It was an awkward conversation, but I could tell that she’d considered those words for longer than the morning. Regretfully, I accepted her command. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I… think I’ve lost myself somewhere along the way, here. I just didn’t want us to go back to being as dirt poor as we were after-…”
“Our dad blew his brains out?” I was shocked to hear her talk so calmly about it. For all I knew, she didn’t know those details, but from the look in her eyes, she seemed almost bored of them already. I begrudgingly nodded. She went on: “Dad was an addict, too. It’s hereditary, you know. Even if I have to tie you down, I’m gonna keep you away from following in his footsteps – you hear?” I hadn’t even considered going down that path, myself. I’d been so dedicated to making ends meet and to stack up my obsessive buffer, that I hadn’t paused to think what I was doing to my sister by neglecting her emotional and social needs. I nodded in acknowledgment of her threat: “Yes, Ma’am.” I pause to smile at the frightening pair of narrow eyes before I continued: “I’ll be around more. It’s gonna be hard – I’m struggling a lot with the guilt. I suppose it’s burnout, really… being alone’s no good.” She reached over the table and paused to hover her thin fingers over mine. I felt her warmth radiate from the nervous fingertips before I closed the distance and considered how odd it felt – how alien my sister’s hand felt in mine. I truly had let things slip.
While I did the dishes, she watched my back with scrutiny and continued her inquisition: “So, you’ve got no friends? There’s nothing you like doing?” I shrugged and continued scrubbing the pan. “No and no.” She scratched her chin ponderously, as if gathering the courage to ask: “And no girlfriend, I take it?” Again, I regretfully shook my head. “How come? You’re a handsome guy and you’re nice. No one’s been interested?” I huffed a bitter scoff of bemusement before informing: “Working with women twenty-four-seven… you hear things. The guys at uni used to joke about how they’d be wading in-…” I stopped to wince as I remembered who my conversation partner was. “- but I quickly realized that stabbing people’s eyes isn’t the sexiest of circumstances.”
When I turned, her mouth hung slightly agape as she looked at me with continued disbelief. “You’re gay?” I hadn’t taken her for someone who’d oppose to that, but I was again quick to shake my head. “No. Just a romantic, I guess. I did go on a date once, though. Ended with a disaster.”
She closed her mouth and stopped gawking before snapping her fingers in her version of a eureka-moment. “It’s gonna be hard for you to make a friend outside of a common interest… so how about installing a dating-app? I’ll help you match – it’ll be fun. Brother-sister-bonding-time!” I paused, blinked and retorted: “Fooling someone into my bed counts for brother-sister-bonding-time? Damn, I should’ve burnt out years ago.” I didn’t even realize what I was saying until it was too late. My cheeks were aflame with heat and flush as I bit my tongue and heard her laugh: “I didn’t say anything about that, Romeo! But I’m glad you got your priorities straight. So, what happened last time?”
I sighed and lowered my head in defeat, letting my hands soak in the lukewarm water. “I couldn’t shut up about work all evening. We’d had this crazy adenovirus infection – the patients literally covered the walls in sh-”
“Got it, got it, dear brother. Wow… you really are hopeless…” She whistled, but I found the amusement somewhat comforting. I’d long since accepted that I’d have to live vicariously through my sister’s social media updates when she’d procreate at some point.
“How about you? Friends? Boyfriend? Hobbies outside of your writing?” She was quick to respond to that one with a decisive: “No. No. No. I don’t need any other friends than my characters, but you don’t even have them.” I turned around to frown at her, only to find that her lips were turned upwards in a smirk of superiority. She rose up from her chair and confidently crossed her arms, suggesting: “I’ve got a proposition, then. You obviously need training and a confidence boost, so hear me out.”
Her confidence had quickly washed away about two sentences into her suggestion. From holding her fists at her hips and pushing out her supple chest, she’d quickly devolved into a nervous wreck twiddling her fingers with a hunched back, a profuse sweat and repeated clearing of her throat. Her cheeks were as red as fire as she nervously finished voicing her proposal. She fell silent and, in a flash of brotherly maliciousness I pondered whether I should’ve tortured her more… but I stayed silent and finally spoke: “Sure. A practice-date sounds fun.” She seemed astounded. Shocked. Rearing her head, she croaked: “Y-you… want to?” I shrugged. “Of course. By the looks of it, you need it as much as I do, because we’re both obviously emotionally immature. You’re a mess.” Finally, her nervosity seemed to wash away and a semblance of her regular pallor returned to her gaunt cheeks. “Ouch. But point taken… I’d have expected some protests, to be honest. I’d even prepared a backup plan in case you’d refuse.” I reared my head.
