A BROTHER’S LOVE

“Jamie, come on, wake up!” David’s voice was soft and warm in her ear. “Mmmmmm…” Slowly Jamie drifted into awareness; her brother’s strong arm around her waist as he gently nuzzled the back of her neck. “Wanna do it?” he asked. “I mean, you been runnin’ around all evening in nothing but those stupid leotards and I’m….kinda all worked up, ya know?” “Tough shit” Jamie mumbled, pulling the stiff hotel sheets back over her shoulder “use your hand.” Silence — for the moment. “Bet you want it just as bad as I do” David whispered again, voice soft and persistent. “Yea, and how do you know?” Jamie asked. The question conveyed both irritation and curiosity. “‘Cause” David replied, utterly sure of himself. Jamie sighed. Sometimes her brother acted as if he could read her mind, as if he possessed some magic that allowed him to look right through whatever she said or did into her deep, personal core. It could be kind of scary sometime, other times (like right at that moment) it was almost….comforting. And the fact was, now that David had her awake — and especially after the shit they had both gone through that day — Jamie wanted some lovin’. Yes, she mused, one of her brother’s long, gentle fuckings was just the way to put things right again. Still, she didn’t want to appear *too* eager. “Well….maybe” Jamie said. “What about you-know-who?” She nodded her head in the direction of the folding bed in the corner. A young girl, the daughter of their father’s latest girlfriend, lay curled up in it, sleeping soundly. “I’ll be really quiet.” David whispered. Almost immediately his hand began to trail down her stomach. “Uh-uh.” Jamie rolled over onto her back. Taking her brother’s hand in hers she carefully placed it over the firm mound of her developing breast. “Start here…” she sighed. ————– Comfort is where one finds it and the fact that Jamie found her’s in the arms of her brother didn’t bother her very much anymore. After all, in the three long years since their dad had been laid off and mom had left there had been precious little in the way of comfort (or stability) and Jamie was not about to deny herself what little she did have. David was the one constant in her young life and, while she did sometimes wonder what forces had turned her brother into her lover, she didn’t question them. If pushed, she would have guessed it was simply blind luck, or perhaps fate. Fate — and the deeply troubled man who was her father….. Jamie had just turned sixteen when her Dad lost his job. All through the halcyon days of the space program he had been a successful engineer at a large aerospace company, but with the downsizing of NASA (and all its supplier companies) he had became expendable. He took it well at first, remaining his old self as he looked for a new job that paid as well as his old one, but his search was fruitless. One month went by, then two, then six. As the money ran out and his hope turned to desperation Jamie’s father changed. He became surly, angry, and his occasional one-to-many beers after dinner became not so occasional. He was no longer a happy, comforting man and (as both David and Jamie were slowly beginning to realize) what little remained of his marriage was becoming unglued — the solvent being booze and self-pity. His world fell down around him and, the day his wife left, he came to Jamie’s room and woke her up. Jamie never lost the memory of that night: how she came awake as he sat on the edge of her bed next to her, his hands on his lap, an odd expression of grief on his face. “What’s the matter, Daddy?” she whispered in a voice of sleepy confusion. Her father didn’t say anything but Jamie could see his large frame quaking and feel the vibrations on the bed beneath her as he began to silently cry. What was a little girl to do or say when the man who’s presence anchored her world and was the source of her stability was crying and helpless? Jamie sat up and put her small arm around his large shoulders, her baby-doll nightie (the one he had bought her with the last of his unemployment money) riding up her stomach as she reached to him. “Don’t cry, Daddy,” she said, hugging him as he wrapped a large arm around her small, girlish frame and hugged back. “I’m sorry, honey,” she heard his voice croak wetly in the semi-darkness. “It’s just that…” “What?” “Your mother has gone, Jamie,” he sniffed. “She didn’t leave a note or anything but she’s gone and I know we’ll never see her again.” “Gone?” Jamie was becoming fully awake now as she