Rag Doll Ch. 07 - Ricky's Family 02

"I'm sorry, Ricky," so soft it was no more than a murmur, "that was wrong, what I made you do, that was wrong. I thought I had a right to pay them back, but what I did, it made me no better than them. I'm sorry, sweetie, so sorry, and the look on your face...I never want to see you look at me like that again, please never let me do something so mean ever again, promise me?"

I pulled her closer to me so I could encircle her shoulder more easily.

"No harm done, Yaz, it's OK, you were angry, you said things, mean things, but you're sorry; that's good. Look at me, look at all the mean, angry, stuff I said about...about Nicky, about Bar...my mother, I thought I had a right to say and feel all that stuff, you guys showed me how wrong I was, and now you know what you did tonight was wrong, so we're even, OK?"

Yaz cocked her head up to stare at me, a puzzled look on her face.

"Whoa, Ricky, muy profundo; where did that come from?"

I smiled at her, flicking a curl away from her face.

"From you, Yaz, you, and Shari, and your mum. I was only half awake when you guys took me in; I still don't know half what you know, but I'm learning. Give me time, and give yourself a break, OK?"

Yaz hugged me closer and gave me that lip-biting grin I found so attractive as she nestled down beside me. I plumped-up a couple of pillows and put them behind her, making ready to leave now she was in a good mood again, but she had other ideas, instead clutching my arm so I couldn't move.

"Don't leave me, Ricky, please! Just stay 'til I fall asleep, OK? This feels good, please don't leave..."

So of course I stayed; she seemed to need contact, and I could almost sense her imprinting on me, and feel her trusting me more and more. When she started yawning and her eyes began fluttering I kind of slid her down from her sitting position (without her once letting go of my arm...) and she immediately rolled against me, her head tucked in against my arm, her eyes closed and her breathing becoming slow and even.

The bedroom door inched open and Shari looked in, grinning and making the 'sleepy-pillow hands' gesture, and I nodded, returning her smile. Yaz was now fully asleep, so I carefully unwound her arm from mine and slipped off the bed so Shari could tuck her in, and we tip-toed out of the room, Shari looking her over one last time before switching off the light. Outside in the hallway, Shari took my arm when I would have made my way back down to my room, and she stood on tip-toes and kissed me on the cheek.

"Thank you, Ricky," she whispered, "she knew you'd make a difference, she was always on your side, now I know why. Goodnight, little brother."

*****

From that point on, Yaz and I seemed to have a special understanding; over the next few months it gradually got easier to understand her moods, often mercurial, sometimes melancholy, but never morose, and never angry or snappish, at least, not towards me, anyway. Shari always kept a certain 'big sister' aloofness front and centre, but Yaz was always ready to be my friend, partner in crime, and willing co-conspirator. She obviously liked hugging me, because she did it at the drop of a hat, and more than once I had to sternly remind myself that beautiful, exotic girl though she was, and nice as it felt, she was my sister first and foremost!

The fact that, when we commandeered the couch to watch TV, the way she always managed to find herself snuggled up against me, thereby making it more difficult than ever to separate-out my feelings about her played serious hob with my objectivity when it came to her but still cut no ice with the truth; attractive as she undoubtedly was, I instinctively knew anything other than big-brotherly affection was just not going to fly.

I seemed to have another, more positive effect on both of them, though, and I couldn't figure out why. Yaz and Shari loved each other dearly, but they also had some epic fights, and when they really got into it, it was like hormone bombs were going off left, right, and centre. Strangely enough, though, they never fought with me; if I suggested something, or threw out a compromise, Yaz immediately agreed with it, and Shari gave in to me, sometimes indulgently, possibly because she was humouring her kid brother, but the fact remains, for some reason I never had a fight or more than a very minor disagreement with either of them; it was like my field overlapped and tempered both of theirs enough that they got me and gave in without a struggle.

