Incest/Taboo Broken

I got up when I heard the buzzer that the oven had preheated. Waving for my mother to stay when she started to get up. Flinching away when the wave of heat struck my face. Peeking into the living room once I put our dinner in the oven. I nearly leaped out of my skin as I closed the freezer door and Emily as standing there.

"Me and Mom wanted another drink... okay?" Emily said, lifting up the glasses.

"Sure," I said, backing away. "For future reference if you happen to be here longer than planned for, when the bottle gets below half, put another one in the fridge so it will be nice and cold when its opened. Okay?" I asked, reaching for the other baking sheet.

"I-if you want we can drink water." I heard the tremble in her voice.

"No. I'm not saying that, just saying, I don't like drinking warm soda," I said, smiling at her hopefully telling her it was fine. "In the pantry," pointing to the door behind her, "on the floor that's where you'll find them. You can do that right?"

"Yes, of course," Emily nodded her head. "I-I'll tell Mom. What are you doing?" I glanced over at her as she stepped up to my side as I laid the tin foil down onto the sheet.

"This way the bread won't stick to the pan, plus less clean up."

"I see... and we're having those with dinner?" Emily asked, as I laid out the eight pieces on the pan to thaw out. Watching her nose wiggle as it caught the scent of the garlic bread. I noted how she took a few swallows as she stared down at those eight frozen slices.

"First time having garlic bread?" I asked, the shaking of her head really surprised me given everything I've learned so far about this side of Roy I never knew about. I was equally perplexed by the devious smirk she was wearing as she turned to look at me.

"Mom bought me a little salt shaker, she had to be sneaky about it. When Dad was gone, I'd pull it out from the vent that the couch covered. Then I'd sprinkle the garlic salt onto some toast, but nothing like this," Emily said in awe, as she stared down at the inch thick slices. "I've been thinking about what you said yesterday," she said, her brown hair brushed along her cheek as she rose and turned her head to look me. I knew she would definitely look like Pauline in six years. Well... can't say history will repeat itself here, now can I?

"Okay, what about it?" I asked, not liking where this was going.

"If I'm not your sister then that makes me your aunt," there was definitely a mischievousness in that smirk of hers, "although I would really like to try to be your sister. I'd have to say, I'd probably say the same thing as you -- if I didn't have... well... Dad. I hope you'll at least give me the chance. If you can't I'll understand." I watched how her body language took on a somber tone.

"Listen... just because you aren't living here if that comes to pass, that does not mean we can't talk," I said, watching her reaction of the realization setting in as her eyes widened as she turned her gaze back to me. "Don't you two have like a cell phone?"

"Yeah... Then does that mean we... can call you?" Emily asked, with excited eyes.

"Let's start out with... you do know how to text... I see," I said, as she shook her head. "Then calling is fine... just don't abuse it," I stated as I set the timer for when it was time to put the bread in.

"Will you teach me how to text?" Emily asked me, as she followed closely behind me.

"Sure... why don't you go get your phone," I said, over my shoulder. Taking very careful note of the light brushing of her breasts against my back. Way too close! My back stiffened as I felt my half-sister press her firm, round, soft breasts into my back as her fingers curled around my shirt.

"T-then may be if I have like a bad dream one night... would it be okay to call you?"

"Me? Why not your sister?" If she wanted to throw the aunt thing around I thought I'd do the same.

"Mom wasn't the only one that stalked your Facebook."

"Okay... I'm really, really going to have to set that to private," I said to myself.

"I know you didn't post about her death, yet after it... and now, it felt so sad. Thinking that you were all alone. Yet I was there, I'm Feby Ticklebottom." I heard Emily giggle behind me as she said the name. "I tried to tell you without coming out and saying it. That you weren't alone, we were still there, yet I feared that if I did you'd block me and never want to talk to me again." I felt her hot breath flowing through my shirt as she pressed her forehead against my back.

"Honestly, I thought you were a bot given the lapses in time that you posted on my stuff," I said, trying everything to not focus on how her breasts felt.

"Well... I couldn't access it all the time, I had to wait for when Mom was out since she liked to stare at your picture for hours... Then I had about an hour to go through everything you posted."

