Family Issues Ch. 09

Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

As always, I need to thank, Stylus and Madison (ThanatopicFolds) my cool editors. This time they've made an extra effort and that's why I can post this episode so quickly.

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"Margarita was never short of money. She could buy whatever she liked. Her husband had plenty of interesting friends. Margarita never had to cook. Margarita knew nothing of the horrors of living in a shared flat. In short... was she happy? Not for a moment."

― Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

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Kevin's diving computer beeped the end of the safety stop. Helen signaled that she wished to stay for a bit and follow the three massive sea turtles that were cruising the clear water below them. Kevin slapped two fingers against his palm, asking for her air level and she answered sixty bar, rounding up.

He checked for himself, saw her bluff, and motioned for her to go up. It was frustrating because she still consumed twice as much air as he did, meaning that they limited their time underwater to her abilities. Kevin promised her that her air consumption would improve with practice, but it was happening too slowly for her. Once she dived into the blue, she was reluctant to go up. It was a weightless, noise-free world. No phones, no TV, no disturbances—just her and Kevin.

The diving instructor smiled from the deck of the Southern Jazz and tossed his head like a pendulum when they surfaced. Shawn's white smile made Helen think of sunshine. He was always smiling. "Wewillandondabeachbefore we go backtobuvaloo," he said.

"Shawn, I know you speak English, but I didn't understand a word of what you just said." Kevin helped Helen take off her fins.

"We will land on the beach before we go back to Beau Vallon." The young Seychellois instructor slowed down his speech. "Good dive?"

"Pffft." Kevin shook his head. "Good?" Joy enveloped him like a halo, and it came out with a throaty laugh. He climbed on the Southern Jazz's ladder and pulled Helen out of the water onto the divers' ledge, her entire six-foot-plus frame, soaked wetsuit, air tanks and all.

"Oh, Kev, you're so strong, so manly." She smiled. "Ooh la la."

Kevin might have bothered with a retort to her tease had he not been high on the dive. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," he jabbered, unable to contain his euphoria. "Did you see the blacktip sharks, Helen? And that octopus? Massive, I've never seen anything like it in my entire life! Freaking monster! And that ray, Jesus! I went down, and you were like, 'whaaat?' Then you went like the road runner. 'Meep, meep, zoom!' And I was like...insane. When you went head to head with that turtle, I thought you were trying to French it."

Helen laughed; Kevin's enthusiasm ignited hers.

"Diana," he shouted. "You wouldn't believe, oh my God, we saw a stingray the size of a football field."

"More like—" Helen opened her arms as wide as she could.

"The King Kong of stingrays, and I went to say hi, and Helen panicked and grabbed my fin, like the chickenshit she is, and—"

"I've read the sting can be fatal if it hits the right spot," Helen said.

"You know what?" Kevin's smile was pure bliss. "If God decides to kill me right now, then I'm absolutely cool with that. I think I've reached the summit today; it can only go downhill from here. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, for taking me to this amazing place." He circled his hands around Helen's wet body and hugged her tight, then kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

Helen was thankful that her new tan hid her blush. Lost for words for a moment, she tried what she hoped was nonchalance.

"Awesome," Diana said with the enthusiasm of a boyfriend dragged to a mall on a shopping trip. She was slouched on a bench in the bow, whose sun-faded green paint matched her cheeks' hue. The up and down sway of the boat didn't agree with her breakfast, and Kevin and Helen's enthusiastic diving bond didn't help much either.

Kevin tried to diminish his smile, to show a little empathy. "You okay?"

"Do I look like I'm fucking okay? My head is killing me."

"Did you drink enough water?"

"It didn't help."

"Well, that concludes my training as a doctor. Good luck."

"Sometimes I wonder why I even keep you around, Kev. You don't know the first thing about being a boyfriend."

"Wanna break up?" Kevin brightened.

"Babe, you'll never have someone like me."

"Yeah, that's the point, actually."

"You're super mean today, and I hate you."

Kevin sighed. He couldn't help being sympathetic. He unzipped quickly out of his wetsuit, sat down, spread a towel, and cradled her head on his knees. He then gently started massaging her temples. Diana purred and snuggled into him.

There were several Chinese and French tourists with them on the diving safari, but Kevin and Shawn clicked after ten minutes together. "Look to starboard, Kev, there's the lagoon and the beach," Shawn tapped Kevin's shoulder. "No matter how many times I come here, it is always beautiful."

