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The Mother We Shared

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Thanks so much to laemma for editing. Your amazingly fast turn around and supportive feedback were so incredibly appreciated. Je bent de beste.

In memory of May,

I don’t know if better stories were ever written about you, but if they were it was well deserved. This may not be the epic you might have liked, I can only write what I knew about you and from what you taught me – warts and all. Maybe one day I will explore more of who you were and give the world a better glimpse of the amazing life you probably lived. Likely with less all-girl, family orgies, but we’ll see what the publishers demand.

Suffice to say, you were the mother we needed and had you been our biological one than perhaps the strange circumstances we all found ourselves in would never have been necessary. That we might have been a little bit closer to the ‘normal’ everyone else goes on about. Or maybe we would have just had longer to continue the way we all loved one another and loved you.

Eventually we would go on to have husbands or wives of our own. Families would follow, but the specialness we sisters shared that started in your home would go on, staying just between us. A closeness no one else ever knew. A secret we would all be taking to our own graves.

You were not perfect, May, but no one really can be. Despite everything, you saved us from a lot: even though you didn’t have to and it shouldn’t have solely been your responsibility to do so. Thank you for loving us – is the only way it can be put. And wherever you are now, know that you are remembered and cherished.

I was home again. It had been almost three years of living-in-sin with my boyfriend Alex in our tiny, one bedroom apartment; trying to make a go of it in Quebec City. It’d been an adventure so far – the sights and culture, working days as a barista and nights serving drinks. I’d loved almost everything about it, even the constant demand to expand on my French.

I found myself stepping off the train, already I missed my two cats – Missile and Marble, but I was somewhat relieved to get a break from Alex. Even though he was largely on my mind, his recent unemployment had become an omnipresent present strain on us. We needed a week apart. Coming home was not my first choice, but where else did someone go if not back to see the family they’d left behind and hadn’t seen in years?

I steeled myself as I saw my older sister Ashley waiting for me when I reached the main terminal. Dressed in her torn jeans, buckled jacket, black hiking-boots and sporting scarlet highlights in her chestnut hair – she looked like she’d never moved on from high-school. She was the mother of one and in her early thirties, but she had never grown up, not completely.

She smiled as she spotted me. Abruptly, all the worrisome thoughts about our youth and highly untraditional family came rushing back to me. My stomach knotted and I became a tad ridged in her embrace. She kissed my cheek and said, “Welcome back, Emily.”

She pushed me to arms length and looked me up and down. I could tell she’d gotten the baby weight off, she was thicker in the legs and arms than I remembered, but it was clear just by brushing against her that it was mostly muscle, like she had been triathlon training.

“You look good, Ash,” I offered, forcing a more sincere smile.

“I’ve got a lot of people to take care of,” she replied stoically. “It keeps me busy.”

I nodded and she pinched my arm, drawing a yelp from me.

“You look like you’ve been living the soft life up north,” she said playfully.

“Two jobs and taking care of a depressed boyfriend gives me plenty of exercise,” I said. Her comment pissed me off, but it was Ashley’s way. She loved giving her sisters shit over even the smallest things. It was a cruddy trait she had picked up from our mother/monster, Irene. Yet truth be told, my sister wasn’t even a tenth as bad as our matron could be.

Ashley grabbed my heaviest bag and we walked to her car, she was still driving her beat-up jeep – gray and black with heavily tinted windows. The cloth cab was over it, due to it being late autumn and she slung my stuff inside as if she’d never heard of breakables, before unlocking my door.

I got in and we sped off. Ashley was the most aggressive driver in the family, despite her training. She peeled out of everywhere like she was outrunning a tsunami and weaved erratically across lanes, all while smoking and talking loudly over the combined roars of engine and radio.

She asked me about life, filled me in on how my nephew, Stephen was doing in school. He was staying with his dad for the week. Since I was home only for a short time, just for our monster’s third wedding, my sister wanted to make sure she could spend time with me. A fact she punctuated by placing a ring covered hand on my thigh, appreciatively rubbing my leg through my soft dress.

I took her hand and set it back on the shift-stick, giving her what I am sure was an icy smile, even though I wanted it to türkçe bahis be cordial, “I have a boyfriend now, Ash. I’m not into that anymore.”

