Most of my family gathers at mother and dad's, for Sunday supper. One particular week while eating at the large indoor picnic table, the distant front door slams echoing up the vaulted foyer. We don't see her yet, but hear her and brace for her. My sweet sister Lorraine. She is as pretty as her name, feisty as the day is long, and there is a good, clear picture of her next to the words "high strung" in the dictionary. "Mom? Mom? Where are you?" Before anyone has time to answer, she is flustered in front of us.
Throwing a quick glance around the room for me, Lorraine Lea then looks back at Mom all in a tizzy. Mother smiles encouraging her vent. " This is insane! Oh my God are you serious? It's not funny. Tell me she is not doing this again, the second divorce isn't even final yet. Oh mom! Have you talked to her? Where is dad?"
No, she is not finished.
" Not to mention, the order is messed up. It is all messed up! I thought we were supposed to get married in birth order one after the other, you know, like first Lucy then Ivey, then me, then Rosemary, but oh no. No no no no no! Our family order is Lucy, Ivey, Ivey, Ivey. This has got to stop. I don't even want to get married now, but if I did there would be no time because we are all tied up, going to Ivey's weddings! You need to talk to her!"
Lorraine continues, flipping her long chestnut hair with each wave of her hand, emoting like a cartoon character. We are so obviously sisters. But don't tell her that. It makes her mad.
A LTTLE BIT OF IVEY
