Solace in Emma's Room

When the moment came, she firmly grasped my erection and guided it into her steamy well, like we had been making love for years already. The look of pure pleasure and lust on her face as I entered her sealed it for me; I now realize that I fully fell in love with her at that moment.

Afterward we lay together in blissful lassitude, in one of those moments that are truly remembered for a lifetime.

On Sunday afternoon, after another night together, and another morning spent effortlessly in each other's presence, wandering through a campus coming alive with signs of spring, I sat with her on a bench.

"Dianna, I know we've been together just a short time, but it feels so perfect to me. I can't imagine ever not being with you now. I love you. Let's finish our degrees first, but when we're done...will you marry me?"

"Oh, Tony," she gasped. "I—I think I must be dreaming. I mean, yes, yes I will! It's just such a surprise. Of course I'll marry you, darling. You're the only one for me."

And my hopelessness was complete.

I hadn't money for a fancy ring, and anyway, diamonds? No. I bought her an elegant, tasteful ring with a small opal—her birthstone. Only she and I knew what it meant, and that was fine with us.

I found us a little efficiency apartment a block away from campus and we moved in. There were never going to be enough opportunities for us to be together in the dorms. What an exciting time that was! We had to discipline ourselves to have quiet evenings for studying. That was part of our shared life, too, and we treasured it. Our plans were to get married after graduation, just two years away.

All that remained was to tell our parents. Both of ours were devout, but we were both thoroughly lapsed and out about it with them, so it wasn't that much of a struggle. They could hardly threaten us with damnation for "living in sin" when we believed in no such thing anyway.

After an idyllic two years, the May of our graduation year arrived and our university proclaimed us well and truly educated. Two weeks later we had our wedding in a local park with family and friends. The older part of our families were probably just relieved we were finally getting hitched and removing an embarrassing topic of discussion between them and their peers. Our officiant was a Unitarian minister whose daughter Dianna knew, a fresh embarrassing topic for some. Not that we cared. It was our life and our time.

Later that year we would move two hundred miles away, to the city that was home to the school were I had been admitted for graduate study in Anthropology. Dianna was job searching there in anticipation.

What do I remember from the next five years?

Moving into university married housing, just across a creek from the main campus. It was extremely reasonable rent and I was within easy walking distance. Dianna could use the car all she needed.

The low cost of living, with no end of events on campus we could attend. Life was a lot like what we had as undergraduates.

The intensity of my course work. It was a flood of required reading and analyzing what I had read. I would be taking qualifying exams after two years; my performance on them would determine if I could continue in the program.

Working as a teaching assistant, covering recitation sessions of undergraduate classes, grading assignments, and proctoring exams. I received a stipend for this that covered our expenses, if leaving little for extravagances.

The sunny Saturday we reclined on a blanket in the park, just enjoying being there and each other's company, indulging in a little public display of affection. At one point she sighed and said, "Thank you for bringing me here, Tony." She meant the city, our new home.

Her taking the car and driving back to see her family the next weekend. She missed them so much. It was not a problem for me: I had a lot of reading to catch up on.

Going with her to visit my family over Christmas break. They had come to love Dianna, and thought we were the greatest thing going.

Her difficulty finding a good job. I reassured her: take your time, find the best thing you can, we don't need much right now and aren't hurting.

The job she finally took, as a tech writer for a software company. At entry level, so it didn't pay hugely, but it helped a lot.

Weekend mornings spent in bed, keeping the spark alive.

The bills that started to pile up.

Studying for quals in our tiny bedroom in the evening, to have a quiet place while she did yoga to video classes in the living room.

The relief of passing quals and finding a professor with an interesting research program who had a place for me as a research assistant. I could join his group and find a dissertation topic in his area.

Choosing my topic and getting it accepted, a huge cause for celebration. We went out for Italian food with two of my classmates and one of her friends from work. They split the check.

Being away for conferences, more conferences, and finally for three months of field work gathering data for my dissertation.

Coming back from field work to find things changed. Dianna was no longer as happy.

