Best Friend's Sister

Best Friend's Sister 3

Getting Down to Brass Tacks

I found it amazing, startling, almost surreal to be sitting here with my "little sister" wrapped up in my arms. I'd known Wanda since she entered first grade. She was simply part of my life. Within me a candle burned that represented the unique place she held in my life. For years she was just John's little sister, always tagging along, always part of everything he and I did. I assume when I was five I didn't give it a thought. If she disappeared from my life now, it would leave a gaping hole. A little sister in some ways but that was starting to change.

Fairly recently it hit me: out of all the women who had moved in and out of my life, she was always there. The one woman that I'd spent the most time with, the one constant in my life. The question might be whether it would always remain like that or would "fate" reach in and give my life a shake?

Anyone else, I wouldn't have entertained these particular thoughts: Was I good for her or not? Was her life better due to my presence? I already didn't have a good opinion of myself, so these thoughts were just part of the curse I lived with--an overanalytical guy that thought entirely too much. I know my fervent wish was to be a happy-go-lucky kinda guy but I gave up that dream long ago. I not sure I'd recognize "happy" if it showed up in pink tights. If a butterfly landed on my nose, it was more likely that I'd obsess over it for half an hour rather than appreciate it for the miracle it was. Same thing with being happy. I had so little experience with it, I doubt I'd recognize it at all. At this moment I was in the middle of being exposed to something that could lead me to happiness. Would I recognize it for that it was or would it pass me by?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"What's in this campus center of yours? I hope it's like ours--a gift shop, a grill to cook up greasy good, and beer on tap." I said with a yawn.

"Yeah, that's the place. It's pretty nice. They have sandwiches, chips, a grill for burgers, and even better, beer on tap. It's a great place to hang out and get drunk. Plus you're still on campus. If you get someone to stay sober, you can get wasted, then you have someone to point you in the right direction when it's time to go home."

"That sounds like something you've done before. Sounds like some good stories there. I have a

lot

of those. We have a place just like it. Hey, Laura showed up this year. We've gone to the pub a few times and shared some pitchers of beer. Who woulda thunk it?" We stood up so we could stretch it out, after hours of sitting. I held out my hand, she put hers in mine, and we headed off down the sidewalk. "Let's go. My treat."

"I have a meal plan, so that'll take care of the food. Can you get the beer?"

"Sure thing." We made it to the door and went into the building.

"So, you and Laura went drinking together? Mmm. That's sound interesting. Any sparks flying? Any drunken groping in your room? Clothes flying left and right? Windows fogging up. Bite marks all over you? Pass the friend stage, did we?"

"No, Wanda! What a pain. Don't toss your fantasies into my story. We're as far apart as any two friends can be. We had less time together than you and I did. If we did hang out, it was usually at church. Until you said that, I never had a dirty thought about her. Thanks for opening up that door."

"Uh huh. I doubt you'd tell me anyway. . . . Hello? Anybody home?" As she snapped her fingers in front of my face.

I put my hand over her face, which she pushed away. "What a . . ." "Shhhh." I withdrew inside for a little bit, focused on some thought that wanted to be heard. "Do you know . . ." I was pulling in the threads of this 'thought' that had risen up and grabbed my attention. "I just had this thought, maybe because we were talking about Laura. In my whole life, the one woman I've spent the most time with has been you."

"Okay. What's your point?" With that she poked me.

"Not a thing. Not yet. It just came to me. It's a new thought. Give me a few days to overanalyze it." Of course, with my overactive mind, it gave me a brief glimpse of my life without her in it. My stomach did a flip and my eyes opened wide.

"What? You went all pale for a second."

"Nothing." I turned to her and put my hands on her face. I leaned down to kiss her lips gently while looking in her eyes.

"What was that about? I'd like another but that came out of nowhere."

I put my forehead on hers and closed my eyes. "My life is . . so much better for having you in it. I just wanted you to know that, sister of mine."

"Mmm. Sister, huh? That doesn't even come close to answering my question. I'm gonna have to call Debbie and ask her if your kisses make her tremble, too."

"Please don't." I opened my eyes and looked in her face. "I'll try to tell you somehow, sometime. There's no way I could explain it right now." I wrapped her up in my arms and gave her a hug.

