Best Friend’s Sister

Best Friend’s Sister 6

A Trip to the Beach

Despite being loud and obnoxious at times, I’m really… not. I’m not really a loud person. I can tell when I’m being noisy and obnoxious. Usually a second or two before someone’s getting ready to tell me to shut the EFF up. Not enough warning to help me keep my foot out of my mouth. I’ll think I’ll have that mastered when I’m like 90, far too late to be of any use.

I think being conspicuous is a way to stop myself from retreating into myself, since I’m really an introvert. Karaoke, karate tournaments, fighting some hopped-up maniac, skiing down the black diamond slope, what else? They were just a way to force myself out of retreating to some place where I felt safe, which was usually in isolated spot with a book in my hands.

Sorta like my karate. It isn’t really who I am. I had no desire to rule the world or get one-up on any particular person. It was a way to force my way out of my comfort zone and not withdraw from the world. What’s the point to this train of thought? My natural inclination is to withdraw, almost like a person on the spectrum. As I headed into my twenties, I decided I didn’t like being an adult. Nothing I had experienced so far as an adult had lived up to my expectations. Could I return it and ask for a different model? If I could have avoided it, I would have. I guarantee there wasn’t a bit of joy found in the decay of my family throughout most of my life and its inevitable collapse. I’m pretty sure by 1986, I’d had enough of adulthood but had no idea what to do about it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

By the start of 1987 I was at an impasse. I had just finished my first year post-bachelors and it hadn’t been exactly stellar. Debbie was long gone and had even left the ministry. My brother John had been working at a summer camp in Maine and at summer’s end he eventually moved up to the family home at the top of the Bay. He was painting houses, making good money, but hating it at the same time. John was in Salisbury and was deep into his relationship with Laurie. Married yet? I don’t remember. It was like three years before the arrival of their daughter, so very early in all of our lives. Me, I spent that year me living at home with my parents, acting like I still had an ounce of respect for my father and trying not tell my mother she was a fool. If only I could send myself a message.

 

David ’86. Get out of the house now.

It’s fucking up your sanity. David ’21.

 

During the of summer of ’85, I met a woman who worked as the camp nurse. We stayed together from the end of camp through New Years, were together off-and-on during ’86, and then it fell apart by the end of the year. Too young to know I had to start looking for solutions outside the box. Thankfully I received an invitation to look for work in Richmond. It wasn’t something I would’ve ever considered but the offer showed up right when I needed it. Wanda somehow convinced me to go with her and look for work in the big city. I wish I could find out how she reached that moment in her life but I don’t think I’ll ever have that opportunity. I know she had a bad break-up, which was evident when we ended up on Grace Street. It surprised me that she wanted to go back to Richmond but I guess she’d put down roots there. But I think we were both at the point where we needed to get away and stretch our wings, no matter what made us come to that realization. So that’s what we did.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So, how did my savior show up? Why did she show up? It seemed to move awful quick, now that I look back on it. On night we had our first kiss in my studio. Two days later we were on the road. I wish, I so wish, I’d been in another state of mind. She must’ve been extremely determined, to take on someone so… damaged.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

One night we’d our first kiss. The somehow came to the conclusion that moving was the solution to our problems. I suppose everyone convinced me that I needed a change of venue. Simple as that. I showed up the next morning ready to go. We packed up the car, said our goodbyes, and headed on down the road.

Wanda had changed into a long dress and high heels. God, she looked elegant. I thought she looked wonderful, grown up. Me? I was still in my overalls and my muck-out-the-stall boots. Once again, I was outside my element but willing. I was the fool that always volunteered when one was needed. She looked sophisticated and I felt like a hick. So, we started out the journey on an uneven footing, even if it was all my imagination. I felt like I was following in her wake, while she probably felt we were equals and there to support each other. I couldn’t see she might have been struggling just as much I was.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We’d been in Richmond for maybe three years, long enough to settle in and long enough to actually miss the family back home. So we worked it out and made the trip. For me, each visit did less and less for me. How is it possible to admit that going home was bad for you? How can anyone come to that conclusion?

