The snowflakes were coming straight at her windshield in a pattern that seemed star-like. If you stared at it long enough it appeared like an enchanting mirage: a tree trunk, a pine tree, looking up from the bottom from underneath, where the long, icy needles were surging out at you with every inch you drove along. She had always thought the view while driving in a snowstorm was something to be relished. It was beautiful, in a way. Although the splendor you beheld was at the cost of a hazard that should be avoided, if possible.
It seemed foreign to have a raging snow storm this late in April. But that’s what happens when you live so far north. Etta knew she needed to take it easy, relaxed and slow, driving home. When the roads could either be icy or slushy it was dangerous. The slush could so easily pull you off the side of the road. It just sort of sucked you in. But she was feeling far from peaceful, and it was nearly impossible to calm herself. Her breathing was a little shallow. Her heart was pounding. She’d at least had the good sense to shut off the radio so she could truly concentrate on what she was doing. It was far from “white knuckle” driving, but it wasn’t a relaxing 20 minute drive either. The drive wasn’t what was troubled her. It was the direction the evening had taken that had her tense and disturbed.
She passed the corner, glancing towards the middle of the street to the house where she was living. She saw there was a faint light emanating from the large picture window in the living room, a glow flickering in the night. Someone was up and still watching TV on this snowy Saturday night. She had hoped all of her roommates would be out with their own busy social calendars. Gabby, the youngest of the three Donato sisters was more of a homebody, a little too shy to be off at a frat party or something else on a spring evening in a late-winter storm. She’d probably stayed in tonight. Now she’d have to try to avoid her.
She’d left Izzy and Sophia, behind at the country club reception she had abruptly exited, where she had been serving as a waitress. Tommy would bring them home when everything was cleaned up at the end of the night, she was sure. She had just left. Sprinted was more like it. Dropped everything and gotten in the car and left. She just had to get some time alone. Time and space. Time to breathe and think. Why did things always have to go wrong?
As she pulled into her parking space just to the side of the house, she set the car into park and shut off the engine. Etta hunched forward with her head on her knuckles, resting on the steering wheel, with a heavy, exasperated sigh. Why did everything have to be so hard? Why did things always have to change? Couldn’t anyone just leave well enough alone and be happy with the way things are? This was just stupid. It was cold out. The car would be buried by morning. And her warm, cozy bed is mere feet away. She hurled herself up and out of the car, slamming her door, as the snow fell from the tree limbs above her at the shock of the sound.
She walked up the narrow sidewalk leading to the backdoor which was their kitchen entrance. The walkways were already covered with almost two inches of the thick, heavy spring slushy snow which was deceivingly slippery. It wasn’t supposed to let up until morning. There would be eight to ten inches by then, at least. At one point she lost traction in the little walk up to the house, but she’d righted herself as she carefully climbed the two steps to their overhang porch. She opened the screen door, inserted her key into the deadbolt and then the secondary lock on their home and pushed the screechy door open.
The air had a faint smell of butter. Yup, butter and popcorn. God that smelled good. Maybe she would nuke some before she headed up. She’d had hardly anything to eat either before or during the reception tonight. She closed the door behind her and hung her dark blue wool pea jacket on a hook behind the door, after stuffing her scarf into one of her sleeves. She slung her keys into the bowl on the counter and grabbed the envelopes from the mail slot which had “Etta” emblazoned on it, hanging near the rear door. “Hey, who’s home?” Gabby called out from the living room, as she’d clearly heard the keys jangle in the bowl. “Just me.”
A quick glance around the kitchen showed things neat and tidy. Dishes sitting upside down, draining in one sink. Gabby must’ve been busy and cleaned up. The stovetop looks pristine. Hmmmm… she didn’t know it could get that clean. How did she do that? She must’ve had her inner clean-freak come out tonight. She’s such a nice kid. And she’d promised to help Gabby clean-up when she got home, she remembered. She beat me to it, again.
Etta glanced down at the pile of mail in her hand. Car payment, a check from dad. Something about her college loan. Okay. Yeah, whatever. Junk. Junk. A letter from Peggy. Good, at least something was looking up today. She snapped the envelopes against her hand. She could deal with these later. Grabbing an apple from a bowl on the table, she quickly walked through the dining room, hoping to hit the stairs in a quick stride and make it past Gabby without a long, drawn-out conversation.
