Bac Home for the Holidays

From the author: This is a sequel to the Double Trouble story. It is not a requirement to be familiar with that story in order to simply enjoy this one for what it is. However, this may shed more light on some of the other character's motivations.

The incest/taboo categorization for Part I has to do with a brother/sister relationship. If this is offensive to you, please do not read it.

Back Home for the Holidays

A Double Trouble Adventure

Part I: Louisiana

I gripped John's hand tightly as the pilot intentionally stalled the great 747 five feet off the runway. The plane dropped the short distance, slamming its landing gear hard against the tarmac. The pilot immediately cranked the engines to full reverse and engaged the brakes, filling the cabin with an awful high-pitched whine and pitching us forward in our seats. Once the plane was slowed some, he turned hard onto the taxiway.

The pilot had been trying to shorten the landing to get to the gate faster. Any landing you could walk away from was a good one, but I was not happy with the unnecessary roughness, though not for just general discomfort. It was that time of the month and I was aching all over. Every little bump hurt.

"Robin, are you okay?" John asked me. He was so sweet; always concerned about me.

"Just fucking great," I said irritated. I am a redhead, with a redhead's temper. I try to keep it under control as much as possible. It's harder during my period.

I relaxed my grip on his hand. His hands were larger than mine. They were strong but with soft skin. He worked in an office all day. In fact, John was in much better shape than he should have been for his lifestyle. He ate whatever he wanted to, didn't exercise at all, and barely got any sun. His was slim, strong, and was usually tanned. The tan was from just a little exposure to the sun. The rest I had to chalk up to good genes.

I looked out the little round window at Houston International Airport. It was damp everywhere even though the sun was out. I had never been in the south before. I was reared in Boston and lived in Denver for the last several years. My mother had recently moved to Florida and we planned to visit her the following week but for the moment our destination was Louisiana and John's parents.

It took me a moment to realize that John had tensed up a bit and wasn't saying anything. I didn't realize I had snapped at him until I replayed it in my head. I said, "Sorry, babe." Then I whispered, "You know how I get around this time of the month and this fucking pilot is not helping."

He smiled at me, reassuringly. He had a great smile; perfect teeth and sparkling blue eyes. They went perfectly with his strong jaw and short black hair. I was so glad I had found him. Even though he found out that I had tested him, like all the others, to be sure he fit in with my swinging lifestyle, he forgave me. More than that, he gave me his trust again. I hadn't expected that. When I had first decided to start testing guys I hadn't expected whichever one passed to actually find out he had been tested and if he did to ever speak to me again. When John had found out, I was sure I had lost him forever. He really surprised me. Of course, I hadn't shirked on the apologies.

The plane pulled up to the gate and we got off with everyone else. We made our way down to get our luggage and then out to the loading and unloading area. The heat and humidity were unbelievable. It was mid-December and it had been snowing when we had left Denver. I had not expected it to be in the high sixties with one-hundred percent humidity. I hadn't cheeked the weather. The heat and humidity, combined with an additional mile of atmosphere, made it such that I could barely breathe. Denver is a mile above sea level and Houston is at sea level. My chest felt like there was an anvil pressing down on it.

I had taken off my jacket on the plane but I still wore a warm flannel long-sleeved shirt. For a moment I considered walking around in my sports bra but thought better of it as John pointed out his parents. I was still trying to catch my breath when they approached.

John and I had considered renting a car but it was so expensive and we were a little tight on money. We could barely afford two plane rides, one to Houston and then later to Miami, without cutting into our meager savings. Two rental cars, one in Louisiana and one in Florida, would definitely have put a dent in our finances. We couldn't justify the expense if we had an alternative and John had told me how insistent his parents had been on the phone that we let them pick us up. They made it an easy decision.

John's parents were both in their fifties and they looked a little tired from the drive. But, otherwise, they looked just like the photos that he had shown me on his computer.

John bent down and hugged his mom. She was my height, that is to say, short, and she was dressed like she had just come back from church. It was a Saturday afternoon so I knew that couldn't be the case. They had driven three hours to pick us up at the airport in their best clothes. I felt honored that they had done that just to meet me.