Eventually we hit Centreville and rolled up to Wanda’s house. We limped in, sore after the three-hour trip, and received a hug from her mother. We had about an hour to sit down at the kitchen table and bring each other up to date how everyone was doing. It was good to chat but sooner or later I had to bite the bullet and go home to see my family. At some point we had to talk about them, a topic that always stirred up so much in me. I felt out of control when I slipped up and let it loose. There was simply too much up there. Of course, Wanda and Mrs. Anderson were perfectly willing to pull the string on that pinàta. I hope they didn’t think this impromptu intervention was going to resolve all my issues or get rid of the damage. They cared, which absolves them of the attempt, as fruitless as it was going to be.

No wonder they felt so much sympathy. Wanda and I had grown apart but we still cared about each other. Whatever it was, she laid her hand on my cheek, like she always did, somehow knowing it calmed me down. I don’t think she gave it much thought. Some natural instinct. Me, I closed my eyes and felt her hand there. Her mother was watching me, though. She could see that the touch was a… lifeline to me. Like I was drowning and Wanda’s hand gave me a touch of hope.

To Wanda, it was over in a second. To me, it took a minute to get over the feeling. To her mother, she saw something that needed to be fed, like a fire. I think the next time they talked she suggested we should d go on some sort of road trip together. The next time Wanda and I talked, she asked if I felt like going to the beach. “Oh, yeah. That’s a great idea. It’d be nice to get away for a bit.”

Finally, our schedules matched up. I pulled up at her apartment and knocked on the door. She opened up and there she stood, in shorts and a t-shirt, towels and sunglasses, a change of clothes, alcohol. “Amazing. I think you’re the first girl I’ve met who’s actually ready on time.”

“That’s me. I work, I sleep, I eat, I have a schedule. I have to be on time.”

“Okay. Well, let’s get out of town and go to the beach. I have to stop by my place first for a few things, then we’ll hit the road.”

“So, you’re the one that’s not ready to go.” I heard some energy there but there was little enthusiasm. We had drifted apart and I felt it was all on me.

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”

We got in the car and headed back to my apartment. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes until we made the turn onto Grace Street and passed a small apartment on the left. I think we both turned to look at it as we passed. It had a lot of memories for her, some good, some bad. Me, it was a short but memorable visit. “You know what I think about every time I pass that place?”

“Probably not the same things I do.”

“I seriously doubt that. It was the first time I had a some seriously dirty thoughts about you.”

“Really. And what was that?” with a drawl in her voice, like it no longer truly mattered. Which hurt a bit.

“Well, you didn’t have a key. The only way to get in was to force the front window and then you had to crawl in to unlock the door.”

“So, what’s so x-rated about that?”

“Wanda. I assume it’s not an easy thing to crawl through a window wearing a dress and high-heels. Halfway through, your dress got caught on something and lifted up. I saw just a bit too much or just enough. But there was nothing I wanted to do more than..”

“Okay. I get the picture. In any other setting that would be exciting but I was half in and half out of the window, with my butt sticking out. I’m sure I probably wouldn’t have appreciated it as much as you would have.”

“Well, it’s my dirty memory but I think you would have. I’m sure I would have enjoyed it but it would have been all for you.”

For the first time today, she had a smile. “Okay. I’m sure you’re right about that. I know you’re hard worker. Operative word hard.”

“Well, you made it inside and got the door open. Whatever you were there for, you needed some time. A few years ago I came to the realization that I really need to avoid having time to stew. So I usually have a book with me wherever I go. I didn’t have one then, which left me with too much time to think. After ten minutes I was stewing and then I felt the urge to walk out the door.”

“Why? I just wanted to get something that was mine.”

“I’m not sure I knew that. I know staying home wasn’t an option and I hoped Richmond was going to be a grand new beginning. I hoped we’d have the chance to explore the idea of ‘us.’ You seemed so wrapped up in what you were doing. I remember thinking, ‘Did I bring her down here just to drop her off? Was I just her ride?’ I went in fine then all of a sudden I was in another one of my black moods.”

“That’s not what it was about at all. I was there because I was still angry and really I wanted to toss everything out into the street. But not before I got what I came for.”

“I’m so sorry. For you it was a place of memories, some good and some bad. I guess I was focused on where ‘we’ were going. If something was going to happen, I sure didn’t want it to happen there. I wanted it to be in a loving place where we could be create some wonderful memories together. Now I feel terrible. I’m so sorry, Wanda. You were so consumed with what was bothering you and there I was being selfish the whole time.”

