The Misbegotten

Twenty minutes later, the electric stove and I were cranking out a mean meal of bacon and eggs. The toaster was working on four slices of whole wheat bread and the coffee-maker had just finished brewing some gourmet Jamaican blend.

Katie came down the stairs, her hair wrapped up in a towel. Her clothes splotched here and there with droplets of water as if she had dried off in a hurry and hadn’t given two shits about getting them wet. She was wearing a simple t-shirt and tight jeans that clung to her figure as if painted on. Her feet were bare.

“Oh my god, Estefan, that smells so fucking good!” she complimented me vociferously. She made her way through the portal leading to the kitchen, coming up to me from behind. She gave me a tight hug, her arm wrapping around the center part of my body. This left my hands free to continue preparing our breakfast.

“You’re spoiling me again,” she said at my neck, her warm breath tickling its’ nape.

Out of habit, the lower portions of my gut shuddered with pleasure. Katie was always so good at getting a rise out of me.

“And I love it!” she squealed and broke contact with my body. She made her way over to the breakfast nook, standing a few feet from the stove.

“Anything for you, my dear,” I joked, winking at her with an exaggerated leer.

She laughed, more for the effort.

I continued to flip and turn the food before me.

“Where did you learn to cook, Eff?” she asked after a time, a thoughtful look on her face.

I glanced over at her, spatula in hand. “Well, before my mom met my step-dad, things around her were pretty rough. My real dad was always harassing my mom, causing problems. He stalked her, called her at all times of the night. I could see, even when I was small, she was always looking over her shoulder. She was nervous every time the phone would ring. You know what I mean?”

Katie nodded, her eyes having gone wider than before. Maybe she hadn’t heard these stories before… And there I thought everyone knew.

“This used to wear my mom down sometimes. She would just get a little depressed and would stay in bed late on the weekends to recharge. So one day I got it my head to make breakfast for her in bed, which I totally fucked up.” I grinned at the memory. “I made a huge mess, Kat. But she was such a good sport, because all she kept doing was thanking me over and over. She made this like real big deal out of it. I was so proud of myself.

“I vowed then I was going to learn how to cook. This was I could surprise her every once and a while without making the kitchen look like World War III. Ever since then, I sort of shadowed my mom around whenever she was cooking. Over time, I learned.” My eyes found hers. “I am best at breakfasts.”

“A man of many talents,” she purred, looking through her eyelashes at me.

I turned to meet her eyes. “You got that right, baby doll, and most of them have nothing to do with the kitchen. Although, some girls have said I was cookin’,” I countered raising my eyebrows a few times in rapid succession.

That made her guffaw, mouth open and loud. She tilted her head upward as she brought her hand to her chest. She worked the mirth through her petite frame.

“Y-you got m-me with that one, Estefan. But, I must admit, I have seen what you’re giving to them, so I can see why they might’ve side you’re cookin’. Shit, stretching out a girl’s pussy with that dick of yours would curl any girl’s toes.”

She was being playful, but the idea she’d brought up that particular detail caught my attention. She had after all put her hand around my stiff cock the summer before. My teenage mind focused on other things, things I’d been trying to suppress. I swung back to face the stove, unwilling to show her the blush spreading across my face.

Once again, I saw it. Her mouth was opening, her tongue passing her lips as she bent down further to take the tip of me within her…

“Hey, what’s this?” she blurted abruptly, which - thank god - brought me from memories of the oral sort.

I twisted to see what she was talking about and realized she had a wad of twenty-dollar bills in her hands.

Jesus Christ, mom, how much fucking money do you think we need for one pizza?!?

“Oh, my parents left that for us to order something for lunch.”

She began to count it as I was answering her.

“Lunch? Really, this is like $380.00! What did she think we were going to order, a buffet?”

“I guess so,” was all I said. I began serving our food on two large plates. Katie remained silent as I finished and brought them to the nook. I poured our coffee and began preparing it, knowing Katie like her java the same way I did, real sweet and black.

From behind, she asked in a small voice, “You think we might be able to score some bud. I mean just like a dime or something, you know something to take the edge off?”

I stopped short, giving her a level stare, each hand clutching a mug of Jamaican brew. “Do you think that is a good idea? I mean, after all the shit you’ve just gone through?” I didn’t need to mention her involvement in a felony had most likely been drug induced.

She returned my stare, crossing her arms about herself. Her whole body assumed a defensive posture. “Don’t go there, Eff,” she said, stern, direct. She wasn’t angry per se, but seemed poised to be at a moment’s notice.

“Well, Kat, I think I’m going to have too, because I’m responsible for you while you’re here –.”

She was about to interrupt me.

