A Generation Apart

The front door slammed.

"I've told you before, don't slam--"

"Sorry," said Ruth, "it's windy out. If all the windows weren't open..."

I turned to her, brushing my gray-streaked hair out of my eyes.

"You're not in your fancy air-conditioned college--"

"Don't I know it," she said, tossing her coat on the kitchen table and opening the fridge door.

"Don't eat too much," I said automatically, "you'll spoil your dinner."

Ruth took a soda can from the fridge and stood up. Light shone on dark, dark hair. Her eyes were as dark.

"Yeah, well," she said, "I think I'm going out with friends. Jenna--"

I let out an exasperated sound. I just couldn't help it.

"It would've been nice to let me know earlier. Who is this Jenna anyway? And where will you be going?"

Ruth slammed the fridge door.

"I didn't know earlier. Anyway, Jenna's at school with me. You'd know if you ever listened."

"Don't talk to me like that, young lady."

"Then don't treat me like a child," she retorted. "I've grown up. You need to learn to deal with it."

I nodded. "I can see you're all grown up. In fact--" I eyed the neckline of her top, "--the whole world can see how grown up you are."

It was Ruth's turn to make an exasperated sound. "Oh Mom, like the world doesn't already know women have breasts."

"If they didn't, they do now."

"I've seen photos of you when you were young," Ruth said. She glanced down where the tops of her breasts were showing. "This is nothing compared to some dresses you wore. When did you get so old?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but her phone rang.

"That sounds like a dirge," I said.

"Then I'll play it at your funeral." Ruth answered the phone. "Oh hi Jenna. Just a sec..." She walked out of the kitchen.

When did I get so old? Ha! When did I become my mother? She and I used to argue like this. And probably she with her mother. Back all the way to Eve?

Ruth and I are too much alike. We are sisters a generation apart. There's so little of her father in her, and he's dead a long time.

It's been so lonely, lonelier still since she left for college.

"I gotta go. I'm meeting Jenna," Ruth said as I heard her heading for the door.

"Don't slam--," I began.

The front door slammed.