Sibling Rivalry

Part 1

Quentin wasn't expecting a call from his father during work. Since he'd left home, he and his parents had spoken on the weekends at regular times scheduled in advanced. His sisters messaged or called him whenever, but his parents tended to be really intentional about when they called and what they called for. Fearing it was some sort of emergency, Quentin excused himself from the set and moved to an empty office.

"Dad?" he asked.

"Hey kiddo," his father said. "I've got a big favor to ask."

"What's up?" Quentin asked.

"The house in Tennessee finally sold, but your mom and I are stuck in Maine for the next two weeks, there's a big legal battle over some property we're trying to acquire and we're not allowed to leave the state. I was hoping you and your sisters could fly down to Tennessee and move everything into storage before Friday. I already talked to Candace, and she said she would do it if you and Emily do it, I asked Emily and she said she'd do it if you did it. You're the linchpin."

"No pressure," Quentin said, dryly. "You sold Grandpa Bill's house? I didn't even realize it was up for sale."

"Have you seen the market?" his dad asked. "We're offloading as many properties as we can while the forge is hot."

"Are you at least giving people a decent price?"

"Real estate is an investment, Quentin."

Quentin sighed and shook his head.

"I see that nothing has changed since I left," Quentin said. "Let me talk to Emily and Candace and I'll call you back."

"Hey, Quentin," one of his coworkers said, opening the door to the empty office. "We need you back in the control booth, show's about to start."

"After work," Quentin added to his father.

"Your mom says she loves you," his dad said.

"I love you guys, too," Quentin said, hanging up the phone. "Even if you are money grubbing snakes."

Quentin returned to the control booth and put on his headphones, adjusting sound levels for a late night news report. He wasn't really needed in the booth, but if there were an emergency and he didn't catch it, there would be hell from the studio. The reporters and guests all recorded their parts, Quentin making small adjustments behind the scenes. When it was over, the director gave the signal and the camera and mics were turned off.

"Hey boss," Quentin said, taking off his headphones. "You got a minute?"

"What's up?" his boss asked, walking over to the sound board without looking up from his clipboard.

"My dad wants me back in Tennessee this week. I might have to cash in some of my vacation days. You cool with that?"

"What's your vacation day count at?" his boss asked.

"Three weeks, last I checked," Quentin said.

His boss whistled. Their vacation days were capped at four weeks, so they had to use up their vacation hours or lose them.

"You better use some of those up before you go over," his boss said. "We've got a new guy in editing, we can get him cross trained on the sound board and he can take your place while you're gone. Take a week or three, let me know when you're on the way back."

"Thanks, boss," Quentin said. "I'll put in a request with HR tonight if it happens."

Quentin took the metro to his neighborhood, then walked the last few blocks to his studio apartment. He tossed his jacket over the back of his computer desk chair and sat down. He had a few more odd jobs to edit down before he was done for the day, private jobs for private clients. He finished one, and let it render to video.

He made himself a cup of tea and called his younger sister.

"Hey!" Emily answered. "I was hoping I'd hear from you."

"So, Tennessee," Quentin said.

"Fucking Tennessee, right?" she asked. "They just sold Grandpa Bill's house without asking any of us? What is that?"

"Dad said you'll go if I go?"

"You're my north star," Emily said. "If you're in, I'm in."

"I feel bad about it," Quentin said. "We're just moving all of the old family stuff into storage so some randos can come live in Grandpa's house."

"But you're going to go."

"Yeah, I'm going to go," Quentin said.

"Then I'm in too," Emily said. "I can't wait to see you again."

"It'll be good to see you, too," Quentin said.

There was an awkward pause on the other end of the line, and Quentin wasn't sure if he said something wrong or if Emily was waiting to say something.

"Hey, I'm gonna go pack," Emily said. "I love you, I'll see you soon."

"I love you, I'll see you soon."

Quentin drank his tea, edited another video, then let it render. He thought about his younger sister. She had been his favorite growing up. He always felt like they had such a good energy together, he always had time for her and she always had time for him. Sometimes she would even sneak over to his bedroom late at night and they'd watch movies on his laptop until they fell asleep. Their mother had caught them once, coming into Quentin's room in the morning to collect laundry, noticing a girl's hand down the side of his bed. She yelled at Quentin about having a girl over, how he was too young. Her voice lowered and her cheeks reddened as she realized it was Emily and that they were both fully clothed.

