The Things You Make Me Feel Ch. 03

She was slowly beginning to resent him for making her feel so horrible, for acting immaturely, and for his incomprehension of the inevitable truths of life: siblings were not meant to be in a relationship, not in this world they weren't. She had actually made some promising progress with her heartache this past week, yet the picture of him and the way she'd reacted to what, in all likelihood, seemed like an honest expression of surprise from her cousin were sobering her up quickly.

Enter wine. Her wine-gobbling means of counterattack weren't proving themselves prolific yet, and she couldn't stop herself from slowly sinking into depression as she gazed wistfully at her brother through the TV.

"Can we move along with the pictures?" Ellie requested in a dejected, weary voice.

Alice clicked forward to the next picture of Michela.

"Aunt Alice," Melanie said, "can you go back to that pic of Oliver for a sec?"

Alice clicked back.

"Oh, for god's sake, let's eat already!"

"The turkey needs another twenty minutes, baby," Alice said, with the rest considering Ellie in puzzlement. "Go snag yourself something small in the meantime and stop being so cranky."

Ellie fished a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and stepped out to the patio. She flopped down on the sofa and fired one up, sucking on it in frustration. A sudden noise startled her out of her ruminations a moment later.

"I'm out," Dave said, closing the patio door behind him. "Can you spare one for your favorite brother?"

"Surely you don't mean you." She smiled and handed him her pack.

"Oh, that's right. Your favorite brother is in Italy, isn't he?" He drew one out with a chuckle.

"Oh, he is not my favorite brother." She took a pull and sighed the smoke at the grim autumn skies of the night.

Dave sat next to her and lit his cigarette. "What are you doing back smoking? I thought you gave that up years ago."

"It's just a combination of... the pressure before the wedding and uh... stupidity."

They chuckled as they smoked some more in silence.

Ellie couldn't explain it, but Dave's company was a welcome one. Of all her brothers, he possessed the ability to say plenty when saying nothing at all. It almost felt like an entire conversation was taking place without any of them uttering a single word.

"Is the wedding making you nervous?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"For many reasons, Dave," she sighed at the stars. "For many reasons."

"Do you want to expand on that?"

"Not really, no."

"You see, that is exactly what I like you about you, Ellie: your openness and your overall... cheer."

They laughed.

"What do you want me to say, Dave? That I'm nervous? That I'm afraid of getting married to the wrong guy?"

"Are you?"

She took a drag, and her head shook with frustration. "No."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course," she replied swiftly. "I wouldn't marry him if I didn't, would I?"

"I don't know. Would you?"

She turned her head to him, annoyed. "Where are you going with this, Dave?"

"Nowhere. I just want to help you. You seem a bit lost."

"Do I?" she said, unsure if to ridicule him or to cry for help.

He bobbed his head.

"It's stupid really, but I guess being someone's wife is building this pressure up inside me, you know?"

"Not really."

"I mean, here I am single and happy, and come January, I'll be a married woman, my happiness and future chained to my husband's, and it just... scares the crap out of me, even though I know I can't stay single forever. I'm not this young chick anymore." She lit up another cigarette and allowed Dave to hook an arm over her shoulder. It felt comforting. "Naturally, children will be screaming around the house in no time at all, and the next thing I know? I'm a soccer mom making an appointment for a tummy tuck and a boob lift."

They laughed in harmony before Dave rose. "I have a feeling we'll be needing our drinks. Hold that thought."

He went inside and returned a minute later with the bottle of merlot Ellie had brought with her, two glasses, and a wool blanket as it was chilly and neither was equipped with the proper garments. He poured them a heavy glass that suited the heavy talk and perhaps heavy drinkers and covered their lower torsos with the blanket after sitting beside her and snaking his arm back around her.

"Now, where were we?" he mused while twirling the glass of wine in his hand. "Oh, yes... boob lift."

Ellie burst out laughing. "Leave it to you to remember the least important part of my rant."

He raised his glass with a chuckle. "L'Chaim."

Ellie tapped her glass in his and continued to vent for a couple more minutes. "So, what do you think? I'm just stupid, spoiled, and nervous, aren't I?"

"I don't think you are to be honest. I know that everyone will tell you not to worry, that it's natural, but I just don't know, you know?"

"What are you saying?" she murmured fearfully.

