The kitchen and breakfast table was alive with energy as his mother, father and youngest sisters prepared themselves morning meals and exchanged gossip and their daily plans.Ben mumbled a greeting (a half-hearted ‘goomornin’) and went straight for a box of cereal. He lazily splashed some milk in a bowl, grabbed a spoon, mixed the contents and began grazing like a cow from his place at the edge of the breakfast table.His father, Peter, looked up from his newspaper just long enough to give Ben a once over and frowned slightly. He was a big man hardened by a lifetime of construction work and outdoorsy activities. That his only son would turn out to be such an unambitious nerd was a source of constant disappointment for him.Lucy, the youngest child of the Turner clan, had a slight variation of her father’s opinion. She was also thoroughly disappointed with her nerdy big brother, though this came more due to the fact that she was a stereotypical popular girl at her school. With her honey. A whole new flood of memories rushed into my mind. I was awash in memories. My mind was on overdrive tying to comprehend what this all meant. When you are 80, seven years is a small fraction of your life but when you are 14, seven years is one half of your life. At fourteen, I had been fucking my sister half of my life.“Em, Em, what’s wrong?” Suddenly I realized I had gone off into my memories. Mary was bringing me back to the present. Letterman was still on TV. My sister was shaking my shoulder. I looked into her eyes and saw genuine concern. I smiled and said, “Just remembering things I haven’t thought of for many years.”“I remember every day…every day now and every day then,” she said. She moved closer to me and reminded me of the very first time we did it. Again a memory came out of the dark reaches of my mind. I was seven and that would have made her 17. Our parents had to go back east to a funeral and we stayed home together to attend school. I spied on her as.
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