She took a drag off her smoke and shrugged her shoulders, giving me a sly grin around the edges of her cigarette, “We’ll see, little sis. We’ll see.”

Ashley pulled into our mom’s house a few minutes later. I reached around to grab my things and she shook her head as she threw her butt onto the laneway.

“Leave ’em,” she half-suggested, half-barked. “You can stay with me and May.”

“I’m staying at mom’s,” I insisted. Our mother was a narcissistic, racist alcoholic, but she was also highly religious and oblivious to certain unsavoury truths about our family. Things that she would never stand for or condone if she knew they happened.

As I struggled to open the screen door Ashley came up behind me and smelled my neck. She inhaled my Vera Wang perfume and gave a moment of suggestive hesitation before helping me get inside. It was wholly inappropriate and exactly the sort of thing that my mother’s overbearing presence would shield me from.

I sighed in annoyance at my sister’s inability to respect my boundaries and huffed my way inside.

Our mother, Irene met us at the door, she was wearing a simple dress. Her stringy black hair hung past her shoulders. She was so thin she looked like a bird, all skeletal and hawklike. As soon as I saw her I realized how much I hadn’t missed her.

“You pregnant?” she demanded as soon as her eyes met mine.

“What? No!” I blurted.

“You’re home again,” she curled her upper lip and glared at Ashley. “When one of my girls comes back it generally means they have baby I’ll have to raise for them.”

Ash snorted loudly at the ridiculousness of the statement and mom gave her a the dirtiest frigging look.

“Your mascara is pasted on too thick, it makes you look like a whore,” said our monster to my eldest sibling. “So, I guess it suits you.”

“New record,” said Ash, touching the small of my back and leaning in over my shoulder. “In the door less than ten seconds and both of us already insulted.”

The potential of being pawed at by Ashley was seeming almost reasonable next to what all was entailed of me staying with our mother. Still, I had to think of Alex and I.

“Why are you here?” demanded mom with a tapping foot.

“For your wedding,” I said with annoyance as she scanned me up and down for flaws.

“Oh,” she replied as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her.

“Don’t be stupid,” whispered Ash. “Come home with me, I’ll be good. I promise.”

“That’s like a crocodile promising it won’t bite,” I retorted. She couldn’t behave herself even if she tried.

“Put your things in the spare room,” mom ordered. “I’ll make some tea.”

Ashley helped me drag my luggage in and as I turned around she pushed me onto the bed, back first and climbed atop to straddle me.

“Ash, stop,” I insisted.

She pinned my arms and looked me over, “My God, I’ve missed you.”

She leaned down and kissed my nipples through my bra. I gasped and squirmed, “Stop,” I half-laughed, half-commanded. My treasonous nipples growing hard as the almost forgotten feel and smell of sister’s body came flooding back to me.

She ran her hand under my shirt and felt my breasts above and below my bra, “I’ve missed these boobs too.”

I crossed my legs as I grew more excited and kicked and squirmed to get away, “You will make my shirt wet, what’s mom going to think.”

“Fuck her,” said Ashley kissing my neck.

“Easy for you to say,” I chastised and finally wriggled free. “You won’t have to explain.”

She sat up on her knees, her own larger nipples straining against her bra and shirt. The sight was sexy, she was sexy. In that instance my mind went back to Alex.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have come,” I cursed while sitting up as she relinquished and got off of me. I could feel myself getting more and more upset the longer I thought about it.

The door opened abruptly and Ashley casually closed her open coat over her chest.

Mom stood in the doorway, a disappointed scowl on her face. Her eyes immediately went to my white shirt and she snorted in derision, “Your tits are leaking.”

I covered the wet spots with my coat and glared at my sister.

“You are knocked-up,” said mom angrily. “Goddamn sluts. This is just what I need. Do either of you ever think of anyone beyond yourselves?”

If the insult had come from anyone but my mother I would have been floored by it, but with her it was expected.

Even though I in no way looked pregnant she just wanted to do or say anything to make herself feel superior to me… or me inferior to her.

“Yeah, mom, I’m expecting,” I mockingly confessed. “My boyfriend of many years and I decided to have a baby. But instead of raising it with him at our home I decided to come here and dump my first born into your lap. What an unwise and loose young woman iddaa siteleri you’ve raised.”

