Free Home with My Sisters by Mary Carter Page A

“May I help you?”
    â€œThat girl who just came in,” Hope said. “The blond one?”
    â€œWho are you here to see?” The doorman stood taller as if bracing himself for a tackle.
    â€œJoy Garland. My sister. You just opened the door for her.”
    â€œWho may I say is calling?” The doorman opened the door and allowed Austin and Hope to step into the lobby. An artificial Christmas tree took center stage in the marble and glass lobby. The tree’s decorator had been a purist; purple tulip-shaped glass bulbs were the only ornaments that adorned it. A starfish sat at the top, and little white lights twinkled from nearly every branch. With the plethora of pines on the west coast, couldn’t this fancy condo building afford a real tree? And was it trying to be edgy and artistic? All purple? Don’t try so hard to be cool, tree! she wanted to shout. Nobody likes a hipster.
    â€œTell her it’s her sister, Hope, and that I’m right here in the lobby.”
    â€œI’m afraid the residence does not belong to your sister and therefore you are not on the approved guest roster.”
    â€œWho does this residence belong to?”
    â€œI’m afraid I can’t give out that information.”
    â€œWell. You could call her, tell her I’m here, or we’ll just wait in the lobby until she comes down.”
    â€œI cannot have unapproved guests waiting in the lobby.”
    â€œYou’ll call her then,” Hope said. It wasn’t worded as a question. There were a couple of leather chairs in the waiting area so Hope sauntered over and sat down. “Comfy,” she said. “I could wait here all day.” Austin took the other seat.
    â€œMrs. Mann wouldn’t like this,” the doorman said.
    â€œHarrison’s mother?” Hope said, making a wild guess.
    â€œAre you here to see Harrison then?” the doorman asked.
    â€œI believe we are,” Austin said.
    â€œYou’re not on the guest roster,” the doorman repeated again.
    â€œThis is a family emergency,” Hope said.
    â€œPlease,” the doorman said, gesturing for them to leave. “You are free to call her. Why don’t you leave the premises and call her. I’m sure she’ll meet you somewhere.”
    â€œShe’s not answering her phone,” Hope said. “Either her battery died, or she’s lost it, or she’s ignoring me.”
    â€œYou cannot stay here. Please. I need you to exit the building.”
    â€œDo you have siblings?” Hope asked.
    The doorman looked around as if she might be directing the question to an unseen person behind him. “Yes,” he said finally. “I have two brothers.”
    â€œAre you the middle child?”
    â€œHow did you know?” His voice perked up. Hope didn’t know, but she was happy she guessed right.
    â€œI can tell by the confident way you hold yourself. We middle children have to always be the peacemakers, don’t we?”
    â€œYes, yes,” he said excitedly. “I have often kept my brothers in line.” Hope nodded her encouragement. “And when I say ‘in line,’ I mean out of jail.”
    â€œI doubt they appreciate it, though, do they?”
    He shook his head, then lifted it toward the ceiling as if praying. “They always ask for more.”
    â€œRight?” Hope said. “Where’s the love?”
    â€œWhere’s the love?” the doorman repeated. “Where is it?” The second time he sounded as if he was genuinely asking her.
    Hope shook her head. “You’re an unsung hero.”
    The doorman put his hand on his heart. “That’s me.”
    Hope nodded. “And what if you had a family emergency and had to get ahold of one of them, but through no fault of your own they weren’t talking to you?”
    â€œI cannot believe they would put me in this position,” the doorman said, sounding more