My Sister's Keeper

STORY IS NOT COMPLETE AS OF 10/25/10

The sound of the eighteen wheelers racing along the interstate in the distance made a pleasant backdrop to the cricket and frog symphony from down by the creek, but the young man couldn't enjoy it. He stopped pacing the confines of the porch as a car topped the rise and turned toward his house.

"Is it Casey?" he thought, the words pounding through his head like a chant.

"Hey, Royce," his friend, Father Anthony Carrera called as he slowed the car to a crawl and rolled by in front of the Victorian farm house, "You're in early tonight, Beauvais."

Disappointed, Royce waved, even though the car had passed the point where the wave would be seen.

Waiting, too wound up to do more than pace, he forced himself to stand still and listen to the night sounds of Beauvais Landing, Missouri. Cars leaving the dance down at the VFW, their car horns beeping in small town farewell, dogs barking in the distance, and the bells of St. Joseph's chiming two o'clock.

"Where is she?" he whispered.

The morning was cool for June, fragrant with the threat of rain, fresh cut grass, and his late step-mother's beloved lilacs. He would have stood there all night with his stomach in painful knots, if need be, but the next car over the rise was his battered, baby-blue Impala. It chugged, slowly, into the yard, stopping diagonally across the drive-way, as the drivers door flew open before the car rolled to a complete stop. Casey leaped, rolling from under the wheel, lurched several steps, doubled over at the waist and threw up into the bushes at the side of the porch.

"Where have you been?" Royce demanded, bolting from the shadowed overhang of the deep portico, "You're late, again." The teen jumped at the sound of his voice, covering her mouth as she whirled to face him.

"Don't you ever hear anything I say to you?" He asked, his voice wicked hard.

"Everyone on the block can hear you." She complained, wobbling with her effort to stand upright. She struggled, but pulled herself up to her full five feet height.

"I'm eighteen," she informed him proudly, "I do not need or want a watch dog!"

"You are seventeen for another month, Casey Marie Temple, and what you need is turned over my knee and spanked!" her step-brother exclaimed, exasperated because, as always, his anger evaporated like morning fog on the creek in her presence.

Casey marched away, regally, unsteady on her cork wedge heals, and Royce stepped out of her way, forcing himself not to reach out and help her in her effort to wobble by.  He stood there in the yard beside the idling muscle car's open door and watched as she staggered up the walk in her under-wear short, Daisy Duke jeans, hot pink bra/swimsuit top covered tightly by a gauzy white top, with her riot of creamy, red-gold curls swimming un-kept around her head and wondered where the happy, gentle child that he knew how to deal with had gone.

Frowning, he watched as she reached the top porch step where she paused, one foot on the top step, looking back at him over her shoulder. Posing, he thought, as he raked his gaze up from her saucy, hot pink painted toes.

"Do I really look like a child to you?" she asked, kneading her full lower lip between her even, white teeth.

He jerked his gaze to her face as she turned with a flip of her hair, flounced into the house and snapped the screen door closed with a sound as sharp as a gunshot in the sudden, utter silence of the night.

Royce sighed, a defeated, confused exhalation, and ran his hands through his hair, linking his fingers behind his head, thinking of the long three months since she had refused to return to the convent school. "I need help." He thought.

The spring season had dragged by with excruciating slowness as his sweet little step-sister transformed into the rebellious teen from hell.

Turning off the cars engine, he closed the door, leaving the car parked where it had stopped, and he stood, stunned, in the yard. Her question thundered through his head like the freight trains hurtling loudly through the middle of town. Desire, thick and quick pulsed through him and he hung his head, ashamed, as if caught in the act of unspeakable depravity. At 23 years old he felt like the proverbial dirty old man.

He forced himself to stand by the car as they both cooled in the early morning dew, until long after he heard the slamming of her door and the light shining through her window on the other side of the house was extinguished.

In those long minutes, in the velvet embrace of the perfect night, he decided to introduce Casey to Jerry Black, who was the youngest member of the work crew at Beauvais Construction. Jerry was 19. He had worked with the older, more seasoned crew for a year, since he graduated high school at Delta, and had proven himself many times over to be a reliable, trustworthy employee.Jerry drank sparingly, didn't smoke dope or do drugs, Jerry was the kind of young man who would be good for Casey, Royce thought, and getting Casey a boyfriend seemed like a really good idea at that moment in time.


XXX

"Are you mad at me?" Casey asked as she peeked into the kitchen the next morning.

