Olive Branches Don't Grow on Trees (11 page)

She
always did manage to conceal her feelings better than anyone in the
family.  This frustrated Donna because she could not determine her own
daughter’s state of mind.  Angie seemed to enjoy keeping her mother in the
dark and at a distance.  Angie and Donna never bonded, and Donna blamed
herself for this failing.  She attributed it to returning to graduate
school for a master’s in English literature to fulfill a life-long dream to be
a college professor.  She did not need to go to work.  Frank had just
gotten a position in an established Cherry Hill firm.  But she did not
want to be one of those parents whose life revolved around her children.
 She realized
,
by the time that Cosmo was born,
that this way of thinking was not the best thing for her children.  
But it was too late for her and Angie, and the little girl
gravitated towards her father, who reciprocated by making her his favorite.

Despite
being Frank’s favorite and despite her beauty and popularity at school, Angie
seemed incapable of enjoying life.  She was stuck inside of her flawless
skin as though imprisoned by it, never able to break through.  Never
free.
 
She hid her sadness well, as it
was not apparent to anyone except for Silvia, who was always able to see right
through fake laughter and fraudulent smiles.  Her extra sensory gift was
especially keen when it came to feeling the pain belonging to one of her own
siblings, and she felt great empathy for Angie.  Angie reciprocated
Silvia’s empathy by confiding in her.  So, one night, when she swallowed
too many pills, it was Silvia, and not Donna or Frank, whom she told.  It
was Silvia who picked up the phone and called 911 the instant Angie told her
what she had done.  And it was Silvia who stayed by her side in the
ambulance.  It was Silvia’s face that was the first thing that Angie saw
after she awoke on her hospital bed.

Silvia’s
quick response showed her strong sense of responsibility, supreme sensibility
and composure under the gravest of circumstances, which made her the family
hero.  It was this act that substantiated her reputation within their
family as the sensible one, the one who had her head screwed on straight,
the
one to ask for advice or support, and as the one who
always had to appear held together, even when she was falling apart.  It
was also this event that forged an unbreakable bond between the two sisters.
 Angie knew that Silvia cared, and Silvia knew that Angie hurt. 
Despite the fact that the two sisters resided in two entirely different worlds,
they loved each other in a way that only sisters can.

This
difference was apparent as Silvia entered Angie’s house.  Her home was
well hidden from street view, surrounded by big, billowy trees and a stately black
iron gate that opened up into a driveway that was more like a small road.
 The yard resembled a botanical garden, groomed to perfection, although
Frank might say that his yard was more perfect.  The house was a huge,
modern, and striking off-white structure that screamed of
ostentation.   

Angie
was waiting for her sister on the porch of her house, which was as big as the
apartment that Silvia had previously rented with her ex-boyfriend in
Philadelphia.  Her hair was tied back in a short, peppy ponytail, and she
wore faded jeans and a T-shirt.  Even dressed down, she looked like a
fairy tale princess.  Beside her sat two little, white Maltese dogs that
stared out at Silvia with timid curiosity.  When the two sisters hugged,
the dogs’ curiosity grew and they began to sniff Silvia, but kept an
appropriate distance, like the very well-mannered dogs they were.  They
relished Silvia’s gentle pets upon their little recently groomed heads.

Angie
commented, “They just came from the beauty parlor.  They had their nails
all manicured and everything.”  Silvia smiled, but behind her smile, she
tried to calculate how much money had been spent on the dogs’ visit to the
beauty parlor.  She estimated it to be more than she had spent on all of
her beauty treatments in the past two years.

“Where’s
Isabella?” asked Silvia.

“Sleeping,
upstairs.
 The nanny is here too.”

An
immediate sense of space, openness, and sterility came upon Silvia as they
entered the house, and she felt exposed, insecure, and most of all, cold.
 The complete lack of clutter also made the wrapped gift box on the table
very prominent.  The big box was undoubtedly for Silvia.  Since Angie
had married Doug, she was quite generous to her little sister, and her
generosity always took the form of clothing or shoes.  Silvia figured that
this had something to do with her older sister’s disapproved of the way that
she dressed.

“That’s
all wrong,” Angie would say when they were
kids,
looking down at six-year-old Silvia dressed in a green dress and purple stockings.
“You have to wear colors that match, or at least
compliment
each other.”  Then she would open little Silvia’s drawers and get out a
pair of appropriately matching stockings, either white or black, for Silvia to
change into.  As Silvia grew older, Angie could no longer tell her younger
sister to change into something else.  She could only suggest it through
buying her new things to wear.  Silvia did not mind, but did not give it
too much attention either. 

“Because
I missed your birthday.
 Better late than never,”
said Angie referring to the gift.

“Thank
you, Angie,” said Silvia with a combination of gratitude and guilt, for she had
not gotten Angie anything for her birthday.  She seemed reluctant to open
it, but Angie urged her by saying, “Go ahead. Open it!”

Silvia
was not surprised when she saw the box was from J. Crew, but when she saw that
it contained a leather jacket, she felt an awful sinking feeling in her
stomach.  She did not wear leather, as she could not wear clothing that
was made of animals that she imagined were brutally and needlessly killed.
 Even her shoes were made of canvas or of synthetic materials. 
Despite her anti-leather convictions, she could not possibly imagine telling
her sister, who rarely smiled, and who was smiling big and bold at this moment,
that she was against all leather.  She had no idea what a leather jacket
from J. Crew cost, but knew it was a lot of money, and although Angie could
definitely afford it, it almost seemed too generous.

“God,
Angie, I don’t know what to say,” said Silvia, still slightly shocked.

“Try
it on!”

