Chapter 22

"Our love is still special, let's take our chance and fly away somewhere alone."

The three of us flew to the big island. June allowed me to fly the Cessna we had rented most of the way. From there, we took a cab and dropped June off at her apartment so she could say good-bye to Mely.

Debbie and I went to a nearby hotel.

An hour after we checked in, Mely called and asked us if we wanted to visit a nearby blues club. Debbie and I readily agreed, and the two girls picked us up.

At the club, I found myself in an interesting situation. During the months since Mary's pregnancy, I had mostly avoided alcohol. I had never been much of a drinker, but I occasionally found myself enjoying the fruity drinks that Debbie and Aimee favored. Even after Dawn was born, Mary didn't drink very much, not wanting to transfer any alcohol to Dawn via her breast milk. As a result, I had completely stopped drinking.

Now, I found myself in a club that made its profits from the serving of drinks. I knew that Debbie wasn't a heavy drinker, so I decided to just order the same things she did, pacing myself to her consumption. By the end of the evening, I found myself enjoying the music and the company of my three female companions.

Our flight was scheduled to leave around nine in the morning, and Mely drove us to the airport. At the check-in counter, I picked up the tickets that Aimee had reserved for us, and I was surprised when I saw that June and I would be sitting together, with Debbie across the aisle from us. I knew this was Aimee's doing; I think she wanted June and me to get closer to each other. Aimee wasn't always the most subtle person in the world.

June gave Mely a passionate kiss good-bye, and both girls disregarded any reactions from tourists that noticed them. I think June may have told her girl friend that we knew about their relationship and that it didn't matter to us. For all I knew, this could have been a test by Mely to ascertain whether it was the truth or not.

June and I made small talk in the airplane. She told me more about her Olympic tryouts, and how much she enjoyed working for us. I gave her as much of an unexpurgated version of the story about our family as I could within the lack of privacy the first class cabin afforded.

"You know, June, as a member of our family, you don't really need to be working for us," I pointed out.

June smiled. "I know, but I love driving. None of you ever really treated me as just a chauffeur or as just the help. You've given Mely and me wonderful places to live, and when we travel, our accommodations are first rate. I get to fly occasionally, and I have a lot of spare time to do whatever I want. Since Dawn was born, I've spent most of my time living in the cottage on your property and you all never hesitated treating me as a member of the family."

I smiled. "We just made it official, the other day. I'm glad you enjoy doing what you do and being with us."

"Aimee told me that I could have the Lime room upstairs, but I told her I like the relative privacy of the cottage."

I was a bit surprised at this news. The Lime room was supposed to be my changing room, although I only slept in it about once a month, usually with Debbie, who seemed to have a desire never to sleep in the same room two days in a row.

I was already working with Debbie on an idea of splitting up the larger rooms into slightly smaller bedrooms to accommodate our growing family, now that Dawn and June were members. The women were already working out new color schemes for the new rooms. Since it was obvious that Debbie and perhaps Aimee might have one or more children, we wanted each child to be able to have their own room. We planned a set of smaller rooms with shared bathrooms for use as children's rooms. The main house was more than big enough to house a large family, although if we had too many children, we might attract the unwanted attention of family services.

June turned a bit more serious. "Jim, Aimee told me why your wedding ceremony in San Francisco was secret. Mely and I hadn't understood completely at the time, and even now, I haven't told her, since I now understand about the family. You know that Mely is more than just a coworker, don't you?"

"Yes," I said, knowing that June and Mely were lovers.

"I was pretty sure you knew that. You don't judge us; none of you do."

"We don't judge you because it's not our place," I explained. "Your relationships are yours personally, and don't concern me unless I am personally involved, and that would be by your own choice. I never asked about or even cared what you did on your last night in Makena, nor what you did last night with Mely."

June frowned. "It's not that I don't like you, Jim..."

"I understand," I said, calmly. "Actually, I know you like me, and probably even more than that. I have no problem with that. Let's take it slow. Since Aimee told you that the four of us consider ourselves, maybe not married, but totally committed to one another, you are now part of that. That commitment does not require you to be a bed partner to any of us, but it allows you to do so, but only if you and your desired partner or partners agree."