“Wow. I must’ve been really wrapped up in being pissed off. Two years later and now you tell me? It’s not supposed work that way.”

“I’m sorry. I know I’m not the best communicator in the world and despite being loud sometimes, I’m really pretty uptight and introverted. If you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, I know. I agree with the introverted and the uptight part. Yeap, I agree with all of that. Most of the time I have no clue what’s going on in your head.”

I had to laugh. “What’s so funny about that?” she asked.

“The one and only girlfriend I’ve had down here said exactly that. ‘Sometimes I have no clue what’s going on in that head of yours.’ And my laugh should’ve sounded sarcastic and bitter. If it didn’t, tell me so I can do it over.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard some of that. I don’t know what happened to you. You don’t seem to be the same person I grew up with and learned to love.”

I tried to take it as she said it and not read any more into it. We could’ve said those words five-ten years ago and still meant them exactly the same. “I haven’t been the same since that day we caught Dad screwing around. That was four years ago and still it gets me worked up. Living at home that last year certainly didn’t help.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t even guess what it would do me to have go through that. I was hoping at some point you could stop thinking about it and it would heal up. It’s not that simple, is it?”

“No. The only idea I have is to just stop going home. Every time I go it just opens it all up. That’s what Debbie’s did. She doesn’t go home at all. And John moved away, too. It seems like Dad got a free pass. But Mom told us, ‘Stop interfering. It’s our marriage.’ I love Mom but she’s wrong. He’s still a lying snake. It was our life, too. John wants to go firebomb ‘her’ house and I want to take him out back and beat the crap out of him. So, no, I guess it hasn’t healed up much after all.”

We pulled in front of my building. “Come here.” She leaned over and put her head against mine in sympathy. Me? I was still angry but it calmed me down. “I’m sorry, Wanda.”

“Sorry. Why are you sorry?”

“I’m just fucked up. I’m no good for me and I’m no good for you. I think my mind is constantly on simmer. I don’t want to let it out and I don’t want to keep it in. I don’t I even remembers what it’s like being happy. And it’s not a headache that’ll be gone tomorrow. It’s my whole frame of mind. So no, I’m not the same person you knew.”

“Who would be? How could anyone go through that and not come out hurt?”

She put her hand up and rested it on my neck. She slid it around a little, knowing the contact and the warmth would let me focus. “You’ll survive. And you might even let yourself be happy someday.”

“Maybe there’s a book out there: How to Find Happiness.”

“There’s usually a book for everything these days. I don’t think it’s something you can do alone. Being happy is a group project. You need friends to help you find it.”

“Thanks. I love when that eureka ‘lightbulb’ goes off.”

“What’s that?”

“If you think being happy is something you do alone, you’re wrong. If you’re so self-centered you don’t think you need help from anyone, you’re still wrong. I know there’s a term for it but I don’t remember what it is.”

“It’s called narcissism. It’s when you think you’re the center of the universe and everyone’s there to keep you happy.”

“That’s it. Must not’ve been important enough to remember.”

“That’s because you’ve never been self-centered. You always care about everyone around you, even the idiots.”

“Really? Is that how you see me? I’ve always thought I was pretty selfish.”

“It’s not how I see you. It’s what I know about you.”

“Ah. You always make me feel better.” With a little sniffle. “You should bottle that stuff. I’d take it every day.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We went in to get the few things I forgot: the cooler for the beer, ice, maybe some granola bars, a few other things. I asked her to take a look at the music I had, so we’d have something to listen to on the way. I grabbed something from my desk and headed to the kitchen.

There we were trying to get out of town. Thinking about my family always got me so worked up. A lot. I spent all my time trying to avoid thinking about it. Whenever I opened that door it was like a flood. There was way too much for my brain contain. Yet it was self-destructive to keep it all bottled up inside. The only person I ever talked to about it was my brother and that wasn’t a solution. We might talk about it but since it got us both worked up, it wasn’t therapeutic in any way. The only agreement we came to was that we both wanted to burn ‘her’ house down and we both wanted to take him out back and whip him unceasingly. No, it hadn’t healed up at all.

Yet she was pretty good at pulling me out of these moods or by distracting me.

