At least it’s the nice type of pig...

Putting my hands in my pockets to stop me from knocking out this oversized windbag I walk after Brian into the kitchen, finding mom diligently cooking away wearing a pair of blue yoga pants that hug her every feature, and a matching blue hoodie. Even from here I can see the frustration knotted on her brow as she bites the tip of her thumb to stop herself from speaking up, it’s almost cute to see considering she’s in her early forties.

“And if you make them late to class again Daniel, I swear to god I will smash that ridiculous mustang of yours to pieces” he threatens, huffing and puffing on his way out the front door. My mother holds her silence, so do I for that matter. He can say what he likes, weak mean speak a lot and do little. At least, that’s what my dad used to say.

“I’m sorry, mi hijo” Helena says softly as she steps up to me hugging me tight, her large breasts squeezing against my chest as I return the embrace. I link my arms around her, holding her just as tight as her trimmed, soft figure practically melts in my embrace.

“It’s alright, at least with everything else in the world changing, Brian will at least stay the same” I joke making her smile, her beautiful Cuban features lighting up, “Whats for breakfast?” I ask returning her smile as the sound of feet rapidly descending the stairs echoes behind me.

“Bacon and eggs” Helena replies as she spins around and returns to the stove, and I sit down at the island, cup of black coffee already waiting, she knows I don’t eat much, my curiosity reserved more for what my rapidly approaching little sisters were having than out of any actual interest myself.

“How? The pig just ran out the front door” I tease again, making my mother sigh and look to the ceiling, knowing full well where, and who, my jab was aimed at.

“What the fuck’d you say about my dad” A familiar, if often irritating voice chirped confidently from behind me. I knew my joke would piss her off but it’s all about the little victories, as immature as it is, it does make me laugh. Not out loud though, never out loud.

“Leave Danny alone Beth and stop being such a bitch to him just ‘cause Dad is” A second voice shoots back quickly, sitting down next to me. A delicate frown etched across my defenders brow.

“Enough! All of you! Dios dame fuerzas...” Helena interjects before the argument descends further, as she plates up the girls breakfast and sets about cleaning the pots.

To my left, is my less than friendly sister Bethany. She has her fathers golden blonde hair and milky white skin, and my mothers hazel eyes, but she takes after the women of her fathers side, at 5’6” with broad hips and narrow shoulders she hasn’t got the most impressive breasts, at least not in this family, yet she makes up for it with her legs and ass, being a prominent athlete in track and field at College. A pretty girl to be sure, if it wasn’t for her pent up aggression towards everyone and everything, and her intense goth look that she and her friends run about with.

But, on my right I had Amanda, my beautiful angel of a sister, tiny, cute, loving. Amanda had the brains of the family where Beth and I have the brawn. She sat there next to me, my mother in miniature, the same womanly hourglass figure, large double-d’s held behind a low cut v-neck anime shirt, Fire I believe, her long hazel brown hair reached down to her waist, and her green eyes always seemed to sparkle behind her thick-rimmed glasses, the only trait of her fathers she picked up in the genetic lottery, she was also shorter than our mom standing at a comfortable 5ft. Which is also why it’s hard to believe they are both twins, not only are they polar opposites in appearance, but personality too. Beth is a goth, Amy is a what you’d call an e-girl, Beth loves horror and serial killer shows, Amy loves anime and foreign language films, Beth loves sports, Amy loves video games, Beth likes rock music, Amy likes Latin beats. I could go on but honestly I wonder at times how they’re even related.

But that said, there’s never been a time in my life that my pint-sized sister hasn’t been there for me, or backed me up even in front of her own family. Which I’ve always appreciated, hell until I left for the Corps any time she’d have a bad dream it was always me she’d come to, any time she needed help with something she knew she could always turn to me. Despite being 6 years older than her, my lil sis and I have always been inseparable. Maybe Beth resented that, or maybe she’s really just Daddy’s little girl at heart. Who knows.

Amanda leans up against me, being more than a full foot shorter than I she comfortably tucks her head under mine as she eats her breakfast and I drink my coffee, our usual morning routine whilst I’m back from Afghanistan, like she’s afraid it’ll always be the last time.

“Oh Daniel, can you bring this round to your Auntie Angela after you drop the girls off” Helena asks sweetly as she passes me an old looking book with some odd symbols on it, it looks like some creepy religious text.

“Yeah sure, what is it though?” I ask, confused as Beth is busy shooting daggers at me across the island between bites of bacon.

“Just some old book she was supposed to take home with her, I cleared out abuela’s bookshelves, and Angela wanted to take a couple with her, I think she took the wrong one with her though because that was left here” She explains as she finishes up her own plate, depositing it in the sink.

“So Auntie Angela is into cults now?” I ask jokingly as I take another sip of my coffee.

“Yeah just like the rest of your crazy family” Beth mutters as she throws her fork down and storms past to get to my car in the garage.

“She always gets like this when you come home. It pisses me off” Amanda snaps in frustration, hugging me tighter, I can feel her body snug against mine, her leg moving up and down subtly rubbing her thigh against me as she squeezes my arm, she breathes in deeply, as if savouring the moment before sighing, her bountiful chest rising and falling in time.

“I’m sorry, mi amor, Amanda and I are so happy you’re home, even if Bethany and Brian aren’t” Helena sighs as she takes my hand in hers and kisses it, she knows all too well that the next tour, the next operation could be the last, never mind that this is always how it plays out when I come back, hence why I avoid coming back at all.

“I better get these two to school, mom” I smile, softly squeezing her hand as I rise from the island. Amanda rising with me as she reluctantly steps away from me, her hand lingering on my chest before she turns to our mother.

“Yeah, we better go. Love you, Mom” Amanda says sweetly as she hugs Helena.

“I love you too, mi hija, always” Helena whispers to her daughter as the two incredible women hug tight, it was a sight to behold, hell if it was to happen in the street they might have caused a crash I think idly to myself.

“And happy birthday, Danny” Helena calls over Amy’s shoulder to me, smiling warmly as always.

I return the smile.