Looks like my stepdaughter finally got rid of me.
For informational purposes only | Source: Pexels
For informational purposes only | Source: Pexels
***
I sat there for 30 minutes. Maybe longer. I can't believe this damn sticker.
“Good,” I muttered. Then I remembered Bonnie.
She lived right across the street, and if anyone could handle a disaster like Delia's with ease, it was my Bonnie. We met in 1986, when I was still driving a Chevrolet that broke down every other day.
For informational purposes only | Source: Pexels
For informational purposes only | Source: Pexels
Bonnie gave me some jumper cables and told me my ex-husband looked like a baked potato in khakis. Our friendship has continued to flourish ever since.
The door creaked open. There she was, her hair curled, her dress hanging off her shoulder, her cat draped over her hip like a cowboy's halter.
For informational purposes only | Source: Pexels
For informational purposes only | Source: Pexels
"Well, I'm surprised. I thought you were halfway to Shady Pines."
" What ? "
"Delia said you were moving to one of those retirement communities. She said it was your idea. A gift from Tom. Finally some time for yourself." She narrowed her eyes. "Wait... it was your idea, right?"
For informational purposes only | Source: Pexels
For informational purposes only | Source: Pexels
I didn't say anything. I went in, put my bags down next to her chair, and set the cake on the kitchen counter. Bonnie followed me, barefoot and cautious.
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