Thanksgivings

"What's so funny you two?" Dalia asked them.

They both got really red in the face and clammed up. I figured it was some guy joke. Dalia looked a bit perturbed, but I could see how much she loved Frank when she whispered in his ear. He replied and she was off to get him one of the sandwiches moments later. The noise from all the conversations occurring might have been the reason for their close whispering. However, it felt odd re-encountering it after having been away from them these past few months.

"Hey, Mike. I'm going to go change. I'll be back down in a few minutes, okay?"

"Yep, I'll be up to change in a minute. Just catching up with Frank," he said, as another huge grin began to form on Frank's face.

"Give me a hug, Frank," I said, as I reached down and squeezed him tight. "Don't you corrupt him," I whispered to him playfully.

Frank whispered back, "Don't you, either."

His words, although playful, caught me off guard. I wondered if the laugh had been about me. Surely not. Standing erect again, I smiled, but I was the one blushing now. I walked quickly from the kitchen. My nephews, no longer in the family room, I proceeded upstairs unaccosted. I started thinking about how Dalia and Frank interacted in the kitchen and wondered if Mike and I gave off similar vibes to people.

In Mike's room I moved my suitcase to his bed and opened it. I had over packed, but if I hadn't, I wouldn't have brought any clothes for tennis. I didn't bring my actual tennis outfit, but I did bring a short skirt, a tee shirt and some sneakers that would work fine. Stripping down to my bra and panties I folded my blouse and khaki pants. I was about to place them on the dresser but decided Mike might obsess about things out of place if I left them there. So, I began looking to see if he'd left a drawer free.

I should probably have waited and asked, because the first drawer I opened revealed some magazines. It was a little shocking to see that the one on top had a woman with a vague resemblance to me and listed an interview with one of the candidates for president, who was now actually the president elect. Setting down the clothes momentarily, I removed the top one which was fairly worn. As I removed it, I couldn't help but notice the stack beneath it in the drawer must have contained a couple dozen more of them.

Leafing through the one I'd picked up, I found her stapled picture on the centerfold. As I studied several of the other photographs on the pages in front of the centerfold, I couldn't get over the uncanny resemblance. My breasts definitely weren't as big, I wasn't tanned and my pubic area wasn't as neatly trimmed as hers, in fact mine was fairly thick. But the shapes of our faces and hair style were nearly identical, even though my nose might have been a tad different. As I stooped to return it, I noticed this magazine was much more dog-eared even though it had this month's date on it. The others in the drawer were in almost new condition. Suddenly the bedroom door was opening and I was caught with my hand in his drawer full of secrets as I returned the magazine.

"Mike, I'm sorry. I was looking for a drawer to put these in," I said reflexively grabbing up the folded clothes.

He saw what I had been replacing but didn't get upset or even blush. Instead, he continued into the room and closed the door quietly. "Maya, you look a hundred times better than her." His eyes drifted over me.

It wasn't true. I knew it wasn't true and I couldn't understand why he was flattering me so. He'd never even seen me like that, but his words gave me a tingle all up my spine. As I got over the feeling I'd been caught, I realized he was staring at me. I tried, without much success, to ignore the fact that my nipples had become extremely tight and were now straining against the thin cotton fabric. I was consumed by the thought that perhaps Mike had been looking at these pictures of her while he thought of me.

Suddenly, I made a logical leap. "Mike, is this what you and Frank were laughing about?" I asked, pointing at her.

Now his face was bright red. Redder than it had been downstairs.

"I only brought up the interview. Frank was the one that mentioned we knew someone who looked better than the centerfold," he said. "You do, you know?" he asked, as he stepped to embrace me.

I couldn't help my response. He was so adorable. I tilted my head to invite his kiss. We resumed where we'd broken off before Mom had come home with the others. Mike was less urgent now, but his access to me below the waist hadn't gone unnoticed. His hand was soon rubbing me lightly between my legs. My concentration went right out the window and my cotton panties were starting to soak through. I heard myself moan and it brought me back to reality.

As much as I wanted to continue, I had to break it off. "Mike, we can't." I pulled away from him slightly.

"I know but I can't change how I feel. I'm so glad you came home. I missed you so much."

