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From: Jan Vincent <jan123@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Unexplainable Longing - Chapter 6 (ff inc cons)
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Date: Mon,  5 Apr 2004 07:10:06 -0400
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Hi People

Here is chapter 6 of the ongoing saga featuring the McDougall and
the Southerby sisters. This chapter is called Parents Talk, Kids
Listen? This is a little shorter, more thouhtful chapter. The end
of it was a little emotional to me.

As always, you can read chapters 1-5 of this story and other
stories by me at:

http://www.sistersinlove.org

Comments are always welcome: jan123@hotmail.com




Chapter 6

Parents talk, kids listen?




Jane Southerby was in her room feeling mildly bored and lonely.
Neither her sister Kate or her mother Cathy were home; only her
father, Michael Southerby, was in his study, working on a project
he had struggled with for the last couple of weeks. She heard
booming sounds from the den downstairs, so it meant Father was
taking his usual break from work to watch TV. He said he got his
inspiration by watching random images the little box she hated so
much spewed forth. She thought about going downstairs and talk to
him; at least it would be a way out of her boredom. She had
called Nicky, but he wasn't home. She called some of her other
friends, but none of them were in L.A.. Rebecca Levi had flown to
Israel for sightseeing and meet some relatives, whereas Sandra
Barresi, a schoolmate she'd known since fourth grade, was
grounded by her parents. Sandra, against parental "advice," had
kept dating an African American guy she had met at school. Sandra
had joked about living her own version of *Jungle Fever*, a film
they had watched together a couple of times since Sandra had
started seeing Lorenzo Malcolm Slade.

"Look, he's got even a Latin name, Lorenzo," Sandra had said with
a sarcastic smile. "And he's so damned cute."

His cuteness did not move her parents, though. When they learned
that Lorenzo had a skin darker than they had anticipated her
father warned her, "Get rid of him, or I'll teach you some
manners!"

Jane shook her head, closing her eyes, and sighing. She looked at
the wall and her eyes fell upon a poster of Avril Lavigne,
singing, with one arm raised and the other brandishing a cordless
microphone. Her pulse accelerated, her thoughts being swerved to
Sam Neville. Sam still came to her house to study math and the
girl she secretly worshipped had made some progress, but because
Sam hated the subject so much she didn't practice enough on her
own. Basically, the only time she did some serious studying was
under Jane's guidance. There were a few times Jane's eyes had
watched Sam's body more closely and her observant stare had been
caught. Jane would quickly look away, as if the math textbooks
were really what piqued her interest, but still... she wasn't
sure if Sam was unaware of what those looks really meant.

It sucked to be a lesbian teen in the closet, even in a city like
L.A.. People used to think that people in Los Angeles were so
open-minded, but there were families like the Barresi who proved
that was not the case for a quite number of people in their upper
middle class neighborhood. Probably it would be much worse if
they still lived in Connecticut, in that little town where her
father's folks resided. The Southerbys were a respectable family
with British ancestry, who cultivated what was proper and decent.
Jane knew her father had rebelled, but she didn't know the exact
details of that part of her familial history.

Jane's mind returned to L.A.. She was particularly afraid of how
Sam would react if she told her she was gay. The last thing Jane
wanted was to lose Sam as a friend. Sam made her feel alive, like
she was worth something. Sam Neville was the epitome of female
coolness. Not only Sam looked like Avril Lavigne, but also she
had the same don't-fuck-with-me attitude. She was sure there were
many people who hated the singer, like there were many people who
hated Sam... But not being universally liked made them look
sexier to Jane, as if both girls stood their ground and refused
to be swerved aside by people who didn't really know them.

Jane noticed she was becoming slightly irritated with the
subject, her hands balled up into fists as though she took the
whole thing personally. Jane sighed again and got up on her feet,
burying her hands on each back pocket of her close-fitting
Levi's. She looked out of the window of her room and saw an empty
pool, then raised her eyes into the sky, observing the slight
smog hovering upon the city. She sighed again, wishing she could
be with Sam and tell her... about everything. She couldn't,
though. Sam had gone out with her boyfriend, and apparently for
another day of passionate sex. Sam and her boyfriend had sex for
the first time a week before. Jane and Sam were discussing the
side effects of taking the pill when Sam blurted it all out. Jane
listened to her friend as if transfixed, catching her breath for
a long moment before she exhaled, breathing in rapidly.