“I always told you to keep your legs crossed,” she snapped completely missing the sardonic nature of my words. “Good girls don’t move in with men before they’re married. And they certainly don’t fall for Frenchmen. All they think about is sex, adultery and sodomy.”

Ashley was fighting to keep from laughing and I resisted the urge to punch her in the arm for not helping.

“Sorry, mom,” I said flatly. “It must be such a burden for you, having the two of us as daughters.”

“There are three burdens in my life,” agreed my mother ignoring or missing my continuously facetious tone. “Two of you here and Dallas is off sinning – a filthy dyke of all things. My third child, fallen so far from the lord’s light. Only my baby – Paige, is a good girl. The rest of you are just broken. Lost, despite everything I did for you.”

Dallas was our younger sister. Like me, a middle child of four girls, but unlike me she had never left our home town. Of all us sisters she was the only true lesbian. While Ashley was diligently bisexual and I was straightening, Dallas had no doubts or flexibility with her sexuality. She kept her dark, red hair cropped, wore the most fashionable men’s clothes she could afford and chased women with the zeal of a fraternity bro. In a small city, with a limited gay-scene, Dallas had become far tougher than any of us. She was pretty enough, but the way she flouted social rules and broadcast her sexuality had led to more than her fair share of fights and even a group-beating one time.

I had begged Ashley to watch out for her and even suggested Dallas come stay with me and Alex, but she wouldn’t leave, so she always found trouble. She had limited friends and all of them were scumbags. She’d been forced by her circumstances to the bottom of the barrel. She was a year, maybe two away from a prison record, I could feel it. Yet, Dallas was her own woman and there was only so much family could do.

Paige on the other hand was the youngest of all of us. A happy accident from mom’s second marriage, our twenty-one-year-old sister made even me feel butch by comparison next to her. Paige was sweet and endearing. She dressed super girly, loved heels and small purses, fussed over her hair and make-up. We all loved her and despite the attention she got being mother’s only ‘good daughter’, she was neither spoiled nor bitchy. She was a great person, she was the kind of girl who would give her scarf to a homeless person on a cold day and bring home every stray animal she found so she could look after them. If I had to guess at her sexuality Paige was most likely a pansexual. A person that most certainly didn’t mind going out of her way to make those she loved happy.

Just thinking about my sisters made me miss them even more.

“Where are Paige and Dallas?” I asked having ignored the last few minutes of my mother’s ranting.

Irene stopped talking, amazed anyone would dare interrupt her and Ashley snapped out of whatever distracting daydream she was embracing to answer me.

“Paige is at school and Dallas is likely sleeping it off at grandma’s.”

Grandma May was our paternal grandparent and really the only reason any of us were even halfway sane. She was also the reason my sisters and I had had such an unusual relationship.

May was not the stereotypical grandmother. Having been deep into the hippy and later on the disco movements, she was spritely and sexy. Early photos of her had made her looked like a ginger Tanya Roberts. Free love, human-centric beliefs, combined with a taste for travel and the exotic. She was our role-model growing up; her home walking distant and always open to us girls. She was our calm island oasis that allowed welcome escape from the hurricane Irene and that was exactly how we all, one after another became captivated by her.

“Mom, we’re going to go,” I said picking up my purse. “I have some shopping to do and want to see Dallas.”

Irene was livid, she stammered and demanded that we stay until she let us go, but Ashley and I pretended not to hear anything she yelled.

“See you later tonight,” and finished my good-bye by mumbling an insincere. “Love you.”

Ashley was ecstatic as we got back into her jeep, “May is going to be so happy to see you.”

I gave a small smile and raised my eyebrows, “I’ll say hello, but it’s Dallas I really want to see.”

Ash shrugged and started the engine, “Do you actually have any shopping to do?”

“Not really,” I said. “Just wanted to make it seem like I’d be gone awhile.”

The drive to grandma’s was quick and Ashley pulled into the laneway behind May’s burgundy Corola. She jumped out and I followed her up the small stone walkway.

The house looked the same. A three story, red bricked Victorian, it could have been an intimidating house, but it was surrounded by well-tended gardens, with porch furniture and wind-chimes to make it deneme bonusu veren siteler look as inviting as possible.