"I see," I said, wondering where this obsession about me was going to go. My eyes glanced over to the right as saw the shadow of my mother approaching.

"Jacob? Are you coming back to watch the movie?" Pauline asked, with her head bowed as she stood at the threshold.

"Yeah, I'm just weighed down at the moment," I said, nodding to Emily behind me.

"Well..." Brushing her hair behind her ear I noted how her cheeks heated as her eyes glanced up at me then back down then up again. "I paused the movie, Emily let go of your brother so we can continue."

"Okay Mom," Emily said, from behind me. I was taken aback as Emily placed a kiss on my cheek. "Thank you, I know you didn't want to, but you allowed us in. You're a good man."

I just stood there very confused. Am I really a good man? I don't think one would say that if they knew what I was thinking about them. Then again, I'm probably the only one that's ever been kind to Emily.

I quickly got up at the sound of the buzzer. I had removed the lid from the lasagna fifteen minutes prior so the cheese could get all nice and brown. We all like that, don't we? I walked hurriedly into the kitchen; I wasn't about to allow the bread to burn. Giving the pan a nod of approval as I pulled it out. Setting it on the back of the stove, it wasn't long before I heard feet approaching as the smell of the lasagna drifted through the house.

"Shall we help set the table?" Pauline asked, as she stood in the doorway to my left with Emily peering over her left shoulder.

"Sure, if you want," I said, looking over at her. "You know where the plates are," I stated as I rummaged through the silverware drawer looking for that pesky spatula. Twirling it in my fingers as I plucked the bowl my grandmother always used for bread when it was being served at dinner, out of the dish rack. Laying a clean dish towel in the bowl. Arranging the bread just so, so that the cheese wouldn't stick to the underside of another piece. I hate that when it happens. Handing the bowl off to Emily who quickly carried it to the table. My mother stood there with plates in hand as I cut the lasagna into squares. The first plate filled my hand as I held it out only to be passed onto Emily who quickly returned until only my plate was left. There was enough left over for each of us to have another serving. I cocked an eyebrow as Emily and Pauline were muttering low with their heads bowed and their hands linked together. "Grace? Really?" I muttered to myself as I took my seat. "Then again, they just might have needed God. Who fucking knows."

"Jacob," I had thought we were going for the silent dinner but appears I was wrong, "I called Emily's doctor when we were grocery shopping."

"Okay, and when did you get her a doctor?" I asked, I wasn't expecting my mother's cheeks to turn crimson at my question. I so don't understand that woman.

"Last week, when we first arrived in town," Pauline muttered.

"Mom was working up the courage to see you," Emily said, before taking a bite of the bread. If I didn't know any better I'd say my half-sister, or aunt, whichever you want to call her, almost had an orgasm.

"There's no feta cheese in here?!" I looked over to my mother who stared down in shock at her dinner.

"Why would there be? I hate feta cheese," I stated.

"That's not what I meant..." I noticed how hard it was for her to pull back her hand. "Just when Roy bought it he would force us to eat it knowing how I don't like it either." I watched how her hand tightened around her fork. "So after that he stopped buying it once we made a fuss about the feta cheese. Not that I cared, I had to vomit it up when I was done."

"This is so much better!" I nodded as Emily dug into her food.

"Yes, yes it is," Pauline sighed as she took her first bite.

"Okay so, what did the doctor say?" I asked, after my mother had hurriedly eaten half of her portion glancing over to my left as Emily slid her chair back, having already wolfed down her own. "Where does that girl put it?" I nodded to the stove when she started to speak. Alright, I'll admit her eyes are dazzling when they sparkle like they were at that moment. When my mother looked down at her plate then to the stove and then to me, I just waved her on.

"She said: she would like to see you at eleven tomorrow, so they can get a sample and see if you're healthy enough for the transplantation," Pauline said, as she walked back to the table after she got her second helping.

"I'll be there too!" I looked down as Emily covered my hand with hers as she leaned over the table. "I know you're going to save me. I just know it!" As much as I would like to make a sarcastic remark then, I didn't, as much as it pained me not too. I just simply nodded my head, no sense in kicking her when she's down given their lives.

