"Come on, you're my sister," I complained. "You're supposed to help me." I couldn't understand why she wouldn't support me in this. She had for much o... our lives—if I discounted all the times she wasn't tormenting me, that is."I'm not so sure this is helping," she replied. "Personally I think it's a terrible idea." Still, I want the option to make my own decisions, not have them thrust upon me. This is my life we're talking about." Yes, it's your life and your decision, but it's the wrong. There wasn't really muchto do.But it was comforting, somehow. A little thing here, little one there, agame with stakes of smiles for the smell of melting butter in pan, thanksfor loading his clothes into the washer. Smaller stakes than what I hadbeen playing for, not passion, transformation. Just the smile of the manwho I could feel watching the cloth of my pink skirt tighten across myrear when I bent to pick up a stray sock from the floor.Back to the bedroom, a last check, another sock. Down. More

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