Read Online What My Sister Remembered by Marilyn Sachs - Free Book Online

hair.
    “It will be all right, Molly. Just a few more hours, and it will be all right.”
    “Okay,” said my dad. “Let’s get a move on. Come on, Molly. We’ll set up the fan in the dining room, and Mom says we’re all out of butter, so maybe you can run downstairs and pick some up.”
    “By myself,” I pleaded. “Can I go by myself? Please?”
    “Okay,” my dad said. I guess Beth will be on the phone for a while, if she’s anything like you. I bet you’ll be back before she’s through.”
    “She’s not anything like me,” I told him.
    * * * *
    Beth was off the phone when I came back with the butter. The kitchen was still hot and steamy, even with the fan going, and my mother’s face, as she sliced the cheese, was wet with perspiration. She smiled when she saw me. “What’s it like outside?” she asked.
    “Miserable,” I said. “Where’s Beth?”
    “In the living room with your father.” She put the butter into the refrigerator, then turned to me. “Molly,” she said, “be nice to her.”
    “I am nice to her,” I said. “I try to be nice to her, but she’s weird. Most of the time she’s mean, but sometimes she’s nice, and sometimes she acts like a baby. She was just crazy about the elevator. How can anybody be crazy about our dorky elevator?” I laughed, but my mother did not join in.
    “Just be nice to her,” she repeated. “In a few hours, it will all be over. She’ll be gone, and ... and everything will be back to normal again.” She patted my cheek. “Maybe I’ll take tomorrow off. I’m exhausted. Maybe you and I can have a day together. Maybe we can go to an air-conditioned movie and eat out.”
    “We can go to a movie,” I said, “and maybe we can eat lunch out, but not dinner.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because we’ll have some of the lasagna left over, won’t we? We can eat it cold for dinner. Daddy likes it cold just the way I do.”
    “Whatever you like, sweetheart.” Mom bent over the table again and resumed working on the cheese. “Only be nice to Beth.”
    I stood there, watching her. She looked tired and old and ... something else. Something that frightened me and made me feel I had to do something to make that scared feeling stop.
    “Mom,” I cried. “Do you need any help, Mom?”
    She looked startled. I guess I don’t usually pitch in. She straightened up and smiled at me. “What a darling girl you are, Molly! But it’s all right.” She waved me off. “Go sit down and cool off near the fan in the living room. It really makes a difference with the two fans blowing toward each other. Maybe we should get another fan.”
    “Mrs. Palagonia says she has air-conditioning in the bedroom, and the boys want to put it in the living room too. She didn’t tell me. She told Beth.”
    My mother lifted her apron and wiped her face. “This is the seventh day with temperatures in the 90’s, and I think today is the worst. I wish to God it would break already.”
    I felt sorry for my mother standing there in the hot kitchen, and I didn’t know what to do. I felt sorry for her, and for me and for—what? I felt scared and helpless, and I turned around and hurried away.
    Beth and my father were both sitting near the fan in the living room. It did feel a lot cooler with the dining room door open and both fans blowing away at each other. My father was smoking and looking uncomfortable, and Beth was talking to him. “... Nearly a year and a half now, and he doesn’t miss it anymore.”
    “Miss what?” I asked.
    Beth turned and actually smiled at me. “Smoking,” she said. “I was telling Uncle Walter how my father stopped smoking.”
    “Oh, Molly!” my father said happily. “Here you are. Tell us what it’s like outside.”
    “Hot,” I said. “Sticky, miserable, hot.” I sat down. “It’s not bad here with both fans on. Mom says we should buy another fan for the dining room.”
    “It never gets this hot in San Francisco,” Beth said. “Anyway, Molly,