Family Issues Ch. 03

Such comments require the utmost sincerity and consideration, but I feel that you are worth it. See what I did there in the last sentence? I let go of my ego and chose honesty over sounding cool. I'll even ante up and admit that I might have just done a happy dance after seeing your message pop up.

We share a lot of interests. I too like jogging, science fiction books and classical movies. It also appears that we have similar music taste. I believe that you are a strong woman who knows what she wants. A go getter. Right down my alley, as they say.

So I'll keep it simple and just ask, are you free for a casual and a spontaneous dinner?

Sincerely yours

Dennis'

She didn't know how he perceived her strong, go-getter qualities. Not that she didn't agree with the label, except she tried to paint her online dating profile with softer shades. Maybe it's just a testament to Dennis' intellect that he could read her between the lines? He didn't say anything about her looks or the picture with the eyepatch; he saw through that.

For a short time happiness enveloped her like a bubble. Sadly, Marianne, the Bay Area Acquisitions Manager, insisted on bursting it.

"Sign here, here, here, and here," Marianne slid the document towards Helen.

"I need something new to wear," Helen thought. "Something that sends the right message. Sexy, not slutty, emotionally open, but not desperate."

"Earth to Helen."

"Sorry." Helen signed the document without even looking at it. She reread Dennis' message.

"Alakazim, Alakazam," Marianne lifted the paper, painting an exaggerated arc with her hand. She tapped the paper with her free hand, and the document vanished into thin air. "Did I ever tell you that I worked as a magician when I was in uni?"

"More than once."

"If I'm such pain in your ass, Helen, simply convince William to grant our departments' law team a financial power of attorney. This way I won't have to come over to your place after work, every time we have some trivial bullshit that needs signing."

Helen finally lifted her head from the laptop. "Marianne, my mom left me with very little, but she gave me some sound advices. She said, Helen, never let attorneys have free access to your bank account if you want to sleep well at night."

"That's cold, Helen," the chubby Acquisition Manager winked.

"I have a feeling you'll get over it."

"Depends. What do you have to say about the Destiny Mall investment proposal?"

"It's a lot to chew on. We haven't done anything half as big before."

"No guts no glory."

"What did William had to say about it?" Helen said.

"Nothing much."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that I went straight to you. Sister to sister."

"Because you knew he'll shoot you down." Helen's scar darkened. It always did that when she was angry. "You think I'll go behind his back with something so big? You're really putting too many chips on this futa sisterhood thing."

"He's a dinosaur, Helen, the man has no vision."

"He is still my boss, and yours."

"Everyone knows which VP is gonna take his place when he retires."

"No." Helen said. "Nobody knows. When the time comes then I'll probably be the last choice."

"Come on, Helen, stop pretending!" Marianne gave her a conspiratorial wink. "You've got the board in your pocket."

"Marianne, stop!"

"I'm not suggesting we go behind William's back. I know you, you're straight as an arrow. I just want you to be my wingman on this one. Go through the numbers, help me with the sales' pitch."

"Hmmm..." Helen reread Dennis' message. He left a number at the bottom for her to call.

"Are you reading the fucking investment offer or watching porn?"

"What?" Helen blushed and pressed Alt-Tab, hiding Dennis' message behind the document that she was supposed to be reading.

"That silly grin you have on right now," Marianne snorted.

"What grin?"

"Because I have that kind of a silly grin when I watch homemade porn. Especially when I'm watching one of my own videos conquering a hot young colt's wiggling ass."

"TMI, Marianne. TMI."

Marianne opened Helen's refrigerator without a shred of awkwardness. "You don't mind, do you? I haven't eaten since morning."

Helen shrugged.

The chubby face lit up. "Chicken piccata, nice. And what's that? Risotto? I didn't know you cook, girl."

"I don't."

"Your little sister then?"

"Someone else," Helen went back to the document. She swore she wouldn't touch Kevin's cooking again. Not an easy oath to follow. Marianne placed the chicken and the risotto in the microwave, and the smell of lemon-butter sauce reminded her that she too hadn't eaten since morning.

"So what do you say?" Marianne spoke with her mouth full of risotto. Some rice got stuck on her upper lip. "It's a good offer. We should at least consider."

"Too good. When things look as good as that, they usually hide a stinker, Marianne."

"You're paranoid. It's an opportunity. Take a look at the photos I've sent you. The place is a diamond in the rough."

