1974 -- Wednesday, September 30, 2020 -- post #3 -- 3336 words about consanguinous love and sex -- by Vivian et al -- originally published as ‘Meet the Jamesons’ --

Being a work of fiction, everything in this story is made up, even the fictional people, places, and things that bear strikingly similar names to real people, places, and things that existed before Hurricane Andrew wrecked South Florida in August of 1992.

Trigger warning: Excessive use of the letter ‘V’. Also, I like punctuation. I tried a twelve-step program once to stop, but all it did was make the situation worse, as they had full stops ‘.’ after each step, and lots of commas sprinkled in between.

NOVEMBER 1974

“Viv!”

My peaceful dream destroyed, I woke to the sound of my mother Vanessa screaming. Startled, I rose quickly, the sheet falling from my naked body and uncovering my wonderful Van’s equally naked chest.

“Viv!”

“Wha...”

“Oh ... My ... God...”

In retrospect my abruptly sitting upright in my bed and then staring blankly at both of our parents like a deer illuminated by a car’s headlights, naked as the day I was born but for the sheet covering my lower extremities was probably just making the situation worse. If it were actually possible to make the current situation worse.

Thinking quickly, I laid back down and pulled the sheet over my head.

“Van, Valdanbrini Valdes Vaccaro! What are you doing in here?”

Oh no, mom was invoking my brother’s full given name, who names their son Valdanbrini? This was bad. Duh, of course it was bad. Maybe not as bad as if they had walked in before we both fell asleep last night, interrupting one of the many lovely orgasms sweet Van had given me in this bed, but plenty bad nonetheless.

Van, as disoriented as I was right now, spoke the very words that I had been thinking.

“Why aren’t you two in Jamaica?”

Good plan Van, redirect attention. Not that it’s going to work, but really what precisely could either of us say right now, we had been caught.

“Van, what are you doing in your sist ... No, no...”

I realized that our mom had been just as disoriented as we were. Before flipping the light switch on, she had been both literally and figuratively been in the dark. Then suddenly those three 60-watt bulbs provided both illumination and clarity. I quickly deduced that it was the figurative rather than the literal illumination that was blinding her as she realized what it was that she was observing, causing her present stutter. Then I heard the master bedroom door down the hallway slam closed.

“Vuh ... Vuh ... Van Valdes Vaccaro! You get out of that bed this instant!”

I had been contemplating remaining under the sheet until the oxygen supply was depleted, hoping but not truly believing that the silky 320 count cotton would asphyxiate me or at least render me totally unconscious so that I would be physically unable to answer mom’s questions. Right, like I would really be able to answer mom’s questions even in a fully conscious state.

“Van Valde, go to your room.”

“Mom, look ... I know this is a shock...”

I was doubly relieved, Van was awake enough to respond, and he wasn’t getting out of bed. Under the sheets I threw my arms around his warm familiar torso, wordlessly saying to him, “please, don’t leave me.”

“A shock? A shock, you two...”

As I laid my head on his abdomen I felt my brother’s flaccid penis nestled in my armpit. Hey I thought, that’s the one place we hadn’t put it last night.

“I love you mom. I didn’t think you would walk in on...”

“Damned right you didn’t think Van...”

As mom spoke I was trying to gauge her anger level from her words. It was hard, mom never swore so ‘damn’ was a really big deal, but on the other hand she had dropped down to just ‘Van’.

“I thought you and dad were going to Montego Bay.”

“Don’t change the subject Van. Now go to your room.”

“I love you mom, but I can’t leave.”

“Why not? Oh my God you’re...”

“Sorry. I just can’t leave Viv in here alone to face the music. Nobody, not even you and dad get to reproach her. I love Viv, so please, just speak to me.” As he spoke these words he ran his fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp in the way that I so love. “Anyone, everyone, even you guys have to come through me to get to her.”

“You’re ... You’re naked under there, aren’t you Van?”

“Yes mom. But that isn’t why I can’t or rather why I won’t get out of this bed.”

