(Page 3)
Mary [Ekholm] Francis
(c) 1997
Mary slowly unfolded her napkin and smoothed it on her lap. She picked up her sandwich and bit off the tip of the croissant. There wasn�t much chicken salad in that bite, but the croissant was light and buttery-tasting. She wasn�t as hungry as she had thought. She lay the sandwich on her plate and looked at Robin. They had the same green eyes with a slight upward slant toward the hairline and the same high cheekbones. Mary had a long, straight nose and fine-textured strawberry-blond hair; Robin had a small nose and thick red hair. Both women wore sunscreen all year long to keep the freckles at bay. Robin was very thin, not anorexic, just in need of a little more padding on her bones. Mary was slender, but only because she watched her diet carefully. She envied her sister�s ability to eat anything and not gain an ounce.
Robin waved her hand in front of Mary�s face. �Hello-o? You�re staring. Have I got mayo on my chin?�
Mary smiled, �Not yet. How�s your sandwich?�
�Great. And almost gone.� She looked at Mary�s croissant with only one small bite taken out of it. �Something wrong with yours?�
�No. I was just thinking.�
�You were miles away. California?�
�I wonder if anyone would guess that we�re sisters?�
�You don�t look old enough to be my mother.�
�Thanks. Do we look enough alike to be taken for sisters?�
�Does it matter?�
�No.� Mary leaned forward and looked into Robin�s eyes, �You�re so thin. I feel like I need to feed you and put some meat on your bones.�
�You sound like Momma.�
�Have you seen her lately?�
�Two weeks, I guess. Why?�
�Have you met her new boyfriend?�
�Boyfriend? New? I didn�t even know she had an �old� one.�
�She didn�t. I shouldn�t have called him �new.� He was a patient in that hospital where she volunteers.�
�And . . .�
�And they liked each other, so they met for dinner one evening after he had been discharged. And another evening. And then she had him over to the house for dinner.�
�What�s his name?�
�James something-or-other.�
�Something-or-other?�
�I can�t remember. I only heard it when Momma introduced us. After that she called him �Jim,� and so did I.�
�And . . . � Robin shook her head. �Getting information out of you is harder than pulling hen�s teeth.�
�I thought you had met Jim. I wanted to know what you thought of him. He�s not much like Daddy, but he is a gentleman.� Mary smiled. �He complained that Momma won�t let him do anything for her, not even open doors.�
�What did Momma say?�
�She just laughed and said she might let him lead when they�re out on a dance floor.�
�Did you let Michael lead when you were dancing with him?�
�What?�
�Three weeks ago. After dinner. You two said you were going to go dancing, and you invited me and Steve to go along.�
�Of course I let him lead.�
�He always has to be in charge, just like Daddy. I watched his face during dinner. His �free� room and board will cost you dearly.� Robin cocked her head and looked straight into Mary�s eyes. �Do you want to be like Momma was?�
�Don�t be silly. Michael isn�t at all like Daddy.�
Robin shrugged. �I can�t make you see. All I can do is tell you to look.� She eyed the sandwich on Mary�s plate. �You eat, and I�ll tell you about my newest project.�
�You�re done with the spoiled brat?�
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