As Simple As Black And White?

We walked the hallway to Nessie's far bedroom, went in, woke her up, and got her to recognize me. I introduced her to Dora and she seemed to notice her. She smiled at Dora - the first time I had seen Nessie's very Iroquois face smile at anyone but me in many years.

Dora immediately took over, shushing me out of the room. I occupied myself by checking out the various gear around the house. Her exercise room, computer-media room, laundry-freezer room, cutting-edge kitchen - everything worked.

I heard water running. I couldn't help but peek into the open shower space.

Dora's shady naked form danced as she scrubbed Aunt Vanessa's lanky well-exercised 50-year-old coppertone body. Nessie hung her head back under the spray, water cascading from her lustrous black hair and off the pointed tips of her shiny ruby nipples surrounded by large chocolate areolae.

I smiled and left silently to let them finish.

I hit the kitchen and chopped omelet fillings: ham, scallions, tomatoes, peppers, olives, cheddar, avocado, fresh herbs from the kitchen window. I whipped plain yogurt into eggs, and julienned potatoes for a flash sauté. Cooking everything would only take another five minutes or so.

Dora and Nessie both emerged wearing short light robes. They looked great. Lots of tasty flesh.

Nessie whispered in Dora's ear. "Go easy with the scallions, guy. And be sure the cheese is melted soggy. Vanessa likes it that way," Dora relayed to me, grinning brightly.

I was stunned! I mostly communicated with my aunt via scribbled notes. She spoke! And to a stranger! I guess Dora had been 'accepted', you bet!

The clock was near midnight when we cleared the kitchen. Dora dressed; Nessie donned a heavier robe; we kissed her good-bye and I took Dora home, and then rode back to Fontana.

'Twould be understatement to say my mind roiled and boiled on my drive home. Complications and simplifications! Were Dora and I becoming 'we'? Was Dora now family? My co-caregiver? Was Nessie emerging from her trauma-induced shell? I was sure she would never move from her badly-located fortress. Would I be willing to give up my Fontana house and beg a new job assignment in order to relocate to Long Beach? What local ties would I sever?

I could probably finesse my job. I mentally rehearsed my pitch to my boss: "Let the Lancaster guy take over the Barstow and Victorville sites; I'll cover all of Orange County." And I could transfer to a local softball league. (No, it's not that serious to me!)

I considered my other links to Fontana: not many, not strong. I had few friends or interests there. My main glue was my home equity, whatever the place was worth. I made a mental note to check the realty listings and comparables.

And was I really going to think about marriage? Again? We hadn't even talked about love. Yet.

*****

Monday kept me busy near home, around Cucamonga. I was in Long Beach at the store rather later than usual Tuesday. Dora glared at me. "'Bout time you got here, you slug! I can go off shift early. Let's get to Vanessa's now. Here, *you* carry the damn food bags!"

Nessie was running the treadmill when we arrived. Up and active! She greeted us with a big smile, stopped the machine, hugged me, then embraced Dora and whispered in her ear.

"Yes baby, we're glad to see you too. Wait, what was that?" Nessie whispered again, another private message. "Okay, I'll ask him." Dora turned to me. "She wants you to give me the keys and codes so I can visit more often, that's what she said." Nessie nodded in vgorous agreement.

I had expected this also. I handed Dora a small package. "Here's everything you need to get in. You should memorize what's on the cards; then flush them. Better do it pretty soon. You don't want to lose those outside."

Dora fixed dinner that night, a tangy red Creole jambalaya of frozen chicken, shrimp, and smoked sausage in brown rice. I worked with Nessie at her computer while Dora chopped, seared, and mixed. Nessie worked her keyboard, sending pieces to her agent to sell - she may be damaged but she is not stupid.

Dora joined us while the food simmered. She watched our wordless interaction of keyboarding and gesturing. We had perfected our silent language.

"Don't y'all ever talk around here?" Dora looked puzzled.

I shrugged. "We seem to get things done okay like this."

Nessie smiled. Then her eyes lost focus. I saw her slip into unconsciousness. Yet another narcoleptic episode - her source of vivid dreams. Dora and I got her back into bed.

"You deal with this all the time? How long she been like this?"

"Yeah, pretty much always. She's had the tendency all her life. Narcolepsy is genetic and environmental. Her husband O.J. caught a weird fatal flu virus about twentyfive years ago. That seemed to trigger this." I waved at the sleeping beauty. "Her not talking or going out- that's psychological, a withdrawal."

