Section 17

Thanks to the outrageous buffet, the teens were not up for dinner, yet. They continued to lounge in the living room, reviewing the day, planning breakfast, and just talking among themselves.

“This is the first Monday in forever when we have nothing more important to do than to be gracious hostesses at breakfast.” Zina said. “Maybe I should have checked the pantry before I opened my mouth.”

“Eighteen of us, and ten more directly invited, namely the three linebackers, two ROTCs and their dates. So we’re up to twenty-eight.” Sara found a notepad, “Don’t look at me like that. We’re caterers, it’s what we do.”

Sally took a turn. “We can expect others. More footballers, plus anyone who was with the security detail they assembled, and their significant others, might tag along.”

“Not so much for breakfast, but for a gathering of comrades-in-arms, victors so to speak.” Phil mused, “I can understand that totally. No one among us knows the whole story, so maybe a friendly debriefing is in order.”

“Even our frige is not stocked for hundreds. I can make a run to the market in the Volvo wagon early enough to handle supplies.” Nancy offered. “Bread, eggs, bacon, juices, fruit and anything we can fix quickly are on the menu I would choose.”

“Good idea. We can make a huge pot of cheese grits inside and do some sausages and bacon before hand.” Sara agreed. “The eggs we can do on the outside gas grill to order, or scrambled in batches as needed. Butter, jams and condiments on a picnic table near the grill where folks can make their own toast.”

“Coffee. Lots of coffee.” April leaned out to make sure it got on Sara’s list.

Sally nodded. “Biscuits would be good, but they take too long to cook if we run out. We should stick to toast. Apples, oranges, strawberries if they look fresh, bananas and kiwis if they are available.”

“Sounds great. Limit the leftovers, but have more than enough. Not that cold bacon is a problem. I see BLTs in our future.” May smiled. “Nature’s perfect sandwich.”

“Make a list. I’ll bail out around 8:00 and be back by 9:00. If someone will help me shop and schlep it back, you two can stay here to get the prep work started.”

Marcie raised her hand. “Shopping? I’m in. We’ll fill the Volvo to the roof.”

“We have enough plates and stuff to go around?” Melody wondered. “A bazillion for breakfast is a lot of forkin’ spoons.”

“Marcie, try to buy some heavy-ish plastic plates, bowls and utensils that will survive the dishwasher. Plastic cleans as good as glass. We can use them again around the house once or twice before they go to the recycler.” Phil suggested. “I don’t think we can serve that many with what we have on hand.”

Eighteen voices worked through the details of the next day, knowing that most plans blow up in the face of reality. Sally told them caterers were used to plans getting skewed, but fixing blown up menus was easy compared to the crap the family had handled recently. “I won’t need to have snipers watching my back when flipping the extra omelets. We can live with that kind of bother.”

Monday, for the first lazy day of summer vacation, was going to start with a rush. The lazy part could have to wait until the parents departed. Soon enough and sooner than they hoped, the adrenaline ran low. Showers were taken, and then sleep did the taking.

Phil woke up strangely energized around 6 or so, put on a jock, some gym shorts and shoes, deciding to do a little run before the others began to stir. He wanted to return to his training and conditioning regimen before the new classes at the dojo. He had considered giving up the job, but it was too sweet an opportunity to face a variety of opponents with different skill levels to pass up.

Thirty minutes and five miles later, he ran past the art department. It reminded him to call Dr. Chamberlain after noon about the instruments. The performance costumes, with assorted lethal accessories, were an immediate concern. The building was locked, so he would have to call Amy when he got home to arrange a pick up, ASAP, if the parents hadn’t already collected the clothes.

At home, he called Amy to be told Carole and Carmine loaded the uniforms out last night before they left the reception. “You will have to call them, Phil. They stayed pretty late and spent a lot of time with me and the three other professors spending time at your house. How much do your mothers know and what will they think?”

“Some will know more than they have been told. And they will think nothing of it.” Phil answered. “The Dads will not give it another thought. The Moms will probably invite you to lunch for a gab-and-giggle fest. They are way too interested in things Moms have no business knowing about their kids.” He laughed at her gasp, heard clearly over the phone. “They are worse than the KGB. You might as well spill the beans and save yourselves the thumbscrews and truth serum. Carmine Blue Bear Singer is almost as persistent as my Mom, who is like a badger on speed when she wants to get to a secret. Do not be shocked to find your own mothers at the table, too. They probably are old sorority sisters or co-conspirators or worse.”

