Best Friend's Sister Ch. 06

Best Friend's Sister 6

A Trip to the Beach

Despite being loud and obnoxious at times, I'm really... not. I'm not really a loud person. I can tell when I'm being noisy and obnoxious. Usually a second or two before someone's getting ready to tell me to shut the EFF up. Not enough warning to help me keep my foot out of my mouth. I'll think I'll have that mastered when I'm like 90, far too late to be of any use.

I think being conspicuous is a way to stop myself from retreating into myself, since I'm really an introvert. Karaoke, karate tournaments, fighting some hopped-up maniac, skiing down the black diamond slope, what else? They were just a way to force myself out of retreating to some place where I felt safe, which was usually in isolated spot with a book in my hands.

Sorta like my karate. It isn't really who I am. I had no desire to rule the world or get one-up on any particular person. It was a way to force my way out of my comfort zone and not withdraw from the world. What's the point to this train of thought? My natural inclination is to withdraw, almost like a person on the spectrum. As I headed into my twenties, I decided I didn't like being an adult. Nothing I had experienced so far as an adult had lived up to my expectations. Could I return it and ask for a different model? If I could have avoided it, I would have. I guarantee there wasn't a bit of joy found in the decay of my family throughout most of my life and its inevitable collapse. I'm pretty sure by 1986, I'd had enough of adulthood but had no idea what to do about it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

By the start of 1987 I was at an impasse. I had just finished my first year post-bachelors and it hadn't been exactly stellar. Debbie was long gone and had even left the ministry. My brother John had been working at a summer camp in Maine and at summer's end he eventually moved up to the family home at the top of the Bay. He was painting houses, making good money, but hating it at the same time. John was in Salisbury and was deep into his relationship with Laurie. Married yet? I don't remember. It was like three years before the arrival of their daughter, so very early in all of our lives. Me, I spent that year me living at home with my parents, acting like I still had an ounce of respect for my father and trying not tell my mother she was a fool. If only I could send myself a message.

David '86. Get out of the house now.

It's fucking up your sanity. David '21.

During the of summer of '85, I met a woman who worked as the camp nurse. We stayed together from the end of camp through New Years, were together off-and-on during '86, and then it fell apart by the end of the year. Too young to know I had to start looking for solutions outside the box. Thankfully I received an invitation to look for work in Richmond. It wasn't something I would've ever considered but the offer showed up right when I needed it. Wanda somehow convinced me to go with her and look for work in the big city. I wish I could find out how she reached that moment in her life but I don't think I'll ever have that opportunity. I know she had a bad break-up, which was evident when we ended up on Grace Street. It surprised me that she wanted to go back to Richmond but I guess she'd put down roots there. But I think we were both at the point where we needed to get away and stretch our wings, no matter what made us come to that realization. So that's what we did.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So, how did my savior show up? Why did she show up? It seemed to move awful quick, now that I look back on it. On night we had our first kiss in my studio. Two days later we were on the road. I wish, I so wish, I'd been in another state of mind. She must've been extremely determined, to take on someone so... damaged.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

One night we'd our first kiss. The somehow came to the conclusion that moving was the solution to our problems. I suppose everyone convinced me that I needed a change of venue. Simple as that. I showed up the next morning ready to go. We packed up the car, said our goodbyes, and headed on down the road.

Wanda had changed into a long dress and high heels. God, she looked elegant. I thought she looked wonderful, grown up. Me? I was still in my overalls and my muck-out-the-stall boots. Once again, I was outside my element but willing. I was the fool that always volunteered when one was needed. She looked sophisticated and I felt like a hick. So, we started out the journey on an uneven footing, even if it was all my imagination. I felt like I was following in her wake, while she probably felt we were equals and there to support each other. I couldn't see she might have been struggling just as much I was.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We'd been in Richmond for maybe three years, long enough to settle in and long enough to actually miss the family back home. So we worked it out and made the trip. For me, each visit did less and less for me. How is it possible to admit that going home was bad for you? How can anyone come to that conclusion?

