Nicole Smith, which is just nasty but, yeah, everyone will know my name and everyone will have an opinion. I don’t have to be a brain surgeon to figure out the gossip. It’ll be a ton of Monday morning quarterbacking on the rich and dysfunctional. Daddy always hates it when people do that with his team; he is going to hate it more when they do it with his family, a lot more.
I should feel bad about it but I don’t. He left me. I would never have left him.
Milan and Christy left me too but, unlike Daddy, those girls, and especially Milan, will bask in the publicity. I bet dead I will be the best friend they ever had. I bet Milan will take off her bright pinks and blues and put on an outrageous black dress for a day or two and strike a grief pose. If she keeps her eyes hidden under shades, no one will notice that they are dry.
It’s not that she didn’t love me once, it’s just that she wrote me off a while ago. Good for her; you’d think she was a Kelleher the way she can cut her losses.
As for Daddy, I think he’ll grieve, never publicly, and maybe not too much since he has his new family. Also it looks like the Lions are going to make the play-offs this year. But maybe, when he’s alone, he’ll think about me, and remember me, remember that I used to know how to make him proud, make him laugh.
I don’t know when that stopped exactly. Obviously, if I knew anything, I wouldn’t be here.
I would like to see Milan right now, her more than anyone else. She has a way with words, that fabulous blond. She would look at me lying here and say something funny, like she did when the three of us were getting settled on our flight that day to Aspen.
We were just three girls, but even in First Class we took up a lot of air space. I had Petal in her totally adorable Vuitton doggy clutch, which she hated, so she was barking frantically. Milan had brought along two huge pillows and three carry-ons. Only Christy, quiet and beautiful, with her small bag which fit neatly into the overhead compartment, wasn’t giving anyone a headache.
Christy was always like that, like a girl in a fairytale, or maybe Alice in Wonderland. Things happened around her but not to her. She has always appeared contented to follow along in Milan’s turbulent wake, being admired but never judged. I can see now, too late, how smart her choices were.
Milan had, as usual, attracted the attention of everyone in the plane. The poor passengers that had to get by her kept tripping over her ten mile legs which were hanging in the aisle because she said she was only comfortable sitting sideways in her seat. I was suffocating underneath her pillows since she had propped them between us and was leaning back on me. Lucky Christy was across the aisle. At take-off Milan said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “I hate flying commercial and ahhbviously Petal does too. That’s why she won’t shut up.”
I giggled into the pillows, thinking that since she and Petal had only flown non-commercially once before, this was a pretty sudden onset dislike.
She twisted her head around and winked at me. “I know what you’re thinking, Care Bear, but if a girl doesn’t set high standards for herself, how will she ever become Queen of the Universe?”
“ Queen of the Universe, Mills? Is that who you’re going to be when we grow up? What will Christy and I be, then?”
“ My darling little handmaids.” Seeing my expression she kissed my forehead. “No, not handmaids - my duchesses, my court, the heads of my entourage. Queens and stars always have entourages.”
“ Mills, what if we want to be stars too, what if we want to have entourages, not be them?”
“ Care Bear, you don’t have what it takes to live your life in the media glare. It would make you craaaazy, and Gawd, can you imagine Christy? I mean people like to look at her but what would she say if anyone asked her a question? Nope, it’s got to be me. You two can come along for the ride. You have
I should feel bad about it but I don’t. He left me. I would never have left him.
Milan and Christy left me too but, unlike Daddy, those girls, and especially Milan, will bask in the publicity. I bet dead I will be the best friend they ever had. I bet Milan will take off her bright pinks and blues and put on an outrageous black dress for a day or two and strike a grief pose. If she keeps her eyes hidden under shades, no one will notice that they are dry.
It’s not that she didn’t love me once, it’s just that she wrote me off a while ago. Good for her; you’d think she was a Kelleher the way she can cut her losses.
As for Daddy, I think he’ll grieve, never publicly, and maybe not too much since he has his new family. Also it looks like the Lions are going to make the play-offs this year. But maybe, when he’s alone, he’ll think about me, and remember me, remember that I used to know how to make him proud, make him laugh.
I don’t know when that stopped exactly. Obviously, if I knew anything, I wouldn’t be here.
I would like to see Milan right now, her more than anyone else. She has a way with words, that fabulous blond. She would look at me lying here and say something funny, like she did when the three of us were getting settled on our flight that day to Aspen.
We were just three girls, but even in First Class we took up a lot of air space. I had Petal in her totally adorable Vuitton doggy clutch, which she hated, so she was barking frantically. Milan had brought along two huge pillows and three carry-ons. Only Christy, quiet and beautiful, with her small bag which fit neatly into the overhead compartment, wasn’t giving anyone a headache.
Christy was always like that, like a girl in a fairytale, or maybe Alice in Wonderland. Things happened around her but not to her. She has always appeared contented to follow along in Milan’s turbulent wake, being admired but never judged. I can see now, too late, how smart her choices were.
Milan had, as usual, attracted the attention of everyone in the plane. The poor passengers that had to get by her kept tripping over her ten mile legs which were hanging in the aisle because she said she was only comfortable sitting sideways in her seat. I was suffocating underneath her pillows since she had propped them between us and was leaning back on me. Lucky Christy was across the aisle. At take-off Milan said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “I hate flying commercial and ahhbviously Petal does too. That’s why she won’t shut up.”
I giggled into the pillows, thinking that since she and Petal had only flown non-commercially once before, this was a pretty sudden onset dislike.
She twisted her head around and winked at me. “I know what you’re thinking, Care Bear, but if a girl doesn’t set high standards for herself, how will she ever become Queen of the Universe?”
“ Queen of the Universe, Mills? Is that who you’re going to be when we grow up? What will Christy and I be, then?”
“ My darling little handmaids.” Seeing my expression she kissed my forehead. “No, not handmaids - my duchesses, my court, the heads of my entourage. Queens and stars always have entourages.”
“ Mills, what if we want to be stars too, what if we want to have entourages, not be them?”
“ Care Bear, you don’t have what it takes to live your life in the media glare. It would make you craaaazy, and Gawd, can you imagine Christy? I mean people like to look at her but what would she say if anyone asked her a question? Nope, it’s got to be me. You two can come along for the ride. You have
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