Chapter 6

Brad’s turn:

Sunday saw us packing for a return to normalcy. Reality returned. She’s packing HER bags, I’m packing mine.

One thing we didn’t have to pack was leftover wine. Neither of us has a drinking problem, but we made short work of what we’d brought – a couple of bottles a day after that blow-out the first night.

When I stopped by the park office to turn in the keys, the smiling lady at the desk said, “I trust y’all had a good time. You never even left...”

“Great time, thank you,” I said. “That was the whole idea – come here and hole up together and read and enjoy the company.”

She kept smiling. “We’re good for that.”

“We’ll be back,” I said. “Maybe in the dead of winter.”

“Not much demand in the winter. Call us.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Beck was waiting in the car for me.

“Well?” she said.

“Well, what? I dropped off the keys. She noticed that we haven’t left the park all week.”

“Why would we? Perfect here. Better than I ever imagined, Brad.”

The trip home had me driving her back to her house first.

I hauled her bags in when she unlocked the door. Once inside, I started to kiss her. She put a hand on my chest, holding me away.

“Not in this house, Brad. Too many things ... That’s why I need to get out of it.”

“DO it, then,” I said.

“I am. Calling the realtor tomorrow. Following you home today. If you want me to...”

“Long drive in the morning, Beck.”

“If I’m a little late, nobody’s in a position to say anything.” She looked at me solemnly, like she was working up courage. “You meant it. This weekend, I mean.”

“I did.”

“I’m following you home, then. I’m not ready to spend a night in this house by myself any more. I hope you understand...”

“Understand? More like ‘hope’ or ‘dream’. I meant it, Beck.”

“Then just let me get some things, okay?”

“Need some help?”

“No, I got this. On second thought, put my bags back in my car.”

“Okay.” I hauled her bags back out the door. Apparently she IS serious.

Back inside. “Those bags from our week – good for knocking around. This – for work.” She handed me a bunch of clothes on hangers. I hung them in my car.

She was almost grim as she selected some things to add to the load-out.

Finally – “That’s good enough. Brad, let’s get out of here.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just things are tumbling down on me, baby. Gotta get...”

“Let’s go.”

She locked the front door behind her, we got into separate cars, and off we went.

It’s basically an hour drive. An hour that I had with my thoughts and I imagined she had with her own.

I’m an engineer, and I’m told, a meticulous version of the genre. Lists. Procedures. Limitations. Works good for engineering, right? Personal relationships? Well...

‘what do you want, Brad?’ I ask myself. ‘You want somebody in your life, but you don’t need the drama. Exactly how long do you search for that? And what are the hurdles?’ I think I know answers and frankly, they’re scary.

‘She’s your sister, Brad... ‘ I posed to myself.

Myself answered, ‘Not like we’re gonna experiment with genetic collisions. No kids. And you KNOW her. Background. Quirks. Everything.’

And ‘Is it fair to HER? Is there love involved?’ To which I thought, ‘Yes, I love ‘er. She’s my sister, so there’s always been that.’

She’s behind me. I see her in the rearview mirror. And if I know my sister, her head’s grinding the same grist as mine. She’s still behind me, though. She could’ve turned around. She could have called me. Neither of those happened, so Beck’s thinking, too.

And I really want HER to push us.

There! I admitted it to myself. I WANT this. I want Beck.

I punched up a bit of Rossini on the sound system. Overtures. The lead-ins to something big.

Eventually – it seemed like forever – we’re in the parking lot to my apartment. We each grab a load of stuff, heading for the door. I manage to keep one hand free enough to unlock it and let us in.

I was wondering ... I heard her bags hit the floor, turned around right into her arms. Our lips met. Hot.

“That answers that question, Beck.”

“What question?”

“The one where you have time to think about this and decide that it’s a big mistake...”

Another kiss. “Best mistake I ever made,” she sighed. “Let’s get the rest of the stuff in. Then I dunno ... food. Somewhere in the mix, there’s food.”

“That’s it? Luggage, then food?”

“Yeah. That’s it. Don’t wanna leave this apartment.”

“Whatever shall we do to entertain ourselves?”

She kissed me lightly. “I plan on playin’ with your pee-pee.”

“Oh. Can I play with yours?”

“I would like that.” And she cupped my erection, giving it a squeeze.

Took us each a couple more trips to get everything in. I shoved my clothes over in my closet so she could hang hers.

“My business duds,” she explained. “How much space do you have in this dresser?”

“Mostly empty. My dull ol’ furniture. She furnished her new place the way SHE wanted...”

