Vicky & Me: Thicker Than Water

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Two siblings find a way to cope with their childhood rivalry.
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Author: Early 20s, male, USA, single, straight, handsome (or so they say). Getting my life started. Doing this for kicks.

Experimenting with the taboo. Let me know in the comments what you think. Should I do a second one?

Hope you enjoy.

Cheers.

___

The ride home. The dreadful ride home.

As he sat in the back of a car, Mike constructed several scenarios as to how coming home was going to go. The underlying assumption was that his parents weren't going to be very cheerful about it. Maybe, though, if he could beat his sister home, they would appreciate him a little more. Because he knew that, if his sister beat him home, he would remain the afterthought he'd become ever since the two were adolescents.

Big sister. Victoria. The winner. The champion. Number one. She would beat him home, he determined. She always beat him.

She beat him at life. She even beat him at birth. And it wasn't like they were twins, mere minutes apart: Victoria came a full year before him. Even in birth she beat him by a landslide. She'd probably end up beating him at death, too. Whatever that entailed.

"Hey, where you comin' from, man (if you don't mind me asking)?" asked the driver as he pulled out of the airport.

"College." he answered dryly, still wallowing in his dread.

"Nice. End of the semester, huh?"

"Yep."

"So you lookin' forward to finally comin' home? Seein' your people and all that?"

Mike couldn't even lie. "No, not really."

"Damn, man. It's like that?"

"You bet."

"Sorry to hear that."

"So am I."

__

Mike's heart rate picked up as the family estate came into view. He tried to keep it under control, taking a deep breath in and out. But his heart pounded all the same.

He kept thinking about how Senior would glance right through him, his firm judgment piercing his son's heart like a hot knife through butter. Maybe Victoria would be there too, sitting right next to him, echoing him (as she always did).

"You got a really nice house. Probably the best I ever seen." remarked the driver. "At least you got something nice to come home to."

Mike ignored his comment as they pulled into the driveway. "Hey, you think you could help me bring my stuff to the front door? I'll tip you extra through the app."

The driver glanced at his clock for a second, as if to imply he might not be able to. "You know what, man? Sure." he finally answered after a few seconds. "I'll help you out."

"Thanks."

__

Mike waved the driver off as he pulled out of the estate. He waited until he couldn't see the car anymore, taking his time to get into the house. He turned around slowly and fetched his keys.

The chill he'd been expecting hit him as he flung the door open. Senior always liked his house cold, even in the winter. "Cold keeps a man uncomfortable." he would tell Mike. "Uncomfortable and hungry."

As he dragged his suitcases into the foyer, he could hear activity deeper in the house. It was probably the kitchen, he thought. He knew Senior would be there, sipping his coffee in the breakfast nook and reading the weekly paper. That was his Saturday morning ritual. But why would anyone be cooking? Verena always left Friday nights.

Verena walked into the foyer with a wide smile on her face. "Junior!" she called out in her Creole accent, moving in for a hug.

"Nanny!" Mike lit up a bit when he saw Verena, meeting her halfway and embracing her. As his real mother was always at work, Verena was the closest thing to a mother-figure he'd had.

Verena was an immigrant from St. Lucia. She'd been Mike's nanny since he could walk, and, much unlike his parents, she always treated him with affection. Because he couldn't confide in his parents, or his sister, he would often confide in her.

"Look at you!" she started, marveling at how much Mike had changed in a semester. You look so strong!" she said, doting on the boy. "I bet the ladies can't resist you." She wasn't lying. He'd started working out, and the ladies did take note.

"Well, I don't know about all that." he replied shyly. "I'm sure the guys are still tripping over each other for you, though."

"Oh, stop it." she replied, waving him off with a smile.

"Why are you here on a Saturday?" he asked, changing gears. "You have your own family to look after, don't you?"

"Your father wanted me to make dinner. You both came back today."

A formal dinner on the first day back? That was going to be awful, Mike thought.

"Oh, okay." he finished neutrally, hiding his distaste. "What are you making?" he asked.

"Your sister's favorite." she answered with a frown. Verena was very aware of the dynamic of the house. She didn't like it, and she loved Mike, but she wouldn't complain to her employers. After all, they had used their connections to fast-track Verena's citizenship.

