“Now let’s have some more gougere!” she said. They finished off the tray of flaky cheese balls between sips of the cool white wine.
“I need to get back to the kitchen,” Emma said, when an orange film on the tray was all that was left of the gougere. “Care to join me?”
“Of course,” Aaron said. “That’s where all the great smells are. And your company, of course.”
Aaron followed Emma into the kitchen, trying with limited success to stop his eyes from straying to her ass. If it was warm in the living room, it was hot in the kitchen, and humid too, from the cooking. Emma lifted a lid off a large pot and beckoned Aaron to see what was in it. A thick, orangey-pink broth bubbled inside. A scent of the sea wafted to his nose. Emma turned the heat down.
“What’s that?” Aaron asked.
“Lobster bisque. You do like lobster, right?”
“I love it. Wow. That smells amazing.”
“It’s going to taste even better,” Emma said, grinning. “It will be ready soon.” Aaron watched Emma chop some vegetables and move pots around. She opened the oven to check something inside, and another burst of steam came forth. Emma peered into the oven, legs straight, bending at the waist, and the skirt rode far up her thighs, until a hint of pink panty showed itself again. Aaron, behind his sister, stared, intoxicated by the sight of his sister, the heat, and the swirl of smells in the small kitchen.
Emma unbent, stood up, twirled, and went back to preparing the food, seemingly unaware of the show she was putting on or her brother’s inability to look away from her. Aaron noted the speed and efficiency with which Emma moved around her kitchen.
She stopped moving, took a sip of wine from her glass, and stared back at Aaron. The expression on her face, playful a moment ago, was suddenly serious, almost worried. Aaron was startled at the change in her.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Emma bit her lip and did not answer immediately.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “There is something. I’d like your help, but I feel funny about asking.”
Aaron was struck by the change in her tone. Emma seemed worried.
“Emma,” he said. “You shouldn’t feel funny. I’m your brother. You can tell my anything.”
Emma did not respond at first. She looked at the floor, instead. Then she looked at Aaron.
“The other day, I was . . . I was feeling myself. My boobs. I felt something.” Emma stopped talking and looked away from her brother to the kitchen wall.
“What . . . what did you feel?” Aaron asked. He waited, silent, for her to respond. He heard his heart pound while he waited.
“I don’t know,” Emma continued. “I thought I felt a lump. I wasn’t sure. I called my doctor and set up an appointment, but it’s a week from now. I’m kind of, like, freaking out.”
Aaron took a step closer to his sister.
“Oh, Emma,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing. But I’m sure the doctor can confirm that for you. I’m sorry it’s troubling you.”
“I know,” Emma said. “I might be worried about nothing. But I’ve got seven days to wait and it’s driving me kind of crazy. I was wondering . . . ”