"God. I really, really hate you Fate!" I silently cursed the heavens! Before long, and yes, Emily ate my slice of lasagna and she and Pauline polished off the last of the bread. "Great! Don't save me half of one!" I sighed to myself. And with that, they rose from their seats, took the dirty dishes, and prepared to clean up after our dinner. I mean wouldn't you mind not having to do the dishes?

"Jacob... can I use the dishwasher?" Pauline asked inquisitively, as she pointed at it.

"Yeah sure, just rinse off the spatula and stuff and have at it," I said, as I got up. "The soap is under the sink." I was going to have to run a cycle anyway given how the dishes had been building up inside of it. What? I'm lazy alright! Plus it's not sensible to run a load with only one plate in it. No, there isn't mold growing on the plates. I just forgot to turn it on this morning.

"Like this Jacob?" Pauline asked, placing the detergent pack into the slot.

"Mmmhmm," I nodded as she closed it and shut the door. "Now see that little lever at the top push it to the left."

"Okay, why?" Pauline asked, as she did it.

"Locks the door so if something happens the kitchen won't get flooded. Now turn the knob to the left two times and hit start," I instructed. I watched as she and Emily stood in awe as the machine started. "Who wants to watch Top Gun?" I was not expecting how fast my mother's head snapped towards me. I knew that was the movie she and my father watched when they wanted some romance. Yes, I know, it really isn't, what can I say, my father was a strange man -- and Pauline? -- well she would snuggle up to him, rest her head on his shoulder, and have this smile on her face; or that's what my grandmother told me when she got this sad look on her face when it came on the cable channel.

"Jacob... I don't think that would be appropriate," Pauline said. Was it wrong of me to get some sense of joy out of watching her squirm? Oh, most definitely! Did I care? Fuck no. I was having a ball.

"Why not?" I asked, with a wicked smirk. "You got a problem with Top Gun?" I inquired as I looked over at Emily.

"Mom? Isn't that the movie you never want to watch?" Emily whispered, yet I heard it clearly in my '50 style kitchen. Yes I remodeled it to look like Bobby Singer's kitchen from Supernatural. I did tell you I was that kind of fan boy. No. I don't have the basement safe room. Not that I haven't thought about it.

"Please Jacob, must we?" Pauline asked, with those pleading eyes of hers.

"Mmmhmm," I nodded. I wasn't about to make her life easy.

"Okay," Pauline said weakly, hanging her head. "But if I hold on to you, don't say you weren't warned," she said, as her eyes glanced over to me.

"I'll risk it," I stated as I poured myself another glass. "Hmm," I hummed as I stared down at the pantry floor. "Tomorrow after the docs we're going to have to stop and get more soda, you didn't buy any." I didn't see my mother move or hear her for that matter as I bent down and picked another two litter from the floor. "Way too close," I muttered to myself trying not to drop the bottle as my mother stood less than six inches away from me.

"Please Jacob, it was a mistake..."

"Whoa, whoa, it's just soda, it's not the end of the world," I said, noting the look of fear in my mother's eyes. That was never an emotion I ever saw or at least that's what I remember anyway. Yet the way my mother looked at me to her it might be the end of the world.

"Are you sure?" Pauline asked, looking at me with watery eyes. I didn't plan on it, my hand just moved on its own. I felt my mother tremble as my hand rested on her shoulder. I watched as she bit her lip as she peered down at my hand. Then those brown eyes of hers found their way back to me. I tried not to be creeped out at how she stared at me and brushed her cheek against my hand. "You've finally t-touched me. I wanted you to do it first if at all. You don't know how long I've waited to feel your touch again.

To feel the hands of my son," Pauline said, getting misty eyed. How I wish I'd never done that. Now it appears I'm tethered to my mother seeing how she won't let go of my hand. "Now I know I can get through the movie." I got a feeling that my mother wasn't all there, or that I had somehow flipped a switch in that brain of hers. If the look in her eyes was any indication then Roy must have done something to my mother in all those years. "Emily, place this," I looked down as my mother took the bottle from my hand, "in the fridge, we wouldn't want to displease Jacob."

