Thankful slept undisturbed and it was nearly time again for school. In a while, Trixi would rush the boys out of the house. And before they left, Louis suggested that Opa and his dad assist Oona to understand and ultimately defeat the “witch lady.”
“Lucia is thousands of times more powerful than Opa,” Oona said. “There is no comparison with their spirit-ness. Lucia possesses substance far beyond the composition of your Opa and, I fear, other such spirits I have known. And the signs are everywhere.” Her reply, though a bit course, was intended to be instructional. Oona was most appreciative of the boy’s support and caring, but once again she was consumed with another great challenge. In her heart of hearts Oona felt she was essentially alone in this impending battle, and with the added burden of protecting the innocent. The witch toiled now through a perpetual fog.
Oona drew up a concoction of powders and substances to diminish Lucia before she could cast new horrors on Thankful or the others. Oona did not dare disturb the child-witch who had been thoroughly depleted by Lucia. And over the next few days, while Thankful mostly slept peacefully, it became increasingly possible that Lucia’s conjuring had been brought under control, even without the benefit of their Heavenly supporters. Each passing day brought additional hope that Oona had outwitted the witch and disrupted her. And while she was outwardly and visibly encouraged that the haunting was over, Oona had serious reservations which she dared not share with a soul.
After one week’s exile and the last few days at home, Oona felt as though she never left. Trixi, who was totally enthralled by Oona, loved her from a distance and stayed in the loft. She helped KC with the kids while Oona tried to focus on Thankful’s safety and the defeat of the Dark Witch.
Trixi thought dreamily she would stay at the Westbridge house until she departed for the spring semester at Suffolk University. Trixi’s presence was both tense and welcome; all three adults were in some state of conflict.
Near the end of the week, Oona grew self-assured and had seemingly lifted herself out of the haze she had been in, at least for a while. Optimism grew that Oona banished Lucia “back to the box.” But then Oona’s mind and body descended into a fog, a terrible fog which only got worse. Blind to her passions, she had little rest and even less sleep. Her body and mind grew thoroughly depleted.
Thankful rose from her slumber on Friday morning. Though she remained frightened of Lucia, her condition had improved somewhat. She was alert and on her feet.
In the kitchen Oona paused, swallowed, and spoke weakly. “What did you do with my frilly dress?”
Thankful replied, “Buried it?” she asked, more than she told.
“Where?” Oona was stone cold and very deliberate. “Where did you bury it?”
“In a graveyard.”
“Where, where? In what graveyard?” Oona rose to her feet.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’?”
“I mean I don’t know.” Thankful cried loudly. Her mother took her arm in a calming way. Trixi stood nearby.
“Child: What did you do with my dress?” Oona asked more harshly. She had turned red with panic and rage and looked to be about ready to break out of her skin.
“Stop!” yelled KC.
Thankful screamed and ran out of the kitchen. The girl seemed completely unhinged. Her improvement was evidently short lived. And though still there were doubts, Louis discerned that the evil had indeed departed the house. In time everyone rallied around Oona who they believed had banished the spirit. They believed because they needed to believe.
And if awkward at times, with both Trixi and Oona at the house, things did settle down over the weekend. Oona was drawn back to Boston and Cambridge, and in careful coordination with KCs schedule, the three women would do quite well to manage the kids and assure that no one was left unattended. By Sunday the deepness of their personal and professional relationships allowed trust to rebuild. And they reconciled over past sins and indiscretions.
Thankful’s improvement was such that KC and Thankful traveled to Westport to celebrate a schoolmate’s combination Birthday – Christmas Party. Dramatic with her turn-around and after a week in bed and out of school, Thankful had an “awesome” time, and her butterfly face paint, so perfectly applied, projected that same spirit.
As Mom and Thankful drove home, the tenor of their choppy conversations were all positive. It was a beautiful mild day for mid-December. A new year was on the way. The party had been great fun; Thankful had seen her friends. They and school were emotional anchors for her, just as the child’s family tried to be. As Thankful dosed, KC thought about her kids; all active in extra-curricular activities; all friendly and courteous, never shy. And while Andy was gone, her husband remained a part of their family. The boys were rich with friends nearby. There was Oona, with her fully engaged libido, and Trixi, and those two were probably alone together.
Although they were being watched.
“I wanted you since the first day I cast eyes on you,” Trixi confided to her lover.
Oona could not quite recall when exactly that was, but she knew Trixi meant years ago when they lived in Virginia. Baby sitter for the Boehmes. Exhausted, Oona remained mindful of the Dark Witch and her efforts to exhaust it before she herself fell to the ground. And she knew she might never have the pleasure again.
So they glided into their passion quite easily. There was an evenness with their positions until they descended into full, ferocious lovemaking.
“Put your full weight on me and bear down.” They were naked above the covers and the grinding motion commenced.
Then they reversed positons and, now under her subject, Oona commanded, “Grind yourself into me, ma chère.” A few minutes passed and Oona skillfully employed her five fingers of one hand to play with her conquest while her other hand went to work. Oona kneaded Trixi’s buttocks and her ring finger playfully circled and occasionally entered her anus. Such a glorious diversion! There were muffled cries. Trixi convulsed repeatedly until she came to a smoldering climax.
And Oona was not through with Trixi yet. She thought of her special play things. She thought of her smooth, long, and thick toy in particular. Double the pleasure. “Where did I leave that play thing?” she whispered loud enough for Trixi, blinded with exhaustion, to hear. “Where did I the put my toy?” Then she smiled down at Trixi. “I will make you scream,” Oona assured her subject.
And she did. Their shared hunger collided and the girls' passion gushed from between their legs. One was hungry for more while the other was finally frozen with exhaustion. Oona judged from her face and vital signs, that Trixi was not quite ready to give more pleasure, only to receive it. And Trixi took it marvelously.
Trixi didn’t know if she was truly pleasing Oona. She wanted to know how to give, not only how to take it. Her netherworld made loud and passionate love to her, not with her. Swollen, throbbing, finally she was stiff and totally spent. Oona followed and both lay paralyzed as the afternoon came to a glorious end.