I forestalled her. “–And, I cannot have anything bad happen to you when I’m the one who’s supposed to be making sure you’re safe.”

Her eyes turned accusatory. “So, you are my jailor, huh?” She said it with about as much disdain as she could muster.

“Hey,” I began, placing the mugs down next to our respective plates of food. “I didn’t ask for the job, girlie. My mom, and most likely your mom as well, placed you in my charge. I took the reins, because I knew it would give me the opportunity to spend a great deal of time with you. You know how much I like hanging out with you.” I sat down next to her, her expression didn’t change.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that, but fuck, Eff, I don’t need someone looking over my shoulder, watching every move I make.” The words gushed from her, exasperation thickened the air about us.

“No, you don’t need that. I know that too. I’m not stupid, Katie. I do know you pretty well. But, I also know what you went through over the past week was some tough shit. I think you should just take some time to clear your mind before you go clouding it up with drugs,” I explained. My tone was even, but peppered with a degree of finality as well.

“Not drugs, Eff, I just want a little marijuana just in case things… things get… well like last night. Do you want me hanging all over you every night crying myself to sleep?” She was trying to steel her resolve, but I could already see cracks.

I bent down to peer right into her eyes. “Katie, I would have you cry yourself to sleep in my arms any day of the week for as long as you need. Waking up with you in my arms was very nice… to say the least,” I mumbled the last part. I knew she heard it though.

A silence grew.

“Son of a bitch!” she exclaimed. Was she mad now? “How is it that you can do that to me and make me believe without even trying hard?”

“Do what?!?” I echoed her yell.

“Make me feel so good inside, even when I feel like shit, Estefan. That’s what!” She was still shouting which made my eyes widen a bit.

“…And that’s a bad thing?” I implored, my face pinched with a quizzical cast.

“Yes, it is when I am trying to be God damned mad at you!” she replied, louder than before. Her face was edging ever closer to a smile. She was trying to fight it with every ounce of will.

I chuckled, taking a sip of coffee, which tasted wonderful. “Well, it’s all true,” I offered.

“I know it’s true. That’s why you’re such fucking pain in the ass,” she clarified. She too took a sip of her hot beverage. The coffee appeared to change her entire mood. “Damn, you make a good cup, Eff.”

“Thank you, my dear,” I answered in my best “butler”-like voice. We both edged around to face our food and dug in with gusto.

We ate in silence for a few minutes.

I mulled over our conversation, sympathizing with what Katie had to say. But, at the same time, I just couldn’t agree with any instance where my lack of judgment might get her into trouble, or, god forbid, hurt. I couldn’t abide seeing that. The thought of her injured in any way made me cringe. It was better that we were both safe, nestled inside my parent’s house, eating breakfast, hidden from the world. It was, after all, a pretty nasty world, and had only gotten worse in the past year.

No, I couldn’t afford for her to get out of control and do something crazy. That was what she was most prone to do when she got fucked up. She always did stupid things at the drop of hat when she was too deep in her cups or blitzed in a quagmire of drugs. Some of those things had been dangerous.

She needed a clean break more than anything. She needed a place where she could let her feet touch the ground, where the world wasn’t going to turn upside down on her. She needed to be herself and not have to hide behind all the defenses she’d built up over the years.

My parent’s house, this place, was the right place as far as I was concerned. Here there was no raving lunatic of a father, no twisted deviant of a mother and absolutely no Chad Bennings. Here she could let her hair down and relax for once. She could just chill-out and breathe deep, clean breaths for a while.

I glanced over at her as she was using a piece of toast to wipe up the leftovers of her eggs over-easy. She was just so damned beautiful. I think I stared at her for a while, with happy thoughts, glad the heavy weight she always carried proved prone to evaporation.

I dreamt I might be able to see that Katie for once. The girl I cared so much for. I’d give anything to see the real her emerge. I wanted to protect her and keep all the nastiness comprising her life up at bay.

For me, that was saying something. Especially since, until then, I had only been a horny teenage boy without any real care in the world. That was what cracked my resolve, sundered my will - her beauty. She had always had a dainty way about her. It was a siren-like appeal she had always managed to exude beyond the crude person she could sometimes be.

I have to admit, I fell victim to it. I surrendered. All the chivalry and “brotherly” protectiveness aside, I wanted her. More than anything, in that moment - as I watched the early play of the sunlight caress the edges of her face – I wanted to hold her in my arms. I could only dream she would respond to me in kind. No “friend-zone” bullshit. I wanted her to recognize how much I wanted her. I wanted her to want me back.

In that instance, I knew I would fail her and myself. I had to be honest with myself, with her. I couldn’t be sanctimonious if I couldn’t even look myself in the mirror. It was time for truth.