Without being asked Sam continued, describing her first time with
Nate Philips, the guy she was with. "He was good," she said. "I
didn't expect it. It was... exhilarating. It makes you feel...
whole, you know, like you belong to somebody and someone else
belongs to you."

'I wish I could say the same,' Jane had wanted to say, but she
kept quiet. Somehow she felt that if she said it out loud she was
betraying Kate. Kate had made her feel somewhat like that, but
Jane still felt that something was lacking. She didn't know what
exactly, but the explanation for that strange, evasive feeling
was not far away.

Jane moved away from the window, as she became aware that she was
becoming depressed by the loneliness of her room. She opened the
door and without much conviction she descended the stairs. Her
father was still watching TV, judging by the noise that kept
reverberating from the den and onto the main hall. Jane
hesitated, but finally she half-traipsed in the den, leaning on
the doorjamb, looking absentmindedly at the flashing images on
the TV screen. It took a few minutes before her father realized
she was in the den, watching so halfheartedly what he had chosen
as entertainment or source of inspiration.

"Hello, Cutie. Come here and sit with me."

"Since when I am a 'cutie' to you?" asked Jane, pushing herself
away from the door by a movement of her torso, while her hands
hung from the belt loops of her jeans, the thumbs working as
careless hooks.

"Since always."

"Why are you getting so gooey on me so suddenly?" Jane sat down
on an armchair, just a couple of feet away from Mike Southerby's
couch.

"Gooey? Is that what you kids use these days? Am I getting gooey
with you?"

"Please, Dad, don't make it sound like that's so frigging
extraordinary. You can be so square sometimes."

"Oh, pardon me, young lady, I didn't intend to offend you, even
if you started swearing in front of your father. That's a first."

Jane rolled her eyes and sighed deeply, changing position in her
chair. She made a motion as though she was going to get up, but
she just crossed her legs, one of her hands checking the pony
tail she had made with one of Kate's elastics. Jane looked
sideways to her father and saw that his affable mood had soured
somewhat. She wanted to say something to keep things bearable but
no benign words occurred to her.

"Jane?" Mike said after some minutes of mindless TV watching.

"Yeah?"

"Where's Kate?"

"Dunno. I guess she went out with Len."

"The marine guy?"

"Yeah."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you seeing someone?"

"No."

It was Mike's turn to sigh. Jane noticed her father's irritation
was growing. He became fidgety every time someone got on his
nerves, that much she was able to recognize. "I'm going back to
work," he said. "Fed up with this."

Jane wanted to say something conciliatory but again her mind
failed her. With a hazy feeling of guilt mixed with her
depressive state of mind, she bit her lower lip.

As her father was about to abandon the den, he turned and said
something that made her breathless: "Jane, your mother and I need
to talk to you... when Kate comes home. We've been meaning to
talk to you guys much sooner, but your mother kept postponing
it."

It took a few seconds before Jane could calm down enough to
breathe in and ask, "What about?"

"We'll discuss it later, with your mother and your sister."

"What about?" insisted Jane, raising her voice to some extent.

"Later." He sounded definitive and in no mood for further
arguing.

Jane, who had straighten herself up on the chair, let herself
lean back on it, red alarm hitting her pulsing temples in her
head. 'Damn, I can't believe this, I can't BELIEVE THIS!' she
thought. 'She must've told them. I'll kill her if she did.' But
then she recalled the vehement way her sister had said she was
never going to tell their parents unless they agreed on it, and
usually Kate kept her promises, at least since they had
started... Her train of thought screeched down to a standstill.
No, NO, NO, NOOOOO...

Jane went to the poolside, almost in despair, then realized she
could call her sister. She was sure Kate had taken her mobile
phone with her. She ran upstairs to fetch her own mobile and call
her where her father couldn't overhear their conversation. With
nervous, quick key presses, Jane found Kate's number and hit the
call key. Jane paced her room, waiting for her sister to answer
the phone.

