Jaylen
“Scoot over.”
“There’s a whole cough over there.”
“I want to sit next to you, though.” I sat down next to her, giving her a light kiss on the cheek before sliding down to lie down. My head on her lap, looking up at her like I’ve done in this position multiple times before.
“You’re so annoying. How did I survive all those years?”
“Because you love me.”
She barely glanced at me while smiling. I know she heard me, but she pretended to be engrossed with the music blaring on the screen. We were back at the villa for less than two hours, waiting for our parents to join us. Ever since we arrived, she’s been quiet and trying to keep her distance from me.
We were fine last night, and all day today we were getting along fine. She was happily exploring the caves. It even got her to agree on snorkeling and fishing, which she seemed to enjoy. So, what happened from then to now?
I reached for her hand, bringing it to my lips. A small shiver betrayed her. She tried pulling her hand back, still staring at the TV. I held it, taking it across my shoulder, as I turned to my side to see what was helping distract her from me.
We watched the musical in silence. She eventually gave up on trying to pull herself away from me. Like a magnet, her free hand went through my hair. Memories of all the time she did that over the years came flooding in.
“Parents should be home soon.”
“Yeah”
“So, you should get off me before they come in here. I got the wrong idea.”
“Highly doubt that. If you were straddling me, I could see where they might have questions. Unfortunately, you’re not and we’ve been seen in more compromised positions, and they didn’t even flinch.”
“We were kids then.”
“We weren’t kids five years ago.”
“Don’t start. I’m hungry. Where are they anyway?”
Our parents announced their entrance soon after. They found us on the couch, in the same position we'd been in for the last thirty minutes. Even though Dee tried to escape once more when they walked into the living room.
“Good to see you two are getting along again. What are you watching?” Mom stated as she pulled pop onto the other cough.
“Dee is on a musical kick tonight.”
“ Has she watched Les Misérables yet?”
“Yup, now we’re on Rent now.”
“Let me guess, Grease is next.” Dad chimed in.
We laughed because we all knew about the order. She watched movies. She had a checklist for everything, from movie to playlist, even in the order she ate. It was very rare for her to change things from her norm.
This over-preciseness of hers is one of the few things pop doesn’t claim she received from him. It’s one of the few things mom used to drop him down a notch. It’s been used to the point where we turned it into a joke.
After a few comments about Dee’s choices of movies, mom told us about their adventures and plans for the remaining days. She looked a lot better and happier than when they left. I can assume they worked out whatever was weighing on them.
Throughout the night, I’d notice them studying us before exchanging glances. At first, I thought it was because of how still and silent Dee was. But eventually, she joined the conversation, even starting some with mom a few times. Then I settled that they were just content that we were all under one roof without any bickering. No one was on edge or distant. If anything, we looked exactly how we used to.
“Tomorrow, I’ve arranged for everyone to go jet skiing. After that, we’ll have lunch. Your dad and I will be leaving. We decided to take a full tour around the island and surrounding locations.”
“When will you be back?”
“We’ll see you both once we go back to the states. In about another week or so.”
Mom said that all the while holding my gaze, smiling. She was up to something. C*cked my eyebrow to the side, silently asking what she was up to. She smiled and winked, leaving me more clueless. Maybe she and pop are enjoying this vacation more than I ever wanted to imagine.
They went to their room soon after, leaving Dee and me where they found us. Dee later escaped to bed. I know I’ve been torturing her. I made it my mission to always keep my hands on her. From playing with her thigh socks to drawing figures on her thigh and stomach. My hands wandered, occasionally touching a spot that had her freeze and tense up. If I’m lucky enough, I receive a gasp that gets covered up like a yawn.
I watched as she hurriedly walked to her room. Her plumb firm a** rhythmically clapping as she walked. The way it looked and moved in those yoga shorts had me at attention long after she closed her door. I could hear her shower running when I walked by. Images of her naked soft skin against mine as my hands roam that luscious a**, those full perky t*ts, playing with her most sensitive spot before taking her came rushing in.
