An Unwitting Discovery Ch. 02

I walked right up to him and said, "Pete, I don't know what you think you're doing, but if you touch her again, you're going to have some more teeth missing."

"What? Weren't nothin'; I was just tellin' her it were a nice dress."

Mom was coming up behind me, but didn't say anything. The whole thing was heading south, in a big way, and I wasn't having it. The dream logic wouldn't let me deescalate the situation, at all, and I just kept rushing headlong into a fight.

"You've got a ten-gallon mouth, and you're overdrawn on my forbearance," I said, swallowing hard.

"Where's this coming from? Your whole life, you never missed an opportunity to shut-up."

"I saw what you were trying to do, you intoxicated letch."

"I ain't ever been drunk enough to take no mouth off'n you boy. You better shut yer trap, or you're gonna wish you'd never been born."

"Fuck you Pete! You weren't even born; you were just squeezed out of a bartender's rag. If you ever lay a hand on Suzan or utter another unsavory word about her, in my presence - "

Mom cut me short and inserted herself between us, as our language grew hotter. She was speakin' ten words a second, with gusts to fifty. "You two need to calm down," was about all I caught, when Pete's fist made contact. In the crazy dream logic, it'd hurt, but hadn't awakened me.

Suzan was behind me, telling me it was okay, but the drunken old fool had gone too far. Instinctively, I'd avoided much of the weight he'd put behind his fist, and we all stood there, looking at him sprawled on the floor. His punch had been the milquetoast, limp-wristed thing of a drunk and, while I'd registered the pain, my anger buffeted my actions toward leaving.

"Launa," I said, as she released me from her grip. "You two deserve one another. You saw the pass he made, at Suzan, and you still defend him. I don't know why you ever left Dan, but he's a better parent than you ever were."

"Come on Suz, let's get the hell out of this dump."

"Tommy, don't go, he didn't mean it -" mom started in on me.

"Mom, I forgive you, but don't even try to contact me until you're done with him."

Suzan had my hand in a tight grip, and I could tell she was upset. We headed out to my car, and I opened the door for her. When I got to the driver door, I saw Pete at the door with a shotgun in the reflection of my windshield. Launa was struggling and arguing with him trying to hold him back. Suzan's face was ashen, as I watched him come through the door in slow motion. I turned just in time to hear a thunderous boom, as the gun went off, and all I saw was a puff of crimson mist as the bottom part of Pete's leg seemed to disappear in front of us.

He fell forward, dropping the gun off the front stoop, and the screen door slammed back on my Mom. I started to run toward the porch, and Suzan was out of the car right behind me. When I reached him, he lay crumpled and rolled so his right side was up. He was moaning in agony.

"Get a towel and a belt, Mom!" I told her as she shook herself free from her former statue of abject horror.

"Call nine-one-one, Suz. He's been under-studyin' to be a half-wit a long time now, but I'm afraid he ain't gonna make it."

The scene started to blur as I put my hands around the slippery stump of what used to be his ankle and tried to stem the flow of blood. There was a lot of it. Pete had been yelling and moaning, before, but I realized that he was nearly silent, now, and was probably going into shock. Moments later, Mom was back with a towel and one of Pete's belts. I put the towel around the mess that had been his lower leg, and pulled the belt tight below his knee. He was trembling and clutching at his chest.

Suzan was right beside me helping me when it hit her, "He was going to shoot us."

"I never saw him this crazy," I said excitedly, as I tightened the makeshift tourniquet.

"He was going to shoot us," she repeated.

"What the hell has been happening, around here, Mom?" I asked looking at her.

She just stood there, watching the blood ooze out of the towel. her mouth fixed in an odd cross between a smile and a grimace. Her hand was trembling as she looked over her clothing. She'd been sprayed with his blood, and her dress now had reddish brown polka-dots. Pete was unconscious, and his hands felt cool to the touch. I knew Pete had been on blood pressure medicine, but his breathing was irregular and his pulse was very week when I checked at his neck.

"He was really going to shoot y'all," Mom said in disbelief.

"Mom, you need to snap out of it. I don't know if he's going to make it; I think he's having a heart attack or something. Is he on some new medication?"

"He stopped taking all his meds."

