Juice from a bottle into glasses (cold enough in here to leave them on the table). Then put two new logs in the fireplace. God, she felt sick. The roo... started to move around her. No, it was just the nausea again. Back to the bedroom to dress, heavy sweatshirt over the bra she’d slept in, leave the long underwear on, ski pants from the thrift store, thick socks, and get the high rubber boots from the mud closet at the back (generations of chickenshit on the soles and beyond), and the Spider ski. I could count on one hand the number of times the four of us had actually been together sexually but during each of these times I had a strong sense that there was something between Kristi and her mom that was even closer and more intimate than what I had with my mother. It was just a feeling but I know it is something that I will never be able to understand, just as people who do not embrace incest cannot fully understand the relationship between my parents and me. I have read about identical. More

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