A sunny Saturday in the park, like earlier ones but not like them. Tension in the air, irritation with small quirks that were acceptable before.

The breakdown that same night, all her turmoil coming out. You're away so much, you don't pay attention to me, where are we going after you finish, why am I even here? And finally the bombshell that meant our marriage was over in all but name, unless I could save it.

Me? It's all up to me?

Pleading with her: What do you need from me? I'll do it, I'm working on it, I need some time. All to no avail.

Changing my tune in frustration: No, I don't want to lose you, but I won't beg. You have to see things my way too. Let's work this out.

The impasse that could not be broken.

Moving with her across the courtyard into a two-bedroom apartment. Still tiny, but at least I no longer had to share a cold bed with a sudden stranger until she could afford to move out.

The day she finally moved out. I cried and looked into the bathroom mirror at my ugly, contorted face.

The feeling that everything I had been living for was collapsing in on me.

I drove toward my parents' home in my beat-up graduate student special Toyota, enjoying what I could of the bucolic scenery. I had already broken the news to them by phone. This visit was needful, but I could not look forward to it with pleasure.

I arrived at the outskirts of town and passed by the old familiar landmarks. They appeared drab and gray now, not the charming features of a small Midwestern city they had seemed on previous visits when she was with me. Maybe this was how they really looked.

I parked at the house and went in. We had never bothered to ring before, knowing we were welcome.

They were there, Mom, Dad, Emma, eighteen, and Janie, now sixteen. Matt and Scott lived on the West Coast now, too far away to visit much. I received hugs from them all in turn.

"I'm so sorry, Tony," they all said, nearly the same words.

"I don't know, Mom," I said, after we had settled into the open kitchen and dining area, always the gathering place in our home. I was seated in a chair at the family heirloom table.

"I thought everything was fine. Then I got back from my field work, and she was unhappy. I spent too much time away from her. Well, I had to. It's part of my program. I have to do research. But she felt neglected.

"I should be more outgoing, she said. I spent too much time alone, reading, writing. What did she think my grad school was going to be about? It's an enormous amount of work, much more than a full-time job. I did as much as I could with her, went out with her to a party now and then. Dinner out, movies, you know. But it wasn't enough.

"I think she's envious of my life, really. She used to love it when we were both in school. We'd be working side by side the whole evening after dinner, just taking little breaks to touch base with each other. Her job isn't that interesting, and the pay isn't that great. I mean, it's enough for us, together with my stipend. Of course we're not getting rich. So she's frustrated. Is that a good reason to want out? I don't understand. We even tried counseling, but that didn't work. I'm at a loss."

"Do you think she could get into a graduate program there, too? Seems like that's what she's missing," Mom said.

"She probably could. She graduated with high honors, she could do it. It would be a stretch, but we could survive without her salary. We've done it before, we always supported each other however we could. Part-time jobs, whatever. I asked her. She just said 'no'.

"What really hurt, Mom, was that she finally just came out and told me, 'I'm afraid I don't love you anymore'. What can I say to that?"

It was all coming back to me, the pain, the tortured nights with little sleep, the tears shed, the angry words. I hoped my voice wouldn't crack, but I was sure it would any second.

"If she needs to be free now to get where she wants to be in life, I can't stop her. I shouldn't stop her, it would just prolong the suffering for both of us."

"So, it sounds like you're going through with it?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's over now. I don't see any going back. We're doing it pro se, not getting any lawyers involved. Can't afford them anyway. We just have to make out a separation agreement and some other papers, and file them. At some point the judge will grant a legal separation, and after a year we can be final."

"I'm sorry, Tony," she said. "We always loved Dianna, and we were so happy for you being together."

That's when I cracked. Oh Jesus. Don't let me do this. Let me keep it together, please.

Mom came to the table from the kitchen area and put an arm around my shoulder. I felt Emma's presence too, as she put her arms around my neck and hugged me from behind. Still I let out three or four strangled sobs before I could get control of myself again.

