Chapter 2: The Party.
The heavy drapes had been drawn in the living room and the low lighting was indirect. The table was loaded with food which surrounded a large cake with 21 candles. There was a good selection of drinks stacked up, including a case of my favourite wine: how much did they expect me to drink, for goodness sake? But the twins had done us proud with the food they had laid out and I was quick to take a plateful of sandwiches before relaxing in my chair. We had managed to snatch a quick snack in the shopping mall earlier but that had been hours ago and I was starving now.
Matt poured us all our favourite tipples while Peter started some soft music on the music centre. They all grabbed some food and for a few minutes we sat around in comfortable silence munching. I got up to refill my plate a couple of times and Matt made sure my glass was topped up.
When our immediate hunger was satisfied they asked me to cut the cake. Paul lit the candles and carefully carried the cake to me as they all sang the Happy Birthday song. Taking a deep breath I blew out all the flickering flames and, as thin tendrils of smoke rose from the dying wicks, I closed my eyes and made a wish that our family would continue to grow close and loving.
Matt opened a bottle of champagne with a loud pop and passed glasses around as I cut five generous slices of cake and distributed them to the boys and myself. Matt made a small speech thanking me for everything I had done for them all. Raising his glass towards me, he proposed a toast, "To Mary: Happy Birthday, sister and Mum!" They all raised their glasses and echoed the toast. I was just so choked up inside I had to dab tears from my eyes and was shaking with emotion as they all hugged me close.
I sat back down in my chair. Peter and Paul sat on cushions at my feet – a position they'd often take up when we were watching TV. Matt and Mark were also on cushions in front of me as we settled down and started reminiscing about our shared past. The drinks were flowing freely and we were all getting a little tipsy. I didn't care; this was the first time I had 'let my hair down' for longer than I could remember.
There came a lull in our conversation so I stood up, pulling Paul with me. "Dance with me, Paul," I asked and we shuffled around for a while. I danced with each of my brothers in turn, happily relaxing in their arms. When it came to Peter's turn, I was a little surprised to feel his hands moving up and down my back but I gave it little thought.
Eventually we sat back down again: Peter leaned back with his head on my lap and his hand resting on my right knee. Paul took up a similar position on my left. Nothing unusual in that, they had done it countless times over the years. I suppose they had felt more secure like that, especially in the early days when they were missing our Mum. I liked it: they were a comfort to me, too, back in those days when we were all feeling vulnerable. We got around to talking about their various girlfriends. Matt had an ongoing relationship with Julie, a girl on his team at work, and I fully expected them to announce their engagement eventually. Mark was also seeing a lot of his young lady, Samantha, but the twins were still playing the field and had no steady commitments even though one or both of them would occasionally be absent overnight.
I, of course, had no boyfriend to tell them about. In the early days I had gone out on a couple of dates but nothing recently. I became conscious of Peter's hand idly stroking my knee as we talked but I had to disturb him as I answered an urgent need to empty my bladder. When I returned the boys had drifted into talking about their various experiences with girls. I sat back down with a replenished glass of wine and Peter resumed his position. Maybe the alcohol had loosened their tongues because the conversation became more and more explicit as they related some of their exploits.
Peter's hand was starting to get more intimate, drifting higher and higher up my thigh, making me feel a little embarrassed so I decided to break up this little scenario by telling them I wanted some more dancing. Peter, on his turn, had his hands roaming again before they settled on my bum as he pulled me in close. I was feeling somewhat ambivalent about what was happening. On the one hand, his touch was generating feelings in my body which had been repressed for years but on the other hand, he was my brother.
Look, my feelings about incest are pretty neutral. The only big problem is genetic: incest pushes those recessive genes to the fore but if there's no pregnancy, there's no harm. I'd never stopped taking my pill regularly, just in case, so there was no danger of me carrying a damaged kid. The rest is just cultural. And I won't deny, incestuous thoughts have occasionally crept into my private fantasies.
Peter tilted my face up and kissed me gently on the lips, not passionate but lingering for a few seconds. Although I made no specific decision, eventually I sighed and relaxed into his grip.
I continued dancing with each of them in turn and they all followed Peter's lead, holding me closely. Eventually I was back in Peter's arms and his next kiss, when it came, had his hand holding me round the back of my neck and I felt his tongue gently flicking over my lips. After a short while I opened my mouth and allowed his tongue to invade it. This set the pattern and after another round of dances I had kissed them all.