“Here. Have a beer and take a seat while I get this stuff together. How about we talk about you instead.” I said, hoping I could distract myself from my dark thoughts. “You’ve got to have more of a life than I do. Tell me something good.”

“Good? Like what.”

“I’m glad you’re here. I love spending time with you. If you have a boyfriend, he must be a helluva guy to let you go to the beach. Or are we picking him up on the way?”

“No. David.” With a bit of exasperation.

“Unless you told him I’m gay. Is that it? You did, didn’t you? That’s the only way he’d let you go. Don’t expect me to go all gay when I meet him. If I did that for anyone it would be you, but it’s not happening.”

“You’re funny. A little. No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I work, I do laundry, I sleep, I work. Oh, and I eat and I get a bit wider each day and my boobs don’t want to get any bigger.”

“Wow. Let me that chew that over. Mmmm…. Here you go: Don’t you worry. Puberty is gonna hit soon and then everything will start growing.” She pinched my arm. “Ow! Your boobs are just the right size and I love you just the way you are. You’re perfect just like that.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your confidence in me and my boobs.”

“You know I care about you.” and leaning toward her chest, “and you girls, too.”

“Don’t talk to my boobs.”

“Okay, okay. Maybe you don’t bring them out to play enough.” She raised her eyebrows, trying to think of a bitchy reply but I cut her off. “Listen. You know I’d like to see you happy. Being the great guy I am, if it means so much to you I’ll pay for you to get those implants things, if you really want to be bigger. If I pay for it, though, I get to inspect the end product to make sure we got our money’s worth.”

“Oh lord. Give me a minute to think that through. What do you mean inspect the end product? I’m not sure if I want to know if that’s like squeezing the melons at the store.”

“Let’s think about it. Would they be like plums, oranges, grapefruit, pineapples, or watermelon? Or haven’t you thought that far ahead? Watermelons. Lord, that would be incredible, wouldn’t it! Will they feel like a peach or more like a baseball? After a few years will they look like my mother or will they still be like.. uh…” I had been doing so well. At that moment it probably looked like I’d vacated my head.

I squeezed my eyes shut real tight and reached up to put pressure on my eyes as hard as I could. Try it. We’ve all done it at some point.

If Wanda had anything to say at that moment, it should’ve been, “David, why are you under the bed?” What came out was, “Oh, look at your face. You are so red! That’s what you look like when your foot is in your mouth! Where is my camera? Oh, God. New Crayolla Color: Totally Embarassed Red.”

“I’m so happy for you. I’m glad I gave you the chance to laugh your head off. I’ll be back in ten minutes to help you up off the floor.” With a little smirk. I gave her the time she needed to get it out of her system. “Alright, alright. Jeez! Happy birthday to you.”

I leaned against the counter, crossed my arms, and waited. She had tears in her eyes. What could be better than that?

“What was that!”

“You know how I am when the thoughts are flowing. Anything can come out of my mouth. We were talking about fruits and vegetables and baseballs. Then I hit on two words I never.. ever put together: Mom and Boobs. Boobs and Mom. It dredges up a memory I’d really like to get rid of. I had to go home for something. When I went in the house, I called out for her. Oh, I found her. She came down the hallway into the living room. She was stark naked! All the way. We were both mortified and I think the only time anyone uses that word is when they’re talking about their parents naked.”

“So, when those two words come together–Mom and Boobs–my brain pulls up this memory and puts it up there, twenty feet tall–my mother naked. My brain shut down completely. That’s probably when it looked like no-one was at home. I was inside curled into a fetal ball.”

“That sounds terrible but that’s my new favorite color.”

“Good for you. It’s good to see you laugh like that, even if it was at my expense.”

“OMG. I’m going to remember your face forever. One minute you were there, the next you were gone. There was no-one home. This is what I think I’m going to do. We’ll be out somewhere and I’m going to lean in and whisper in your ear. You’re going to expect something soft and sexy. But I’m going to whisper, ‘Big Boobs and Mom. Mom and Big Boobs.’ ”

“Listen to you being all creative and evil at the same time. I’m proud of you. Doesn’t even bother me if you say it now. You’re going to have to catch me when I’m totally preoccupied and slip it past my defenses. But I’m prepared now. Forewarned.”

“We’ll see, won’t we? If I could see your face again like that, I could die a happy woman.”