"When O.J. died, she collapsed, and withdrew, and was even hospitalized for a while, but got kicked out after a round of budget cuts. Their kid Sandy was taken to foster care, then adopted; Nessie hasn't seen her since then. O.J.'s sister Carrie took care of her for fifteen years till she died. There's nobody else nearby, nobody who wants to bother. I've tended her since I was twentyfive."

"You do this all by yourself?" Dora asked.

"Well, my ex helped for a bit, but then she got real tired of the necessary routines. That's a big reason she's my ex now."

I sighed. "I didn't know how long I could keep at this. But she seems to be more energized now, more connected. You really make a difference, girl."

Dora gripped my arm in her hands. I could see she was holding back tears.

"She's not an idiot. She just can't face the world. She dreams, and writes, and exercises - you've seen how fit she is! She makes a living with the time and thoughts she has. I installed the computers and exercise gear so she can function on her own terms. But I still have to work hard to keep her going."

I didn't complain. I merely laid out the facts. Whining wouldn't help.

We left quietly. Our lovemaking at Dora's place that night was subdued and too brief. I had to go home to Fontana. The next few workdays would be grueling.

I didn't get back to Long Beach till Friday. I again reached the store a bit later than usual. The evening clerk passed me a note from Dora: "Come right to V's house. Buy nothing."

I locked the front door behind me, turned into the living room, and stopped in shock. Dora and Nessie were sitting side-by-side at a card table playing Scrabble and giggling! Nessie was interacting! They both grinned at me.

Nessie whispered in Dora's ear. Dora said aloud, "No Vanessa, YOU tell him yourself. I'm not your trained parrot!"

Nessie grimaced, and then gathered herself. She worked her jaw back and forth, swallowed, inhaled, and opened her mouth. And spoke! Aloud!

"Rory, boy, you have been a lifesaver, I can't thank you enough. And you have a lovely friend here, a wonderful person. You are blessed," her voice creaked and rasped. She coughed and continued.

"Isadora is welcome here at any time. She belongs here." Nessie coughed again, then tightened her jaw in determination. "And Rory, you must STOP calling me Nessie! That is not elegant. My name is Vanessa."

Dora and Nessie, I mean Vanessa, both grinned at me. I shook my head, dazed.

We stayed up fairly late that Friday night, till Vanessa nodded off. Dora was anything but subdued when we got to her place. That weekend was a mix of chatfests at Vanessa's and a fuckfests at Dora's. Yeah, maybe I *would* move to Long Beach!

*****

Dora and I talked about love. We agreed. We were lovers, and we were in love, and with each other, amen. Now, what to do about that...??

I pitched my assignment switch to my boss. She agreed. Wow! I put my Fontana house on the furnished-rental market. I loaded a small borrowed van and moved my keepable stuff into Vanessa's spare bedroom, the guest room I had occasionally appropriated. I was in a new home. Our home.

Vanessa's voice grew stronger with practice. She and Dora still whispered together often. I did not begrudge their secrets.

I was not expecting what came next, but I should not have been too surprised.

I was home most evenings now, unless some emergency kept me in Yuma or Zuma or another distant locale for a night. Home! It felt like a real home.

One night, I passed front-door security, and I heard moaning down the hallway. I walked quietly to the bedroom door. I peered inside.

Vanessa's lithe coppery body, drawn up on her knees, hovered atop Dora's strong darker form, half her age. They were engrossed in a classic 69 - tongues and fingers working each other's vulvas, legs and torsos and butts moving in responsive rhythmic waves.

Their lovemaking was slow and beautiful. I stood transfixed and silent.

Their moaning and tempo increased. Vanessa raised her wet face from between Dora's espresso thighs, her eyes squeezed shut, and groaned, rising in volume and pitch, squalling... and she yelled! An extended shout of animal ecstasy and surging gratification.

Dora did not slow or relent her attentions. Aunt Vanessa kept screaming. Good thing I had filled the walls with soundproof insulation!

Vanessa finally ran out of breath, and out of orgasm. She opened her eyes - and saw me watching them. She smiled at me, and then bent down to ostentatiously lick Dora's exposed pussy. Vanessa kept her eyes on mine for a few more seconds. She rolled off Dora, lying beside her, both on their backs.

Dora raised her head and saw me also.

"Oh fuck Rory, this is so great! Oh, I love being here! But I want YOU, Rory! I *need* you! Get your fucking clothes off and fuck me! Fuck me, NOW!!"

Aunt Vanessa made no move to cover her nakedness. She murmured, "Yes Rory, Isadora loves you and needs you! She IS your woman! Love her!"

