In Hot Water

Author’s note:

This is the first part of a slow burn about a brother and sister who reunite and grow closer than most. They discover secrets invading their work, school, and family life, as they navigate coffee, sex, abandonment, social contracts, fish, Easter candy, encryption, protests, binge drinking, and King Tut.

My editor Liz deserves enormous credit. She generously poured her insight and wisdom into this story, and it is much better because of her efforts. Thank you, Liz.

All characters over eighteen.

Part 1 of 6.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 1

“Get whatever you want,” says the Red Haired Lady. Her dark glare burns at me across the table. “I don’t suppose you have any money, do you?”

“No,” I say.

“That was his little addition.” She lifts a plastic saucer off a stack next to the window, and tells me I need to do something for her.

“I need to?”

“Yes.” The Red Haired Lady splits her wooden chopsticks, and scrapes one down the side of the other, carving away tiny splinters.

I try to ask a question, but she holds up her hand, and I stop.

She says they can take care of all my problems. Money, work, school, everything.

I say, “I can do all that on my own,” but I have no idea.

Outside the window, a bullhorn screeches, then a voice barks garbled orders over a loudspeaker. Sirens wail in the distance.

“I didn’t want to do this,” she says. “But think of your sister.”

“What about her?” I’m always thinking about Jessica. But that’s not what she means.

“This affects her too.”

“She knows,” I say. “We’ve talked about it.”

“Yes,” says the Red Haired Lady, with a hint of a smile. “I imagine you have.” Crimson nail polish slides something in front of me.

A chill runs up my spine, and I’m thinking about the Easter basket I took from my sister when we were little. Hiding under Mom’s blue birdbath in the garden and feasting on stolen treats.

The Red Haired Lady speaks more, but I’m miles away. Fiery curls dissolve into black rain pouring over clear bright emeralds. Five sharp talons pierce my back, and pin my face against a wall of gold paint. Above me, a black and blue window screams, shattering the emeralds into daggers, but the talons hold me tight in a bath of warm fruit.

“I’m almost impressed,” she says. “In public, like that.”

For the first time since we sat down, I hope my phone is dead.

The Red Haired Lady takes a bite of fish, and her curls bounce up and down, as she chews. She wistfully turns her head to the side, as though she’s admiring an invisible landscape. “Do you know how I found out?” She reaches into her purse, and the smooth bronze tan of her knuckles fades to white, as she waves the trophy back and forth. “Your father. Is. Not. Careful. And neither are his children, it would seem.”

She keeps talking, but I’m back under the birdbath. Then I’m wrapped in a purple comforter, safe and warm, in a bed that’s not my own.

“Didn’t he cheat on my mother with you?” I ask.

The Red Haired Lady studies me. “I seem to recall you had a girlfriend. What was her name?”

“Rachel. We broke up.”

One thin eyebrow floats higher. “Was she not exciting enough? Clearly Jessica shares your taste for things.” She takes a tall drink of water. “You’re not going to deny it?”

“I don’t see the point.”

“Hah.” The Red Haired Lady roars back, and her lips carve a smile of pristine ivory. “You own it, I’ll give you that. Now I see why she likes you.”

Sirens pierce my ears from outside the restaurant, as I look at the trophy, held tight in her fist. “What are you going to do with that?”

“It depends. You can help me, and go back to whatever sort of life you’re living. Hang out with Rachel, or–” She stops herself. “Whoever.”

“Or?” I say.

“Or a court reporter transcribes all the sordid details of your life.” The Red Haired Lady rests her chopsticks across the tray in front of her. “What do you want to do?”

I’m not sure how to answer.

***

This all started the day I broke up with Rachel, right after my sister moved in.

See, the house has this problem with the hot water heater.

The day before school starts, I’m scrubbing shampoo into my hair when the water loses its heat. But it doesn’t turn cold right away. A brief window of a few seconds allows me to rinse, before the stream becomes a glacial torrent. I crank the stainless steel knob all the way hot, and that rejuvenates the warmth, but it won’t last. Hot water pours over my head, as I run my fingers through my hair as fast as I can. Then the water starts to cool again. Satisfied that I’m clear of all suds, I shut off the water. Pipes clunk behind square white tiles, and the cold flow over me dwindles to a few drops. I shiver and freeze as I reach through the vinyl curtain, grasping for a towel.

