A Rock and Family Vacation

[20]

The assault on the waves was destined to be fruitless. Time and tide were insurmountable, but they at least counted it as a moral victory that would teach the currents that the current state of things would not persist forever.

Blair watched as Lacy stomped around the waves stiffly, constantly checking on the fit of her swimsuit as though she worried that it might suddenly slip or rip off if she moved too vigorously. As not only that didn’t happen, but the outfit likely felt as comfortable and protective against the water as Blair’s, Lacy started to move more like normal and vigorously splash her sisters then scamper away from the return strikes.

She cackled and grinned, not dwelling on the girlish sound of her laughter. It wasn’t long before a stray seaweed became a tool of entertainment. Blair swam out far enough that she could float but still touch bottom. It was a bit shaky, as her muscles didn’t hold the same sway against the tow. The upswing of the waves threatened to pop her loose from her swimsuit, but she managed to keep it under control. Nothing scandalous happened but she definitely concluded that options with more leeway for her size would be necessary. Clare had to gawk at her siblings and honestly announce, “You’re both so beautiful!” Lacy groaned loud enough to challenge the crash of the waves. Blair thanked her.

After a while, they returned to the towels, passing the devastated remains of the castle. Lacy found herself in a bit of a quandary as she couldn’t immediately slip back into her robe because of how drenched she still was. And none of the spare towels were large enough to span her body as thoroughly as the robe. She wound up applying the towel frugally across her chest and stretching it to rub her face. The bun drooped behind her but remained intact. Her legs beyond the suit were totally exposed despite her best efforts to squeeze them underneath.

Clare wore her towel like an extension of her hair and crouched between her sisters. She glanced over at the folded-up robe and remarked to Lacy, “You really like that thing. Is it because it’s dad‘s? It kind of smells a little like dad.”

Curious, Blair gave a few sniffs in the direction of the robe. The aroma profile didn’t seem particularly distinctive. It definitely retained some hint of the discount soap they used for everything. At the same time, she felt a cousin to the stark presence on Dylan. That was a tangle of alluring pheromones which made her contemplate the idea of following him to the club. This seemed more reassuring and subtle. Quite literally, she surmised, a fatherly presence. Blair smirked and proclaimed, “Ohhhhhh. I see.”

Lacy immediately scowled and dashed her eyeballs at each of them. “See what? No. It’s not because it’s dad‘s… It’s because… it’s 'cause it helps to cover everything. That’s all!”

Blair brought up her theory and how she’d run into a skater boy who had a very sharp scent. She left out the fact that they had talked, and he texted her because he thought she was college-aged, but Blair was otherwise truthful. Lacy vigorously rebuffed every aspect of this theory. “It’s not cause of smelly stuff. You smell! I’m just wearing it because I prefer it! And I’m gonna put it back on when I’m dry!” She motioned toward this and rubbed the towel around to speed up the process.

Meanwhile, Blair hinted at the presence of boys. She highlighted the sentiment blazed across Lacy’s outfit and teased that if the tiniest hint of their father made her all warm and fuzzy inside, then she was truly going to go boy crazy out and about. Lacy huffed and fumed. She scolded Blair about dragging her into her own “obsessions”. The discourse devolved into a rapid and vapid volley of teasing words. Blair thrilled at it and, despite frantic protests, Lacy seemed more embarrassed than angry. Clare appeared concerned even though it was familiar territory for her older siblings to tease one another like this.

The situation stopped short of slaps and grabs, even though a few hands were crossed. Once the heat of the moment cooled down with Lacy panting and drying off the last wet patches with neither laughter nor complaint, Clare cautiously proposed, “Is it because it’s more like a dress? I like dresses. I never thought I would, but they’re comforting. The way they cover, flow, and keep you safe.”

Lacy‘s first reaction was to take this notion with the same grain of salt as the last. But something clicked as she was about to fully rebuff it. A robe was kind of like a dress. She acknowledged the visual similarities. The way it hung, the obscuring, the sense of protection, and the soft material.

