Sisterchicks Say Ooh La La! Read Online Free PDF Page A

dead-end jobs. With only a little coaxing from Amy and a little more coaching from Mark, I moved to Lexington and slowly finished my college degree. By the time I had my teaching credential, little Jeanette was seven and had a five-year-old sister, Elizabeth, and a two-year-old brother, David. I smiled at the memory of Amy’s favorite Monkee every time I heard her call her son Davy.
    My first decade in Lexington didn’t produce any spikes in my static love life. I was busy and happy, though, and involved in a solid church community. Lots of love came my way as an honorary member of Mark and Amy’s extended family. I found it ironic that Amy was now theone with a large family and I was “Aunt Lisa,” who lived in a nearby condo with pretty frills and an expansive collection of videos, which seemed to be the equivalent for Amy’s children to having an enviable collection of Barbies.
    My mission, I decided, was to slip Amy’s kids Hostess Ding Dongs and Sno Balls every chance I could. Amy’s objective was to make her kids do their chores, eat their vegetables, and write thank-you notes for every gift they received. She also insisted that her girls learn to hit a baseball and sit up straight in church.
    We were becoming each other’s mothers! Only better versions. At least in our opinions.
    Amy and I had established a settled rhythm to our friendship. We both acted as if we knew everything about the other. Then one summer afternoon I shocked Amy without meaning to. And then she shocked me right back.
    We were making the rounds to the neighborhood garage sales when we came across a metal fan like the one that kept us cool in Amy’s bedroom when we were growing up.
    “Look at this price tag!” Amy said. “Fifty dollars for what they’re calling a ‘vintage’ fan. Vintage! How do you like that? You and I aren’t old enough to be vintage.”
    “No, but your mother’s old fan was vintage. Doesn’t it make you feel nostalgic?” I touched the base of the solid fan. “I should buy it just so we can turn off the air conditioning one night and lie on our stomachs in front of the clanking fan and reminisce.”
    Amy smiled. “Remember the night we promised to be in each other’s weddings?”
    “How could I forget? That was the night you told me where babies come from.”
    “That’s right. Wow, it seems so long ago. If I never thanked you yet, Lisa, thanks for being there for me when each of my babies was born. And thanks, too, for all the other promises to me that you’ve kept.”
    My conscience felt a nudge. I’d been meaning to tell Amy something for a long time, but the right opportunity never came up. Drawing in a deep breath, I plugged the nose of my subconscious and plunged into the deep end of a topic I knew could potentially drown me.
    “Amy, I have to tell you something. I didn’t keep one promise.”
    “What? The bridesmaid promise?”
    “No, the promise I made about going to Paris with you.”
    She put down the green vase she had been examining on the “Everything Fifty Cents” table. “What are you talking about?”
    “I went to Paris. Without you.”
    Amy laughed. “Right! You went to Paris, Kentucky, for lunch last month on my birthday. So did I. Remember? I was the one the waiters sang to after they brought over the chocolate cake.”
    Amy’s favorite restaurant was located next to anantique store in the Lexington suburb. She loved to drive out of town, past the world-class thoroughbred pastures, and visit the darling lineup of shops in Paris, Kentucky. She always came home with a box of pastries from the Bon Jour Bakery.
    “No, Amy” I said firmly. “I went to the real Paris. In France.”
    “When?”
    “The summer I was twenty-two. I went with some women from work. We traveled to Paris and London.”
    Amy looked at me closely. “You’re not making this up. You really went to Paris.”
    I nodded.
    “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
    “Because, well … because I knew I’d