“Did you use it all?” Jessica yells from down the hallway.

“I think so.” I step onto the bathmat and wipe my sides as hard as I can stand, hoping it produces some warmth. It does not.

“When does the bus come by?” Her voice carries through the cracked door, but I don’t see her. “I need to go buy stuff for school.”

“In a bit.” I wrap the towel around my waist. “You can come in.”

Jessica pushes the door open and stands in the doorway. She’s barefoot, bundled in a white bathrobe, with her straight black hair tied up in a bun, and a long silver nail file poking out of her clenched fist. Her green eyes flare at me briefly, then turn to the shower.

“I tried to go as fast as I could.”

Jessica groans. “How long did you wait after Mom’s shower before you went in?”

“She left 20 minutes ago.” I pull my robe off the back of the bathroom door. “But I don’t know when she showered.”

Jessica curls her lip up on one side, then turns and stomps out of the bathroom. The thuds of her heels grow fainter, as I fasten my robe, and hang up my towel.

A toilet, a stand-up shower with a detachable showerhead, and a small counter with a sink are all squeezed into the tiny bathroom. The door opens across from the shower, and the toilet sits off to the side. It’s not bad for a single person, but tight with two. A light fixture hangs from the ceiling, next to a fan. Natural light spreads in from a thin rectangular frosted window above the toilet, but the window does not open.

I wear my robe down to the kitchen in search of a Pop-Tart, but all that greets me on the counter is a bowl of peaches. I snatch up a piece of fruit and take a bite before checking the ripeness. Juice dribbles down my arm, and into the sleeve of my robe. I scurry over to the sink, and raise my elbow up high to let the juice drain off my wrist, while doing my best to slurp up the parts of the fruit still in front of my mouth.

“Fucking hell,” says Jessica. “It’s all steamed up in here.”

I wipe my hands, and head to my room to get dressed, but I get distracted by movement and stop by the bathroom. The door arcs wide open and Jessica stands over the sink, still wrapped in her robe, waving some dark colored wand over one eye. I lean against the doorframe and watch my sister work.

“We need to make a list for Mom,” says Jessica, her focus not leaving the mirror. “All the shit that’s wrong with this place.”

“She knows about the water heater already. We can tell her about the fogging up. Maybe somebody can fix the fan.”

“I’m making a list. In writing. Like Dad would do.”

“Yeah, that will probably get her attention. Did the list thing come from Donna? I don’t remember that being a thing.”

“I think so. The Red Haired Lady is very structured.”

“You still call her that?”

“She is that,” says Jessica, moving the makeup wand to her other eye. “It’s all fake, just like her work.”

“She at the same place?”

“Yes, she’s in management now. Hard to believe she was a lowly temp when they got married. Were you there for that? I don’t remember.”

“Dad insisted that I be there, and Mom wasn’t happy about taking me. We just stood in the back during the ceremony, and then left.”

“It’s kind of a blur to me now.” Jessica drops the wand into a makeup bag on the counter, and begins working some other colored implement across her lips. “Dad never mentions anything before his current happy life.” She rolls her eyes at the word ‘happy.’

I pull myself off the doorway, and round the corner to my room to get dressed. I need to get a few things before classes start too, but first I have to get to work. I grab my phone, then march down the hall toward the kitchen door.

I shout, “The bus’ll be here soon,” as I stand holding the door open. “There’s some peaches on the counter if you’re hungry.” White paint flakes off the porch steps, as I head toward the bus stop. When I hit the gravel driveway, a gust of warm September air blows across my face. It feels good on my skin, still frozen from the shower’s parting kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 2

Garrett asks, “How long has she been there?”

“A few days,” I say.

“This is that new house?” He leans against the side of my blue cubicle. Steam fogs up the lenses of his thick black glasses, as he sips from his mug.

“It’s old but new to us.”

Garrett lowers his arm, and his ID badge twists around at the end of a black ribbon strung around his neck. “Going okay there?”

“Jessica uses a lot of water.”

“Girls do that. You ready?”

I stand and gaze across the endless sea of tiny non-offices inside the first floor of the sprawling corporate complex. Corvis Consolidated International, Inc. The biggest of big business. Dad works in senior management, and got me a job as an intern, though I have no idea what I’ll be doing here. Corvis designs, manufactures, and markets everything from consumer products, to water filters, to farm machinery. Their new electric toothbrush is selling particularly well.