Okay, I was totally on edge. "Displease me?! What the fuck?!" I asked myself in a worrying tone. I just hoped that she wasn't about to become a female version of Norman Bates.

"Of course," Emily nodded vehemently. "You have apple jelly!" she squealed in surprise. I peered over Pauline's shoulder as I watched Emily dance in the open door of the fridge. "Can I have some in the morning?" She looked at me with these excited eyes.

"Sure, you just make sure you clean up after yourself," I said, wondering just what kind of crazy did I get myself into.

"Yes brother." That sounded so... strange and dirty especially with the way she was looking at me.

"You can't forget about this!" Pauline said excitedly, handing me my drink.

"Thanks," I muttered trying to dislodge my mother's grip. Only to feel her tightening it, those wild eyes telling me she wasn't letting go. I groaned inwardly as I heard my mother giggling behind me as I walked back to the living room.

I tried not to be alarmed by how my mother was snuggling up to me. The way my hand was trapped between Pauline's thighs; far, far, far too close to her womanhood. The way her fingers danced lightly up and down my right arm. How the strawberry scent of the shampoo that was in the guest bath filled my nostrils as she rested her left cheek on my shoulder. Just like how she used to do with Dad when Berlin's 'Take My Breath Away' started to play during the movie.

"You look so much like Billy when he was your age," Pauline whispered into my ear.

"Well... He didn't live past it," I said, sarcastically.

"I know... honey, I can't tell you how sorry I am about that. I never wanted to hurt Billy, I was only trying to help my family. If I knew that was what had happened I would've found a way to come home. I would never intentionally leave you behind. Just things happened, things that won't ever affect us again." I saw that she wasn't telling me the whole truth on that matter. Yet I also saw she wasn't going to talk about it.

"Uh-huh," I mumbled as I got up.

"Jacob?!" I glanced down as my mother quickly turned and her hand gripped the back cushion.

"I want ice cream," I grumbled. Did she actually think I would buy that load of garbage?! If I was so damn important then why did she wait eighteen years to show up?

"Here," I said coldly, as I held out the Drumstick to my half-sister.

"What's this?" Emily asked, looking up at me with those inquisitive eyes of hers.

"Ice cream," I stated.

"It's a Drumstick sweetheart," Pauline said, as she leaned over. "Open it by pulling there," she spoke as she pointed at the little tab. "Thank you Jacob." I was a little unnerved by that smile of hers.

"That was so good!" Emily exclaimed as she threw her arms into the air. The gun shots of Dean's rock salt shotgun resounded through the speakers as I looked over at her. Shaking my head at how she was wiggling in her seat. Looking over at the clock, knowing I couldn't leave my house a mess. Plus, it would get me away from my odd relatives. "Don't you want to keep watching?!" Emily asked, as I got up.

"Not really," I stated. I wasn't in the mood.

"Then can I go back and continue to watch that Alien show?" Emily asked, I saw her eyes glancing at the remote.

"Sure, knock yourself out," I said, over my shoulder as I left the room.

The lasagna pan found its new home in the trash. Knowing Emily was going to eat me out of house and home. It was like Roy never gave them enough to eat. Rubbing my forehead asking myself: what the hell did I get myself into? I honestly don't have a clue. Wondering if I should buy a lock for my bedroom door and lay down a line of Goofer dust. And yes, I can make it. It's not hard, it's just simple Hoodoo. My head shot up; my body stilled as the sound of my mother's voice filled the room.

"Jacob, please let me help," Pauline spoke softly as she stepped into the kitchen.

"It's not much..."

"Please let me help," Pauline said, quickly stepping forward.

"Fine. You can unload the washer," I said, moving off.

"It was too much, too soon wasn't it?" Pauline asked, as she stood in front of the dishwasher. I looked over at her as I wrung out the sponge I used to wipe down the kitchen table.

"A little bit," I nodded. I looked down at the sleeve of my shirt as her index finger and thumb held onto it.