“I’ll try to dredge up any other memories that might leave you on the floor laughing your head off.”

“Oh, please do. You don’t even have to get me birthday gifts anymore. So, after all this and all that, you’re just a typical guy. Always focused on boobs. You were always looking at my butt and trying to sneak a look down my shirt. What a horny little boy you were… are.”

“I never…”

“David. Please.”

“Alright. Yes. I’ve always enjoyed looking at you. You were the first girl in my life. How could I not be smitten with you? It hit me at some point that of all the women I’ve known, I’ve spent the most time with you.” I stopped what I was doing to look up and spend a moment to look at her, something I always enjoyed.

“What?”

“I just never had to time to just look. Something just always got in the way or we were never left alone. It makes me feel like I’m the luckiest guy in the world. I can’t even look at you now without being caught up in how beautiful you are.”

“Aren’t you sweet. Every once in a while something slips out of that mouth of yours that is.. so.. perfect.”

“I tell like it is. If you don’t believe me, I guess I need to take the time to show you how true it is.”

She put her hand on my face briefly. “Thank you. If anyone else said that to me, I wouldn’t believe them.”

“You are. I saw it a long time ago.”

“Yopu’re my brother or step-brother. I’m not sure that counts but I appreciate it. How did we end up talking about my boobs or lack thereof? Is this just the typical male obsession with boobs?”

“Not really. Or maybe. IDK. But seeing my Mom like that really gave me an aversion to big boobs. Probably why I think you’re perfect just the way you are. If you had big ‘ones,’ I probably wouldn’t even be talking to you.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“But I remember you complaining once in high school. It seems like over time I pick up bits and pieces of information that fit together.”

“Really? You’ve put more thought into this than I have and they’re not even your boobs.”

“You wound me. If I’ve picked up information here and there, I store it away on the chance it might be useful.”

“So, in your head you have file named Wanda’s Boobs? I don’t know if that’s creepy or if I should feel all warm and fuzzy. Nope, mostly creepy. I think the goal is for me to do all the hard work, just so you can feel me up in the end.”

“No, that’s not it. It’s for you after all. If you come out of it feeling better about yourself, then I’m all for it. But we might want to put it all down in writing to make sure my investment’s secure.”

“Your investment? They’re my boobs! You’re not going to own a part of my body, even if you did pay for it! You’re really something.”

“Well, maybe we can work something out, like a time share. On certain days I get to stay over, you know, and occupy the premises, if you know what I mean. nudge-nudge–wink-wink. You’d only have to commit to one or two days a week instead being available every day. But if you go for the deluxe watermelon ‘models,’ we’ll have to rewrite that contract. I’m sure I’m gonna want to be there more often. Think of it like sharing a child.” I was trying, really trying to keep a straight face and sound sincere.

“David! It’s not like we’re sharing a child!!”

“Two children. It would be more like sharing two children.” With a grin on my face. “You are so beautiful when you’re angry. I’m glad we had this talk. It’s really cheered me up.”

She leaned over like she was going to share something intimate. Did she? Oh, no, no, no. She reached up and pinched my earlobe. “You know, sometimes you really get under my skin.”

“I knew that already.”

I know she meant it, too. This wasn’t a first-grade-pinch-my-ear moment. This was a moment of “Do-you-hear-what-I’m-saying? and if there’s a chance you’re not totally focused on what I’m saying, this will make sure there’s no doubt you need to listen.”

This wasn’t a humor moment. “I’m listening.”

“Thank you for reminding that there are times you’re cute, charming, loving, considerate, and there are times you can be irritating, a button pusher, and sometimes you open your mouth when it might be wiser to keep it shut.”

“Ah… I”… Minefield! Danger!… I raised my hand.

“David. Put your hand down! What?”

“I remember when my girlfriends reached that point. They’d have that same look on their faces, but they also looked like they were ready to put a pillow over my face. I’d appreciate it if you can just come out and tell me when I’ve reached that level of… irritation.”

“Oh, I will. I guarantee it.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Let’s move on from that whole weird conversation. Can we talk about something besides my boobs? Though I’ll admit that was the longest discussion I’ve ever had about them. How about we talk about your equipment.”

