Sisters, by Any Other Names

"Right here," Sam said, opening up her palm. She'd found shorts with pockets -- a huge coup, I'm told. Maxine certainly thought she'd performed a minor magic trick. She examined the rounded-square piece of chocolate for a moment, then gave a little huff, as if to say, "Challenge accepted." She plucked it from Sam's hand with two fingers and stuck it in her mouth.

Sam gave me a look -- not triumph, but wide-eyed concern. We'd be planning on cutting it up into quarters; it had even been shaped in such a way as to suggest it. "You know what," Sam said, "I was so excited to see you that I plum forgot my own. Will, would you be a dear and go get it for me? It should be right near those quarters I was going to put in the change bucket."

"Of course, ma'am," I said. I scurried off to the kitchen to cut Sam a piece of another edible. As I left, I heard Maxine putting on airs.

"Hmm, interesting," she mused. "They definitely went all-in on the butter crème, which was a good choice given the lack of sugar. A single note of... cinnamon, I want to say? Oh, and that was sea salt on top!"

I broke off a quarter of the edible, then scanned around the kitchen. Sam had four more glasses ready to go, so I grabbed one. I hurried back to her, offering up the chocolate. She snatched it and stuffed it in her mouth before Maxine could notice just how much smaller it was. She'd wanted to start the trip together. She chomped on it aggressively, trying to play catch-up.

"Mmmm," she said as she swallowed. "I think you're right. You always did have a sensitive palette."

Maxine washed down her chocolate with the last of her mimosa. "Mmmm," she agreed, "although sometimes when you're traveling, it can be a double-edged sword."

"Well that's not going to be a problem today," Sam said. "Fresh vegetables, organic dips and hummus, and very healthy lunch and dinner menus. Your palette is in good hands."

"I'll drink to that!" Maxine said, raising her empty glass. She looked at it, disappointed. "Oh dear."

I deftly moved in, offering up the fresh glass and taking the empty one.

Maxine looked impressed. "Well now," she said. "I think I'm going to like it here."

"Cheers!" Sam said again. She clinked her half-empty glass with Maxine's new, full one, and they both took a swig.

"Okay," Sam said, suddenly changing tone. "Very serious issue. I'm afraid, valued guest, that you are entirely overdressed."

"Well," Maxine countered, "it was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment idea. We'll have to make do."

Sam smiled. She tried to keep it friendly, not devious. I briefly wondered if I was seeing the same thing Maxine was. "Not so, sis," she said. "Our facility has spa-appropriate accoutrement available for the low rental fee of zero dollars and zero cents."

"Wait, what?" Maxine asked. "Are you serious? Did you... go shopping? For me? You hate shopping."

That's what I'd thought, too, before the previous day's outing.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sam brazenly, obviously lied. "We're a very serious establishment. We're prepared for all eventualities as a matter of course." Then she broke character -- worried, perhaps, that Maxine was getting too weirded out. "Come on, sis. Let's all be lazy bums together. It'll be fun."

"Well, you two certainly do look... comfortable," she said. She gave me the once over before looking back at Sam.

"We are!" Sam agreed. "And you should be too. Come on, I'll take you to the locker room. It looks like a bedroom. It's a branding thing."

Maxine, looking even more out of sorts than before, made to hand me her half-full glass.

"Nah, take it with you," Sam said. "Come on; Will doesn't need to be right in the locker room, now, does he?" She didn't phrase it quite as a rhetorical question.

"Oh," Maxine said. "Oh! No, of course not. Yes, he can stay here -- should stay here. Um, bye for now?"

I tried not to laugh. Sam led Maxine to our bedroom, turning around to wink at me before closing the door behind them.

I made myself useful in the kitchen, rinsing the glass, making another mimosa, and preparing a tall glass of ice water with lemon. That was per Sam's instructions, too: I'm the pusher. You're the carer.

I took another mimosa and the water out to the living room, placing them on coasters on the coffee table in front of the sofa. I'd just sat down on one of the swivel chairs to either side when I heard the bedroom door open again. I immediately wondered what I'd missed; I knew Sam would tell me eventually, but the idea of the two of them getting Maxine undressed and redressed was tickling my brain -- and other places, too.

The two of them came into the living room with empty glasses in their hands. Sam looked triumphant; Maxine looked a little embarrassed and shy, but I could tell that the mimosas were already eroding her inhibitions. The older sister's platinum-blonde hair was up in a ponytail, and the earrings were gone. She was wearing sweatpants and socks -- plus one of my old T-shirts, which was merely too big for her, rather than hilariously oversized, as it would've been on Sam.

