Later that night, my father and I managed to find our place back into the household, to our own beds, and somehow able to drift off from our encounter the night before. We had passionately kissed each other good-night before my mother came home and I had sadly showered off my glamor, returning myself to the son I was believed to be.
I awoke to the sound of rain pounding hard on my window and laid there in my bed recounting the night before. Just as I realized my jaw and lips were a bit sore, I heard my mother calling to all that our usual, lazy Saturday breakfast was ready.
I had made my way to the bathroom I shared with my sister, I got myself together, clasped my robe together, brushed my teeth, and took a long look at myself in the mirror... and then at my sister's makeup drawer, having had it as my own only hours before. I held that glance for a few moments before my mother's call beckoned me to make my way out to start the day.
As everyone came round, slowly making their way to the breakfast table, I could tell my sister was grouchy as hell, as usual, though she looked incredible within her white, terrycloth robe, with her amazing, fully formed, teen body that I so envied. Out of the hallway, my father finally came in, looking at everyone with a furrowed glance, but for a slight, hidden smile to me, which set my heart on fire. I gave back my own smile, locked eyes for a brief moment, but we both knew the time wasn't right to take that smile further... that would come later, I somehow knew.
After breakfast, as was usual, everyone seemed to fade off to their own weekend activities. My sister to her her friends and my mother to shop for whatever with her sisters. Both certainly off for hours. My father quietly said he'd not be going in to work as he usually did, that he'd just relax around the house with me. My mother said something about it being good that we'd have some time together, to which both my father and I both took a long look at one another.
