The fact that C.C. was slighter built than her sisters didn’t stop her from demanding their attention. She walked over pulling her roommate into the center of the kitchen. “Everybody,” she vied for their attention over the garbage disposal that Terri quickly shut off as fast as she did to turn it on. “This is my roommate Sam. Sam, this is my mother, Mable Gordon.”

The smaller woman with gray tinged hair was pointed out and Sam found herself smiling back at her politely. Before she knew it, she was jerked in another direction.

“You’ve already met Terri.” C.C. waved her arm as if to dismiss that sister entirely. “The nitwit standing next to her is my sister, Randi.”

Sam noticed an air of superiority rolling off this woman, as if she was in total control of everything about her. Hmmm… The blonde found her eyes lingering over the form and not paying attention to a word that C.C. was saying.

“And last but definitely not least, the lump sitting on the counter is my sister, Brooke.” With the introductions done, C.C. stood back and waited to see what would happen.

“Hello, dear.” Mable offered her hand to Sam.

“Huh, oh,” the blonde turned toward Mrs. Gordon and immediately shook her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. We’re glad you could join us for dinner today. Please, have a seat and make yourself at home,” Mable offered, as she gestured towards the kitchen table.

“Thank you for having me.” Sam’s voice was soft and her manners polite; so different from C.C.’s.

At the first sound of Sam’s voice, Brooke lifted her head to see from whom the melodic sound had come, moving slightly to get a better view around her tall sisters obstructing her view.

“Welcome. I’m Randi.”

Sam watched as the tallest of the sisters extended her hand in greeting. The woman was easily over six feet tall with long brown hair just a shade lighter than the rest of her sisters. Her eyes were a soft brown that seemed to twinkle when she smiled.

She’s confident, that’s for sure. I wonder… Sam could tell that she had a no-nonsense way about her. The blonde eyed the woman carefully as she shook her hand in greeting. “Thank-you. It’s nice to meet you.” She’s gorgeous! Sam wondered if this could be the sister C.C. had mentioned when she told her that one of them was gay.

Randi smiled and motioned Terri over with her head. “This here is my kid sister, Terri.”

Rolling her eyes at Randi’s description, Terri snapped back a tease readily. “Yeah, bite me, old lady. We’ve already met.” She then offered a hand to Sam as well. “Hi. It’s nice to see you again. Glad you could make it.”

The blonde smiled at the thought of actually knowing someone else here besides C.C., and was glad that Terri had stopped at the dorm that first day.

Sam studied the two siblings side by side. They looked and acted no different than one another. There was nothing happening here. Great, gaydar shutdown and I still have another sister to meet. She had wondered, after Terri had left the dorm the other day, if the scrub clad sister could be the one C.C. mentioned. Why was C.C. being so secretive about it with her anyway?

“Thanks. It’s nice to see you again as well.” Sam tried to steal a peek in the last sister’s direction but couldn’t quite see her through the small crowd that was forming a human wall around her. Damn, what did C.C. say her name was? Sammy girl, you’ve got to pay more attention when meeting new women in the future.

There was a moment of uneasy silence resulting in everyone slowly turning to look in Brooke’s direction.

Finally sensing that something was wrong, the woman with long dark hair who was sitting on the counter looked up. “What?” Brooke asked, as she noticed her mother motion her off of the counter with her eyes. Brooke jumped down and walked over by the rest of her family.

Letting her eyes follow the woman until she stopped next to her sibling, Sam noticed that she was almost as tall as Randi, but not quite. There had to be an inch or so difference between them.

Standing with her arms crossed over her chest and a smirk on her face, C.C. waited for Brooke’s reaction. For a second, she wondered if her sister had actually given any thought to their conversation a couple of days earlier. Now, with C.C. standing the closest to her, the youngest sister was the only one who heard the slight gasp from Brooke as her eyes met Sam’s for the first time.

The sulking woman stood dumfounded, the only word she could form at that moment was her own name barely louder than a whisper as she extended her hand. “B…Brooke.”

“Sam,” was the quiet reply as she took the offered hand into her own. I wonder if she is the one?

She couldn’t believe how blue Brooke’s eyes were when she locked gazes with the woman. Everyone else she had met in the family had brown eyes of one tone or another. Yet, Brooke’s were so incredibly blue. She hoped she wasn’t staring but, deep down, she knew she was.

Brooke never made the motion to move away, it was as if she was transfixed in time and space.

Both Randi and Terri glanced over to each other, raising matched eyebrows at each other, while C.C. stood pleased with herself as she watched Brooke and Sam meet without saying anything more than their respective names.

“I’m starving. Is dinner ready?” The deeper voice came from the man now entering the kitchen.

Sam and Brooke let their thread of contact go as the center of attention now turned to the man standing over by Mable. Sam watched as he placed a soft kiss on his wife’s cheek and smiled.

“Just about Henry. Randi, Brooke, why don’t you two set the dining room table.” Mable was now directing everyone’s attention.

Randi and Brooke nodded their heads in agreement and went to do as they were told, proving that their mother was still able to control the family, even after they were grown women.

Sam watched Brooke go about her chore. Lost in the last few moments, she wondered just how long they would have stood that way if someone had not have walked through the kitchen door and distracted them.

Mable turned Henry around towards the young blonde at C.C.’s side. “Henry, meet C.C.’s roommate, Sam.”

