Page 31 of Pity Present

Ellen may drive me totally insane ninety percent of the time, but the truth is I really do love her and I’m lucky to have her. “I love you, Ellen.”

She seems surprised by the declaration. “Seeing that loser really bothered you, didn’t it?”

Sliding under the covers, I lean against the pile of pillows behind me. “Yes and no. Part of me is surprised I haven’t run into him before now, so I guess it’s a relief to have it over with.”

“I used to dream about seeing him in a crosswalk and mowing him down.”

That sounds like a fantasy I used to have.

She continues, “But then I started watchingOrange is the New Blackand I realized I wouldn’t do well in prison.”

A burst of laughter erupts out of me. “I don’t know, Ellen. I think you’d be running Cell Block C within a week.”

“For sure,” she says. “But the lack of sunshine would make medepressed and that would cause me to eat twice as much as I already do and before you know it, I’d be too fat to get out of bed.”

“That’s your worry about going to jail? Getting fat?”

Ellen sighs. “That’s my worry about getting up every morning.”

I hate that we live in a world where women spend so much time being anxious about their weight. We carry the cross of our appearance like the whole planet would fall out of orbit if we suddenly decided to accept ourselves. “You aren’t fat, Ellen.”

“Not in the sense that I can’t fit through a doorway, but let’s face it, I’m no string bean.”

“And why would you want to be?” I ask. “Women who starve themselves to be thin have to be totally miserable.”

“There are some who are naturally skinny, you know.”

“And as much as it pains me to ask this, why aren’t we happy for them? Shouldn’t we have each other’s backs?”

“Molly, is this you? Have you been alien abducted and replaced by a cyborg?”

She’s right. I’ve been known to be critical about some things and one of those has been women who can eat anything they want and not gain weight. But after tonight, I’m feeling a little kinder toward humanity. After all, a lot of the women at the mixer were very thin, and they were at a singles’ mixer. “Life is hard for everyone, and I don’t want to be a part of tearing people down anymore.”

“That’s very mature of you,” my sister says. “But I’m still disappointed. I’ve always been able to count on you as my partner to grouse with.”

Changing the subject, I ask, “What did you get Mom and Dad for Christmas?”

“Tickets to Bermuda,” she says. “Mom claims she doesn’t like to travel much anymore but I know she’d do practically anything to get away from a Chicago winter for a couple of weeks. What did you get them?”

“Matching snowsuits so they can get the mail together.” Then a thought hits me. “I have a vacation voucher for a resort I worked at in Bermuda. Text me the dates of their airline tickets and I’ll see if I can’t get their hotel comped.”

“Nice! Maybe you and I should plan a sisters’ getaway this winter if we can find a time that works for both of us,” she suggests.

I wouldn’t hate that. Ellen can be intense, but we do share the same family. It’s nice to have somebody who knows how you got to be the person you currently are. “Let’s sit down with our calendars soon,” I tell her.

I hear someone in the hallway and immediately wonder if it’s Blake. I don’t know why I should care, given his blatant disregard of me, but even so, I get out of bed and hurry to the door. Cracking it open slightly, I peek out and find him standing in front of his door. He turns and says, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Who are you talking to?” Ellen wants to know.

“The maid,” I tell her before offering Blake a small wave. Then I close my door again.

“Did she bring by more towels or something?” Ellen asks.

“Who?”

“The maid.”

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