Date: Wed, 16 May 2012 20:43:56 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com>
Subject: New Shower, Part 24 - Next Generation

This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of
this nature offends you then you should not read this story.  Additionally,
if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read
this story by law.
  This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to person's
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.
  The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it
has been posted, without the consent of the author.

Mark Stevens

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Mark


New Shower, Part 24 -- Next Generation


	Sunday morning the four of us were sitting at the breakfast table
enjoying food prepared by both Dad and Uncle Dennis when the telephone
rang. It was my mother. Dad took the call and when he returned to the table
he smiled at everyone.
	"They're leaving the city around one o'clock; that should put them
here at three or so."
	"I guess we need to get our ass in gear and start the cleaning," I
replied.
	"Looks like it," my uncle agreed.
	"I'm guessing it's out of the question to remain naked?" Brandon
asked me.
	"All good things come to an end," I told him.
	"Or at least put on hold," Dad pointed out.
	We finished our meal and split up in different directions through
out the house. Brandon helped me whip the kitchen back in shape while Dad
and Dennis did a complete make over in the upstairs bedrooms. They had
their job cut out for them; the scent of cum hung heavily in the air. It
was impossible to miss.
	By the time the kitchen was back in order, and we were on our way
upstairs to put clothes on, Dad had the sheets in the wash.
	"I hope you two are on your way upstairs to get dressed," he called
from the laundry room.
	"On our way," I called and followed my son up the stairs.
	I was in my room dressing when Brandon knocked on my door.
	"Hey, you," I greeted as he entered the room. "What's up?"
	"I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the weekend."
	I threw a shirt over my head. "Same here," I assured him with a
smile.
	"Just knowing you trust me," he added.
	I walked over and pulled my son to me. "I trust you completely,
Brandon."
	I pulled him to me in a hug. "I would trust you with my life," I
said pulling back.
	This time it was Brandon who kissed me first. He brushed my lips
lightly with his own and said, "I really love you, Dad."
	"I love you, too. So fucking much," I added quietly.
	There was another knock on the door and Uncle Dennis joined us in
the room.
	"What are you two up to?"
	"We're actually behaving," I said with a grin.
	"Yeah, I believe that."
	"It's true, Uncle Dennis," Brandon hurried to assure our uncle.
	"Your dad says to put these on your bed," he said handing me some
sheets. "I've already changed the ones on my bed, as well as your dad's."
	"I'll help you," Brandon said taking the sheets from me.
	An hour later we had the house completely back in shape. To the
naked eye it looked as if the house had been completely empty the entire
weekend. In fact, I was almost sure it was cleaner than when the weekend
started.
	The four of us met in the living room when everything was finished,
even to the laundry. It had been folded and returned to the linen
closet. Dad had mentioned that his favorite pro football team was playing,
and we sat down to watch it.
	Dad brought out beer for Dennis and me, and a coke for Brandon.
	"Sorry, Son," he said giving him a smile. "I think for now you had
better stick with coke."
	"Ah, Grandpa," he grinned as he took the drink.
	"Your time will come."
	We soon became so involved with the game, even Brandon, that we
lost track of the time. It was a really close game with an even tighter
distance between the two scores. The clock on the score board had just
buzzed announcing a three point victory for my father's team when there was
a knock on the back door.
	"The women are here," Dennis announced getting up from his chair.
	"Why in the world would they knock?" I wondered out loud.
	"Too many packages, I'm sure," Dad grinned and hurried to open the
door.
	Standing in the door was not my mother; nor was it my aunt. Instead
of being greeted by two women loaded down with packages, it was John
Thomas, the chief of police in our small town.
	"John, how in the hell are you?" Dad greeted him warmly. "Come
inside."
	Suddenly I had a gut feeling something was terribly wrong. My brain
became consumed with some kind of fear.
	I watched as John stepped inside the house and remove his hat from
his head. I had known the man my entire life, and never had I seem him look
so serious.
	"Dave, Dennis, there's been an accident."
	I saw the look in his eyes, and the feeling of fear inside my body
doubled in size.
	"Mom and Aunt Linda, are they all right?" I could hardly get the
words out.
	"They've been taken to Fairview Hospital in the city."
	I heard my father ask if they were okay. I tired to look at the
chief's face, but I couldn't force my eyes away from the floor.
