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Dior sighed out loud as she heard her mother’s bedroom door open. She didn’t even want to hear what Donna had to say about Brian staying the night. She was just glad that she’d at least spared her the embarrassment of waking them up and yelling at her in front him.
“Good morning Ma,” she said as her mother joined her in the kitchen.
“Hey,” Donna said as she started a pot of coffee.
“How did you get the day off?” Dior asked, buying some time.
“By agreeing to work for somebody else tomorrow. Tamara is covering my shift tonight and I’ll cover hers tomorrow. I get Christmas Eve off and she gets Christmas day off. It’s better than both of us having to work both days.”
“Yeah, but don’t double shifts wear you out?”
Dior poured herself a bowl of Apple Jacks.
“Yeah, but it’s only one day. I’ll be okay. Did Brian go home?” Donna asked with a smirk.
“Yeah,” Dior said softly.
“How long has he been staying over?”
“Not long,” Dior lied.
“How long is that?”
“Uhh, just like, a few weeks,” Dior lied some more.
He had staying over for months now.
“I don’t mind. I mean, I trust you to use good judgment, but you should have told me,” Donna said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Dior said softly.
“Don’t be sorry. Be smart and be careful,” Donna told her. “You ready to cook Christmas dinner?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah. Can Breeze come over? Miss Lauren and Nya went out of town so she home alone,” Dior said as she laughed a little.
“Yeah she can come over, but what’s so funny?” Donna asked.
“I said home alone.” Dior laughed some more.
“Oh my goodness. I remember you wore that movie out,” Donna said, recalling the three years that Dior watched Home Alone part one and part two nonstop. If Donna never had to watch either of those movies again it would be too soon.
“We should watch ‘em tonight,” Dior said as someone knocked on the front door.
“Please don’t put me through that,” Donna said as she went to answer the door.
“Hey Breeze,” she said as she let her daughter’s best friend in.
“Hey Mama Donna,” Breeze replied, wishing that Donna had been her mother. Her life would have been so much better.
“You want something to eat?” Donna asked as they went into the kitchen where Dior was washing out her bowl.
“No I ate.”
Breeze sat down at the kitchen table. She admired the way that Donna and Dior got along. Donna had found her daughter in bed with a boy, yet they were both smiling instead of arguing. She would have never heard the end of it if something like that had happened with her and Lauren.