Garrett takes his lean off the upholstered wall, and starts down the corridor along the outside of cubicle city. His badge dances in front of him, flashing a bright yellow streak, as it catches the overhead fluorescent lights. I follow his tall, slender frame past two-story-high square windows with crisscrossing steel beams, and down to the other end of the cubicle farm, a football field away from my desk. By the time we get to the first hallway intersection, I’ve already lost my bearings. This is only my second day.

We leave the sea of pale blue cubicles, and march under a beige archway with three elevators on either side. Garrett points up at the passageway in front of us. A mirror shaped like the bottom of a globe hangs from the ceiling. “Always watch those.”

“How did you get stuck showing me around?”

“I sort of volunteered. Figured since I know your sister, it would be better than a random stranger.”

“You met her at school?” I ask.

“Kind of. My buddy dates a friend of hers.” Garrett leads us into a new ocean of cubicles, these ones tan colored.

“You know her well?”

“Well enough. Your sister’s pretty cool. I don’t envy your morning fight for the bathroom though. She might be the only woman I know who is crabbier than Robyn before she’s had coffee.”

“She used to yell at me when we were little.”

I don’t really know my sister. We’d been apart for most of the last ten years, since our parents split when I was eight. Dad moved to Seattle to work at the main corporate campus, and took Jessica with him. I stayed in Portland with Mom. We saw each other at Christmas, but that was about it.

I say, “You probably know my sister better than I do. Do you know my dad too?”

“I know him by reputation, but I’ve never met him.” Garrett stops at the intersection of two wide hallways, and I wait next to him. The floor morphs into some kind of hard synthetic grey material, and the ceiling vaults to at least twice as high as it is over the cubicles. As we wait, a man in orange overalls pulls a motorized cart across our path. A long handle protrudes out the front of the cart, and the man presses several buttons as he tows his cargo. He changes his hand position and a horn like a big rig truck blows, making me jump. A black ribbon hangs around the man’s neck, with his ID hung at the bottom. A red stripe streaks across the side of his badge, where Garrett’s is yellow. Atop the cart’s trailer, a tall, bulky piece of blue machinery wobbles, with bolts and knobs sticking out at varying heights, making it look like a big electric pin cushion. The man nods as he crosses our path. He’s clearly used to moving these devices around.

Garrett crosses the intersection, and I follow him into a manufacturing complex with an even taller ceiling. Walls of chain link steel two stories high line the corridor, though they don’t come close to reaching the ceiling, which makes the place feel like an airplane hangar. Secure access doors sporadically litter the steel chain walls, granting entry to cages, like doors opening out of a hallway. Something beeps off to the side, and I turn to see a man wearing orange coveralls and a white hardhat pulling open a door.

As we walk across the concrete floor, some machinery at the far end whines like an engine on high idle. It sounds like my dad’s car when he leaves it running to keep the AC cold. He dropped off Jessica the other day. She transferred to school here, and is staying with Mom and me. We’re in a 3-bedroom, 1-bath bungalow in need of repairs, so there’s plenty of room. My sister stepped out of Dad’s car onto the driveway and squinted into the sun. A white knit shirt snapped tight around the hourglass curves of her sides above worn blue jeans. Other than her hair, she’s the same as when I saw her the previous winter. Pale, slim, taller than Mom, but a couple inches shorter than me.

I leaned against the post atop the porch steps, and watched the sun glow green in her eyes. Then I catch myself starting at her V-neck, and feel like a creep. I don’t think you’re supposed to admire your sister’s cleavage, but I can’t help it. I find myself wondering how she chose that particular shirt, since she’s only getting dropped off to be with family. I’ve never seen her wear anything that showcases her boobs like this. Maybe she’s trying to attract a guy here already. Then I realize I don’t know why girls wear any of the stuff they do.

“That’s all you’ve got?” Dad asks, squishing his blue polo shirt against the open car door. His dark hair slicks back with some kind of gel holding it in place, over less than the six feet he claims. Mom used to make fun of him when he said he was fully six feet tall, and I wonder if I’ll look like him in a couple decades. People say we look the same, minus our hair.

“Yeah, I brought the rest over on Friday.” Jessica hoists an oversized handbag, and leans to offset its weight.

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” says my mother, across the top of the stairs from me.

