The Family Room

I could have died, no doubt some would think I should have died. I straddled the guardrail to Miller's Bridge not for drama, not as a cry for help but because I truly thought that my life was over. I was prepared to jump. No one could have stopped me, Linda's harried pleas had no effect.

Julie was the one who saved me. She was still at home, miles away, but she saved me. Etched in my memory was her lovely face; I thought about her vivid green eyes that only lit up for me and came to a realization. Life as I knew it was indeed over. Nothing would ever be the same, there was no turning back.

But my new life had just begun. Our life had begun. A life with Julie. How could I have even considered destroying anything so perfect?

My hand hurt like hell and the throbbing in my ribs made breathing uncomfortable. I was so drained I leaned on Julie for support, not the first time I'd done that. Physically I was in terrible shape but emotionally I was born again.

She cradled my bandaged hand and reached up on tiptoes to kiss me. The pain melted away. I lost track of how many times she kissed me. Linda and Jerry had retreated to their bait shop long ago. I had spent the better part of half an hour on Miller's Bridge clutching Julie's shivering body while she kissed me over and over.

A car sped across the bridge, it's horn blared as it passed.

Julie was silent for a long time after we climbed in the front seat of my car. She played with a silken strand of her long brown hair and tucked it behind her ear. Sealed off from the cold winds that climbed from the waters her body had finally stilled. "Don't ever do anything like that again," she said, retying the waist of her bathrobe.

"I was so confused Julie. I messed everything up; I messed us up. I thought you would be better off if I were down there." I tapped the window and pointed to the rolling water.

"Don't you ever say that Rick Martin." Julie squeezed the cloth of my t-shirt. Her face was contorted into the most adorable scowl I had ever seen. "What would I do without my big brother?"

I threw my head back against the seat and sighed. "Get married, start a family, live a normal---"

"I don't want a husband unless he's you." Her shrill words forced me to look at her. "I don't want kids unless they're ours." She touched my cheek. "Rick, you are my normal life."

"I can't get rid of you can I?" I asked.

Those green eyes sparkled once more. "Not ever." She closed the gap between our seats and kissed me.

I put the keys in the ignition and started the engine.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Home."

My legs were numb from pressing against the wooden rail all night. A few more nights like that and I would have been in a wheelchair. Whoever invented futons needed to have his ass kicked.

I always assumed there was a secret laboratory where little people with big Napoleon-complexes designed ways to punish the tall. Futons, sub-compact cars and low-hanging chandeliers all must have sprouted from their diabolical minds.

There was only one good thing about spending a night on Lance's cheap little futon and that was my futon-mate.

"Rough night?" Julie asked.

"Not as rough as it could have been." I touched her cheek with my bandaged hand and kissed her cracked, dry lips.

She mumbled something against my lips then kissed me back. Every morning, I thought. It would be like this every morning from now on. Julie was completely mine; there were no walls to keep us apart or parents to conceal our feelings from.

Her lips escaped from mine and she repeated what she had mumbled moments ago. "Promise me again, Rick. Promise we'll stay together." Her unpainted fingernails danced across my ribcage as she spoke. The skin was black and purple with bruises but the pain was gone.

"Always, baby," I said, kissing her again. My lips touched her cheek, then her neck, then her chest. Her body was close to being unclothed beneath the sheets, only her pink panties stood in my way. I stroked her bare tummy then kissed her more firmly, tasting her mouth with my tongue.

She sat up; the sheets crept down her pale body, taking my breath away. She lifted her butt and pulled the pink panties off. I could smell her in the sheets, in the air and on my skin. The sweet, demure odor of a little sister mingled with the exotic, spicy odor of an aroused female.

She jolted at my first touch. I ran my forefinger along her slit. Her moisture increased as did the smell of her arousal. The piquant aroma drifted through my nostrils, enshrouding my brain with lust.

I pressed my finger against her opening, testing. She was not quite wet enough for a comfortable entry but I could remedy that. I leaned over her most private place, letting my chin drift over the brown triangle of feathery pubic hairs. I angled my head and dipped my tongue in her beautiful pussy; the tang of her honeyed juices tasted unbelievable.

