I'm not Anna

When Marie and Charlie were still in Aspen and I was looking after my nephew, I took him to see Frozen. And coming out of the movie theater, I was filled with this intense sadness. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a wonderful movie, but I knew that I would never have a relationship with one of my sisters like Anna did with Elsa. I’m a bit closer to Marie, but I’ve always had this feeling that if her life was complete with maids and cooks and nannies and other friends, she wouldn’t even want me around. And Eliza, well. Any little hope I might have had in discovering Eliza to be an Elsa have been dashed away.

            The other night when I was walking down the hall to my room, I heard my name coming from Eliza’s room. I had to stop and listen (okay, eavesdrop)—not something I usually do, but hearing my name made me curious.

            Eliza was talking to the secretary, and this is what I heard:

Secretary: Your dad only bought three tickets, though.

Eliza: Yes, for the three of us. Not for Anne.

Secretary: But he said himself that the Dalrymples like family businesses, and are very old-fashioned.

Eliza: And? I’m his daughter, he’ll still look like a family man.

Secretary: Some people think it’s inappropriate for me to be living with you. And I’m sure Mrs. Dalrymple would look down on me for it, if she knew.

Eliza: What do you care what an old woman thinks of you? I like you, I like you much more than Anne. I’d prefer you accompany Dad and me.

Secretary: But she’s your sister. She’s, well, one of you.

Eliza: Perhaps we share similar DNA, but she means nothing to me. Not like you do. You’re my friend.

            I left after that. I couldn’t stand listening to another word of it. Of course, it’s not as if I haven’t figured as much on my own, but hearing Eliza say it in such an unaffected way is a lot more painful. Because, perhaps, like Anna, I’d been mistaken, and my older sister did have an underlying love for me. Now I know I’m not Anna at all, and Eliza isn’t Elsa. 

Despite everything that’s happened, all of the pain and anger my family has caused me, I’d felt loyalty to them. But ever since Mom died, it’s been getting harder and harder for me to hold onto that, because I see less and less good in them. And now, after coming here, it’s as if the loyalty I’m holding onto is my family name more than the people. I still care for Marie, but my god, how weak and pathetic is our relationship anyway?

            Sometimes I think of Hannah and Lucy and how strong their bond is, as well as the connection with Charlie and their parents, or other acquaintances of ours that have so much love for their family, and I just have to wonder why our family hasn’t gotten those same sorts of relationships. Dad and Eliza stick together because of affection, but the rest of us? Not at all.

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Baby, baby

            First, I have some exciting news from back home: Marie had her baby! Last Wednesday at 11:03 AM, my second nephew was born. Marie and the baby are doing wonderfully. They went home on Friday, and the strangest part of it all is that I haven’t received any frantic calls from Marie begging me to come back home to help her. When I talked to her yesterday, she said that her mother-in-law has been great about helping out and that even Hannah’s been lending a hand. In the past Marie hasn’t liked her in-laws getting involved, as she always claimed they did things the wrong way, but now she seems fine with it. Or at least, more fine than she has in the past. She still gets annoyed that her mother-in-law hand washes all of the dishes rather than just putting them in the dishwasher. But anyway, I’m glad that she’s doing well and that everyone’s healthy and happy.

            As the things up here well, I wouldn’t be surprised if Eliza had baby-making on her mind. I thought pushing herself into conversations between Will and me would be the crux of her attempts to get Will for herself, but oh no, she’s definitely moved beyond that. One night, we get a call on our house phone, which Eliza took, and then said it was for me, winking and saying, “he has a really sexy voice.” I went to get it, wondering who in the world it could be, since the only person I know to fit that description would definitely not be calling me. Upon answering, I found that no one was there. And then my theory began to form. I believe Eliza called the house phone on her cell and said it was for me just to get me away from Will. And indeed, in that time, Eliza managed to relocate somewhere else with Will. Dad and his secretary didn’t notice anything, and Ruth had already gone home. I didn’t feel like chasing after them, though. It seemed immature to, and I found I didn’t really care if I didn’t have Will right beside me then. I just thought that stunt was ridiculous.

