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IT WAS A RARE SATURDAY that Michael wasn’t back on the airfield. I still couldn’t believe Marceau had bought him another plane, and a better one at that. Michael took up giving lessons in it, to pay back the co-op for the one he’d crashed. I’d taken to going with him to the airfield most days, and reclining in the hanger when he went out with students. Jack and Roy, the two old veterans that owned the airfield, taught me how to play poker, blackjack, and Texas hold ‘em. I liked spending time with them because I didn’t have to think about anything else. I didn’t have to worry about how Michael looked at me, with those big brown puppy eyes. How could he love me? It was so wrong. It could never be.
But we grew so close that he was the only one I wanted to spend time with. My father finished his latest novel and was doing a national tour. Michael and I found ourselves alone often.
My second term started in college, and I sat through writing, struggled through math, and absolutely adored speech.
“Do you need any help that?” Michael said one night when I poured over a confusing math assignment.
“I’m starting to think I’m too dumb for trigonometry,” I said, throwing my pencil down.
“Let me take a look. Math was my thing in school.”
“I should hope so, for a pilot!” I laughed.
He just started me, frozen with my pencil in his hand. “Did you just laugh?”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe.”
“Well, keep doing it.”
The term continued into the month of May, and Michael cooked dinner every night or brought something home. On the weekends, when my homework was done, I was always out at the airfield with him. Michael taught me how to check the oil on the plane; we washed the plane once a week and even changed the brakes out. He called her Margaret, a fitting name for a blue striped beauty of a plane. I didn’t dare tell him it was the English version of my middle name, Marguerite, but it made me smile.
In a way, it became our special time together. Even after the accident, we still found time to fly. Soaring above the coast, seeing the waves and the tiny specks of people was so freeing. I forced myself not to think about Jon when I was up there. It was only Michael and I. I knew he didn’t deserve to see my crying all the time.
His nightmares eventually subsided; I think taking Margaret out for a spin that first time really was healing. But some nights were still so bad. I still crept into his room and sat with him, because it was the least I could do. I knew he loved me, but I couldn’t return it. He was my cousin, after all. But he was the thread that was stitching my heart back together.
Little by little, he made my life better. I couldn’t imagine it without him. He was my best friend.
Since he was out at the airfield as much as he could to pay off his debt for Agnes, I was used to him being gone. My days were filled with classes, nights with homework. I still went to the airfield often to keep him company when he didn’t have students.
The weather changed again, and spring erupted everywhere. The weather was warm with no warning, the sun shining brightly and beckoning us outside. My father tried to get us to go to the beach, but I refused. After my episode on the anniversary of Jon’s death, I was afraid. Afraid it would bring back all those memories of how much I loved him. I clung to them; they were my lifeline. Forgetting him was a betrayal.
I was surprised to find Michael home one Saturday, near the beginning of June, when the pink blossoms were in full bloom outside my window. Michael had no clients that day, and I had a lot of free time. My father suggested we go to the beach later, and I agreed. I thought it would healing in a way, maybe as good as our flights were. I hadn’t had a nightmare in a while, and the therapy sessions were finally helping. I was doing my best to remember Jon in the best way possible.
On that particular Saturday, I woke to find the curtains thrown back and a green vase on the windowsill. The sun refracted green prisms of light around the white walls and held pink apple blossoms, yellow tulips, and a few dandelions. I smiled because I knew it was Michael. My father had always brought me roses and tiger lilies because he knew they were my favorite. In a more personal gesture, Michael always picked blooms from the front lawn. I pushed out of bed. Something felt different. I glanced over at the flowers, and my heart swelled. Oh no, I said to myself. Don’t you dare, Elise! I checked my thoughts. Jon was still there. His smile that touched his eyes behind his glasses. His soft touch, and his lighthearted laugh. And something happened: I smiled. For the first time in six months, I didn’t cry. My thoughts of Jon weren’t happy, not yet, but they were fond, and that made me feel better.
I went to find Michael to tell him.
I knocked on Michael’s open door, and he beckoned me in. I saw on the edge of the bed beside him, where he was playing some racing game. He was used to me wandering around sometimes, sitting next to him in silence, and then wandering away. I knew it bothered him, I could see it in his eyes, but he never asked. He left me to my silence, and I was grateful for it, until today.
