Deal is a Deal

I shared a corner of the family table with my sister, like we did for all the holidays. I leaned close to get Celeste's attention and asked, "What's different now?" It was a game we played every holiday.

The light was golden. The glassware gleamed and the silverware shined. Mom fussed over the table, and we all tried to stay out of her way. Kids ran back and forth from their moms' sides to the kid's table in the living room, and laughter carried over it all. That was all normal.

Celeste had freckles on her nose—and everywhere else you could see—and a mop of Mom's curly red hair that brushed my cheek when she answered. She kept her voice low. "Joe's carving the turkey, and Dad's at the table. I don't think that's ever happened before." She glanced at the table again before she went on. "Ashley and Brandon are acting like boring clones of Mom and Dad."

That last bit caught me by surprise, and I watched our older siblings for a moment before I leaned close again. "Maybe we should warn them."

Brandon tipped his chair back and touched Donna's shoulder to get her attention. He raised his voice and pointed to us. "Look at Mark and Celeste. They're hatching plots again."

"Maybe we won't warn them," I said.

We conspired—it was an old story that wouldn't go away, like its twin story that Celeste talked to me in baby code before she learned to speak English. Maybe there was truth in both of those stories—just enough to keep them going.

"You can't prove anything," I said. Joe leaned over Ashley to set the carved carcass in the middle of the table, and the tired stores were lost in noise like Celeste and I both hoped they would be.

Daphne squeezed herself between Donna and Brandon. Jackson tried to get between Joe and Ashley, but Jade pulled him back and took that place. He stood with Mom while we all said grace. We did it once a year. That's what Thanksgiving's for, isn't it?

I had a plate full of turkey and cranberry sauce, green beans, stuffing and sweet potatoes when Donna got Mom's attention. She waved her fork and asked, "Why did you wait so long after Ashley and Brandon to have Mark and Celeste?" I thought that maybe she was thinking of doing the same thing.

Mom put her fork down. "Ashley was, what? About eight—and Brandon was six, and one day they pushed Dad a little too far. He shook his finger at them and told them, 'We made you, and we can make more just like you. Be careful, or we'll give you to the clowns and start over.'"

Dad added his line. "I always said any threat is an empty threat if you can't carry through with it."

"So he did his part," Mom said. "You should've seen Brandon's face when I told him I was pregnant. Then we made Celeste so we'd have a matched set."

There was a squeal from the living room, and cranberry sauce hit the ceiling.

Celeste stacked her silverware on her plate and said, "I'll keep the kids out of trouble." She left with her plate and a glass of water and tried to fit into a little chair at the kid's table with Daphne, Jackson, and Jade.

It didn't take long. My plate was still half full when Celeste let out a whoop. I gathered my setting and got Mom's attention. "I'll keep Celeste out of trouble."

I squeezed my plate onto their table and knelt beside Daphne. We stuck food in each other's water glasses and talked about boogers and Muppets until the pie was sliced, and the kids were banished to the basement.

Celeste nudged me. "Let's wash dishes. Mom can relax."

We worked at the sinks side-by-side. I scraped trash into the garbage and rinsed the dishes, and she fit them into the dishwater. We had fun. Anyone watching might have thought we were flirting, but we had a lot to catch up on.

"I hear you're out of work," I said. "What are you going to do?"

Celeste answered without looking at me. "Yesterday was my last day." She found a big wooden spoon in the sink and gestured with it. "You know I started working for the sandwich shops when I was a sophomore, right? I became like the youngest manager in the whole city.

"They wanted me to take on a second store. It was almost twice the work for not much more money. It made me look into the company a little more. The only way you make much with them is to get into it as an investor, but they don't pay anyone enough to invest.

"I don't want to spend my life living with Mom and Dad, so fuck the sandwich shops. I'm going to the university. I applied when I was in high school, and I just need them to renew my application." She set the spoon aside and fit a serving bowl into the rack. "You still a lab monkey?"

"Teaching robots to crush the human resistance," I said.

"You're not doing your species any favors. When do you graduate?"

I know I rolled my eyes. "From what? I have three semesters left for my bachelor's degree, but that's only good for tech jobs. I want to get on a professional track and that means getting a master's and maybe more."

Celeste counted aloud and said, "I could be done the same time you are."

