A Sister's Heart is Larger than a Cool, Vintage Chair

She made up her mind to be brave. She told herself to forget the chair. With forced optimism she told herself there would be other chairs. Her spiritual side comforted her by reminding her that she couldn’t take the chair to Heaven. Still, there was a hollow feeling in her buttocks as she sat on couches, love seats, cushions, all poor substitutes for the beautiful vintage chair she saw at the old woman’s yard sale. It was only ten dollars and in near perfect condition. It’s cool, chrome frame caught the fire of the August sun, and white leather cushions beckoned even the most avid stander.
“How much?” She asked the wrinkled host of the yard sale, who sat on the front porch with a watchful eye. Pursing her lips, thinned from age the woman squinted and spoke. “Ten dollars.” It couldn’t be! Such a priceless gem of 70s furniture for a mere ten dollars? Why, that was less than an hour of work for the young girl named Suzy. As she reached into her purse to pull out her billfold, her sister Nichole nudged her arm.
“Suze, we just came to look. We have to rush as Mom needs our help moving. We simply don’t have time to make such a large purchase. Even if we did, we need the space in the car to move Mother’s belongings to and fro. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to leave the chair behind.”
“I understand,” Suzy said with a nod and a disappointed kick in the lawn with the toe of her Chuck Taylor sneaker.
“Don’t worry,” Her other sister Charise smiled. “There will be other chairs.”
“Of course!” Suzy smiled, though she knew there would never be another chair like this. Not ever. The day passed to the grunt of helpers moving boxes. Even as Suzy, along with the others, dove into working the impossible task at hand, her thoughts continued to drift towards the beautiful chair. She was sure some other lucky passerby had snatched the chair, possibly negotiating a price of eight dollars. Possibly even seven. Angrily shoving her mother’s belongings into a cardboard box marked “Memorabilia” she cursed the new owner of the chair. “Whoever they are won’t appreciate it or love it as I would have. I’m sure whoever purchased it weighed 400 pounds and would bend it’s beautiful frame with the first sitting!” Suzy thought. A perfect image of the culprit formed in her mind. A man, about 47 years old with a sagging belly and legs the size of the pillars supporting the White House. Of course, when you weigh 400 pounds, you can’t walk so Larry (as she had decided the chair thief would be named) drove a rascal. A shiny, gray rascal purchased with tax payers money. He’d pay for it with 7 one dollar bills, damp from being in the perspiration soaked pocket of his Lee jeans. She shuddered. Larry, of course would have six smelly children who would sit their filthy little bodies all over the white cushions, tainting it’s purity forever. Larry’s wife, Hortense would cut the back open and hide her meager allowance there, waiting for the day when she would have enough to leave him forever. Hortense was going to be a country western singing sensation…if only she could leave Larry and her grimy mass of children behind.
Suzy was violently shaken from her sick day dream with the realization that the sun had long gone down, and the chore of moving her Mother to her new home was at last finished.
Charise and Nichole dropped Suzy off at the apartment and went to fetch some late night munchies. When they returned, Nichole had a large smile on her face and Charise was nowhere to be seen.
“Just look out the door!” Nichole instructed. There, hobbling up the steps with slow precision was Charise…carrying the beautiful chair. It had not been sold to Larry after all! Charise and Nichole explained that it was sitting on the curb with a cardboard sign that read “Free.” The priceless item was too large to fit in Nichole’s chair, so Charise had carried it all the way back to the apartment. No small feat, as it was quite a distance to be walking in the dark, and the chair was quite heavy.
Suzy learned a valuable lesson about chairs, moving and sisterhood. Only she was too exhausted to register it in her memory and it slipped away from her. One thing is certain-whenever she sits upon her precious chair, she will always remember how much her sisters loved her.