Just as her foot met the first riser, Gabby called out, partially dumping a handful of popcorn from the large bowl she held in her lap, as she sat up on the hand-me-down couch the girls had all picked up at the Salvation Army thrift store after they’d moved in last fall. “Hey, what gives? Where is everybody? I thought you all were working a wedding tonight. No way a wedding is over by 10:15.”
“I’m not feeling so hot. I left early. Izzy and Soph will grab a ride and be back when it’s over. They were just cutting the cake when I left. It’ll be a while yet.”
“You okay now?”
“Yeah, just wanna go lay down.” Please just let it go, Gabby.
“Oh hey, your dad called just after you guys left. Nothing urgent, I guess, but he wanted you to call as soon as you got a chance. He sounded kind of edgy, so call him, okay? I told him you’d be getting back late tonight, so tomorrow’s probably okay.”
“Thanks, Gabs, I’ll call him back first thing. It’s too late tonight. G’nite.” Etta hoped that this would be the end of it.
Pulling herself up the back of the couch, Gabby peered over the top towards the stairway. “Hey, you sure you’re okay? My ditzy brother didn’t do anything stupid like dump you or anything, did he? He’s such a doorknob, I wouldn’t be surprised. Tommy’d be a fool, but he’s just stupid enough to ….”
“No, nothing like that. Things are fine. Just tired. Talk to ya later, k?” With that, Etta climbed the stairs hurriedly, opened the door to her room, went in and leaned back against the door when she’d closed it, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. Or at least things will be just fine once she calmed down.
She opened her eyes, turned on the small lamp on her desk near the door and looked over her quilt-covered double bed pushed against the wall of the small room, with bright fuchsia-colored walls (the color they’d been when they moved in) and white corner-block molding that had clearly been painted umpteen times. Her cozy bed looked so inviting. She walked over, sat down and leaned back, smacking her mail on the quilt top, crossing the hand holding her apple across her closed eyes. What had happened tonight? What is he thinking? What does he expect of me? I can’t make that kind of a commitment right now.
Her mind raced back to snapshots of the conversation/argument with Tommy earlier that evening at the reception. They’d been working together, only part-time, herself and Tommy and his sisters at the Italian restaurant attached to the country club just outside of Marquette for the past three or four months: Izzy, as a hostess, Sophia and herself as waitresses and Tommy as a line cook/sous chef. They were part of the overall crew of 20 or so. The Donatos were so capable, knew every inch of a restaurant and how to serve people well, that it seemed like they were “in charge” even when they weren’t necessarily. It’s what you’d expect from kids from a family with a string of Italian restaurants. It was in their blood. Cut them and they’d bleed marinara.
Tonight had been a great opportunity for them to make a little extra cash working a wedding reception, which was kind of hard work – lots of walking, expectations for perfection, catering to every whim, etc. – but a guaranteed fifteen percent tip at the end of the night, which, of course, she’d blown by bolting early. Damn.
And things had been going fine. Things between her and Tommy had been going fine, for months. They’d started out hot and heavy and had fallen into a relaxed routine with each other. At least she thought things had been fine. God only knows what he’d had on his mind. They’d gotten through the appetizer service fine and the hour-long open bar of champagne. People had started to get a little tipsy but so far there were no big fusses. The dinner, thankfully, was banquet-style and everyone had made it through the line the requisite number of times. The food had held out. She’d flirted over the steam-table a time or two with him when she was going back and forth to refill empty dishes. God he had a brilliant smile. She felt herself lucky to have found such a hunk of man with such a wonderful smile.
She’d been dating Tommy for months. They had shared so much and she had deep feelings for him, but lately he’d been hinting at more and more commitment. She just wasn’t comfortable with that, well, not yet. She still hadn’t told him her biggest secret and it was eating at her from the inside. Or maybe she’d been fooling herself? He had always seemed out of her league, an athletic guy like him, who was so attentive. What did she have to offer him but heartache? How did she really feel about him? How would he feel once he knew all of the truth?
Was it too much sometimes with the Donatos? She’d kept to herself initially because she was gun-shy and yes, terribly, gun-shy at that. But as time went along and she got to know them all better, had started dating Tom, started working as a waitress at the restaurant with them all, she felt more and more comfortable. It was hard not to relax with such a warm and loving family. They had all wormed their way into her life.
