Chapter 14

"I guess Grace isn't feeling like an extra spoke anymore," I said.

Mary giggled. "Nope." She rolled her feet to the deck and spied the glass of wine I'd poured for her. She strode naked to the wet bar and picked up the glass, gulping at the wine. "Are you thirsty?" she asked. "May I fix you something?"

"Ice water," I said.

Using tongs, she dropped some cubes in a glass and added water from a bottle. As she turned to me, I was pulling up my trunks. "Leave them off," she said. "I'm not finished with you yet."

Without comment, I finished putting them on.

Standing in front of me, her legs spread slightly, she handed me the ice water.

I gulped down half the water in the glass before I paused. "I guess I was thirsty."

Mary didn't sit next to me. She sipped wine and stood looking down at me as if appraising me in some way. "Sometime — I don't know when — you'll fuck her," she said.

"I don't think so," I said.

"When you do, I won't feel ill of you for it."

"Grace and I have agreed that would be a disaster," I said.

"Uh-uh, it might be what you both need so you can get on with the rest of your lives."

I finished drinking the water. Ice clicked in the glass. "Explain," I said.

"You and Grace have an unusual connection. It's deep and intricate; some would say convoluted. I wouldn't. Love and desire are involved. Respect and trust, as well. I believe that if your parents had lived you would have unraveled this connection so it became an almost normal close and loving brother and sister relationship. But the loss of your parents deepened this connection, added layers of intricacy that I don't believe even the two of you fully understand."

"Are you implying that you understand the connection with all its tangled intricacies?" I asked.

She snorted a laugh. "Good lord, no. All I know is that the two of you are bound in ways that exclude others. You're like gray wolves. You've mated for life, but your union forbids breeding, a condition of your connection you've both accepted. I and others — Pete, for example — find this acceptance incredible."

She sighed and sipped her wine. "After your show in San Francisco, Grace tried to unravel the connection. The attempt wasn't conscious or purposeful on her part, and your devastated reaction cowed her into accepting and continuing the connection as it was. Pete was with her for a few days during your hiatus under that rock. That was the beginning of the end of her relationship with Pete, which meant nothing in the total scheme of things. That relationship was doomed from the start anyway. Even discounting your connection with her, Pete wasn't the man for her." She huffed a soft derisive snort. "He wasn't man enough for her. The man she's with right now is. Man enough for her, I mean." She chuckled. "Note that she's sharing him emotionally, like she shares you." She paused and took a deep breath. "Which brings us to you and me."

She tipped up the wine glass. It was empty. She looked at me. "I've changed my mind. I'm not ready to talk about you and me, except to say that I won't run from you like Pete ran from Grace."

She turned to sounds of someone coming through the hatch. Grace stepped onto the deck. When my sister noted Mary's nakedness, she stopped and said, "Excuse me. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You interrupted nothing," Mary said, looked around and spied her bikini top and bottom. She picked them up. "Talk to your brother, while I go below and freshen up." She disappeared down the hatch.

"Are you and Mary all right?" Grace asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Good. Mary heard... ah, did she tell you?"

"Yes."

"Are you and I all right?"

"Yes."

"How about you and James?"

I shrugged. "I need a friend, a male friend. I had hopes that James would fill the role, and I believed our friendship was developing. Whether it will grow or languish now, I can't say."

"Do you still want his friendship?"

"Yes."

She smiled. "Good, then it will happen."

I frowned. "I am confused. I thought James and Deanna were a couple."

"They are. Brent, James's work separates them nine or ten months every year. A closed relationship didn't work for them. They cheated on each other, and cheating is destructive, so because they truly are a couple, they fashioned an open relationship that does work for them. They're compassionate and caring, and they knew I needed to be close to someone tonight, so they invited me into their bed with them." She hugged herself. "It was amazing. The closeness, not the sex." She laughed self-consciously. "The sex, too, I guess."

