Chapter 18 - A Change of Plans

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When the doorbell rang thirty minutes later, Marisol didn't hesitate to answer it. Her father had driven down to the main road in the Chevy pickup truck with the rifle rack across the back window. No one could make it to the front door without being vetted by him. And Marcus zoomed away in his red T-bird, off to purchase a new lock for the front gate. They would hunker down at the family compound, the way they did after Papa died when the family was besieged by the press.

On the front porch, fresh-faced and windblown, stood Marisol's best friend since grade school. Donna was a few inches taller than Marisol, slim and strong from years of ballet lessons, and she gave the best hugs.

"Donner! I missed you so hard. How did you know I was home?"

"Are you kidding? The entire country knows you're home."

"You saw that?"

"Me and 50 million others. I'm only guesstimating. Nice high school yearbook photo, by the way."

"What? What channel was that on?"

"Walter Cronkite."

Marisol's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh for fuck's sake. Really?"

Donna nodded soberly.

"The one with the...?" Marisol circled one hand over her head.

"So I came over to see if you'd teach me how you got your hair to do that...that flip thing. It practically defies gravity."

In spite of the debacle of the last thirty minutes, Marisol laughed. And laughed some more. "Oh my hell. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse."

Donna patted her oversized orange macrame handbag. "The good news is, I brought rum. Leilani Hawaiian to be exact."

"You are a goddess."

"Hi kiddos." Donna waved to the twins as they passed through the living room.

"I'm scared, Aunt Mari," Sophie said.

"It's not a real monster," Lucy said disdainfully.

"Don't watch Lost in Space, girls. Your mom says it gives you nightmares. What else is on?" Marisol flicked the dial over the other two networks. "Watch Flipper."

"I brought you girls something." Donna held up two gum ball machine troll dolls in their plastic capsules. She handed the pink haired one to Lucy and the purple one to Sophie. Lucy examined hers for only a second before swapping with her sister.

"I don't like pink."

Sophie smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Aunt Mari's friend Donner."

"What do you say, Lucy?" Marisol demanded.

"Thanks," Lucy said, tucking the unopened toy in the pocket of her corduroy pants, her attention back on the television.

"Where is your mother anyway?"

"She went to Woolworth's," Sophie said. "She got her period."

"Oh. Nice."

"Do women get their periods on the weekends too?" Lucy asked.

"Yes."

"Jesus Christ," Lucy muttered under her breath.

Donna snorted a laugh.

"Don't let your grandmother hear you swear," Marisol said, adding, "That child is a work in progress," when they were out of earshot.

"And six going on thirty," said Donna.

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