As the Southern Jazz cleared the shoulder of Mahe Island, they approached a secluded shore. Black granite giants guarded the grove of palm trees and gleaming white sand. A small stream snaked and looped between the smooth cliffs and gathered into a pond at the point where the beach met the bright blue and turquoise Indian Ocean.

"At the risk of sounding like Paris Hilton, oh my God."

"We're at the north point of Mahe. The only way to get on this beach is by a boat. That's why we're alone here."

"I didn't know places like this existed. Diana, you gotta see this."

She reached out behind her, looped her hands around his neck and drew his lips to hers. Her tongue jumped and played around in his mouth. She wrestled his tongue back and forth. Kevin tried to pull himself up, but she locked him in position. When the kiss ended, she kept nuzzling him.

"Had a miraculous recovery?"

She pulled him for another kiss. Not that she was ever shy, but recently she had become more physical in public, especially around Helen.

Shawn navigated the Southern Jazz to the shallowest point before throwing the galvanized steel fluke anchor. Kevin jumped to help the crew unload. He carried boxes and equipment to shore on his slim back and helped the other divers get off the boat. Helen watched from the deck, a little envious as Kevin struggled with Diana in his arms. Her little sister didn't relish the thought of getting wet.

Helen wore a one-piece Jack Cuba bathing suit under the wetsuit. It was futanari-designed with a special patented compartment that could hide any unpleasant bulges. It gave the viewer the illusion of straight lines, even if its wearer was the best-endowed futanari girl. Diana, on the other hand, wore a regular red bikini. It sat perfectly on her heroin chic slimness except in the crotch, where there was no mistaking the fact that Diana was packing a heavy weapon. It was a bathing suit that said, 'This is me, this is the body I was born with; anyone having a problem with that can suck my big fat dick.' Helen often wondered if she'd ever feel as comfortable inside her own skin.

Two broken logs served as a makeshift table for the small group to gather around. A rainbow-colored hammock was swaying in the soft wind between nearby Borneo Tick trees, and Diana conquered it as soon as she stepped on the sand. She gave a shout of glee when she discovered that she finally had service on her iPhone.

"Diana, fun fact," Kevin said. "If you put your ear against an iPhone you can actually hear the sound of your life wasting away."

"I'm talking with Ethan; he's at the club."

Kevin twisted his mouth when he heard the name Ethan. "What time is it there anyway?"

"One a.m. The club is jumping."

"You're on vacation. You're in paradise, or at least as close as it gets."

"Just a sec, Ethan, Kevin here's kinda burning my nuts." She lifted her head. "I get it, palm trees, sand, ocean, river, big effing rocks. Very nice." She went back to her call.

"I'm so sane about you right now," he said.

"What does that mean?"

"That I'm not too crazy about you right now."

"Baby." Diana mimed a blow job, her tongue stabbing her cheek and her hand moving aggressively up and down.

"That's my girlfriend, always the lady. I'm going to sit over there and dig a hole because I feel like burying myself."

"You can sit right here, baby." Diana grabbed her crotch and wiggled it.

The French divers were looking their way, not even trying to hide their fascination. One of them sniggered. Kevin folded what little was left of his dignity, and with his face burning, he trudged to the area where the rest of the diving crew were making lunch.

Helen, who was enjoying the sunbeams on the beach, jumped to her feet when she noticed Kevin chopping vegetables. She loved watching him cook. He was in a zone when he held utensils, relaxed and focused. The knife in his hand was a blur. To an outsider, it looked like random vegetable molesting, but Helen knew that every movement was pre-planned. She joined him, helping to wash and peel, careful not to break his rhythm.

Shawn stared with a twinkle at the speed the salad materialized. "You two have had some experience in the food industry, right?"

"I used to work at my mom's restaurant, and Helen eats food. She's very experienced."

"You're saying I'm fat, Kev?"

"I wouldn't say fat, Helen. I mean you are fat, but I wouldn't say it. I'm a sensitive guy."

"Wanna die?"

"Is that a trick question?"

Diana could eat like a pig all day and remain slim as a noodle. Helen wasn't so lucky. It was a hard battle against the exquisite delicacies Kevin cooked daily. However, unlike Diana, Helen applied iron discipline to almost everything she did, including work, exercise, and food. Helen pinched her flat stomach and frowning, picked up some skin and imaginary calories between finger and thumb. "Be honest, Kev. Did I gain extra pounds lately?"