"Sorry, mom," Emily told her. "We weren't doing anything. I don't even know if Quentin has done anything."

"I don't think I can answer that," Quentin said. "We were just watching movies."

"I see," their mother said, trying to appear calm. "I'm sorry I yelled then."

Candace peaked her head in from the door.

"Were they doing it?" she asked their mom.

"Candace, that is not an appropriate question. Everyone just calm down. All of you are too young to do anything, nothing happened, let's all just forget about it."

Candace disappeared into the hallway.

"Emily," their mom said. "Please. It's time to go to your room, sweetie."

Emily rolled out of bed and went back to her bedroom.

Their mother sat down at the foot of Quentin's bed.

"I know that you're still young, and you probably don't need to hear this yet. But soon you're going to start thinking about girls in a different way. Sometimes guys have desires that override their sense and sensibilities. I'd love it if I never had to worry about you doing something inappropriate in this bed, in this house, or with either of your sisters."

Quentin nodded.

"You got it, mom. I don't think you have to worry about that."

It was the end of the work day and Quentin sent off the last of his videos. He picked up his phone one more time and called his older sister.

Both physically and personality wise, Candace and Emily were very different. Candace was tall and slender, while Emily was shorter and plumper. Candace wore dark, fashionable clothing, while Emily wore whatever colorful and comfortable clothes she could find at the thrift store. And where Emily was very loving, Candace showed love in her own way.

"Hey brat," Candace said.

"Hey princess," Quentin said. "Emily and I are going to Tennessee, we wanted to see if you wanted to join."

"Of course you already talked to Emily," she scoffed. "Yeah, I told dad if you two were going, I was going, so I'm in."

"Cool," Quentin said. "It'll be nice to see you two again."

"You don't have to act like you're excited to see me, I know you and Emily are just going to do your own thing anyway."

"Candace," Quentin said. "It's the first time we'll have been together since we all left home. I don't want to fight."

"It's not a fight," Candace said. "I'll see you brats soon."

She hung up before Quentin could respond.

Quentin made another cup of tea, sat down at his desk and watched some vids until it was time for his therapy appointment. He got into the digital waiting room and after a few minutes was welcomed into his therapist's virtual room.

"I think I made a mistake," Quentin said.

"What kind of mistake?" the therapist asked.

"I agreed to spend a week in the same house with my sisters."

The therapist nodded and wrote something down on her paper pad.

"Why do you think that's a mistake?" the therapist asked.

"You already know."

"I'd like to hear you say it," the therapist said.

"I'm attracted to them," Quentin said. "I think they're the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I dream about kissing them, holding them down and fucking them until they cum for me over and over again, until they're addicted to my cock. I fantasize about marrying them and being with them in some kind of weird incest polycule marriage..."

"Let's not use the W word, please," the therapist said.

"I've got all of these things in my head, and I'm going to have to deal with being in the same house with them for a week."

"You've been dealing with your maladaptive affections for a long time," the therapist said. "You have strategies for coping with them, you know that they're not appropriate, and you have the will not to act on them. I think a week with your sisters can do you a lot of good."

"If I can resist confessing my love for them," he said.

"Which I have every confidence that you can," the therapist said.

While Quentin was speaking with his therapist, Emily's phone was ringing.

"Hey slut," Candace said when Emily picked up.

"Hey bitch," Emily said back. "You finally working up the nerve to tell Quentin how you feel about him?"

"You're one to talk," Candace said. "I'm not the one practically throwing myself at him. I bet you've got a whole wardrobe of slutty clothes picked out to seduce him with while we're in Tennessee."

"I don't need slutty clothes, I'm not a total ass to him every time I talk to him. That's why when I tell him that I've been in love with him since before I can remember, he's going to fall for me."

"Keep dreaming," Candace said. "When I tell him that I've loved him since before you were born, he's going to fall for me."

"Run from you, more likely," Emily said. "You're too mean to him. You've got to be gentle and loving with him or he's not going to want to be around you. Why do you think he left in the first place?"