"I'm saying that—and I'm not pretending to have a fucking clue. This is my own personal belief that may or may not be true—is that when it's right, all of those things you fear from should be your greatest motivators. You should want to get married, to start a family, to grow old next to your man. You shouldn't be perceiving it as a death noose; you should be wanting it with everything you are." He sighed and guzzled his glass. "But what the fuck do I know, right? I haven't had a normal relationship in years."

"I don't know," she murmured in a pensive undertone. "You're making a lot of sense here."

"That would be the first."

"But what if I"—she looked into Dave's eyes like a scared little puss—"don't think I want those things?"

"Then you need to ask yourself this: You don't want those things? Or you just don't want them with him?"

"God damn it," she sighed and shot the contents of her glass down her throat. "Why does life need to be so fucking complicated?"

"Ellie, same question, and this time think long and hard before you answer: do you love him?"

Ellie was about to fire a definitive yes, but the alcohol, the ambiance, and perhaps the fatigue from the pretense were hindering her response time.

"Yes," she sighed wearily.

"I think I'm gonna call you a liar now, and don't be offended, but you're a liar, liar, pants on fire."

Ellie harnessed her best acting skills to appear offended but eventually cracked up in his arms. "Oh my god, Dave, you're such a fucking catch," she giggled. "How is it that no one has snatched you yet?"

"Don't mock," he said with a smile.

"I'm not. You're quite the guy. You should start taking yourself more seriously. I like this Dave."

"Nice try, but your not-so-subtle attempts to change the subject have crashed and burned. I'm onto you, Sis."

"Oh, are you..." She poured them another heavy round, loving the buzz and the company.

Dave lit them a pair of cigarettes and increased the heat, "There's another guy is what I think."

"What?" Ellie said, stressing every consonant in shock... and dread.

"I just call it like I see it."

She stared closely at him, looking for any trace of hidden knowledge of her and Oliver's incestuous rollercoaster. She looked away once she was positive it was simply a shot in the dark.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"No, you are most certainly not."

He took a drag and sighed. "You know, Ellie, you have such beautiful eyes; you really do."

"That's right, sweet-talk me into forgetting your ridiculous accusation."

"Oh, I'm not sweet-talking you; I'm simply stating a fact. No one has your eyes, not even Mom who gave you them."

She fixed him with an inquisitive look. "Go on."

"Your eyes are like these two large pools of data, but contrary to your equally pretty mouth, they don't know how to tell a lie."

Ellie studied his face in a blend of curiosity and concern. "So, there's another guy. Is that what you're saying?"

"It's what your eyes are saying. I'm only decrypting the data."

"Since when have you become an eye analyst?"

"Since I've noticed that you're lying."

She kept to herself for a moment, learning his eyes. "You know what? Fuck it." She took a mouthful of her wine. "Let's hypothesize—just for the sake of argument—that there is another guy, but that circumstances forbid us from having any romantic contact. What would you think I should do in such a completely imaginary scenario?"

"So it's a made-up scenario that has no grasp in reality?"

"That's right. Just to entertain ourselves since I'm a little drunk, and you, surprisingly, are a pleasant company on this glorious Thanksgiving."

"Oh, Sis, you're too kind," he cooed.

They laughed briefly before Dave took a few puffs from his cigarette as he contemplated the so-called imaginary scenario. "You'll have to be more specific. I.e., is he married? Is he a she? Is he a family member?"

His third guess hit Ellie straight in the uterus, and her breathing couldn't conceal it. She was terrified Dave was getting too close to the truth, but at the same time, the danger of walking that treacherous line with him was a shot of adrenaline straight into her blood stream. She found an exhilarating thrill in dancing this dance with him.

"Let's, hypothetically, go withhhhh... I don't care," she lied. "Choose one."

"It's your scenario," he said, putting the ball back in her court.

She calmly sipped her wine, wanting to emphasize her cool, nonchalant approach to the matter. "Let's go with the last one. That sounds the most entertaining."

"So we're going with incest?"

"Yeah, whatever," she blurted, feigning indifference. "It's just a game anyway."

"Incest it is." He pondered it for a spell, occasionally drinking from his glass of wine. "How close is he? In the family tree? Is he a second cousin, or is he like, let's say... a brother?"

Ellie cringed for the second time. Suddenly, this made-up game was beginning to feel all too real; nevertheless, she couldn't back away now. It would make him suspicious, she thought.

