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“You were busy looking at the wedding album, just some clothes, nothing unusual.”
“Well,” Donja said, checking the time on her phone, “it’s getting late and I better get my bath and start getting ready. I’m not too up on this glam-meets-goth makeup. You may have to help me the first couple of times till I get the hang of it.”
“No problem, you’ll have to help me with the teardrop as well.”
“You don’t have to be gothiglam if you don’t want to,” Donja muttered.
“Hey, I kinda like it, it’s unique, it’s us…sisters to the end,” she laughed. Suddenly her demeanor shifted. “I just hope Heather’s home. I better text that girl and see what’s up.”
~~~
Dressed to kill in a tight black mini skirt with a white, long-sleeve silk blouse, her birthday diamond earrings, a diamond tear drop necklace borrowed from Makayla, and black, six-inch ankle strap pumps, Donja slid behind the wheel of her navy blue mustang and fired her up. Makayla, dressed in a one-piece red mini with matching pumps and her blonde locks shimmering eased into the passenger seat, diamond studded loops dangling from her ears. Steering away from the manor, headed out the cobblestone drive, Donja heard her phone go off in her purse.
“Get that,” she mumbled, eyes on the road. “It might be Debbie. She went with Diana, Holly and Trisha to Chicago for a Rihanna concert. I’m so jealous.”
“Rihanna? Girl, I’m beyond jealous,” Makayla simpered as she fumbled in Donja’s purse. “I think she’s got a concert at the ‘Bell Centre’ in Montreal next month. We’ll have to go,” she mumbled as she pulled out the purple android and fixed her eyes on the screen. “It’s a call from someone named Kevin from a 269 area code.”
Donja gripped the steering wheel tightly with her ring tone, ‘Echoes’ resounding. She glanced and met Makayla’s questioning eyes all the while searching for rhyme or reason when none existed.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Makayla asked reinforcing the fact that indeed it was Kevin, the one Donja thought she would love forever, the one who betrayed her, the very one who broke her heart.
“Block his calls,” Donja blurted abruptly.
“Are you sure?”
Donja felt the blood drain from her face as visions of Brandy’s belly swelling with child forced a shudder.
“Yes,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster, though part of her wanted to slam on the brake, grab the phone and succumb to his voice, fall for his lies, get used…get hurt all over again, anything to have him back, feel what she used to feel. She took a deep breath, with the phone still ringing as another part of her screamed a thousand no’s!”
“Last chance,” Makayla said. “I can see the fight in your eyes and you’re trembling. Are you sure you’re over him?”
“Big time,” Donja snapped, “it’s a little too late.”
Shocked, Donja watched as Makayla took the call and raised the phone to her ear. “Hi Kevin, this is Donja’s sister. Go fuck yourself!” She lowered the phone, fingers sliding over the screen. “Blocked,” Makayla beamed, lip gloss shimmering on her painted lips. She put the android back in Donja’s black clutch, then turned up the CD.
At a loss for words, Donja focused on the road. Finally, she said, “Wow this pony drives like a dream.” She masked her feelings as best she could all the while fighting an internal battle to kill what was left of a heart that could still care for a no-good scoundrel which sadly still had the power to get to her. She gripped the wheel and surprisingly, the pain was ebbing, so different than before. “I love my stepfather.” She cried out, tension masked, pain taking a back seat as the music of Lacrimosa as well the magic of this new life, one she never imagined, took center stage.
“Call him Dad and he’ll be eating out your hand,” Makayla smiled. “He really likes you and though I was jealous of Frankie in the beginning, I can see now that fate once more stepped in to render a hand. The two of them are like two peas in a pod, father and son right down to skinning those slimy fish they catch from the river.”
“Father and son,” Donja mumbled, her words lost in the music. She gripped the steering column tighter, expecting a backlash of pain which never came. She cocked her head.
“I can’t call him Dad just yet, I need time, but I’m getting there, I really am. I just need to find that comfort zone not only for me, but him. The last thing I want is to make him uncomfortable.”
“He wouldn’t be, he’d be honored.”
“That’s good.” Donja paused, her thoughts racing. “And how are you and my mom getting on, you never mention her.”
Makayla glanced out the window. “It’s been tough.”
“Sorry, but if it helps she thinks highly of you.”
“And I do her as well, believe me it’s no fault of hers, it’s just this god-awful insanity that I can’t let go of.”
“Take your time.”
“Yeah, time heals all wounds. Right?”
“So they say.”