"No." Royce replied, keeping his eyes on the newspaper in front of him, still unable to shake the crawling, awful feeling he had when watching her drunken performance the night before. "I'm disappointed, Casey. I think you know better than the way you've been acting. What would your mother think?"

Casey's shoulders slumped. "We buried her at Easter, bro. She doesn't think anything."

"Do you believe that?" Royce questioned, his voice a gentle caress.

She shrugged, pouring coffee for herself before refilling his cup. He let it go. They shared the morning paper, in easy silence.

"Would you mind helping me with a Bar-B-Que tonight for the crew?" Royce asked her as they finished their scrambled eggs and toast.

"Sure." she agreed at once. "Whats the occasion?"

"We signed a contract this week to do the remodel of Beauvais Landing Trading Post."

"Oh, my goodness! That's a huge deal!"

"Yeah, it is. We will be working round the clock, literally for the next year so I thought I would do something for the guys before we entrench."

"I'd love to help. We haven't had a party since before the parents died." Casey's face glowed with excitement as she pulled her school notebook over and began to make a grocery list. "I can get the food but you'll have to buy the booze, of course."

"Casey, can I ask you another favor, please?" Royce asked, watching her head bent over her work.

"Sure." she replied with out looking up.

"Will you, please, try to hold the partying down to a bare, manageable minimum until you are 21?" her head snapped up, and she glared at him, he held out his hand to stop her from interrupting, "Wait, please, and let me finish?"

She tossed her Flair pen down in disgust and glowered at him. "You know all the reasons I have to push this issue. The legal drinking age, all the things that can happen to you considering diminished capacity and all that crap, but I wonder if you realize that I can be in really huge legal trouble for failing to control you."

"No one is ever going to control me!" Casey exclaimed, her palms flat on the table and big blue eyes flashing anger.

Royce was the picture of calm, soothing, authority figure as he again held his hands up in front of himself, palms out, as if to say stop. "That's good. That's great, actually, but as your guardian I can be held responsible. What would happen to all of us, not to mention the crew and all their families as well, if I got thrown in jail?"

"They are not going to throw you in jail."

"They could."

"They won't."

"Casey, you don't know that. The busy body biddies could cause us some real trouble. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor is a serious offense and you know they think its inappropriate for us to be living here together in the first place..." Royce let the sentence trail off as he saw understanding seep into his step-sisters face.

“I'll be eighteen in a month.” She told him.

“Which will help the situation immensely.” He stifled a smile, not wanting her to think he was patronizing her.

“Will you help me?” he asked again.

“You know I'd do anything in the world for you, Royce.” She said, looking away, again catching her full lower lip between her teeth.

“Ditto, Rotten.” he made his words light, using her childhood nickname.

XXX


Twenty or so people mingled around the bonfire Royce lit between the garage and Noodle Creek, the small wet weather run off behind their house. His crew and their families wondered easily from the lawn darts set up between their home, the screened summer house where the food was prepared and served and the bonfire. They tapped a keg of Bud Light behind the garage where it sat, supervised by the older party goers, in a galvanized steel tub full of ice. His employee's children ran and screamed darting all over the yard as they played red light-green light, tag, hide-an-go seek and later caught fire flies in the growing dark.

Together the youngest of the group, Jerry and Casey, kept the stereo turn table spinning rock music, the speakers set up on the back porch. They argued, easily, about the merits of  Top 40 verses what Jerry called “real” rock music and just as Royce had thought, seemed to thoroughly enjoy each others company.

Jerry was one of the last to leave that night, driving Mort Paley and Bull Dang home after they had a beer guzzling competition. The drunks were sitting in the bed of Jerry's Chevy, singing “Bye-Bye, Miss American Pie” when Jerry stopped backing up to call to Casey out the window. “Hey. You wanna go to church with me and mom in the morning?”

“I'm Catholic.” Casey replied.

“Fair enough. How about coming for Sunday dinner then?” Jerry countered.

They both looked toward Royce who had paused with a shovel full of dirt over the low burning bonfire. He upended the earth into the fire and pretended not to hear.

“Okay.” Casey agreed, trying to hide her smile by continuing the task of picking up trash and stuffing it in to a bag.

“One o'clock?”

“Okay.”

The drunks in the back of the Chevy ratcheted up the volume on the chorus of the song and Jerry waved as he left. Casey finished her task and joined Royce as he put out the fire.

“So, is it okay with you if I go out with Jerry?” Casey asked as Royce put the shovel away in the garage.