June blushed. "Aimee is so... exotic..." June breathed.

"She's like Mely?"

June's blush deepened. "No. Mely is different. We just connected one of the times that Debbie had us staying in a hotel room, and we've been casual lovers ever since. Mely isn't like me; she likes boys, too. She had a fiance a while back. Now that I'm living in Maui, Mely occasionally finds other partners, male and female, but she says that she never brings them to the condo out of respect for me. I, on the other hand, have been using my exercises and my fingers to keep me busy."

"I've seen you sparring with Mary," I said, ignoring June's comment about her fingers. "I've only seen a mark on you that first time. You must be getting better."

"Mary is teaching me to throw knives."

"Really?" I hadn't been aware of the specifics of June's weapons training except when I occasionally tagged along to the shooting range with Mary and June, mostly just to ensure that I could still shoot pistols accurately enough.

"Yes. We have a target range behind the cottage."

"I'm glad you didn't carry any knives in your carry-on bags. It would have been embarrassing getting through the metal detector."

"No, but I have a couple of nice throwing knives in my checked baggage."

I shuddered. Mary was seriously turning June into a killer. I didn't think this was a good idea, but apparently, my thoughts on the matter weren't solicited by the people that made the decisions.

Actually, there was a part of me that liked the idea of June--and possible even Debbie and Aimee--learning basic weapons usage. Aimee seemed to have an idea that either I or the family would need a bodyguard, and I have never known any of Aimee's premonitions to be wrong. Even if we never had to use June's training, there was little harm in her learning. If we ever really needed it, it would be worth having it. The problem, of course, was the deadly seriousness that Mary had in these matters.

After arriving at JFK airport in New York, we found that the airline had misplaced one of my bags. I sighed, but figured that it could be worse; it could have been one of Debbie's bags. As a result, I had a lot of shirts--quite a few Hawaiian ones, which would be out of place in New York in the winter--and no pants aside from the slacks I was wearing. Debbie gave the airline the address of Malen Associates so they could deliver my bag, when and if it would ever be found.

Once we arrived at the brownstone, Debbie's melancholy was palpable.

"This place is spooky," June whispered to me.

I would have to explain to June about Debbie's gift some other time. Instead, I simply reassured her. "It's all right. This was where Debbie's father lived."

The place was neater than I had expected. It appeared that Charles Penet had kept up the housekeeping for the place, even though James Malen was no longer using it.

Pictures of Debbie were all over the house, including one that looked pretty recent. She was posing with a young man, whose identity I didn't know.

There weren't any pictures of James Malen to be found. I had wished that I could see one to see if the image I had of him from my dreams matched. I knew that I could have satisfied my curiosity about how he looked by simply rooting around in Debbie's mind, but I had stopped doing that as a matter of course, once I realized that Debbie wasn't able to do the same to me.

There were four bedrooms, and Debbie took one of the smaller ones. The room that Debbie picked had a feminine feel to it, and I realized that this might have been Debbie's own room at some point in her life.

June, on the other hand, took another bedroom.

I didn't know how Debbie would feel if I took her father's master bedroom, so I took the other bedroom, which didn't have much in it other than a desk, a small dresser, and a queen sized bed.

"The guest room suits you," Debbie said in the doorway as I put my suitcase down.

"I didn't think you'd want me to use your father's room."

"It's difficult, Jim."

"I understand."

Debbie left me to do my unpacking alone.

I had completed that chore and was sitting on the bed when I heard a scream from Debbie. I rushed out of the room and found Debbie's face, white as a ghost, with a sheet of paper in her hand.

"What is it?" June asked, breathlessly, having arrived about ten seconds before I got there. June had a hunting knife in her hand at the ready.

"It's a letter addressed to me," Debbie said. "My father wrote it!"

"What does it say?" June asked.

I had a feeling about its contents. After all, Aimee had warned the man that the flight he was about to take was doomed.

Dear Debbie,

If you are reading this letter, then I am probably no longer walking this earth. I have few regrets, though. I have lived a gifted life. My one regret is that my work has kept the two of us apart.

