It Ain't Paranoia if... Pt. 02 Ch. 09

We stepped to the side, clapping and cheering with everyone else as the happy family walked back down the aisle.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce the MacGregor family: Grace, Logan, Kaitlyn, and Rob!"

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La Kiva was crowded: dozens of friendly acquaintances from the Bend to the Davis Mountains and beyond were waiting; with the addition of our wedding guests, the old cave was SRO! Tables and chairs had been added to both sides of the 'head table' where los compañeros usually held court.

The reception line that quickly formed seemed to be never ending. The men were insistent on kissing the brides, the women were equally insistent on kissing the grooms. Most of mine were no more than a quick buss, but some lips lingered and some tongues flicked... with Kaitlyn's mom and grandmother in the last category! That threw me, but both just laughed at my discomfort and patted my cheek, which must run in the family.

I was pretty sure Kaitlyn wouldn't need any foreplay tonight, given how long it took for men to make their way past her, and the red flush creeping up her neck from her gown. Clay's kiss was far too soft and sensuous for the occasion, but the same could be said the kisses Ashley, Jacki, and Addy gave me... and Kaitlyn, who was flushing to her hair line when the four of them finished with her.

Thankfully, they were at the end of the line, so we were then able to award sensuous kisses to our spouses, and move to our reserved seats.

A large painting, covered by white canvas, was hanging above our table. As soon as we were seated, Rene and Berta stood behind us. Carlos' shrill whistle cut through the din, and eyes turned to our hosts. Berta spoke first.

"The photos and paintings we hung on the walls attempt to capture the uniqueness of La Kiva, and the characters that inhabit it. See the photograph above the stairs? That's the original developer and owner of this unique place, who died on the parking lot in back. Directly across from the stairs is a picture of our good doctor Eva and her fervent suitor, who is now her husband.

I could go picture by picture and tell you story after story, but I'm going to let you do that on your own. Feel free to ask anyone whose photo you see to tell you the story behind it - there are some good ones!

"But, if you know La Kiva, you know there are some inexcusable absences from the walls. Rene..."

"It's impossible to photographically describe the uniqueness of La Kiva without a picture of the Knights holding court at the Big Table, and especially without our patrón, without whom this would be an abandoned hole in the ground.

"The man behind whom I stand rescued this treasure from oblivion and transformed it into an exclusive 'private club' to keep it local. He hired Berta and I, and has supported every scheme we've come up with to enhance the menu and satisfy our clientele.

"Early on, there were months in which the guests he brought, the rounds he bought, the meals he ate, and the extravagant tips he left kept us afloat. Just as he promised, though, the welcoming atmosphere, delicious food, cold beer, and good music on the jukebox made people want to come back, and now we frequently have to open the extra dining room to seat the crowds!"

The locals stood and cheered Berta and Rene; the rest of us joined them, offering the appreciation they so richly deserved.

After a while, Rene was able to continue. "Of course, our patrón gives all the credit to us, just as he credits his success in business and life to those who befriended and guided him. We all know the truth - he has provided more guidance than he's gotten, he is the glue that holds us together, and he is the reason we're here tonight!"

Berta stepped to the fore as Rene took a moment to overcome his emotions, and said, "Whether you call them 'Los compañeros, Los Viejos, or Los Jumanos en espíritu, our common patrón and his council of advisors are the heart and soul of this special place.

"To acknowledge that fact, we commissioned this painting from a photograph taken that night when we first met Dos, Grace, and Kaitlyn, and El Solitario lost his Jumano name. In the picture, Kaitlyn is telling her tale to Coyote, Chaparral, Gato, Toro, and El Saguaro, who you know as Clay, and Rob is contemplating her words.

"Everything changed after that night, and the reason you are here to celebrate these weddings is because Kaitlyn and her children had the courage to drive 650 miles to find the one they loved, and he was wise enough to welcome them."

Rene said, "Amigo, will you, your bride, y sus compañeros please stand and face the canvas above you?" We did, he pulled the cord, and an oversized oil painting appeared. It depicted that moment in time with unerring accuracy, and my throat tightened with emotion.

