Home for the Holiday

Thoughts while driving four hours:

The idea of going to a family reunion - which I'd been thrilled about before - has become unbearable, almost painful. I haven't seen my folks in a really long time, or my sister or her husband. But, I met a girl two weeks ago and we have been inseparable. I would not go at all, but SHE left two days ago, to go home. Her absence is painful.

The sex we have is insanely addictive. I'm petrified of it running dry with an absence, like a reservoir without a daily rain, nourishment. Diane's fingers brushing up my thigh. I fear that when next I see her, we could feel - nothing at all. Every time we run out of things to say or when I say something stupid, or don't quite understand what it is she meant my whole body fills with dread.

So, now I am driving to Rachel's house, my sister and her husband's house. I have made a solemn vow to mom that I will get along with her this time, but no such promise extends to the lout she is married to. Every time I see him he offers me a job. I say, 'I'm a musician.' He says, I mean a REAL job.

She never had problems like mine, always having been miss popular, miss perfect, miss rich, miss have everything she's ever wanted. She's older than me, and married like the richest guy in the area - of course. Self obsessed, her only thoughts are of her and hers. I can feel my fists tighten on the wheel.

I always feel left out, second best. Her nickname for me - Loser, or as she says it - Lou-Oozer. Though she hasn't said if for a few years. I wish I could have brought Diane home with me, feeling all smug, SHOWED her off. Feel for once like I'm not unpopular one, the stupid one in the family, a failure.

I haven't had sex for the last three days. We been doing it nonstop, everywhere. I think about her going to her home town. Old Boyfriends? New Loves. This vague anxiety, my heart skips in my chest. Fuck! I am hard right now just thinking about her, the warmth of her in my belly.

I swear if I'm not miserable alone, I'm freaking out, worried that I'm going to lose all the incredible things I've found. On the topic of insanity, I will be spending a week with my family. I promised mom that Rachel and I would get along, and I will give it my best shot. Be the good son. But I'll Drop the girlfriend bomb on them and lean back, watch my mom smile her approval. I tap the wheel, look at the flat barren landscape of 'home' the thin layer of frost, the gray trees, gray sky, dead grass. Not a lot to do in the middle of nowhere.

The phone rings. I look, it's Rachel, "Hey, it's Rachel. Where you at."

I hold the phone to my ear, and briefly think - just hang up - you can say you lost connection. "The road. What'd you want?"

"Did you get the tickets? When was it again?"

"Yeah, I did, Tomorrow night. Last ones. They cost a fortune."

"Oh. Uh, Ok then. Uh."

Shit. "What?"

"Say, I got some things I got to do, for Blake. The afternoon before the concert. You think we could get these things done, like before the concert and . . ." I sighed. Always this drama. "And there's some things he wants me to get, for the week everyone is here. Maybe we could do some shopping too, maybe, even before that. David?? You still there?"

"Can't we just, make a plan and . . ." And then I paused, and with a sigh breathed out, "Fine. Whatever."

A few more words, and I hung up.

She was already ruining my visit.

-----------------------

Rachel and I whirl into her house, arms full of crap. Tossing bags, coats, boots, scarves where they can, the foyer is as big as my whole apartment. Fresh flowers, a piano in the other room which I can show off. Going all day long, and we still have to get ready for the concert.

I'm feeling stressed and tired when Rachel turns to me, "David." I face her, my arms full of stuff. "I might be too tired to go to the concert tonight."

"What!!"

"I'm just tired, that's all."

"Tired. . . Doing YOUR stuff, Blake's stuff all day, you mean." My voice rising, "I already bought the tickets, Rachel. It wasn't my idea to go shopping AND do all this stuff. They were $150 each. THAT was WHAT WE WERE GOING TO DO TODAY," my voice rising until I realize I am shouting.

I surprise even myself.

She steps back. "You, you can still go."

"Why wasn't Blake doing this shit anyway."

To which Rachel looks like I am crazy and looking over her shoulder, says, "He's busy."

"I thought we were going to go together, spend time together. YOU asked to do this, got me to buy them."

"We have had time together, besides if you are going to be like this, I don't know if I WANT to go along anyway."

"What?"

She is holding her purse out, "I mean you've been snippy with me all day, here. Here, I'll pay you for my ticket. Just GO."

"What? I, have NOT."