tried to think and hold her father in her bed. “You’re the woman of the house now,” he told her. “You have to take care of me and your brother.” “Oh daddy, I….I….” she stammered as her father turned towards her. Draping his other arm across her back he pulled Jamie’s face tight against the hardness of his chest. Any lingering sleepiness was driven away; both by the news her father had brought as well as the strong, sweet/sour, yeasty odor of stale beer and sweat. “Oh God,” Jamie thought “he’s drunk again.” “It’ll be okay sweetie….daddy ‘ll make it right.” Her father cooed into her ear, rocking her back and forth, and with sudden, complete, shock Jamie realized he was rubbing her nipples back and forth against his chest. “Please…” she whispered, pushing her hands against his arms as she tried to escape his smothering embrace. Large hands roamed up and down her back, open palms smearing the cool smooth material of her nightie over her warm skin, and as she raised her face to protest he leaned forward and planted a sloppy, wet kiss straight on her mouth. “DAD!” she tried to yell, but it was muffled by her fathers lips pressing tightly against hers. She jerked her head sideways, leaving a trail of her fathers liquor laden spit across her cheek, then pushed as hard as she could against his chest. “Oh baby…my baby” he mumbled, totally unaffected by Jamie’s struggles. Jamie realized in horror that her father was leaning forward again, using his body to press her hard into the mattress. “No…” she pleaded, on the edge of panic. “Dad?” came the voice from the doorway. David stood perfectly still, his small frame a shadow outlined by the hall light. Jamie’s dad immediately froze, his breathing hard and heavy then, almost imperceptibly, he loosened his tight grip on her young body. “Is everything OK with Jamie?” David asked. Slowly, supporting her head and back with his big arms, Jamie’s father lay her down on the bed, as if he was putting a sleeping baby into a crib. “She’s OK, just took it a bit hard,” he said, calmly, then scooting his arms out from under his daughter’s back slowly straightened his body and stood. “It’ll be hard for all of us,” he mumbled, seemingly to himself, then turned and without another word walked out of her bedroom. “Oh Jamie, what are we gonna do?” David asked, totally unaware of what had been going on. Jamie burst into tears. ——————- That night David — at Jamie’s tearful, pleading insistence– dragged the pillow from his own bed, plopped it beside his sister’s, and in his clumsy, big brother way, held her as she cried herself to sleep. The next night as well, and by the end of the week (although Jamie had stopped crying herself to sleep) he did it without even being asked. With their mother’s leaving their dad had fallen completely apart, spending his evenings in a drunken sprawl on the couch, and as their once secure family disintegrated Jamie and David did what they could to cope. Laying in the darkness of her bedroom, holding one another, they talked and whispered; about their father mostly, but also about themselves and how they could keep the family going. It was purely asexual, and it might have remained as such — except for the simple, biological fact that teenage boys wake in the morning with hard-ons. Something nudged Jamie from her sleep the morning it happened. She didn’t know what it was so she just lay there, in her bed, and took stock of what had disturbed her. She was laying on her back uncovered, the blanket having fallen to the floor during the hot evening, wearing just a pair of baggy, white shorts and an old, torn t-shirt. It was quiet and still, in the bed for a time, and Jamie was just about to fall back asleep when she felt it again. A steady jiggling in the bed. It wasn’t a lot of movement, just a slight perception of the bed undulating. She had no idea what it was, but it was becoming clear to her that the jiggling movements were coming from her brother’s body as he lay next to her, with his side and hip just barely touching hers. Curiosity finally got the best of Jamie and she opened her eyes, just a slit, then tilted her head so slightly and so slowly that David would not detect that she was awake. She could see down the length of his body as he lay next to her. Jamie almost gasped at the sight but checked herself. Her brother lay on his back, wearing a white t-shirt and nothing else. His underpants were down at his ankles and David was doing the oddest thing Jamie had ever seen anyone do in her life.