I leave work very late. Still have to stop by the house, get ready and only then go to Martha’s house for the ill-fated dinner. If only my sisters knew how difficult it is to have a job in my field and, on top of that, to be successful. I entered my company at a very low level, only managing to rise slowly and with a lot of resilience. Mean people can say bad things, that I had it easy because of my looks, but none of this affects me: I know how hard I worked to get where I am. If my sisters knew what it is to be a multinational brand manager, they would value me more. It’s a constant pressure, the client is never satisfied, asks impossible things of us, with demanding tasks and commitments that can’t be postponed.

When I get to my room, I have to choose between four or five dresses, but I can’t decide which one will be the most appropriate, so I choose the one I think I will feel the best in. Whatever it is, I know my dear sisters will criticize it. I leave for Martha’s with the notion that I won’t arrive at the appointed time. I hate being late, professionally I never do it and I hate it when it happens in my personal life. Having a good car is of no use with the traffic at the end of the day, but more honking, less creative maneuvering,

I manage to get to my destination. I ring the doorbell of Martha’s apartment, certain that Helen has arrived. Yes, she shows up as soon as I greet my older sister.

- My dear, you look younger and younger - Helen says in her sarcastic tone, mocking my obvious tired look. I hadn’t counted on her entrance being like this, killing.

- And you are getting thinner and thinner - I counter, looking at her sloppy body.

We stare at each other, like in an Old West duel, waiting for one of us to draw the gun and the other to be faster, making the killing shot without complacency.

- How nice it is that the three sisters are together - interrupts Martha with an uncomfortable hug that lasts forever.

- Always the same monotony - I say looking at Helen.

- Not everybody has a monotonous life - she answers enigmatically.

- Our sister has something new, what is it? - I ask, trying to provoke her.

- I have nothing new to tell her - Helen sulks.

- Come on, you got yourself a new boyfriend, is that it? - I ask with a sarcastic smile. She stares at me, looking like she wants to skin me alive.

- Helen is not interested in meeting new men, she’s already had her fill - Martha defends her.

- But she’s very beautiful - countered David, Martha’s disgusting husband who has made a pass at me countless times. She pretends not to see, which makes the situation even more pathetic. They have such a dysfunctional marriage, I wonder when my sister will open her eyes.

- Tell your sisters who it is - I ask, now a bit jokingly.

- Helen doesn’t have anyone, let’s leave her alone - says Martha, wanting to play the role of big sister, which annoys me a lot. The time has passed when she had some authority to do that, now it’s just ridiculous. The topic of conversation changes radically. They start talking about the weather and their kids, so I shut up. I remember even more why I hate these dinners.

Next Chapter: Helen - January 8th evening