Rick was sitting in Darcy’s car in the driveway, just staring at himself in the visor mirror. He knew he was close to 50 at this point. He could almost see the grey in his temples and beard spreading. And he was irrevocably bald on top. And had a “dad bod.”
A typical middle aged man.
The passenger door swung open and his sister, Melanie stood there. He still couldn’t believe his 5-year-old sister looked and acted like a woman in her mid-30s.
“Rick,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat. “I know you’re upset. But you have to come into the house. Life is too short to just mope.”
“Life is too short,” Rick chuckled. “Boy if only you knew.”
He turned and looked at his sister, searching for any visible signs of aging. He noticed two little laugh lines, one on either side of her mouth.
“You’re aging,” he said solemnly.
“That’s true,” Melanie said. “I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m five. I’m a grown woman with a career and a roommate and insurance.”
Rick stifled something between a smile and a cry.
Melanie continued: “And you have a daughter, big brother. You’re her sole support. She’s almost a whole day old. You don’t want to miss her entire formative years, do you?”
Rick shook his head.
Mel smiled. “Good. Now. Go inside and take care of your daughter and mom. Lily and I will make us lunch.”
Just then, Henry — now appearing to be in his early- to mid-30s — burst out of the house.
“Mel! Rick! Come quickly!” Henry cried. “I think Mom’s having a stroke!”