"Of course you are. I'm not sure why I asked." he replied with a dejected smile. "Is she here?"

"She's upstairs."

"Of course she is."

"Come and see your father." Verena commanded, turning around to walk back into the kitchen.

"But my stuff..." complained Mike, looking to delay the inevitable reunion.

"Come and see him." she reasserted as she walked back into the kitchen.

Mike's heart sank as he realized he would have to deal with Senior sooner rather than later. He stood there for several seconds, held still by his aversion, until he finally rolled his eyes and took the first step.

Indeed, each step seemed difficult enough; Mike felt like he traveled miles as he approached the kitchen through the main hallway. His heart raced faster as he began to smell the seasonings for the night's dinner. But he didn't stop. The sooner he could get this over with, Mike eventually reasoned, the better.

Mike turned the corner into the kitchen and, of course, quickly found Senior sitting in the breakfast nook, reading his weekly paper, sipping his coffee. Senior must have heard Mike enter, as even Verena turned to look, but he kept his gaze on the newspaper. Mike knew the stubborn man would not even glance at him unless approached. "If you're ever going to approach a man for a favor," Senior would always say, "make sure you're pants are pulled up. Otherwise he'll fuck you."

"Senior." Mike called out as confidently as he could.

He looked up from the paper as if Mike hadn't been standing there for the past five seconds. "Junior." he answered neutrally.

He removed his hands from his coffee mug and put his glasses on.

Junior stood frozen as Senior's eyes glazed over him. This was the judgment part, he figured. He hadn't a clue as to what Senior would think.

"You look... solid." he finally said. Verena smiled and quietly sighed in relief. She'd been expecting something negative, as did Junior.

"Where's Mother?" answered Junior quickly, indirectly communicating that he did not care for Senior's compliment.

"She's in the city, dealing with a big client."

Junior wasn't sure why he even asked the question. Ever since Mother had made partner at a corporate law firm ten years before, her hours seemed to worsen. She spent many weekends at the family's midtown flat, closer to her work. Senior, to contrast, who was a managing director at a major Wall Street bank, seemed to be spending more time at the golf course as the years passed. "As you start to get older," he would tell Junior, "you realize that the major decisions are made away from the office." Junior never really understood why Senior made so much more money than Mother.

"She'll be back for dinner tonight." Senior continued.

"You sure?" asked Junior. It was a combative statement, made to highlight the unreliability of Mother's punctuality for family events.

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't sure. We're having dinner at eight tonight. We'll discuss the progress the two of you are making. Wear something nice." he commanded.

Junior's shoulders dropped. He figured dinner was going to be awful.

"I'm going golfing with some very powerful people this afternoon, and I'm taking your sister with me. I take it you've been practicing your swing?" continued Senior.

"I haven't." answered Junior honestly. He used to hate disappointing Senior, but he didn't care too much anymore.

Senior stared at him emptily for a few moments. He then took his glasses off and returned to his paper. "Go help your sister unpack."

__

Mike was a bit surprised he'd managed as well as he did in that conversation. Senior usually had something negative to say. "Areas of improvement." he would call them. The relief he felt was euphoric.

He took his time bringing his suitcases up to his room. Only after he finished did he go see his sister.

He walked down the hallway to Victoria's room, and knocked.

"It's open!" she exclaimed.

Mike opened the door and walked in to find Victoria. She wore a bra and sweatpants as she processed the many suitcases of clothes and other possessions she had yet to unpack.

"Victoria." said Mike emptily, greeting her.

"Mike." she replied coldly, acknowledging him as she continued to work.

She looked like her usual blue-eyed, brunette self, with the exception that she was a bit more toned than before. She must have gathered Mike was hitting the gym via social media.

"Senior wanted me to help you unpack. Big day today on the golf course?"

"He told you about that?"

"Am I not good enough to even know about it?"

Victoria motioned to speak, but changed her mind. She cleared her throat and lowered her head for a moment.

Mike continued. "I guess helping you unpack is the most I can do."

"I don't need your help."

"Of course you don't, you can do it all on your own. But Senior told me to help. So I'm helping." he finished, walking in and closing the door behind him.

