Sister（s）
*
Genetic friend and babysitter.
“I had to force Jean to leave by telling her which hotel Jason was staying at.” Louisa grimaced as she entered the kitchen and opened my fridge.
I winced. “Do we need to be ready to go to the hospital?”
Louisa snorted as she perused the fridge. “More likely a morgue.”
She pulled out a bottle of white wine, and I raised a brow. “You’re nursing.”
She unscrewed the top, pouring it into a plastic cup drying on the rack. The faded logo from some old work event was barely visible.
She sipped it and shook her head. “Man invented pumps, Bree. Christy is watching the kids. I’m staying here tonight.”
“The fuck you are!” I blurted out.
Louisa studied me, and I felt uncomfortable under her gaze. She was a mirror image of our mother. Well, of what our mother used to be. Medium-length brown hair peppered with wisps of gray, her large brown eyes, and olive skin.
I wanted her out of my home.
“You need more wine. Let’s go walk to the liquor store.”
I pressed my fingers to my brow. This was the most Soot family interaction in history. It just required board games, someone being called fat, and tears.
“Louisa, why are you here?”
Louisa poured the remainder of the bottle into another plastic cup and forced it into my hands. She frowned. “I asked for your help. You ignored me. So, I got help on my own and decided I wanted to see how perfect, professional Brianna lives. Away from our problems.”
I set the cup down on our drink cart. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Louisa walked up to me, her diminutive form slightly towering over me. “I’ve literally had to listen to Mom and Dad talk about how wonderful it is that you are getting out of Kansas City, that you are going to see the world. Forgive me for not being annoyed.”
That felt very unlikely. My parents never praised me. Praise came with a transaction. I looked at her tight shoulders, seeing a feeling I recognized—exhaustion.
Ah, yeah…
“Louie.” I sighed, using her nickname from when I was a toddler and the “s” sound was too hard. “They are using me against you.”
Louisa arched a brow. “Explain, highly educated one.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my cup, motioning for her to follow me to the living room. We sat on the sofa, and I reached for her hand. She recoiled, and I was reminded of how broken we all were.
“You get to avoid these games since you live eight hours away. But they are talking up the child who is not there when the others are around to make you guys try harder for them.”
Louisa frowned. “Wait, what?”
I sipped my wine, feeling it burn down my throat.
God, even cheap, stale wine made this better.
“Haven’t you ever noticed that when Mom is insecure about something, she mentions how wonderful someone else is? It forces everyone to praise her and say the other person isn’t better.”
Louisa’s realization started to hit. I expected her to know all this, with her seven years of additional existence over me. Why was I the keeper of the Rosetta Stone to their narcissism?
She scowled, downing her wine. “That’s so gross.”
I nodded. “It is.”
I finished my wine, feeling the cooling night wind roll through my patio door screen. I grimaced at my calming night being ruined by this interruption.
Then, Louisa stood up, shaking her hands. “Well, let’s mosey to the store!”
I shook my head. “Louisa, I love you, but I’m not thrilled with you.”
She crossed her arms. “Are you wanting me to say I’m sorry?”
“Would you mean it?”
Louisa clicked her tongue at me and sat back down. She leaned her head on the back of the sofa, complaining, “I haven’t had a night alone in nearly eight years, Bree. I don’t want us to fight.”
I mirrored her, my head lying back, turning my face to her. “Then tell me why you said it, and I’ll see if I can accept your apology.”
Louisa snorted and sighed. “I was frustrated. After you left, Jean riled me up. She reminded me that you were going to leave us all to deal with this, move on with your perfect life. And you dropped the bomb on us on your way out.”
I hesitated. Why did it feel like this was my first time talking to Louisa?
“I’m a bit surprised by all of this. I thought you all hated me.”
Louisa turned and placed a hand on my cheek. I smiled weakly as she lightly patted it. “Babe, we don’t hate each other. We don’t know how to love correctly”
We looked at each other in silence as I took a deep breath. Our parents had done a number on us. Maybe, just maybe, this could be different—
Then Louisa jumped up.
The sweet conversation I was mulling over died on my lips. “That’s it?”
Louisa groaned and looked up at the ceiling. “What more do you want?”
I stood up, facing her. “For once in your life, apologize for your actions, Louie!”
She reached into that tote-sized purse she always carried and groaned. “I’m sorry, Bree. I was mad, Jean riled me up, and I acted bitchy. I know you didn’t mean to make Mom cry and leave me to care for her.”
I froze as she laughed. “Oh, you didn’t realize that’s all I do? You may think I don’t apologize for my actions, but I apologize for all of you. Constantly.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a credit card and an ID. “That’s my job. Jason gets to be loved. Jean gets to be whatever tornado she wants. Matt gets to be the family bank. You get to be our hope for the future. Eddy gets to be the kid. But me? I’m the backbone of this fucking family.”
I chewed on her words. My life flashed before my eyes.
Louisa wasn’t praised; she was expected. She didn’t drive eight hours for an award—she did it because she had no choice. She had never had a choice.
Louisa shifted awkwardly on her feet. She was waiting for the pin to drop and for me to fight with her. This was the first time she’d ever been able to express how she felt.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. Louisa tensed and then relaxed, wrapping her arms around me too. I could feel tears filling my eyes and murmured, “I’m so sorry, Louie.”
She tilted her head to rest it on mine as she kissed my forehead. She murmured, “It’s okay, Bree-Bree. This is my job. I’ll live vicariously through you.”
I looked up and shook my head. “You shouldn’t have to.”
Tears were forming in my eyes as she shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong. That’s why I exist. I like being needed. I just needed a moment of being the little sister for a bit.”
I choked down a sob that was broken with a laugh as she squeezed me tighter. She mumbled into my hair, “Man, you are a lightweight now. Typically, it takes you a whole bottle of wine to start crying.”
I snorted, and for once in my adult life, I didn’t hate Louisa.