Chapter Five: The Plan

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        If someone had asked me two years ago what I wanted in a husband, I would have described Mark to a tee. Handsome, smart, kind, loving, and not afraid to be himself, regardless of what others thought.

        I'm not ashamed to admit that when I first met Mark I had a tiny crush on him because he was nice and charming. Plus, he never gave homework on his teaching days. So okay maybe it was a big crush, but I was a freshman in high school and he was the sexy teachers aid. A very sexy teachers aid that every girl had a crush on. So who could blame me? But that was a long time ago before my sister even laid eyes on him, and before she declared him the love of her life.

        But now as I sit here waiting yet again for Mark to bring his late ass home for supper, I ponder on his more unsavory traits.

        Tardiness obviously. By the looks of it he didn't value family like a husband/father should. So in my book he didn't have his priorities straight. And that was no bueno.

        "Abby! Seriously?"

        "Yes Emily I felt bad yesterday since we ate without him. So today we are going to wait for my husband to get home."

        She was being irrational. She was a grown woman and could eat whenever, or whatever she wants. "Abs, I am hungry, your son is crying because he's hungry. I can frickin hear your stomach growling from my side of the table. Why can't w-."

"Because! Because I said so. And this is my house!" Never before has my sister ever sounded so exasperated.

        I raise my hands up in mock surrender, trying to play off the hurt as sarcasm. I had to admit it stung a little.

        Okay I was more than a little hurt.

        "Fine." I said as I stood up. "But I am going to feed your son. Before he cries himself sick."

        Abby kept yelling for me to put Tristan down, but I wasn't having it. He was hungry god dammit!

        Abby suddenly grabbed my arm with surprising strength, considering the fact that I stood two inches taller at five six and weighed one hundred and ten pounds. Which wasn't a lot but compared to her five four skin and bone self I was a giant.

        Since she was so skinny it made me wonder, 'If Mark doesn't come home early enough does she make herself and her son go without eating?'. After I feed Tristan and put him down for the night I decided I would confront her.

        I looked her in the eye and shook her arm off then continued my way to the kitchen with a now calmer Tristen in my arms.

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        Walking down the stairs, still hungry and tired, I was pondering how to go about questioning Abby. Obviously just asking her straightforward questions is not the way to go. Cause every time I do she closes up tighter than a freshly sealed pickle jar.

        Suddenly I remember back to a few years ago, when Abby had just gotten back from a date with Mark. She was totally sloshed, and she snuck into my room and to tell me all about it.

Flashback: I had always been a light sleeper so it was no surprise when I bolted awake at the sound of my door creaking. As I sat up I slowly started to reach for the baseball bat that I kept between my bed and nightstand. Imagine my surprise when my drunk, sloppy, huccuping, role model sister came stumbling into my room.

        When she saw me standing at the ready to take a swing at her she started laughing. Loudly. And let me tell you it wasn't very attractive. I knew I had to shut her up, so I quickly ran behind her to shut the door. I turned back around to see her still laughing.

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