They each wore a coat, the sight of which made me start to perspire. How could they think this was cold when all I could think about was the unseasonable heat? I guess I had to chalk that up to acclimatization but I didn't see how I was going to be able to adjust in just a week. I inwardly groaned when I realized that Florida would probably be even warmer.

"Johnny, you look great," his mom told him. "Oh, and this must be Robin," she said, looking me up and down.

I was dressed in tight jeans, the only kind I bought, a flannel shirt that was making me perspire, and my cowgirl boots. I only wear boots in winter but I hadn't known it was still fucking summer in Houston. I didn't think John's mother would object to my attire but I had a closet full of stuff that would have probably made her faint dead away. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker," I said.

I was going to leave it at that or shake her hand but she would have none of it as she came toward me and hugged me. I was unprepared for that but I hugged her back. I wanted so much to make a good impression on her. Though she was my height she weighted at least half again more than me.

After hugging me for a bit longer than I thought necessary, she pulled back and looked at me. "Johnny tells me your mother's maiden name is Kirkpatrick?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.

"That's Irish isn't it?" she asked.

I was used to this. There were Irish stereotypes and I braced myself for whatever insensitive thing she might say to me. I was already telling myself to let it go before I nodded.

"So, you're Catholic?" she prodded.

John had told me how religious they were. He told me they were Catholic and being that I was raised Catholic, I would fit right in. Even though John and I didn't go to church we still considered ourselves Catholic. I knew that we'd be kicked out of the church if they knew of our lifestyle but what they didn't know couldn't hurt us. I nodded, grateful that she hadn't asked anything more uncomfortable.

"Good," she said with a smile.

John's dad was standing next to the car as Mrs. Parker led us to it. He was a bit taller than me and weighed more than twice what I did. His face and hands were deeply tanned from working out in the sun. John and I dragged our luggage behind us, the little wheels crackling against the concrete as Mister Parker said, "Ya'll get in! I want to get back before the sun sets."

I could tell that John was irritated at his father for not even saying 'hello' as we loaded our luggage into the trunk of the big car, but I didn't say anything. Then John led me to the driver's side where his dad still stood. He said, "Dad, this is Robin, my girlfriend."

He looked me up and down, just as his wife had, his eyes a deep blue, similar to John's. Then he said, "You're a redhead," as if it were a crime. "People make fun of your freckles a lot?"

Now, I was young, 24, but I had become very good at reading people. They surprised me sometimes but not often. I would have been insulted by Mister Parker's comment if I hadn't realized that he was testing me. I felt like crap from the period, the plane ride, and the weather, but I was determined to get on Mister Parker's good side. I could read him like an open book. Before John could step in, I said, "Not really. Besides the hair and the freckles, I also have the temper of a redhead. So, most people know better than to make fun of me."

He chuckled as he considered that for a second. "I bet they do," he said with a smirk. "Ya'll ready?"

I loved the 'ya'll'. It was similar to the way the cowboys spoke in Colorado. I had fucked quite a few cowboys since moving to Denver. I nodded.

The Oldsmobile was huge and in mint condition. The bench seats seemed to be at least 10 feet wide and with us buckled up there was plenty of room in between. I didn't worry about it. I would have normally preferred to sit closer to John but I was feeling bad from the rough period and I didn't really want to be touched anyway. Thankfully, my period was nearly over.

The ride took three hours and I slept through most of it. When I awoke, there were forests of trees with gray moss hanging from the high branches lining both sides of the Interstate. They were tall and very green despite the season. It was beautiful. In Denver most of the trees had lost their leaves for winter leaving them gray stick figures. It was pretty ugly if there wasn't a blanket of snow on the ground. It was tropical in Louisiana and I liked it.

John's parents drove us to a town just short of Lake Charles, called Sulphur. Here they took an exit and headed south. This was rural, the small amount of civilization near the Interstate giving way to fields and trees interspersed with an occasional trailer or ten.

After only a couple minutes I saw a sign that told me we were in a community called Carlyss. I recognized the name because John had mentioned that this is where he had grown up. I had gone to school with a girl named Carlyss so I had found it funny.