Sam's eyes were sparkling; I knew getting her sister into that T-shirt was a huge victory for her, over and above getting her to change clothes at all. I resisted the urge to shake my head; everything just seemed to work out for her. She was a smart schemer, but a lucky one, too. For that reason alone, I knew Maxine was braless. I couldn't know; the T-shirt was too big. I knew, though. I knew because Sam was just that lucky.

"Wow," I said, per my general's orders. It wasn't even a lie, really. Maxine looked good, and, even more than the clothes, it was the buzz that was building inside of her. It was the fact that she was, ironically, letting her hair down in front of me for the very first time. It took me a second, but I even noticed that her face looked different. When she blushed at the compliment, I realized that Sam had convinced her to wash off some of her makeup.

She walked towards the couch with a shy smile, putting her head down to hide it from me. I leaned back into my chair, not wanting to crowd her. That was Sam's job. The two girls sat down next to each other, and Sam might as well have been glued to her older sister's side.

"I thought you might like to cool off and mix things up," I said, pointing towards the ice water with lemon. "If you'd like the mimosa instead, though, I can always go whip up another for Sam."

"Aw," Maxine said. "He's so sweet." She made as if to look at me, but couldn't quite manage it. She found Sam's eyes instead; they were safer -- or so she thought.

"He is," Sam agreed. "He's going to take good care of you today."

"Of us, you mean," Maxine said.

Sam rolled her eyes. "No, he's going to toss me outside like a sack of crap and make you his girlfriend instead, Maxine." She rubbed her sister's leg and planted a kiss on her shoulder. "Of course, 'us.' We're doing this together."

"Potty mouth!" Maxine exclaimed.

"Oh no, that means I'm getting you all dirty!" Sam replied, and kissed Maxine's shoulder a few more times in rapid succession.

Maxine playfully swatted her away, then caught sight of the veggie platter. "Oooh," she said. "Very nice. Is it okay if I grab some?"

"No, you'll ruin-"

"Of course it is, Maxine," I said, interrupting Sam's next sarcastic salvo. "You'll have to forgive my boss. The alcohol goes straight to her head. She gets very sassy. You don't need to ask permission while you're here. Our house -- er, spa - is your spa."

"It's true," Sam said. "I get sassy. He has to keep in me line. Sometimes he even has to spank me." She clapped her hand over her mouth and pretended to be embarrassed. I saw her eyes scanning her sister intently, though. I didn't dare look over. Apparently, Sam liked what she saw. I fought the curiosity and stayed focused on my devious girlfriend.

"Okay, I think somebody's cut off for a while," I said wryly. "Maxine, we can have lunch any time you want, or just skip it entirely. You do whatever makes you happy. And if this little imp gets to be too much for you, just say the word, and I'll put her in a time out."

"No!" Sam pleaded. "It's sister time! I'll be good... ish."

I finally looked over at Maxine to see where she was at. She seemed fine, though she did blush a bit when she noticed me noticing her. "I think I can handle my little sister," she said, "but thank you, Will. So, I'm assuming you had something planned for before lunch?"

"Well," I said, "we have some board games and card games if you've any interest, but most Sundays Sam and I just veg out and read books, or catch up on all the TV and movies we didn't get to watch during the week. I think Sam actually put together some suggestions."

"Or you could have a massage," Sam suggested. "We are a spa, after all. Ooh! Or you could do both! You could stretch out right here on the sofa, and Will could give you one of his awesome foot rubs. We can put on the TV while you're getting pampered."

"But what would you be doing?" Maxine asked.

"I'd be your pillow, silly!" she replied. "Well, a pillow would be your pillow, but it'd be on my lap. And I can give you a nice scalp massage while Will works on your feet -- and I can feed you little snacks whenever you want. You can be like one of those Roman emperors on their weird couches."

I didn't make any move to get up off my swivel chair; I stayed relaxed, letting Maxine consider her options. She looked back and forth between the two of us; I was sure I was getting some look looks, plus some guilt and embarrassment. Sam was getting a lot more skepticism; Maxine was trying to figure out what her little sister was up to -- what the catch was.

Sam reached over to the veggie platter, picked up a carrot stick, and dipped it in some hummus. Leaning back, she slowly lifted it towards Maxine's face. "A little snack, my queen?" she asked in a silly voice.

