On Saturday morning, mum called and asked whether Sarah was with us. I said we'd neither seen nor heard from her since Tuesday, when we left after Christmas dinner.After dinner, mum called Rachel and asked about Henry. Rachel gave her his mobile number. We talked about it, but had too little information to even do much speculating. I phoned my parents on Sunday and learned that Henry had taken Sarah off for a jaunt on his motorcycle about noon on Boxing Day. "Again!" was the extent of my commentary; but when I spoke to Rachel, I expressed unhappiness with my sister's behavior."She wants to do edgy, dangerous things. Running away with a circus performer; now a Hawaiian on a motorcycle." As long as they don't get really hurt," I said."Oh, she won't," Rachel said. "Unless she really thinks Henry's serious." What?" Henry likes women. I've seen visitors at the Gallery eye-ing him. Several have taken him off for a drink." A drink?" He hasn't gossiped. I'm sure there was more involved. But. Sixteen now and on the telephone with a boyfriend, I feel how much I love him and I’m grinning as I pick up the phone talking in my happy lively way until I stop suddenly, my face falling eyes wide listening to what he’s saying. I’m not his soul mate, he can’t be with me anymore. Very quickly I flash through the achingly terrible fighting that occurred between he and I, and the six months of healing that followed. With focus on the rough spots. I’m beginning to get this feeling in my chest like my hearts becoming almost to full, re-feeling all this at once. The sadness of my life I think now, that it’s over while still scarring in it’s own way could not be nearly as bad as others I’ve known in my life, or just the standard of bad itself. Now with eternity sitting out before me I contemplate this and look up at Jada from across my bedroom. She says nothing, and her face is unreadable, at once she rises and leaves me alone with my thoughts. Turning around I stare at my semi-neatly.
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