The older man looked at the small girl in front of him. He smiled warmly at her as she looked up at his tall frame. “Want me to lean over a bit so we can see eye to eye without you getting whip-lash?” He teased, leaning down some. “Hello. I’m Henry. It’s nice to meet you.” He held out a hand to Sam who took it, amazed at how softly the man wrapped his large hand around hers and shook it.

“It’s nice meeting you too, sir,” Sam said politely, looking up into friendly brown eyes.

“Chase, why don’t you give your friend here a tour of the place and then we’ll all sit down to dinner,” Mable offered.

Doing as her mother directed, C.C. gave Sam a modest tour of the home. By the time they had finished, dinner was on the table.

For the amount of chattering and carrying on that was present in the kitchen earlier, dinner itself was a rather quiet affair. Sam had absolutely no idea why C.C. had felt it important to ‘warn her’, as she had put it.

With the main courses of the dining experience over, Sam waited for the right time to speak up. “Thank you very much for dinner, Mrs. Gordon. The pot roast was delicious,” Sam complimented as she placed her napkin on the table.

“You’re welcome, dear, anytime. And, thank you. I’m glad you liked it.” She turned her eyes away from Sam to look at her husband who was at the opposite end of the table. “Henry, would you clear the table for dessert?” Mable asked her husband.

“Of course, Dear,” Henry replied as he stood and began to clear away all of the dinner dishes.

“Need any help, Dad?” C.C. offered as she watched her father make his way to every woman seated at the table.

Henry rolled his eyes at his youngest daughter before replying, “You know better, Chase.”

Sam felt as if she were missing something. Although she thought it was great that Mr. Gordon was waiting on his family, hand and foot, she still found it a tad unusual.

Terri noticed the look of confusion on their guest’s face and offered to explain. “Don’t worry about Dad, Sam. We girls and Mom get together for Sunday dinner at least once a month. Dad’s only been allowed to join us for the last couple of years. He complained about having to eat TV dinners while we were having a wonderful home cooked meal, so Mom made him a deal: he could stay and join our dinners but he had to wait on us.”

I wonder what my dad would do? Sam considered her father as she went from one face to another of all the women seated at the table.

Henry did as his wife asked of him and before long, returned with a stack of plates and an apple pie. Mable addressed her daughters on the topic they had been discussing earlier in the day. Henry placed the dessert in front of his wife and then continued to serve the remaining women at the table.

“Thank you, Henry. Come on, girls, someone has to know of a nice woman for your sister. You know, one that could settle her down a bit?”

Brooke groaned as she placed her glass back on the table. Once you got their mother started on something, she never let it go. “Mom, I really don’t think that’s necessary.” Brooke really did not feel like having this discussion now.

“Nonsense. What kind of girl do you like, Brooke? What catches your eye?”

All Brooke could do was look at her mother, speechless at her choice of topic for an after-dinner conversation especially with company present.

Sam let a smile cross her face and the barest of twinkles grace her eyes. Well, I guess I know which sister bats for my team, now.

“Well, I don’t think it’s the butch kind,” Randi offered as Terri nodded her head in agreement.

They all watched as Brooke’s face turned redder by the moment. Only one question remained on their minds: was it due to embarrassment or anger?

“No, the butch type would be way too much competition for Ol’ Brooke.” C.C. sat back in her chair and offered her thoughts on the subject.

Randi looked over to the object of their conversation, giving her a once over with those soft brown eyes of hers. “Well, with a build like that, she’s no Karen Carpenter but she would give Chyna a run for her money.”

The youngest sibling placed her fork on the table and looked up, confused. “What do Chinese carpenters have to do with this?”

Terri laughed at her sister as she replied, “Before your time, C.C.”

“Actually, C.C., Karen Carpenter was a great drummer.” Sam decided to jump into the conversation and leaned into the table as she looked from her roommate to Terri and back again.

Brooke lifted her head and arched an eyebrow in the girl’s direction. “You’re familiar with drummers?” Brooke asked.

“Oh yeah. I love hearing great women pound out the beat of their hearts. I’ve listened to music all my life. The women drummers never get any fame.” She emphasized that statement with a firm shaking of her head.

“So, you like women drummers, Sam?” Terri asked nonchalantly as she took a bite of her apple pie, her brown eyes darting briefly to Brooke then back to her plate.

“Yes, I do. Very much. It’s amazing to watch how much strength they have when behind a kit…I mean a drum set, yet they can still be so graceful as they play.”

“Well, maybe some women drummers don’t get any fame because they’d rather not have to deal with the hassle that comes along with it. They’d rather just play instead,” Brooke offered.

Sam turned her gaze to Brooke. “Well, let’s just say that they never get the credit they deserve. They just seem to fade into thin air. Like ghosts in the night,” the blonde held her fist up in the air and opened it as though she was releasing something into the air. “They are there for a minute and gone the next.” The young woman let her gaze go off into the distance as if she could see them all waiting to be plucked from the heavens.

Brooke was speechless at how emotionally Sam spoke on the subject.

“My, my… I see we have a little poet in our midst,” Henry commented. “Maybe some of that will rub off on our C.C. during the next year or so.” The man winked at his daughter as he brought the coffee cup to his lips.

“But you know… I have to admit that the best drummer, male or female, in my book was…”

Sam was interrupted as Henry jumped up from the table, having spilled his coffee on his shirt. “Oh, damn, excuse me. I’ll be right back.” Henry made his way out of the dining room, leaving his coffee cup and wiping the brown spot on his shirt with his napkin.