“How could you? Van ... Viv ... How...”

“I love Viv. We are all...”

“You two, are in here, in her bed, naked...”

“Yes mom, I love Viv. We are all...”

“You are having sex with your sister.”

“Yes...”

“YES?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“This would be a REALLY good time to start.”

“We are all adults here.”

“She IS your SISTER.”

“Yes, and she is perfect.”

“Your sister, Van.”

“So then you know exactly how wonderful she is.”

“How could you ... How long ... Wait, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. I don’t...”

“Mom, Viv is absolutely perfect. You know that so please ... please, don’t be mad at her. Blame me if you need to blame someone ... punish me if you need to punish someone ... I take full responsibility.”

As he spoke those words I gained enough courage to poke my head up from under the sheets. As I did, Van wrapped his arms around me in a lover’s embrace and kissed the top of my head where minutes before his fingers had been. Given the circumstances, it may not have been the smartest move he could have made. But if it were possible it made me love my big brother even more.

“I love Viv, I didn’t plan on...”

“We didn’t plan on having you find out this way.” I said, finally finding my voice, “We just didn’t know how to...”

“We have talked about it.”

“How to or when to...”

“Never, that’s when you should have told me. That is EXACTLY when I would have liked for you to tell me this, never. I need some time, and a drink or maybe five to process this, which I am certain is what your father is doing right now.”

“Mom,” I said.

“No. We can talk more in the morning, that is assuming your father and I are still alive in the morning. Which is unlikely.”

Finally a good sign, her anger has subsided enough to allow her to return to familiar territory, control by way of guilt.

I pushed myself back into Van as she left my room closing the door. I could hear voices from the master bedroom, most of the words were unintelligible, and I felt tremendous guilt. Not for loving Van. Not for fucking my big brother. Not even for being so complacent and managing to get caught. Getting caught might even have been a godsend. Imagine having to hide your love or your lover from all the others that you love indefinitely. To be forced to live a lie, that would be much worse than being caught.

No, what I felt tremendous guilt for was what I just put mom through. For what I was putting her through now with dad. The occasional word spoken both clearly and loudly enough to be understood through two closed doors and down a hallway that separated us just increased my feelings of guilt.

“So you just left him ... in there ... together...”

“Does it ... really ... anymore...”

The next morning was tense. Van and I spoke but did not get out of our bed, technically it was my bed but since we had been discovered together in it ... it was now our “final resting place.” Eventually dad came in.

“Could you both get dressed and come downstairs.”

“You know dad, if I am going to die, I would just prefer to do it here in my room in my bed with Van holding me.”

“Viv don’t be so melodramatic. I am only upset because I love you and this is not right for you. For either of you, other people won’t accept it.” Then he left, closing the door.

I saw the crack immediately, dad was handing it to us. Why? Maybe ... it made sense. I knew mom’s argument. The ‘Cliff’s Notes’ version was “what will people, meaning all those other people that we know and interact with, think.” But “those other people,” that was mom’s cross to bear not mine. To be obsessed with what her so-called friends thought. But dad was saying that we could present a logical argument and prevail. Well ... we were their children and they had much invested in us.

I was shaky getting dressed, but Van, he was my rock. Always holding me up, at times literally. Once I was ‘presentable’ we walked to his room so that he could get dressed. As he closed his bedroom door I dropped to my knees and took my lover’s penis whom I had held in my hand as he walked naked down the hallway. I looked at it and I kissed it.

“Viv...”

“Shhhh, if I am to die, or if we are to be cast out when we go to offer ourselves up for judgement momentarily ... Van my love ... I just want this to be my final act on this earth. If I die then I want to die with your spunk in my mouth.”

I am certain that at that moment my brother was thinking that dad was right in saying that I had a penchant for the melodramatic. But I am even more certain he was way too smart to say it out loud. Van loved me. Oh, and if he had argued the point I just might have changed my mind, he was smart, he might as well get the offered blowjob first.