty, when I expected them all in my Villa for dinner, which the hotel would be catering for us, we'd serve in our usual style, kids first, followed by adults. Burgers and dogs for the kids, with French fries, and steak and baked potatoes for the adults. A real Poconos kind of dinner. The caterer we used, recommended by our usual caterer at home, specialized in beef dinners for hotels and private clients in and around the Mt. Pocono area. You know, for rich folks like me.

In a nutshell, the Poconos was a blast. Everyone had fun and Alvin and Herman took Harry, Hilly and Celeste to meet with the swim team, where Harry spoke about swimming in general and the backstroke in particular. She took all her back strokers with Hilly and worked on their stroke and form. Herman and Celeste worked with some of the younger, under eleven group on general swimming technique. Herman would talk to them, and he would have Celeste demonstrate. Everyone was very impressed with his little eight-year-old protégé except one ten-year-old boy. Yep, we've been here before with the same result. Only he was cocky and she beat him by a quarter of the length of the pool. It was like she was shot from a gun. And man, was he embarrassed.

Holly could tell Celeste was going to say something rude, but made a preemptive strike, "Celeste Bernstein!" And she shut her mouth, went up to the kid and offered him her hand, which he took and shook. After that, Harry went up to her to tell her that she is a class act and it's important to be humble, whether you win or lose. And if Harry said it, it was the law to Celeste.

We stopped at a place down in Quakertown that was called Charlie's Chuck Wagon. The theme was the old west and everyone was served around a grill where a man dressed in cowboy casual cooked us up a grand dinner in the style of the nineteenth century. The kids went bonkers over it. But at dinner tonight, with all of us together at two long tables, side by side, the talk was about the slopes. It hadn't snowed much this year, even in the mountains, but it was plenty cold and the snowmakers were working overtime on all the slopes.

This being Shawn's first time on skis, he started out on the bunny slopes with the Littles. But he soon got it. Shawn went down to the river rink whenever he could. If he made enough working for his dad, he'd always take some and grab a friend and go skate. So, his balance was good and he had no fear of falling. The big girls saw this and immediately dragged him up to one of the more advanced hills. Not the Super G, but a pretty long run. Not steep, but long. And being the stubborn young Irishman from South Philly, he took the lift up the hill with the girls, and when he came down, with each of them on either side, he was flying. And it looked like the girls were working to keep up with him. And they each had several years' experience on the slopes. Les and Peggy and I were there watching to see how the Littles were progressing when Les grabbed my arm. Firm enough to stop the blood flow. I looked up on the closest big hill, and there was Shawn, Jr. flying down the hill, screaming, "How do I stop?" Harry yelled out to "Snow Plow."

But he kept going. Hilly, the best of the skiers, took a couple of strokes and got right up with Shawn and said, "Hockey stop!"

And that's just what he did. He plowed to right, came to an abrupt halt and fell over. The girls were laughing when they skied over to him, but they admired his guts for even trying what he just did. And then you know what he said. "Let's go again. That was great."

I thought Les was going to have a fit. I was just getting the circulation back in my arm when I pulled her back and said, "He's not a 'Little' anymore, Les. Let him go. Look at the acceptance he's getting from the girls. And these are some high-profile chicks. Give him the chance to learn how to be the stud he will be some day. We'll just keep an eye on him."

"As always, Queen Bee. You called it. But it ain't easy."

"Easy? He's got it made in the shade. Imagine having to grow up as George Barry, Jr. In Philadelphia, yet."

"Yeah. A lot of people are going to ask if he is related to the George Barry, the baseball star."

"Of all the things I find myself having to prepare my children for, Les, that is probably the toughest. I've tried to shield him from it, and Duane and I talk about it all the time. He thinks he's got the solution, but I don't know."

"Duane has a solution. It seems, for everything, it seems. Given what I know about him as a person and his history, I'm sure it's a good one."

"Well, it's not my first choice, that's for sure. He thinks I should divorce Holly, marry him, and he should adopt all four of my kids and live under the Royce moniker."

"Oh, Queen Bee, I don't see you favoring that at all. When I took this job, I came to work for a Miss Todd, and after a few months I have grown to expect to die working for a Miss Todd. Although, quite frankly, I would have absolutely no problem working for a Mrs. Royce. My choice would be whatever makes the Queen happiest."

"Well, Les. To be honest with you, the next move isn't mine."

"It's Holly's, isn't it?"

"Yep. Remember, Saturday night, when the DJ played the exit song out of her first set, do you remember what it was?"

"Of course, it was an Elvis song. Elvis is still VERY big on Second Street. It was Falling in Love With You. One of my very favorites."

"Well, it was the song for our first dance at our wedding." And my eyes got wet, and my throat just kept the words from coming out. Les was holding a soda and handed it to me, seeing my distress. I took a swig just to clear my throat. "Did you see what we did when it was playing at Cramps?"

"You were hugging and dancing, but mostly hugging."

"I could not let her go, Les. And when we left Cramps, and it was just us two, I had poor Dom drop us off on Walnut Street so we could walk the rest of the way home."

"The blood must have drained from his face when you asked him that."

"He was on that radio, 1-2-6."

"The point of the story is that after about a block I took her hand, and walked that way to the Square. When we walked into the Square, I started to sing to Holly, looking her right in those baby brown eyes of hers:"

"Take my hand... Take my whole life too. 'Cause I can't help falling in love with you."

"You bitch! Poor Holly. You really don't know what you do to people, Hannah, do you?"

"But, but... All I'm trying..."

"Forget what you're trying, and listen to people. Have a little Rachmones for the poor people who have to go up against the force of nature known as Hannah Todd. This poor girl, who you vowed to spend your life with, let's say, 'fall's ill.' And the woman who said she would be there for her, 'in sickness and in health,' jumps into bed with a man. A big, handsome, black man. To add insult to injury, she goes off and has his children. And every day, you make her watch as you parade this life you have created without her, right there out in front of her. That poor girl's heart must break a hundred times a day."

"What would you have me do, Les? I'm not a perfect person."

"You don't have to be perfect; you just have to be considerate. Have you asked her how she feels about your relationship with Duane and how it affects your relationship with her?"

