JAMIE AND Do you know from sweep eyelashes Her by Sandy Austin Jamie? almond hex her pinked skin. framing over her shoulders haix falls ebony Her my sister Our Family FLUFF eyes toue and. ar her eyebrows. & VETYONE Says she’s the prettiest in town. Do you think so? 9’ ve seen her mouth in a frown and hex forehead with a aveased wrinkle. She's not pretty Once mama named then. +| bought hera Huff, pure ivory Ritten cause she's 40 pretty. 9'd watch ker smooth Fluff’ pink ‘i 4 fur and tie ribEons on his neck. She'd pull calling a piece of “Here, Fluff would yaur all through the house pretty Ritty.”’ acqunper behind her pawing at the yarn. When O'd ask to play, she'd say no. I’m not pretty. One day Huff disappeared. Jamie oried for three days. Tears streaked her pinked skin and puffed her almond our house, J hear a smothered meowing. Pretty kitties don’t like water you know. Diane “Pat,” Donoviel the wet beads fell out of her mouth, “do you think that Mama will still wave to me like she use to? You know, start little then get real big? Grandma can’t do it nearly as well as when Mamia use to. She does O.K. when she starts out real teeny just with her fingers, but when she tries waving a real big one with her whole arm, I hate to watch that flab jiggle under her arm.” “Sophie!” I said, “Grandma isn’t fat.” “IT know, but she’s old and all old ladies have jiggly arms.” Sophie’s blonde pigtails bounced. One of the red ribbons that matched her cotton jumper was untied, so I reached up and tied it to match the other bow. We were quiet again. Sophie and I both looked down the street when we heard Mr. Spencer’s old truck. You could always tell when Mr. Spencer left for work and came from work, EYES. Sometimes when I walk past the pond in the Lack of Sophie, my little sister, and I were sitting on the curb in front of our house, waiting. We were waiting to be a whole family again. It’s going to be a big adjustment, I thought to myself. After all, I’m in high school, but eh is only three and Sophie is six. It’s going to be hard on them. They don’t even remember Mom as she used to be — a model with all kinds of pretty clothes. She used to dress us kids all up and then take us down town to shop. I wrapped my arms around my legs so the spilling gutter water wouldn't get my yellow polka dot dress wet. Sophie watched me do it, then did the same. I went on thinking. It will be a long time before Sophie realizes that Mom has polio. She won’t be able to swing with her, or plant flowers in the back yard, or have walking races. I looked over at Sophie as she sucked on the blue heart beads Mom gave her just before she went to the hospital, almost a year ago. Sophie wears those beads constantly, I thought. We couldn’t even get them off of her when she slept or when she wore her green velvet dress. Dad has restrung them at least a dozen times. My thoughts were interrupted when Sophie spoke. because that old truck rattled down the street like it was on its last trip. He passed us and waved. He pulled the truck up right in front of his house, next to ours. That old truck stayed parked there no matter what the weather was like. Mr. Spencer got out of the truck and slammed the door. “What you kids doing out here all dressed up?” Sophie spoke up, “Today’s real special for us. Mama’s coming home and we're waiting for her and Dad.” “Where’s that brother of yours?” OE uss stayed with Grandma last night. They should be here soon,” I said. “Well, that sure is nice that your mother is coming home. Tell her Winnefred and I will be coming over to see her when she is settled.” 23