McKayla's Miracle Ch. 03

She didn't want me to know about them, but I found out McKayla was recording messages for Maureen. She told our daughter how much she loved her and how proud she was of her. My heart broke when I accidentally came up on the DVD she had hidden in Maureen's baby book. I watched two of the files, then couldn't bring myself to see my wife face the fact that she knew she was going to be lost to us one day.

The day after Maureen turned seven, we got the kind of phone call no one should ever have to take.

It was McKayla's doctor. Her memory was fine and there were no traces of the "shakes" as we began calling them. Both of us knew that it was only a matter of time before the symptoms of McKayla's disease would manifest themselves.

There was an uncomfortable gravity in her doctor's voice as he told us he wanted her to come in and run some more tests after finding something "funny" in her blood work.

After a second batch of tests, McKayla came back with colon cancer. The doctor thought they had caught it early and after a round of chemotherapy, she had surgery, and then another round of chemotherapy.

She faced this new challenge just as she had faced every other one in her life: head-on, with a steely determination and me at her side. I think the cancer was harder on me than it was on her. At least that was the impression I got.

We didn't tell Maureen right away, but she figured it out anyway.

"It's okay, Mommy," she told me with the kind of certainty only seven year-olds have. "Jesus will look out for Mom."

So we prayed together. I put on a strong face, but there was no doubt in our daughter's mind that her mother was going to get through this. I guess faith was another thing Maureen got from McKayla, because God knows, she didn't get it from me.

After the second round of chemo, the doctors declared her cancer-free. McKayla had lost a little bit of weight, but otherwise seemed healthy.

We continued on with our lives. After all, what choice did we have?

As we got older, I found myself in church a lot more. Maybe it was because McKayla and I both wanted our daughter to be raised in a Christian environment, but when we first were together, I went because McKayla did.

Now, when I was in church, I talked to God. Not out loud (only crazy people do that), but I prayed. Sometimes I was angry. Angry because God had given the most wonderful woman in the world a disease He did not provide a cure for. Angry because she had done nothing to deserve it. Angry because He was going to take her from me and our daughter.

Sometimes I was introspective. What was the purpose of faith? Why did He put us on earth?

And sometimes I was simply thankful. Despite all of the bitching I did, the fact of the matter was that I had found my soulmate, we didn't lack for anything and our daughter was healthy, smart and would one day have the world at her feet.

It's easy to fall into the trap of prayer. I think sometimes we convince ourselves that if we only prayed harder, God will answer them in the way we want. Of course, it doesn't work that way. He only answers prayers in the way He wants.

Many nights, I found myself praying to St. Peregrine, the patron saint of cancer victims, but McKayla only laughed teasingly at me.

"You don't pray to saints," she said one night. "You pray with saints. You ask them to intercede on your behalf with God."

"Do you pray with them?" I asked.

"I don't ask for intercession anymore," she told me.

"Why not?"

"Because God has already provided everything I need," McKayla said, taking me in her arms. "I have a wife and parents who love me. Doctors who know what they're doing. A wonderful daughter and enough money that I don't ever have to worry about providing for my family."

"Don't you wish for a cure?"

"Every day," my wife said, a wistfulness in her voice. Her raven-black hair had some streaks of gray in it and she refused to colour it out. There were some more lines around her eyes, but she was still the most beautiful woman in the world. "But I know that God won't wave His hand and make my diseases go away. He has a plan for me. He has a plan for you. He has a plan for Maureen and everyone else. We just don't know what it is. That is why we have faith. We have to trust in His will and that when it is done, it will be for the best."

She smiled sardonically, "Even if it doesn't seem that way at the time."

I continued to pray, with St. Peregrine now, but the miracle I wanted never appeared. Or did it?

Her cancer was gone. Her annual check-ups all came back clean. There was no sign of the Huntington's Disease.

We celebrated our 10^th wedding anniversary and everything seemed to be going our way. Business was booming. Our little start-up company had grown into a successful niche enterprise. We couldn't compete with the larger firms, but that was okay. Our emphasis was on personal service and we excelled. We soon outgrew the small office in the back of the house and set up shop in a new facility right up the road. We hired a staff accountant, a secretary and two associates in addition to McKayla and I.