I had to settle for a shower, for the umpteen time using my hands to relieve the buildup of tension she always causes me. The relief came strong and out of control. It still wasn’t enough. Every inch of me wanted her, needed her. Not sure how long I can withstand this.
All the lights were out by the time I finally made my way out of the room. Assuming everyone went to sleep, I went out to the patio. In my failed attempts to think about anything else but her, I failed to notice her curled up in one of the lounge chairs.
“You smoke?”
“Now and then. Usually when I can’t sleep.”
“Not a good habit.”
“Yeah, I know, but an addictive one. Why are you out here hiding in the dark?”
“Not hiding if no one is looking for you.”
“Didn’t answer the why.”
“Can’t sleep.”
I finished my cigarette before approaching her. She silently watched my steps, pulling closer to herself once I sat next to her.
“I’ve never known you to be skittish.”
“I’m not”
“Then why every time I come close do you retract from me?
“I don’t”
I leaned back on the chair, watching her reaction. It was endearing to see how hard she was trying to remain composed. I must give it to her; she’s been doing a good job on not losing her sh*t yet. I find it hard to believe that she hasn’t figured out exactly what I’m doing or trying to do. If she didn’t, why would she quickly reel herself in whenever I get too close or personal.
“Come here”
I pulled her into my chest. I wrapped my hands around her and held her. We didn’t speak, we just laid there listing to the waves pounding against the rocks. Eventually, she fell asleep, her arms wrapped around my torso. Sensing she was fast asleep, I gathered her in my arms, taking her to her room.
After putting her to bed, I couldn’t find it in me to leave, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable when she woke up. I've been pushing enough. Giving her one last kiss on the forehead, I left. Thinking out loud.
“Why can’t you see just how much I F**king love you?”
***
Jet skiing went better than expected. Mom happily allowed Dee to knock her off the skis a few times. It’s been a while since they’ve had a genuine time together. No arguments, no insults, just pure laughter, and a good time.
Once lunch was over, it was time for our parents’ departure. As Pop walked with Dee, talking about whatever, mom pulled me back to my slower pace. I looked at her smiling face and had to wonder again what was going on with her.
“So, tell me. How’s been going between the two of you?”
“We’re getting along.”
“Seems like you both fell back to your old routines.”
“Not all. We’re staying out of trouble.”
She laughed, linking her elbow to mine.
“Maybe trouble is what she needs.”
I looked at her with exasperation. Not once have I ever thought I would hear that from her.
“What have you done to my mother?”
“Same mamma, just open my eyes more.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? I didn’t get to ask. She quickly pulled me into a hug, whispering “Have fun with your little game.”
The whole thing happened so fast that I was questioning if it happened at all. They were long gone before I could process what I had just heard. There’s no way she knew. She couldn’t know. If she did, then why is she this lively?
We settled back in the villa. She was ignoring me again. Locking herself in her room. For the first time, it didn’t bother me. Mom’s words kept replaying in my head. I wanted to believe that she knew and would approve, yet I found it hard to do. There were never any rules or conversations about my relationship with Dee. Any relationship outside of me being her adopted brother was taboo and unspoken.
Yet, even with signs that there could be more, they never said anything. They never sat us down to tell us how inappropriate it was to continue sleeping in each other’s room long after our teenage years. Made no comments about how close we were, how we shared every secret, how Dee was more comfortable telling me when she got her period before she told mom, how they'd seen us rough playing around the house in nothing but our undies.
The signs were there. If I wasn’t busy putting so many hints out there, maybe I would have noticed that she felt the same way too. Ever since we were eight, we have been stuck like glue. I always thought it was one-sided, yet the more I look back on just how close we were I can see that it wasn’t. I should have figured it out before she told me that night.
But back to our parents. If it was that obvious, why wouldn’t they say anything? Why not intervene? Even today, I’ve caught them studying us. Caught them watching me staring at Dee, longing for her. They shared those same looks as last night. How many times before have they shared that same look at my expense? Maybe I’m losing touch with reality because the thought that they knew didn’t make any sense.
