Free Arranged by Catherine McKenzie

Every time I go there, it feels like nothing’s changed since my braids were caught up in yellow barrettes. I’ve often wondered what brought Gilbert back here, so close to our parents and the past.
    I disembark at the quiet train station a few blocks from their house and walk to their street. The white clapboard houses are all decorated with twinkling Christmas lights. Cathy and Gil’s neighbors have taken it to the next level, adding a string of nodding reindeer to their front porch. The faint echo of “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer” pollutes the otherwise still night.
    I stop in front of the long concrete walkway. The house is the mirror image of the neighbors’, sans reindeer. Through the front window, I see a large Christmas tree covered in colored lights and tinsel.
    I ring the bell. Jane, age six, bright red hair, gap in her front teeth, opens the door. She’s wearing a pair of flared jeans with pink flowers embroidered around the bottom and a matching pink sweater. “Aunty Anne, Aunty Anne!”
    I stoop down to give her a hug. She smells like Johnson & Johnson’s baby shampoo. “Hey, Jane-girl.”
    She wiggles away from me. “Did you know I’m getting an American Girl doll for Christmas?”
    “Oh, you are, are you?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “How do you know that?”
    She gives me a sly look. “Mommy and Daddy said so in the living room last night.”
    “They were talking about your Christmas present with you in the room?”
    “Nah. It was sleep time, but I was thirsty.” She pronounces it “tirtsy.”
    “You shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations, Jane-girl.”
    She clasps her hands behind her back, swinging them back and forth. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”
    “I know, cutie. It’s okay.”
    “You won’t tell Mommy, right?”
    “Don’t worry.”
    I ruffle her hair, and Jane takes my hand, pulling me toward the kitchen at the back of the house. The smell of baking chicken makes me instantly hungry.
    Cathy is standing at the stove, stirring a pot of gravy. Elizabeth, four, blond, big blue eyes, a little tubby, is clinging to her knees. Mary, also blond, and two, is in a playpen in the corner.
    “Hey, Cath.”
    She turns toward me, and I notice that pregnancy glow she always seems to get. Her dark blond hair is in a thick braid that hangs halfway down her back, and her clear skin shines like those girls’ in the Neutrogena commercials. If she weren’t one of the warmest people I’ve ever met, I’d hate her.
    “I’m glad you could make it, Anne. It’s been a while.”
    I pick a cookie off a plate sitting on the counter and pop it into my mouth. It tastes sweet and buttery. “Would you accept ‘I’ve been really busy at work’ as an excuse?”
    She smiles. The slight gap between her front teeth matches Jane’s. “Not a chance.”
    “I knew I was pushing my luck, you being a mother of almost four and all.”
    She laughs a deep, happy laugh. Elizabeth looks up at her adoringly. I can see her storing this laugh in her brain for when she’s older.
    “You think we’re certifiable, don’t you?” Cathy asks.
    “Not the whole couple, just you. You’re the one who chose to spend your life with my brother, after all.”
    I sit in the worn flowered chintz chair they keep in the corner of the kitchen, and Jane climbs into my lap. She puts her silky head against my chest and pops her thumb in her mouth. She looks so much like me at her age that it breaks my heart. Watching her these last six years has been like watching myself grow up all over again.
    “He has his good points.”
    “If you say so.”
    “Nice article, by the way. How’d you come up with the idea?”
    I hide my blush by burying my face in Jane’s hair. “I heard of a friend of a friend who was thinking of having an arranged marriage.”
    “How odd.”
    “Do you really find it that odd?”
    “I’m not sure. I guess some of the things that Oxford girl said made sense, but I’m not sure I could get