"We weren't like this when I left. What's changed?"

"It was like this. At least I thought -" He paused. A little tremor danced on his bottom lip. "Didn't you feel it? That last night - before you left for Harvard - didn't you know? You saved me, pulled me back from despair."

It had been me. I had changed it. It wasn't intentional, but in my desperation to sooth him - those kisses, that long impassioned kiss on the lips, even without our tongues being involved, had changed everything. They'd sealed our entangled codependency. My guilt pressed in on me for a moment, but I fought back, what I'd done wasn't wrong.

"I did," I admitted. "You were falling apart and I rushed in to save you. Nothing else was more important. Nothing else would calm you. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. You mean the world to me."

"I needed what you gave me - now I want it more than anything," he said. "I've thought of nothing else these past few months."

"We can't do this right now. We have to be somewhat normal: play tennis, take walks or ride our bikes. We can't stay up here in your room together, someone will notice."

Mike relented for the moment, "Okay, let's go play. At least we can be together."

Things were different though and the ramifications were nearly instantaneous. When I went to my suitcase to get the skirt and tee shirt I'd pulled out, I didn't bother to cover or hide from Mike. As I began pulling on my skirt, Mike took things one step further and simply undressed directly in front of me. He didn't merely take off his shoes and jeans; he also removed his boxers revealing his excited penis. I gasped audibly as I saw it but he made no attempt to cover himself.

He walked right passed me to retrieve a pair of briefs from the dresser. With great effort I restrained my desire to touch his bouncing cock again right now. I didn't get the feeling he was showing off, parading or even trying to get my attention; it was like this was simply how things were now. Without thinking about it, I turned to watch him as he pulled the tight briefs up over his still engorged manhood. He saw me watching but made no indication that he was disturbed in any way. He watched me pull on my shirt with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. When he pulled on a pair of shorts I realized his boxers would have hung down below the shorts he was now wearing.

Somewhere inside his head, this all had some logical frame of reference. He couldn't change the circumstances, but some previous attitude had changed. Somewhere in his mind, another switch had flipped; this was now another aspect of our perfectly normal openness. We sat side by side on the bed putting on our sneakers. Then he was up and in his walk-in closet retrieving the rackets, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Back in the room with me he stood by the dresser as I finished tying my shoes.

"I did empty a drawer for you. You can put these in the bottom drawer," he said, as he pointed at my folded clothing.

Then Mike pulled out the drawer at the bottom of his dresser to show me. He'd emptied out the biggest one for me. He always thought of everything when it came to my needs. That's how it was, he put me first in so many ways. I observed that his erection had subsided now. I took the folded clothing, placed them neatly in the drawer and closed it.

"Ready?" he asked simply, as he offered me one of the shiny new rackets.

"Yeah, let's go," I said, as I opened the door. "You have some balls?" I realized the slip as soon as it was out. I knew Freud would say it was my subconscious mind, but I really didn't think it was.

Mike let it go. "Yes, none of them are new, but we've still got the pickup hopper in the storage closet by the pool."

"Those'll be fine. I haven't played since I left. You're going to have me running ragged enough without fresh ones."

We headed back downstairs together and back through the still crowded kitchen. Our eldest brother Ben was here with his wife Anna, now. Their son and daughter, Lev and Aya, were at the table eating with their cousins. Ben and David were in a deep discussion and Anna was with the women. Although Lev was twelve and Aya was eleven, Mellony, who was closer to their age, only seemed to be interested in talking to Zach.

Mom was returning through the mud room door. I told her, "We're going to play a bit. Do you need any help putting things away before we go?"

"No, honey. You two have fun. Did you ask Dalia if she wanted to play?"

"Yeah, she said, 'Maybe later'."

"We're probably going to send the kids outside when they finish eating, so the adults can talk a bit. You'll keep an eye out for them, won't you?"

"Yes, Mom," Mike interjected. "They'll be fine. Just make sure they know we're in charge," he laughed, as he thumped his racket head on his chest.

"Okay, dear. We will," she laughed at his playful gesture.