I put my hand to my eyes. This isn't, God DAMN, happening. "You ALWAYS do this. Listen. I went to YOUR things, and now you are going to go to MY thing. Got it. You are going to this!" My heart is pounding in my chest.

"What do I ALWAYS do??"

"This. THIS. I make plans. No, you make plans I agree to. But if its something I actually might want to do, well then it's not important is it? Doesn't mean shit to you. NEVER does. Fuck this shit. What are we Blake's little puppet?"

"Don't say that, that's not fair."

"I do all the things you want to do, all fucking day, but then you don't give a fucking rat's ass about anything that means ANYTHING to me. YOU ALWAYS DO THIS." I am turning away now. "Fuck this shit. God damn it, Rachel!"

The energy is draining out of me, so I sit down. I am panting.

She is just staring at me.

I am rising up from my bent over position, setting the last little bit of crap down now, moving my hand from my eyes to look at her, and can see the resolve in her eyes. The NO. That no compromise look. . .

She says again, holding money out in her hand toward me, "I'm not going. Here. It's no big . . . Here, take it."

And with that I move to the door, I have to get out of here, away - toward the living room, walking right past her saying as I pass, "God dammit Rach. I don't want your money."

She is standing partly in my path and as I brush by, shove her hard out of my way. My hand catches her shoulder and I can feel her spin back. She falls away from me, but I don't look. As I continue, there is this loud THUMP and CRASH - and turning to the noise, can see her laying on her back, sprawled out on the tile floor, her legs up on an Ottoman or bench or something. It looks like her head hit a coat rack.

I hadn't seen it there. I had shoved her right over the top of it, she went straight back. Hit her head.

Rachel is curling over to her side, going "Ow. Ow. Ow." Sort of whimpering and holding her arms over her head.

"Rach I, I didn't mean. I'm sorry." And I am rushing around, taking her hand. She rolls to face me and begins to push herself up.

At the moment she sits on the ottoman, she glares at me, "Why are we like this?"

"I'm sorry, its, I'm sorry. You ok? You don't want to go. Ok. Ok."

She continues, "We always fight." There is a silent pause before she stands up, getting ready to walk away, then faces me. I can see it in her face, that she is holding back tears. She looks as if she is crumbling.

"Rach."

Her nose is getting red, her eyes brimming with tears, and she is talking fast, "I wasn't going to, I wanted us to go. I really, did. But we have everybody coming to stay here, and Blake needs these things, and he wanted it to be nice, and I just can't keep everybody happy can I? So now this, I am a failure, and I so wanted to," and then through sobs, "But all day long. All day, you are - so mean. Everybody is so mean. Why do you all hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you."

Her shoulders are shaking in sobs, and she is really crying now. "You have any idea how mean you have been to me, all day long? I have enough trouble with," and she simply looks over her shoulder.

Rachel is looking at me wide-eyed, glassy with tears. She is standing right in front of me and I take her in my arms and feel her lean against me. "Rach, I'm sorry. I don't know everything. It's just that. I had plans, thought we had already made plans."

"We had, I told you what happened."

"I wanted to do this one thing, it was your idea."

She is just sobbing now, "Why? Why do you hate me?" I can feel her trembling in my arms.

So vulnerable. I hold her back away from me, I'm trying to comfort her, "I wanted a quiet day is all, I don't hate you. I wanted to do something for you. And then you want all this other. It feels like, I don't matter at all."

"For me. FOR me, how about with me. I didn't know. And why this, why are these things," and she grabs the tickets from my hands, "So fucking important anyway. It was an idea I had. That's all. It's not like you had to pay for them. What about with, What about doing something WITH me, like today WAS." She leans in again, and I squeeze her to me, "I didn't know. Didn't know you were upset, or . . . or anything. You never say, anything. Don't explain."

"You don't listen."

I could feel her hair brushing against my ear, the pain in her, shaking against me. Sobbing. "Does it matter. Besides. I can't please everyone, don't even know why I tray. And you, it's always ONE THING. And God, if its not that."

"Rach . . . Rach." She leans her head back again, shaking her hair out of her face. There is this singular moment, and she is suddenly so beautiful. Her green eyes, tears streaming down her face, her mouth.

I lean in, and kiss her. Kiss her right on the lips, a short kiss, can feel her kiss me back.