"Alright. Whatever it was, it didn't amuse you."

"No, not bit. The price of having an overactive mind. But since I got here, I have a totally new appreciation of having you in my life."

She had a little bit of a frown and a lot of curiosity. "You're right. I could say the same thing. We haven't kicked you out yet, so I guess we'll keep you."

"Thank you for your overwhelming generosity. It wasn't that bad sleeping in the basement, in case you were wondering."

"Man, how ungracious. We left the door unlocked. What more could you ask for?"

"Smartass. You could've left

your

door unlocked." I said with a wink.

"You were horny when you were five. I was trying to saving myself."

"You had to get a deadbolt?" She shook her head, then retreated into my hug with a smile on her face. "I figured if you could get past the deadbolt, I'd reward you." I shook my head. "All this time. If I'd only known."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We roamed through the Campus Center, then down the stairs to the entrance to The Grill as it was called. How original. We pushed through the doors and went in search of beer and greasy food. We grabbed some trays and spent some time looking at the menu on the wall. We slid the trays down the counter and made our first requests for something from the grill.

"Did you ever get to go drinking with your bother?"

"Nope. My parent don't drink, so it was never part of our lives."

"I can understand that. My parents had a glass once in a while but it was rare. Needless to say when my brother and I got old enough, we really overdid it. My first beer was at a lacrosse party and then they let me have all I wanted. I remember my parents waiting on the porch when we got home, watching me weave up the sidewalk. But that's all I can remember."

"You'd think a church camp would be a nice place to work. But on weekends we were some drinking fools, your brother included."

"Really. My brother? I don't believe you."

"Why? Why do think he never drank?"

"He was Daddy's favorite, destined to become a man of the cloth. I can't picture him drinking, let alone getting drunk."

I let out a titter of laughter, finding it funny and disturbing at the same time. "I guess I have no clue what it was like to grow up your house after all. John was going to be a minister and you were going to be . . what?"

"They were steering me toward becoming a teacher. But I dug my heals in when I finally decided which college I wanted to go to. I wanted to major in restaurant management, not teaching. They were okay with that but I could tell they weren't pleased. They also wanted me to go Jefferson College and live at home. So here I am three hours away in the State of Virginia. Thank god."

"I had no idea. My house was . . my house. What can I say? When I walked in your door it was like a breath of rash air. That feeling of pressure just washed away and seeing you and your brother always lifted my spirits. How oblivious I was. I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I treated you and your home like it was vacation every time I was there, when in fact it wasn't. It makes me feel I didn't have your back, when that's what I thought I'd been doing all along. I don't know what I could've done to help but it makes me feel like I was self-centered the whole time."

"Don't do that. I knew you had my back. You were there each and every time I needed you. You were always welcome in our house and each time to visited, you stirred it up. I think there must've been some point where Daddy realized he couldn't suppress your energy, your sense of humor, and how good you felt whenever you came to visit. You were our breath of fresh air. I'm glad you're here now and I feel very lucky to have you in my life. So, if you remember anything, remember that."

"You're a smart cookie, you know that?"

"Yes, I am." She said with a smile. "So, what kind of cookie do you like to nibble on?"

My mouth opened up but no noise came out.

"Oh, look at your face. It's not often you're at a loss for words. Never crossed your mind, did it? Not yet, maybe, mmm?"

Oxygen. Needed oxygen in the brain. And a moment to gather my thoughts. "Wanda." Mmm mm? I let my hand rest on her stomach and ran the backs of my fingers lightly across her belly, left to right. She clamped down on my hand and held it there.

"Once again, you are so wrong. It sounds more like you didn't notice me, cause I do remember keeping an eye on you, whether to watch your back or some other part." I said with a smirk. "I guess I must've been too good at it, if you thought I never noticed you. Cause cross my heart, I did."

"It doesn't matter if I noticed you and you noticed me. I felt you had my back wherever you were in school, that's all I needed to know. It does sound like you spent a little more time checking out my butt than I did yours. Is that right?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, sister of mine."

"So, that's what you're going to say every time we approach a sensitive topic." Jabbing me in the ribs.