Even if you don't know it, I have been keeping track of you, my dear. You have always been one of the most important things in my life, and I must say you have done your father proud. If it is possible in the afterlife, I will continue to watch over you. Even so, I would suggest you engage the services of a very gifted individual, a Miss Aimee Porter, the lovely Asian [sic] associate who works for Malen Associates. I have also enclosed a business card for your Uncle William, who is an excellent investigator, who can locate her for you, if she no longer works for Malen Associates or your Uncle Charles. You will find Aimee to be a very bright and special individual, and I am sure that the two of you will become fast friends.

There are hundreds of things that I would love to tell you, but I just don't have enough time to do this, but I must say that you are a very special and important person, and not only to me.

I have left everything that I own to you, which is a pretty big fortune. You should keep Malen Associates as well, as a company to manage your money. Uncle Charles has indicated that he'd be happy to manage your holdings so that you will never need to worry about money again.

There are a couple of people that I want you to meet. One of them lives in my apartment complex in San Diego. Her name is Mary Cadley, and she is staying in apartment three. She can introduce you to a remarkable young man. Do not misjudge these two people. Their lives may seem tragic, but I know that there will be a happy ending, and you can be a wonderful part of it.

Always remember that there will be many people to look over you and ensure your happiness for the rest of your life. Aimee, and Uncle Charles, and even Uncle William are only three of them. Remember me with affection and also remember that I have always loved you and wanted the best for you in life.

Finally, this is the moment that I must say good-bye to you. It has been a wonderful life that has allowed me to see all the beautiful things I have seen. Your mother and you were the most wonderful people that I could ever dream of knowing. I know you are probably saddened by my passing, but I promise you that you will find happiness. Keep your heart open.

Your loving father,

James

If there was ever any doubt that Debbie was an emotional transmitter, being anywhere near that apartment would have convinced the most skeptical observer.

June looked at me questioningly.

I didn't answer June, but moved over to Debbie and hugged her tightly. I entered Debbie's mind, just to send waves of love to her.

We were embracing for a minute or so, when I opened my eyes, and indicated to June to join us. She did so, hesitatingly, and she also hugged Debbie.

Many minutes passed, and eventually I felt Debbie's sadness start to melt away.

Later on, in my room, June confronted me.

"What was all that about?" June demanded.

"The letter in the den?"

"That and those weird feelings I keep getting from this place."

"Those feelings aren't from this place," I answered. "Well, not directly at least."

June looked confused, and waited for me to continue.

"Remember when Aimee showed you your gift?"

June nodded. "You mean seeing the box in the kitchen when I was blindfolded?"

"Yes," I said. "Debbie has a similar gift. When she feels a strong emotion, other people feel it. It's sort of the opposite of ESP, since it's not a perception on her part, but on other people's part. Living with Debbie, I've become very sensitive to it. I told you about Debbie and her father on the plane, right?"

"Yes. Aimee also told me that story before she met you, although she wasn't as detailed."

"Debbie's trip right now is for her to discover her father. Her father seems to have known she would come here, and he left her that letter."

"According to that letter, Mary must have known Debbie's father. Aimee never told me that."

"Actually, it's the other way around. Debbie's father knew of Mary," I explained. "Mary apparently met Debbie by coincidence when Debbie and Aimee were touring her father's California properties. I think Mary knew that Debbie was her landlord, and only talked with her to be reassured that Mary's rent wouldn't increase. Debbie's father gave Mary a very good price on her rent."

"How is Mary's life tragic?"

"I know you know the story about how Mary and I met."

"Oh!" June said, finally putting the pieces together. "But why would Debbie think Mary's life was tragic? You came out of your coma, after all."

"I think I was still in a coma when James Malen died. He didn't know that when Debbie met me, I would have awakened from my coma, so he thought that Mary would still be visiting me in the hospital every day. As a matter of fact, a few days after Mary and Debbie met, Debbie met me, and we all became involved with each other, adding Aimee a little bit later."

"How did James Malen know all this?"