Even Ayesha noticed how I interacted with my sisters; her smile when she spoke to me was more than just as the lady whose house I lived in. I in turn found her increasingly easier to approach and talk to; any residual guilt and embarrassment on my part over who I was had long since vanished, and she actually seemed interested in me as her daughters' brother, and a member of this family. It took a while to seep into my consciousness, but I slowly began to realise she was gradually coming to mean more to me than just being my sisters' mother, and that pulled me up short. In a strange, and not unpleasant way at all, I began to see her as more than just the lady who'd let me live with them, although I still was confused as to how I was actually perceiving her when it came to her and me.

It all finally worked itself out one night, as I was lying in bed pondering my situation and what came next, when it literally hit me like a bolt from the blue; Ayesha wasn't just being nice to me because I was her daughters' half-brother, or because I had no-one else; she was treating me just like she did Shari and Yaz; she was actually making no distinction between me and her daughters. Instead, she was treating me exactly like a family member; she fed me, housed me, clothed me, she trusted me and she never went out of her way to let me know how much I owed her; she was acting like I was one of her children, and it was then I finally understood that she was for real mothering me, she was as close to being my mother as made no difference, and she felt it just as I did. Just like Yaz had imprinted on me, so I'd imprinted on her mother, and now she really was my mother.

This was too much to try and get straight, and the way my head was in turmoil, I wasn't going to get to sleep anytime soon, so I decided to go make a mug of hot chocolate and a snack while I thought about it. I cat-footed upstairs to the kitchen, no sense in waking the entire household, but the light was on in the lounge, so I popped my head in and saw Ayesha curled up on the couch, watching the late news. She looked up and saw me, so I made the universal 'cup of tea?' gesture, and she smiled and nodded.

"The Oolong, please, Ricky," she smiled, "and there's a packet of Jaffa Cakes in the cupboard, if Yaz hasn't already found them, bring that through as well, will you?"

I made her a tall glass of tea the way she liked it, Oolong leaf with a stick of cinnamon, a sprig of fresh mint, a teaspoon of honey, and a couple of crushed cardamom pods, and brought it back with the chocolate orange snacks and my mug of chocolate.

We drank our hot drinks in silence, but Ayesha never took her eyes off me, she just sipped the aromatic tea and watched me, but it seemed like a compassionate gaze rather than idle curiosity. Eventually, she put her glass down on the tea-table next to her and smiled at me.

"So Ricky, what's troubling you at this time of night? You're sitting there drawn tight, something's up. What's wrong?"

I didn't even know where to start, so I just waffled and rambled, making no real sense, conscious of her keen gaze on me the whole time, until eventually I just dried up.

Ayesha pulled her robe closer around herself and patted the couch next to her.

"Come here, Ricky, sit here with me. I think we need to talk." she smiled, so I did as she asked. When I was seated comfortably, she took my hand.

"Ricky, first of all, let me say how glad I am you came to us. Shari and Yaz, and me too, we want you to know that since you've been here with us, we've realised how much you mean to us; these last few months have been a real eye-opener for all of us; you joined us, and suddenly our family feels complete. Yasmin and Shereen already feel like you've always been part of us, they're your family, and you're ours. You're with family too, now, for real and always, remember that.

Her eyes unfocused for a second, and her lips moved, like she was rehearsing something to say, but then she snapped back to the here and now and interlaced her fingers with mine.

"One thing you should always remember, Richard Davies, Ricky; when it comes to family, it's not about who gave birth to whom, it's about how you care about those closest to you, about what you do to keep your loved ones safe, close, and happy; it's about taking care of those who mean the most to you, it's about including them in, and sharing with them the things that mean the most to you, that's what family is. Family isn't defined by some dots on a DNA chart, not some words on a piece of paper. They say you can choose your friends, but your family's thrust upon you, but really, that's just not true; you DO get to choose your family, you DO get to choose who means the most to you, and you DO get to love and protect the ones you know and believe are your real family."

She patted our conjoined hands and smiled at me again.

"Every time you talk, and laugh with, and help your sisters I see how true that is; you're always the peacemaker, and your sisters know you won't take sides, that's why they trust you. That's why I want to say now, and for you to know, that you Ricky Davies, are with your family now for real. Ever since you came to us we've watched the efforts you've made to fit in with us, and the way you care for your sisters, we've all come to trust and love you very much. I need you to know that we're so proud of you, of the changes you've made in yourself, and of the things you do for this family. There will always be a place at our table for you, Ricky, because you're one of us now, an important part of the family, our family, and we look after our own."

