Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner Chapters: 09-10 (of 20) Author: Dai_wakizashi Universe: Tfauc Summary: Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey. Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama Status: in progress Revision: 2.0 Web Sites: ASSTR- /~dai_wakizashi/ SOL- http://storiesonline.net/home.php EWP- http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html Discussion Forum: http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76 ***************************************************************** TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER [Tfauc] CHAPTER - 9: Home The cab pulled next to the curb, and I stepped out, waiting for the driver to open the trunk. Picking up my suitcase, I paid him, and walked to the apartment complex. My parents had been living in one of the flats for the last ten years. It had been my home for many good years before I finally moved out, and it was still home--of some sort. I had my room here, since I didn't have a place of my own. I had planned to rent a small flat or buy into one of the new condos being built, but my parents pointed out that it would be a waste of money. Well, they had a point. At the rig-site, I had a cabin. When I had to spend a few days in the office, the company had accommodations available for the staff at the compound. On my off-duty time, I was traveling and staying at hotels or pensions in coastal towns. If I had rented or bought a place it wouldn't have been used much, unless I rented it out. Besides defeating the purpose in the first place, that would have brought another set of problems--dealing with tenants, taxes, contracts, etc. Of course, there was another--unspoken--reason. My parents wanted me to be financially independent. They had hopes I would eventually quit that job and place, and move somewhere safer and more civilized. If I had committed myself to paying for one of the condos, I couldn't easily leave my current job. I could afford the mortgage with my current salary. However, if I had to get a job in my hometown or in another big city--even a good paying job--the salary wouldn't be anywhere near half of what I was currently making. What's more, I didn't want the company to shackle me with a golden chain. I had gone to great lengths to ensure the privacy of my financial affairs. Every month, I pulled most of my salary from the bank the company used, and transferred it to an account with a small, independent bank, where a friend of my sister worked. When I had to finance the purchase of my car, he helped out, ensuring that there wouldn't be any contact with the Company; they only asked for official copies of my salary slip and contract. When my sister heard what I did, she figured out my reasoning and accused me of being paranoid, but she had no idea how things worked in some companies; I had seen quite a few examples of arm-twisting and manipulation. I wasn't going to give anybody that kind of leverage over me. Maybe she was right, but I haven't forgotten what Musashi wrote 400 years ago, about how to exploit your opponent's weaknesses in a combat situation. I had taken those lessons to heart and knew they did apply to many modern situations. Climbing the stairs with my suitcase in hand, I tried to compose myself. I felt somewhat light hearted and happy, for the first time, but I didn't want anybody to notice that, and ask unnecessary, uncomfortable questions. I wasn't ready to answer any more awkward questions than I had to. I knew they would be curious why I had to spend the very night I was back in town, away from home. They didn't need to know, and I could get away with a white lie. I didn't like resorting to a lie, so I usually ignored the questions I didn't want to answer. They rarely got insistent, but they still did sometimes, as if I was a 15 year old teen (forgetting the long standing understanding that if I was avoiding a question, then they would do well to steer clear off the subject, unless they were ready to accept a half truth or an unpleasant truth). There had been exceptions to the rule, of course, when we laid our cards on the table, but they had been few and far between. Before I knocked, the door opened, and my sister stood at the entrance, with a smile on her face. "It's Mitch," she shouted over her shoulder, informing my parents, before stepping aside to let me in. I set my suitcase to the side, closed the door behind me, then hugged her. "Hey, Sis. What are you doing here?" "What do you think? I was waiting for you," she replied. When we parted, she gave me a quizzical look, and dropped a bombshell. "Did you change your aftershave?" _Shiiit! Did I have Dana's perfume on me? Oooh, maaan! That's all I need now._ "Nope. It must be the new shampoo," I replied with a straight face. She wasn't convinced, but before she could interrogate me, I steered us towards the living room. Mom was a bit misty eyed, especially when she noticed the white and gray stripe on my temples, but she didn't make any comments. She was happy to have me back, away from that 'God-forsaken place.' Dad was his usual quiet self, exchanging a quick greeting. They looked healthy, although Mom seemed to have more worry lines around the corner of her eyes. I didn't want to think about that, but when I saw my parents I always felt guilty about working in that part of the country against their wishes. "We were expecting you last night, Mitchell," Mom said. "Sorry. It was a last minute thing. I couldn't get away." I noticed Sis was listening in with interest and I was afraid of what she might say. She usually kept her quips private; I guess it was something we both learned as young siblings, _them_ and _us_--the parents and the children. But on rare occasions, she would say something just to see me sweat. She was careful though, knowing a payback could be coming. "Yeah. Mom said that you ran into an old friend... at the airport," my sister got into the conversation. Although she didn't ask, the question was there, and she expected an answer. I shot a warning look at her, but she was enjoying herself. Her female radar had recorded an unidentified object, and she was curious to find out what it was she had stumbled upon. When I didn't answer, she came back. "So, whom did you see?" "Katherine Tanner!" Mom warned her. _Thanks, Mom!_ "It's all right, Ma. She's being Kathy--as usual. If she didn't, I would be asking 'who's this stranger'," I retorted with a smile, trying to get my sister off the hook with Mom, while paying her back. Kathy was properly admonished, but she wasn't going to give it up so easily. "Well, Bro, you better treat this strange girl nicely, or you may be sleeping on the street tonight." "Katherine! You behave yourself this instant," Mom said, then turning on me, she warned me, too, "And you too. I will not have you two bickering like children." Then, with a more gentle tone, she added, "Mitch, we're having your room and your father's den painted, so most of your stuff has been moved to your sister's place. It was her suggestion." She gave Kathy a pointed look. "But, if she's changed her mind, we can make other arrangements." At that, my sister shook her head. "No. I miss him. I want him to stay at my place. I was just teasing." "Teasing him? You call being impolite and nosy... teasing?" Mom asked her, the amused expression taking the sting out of her words. "Sorry, Mitch. I didn't mean anything," my sister said with a soft voice. Taking a step, I gathered her in my arms. "I know, Kathy. I missed you, too." She relaxed in my embrace, then whispered, "I like your new shampoo." She was incorrigible, but that was Kathy. It was going to be an interesting couple of days with her. I wondered whether I would survive the experience. As I was contemplating the coming days, my stomach growled, making my sister laugh. "You didn't eat anything?" she asked. "I had a big breakfast." Extracting herself from my embrace, she headed for the kitchen. "I'll whip up something for you." "Mitch, you better go and help her out. Otherwise, you might die of food poisoning or something," Mom said loudly, making sure Kathy heard her. "Maaaa!" Kathy exclaimed. "I'm a good cook. And if I weren't, it would be your fault. You taught me how," she retorted. "I know, dear. I was just teasing," Mom replied, giving her a devilish smile. "Teasing? Tarnishing my reputation is teasing?" my sister responded, trying to get back at Mom. Before the two women could get into a protracted give and take, Dad interrupted them. "Mitch, son. You better get to the kitchen. Don't wait on these two cats." _You're a brave man, Dad! Do you know what you're getting yourself into? If they turn on you, you're dead meat!