“What’s the number?”

Phone in hand, the Sad Boy glanced across the aisle.

The Sad Girl, sitting next to him, was enjoying the twilight bus ride.

“Wait, what?” She looked quizzically as she watched the Sad Boy dial a number. She thought he was giving Favorite Sister a hard time. Then he spoke-

“My wife is a son of bitch without a father. I would like to know who her father is.”

“Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

The Sad Boy repeated himself.

“You got the wrong number pal.”

Click.

The Sad Girl smiled. “You did that for me? Thank you.” And she kissed him. The Sad Boy had called the man who raised her and asked the question for the Sad Girl.

The Sad Girl never would have asked him to do that.

Somewhere through the years, the Sad Girl’s crusade for Truth and Favorite Sister’s Crusade for Truth, had become his as well.

On a bus ride in Florida at Disney. Mickey Mouse questions about Mickey Mouse DNA on a Mickey Mouse bus ride with Mickey Mouse Sisters. It was fitting.

The White Elephant of Truth is sitting in the room but we can’t talk about it.

Oh, but never fear, we certainly can blog about it.

And the silent war continues…

 

 

With the summer came the dawning of a brighter day. Favorite Sister and her family returned north after a year spent with Sister II. They rented a home nearby while construction continued on their new home.

Cue the floodlight! Before the Sad Girl goes further, let’s bring witty Favorite Sister, aka Lovelilly, to center stage. She plays an important part in our family dynamic. Primarily, she is not afraid of anyone. Middle aged siblings still snicker while calling her Frogmouth.

Secondly, she is gifted with total recall. Her instant detailed recall of family events would bring the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe to a stuttering stop. It was at these moments that the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe played at dementia, conveniently denying any and all adverse scenes played out on the stage of our family production.

Favorite Sister is fortunate to be alive. She was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. It was only before her death that the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe divulged to Favorite Sister that the cord was wrapped around her neck three times. She was clinically dead at birth. The doctor had worked frantically to resuscitate her.

Favorite Sister is beautiful both inside and out. (I’ll throw in the word pulchritudinous just so she’ll have to consult a dictionary!) She is always perfectly dressed and coiffed for every occasion. Dirt, literally, does not stick to her. She will enliven any room that she walks into; it’s just the way she is. You could talk to her for hours on end, everyday, and still find new topics to discuss the next day. She has a beautiful heart. The Sad Girl has loved and trusted her with the awe of a little sister her entire life.

Behind the fair face and larger than life personality lives a chronically ill person. What began as dizziness and migraine headaches at the age of nineteen has been diagnosed as a complex genetic disease. The medical terms are frightening for Sad Girl, her little sister.

Now when she actually tips over, the Sad Girl teases her and says it’s because she’s a dizzy blonde. She teases her or else she would cry.

Favorite Sister makes light of an illness that she has, until recently, been able to hide. Now when she tips, she laughs saying, “It’s all the drugs.”

Her daughter perpetually reminds her, “Your medicated mom. You have to say it like that.”

“Drugs” is wittier and as every stage actor knows, timing is everything.

Favorite Sister’s illness has meant that she spent most of her days by our house while her husband was working. She needed company. She needed her family. Actually, Baby Sister and the Sad Girl needed her more than she needed us. She brought common sense and a clear mind into our home.

By the time Favorite Sister returned from her sojourn by Sister II, the Sister Who Shall Not be Named was in full bridal whirl. Try as the Sad Girl might, she has no recollection of picking out the maid-of-honor gown. It probably was selected for her, and then fit to size.

During the course of the summer, the Sister Who Shall Not be Named traveled to Ohio with Blarney Boy to meet his family. She would telephone when she arrived in Ohio and when it was convenient for her. Under no circumstances was the Woman with the Rock in Her Shoe to phone Blarney Boy’s home.

Gee, I wonder why.

The Woman with the Rock in Her Shoe let the Sister Who Shall Not be Named do whatever it was that she wanted to do. After the car accident, she had doted on her. She was given more free reign than the rest of the Woman with the Rock in Her Shoe’s daughters. Still, letting her go on the Ohio trip was out of character for the Woman with the Rock in Her Shoe.

It was as if she was going to prove to her family that she believed and trusted the Sister Who Shall Not be Named and Blarney Boy daring someone to question her actions.

The only one who dared was Favorite Sister. She reminded the Woman with the Rock in Her Shoe that she was disregarding the very morals that she had taught her children to follow.

 

 

Goldilocks