Bed & Breakfast Next to the Pink Roses Hotel

IF PAT HADN'T LOST HER AUNT SO RECENTLY, SHE WOULD HAVE been glowing.

"I just approached him," she told Kathy for the third time, "showed him the letter and asked: Did you send this to me? And then I felt so awkward! I'd thought I was self-confident enough to do that. At first, I could only focus on the need I had of knowing right away whether it had been him or not. And when I actually asked, I realized how much his answer was going to affect me! But he just answered straight away. Yes, he said with that grave voice of his… And it was bliss.

You must think I'm being so silly…"

"No!" answered her friend, unable to remove the amused smile from her face. "I don't! I'm so happy for you!"

She really was. And she felt proud to have contributed in some measure.

Besides, her smiling face was also due to the two entertaining days she'd spent with her father and Jesse. They'd explored the island, visiting its most beautiful spots and appealing places. She once again felt the soothing effect of tourism she had originally come craving, which gave her a broader perspective of things. Thanks to this busy relaxation, she didn't let the fact that her mother hadn't come - because she was attending to her pregnant sister's whims - sting. Of course she knew it was childish to feel that way. But whenever she tried to analyze the situation objectively, she always came to the conclusion that she did have some cause for bitterness - some, at least.

She had been reading a book lately where it was claimed that the bigger the expectations, the bigger the potential disappointment. It was referring to couples, but it could very well apply to sisterhood. She had probably made that mistake, Kathy acknowledged. She'd spent a happy childhood, as well as part of her teenage years, relying mostly on Mary and Doris, not merely as sisters but as best friends. The feeling must have not been mutual - or at least not as intense for them - so that when they reached their late teens and early twenties there was a gradual and in time profound detachment.

Her sisters began to be too busy with boyfriends, with marriage… to hang out with her anymore. Or to hang out with one another, for that matter. She found some comfort in the fact that it had been a three-branch separation and not them two from her; but still, she had been really hurt when things had changed. And now she sort of felt that Mary was dragging their mother into that devastating spiral of alteration.