Mike & Karen Ch. 14

Jeanie held her phone away from her face and Alexa could now hear the distinctly unpleasant sound of Freja attempting to sing.

"Frotty the Snowman, was a jolly, happy soul!

With a great big prod made of ice and snow,

And two balls made out of coal!

Frotty the Snowman, was as horny as could be!

All the girlies say he could frot and play,

Just the same as you and me!

All through the village, with his prong held in his hand!

Running here and there, all around the square,

Fucking every girl he can!"

Alexa slowed down her fucking, trying to hear what was happening. She could hear a lot of laughter from the bar, but also some not-amused disapproving calls escalating to angry shouts, then the sounds of Freja being interrupted in singing and protesting indignantly.

"And she just got herself escorted out of the bar," Jeanie said, exiting to the noises of the street, where she found her wife angrily yelling at the front door of the establishment she had just been ejected from. "Crowd may've loved it, management not so much, obviously. Taking her shirt off onstage and trying to spin her tits probably didn't help, especially if there were under-agers in the bar."

"Were there any?" Alexa asked pointedly.

"Oh, I don't know!" Jeanie complained. Alexa could almost hear the girl flapping her arms around in distress. "You know I'm no good at judging that sort of thing!"

"No, no you are not," Alexa agreed, having almost stopped bouncing on her nephew's cock. Alex just sighed and waited, putting his arms behind his head and letting his wife concentrate on the conversation. "Neither is Freja, for sure. So, what happened after they stopped her?"

"Well, she tried to bribe the bouncer with a beej, but he didn't go for it. She also tried to coerce the bartender and the manager, but they all said no. She was insistent, but- oh, those blue and red lights approaching can't be good..."

"Hang tight, sweetie," Alexa sighed, shaking her head and dismounting her husband now. "We'll meet you down at the station as soon as possible..."

***

The DeBourne family had gone down to the station together to retrieve their errant friends, with Karen making it abundantly clear to the police that Freja was harmless. When one of the younger officers expressed the opinion that he didn't think Freja was so innocent, Karen took him to task, asking if the officer had at all checked her to see if she'd been subjected to a date rape drug, if she was behaving so erratically. Flustered, the young man admitted he hadn't even considered Freja's safety in those terms.

Before Karen could call the entire division's methods into question, the inspector smoothed everything over and readily released Freja into Karen's custody. There would be no charges. They all knew better than to get Karen DeBourne angry at them.

The six of them were now sitting in a little twenty-four-hour diner, with Freja sitting between Jeanie and Alexa on one side of the table, while Alex and Karen sat on either side of Mike in the other. Karen watched Freja impassively, as the Danish girl seemed rather stunned and out of it. They'd ordered enough greasy food to hopefully retard the further effects of alcohol on Freja's system, but only time would tell.

"So how many of those damnable Lemonade Horrors did you have, if one might inquire?" the bronze-haired woman asked.

"I counted four," Jeanie answered on her wife's behalf, since Freja seemed to not yet have returned from whatever astral plane she was walking on. "I only had one Rainbow Amigo, since I was the driver tonight."

"What's in those things she drinks, anyway?" Alex queried, looking curiously at Freja, who seemed rather pale, forget spaced out. "Are they that strong?"

"It's kinda like a Zombie, with lemonade for the flavour," Jeanie explained. "So alcoholic as fuck, but still girly."

"Count on Freja to never half-ass anything," Alexa sighed, reaching over and stroking her fingers through her catatonic friend's short, wavy hair. "Never has as long as I've known her."

"I feel illsome..." Freja croaked, looking rather green. She slowly leaned over and laid herself out on Jeanie's lap. The brunette made a wry face for a moment, looking rather helpless. Then Freja's body trembled, and Jeanie squeezed her eyes shut, made a whining noise and shuddered in revulsion.

"Annnnd she just honked in my lap," Jeanie announced. "Gross."

"C'mon, Jeanie," Alexa sighed, standing up and pulling Freja out of her seat like a rag doll. "I'll help you, but she's your wife, so you've gotta learn the steps to deal with this."

"You've done this before?" Jeanie asked as she rose, trying to hide the mess in her lap with a napkin.

"More times than I care to remember," Alexa muttered as they put her arms over their shoulders and walk-dragged her between them to the bathroom. "Let's go, pukey..."