"Come on, come on, Kate. Come on! Pick it up."

Still, the phone didn't seem to take pity on her. The calling
tone kept beeping dutifully, and to Jane's distress her sister
didn't answer her two attempts at reaching her.

"I don't believe this!" she screamed to her phone, as though that
electronic device was the main cause of her anxiety, which left
her almost without breath. "I don't fucking believe this!" she
said, pulling the elastic from her hair with violence and
throwing her cell phone down onto her bed. When she saw she had
pulled some hairs along with the elastic, her hands began to
tremble. Slowly she left herself fall on her knees in her room,
and began to breathe in and out deeply, making an all-out effort
to calm herself down, while her heart throbbed on madly. Again
the words of her biology teacher came to mind, "Lactic acid
accumulates in your lungs and muscles when you exercise. Lactic
acid must be metabolized by your body..." Lactic acid was what
was accumulating in her lungs, she thought, even though she was
not exercising her body, at least not in the way her teacher
meant.

Suddenly, her cell phone rang and as fast as a bullet fired by a
rifle she dove down on her bed and answered the call.

"Kate, thank God, it's you."

"Yeah, it's me. I saw you called me twice. What happened?"

"Can you talk?"

"No, not really. Why?"

"I think Dad knows."

"Knows what?"

"About..."

"About what, Janey?"

"You know..."

There was a period of silence between them. Jane bit her nails as
she waited for her sister's reaction.

"That's not possible," said Kate with a seemingly calm tone of
voice, the background noise decreasing as though her sister was
moving from the place she had answered the phone in the first
place to a more peaceful environment. "Tell me why you think he
knows."



* * *



Sam Neville was bored, bored with her own life and with herself.
She had a great boyfriend, Nate Philips, a handsome, tall,
outgoing guy, who told her how much he loved her, how much of an
amazing girl she was. And to top all that, he was good in bed,
both attentive and passionate, his dexterity explained by a long
trail of past loves: casual and not so casual ones. In summary,
he was everything a girl could wish for. Sometimes she had the
suspicion he was not exactly faithful to her, but a real
commitment had never been discussed with words. Although they had
been seeing each other for almost a year, they had never declared
they had gone steady. On one hand, that was good: she hated
talking about it, as if declaring Nate 'her boyfriend' gave him
the right to say she was his. On the other hand, it was a little
scary, as she was not sure he was really in love with her, and
not saying it out loud made them drift apart for no good reason.

Sam shook her head as she looked at her own image in the mirror
of Nate's bathroom. Many people teased her about her striking
resemblance to Avril Lavigne, and more so now that she dyed her
hair dark blonde.

At first she found that comparison unbearably annoying. She
didn't care for Avril or any of her songs. She actually thought
that Avril was another poser, another marketing stunt by a greedy
recording label. The more people teased her about it the more
irritated she got. She even began to hate Avril and everything
she represented. These negative feelings toward the teenage
singer grew relentlessly until one day she saw Avril playing life
on TV. It was another hot summer day and she was supposedly
studying in her room. She had tried a few times to solve an
equation and she was stuck. Her small TV set was on, as always.
When the VJ announced that an Avril Lavigne's special was next
her first reaction was to change channels. She looked for the
remote but could not find it. She shrugged and tried to
concentrate on the textbook, while her hands weaved thin braids
on her reddish straight hair. Unwittingly her feet and body
started to move to the rhythm of one of Avril's songs. Once she
realized it she made herself stop.

"Damn, what's wrong with me?"

After a couple of songs interspersed with some interview excerpts
with Avril, Sam's attention was caught. She began to think the
unthinkable. Sam *actually* liked that girl, her attitude, and
most of all Avril didn't seem to be that contrived. Avril
actually seemed to have some control over what was happening to
her, although Sam could see that Avril, under that layer of
kick-ass, no-nonsense self-assuredness, was kind of insecure. And
that hidden insecurity made her relate.

