“Have you passed the sports complex yet?”
“Yeah, just now.”
“Okay, have you seen a sign for Target?
“We just passed it! How did you know?”
“Hey girlie, I know I-95 better than I should.”
“Do I have to be in the very far left lane?”
“Yeah, follow signs to 676 east into Center City and get off at the ‘Museum Area’.”
“Whoa, that was quite a curve. Oh, I see it!”
“Pull behind the building to unload, I’ll meet you down there.”
I hung up the phone, pulled on my coat and hopped the elevator downstairs. I ran out the back door of my building and there it was, the big white van I had last seen in front of my parents’ house in Oregon back in December. Out climbed my sister, who I also hadn’t seen since December. Her hair was pink, she was tired, dirty and just a little stinky, and she was still the very best thing I had seen all year. We hugged while crowing “yay,” pulled back and hugged some more. We pulled Amber and Lauren, her friends and “fan-agers” in the hug, until a passerby gave us a perplexed look.
It took two luggage carts to haul their gear up to the apartment, and instantly my entire living room was covered with clothes, instruments, computers, booking notecards, food boxes and other stuff. My sister wandered around the apartment, checking out all the things that had changed and the things that have stayed the same. She looked at me and said, “It still smells the same!”
We had dinner, went through old clothes and stayed up far too late talking. It is SO NICE to have her here (despite the fact that she just put an almond down my pants). I love my sister.