Chapter 13: At home

WHEN I WOKE up the following morning, my second day at home, I almost cried again. It was all so normal. The sun was barely up. I’m an early riser, always have been, and there’s not much peace and quiet in prison. Plus, they get you up at the earliest hour anyway.

I looked out the window. Summer where we live gets hot during the day, but early mornings are pretty cool. In fact, when I think back to that night of the party, it was a little unusual that it had stayed as warm as it did so far into the night. This morning was no exception. It wasn’t cold and there was more than a hint of the warmth and heat to come, but the slightest of breezes through my window felt good.

Nude, I walked down the hall to the bathroom Nicole and I shared. My god. Another shower, and still by myself! My third. One when I got home two days ago, another yesterday morning, and again today. Hot water, seemingly as much as I wanted. It wasn’t unlimited and I had to keep my bandage as dry as I could, I knew that, but once I was under the water I couldn’t move, couldn’t let it go. I let the warmth and the steam envelope me. Good soap, not the bricks of lye the prison provided. Well, they weren’t lye, but it seemed like that sometimes.

When I began to prune and I felt the water getting a little less warm I shut off the shower and stepped out. Another luxury, soft towels! I rubbed and rubbed to dry myself. I felt cleaner than I’d ever felt in the past year and a half. Shaving was another pleasure. Instead of jostling with a bunch of guys in front of a crappy mirror in a cold bathroom, I stood in the remaining heat and steam and shaved slowly, my razor with a new, sharp blade, and my favorite Italian shaving soap.

I probably would have stayed in the bathroom all morning, but as I washed and dried my face there was a knock on the door and Nicole’s voice.

“Christopher, let me in!”

I stepped over to the door. I had a towel around my waist. Instead of passing me Nicole grabbed me once more in a hug and kissed me, this time quickly on my lips. She looked me up and down. “Nice, Christopher!”

I smiled, not entirely sure where she was going with this. “Nicole?”

“Now get out of here. It’s my turn.” With that she pushed me to the door, and in a quick little swipe managed to hang onto my towel and I practically fell out into the hall.

“Ooh!” She laughed.

“Nicole, what?”

“Bye, Christopher.” I heard the door lock click. Wondering a little about where my little sister really wanted to go with this, I wandered back to my room and dressed in my old clothes, a little musty from being in the drawers all this time.

In the kitchen, Mom greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She held my head in her hands and looked and smiled. I felt her hands on my cheeks. Soft yet firm.

“You smell pretty good, Christopher.” She laughed. “Not the musty smell from the day you were released.”

“I feel good, Mom.” I hugged her as hard as I could. “Really really good.”

She pushed me away. “Today’s a special day. Your dad’s already left on errands, but I’ll cook you breakfast.” Another laugh. “Don’t get the idea I’ll do this every day, either!”

“Sure, Mom.”

I was halfway through the scrambled eggs and bacon when Nicole showed up, smiling, clean, hair still wet. She leaned over me and kissed the corner of my mouth and stroked the back of my neck at the same time. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mom watching, her eyebrows raised halfway up her brow.

“Hi again, Christopher!”

I put my arm around her waist. “And to you, too, baby sister.”

She hit me. “I am not your baby sister, Christopher.”

“You aren’t?” I couldn’t resist. “Whose baby sister are you?”

She fake-punched my arm. “I’m your sister, dummy, but I’m not a baby.”

That was certainly true. Only a couple of years behind me. Luxurious hair down to the middle of her back. Swimmer’s shoulders but slim overall, curves in the right places. She was even more on my side than Dad and Mom were.

“Christopher,” Mom said, “I brought the brochures and catalogues from North Valley Community College you asked for. I talked to their admissions staff last week, and if they’re satisfied with your courses you can probably start the next semester.”

I had my transcript. I was pretty sure I’d satisfy at least the first year and probably a good chunk of the second.

“Thanks, Mom. Where are they?”

“In the study. We’re keeping the computer there, too.”

After breakfast I settled myself on the little sofa with its good reading lamp and looked through the brochures and catalogue. In keeping with today’s standards, the catalogue was only a summary. All the course descriptions and prerequisites were digital and found on the college’s web site.

I couldn’t concentrate. It didn’t help that Nicole came in and sat next to me to look at the brochures with me. She’d never been a pest and she wasn’t one now, but she was distracting, especially her shampoo and the fresh scent she wore. I felt her warmth, especially when she turned to make some comment. Her lips beckoned, but I shook myself again and tried to ignore this.

The real question for me was Ellie. Mateo was in his sophomore year at the local state college. I wasn’t going to run into him at the community college. Ellie had gone to the school we’d planned to attend together in the southern part of the state.