I don't like her.

Brother was arrested for drug possession about a month after he started dating his wife. His previous girlfriend – he cheated on her with his future wife – had kept him relatively controlled in terms of substances. We have a bit of a problem with alcoholism in my family (which explains why I drink extremely sparingly, actually), but Sarah kept him pretty sober and always picked him up if he did get drunk at a friend’s house. Brother’s wife (who I don’t like enough to name in case you were wondering) partied harder than Brother, so not only was he drinking a lot, he was also doing some extra smoking.

So, arrested, blah blah blah, she got pregnant so she could quit school, more crap and times when I’m cold or openly hostile to her, I refuse to participate in their wedding after walking after Brother as he stumbled down an alley at 8AM on a Sunday morning. He was still completely drunk from the night before and they had argued – she insisted she was leaving him and taking the Little One – and I was in church clothes and heels. (I did stand up with him after some pressure by Mom and Aunt.) I don’t agree with her parenting choices sometimes, though she is a good mother. I hate how she treats Brother – she once told me she was too good for him and I laughed at her.

There’s more, of course – I don’t dislike people unless I feel justified (notice I said feel justified, not am justified). I shook my finger at her over Christmas. She left Brother and Mom was miserable. She returned on Christmas Eve and attended our family celebration as if she’d done nothing to us by not allowing Brother to see the Little One or to talk to them on the phone. She’s young – just 21 now, and the Little One will soon turn 2 – and thrives on power. I don’t like her. I just don’t.

But the Christmas debacle distanced me from my family a great deal, and they shield me from any of Brother’s problems even more. I know some about his life – the general facts, promotions, etc. – less about his wife – I couldn’t tell you where she worked for any amount of money – and a great deal about the Little One. Inviting them for this week wasn’t done lightly, and I’ve enjoyed having them for the most part. Brother’s promotion has meant high stress levels, so Mom encouraged me to be kind and peaceful. So I have. (Honestly.)

It’s been easy until today – I apparently can only tolerate 2 days before I start gritting my teeth until my jaw aches. But the extensive nap she took this morning while we took care of the Little One, the 3 hours it then took her to get ready, her insistence on her way in her timing when we shopped, the four cases of beer that three people have finished with extra trips to the bar for more alcohol, the constant droopy eyes and inability to drive…

“Your wife is bugging me.” I said tightly to Brother as we headed off to get a slice of pizza for lunch while the other girls – his wife, her friend (Brother didn’t bring anyone) and Little One decided what they wanted.

“Me too, actually.” He said. I nodded because in terms of annoyances and preferences, we’re pretty similar. We’ve obviously made different life choices, but I still have no idea how he tolerates this girl.

“She such a child.” I said.

I got worse when we arrived at Cousin’s house. I’m viciously protective of my family – it’s why I’m so careful not to take anyone home because I don’t want to associate myself with him in front of my family unless I’m sure he’s amazing – and she doesn’t deserve them. Nor should she treat their homes as her own. It’s my family and she’s damn lucky to even speak to them.

The Little One, however, is hers. This irritates me. I know it’s wrong and I’m sure I’ll feel badly about writing this at some point, but for now? It’s bothersome that such a delightful child belongs with a woman I find useless more often than not. So my breaking point came in the pool. I contented myself with a noodle behind my head after I’d tired of swimming and decided to float. I love the water, and don’t mind floating without a raft. But I couldn’t resist a huffy glare when she demanded not only the single raft, but said that it should wait for her while she was in and out of the pool.

That actually wasn’t the point where we glared at each other, our mutual dislike clear.

“My parents are putting in a pool.” She said with a hint of superiority. I rolled my eyes – if anyone is superior, it’s going to be me. My parents watch the Little One three nights a week – they’re very close. Her parents, in contrast, have kept her 3 nights in 2 years. They’re nice people, of course – her mother’s not my favorite, but I do like her dad. I just favor my parents, as does the Little One.

Regardless, I didn’t respond.

“They want it for all their grandchildren.” She continued from her sprawl on the raft.

I rolled my eyes again, and heard Brother laugh. “A pool’s a lot of work for two kids who aren’t around all that much.” He said. His wife’s brother also had a child before he was married.

“Not two, baby!” She whined. “Four!”

“What four?” I asked, finally opting into the conversation, feeling sick.

“My brother and his girlfriend are pregnant again.” She announced. “I told you to tell her!” She scolded Brother. “They’re 7 or 8 weeks along.”

“Yes. Fine. Great. Are you pregnant?” I asked, knowing she’d rapidly done so right after her brother announced his first child’s conception.

“Not yet!” She chirped. “But we’re going to try again soon. Like in 2 days! We’re having two and they’ll be close in age. Plus, I’m ready for another baby!”

“Can you afford it?” I said, not able to censor as I should have. “Do Mom and Dad know? They’re not paying daycare for a second child – if you guys decide to do this, you should take responsibility for it.”

“We can afford it. I already turned off our land line to save money.” And this is when I glared. Because first, though I could be wrong, my guess is that babies are more expensive than phone lines. Second, because they don’t need a land line – my parents are paying for cell phones for both of them. So I’m less than impressed by her responsibility level overall.

The thing is that I know it’s not my problem. Mom has requested that I stay out of it – not protect Brother or her or Dad because they can take care of themselves. But when someone – an outsider, dammit – a girl not worthy of my family – takes constant advantage of them, then acts as though we’re ever so lucky to behold her greatness? I don’t see it, and I feel it necessary – no, irresistible – to let her know that I’m positive that she’s not so great. It’s petty, I know. I can’t help it.

So I reverted to the icy disdain I’ve typically employed. Distancing myself emotionally always and physically whenever possible. I do feel ugly around her – she’s skinny and blonde and has a pretty face. She has a husband who loves her and a child I’d be thrilled to have. She cuddled with Brother on my couch tonight – the couch I hoped to share with someone, watching television, being close. I may not ever do that – she may be far superior to me because she figured it out. Has a family. And friends. So jealousy might play a role, though it pains me to admit it.

I’ll figure it out, and I’ll try to be nicer tomorrow. But I’m also going to work – I need some distance to center myself a bit. But I’m sad today. I don’t like being petty and cold. I want to greet the possible news of a new niece and nephew with joyous expectation, not dread that Mom and Dad will overextend themselves still more to help with a baby that Brother’s wife just has to have. Perhaps I’m just in a mood. But, well, ick.