Eight
If you would have told me that after a torrid threesome with my stepfather and stepbrother, life would go on as usual, I would never have believed it.
People who’ve had sex with each other can’t be…normal…around each other. Especially after the darker side of Dad I saw come out.
But when we get out of the bath, we find that Dad’s been called in to work. The next week is an especially busy one and I barely see either of the boys except at family dinner each night.
Monday I prepare enchiladas and am ready for everything to be super weird between us all. I was wired about it all day through my classes. Not to mention that sitting through said classes was not especially pleasant because losing one’s virginity—especially in such a… vigorous fashion…God, just say it like it is, Sarah: two Viking-like men fucked your brains out. And it’s left me sore as hell.
But when Dad comes in at six-fifteen on the dot, he says hi and goes up to shower like nothing at all is unusual.
I’m left thinking maybe I just imagined the whole thing? But nope, the soreness between my legs can attest that I did not just have a very vivid fantasy over the weekend.
I felt like Dominick was a bit more wary when he got home after working back to back Sunday-Monday shifts. He kept watching me like I was fine china that might break at any moment when he came in, offering to get things out of the oven, set the table, make tea.
I finally snapped at him to take his seat and get out of my kitchen. He did and then everything was normal. Well, apart from Dad coming in after his shower and smacking my ass before sitting down. “Smells great, sweet girl.”
But that was that. We talked about our days just like normal and no other references were made to our torrid Saturday session.
The whole week’s been like that.
It’s Thursday and I don’t know whether to continue being antsy or if it’s been so long, lowering my guard is okay.
And lowering my guard against what, exactly?
I love Dominick.
And Dad?
Initially when they first moved in, he was the one I connected to more.
I bite my lip as I strain the pasta and then put it back in the pot with the alfredo sauce. But now, my feelings for Dad are more complicated.
I think it’s just that I was so unprepared for what happened on Saturday. It came out of left field. I didn’t know what was going to come next or was expected of me. And then Dad was so…
I blink hard and stir the alfredo sauce as I glance out the kitchen window. It’s a picturesque view into the tree lined street. The sun has set and it’s getting dark. A fat squirrel runs up the limb of the ancient oak that shades our townhouse. I smile as another squirrel chases it around and around.
“What are you dreaming about, sweet girl?”
I screech and twirl around so quickly, the spoon I was stirring the sauce with goes flying. “Oh God, you scared me,” I wheeze, then smack at Dad’s shoulder.
He grins and makes a fake pained expression at my blow.
“Oh no, I made you spill. Sorry, sweetie.” He kisses the top of my head and moves to grab a paper towel to clean up the small spray of sauce that trails the counter and floor. He picks up the spoon and tosses it in the sink.
My heart melts a little in my chest. This is the kind man I first welcomed into my home and my heart. Is it possible to make space for both Dominick and Dad?
God, is that even…okay?
Or is it sick and twisted?
Everything I was ever taught growing up says yes, all of this is completely screwed up. FUBAR as my first boyfriend would have put it.
Beyond all repair.
But Dominick didn’t seem to think so. He just took it in stride when Dad joined in. This is normal for them.
And they’re my family. Family. Something I’ve never had before and always wanted. You make compromises for family. You stretch and grow for them.
Haha. Well, Dad certainly stretched me last Saturday.
Um. Okay, now I’m making really FUBAR jokes in my head.
“I’ll set the table,” I say, shaking my head, completely disturbed at the whole situation. I still no idea which way is up or down.
“Is Dominick going to make it tonight?” I ask.
“Nope, it’s just the two of us.”
My heart thumps harder.
But then Dad and I have a perfectly normal dinner. He talks about the extension for the oncology wing he and the board have been working on for a couple years now. Fundraising is always both the nightmare and lifeblood of Dad’s work.
“But at least I finally get to enjoy one of the perks.”