Book XX: Revelations II, and the Final Farewell
Oh, where do I even begin? How this book came into my possession would be a good starting point, but so much had happened prior to that that I really need to go as far back as the entry Daddy asked me to compile—you know what? Let's just say that everything from Book Fifteen to now was recently added. Okay. There. Even still, it's not enough.
Okay, so as I write this, I am thirty-three years of age. I am sitting alone outside of Jason's Landing—that's the name I have given the farmhouse that Daddy purchased from Grandma. It is twelve-thirty a.m. My partner, Lisbeth, and our twin children, Linda Shari Conyers-Saunders and Jason James Conyers-Saunders, are fast asleep. There is a fire burning before me, and I just added another log, so I should be okay for a while longer.
There is so much that has not been said, so much to divulge, yet, for what reason? The fire burns because it is thirty degrees out at the moment. The fire also burns so that I have light by which to write. Lastly, though, the fire burns because once I dot the last "I" and cross the last "T" and indent the final sentence, this, and every other part of this book, is going to burn.
I suppose I should start by saying that I have read this book in its entirety over and over again. I see now why Daddy thought it important to preserve the diary and the subsequent additions. I'm just sorry he was never able to do with them what he truly wanted, or does the fact that I now have possession of them fulfill his fondest wishes? Be that as it may, history class is now in session.
Shortly after my return from Greenland, Daddy told me that the results from the paternity test had come back and I was, indeed, his daughter. His next move was to legitimize me, which involves lawyers and the court, and my understanding of it is that the biological parent basically has to adopt his biological offspring. Whatever. Anyway, he assured me that this was all for the best because he wanted nothing standing in the way of my inheritance.
I finished at Brown, accruing both a Bachelors in Physics and a Bachelors in Psychology. I know Daddy was hoping I would follow in his footsteps, but Psychology had the stronger pull on me. Daddy flew Mom in for my graduation. It was strange seeing them together for the first time since that video was made all those years ago. She recognized Aunt Linda immediately, and they shared laughs over an isolated incident most people would have forgotten.
I'll be honest. I really tried to play matchmaker with Mom and Daddy. I suppose part of that was just me wanting a family. Not that the Saunders' didn't provide me with one. It was just a child's fantasy to have her mother and father together. Mom and Daddy just didn't click, though. Too much time had gone by, and both were on their own, respective paths.
Daddy was saddened that I was moving away to pursue my Masters at Stanford, and doubly so when I went to the University of California—Berkley for my Doctorate. I came back home as often as I could, though, because I missed everyone so terribly. Then I met Lisbeth.
How our paths crossed in a world as big as ours is anyone's guess, but this Aussie had me at "Hello," and she has had a stranglehold on me ever since. Believe it or not, she is so much like every member of my family that it is scary. She is as brilliant as Daddy, as understanding and in touch with human emotions as Aunt Linda, as kind-hearted as Grandpa, and as resourceful, easy-going, and beautiful as Grandma.
The first day we had met, she told me that I was whom she had been searching for all her life. I felt it, too, but I had to wonder if that feeling was true, or if I just missed my family and lovers so. I told her that night that if she wanted to be with me then she had to accept all my baggage without question, then I told her all about the incestuous relationships I shared to this day with my family, and I told her that as much as I may eventually grow to love her, that I could never give them up, not for anyone.
Surprisingly, she said she understood completely and that she would never ask me to do such a thing, that she and her mother had spent the last six years in a relationship before her mother succumbed to cancer. She then told me that if we ever got to the point where I introduced her to my family, that she didn't mind sitting on the sidelines if the need to express my love with any of them overcame me. I think it was at that point that I decided I loved her.
The incestuous relationships I enjoyed with each family member were so very different from what I had with another. For instance, my relationship with Grandma was always a nurturing one. She helped me to become the mature woman I am today. To contrast that, however, Aunt Linda is a jokester with a killer sense of humor, and she is extremely playful, so she has always kept me young at heart.
Grandpa was a no-nonsense kind of person. When we made love, we knew what we were after: Gratification, plain and simple. And yes, my ass still belonged to him alone. Daddy, now ... Once I had chosen which Masters (and eventual Doctorate) I was going to pursue, Daddy helped me delve into the psychology of the incestuous relationships I had. He put me on the track of, "What do you get from each that you don't get from another? Do you enjoy the differences, or do you yearn for more sameness?" He once told me that it was like a complex math problem, that the answer was already there, but I had to figure out the most efficient way of reaching it.
