Chapter 19: The Summer of Love

It was around 0200. I was sitting on the ridge of the roof playing the flute GG had gifted me. I was surprised when the I heard the window to my room slide open and a blonde head climbed out of it. I put the instrument back into its case as my sister crawled up towards the ridge, “I was trying to sleep, but someone is playing Canon in D on a flute.” She was nervous, shaky, it wasn’t something I was familiar with as she was normally so very composed.

“You okay?”

“I ... I don’t really like heights.”

“It’s not that far down as long as you go forward. You go backwards and it’s around eighty feet to hit the grass or a ninety-five to hit the porch of that puke green house.”

She sneered, “How very comforting, turd.”

“I’m not going to let you fall.”

“What’s with the flute solo?”

“Just thinking. Angie is gone. It’s weird that someone can just leave like that ... which is really stupid, cause I was a military brat. I guess I’m just used to leaving, not being left.”

“And it has nothing to do with my impending trip north?”

“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t weighing on me. You’re ... You are the first person I’ve shared a real connection with.”

“I’ll just be a few hours away. We can call. I’ll visit some weekends. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to fuck me.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend what I feel for you is just about getting my dick wet. I love you. Don’t diminish that. Don’t pretend it’s some stupid crush. I love you. I ... I wasn’t even sure I could feel that, but I do.”

“I know ... I love you too, baby brother. That’s the problem.”

“Love isn’t a problem.”

“We’re siblings and you’re fifteen. There isn’t any road we can walk down where you and I get married and have kids. I’m going to marry Mickey next year. You and I don’t have a future.”

“I get that. It sucks, but I get that. You shouldn’t marry Mickey though.”

“His family has connections. He can help me ... he’ll make sure I get attached to a good firm.”

“He is just like our father.”

She shook her head, “He has never laid a finger on me.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“He likes Rush.”

She laughed, “You just don’t like him cause I’m fucking him.”

Not wrong, but I’m still right.

“Let’s just table it.”

I stood and slipped down and back through the window to my room. She was slower following. I moved over to my bed and pulled out the brochures and a pad from pack before sliding onto it, “Can we talk about the trip?”

She glided over and set on the edge of the bed, “Are you sure you don’t want to bring a couple of your cheerleaders?”

“The whole idea is to spend time with you before the clock runs out and considering what it cost me, I want to get the most out of it.”

“Cost you?”

“Made a deal with Robert. This trip is costing me weekly dinners with my mother.”

Her face twisted in surprise, “There need to be rules.”

“I was thinking more planning the itinerary and menu. I’m looking forward to two weeks of cooking.”

“Mine first. Rule 1: Secrecy must be maintained at all costs. That means you don’t touch me in public. Ideally, you don’t drool while looking at my ass. We may be far away from anyone we know, but you’re still fifteen.”

“You can pass for eighteen. We can pretend for at least one night out.” I handed her one of the brochures, “They have outdoor dining at the main resort. It overlooks the valley and they have candlelit dinners.”

“Fine, but you keep it PG.”

“They also have hiking trails, a pool, paddleboats on the lake, minigolf, there is a tram that takes you down to the valley where there is a restored camp from the civil war. The town itself also has a tiny water park.”

“I’m surprised your itinerary isn’t just ‘stay in bed.’ I do like the camp thing ... that looks really cool.”

“I’ll pack a few books too. So, we have a romantic candlelight dinner one night and the day we go to the water park we can get food in town. Fast food on the day we go and leave. I figure I can make dinner most days and we can eat the leftovers for breakfast, so I’ll need to plan for ten meals.”

She laughed, “You don’t need to plan everything out. We’ll just enjoy the trip. There is a grocery store in the town near the park.”

“I want to borrow a couple of crock pots from the grandmother. I’d like to make Ragu on our last day. My recipe makes enough to feed an army though, so we can bring back what we don’t eat.”

“Our grandmother, not ‘the’ grandmother.”

“She’s the grandmother to me.”

Day One, Friday:

We left early in the morning for the long drive. I tried in vain to convince Mindy to let me flex my learner’s permit, but was rebuffed. We stopped at a mom-and-pop side of the road café that Mindy said she’d used to stop by when she went to summer camp as a child. A milkshake and a terrible plate of chicken and dumplings later and we were back on the road.

We stopped for groceries when we hit the town and scoped the water park. Mindy also found a bowling alley and added it to our unofficial itinerary.

We had to check in at the resort to pick up the key for the cabin. It was the very last down a long dirt road. We (The royal we in this case) carried in the groceries, borrowed crock pots, my duffel, and her two bags. The cabin had a master bedroom with a king size bed and ensuite. The ensuite had a soaking tub and walk-in shower. There was a second bedroom with twin bunks and an open kitchen/living area. There was a back deck that overlooked the valley and faced west.

I found some firewood on the deck and set to prove my caveman skills. Mindy made a pan of Jiffy Pop. We watched the sunset together and made love on the couch by the fire.

Day Two, Saturday:

I had grand plans of taking the long hiking trail down to and around the lake, but we never left the cabin and it was 1400 before we left the bed. We did take a nice long soak in the tub and I made gnocchi for dinner. We had dinner and a bit of fun on the back deck.

Day Three, Sunday:

Mindy complained about being a bit sore, so we travelled up to the resort. She spent some time in the spa and I ran laps in the pool. We came back together and managed a hike down to the mini golf. There wasn’t a whole lot of takers, so we did a few rounds in a row.

After my fifth hole-in-one she finally asked, “How are you so good at this?”

“You can blame your mother. Whenever she’d sober up in Florida she’d promise not to drink again and take me on an outing. The first was to a mini-golf course. I got really good at winning free games on the last hole. Then the mall for a movie at this theater that had tables and pizza. Then exactly twenty-one dollars and seventy-five cents to spend at the arcade in the mall.”