“There’s something to be said,” Elizabeth begins, at which point I stop listening. She holds a glass of white wine at the stem and her chin points in her usual degree of superiority. I glance over at Nana, who mirrors the expression with white wine to match. I sip my diet coke. My sister makes me a little mad. Her mouth is overdrawn in caramel lipstick. Her highlights golden and fresh. She is beautiful and such a snob. These two will kill me this weekend. But she’s here now and I’m glad, or maybe relieved. I’m not going to overthink it. Herding us to the Chinese buffet for dinner was her idea, All-you-can-eat puts Nana in a good mood. Nana, however, smiles easy enough and her saggy face seems small under the white cap of feathery hair, but I know better. The room bustles around us like a train station with winding red silk lanterns dangling off the ceiling. People roam the buffet, eating long past stopping, until they almost explode, and the yellow fish in the tank are barely swimming, staring blandly at me. I haven’t spoken a word, and won’t, unless they make me.
Annie
