"Can you believe her?" Mom asked rhetorically. She wagged her head disapprovingly, her slight frame bent over a pan of sizzling chicken breasts coated in oil and herbs. Her shoulder length dirty blonde hair jiggled as she shuddered in disgust.
"Sure," I shrugged, leaning with crossed arms against the new marble-topped island. They'd redone the whole kitchen while I was off at college, with bright countertops, trendy shaker-style cabinets, and seafoam green paint everywhere, contained by neat white trim. It felt odd being in my childhood home with such a central room completely changed. A strange mix of familiar and new.
"I could never do it," Mom declared as she salted the chicken.
"You never know," I tried.
"No! Trust me, I know. If your father ever did that to me..." she sighed at the enormity of the imaginary transgression. "Well, you and your sister would be splitting holidays between us."
"You don't know what their marriage was like, in private, you know?"
"I've known Sharon and Bill since we moved here," she frowned. "Twenty-five years."
"Yeah, but-"
"She was always such a sweetheart. And for him to cheat on her after thirty years together? Thirty years! Thirty-one, actually."
"I dunno," I shuffled the stainless steel napkin holder back and forth, avoiding her eyes.
"With a waitress! It's like a bad movie," Mom cried indignantly, her piercing blue eyes accusing the chicken in place of Bill. "And shame on that girl! She knows he's married, she knows Sharon. Can you believe her?"
"I don't know her," I pointed out. "Can't judge her."
"Well I can!" She arranged broccoli around the chicken, simmering at a low heat now.
"You know," I couldn't resist adding, "it's probably not the first time. Just the first time he got caught."
"Justin!" Mom glared at me. "Don't even say that!" She turned in a huff back to her pan. "It doesn't matter anyway. Once is enough. She should have kicked him out. It's so sad she isn't strong enough."
"Maybe," I ventured gently, "there's a different kind of strength in staying with him."
"Well," she gave a flustered sigh as she stirred the broccoli, "I don't know. But! Your sister says you have a girlfriend." She turned to me with sudden brightness in her eyes.
"Yeah," I answered quickly.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"I dunno," I shrugged. "It's not that serious."
"Danielle thought it was serious," she shrugged in return. "Tell me about her!"
"Her name's Julie," I offered meekly. What could I say? That I'd taken her back after she cheated? That I was a 'Sharon?' Clearly that wasn't approved of. How about the fact that I'd cheated on her? That I was a 'Bill?' Except instead of a waitress, I'd cheated with my own sister? A movie so bad, no one would even make it.
"And?" Mom eyed me expectantly while turning off the stove. And what? And she likes to be tied up? Spanked? Whipped? Choked?
"And she's great," I raised my eyebrows with a half smile. The front door deadbolt clicked and she rolled her eyes.
"Hey buddy," my dad swung into the kitchen with his shoulder bag in tow, keys in hand, trademark huge smile shining. Danielle had certainly inherited that grin.
"Hi Dad," I waved.
"Why didn't you tell us you were coming?" He loosened his tie with his big brown eyes trained on me. Danielle had gotten Mom's eye color but Dad's round shape. She could pierce you like Mom, or set you at ease like Dad. A few drops of water glistened on Dad's mop of dark hair.
"Is it raining out?" Mom asked.
"Just started drizzling," he affirmed. "April showers."
"It was supposed to be a secret," I answered his earlier question.
"I think it's so sweet," Mom interjected as she set three plates on the kitchen table. "Surprising your sister on her birthday! Who would have thought?"
"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"It's not like you, that's all. But it's very sweet."
"I dunno," I shuffled to the table and yanked a chair out. "I just wanted to."
"Danielle said she had a great time visiting you," Dad observed as he plopped into his seat.
"Yeah," I agreed, sitting down gingerly and choosing words cautiously. "When I left for college, you know, she was still a kid, mostly. Now she's grown up. We kinda... connected. As adults, you know? Like, friends."
"I love it," Mom beamed, sliding chicken and broccoli onto our plates.
"You still could have told us you were coming," Dad grabbed his knife and fork and attacked the food before Mom could even get the rice on his plate. "I would have paid for the plane ticket."
"I had some points saved up," I lied. "It was cheap." I took a few bites as Mom sat down. "Besides, you would have told her."
"I would not!" Mom protested. "I can keep secrets."
"Like how you kept Sharon's secret?" Dad chuckled.
"Well that was different," Mom huffed.
We ate, and the conversation turned to Danielle's college career. Mom had hoped my sister would pick the slightly more prestigious school she's gotten into, but Dad thought she made the right call to choose the one I was attending. More affordable, plus me there, to show her the ropes.
"You know Danielle has always been a little... insecure," Dad lowered his voice even though she wasn't home. "I'm glad she'll have the benefit of her big brother at college with her."
I nearly choked on my broccoli.
On the plane ride, I had played and replayed how it would go, seeing Danielle again. I'd ring the doorbell and she'd answer. A giant smile on her pretty face. Her eyes sparkling for me. Or Mom would answer the door, and my sister would come running down the stairs when she heard my voice. Blonde hair streaming behind her. She'd be so surprised, so elated, so grateful. I hoped.
The truth was that I hadn't talked to her much in the last two months. The day she got home after her visit with me, I'd texted her, "miss you sis." She'd replied, "miss u too. when i come in august can u help me get my own phone plan?" That was her coded way of reminding me she was still on our parents' cell phone plan.
Technically, they could obtain records of all her texts. I was sure they had no reason to do that, but just in case, we had to be careful. We couldn't leave any written record of our... relationship. Were phone calls secure? Could they, for some ridiculous reason, get recordings of those? We didn't know, so we played it safe. We texted here and there about mundane topics, but hadn't once spoken of anything substantial.
I couldn't help dreaming up an emotional fantasy about her thrilled reaction to my surprise visit. But the truth was, I had no idea how she'd react. Had she come to her senses? Regretted what had happened? Found a boyfriend? Would she be indifferent when I arrived? Upset?
By the time I got to the house, she'd gone out with friends to celebrate her birthday. Mom had expanded her late dinner to include me. No one had known when Danielle would be back other than 'some time tonight.'
So when the front door deadbolt clicked in the middle of dinner, I nearly choked again. My heart leapt in panic and my fork trembled. What had I done? The surprise was a bad idea. I kept my eyes glued to my rice and tried to appear calm. Her footsteps echoed in the hall. I gulped. Around the corner, into the kitchen.
I dared to raise my eyes just as she appeared. The rain must have gotten worse. Wet blonde hair hung heavily down to her chest, glimmering in the glow of the new recessed kitchen lights. Water rolled down the curve of her breasts in her muted green windbreaker. Her black knee length skirt fluttered around her graceful legs, shedding raindrops on the tile floor.
Her body froze. Her plump red lips parted in shock. Her stunning blue eyes went wide, then wet.
"Juicy," her voice caught in her throat. Then it happened. That big, beautiful, glowing, lopsided smile. My heart pounded as a grin overtook my own helpless face. I pushed my chair back, stood up, and steadied myself as my sister flew into my body and flung her arms around me. I hugged her tight and exhaled the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"Happy birthday, Dandy," I whispered against her ear. Her subtle perfume, her coconut-scented conditioner, and the smell of spring rain in her hair washed over me.
"Juicy," she murmured against my neck and squeezed me. We parted reluctantly, just before the embrace appeared too long for siblings.
