* * *
Sabrina: Or until they were forty-something.
* * *
Elizabeth: Right? It’s so strange that they didn’t get pregnant until so late in life and then had triplets with no fertility drugs. Makes you think we would have had a lot more sisters and brothers running around if they’d been getting it on all along.
* * *
Sabrina: Ew. Why are we talking about our parents having sex? How did we get to this dark and repulsive place?
* * *
Elizabeth: We got here because you were being weird. Don’t worry about kissing Andrew. I don’t care.
* * *
Sabrina: Well, I DO. And surely, he’ll notice that you and I don’t kiss the same way.
* * *
Elizabeth: Maybe we do!
* * *
Sabrina: We don’t do anything else the same. Not even tie our shoes.
* * *
Elizabeth: That’s because you tie them weird. If you’d been patient and let Minnesota teach you the proper way, we’d be on the same page with shoe tying and a lot of other things. She was a fabulous knitter, and everyone should know how to knit socks. It’s a basic life skill.
* * *
Sabrina: I can buy socks.
* * *
Elizabeth: You say that now. But when nuclear winter comes, you’ll wish you knew how to follow a basic sock pattern.
* * *
Sabrina: Lizzy, please!
* * *
Elizabeth: Fine, but stop worrying about the kissing stuff. I don’t have feelings for Andrew, and I don’t care who he kisses. I’ve always assumed he’ll have other relationships after we’re married, anyway.
* * *
Sabrina: I wouldn’t be so sure about that. His dad cheated on his mom, and Andrew loathes him for it. I could be wrong, but I think he intends to be faithful to you, Lizzy.
* * *
Elizabeth: *surprised emoji* *thinking emoji*
* * *
Sabrina: See! Now you’re mad. Now you want to cut off my traitorous lips and sew them onto one of your fancy lace collars.
* * *
Elizabeth: *eye-rolling emoji* That’s gross. And no, I’m not mad. Just surprised. That’s not what I expected from him.
* * *
Sabrina: He’s not what I expected, either. He’s very nice, but also… Well, I wasn’t going to tell you, but his table manners are atrocious. Seriously vile. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’d been raised by swine. Very nice swine, who instilled compassion in his heart, but didn’t bother schooling him on what to do with a knife and fork.
* * *
Elizabeth: Really? That’s odd.
* * *
Sabrina: It is. But seriously, food gets everywhere. Plan on wearing full body armor out to dinner with the man.
* * *
Elizabeth: Interesting….
* * *
Sabrina: DISGUSTING is the word you’re looking for. I know we like to look on the bright side, but there is no bright side here. He’s repulsive. But he doesn’t eat in front of his family, so maybe they don’t know? I have no idea, but he also sort of fell asleep in the middle of our kiss the other night—or passed out or something—and woke up yelling totally random stuff.
* * *
Elizabeth: Like what?
* * *
Sabrina: Like “gallbladder” and some other things I can’t remember. Just completely bizarre things. He said his doctors know about it, and it isn’t a big deal, but I did some searching and I think he has narcolepsy. Maybe with a touch of Tourette’s? That’s the disorder that makes you shout things, right?
* * *
Elizabeth: *crying laughing emoji*
* * *
Sabrina: Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny, Lizzy. I promise it isn’t, and I’ve only been here for four days. You’ve got a lifetime of Spray Food and Gallbladder Shouting ahead of you. If I were in your place, I couldn’t go through with it, no matter how pretty he is when he’s not tossing food at his face.
* * *
Elizabeth: I’m sure that’s exactly what the prince is counting on.
* * *
Sabrina: What? You don’t think…
* * *
Elizabeth: Oh, I absolutely do. I think Andrew wants out, but he doesn’t want to be the bad guy.
* * *
Sabrina: He did offer you a fifty-thousand dollar “Sorry it Didn’t Work Out” gift if you decide you’d rather not get married.
* * *
Elizabeth: Ha! See! He’s playing you, sis.
* * *
Sabrina: Holy…. He is, isn’t he?
* * *
Elizabeth. Oh yeah. Hard.
* * *
Sabrina: Shit! I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. He’s TOTALLY playing me! I’m such an idiot!
* * *
Elizabeth: You’re not an idiot.
* * *
Sabrina: No. I am. I let myself be distracted by how sweet he seems, but he isn’t sweet at all. He’s a diabolical secret agent using his conversational skills and smoldering eyes to throw me off the scent. But the scent stinks, and I should have smelled it the second he spit oatmeal on my dress!
* * *
Elizabeth: On MY dress, you mean. It wasn’t the white sheath, was it? I worked so hard to get the pockets in the perfect place on that one.