Holidays' end

New Year's Eve was perfect, everything a New Year's Eve should be. There were sisters and friends and champagne and sparklers and midnight kisses all around. Then my sisters and I headed back to my apartment in Denton to sleep for a few hours before getting up to take #3 to the airport at 8 a.m.



We managed to wake up. It wasn't nearly enough sleep, and we all smelled like campfire, and some were still a bit dizzy, but we got up and loaded the car and even had about three minutes to spare. Then I asked #3 to bring up my keys so I could lock my 2nd-story apartment, and she asked if she could just toss them up, and I said OK, and so she did.



And they landed on the roof.

Neither one of us reacted. We didn't laugh or scream or cry or moan or anything. We just stared at each other. Then a choice word came out of my little sister's mouth and we went into oh-no mode. Keys stuck on the roof, spare car key at our parents' house in Dallas, no one to drive us anywhere, flight in under 2 hours.

Our options were tremendously limited. I brought out a broomstick, but it didn't come close to hooking over the edge of the roof. Number 4 stood down by the car and told us the keys were near the edge and that if we could just get onto the roof we could get them easily, but we had no ladder, and this roof wasn't exactly designed for easy accessibility.



I called the apartment office, but it was closed at 8 a.m. on New Year's. Go figure. Then I called a tow truck, which didn't make much sense, but that's who you usually call when you can't drive your car, right? "Our keys are stuck on the roof and we need a ladder to get them down. Do you offer that service?" I asked. "No ma'am, we don't," said a very cross tow-truck man.

After that I called a couple grad school friends, hoping that all of them had their phones off and wouldn't be disturbed, but also wanting to prove to my sister that I would go to any lengths to get her to her flight in time. No one picked up. A certain sister who shall remain numberless suggested we stand on each other's shoulders to try to hoist one sister onto the roof. That idea got vetoed pretty quickly. Not really a Sydney Bristow among us. Plus, changing a flight seemed much preferable to calling an ambulance. And all the while a neighbor from across the parking lot sat on his balcony watching and shaking his head.

After about 45 minutes we finally reached the acceptance stage of our morning. Those keys were just not coming down until the world woke up. Number 2 went inside to go back to sleep, and #4 and I sat in the apartment and wondered again what just happened. Number 3 went walking around the complex in what I assumed was frustration.

Then I heard scraping on my roof. Turns out she'd found one of those 20-foot pool nets by the empty apartment pool and had lugged it back to my place. It didn't quite reach the keys, but it came close. Then the neighbor who'd been annoying us by his careful observance all morning came over bearing some sort of child's toy, which he duct taped to the end of the pool net. Since he was stronger he maneuvered the contraption while we stood in the parking lot and guided him. "Yes, you're almost there! Just an inch away!" "You touched them for a second; go back!" Hopefully we didn't wake any neighbors with our cheerleading. After a few minutes the keys fell to the ground.

We drove fast, and when we pulled into the airport terminal #3 hopped out and ran to check in without any farewell hugs. She made her flight, though. And thus ended our holiday reunion.