She walked to the wet bar and poured wine in a glass. "Are you thirsty? May I fix you something?"

Déjà vu all over again, I thought. "Ice water," I said.

We greeted the dawn dripping lake water from swimming ashore to perform the synchronized dance of tai chi. Five individuals moving as one, looking inward, searching for our centers and the kernel of peace our centers hold. As dawn's light marched across still waters and struck red cliffs with its golden glow, I found peace.

I wasn't at peace the previous night. I'd tossed and turned while grappling with the astonishing revelations Mary had outlined, clarifying some aspects of my relationship with my sister that I hadn't understood, some of which I hadn't even known existed. Mary's insight had stunned me, and my opinion of the beautiful Eurasian rose to new heights. Before the night ended, I realized that I loved her.

Even with that realization, I knew that I didn't love Grace any less. Mary had been correct. I was like the gray wolf. In my mind, Grace was my mate for this life. But I wasn't a wolf; I was a human male, and human beings have the capacity to think and act beyond the instinctual behavior of wolves. Also, our capacity for love is unbounded. Human love had to be potentially infinite. Otherwise I couldn't love Mary and Grace like I did. What this meant for my future, I couldn't say, but the inherent stress caused by my deep feelings for my sister melted away. Acceptance became an epiphany.

The ladies swam to the boat, leaving James and me ashore to practice our kuen. We started separately, and then faced each other to spar, but the sparring wasn't a match; it had no goal, no effort to win, no avoidance of losing, and I think we both reveled in the connection the shared exercise gave us. I know I did. I excelled in aerobatics; James was better grounded in the basics. We could teach each other.

We were smiling when we finished and bowed toward each other.

We turned to the sound of applause from the boat, and my jaw dropped. Three beautiful women stood topless as they clapped and voiced their approval for the demonstration of the martial arts they'd just witnessed.

James laughed boisterously. "Now that's a sight for sore eyes," he said.

"Yep," I said, pleased that my sister had finally shown me her tits. My eyes moved from one bare pair to the next.

"You're an artist," James said. "With an artist's eye for beauty, who of the three has the best pair of tits?"

"Deanna, but if you tell any of them I said so, I'll dig out my cudgel and hurt you."

He laughed. "Deal. Grace has the best legs."

"I agree."

"Over all, Mary excels."

I laughed. "You, sir, should have been a diplomat."

"Uh-uh, diplomacy is the art of lying. I'm speaking the truth."

"As you see it."

"Correct."

I grinned. "We see alike."

My heart beat hard in my chest. For the first time in my life, I'd admitted that another woman was as beautiful to me as my sister.

When James and I pulled ourselves out of the water onto the diving platform of the boat and moved onto the deck, Grace tossed us some towels. Her bikini top once again covered her breasts.

I smiled and said, "Spoilsport."

She laughed. "Only from afar, little brother. Only from afar."

We cast lures into stripper boils, jumped wakes on water boards, and roaring over the water, we explored Navaho Canyon on jet skis — my favorite canyon, so far. It had a serenity to it the others couldn't match. Grace took a turn exploring while sitting behind me, and then she drove the jet ski with Mary hanging on to her waist while I stayed with the boat.

None of us were happy when James backed Sweet Rose into our slip at Wahweap so Mary, James and Deanna could meet their chartered flight to Scottsdale.

Mary clung to me. "I don't want to leave," she said. "At the same time, my heart aches to be with Little Bundle again."

"I know. I miss her, too," I said.

"How old is she?" Deanna asked.

"Almost 14 months," Mary replied. "She's very active."

"Well, hell," Deanna said, "baby-proof the boat. Keeping her below deck would be a snap."

"I don't know. She's a little behind development-wise, but she's catching up fast. She takes steps alone now, and she's a climber." Mary laughed. "She's started to assert herself already. She can say a few words, 'no' being the most prevalent."

"Deanna's right," Grace said. "We could baby-proof the boat to insure Little Bundle stays safe. With a few adjustments, we could even let her up on deck with us, and I think they sell life jackets for babies."