“Why? Oh, alright. It’s only fair. I’ll talk but I don’t want to disappoint you. I lost my… you know, virginity when I was sixteen. I was pretty pleased with myself. I picked it up right away, if you catch my drift. A week later my girlfriend and I went to Salisbury to meet her family, do some shopping, and wrapped up the day going to the Zoo. It was going pretty well, lot of hand holding and kisses and getting my engine running, if you know what I mean?”

“Mmm mmm mmm uh huh mmmph.” Trying to be creative about it, acting like I was shifting a car through its different gears while tossing in a few moans and whatnots. I knew it would be damn irritating, too.

“David, what the hell are you doing?”

“Sound effects. That’s my motor. I don’t want to lose my audience.”

“Oh. Please. You don’t have to add sound effects and you don’t need to get up and demonstrate your ‘techniques’ either.”

“Jeez. You are seriously unromantic. Anywhoo, like I said, it had been a pretty nice day. We saw the bears, the ducks, the geese, the ostriches, the horses. Up until that moment I was completely happy with my equipment, as you call it. Then a horse came over to visit. Maybe he was taking a break or we interrupted him and his girlfriend. His thing… was dragging on the freaking ground! It was… humungous. It was like three or four feet long. My balloon popped. My girlfriend looked over at me and saw my expression and laughed her head off. I had one week to feel like I was the king of the world. Then I felt mere mortal again.”

“If you thought I was always hung like the proverbial horse, I’m sorry. Not the case. No, I’m just an above-average-kinda guy, if you catch my drift. I get by on what I have and I’ve had no complaints. I know how to operate my ‘equipment’ just fine. If you have a… uh… a certain measurement for picking your guys, like two or three feet, then I guess we’ll always be in this ‘friend’ zone.”

“You poor thing. Life is so hard. Sorry, no pun intended. Well, that just makes me curious. If we can spend ten minutes worrying about my boobs, we can talk ten minutes overanalyzing your equipment.”

“Oh, yeah, guys always love doing that. Mr. Simpson. Drop your shorts and cough, please.”

“Please. That can’t compare with what the Ob/Gyn does to us. Next time I have to go, you’re going with me.”

“Really? Inside? With you? That’s.. that’s.. God! I guarantee you have zero curiosity but if you need me to go, I’ll do it. I’m sure I won’t have my eyes open, though.”

“You wouldn’t even make it thirty seconds.”

“I think that’s kinda unfair. You know I’d do anything for you and all you have to do is ask. I don’t remember ever making that promise but I feel like I did.”

“Yeah, I don’t remember the exact day but that sounds right. You’re so lucky I haven’t taken advantage of that.”

“Great, just great. There you go. Put a sticky note on your fridge: Torment David.”

“That’s funny. You know I already have that one on my fridge? Brush teeth, make bed, cup of coffee, torment David.”

“Rnnrrg.”

“Wow, I don’t even know what that sound was.”

“That’s the same sound you make when I aggravate you.”

“Oh, yeah. Now I recognize it.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Anyway. Back to my ‘equipment.’ I think there must be two kinds of guys: Ones that have way too much and all the others that want more. Maybe girls are the same that way. Ones with boobs that are way too big and ones that want more. Either too much or not enough. I’m hoping love will take care of that altogether.” By this point I was wrapping up collecting the drinks and snacks and she was finishing her beer. I did want to go to the beach but if I got to spend time with her, it didn’t matter where it was.

“What do you mean by that? Love taking care of it?”

“I’m hoping if I’m truly in love, then nothing will matter. Short, tall, doctor or waitress, white or black or latino, big boobs or small, hung like a horse or not, rich or poor, VW or Porché, efficiency or house. Nothing should matter except her happiness. His happiness. Something like that. I doubt I’ve ever been in love, so maybe I don’t what the hell I’m talking about. But I’ve got to have something to work towards.”

“Considering that I grew up in an EFFed up home, it’s no wonder my goals don’t revolve around money or a car or a house. If I end up going out with some pretty little thing that’s got an intellect as thick as a piece of paper and only interested in ‘stuff,’ just kick me, will you? But I don’t think I’ll abandon what I believe in just for some pretty face.”

“Shouldn’t it be like that? Am I wrong? Is it just a pipedream?” I asked with a bit of despair and hope at the same time.