Thus, what I wanted more than anything, was to make love to her… so bad. I did, I confess it of my own free will. With a gentle touch, I wanted to spread her legs apart and sink my cock into her until I couldn't anymore. I wanted the tip of my penis caressing her cervix… just to feel her.

Oh god, I was becoming Jacob!

Her eyes darted over to mine and she smiled with admiration.

My thoughts shattered like glass.

“This is good,” she said, mistaking my gaze for one inquiring about the food.

“I’ll make a deal with you, Katie,” I blurted out of nowhere. The notions aligned so quick, even I wasn’t sure what I was going to say next.

She frowned at me as if she was accustomed to making deals that required a lot from her.

I felt dirty as I spoke. “I have a friend who can get us some decent bud. But if I do this, you’re gonna have to promise me that you’re gonna regulate yourself. You have to keep everything on the real, because I can’t have you acting like some meth-head on my watch. My mom will serve up my ass for dinner!”

She squinted at me to see if I was fucking with her, being the asshole like she was so used to seeing.

I returned her stare, letting her know I was serious.

She blinked a couple of times, after she realized I wasn’t being a dick and was talking for real. “You’d be willing to go out on a limb for me after all the shit I’ve caused?” she asked with profuse innocence. There was an underlying earnestness about her too.

You got it, sweetheart, just as long as I can spread those milky, white thighs…

I was aware of the thought crossing my mind, but I let it pass, and focused on my reply. “You just have to promise me you won’t make me regret this,” was the leverage she would have to accept. I turned upon the stool. I faced her more square. I prayed she’d see how serious I was being.

She considered my retort for a moment, and then nodded in acquiescence. “I promise,” was all she said. She reached out, grabbed me by the bicep and gave me a firm squeeze.

I smiled and placed my hand over hers, gripping it tight. “You had better, Katie, or your ass is mine.”

“Take my ass, big boy,” she played, her eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

I wasn’t having any of it, though, because in my mind, if she fucked up, I was going exact a heavy toll on her ass indeed. I was going to…

“I’m serious,” I added with a tilt of my head.

“How do you know I’m not just as serious?” her voice trailed off. She wiped of some of the remaining egg yolk on her plate with a corner of toast and plopped the whole thing in her mouth. When she saw I was unmoved by her comment, my gaze still pointed in her direction, my brows arched, she supplied, “Alright! God damn it, I already promised. What more do you want from me? I will keep it cool. I won’t get into any trouble. I’ll make sure I am safe. There, are you satisfied now?”

“There’s one more thing, Katie,” I said a little more monotone than I wanted to and immediately regretted it. I didn’t want her to misinterpret my intent.

She had and let out a huge bellow of air, visibly irritated. “Oh god, Eff, do you have to ruin a perfect morning with all this heavy shit?!?”

“I won’t even buy you a dime bag of oregano, if you don’t agree to my terms,” I stated. It was a simple fact. I had finished my food, so I scooped up my plate and made for the sink.

“Fucken Nazi,” she grumbled under her breath, cradling her head in her hands, over her plate, devoid of food.

I had turned on the water to clean the dishes and began to gather the cookery I had used to feed us.

She turned around to face me, her expression accepting. “Alright, what’s the last thing?”

“You can only toke-up when I’m around, no exceptions. And you’re only taking the edge off, not smoking out to get baked, ok?” I had already thought that part through, my mind was running in parallel with itself. One track was protective, the other was thinking altogether of something else.

“That’s it?!?” she exclaimed as if surprised. “Hell, Estefan, I hadn’t planned to ‘puff-puff-give’ with anyone else but you,” she joked. She used an age-old phrase from back in the day, before either of us had been born. “I don’t see that being an issue, so I accept your terms in full.” She put her hands over her head as if she were running for office and won.

“Cool,” was all I said. My own head was shaking back and forth at her wild antics and her one hundred and eighty degree mood swings. “Bring me your plate, dork, if you’re done.”

She slid off the stool, turning to grab the stoneware. “Dork? Why do I have to be a dork now?”

“Now?” I queried with false gall. “You’ve always been a dork, girl. What’re you talking about?”

She laughed from somewhere deep in her throat. It sounded to me like she was already planning her revenge.

I took her plate and began to wash it, my eyes catching hers for a brief second and found nothing but warmth.

She wasn’t scheming. No, not in any way, she was just enjoying the banter.

I was looking back toward the sink.

She walked off into the TV room, without so much as a mention of whether I needed - or wanted – any help. That was my Katie for you, absolute in the certainty she didn’t have to help.

God, how I adored her…