This time, I was fascinated by the sleek yellow car on the screen. It careened around corners, nearly toppling, and raced over ramps, flying high into the air. He leaned forward as his car picked up speed, and leaned back as it caught air. For the first time in months, this actually made me smile.
His eyes widened, and his brows arched. The pause screen lit the TV, with columns of options. He swiveled to face me. “Elise, did you just giggle?”
“Did I?”
“You’re smiling!”
“Am I?” I did giggle, then.
“What is so funny, young lady?”
“You,” I said, and another laugh escaped, “leaning forward and back, as if the controller responds to it!”
“Do you ... want to play?”
I’d been wrapped up in studies, books, and papers in the last few weeks, and I hadn’t had time to do much else. “Sure.”
He handed me the controller, and I frowned. It was heavier than I thought, with gray joysticks and colored buttons. “What do I press?”
“Well ya gotta hold it right, for one thing,” he said, grabbing my hand, and placing it over one of the joysticks, “not like a girl.”
“What!” I protested as he moved my fingers across the opposite joystick.
“Well, it’s made for a guy’s hand, but I guess you’ll get the hang of it.” His smile was wide when he saw the smile on my face. His hand was warm he pushed my thumb over one of the buttons. “This accelerates, brake, and slide.” His hand closed over the joystick. “This is steering, and this...” he stroked my right forefinger, “is the camera view.”
The game started, and within a few seconds, my car tumbled in a ball of fiery flame. The next round, I finished dead last, but at least I didn’t explode.
Michael was laughing hysterically, with his hand over his flat stomach. “Well, you have some talent, there,” he said, out of breath. His laugh was contagious, and I laughed with him. At first, it hurt, because it had been so long. But then it felt good. We collapsed backward on the bed, laughing at our exploding video game cars.
He leaned in closer, so close I could smell aftershave, motor oil from his plane, and a bit of cinnamon from the gum he always chewed.
It was intoxicating.
No! My brain screamed at me. I looked at him, and I saw Jon, but I blinked it away. My smile disappeared.
He sat up and handed me the controller again, moving my hands again to different buttons and said, “Maybe we can try the easy setting?”
His leg was still touching mine, and his hand lingered too long.
I felt warmth rising below my waist, and I could feel myself biting my lip, just as I had with Jon. Jon loved it when I bit my lip. I politely handed Michael the controller. “I’m not a fan of racing games, anyway,” I mumbled.
I pushed myself off the bed but felt his warm grasp on my wrist pull me back.
“Don’t go,” he said. “I like it when you watch.”
He must have noticed the shock on my face when he quickly added: “You. Er, you watching me. Play video games that is...”
His face was so smooth and round, with dusty blond locks that fell across his eyes. Over the last few minutes he had grown a beard, but kept it trim and need. Even I had to admit he looked dashing. He brown eyes seemed lighter today, almost a greenish-blue hue. They weren’t the blue that ran in my family. They were dark and full of mystery, but not the dusty deep blue like Jon’s. The longer I stared, the more they began to deepen.
I thought about the flowers in my window. They opened up to the sun, and the sun set them free.
I took the controller and tossed it behind him, and slid into his lap. I pressed my lips to his.
He deepened the forbidden kiss, pulling me closer, so I straddled him. He fell backward on the bed, my mouth pressed hard against his. My hips moved against him, and I could feel his hard response beneath me. I remembered walking in on him and Jamie in the bathroom, and if that was any indication of what awaited me, well...
Stop, a voice screamed in my head. You can’t do this. He’s your...
Just one kiss was my answer. Just one. Just make me feel alive again, Michael.
Nothing ever ends with one kiss, only begins.
“Elise,” he murmured, his hands making a weak attempt to push at my shoulders, but they fell away. “Elise, we can’t. It’s too soon.”
“Stop, please, I can’t...” I was breathless. I allowed him to push me up, where I slipped off my t-shirt, revealing pink satin I knew he couldn’t resist. Touch me, make me feel whole again, I silently begged. I stood, slipped off my shorts and wriggled out of my bra. I stood naked in front of him.
