The pair looks strikingly similar. Like sisters, although not twins. Dark, short hair, blue eyes, nice smiles, casual t-shirts, and jeans. Neither speaks right away, each seems to be waiting for me to begin. The one on the right has an eagerness to her, slightly leaning forward, expectant. The other, on the left, is comfortably seated with her back against the chair, posture perfect, tranquil.

I’m not sure who to address first since I’d asked them both to come. When life puts you in between things with no clear direction, I thought it best to get second opinions—from both sides. Then the one on the right, Ms. Expectant, clears her throat slightly, to which Ms. Tranquil acknowledges the break in silence, shifting her torso to the side and then back again to her peaceful neutrality.

“I’ve asked you both here because… I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.”

“Is that all?” Expectant says, her smile becoming broader. “We thought there was a real problem!” She glances at Tranquil. “But we do see that you’re upset. What’s wrong?”

Tranquil doesn’t acknowledge Expectant’s remark but only fixes a slow, penetrating stare on me. I shift in my chair, its back covered with laundry I hadn’t folded. It feels comforting.

“Is there ever going to be a time when I can make a decision without going nuts?” I ask, not knowing what else to say.

“Oh, what do you mean, sweetheart?” Expectant takes my hand in hers and caresses it.

“I’m just so confused all the time. I can’t get out of bed without wondering which thing to do first… my nerves are shot.”

Expectant rises from her chair. “You poor baby! Let’s have a hug.” She pulls me up and throws her arms around me, almost too tight, but I feel a certain power in that hug. I am convinced that she knows what to do and will be more than happy to tell me.

Tranquil’s eyes follow us as we embrace, and surveys our joined bodies from head to toe. After a moment, she returns to her neutral position.

“Ah! Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha!” Expectant cackles as she pulls me even closer, about to crush my bones. “It is soooo good to connect once again. How long has it been? Years? Decades? Ha! Ha! I’ve missed our little tête-à-têtes, our heart-to-hearts, our one-on-ones, our…”

“Conversations?” Tranquil interjects, turning away to not look anywhere in particular.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” I struggle to free myself from Expectant’s grasp. Gee she’s handsy, I think as I wonder why Tranquil didn’t get up and help. Does tranquility really need to be so hands-off?

Expectant pushes me back by the shoulders, her stare piercing my eyes. “Let’s have some tea! That’ll calm your nerves!”

“Oh, okay, great. That’s good. Tea, yes, tea!” I’m glad for a reprieve.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it! It’s through here, right?” Expectant scurries toward the kitchen.

I turn to Tranquil who is now wearing a slight smile.

I whisper, “She’s driving me up the wall. I just want to hear what she has to say and get her out of here.” I glance toward the kitchen. “How do you stand it?”

“I don’t.”

I turn back to meet Tranquil’s eyes.

“But you’re together all the time. You have to, don’t you?”

“I don’t have to stand anything. So I don’t.”

“But that’s not living.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Then, what good are you?”

Tranquil pauses a moment, “I don’t know.”

“No, this is not how it’s supposed to go. You two are my ying and yang, my inner wisdom, my true self.”

Tranquil is unmoved.

“You know, you’ve always been the slacker. Where were you those years ago when I was doing most of the talking instead of her?”

“I was there.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“You two were prattling on and on, about nothing at all. I didn’t see any point.”

Keeping my eyes fixed on Tranquil, I slowly lower myself into the chair of laundry.

“You were supposed to help me. Like you’re supposed to help me now. That’s what you do. That’s what you are.”

“How can I do that and remain, as you would say, tranquil?”

I jump out of my chair. “So you can keep meeee tranquil!!!” I’m about to throttle her.

“Here’s the tee-ea!” Expectant bounces into the room with a full tray and sets it on the dining table.

I move to the table as Expectant pours the tea.

“She’s driving me up the wall,” I whisper. “She won’t say anything, she won’t help, she won’t budge.”