Of course there was an occasional sibling squabble with four Donato kids in that one house plus three other roommates. The togetherness of the Donatos had slowly become a source of nurturing warmth for her, a completely foreign notion of leaning on family, relying on others. And it didn’t hurt that Tommy was a sight for sore eyes.
Etta opened her eyes and took a giant bite out of her apple. God, she was still starving. Chewing her apple, she stared up at the dusky ceiling of her room. This tastes so good. She shouldn’t have gone so long without eating. Maybe she wouldn’t have if Tommy had just left me alone. What on earth was he thinking?
After they’d finished removing dishes from the banquet table at the reception, Etta had dashed back into the kitchen as the last of the food was being hauled off, hoping to grab a quick bite before the cake service was ready to go. As she pushed the flip-door into the kitchen, she noticed Paul, a high-school guy who worked the line during weddings and washed dishes and did general cleanup during regular restaurant hours. He was bent over the line cabinets, picking up random scraps of food and throwing them in the garbage, sorting out pans from dishes, etc.
“Hey, Paul. How ya doing? Anything left for a starving girl with sore feet?”
“One last bite or two of tetrazzini over there.” He head-pointed to a pan on the stainless steel cabinet next to the sink. “Be careful though. I love that stuff. It’s like crack.” Etta smiled. Paul was such a cute kid. Etta stepped into the dish room, grabbed a clean plate and a fork and scooped out the leftover scraps onto her plate, then headed toward the microwave and pushed the time and start button.
“Hey, I heard a rumor tonight that you joined up, Paul. That true?” She leaned back against the counter.
“Yup, signed the papers this week. I ship out the weekend after graduation. Can’t wait to get out of this peapiss of a town, ya know?”
“Mmm, yeah, I know.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Well, good luck, Paul. Keep your head low and shoot the other guy first, will ya?” She winked at him, cutely. She pulled her plate out of the microwave, covering her hand with the towel she kept hanging around her apron. She patted Paul on the shoulder and walked towards the dish room again for a minute of peace and quiet. “See ya around, Etta.”
Etta stood in the doorway of the dish room. She watched the other teenage guy, who was busily spraying and organizing dishes in the giant plastic trays and feeding them into the industrial-sized dishwasher, occasionally wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. She had just started stabbing at her food, when Tom came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling at her noticeably sweaty neck and locking his hands beneath her breasts.
“Hey there, beautiful. I found you! I’ve been looking all over. Where ya been?” He rested his chin, lightly, on her shoulder.
“Trying to find something to eat. There’s not much left to even beg for.” Dang this stuff smells good.
“Well, you should’ve worked your way into an invitation and then I’d be happy to serve you, m’lady.” Tom turned her so that her back was against the doorframe and kissed gently at her cheek and nose.
“Mmmm, give me a minute, will ya?” She got one forkful of food into her mouth, when he grabbed her plate and set it on the counter behind him in the kitchen, returning to her and kissing her full-on, deeply, on the lips. His firm lips against hers sent a jolt of electricity through her body that went directly to her head. Suddenly she felt dizzy.
He backed away, saying, “Hey, I’ve got news for you, if you’re ready to hear some good news, anyway.” He flashed her that dazzling smile and raised one eyebrow. He was clearly excited and delighted. She couldn’t help but return the smile. She never could resist his smile. “Okay, I’m ready. Spill.”
“I got that gig for Summer Research Assistant on Isle Royale that I’d applied for. They said my outdoor skills make up for my lack of an advanced degree.” He raised a hesitant eye, wondering about the reaction he would get from Etta.
Her eyes got wide and she just stared into space for a moment. “Wow, Tom, that’s great,” she said, somewhat unenthusiastically. Damn. This means you’re going to be gone all summer.
“Really? Cause from your reaction you’d think your cat just died.” He kissed her cheek and leaned down to look directly in her eyes. “What are you thinking? I wish I knew what you were thinking sometimes, Etta.” He kissed her quickly, again, on the lips. “Talk to me.” He gently rubbed her shoulders.
She hesitated for another moment, then looked him in the eye and jumped in. “Well, I guess that means you’re off to the great wilds of Lake Superior for the summer, doesn’t it? Alone. Or with some other hairy, apey grizzly guy like you, right?” She shrugged her shoulder slightly and stared back in his eyes.