Sam's dislike for Avril was replaced by mild interest followed by
growing admiration for the Canadian girl. Since that TV special
any remarks about her resemblance to Avril had been met with
indifference if not concealed enjoyment. And to freak out people
even more she dyed her hair dark blonde. She knew people would
talk, they would call her an Avril Lavigne's wannabe, but she was
past caring. She would shrug it off, vaguely amused by the
hysterical reactions of some of her school buddies - not to
mention her stunned boyfriend's reaction - to her makeover. And
the more attention she got the more she was willing to become a
wannabe, adjusting her wardrobe in accordance. It all felt like
an inside joke that only she was privy to.

When she found out that Jane Southerby was also an Avril's fan
she was half-surprised. Jane was a reasonably popular girl, and
she would have been so much more popular if she weren't this
self-effacing, humble, good kid. It seemed as though Jane didn't
like the attention, whereas Sam - she admitted to herself - was
an attention whore. Sam could not get enough of being the center
stage of the parties; she would always make sure that people,
boys, would notice her. Sometimes she felt she was too obvious,
but then again she wouldn't care.

Lately, however, she had noticed Jane's lingering look on her
body. She had caught that tall, blonde, blue-eyed beauty's stare
but Jane was quick to smile at her in an innocent way. Sam was
flattered by that stealthy looking, and slightly intrigued too.
Was Jane gay? Bisexual? After all Jane was single and didn't have
a boyfriend, not an official one at least. There was this geeky
guy always next to her - Sam couldn't recall his name - but Jane
had denied repeatedly he was her boyfriend.

Sam returned to the living room and plumped herself down on the
couch, her eyes studying where she was - Nate's apartment. She
looked over to him, who was talking to a friend of his, another
guy she couldn't recall the name of. Bored, she started playing
with her cell phone keys. Then the idea of calling Jane began to
mature in her head. She fought it at first, because there was no
real good reason for calling her friend, but her boredom swayed
her at last. Making a bound to stand up she went to the balcony
and called Jane's number. She waited and waited until Jane
answered with a nervous, "Hi, Sam."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm... okay."

"You don't sound like it."

"Yeah, I'm okay... I've had just this... nasty... talk with my
parents, and I am kinda..."

"Nervous?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk?"

"No, I'm okay. I mean, if you want... I mean... talk... of
course."

And they talked about everything and nothing in particular. In
spite of the small talk, Sam began to relax herself, enjoying
Jane's giggles, the high pitch of her voice, the half-spoken
banter, and the dwindling shyness from the other end of the line.
Their intimacy was growing, slowly but steadily. When their
conversation ended, Sam remained seated in the armchair of her
boyfriend's apartment, taking in the maleness of the posters on
the naked walls, the shabby furniture, the grubby shirt that
needed a good washing abandoned on the sofa.

That night, when she made love to her boyfriend she had a sudden
wish for hot chocolate, Jane's favorite drink, even if the
weather was warm and muggy. Sam didn't know why she thought of
that. It seemed incoherent, random, meaningless. When the orgasm
came she shut her eyes, sensing the throbbing penis inside her.

He was a good lover...

Yes, he was... but somehow... that was not enough, not enough at
all.



* * *



Nikki McDougall was in her room, hitting the computer keyboard
deftly. She was chatting with LAGurl87, a girl she had met on a
chat room. Their mutual awkwardness had turned into a sort of
virtual friendship. They had disclosed their ultimate secret, how
hard it was to have a relationship with one's sister, how easy it
was to be loved by one. They had finally crossed the last
frontier of mutual trust: they exchanged each other's pictures,
becoming amazed at each other's good looks; then came the phone
numbers. Again, the same awkwardness crept up when they listened
to their own nervousness spoken out loud. The flow of words
gained intensity when LAGurl87 told Nikki her real name: Kate,
Kate Southerby, calling from L.A., only a few miles away from the
place where they used to live.

Small world. Small world, indeed, Nikki mused as she kept
chatting with LAGurl87.