_ "Your dad is right, Mitch. You better get yourself something in the kitchen. And you, young lady, if you want to be over my knee, I'll make the time. Just ask," Mom said with a grin. Heh! That was a threat Kathy and I could both call. She never hit us throughout our childhood, but then, we never gave her cause to make true on her threats either. "Well, Sis. What's it gonna be? Kitchen or..." She shrugged with a wry grin, and headed for the kitchen, with me following behind her. I wasn't very hungry, despite the growling in my stomach, so we got busy making a salad and an omelet, while chatting. When she finished preparing the salad, she set a plate on the small kitchen table. I didn't take too long to clean up my plate, while Sis watched me wolf down the food, rushing through lunch--a nasty habit I picked up at the college due to the short lunch breaks between classes, and later, continued at the rig. When I finished eating, Mom came in. Sis collected the dirty dishes, and placed them in the dishwasher, and we sat around the table. Mom was in a good mood and I guess she was happy to see both of us in the house, but I noticed she was perturbed about something. When I looked askance, she shook her head as if to say 'nothing,' but I knew she had something in her mind. "Come on, Mom. What's on your mind?" "You look tired, Mitchell. You're too young to have white in your hair. It's not in the family. That place is slowly killing you. When are you going to come back home, or move to someplace else?" _Ma, when are you going to stop asking the same questions? I don't have the answers. When I have them, you'll be the first to know._ I looked at Kathy to see if she would come to my aid, but either she was told not to or she didn't want to get pulled into this one, so she averted her eyes. "Don't look at her, Mitchell. She's as worried as we are. You think she doesn't think about you every time she watches the news at night?" "Please. I'm not going to get drawn into a discussion. It's a closed issue. Don't believe everything you see on TV or read in the newspapers. It's not that bad at all. Do you really believe I would stay there if it was as dangerous as you think? Give me some credit, will you?" I said, trying hard not to be argumentative. "I don't know what to believe! But I know what I see. That place is wearing you down." "Sometimes it gets too busy, and I don't get enough sleep. I haven't had much sleep in the last two days, and last night I had a few drinks. That's why I look like the way I do. You've seen Kathy in the same condition, when she pulls a 36-40 hour shift in the emergency ward. She does that more regularly than I do. So, what's the difference? I tell you. There's no difference. None at all," I retorted with a tired sigh. "I get a day off after those long shifts, and I don't spend my time out in the open, like you do. Two months ago, they reported 53 C in the shade and regularly upper 40s for the region. Last year, you had -20 C for several days in December. You spend most of your time outside, exposed to the elements. Your hours are irregular," Kathy said. _You too, Sis? What is this? I just arrived and I'm already being grilled. This discussion was settled almost a year ago. I'm not going to rehash it!_ "That's why I get several weeks of off-duty time. To recuperate. Like all other people who work on the rig. Most of them spend more time out in the open than I do. They have been working in different countries, in different climates for years. I didn't see anybody dying from hard work," I replied, with a low, controlled tone. This was trying my patience, especially because it had been a long time since we had a similar discussion. When I took a moment to reflect on it, I realized there was one notable difference between this and previous ones--I wasn't angry or even irritated. I was ticked off, a bit, and my patience was slowly running out, but I didn't feel any anger or even resentment at being pulled into the same subject, taking it in stride. _What has changed? Was it Dana?_ My mind was busy with that question and I almost missed the signal between Kathy and Mom. Mom was going to say something, but I saw Sis shake her head 'don't.' Kathy was watching me carefully, and I felt like I was under an electron microscope. _Does she suspect something?_ I learned early on to never underestimate her. _I hope the next couple of days aren't going to be a trial._ Sometimes, Kathy didn't know when to stop, and I wasn't ready to talk. Well, I hadn't talked with Kathy about anything in the last few years. I knew I clammed up pretty hard every time she had tried to probe, and on a few occasions I had to remind her to mind her own business. I knew it wasn't a nice thing to say to my sister, but siblings or not, I didn't appreciate any intrusion to my personal life and what I considered my private affairs. I had been somewhat distant, not only because of what happened in the past, but for other reasons as well. Kathy and my parents thought my decision was based solely on getting over my wounds, and, I believe, they didn't realize I didn't want them to see me struggle every day. I was still struggling, but it had gotten better--except yesterday! I also needed the space; my personal, private space, without intrusions. I wouldn't have that while trying to work a regular job, with regular hours, and regular people who had certain expectations (especially social expectations). I would have drawn unnecessary attention, and I knew I didn't need. It was bound to get me a bad reputation, if not into trouble with people. I didn't want the people who knew me (including my family) to witness what I was going through. 'Far from the eyes, far from the heart.' That might not always apply to family--my family--but it did to a certain degree. I had moved into a protective shell, and letting them witness my daily struggles would just add to the feelings of guilt. It would have been impossible to maintain an appearance of normalcy in an office. And, since I didn't fit into a regular world, I had my doubts about holding a regular job for more than a few months. That would have been another blow, another worry for them. They were used to seeing me succeed, and seeing me switch or lose jobs, or being a misfit, would have torn them worse than their current worries. _It's not that they wouldn't understand my reasons. I'm pretty sure they would have. I know they would still love me if I had failed, but it would have destroyed me for sure. I know what I am. I'm too proud and stubborn. I wouldn't, couldn't settle for failure. If I had stayed and found a job here, I was destined to fail. I'm sure of it. I didn't fit in then, and I still don't. That day may come. Perhaps, sooner than I expect, but it's too early to talk about it and get their hopes up._ Changing the subject, Mom asked about my plans for my vacation, but before I could get a word in, Kathy cut in. "You're taking me out to dinner tonight, Bro. Some place nice." "Sure. Wherever you want," I replied, my attention still on Mom. "Close your mouth, dear," Mom said to Kathy, who was staring at me with a gaping mouth. She sputtered, then asked, "You... You're not going to argue?" "Kathy, I always enjoyed taking you out. I only argued when our schedules didn't match, or you had those annoying friends of yours tagging along. You know I don't care for some of them, and yet, you insist." "Why? All of the girls are nice, and the guys behave themselves," she replied, with a defensive tone. _Shit. I don't want to get into this in front of Mom. Why don't you zip it up?_ "Some of those girls are too _nice_," I replied, pointedly. Sensing trouble brewing, Mom interrupted us. "Mitchell, that's not a nice thing to say about anybody, let alone those girls." "They are shopping for a boyfriend, and worse, yet, some of them are shopping for a husband. I'm not shopping for a girlfriend or a wife. I have no interest in them, and they don't take a hint. And, that's all I'm going to _say_, on this subject," I replied with deliberation, my tone making it clear I would not tolerate further discussion. "Moving on to your question," I said, swiftly changing the subject. "I don't have any specific plans. I need to get the car to the garage for a check-up. Then I'll head for the coast. There are some towns I want to visit. I really liked one place last time, so I might spend most of my time there, exploring." Kathy broke in with another question. "Sarah is having a party on Saturday. You'll come, won't you?" _You're insistent, Sis. Never give up trying. I'll give you that, but neither do I. You should know that._ Sarah was her best friend, and a girl I had known since we were kids. She was a very nice girl, not one of the sharks who made my hair stand on end when I had to socialize. It'd been several years since I had seen her, and what I remembered was a girl with whitish blonde hair, gray eyes, and a slightly chubby body. But, she had the voice of an angel and played the guitar like a virtuoso. In junior high, she and my sister had started taking guitar lessons, and Sarah turned out to be exceptionally gifted. Not only was she good at playing the guitar, but she had a voice. _Man, did she sing! Angels must have been listening to her crystal clear voice in the heavens, every time she sang._ Many times, I had found myself taking a break from my studies just to listen to their practice sessions next door in my sister's room, relaxing to her voice. _Fond memories, indeed._ "Sarah... How's she doing?" "She works in Orthopedics at the other hospital, but we get together whenever we can. She still plays the guitar and sings. I hope you haven't forgotten that." "No way I could forget that voice. I always thought she would quit school and turn professional, being a singer. I remember her having problems in med school." "She did. Repeated a year. She wanted to go professional, but her parents and I talked some sense into her." "She didn't resent it?" "No. She's happy she continued with her studies. She still has time for music, and she could still try singing professionally, if she wanted to. But I guess, she didn't want it that badly. When did you see her last?" she asked. "Ummm... I don't know... five, six years ago... Why?" Instead of answering me, she gave me a smile filled with mischief, making me uneasy. "What exactly are you cooking up, Sis?" I asked, apprehensive about what she might be planning to spring on me. She always managed to find a way to catch me unprepared. Although her surprises had been pleasant enough--more often than I cared to admit--there had also been many occasions when they had annoyed the hell out of me. "Ohh... nothing, really," she replied casually. It was too casual for my liking, and seeing I was getting antsy, she hastily said, "Don't get your knickers in a tw--" "For your information, I don't wear ladies underwear!" I cut her off. "OK! Don't get your pants in a twist! It's really nothing. She's just... changed..." she replied with a teasing smile. "Changed?" I repeated