“Well, yeah, but I don’t have to go alone, ya know. You can bring a loved one along if you want.” He took a deep breath and stared straight into her eyes with a longing. He deeply wished he could convey to her how he felt with a look alone. “You could come with me.” He raised one eyebrow and waited, again, for her response. Please let her say yes.
“What?” Etta stared at him, with wide eyes, absolutely astonished. “Has this been what you’ve been thinking all along?”
He exhaled and began speaking again. “Well, I honestly didn’t think I’d get it, so I didn’t really think it through completely, but, yeah, I figured, maybe we could try it. I mean, you can write anywhere, right? If you hate the camping bit, then I can take you back to Houghton when you want for civilization and a bed.” He paused and waited for her response.
Etta took a deep breath and exhaled. Choose your words carefully, Etta. Think before you speak. Don’t say anything rash. She didn’t say anything.
Tommy went on. “I’d make it as comfortable as possible for you, I swear. Air mattresses galore. I’d rent a boat so we could get supplies whenever we needed. And think of the peace and quiet to write. Nobody to bother you but me. And I’d leave you alone as much as I’m able. What do you say?” He held out his palm to her, hoping she’d take his hand and, well, maybe run off into the sunset with him. Almost literally.
Etta gently put her hand in his hand, stared him in the eyes. She spoke quietly and softly. “Did you really think I would do this with you, Tommy?” She looked deeply into his eyes. Although she was way too tired for it, apparently they were going to have a deep discussion in the kitchen tonight.
He glanced away for a moment, hoping to gain some composure to continue, he looked back at her and began. “Well, I guess, since we’ve been dating for six months and when we’re together, it’s good, like really good. I’ve been practically living out of your room for the past two months or more and we’re practically inseparable. I guess I thought the next natural step would be to keep being together all the time.”
Etta opened her mouth to speak and he put his fingers on her lips. “No, let me finish. I’ve let you be our guide all along. We’ve gone at your pace. It’s my turn.” He paused for a moment. “When I think about spending three months without you, it makes me ache and not just the good parts. It hurts my heart to think about being without you for that long and I’d like to think you’d feel the same way. Do you?” He looked at her dead on, hopefulness in his eyes.
“I don’t want to go three months without you, but 24-7 in the wilderness? That’s a big deal, Tom.” She touched her palm to his cheek. “I don’t think I’m up for quite that much togetherness yet. That’s practically married, Tommy. It’s just too much.” Etta’s voice held a whisper of panic and it hurt him to hear it, but he had a good idea where it came from. It came from whatever she felt she couldn’t share with him. Something deep that had hurt her terribly. There had always been this seed within her that made her withdraw from him. This was something she would need to sort out for herself, but he’d give her words tonight to make her think it through, that was for sure.
Patiently and calmly, Tom spoke again. “Etta, I know we haven’t said the words yet. I haven’t wanted to get too hung up on words and I know you fear commitment. I’ve wanted to keep things light and follow your lead.” He gently placed his palm to her cheek. “I love you. I think you know that and you’ve known it all along. And I think you feel the same way about me. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me. Right now.” He had challenged her and that was how he was going to deal with Etta on this, straight-on and forward.
“I won’t say that. I can’t say that I don’t love you. But, Tom, three months of constant togetherness, that’s forever and under stressful circumstances. Please.” Her eyes implored him to take an extra step of patience with her. “Don’t push this, please.”
“It’s the next logical step and I want to take that next step with you. I want to build my life with you. I want to spend every day with you for three months and then another three months and just keep that going for forever. Do you understand me now?” He paused. “This summer is just a testing grounds, albeit, a rather intense and secluded testing grounds, but if we can get through this summer, then the rest would be a cake walk. For some reason you’re scared of forever, Etta, but I want to prove to you that we can do it. And I want you to understand that’s where I want to go with you, if you’ll have me. I want a lifetime with you.”
Okay. This was it. He’d laid it on the line. Here is the moment of acceptance or rejection. God, he hated that this seemingly innocent discussion had started out one way and now it was ending in, well, what? An ultimatum? A marriage proposal? Dear God, he didn’t want to lose her. This wasn’t how he wanted to do it. Not now and not this way.
