Page 21 of Single Girl in the City
Abi was having a hard time focusing because when Lemon-Marie raced past, she was now also naked.
Swoosh swish.“Let it go. Let it go.”
“Right. Sperm of steel, singing wands, and you losing your shit,” she teased, but the first of many tears slid down Dotti’s face.
“I’m losing my shit and you’re judging me?”
Abi shifted uncomfortably back and forth on her heels. She wasn’t exactly the affectionate type. She’d long wondered if that nurturing, maternal gene had somehow skipped her. But her sister clearly needed some kind of physical connection, so Abi rested a hand on her sister’s shoulder and gave it a pat or two, then took a step back.
“Not judging. Just trying to understand so maybe I can help.”
Dotti snorted. “How are you going to help, Abs. Besides Christmas, you haven’t been home for more than a drive-by in over five years. You barely know your niece and nephew. You pop around from one job to the next, living the life while I’m here making sure everything runs smoothly.”
Abi wouldn’t go as far as to say she was living the life. More like sticking her head in the sand and hoping that the guilt would pass her by. It hadn’t. It had only compounded. She’d come up with every excuse possible, but in the end, it was shame that kept her away.
It was always there, in the back of her mind, the dream of coming home and building a life in Portland. A real life with family close by, a circle of friends, and maybe some romance.
Only it was hard to start fresh with so many past transgressions looming overhead. That was what her good deeds had been about, but standing there watching her sister in tears, she decided that the most important good deeds were for the people in her life.
Taking in her sister’s puffy eyes and red nose, Abi pushed down some of the jealousy and resentment that had built up and made room for a healthier and more productive emotion—empathy.
“You’re right, Dot. I have been MIA, but I can try to help you now.”
“How?” Dotti asked. “Are you going to carry my could-be, most-likely-in-there baby-bean? Are you going to teach my kids to eat more than grilled cheese? Oh, wait last time you cooked you burned the grilled cheese and Hank had to hang up on an important meeting to put out the fire.”
“That was Hank!”
“It was?” Dotti shook her head as if loosening some cobwebs from the corner. “Did you give the kids my iPad during bath time?”
“Hank.”
“Did you eat the last half of my blueberry cake doughnut from Voodoo Doughnuts or use my lipsticks for drawing a picture of a castle on the sliding glass door?”
“You send Anna and Elsa on holiday and you’re going to judge me?”
“The doughnut?”
“Possibly. But I’m so exhausted from sleeping on a couch I can’t be sure.”
Dotti narrowed her eyes into two judgy slits. “And you want to help!”
“Fine. I did eat the doughnut and as for helping, how about we start small. I take over feeding the fish.”
Dotti paused, then shook her head. “I’d rather do it myself than have to flush the fourth fish down the toilet.”
“You’ve killed three? Did the kids freak out?”
“I didn’t tell them. I snuck out in the middle of the night, bought a new one, and when they asked why Fishie was smaller, I told them it was because he didn’t eat his broccoli. I murdered my kids’ first pet and lied about it.”
“Are they eating more broccoli?”
“Never miss a night. But I can’t have any aquatic funerals and I’m afraid that you’ll flake in a few weeks when you forget and kill another Fishie.”
That shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. Abi might have been flaky in the past, but she was working hard to make amends. Working hard to be better. So while she could let Dotti’s comment start a sister war, she tried to put herself in her sister’s shoes. And frankly, it sucked.
“I promise I won’t forget. And Dot, you’re not a bad mom. You’re the best mom I know.”
“Really?” Dotti sniffed.
