One Prince Revisited

"That's one reason Mom and Dad are so keen on you," Kate spoke up softly. "We came back all bubbly and excited, and we haven't been like that for a long time. Steve and Tom saw it, too. So they all jumped to the conclusion that you were some kind of magic for us. And who knows? Maybe you are. But my sister and I are still really gun shy."

I started to pull my arms back from around them, but they both grabbed a wrist and Marsha said, "Don't."

"I, uh... I need to," I told her. "Gotta go use the facilities..." She and Kate both let go. "But I'll be right back, I promise." I got up and headed for the tree line. With my back to them, I relieved myself as I had said, but I was also burning brain cells.

These two wonderful creatures had been through a hell I wasn't going to be able to understand. It was totally wrong that anybody could have hurt them like that. And it meant I'd be walking on emotional eggshells from here on out. Which, I suspected, is exactly what they didn't want. I was completely confused. I figured I'd better level with them. I zipped up and headed back.

I made a point of sitting back down between them, filling my glass and drinking half of it, then putting my arms back around both of them. "Sorry about that," I quipped. "Hydrostatic equalization and all that."

"Please tell me you're not freaked out," Marsha jumped right in as she snuggled up against me. I took a deep breath and let it out.

"Okay, I'm not freaked out," I told her. "Confused as all hell about what I should do, how I should treat you, the whole fucking walking on eggshells thing... but not freaking. Pissed at the assholes and wanting to do something about it and feeling helpless. And unfortunately, regardless of your gun shyness, I love both of you. Just give me some clues of how to be around you and you've got it."

Marsha buried her head in my shoulder. "Dammit!" Her voice may have been muffled, but the emotion wasn't. I felt her start to tremble. On my other side, Kate leaned into my shoulder as well.

All of a sudden, Marsha yelled "FUCK!" into my shoulder and struggled to her feet. "Fuck!" She turned and started walking away. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck-fuck-fuck! FUCK!!!" she yelled into the night as she headed down the beach.

"Go get her!" Kate pushed on me. Hard. I got to my feet and started dogtrotting after Marsha with no clue what I was doing. When I reached her, I grabbed her shoulders... bad move. She whirled around and hit me in the chest. She had tears running down her cheeks.

"Marsha, I..." I started, but she interrupted me, hitting my chest for emphasis.

"Fuck!" she started. "We haven't even had a week and it's fucked up! Not even a week! Why? Why can't we just have normal??? What did we do to deserve this???"

I didn't know what she was ranting about, and I didn't know how to handle a woman's tears -- I still don't -- and I sure as hell didn't know what to do. My chest was really starting to hurt, so I pulled her to me and kissed her. Which got me kneed in the balls. Hard. I went down to one knee and tried not to vomit. Then I got a knee to the face.

I rolled away, hurting and bleeding all over the place. And... I figured I deserved it. But, fuck! she was strong...

"What the fuck did you do?!?!" I heard Kate yelling through the pain.

"I fucked up," I tried to say, trying to get focused and pinch off the bloody nose.

"I hit him," Marsha said, over top of what I was saying. She must have thought the question was for her. "Oh, God, Mark... I'm sorry... I didn't think... I just..."

I tried waving my hand to shut her up. I wasn't going to stand up right then -- my legs and stomach were still wobbly from the hit to the testicles. "My fault..." I tried to say. Kate came over and pulled up on my shoulders, making me sit.

"Damn, you're a mess..." she muttered. She pulled off her panties and used them like a handkerchief on my nose. Well, at least Marsha wasn't crying anymore.

Kate had Marsha hold the panties to my nose while she ran up to the house and got ice, wrapped in Saran Wrap, to use on my swelling face. I tried telling Marsha how sorry I was that I basically assaulted her, but she kept shushing me.

Finally, she just told me, "Mark, shut up! You don't get to say you're sorry. You don't ever get to say you're sorry about my issue. My problem, you're just the victim. So just shut the fuck up!"

I did what I was told.

We spent a couple of hours getting the bleeding under control and the swelling down before I was somewhere near functional again. There were all kinds of things I wanted to say, things I wanted to apologize for, and I couldn't because I'd been told to shut up. I finally got up the balls.

