Tapestry Book 4: Straight, No Chaser
Copyright© 2025 by A funny bowl of custard
Chapter 3: Rebirth through immolation
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 3: Rebirth through immolation - Our survivor recalls his senior year in high school as a time when he got almost everything he thought he wanted, but can he keep it in spite of his own flaws? Regardless of his decisions, the status quo he has become comfortable with is going to end.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa ft/ft Reluctant Romantic Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Daughter Niece Aunt Nephew Grand Parent Light Bond Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Pregnancy Slow Violence
I dreamed of the rose garden and the redheaded girl. We were halfway through the arches when the pounding on the door started and I awoke smashing my head on the edge of the toilet. My body had been trained to wake instantly, but that didn’t help if I tried to stand before opening my damn eyes.
I could hear Moira squawking outside the door, “Let me in! I need to pee!” with each word followed by loud bang on the door. I forced myself to stand and unlocked the door. She rushed past me to take the throne. I could hear water hit porcelain as I eyed myself in the full-length mirror. There wasn’t any blood, but I might end up with a knot later. Between the head injury and the mirror it was impossible not to see the resemblance Moira had to Mindy which was mildly disorienting. I shook it off as best I could and turned to deal with my own morning necessities.
I stepped past Moira and took aim at the shower drain. She didn’t object. One of the odder things about my world tour year was learning that most people wore clothes when they didn’t have guests over. I’d mastered the concept by the time I got to the Grandmother’s, but as weird as this moment would be to anyone else it was normal for me. After I’d shaken the matter at hand, I turned to head towards the sink and wash my hands.
As I bent over to gather my clothes from the bathroom floor, she reached out and grabbed my arm at about the bicep, “These are new.”
“Arms?”
“The muscles. You look so much like your father. Your even gifted the same way.”
That is a fucking lie.
My aim at keeping the discussion to the minimum was overrode by annoyance as I shook my arm loose from her grasp, “Yeah, That is a fucking lie.”
I went and threw my clothes on the bed I’d chosen for myself and then washed my hands before resting on the bed to wait my turn for the shower all the while questioning the lie.
I was still a bit shorter than my father and that inch or two I’d been granted in a different area. He was more akin to Scott in that area. I was a true blond, while my father’s hair had been darker. My eyes were blue, almost gray as opposed to Hazel. His features were angular, mine were more rounded. I’d always assumed I took after my mother’s side of the family, but I didn’t look anything like my uncle. I had at least four inches on him and he had at least 200 pounds on me. That thought was interrupted by a stifled moan and I kept my eyes focused on the ceiling. I didn’t want to know.
There were similarities among the family. Mindy was taller than my mother and less endowed, but their features were quite similar. Mindy’s hair was still truly blonde, while Moira’s had started getting dyed years prior.
I was deep in thought when Moira appeared in the main room sucking on her fingers awkwardly, “We should eat at the Knight place before we head down the mountain.”
“The Knight place?”
What the fuck is that?
“The pancake place with the two knights out front. You used to love it. It’s a few miles down the road.”
I wonder who she is confusing me with? Mindy?
“I’ve never been there, but sure. Pancakes sound fine.”
“You used to love it. I even have a picture in my purse of you hanging on the back of the knight. You always loved to climb.”
Yeah, the plum tree outside the window at the rowhouse.
“I didn’t set foot into this state, till you sent me to the grandmother’s.”
She started to dig into her purse, but I just stood and went to shower. My pack had a toothbrush and toothpaste, but I was dependent on the motel’s soap and shampoo.
Once I was finished I dressed in the clothes I’d peeled from the bathroom floor, I didn’t feel like wearing the suit. I noticed she’d quieted down and was shoving stuff back into her purse, “I take it you were wrong about the picture?”
“It was your sister.”
“Yeah, that tracks.” I finished getting ready and then headed to Lucy. Moira went to check out before popping into my passenger seat. I asked, “Which direction?”
“South. There are two giant knights jousting and a smaller one.”
I started the engine and still felt that thrill of freedom. Lucy was my first car and you never forget your first. I pulled out and headed. It was about 12 miles south that I saw the knights and pulled into the lot. She hopped out before I’d even had time to shift into park and ran towards the smaller statue. It was a knight on horseback with sword drawn. She seemed excited, though I suppose there were good times long before I was born.
I grabbed my wallet and book out of my bag. I’d read it through during the waiting the day prior, but I’d only brought one. I assumed the food would be on her dime, but I quick counted to make sure I had enough to cover it if I had to. I’d decided to carry less cash than I normally would, since I knew I’d get searched, but I still needed to be prepared. It wouldn’t be the first time we’d been at a restaurant, and she’d forgotten her wallet or purse or run out of checks. I also grabbed my tea out of my backpack.
I locked Lucy up, gave her a quick affectionate pat, and made my way towards the entrance. Moira was stalled in front of the smaller knight statue digging in her purse. As I got to her she produced a disposable camera and looked at me excitedly, “Can you climb up?”
“No. I’m fifteen, not five.”
“But your sister?”
“Isn’t here.”
Wish she was. That might make this bearable.
I stepped past her into the entrance. I approached the hostess station and got led to a booth. I generally preferred my back to a wall, but I had a clear view of the entrance and the booth meant I’d have to be approached from the side. Moira popped into the opposite side with her tail between her legs.
I took in the restaurant quickly. The medieval them had continued inside, though the entire room was hardwoods with exposed pillars including the booths. There were tapestries hanging from every wall with comedic knight themed scenes. The stainless steel of the kitchen on the far end looked at odds with the theming and the woods of the restaurant. Even more anachronistic was the Jukebox. It set behind the hostess station and was currently belting out the Temptations. I fought the urge to sing along.
