Mind Made Up Pt. 02

- What?

- What's up with you? I ask.

- Nothing much. Chilling. Some documentary on bees or something. Not really paying attention.

- No, I insist. What's up? How are you doing?

I walk over to the loveseat besides the couch and sit there, ready to interact. She sits back up, crossing her legs, and looks at me quizzically.

- You're the one who said you wanted to spend time with me, I remind her.

- True that.

Her blank expression turns to a smile and she happily focuses on me.

- I have missed you, you know. God! We used to be so tight.

- To be fair, Heather, we were never tight.

- But we had fun together. I remember playing in the backyard with you - running through the yard, under the sprinklers. Or pool parties at Diana's.

That I remember; Diana was a schoolmate of mine, and my girlfriend for about one summer, right before my last year of high school.

- Those were fun times, I concur.

- Well, I'd like to get some of that back, you know. And you're right. We lived in different worlds as kids, or teenagers, but now that we're adults, there's no reason not to mix those worlds if we want to.

- Heather, I couldn't agree more.

I smile at her; she smiles back.

- So what did you want to do? I ask.

- As I said, go out, hang, beach, whatever. Ice cream, definitely.

- Then you'd better go get dressed, I tell her.

She jumps off the couch.

- Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! she jokes, assuming a military stance.

She runs off out of the room; I turn the television off, then rise to get something to drink. My mind wanders back to Dolores and Pauline, both women featured in my dad's picture collection (hinting that he was intimate with them), both with whom I've had sexual encounters. I think of the thousands of pictures and wonder how many women made up my father's harem - that's how it feels to me, anyway.

I think back on his letter and the request he made: he wants me to bring a personalized letter to his other child, the one he fathered that led to my parents' divorce. Her name is Jessie. Not much to go on, and I'm not sure I want to honor that request. At the same time, I am curious about her - who she is, what she's like, if she knew anything about my dad's situation. For all I know, she and her mother left town long ago, sixteen years now.

I also think of Pauline's situation with her husband and the supposed affair Jeff might be having. Perhaps because of my own father's infidelity, it strikes me as a punishable offense, if true. But should I even get involved? I can enjoy my time with Pauline without being bogged down by her marital difficulties, yet it may be those that spurned her affections for me in the first place.

My distractions come to an end when Heather reappears before me. I give her a doubletake. Although she is 19, Heather still behaves like a young teenager. Her taste in clothes reflects this too. She is sporting shorts that could pass off as swimming gear, and her top is a black sports bra covered by a red mesh camisole.

- Well? Don't I look spiffy? she asks.

- Spiffy?

She giggles.

- You know what I mean.

I don't really, but I decide not to dwell on it. She stares at me in my jeans and t-shirt, then shrugs.

- I suppose anything looks good on you.

- Are you commenting my dress style?

- Or lack thereof, she quips, giggling again.

She steps forward and punches me in the arm.

- Come on, Grant. Let's hit the town!

- Where do you want to go, Heather?

IT TAKES US A WHILE to get to our first destination. Heather says it's too early for ice cream so we end up walking along the promenade across town leading to the beach. Heather is flamboyant as she struts her stuff about, talking about her last school year, memories from our childhood. The space she occupies draws many gazes in our direction, and I can't help but feel that those who don't know us (to be fair, it's most everybody by now) must think we're more boyfriend-girlfriend than brother-sister. Heather keeps tapping my arm, pulling my hand, walking around me. She's definitely cute in the way she dances around, and I can't help but watch her flail about every time she goes into a diatribe of some length.

I also can't help but notice, as we pass by, how many looks I get from the feminine side of the aisle. I get a few stares from men as well, but it's really the women who lock eyes with my figure or my face that sparks my attention. I even get a few catcalls; in fairness, my sister gets as many from the guys walking by. This makes her laugh.

- Guess I'm popular everywhere! she quips.

- Does that happen often where you live?

- Nah... maybe. I don't really pay attention anymore. But you, brother - you're drawing out all the ladies today! Aha!

I smile back.

- Guess they know a good deal when they see one, I joke.

- Oh! I absolutely agree with that assessment.

I stare back at her, a bit dumbfounded; she giggles even more.

- What? You're a sweet package, Grant. Didn't anybody tell you that?

- More and more people, apparently, I reply.