“You think they know our mothers?”

“Amy Zander, the thirteen of them know everybody. Trust me, if you are involved in any of their daughters’ lives, or mine, they know your parents. I’ll try to explain it as best as I can later, but it will not be a problem, ever.” He invited the four of them to dinner at his house at 6:00 PM. “We have a last hurrah breakfast with some of our friends this morning. The folks are coming by in the early afternoon before flying out. Jim and Fred will bring the band equipment before 1:00 and we have to arrange a furniture delivery, too.”

“I’ll talk to Dana, Lanie and Rachael. Dinner sounds good.”

The girls were drifting in and out of the living room. April had a pot of coffee ready and was brewing the second. “Want a cup?”

“Not right now, sweetie, I want to work out in the yard for a while. I’ve been a little slack and need to keep up my edge.” He went to the exercise room to get his practice swords, exiting to the backyard.

Still loose and flexible because of the run, he began his katas, starting from the simplest. Those he felt to be less than perfect were repeated until he was satisfied. Phil was so deep into his ‘zone’ he didn’t notice SuLing and the six twins watching him dance with the forms.

“This is really good.” The little drummer commented. “Sometimes, he doesn’t touch the ground. You can hear the air part in front of the weapon.”

“He won’t mind if we join in. Brother will make room and whirl around us.” April said. “Just be sure he sees us first.” They dressed in shorts and tank tops, collected more practice swords and gathered where he would notice.

Phil smiled, bowed to the seven girls. “When you’re warm and centered, try to touch me.” The game was on from there. The eight of them were so involved they had no sense of time. At some point, Sherry joined in for a while, but eased out when she tired. Willy asked why.

“This is many steps above anything I’ve ever seen. You do not want to be less than the best if you want to play with these guys. You will get hurt.” She paused. “Hear the wooden katanas when they clash? How would that feel on your head or leg if they really wanted to take you down?’

“Crapola. You would be down and stay down!” Willy watched closer. “Aside from Phil who looks invincible, SuLing is the scariest. You can’t see her move.”

Nancy and Marcie made the market run unnoticed. Zina and Emily started the food prep without Sara and Sally. The others stacked the plates and cups, cooked the bacon and did the chores in preparation for the breakfast crowd.

Said crowd arrived early, offering to help cook. DeMarcus and Marcia, Nathan and Theresa, Jackson and Brenda, Reggie and Ronni, Tran and Linh (Gentle Spirit) with her sister, Lan (Orchid), plus five other couples the girls did not know, but who were teammates of the football players. Twenty-one for breakfast, plus the eighteen of them. Doable.

The visitors pitched in immediately. DeMarcus and Jax turned out to be grill wizards, commandeering some aprons, grabbing the skillets and spatulas. Tran suspected the effort was motivated as much by the spirit of helping as it was by the view of the kata dance on the lawn. The Montagnard and his dates did not attempt to hide their fascination, staring in awe at the eight people locked in imaginary lethal combat.

“I thought we were good.” Lan said without conceit, “But I feel like a beginner here. Remind me not to piss them off. Either of those two redheads could take all three of us and even they can’t touch the little one.”

“They’re all little. You mean the one with black hair?” Tran asked as the teens reformed into different groups and continued the practice. At one point all of the girls went after Phil, seven on one. The smile never left his face as he tapped them out one at a time. They stepped away when they felt the touch of his blade, knowing it would have been a fatal blow if delivered at full power. Long arms help when facing a team of determined supersonic mini-ninjas.

His sisters and the drummer were the last girls whirling until he eliminated the twins in a double attack, breaking their wooden swords in the process. Phil and SuLing went at it full speed for perhaps five more minutes, giving a master’s clinic in mixed martial arts, switching from one discipline to another at random, but never gaining an advantage.