All the while, our family also blossomed. We traveled a lot and made sure Maureen had every opportunity available to her. For a little girl who could have been spoiled rotten, she was surprisingly grounded. She took nothing for granted, she never acted like she was entitled to anything and somehow found the inner motivation to be better at everything than we expected of her. I'm sure she got that from McKayla.

That night, she went to stay with Nanna and Papaw, leaving my wife and I alone at home. We sat on our favourite spot on the beach. McKayla was behind me on one of the dunes. I leaned back into her arms and we watched the world go by.

"They started," she said softly. "Last week."

I only nodded. Of course I had noticed, but I wanted her to bring it up. Her hands were starting to twitch. Nothing major, and only for short spurts, but the early symptoms of her disease were appearing.

"What are we going to do?" I asked after a long time.

She took a deep breath. "We're going to fight it. Tooth and nail; I'm not going to let this thing beat me."

Turning my head, I kissed her gently. Her voice was defiant, but her tears betrayed the fear she felt.

We went inside and I took her to our bed. We made love all night until we were exhausted. Then we held one another, knowing that now it was just a matter of time.

***********************

"Moms," Maureen told us one day after school. "You'd better sit down."

"What is it, honey?" McKayla said, joining me and our daughter on the couch. The view out the big bay window was still breathtaking. We had the French doors open letting in a warm ocean breeze. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was the soundtrack of our lives.

"I've got something to tell you and I want you to promise me that you won't be angry."

McKayla looked over at me and shot me the do-you-know-what-this-is-about look. I shrugged.

"I know that you two are always telling me that it's okay to be different and that God loves all kinds of people," Maureen continued, making her voice small and meek. If she sounded grown up, it was because even for eleven, she was much too smart for her own good. She took a deep breath for dramatic effect. "I like a boy. His name is Trevor. We've been eating lunch together."

There was a shocked silence between the three of us.

"Amberle, is this how we raised our daughter?" McKayla's brow furrowed up in mock anger. I nearly burst out laughing. "I thought we taught her better than that."

"But, Mom!" our daughter cried out, her grin from ear to ear. "You said you just wanted me to be happy. Why can't you accept the fact that I like boys?"

"I'm sure it's just a phase," I tried not to giggle, but it didn't work. "She'll out grow it."

"Yeah, but she won't out grow this," McKayla reached across me and pulled Maureen to her, tickling her. The two of them collapsed on to the floor, both laughing for no reason other than sheer joy.

I watched them for a long time, happy that even when we knew that things weren't going to get better, sometimes it's the little moments that are the most precious. If there is one thing that I am thankful for every year on Turkey Day it is the laughter of children. There's just something so innocent about a child who isn't marred by cynicism or pain, doubled over in a fit of exuberance.

The three of us laughed a lot, sometimes because it was the only thing that didn't hurt.

Soon, we were sitting down for dinner. Maureen said the blessing and then we dug into one of McKayla's favourite meals, chicken and dumplings. Even so, neither my wife nor I ate much; we just picked at our food.

"So what's he like?" I asked between bites.

"He's cute," Maureen replied. "You know that guy you don't like from Channel Eight?"

"Who?" McKayla asked, "The guy with no chin?"

"No, the other one."

"You mean the one who looks like Uncle Ander? Only chunkier?"

"Taller, too. That's the one," Maureen replied. "He's Trevor's dad."

"I hope you didn't tell Trevor I don't like his dad," McKayla said.

"I didn't," our daughter replied. "I told him you didn't like that funky thing he does with his eyebrows when reporting the weather."

The rest of the conversation turned to other things at school. We never tried to be Maureen's friend; we were her parents, after all. But we always communicated, even in the moments when we didn't like each other.

After dinner, McKayla and I told our daughter that we needed to talk about something serious. I think at first she thought we were getting a divorce, which was a pretty rational thought considering that most of her friends either lived with single parents or were stepchildren to someone.

We broke the news to her about McKayla's disease and what we knew. She took it quite well, certainly better than I expected. She asked a lot of smart questions. We all cried.