As the two had been living with each other for so long, Mike knew exactly where Victoria put all her stuff, as Victoria knew where Mike put all his stuff.

So he began putting her clothes away as they conversed.

"So I see you've been hitting the gym. Seems like an odd coincidence that you picked up when I did. I guess we're competing with that, too?"

Victoria glanced at him for a second, but didn't respond. She just kept working.

Mike didn't press his remark. He kept at the work as well.

But eventually, he started back up again. "Dad can't see you, you know." continued Mike. "You can put a shirt on. We both know its freezing cold in here."

"I'm not cold." Victoria snapped back.

"You don't have to lie to me. I won't tell on you."

"Mike." replied Victoria as she paused to look at him, indicating with her serious voice that he should stop being combative.

"I'm sorry." he said with a smile. "I couldn't help myself."

Victoria ignored him, returning to her unpacking.

"So, dinner tonight. Wonder how that's going to work, right?" said Mike after a minute of silence.

Victoria remained silent.

Mike continued. "I guess we'll get to hear about all your many accomplishments this semester."

"Mike!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'm seriously going to stop this time."

The two were silent for another minute as they continued to work. Until Mike spoke up.

"But seriously, how was your semester?" he asked.

Victoria looked at him suspiciously, thinking he might try to attack her again.

"It was fine." she finally said. "How was yours?"

"It wasn't as fine as yours I bet. But it was fine enough."

"You know Mike, you don't always have to be so fucking hostile." she responded angrily, stopping her activity.

"Really? But isn't that what you want? Isn't that what you wanted when you made everything we ever did a fucking competition? I mean, I couldn't even take a shit growing up without feeling like I was trailing you on some leaderboard. Now we're supposed to forget about all that, like it's just yesterday's news."

"Mike, you're acting like I was the only one that ever tried to compete! Just because I won more than you did doesn't give you the right to act like it was all on me!"

"You set the example, Victoria! Do you think I wanted to compete with you? I wanted a fucking sister! Not some rival. But you? You fucking enjoyed it, didn't you? Every fucking time you beat me at something, every time you won some new trophy, I'd see that same smile on your face. I'd see you skip to Senior like an addict looking for a fix."

"Don't talk about dad like that!" she responded angrily, ignoring most of what he said.

"Why are you always defending him? Why do you care about his approval so fucking much?"

Victoria was fed up. "Michael. Get the fuck out of my room. Now."

Mike paused for a moment, looking at her. "Yeah, you know what? Fuck you too." he finally said, throwing the neatly folded shirts in his hand at her. He walked out and slammed the door before she could react to him.

The two had been fighting like this for years now. Senior had always encouraged competition between the two. "You bet on the horse that wins." was one of many of his sayings.

Growing up, the two, who were already competitive on their own, responded by competing viciously at all things.

How fast could you ride your bike? How quickly could you swim a lap? How much could you drink? How fast could you drive without getting caught? How many friends could you make in a week? How many As could you get a semester? How much money could you make in a year? Who could play the piano better? Or the violin? Or who could run faster? The list went on and on and on. They would compete when they planned to, and even when they didn't.

Now the two were rivals to the point of being enemies. They were conditioned to suspect each other, disciplined to position themselves in such a way that they would look like winners in the eyes of Senior. That was the only way he would truly acknowledge them, of course.

Even now that they were old enough to think independently, they still couldn't shake off these old impulses. As things stood, they hated each other as much as they loved each other. Whether this would ever change was a question that perplexed the both of them.

__

Mike heard a knock on his door as he unpacked his stuff.

"Verena?! Is that you?" he asked.

"No... it's Victoria." she almost whispered.

"Who?" he asked, failing to hear her so far into his room.

She opened the door to reveal her identity.

Mike saw that Victoria was all suited up and ready for the course. She'd excelled at golf as well, practicing hour after hour under the recommendation of Senior.

"Victoria. Did you want to get your last word in? Win another argument?"

"Mike..." she said, half angry, half desperate.

"What?"

"...Can we ever get over this?" she finally finished.

"Get over what? A decade plus of warfare?"

"Mike, I'm sick and tired of fighting you."