"They do," I said. "I saw some in that sporting goods store where I bought my fishing tackle."

Deanna looked at James. "You don't want to leave either. Right?"

He grinned and said, "We were invited for the weekend, Deanna. The weekend just ended."

"You're more than welcome to stay, James," I said. "You, too, Deanna."

"That's for sure," Grace said.

Deanna said, "Well, I've got to show up for work tomorrow, or the judge will have a conniption fit. I could get away again on Thursday, though. James, if you want, stay here at the lake with Grace and Brent, and I'll join you Thursday evening and stay through the weekend."

"All right, I'll stay then," James said.

"Okay," Mary said. "We'll try it. Little Bundle and I will fly back here with Deanna on Thursday."

"Great!" I said. "I'll arrange the flight for you and Deanna and change the aircraft for our return trip so we can all fly home together."

I stood on the bow of Sweet Rose and watched the edge of a thunderstorm moving from the desert toward the lake. The sight was fascinating. Such force! Nothing could stop or impede its progress. Soon the storm would engulf us.

Lightning flashed, striking the thirsty desert floor. The following roaring crack of thunder that rolled in every direction seemed to shake the earth. My tongue tasted acrid ozone, and its scent spread my nostrils as the still air around me started to swirl.

"Brent, you're going to get wet," Grace shouted from the helm. "Come help James put up the canvas."

I scurried along the rail like a cricket and jumped to the deck. "Mother Nature is about to kick ass," I said as lighting cracked and thunder rolled over us and then away from us at the speed of sound.

James and I wrestled with the canvas, but managed to get Sweet Rose battened down before the line of the storm I'd been watching kicked the boat everywhere all at once. The deluge that followed rinsed the gunk from the air, gave the thirsty earth a drink, and churned the waters of the lake into a boil the strippers couldn't match.

Sweet Rose became a cave as the storm blotted out the sun, a cave with a rolling floor. Grace looked frightened. "Don't fear the storm, sweet Grace. Enjoy it," I said, standing and spinning in a circle with my hands extended like wings.

She laughed at my antics, and I could see the tension in her eyes soften until lightning flashed and cracked when it hit the water nearby, immediately followed by the deafening explosion of thunder.

"Take the wheel," she said to me. "I'm going below."

I grinned. "Head-in-the-sand syndrome, huh?"

"Don't tease," she said.

"I'll go with her," James said. "Keep the bow pointed into the storm, but stay well away from the shore."

"Aye, aye, captain, my captain," I said with a grin and set my skipper's hat on my head.

He laughed and followed Grace down the hatch.

He'd fuck her, I knew. While the storm raged, and I pointed the bow into the wind, my new friend would fuck my sister... or she'd fuck him. No, he'd be doing the fucking. The storm had cowed my sister. She'd want to be protectively covered as they rolled with the storm-tossed waves, thrusting against each other, holding tight as they experienced the clouds and the rain, both literally and metaphorically.

My cock lengthened in my trunks. Curiously, the mental image I conjured wasn't James covering and fucking Grace on the V-berth below. It was the kiss Deanna had given Grace to say a temporary goodbye — a lover's kiss.

Oh, the images that kiss provoked!

I groaned with passion as my fist squeezed my hard-on. I wouldn't be interrupted, not for a while, I knew, so I fished my erection out of my trunks and stroked it as I pointed Sweet Rose into the wind.

Keeping her well away from the shore.

Old habits die hard — so to speak.

The solitary climax was... pleasant.

5

I had become the extra spoke. No, more like a thorn in their sides, I thought with a grin as I recalled the many times I'd interrupted a kiss, a grope, or both. Never purposefully, of course, but then I didn't make any extraordinary efforts to avoid interrupting them either.

