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* * *
Three days later, Susan rang Dakota’s doorbell again and waited. It was the third try, and Dakota still had not answered. Since her blowup with Logan, she had steered clear of everyone, which was really starting to worry Susan.
“I think it’s time to use your key,” Norma Jean said from behind her.
“I’d hate to use it if she’s home.”
“Well, one thing’s for sure, she’s not planning to let us in, so we’re letting ourselves in. Now do you want to do the honors, or shall I?”
Using her key, Susan opened Dakota’s door.
“Dakota? We’re coming in, don’t shoot. It’s Susan and Ms. Jeannie.”
They walked in and shut the door behind them. It was dark, so Susan turned on the light in the hall. She looked at the glass bowl on the table.
“Her keys are here. That’s a good sign.”
“An actual person would be, too,” Norma Jean replied.
They walked into the living room, and then into the kitchen.
“Good Lord, it looks like a food bomb went off in here…a week ago.”
They were about to search for Dakota when she came into the room singing at the top of her lungs. “When love runs out and the pain walks in, and settles for a stay—”
When she saw Susan and Norma Jean standing there staring at her, she screamed. Her hands flew out in front of her to ward off an attack.
“What are you both doing here?” she gasped.
They glanced at Dakota’s disheveled appearance, hair flying and the hair brush that she was using for a microphone, now a weapon.
“We’re worried about you,” Norma Jean told her. “What’s your excuse, and why are you singing Bobby Womack songs?”
“Dakota, you haven’t been to work in a few days.”
“I’ve been…under the weather,” she replied. She went into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of Cheetos from the pantry.
“It’s your company, you can work from Siberia if you want to,” Susan pointed out, “but we’re worried about you.”
She went back to her bedroom. “I’m fine,” she said around what sounded like a mouthful of the cheesy snacks.
They followed her to the doorway. Seconds later, another sound piped over the speakers in Dakota’s room. She listened to the first few verses and then broke down into tears as she sang along. “And how can you mend a broken heart? How can you stop the rain from falling down?”
“Dakota, maybe you should let the Bee Gees take over from here,” Susan said gently. “Ms. Jeannie?”
“What?” Norma Jean went over and sat down at the edge of Dakota’s bed. Mostly because that was the only space that didn’t have dishes, food or newspapers on it.
“Look, you’ve got to get yourself together, Dakota. Being depressed is not going to fix your relationship. Only you can do that,” Norma Jean said gently.
“There’s nothing to fix,” she said. “He doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
“Well, if I saw you with your hair flying, wearing raggedy sweatpants, smelling like old corn chips and looking like you’ve been set outside with the recycling, I’d steer clear, too.”
Susan looked toward the ceiling.
“Look, there’s no use sugarcoating anything. That’s not going to help her. Now listen to me, Dakota. You’re depressed. We all get it, but that’s not getting you better, and that’s certainly not going to bring your man back.”
“Haven’t you heard? He’s not coming back.” Dakota blew her nose in a tissue before lobbing it onto a pile next to her bed. “Besides, why would I want him anyway? He’s a lying, spineless sack of…”
“We get it. He didn’t fight for you.” Norma Jean got up and cut the music off. She went over and opened the blinds. When she turned around, she put her hands on her hips. “But neither did you. You didn’t barge into that bedroom and lay down the law any more than he conquered his fears of failure.”
Dakota snorted. “Well, we’ll never know now, he’s given up again.”
“Then I tell you what—you want him, you go get him. Both of you need to stop keeping score, and get on the same page. You start by showing him what he’s missing. But first you need to get showered, fix yourself up, sign up for a few therapy sessions and eat a hot meal. Not necessarily in that order.” She walked over and took the
jalapeño-flavored Cheetos bag out of Dakota’s hand. “Now let’s get moving, honey, daylight’s burning.”
* * *
“You need a new attitude, must put the demons of the past to rest, and no more junk-food binges. It’s time to get back on the mat, honey.”