As we arrive at the beach, I become a bit self-conscious about my appearance. I see a few ladies here in revealing bikinis and their sight provides a slight arousal; I can feel my pants tightening. Because I stop, Heather turns around.

- What?

- Just... looking at the time. We're gonna want to stop for lunch in not too long.

- I'm not hungry, but if you are, there's cantinas around, Heather says.

Just then, I spot her staring at my crotch. I give her a scolding glance. As per her usual reaction, this only amuses her more.

- Too much skin for your taste, Grant? Relax! I think it's hot too. All that skin... If I'd thought about it, I'd have brought my own bikini.

- Kill me, why don't you! I snap at her, laughing.

- If you don't want to stare at the gorgeous girls running around the beach, we don't have to.

- Whatever. Lead on.

She pulls at my arm and we walk onto the sand. We find a table to sit at; I rest on the bench while she sits straight on the table. I look at her legs and smiles as she tosses her sandals off. From her handbag, she pulls out a sunscreen lotion and starts to rub on her legs.

- Didn't you do that at home? I ask, watching her hands follow the curves of her legs.

- Forgot. Besides, it's much more fun with people watching!

And I do see people staring at my sister's performance; heck, I'm staring too! I look away grudgingly by my eyes dart towards a group of bikini girls that are doing some aerobics on the beach.

- They're pretty, Heather follows my gaze.

- They are.

Her hands move to mesh camisole; she pulls it off. This draws back my gaze, as well as that of many others. She then starts applying lotion on her exposed skin.

- Do my back? she asks.

I take a dollop of lotion from her bottle and slather it on her lower back, rubbing firmly. She moans slightly.

- Don't forget to do the creases.

- Creases?

- Where the skin meets the cloth.

- Oh.

This is a little daunting but I slide the tip of my finger underneath the short shorts at the waist to add a bit of lotion there; I do the same for the sports bra. As my hands work their way on Heather's back, I can't help but feel more tightening in my pants. I resist the urge to unclasp the button and unzip so what's inside can breathe free. I get to Heather's upper back and I feel her relaxing against my hands.

- Damn those hands, bro.

More praise; I rather enjoy it now. I let my eyes wander away from my sister's back and notice several stares in my direction. Apparently, I'm also providing a show for onlookers. I get self-conscious again and stop. Heather lets out a sigh of disappointment but says nothing more. She finishes her neck and face.

- What about you, bro?

I lie.

- I applied some at home.

- Ok.

The sensation of my sister's hand running on my skin is not something I want to experience right now; the thought of it is enough to keep me aroused. To defuse the situation, I turn back to light conversation. It doesn't really work, except to divert the conversation elsewhere. Heather moves into psychology and the fact that relationships are pretty much random.

- You don't choose your family. Some of your friends are chosen for you, depending on what you do - school, activities, etc. Plus, you don't really know with whom you'll connect along the way. I mean, sure, you have a say in it on some degree - you can choose whether or not to pursue any relationship, though sometimes that choice is invisible.

- Makes sense.

- Take me, for example. My life so far.

This is more intimate a conversation than I thought it would get so I focus all my attention on my sister; after all, she wants to get things off her chest, apparently.

- I mean, I'm almost 20. I've had no real relationships - love, I mean - but it's mostly because I haven't tried it out. I've had offers, you know - few friends in high school, some dude at college from my class. I've never said yes, you know?

- Why is that?

- Because... well, to be honest, I feel like I can do better than anyone I've met. Now, I'm not saying they're bad people, but it feels like settling, and I don't want to settle.

- Well, if it's like school, no wonder, I quip.

- Bite me!

I offer her a wide smile to accompany my joke, then comment further.

- I think that's commendable on you, Heather. I haven't been in a relationship for years myself.

Not for lack of trying, I reflect, but that's half-a-lie; I also haven't really been looking, and no one's made any offers. Studies were my focus at the time, and now finding a job is the main task.

- Well that's wrong, Heather blatantly states. A cool guy like you should get all the girls!

I can't help but think of Dolores and Pauline, and I wonder if anything like that wish is in my future. I also can't help but wonder if Heather's comment is somewhere along the lines of flirting with me. After all, if everyone seems to appreciate me more, why wouldn't my sister do so as well?

- That's sweet of you, I mutter. I guess... I guess it's just a matter of time until I find the right one.

- Absolutely! she insists.

