"Ms. Thomas…please just answer a few questions."
"Did you or did you not bribe the jury?"
"Ms. Thomas, is it true that you're having a baby with a purple alien?"
I covered my ears against the noise. Whispered something to Jackie.
"No comment." Shouted Jackie.
Jackie was always my favorite baby-sitting charge, who knew he'd become a great publicist and spokesperson as well? I pushed through the crowd, lint gathering on my black business suit. The doors to the limo opened up and I sat, buried my head against the leather. My cell phone rang, sounding loudly. Who could it be? I didn't get any phone calls these days. "Hello?" The voice sounded strangely familiar. "Um yes… this is Kristen Thomas, attorney of law." "Hi Kristy," the voice began. Nobody had called me Kristy since the… eighth grade. Then it all came back to me. Memories of slumber parties, food fights, heart to hearts, dinners at the Pizza Palace… I was so grateful, so grateful to be alive. "This is Mary Anne Spier, you remember me?" "Yes Mary Anne, yes, yes, I remember you. I'll be right there, wherever you are, I'll be right there."
************************************************************************
I wrapped the phone cord around my waist, pulling the warm afghan against my bare legs. I never imagined that I would be doing this, but I needed to talk to her, to see what the real story was. So, I'd pored through my old phone books until I'd found the number. And that's when I called her. I hadn't seen her since eighth grade graduation when I had moved away, to California, to be with Dawn and her family. Since then, I'd gone to USC, gotten my degree in psychology and had begun to work a semi-low paying job as a teen counselor, until I could find a good psychological firm. But I'd always followed them, my best friends, my sisters as they grew. I'd watched Kristy become a powerful defense lawyer, watched Stacey set up her expensive boutiques "Stace", watched Jessi dance another and another beautiful ballet with the Dance Theatre of Harlem, I'd watched Claudia set up galleries, watched Mallory write children's books, watched Abby become MVP at the Soccer World Cup, watched Shannon become an ambassador for France, Spain, Nigeria, and Germany, I'd watched Dawn die as a result of drugs and I'd been there for them. Silently, I'd supported, and I'd watched and I'd never said a word. They never tried to contact me, when Logan died, my husband, my soul, they'd never tried to contact me. Never sent a present for little Alma Elaine, not little anymore, now seven or eight; she's the same age as Stacey and Claudia's children. But, I'm not bitter, I miss them, I miss my sisters. Alma and Raven are sisters as Dawn and I were. And Raven is my daughter, because she can't be Dawn's.
It was so strange to get the call from Mary Anne; she wanted a reunion, with the rest of the BSC. It was so strange. I hadn't seen or talked to her in forever. My husband, Marc, from Jamaica was talking a mile a minute on the phone, and I'd made him get off, because I needed to talk to Mary Anne. I missed her a lot. Celica, my daughter was shopping with my mother and I'd had the house to myself, I had just finished a hectic day at work. But then MA called and I didn't want to be alone. I wanted to be with Abby and Jessi and Kristy and the rest. So when she invited us to visit, I'd gone, because I didn't want to be alone.
"Did you or did you not bribe the jury?"
"Ms. Thomas, is it true that you're having a baby with a purple alien?"
I covered my ears against the noise. Whispered something to Jackie.
"No comment." Shouted Jackie.
Jackie was always my favorite baby-sitting charge, who knew he'd become a great publicist and spokesperson as well? I pushed through the crowd, lint gathering on my black business suit. The doors to the limo opened up and I sat, buried my head against the leather. My cell phone rang, sounding loudly. Who could it be? I didn't get any phone calls these days. "Hello?" The voice sounded strangely familiar. "Um yes… this is Kristen Thomas, attorney of law." "Hi Kristy," the voice began. Nobody had called me Kristy since the… eighth grade. Then it all came back to me. Memories of slumber parties, food fights, heart to hearts, dinners at the Pizza Palace… I was so grateful, so grateful to be alive. "This is Mary Anne Spier, you remember me?" "Yes Mary Anne, yes, yes, I remember you. I'll be right there, wherever you are, I'll be right there."
************************************************************************
I wrapped the phone cord around my waist, pulling the warm afghan against my bare legs. I never imagined that I would be doing this, but I needed to talk to her, to see what the real story was. So, I'd pored through my old phone books until I'd found the number. And that's when I called her. I hadn't seen her since eighth grade graduation when I had moved away, to California, to be with Dawn and her family. Since then, I'd gone to USC, gotten my degree in psychology and had begun to work a semi-low paying job as a teen counselor, until I could find a good psychological firm. But I'd always followed them, my best friends, my sisters as they grew. I'd watched Kristy become a powerful defense lawyer, watched Stacey set up her expensive boutiques "Stace", watched Jessi dance another and another beautiful ballet with the Dance Theatre of Harlem, I'd watched Claudia set up galleries, watched Mallory write children's books, watched Abby become MVP at the Soccer World Cup, watched Shannon become an ambassador for France, Spain, Nigeria, and Germany, I'd watched Dawn die as a result of drugs and I'd been there for them. Silently, I'd supported, and I'd watched and I'd never said a word. They never tried to contact me, when Logan died, my husband, my soul, they'd never tried to contact me. Never sent a present for little Alma Elaine, not little anymore, now seven or eight; she's the same age as Stacey and Claudia's children. But, I'm not bitter, I miss them, I miss my sisters. Alma and Raven are sisters as Dawn and I were. And Raven is my daughter, because she can't be Dawn's.
It was so strange to get the call from Mary Anne; she wanted a reunion, with the rest of the BSC. It was so strange. I hadn't seen or talked to her in forever. My husband, Marc, from Jamaica was talking a mile a minute on the phone, and I'd made him get off, because I needed to talk to Mary Anne. I missed her a lot. Celica, my daughter was shopping with my mother and I'd had the house to myself, I had just finished a hectic day at work. But then MA called and I didn't want to be alone. I wanted to be with Abby and Jessi and Kristy and the rest. So when she invited us to visit, I'd gone, because I didn't want to be alone.