I just sat with my mouth open; of all the things she could have said to me, it was the most unexpected of all; it literally came at me out of nowhere, I was totally gobsmacked, and this sudden revelation of how they felt about me completely threw me for a loop. All I could do was sit there with my mouth hanging open, trying desperately to understand this wonderful thing that was happening to me. I wanted to say so much, so many things, but all that came out was a kind of disjoined stammering.

"It's...umm...I...are you...what...?" was the best I could manage, but then it suddenly didn't matter, because Yaz and Shari were there hugging me and kissing my cheek and babbling fit to bust too, while Ayesha smiled at me as her eyes brimmed.

"Once again, Ricky Davies, welcome to your family!"

*

Life kind of rambled on for me; I seemed to spend a lot of time going shopping with one or the other of the girls, everything from grocery shopping to mall-raiding, and I was starting to notice a pattern. When I went out with Shari, she always wrapped her arm through mine, and piloted me though coffee shops and boutiques, chatting but never being TOO chatty; it was like she was simultaneously teaching me how to shop while showing me how to navigate Mall-space, and at the same time reminding me that she was the older one here, and I was kid sibling. Not that I minded; being seen with a seriously hot, exotic girl like her did wonders for my ego, believe me!

Shopping with Yaz couldn't have been more different; for one thing, she always held my hand, she never just linked arms with me, and she laughed and chattered and tugged me from place to random place on a whim. In supermarkets she played dodgems with the shopping carts and stood on the rail pointing out aisles she wanted to go down, or sat on the front section as I pushed her around the store, chucking groceries and snacks and any treats she thought I'd like into the cart while chattering about everything and nothing, or making me stretch up to get top-shelf items then tickling me when my hands were full and I couldn't fight back.

We be sat on mall seats or the rim of fountains eating ice cream cones and she'd say 'quick, look over there!' and when I did she'd suddenly dab my nose with her ice cream and giggle uncontrollably, or she'd drag us into fast food places and talk endlessly while loading up on French Fries and cheeseburgers, nuggets, anything that took her fancy, then suddenly I'd be in a boutique with her while she paraded around in a succession of crazy outfits, hoping to make me laugh at the sheer absurdity or ugliness of some of them.

If she was tired and there was only limited seating available in the busy malls, she'd push me into the first free seat and plop herself down on my lap with her arm around my neck without a second thought. Add to that the longing, envious looks I'd be getting from other men as they ogled her and the way it made her laugh happily usually made my day. Yaz was definitely the fun one.

In the house, it was just as...odd, but a very nice kind of odd; when we sat in the lounge and watched TV together, all three of us sprawled on the couch while Ayesha sat in her armchair, somehow Yaz would end up tucked against me, and if she thought I was being too serious or intent on a particular programme, she'd poke me in my side right in the ticklish spot just to make me jump, then demand hot chocolate or a cup of tea and snacks, and suddenly we'd be making mugs of hot drinks and carting around piles of toast and jars of jam and peanut butter and packets of chocolate biscuits. I can't count the number of times I dozed off in front of the TV with her leaning against me, snapping awake with a dead arm only when Ayesha ruffled my hair and pointed at Yaz fast asleep against me, with Shari curled up asleep on the other side of the couch.

At breakfast time, a kind of ritual developed between the two of us; Yaz would make a pot of tea, and a cafetiere of coffee, while I made a stack of hot, buttered toast, with a proper three-minute boiled egg for Shari, and scrambled egg on toast for Ayesha. Then, while Shari drank her tea and dipped her toast in her egg, Yaz and I would work our way through a pile of toast and a pot of marmalade, something she loved and I learned to love, and Shari absolutely hated. Toast and marmalade became our thing, our connection.

