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“Well I don’t give a damn what you’re in, Mr. Mancini, but if you think you’re going out on a date with my underage daughter, you’ve got another thing coming!”
“Mom!” Donja shrieked. “Would you stop, you’re being rude!”
“That’s my job,” Lisa glowered, “I’m your mother.”
Donja tightened her lip, striding across the antique rug into the foyer. “Mom,” she called out, “would you please come and help me find a vase for the flowers.”
Lisa followed and Donja took a deep breath, dreading the showdown. The minute they got to the kitchen, Donja grabbed a vase then spun on her heels. “Mom, you need to stop.”
“I will not, you’re a child.”
“Look at me. I’m not a child. Now don’t make me fight you because I will.” Donja glowered, watching the blood drain from her mom’s face.
“What did you say?” Lisa raised her voice.
“Don’t make me fight you. I have feelings for him and for the record, I don’t care if he’s fifty.”
Lisa’s gaze hardened as she raised a tremulous hand to her brow. “I won’t stand back and watch some foreign Romeo ruin your life. There’s a name for men like him, men who prey on young girls. Now I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but it’s me,” she said with a hand to her chest, “your mother, and believe me, little girl, it’s not gonna happen.”
Donja, who in her spiked heels, stood eye to eye with her mom felt empowered. She stepped forward and they faced off. “Would that be ruining my life like my father ruined yours?” she asked sarcastically. “I know the truth,” she scoffed, suddenly less confident as she turned and made her way to the sink. She stuffed the flowers into the vase, her heart pounding. She fired a cursory glance. “I looked at your marriage certificate which occurred five months before I was born. You were seventeen and my dad was twenty-three, so don’t give me your holier than thou attitude.”
Lisa slapped her. “How dare you!”
“How dare us both,” Donja said holding her cheek. “I want this man.”
Lisa’s mouth dropped.
“Don’t mess this up for me,” Donja warned with more authority than any seventeen-year-old should possess.
Lisa grasped the island for support, swooning.
“Please,” Donja said, filling the vase with water, all the while hoping her tremors had gone unnoticed, “just trust me.”
“Everything okay in here?” Carson said as he gripped the door jamb, leaning toward them with a look of concern.
Lisa spun to Carson. “Do you allow Makayla to date that older man?”
Carson just stared. “He’s twenty-four and it bothers me but there’s more to it than you know.”
“Really, what is there to know Carson? She’s seventeen.”
“I’ll explain it all later, but I allow it because he’s saved Makayla’s life.”
Donja moved to Lisa who was stolid and kissed her cheek. “I have my phone in case you need to reach me.”
Lisa gripped the island. “Donja, I forbid this!”
Donja hesitated briefly. “Do you have no trust in me at all?”
Lisa met her gaze.
“I’m going to dinner with another couple. I could have done this behind your back, but I didn’t because I respect you…I love you. Can’t you just trust me?”
Lisa didn’t answer, but her lips were quivering.
Donja, with her heart painfully thumping her chest headed for the door. At the jamb, she paused. “We’re going to leave now. I love you,” she called out.
Lisa didn’t turn, she stood there, gripping the island.