“I had to come down anyway,” says Dad. “I’m taking some boxes of work over to a new project manager. Then we’re going to look at investment properties. Jessica knows Kirsten.”

Jessica says, “Mm-Hmm,” and pushes the car door shut without taking her eyes off her phone. She climbs the steps to where mom and I stand, and fresh citrus aroma splashes over me when she gets to the top. “Bye Dad. Thanks for the ride.”

“I’ll be by this way again soon. We’ll get dinner.”

I say, “Okay,” and hold up my palm in a half wave.

Gravel crunches, as Dad backs up his black BMW, and he’s gone down the street as quickly as he arrived.

“Let me give you the full tour,” says Mom. She pulls the kitchen door open. “This house has some quirks, but we’re working on it.”

I hold out my hand for Jessica to go in first, and she looks up from her phone at me. “It’s good to see you, Alex.” I haven’t seen her in eight months. She looks better than I remember.

A horn honks in front of me.

Garrett says, “Watch out,” and slaps his hand across my chest.

A forklift rushes across the passage in front of us, beeping every few seconds to announce its presence.

“You awake?”

“Not really,” I say. “I was up late.”

“Already partying with Jessica?”

“No, girlfriend keeps me up.”

“Oh. I see how it is.”

“It’s not like that. She just moved away and we text way too late.”

“Watch out for the distance stuff. That can get hard. In here.”

We walk into a photography studio, and a man with glasses even thicker than Garrett’s has me sit in the middle of a dizzying array of cameras. The man then takes his chair behind a computer with two rows of three monitors, hiding him from my view.

“Todd?” says the man behind the screens.

“What?”

“You Todd?”

“No, I’m Alex.”

“Oh, hang on.” Frantic typing from behind the wall of monitors, as I sit waiting. “Okay, just sit and don’t move. It’s going to take a second.”

“Who’s Todd?” Garrett stands next to the badge technician. “Another new hire?”

“Yeah, same hire date and manager as Alex here, according to the note. His actual direct report listing has a different boss though.”

The cameras around me flash several times.

“Okay, you’re good.” The man yanks a card out of a machine to his left, and presses it inside a clear laminated case hanging from a thick black ribbon. He holds the lanyard out, and I string it around my neck. The badge inside has my name, and the photo he just took of me. A yellow stripe runs down the left side, like somebody had brushed a thumb-wide strip of paint next to my fake grin.

“Now you don’t have to follow me around like a lost puppy,” says Garrett. “Wear that thing around your neck whenever you’re here. Was today your first day of school?”

“Tomorrow is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 3

The first day of class they toss a syllabus at me, and tell me to pay attention for ten weeks. A few lectures go like that and then I’m done for the day.

Jessica and I ride the same bus to the university, but then our schedules split, so I don’t see her after that. I catch the MAX train west to my new job in the afternoon, only there’s nothing to do yet at work, so I’m texting my girlfriend most of the day. I get home after six that first night.

The evening hours tick away, and I’m stuck to my phone. It doesn’t hold much of a charge, so I have to plug it in twice to keep up with the girlfriend, and I burn the whole night staring at the screen’s glow. After a lengthy lull in our conversation, I check the time, and it’s two minutes to my alarm. I lay back for the final seconds inside the womb of my bed.

The front door slams shut. That’s expected. Mom leaving for work.

Then a clunk through pipes, and the hiss of running water. That’s not expected.

I bolt upright, and sweep my robe off the floor.

“Jess,” I say through the door and the rush of water. “I’ll be faster today.”

“I can’t do that again,” says my sister, yelling back through the noise.

“You’re going to use it all,” I say.

“You used it all yesterday. It’s my turn.”

Morning grime doesn’t come off without a shower. No amount of clean clothes or hand washing fixes that. I plod down the hall to the kitchen and consider my breakfast options. The bowl of peaches still sits on the counter, but I’m dirty enough already.

My sister’s shriek wails down the hallway. “Oh my god, that’s cold.”

The hiss of water fades.

“Isn’t it?” I shout back from the cereal cupboard. A couple more indecipherable curses come from the bathroom. “Did you get stuck with shampoo still in your hair?”

“I didn’t wash it,” says Jessica. The door creaks open. “Girls’ hair takes a long time. Didn’t Rachel teach you that?”

“How do you know about Rachel?”

“I think Mom said something to Dad a while back.”