I could hear his breath catch in his throat. “Please,” I said again. He stood, and his hands reached up to my waist, and I closed my eyes at his touch. Jon had touched me there. Make me bloom, I silently begged. I’d been in the darkness for too long.
I let his hands roam my body. He caressed my taunt nipples, my smooth buttocks. I undid the button of his shorts, fearful he would resist. He didn’t. They fell to the floor, and his hardness sprang to meet me.
I stepped back and fell onto the bed, dragging him with me. “Make love to me, please.”
He didn’t waste any time, straddling me and covering my neck and shoulder with kisses. I moaned and arched my back, clasping my eyes shut, as he entered me so slowly. When I opened them, he was there.
Jon.
His hair was falling around his glasses, in his eyes. His eyes weren’t Michael’s dark ones anymore; they were Jon’s soft blue. He was moving slowly, gently, inside me, just as he always had.
“Make me see the stars,” I begged. Tears ran from the corner of my eyes.
He quickened his pace, and his mouth found mine. “Elise,” he whispered. “I love you.”
“Jon,” I whispered softly, “Please don’t leave me.”
He was going faster now, gripped in the pace of his release. I opened my eyes and a scream caught in my throat. Half of his head was gone, replaced by blood gray matter, his glasses broken and hanging crookedly on his face. The skin on his face was rotted and falling off.
“What’s the matter? You wanted Jon, didn’t you?” The parched lips bent closer to mine, and I started screaming.
“Elise?” my father called from upstairs. The front door shut softly, with a bang from the screen door.
“Elise, are you okay?”
The gruesome face was inches from mine, and it kept asking me if I was okay. I kept screaming. This thing, this corpse, was buried inside me, frozen stiff.
“Michael? Where are you guys?” His footfalls were heavy on the stairs.
Michael jerked out of me then, and my screams subsided. “Oh shit,” I said again, blinking. My lips moved, but nothing else would come out. “Michael? What’s... what’s going on?” Only eight stairs separated our naked bodies from my father, Michael’s uncle.
Michael was frantic. He struggled into his pants and flipped on the TV. He kicked my clothes under the bed, and threw a blanket at me, urging me to cover up. “We’re down here, playing Lambo Racing 3, Uncle,” he called.
We could hear the footfalls on the stairs. Michael waved his hand, motioning me to hurry.
I had just slipped under the covers when Dad pocked his head in the room, with a clipped knock on the door.
“How’s my favorite daughter and nephew?” he smiled.
Michael wouldn’t even look at me, but put on his best face. “We were playing a game, but Elise had a flashback, and felt like she was going to pass out again. I tucked her under the covers, just to be safe.”
My father looked concerned and crossed to the side of the bed. I closed my eyes, hoping he would think I really had fainted. He put the back of his hand on my forehead, and then looked at Michael. “I guess the beach it out of the question, then.”
Michael’s eyes were wide, and he looked down, then back at me.
The strap of my pink bra was sticking out from under the bed.
Michael kicked his back leg, shoving the bra out of sight.
“Should we cancel the beach?” Dad repeated. “How are you feeling, Elise?”
“No,” I said, trying to sound groggy, because I really did want out of this house, away from this temptation. But the throbbing below my waist betrayed me.
I clutched the blanket around me, pretending to be sleeping. “Wait, I did put the stuff together, it’s on the landing if you want to load the car. I’ll be fine. The ocean air will do me good.”
Michael set the controller down and flipped off the TV. His hands were still shaking, and he shoved them into the pockets of his jean shorts. “Yeah, I’ll get the towels.” He followed my dad out of the room, leaving me lying naked in the bed, the quilted comforter pulled up to my chin.
The bed where we had just shared forbidden love.
Below my waist was throbbing, aching; the residual effects of what we had just done ebbing away slowly. My heart thudded in my chest, as I took a few deep breaths. Tears seeped to the corners of my eyes, as I tried to make the horrible vision go away. This was so wrong. I missed Jon so much; I just wanted to feel close to someone again. But my cousin? God, what was wrong with me. I was some kind of deviant, I was a horrible person.
And so was he. He was just as guilty as I. What were we going to do?
I turned my head and sobbed into Michael’s pillow. My grief for Jon had led me to the unthinkable, and I couldn’t get the image out of my head. Would anything be normal ever again?