Finally, Phil seemed to disappear and reappear behind SuLing and smacked her butt with the flat side of the blade. “Ouch, you meanie. That smarts. I demand you kiss it and make it better.” Her dramatic pout fooled no one. “How the hell did you do that? You were there, then you weren’t and suddenly I’m being spanked like a little girl.”

That broke the tension in their audience. Phil laughed. “I paid attention in class. Sensei says that there is no trying. There is only doing or not doing. Your butt needed my attention. So I imagined being behind you and either I teleported or my body went into nitro overdrive. It was too cute to ignore. And you are little.”

The six twins thought that was too funny. Bonnie looked away from the others, becoming aware of the other people. “Geez Louieez! We have company!”

“Sara! We have to start cooking before these folks starve to death. I’m so sorry, guys. We got distracted.”

“Hey. It’s all good. We got it under control.” DeMarcus said. “That was a hell of a show out there. Swenson, you’ve been holding back at the dojo. You should open your own school.”

“Not a chance. Sensei does a fine job. But If I did, I would have to pound on you guys all day. Way too much work for a mere computer geek like me.”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to work up a sweat on me.” Tran grinned. “Damn, that was good. Why don’t you compete?”

“There is no point to it. I only have to protect my friends and me. Our skills, if that is what you want to call them, are tools, not a public entertainment novelty nor are they an excuse for vanity, a reason to keep score.”

“What he said. It is natural for people to see where they stand compared to others. We don’t disrespect that at all. All we want is to be better than we were the day before, and better than the person trying to hurt us. Rating counts for nothing in the real world. He or she doesn’t care how many stripes you have on some color of belt. We kind of know where we stand. As long as we stand and they don’t is all that matters.” May said.

“Now we need a shower. There is some serious butt kissing due. That ain’t for public consumption, neither.” Sara squealed. “Let me through or I will have to get medieval on your pitiful selves.”

“Start without us.” SuLing advised. “This could take a while. My fanny still stings.”

The eight ran for the house before the ice pelting started. “You heard the lady. Fill some plates. This food isn’t going to stay warm long!” Marcie shouted, glad she had video recorded the exhibition.

The guests put a serious dent in the groceries. Emily and Karen cranking out bacon and sausage links, Zina and Melody scrambling eggs by the dozen, with Willy and Joanne doing the honors on the pile of fresh fruit, together managed to stay ahead of the crowd.

Phil and the mini-ninjas made their grand appearance to the hoots and whistles of their friends. Connie stepped forward, announcing. “Thanks to the repeated tender application of his magical cure, the tender fanny of our innocent victim has been saved. She will fight again.”

“Even though it was his not so tender application that caused the problem.” Bonnie said. “But all’s well that has such a swell end.” SuLing wiggled her tush in response, despite her blushing cheeks.

The cooks made a final pass at the platters, supplying enough food for the eight latecomers to load up and have enough for the cooks, too. Reggie stood to get everyone’s attention. “I know we had planned to catch each other up on our various participation in the recent unpleasantness. I say only that is was a success, no one got hurt that didn’t richly deserve it, we saved everyone savable when the tornado hit, the show was great, legendary, and the cooks deserve a round of applause, even DeMarcus.” There was a round of cheers. “But I vote that we turn the page and not spoil this great morning with thoughts of what might have been. Thanks to the people here, it was an exciting and happy end to a long year. As Jackson’s daddy loves to say, ‘Laissez les bons temps rouler!’”

“Seconded. All in favor say ‘aye’. All opposed can bite my ass.” Nat shouted. The motion passed easily. Phil and the girls were pleased. A perfect moment in a perfect morning.

Ronni suggested that with such good judgment, Reggie was clearly officer material. Sherry countered. “ROTC makes him a butterbar, but he’s too smart to be an officer. Most I served under had no common sense. The sandbox is not a classroom at the Point. People die while they are learning that little fact. He’ll have to hang with the non-coms to get real experience.”

“Sherry, the best advice I ever got was from Manny at the surplus store. He saw my shiny new uniform and pulled my green ass aside. ‘Listen up, son. When they put you in a no-stupid zone, get your meanest, toughest sergeant alone. Tell him it’s not your fault they put you in charge, but they did so live with it. Your only command is that the sergeant give good advice, help keep everyone alive and complete the mission if it ain’t suicidal. Heroes don’t live very long, especially the ones who want to be heroes. You promise to listen ‘cause the sarge has forgotten more than you know. You have to give the command; he has to keep you from being stupid. Let him. Every one gets home.’”