She jumps to her feet.

- My brother's the best guy out there and everyone should know it.

- Maybe not so loud, I tell her, seeing multiple people staring at us.

She giggles, then stares in the distance towards the city.

- I'm hungry.

- Want to go eat somewhere?

- Lead on, big bro!

We head out, away from the beach; she grabs her red mesh camisole and carries it with her. A cantina yields our loot: pogos and fries. I watch Heather practically swallow one whole; obviously, the suggestive imagery of her gesture is not lost on me, but I don't think anything of it, since she's not focused on me at all. I eat at a more reasonable pace. Done eating, Heather gulps down her drink and burps, then giggles.

- Mature, I say.

- Bite me! she smirks gleefully.

I smile. We head out again afterwards, back on the path. It's a pleasant and brisk walk. Heather is fun to be around, eternally happy and playful, commenting on every little thing we see. And her energy is contagious; pretty soon, I'm throwing my own quips out there, adding my two cents. We end up laughing quite a bit.

Eventually, we arrive at Janie's, the ice cream place. It's not part of any chain - locally run since before I was born. Janie's was the daughter of the original owner: she must now be in her sixties. The place is family run. There's a small crowd so we wait in line; looking at the counters, I notice a familiar face from my school days. Olivia is serving people - we went to the same school for all our childhood years. I watch her exhausted face, moving from client to client as best as she can in the afternoon rush. Meanwhile, Heather's picking her choice.

As we move up the line, my eyes finally catch Olivia's attention; almost instantly, I see the recognition, and then the smile that returns to her lips. Her reaction is somewhat surprising; we never really hung out other than for class activities. We weren't close. But the way she looks at me tells me she is pleased to see me. Again, I wonder if that trinket I wear on my finger has something to do with it. Of course, she is busy with clients ahead of me so I have to wait.

Heather turns to me, having spotted the same clerk as me.

- I know that girl.

- Olivia. I went to school with her, I explain.

- Nope. That's not where I know her from.

I let it slide; it may come to her eventually. The closer I get to Olivia, the wider her smile becomes. When I do get to the counter, she leans over slightly, as if to embrace me, but she doesn't reach over the counter.

- Grant! Wow...

- Hi, Olivia. How are you?

- I'm great... super nice to see you!

- You too!

She's gorgeous, even in her work clothes with her short black hair under a hairnet. Because there are people waiting behind me, we can't linger in conversation, so she asks for our order. Heather keeps staring at her; as Olivia turns away to process our order, I remind my sister it's rude to stare.

- Can't help it, she tells me. I've seen her somewhere before.

I don't insist and watch Olivia work. I follow her hands as she prepares the ice cream cones, my eyes darting every so often to her wonderful curves. I see her writing something down a moment. She returns and hands us our food; there's a small piece of paper rolled against my cone. She thanks us with a wink and sends us on our way. As we step away from the counter, I peruse the bit of paper. Unexpectedly, it's a phone number. Most likely hers.

I can't hide the smile from my face and look back at her; she waves almost shyly at me. Heather can't help but notice.

- You have a date?

- I guess I may, I simply reply.

This makes my sister laugh; we head out and eat our cones.

WE GET BACK HOME right before supper. I've had a wonderful day with Heather. I haven't felt this close to my sister since forever. The connectedness reminds me that my family has always mattered to me. Clearly, Heather feels the same. When I reach for the door handle, she hugs me from behind.

- You're the best, Grant. Thank you so much for today. I... really liked it.

- Me too, Heather.

I squeeze her arms back. We enter the house: mom and Stacey are back. They look happy, but mom looks tired. I'm greeted with a big hug.

- And how was your day? Mom asks.

Heather chimes in.

- It was awesome. We went to the beach for a bit, then got some ice cream at Janie's.

- Haven't been there in forever, Mom says.

- Well, we could go tomorrow, Stacey states. The four of us, if you all want.

- I'd love to go back! Heather continues. Plus, there's this girl that Grant went to school with... what's her name?

I reply that it's Olivia; I still have the paper with her number in my pocket. Stacey's eyes glow.

- I remember her. Didn't she used to live on the street?

- That's right! Heather says.

I don't remember that at all; in fact, I'm pretty sure I've never seen here near. The confusion on my face makes Stacey laugh.

- You really don't recall, do you?