The chat's topic was about a family meeting that had turned into
a nasty altercation between Kate and her father. He had found out
about Kate's sexual involvement with her older sister Jane. He
only calmed down when Jane screamed at him, telling him how
unfair he was. They were his daughters, the very same daughters
he had always known. Nothing had changed, nothing. So, why would
that be different now that he knew what happened in the privacy
of their rooms? "We're not hurting anyone," she told him. "I want
it, and she wants it too... Dad, please don't make a scene about
this. Please!"

Nikki, enthralled by Kate's story, asked for further details,
trying to remove herself from haunting memories of similar events
she had experienced a couple of years before. And what about
Jane's mother? How did she react? Two questions she typed with
trembling hands.

"My mother... She didn't say much... Jane and I and Dad thought
it weird, but she refused to talk about it. She left the meeting
without making any judgment. She said she needed to think about
it. My mother used to be a social worker. I know she handled a
few incest cases, but... she never talked about it with us."

Nikki bid goodbye to Kate and logged off. She had heard her
parents returning from work in their brand-new metallic gray
Mercedes-Benz, a soft-top $50,000 cabriolet that had replaced
their aging Buick. Like Linda had told her, money was again
flowing in and that showed in the way her parents started
spending it. Somehow she felt Mom was becoming a futile, vain,
disparaging woman once more. Hadn't she learned anything from the
past?

Nikki climbed down the stairs to meet them. Her father kissed her
on the cheek, saying hello to her, while her mother went past her
as she asked about her day.

"Nothing much," Nikki replied.

"Where is Linda?" asked Fred McDougall, letting out a sigh of
tiredness.

"Working."

"And the twins?"

"Probably on the beach with their boyfriends."

"Boyfriends?"

"Yeah, boyfriends."

Nikki turned away and went out to the backyard. The end of the
day was sunny, the lawn was still wet under her feet. The
automatic sprinklers had just finished their job, the small drops
of water reflecting the light as if they were lost jewels
adorning the grass leaves. After a while she felt a presence
behind her. Without turning to see who it was she knew it was her
father.

"Nikki."

"Nicole," she said, facing him.

"What?" Fred looked puzzled, walking toward her in his customary
knee-high khaki shorts.

"Nicole, my name is Nicole, not Nikki."

"Nicole?... Okay... but you will always be my Nikki."

"I can't be your Nikki forever, Dad. I'm 19. I am an adult. You
gotta accept that."

"And why do you still behave like a child?"

"What do you mean?" Nikki frowned her brows, some unease growing
in her attractive face.

"I know what you and your sister were doing the other night when
she screamed and said it was nothing."

"So?" said Nikki, putting her hands on her hips, being as defiant
as her older sister.

"Are you going to go on like that, after all the talking, all the
counseling you got and *I* paid for?"

"Yes, we will."

"WHY?"

In spite of the increasing ill temper of her father she did not
vacillate. "Because I want to. And so does Linda. Why shouldn't
we?"

"Because it's illegal, young lady. You can go to prison for it."

"I am not so sure of that."

"Why not?"

"I have my reasons."

"And those are..."

"Dad, whatever you gonna say is not gonna change my mind. Linda
is the one I want to be with all my life. She's the best. Can't
you see? She is... I can't explain. I feel what I feel and I
don't have words for it. When I am with her I feel safe, Dad. She
knows what I want and I know what she wants. I wish all the
relationships in the world were this magical. I know you can't
understand this... this enormous sense of belonging... I have
dated a couple of guys, Dad, but none of them has ever made me
feel like Linda does. Why is it so difficult to understand? Why?"

Fred sighed, this time deeply, looking away. He reached for his
unlit pipe and sighed again. "Sorry, Nik... Nicole. I can't
understand that. I wish I could, but I can't." Shaking his head
he disappeared from view through the backyard door.

There was a split second during which she thought she was going
to cry, but she was able to control herself. She had a sudden
urge to go see Linda, because she missed her so much at that very
moment. Without thinking about the consequences and the fact that
Linda could get mad at her, she hurried to the garage and fetched
her bike.

Fast as she could she sped down empty streets and lawns. It was
getting dark but the need to be with Linda was overwhelming. She
needed her so much, as if Linda had become an organic necessity
to nourish her body; without it she would wither and die.