Maureen had figured something was up; she had noticed McKayla's hands shaking, but didn't quite know what to make of it. We told her that there was no chance she would get this disease and that it wasn't going to affect us for many more years.

I was so proud of our daughter for the way she handled herself. She was so mature, a gift from her mother (and I don't mean me). And her faith sustained her. We prayed together that night for God's will to be done, for healing, for comfort, for strength and of course, for world peace.

Life went on for us. We saw doctors for treatments. They put is in contact with some research groups who were experimenting with medications. They told us the best way to stave of her memory loss was to stay mentally active. That meant lots of reading, puzzles and other things McKayla did anyway.

We cut back on our work, and after a couple of months, sold our business to McKayla's associates for a tidy sum, further securing our financial stability.

Now that we no longer had to go in to an office, McKayla and I began volunteering and campaigning for stem cell research, foundations that focused on degenerative neurological conditions and gay rights groups.

Our families supported us every step of the way. Don and Suzie introduced us to their sizeable network of well-placed friends who had deep pockets and were always quick to write checks for our causes. Ander and Brin, both of whom were married with children of their own, came by to see us often, making sure that Aunt McKayla got lots of time being around the babies she loved so dearly.

Our twelfth wedding anniversary came and then our world changed. Again.

***********************

"Are you wearing your present?" she asked me.

"Of course."

"Prove it."

I spun around and flipped up my skirt. The plug was uncomfortable, yet stimulating at the same time. It was making me wet.

"Let's go eat."

She led me to the car and we took off down the familiar highway. We lived in the same house. Some of the neighbours changed, but for the most part, it was still the same place I had moved in to over a decade earlier. Of course, its value had gone through the roof and if we ever sold the place, I'm sure we could have bought a small South American country.

We went to the same place where we had our first date. It was still owned by the same family and they knew us as frequent visitors.

I looked over the table at my lover. She was the same woman I had fallen in love with all those years ago. McKayla was just as beautiful and still took my breath away.

The two of us talked about the usual stuff married people talk about. Our daughter. What we were doing the next day. Our summer vacation to the Grand Tetons.

"Why did you ask me out?" McKayla said, even though she already knew the answer.

I smiled and took her hands in mine. They were shaking, a little more every day. "Because I was in love with you. Because you are so hot you can make a straight girl go gay."

"I love you, Elven Princess," she whispered. "Don't you ever forget that."

"That is one thing I could never forget, my love," I replied, leaning across the table to kiss her. We still get some stares when we're out in public, but you know what? I don't give a damn.

After dinner, we went home and took a long walk up the beach, our arms around each other. I kissed her and told her to take me to bed.

When we were through the back door, McKayla began peeling my clothes off. I pulled at hers, too, and we left a trail of skirts and bras and blouses and panties all the way to the bedroom.

"I am so going to fuck your brains out tonight," I vowed, pressing my lips against McKayla's. "This goddam thing in my ass has been driving me crazy all night."

"That was the idea."

She grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, exposing my throat. Her teeth went to the soft underside of my neck. I shivered with pleasure.

My hands groped her still-magnificent breasts. We lay on the bed, desperately pressing our bodies together.

Her fingers pinched my nipples. I fingered her clit until she my hand was slick.

"I want you to ride me tonight," McKayla whispered in my ear.

She rolled me over on my back and reached over to the side of the bed. With practiced efficiency, we fit the strap-on around her and McKayla lay back. I didn't need any lube and slid down on to her thick cock.

A satisfied moan escaped my lips. The windows were open but no one around would hear us. Maureen and a friend were spending the night with Nanna and Papaw so we didn't have to worry about being interrupted.

McKayla filled me up. Between the dildo in my pussy and the plug up my ass, I was full.

I sat back, knowing that she liked to see my face when we did this. I arched my back, giving her a nice view of my breasts.

Between my legs, I felt her thumb rubbing the nub of my clit. My hips began to move slowly, as I stretched to accommodate her girth.

"You are so fucking hot, Amberle," she said softly.

"I'll bet you say that to all the girls," I teased.