She stepped back and shifted a bowl and a glass to get more room, and she asked "What do I get somebody who doesn't do anything?"

I started handing her plates, one at a time. "Are you talking about your boyfriend?"

She racked one plate and then another, "Travis. yeah."

"Isn't Travis a gamer? Just get him gaming stuff." I took a guess at where she was going. "You want to get him to do something."

"Yeah, something good for, you know, us. That's not gaming."

"Maybe you should talk to Ashley, or Mom. I mean, you could get him running shoes, but you don't run, do you? A tennis racket? But you don't play. What do you want him to do?"

Celeste stopped taking plates. "Do you have anything smaller?" so I handed her the butter dish, and she fit it in. "Taking showers more often would be great."

I started stacking stuff in the sink because Celeste wasn't taking them. "You talk about your boyfriend like that?"

Celeste bumped me with her hip. "We could talk about your girlfriend if you had one. Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

"I have like three girlfriends," I said. "Sort of. But you know, they're mostly friends unless I can talk them into sex." I counted on my fingers. "Holly is fun. Ann is easier, but sometimes we don't connect. Claudia's busy, but I'll take any chance I can get with her."

"I should be talking to Mom and Ashley. You're a slut."

"Things are piling up," The sink was almost full. "You're slow."

"Eat me," she said, then covered her mouth with the back of her hand. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

I took a little step back and checked out my sister. I put on a show that made her eyes roll. "Could be tasty," I said. "Make it mutual, and it's a deal."

"Don't be gross, Mark." She slugged my arm. Her knuckles bruised deep and dishwater splattered into my eyes.

I stepped back blinking and rubbing the bruise, and I looked at the dishwasher. She stopped because it was full. "Close it up. We can do the rest later. Football's on."

I took the last slice of pie out of the fridge while Celeste drained the orange juice into a glass, and I stopped to watch the scene in front of the television.

It was second and ten, and Detroit was going in from the fifteen-yard line. Dad was nodding off with Jackson asleep against his arm and Brandon argued with Joe about the next play.

Celeste carried her glass in one hand, but her attention was on the cellphone in her other hand when she bumped into me. She tried not to spill the juice, looked at the room, and asked, "This is what you want to do?"

"What else?" I shrugged and started for the sofa, but thunder on the stairs from the basement made me stop. Jade was a little breathless when she tugged on my arm. "Mom said to get you. Muppets are on!"

I love Muppets. Celeste followed us and stayed quiet at the end of the couch with her juice and her phone. I watched Muppets and snuggled kids until Donna and Ashley sent them to find their dads.

The women stayed in the kitchen to finish the dishes and plan their Black Friday schedule. I found Dad and promised him a day, and I waited for my sister in the shadows at the top of the stairs.

Celeste glanced up at me and climbed the stairs slowly. "It's going to be an early morning," she said, and sat down beside me. "Are you coming with us?"

"Oh God, no. I'm going with Dad to look at trucks. Have you figured out what you're getting Travis?"

"That's what you waited here for? To find out what I'm getting my boyfriend? The suspense must have been killing you."

"I waited here because you seem down. You're getting shopping therapy in the morning, so maybe I shouldn't worry."

Celeste wrapped her hands around my arm and leaned close. It was cool on the landing, so her warmth felt good. "I'm not down. I was just thinking about stuff."

I put my arm around her. "Good stuff?"

"Travis stuff," she said. There was hardly a pause. "Why don't you pick one—Ann or Holly or Claudia—and stay with her?"

"How did you remember their names? I don't think that's what any of them want. They want comfortable sex without commitment."

"Maybe that's the way I should go."

"Giving up on Travis?"

"He's distracted, 'we' aren't working out, and I'm tired of him blaming me for everything."

"Plenty of fish in the sea," I said.

Celeste clenched her jaw for a moment, then relaxed and said. "Not if I listen to Travis. He says I'm plain and not very smart. I'm not 'passionate.' I'm lucky to have him."

I nudged her and said, "Hey, I could give you a second opinion…" I thought I was joking, but maybe I wasn't.

"Eew." She tensed and pushed herself away.

"Kidding," I said, "but that doesn't sound right to me. I'm starting to wonder. Aren't you?"

"Not about anything you could tell me." I knew the look she gave me. Even in the darkness on that landing I could tell that I'd tickled her curiosity.