Eventually we hit Centreville and rolled up to Wanda's house. We limped in, sore after the three-hour trip, and received a hug from her mother. We had about an hour to sit down at the kitchen table and bring each other up to date how everyone was doing. It was good to chat but sooner or later I had to bite the bullet and go home to see my family. At some point we had to talk about them, a topic that always stirred up so much in me. I felt out of control when I slipped up and let it loose. There was simply too much up there. Of course, Wanda and Mrs. Anderson were perfectly willing to pull the string on that pinàta. I hope they didn't think this impromptu intervention was going to resolve all my issues or get rid of the damage. They cared, which absolves them of the attempt, as fruitless as it was going to be.

No wonder they felt so much sympathy. Wanda and I had grown apart but we still cared about each other. Whatever it was, she laid her hand on my cheek, like she always did, somehow knowing it calmed me down. I don't think she gave it much thought. Some natural instinct. Me, I closed my eyes and felt her hand there. Her mother was watching me, though. She could see that the touch was a... lifeline to me. Like I was drowning and Wanda's hand gave me a touch of hope.

To Wanda, it was over in a second. To me, it took a minute to get over the feeling. To her mother, she saw something that needed to be fed, like a fire. I think the next time they talked she suggested we should d go on some sort of road trip together. The next time Wanda and I talked, she asked if I felt like going to the beach. "Oh, yeah. That's a great idea. It'd be nice to get away for a bit."

Finally, our schedules matched up. I pulled up at her apartment and knocked on the door. She opened up and there she stood, in shorts and a t-shirt, towels and sunglasses, a change of clothes, alcohol. "Amazing. I think you're the first girl I've met who's actually ready on time."

"That's me. I work, I sleep, I eat, I have a schedule. I have to be on time."

"Okay. Well, let's get out of town and go to the beach. I have to stop by my place first for a few things, then we'll hit the road."

"So, you're the one that's not ready to go." I heard some energy there but there was little enthusiasm. We had drifted apart and I felt it was all on me.

"Yeah, you're right. Let's go."

We got in the car and headed back to my apartment. It couldn't have been more than five minutes until we made the turn onto Grace Street and passed a small apartment on the left. I think we both turned to look at it as we passed. It had a lot of memories for her, some good, some bad. Me, it was a short but memorable visit. "You know what I think about every time I pass that place?"

"Probably not the same things I do."

"I seriously doubt that. It was the first time I had a some seriously dirty thoughts about you."

"Really. And what was that?" with a drawl in her voice, like it no longer truly mattered. Which hurt a bit.

"Well, you didn't have a key. The only way to get in was to force the front window and then you had to crawl in to unlock the door."

"So, what's so x-rated about that?"

"Wanda. I assume it's not an easy thing to crawl through a window wearing a dress and high-heels. Halfway through, your dress got caught on something and lifted up. I saw just a bit too much or just enough. But there was nothing I wanted to do more than.."

"Okay. I get the picture. In any other setting that would be exciting but I was half in and half out of the window, with my butt sticking out. I'm sure I probably wouldn't have appreciated it as much as you would have."

"Well, it's my dirty memory but I think you would have. I'm sure I would have enjoyed it but it would have been all for you."

For the first time today, she had a smile. "Okay. I'm sure you're right about that. I know you're hard worker. Operative word hard."

"Well, you made it inside and got the door open. Whatever you were there for, you needed some time. A few years ago I came to the realization that I really need to avoid having time to stew. So I usually have a book with me wherever I go. I didn't have one then, which left me with too much time to think. After ten minutes I was stewing and then I felt the urge to walk out the door."

"Why? I just wanted to get something that was mine."

"I'm not sure I knew that. I know staying home wasn't an option and I hoped Richmond was going to be a grand new beginning. I hoped we'd have the chance to explore the idea of 'us.' You seemed so wrapped up in what you were doing. I remember thinking, 'Did I bring her down here just to drop her off? Was I just her ride?' I went in fine then all of a sudden I was in another one of my black moods."

"That's not what it was about at all. I was there because I was still angry and really I wanted to toss everything out into the street. But not before I got what I came for."