The three DeBournes watched the girls disappear into the ladies' room, while customers at other tables tried not to stare.

"Never a dull moment with Alvin, Simon and Theodore around," Karen sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sure she'll be fine by morning, though. The threat of having to drink your pickle brine in order to sober up should keep her focused."

"Gonna be weird not having those two around for the break Alex mused, returning to his hulkaburger. "Still, good for Freja to get back home, and for Jeanie to spend more time with her in-laws."

"She'll be a big hit with them," Mike agreed, nodding. "The Kjaers remind me of my family to a degree, maybe just not as..."

"Boisterous?" his wife suggested.

"That works," Mike said cheerfully. "They'll love Jeanie, and so will my tribe when we visit."

"Any idea when we're doin' that?" Alex asked, having polished off his burger already. Karen subtly shook her head. Alex had his father's appetite. How on earth had she kept them both fed all these years and not driven the Blackwell empire into poverty?

"We're not even thinking about it until after the move into the Manor," Karen answered, pausing in eating her salad. "Maybe it will wait until the semester is over."

"Think the K-Town crew can wait that long?" Alex queried. "They've known Alexa's been back for months now, and they haven't seen her in twenty years."

Karen smiled. "Alex, nobody wants to show off my little sister more than I do, I promise, but Alli needs to adjust and get used to one aspect of her life at a time. The DeBournes will have a big impact on her, intentionally or not."

"You really think so?"

"They did on me," Karen said readily. "I fell in love with them all the moment I met them, and wanted to be one of them. For nearly two years, I couldn't figure out how such wonderful people could be related to someone as infuriating as your father."

"Turned out you were in love with him the whole time and just wouldn't admit it, eh?" Alex chuckled.

"Hush, whelp," Karen said, smirking. "You can be replaced, I'll have you know."

"Yeah, right," Alex snarked. "Like you and dad of all people have any chance whatsoever of producing a better-behaved kid than me. I'm as good as it gets for you, mom."

"He's not wrong, you know," Mike added, shrugging.

"I know..." Karen sighed, looking at the Heavens.

***

December, 1986, a large manor on the Bridle Path...

"It's so good to have you home, darling," Miranda said as she hugged her daughter, who had just entered the grand foyer and dropped her bags on the floor. She didn't actually need anything she'd brought with her, but it didn't feel like a homecoming if she didn't have luggage to haul and drop. "Your friends weren't too devastated to see you leave?"

"They'll be fine, mom," Karen said, returning the hug and sighing inwardly with relief. As much as she was enjoying life on campus, her mother's hugs were some of the most comforting things on earth. If she ever had her own children, she would make sure she had mastered this wonderful art. "Lisa went home to Orillia, while Janet and Mona both have their families in the city."

"What about that large boy, Michael?" asked the older woman, ending the hug but still holding her daughter. She nodded to Jordan, who was standing nearby. The man quickly took Karen's bags and whisked them off to her room.

"I didn't see him off, but I believe Janet did," Karen replied, trying to not make a wry face at her mother's question and possible inference. "The bus station is not far from campus, and it's maybe forty-eight hours to Kapuskasing from Toronto, assuming no weather interference. I'm sure he'll be fine. If the bus breaks down, he can just kill a moose for everyone to eat."

"He's not a caveman, you silly girl," Miranda laughed, poking Karen's nose and then turning to head back into the house, arm-in-arm with her daughter. "I'm sure even he needs looking after once in a while. You said his mother is alive and well?"

"Yes, her name is Anne, and she seems very nice," the bronze-haired girl stated, smiling at the memory of Mike's mother. She'd only met the woman twice, once by invite, but both times were delightful. "She's originally from Head-Smashed-In-Buffalo-Jump in Alberta, and his father, Orion, is from Moose Factory on James Bay."

"Goodness, both places make Kapuskasing seem like a metropolis," Miranda mused, recalling what she knew about both locales, aside from their absurdly wonderful names. "Do they like Toronto, or hate it?"

"They seem awed by it, to be honest," Karen said, recalling her first encounter with the DeBourne clan on campus. "Except for their eldest, of course, who knows the city better than I do by leaps and bounds. I had to learn the subway system in a day, just so he couldn't show me up."

