Hector's Holiday

Lilith was the pretty one. This was a fact that seemed unfair given that the sisters were triplets. Nevertheless, it was, indeed, a fact. Georgette, was believed to be wickedly brilliant and Esther was solidly loyal and dependable, qualities always overvalued by grandparents and generally undervalued by everyone else.

The sisters had, each in her own way, reached their twenty-fifth birthday. Lilith awoke with a sense of apprehension. This was a rare event for Lilith, who generally awoke with nothing, but a start. Today will be a busy day, she thought, resting her head upon her white pillow case trimmed with lace. Running through the day’s itinerary in her head, Lilith felt no sense of joy and was unable to force out said mirky apprehensions. It had been six months since Lilith had broken up with her boyfriend and lost her job. The two changes had happened nearly simultaneously as Lilith was, at the time, employed by her boyfriend. She had since been unable to find new employment, being both over and under qualified for every opening... and lacking strong references given her history of inappropriate work place relations. And so, Lilith had been forced into Esther’s alcove, where she currently lived rent free.

She had done her best to dress up the space to make it feel like home. She had covered the small double bed, that Esther had scrounged up and shoved into the corner, with quality linen, a soft down duvet and satin pale blue throw pillows, purchased and hung new curtains for the window, and new shades for the lamps, and had hung some of her favorite framed pictures on the walls. They were nearly all black and white photos of architectural features. The alcove was her personal oasis in the depressing expanse of Esther’s second (or third) hand furniture, mismatched and tearing in odd places, her posters tacked and tapped (crooked) to flaking walls and her seemingly careless strewing of nick knacks, books and magazines. Esther may be clean, efficient, and organized at work, but her home screamed ‘I have given up’ into Lilith’s face each morning when she opened her alcove’s pocket doors to go in search of coffee.

Speaking of coffee, Lilith could hear Esther in the kitchen grinding beans. Snuggling lower into her bed, she threw the duvet over her face. She would get up when the coffee was ready.

Esther knocked on the closed pocket doors, set the freshly poured cup of coffee (whole milk, three sugars) down on the floor, and turned on the television. “Say Yes To The Dress or Barefoot Contessa?” she asked her sister as Lilith settled onto the rug, coffee in hand.

“Say Yes To The Dress.”

The sisters sat in silence for a minute sipping their coffee as Randy and the other shop employees corseted young women into nearly identical white dresses.

“Happy birthday,” Lilith said, still facing the tv.

“Ditto” replied Esther. “Hey, where’s Hector?” Hector was a moose. Technically, Hector was now only a moose head. Their grandfather had, reportedly, shot Hector on a trip to Alaska as a young man and had had Hector’s head stuffed, mounted, and hung in the family dining room; much to the horror of his wife. Esther had inherited him upon her grandfather’s passing.

“Holiday,” responded Lilith.

“Do we know when he is expected back?”

“Hard to say,” Lilith took a long drink of her coffee.

“Can you find out?”

“Mhm. I’ll call his travel agent on Monday.” Hector was, of course, at the back of Lilith’s storage unit, inside of a very large box, where Lilith had hidden him after being scared one too many times in the dark. “So have you decided what to wear tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“For the party,” Lilith stated turning to her sister with the sudden and very real fear that Esther had forgotten their birthday bash. The party was planned for Pitanja, a restaurant downtown, which the girls all liked, but didn’t love. They had had a terrible time deciding upon a site as they each preferred a different location, type of food, decor, ect. Pitanja had the distinction of having a helpful and kind hearted proprietor and strong drinks.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I’m wearing that blue dress.”

“The one with the tulle?”

“What?” Esther turned to her sister in confusion. “One with tulle? I don’t own a dress with tulle. The blue one. You know the halter with the bit of sparkle at the bottom.”

“Right. About that. I may have added tulle to the bottom of that dress.”

Esther paused. Breathed deeply. “May have added...?”

“Right.”

“Meaning?”

“... I added tulle to the bottom of that dress.”

Esther’s head fell onto the back of the couch. “Right.” She went to her room in search of the now tulle trimmed blue dress.

Lilith pulled out the box of nail polish, polish remover, and nail tools that she kept under the couch and was sorting through little bottles for possible perfect colors when her sister returned.

