She pauses with her hand on the door handle, and then she’s turning around, her dyed bleach blonde hair swishing with the movement. I hold her stare, not backing down, when in reality, my body is hammering wildly within.
I want to kill her for what she is doing to all of us, and I hatethat I could have avoided this if I hadn’t been a chicken shit and told Arrie before her mother found out.
“Twelve hours, Dorothy, and then your world will implode. Don’t test me.”
With that she opens the door and slams it behind her.
I come back to the present, tears streaming down my face as my finger hovers over my mum’s number. I may have avoided Aunt Kerry’s wrath to an extent, reminding her of what I caught her doing to Arrie when she was a kid, but that doesn’t mean I got off Scott free.
I told her I would adhere to one of her requests and leave, but I wouldn’t do what she wanted me to do when it came to Damon. I was playing Russian roulette, I’m just lucky she didn’t try me on it, and tell Shane anyway.
I think of my dear cousin and best-friend, wondering if she remembers anything from her childhood, but if she does, we don’t speak of it. Never have. Arrie is a closed book, and I decided long ago that I would let sleeping dogs lie, unless she wanted to wake the fuckers up.
Poignancy threads its sickly web through my stomach, making me feel like I need to vomit. Swallowing it down, I recall what I told Kerry-Anne I would do if she went after Damon or myself - what I would do to her.
The angry and hateful words that spewed from her mouth, solidified what I already knew.
She told Arrie.
It was always her end game.
She hated how close we always were growing up, even more so as we got older, and a part of me wonders if it was jealousy because she wasn’t close to my mother, her own damn sister.
Shaking out of my thoughts, I press the call button.
Two rings and my dad answers. Fuck.
“Hello?”
“Hey, dad, how are you?”
“Hey, baby girl. I’m doing as well as can be expected. But I guess you want to talk to your mother?”
“Yes, please, dad. I’ll chat with you later, ok?”
He grunts his acknowledgement, and I’m thankful he didn’t notice the hitch in my tone, or the sadness tinging it.
“Mani! Dottie is on the phone.”
“Coming!” my mum yells, and I smile.
There’s a rustle and then she speaks.
“Hey, Dottie Girl.”
“Hey, ma. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
“Aw thanks, sweetheart. What are you up to?”
“I’m just driving, so I can’t talk long.”
“Are you alright, bub?” she asks, and I swallow the sob pushing up my throat.
“Yeah, I’m ok, mum. Just a rough night is all.”
“Are you sure?”
“Promise,” I lie. “But I need to go so I can concentrate on the road.”