She gasped. Her fingers gripped the back of my hair, pulling roughly at the roots. She mewled as I lapped her pink slit, stealing every trickle of juice that I could reach. "You're going to spoil me," she said.

What are big brothers for? I drove my tongue farther inside her delicious pussy, pausing to suck and kiss the tender pink folds and hard little clit. She bucked her hips against my mouth. Moisture inundated my lips, letting me know that her body was more than ready to receive me now.

I flicked her little clit with my tongue, she gasped. "Do it like that Rick. Lick it." Who was I to deny her?

She held my face against her crotch, burying my nose in her curly little bush. She quivered as my tongue lapped up and down the length of her furrow. Her pussy clenched and contracted as an orgasm gripped her, it milked my tongue as if it were a penis.

She bounced on the futon pad, the bucking of her hips forced my neck backwards, bent at a painful angle. I grabbed her butt and held her still against the mattress pad. Whiplash caused by cunnilingus would have looked pretty silly on my medical records.

She settled down and laid back. Her face was scarlet, her pussy was drenched. She looked down at me, her breathing slowed to normal.

"Are you alright?" I pulled away from her sodden pussy and kissed the inside of her bent knee. She closed her eyes and nodded.

I pressed my pinky finger against her vagina, it slipped in to the second knuckle with little effort. She was more than ready. My penis replaced the finger, nudging it's head between her slick folds.

This would be special. Our first time away from home. We were almost on our own. The path we started down that morning in June on the family room floor had led us here, to Lance's tiny apartment and an even tinier futon.

Not exactly the life I had planned for myself but that didn't mean I regretted it. I leaned down to kiss her and reminded her how much I loved her. I moved inside her, driving my shaft in to the hilt. I went slow, only speeding at her request.

A life with Julie. Those words echoed in my head as her slick walls milked my penis. We rocked together in perfect rhythm, like perfect lovers.

I rolled us over so she could be on top. Her thighs strained as she raised and lowered herself on my penis. I laid back and allowed my fingers to appreciate her soft butt as it bounced in my lap.

Her jaw went slack as she came, riding out her orgasm on my hips. That was enough to light my fuse. A tingling, like an electric current, started deep within my body, it passed through my balls and intensified as it surged through the length of my penis. The head of my dick exploded, a geyser of cum sprayed her insides. I wondered, as I did every time my ejaculate coursed into her body, just how far the path would take us.

"Rick, I love you so much." She hunched over me and lavished my face with little kisses. I stroked her lower back, feeling my penis soften within her.

"Good morning Martins, I... Holy shit!" Lance yelled as he stepped out of his bedroom.

I pulled Julie's body to mine and threw the sheet over us.

"I am so sorry guys." Lance covered his eyes as we dressed. "I guess I have to get used to having company."

Julie wriggled into her panties. I grabbed my bag of clothes and pulled on a pair of jeans. The button was troublesome because the wrappings were coming loose on my right hand. All of the 'activity' with Julie had loosened the tape.

"Baby, let me see your hand." Julie had thrown one of my t-shirts over her petite frame. She unwrapped the gauze, exposing my wound. The cut still looked pretty nasty, like someone had played connect the jagged red dots-- but it was healing.

"Maybe you could kiss it and make it better," I suggested. She didn't like that idea.

There was a time when I envied Lance and the independence his tiny apartment afforded. That was before I ever had to call the cramped rat-hole my home.

I missed my real home, I missed my real bed. I surveyed the wound on my right hand and realized that I even missed my parents.

I dipped my spoon in a heaping bowl of cereal. There wasn't any milk, at least not any that I trusted, so I ate it dry. Lance grabbed a box of cereal out of the cupboard and shook it. There was only the sparsest of rattles. "Hey man, thanks for eating all of the Cocoa Puffs. You could at least throw the box away."

"There's cereal in it," I said. Julie giggled as she stood by the toaster.

"There isn't enough cereal in that box to fill a shot glass, unless you expect me to eat the cereal-flavored powder at the bottom." Lance crumpled the box and stuffed it in the trash. He glimpsed at Julie, gazing a bit too long at the shapely legs that extended from beneath the shirt.

I cleared my throat.

Lance looked at me, embarrassed. "How did your first night treat you?" he asked.

"Excellent," I said. "You can't beat a futon. Although I would certainly like too."