	"We need to hurry," was all John said.
	"God, it must be pretty bad," Dennis moaned.
	"We need to hurry," John repeated. "It's an hour's trip," he
reminded.
	"You're going with us?" I asked.
	He nodded. "I am," he said quietly.
	The fear inside my body tripled in size.
	"I can make the trip a bit faster than you can," he said.
	We left the house without even taking time to look for jackets and
headed for the police car. Dad sat up front beside John while Dennis,
Brandon and I crowded in the back seat. The trip would end up being the
longest trip of my life.



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	The trip was made in silence as John Thomas put miles behind
us. Everyone in the police car seemed preoccupied with thoughts and not a
word was spoken. I looked out my window but my eyes saw nothing. Lost in my
own thoughts, I jumped when I felt something touch me.
	I looked down and discovered my son's hand on my leg.
	"You okay, Dad?" he asked giving me a smile.
	I reached down and placed my hand over his. "I am now," I assured
him softly.
	I watched as he took his other hand and placed it on our uncle's
leg.
	"How about you, Uncle Dennis?" he asked. "Are you okay?"
	"I'm okay; just worried," he added.
	Not another word was spoken for the rest of the trip. Up front, Dad
rode next to the chief remaining silent and unmoving. John was silent as
well. It was as if no one dared speak or had the ability to break the
silence that filled the inside of the police car.
	Once inside the city, John turned his flashing lights on and
continued to speed along the city streets. He hurried up one street and
across another until, turning this way, and then another, a tall building
loomed in front of us; Fairview Hospital. John made a quick turn beside a
sign that read "Emergency" and came to a fast stop beside an entrance to
the building.
	"Let's check with Emergency," he said stepping out from behind the
wheel.
	We hurried inside the building and let him do the talking. He
greeted a woman sitting behind a desk and explained the situation to
her. We stood there while she pulled something up on her computer.
	Looking from the screen to John, she said, "Please have a seat over
there." She pointed to a row of seats along the wall. "I'll have someone
come speak with you."
	We had hardly taken our seats when a man came to greet us. He told
us his name and that he was one of the doctors on duty.
	"Let me take you to your wife," he said to Dad.
	"What about my wife?" Dennis asked the man.
	The doctor, who introduced himself as Jerry Gibbons, smiled and
said, "I'll take you back next."
	I stood to my feet. "Can I come with you? I'm the woman's son."
	The doctor looked me over and then said, "Give me a moment to speak
with your father; I'll be back for you."
	I watched as Dad disappeared through a door with the man. Suddenly
I felt so alone.
	"Something's not right," Dennis suddenly said. "I don't like it."
	I leaned over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure
everything's all right," I said, trying to assure him. "He will talk with
both you and Dad when he can."
	It seemed like hours, rather than minutes, before Dad walked
through the door. He had such a strained look on his face that I jumped to
my feet.
	"What's wrong, Dad?" I asked.
	"Your mother is waiting for you, Steve."
	His words wore so soft I could hardly hear them.
	"Stop at the desk; they'll take you to your mother."
	I hurried through the door, but not before I saw my father, looking
very tired and drained, take a seat beside my uncle.
	Once behind the closed door, I hurried along the hallway and
stopped before a desk. I spoke to the woman and explained who I was.
	The lady gave me the biggest smile ever and told me to follow her.
	And I did. As I walked slowly behind the woman, I was reminded of
one of those movies where the character moves so slowly it seems to take
forever to make any tracks. She finally stopped in front of a closed door.
	"Your mother is in this room," she said and turned to leave.
	I put my hand on the wooden door, but suddenly I felt helpless; I
had no strength to push against the door. I took a deep breath and managed
to push it open. I stepped inside the room and saw my mother lying there in
a hospital bed.
	I hurried across the floor and called her name.
	Mom opened her eyes and stared at me for a moment. All the color
seemed to have left her body. Looking up at me from the bed, she was as
pale as a ghost.
	Finally she spoke. "Steve."
	I waited, but she had closed her eyes again.
	I reached down and picked up her hand. Her skin was so cold it
really frightened me.
	"Mom, I love you," I whispered. "Try and get some rest, okay?"
	Her eyes remained closed, and for a moment I thought she had gone
back to sleep. Then they opened again, and she turned her head where she
could see my face.