"You know I did try to run away from Roy. Emily was three at the time. We were living in this small town in Oregon. Like I said, after Mom divorced Dad he went... crazy. That's the best word I can use to describe it. He was getting into some weird things, very painful things." I glanced down as she rubbed her stomach. "When he was out one day, he had left the car behind seeing how one of his newfound friends had picked him up. Thinking he had broken me, I snatched car keys from the hook. Packed a bag for me and Emily and sped the fuck out of that hell. We were in Idaho; I don't know how he found us. I didn't use any of his cards.

I paid cash. He came breaking through the door, Roy had this look in his eyes. A look that said he was going to kill me and Emily. Yet that wasn't the case, it wasn't me." Pauline turned to me tears streaming down her cheeks. "I wanted so much to see you, hold you, do all the things we used to do before all of this! Yet as Roy held our daughter in a choke hold, I tried to break it, that only caused me to be thrown into the wall. As I came to, my little baby was unconscious, and Roy held a knife to her throat. Warning me that if I tried to run ever again, that I would watch as he kills our daughter in front of me. Then he back handed me and again and again until I answered. You see it wasn't that I didn't want to come back, yet I couldn't risk Emily. I knew Roy would do it, and I'd be left to live the rest of my life with the horror of my daughter's death forever haunting me."

"Really? Kind of..."

"Look at Emily's neck right here," Pauline said, tapping the spot left of her jugular vein. "Its faint, but the scar from Roy's knife is still there. Look if you don't believe me. I wouldn't lie to you Jacob. I want to be your Mom again. I want to be in your life. I can't do that if I lie to you."

"Why didn't you go to the police?" I asked, heatedly.

"Because most of the group he belonged to were the police. I was already afraid of the things he was learning at that place, I feared he would toss me and Emily to them."

"I see," I said, turning away from her. "That's a lot to process."

"I know honey, trust me I know. If I hadn't lived it until Roy's death then I would be as skeptical as you are. Yet I did, I know I left you there on the floor. I swear I was only leaving until Billy and Mom cooled off long enough so I could explain. I knew Mom wouldn't listen given how she shot at us right then." I felt her fingers curling around the back of my shirt. Her breath on the back of my neck. I was getting far too acquainted with the softness and the curves of the female members of my family. "I never meant to be away from you for so long." I felt her hands tightening around the fabric as she pressed her forehead against the back of my head. Feeling her hot tears dripping down onto my exposed skin. "I've missed you so much, no day went by that I did not look out the window imagining watching you walk down the driveway, walking into the house, smiling like you always did..."

"Dad wasn't the only one I lost that day," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I lost my mother; I was so alone. No one to help me through the grief."

"Oh Jacob," Pauline said, in that soft, sweet, warm motherly voice of hers. "I know, the moment you said that... Billy..." I peered over my shoulder as I felt her trembling against me. The shuddering breath of emotions she was trying to hold back. "When you told me I was the cause of his death. My heart spilt into two. I had wanted to see him, we might not have gotten back together, but maybe be friends again, to talk. But my sweet, sweet William." My father's given name, Dad just liked going by Billy. "I've killed the only man I ever wanted!" I felt my mother's body convulse in her sorrow. Her sobs were muffled by my shirt that was increasingly becoming soaked, however, her wails resounded loudly in that small homey kitchen. I huffed in surprise as I looked down seeing how her arms had wrapped themselves around me. "Please just let me hold you for a moment." I patted her hand as she continued to weep against my back. Then I got broadsided, I just rolled my eyes as Emily joined in. Their wails pierced my ear drums as their voices began to echo off the walls. I looked down quickly as Emily nestled my arm in the valley of mana.

"Does she always not wear a bra?" I asked myself as I tried not to notice how soft and firm they were as my arm felt every curve of her orbs as she cried against my shoulder. "You two done?" I inquired their sobs were starting to give me a damn headache.

Emily whimpered as she shook her head. "How can you be so cold, brother?" she asked, as she snuggled closer to me. Bloody weird if you ask me.

"Eighteen years of abandonment will do that to you," I said, plainly.