Rachel is the girlfriend I’d been seeing since the beginning of my senior year of high school, but she moved to Seattle right after we graduated. Now she’s at the same school where Jessica was last year. I saw her a few times over the summer, but not recently. Now that Jessica mentions it, Rachel does spend a lot of time on her hair. Her last text this morning said she had to go do hair prep for the day.

“There’s not much to eat,” I say. “Some peaches, and a bit of cereal.” I’m eyeing a box of shredded wheat, which must have arrived with my sister. She ate the frosted kind when we were little.

“If you bring me a piece of fruit I won’t yell at you.” She probably doesn’t mean it, but I take what I can get.

“What’s on the list so far?” I pick through the bowl for the best looking piece.

“Water heater. Fan. And the dryer is doing something weird. It wasn’t working last night. Anything to add?”

“No, that’s all I’ve noticed, other than the house being drafty and old.”

“Did Mom just find the most rundown place imaginable as a project to do?”

“I think it was cheap, and has a backyard. She wants to grow another garden, like she used to have. When do you want to give her the list?”

“Oh, I’m giving it to her tonight. I can’t deal with this shit. I have to get a job, so I can actually afford to drive. And I need to be able to shower to do that.”

I find a suitable piece of fruit, and head back down to the bathroom. The door arcs all the way open, and a cloud of steam floats in the air. My sister stands in front of the mirror with a white towel wrapped tightly around her chest, tucked under her arms, and running down just past her waist. Her boobs are trying to escape the top of the towel, and I can’t help but look.

Jessica says, “We need a fan.” She wipes condensation off the mirror with a washcloth, then stands on the tips of her toes, leans in, and presses a dark colored pencil to her face. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to leave the door open next time.”

As I stand in the doorway, a mysterious orange dread invades my nose. I swear I can smell it in my eyes.

“What is that?” I say, choking.

“What is what?”

“The orange thing, oh my god.”

“A body wash. I got it the other day.”

“Body wash?”

“Fucking hell, it’s a soap, Alex.”

“This is the best one I could find.” I set the peach on the counter, pushing a long silver nail file out of the way. Then I leave my sister to herself.

The next few days go much like the first two. My sister and I alternate showers, since there’s no way we can both fit into the hot water budget, and we leave the door open so the mirror doesn’t steam up as much. Jessica gets into the habit of doing her makeup while wearing only a towel. The view seems to be improving each day, and I find myself stopping by to chat more and more. She stands on her toes, so she can get her face as close to the mirror as possible, tightening everything from her heels to her ass to hold the pose. Sometimes her boobs partly fall out the front of her towel, and she either takes her time covering them, or doesn’t bother at all. She dons makeup with a kit of arcane implements I can’t pretend to understand, and makes a face while she stares at herself that’s half focus, half judgment. As much as I love looking at her fall out of the towel, it’s her face and the conversation that keeps my attention. I feel slightly less dirty in telling myself I’m learning how girls do makeup. And getting to know my sister.

On Friday, Jessica stands on her toes, wrapped in a dark purple towel, pressing a brown colored pencil to her face. She leans forward, nearly touching the mirror, and purses her lips to judge some quality I can’t identify. I stand there wondering if that’s how she kisses the guys she dates, and a flash of her forcing her tongue into some stranger’s mouth sears itself into my imagination. I’m immediately jealous of the character I’ve created in my own head. I want to be that guy.

“Oh, before I forget.” My sister pushes past me, and her towel brushes my arm as I lean against the doorway. She quickly returns and slaps an envelope to my chest, then resumes her pose in front of the mirror. “From Dad.”

Inside the envelope sits a check. “He’s cutting hard checks? He does know online banking is a thing, right?”

“He insists on paper checks for some reason. I’m not sure why.”

“Have you had this since you moved in?”

“No, he came down again yesterday.” Jessica slowly works the golden brown pencil over the edge of her lips. “We got lunch.”

“He drove down here in the middle of the day to bring that?”

“Well, Dad brought me one too, but yes. He was looking at another property. Something crazy expensive.”

“I didn’t know he made that much.”

“Guess so. He and Kirsten are celebrating some work thing. New boss, I think. She lives around here somewhere and makes the commute. Seems kind of far to Seattle.”

“And you know her?”

“I know she’s tall and has big hair. Works in human resources. We only ever do small talk.” Jessica pauses. “I don’t really like taking his money, to be honest.”