"I'll have to instruct Jordan to tell you 'no' when you ask to be chauffeured somewhere simple," her mother laughed. "But I am glad you're getting a handle on your environs."

"Imagine my surprise when DeBourne told me that the Royal Ontario Museum anchored the north end of the university I attend and I didn't know it," her daughter sighed. "Talk about embarrassing."

"Well, it's not like he walked in on you having sex or anything," Miranda stated as they walked, failing to notice her daughter tacitly looking away and blushing slightly. "Now that would have been embarrassing."

They walked through the main hallway, past the endless procession of portraits of Karen's ancestors, all of whom seemed to be looking down at her, assessing her. Objectively, of course, she knew she was smarter than any of them, more talented and skilled than any predecessor, her father and mother included. But she still felt the weight of her family's storied history on her shoulders, trying to convince herself that the expectations were a blessing, and not a burden.

She also noticed that the entire house, normally flawless in its expression of dignity and heritage, was elegantly appointed for Christmas, trimmed with red, green, gold and silver, and yet somehow not looking like Santa's elves had vomited all over the house. The speakers subtly set in a nearby recess in the wall were playing the Burl Ives tune 'Have A Holly, Jolly Christmas!', one of her mother's favourite Christmas tunes.

"Jonathon, look what I found lounging in our foyer like a little match girl!" Miranda chimed as the two women entered the study. Her father was resting against the mantle, one hand in a jacket pocket as he examined a vase that Karen believed was Shang Dynasty in origin. He was wearing a crisp Armani suit, of course, as opposed to her mother's near-heretical tie-dye dress, which was a riot of Christmas colours. Karen also knew that her father loved this bohemian chaos in her mother and was the only person on the planet he tolerated it from.

"Indeed," the Blackwell patriarch said, standing up from the wall and approaching the women. He kissed Karen on the cheek and then hugged her, welcoming her home in a quiet voice. "Merry Christmas, kitten."

"Merry Christmas to you too, daddy," Karen whispered, tears stinging at the corner of her eyes. Her normally formal father relented somewhat around the holidays, although he was still wearing a suit. The only exception was Christmas Day itself, when he was compelled to wear whatever outrageous sweater his wife had knitted for him. It was a high point of Karen's holiday, in fact.

"I assume you have no homework or study matters to interfere with our holiday?" Jonathon asked, holding her hands and looking into her eyes. He had the cool blue eyes of the Blackwells, and the ash-blond hair, and yet his daughter's eyes were completely unique, unknown in either his family or the Gordons. They were an astonishing golden-amber, like those of a wolf or a hawk. He'd never seen the like, and people who didn't know Karen were often unnerved by her gaze. He didn't blame them.

"No, daddy," she giggled, smirking, enjoying this so very rare banter. "I've finished all my studies, and even resisted the temptation to bring any materials home with me for casual perusal."

Her father nodded. "You might be afforded some opportunity, because our company's server and net connections to several campuses is stable now, including MIT and Stanford. I might use your services in accessing their Physics resources, to see if they're in need of further fine-tuning."

"I welcome the challenge," she said, nodding. "We have two weeks, after all, and there's only so much Christmas goose one can eat, and eggnog one can drink. Do we have any guests planned, family or otherwise?"

"Your uncle Alistair and his wife Margery might come by, I wager, probably on Christmas Eve, to say hello. Your mother tells me the bishop will make an appearance at some point, probably looking for donations of this year's vintage of wine from the Napa brand."

"He does seem rather fond of those," the young woman agreed, smiling and nodded. "As long as I have time left for my parents, then I'll happily entertain these intruders, father."

"Tonight, though," he announced, standing back and looking at the two women who meant more to him than the entire business empire he ran. "I will be escorting you both to an exquisite dinner at the Empire Club, and then a night of dancing and general festivities. And yes, Karen, you will be allowed to drink as you see fit."

Karen smiled in delight. "Thank you, daddy! Save at least five dances for me?"

"I think I can make that commitment," he said, nodding as he hugged them both.

***

Kapuskasing, 1986...

The fearsome, driving snow was no deterrent to what seemed like dozens of people streaming out of the house and charging through the blizzard to greet Mike as he approached his home. Wearing a faded jean jacket, an old Ozzy Osbourne t-shirt, and carrying his backpack in his hand, he trudged through the snow toward his family's residence, having walked from where the bus dropped him off downtown.