"I'm so sorry. For you it was a place of memories, some good and some bad. I guess I was focused on where 'we' were going. If something was going to happen, I sure didn't want it to happen there. I wanted it to be in a loving place where we could be create some wonderful memories together. Now I feel terrible. I'm so sorry, Wanda. You were so consumed with what was bothering you and there I was being selfish the whole time."

"Wow. I must've been really wrapped up in being pissed off. Two years later and now you tell me? It's not supposed work that way."

"I'm sorry. I know I'm not the best communicator in the world and despite being loud sometimes, I'm really pretty uptight and introverted. If you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I know. I agree with the introverted and the uptight part. Yeap, I agree with all of that. Most of the time I have no clue what's going on in your head."

I had to laugh. "What's so funny about that?" she asked.

"The one and only girlfriend I've had down here said exactly that. 'Sometimes I have no clue what's going on in that head of yours.' And my laugh should've sounded sarcastic and bitter. If it didn't, tell me so I can do it over."

"Oh, yeah, I heard some of that. I don't know what happened to you. You don't seem to be the same person I grew up with and learned to love."

I tried to take it as she said it and not read any more into it. We could've said those words five-ten years ago and still meant them exactly the same. "I haven't been the same since that day we caught Dad screwing around. That was four years ago and still it gets me worked up. Living at home that last year certainly didn't help."

"I'm sorry. I can't even guess what it would do me to have go through that. I was hoping at some point you could stop thinking about it and it would heal up. It's not that simple, is it?"

"No. The only idea I have is to just stop going home. Every time I go it just opens it all up. That's what Debbie's did. She doesn't go home at all. And John moved away, too. It seems like Dad got a free pass. But Mom told us, 'Stop interfering. It's our marriage.' I love Mom but she's wrong. He's still a lying snake. It was our life, too. John wants to go firebomb 'her' house and I want to take him out back and beat the crap out of him. So, no, I guess it hasn't healed up much after all."

We pulled in front of my building. "Come here." She leaned over and put her head against mine in sympathy. Me? I was still angry but it calmed me down. "I'm sorry, Wanda."

"Sorry. Why are you sorry?"

"I'm just fucked up. I'm no good for me and I'm no good for you. I think my mind is constantly on simmer. I don't want to let it out and I don't want to keep it in. I don't I even remembers what it's like being happy. And it's not a headache that'll be gone tomorrow. It's my whole frame of mind. So no, I'm not the same person you knew."

"Who would be? How could anyone go through that and not come out hurt?"

She put her hand up and rested it on my neck. She slid it around a little, knowing the contact and the warmth would let me focus. "You'll survive. And you might even let yourself be happy someday."

"Maybe there's a book out there: How to Find Happiness."

"There's usually a book for everything these days. I don't think it's something you can do alone. Being happy is a group project. You need friends to help you find it."

"Thanks. I love when that eureka 'lightbulb' goes off."

"What's that?"

"If you think being happy is something you do alone, you're wrong. If you're so self-centered you don't think you need help from anyone, you're still wrong. I know there's a term for it but I don't remember what it is."

"It's called narcissism. It's when you think you're the center of the universe and everyone's there to keep you happy."

"That's it. Must not've been important enough to remember."

"That's because you've never been self-centered. You always care about everyone around you, even the idiots."

"Really? Is that how you see me? I've always thought I was pretty selfish."

"It's not how I see you. It's what I know about you."

"Ah. You always make me feel better." With a little sniffle. "You should bottle that stuff. I'd take it every day."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We went in to get the few things I forgot: the cooler for the beer, ice, maybe some granola bars, a few other things. I asked her to take a look at the music I had, so we'd have something to listen to on the way. I grabbed something from my desk and headed to the kitchen.

There we were trying to get out of town. Thinking about my family always got me so worked up. A lot. I spent all my time trying to avoid thinking about it. Whenever I opened that door it was like a flood. There was way too much for my brain contain. Yet it was self-destructive to keep it all bottled up inside. The only person I ever talked to about it was my brother and that wasn't a solution. We might talk about it but since it got us both worked up, it wasn't therapeutic in any way. The only agreement we came to was that we both wanted to burn 'her' house down and we both wanted to take him out back and whip him unceasingly. No, it hadn't healed up at all.

