I keep my eyes open for Mary as I turn away from Doug and walk the rest of the way up the stairs and through the main doors of the Social Science building. I don't find her. I really wanted to talk to her before class. After this morning, I could use some cheering up and that's one thing I can always count on Mary to do, cheer me up. Besides that, I need to cancel our lunch. We have a standing lunch date Monday through Thursday. We would meet up on the roof of the old rec. building; she would bring the food, the drinks, and all the utensils, and I'd bring my appetite and a book. Mary and I were two of the very small number of students at the U who considered reading an enjoyable recreational activity rather than a form of forced torture. But today our plans, along with any other plans I have made that don't involve class or work, are canceled. I couldn't miss class ' well, I could but didn't want to ' and I certainly couldn't miss work ' not with the stack of bills my very complicated life laid on my shoulders ' but everything else has to be put on hold until I know that Momma is safe at the house by herself. It's alright though. I have grown pretty well used to putting my life on the back burner and leaving it to slowly simmer, evaporating into nothingness while I tend to things that are perceivably more important.

Standing outside my classroom door, trying to decide if I want to go in late or just skip it and head back home until it was time for work, I heard her voice.

'Ya' know, if I didn't know any better, I might think you actually liked the attention of Daddy's little princess out there.'�

'Well, I guess it's a good thing you know better.'�

'Uh huh,'� she laughs. 'S'o what? Is she going to come pay you a little visit at the library this afternoon? Ask for help with a book in the Anthropology section?'�

'Mary'�'�

'When'� I mean if she does, ask her to spell'Anthropology' and let me know how close she gets.'� With this she flashes a different smile, one that I found more annoying than anything else.

The Anthropology section of the library is the only thing on the third level of the building. It's in the far back corner, which no one ever visits for the purpose of learning about Anthropology. Mary, for one reason or another, finds endless mounds of joy in ripping me about other girls from the U; thus, proving to me, she has no romantic inclination toward me. There is no jealousy in her voice, nor is there any malice. She consistently fires one comment or another, whether degrading or simply sarcastic, in the most gleeful, little-sister tone imaginable. I do love her and care for her deeply, I consider her lack of romantic interest to be a blessing.

No, she doesn't have any feelings for me beyond the plutonic. Nor do I. And that's how I like it. Her role in my life is so crucial and important to me; I would never think of changing a thing about our relationship.

I play along and we both have a good snicker at Kristi's expense before I change the subject to our lunch date. I tell her that I'm not going to be able to make it. She puts up a fight, but eventually she concedes the point before asking me why I had to cancel. I tell her, as vaguely as I can, that I need to go home over lunch to check on my mother. 'She wasn't feeling well when I left her this morning, and I just want to make sure she's okay.'�

'Yeah, of course,'� she says with such sincerity and while showing a look of such concern that I am taken back with an impulse to embrace her and allow all the pain of the past five year to run out of my eyes as I share with her every agonizing detail of every devastating moment'an impulse that I quickly curb. She offers to come out to the house and bring some food for the three of us, which I find sweet but absurd. Of everyone I know, Mary knows the most about me and my life, but she still knows very little and nearly nothing at all about my mother and her condition. She met my mother before'� when we were younger, but they haven't seen each other since'� well, in five years or more. Feeling her discomfort, and knowing that she will continue fighting me on lunch until she wins somehow, I end the conversation by telling her that I am already late for class. She wraps her arms around my waist and lays her head on my chest.

Her hugs linger, first in time, as they last several seconds, but also in sensation. She holds me as though she sees all the pains and hidden sorrows I carry and she's trying to steal away all the hurt and misery that they cause; she lets me go and I feel her'for hours.

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