Sister To The Rescue Ch 05

I woke up late. Sun was already angling across my window. I felt sluggish, reluctant to emerge from confusing dreams filled with sensual warmth. But as I did, they merged into equally delicious memories of the secret night time visit to Mandy's room - to her touch and embrace of me.

When I got down to the kitchen, however, I found that out she had already left, called in to an emergency band practice, subbing for another flutist out sick. I felt a stab of disappointment, knowing that I had the day off from the Rec Center, and already had been wondering whether I could borrow the car and take her for a ride somewhere.

Reflexively, I checked my phone, and saw a message from her.

Hey John. Sis here. Just saying sorry I missed you, couldn't bail on helping out Mr Joseph. Soon? M

When I looked up from my phone, I saw that Mom was watching me. She had a big smile on her face, and was wearing a short summer skirt. As in short-short. I guessed it was another recent purchase, maybe through her friend at the book club. I hadn't noticed her legs so much before. I wondered if she had been working out over the winter. It was matched by a lavender tank-top that showed off a plunge of cleavage. Her bare arms had the beginnings of summer color, but the strong tan-line around her collarbone, and the pale skin that dropped down into that cleavage, showed how different this was from her typical choice of top.

"That Mandy?"

I dragged my eyes away. "Um, yeah. Just checking in."

"Nice."

Mom smiled again, and I felt self-conscious about my own clothes. Not that wearing a rumpled t-shirt from the night before was unusual for me, but I had rooted around for my jeans before remembering that I had left them in Mandy's room. Left them when I had sneaked back down the corridor to my own room around dawn. The shorts I was wearing instead were a reminder that I needed to get back in there and retrieve them before Mom found them and asked awkward questions.

Which just raised a broader question of Mom finding missing clothes. Had she really been the first to discover that I had snuck my sister's soiled panties out of the clothes hamper? And if so, why on earth would she have sent Mandy to go searching among the rumpled sheets on my bed for what she might discover?

Mom sat down opposite me, coffee in both hands. She crossed her legs and I looked back up into her face.

"How are you doing John?"

"Um, pretty good." I wondered if she could still perceive the afterglow of intimacy with my sister from the night before, an afterglow that felt to me as if painted across my face.

"Summer break going ok?"

I nodded.

"I heard you have another date with Alison?"

How'd that get out? But that was okay, I didn't mind Mom knowing that. I nodded.

"I think that's great, I really do. I think she's really sweet. But you know, just remember, there's no need to get hooked into the first girl you meet at high school."

This was different. I hadn't heard Mom talk so directly before. I made a noncommittal face.

"I'm just saying...yes, do have experiences. No way to know, otherwise, is there? But just, well, just don't feel that you need to be stuck by them."

"Sure Mom. Thanks."

"Because, well, you know, your father and I, we met in high school, and..."

I could guess where this might be leading. I wasn't unaware of what the marriage was like for Mom. And if I could have done something about it, I sure would have. But just going there in words would likely be painful and I didn't want her feeling bad. I interrupted.

"Mom, I was actually thinking, since I'm not working today, um, would this be a good day to get that back fence fixed?"

Mom sat up a little taller, and eyed me with a soft smile. The fence to our neighbors yard had pulled apart in several places, and despite her attempts to put up temporary barriers, their dog had got through numerous times and made a mess of Mom's flower beds.

"Unless Dad was planning on getting it done, that is," I added.

"What do you think?"

I didn't answer that.

Mom ran a finger up the handle of her coffee cup, and then looked at me again, running her eyes over me slowly.

"I bought all the supplies, John. But I can't do it myself. It's going to need more muscle than I have to pound those posts in."

"Well," I laughed awkwardly. "In the muscles and brains department, I'm gonna claim that one-out-of-two ain't so bad."

Mom stood up from the stool sharply. "John! Don't say that!"

"It's okay Mom. I know I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed. I'm okay with that."

