I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that I don’t have to be a slave for the rest of the trip, but the bad news is I don’t get my makeover either. Last night Mom insisted that we go somewhere nice because we were in a place that resembles civilization and she was desperate for human contact. Thanks very much, I wanted to say, what are we - chopped liver? But I didn’t say anything because then her attention would be on me and I wanted it to be on Sam.
I have to admit Sam was pretty good. She pretended to look through her stuff and asked Sidney and me with a sort of frown on her face if we had packed her dress and to give it back or she’d get mad, even though she knew full well that we had done no such thing. Then she made a great show to Mom who made us turn out our suitcases on the bed and threatened us with no dessert if we had taken Sam’s dress. I knew she was focusing on me. It's so unfair. I’m always singled out. I went along with it only because I knew Sam was going to get into trouble eventually. And besides, I got a catch of the giggles and needed to plunge my head into a suitcase and pretend I was looking for something so Mom wouldn’t see.
Finally convinced we hadn’t taken the dress, Mom said Sam could borrow something of hers and Sidney and I thought this was even better than her getting mad. Sam in something that Mom wears? I’d pay money to see that! If I had any that is. But Sam said “no way” and that was it. At that point Mom started to guess that Sam hadn’t packed her good outfit on purpose and then Sam started to giggle and admitted it and then she got a real bawling out. Mom’s lips went all thin and her cheeks turned a kind of dark reddish-purple.
It’s been days since we last heard her remind us about how little she asks and how we let her down and how she’s worked so hard to get us to look and act like proper young women and how common we were instead, blah, blah, blah. I’m not exactly sure why she thinks calling us ‘common’ is so bad, but it’s seems to be one of Mom’s worst insults. I would have thought being uncommon would worry her more. I’ve love to know what it feels like to be really uncommon, except that I don’t really want to stand out at all. I hate being noticed and fussed over.
Sam kept smirking until Mom shook her by both shoulders. Then Sam burst into tears and called Mom a ‘bitch’, which made Sidney and me gasp because I’ve never her use that word before. Mom gasped too, then slapped her right on the cheek. Sam ran and locked herself in the bathroom and then Mom yelled at us to pick up all our clothes off the floor, which I thought was mean as she had been the one who told us to empty our suitcases in the first place. Dad sat in an armchair and read the paper. After my clothes were sorted I started reading my atlas, because I could tell we wouldn’t be going out for dinner any time soon. But I guess Mom got too hungry or too desperate and eventually coaxed Sam out of the bathroom. Sam agreed to wear one of my blouses over her best jeans because even though she is younger than me I am not much bigger than her. I started to complain when Mom whipped out my favourite blouse but she was in no mood to negotiate. Boy, she really wanted to go to a restaurant!
After all the fireworks last night, you’d think Mom and Sam were best friends. Boy, Sam gets away with so much. I think it’s because she’s the baby of the family. Or else because she’s such a tomboy and doesn’t care. When I wanted to get Sam mad I used to say it was because she reminded Mom and Dad of the son they never had, but now she just laughs and doesn’t mind it so it’s not worth saying anymore. While they chattered away I sat in my window seat and daydreamed my way towards Manitoba.
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