Outside Mike got the balls from the closet and I got the big broom. At the tennis court, I started sweeping the leaves. Mike took a turn when they were about half gone. Then we warmed up a bit with some jumping jacks and stretches. Mikes shorts tented for a brief period after he observed me jumping, I pretended not to notice. Then we warmed up hitting some balls out of the hopper. Mike set it up near the net and sent over some easy ones for me to hit. My forehand was good, but my backhand was rusty.

"Sorry," I offered. Wow, I was really rusty. One of the balls went over the fence.

"Nice one," Mike teased me.

"It's been almost four months."

We finished up the remaining balls and then I asked, "You don't really need any practice ones, do you?"

"Nope."

Then we gathered up the balls back into the hopper. I took out a few of the nicer ones to play with.

"Three sets?" I asked, as I traded one of the balls out for a nicer one.

"Nothing official here, Maya," he said, letting me off easy.

"You don't have to take it easy on me. I deserve whatever I get. I should have joined a college club."

"We'll see how it goes," he said, as his eyes followed me.

I put the balls down beside me as I bent to retie my shoe. I wasn't watching, but when I looked up I could tell he had been staring directly at my panty clad crotch. My mind was a buzz again - helplessly - hopelessly - I loved him.

I stood and handed him the balls, saying, "Okay, you serve first."

The next two hours were fun and exhausting. Mike was probably at the top of his game. The nice weather wasn't too hot or cool, it was really perfect for play. He did have me running all over the court, when he let me get past his serve. After the first set, which he won easily, he took things down a notch. The play was more focused upon having fun. Hitting the ball back and forth, not going for the killer shots. My service went pretty good. He let me have a few serves that he should have easily returned.

Mike had a natural spin that he didn't use much during real games. His natural slice was kind of a signature save move. He graced me with a few of them on lobs that should have been slammed back over the net nonreturnable. His sliced returns gave me time to reposition to hit the ball back, but frequently jumped away unpredictably at the last moment. It was a tease move and it felt like he was teasing me mercilessly today, in more ways than one.

The new racket definitely was better than the wooden one I'd left at my apartment. It gave me some grace I probably didn't earn. The large open sweet spot returned balls I shouldn't have gotten.

Towards the end of our second set, the kids were all out in the yard, so we took a short break. Aya, Lev, Mellony, Zach and Mica were all playing freeze tag nicely with one another. We watched them a few minutes and then resumed our play. By the time Mike and I were about finished, the situation had changed a little; Aya and Lev were tossing a ball with Mica, while Mellony and Zach had taken to the swings. Mellony was pushing Zach to get him started, he was loving the attention from her and she was eating up the constant stream of his worship for her. Their three year age difference hardly seemed to matter to either of them.

Mike and I finished up and joined Mellony and Zach by the swings. I pushed Mellony and Mike pushed Zach while they gazed at each other as they passed by one another. Zach kept asking Mike to push him higher so he could catch up to Mellony. They were so adorable and I couldn't help thinking that I'd like my kids to be just like them.

A little later, the adults came out for a couple of rounds of croquet. I hadn't noticed it was already set up, but I guess Mike had done it for Mom. After we finished our tennis, Mike and I joined Mom to watch the rest of them play. It was a great afternoon. By sunset everyone was tired and the cool night air was settling in on us.

Back inside all the kids were hungry again and more sandwiches were served up. I wasn't hungry and told them I was going to take a shower. I'd gotten all sweaty and then cooled down so now I felt sticky. I didn't see Mike, I figured he was still watching some of the kids outside. So I headed up to get showered.

In Mike's room I pulled off my sneakers, socks, shirt, skirt, bra and finally the damp cotton panties. The panties were still pretty moist, so I didn't want to put them away in the drawer where they might sour. Instead, I got my flannel nightgown from the suitcase and laid it over the end of the bed. I unpacked all but a few items into the bottom drawer Mike had cleared for me. Then set the suitcase back on its side atop the blanket chest at the end of the bed. Finally, I placed the dirty clothes in a heap on top of the closed suitcase.