"John!" Her cleavage shook with indignation. "You are doing great at college, aren't you? You're getting good grades!"

"Yeah, but you don't know how hard I'm sweating for them. The other guys, they are going out partying Saturday night. Me...not so much."

Mom walked around the table to stand in front of me as I dropped my gaze. She took my face in her hands and made me look up at her, past her generously scooped tank top, to where her eyes were misty and her full lips trembling. I felt really bad, having no desire to upset her.

"John...you are the most...the most loyal, loving...handsome son. The most handsome son a mother could ever ask for."

I bit my lip and tried to cast my eyes down, but she wouldn't let me.

"And smart. The right kind of smart."

"Yeah Mom. Thanks."

"Unlike your silly mother, who was an A student all through high school and then ditched it all to marry your father. Didn't even graduate."

I couldn't answer, and Mom pulled me close and apologized. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't burden you. It's just...I just want you two, I want my two kids to get off with the right start. That's all I'm saying. And that's not only about studies and college."

"Thanks Mom." I was overwhelmed with the scent of her. Full and feminine and warm. "I...I know I'm not good at saying it..."

"Saying what John?"

"You know, that, um...I love you Mom."

She crushed me against her yielding breasts.

"Oh John. I love you too. So much."

***

After breakfast I headed out to work on the back fence before it got even hotter. Pretty soon I was stripped to the waist and sweating. But that was okay. It felt good to be doing something physical.

Mom stepped outside to say that she was heading out on some errands, and she ran an appreciative look over what I had been working on. I had pulled out not just the obviously broken posts but also the weaker ones that I figured would break in the end. Now I was getting ready to dig deeper holes before pounding the new ones in.

"Wow, John. You do good work! Although, no surprise there."

That felt good too. But after I was sure she had left, I slipped back in the house to take care of the jeans and underpants I had left in Mandy's room overnight. I found them easily - she had stacked them neatly behind her chair, out of sight but not hidden. Thoughtful.

And then, after I'd put them back in my room so no questions would be asked, after that...something was bugging me. I knew I shouldn't, but more and more questions were coming up in my mind about Mom. One place might have some answers. With a final check that the driveway was still empty, I slunk back upstairs, down to the end of the corridor, and pressed open the door to her and Dad's room.

I had been there before, of course, the master suite, but not often. Dad didn't like us in there, and even at an early age had discouraged Mom from comforting us in their bed. Still, it was familiar - more masculine than feminine, frankly, with a big photo of a steam train over one wall. But Mom did have some touches - flowers, some pink throw cushions on the bed. And when I opened the walk-in closet door and guiltily ran a hand through the dresses, blouses and skirts hanging there, her scent flowed out into the room.

What exactly was I looking for? I had no idea.

At the back of the closet, kind of behind Mom's clothes, was a low bookcase. I guessed these were her books, unlike the history and car books in the big case to the side of their bed. I ran my fingers along the spines. One caught my eye. It was Alex Comfort's Joy of Sex. I knew it was a classic, and had been gifted to them soon after their wedding. I had read Aunt Penny's dedication on the inside cover.

Hey lovers, time to start adding a few new tricks to the quiver. Tony, you wanna make sure you keep up with Cyn, don't you? Yours Penny.

Back when I had snuck a look through it, a few years ago now, the book had been in a visible place in their main case. Now it was apparently banished to Mom's stack. I pulled it open again, viscerally remembering that earlier time when, ripe with teenage questions and desires, I had snuck in to try to find the proverbial stack of Dad's playboys. I later discovered they were in the garage. Instead, on that long ago afternoon, I had been mesmerized by the soft-porn drawings in this sex positive manual. Many things had caught my attention in my hurried flick through, but one image in particular had struck right through my groin. Early in the alphabetized list of light kinks to try out in a suburban bedroom was

Bondage

. And while I had never fantasized about that before, the image of a naked and tousled woman, with a come-on expression lilting her face, tied with loose-limbs to all corners of a four-poster bed...It had not so much turned me on, as melted down my mind with desire. The combination of helpless and yet inviting...