Humph! Avoiding them would've been near impossible. It appeared that James and Grace couldn't get enough of each other. That would change the next day when Deanna joined them again. I was curious to see if the time James and Grace spent alone without Deanna would change the dynamics of the threesome.

I backed Sweet Rose into her slip without a whisper as James hopped to the pier to tie her down.

"Hey," I said, "I'm getting good at driving our boat."

"Yeah, you are," Grace said and gave my butt an affectionate pat.

We'd returned to the marina to dine at the Rainbow Room, a glass-walled restaurant at the lodge that offered a spectacular view of Wahweap Bay. While I checked the menu the hostess had left me, I found it curious that the restaurant seemed to move as if it were on water like Sweet Rose.

I grinned. "I think I still have my sea legs, whatever that means."

"I know what you mean. I feel like I'm still on the boat," Grace said.

James chuckled.

We ordered steaks and baked potatoes that came loaded with everything. I ate like the growing boy I was. James sipped scotch. Grace drank white wine. I quaffed IBC Root Beer and smiled at Grace. Her eyes shined and she returned my smile.

"You're living a little, little brother," she said. "And I'm getting a kick out of how much you're enjoying our vacation."

"Likewise," I said.

"I have a question," James said. "It's personal and probably out of line, but I feel compelled to ask it anyway. Have the two of you been lovers?"

"Oh, yeah," I said.

"Brent!" Grace said, looking utterly scandalized. "You know that's not true."

I smiled. "James, we've been lovers for years, but not in the biblical sense. We've done no begatting, or even practiced begatting, but I love her and she loves me."

Grace blushed and sighed. "That's true."

James chuckled and shook his head with wonder.

"Love is inexplicable," I said. "It's outside the jurisdiction of control. Love happens or it doesn't. Weird." I paused. "But wonderful, too."

Neither dining companion spoke.

I broke the silence. "Mary told me that Grace and I are like gray wolves. We're mated for life, but the accident of our births disallows the sexual expression of our love."

"Mary said that!" Grace exclaimed.

"Yes, not in those exact words, but close. She also said that our connection is so entangled, even convoluted, that we don't and can't give parts of us to others."

"She's very insightful," James said.

"Yes, but also wrong. In the past, Grace and I haven't given parts of ourselves to others, but we can in the future. That inexplicable love I mentioned earlier has to happen, though, and unlike wolves who mate for life, the human capacity for love knows no bounds, so it's possible I can love you, Grace, and still love another woman with all my heart and mind like I love you." I smiled. "As an example, James and Deanna love each other, but they invited you into their loving circle."

"For sex, not love," Grace said.

"I wonder," I replied and looked at James.

He said nothing.

I looked at Grace. "Tell him."

She shook her head, her fear-filled eyes darting from me to James and back to me.

James's eyes widened, which made me laugh.

"Love just happens, James. It's beyond our ability to control, at least that's what happened to me. The night before Mary and Deanna left for Phoenix, I was lying wide-awake in bed with Mary asleep next to me. My mind was going a mile a minute when I suddenly realized that I loved Mary. The emotion washed over me like a morning mist."

"You love Mary!" Grace said, her voice sounding shocked but happy.

"Yes. I haven't told her yet, so mums the word."

"Of course! You should be the one to tell her," Grace said. "Oh, I'm so happy for you." She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me on the mouth, backing away when the embrace threatened to deepen. "For Mary, too," she added.

When Grace composed herself, I said, "If you're lucky enough to experience it, the first awareness of love is awesome. Sometimes the blush of love happens without offering a glimpse to the consciousness that it infects. For me, that's how it happened with my love for you, Grace. I never recognized the moment I fell in love with you, not the second, the hour or the day. That I loved you couldn't be denied, but the moment love happened eluded me. Not so with my love for Mary. I felt it happen. The sensations the emotion evoked weren't acute, like an orgasm, for example, but still, they were infinitely more powerful and abiding. I was awed not only by the sensations of new love but also with the realization that I loved you no less, Grace. Isn't that amazing?"