            The night after that I found out from Will Eliza had told him I was seeing someone, and she convinced him to go into the front room and look and the art Mom had purchased for this house. I had to clear things up with will that no, I didn’t leave a boyfriend behind and yes, I am completely open. 

I just can’t believe Eliza went to full-out lying in order to keep Will and me away from each other. And very badly done, as well, since obviously I have no boyfriend and one sentence from me cleared it all up and made her look stupid.

            It’s ridiculous, because I haven’t even decided if I like Will. I mean, I like him, but I don’t know if I’m interested in that way. Sometimes I think there might be potential, but then there are these moments where I’m not as taken with him as everyone else is. If he and Eliza became involved, there might be some disappointment, but no heartbreak. 

            Still, I think that these schemes are backfiring on Eliza more than helping. Because as soon as I told Will I wasn’t dating anybody, he asked me if anyone had even been on the phone. When I told him what happened, Will said he expected as much, since why would a boyfriend call a home phone rather than a cell? He said, “I think Eliza needs to update her playbook from the 90s.”

            So, yeah, if Will is someone I want to be with eventually, I don’t see my sister as much of a threat.

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An old friend

I haven’t quite made up with Dad yet, and Eliza’s also upset with me, so my company has been Ruth, Will, and, this week, another old friend, a roommate from college who messaged me on Facebook the other day. When she saw that I was in the city and she lived nearby, she wanted to get together.

            I’ll call this friend Sam. Sam was my roommate the year following my mom’s death, and while I never felt ready to talk to her about it, she was always very caring to me and practically kept me alive. She moved out just before I started dating Fred, so she doesn’t really know about him.  

            Anyway, there’s been a lot of tragedy in Sam’s life. A year after college she married someone, and they moved up here to the city for his job. Only, five years ago, he got fired and they didn’t have much money and they sure didn’t have any kind of insurance. They were trying to pick up the pieces when, on a foggy morning, they got into a car accident. Sam’s husband died, and Sam has been paralyzed from the chest down. With no health insurance, no life insurance, and no savings set aside for the young couple, Sam took a huge hit to her finances. Her in-laws paid for their son’s funeral, but didn’t approve of Sam and their son marrying so young, and have left her on her own. Her dad was never in her life and her mom doesn’t have much money herself, but does what she can. Sam can’t work much. She gets by on money from her little Etsy shop, as well as disability benefits from the government. 

            It was wonderful to see her, but also so sad. She’s living in the poor and dangerous part of town, but it’s all she’s able to afford. When I first pulled up to her apartment complex, I was really worried about how safe she was and how she coped in such a place. But once I actually began talking to her, it seems like her situation is, well, it’s still not good, but after talking with her, it seems to be alright. She’s never been taken advantage of, and she has one incredible neighbor who works as a maid, and volunteers to clean her apartment and do her laundry.

            I know Sam’s in pain and her situation is not what she expected her life to be, but she’s doing okay. The couple of times I’ve been over, I’ve asked her if there was anything I could do. She says all she wants is my company, as she’s lonely most of the day. That’s what she claims, but I’m definitely going to be looking for something more I can do for her.

            Most of the time, though, we chat about other things rather than dwelling on unfortunate circumstances. It was exactly what I needed, and I think what Sam needed, too.

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Fight

According to my father, I’m out of control. It’s no wonder I’m single and completely undesirable! God forbid a woman want some respect, right?

            I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m just so furious at my dad, I can’t even think straight right now. Okay, deep calming breath, and from the beginning.

            I went along with my dad and Eliza to a business dinner. I didn’t have any other plans and I wanted to see how my dad was getting along, since he tends to have some pretty outrageous ideas and we really can’t afford to lose any business. The dinner was fine, it was some of my dad’s associates and their partners, nothing extraordinary or terrible.

            But on the way home, Dad began his criticizing. Mrs. So-and-so had gained weight, Mrs. What’s-her-name shouldn’t have cut her hair so short, Mr. Whatever had a bald spot forming. Everyone’s looks were scrutinized, and I found it hard to stay quiet like I usually did. Dad tried to compliment me and say that I looked five years younger thanks to that anti-aging cream he gave me for Christmas—which, by the way, I have yet to use—and Ms. Whoever could take a page from my book.