I found the page now, once again blood pulsing in my ears, and it was no less compelling. And yes, I had remembered correctly. In my hurry or my excitement on that earlier day, I had accidentally torn the edge of the page. I had felt so guilty. Fortunately neither Mom or Dad must have ever noticed, because neither of them said anything.

I slid the book back again. Suddenly I noticed another book laying on top of the case. It was at an angle, and a note was poking out one corner. I pulled it open and read the note.

Hi Cynthia. This is the book I told you about at the book club. Erica Jong's Fear of Flying. It's a bit dated now but still a classic. I really think you should read it - you might relate with her more than you expect. Love and kisses - Sasha.

So this was Mom's book club friend. My mind pondered all of this as I headed back outside to complete the work on the fence that I had promised.

It was full-on summer heat by now, and after a couple of hours I understood why the fence had been put in so poorly in the first place. The clay soil was all but rock-hard in places, and it was sure tempting, with the sun flaying down on my shoulders and back, to call it good enough once the holes were barely adequate. I gritted my teeth and stuck at it. Getting this right for Mom was going to take more than one afternoon. Ah well. Suddenly my focus was interrupted.

"Hi John."

I knew it was Mandy's voice of course. The playful, lilting, sweet voice of my sister that seemed, at least to my ears, to hover half-way between good-natured tease and heartfelt confession. But as I slowly straightened up from my cramped muscles, I tried in vain to wipe the sweat away from my forehead so that I could actually see her. I pulled off my dark glasses, themselves smeared with perspiration, and was blinded by the overhead sun. And the dazzling picture of the girl who had for so many of years been my youthful playmate.

She had put on one of the sets of skirts and tops we had picked out together at the mall the day before. The bright colors, orange and blue, shone in the summer sun, and the cut beautifully showed off her long legs and narrow chest. Her hair radiated like a halo. Yet brighter still was her welcoming smile. She slid off her own glasses, and despite the glare, it seemed she didn't even squint, her eyes staying dark and oval as she gazed at me.

I felt self-conscious.

"Sorry. Kind of a mess here," I said, aware of my bare torso streaked with sweat and dust from the manual labor.

Mandy's voice was uncharacteristically soft. Almost husky.

"Um, no complaints from this angle."

I unkinked my arms and hands, letting the pick I had been using drop to my side. I let my sister look at me.

"You're beautiful, Bro."

I dropped my head. But I didn't mind. After all, to my eyes in that moment, she was the most shining angel that had ever walked the earth.

Mandy interrupted my thoughts as she came closer, standing close and placing her cool fingers on the heat of my arm. It was hard to hear her words over the electric jolt that flowed through me from that touch.

"Oh John, I'm so glad I caught you. I'm just grabbing an overnight bag. The band director, he's begged me to join them for the musicality retreat. Amanda's still sick and they think it might be Mono. If they don't have a flutist, they won't be able to include half the songs they've been practicing for the performance."

"God, of course. Wow Sis. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks. I...I just wish the timing had been different. The last couple of days...they've been...incredible. I don't want to interrupt them. And I'll be gone for three nights."

Inside I groaned. Three nights without my sister. Suddenly that seemed like a stretch of eternity. But outwardly, I put back on my shades, and tried to sound as encouraging as possible.

"It'll be fine Sis. Nothing's going to change between us. We have plenty of time."

"Nothing's going to change?"

I wasn't sure what she meant. Not exactly disappointed, but somehow poignant. Then she seemed to get hold of herself, to shake off whatever the doubt was. She leaned in and kissed me softly on the cheek - caked in sweat and smeared with soil though it was - and whispered in my ear.

"You're right. And a promise is a promise."

She pulled back and said more confidently. "And anyone, you have your date with Alison. You are going to be too busy to miss me."