"Marsha, I'm going to say this once and then shut up because I don't want to get hit again," I told her. "Regardless of your opinion, I am sorry and I do get to say it. I don't know how to handle emotional trauma, but I do know that I don't want to hurt you, ever, and I don't want whatever you think is fucked up to fuck up our fucking, and maybe even a decent relationship. All I know right now is that I want you both, as friends, as lovers, as whatever I can have. You're driving this bus. Just let me know what you want."

"I want not to have hit you," she said quietly. I chuckled and she looked at me strangely.

"Well, if you wanted to let me know you could take care of yourself, that was one hell of a warning shot into the bow," I told her. "Remind me not to grab you again."

"But I want you to grab me," she almost whined. "And I want you to kiss me, and everything else. I don't want my problems to fuck things up, but they already are."

"No, they're not," I told her. "When my face gets back to normal, I'll show you." She looked away like she didn't believe me, but she came over and snuggled against me all the same. Kate joined in on the other side. We sat like that for I don't know how long, until I heard the Jeep horn up in the drive.

"That'll be the guys," Kate told me. "Picking us up to go back. You want I should invite them down for a drink?"

"Whatever you two want," I told her. "Like I said, you're driving this bus."

"I'll go get them," Kate decided and left to go up to the house. She came back with Steve and Tom trailing behind her. As she walked into the firelight, I suddenly realized she had my blood on the front of her dress. I was damned sure the guys had seen it, too. I was hoping I wasn't going to get put in the hospital.

"So I hear you took one for the team," Steve said as he approached where I was sitting with Marsha. "Shit, mate, you look fucked up!" Marsha turned her head into my shoulder again and I was pretty sure it was a sob I felt.

"I've been worse, Steve," I told him. "And it's nobody's fault. Or rather, she won't let it be mine and I won't let it be hers. She got upset, I tried to kiss her, I paid for it. I'll know better in the future. She's kinda paying for it, too, so you might want to cut her some slack."

Tom walked over and squatted down next to Marsha.

"Hey," he said gently, putting his arm softly across her shoulders. "We need to get home. Whatever you're feeling, I don't think you did the damage you think you did. Let's just make sure Mark has what he needs and come back to help him tomorrow, okay?" She took a deep breath and let out a huge sigh.

"C'mon, Marsha, go with them," I told her. "They'll get you home okay and I'll be fine. We can all get back together tomorrow, okay?" She started to get up, then threw me a twist by pushing against me so I slipped away from the log, onto my back. Then she slipped off her panties and sat down, straddling me. She leaned down and carefully kissed me, trying to avoid the bruising. Not that easy to do.

She sat up and handed me the panties. "Kate isn't the only one that gets to leave you a souvenir," she told me. I hoped she was joking. "If the bleeding starts up again, you can use those. I'm pretty sure hers are soaked." I looked over to where they were lying on the log and I had to agree.

"Jesus, girl!" Steve muttered in awe as he picked them up. "Is this all his?"

"Yeah," she turned to look at him and she was pretty irritated. "Now give it a rest!" He didn't say anything. He just dropped the panties back on the log and held his hands out in a sort of surrender gesture.

Kate and Tom got Marsha up and moving, and Steve helped me stand. "Anything you need, mate?" he asked.

"Just aspirin, alcohol and more ice," I grimaced. "It's all up at the house. I'll be okay." He took me at my word and we went on up after the others. I stayed up on the porch while the four of them headed down towards their car.

Marsha paused for a moment before she got in and looked back up to me. I wasn't sure what her expression meant, but I wanted to find out, because there was too much sadness in it, whatever she was feeling. But then she turned and got in the car and they drove off, headed home. I went inside and got the aspirin, alcohol and ice, sitting in the living room and looking out the picture window as I slowly wound down to sleep.

* * * * *

[Tuesday 6/29]

It wasn't the Terneys that showed up first. It was my brother.

"What the fuck happened to you?" he asked. He and his buddy Jim had stopped by to see if I'd scored the wine for him.

"I had an accident," I told him.

"With a tree?" he asked. "Unbelievable..."

"No," I told him, "with a young lady quite capable of defending herself. But it was an accident. Don't sweat it. I've got three bottles for you. They're in the fridge."

"Don't get up," he told me. "I'll get them. Out of curiosity, which one corrected your erring ways?"

"Don't worry about it," I told him. "Get your wine and head out. The guys are coming down today to help me with some of the maintenance shit. You probably want to be gone before they get here."

