Perfect Polly Returns

"Honestly, Fran, sometimes I wonder how your brain works."

My sister Polly was sitting across from me at my kitchen table being, well, Perfect Polly.  She had showed up, unannounced, without her husband and children because she felt like seeing my new place.

"Did Mama send you here to check up on me?"

Polly studied her wonderfully manicured nails and avoided eye contact.  "I won't say that, although Mama is concerned about you."

"Why?"

Polly laughed slightly.  "Well, you have a mortgage and a rent payment?"

"Had.  My house sold."

"And you moved to the city.  Why would you want to be a single woman in the city?"

Did I really need to get into it?  Did I need to tell her every intimate detail of my life?

"I just need a change."

"Oh, Fran, why can't you be satisfied with what you have?"

I stood and felt like throwing Polly out of my house, but I couldn't because she's family.  I clenched my teeth and made fists.  She seemed unaffected.

"Because, Polly, I want more for myself than waiting for a rich man to marry me."

"Hum, well."  Polly shifted in her seat.  "Seems someone has grown a backbone."