Ready Ch. 03

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Thanksgiving: tender moments.
8.9k words
4.83
24.5k
7

Part 3 of the 7 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 01/20/2009
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driphoney
driphoney
78 Followers

Author's Note: For those who might be jumping into Ch. 3 and hoping for a quickie, sorry. What you're looking for is in here, but you have to dig. This is a little unconventional for Lit, but it's what came out of my mind! I really want to thank those who've voted, commented and sent me feedback, and Asylumseeker for editing.

Thanksgiving

Kevin leaned on the doorjamb. Having secured third place in the shower line-up and only running out of hot water the last two minutes, he was feeling pretty good about himself. Ah, the joys of a large family! He was watching Deonne interact with Becca and Camille as they laughed and joked while chopping, stirring and washing, doing the early preparations for Thanksgiving dinner, still hours away. He was amazed at how domestic and utterly feminine Deonne really was.

Did her fellow naval aviators ever see this part of her? Did they know she loved to sew or that baking was her passion? Did they know she painted her toes hot pink? And that her khaki uniform coveralls hid a lacy white thong and see through bra? Pulling his mind back out of his dick before he got in trouble, Kevin announced his presence.

"Morning ladies. Anything I can do to help?"

With a start, all three heads turned to stare, three jaws dropped.

Becca, rarely at a loss for words was the first to recover and stated with wide eyes, "Did you just volunteer to help? As in 'help in

the kitchen'?"

Starting to realize the lay of this land in McNeil Territory, a small dimple formed in his left cheek. Seeing it, Becca nearly swooned.

"Quick! Someone put an apron on that man before they come and liberate him!"

Coming up behind her, Kevin put his arms around Deonne. He stuck his finger into the pumpkin batter then licked.

"Seriously, what can I do to help?" he asked, sticking his finger back in the batter.

"Seriously?" Deonne asked.

"I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it."

He held his finger to her lips and without thinking she opened them and sucked and licked. As he started to slowly pull his finger out of her mouth Deonne felt a little quiver between her legs and a sigh escaped her lips.

"Okay. We could sure use someone to check the bathrooms and pick up all the towels and clothing lying on the floor, then take them down to the basement for us to wash later. That way nobody'll kill themselves trying to get to the toilet!"

"No problem."

"Deonne, where did you find this guy?" Camille asked with a smile as they heard Kevin's feet on the stairs.

"Don't worry. I think it's all an act," she answered with a wry grin. "I'm pretty sure he'd rather be outside with the guys. He's not a farmer, but he spends a lot of time crawling around in the woods being up close and personal with nature!"

Chuckling, Becca replied, "Well, don't tell Dad. There's a lot of nature out in the barn that I'm sure he'd love to let Kevin get personal with!"

Mucking out was a never-ending chore on a dairy farm, and now that everyone had left home their father did most of it himself with the help of Ernie, the once-a-week hired hand.

*****

Coming down the upstairs hall with an armload of towels and clothing, Kevin bumped into Paul as he was coming out of a bedroom. Long and lean, with wavy auburn hair coming just over the ears and a quick smile, Paul, except for his height, least resembled his brothers. Kevin saw some of their mother in him. Phil and Marc took after their father, even Deonne and Becca had strong hints of their father in the face and coloring, albeit a much more feminine form.

"Dude! What have they done to you?" Paul asked, chuckling. "Let me take that from you."

"Nah, really I'm okay, but you can show me to the basement."

"Sure," he agreed and they took off for the basement.

"You better be careful, they'll have you cookin' and settin' the table next! We try and not get too pussy-whipped around here," he stated with a grin.

"I can tell. Don't you guys ever help out?"

"Sure, when we have time, but we try to be discrete about it and all, don't want 'em to catch on, you know?" Looking over his shoulder, he winked at Kevin. "Dad usually has so many projects waiting for us when we visit, we barely get in the house to eat and sleep. This morning I gave him a break by doing the morning milking, then Marc and I repaired some roofing that was loose on the barn. Oh, and Phil fixed the chicken wire on the coop." All this before 10:00am, Kevin noted. Farm days start early.

Making their away through the house, they negotiated various toddler toys and dodged running children.

"Alex! Walk," Paul called to his nephew, "You don't want to get busted by your mom!"

Finally in the basement, the men sorted the clothing from the towels and shoved a load in the washer. Leaning on the dryer Paul turned towards Kevin and watched as he dumped in some laundry detergent.

