His breath caught in his throat.
And he was instantly erect.
It was a completely unexpected reaction. He had never before thought of his sister in that way, had never really seen her as anything other than his older sibling, a bully and a pain in his ass, but that galvanizing look between her legs had stirred him, and he casually glanced that way again, but her knees were together and he could see nothing.
This was wrong. She was his sister, for God’s sake. He wasn’t supposed to be aroused or sexually stimulated by her. He never had been before this, and he didn’t know why it was happening now, but today he was a teenager, and maybe that was the cause of it. Maybe some kind of hormone kicked in when you turned thirteen and you just couldn’t help thinking about sex.
He wanted to tell Scott about it, wanted to share what he’d seen, but something held him back. It was not guilt or embarrassment. Not exactly. It wasn’t any respect for his sister or her right to privacy.
It was the fact that he didn’t want his friend to see her.
Jealousy and possessiveness? The waitress brought their drinks, and Adam took his glass and downed a huge swallow of Coke. There was something wrong with him. This wasn’t normal. He wasn’t supposed to be having these… Thoughts? Feelings? Urges?
He didn’t know what they were, but he knew they weren’t supposed to be there.
He’d seen Sasha in a bathing suit before, of course, but somehow this was different, and as much as he hated himself for doing it, he kept looking over as they waited for the food to arrive, hoping to catch another glimpse. It was the fact that it was her underwear that made it so exciting. The ugliest, unsexiest panties were more intimate than the tiniest bathing suit—their sole purpose was to shield the most private of areas, to protect a girl’s secret spot. It was something boys weren’t supposed to see, and it was the fact that he had seen that was so forbidden and nasty and sexy.
He had a difficult time concentrating on the rest of the evening. They did bring a chocolate sundae with a lit candle and everyone did sing, but he was not that embarrassed. He was too distracted to object, and he went along with everything without too much fuss.
Later, after opening the presents, after going with his dad to drop Scott off at his house, he pretended he was tired and retreated to his room.
He sat on the bed, replaying the scene in his mind. He saw again the way she’d shifted in the booth, moving her legs, and how for a few brief seconds he’d had that perfect view of white cotton-covered crotch. He’d had a boner for half the night, although he’d been able to successfully hide it, and now he was once again hard.
Sasha’s bedroom was right next to his, and he thought about drilling a hole in the wall between the two rooms so he could peek at her, so he could watch her getting dressed and undressed, but he knew that was not realistic. It was also not right. As he kept telling himself, she was his sister, and when he even started to think about her in that way, he should immediately try to focus on some other unrelated topic. That was unhealthy, perverted.
Still, he could not stop thinking about it, and the thought that there was only a wall between them, that she took off her clothes in there in order to put on her pajamas, aroused him.
He wondered what she was doing now. He wondered if she was naked. He placed his ear against the wall, listened. He could hear her, moving around, and he quietly pulled down his pants and leaned back on the bed. He began stroking himself, imagining she was walking around her room without any clothes on. He had never seen a naked girl before, not a real one, only pictures in magazines, but he could easily conjure up the picture in his mind.
He thought of her secret spot, covered only by thin, snugly fitted cotton material.
It was getting close, he could feel it reaching the fever pitch, and he began stroking faster, harder. He knew it was wrong, knew it was sick, but he wanted to hear her voice, wanted her to talk to him as he climaxed.
He closed his eyes, thought about that glimpse of white cotton panty.
“Sasha?” he called.
“What?” she said from her bedroom.
“Sasha?”
“What?” she yelled.
And he came.
Seven
1
Julia needed the van to buy groceries, and after lunch she offered to drop Gregory back off at the café, but he said he’d rather walk off the calories, and he gave her a quick kiss and started up the drive.
He was looking better since they’d moved to McGuane. The middle-age spread that had been overtaking his midsection for the past few years had receded somewhat, and he looked fitter than he had in quite some time. All the walking on those hilly streets was doing him good. He seemed happier, too, than he had back in California, and he’d made the adjustment to small-town life quite easily.
She was getting used to McGuane herself. After her disastrous attempt at volunteering, she’d retreated back into her home and actually started to write her children’s book. So far it was going surprisingly well. She was pleased with what she’d accomplished.
There’d also been no new “incidents,” as she called them, and her fear and dread seemed to have disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. She could still not truthfully say that she felt comfortable in the house, but she was not afraid of it anymore, and while Gregory’s mother continued to say a quick prayer each and every time she entered the place, a hurried blessing muttered half under her breath, she’d always done that, and it didn’t bother Julia at all.
She walked back inside the kitchen, picked up the grocery list she’d made, and invited her mother-in-law to accompany her to the store, making it clear that she was planning to go to the Molokan market, but the old lady declined, claiming she was tired. She’d been tired ever since the funeral, and both Julia and Gregory were worried about her. She seemed to have lost something after Jim Petrovin’s death, some spark of animation, and she seemed to be just existing these days, exhibiting little or no interest in… well, in anything. It was as if she had simply disconnected herself from life and was biding her time, waiting to die.
This could not go on. Julia knew that she and Gregory were going to have to sit her down and talk to her, but Julia did not feel qualified or comfortable enough to do it alone, and she did not press her mother-in-law to go on the trip to the market. She simply nodded, accepting the old woman’s decision, and said that she’d be back in twenty minutes or so.
Julia took the keys out of her purse, walked outside, and got into the van, starting the ignition and immediately turning on the air conditioner. They had discussed buying another vehicle—they could certainly afford it now—but one seemed to be enough at this point. Sasha had been pressuring them for her own car, and while she and Gregory had adopted a “we’ll see” attitude in front of their daughter, they were planning on getting her a jeep for graduation.
She drove down to the market, parking in the dirt lot on the side of the building. She grabbed a shopping cart and looked up at the painted butcher paper in the window that advertised this week’s specials. Bell peppers were on sale, as were whole chicken fryers, and she mentally adjusted her planned menu, deleting ground beef from her list. They would have fajitas tomorrow instead of burgers.
She’d finished most of her shopping and was in the canned-food aisle picking up some diced green chiles, when a woman next to her said, “Excuse me, don’t you work at the library?”