"Does it feel good when you do that, cause I can't say it's top of my list for how your fingers touch me." As trapped her fingers, removed them from my ribs, and gave them back to her. As far as your brother drinking, I guess we put alot of effort into pouring beer down his throat, now that I think about it. I hope we didn't turn him into an alcoholic. Still, do you want to hear about it?"

"Really? Sure. Anything that proves he knows how to relax."

"It was late July one summer. Right about the time you guys head down to SC. Since he was about to leave, we gave him a going away party. A tub of ice filled with beer, chips and pretzels and cinnamon poptarts, of course, and four or five guys working on getting stupid drunk."

"I slipped up, though. My girlfriend was heading out with her friends to go shopping or something, so I went down to give her a kiss goodbye. It took five minutes until I got back to the party. Five minutes too long. There was your brother on the floor of the Dining Hall in a puddle of throw up. He couldn't get up and he apologized over and over. 'Davie, I'm so sorry.' "

"My brother was sitting at the table in a stupor but enjoying the whole thing. He probably handed him that last beer, knowing him. I was the least drunk guy there, so it fell on me. I would've gotten him up but he couldn't sit on the floor, let alone a chair. So I nudged him over to the wall and left him propped up there. I had to takes his shoes and his pants off, he was such a mess. I got a bucket of warm water and a washcloth and cleaned him off. All the while he was still apologizing, "Davie, I'm so sorry." "I know, John. Relax, you're fine. Do you know how many times you've done this for me? That's why I'm here." I headed into the kitchen and got a bucket of water and a mop and cleaned up the dining room. Was I grossed out? Nah. I'd been there too many times myself. We had the maintenance truck out back and we poured him into it. Then we took him back to staff house, dragged him up the stairs, and tossed him in his bed. What a night."

"I've never been that drunk. I wish you'd taken some pictures. Those would've been some good blackmail photos."

"How a heartless. Someone took a photo last year that shows me on the floor of the bathroom, passed out with my face on the toilet seat. I'll try to find you a copy and send it to you.

Hugs and kisses from the third stall. Love, David

."

"I look forward to that."

"We never got to go drinking much, did we?"

"I don't think we did." We moved up the serving line to grab our food. "I think Lisa and I showed up once, after we'd been drinking wine coolers all night."

"Oh, yeah. I remember that night. Lisa's a different person when she's been drinking. She made me feel like an appetizer. I thought she was going to hump my leg."

"Oh, yeah. She wanted you even more than I did. She was ready to drag you off."

"Better her than some guy. Last year some guy checked me out. For the first time in my life I felt like someone could see through my clothes. It was the worst feeling I've ever had."

"Now you know how we feel when some guy hits on us and won't take no for an answer. I hate it."

"I'm sure and I know you're right. Guys are never held accountable, are they? I know it's unfair and I'm sorry. You deserve better than that."

"No, there don't seem to be many good guys out there. So if I say you're one of the good guys, just nod your head and agree with me." With that she put a kiss on my cheek. I nodded my head up and down.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We waited for the food still frying and I decided to stay with her until it was ready. "Well, I hope when you're in love, it's different. It's got to be. If someone loves you, shouldn't you be able to see it in their eyes? Like I would know. I recognize anger, irritation, and fury when I see it in some girl's eyes, usually because I put them there. For the last two years I thought I was in love but I guess I was wrong the whole time. Let's not even talk about lust. That's pretty straight forward. If I've learned anything, it's totally different for a guy than it is for girl. And I know what happens when 'horny' kicks in."

"I bet you do. Well, I certainly hope it's like that, if I ever fall in love." She said a little mournfully.

"When." She looked up with a question in her eyes. "WHEN you fall in love."

I gave her a little kiss on the cheek, just like when we kissed under the mistletoe. I'm not sure why. She put her hand on my chest, just for us to . . . keep in contact. New territory. Maybe we'd been kept apart all these years and now in one afternoon we had a chance to show how much we cared. "You're entirely too beautiful. I don't know if you believe me but it's true. It's going to attract alotta guys--good ones and bad ones. Take your time and wait for the right one, no assholes, please, play hard to get, no over-the-top slutty behavior, and make sure he's who he says he is. Check the label. Then call me so I can come pass judgment . . . WHEN you finally fall in love. But I reserve the right to haul off and kick his ass if you're so blinded by love that you don't realize he's a butthead."

