by Karen Booth
Hours of discussion, over the course of months, went into the decision to tell him. We ultimately made a list of pros and cons on a piece of the Hello Kitty stationery Grandma had given me for my tenth birthday. We'd been careful to consider every possible outcome. Well, almost every outcome. When you're a kid, and have a mostly happy heart, there were only so many horrible things you could imagine. We were much more inclined to believe that no matter what, everything would be okay.
To this day, I could recite every word Amy and I said to each other the final time we talked about it.
When do we tell him? When he gets back from his trip?
Yes. I'll tell him. I'm the oldest.
I could tell you what we were wearing that day—I had on a cherry red turtleneck and jeans, and Amy was wearing a celery green sweatshirt that said LOVE on it in rainbow letters. I could tell you what was playing on the radio, but not because I cherished the details. My mind refused to let go of that conversation and everything that happened over the forty-eight hours that followed. It liked to replay it all in my head, like a movie. With precision, it remembered every color.
Years later, when we were teenagers, I'd asked Amy if she remembered what we'd said to each other that day, our rationale, our thought process. Had I dreamed it? What had I overlooked?
“I was eight,” she'd said. “I don't remember anything other than not wanting Mom to hear us.”
I remembered that part, too.
Patty delivered our pie, two forks, and an extra stack of napkins.
“I won't live through the guilt,” Amy said. “I can't give you a single reason to resent me for this.”
“For what? Being happy?”
Amy scooped up a bite of whipped cream and chocolate shavings. “No. For leaving.”
I stared down at the coconut cream pie, my absolute favorite dessert, and my sweet tooth refused to kick in. This was really happening. Amy and I wouldn't be together anymore. Everything was going to change, and I hadn't seen it coming. “I think I'll take this to go.”
“After you made such a big deal about ordering it?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I'm swamped at work.”
Amy yanked back the sleeve of her white blouse and eyed her watch. “Shit. I have to get back, too.”
I settled the bill with Patty, Amy ate only half of her pie, and I tried to turn my thinking around. My bond with my sister was too important to let my temporary shock get in the way. I needed time. That was all.
Amy and I said our goodbyes out on the street, over the steady hum of traffic and car horns. It was the most beautiful fall day—the air was crisp and dry, albeit perfumed with the aroma of the hot dog cart on the corner.
“You sure you're okay?” she asked.
The sun was shining right in my eyes, and even with my sunglasses on I had to squint to see her. Something about that hint of warmth on my face, coming at me in a kaleidoscope of gold, made everything a little better. She looked like an angel in the sunlight, and in many ways, she was exactly that—a blessing. I grasped her by the shoulders to underscore what I was about to say. “I am better than okay. The person I love most in this world is getting married. It's not possible for me to be more okay.”
She smiled and stepped in for a hug. “Love you, Kat.”
“Love you, too.”
“I’ll try to be home in time for Jeopardy.”
“Perfect.”
I turned back and started the walk down to my office, while Amy went in the opposite direction. All in all, I felt pretty good for someone who'd eaten a Matzoh ball for lunch. Sure, I'd just received life-changing news, and it would take some work to keep from slipping down into the depths of worry, which was my biggest downfall. But I had to focus on the good. Amy and I would always be close. Nothing would ever take that away from us, not even a man. We had an unbreakable bond—we'd made it through the obstacle course of our childhood, together. And even though Mom wasn't around to be a part of our adulthood, I wanted to believe that she watched over us every day, her heart full of a mother's love.
And hopefully some forgiveness for me.
Secrets of a (Somewhat) Sunny Girl is available now! NPR said it’s, “Not to be missed!”
“Heartfelt, funny, and utterly charming, Secrets of a (Somewhat) Sunny Girl made me laugh, cry, and fall in love.”-Joanne Rock, USA Today Bestselling Author