I squeezed Celeste's shoulder and slipped my hand under her wild hair to cup the back of her neck. She shook her hair out. It was, I think, to relax her neck and shoulders more than anything. I was ready to let her push away, but she looked up, close by my side. I watched her eyes and bent down until my nose touched hers. She tipped her head to the side and our lips touched.

Celeste's lips parted, and my muscles tensed when I found her tongue waiting for mine. I was nervous. She was nervous. I hesitated, and I felt a catch in her breath. There was that instant when we could have changed our minds, but it was there and gone.

I'd never tasted Celeste's mouth before. I was surprised at first that she wasn't stinky and awful. She relaxed into my arms, and we explored each other carefully, curiously. Her tongue was soft. Her mouth welcomed me, and her breath was warm on my cheek.

I pulled her tighter and she laid her arm over my shoulder. Our curiosity melted the nervous tension we started with, and then it was the excitement that tightened our bodies. I held her closer, and her fingers clutched at my back. She writhed slowly against me. I could hardly breathe.

Celeste turned her head to break our kiss and said "Gross, Mark!" into the shadows over my shoulder. My first reaction was to hold her tighter, but then I let her go. She pushed herself up, climbed over me, and darted for her bedroom.

I twisted around to watch her door close behind her, then collapsed on my back and said, loud enough for her to hear through her door, "Tell Travis he's full of shit." I wiped the slobber from my mouth and cheek with the back of my hand and caught my breath before I pulled myself up and went to my room.

We had a bathroom with pocket doors that opened to both bedrooms. I don't know who ever thought that was a good idea. I got to the bathroom first and fell asleep listening to Celeste getting ready for bed, and I woke again in the morning when she turned the shower on.

Dad's plans didn't start until later, so I slept in, and I didn't see Celeste until the shoppers got home. I left Dad with the TV and helped carry the Christmas goodies—toys, mostly—in from the car, and I retreated to the kitchen while they sorted it.

Donna and Ashley were gone when Celeste found me making a turkey sandwich in the kitchen. "That looks good," she said. "I was late getting up. Coffee and a Cinnabon are all I've had to eat."

"Take it," I said, and started another while she leaned against the counter beside me and wolfed the sandwich down. I asked without looking up, "How was the mall?"

She had a dab of mayonnaise on her finger, and she wiped it on her jeans. She answered with her mouth still full. "Not crazy like it used to be, but Mom has to do it. I think it's a social thing.

"I saw Dad's shiny new truck on the driveway. Is that what you did today?"

I closed up my sandwich and leaned against the counter with Celeste. "Found it, bought it, drove it home. The whole thing took like three hours."

All my senses were on alert. I watched my sister move, and watched the light in her hazel eyes. I listened for the intonations in her voice that maybe only I could understand.

"Move your big butt," she said, and shoved me to get to the trash bin. There was no sign from Celeste that last night was too much, or that today was different from yesterday.

She slid the turkey into the fridge, found a place on the door for the mustard, and said, "The kids and all are coming back for dinner." She stopped and waited until my eyes met hers. I was caught. I'd been watching the shape of her body the whole time.

"It'll be a get-your-own-snack night instead of dinner." She stood back to close the fridge and let me get the whole picture. "It won't go late. We're all a little tired." She slid her phone from her back pocket, checked her messages, and ran the stairs to her room.

No-one told the kids it would be a quiet night. They roughhoused around us while we watched TV and while Celeste helped Mom in the kitchen. Daphne climbed on my lap to get away from her cousins, and from then on it was all my fault.

I held Daphne's hands and gave her a horsey ride on my knee. I told her, "This is how the farmer rides. Clip-clop, clip-clop," and I bounced her slowly.

"This is how the gentleman rides, Clippity-clop, clippity-clop," and I bounced her a little faster.

"This is how the cowboy rides." I bounced her high until she fell over on my chest, giggling out of control.

Jackson took a turn and then Jade, and I found out that Jade was ticklish. I pinned her in the corner of the sofa and tormented her until Jackson got jealous. Jade squirm away while he pounded me with a sofa pillow, and they ganged up on me. If I took one pillow away, then they found another.

Where were their parents in all of that?

I found Daphne again, and pulled her onto the sofa. I put my hand up to stop Jackson and Jade. "Don't beat on your cousin," I said, but that only gave them time to catch their breath before they started again. I had to protect Daphne, who kicked and squealed.