Yet she was pretty good at pulling me out of these moods or by distracting me.

"Here. Have a beer and take a seat while I get this stuff together. How about we talk about you instead." I said, hoping I could distract myself from my dark thoughts. "You've got to have more of a life than I do. Tell me something good."

"Good? Like what."

"I'm glad you're here. I love spending time with you. If you have a boyfriend, he must be a helluva guy to let you go to the beach. Or are we picking him up on the way?"

"No. David." With a bit of exasperation.

"Unless you told him I'm gay. Is that it? You did, didn't you? That's the only way he'd let you go. Don't expect me to go all gay when I meet him. If I did that for anyone it would be you, but it's not happening."

"You're funny. A little. No, I don't have a boyfriend. I work, I do laundry, I sleep, I work. Oh, and I eat and I get a bit wider each day and my boobs don't want to get any bigger."

"Wow. Let me that chew that over. Mmmm.... Here you go: Don't you worry. Puberty is gonna hit soon and then everything will start growing." She pinched my arm. "Ow! Your boobs are just the right size and I love you just the way you are. You're perfect just like that."

"Thank you. I appreciate your confidence in me and my boobs."

"You know I care about you." and leaning toward her chest, "and you girls, too."

"Don't talk to my boobs."

"Okay, okay. Maybe you don't bring them out to play enough." She raised her eyebrows, trying to think of a bitchy reply but I cut her off. "Listen. You know I'd like to see you happy. Being the great guy I am, if it means so much to you I'll pay for you to get those implants things, if you really want to be bigger. If I pay for it, though, I get to inspect the end product to make sure we got our money's worth."

"Oh lord. Give me a minute to think that through. What do you mean inspect the end product? I'm not sure if I want to know if that's like squeezing the melons at the store."

"Let's think about it. Would they be like plums, oranges, grapefruit, pineapples, or watermelon? Or haven't you thought that far ahead? Watermelons. Lord, that would be incredible, wouldn't it! Will they feel like a peach or more like a baseball? After a few years will they look like my mother or will they still be like.. uh..." I had been doing so well. At that moment it probably looked like I'd vacated my head.

I squeezed my eyes shut real tight and reached up to put pressure on my eyes as hard as I could. Try it. We've all done it at some point.

If Wanda had anything to say at that moment, it should've been, "David, why are you under the bed?" What came out was, "Oh, look at your face. You are so red! That's what you look like when your foot is in your mouth! Where is my camera? Oh, God. New Crayolla Color: Totally Embarassed Red."

"I'm so happy for you. I'm glad I gave you the chance to laugh your head off. I'll be back in ten minutes to help you up off the floor." With a little smirk. I gave her the time she needed to get it out of her system. "Alright, alright. Jeez! Happy birthday to you."

I leaned against the counter, crossed my arms, and waited. She had tears in her eyes. What could be better than that?

"What was that!"

"You know how I am when the thoughts are flowing. Anything can come out of my mouth. We were talking about fruits and vegetables and baseballs. Then I hit on two words I never.. ever put together: Mom and Boobs. Boobs and Mom. It dredges up a memory I'd really like to get rid of. I had to go home for something. When I went in the house, I called out for her. Oh, I found her. She came down the hallway into the living room. She was stark naked! All the way. We were both mortified and I think the only time anyone uses that word is when they're talking about their parents naked."

"So, when those two words come together--Mom and Boobs--my brain pulls up this memory and puts it up there, twenty feet tall--my mother naked. My brain shut down completely. That's probably when it looked like no-one was at home. I was inside curled into a fetal ball."

"That sounds terrible but that's my new favorite color."

"Good for you. It's good to see you laugh like that, even if it was at my expense."

"OMG. I'm going to remember your face forever. One minute you were there, the next you were gone. There was no-one home. This is what I think I'm going to do. We'll be out somewhere and I'm going to lean in and whisper in your ear. You're going to expect something soft and sexy. But I'm going to whisper, 'Big Boobs and Mom. Mom and Big Boobs.' "