I call him, sucking in my breath and biting my tongue so I won’t cry.
He hates emotion.
But he loves me. I know that. As long as I don’t cry. Continue reading
brothers and sisters
Brother, Back to the Bleachers
I could never get picked up in a bar, or even a high school gymnasium.
Not that I tried that often. I’m not a bar-hopping, party-loving kind of girl.
But still, most women, teenagers to octogenarians, want to feel attractive and desirable.
But even back when I was 16, when I hoped to catch the eye of a cute guy or two, I couldn’t even catch an eyelash, particularly – especially – of the one I had a huge crush. Continue reading
Blue Tooth Tête-à-Tête
“Mom’s hospital stay wasn’t covered?” I ask, trying to not sound as disturbed as I feel.
“No, that’s not what I said,” my brother replies, raising his voice during our blue-toothed conversation. “The hospital didn’t think she was covered.”
“How could they possibly think that?” I protest from the driver’s seat of my car. “We’ve only filled out dozens of forms in the past year with all that information.”
I hear Chuck’s groan, hundreds of miles away. He’s in Maryland driving home from work. I’m racing in my car in New England on the way to teach an evening class.
“Toll Booth in ½ mile,”
an alien-sounding female voice intones loudly from Chuck’s car, just as he says, “…called (garble garble) insurance (garble garble) card!” Continue reading
The 11th Summer of My Discontent
It all began on the Saturday of the Tri-County Swim Meet.
A glorious turquoise sky bled into the waters of the pool where people screamed in excitement as my brother won trophy after trophy, culminating in the final relay in which his incredible freestyle kick brought glory and a championship to Brookside Swim Club.
Suddenly, my skinny quiet “baby” brother became a hero. The “sport,” as our dad said over and over again, tapping my brother on top of his blonde crewcut. Continue reading
roughwighting 