“Are you a friend of Sophie’s from the hospital,” I prompted, trying to push through the awkward moment.
Sophie coughed nervously and giggled. Oh, shit. When she giggled like that the weird-o-meter of any situation was about to go up.
“I’m going to let you two talk,” Sophie said. “Give me a yell if you need me.” With that she all but fled from the room.
Just what the living fuck was going on here?
“Well Mr. Drake,” Amy began, “Uhm..David. I’m your…I’m your sister.”
Part Two
“Bullshit.” I was about done with today’s adventures. “Please see yourself out.” I stood back up and began to turn away.
“Please David. Give me a minute to explain.”
“Dad,” Sophie said from the kitchen doorway, “You want to listen to this.” The “listen from the kitchen doorway trick” was one Grace taught both girls.
“Okay Ms. Fries. Wow me. Make it god because there are two facts I know and that is that I don’t have a younger sister and that my father never stepped out on my mother.”
Amy spoke very quietly, very determined, and very deliberately. “You’re not wrong on either of those.” She handed me a packet with the gright red logo from “Global Family Search LLC”. They’re one of the myriad outfits that do the DNA family searches. In fact it was the same one I sent my DNA to just a few weeks ago but I hadn’t gotten my info yet.
“My parents told me when I was a kid that I was adopted,” Amy said, “It never bothered me. I never cared.”
Amy sat back down and continued, “A couple of years back I sent my DNA in to see what I could find out.”
My gaze never left the packet. My blood was on fire. My Dad could be a lot of things when I was a kid. He was cheap. He was strict. At times he was distant. But he was the most honest and faithful man I have ever met.
“What did you find,” I asked.
“Mostly mundane stuff. That I was 98% English and 2% German. That I was related to George Washington of all things. Then last week this came in the mail,” she said indicating the packet. “They received DNA from someone that triggered a match for me. A brother.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, ” I just don’t see how this is possible. My father didn’t fuck around. I don’t have a younger sister.”
Amy’s face folded in a frown. I had to admit to myself: I know that frown very, very well. I see it on my face in the mirror when I’m uncomfortable and on the faces of both of my daughters when they were telling me something I didn’t want to hear. I was unnerved.
Amy continued, “I don’t think your father did. And I don’t think I’m younger.”
“There is no way you’re older than me,” I said. Shit, she had to be younger than me by ten years. Right?
The frown deepened along with a flash of irritation from her eyes at having been interrupted. Oh yeah, I know that look well, too.
“See, I googled you when I got the packet. My son loves your games, by the way.” She handed me a little laminated card. It was her driver’s license.
“Have you ever,” she fought for the words, “Have you ever felt like something was missing? Something you couldn’t place?”
Amy continued talking but I stopped listening. I looked at the line on her license that showed her birthdate. January 10, 1974. My birthday. Our birthday. What the fuck?
I heard the kitchen door swing open and a glass of water was placed in my left hand and two Tylenol in my right. Sophie gave me a half smile, patted my arm, and retreated far enough to at least give me the illusion she wasn’t eavesdropping.
“Sophie is a good kid,” Amy observed quietly. “I bet she’s a good doctor.”
“Yeah, but a bit of a nag when it comes to my health.”
Amy & I fell into a silence interrupted by our breathing. I opened the packet from Global Family and read the letter. It had one of those DNA charts that was meaningless to me without my own results. But I was beginning to expect it would look very similar.
Outside of that it clearly stated that a recent match indicated that I was Amy’s brother. Her brother with the exact same birthday.
“Are you saying,” it was my turn for the frown, “that we are twins?”
“It does look that way. I don’t understand it, either. Your family doctor,” she said pointing toward the kitchen, “suggests we get a real blood and DNA test. I think we should.”
Amy stood up retrieving her things from me. I stood up as well from reflect. What the fuck was I going to do? Hug Her? Shake her hand? She handed me a slip of paper that had a phone number on it.
“I’m staying at the motel in town until Monday. Please call me after you’ve had time to process this a little. Oh: Sorry about parking in front of your garage.”
I laughed, “Did Sophie warn you when you got here?”
“No,” she gave me a charming grin. A wonderful grin. “It was in your eyes when you came in the door.”
And with that she left.
I called to the kitchen, “I’ll be in my office,” and I headed down the hall to sit at my PC. I popped open Facebook and sent my brothers, Dean and Cal, a message.