Helen pretended to recheck the photos and went back to Dennis' message. In her mind she was already sitting cross-legged on a velvety couch in a posh restaurant, sipping a cocktail from a tall glass with colored umbrellas. Dennis was sitting across the table and telling her how pretty she was.

"Earth to Helen?"

"Huh?"

"Are you watching porn again?"

"Stop it, Marianne."

"Did you see the place? It's a real-estate gem."

"It's a dump."

"Not for long. By the way, this stuff is amazing, give my compliments to the chef."

"I will." No, I won't, she thought.

"My doctor told me that I need to start a diet 'cause my blood pressure is off the scales." Marianne thumped her belly and smirked. "Told me I have a slow metabolism, the cheeky git. Slow? My metabolism is a fucking retard," Marianne started laughing, spraying risotto. "You sure you don't want some?"

Helen shook her head.

"Alright. So what do you say?"

"I say we pass," Helen said.

"My analyst team predicts it could triple its value in four years," Marianne covered her mouth and burped. "Sorry. Look at the survey. Look at the predicted ROI report I've sent you. The customer segments. It's a golden opportunity."

"The city council didn't even approve the development plan."

Marianne waved her hand in dismissal. "With Naogen Tokomi at the steering wheel, it's only a matter of time. These guys are bulldozers."

"Naogen Tokomi?" Helen said. "Weren't they connected to that scandal? The one with that futa councillor; the head of the Building Department. What's her face? Rebecca something. You know, that whole business with the illegal escort service?"

"Tabloid garbage." Marianne stuffed her mouth with risotto. "Didn't even get to court."

"Still."

"Hack journalism, nothing more. They tried to pin blackmail on Naogen Tokomi. Said they blackmailed the councillor via the escort service."

"Velvet Boy? Right?" Helen googled the name and came up with nothing.

"Lace Boy. And the same journalist tried to hint that the escort service employs illegal aliens. Total bullshit on both accounts. Trust me on this one, Helen. I know first-hand how Lace Boy run their service. Clean."

"I'll simply pretend you didn't say that, Marianne."

"Fuck that, Helen. Lace Boy is the best escort service this city has to offer. I ordered two of their boys last Friday. One Polish, the other an Algerian. Ivory and ebony. They cost me an arm and a leg, but boy oh boy did I make them earn every cent." Marianne licked her lips. "I can connect you with the right people if you feel like giving it a try."

"You know, Marianne, there's enough heat going our way as it is. Most of what futaphobes say about futas is bullshit. But people call us sexual predators, and I'm not saying it is anything but bullshit. However, girls who behave like you don't help much."

"I only behave the way God made me." Marianne tapped her forehead, "with parts of both man and woman and the libido of ten bulls."

"Bullshit!"

"You think you're different, Helen?"

"I think you're different. The whole 'God made me' is just an excuse for not taking responsibility."

"All I'm saying, chica, is that all that repressed need can't be good for you. You can lie to yourself all you want that you're different than me, but one day you might-" Marianne placed her hand over her crotch and then lifted it making explosion sounds.

"Very graphic. Thanks."

"I'll leave you Lace Boy's business card in case you change your mind. Tell the person who picks the call that it was I who sent you."

"Keep your card."

"Whatever, Helen, if you -. Oh, hello beautiful," Marianne turned and stared, her black eyes as big as plates, at Kevin who stood at the kitchen's entrance.

"Hi, I'm Kevin." He put down the brown grocery bags he carried and reached out his hand for a shake.

"Enchanté," Marianne took the offered hand and kissed its back. "Did it hurt?"

"Sorry?" Kevin said.

"When you fell from heaven."

"Did you just call me Satan?"

Marianne smiled at Kevin. The same smile an orca gives when it sees a baby seal on its first swim. "I'll call you whatever you want me to call you."

"In that case let me take you ten seconds back in time to when I said my name is Kevin."

"Kevin?"

"Bingo."

"What's in the bags, Kevin?"

"Everything that I need to make New Orleans Red Beans and Rice with Pickled Peppers, and Chicken-and-Sausage Gumbo."

"Are you from Louisiana?"

"Helen and Diana's mother is originally from New Orleans. Brion is a Creole name." He gave Helen one quick, concerned look. "I thought I'd go for a Creole theme this week."

"Oh, so I have you to thank for the risotto and the piccata." Marianne said.

"Liked it?"

"Depends. Am I getting a treat for dessert?" She licked her upper lip.

"Are we talking about food?"

"What do you think?"