	"Steve, I need you to promise me something."
	"Anything, Mom."
	"Promise that you will take good care of your dad. He really loves
you."
	"I will always take care of Dad," I said.
	"I know the two of you share a very special bond. He's going to
need you now more than ever. Please, promise me," she added softly.
	"Mom."
	"Promise me," she repeated her voice a little stronger.
	"I promise to take care of him until you can come home," I finally
said.
	She shook her head ever so slightly. "No," she said.
	I looked at her. "No?"
	"I'm not coming home, Steve."
	I couldn't keep the sob that escaped from my throat.
	"Yes, you will, Mom," I said. "You just need lots of rest and
care. You're going to be good as new."
	"No, Steve, I'm not; your father has already accepted it."
	"Just rest, Mom," I whispered. "You will get well."
	Again she shook her head. "No, it's settled. Out of my hands," she
added softly.
	The tears were flowing down my cheeks as I felt her fingers wrap
around mine. "You've got to be strong, Steve," she said. "No one has told
me, but I know that Linda didn't make it; she was gone before help
arrived."
	I had no control of the tears as they began streaming down my
cheeks. I just could not help but sob above my mother's bed.
	She suddenly squeezed my fingers. "Steve, I want you to do
something for me; I want you to kiss me and send your dad to me. Please,"
she added.
	I leaned over and placed my lips on her cheek. Giving her a kiss, I
rose up and said, "I love you, Mom. Always know that."
	"You've been the best son," she said, praising me for the last
time. "Take care of Brandon," she added very softly.
	Hearing my son's name, I felt as if my insides had been jarred. In
the grief I was feeling, I had not given any thought to my son and how he
would accept what was happening.
	"Would you like to see him?" I asked.
	She gave me a tender smile. "I would," she said. "I think its best
he remember me the way I was. Now, please, send for your dad."
	"I love you, Mom," I told her again.
	"I love you, Steve. I always will."
	I gave her one last smile, and with tears flowing down my cheeks, I
made my way down the hall in search of my family.
	In the waiting room I told Dad my mother wanted to see him. After
he disappeared through the door once more, I took a seat beside my uncle.
	"She's gone, Kid," he said, his shoulders shaking.
	"I know, Dennis; I know."
	I pulled my uncle to me and hugged him tightly, wishing with
everything I had in me, that this nightmare would go away.
	"Dad, is Grandma going to be okay?"
	I let go of my uncle and looked at Brandon. Words failed me; I
shook my head."
	"Oh, God," he said standing to his feet.
	I held out my arms, and he went into them. He began sobbing as if
his heart was broken in half. I remained silent, trying to comfort my son
and failing miserably to do so.
	Still holding him tightly to me, I looked at Dennis. "You should go
see your sister."
	"I don't know."
	I was silent for a moment. Finally I spoke. "I think you
should. You might regret it later," I added.
	Dennis finally stood to his feet and walked through the door
disappearing from sight.
	When we were alone, Brandon asked, "Is Grandma really going to
die?"
	Tears still in my eyes, I managed to give him a nod. "Unless some
sort of miracle happens," I told him.
	John Thomas walked into the waiting room.
	"Have you seen your mother?" he asked.
	"Yes. Dad and Dennis are back with her now."
	"Dennis been told his wife didn't make it?"
	"Yes." Another sob escaped from me.
	"God, I hate when good people get hurt this way."
	The room became silent then as we waited for my father and uncle to
return. Half an hour later the door swung open once more and they rejoined
us.
	Dad's eyes were filled with tears. "She's gone, guys," he
whispered.
	The words he spoke caused our world to come to a stand still. Life,
as we knew it, would never be the same for us.



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	The next few days became lost, swallowed up by a thick black
fog. We made several decisions during that time, relying on each other for
strength and courage to complete each day. We had a double memorial service
for my mom and aunt, and many of their friends attended and expressed to us
over and over how deeply these two women had been loved by their friends
and neighbors.
	I was also surprised to receive a telephone call from my X-wife,
Debbie. She called on Monday following the accident. Evidently a mutual
friend we still shared called and informed her of the accident.
	"I thought a lot of your mother," she told me over the
telephone. "Would it be all right with you if I attended her service?"
