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thirteenth was Emily’s twenty-first birthday.  It fell on a Saturday, and she took the night off from her waitr essing job so we could go out and celebrate.  Mrs. Johnson, a widow who lived across the hall, absolutely adored Molly and volunteere d to take her for the night.
    Emily wanted to go to Maury’s.  It was an upscale Chicago club- complete with a thick , green velvet rope and a massive doorman blocking the entrance.   The only people he allowed through were dressed like celebrities.  I didn’t think my ten dollar clearance-rack heels from Target would quite make the cut.
    “What makes you think we’ll get in?”
    Emily gave me a reassuring pat.  “Don’t worry, I know a guy.”
    I could feel my eyes begin to narrow.  “A guy?”
    “Yes, Allie.  A guy.  You know, someone of the male species?  You should try it sometime.  Don’t give me that look!” she said when I wrinkled my nose.  “I waited on him yesterday at lunch.  We got to talking, and he asked if I’d ever been to the club.  He’s working the front door tonight and said he could get us in.”
    “Really?  But what if- .”
    “Would you stop worrying?  Everything will be fine, trust me!”
    I wasn’t so sure.
    “You remind me of Mom,” she continued.  “She was always so uptight about everything.  Loosen up and live a litt le, let’s have some fun tonight! ”
    Emily must have seen me flinch.  It had been almost three years since Mom’s accident, and while I did my best to cope, her death had left an empt iness that couldn’t be filled.
    She linked her fingers between mine. “Sorry.  I miss her too.  I was just trying to say- ” 
    “ No, i t’s okay, ” I said, squeezing her hand.  “Y ou’re right; I promise to try and have a good time tonight.”
    She planted a kiss on my hand and then trotted right up to the doorman.  Flashing him a bright smile, she tos sed her hair over her shoulder and batted her eyelashes.  It never ceased to amaze me that we were sisters.  W e were so opposite. 
    “John, hi!  Remember me?” she said, brushing a polished fingernail down his forearm.  “You said you could get us in tonight, so here we are!”
    “Emily!” he said, pulling her into a tight hug.  He wasn’t discrete about sliding his hand down over her backside.  Emily sure knew how to pick winners.
    “This is my sister, Allie,” she giggled, yanking on my arm. 
    He said hello but didn’t take his eyes off her.  It used to bother me that Emily always got the attention when it came to guys, but anymore I just expected it.  Her long, strawberry blonde hair fell past her shoulders, and her soft brown eyes were always smiling.  Her outgoing, bubbly personality made up for her petite frame, and she was the queen of vogue, always dressing according to the latest style.  I often told her that she should go to fashion school.  She could take random pieces of clothing and put them together to create any look she wanted.
    I, on the other hand, was lucky to find a pair of matching socks.  My fair skin was sensitive, so I wore very little makeup and was all thumbs when it came to styling my own hair.  Hence the frequency of the knot.  Emily was well aware of my incompetencies and had therefore insisted on dressing me tonight.  According to her, the coppery colored eye shadow she used made my blue eyes pop- she actually made that sound with her lips when she told me so, and with the aid of a small barrel curling iron, she spiraled my auburn hair into an explosion of tight, bouncy ringlets.  I wore a pair of snug black pants that hugged my butt a little too tightly, a slinky silver tank, and a red, low-cut, wrap-around sweater.  My only contribution s to the outfit were the ten dollar heels and a pair of cheap chandelier earrings .
    John pulled back the rope and gestured for us to go in.  “Ladies, have a good time!”  He lowered his voice and nudged Emily.  “Call me.”
    We stepped into a narrow,