It's. Nice. Outside.

“Men are the root of all evil. They suck,” Karen said. “Especially Roger.”


“He really sucks,” Mindy said. “It doesn’t surprise me what you said about his dick.”

“The crooked banana? Yeah, that was weird. I used to close my eyes when he got a boner. It was scary.”

“You know, I don’t need to hear all this. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep like this,” Mindy said. She was sagging toward Karen.

“You two are both going to feel like hell tomorrow.”

“We’ll survive,” Karen said.

“Yeah, my big bad older sister is tough. She’s a tough bitch. I wish I were as tough as my big, bad, bitchy, bossy, beautiful, bitchy…”

“You said that already,” Karen said.

“Older bitchy but beautiful older sister who’s bitchy.”

“You said that already.”

“You’re the one who should have gone into show business. I should have followed my passion.”

“Passion?” Karen mumbled.

“Hamsters. Hamsters love me. I could have been like that woman with all those apes. Living in a jungle with, like, all these jungle hamsters. A herd of them.”

“Jane Goodall,” Karen said.

“Yes. Her.” Mindy burped. “You know, I never told you this, but I think it’s time I do.”

Karen was slipping down her pillow. “What?”

“In high school, at WT, I used to sell your panties to guys on the football team.”

Karen’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

I pulled the shirt away from my mouth. “You did what?”

“Yeah, I made like ten bucks a pop, or pair. Those guys were such fucking creeps.”

“That’s why I never had any,” Karen said.

“Yeah. That’s why.”

I was understandably horrified by all of this. “What is wrong with you? Why would you do something like that?”

“I needed the money. Someone had to support those hamsters. I wanted them to go to college.”

“I never had any panties in high school,” Karen said. “Mom was always yelling at me, asking me what I was doing with them. I thought I was going crazy. Mom used to make me write my name on them to keep track of them.”

“I know. I got, like twenty bucks for the signed ones. I mean, autographed panties from Karen Nichols, head cheerleader. Come on, it was a steal.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Karen said.

“I can’t believe you never figured it out. Didn’t you think it was strange that I always wanted to go panty shopping with you? Who wants to go panty shopping with her sister? Who wants to go panty shopping, period?”

“I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything anymore. Which is good, sometimes. We had pretty fucked-up lives at home.”

“Really fucked-up. Like, reality-TV fucked-up.”

“Your lives weren’t that bad,” I said.

“We had a crazy house, Dad. A crazy house,” Mindy said. “Do you remember Silent Nights?”

“Yes,” I said softly.

Mindy was referring to the darkest part of the War Years, when the blitzkrieg raged. We were experimenting with Ethan’s medications, and things weren’t taking. His tantrums were worse than ever, and the slightest thing would set him off. Desperate, we agreed to keep all noise—TVs, radios, and even talking—to a bare minimum. Consequently, we turned into a house of mimes, pointing to things we wanted, rubbing our stomachs when we were hungry, waving hello, good-bye, clasping our hands together and holding them close to our heads when we wanted to sleep. The whole thing was tragically ridiculous and, to make matters worse, it didn’t work.

“We survived,” Karen said.

“Kind of,” Mindy said.

“You two both turned out fine.” I reached over and turned the lights off.

“Who do you love more?” Mindy asked. “Be honest. Karen can take it.”

“Lie down now. Lie on your stomachs.”

They slid down on their backs so I had to turn each of them over.

“Good night, girls.” I kissed them both on the tops of their heads.

“Where’s Stinky Bear?” Mindy said, her voice muffled by the pillow. “Where Stinky. Bear. Be?”

“Go to sleep.”

“I miss Ethan,” Karen said.

“Yeah, so do I. Where’s his room?” Mindy said. “Get him in here. I miss the big galoot. He always smells so clean.”

“Because I’m always giving him baths.”

“I love him,” Mindy said. “Every time I think I am incapable of love, I think about him. I think, man, I love him, like a pure love, so there, I’m not as fucked-up as I think. Ethan kind of makes me normal. He makes me be nice. I’m not a nice person, but around him, I’m not that bad.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying. That’s his thing,” Karen said. “He gives you a chance to be nice. Ethan gives everyone a chance to be nice.”

“Sometimes I think that without him, we’d all, like, fall apart. He’s, like, our center or something. Hey, Dad, do you really think you can leave him? Just leave him like that?”

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