“Zoom. Now.” I sent them the link and opened it myself and waited for them.
Part III
It didn’t take long for the two bald-headed faces of my older brothers to appear. Both looked annoyed that I was so abrupt with them. I didn’t care.
Dean, the oldest, spoke first, “Just because you look like Dad doesn’t mean you get to give orders.”
“And yet, you are here.” I deadpanned.
“Look…” Dean began.
I Interrupted quickly, dropping the bomb, “Do I have a sister?”
“What? No,” my middle brother Cal quickly answered. “Whay would you…”
“Cut the bullshit, Cal. Do I have a sister? Do I have a twin?”
The looks on their faces told me volumes. Once again: holy shit.
“I met a woman today,” I calmly said, “who claims to be my-OUR sister. She had just enough conviction and just enough evidence that I think I believe her. She shares my fucking birthday!” Okay, my calm was quickly evaporating.
“I’ll ask again. Do I have a twin goddamn sister?”
Dean finally quietly said, “Yeah. You did. But Mom and Dad said she was stillborn.”
My patience was gone. “What the fuck did Mom and Dad do, Dean?”
“We don’t know, Davey,” Cal said, “We’re just as shocked as you. We…”
“Is this why you were such twats to me growing up,” I asked as an insight hit me. “Did you resent me for living and her not?”
Those two fuckers. They could never hide their feelings. Never hide the truth. Never lie. Their faces showed everything. What a pair of fucking assholes. I cut the call.
I pulled my phone out and dialed Amy’s number.
“Hello,” she answered quickly.
“Hi, Amy. It’s David Drake.”
“Hi David!” I could hear her voice perk up. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so quickly.”
“Yeah,” I said, “I spoke to my brothers. Anyway, I think we should talk some more. There’s an Italian place across the street from where you’re staying. Franks. Meet me there in two hours?”
“Sure. I saw the place when I came in. I’ll see you soon.”
I put my phone down and crossed the hall to my bedroom. Locking the door I quickly stripped down and walked into the ensuite standing shower. The sweat and grim from the train had to go. I had to think.
The events of the afternoon started replaying in my head as I stood under the spray of the shower head Grace had insisted on. It was a full length rain shower and it was so we could both use the shower at the same time. Not that we could ever agree on a water temperature. I liked water hot. She liked water that came from a volcanic lake.
Amy had asked me if I ever felt as if there was something missing. The truth of the matter was that I thought that nearly every single day of my life. Even when Grace was alive and I was as close to happy as someone like me could ever be I felt like there was a big fucking hole inside me. I never understood it. At times I felt ungrateful and ashamed of it. But I did know it was the root and source of my anger.
I thought about Amy’s expressions; so like my own. The way her face scrunched up when she knew sh had to say something uncomfortable. I think I knew right then she was telling the truth.
I thought of how she looked: slim, young, and very pretty. The way the dress she was wearing hugged her breasts and ass (oh yeah, I noticed) was, to reuse a word, amazing.
Uhm..oh shit. I was hard. Hard as fucking steel. I was hard as fucking steel thinking about the body of a woman who was likely my twin sister. What the fuck was wrong with me?
This would not do. I reached for the faucet to turn the shower to cold. As my hand neared the faucet a nasty little bit of my mind said, “Hey perv. At your age and with high blood pressure you shouldn’t waste an erection.”
The voice wasn’t wrong. It continued, “Bet she’s doing the same thing at the motel. You heard how happy she was to hear from you.”
“Woe,” I muttered out loud, “too far.” But that didn’t stop me from grabbing my dick and slowly pumping it.
Grace used to love to corner me in the shower. She’d stroke my cock slowly while she played with her clit. God, how I loved watching her play with herself. I loved listening to her breathing change as she became aroused.
As Grace’s hand would speed up I would try to move in a way to increase pressure but she’d stop me. She loved to be in control. Then, right as our orgasms would be on top of us she’d stop, step out of the shower, and head to the bedroom.
I’d follow Grace a moment later and she was already on the bed without even bothering to towel off. Her legs would be spread wide and her fingers would be slowly pushing in and out of her cunt. She’d look at me with a pout and say, “Is Master going to punish me for being a tease? Is he going to pound my wet, slutty pussy?”
The answer was always yes.
I would slide into Grace as if she was custom made only for me. When we came it was so strong she’d either black out or temporarily lose the ability to speak in English. My God, her face when she orgasmed was divine.
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