Falling
Chapter Notes
This one is a bit shorter, but I like it's pacing, so it stays. :)
As in some past chapters, there is a plotline of animals used for meat. One of the
reasons I would sell a kidney for my own homestead is to raise my own, to treat them
with kindness and good food while they are with me. How better to respect what we
eat?
Also, I can't even imagine how I would even wrap this up in only 2 more chapters, but
damned if I have a CLUE what the final count will be.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Lena's POV
We've behaved ourselves for nearly two days.
I hate it.
Okay, so Thursday's all-day marathon of loading the meat animals and hauling them off was a legit
excuse to be separated from Alex. Who came home exhausted and clearly a little weirded out and
the whole farm crew was very quiet. They packed a giant chest freezer I hadn't even noticed out in
the barn with boxes and boxes of meat in heavy shrink-wrap bags and carted even more off to the
clubhouse.
Notably, we eat vegetarian that night.
With darkness a primordial black around us, everyone retreats to their beds. The loaded look Alex
fires Sam and I feels like a caress, rough and loving. Cuddled up in our borrowed bed, the girls
close, we sleep fitfully, missing the presence of her beside us.
Now it's Friday, everyone still subdued but troopers about their chores. To be honest, the family
and I feel awkward around them for the first time since getting here a week ago. But they quickly
put on a brave face and get us involved again. We didn't want to touch any of the projects without
supervision, but with Alex and the others rallying, everything gets moving again. The tables are
coming along, Carol and Kara making a laughing mess over trying to weld together some legs for
the huge cedar slabs, and Lucy pitches in with the careful dismantling of the old piano with Ruby
and Alex. Sam and Nia keep Lily occupied mostly with playing with the kittens and hanging out
with the young ostriches. Conveniently, Monica is off of school today, which is also good for
everyone. God knows I'm grateful as hell, because I'm too distracted to mom properly.
Not that I'm the only one.
Sam is downright subdued when not forcing a brave, energetic face for Lily, and Alex might
appear to be trying to avoid paying us any attention, but I feel the burn of that dark gaze enough to
leave my nerves jangled.
While there have been a few sly teases from the farm crew to keep us informed that we're not
fooling anyone, they've been remarkably hands off. Not at all what I expected. But their bonds, the
family of them, is one of the things I loved about them long before I met them.
Luckily, the snowstorm is a one shot, the pale, wintry sun fighting with gloomy skies to warm the
ground before true winter sets in. Good thing too, because I have no idea how we -well, Sam-
would deal with that damn RV on snowy, icy roads!
Thinking about leaving makes my soul hurt in disconcerting ways.
The sun is winning right now and Alex has pulled out her worktables on wheels, extension cords
trailing back to the shop. She and Lucy have continued to supervise Ruby as the bits of nowdismantled
piano are getting sanded down to bare wood in preparation to becoming something the
builder never envisioned. Lily is fascinated by the task of melting down hundreds of bits of
aluminum, tossing the pieces into Kara's makeshift crucible and flicking away the few ants
persisting in the cold. When the red-hot steel cup is mostly filled, Kara and whichever adult is
close by, grabs the handles welded on, and tips the molten aluminum into a couple of old muffin
trays. The growing pile of silvery pucks are far more wieldy than the mountains of scrap! The
savory smell of wood smoke and slow-cooked meat fills the air in warm counterpart to the
crispness of winter looming close.
It's like nothing I have ever experienced and it sinks deep into my bones.
Today I have alternated between helping Nia in the kitchen and curling up on one of the lounge
chairs on the deck. Even in the cold, I've dozed off several times, comforted by the sounds of farm
life around me. If I really cared to make the effort, there are plenty of things to get involved in, but
I'm relishing being home base for my girls, each of them wandering over for cuddles or a bit of
conversation when it strikes them. Ruby seems energized by all of this, and Lily strangely calmed,
Sam seesawing between the two extremes.
The calm of Sam and Lily in particular is fascinating. They have always been active quarks, New
Yorkers to their bones, as driven as the city that is home. Yet here is my wild spark, hours of
feeding old aluminum to a glowing bed of coals, and my lover, enamored of cuddling kittens and
sanding wood.
And me, snuggled into blankets and old rugs and secondhand clothes, breathing in the cold.
Hollow footsteps on the deck alert me to company, Nia appearing beside me, her expression
thoughtful, a mix of peaceful and scarred.
"I almost left more times than I can count," she says quietly, the fading day seeming to embrace her
and the heavy words. "To stay after my blood turned on me so violently for not growing into the
man they wanted me to be, was really hard."