"Aimee warned James Malen that his flight was doomed. I think he wrote this letter to tell Debbie where her future was. I think he may have had his own gift."

"This is very weird."

I laughed. "Tell me about it."

Debbie appeared in the doorway. "What's up, you two?"

"I was explaining some things to June."

"Isn't it spooky that Dad told me to visit Mary?"

"I think there were a lot of circumstances that were pushing all of us together," I said. "Think about it. Despite Aimee warning him about his flight, he took it anyway. Aimee told me a story about her aunt, which she warned against walking to the store. On the way, her aunt saw a child in the street about to be hit by a car, and ran out and saved the boy, but got hit herself and died. Aimee said that her aunt was teaching her a lesson that day, about finding the good in the bad."

"What does Aimee's aunt have to do with my father?" Debbie asked.

"Aimee says to think of the good that happened from the bad event. After your father died, you met Aimee, and through Aimee, you met June. Somehow, you then managed to meet Mary and me, but even if that hadn't happened then, you would have eventually read your father's letter and met Mary anyway. Your father's death, as tragic as it was, seems to be the event that allowed all that to happen."

"As much as I love all of you, I would give it all up to have my father back," Debbie said, softly.

"I know, my little Transmitter," I said, hugging her tightly. "If I could bring your father back, I would do so in a New York minute. It's not possible, though. Think about what your father wrote. 'There will be many people to look over you and ensure your happiness for the rest of your life.' I make you this solemn promise, Debbie: I will do everything I humanly can to live up to your father's words. You know as well as I do that he wanted us to meet and to be together. All five of us... six, if you count Dawn."

Debbie thought a moment. "I realized that he knew about Mary from what Mr. Voder said to us that day. I didn't know that Daddy had really intended that this all happen."

"I feel honored to have been one of the people he chose for you."

Debbie sniffed. "It sounds like Daddy was planning my entire life."

"No," I said. "Look at it this way: you found Mary and me on your own. Remember what I told you about when I first met Mary? I told her that our getting together was in the stars. I think it's something like fate. Maybe if your father didn't die, we might still have met, or maybe not. Who knows?"

Debbie shook her head. "I've heard Aimee talk that way. I keep telling her that if free will exists, then predestination can't exist."

I laughed. "That sounds like a college philosophy course!"

"Maybe," Debbie allowed. "I'm not so sure, now."

"Keep your mind open, my special Transmitter."

June said, "Jim told me why he calls you a Transmitter, Debbie. This is all very new to me, and very strange. I also don't know what to believe."

Debbie hugged June. "Thank you, June. Sometimes, with Mary, Jim, and Aimee freely accepting this stuff, I feel left out."

"I don't freely accept it, Debbie," I said. "However, if you've taken Philosophy, then you're familiar with the principle of Occam's Razor. So far, everything points to Aimee's interpretations."

"With one exception," June said.

"What's that?" I asked, surprised.

"The common denominator is Aimee," June explained. "She knew Debbie's father. She may have known about Mary and Jim, if Debbie's father did. What if Debbie's father told Aimee to take her to San Diego?"

"No," Debbie said. "At that point in time, Aimee was very reserved. Aimee had originally planned to move back to Hawaii after my dad died. She was feeling homesick, so I told her that I'd build up the place in Maui if she went with me on a tour of my father's properties throughout the country. Then we'd visit Maui, I'd give her the property, and she'd help me find another assistant. We spent about eight months in Sacramento, San Francisco, San Jose, and then Los Angeles, before we got to San Diego. Aimee wasn't even staying with me in San Diego. She insisted that the only apartment that was available in the complex was too small for both of us, so she stayed at a Days Inn a few blocks away."

"I remember," June said. "Mely and I were at that hotel for a day before we went back to Los Angeles."

Debbie's eyes went misty. "I was in that apartment, when I could feel the two of them making love. I mean Mary and Jim. I could actually feel them. Something in my heart told me that I needed to be a part of it, and I used my pass-key to come into their apartment..."

I nodded. "I remember that, too. It was like I knew what was happening, but at the same time, it was like it wasn't me. One moment, I was myself, the next moment, I was Mary, and another moment, I was Debbie."

