Author's Note to the Readers:
Unlike some of my other shorter multi-chapter story lines, I have allowed this story to run its own course at its own pace, hoping to portray the main characters in a more three-dimensional manner. I encourage to you to pour a nice glass of wine in a quiet setting and indulge in the tale of two siblings gradually crossing into a loving, incestuous relationship
.
The Jacuzzi
The Uber dropped Megan Williams and her brother, Jason, at the entryway of a long, sprawling driveway to the estate. The driver had said he'd be happy to drive them up to the house itself, but they politely declined. They both got out and began a long, leisurely quarter-mile walk toward the place they had called home throughout their childhood and into early adulthood. Megan was now 30, and her older brother Jason was 31. Each step carried a new burst of nostalgic memories.
The siblings walked along silently, side-by-side, for several minutes. Jason noticed Megan shiver despite the warm early-Summer Los Angeles weather. He put an arm around her and pulled her toward him, and she allowed her head to be slightly sheltered against his broad shoulder.
They were both dressed in black.
Jason lived with his wife in Sacramento. Megan stilled lived in L.A., but across town in Glendale. They hadn't seen each other in nearly a year. It wasn't by choice: they had always been close friends as well as siblings, quite fond of each other, but they both were incredibly busy in their different careers. They were happy to be in each other's presence again, but not under these unfortunate circumstances.
A week earlier, Jason had been pulled out of a meeting to take an urgent call from his sister.
"It's Mom," Megan said simply.
Jason gripped the phone. "Gone?"
"Not yet...but close."
Jason was on a flight just a few hours later, and he arrived at the hospital in time to join Megan in spending a few final hours with their mother, who finally passed peacefully just before midnight. While she hadn't been healthy the last couple of years, her sudden downturn had caught everyone by surprise. But she was at rest now, and the siblings were thankful that there had been, toward the end, just enough consciousness in their mother to recognize that they were both there. She died with a smile.
Their father had died twelve years previously. He had been a very wealthy developer, and the siblings were thankful for the fact that he had left a significant estate to their mom. They had each received a sizeable chunk, too, but to know that their mother would never have to worry about money in her golden years was a relief to them. Upon her passing, the entirety family fortune was to be split equally between the two of them. Financially, they were now set up pretty nicely. The only asset that would require a mutual decision was what to do with the house, which their mother had left to them as equal owners.
Megan and Jason were both successful in their own careers and living comfortably in their own homes with their respective spouses. Jason and his wife, Theresa, were childless, Megan and her husband George had five-year-old daughter, Julie. They walked slowly up to the house, because they both instinctively knew that it was likely to be the last time. They had already agreed to sell the place that neither of them intended to live in again.
The house was truly an outright mansion. Just before the time Jason and Megan had been born, their father had purchased a large plot of land in Bel Air, a posh residential area neighboring Beverly Hills. He had taken it upon himself to design and build an almost ridiculously enormous 6-bedroom house—at the time he had been expecting (hoping?) to produce several more children. But complications during Megan's birth (she came to be barely 11 months after Jason) had rendered it impossible for their mother to conceive again. Nevertheless, their father decided to keep the big house, and the siblings had grown up around quite a few adventures throughout the expansive estate. It had not been unheard of for a single game of hide-and-seek to last all day!
Their mother had been very private, with only a few close friends, and there were no other close relatives, so the funeral had been small and intimate, with just a brief reception afterward. Megan and Jason were happy to return to a house that was now quiet, neither of them being a fan of moping around for hours with people saying how sorry they were. They'd said good-bye to Mom, they would certainly miss her, but life had to go on.
Even though Megan lived just across town, there had been agreement that she would stay at their mom's place, as would Jason, so they could sort through all the paperwork and take care of all the other complicated logistics that seemed to pile up around someone's death, especially so for someone of considerable wealth. Lawyers and bank managers, financial advisors and domestic employees...they all had to be dealt with. Then there was the task of finding the right realtor to put the house on the market. Jason's wife understandably knew that Jason would be away for a week or two. Megan's husband, George, had agreed to stay back at the house with their daughter so that Megan could focus on dealing with the estate.