"You know, while I'm home I should grab Marc's laundry and wash it for him. It's starting to take over the house like a giant fungus and I fear the girls are wearing retreads, if you know what I mean."

"He seems to have a lot on his plate," Kevin acknowledged. Deonne had told him of Marc's recent divorce and he knew the man was a veterinarian and helped with the farm.

"Yep. I told him to bring in some help, but he hasn't got it done yet. Maybe he's not ready."

"So, Paul. Deonne tells me you're back in school."

"Yeah, the long lost prodigal has returned to the fold," he said with a chuckle.

"How's that?"

"Dad was a high school dropout and he was going to make damn sure that didn't happen to us. Matter of fact, he had to improve on that idea; we were going to fuckin' college if it killed him. I mean, there are no college funds or anything, but by sheer force of his will we were going.

"So, I headed off to the local U. after high school, partied my ass off for two years, and realized I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. So I quit, headed to California and became a deck hand. To say Dad was pissed would be an understatement."

"Must have been a hell of an adventure for an Ohio boy."

"Oh, it was! For a while at least." He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. "It finally got time to move on."

"What are you studying?"

"Marine biology."

"Can't get away from the water, huh?"

"I love the ocean. This huge expanse of green, it all seems so simple, but hidden underneath is so much power and mystery. I never get tired of it."

There was a lot more going on in the head of this shaggy-haired, blue-eyed beach bum than appeared on the surface, just like his beloved ocean.

"So, General, you up for a little touch football?"

"Absolutely!"

"Good, how are you at quarterback?"

"Not bad."

"Yeah?" Things were looking up. John was their only real quarterback, though everyone swore they were an undiscovered Tom Brady. "First, we've got to catch us some chickens. Let's see if we can con those girls into lettin' us have Deonne. She's the best kicker we have, and besides she's the only one not afraid of Delbert."

*****

Kevin stood, hands on his knees, bent over gasping for breath. Three hours of P.T. a day hadn't prepared him for this. He was standing in the front yard and seven McNeil's were staring at him, waiting. Five minutes earlier he had failed to find an opening for his pass. Deciding to run the ball himself, he was making good progress only to look up and see Deonne coming at him like a rat terrier after a fresh ankle. The next thing he knew, she had her arms wrapped around both his feet bringing him down for the second time this weekend.

"Hey! This is supposed to be touch football!"

"What are you talking about? I touched you!"

Shaking his head, he knew when he was being schooled. In this family, girls got to tackle, guys didn't.

Now he looked up at his teammates, hoping not to let them down. It wasn't the tussle with Deonne that had done him in. It was the fifty or so wind sprints he had made running after chickens, or from chickens as the case may be.

Delbert, it turned out, was a rooster. And he had taken one look at Kevin and pegged him immediately as a city boy. Every time Kevin, who had decided it was unfair to leave Deonne all by herself chasing the impressive-looking rooster, got within fifteen feet of him, Delbert would charge at him and do a little wing-flapping jump baring his claw. Goddamn!

Eventually Deonne, with a broom and trashcan lid, was able to get Delbert corralled. Kevin secretly renamed him Dinner and vowed a covert op to make it reality. Shortly afterward the hens followed their leader into the pen and the serious annual Thanksgiving Day McNeil Bowl began.

Kevin received the ball from Marc, and arm cocked, was looking for cousin Sam McNeil, his intended receiver, when all of a sudden Deonne's youngest brother, Andrew, yelled out, "Silvia!"

Kevin looked towards the dirt road leading up to the house and saw an ancient black Oldsmobile plowing up the driveway, shocks and springs groaning as the old boat gently careened over the potholes like a ship cresting and dipping on the waves of the ocean.

Kevin could not see a driver until the car stopped and out stepped a small man with slicked-back, thinning brown hair. From the other side a small, round woman emerged and moved to the back of the car where she handed the man a large brown department store bag, a large white bag, two plastic bags and a cake holder before she slammed the trunk, leaving the man to juggle his way to the house. Turning towards her audience she started waving and tottering over on unstable ankles in a pair of four-inch heels.

"Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo! Kids!" she called, her arms waving, numerous metal bracelets jangling and the large sleeves on her black chiffon cape fluttering and waving like bat wings.

Kevin felt Deonne move to his side and put her fingers through his.

"Drew, better go help poor Uncle Buster," Phil murmured and Andrew took off at a trot.