"I really haven't, Les. I've been such a maniac lately. I guess I've just taken Holly for granted. She does a great job, with the house, and now the charitables and such. And she is amazing with the kids. And Bertha loves having her around. You know Holly. That quick wit of hers is starting to come back, and she's even fun to be with."

"Well, you poked the bear when you sang to Holly. And Elvis, yet. Hannah, that's just sacrilegious. Like tearing out pages of the Bible to write love notes on."

"Not that I'd discount that idea. Maybe it's time I poked the bear. Les, there is so much you don't know about Holly. I'm getting close to a full reveal, but I've got to talk to my wife before anything. Maybe when you know everything, you'll see it all from a different point of view. Just bear with me."

"Well, I think there's been enough talk about bears. I'm with you to the end, Queen Bee. If she needs a place to fall, I've always got a pair of arms."

"Thanks, Les, but I think Lizzie is best equipped to handle this kind of thing."

"Oh?"

"It's a lesbian thing."

"Ooooookay."

When we got home Tuesday evening, everyone was beat. But I was feeling a burst of energy. I hadn't run while we were up the mountains and I did more splashing and frolicking than actual swimming. So, while the kids were finding quiet places to go and the adults were cracking open some cold ones in the family room, I asked Holly if she wanted to take a quick stroll around the Square. It was cool but beautiful. Not really chilly.

"Is this a serious walk, Hannah, or a romantic one?"

That was a blast between the eyes I did not expect. But I handled it the best I could. "Let's just walk and see what happens."

"Promise you won't sing."

"Promise."

So, we headed down Panama to Nineteenth, to Rittenhouse Square, where we walked the perimeter and then through twice, up and back. I love the fountains, but they look so dead in the winter. And we talked as we walked.

"Holl, I'm really concerned about us. Although I have tried on multiple occasions, you repel any attempt I make at intimacy. I'm getting a message here, Holl, and I'm not sure how to read the signals. There are things we have, you and I, Holly, that nobody else can claim. Not even Duane 'fuckin' Royce. Talk to me, my love, tell me what you want. Tell me what it is you need."

As we were passing through the middle of the Square, she took my hands and pulled me to one of the benches and we sat down. "Hannah, I love you. You have done for me what no other human being has ever done for another. Someone brought me great harm and you struck him from this earth. Right in front of me. I cannot begin to tell you how that has helped with my therapy. When I play that scene over in my mind, I am not horrified. I'm grateful. Grateful for the vengeance you struck on one who altered my whole life, and not for the better."

"It was not an act of vengeance, Holly, it was an act of love. My love for you. Do you know what this experience did to me? You should only know what Peace Dunbar put me through until I brought his sorry ass to an end. I was out of my mind and at my wits end throughout the whole thing. It tore me apart, Holl, every minute you went through it, I was going through it too."

"The whole thing?"

"Yeah. Your boyfriend kept sending me bits and pieces of what he was doing to you. I was screaming and yelling at everyone, and throwing shit around. I broke a monitor. Holly, I am so sorry we couldn't get to you in time. I will hate myself for that for the rest of my life for that."

"Don't hate yourself. I could never do anything but love you. You have never done anything but love me. To a fault sometimes. Peace Dunbar was my fault, and I'm sorry I brought him into our lives. But I think you wasted the opportunity to make a real example out of him. I think there's more to Mr. Dunbar than meets the eye."

Ya think? At least she's starting to get it. I may start feeding her some of the things that have been and are being done by people putting money into her pockets. I still don't think she gets that the hit squad that took down Dunbar was made up of people she sees on a daily basis. Her daughter calls them aunt and uncles.

"Holly."

"Yes, Hannah."

"Duane."

"What about Duane?"

"He's a fact of life in our marriage, and I want to talk about him."

"He's the father of your children, Hannah. What more can you say?"

"I love you, Holly Bernstein, but I want Duane Royce in my life. I need him in my life. How can we make that work, Holly? I need to know. Only you can help me work it out. You were always the one to figure it all out and set it all up. Tell me, Holly, what should I do?"

We sat there, hand in hand, a tearful Holly straining for the right answer, the right thing to say. Anything to break the tension at this point.

"You should probably divorce me, Hannah. You are a rocket ship and I'm just dead weight."

"Stop it, Holly. I'm NOT going to divorce you."

"You're not?"

"What put that fool idea into your head?"

"I'm just watching it all play out in front of my eyes, watching you and Duane fall in love, and now the babies are here and how you love them together in that special way. When I see you looking at Duanee, and I know it's his father's face you see, you get this special look, Han. It doesn't happen with the Diva. Ya can't miss it. Les picked up on it. Linnie too."

"Really. I didn't know I was being that obvious. I thought we were doing a good job of keeping it all on the down low."

"Yeah, No. That ship sailed at I'm having Duane's babies. You did a shitty job. Not a body that works for us at the Navy Yard doesn't know that you and Duane are sleeping together and that he is the father of your children. And Holly Bernstein, she doesn't even have a desk at the Navy Yard. I'm supposed to be the fucking Vice President of this whole fucking outfit. What went wrong, Hannah? How did I get fucked so bad?"

"You didn't get fucked, Holly. You are a multimillionaire in your own right. You still draw a salary, take benefits and have stock options as VP of the umbrella company. If you walked away from me right now, you would walk away a very wealthy woman. You would never have to work a day in your life. But I wish you would just stay with us and keep doing what you are doing. Let's just raise our family and turn some happy children into happy adults. Todd-Bernstein Charitable Giving needs you. Did you see how your efforts went this holiday? This year at CHOP was our best ever. You got the best Santa, and I think he'll be back. I'll bet the Bridge girls talked your ears off about the tournament. Missy is over the moon that you will be coming back to take charge this year. It won't be long before Mr. Schaefer retires and Missy steps in. Isn't it enough, Holl? If you want more, I can pile it on. I certainly have a big enough pile on me."

"You do, Hannah, don't you? I'm sorry. And I hate it when you're mad at me." And the eyes started to tear up and it wouldn't be long before they'd flow.