A few days after the funeral, everything had been pretty much squared away. The financials were dealt with, and the house was now listed and would start showing on Sunday. Jason was in the study, at what was his father's, then his mom's desk, putting a random file away. Megan entered, waving her cell phone.
"It's after five," she declared. "No more paperwork. Let's order some food that's bad for us and cut loose."
Jason smiled at her. Megan had always been the more mischievous of the two. Whereas his normal air was that of quiet thoughtfulness, hers was generally cheerful and chatty, but not overly so. She also had a wry, sardonic wit and was more adventurous, which contrasted (as well as complimented) with his more reserved, logical way of approaching life.
"We've already been eating food that's bad for us," Jason said. "There's leftover pizza in the fridge."
"I know, but I want to double-down on the carbs with some Chinese food. Whaddya say?"
Jason regarded his sister for a moment. Like him, Megan had been moved deeply by their mother's death, but as the cheerleader of the family she was making an effort to distract them from their grief. She was no longer wearing black but was now clad in red shorts and a stylish white V-neck t-shirt. Her long, auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her feet were bare. Through a brotherly lens, Jason noted that Megan was quite beautiful and in excellent shape. Her legs were toned and tanned. Her sizeable breasts were often the first thing people noticed about her—at least, that had been what all of Jason's buddies had been obsessed with throughout high school. But the most physically attractive thing about her, in
his
opinion, was her radiant smile.
She was smiling at him now.
"Sure," he said. "Let's throw in a little MSG with our pizza grease."
"Good choice, sir!" Megan said in a British butler's voice, as if Jason had been the one to suggest what they'd been eating for dinner. She tapped on her phone for a food delivery service. She glanced up at him once, about to ask what he wanted, but she knew what he liked. She admired his consistency.
She also had to admit to herself that Jason was quite handsome. Even dressed down in old faded jeans and a simple polo shirt, she knew he could capture more than a few glances from the ladies. His wife was lucky to have him. He stood six feet to her tall-for-a-woman five-foot-six. Like her, Jason was slender, but with a very athletic build, sculpted through a combination of good genes, hours of tennis per week, and running at least three times a week. And except for this week, of course, she knew that he was a very healthy eater.
A little over an hour later the siblings were exchanging greasy smiles, having wolfed down far too much broccoli beef and orange chicken than was necessary.
Pushing her plate away, Megan said, "You know what I'm amazed we haven't done yet?"
Jason wiped his mouth and stood to start gathering the dishes—really just polystyrene plates and cheap chopsticks. "Tell me what we haven't done yet."
"Raided Mom's bar."
Jason grimaced. "You mean
Dad's
bar. Mom barely drank; I'd wager the booze in that bar dates back to when Dad was alive."
"Well," Megan said, standing. "There's only one way to find out."
Their father had built a substantial wet bar into the general layout of the formal living room, and the siblings spent several minutes digging through the various cabinets for anything that still looked drinkable. There were a number of half-full bottles that looked a little scary, covered in dust. However, to their pleasant surprise, there were also full bottles, still sealed.
Megan jumped back around to the other side of the bar and leaned up against it, like a customer. "So, what do we have, barkeep?"
Jason arranged them neatly on the bar, facing the labels out toward her. "Well," he said, "we've got a couple of vodka choices, some gin, and a few styles of whisky, bourbon." He also confirmed they also had a few mixers that looked consumable.
"Perfect," Megan cheered. "We've got the basics. I'll get some ice."
A few minutes later, they were relaxing on the couch, each sipping a huge martini. Megan's was more on the fruity side, with vodka. Jason was a traditionalist and preferred pretty much straight gin.
"This is nice," Megan sighed, taking a healthy sip. "We've been moping around this house for days, and I've hardly had so much as a glass of cheap red wine in the last week."
"Agreed," Jason said, savoring his own beverage.
