Delia and Murasaki had to sit very still on Murasaki's couch. Mayumi was drawing them. She had an art project to do for school so she thought she'd draw the two friends. She would give them each a copy too.
"Is it alright if I draw you in kimonos?" Mayumi asked them. Murasaki said it was okay. Delia would have smiled but it might have ruined the drawing. She'd never worn a kimono before, she was curious what she would look like in one.
"What design do you want on them?" Mayumi asked them.
"How about sakura," Murasaki suggested. Mayumi smiled and nodded.
"A classic, alright. They're easy to draw too."
"What's sakura?" Delia asked but without turning her head. Mayumi laughed.
"Cherry Blossoms. Very classic Japan," Mayumi told her.
"In Japan, when all of the cherry trees are in bloom, some towns have celebrations," Murasaki told her.
"Have you ever been to Japan, Murasaki?" Delia asked her. Mayumi laughed.
"Dozens of times. Our grandparents live there."
"We're the only bit of the family who doesn't live there."
"Actually it took awhile for the family to get used to the fact that dad married a gaijin."
"What's a gaijin?"
"A foreigner. Mom's American born," Mayumi told her.
"Oh, my mom was Jewish, but my dad's family didn't mind," Delia said. The two Japanese girls fell silent, preferring to leave the mother subject to rest.
Jig and Mack were in the kitchen washing the dishes. Jig was washing and Mack was drying and placing away. They worked in silence, occasionally giving the other an angered stare. They each hated the presence of the other. It disrupted the way things were. It also made them rivals of the room, which now showed many signs of belonging to Jig. That wall of her's was almost completely filled with photos of smiling men. A few of them she took herself. Irv was up there, so was Dr. Brown, and Orrie quite a few times. She loved his smile. Surprisingly Ephram was no where to be seen in the collage. She had no photos of him. A few of Isaac, those were easy to get and helpful when getting up in the morning. But for Mack's point, his name was carved into the doorframe. The closet door still had the crayon marks from when he drew on it so many years ago. The room's history laid with Mack, but, as they both really knew, its future lay with Jig.
Irv and Edna had noticed the few angered glances the two were always giving each other. They sensed the silent war. Unfortunately, neither of them knew what to do about it. When Edna's children were mad, they would yell and scream, and occasionally kick. That was easy to handle. Send them to their rooms, revoke whatever. Irv only ever had one child at a time, so he never really handled sibling disputes. But this silent rivalry was new to them both. Actually it was new to Jig and Mack as well. Both were accustomed to voicing their disagreements, loudly even. But for some reason they kept this one silent. They supposed it was due to the fact that neither of them had much cause to be upset. A person's presence was terms for discomfort, but not argument. Or in this case, a lack there of.
When the dishes were done the two walked out into the living room to find Edna and Irv playing Monopoly again. Edna was the Scottie and Irv was the Thimble, and there were two pieces left unclaimed. The game had originally come with more pieces, but the game was old and pieces had been lost. The remaining pieces were actually a shoe and the revolver from a missing game of Clue. Menacingly Mack took the revolver piece and Jig got the shoe. A few hours later it was ten and bedtime for the entire house. Edna had won. Edna always wins. It was a necessity to pass Jig's room to get to the guest room, so she and Mack ended up taking the same route to their rooms. Just as they were alone in the hallway Mack finally spoke to her.
"What kind of a name is 'Jig' anyway…" he muttered. Jig frowned.
"What kind of a name is 'Mack?'" she replied and entered her room as he headed down to his.
Ephram lay awake in his room. He was stomach up on his bed, in the dark, looking at the ceiling. He wished Desi were there. Not on his bed, necessarily, but with him, anywhere. Though of all the places for Desi to be, his bed wasn't one of the worst. He missed her. It had been a few hours only, but he missed her laugh, and her smile, and the way her hair bounced as she walked. He missed her smell a lot. Desi had a nice smell. Desi smelled like lilacs, and Ephram loved lilacs. Jig had an interesting smell. Not bad, obviously, but not as sweet as Desi's. Jig smelled like, well, she smelled a little like leather, and a little like butterscotch. Jig was weird like that. But Desi, Desi was great like that. Desi was just that eccentric enough to be lovable, but not eccentric enough to cause great amounts of confusion. She wasn't like Jig that way. Jig was, she was an enigma wrapped in some crazy kind of thing. Happy most the time with a few spouts of depression. And, for the most part, Ephram liked the depression more. When Jig was depressed he was the one who got to take care of everything. He was the helper. But Desi, oh Desi had that way of always letting Ephram feel like he was taking care of everything, like he was in charge. Whether or not he actually was only Desi knew. He expected that he wasn't, but there were times he really felt he was. Desi knew how important that was to him. She knew him. Jig thought she did, but she didn't. Desi knew him. Desi loved him. Jig loved Orrie. Not enough to tell him about her parents, though…
Ephram and Jig did love each other. Neither could imagine life without the other. But it wasn't romantic love. It never would be. She didn't know him, and he probably didn't know her. They were like family. Jig was pretty much a part of his family. His dad and sister approved of Desi and liked her a lot, but Jig was a daughter and a sister. He didn't have any friends like that in New York City. He also never had a girlfriend as beautiful, smart, kind, and so completely caring as Desi. He never could have dreamed… Did Desi know she was every dream he had ever had, come to life? All of the things he had accused her of being before… he hoped she would forgive him. He never would forgive himself, he knew, but maybe she would. Desi was so perfect she knew what to forget and what to remember. How many guys find a girl like that?