I wrapped my right arm around my wife's shoulders, saw the raw emotion depicted on the canvas, and quietly whispered, "Your honesty and courage that night opened my heart to you. Had you not bravely told our tale and taken the blame, this night would not have happened, my Brave One."

Still staring up at the picture, she said, "Berta, who took the picture, and who painted this? Both are geniuses!"

"My cousin Francisco - Frankie - took the photo, and his wife, Ymelda, did the painting," Berta answered. "Do you remember them? They have two darling young sons, Juan and Pancho."

"Yes, I remember!" Kaitlyn replied, "She's the aunt of darling Ymelda!"

I... we, had been studying the picture, and I took a moment to study the reactions of Brian, Ron, Chris, Carlos, and Clay; they looked as awed as I felt. I turned myself and my wife to face the hushed crowd, and said, "My friends Berta and Rene give me far too much credit; they are the reasons La Kiva thrives, not me, and you all showed your appreciation to them a few minutes ago.

"To acknowledge what we all know, my attorney in Midland has drawn up documents making them operators and half-owners of this amazing place, and those papers, which I intended to keep secret, will be under their tree on Christmas Day!

"Thank you, my friends, for being you, and for saving La Kiva."

I turned and hugged each, before turning back to our guests. "And thank you, our friends and relations, for being with us on this special night. I know I speak for Kaitlyn, Claude, and Eva as well when I say that, but I'll let them tell you themselves."

Eva and Claude stood, offered their appreciation to those in attendance, to Brian for officiating, and then to those who prepared our delicious meals, whom they named one by one. Once again, our guests celebrated their excellence.

Kaitlyn went last. She spread her arms wide and said, "I thank you, and I want you to know that I love and appreciate you so much for being here, for being our friends, and for being you!"

As the applause rose, she moved behind me to embrace and speak to each of the four men that fostered our relationship, cared for our kids, and protected us in danger. Though they attempted to remain stoic, each grew misty eyed at her secret words. She then walked behind me in the opposite direction to hug and speak to Clay, and then to Ashley.

When she returned to my side, I said, "I'm hoping the next thing on tonight's agenda is the meal! Gentlemen, Nina, Rosa - are you ready to give us instructions - I'm starving!"

The buffet was set up along the back wall of the second dining area, and I can't begin to describe the aural and visual appeal of the food! They pulled the butcher-paper wrapped tri-tips directly out of the coolers where they had been 'resting', sliced as much as you wanted, and sent you along to the homemade flour tortillas, guacamole, pico de gallo, street corn, spicy green beans, and green salad. When your plate was filled you were given another with your choice of desserts. Beverages were served at your table by one or more of the dozens of teenaged boys and girls helping out tonight - for a nice fee and tips - high school kids always need money.

The head table, minus our cooks, went first, which allowed the four of us, after finishing our delightful and delicious repast, to move from table to table and express our appreciation for the presence and support of our guests. We received well wishes at every stop, and were toasted any number of times. Fortunately, our champagne glasses were now filled with sparkling water, or we would have had trouble performing on our wedding night!

The Yonkers were sitting with older Lees and the Escamillas; a part of me enjoyed the irony, but tonight was certainly not the first time high-ranking Americans had broken bread with the head of a (reformed? reforming?) Mexican cartel. Perhaps more ironic was that they, and we, were depending on one another to stop an invasion and rebellion aimed at overthrowing the democratically elected government and terminating the constitution!

Kaitlyn's parents and grandmother, Bill and Claire, as well as Jacki and Addy and their young Lieutenants, who had arrived just before the ceremony, were at another big table, and the red coloration of the young men's faces explained the roar of laughter, primarily from the women. I almost feared stopping, but Kaitlyn forged ahead, eager to engage.

Truthfully, they were kind, but we still caught hell, if teasing and ribald advice can be considered hell. Kaitlyn laughed it off; I just went along, and soon the teasing and explicit sexual advice turned to best wishes, prayers, and heartfelt advice. As we had done with the Lees, Escamillas, and Yonkers, we asked them to eat brunch with us at 9:30, after which we would firm up our plans for the holidays ahead. The young aviators looked confused, so I declared, "Be sure you bring them too, if they're capable after tonight!" That mostly to see them turn red again, which they did.