	Shocked and full of bitterness I really wanted to tell her to "fuck
off". However, she was right; she had thought a lot of my mom while the two
of us had been married.
	I told her I had no problem with her attending the service. "It's
going to be a double service," I informed her.
	"How is Brandon handling things?" she asked.
	"How do you think, Debbie?" I couldn't hide the anger I felt. "Mom
was someone he loved very much; someone who has been here for him almost as
long as he can remember."
	For a second we both heard the loud sound of silence. Then, "Maybe
we should discuss that," she finally said.
	"Discuss what, Debbie?"
	"Perhaps I should help with Brandon now that you have lost your
mom."
	"Fuck you, Debbie," I shouted and ended the conversation.
	"Was that my mother?"
	At the sound of my son's voice, I turned and discovered him
standing behind me. I hadn't heard him come into the room.
	I gave him a nod. "I think she's coming to the memorial service."
	"You've got to be kidding me!"
	"She asked if she could; I told her it wasn't a problem for me."
	"Sure sounded like it was."
	His words reminded me of what she had said. Aloud, I said, "I told
her if she was okay with it, I would have no problem either."
	Brandon turned to leave. "Okay," he said.
	"Brandon, wait."
	He turned around and faced me once more.
	"Are you all right living here with Grandpa and me?"
	I could hardly take the look on my son's face.
	"Why the hell would you ask that, Dad?"
	"Brandon, do you ever miss your mom?"
	I was startled to see the look of hatred in his eyes. "I use to
miss her; a lot."
	"Use to? What about now?"
	"Not in the least. Like I said, I use to miss her. Now, I hardly
ever think about her."
	I forced my lips to turn up in a smile. "I just want you to be
happy, Brandon. When this is all over with," I added.
	My son gave me a kiss on the mouth. "Dad, I am completely happy
living with you."
	I kissed him back. "I'm so glad to hear that."
	I thought of something else. "Brandon, I'm sure I don't need to
remind you of this, but I will anyway. No one needs to know about our life
here with Grandpa, especially your mother. Okay?"
	"Understand totally, Dad. You need say nothing more."
	I smiled at him tenderly. "I love you, Son."
	"Ditto," he grinned and left the room.
	The day of the memorial service people from all over the country
side dropped in to pay their respects. Dennis had packed a bag, and for
now, he was staying at the house with us. He didn't want to be alone in his
house, and it wasn't necessary, since most of Mom's friends had been
Linda's as well. It was a very emotional day for all of us, and when it
finally ended, I think we felt relief.
	Debbie had attended the service, and at Dad's request, she had sat
with the family. That would have definitely not been my choice, but my
father had requested it, and I hadn't the heart to disagree with
him. Actually things went rather smoothly, considering we hadn't seen each
other in several years. I did my best to be as congenial as possible, and
she did likewise. The only glitch came as she was getting ready to
leave. She had told Brandon good bye and we were in the kitchen when she
brought something up for discussion.
	"Steve, I realize how hard it's going to be on you guys with your
mom gone. I really do," she added, I'm sure, what she thought was a tone of
encouragement. "That's why I'm thinking Brandon should come spend some time
with me. At least while your family is adjusting to change."
	Suddenly the entire day and how smoothly it had run with her in the
picture seemed to disappear from my mind.
	"Debbie, you do remember you were the one who deserted our son, do
you not? When he needed you the most, you decided you needed a break; tired
of being tied down, I believe was the way you put it," I reminded her.
	"I realize I was wrong. I can't undo what's been done, Steve. What
I can do is help to right the situation."
	"After your phone call on Monday, I talked with Brandon; asked him
if he would like to spend some time with you."
	"And?"
	"You could ask him yourself."
	Both Debbie and I turned to discover our son standing in the
doorway.
	Forcing the shock from her face, his mother asked, "All right,
Brandon, how would you feel about coming to stay with me for a while?"
	"I wouldn't," he answered her sharply. "You didn't want me when I
was young, so why the hell would I want you now?"
	Debbie took a deep breath and headed for the door. "I realize
things are unsettled now with everything that has happened. We can talk
about this some other time." She reached to open the door.
	"No."
	The one single word flowing across my son's lips came out in a
whisper, yet its force was felt by both his mother and me.
	"No?"
	"Forget it; I'm staying here with Dad and Grandpa."
