Folie à Deux

"Yuh huh," she cried.

"Not ones that you brought around and were excited to introduce."

My sister laughed morbidly as she dropped her empty bottle in the recycling bin and reached into the fridge for her third. "Look, I'm..." She looked down as she twisted off the cap. "I mean, maybe? I really never thought about it, and I mean that I really never thought about it. I've always just, you know, been waiting for the right guy to come along. I didn't think about it that way, and you know, I'm just... still looking for a good one."

"Good men are a dying breed," I said, as I finished scouring the cabinet doors and linoleum floor.

"I tell you what, though. I am sick of it not being my turn. I mean, that wedding tonight was... the last straw. Jess was just about the last of my single friends from when we were kids."

"I almost feel silly asking this. Do you date much?"

Natalie rolled her shoulders noncommittally. "Not as much. I'm on Tindr sometimes, swiping around to see who'll pay me a compliment, but it never seems to work out like I want it to."

"Well what are you looking for?"

"Someone tall," she said, eyes distant as she stared through the floor. "I can't ever wear heels to first dates in case I'm taller than them."

"Why does that matter?"

Her eyes focused quickly on me. "You have no idea. I've never seen a guy lose his interest and confidence so fast as those few moments between the first time he sees me and when I get close enough for him to realize he's shorter than I am. It's ludicrous."

"Really?"

Natalie nodded solemnly. "Suddenly they can't wait to be anywhere but there."

"That's easily the most despicable, pathetic thing I've heard all day, and I checked Twitter four times this afternoon."

Natalie's burst of laughter was refreshing, but it didn't last. "Tall. Smart. Can fix things. Is confident." She took another sip and gestured wildly with her free hand. "Move that to the front of the list. 'Is Confident' tops everything else."

"Try not to take this the wrong way, but you're describing Dad."

Natalie's face lost several shades of color very quickly. "What the hell, Jay."

"I'm sorry," I said, backpedalling quickly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"How else could you have meant it than 'I want to have sex with my dad'?"

"We were joking," I pled. "I meant it like a joke because Dad is such an asshole."

She stared at me for several seconds, breathing slowly. "You know Felicia was exactly like Mom, right?"

"What? No she wasn't."

Natalie shifted against the counter, balancing on one elbow, and counted off on her fingers. "Short. Curvy. Similar hair."

"They look... completely different."

"Treated you like an idiot. Kept you in a state of constantly jumping through hoops for their approval. Which you never really got, on either count.

"Okay," I said.

"They both controlled you."

"Okay!" I held my hands up. "I surrender!"

Natalie folded her arms across her chest and shook her head.

"Look, I'm sorry I said that about Dad, okay?"

She nodded. "For a minute there, we were almost getting along really great."

"Can't have that."

"That would be like... " She twisted her lips and blinked. "I can't think of a good pop culture reference."

"...Crossing the streams?"

"Yes!" she said. "That would be bad."

I tipped my bottle back, finally emptying my first beer. Natalie smiled weakly as she traded me a full one for the empty bottle, and tossed the empty in the bin.

"You know," she said, and then paused. "Now I can't stop thinking about it. Putting aside, for a moment, whether that's good or bad, am I looking for someone just like Dad?"

"All the boyfriends I can think of were over six foot. I can't remember their names, but the two blond ones did construction, right?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Not to throw more fuel on the fire, but when you bought this house with the intention of fixing it up, I always thought that was really a ploy to get Dad to come over a lot."

Natalie took a sip and held it in her mouth for several seconds while she looked around. "Whenever he used to come over, he'd give me these, like, lessons on electricians codes, and safety hazards, and in my head I was just like 'Dad, maybe hook up the damn thermostat already. I've got shit to do'."

"He's such an asshole."

"I almost hate this house, you know."

"What?"

Natalie nodded.

"It's beautiful," I said. "I mean, I remember what it was like, and you've really cleaned it up."

"Yeah, but the..." She paused to take a drink. "The money I've spent, it... It feels like I'm drowning alone here sometimes."

Empathy drove me toward her, and Natalie fell into a long, warm hug.

"I know me being alone isn't the house's fault, but it's not like I'm really cleaning up at Tanner's."

"Does it help if I point out that you're, like, a freakishly good bartender?"

