Anyway, I don’t know why she needed such a drastic change, but apparently, according to her, she did. Under the surface, she’s the same May I grew up with, but that’s where the girl I knew ends. Outwardly, she’s more confident. She seems more . . . grown-up. But at the same time, she’s younger too. She walks with a spring in her step. She’s always smiling. She’s sillier than ever, and she claims to be in love with a guy she hardly knows.
Ugh. Sometimes I want to slap her and wake her up to what’s really going on. Chemicals. Lust. It’s powerful stuff, I get it, but I mean, come on . . . I live in the real world, where you can fall in love with a guy over a period of years, build a life with him, and still have him walk out on you. Love at first sight? Nope. Doesn’t happen. It’s not real. It’s an illusion cooked up by too many misguided chick flicks and not enough real-world pain.
It’s not that I’m jealous or don’t want my sister to be happy; I’m just worried about the day she’ll come crashing down to reality and realize she’s been living in a fantasy world of her own creation, because I’m not sure either of us is prepared for that kind of devastation.
She is happy, though—for now, anyway. So I’m not saying anything negative to her about this love affair of hers. I’m not going to be the big jerk who’s trying to ruin everything. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from worrying. Not only is she risking her heart in this whole deal, she’s also risking her life with this new job. And guess who’ll be the one picking up the pieces when it all falls apart? Yeah. That’ll be me.
She’s working with the security company her boyfriend owns as their surveillance expert—not that she had any kind of experience whatsoever prior to being hired—and now she photographs bad guys for a living. My sweet little sister, a former straight-A student who still wears her hair in a headband and espadrilles on her feet, is hanging out in the very worst neighborhoods of New Orleans, dodging bullets. As if I needed that kind of stress in my life.
I take another deep breath in and out, trying to calm my blood pressure. Relax, Jenny. This is just another day to get through without Hulking-out on someone. You can do this.
I turn around and shuffle in my ratty slippers down the hall and around the corner to the kitchen. From the fridge I pull a half bottle of Chardonnay and pour myself a generous glass. It’s only four o’clock, but one time zone away it’s five, so I’m getting started. Who cares that these are calories I most definitely do not need? It’s not like I’m going to be out dating anytime soon. Dating requires free time, and I have precious little of that.
My phone buzzes again. I swig my wine like it’s an ice-cold beer and remove my phone from my pocket as I wince. Damn, that wine is going down hard. Probably shouldn’t have Big-Gulped it. I let out a little burp as I take a look at my screen. There are four texts waiting for me.
May: I need to talk to u. Call me.
May: Are u there? Are the kids gone yet? Are u drinking wine yet?
May: Don’t get tipsy! I need to talk to u.
May: Are u avoiding me? I know u can hear my texts. Ur phone’s either beeping or buzzing, bitch. Don’t play.
I shake my head and take another sip of my wine, this portion a little smaller than the one before. I’m totally Zen all of sudden.
It’s this weird thing that happens between my sister and me; when she’s in panic mode, it instantly chills me out. Because I’m her big sister, my automatic response to her being in crisis is to woman-up, to be protective, to take care of things, and to make sure the entire world isn’t going to fall apart right along with her. I crumble to pieces after, when the danger has passed, where no one can see me.
It’s the role I’ve played for her all our lives. When we were younger and the crap hit the fan at home with our parents, I was always there, stroking her hair and telling her it was going to be fine while she cried and moaned about how terrible our lives were. I had my own breakdowns later, when no one was around to witness them. I never wanted my sister to suffer on my account. It’s like Big Sister Code or something to take the hits.