Silvia
tried it on, only to be more disappointed because it fit her absolutely
perfect.  In fact, she looked fantastic in this jacket, like it had been
made for her.  Maybe she could wear it and make this one exception to her
no-leather rule.  After all, it was not like she had purchased it.
 It was a gift.  It might even be rude and ungracious to not wear the
jacket.  She wondered how Cosmo might react if he saw her wearing it.
 Either he would think it was a fake or know it was a gift from
Angie.  His seeing the jacket would probably create more fuel for the fire
that existed between him and Angie.

This
split between them started when they were toddlers and they used to squabble
over who got more ice cream in their little plastic bowls.  But Silvia
sometimes thought that their conflict may have started as soon as Cosmo was
born.  Angie, who had a tendency towards jealousy, must have somehow
sensed that her baby brother would be getting more attention than she herself
ever got from their mother.  As children, they destroyed each other’s
toys.  She barbecued some of his Dungeons and Dragons miniature figurines
to get back at him for beheading her favorite Barbie doll.  They refused
to be seen together at school as adolescents because their two groups of
friends were so completely different.  Cosmo would often refuse to drive
to school in the same car as Angie, so he ended up walking the two-mile walk to
school.  There was a very brief period of friendship between them during
high school, when they would sneak into local bars together.  That ended
as soon as Angie was off to college and came home for her visits declaring
herself an adult, a woman of the world, and looking down at her young, inexperienced
siblings with blatant condescension.  Of course, no one resented this
treatment as much as Cosmo, who was closest to her in age.

From
that point on, the line between them became thicker and their relationship grew
as icy as a Siberian winter.  When she got married, Cosmo brought a girl
wearing a dress that appeared to be made from aluminum foil, had a shaved head,
and sported a giant pentagram tattoo that covered the back of her neck.
 The whole family was sure that Angie would never forgive him for that stunt,
but she did, and she showed her forgiveness by asking him to be the godfather
of her child.  Cosmo thanked, but declined based on his religious beliefs
that were pretty much non-existent.  That finalized the divide in their
relationship for
Angie,
and despite Cosmo’s supposed
numerous attempts to contact her via email, she had not responded, and the two
had not spoken a word to each other since the godfather invitation.

With
that history, how could Silvia ask Angie to come to an event where Cosmos would
be present? This would involve any kind of trickery and manipulation she could
conjure.  She first tried to appeal to Angie’s sympathy for Vince by
telling her how difficult Frank was being about helping him out with his
tuition, and how it would be nice to show their support for their younger
brother.

“So
Mom and I thought it would be a nice idea to have a little party after his
graduation ceremony,” said Silvia as she sat down beside her sister.

 “Well,
that sounds nice, but why do I have to be there?” she asked.

“Because
you’re Dad’s favorite, and you being there would just make him feel so much
more comfortable.  Besides, you know Vince would really appreciate having
you there.”  She did not reveal that her plan to coerce Frank to go was
largely contingent upon Angie’s presence at the affair. 

Angie
looked stubbornly at the floor as if hoping that if she looked long enough
Silvia might stop bothering her about going to the dinner.  So Silvia
added something that she knew her sister could not resist-- her need for
keeping up appearances.

“How
would it look if we were all there except for you? How do you think Mom would
feel if you deprived her of an opportunity to see her
only
grandchild?”

“Alright
already.
 I’ll go.  But do I have to
bring Doug?  I know Vince can’t stand him.”

Silvia
was caught completely off guard because she was not at all aware that Angie
knew about Vince’s dislike for her husband.  She had always taken Angie
for being less perceptive and observant.  So she did the only thing that
she could think of doing-- she
lied
.

“That’s
not true.”

Angie
just looked back at her with a snide look on her face as if to say, “Don’t
bullshit me.”  So once again Silvia used the appearance thing.

“Anyway,
how would that look to everyone, if you show up without Doug?  Dad might
think that he doesn’t like our family or something.  And Doug might think
that we don’t like him.”

“Well,
I guess that’s true.”

Silvia
could not believe it was this easy.  She was starting to think of herself
as a natural peacemaker.  When she considered this, she smiled inside.
 But one of her not-so-nice internal voices told her that she might just
be a manipulative liar instead of a natural peacemaker, making her internal
smile turn sour.  And then the two conflicting voices inside of her
reconciled by agreeing that maybe she was just a combination of the two.
 Or maybe making peace sometimes necessitated the use of deception and
manipulation.  
And if those bad things are used to make
something as great and worthy as peace, then maybe, in cases such as this one,
they are not so bad.
 

Angie
then added what Silvia knew would come up sooner or later.  “You know I
haven’t spoken to Cosmo in over three years.”

“Don’t
worry about Cosmo.  He’ll be fine.  I promise.”   

Then
to get her sister’s mind redirected, she said, “Now let’s go see if we can find
Bruce Springsteen’s house.  Didn’t you tell me you thought you might have
discovered the street that it’s on?”  Angie’s face lit up, and she jumped
up out of her seat like a jack-in-the-box.

“I’ll
go tell the nanny,” Angie said, running out of the room.

**********

They
drove around the neighborhood for close to two hours before abandoning their
search for the house that might belong to Bruce Springsteen.  Angie
probably would have continued searching longer if she had not needed to get
home before the nanny had to leave.  They drove up and down the same few
streets several times, Angie inspecting each house before deciding that none
looked like the kind of house that he would live in.  When Silvia asked
her how she knew what kind of house he would live in, Angie said that she did
not know, but she knew that it could not be any of the ones they had seen
today.  Silvia did not want to tell Angie that she suspected his house was
probably secluded and well hidden from street view.  She did not want to
ruin the little bit of happiness that Angie seemed to derive from the prospect
of finding his house.  It was this very sort of thing that brought Angie
to life; that turned her from a listless young woman who apathetically stared
out at the world, from her three million dollar house, into a bubbly girl full
of energy and curiosity.