I maintained contact with everyone back home via email, text, and skype. As graduation day approached, all contacted me through one medium or another to tell me how proud they were of me, that they loved me, and that they would be seeing me very soon. I had already told them of Lisbeth, and all were happy for me, especially Aunt Linda, but that didn't stop her from being who she is. In fact, I dare say that her flirting increased upon my revelation.
One day I received a text from her that was a picture of her naked, her legs spread wide, and her holding two Alaskan king crabs near her crotch. The text read, "This is what I get for sleeping with a local. And they say everything is bigger in TEXAS? I think not."
I sent her a return with me in the same pose, only I was holding two lobsters. "You know how us blue-bloods do it."
A day later, she sent me a picture of a powdered sugar doughnut that had a piece bitten out of it. The text read, "I was thinking of you and had to bite something sweet. Or did I bite this and immediately think of you?"
I sent her a pic of my legs parted wide, and just above my clitty I sprayed a splotch of whipped cream and placed a cherry on top. "This is what awaits you when I see you again."
Her next text was a simple, "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Can hardly wait."
Two days later, Grandma called me and told me that Aunt Linda was dead.
Her and that God-damned tequila! She had been filming in Alaska. Inebriated, she was attempting to navigate her way across a narrow passageway alongside the ship when she lost her footing and fell overboard. When her body was finally pulled from the icy water, she was still maintaining her hold on the bottle.
Her death was hard on everyone because of the many levels of love and reverence with which we held her. The funeral coincided with graduation day. This was a no-brainer. I had already walked twice, thus I had no need to do so a third time. Besides, I would never get another chance to be with my family when they needed me most, when
I
needed
them
most.
Lisbeth accompanied me, and why wouldn't she? We were already so deeply in love with one another. My family accepted her without question. I made it a point to tell them that Lisbeth knew about the incest, and she was fine with our continued practice of it, but that in no way meant that she was to become a part of the equation, a variable, as Daddy may call her.
After the funeral, Daddy said he wanted me back home, that I needed to be closer to the family. I wanted that, too. As an incentive, he gave me the house I now occupy. I applied for a position at Brown, and two weeks later I was the psychology department's newest instructor. I would stay with Daddy through the week, then come home to Lisbeth on the weekends, unless she decided she wanted to come back to the Brown house, which was fine with Daddy.
Lisbeth and I wanted to begin our own family. She was intent on finding a sperm donor who would exemplify every good and positive trait one could possibly conceive, so when I suggested my father, she had no qualms about it.
The day we asked Daddy if he would consent to it, he cried. The process would be In Vitro, of course, though truth be told, we did spend a good three months having him ejaculate into a turkey baster and me shooting the contents into Lisbeth manually. The In Vitro finally took, though, and nine months later our twins were born.
Grandpa called me one day to tell me that last time he was at the farmhouse, he noticed a leak in the roof. I told him to hire someone to fix it, but Grandpa, who really had no business attempting to work on it, took it upon himself to do the job. Lisbeth took our children and decided to spend the day with Grandma while he was there, and upon her return ...
It seems that there was a patch of dry rot that had gone unnoticed by Grandpa. He stepped onto the roof and fell through. It was better than thirty feet from the roof to the floor. Upon her return to the house, Lisbeth performed as she should have. First, she called 9-1-1, then she called Grandma, then she called me, and I told Daddy. By the time Daddy and I returned home, it was too late. Lisbeth said his final words were, "Tell Shari I have always loved her," then he was dead.
Grandma was heartbroken. We all were. Daddy took Grandpa's death the hardest, though. He spent all of five minutes at the wake before disappearing, and remained absent even onto the funeral. We were all greatly concerned, of course. That goes without saying. I drove back to the house at Brown thinking I would find him there, but no such luck. A phone call home told me that no one was yet to hear from him, so I started back to lend what comfort to Grandma I could.
At two the following morning, my phone rang. It was Daddy. I sat up and answered immediately, and could tell by the way he spoke that he had been drinking, if not already downright drunk. "I told you we were cursed." Those were the first words out of his mouth.
"Daddy, no," I said soothingly. "It's just happenstance. A great kick in the balls, yes, but happenstance nonetheless."