her words with a smirk. I found it hard not to suspect her motives, after her casual remark. "You'll see when we go," she responded cryptically. _Hell, no! I'm not going to be suckered into anything. I know you Sis. I know how devious your mind can be..._ Giving her a teasing smile, I said, "Well, that could be difficult... I'm not sure if I can make the party." Her face fell at that, because she knew that she couldn't cajole me in any way to go to a party, even if it was Sarah's; not after what I had said about the other girls, and knowing that there bound to be a few of them attending the same party. "You know, you can be a real spoil sport, Bro. But I'm being polite. I won't say that you're being a sourpuss." Mom caught her breath at that quip, but instead of admonishing her, she took her side. "She's right, Mitchell. You are being a rat about the whole thing." "I didn't say I wouldn't go. I said, I might not make it," I retorted. I wanted to know what she was planning. I didn't like being caught unprepared or suckered into something I would dislike. Kathy immediately recognized the opportunity, but was reluctant to come out with whatever she had up her sleeve. In the end, she gave up the pretense, and said, "Sarah turned into a babe, Mitchell. You would hardly recognize her." "Sarah? A babe?" She had always been a good looking girl, but nothing special. The girl-next-door kind of good looking, except her voice. She had been a bit pudgy at the time, so I had difficulty imagining her as a babe. Mom said, "Sarah is not really a babe." That made more sense, so I looked askance at my sis, wondering what she was up to, when Mom added, "She's a blonde bombshell." _Sheeesshh! What the hell's going on? Babe! Blonde bombshell! Sarah is turned into a blonde bombshell. You're joking, right?_ When I looked at Mom, she was grinning from ear to ear, smug with the knowledge that she had managed to shake me up. Seeing I wasn't convinced, she nodded, confirming my suspicions. _Uhh... OK! I'll take your word for it. So... what's going on? What are you two up--_ _Ooh, no! No way! You two aren't playing matchmaker, are you?_ "I don't think I like what I think you two are cooking up," I said. "We aren't cooking up anything, Mitch. You need to get out, and this is as good an occasion for it as any," Kathy said, with Mom nodding her agreement. "Just hold it there! If you haven't heard it yet, or didn't realize it up to now, let me put it clearly. I'm not interested in going out with any one," I said softly, but making it clear I wasn't going to allow any interference with my personal life. "Mitch, come on. It's just a party. Sarah likes you, and no, not like that; she has a boyfriend. You've known each other since we were kids. You like her. She even promised to sing, and keep the _girls_ away from you. It will be fun, and you'll enjoy it. I don't have an escort, and I don't want to go there alone. There are no hidden agendas, OK?" "I find that hard to believe, Sis. No offense intended, but I know how your mind works," I replied, still not convinced. "You make your own decisions. Nobody will force you to date Sarah, or any other girl. Everybody knows you always do what you want, and I know it would be pointless to suggest anything. So, what are you afraid of? What's your problem? Don't tell me you're scared of seeing Sarah?" Kathy asked, successfully cornering me with her logic. _You're some piece of work, Sis. I'm glad you didn't get to be a lawyer, and I pity the guy that marries you._ I gave her an appraising look, trying to see what else she would be springing on me, but she returned my gaze with the same appraising look. She had a self satisfied smile on her lips, and I didn't think it was related to winning the argument. No, this was something else, and that made me wonder. I went through the short exchange trying to see what else was hidden that would make her react like that. I got the feeling she had engineered the whole discussion. The party at Sarah's place, the whole thing about how Sarah had changed were interesting revelations and caught me by surprise, but why would Kathy open up the subject to raise my suspicions, almost inviting a confrontation? She didn't invite a confrontation, she directed us right into the confrontation about my personal life and affairs, knowing full well how I would react, and then, successfully cornered me with her logic. What would she gain by irritating me, except the possibility that I would refuse to go to a party she wanted to go to? I took out my pack and lit a cigarette, while paying attention to her as surreptitiously as I could. She knew what I was doing, and wasn't bothered. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself, and didn't hide it. _Damn, Kathy! You pulled one over me, and feel real smug about it, don't you?_ When I looked at her I could see her eyes were laughing at me. I gave her a small smile, with a warning look that hinted at a payback she wouldn't like, but she nonchalantly shrugged it off. She knew I wouldn't be a real bad ass about it; it was an empty threat. We used to parry like that a lot when we were kids, enjoying the battle of wits. _Well, let's see how good you're at strategy, Kathy._ "Saturday... what time is the party?" I asked, as if I had given up, and feigning interest. "So, you're going?" she asked suddenly enthusiastic, without realizing that she had just walked into my hand. I didn't answer, but kept smiling, and she realized her mistake. Once her smug smile faded, I said, "I didn't say that, yet, did I? I need to know the time, to see if I could make it." "_What_!!! You have a _prior_ engagement?" she retorted snootily. "Let's say, I have plans, and I need to know if I have to shuffle my schedule." "You're being a _rat_, Mitch, and you know it," she replied indignantly. Just then, Mom stood up, and smiling at both of us, she said, "You two take it easy! Don't break anything. I'm not going to clean up your mess." Mom used to say that when we were younger and involved in battles like this. Finally, we were alone in the kitchen, and I wondered who would surrender first. I knew Kathy would stick to her guns, as I would. I was planning to take her to the party, but I was curious about why she had engineered the previous exchange. I decided to lay my cards on the table and see where it would take me. "Kathy, I'll take you to the party." "And?" "And? What do you mean, 'and'?" I asked. "You have something up your sleeve, Bro. Out with it," she responded hotly, with a suspicious tone. "I don't have anything up my sleeve. And if I did, why should I tell you?" She mulled something in her mind, then asked, "What's on your mind, Mitch?" "How about a little bit of _quid pro quo_?" I replied. "On what?" she asked. "OK, Sis. Here's the deal. I won't pay you back for the stunt you just pulled. In fact, I won't pay you back for any of the stunts you pulled today, starting with your quip about who I saw in the airport, and including all the singing and dancing about Sarah. I'm just curious about what you were really trying to accomplish with that little confrontation a few minutes ago." Then, thinking over the whole quid pro quo thing, I decided to be even more generous. This was Kathy, after all, and the issue was minor, so I said, "I've changed my mind. For what it's worth, I'm not even going to hold you up to the _quid pro quo_. Rest easy, I'm not going to pay you back for anything , whether you explain what you were up to or not." She got up from her chair, and stood by my side, then leaning, she hugged me, whispering, "I love you, Mitch. I missed you." "I missed you too, Sis. But, sometimes you drive me crazy," I retorted. "That's what sisters are for," she came back with a laugh. "I guess. I should have asked Mom and Dad for a brother instead of a sister." That quip earned me an elbow, making me grunt. She could get heavy handed at times, and this was one of them. "Jeez, Sis. Take it easy. No wonder the guys are scared of you." _Oh, shit! Now she'll rip my head off._ Luckily, she let that pass, and returned to her chair. "So you're curious about what happened?" I shrugged my shoulders. "As I said... I won't die if you want to keep it to yourself." "Well, I have one word for you." She paused, waiting to see if she would draw a reaction from me. When I didn't respond, she continued. "Shampoo. Your new shampoo," she said, as if that explained all. "My shampoo? What about my shampoo?" I asked, feigning puzzlement. I knew what she was getting at, but I wasn't going to confirm her suspicions. "Come on, Mitch. I know what I smelled." "Oh, really! Say, if I was sitting in a taxi for half an hour, which smelled like the prior occupant had broken a bottle of powerful perfume, you would assume I had been with a woman? Or because I didn't want to talk about the person I met in the airport--by the way, you don't know many of my high school friends--that person automatically becomes a _she_ with whom I'm having a secret affair? Interesting deductive technique, Sis. Warped, but interesting," I retorted with a smug smile. That gave her a pause, but it was short lived. "So, why did you say it was your shampoo, instead of explaining about the smelly taxi? I don't buy it, Bro." "Believe what you will. You think I picked up somebody at the airport? Hmmm... I must be getting my old charm back in a hurry. Good, I can use some of that old charm at the party." She knew I didn't have girl friends, especially in the last couple of years. She suspected I had a few short-lived flings and considering the fact that I wasn't a monk, she expected them, but she also knew they had been too infrequent for a guy my age. Even before all that, I wasn't much of a success with girls, so my last delivery gave her food for thought, so much so that her face fell. She remembered why I was away from home. I felt guilty making her