"Holly, I'm not mad at you, just frustrated. It's been a very rough year in very many ways. Some days I think I'm going to explode. And this year coming is going to be even worse, except that I won't be having twins. I'll just be raising them while I'm trying to build my companies. If I have to kill someone, I'm going to make sure Royce doubles in size by the end of the coming year."

"Pretty ambitious, Han."

"Duane was a Lieutenant in the Navy, Holly. They promised him Lieutenant Commander if he shipped over."

"Shipped over?"

"Reenlisted."

"Ahh. Listen Han. I don't want to talk business with you. Yes, I'm happy running things from home and visiting Missy at the Bridge. And I love being around Bertha, Aggie, Becca, and the kids. And my friendship with Gloria is growing stronger as we watch our girls swim. So, I guess, yeah, I've got a pretty good life. But..."

"Are you feeling lonely, my darling?"

"Yes... I am."

"I'm so sorry, I did this to you, didn't I?"

"It's not about blame, Hannah. Sometimes it's just the cards you're dealt."

"Thank you, Holly. I needed that. It's been sitting on my chest like a five-hundred-pound weight. C'mon. Let's go back. I can smell Duanee's stinky diaper from here." She took my hand, and we walked, that way, back to the townhouse.

The older kids were in the kitchen, snacking and having hot cocoa. The Littles were all camped out in the big bedroom where they were all sleeping. Lily and Georgia were fast asleep, laying on each other, holding their blankies. Celeste, Kimmie, and Rory were playing on their tablets. The big mommas, Peggy and Cass, went up to tend to the kids and make sure everyone was in their pajamas. Les and I went up to see the babies. Aggie was holding the fort. These two days in the Poconos were the first for me away from the twins. It was really hard. Although I didn't show it, I was agonizing inside the whole time. But I was back, and it was baby time.

When they first saw me, they both cried and grabbed at me. It was too much, too quickly. Fortunately, Duane and Davante were right behind me. They practically got into a fistfight over who was going to take the Diva. So, I shoved little Duane into his father's arms and Uncle Davante got to hold Dina. Harley came up soon after and rescued Davante when it was time to change the Diva. "I can see why you call her the Diva. She's a pure soprano." But Harley turned out to do a pretty fair job of cleaning up my little princess. She was workin' it, and I was not getting in the way.

Thursday, the McKellys disappeared, and so did Peggy. The parade is two days away, and they have been away during a time when the club needed them. So, they got down to the clubhouse and put in sixteen-hour days until it was time to hit Broad Street. And the boys practiced, practiced, practiced. The club's theme this year was, "In the Dog House." With the big dogs, the little dogs and the pups. Rory was one of the pups who played banjo. Well, kinda.

When the Quaker City String Band hits Locust Street, it will pick up my son, and two of his bodyguards, and walk with the brigade to Walnut Street, where we would be there to fetch him back. There'd be a little hat and an umbrella and he would strut and stroll down Broad Street like an official Mummer. New Year's Eve is a five-minute holiday for the McKellys, and for Peg. They're putting the last-minute touches on everything and getting ready for the big show that only comes once a year.

New Year's Eve was dinner at my house with my crew and my out-of-town guests, as well as the Tuttlehills, the Chus, and the Lawrences. Lots of adults, plenty of kids and lots of babies. A madhouse? Oh yeah. But Bertha kept everything under control. She keeps them eating delicious things and it keeps them out of trouble. She even makes her own baby food. Has at least since Peach was born. She even sends some to Linnie.

"My Monique would be malnourished if not from the strained fruits and veggies we get from Bertha on a regular basis. And you should see her eat the stuff. Bertha makes it easy. She's a wonder on wheels."

"Thanks, Miss Linnie. If it will help that little girl grow, I'll just keep it coming."

"Love you, Bertha. But you have spoiled us all. My poor cook has to face us after we've had one of your palate pleasers."

Toothy said, "Hey Bertha, come with us when we go home and we'll immediately make you a full patch member of the club. We've got a great kitchen."

"And I've got two. One right here, and one up at home. And they do me just fine, thank you."

"Peace, Bertha. I promise I won't ask again." And Cass gave him a good whack.

We pulled up a feed to both the Soul Riders' clubhouse, and Becky out in western Maryland, a little before midnight, and fed it into the living room, where tables were set up for dinner for our company. Becky was on her tablet and trying to keep as quiet as she could, because it was after lights out. When the clock struck twelve, we all cried out, "Happy New Year!" We hugged, and we kissed and then that familiar call from on high. "Waaaaaahhh." And a line of mommies chugged their drinks and ran the four flights to assist Aggie in our ad hoc nursery in my 'Penthouse' suite. We had four babies and three of them were bawling uncontrollably. It wasn't us downstairs that roused the babies, it was the fireworks. And they went on for at least fifteen minutes, and when the Diva awoke, we had four inconsolable infants scared to death. Monique, the oldest, finally took hold when she was in, of all places, Harriet's arms. Thankfully, Gloria had little Hannibal downstairs already, he was so young and tiny.

It was all good, but it was after midnight and we had a parade to go to tomorrow. So, we got down to business, and got all the kids laid down and everyone went to their appointed places. The Tuttlehills, the Chus and Grimms were all carted off to the Bellevue, where we would pick them up to watch on the street as the parade goes by. The Tuttlehills would not be coming out together. Gloria would be relieved by Harry and Hilly, so she could join my group of hens so we could frolic in our spot at Broad and Walnut and just enjoy the parade. Mostly, though, I wanted to watch Georgie enjoy the parade. This would be a special one for him. The Shawns set it up that way.

It wasn't freezing out, but it was brisk. We all found ourselves in and out of the Bellevue to warm up. Holly even arranged for a high tea for the girls, Harry, Hilly, Kimmie, Celeste, Georgia and Lily. It gave them a good hour before our favorite string bands played at Walnut Street. Fortunately for us, we had enough people between my Bridge girls and our crew that nobody could take our spot and we were right up front. Between the Chus the Tuttlehills and us, our bodyguards were everywhere.