"I think... I think I left a bag downstairs. Was a pleasure, Mrs....?"

"Anderson, but if you call me anything else than Marianne then I'll pout."

Marianne started laughing as soon as Kevin left. "You... You... You little rascal you." She waved her finger at Helen. "I totally bought your little futa image speech. Wow. Where the-?"

"He's Diana's."

"What do you mean Diana's? He's her boyfriend?"

Helen started nodding but then in a moment of vindictiveness said, "He's a prostitute."

"What?"

"An escort boy."

"Girl, I know what an escort boy means. They come for an hour, and they never cook jack shit."

"It's the full boyfriend experience service."

Marianne's eyebrows rose twice. "I wanna sign in."

"Look, about the investment offer, I think-"

"Don't change the subject on me, Chica. Diana's eh? Are you gonna tell me you've never dipped your stick in that perfect thing? Because if you do, I'll call you a liar."

Helen shrugged. "Believe what you like."

"Fuck me. What a perfect little angel, eh? I'm still shivering. Tell Diana when she's fed up with him that I'm next in line. I don't care how much his service costs."

--------------------------

Someone knocked gently on Helen's bedroom door. Since Diana never knocked, by elimination it left only the most hated creature in the world, which in alignment with the gods' twisted humor happened to live in the same apartment as she did.

"Go away!"

"Can I come in, Helen?"

"No!"

"You're not decent?"

"None of your fucking business!"

"I want to come in."

"Go away, Kevin!"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine! Stay there!"

"Still here," Kevin said a minute later. "I'm not going to move until you open."

Helen opened the door and stood above him wearing one of her many grey tank tops, and grey leggings. Her green eye shot lightning. "What do you want, Kevin?"

"To apologize."

"Go ahead," her lower lip trembled.

"I'm sorry-"

"Sure. No problem." She slammed the door in his face.

"Helen, I'm not going anywhere. Can't we talk like two adults?"

"Go away!" She shouted.

"I made you a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies."

"What do I need your stupid cookies for?"

"Come on, Helen. You're the only one who's been eating them. Diana doesn't like them, and I'm no chocolate chip fan either. You know what? Fuck that; I'm coming in."

Kevin pushed the door; he was holding a large cookie jar in front of him like a shield. It was the first time that he was in her room and he looked around bewildered. He was astounded at the contrast between the Spartan military precision of this bedroom to Diana's teenager-like chaos.

He stopped for a second and stared at the small framed photograph of her platoon.

Helen stood up, her hands folded over her chest, and snarled. "You've got some nerve. Get out before I kick you out."

"You're not going to kick me out."

"Really? You're extremely close to getting punched in the face."

"You're not going to punch me either."

"You seem very sure."

He placed the cookies on the decorated desk near the photograph. "I read your letters, Helen. You don't punch people in the face."

"You came here to gloat?"

"I came to apologize."

"Well?"

"Can I sit down?"

"No!"

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "I started unpacking your sister's boxes and found your letters, Helen. I knew the moment I started reading them that I shouldn't."

"And yet you did."

"And you don't know how bad I feel that I hurt you. I would never have read the letters had I suspected that they were yours."

"Because you're living in the house with an ex-marine," her beautiful face tightened and her lower lip trembled. "You picked up letters found in that ex-marine's house carrying the Marine Corps signature, and you couldn't make that mental leap. You are a lot of things, Kevin. An idiot isn't one of them."

"It never even crossed my mind that you could be Valkyrie," he said.

"Are you lying to my face right now?"

"It never crossed my mind because you hide Valkyrie so well," Kevin's face showed distress and Helen couldn't guess if it was fear or genuine regret.

"Your... You're..." he waved his hand, circling his face, "it's just a mask. Most people wear them, but you wear it so well. I'm so sorry, Helen."

"When I saw my letters open on your desk, Kevin, do you have any idea how I felt?"

Kevin nodded. "You felt like I abused you. Mentally, I mean."

Helen stared at him, eye round, because of his choice of words. She didn't disagree. "Humiliated."

"I know, and I'm so sorry. But you know what? There was nothing shameful or humiliating about them. Some folks in them did shameful things and needed to feel ashamed. Not you."

She stared at him and said nothing.

"The moment that I started reading them, I knew that I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop reading."

"Why?"

"Because they were amazing. I read your letters three times. I was rooting for Valkyrie because she reminded me of Hamlet."

"Hamlet?"

He nodded. "It was wrong of me to barge like an asshole into your private thoughts, but I can't undo what I did. If it helps, I'll never say anything to anyone."

