You call this fate?

Chapter 3

I jumped out of bed—groping for support, hair flying every which way—just as Tasha entered the room. I gaped at her, then at the door on the floor, and then at the clock. It was half past five. I leaned heavily against the wall.

"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" I asked, rubbing sleep crusts from my eyes.

"Whoops!" Tasha said, engaging in that little shoulders-shrug thing people do when they know they are in huge trouble but couldn't care less. She pointed at the door with her blood-red nail as she circumvented it and proceeded into the room. "I will definitely get that fixed. You should have told me your hinges were rotten. I only pushed the door open really hard. Sheesh. One would think I had super-human strength."

I planted my hands on my waist and glared at her. "So now it's my fault you vandalised my property? And you bloody well will get it fixed! How did you get in anyways?" I rubbed at my head. It was too early for all this.

I guess I had it coming when I asked that question. Before the words were out of my mouth, she was holding up a suspiciously familiar looking key. "A copy of yours," she admitting, before throwing it into her bag like it was the most normal thing to do.

"When," I asked, holding up a finger, "did you do that?"

"Opportunities, love," she said sagely. "One must avail them when one is given the chance."

"You—"

"Oh, please," she interrupted, raising her hands before her, palms outwards, as if offering peace. "We have much more important things to discuss than this."

I thought for a moment, then concluded it most definitely was too early. Sighing heavily, I let myself fall back on the bed, twisting my head to look at Ella. She, like the true baby she was, was still sleeping peacefully, curled up in a foetal position. "There is a kid in this room, Tasha. You can be more sensible, you know."

"I know, I know. I am sorry." She stopped by Ella's bed to drop a kiss on her forehead. Her lipstick left a mark. Then she flipped her hair over one shoulder and shrugged out of her beige overcoat. "But," she said, as she made herself at home on my bed. "I have the most amazing news and couldn't help getting excited."

"Over-excited," I muttered, wondering if shutting my eyes would make her disappear.

"Listen, you won't believe what I found out!" she squealed.

"I don't believe you broke my door and the evidence is right in front of my eyes. I think you might be right."

"Well, here it is." She waiting to oblige dramatics, then... "I found you a job!"

I opened my eyes. "What?"

"I found you the best of jobs ever! You won't have to work in that shit-hole restaurant anymore! I am amazing! Give a loud round of applause for—"

"Shut it, Tasha," I said, grabbing her hand as she attempted to spread it in a wide circle. I pulled myself up to my elbows, then sat up all the way. "Calm down and tell me what exactly you mean," I ordered.

She took a deep breath, her skin flushed to complement dress. "Okay, listen—"

"Aunt Tasha?"

We both turned to find Ella sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes. "Is that you, Auntie?"

Tasha beamed. She leaped out of bed and gathered the limp-with-sleep Ella in her arms. "Yes, it is, sweetie. Good morning." She fit Ella's head under her chin and kissed her hair. "And how is my best little girl in the world?"

"Good," Ella mumbled, half asleep already.

It seems I need to set matters to right here. No, Tasha is not my sister. She is my best friend though, and the one, single person in the world I would pick over a blood relative any day. She was as strong a part of me as my own heart, so Ella calling her Auntie was no surprise.