Mister Parker took a right down a street, drove a couple blocks, and then left again. He pulled up in front of a small house. I was starting to wonder what in the hell I had gotten myself into when Mrs. Parker announced, "Well, we're home."

The house looked nice from the outside, though it was painted a strange peach color. It was constructed of some type of brick that had been painted that color. It looked pretty big; ranch-style. The house sat on top of a very small hill, making it higher than the rest of the yard. Around the eaves of the house I spotted many strands of Christmas lights.

The rest of the houses in the neighborhood didn't look that good. All were covered in painted wood and most of the paint was chipping from age. There were a number of broken down cars parked in some yards and other yards were filled with kids' toys. Everyone had a big yard, compared to Denver, and houses were at least twenty yards apart, if not more. It was very different than Boston, Denver, or any of the suburbs of Denver, just in shear amount of land given to each house.

As I got out, I found myself wondering how Mister Parker managed to keep his car in such good condition given that he didn't have a garage to park it in but instead just had a small carport. The carport was simply metal poles cemented into the ground holding up a thin tin roof. At least this kept most of the pine needles off the car but I figured Mister Parker probably put a lot of effort into keeping his car clean and in good condition.

John extracted our luggage from the trunk and I lugged what I could into the house. It was even hotter here than it had been in Houston. I spotted the front entrance to the house but we were parked at a side entrance and that's where we entered the house. Mrs. Parker was waiting there for us as getting our luggage had taken us a minute.

"Come on in," Mrs. Parker urged as she went inside before us.

The side entrance led into the open floor plan side of the house. To my right was a long living room that ran all the way to the front door. There was a big flat-screen television sitting on a stand next to the huge front windows. Across from the television were a couch and two recliners.

Also in the living room set a large Christmas tree. It was eight feet tall, just brushing the ceiling, decorated with lights, balls, and various ornaments. At the base of the tree were arranged dozens of gifts. I recognized several as the ones that I had wrapped and shipped on ahead of us. I was glad that they had made the trip unscathed or, at least, unopened.

Directly ahead of me was a hallway that ran alongside the living room. It began halfway down the living room, creating the hall but leaving the living room more open. I saw a couple doors down this small hallway.

To the left of this hall I saw into a horseshoe shaped kitchen. Across from the kitchen, directly to my left was a big dining room set in a very open area. Beyond the big dining room table and chairs I saw a breakfast nook looking out onto the back yard through glass doors with a small table and a single chair, and another hallway leading off on the other side of the kitchen.

Mrs. Parker said, "Johnny, I have your old room set up for you." Then she looked at me and said, "Robin, dear, you can sleep in Jenny's old room."

John had told me that Jenny was his older sister. I didn't know much about her other than the cute pictures he had shown me but I had thought she was supposed to already be there. As if on cue, John asked, "She's not here yet?"

"Snowed in!" Mister Parker said behind us as he slipped into his house and closed the door. "In Louisiana it should get down into the forties tomorrow but the cold front has already hit Pennsylvania."

"Yes, they are having a lot of ice at the airport in Philadelphia. She's going to be late by a day or two," Mrs. Parker informed us.

John asked, "What happens when Jenny gets in if Robin's sleeping in her room?"

"Oh, they can share," Mrs. Parker replied.

"I don't know if that's a really good idea. You know how Jenny likes her space. We should stay in a hotel," he told her.

John seemed agitated to me. We had discussed how much it would cost us to stay at a hotel for the whole week and decided against it. Had he really thought that his parents would let us sleep together? I could have told him that wasn't going to happen because of how religious he told me they were. They were the opposite of my mother.

"Johnny, don't be ridiculous," Mrs. Parker replied. "And don't talk bad about your sister. I spoke to her before we left to pick you up and she said that she would be glad to share. She's excited to get to know Robin."

John was about to object again but I saw the futility of it. I was looking forward to meeting Jenny and I thought that sharing a room with her would be great for that. I didn't know exactly why he was so upset but I assumed it was his way of looking out for me. I was tired and I wasn't reading him right. I said, "John, it's okay. Mrs. Parker, I'd love to share Jenny's room if she'll have me."

