I was one of "those people," I'm sorry to say; a hipster who had to go "find himself" by walking across Europe. In reality, retrospect has shown me that I was nothing more than a pretentious asshole. It took living like a bum and a chance meeting with a fifty-seven-year-old woman in Italy named Sophia to change me. This storyβwonderful as it may beβis not about my time with Sophia, who taught me what being a man really entails. No, this story is about what was waiting for me when I returned home.
After two years' absence, I was happy to find that the closest Dad had come to a midlife crisis was experimenting with Strawberry preserves on his PB&Js in lieu of his usual Grape before deciding that Grape was his favorite after all. Mom, on the other hand, had taken up tennis and lost about fifteen pounds while toning. She looked wonderful. My older brother Sean had become the ultimate capitalist and was quite successful in stocks. The only person I had not yet seen was my younger sister, Leah.
When I left for Europe, Leah was in twelfth grade, had stringy, mousy brown hair to her shoulders, wore braces and glasses, and had a slight acne problem. Mom and Dad said she was now attending the local technical college while working weekends. Doing what, they wouldn't tell me. Also peculiar was the fact that there were no pictures of Leah to be found. This, Mom told me, was so that I would be fully surprised when I saw her.
About two-thirty, Sean walked in with whom I assumed was his girlfriend or fiancΓ©e. "Wow!" I near-shouted when they entered the house. Then, "Damn, big brother. You've done pretty good for yourself there. She's a knockout."
"Really?" the woman asked.
"I don't mean any disrespect by concentrating solely on your looks, ma'am, but superficiality aside, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen."
"I can't believe this. Alan, it's me. Leah."
"What!?!?!?!" I screamed. Do you watch WWE? Do you know who Liv Morgan is? How the hell my sister transformed herself from the nerdy goofball she was into one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen was beyond my comprehension. I jumped up and took her in my arms and gave her a big hug, aware from the beginning of her firm breasts, her taut body, her waist-length hair that smelled like cinnamon. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Well, I ditched the glasses and got contacts, started doing Pilates, let my hair grow and dyed it blonde, and I work out three times a week so I can be in shape as a roller derby girl."
"You? In the derby?"
"Oh, she's one of the better ones out there," Dad said. "She paints a little Hitler moustache on her face and calls herself A Doll Hitter."
I just stared at her. She wasn't wearing a bra under her tight-fitting shirt, and her ample breasts protruded just as significantly as her nipples did. And her ass? Oh, my God! I bet I could bounce a quarter off it, it was so firm. I did my level best to not stare, but it was apparent that it was a losing battle.
"Well, it's good to have you home again, Alan," Leah said as she hugged me again, and when she got close enough, she whispered, "You do realize you're ogling your sister, right?" It shamed me to some degree, yet I kept stealing glances all night. Evcerytime I looked over at her, she was looking directly at me.
I knew if I made a move to the bathroom right now she would know why, which is why I waited until after dinner to announce that I was going to get my shower. "I thought you were going to stay with me tonight," Sean quickly said. "We have a lot of catching up to do, little bro."
"Yeah, I just think I'm going to stay here tonight. You know, jet lag and whatnot. I wouldn't be good company. Give me a few days to get reacclimated."