"You don't think I was sick and tired of fighting you years ago? How about when you loosened the axle on my bike, years ago. Remember that? You wanted to win so much that you could have actually killed me. Could you ever get over something like that, if I did that to you? Wouldn't you want to fight me if I did that to you?"

Victoria sighed. "Mike, I have to go. But I'm not going to keep fighting you. I don't want to fight anymore. We're going to sit down and talk about this, okay? If we can't do it today, we'll find time in the future."

Mike didn't respond at first. He couldn't believe Victoria would cave like this: asking for a sit-down was far from her style. If anything, she'd be looking to ratchet up tensions even more. She was a fiercely combative girl, and Mike had to adjust to her style over the years to keep up.

"Is this some ploy to throw me off balance? What are you trying to do?"

Victoria dropped her head slightly and paused before looking him in the eye.

"I love you. I always loved you, Mike." she said.

He didn't respond. He let her close his door.

What had gotten into her? One moment she's trying to kill him, the next she loves him? Mike was as confused as he'd ever been.

__

Mike had been helping Verena in the kitchen when Mother finally showed up. He couldn't talk to her when she entered the kitchen because she was on the phone, taking a call. She nodded at him as she saw him, and he nodded back at her. That would be the extent of her acknowledgement, he thought.

Mother took a seat in the breakfast nook, where she continued her dry conversation. Eventually, though, the noise in the kitchen rose to a level at which she could no longer hear the person she was speaking with.

"Hold on a minute." she finally said, walking quickly out of the kitchen, her heels clacking loudly as she pranced.

"And there goes Mother." Mike said aloud as he helped Verena dice some onions. He'd spent so much time in the kitchen over the years, chatting away with Verena, that he was almost as good a cook as her. "You're gonna take my job one day." she would always tell him in her accent.

Verena smiled a bit. "She really loves you, you know. That's why she works so hard."

"How can she love me when she barely even knows who I am?" he retorted as he continued to work.

"She loves you because you're her child. She's just loving you in her own way."

"What a way to love someone." he remarked. "I just think she wants to secure her next career."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, one day she's going to get too old to work, as will we all. And when she does, she won't have anything to live for anymore. But us, of course. So when she's finally done with herself, she'll move onto us, and will try to live through us. We'll be her little toy soldiers."

"Always so negative, Junior. You are so blessed. Put a smile on your face."

"Yes, I'm blessed, people keep telling me. I'm trying to, I'm really trying to."

Mother finally came around again twenty minutes later.

"Junior." she called out to him as she clacked back into the kitchen. "I'm happy to see you." she finished dryly.

"I'm happy to see you too, Mother." Mike remarked neutrally.

"Where's your sister?" she asked quickly.

"Senior took her out golfing. Wanted her to meet some powerful people, I guess."

"Oh, right. I forgot."

Of course you forgot, thought Mike. "They'll be back in time for dinner tonight." he told her.

"Okay, great. Verena, do you still need Junior? He needs to get ready for dinner soon."

"I don-"

Just as Verena began to answer, Senior walked into the kitchen with Victoria, his arm wrapped around her. "Wife!" he exclaimed cheerfully, a smile across his face.

"Husband. You seem happy."

"Your daughter played well today!" he said, moving his hands off her shoulder to rub her scalp. "She made a good impression on some very powerful folks."

Victoria was forcing a smile. Junior always knew when Victoria was forcing a smile. And he found that very odd. The Victoria he always knew would be ecstatic to have the favor of Senior.

"Well I'm glad to hear that. We'll talk more about it at dinner." Mother cleared her throat. "You and I need to talk now."

"Well, what's wrong?" he asked, his face dampening a bit.

"Nothing. It's about the thing we've been discussing."

"Right, right." Senior seemed relieved. "Let's, uh, let's head out back." he suggested.

Mother nodded her head and followed Senior down the hall, out to the backyard spread. Victoria remained there, glancing at her brother.

"Nanny, I'm going to get ready for dinner now, okay?" Junior told Verena, kissing her on the cheek. He really wanted to ask Victoria about what Mother had said.

"Okay, go ahead."

The two started down the opposite end of the hall, to go upstairs. "What was Mother talking about?" he asked his sister, almost whispering.

Victoria waited a few seconds before answering. "Dad is thinking about running for governor."