"Alright, I get it, you're tall." He snickered. "Looks like Julie found a way to make you comfortable."

She sat beside me and munched on a piece of dry toast. "Why don't you sleep on the futon and let us have the bed. It would be a shame if that queen-size mattress of yours never saw any action."

"Ha ha, short-stuff. Ask your little friend Dina if my bed has ever seen any action."

My sister sprang from her seat and threw the uneaten toast away. She was in the bathroom before I could ask what was wrong.

"What's the matter with short-stuff?"

"Dina won't talk to her anymore. Not since..."

"Oh, sorry." Lance opened the door to the ancient refrigerator and pulled out a plastic carton of milk. He squinted behind his glasses and read the expiration date. "August twelfth. Do you think it's still good?"

"Today's the thirtieth."

He unscrewed the cap and a cheesy-sour odor enveloped the kitchenette. "Does Julie like yogurt?"

"Throw that crap away." I pulled the neck of my shirt over my nose while Lance poured the clotted contents down the sink drain.

"I talked to the regional director the other day and he gave me permission to hire an assistant manager. "It's full-time. Five hours a weekday, fifteen on weekends. I was thinking about Lucas but you know what a screw-up that kid is."

"Yeah, you need someone more trustworthy than Lucas." I took a spoonful of cereal.

"Exactly. I need someone more mature, someone I can trust."

"You need someone who's desperate and won't gripe about the lousy pay."

"Someone who will gladly work nights, showing up with a big smile on his face."

"I might be desperate but it will be a cold day in Hell before I smile at the Video Hut." I frowned to express my point.

"Your hired, providing you can start at five o'clock tonight."

I nodded. I hated the thought of working so many hours but Julie and I needed the money.

"Would you like to bring Julie to work with you tonight?" Lance asked.

"She doesn't need to be babysat, she's nineteen years old."

"I wouldn't ask if it weren't important. You really caught me off guard showing up on the doorstep last night. It's not that I don't want you here, I do, but I have plans that can't be broken."

"Plans involving a certain blonde. I presume."

Lance grinned slyly. "You presume correct." He flushed the sink with steaming hot water, the stink of the milk dissipated. He picked his blue vest off of the counter and slipped it on.

"I still don't think it's fair." I crunched a spoonful of cereal. "Why do I have to work the night shift while you get to work days?"

"Because I'm the manager and you're the assistant manager. There's a whole pecking order we have to follow. You don't have such a bad job, sure the hours stink and the pay is lousy but you finally have some responsibility. I know how much you love responsibility."

I frowned as he smacked my shoulder. "I'll even let you hire some help. Maybe you know someone who could use the work, someone you could trust. A young lady perhaps."

That brightened my mood. "I don't know," I said. "I'll have to see how she feels about Vin Diesel movies, first."

"Julie will do fine as long as the two of you stay away from the back room." Lance glanced at his watch. "Remember Rick, five." Lance turned the deadbolt on the apartment door.

"Pick up some more milk if you go out," he said halfway through the door.

A high-pitched scream emanated from the bathroom.

"Oh, pick up some bug spray too. There's a bit of a silverfish problem in the bathroom. I've been trying to kill those little bastards forever." He flashed five fingers at me then disappeared out the door.

I knocked on the bathroom door to see if Julie was okay. She mumbled something about humongous silverfish then flushed the toilet.

She looked a little pale when she emerged from behind the warped oak door. Her tiny bare feet took deliberate steps as she wobbled back to the kitchen. She poured a small glass of water and drank it down.

"What's the matter baby?" I asked. She pored a second glass and hunched over the sink. "Tummy problems?"

She finished her water and set the glass in the sink. "I keep thinking about Daddy laying on the floor. I hurt him, Rick; I hurt him bad."

Julie winced and grabbed her stomach.

Guilt. I had become well acquainted with that particular emotion over the summer. I held her close as she wept, I knew from experience that the guilt and the pain wouldn't go away on their own.

"I want to go home." She shuddered from a sob. I think she felt the muscles in my arms tense around her body. "Not to stay." She quelled my fears. "I left the sedan on Miller's Bridge. I have to take it back."

I didn't think I would ever have the courage to go back to my parents house after last night. Julie was asking me to go back the very next day.