	Brandon left the room quickly, disappearing from sight.
	"As I said, Steve, we'll give this time to settle and then we can
decide something."
	"Can't you fucking get it through your head? You wrote him off
years ago; now, it's his turn."
	"We'll see," she said quietly and shut the door behind her.
	I hurried up the stairs and knocked on his bedroom door. "May I
come in, Brandon?" I called.
	I didn't wait for him to respond. I opened the door and stood
inside his room. My son was crossways the bed, sobbing, his heart
shattered. I hurried to him.
	I fell on the bed beside him, his body touching mine. "Can I hold
you?"
	Without saying a word, Brandon turned and reached out to him.
	I pulled him close to me. "It's okay," I whispered in his ear.
	"I don't want to go with her, Dad."
	"You're not going anywhere, Brandon; I can promise you that."
	My son being much older in maturity than years looked at me. "Are
you absolutely sure, Dad? As a parent, can't she make me see her?"
	I decided in that moment to be as honest with him as I possibly
could. Still holding him, I said, "Brandon, anything is possible. I know
that; you know that. If your mother decides to, she could, I suppose, get
some kind of court order that you spend some time with her. However, I hope
to God she doesn't go that route. I don't think it would be a very pretty
sight for her. In the end, who the hell really knows? For now, let's just
look at it this way. You're here with me; with Grandpa; and that's where
you're going to stay. Other than that, we'll just do whatever it takes,
okay?"
	"Okay, Dad."
	We lay there for a time, neither of us talking. I continued holding
him, and he made no move to pull away. The past few days had left us both
physically drained and emotionally empty. We soon drifted to sleep, both
lost in a mixture of sweet and sour dreams.
	When I opened my eyes much later the room was completely dark. At
my side Brandon lay sleeping; he was still in the same position as when I
had joined him earlier that afternoon.
	I rose up and looked at the clock on the table beside the bed. It
was after midnight. We had been sleeping for several hours!
	I felt his body move next to me.
	"Dad?"
	"Yes, Brandon?"
	"I was just making sure you were still here."
	"I will always be here for you, Son," I assured him. "Are you
hungry? Do you want to go down for a bite to eat?"
	"Not really. I'm just so tired."
	"Why don't we pull the covers back and crawl in bed," I suggested.
	"I'd like that."
	I stood to my feet and began pulling the covers back. The bed shook
as Brandon jumped between the sheets. I quickly pulled my shirt and slacks
off and joined him in bed.
	When he felt my body next to him, Brandon said, "Dad, you've got
shorts on."
	I touched him and said, "You don't."
	"Can we snuggle?"
	I quickly reached down and pulled my shorts off. I gave them a toss
and went back under the covers.
	"I do love to snuggle," I assured him.
	I turned on my side and felt my son immediately push into me, his
warm body against mine. I leaned back and immediately felt his cock slide
along my crack. It was instantly hard, its touch causing my skin to burn.
	"I see you feel the same way about snuggling I do," I teased him.
	"Are you okay with it, Dad?"
	"Brandon, I will always be okay with this."
	"I just didn't want to upset you."
	"Upset me? Why would you think this would upset me?"
	"You know, with Grandma and all."
	"Brandon, the thing with Grandma makes me want to be with you in
this way. I don't know exactly why, but us being together like this seems
to help the situation."
	We remained in the same position for a long time, just talking and
enjoying the feel; his body against mine. It felt so comfortable being
together the way we were. Suddenly I felt him beginning to slide along my
crack. I could feel the slippery trail of pre cum as it coated the hair
that grew there. For a while I said nothing; I remained silent, allowing
him to enjoy the pleasure he was feeling.
	Then I said, "Brandon?"
	"Yeah."
	"You think you would like to fuck me?"
	"I – yeah – I'm not sure."
	I couldn't keep from smiling. "So, which is it?"
	"I'm not sure what to do."
	"I'll guide you," I assured him. "I have no doubt that once you're
inside me you will know exactly what to do."
	"Yes."
	"Yes?"
	"Yes, I want to fuck you."
	I pulled away from him and leaning on my elbow, I opened the drawer
beneath the alarm clock. I brought out a bottle of lube and handed it to
him.
	"Squeeze some of this out in your hand and work it up inside my
ass," I directed him.
