Chapter 17

The shoes came just in time. Mom had ‘borrowed’ the first pair and they always seemed to be ‘missing’ any time Jackie wanted them.

Just saying...

I’m not accusing any one...

Yes I am. Mom is a ‘shoe horse.’

A shoe horse is like a clothes horse but feet.

Ah ... a ‘clothes horse’ is like a catalogue model. Someone who changes her outfit to suit the occasion. Shopping for groceries requires clothes she wouldn’t wear to mow the yard ... not that mom would mow ... I do that. Or clothes to clean the pool ... different outfits ... biking requires different clothes than jogging ... jogging requires different clothes than running ... requires going to the gym. Gym clothes are different ... and she has all those outfits and more ... she has clothes she’s never worn but bought ... just in case she did find herself in said situation.

She has clothes for lounging.

Lounging is not the same as sleeping.

Jackie wears my shirts for all occasions. Jackie is not a clothes horse ... Jackie is a shoe horse. Mom is a shoe horse ... two shoe horses in one house cause fights ... arguments.

I buy a lot of shirts.

Jackie doesn’t button ... she knots ... just one.

Girls are such fascinating creatures.

Sometimes I wonder what keeps her clothes from falling off. That’s not to say she doesn’t have slips ... she does. Most of the time I miss seeing the slips ... not always ... I see just enough of the slips to keep my attention on her. She might be my sister ... but there’s a bit of Edith in there. There being her head ... I’m getting myself in a hole I may not be able to get out of. Jackie/Edith/Jackie...

Jesus H. Christ, David ... she’s your sister ... what are you thinking...

No, she’s not...

Yes she is...

Nooo!

Yes!

I try ... but it’s hard to think of her as Jackie ... I don’t want to think Jackie ... I wanna think Edith and all that smooth bouncy round pointy ... fitting in the palm of my hand...

Go change your shorts...