Spinster? Read Free

God forbid their whole perfect family image be tarnished. No one was fooled. Tess knew better, her parents as well, but no one ever said it out loud. The fact that her sister was usually on her second martini by two in the afternoon had been the main tip off. But, in Bristol's circles, this was completely acceptable if done at the country club, while wearing a tennis skirt.  
    Awkward silence followed Bristol's thin jab at her husband. Tess felt the need to say something to fill the void. "Mmmm, this Asti Spumante is delish,"she joked. Her mother only scoffed. "Tess, this is the Ritz Carlton. It's Crystal, or at the very least Veuve Clicquot...if they went the cheap route, right, William?"  
    "Yes, certainly," her father agreed.
    Tess sighed and wondered, for the millionth time, how she was part of this family and how she managed to keep the silver spoon out of her hindquarters. Maybe it had something to do with her underpaying job, not to mention friends who would never let her pull any of that hoity-toity mess with them. Whatever the reason was, for the millionth time, she was grateful.
    The bride and groom were announced and entered the room to an exuberant round of applause. Tess said a prayer of thanks for the distraction, slugging the remaining liquid from her glass.

    "Maybe we should cut Aunt Lillian off?" Bristol suggested, her tone annoyed. Her tight platinum chignon made her features look even more severe than usual. Would it kill her to wear her hair down? When Bristol was little, she would run barefoot through their yard, a wild mane of golden locks flowing in the wind behind her. "Catch me if you can, slow poke," she'd call. Tess following close behind. Tess sighed, she missed the Bri from her memories.
    Tess crossed her arms. "Why? She's having a good time." Sure, Aunt Lillian was grinding on a bus boy right by the shrimp tower, but hey, at her age she had to get her freak on whenever she could. The poor guy did look like a small animal with his leg in a trap—his eyes darting around for someone, anyone, to come to his rescue.
    Bristol snorted delicately. "Tess...you can almost see her underwear. I'm sure she's embarrassing Mom."
    "Mom, or you?"
    "Both! You should be, too. It's mortifying." Bristol's eyes bugged as she spoke.
    "Bri, relax. She's not hurting anyone...ooh, well, maybe that hurt a little." They both sprung into action as their Aunt's legs started to slide apart into a hovering split. The bus boy was kind enough to lend a hand, even though it was evident that escape was his fondest Christmas wish. Tess made a mental note to slip him a twenty for mental duress.
    "We got it...go, run, dude." Tess nodded to the no doubt emotionally scarred youth as he sprinted for the kitchen. "We gotcha, Auntie Lil, we gotcha." Tess and Bristol flanked their aunt on both sides—the Warner sisters working in tandem for a brief moment in time. It felt nice.
    "Oh, girls. Thank you. I think I may have popped the threading on my girdle." They eased her into a seat. "That young man was such a lovely dancer, wasn't he?" Both sisters gave each other a look. If their great aunt considered the wide eyed corpse pose dancing, then who where they to correct her.
    "Sure, Aunt Lil...why don't you take five for a few minutes and I can get you some coffee?" Bristol suggested.
    "And I see some cake left," Tess threw out to sweeten the deal.
    "I guess I am a little tuckered out at the moment. My word, he was handsome, wasn't he? His hips reminded me of my Virgil, God rest him. Did I ever tell you the story of how we met?" She had, dozens of times, but they let her tell it again. It was a great story. "I was eighteen and my friends and I wanted to attend a dance at the local USO. My parents said no, that men about to be shipped off to war only wanted one thing...they were probably right." She snickered. "But I didn't care. I snuck out as soon as they went to sleep. It was the first time I ever defied my folks. Oh girls, it was worth