“No.” Royce thought, the beer in his stomach turning uncomfortably. “Sure.” he said out loud, and Casey beamed a smile at him, bussed a quick kiss on his cheek and all but floated into the house.

Jerry picked Casey up after mass, while Father Tony and Royce ate pizza from Ray's of Kelso's and watched baseball. He dropped Casey off at the agreed upon time. The next morning he showed up on the job site early.

“Hey, boss.” Jerry said to Royce, as soon as he stepped into the office “Is it alright with you if I ask Casey out to a movie?”

Royce felt his heart hammer in his temple. “As long as you show her the proper respect for a girl her age, I have no problem with it.” Royce replied, then added, “You know she was in a private, all girls school up until our parents were killed right?”

Jerry looked uncomfortable. “Yes.”

“A convent school?” Royce elaborated.

“That is what I heard.” Jerry said.

“I'm not that much older than you are, Jerry, so I remember all too well being your age. Casey has been sheltered. That makes her a target for certain kinds of boys.”

“Not me, boss. I am not that kind of person.”

“If I thought you were we would be having a totally different kind of conversation. I hope you wont make me sorry I agree to your seeing her.”

Jerry nodded and turned to leave, but faced Royce again. “I like her.” he said, “I'm not taking her out just to get in her pants. I really like her.”

Royce's face turned three shades of crimson. He pointed his finger at Jerry, right in his face. “She's under age, Romeo, leave her pants alone.”

That night, and every night that week leading up to their date, and after, Casey and Jerry tied up the phone line for hours, the phone cord stretched from the wall in the upstairs hall, the old, black, rotor-dial phone sitting in the floor in the open door way so that Casey could lay across her bed while she talked.

Royce walked by the door several times on his way around the house and listened to the happy sound of her voice, the occasional giggling, and he stopped at least once to smile at how happy she sounded. He nodded at himself and thought, at least once, that her mother; his step mother Celia, would be proud of them both.

By Saturday she couldn't talk about anything else except how great Jerry was. Royce listened to her for hours as they cleaned the garage, boxing his father's things to be given to the church for redistribution to the less fortunate parishioners. He had refused to allow them to go out two nights in a row but capitulated to her sweet pleading and allowed Jerry to come over and watch television with them. It established a pattern for the next few weeks and Royce finally felt comfortable enough to arrange his own date.

On Friday's they would go out with their respective dates, on Saturday they would pack their parents belongings, then listen to albums and play cards at night, Jerry, Tony and other friends joining them.

Royce joined  the Busch League and played pool one night a week. Casey got a part time job at the The Rainbow, a drive in diner in nearby Scott City. Jerry bought Casey ear rings engraved with her initials for her birthday. Royce let her have a party which he and his date, a cocktail waitress names Sunshine, only partially supervised.

Royce found his step-mother's diary while cleaning out the last of their things from their bedroom. He almost burned the book, but in the end he hid it away in the window seat beneath their important papers, in a strong box. He was feeling much better about his relationship with his step sister since he had been able to take up an active social life of his own. On the rare occasions that he caught his heart racing, it was easy to set the feelings aside. He told himself that he wasn't so much jealous of Casey and Jerry as he was concerned that they might move too fast, go too far... for her sake, not because he was interested in her.

He did discuss it with his best friend, over Harvey Wallbangers that night at the VFW.

“I'm a nasty, sick old bastard same as my father.” he said to Father Tony Carrera. “How can I be attracted to Casey?”

“Correction.” Tony said, “You would be a sick,  young bastard except for the fact that you've not made any move toward acting on the attraction.”

“It's wrong. I'm too old to be feeling desire for her.” Royce said.

Tony drained a glass and went to the bar for two more. “You are only 5 years older than she is, buddy.
We know what the church has to say on the subject, so we'll skip all of that. She is a gorgeous girl. Your a healthy man, you're not related to her, despite your parent being married to hers.” Tony pointed out, “And I repeat you have not done anything to feel bad about.”

“Tony. The thought of Jerry touching her makes me want to kill him.”

“But you won't. The same way you haven't made any inappropriate gestures to Casey.”

“I thought, I hoped, that having a girl friend would make the feelings go away.”

“It hasn't?” Tony asked.

“No.” Royce answered.

“Do you think your likely to knock her door down and force yourself on her?”

Royce was shocked, and his faced showed his disgust. “Of course not!”

“Then you are doing what's right. Staying away from her in that way.”