"Heck, no! You were always this fat."

"That's it, you're dead."

He dodged her punch and dashed over to the beach, Helen fast on his heels. His legs kicked white sand as he sprinted past the grove, over to the pond. He dove headfirst, half a second before Helen. She launched herself like an offensive tackle and grabbed his ankle. Kevin dolphin leaped out of the water, laughing, and she pushed his head back under, holding him down. He struggled for a few seconds. Then his body relaxed, and Helen panicked. She pulled him out, then remembered that the little faker was a free diver and could hold his breath for almost five minutes. It was too late. Kevin stuck out his tongue and paddled away. There was a palm whose crooked trunk slouched above the pond. Someone hung a rope from it, and Kevin climbed, quick as a monkey, pulling the line after him.

"You'll eventually have to come down, or we'll leave you here."

"I'm planning on staying on this shore forever, like Robinson Crusoe."

"I'm not fat, I'm slim."

"Anorexic. Eat something." Kevin threw her the rope, then frowned when she started climbing. "I'm not sure the trunk will hold."

"Did you know, Kev, new research discovered that overweight women live longer than men who point it out?"

He helped pull her up, and she crouched beside him, her long legs folded beneath her and her skin glistening. It was the end of September, but on the Seychelles Islands, the sun was up and flexing its muscles across the bright blue. After four days under the open sky, both Brion sisters showed their creole roots. Diana's skin was baked into bronze, and Helen changed from Nordic pale to rich honey brown. It was a sharp contrast to her blond locks, and it made people stare. Not that she cared. The only person whose stares she craved had his heart set on her little sister.

"So, Robinson Crusoe," she smiled. "I think I'll stay with you on the island."

"Who said you're invited?"

"Hey!" She elbowed him. "Other than Diana, if you had your pick, who would you take with you to a deserted island?"

"John Locke, to fight the Others, Gregory House in case I get this rare island disease, and Megan Fox to...to...? Who gives a fuck, she's Megan Fox."

"I was gonna say you, Kev, but now I'm changing it to Peter Dinklage, 'cause well...Peter Dinklage."

"Oh, yeah. Fuck Locke and House. Peter Dinklage all the way."

"Are you happy, Kevin?" she suddenly asked.

Helen smelled like sunblock cream and heartache. Kevin stared at the curve of her soft lips, wondering what would happen if he just reached out and touched them. He nodded.

"I'm happy," she said. "You were right. There is more to life than the way I used to live. I mean, look at this place."

He nodded again.

"I wish this vacation could last longer."

"Things have gotten complicated," Kevin's brow furrowed as he stared across the sand at Diana. She was still talking on her phone but she raised her head from time to time, watching them. "It's nice to stop the race sometimes and just put it aside for a while."

"Things have gotten complicated since you met Diana and me?"

"I think things have gotten complicated since Mom popped me out of her belly," he said. "Before that, I was doing great."

She guffawed but nodded because she could relate. "You were right about the fence. I'm always sitting on the fence, or in the backseat watching other people do things I never dared to. You were right. I was scared. I have this terminal fear of failure; I never try anything. I hate mistakes."

"Mistakes can be good sometimes; at least you learn from them."

Helen shook her head. "Not for me. Mistakes scare me. I hate mistakes."

"I'm a mistake," Kevin said.

"No, you're not."

Kevin nodded. "My mother got pregnant when she was seventeen. She had an affair with a married man, no less."

"What?"

"Yeah, I'm a mistake, Helen. Luckily for me, she was a devoted Christian. Abortion wasn't an option."

"Wait, wait, what?" She stared at him wide-eyed. "Your mother? The one with the 'What would Jesus do?' book and the righteous proverb for every occasion? Had an affair with a married man?"

"She was only seventeen. A kid."

"So what did she do?"

"She didn't want to give birth to a bastard or to be a single mother, so she married a neighbor. A thirty-five-year-old bachelor who was in love with her."

"What?"

"Funny, huh?"

"So, your father...I mean your real father...?"

"My real father is the person who raised me from birth and was always there for me. The other douche contributed an ejaculation. Any idiot can do that."

Helen tried to think fast of anything to say, but everything she came up with sounded condescending, insensitive, or stupid in her head.

"My whole life is a big, hilarious mistake."