When she reached the beach she pedaled even faster. From afar she
spotted Linda serving drinks to some tourists. Her heart began to
beat faster, and doubts about the impromptu visit at Linda's
workplace began to arise. She reduced the speed until her bike
came to a halt. Suddenly a car beeped and an angry man told her
off. What was she doing there in the middle of the street?
"Stupid cunt," he called her. Without facing him she pulled over
and let the angry man pass with his old, rusty Ford Mustang.

"That's it, I'm gonna go back," she said to herself. She looked
at her own hands. They were shaking uncontrollably, even though
the angry driver was gone. But then she saw her sister waving at
her. Linda beckoned her to come over. A sense of relief shot
through her body and she did as she was told.

When Nikki was just 10 feet away Linda said, "What are you doing
here?"

Nikki could see her older sister's preoccupation. She closed her
eyes before she could reply. "Don't get mad at me. I just needed
to see you."

"Mad at you? I am not mad at you. I just want to know why you're
here."

Nikki stopped her bike right in front of her sister, who looked
so amazingly sexy in her working outfit: a bikini hidden under a
filmy bikini wrap. Her long blonde air was combed in a way that
looked casual, which was set off by her golden tan.

Finally Nikki told her about the conversation with their father.
At first Linda remained silent, but then in a serious, worried
voice she asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," replied Nikki, nodding. "It really helps talking to you.
Thanks."

"I know, sweetie. I know."

And to Nikki's surprise she saw some tears on her sister's eyes.

"Linda, are you okay?"

"Yes." Linda nodded, her voice slightly troubled. "It's just been
a rough day. My boss is really a pain, and I have the feeling
we're missing so much because of this stupid job. I wish I was
there to protect you. And I love you so much right now because of
what you said to Dad."

The rush of feelings was so intense that neither of them was able
to resist the impulse of falling into each other's arms.

"Linda, I love you so much," said Nikki, shuddering from time to
time, her ear against Linda's ribcage, listening to her sister's
heartbeat.

"Ssh," Linda shushed, still holding Nikki in her arms. "Don't.
Don't let it overwhelm you."

"What?" Nikki retreated away from her older sister's embrace.
"What do you mean?"

"Don't let this feeling overwhelm you. I see you're getting upset
by it, because it's so intense. I know what I am talking about,
because I sometimes feel the same way. It's so intense that I
lose my breath."

"You do?"

"Yes. Nikki, I gotta go. My boss is already complaining. I don't
want to lose this job."

"Yes, go."

"You be okay?" Linda asked as she stepped back into the bar.

"Sure."

"Promise?"

Nikki only smiled, then sighed, pulling her hair away from her
eyes as she observed her sister taking care of another order from
two good-looking beach jocks. Jealousy made her return to
reality. She finally noticed how dark it had become. She noticed
that her sister had looked at her once more, mouthing an
emphatic, "Go. Go home." And that simple gesture from her sister
made Nikki turn and cycle back to her parents' place. When she
got there she realized the twins were in the backyard accompanied
by their boyfriends.

"Hi, Nikki," Jeannie offered. "Where have you been? Dad was crazy
looking for you."

"I biked to the beach and I'm back. It's not that late."

She noticed the guys' interested gaze upon her but she decided to
ignore them. Somehow she resented their intrusion, as if they
were trespassers of holy ground. It seemed to Nikki it was the
first time the twins had brought their boyfriends home. Her
younger sisters were older and they were following the ways of
the "breeders," a word Linda's gay friends used for straight
couples. She had abhorred the word "breeders" and its slightly
derogatory meaning when she heard it for the first time, but now
she thought it fit them perfectly.

Soon enough she waved them goodbye and returned the bike to the
garage. Dodging her parents she climbed the stairs and went
straight to her room, took a shower, and only when Zoe yelled the
dinner was ready she ventured to go downstairs. When she walked
in the dining room an unpleasant surprise awaited her. Next to
each twin sat the respective beau. Her bad mood grew and her own
ill will against her sisters' boyfriends was both surprising and
confusing. She wanted to scream, "What the hell are they doing
here?" but she knew she couldn't say it out loud, she didn't even
had the right to.

