The Suitcase in the Attic

Chapter 1: Taylor - Secrets and Suitcases

"Thanks for driving down, we really appreciate it dear. Janet should be here around noon. She promised it would only take an hour to get pictures and make measurements."

My mom was giving me one last hug and an unnecessary fourth or fifth expression of thanks. "Say 'hi' to Mari and the girls for me," I mumbled in her ear before opening the passenger door for her. She gave me an exasperated look, so I reluctantly added, "and Mark too."

After reminding my dad to drive safely and to keep it under a hundred driving across Montana, I waved goodbye as they pulled out of the driveway of the home where I grew up, less than an hour drive from the city and apartment where I now live. My parents had decided to retire soon after I finished college and had become a relatively self-sufficient artist, slash actor, slash bar tender, slash anything else that paid my rent and kept me from starving. At the moment, the "anything else" was as an assistant curator at an art gallery, which seemed to be the catalyst that convinced mom and dad it was safe to sell their real estate agency and retire.

So they are now on their way to Seattle to visit their eldest daughter and her family. I have three sisters. All much older than me. I was one of those proverbial accidents you hear about. Mari and her ass of a husband have three daughters. My next oldest sister, Kari, is in Boston. Although a lesbian, she has birthed two daughters and is married to a lovely woman who is not an ass. Finally, third sister Lara recently moved to London with her daughter (father unknown, but I'm guessing, an ass).

I should note that the preponderance of females in the family extends at least three generations. My mom has three sisters, no brothers. We've speculated that the women in our family have evolved the ability to reject any sperm carrying a Y-chromosome. So it came as quite a surprise when I was born. My nursery was saturated in pink. Pink painted walls. Pink lace drapes. Pink blankets. Pink onesies. Now granted, most of this stuff was left over from my sister's childhoods, but they had picked a girl's name and had already printed birth announcements in anticipation of a fourth daughter. I was once told that the choice had been down to "Taylor" or "Isabella". My mom said I was lucky that Kari vetoed "Isabella" because she had dated a girl with that name. I wasn't so sure about that.

After watching my parents' car disappear over a hill, I turned and took a long look at the turn-of-the-century three story house. By the way, that's the turn of the 19th century. Not the last one with the world wars and moon landings and Elvis. My parents were at least the fourth owners, and the house would be looking for a new owner, as soon as Janet the realtor got here to start the listing process. Which reminded me to check my watch.

"Ok," I talked to myself, "I have almost an hour." I had to make sure I removed everything I'd hidden, mostly throughout my teen years.

Once inside I headed immediately to my room. Last night I actually made an effort to write down everything I could absolutely remember hiding and all the hiding places I used. I was pretty certain that over the summer breaks during college, I had purged the premises of the most embarrassing items that I had accumulated, either purchased, found unattended, borrowed, or outright stolen. It's not as bad as it sounds. Really.

Except for a few questionable magazines still stuffed under a nightstand (mostly a few fashion magazines and one Playboy, which was purchased before I was allowed Internet access) the only embarrassing item was one of Lara's nightgowns hiding under my mattress. At age twenty-three, I'd mostly be embarrassed by the fact that I stole it from Lara's bathroom and not the fact that I had a woman's nightgown in my possession. I was under no illusion that my family was unaware of my feminine nature. That Y-chromosome only barely escaped, and as far as I'm concerned, it is living on borrowed time (hey, I was an art and drama major, I'm not being literal, I did take a biology class in college).