In Her Shoes Read Free Page B

months, purchased just two weeks ago, and, she'd thought, still snug in its shoe box. One silver sandal now stained and splotched with the sticky residue of she didn't want to know what. "Hey, those are mine!" Rose said, shaking her sister by her dress. Maggie, she thought, feeling the familiar fury coursing through her veins. Maggie takes everything. "Fuck youuuu!" Maggie brayed, and twisted her body from side to side, trying to free herself from Rose's grasp. "I can't believe you!" Rose hissed, hanging on to the straps as Maggie thrashed, and the toes of Maggie's shoes—her shoes— kicked at her shins. Insult to injury, she thought, imagining the bruises she'd find in the morning. "I haven't even worn them yet!" "Easy there," the bartender called, clearly hoping that this was going to turn into a sister-on-sister catfight. Rose ignored him and half dragged, half carried her sister out of the bar and deposited Maggie in her passenger seat. "If you're going to throw up," Rose advised, yanking the seat belt around her sister, "give me a little advance warning." "I'll send a telegram," Maggie muttered, reaching into her purse for her lighter. "Oh, no," said Rose, "don't even think about smoking in here." She flicked on the lights, wrenched the steering wheel to the right,
     
In Her Shoes 15
     
and started driving out of the deserted parking lot and onto the highway, heading toward the Ben Franklin Bridge and Bella Vista, where Maggie had the most recent in her extended series of apartments. "Not this way," said Maggie. "Okay," said Rose. Her hands tightened on the wheel in frustration. "So where are we going?" "Take me to Sydelle's," Maggie mumbled. "Why?" "Just take me, okay? Jesus. I don't need to play twenty questions." "Of course not," Rose said tightly. "I'm just your personal taxi driver. No need to give me an explanation. Just call my number and I'll show up." "Bitch," Maggie said thickly. Her head lolled against the back of the seat, rolling back and forth each time Rose yanked on the wheel. "You know," Rose said, in her most reasonable tone, "it is possible to attend one's high school reunion and not wind up drinking so much vodka that you don't even notice that you've passed out in the ladies' room." "Whaddare you, a DARE officer?" asked Maggie. "It's possible," Rose continued, "to simply attend, to reacquaint yourself with old friends, to dance, to dine, to drink responsibly, to wear clothes that you've bought for yourself instead of the ones you've taken from my closet ..." Maggie opened her eyes and stared at her sister, noting the large white plastic hair clip. "Hey, 1994 called," she said. "It wants its hairstyle back." "What?" "Don't you know that nobody wears those anymore?" "So why don't you tell me what the really fashionable girls are wearing when they have to go pick up their drunk sisters in the middle of the night," said Rose. "I'd love to know. Have Nicky and Paris Hilton launched a line for us yet?"
     
16 Jennifer weiner
     
"Whatever," Maggie mumbled, staring out the window. "Are you happy this way?" Rose continued. "Drinking every night, running around with God knows who ..." Maggie rolled down the window and ignored her. "You could go back to school," said Rose. "You could get a better job." "And be just like you," Maggie said. "Wouldn't that be fun? No sex in, what's it been, Rose, three years? Four? When was the last time a guy looked at you?" "I could have plenty of guys looking at me if I wore your clothes," Rose said. "Like they'd fit," said Maggie. "Your leg wouldn't fit into this dress." "Oh, right," said Rose. "I forgot that being a size zero is the most important thing in the world. Because it's obviously made you so successful and happy." She honked the horn longer than was necessary to get the car in front of her to move. "You've got problems," Rose said. "You need help." Maggie threw back her head, cackling. "And you're just perfect, right?" Rose shook her head, thinking of what she