The accusation hit a lot closer to home than I was ready to admit, so I tried to play it off. “So? What about it? It’s just a coincidence.”
“You think it’s a coincidence that Harry and James married women who look like our mom?”
“Danny didn’t.”
“No, but he’s always been contrary, just to mess with us. Besides, Sabrina is perfect for him in other ways. Danny wants to go into politics someday, and he’s going to need someone like her. She and I’ve talked about it, and she knows she’s going to be Jackie to his Jack.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You mean, like, Kennedy?”
“Mmm hmm. You forget— No, I probably never told you. Sorry. Our dad’s a staunch Republican, but our mom’s always been a Democrat. And her mother, our nana, is Back Bay, Boston. Old money. She has pictures and stories from when the Kennedys were still in the State House. So that’s what Danny grew up hearing about.”
“Ah. I didn’t realize. I think he’d be a good politician. I’d certainly vote for him.”
“It won’t happen for a while. He wants a career in the military first. But he’s already thinking about the future, ten or fifteen years from now when he’s ready to run for office. Sabrina is part of that.” Christy nodded into the silence. “Exactly. So he’s sort of the exception to the rule that men marry their mothers. Harry and James both did.” She gave me a sharp look. “And you show every sign of doing the same.”
I felt a surge of adrenaline that had nothing to do with arousal. “We aren’t married yet.”
“But we’re talking about it. And you probably think we’re rushing—that I’ve done this before, like Danny said—but it’s different this time.” She gathered herself for an admission. “Simon was an excuse to hide from my family. That isn’t what I’m doing with you.”
“Oh? What are you doing with me?”
“The same thing Sabrina and Danny are doing. Marianne and Harry, too.
Lynne and James, although they don’t make a big deal about it.”
“Wh—?” I had to clear my throat before my voice came out as more than a croak. “And what’s that?”
“Planning our future together.” She broke the tension with a laugh as bright as a spring day. “Oh my gosh! Your penis just about fainted.” She licked pre-come and then kept sucking till my erection returned. “There, that’s better. He just needed a little attention.”
“He’s simple like that.”
“No, he’s really very complex. But he isn’t good at hiding his emotions.
He can’t lie to me like you can. Wait, I take that back. You don’t lie to me,
but you hide things all the time.”
“For your own protection.”
“I know. And you’ll tell me everything eventually. But your penis can’t hide anything.”
“Evidently not,” I grumbled.
“Oh, relax,” she said softly. Then she kissed the penis in question. “I kind of like when he tells me things. And you have to admit, I make both of you happy.”
“Mmm, you do.”
“And I’m not your sister, even though I sort of look like her. A smaller version, at least.” She laughed, softer and more affectionate. “I’ve always been annoyed that I’m so small. I mean, my brothers are all normal-sized.
How come I got the shrimp genes in the family? But now I kinda like it. I mean, it’d be weird if I was more like Erin or your mom.”
“Totally,” I lied.
She paused and cocked her head to look at me. Her brow furrowed. “You know, for a moment…”
I raised an eyebrow as innocently as I could.
“Sorry. Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
A reckless part of me wasn’t ready to let it go. “What do you mean? You don’t think Erin and I—”
“No! Of course not! Never in a million years. Only, for a moment… No, forget I said anything.”
Discretion finally kicked in, but a small part of me realized that she hadn’t been disgusted. More like embarrassed and even a bit curious. Note to self…, I thought.
“Anyway, where was I?” Christy said. “Oh, yes… talking about Wren and love and sex and all.”
“Right.”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “Sorry.” She glanced at my dick and noticed that it was still hard. Then she narrowed her eyes with the same look of calculation I’d seen on her father. “Sorry,” she said again. “What were we talking about?”
“Wren,” I said blandly, although I was grinning on the inside. “And love and sex and all.”
“Oh, yeah! Right.” She made an effort to focus. “So, you remember she thought I was being silly because I wouldn’t go all the way, and I sort of
agreed with her?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Well, I figured out why I’m not being silly.”
“Oh? Why?”
“The physical part still scares me a little, the size difference especially, but I know we’ll make it work. I guess what really scares me is the emotional part. And…” She glanced up to judge how I reacted to her next words. “The spiritual part.”
I clamped down on my immediate disapproval and looked at her with mild interest instead. It was the right decision, because she immediately relaxed.
“I know you gave me the cross,” she said as she fingered the necklace,
“and you let me go to Mass on Sunday, but… you still get this look of disapproval about anything religious.”
I almost admitted that I’d used the same word to myself. Almost.
“But I guess it’s like me and anything to do with sex. My first reaction is to think it’s dirty, but that isn’t how you think about it.”
“No.”
“So I’ve been trying to change, to think of sex like you do. And I know you’ve been trying to do the same with me, to understand how God is just part of my everyday life.”
I nodded slowly, unsure where she was going.
“So I guess what I’m trying to say is that for me, sex is spiritual too. It’s a bond between a man and a woman. No, I take that back. Love is spiritual. I think you’re probably right, sex is just something physical. But it’s different with me and you. I finally understood that, when Wren was talking about you.”
“How do you mean?”
“I guess the best way to explain it is to talk about her and Trip. I know you want me to have sex with him, and I’ll be honest, that really scares me.
But it isn’t about love. It’s ‘just sex.’ It feels weird to say that, but I think I understand now. And most of the time it’s ‘just sex’ with Wren and me.
She… doesn’t get attached like I do. I’m not saying that’s wrong,” she added quickly, “just that it’s different.”
I nodded.
“But I’m not like that. I’ve totally fallen for you. And I’m in real danger, like you said. The till-death-do-us-part kind. So sex with you will never be
‘just sex.’ It’ll always be more. And that’s why I’m not ready. I’m scared.
What if I’m wrong? What if you aren’t The One? What if we don’t connect on a spiritual level? What if, what if, what if?”
She drew a deep, unsteady breath and continued, “I know that’s a lot to deal with at once, but I had to tell you. I’ve had it bottled up for two days, thinking about it and trying to decide if I should say anything or not. I mean, it’d be easy to simply spread my legs and let you do what we both want.
But… I’m not that kind of girl. I know you hate it when I say that, but—”
“I don’t hate it,” I said quickly. “I just…” I thought about it for a long moment. “I guess I don’t like the idea of ‘that kind of girl’ being a bad thing.
Sex is natural. It’s part of life. And girls like it as much as guys do.”