The TV was on loud when Emma, Egan, and I walked through the front door. The ride home had been a rather sober one with Egan’s occasional reports of elementary stupidity the only conversation.
“What’s on?” Egan yelled, running into the living room. I knew it wouldn’t hold his attention for long—even from where I stood in the hall I could tell it was a talk show. Mom didn’t like Egan and Emma to watch talk shows so I knew Enid would either turn the TV off or chase Egan out of the room. I was betting on the latter, but I wasn’t sticking around the find out. Mom apparently wasn’t home and I didn’t feel like being the peacemaker.
I jogged up the stairs toward my room and the solace of a pair of jeans. I’d attended the same Christian school since K-4, and I’d been wearing skirts to school every day since I started. I hated it. Mom said she didn’t see what the big deal was—she wore skirts all the time and she thought they were more comfortable than pants or shorts. She kept hoping I would grow into a love of skirts and dresses. I actually did have a few skirts I liked now, but I didn’t wear them unless I had to.
It wasn’t until I reached the doorway of my room that I noticed Emma clumping along behind me.
“Where am I supposed to go if you’re gonna be in your room?” she sulked.
I fought against my emotions, but I couldn’t help it—I felt bad for her. She was the one who had to give up her room completely. Who knew what Cashel and Gus would be getting into in there while we were at school.
“I’m just gonna grab some clothes and then I’ll go check my email.” Our family only had one computer too. “I’m sorry. I know things are tough right now.”
She sighed and I knew we were friends again.
“I guess they’re not so tough for us as they are for Enid,” she said.
I nodded, but I couldn’t help thinking that they weren’t so tough for Enid as they were for Smith. I tossed my book bag on the bed and began rooting through my drawers for jeans and a t-shirt. Emma closed the door and flopped down on my bed.
“Why don’t you like sharing a bed with me?” She asked.
I shrugged as best I could while in the middle of peeling my school clothes off.
“I don’t like sharing a bed with anyone.”
“Oh. Okay. Were you talking to Blaine Anderson today?”
I paused just for a second before pulling my shirt the rest of the way on. I could tell by Emma’s tone of voice that she was going somewhere I didn’t want her to go. Was this the only reason we reconciled? Just to fight again?
“Uh yeah.”
“He’s not a nice guy, is he?”
“How would you know?” Completely changed, I opened the door hoping to escape before this conversation went any further.
“I’ve heard stuff,” she said.
“Well, when seventh grade gossip starts being true, I’ll be concerned about what you’ve heard.” I closed the door behind me before she could think of a retort and headed for the stairs, my steps charged with annoyance.
“Riki,” Egan and his whine met me at the top of the stairs. “Enid won’t let me watch TV.”
Enid was married and gone when Egan was too little to remember. He didn’t really think of her as a big sister, just as someone who visited occasionally. He thought Elton and I had authority over her since we were the big brother and big sister.
My annoyance was eager to include him and I didn’t have a problem finding a reason—he sure found it easy to be nice to me when he wanted me to do something for him. I bottled my annoyance with some difficulty and answered in the proper big sister way.
“You’re not allowed to watch talk shows. Go do something else ‘til Mom comes home.”
“But where is Mom? Why can’t Enid change the channel?”
“Good grief, Egan, do I control everything? I think it’s pretty obvious that I don’t. Go do your homework.”
“Why aren’t you doing yours?” He scowled, his niceness disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
I shoved back the words “shut up”—forbidden words in the Young household—and squeezed past him, taking the steps three at a time. Did I have to run away from every single member of my family to get some peace?
I was nearly to the door of the study when Enid shouted, “Emma!”
I sighed, deflated. What was so wrong with wanting to be alone?
I dragged my bare feet on the carpet as I made my way to the living room—I didn’t have the energy to pick them up. My loud, demanding siblings had drained me. I stopped in the doorway, not bothering to say anything. Enid was alone on the couch—the boys must have been asleep upstairs.
“Hey,” she turned to me. Her eyes were red and swollen, but the rest of her face was ashen. Her beautiful strawberry-blonde curls were greasy and tangled and pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her mouth tried to smile, but didn’t succeed—a dimple barely appeared in her right cheek before it disappeared. I shrank back from this person who used to be my beautiful sister. “Wanna watch TV?” she asked.
“I—I gotta do homework,” I said.
She nodded and turned back to the television. I retreated quickly, but not quickly enough—not before I saw the silent tears run down her pale cheeks.
I sat staring at the blank computer screen for a few minutes trying to figure out if I did have homework. I hadn’t exactly paid much attention in school. Had I lied? Had I really made my sister cry by lying?
I shifted uncomfortably in Dad’s desk chair and my knee bumped the desk, waking up the sleeping computer. That thing was the lightest sleeper ever—it woke up if you walked past it too hard. It whirred softly and the monitor clicked on. I found myself looking at a picture of my entire happy family taken—goodness, had it only been a month ago? We’d gone on a picnic right before Elton left for school. Smith’s grin lit up his entire face as usual. He had Cashel in one arm and the other arm was wrapped securely around Enid’s shoulders. Enid held a tiny Gio, her face just as happy as Smith’s. Elton had Gus on his shoulders and both were laughing. Mom and Dad had their arms wrapped around each other looking more like newlyweds than the parents and grandparents of all these children. There I was sandwiched between Smith and Elton, looking just as happy as anyone.
What had happened? The question I didn’t want to ask rang in my brain. What had gone wrong with our family? How had it happened so fast? Or maybe it hadn’t. Had Smith and Enid been having trouble back then? Surely there had been some signs. People didn’t just decide to separate within a week, did they?
I hated those questions and I hated the sadness and confusion they brought with them. I quickly clicked on the Internet Explorer icon and made the picture disappear.
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