Any moral judgments trying to worm their way into my consciousness drowned in the rising tide of my animal lust. I retained enough higher brainpower to remove my clothes quickly but without ripping anything, and to duck into the bath to dab a washcloth in hot water for a hasty wipe-off-the-sweat scrub.

I dashed back into the bedroom. Vanessa had swung around and was curled next to Dora, softly rubbing her and whispering to her. Dora saw me and held her arms and legs wide open.

I needed no further invitation. Dora's dark puffy labia glistened with her own exudation and Aunt Vanessa's tongue-lashing. I moved in for a taste of her hot center. I supped on those nether lips, swirled her stiff clitoris, probed deep into her core. I feasted! Dora moaned.

I felt hands reach to my head, grab my skull, pull my hair, force my head up.

"Enough of that, boy," Dora demanded. "Get up here! Get that thing in me!"

I crouched between her taut thighs and firmly slid my pulsing cock into her. We both sighed at the smooth penetration. She pushed her pubes up to meet me. I bent to suck one nipple; Vanessa joined me at her other breast. I moved in and out, faster then slower, shallower then deeper, with Vanessa caressing Dora with her hands and lips.

Dora was calling continuously, "Oh, oh, ah fuck, oh, ohhh..."

I pulled Dora's long legs up over my shoulder for a more acute angle and deeper penetration. "Oh fuck yeah," she moaned, as I increased my pace.

Now I was pounding. My balls bounced rhythmically off Dora's sex. With her thighs braced up, I moved my hands to hold her breasts and pinch the pebbled knots of her thickened nipples. I felt her orgasm approaching.

And then Aunt Vanessa pinched MY sensitized nips, and I exploded!

Jet after jet of my hot sperm coated Dora's womb. I fell onto her, careful not to crush her body, but also careful to crush my lips against hers, to swallow her tongue and her breath and her cries of joy, while her grasping pussy held and drained my cock.

We shifted slightly. Dora's strong arms and legs wrapped me, enfolded me, drew me and held me, so I was trapped in her web. We felt like one soul.

My penis finally slipped from her. I rolled off. Aunt Vanessa leaned over us, kissed my lips softly, kissed Dora hard. I placed one hand on Vanessa's breast and one on Dora's, and they held me too. Our faces nuzzled together.

Aunt Vanessa was crying.

"You children are so beautiful together! And Isadora, you are such a love! I have not felt physical love since my O.J. died so long ago. I have not shared love with a woman since I left college, even longer. Thank you both! I love you both."

Vanessa's tears washed us and provoked our own. We kissed each other's faces till no tears remained.

Dora cuddled me. "I love you both so much too! And with Vanessa... I dunno, it just felt so right. We was talking, and crying, and laughing, and touching, and kissing... and then we was naked, and loving, and... it just feels... RIGHT! Like I's meant to be here! Like this's all meant to happen!"

Dora brushed her lips against mine and continued. "Then Vanessa came! And I saw you, and I just knew we were all together, all just right, as long as I had you in me. I don't ever want to lose any of this! Hold me, both of you."

And we did.

We spent the night together there, Dora spooned into me, Vanessa spooned into Dora, all still sweaty, and steamed, and high. Showers could wait till morning.

*****

It all seemed like magic. Dora, taking me into her world, and bringing Aunt Vanessa back to life. Vanessa, slowly rejoining the world, or a least our part of it. My new life, freed from my old strictures, open to new configurations.

Dora and I talked about love. We didn't talk about marriage, not yet, but we hinted at it, and we lived almost as if we were already wed. Well, wed in a sort of threesome, with Dora spending time in both my and Vanessa's beds. Dora had not yet moved in fully with us. Her lease expired in month.

Magic is funny stuff. Fairy-tale magic always seemed so simplistic to me - say the magic words, wave your hands, weave your spells, and POOF! Out pops a minor miracle, no problem. Yeah, right.

I gave up reading those kinds of magic stories a long time ago. When reading fantasy, I prefer a *bit* more, tales where magic has a clear and dear price. Maybe the magic runs out, and the immortal mage grows old. Maybe each spell costs the wizard or witch some of their lifetime, or their strength, or their sanity. TANSTAAFL - There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch, as Heinlein wrote.

Our family magic had a price. A price that was dear, but not clear.

Dora and Vanessa (dressed, this time!) sat together on the couch perusing a pile of old photo albums. Aunt Vanessa named the rogues' gallery of faces in the snapshots and portraits. Dora seemed enchanted by this window into our family history.

As pages and names flew by, Dora's expression shifted and stiffened slightly. I felt a silent PING in my subconscious. I glanced at the women and noticed Dora's guarded look. I walked to the couch and stood behind them.