I stroked her back through my baggy t-shirt. She couldn't wear my shirts forever, eventually she would need clothes. I didn't have enough money to supply her with much of a wardrobe. What little I made was earmarked for a lease on a new apartment. At home we both had closets and dresser drawers full of clothes.

We also had parents; parents who we had devastated less than twelve hours ago.

I was not naïve enough to think that my parents would be working that day. One, if not both, would remain at home in case their children were bold enough to return. I swallowed hard; it was lunacy to even consider going back but it only took one look at Julie's heartbroken face to make up my mind.

***

She could sense her brother's jitters as he followed her down the street. He was all over the road, swerving into the curb at least once. He was terrified and she didn't blame him but they couldn't leave their parents car to rust on Miller's Bridge.

They were taking an awful chance. Her father may very well have made good on his threat to call the police. She imagined pulling into a driveway swarming with cops. Auto-theft, assault, incest; she might never see the light of day again.

She dismissed the thought right away, Mom would never allow that. Last night, after Rick had been thrown out, it had been Mom who calmed her father's temper. It had been Mom who held Julie tight and promised that everything would be alright. She couldn't have meant it but it was nice to hear.

Julie sighed relief. The cul-de-sac was empty, the driveway was empty. There were no flashing lights, no sirens, no S.W.A.T. team. She shut off the engine and thought all of those things might not seem so bad compared to her father's anger.

Rick circled the cul-de-sac. He parked the car so it faced the open street. He appeared to be preparing to make a fast getaway if the need arose. She hoped it didn't.

His discomfort had been palpable ever since she suggested they return home. She could almost hear the sweat as it dripped from his pores as he joined her on the front porch.

It was a hot, dry, August morning. Despite the heat and stagnant air she felt a chill the moment she pressed her finger to the doorbell.

Just yesterday she and Rick would have walked through the unlocked side door into the kitchen. Today they had to ring and wait at the front door like a pair of strangers. She heard fingers turning locks and tried to make herself as presentable as possible, which wasn't easy with no makeup, no hairbrush and the fact she was only clad in one of her brother's shirt.

She and Rick exhaled in unison when their mother, not their father, opened the door.

Julie hadn't expected a teary, loving reunion and her mother didn't disappoint. Beth Martin thanked them for bringing back the sedan. A few cold words of appreciation appeared to be the limit of her cordiality. Julie didn't blame her, it was still too soon.

"Julie needs some things," Rick said, before their mother could close the door on them. "Is it alright if we take her clothes?"

Beth Martin pulled back from the door and glanced towards the family room. Whatever she saw must not have concerned her, she turned back to her children and nodded.

Julie stared at her bedroom and sighed. Nineteen years worth of gifts, family heirlooms and memories. Now they were just things, useless junk that filled up a room no longer hers. She wished she could take more of her belongings: books, music, and knickknacks but there wasn't enough room at Lance's apartment.

Rick had already carried down two lawn and leaf bags full of her clothes. Her closet was nearly empty and her drawers had been stripped bare. Rick held open a sack as she tossed the last of her panties inside. There was one last item, a black swimsuit. She had no idea when she would have the occasion to wear her swimsuit but she took it.

"Another full load." He pulled the drawstring and slung the crinkling sack over his shoulder. He tousled her already disheveled hair and carried the sack out to the car.

She pulled a forest green Rubbermaid container from under her bed. The lid came off with a clack. Sweaters, sweatshirts, flannel pajamas, she would need these things in the fall. She unfolded another trash bag and shook it open. She stuffed her warm clothes in pell-mell, it didn't matter if they wrinkled.

There was a fluffy red sweater at the bottom of the container. White snowflakes covered the chest and shoulders; it had been a gift from her Grandma June last Christmas. She never wore it, not even once, the sweater was absolutely hideous.

Poor Grandma June, she had been so sick. Everyone knew that it would be her last Christmas with the family. A sob caught in Julie's throat. She realized that it had been her own last Christmas with the family. Tears burned her eyes. She wondered if she had made the right decision. Each time Rick left her to haul a load of clothes to the car she wondered if any man was worth losing a home and family. She would wonder, then he would return and look at her with compassionate blue eyes, giving her the answer.