"Not really," she grumped, and then laid her head on my shoulder. "I think about selling this place all the time, but the idea of moving in with Mom is repulsive, and moving in with Dad... I mean... is Claire three years older than me, or four?"

"She's two years older than me," I said, backing away and leaning against the kitchen counter again, "so four above you."

Natalie shivered in disgust. "I try not to think about it."

"Well, for what it's worth, I really hope you don't sell this place."

"Thanks. That's why I was so excited when you called earlier."

"To have someone else in the house?"

"I was hoping that the reception might take care of that" —she paused, for dramatic effect— "but I was just kidding myself on that score."

"Oh I didn't even think of that."

"Don't worry," she said. "I would have made any prospective 'him' pay for a hotel room to get with all of this." She smirked as she gestured toward herself, angling her hips sharply.

"They all missed out."

Natalie nodded, and when she held out her bottle with the neck extended toward me, I clinked mine against hers with conviction.

"Did you know Mom's tits are fake now?"

It was my turn for a spit take.

"She showed them to me," she said with a smirk. "Before and after. She's so proud of them."

I coughed, and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. "I mean, yes, I knew."

"Ew!"

"What? No. Don't you ew me. It was impossible to miss. Fake breasts sit different."

Natalie's lips turned sourly. "Don't call them breasts. It's so... clinical."

"They're all high, and they're way too big for her, and she's changed the way she's dressing to show 'em off all the time."

"You are, like hyper-aware of Mom's tits."

"That's not fair! No heterosexual man could miss those things, whether or not that man is related to her by blood!"

"And what, women can't notice tits?"

I sighed and slumped. "You're right. Carte blanche. They're impossible to avoid, regardless of gender."

"You think they're too big?"

"Way too big," I said, and there was the slightest tingle on the back of my neck as I took another sip of beer.

"Felicia was pretty chesty, and they're about the same size."

"Come on," I groaned. "Don't..."

Natalie grinned, her eyebrows arched sharply.

"You're just gonna let me hang on that one, huh."

"Yuuup."

"Felicia... yeah..." I shook my head and shrugged. "I... Fine. I was kind of dazzled by her breasts when we first got together."

"Please stop calling them that."

"No, if we're going to have a conversation about Mom and Felicia's breasts, then it's gonna be uncomfortable for both of us."

She narrowed her eyes. "Fine, let's just—"

"Oh no," I said. "Now we're gonna talk about it."

"Please don't."

"I think at the time, I was excited by the idea of being with a woman who had big breasts—"

Natalie groaned and laughed at the same time.

"—but I can tell you now that what I really liked was the way she was confident with how she looked. Like she didn't try to hide them and she didn't shove them in everyone's faces. She wasn't falling out of her top."

"If you love 'em so much," she shouted, "why don't you marry 'em?"

"Touche," I said, chuckling.

Natalie laughed and shook her head. "That was terrible. Why did I say that?"

"Win at all costs."

"You know, when we used to fight, when we were little, there was never any winning. We were usually both crying, sometimes one of us bleeding, and both of us in trouble."

"Sometimes bleeding?"

Natalie grinned sheepishly, and tucked her lips inside of her mouth.

"I still have teeth marks," I said, grabbing my right sleeve and pulling it up my forearm.

"Oh shut up."

I smiled and leaned back. "At this point, I've seen enough breasts—"

"Yeesh," she cut in.

"I've seen enough tits that... they should be..." I held out my hand and curled my fingers. "Just a little bit smaller than that."

"That's funny," she said, "because Mom thinks I need implants too. She says mine are too small."

I looked down, below my sister's chin, and my ears were filled with a kind of static. Her dress had a high neck, covering her torso almost completely while baring her arms at the shoulders. It had a high waist, just at the bottom of her ribs, and while the dress mapped her rather tightly from there down, showing off her hips and thighs, it was less contouring above. I swallowed, brow furrowing as I tried to walk a line between guessing how large my sister's breasts were, for the sake of refuting our mother, without leering.

Natalie reached across the front of her dress, slipped her arm into the hole on the side of her dress, and gave it a tug across her chest. The red fabric stretched more than I expected it to, exposing her right breast almost completely. The white noise in my ears became deafening.

The moment passed quickly, even though it had felt like much longer, and Natalie stuck her tongue out at me.

"You have... like... the most perfect tit I've ever seen?"