As soon as the Hegeman String Band left their spot on Walnut, up came Quaker City. I was standing in front of the Academy of Music when young Shawn came up to me and said that Georgie should come with him. Well, so did Domingo and one of the other guys in our detail. They were not happy, and stayed close to my little man. Shawn handed Georgie off to Rory, who was one of the 'Pups.' He gave Georgie a hat and an umbrella, and when the band started to play, Georgie strutted and strolled. Like he'd been a Mummer all his life. He marched with the band to Sansom Street, where the band stopped and Georgie said goodbye to his friend. His bodyguards promptly brought him to me standing there in front of the Union League. Now with three big guys around me.

Back down at Locust Street, Celeste was waiting with Herman till the Polish American Band marched up. Peggy immediately came over to her and gave her an umbrella and took her hand. They marched up to Walnut Street, where my gang and I were now waiting. Celeste was so excited. Holly stayed back at the Townhouse with the babies. Watching Herman and Peggy with her baby, and her love for them, is starting to break her heart as she begins to see her world coming apart.

Durning was the next band up, but I'd had my fill. It was cold and I was tired of the in and out at the Bellevue. I wanted to be home. I wanted some time with my babies. Tonight, everyone would go home. Toothy and Cass would come up to Romansville for the night and then Duane and I would Chopper them to Pittsburgh tomorrow afternoon and be home for a late dinner. The Tuttlehills and the Chus headed home. Ah, the Chus.

The day after she had her lesbian experience at Cramps, Patty told her husband all about it. Blow by blow. He stripped her off, threw her on the bed, and practically raped her. She said he had never done that before, and when he finished, she got down on her knees and begged him to do it again. He did it twice more that night, and that was when Patty Chu took a lover. A lesbian lover. With her husband's one hundred percent approval.

Toothy and Cass loved the house. Toothy couldn't get over the Greenhouse and our Farm. They thanked us profusely for the rest of the visit, telling me they had never had a better vacation or been treated better by anyone. The flight was fun, with me, Toothy, Cass, Ronnie and Caroline, and Duane at the wheel, of course.

When we got home, it was dinner time and we were back at our same rowdy place as always. We had Sunday ahead of us before the kids have to go to school, so we decided we were going to take it easy, maybe hit the Tuttlehills for swimming, and spend as much time with the kids as possible. 'Cause it's a new year, and on Monday the Third, the insanity starts all over again.

When everyone was in bed and Duane and I were nose to nose, naked, on our bed, we engaged in some pillow talk, but not the sexy kind. Duane said that he has appointments all next week with potential squad members and the owner of a security company looking to get out. He's got two hundred and fifty agents and that would more than double our size in one fell swoop. It would also double our payroll, so we had to have work for these people when they came on board. It was a real balancing act between having enough people and enough work. At this point, we had more than enough work. We just had to coordinate it all. And vetting this many people will be a bear. I can see myself getting very involved in this.

Neither Duane nor I had the energy to really fuck tonight, although we wanted to. We did make a slow, tender love to each other. I came, but it wasn't a gusher. It was more of a purr that ran through my body. Nobody ever made me purr before Duane Royce.

Duane's meeting with Terrence Girard, the owner of the Girard Security Force, took place. Terry was trying to get the most for the business, and Duane was trying to make him see reason, and that his number, Five million, was just too high. So, Duane made him an offer of Two-point Five Million, and a two percent stake in the company. He jumped on it. Also included in the deal was his services, administrative and field, for the first ninety days. His help in integrating his troops into ours would be invaluable.

It was from here that we found two additional members of our squad. On top of the vetting Girard had done, we did a special 'Spanner' vet on both of them, and they turned out to be what we needed. Archer, the first we took to the Greenhouse to meet the team, was what Herman called 'the attitude guy.' Herman was concerned that he would break ranks at just the wrong time and fuck us on a mission. Duane thought not. He met with Archer before the meeting with the team and had a really good feeling about him. It grew contagious, because after the first mission, Archer was becoming the MVP. He gave the word 'silent' a new meaning when it came to our work. As soon as someone heard the swoosh of an arrow, they were dead. Guess who our new first man in is?

When Duane met Ninja, he laughed. Right in the guy's face. He was short and skinny, maybe five-five, one-fifty. Duane had already rejected two guys from Girard as non-hires. He felt those two were the kind of guys who were driving Girard out of the business. He couldn't understand why Girard kept this guy for the past three years. He was ready to dump Ninja, when the man asked Duane who his toughest guy was. "You're looking at him." And he pointed to Herman.

The gym facility at the Navy Yard was second to none, and had just been completed two years ago, with a full Olympic sized pool and a full-sized boxing rink. Ninja invited Herman to meet him at the rink and said that if Herman could take him down and hold him down, he would walk away. But if he could take Herman, he would want double the salary we were offering. Duane was hesitant, but Herman said, "Bring it on."

I went through life with the opinion that nobody could take on Herman. No one on the team would even consider trying it for fun. But Ninja challenged all that. And when he stepped into the rink, Ninja bowed to him and Herman said, "Just you watch, little man, you are gonna get the whuppin' of your life. That was the day Ninja joined the team.

Poor Herman could not get a hand on him and found himself on his back on the mat time and again. After ten minutes of virtually being thrown around by this little man, Herman was pounding on the mat, screaming into the air. He brought a hush to the entire sports complex when he called out like a wounded lion. And then he just walked over to the corner of the rink where Duane was standing, and he said, "Just hire this fuckin' guy, Duane. Ain't nothin' like him." And that's exactly what happened.

When Duane and Herman walked Ninja down to the Greenhouse to meet with the team, Archer was with us. I was there too. When they walked into the Greenhouse, all the team bowed, and held their bow until we were inside. Ninja bowed back and Duane took charge.

"This is the first time we are welcoming two new members to our squad. They understand what we do and they will be with us on the next mission. Archer is going to be our new point man, and will get us in more silently than we ever have before. Speaking of silently, Ninja will also be a 'first man in' kind of guy. We will be putting his stealth skills to the test before long. We currently have no missions planned, but you guys will soon find out that they jump out at you outta nowhere. Our average mission around her comes and goes in three days."