Royce sighed. “Yes. Yes, I am and I know I will continue to do so, but I swear Tony, sometimes I catch her looking at me and I feel... think... maybe she feels the attraction too.”

Tony drained that drink and went to the bar for 2 more. As her priest, he couldn't say anything to his friend about that. “We could ask Mrs. Griffith to move in and take over house keeping for you, just to have another person around.”

Royce thought about it, “I could use the help around the house.” he said.

“Mrs. Griffith could use the pay and the place to stay. Her rent is a terrible burdon on the poor old thing. Would you like me to ask her?” Tony offered.

“Yeah, sure, yes, but because we need her at the house, not because I can't control myself.”

“Right. Of course.” Tony assured him.

They walked home, through town to the Old Post Road where Royce went toward his house and Tony went the other way toward the rectory. The heat, even in the middle of the night, was outrageous.

As they parted company Royce asked Tony, “how long has it been since it rained, anyway?”

“Two months, at least.” Tony called back and they parted ways.

The walk sobered Royce up, his body pouring toxic sweat out as if it were the heat of mid day and by the time he topped the hill above the twin farm houses at the curve of the road he was sober again. He frowned, looking at the house's darkened windows and Jerry's Chevy truck in the driveway. His heart and head pounding painfully he rushed down the hill and up to the house.

On the porch he could hear Olivia Newton John singing softly through the open windows and he paused, sucking in deep breaths to calm himself before shoving open the door so hard it bounced off the wall and slammed back into him. In that moment before the door hit him in the face he saw Casey, wedged between Jerry and the back of the couch. One of her legs was thrown over his thigh, her red skirt riding high on her hip, soft candle light bathed her skin in molten gold, and he could not account for the position of any of their four hands.

The door smacked back into him and he stumbled even as the two on the sofa jumped at the sound of the door and there was a second of stunned suilence as Casey met Royce's eyes over Jerry's shoulder. The music changed songs as Royce stumbled, almost losing his balance and Jerry vaulted to his feet.

Royce's first impulse was to smash Jerry's face in, but he was fully clothed, not even a button undone on his shirt, so he hesitated.

“Don't have a heart attack, okay?” Casey yelled at him, sitting up, adjusting her clothes and Royce's thought he might do exactly that as he watched her stuff a white, lacy bra between the seat cushions. Hot color rose in her face like mercury in a thermometer. “We were making out, that's all, just making out!” Casey yelled.

Anger, embarrasment and jealousy coursed through Royce, white-hot and raging. “I'm going to beat the shit out of you, Jerry.” Royce bellowed as Jerry tried to place himself between Royce and Casey, as if to protect her from Royce. The movement reminded Royce of the way his mother had tried to shield his sister from their father's rages, and it stopped him in his tracks.

“I love her. “ Jerry told him. “This isn't me trying to take advantage of her, I swear to you, Royce. I am in love with Casey. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you caught us this way, but it is not what it looks like. We weren't going to go any farther.”
“Get the hell out of my house.” Royce bellowed at the younger man.

“Leave Jerry alone.” Casey screamed, and they were all yelling at once.

Casey urged Jerry out the front door, as Royce retreated from the exit to give him room. Royce was too angry to throw a punch, fearing he might actually kill the kid. “I trusted you with her, you nasty son-of-aboitch.” Royce told him. “I trusted you.”

“I'm sorry.” Jerry kept repeating until Casey shut the door in his face.

“Talk to you t omorrow she told him as the door swung closed. I'll be fine, he's not going to hurt me, but you need to get the hell out of here.”

Royce watched, stupidly as she locked the door and turned to face him.

“N-nothing was going to happen.” she stammered, color still riding high in her face.

Royce crossed to the sofa and yanked her bra out from between the cushions, “Looks like there was plenty happening to me, Casey.” He said, the flimsy bit of lace dangling from his huge hand.

“Don't stand there and act like your not having sex with Sunshine, and Leah and Rory and God knows how many other women.” Casey accused him. “What's the difference?”

“The difference is that I am an adult, casey and the women I sleep with- who are none of your business- are adults.”

“I'm 18 years old. I am not a child.” Casey reminded him, then ruined the effect of the words by stomping one bare foot like a two year old. She edged toward the stairs as if thinking about making a dash for her room and he stepped toward her.

“Your a virgin.” Royce shouted at her, “I mean I think your still a virgin. Your still a virgin, Casey, right?” He stepped toward her and she stepped toward the stairs.

