Spoiled & Pampered

It was a hectic day at the Winfred household. Diana, the family matriarch, was running around, making sure everything was perfect. The little house that was always so quiet and calm was in an uproar that left the neighbors wondering what the hell was going on.

The Winfreds were a peaceful household. The two women who lived there were jovial and helpful. Diana Winfred lived there with her daughter Amy, a High School senior. The two women made it a habit of helping people around the neighborhood. Someone needed help with painting their fence; Amy and Diana were there to help. An out-of-state neighbor needed someone to receive a package. You can always ask the Winfreds to help. Does the neighborhood association need help raising funds to maintain the streets or build a new playground for the children? The Winfreds will gladly go around asking people to donate to the cause. People were always willing to help them.

It helped that both mother and daughter were drop-dead gorgeous.

Diana Winfred was 37, but she looked young for her age. A healthy diet and consistent gym visits kept her fit and her skin glowing. She often joked that the lack of stress from having a husband kept her beautiful. She was a high-ranking executive in a local company that owned multiple grocery stores around the town. Her laid-back demeanor and loving personality meant that people didn’t hesitate to tell her the issues they had with the grocery stores. As a result, she was always the first to propose solutions to problems and directly contributed to putting the company on the state map, which, in turn, fueled her rise to the position of VP.

If there was one regret Diana had for her meteoric rise in her career, it was that she wasn’t as close to her children anymore.

Yes, children. Plural.

Amy Winfred was in the last year of high school, having just turned eighteen. She wasn’t as approachable as her mother, but which teenager is at that age? But she did accompany her mother to help around the neighborhood when she could free up time from chasing boys and studying and her other fun little pursuits. She rarely volunteered, but if someone wanted her help, she wasn’t one to say no either. Her mother hadn’t raised her like that.

Those who’d lived on 66th Street for more than two years knew that Diana Winfred had another child. A young man who was just as helpful as his mother, if not more. Even in high school, he volunteered for hard work around the house and the neighborhood. Needed work on the plumbing and the plumber wasn’t around? Brendan Winfred was the one you called. Needed help moving in or moving out, and the moving company didn’t send enough people or was demanding too much money? Don’t worry, Brendan Winfred had your back.

The women around the neighborhood absolutely adored him. They would call him for the flimsiest excuses, and it would be even better if that excuse needed him to take his shirt off. There was always a small gaggle of women hanging around whenever he did work.

The men didn’t mind. They knew he was just a bit of eye candy for their wives, mothers, and daughters. They knew Brendan Winfred was raised right, and he wouldn’t step on anyone else’s turf.

By the time he'd turned eighteen, Brendan had a strong, powerful, muscular body, and he towered over nearly everyone in the neighborhood at 190 cm or 6’3”.

And then he’d enlisted, and 66th Street had lost its biggest heartthrob.

Time passed, and the neighborhood changed. Most of the people who’d known Brendan Winfred when he was still around moved on, their lives calling them to different parts of the country. Some moved up; others moved down. The small children’s playground turned into a basketball court as the children started skewing older and older; a small repair shop popped up near the neighborhood to cater to the growing needs of the car owners as their jobs moved further and further away from the little suburban heaven they lived in.

It was as if Brendan Winfred was a fever dream, a collective illusion of the neighborhood. But the place itself remembered him. The scratch mark where he’d accidentally nicked a door with a drill when drilling a hole for the hinges was still visible on the house. A small gouge in the pavement where he’d dropped a washing machine while trying to load it into a moving truck was still there. These small signs showed his enduring impact on the neighborhood.

And he would always have his family.

No one loved Brendan Winfred more than his mother and sister. They adored him. Amy idolized him, so much so that all the boys she went out with must come up to her brother. Sadly, none met her high standard, so all her relationships were fleeting and transient. She didn’t mind, though. She had her brother and her mother. And that’s all she needed.

Until he’d gone into the army.

Eighteen long months without him. That’s how the Winfred household had gotten its quiet reputation. But the mother and daughter had coped. They’d survived without him. They’d missed him terribly, but it was his decision to go, and they respected it. If they had their say, they would never let him go, of course. But an adult needs to make his own decision.

And he was the man of the house. He needed to learn how to take responsibility. And for that, he needed to move away from his mother and his sister, women who doted on him, and go into the real world, where the harshness would mold him into a man from a boy.

Originally, his deployment was for a year alone. A short deployment is meant to cover a soldier shortfall in an active battle zone. But then, as the situation deteriorated, his stay got extended. He was flying from one battlefield to another, always on the move, rarely with the equipment to contact his family. Sometimes, months went by without a call.

It was always nerve-wracking for his family. But they persevered.

And so did he, flying from land to air, to water, wherever he was commanded to go, he went, earning distinctions and honor. Always with the same helpful attitude his mother had instilled in him, never leaving behind his fellow soldiers, even if it meant disobeying orders.

His mother’s teaching came first; his superior’s orders always second.

Eighteen long months.

And now he was back. His military tenure finally completed. Back to his family.

Back to the women he loved.

Diana was flitting around the house, making sure everything was perfect. Amy sat on the sofa, wringing her hands, her face a mixture of nervousness and excitement. She looked at the clock, at her phone, and she looked at the door.

Diana had offered to pick him up. But Brendan had declined, saying he didn’t want to bother her.

Diana just shook her head. Of course, it wasn’t an inconvenience. Men and their stupid way of thinking.

But it did give her more time to prepare everything. She’d made Apple Pie, his favorite, with little crumbs of Apple intact, just the way he liked it. There was a giant banner hung in the living room that said: “Welcome Back.”

"Mom..." Amy called out as she twisted her body on the sofa. “Brendan’s late..." Her eyes darted to the clock. It read 3 p.m. His flight was at 12, and then the checkout and the distance—he should’ve been here by 2.30 at the latest.

“He could’ve gotten stuck in traffic.” Diana reasoned. He was running a bit late. She glanced at the stove. The stew was simmering.

“Or he could’ve gotten sidetracked, talking with his buddies." Amy made a face. “I swear, Mom, if he’s late because he’s having fun with his friends…” She trailed off.

“Now, now…" Diana tried to placate her daughter. “Let’s be reasonable here; your brother isn’t like that.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Like a bullet, Amy sprang from the sofa and ran towards the door. In a flash, she opened the door before Diana even had a chance to turn around.

And there he stood, looking much the same, his short cropped hair nearly touching the door frame, his body looking weathered and beaten. The pale skin had turned brown long ago from the sun. He had a tired expression on his face that turned into a smile as he saw his sister.

Amy stood there, unable to move. Diana was rooted to the spot as well.

“Hey Amy. Hey Mom.” His gray eyes flitted from his little sister to his mother.

And the next second, Amy tackled him, her speed and weight nearly carrying the much stronger, taller Brendan backward. And she was crying, her loud voice even reaching her mother.

Diana also felt tears prickle her eyes.

He was home. Her beautiful boy was finally home.

And that’s where this story starts. A story of a single family as they readjust to a life together, of burgeoning feelings and desire that run rampant because you want to be close to the people you love, no matter what it takes, no matter what society tells you.