Chapter Three – Fifth Avenue
Relief to turn away
And make what I could of the street outside.
New York City! But
All I saw was dark and dingy.
On Fifth Avenue; nonstop parade of glittery storefronts &
Entitled shoppers.
Glamorous trousseau fun!
. Our limo pulls up to Questrina,
Sets off parking lights;
A woman rushed through the double doors offering
Glossy green dress bags in outstretched hands-
Driver swept them to the car and we were off again.
“Your clothes,” explained Verne.
Excitement, confusion; the
Disappointment that
Always follows bait and switch:
You get SOMETHING
Just not what you expected.
Had my dress been chosen for me?
“I thought Maribel and I-“
“Oh, there’s lots for you to do,”
He dismissed.
Surprised he didn’t offer
Lollies to distract me.
“Here we are,” says would-be groom.
“My place.”
A skyscraper on Fifth Avenue?
Shiny red and black doorman – general
Of a third world country –
Rushed the curb. “Your lordship.”
I thought my ears unplugged.
Had I heard this right?
Did he speak American and
was Verne in fact, “a lord”?
I should have watched those damned
Downton Abbey episodes my folks begged me to see
instead of proudly sequestering with Japanese anime.
Limo driver brought all bags –
He had to use a different elevator.
43 floor ride,
black & gold enameled door thrown open on the penthouse
there stood Mirabel.
Chapter Four : The Lost Sister
My eyes filled with tears and I realized
How much I’d feared that
This was all a scam.
“Darling!”
She waved her skinny arms and kissed the air.
“Mwah! Mwah! You escaped!”
I couldn’t touch her –
We laughed and laughed.
She gave Verne a burning look –
“Get us drinks”
And dragged me –
Literally DRAGGED me into
A double-doored bedroom and
Swept me down upon a white flokati rug.
We were children again –
Conspiring & strategizing together or
She played all the parts and I
Gazed on adoringly.
She took control with those hypnotic eyes
While my school self asked,
IS this really Mirabel?
So much smaller than my memory –
Disappearing before my eyes in fact,
As she had managed to do my whole entire
Life; darker – blond all gone –
I know I’m taller now, but how could this tiny thing
Have ever been a supermodel?
Someone rattled at the door – Mirabel called –
“We’re dressing!”
Pulled me into giggle –
“Leave it!”
Covered my mouth signalling with her
Humongous eyes –
Crawling to the door she –
Peeked out –
Pulled in a
Champagne bucket and a pair of flutes.
“Grooms get in the WAY!”
She laughed and toasted me.
“But men! You know!”
She gasped and gagged as if
She’d never had such wine.
I sipped sedately.
Judgingly
As I’d learned to do with grown-ups.
Who was this Mirabel?
The way she carved me
With her eyes
She must be real
Yet something smelled
Imposture.
I just don’t know –
I’m far too new –
It’s far too weird.
She leaned to touch my hair.
“I always thought
They should have named you
Anne.”
The door opened and Verne stood over us
Looking down reprovingly.
Mirabel blanched –
I thought because she’d said
He’s not to enter –
But he was mild enough
Laying dress bags along the bed
Reproachfully
As if to ask
“How can you dress without dresses?”
Then he was gone
The door slightly left ajar.
Mirabel clicked it closed with her foot.
She called, “See you at dinner!”
I felt sorry for poor Verne
But when we heard the outer door click Mirabel rose
and unzipped the bags.
She topped off her glass with
Vodka from a bottle by the bed.
“It’s such bad champagne,” she excused,
“In Europe, babies drink this stuff.”
I studied the bottle –
Beau Joie Brut Special Cuvée –
A brute champagne.
Tasted fine to me – like
Sharpest winter air.
Mirabel offered her bottle.
“No thanks.”
She drained her tulip glass.
”You’ve certainly changed,” she commented.
Did I drink vodka at eight years old?
I said, “So have you.”
“I’m darker now. Verne wouldn’t look at blondes.”
Too bad, I thought. I’d hoped she’d find a different type of guy.
“Is he really a lord?”
Maribel rolled her eyes.
“Unfortunately.” At my surprise she added –
“It always seems to mean you can’t do
Anything you want.”
She shrugged.
“At least the restaurants like it.”
“And you’ll be –“
“Lady Verne.”
She shrugged; unexcited
By the prospect. Seemed
The opposite of what
Old Maribel would have thought.
“So, you just met?”
“Oh no, we’ve been together FOREVER –
And only now we tie the knot. But you!”
She spun me all around.
“You’re so tall! And thin!”
“I eat like a horse”
I apologized
I grow too fast – all my friends are vegan
But I eat
Everything –
“I can’t seem to fast.”
“Wait till after the wedding,”
Said Maribel
“Then just do a purge.
“Think you’d fit a four?”
The dress she pulled was pale gold,
fairytale dress with endless puffy skirt.
My gasp relaxed Mirabel’s face.
She smiled.
“I’m sure I could!”
almost dropped my wineglass in
my excitement to try it on.
Stripped down to my unsightly sports bra
And boy’s brief pants.
“Can’t wear a bra with this one,” says Mirabel.
“I’ll do you up.”
She gazed too long –
A man’s gaze I thought –
I turned away.
Alysse Aallyn 
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