“Dara!”
Dara felt the catch in her neck as soon as it happened. She jerked forward so abruptly that her entire right side had twisted in a way that normally would’ve seemed humanly impossible.
“Girl, don’t scare me.” India was clutching her chest. “I thought you were dead.”
Dara winced when she tried to tilt her head to the right. “Why did you scream my name like that? No, I’m not dead, but you almost killed me with a heart attack.”
India dropped her purse on the coffee table. “I’ve been knocking on the door for the past five minutes and couldn’t get you to answer the phone. I had to run downstairs to my glove compartment and get your spare key.”
“You were knocking?” Dara asked, stretching her mouth wide with a yawn.
“And calling on every phone you have,” India fussed. “What’s going on? Have you been in here getting your sip on or something?” she asked, walking into the kitchen and doing an inspection in the sink and trash can.
“I’ve been up all night,” Dara said, rotating her right arm to see if that would help relieve the pain in the side of her neck. “You’re not going to believe this.” She walked into the kitchen and pulled the cereal box out of the pantry.
“What I don’t believe is that you’re about to eat cereal when you were getting on me about being on time.” Despite her fussing, India opened the cabinet and pulled out two bowls. “And then you have the nerve not to have any clothes on,” she said, holding out Dara’s shoes, each one of them hooked on the tip of one finger.
Dara shoved her hand into the side of the cereal box and produced the small paper square. She put it into India’s empty hand. Either India would call the lottery phone number and tell Dara she’d been hearing things or she’d tell her that both of their lives had officially changed. Dara was prepared for the former. Becoming a millionaire in one day was too good to be true.
“Call the number on the back of the ticket,” she told India.
“Ticket? What kind of ticket?” India asked, unfolding the paper.
When her cousin realized it was the lottery ticket, she nearly went into an immediate stupor.
“Don’t do it,” Dara said. “Don’t go there. At least not now. Just call the number.” She hovered over India’s back as her cousin tried to call the lottery number.
“Please stop. You’re making me nervous,” India said, looking around.
Dara could imagine that her cousin was going through the same thought process that she had when she’d first called. And Dara was right.
“Is the door locked?” India asked. “Check the door.”
Dara did as she was told because Dara knew India wouldn’t push a single, solitary number until then. Dara unlatched, then relatched both locks on the front door and shook the handle to assure India that they were safely bolted inside.
“I swear, if you’re playing with me, I’m gonna—”
“Call the number, India,” Dara screamed. She bit into her fist.
India dialed the number, and when her mouth dropped open in disbelief, Dara had her first confirmation that it was true. She’d hit the lottery. They’d hit the lottery.
“You won,” India whispered frantically.
“No. We won,” Dara said. She gripped India’s shoulders and shook her back and forth. “We won.”
“We won,” India repeated. She covered her mouth and held in a squeal. She set down the lottery ticket in the middle of the coffee table and backed away from it. “That’s the ticket that I bought last—”
“That’s the ticket,” Dara said. She picked up the ticket again and folded it back into fours. “Why are we whispering?” she asked.
“Because,” India said. She looked around the room and began to throw back the sheers and open the blinds. “I don’t know why. We can buy this entire building if we want to,” she said, kicking each of her legs so that her shoes flew off and hit the wall. One of them left a black scuff mark on its fall to the floor.
“Put it on my half of the tab,” India screamed, her voice finally escalated to normal. Then with each word it raised an octave.
Dara stuffed the ticket back in the box. “Okay, shut up already,” she said, even though she wanted to do the same thing. “You keep it up and the whole city is going to know.”
“Once people get ahold of this news, you know we’re going to have all sorts of new friends and family.”
“Nobody is getting word of anything because we’re not telling a soul yet.”
“My thoughts exactly. And especially not Uncle Hunter.”
“Not unless you want me to get written out of the will,” Dara said, not wanting to think about her parents’ reaction to her windfall fortune. Dara twisted off the childproof top of her multivitamins. Her inadequate sleep was already taking a toll on her, and now wasn’t the time to make her body susceptible to illness. “We might be going to the grave with two secrets between us.”
India was helping herself to a breakfast bar from the pantry. “That microscopic cross tattoo on your back is nothing compared to this,” she said.
Dara perched her feet up on the coffee table and leaned her head back against the couch pillows. The muscle strain on her right side prevented her from getting as comfortable as she wanted to.
“I know you’re not trying to kick back and relax. We’ve got to get to church. We’ll be a little late, but not that much.”
“You’re going to church?”
“This is not the day that I want God to decide to strike me down with lightning because I didn’t go to church because of a lottery ticket. Throw that cereal box in the pantry and get moving,” India directed. “If you think I was having a praise party yesterday, you wait until I get to church.”