Helen closed her eye, made a fist, counted to five and opened it again. "I wish that I could believe you, Kevin. But you're always saying you're not this or that, and then you do the exact opposite. You didn't want to read my private thoughts, yet you did. You said you always pay your debts, and yet you didn't pay rent for five months."

"Which is what I'm doing right now," he said softly. "Do you think it is easy, living with Diana? You know it's not. Try living in the same room with her for a week. But I'm trying to be an adult and own my shit, just like you said."

"Kevin-"

"You know what? You're right. You shouldn't be afraid of me spilling your secrets." His voice trembled. "We need a balance of terror, like... like in the cold war. No, no... That was a shitty choice of words. I don't want to be at war with you no more, Helen. We need an equilibrium." He stood tall and nodded. "I... I don't know Krav Maga," he said.

"No shit."

"I learned the basics from an Israeli kid whose parents had been on a sabbatical in the states. I was bullied a lot in junior school and needed leverage. But other than a stupid pose," he shrugged.

"That pose won't fool anyone who is not totally clueless."

"Very few people know Krav Maga."

"I've practiced Krav Maga for six years, Kevin."

"Okay. Alright. So, something else." He closed his eyes and then opened them. His mouth contorted, as if he was tasting a bad memory. "I had a girlfriend in high school. A hottie. She's the highlight of my relationship CV. She's the only girlfriend in my relationship CV. Everyone who knows me knows about her."

"A hot girlfriend," Helen smirked. "That's something to feel embarrassed about?"

"Except that she wasn't."

"Wasn't what?"

"My girlfriend. The teacher hooked me up with Olga because she was new, and needed help. I wasn't her boyfriend; I was her bitch. I did all her homework for her; I carried her bag to school. I bought her presents so that she'd feel special. I was madly in love with her. I even found the balls to ask her to be my girlfriend. She thought about it for like six months, before she said yes." He shook his head. "What an idiot."

"Why an idiot?"

"Because I came to her house one evening after she said yes, and she was in bed with Tony Rubi. The captain of the basketball team."

"Ouch," Helen's tone softened.

"Yeah, ouch. After Olga moved back to Russia, I lied to everyone in school and told them that Olga and I had been together and that we did the nasty day and night. I was so convincing that it even made me semi-popular for like five minutes. My imaginary sex with her was very impressive."

"She was your girlfriend, even for a little while," Helen said. "So I think the lie wasn't that big."

"You think? We never even kissed. You wanna guess which girl gave me my first kiss? It's not hard. She lives down the hallway, and she's your sister. Do you want to guess which is the only girl who ever told me she loved me? It's the same girl from down the hall. How pathetic is that?"

"It's not pathetic, Kevin."

"Pretty much, considering that your sister doesn't even know what it means. Diana loves Diana only, Helen."

Helen didn't say anything. She tried to think of something that might contradict Kevin, and couldn't.

"Now you know something about me that nobody does. I even lied to Diana about Olga. Everyone's got secrets they wish that nobody ever knew. Olga hurt me so bad I couldn't find the strength to get out of bed for a month."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Kevin," she said in a tender voice.

"That makes two of us. Everyone's got low points. It doesn't make us shitty people. I think it makes us human. Olga was a bitch. I know that now. She never even considered me as boyfriend material because Tony Rubi played basketball and I had to stand on my tiptoes if I wanted the top of my head to reach his shoulder. She toyed with me because I was desperate and because she could. But you know what? Fuck her and fuck your spineless Scott Pierce and fuck futaphobe Sergeant Robert and all the other racists, bigots, homophobes, futaphobes, transphobes and assholes in this world. There is someone out there waiting for me. And when I find her she'll say she loves me and she'll mean it, and she'll lie and say that I'm her big man even though I'm scratching five feet four."

"I think you're right." She said softly, while she wondered if there was someone out there waiting for her too.

"I know I'm right." He nodded, but he didn't sound convinced. At that moment she recognized her own fears and insecurities, mirrored on his handsome face. Her heart went out to him.

"I'm sorry that I read your letters, Helen. I really am."

Helen nodded.

"Can we stop being enemies, now?"

She sighed and took her photograph off the shelf. "This is me," she pointed at the tall stunning woman in uniform. She had two green tiger eyes, cropped blonde fuzz, no scars, and she was smiling. "This goofy looking kid was Lance." She pointed at a fair-haired marine with a bewildered smile.