“I... I... well, yeah, I am, but I'm the only virgin left. All of my friends are having sex and Jerry isn't just some guy. He loves me. You heard him. He loves me.”

Pain twisted through Royce's stomach. He didn't know if her revelation made him feel better or worse. “Jerry is your first boy friend, casey, you can't have sex with every guy you date!”

“Why not? Everyone else does!”

“Why not? Why not?” Royce was stunned momentarily stupid. He shook his head, “so you think because all your friends are having casual sex that it is all right. Is that what you think?”

“He loves me.” Casey repeated.

“Your in love with Jerry. That's what your telling me? Your in love with Jerry?”

“W... we... well... “ she stammered, “I don't know. Uhmn, I think so. Maybe.”
“You don't know?” Royce felt like his head might explode. “You were going to lose your virginity on our living room sofa, and you don't know if you are in love with him?”

“I wasn't going to lose my virginity on the living room sofa.” Casey told him. “You are always home at this time. I thought I would hear the Impala. I thought...”

Royce''s mouth fell open and  stepped toward her and she retreated up two of the steps. “You deliberately let me catch you getting it on with Jerry? You were counting on me catching you?”

“No.” Casey replied, as if insulted, going up two more steps. “I was counting on your coming home to stop us from going all the way.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. You were teasing him!” He advanced up one step toward her and she backed up two more.

“Geeze, Royce make up your mind do you want me to fuck Jerry or not?” she quipped.

“Do not use that kind of language to me, Casey Marie. I do not want you to fuck Jerry, but you can not play games with a man that way. What were you thinking?” She retreated and he advanced until they were face to face, the steps they stood on maing up the difference in their heights.

“Did you bother to think what you would do if I were late?” Royce forced the questions out through gritted teeth, “Did you think about how your actions would effect him? Did you think what he will expect the next time your alone? What in the hell were you thinking?”

Casey's eyes filled with tears and she yelled in his face, “I was thinking of you!” The words hit him like a blow and he stepped down a step, away from her, “We were kissing, and it felt good. I closed my eyes and suddenly, out of no where, it wasn't Jerry kissing me, IT WAS YOU.”

She dropped down, as if her legs refused to hold her up, and burst into tears. Royce recoiled as if she had hit him, slumping back against the wall, momentarily struck dumb by her voicing a thoughts that so closely mirrored his own. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the step below the landing where she was sitting, her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging them to her chest.

He reached out his big, rough hand, laying it along side her head at the side of her face over her cheek, unsure how to comfort her, and she turned her tear streaked face into his palm. “Casey.” he said on a sigh, no other words coming to his mind. In other circumstances he might have hugged her, but he couldn't pull her into his embrace. He slid over so that she could rest her head on his shoulder.

“I'm a tramp, right? I mean I like Jerry, but when he touches me...” she sobbed. “I'm a tramp.”

“No, sweetness.” he soothed her. “No. your not. Never that, okay? Look at me.” he coaxed her to face him and looked into her eyes.  “You know that can't ever happen right?”

She shook her head up and down to indicate that she understood. “I'm nothing but a kid to you. I know you don't want me like that.” she said, and he bit the side of his mouth, sharply, so that the pain stopped any reply.

“Hey.” He said, when he could speak, “There is nothing wrong with you, Casey. You hear me? You don't have to have sex with Jerry because he is in love with you. You don't have to have sex because everyone else is doing it. You are reacting like a healthy normal person to another healthy normal person your attracted to. You can't... we can't act on it, for all the obvious reasons, but it does not mean there is anythign wrong with you.”

She didn't speak for a long minute. “Royce?” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“What if I never, ever love any one the way I love you?”

He squeezed his eyes closed. “Then I would be a very lucky man, but belive me, Rotten, never is a really long time.”

Over the top of her head he watched the candles in the living room sending shadows dancing across the old fashioned room and remembered the first time they had met.

Royce brought her a kitten and gave the tabby cat to her when her mother moved into his fathers house. She was 10. She darted around after the cat, laughter lighting up her chubby little face as she squeeled in delight.When the kitten hid under the sofa she begged prettily for him to help her get it out and they were both on the floor on their hands and knees, one on each side of the sofa when he saw his father in the door way, fever bright eyes fixed on the little girl. His father had a sickening smirk on his face that made the 15 year old Royce feel like vomiting.

As the candle guttered out in the living room his thought returned to the present and he felt ashamed. Miserably ashamed.

XXX