Ephram had a little tell system where he could tell whether or not he was in love. He realized that he was in love if he started placing his name to hers. Mrs. Desdemona Brown. Mr. and Mrs. Ephram Brown. Desi Brown. It sounded like a newscaster's name. Then a funny idea hit him. When Jig gets married, will whoever call her 'Jig?' Would Ephram still call her that? Say she married Orrie, would they then call her 'Jij?' Juliet Jackson. Alliteration, you have to love it. Juliet Jackson. Desi Brown. Amy, well, probably Hart. Amy was free to be with Colin again. That's why Ephram loved Desi. She got him out of that triangle. It was a hell of a triangle too. Of soap opera proportions, even. He was glad to be rid of it, though. He still liked Amy, but she wasn't all there was anymore. Now he had Desi, and Desi had him, and only him. He deserved a girl who wasn't sharing her heart. So did Colin. Things were going right.
Whenever Desi couldn't sleep she would dance. Of course if she was ever caught she would shrink into nothingness, but at one in the morning the chances of being caught were minimum. The current song providing her with a rhythm was a classic Spanish tango, or something. Desi could do a thousand different types of ballroom dancing, but telling them apart by name, nothing! This version of the song was in English, actually, she had one in the original Spanish, but this one she could sing with.
"If you really love me, say yes! But if you don't dear, confess! You only tell me, perhaps! Perhaps! Perhaps!" Desi found herself singing as she waltzed around her large room. She had to admit, her room and wonderful acoustics. Unfortunately the room didn't come with a partner. Ephram probably couldn't waltz anyway. Then again, everything Desi thought Ephram probably couldn't do, he did. Everything from the theme of 'I Love Lucy' on the piano, to touching his nose with his tongue. Oh what a talented guy she had! Dr. Brown looked like he could waltz. He looked like the type to be able to romance any woman. Dinner, wine, waltzing. Ephram lacked his father's romantic stature, but he made up for it in other ways. Those small, short smiles he always made. Those were the cutest thing. Even if they did make him look like the Grinch. Actually Desi really loved his eyes. Oh what things did they hold? Oh she loved him. He had such a strong face, and yet he was so shy and unsure of himself.
Ephram was like a robin, who hadn't realized he could fly. Desi was a nightingale. She couldn't really sing well, she just liked the idea of being a nightingale. She was beautiful and had a real voice, but she was caged and put on show. Desi frowned as she realized she wouldn't be able to teach Ephram how to fly. She'd just be able to tell him how great it is to be free. Ephram needed another robin. But, unfortunately, the only other robin in Everwood was tied up with a nice friendly blue jay. Was it even possible for a robin to be friends with another robin, but in love with a blue jay? Well, evidently it was. Thanks to Desi. There was something there, but she got him first. She loved Ephram. Things were going right.
Star was slowly beginning to hate it here in Everwood. It was only one and already the entire town was closed down. And it had been so for hours. If this were Buffalo, Star could go out, get a drink, see a movie, and discuss the existence of God with some guy on the street. But no, this was Everwood. No bars open, no movie theaters, and all of the people actually had homes to go to. It was like living in a rerun of 'Leave it to Beaver.' She almost hit a woman today when she said "golly." That's just not natural. And the newspaper! Whatever happened to good fashioned murders and assault? In Everwood the front page story was Mayor Quincampoix was going out of town to discuss something with the governor. What, it didn't say, when, it didn't say. They could just be playing golf for all anyone knew. He wasn't even taking his family. His wife and daughter were staying in Everwood. Star had to admit though, the girl was getting on her good side. She never really expected her to kiss Ephram. That took guts, even if it was just on the cheek. Actually the person in Everwood Star saw with the most guts, was that Jig girl. Dating her son. That took more than guts, that took balls. Though, Star supposed, she would have been braver to date Cory, but dating Orrie was brave enough for Star. Getting into anything where the long term effects were being Star's daughter, well, Star admired anyone who took the chance.
Star walked into her kitchen and noticed the unopened mail on the counter. Why she had forgotten to open it she had no idea. It must have just eluded her. She flipped through most of them. Bills and the like. But one was of some interest. The return address was only the name 'Rabbi R. Jackson.' It was addressed to her and not the son they shared in common. Star opened it and read down the familiar handwriting. When she was done she sigh and placed the note in her pocket. She didn't want Orrie to accidentally find it.
