Twisted Sisters by Jen Lancaster Read Free Book Online Page B

be real here.
    “In fact, we’re all doing God’s work.”
    Except probably Mindy.
    Come on, it’s an almond milk latte and not the Miracle of Lourdes.
    Perfect example of what I’m talking about with this one? A couple of weeks ago, I
     was finishing up with our last pushee. We were outlining a list of coping strategies
     she could employ when her mother started to overstep her boundaries. Craft services
     had just put out lunch and the studio crew was about to descend on the buffet like
     locusts. We’d worked through breakfast and I knew my pushee was hungry, so I asked
     Mindy to bring her a plate. What does she do? She literally brings an empty plate!
    I just can’t with this one. I really just can’t.
    Wendy then recaps our show’s success stories, with the aid of a massive video screen
     behind her, playing a montage of everyone from the bulimic teen ballerina to the families
     in crisis to the hoarding grandmother. She points proudly to the screen behind her.
     “This is what happens when we push.”
    As she speaks, all the guests we’ve helped file out onstage, healthy, happy, and whole,
     and we all take to our feet. This is such a surprise! We didn’t expect to see these
     pushees again. Almost every face in the crowd is wet with tears, and I realize I’ve
     inadvertently reached for Deva’s hand.
    What can I say? I’m not immune to having a moment.
    Wendy’s voice is powerful and her words fill the room. “I sought the Lord’s guidance
     on how we can continue our important business. After much prayer, He showed me the
     solution.”
    The audience begins to raise their arms in the air, as though to testify.
    “He speaks through me!”
    Okay, I
was
having a moment, but suddenly this is getting a little too cult-y for my liking.
     I feel like any minute now the waitstaff will roll in carts of Kool-Aid and tracksuits.
     Deva and I unclasp hands.
    “
I Need a Push
has enriched my life, more so than all those years of hosting my own program. So I
     want you to hear this directly from me.”
    Everyone continues to hoot, holler, and carry on, save for Patty, Deva and me. Deva
     and I catch each other’s eye. She mouths,
What’s happening here, Reagan Bishop?
and I raise my shoulders. Deva may be on an entirely different astral plane sometimes,
     but she’s astute enough to understand that joyous news is almost never uttered after
     the phrase “I want you to hear this directly from me.”
    Consider: It’s rare that anyone will tell you,
I want you to hear this directly from me. I love you and insist on making you my wife.
Or
I want you to hear this directly from me. Here’s a check for a gorillian dollars and
     you can retire!
    The “hear it from me” is generally employed when trying to make the unpalatable more
     appetizing. It’s meant to cushion a blow, and said blow is generally delivered by
     whoever is instructing you to hear it from them in the first place. “Hear it from
     me” is far more likely to be followed by
Your mother and I are separating,
or
My test came back positive.
    Mind you, this isn’t always the case, but it is often enough that I’m a bit wary.
    “
I Need a Push
is too important for a nascent cable network.”
    This?
    I can agree with this.
    The crowd goes batshit crazy.
    Wendy milks the following words for all they’ve got. “So . . . Weeee . . . Arrrrre . . .
     Headeeeeed . . . Toooooo . . .
Networrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk!
”
    Oh, Wendy—you got me! I really didn’t expect you to deliver this kind of news! This
     is simply fantastic. Instead of languishing on some cable network no one’s even heard
     of, we’re headed to the major leagues!
In your face, Geri!
    The crowd is in such a frenzy that no one even notices when Patty stalks out of the
     room, except for Deva.
    Deva leans in to say, “We should follow her, Reagan Bishop.”
    So we do.
    •   •   •
    We’re able to track Patty because she’s left a bread-crumb trail for us. And