"Three days?" Archer asked.

"Yep." Herman said, "Plan it, practice it, and pursue it. That's what we do."

"Hoo-Rah," came the call from the team."

"Miss Todd has some things she wants to say. Hannah."

"Alright, team. What I'm going to say is old business to most of you. I guess I'm really talking to the new guys now. When you hired on, you came with us to protect the property and persons of our clients. Every day, RFS agents put their lives on the line working to protect our clients. But this team is different. Although in your everyday work lives, that is what you will be doing, you will be doing something more. RFS is about prevention. The squad is about the cure. Our job is to either catch the bad guys in the act or before they do the harm, they mean to bring. In that regard, we perform missions that end any possibility of these guys bringing harm again."

"Love the concept," Archer said, "But I don't get how it works. How come I've never heard of you guys?"

"Oh, you have. You just don't know you have."

"Now I'm really confused."

"You've heard of us in the news, but it just wasn't attributed to us. Let me use the most famous and recent example. Peace Dunbar."

And all the old members of the squad looked at me like I had betrayed them. I really put my foot in it and I had to stem the bleeding.

"Wait a minute here. Is there anyone here that will not accept Ninja and Archer into our group? Speak now. What we are is all about trust. And if we cannot trust these two, how can we go into battle with them?"

"Battle?" Ninja said.

"That's right. You have just become a part of Hannah Todd's Delta Force."

"And that's who killed Peace Dunbar?" He said as he pointed around the room.

"No." I said. "I killed Peace Dunbar."

"You didn't kill him," Archer said. "You blew him up."

"Fuckin' right I did."

"You are one bad ass. I'm gonna like workin' for you. So, when's the next mission, man? I'm stoked!"

"Good, that's the kind of attitude I expect from my first team. Although we don't have anything on the horizon, Duane and I have been talking, and we think it's worth pursuing a hunt for the bandits who have been pulling home invasions in the area. So far, they have tried to hit only one of our clients, but failed when they were repelled. But they have conducted at least four successful home invasions of wealthy folks within a ten-mile radius of us since Thanksgiving. I don't like it and I don't like the direction it is headed. Ten Grand to anyone who comes up with a way to bring this to an end. This offer extends to no one outside the squad. Only you guys."

"You don't mess around, do you, Miss Todd?" Ninja asked.

"No, I don't, Ninja, and the better you get to know me, the more you'll find that out."

A big "Amen" fell over the crowd.

"Do you always conduct your meetings here, at the Greenhouse?"

"Yes, Ninja. There are no mics or cameras in the Greenhouse and it is swept on a regular basis for bugs. Twice before our meetings. Does anyone have any questions, suggestions, ideas?"

"I hear that during those home invasions, they have been using overwhelming force. Is eleven or twelve of us enough?"

"It's gonna have to be for now, Archer. It's not easy to find people with the qualities that the people in this greenhouse have. And the way we pursue our missions, it's not about quantity, it's about quality of agents and excellence of execution. Usually, we do the initial hit and let law enforcement do the heavy lifting."

"I saw the Dunbar scene. I'd say you did some heavy lifting." After a chuckle from the crowd, Domingo spoke up. "It was nothin'. Like liftin' a feather."

"And our ultimate goal was achieved."

"Killing Peace Dunbar?"

"No. Letting the whole world know what a piece of shit he was. I'll bet you can search the whole city and not find one Peace Dunbar fan. You may be able to search the entire earth and not find one."

"I guess it's a fool who gets on your bad side, Miss Todd." Archer said.

A variety of opinions came from the crew, including that the person would be a fool for the last time. If it was me he was being a fool with.

"Just go out and do your jobs, be who we expect you to be. Who your mother would want you to be. And you'll never have a problem with me." And Archer and I never had a problem. Except when he decided to teach Georgie archery. But that's another story altogether.

Everything was going along swimmingly through mid-January. Duane and Herman and the RFS crew at the Navy Yard were signing up new agents weekly, and finding places for them as well. Duane, not that he did not have enough to do, reviewed our biggest clients' security profiles and was suggesting from a thirty to a one hundred percent increase in their details due to the continued home invasions. And everyone was biting. And our agents were working their tails off and bringing in Boo coo bucks for the company. Several had been assigned to work in town for Recovery and four were sent overseas as field agents to bring us home more lost girls. And now we are finding boys.

Our new boys on the squad were put on the regular house rotation, so they could meet the family and our kids could become familiar with them. In an emergency, that could mean everything. In the beginning, Georgie didn't see much of Archer, but he and Ninja became great friends. Ninja is incredibly nimble and a bit of an acrobat. He would do flips and headstands and all kinds of neat tricks that Georgie would applaud. One day, Ninja would save his life. But, again, that's another story.

Gloria was over on the fifteenth, with her shadow, Rapper Malone, teaching Holly and Lizzie and I Mahjong. Duane had just landed his latest acquisition, an MH-9, Little Bird Helicopter. He and Ronnie had just taken it out for a spin and landed it out in front of the house, where we would be building our Helipad, later this year. Duane wanted Ronnie to have hours on this chopper, as he wanted Ron to be its primary pilot, in time. The boys came in for lunch, and as soon as Ronnie said, "I'm starvin'." All hell broke loose, and all of our supercells went off. We were being called to the network.

"Alert. Tuttlehill property being invaded. There's got to be fifty of them. All agents from all companies, Mayday!"

I got on the call to Tilly and told her I want every possible agent in the vicinity of the Tuttlehills to tighten up the properties they were guarding and to send any possible extra operators to the Tuttlehills. The comm-link was blowing up, out of control. But what got to me most was the gunshots. Harriet and Kimmie Tuttlehill were there. My God, Celeste was there. Duane looked at Ronnie and said, "To the chopper." And off they went, with me following behind trying to tuck my holster into my pants.

"No, Hannah!" Duane said.

"I'm going, Duane. Its Celeste."

