(The Ballad of Amy Lawrence Part 1 of 3: Suddenly That Summer)

The summer after fifth grade was one of those mythic and momentous summers; the ones where anything was possible, where boys became men and girls became women. A summer of tectonic change, profound self-discovery, and personal growth as the pages in our life story turn from childhood to maturity…and like the rest of my peers, it all began with a plane ride.

It had been years since the two of us left the Trask Family Farm in Pleasentdale, CA for Hillwood, Washington in the wake of mom's death. To help us get some footing for our new life in the city, her younger brother Uncle Adam bought out his late sister's share of the farm and moved in with his family (Aunt Clara, their eldest son Danny, and the twins George and Lenny who were older than me by about 1/4th of a year). Trask Farms managed to recoup its losses under his stewardship as the years passed, but then a dispute arose between Uncle Adam and their neighbor; a pompous viticulturist by the name of Cyrus Milton. While not the most neighborly of relationships to begin with, tensions took an ever so sharp turn after a violent storm knocked down the fence between the livestock and his vineyard. The only thing keeping Cyrus from taking any legal action was a twist as old and tired as time itself: Cyrus had a niece named Dora who happened to be the same age as Cousin Danny …and the rest can be spelt out from there.

Nuptial fever bore down on the two families like the summer heat; a date for the end of August was set for Danny and Dora to officially become husband and wife. But while Uncle Adam and Aunt Clara were already comfortable calling Dora their daughter, Cyrus still needed to be dragged along like a fussy infant who felt the need to make demands as he saw fit; the most demanding of which being that I stay with the Miltons and chaperone Dora in the name of keeping some veneer of modesty until the big day.

To say his decision was made in vain would be an understatement in hindsight.

"Look. Let's get one thing straight." Dora said pleasantly as she set down my luggage. "I know what my dad is doing and I want to apologize; so long as we're bunking together, you're not my prepubescent lady-in-waiting but more like the little sister I never had, deal?"

"Deal!"

Maybe it was just finally being back on the farm after all these years. Maybe it was Cyrus' ever so curt inflexibility over my arrangements still hanging over me. Maybe it was missing mom. Or perhaps it was a combination of all these factors and more; but for whatever reason, what should have been a quick hug between her and I ended instead with me feeling warm and weak. Time didn't so much stop as it melted as we embraced. Something felt viscerally right as the contours of our bodies grasped onto one another (also helping matters was her 3 in 1 shampoo, conditioner and body wash scented in spiced honey and vanilla).

"Um…Lila…I'm letting go and you're not?"

"Eep!"

"Hey. I get it, it's all so much so fast." Dora says with a stretch. "Anyway, let's get some shut eye."

With each passing summer day, the image Cyrus had painted of Dora as some lamb in need of shepherding eroded. Her proposition that we be more like sisters held true as I came to learn what a warm, generous, and very cultured person my quote-en-quote "charge" was. The two of us came to bond over cooking, sad movies, horseback riding, and moonlight sailing. Furthermore, even with her responsibilities at Uncle Cyrus' chateau, Dora was ever so willing to lend an extra hand around the farm of her soon-to-be-in-laws…and yes, she took her duties seriously, rather than as some thinly veiled attempt to sneak off for a nooner with her intended.

But as mentioned before, we became two girls sharing a room; and as such a certain intimacy along with it. A fact that was far from lost on Cousins George and Lenny as they too found themselves standing at the same crossroads between youth and maturity as I. And as the day drew to a close, the wordless smirks on their faces as Dora and I retired to the Milton house.

"Something I can help you gentlemen with?" Dora asks.

"Nah, just savor'n the view." Lenny quipped.

*THWACK*

"That's no way to talk 'bout your sister-in-law…"

"Boys." We chuckle in unison as Aunt Clara gives George and Lenny the what for.

"Hey Lila, think you can help me a bit with the pigs?" Danny asks from the barn.

With a nod from Dora, I am released into my cousin's custody where he and I share a chuckle over his younger brothers and their burgeoning fascinations with women. Though our work went by ever so quickly, the undertaking was the last straw in a long line of arduous labor (even by the daily standards of farm work). I'm a complete wreck as I stumble up the steps of the Milton house…that is until that comfortingly enticing aroma of spiced honey and vanilla. I float up the steps to the room we share as the scent of balmy steam mingles itself with Dora's telltale soap.

"My God…"

Before that moment, I could appreciate my future cousin in law's beauty like any (seemingly) straight woman; brushing off my fixation with the old "it's not like I'm blind!" routine. But something ever so visceral inside me began to stir and lurch as I stood in the threshold, gripping the doorknob for dear life as I behold Dora's flawless figure in all its unabashed glory.

My core quaked in envy at the unworthy clusters of lather cascading down her thigh.

Blinking became nothing short of a crime, lest the sight of her body somehow leave my eyes.

My jaw fell slightly, drying my throat in the process as she, not water, became the only dagger to plunge in the heart of my thirst.

"Oh! Hey Lila. Shower's ready when you are…Lila…hey Lila you in there?"

I should have been ever so pleased she didn't scream. That her greeting was more that of brief surprise than offense over my intrusion. Yet for some reason, I only felt dirty beholding her radiantly clean body. With a contrite nod, I tell her to take her time and go back to lying on my cot.

(five or so minutes later)

*thwack*

"Hey. Earth to Lila. Shower's ready."

Fashioning the towel into a rat's tail, a gentle flick on my ankle brings me plummeting back to earth. My face goes ever so red as I behold Dora, now in all her glory, as she stifles a laugh and doing the math over what made me catatonic…or at least trying to.