“So, may I ask why you added this?” she questioned pulling the tulle forward by the tips of two fingers as though it were a dirty rag or an old gym sock.

“It’s more festive this way. Really Esther it was so ordinary before. You don’t want to be ordinary on your twenty-fifth birthday, right?”

“I actually don’t terribly mind being ordinary, Lil. And I don’t see how looking like an aged acid tripping ballerina is an improvement.”

“What do you think of this color?” Lilith asked holding up a pearly pink bottle.

“Seems a little tame for you.”

“It’s for you.”

“Perfect.”

Lilith and Ester arrived at the restaurant early to help decorate and to make sure that everything was finished to Lilith’s specifications. Esther didn’t terribly care about decorations and knew that her friends would not care terribly either and Georgette had made no requirements apart from low lighting and space for the band. Standing in the middle of the dinning hall, swathed in pale pink spidery cashmere with a silk fuchsia cocktail dress underneath, Lilith was beside herself with what was still undone. The floating candles were not floating, the whimsical bouquets were both not whimsical and still on the ground... which Esther thought rather whimsical... and the mismatched china that Lilith had procured for the occasion had, seemingly, gone missing. This simply would not do. While, Esther’s sweet and homely knitting friends would be pleased to simply spend the evening with each other and Georgette's friends would be inevitably dissatisfied and spend the evening critiquing the cost and environmental affect of the party, Lilith’s BUFFDs (Best University Friends Forever Devoted) would notice, care, and judge based upon the quality of the soiree. The BUFFD girls held themselves, and each other, up to a high standard. This made sure that they were all successful party planners, wives, future CEOs, and PTA organizers. Lilith was feeling a little nervous about gathering all of the BUFFDs together due to her continued “underemployment” (as she preferred to call it), but would certainly not add the additional shame of a poorly executed party to her list of recent failures. The damned candles would float if it killed her.

“I can’t remember, did the Romans RSVP?” shouted Lilith from atop the ladder borrowed from the shop next door.

“Oh, God you invited Romans to this thing?”

“What?”

“What?...”

There was a long pause. Lilith climbed down to the last rung and turned to Esther. “The Romans.”

“Are they a family?” Esther questioned, hesitantly.

“Are you joking?” Lilith retorted, shortly.

“Lil, swear to God I have no idea what you are asking me right now.” Esther responded from beneath the table to which she was securing the last tablecloth (embroidered linen).

“The Romans, the romans, Esther.”

“Uhhu.”

“Georgi’s friends from Rome. The guys who mooch off everyone. The artists. You know the Romans.”

“Really? I was supposed to know what you were talking about? I was picturing gladiators decked out in pink tulle and rose petals hired for the event. Seriously Lil, I have no idea if Georgi’s friends are coming or not.”

Lilith gave her sister and exaggerated eye roll. “Well, I was not the one in charge of the guest list now was I?”

“Right, the guest list. The one I wrote, and checked, and triple checked, and gave to Marco. I didn’t memorize the damned thing. Are you sure the gift table needs to be that large? I mean, don’t you think it sends the wrong message?”

“It’s a birthday party, people should bring presents.”

“Right, but they don’t have to... the table might make people feel bad.”

Lilith stared at her sister, one eyebrow raised. “The table is perfect.”

Lilith had always loved her birthday. She loved sharing it with her sisters because she felt it was an excuse for a larger more outrageous event. Other people might have rules or ideas about smaller more economical parties, but as Lilith figured, they were celebrating three lives at once, a miracle of biology, an extravagant affair was called for. As kids, their mom used to make a huge deal every year. She would wake them up in the morning with a cookie and a cup of cocoa in bed. Then they would have fresh fruit crepes for breakfast while watching their favorite cartoons... they never went to school on their birthday, regardless of the day it landed on. After breakfast the girls would bath, brush and curl their hair... each girl with a slightly different hair do, each a different colored ribbon... and then their mother would present to Lilith, Esther, and Georgette individually the party dress she had made that year. Every year the dress was different, every year more outrageous. The girls would wear the dresses all day, to the zoo, the amusement park, the beach, the museum, where ever they went, the triplets would be dolled up to the point of absurdity. Lilith loved it, all the girls did at first, but Esther and Georgette began to be bothered by the stares as they got older. What had started as an adorable tradition when they were one, was less adorable, as the girls turned twelve and then thirteen. The dresses grew to accommodate their size and breasts, but not their maturity levels or personalities. But the girls always wore their dresses, kissed their mother, and thanked her... even as the photos recorded their waning enthusiasm.