So, I jumped in with Duane and Ronnie, carrying my medical bag, followed by Domingo, Caroline, with a sniper rifle, and Archer with his bow and quiver. In a minute we were in the air and in five, at the Tuttlehill residence, where the battle was brewing. As Duane made his first sweep in the front of the property, there were four bad guys getting out of a car, and Duane blasted it with one of the machine guns and it just blew up, and they went flying. He brought the chopper around again to a place where more bad guys were trying to get past our agents who were trying to keep them out of the house. He blasted them with the machine guns as well.

I had my Glock out and I was doing my best to pick off who I could, but not having much luck. Archer told Duane to take a low pass right along the front of the house, where he couldn't really reach in with the machine guns without hitting our guys, Duane made the sweep and Archer unleashed three arrows, and three bad guys fell. Impressive? I'll say.

While the boys did most of the fighting, I did my best to appraise the situation. The cops hadn't arrived yet, although my gal who is locked in the saferoom with the Tuttlehill girls, the Bernstein girls and Hilly said the first thing she did was to call 9-1-1. It looked like there were a couple of skirmishes still happening around the outside of the pool area, and it looked like some of the bad guys were fading into the woods around the property. I called into the comm-link and let the guys know what I saw. I watched as three guys jumped to and either kept chasing them down or shooting them.

Once Duane saw that our boys had things under control, he landed the chopper, as close to the house as he could, and we all jumped out and ran in, except for Archer, who was guarding the chopper and looking for someone else to kill. Before I ran into the house, behind Duane, I called out to the troops, "This is Archer. He's in charge till Duane and Herman are done. Anyone has a problem with that, has a problem with Hannah Todd." There were no problems, and Archer became my newest guardian. Anyone messes with Hannah Todd, and they are going to find an arrow up their ass. I like my men dedicated.

When I finally got inside to where the safe room was, there was Herman, shotgun in hand, and four dead bodies around him. After we covered them up so the girls wouldn't see, we opened the door to the saferoom and the agent, followed by the girls came out and hugged me, as my supercell let mom know her babies and their friend were all okay.

Gloria would be increasing her staff of RFS agents. Even more than Duane recommended. She vowed this would never happen again. At the end of the day, two of my guys were injured, but not life threatening. There were fourteen dead bad guys, eleven wounded, and five captured unharmed. Thirty altogether. But there was one missing. And I had him.

The Tuttlehill contingency of guards, with Gloria at my house with two of her guards, was only seven. If Duane had his way, it would have been fifteen. A much more substantial defense. Now, Gloria Tuttlehill would travel with no less than six bodyguards and her home would be guarded by, including those she travelled with, no less than twenty guards. At times they were tripping over each other, but it made Gloria comfortable. Don't even get me started on the girls.

Well, the news of the Tuttlehill home invasion and the fact that RFS agents swept in to save the day, when law enforcement was slow to respond, hit the news and hit it big.

Poor Tilly. The next day, the phones at RFS at the Navy Yard were blowing up. So many that field agents were answering calls. We were going to need more people. We were growing faster than we had ever dreamed. That was when Duane set his goal at five hundred agents by year's end. Herman almost fainted.

When it came time to face the press and take credit for a job well done, I told Duane I wanted no parts of it. It's his company. Go take credit. And he did. But standing right next to him was Herman Krass, the man who stood the last line of defense, with nothing but a shotgun and raw guts. They were both becoming the faces of RFS, and when Herman walked the streets of South Philly with his girl, everyone recognized him. Just another reason for his Peggy to be proud.

Then there's the little fact that we had captured one of the home invaders, and he seemed to know a lot about what was happening. I knew that because I fed him to the squad, and they got answers. In fact, they got some of the most important information we had ever collected. And they found a very important player that would open up our pursuit of justice that much wider.

Andrew "Whips" Wilder was one of the higher ups in this Home Invasion Squad. We ran his sheet, and he was known for it and had spent nine years in prison for his participation in a home invasion. His original sentence was eighteen years, but it was reduced due to prison overcrowding. I don't think that will be a problem now. Justice delayed is justice denied. And there will be no more denial.

The squad got Wilder to confess to everything, but 9-1-1, during which he had not yet been born. He was stubborn for a day, and filled with remorse the second. But it was all pitch and catch on the third day. We asked, and he answered. They kept him hung up for those three days, during which they beat him and put him through all kinds of hell, until Caroline did what she does best. She held a machete to his face and told him if he didn't do a very good job of answering every single question they asked, she would chop his dick off and shove it down his throat. Like a canary, he sang.

What he fed us at first was pretty inconsequential, but as the threats grew scarier, the more he gave us and the broader its scope. People in prison or other places on the outside who were pulling the strings or working on behalf of the gang. He gave us names of associates, people who had hired the gang, people who worked in support of them and, most importantly, what happened to the goods. Almost half of what was stolen from Chester County residences was hard goods; Antiques, jewelry, artwork, gold and silver, etc. The cash was easy. But there usually wasn't much of that.

By the fifth day, we cut him down and decided to feed him. We gave him plenty of bad cop, now it's time for good cop. And the timing was good.

"Tell me, Mr. Wilder," Caroline asked. "Where does it all go, the hard goods? Who are your fences."

Gaunt and drawn, trying to wolf down everything she put in front of him, he looked over at her and said, "I can't tell you that. They'll kill me." Caroline laughed and laughed, and then she said, "But are they gonna cut your dick off and feed it to you?"

"Rose, Dieter Rose."

"The antiques dealer?"

"Yes, ma'am."

That was it. The smoking gun. The fence. Now we knew who he was, where he was located, and how to get hold of him. If we had the fence, especially one who fenced for so many, we could stop the whole shooting match. We can deconstruct Rose's system and figure out who is doing all the property crime in Chester County, and beyond, with any luck. Better yet, if we take our time, maybe we can discover others of his ilk, and take out a few fences. They really tend to be the kingpins of such operations.

Wilder was supplying us with a pretty steady flow of information. Fear of dying, or being tortured to death, has a way of doing that to you. So, we kept him alive. For the time being. As we move forward in our next steps, there's no telling how things this guy knows can help us move forward. But I had to make a move, and I knew just what it was. I was going shopping.

"First Republic Antiques," the effeminate man on the other end of the phone said.