“Why would I refuse?” She looked at me as if trying to see whether I was joking. “I just figured you’d have a problem lugging your sister around all evening. Maybe you’d be scared other people would find it offensive or something – I don’t know how your brain works.” I had to laugh as I wiped my hands and took a step closer to look at her flushed, adorable cheeks. “You’ve suggested we have some bonding-time while agreeing to give me some dating-advice – it sounds like fun. And why would the others find it offensive? All they’d see was me with a beautiful girl – that’s only good for my reputation, right?”
It was odd how natural conversation flowed between us – the estranged siblings. But it felt natural to talk to her about these things, even if it had been years since we last had a conversation. She smiled, flushed a deeper shade of purple and gleamed up at me: “It’s settled, then. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date to get ready for… and you…” She reached a hand out to rub my scruffy chin. “Had better get rid of whatever this is.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but clad in my navy blue blazer, my black shirt and dress pants, I tripped in place with an odd sense of nervousness. I hadn’t eaten in public since I was still a student and sharing the experience with my one social contact felt… interesting. But more interesting still was the ceremonious clearing of my sister’s throat as she gracefully toyed down the stairs in a heart-crushing fine, black dress. She’d tied her hair up like I hadn’t seen her before – with sticks protruding from an elaborate bundle. Moreover, her eyes seemed so much more alive than earlier – her black mascara highlighting the blue of her irises. My eyes naturally traversed her body, to the shape of her hips until they inevitably saw the slight cleavage visible in the low cut of her chest. All she lacked were a pair of black gloves and the girl could’ve sung at a 1960s smoky night-club… but he’d heard her sing and was grateful that would not be happening. She motioned for her long, thin neck and asked: “So? Is your date acceptable for this evening?” I had to laugh and raised my hand to gesture picking up my lower jaw. “Christ almighty, I’m not sure how I’m gonna deal with all the boys oogling my date all night – let alone my sister.” She wore shiny shoes with slightly elevated heels that brought even more length to her long legs. She puffed her chest out and said: “Well, tonight they’re one and the same. I suppose I’ll feel the same way when all the girls glare you up and down.” She clicked her heels over towards me and slapped some lint away from the neck of my shirt with a smile. “You really need to eat more, Josh. You’re withering away in there.” Naturally, I would be no less rude and I found myself poking her narrow waist and retorted: “Said the blind to the blind. Let’s work on that tonight. Time to bring out the debit-card and buy some actual food for once.” She giggled and lay a soft hand on my shoulder. “Careful, you don’t want to spoil me. If you pick up the cheque on the first date, she’ll have expectations.”
I had to bite back an off-handed comment about men usually having some expectations regardless and led her out to the car, where I gentlemanly opened the door and took the driver’s seat. The drive was undoubtedly one of the best I’d ever had – being able to talk to my sister and hear how a woman would think of my outfit first-hand was an interesting experience and, apparently, a detail a man should never take lightly. She seemed almost ill at ease as I did not veer off towards our town’s only watering hole and headed further to the south, instead, but did not question it. She was far too preoccupied telling me of her latest fantasy story – a story inspired by the pair of us and the rekindling of our sibling bond.
As we drove into the city, she ‘ooo’d a bit, but remained otherwise silent. I informed: “I used to take the bus here for my practical studies… two hours back and forth for eight weeks. Damn am I glad to have this old hunk of junk.” I clapped the steering wheel of our beat-up Volvo and heard her giggle. “I’d suggest getting a new one, but I like it. The back wheel drive is fun.”
She froze as I showed her the place where I’d succeeded in scoring us a table by calling in an old favor from my boss – the wife of the owner. She was more than happy to help me as I told her I had a date, but naturally declined to tell her that this ‘date’ was, in fact, my sister… I wasn’t ready to lose my job just yet. “What the fuuuck…” She mouthed as we arrived inside the fine establishment. I felt her hand tug on my sleeve and heard her whisper: “What is this place? This must cost a fortune!”
I could guarantee that she’d never been to a michelin restaurant – I’d have known, after all. But the look of wonder as she watched the waiters carry themselves with such dignity and class was as charming as could be – a sight to bring new life to my still, cold chest.
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