"Aimee thought I fell in love with Jim the moment I met."

"Didn't you?" I asked, confused.

"No," Debbie answered. "I fell in love with Mary."

June's jaw dropped. "You fell in love with Mary?"

This was interesting to me. The infallible Aimee, wrong?

"Yes," Debbie admitted. "Mary was in love with him... I mean, I knew that Jim was her only reason for living. I think she still feels that same way, although she seems even more fixated on Dawn, now. Have you see the way she hovers over Dawn? Anyway, I was confused at the time, until something inside me told me that the only way I could have Mary was to love Jim. It went against everything I ever believed, a girl loving a girl, and being in a multiple partner relationship. I knew, somehow, that Mary would know if my love for Jim wasn't true. Aimee and I discussed it one night, and then it became clearer to me. Aimee wanted desperately to be a part of what we all had, but Jim said 'no.'"

"Wow!" I said, simply amazed. "I wish I had known all this at the time. I was very confused myself."

"It really took a while for everything to work out," Debbie said. "Aimee, I think, was the first to feel comfortable, and she talked with all of us, and things started to fall into place."

June looked unconvinced. "So, Aimee could still be the common denominator."

I didn't know how to answer that.

I slept with Debbie in her room that night. Our lovemaking was passionate and explosive, Debbie reaching orgasm after orgasm before I finally achieved my own release.

We spent the rest of the night simply holding each other.

Debbie woke me up, kissing me profusely.

"What's up, Miss Radio?" I asked.

"Thank you for last night," Debbie sighed, smiling.

"You never have to thank me for making love to you," I said. "I'm willing to make love to you until my body gives out."

"No," Debbie said. "I really needed last night. It was the first moment that I was in this apartment that I wasn't feeling sadness. I was ecstatic, and I loved it!"

"I'm glad I was able to help out," I grinned.

"You explained yesterday that Daddy's death allowed us to get together. At first, I felt that it was a bad trade and I hadn't been consulted. Last night reminded me what our relationship really is. I've always loved Mary, but you make love to me freely and completely. I feel love radiating out of you the way you say I that I'm a transmitter, but I know with you, it's just from you to me. When you kiss me, you put your entire being into it. I told you yesterday that I actually fell in love with Mary, and even so, when we make love, it is like I am the only person as far as you are concerned. Do you know what I mean?"

I shook my head. I was confused.

Debbie sighed. "When I was traveling in California before I met you, I slept around. I know that AIDS is dangerous, but I didn't give a fuck. My daddy died and I didn't care what I did with my life. I must have fucked dozens of guys."

"I know, you've told me this before..."

"Let me finish," Debbie said. "Then I met the two of you. You were making love to Mary, and I envied her the way she felt. I felt you penetrating into her, how Mary was willing to give you everything, and I also felt your feelings and emotions. They were intense! And then, suddenly, somehow, I was part of it, and I felt the same intensity from you, and Mary. I envied Mary's consuming passion, and for some reason, I had to have Mary. Despite the intensity that I felt from you, I have to admit that it scared the hell out of me. I decided that it was Mary I loved, instead. She seemed to feel the same way, and we made love in the bathroom, and then a few times when you weren't around. She was as intense as she had been with you. Mary, however, would never leave you. I could feel that. I decided to play you along, since I felt that having a good fuck around wasn't a bad side benefit, but I realized that Mary would be able to tell if I was just going through the motions. So, I went out of my way to make you as happy as I could, and in doing so, I found that I really loved you."

I interrupted Debbie with a kiss.

Debbie kissed me back, but still had to get the rest of her confession off her chest. "You've let me, as well as Mary and Aimee, have our own desires. If I wanted to sleep with Mary, you'd simply sleep with Aimee. I've never met somebody so understanding--maybe Aimee, but never a guy!"

"Debbie, that's not..."