"My name is Hannah Todd. Can I please speak to Dieter Rose?"

"Yes, Miss Todd. Please hold, Miss Todd. I won't be a minute, Miss Todd."

Another one who thinks I'm the dragon lady. Well, that's his problem. Let's see how Rose handles it.

"Miss Todd, Dieter Rose. How wonderful to have you contacting my shop. I hope you will be paying us a visit."

"That's why I'm calling. My dear friend, Gloria Tuttlehill, and I will be in town on Friday, and would love to stop by your place. Both Gloria and I are looking to add some pieces and I've heard you have a large selection."

"Ten Thousand square feet worth, and more in the warehouse. Should I be prepared to show you any specific period? Are you interested in paintings, or jewelry?"

"I think for this first trip; we just want to cruise the shop and get a feel for what you've got."

"Excellent. Any idea when you may arrive?"

"I have appointments downtown in the morning, maybe sometime after lunch."

"Excellent. I'll look for you then. It will be an honor having you two ladies in my shop."

"See you then, Mr. Rose."

"Call Gloria."

"Hello, Hannah, is that you?"

"Who else? Gloria, we're going shopping on Friday. There is a shop I need you to come to with me. It's very important."

"Well, if it's important to you, then we'll do it. Should I bring Harry?"

"No, but I want to bring Lizzie, and a gentleman who works for me. I have business at the Navy Yard in the late morning, so I'll pick you up around ten. I'll be done with business before noon, and we'll head to The White Dog for lunch, where we will meet Lizzie. We'll then go down to check out what our Mr. Rose has to offer. And then home."

"Sounds good. I'm bringing Rapper."

"And I'm bringing Dom. So, we'll both be in good shape. See you Tuesday, for swimming."

"Oh, I'm glad you're coming, Han. I've already talked to Holly about this, but the people from the IOC who Harry meets with on occasion want to meet Celeste and see her in action."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Harry and her teammates have been talking her up and these guys want to see what this eight-year-old can do."

"No kiddin'? You know she is also being tracked scholastically. They are talking to Holly about putting her on the Physicians Track in school."

"What's the physician's track?"

"It was something started by the National Healthcare System a few years ago, when the supply of doctors was the lowest ever in this country. Ninety percent of our doctors at that time were either first generation American or foreign born. And we had a twenty-five percent shortage. They would put as many resources into the best and brightest kids from a young age and try to encourage them to go into the practice of medicine, rather than some less lofty goal. And Celeste has really bought into it. She reads incessantly. She is taking Intro Chemistry and Biology classes. At eight, Hannah she is taking vital signs. You know that, 'cause you are teaching her how, and she's getting it."

"Yes, she is. She knows how to take vital signs at eight, and I've started to teach her first aid. I expect I can teach her a lot more, but I want someone to guide me. I don't want to fuck things up for her. She's so much smarter than me."

"You just keep doing what you're doing, Hannah Todd, and she will be fine."

"Well, I'm gonna keep on lovin' her, if that's what you mean."

"That's all she really needs. She's a sharp one. The rest she can figure out for herself."

-----------------------------------------------------------

On Tuesday, the kids had a regular school day and came home afterwards, but Celeste, who was picked up by Holly and crew, went right to Gloria's for swimming. I came separately from home, because if someone is talking Olympics with Celeste, I want to be a part of that conversation. Holly didn't know what to expect when they arrived at the Tuttlehill pool, but there was a man and two women, and she knew they were coming. Holly didn't know them formally, only that they were the people who talked to Harry about her Olympic aspirations. And today, they would do the same with Celeste. They would give her the same talking to they gave Harriet eight years ago, when she started on her path to the Olympics.

The two women took Celeste aside when they finished with Harriet, and asked her questions, and took her weight and measurements. All of them. Even her foot size and how broad her shoulders were. One woman did the work, the other wrote it down and did most of the asking.

While the women worked with Celeste, the man drew Holly away from her to talk to her separately. And where she was going, I was going. He was talking up all he had heard from Harriet and her teammates.

"Harry Tuttlehill and her teammates are crazy about this little swimmer who goes around kicking the asses of kids bigger and older than her in the pool. An eight-year-old who trains with a future Olympian. A child who loves the breaststroke, a division we haven't challenged since the early twenty-forties. I'm not saying it's so, but she could be our next great hope for a medal in the breaststroke. I guess today we'll see."

They watched as Celeste, along with Harry and Hilly and Kimmie, did their stretches and jumped in the pool and did their warm ups. When it was time, Harry called out, "Okay, ladies, one up and one back." All the girls got out of the pool, and lined up at the end ready to dive in. "Let's take this one easy, girls. Some of us are going to be doing a lot of swimming today, and some of it is going to be very competitive, so keep something in the tank for later. Let's take this one easy."

And she called out to go, and of course, Harry was the last into the pool and the first to make it to the wall, but the girls were moving nicely, with even strokes, concentrating on their form. Celeste was always beautiful, but in the pool, she is a masterpiece. A true work of art. And you could see that the Olympics people saw it too. There was a lot of head nodding, and not a lot of head shaking. And they were looking closely. Then the people called Harry and Celeste over.

"Kids, the man called out to Hilly and Kimmie. Why don't you take this time to do some swimming and splashing while I talk to these two young women."

He motioned them to follow him, and he sat on one of Gloria's side chairs, so his six-foot, six frame, wouldn't be so imposing to the girls.

"Ladies, right now I want to talk to Celeste, but I want you here, Harry, because I know how important you two are to each other. Is it okay if we have this conversation with Harry here, Celeste?"

"Harry is my hero, sir. Of course she can be here." And she took Harriet's hand and looked the man straight in the eyes, like 'waddaya got?'

"Celeste... Cee-Cee. I forgot you've already got a swimmer's name. I like it. I think I can see it up in lights. What do you think Ceece?"

"I'm not really the 'up in lights' kind of girl."

She did not just say that. Precocious little B-I-T.

"Celeste, I understand you're a breast stroker. Why the breast stroke?"

"I feel the most powerful when I breast stroke. I feel like a Dolphin, jumping out of the water and plunging back in, over and over. I feel like I can lift five hundred pounds. I can really get down the road, ya know."

