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Sunday, September 5, 2010

Vesta - the Shirley MacLaine factor

We're outside on a crowded terrace with Vesta and another friend, sipping our drinks, chatting the night away when Vesta looks over into the distance, and then announces, "oh there's my brother."

The other girl, Katie, immediately looks over to where Vesta is indicating and asks, "where?"

"Over there, at the other end of the street," Vesta replies and I look at Katie, who seems pretty interested, if not to say excited. 

"I haven't met him yet," she tells me. "But I've heard stories."

Vesta nods at this, as if this is nothing special and turns back to us. Some time later, her brother and his group of friends walk through the door and as we're pretty well-hidden - or immersed in the crowd, depending on your point of view - he doesn't notice us. Vesta punches him so hard on the arm, most guys would yelp and shouts out, "hey."

As they hug, I watch Katie's face, which is a mixture of shock, awe and horror. 

Vesta is one of those girls who don't follow any trends but still manage to scrub up really well. They don't have to look for individuality because they truly are. At the same time, she can fit into any environment with an ease most people simply never possess. Her brother on the other hand looks like he stepped out of a cage fight. 

Vesta shrugs when I tell her. She is also one of those girls you can tell anything to and she won't get mad. 

"You should see the other one," she merely states. 

"Her oldest brother," Katie says. "Apparently, when he walks down the street, people move out of the way."

Vesta shrugs again. 

"They really are nice guys," she simply states. Then she gets serious, "whatever you do, just don't get taken in, okay?"

I look at her blankly, while next to me, I can hear Katie mutter, "too late."

"They're natural-born charmers," Vesta explains. "Just don't fall for them." 

I'm still mulling over that statement when he comes over to us a while later. Vesta goes over to talk to him, stopping him midway, and I can see Katie's eyes resting on them the whole time. They do seem pretty close. From the way they interact, mirroring each other, glancing in the same direction at the same time, you can tell they share a special bond. Just as Vesta is about to turn so she can introduce us, he is already by our side, laughing in a friendly manner when we get his name wrong, correcting us in a nice way. We talk about mundane things for a while but when he leaves, I can sense the emptiness. And I can tell Katie  senses it as well from the way she keeps looking in the direction he left. 

"Wow," is all I can say.

Vesta laughs like she has seen this reaction before, which I'm sure she has. 

"You should have seen them in high school," she says. "Between those two, who even needs a dad. It's a miracle I even went out on dates." 

But she is laughing, so it couldn't have been that bad. 

"We used to beat the crap out of each other," she goes on. "Our older brother just let us fight. The other two never fought. Me and him, the one you just saw, we were at it all the time."

"He's gorgeous," I finally manage to say. 

To my surprise, she doesn't laugh or shake her head. 

"Well, it's hard to judge when you grew up with them," she says. "But they really don't look too bad. You know that thing Shirley MacLaine said?"

I shake my head. Next to me, Katie is doing the same. 

"Something about how just once she would like to do a love scene with her brother just to see what all the fuss is about. I mean, eww, but still, I can see where she's coming from. The other one looks exactly the same by the way."

"Twins?" I ask. 

She shakes her head. "Four years apart. Me and the one you just met, we're a year apart. We took the same classes in high school a few times. That was fun." 

"I can imagine," is all I can say. 

"It teaches you life skills," Vesta goes on. "So many girls who want to be friends with you, just so they can get closer to one of your brothers, you really learn to suss out who's in it for what pretty fast."

"You mean all that glitters isn't gold," I ask. 

She shakes her head. "No, I mean, you learn to be a good judge of character. It's a great lesson. Obviously I don't see the whole sexiness angle but they always had a big following of girls so there must be something about them. But yeah, you learn to judge people pretty well after that."

I wonder if this is what made her so easy-going today or if it is more to do with the fact of knowing that no matter what will happen, your brothers will always have your back.  


Miss Two said...

To comment on your comment: the girl in the tzit-tzit didn't say which mitzvah it was; just that it was a mitzvah. Then again, we WERE standing in a Chipotle line. It wasn't quite the environment for deep philosophical discussions... but it was cool that she claimed something so traditionally masculine fearlessly.

Thanks for visiting!

Comtesse de Villeneuve said...

Hah! So true about the Chipotle line. Then again, that would have made one pretty interesting discussion. Actually, I remember being full of questions when I saw women wear kippot. Some religious friends were freaked out by that, others said that these women saw it as equal rights.

Love your blog. Thanks for stopping by and sorry this took nearly a month. Been pretty busy lately and still getting the hang of how comments etc. work. Hope you check in here at least once in a while.