Sister Pearls

Sheila twisted the top of the Dove moisturizer until her fingers were red. Her mouth squeezed into a tight lock of frustration, and then she threw the jar. It exploded and the cream splattered across the tropical, Florida hotel wallpaper like clumps of white mud. Pieces of shattered glass cracked into a small pile in the corner between the tub and the toilet. She shook her head, left the mess for the housekeeper to sweep up. She examined her face in the flat mirror. Her chopped-up auburn hair waved in different directions. Sheila rubbed her neck where a huge rash slithered across her neck. “Calm down, Sheila.” Her cleavage popped out of the black satin gown. “You’re tits look like a baby’s ass.” Sadness blended into her light brown eyes as she gazed down and strangled the dress around her belly.

A wet towel snaked around her ankles. Sheila picked it up with her toes like a contortionist, grabbed the corner and flipped it into the tub. “Ouch, damn.” She stepped on a tiny splinter of glass. She slapped down the toilet seat, plopped on the edge, crossed her foot and tugged the small piece out from her big toe. A minute droplet of blood seeped through her stocking. She spat on her hand and wiped it. A dot of a tear started to pull at the hosiery. “For god’s sake.” Sheila grabbed the pink nail polish and dabbed it on the rip. “Damn.” She placed the polish back, slumped over and cried. Soft whimpers turned into short grunts. She glanced over at the magnifying mirror on the counter and patted her eyes dry and stroked another coat of mascara on. Sheila blinked as if lost in a fog. She pinched her cheek, laughed. “Always a lady.” She leaned forward, slid her dress up and fumbled with her pantyhose.

The door suddenly swung open, “What’s wrong with you? Why’d you leave like a maniac?” It was Nancy.

Sheila let her dress drop then kept applying make-up. She couldn’t look at Nancy’s natural blonde hair, her flat stomach, her high cheek bones, the pretty sister, the one who resembled mom. “Oh you look just like your mother. So, pretty.” How many times did Sheila hear that comment from her mother’s card-playing cronies As an afterthought one of the gin ladies would say, “Oh, Sheila, such a sweetie.” Sheila straightened up. She wasn’t going to demean herself with that memory. With a quick sigh she forced a cold smile. “What’s up?”

Nancy’s Chanel 5 five swept through the bathroom. “Are you crazy? There are two hundred people waiting for me on the beach to get married.”

Sheila breathed, braved a long glance at her sister. Nancy’s wedding dress shaped her body into perfection of silk, pearls and rhinestones. Sheila picked up a brush and highlighted her cheeks with a dash of blush. “You look out of a fairytale.”

Nancy lifted the hem of her dress and snatched Shelia by the wrist. “The photographer is waiting.”

“Oh, I should smile pretty for the camera?”

Nancy bent down, stroked Sheila’s face, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Are those mom’s pearls?” Sheila grabbed Nancy’s hands.

Nancy broke free and wiped a smudge of black from under Sheila’s eye. “What are you talking about? Snap out of it. You’re my Matron of Honor. Get off your ass.”

“Come here.” Sheila waved to Nancy to sit on her lap.

“What’s this now? Nancy climbed into Sheila’s fold and placed her head on her shoulder.

“Remember when mom and dad went out we’d dress up and put on mom’s jewelry and long gowns and pretend to be grown up? Sheila tapped each pearl as if she was playing a piano. “Remember I’d always say, ‘I want mommy’s pearls when I get married?’”

Nancy played with Sheila’s bangs, pushed them to the side. “Those were fun days. Weren’t they?”

Sheila closed her eyes, “Sometimes. Sometimes.” Then opened her eyes watched her sister smile, remembering. She softened her touch against her sister’s hand. “Why’d you take the pearls?”

“The pearls, the damn pearls. You were the big sister. So I got the pearls.”

Sheila slapped her sister’s hand away. “Crazy liar. I fought mom for those pearls. Mom kept arguing the gold bracelet suited me better. And that was that.”

Nancy stood up, smoothed the crinkle in her dress, and leaned against the door. “I made mom promise them to me for my wedding day.”

Sheila quivered a half smile, “What do you mean, when? Where was I?”

“This is my day, not yours.” Nancy stomped away. “It was mom’s choice.” Nancy raced through the bedroom, past the living area and the modern edged black couch. “Sheila. I’m warning you, don’t start.”

“What do you think I’m going to do? “ Sheila caught her by the arm and led her to the couch. “Sit down.”

“For a second.” Nancy slid her hand into Sheila’s.

They sat down, their dresses expanded like a garden of satin and lace. Both stared at each other. Sheila wondered if she’d ever totally trust her sister again. Oh, not because of the pearls, but for the fact that their mother favored her. As soon as Nancy was born all bright eye and busy tailed, Sheila became the child that played in the shadows. Sheila never had the spunk and energy that Nancy was born with. She was more silent, more engaged in trees that talked to her and clouds that shaped into flowers and angels.