"To buy beer?"

She silently nodded her head as I shook mine. I felt for a pulse, again, when his chest seemed to stop rising. I couldn't find one, and began CPR. It was an abysmal affair; I had to clear the chaw from his mouth and then undertook the breathing with Suzan performing the chest compressions. About ten minutes into our attempts to resuscitate him, the fire truck showed up and the professionals took over. One fireman was bagging him while the other did chest compressions, and another swapped out a better tourniquet and clean bandages. When they'd gotten the bandages swapped, they brought up the automatic defibrillator.

Pete's body convulsed several times, as they shocked him until they got a faint heartbeat, which was just about the time the ambulance and police showed up. The medics got Pete on a gurney and took him and Launa to a nearby hospital, while the police took our statements. The dream's ending took various turns from there as our future afterward seemed to hang on his life or death.

Maybe, in some distant place in my mind, I secretly wanted Pete dead. I didn't think I had that kind of hatred, there, but the subconscious mind and dreams twist things out of proportion. To me, the dream was a warning not to go near that trailer, and I tried to blot it out of my memory by thinking about positive things that awaited us in Corpus. Suzan had fallen soundly asleep, and was making soft sleep-breathing noises. I turned the music off and drove on into the darkening afternoon.

Somewhere outside New Orleans, I gently shook her awake and said "I'm thinking I'm going to get off, here, for gas and one of these Cajun restaurants."

"Umm -- sure -- that sounds interesting."

"You have any preference?"

"Nah, you pick; I've never really had any Cajun food," she replied.

"Okay, well I've eaten at an excellent one, right off the next exit, each time I've passed through New Orleans," I told her, not wanting to risk a bad experience with her fragile emotional state.

I'd seen signs for the place for several miles previous and got off at the exit, refueled, and then headed over to the restaurant that I'd eaten at when I'd first traveled to North Carolina to start college. After parking, I hopped out into the warm evening air and walked briskly to the passenger side. When I got to her door, I reached to open it for her, but she was already opening it and it felt a little odd. I don't know if that makes me a sexist, I just wanted to be there for her all the time. Encouragingly, she held my hand as we headed inside to have a nice sit-down meal.

The ambiance of the place was really nice and homey. The waiters were decked out in relatively fancy attire. We both got a bowl of gumbo for our appetizer and the shrimp Étouffée as our entree. It seemed Suzan was livening up, just a bit more, at this meal. She was no longer just eating to survive; her natural character of discovery of interesting things had returned. She really enjoyed the food, and she gave me several smiling compliments about my choice, during the meal, which warmed my heart and raised my spirits.

After we finished, we got back out on the interstate and made it to Baton Rouge by around 10:00 PM. The turmoil and confusion in the wake of our unwitting discovery had caused me to forget finalizing a reservation, so I had to check a couple of motels before finding one with a room. The first one didn't have any vacancies, and the second only had one king, but I figured we were still sleeping together even if sex wasn't really in the offing.

When I returned to the car I told her about the arrangements, it seemed fine with her, so we each grabbed our overnight bags and headed inside. As we rode the elevator to the second floor, Suzan seemed deep in thought. We walked side by side to the room, where I slipped the card down the long card reader slot. It took a couple of times to get it to open.

Once inside, I noticed that the room had that slight odor from the over-use of scent removal products. It wasn't terrible, and would be fine for one night, as we were both very tired. The amenities were fairly new and decently maintained. The big king bed had nice modern lamps on either side of the bed, with USB chargers built into them. I immediately got my phone out and plugged it in so we could use it for our alarm. Suzan copied me on the bathroom side of the bed. The room was reversed from our apartment bedroom, but I'd automatically gone to the side away from the restroom. Suzan was smiling, just a bit, when I looked over at her.

"What are we going to do, Tommy?" she asked painfully. "I love you so much. You're always thinking about me, and what I want or need."

I had a feeling the conversation would come up eventually; I just hadn't realized it might happen that night. "Well, Suzan, I think you know where I stand. I love you, and I'll do anything you desire. The results of some test haven't changed how I feel about you, in the least." I really didn't want to throw my rope before I made a loop, but I just had to let her know I was there for her regardless.

