Henry's Sisters. Cathy Lamb

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СКАЧАТЬ Parker’s head, then shot three times into the river.

      The police were summoned, handcuffs were snapped.

      The usual.

      Their divorce was ongoing, messy, and horrible. Compare it to World War III on a microlevel.

      Cecilia blew air through her two front teeth. “I should hear the first report in a few days from the detective.”

      The waitress brought our food and beer.

      “Anything else?” The waitress was sulking.

      “Ketchup. Hot sauce. Extra cream for the coffee, please,” Cecilia said.

      The waitress rolled her eyes.

      “Hey, Beck’s daughter, rude one, try not to roll your goth-decorated eyes when your customers can see you. Get the stuff, wipe the bugger off your nose, and go harangue another fat person.”

      The waitress flounced off, then came back and dumped the stuff on the table.

      “Parker smiles at me now, with nauseating condescension, trying to convey that he feels sorry for the poor, fat ex-wife.” Cecilia guzzled her beer. “He comes by, gets the kids, gives them a big hug, and in front of me raves about all the great things ‘the four of them, the family’”—she again mimicked Parker’s voice—“are going to do every other weekend.”

      I wanted to break my brain on the table I hurt so bad for Cecilia.

      “I hate her even more now,” Janie whispered. She separated the food on her plate from the other food. She tapped her fork four times. She shook the salt shaker four times over her omelet. “I’ll put her name in my next book. It’s Constance, right? I’ll give her a venereal disease, a pockmarked face, long earlobes, inverted nipples…”

      Cecilia leaned toward Janie. “You know, Janie, I’d appreciate that.”

      “You would?” Janie’s voice pitched in hope.

      “Yes, I would. You’re a vengeful sister and I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for that.”

      “Oh!” Janie dabbed at her eyes. “And you’re a strong Viking woman, a Valkyrie! No need to thank me!”

      “I love how you want violent things to happen to Parker.”

      “Of course I want violent things to happen to Parker, he hurt you! You’re my sister!” Janie could not go on, choked with emotion.

      What a sap.

      Cecilia briefly held Janie’s hand and they shared a loving-violent moment together. “That reminds me.” She bit down on two slices of bacon at once. “I had my review at school last week.” She blushed. She coughed.

      “Why are you blushing?” Janie asked.

      “I’m not blushing.”

      “Yes, you are,” I said. “I can see it. I can feel it.”

      “I’m not.”

      “Who gave you the review?” Janie asked. Her antennae were up and wiggling.

      “My principal, Dr. Laurence Silverton.”

      She smiled when she said his name. Blushed more. It was as if she was caressing the words.

      “He’s the best principal ever at our school. Came from Los Angeles. He loves Oregon, the rain, the outdoors. Loves to ski and hike and bike.” She paused, her eyes unfocused, a blush blooming on her cheeks. “He’s very tall. Kind of big. Not big like me. But big. Taller than me. Big guy.”

      “So he’s big?” I asked.

      “Yes, he’s big.” She sighed. “He’s nice. He’s the nicest man I’ve ever met.” Her voice was awfully soft. So unlike Cecilia.

      That amused me. I winked at Janie.

      “How nice is he?”

      Cecilia didn’t even blink, off in her own world. “He’s sweet. We all love him. The teachers. The kids. I…” She coughed. She sighed. “He’s so funny.”

      “How funny?” I asked, I could barely contain my laughter.

      “He has a dry sense of humor. And he sees how things are. You know how most men are so dense? They can’t see beyond words? They never want to find out how you really are? Never want to touch anything resembling an emotion? You know how men see through you? He’s not like that. He’s deep.”

      “How deep?” Janie said.

      Cecilia’s face got positively dreamy.

      Janie stifled a giggle.

      The giggle made Cecilia blink herself right out of her trance.

      She watched us watching her, our lips twitching as we tried to stifle those laughs.

      She sat up straighter and her expression tightened. “Dr. Silverton is a professional. I respect him as a professional and, I believe, he respects me.”

      “Of course he does,” Janie soothed.

      “Absolutely. A professional,” I said, drinking my beer.

      “He’s a fine man.”

      “Yes, so fine,” Janie drawled. “And big.”

      “Big. Very big,” I inserted. “Not too big.”

      “Shut up, you two,” Cecilia said. “Let’s change the damn subject.”

      “Oh, let’s not,” I said.

      “I like this one!” Janie piped up.

      Cecilia’s face got all snarly and vindictive again. “I’ve hired a private investigator on asshole’s girlfriend. We’ll see what comes up on that loose, amoral, plastic Barbie doll with a mind the size and substance of a testicle.”

      We would indeed.

      We went to a bookstore next, then explored 23rd Ave in northwest Portland, which is filled with specialty shops, a few bums who converse with themselves, moms with strollers, and little plastic horses tied to steel rings on the sidewalk that were used to tie up horses a hundred years ago.

      It is part of Portland’s funkiness.

      After fifteen minutes of aimlessness, Janie returned to the hospital. “Too much stimulus, too many cracks in the sidewalk, too many colors. I don’t like the geometrics, it’s upsetting my ‘me’ balance.”

      Cecilia and I entered a coffee shop and brought our coffees to a window seat.

      “How are you, Isabelle?”

      How was I. Not bad. Not good. “Holding. In a holding pattern. Like a jet that’s not headed in a nosedive СКАЧАТЬ