Our next stop was the law enforcement table, consisting of the families of Sheriff Goodson of Davis county, Sheriff Aleman of Brewster county, and five border patrol officers, including the station chief. As I started away, the station chief quietly assured me, "You CAN count on us this go-around, regardless of any orders to the contrary!" That was reassuring, as they are numerous, well-armed, and well trained.

We continued to circulate until eleven, when groups of guests began seeking out Berta and Rene, Rosa, Nina, Chris, Ron, Brian, and Carlos to thank them for their hospitality and the excellent food. Before midnight La Kiva was empty, the leftover food was in the walk-in cooler, and we were driving north through the desert. The kids were with their grandparents, but Duke was riding shotgun beside us in my Jeep.

Claude and Eva were in the Suburban in front of us, and their silhouettes were as blended as our own. Kaitlyn gave me a play-by-play retelling of the comments from guests; perhaps in case I missed something, but probably because she wanted to recapture and remember.

"I can't imagine a more beautiful setting for a wedding! - Most splendid sunset I've ever seen, and it was happening all around you! - The four of you, looking at your partners with such love, with the sky lit up gloriously all around you! - I never dreamed a desert could be so beautiful, or that an outdoor wedding could be so magnificent!"

"And, Honey, every single one wished blessings on us or happiness in our marriage! Isn't that wonderful?"

"You did good Baby Girl! It was the wedding others only can dream of, and I'm confident our marriage WILL be blessed and happy.

"Now, let's talk about the good stuff: what about tonight?" The last was said in a teasing manner, eyebrows raised, full of innuendo about the sexual exploits ahead.

I expected some kind of boast and a challenge, but, to my surprise, she grew quiet and thoughtful. Not a word was said as we climbed the mountain and parked. She took my hand, led me to the now-pristine patio, and we stood in the desert darkness, lit only by the canopy of stars and a waning crescent moon.

She led me back through the vows spoken by Claude and Eva, and our own, and waxed philosophical about the deeper meaning of the terms we used in our promises. I listened, looking up at the heavens as she was, but very aware of the golden hair just below my chin and the curvy body pressed against mine.

It's always been clear that Kaitlyn is intelligent and cunning, but neither 'deep' nor 'philosophical' came to mind when I thought about my old wife, or my new; yet, here we were. Has 'mommy's precious baby girl' / 'Daddy's princess' / my 'sexy little vixen', matured into the smart, thoughtful, insightful woman under my arm?

And then she sealed it. "Rob, I do have a challenge for you tonight. I know you're thinking some kind of sexual gymnastics, but that's not it. We both know you can play me like a fiddle and make me cum a dozen times in a night, so that's not really a challenge.

"My challenge to you, on our wedding night, is to let me experience the depth of your love for me. The words you spoke tonight touched my soul, but now I want to feel your emotion, your passion, your love - and I want you to feel mine!

"Can that be tonight's challenge, my most precious husband?" I kissed her in response, letting my love for her flow into her.

The 8' x 10' shower was wet but unoccupied, the bedroom door was closed, and we could hear their passion, though barely. After twelve minutes under the seven showerheads, we were clean and primed. We dried each other and walked to our rooms naked.

I redirected her away from the bed to the windows, where we looked out over the eerie landscape while I began my expression of love. My fingertips, my palms, my lips and tongue, all attempted to validate that my desire and need for her goes far beyond the sexual. Her body and mouth responded in kind, and soon we were engulfed in a fever I'd never experienced.

That fever would only magnify as we made love once, male dominant, and then again, female dominant.

After the infernos erupted, she rolled off, plastered herself against me, and murmured, "I do so love you..." "And I love you more," I whispered in reply, just before we drifted off to sleep.

The world might have other plans for us in the not-too-distant future, but tonight we slept peacefully, wrapped in each other's arms and loving devotion.