            His suggestion that I was somehow better than the people we had just had dinner with set me off. Looks aren’t all there are to a person, and we have no right to criticize someone for how they choose to live their life, which I let him know. I also told him that I found his Christmas gift demeaning and insulting, and that some crow’s feet weren’t going to affect my state of happiness.

            Dad laughed at me, called me naïve, and said that one’s first impression came from one’s appearance, and to not pay attention to every aspect of one’s physical appearance meant that they had no self-respect.

            And then…it got really ugly. I said, “That attitude you have is what killed Mom before she was even dead.” Dad got red-faced and puffy and asked what I meant by it. I screamed out about how I’d seen why Dad had done to Mom. How she denied herself any fattening food in favor of working out more because she had to stay thin, for him. She would slather on creams, and force herself to keep on her high heels despite the blisters and blood on her feet, all to please him. She smiled, but it rarely reached her eyes, because she was doing so much to make him happy, she made herself miserable. 

And then, when she was bald and skinny and pale—he refused to show any affection toward her. They slept in separate rooms, supposedly for her own good, but really only so that he didn’t have to see her. It still hurts me to remember how excited she was to be feeling well and able to go out for the first time in weeks, and how her face fell to find Eliza had taken her place by Dad’s side for a party. She didn’t smile at all those last few years of her life, because Dad had been so preoccupied with what her cancer had done to her body, he failed to nurture her soul, to love her.

            That’s when Dad got into me. Told me I had only been a child, unable to see truth and instead, as an adult, had made up fantasies based off of those stupid movies I liked to watch. He said that my lack of care for my appearance is what has made me so repulsive to men, and now, with this new lip I was forming, would ensure that even a blind man wouldn’t dare be with me. Without control, I’d never be someone’s wife.

            We’d pulled up to our house at that point. I said I’d rather be alone forever than to ever give up my independence and opinions, then got out of the car and hurried up into my room, listening to a lot of angry music (well, angry for me).

            And now I remember why I stopped living with my dad. I mean, I’d never exploded at him like that, though I honestly always wanted to, but he always made me so upset at how he viewed other people, how he treated Mom. It’s making me wonder if this, moving in the city with him and Eliza, was even a good idea.

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Worries

            Ruth has made it here! She took some time to get everything squared away, but now that she’s here, I really feel at home in the city. I’ve told her about Will, and she’s very excited at the prospect of him, but hasn’t pushed it since she hasn’t met him yet and wants to judge for herself. Tonight they’re both coming for dinner so I’ll see what her opinion is then.

            But there is something that Ruth and I have been able to discuss, and that is Dad’s secretary, the twice-divorced-before-thirty, weaseled-into-her-boss’s-personal-life, flirtatious secretary. Now, they’re not together, at least not publically, or even to any of us. But I can tell the secretary hasn’t given up. She puts her hands on Dad whenever she gets the chance and laughs at his lame jokes and bends at all the right times and all the right angles—and that’s just what I’ve seen. For a man who’s been living with her for almost six months, Dad seems rather unperturbed about it, and I haven’t found anything to suspect any action on his part…but his gaze lingers. He likes it when she laughs at his jokes and he’s often complimenting her on how she looks. I think he’s wearing down.

            Ruth has said he wouldn’t do anything that would replace Eliza, and that someone as poor and nameless as his secretary wouldn’t be much of an enticement, but I’m not so sure. He has always wanted a son.

            I really wouldn’t mind Dad re-marrying, but his secretary? And it’s not because she’s middle class or anything like that, I mean, I was willing to marry Fred when he had nothing. I just don’t trust her. I doubt she has any true affection for my dad, and I worry about how extreme she would spend money if she came into a lot of it. We’ve had to be so careful these past six months with money, I’d hate for all of that progress to mean nothing because my father becomes someone’s sugar daddy.

            Whenever I’m around Dad and his secretary, I can’t help but wonder if I should be worried. It doesn’t seem likely anything will happen, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t. I just wish I could trust Dad to make good decisions, but unfortunately he doesn’t have a track record for it.

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