Yes, I'm startled; I had no idea. But it doesn't change how I feel about my new friend and file away
the information and keep my attention on her.
"But this is the sort of place that becomes part of the soul if you let it." The gentle smile she turns
on me has a weight beyond her years. "And the people. You'll see."
And with that enigmatic proclamation, she hops down the pair of steps and strides across the gravel
road to shoulder up beside Sam and help smooth wood.
Alex notices Lily has finally run out of aluminum garbage and goes over to her, stripping off
stained work gloves. Wiggling tickle-monster fingers make my daughter squeal with laughter and
Alex turns the tickle into brushing her down in case any ants hitched a ride.
Cheerfully thanking Alex and giving her waist a big hug, Lily bounces over to flop on me. It takes
a real effort of will to fight down my natural revulsion of potential insect hitchhikers, but I manage.
For cuddles, it's worth it.
"I like it here," Lily says simply, her voice soft and dreamy. Off in the trees, a stellar's jay sends up
a racket of sound that earns a giggle.
"Yeah, me too."
Some time passes as the skies put on yet another beautiful dusk show. Pretty soon the gang will
begin putting away their busy tasks and slapping sawdust from their clothes. Laughter and good
feelings will follow the lot of us off to that delicious-smelling dinner.
But first, Lily has a twist for us.
"Mama you look tired."
Gee, thanks, kid. Trying for nonchalance, I can hear the forced quality of my reply. "Its, uh, quiet.
The quiet is just probably getting to me. It's hard to relax after a lifetime of New York."
Lily leans away from the hug to give me a long look. "Didn't your slumber party relax you?"
There is a beat when I swear even the trees and birds freeze. Then Lucy deliberately clears her
throat. Loudly. Sam and Alex jump in perfect sync, eyes like saucers. Carol chokes on a scoff she
turns into a cough, fist up to her mouth to hide her grin. The triple threat of Maria, Nia and Brainy
all giving the trio of us deadpan looks makes even Sam blush like a sunburn. Which she doesn't do
-sunburn that is- but my mind is wandering in a panic.
Let's see if I'm as smart and adaptable as I think I am.
"Well, sure, the slumber party was a lot of fun, but we had BP and Biscotti to keep us company,
and it's never completely quiet with three people around, you know, unless we were sleeping.
Which we absolutely did. Sleeping that is."
Oh my god, Lena, shut up!
If a seven-year-old can look pitying at her mentally foundering parent, mine is doing just that. Then
she shrugs it off with a cheerful grin. "You should do that again, so that you get some sleep.
Monica's gonna let us stay over again, so we have our own slumber party." Raising her voice up,
she bellows, "you're coming too, right Ruby?"
Ruby may not be my biological offspring and we might not have met until she was nine years old,
but that dangerously blasé look? She learned that from me.
"Sure thing, runt. After all, we wouldn't want moms short on sleep, now would we?"
I really hope I'm imagining the faint leer in her voice. The way Sam seems helplessly rendered
mute by all of this is proof enough that she's in the same boat. Alex looks like a deer in headlights
and Carol trots off into the dimming evening to get a grip on herself.
Thankfully, that is as good a signal for cleanup as any. Projects are stowed while I gratefully slink
away on Nia's heels to escape the barely subdued hilarity of Team Lanvers and my astute girls.
Chores take time and we fill it with finishing dinner up. With experience, Nia has a feel for when
the others are done and headed in. Tonight, things are a little weird though. With the slaughter of
their animals fresh in the minds of us all, no one wants to reach first for the delectable vittles laid
out.
Thankfully, these are good hearty people with wonderful souls.
It's Maria that clears her throat, every eye jumping to her. "I'm not a religious woman, but I'm very
thankful for the animals who are keeping us fed. Thursday was hard for all of us, but knowing
exactly where our food came from makes at least myself all the more grateful for this."
The three kids relax as much as half the adults at the table and pretty much everyone murmurs
agreement to the wise words. Tension broken, we get to the business of dinner and the usual
rambunctiousness. Then it's showers and overnight bags for myself and my girls and trooping over
to the Rambeaus for their sleepover.
It's later than we'd meant to be, the world around us a fathomless blackness that makes my citygirl
heart beat faster. Sam feels it too, I can tell by the way she clings to the hand I slip into hers as we
make our way over to the green house.
What we hadn't expected was the sight of a weary Alex, hair tousled from being washed and left to
dry messily, in loose silk pajama pants and a camisole with real handmade lace at the collar. The
silk is real, and old; out-of-fashion floral prints tracing over the shape of her. I pride myself in
knowing my fabrics.
The contrast makes my mouth dry as all excess moisture flees south. I would have never thought of
this from tough-but-sweet Alex.
