ossibly the most frustrating
thing about being an older
sister is the difficulty you encounter in imparting your wisdom to your younger siblings. Particularly sisters.
Particularly MY sister, in this case.
Maybe it’s because she’s so much younger than me, and my half-sister. That is, like so many people these days, we are the offspring of our father’s two marriages. (Since then, I heard that Chad has moved on to a third ‘relationship’-- this time with his plastic surgery-addicted former personal trainer, but I digress. I wish them every happiness. I really do.)
Ah, where was I? Oh yes, my baby sister.
Melissa was born when I was ten, to Chad and the woman he left my mother for. As per the divorce agreement, I was to spend every other weekend with my dad Chad’s new Happy Family, which almost never happened. That is to say, I had no interest in leaving our drab townhouse near mom’s job to barge in on my dad’s new love affair with his trophy executive wife in their spanking new Mc Mansion.
While my bedroom was a claustrophobic box overlooking a grimy parking lot, Melissa’s designer nursery featured the latest in imported Swedish baby clothing and gadgets to aid in Melissa’s ‘cognitive development’. And over the ensuing
years, it became the domain, in succession, of a veritable parade of winsome au pairs, the last of which turned out to be the cause of the collapse of said Happy Family when Melissa was seven.
When the smoke had cleared after the great Discovery of Chad and Sabina en flagrante delecto Melissa’s mother -- Ms. Software Executive – was hopping mad. Sabina jetted back off to Hamburg, and Ms. Executive discovered that when he wasn’t improving his German, Chad had been whiling away his days haunting their ‘home office’ waiting for his next million to come in.
The deal somehow never got done. Or maybe it was porn. I forget the details.
Anyway, by this time I wasn’t paying too close attention to their domestic drama because I was 17, and on my way to college. On a partial scholarship, mind you, because of my superior SAT results.
"The deal somehow never got done. Or maybe it was porn. I forget the details."
Nurse with a Purse
P
REGINA | 56
REGINA Fiction