I woke up to pots and pans being thrown around. She was always an aggressive cook. After a quick shower, I made my way to the kitchen where I found her a** up and face in the oven. It was a lovely sight. I pulled out the barstool and watched. Luckily, she was too focused on whatever was in that oven then to notice my wandering eyes.
"Smells good, what are you making?"
"Oh, you're up."
"Yeah, hard to stay asleep when someone is throwing pots and pans around.”
“My bad. Thought I’d make dinner.” She replied, it could have been considered a whisper. Soft and low.
I loved it when she used that tone, but hated it when she did so like she was doing now. She was cowering in front of me, and I hated it. Refusing to meet my gaze or say anything more than one or two words. She was retracting again. It annoys me how fast she does that.
“So, what’s for dinner?”
“Nothing special, just lamb chops, yellow rice, steamed vegetables and cheesecake.”
This was the pull. She does or says something to pull me in. Casing point, cooking for me. Ever since she cooked this same meal the first time when we were twelve, it has become my favorite. She knew that. She knew I barely ate sweets outside of whatever cake her or mom made. Cheesecake with caramel swirls is my favorite. Just like I knew she wasn’t going to touch that lamb chop outside of cooking it. The only meat she ever eats is fish and chicken.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, more annoyed than I wished to.
“It’s just been awhile since I did.”
I find that hard to believe. Mom and dad would come back from seeing her and raving about her cooking. About how she recently learned a new recipe. I'd seen her friend's Instagram with pictures of food Dee had cooked for them during their girls' night.
“Doubt that”
“When was the last you ate it? Come, let’s eat.”
Another pull and a push. Was she simply oblivious, too damn stubborn, or just playing with me? For the life of me I couldn’t figure out the answer. We ate dinner talking without actually talking. We didn’t care about the weather, that it was raining and how our parents seemed happy. They usually are. Yet we talked about those things to avoid touching any subject that could lead to us.
“How about two truths and a lie?”
“Really Jay?”
“Yeah, why not. Can do it over a bottle of rum. You go first.”
Now launching on the couch, passing the bottle between us.
“Ugh. I have three tattoos, two piercings, and I dated a boxer.”
“I can’t imagine you doing any of those. You don’t like needles and find fighters to be brutes. But I’d say boxer.” That was what I was hoping.
“I’d say you’re wrong. I have three piercings.”
“Wait what? Explain. Where are they and how and why the boxer.”
“Well, I got stupid drunk one night with Sand and her friends at a boxing match. One shot led to another and I woke up with three dermal piercings, a huge thigh piece. A week later, another boxing match and more liquor, started talking screaming out random fighting techniques to the boxers. Sandra was yelling at one while I yelled at the other. The one I was yelling at won and that was that.”
Damn. A part of me was happy to hear about this wild side of hers, but another was annoyed. She was living her best life, completely forgetting about me.
“Your go.”
“Not before I ask. What happened with the boxer?”
“I wouldn’t give up the goodies.” She absentmindedly laughed.
“Hmm. I went alligator hunting, flew a plane, and had my first kiss with Analise in the sixth grade.”
She caught my eyes. I c*cked an eyebrow urging her response.
“Alligator hunting”
“Nope. My first kiss was with you in the eighth grade during spring break at Uncle Daniel’s beach house.”
I was waiting for the push. It’s coming.
“Hmm. When did you go alligator hunting and why?”
Never fails.
“About two years ago, I went down to Kissimmee with my boys and they had this crazy drunk idea that we should go fish out some gators. Didn’t work out. One of them almost lost a leg.”
“Yikes. Bet you would still do it again.”
“Damn right. Go.”
“I’ve been to China, never been to the Caribbean, and got kissed by Jace doing senior prom.”
“Jace”
“Caribbean. He stole a kiss on my way to the restroom and got socked for it.”
“Is that why he stopped coming around?”
“Yup.”
“That mother*****.”