"I want to feel that way, too," she said, sliding onto the bed beside me. "Can you hold me?"

"Yes," I answered immediately, hugging her close.

With silent consent, we eased backward on the bed until we were lying on our backs, staring up at the ceiling.

"I don't understand how this is so easy for you," she said softly, rolling onto her side to face me. "Don't you think it changes things?"

That moment was the most difficult I'd experienced, in keeping my Dad and Aunt's confidence, since we'd started dating. It was all I could do to keep the beans from spilling into the vast void of silence her question left for me. Only the fact that I believed -- to the core of my being -- that she would eventually come to this selfsame conclusion, even in the absence of that insight, kept me from divulging Dad's and Aunt Katie's secret. After some unsettling moments, I rolled to face her and gave her the most truthful answer I could.

"Suzan, sweetie, even if you decide we can't be romantically involved, you're going to be the best friend I've ever had. I'm not just saying that to convince you to stay together, okay? If we're related, I don't see us ever being out of communication. We've come to care so deeply about one another, that I simply don't see it ever changing. Plus, I love you. I don't think I have any choice in it; it's not a switch I can just turn on or off."

She gave me a light kiss on my cheek. "I know."

We lay together, just holding each other and gazing into each other's eyes, not saying anything, for several minutes. Silence wasn't worthless; she was processing what I'd expressed. I wasn't sure, but thought maybe some of what I'd said was clicking. Tuesday's discovery on the family room floor hadn't given her much time to think. Our trip, thus far -- while long and tiring -- had given her almost uninterrupted time to process things, even while she'd slept.

"Well, I think we need to get ready for bed," I said, finally rising to my feet to offer her my hand. "I have an extra toothbrush in my overnight kit in case you forgot."

"I remembered to bring mine," she said, sadly shaking her head.

"Good enough," I smiled softly.

"You know that's just what I'm talking about, right? You think of me, before you even think of yourself. Where would I find anyone that loves me, like you do? Where would I ever find anyone like you?" she asked rhetorically.

"Come on, let's get ready for bed," I said, assisting her up.

We brushed our teeth and took our turns to use the toilet. I was last to use the facilities and, when I got back out to the bedroom Suzan was just climbing into bed with nothing but her panties on. I'd wondered what the dress code might be, that night, given our somewhat estranged status. I stripped down to a similar state and climbed in beside her.

As soon as I'd pulled the covers up and turned off the side table lamp, Suzan insisted on spooning herself against me. Her bare breasts pressed against my back, and I became instantly hard. This was the woman with whom I was madly in love, but I didn't think she was ready to resume sex, and doing so might put too much strain on her, while she was trying to come to a decision about our future, together. It took all of my will to let it pass. Of course, letting it pass meant I still had a raging hard on, and I stayed awake until I could hear the soft whispering buzz of her sleep-breathing. I finally dozed off sometime after 1:30 AM; the last time I'd looked at the clock.

Thursday morning came early, and I got up to turn off the alarm before Tommy fully awoke. The bed had been hard, and the sheets were stiff. I showered and dried with a decently fluffy towel, but it was nothing like the place we'd stayed in at Myrtle Beach. I dressed and went downstairs to gather us both some coffee. Back in the room, I set his cup on the nightstand and bent to give him several light kisses on his forehead. I called his name softly and brushed his face with my fingertips. His light blond hair ran through my fingers and, slowly, he came awake.

"Did the alarm already go off?" he asked, raising his head to look where his phone had been.

"Yeah, I got up, got ready, and let you sleep some more. Come on and get up; we need to get back on the road."

Sitting up, he hugged me close as I stood there, his head pressed into my tummy as he held me tight. I could sense that the sleep he'd deprived himself of was beginning to wear on him. This was our second consecutive night of stressed and incomplete sleep, and it'd been accompanied with some kind of nightmare or night-terror, as he'd screamed out 'no' several times. Some sleep was better than none, though and, without the sleep I'd gotten, I would have been worthless.

I hoped he'd gotten enough but, when he looked up into my face, I saw the bloodshot lines that crisscrossed his eyes, "Oh, Tommy! I'm so sorry. I knew it -- you didn't sleep well, did you?"

"Suzan, I'm fine. I just need a shower and some coffee."