Esther secretly knew this tradition was the reason for the tulle sticking out the bottom of her hem, and like with her mother she would grit her teeth and bare the absurdity for the sake of tradition.

Lilith always missed their mother most on their birthday, but she tried not to think about it. Lilith was good at being happy when she was supposed to be happy, not simply pretending to be happy, but actually being happy. It was like a light switch. Their mother had not had that switch. She could pretend, but not very well. Generally she was very happy or very low. Sometimes there were warning signs, but not always. But the girls’ birthday was always good. Until their fifteenth. Ten years ago, maybe that explained Lilith’s early morning apprehensions? A subconscious calculation of round and double digit numbers. Their mom had missed their fifteenth birthday, and subsequently every birthday after, a misdiagnoses combined with bad electro shock treatment. She didn’t leave the home very often anymore. She never felt like celebrating.

“Where is Georgette?” hissed Lilith as the guests began to arrive. “This is her party too, or has she forgotten? Gets away with doing almost none of the work and is going to waltz in here late and get as much of the credit at the two of us. This is so like her. Sarah! How are you darling? Oh you look gorgeous. Where is George?” she said turning to entering guests. “Seriously, Esther, I am giving her ten more minutes and then I am going and dragging her ass in here!”

The ten minutes came and went as guests arrived, sipped passing drinks, admired the whimsical bouquets, and commented on each other’s dresses. Esther’s friends circled up around Esther, deflecting small talk. Georgette’s friends hung close to the walls discussing current events and new wave punk. Lilith’s friends mingled in the middle.

“Okay, I am going to get her.” Lilith announced to her sister, pulling her away from her protective cohorts. “She has to be here when dinner is served or the whole thing will look ridiculous. Can you hold things together while I’m gone?”

“Why don’t you just stop worrying and enjoy the party. She’ll come when she comes, Lil.”

“Can you hold things together, Esther? I can’t do everything myself here.”

“Okay.” Esther finished her glass of champagne. “Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck. I know exactly where she is. I just need a firm grip and a sharp stiletto.”

“Well, you certainly have both of those...” Esther muttered to herself as she turned away.

Lilith was happy to see the rain had stopped as she climbed out of the cab in front of Pierre’s building. Pierre was Georgette’s long term, on again - off again lover. Yes lover. As much as Lilith loathed saying that word, she realized that it was the only proper description for a man who liked fucking her sister but wouldn’t make any commitment to her... she, perhaps obviously, also abhorred saying the word “fucking”.

Pierre lived in a run down loft above a toy store. One of those stores that sold wooden train sets and porcelain dolls along side Spiderman action figures. The loft looked dark, but Lilith attacked the buzzer aggressively anyway. The store was having a sale on pogo sticks and there was one standing erect and illuminated in the window. Lilith could not remember if she had ever tried out a pogo stick. Ridden one? Was that the right word? She pressed the buzzer again. Someone let her in.

The elevator was, as always, broken. Lilith knew this because she had not infrequently had occasion to drag her sister out of or away from Pierre’s place. Her heels clicked on the title of the staircase as she climbed to the third floor landing. The apartment door was ajar.

“Hello,” Lilith called leaning her head inside. “Georgi? Pierre? It’s Lilith. Did you forget what today is?”

There was no answer.

Lilith pushed the door open and entered the dark apartment. She saw her sister sitting in the window. “Hey Georgi, common. You are so late. How could you do this to me...”

There was a loud bang and Lilith felt fire rip through her stomach.

She sat down, hard on the floor. Her spidery pink cashmere was wet to the touch. Lilith looked back at the window. “Lilith” Georgette said, still holding the gun.

Lilith didn’t remember the paramedics arriving. She didn’t remember that they had to use the defibrillator on her when her heart stopped. She just remembered thinking who will tell Esther where Hector has gone on holiday?, as she closed her eyes.