feel bad, but more so because I had lied. Well, not exactly lied, but I had misrepresented partial truths, letting her draw her own conclusions. Of course I had met an old friend, and one that she knew--my nemesis--although we haven't gone to the same school, so that was definitely a misrepresentation. And, I didn't pick up Dana, she picked me up, so that wasn't much of a misrepresentation. I didn't know how I could justify my actions, even though she had no business nosing around my private affairs, but... She was my sister. _Where do I draw the line? If I told her to mind her own business, I would be continuously fending off her probing. She would eventually succeed, unless I took stern measures, but then, that would mean hurting her feelings. She loves me, and she just doesn't take 'no' as an answer._ _I'm not going to hurt you, Kathy. I hurt enough people. Yesterday, 'her,' then this morning, Dana, and now..._ "Sis? It's OK!" I said softly. She shook her head. "Kathy!" I raised my voice trying to shake her up, and succeeding in getting her attention, I said, "I need your promise on something." "What?" "I need you to promise me something." "What do I have to promise, Mitch?" she asked, curious and apprehensive at the same time. "Nothing big or bad. I just want you to promise not to ask questions about what I'm going to tell you." "You're scaring me, Mitch. I can't make a promise like that." "Come on, Kathy. You don't trust me? It's nothing big or serious, but I don't want you bothering me with a lot of questions. You have to settle for what I'm going to tell you. Nothing more, nothing less." She might have been unsettled, but her mind was still sharp, so she went for the jugular. "This is about yesterday, and your friend, isn't it?" "Yes, it is. Now, do I have your promise?" "No, you don't. Eventually, you'll give it up," she retorted. _Jeez, Kathy. Grow up, will you? I'm not going to put up with that._ "I think, I better stay here or get a room in a hotel," I replied. "What are you hiding, Mitchell? You wouldn't go to such lengths, if it wasn't someth-- Oh, my God! You rat bastard! I was right. You lied to me, you little shit! And I was sitting here feeling sorry about you. How could you? I'm your sister!" "Then, please, act like one, Kathy. And grow up, will you? I told you countless times not to nose into my affairs. Do I bother you about your boyfriends, or nose into your private affairs? No, I don't. When are you going to learn there are some boundaries, Sis?" I said softly, trying to reason with her, instead of using an admonishing tone. I was surprised at myself, and how calmly I delivered those words. If this had been happening a year or two ago, my tone would have been colored by irritation, if not filled with resentment. Kathy didn't respond immediately, but kept her gaze on me scrutinizing me carefully. After several minutes, she said, "I know I deserve some of the things you said, but I don't think I deserved that line about staying here or in a hotel. I am your sister, Mitchell. Do you really feel like that? You're never around, and you've grown distant over the last several years. Do I deserve that? Do Mom and Dad deserve that?" "Katherine, don't try the guilt trip on me," I replied, reverting to a formal tone, despite my best intentions. Collecting myself, I tried again, this time with a gentler tone. "We are not kids anymore. I have my own life, and you have yours. That's a fact of life. Just because I'm away doesn't mean I love you less. You left home before I did. I wasn't the one who went to boarding school at fifteen. You were the one who came home only during the weekends, holidays and vacation periods. You were the one who came back changed at an early age. Did I love you less for it, because you were away? Did I make an issue of it?" I took a deep breath, and added, "I didn't even leave home for college, Kathy, because the local college had the best engineering branch in the whole country. You think I've changed in the last few years? I changed when I was a sophomore, and had to do my first industry training at the rig. I tasted freedom for a mere six weeks, but it was enough, I enjoyed it. I didn't particularly like the desert, but I was looking forward to going there again, after graduation. After my junior year, after the second industry practice, I was sure of it. What happened during the later part of that summer, had very little to do with my decision. Well, to a certain extent. I'm not going to get into the details. The point is I was going to go away from home." "I'm not talking about your decision. I'm talking about how you grew distant," Kathy said. "Come on, Kathy. You weren't the same when you came back from boarding school. We were suddenly distant. That's what happens. You had your peers, I had mine. Does that mean I loved you less, or you loved me less?" She got thoughtful at that. "Yes, we were distant... to a certain degree... but..." "But what, Kathy?" "But I never shut anybody out of my life. You shunned everybody. Mom, Dad, me, your friends. You don't talk. "Oh, come on. You're exaggerating the whole thing." "Mitchell, that's enough bullshit. Are you blind... or in denial? You and Mom used to sit up late at night, talking till the wee hours of the morning. How do I know? Because, Mom told me. You used to laugh... a lot... when watching something on TV. You used to tell jokes. Now, not anymore. You never socialized much, but used to spend some time with friends. Now, you just take vacations by yourself. Tell me if I'm wrong." "What do you want me to say, Kathy?" "I want you to--" "I'm not going to talk about it. Let's get that straight and out of the way. I don't feel like talking about some things. There is no way in hell anybody or anything that can or that will make me talk about things I don't want to discuss. Is that clear?" When she didn't reply, I forced myself to relax, before I repeated my question. "Is that clear?" She didn't reply, but was watching me carefully. Finally, breaking the silence, she said, "Tell me something, Mitch. Are you using your training, now?" That non sequitur threw me for a loop. "What?" "Are you using your training? You know, the stuff that you used to practice? Something like meditation... the sinking into... I don't know what you used to call... the depth or something... the thing you explained you were using when practicing with your swords?" "The Void?" "Yeah, the void. Are you using that, now?" "No. Why should I? I haven't used it for a long time, and my swords are here. I haven't touched them since... well... for quite some time." "You don't practice anymore?" she blurted. It was obvious, she hadn't expected my answer. "I practice Tai Chi. I haven't practiced anything else for quite some time. Why?" "Nothing. I didn't expect you to quit your practice. On the previous subject, yes, we are clear," she said. "But that doesn't mean you're scot-free. I haven't made any promises." "If that's the way it's going to be," I said with a shrug I didn't feel. "You're still staying at my place, Bro." "Now, you're dictating terms to me?" I asked, more amused than irritated. If this had happened a year or more ago... She didn't answer, but kept watching me, searching my face, and I could see her mind was busy with something. Then with a chuckle, she said, "My, my, my... Whoever she is, I want to meet her... one day." Her comment took me by surprise, making me realize how ill- equipped I had been to deal with Kathy. "What are you talking about?" I asked, putting all my acting abilities to put the right tone of puzzlement in my voice. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about, or rather, _whom_ I'm talking about. She must be something... How long have you known her?" she asked, going straight for the kill. "Kathy, I told you a minute ago. You have to know when to leave the table, while you're still ahead. So, back off. You know I don't like to repeat myself." I wasn't pissed at all, and I should have been. Somehow I found myself rather enjoying her efforts, and fending off her attention. It reminded me of earlier years, when we were kids. I missed her sharp mind. But, still, I wasn't ready to talk about my private affairs. At least I was enjoying this sibling battle, instead of resenting her. She was, after all, being Kathy. "For the time being, Mitch... for the time being... I can wait. For what it's worth, she's good for you. I can see that. You may not have realized it, but I haven't seen you so calm for a long time, even when I was getting on your nerves. You have to decide where you want to stay. Don't worry, I'll give you your space and won't bother you anymore," she said. Then with a wicked grin, she added, "Not any more than I have to, that is. I'd rather have you at my place, but it's up to you." _Do I want to stay at your place? Tough question. I don't want to be put through the grinder again, Kathy. I love you, but you try my patience. I hope I won't hurt your feelings, if you keep it up too long._ I knew she wanted me at her place, and I missed her as much as she missed me. In the end, it wasn't hard to decide. She still had to go to school and work, so even if she wanted to grill me she wouldn't have much time to do it, and I doubted she would attempt something like this anytime soon. What's more, I wanted to make her happy. "Sure, Sis. I'll stay at your place. No problems." "Thank you, Mitch." "You're welcome," I replied with a patronizing tone, but she knew I was teasing her, so she didn't rise to the bait. "So, what's the plan, Bro? What do you want to do?" "I'd like to take a short nap. I'm pretty tired from the last few days. Then we'll see how it goes. Are you working tomorrow?" "Nope, I'm off duty until Monday. A few of the girls owed me time, so we switched and shuffled the shifts." _Isn't that just great!!!