I lean away, "You ok?"

She nods, smears her hand on her cheek and leans in to kiss me once more.

"Yes. I'm ok," speaking as her lips touch mine. We are kissing, a soft slow kiss.

I turn my head and lower my chin, pull her closer, can feel her follow with her mouth and as I cradle her in my arms, open my mouth and take her lower lip between my own. I can feel her open her mouth, soft, warm, wet and we touch tongues. Electric. I let go, we fall away from each other. Her head is tipped back, her eyes looking at me. We say nothing.

She suddenly seems small and fragile. My whole life I was smaller, shorter than her, but today I feel stronger, for the first time.

I carefully lean in one more time. No pretense, we are calmed, and I intend to kiss her. We touch lips again. This gentle, slow, lingering kiss as she presses her lower lip out for me, letting me kiss, nibble, chew her lower lip. I love the way her mouth feels. Her taste, holding my mouth open, letting her explore my mouth with her tongue.

When suddenly she breaks away.

"I'm sorry, I." I realize I have nothing to say. Have no idea what just happened.

She turns, but stops a moment.

I say again, "I'm sorry. I didn't intend to." Did not want to use any word for it, "You ok?"

I have no idea what to do, where to go. I touch her shoulder, and she pulls away from me, begins to randomly gather packages. I start to help, there being no reason to do any of this.

"I'm ok. I need to put this stuff away." And with her arms full with the randomly grabbed bags, she leaves.

---------------------

Rachel threw the packages down on the sofa, and then continued to the other side of the house into her room, closing the door a little too hard.

Slam!

She slipped out of her jeans and her top, and was sitting in bra and panties combing her hair, looking at herself in the mirror.

A moment later the door opened and closed again, "What was all that racket." It was Blake standing there now in a dark suit coat and khaki pants.

"It's nothing, we got home. Don't worry yourself about it."

"There was shouting, I thought I heard crying."

Rachel wiped her eyes quickly, it was obvious she had been crying.

"You two fighting ALREADY?"

Rachel said, "No. It's just that, I don't want to go to the concert now, and He got mad at me."

"Not going to the concert? Why?"

She stood up, suddenly feeling bare, exposed in front of her husband and put a robe on. Thinking, 'What is going on with me?' She was unable to tell him everything, and he was sensing her reticence. Her heart was pounding. She was tired of the questions, of men telling her what she was going to do. Rachel drew her fingers across her lips. She could still feel the kiss.

"I don't want to."

"Listen, that concert was important to David."

"You don't know what happened? The day I had. I'm tired."

"I don't need to know. And I BET he's mad. You can't just blow something like that off, you know. I know you two don't get along but dammit, your going. You, go tell him that."

Rachel sat down again, her heart beating now with a different wind of emotion. "I have a million things to do tomorrow, I need to unpack all everything I had to get, and do, for YOU."

"Wait a second. I didn't want everyone here this week. THAT was you. You want them here, this was food and stuff we need this week. You don't have to put anything away. That we can have done. Rachel, Your being . . ."

"Unreasonable." She knew what he was going to say.

"Unreasonable."

And with a different tack, she went over and sat by Blake, "I want to stay home," and leaning her body against him, "be here with you. I knew you are going to be home tonight."

He stood, "No. No. You go tell David, your going."

A dizziness came over her with his words. Go see David. Why, Rachel was not exactly sure. She had been so centered on the fact that she was not going, taht she CAN'T go, when now the thought of actually going to the concert brought butterflies to her stomach. She was suddenly nervous. And to go and tell him?

"You're right, Ok, I'll go." Rachel, still stung by being ordered about, first by her brother and then her husband, gave a chaste little kiss and left.

---------------------

I had gone straight to the guest room and was now paging through a magazine while laying on my bed. Yet, I could NOT stop thinking about Rachel, whom I had moments before held so softly in my arms. It was crazy. Was she angry? She had disappeared so quickly. I looked at my watch, 6:30. Shit. Shit. Shit. I had better get ready if I'm still going. I honestly did not feel like doing anything.

Just as I lay the magazine beside myself, there was a knock at the door.

"David?" It was Rachel.

"Yes?"

Rachel opened the door, just enough to poke her head in, "Hey."

