This is a new story called “The companion act” let’s begin…..Henry looked nothing like her sister Tom, about as opposite in many ways as they could possibly be. I’d been married to Henry for twenty years, though I’d hardly seen or even gotten to know Henry’s younger sister very well during all that time. We were almost more strangers than family, which is also the way it was between the two of them. Henry was ten years senior to her sister, and as such, the two of them had never really been very close, even growing up together. When Henry and I got married,
Tom was still a ten year old kid. Cute, but even then a bit of an obnoxious brat, and very obviously jealous of her older sister. One would have thought that with her older sister out of the house and moving away, she’d be delighted to be the spoiled only child. She wasn’t. She only seemed to enjoy that when she had it to lord over her older sister in the way their parents spoiled her. Without having Henry around, she lost all the joy out of being able to do that.
The last time I had in fact seen my wife’s sister was two years ago now, at her wedding and just a few weeks after her birthday when she’d turned twenty-five, though even then only briefly. I wasn’t at all surprised to hear the hushed whispers and talks about how this marriage wouldn’t last. Good thing I didn’t bet, because it hadn’t. Two years later Tom was getting a divorce. And worse, she was coming here to stay with us for two weeks,
“To get away for a while,” as Henry had put it. Trying to put the best face on it that she could, though neither one of us were looking forward to her visit. As we both thought and discussed it, it would no doubt be two weeks of crying, bitching, moaning…more crying, complaining how life was so unfair to her, etc…etc…etc.
I planned on spending a lot of time out in the garage doing god knows what just to stay out of the house while she was here.
Admittedly, Tom was an attractive looking woman, at least she had seemed to be the last time I had seen her, but then again…that was her wedding day after all. Unlike her sister, Tom was no more than an inch or two over five feet. And though not exactly petite, she had slightly larger breasts and wider hips than my own wife did. But her height gave her the appearance of being almost “top-heavy” as they called it in the boob department.
The last time I had seen her she had been wearing her light brown hair short, with blonde streaks running through it. Once again, an exact opposite of my wife. Henry was nearly as tall as I was at just under six feet. She wore her dark brown hair long, usually in a ponytail. And though her breasts weren’t quite as big as her sister’s were, they were a nice-sized hand or mouth full, no complaints here that’s for sure.
And not that Henry wasn’t vivacious and outgoing, she was…and she had a bit of a wild-side in her too, though she usually reserved that for the bedroom. Tom on the other hand always seemed to run around with a chip on her shoulder…or rather her breast perhaps. One of the reasons she’d been given that particular name. She’d been born with a small little strawberry discolored patch of skin on her chest. As a kid, mom and dad had affectionately called her “Their little Robin red-breast.” As a kid, she warmed affectionately to the nick-name.
As a teenager on hormones, she resented it, especially whenever she wore something just skimpy enough to hint at her cleavage. It was hard not to be drawn to that small patch of strawberry colored skin peeking out from inside her bra, or bathing suit cups. Though even as an older teen, she learned how to use that to her best advantage whenever she wanted the attention. Which was often.
“Just try and be civil while she’s here Samuel,” Henry had urged me. “She’s going through a really rough period of time.”
So would we be, but I gave Henry every assurance I’d be on my very best behavior as we cleaned and straightened up the guest room across the hall from our own. At one time, we’d planned on making that into a nursery, but then came the word that because of getting the mumps at the age that I had, I’d become sterile, unable to have children of my own. Henry and I had discussed adoption, but for some reason, never got around to seriously looking into it. Now…even at just forty,
we both had great careers and felt it was a little too late for us to be thinking about starting a family of our own. Mom and dad had once again depended on Tom to do that for them, now…they were disappointed once again too. Another reason why Robin had felt it necessary to get away for a while, away from mom and dad. Neither one of them were too happy with the way things had turned out, trying to convince Tom to give Mat another chance.
Fat chance that was…she’d already given him another chance, two of them in fact. Finding him cheating on her three times before now. Frankly, I wasn’t surprised. Though I’d never found Mat to my liking to begin with, I couldn’t imagine being married to her myself. Not with her attitude anyway, and from hearing snippets of conversation between Henry and her mom, Tom had a nasty way of flirting with everyone.
Maybe Mat had found that disarming about her, but once again had it been me, it would have driven me nuts. And to this very day, I still swear she had flirted with me at her own wedding, somewhat drunkenly suggesting that I should have arrived a few days earlier before that, giving her a chance for one last fling herself.
Thank God Henry hadn’t overheard her say that, or she’d have been looking for another maid of honor on top of tending to a black eye knowing my wife.
No…it wasn’t going to be a happy or welcome visit. One in which I certainly wasn’t looking forward to at all.
**
I was sitting in the den watching the game on TV when I heard my wife’s car pulling up into the driveway. She’d gone to pick up her sister from the airport alone, figuring that would at least give them some time to discuss things on the way back without my being there. Steeling my resolve, I quickly entered the kitchen area knowing they’d soon come in from the backdoor connecting the garage. I pasted a friendly, welcoming smile on my face and stood there waiting for the door to open, which it soon did moments later.
“H Samuel,” Tom said demurely as she stepped in. It was evident by her swollen eyes, along with my wife’s, the two of them had been sharing a cry with one another on the way home. I allowed myself to genuinely smile back at her, welcoming her here as she suddenly took three quick steps and gathered me up into her arms. “Thank you samuel…thank you for letting me…for allowing me to stay here with you for a while.”
That was totally unexpected, her attitude, at least for the moment anyway, was pleasant, and I found myself almost immediately warming and surrendering to it. “You’re welcome…anytime,” I then added, seeing my wife’s eyebrows raise in surprise at the admission, though she smiled at me a second later, giving me her own personal private little “thank you”, upon hearing me say that.