Chapter 3 -- The Pearl
Walking up from the lake to the cabin, Sherry held on to my hand until the last possible minute before reaching for the door. I was feeling awkward, ready to step back in to a brother-sister mode as soon as we got in sight of shore, but Sherry didn't seem worried. If anything, it was like she wanted to test fate, to see what would happen if someone spotted us.
Would people think anything if they did, I wondered? I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen a brother and sister holding hands, but I somehow doubted my first thought would be that they'd just spent hours getting each other off. I could imagine one of my buddies from the basketball team saying something, but even that would just be a joke tinged with jealousy. Hell, half of them swore that if
they
were Sherry's brother they'd have been nailing her for years.
Maybe I was just a slow starter.
Sherry tested the door handle, and found the door locked. This was a little weird during daylight hours, but the sun was setting and the last light was coming over the lake and through some trees behind us. Might be that mom had decided on an evening shower, or had just locked the door from habit.
As Sherry bent over to get the ever-so-subtle key under the magnet rock, I gave her ass an open hand squeeze and looked away like I was an innocent bystander to a walk-by groping. She smiled at me, sticking her tongue out and making a face.
The grab on her butt was playful, but I was still having thoughts about how she'd looked laying on the boat bench. The pink bikini was covered with a pair of white gym shorts and a tank top that she'd brought in her bag, but I could still see the outline of the thong through the shorts and it did nothing to hide the perfect round hard shape of her rear. I tried not to think about how I'd rubbed my bare dick up and down that ass crack as I'd dry humped her on the boat, or about how her rock-hard buns had felt against my abs as we'd ground our bodies together.
One way or another, I was getting that ass back in the air sometime soon. Next time I'd be coming with a raincoat.
Losing myself in that fantasy for a second, I had to consciously wipe the smirk off my face as Sherry opened the door. I'd learned long ago that my folks could spot my "cat ate the canary" grin, and didn't want to explain whatever look I had on right now.
As it turned out, I didn't need to worry. The bottles spread across the living room and my mom passed out on the couch made it obvious enough why the door was locked. Apparently in a moment of lucidity my mother had decided she didn't want neighbors walking in unannounced this afternoon.
My mom was lying on the couch in her bathrobe, spread open and exposing her legs and panties. Thankfully, the top was cinched tight, but a large spill on the front told me that the robe was going to have to come off anyway. I couldn't tell if the spill was booze or puke, neither would surprise me. A joint was in the ashtray in front of her, only half smoked. It took me a second to recognize what it was . . . my mom hated cigarettes, and while I'd seen her drink a number of times and she'd talked about smoking dope as a kid, I'd never actually spotted her or my dad with drugs of any kind.
Moving closer, I covered my mom immediately. Then I just needed to sit and rub my eyes for a second.
How long is she gonna keep doing this, and when is Dad getting back to take care of her?
"Sherry, I'll carry mom upstairs. Can you get her cleaned up or in the shower if we can get her awake?"
"I can try. You think she's okay?"
She's a long fucking way from okay
, I thought but what I said was, "Yeah, she'll be fine. Don't worry, we'll just get her cleaned and put to bed and I'll make us some dinner. I'll make something that can be good cold if she can't eat till later."
I hoisted my mom up, carrying her across my arms like a baby. She was a pretty small woman, shorter than Sherry if not quite so slim. Looking at the stairs, I knew it would be a lot easier to carry her fireman-style, but something about that just seemed humiliating. Sherry was already quiet and a little freaked out to see our mom like this, and I knew seeing her slung over my shoulders like a sack would make it just that much worse. Going up stairs this way would be a struggle, but at least it looked gentle and helpful rather than showing Sherry just how helpless our mom was. I'd deal with pain in my legs and back over Sherry's tears any day.
Taking the stairs slow and easy, I made it up in one piece with Sherry just behind me. I'd moved through the doorway of the master bedroom, working hard not to bang mom's head or knees against the furniture or door-frame, when I tripped over a slipper left lying on the floor. I went down hard on one knee, and felt the nerve send a shot up my spine and neck until my eyes teared. My teeth clicked, and I nearly dropped us both flat on the ground, just managing to keep her head up by holding her in to me as I fell.
I gave the pain a second to pass and worked to get my feet under me. Breathing deep, I strained back and pressed, trying to deadlift my mom's limp figure straight up.
Legs fresh, I might have been able to do it, maybe. Lifting 130 pounds of dumbells is one thing; 130 pounds of limp human is something else completely. Having just spent the whole day outside and carrying my mom up a dozen or more stairs, I wasn't even close. I staggered, stumbled, and nearly clocked her head in to the side of the bed frame. Her ass hit the floor with a thump as her head rolled limply to one shoulder.
Sherry moved in to help me. Together, we got her sitting almost stable on the bed between us. Looking at Sherry across my mom's shoulders, I suddenly felt nauseous.
"I really don't want to do this part." I groused. The idea of stripping my mom and cleaning off her puke just made me want to be sick.
"Here, let's lay her down," Sherry said. We put a pillow under her head, and got her laid out diagonal on the mattress in something like a comfortable position. Now at least she looked like she'd made it to the bedroom before blacking out. The smell wasn't any better, and that combined with the
whap-whap-whap
of the ceiling fan and the dim light coming through the windows was still making my throat come up.
Sherry must have seen me turning green, because she reached out and took my hand and led me to the doorway.
"I'll take care of her, Danny. You don't have to do all of this." She looked up at me and I stopped and just stared down into her almond brown eyes. Everything she'd seen and had to deal with, and she was concerned that
I