Jenifer is my little sister. And we're pretty tight, though that wasn't always the case.
There's almost two years between us. Once she began walking, she was always right there behind me. It seemed like every time I did something wrong, she was right there to catch it, running to mom and dad with every detail. She, however could do no wrong.
Little snitch. Deceitful little snitch, I should say.
Then, when she was in middle school, things began to change. Her 'baby girl' angelic persona began to falter and her halo gradually disappeared. By the time she was in eighth grade, Jen was merely human. Mom and dad weren't as worried about me anymore; they were sure she was going to be the discipline problem.
The night she snuck out to meet an older boy sealed the deal. She got grounded for a month. I knew the guy; he was a sophomore at my school. He didn't know enough not to run his mouth about that sweet young piece of pussy he was gonna sink his dick into as soon as he got the chance. I got three days in-school-suspension and a pat on the back from dad. Mom tried not to let me see her smile, but I saw it.
That was a turning point for my relationship with Jen. Mom and Dad were the forces of darkness raining on her parade, and for a change, Jen saw me as an ally. I didn't tell her about punching the guy out, or why I did it, but somebody did. I noticed the difference almost immediately. It started with a hug, and suddenly, her silence was golden; we were allies united. We watched out for each other and became good friends, actually trusting each other.
I was a junior in high school the first time she asked me for a favor. I don't even remember now what it was for. All I know is Jen had finally come to the realization that I was the one she could count on when all else was against her.
When we were little kids, I'd nearly despised the fact that she was a constant shadow. As teenagers in high school, if we didn't have dates lined up, the two of us would go out together; we were nearly inseparable.
Fast forward a few years. Jen followed me to college.
The fall semester of my junior year, her freshman year, was a disaster for me. Two weeks before homecoming, my girlfriend broke up with me. Suddenly, I was dateless. As luck would have it, Jen and her roommate Meghan were dateless, too. She'd met several guys, gone out with a few, but nothing serious, and the night of the bonfire found us standing next to each other. Erik, my roommate, was with us and played the chivalrous knight, lending her his sweater when she got cold. He managed to sweet talk her into giving up her phone number; they dated for the next two years.
Erik broke up with her when he graduated and jumped off into the business world. Jen was devastated, but quickly recovered when Dale swept her off her feet. He'd been quietly admiring her from a distance and moved in to lend her his shoulder to cry on when Erik dumped her.
They married when Jen had one semester of college left. None of us thought it was a good idea. That last semester was rough on her, to say nothing of the transition to being married to a husband working a new job. Dale was a nice enough guy, but he always struck me as more absorbed in extracurricular activities than he was focused on his new bride. Not that he was cheating on her, not with a woman, anyway. Poker, softball, basketball, watching sports at the bar, all with the guys. Nothing wrong with any of that, but it's all he did. Jen stuck it out for a couple of years and finally threw in the towel, tired of being ignored.
Their 'no fault' divorce was quick and simple. They parted ways without much disgruntlement on either side; I'm not even sure he even noticed she was gone. For reasons that were beyond me, Jen elected to keep her married name.
For several weeks, Jen lived in a depressed funk, convinced her marriage had failed because of something she had done or failed to do. I found myself sharing the task of consoling her and talking her down from her emotional ledge with Meghan.
Meghan and I had dated for a few months when she and Jen were freshmen, and though I knew I didn't have a shot at getting back together with her, it was good to see her and talk to her. Over the course of several weeks of deliberation, Jen decided to move and take a job working with Meghan. I helped Jen pack up and move.
It was a good deal all the way around; Jen now lived a mere ninety minutes away from me, and she was in the daily company of a good friend as she put her life back together. I kept plugging along on at my own job, with my own life; I'd never met Ms. Right, probably a good thing considering how much my job required me to travel, and Jen and I closed the gap in our relationship that had opened in the time we'd been apart.
Less than six months after she started working at her new job, she began fending off unwanted attention from a friend of Meghan's boyfriend, Dennis. She was not attracted to him at all, and he demonstrated a great reluctance to taking no for an answer. Jen called me not long after the new would-be suitor began making a nuisance of himself.
"I need a favor," she said. "Actually, I wanted you to know I've implicated you in a lie. It's nothing big and I don't need you to do anything. It's just, well, I told a lie and involved you in it."
"What kind of lie?" I asked. "And what kind of favor?"
"You know that friend of Dennis's I was telling you about? I told him you were my boyfriend."
"You told him I was your boyfriend?" I asked.
"He kept hounding me to go out with him," she said. "I'd already told him I had a boyfriend, and he kept pressuring me, so I showed him your picture and told him it was you."
"Meghan knows me," I said. "You think she can keep the secret?"
"She can't stand the guy, either," Jenifer said. "She won't tell him any different."
"Whatever, Sis," I said. "I'll be your boyfriend."