Vanessa pointed at a picture of a dark man, a not-so-dark woman, and a boy whose skin was intermediate. I recognized them all, of course.

"Here's my daddy Nate, and my mama Gina, and my big brother Willem, Rory's dad, when Bill was about eight. That was a couple years before mama Gina died while delivering me. Daddy was mostly Mohawk and Cree, and Mama was Sicilian. We were told us kids were A-wop-a-hoe, ha ha!"

Vanessa sniffled. "After Mama died, Daddy just fell apart. He left Bill and me to be raised by his sister and her husband. I have pictures of Aunty Ann and Uncle Todd and me in the next album. And shots with my O.J. - he was Shoshone. We'll get to those pictures in a minute."

In another picture, Nate was much older, standing with a not-too-swarthy man and a pale blonde woman holding a pink baby.

"This is from a lot later, when Daddy came out here to visit. That's Willem and his wife Sue, Rory's folks. Sue's a Swede, in case you couldn't guess. And that's the little brat Rory himself," pointing at the infant. I was past being embarrassed by my baby photos.

"By this time, Daddy had built a new life back East, with a new wife and family, but he never brought them to visit, I don't know why. He just came by himself every couple years."

I saw Dora getting stiffer. Vanessa didn't seem to notice.

"Ummm Vanessa, would it be okay if I borrowed these two pictures here?" Dora pointed at the snapshots I just mentioned.

"Of course, honey. Take as many as you want. I know I don't have to tell you to take care of them."

Dora thanked her and went to the bathroom, then returned and excused herself, saying she had something to take care of back at her apartment.

We were all together again the next evening. Dora pulled photos from a manila envelope.

"Aunt Vanessa, do you recognize the people in these pictures?"

The first photo: An older dark man, suited and stiff and somber; a younger black woman, tall and straight; a cute black baby.

"Why, that looks like my daddy Nate! And I've seen her picture before! That's Lydia, my Daddy's second wife, and that must be my half-brother Bradley! I've never met them, just a couple old photos."

Dora presented another snapshot, much newer: a black family, man and woman and thin-faced baby girl, casually dressed, all smiling.

Vanessa peered at it. "No, I can't say that I've seen these faces before." She looked at Dora. "These are important to you, aren't they?"

Dora nodded. "This here," she said, holding the last photo, "is me with my folks, Bradley and Lyn. And this other picture," holding the first, "is my dad Brad when he was just a toddler, and his folks, my grandma Lydia and my grandpa Nathan."

Dora looked at me. "Rory, your grandpa Nate is also MY grandpa Nate. We're first cousins. And Aunty Vanessa, you're my aunt. For real."

She started shaking and crying - tears of despair, not joy. Vanessa and I held her tightly. Dora wailed disconsoletely for many minutes, her body wracked by deep sobs.

Dora moaned through her tears. "I thought... I thought I was in... in a new life, almost like I's adopted into your family. Like I found y'all, no, like we found each other, found a family of love, people I can love and who love me because of who I am, and what I can be, and... oh shit, am I making any sense?" Dora sobbed again, and then regained control.

"And now, now I find you're family, all right, but family I was born to... even though we look nothing alike, we're still blood family, right? And I just can't fuck my blood family, my born-into family, 'cause that's incest, and that's wrong, right? Oh fuck, what is going on?" She wailed again.

Vanessa and I were sitting on the couch on either side of Dora. We held her, soothed her, whispered to her, did our best to calm her.

Vanessa's wisdom seeme to have an effect. "Isadora girl, you've done nothing wrong. Doesn't matter what our blood is, we're all just people. You and Rory, you didn't grow up together, and you didn't grow up with me, so we have no close history, no forbidden fruit, nothing like that. You and Rory, you're lovers, you got together as lovers, not because of any family thing, just because it was right, because YOU are right together." Dora's sobs were subsiding.

"You and me, Dora, we love each other because of what we do to, no, what we do FOR each other. You are a wonder, girl. Rory kept me alive for all those years, but you've brought me BACK to life, back to the world. If it wasn't for your love, I'd be dying, no, I'd be dead to the world, locked up inside myself, nowhere to go. You're both the best things in my life."

I chimed in. "And remember cousin, that's what we are, COUSINS. And not we-grew-up-together kissin' cousins, neither. We're strangers who happen to have the same grandfather. You're not my little sister, not someone I have power over, not leading you astray. And we're in California. Nothing illegal here about cousins marrying, nothing like that." I grinned.