I glanced at the menu and did a quick recount of my money by feel. I’d started folding my money after the months I’d spent in Queens. I’d made friends with a blind librarian and been fascinated by some of the tricks he’d used to get by in a world not designed for him. The money folds let me know how much I had with just a brush of a thumb.
The waitress popped by, she was likely a local high schooler with short, cropped hair and a bubblegum fixation. I let Moira order first and then ordered a short stack, bacon, milk, and hot water for myself. I wasn’t going to trust this place to have tea I’d enjoy.
When she wandered off I asked, “Why have you been so schizo with me?” She glanced up and her eyes widened. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out, so I clarified, “First you were insistent on bring me to Roberts even threatening me with the cops again, then you tried sweet, then you went authoritarian, and back and forth. Then you pulled this switcheroo. Why?”
She ground her lip between her teeth, and I realized I must’ve gained that habit from her, “I ... I don’t know how to connect with you. I know it went wrong, but I’m sober. Your uncle thought you needed discipline. Robert said you were mercenary ... that you could be bought. My sister thought you’d want something else, but none of it works. I thought maybe it was just time, that I could prove that I was going to stay sober this time that you’d come back to me.”
There isn’t anything to come back to.
She began to dig into her purse and eventually pulled out a polaroid and set it on the table. I glanced at it and was taken aback. It was her standing next to a tall blond man in front of bowling alley. She spoke with a crack in her voice, “His name was Phil.”
I asked, “Was?” The more I looked at the photo the more the resemblance was undeniable. He would’ve been taller than me, but had the same physical build I’d developed thanks to the cheerleader workouts; slender, but toned. He had the same pale blue-gray eyes I did and the same Irish nose I’d assumed I’d gained from my maternal lineage.
“I left your father for a few months. I was with Phil. He drove a motorcycle and...” Her breath caught. It was obvious the death pained her, but I wasn’t sure what to do with the information. I really didn’t have the energy to process it at the moment.
She kept rambling, but I was done. The food came quickly though they’d given me sausage instead of bacon. I cut up the lot and doused it in syrup. I’d always liked breakfast foods though despite my upbringing I didn’t consider beans a part of them. I’d rarely eaten breakfast prior to the Grandmother though. Mealtimes being non-negotiable meant I’d gotten used to eating three times a day. It had taken a while to figure out that was how she expressed love. She’d grown up in the great depression or in the aftermath of it, food wasn’t a necessity it was a luxury. She insisted on feeding everyone because that was the easiest way for her to show she cared.
I finished my food and let the conversation enter my awareness again when she said, “I don’t know why it is so hard with you, Mindy doesn’t hold everything against me.”
I couldn’t fight the urge to speak, “Yeah, because she got a mother and I got to play clean-up every time you got wasted. She got sent to the Grandmother, while I had the cops drag me back.”
She interrupted, “You were gone for over a week! I had to...”
I took her queue and interrupted myself, “Drag me back to hell and get me roughed up in the process. I was here for months, before you showed up at the grandmother’s house. Mindy said you’d talked to her regularly. If you gave a shit why did you wait?”
She shoved a forkful of eggs in her mouth to keep from having to answer or to give herself time to think of one. I sipped my tea.
Eventually she swallowed the eggs and stared down at the plate. Her voice broke as she spoke, “I was scared. Scared of this. I was afraid you’d hate me.”
I took a sip and then replied calmly, “I don’t hate you. I just don’t care. I tried. I put in years of effort into taking care of you. I took care of you when I could barely take care of myself. I just don’t have anything else to offer you.”
She yelped, “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I’ll be gone this time next year. I won’t be coming back. I’ve already gotten one acceptance letter. I expect more in the next couple of months.”
Then I get to figure out the finances. Even with scholarships that is going to be a challenge.
She was quiet for a while. I finished my tea and then paid for the food when she made no move for the tab after it got set in front of me. The drive back to Robert’s was mostly painted by the ashes and barren bits on the side of the road from the fire. It had burned large swaths of forest away and others got left untouched. It felt poignant considering the conversation I’d just had. Everything was dead, but it would take a while to see if anything new grew in its place.
As I parked in front of Robert’s house Moira finally spoke again, “Does it really have to be that way?”
“What way?”
“The way you told me it would have to be. Is that the only way we can have a relationship? Is that the only way you’ll forgive me?”
I searched through every word I’d spoken in the last 24 hours and couldn’t find anything that made that question make sense. I then worried that I’d said something I’d thought aloud, spoken when I’d only intended to think, but none of that fit either. Finally, I answered, “I don’t know what I said. Either way, I’ve got stuff to do.”
I hopped out of Lucy, locked her up, and then gave the roof a gentle pat, “Good Girl.” I slung my pack over my shoulders, picked up the suit, and headed towards my private entrance. I still didn’t know what Moira had thought I’d said, but I had to talk to Mindy. My own indecision felt acidic.
When I got to my room, I hung up the suit and added a new spare outfit to my bag. I made a mental note to grab some travel-size hygiene items for my bag the next time I went shopping.
I ended up sinking onto the couch and dialing Mindy’s number. We still talked though not regularly, though our conversations were often prattle at that point. The emotional closeness I’d come to feel for her felt more distant with every day. I still loved her. My feelings never seem to change in that regard, but we simply weren’t as close as we were. That our conversations were often stilted and awkward really stretched that bond.
It took seven rings for her to answer with a, “Jesus Christ, Don’t you know what time is.”
“1000 hours, sugar spun.”