On this night of a thousand stars...

[e_hooligan_k]

The sisters came back from Florida late last night. I picked up two of them. Waiting in my car, with my cell phone beeping at me, telling me to charge it, Lola and I were talking as the two of them tried to locate where I was parked. We kept throwing airline names back and forth--'Korean? Hawaiian? British? United?'--and describing the minivans, station wagons, and luxury cars in hopes of finding each other--'tell me when you see a beat up, old blue car drive past.' As I sat in the car, the radio on, I saw the back of a little boy's head and thought he looked familiar. He turned around and sure enough it was Lola's nephew. A few feet away, his mother (another one of the sisters) stood holding her other son in his car seat. I asked Lola if she knew where her sister was because then she would find me. She didn't. They finally found me and all was well. We found ourselves at a gas station for cigarettes and a bum who liked us a little too much. But we went on our merry way and drove through Seattle and West Seattle and I bid farewell at the ferry dock.

Pulling out, I could see them in my mirror, walking over to buy tickets--Lola convincing Sarah to buy her ticket since she didn't have enough money on her. Sarah had pestered her that she had had enough money to buy cigarettes five minutes ago. Lola replied that that was the reason she didn't have enough left to get on the ferry. Sarah, of course, indulged her younger sister and paid for her to get home.
As I watched them get smaller in my mirror, before I drove out of sight, I felt the familiar pangs of jealousy that are always present when I leave them. I can't help but envy their family. I know they have their own problems, but they just have...something I can't quite put my finger on, but know I don't have. And I really shouldn't complain because I am as damn close as one could be to being the seventh daughter. And I should be happy for that.