It was the first time he'd let her inside. He knew every embarrassing secret she had because he had read her letters, but there was no equilibrium like he'd once tried to pretend. Kevin played poker in real life. The fact he could reach down and expose such a deep nerve made her wish she could reach out and blow away the dark cloud she recognized in his eyes. She had no clue how to even begin to do that.

"I would like to withdraw my former statement." She leaned and gave him a tiny kiss on his cheek. "Sometimes mistakes are awesome."

From her perch on the hammock, Diana stopped talking to Ethan, and her mouth twisted to a snarl. The kiss looked innocent enough, but it fed on her darkest fears. The little green-eyed beast was crawling out from the closet.

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"Punch a man on the nose, kick an old man downstairs, shoot somebody or any old thing like that, that's my job. But argue with women in love—no thank you!"

― Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

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Helen sipped the coffee, leaned back on the comfy chair, gazed at the sunset over the sparkling water and read another paragraph of The Master and Margarita. Life stood still, and that stillness tickled her fingertips. She took another sip and then winced. From below, a metallic sound of something heavy being dragged across the guesthouse's yard popped her tranquility bubble.

"Kevin, what are you doing down there?" she said.

"Nothing."

"Still nothing? You said you were doing nothing fifteen minutes ago."

"I'm not done doing it yet."

"Can you try doing nothing more quietly?"

"Sorry, had to clean the grill. Toss me the salt from the kitchen, please." Kevin stepped back from under the guest room's balcony so she could see him. He carried four beautiful redfish filleted on a tray. "I bought them from two fishermen here on our beach; they opened a stand right outside the villa. Two euros. Can you believe it? Whoever said Seychelles was expensive didn't know what they were talking about."

"Nice. I'll go set the table."

"I wanna go to that Indian grocery and buy some red wine."

She gave him thumbs-up and went inside, shaking her head and smiling. "I think Kevin is a hyperactive adult. Sixty minutes of a Games of Thrones episode is the longest I've ever seen him sit on his ass in one place."

Diana, who was busy applying eyeliner and checking out her new tan in the mirror, nodded and smiled right back. Helen was so terrible at reading subtext, even her own sister's. She failed to brace for the storm that lurked under that smile.

"We're moving out," Diana said.

"Yeah, we'll check out in the morning and leave our suitcases with the caretaker. Don't worry." Helen smiled. "There won't be any boats or diving tomorrow. We can't dive before a flight. We'll just hang around the beach, work on our tans, and maybe do some snorkeling. We'll be landing in Ljubljana by eleven."

"No, we're moving out of the penthouse, Kevin and I."

"What?"

"Moving out."

Helen felt the blood draining from her face. "What? What? W...why?"

"Enough is enough. You've always wanted me to be a grownup. Grownups don't live at their big sister's expense. I'm earning enough money now to rent my own place."

"What? W...why? You and Kevin don't bother me." Helen spoke fast. "If you need more room you can have the study. We can break your wall. I don't need the study."

"I want my own apartment."

"You can have apartment 3C. My tenant there is moving out in two months."

"Kevin's old dog kennel apartment downstairs?" Diana smirked. "Really?"

"I'll renovate it."

"It's tiny."

"But why pay when you can have your own apartment, rent-free?"

"My idea of moving out is not moving a few floors down."

"You're right. It's too small. You're the couple, and I'm the single. I'll move downstairs, and you two can stay in the penthouse."

Diana shook her head. "Ethan is looking for an apartment for Kevin and me north of the river, near the club."

"But, but, that's an hour and a half drive when there's no traffic." Helen felt her legs start to shake. She didn't care. "Kevin doesn't own a car; he rides his old bike. How the hell is he supposed to...?"

"Come and visit you?" Diana smirked.

"How the hell is he supposed to get to the university? To his diving club?"

"He can take the bus."

"That's crazy, Diana. You two don't bother me at all."

"He's not your boyfriend, Helen, he's mine."

"What?"

Diana turned and resumed applying her eyeliner. Helen found herself shaking uncontrollably, staring at her little sister's back. She took deep breaths for what she felt was forever; still, her voice trembled when she finally spoke. "Have I ever done anything wrong to you, Diana?"

"He's not your boyfriend, Helen."

"Kevin?"

"Don't play dumb. You're anything but dumb, and you're shit at pretending."

"Hey, look at me!"

"Or maybe you think I'm dumb?" Diana finally turned.