- I'm sorry, I don't.

- It's okay. She didn't hang with you. She hung out with us.

Now I'm thoroughly confused; Stacey further explains.

- Look, she lived at the complete other end of the street. There's the woods behind her house. You remember?

My mind brightens with understanding: I don't remember her but I do remember her house, and the 'forest' behind her. When we were young, we called it the 'forest', but it's just a large spot with trees that stretches up to the hill.

- She lived there?

- Yep. And we hung out - all the girls, anyway. Had sort of a club back then - no boys allowed. Kept it hush-hush. Remember Heather?

- I sure do... that's where I met her.

- A club? I inquire.

My sisters giggle but refuse to tell more; suddenly, I understand how, despite a five-year age difference, they are closer to one another than they are to me. Stacey left home after high school when Heather was only 12 - before that, however, they must have shared some activities together. That all-female 'club' was part of it, apparently. However, since they don't want to provide more detail, I let it go and go help mom with supper.

FROM MY BEDROOM WINDOW on the second floor, I can see out the side of the house, towards Pauline Walker's residence. After supper, I retire to my room to work on the computer, but I actually just end up staring out the window. I spot Pauline in her backyard; she's tending to her garden like she was in the morning. I bite my tongue as I watch her bent over, working the plow, and I can't help but remember our activities of the morning. I still can't get over how natural it all felt. My instincts have me look for her husband, but I don't see him.

A wonder hits me, and I begin to fantasize about going down there. I'm not certain she would mind my company. At the same time, I wouldn't want to find him (Jeff) there - or worse, have him arrive while Pauline and myself are involved with one another. I slide back from the window and slouch on my bed. I find my phone and select one of its games, but then I reconsider. My hand goes to my pocket and Olivia's number on paper.

- Why not! I say out loud.

I call the number up. It rings twice, then a familiar feminine voice answers.

- Grant! Hi!

- Hello? How'd you know it was me?

- Caller ID?

I giggle at the obviousness of the answer.

- Ok. Yeah. Sorry. Hi.

- Hello.

Awkward momentary silence. I speak first.

- It's... nice to see you. It was. It is.

My awkwardness makes her laugh lightly on the other end of the line.

- Aha... Me too.

- So...

I don't have time to add anything before she interrupts me.

- I'd love to.

- What?

- See you? That's what you're calling about, right?

- Um... yeah. Yeah.

- Well, I'm willing. Whenever.

- Tonight?

- Tonight it is.

The ease at which this potential 'date' is setup astonishes me but I roll with it.

- Where? I inquire.

- Say we meet outside the school. At the park.

- Sounds good to me. When?

- I can be there in twenty...

There's a pause as I consider my next question.

- Do you still live on the same street?

- No. I have my own place. Sort of. It's a roommate type of thing.

- Ok... so, at the parc?

- In twenty.

- I'll be there! she enthusiastically repeats.

We hang up after 'see you soons'. I'm smiling like a teenager on a first date; I also feel equally nervous. I always liked Olivia, from afar at least. She was never mean to me and to a nerdy teenager, that was something important. I gather my stuff and start heading out; I pass by the living room to let everyone know I'm gone. Mom is nowhere to be seen, but my sisters are sitting on the couch, chatting up one another. I call to them to draw their gaze.

- Going somewhere? Stacey asks.

- I am.

- On a date with Olivia? Heather calls out.

I want to be surprised that she knows, but it makes sense, considering she did see Olivia give me her number earlier in the day, even though she didn't acknowledge it.

- As a matter of fact, I say and end there.

Heather gives me a thumbs up, adding:

- Give her the D!

- What? Stacey snaps at her though with a grin on her face. You don't say that - least of all to your brother!

I'm stunned myself though the sensation quickly dissipates. Stacey waves me out and I hurry along the street to my destination. Passing in front of Pauline's, I tell myself that I may not need to go back to her for satisfaction - not that I would mind. Pauline is an accomplished woman, smart and sensible. But I don't let my mind wander in that direction - instead, I let my feet take me to the park.

I GET THERE to find Olivia swinging on a swing. She's much more presentable now that she's off work. A cute flowery summer dress swings as she sways up and down. Gorgeous legs lift her up and back down on the swing. I stop and stare for a moment, then hurry to her. When she sees me, she stops swinging and stands up. I walk up to her and stop. We stare.