Our room was in the back. It looked over the garden, the garage behind that. We had a record player on a wobbly table between our beds and listened to records in the dark, the hallway light coming under the door in a broken throbbing line, sloped to the end. I felt whole with my arms flat against the sheets, my face just touching the covers, listening to my sister’s breathing and her changing positions in her bed. I wanted to stay like that forever.
We listened to KC and the Sunshine Band and then the Bee Gees. And then the needle picked up and clicked down and it was quiet. My sister got out of bed and took off her pajamas. I did too.She went out the door, running. I went after her, the warm brightness now cool, stretching my hand out against the wallpaper, an angular flower pattern that bubbled in curlicues. We were at the top of the stairs, looking over the banister, and heard Nani coming out of the kitchen, her shoes hard on the linoleum into the hall. We ran back and hid under the covers, laughing, when her shadow cut into the warm broken light and she pulled my covers back. “Get your pajamas back on this instant.”