Monday Character Analysis in One Two Three by Laurie Frankel
Overview
Monday—called “Two” in the triplet shorthand—is the middle child of the Mab, Monday, and Mirabel triplet set in Laurie Frankel’s One Two Three. She narrates the novel’s third chapter, titled “Two,” and is defined by a secret creative practice: crafting handmade postcards for her sister Mab (One). Each postcard depicts trees that could never grow together in nature—oaks, firs, maples, pines, pear trees, and a eucalyptus—and carries a short message addressed to One. By the night before school starts, Monday has made 247 of these postcards, each tacked to the wall of the room the triplets share.
Monday is also marked by relentless curiosity about language. Her sister Mirabel describes her as someone who “never stops saying anything, everything, whatever’s niggling the inside of her head.” She asks why star shapes are pointy while sky stars are round, why “foil” means both a sword and a sheet, and how “round” can be the opposite of both “pointy” and “skinny.” This verbal playfulness, combined with her meticulous postcard-making, paints a portrait of a young woman who processes the world through pattern-finding and creative expression.
Plot Role
Monday’s role in the opening chapters is primarily observational and connective. Mab narrates the first chapter and sets up the essay prompt about memory and truth, but Monday’s chapter establishes crucial context about the family’s circumstances and the town of Bourne. Her postcard-making ritual introduces the reader to the family’s poverty (they cannot afford real postcards), their physical constraints (the triplets share a converted dining room because Mirabel cannot climb stairs), and the deep bond between the sisters.
The chapter also plants a seed for the novel’s larger plot: Mirabel’s sighting of a backhoe on Maple Avenue. Monday’s narration frames this as potentially momentous, suggesting that the static world of Bourne is about to change. Monday’s role is to observe and document the ordinary details of life that might otherwise go unnoticed, positioning her as a chronicler of the family’s inner world.
Motivations and Traits Shown Through Actions
Monday’s primary motivation is love for her sister Mab, expressed through the postcards. The text makes this explicit: on the back of each postcard she writes “Wish you were here,” and she notes that this is true. The postcards are a ritualized expression of affection that has continued for years.
Her actions reveal several distinct traits:
Meticulousness. Monday cuts a perfect four-by-six-inch rectangle from the cereal box, and she measures even though she can do it without measuring. This precision suggests a careful, deliberate nature.
Resourcefulness. She makes her own postcards because she cannot buy them. The text notes that if she ever went anywhere, she would buy postcards, but since she will never go anywhere, she makes them herself. This is creative resourcefulness under constraint—she transforms a cereal box into an object of beauty and meaning. This trait connects to the novel’s broader exploration of creative resourcefulness under constraint.
Self-awareness. Monday knows her postcards are not factual. She acknowledges that no real forest contains all the trees she draws, but she draws them anyway because the postcard is a constructed object, not a factual report. This connects directly to the novel’s theme of memory as constructed truth.
Playfulness with language. Her questions about words—why “foil” means both sword and sheet, why “round” is the opposite of both “pointy” and “skinny”—show a mind that delights in the quirks and contradictions of language. She also notes that P is one of the few letters that is also the name of a food, and that mules pulled carts before school buses existed.
Devotion. The postcards are made in secret, in the closet, in the twenty-seven to twenty-nine minutes before their mother comes home. This secrecy suggests they are a private gift, not something done for recognition. Monday slides the postcard under the door picture side up and trusts that Mab will know who it is for—and she is right.
Chronological Arc
The evidence shows Monday at a specific moment: the day before school starts, in the summer rain. But the postcards reveal a longer arc. With 247 postcards already on the wall, Monday has been making them for years. The text doesn’t specify when she started, but the accumulation suggests a sustained practice.
The chapter also reveals that the triplets are halfway through high school. Monday corrects Mab’s phrasing, noting that they have been halfway done all summer long—a characteristic precision about facts and language.
The backhoe sighting at the end of the chapter suggests that Monday’s arc is about to intersect with larger events. The novel’s epigraph from James Baldwin frames the story as one about change and possibility, suggesting that the world need not be accepted as it was when one arrived. Monday, who has been making postcards of impossible forests in a static world, may be about to encounter real change. This connects to the theme of change in a static world.
Relationships
With Mab (One). The postcards are the central artifact of this relationship. Monday makes them for Mab, addresses them to “One,” and trusts that Mab will know they are for her even though they are left faceup. The message “Wish you were here” is poignant because they are in the same room—the postcard is not about physical distance but about emotional presence, a way of saying “I am thinking of you” in a form that can be kept and displayed. Mab’s decision to tack each postcard to the wall shows that she values them.
With Mirabel (Three). Monday’s relationship with Mirabel is shown through the nightly conversations. Mirabel describes Monday as someone who never stops talking, and the two sisters share the shorthand of finger taps and triplet language. Monday’s verbal playfulness seems to be a counterpoint to Mirabel’s more measured communication through her tablet and Voice app. This dynamic connects to the novel’s exploration of communication beyond speech.
