The Story of the Three Sisters

Prose, including snippets (mini-memoirs).
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goldenmyst
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The Story of the Three Sisters

Post by goldenmyst » August 12th, 2019, 6:41 pm

The Story of the Three Sisters

Three sisters try not to compete with each other but can’t help but try to get ahead in this capitalist economy. Yet, even with good jobs, there is something missing in their lives. Finally, the youngest sister lands her dreamboat at a convention for cosmetics. An up and coming executive in the makeup industry takes her out and proposes to her. He is charming and decent in every respect. The other two sisters are jealous. They predict divorce and unhappiness for the newlyweds. But to the envious sister’s chagrin, their sister is happily married until she has children. Her husband engages in a bitter dispute over the future of her newborns, two boys, and a girl. Her husband wants to adopt them out because he was raised poor and believes that growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth isn’t the road to success. But his will prevails in this as all things.

The two envious sisters gain a perverse satisfaction from their sister’s plight. Finally, the husband is on his death bed. If he doesn’t sign the papers his wife and three children will be left out of the will. The two aunts celebrate in private their younger sister’s predicament as though preparing for a party instead of a funeral.

Their two sons and one daughter are adults by now. Though they were raised in other households their real mother made sure they knew their kinship to their biological Dad. The daughter hatches a plan to revise their father’s will to their favor.

“My father’s eyesight is clouded by cataracts. So you will play husband to my wife. Since you were the best man at my brother’s wedding I trust you like my very own brother. Our fingers are bare so we won’t be cheating. We always had a rapport dare I say chemistry. Cupid cried bullseye when you took me on a date at eighteen. It is a wonder we never tied the knot but that can be remedied. I will be your Midsummer’s Eve fig-leafed by the cover we dare not blow of me being with your child. We will appeal to his compassion for his own grandchild. Oh, and his family is very physically affectionate. So in spite of our unwed status, our motto shall be, spare the tongue spoil the subterfuge, when we kiss.” The best man clears his throat.

The daughter and her acting husband dare to face her father. Her stand-in hubby says, “Father in law, though I have never met you in person your daughter has told me of your generosity and love of family. Surely you love her enough to leave a stepping stone to better things. Of course, we don’t want to be coddled for life. But please for our sake don’t donate your legacy to charity.”

The father says, “How audacious to confront a man on his death bed with such demands. Because of your brazen disregard for my medical condition I deny your petition. Go now and leave me to die in peace.”

The fill-in feigns his role as her husband. “Hear my words father in law. I know your heart isn’t made of stone. Relent from your course. Although you won’t live to see it you care that your grandchild will be cast into a cauldron of witches brew.”

He sits up in his bed. “How dare you argue with a dying man? Have you no shame. You could have made your request when my health was good. You are stricken from my will. Such impertinence leaves me no choice.”

Her borrowed spouse implores, “Though we are not blood kin I have long felt you are my father. But not for my sake but for your daughters and the child she carries hear our plea.”

His daughter interjects, “Please believe that I am the same daughter who was adopted but whose love for you is unabated by time.” The daughter slinks up her deputized better half like an otter with her left arm circled around his neck. He flinches as the fingers of her right-hand rest on his belt buckle. The daughter plants a wet sticky kiss on her his lips. He pulls his head back but she grasps him firmly by his hair and holds him until the ploy is finished. The daughter says, “Just as the flames of my passion for my husband have not died, neither has my daughterly love for you waned.”

The father says, “Give this old man his last kiss and I’ll think about it.”

The daughter whispers inaudibly for her father’s loss of hearing. “My man, step aside and let me handle this one.”

The daughter leans across her father, presses her breasts to his chest, and lays her lips upon his with the passion of a lover seeing her man off to war. She combs his thinning hair with her fingers.

Finally, she stands at a distance from her dying father. She says, “Time to tell the truth.” Her partner in ploy says, “Don’t be damned by a spot of ink. It is a futile gesture which will only leave us penniless.”

She shakes his hands off her arms. “Dear sweetheart, a woman can compel a man merely by her lilt. Let me spin a web of my femininity on him and the results may surprise you.”

Her oldest brother says, “Only a fool would underestimate the power of womanly wiles. His obedience is a foregone conclusion under your influence.”

The daughter steps up to her father’s bed. She combs his thinning hair with her fingers. Then the magic begins. “Papa, I am ashamed to say that we have foxed you. The young man by my side was the best man at your son’s wedding. We are no more married than pen pals though passionate ones. Please forgive me and listen to my words. The family you placed us with was kind and gentle just like you. But you didn’t have to adopt us out for us to work hard. Do you know I used to dream about you at night? I wondered what your life was like and prayed for you. I’d see your lipstick ads in the paper and use your lip gloss because I was proud to have you as my true father. Please don’t ever think we were ungrateful to you. Don’t you want us to have a nest egg for when we give you grandchildren? I love you for your kind and gentle heart. I respect your decision however the cards may fall and know you have our best interest at heart.”

The father moans. “Nurse, get me some tissues I’m crying. If only the real world had a place for lawyers like you. There is too little mercy in courtrooms and homes. You have made your case well. I will summon my lawyer this very night and sign the papers for full restoration for your Mom, you, and your brothers.” His daughter foregoes words opting for the language of touch as she kisses his forehead and cheeks.

The daughter addresses her brother’s groomsman. “Sturdy Eric, our nuptial hour draws apace.”

“You haven’t even proposed to me,” he answers.

“Doth I presume too much? Me thinketh not.”

For the first time, the sister’s of his wife take joy in their sister’s good fortune by enfolding her in their embrace of love.

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sasha
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Re: The Story of the Three Sisters

Post by sasha » August 15th, 2019, 10:31 am

This has the flow of a classic fairy tale - the father could just as well be a feudal baron as a cosmetics baron. There's a faint aura of Lear about the scheming daughters.
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I'm not an outlier. I just haven't found my distribution yet.

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goldenmyst
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Re: The Story of the Three Sisters

Post by goldenmyst » August 15th, 2019, 3:19 pm

This was part of a series of ancient myths I reinterpreted for modern times. This one was loosely based on a tale from the Arabian Nights book. Though I reinvented the plot, characters, and setting. Thank you for your perceptive comparison to King Lear and fairy tales. Your comment is very much appreciated. John

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