My Life in Black & Blue

Chapter Three: Trouble Is

"I'm just saying I don't know how you put up with it," My sister Jessica said in the tone of voice I imagined she used on her diabetic patients when she caught them sneaking a chocolate, her "You-Should-Know-Better" tone, I called it.

"Put up with what?" I said distractedly, but I knew what it was. I had been talking to her on the phone when Dean barged into my room to beg me if I could help him find his favorite Hugo Boss shirt, which he wanted to wear on a date he had that night.

"Helping him get ready for his dates, Tess, really?"

"I'm his personal assistant, Jess. It's what I do."

"That's the other part I don't get. You have a degree on Visual Arts, how come you're not painting or sculpting or taking photographs? And instead you're trying to put together an outfit for Dean? Tess, you could be doing something, something important.

"Black Hawk's millions of fans think that what I do is important." I said sarcastically. "And I do a lot more than picking Dean's shirts for him." I said testily.

"Yeah, but are you doing something you love?" Jess insisted. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I couldn't think of what. I loved Dean and being around him, but it wasn't my dream job, much as he paid me. "Tessie, I'm not saying these things to hurt you," Jess added before the silence became too uncomfortable, "I just want you to be happy, to do all the wonderful things you're capable of."

"I know." I said softly. And really, this was why I called her. My brilliant older sister Jessica Mercer, M.D. was the mirror I couldn't avoid. It was her voice that kept me anchored to reality, her loving disapproval for the course of my life what kept me from growing too comfortable with a life I had never dreamed of. "I don't know what I would do if I didn't do this." I admitted.

"Oh, darling, you have so much to give! You're so talented! Everyone envies that painting you did for my office. You know the one."

I smiled, it was a technique I loved, I usually started with a photograph for reference and then instead of trying to copy the photo I would distort the lines by using broad brush strokes, giving it a semi-impressionist feel. The painting I had done for Jess was based on a photo she had sent me, of her first day of residency. I had given it to her when she moved to Baltimore to start her practice.

"I'm glad my work is so coveted," I said in a sly tone.

Jess laughed and then there was a lot of noise on her end. "Baby Sis, I have to go. But listen, I love Dean because you love him and he's the annoying little brother I never had, but you have to stand up for yourself and start doing things that make you REALLY happy. Understood?"

"Yes Ma'am." I said.

"Those are your doctor's orders." Jess said in a very stern voice and then hung up.

I smiled as I put my phone in my pocket.

"Did you find it?" Dean said, stepping into the closet with me, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans.

I held out the French Blue shirt and he took it and began to put it on. "How is Jess?" He asked as he did the buttons up.

"Good, she likes being back in Baltimore." I said. "Sends her love."

"Really?" Dean asked skeptically.

"She says you're the annoying little brother she never had."

"Well, Jess is the annoying big sister I never had. Remember how she used to 'take us to the movies' when we were in middle school? And we ended up sitting two roads behind her, while she sucked face with that guy your parents didn't want her to date?"

"Tristan?" I asked, surprised he remembered.

Tristan was the Patrick Verona of Jess' class, and my parents hadn't liked him one bit, though he was actually quite a sweet guy – he just wore a lot of leather and insisted on calling my parents Joseph and Patricia, instead of Mr. and Mrs. Mercer – and he always bought us super-sized popcorn at the movies.

"Yeah." He said, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling the sleeves up.

"You have to admit that sometimes watching them was more fun than watching the movie."

"There was a lot of heavy petting going on." He admitted. "It was quite illustrative actually." He grinned. "How do I look?"

"Like the handsome devil you are." I said and he leaned close to kiss the top of my head.

"Thanks, honey." He mumbled. "I'm going out with Leticia." He added as he stepped into his shoes. "We are going to the premiere of her movie. Don't wait up."

"I never do." I called after him.

-000-

Since I wasn't about to spend the night searching the Internet for pictures in which model-turned-actress Leticia Roberts looked fat – because I'm not as juvenile as that, plus I had done it when they had first started going out - I was left with little to do for the night.

The house was empty and I felt out of sorts. That was part of the reason why I never liked this house, it was so big but only two of us lived there. Dean didn't like having live-in staff, so instead a cleaning crew came twice a week to take of moping floors, cleaning bathrooms, doing laundry; there was also the gardening and landscaping crew and the pool cleaning service.

So, yeah, in the day there was often lots of people, but at night, it was like a mausoleum, especially when Dean wasn't around.

I thought on ordering pizza but in the end I went to the kitchen to try my hand with Nana's famous apple pie. I cut a huge slice as soon as it was done and scooped vanilla ice cream on top of it.

I was soothing my ouchies with sugar and I knew it but sometimes that was the only thing left to do.

I passed out on sugar and "What Not To Wear", trying to put Dean off my mind, which wasn't easy when I woke up to find him asleep on my bed and hogging my sheets.

…000…

End of Chapter Three