Secrets they keep

Cassie coughed a raspy cough in her sleep and I went to check.  She stopped by the time I got there, eyelids fluttering in a peaceful sleep.  Light creeped through the catty-corner door.  I tried to be all sneaky, slipping out of my shoes so that the flip flop wouldn’t give me away as I fast-walked back for my camera.  I silenced it and held it up but my sneaky wasn’t so much.  We see you taking pictures, they said.


Torri comes home late from work.  Lately, she’s been slipping in to Kennedy’s room.  They sit and they talk–I know not what about.  Sometimes in hushed whispers and other times I worry that they’ll wake the littles, but I don’t shush them.  Not ever.


When I was thirteen–maybe more–my mom considered another baby.  We were walking into the Mervyn’s when she mentioned it and I remember for a second that my heart soared at the thought.  Two little brothers and so desperately I wanted a sister.  We wouldn’t be the kind to share clothes and secrets, too much time had passed for any hope of that.  But still I wanted her.


She wasn’t to be, but my sisters would come, one way or another.


I don’t know their secrets, but I know they exist.  I don’t encourage it–exactly–because more often than not secrets are secrets because they’re dangerous or unhealthy or against the rules or all of that and more.  But sisters are sisters and secrets they will keep.

You don’t have to have one to know.


  1. I remember having many such conversations with my sisters…and I hope my girls share those same kind of “kindred spirit” moments as they grow up.

    P.S. Love these not-so-secret pictures. ;)

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