OliViA

Genesis

When Lauren turned from the window, she saw Olivia's bed empty. "Peanut?" she called. She scanned the bedroom in search of only Olivia, her eyes skipping over the cubbies crowded with classic children's literature, piles of Beanie Babies, the easel in the corner with its large pad on which Olivia had meticulously drawn characters from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. The drawings were remarkably good for a child, even for an adult. Lauren had seen the potential and had signed her up for the most prestigious art classes.

Lauren zeroed in under the canopied brass bed across the room. "Gotcha!" she said, yanking up the bed skirt. It was a game they'd sometimes play in which she always found Olivia lying on her stomach, her head propped up on her elbows and smiling ear to ear. Lauren was a little unnerved when this was not the case.

She scrutinized the room again. "Livvie?" Lauren walked over to the closet and threw open the doors. No Olivia. No Olivia behind the dresser or in the toy boxes.

Lauren immediately took off to Jennifer's bedroom across the hall and knocked on her door, ignoring the taped sheet of notebook paper with skulls and crossbones and the words in big scrawled letters:                                                                                            DO NOT DISTURB. EVER!!!!

"Honey, it's me," Lauren said at the door.

Jennifer, dressed in her school uniform, painstakingly brushed her hair at the mirror. Under her breath, she counted the strokes, "Ninety-three, ninety-four," until she reached one hundred.

Another knock. Harder this time. "Honey?"

Reluctantly, Jennifer put down the brush and answered. "What is it, Mom?" She'd reached that age where she was perpetually annoyed.

Looking over Jennifer's head to see if Olivia might be in the room, Lauren asked, "Is your sister in there?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "God, no. And if she had half a brain she'd know better than to ever step foot in my room." Jennifer sounded more irritable than usual, prompting Lauren to pry.

"What's she done this time?"

"She took my brand new lipgloss and drew with it."

Lauren kissed the top of Jennifer's head. "I'll get you a new one. See you downstairs in ten." Lauren hurried down the hall, still on her hunt. She heard Jennifer slam the door.

     Lately, Jennifer sometimes hated her sister. This new hatred unsettled her because up until a few months ago the sisters had been very close. They had performed scenes from Shakespeare. Olivia had played Romeo to Jennifer's Juliet; each had recited by heart Hamlet's "To Be or Not To Be" soliloquy; they had taken turns playing the witches and sword fighting as Macbeth and Duncan. In Mark's comfortable Range Rover on trips to their grandparents, they had belted out the lyrics to "A Whole New World" from the car's backseat. Olivia had even crawled into bed with Jennifer when she couldn't sleep. Jennifer had read Charlotte's Web until little Olivia's eyes grew heavy with sleep. "I love you, Jenny," Olivia had whispered through her yawns. Jennifer had always replied, "I love you more."

These days Jennifer yelled at Olivia about anything. A misplaced toothbrush, a sneeze, Jonathan Taylor Thomas not answering her fan letter. It didn't matter; she didn't need a reason. "I hate you!" Jennifer often hollered, slamming her bedroom door in her little sister's face. Gone were the days of make-believe, Shakespeare and Charlotte's Web. Jennifer had now gone past locking Olivia out of her room. She was locking her out of her life. Lauren blamed puberty. Jennifer, on the other hand, blamed something else.