“I know,” she said. “I’m going to my room, thanks again.” She hugged me and left.
I sat at the counter and contemplated my own life decisions. I’m glad I wasn’t married with children yet, but I did see the upside of being part of a big family. I wondered about the rest of my year…
Would I find a soul mate?
Did such a thing exist?
Would I find a man who was great in bed—able to be dirty like Peter had been the night before—and also kind, compassionate, considerate, and self-sufficient?
Am I asking too much?
Am I living in a fantasy world?
Is it too much to ask of this life to be happy and content?
IT WAS CLOSE TO MIDNIGHT (after a hectic day dealing with the sick and convalescing) when I realized I’d forgotten to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Proper hydration is an important key to good health, good skin, and good sex. It also helps keep away hang-overs.
I walked into the kitchen and immediately had a weird feeling. The kind where you sense the presence of a stranger. I turned on the light and heard a cough coming from the family room. I didn't have much concern that someone had broken into the house, I was in a gated-community, and the house was alarmed. I went boldly into the next room.
Bethany scrambled to put her shirt back on.
I guess she’d decided to go to second base. She assumed everyone was asleep upstairs, or so I surmised. At least she hadn't risked sneaking Matt, the boyfriend I'd met previously, into her room while I was technically in charge of the house.
“I’m sorry, Jess,” she said after she pulled down her shirt.
“Don’t apologize to me,” I said. “I’m not your mother. However, I don’t know that she’d approve.”
“No,” she said meekly. Her face burned with embarrassment.
“Well, aren’t you going to say hello, Matt?” I asked.
“Um, sure,” he said. "Hello. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
Bethany looked at him.
At least he was dressed. He stood and politely held out his hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, umm…I didn’t mean…”
“Don’t bother,” I said. “I’m her aunt, not the Gestapo. But, now the question is, where do we go from here?”
“Don’t tell my parents, please,” Bethany pleaded. “I’ll be in so much trouble.”
I was in an awkward position so I said, “Let me think about it, okay?”
She nodded her head.
“I’d better go,” Matt said. He gave Bethany a side hug.
He shook my hand and apologized again.
Once Bethany returned from letting him out the front door, I sat on the couch. “Come here,” I said patting the spot next to me. “Let’s have a girl talk.”
She sat next to me and began to cry.
I held her, and that triggered another round of deep sobbing.
Bethany eventually relented and looked at me. Her wet, red-faced look was pathetic and sad, but at the same time, I felt a closeness to her I’d not felt before.
“You’re becoming a woman,” I said. “It doesn’t get easier.”
“I feel so stupid,” she said.
“Don’t feel bad,” I said. “Everything about your feelings is natural and good. You just have to remember that you aren’t an adult paying your own way in the world. You have parents who love you and care for you. They have a lot of say while they’re feeding you, agreed?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I want you to reassure me that everything that happened here tonight was mutual and that you haven’t been pressured.”
“Oh, no. I invited him to come over. I really like him.”
“And you’re thinking about having sex?”
She turned her face away and sobbed again.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not…”
I waited for her to finish. I didn’t want to pressure her, and honestly, none of this was my business if she didn’t want it to be, but I felt responsible for making sure she was safe. I also wanted to be available to her if she needed to talk, confess, or ask questions.
“I’m not really a virgin anymore,” she said.
“How can you ‘not really’ be a virgin?” I asked. “Either you’re virgin, or you're not a virgin. And, for the record, again, I’m never going to judge you, hon. I love you with all my heart, okay?”
“I know,” she said. “I sort of had oral…and…this is so embarrassing.”
“It’s part of growing up,” I said. “You don’t have to tell me any details, okay? Unless you want to, of course. What I need to know is that you're responsible and that you're not going to get pregnant or get an STD. I’d also like you to be careful not to get your heart broken too badly, but that seems to be part of growing up, too.”
“I’ll go to the free clinic,” she said confidently. “I promise. But, please, don’t tell my mom.”
“Shit,” I said. “I don’t want to be…it’s awkward…for now, I’ll keep this between us, but I reserve the right to talk to your parents if I’m feeling like you’re going to be in any trouble, okay?”
“I guess,” she said.
“Don’t guess, you need to understand what I’m saying. Do you?”
“I think. If I go to the clinic and promise to be safe and not do anything stupid, you’ll promise not to get me into trouble with my parents?”
“That sounds fair to me,” I said. “Do you think so?”
“I guess,” she said.
“Bethany…”
“Sorry. Yes, that seems fair and reasonable.”
“Good,” I said. “Now, go to your room and get rid of that gnawing need.”
She blushed and looked away.
“It’s natural,” I said. “There’s no shame in pleasing yourself.”
“Aunt Jess!” she said embarrassed.
“You’re a hormonal teen, hon,” I said. “There’s no secret there.”
“But still…”
“Look, do you know why vibrating toothbrushes are shaped like they are?”
She stood and walked towards the kitchen. “I’m going to bed. ‘Nite Aunt Jess. Love you.”