"I've got a cup of coffee for you, right here on your night table," I smiled at him weakly. It was torture to see him, like this. "I know you need your coffee, first thing in the morning, and I went down to the breakfast room off the lobby and got us each a cup, before I woke you."

"Now who's thinking of whom, before she thinks of herself?" he asked, giving me that unique boyish grin.

I turned to the nightstand, took the cup and handed it to him. He drank a couple long sips, handed it back and then climbed from the motel bed. He stripped off his underwear and wandered toward the shower with a hard on that'd cut diamonds. He was silly, and made me smile as he paraded past. It was more than that, though; it took all my strength not to jump him. Morning sex was always my favorite activity; of course he was good to go pretty much any time of day or night. When he finished washing, I handed him a towel as he climbed from the shower. I watched him dry off and get dressed, wishing I'd taken him back to bed, but continued fighting the inclination. We ate the motel's free continental breakfast, and were back out on the road before 8:00 AM.

We went through the crazy Houston traffic a little after lunchtime, and stopped at a burger place to eat and use the facilities. After getting gas, we were back on the road a little after 1 PM. We were making pretty decent time, and it looked like we'd be at Dan's place by mid-afternoon. The trip was mostly silent, with the exception of the music. The previous night's conversation hadn't been repeated, much. I knew we were getting close when he drove over the bridge to Mustang Island. The sight of the water perked us both up. I was debating on discussing what we might say when he introduced me to Dan and Katie. There were butterflies in my stomach, as I prepared myself to keep a secret from people I was sure I would love. I worried that they wouldn't love me if they knew our secret, though.

"Tommy, promise me that we'll be open and honest with one another."

I could see the wheels spinning as we approached my old home. Her question caught me off guard, but the only secret I'd kept -- was keeping -- from her, wasn't mine. It was Dad and Aunt Katie's and, despite the fact that it had the potential of helping her to solve her current dilemma in our favor, I needed to see what they felt, after meeting her.

"I promise to continue being as open and honest as I always am, and you can tell me anything. I'm here for you, whatever you need," I told her and squeezed her hand. It seemed a small concession, to keep it from her for the moment. I was certain that, if she stayed with me, it would have to come out, but I had no idea when.

"It's beautiful, out there," she said as she looked out onto the sparkling waters of Corpus Christi Bay.

"Should we say anything to them?" I asked.

"Let's just take things as they come," she replied

"We're nearly there," I said attempting to pull her into planning what to say.

"Oh -- yeah -- um, I wasn't thinking," she said, pausing. "I'd like to settle in before thinking about it further."

Putting off thinking about what to say seemed to leave me in the lurch, but it also seemed to loosen the noose I was feeling. My tension was lost somewhere between her words, the view, and the bright sunshine streaming in through the windshield. Soft warmth spread through my entire body, although I wasn't sure what might have caused it. The weather couldn't have been nicer -- the outside temperature gauge on the dash was reading 78 degrees -- and the sky was Carolina blue, with just a few puffs of clouds. I decided that the feeling of home -- Dad's home, my real home, not that damn double-wide shack in Austin -- might be just what I needed.

Soon we were driving up to Dad's house, on one of the larger hills of the island. Of course that's just a few feet worth of rise, and you'd barely notice unless you were pedaling up it on a bike. His whole yard and foundation were built up several feet on top of that, so that it was out of danger for most storms. I spotted his old Ford F250 in the driveway, and wondered why he still had it. The guy had talked my ear off about getting rid of the thing, two summers earlier. He wasn't overly thrifty; he simply didn't expend money on things he couldn't adequately justify.

As I pulled in, I saw Aunt Katie's Odyssey in front of the truck; they'd parked to one side so there was space for me to pull in adjacent the sidewalk to the house. The sky over the Gulf was a deeper blue, and the breeze coming in off the water blew his flags inland. I could tell that we would have several more hours of daylight.

The yard in front of the house was kind of an arid garden, with a variety of succulents planted in a sand and stone landscape. There were several aloe plants that were nearly two feet tall, on either side of the walk to the front door, and an even larger agave plant had its own spot, nearby. Aunt Katie had quite clearly given some embellishing flourishes to the place.