“I don’t either,” I say. “The job bugs me for the same reason. He’s why I have it.”

“I just cash them for now. I want my own space. No offense. Plus, I really need to buy a car.” Jessica pauses again. “Dad should buy us cars.” She caps the brown pencil, and drops it into a bag on the counter, then watches herself turn her head left, then right, then left again. “Any big plans for the weekend?”

“Seeing Rachel after school.”

“Oh, you have a date tonight?” Jessica leans farther over the sink.

“It’s not really a date.”

“You’re hanging out with a girl you like?” She turns her head and looks at me.

“Yeah.”

“You’ll be alone?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s a date.” My sister resumes work on her makeup. “Fuck, I’m sorry I used all the water. The fan guy comes today at least. We should get some update on that.”

“It’s fine. I might be able to make it home for a shower after class. What about you?”

“I’m hanging out with Jane.”

“Do I know her?”

“Bushy dark hair, about your height. Kind of a stick. Her parents live here and she’s coming down for the weekend.”

“Oh, right.” I’d met Jane only once before. She came around sometime during the previous winter break. She’s up at Rachel’s school in Seattle. “Say ‘hi’ to her, I guess.”

“Will do.” Jessica looks at me in the mirror, then glances down at herself, and adjusts her towel, though it doesn’t cover her any more than it had been. She turns her attention back to her reflection. “Good luck on your date. Tell her if she doesn’t treat you right your sister is going to kick her ass.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 4

Jessica says, “Drink this,” and slams a coffee mug in front of me.

I turn my eyes away from the phone in my hand, and stare at the white mug, but I don’t move to touch it.

“Put that away, and then the shower.” Jessica crosses her arms over the front of her robe, and stands behind me, supervising.

The phone falls several inches to the table, and rattles to a stop. I hold the warm mug under my nose, and the roasted coffee smell pushes a small trace of the weekend from my mind.

It hadn’t been a good couple of days.

I didn’t leave the house, and I don’t want to go anywhere today either, but my sister has other plans. I’d made it as far as the kitchen table with my phone and a bath robe, which I considered an accomplishment.

“Do not text her.” The commandment booms over my shoulder.

Something unintelligible leaves my mouth, and I do my best not to burn my tongue on the coffee. When I’ve drained the cup, I let it clang on the table.

“Up. Shower. Go.”

I stumble down the hall into the bathroom, and reach to shut the door, but immediately remember that’s a no-go until the repairs are done. The broken fan functions even less now, as much of the ceiling had been removed on Friday afternoon, and was replaced with a plastic tarp. The tarp holds the mold and dry rot at bay until more invasive repairs can be performed later in the week.

I twist the stainless faucet handle, and stand on the bathmat awaiting heat. “Why do they call it ‘dry rot’ if it’s from being wet?”

“Good fucking question, Alex.” Jessica looms right behind me in the doorway. “I have no idea.”

I don’t have anything on under the robe, but I also don’t have the energy to care. I untie the belt and slide my arm out, letting the robe swing around and hang off my other wrist. With my naked back to my sister, I shake the robe for her to take. This is all the modesty I can muster. The sleeve pulls off my arm, and I step head first into the warm water.

Rachel decided she preferred some other guy to me. Someone from her new school, though apparently they’d been together since about the first day she moved there earlier in the summer. She mentioned it casually Friday night, as though it were unimportant. We were at the park, walking to a shop for something to drink, and she complained about her shoulder itching. When I asked what was wrong, she said she was wearing an old bra, since she’d forgotten her favorite one at the guy’s house the night before. That led to a short, but intense conversation in a parking lot, and I left to go home shortly after.

A Pop-Tart floats in front of my face. It’s frosted, and looks to be strawberry. I’m not sure how long it’s been there. I take the pastry, and Jessica pulls her hand out of the shower.

“Do I need to dress you, or are you becoming functional?”

“I’m getting there,” I say as I chew.

“Did Mom have to do this for you before I got here? Dad never pays attention to what I do.”

“No, I’m just extra shitty right now. How did you end up with Dad anyway? I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember being dragged in front of that judge who asked us who we loved more?”

“I remember clinging to Mom in a court room, but nobody asked me anything. Then I saw you once like a week later, and then hardly at all after that.”

“Well, they asked me. Maybe because I was slightly older. What kind of fucked up question is that to ask a nine-year-old?”