Alex's POV
I tried to be cocky about it, especially to Lucy, but they've really rocked my world. Even if I'd try to
deny it, the soft, concerned look in her eyes makes me self-conscious of the blistering feelings that
don't feel like they should be my own.
They're not mine to have.
The feelings or the stunning women that grew them.
I've been playing at my real life as raw as an exposed nerve, jumpy and hyperaware. Now the two
of them are on my doorstep, nervous and needy.
And letting in the night's cold.
Without a word, I stand aside and they get the hint. In a loaded quiet, they hang up warm layers on
the rough hooks I made months ago from old horseshoes I found in the barn. My welds still aren't
great, but they were terrible then and I'd spent hours grinding them into something that didn't look
like iron diarrhea. Then to get the color even, I'd done what I'd seen a lot of DIY-type YouTubers
do, heating them up and dropping them into a bucket of old oil. Which promptly lit on fire. That
had been a great video, with me dying laughing and Brainy having the sense to slap a steel tray
over the flames before they melted the plastic.
The baseboard heater kicks in, the tick-tick-tick of its warming metal loud in the quiet. As much as
I prefer the wood fire, sometimes it needs a little help.
"Jammies," Lena suddenly bursts out a little hoarsely and I can't help but cock my head curiously.
"The jammies. They look comfy. Silk…"
It's kinda cute how rattled she is, Sam a wide-eyed and mute counterpoint beside her.
"Sensitive skin," I remind them gently, our night together thick in the room. "This is the only stuff
big enough left that I haven't torn up. And it's getting thin with use. I just needed the comfort
tonight."
Now they both look like frightened little owlets and Lena's voice is even fainter now.
"Do… do you want us to go?"
For a moment, I almost say yes. It would be easier, less complicated. But being true to myself has
been a lesson happily learned in this wonderful place. With a shake of my head, I open my arms
and they rush to hug me and one another.
"No. I'll always want you to stay."
It's a strangely unintense reunion, me nuzzling their heads and sending them off to raid my closet
for comfies if they want. I putter about my nightly routines, love on my four-footed friends, brush
my teeth, make sure the woodstove is secure for everyone's safety.
Then it's a quiet trade-out with my lovers -I honestly don't know exactly what to call them- to
clean up. My queen-sized bed hardly seems big enough for me and Bissie some nights, but it has to
manage the greatly expanded human presence. As it is, there's barely enough room to move in this
tiny bedroom. Sam comes back first, still quiet as a mouse and just as hesitant. I stay where I am,
relaxed on the bed with my hands resting on my belly. After an indecisive moment, she clambers
over me and takes advantage of my opened left arm, snuggling down into my shoulder.
It feels so good to be held again.
With Lena not yet joining us, I wrap Sam up tight, gripping her lanky frame close. "Missed you,"
she whispers. "We both did."
"Me too." Determined to lighten the mood, I do my best to tease, "think of all the nights we could
have been doing this, if I hadn't been such a gay disaster." It gets the giggle I'm after so I run with
the theme. "Look, I'm notorious for being single-minded in my focus, so I was only paying
attention to one or the other of you, not the duality of both and that you were paying me the
attention I was craving."
Not only does Sam's body relax into the cuddle, but her voice has eases as well. "If only we'd
known a little warm up in the barn would reel you in, we'd have cornered you days ago." Abruptly,
she rises up onto her elbows, flicking aside strands of hair as they make me squint being near my
eyes. "And then you had to go and get me off my game, bossy. I'm normally the toppy sort,
dammit."
There's no heat to the complaint and I'm equally smug as sheepish. "You don't seem to have
minded the results."
"Smug," Sam chastises lightly and gives me a little smooch. The casual affection feels good,
particularly as awkward as we were at the door.
"Well, yeah. You two are amazing."
"You too."
Soft again, Sam traces over my facial features and I relax beneath the gentle caresses. She's such a
firecracker and this slow pace is a nice new facet.
"I admit, at first it was just raw lust, but then we got here and damned if you aren't actually as
likeable as you seem to be onscreen. Potent stuff."
Yeah, I really should keep them at arm's length, try and save myself from the heartbreak that will
come with that RV driving away. But, tugging Sam's head down for a proper kiss -and aware of
Lena watching us from the doorway- I just can't deny being with them.
Part of me wants to talk, or at least keep indulging in these slow, languid kisses that Lena joins us
in. The need in all three of us burns, but it's a banked fire under the exhaustion of separation. Sam
comes to rest half on my torso, Lena snuggled tight to my side. In the blended heat and weight of
us comes a peacefulness that eases us to rest.