When we were kids, we looked out for each other. As adults, we have not lived near one another, but we remain close. Our childhood was one of few material goods and much turmoil. After our father abandoned us to run off with a young girl, mother had a constant stream of lowlife sharing her life. So it was up to my sister Ann and I to take care of one another.Now, 20 years later, I found myself staying at my sister's place over the holidays. Her husband had recently died as a result of injuries received in the gulf war, and she and her 16-year-old daughter Karen were having a hard time. Ann was working as a waitress and was having a hard time paying the bills. I went to visit a few days before Christmas and planned to stay about three weeks.Seeing how tight their living conditions were, I went all out buying them Christmas gifts. I got Karen a CD player and a bunch of music CDs, and a lot of other things girls her age must have. I got Ann a new microwave, coffee maker, and a 32-inch. The room quieted, most of the time I either ignored them or teased them back. I looked out on summer rain, “It hurts to know you women only think sex has to be paid for.”I turned to face them, “What you do to live has a harmony but each of you lack that harmony when you aren’t working. You hate or distrust all men because at some time in your life one of them hurt you and betrayed you. Because of that you close off your trust and hide behind what you do to live.”I looked around the room, “Yes, I am a man and would love having sex with any of you. Everyday you remind me that I would have to pay for that privilege. Everyday you remind me that you don’t trust me. Everyday you go out of your way to say I am not one of you.”I walked to my drawing pad and shoulder bag with all my pencils and snatched it up to walk to the door. I looked back at the silent room full of women, “I could easily afford to make love to one of you every night but that isn’t what I want. The woman that I want to.
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