Blair watched something break in her sister, like a mechanical doll stretching her springs to the limit. She was caught between thoughts, unable to move and barely able to blink. What broke her free was innate stubbornness. She puffed a long breath and announced, “Ok fiiinnne, then I like wearing a dress but only so long as it’s like a robe and doesn’t look like a stupid dress. Flecking gosh darn it!” One of the key swears Lacy was allowed in the presence of her younger sister without getting in trouble. Blair couldn’t remember any specific infractions, but she felt like they had all slipped a little past the profanity threshold, especially today.

The quality of the light shifted from the blinding starkness of noon to a subtle, almost golden shade of afternoon. They stayed just a little bit longer before packing up the used towels separately from the tote and divvying up the rest to haul back. Blair handled the tote, so as not to crunch up the saved note.

The lower door they came through needed a firm shoulder shove from Blair to properly open. Inside were several tangles of mist bleeding off the jacuzzi area. Their mother wore one of her usual, pink swimsuits as she sprawled out with her arms anchoring her and the rest of her body wobbling with the bubbles.

Clare was the first to burst out that it looked really cool. This roused their mother to calmly glance over with a wide yawn. It wasn’t long before she had to share the Jacuzzi with the rest of them. The warm water wasn’t too different than the summer Atlantic waves, but it was definitely better than the bitter brine. Mom mulled the fact that the saltwater on them might corrode their host’s tub but, considering the suspicious ambiguity in their note, she kind of hoped that it did. They didn’t stay very long before heading back to the main part of the house after drying off on some spare towels mom brought down with her.

Their father was wrapped up in some scribbled notes as he welcomed them back inside. Clare and Blair changed into their previous clothes in their respective rooms, but Lacy dawdled an expected amount with cautious, unspoken clinging concerns. Blair bluntly advised her, “Clothing names are all made up. Just wear what’s comfortable for you.” To this, Lacy nodded and acknowledged her sister‘s point but added, “I just wish I had more stuff that fit me. And I wish that I could deal with all this girly crap better, but I can’t. I’m not a girl and I don’t want to have to deal with it. But since I gotta deal with it, I wish it wasn’t such a freaking headache. Really, I wish I had Krystal. Imaginary girl can deal with girl junk.”

Blair waited for her sister‘s rant to wrap up. But as soon as it was quiet, she heard an audible ”THUNK” from her closet. She practically jumped from the noise, a sudden sheen of sweat spreading out from the remaining jacuzzi dampness. Lacy looked over skeptically and didn’t seem particularly bothered by the sound. Peering inside the closet, Blair looked around several times before judging that nothing moved, especially not the rock which was still tipped with a clear opening as she had left it. She was about to speak when Lacy ribbed her, “Is your buddy upset?” Blair firmly closed the closet and sharply answered, “Everything‘s fine. Mind your own business. You want clothes? They’re still open. You can walk over there. Quit wishing and playing games with people for the most basic things. I don’t care what you wear, just don’t be an overdramatic bitch about it. God!”

A lot of the stuff she said were things she immediately regretted. She didn’t want to face them, so she stormed off from the room without looking back. Clinging to that bitter mood made her sick. She hated maintaining anger and upset. It was irrational and so much work for just causing your own suffering. Screw drama. But she couldn’t go back and say something.

She needed to cool off. At least this roiling, private irritation brought her in touch with her manly side again. Boy Blair would be like this during an argument, and nothing had changed. Go somewhere to quietly sulk and build up the frail baseboards of a mind palace. She didn’t have the patience or lasting determination to be angry at anyone or to work out or hone her deductive reasoning in puzzles. Lacy could be persistently upset though, and she figured her sister didn’t want to talk to her again after that outburst.

The only spot she really wanted to be was over on the far side of the house from their bedrooms, on the main floor. The sliding door was over there, mostly in the dark except for a few trickles of afternoon light bleeding through the blinds. She hopped up on a little platform flanked by plush pillows and a three-sided bay window. Her sliver of perfect isolation from everyone else. If only she brought her cell phone.