“The Gunny is wise.” Tran declared. “Experience is something you get after you need it. Learn from those who survived and learned the lessons well.”

“We hear and heed the wise words from our resident Zen Philosopher. Captain Obvious.” Linh giggled. “But pay attention to Mr. Markowitz.”

“Careful, ladies. We are very close to getting serious.” Jax reminded them. “Serious has been forbidden by popular vote. Maybe we should go for a swim?”

DeMarcus cut the discussion right there. “You did not bring a suit and no one wants to see you skinny dip. My mother always said we should wait thirty minutes after eating before going into the water. I saw what you packed into your face.” He laughed. “You can’t swim for a week.”

They continued the back and forth until Jim, Fred and Bobby showed up with the equipment. When quizzed, Dr. Chamberlain said they had to pick up some flats for the set building shop at 2:00 and needed the truck. “We were there, you were here, so we took a shot and came over early.” Loading in was a snap with so many hands. The girls and idle boys cleaned the detritus from the poolside, bagged the trash, stowed the uncooked food and generally policed the area.

The morning guests drifted home in small groups as the parents drifted in before heading out for their respective hometowns. As soon as all the breakfasters departed, the parents gave the girls, those not aware of the centuries old connections and associations at least, a semi-apologetic explanation.

The Swenson and Singer kids always knew most of the story if not the complexity of the genetic relationships. Those struggling with scholarships and finances, such as Marcie and Karen discovered that the parents could have stepped in at any time, but wanted to see if the daughters had what it takes to take a seat at the Clan’s table. All passed.

Willy knew her folks were well off and well connected, but had no idea how well and to whom. She was simply driven to make her mark, solo. No one ever doubted she would rise to the top, but they always wondered to which top she would rise.

Melody discovered her parents owned the pharmacy where she worked, and many others in different cities. The Elliotts, Wilsons and Pattersons would have picked them up if they had fallen, but failure would have placed them into the second tier with Ian.

The story was the same, more or less, with Emily, Polly, Joanne and Nancy’s families. The Moms strongly suspected the submissive streaks, but waited to see how their kids handled it and into whose hands they would fall. Phil was the perfect choice to let them blossom, yet satisfy the need for gentle control.

Zina’s success was never in doubt. She was too smart and too self aware to go anywhere but to the top of the upper tier.

The daughters found out the oldest known family interactions occurred a thousand years ago among the Blue Bears, Sorensons, Champions and Swensons in northeast Canada when the Vikings discovered Greenland and Nova Scotia/Labrador. Future generations migrated south and west where they met and mixed DNA with the Cherokees and Raleigh’s missing English colonists.

Family ancestors were among the Lost Colonists at Roanoke Island. They were not so much lost as misplaced. Family lore had them blending with the native population. Names such as Bishop, Sturges, Powell, Hynde, Dare and Dutton appear in the old records and some were lost to marriage name changes.

There were Viking influences in England, Scotland and western France, spreading the special inherited abilities, the abilities becoming enhanced by later intermarriages among distant cousins and, in some cases, by siblings living in relative isolation. Singers, Bouchards, O’Briens and Thompsons came to the forefront and blended with the Ladysmiths and Thompsons.

Zanders and Nieukierks mixed with another branch of the Swensons and Campbells in Belgium and Holland. And the beat goes on. The family tree looked like the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

A side effect of the DNA-based abilities was an attraction to others sharing the genes. Characteristics became concentrated and stronger. Over the centuries, the abilities became specialized talents within individual family group. The Flanagan healing and diagnostic sense, the Swenson scientific and mathematical talents, and in the case of the men, the ability to know the unknowable and the uncanny intuition, bordering on mind reading. The Singers had inventive creativity and business savvy. The Chens and Blue Bears had Socratic grade judgment and something approaching clairvoyance. The Ladysmiths and Bouchards were scholars and theoreticians.

