She would deal with Mark's mess when she had to, and
wouldn't let him upset her.
Her thoughts drifted to her sister, the bigger problem in
her life. Rebecca wasn't sure she wanted to share all of her
issues about Lauren, and even felt a little guilty making him
work so hard to talk. But she decided to try-he might have
something useful to say. If his advice about Lauren was
anywhere as accurate as his advice about Mark, she would
be delighted.
"Do you want to hear about my sister now?"
"Hit me." Rebecca laughed at the expression,
particularly appropriate after someone had done just that to
him, only a week ago.
"There's just the two of us in the family. Lauren's three
years older. And she always put me down. Criticized my
actions, clothes, and appearance. She used to call me an
ugly goose. . ."
O.E. cut her off as loudly as possible through gritted
teeth. "She lies!"
"Yeah, I know. But she used to chant that all the time
when I was young. 'Little Becky, ugly goose.' God, I hated
that. Any act of kindness from her was merely a setup for
her do something mean."
Rebecca grunted. "You remember that horrible pink
bridesmaid dress from the wedding? Well, the funny thing
is that it wasn't the first time I wore a ridiculous pink dress.
The first time was when I was a kid." She exhaled noisily.
"I remember the day Lauren suggested that we make a
dress from leftover pink gift-wrap paper, cut and stapled
together. It was supposed to be some sort of peace offering
on her part, an attempt to act nice. But I knew better. When
the paper dress was finished, she forced me to put it on,
then grabbed my real clothes and wouldn't return them.
She teased me about my homely face, my stupid red hair,
my childish outfits, and whatever other ammunition she
could use, constantly chanting, 'Little Becky, ugly goose.'"
Rebecca sniffled. "She chased me all over the house and
swiped at the dress. When she'd managed to rip it to shreds,
she wandered off. I can still remember crying on the
kitchen floor in my underwear, shreds of pink paper
everywhere."
O.E. moaned lightly, an offer of sympathy. "No
parents?"
"They were never around. Mom worked all day in a
supermarket, and Dad worked all night in a tannery. Most
of the time, they were either asleep or gone. So Lauren
ruled most of my youth. If she wanted me to wear a pink
paper dress, I did." Rebecca paused, then managed to
chuckle lightly. "I'll tell you one thing: pink is not my color.