I awake alone in my bed. The dream I had last night was so erotic, I am still feeling the aftershocks of the pleasure I took from the Cat woman. My clothes are carelessly tossed about the room, something I usually try to avoid, and the bed sheets are tangled about my naked body, another thing I try to avoid, especially since my niece Taylor has come to live with me while attending college.
I have dry-mouth and a mild headache, signs of drinking too much, which I did at the bar last night before I ventured home to sleep off my frustration with the Devil woman and her taunting. I don't remember much once I arrived, other than there were a bunch of people here, something which I would never do as I value my privacy and the sanctity of the house.
I roll out of bed and make my way towards the kitchen, wanting, no, needing coffee in order to attempt to resurrect myself from this stupor. The sun is peeking through the window as I am met by the aroma of a pot of fresh brew. My mind is dead set upon getting a cup and I ignore everything but the want for coffee. I stand in the kitchen, sipping the elixir of life and rubbing my face, which itches for some reason, until the world comes into focus. I try to piece together the discrepancy between the Devil and the Cat to no avail. The events of last night are scrambled in my head. I was trying to get lucky with the Devil and then I am with the Cat. I don't remember where I met the Cat woman, but she was definitely a good time.
My stomach is roiling enough I do not want any breakfast. I turn to go to the Living room so I can watch my Sunday morning political talk shows when I see Taylor, my niece, stuffing cups and cans into a garbage bag. There are a couple of full ones near the front door that need to be taken to the trash. The sight brings back the memory of the press of people here when I arrived home from the bar, alone and frustrated. I had agreed Taylor could invite a few friends over, but I had not expected a hundred or more people showing up.
She looks up at me and says, "Hi." I can tell by the way she says it that she is anxious about my response to what happened last night. She is wearing a large, loose tee shirt with yoga pants beneath and cross trainers, her typical weekend fare while she is about the house. She flushes and bites her lower lip before returning to her chosen duty.
"Hi sweetie," I reply, playing out the same conversation we seem to have every weekend. "What's on your agenda today?"
"Homework," she responds and comes to sit next to me on the couch, something she has avoided in the past. She looks so small sitting there looking up at me when she continues, "Thanks for not getting mad about last night. A lot more people showed up than I invited."
"I am glad you are popular," I say softly with a smile.
"It's the sorority," she states. "All the frat boys think it is a green light to invade their parties."
"At least nothing got broken," I say, trying to lower her anxiety. "And the police weren't called."
"True, Uncle Liam," she says, wrapping her diminutive hands around my upper arm and leaning her head against them. She allows me to wrap my arm around her shoulders and cuddles against my side while I watch the morning shows. I rein my temper in at the idiots who are the guests on the shows and the antics going on in Washington, D.C. while enjoying this new found intimacy between us. I do not know what has brought this on, but I like it. It feels good to have family again, something I have not had since I got divorced nearly a decade prior and the ex-wife ran off with someone who lives overseas, taking our children, a girl and two boys, with her. They are nearly the same age as Taylor, although I have not seen them since the divorce.
The scent of her hair distracts me from the shows. I know I should not be thinking of her as a women because she is my niece, but the closeness of living together with this sprite keeps me on my toes, as I have to behave myself around her, something I am not used to doing because of the long period of time I have been on my own. When I start paying more attention to her presence than the politicos, I excuse myself before she notices she has affected me in a manner unbecoming an uncle. I guess the Cat is still on my mind.
"I hope I didn't make a fool of myself last night in front of your friends," I say, trying to change my line of thinking.
"Nope," she says, "nothing I can think of."
"Good," I reply. "Do you need any help cleaning up?"