“You said you loved Dad more?”

“No, I said I wanted to go with him. I meant that day, and maybe for the weekend. That somehow turned into a decade.”

I’d never put that puzzle together in my head. I’d always thought we were split because she wanted to be with Dad more. If nothing else, I’m getting to know my sister better.

“There’s more coffee on the counter. I’m going to get dressed.”

Jessica’s steps recede from the canopy of the shower rush, and I start to feel like a human. The food, coffee, and hot water all conspire to drag me out of the house. I rinse the crumbs off my hands and remember that I should probably wash myself, or my hair, and not just stand under the water. I manage to beat the hot water boss timer.

I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself. A cold drop splashes on my head, and I look up at condensation dripping off the tarp stapled to the ceiling. No wonder there’s mold and rot.

“Mom said the guy is coming tomorrow to look at the ceiling.” I grab the coffee mug my sister left for me.

“Did you talk to her about it? Does she know how long it will take to fix?” Jessica stands outside the bathroom, frowning into the hallway mirror. She tugs her shirt collar left, then right, then left again, like she’s trying to balance it. Her lip curls up on one side.

“She’s not sure. Said we’d know how deep the damage is after tomorrow.” I watch my sister continue to tug at her collar. “You okay?”

“I wanted to wear this today, but now I don’t know.” White pearl buttons line the front of a smooth black shirt. The neck cuts a deep ‘V’ across her cleavage, and her boobs are working hard to pop the buttons off the front. It doesn’t even occur to me not to stare.

“Is it good or bad?” asks Jessica.

“Is what good or bad?”

“The shirt.” She turns to me, and I finally look up at her face.

“I can’t stop staring, so I guess it’s good.”

“If it’s hypnotic to boy eyes, then I’m wearing it.” She releases the collar, and pushes her hand down the front of the shirt, repositioning one of her breasts. When she pulls her hand back out, the bulge of her chest sits more level. “Didn’t Mom tell you it’s rude to stare at girls’ tits? Go get dressed.”

I give a grumbling chuckle, because she’s entirely right. I round the corner into my room, and leave the door open out of laziness. The coffee goes on the dresser, and the towel goes on the floor. I dig for something less fancy than what my sister is wrangling, then glance at the clock on my bedside table.

“Oh, fuck,” I say. “We have to go. Where is my phone?”

“Kitchen table,” says my sister. “Alex.”

“What?”

Jessica leans her head into my doorway, as I’m standing there with nothing on, my hand in the dresser, digging through jeans.

“Do not text her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 5

“What about Friday?” Rachel’s text pushes the conversation up a line.

“Not sure. We’ll see.” I toss my phone to the side, and lay back on my pillow. We’d been going back and forth all night, talking about mostly nothing. Each time the conversation grows stale, she says something alluring to hook me back in, usually accompanied by a photo of some skin. It’s a dirty trick, and it works. I doze in and out, while my phone buzzes several times, but I don’t look.

My daily routine is pretty solid now. I go to class in the morning and work in the afternoon. Evenings I’m usually alone. Everyone I know from high school either went to Seattle in search of something new, or farther away for grander adventures. Checks from my dad pay for school, provided I go to the local university. He also got me my job at his company. The only catch is if I quit, he’ll cut off my school funding. He has them tied together, for some reason. It seems like too good an offer to pass up, so I take the shame of getting a hand out. I suspect he’s made a similar deal with my sister, although she only does school, so it might be a slightly different arrangement. Mom works at the local clinic as a nurse, and her schedule is all over the place. She spends more hours gone than home, leaving early, and getting back late.

The front door slams shut, and I spring off the bed.

A quiet house greets me, and I don my robe and make for the kitchen. Once the coffee is brewing, I pause in the hallway to listen for Jessica. No sounds from her room. She’d been nice to me, and I want to give her the shower, but I don’t want to wake her. I hold my hand in a fist up high for a moment, then bring it down against the wood.

“Yes,” comes from within.

“Shower is yours, if you want it.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a sec.” Jessica pulls open her door, plowing over a something dark spread out on the floor. An oversized T-shirt drapes part way down my sister’s thighs, and she grips a folded pair of jeans against her side. When she starts to move forward, she trips over the same thing that caught on the door. She stumbles, but grabs onto the doorknob and manages to stay on her feet. “Okay, fuck this shirt.” Jessica lets go of the door, and scoops up the garment she’d tripped over. A dark wadded-up blouse with pearl buttons rockets past me and bounces off the wall.