	Back on my side, I waited for the touch of his hand to my ass. I
felt him work a wet slippery finger inside me; I couldn't help but shiver.
	"Am I doing it right?"
	"Oh, yeah," I breathed. "Just work plenty inside my hole," I told
him.
	He began pushing the slippery gel inside me; it felt so good I
couldn't keep from pushing into him, forcing his finger deeper inside my
hole.
	"Now, when you have enough in me squeeze more out of the bottle and
coat your cock with it. Put it on pretty heavily," I instructed him.
	"How will I know when I have enough?" he asked.
	"Trust me, you'll know," I said. "Just make sure you put enough on
that lets you enter me easily. Better for both of us," I added.
	I felt the bed move as he began coating his dick. Then he tossed it
on the bed beside us. I felt his slick cock in my ass crack, and I reached
back behind me. I guided him up against my slippery hole, placing the head
at the entrance. I paused for a moment and then pushed gently into his
body, causing the head to work its way inside me and stop. I heard him
sigh.
	I let another minute pass and then I said, "Okay, Brandon, I'm
going to push against you. Just relax and enjoy the moment."
	I forced my body to relax and leaned back, forcing him the rest of
the way inside me. I knew he was all the way in, buried balls deep, because
I could feel his pubic hair rubbing against my skin.
	"Fuck," he whispered in my ear.
	"Feels absolutely awesome, doesn't it?"
	"Oh, yeah."
	"When you're ready, start working in and out my hole," I told him.
	"Oh, I'm ready," he said and began moving back and forth, in and
out of my wet hole.
	"Didn't I tell you once you were inside of me you would know what
to do?"
	He didn't answer. Instead, he went deeper inside my hairy hole. I
felt him shudder.
	"Everything all right back there?"
	"No. I'm ready to cum."
	"That's okay; fill my ass with your load."
	"I'm not ready to shoot."
	"Stop and give yourself a break then."
	"I can't. It feels so fucking good."
	Before I could say another word, I felt his cock swell up inside
me; I knew he was about to shoot his creamy load deep inside my ass. I
forced the muscles of my ass to clamp down on his cock. That sent him over
the edge.
	"Fuck," he cried out.
	I shuddered when I felt the first splash of his hot cum spray the
walls of my ass. It was followed by several more waves, and suddenly, my
hole was full of his cum. With my son's dick still buried deep inside my
cum-filled hole; his cum; made me reach for my own leaking dick and jack
it. He had me so fucking hot that just a few strokes later I was shooting
my own creamy juice. My cum shot in my chest hair and slowly began snaking
its way through the wet matted curls.
	I placed my hand in the thick glob of cum on my chest, and holding
it next to me, pushed hard into my son. I felt his still hard dick go
deeper into his spunk.
	"I'm sorry, Dad."
	I could hear sadness in Brandon's voice.
	"What the hell for?" I asked.
	"I wanted the first time with you to be special."
	"What are you talking about? It was special," I assured him. "I'll
never forget it."
	"I'm sure you won't. Hell, I didn't even last one minute."
	I pushed myself away from him, forcing his cock out of my
hole. Some of his cum crawled out as well and ran down the back of my
leg. I rolled over and faced my son.
	"Listen to me," I said rather gruffly, "This was wonderful; an
experience I will never forget. When you think back on it, let me reassure
you; you will remember it in the same way. Yes, it didn't take you long to
shoot your load. Don't worry about it, okay? Your first time usually
doesn't last very long because it's all new to you. Trust me, once you get
use to being inside of me, your body will adapt, and you will last
longer. It won't be long until I'm begging you to fill me with your cum."
	"If you say so."
	I could tell by his tone he was still skeptical.
	"Well, I do say so, so, accept it and be quiet."
	I turned over with my back next to him; he wrapped his arms around
my stomach.
	"What a mess you have," he told me.
	"Front and back, thanks to you," I pointed out.
	"I love you, Dad."
	"Brandon, you are my world. I want you to always know that, okay?"
	"I do, Dad."
	"I love you, Son. Good night," I said and closed my eyes.
	Even though our world had been over turned and completely changed
in the last few days, for now, for the moment, all was right with the
world.



End Part 24


I realize this chapter has taken a different turn, and I hope my readers
have enjoy it.

Mark Stevens