“Or, maybe, the only thing your daughter cares about in a person is how fuckable they are, which would explain the difference in treatment between their Golden Boy, Princess, and me. Given how that’s the same values your son has imparted on your other granddaughter as well, I wonder who both of your children learned that from.” I offered.
“You can’t actually believe that!” Granny said angrily.
“Of course I do.” I replied casually, refusing to acknowledge her anger. “I spent the past three years trying to figure this shit out, and spent a lot of time reading up on this topic. Do you know what natures most effective safeguard against incest is?”
She just stared at me, so I continued.
“It’s a little tweak in our brains called ‘The Westermarck effect’. It’s the same reason marriages grow stagnant over time. Basically, the more intimately familiar you become with someone, the less interested you are in fucking them. It’s to ensure more offspring with genetic diversity or something. So, parents should be VERY intimately familiar with their children after spending more than a decade caring for them. Unless, of course, they never really cared for them in the first place, but were only waiting for them to start puberty and have sex. I mean, sure, if that was universally true, we wouldn’t need laws against incest. But then again, how did we get to this point in our non-existent relationship again?”
“That’s absurd!” she protested again.
“Save it, Granny. Claire admitted it herself the day I came back from the Hospital, though she didn’t know I was home and could hear them talk. She and Aaron were so consumed in fucking their other children, that the one they didn’t deem attractive enough completely fell off their radar. No sex for
Granny stood there for a while, realizing the gravity of the situation while contemplating the finality of my words. Not knowing how to effectively respond to anything I just threw at her, she quietly left.
The next morning, after being busy on the guy’s laptop for the entire night, Uncle John knocked on my door.
“Ready to go, Tim?”
“What?” I said perplexed, rubbing my tired eyes.
“I called Bill, but he wants to meet up in his office. I figured we could just go together.”
His voice sounded hopeful, making me believe he wanted to spring something on me during the drive. I did have stuff to do in the office, but I didn’t like driving when tired. My insurance was already costing me an obscene amount each month simply for being young. If I actually had an accident because my reflexes were dulled by the lack of sleep, my premiums would go through the roof. But with John driving, that wasn’t a problem.
“Sure. But I’ll need a shower first.”
I stood up too fast, though, and immediately regretted it when I felt dizzy as the pain shot through my torso. I caught myself, refused his offer of support, and made my way to the bathroom. I was just out of the shower and back in my shorts, when someone knocked at the door.
“Honey? Are you Okay? John told me you didn’t look too well when you went in here.” I heard Claire’s concerned voice.
“Yeah. Thanks. Everything’s fine.” I replied.
Then I remembered how exhausting it was to rewrap my chest after my last shower, and how beat I was after that. I was already tired from the all-nighter, so there was no way I’d get anything done if the rewrapping went the same way as the evening before. A little help couldn’t hurt. But did I want to admit that I actually needed help? And more importantly, did I want to admit that to one of them?
I sighed as I realized that the negative effects, if I tried to just fight through this, would be far worse than showing a little weakness.
“Uh ... actually ... you still there?” I asked in a defeated tone, half hoping not to get an answer.
“Yes!” came her immediate response. Despite me thinking about this for quite a while before deciding to call out to her, she didn’t sound like she had moved even a single step away from the door. Interesting.
“Could you come in and ... help me with the Rib Brace?”
The door opened and she stepped inside.
“Sure!” She said, as she took note of the room. I removed the wet bandaids, dabbed the areas dry with a clean towel and inspected the wounds, but Claire suddenly told me to wait before rushing out of the bathroom. She came back a minute later with big adhesive gauze pads that were also waterproof.
“Huh. I didn’t even think of something like that when I was at the pharmacy.” I remarked. “Thank you!”
