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Uh-huh.... She came to you first? ..."
    My mother covered the receiver with one hand and
whispered to me that Nini got her period! Yesterday!
    Whoop-dee-doo. I've had my period since I was eleven. It's supposed to he this big deal, like you're all of a
sudden a woman the minute it happens. And now, if you
wanted to, you could get pregnant. Oooooo. Trust me,
when you get it, it's not all that magical. lieu don't feel
more grown-up or anything. Just crampy. And fat.
    Anyway, I don't know why my mother xN ould get herself so worked up over Nini. I mean, who cares.'
    My cousin Janine Barrett may be my age, but she is my
polar opposite in every way. First of all, she is four-foot-sixpractically a dwarf. And she's a gymnast, which means she
competes all over the country and weighs about seventy five pounds, leotard included. She thinks anything over
eighty pounds is fat.

    "Is Nini home yet!" my mother said. "I want to talk to
her. I want to say congratulations."
    I grabbed a few grapes from the hunch on the kitchen
table and ran upstairs before my mother could make me
get on the phone with Nini and congratulate her.
    The last time I saw Nini, which was Thanksgiving, she
made a comment I will never, ever forget. We were up in
my room getting ready for bed, and we were standing in
front of the mirror brushing our hair. I remember because
it was the first time I'd ever seen Nini wearing a bra. She
still didn't look like she needed one, but there it was. It
had a little yellow butterfly in the center.
    We were standing around in our underwear like we'd
done a million times before, since we were two years old.
No big deal. And then, she said it. "Wow, Isabelle. You're
getting big."
    "What?" I said. I wasn't sure I'd heard her right.
    Nini kept right on brushing her hair. "What size are
you now, anyway.'"
    I crossed my arms over my chest. "I don't know. My
moI11 buys my bras."
    "Not your hooks, dummy. I mean, what size are you?"
    I opened my mouth to say none of your business, but no
words came out.
    Nini put her brush down on the bureau and turned to
face me. "What do you weigh now, Belly? Like one-ten.'"
    I grabbed the closest thing to me, which was Nini's
sleeping hag, and wrapped it around my body. I bit my lip
hard, so I wouldn't cry.

    True story. See why I'm not planning on talking to her
anytime soon?
    Upstairs, I lay down on Mom's bed and listened in on
the phone conversation. This is not as hard as you would
think. All you have to do is pick up the receiver really
carefully and try not to make any sudden movements.
Also, you should cover the mouthpiece with your hand in
case you feel the urge to sneeze.
    "You're not getting any younger, Beth," I could hear
Aunt Weezy saying. "I hate to break it to you, but the big
four-five is just around the corner."
    My mother said, "For you too."
    "True," Weezy said. "But, well ... have you thought
about kicking up your heels a little? Getting your hair
foiled, maybe? Something?"
    My mother snorted.
    "Well?" said Weezy.
    My mother said, "No, I haven't thought about it." And
then she turned things around. "Have you thought about
getting your hair foiled?"
    Aunt Weezy didn't answer.
    "Well?"
    "Honey," my aunt said quietly.
    "What?" said my mom.
    There was a pause.
    "What, Louise? Just say it."
    "Bethy," Weezy said, her voice soft. "Won't you even
think about starting to date again?"
    I could feel my stomach contract, squeezing in on
itself.
    "Beth?"

    My mother wasn't saying a thing, but I wanted to
scream into the phone NO!!! She won't think about starting
to date again!
    "I know this is hard for you to hear," Weezy continued.
"I know it's painful. But, honey, there comes a time when
you have to ... you know ... life does go on."
    "Louise," Mom said. She took a breath. "I'm fine.
We're all ... fine. Life is going on, in its way."
    "Okay," said Weezy.
    "Can you understand.'"
    "Yes. But this conversation is always ... I mean, nothing is really ...