Donna & Sharry

Donna opened her eyes.  Was it a school day?  Yes, she remembered with relief.  Another school day was better than being home with her step-mother.  She looked over at the alarm clock.  Two more minutes and the alarm will make that loud bell-ringing sound - the annoying alarm.  She reached over and turned it off.  After a few stretches, she looked over at her younger sister Sharry who was curled in a ball, sleeping soundly.  "Wake up!" Donna called out.  Sharry, three years younger, did not stir.  Donna pulled her pillow from under her head and threw it at her sister. Sharry stirred, but did not open her eyes.

Donna sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her sister.  To her, Sharry was whiny and never listened.  Seemed like she made her life harder by not paying attention.  Like the time that Sharry put her hand on the gas stove flame even though she had been warned many times not to or the time she walked across the street holding her umbrella in front of her, not seeing the cars that almost hit her. Didn't matter that Mom had warned her many times not to hold her umbrella in front of her face.

Mom.  Donna sighed.  Why?  Why was Mom not here?  Why did she die?  Why did life have to change? Why was Ruth here?  What had they done so bad to deserve Ruth?

Donna stiffened as she heard footsteps in the hallway.  The bedroom door opened with a jolt and Ruth stood there glaring at the two girls.  "Why aren't you up?  Why do I have to come up here every morning to get you out of bed?" Ruth asked as she entered the room with a commanding walk.

"We are getting up," Donna said as she stared back at her step-mother.

"Your sister isn't moving," Ruth retorted as she pulled the covers off of Sharry.  "Get up, Sharry.  Now!"

Sharry slowly opened her eyes and immediately started to cry.  Crying had become a daily occurrence for Sharry.  Her sobs grew louder.

Ruth grabbed Sharry and pulled her upright.  "Stop crying.  Get ready for school,"  Ruth said in a tense voice.

But still the sobs continued.  Ruth turned abruptly and walked out the bedroom door, calling over her shoulder, "Get her up, Donna.  Breakfast in ten minutes.  Don't forget the blinds."

Donna sighed and stood up.  Mom used to come in softly every morning and open the blinds so the morning sunlight would help wake the girls.  She would tickle them until their eyes were completely open and then the three of them would talk about the day ahead before Mom went to make breakfast and the girls got dressed.

"Hey, Sharry, stop crying and get ready," she said sadly to her sister.  "I don't, don't want to," Sharry stammered.

"So, you would rather stay here all day with HER?"  Donna asked with contempt.  She caught the harshness of her tone and tried to soften it.  "Come on, lets go."

"I want Mommy, " Sharry wailed.

Donna sighed deeply, "Stop it, Sharry, just stop it!  Every morning, the same thing.  She's gone.  Don't you get it?  She is gone - GONE - as in forever.  It will be the same every day, forever." Then pleadingly, "Please stop putting me through this every morning.  Please."

Donna went to the bathroom and finished up quickly.  Sharry was still sitting on the edge of the bed when she returned.  She pulled Sharry to her feet and pushed her in the direction of the bathroom.  Donna frowned as she saw the clothes that Ruth had set out for both girls the night before.  Why does she do that? she thought.  Donna had been choosing her own outfits since she was seven years old and now at eleven, she was being treated lke a stupid little girl.  No sense in arguing, so she dressed in what was laid out, combed her hair, and slipped on her saddle shoes.

Still no Sharry.  Typical.  Donna knocked on the bathroom door, "Come on.  She will be up here in a few minutes if we aren't at the table."  Sniffles were Sharry's answer, but she opened the door and followed Donna to the bedroom.  Donna looked at her eight-year-old sister's swollen eyes and blotchy cheeks and then grabbed one of the laid-out pieces of clothing.  Sharry stood completely still, so Donna was forced to dress her sister.  Like dressing a doll, Donna thought, a big, motionless doll.

"Ten minutes, I said, ten minutes!" Ruth yelled from the bottom of the stairs. "Can't you two tell time?"

Donna combed Sharry's hair, grabbed her arm and hurried her to the stairs.  Ruth stood at the bottom glaring up at them.  The girls reached the bottom step before she asked, "Blinds?"

Donna sighed, turned Sharry around and they climbed back up the stairs.  In their room, the closed blinds on the three sets of windows seemed to be mocking them.  Donna opened the blinds on two windows and Sharry on one.  Why the blinds were such a big deal for Ruth was beyond what they could understand, but if the blinds were not opened every morning, Ruth had a meltdown.  Both girls noticed that they had not made their beds, which was another huge issue with Ruth, so they quickly pulled up, fluffed and tucked.  Having those morning chores was not that bad, but to brush teeth and hair, get dressed and do the chores was a lot to accomplish in ten minutes and ten minutes was all that Ruth allowed.

