“Well, there’s nothing to be sorry about. It was just a simple misunderstanding.” Vivian’s eyes widened with her attempt at bright and cheerful. If she’d had her Fire & Ice lipstick handy she’d have given her lips a quick swipe. “I mean, Edward told me all about it. It’s all in the Daily Record article. I’ll have a copy sent to you.”

“Vivian.” Vera, not fooled by the phony tone, sounded like her usual harsh self again. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“Ha!” Vivian barked into the receiver, knowing good and goddamned well Vera was back to her irritated tone, and wasn’t trying to be nice. “Well, I should be the one thanking you, then, shouldn’t I? I know how difficult it is for you to be nice.”

“I take it back,” Vera spat, and her tone graduated from irritated to shouting. “Everything always goes your way, and the one time it doesn’t, it’s ‘Oh, poor Vivian, poor, poor, Vivian,’ and you still act like a spoiled brat!”

Vivian felt tired. This hadn’t been her day. Your wedding day! She tried to think of a good response, but before she could, Vera struck again.

“You deserve this, you ungrateful bitch!”

And, with that, Vivian heard a sharp click, disconnecting the call.

She stood there, stunned. The word “bitch” rang in her ears and she held the phone in the air, staring at it. Then she slammed it down onto the base in a delayed response, screaming to the empty room, “YOU’RE THE BITCH!”

No one else was in the house, so Vivian didn’t bother with a pillow, but screamed out loud as she stomped up the stairs. She went straight to her hiding place in the bedroom closet and fished out the packet of cigarettes. She took the cigarettes to the tiny attic room, where she pushed open the sash and nudged the table with the typewriter to the side so she could scoot the chair close to the window. Smoking really was a filthy habit, and she didn’t want the smell in the room.

As she inhaled and blew the smoke in streams out the window she replayed what she could remember of the conversation. “Bitch.” “Everything goes your way.” Everything didn’t go her way. NOTHING WENT HER WAY!

By the third cigarette her anger had simmered a little. She considered the fact that, even though Vera hadn’t said anything nice, the know-it-all also hadn’t said, “I told you so.” Goddamned Vera, she thought. She makes my ass tired.

What could Vivian say about her sister Vera? What did anyone say about Vera? She had a strong personality, that was one thing. And a confidence as big as her backside, that was another. She was the oldest, the brashest, and the bossiest of the McGinty sisters. A know-it-all of the first degree, you didn’t dare try to argue with her about anything. According to her, what she knew was law. When they were little and would go marching around the backyard, Vera was always the one wearing a pillowcase as a cape and pumping a stick up and down, leading the procession. No one was spared when Vera was in one of her moods. Henry’ll have to pay a girl to marry him. Vivian could dress up as a jack-o’-lantern on Halloween with those teeth of hers. Will could get himself beaten up by a girl. And Violet, well, Vera never really picked on Violet at all. She was twelve when Violet was born, and Vera usually just treated her like a little doll.