7
Savannah
December 25, 2006
“Get bundled up, girls,” my mom said. “I swear, this is the last time I’m going to say it.”
My sisters Eve and Elle clambered around, trying to find their jackets, hats, and gloves. Only the oldest, Steph, was ready, and that was only because she had her own five-year-old daughter, Charity, who refused to wear any gear for our annual trip.
“Dee, please,” my mom said, tossing me a scarf, “find your jacket.”
Only my mom called me Dee. She had since I was a baby. Even as I grew up as Lila. It didn’t matter that Steph was a Stephanie and Eve was an Evelyn and Elle was a Maryellen and I was a Delilah. We had nicknames and that was that.
“I already have it on.”
“The other one. You know it’s too cold for your cheer jacket.”
I grumbled and went for my thicker