The creak of the front steps reminded me of the days I would run over to the house when my own home had become unbearable. The images of cookies and milk, sandwiches and cartoons on the television brought back safe and happy memories. But with time the sensation of soft hands on my adult skin, the smell of my Grandmother’s perfume washing over me replaced childhood things.

I looked at Ashley and my eyes strayed to her butt as she walked ahead of me. The roundness of her ass inside of her denim pants. I recalled her behind me, kneading my breasts, pinching my nipples expertly. Her own breasts, warm and soft pressed to my back. The pleasure building within my body as between my legs beautiful, vivacious May worked her magic tongue.

I snapped out of it and felt ashamed. Alex once more on my mind I stopped and shook my head, “I can’t go in.”

“What?” asked my sister in annoyance.

“Too much happened here,” I said nodding toward the house. “The smells, the lighting, the memories. I can’t.”

“For fuck sake’s, Emily,” growled Ash. “You’re not even going to stop in and say, hi?”

“You never left here,” I accused as I pointed a finger. “You’re still doing all that stuff, it’s all normal to you. But I left to get away from it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” demanded my older sister angrily.

I glanced around the street to see it anyone was outside, it was a cold, wet day so it seemed safe enough for me to whisper, “I’m not gay.”

“Okay,” replied Ashley as if my proclamation had no importance whatsoever.

“Don’t do that,” I chided. “That – ‘you’re not making any sense, Emily,’ thing. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Ashley rolled her eyes as if I was being dramatic.

“And it’s not just the gay part,” I whispered harshly looking around again for eavesdroppers. “It’s not natural.”

“It’s the most natural thing in the world,” my sibling replied with all seriousness.

“No,” I stopped her. “I’ve been out in the world. Nobody accepts this sort of thing. Especially when it’s a Grandmother and her impressionable granddaughters. It’s not right.”

“It’s is for us,” said Ash, walking back down to place a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I shivered mostly from the cold and shook my head, “I felt very bad about what all happened here, for a long time. I thought I was insane, that I really was broken, just like mom always said.”

“May just wanted us to have a place where we could be safe and accepted,” Ash tried to rationalize.

“Up to a point sure, when we were kids,” I argued back discreetly. “But when we were eighteen? Nineteen? Grandma’s love took on a whole new meaning!”

I scanned once more to make sure we weren’t causing a scene and Ashley looked to the door to make sure no one inside might have overheard what was being discussed.

“Do I have to remind you that you asked for it?”

“Fuck you,” I retorted before I could internally edit my response.

“No,” she protested softly yet fiercely. “Let’s look back on this again. Little Emily, who always wanted to be like her big sister. You idolized me, everything I did you wanted to do. I got a tongue piercing, you wanted one. I dyed my hair purple, you wanted to dye yours. I came out as bisexual and lo and behold who else said she was, right afterwards?”

“I looked up to you,” I said evenly.

“Bullshit,” Ash said. “You didn’t just want to be like me, you were in love with me.”

Her words stung and I immediately thought back on how miserable I was at home. How Ash seemed to let all mom’s shit roll off her back like it was nothing while it hurt me so deeply. Of course I wanted to be like her. By imitating her I hoped to gain her strength, her awesomeness. After I learned what being bisexual was I had touched myself to thoughts of my sister. I imagined us running away together to live as husband and wife. It was a screwed up fantasy, but it had made me happy when I needed it to.

“I was nineteen years-old plus before I tried anything with anyone, let alone May,” she reminded me. “But you knew what was going on, you caught us in her bedroom and then what did you bug us for over and over again until we finally caved?”

The sensation and memory of Ashley behind me, this time gently guiding her strapon into me as I lay atop May’s naked body suddenly came back to me. Taking my virginity as both of them held my shaking form between them.

The details flooded my mind, making me feel an awkward mixture of shame and arousal all in one fell swoop.

I aggressively shook the thoughts away and looked my sister square in the eye, “That’s not who I am anymore, Ashley; I found my own strength.”

“Fine!” she yelled angrily and I cringed instinctively. “Then you have nothing to worry about. Come inside, see some of your family and then go back to mom’s. You’ll be safe enough there from everything but Irene.”

I felt a flush of regret as Ash spoke. She was right, I was just being paranoid. Wasn’t I? I was an adult coming back to a place I linked to my past, obviously nothing I didn’t want was going to happen and everyone would respect my wishes.

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