My sister burst into laughter, beaming, and I felt the knot in my stomach release. I had both blundered into, and through, a minefield, and it was only in retrospect that I knew either.

"Seriously. Do not get implants. You don't need them."

"Thank you," she said, straightening a little bit extra while still beaming.

"Just... wow."

"Okay," she said. "Okay."

"I'm not trying to make it weird, I promise, but like..." I blinked, trying really hard not to look back at her chest.

"Here."

My skin flushed with color as Natalie set down her beer, reached behind her neck, and unbuttoned the top of her dress. She stood up tall, back slightly arched, as she pulled down the top of her dress and let the loose-fitting upper part lay limp in her hands. Her breasts were magnificent. Just the slightest hint of a swelling of flesh at the bottom. A roundness. Nipples of a pale red, like rubber, that almost perfectly matched the color of her lips. Her skin was like marble.

"You're welcome," she said, smiling as she put her top back in place.

"I... I didn't..."

She laughed, head hung down as she fumbled with the button in back.

"I..."

"That was worth it just for the look on your face!"

I brought the bottle to my lips and held it there, without drinking, for several seconds, if only to stop myself from babbling.

"You know what?" she said. "I don't think I've ever flashed anyone before."

I finally took a sip, and swallowed. "You could bring peace to the Middle East with those."

"Thank you," she said, dipping one shoulder and raising the other. "I grew them myself."

"Jesus," I said softly. "They're like..."

"Oh stop."

There was something in the way she rolled her eyes.

"Do you not get a lot of 'compliments' on your br-uh... tits?"

"Every woman gets lots of compliments on her tits."

"And how many of those," I said, feeling like I was onto something, "did you put any stock in?"

Natalie took a long sip of her beer and peered at me over the bottle.

"Okay, so none? Or basically none?"

"Basically none."

"You don't think they were being genuine? Any of them?"

"Again," she said with a coy smile. "Basically none."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Most of the time, it's just a feeling. Like it's only being given to achieve a specific goal."

"To butter you up."

"Exactly. I don't trust ulterior motives."

"You know, Dad basically never gave out compliments."

"I'm gonna throw this beer at you in a minute," she said, smiling and glaring at the same time, and there was just the slightest sway in her hand as she gestured toward me.

"I mean, I don't know how it was for you, but I can't remember him ever saying anything nice about, say, my curveball. Just ways to improve it."

Natalie shook her head and leaned back. "Dad just showed it differently. He'd do it with a smile, or a nod. It was subtle, but it was there."

"You totally have a thing for Dad," I said at the exact same speed at which my brain was thinking it. It was a revelation.

"Mmm-mmm," she said, shaking her head with a mouthful of beer. "Glass houses."

"You know what? Fine. I'll say it. When we were dating, Felicia was exactly like Mom. I mean, I haven't spent a lot of time parsing this, but I think you're right. She acted just like I expected the woman in a relationship to act, and that has... that has everything to do with the example Mom set for me."

Natalie stared at me, bug-eyed and open mouthed.

"I'll own that. I expected to marry someone exactly like her and get treated like Dad did. It doesn't mean I'm actively trying to get Mom between the sheets, but sure! She influenced my... my..."

"Expectations?"

"Yes!" I gasped.

She cocked her head, the tip of her tongue running along her lips. "That is some professional grade self-awareness."

"Yeah, it... it kind of felt good to say out loud." I leaned back and took a deep breath, and almost missed it when Natalie again reached behind her neck and unbuttoned her top.

"Here," she said. "You earned this."

"Www... uh... "

"I mean, they're perfect right?"

"I... certainly think so?"

"Then they're a pretty appropriate reward for..."

"What?"

Natalie's jaw slowly sank lower and lower. "Do you have a boner right now?" The clasp of her dress fell from her hand, falling loosely around her waist, as she pointed toward me in child-like glee. "You have a boner right now!"

"What?" I shrieked, trying as casually as possible to let the bottle rest against the top of my left thigh in such a way as to hide the swelling within my jeans that I hadn't been conscious of until exactly that moment.

"Okay," she said, pointing excitedly. "Now see, that is a compliment."

"What?"

"Words are easy, but that?" she said, stabbing an accusatory finger at my groin with a manic grin. "That is proof. That is tangible proof. You like my boobs."

"Well yeah," I said, squirming. "That's what I said!"

"That is an impressive bulge, by the way." She gave me a devilish grin as she tipped her bottle back and swallowed the last of it.