"Let's go with the second cousin," she said, trying to divert suspicion.

"Well, that's not complicated at all," he said as if the solution were trivial. "It's like totally legit to fool around with a cousin. For crying out loud, it's even legal to marry, even a first cousin in many states. That's not complicated at all, Ellie. Are you pulling my chain?"

"You don't think it's weird?" she said, strangely invigorated. "To marry a cousin?"

"No... not really; then again, I'm not society."

"True. Though I do have to commend you for your enlightened beliefs."

"Well, I am nothing if not an enlightened homo sapience."

They chuckled at his quip.

Ellie had to admit that Dave was far more progressive in his opinions than her. Prior to Oliver, she would fervidly condemn any act of incest.

"Then let's go with the other option," she casually said and sipped her wine.

"The brother one?" he made sure.

"Was it? Whatever."

"Well"—he paused to reflect on it further—"that is indeed a pickle. The most hardcore incest there is, along with a parent-child incest of course."

"Of course," Ellie concurred, anxious for him to forge some solution, any solution.

Come on, Dave, help me out here...

"Naturally, marriage is out of the question."

"Naturally," she calmly said.

Don't give up, don't despair... please, give me something to grasp onto.

"It's a major social taboo," he stated in rumination.

"The worst," she said absently while checking out her nails.

No, no, no, no... I need you to help me, not discourage me.

"Family is bound to be judgmental and all around enraged."

"What else," she giggled.

You mother fucker! What are you doing to me?!

"It's a tough one, Ellie; I admit... quite the pickle."

Fuck... my life is over.

"However..."

"Yes?!" She shuffled to him abruptly, her eyes gleaming with hope. "I mean, um, what uh... did you have in mind?"

"Are you okay there?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You're just a little edgy, and you're sweating..."

"It's the wine and blanket; pay no attention to it. Now, you were saying?"

Ellie tried toning down her excitement but couldn't. The thought that she might have some future with Oliver was driving her wild. She was already shopping for furniture and working on the décor of their loving home.

"I was about to say that... love conquers all."

"What?" She escaped his arm. "Are you fucking shitting me?"

"What's wrong with what I said?"

"What's wrong? I thought you were going to address this with a bit more seriousness, Dave, and then you come up with 'love conquers all'? This fucking cliché that anyone who reaches adolescence knows it's a stupid ass joke of a sentiment?!"

"Whoa, why don't you take a breather. I'm not a magician. This is a problem that the greatest mathematicians would find hard to solve let alone poor old Dave."

"So you're saying, god forbid, that if a couple of siblings accidentally, unintentionally, fell in love, they have no hope for happiness? That they're doomed to die miserable?!"

"First of all, you need to calm down. You're all worked up because of this fucking game. Second, I didn't say that; I simply can't find a valid solution to this. And third, it's just a pretend game! Why are you taking it so personal?"

His suspicious frown made Ellie realize she needed to get a grip.

"I'm... not. I just feel so bad for those siblings—if they indeed exist. I know it's just a game, but... I can't help visualizing it in my head, as if it's really happening. It's so depressing, to think they have... no hope. I'm just sensitive, I guess... and drunk." She giggled away from his face, wishing for her imminent death.

As if on cue, the patio door opened, and their father's head peeked from the house. "We're about to sit to eat, so get your butts inside; especially you, Ellie. We all know how hungry you are." He chuckled at his banter and returned inside.

Dave rose and collected the bottle and glasses before starting for the door. Ellie's head was bowed down between her knees in grief as she was digesting this painful culmination to their not-made-up game. She was pulling out all the stops not to cry.

"Hey, are you okay there?" Dave said, standing by the patio door.

"I'm fine," Ellie's voice trembled back, her head still cocooned between her legs.

"You shouldn't take these things so personal. Why should you care about it anyway? It's not like you were about to, oh I don't know... fuck our baby brother on the sofa you're sitting, is it?"

Ellie slowly lifted her head in consternation and daze. Her heart was pounding in her chest so fast and forcefully that it was causing her genuine pain. Blood kept draining from her face, and her normally beautiful pale complexion would look sunburned compared to the ill-looking shade her face was exhibiting by the time she met Dave's eyes.

"Oh my god..." she could barely mutter, eyes as wide as pancakes.