"The guys? I thought you said two sisters. What are ya doing? Switch hitting?"

"The girls' older brothers, Matt," I told him, "and the girls."

"C'mon, man, let's bail," Jim told Matt. "We don't want to get roped into helping. We're supposed to meet everybody at the Yacht Club in half an hour."

Matt decided there was wisdom in his buddy's words and the two of them left. I took a look in the mirror and decided he was right. I looked like I'd smashed into a tree. It wasn't hurting nearly as bad as last night and the swelling was down, but the bruising looked worse. I tried putting some aloe on it, although I didn't really see any difference. I was contemplating just how ugly I looked when I heard the Jeep in the drive. Heaving a sigh, I went out to greet them.

I was a little surprised to find Steve and Tom there, but not the girls. When I went down to meet them, Tom explained that Marsha and Kate were having a "relationship summit" with their parents, but since they weren't involved, they thought they'd come on down and get started.

"They're having a what?" I didn't get it.

"They're talking about you, mate," Steve told me.

"Me? What did I do?" I couldn't figure how kissing Marsha and getting my ass kicked for it could cause a family crisis.

"It isn't what you did," Steve answered.

"It's what Tim Jenkins and Bob Connelly did," Tom added.

"Who?"

"The two rapists we put in the hospital," Steve answered.

"Look, guys..." I almost pleaded. "I'm not stupid. But you're talking circles around me. What the fuck is going on? In plain American."

"Look," Steve told me, "the girls have got it bad for you and they're scared shitless that Marsha's knee-jerk reaction just fucked up any possibility of have a 'normal' relationship with you, and their angst was a major bummer at breakfast, so Mom and Dad are talking them off the ledge."

"Marsha didn't fuck anything up," I protested. "I grabbed her and kissed her and got nailed for it. I pretty much deserved it. And I don't give a rodent's rear-end about past shit. They're beautiful in my eyes... goddesses... I just need somebody to tell me what the fuck to do. I don't want to set off some emotional landmine just because I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."

"We know that," Tom told me. "They don't. So let Mom and Dad have a crack at them while we get started on this stuff. You want to show us the ladders and paint and shit?"

"Uh, yeah... sure." I took them around the side of the house where I had everything laid out. They checked it out, pronounced themselves good to go and sent me off to start scrubbing the porch.

It was around noon when we broke for lunch. They'd gotten two sides done, I'd gotten the porch scrubbed down with the hydrochloric acid and then rinsed down with water. I had to wait for it to dry before I could put down any paint, and they needed me out of the way to get that side of the house.

I made some cold cuts and cheese sandwiches, we opened a few beers, and we sat in the house, talking. I pointed out that I was going to need to fog again or the flying bloodsuckers would descend on us in the afternoon. And that led me to remember that the screen house needed to be put up. And so forth.

They tried to explain the machinations of a young woman's mind and I tried to follow along. What it came down do was, just me keep being me and not try to second guess anything about the girls. I asked them if I was crazy to want them both and they told me I'd be crazy not to. I decided to be bold and ask...

"So, in our pre-knee conversation," I put out there, "they told me basically that you guys had a special and intimate relationship. Actually, your whole family was special, and they intimated that their loss of virginal status was because of you guys... and please don't hit me, I'm sore enough already."

"You're not the only one that loves them, Mark," Steve said quietly. "All four of us ex-virgins changed our status with each other. Nobody got hurt, everybody got loved and we're rock solid with it. Mom and Dad are whatever that one is that isn't Liberal and isn't Conservative... the one that's both."

"Libertarian?" I suggested.

"Yeah, that one," he nodded. "They believe strongly in personal freedom and personal responsibility. Doesn't make 'em very popular with the neighbors, so they pretty much keep it to themselves. The point is, we've got public faces and private faces and the private faces are nobody's business but ours. Except you're getting a glimpse because somehow you're special. Definitely with the girls, and I think with Mom and Dad. So far, I don't have any problem with you."

"You just need to remember, discretion is the better part of valor," Tom added. "What's said or done here, stays here."

"Gotcha loud and clear," I told them. "Did the girls happen to tell you how we met?"

"In great detail," Steve grinned. "Guess you made a big impression on them!"

"Oy!..." I buried my face in my hands.