How hard could this be? It was deceitful, sure, but pretty clever, too. With only one other person around her that knew the truth, it was too easy.
That was over a year ago.
Little did we know Meghan's boyfriend would propose. She and Dennis had been together for three years, so I guess we shouldn't have been that surprised. Easy enough to figure she'd ask Jenifer to be in the wedding. I was kind of surprised, though, when Jen called and told me she and Meghan were coming to spend the weekend with me.
There had been awkwardness between Meghan and me for the two months following our breakup, but because she and Jen were roommates and good friends, we had moved past it. Meghan, to me, was like another little sister.
I got home Friday after work and did a quick clean-up of my apartment. Not that I'm a slob, but I'm not the neatest guy in the world, either. I changed the sheets on the bed; the girls could sleep there and I'd take the couch.
About nine o'clock, I heard a knock on the door. Looking through the peephole, I saw they'd finally arrived. I opened the door to greet them.
"How are you?" Meghan asked, kissing me on the cheek and hugging me.
"I'm doing well," I said, returning her kiss. "Congratulations on your engagement."
"Thank you," Meghan said as she moved out of Jenifer's way.
"Hey, Sis, it's good to see you."
Jen threw her arms around my neck and hugged me.
"You can't call me that," she said, holding herself tight to me. "I'm your girlfriend. What would people think if they heard you?"
She kissed me on the cheek and laughed at the perplexed look on my face.
"She's right," Meghan said.
"What people are we concerned about?" I asked.
"The people at Meghan's wedding," Jenifer said.
"My sister's going to be the maid of honor," Meghan said, "and Jen's going to be one of my bridesmaids. You have to come."
"Are you officially inviting me?" I asked.
"The invitation will be in the mail by the end of the month," she said, smiling and looking from me to Jen and back.
"Okay," I said. "You two are up to something. What is it?"
"I'm thirsty," Jen said. "Got the margaritas made?"
The women kicked their shoes off as I walked to the kitchen to get glasses for us. It was a tradition of sorts for us that went back to our college days. My apartment, margaritas, the three of us sitting, drinking and relaxing together.
"Need some help?"
I turned around to see Jen leaning against the counter behind me.
"Yeah," I said. "Grab those glasses."
She scooped them up in her hands as I balanced the salt and limes and picked up the pitcher.
"Don't drop anything," she said, bumping my hip with hers.
"Hey!"
The contents of the pitcher sloshed, threatening to spill over. I kept the liquid from spilling and followed Jen back into the living room. Don't ask me why my eyes fixated on her butt as she walked toward the couch. Her jeans were tight across her ass, stretching even more taut as she leaned over, setting the glasses down on the table. Jen turned toward me, taking the salt and limes from me as I sat the pitcher down.
Meghan slid back onto the couch and reached for the glasses. I moved a chair closer as she and Jen poured the margaritas.
"So what are you two up to?" I asked as I sat down.
"You know that guy I told you about?" Jenifer asked. "He's going to be one of Denny's groomsmen and said he'd be glad to take care of me for the weekend of the wedding since you'll probably be busy with other things."
"The guy's a real ass," Meghan said, contorting her face as she got a little too much lime at once. "But we're putting the wedding party up in a hotel not far from where we're getting married, so you can come and it won't be a problem."
"Why can't I just stay with you?" I asked Jenifer.
"Because they're getting married in a beach ceremony down along the coast," she said.
"Padre," Meghan said, nodding. "We're going to put the two of you in a room together."
"Really?" I asked. I didn't have a problem with it, but I knew somebody would.
"I've already dealt with the 'but they're not married' bit," Meghan said, "so that's not really even an issue. The big plus to all of this is that Rick will actually see the two of you together and maybe he'll finally leave Jen alone."
"There aren't any other single, available women where you live?" I asked.
"He's been all over two other women since he met me, slept with both of them, and keeps coming back," Jenifer said. "That's why this is so important. He doesn't think you exist. He's seen your picture, the flowers you've sent me..."
"When did I send you flowers?" I asked.
"You send them at least once a month," Meghan said.
"They're always really nice," Jenifer said. "I really like the daisies."
"So we're pretty serious, then?" I asked.
"After more than a year together as a couple?" Jenifer asked. "And we do spend a lot of our weekends together."
That much was true. Jen and I visited each other nearly every weekend, unless I was away for my job.
We killed off the first pitcher of margaritas slowly as we enjoyed each other's company. I wrote the date of Meghan's wedding down and made a note to get the time off from my job.
A couple of hours later, the pitcher was running low and the alcohol was warming us up. All three of us were relaxed, in a good mood, a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Meghan now sat in the chair by herself; Jen sat next to me on the couch, her arm looped through mine as she leaned against me.
Meghan was telling us about Dennis' family and stopped suddenly, looking at us.
"There," she said. "I wish I had a camera. I'd take a picture."