"You're too soft with him," Candace almost shouted at her younger sister. "And for your information, he left because mom was getting neurotic about you two having an 'inappropriate' relationship or whatever."

"God, you're insufferable," Emily said. "I love you, I'll see you soon, try not to be a cunt!"

Candace went to respond, but the phone had already disconnected.

Emily and Candace sat down on their beds in different parts of Chicago, Candace looking out her high rise windows at the lake, Emily looking into the alleyway behind her Jefferson Park apartment.

"Fucking family," Emily said.

"Fucking family," Candace said.

Part 2

Quentin grabbed a bus to the airport, got a flight down to Nashville, rented a car and drove out to his grandfather's old house in the middle of nowhere. It was an old two story farmhouse style home, with fading white paint and creaky porch stairs. An orbweaver spider made webs at the edge of the porch. Two bedrooms and bathrooms downstairs, three bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs, a huge living room and dining room and kitchen. Land as far as he could see. Once upon a time, his mom had been a little girl here, running around with her brothers and sisters, his aunts and uncles, his grandparents raising them. Accidents on the porch stairs, birthdays celebrated at the table, arguments over Thanksgiving dinner. So much history and memory.

Quentin still had his key, attached to a House of Blues Nashville keychain, so he let himself in.

He took his luggage up to one of the second floor rooms, peaking through the house. It was very much the same as it had been when Grandpa Bill died, most of the furniture and fixtures untouched. He dropped off his luggage and went downstairs to the kitchen. The fridge was empty, but the cabinet was full of soups and canned foods. Quentin recalled Grandpa Bill telling a story about getting snowed in as a child, of running low on food as it was the off season, of his brothers and sisters going hungry. He always tried to keep at least a week's worth of food in the cabinet, just in case.

Quentin pulled a notepad from one of the kitchen drawers and wrote: 1: Head into town and grab some food and drinks for the week 2: Rent a truck and storage unit

He heard the front door open and close.

"Anyone home?" Candace called.

"In the kitchen!" Quentin called back.

Candace came around the corner and Quentin felt the breath leave his body. Her hair was pulled back and styled in waves, dyed black, wearing a long pink jacket with black buttons over a cream colored top and a black miniskirt. Quentin thought she looked like a model.

"Hey brat," she said.

"Hey princess," he responded. "You're a little overdressed, don't you think?"

"We can't all wear jeans and t-shirts the rest of our lives," she said. "But these are just my traveling clothes."

"Gotta look slay for the TSA?" Quentin asked.

"Shut the fuck up," Candace said. "Which room did you take?"

"Aunt Callie's."

"I'll take Uncle Ash's then," she said.

He heard her luggage rolling across the floor, then silence, then a thump as she dropped it at the top of the stairs.

Quentin went to the living room and tried to turn on the television, but the cable and internet had both been disconnected. He went to the cabinet under the television and found an old rack of DVDs, but they were all children's' movies from when Candace, Quentin, and Emily had been young. Quentin went to the bookshelf instead and browsed for awhile, before grabbing an old leather-bound copy of Mark Twain stories.

He kicked his shoes off and lay down on the couch, and was reading when the front door opened again.

Emily stepped in and Quentin felt his chest tighten again. Emily was wearing cream-colored shorts with a matching short-sleeve button up shirt tied in a knot in front of her, leaving the bottom of her belly exposed. Quentin felt like he was staring at an angel.

Emily turned her head and saw Quentin looking at her, and then she was off, running across the floor like an excited puppy, leaping onto Quentin and hugging him close.

"There's my favorite brother," Emily said.

"I'm your only brother," Quentin said.

His arms wrapped around her back and squeezed, and she had to stop herself from moaning.

"That too," she said with a smile, tapping him on the nose. "It's so good to see you in person again."

"It's good to see you," he said.

"Are you two gonna make out?" Candace asked from the bottom of the stairs. She had changed into a pair of leggings and a loose crop top that ended above her belly button.

Emily rolled her eyes and rolled off of her brother.

"Hey bitch," Emily said.

"Hey slut," Candace said. "How was your flight?"

"You'd know if you'd flown out with me instead of insisting on going on your own," Emily said.

"It was quieter traveling alone," Candace said.

Emily shook her head.

"Anyway," she said. "It's good to see you in person, Candace."