With their mother (Nora). Monday makes the postcards in the time before Nora comes home from work. The text doesn’t suggest that Nora knows about the postcards, which adds to their secret, intimate quality. The timing of her postcard-making—fitting it into the narrow window before dinner—suggests a household where time is scarce and privacy is precious.
Key Decisions and Consequences
Decision: To make postcards instead of buying them. This decision stems from constraint—Monday cannot go anywhere to buy postcards—but it becomes a creative practice. The consequence is a wall of 247 handmade artifacts that document her love for her sister over time.
Decision: To draw trees that cannot grow together. This is the most symbolically loaded decision. Monday knows the trees are impossible together, but she draws them anyway. The consequence is a postcard that is not real but still meaningful—a constructed image that expresses something true about the sisters’ relationship. The trees that cannot grow together are a metaphor for the triplets themselves: different, separate, but drawn together in a single image.
Decision: To write “Wish you were here.” This message is both conventional (it’s what postcards say) and deeply personal (it’s true). The decision to use this phrase connects Monday’s handmade postcards to the tradition of vacation postcards while subverting that tradition—she is not on vacation, and her sister is not far away.
Theme and Symbol Connections
Memory as constructed truth. Monday’s postcards are constructed objects that create their own truth. She says the postcard does not matter if it is true because it is not real—but the postcard is real, and it expresses something true. This parallels Mab’s memory of being in utero: not factually verifiable, but true to her experience. Both are constructions that carry emotional truth. See the memory as constructed truth theme page for more.
Interdependent identity. The triplets are one another’s before they are anyone else’s. Monday’s identity is inseparable from her sisters—she is “Two” because Mab is “One” and Mirabel is “Three.” The postcards are an expression of this interdependent identity: they are made by one sister for another, and they are displayed in the room all three share.
Communication beyond speech. While Monday can speak, the novel as a whole explores many forms of communication: Mirabel’s tablet and Voice app, the triplet shorthand of finger taps, and Monday’s postcards. The postcards are a form of communication that transcends speech—they are visual, tactile, and permanent.
Change in a static world. The backhoe is the most explicit symbol of change in the opening chapters. Bourne is a town where nothing ever gets built, so the backhoe is astonishing. Monday’s postcards, with their impossible forests, are also a kind of change—they create a world that does not exist, one tree at a time.
Creative resourcefulness under constraint. Monday cannot buy postcards, so she makes them. This is the novel’s central lesson about constraint: limitation breeds creativity. The cereal box becomes a canvas; the green pencils become a forest.
Five Book-Specific Questions
1. Why does Monday draw trees that cannot grow together?
Monday draws oaks, firs, maples, pines, pear trees, and a eucalyptus in a single image, knowing that no real forest contains all of these trees. She explains that the postcard is not real, so it does not matter if it is true. The impossible forest is a constructed image that expresses something true about connection—the trees would never naturally coexist, just as the triplets are different people who share an unbreakable bond.
2. What does the message “Wish you were here” mean when the sisters share a room?
The message is literally true in the sense that Monday wishes Mab were present—but they are in the same room. The postcard’s message is about emotional presence, not physical proximity. It is a way of saying “I am thinking of you” in a form that can be kept, displayed, and revisited. The postcard transforms an ordinary phrase into a deeply personal declaration.
3. How does Monday’s language play reveal her character?
Monday’s questions about words—why “foil” means both sword and sheet, why “round” is the opposite of both “pointy” and “skinny”—show a mind that is constantly analyzing and finding patterns. She is not satisfied with surface meanings. This curiosity extends to her observations about letters that are also food names and mules that pulled carts. Her language play is a form of intelligence often dismissed as silly, but Mirabel notes that the sisters’ ability to analyze the potential import of everything is the opposite of silly.
4. Why does Monday make the postcards in secret?
Monday retreats to the upstairs hall closet for twenty-seven to twenty-nine minutes, fitting her postcard-making into the narrow window before her mother comes home. The secrecy suggests that the postcards are a private gift, not something done for recognition. She slides the postcard under the door picture side up and trusts that Mab will know who it is for. The secrecy also makes the postcards more precious—they are a ritual, not a chore.
5. What does the backhoe sighting mean for Monday’s story?
Mirabel sees a backhoe on Maple Avenue, an astonishing sight in a town where nothing ever gets built. Monday’s narration frames this as potentially momentous. The backhoe suggests that Bourne is about to change, connecting to the novel’s epigraph from James Baldwin about the world being open before us. For Monday, who has been making postcards of impossible forests in a static world, the backhoe may signal the beginning of real change. For more on how this plays out, see the ending explained page and the questions and answers section.