waiting for them. There’s a rambling message from Izzy—he heard the phone, but he was on the toilet. They play back the voicemail: Izzy talking excitedly. She’s in Western Mass. Soon as she takes care of some business, she’s pulling an all-nighter and driving to Ill-y-noise. Izzy’s voice cracks. Ay, Papi, I miss him so much. Anyhow, she concludes, I’m hoping to arrive in time to celebrate Antonia’s birthday. It’s a surprise. Don’t tell her, okay?
Tilly and Antonia look at each other and burst out laughing. Your sister, Tilly says, shaking her head. It’s how they refer to the outlier sister of the moment, as if she’s for another sister to claim. Recently, it’s almost always Izzy.
Tilly sighs, shaking her head. So much for their two-sister one-on-one. But what can they do if a sister invites herself along, as often happens when two meet up, the increased magnetic force drawing the others?
Why not just go ahead and ask Mona to come, too? Tilly proposes. They need to be together and rescue Izzy, get her back on track. Sixty-six and living like a burnt-out hippie in other people’s houses. And now that she might have sold her own, she’ll be even more rootless. She needs grounding, a home, a companion, medication.
Tilly and Antonia try calling Mona to suggest the plan—but their sister is not available to take their call. It’s urgent, Tilly leaves a message. Surely Mona will agree to join them, as she’s the one who has been pushing for an intervention for months. Plus, baby sister does not like being left out.
The small house on Happy Valley Road hums with activity. Tilly and Antonia are a good team, the two middle-sister workhorses, making the spare beds, setting out towels, vacuuming the carpets, interspersing these chores with calls to Izzy, whose phone instantly goes to voicemail, and to Mona—Tilly’s messages increasingly pissy. Kaspar is commissioned to drive over to Caputo’s, where there’s a good wine selection, a large assortment of cheeses, fresh pastas; he’s to take his cell phone along just in case they think of something else they need but have forgotten in their haste.
When Mona finally returns their call, Tilly outlines the plan.
Sorry, Charlie, Mona says. Too last-minute; I can’t just drop everything. Even though she is winding down her practice, she still has some clients. I have a life.
We all do, Tilly rebuts. Bickering ensues. Who has a life, who doesn’t.
Bitch! Tilly finally shouts, and hangs up.
Come on, be fair, Antonia counsels. We sprung it on her. Call her back.
You call her back! Tell her it’s what you want for your birthday.
By now, Antonia is too caught in the strong current of sisterhood to know what she wants. She hits redial on Tilly’s cell. The phone rings once. Bitch, yourself! Mona screams in her ear.
It’s me, Antonia corrects the understandable mistake. Mona bursts out crying. Tilly hung up on her. She’s so unfair. I know, Mo-mo, Antonia soothes the baby sister. It’s just we’re worried and we need you, we miss you, we love you. You catch more flies with sugar than you do with salt, Mami would say. Please come. It’s what I want for my birthday.
Mona grumpily agrees, but with a caveat: she’ll come only if Tilly apologizes first. Another standoff. By the time Antonia has convinced Tilly to go the extra mile—it’s what she wants from Tilly for her birthday—a call comes in from Izzy: she’ll be arriving later than she thought, as she is now pulling a trailer behind her.
A trailer? Tilly is alarmed. Did you buy a motel and a mobile home?
Whatever Izzy’s response, it’s at such a volume that Tilly has to hold the phone away from her ear. She curses, but not loudly and not into the mouthpiece.
Ask her where she is, Antonia mouths.
But Izzy has already hung up. When they try calling her back, the number she called from is not her number. Hi, this is Phil. Leave me a message.
Who the hell is Phil? Tilly records her message: Hey, Phil!—like she knows who he is. We’re calling my sister Izzy. Can you tell her to please call me back?
You’re not going to believe this, Tilly says to Kaspar, as he comes in the door with the commissioned purchases. First, she needs a drink. They clink glasses, standing in the kitchen, shaking their heads in commiseration. Kaspar questions the sisters as if they can divine Izzy’s motives or make sense of her choices. Who would be crazy enough to