Saturday, business was brisk at the store. Deb and I coped with the surge of people after a slow week of ‘getting things done.’ At one point three women in brand new, bright pink t-shirts walked in. They were easy to spot in the wave of bodies crowding the tables but seemed familiar with the store and moved en mass as they talked and tasted. I threw furtive glances their way, trying to read the front of their shirts, stretched over aging torsos. As the crowd thinned and they came to the check-out desk, I was able to greet them.
The youngest was not a day over 65, petite at 4’2″, and had a perfect Lucille Ball red hair-do. There is no other word for it. It was a do. The middle sister had had a ‘little work done’ and her platinum curls were reminiscent of Dolly Parton in a cute bob-cut. The eldest sister was so “New Hampshire Native” she almost didn’t look like she was from the same family. Her teeth were bad, her hair was functionally short and gray and her body was saggy and filled out her t-shirt. Finally, I was able to read the slogan, “Three sisters, can you guess who is evil and who is good?”
We joked good-naturedly and when Deb’s father appeared in the door he joined in my gentle teasing. They are staying at a campground a few towns over (I can only imagine…) and have this reunion a couple of times a year. “Yes, we’ll be back in hunting season. Our husbands all get together for deer camp.” I envied their easy comradery.
Some day, I want to wear a pink t-shirt declaring my sisterhood and act totally silly.