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“Get it if you need to.”
“No, it’s okay,” Makayla said. “I’m sure it’s Heather. She’s pretty upset and I really think it best if I stay out of it.”
“Hmm, you sure?”
Makayla flashed her baby blues. “Her parents sold her Porsche this morning and she’s not happy.”
“Why would they do that?”
“No choice,” Makayla shrugged. “They’re moving back to London and they’ve enrolled her in a prep school.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.”
“Yeah, we’ve been friends since ninth grade.”
“Believe me, I understand. I’m gonna miss my friends.”
“I bet. It must be tough to move so far away.”
Donja was amazed that she sounded sincere. “Yeah, it is.”
Makayla’s phone, which had a ring tone of ‘Sign of the Times,’ by Harry Styles, went off again.
“Why don’t you get it?” Donja said. “I can finish up.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I don’t know Heather, but if she’s feeling what I’ve been feeling, I feel bad for her.”
Makayla dried her hands on the dishtowel and took the call, leaning against the countertop.
“Yeah, sorry,” she said with the phone to her ear, “I was helping Donja with the dishes.”
“Don’t be crude, I can do dishes and anyway, it’s actually going well.”
Donja listened, she couldn’t help but hear, she was right next to her.
“No, not as bad as I thought it would be,” Makayla said with a stealthy look which Donja didn’t fail to notice.
“Just let it go, Heather. Sometimes we just have to go with the flow.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Makayla questioned with a concerned glare.
Silence.
“No, I can’t, not tonight, I need to unpack, but tomorrow night would be good.”
Donja noticed Makayla roll her eyes, listening to whatever Heather was spewing. “Well don’t drink too much and get Becky to go with you.”
Silence.
Donja pulled the plunger and the sink made a sucking noise as the water disappeared. She dried her hands and noticed her fingers were wrinkled like a prune.
“No worries, just give me a call tomorrow after the reunion.” Makayla whispered.
Silence.
“You too,” Makayla said as she ended the call.