“Love you too, hon,” I said with a smile on my face. I was a grown-up and rarely resorted to vibrating toothbrushes…
But they work in a pinch.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It touched me to be trusted with something terrible.
~ Elizabeth Kostova
RAY BISHOP IS NOT A TERRIBLE BROTHER-IN-LAW.
Over the years he’s defended me when Eve has gone too far in her judgments about my lifestyle. I appreciate that about him, in spite of the fact he’s one of those church going men who can’t keep his eye’s off my cleavage when at the pool with his kids. I don’t mind so much the gawking, or even the extra long hugs, it’s the hypocrisy that bothers me. But, I remind myself often, he’s still a man at the end of the day.
I helped him with his luggage on Monday morning as Ruthie jumped all over him shouting, “I missed you, Daddy! Did you bring me anything?”
“How’s Eve?” he asked looking at me in the eyes.
The question had several levels: How's her health, how’s her disposition, did she fight with me, and what kind of mood is she in. “She’s doing well,” I said. We’d gotten along over the long weekend. It was partially due, I’d imagine, to the fact that she was mostly bed-ridden upstairs. “I’m sure she misses you. Abby is still sick. Midori came to help and ended up in bed sick.”
“Thank you for everything,” he said. "I know you've been a lifesaver around here. I owe you big time." He pulled the extending handle from his suitcase and Ruthie grabbed it.
“I can do it, Daddy,” she said.
“Okay, but don’t go searching in there for your present.”
“You brought me a present, daddy?”
“Don’t I always?”
She struggled to pull the suitcase towards the sta
irs.
“Ruthie,” Ray said to his daughter, “take that to the laundry room. You don’t need to lug all those dirty clothes up the stairs.”
She went along the hall bumping into the walls with the suitcase and singing a Disney song out of key.
“Hell, it’s been a long weekend,” Ray said once Ruthie was out of earshot.
“I bet,” I teased. “You had two whole nights all alone in a hotel with clean sheets while the rest of us dealt with sickness and dirty dishes.”
“I guess if you put it that way…” He grinned. “I’ve got to get to the office, and I’ve hardly slept. Could you do me a huge favor and throw everything into the wash except the dry-cleaning?”
“From the suitcase?”
“Yeah, thanks,” he said. “Are you staying for dinner? I’ll bring take-out home, something nice. Whatever you want. I really appreciate—”
“Don’t mention it,” I said. “Sure, I’ll stay for dinner.”
Ray excused himself and headed upstairs.
I went to make sure Ruthie had delivered the suitcase to the laundry room and hadn’t gotten sidetracked by any white rabbits or antique wardrobes.
“I’ll take it from here,” I said to her.
I rubbed her head, and she left without a word.
I opened the suitcase.
An overpowering scent—sweet perfume and sex—hit me like the news of a crashing stock market after having invested your life savings.
“Jesus, Ray…” I frowned, shook my head, and put his clothes into the washing machine. I wondered if this was his way to confess to me? Or if men were as stupid as they sometimes acted?
Ray isn’t ignorant, but maybe naive…
I had no doubt as I shook out his pants pockets, unrolled his socks, and picked out his underwear with my thumb and forefinger that he’d been fucking someone besides my sister. I mean, unless he’d loaned his clothes to someone else who was fucking a woman who favored overly sweet perfume.
“Shit,” I said.
“That’s a bad word, Auntie,” Ruthie said. She’d quietly snuck back into the laundry room, and I jumped at the sound of her voice. I thought for a moment that she’d discovered her father’s infidelity as well, but quickly realized she had no concept of such things.
To be eight and innocent again.
“You scared me, little one,” I said.
“Sorry,” she said walking towards her father’s suitcase. “Is my present in there?”
“You’ve got to ask your dad, hon,” I said. “Nothing in here but dirty clothes.” And a few secrets. I poured a capful of Tide over the clothes, pushed a couple of buttons, and picked up my niece for a desperately needed hug.
RAY CAME HOME that evening with a dozen roses and enough Chinese take-out to feed forty people. The food was typical, the flowers, in my opinion, were a guilt offering.
“Everyone get enough?” Ray asked.
“Yes,” Eve said. “They’ve put enough on their plates to feed an entire choir. Say a prayer, honey, so that the kids can start.”
When my sister was at the table—and we’d helped her hobble downstairs—she always expected a prayer from Ray or one of the older kids before we could eat. I thought it was both a bit silly and kind of nice at the same time. Like a unifying family tradition. I bowed my head and closed my eyes.
“Dear Lord,” Ray said starting a short prayer.
I listened to the words differently than I normally did.
He asked for God’s blessing and forgiveness.
Eve's husband offered his gratitude for such things as their health, happiness, and home. Ray said, "Amen," at the end of his prayer and everyone followed, saying, "Amen," before they began eating in silence.
Want to get the Bishop family to be quiet for five minutes? Serve massive quantities of Orange Chicken, Fried Rice, Noodles, Beef Broccoli, and not-to-spicy Singapore Chow Mein.
I watched Ray eat and wondering what he was thinking.
Why would he cheat?
