Coffee-shop Confrontation
Like most sisters, Arla and Katherine were complete opposites. Katherine, punctual as usual, sat sipping her Chai Latté and reviewed the notes for her lecture to the Intro to Behavioral Sciences class at 2:00. Her Blackberry showed 12:15. She sighed and took the last bite of her muffin. Eyeing the second one on the table, she considered the miles she’d need to run on the treadmill just to work off the one and shook her head slightly in a futile attempt to banish the distracting temptation and returned to her reading. As she was taking the last sip of her latté, Arla glided in, drawing every male eye. Oblivious to the open-mouth and glazed look of admiration on the spotty cashier’s face and the array of sweet temptation, she slid into the chair opposite Katherine.
“Trouble on the way here?” she asked, returning her lecture notes to her briefcase.
“Not really,” Arla muttered, tapping perfectly manicured fuscia-painted nails on the Formica table in a staccato rhythm. Katherine observed her in silence for a moment. Arla was rarely calm and not terribly stable emotionally even before they lost Mom and Dad in a plane crash two years ago.
“I bought an extra muffin for you.” Kathy pushed the paper plate toward Arla. She picked it up, broke it neatly in half. Putting one half in the plate, she pulled off a minuscule piece and laid it in the middle of her…
