Same Old Song

Sensitive theme: Incest

   Joanne was too busy dying for Monica to bother her with this. She had already picked out her casket, the music for the funeral service, and the church where she wanted it to take place. And the pallbearers too. Monica couldn't believe it. Joanne had picked her own pallbearers. She wrote down several names on pieces of paper, put them in a hat, and pulled out six. 

    Monica couldn't talk to Samantha about it either. Samantha was too busy planning her wedding. She had a church picked out too, the music, but instead of a casket or pallbearers, she chose a cake. 

    Sunday, at dinner, Samantha announced her wedding dress would be "this fabulous cream color." 

    "Isn't that amazing, " Joanne said. "So will my burial dress." 

     Samantha excused herself from the table, immediately followed by Joe, her fiancé, who at the time had his mouth full of macaroni. Samantha knew better, though. Ever since the three of them were children, no matter what they did, Joanne would always top it. Now Joanne is dying. Who could top that? 

    Monica could talk to her mother about it she supposed. But she could already see her mother shaking her head. Her mother would listen, of course, or pretend to listen. But she never believed anything anybody told her unless she wanted to. Like the time Uncle Roman died in a car accident and the police called. She told them they must be mistaken, hung up the phone, and went back to folding the laundry. No one knew until the police came by the house the next day that their uncle was dead. 

     And why would her mother believe her? She had no proof, except the dreams in her head. Not really dreams but more like flashbacks. Her father coming to her room, smelling like Old Spice and humming the tune to Monica's favorite song. Afterwards, stroking her hair, and saying, "Remember, don't tell anyone, especially your mother. She won't love you anymore." Sometimes, though, if Monica cried enough, he would stop and go to Joanne's or Samantha's room. That's why Joanne became promiscuous and got AIDS. Samantha became a virgin again, joining some club that says it's okay to wait until marriage to have sex. 

     Monica, on the other hand, had a pretty normal love life. Two serious boyfriends before marriage. A couple of one-night stands. The sex was never good, though. Even with her husband, Frank. They were lukewarm lovers at best. She felt really embarrassed when watching dirty movies with her husband. The actors seem to have just invented sex. "It's all right, Frank says. " I know you've been through a lot." He is so sweet and adorable that every morning when Monica wakes up, she is surprised and disturbed that he has not left her during the night. 

    Frank had wanted to kill her father when Monica first told him. He said that he could never imagine doing anything like that to their daughter, Ashley. Monica could though. She imagines Frank having sex with Ashley all the time. 

    "You must confront him," Monica's therapist says after only two sessions. 

     "Who, Frank," Monica says. 

     "No, your father." Monica's therapist is young and pretty, though she wears no makeup. Monica thinks she is a lesbian. "You must confront all of them. Your sisters and your mother as well.” 

     "My mother." 

     "Don't you think she deserves to know?" Monica does not answer. She has no idea what her mother deserves. 

     "Is it possible I imagined this," Monica asks. Monica is sure the therapist thinks she is stupid. 

     The therapist takes off her glasses and sucks in her lower lip. This is a habit that greatly annoys Monica. “It is possible. Do you think you imagined it?" 

     "I don't know,” Monica answers softly, forcing herself not to scream. “That is the reason I am here." 

     The therapist puts her glasses back on and writes vigorously on her notepad. 

     "Joanne went to the hospital." Monica's mother calls her at work. "It's pneumonia.” 

     "Again," Monica almost says but catches herself in time. 

     When Monica gets to the hospital, Joanne is pale and looks very close to death. She is hooked up to a respirator. But Monica has seen her like this several times before. She is hardly concerned. 

     "No hope," the doctor says. He is standing across from Monica's parents with Joanne laying in the bed between them. He is a short man and looks as if he is in desperate need of sleep. "I'll be surprised if she makes it through the night." Her mother is staring at the doctor as if he is a piece of artwork she does not like. Monica's mother kisses Joanne on the forehead and says, "It's okay. We'll be back tomorrow. Come on, Nathan." Her mother is right. Joanne survives the night. 

    Monica meets Samantha at her favorite restaurant to help her plan her reception. She has yet to visit Joanne in the hospital. They talk about food and decorations, anything other than Joanne. And they avoid looking into each other's eyes. They have grown numb to Joanne's sickness, her suffering. And they are both ashamed. 

    Samantha's indifference toward their sick sister does not sit well with Monica, though. Monica is very much aware of the rivalry between them; she was there at its birth. When each girl turned twelve, their father stopped coming to their rooms. That's when the fighting began between them. Nothing physical, just teasing and bickering at first. Then boys came into the picture. Joanne slept with all of Samantha's platonic boyfriends. She slept with Monica's boyfriends as well. But Monica didn’t care. She was tired. Tired of what? She was not sure. All she knew was  simply being an observer of life was better than being its victim. 

    "Samantha, do you remember when we were children?" Monica asked, surprising herself. 

    Samantha says nothing, but her body stiffens. 

    "Do you remember when Daddy used to come to our room?"  

     "How can you do this now? Why? I've spent years trying to forget," she says too loudly. People begin to stare. She stands up and walks away quickly. 

     Strangely enough, Monica is satisfied with this reaction. Finally, she has confirmation. Monica tells her therapist. She seems displeased. 

    “You call this confirmation," the therapist says, after removing her glasses and sucking in her lower lip. 

     "Why else would she react like that?" Monica says. 

     "Well, now that you are sure you were abused, you must confront your father." 

     Now it's Monica's turn to be displeased. She thought her therapist would have congratulated her. Instead, she feels like she was just sentenced to prison for a crime she did not commit. 

    Joanne recovers from her bout with pneumonia and returns to her parents' house. Both Samantha and Monica are there when she arrives. Their conversation is normal, with no hint to what had been talked about at their last meeting. Monica smiled. She and Samantha were wonderful actors or wonderful cowards. 

    Several weeks later, Monica’s mother calls her at work again. “Monica comes over as soon as you can. I need to talk to you about something. It’s important”. Could Samantha have said something to her? Monica leaves work early and rushes to her parents’ house. 

     Her mother brings out several new outfits. "These are for your sister’s wedding. Help me pick out one that doesn’t make me look fat.” 

    The night before Samantha’s wedding Joanne takes ill again. Monica goes to the hospital but decides not to go into Joanne’s room She calls Samantha and listen to her bitch about Joe’s bachelor party. 

    Joanne is dead. Three hours before the wedding, she decides to die. 

   “I knew she would do that to me, “Samantha screams. 

    Their mother is crying uncontrollably in her bedroom. Their father comes out. He is dry -eyed and somber- looking. He looks at Samantha. “Your mother thinks you should postpone the wedding.” 

    Samantha runs out of the room. Monica’s father looks at her. “I was thinking we could have the wedding and no reception. But your mom says people will talk. You know how she is. What do you think, Monica? You always had the most sense.” 

   Monica does not answer him, but cries instead. Her father puts his arms around her, stroking her hair and humming some old song. Monica pushes him away violently and struggles helplessly not to remember the words.