Etta closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door frame. Breathe deeply. Inhale. Exhale. Oh my God, did he just propose? It was like in the lamest way possible, yes, but he’d sort of proposed. Inhale. Oh God, I’m not ready for this. Don’t break his heart. Mantra. Don’t break his heart.
“Tom, give me some time. Give me some time to think this through a little. I’m not saying no, but I’m not saying yes right now, not to any of this. But you’ve laid a lot on me right now.” Her mind was racing with thoughts. Her heart was pounding. She could feel a thumping in her left temple that was just getting stronger and stronger. Her breathing was growing shallow. She was starting to hyperventilate. Oh God, no, not hyperventilating. What do they say? Head between your knees. Oh yeah. She quickly bent over and put her hands on her knees. She had to be alone. She had to think about all of this. How long had he been thinking this way? This was too fast. He’d never rushed her before. Why start now?
Tommy was concerned now. He gently rubbed her back. “Just breathe. You’re okay. It’s all going to be okay. Of course I’ll give you time. Take all the time you need. We don’t have to figure this out tonight. How are you feeling? Deep breaths, okay, babe?”
She turned her head slightly to look up at him. “I think I’m gonna just head home, Tommy. Can you drag the troops home? I need air. I need time and air and space.” She started walking to the break room where their coats and personal belongings were held. He followed quickly behind.
“All right. It’s okay. I’ll bring the girls home, of course. But be careful, Etta. It’s snowing like a bugger. And don’t cry all the way. You’ll go in the ditch. There’s nothing to cry about, unless me telling you I love you is a bad thing.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, as she struggled to get the second sleeve of her coat on. He tenderly kissed her left cheek and then her right, then her nose. “And I do love you, Etta, with all my heart. So take care of yourself on the way home. I’d rather love you all in one piece.” With that thought, he let her go.
Etta ran out to her car, as the snow fell in rippled waves through the air, with a gusty wind that bit at her collar and fingertips. She’d made a run for it, not even bothering to remove her apron or grab her gloves, opened the door, climbed in and sobbed bitterly for a few minutes as Tommy stared out the back door of the kitchen at her, worry etched on his face. When she had more control of her emotions, she’d glanced up to see his silhouette in the doorway, turned her head to back out of her parking spot and drove home.
And now what was she supposed to do? Things had spiraled out of control in their “discussion”. And she’d hurt Tommy. She didn’t intend to, but he had to be feeling rejected and irritated with her. She hadn’t said anything she’d regret, but the shock of being pushed into a commitment in such a public place had brought on an anger that had been there under the surface. She hadn’t returned his words of love. She hadn’t realized she harbored any anger with Tom. But she was angry with him. She didn’t like him pushing her, pushing her to places she didn’t know she could handle, feelings she hadn’t had time to process. She didn’t like losing control like that, feeling lost and aimless.
But that was how she felt when he kissed her and when they made love, and she’d given over that control to him then. Why was this so different? But it was different, completely. Planning for forever when she wasn’t sure of next week was more than she could handle. Much more than she could handle. And she’d dealt with some big stuff. And what had that taught her? You had to know your limitations in life.
She’d accepted him and his close family. She even felt like she was a part of them from time to time, but releasing herself to the idea of forever hadn’t been anywhere on her horizon. And what had she done to give him the idea that it was? She had to have given off a faulty signal at some point. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she couldn’t let him manipulate her into something she wasn’t ready for. Okay, he wasn’t asking for marriage right now, just three months on an island. Three months on a secluded island.
Etta sat up in bed, shook her head, as if to clear the cobwebs tangling in her mind. She pulled out Peggy’s letter, ripping open the envelope quickly. Maybe she could think about someone else’s problems for a while and worry about this proposal/Island-thing later. She could count on Peggy to have some kind of problem to solve.
As she read through Peggy’s letter, she found her long-time friend had some pretty big problems of her own. Yeah, she’d once again expressed concern about her move to Michigan. Was she sure she was safe? She’d need to talk her down from that again. Peggy was obviously being sexually harassed at her job as a court reporter, while living in Toledo. What is that about? And it sounds as if that was pretty serious. What? Some guy stalking her? Crap, crap, crap. Oh, she needed to write her.