Her fingertip touched my lips. “Not another mention of HER, Brad. I’m here...”

“Okay. Dresser’s yours.”

“That’ll work.” She started removing things from her bag and putting them away. A similar event happened in the bathroom. Two sinks. One of them is hers now.

Then she turned. “Now, sir ... that thing we had so much fun with all week. Still interested?”

“God, yes...”

It’s been soooo long ... Our last one was right before we checked out of the cabin, so, you know – HOURS. And this week with Beck is like somebody pulled the stopper out of my sex life, let me free flow.

Saucy eyes from her as she started undressing. It was a race, apparently, and I lost by just the amount it took for her to rip the covers off the bed and wrestle me onto it. The mating was hot, frantic, noisy, then we were post-coital, curled in each other’s arms.

“This part,” she said.

“This? Holding? Cuddling?”

“Yes. I need this part.”

“You got it. That’s a ‘you’ thing.”

“Cuddle me. And let’s talk.”

I surveyed her expression. It was placid. I suppose that if I was getting ready to be dumped, she’d look different. “Okay.”

“Us. I wanna do ‘us’.”

I told her of the thoughts I’d had on the drive home.

“You’re right, Brad. I was thinking, just like you. I know there are hurdles. I know that lots of society would say it’s wrong. Still want you. Want us.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do, Beck.”

“Now, less serious ... Money.”

“I got enough.”

“So do I,” she stated. “One thing Keith was good about was insurance. We had it all. Mortgage insurance paid off the house. Car’s paid off. And there’s almost a million in the bank. He maxed out his work policy. I maxed him out on mine.”

I gazed at her. “Nice to know. But I don’t care.”

“You might. If you want me, I’m giving ‘em a week’s notice when I go in tomorrow.”

“I want you...”

“I can stand two hours’ commute for the rest of the week. I don’t want to spend another night in that house. Too many memories.”

What could I say? “Okay ... Seems like you’re evolving.”

She snuggled into me closer, a not unpleasant feeling. “I am. I didn’t know ... I loved Keith. I didn’t know ... We married, neither of us really knew. We sort of figured it out on our own ... Like sex ... I didn’t KNOW it wasn’t that good. Even watching his stupid porn, that’s not real. I didn’t know ... Dammit, Brad!” She bit me. “NOW I know...”

“So ... sex...”

“No, Brad. You didn’t make me feel SEX. You made me feel love. And happiness. And joy. I saw your face while we were playing. It wasn’t about sex. You wanted us happy.”

“I admit that. And playing in bed with you makes ME really happy.”

She smiled. “Good sex. Good good sex. But we didn’t just do it ALL the time. Seriously ... We read. Didn’t even turn the stupid TV on.”

“If I turn the TV on in here, it’s usually background noise, or something I can eyeball every now and then to give my eyes a rest. There ... The cabin, you’re more interesting than TV.”

“And you didn’t need a porno to get off...”

I shook my head. “I can’t figure that one out. Not in a million years.”

“Different strokes, I guess,” she said. “But you and me – our future...”

“You said a little home for the two of us...”

“I want that. This is a nice apartment, but Brad...”

“Yes?”

“We can do a GOOD one. We have money. Buy the perfect remote lot. Build OUR cabin. OUR way...”

“You’re serious.”

“And you’d better be. I’m turning in my notice tomorrow. Claiming emotional issues.”

“That’s innovative.”

“It’s true, you know,” she giggled. “I’m pretty sure that doin’ your brother counts pretty heavy in ‘how screwed up ARE you?’ points.”

“Kiss me.”

Giggle. “Yep. Screwed up.” And she complied. Then, “I can go by the house after work, load up stuff, bring it here. Should get most of it this week...”

“What about furniture and stuff?”

“We can look this weekend. If there’s something we wanna keep, we’ll do it. And what’s left, we’ll donate. And leave the place in the hands of a realtor.”

“You ARE an organized little thing.”

“Like my brother,” she said. Giggle. “Speaking of organs...”

“You’re like a fourteen-year old’s fantasy,” I said.

Squeal. “I was TWELVE! Wasn’t even having periods. No tits. No hair.”

“And fascinating.”

“Now, if you’d’ve waited until I was fourteen...”

“You’d’ve been as pregnant as hell,” I said. “You’re responsible for a lot of sticky laundry.”

“Me? When you had all the other women in the world to think about?”

“Oh, I thought about them too, but you had a special place on my list.”

“That’s one of those things that I might not have handled well if I’d really known.” She smiled. “Or not. I thought you were pretty cool for a big brother. If I’d known that I excited you...”