Page 17 of Elijah’s Whim

“Well, that’s me. Your big sister.”

“So, what’s going on with you? Mom said you’re staying with a friend or something when I asked why you weren’t at dinner.”

“Yeah, it’s more of a house-sitting thing. More or less.” God, I was the worst liar on the planet.

“Wow, you’re so full of shit. Now you have to tell me what’s going on,” she pressed.

“Dah, what are you talking about?” I tried to play dumb but knew the likelihood of getting away with it was slim.

Just like I had a handful of nicknames, so did my sister. We all did, actually. When my parents brought Agatha home from the hospital, I was a babbling toddler—just barely two years old. The name Agatha was impossible to pronounce for a child so young, but my parents tell the story that I immediately picked up on the similarity to my favorite showboating saying, ta-dah!

So, to this day, we all still call Agatha Ta-Dah, and sometimes the even shorter version, Dah.

“So, your friend must be a man, then?”

Just tell her. Just tell her. Just tell her.

“A man lives in the house I’m looking after, yes. Is that so unusual?” I asked, or defended, probably depending on whose ears you were hearing the conversation through.

“No, of course not. The unusual part is why you’re not being honest with me, Hannah.”

“Can we make a deal?” I asked my sister, crawling along in traffic. There had to be an accident somewhere up ahead. LA traffic always sucked, but it wasn’t normally this congested in the late-morning hours.

“Yes, of course we can. I’m always here for you, you know that.”

Without a moment’s hesitation I responded, “Just like I would be for you.”

“I know,” Agatha said quietly. Her voice had the same alto pitch mine did. Our mother gave us the unique vocal gift.

“I have a feeling I’m going to need someone to talk to over the next few weeks. Someone I can trust and who won’t judge me. You’ve always been good in that role, Agatha. But you have to promise me a few things.” I waited for her reply because I knew I had just laid out a bunch of things she would naturally want to explore. She and I were similar in so many ways, and being naturally inquisitive, almost to our detriment, was another one of those ways.

“Hanny, what have you gotten yourself into? You’re freaking me out,” my sister said, gaining volume with her distress.

“No, it’s nothing bad, or illegal, I promise. I just know Mom and Dad will completely freak out and disapprove.” I paused again, but the conversational gap wasn’t for her this time. I needed to organize my thoughts better, and since I couldn’t see her face and have that visual feedback to gauge if I was expressing myself clearly, I didn’t want to say something I didn’t first think through. And now, this whole conversation had taken an unexpected turn. I didn’t call Agatha intending to confide in her specifically about what was happening in Malibu. I just wanted to hear a comforting voice and settle my ragged nerves before I saw my landlord on his turf.

“Did I lose you? Hannah?” Agatha queried.

“I’m here. Just thinking.” I took a calming breath and said, “I want to do something for myself for once. I’m so tired of living my life for everyone else.” I waited for a few seconds and exhaled loudly when she didn’t say anything. “Does that make sense?”

“Of course, it does. I don’t know why you’ve always thought you had to be Dana Do-Right. You deserve to live a little, girl. Hell! You deserve to live a lot! I think we all should be following in Clemmy’s footsteps more often.” She chuckled the last part.

“I know, right? She’s seventeen—”

“Almost eighteen!” Agatha barked the interruption the way our youngest sister always did when someone spoke of her age. She made the comment with such unerring accuracy, we both burst out laughing until we were snorting on our inhalations.

“Oh my God. You know she would’ve stomped off in a fit by now if she heard us, right?” I asked, wiping a tear from the outer corner of my eye.

“Well, good thing she didn’t hear us, then, isn’t it?”

“Yes! It definitely is. God, that felt so good to laugh like that. Okay, I’m finally here at my first stop. Thank you for talking to me, Ta-Dah. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“But you didn’t finish what you were saying!” my sister whined.

“You got most of it,” I reassured her.

“I don’t think I got any of it. Because none of it makes sense. Well, wait, not true. I understand about wanting to live your life for you. But, Han? That’s the way you’re supposed to live. Only you think otherwise. Well, you and the other great martyrs of the world.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that martyr comment. Are you going to be home tonight? I have to come by and get some of my stuff. If we can get some privacy in that circus tent we call a home, I’ll fill you in the best I can. Okay? I really have to go, or there are going to be a lot of hungry, spoiled rich dudes and dudettes calling my boss to complain.” I stuffed my phone and keys in my emergency pack disguised as a great crossbody bag and slung it over my head while I tried to say goodbye.

But Agatha had one more comment. “I don’t know when you’re going to quit working for other people and strike out on your own. You’re so talented, Hannah. You need to open a restaurant.”

“Blah blah blah.”

“Hannibal?”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“I’m glad you called me. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dah. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

With a much lighter heart and clearer mind, I loaded the lunches onto the cart and headed into Shark Enterprises.