She smiled and said, "It's settled them. Follow me."

John was irritated and I didn't know why but at that moment I was too tired to worry about it. Between the plane ride, the weather, the car ride, my period, and the stress from trying to make a good impression on the Parker's, I was beat. I followed Mrs. Parker through the open dining room.

The hallway on the other side of the kitchen led to three other rooms. The first on the left was a bathroom and the last on the right was Jenny's room. I glanced through the open door of the room on the left and discovered it was a huge bedroom. I assumed John's parents slept in that room.

John, Mrs. Parker, and I walked into Jenny's room. Jenny liked pink. Everything in the room was pink, from the walls to the throw rugs. All of the floors in the house, except in the tiled kitchen and bathrooms, were covered by the same brown carpet. I didn't blame Jenny for trying to cover some of it up with the pink throw rugs. Her bed was a double, covered with a pink comforter and numerous pink pillows.

While John went back to retrieve my other bag Mrs. Parker told me, "Robin, please make yourself at home. Jenny has a big walk-in closet. She only uses the left side, so you could hang your clothes on the right. She asked me to leave her stuff alone, but I don't think she'd mind you putting your stuff away."

"Thank you, Mrs. Parker."

"Don't mention it. I'll have supper ready in about an hour so you can take that time to put some of your stuff away and freshen up," she informed me with a smile.

After Mrs. Parker left I heard her say to John in the hallway, "Here, I'll take that. You need to stay out of her room, young man. I'm not going to have any shenanigans going on in my house."

"But, Mom-" I heard John try to object.

"But nothing," she said. "I'm serious. Adult or not; my house, my rules. Clear?"

"Yes ma'am," John said.

I hadn't moved, straining to hear without going to the door. Mrs. Parker came back to the doorway and handed me the last of my luggage. She smiled sweetly before leaving and closing the door behind her.

I took a deep breath. I didn't know how I was going to survive a week on my best behavior. I decided to worry about it later as I started to unpack. I've been known to procrastinate as I'm primarily impulsive. John is the planner.

After checking my bags to make sure I had everything, I took out my makeup bag and my other toiletries, and I ventured out to the bathroom. The hallway and the bathroom had various pictures on the wall. I knew the photo of a girl in the bathroom had to be Jenny. I remembered seeing her in John's photos on his computer. She was really pretty, prettier in that picture than any in John's computer. I looked forward to meeting her.

I didn't wear a lot of makeup so there wasn't much to fix but it made me relax. I figured it might be too early to try to take a shower, though I wanted one really badly. I checked and found that my period was nearly over. Thank God.

Still in my travel clothes I sat at the dinner table with Mister Parker as Mrs. Parker finished up the meal and started putting it on the table. John had changed clothes, wearing a clean shirt and his cargo pants instead of his jeans. He looked relaxed as he kissed me on the cheek and sat down next to me. I kept my hands to myself, reminding myself that the Parker's were watching me very closely. I had to make them like me.

Supper was delicious. though the portions were too much for me. Compared to the Parkers I barely put anything on my plate. My mom called it supper too, but all my friends called it dinner. 'Supper' was a very traditional reference and I liked that too.

I chatted with both Mister and Mrs. Parker, telling them about Denver and listening to their stories of John's childhood. He was younger than Jenny and there were several stories of Jenny playing dress-up with John when he was a baby. It embarrassed him but I found it cute. I was an only child so, even though my best friend at the time, Angela, has moved in with us when she was sixteen, I didn't know what it was like to have a real sister or a brother.

After supper we all retired to the living room to watch television. I didn't really care about what was on. Mister Parker controlled the remote and Mrs. Parker chatted with me about girl things. I wasn't the type of girl to get into crafts but Mrs. Parker was, so we didn't share a lot of similar interests. This made the conversations inevitably return to John's childhood. We had him in common.

Thankfully, I got to sit next to John while I chatted with his mom. We held hands but neither one of us dared be more familiar than that in front of his parents. I kept telling myself that it was only one week.