"C'mon, dude," Steve told me. "Let's finish this up. We'll get the front gutters while you put up the screen house and fog. When we move to the garage side, you can paint the porch. Voila! Most of your work is done."

"That sounds better each time I hear it," I smiled. "Let's do it."

* * * * *

It was late afternoon when we finished up. Having the guys' help cut the time way down. We were cleaning up when I heard the phone ring -- the two long, two short that was our extension on the party line. I left the guys to finish up and went in to answer it.

"Mark, it's Don," Mr. Terney told me when we'd cleared the line of eavesdroppers. "When you guys get to a stopping point, I'd like you to come on up here for dinner and a swim, or whatever. I'll be blunt. There's some clearing the air that needs to happen, and besides, Natalie wants to see your buff bod again. And to ease your mind, in case it makes a difference to you, clothed is fine."

"I guess I'm okay with that, Mr. Terney," I told him. "We're almost done here, anyway. You can guess I'm pretty nervous about seeing the girls again."

"Marsha promises not to hit you again," he told me and he sounded serious.

"Mr. Terney..." I started.

"Don," he told me.

"Okay, Don... I'd let her punch me in the face every damned day if that's what it took to get the shit out of her system and maybe get some healing in there. I don't want her feeling guilty at all. I just don't know what to do. I know she's got to work it out herself. I know Kate's got to have similar issues. She just doesn't show them. So if you've got any advice on how to handle young women's emotional trauma, I'm all ears. But scared shitless or not, I can be there for dinner."

"You're a good man, Mark," he told me. "We can talk later. See you for dinner."

"Yes, sir," I told him. "See you for dinner. Bye."

We hung up and I went and told the guys about the dinner invite. They decided to head on back as soon as we had everything cleaned up and put away. I decided to get a shower and clean clothes, and meet them up at their place. I was getting dressed when I got a good look at myself in the mirror.

Bluntly, I looked like shit. And that bothered me. In a move that was pure desperation, I raided my mother's makeup kit which she kept in the master bedroom. Easier not to have to lug a bunch of stuff back and forth, I guess. I rifled it, looking for something to hide the bruising. I had no idea what I was looking for, so I just tried a little bit of everything. I also didn't know how to wash the shit off when it made me look like a psychotic circus clown. I was fucked.

Finally, I gave up in disgust. Maybe Mrs. Terney would know how to get the paint off. I was going to be late if I didn't get my shit together and drive up there, so I just wiped off what I could, grabbed my keys and left.

* * * * *

"What the hell did you do to your face???"

That was Kate's reaction when she saw me pull the Corvair in and park.

"Trying out your psycho-circus clown persona?" Tom was hot on her heels.

"Gimme a break," I told them as I exited the car. "I tried covering up the bruising and blew it. So sue me. I just didn't want to be a constant reminder of a couple of well-placed knee strikes."

"Well, you better come with me," Kate told me. "Let's see if we can get you cleaned up before Marsha sees you."

"Too late." It was Marsha, coming off the porch with her Mom. "Let me guess... you've never taken a theater class. God, you're a mess. A well intentioned mess, but still... a mess."

"Thanks," I sort of mumbled. You know, sex and nudity aren't the only embarrassing things in the world.

"Mark, I can get you squared away in a jiffy," Missus told me. "Come on with me and if you really want the bruising covered up for tonight, I think I can help you. Or you can just flaunt your battle scars."

"Yeah..." I looked over to her. "Except I lost." That got a chuckle out of everybody but Marsha.

"Come on, Mark," Missus gestured to me. I started to follow her and it suddenly registered, everybody was wearing clothes. Missus looked as awesome in clothes as her daughters did. I shook my head to try to clear such blasphemous ideas, but I started to get hard, even as I walked. It didn't matter which way I turned, there were three of them that could get to me just by existing.

Everybody else started to troop along behind us, but she nixed that.

"Go help Steve and your Dad," she told them. "I've got this. Give me ten minutes and we'll be ready for dinner. Make sure we're not dining with the mosquitoes." With a little grumbling, Tom, Marsha and Kate peeled off and headed a different direction. Missus took me back to her bedroom and its private bath. She sat me on the toilet and started digging out stuff. Whatever the paint stripper was that she used on my face, everything came off alright... and several layers of skin with it.