"No wonder you're conflicted. You count our kisses and then you talk about my future boyfriends. I'd be conflicted, too. Can't you just stay on one thought?"

"Only one? Is that what it's like for the rest of the world? Only one thought, not two or three or five?"

"It is for me. How many thoughts do you juggle in there?"

"It's like reading four or five books at the same time. One stays in the bedroom, another in the living room, the kitchen, even the bathroom. I don't what I would do if I had only one train of thought in my head. I think the silence would be deafening."

I'm sure we never had a conversation even close to this one. What's that saying? 'Familiarity breeds contempt.' I couldn't be any other way than what I was, which was borderline spastic. She shook her head. "Okay. Thanks, Dad. Thank you for always looking out for me."

"Your welcome. That's what Dads do."

The food was arriving and we were filling up trays to take back to a table.

"To being conflicted? Yeah, that's me. All I know is that tonight or tomorrow I have to head back to school and leave you here. That's going to be toughest part. Leaving you here alone. Odds are you're going to meet some great guy that's good enough for you and you're going to fall head over heels in love. It feels inevitable, likes there's no way to avoid it."

"Well, college hasn't lived up to my expectations so far and falling in love isn't exactly at the top my list of priorities. It sounds like you expect it to happen more than I do. I like a bit of romance and want to meet some guy someday that puts me first, not second, third, or fourth, and so on. It's left a bad taste in my mouth."

"I understand. Having a girlfriend for the last two years didn't leave me free to look for love or a shallow hookup or drunken frat orgies. Sorry. Looks like I don't have a high opinion of finding love at a college level after all. I guess I was actually lucky to be occupied, as opposed to being free to sow my wild oats, as they say."

"That's a good way to look at it. It means I don't have look at you like you lost your halo and worry that you're like every guy I've met. It just makes me appreciate you more." She put her hand back on my chest but I'm not sure it was even a conscious thought. I know I liked it.

I put my fingers up to my temples. "Is it straight?"

"Is what straight?"

"My halo? I don't have a mirror. Is it straight?" I said with a cheeky grin.

I loved her frown. She actually reached up and pinched my nipple, which made me jump. My nipple! And there wasn't anything erotic about it. It hurt. "Ow!" I rubbed it to get the sting out of it. "Do you ever turn that sense of humor off?"

"I try, I swear I try. I'll tone it down and focus on what's important."

"And what's that?"

"You. Just you. And I'll try to use the time wisely until I have to go. I know it'll be hard to get in that car and leave."

"Whenever you leave, I always miss you, here or at home." She put a hand on my arm and leaned up to put a kiss on my cheek, just like at Christmas. "This is the first time we've had this much time together, so let's it enjoy until you have to go. You'll be okay. Then we'll work on our homework over Christmas break, okay?"

"Uhhhh. Do I have to?" With a little whine in my voice, trying to sound like it was a deplorable task but failing miserably. There was no way I could say that without my smile leaking through.

"You miserable guy. You'll survive somehow. I'm sure it won't be that difficult."

"No, Wanda." Looking down into her face. I put a hand on her cheek and let my thumb give her a kiss. "No, I'm sure it won't be difficult at all."

"Practice, practice, practice. That's what they say." I'm sure the sparkle in her eyes matched the one in mine.

"Only . . . 51 days and nine hours."

"Really? How do you know that?"

"Another one of my superpowers. Not that I was counting the days or anything. . . . Plus there's a calendar on that wall back there."

"You just saw the calendar on the wall and knew you might need to know how many days it was until Christmas break?"

"No, Wanda. I saw the calendar and I counted the days. Then I said to myself, 'God, that's gonna take forever.' I wasn't going to bring it up at all until you twisted my arm."

"It must be hard being you. Never a dull moment when you're around, is there?"

"You have no idea."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We reached the end of the counter to wait for the last of the food. I took the heavier tray with me. "I'll go get the beer and find a table. And the napkins and ketchup and stuff." Wanda nodded, patted me on the chest, and let me go. She stayed for the last part of the order and I headed over for the beer. I ordered a pitcher of Budweiser, grabbed a bunch of Solo cups, and went to find a table.