“Sure. Thanks, Mom.”
Holly patted his leg as he drank. “You ok?”
“Yeah, just tired, and my head hurts. Mind if I go to bed earlier?”
“Of course not,” Holly watched Sam stand and rummage through his new clothes looking for pajamas Holly bought.
He began changing into them in front of her; Holly looked away once more out of respect. She started for the door, “I’m going to make a phone call.”
“Mom,” Sam said, grabbing her hand, stopping her from leaving. He hadn’t yet put on a t-shirt, but had his pajama pants on.
“Yes?”
Sam smiled, ran his fingers through Holly’s hair, his other hand on the small of her back, pulling her against him. He kissed her. Their lips touching, his pressing gently against hers.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. This headache is killing me.”
Holly’s mouth hung open. “Um, sure.”
“Please pick up, please pick up,” Holly paced back and forth in the kitchen, calling her sister, Julie. There was no answer.
She thought about calling one of her own kids, but chickened out. The kiss Sam gave her wasn’t a quick little peck, but something more. “Were they? No, it can’t be. It’s just in my head. Sharon and Sam weren’t – ”
“Mom!” Sam called out to Holly in distress.
“Sam! I’m here!” Holly ran to the bedroom, seeing Sam on the floor, clutching his head. She called 9-1-1.
A few hours later, the doctor was talking to Holly outside Sam’s room. They were keeping him over night.
“He seems fine. The MRI revealed no new damage or lesions. I think it was a severe migraine. But you did the right thing by bringing him here.”
Holly took a deep breath, seeing the doctor off. She entered Sam’s room.
“Hey,” she whispered, holding his hand; he held hers back, his face solemn.
Holly watched Sam drift off to sleep, sitting by his bed once again.
Chapter 7
The next morning Sam was released from the hospital. He was different, quiet, never smiling.
“Are you sure you’re ok, sweetie?” Holly said, pulling into the driveway.
“I’m fine,” Sam replied, grabbing his bag, making his way to the front door of Holly’s home.
Holly spotted an unfamiliar car in the driveway next to Jon’s. She rolled her eyes – another lady friend.
She kicked off her sandals and turned to talk with Sam. He was already in his room, the door was slowly closing.
She cleaned the kitchen, hoping her nephew was ok. Holly spoke with Julie, advising her of the situation. She was planning on flying down to Miami the following weekend. The sisters ended their call, agreeing that Sam was tired. Holly let him rest.
Near dinner time, Holly warmed up some leftovers, glancing toward the hallway, hoping Sam would join her. He never did.
Sitting on the couch alone, flipping through stations, Holly grabbed the pillow, thinking about Sam. She hadn’t seen Jon all day, and didn’t care; Sam was all she cared about now.
“Holly,” a voice called from behind her. Her heart raced, she turned around and saw the source of the voice.
“I’m leaving. I’m going home, to Charleston,” Sam said.
Holly stood, “You, you know that I’m – ”
“You’re my aunt.”
“What about, I mean, what else do you remember?”
“My mom is gone. It’s time for me to go home, get things in order, get my life in order,” Sam said.
“How will you go?”
“Bus, I guess,” Sam shrugged, turned around and went back to his room to pack.
Holly didn’t know what to say, she paced back and forth, she thought about calling Julie. She didn’t want him to leave, but she couldn’t stop him.
She rubbed her temples and walked toward her bedroom. Opening the door, she saw Jon pinning a woman against the opposite wall, fucking her. Holly slowly closed the door and walked back to Sam’s room.
“I’m going with you. I’ll drive,” Holly said.
“You don’t have to; it’s fine.”
“There’s nothing here for me. I’m coming with you. We can leave tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’ll pack a few things and call your Aunt Julie. We can stay with her.”
**
Sam looked to the street lights as they approached the interstate for their several hour drive north. His mind was rebuilding, reconnecting, but not yet there.
“What else do you remember, Sam?” Holly asked, looking over to him.
“Not much. I know she’s gone. I remember the funeral, I remember driving down here and getting into a wreck. But the events leading up to that are fuzzy.”
“Do you know why you drove down here?”
Sam shook his head, “No idea. I think I just wanted to run away.”
Holly thought about holding his hand as she drove, but things were different now. He knew she was his aunt, not his mother. She wanted to ask about their relationship, but kept quiet and drove, leaving Jon and Miami behind.
Chapter 8
They arrived at Julie’s new Charleston home just before dawn. Julie had gathered a few things at Sharon’s house, mainly clothes for the colder weather for Sam.
Holly marveled at the huge home Julie and her son lived in. Sam was already asleep in his guest room; Holly was asleep in hers not long after.
Julie fixed breakfast a couple hours later. Afterward, Sam kept mostly to himself. Holly and Julie chatted about what to do with Sharon’s house, various finances, divorcing Jon, and Sam’s health. Holly went on to describe how Sharon’s death changed her for the better. Julie encouraged her to contact her children, something she still hadn’t gotten the courage to do.
After dinner, Sam eating alone in his room, Holly hugged Julie goodnight. She noticed Julie’s son quickly darting into his mother’s room. Holly thought nothing of it and headed to the shower.
A couple hours later, lying wide awake in bed, thinking about Sam, her future without Jon, and hopefully with her kids, she heard a moan.
She heard another one a few minutes later. “Is that Julie?” Holly thought. She got out of the bed, cracked her door and listened. She heard another woman moaning a couple seconds later.
Holly wondered if Julie was dreaming, or masturbating. She shrugged and closed her door. Before it shut completely, she heard another moan followed by a “shhh.” Julie wasn’t alone.
Stifling a giggle, Holly’s curiosity got the best of her. She tip-toed down the hall wondering what guy her sister had snuck in.
She heard softer moans as she got closer to Julie’s bedroom. The door was cracked slightly for some reason.
“Yess,” Julie hissed, another “shhh” followed.
Holly carefully, sneakily, pushed the door. The house was brand new, no creaking or cracking, no need for WD-40 on the door hinges; her act was silent.
Holly saw Julie straddling someone, a man’s hands sliding up and down her bare back. “Who is this guy? Holly thought. “Ugh, this is wrong. I better go.”
Something caught Holly’s peripheral vision as she turned to leave. Glancing back once more, she did a double take, and then covered her open mouth.
Holly saw Julie, now lying on her back, running her hands up and down Julie’s son’s torso and chest. Her legs were locked around his waist. Julie’s son leaned down, kissing his mother passionately. Holly saw his hips thrusting slowly.
She hurried back to her room and closed the door. The incestuous act she’d witnessed sinking in. She couldn’t believe what she saw; anger, confusion, setting in. She thought of her own son, imaged making sweet, tender love to him. “No,” she shook her head in disgust. They weren’t close.