A vicious grin crossed her brother's face as he swiveled around and entered the house.

*

"Baby, why aren't you eating?" Alice said. "You said you were hungry, so I put a rush on the turkey just for you."

"Honey," Dan said a moment later, "your mother is talking to you."

"Ellie?" Alice said.

"Yeah?"

"Are you feeling well?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You look ill. Doesn't she look ill, Dan?"

"Ellie, are you sure you're well?" her father asked. "You do look a little sick."

She poured herself a glass water. "I'm fine."

Alice examined her daughter, worried. "You haven't touched the food."

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Did you eat something before?"

"Yes. I'm uh... I just lost my appetite. Don't worry about me. If I get hungry again, I promise I'll eat something."

Ellie's eyes didn't forsake Dave throughout the holiday meal. She watched as he cheerfully hummed while breaking down the bird in his mouth with not a care in the world. She knew he was relishing her pain since he couldn't wipe the gloating grin off his face, even while chewing on the mini baked potatoes.

"Ellie, you should really eat something," Dave said between his bone-cleansing endeavors. "It's such an orgasm for the palate. The flavors, my god... great work, Mom."

"Thanks, sweetie," Alice said with a content smile. "More turkey?"

"Oh, yes please," he said eagerly.

Watching Dave feasting on the turkey felt like some sick form of Chinese torture to Ellie. It was slow, painful, and irksome. She couldn't wait for him to finish, so she could murder him in the shed using a hefty wrench. His body would not be discovered for weeks, she estimated. Heck, she might even get away with it without needing to flee to Mexico.

Dave, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He was sitting on this huge pile of explosives for so much time, dispersing subtle clues, insinuating here and there with masterful tact, carefully awaiting the right moment to show his hand, and now that he did, he was making every second count, savoring in his sister's horrified face.

That night, he had indeed witnessed Ellie and Oliver going at it like savage wolves. Caught up in this intimate and private moment, he couldn't help appreciating the intensity and heat of their groping. He himself couldn't recall if there was ever a girl who wanted him this badly and vice versa. It was steaming-hot erotica, full of passion and sentiment, the way his siblings were petting and kissing one another.

To his misfortune, Ellie had spotted him and blew up the adult-only show, rendering him to play hide and seek with Oliver for the following ten minutes or so, as his brother was looking to disprove their sister's concerns. Luckily, he had managed to outwit Oliver and retired to his room to muse for the entire night on the shocking discovery he had inadvertently stumbled upon.

"Are you going to be done anytime soon?" Ellie said, struggling to suppress the immediacy.

"Why, I just started my second plate, Sis," Dave replied, prepping the bird for his mouth. "Is it urgent?"

The table examined her with intrigue.

Ellie gulped back her rage. "No."

"Are you sure?" he asked, feigning concern. "You look awfully troubled, Ellie. Is that why you've been abstaining from this wonderful meal?"

Ellie gritted her teeth, her eyes blazing with homicidal intentions.

"You do look preoccupied, baby," Alice said.

"She does, doesn't she, Mom?"

"I hate you," Ellie hissed. "I hope you choke on that bone and drop dead."

Dave started sounding guttural growls as his hand jerked for his throat. He pretended he was gasping for air before he laughed out loud.

"Ellie, please do not talk like that," Alice said. "It's unbecoming."

Ellie drank her water in an attempt to quell the raging storm inside her, as she watched her brother laughing while dismantling the turkey.

"What did you do to her?" Jack asked Dave, a grin of amusement on his face.

"Nothing! Why do you pick on poor old Dave for?"

"Because I know you."

"Oh, you do, do you? Then let me ask you this, my sage big brother: suppose you were in your room, getting ready for bed, minding your own business, when suddenly—"

"I will fucking kill you!"

"Ellie!" Dan said. "What is the matter with you?"

"Baby, what's going on?" Alice petted her face worriedly. "Why are you behaving like this?"

Ellie couldn't keep her emotions bottled any longer, and distress was making its first appearance on her wan face. "I..." She sighed and then shook her head.

"Did he do something to you?" Alice shot Dave a look before focusing back on her daughter. "Baby?"

"I fear I am indeed to blame for Ellie's behavior, Mom." Dave seized his napkin and gently tapped on both corners of his mouth. "I may have unsettled her before."

Alice looked from Dave at Ellie. "Is that true, baby?"