“Hey, sis,” I said, leaning on the entryway.
“Hey,” she smiled at me. “Wow, don’t you make a picture?”
“What do you mean?”
“You,” she gestured with her hand. “All of this. Your sexy little running outfit, your casual, yet confident stance there. Pretty hot, bro.”
“Thank you. You’re looking pretty amazing yourself, college girl.”
“Thank you, kind sir. Did you have any fun today?”
“It was a good day, yeah. I got my head cleared out pretty well. How about you?”
“Same.”
“Want to do anything special tonight?” I asked.
“I kinda want to keep it simple,” she said, “but I’ll tell you one thing. No drinking tonight for me!”
“Cool with me. It took a few miles to get the booze sweated out of my system. I’m not looking to feel like that again anytime soon.”
“Dinner out, or at home?” I noticed Tory called my place home. It sat well with me.
“What would you like to do, T?”
She smiled. “I want us to cook a meal together.”
“Yeah? Well, whatever suits you just tickles me plum to death.”
Tory rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. Is that a line from some really old movie?”
“What can I say? I like my movies like I like my music.”
“Lovable dork.” Tory pressed against me briefly, then went back to her phone.
Under Tory’s patient tutelage, we managed a rather tasty meal of roast chicken with an amazing assortment of spices, which I mixed as my sister supervised. After putting the bird in the oven, she had me prepare lemon rice and a vegetable salad. She then made a lemon vinaigrette dressing from scratch! Who does that? She told me the dressing’s flavor would complement the rice. “See? It’s not so hard to make a good meal, is it?” she asked.
“I guess not, but I wouldn’t know how much of anything to put on the bird to season it.”
“That just takes practice, Johnny. Cooking is a good skill for a guy to have. It makes the girls go all weak in the knees,” she winked.
“Huh. Maybe I should look into some adult ed classes. Pick up some skills.”
Tory smiled. “It might be good for you.”
“Thanks, T-bird.”
“No worries, Johnny.”
Over dinner, we chatted about this and that, but I wanted Tory to know about my experiences earlier.
“So, I got outside to run today,” I started, “and it gave me time to get out of my head. I mean, to really get out of it. For a while, it felt like I was outside of myself, watching me run. I was able to let my mind go, open myself up, and really experience the outside world. I wish I could explain it better, but I felt really… I don’t know, maybe I’d say connected, to everything around me. It opened my eyes to a bigger picture, or something. But I realized that I haven’t been appreciating life, and I think I’m ready to learn how to do that again.”
“Wow, Johnny, that sounds amazing! That must’ve been some run.”
“No, that’s not it. The run was the distraction that allowed me to get there, but it’s you who gave me the push to open myself up. I loved this afternoon, and I want to thank you for making that possible, Tory.”
She smiled at me with such affection. “Look at you, dipping your toes into the pool of healthy emotionality. So cute!”
I smiled at her good-natured teasing. “Seriously, though, I wish I was more like you in that respect.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “My emotions control me too often. I don’t think that’s any healthier than your reluctance to feel yours.”
I laughed. “I told mom yesterday that you and I combined made for one amazing, well-adjusted person.”
“You’re not wrong, big brother.”
After dinner, Tory said she wanted to watch something to make her laugh. We binged one of her favorite sitcoms for a few hours, both of us on my couch, but sitting at opposite ends. I worried there was now a gulf between us, felt but unacknowledged. I think we were still both preoccupied with feeling the pain of our recent losses.
I started to doze on the couch, my head falling forward before I’d catch myself and snap up, trying to stay awake.
Tory slid over next to me and shook my shoulder. “Hey, Johnny. It seems like maybe you’re emotionally exhausted. Why don’t you call it a night?”
“Yeah,” I replied, “I think I should. Is there anything I can do for you first?”
My sister smiled at me so sweetly. “Just keep being you.” She leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, softly, her lips lingering, but without the passion and need of our kiss the night before. “You’re my brother, and I love you.”
“I love you, too, Tory. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Johnny.”
I fell into bed, exhausted.
I woke to the sound of my whispered name. “Johnny, are you awake? Johnny?”
I blinked and looked at the clock on my bedside table. It was just before midnight.
“Tory? Is everything ok?”
I felt her climb onto the unused side of my bed. “I’m gonna sleep in here tonight, ok? I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“You alright, T?”
“Yeah, mostly. Is it ok?”
I wasn’t going to disturb the still-fragile peace we seemed to have made. “Yeah, sure. Got enough blanket?”
Tory slipped between the sheets. “Yeah, Johnny. I’m fine, thank you.”
I felt her hand on my shoulder. It seemed as though she were making sure I was real, or maybe she needed a point on which to anchor. I could be that for her.
February 13
I woke once, just before dawn. I felt Tory snuggled against my back, and heard her snoring lightly. Her arm was draped over me, her hand just below my chest. I took her hand in mine and closed my eyes.
The next time I opened my eyes, morning light was flooding the room. During the night, Tory and I had rolled over, and now I was pressed against her, the big spoon to her little. I lay quietly, not wanting to disturb her.
“You awake?” Tory whispered.
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“I’ve been awake for a while. Your breathing changed.” I felt Tory take my hand and pull my arm further over her, over her stomach.
“How’d you sleep, T?”
“Great. Really great. I don’t want to get up yet, though. Your bed feels too nice.”
“I’m good with that. This does feel really nice.”
“Mmm. Plus, it was an educational night for me, Johnny.”
“Meaning?”
“I no longer think you’re an ass man.” I could hear an unexpressed laugh in Tory’s voice.
“What do you mean?”
“I woke up earlier with you spooned up against me. Your hand was right on my boob.” Tory chuckled.
“Oh, fuck. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You were asleep. Besides, it was sweet. I really didn’t mind.”
“Sweet? How many sisters would say that after their brother groped their boob, asleep or not?”
I felt Tory shrug. “How many sisters have a brother like you?”
We lay in bed another hour, talking. For most of the time, we held hands. The contact was soothing, the company pleasant. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in such a good mood before my feet hit the floor. Eventually, we both had to heed nature’s call. Tory went in first, while I started our morning coffee and tea.
”What would you like for breakfast?” Tory asked as she came into the kitchen. How she could look so good first thing in the morning was a mystery. Her hair was pulled back, her face freshly scrubbed. She had on a pair of bun-huggers and a tank top, and moved easily, walking as though she didn’t have a care in the world.