“I know, I know. We’re here for you but she never really understood that.” Expectant stirs her cup of tea. “You know, you’ve got nothing in that kitchen. I made do with standard orange pekoe and a few mini rice cakes but you really need to get to the store. Hey! I’ll bet that’s your problem! You just need to go to the grocery store!” Proud of herself, she begins to sip her tea and nibble on a rice cake.

My head starts to hurt. I look down at my shoes, well-worn, tinged with dirt, powder blue crocs. “I need to go to the grocery store.” I turn to Tranquil. “Do I need to go to the grocery store?”

“You could go to the grocery store, or you could not go to the grocery store, but I would definitely fold that laundry if it hasn’t already wrinkled.”

I bite my lip and simmer. “Grocery store and folding laundry. The meaning of life.” I turn to both of them and explode. “You! Are a pair of frauds!”

Expectant spits out her mini rice cake. “What are you talking about?”

Tranquil rises from her chair. “Let’s try to remain calm.”

“Frauds! You aren’t expectant! You have no expectations at all!”

“Correct! I’ve never had any expectations. I’m very Zen in that way. Everyone says so,” she nods agreeing with herself. “More Zen than her, that’s for sure!”

“There’s truth in what she says,” Tranquil admits, “ I still feel want and disappointment. For example, this wrinkled laundry…”

“To hell with the laundry!” I shout. “You’re not tranquil. You’re snooty and judgmental. Neither of you are what you say you are.”

“No,” Tranquil corrects, “We aren’t what you say we are.”

“We never were really,” Expectant adds.

“But you helped me! I remember that you helped me!”

Tranquil and Expectant glance at each other and reply, “IN HIGH SCHOOL!”

“But you’re not in high school now, are you?” Expectant offers me a mini rice cake.

I stand before them frozen in a kind of time warp. Am I my younger self or the troubled me of today? I’m profoundly embarrassed by the realization that they’re right. How could it have taken me this long to see it? With the mini rice cake somehow in my hand, I make my way to the easy chair full of unfolded laundry and nestle in not sure of what to say or do other than to nibble.

Tranquil approaches. “We’re particularly good at the overbearing mother and distant father routine. It worked rather well in your teen years, as I recall. It made you feel comfortable. But that’s about all we do. That’s our repertoire. And now, it appears that you need something different.”

I look up at Tranquil.

“Are you okay, honey?” Expectant asks as she moves toward me.

I look over at Expectant, and then at the two of them.

“Get out! I want you both gone.”

Expectant glances at Tranquil. “Okay, we’ll leave the way we came in.”

“No. I want to know you’re really gone.” I pause to think. “I want you to take the bus.”

“The bus?” they reply together.

I spring out of the chair and grab my satchel that hangs by the front door. “Yes, the bus. There’s a stop just outside.” I dig into the bag. “Here’s the fare.” I give them each a handful of various coins.

“But I don’t know what to do with…”

“Shhh,” Tranquil pacifies Expectant. “Just take it. Let’s go.”

I pull the door open wide and watch the pair cross the threshold. I close the door firmly behind them and turn the deadbolt. I watch from the window as their figures recede, their chat turns into mumble, and their footsteps fade away.

There was a newfangled stillness in the room. Same laundry, same chair, same mini rice cake, amidst a stillness that was completely fresh and new. It scared her but with a kind of fear she hadn’t felt before.

“Hello? Are you there?” She wasn’t quite sure who she was calling out to but she was both relieved and worried that there was no response. She moved to the center of the room and tried again.

“Hello? Helloooo!” She shouted to make sure she was heard by anyone or anything that might be listening.

Again, not one sound in response. She glanced about the room and then moved to the chair full of laundry. She gathered it up in her arms and, piece by piece, threw it around the room before collapsing into the chair. Her favorite chair.

She had a feeling that the bus had come and gone even though she no longer needed to see or hear it.

She had a feeling that she’d stand up soon to gather her clothes, to fold them, and to pull out the iron and ironing board if necessary.

She had a feeling that her life would go on, perhaps as it had but perhaps not.

She had a feeling that this new kind of fear would be with her always.

She had a feeling that she and this new kind of fear might someday sit down to tea and mini rice cakes.

She had a knowing that she could learn to think differently.

– Julie Parent