Just Remember to Breathe (Thompson Sisters)

Undoubtedly the twins would follow, though time would tell if Sarah’s sudden rebellion was a permanent fixture. If it was, the Thompson household was not going to be a happy place for the next couple of years.
    The day after Julia graduated from Harvard, she announced that she wasn’t going to graduate school, and had decided to go to work as manager for her boyfriend’s band, Morbid Obesity. True to form, she’d been quite successful in her chosen career. Between Crank’s guitar licks and over-the-top lyrics, and her business acumen, the band had become a phenomenon in the alt-rock scene. They weren’t particularly hurting financially, but I know for a fact that my parents absolutely hated the direction Julia had taken with her life. And I admired her, very much, for her independent spirit.
    Julia came in wearing what was, for her, formal dress: a pair of tight black jeans, heels and a sweater. Crank was… well, Crank. His jeans were faded and torn, his T-shirt looked like it was old before I was born, and his hair was spiked and multi-colored. Crank was a perfect example of why admiration and desire are two very different emotions. How my sister managed sex with her husband without injuring herself was a complete mystery.
    That said, I loved them both and was delighted to see them.
    As they came up the stairs, my sisters and I crowded around them, exchanging hugs.
    Julia, who is ten years older than me, smiled when she saw me, then engulfed me in a lingering hug. “Oh, Alex, it’s great to see you.”
    “You too, Julia. I’ve missed you so much!”
    Crank came over and gave me a hug, and I was careful to avoid puncturing myself. He turned to Sarah and said, “The Forsaken? Awesome. How you been, punk?”
    I was fascinated to see Sarah blush a bright red. “Oh, I’ve been great, Crank, you?”
    He shrugged. “Ehh, you know, just playing my guitar and hanging. Your big sister keeps me in line.”
    Sarah stumbled over her response as Julia looked on, amused. She was fourteen when the twins were born, so had missed much of their growing up. It was painfully obvious that Sarah had a huge crush on her husband.
    At that point my father came out of the office.
    “Julia, it’s delightful to see you,” he said, and hugged her. Then he turned, as always a little disconcerted, and held his hand out.
    “Crank,” he said, his tone reserved.
    “Hey, Dad,” Crank said, grinning, and engulfed my father in a huge bear hug. Carrie and I exchanged wide-eyed glances as Julia snickered a little.
    As they parted, my father’s eyes landed on Sarah. I waited for the explosion.
    “Sarah,” he said, “Please go upstairs and change before dinner.”
    Defiance immediately flared in her eyes. “But Crank isn’t wearing anything formal! I don’t want to wear a dress,” she said.
    “If Crank were wearing a dress, I might ask him to change. But what Crank does is immaterial, young lady: Crank is a professional, who supports himself, and can choose to dress as inappropriately as he chooses. You, on the other hand, are still a junior in high school. And I’m paying for your food and housing for at least the next few years. Therefore, if I tell you to go change, you will go change. I will say nothing more on the matter.”
    She threw a glare at my father, muttered, “ God!” then stomped upstairs, her combat boots shaking the entire house.
    “Well, then,” my father said, in the same oddly formal tone and language he always used. “Let’s move ourselves into the dining room, and perhaps Sarah might join us later.”
    He led the way into the dining room, with Julia and Crank behind them, and me and Jessica trailing. The dining room was set with my mother’s best china, which my father purchased for her during the two years we lived in Beijing, just before I started high school.
    My mother entered from the other direction. She’d set the table, brought the food in, then stepped out to “freshen up” as she liked to say. Now she hovered over us, providing unfortunate stage directions.
    Normally, my father would be at the head of the table and my mom at the foot. Crank and Julia would be closest to Dad, facing each other. Carrie and I would take the center two seats, and the twins would be relegated to the foot of the table with our mother.
    Unfortunately, it seemed that the war raging between the twins was throwing a twist in things. To minimize conflict, Sarah sat to my left next to Dad, and Carrie to my