Sheila sighed, “Why do you do these things to me?”

“I don’t do anything to you.” Nancy held down the puff of her gown.

A knock on the door diverted their attention. “Housecleaning.”

Sheila raised her voice. “We’re fine. Come back later.”

“Okay. Our little talk over? I want to get married.”

“I want the pearls.” A cloud shaded the sun and shadows spread across the room. The crystal vase that sat on the white desk held a lone rose that curved into the silky light. Sheila tilted her head. “It might rain.”

“Why are you wishing that on me? You want my wedding to be ruined?” Nancy sprang up, walked over to the window. Her gown swished against her ankles. She pulled the gold curtains aside and stared out and up. “I better get down there, talk to George, make sure the in case it might rain back up plan is in effect. I should have known better than to plan a wedding in the summertime in Florida.

“Yes, but you demanded a beach side ceremony. You demanded Naples at the Ritz. You demanded everyone wear their hair up, when you know I have short hair.” Sheila placed her hands by her side. “Even this dress, black. What Matron of Honor wears black?”

“And for that matter. It’s look tight on you. Did you gain weight?”

“Sheila you’ve been a pain in my ass from the day you were born.” Sheila’s eyes widened, she slapped a hand over her mouth.”

“You mean that, don’t you?” Nancy barely turned her head toward Sheila.

“No. No. I didn’t. I just wanted those pearls. Just that one thing Nancy.”

“You do mean it. I’ve felt it my whole life.”

“And how do you think I’ve felt my whole life trying so hard all the time to not fall between the cracks of invisibility?” Sheila fingers dug into the couch.

“You know. You’re doing it. You’re doing it. This isn’t the time or place. I came here to get you downstairs. I left my own wedding party. Family photos. Happy family photos. That’s what I want. Now.” Nancy started to cry.

“Oh no. Don’t pull the tear trick. I know you don’t give a shit.”

Nancy turned full face toward Sheila, knocked over the vase with the rose. It crashed and water trickled across the beige carpet. “You’re right. I don’t give a shit. Why should I?” Nancy spun around and marched toward the door. The trail of her gown obediently followed her. “Why should I? Do you know what it feels like to have your older sister jealous of you? Do you?”

Sheila leapt off the couch, ran after her sister and reached for the pearls. For a moment, time stood still, both locked eyes, as they crashed into each other. Nancy struggled against, attempted to stop Sheila from snatching the pearls. “No. Nancy. No. It wasn’t like that. I just wanted you to be my sister. Stop that cutesy act with mom and dad and give me some respect, a morsel of consideration. ”

The two lost balance. They fell to the floor holding tight to the other, and then both landed side by side, trying to protect the other from hitting their heads against the table. Sheila opened her palm, the pearls lay broken in her hand.

Nancy smacked Sheila’s hand and the pearls flew across the room.

Suddenly, Sheila screamed in pain. “Something is wrong. Oh my god.” She sat up, grabbed her stomach, crunched over in agony.

Nancy bent over and grabbed Sheila, “What’s happening. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I don’t…Oh god, Nancy, the pain is excruciating.” Sheila put her hand under her dress. “I’m bleeding. I’m bleeding!” She ripped her stockings off. “Sheila, damn, Sheila, help me get this dress of.” Again, she yelped, started to sob.

Nancy rolled over and pushed herself up. She ran over to the phone. “Help. Send a doctor, medics, anyone, hurry.” She slammed the phone down. She hugged herself and trembled. “Sheila, I don’t know what to do.” She plopped down, her gown exploded around her body. She started to cry. “Ouch.” She groped under her dress. The pearls were stuck to her back of her legs. She picked two out from her skin, held them in her hand and stared at them, and crawled over to her sister, zipped the dress down, helped her undress. Blood circled around Sheila’s hips and between her legs.

“Are you…are you… pregnant? Holy, shit, are you pregnant? Why didn’t you say anything?” Nancy tossed the dress aside. “Hold these.” Cupped the pearls into Sheila’s hand. She gripped the edge of the table and dragged herself upright. “I’ll get towels. I’ll get towels.” She sloshed away. “They’re coming. Hold on.” She disappeared into the bathroom.

Sheila opened her hand. The two pearls were smooth and creamy. For a moment her pain stood still. Froze in time. She was a little girl laughing, playing with her sister, dress up. But, only for a moment, the deep gorging ache caused her to shrill out like a lost kitten hungry for milk.

Nancy rushed to her sister snuggled the towel tight between her thighs. She held Sheila, wrapped her arms and legs around her. “You’ve ruined my wedding.

Sheila gave her a pearl, and kept the other. “You ruined mine.”

They held each other, rocked, and cried in each other’s embrace.