Page 55 of The Promise in Poppies
DONNA
“Are you sure about this?” Donna asked from behind the brocade curtain.
“Positive,” Penny assured her. “I knew the moment I found that dress at an estate sale that it was meant for you.”
“Come out so we can see it.” Cassie’s voice rang with excited anticipation.
Donna sighed and stepped out of the dressing room at Thistle & Thorn and was met with enthralled gasps from Cassie, Penny, and Kat. All three women sat side by side on a plum-colored chaise lounge, gazing at her with the dreamy-eyed delight of bridesmaids saying yes to the dress. Except, Donna wasn’t modeling a wedding gown. Although, she realized with startling surprise, the idea wasn’t wholly unappealing. She’d donned the 1950s swing-inspired dress for her date with Rhett at tonight’s end-of-the-festival dance.
“Are you sure it’s not too much?” She smoothed the fitted sweetheart bodice that cinched at her waist before flaring into a full skirt that fell just above her knees.
“It’s perfect.” Penny sprang from the couch to finish buttoning the back of the dress. “This sage green color makes the combination of your light eyes and dark hair pop. And since tonight is more of a barn dance aesthetic, we’ll tone it down with simple hair and makeup and these.” She held up a pair of cream, ankle-high cowboy boots with subtle floral embroidery. “What do you think?”
“They’re beautiful.” Donna caressed the buttery-soft leather before she slipped them on.
“I think Rhett’s going to be the luckiest guy at the dance,” Kat told her with a bright, sincere smile.
“You look stunning, Mom.” Cassie pressed a hand over her heart, beaming like a mother admiring her daughter all dressed up for her first date.
Donna smiled at the sweet irony. The sharp trill of her cell phone disrupted the winsome mood, and she ducked back inside the dressing room to check the caller ID.
Her happiness soared as she read the name on the screen. Stephanie was checking in of her own accord, without Donna having to leave several messages first. If her luck continued, Steph would be calling to say she finally agreed to come visit. “Hi!” she chirped, twirling in the mirror as she spoke. “How are you?”
“Fa-fan-tab-u-lous,” Stephanie slurred into the speaker. “Ne-ev-er better.”
Donna’s heart froze as icy fear careened through her. “Are you drunk?”
“To-tally tanked.”
“What happened?” She tried to keep her voice steady despite the panic gripping her throat.
“I just wan-ted one drink, ya know? I—I thought I could han-dle it.” Stephanie’s words came in a garbled, staccato rhythm, each stuttered syllable like a stab to the heart.
If she’d been there… if she’d never left… this wouldn’t have happened. “Where are you?”
“At a fr-friend’s h-house.”
“Where? What’s the address? I’m coming to get you.”
When Stephanie didn’t respond, Donna pressed the phone harder to her ear, as if somehow that would force sound to fill the silence. “Steph,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “Tell me where you are.”
“I—I don’t know. But I’m f-fine. D-don’t you worry about me, ’kay? I’ll call you l-later.”
The deafening click ending the call reverberated in her eardrums, and Donna slumped to the floor. As the adrenaline fled her body, it gave way to an uncontrollable sob. Guilt and gut-wrenching sadness overcame all other senses, and she curled into herself, hugging her knees to her chest as she wept.
“What happened?” Cassie cried with shocked concern as she dropped to the ground beside her.
Donna heard movement in the dressing room, as if Kat and Penny had crowded into the small space around them. Unable to stop the wave of sobs, she managed to expel only a single word—Stephanie—but Cassie seemed to understand exactly what it meant.
“Oh, Mom. I’m so sorry.” Cassie slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “What can I do to help?”
The same question had tumbled through her own mind, over and over like pummeling fists against her temples. Stephanie must subconsciously want help, or else why had she called? But without knowing where to find her, what could she do? Hopelessness consumed her, dragging her into the darkest corners of herself. “I need a meeting.” The whispered statement sounded more like a desperate plea—one that didn’t seem possible.
But within an hour, she found herself in the town hall, seated in a circle of folding chairs, still wearing the pale green dress. Rhett, Irene, Mac, and even Frida faced her, all clothed and coiffed for tonight’s dance.
Donna gazed at each one in turn, her red, swollen eyes dry of tears. They all had somewhere else to be, and yet, they’d chosen to sit here, content in the stillness, simply because she needed them. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to express the depths of her gratitude, but shouldn’t she say something? The silence couldn’t go on forever, but words escaped her.
“I’m Frida Connelly. And I’m an addict.” Frida’s placid confession startled everyone in the room, and Donna gaped at her in disbelief.