_ I quickly chased that thought away. She had gone to great lengths to be with me and here I was acting unappreciative. "Tomorrow I need to go to the garage, and that would probably take several hours, perhaps half a day. I'm afraid, you'd be wasting your off duty time." "Can't you just leave the car, and then pick it up when it's ready?" "I want to be there when they go over it. I want to make sure they do it properly." "Sometimes you go overboard, Mitch. Don't you ever trust people?" "Let me tell you something, Sis. If I had to let our rig mechanic check my car, I could easily trust him, because I know him and how thorough he is. I don't know the guys in the garage. I can't assume they'll do a good job. Say, one of the guys didn't check the brake pads and replace the worn out ones, and I had to brake hard, what do you think would happen? Working on the rig-site I have learned never to assume anything. We even have a good saying about that particular habit: 'Assumptions are the mother of all fuck ups'." "You're such a control freak." "Just because I'm being cautious? Whatever you say, Sis." She shrugged it off, and said, "We'd better get moving then." "What about Mom and Dad?" "We'll be having dinner here, tomorrow night, and I think Mom would appreciate if you could get here early in the afternoon." I nodded my agreement. We said our goodbyes to Mom--Dad was asleep--and left for Kathy's place, in her car. * * * * * CHAPTER - 10: Siblings Kathy had a nice, small, two-bedroom flat, not too far from where my parents lived. Although the place was small, especially the living room, which included a modern kitchen in one corner, she managed to make it look bigger that it was. I hadn't seen it for quite some time, and the few occasions I dropped by were just to take her out to some place. I had a late brunch or lunch with her a few times, but I hadn't paid much attention to her place, and what she had done with it. Now, because I was going to spend some time here, I was curious how it looked like, and what changes she had made. I still remembered the time when my parents and I had to help her to make the move, two years ago. Mom and Kathy had spent several days during a short break Kathy had from her studies, visiting second hand stores for some good quality furniture, and making the arrangements for delivery, while Dad and I had spent a few days, going through the flat, fixing things like electrical wiring and fittings, window insulation, and any other simple things we could fix. We also had compiled a list of items that would require an electrician, a carpenter and a plumber to fix, and then waited on the guys while they did their job. To tell the truth I wasn't much of a handy man, never had been one, but I had learned some things on the rig, especially about electrical safety and some plumbing, so when I saw what the electrician was doing--the one we called from a nearby shop in the neighborhood--I got into an argument with him. I had a copy of the building code in my hand and saw him using the wrong rated cable to replace the existing but damaged wiring. When Dad realized what was happening, he ran him off. Quite many of the electricians, plumbers and carpenters learned their craft as apprentices, but the whole apprenticeship was very flawed--the education system wasn't much of a help also, without proper control mechanisms in place--and, with many of the the guys lacking some necessary education in science and math, and worse, lacking an interest in their craft, it was always a very difficult proposition to find a good, and reliable electrician or a plumber. That is not to say there weren't qualified people, like high school or college graduates, but the ones that actually did the work were only skilled for manual work, and the college graduates were more of the engineer type who weren't inclined to get their hands dirty doing the menial work, but supervise the ones that did the menial work. But, there were many small shops that were sort of a jack-of-all-tades kind, and did a lot of repairs, fixes from electricity to plumbing to carpentry, and the quality varied a lot. The worst part of the whole deal was, of course, the quick-and-dirty fixes they came up with during a job. For example, they would use a size smaller cable not rated for the job, if they ran out of the required cable when they were doing the wiring, not giving a second thought to the possibility of an electrical fire hazard. If I hadn't seen how things were done by our electrician at the rig site, and learned things from him, I wouldn't be aware of such problems. Not only that, but in the first place, he should have known his stuff and done it properly--as naïve as that sounds--but such was the situation, and if you didn't take precautions and had no idea what they were doing, you could easily get screwed, major time! So, in the end, I went through the _Yellow Pages_, looking for a good electrician, instead of the local quick-fix type of shops in the neighborhood. I found a couple, but when I heard their prices, Dad and I knew we had to do some work ourselves. Dad managed to convince one of them to send a guy in to check the situation and make us a list of what is needed, and then we would try to do parts we could, and give the rest of the work to them. It worked perfectly, and I remember how proud Dad was, when the electrician came to do their part, and inspecting my work, gave a more than a passing note. I guess, it was because Dad was worse than me as a handy man. He could do some carpentry(!)--read, could nail two wooden planks--and fix some simple plumbing problems, and that was the extent of his abilities. Well, that was to be expected, as he was a white-collar; having been a desk jockey most of his life. I was supposed to be a white-collar, too, but ended up being something of a white- and blue-collar. After all the work was done, we helped the women folk to clean the house. Then, while they got busy buying and fixing curtains and other necessary stuff, Dad and I did the painting, something which we both were very accustomed to, after moving from one rental place to another several times over the years. And since Mom and Kathy weren't around, we could get it done without any interference from them. I guess we both had fun, and surely, without the distraction of comments like: "Be careful. You're dripping paint there!" or "This part requires another coat!" and similar, we finished the job in record time. Afterwards, we had to clean up a few spots, but there weren't many spills or paint drops. I remember Dad and I sharing a look and bursting into laughter; we both were thinking whether the presence of the women during the previous times was what jinxed the painting jobs. Finally, the day arrived for the move, and we packed Kathy's stuff, and got it moved to her flat, and during the day, the other deliveries, such as the furniture from various stores arrived. Dad and I made several trips back and forth to get some of the delicate stuff like TV, stereo, and glassware, not trusting a moving company to be careful with the stuff. It wasn't a long distance, and required only a few trips from my parents' place to Kathy's flat. In a few hours we finished the whole move. By evening time, Dad and I finished assembling the bookshelves, the bed, the wardrobe, while the women got the kitchen in order, unpacking the glassware and other stuff. Just before dinner time, we had the living room also sorted out, the furniture placed as required, and then Dad and I went out to get two big pizzas and a bottle of red wine to celebrate. After dinner , at Mom's urging we didn't hang around but left; she knew Kathy was anxious to have the place to herself for the first time in her life. Next day, I was on the road for my vacation. When I returned, I saw Kathy before taking my flight, and she told me about her first night in her flat; she had been up all night long, sitting in the living room, reading and listening to music, finally going to bed around four in the morning, tired, but happy. I could sympathize with the feeling. I looked around to see if she made any changes, but it looked the same. There were few additions; a couple of small low tables next to the couches, and a sturdy low table for the TV and the stereo which used to sit on the floor, a sit-sack, and some new pictures on the walls. I remember the time Kathy and I shopped for some pictures and posters, and framing them at home before hanging them on the walls. _The Scripps Pier_ by Ansel Adams--my choice which Kathy loved--and a few more reproductions of his scenic photos occupied the main wall behind the big couch. By the side of the window were small sized pictures, mostly the works of Kim Anderson, which I thought were really girly-girl kind of pictures, especially Kathy's favorite, _The First Kiss_, but I knew why she had chosen it. Dad had taken a picture of us when we were about three or four years old, that depicted us in a similar pose--I didn't have a rose in my hand, but I was kissing Kathy on the cheek. Her new additions to the collection were a bunch of medium size pictures of smoke filled rooms and Jazz Musicians, occupying an empty spot on the wall, above the stereo. I wasn't sure if she had chosen them for the mood the pictures depicted, rather than an actual interest in Jazz music, but Kathy was always full of surprises--and I wasn't stupid enough to bet either way! I took my suitcase to the spare bedroom. I recognized her old bed. It used to be in her bedroom, but it looked like she had changed the bed in the master bedroom, and put her old bed here. Above the bed, on the wall, was a picture that I knew very well; one of the female nude works of Mick Payton. I had sneaked it in without Kathy's knowledge when we were shopping for pictures, and later hung it in her bedroom, earning myself a quip: "Hey! I'd rather have a picture of some hunk in my bedroom. Something that shows tight buns, and not tits!" I turned at her, giving a quizzical look about the picture. "Well, if you'd rather prefer, I can hang one of the Kim Anderson pictures," she said flashing me a teasing grin. "No, thank you. That will do _just fine_!" I replied hastily. "I thought it would," she said, before leaving the room. _Paybacks... eventually they catch up, whatever I do to evade them!