"Nikki," said Jeannie, "I hope you don't mind Carlos sitting in
your place."

"My name is not Nikki. My name is Nicole."

She saw her mother's and her sisters' surprise and her father's
apparent indifference. He had gone through that forceful
statement before, and instead of joining the rest of the family
in their questioning look he helped himself to the salad and the
lamb ribs.

"Since when?" asked Zoe eventually.

"Since now."

"Why?"

"Because I say so."

"You're angry because Carlos is sitting in your place," Jeannie
accused.

"Well, yes, I am. I'd like to be warned beforehand that we've got
visits over dinner."

"Nik... I mean, Nicole. Enough!" Her father looked sternly at
her. "Sit next to your mother and let's eat in peace."

Nikki's anger grew and was about to explode when she thought
better of it. She breathed in deeply to calm herself down. Only
the thought of going back to college one week earlier, as she and
her sister had planned, kept her existence at her parents'
bearable. She counted down the days already. She just couldn't
wait.

After dinner, Nikki made her escape to the backyard, sitting
alone in one of the lawn chairs, watching the clouded sky. She
kept thinking about Linda, and the crave for her sister
increased. She was *sisterholic*, it seemed. And with that
thought she was able to laugh, pressing her palms against each
other. "Or better," she spoke to herself. "I am lindaholic and
perhaps I should join a Lindaholics Anonymous group."

"Hi, honey. Talking to yourself?"

Startled she looked up and saw her mother next to her, smoking.
"Mom."

"May I join you?"

"Of course."

"I see you were laughing at some joke," her mother said, taking a
chair next to hers.

Nikki remained silent without knowing what to say. It was rare
for her mother to express any interest in her. Usually she was
too busy inside to show any affection. It seemed as though the
very real existence of the twins' boyfriends was changing the
dynamics of the house.

"Nikki..." her mother began.

"Nicole," she corrected.

"Nicole then." Her mother took a deep drag in and slowly let the
smoke out through her nostrils. "Your father has just told me..."

"Mom, I don't wanna talk about it. Please!"

"Nicole, please listen me out, because if I don't say it now I
may change my mind later."

There was a moment of silence. Mother and daughter kept that
moment of respite, listening to the sounds of the night and the
passing wind that caressed their faces and made their hair flap
and flutter.

"I'm listening."

Her mother sighed, exhaling the smoke once again, then turned to
her expectant daughter. "I thought you had stopped, but I guess I
was wrong. What pains me the most is to know what is like to love
a sister. As I have told you already..."

"Yes, Mom, I know about Aunt Joan. You told me."

"Yes, but I didn't tell you everything. Even though we could not
handle it, I mean... the incest, and what my father did to
me...and did to her... I know we loved each other very much. And
all this time I've been wondering... if... the circumstance were
different if... I wouldn't love Aunt Joan like you do Linda."

"Mom," Nikki uttered lowly, almost in a whisper. She could see
some tears in her mother's eyes.

"Hear me out, honey, because this will be the last time I talk
about this."

"Go on."

"So, what I mean with all this is... I am not going to fight you
on this. Not anymore. I see it's no use, and you two amaze me
because..." Her mother couldn't continue. Her voice trembled.
Nikki was shocked when her mother started to cry convulsively.

"Mom, please... Mom. Mom!"

"I am okay, honey. I am. I just needed to cry a little." She
accepted her daughter's hand and held it tight as Nikki made an
effort to dry her mother's eyes with the shaking fingers of other
hand.

"We amaze you... How?"

"I envy you. I didn't want to believe it but I envy you. I just
couldn't believe how you faced down your father today. In a
strange way you... All I want to say is... if you want to stay
with Linda I will support you from now on. I'll make sure your
father..."

"Mom, are you sure?"

"Yes, honey... I am."

Nikki experienced am urge to embrace her mother, seek refuge in
her arms, but she stayed put. Both women looked into the
darkness, into the sky and the shrubbery surrounding the lawn.
Silence, instead, became their refuge. Physical contact would be
too overbearing, something they could not trust, at least not
between them.


(to be continued? Let me know if would like that!) 

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