Instantly mobbed, he was hugged from every direction by his siblings and cousins, the foremost being his brother Connor, and Connor's twin sister, Veronica. His youngest brother, Josh, hugged him from behind, but probably to use him as a shield from the savage wind.

"I can't believe you walked all the way from the bus stop downtown, you giant lug!" his sister Ronnie shouted over the snowstorm as everyone began hurrying him back toward the house. "Even you're not immune to weather!"

"I didn't want anyone to have to hazard the roads in this garbage," Mike replied as he was pushed up the stairs and into the house. He had to admit, he was feeling instantly warmer after the ordeal of the forty-five minute walk from downtown Kapuskasing. "Wasn't that big a deal."

"Michael, it's not nice to lie to your little brothers and sister like that," his mother scolded as she walked up, shooing everyone out of the way and wrapping a warm blanket around her titan son with her daughter's help. "Now come inside and stand by the fire!"

Mike now hobbled awkwardly toward the large living room and waited, with Ronnie hugging him from behind, refusing to let go until she felt him warming up again. He had to admit, he appreciated how they cared for him. Various cousins were rubbing their hands against his shirt and exposed skin, doing what they could to banish the cold.

He looked around, noticing that even the hallway was a riot of Christmas colours, with gaudy décor everywhere. He smirked as he thought of how quickly exposure to this Chernobyl-level of holiday cheer would snap Karen Gordon's mind.

His father had built this domicile, along with his brothers and cousins, as part of his marriage to Annette Platz, promising her family that he would give her the house of her dreams. It was large, certainly, and constructed almost entirely by DeBourne hands, with rooms for their future family and relatives as well. It was a running joke in Kapuskasing that the DeBournes composed half the town's population and owned half the property. It wasn't true, but the men were so large that it could often seem that way.

"Where's dad?" he asked as they made him stand directly in front of the fire, which Connor attempted to turn into a conflagration by feeding more wood into the flames. Their efforts were not in vain, because Mike began to feel a tingle of warmth in his icy fingers and on his cheeks. The ice in his hair was melting and trickling down his neck, and Josh dutifully wiped at it with a towel he was holding.

What had he done to deserve such an amazing family?

"He's with Phil and Mordecai out in the back shed, getting more wood, because the weather's supposed to get worse, believe it or not," his mother replied, poking at the inferno Connor had started to control it before he burned her lovely house down. "I'm hoping they're doing okay out on the reserve."

"Whatever the weather, I'll head out there tomorrow, see if there's anything I can do to help." Mike stated, nodding. He hadn't been back to the reserve since his good friend Kee had gone missing and was found murdered.

"We'll all go," Connor said, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "Where my big brother goes, we all follow!"

"As long as the ladies stay here with me," Anne announced, holding up a finger. "I'm cooking for who knows how many DeBournes for the next two weeks, and I'll need the help as much as anyone."

"Mom!" Josh and Ronnie both protested hotly.

"Fine," she sighed, shaking her head. "Ronnie, you can go help on the reserve. Josh, you can stay behind and help me cook with your cousins."

"Yay!" they both squealed in glee, clapping. Mike chuckled to himself, never ceasing to be amazed at his family. Ronnie, such a tomboy, always willing to hang with the guys and mix it up, even though she was determined to be an aesthetician and own a spa here in town. And Josh, the youngest, and so completely different from the other DeBourne men, aside from the blonde hair and blue eyes- slight of build, and even rather effeminate, he had confessed he was gay soon after entering high school, and the DeBournes had been lobbying to get gay marriage legalized ever since. Mike would do whatever it took to make sure his little brother was happy.

"The ruckus I heard from the backyard can only mean one thing," rumbled a voice from the hallway, making Mike grin. "It means that my eldest has finally graced us with his presence."

"Good to see you too, dad," Mike replied as his father entered the room, followed by his younger brothers, all of them carrying split wood for the fire. "Yeah, it's me, with my newly-acquired city slicker ways, back to corrupt the impressionable youth of Kapuskasing."

"And not a moment too soon," Orion DeBourne grunted as he deposited his cords of wood next to the fireplace. "Good to see you, son. This place could use some livening up."