What My Sister Remembered by Marilyn Sachs Read Free Book Online Page A

little bit true. I looked toward my mother. At least she should have been my ally in all this. Hadn’t I stuck up for her? But she kept her eyes away from mine and repeated, “You just do what your father tells you.”
    “Go ahead now!” He gave me a little push, and I went. Slowly. But I went.
    Beth was dressed, and combing her shiny, short hair when I came into the room. She stopped and waited.
    “I’m sorry,” I muttered.
    She still didn’t say anything, so I went on. “You’re a guest in my house, my dad says, so I have to be nice to you.”
    Beth shrugged. “You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be.”
    “Well, I don’t want to be nasty, but you ... you ... ”
    She was looking me over, up and down and sideways. Her eyes focused on my face. “You’ve been crying,” she said, with what sounded to me like pleasure.
    “No,” I protested, reaching up to wipe the leftover tears on my cheek. “It’s hot. I’m sweating.”
    Now she was smiling. “You always were a crybaby,” she said, “and you never were a very good liar.”
    “I’m not a crybaby,” I said, forcing the tears back, “and I’m not a liar either.”
    “Oh, yes, you were,” she insisted. Then she moved closer to me. “Do you remember anything?” she asked. “Anything about me?”
    “I remember ...” I began. But what did I remember about Beth? What was it?
    We stood there silently, and then, suddenly, I remembered something else. “What was it you wanted to tell me?” I asked.
    She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
    “Last night—in the middle of the night. You wanted to tell me something.”
    “Oh,” she said, “yes, I did, but ... ”
    “But what?”
    “I don’t know now,” she said, with a weird smile on her face. “It isn’t anything nice. Maybe you won’t feel good if I tell you.”
    And I didn’t want to hear it. I knew that. That weird smile on her face made me scared, very scared, and I wanted to stick my fingers in my ears and not listen. Whatever it was that Beth wanted to tell me, I didn’t want to hear.
    She stood there, watching me, waiting. I had to do something.
    “What’s your favorite color?” I asked her.
    “What?”
    “I know you don’t like pink,” I babbled. “So what color do you like?”
    She moved back and shook her head. “What is it with you?” she asked. “What kind of dumb question is that?”
    It wasn’t going to work. I was scared, so scared that my knees began trembling. I sat down on the bed. “Please, Beth,” I said. “I don’t want to be nasty. Just don’t be mean to her. I won’t be nasty if you stop being mean to her.”
    “Who are you talking about?” She came and sat down next to me.
    I didn’t answer.
    “Who?” she demanded.
    “My mom,” I told her.
     
    Chapter 6
     
    “Listen, Molly,” Beth said, “I want to tell you something that I guess you don’t remember.”
    I didn’t want to hear it. “Just don’t be nasty to my mom, Beth,” I said. “She’s had a lot of disappointments in her life, and ... please, Beth—"
    “She’s had disappointments?” Beth repeated, but not in the way I had said it. In a mean way. But I knew that if I kept on talking, she couldn’t.
    “Oh yes,” I said quickly. “You know Alex had to marry Lisa because she was pregnant, and he had to drop out of school. My mom nearly freaked out about that. She was so proud of Alex, and now he’s working as a computer repairman, and she’s afraid he won’t go back to school.”
    Beth shrugged her shoulders.
    “And then there’s Jeff.”
    Now Beth looked interested. “What about Jeff?”
    “Well, he never even finished high school. He always thought he’d be a musician, and sing and play in a band.”
    “I remember. I remember,” Beth said. “He used to have a bunch of kids over playing guitars, and there was one guy who played a trumpet.”
    “Right—and Mrs. Palagonia from upstairs kept complaining and complaining, and my mom