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They stripped Dahlia’s bed too, then put the sheets and blankets in the laundry basket. Dahlia was right—her pile of laundry was much less.
Next they went to the living room and put that back together because it’d be faster.
“I’m going to vacuum the bedrooms and living room when the laundry is picked up. Might as well do it all at once,” Ivy said.
“Let me wipe down everything,” Jasmine said, grabbing paper towels and cleaner. “Ivy, can I do your room?”
“Please,” she said, not even thinking of that.
“I’ve got yours too, Dahlia.”
“You just don’t want to clean the kitchen,” Ivy said to Jasmine. “I don’t blame you. It’s gross.”
“You’re the one that normally tried to get out of cleaning the kitchen,” Dahlia said. “But why don’t you do what Jasmine was going to?”
“Why?” she asked. She hated to always be told what to do.
“I think it’s a good idea,” Jasmine said. “You need to go into your room alone. We are here, but you’ll feel better getting it over with.”
She hadn’t thought of it that way. She knew they were pushing her for her own good.
“Okay,” she said, taking the supplies out of Jasmine’s hands. “I didn’t want to clean the kitchen anyway.”
Her sisters laughed. She figured she might as well do her room first.
She took a deep breath and walked in, looked around, and though it wasn’t messy, it didn’t feel like her sanctuary anymore.
Hopefully once the bed was made and her clothes were put away it would.
There wasn’t much on her dresser other than her jewelry box so she removed that and wiped it all down, then did the same with her nightstand, and her entire bed frame, the doorknobs and anything else this person might have touched.
She actually felt better when she was done and went to do the same thing in Dahlia’s room.
When she returned to the living room thirty minutes later, her sisters were laughing in the kitchen.
“All done?” Jasmine asked her.
“In our rooms, yes. What’s so funny?”
“We were just talking about the earthquakes we’ve been through and how the kitchen looked like this once. That’s how I’m thinking of it,” Dahlia said.
She remembered the things they’d lived through growing up. If she could get through that, she could get through this.
“I guess in the bigger picture, this is better than some of the puddle hopper planes we’ve flown on.”
Dahlia and Jasmine burst out laughing. “Never again,” Dahlia said. “I’d clean this up a hundred times before you’d get me on one of them.”
Dahlia had the weakest stomach and spent most flights puking, but those small planes were horrible for her sister.
“My fingers couldn’t handle another flight with Ivy,” Jasmine said.
She used to cry through those flights and would grip Jasmine’s fingers. “I’m not bad flying anymore. I’m medicated.”
“Me too,” Dahlia said, giggling. Her oldest sister never laughed this much and she couldn’t imagine what was so funny about what they were going through.
“We are so broken,” Ivy said.
“Speak for yourself,” Jasmine said. “I’m fine.”