She was smiling, but still seemed nervous. I could see her shape framed in the doorway, wearing a fluffy pink robe. When she stepped in, I was imagining how she had felt in my arms, closing my eyes as she stepped into my room, trying to shake the thoughts out of my head.

"I had some time to think, and I decided David. I want to go."

"Yeah?!" I felt a wave of happiness. It was alright. I gave Rachel a big grin. "Great. You won't be disappointed."

She looked down at herself and held out the tie of her robe, "I need a little time to get dressed again." There was a pause, and Rachel feeling the need, continued, "Um, about what happened."

"No. Forget it. I'm sorry, it's just that you were crying. It happened. Nothing."

This flood of words came out of me, papering over my sense of guilt. I could feel my cheeks redden. I looked away as I felt my ears burn red.

"Ok. Meet you downstairs. We can leave it at that then, good."

---------------------

Rachel was still sore at, really everyone, but for reasons she did not fully know. At David for being so angry, at Blake for making her go to the concert when she did not really want to, at herself for being pushed around. Yet, there was something else. She had butterflies, and the idea of the concert began to excite her suddenly. It was a full choral orchestra, with modern music blended in, music she had grown to love with her years as David's older sister. He played a cello, and she could remember its eerie hauntingly beautiful sound fill the house.

It was a chance to really get dressed up. She was also angry at Blake and without really admitting it wanted him to know what he could be missing.

She chose her most delicious little black dress - a light rayon fabric - and was giggling wickedly at herself in the mirror as it slipped up her legs and over her shoulders. The only thing on underneath was a small pair of black panties. The fabric, its lightness, felt wonderful. Standing in the mirror, she turned to see the back as well and approving of what she saw said to no one, "Now where are those shoes?"

The black dress showed off her white shoulders perfectly, and she had brushed out her shining dark hair framing her face and falling in a mane down her back. She had put on just the right amount of makeup and applied the reddest lipstick she had, accentuating one of her best features - her mouth.

The dress plunged between her perfect tear drop breasts, and cinched tight around her waist accentuating her hourglass shape. It was also the shortest dress she had, with the hem ending at just below her crotch. She could feel the cool breeze on her legs and her pussy tingled as she walked, feeling deliciously decadent. Her heels were black and high stiletto's, pushing her ass back when she walked and showing off her long legs. Blake hated when she wore heels because they made her taller than him, but she was still shorter than David - and tonight she was going out with David.

The effect was just what she wanted, David's admiring gaze, mixing with Blake's jealous flare.

Rachel glided down the stairs, enjoying her effect on everyone.

"Well, I'm ready." And as she passed Blake, "Sorry you are so busy tonight. I could have spent it with you," saying it quickly and silently, out of earshot of David.

All he said was, "Have a good time then," and turning, was gone.

-------------------

The concert was fantastic. The seats were up at the side of the auditorium, in small balcony overhangs, shared by only three others.

Rachel leaned her shoulder against me whispering in my ear, "I do love this, don't you?"

The music filled her with happiness. As she sat there I slipped my arm around her. Rachel was filled with a delicious eroticism, helped in part by the two glasses of red wine she'd had before the concert at the bar.

As she leaned against me, I glanced down her front, watching as she played with her hair then smoothing down the fabric of her dress and grasping the hem at the top of her thigh and tugging it a little lower. The skirt riding up high on her legs. I could feel myself grow hotter as she curled her fingers under the hem, and taking her other hand in mine gave a squeeze.

I noticed how the narrow bands fabric that covered her breasts would curve away from her body lightly, allowing me to see perfectly from beside her the outlined curve of her breast. The sight of the curving bottom of her breast hugged by the thin fabric made my breath catch in my throat. I could feel myself stiffen at the combination of her warmth leaning against me, her fingers stroking her leg, and the vision of her soft breasts.

Rachel could sense my eyes on her, and catching my glances would meet mine and just smile quickly, as I closed my arms around her further; and underlying everything happening this evening I could not stop thinking how we had actually kissed. The feel of her mouth opening to mine. The feel of her lower lip held between my teeth.

Rachel's shoulders were so small. It was the first time I realized how small she was, how delicate. She had always been this larger than life person. Invulnerable.

It was weird.

She had such a beautiful mouth.

To now know its taste.

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At the intermission, Rachel and I slipped down to the bar again, having ordered additional drinks that they set out for later. Rachel picked hers up quickly and took a deep sip.