"Oh, Jesus, Sam," Maxine scoffed, turning her head like a fussy baby.

Sam didn't press the issue; she held the carrot stick in place, waiting for Maxine to make up her mind. She did have a shit-eating grin on her face, though.

"Oh, fine!" Maxine finally said. She turned her head back towards the carrot stick and opened her mouth theatrically. Sam slowly moved it towards, and then into, her mouth, and Maxine bit down on it forcefully when it was about halfway inside.

"Mmmm," she said while she chewed.

"See?" Sam asked. "Isn't it nice to just get taken care of?"

Maxine rolled her eyes and swallowed. "That's good hummus. You know what, Sam? You win. I'm in your hands."

Sam clapped her hands together excitedly and bounded up from the sofa. "Okay!" she said. "Will, move the coffee table and the platter so I can grab stuff easily with my short little arms. Maxine, you just scoot over here, and we'll swap places... right, like that, and here's a nice pillow to sink into. That's it, sis, now just stretch out and wait for Will to rock your world."

I followed my instructions and made sure Sam wouldn't have to strain to reach the veggies. I also put the remotes next to the snacks; I was going to be busy. Then I made my way to the other end of the sofa, gently lifted Maxine's legs up, and got myself situated.

"Socks on or off?" I asked.

"Ummm," she said. "I think I'll keep them on."

Sam let that go without comment, surprisingly. She was already running her fingers through Maxine's thick, wavy hair. She undid the pony tail and spread the platinum mane out on the pillow so that none of it was in her sister's face. Maxine settled in, closed her eyes, and gave a quiet sigh. She didn't sound perfectly content, but it seemed to me like she was getting there. Sam flicked on the TV and turned the volume down low. I didn't even look over to see what it was. I assumed it was some foreign series that was more liberal with the skin and sex talk than most of the American ones.

I took Maxine's right foot in both of my hands; she tensed up, so I just stayed still until I felt her relax again. Once she did, I started my work. There's not much to say about how to give a foot rub; Sam enjoyed mine quite a lot, so I had the sense that I'd gotten pretty good. Still, I was surprised by just how quickly my efforts elicited a response from her older sister.

"Oh, okay," Maxine rumbled, sounding quite unlike the vapid, breathy woman I knew. "Yeah, that's really good."

"Aw, that makes me so happy!" Sam cooed. "You just relax, sis. Let us take care of you."

For the next few minutes, it almost was like we were at a spa. The TV was an afterthought, providing that odd electronic hum that's always on the edge of hearing. The silly new-age music kept playing, the scent of lavender filled the air, and Maxine would occasionally murmur up at Sam, requesting another little snack. Sam happily dangled them above her waiting mouth, then slowly lowered them while Maxine nibbled. Then it was back to the scalp massage while I kept working on the feet.

"Um," Maxine said a little later, sounding a bit shy, "can we try it with socks off?"

"Of course," I replied. I gently wormed both off and set them aside, then went back to it. Maxine responded to my touch immediately, taking in a deeper breath and releasing a short, happy moan along with her sigh.

Sam was getting distracted up top; I saw her gazing down at her sister with a mixture of love and amusement. The latter, I imagined, was the first hint of the edible taking hold. The scalp massage had turned into more of a full-on head massage, complete with light strokes across Maxine's forehead, cheeks, chin, and neck. Maxine didn't seem to mind at all. I remembered, then, that she'd eaten a whole chocolate by herself -- which made me suddenly surprised that she wasn't either freaking out or passing out.

"You should tell him," Sam whispered to Maxine. "You know you want it."

Maxine shifted a bit on the sofa, but otherwise seemed unperturbed by Sam's suggestion. "Okay," she sighed. She didn't tilt her head to look at me, or even open her eyes. "Will, can you tickle me a bit? I'm not ticklish; I won't kick. I just like it. You're so good. I just like it. So good."

"Anything you want, Maxine," I said, keeping my voice smooth and low. "You just let me know what's good and what isn't."

I switched up my technique, lightly tracing my fingertips across her soles and up to her toes. True to her word, she didn't kick or yank her feet away. She did start moving, though. It was like squirming, but slow and languid. I saw a smile fight to appear on her face; it would come and go when I hit a particular spot, but then the alcohol and marijuana would return her back to a slack neutral. She was definitely enjoying herself. Sam caught my eyes a few times; she was undeniably stoned, but the overriding emotion on her face was self-satisfaction. She was the cat who'd eaten the canary.

