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She met his gaze. “How long to heal?”
“Barring complications, around forty-eight hours. Then you can resume your regular activities.”
Anna closed her eyes as they wheeled her into the operating room, Donja’s smile playing in her mind. Two hours later, after her nip and tuck, Anna had the IV removed, her vital signs normal. She was then taken by wheelchair out front to a waiting cab.
Back in downtown Chicago, she checked into a hotel and spent the evening alone, deep in thought. Sleep came at a great expense, tormented by nightmares stronger and more horrific than she remembered.
Then next day, with the signature windy city missing its blustery quality, she spent a half day at Fredrick’s of Hollywood, assisted by two clerks, Theresa and Donita, who brought her up to date on the latest fashions. She bought minis and skin-tight skirts, sheer blouses and lingerie. She eyed the growing stack atop the counter, not her style, yet now they were essential. Two boutiques later, with boxes of stiletto heels, jewelry, perfumes and a black leather shoulder bag, she hailed a cab to the train station. Exhausted, she settled in and flipped out her cell. She texted Lisa.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m coming for a visit.”
“Wonderful!” Lisa texted back. “Frankie and Donja will be thrilled. What’s your flight info?”
Anna texted back. “Flight from Grand Rapids on Wednesday, arriving at 6:55 PM.”
“Wonderful, just two more days. Carson will pick you up. Till then, we love you.”
“You too,” Anna texted back, tears welling in her eyes. She closed the phone and stared out the window as the train whizzed over the border from the Land of Lincoln to the Great Lake state. She blinked, dark lashes framing misty eyes and straight ahead locked her gaze on a huge billboard.
‘WELCOME to PURE MICHIGAN’
“Michigamaa,” she whispered in her native tongue, the word meaning ‘large water,’ resounding. She shuddered, her fist tightly bound, eyes to the window. “Pure Michigan,” she sobbed.
I may never see this place again.
Arriving at the Silver Beach train station in St. Joe, Anna called Mary Harris a friend of twenty-five years. Mary picked her up and agreed to drop by with her to see her daughter Leigh, before taking her to spend one last night in her home of thirty-two years. Arriving at her daughter’s last known address, Anna discovered that her only living child had fled the state with a truck driver two days prior to this visit. She left a hand-written note for her wayward daughter.
Leigh,
I’m leaving Benton Harbor. Lisa and the kids are gone and that leaves only you, the last of my blood. I had hoped to see you, get on my knees and beg forgiveness for the permanent damage I’ve caused you, but as fate would have it, it was not to be. Hear me. In hindsight, if I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t have warned you of the evils I feared would take you. I only wanted to protect you from them and I truly feared they would find you, find us both. I robbed you of your childhood, living in fear of every shadow and my dearest daughter, you coped the only way you knew how, alcoholism, one man to another, miscarriage after heart breaking miscarriage, which I know you induced, fearful of bringing another female into this world to face the same. I’m sorry, truly. In parting, I may never return and just remember that I love you, but more importantly, I pray you can somehow get past this disease that plagues your life and learn to love yourself.
Goodbye and God bless you daughter,
Mom
After a frightful night, tossing and turning, Anna had coffee, got dressed and set her tote by the front door. She turned and took one last look around her home. The movers would pack her things and store them safe and sound, but they would never remove the memories. She picked up her wedding picture from so long ago. She closed her eyes, her mother’s voice resounding.
“Just be nice to your cousin Ardrey, give yourself to him and he’ll take care of you, my child. You won’t ever be hungry or face Iridescents again.”
“You were right mother,” she mumbled, “I never was hungry again, but there are some things just as painful. I was so scared, and Ardrey was not a gentle man.
You should have warned me, I didn’t know what to expect. I was just a kid, barely thirteen.” She flinched as the cab driver, waiting in her driveway, blasted his horn. She grabbed her purse and tote with a final glance about the room.
“Goodbye.”
Midewiwin
Half awake, yet unwilling to relinquish the peaceful warmth of her bed, Donja snuggled beneath the covers. Torin occupied her mind, and with his eyes dancing and his lips taunting her, she hugged the pillow tighter. Without warning, a barrage of hammers followed by the buzz of a skill-saw directly over her bedroom ceiling, forced her to sit up. She rubbed her eyes, and after a moment she noticed Makayla sitting on the floor with her back to the door, eyes locked on her cell phone. “What are you doing?” Donja asked, “guarding the door?”
Makayla raised her head and from across the room, they shared a look. “I heard the workers, but I wasn’t sure if it was them or the Council.”
“Would you get over it, you’re not in trouble.”
“I’m not so sure of that.”
“It’s the truth. Torin seems happy for you and Gage.” She stretched her arms and it was then that she remembered that Gage had propositioned the Council to make Makayla his consort and she wanted to tell her, it was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t. That needed to be Gage, on one knee, begging for a yes with Makayla screaming. She couldn’t rob her of that.
“Happy.” Makayla whined, dragging her to reality, “you could have fooled me because when you guys left in his Ferrari, things were pretty intense between the two of you. I was a nervous wreck the entire night and you, sister—didn’t say two words when we met up for our midnight dinner. I tried like hell to read your face, but you were totally preoccupied.”
