Stepsister Has Hidden Desires
This is not a funeral story.
Part One - A Chance Meeting
Funerals play a disparate number of roles in our lives. They're known for refreshing old relationships, acknowledging friends and acquaintances whose paths we haven't crossed for some time, and for having an enormous impact on family and family relations. Often good, sometimes bad. Depends on the many variables at play. Of course, their primary role is bestowing honor.
To maintain regular close contact with family can be challenging due to distance, family responsibilities, job requirements, or the many extra activities that demand our attention daily. Often a funeral can fill the gap of social separateness.
The funeral I attended recently of a locally well known friend of the family brought an unintended, totally unexpected, but absolutely welcome benefit.
The service lasted longer than normal because of the large number of well wishers desiring to send our friend off with the many deserved accolades accumulated through the years. It was special, but it was long, and I was emotionally exhausted.
Just as I stepped outside through side door into the bright sunshine, my Stepsister Vanessa was exiting from the front. "Hey brother, long time, no see," she greeted me. Always calling me 'brother.' We embraced, causing a weird, small electric charge noticeable to us both.
"I see you're done for the day like me, I said to her. This was a long one."
I hadn't seen her since last years Christmas party where we toasted each other's future and hoped to see one another soon, no plans made. I'd had a secret craving for her for a long time but, I knew that crossing that line could bring some potentially negative blowback affecting others in the family. So, I always checked my longings and my normally aggressive, go get the pussy tendencies.
Seeing her brought back good memories. We only manage to see one another at family events or social situations such as this. Of course, etiquette is the order of the day. A few years ago when I left home Vanessa seemed to be happily married, working, and loving her newborn son.
But life dealt her a cruel blow when her husband suffered a heart attack and died unexpectedly. Leaving her and son to fend for themselves, which she apparently had done a well regarded job of accomplishing.
We talked for a few minutes catching up on family drama before verifying that we had each other's cell phone number. We agreed to do better at staying in touch. "Be sure to call me," she said as we parted.
Busy for the next two weeks, I'd forgotten about our chance funeral meeting. A phone call from my cousin Sean one day mentioning he had run into Vanessa grocery shopping jolted my memory. I promptly called Vanessa the next day but got her voice mail.
The following day, she returned my call. We talked and laughed on the phone for thirty minutes. Her primary goal was getting her son through college, then she would be free to do more traveling. She said she was financially secure and ready to explore more of the exciting, fun stuff life had to offer.
Widowed at the young age of 41, she lived alone and with her son away in school, she did as she pleased, "when she wanted to," as she put it. She said she hadn't been with anyone since her husband, and was afraid to get close to anyone. She revealed that she had big trust issues.
We made a tentative appointment for a lunch get together the following week. I offered to invite Sean, who I hung out with occasionally, and she had always been fond of him. She saw that as an added bonus.
Cousin Sean and I arrived at the designated restaurant a few minutes before Vanessa and were seated. Sean was excited about seeing her again. He always knew from our younger days that I wanted to smash my stepsister. He correctly guessed that today's lunch was part of that mission. "You horny son of a bitch!" He said laughingly.
When she arrived, the hostess led Vanessa to our table. She was clad in business casual attire, having just left one of her volunteer functions. She greeted us with hugs. I squeezed her a little tighter than necessary, sending a subtle message.
We had a lunch to remember. Sean's comical genius kept us howling between bites. Dredging up hilarious tidbits about friends and parents from our youth, we frequently apologized for our noisiness to the understanding table seated close to us.
After an hour of fun, conversation, and good eating, we promised to stay in touch and to get together more often. I told Vanessa I would call her soon.
Surprisingly, she called first, on the following Wednesday to invite me to a small get together with friends she was having Friday evening at her home. "Don't bring anything, just yourself and Sean. He's fun to be around, and I have a girlfriend I want to introduce him to."
"Invitation accepted, I said. Text me the details and I'll contact Sean, and we'll see you Friday."
I sensed I was getting closer to opening that flower, and I got a rise whenever my imagination led me to visualize those long legs on her 5'10" frame spread wide beneath me while we delighted in one other's assets.
Friday evening came, and Vanessa turned out to be a great dinner hostess. The food was great, and her friends were fun to be around, coming primarily from the artsy, creative side of life, that being their life's calling.
Fun games spiced up the evening, and Vanessa, a wine connoisseur, introduced three new releases of California Chardonnay for us to sample; she and I chose the same brand as our favorite. She winked at me in approval.
At the end of the evening, she and I talked wines while I helped her clean the kitchen, just as we did growing up, while the others talked and relaxed in her front room. There was plenty of food left over, and when we finished, she asked, "Would you like a quick tour of the house?"
"Yes, that would be cool, I replied. Vanessa guided me on the downstairs tour first, including the garage, where she reminisced about her late husband spending a lot of time there doing the things men do, and then she led me upstairs.
Her home had a peaceful, traditionally decorated flavor, making every room feel comfortable. The south facing sunlight-filled Guest Room was the first upstairs stop.
Then her son's room, as expected, decorated with wall posters, trophies from his debate competitions and sports. He helps relieve some of her loneliness, she said,
Then we reached the Master Bedroom, her private sanctuary. The bed was magnificent! She had Old World Style furniture which reeked of comfort and richness.
Her bed was covered with a gaggle of pillows and fluffy, luxury bedding to curl up in. Oh, we were going to have some fun in here, I thought to myself. But I behaved.
On our way back downstairs, she said, "You know what, there is a lot of food left over. Why don't you come by tomorrow evening to help me finish some of it? That way, I won't have to worry about what to do with it all."
"That sounds delicious, and it saves me from figuring out what I'm having for dinner tomorrow, I replied. What time should I be here?" The invitation I had been hoping for.
