Castillo. Day four. Friday.
I arrived in my native town on Monday, for my father's funeral. It was a quiet ceremony the next day, and an even less eventful visit to the notary. When I arrived, I didn't want to be here, but not for the reasons that appear obvious. My discontent had little to do with my father's passing. We weren't close. We had nothing in common (as far as I knew). No, as much as I love my mom and family, I did not want to return because my childhood here, while not bad per se, was not fun either. Even my teenage years left a bitter taste in my mouth. I can't think of any specific experiences other than the constant cloud of doubt that permeated my existence back then.
However, my opinion of Castillo has changed entirely since Monday. I'm even considering moving back, letting go of my apartment in the city, maybe even settling back into my old room at my mom's house.
Apparently, it's all because of an intricate ornate ring I inherited from my father. It's affecting me and others around me, and so far, I can't say that I don't enjoy the ride.
I wake myself up on Friday morning; I stir from bed and stretch, then head down the hall. Because I hear no other sounds in the house on the second floor (I do hear my mom down in the kitchen), I strut out of my room naked and enter the bathroom down the hall. I go about my business, then jump in the shower. My mind wanders to the day's endless possibilities, and I must admit I don't even know where to begin.
The obvious place to start would be with my new librarian friend, Mary Winston. She's the only person that's in on my secret, and I have sworn her to secrecy. Given what I experimented with Pauline Walker, my neighbor, I feel I can trust that Mary not to spill the beans about the ring, or about my father's request to find his estranged daughter Jessie. Of course, if Mary had found anything relevant, I'm fairly certain she would have contacted me, so perhaps she is not the obvious choice after all.
I also have the possibility of seeing Olivia again; I had a wonderful time with her two nights ago at the local park. I'm certain she would be eager to see me, and I must admit that I wouldn't mind another moment with her.
I can't expect any time with Pauline until next Monday; her husband is coming back during the day and their weekend will be booked. I hope Pauline makes the best choice for herself; I think it's leaving her husband since she's not happy, but she worries about the impact on their kids. I guess I can't fault her for caring.
And then, there's always the option of spending time with my sisters, but I'm still wrapping my head around yesterday's morning stunt. As much as I enjoyed it (and I did, I must admit to myself), I feel I should take some distance from them, if only to assess how I want to deal with further intimate encounters with them. Lying naked on Stacey's each, my sisters on each side of me while I was jerking was probably the most intense moment of the week so far. I adored it, but I also must remind myself that it would be easy to take things too far there.
By the time I've processed these thoughts, I'm out of the shower and drying myself. I wrap the towel around my waist, in a looser fashion than yesterday, then head down the hall to my room. As I near my door, the one for my sisters' room opens and I see Heather, the youngest, race past me towards the bathroom, followed closely by Stacey, hot on her heels.
- Don't you dare! Stacey screams.
Heather obviously gets there first, but Stacey manages to wedge herself between the door and the frame, Heather trying to close the door on her.
- Hey! Stacey yelps.
I pause and stare at them; Stacey's in her panties with her night camisole on; I don't see Heather anymore since she's inside the bathroom, but she was in her traditional PJs. I take a moment to stare at the ongoing conflict between them, unsure of its nature. Neither of them is letting go of their issue, whatever it is.
From downstairs, I can hear mom working on our breakfast in the kitchen. When we were young, and this kind of dispute occurred, she would run up and fix it. We're older now so she trusts us to deal with our issues on our own. However, it's obvious to me that my sisters won't make peace, for whatever reason.
I resolutely walk down the hall back towards the bathroom. Not long ago, I might have been self-conscious at being seen like this by them - but that modesty has flung out the window since yesterday, when they saw me naked in their room, and watched me masturbate to completion as they pressed their bikini-clad bodies against my arms.
- What's going on? I ask.
Stacey turns her head to me, her body still trapped between the frame and the door.
- She started it.
- Didn't!
- I don't care, I say in a calm voice. Heather, open this door, please.
Almost instantly, the struggle ceases; Heather pulls the door open and Stacey pushes in, pushing Heather back against the stall in fact.
- Stacey, don't do that, I calmly say.
She pauses as well. That's when I'm reminded of the power of my words; I tried it out to stunning results yesterday at Pauline's. I wonder if that's why their compliance manifests so quickly.
- Stacey, please sit on the bath side.
She grumbles but carries out my request. I have one sister to my right, one to my left. From this angle, and because Heather only buttons once on her top, I can clearly see the line of her cleavage. Stacey's camisole goes higher but she has stronger curves. I indulge in the sight for only a moment, then turn my attention to the problem at hand.
- What's the issue? Stacey first.
- We had an arrangement about using the bathroom. We alternate. And she's not keeping up her end of the bargain.
- Is that true? I ask Heather.
She's clearly at fault and her face shows it. Still, I inquire as to her reasons for breaking the agreement.
- Well, Stacey cheats too, you know.
- I do not!
- How does Stacey cheat? I ask, motioning for Stacey to let Heather finish.
- For instance, she uses all the soap, or shampoo. She doesn't replace the towels, and the floor is all wet after she's done with the shower!
I turn to Stacey and I know it to be true as well; Stacey generally doesn't pick up much after herself.