“David. I don’t know either. I understand how you’ve reached that point, after all you’ve been through. You always have to have hope, above all else. It’s the one thing you never give up, no matter what you’re going through.”

“Yeah, well. Like I would know.”

“Just can’t turn that brain off, can you?”

“No. I can’t. I wish.. I wish I could get it to just dwell on good thoughts, happy memories. I’m so tired of all the rest. It’s just so tiresome. You never know what’s going to come out.” I finished with the cooler and got up.

“Are you finally ready? Bikini, lipstick, cologne?”

“It’s called a thong, Wanda. A ‘man thong.’ Not bikini. Sorta like a ‘man bag.’ But yes, I’m ready.” I held out my hand and she took it, like she always has. “I always liked holding your hand.” I said.

“Me too. It always makes me feel good.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We got the car started and pointed in the right direction. We had a two-hour drive and we took the time to knock down some beers and a couple wine coolers. We had music to listen to and I got to drive and look over at how beautiful she was. “What?”

“Do you know you’ve been beautiful for a long time? I don’t remember middle school, it was too traumatic. But when you got to high school, you started growing up and you were pretty when you got there. If I look at you now, I can tell as time goes by, you’re just going to get more beautiful each day. Or maybe I’m just doing a better job of paying attention. I hope you believe me.”

“David!”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I try to avoid letting you get to me and you still slip in there and get to me.”

“I guess you have to decide if you trust me in ‘there’, wherever ‘there’ is, or… or you don’t. Anything’s better than the terrible moods I’ve been in and thinking about you always cheers me up.”

“Thank you. Well, I guess that’s why I’m here then.”

“Couldn’t be better.” I said. “It’s like having a slurpy every day. What could be better?”

“I’m a slurpy? Do something about that brain.”

“Tell me what to say and I’ll say it.”

“No, it doesn’t work like that. You’re doing fine all by yourself.”

“Good. Good. I’m sure you’ll tell me when my foot is in my mouth.”

“Oh, I guarantee it. And I’ll have my camera, too.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We slowed down as we headed deeper into Virginia Beach and navigated down to a beach neither one of us had ever been to. We finally passed by the boardwalk and found a parking lot. Everything got loaded up and we dragged it down to the beach until we found a nice spot. The blanket was pulled out, tossed down, and we shed our clothes. She had this metallic blue/green bikini, that was perfect. It was hot and the air was dry, despite being at the beach. We needed to get sunscreen on before we started to bake.

When I picked her up there was canyon between us. We might’ve been sitting next to each other, but I could feel this immense distance between us. She started out frosty or uninterested, I guess. No, it was more like she’d been hurt and she wasn’t going to stick her neck out again.

So, she put sunscreen on her front and handed it to me so I would do her back. We didn’t even use words but it got done. Don’t expect a little essay here about finding all five of her erogenous zones and that it turned into a love fest on the beach. We had started with a canyon between us and now we were yelling across the interstate. It was progress but it was balanced on a dime. I have a lifetime of decisions I thought were logical that ended up going up in smoke.

So, I put sunscreen on and she took the bottle from me and got my back covered. “Thank you.” I said.

“You’re welcome.” Like she was on automatic.

By then we had settled down on the blanket but soon the heat would force us to get in the water to cool off. I was laying down on my stomach and she was laying on her back, trying to keep the sun out of her eyes. We were trying to finish off the alcohol but it was just too hot to catch a buzz. As quick as we drank it, our bodies simply sweat it out of us.

‘So, when’s the last time you made it to the beach?”

“Me? I haven’t been to the beach since I was ten.”

“Ten!? Really? Ten? Us pale white people go every year. Was there somewhere else you wanted to go? We could’ve done anything you wanted.”

“No, this is where I want to be.”

“Your brother used to cut the grass on the camp tractor. Every day the sun baked him and he got darker and darker. Heck, you probably remember that. Every year he left early to go to South Carolina. It’s still a mystery what you did down there. I wish I could’ve gone with you.”

“Yeah, getting darker isn’t really a priority for ‘us’.”

“Us. Amazing how a word can be so simple one second and the next it means so much more.”

“We’ll have to make a list of words to show you how different they are from how you use them and how I hear them. I’m not sure you really want to know but I think you should be prepared.”

“Prepared? Prepared for what?”