"Right," Candace said. "So what's the plan, we pack up a room, order a pizza, start a bonfire in the backyard and sing Kumbaya?"

"No pizza place is going to deliver out here," Quentin said. "We'll have to go into town and grab some food, unless you want something that comes from a can. There's also no internet or cable, so we should grab some DVDs or CDs or something."

"I'm down for the bonfire," Emily said. "I'll walk away if anyone starts singing Kumbaya though."

"We could get stuff for s'mores," Quentin suggested.

"Would her highness join us for some s'mores?" Emily asked.

Candace rolled her eyes.

"I don't really eat chocolate. Or marshmallows. But I could make a hot cocoa and hang out, if I was invited."

"You're always invited," Quentin said. "We want you there."

Candace's mouth twitched in what could almost qualify as a smile.

"Add cocoa to the list then," she said.

"The ice queen has a heart," Emily said. "Who knew?"

They negotiated a grocery list of low carb foods for Candace, easy to cook foods for Quentin, and fresh ingredients for Emily.

"I'm making breakfast for us all tomorrow," Emily said. "And you two better like it."

Emily had been a professional chef at a mid-sized restaurant for a few years now. She might never be on the cover of a culinary magazine, but she was a damn good chef.

"We'll let you handle groceries then," Candace said.

"What are you two going to do?" Emily asked.

"Candace is going to drive me over to the truck rental and storage place so I can get a truck and rent a storage unit," Quentin said. "Then she's going to stop at that entertainment shop and find something for entertainment."

"Assuming the entertainment shop is still there and that they actually have anything entertaining," Candace said.

"You know I kind of like your wit when you're not using it to insult us," Emily said.

"Don't worry, I'll get back to you in turn," Candace said.

Emily left first, backing her rental car down the long driveway, pulling back onto the road, then gunning it down the twisting riverside toward town. Candace and Quentin watched her off.

"I can't believe she still throws herself at you like that," Candace said.

"I like it," Quentin said.

"You would," Candace said. "Get in the car, we can talk and drive at the same time."

When they were both in the car and Quentin had buckled his seat-belt, Candace hit the gas, tugged the steering wheel, circled the car around and peeled off.

"So how's work?" Candace asked.

"It's work and I'm good at it," Quentin said. "Best video editor and projection engineer in New York."

"New York's a big city," Candace said.

"That's how good I am," Quentin said. "How's your job?"

"I hate it," Candace said. "I thought working legal in a big company was going to be like challenging and rewarding, but it's mostly playing dress up and showing up to meetings. I had to tell a client that he was proposing fraud the other day and I thought he was going to firebomb my office. I get paid a lot of money to keep a really nice wardrobe so my male coworkers can try to look up my skirt or down my shirt when I gather papers off my desk."

"Why do you stay?" Quentin asked.

"Gotta get my five years in," Candace said. "Then I can open my own consulting firm and be my own boss."

"And how many more years do you have?"

Candace held up three fingers.

"That doesn't sound worth it."

"It could be," Candace said.

"If?" Quentin asked.

She didn't respond.

"Are you ever going to let me in?" Quentin asked.

"I don't know," Candace said. "I want to. It's just, after you and Emily got old enough to be friends with each other, it always felt like you never had time to be friends with me."

Candace took a turn.

"Uh, the truck rental place is back that way," Quentin said.

"Yeah, but if you're going to make me talk about my feelings, I'm getting a shaved ice from that little shack by the gas station."

She pulled into the little shack by the gas station where two highschoolers were painting their nails.

"One sugar free rainbow and one black cherry," Candace said curtly.

One of the high schoolers jumped up and made the cones, handing them out the window as the other took Candace's money.

"You want your change?" the girl asked, but Candace was already stepping on the gas and pulling away.

"You remembered my favorite flavor?" Quentin asked, looking down at his black cherry shaved ice.

"Don't seem so surprised, I'm still your big sister," Candace said.

"Wait, are you saying that all this time you've been pushing us away because you were like jealous of the connection that Emily and I have?"

"That's closer to being it," Candace said.

"Well what is it?"

"You're smart, you'll figure it out one of these decades," Candace said. "Probably."

She pulled to a stop in front of the truck rental and storage place.