me for help. I’m helping.”
“I didn’t come to you for help. I came to you for comfort. Can’t you make me chicken soup or something?”
“I’m all out of chicken soup,” Mom says, “but I can give you a bowl of logic.”
What does Mom’s logic look like? Dad was the logic chef. From Mom, I only ordered comfort. No matter. I say, “It’s too soon for logic. First comes moping. Logic comes later.”
“You can mope as long as you want. And you can stay here as long as you want. You want your mommy? You got her.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Really? I want my dad.
“You know, Mimi, I do feel a maternal obligation to impart some wisdom.”
I groan. “Go ahead.”
“You thought Nick was the love of your life after your first date. From now on, you should go slower. Shop.”
“Shop?”
“Sure,” Mom says. “That’s what dating is. Shopping for a partner. You don’t buy the first lipstick you try on in the store, do you? You try on different lipsticks and see if they suit you. Same thing with dating.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say.
“Of course I’m right. Find the right lipstick. Find the right man.”
I smile at Mom. “Lipstick theory for dating. Like chaos theory, only simpler.”
Mom smiles back at me. “You’re going to be okay, Mimi.”
“Yeah.” Exhaling, I lean against Mom. Which takes some doing, because I am considerably taller than she is. Arranging myself on the couch, I lie down and put my head in Mom’s lap. She runs her hand through my hair.
“Mom, you know what really bothers me? Nick said that I don’t know what men want.”
Mom sighs. “Neither do they, baby. Neither do they.”
Allison Louis
The next morning, laughter wakes me. Padding barefoot into the kitchen, I see Mom sitting at the kitchen table with Allison Louis. My sister-in-law.
Allison looks perfect. She is perfect. I want to be Allison when I grow up.
Tiny and trim with highlighted blond hair, Allison is always wearing the right makeup, the right clothes, the right attitude. And why shouldn’t she have the right attitude? Allison Louis is twenty-eight and she has a loving husband and three wonderful kids. Sarah is eight. Twins Gideon and Ezra are four.
“Good morning,” Allison says in her musical voice.
“Good morning, honey,” Mom says.
“Morning.” I’m not ready to decide if it’s good or not.
Mom says, “Ally and I usually have our breakfast club at her house, but I wanted to be here when you woke up. How do you feel, Mimi?”
“Fine. You have a breakfast club?”
Mom nods. “We have breakfast together twice a week. It was Ally’s idea.”
Mom and Allison smile at each other. I feel like the in-law.
Sisters-in-Law, Part One
Allison Greene met my brother at Penn. Jeremy was getting his MBA at Wharton. Allison was in Wharton undergrad.
I was in my first year of working for Dine International when Jeremy arranged for Allison to meet our family over brunch at the White Dog Café near Wharton. At the end of the meal, Allison went to the bathroom. Looking seriously at me, Dad, and Mom, Jeremy asked, “Do you like her?”
We nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Because we’re getting married.”
“Married?” I blurted.
“Why?” Mom asked.
“What we mean,” Dad said calmly, “is why are you getting married so soon?”
“Ally’s pregnant,” Jeremy answered. “I love her and she loves me. It’ll be okay.”
But we knew, the three of us, that this was not the life Jeremy had planned for himself. “Are you still going to Los Angeles?” I asked. He had been offered a mondo job at an accounting firm there.
Jeremy shook his head. “It’s too far from Ally’s parents. They live in New York. Although they are moving to Florida soon. Still, we’re going to stay on the East Coast. I’ve had several job offers in Philadelphia. We’ll buy a house in this area and stay close to home.” Jeremy smiled at Mom and Dad. They smiled back. Everybody smiled at everybody, making the best of the situation.
“Here she comes,” Jeremy said.
Allison came back from the bathroom, walking hesitantly toward our table, trying to discern the status of the conversation.
My father stood and folded Allison in his arms. “Welcome to the family.”
Five months later, Sarah was born. Jeremy finished at Wharton, but Allison didn’t. Jeremy became an MBA. Allison became a MOM.
Although she’s been a Louis for eight years, I don’t know Allison very well. She came into the family as I was leaving. To work, to travel, to boyfriend. Of course, we’ve seen each other at holidays and birthdays—the ones I attend—but we