Saturday's Child

There are seven of us, my siblings and I. Each of us was born on a different day of the week. That’s what our mother used to tell us. I was born on a Saturday, when they say that Saturday’s child has to work hard for a living they don’t say it’s because she has to deal with all of the other days of the week. Though of course some of them cause more problems then others, like my brother Jonathon. By all right I should be able to live without ever working. Our parents left us very well off, with enough money and a very large mansion. Because of this most of us still live on the family land. The problem is I am the oldest, and that leaves me with enough responsibilities that it seems like I never get any rest at all.

I was actually thinking about my lack of rest when I heard a knock on the study door. Through unofficial agreement the study is mine. It’s only fair since I run everything that I get the room most useful as an office. Usually the others don’t go near it, not unless they want me to give them something to do. I am very good at delegation, and very bitter about being the only one in the house that does any real work.

“Come in,” I shouted. The door is very thick; if I don’t shout then people don’t hear me. There is no way I am going to start getting up to let them in.

“I need to talk to you Elizabeth,” said Jonathon, peering around the door. I motioned him to a chair but I can’t say I was looking forward to the interview. I mentioned Jonathon before. He is truly Wednesday’s child, full of woe. He is always trying to move out of the house but always comes back after a few months. A large part of this is that he is always trying to move out with various girls. It isn’t so much that he lacks ability as he has poor taste in women, and can’t stand living alone.

“So what is it?” I asked him. Already resigned to hear him tell me about yet another girlfriend, he surprised me.

“Helen and George have been talking to me. Apparently I have been worrying the family.”

“I wouldn’t say worrying,” I argued. “But I will say that you do sometimes come up in conversation. It’s only natural, you seem to have such bad luck that of course we are concerned about what might happen to you.”

“I would call that worrying. So I’ve been thinking it’s time to break the cycle of moving out only to come back. I’m going to ease myself into it this time.”

“So you aren’t moving out?” I asked, relieved. It isn’t that I don’t want him to be free of the house if that’s what he wants, two of our other siblings live elsewhere, but I didn’t want to see him hurt again.

“No, not yet, I want to be self sufficient first, I want to open a shop. I was wondering if you would help me. George says he will give me part of the money to start with.” I smiled, George would. George cared a lot about family, and he was so generous with the money he earned that it was a wonder he had any for himself. It might have been because he gave all of his money away that George still lived with us, along with is wife and their children. The more the merrier of course, but having the children run around the house didn’t make it any calmer.

“I think opening a shop is a great idea,” I enthused. “What kind of shop were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about a clothing store, nothing to fancy but I do like clothes and always have. I think I could sell enough to at least make a living. Once it starts making money I will think about moving again. But if you wouldn’t mind I would like to stay here until I am on my feet.”

“Of course,” I said. It must have been Helen and George’s influence. This was the most well thought out plan I had ever heard from Jonathon.

To be continued