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I’ve always been known as ... Cora, or Cor to my best friend; my birth name is Corinne Taylor Hanson, though. It is pronounced ‘kor-een’. My parents always called me Corinne but Charlie had trouble saying it when we were little, so they let him call me Cora and it eventually stuck even though my parents hated people calling me that (especially the even shorter version). Mother fibs about her age ... but I don’t; I’m 27. Maybe when I’m older I’ll shave a few years off, just like she does. Looks have always been important to me … and they likely always will.. I was always told to dress professional and modest, and to never leave the house as an adult without makeup on or my hair done. I’ve got waist length straight strawberry blond hair, though it’s rarely let down. When I’m at work my hair is up in a tight bun at the back of my head, or maybe decorated with a few braids throughout with a skirt or slacks and a button up blouse. On weekends in public I’ll grace a ponytail, or a loose braid, and wear a pullover shirt with looser fitting slacks. My husband always has complimented my eyes; he says they are the color of fawn fur. He was is such a romantic. Nobody knows me like she does … not even my husband, but he’s a close second. I’ve always been a sheltered child, and wholly dependent on my parents. They taught me everything I should abide by. People in school thought I was standoffish and ignorant, and they were right then. Alexis got me to open up and talk to other people, but no one compared to her. I know I’m rather meek-mannered, shy especially in strange situations, and definitely still unaware of ‘the real world’. There really is a whole different world out there than in the suburbs being a wife and potential mother: I hope I get to experience it one day. I’ve always been fond of … Rom-Com’s! I’ve always wanted a perfect family with a loving husband, beautiful children, big house with a white picket fence, and humor among us all. I don’t remember my parents laughing much at all. Deep fried food! My parents the help always made healthy meals and stressed eating properly. I do eat well most of the time, but there’s nothing better than a big greasy cheeseburger and hot salty fries. I always got a laugh at Alexis putting up her nose when I wanted extra pickles. Gardening! Typically we weren’t allowed to get dirty but Mother and I had many good times tending to the dozens of flower beds surrounding the property. She wouldn’t let anyone else touch them. I know it was her way of making herself busy to the public, but I still enjoyed running back and forth with the watering can as she diligently plucked weeds and trimmed rose thorns. I absolutely can’t stand … Vodka. It’s my mother’s drink of choice. I had a martini with my mother at my wedding: that’s the first and last I’ll ever drink that vile liquid. Yellow. Normally I'm fond of pastels, and otherwise bright flowery colors. Yellow just seems passive aggressive to me; it's almost gaudy and tacky. I won't wear anything that has yellow on it, even if it's just a little highlight. Cilantro. It tastes like soap to me. I've heard that: people taste either soap or a type of spice or flavor. To me, it tastes like I ate spaghetti with a shaving of Irish Spring. It's disgusting. As far as I can recall ... X My parents were high school sweethearts named Renee and David. A soon as my mother realized she was pregnant at 17 my grandparents pressured him into marrying her. It was what was expected; my folks come from a long running line of WASP’s - men worked, women tended to the family. That’s just how life was. So, Renee was taken home from the private school she attended to give birth to my elder brother, while David dropped out to start working at a metal sheet factory. My brother, Charles, was about two when Mother became pregnant with me, and we did have a lovely beginning. My parents seemed happy, my grandparents adored us, but as I grew a little older I realized something wasn’t right. I was allowed to visit friends, and my brother could too - yet no one was ever allowed to stay the night. I could have sleepovers at someone else’s house, but no matter how much we begged our parents would never let our friends stay over. Eventually we stopped asking because we accepted: that’s just how life was. As Charlie and I got into our early teens, a pair of siblings joined our school district. My brother immediately took to Eric as a friend and fellow teammate, but it wasn’t until I got paired up with Alexis that we became friends. I had thought she was a little weird, but she sure made me laugh! I enjoyed spending time with her, despite our parents pushing our academics above anything else. If we got less than a 90% on any assignment, we’d be punished. Father was the one to push us; Mother didn’t seem as interested in what we did. Once when Charlie got a low grade for a semester, Father wouldn’t let him play football even though the coach said he could. I remember sitting outside in the hall as Father argued with the coach for a few minutes, and when they both emerged not a word was said. Father just looked down at Charlie for a moment, and the coach didn’t even meet my brother’s eyes. I saw the disappointment on his face, though. Charlie never let his grade go down again. I tried to ask Mother why Father wouldn’t let him play, but she simply shrugged her shoulders while drinking yet another martini. Everything changed the following year. Charlie just started high school; we were both doing very well with our studies and the extra-curricular activities our parents approved of. He played sports, and I played music. Mother convinced Father a few years previously to let me learn the violin, and piano. Charlie had been at a friend’s house after school; they were heading to practice when another driver ran a red light and crashed into them. My brother’s friend and his mom survived ... But Charlie did not. Mother lost it, and so did Father. I was barely 12 at the time, but I knew nothing would be the same again. Alexis really stepped up after his funeral; we’d always been friends in school but started hanging out much more often. She meant everything to me at the time. I knew I’d never find such a strong person again in my life. From helping me overcome my shyness, to teaching me how to be more courageous and brave, she absolutely guided me through the grief and awkward stages of being a teenager. I had never thought before his death that we’d become so close. Then, in our final year of school, I started dating a classmate named Adrian.. Alexis didn’t seem particularly fond of him, but was always there to give me advice nonetheless - even after I admitted that him and I were going to college together, and not the one she was going to. We promised to always remain friends, and we always did. Still, as life goes, we did drift apart. Once my parents found out that Adrian and I planned to move in together rather than in separate dorms, they insisted on having ‘the talk’ with him. To my surprise, they gave us permission but only if we got married first. We’d only been dating for a couple years but still: that’s the way it was. My parents did not want us to go through what they did. It was a humongous glorious ceremony; I’d say at least a hundred people were there. Oddly enough, there was only two people I wanted to see. My husband, of course, and my best friend. I needed her there as a weird half-goodbye, type of thing. Forever we’d be close, but I wanted her smile to let me know it was okay to go off and start a family, to acknowledge it was painful that we’d see even less of each other. We went from talking every day to once or twice a week ... then less than that. That’s the way Life is, though. That’s what my mother insisted. Time to be a wife, soon a mother; no longer a ‘wild child’ (as if I ever was) but I knew better than to question my parents Life. We promised to finish our educations before trying for children; I earned degrees in teaching music to children, while Adrian passed the BAR exam to become a lawyer at his father’s firm. He made plenty of money so I only worked part time as a substitute teacher while tending to the house as well. We did try for a child several times but nothing has come of it yet. We’ve both been tested; we are able to conceive but I’m not sure why our first hasn’t come yet. Both of our parents have continually asked why but there is no answer yet. He’s taken up my mother’s habit; I have little interest in it and I argue with him about it. Last week he raised his hand to me ... So I called the only other person I could trust.