"But we're here now." Emily looked up at me, those doe like innocent eyes gazing at me. "That has to count for something doesn't it?! Doesn't it?" Emily asked, holding my hand right against her mons Venus as she held my hand.

"What the fuck is going on?!" That was my first thought as Emily rubbed her breasts against me. I can understand wanting a brother part, yet the way she was purposely rubbing her body against mine... I so had to get out of there before things got... weird. Again, my head shot down as my mother's left hand ran up along my chest while her right lowered just enough to hold onto my left hip. Holding me tightly against her chest.

"My baby has gotten so big," Pauline said, in this soft coo.

"Okay, I think we've had enough crazy for one day," I said, breaking their hold. "How about we just clean up, you watch your aliens, alright?" My eyes glanced at the two of them as I wiped down the table.

"Yes Jacob," Pauline nodded, wiping a tear away. "I finally got to hold my baby." I heard her whisper to the ceiling as she stood in front of the dishwasher.

"Well... come watch once you're done," Emily hummed as she sashayed out the room.

I had a feeling Fate was purposely putting me in places I really shouldn't be. And still, here we are, my mother speaking softly in the living room alone. Emily had gone to bed about thirty minutes ago when she finished her current episode. I hid out in my bedroom after I got the kitchen cleaned. Then why was I down on the first floor you ask, well, simple, clean sheets. Who doesn't love that feeling when you first crawl into bed. Am I right? So anyway, there I was, I swear I'm not doing this on purpose. But I digress.

"Mom... I know you probably hated me, but I hope there was just a small part of you that stilled loved me. More importantly, I had hoped you could have come to love Emily like you did me. I'll never stop asking your forgiveness just like I said at your grave. I can never repay you for looking after Jacob. I know you didn't have to, yet you did, because you're the best Mom I know." I heard her sniffling as I peeked around the doorframe. Her back was to me as she stood before the mantle of the fire place. Her arms out stretched, her palms rested on the painted wooden surface. Her head bowed as she prostrated before her own mother.

Leaning back, wondering if I should make my presence known or not. Should I be the nice guy or the bastard? Maybe a little of both, why not? My shoulder brushed along the wall as I pivoted around to lean against the door way. Giving the wall a little knock. Noting how she peered over her shoulder, a look telling me she wondered if I had heard anything. Which I did, I just wasn't about to bring it up. I so didn't want to have that conversation with her.

"Yes Jacob, is there something you need? Was I being too loud?" Pauline asked, I could see she was trying not to crawl back into that shell that she's lived in for the past eighteen years.

"Maybe she isn't as broken as she appeared to be," I muttered to myself. "No, was just going to tell you, to look in the bottom drawer," I said, jutting my chin at the large, antique china cabinet.

"Why?" Pauline asked, in this confused light.

"You might find something," I said, knowing what was in there. I had found it when I was packing stuff away after my grandmother's death. I had no idea she had that, nor did I know she had hired a PI for it either. I guess she wanted to keep it hidden until she found something. Don't ask me why she was looking for her after all this time. She was getting old, maybe grandma simply didn't want to have regrets before she died.

"Jacob... what is this?" Pauline asked, even though she knew exactly what they were as she held the files in her hands.

"Yeah, I had been meaning to decide on what to do with that once I had found it in grandma's room. I can't tell you why, since she didn't even tell me she hired some guy to track you down. If she had, I would've told her: why bother? But she didn't, I don't know how close she was in finding you," I said, arching an eyebrow as I watched her arms shake. "I take it very close."

"Y-yes," Pauline nodded. "Very close." I heard her whisper.

"You know grandma kept journals or she did from that day forward," I said, looking away as I rubbed the back of my head as my mother's eyes shot towards me. "They're up in the attic if you want to read them. I couldn't, seemed like a violation of her life," I shrugged. "The boxes that are beside the wooden chest are the ones you want."

"Jacob!" I heard her hurriedly say as I turned around. I stood frozen, my arms pressed against my body as Pauline hugged me very hard and tightly. "I promise I'll make sure they're taken care of," she whispered into my neck. "Thank you, for today." My eyes quickly glanced at her as her lips brushed against my ear. "Goodnight Jacob, my son."
​