Converted: Bring the Family, part 11

Sophie was examining the contents of the brown paper bag, looking perplexed. She was in her early forties, fair haired and tall. More progressive than her sister and her brother-in-law, Sophie sported a cotton blouse and a skirt that brushed her calves. She worked as a home nurse for a number of senior citizens in the neighborhood. Sharon had taken after her in more ways than one. It had been Sophie to suggest that Sharon and Heidy could benefit from staying away from home for study, and when the girls’ parents had expressed their doubts about the choice of New Orleans, Sophie had mollified them by pointing out the old city’s cultural tradition and many spots of interest.
Sharon grinned. It was time to thank her aunt properly.
She closed the kitchen door behind her, and Sophie turned and her eyes went wide.
“Who—? Oh, my goodness, Sharon?!”
“Hi, auntie,” Sharon grinned.

Sophie ran her eyes from the steel tip of Sharon’s boots, up to her evident cameltoe, her pierced navel, her abundant underboobs, and finally stared at her heavily made-up face. Sharon laughed and pulled out her tongue, the barbell clicking against her teeth.
“What have you done?” Sophie whispered.
Sharon shrugged. “I just decided to live my life,” she said.
Sophie frowned. “Your life? Like this?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
Sophie sighed, and pulled a chair closer, and sat down. “It will mean a complete break up with your family,” she said, sadly.
Sharon was surprised at her aunt’s simple response. She felt a stirring of anger in her gut. “What?”, she smirked. “No fire and brimstone? No admonishment for my sinful ways?”
Sophie smiled again her sad smile. “Are your ways sinful?”
Sharon responded by lighting up a cigarette. “Want one?”
Her aunt shook her head. “No.”
Sharon took a chair and sat astride it, her legs splayed open, her arms resting on top of the back. “You are spoiling my fun,” she said.
“Really?”
Sharon nodded. “I was hoping in a more scandalized reaction,” she said, blowing smoke in her aunt’s face. The older woman did not flinch.
“I’m not easily scandalized. Have you been home already?”
Sharon nodded. “I saw my mother.”
Sophie sighed. “How did Mary take—all of this?”
Sharon grinned evilly. “She is working on her shock right now.”
Her aunt nodded. “I can imagine.”
They sat there in silence for a moment.
“What about Benjamin?”
Sharon arched her eyebrows.
“I guess you are no longer seeing him, now.”
Sharon’s grin widened. “Well, actually seeing is not the exact word, auntie.”
“What do you mean?”
“I fuck him,” Sharon said, dropping her lipstick-smeared cigarette butt on the floor. “I suck his cock. I get drunk with, and I do drugs with him.”
Finally Sophie showed some surprise. “Benjamin?”
“I turned him into the man of my dreams.” Sharon arched her pierced eyebrow. “Turns out they were nasty wet dreams.”
Sophie squinted at her. “What happened to you, Sharon? Really.”
Sharon lit another cigarette. She stretched and grabbed another can of beer from the table. She signalled to Sophie, but her aunt shook her head.
“I think I’ve always been bad,” Sharon said around a mouthful of beer. “Deep down inside, I mean. I was a silly hypocrite, I followed my father’s rules and my mother’s wishes, and was sad and unhappy and ashamed of my fantasies and my desires.”
“Your mother never wanted you to be sad, or unhappy,” Sophie said.
“She made me dress like a burlap sack, with that stupid mop on my head, and taught me to live my life on my knees, afraid of being punished for what I really was.”
“Your mother loves you.”
“She tried to kill my spirit!”
“She tried to make you see the world, she sent you away to school—”
Sharon snorted. “That was only because you—”
She stopped, her mouth open.
She looked at the tall, slender, blonde woman in front of her. At her strong features, at her long hands, at her honey-colored hair. And for the first time in two weeks she was completely lost for words.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” she whispered.
Sophie was staring at her, her sad smile lingering.
Sharon took a black vial from her pocket, and held it in front of her face. Sophie felt the pull of the magic fluid. Sharon could see it in the way she leaned forward, her hands on her knees contracting, her eyes staring. Sophie licked her lips.
“What is it?”
“This is what will make us finally be together.”
Sophie stared at the vial for a moment. She stretched out a hand. Sharon weighed her options, then she took a can of beer, popped it open, and poured the fluid in.
“This will make it easier,” she said, “and it will take longer.”
She handed the beer to her mother, that started gulping it down like she had been dying of thirst.
“I want you to enjoy the whole process,” Sharon explained, grinning cruelly.
Sophie crushed the beer can and dropped it on the floor. “Now I think I’ll have that cigarette,” she said.
Sharon grinned and offered her the packet. “By my guest, mother.”