Jealousy Comes Back
Olga watched her sister spinning around with her husband and felt jealous. She had tried to be a good sister, but there was an ugly, dark green-eyed monster that lived in her heart. She had tried her best to forever be her parents favourite. She'd done well academically. Which their father was so proud of, until Helga hit Middle School and took up several sports. Then it was all about Helga. So she had taken drastic measures and come home, quiting college to become an actor.
Well, that had defiantly gotten her parents attention, though not in a good way . . .
Of course, she got over that, and moved on to various other career choices.
She always had to put so much effort into everything.
But Helga . . . It was like she didn't even try. She never seemed stressed about weather she got good grades, or did well in competitions and contests. She was successful both academically, artistically and physically.
Helga married her childhood love, had been focused and faithful and loyal. She knew they would be together forever. She thought back on her failed engagement all those years ago, and the many failed relationships since, many of which she had kept secret from her families.
The music was turned down, and Arnold's best friend and Best man, Gerry or something, stood up front near the DJ and called for a toast.
"I want to congratulate my main man Arnold, and his childhood tormentor for an awesome day. And going through random songs I came across one I thought was perfect. It's an oldie but a goodie. You and Me by the Wannadies. Hit it Brainy!"
The song started and Olga was surprised it wasn't a slow song. She again found her sister happy and laughing and who punched Gerry (or was it Gerald? Harold? No that was the fat one . . .) in the shoulder. This wasn't the Helga she had watched grow up. She looked to her parents who were watching Helga with pride. Ignoring her. Just like they did with Robert. Just like they did when Helga was born.
Then it occurred to her: Helga wasn't a Pataki anymore.
Lucky her.
Olga downed her fourth or fifth maybe sixth wine, then grabbed her purse and walked out.
She felt sick!