"Oh…oh honey don't tell me…pssh. Come on. We're all girls here, we all have the same parts...or will have them down the line. But the fact remains. There's one rule here in this room: our bodies aren't shameful, [you] hear me?"

"Our bodies aren't shameful." I reply quickly.

"Good."

"…yeah. I…I… I'm just gonna shower now…"

I help myself to the spiced honey and vanilla 3 in 1. Dora had long since allowed me ever so liberal use of the bottle, yet tonight the dollop I put in my palm is more the size of a dime than my usual Half Dollar. And my shower too, is rather long all things considered as I had ever so much to think about. It was times like this where the irony of Cyrus' proposal of having us room together really came to the forefront. All this worry, this angst, this hair-pulling over this or that boy prowling around with ever so unchaste intentions…yet as the stream of water coats my frame, I imagine each drop as kisses from her in tandem, anointing my frame.

A balmy night didn't help matters as Dora's frame lay atop the blankets silhouetted and bereft of clothing; illumined all the more by the ever so anemically ecru moonlight. Such a spectacle was a nice one to gaze upon as the weight of slumber bought my eyelids together for the evening. My dreams were pleasant for the foreseeable future; gardens where grew the dewiest and most pleasing of flowers, each more laden with nectar than the last. And I hummingbird buzzed about with joy as I surveyed and sampled at my pleasure. Some featured waterfalls while in others clusters of fruit grew in pairs along sturdy vines.

The summer continued, and the day of the wedding drew ever so closer. Another sunrise, another sunset. From the corner of my eye on the way back to the Milton house, I happened to catch Cousin George and Cousin Lenny hustling out of the woods along the path that lead to the pile where we burned our garbage. Both boys were always a squirrelly duo; but even by that measure, as they both carried a wooden crate into the barn, something felt sneaky. Naturally I followed them and hid behind the hay bales as they climbed up the second level.

"Good thing we saved these."

"I know Len, right?" George said with a victorious laugh. "It'd be a crime to see these torched on accounta' him getting hitched."

"Yeah well, life goes on. Torch gets passed." Lenny said with a groan. "Even if he does catch on that we took 'em, he still doesn't know where they are."

The sound of scraping noises can be heard as they place the crate in the corner.

"Now all we do is wait for the wedding. With everyone whooping it up, nobody will catch us here."

"Think we should at least get some hay bales up here to hide it better in the meantime?"

"Nah. I think it's concealed pretty well."

It didn't take a detective to figure out what George and Lenny were hiding away, the trove of girlie mags their older brother no longer felt he needed to keep around (or rather didn't want to get caught with) as he entered marital life. Yet there was still something of value in going through the motions: climbing up the ladder, brushing aside the hay, opening the crate, and finding the all too literal booty it concealed. My heart raced glancing at page upon page of women in various stages of undress, each comelier than the last. Like a frosted pitcher of water, I found my thirsts quenched with every heaving and pendulous pair of breasts, achingly succulent and lithe tummies, locks of hair flowing and cascading in luxurious waves, skin unblemished and vaginas glistening in arousal. Some were alone. Others sharing in carnal company with their partner(s). The tasteful and the tawdry, the airbrushed and the all too graphic, all on full, unabashed display.

Rather than be disgusted with my cousins, I found myself more than understanding as they charted the surging waters of sexual curiosity. But make no mistake that Lust had entered the chat. By now I had more than become comfortable gazing at her body as she rested, but now it was not enough for me to just gander. The need to touch, to hold, to possess had begun to take root in the garden of my heart.

Thankfully I knew better. And before long, sleep and I were reunited at last.

Before anybody knew it, the day of the wedding came. By all accounts, the ceremony went without a hitch and all who attended had a great time. Once the first dance between Danny and Dora was finished, everyone got a chance to dance with bride and groom.

"Lila, I think there's a dance with our name on it."

Dora pulls me to the populated dance floor, yet amidst the joy, something feels ever so off as the two of us glide among the few couples swaying in tandem with the music.

"I guess now that I'm an honest woman your little crush on me has subsided, has it Lila?"

I froze. My face starts to flush and my mouth starts to open and close like a fish on land in some futile attempt at denial. But with a knowing smirk, Dora gently places her index finger on my mouth.

"How…how long have…"

"From the moment we first started rooming together." She says quietly. "Your suspicious hesitance at ending our embrace could leave room for interpretation, but that night as I came out of the shower was the deal-sealer."

I wanted more than anything to sink into the floor. But instead, the knowing smirk turns into a reassuring smile as she cups my face with her hand.

"Shhh. Shh. Shh. It's ok. My lips are sealed. And…well, I guess I can't really be offended in being the catalyst for your journey…(she sighs)…usually this is the part where I in all my seasoning from life pass on some shred of advice as you and your dad go back to Hillwood, but I can't. Still it would be rude of me to leave you without some final…anything. So…good luck Lila."

The earnest and chaste kiss on my forehead she imparted was the final kiss goodbye from childhood to womanhood; clearly the emotional armor I needed as dad and I boarded the plane back to Hillwood after saying adieu to Trask Farms for what would come to be the last time. Over the years, we would get Christmas cards and other correspondences from Cousin Danny and Dora. Their marriage proved to be a long and happy one that saw to the birth of three children (all of whom would meet their grandparents). And while Cyrus Milton never gave any real blessing to his daughter in his lifetime, the closest he got to showing any amicability towards his son in law was begrudgingly taking on George and Lenny as associates in his winery and later leaving it to them in their own right.

Through it all, Dora kept her promise and never said a word.