Traipsing through the water closet into the bathroom, the cool little hexagonal tiles under my feet felt nice. It felt like home and honestly, I felt like Mokem Miklet was my true home. Sliding open the glass door, I turned on the shower and let it warm up. Once there was steam visible on the glass, I climbed in and began washing. I used the pink soap bar directly, I hadn't stopped to get a washcloth. Mike had the same shampoo we both used in the shower and I lathered up with it. That was when I heard his bedroom door close. I'd forgotten to close the bathroom door - I felt exposed momentarily but then decided, what did it matter really? I finished rinsing my hair, turned off the water and stepped from the shower.

Mike was standing there with a great big towel for me. He held it up for me and I stepped into it. It was warm as he wrapped me in it and hugged me tight. He'd placed a second towel on the counter and that's when I noticed he was nude. His muscular form fully visible in the mirror over the counter. His erection pressed against the towel. I could see it in the mirror and I could feel it on my tummy. Our eyes met and conveyed our love. He kissed me gently on the forehead and released me. The water was running again and just as suddenly as he'd been holding me, he'd slipped passed me and moved into the shower. Slightly disappointed, I continued to dry in the towel and returned to the bedroom as I contemplated how long he might have been standing there.

Pulling my nightgown over my head, it occurred to me that neither of us had spoken a word. I wrapped my hair in a beehive with the towel when someone knocked on Mike's door. I quickly closed the door to the bathroom and went to see who it was. Opening it, I found Dalia standing there with an odd look on her visage.

Between the doorway and her, I saw the light on in the room across the hall with her suit case in the doorway and made an assumption. "Hey, I thought you and Frank would be staying down in the other master; are you staying in my old room this week?" I asked, as she started into Mike's room.

"Yeah, actually we are. Bubbe and Zayde are going to be in the guest master. She can't do the stairs with her walker." Mom's parents had always been called by the Yiddish terms for Grandma and Grandpa.

"Can Frank?" I asked. I hadn't ever seen him attempt stairs. Their little house in town was a single story and he'd been in the second master during all his stays here.

"You'd be surprised what Frank can do," she answered crisply.

For some reason, those words struck me as a weird thing to hear her say. Her answer carried all kinds of implications. I wondered where this was going as I watched her close the door to a small crack.

"I think Mike will be finished in the bathroom shortly," I offered. "Is that what you wanted?"

"No, Maya, I thought we should talk," she said. However, now regarding the light beneath the closed bathroom door with suspicion, she continued, "But I guess we're not alone."

"I don't have many secrets from Mike, you know how close we are."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What?"

"Does Mom know?"

"Does Mom know, what?"

"About you two," she said, as her voice dropped to a whisper.

I was a little confused. "Dalia, don't mince your words. Ask me and I'll tell you as honestly as I can."

"Does Mom know you and Mike are - having sex?"

"What? I - uh. We aren't - we haven't," I sputtered. "Why? What makes you think we are?"

"Maya, we're sisters, something has changed. I haven't seen Mike smile like he has today, since before you left for Harvard. He moped around here for weeks after you left. Mom had me come visit on multiple occasions to see if I could help cheer him up."

Suddenly, tears welled in my eyes. "I know," I said, as my lip trembled. "I didn't know about your visits -" I broke off what I was saying when I heard the bathroom door open.

Then Mike was coming into the room. He had his over-sized towel fully wrapped around his waist. I sniffed trying to stem back the tears and get myself under control. I don't know if he'd heard any of the conversation, especially the last parts, since Dalia had spoken at barely a whisper.

"Hey, Dalia. The shower is free now," Mike said, giving me an odd look. "I heard Mom ask you if you would mind taking Maya's room when Bubbe and Zayde arrived."

"Thanks, I really need one after all the outdoor time today," she said heading for the door.

When she was out and the solid redwood door was fully closed, I moved to Mike.

"What was just going on?" He asked looking at my eyes.

I turned and whispered to his ear, "She wanted to know if Mom knew we were having sex." I left out the part about her noticing the change in his demeanor.

"Well, I'm not going to tell her; are you?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

But this wasn't a joking thing. "We haven't really even done anything and somehow they already know, Mike."

"I don't care," he stated flatly.

"Oh my goodness, what am I going to do with you?"

"I already told you. I simply want you to love me. That's all I need."

The conversation was cut short due to a new uproar from downstairs.