Etta dug in her drawer to find a smooth-flowing ballpoint pen and the apple orchard stationary she kept on hand just for writing to Peggy.
Dear Peggy,
I really am okay here in Michigan. Try not to worry so much. It’s been almost a year and I’m doing fine.
It sounds like maybe you aren’t doing so well though. I’d say you handled the problem with that sexual harassment thing okay, although I’m sure it’s far from easy to concentrate on what you’re doing with some strange guys’ hand working its way up your thigh. God, what an asshole! I hope, if you ever see him again, you have the chance to knee him or something. (See what self-defense classes can do for you? You might want to think about that.)
I hope that run-in you had with that stalker is well, and truly, over for you. You just can’t mess around with that stuff, as you’ve seen from my situation. It’s just too dangerous, so just bring in law enforcement and keep them on his ass if you have to. Call them three times a day if necessary. I feel much better about you, knowing you have a cop living right next door though. So Jesus, Peggy, suck up to him! He’s your new best friend. Make him brownies. Invite his family over for dinner and make sure he knows your routine, when you come and go, so if something’s out of line, he’ll be sniffing it out in a flash. You can’t be too careful.
Listen, Peggy, you are a beautiful girl living alone in a large city. I know you don’t see yourself as voluptuous and sexy, but you’re built like a brick house. You’re drop-dead gorgeous, so, like it or not, you have to start seeing yourself, at least somewhat, how the world sees you and be careful in how you interact with men. Not just the men in your life (although it sounds like you aren’t even dating at all, which is probably good.) Any man you come into contact with is going to see you, at least somewhat, in a sexual way. It’s just part of their make-up. And you’re still really young, girl, literally fresh off the Minnesota farm. And believe me, some man is going to want to pick your ripe fruit, so please be careful. I’m not saying you have to “take thee to a convent” or anything, but when you do go to parties, just don’t lose control of your faculties so that some asshole can take advantage of you in a weak moment, k?
God, I do worry about you alone there. And I know you’re doing what you say is what you want. But I can’t help wondering …
Etta paused as she heard the back door open and voices downstairs in the kitchen.
“I don’t give a shit about the tip, Sophie! We were done with the reception and four of us gone isn’t going to kill anybody for one night. If money means that much to you, then tell me how much you want. I’ll bust into my piggy and hand it over. Damn it.” Tom was clearly annoyed with his sister, standing with his back to the kitchen sink, both hands leaning against the counter, his boots dripping sludge on the linoleum floor.
“Well, someone’s clearly pissed you off tonight that you were in such an all-fire hurry to get out of there. Shit, Tommy, we only work weddings for the big tips, otherwise it just isn’t worth the time. That’s sort of the point, duh!” Sophie said, hurling a comeback as she sat down at the table, glaring at her brother across the room. “Just leave it, Soph. Enough already.”
Izzy had finished hanging up her coat at the back door and was walking across the kitchen, when Tommy grasped at her arm and whispered in her ear. “Can you go up and get my stuff now? I want to make sure …”
“I know what you want.” Izzy looked up at her twin, their dark brown eyes connecting without words in a way that nobody else could truly understand. “Yeah, I’ll go.” Izzy nodded her head in agreement. She passed through the living room and made her way up the stairs, rapping quietly on Etta’s door. “Etta, it’s Izzy. Can I come in?”
Sitting at her desk, Etta looked towards the door as Izzy poked her head in the small crack as she opened the door. Izzy spoke. “I just need to grab his gym bag and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Yeah, come. No problem.”
Izzy walked over, grabbed the small duffle bag that belonged to Tom and turned to head back to the door, then stopped, put her hand on the back of Etta’s chair, glanced at her in the reflection in Etta’s make-up mirror. “If you want to talk, I’m across the hall. Anytime, and I mean it. Anytime.” She smiled at Etta, lovingly, as a sister would to a sister.
“Thanks,” Etta said quietly.
Izzy started through the doorway, then hesitated before closing it completely. “He won’t leave until I make sure you’re okay. You’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks, Izzy. Tell him I’ll call him after my advisor meeting on Monday?”
“Yeah, okay. Anytime. I’m here for you anytime,” she said, quietly, as she gently closed the door.
Etta’s mouth curved up reluctantly. She was very grateful to have such a great housemate. Sh