“That one didn’t go over well?”

“No.” Jessica rights herself. “Oh, wait, probably need more than just pants.” She turns to her dresser and pulls out a bra. I step back, and let her by me into the bathroom. She sets the clothes on the counter and turns on the water.

“Do you want me to burn the shirt?” I ask.

“Actually,” Jessica turns her chin over her shoulder, as she stands facing the shower. A smile grows on her lips. She spins her hair into a bun, then pulls off her shirt, and tosses it onto the floor.

She’s not wearing anything.

I run my eyes up her entire pale backside, lingering on the back of her neck. I’m not sure if she’s still asleep, or just doesn’t care. I’d been exposed in a similar way, so maybe it’s just a ‘whatever’ move, and we’re getting more comfortable. In any case, I love what I see. She’s gorgeous, even if she is my sister. Jessica stands on the mat for a moment, then pulls back the curtain, and steps into the water.

Then I’m back in my room, and I decide to put the least possible amount of effort into dressing. Yesterday’s baggy pants become today’s baggy pants. I’d only had them off for a couple hours anyway. I’d tossed them aside in between texts at some point in the middle of the night. A black hoody should do. I’d just washed one, though I’d had some trouble getting the dryer to work. Once dressed, I inhale a pastry and pour two cups of coffee. One cup goes on the counter, the other stays in my hand. My phone is out again, as I lean against the bathroom doorframe.

The water ends with a clunk, and Jessica’s arm pulls a towel off the rack. After a brief rustling, she steps out onto the mat, holding the towel loosely in front of herself.

“That better not be her.” Jessica casually dries her arms, as she holds the towel in front of herself.

“It is.” I try to keep my eyes on my phone.

“What the fuck?” My sister turns her back to me, and drapes her towel over the curtain. She’s completely exposed from behind again, and is shivering. Now I can’t help but look. Being naked is apparently fine to her now, and I stare at the curves above her hips. I want to put my hands on each side of her there. Then cup her breasts, and pull her back into my chest. She lifts her jeans off the counter, and, still facing away, steps into them one leg at a time. She has to pull hard at the waist to get them over her hips. She bounces up and down a couple times before she has them fully on, and her boobs bounce with her. I get a bit of a side view, though I can’t see much. Girls always wear such tight clothes.

“How much do I have to scold you?” Jessica reaches for her bra, and clips it together in front of her waist.

“Some. Not as much as you might think.” I lock my phone, and put it away.

“Give me the summary.” She spins the bra around, and pulls it over her chest, putting her arms through the straps one at a time.

“Rachel feels bad. She wants to hang out this weekend.”

“She should feel bad.” Jessica looks at me. “That’s the worst thing you can do to someone.”

“I guess.”

“It is.” My sister faces the mirror with a casual confidence. She looks both slimmer and curvier wearing jeans and a bra, compared to when she’d been naked a moment before.

“I want to see her too, but at the same time I don’t. She was with some other guy when we got together, but she never told me about him until later. I guess it’s how she is.”

Jessica turns to me. “That doesn’t mean you should accept it.” Then she’s back to the mirror. “Do not go see her.”

“Yeah, that’s probably wise. By the way, that’s your coffee.” I point my cup at hers.

“Ooh. Thank you.” My sister picks up the mug, and holds it to her face.

Her boobs are bursting out the top of the bra and I desperately wanted to touch them. For a moment I forget who Rachel is, and I’m really glad I have on a loose hoody over baggy pants.

“Based on what she’s done to you, she’s moved on. You need to do the same.”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I need to find a shirt to wear today.” Jessica squeezes through the doorway in front of me, and her bare arm rubs my side. She looks me in the eye as she passes, easing up and touching my forearm with her other hand. “And it’s definitely not going to be that one.” She points at the pile against the wall.

“It was that bad?”

“It’s kind of ridiculous, and it’s too small.”

“I thought you looked great.”

Jessica smiles as she disappears around the corner into her bedroom. Offense, modesty, seduction. Hard to say.

More casual nudity follows over the next couple days. I start tossing my robe off to the side like it’s nothing when I get into the shower, but I wrap a towel around myself after I’m done. Jessica shows little concern for her own states of partial dress, but she keeps actual nakedness within the bathroom walls.