"Life is hard. Life's a bitch and then you die. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When God closes a door he opens a window. If I hear one more God-damned cliché I swear I'll kill something," I growled. "Alex, you got a raw deal. You had two perfect little girls, and now they're gone. Your past is shattered. Your little bit of immortality is lost. And as bad as you've got it, I'd remind you others have it worse, and they just press on. You need to as well," Cathy told me, kneeling beside me and holding my hands. The woman barely knew me. A middle-aged mother of three with grown kids, and a workaholic husband. Her life was her home, keeping it immaculate and decorated for every holiday and season. Now it seemed I was her newest project. Why should I matter that much to her? Couldn't she see I didn't want her help? "Sure, starving Ethiopians, children in Nigeria dying of aids, Tibetan monks martyred, it's a tough world. Boo hoo." "You don't have to look as far as Ethiopia or

I made a list of phone calls, and went to work. Calling, one-by-one, my friends, neighbors and co-workers, I apologized for my behavior and thanked them for their concern. To a one, they blew off my boorish behavior, and promised they'd be there for me if I needed anything.I stopped, with just a few calls remaining, wondering where those people were for Sandy and Erica, who seemed to need it far more than I.I picked up the phone and dialed Denise's family. I knew it was going to be tough. I apologized for leaving the funeral arrangements to them, and thanked them for all they had done. Speaking to Dan was difficult, but my conversation with Sharon almost did me in. The time we'd spent in the hospital, watching over Allora came up, and I had to take a break for a bit to get my emotions under rein, while I listened to Sharon sob. Even after the divorce we'd remained friendly, and I was glad that we'd had each other on that fateful watch. I promised I'd stop by in the next couple of da

Her words surprised me. "Not at all. I'm just trying to fight back a bit against the unfairness of the world. What are you doing out here alone, anyway?" "I can't stand the way they look at me. Like suicide is contagious or something. They don't know what to say; they all avoid me, or look at me like I was a leper or something." "People can be assholes." She smiled. "I'll drink to that." I sat beside her and drank my 80 proof eggnog in silence. We watched a small group come out and start talking while they lit up their cancer sticks. "I know you mean well, Alex. But you can stop now, Ok?" she said softly. "One last thing." "Please. Enough already." "Steve called. Everything's cleared up with the insurance. You'll get your check next week." She looked at me like I'd grown a third eye, completely stunned. "Really?" "Really." She finished her wine, gulping it down, then sat back. "Shit. Six fucking months they drag it out and then suddenly, like that," she snapped her fingers,

I stood carefully, my pretty little sister-in-misery still impaled on my rod. She wrapped her legs around me tightly and clung to me with both arms. I held her by her sweet little ass and slowly climbed the stairs. With each step I lifted and lowered her, screwing her along the way. Nearing the top step she surprised me by giggling. "What?" "You're stronger than you look," she said, softening the words with careful little kisses bestowed across my chest. "You're light as a feather. I need to feed you." She smiled wickedly. "A protein oral injection?" I almost dropped her, and she giggled, "What?" "You, young lady, have a dirty mind." I saw a storm flitter across her face, but she shook it off and smiled. "It's been a long time, Alex. I'm not so good at flirting and teasing." "Ditto, beautiful. Bear with me." She made a little rolling movement of her hips, ending with my cock completely sheathed within her moistness. She giggled. "Damn! I can't believe you can just hold me l

I pointed to the figure to the side. "If she's angry, how come she's smiling?" I asked. Erica laughed. "She's only trying to be angry. She's really happy. She just isn't allowed to show it. She has to act sad because Daddy's gone." I held the picture up, then made a show of hugging it. "It's my very favorite Christmas present. I'm going to frame it and put it on my desk." Erica climbed up on the couch and hugged me. "Will you hook up my PS3?" "Of course I will," I told her, returning her hug. "And I'll start breakfast," Sandy announced. I looked up, and she was wiping tears from her face again. What a roller-coaster of emotions. It only took a few minutes, and we had the game system hooked up and Erica was debating which game to start with. She barely got it loaded before we were called over for breakfast. "Mo-om!" Erica pouted. "It's not going anywhere. You can play after breakfast." It was surrealistic, sitting there at the table, with eggs, toast and sausage on my plate, a