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I’m a stunned grouchy person piling clothes in boxes. I hate packing but my new apartment in the Stonebridge neighborhood awaits me. My past, my tears and my muffled cries will be hidden in the bricks of this house and I will not return for them.
For the first time in a long time I have hope. I can’t say that I’ve changed because it’s not true, but I try hard and they say that is the important thing. Tragedy has taught me to be cautious and John taught me to suffer, the rest of my fears I can assign them as my own harvest... I am fully aware that my new life will not be a path of sunshine but I was trapped in a dark pit and I escaped and I won’t fall in again. The kiss of the unfortunate death, which, for the first time and without precedents, acted in my favor, offered me a second opportunity, which I intend to grasp.
I place the last sweater inside the cardboard box when the living room door opens and closes delicately. I don’t need to look up to recognize her steps.
“I thought you weren’t coming.”
“And leave you alone with the move? Of course not.”
“Jane, did I tell you that you are my favorite sister?”
“You skunk! I’m your only sister. Are you almost finished?
“Almost. Everything is almost there.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
Of course not, Jane always throws someone for a loop, there’s a reason she’s the older sister. She never knew about my misfortunes and I don’t intend to involve her now. She has plenty with her own stuff.
It’s better than what it looks like. I’ll live closer to work and I’ll change my view. I'll be a crazy girl in the city!
“Anne, you will not start again with how old you are and similar nonsense.”
“Now that you remind me, do you know Mary's latest gossip?”
“From her I expect anything.”
Jane frowns. She hates my secretary and does nothing to disguise it. I continue closing the box without paying much attention.
“It seems that, in the museum, I am classified as a MILF.”
“Milk?”
I laugh with desire. It’s clear that Jane is not out of the current wave, but outside of the galaxy.
“You're such a dummy! Milk is milk and they call me MILF. Mom I'd Like to Fuck.”
“Ah...”
“Don’t you have a damn idea what I'm talking about?”
“Not at all,” she said smiling and folding clothes next to me.
“MILF means (mom I’d like to fuck you.)”
“Anne Foster, what a bitch! You can’t allow it. You’re not a cheap slut.”
“Jane,” I sigh tiredly, “it's not an insult.”
“It doesn’t matter! Surely that little girl said it to bother you. She dies of envy. She wants to be like you but she doesn’t even reach your boot heels.”
Jane gave off so much anger that the poor cardboard box almost closed itself.
“And you're not a mother.” She grumbled more and more annoyed.
“No. I'm not...” something to thank my black destiny.
“You have to fire her. She’s an impertinent one and she’ll bring you problems.”
“She does her job very well.”
“She's a damn envious bitch!”
“I think she called me MILF as a compliment. I hope so.”
I’d better shut up about her constant hints about her wonderful twenty years of youth in front of my thirty-something senior years.
“Help me to seal this last box and I'll buy you a coffee.”
“Perfect, but a fast one. Adam hates coming home and I'm not there.”
Of course we don’t want to upset the good Adam.”
“He loves me...”
Damn my sister and her telepathic power.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you thought about it.”
“You’re happy, I’m happy. Final point. We’re already finished. We can go to Starbucks that’s at the end of the street, I feel like having a nice piece of apple pie with cinnamon.”
“By God Anne! Where do you put it? You don’t have a gram of fat.”
“That’s the magic of sports. One day you should try it with me.”
“No thanks, with my yoga classes I have enough.” She happily said.
I lean on my sister's arm enjoying her company. We’re the opposite to each other that sometimes I doubt our genes. I look at her and I can’t help but admire the reddishness of her hair, hers is even brighter and more golden than mine. The crystalline green of our eyes is identical and the sadness that is kept in them, I fear that also is identical. Jane is beautiful, we are sisters and I will never be able to thank our parents enough for bringing her into my life.”
“Thank you.”
I didn’t need any more explanations. Jane's telepathic power worked perfectly. She is my sister and I adore her.
“By the way, has the famous Blackman arrived?”
“No. According to Bruce, he’ll arrive next week.”
“That man doesn’t have any sense.”
“I can’t stand him but I trust Bruce's good judgment.”
“Bruce has been your mentor and your guide. He has always been very good to you, I don’t see why you wouldn’t trust him.”
“That’s just the way it is.”
“And nothing new? Gossip, rumors, men in general...”
My dear sister and her continuous dreams of men who come into your life and make you fall in love with their eyes.
“You are a hopeless romantic.”
“I can’t help it.”
The poor woman wants me to fulfill the dreams that escaped her. We both got married because it was just what was expected of us. Neither Jane nor I have ever felt any tingling in our stomachs, no heartbeats or silly smiles that rob us of sleep. Love or its lack of it, is not a topic that we usually talk about and I won’t be responsible for resurging wounds that hurt. Jane survives in her marriage and it’s not necessary to be an expert in matrimonial psychology to see what is going on there. I won’t interfere in her decisions, but when the time comes and she needs me, I’ll simply be there.
Loneliness taught me that we all make mistakes. Some of us look for a blanket that shelters us, and it could be said that we have even found it, but then we discover that our security blanket has become a slab that suffocates you without being able to escape.
“I'll tell you some nonsense, it’ll seem fun, but it's just that, silly. Don’t get any illusions,” Jane claps her hands. “You're deluding yourself! I’m not going to tell you anything anymore.”
“Don’t be silly. Tell me!”
I smile to see her wait for a story of princes and princesses.
“I've met an interesting man but...”
“No!” She shouted excitedly, “and why you haven’t you told me before!”
“It was in the part of the but...”
Jane nods nervously. The poor girl waits for slow music and red petals falling from the sky.
“We met at the museum but I don’t think we'll see each other again.”
I think I’ll avoid the visit to the Temple of the Passions and the ass groping, that part for Jane is a triple X category.
“What happened?” She said expectantly.
“He opened the door to my office and I looked at him with astonishment... I found his burning blue eyes, hunk of a body,” my sister opens her eyes enthusiastically, “he looked at me, he approached me, he pressed his body to mine, he stretched his strong arms, he sheltered me against his chest and threw me to the sofa while he ripped off his shirt.”
“You’re an idiot...”
“And you dummy. What did you think was going to happen? We just exchanged a few words. I found him interesting and terribly handsome but nothing more.”
“Interesting... Terribly handsome... That's something I haven’t heard from your mouth for years. Keep going...”
“Jane, stop making mental pictures. There were only a few words. He was charming.”
“But there is something else. I can tell.” I sigh, annoyed but deep down I want to tell her.
“You see, I don’t know how to explain it. His words, the way he spoke to me, it’s as if he knew me, as if with his eyes he could read my interior. He’s fantastic and I can’t deny that he’s delectable, but there is something beyond the physical. He calls me, he attracts me, something unites us, I...”
“You like him! And why do you say you won’t see him again? Was he a visitor?”
“No”
“And then what? You should investigate and find out which department he works in, then you drop by there as if nothing is going on and then you give a couple of discrete signals, you know, better not to look like a hustler and....”
“Are we going for that coffee?”
“Yes, but I refuse to change the subject. You should follow my advice...”
Jane continued talking in a hurry and my concentration escapes to another place.
Do I really want to see him again? Do I want to feel nervous, safe and terribly vulnerable? This is all new for me. My blood boils when I see him and that is something I can’t deny, nor can I deny that he is the type of man that has a danger sign stuck to his forehead. Those type of men you end up totally in love with and terribly damaged. I don’t seek to fall in love, I'm not ready to fall in love but how do I stop deluding myself!