And the list of extraordinary skills and talents, unique and shared went on. Dennis was extremely blunt when he said that none of the members had any interest in wealth or power for its own sake. “We are not the Trilateral Commission, not the Illuminati, not the Rosicrucian’s, and certainly not the secret conspiracy seeking world domination. Most of the family effort goes into keeping ourselves safe and comfortable. That bleeds over into a general benefit for the rest of the world. SwenPharm stops plagues, Piedmont Children’s fixes broken kids, and Singer makes products that make life easier and safer. The restaurants create jobs, not only in the eatery, but on the farms where they buy produce, the places where they buy supplies. Thompson and MacDonald build things, gigantic skyscrapers and affordable safe housing. Farmers, foresters or scientists, no one does anything to upset the balance too much to control.”

“But we never deny our responsibilities. We have resources others don’t. Our wealth comes from the people who work for us and who use our products. We owe them our respect and protection when we have the opportunity. ‘Noblesse oblige’ is not optional.” Adam insisted. “That is not how we do things. We owe our prosperity to our communities. We pay our debts. But we take no bullshit from nobody. We don’t give bullshit to anybody. We are not in the bullshit business.”

“Always remember this. All of the families could be wealthier. SwenPharm, Singer Industries, Thompson Construction, Flanagan Healthcare, O’Brien Engineering, any of our businesses could charge more. But why price the products out of the reach of the people who need them the most. Even us. We could charge more, but it’s the students who buy the most pizza and pasta because it is good and affordable. How could we hurt them by pricing it out of their range?” Greta asked. “Donald innovated a portable water purifying system he sells at cost plus 5%. It is being used all over the third world. The WHO and UNICEF can afford it.”

“Hell, Greta, we donate as many as we sell. The profits from the other divisions more than make up the losses.” Donald said. “But we do not consider it a loss. It’s something we can and therefore should do.”

Phil added, “Your logo seen on machines keeping people alive makes your other products attractive. A DYI-er in Boise sees the same logo on his table saw and feels like he or she contributed to a kid in Angola having cholera free drinking water.”

“What goes around comes around.” Dennis said. “If we don’t have to fight cholera in Angola, we can chase bird flu in Bangladesh. Everything is connected.”

Emily tried to sum up the girls’ reaction to the news. “So you’re not shocked or surprised to see us all living here. In fact, you see it as a good thing for the Families and for us?”

Cynthia Elliott responded. “Any individual girl joining Phil’s house shocks no one. That seventeen of our daughters gravitated here was a bit of a surprise. A new, fully formed family unit this size is a first. History is being written. This chapter just happens to be a comedy.”

“And so far you have done the right thing every step of the way. You all just do it differently.” Tony, Joanne’s father said. “You are financed better than any group ever. Phil’s software profits and ongoing income, the money due all the daughters as part of their birthrights and trust accounts total approach a billion dollars now. And you are just getting started. The music, the art, the literature, the science, all will keep thousands people employed for years. That is how we influence the world.”

“We expect you to make us crazy proud, together or separately or just crazy and proud.” Claire laughed. “So far you have been quite the entertainment among the Moms anyway.”

“It’s official. All Moms are weird.” Sherry concluded. “Sweet, supportive, gossipy and way too nosy.”

Soon, the parents had to leave. Dennis and Jesse Fanning pulled Phil aside. Jesse said, “You have to decide what to do with the four professors in the art department. They belong here, too.”

“But it is a very delicate situation given their career track at the University. You will work it out with your usual lack of orthodoxy, I’m sure.” Dennis advised.

“They are coming over for dinner this evening. I’ll have to figure out a solution and tell them what they have decided. They’ll agree but won’t know why. Neither will I, but it won’t matter.”

“That’s my boy!” Dennis grinned. “Always go with what works.”

“You Swensons are nuts.” Jesse laughed. “I’m glad you are on our side. Just stay out of politics. That would be weirder than our wives.”

“Nobody’s that weird.” Phil told them. They had to agree. The facts speak for themselves.

The teens had the house back by 3:00. “That was quite the education. Who knew we were who we are?” Emily asked.

“Most of us knew something. None of us knew it all.” Phil suggested. “And we still don’t. Our parents don’t either. Maybe they can’t know. I’m not saying Mom can’t learn, only that the information is lost.”