With that Phil and Marc moved towards their aunt, cutting her off at the pass.

"Aunt Silvia! You made it!" Phil proclaimed. "Did you have a good trip?"

"I don't know if you'd call it good. You know your Uncle Buster. Like t' thought we'd never make it, he drives so slow!"

"Hi, Aunt Silvia," Marc piped up. Putting an arm around her shoulders he attempted to turn her towards the house. "Why don't we get you in the house? Becca is probably looking forward to some help," he lied through his teeth.

But Aunt Silvia was not to be persuaded.

"So, Marc," she looked up at him, "that woman ever gonna come back to ya? I never thought I'd see the day a woman would ever leave you, Marc McNeil, bein' such a ladies man and a doctor and all, and what those girls must think of their mama runnin' off with that man on the internet!"

For a moment not a sound was heard. Kevin felt Deonne squeeze his fingers and looked over to see her slowly close her eyes and take a deep breath. Marc dropped his arm from Silvia's shoulder and just stood there, still, his face a blank.

"The girls are doing fine," Phil answered for his brother, hoping to relieve the instant tension, "and Marc's divorce was final last week. Now, why don't we go into the house and see if there's any coffee?" Phil suggested, moving over to her other side and carefully taking her arm.

"No, no, not yet. I want to meet Deonne's young man she brought home first. Is he here?" she asked while looking around, jerking her head from side to side trying to look past the brothers. Her movements reminded Kevin of the chickens they had dealt with earlier.

Finally breaking free, Silvia turned and saw Deonne holding Kevin's hand. Startled, Silvia stopped and blinked first, then moved over to the couple.

Pointing a bony scarlet-tipped finger at Kevin she gasped, "This? This is your young man?" and glared at both of them, waves of Jean Nate rolling off of her.

"Aunt Silvia, this is Kevin Banning. My boyfriend," Deonne spoke up. Her academy training served her well and her face was calm, but Kevin recognized the rigid set to her shoulders and felt the grip of her fingers.

Unable to stop himself, Kevin took the older woman's small shriveled hand in his and brought it to his lips, "It's a pleasure to meet you Aunt Silvia. Deonne's told me all about you." As he placed a small kiss on her hand he heard her quick snort in as she jerked her hand back.

"Hmp." Her eyes were wide and she looked at her hand as if it might fall off before looking back at Kevin, her mouth opening and closing, at a loss for words. Kevin gazed back at her with a small innocent smile, a look of mild expectation turning to concern as she seemed to struggle.

"Careful. Are you all right, Aunt Silvia?" Kevin questioned, reaching out to steady her, nothing but concern for her complete welfare showing on his face.

Not answering him, she almost fell over in her haste to turn and clomp towards the house. Silence filled the air for several moments as they stared at her retreating back.

"Priceless. Just priceless!" It was John, wiping tears of mirth forming in his eyes as he bent over trying to control his laughter, hands braced on his knees.

"John!" Deonne was looking at her brother in horror.

"No, no. Sorry. It was terrible, but it's just, dude, that old bat has been pinching my cheeks since I was knee high to a grasshopper. The look on her face!" he crowed, "I'll never forget it."

Trying hard to keep his own smile off his face Phil turned to Kevin, "If I weren't so ashamed, I'd pay you to do that every time you saw her. Seriously, man, I'm sorry. I wish I could say that's the worst of it, but ya never know what's gonna come out of her mouth."

"Don't worry about it," Kevin replied. "I shouldn't have provoked her."

"Man, provoke away!" John implored him.

"Food must be ready by now. I'm going to find the girls and get us cleaned up over at my house. See ya in a little while," Marc announced before heading off.

Looking after him, Kevin replied, "That man's the walking wounded."

"That man's much better than he was six months ago," John replied.

Turning, she put her arms around Kevin's middle. "I'm sorry, Kev. I knew she'd be a piece of work."

Kevin snorted, "You ain't seen nothin'. If my Louisiana relatives ever catch sight of you, sweetheart, it'll be a hellava lot worse than this."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But it ain't gonna happen," he decided while holding her tight. No way in hell would he put Deonne through that, or himself.

"I gotta go get cleaned up and help Becca and Camille. They've got to be going crazy in there."

"I think we both need to get cleaned up. Together."

Giggling, she replied, "If we do that we won't even make it for dessert and we'll look worse than when we went in!"