- Listen, you two are old enough not to pick this kind of fight. Fair is fair. If Stacey should go first, she should go first.
- There! Stacey quips.
- But that's not all. Stacey, when you make a mess, you pick up after yourself.
I think of the mess she cleaned up yesterday and I grin; I don't think they share my recollection because their faces don't change.
- So... is this solved?
- Yes, Stacey says. Sorry Heather. I just got mad.
- I... got mad too. I'm sorry.
- Good.
A light turns on inside my head.
- Now hug it out.
They look at me, then each other, then rise to their feet and hug, arms wrapped around one another; I smile.
- Now kiss! I add with a tone of humor.
They turn to me and snicker, throwing their tongue out. But then, out of the blue, they do lock lips for a moment. My eyebrows twitch at the sight and I feel a slight tension between my legs.
- Everyone's happy, I say. Let me get out of your hair Stacey. You too Heather. Come on.
We both leave the room; I notice I don't hear the click of the bathroom door lock as I walk out; I have to resist the urge to go back and watch Stacey shower. Heather walks with me to my door.
- Thanks for that.
- I did nothing special.
- But you did it. Thanks.
She leans up and kisses me on the cheek, then heads to her room. I sigh, then head into mine and get dressed.
Mom's breakfast is plentiful and delicious; I eat like a man starved for days. Mom smiles at my appetite.
- Always a sign of good health and humor, she states.
I can't disagree: my spirits are high and my body feels amazing. I could stand to be in better shape, obviously, but what I have is enough for my usual needs. When asked about the day's planning, I travel back to my earlier thoughts. I check my phone for any news from Mary but there is none; however, I do scroll over a message from Olivia, telling me that she's off today and would like to meet with me. I ask her where, hinting that we should pick a different venue than the park for variety. I get a 'lol' from her, then a suggestion to meet her at her apartment, and we can go somewhere from there.
Obviously, there's the implication that we won't leave just yet when I get there. I smile. Mom notices.
- What makes you happy?
- This. You. Here.
She comes over and tussles my hair, then leans in and plants a kiss on my head.
- You were such a happy child before... and now, it's like you're that happy again. It's beautiful to see.
- Thank you, mom. Means a lot coming from you.
When my sisters finally join to the table, I cast them a glance. Their dispute now settled, they're behaving as they were yesterday. Their gaze back at me feels like a conspiracy, but I like it. They too inquire about my day, so I honestly tell them I'm meeting up with a friend. The twinkle in their eyes makes me think they know - or suspect - what part of that meeting entails. Not that I care that they think - after yesterday, there are no delusions about my sexuality on their part.
- And when will you be back? Heather asks.
- Can't say. Probably supper, unless this extends.
I see the innuendo is not lost on them. All three of us smile as my mother appears oblivious to what's being talked down. As mom sits down, she suddenly sighs. We look at her and she explains her reaction.
- I really... don't want to go back to work Monday. You know?
I understand; in fact, we all do, though perhaps for different reasons. For me, going back to work will mean going back to the city to find work, and that seems less and less appealing every day I stay here. Heather's reason for leaving is to go back to school, but that's only in late August, more than a month from now. As for Stacey, she will have to head back next week. For someone in her field, landscaping, summer is the busiest time. She only took the week off because of bereavement. I can sense that she's also reluctant to leave, even if she doesn't show it.
- I know, mom. I know.
I can probably extend my stay; I can look for work from here using the internet, and most interviews for graphic designers can be done in part over the phone, especially if all I'm doing are contracts. But I sense my mom doesn't want us to leave - she has her family back and, despite the reasons that brought us here, has found a new purpose in taking care of us, cooking our meals, picking up our clothes and cleaning them. These menial tasks which she performed all her life for us gave her a sense of direction and, for the past two years, she's been drifting, somewhat lost in an uninteresting professional career as a sales lady.
I catch the glare of my sisters' eyes and realize we are sharing the same thoughts. However, none of us have any idea how to deal with this. We have to move on.
Except, I suddenly realize, maybe we don't have to.
Suddenly, I'm tempted to cancel my appointment with Olivia - not that I don't want to see her but because a new purpose drives my mind; however, I realize that not only would it be fun to hang with her, but she might even help me with my predicament, given that I left the town five years ago but she has been living here all that time. For a moment, I'm tempted to share my idea with my sisters, but then decide that for one, if the idea doesn't pan out, it will be less disappointing to everyone, and two, it might make for a great surprise it does work out to my advantage.
I ARRIVE AT OLIVIA'S PLACE rather quickly, walking a brisk pace. I chime at the door and she lets me in; I walk up the flight of stairs to her apartment on the third floor. The door is ajar, so I let myself in.
- Olivia?
- In here, a voice beckons from another room - possibly the bedroom.
Another smile crawls up my lips as I walk there, expecting exactly what I see. My lovely partner is lying on her bed, her back to me - her exposed buttocks to my wandering eyes. She's wearing a white top and nothin gelse. She tilts her head my way.
- I've been waiting for you.
- No shit.
She shakes her ass on the bed.
- Why don't you take everything off? she suggests.
- Should I lock your door first? I muse.
- What's the worst that's gonna happen? she replies. Someone might come in and walk in on us getting nasty.