“I just want you to understand. After all your training, I’m not sure how you’ll react if someone says something you don’t like.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right about that. I know I’ll do what I think is right but I’m not swallowing anything anymore. Let alone anyone hurt you in any way. There are times when I feel like I understand what it’s like ‘over there’ and then there are moments where I realize I have no clue. Especially when Dad when slips up and lets out what he really thinks. But I hope you don’t hold back for my sake. I think I have an open mind.”

“I know you do. You do know there weren’t really any white kids in our neighborhood? If there was a scrawny little white boy running around, riding his bike, digging in the dirt with the black kids, that was you. Only you.”

“Really? Until you said that, I never gave it a thought.”

“I know. That’s what I loved about you. It didn’t mean a thing to you.” She used that word again, without hesitation.

Me, I think I flushed a bit at it. There goes the “L” word again. I had used that word plenty of times in the past but usually during the hormone-fueled pursuit of some girl at camp. Not the most glowing recommendation, is it? I had to turn my head, like the sun was in my face, but it wasn’t. I snuck my hand up to scratch an eye but it was really to try to unobtrusively remove any tears that tried to sneak out. It seemed so easy for her to use the “L” word and every time I even approached it, I choked on it. I felt we were in two different places. Maybe it was easier for her while I had serious doubts I would ever find it.

She reached her hand over and placed it on my arm to bring me back, I guess. “I was hoping that coming down here would you give a chance to be happy.”

“Here as in the beach or here as in Richmond?”

“I guess both would work but mainly Richmond.”

“Ah, well. Maybe I have no clue how to. Maybe when I was younger? I don’t know.”

“I’m sure we’ll get you there someday. I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks. Tell me when you have a plan.”

“It sounds like you had some great times working at camp. I wish I’d been there.”

“I… It… Mmm.”

“Mmm? What’s that?”

“You know, for the longest time you were my little sister. I loved having a little sister. We’re not really related but I loved you like a sister for the longest time.”

“Yeah, it was the same for me. It wasn’t the typical brother-sister set up, was it?”

“No. Life would have been so boring without you. My breath kinda disappears when I imagine what life would be like without you here. I’m not sure I can explain it.”

“Are we still talking about camp?”

“Kinda. I don’t think we could’ve handled having you work there. We were seriously overprotective. I don’t either one of us could’ve…”

I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. My train of thought stopped and it stretched into a longer than normal pause.

She stuck a finger in my ribs. “You were saying? Couldn’t… what?”

“I know I didn’t want to watch some guy try to sweet talk you or have you end up with your heart broken. Okay. Let me be blunt. I doubt I could’ve stood by while some guy tried to seduce you. I don’t think I ever met anyone I thought was good enough for you, at school or at camp.”

“That does put a different light on everything, doesn’t it? I think maybe it would’ve bothered you more than my brother. I felt he was always looking for my receipt so he could take me back when no-one was looking.”

“Ha! Maybe, maybe. I don’t know. I’ve never tried to get him to open up that box. I’m not sure I want to know why he treats you the way he does. I think someone promised him he was going to be an only child and then you showed up. Then I think he was waiting for someone to come get you after that initial trial period.”

“Yeah, I think that’s it. I’ve been told I was a surprise to everyone.”

“I don’t care if you were a surprise. I’m glad you’re here and that they kept you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“I know at some point I was tired of how my brother treated me and there was no way I was going to treat you like that. I always know where you’re at and each day I think about you, some days more than others. I might have a pissy day but I know I’ll have one happy moment because that’s when I get to think about you.”

“There you go again. Saying the most perfect thing at just the right moment.”

“Ah… I… Oh…”

“Oh, relax David. I wish you didn’t think so much. You spend so much time overanalyzing everything that sometimes you miss out on what’s important.”

“I don’t doubt that. It’s not until I’m done whatever I’m doing and look back, then I see all the things I missed along the way. No, I don’t doubt that at all.”

“What were we talking about? Oh, Camp. I started working there when I was fourteen. Just old enough to cut grass. John spent all those years cutting grass and like usual, I couldn’t sit still. I cut grass, I washed dishes, became a lifeguard, a counselor, ran the camping trips. I worked there when I was fourteen until I turned twenty-three. A lot of memories. A typical teenage experience.”