"It's all right, son," said Mom. "I know, it must hurt."

"No, I'm okay, Mom," I said, catching my breath. "It does hurt, but I can handle it. Mostly. Thank you for caring."

Emma patted my shoulder. That was a comfort.

"I'll be here for the week," I said. "It's spring break. Grad students get to have a vacation sometime, too."

"You're more than welcome, Tony," said Mom. "Your room is ready for you. Just like when you left it last time."

I went upstairs to unpack. My old bed was still there, freshly made up. A fresh pang of sorrow went through me, remembering that Dianna had slept there with me when we visited together.

My study desk and listening desk were there. I had long since traded the Hallicrafters for a Grundig portable receiver that put the performance of the old vacuum-tube radio to shame. It was packed in my suitcase, which I now opened to hang up my clothes. That only took a minute. It took a minute more to get out the radio, set it on the desk and give it a quick check to make sure it had survived the trip. Maybe a little listening later tonight would take me back to happier times.

There were footsteps coming up the old stairs. A moment later Emma peeked into my open door.

"Tony?"

"Hi sis. I just was thinking I wanted to talk to you. Just to say thank you for caring, too. It really means a lot to me."

"You were always my favorite brother. I can't help but care."

"I would have thought you would be closer to Matt and Scott. They're more your age."

"Not that much," she said. "Anyway, they were always immature for their age. I wanted someone to look up to. That was you. And you were always there for me too, even after you went off to school. I remember how you came home for spring break and helped Janie and me with getting our Geocaching badges for Scouts that year."

"I remember that," I said. "Your leader wasn't too clear about how to use the GPS function on your phones, right?"

"That was it. But anyway, what I came up for was that I need some brotherly advice. I know it's a terrible time for you, and I'm sorry to lay my troubles on you now, but I'm kind of in a bad way right now. I can't talk to Mom or Dad."

Oh no, she isn't pregnant, is she? What an awful mess that would be.

It was like she had sensed my thought.

"No, it's not what you might be thinking. I'm just very confused about stuff that's been happening to me. Can we go to my room? We won't be heard as easily there."

"Sure," I said. "Hey, if you can take my mind off my own stuff for a while, it's a fair trade. Lead on."

We walked past the stairs, past childhood photos of ourselves and the others, down the hallway to the far end and Emma's room.

She shut the door and sat down on her bed. She was wearing jeans and a crop top. It wasn't one of the really short numbers, but I found the sight of her exposed skin and occasional flash of her cute navel a bit distracting. Come on dude, it's nothing you haven't seen before. She's your sister, for fuck's sake.

I took the chair in front of her vanity. "What's up, sis? Boy problems?"

"Not exactly. But I can start there. So once I turned eighteen in January, I decided that since I was finally legal, I might as well ditch the cherry. You remember Brad?"

"Dude with the neckbeard and glasses? He was the sacrifice?"

"You joke, Tony, but you're not that far wrong. Don't let me get ahead of myself. What I'm saying is, it was pretty good. I didn't...you know, but it felt good. He left me wanting more, I guess is what I'd say."

"You two were safe, I trust?"

"Oh yeah, rule number one. Safety first. You told me that, didn't you? But anyway, the next thing that happened was, he kind of lost interest in me. Was I that bad?"

"Some guys are like that, Emma. Once they've gotten you into the sack, their mission is complete. Time to move on. It's pretty disgusting behavior, but it's out there. I'm sorry, but it sounds like you've had your first taste of it. I hope it's your last. Anyway, I always thought you could do better than that guy. Anyone new in your sights?"

"Yes and no. This gets into what's really got me upside down now. I was dancing with this girl down at the all-ages club last week. I knew her slightly from school. She's in my class and is a little older than me. You know, we were dancing together because no guys were asking us, right? But then she started putting the moves on me, and Tony, I was getting turned on to her. I mean, I hardly knew what to think. I still don't.

"She asked me if I would go out to her car with her. I went, I don't really know why. I guess I told myself that maybe she just wanted to smoke a joint with me or something. But instead she drove around to the back of the parking lot where it was dark and no one was around.