"I do," she replied with a slight smirk. "But I you're the only one I want to wake up with."

"Do you remember our first date?" I asked. I slowed my rhythm, just moving my hips a little bit from side to side.

"Like it was yesterday."

"Why didn't you come in when I invited you?"

McKayla closed her eyes for a second. She smiled at the pleasant memory. Her eyes opened and her gaze softened. "I wanted to so badly. . . . You don't know how hard it was to say no . . ."

Her voice trailed off. She took a deep breath.

"I wanted . . . I needed to take it slow with you," her voice was barely audible. "I knew if I jumped into bed with you, I would just use you . . . I'd fuck you and leave you . . . like I had done so many times before. . . and I . . . I felt guilty."

I gave her a quizzical look. "Guilty? For what?"

She wouldn't meet my gaze. She looked ashamed.

"Do you remember your birthday?"

"Yes," I said, not sure where this was going.

"Do you remember what happened between us that night?"

I smiled. We had talked about this before some years ago. She often teased me about that drunken kiss. "I tried to make out with you."

I stopped moving, forgetting about the toys inside me. McKayla chewed on her lip for a moment. "After that."

"What happened?" I searched back through thirteen years of memories to that night that was hazy at best and blank in large spots.

"Amberle," McKayla said, her voice heavy. "I have a confession to make."

Her hands absently caressed my leg. I looked down at her, very curious about anything she might have to say about that night.

"I took advantage of you," she said softly. "You were passed out in my bed . . ."

"And?" I asked, trying to draw the rest of the story out of her.

"When we brought you back here, do you wonder why you were in my bed and not in one of the guest rooms with Allyson or Bretlynn?"

The thought had never really crossed my mind until now.

"I . . . I undressed you," her face flushed. "I felt you up and touched you. I wanted you so badly . . . you just can't know, Amberle. I thought you were too far gone, but I kissed you. You kissed me back and then you tried to feel me up before you passed out again."

Stunned, I could only look down at her.

"I didn't do anything else, but I stayed in bed with you until dawn." Her eyes welled up. "It felt so good to hold you . . . I had wanted you for so long . . . since that first night Allyson brought me along with you guys."

My hand brushed her tears away.

"After I took you home the next morning, I came back here and lay in the bed. I could still smell you on the pillows. I masturbated every night that week, thinking about you . . . and having you in my bed."

She tried to smile. "I'm sorry . . . I should have told you earlier."

I leaned over and kissed her gently. "So in other words, you cheated when you turned me into a lesbian."

"I . . . I guess so."

With an exasperated fake sigh, I shook my head mockingly. "And I thought I was just switching sides because you girls had cookies."

That made McKayla laugh. "I love you, Amberle. I have loved you since the day I first saw you. I was just too scared to let myself fall for you."

"I'm glad you did," I said reassuringly. "You have made me so happy. You are the best mother I could want for my daughter. You are my best friend. And you're the best lover I have ever had. . . . And I'm glad you only said no one other time."

She sighed. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Hell, no," I grinned. "Now you can make it up to me by fucking me until I cum all over you."

"That would be my pleasure."

"No," the teasing tone was back in my voice. "It's going to be my pleasure."

We kissed again, our breasts pressing together and I began moving my hips again.

She thrust up into me. After years of practice, we knew how to get each other going. Our rhythm was perfect.

We moved in unison. I cupped her breasts in my hands and leaned forward so she could suck on my nipples.

I straightened out my legs so I was laying on top of her. I started to grind my clit against the top of the dildo. The plug in my ass shifted ever so slightly every time I moved, only deepening the pleasure I felt.

McKayla's hands were on my ass, pulling me down on top of her.

Throwing my head back, I let loose a feral scream. My vision was blurred but I saw my wife gazing up at me, love in her eyes.

I kissed her again. Hungrily.

My hips moved faster.

She thrust harder.

"Oh, fuck," I cried out.

Her hand slapped one of my tits.

"Oh, McKayla," I corrected myself.

"I'm about to cum," my voice was barely a whisper.

"Yes, Amberle," she commanded. "Cum for me."