Dear Journal:
We celebrated the 4th with a BBQ on the back patio. Dad grilled burgers and invited friends from work: Matt and Molly Neilsen and their kids, Mark and Maggie. I don’t know what it is with folks naming kids with the same letter names, but it’s rampant in this part of the country. Anyway, the kids were quite a bit younger than Michelle and me (6 and 8, I think), but as the only child without an “M” name, I still felt like the odd one out.
Typical.
Still, it didn’t take long for us to bond. I’m good with kids and, after showing them the magic of sparklers, their early preference for Michelle was forgotten. Michelle was too busy doing the sullen teenager thing to bother anyway. She kept checking her phone, as if expecting a call that would save her from family time.
Everyone, save sissy, was having a good time, until Dad saw the ass-sized hole in the Chaise. “What the hell happened here?” he asked. Then he looked right at me.
Again, typical.
There would have been some early fireworks, but Mom stepped in. “Oh, Walt,” she said. “I’ve been telling you we need to replace those for months.”
“Jessie, you and your sister go get some chairs from inside,” Dad directed, using his BBQ tongs like a pointer.
I huffed inside with Michelle in tow. As we brought out chairs, one by one, I seethed. I’m sure Mom thought she was protecting me, and I’m sure Dad still thought I was somehow responsible.
All while sissy stayed in silence.
“Move your fat ass,” I muttered as I pushed past Michelle with a chair as she came inside for another. I didn’t wait for her response, but I could tell by the daggers she stared at me upon her return that she had heard and I would pay for it later.
I didn’t care, though. I was pissed.
I was proud of myself for saying something, however. So much so that by the time the other person I was pissed at spoke to me again, all had been forgiven.
We were sitting in a circle, devouring our burgers, when I noticed Dad staring at me. I cocked my head in a “what?” motion since I couldn’t speak with my mouth full.
“You look really pretty tonight, Jessie,” Dad said. He was squinting a little, as if to get me in better focus. He was already on his 4th beer.
“Thanks,” I said, covering my mouth with my napkin. I wanted to cover my entire head with it.
For what it’s worth, I thought I looked pretty, too. I was wearing that new sundress and had added a dash of makeup to complement my sun-kissed complexion. But I wasn’t comfortable getting called out in front of strangers. As everyone turned to me, smiling and nodding appreciatively, I’m sure my complexion turned from sun-kissed to sun-soaked.
It was cool in hindsight, though. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat silently while Dad fawned over Michelle’s looks. I’m not stupid; I know Michelle is still objectively prettier than me. Still, it was nice…especially the way sissy tucked into her burger with renewed vigor afterward.
The tables are beginning to turn.
--Jessie