Debbie wouldn't be interrupted. "That day when Aimee got mad at you, I thought we were doomed. I was sure that Aimee would leave, and Mary would be angry at me and hate me. Aimee, however, spent nearly a dozen hours making love with me then. I mean, she went out of her way to get me to the point where it was difficult to walk. I don't know if she ever had been alone with a woman before, but she made it the most exquisite time of my life. I actually forgot about Mary and you at one point. And you know what? Neither Aimee or I spoke a word to each other during the entire time!"

Debbie paused, and I waited for her to continue.

Finally, Debbie said, "Aimee called you on the phone, and to my surprise, she seemed pissed at you even more--it was amazing! Despite that, we still met you later, and I knew from the moment that I saw you... I actually felt the love you felt for Mary, for Aimee, and most of all, for me. You gave Aimee that special corsage, and I thought, 'What a wonderful guy!' Aimee's entire attitude changed. Despite the fact that I had more orgasms than I ever had that day with Aimee, we all slept together that night, and it was like everything changed, but it also didn't change. We made love together, and it was no longer important who I was touching, or who was touching me. I felt we had become more than a foursome... into a family."

I smiled. "I felt the same way that night."

"Last night, you reminded me how much I have invested in our family. There was nobody else in our bed except the two of us, and when I needed you to be assertive, you did so. When I wanted you to be softer, you just held me. Then it hit me: We no longer 'perform sex, ' Jim; We no longer 'make love.' I used to think so, but it's more than that. It's much more simple: We love. When I'm with you, we just love! That's it, plain and simple."

I thought about Debbie's words for a long while. Finally, a light bulb went on over my head. "You know, I think it's one thing that William or your father never suspected. Empaths, by definition, feel emotions. How else would an Empath make love, if not with raw emotion? I think that you feel that, Debbie. When I'm with you in bed, I let you feel my love and my ecstasy, and you do the same to me. It's a whole new concept. I like your term: We love."

Debbie sighed. "Tonight, you will have to teach June."

I shook my head vigorously. "I will do no such thing, Debbie! June is a virgin, and wants to remain so until she dies. I know this for a fact."

Debbie shook her head. "I just spent a half hour explaining about how making love is more than just the physical act of sex. There's ecstasy, but I feel that ecstasy with Aimee and Mary as well as with you. Neither one of them has your male equipment, Jim!"

"Oh," I said, finally understanding. I thought about what Debbie had just discovered. I had known some of this, but the way she put it into words made perfect sense to me.

Finally, I smiled at Debbie. "Tonight, the two of us will teach June."

"We'll use the master bedroom," Debbie said. "Last night, you exorcised the sadness from this place."

I smiled and gave Debbie a long kiss. I could feel her radiate her pleasure, and I knew that Debbie was doing this on purpose. Sure enough, it was enough to bring June the voyeur to the doorway. I felt June's presence, and without opening my eyes, I pulled away from Debbie's lips for a moment to say, "Join us in a kiss, sister."

I said that using a firm commanding tone, just as Aimee had used with June on Christmas day. From June's response that day, I knew that she was a submissive deep down, even more so than Aimee.

June kissed me on the cheek. About two minutes later, I turned from Debbie to kiss June full on the lips, penetrating her lips with my tongue. I said nothing, but my kiss promised everything, and June moaned deeply as she started feeling the strong wave of emotions.

Debbie rolled out of the bed to allow June and I better access to each other.

I opened my eyes and saw June's eyes were already open. I broke the kiss and saw the pleading in her eyes. She was asking for everything--almost. Did I tell you that her left eye is green and the right one brown? June was an amazing person on a whole bunch of levels.

I blinked, and June nodded in response.

Having gained permission, I kissed June again, and this time I entered her mind. She was currently thinking of her past lovers, her desires, and her confused emotions about me. I saw what I had earlier expected: she was a lesbian. She was also a virgin, by the definition that no male had ever penetrated her. She mostly avoided the female toys that her occasional partners sometimes used. I also saw promise as well. June didn't hate men, she just didn't associate the gender with sexual gratification, mostly based on her first experiences as an adolescent. I could "fix" that, but who am I to play God? June's sexuality was part of what made June her own person. It was not within me to turn a tiger into a vegetarian just because I wanted it that way. Inside her mind, I promised her that I would not be the one to ever take her virginity.