Ann LeBere - Stepmother's bed

Denny decided to lie right back. "O.K. then." he said. "Dad told me, too-one afternoon when you were outside." For some reason, Denny felt a great surge of relief. If Joyce had told him about fucking their father, then he would have felt compelled to tell her about fucking Norma. And he had promised Norma he wouldn't tell. Indeed, they had both grown up… the childish and impossible promise-the agreement-had at last been broken.

Joyce seemed to understand the significance of the moment, too. "Yes," she uttered softly, "I guess father would not tell one without telling the other, would he?"

"True," Denny replied, but he understood that both of them were remembering that night when their father had fucked Joyce there on the living room couch while, heartbroken, he had watched from outside. "Yes, that's true."

"So I thought it was time to tell you of my decision, Denny. Naturally, I didn't want to tell you in Walden Flats. I–I thought it might ruin the vacation for you-which is why I waited till we were on the plane."

And then she hurled herself in his arms, sobbing. "We'll be in our own rooms again in San Francisco… and we'll be normal, just like other kids, and you'll have your own girlfriends and I'll have my own boyfriends. Oh, Denny!" She couldn't restrain the deep sobs that wracked her body. "I–I nearly died when I heard you with that pig, Denise, last night. I wanted you so much, and I–I was insane with jealousy. Doesn't that tell you why we have to put an end to behaving like a-a man and wife?"

Her head lay against his shoulder as she cried. It seemed a long time before she lifted her head and spoke in a normal voice again. "In San Francisco it's going to be entirely different. You do understand that, don't you? I–I just want to make that point emphatically again." She sniffed. "You do understand?"

"O.K.," Denny said. "Let's say I understand."

His sister was still staring at him, as if she might burst into tears. "Denny, I'm going back to the bathroom now to wash my face, and when I come back I don't want to talk about this anymore. Is that clear?"

She stood hurriedly, then side-stepped by him from her window seat. Her hand was at her face and her chest heaved.

Denny watched men's heads turn to admire his sister as she made her way down the aisle toward the ladies' room. He admired the swing of her hips, her beautiful body, and he thought: She's going to make someone a beautiful wife someday. But he was not sure that being back in San Francisco would change the direction their lives had taken. Not at all sure. They would just have to wait and see. And for just a moment, he thought he might burst into tears, too.