I guess it’s normal, and to be fair—my sister can be a bitch. Maybe after five kids, she decided she didn’t like sex anymore? This type of thing is what scares me about marriage and long term commitment. I don’t know many happy couples who have been together more than five years, give or take. I certainly didn’t want to watch my nieces and nephews go through an ugly divorce, especially if it was just about a weekend fling…
On the other hand, sometimes divorce is best for the children.
Bethany is struggling with morality questions, and she can’t have a rational discussion with her mother.
Now her father is cheating, and if it comes out, it’ll only make Eve more strict and domineering.
Everyone ate seconds, Ray and Zack ate a third helping, and then Eve asked for help getting back upstairs.
“I’ll do it, Dad,” Zack said.
“You sure?”
“He’s been helping all weekend, Ray,” Eve said to her husband, then added, “You help Jess clean up.”
“You got it,” he said.
“Bethany, help your sister get ready for bed. And check on Abby and Midori and see if they need anything,” Eve instructed as she stood up and put a crutch under her arm. "Boys, do either of you have homework to finish?”
Everyone snapped to attention and went to their assigned roles.
“RAY, WE NEED TO TALK,”I said once we were alone.
“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Pass me that bowl.”
I handed him a bowl half-filled with left-over vegetables. “You sure you want to save this? Peter picked out all the shrimp.”
“Toss it,” he said.
“I sort of know about your weekend,” I said softly. “I’m not saying I want to go to Eve. Or do anything...really. I kind of think it’s not my business, but I wanted you to know.”
“Know what?” he asked in a straight tone of voice. He was good at disguising. Aren't we all sometimes?
“You were with a woman,” I whispered.
“What?” He put several boxes into the refrigerator and refused to make eye contact.
“I smelled it on your clothes.”
“You did what?" he asked. "I’m confused.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Ray. I’m stupid nor naive. Your clothes smelled like you’d spent the entire weekend in a whorehouse.”
“She’s not a whore,” he spat out before realizing he’d said more than he’d wanted to say. “Fuck,” he said. “I didn’t think…”
“No, you didn’t.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked. His face had a pained expression. Fight or flight.
“I don’t want to hurt my sister,” I said. “But, at the same time—fuck Ray—I didn’t want this or need this…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry to me. Look, it’s none of my business…what you do…I’m not your mother, your priest, or your wife.”
“Are you going to…”
“Tell?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t fucking know, Ray. Fuck. You should have done your own laundry.”
“I realize that now.”
“Are men just really fucking stupid?”
“I guess,” he said resigned to being an idiot at least for the moment. “Look, it’s not like I’m leaving Eve. I love her and my kids. It’s just…well…it’s embarrassing.”
“What? Are you bored? My sister isn’t good in bed? What?” I dropped serving spoons into the sink and realized I didn’t want to know anymore. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know anymore. It’s between you and her.”
“You’re going to tell her?” he asked.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Please don’t,” he said. “It’ll hurt a lot of people.”
“I agree with that. Shit.”
“Please, Jess,” he said calmly as if he was asking for a drink of water in the middle of a desert. “Don’t destroy my marriage.”
“Fuck, Ray.”
&nb
sp; “I know.”
“Alright, look. For now, I’ll stay out of it altogether. But, so help me… If Eve finds out I knew and didn’t say anything, I’ll really lose my sister…”
“I didn’t know you cared that much,” he said. “I mean, you guys don’t exactly get—”
“The kids, you asshole,” I pointed out. “I’d lose time with the kids. I love your children, Ray. You realize that, don’t you? As if they were my own.”
“I know. And they love you, which is why—”
“Don’t put this on me… Don't make it a practical decision… Shit. Jesus Christ, Ray. What were you thinking?”
“Sorry. Thank you.”
I frowned. “Don’t thank me for lying for you.”
“It’s not a lie…” He looked at me. I think he was sincere. “It’s not a lie. It’s just not bringing out a secret that would hurt people.”
“Jesus, Ray. You should’ve been a lawyer…”
He smiled and I threw a wet, dirty dish rag at his face. “You’re a dick, but I love you, too. I’ll stay out of this.”
“Okay, Jess,” he said. “You’re like a sister to me. I love you, too. Hugs?” He stepped towards me.
“Keep your filthy hands off me you degenerate,” I said in a mocking tone. “I’m going home. I miss my own bed.”
“Night, Jess,” he said. “I really do appreciate you more than you know.”
“You’d better.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
We are all beings of our own creation.
~ B.C. Sirrom
AUDREY AND I MEET FOR LUNCH the day after I’d escaped my duties as auntie, cook, cleaner, and secret keeper. My bestie had been to a few auditions in the last month, and she wanted to tell me about a promising call back.
“It’s a series about this platoon in a dystopian future that drafted into a virtual reality war in in a video game world.”
“Like science fiction?”
“Sort of,” she said. “It’s set in the future when virtual reality is advanced, but the game is fantasy. Swords and sorcery. Have you ever heard of an MMO?”
Fifty-Two Pickup: Threes (Jessica Rogers Book 3) Page 7