Maxine had me switch modes a few more times; about twenty minutes later, Sam was deep into her high, and I was genuinely worried she might start getting frisky up top. About that same time, though, Maxine raised her arm, found Sam's, and tapped it.

"Bathroom," she said lazily.

I stopped what I was doing and lifted her feet. She took the leverage and used it to get into a sitting position. She opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and took a few deep breaths. Notably, she didn't try to get up.

"Want some help?" I asked.

She looked over at me. "I've done religious ceremonies in parts of the world you've never even heard of, young man," she said. "I can handle a little American marijuana."

Her pride got her off the sofa. The marijuana and alcohol sat her right back down. What came next was something of a shock: humility.

"Yes, I would like some help; thank you, Will."

Sam barely suppressed a giggle. Maxine was in no shape to scold her, if she'd even noticed.

I sat down next to Maxine and coaxed her arm over my shoulders. I looped my left arm around her waist, and then let her try again. Her legs weren't jelly; the issue was balance. She leaned on me, and we awkwardly shuffled to our right until we were clear of the coffee table. From there, we looped around behind it, headed down the hallway, and made it to the smaller bathroom.

It was an illuminating trip; Maxine was flushed, and I could feel heat radiating from her core as we walked side by side. She leaned against me fully, to the point where I had to push back to keep from veering off course. She breathed deeply through her nose, and, at first, seemed surprised by what she smelled. It occurred to me that she'd caught some of the same scent already from my T-shirt.

I got Maxine into the bathroom and set her down on the toilet. Both the lid and the seat had been down already. She braced herself with her left arm on the nearby vanity; she was still swaying. I wasn't sure she'd be able to do anything by herself.

I knelt down, reached out, and stroked her hair, which had fallen in a mess all around her face.

"Hey," I said. "I know it's not ideal, but I'm here, and if you need any help, just let me know."

A little smile crept onto her face. Her eyes were barely open. "This is your shirt," she stated.

"... Yes it is," I replied.

"I'm not like you think like I am like," she said. Her whole face scrunched up and she started giggling at her own nonsense. She looked like a completely different person; I saw the resemblance to my Sam more acutely than I ever had.

"Things happen on trips," she continued. "Out in the woooooorld." In addition to getting silly, she was getting sing-songy.

"Oh?" I asked.

She lifted her arms and found my body with her hands. There was no weight behind her touches, but somehow it still felt like she were clinging to me. "You can't be a princess," she said, sounding insistent -- like she was trying to convince somebody. "You have to be independent... but also get help." That confused her, and then the confusion made her giggle. "Mmm-hmm. You can't have pride. You can't have princess pride. You have to let it go."

"What can I do to help, Maxine?" I asked. I was hoping she wouldn't ask me to listen to her rendition of a Disney song.

"I am stoned," she declared in a goofy shred of melody; the final word dropped off to a lower note. "I am quite... quite stoned. I require help. I need help to pee. Because I need to pee."

The concept of needing help to pee because she needed to pee was enough to get her giggly again. She still wouldn't look at me, or even open her eyes very much. Notwithstanding where we were and what was coming next, I chalked it up more to the drugs than any embarrassment on her part.

"Okay," I said. "First step is to get the lid up, so I'm going to get you down on the floor. Nice and cool, nice and safe."

"Okay," she sighed agreeably.

Luckily, she still wasn't dead weight. She cooperated well enough to make the transition simple, and when her body touched the floor, she sighed happily again. I lifted the seat, then turned my attention back towards my utterly-compromised charge.

"Okay, Maxine," I said. "I'm sorry, but I really don't think you're making it back up there alone. Do you want me to get a towel to cover you up?"

She snorted. "Willy, I have been," she declared, losing whatever the final word was supposed to have been. "I have peed. In the woooooorld. Sammy can't embarrass me. She's not so smart. She is. She is so smart." She squinted her still-shut eyes and tapped her head. "But I know."

She spread her arms out to her sides and bent her legs up at the knees. Her smile went wide, and a little weird. "I need help, please," she said. "You can help me."

"Okay," I said. I wasn't trying to earn any points for eloquence. Stoned people, in my experience, responded very well to simple agreeability. Maxine was no exception. She'd already come to associate the single word, uttered in my voice, with safety and comfort. I was sure Sam would be thrilled.