_ I smiled at the thought, since it was obvious Kathy had on purpose moved the picture from her bedroom to what was, now, temporarily my bedroom. I would have preferred one of the Ansel Adams scenic photos, but... I checked what was brought here from my parents', and went through the wardrobe. It looked like almost all my clothes were brought in, some already in the hangers, and the rest distributed in various shelves. Other items like socks, underwear, etc. were in one of the drawers. As I was checking out shelves, and drawers, I noticed a black duffel bag at the bottom floor of the wardrobe. I took it out and set it on the floor. Opening the zipper, I checked the contents. It had been a long time, but I knew what was in there: my practice katana, wakizashi, a bokken (the wooden sword), a white gi set (the canvas cotton trousers and jacket), a long and narrow carry bag with a shoulder sling for the swords, and a small box with various items related to upkeep of the swords. I took out the bokken and the katana to inspect them. Pulling the katana from its scabbard, I checked the polish. Satisfied with that, I tested the balance and the feel of the sword. It felt heavier than I thought it was, but more than that, it was disconcerting to discover that it felt foreign; it wasn't a natural extension anymore. _Do I want to practice again? I don't know. Maybe I should start practicing with the bokken and see where it would take me._ Carefully sliding the blade into the scabbard, I returned the katana into the duffel bag and picked up the bokken. It was still in good condition. The surface was slick with wood oil and I didn't see any cracks. I was zipping up the duffel bag when I felt Kathy standing at the door. Looking over my shoulder, I saw her scrutinizing me. I was surprised that this duffel bag was here. I expected it to be left at my parents' place. Kathy had never said anything, but I always thought she didn't like some of my training, and wasn't comfortable with the contents of the duffel bag. Another subject I was loath to talk about, especially with Kathy. When I raised an eyebrow, she said, "If you have any dirty laundry in your suitcase, I can put them in the washer." "I don't have much, Sis. I can get it." "Well, if you want to risk wearing pink underwear, then do it yourself." "Come on, Sis. Whites separate, colored separate. I've washed my own stuff before." "Do you iron as well?" she teased. "Don't rub it in, will you?" She wasn't going to let it go. "Do you still cook?" "Nope. We have cooks and other staff that do the cleaning and washing at the rig-site." "Well, since you've been spoiled by all that service, I better get your stuff washed," she retorted with a snort. "Suit yourself. It's not locked," I replied, then took the duffel bag and placed it back in the wardrobe. I put the wooden sword on the dresser. I wanted to take it with me for the vacation, and I didn't want to forget it. Sensing I was being watched, I turned to face Kathy. "Are you going to practice?" she asked. "Nope. I'll take it with me for my vacation." She had an unreadable expression on her face. "Kathy, what is it?" "Nothing," she replied. Before I could say anything, she turned and got busy going through my suitcase, separating the items into neat piles for washing. Over her shoulder, she said, "You'll find a bath towel in the bathroom. Go and take a shower, then get some sleep. I need to do some shopping--back in a few hours." Fifteen minutes later I was in bed. I wasn't sure if I would get much sleep, but a short nap wouldn't do any harm. I still had to catch up with my sleep. * * * * * _The sky was a strange mix of blue and gray, the darker colored clouds in constant shift, mixing and interloping with each other. Standing on the wet sand, I looked at where the horizon should be, but I couldn't distinguish sea from sky. They were both the same indistinct blue-gray. The rain was coming down gently, but in a continuous sheet, made up of fine droplets, blurring the details. The whole scene looked like a delicate painting on rice paper._ _I heard footsteps on wooden planks and turned towards the sound. A girl was walking, headed for the small boat secured to the side of the wharf. Untying the ropes, she threw them in and jumped in the boat. I didn't catch her face, but she looked familiar. I was trying to get a good look and almost started in her direction, when I was stopped by a hand on my arm. I turned around and came face to face with Dana. She released her hold and brushing my cheek with the back of her fingers, pulled me for a gentle kiss. Breaking the kiss, she nodded in the direction of the boat. When I turned back, I saw 'her'--19 years old, her black hair wet and stringy from rain--sitting in the boat; one hand on one of the oars and the other waving me goodbye. She had a happy smile on her face. I wasn't sure if her face was wet from tears or the rain._ _I looked back at Dana and she shooed me away, urging me to go to the boat. When I didn't respond, her expression changed and she mouthed, "Go!"_ _When I turned my attention back to the boat, the girl was already getting ready to row away from the wharf. As I started to walk towards her, she saw me coming and waved goodbye again, then started rowing the boat away. I ran, but she shook her head with a smile on her face. By the time I was at the edge of the wharf, the boat was out of reach. She stopped rowing and motioned me to go back._ _I heard footsteps behind me and a quick glance revealed Dana making her way to me. Her eyes were on the boat and when she was standing next to me, she beckoned to the boat, urging the girl to row back to the wharf. But, the girl just shook her head and gave a small wave, bidding Dana and I goodbye, and picked up the oars again. I felt Dana push me over the side and fell into the water..._ With a lurch I came awake, feeling somebody trying to push me back to bed and something wet on my forehead. "Shssshhh! Mitch. Take it easy. You were having a bad dream," somebody whispered. I was panting and I couldn't get enough oxygen. The air seemed too thin. I tried to breathe normally, but felt like I was suffocating. Something cold soothed my forehead and a cold hand caressed my neck, while a soft voice repeated, "Breathe slowly. Calm down." The cold hand and the wet towel on my forehead helped me to focus my attention, and collect my senses. My breathing eased. Feeling my back arched, muscles tensed, I relaxed and let myself onto the bed. Kathy was leaning over me, concern written all over her face. Trying to ease her worries I tried to smile, but she didn't buy it. "I'm OK, Kathy. Just a bad dream." "Who is the doctor here?" she replied. She lifted the sheet and ran her hand over my chest. "You're wet. You don't have a fever, but you're wet with sweat. That's not good, Mitch." "Maybe I'm coming down with something. It was cold the last two nights on the rig, and I spent most of the time outside," I offered. "Maybe," she replied, but she wasn't convinced. "Do you remember anything of your dream?" "No. I only remember falling and that's when I woke up. I'll be all right, Sis. I just need a shower." Taking the wet towel, she wiped my face and neck, then asked me to sit up. When I did, she asked if I was feeling dizzy, but I was feeling OK. She didn't interrogate me further, which surprised me, but I was grateful for the break. I took a long luxurious shower, while she changed the sheets on the bed. I was troubled by the dream and what it meant. I didn't have episodes like that. I had nightmares, but I didn't remember much of them afterwards, and usually they were a jumble of things that didn't make any sense. Contrary to what I said, I remembered everything that took place in this dream. When I walked into the living room, I found Kathy talking on the phone. Seeing me, she cut her talk short and finished the call. "How are you feeling?" "I'm all right. Sooo... what's the plan?" I said, trying to change the subject. "You still feel like going out? I could fix something here." "Kathy, when I say I'm all right, I mean _all right_. So, tell me.. where do you want to go?" "There's a new place, really a strange mix, though. Owned and operated by a Russian couple, they have Russian and Greek specialties. I think you'll like it. They also have live music, first some Russian folk music with balalaika, and later, Greek music with bouzouki." "That's a strange mix. Why don't they go with one or the other as a theme?" "I don't know. I think the guy is Russian and the girl is Greek, or something," Kathy replied with a chuckle. "Sounds good to me. Who's driving?" "We're taking a cab. I'm going to drink and I know you'd like to have a few. I want both of us to enjoy the night." That was strange. I knew she drank, but not much. Usually she ended up being the designated driver, so she didn't drink most of the time. _Taking a cab means she's going to let her hair down. Is that good or bad? Let's see._ "I can do without the drinks. No need to take a cab. I'll drive." "If you want to, but I think you'll miss the fun and the atmosphere," she replied and headed to her room to change. _Hmmm ... She doesn't look like she's planning anything._ I watched the news on TV for a few minutes, but getting bored with the repetitious crap about a fire in a hotel, I switched to a documentary channel. Kathy came back, dressed in a slinky, black evening dress, and high heels, with a small overcoat in her hand. She had a little