The girls went back down the stairs and into the kitchen where the bright yellow walls belied the heavy atmosphere.  Becky sat in her high chair, her light brown hair curling around her face, her gray eyes dancing with joy as she reached out to her big sisters.  Sharry and Donna stopped to hug her, but neither said a word.  They sat down and slowly began to eat the watery oatmeal that Ruth made nearly every morning. Mom used to make eggs and bacon or blueberry pancakes or waffles with syrup.  Now, they had to eat this disgusting, tasteless oatmeal, day after day.

Ruth sat down and fed Becky, cooing to her.  Donna and Sharry ate as fast as possible in silence.  As soon as they were done, they went to the dining room to gather their schoolbooks and then to the hall closet for their coats.  Ruth, with Becky in her arms, came to the front door to say good-bye.  For a moment, Ruth tried to sound motherly, "Have a good day at school, girls.  Be careful crossing the street."  She even smiled, for a second, but then her lips pursed as she warned them, "Those blinds better be open and the beds made or you will both be in trouble when you get home."  Both girls knew that trouble meant a long lecture and sitting in chairs in a corner for an hour or more and writing "I will open the blinds and make my bed every morning" one hundred times.

Sharry and Donna did not reply or even look at Ruth. They just hurried down the stairs and then down the stone path to the sidewalk.  They pulled on their jackets as they nearly ran to get away.

Donna heard the front door close and turned around to look at the two-story home that had once been happy.  She imagined how her mother used to look standing on the doorstep, wearing one of her colorful shirtwaist dresses and low-heeled pumps, smiling and waving at her older girls as they went off to school. Donna wiped away tears as they slipped down her wind-chilled cheeks. Then, she rushed to catch up with Sharry who was already at the sidewalk.

Ruth

Ruth walked out of the doctor's office into cloudy, cold weather.  The frigid breeze actually felt good.  She was flushed and her mind was spinning.  She needed to sit down.  She walked two blocks to a small park and sat down heavily on a wooden bench.  Just the movement of sitting down made her stomach lurch and she struggled not to throw up as she'd done for the last several weeks, multiple times a day.

As she feared, the doctor confirmed that she was pregnant.  Feared?  Well, maybe not. Her feelings were so confused.  Since marrying Ed a few months before she had been a mother to his three children - Donna, Sharry and Becky.  The older two, Donna and Sharry, were a daily challenge; so much so that she tried to convince Ed to send them to a boarding school.  Neither girl accepted her as a replacement for their deceased mother.  The girls seemed to plot against her, convincing their dad that she was mean, demanding and unreasonable.  She did not see herself that way.  She was strict, yes.  She expected the girls to behave a certain way, to have responsibilities.  Was that mean?  The girls complained to Ed every night.  Ed was annoyed to be in the middle of the drama and spent most evenings being angry with her.  No matter what she said to defend her stance, he remained aggravated.

But, then there was Becky.  She was the joy of Ruth's life.  Becky made the bad days better.  Becky was a kind, affectionate child.  Ruth watched with fascination as Becky learned more every day, amazed at each new bit of information that expanded Becky's world.

Ruth sighed.  She grew up never imagining having a baby.  Unlike other girls, she was more interested in sports than boys or planning weddings or dreaming of motherhood.  Loving Becky as much as she did came as a surprise.  Maybe she could love this new baby growing inside of her just as much.  But, pregnancy and childbirth were not her dreams.  The last few weeks of constant nausea just convinced her more that she was not cut out for what lay ahead.

And, what about her marriage, which was already stressed?  What would be Ed's reaction to this news?  He was a distant husband and father.  He had a strong since of obligation and followed through on what he thought he had to do, what was expected of him, but he was not that involved in the everyday lives of Ruth and the children.  He was only engaged when Donna and Sharry complained about Ruth.  Yes, that is when he definitely got involved, Ruth thought, always siding with them and never with her.

As the animosity with Ed increased, Ruth worried about the life of their marriage.  What would she do if he told her to get out?  If he divorced her?  Yes, their family life was often stressful and Ed could be moody and even explosive, but their lifestyle was still better than anything she had ever experienced.  She definitely did not want to go back to being a struggling legal secretary and going back to life in rural Maine was not an option she wanted to consider.  She shuddered from the thought and from the cold wind that blew across the park.  Maybe this pregnancy would assure that her marriage would continue, would save her from the much less attractive alternatives.

Nausea came in a wave that she could not control.  She leaped up from the park bench and vomited in a nearby trashcan.  Pulling a tissue from her pocket, Ruth cleaned her mouth and looked about her as she returned to the park bench.  No one was around, no one saw her disgusting action.  Why did pregnancy have to be so repulsive?

Ruth saw darker clouds gathering.  Snow?  She rested a few more minutes and then rose from the park bench.  A glance at her watch told her that the next bus would arrive in ten minutes.  She slowly walked toward the bus stop thinking about the conversation she would have with Ed that evening.