They fought constantly when they were younger.
Over toys.
Over television.
Over bathroom time.
Over who had eaten the last cookie.
But whenever someone outside the family hurt one of them, the other became fiercely protective.
I remember when they were eleven.
A boy at school made fun of Aaron for being quiet.
Mary confronted him.
“Don’t talk to my brother like that.”
The boy laughed.
“You’re not his mother.”
Mary shrugged.
“No.”
Then she smiled.
“I’m worse.”
Aaron had laughed about it for years.
That was Mary.
She could be stubborn, dramatic, loud, and impossible.
But she loved deeply.
Especially her brother.
Chapter Two: The Dress
Mary bought the red dress during her final healthy summer.
She had gone shopping with me.
We had originally planned to find something simple for a family wedding.
She tried on several dresses.
Blue.
White.
Black.
Green.
Then she came out of the fitting room wearing red.
She stood in front of the mirror.
“Well?”
I smiled.
“That one.”
“You like it?”
“I love it.”
She turned sideways.
“I look ridiculous.”
“You absolutely do not.”
She looked at herself again.
Then she smiled.
“I think I want this one.”
So we bought it.