Celeste's voice cut through the noise from behind me. "I'll save you!" she said. It took me a second to realize that she wasn't talking to me.

My sister had experience. It was totally not fair. She wrapped a dish towel around my neck and jerked my head back. That let Daphne get away, and Jackson jumped on my lap and started pounding on my gut.

"That's it! I'm out." I pushed Jackson aside so he tumbled off onto the cushion, and I reached back for any part of Celeste I could get hold of. First I had her hand, and then her forearm, and she squawked when I pulled her over the back of the sofa. I took her elbow to my face as she tumbled onto the sofa cushion, and she thudded to the floor in front of me.

"Enough," Joe said, and that ended it all. He passed Jade off to Ashley and pulled Jackson off the sofa. Brandon picked up Daphne, and Donna got her to stop giggling.

Celeste sorted herself out and sat up on the floor beside the sofa. "I meant to do that," she said.

I rubbed my cheek then leaned down and asked her, "Are you OK?"

"I'll get you for that," she said, and slugged my shoulder.

I flopped back on the sofa and caught my breath while the kids put on jackets and sweaters. They all mad plans for tomorrow, and the house was quiet again when Mom closed the door behind them.

Celeste climbed up from the floor. She picked up the sofa pillows and tossed them back in place, and when Mom turned her back she shouted, "Die you shit!" and tried to smother me with the last pillow.

I wrestled with my sister until I could roll her onto the sofa, and I yanked the pillow out of her hands. I scanned her whole, slightly sweaty body sprawled beside me, and Mom—like she'd seen it all before—said "Turn the fireplace off before you go."

Celeste craned her head around to look at Mom and said, "OK. First I need to talk to Mark." She stood up and straightened herself while Mom turned down the lights.

"We need to talk?" I asked.

"I need to talk," she said. "Not sure about you." She sat beside me with her feet tucked up beside her, and she leaned on my shoulder. Her breath warmed my ear, and her body warmed my side.

"I talked to Mom and Ashley when we were at the mall, and they thought I should get Travis a Christmas present to help mend our relationship, so I did. Then I talked to Travis this afternoon. He told me more of his same old crap, so I told him he was full of shit. So where am I now?"

"Five minutes ago you were trying to kill me, and now you want to talk about your relationship." I said. "This can't be good."

"And you didn't die, so now I want you to think like Travis," Celeste says. "Tell me what he wants."

I'd never seen my sister question herself so much, and I thought out loud. "I've seen some guys do this thing to their girlfriends. They tear them down until they feel like they aren't as good as he is, and they end up thinking they're lucky to have him."

Celeste looked down and worked her hand under my shirt. She touched my skin before she looked up, and she said, "Something in me thinks 'but what if he's right?'"

"That means he's winning," Celeste slipped her hand up under my shirt. I didn't stop her, but I asked "Why are you doing that?"

"My hand's cold. You feel good," Celeste's eyes flitted around my face. "And I like it when you look at me. I mean, it's creepy, but… "

I finished her sentence my way. "Maybe we're both a little creepy." She didn't correct me.

Something about Celeste's scent drew me like a magnet. It bypassed my brain and went straight to my muscles. I pulled her closer, and I cupped my sister's breast in my hand.

"Don't," she said. She squirmed and pushed my hand away.

"You can feel me up, but I can't feel you?"

She pulled her hand back and smoothed my shirt. "You don't touch your sister's tits. They're sensitive, and your chest is just your chest." She looked away and talked without looking at me. "If I go for your head-for-head trade, then you'll get my tits on the way down."

I stopped myself from saying "That was a joke." She knew it was a joke. Either Celeste was teasing me, or she was fishing for a reaction. I took the bait, maybe just to see what she'd do.

"I have to leave early on Sunday, If we don't do it now, then tomorrow's the last chance."

Celeste wrinkled her nose at me. "Gross, Mark." She didn't say 'never,' she said, "I'll let you know."

I tossed on my bed after that, and maybe Celeste did too. She looked tired when we shared our corner at the breakfast table. She nibbled on a piece of toast while I drained the sweet milk from the bottom of my cereal bowl.

"The moms are taking the kids to The Polar Express this afternoon," she said. "I'll help them out if I don't find something better to do. What are you doing?"