But she couldn't stop from pulling him down for a kiss. While her lips nursed at his, she ran her hands down to his neck. God, she loved his strong neck, his close-cropped hair. She continued running her hands over the collar of his sweatshirt onto his shoulders. God, she loved his back. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to shut out everything but his lips moving over hers, his tongue doing a lazy dance with hers. God, she loved him. Pulling back she slowly opened her eyes.

"I lo-," her eyes widened and she cut herself off. What did she almost do? Was she losing her mind? Oh, God. She almost told him she loved him! Someday she would have to get her nerve up, but today wasn't that day. Kevin was looking at her intently.

"What was that?" This is what happened when you dated a special operator. They never missed anything.

"Nothing," she said before looking away. Kevin put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his.

"Oh, no. It was something. What?" His gaze was steady and Deonne couldn't look at him, she turned her eyes away and pulled back.

"I really need to help Becca."

"Okay." He let it go and put his arm around her shoulders, turning them towards the house.

At the bottom of the stairs he parted from Deonne. She headed upstairs and since he'd been banned from the bathroom, he remembered the towels that needed to go into the dryer. They would definitely need them tonight. As he approached the kitchen doorway he could hear voices rising.

"Well, I never! My sister must be turning in her grave, her bringing that, that man into her house!"

"Aunt Silvia!" Becca snapped. "I will not allow you to talk about my mother like that! My mother never kept anyone, anyone from her house. She welcomed everyone!"

Though he couldn't see her, he could hear her voice catch.

"My mom loved everyone, she was kind and loving and full of life. If she were here, she would have been the first to rush out and welcome that man! Don't you dare drag my mother down to your level."

"'Down to my level?' Shame on you! We weren't raised to mingle, let alone marry another race! She would be heartbroken to see what her daughter has done!" With that Silvia threw down her dish towel and stormed out of the kitchen nearly knocking Kevin down. Moving out of her way, he stood in the doorway.

"God, she drives me crazy!" Becca proclaimed, her voice shaking.

Kevin, unsure of what to do, decided to clear his throat and step into the kitchen. Both women looked up, startled, and worry filled their eyes when they saw who it was.

"Kevin, did you hear all that?" It was Camille, speaking softly. Becca visibly took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"Hear what?" Playing innocent seemed the best role, sparing them mortification. "I'm just going to put the towels in the dryer. Dee will be down in a minute to help."

Camille gave him a shrewd look and decided to buy it. "That would be great. And, Kevin, I hear you're a fantastic coffee maker. Could you help us with that when you come back up?"

A smile broke across his face. "Love to. Dee taught me. She's promised to show me how to boil water next."

Deonne hurried into the kitchen a few minutes later. "Did you get it done? Where is it? Where's Kevin? He didn't see, did he?" she said in a rush, "Darn! I should have taken him up on his offer to clean up together; it would have kept him busy!" Oops. Shouldn't have said that last part.

Chuckling, Becca replied, "Relax. It's all under control. He hasn't seen a thing and he just went downstairs. It's in the fridge on the back porch."

Deonne had called Kevin's mother to find out how to make his favorite Thanksgiving dish, orange fluff fruit salad. Taking a peek in the fridge, she was about to peel the plastic back for a finger full when Kevin stuck his head around the corner.

Slamming the door, her face full of guilt, she straightened.

"Kevin!" Wrapping her arms around his neck she gave him a kiss.

Pulling her off him he said with a smile, "Keep out of the food little girl, you'll ruin your dinner. Where do you keep the coffee filters?"

"Oh! Oh. They're right in here." She pulled the porch door behind her closed and turned to open the cabinet above the coffee pot.

"Becca, where's Dan?"

"He's on Dad's bed sleeping. He got in late last night." She had an odd look on her face, was it guilt? Deonne noticed that Kevin, his back turned putting coffee into the basket, had a huge grin on his face.

"Maybe I ought to go get him up. Can you put these potatoes in the serving bowl and get the sweet potatoes out of the top oven? Oh, and we've elected you to make the gravy."

Deonne groaned. Their mother always made the gravy and none of them had mastered it. It had been decided that Deonne's was the least frightening. "Sure. Someone tell Paul to get in here. He knows more about biological disasters than any of us."

*****

"I declare Thanksgiving dinner a success!" Becca proclaimed as they were putting things away.

The kids were playing games or watching a movie upstairs in Andrew's room, which had a spare TV in it and the men had moved into the living room to catch the rest of the Cowboy's game.

driphoney
driphoney
78 Followers