bit of make-up and I didn't see any jewelry, which reminded me... "You look good. I better take my jacket," I said and went to my room to pick up the little present for her. When she found out what I had bought her, she loved it and immediately put it on. With the décolletage in the front, the necklace made a striking contrast with the dress and her tanned skin; just as I expected when I bought it. Before we left, I remembered I had to call Dana tonight. "Kathy, are we going to be staying up late?" "No, not really. That's why we're going early. They close the place by midnight, and it's a weeknight. They are open later hours only on Fridays and Saturdays. Why?" "I need to make a call tonight and I don't know if I have to leave a message for them to expect a call or not." "_Them_? You mean _her_, don't you?" she said with a snort. When I didn't react, she said, "I'll be good, Mitch. I'll be reeaaal gooood," making me laugh. "Yeah? Why am I afraid of that?" "Come on. Let's go. We have to be back in time for your call... to _them_!" she retorted, letting out a teasing laugh. * * * * * The restaurant was on the outskirts, in a pretty run-down section of town. From the outside it didn't look like much, but the inside was a surprise. Ambient lighting was low, but not uncomfortably dark. The dark wood finish on the walls gave a sense of being in an old house. Old oil lamps complimented the atmosphere. The chairs were also wood, stylish in an old fashioned manner, but uncomfortable. However, the whole atmosphere was great, and with the live music and great tasting food, that little discomfort was easy to overlook. I'd had Greek food a lot of times, so I went for the Russian specialties, complimented with a small bottle of vodka. Kathy chose Greek specialties and enjoyed a few glasses of Ouzo. I was surprised to see her drink that much, but she didn't show it at all. I've known girls who could drink, but only a few that liked Ouzo. It was, after all, an acquired taste. We tried a few bites from each other's plates. I was curious to see how good their Greek specialties were, compared to the other places I've been, and found out that some of the dishes were as good as I've ever had. Next time I would definitely go Greek. By the time the night was drawing to a close, Kathy was getting a bit giggly--well, more like nicely buzzed and bubbly. I loved to see her like that. But, she was careful and didn't go to excess. She ordered a cup of Greek coffee. I, on the other hand, chose to finish off my vodka with a lemon twist. A few years back, I had had a bad reaction to coffee after imbibing vodka, and I didn't want a repeat. I paid the tab and we left, arriving home before midnight. I didn't have to wait too long for the quip. "While I'm changing into something comfortable, why don't you call... _them_?" she said and headed to her room. After digging out Dana's number from my wallet, I called her. She picked it up after the second ring; must have been expecting my call. We talked about her day. She sounded tired but chipper, telling me she would rearrange her schedule and take a couple of days off. But, that would have to wait until Monday. When I asked if, in the next couple of days, she would be spending a few hours at the airport here, between flights, she was hesitant to answer. "Will you pass through the airport here, or have an overnight stay?" "Ummm. Probably..." "Probably? You don't know your schedule?" "It's... complicated." _Complicated? What's going on, Dana?_ I was a bit disappointed, but more than that, I was scared. Was she having second thoughts? "OK..." "Mitch, it's not what you think," she said in a hurry, hearing the uncertainty in my tone. "It's all right, Dana. I understand," I replied, trying hard to keep the strain from my voice. "It's not about you. It's... Well, she will be back on Saturday, and I'll be flying with her the next couple of days," she replied with a sigh. "I see..." _Damn! This complicates things, but I can't keep on planning my life around HER! This isn't fair to Dana, or to me._ I was getting agitated. I didn't know what to say to Dana. I was tempted to say 'the hell with _her_!' but I didn't want to put Dana in an awkward position. "Dana, I don't know what to say... No, that's not true. I know what I want to say, but I don't want to put pressure on you or put you on the spot. Dammit! This is getting ridiculous!" "Mitch, calm down. Look, this is something we knew was coming. We can't avoid it." "I-I... I can't keep planning my life around her," I blurted. Dana went quiet at that. "Dana, you there?" "Yes, Mitch..." "I'm sorry. I just want to get to know you and... it feels like I won't even get that chance." "Mitch, we both need time. We can't rush into this. Don't you think a few days apart will be good for both of us?" "I... Yeah. I know, but... If you're saying this because of her, I can't accept it. If you're saying it because that's the way you feel..." "Now, you are putting me on the spot, Mitch." That gave me a pause. I didn't want to put pressure on her, but then I remembered my dream and that filled me with a chill. "Mitch?" "Sorry. You're right... A few days apart might do us some good." "Mitch, I miss you... it's not been a day yet, and I miss you. But, we need to be patient, and work this thing out," she said softly. "I miss you too, Dana. I'll wait..." "Good. Now... I can't promise anything, but if I figure out something I'll let you know. Where can I reach you?" "That's going to be a problem. I'm staying with my sis, and... well... it's kinda _complicated_," I finished using her own expression, and laughing at my choice. "What kinda _complicated_?" she asked with an amused tone. "She's being kinda _sisterly_." "She figured out you have a new woman in your life?" she asked with a giggle. "Yeah... something like that. It's not that I'm trying to keep it a secret, but she usually gets overzealous trying to figure out what's happening in my life," I said with a resigned tone. "If she's the kind that I'm guessing she is, she probably cares and is being protective." "I can do without the protection." That earned me a laugh and she came back with, "That bad, huh?" "Try, 'not taking _no_ for an answer' for size and see how it fits," I retorted. "Ohh... she's my kind of girl," she teased. "How old is she?" "Physically or mentally?" I quipped getting a giggle for my effort. "She's 24, but her mental age varies between 15 and 60." "That sounds just about right... I've got to meet her sometime," she replied with an amused tone, and I chuckled at her reply. "What?" she asked. "Nothing." "Come on, Mitch." "Even though I didn't admit to anything, she had said exactly the same thing: 'I've got to meet her one day'." "Well... I can arrange that," she teased, making me shiver at the thought. "Oh, I'm sure you would get along fine. At least, you share the same passion and have a similar background. I'm just worried about how I could deal with the two of you." "Really? Tell me more. What's she like? What does she do?" "She's at the med school; finished her sixth year a few months ago. Now, she's going for her specialization." "Wow! Seriously, Mitch. If you don't mind, I would really like to meet her." "Oh, I do mind! But... I don't see how I could prevent it," I replied half-joking, but there was a slight edge to my voice. That gave her a pause and she hesitantly asked, "You're serious about this, aren't you?" "It's not about you, Dana. It's about the past, and _her_. I don't talk about her and nobody knows much about what happened or how it happened..." I didn't finish my sentence, but Dana was quick to get my meaning. "You mean, I'm the only one..." "Yes. Look, I'm not implying anything, OK? I just know my sister. She's devious. I can't even think of a plausible answer to the question of how we met or why we met. A small slip up, and she'll be all over me like white on rice. She won't try anything with you, but I'll be put through the wringer. I love her, but I won't put up with certain things." Changing to a less serious tone, I added, "I don't really mind it, Dana. I think it might be good, especially if you can, somehow rein her in. I love her too much and she... well, she knows that." "Are you sure, you're not scared of the idea that your sister and I would form a sisterly pact?" she teased. "Well... OK! I'll admit it. The thought crossed my mind... more than once," I replied with a chuckle. "How serious are you about meeting her, Dana?" "Pretty serious." "Any particular reason?" "It's hard to explain... We really need to talk about these things face to face, Mitch." "I guess... I was just curious. I don't need to know your reasons. Maybe it would be better. I have handled her before, so don't worry about it too much." "Are you sure?" "Yes, Dana, I'm sure. I don't want to sneak around, or hide." "OK!" she said. After a short pause, she asked, "You're not going to tease her to death about me, are you?" I almost missed the amused tone. She was sharp. I hadn't even thought about the possibilities. I would have eventually, but Dana had beaten me to it. "Darn! I was just thinking about the possibilities. How did you-- " "Honey, if I were in your shoes, I would have. After all the things you said about her..." "Hmmm... I'm not going to regret my decision, am I?" "I love you too much for that," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "I... I wanted to say those words first, Dana. Tonight just doesn't seem to be my night." "You said it first, Mitch... if you remember..." "Yes, but... you know what I mean." "I know." After a pause, she changed the subject, "Is she listed in the directory?" "Yeah. Katherine Tanner." For extra measure I gave her the number and address, which she noted down. As we finished our conversation with "I love you," my sister walked in, wearing her bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her hair. When I looked up, she had an amused expression. "Strange way to end a conversation. Considering, you were talking to _them_," she quipped. When I didn't respond, she continued, "I never thought I would hear you say those words again, Bro." That reminded me... _She_ had been the only one until recently. _Do I still love her, or am I in love with that 19 year old girl? What's going to happen with her... and Dana? What's the meaning of the dream?