"Come on, that's—"

"Oh, so you can stare at my tits, but I can't appreciate the shape of your cock through your pants?"

"You can put your top up at any time, by the way."

She looked down for a moment, blinking as if she'd forgotten she was still bared, and after a moment of reflection she shrugged. "No. You know what? I'm comfortable like this."

"You're just gonna leave your tits out."

She folded her arms across her chest, just below her breasts, and smirked confidently. And with just the slightest unsteadiness. Her nipples were hard. I could see pebbling around the edges of her reddish circles.

"You've never flashed anyone in your entire life, and now you're just going to go full-on topless?"

"At this point, I'm more interested in the waiting to see when that bulge is going to stop growing."

"Just so we're all on the same page, this is the most surreal conversation that I've ever had."

Natalie laughed, and it was such a pure peal of joy.

"In my sister's kitchen, while she's topless, drinking beer, and staring at my crotch, while we discuss my Oedipal Complex."

"Hey, don't leave me out of that. Apparently, I've got a raging... whats-it... Electra! Yes!"

"I would never deny you of the crosses you bear."

Natalie pursed her lips and exhaled slowly. "You know, you even kind of look like him."

"Who?"

"Dad."

My skin prickled, like a cool breeze blowing through a warm room.

"I mean, duh, we have their genes, but you look a lot like him."

"I'm not nearly as tall as he is."

"No," she said, squinting slightly, "but you're tall enough. And you're funny."

Natalie put her beer down on the counter, and the sound of the glass settling against her countertop as she shifted her weight was such a reality check. Like up until that moment, I'd been a part of the flow of events. I hadn't seen, or wanted to see, what direction we were heading in. Now I had my head up. Now I could see. I could see the way Natalie was looking at me.

"You're really funny."

"Well thank you," I said, my mouth suddenly very dry.

I had no idea at what point she'd shed the strappy heels she'd worn out the door earlier that afternoon, but she planted each bare foot deliberately in front of the other as she moved across the kitchen. "Move that to the top of the list."

"What list?"

"You know what list."

"Natalie, I—"

Her hands came to rest on my hips as she moved in front of me, and my throat closed. I clutched the beer tightly in my hands, holding it between us like some kind of shield, but she seemed completely at ease. In control. Unphased by my reluctance. She took my hand by the wrist and twisted it, drawing it to her breast.

"Do you feel that?" she said, pitching her voice much lower. "Do you feel how hard the skin is?"

"Yes," I said, blinking quickly. Her nipples were very hard. The tips of them did not extend very far, but they were unyielding against my skin.

"Good. I can see how hard you are from across the room, and I'd have hated it if you didn't know you were affecting me the same way."

"Holy shit," I whispered.

"Of course, it's not like I didn't already know."

I stared into her eyes and had such a feeling of being trapped. Not physically. Not stuck. More like she could see three steps ahead of me. "Didn't know what?" I asked.

"Seneca Lake."

I swallowed hard, knowing immediately and trying desperately to hide it.

"When we were on vacation. First time I ever wore a bikini."

"I... I don't know..." I shook my head slowly.

She gave a husky chuckle, stepping in a little closer. "You may not remember remember the way you... didn't want to stand up... or get out of the water... every time I got close to you, but that bathing suit you were wearing did nothing to hide how you felt. It was just an oversized pair of boxers."

"Yeah, I don't..." I did.

"That's okay," she said, poking the tip of her canine with her tongue. "I'd be surprised if you weren't repressing being attracted to your little sister."

"Holy shit."

She chuckled again, and I don't think I'd ever heard a sexier sound in my entire life. Every single molecule of air exited my body.

"I mean, I'm pretty much the ultimate girl you can't have, right?"

"That's um..." I swallowed, fighting desperately to get my body to behave. "That's—"

"That's the stuff of fantasy."

"Yeah," I said hoarsely.

She leaned in even closer, and I inhaled sharply. Pressure. Her body against mine. I didn't dare look down to see which part of her was pressed against which part of me.

"That was the first time I was really aware of my sexuality. I only bought that bikini because Adina Jenkins had one, and because Mom didn't want me to have it. When you reacted, it was..." She trailed off, and bit her lip gently. Pearl white burrowing into bright red. "It was different. Like I suddenly understood what it meant to expose some flesh."