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Which is to say I wasn’t surprised when the other shoe fell. The head of security came out to speak with me in late November. It had been, of course, only the calm before the storm. A manila envelope, my last name printed neatly. Inside, photos of Madison getting on the elevator, another of Noah leaving the building. A third image of the two of them walking hand in hand, livid white scratches obscuring Madison’s face where someone—where Noah’s stalker—had used a key or her nails to claw at the picture in rage. The note said that the new girl had to die.
In other words, happy damn Thanksgiving week to us.
As soon as I was upstairs, I ordered them to pack their bags. There wasn’t time for discussion. We were going to the farmhouse. I wanted my family out of the city for the holiday weekend. The crazy woman would have too much time on her hands to make trouble and she was already closing in. I showed the photos to my brothers. They immediately swore and agreed with me that we had to leave.
Madison put up the sole protest, “It’s a picture of me. Big deal. I used to draw devil horns and mustaches in my yearbook on the girls I hated. I never tried to kill anyone. She’s mad. She’s lonely. She’s a little nuts. There’s no reason to run away from the city. Besides, I just got the shop open again. I don’t want to waste the whole weekend and everything I baked.”
“Baby, we’re going to protect you. You have to let us,” Leo said.
“Madison,” I said, clearing my throat, “do you want to agree to go to the farmhouse and make the feast there or do you want to have to listen to a long dull speech about your safety beforehand?”
“Okay, fair point, Ethan,” she said with a wry look, “Help me get the food packed up for the feast. I’m not letting this ruin our celebration.”
We helped her locate every item and every ingredient she needed and packed them according to her instructions, which took at least an hour. I chafed at the delay, but Noah elbowed me and reminded me that she was going along with the weekend away and that I could be patient until she had everything. I tried not to complain about the delay.
We drove out to the farmhouse and arrived after dark. By the time we’d unloaded the groceries, Leo had a fire going in the fireplace. It wasn’t long before we all crashed.
21
LEO
“Are you taking another picture?” Madison laughed. I nodded. I’d taken dozens of them all weekend. It had been a perfect time to show Madison the house I’d worked on with such devotion. It was not finished, but the bones were there, and the drywall was mostly in. The kitchen was finished and one bathroom. The HVAC was up to date as well. It made for comfortable living since we were without a bed. I had been dying to show her why I loved the place so much. I pulled her up the stairs and took her all the way to the attic to let her see the view out over acres and acres of fields, now a scruffy yellowish green-gray.
“In summer it’s so green you won’t believe it. And in early October—that one there—sunflowers,” I said proudly. She smiled up at me, “I can’t wait to see them.”
“You will. You’ll be here,” I told her.
Madison conscripted all three of us into service working on the feast. Trimming, basting, chopping, stirring—we learned to do it all. By the time the turkey was roasting, and two pies were in the oven, I asked Madison if she needed a nap.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind relaxing for an hour or so. Anybody want to relax in my room? I could really use a massage.” She said archly.
It was a wonder we didn’t trample one another.
Madison’s room had the only real bed so far. The rest were equipped with air mattresses or a sleeping bag.
“You act like I’m a princess, “she said, “it’s only fair I share the bed.”
“You’re our princess,” Ethan had said, and I scooped her up in a fireman’s hold and ran up the stairs while she squealed.
I deposited her on the bed and Noah told her to lie face down while we gave her a massage to thank her for all the hard work she’d done in planning and cooking our Thanksgiving feast.
“It’s a chance for us to show you how much we appreciate you,” Ethan said.
“Wait, you mean slicing your own knuckle with the potato peeler wasn’t enough gratitude?” Madison teased.
“I could have bled to death,” Ethan deadpanned.
“And I performed life-saving first aid by getting you that Band-Aid,” Noah said.
Soon we had her stretched out across the bed, stripped bare and enjoying the way six hands could melt away her tension.
“Mmmm, right there,” she said as I kneaded her shoulder.
“What about here?” Ethan said as he licked between her legs. I felt her tense and then she lifted her hips, tucked her knees beneath her and sighed happily. I kept rubbing her shoulders and arms and Ethan teased her with open-mouthed kisses on her sex. When I saw that her fingers were scrabbling along the sheets for something to grip, I moved around to her head and caught her hands in mine. She lifted her head and looked at me. She said my name pleadingly. This was my dream, this farmhouse I was restoring, this woman who wanted me, the closeness in this room, the knowledge that we protected our own. She wrapped her arms around my hips and laid her face in my lap. I knew what she wanted by now.
I turned her on her side, slid into bed beside her and spooned up behind her. I kissed her shoulders, whispered to her and held her against me. One of my brothers would kiss her mouth, the other would lie down facing her and move between her legs. I would anchor her, wrap my body around hers and hold her close, speak to her and sometimes give directions as she let them wring the last pleasure out of her body for one day. We worked together seamlessly, a team designed to give her the caresses and orgasms she deserved, never comparing ourselves, never giving a thought to who played which part this time. She let us know with small words or gestures what she needed most. We were each glad to step up and be who she needed at the time.
By the time we were all spent and drifting off into a nap, the loud oven timer began to blare. We exchanged a look, none of us wanting to go check the oven or to wake her up. So, we decided that Noah would check the pies and the rest of us would sleep until the turkey was done.