_ I didn't have an answer to any one of them. "Why? I say those words to you and good friends. I said it... to _them_," I replied with a teasing grin. "_Them_? Come on, Mitch. Why don't you spell it out? She's not a _them_. She has a name. At least use her name or say _she_. Do I have to find it out using my own means?" "That would prove to be a difficult task, Sis. You don't know _them_. You never met _them_," I goaded her. I was enjoying myself too much, especially pressing her buttons, after all the headache she had given me. I would eventually let her know, but I wanted her to sweat a bit. "_Really_?" she responded with an ominous tone, and I felt the hair rise at the back of my neck. Kathy never shied away from challenges. This wasn't the first time I wondered how we managed to avoid killing each other, considering how stubborn and competitive we had been since childhood. _What's she up to?_ "Yes, really. I gave you the opportunity before. You just had to give me your promise. Instead, you decided to act like a child. Give me your promise and I'll tell you about... _them_," I replied, flashing a grin. "How about... I don't give you my promise... and..." "And?" "Still find out about her... for example who she is?" she retorted smugly. "Not from me, Sis. I ain't saying nothing about... _them_!" "I didn't say you would. I just don't want you to get pissed off, when I get her name. That's all!" "Oh, I'm not worried about that." "OK! By the way, I'm going to throw you a freebie, and won't bother you with questions. Just so, you can't say I wasn't being sporting about this." I felt something cold run at my back, and almost shivered at the feeling. She never gave freebies! _Fuck! Twice in a day? I know you have a devious mind, but you can't be that lucky. What the hell am I missing?_ "If you're not going to bother me with questions, why is it so difficult to give me your promise?" I asked. "A promise is indefinite. It closes all the doors, and I know you'll hold me to it." "And the freebie is not a promise? It sounded almost like a promise." "That's where you're mistaken, dear brother. I'll get her name by my own means and I won't bother you with questions, until you tell me about her. After that, the doors don't stay closed. That's the difference." Giving me a devilish grin, she continued, "Not only that, but I can change my mind anytime I want. After all, I'm a woman and we are entitled. I won't do that with a promise, and you know that." I couldn't help but laugh at her antics. She could be entertaining when she wanted to be. She seemed so sure of herself I wanted to see how creative she would get, and how long it would take her to find out Dana's identity. "OK. I'll play. Do your worst." Suddenly, she got serious. "Mitch, I don't want to piss you off, OK? She's good for you, and I wouldn't mess it up for anything. Especially, something trivial like this challenge." "It's all right, Kathy. Really. I'm just curious what you're planning and how long it will take you." She was still not convinced, and for the first time I noticed something else. She was apprehensive about the aftermath; if our relationship would change for the worse. "Kathy, I'm game. Go ahead. Just like the old times." When she heard that she knew I meant it and her face lit up with enthusiasm. I guess we both missed our childhood closeness and here was a moment that captured it. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she asked, "Have you got a watch, dear brother?" "Watch? For what?" "I think this will be a record in terms of the shortest battle ever fought. I want it recorded for posterity!" she retorted with a big grin. "Sheeesh, Kathy. I hope you won't be rubbing it in every minute of the day." I was getting into the spirit of things. "Ahh, Mitch, I love you too much for that." At that, I almost blurted out what Dana had said. _I think you two will get along just fine, when you get to meet each other._ "I'm waiting, Sis. I'm curious how you're going to pull up a rabbit from a non-existent hat." With a smile on her face she walked to the telephone and picked it up. "I have my magic hat here," she retorted wickedly. _Shit! Redial. For fuck's sake, how the hell did I not think of it? She gave me enough hints and enough warning. She had been a real sport with this. I'll give her that._ Kathy was probably going to fake a wrong number call. I tried to recall how Dana responded to my call; she had used her full name. Kathy pressed the redial button and listened. "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number." While I expected the call to end, I saw Kathy sputter, her expression changing to a stunned surprise. She hesitated for a moment before replying with a timid, "Y-yes." The call wasn't finished and Kathy was still listening. I heard several 'hmmms' and 'ahhhs,' with a 'yes' thrown in between. _What the hell's going on?_ Finally, Kathy said, "Yes. I will. I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour." Then she finished the call with a "Good night." She had a dazed expression on her face, but also a smile. "OK, what just happened"? I asked, dreading the answer. From her expression, I was pretty sure Dana had caught Kathy at her game. "You have a very cool girl friend, Mitch. I like her." "She figured out who you were?" I asked the obvious. "It seems she had been forewarned," she came back. "I didn't say anything." "Well, it seems you've talked about me. When my call came a few minutes after yours, she got suspicious. So, she took a potshot, and... well, she scored." "Well, you did deserve that." "Yeah, I did. It was pretty embarrassing at first, but she was cool." I nodded. "She told me to tell you that everything was all right. She suggested I talk to you first, before you called her back." "What else did she say?" "Nothing. She was trying to put me at ease, that's all. She also said that she would like a call back from you. She'll be up for another hour." "OK, I'll call her. Anything else?" "Nope." "No, I mean, no questions from you?" "Well... I'm dying to know about her, but I'll wait. Just don't make me wait too long." "Kathy I can't promise anything; that's why I was trying to get your promise. You know me well enough to understand that I have my reasons. This isn't a high school romance thing." She nodded, still a bit shaken. I called Dana and we had a short talk. "How is she taking it?" she asked. "Pretty much dazed. How did you catch her?" "Nobody calls me at this hour, and it was a young woman's voice, and it came not too long after your call. I was just going to let it pass as a wrong number call, but... people are usually careful, especially young women, at this late hour, about whom they dial." She was sharp and her reasoning was simple. I laughed at how easily Kathy had been figured out. "Don't laugh, Mitch," she admonished me. "Why shouldn't I? You don't know what she did before pulling that trick on me." "She's a clever girl, Mitch, and resourceful. So what did you lose?" "Oh, nothing serious. In fact, I don't think she'll gloat about this, at all." "What do you mean?" "She had the gall to ask me if I had a watch." "Watch?" Dana repeated, confused. "Yeah. She said she wanted this to be recorded for posterity for the shortest battle ever fought." I had to keep the handset off my ear, as Dana let out a hoot. When she collected herself, she said, "I like her. She plays for keeps." "Well... I like her too. Especially the new Kathy I have," I said loudly, so Kathy would hear me. "Leave me out of your sibling rivalry, Mitch. And be nice to her," Dana said. Just then I had a pillow on my head. As usual, Kathy was reverting to her teenage self. "Uh, OK! Are you sure you wouldn't give me a hand with a pillow fight I'm invited to?" "What did she do? Throw a pillow?" "Yep." "You deserved it, Mitch." "I guess, I did. I better not keep you up. It's already late." "Tell her I like her. And, Mitch... I love you." "I love you too, Dana. Sleep tight." When I sat on the couch next to Kathy, she looked up expectantly. "I gathered you got her name. We've...just met, and somehow hit it off. She's a few years older than me, and... well, we want to see where we go. It's too early to say anything." She wasn't satisfied with that, so she asked, "Can't you at least tell me how you met her or what she does for work?" Those particular questions were the ones that I dreaded. They could open a whole can of worms and I didn't want that. Kathy had an incredible mind, when I least expected it. "We've met at the airport... but actually... she was on the same flight I was." Kathy was putting me under the microscope again and she knew I wasn't telling her much. She also saw through how carefully I constructed my reply. To my surprise, she moved on... to something I didn't want to talk about at all. "OK. So, you saw her in the plane. What does she do?" "She's a flight attendant," I replied trying to keep my voice level. For a moment her eyes widened in surprise and I could hear the wheels turning in her head. I don't know what she thought, but to my surprise she changed the subject, swiftly. "It's getting late, Bro. It's time to hit the bed. Tomorrow we need to wake up early. We'll catch breakfast with Mom and Dad, and then you can collect your car and go to the garage." I realized I was holding my breath and I let it out slowly. I nodded and gave her a goodnight kiss, before I made my way to my room. * * * * *