Gladys, a plump brunette with gray streaks in her hair lays strewn across a navy-blue chaise lounge. The sun gradually rises and blankets her pale skin as she slowly awakens.
“where the hell am I?” she announces in a boozed daze.
A slim caramel toned woman gleefully prances from her bedroom through her open concept home. Her shoulder length raven colored ringlets bounce with her walk as she smiles from inner thoughts. Her sashay skips a beat when she reaches the living room leading to the kitchen.
“Oh… you’re awake,” Donna replies to the disappointing image.
“Excuse me…” Gladys calls to Donna.
“…Ma’am, I didn’t have a chocolate on my pillow last night.”
“You’re lucky I gave you a pillow,” Donna remarks snidely.
She places a K-Cup in the coffee brew machine and presses the start button.
Gladys lifts her head to get a view of Donna.
“I used to look like you,” Gladys smiles. Her ear-to-ear grin reveals missing teeth on the right side of her mouth.
“…and then what?” Donna requests.
Gladys chuckles “…and then nothing. I guess that’s not a compliment since I’m old and fat now… aye.”
Donna sips her steaming coffee and stares blankly at her house guest.
“ok…I’d look like you if I was dark…like you have tan skin and I’m white,” Gladys further explained her case.
Donna swiftly stomps to the living room area, snatches up the black duffel bag from the floor near the chaise lounge. She returns to the kitchen and grabs a few items from the pantry; tossing them into the bag.
“Now, now sweetie. I don’t mean any harm. My dead husband Harvey was black,” Gladys continues while watching Donna quickly travel from room to room of the 2,000 square foot ranch.
“He left us…and then he died MOM! So, stop reminiscing like he was this great man,” Donna sneers.
She hands Gladys the duffle bag. Gladys slowly stands from her seat squinting her eyes in confusion.
She ignores Donna’s anger “You do look like you could be my daughter, but she’s a little girl.”
“…Only seven years old with nappy curly pigtails” She groans from elderly pains as she stands from her seat.
“You have to stop these antics,” Donna sighs as a tear rolls down her right cheek. “Next time I find you drunk and passed out on the side walk…I’m leaving you there.”
Accepting the filled bag and walking towards the front door “This is a rude bed and breakfast,” Gladys declares.
“Your ride back to the home will be here in 2 minutes,” Donna says over her left shoulder while walking towards her bedroom. The door closes behind her.
“That lady reminds me of my baby girl Donna. I sure do miss her,” Gladys thinks out loud.
Another great short story. I’ll have to share this with my class. With my mom suffering from dementia and possibly Alzheimer’s Disease, this one hits home a little. I understand Donna’s frustration and love.