“But we better keep what we do know ‘in-house’. We don’t need websites blaming us for Area 51 or hiding how we built the pyramids and Stonehenge. We should withhold that secret alien knowledge. It is none of their business. Humankind is not ready for a new creation myth.” Polly giggled. “They can’t handle the ones they have.”

“Never mention our mothership parked on the dark side of the moon. They will go on about that for years.” Bonnie warned the teens, wagging her finger, “Our loudest denials will just be proof we have something to hide. They will not welcome their new Swensonian overlords, no matter how benevolent we are.”

“Yeah. We Neo-Illuminati do our best work as faceless conspirators in smoke filled back rooms behind opium dens hidden in dangerous parts of lost Burmese cities.” April decided. “So what will we cook to ensorcel our professorial friends tonight? We will try our best to avoid smoke filled kitchens.”

“They come pre-enchanted, prêt a porter, so to speak.” Zina said, smiling. “They just need a room to be who they are.”

“How about a nice, Spring dinner? Salads, a grilled seafood entrée, maybe ice cream for dessert. Breakfast was heavy, even though none of us really stuffed our faces, so something light and cool would be nice.” Sally suggested to the approval of all.

“We can do that with what we have on hand. Make it a mixed grill, though. Cut a few NY strips in three, do some salmon steaks and flounder. Kabob the shrimp and scallops with a mild garlic butter baste. Pasta and green salads. Deviled eggs! We have tons of eggs left from this morning.” Sara tossed in. “We won’t even have to do any shopping.”

“That is a go.” Phil got into the plans and called Lanie. “You four are coming for dinner, right?”

“Amy called already. Can we bring anything?”

“No. Just your sexy selves and whatever swimwear you want. The girls are planning a light meal outside by the pool. A dip before and after will be fun. Pass the word, would you?” A hesitation. “Thanks. See you then.”

“Have you arty types given any thought to how you want the studios set up?” Phil asked. “Not that you have had lots of time to plan, but what about the space above the garage? It connects to the second story and is accessible from the front or rear by iron stairs.”

“That could work. It gets the solvents, silica dust and smelting gasses out of the house. How is the venting? Can we build hoods?” Zina asked before Emily could.

“It can be anything you need if the giant whole-house fan on the roof isn’t enough. We can put the easels in the space where we did the coven scene and the writing desks in there, too.” He assured them. “Hoods can be flexible. Gooseneck ducting. Splatter screens, too. I bought two double lots on this corner. An extension in the rear of either the house or garage is not out of the picture.”

“You all get together this week with The Drama Girls and get some elevations drawn up. I can use the CAD programs to make the initial blueprints to get construction or remodeling estimates. If we’re going to build out, we want it finished before Fall Semester starts.” He took the ball and ran. “All I insist on is that you do not mess with the area behind the main house where the pool is. Hands off my office. Behind the garage and the lot on the other side is fair game.”

“In my immediate future is a long relaxing shower. Some of us still smell like bacon, not that that’s bad, and I’m a little tense about the news we received from the parents.” Marcie sighed. “Phil and I started this whole thing when I was a poor student forced to get naked in public. Turns out I wasn’t poor but being checked for character. Getting my cherry popped by a virtual stranger, with whom I had not so much as had lunch, on stage while people stared and drew pretty pictures is a test I would not have expected.”

“You know another clever solution would have been OK, but I kinda knew the one we picked is the one we really wanted.” Phil said, “It worked out pretty well, don’t you think?”

He grinned. “We are all here and committed to each other. We might have gotten together eventually or we might have missed each other, too. We seem to be rather accomplished at stumbling into roses while avoiding the thorns.”

“All in all, we did OK. Tornadoes and terrorists we can pass on, but the showers and sundresses need us. Then we prepare to amuse and abuse our guests who really are sisters in our family. They just don’t know it yet.” Karen said. “In order: clean, cook and confuse.”

The showers got a serious workout. So did Polly when Phil squatted in front of her and stood slowly, impaling her on his dick, lifting her off her feet and into the air, supported by his cock in her pussy and her hands on her shoulders. He did his best to push her through the tiles. She did her best to let him, until the final orgasm drained her strength.