Downstairs in the rec room it was more of the same; if I was relaxing in my room after doing my chores and getting the place spic and span, the intercom would go off and Yaz would ask if wanted to watch TV. Of course I'd say yes, next thing I knew she'd be bounding down the stairs with a big tin of chocolate biscuits and a six pack of cokes under one arm, and a duvet and pillows under the other, she'd make up the couch as an extravagant nest with the pillows and duvet from my bed too, and then the two of us would watch horror movies or her favourite rubbishy 'Hallmark' romances on the big screen TV down there. When Shari came in she'd join us, and I'd spend the evening with two beautiful girls screaming, hiding their eyes and clutching me, or huddling up against me sighing and weeping happily while I held the box of Kleenex they'd go through. It was a closeness I'd never had with anyone, and I ate it up.

Yaz was definitely handsy with me, though, enough that I was having serious issues with remembering she was my sister, even though nothing inappropriate had happened at all. Yet.

But, there was no getting away from the fact that she was hot; even ignorant, sheltered, isolated me knew that much, and added to that the fact she couldn't seem to keep her hands off me and monopolized my every free moment only deepened my sense that what I was feeling was very wrong. It didn't help that she'd come in from working a half-day at Ayesha's property company and immediately call out for me, and when I came running, asking 'what, what's wrong?' she'd give me that sweet, cheeky grin of hers and tell me 'Nothing, Ricky, I missed you all day and I just wanted to see you!'

This was shaping up to be something bad, I could tell, but I didn't know what, or what to do about it; tell Shari? Somehow I didn't think she'd be sympathetic to my thoughts and feelings, confused as they were, about her kid sister. Tell Ayesha? My skin actually crawled at the thought of what she'd do to me if she thought I was having improper thoughts about my sister, seeing as who my father was. I had to face it; I was in a jam, here...

The climax to all this literally came out of left-field and caught me completely on the hop. Ayesha had finally convinced me that if I was going to be her son, then I should be calling her 'mum'; after all the time I'd spent living with her, and the significant changes in our relationship, it seemed almost disrespectfully formal to keep calling her 'Miss Ayesha', especially since she had told me more than once that it was OK to call her 'mum'. So 'mum' she became, and that's where the changes came in. She asked me to help her clear up after breakfast one morning, and I saw the quick eye-rolls she gave the girls, so I guessed she wanted to talk in private. I was right.

"Ricky, I keep getting the feeling you're feeling at a loose end, that you want to be doing something, not just whiling away the days doing nothing; that's kind of my fault, though; I like having you around to talk to, so I never asked you what you wanted, so am I right? Are you bored?"

She gave me a questioning look, and I nodded; that was indeed how I was feeling, like some kind of eternal houseguest who came for a visit and never left, just kept hanging around sponging off these good people and taking advantage of their kindness. She slipped her arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer so I could lean against her, a close contact I really liked, if I'm being totally honest here.

"Look, I know you think you don't know anything, but I think you could. How would you like to work with the girls? This is a family business, we all have proper jobs and areas we stick to, would you like to learn what we do? We'd love to have you join the family firm. Yaz is a natural negotiator when it comes to dealing with contractors and local authorities, student housing committees, that kind of thing, while Shari has a really good handle on the local property market; perhaps you could spend some time with both girls, maybe take some time to find out where you fit in, and go with it?"

I was stunned; she was offering me a job, and of course I jumped at it; I didn't even ask her if I was going to get paid, it never even occurred to me to ask, because I actually didn't need money at all; all my needs were being taken care of by my family, and I didn't know what I'd spend money on anyway, because the girls and Ayesha kept buying me things. The thought of finally being useful instead of just being some useless, freeloading drone spending my days reading, lounging around, or chatting with mum and waiting for the girls to come home lifted my spirits tremendously; I'd actually gotten to the point where I was getting up at the crack of dawn and working out before cleaning the house top to bottom every day just to keep myself occupied, just as I had back in my old life; anything that got me away from that was a good thing, in my book.

"Go and rest, son, it's your last chance!" she grinned, so I made us both a cup of tea and disappeared down into my room to watch TV. I must have dozed off with the TV on, because next thing I knew, Yaz had landed on top of me, jarring me awake and knocking the wind out of me, but she didn't seem to notice, in her excitement, instead she bounced on me a few more times to shake me fully awake, then slid down next to me and hugged me, hard.