"So I understand. But I don't want to start there today, Ceece, but be patient and we'll get there. Let me give you an outline of what I'm hoping for today and we'll see how much of it we can make happen. We're going to try a number of strokes and distances and see how you do. I want to start with a fifty-meter freestyle. I want you to really put everything into it, Ceece, like it's your only race of the day, and you really need to win. Understand?"

"Yes sir. I always need to win."

"That a girl. I'm not going to tell you what is coming after, because I want to see what you put into this one race. Are you with me?"

She nodded her head, and did her stretches and shakes and you could see as she approached the end of the pool. She jumped into the pool, just to get herself wet down, then she climbed out and shook off. Then she'd closed her eyes and just got inside herself.

Then 3-2-1-BANG. And she's off the platform and flying through the air, and then with hardly a splash, she's stroking arms and legs working together in harmony with great form. And she stroked and stroked. You could see from poolside the effort she was putting into it. She really was giving it her best effort. Herman walked along the side of the pool calling out encouragement, which was echoed by the peanut gallery. And when she hit the wall, the very tall man with the timer in his hands looked down at her and smiled. And she looked waaaay up at him and asked, "So, how did I do?"

"Forty-eight, seventy."

"Shit" Celeste said, loud enough for her mother to hear her.

"Celeste Bernstein. What is with that mouth?" Holly shrieked.

"Sorry, mommy. Sorry, sir."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with forty-eight seven."

"It's not my best."

"It's not?"

"My personal best recorded at a meet down in Unionville, was forty-seven, nine. Like a whole second. Eight years old and I'm slipping already."

"You're not slipping Celeste; you were just juiced up when you recorded that time."

"Juiced up?"

"Yeah. The girls are all around you, they did their stretches and their warm ups, and they're ready to go, the adrenaline is really pumping. Do you know what adrenaline is, Cee Cee?"

"Sure. I'm gonna be a doctor."

"I have no doubt about that. Alright, Celeste. I want you to rest up for fifteen minutes and then I'm gonna want you to do what you just did, but doing the breast stroke. Is that okay."

"It's better than okay. It's my signature stroke."

The things that come out of the mouth of the future Dr. Celeste Bernstein, just floor me every day. Not to be outdone. She comes out with another gem. "Do you think Harry can race with me to help me get my adrenaline pumping?"

"Well, Dr. Cee-Cee, I think that's a grand idea. There is certainly nothing in the rules that says you can't."

And so, it came to pass. Celeste lined up on the left and Harriet on the right. The deal was fifty meters, Celeste doing the Breast, and Harry doing the Back. As the man walked down to the far end of the pool, Harry looked over at her little friend and said, "I'm going for it, Ceece, so you better swim your ass off."

Celeste just looked at her and gave Harry her best game face, and turned to face the other end of the pool. Then the man counted down and the gun went off and the girls hit the pool. Everyone was yelling, "Go Cee-Cee, Go." Except for one lone crazy man running down the side of the pool yelling out, "Form, Cee-Cee, Form. Lift, Stroke. Form." Nobody got in his way as he made his way down the pool, though. He's a big 'un.

Of course, everyone knew Harriet was going to finish first. If she didn't, Celeste would be very disappointed in her.

Celeste looked up at the man. "Time?"

"A minute flat!" He called out, and Celeste put her arms up as the crowd cheered.

"Now that's my best time."

"It's a heck of a time, Celeste. I've never clocked a first time this low on the breast. So, tell me, Celeste Bernstein, do you want to be my star?"

"Star?"

"Yes, dear. If it's something you would like to do, I would like to put you on a training program. At first, it really won't take much more time than you are putting in at the pool now. But in time, you will find yourself having to put a lot of time in at the pool if you want to be an Olympian."

"Olympian. Like Olympics?"

"Well, first we've got to get you to rule the locals and the state. Then we shoot for nationals. If you put in the work and you really want it, I think you've got what it takes."

"To be an Olympic swimmer?"

"To be an Olympic Gold Medal Breast Stroker. At least in the one hundred. When you get just a bit older, we'll talk about the two hundred meters. But you will be swimming hundred-meter practice races to prepare you for the upcoming fifty-meter races you'll swim in your class. If we can beef you up a bit as you grow, we can consider the two hundred meter. Right now, take a break while I talk to your mom and I'll take your best time on the hundred meter free in about fifteen minutes."

He walked over to where Gloria, Holly and I were, and stuck out his hand to Holly.

"Miss Bernstein, my name is Chuck Miller, and I hold a Gold, a Silver and two Bronze medals in the men's breast stroke from the 2040 and '44 Olympics. Two in the one hundred and two in the two hundred. Since I retired as a swimmer, I've been working as a coach for U. S. A. Olympics and scouting and training young breast strokers. If she handles the program well, Cee-Cee will have a series of coaches, but, as long as they keep me around, I should be the one marching with her in the procession of countries in 2064."

Both Holly and I looked at him with our eyes, and mouths open.

"You have a very impressive daughter. Smart and beautiful, and a natural swimmer. A divine swimmer. When I look for a new protégé, I look for that 'porpoise' in them. If you've ever seen the beasts I call 'The Happy Swimmers,' you'll know what I mean. They see water and they just want to jump in. Sound like anyone you know?"

"You really think she has talent? This better not be some kind of a scam, because we get that kind of stuff all the time." Holly inquired.

"Please check my credentials, Miss Bernstein. Or ask Mrs. Tuttlehill."

"No, no. I don't doubt you even a bit. It's just that a lot is coming my way regarding Celeste and sometimes I feel the need to step back and try to get the view from ten thousand feet. I feel like Celeste needs her own personal manager and assistant at this point in her life, and it looks like I've been elected."

"Well then, I'd say she is a very lucky young lady, because you appear to be doing a spectacular job. How's school? She says she wants to be a doctor."

"I'm sure she never said that to you." Holly said.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Are you sure she didn't say she's going to be a doctor?"

"Actually, that's exactly what she said."

"That's my Celeste."

"Be proud. Be very proud."

"Every minute of every day."