"She asked me if I had ever been with a girl before. I said no. She asked me if I thought I might want to try it. I managed to get out something like 'I don't know'. She told me I was beautiful and I really turned her on. She asked me if she could kiss me."

Emma's voice was starting to shake. I needed to comfort her, let her know it was okay to tell me the whole story. I went over and sat next to her on the bed. I put my hand on her shoulder and she buried her face in my chest.

"I must have said 'yes', because she leaned over and kissed me. Tony, it felt good, it felt like it did when Brad used to kiss me. I think I must have kissed her back some. She was feeling my breasts then and it just felt better. I was getting aroused.

"Then she touched me...down there, through my pants. She hadn't asked, and then I got scared and told her to stop. But still, it felt good for the second before I realized what was happening.

"She apologized, said she had gone too far with me before I was ready. She said, 'You can come back inside or you can leave now, it's okay, but if you ever want to try some more, I'll be around'. So I left then and came home. Luckily no one saw me come in because they would have known from my face that something was up.

"Is something wrong with me, Tony?" She was near tears by now.

So I explained to her that what she was going through was nothing very unusual, that it wasn't a question of right and wrong, that I would never tell anyone unless she wanted me to, and that she had my love and support no matter which direction her life took her.

Then, as I was leaving her, she kissed me in a quite unsisterly fashion, and I suddenly realized that I had my own dilemma to work out. Because I had liked it. Very much.

Back in my room, I had time to kill and not that much to do with it except think. I supposed I would need to work through this sometime. The question at hand was whether there was something wrong with me. Was I really becoming attracted to my sister?

Had it had been just a momentary thing, the kind of mental glitch that everyone experiences from time to time? If Emma had not had her faux pas with me, it would not have happened at all. The problem with this hypothesis was, why had I been bothered by the way she was dressed? I had plenty of female cousins who often dressed at least as provocatively, and they had never 'bothered' me in that way.

My second thought was that it was my general depressed mental state that was playing with my emotions and crossing wires in my libido. I knew I had become rather sentimental since Dianna left, able to be moved to tears by sad movies that I could sit through stone-faced before.

This one was harder to dismiss. I would have to go with it for now, since the third alternative—that my attraction to my younger sister was genuine—was not one I was willing to face.

Having reached this rationalization, I was content to relax and try to clear my mind of negative thoughts. I continued to relax until I dozed off, and slept until Mom called us down for dinner.

It was a more elaborate affair than I was used to at home, a real family dinner, no doubt in honor of my presence. Dear Mom, still taking care of her family after all these years, working over a hot stove in her sweater and slacks, a lighter streak of gray now showing in her golden hair. I made a note to get Emma and Janie to help me put together a dinner for Mom and Dad at least once this week.

Dad was there, jovial on the outside as always, with a hint of something more serious deeper down that he never spoke of. A little more gray, a few lines on his face, a few extra pounds added as often happens after a certain age.

Janie came to the table wearing a t-shirt of some boy band. Her dark hair was longer than last time I had seen her, and she was wearing glasses now. I asked her about them. They were just for a minor correction, she told me, and anyway some boys liked them.

Emma was the last to appear, wearing the same jeans and crop top, and suddenly my rationalizations were right out the window. She was adorable from head to foot, from blonde curls to painted toes, in just the same way I would find any young woman on the street who looked as good. I found myself longing for her body naked against mine, those young, tender breasts that filled out her top so well pressing against my chest.

Well, this is a fine fix you've gotten yourself into, you perv. And you're almost ten years older than she is too—a dirty old man as well.

I swore to myself in that moment that this was as far as it went. If somehow it was my misfortune to feel this way, it would have to be my deepest secret. No one could ever know—not her, not our parents, no one. Just as I would keep the secrets of hers she had told me that afternoon.

We had vegetable soup as a starter. It was from a can, but that didn't matter. It brought back memories of that very same soup on chilly fall days in childhood. It was perfect.