Blair told herself that she could manage, she didn’t need to see social crap or videos on YouTube or anything else. Dylan would never ever work anyway. Even ignoring their age differences, and the fact she misled him, she had the nagging expectation that as soon as she figured out this whole second, crazier form of puberty then the forces that be would flip everything on its head and turn her back into a boy. After that, perhaps they would continue to play havoc as she was just sent ricocheting back and forth like a pinball of fate. That was the truth of her life. Confusion, loss, anger, cowardice, and quiet sulking. She scolded one sister and made fun of the other, but she was worse than anything she claimed of them. She was useless. Persistent swallowing and massaging her face were enough to save her from sounds and tears even though her eyes got glossy.

No one came over to see her for a long time and she wasted as much of that time as possible in meandering, self-flagellating thoughts. Until…

“…Bear?”

The voice was so tiny that she half imagined it was literally squeaked out by a mouse. Standing with her head down with a slight light spill from the main room framing her shape, was her sister Lacy. And she was wearing a dress. An honest to God dress. It spread in a loose, lean shape from Lacy‘s modestly covered shoulders to a waistband that casually enveloped her midsection. The top definitely downplayed what she had and the bottom all but wiped away the shape of her legs like a frozen version of one of those tides they tussled with. Slight pleats gave it a bit of ornamentation beyond what she imagined a farmer girl might wear in the 1800s based on a handful of westerns she recalled. The hair bun looked like it had been mended. She took a few cautious steps closer before softly saying, “… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She didn't have tears in her eyes, she had rivers. Poor Lacy looked at the threshold of dehydration from all that was flowing out of her. She attempted to blubber her way through an explanation for her appearance and a further apology. Blair hopped up and immediately wrapped her sister up in a careful, but open hug. In return, she squeezed her in a vehement, almost exhausting Clare-style hug and cried desperately. It was like turning back the clock so many years. She let her cry as much as she needed as they sat down together beside the window.

She thought it was a hyperbolic notion, but Lacy did manage to actually dehydrate herself from tears. She desperately finished her bottle of water from earlier and arrived at a sense of calm. And then she poked Blair in the side.

Confused again, Blair listened as Lacy spilled a flurry of words, “You dumb jerk, you can’t…you can’t get actually mad at me! You’re my big brother and sister or whatever. I’m the one who gets mad. I’m the one who drives you all nuts and then you just sigh and say exactly what I need to hear. You know… If it happened to you first, I would’ve grabbed the dumb rock…and then heaved it out a window. We’re together for life… Don’t scare me by being mad at me. I’m sorry…” All that was wildly incoherent to Blair, but she sighed and put a hand on her sister’s head.

“I’m sorry too. I forget you’re… kind of a dumdum. I need to watch out for what I say… Especially because now you can literally get your tits all in a whirl.” She had no idea why, but that response triggered something in Lacy, and she gave a quick giggle which then spilled over into uncontrolled laughter with no chance of being contained. Lacy only managed to finally fight it off when it seemed like it might endanger her wobbly bladder’s tenuous hold.

Nothing else needed to be said between them. Lacy admitted that the dress was something from mom and she just about sent her into shock when asking about it. “That robe is kind of dumb, when you think about it. With your magic…top comfort gift to me and some shorts underneath, I actually feel more like myself than I did sweating up in that toasty thing. I don’t feel like figuring out if I can wear this tomorrow 'cause I already got some stupid stuff that I can wear, but I’m totally ready to just get it over with…all the bull grandpa makes a big deal of.”

When they were done talking to one another, Lacy heaved a big sigh and asked, “You wanna play some video games? I’m tired of being lost and mad and sad and confused and stupid and everything. I just want to have fun like we were supposed to have over on the beach. Let’s have some better fun!”

[I have a question at the end of the chapter again to help with suggestions for where the story should go. I'm a couple chapters ahead but I love seeding ideas from people as much as possible. Feel free to add an idea which doesn't show up in the options. Thank you for reading!]

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