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They’ll kill us all.
She marched defiantly across the room, stopping short of Lisa’s face. “Go ahead,” she glowered. “You can’t watch me twenty-four seven and Italy’s an awful big place. You’ll never lay eyes on me again.”
Lisa gasped, eyes wide with a hand to her mouth. She spun in a flurry of devastating sobs and took a hasty exit.
Donja kicked the door
Damn you, Torin…damn you!
Sweet Surrender
After a long soak in the bear claw tub, deep in thought with tears forming splash circles on the surface of the bathwater, Donja emerged from the liquid misery, dried her hair and sat down to do her makeup. She tilted her head back and with a Visine bottle in hand, squeezed droplets into both eyes, hoping to vanquish what looked like a red roadmap.
Makayla, who was busy moving her things upstairs to the new bedroom, paused at the door. “Would you like me to move your things upstairs to your room while you’re out?”
Donja spoke without looking. “No, I’m not moving up there, my grandmother’s coming to visit, she can have my new room.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Donja frowned, “I won’t need it, I’ll be leaving here soon.”
“But our new bath has a nice tiled shower with glass doors, a makeup counter and the lighting’s superb. Just think about it. If you move, there won’t be any more baths in ‘ghost lady’s,’ stinky bathtub.”
Donja spun to face her. “Good point but we’ll have to share your room. I don’t want my grandma down here.”
Makayla exhaled. “Sounds wonderful and to be honest, it’s a relief. I was dreading losing my Prozac. It’s been so wonderful having you in my life…I…I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Ditto,” Donja smiled wearily. “Now, I need a favor.”
“Sure, anything.”
“Try and cheer my mom up. She’s in a bad place right now and it’s killing me.”
“Sure thing.”
Donja finished up her makeup, Makayla making endless trips with arms stuffed in and out of the bedroom. She got dressed, then hearing a car door through the open window, leaned into the lighted mirror. Her bloodshot eyes looked almost normal. She applied lip gloss and stood up. Hearing Makayla bounding down the stairs, she smoothed her hair.
Makayla, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt with her hair in pigtails, came through the door and stopped. “Sister,” she sputtered with wide eyes that sparkled magically. “You—look—hot! I love that Gothic, Balmain look.”
A clasp of thunder rattled the windows. “Sounds like it might rain,” she said, glancing at her rounded butt in the mirror. She tugged at the hem. “It’s a little short.”
“No, it’s perfect. He’s gonna cream his jeans when he sees you.”
The sound of rolling thunder transformed to a stentorian boom that shook the entire house. Donja glanced to the window. “I’d like to cream him all right,” she mumbled as she hurried across the room with her black, thigh-high spiked boots tapping rhythmically. She paused at the window and glanced back. “Is it possible to love and hate someone at the same time?”
“I’m not sure,” Makayla answered whimsically with a slight smile that curled upon her face, “but I feel the same way about chocolate.”
Donja found a smile that faded as fast as it came. “Seriously, do you think it’s possible?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Neither am I,” Donja said tucking her hair, “but it might be happening.” Noticing that the sun had disappeared, she leaned into the window, her curves accentuated by the shimmering flow of her skimpy black mini. “Wow, it’s getting so dark. It is going to rain.”
“Umm hmm, Lake Superior’s pissed and there’s storm warnings all over the radio. You’d best take a coat; the winds can get pretty nasty and temps have already dropped to the lower fifties.”
“I can feel it,” Donja said, hugging her chest as winds whipped the curtains. “Is that common here? My God it was eighty degrees a few hours ago.”
“That’s the Upper Peninsula for you,” Makayla smiled, “if you don’t like the weather, wait twenty minutes, it’s bound to change.”