Page 126 of Bride of Choice

Making sure everything was closed up, I tried to distract myself by making use of the items lying around to make a meal, but it served as a poor distraction.

After all I’d gone through, I found it hard being all alone like this.

Shivering, I lifted the hem of my gown up, twisting and turning my leg this way and that. The scars were minimal and very faint. To look at my leg, you wouldn’t know I’d been maimed previously.

Letting the material drop, I sat on the bed, nibbling on my lip as my gaze continually fell from the door to the windows.

A sharp knock on my door out of nowhere startled me so bad I jerked in place and screamed.

“Joanie? Honey? Are you alright?!” Dorothy called out, knocking louder, harder.

“I- Uh- I- You scared me,” I called back. “I’m fine!”

“Heard your clothes met up with disaster.” She let out a soft chuckle along with whichever of her mates were with her. “Thought you might like something more substantial than night clothes to put on in the meantime. It’s not much but it’s somethin’.”

Wrapping the blanket from Bum-bum around my shoulders, I went to the door.

Dorothy got one look at me and did a bit of blinking. Lips parting, she was just shy of gaping at me. “Would- Didja- I heard a fair bit about what happened… thought I might extend the invitation for a hot bath and a nice meal,” she blurted as she eyed the ratted state of my hair.

My hand went to my wild locks self-consciously as Griever grinned, standing just behind her. “Odix say Joanie drink Prokar’s punch.” Even Dorothy’s big baddie of a mate winced sympathetically. “Not for hued-mans. Too strong.”

“Oh, good heavens,” Dorothy hushed him up, though she was stifling a laugh.

“Did he point out I was out of my damned mind for a while and super sorry about all the shit I may or may not have pulled?” I pressed. Puckering my lips as my face pulled into a funky moue, I added with a bit of flair, “Fabulously as I can pull off just about anything.”

Griever laughed this time. “Odix no know what think. Him say Jojoknee sweet one moment, sad, mad, too much happies, cries, sings, dance.” Imitating my booty dancing from the night before, he chortled to himself. “Big Odix know no what do little Jojoknee,” he chortled out.

Pointing at my person, I gave him a funny look. “Last I checked, I’m not little.”

“Dorothy scary more,” he begged to differ.

I grinned at that and shrugged. “She’s meaner on the punch, is she?”

“She mean,” Grieve confirmed.

“I- I wasn’t myself! I didn’t know it was so… potent!” Dorothy burst out, looking ready to have it out at the mention of it. “Prokar didn’t say a word about how strong it was! He just offered me a drink! How was I supposed to know?!” To me, she babbled quickly, “I had no idea and I’d barely had more than a sip or two! One moment I was a giggling mess, the next I’m the talk of the village, the human that ran naked during a snow storm her mates had to chase back into their hut!”

A genuine belly laugh gripped me. Dorothy? Sweet, motherly Dorothy? A streaker?

“Why have I never heard this before?” I got out between laughs. Ugh. It felt so good to laugh like this. I had a hard time recalling the last time I giggled like a fool at someone else’s expense. Oh, wait, there was tormenting Doogie, but half the time I was sauce loopy or hungover. It half counted.

“It was the one time,” Dorothy insisted, her face reddening at her admission. Holding up her finger, she shook her head. “The originals of our village all know about it but the others, well, I prefer my sons and the younger generation to make their own judgements about me as I am now, not how silly I was one night drunk on wild moonshine.”

“Oh, c’mon.” My gaze darted from Griever to Dorothy. “I’m sure there’s tons of other stories from when you all were younger.” Waggling my eyebrows at Griever, I joked, “She was wild, wasn’t she?” Tsking her, I went further then. “I’ll bet there’s a heap of crazy I’ve yet to hear about.” Grinning, I prodded Griever teasingly as Dorothy spluttered denials, “Do tell.”

“Griever tell… but no’ want sleep outside,” Griever entreated, motioning for me to follow them as I made to grab my things up.

After putting on the short, soft booties she offered, I nabbed up my purse. Taking my arm in hers, patting my arm with her free hand as we walked in an absent, comforting gesture, after swearing me to secrecy— thoroughly enjoying the pinky swearing this precipitated— she launched into the tale of the one and only time she’d ever imbibed Lo denaii shine in great detail, as well as a couple juicy tidbits from her younger days I was threatened by punishment of death if I ever told another living soul.

Oh, Doro was FUN.

Sharing a tale or three of my own misfortunes, we laughed our fool heads off.

“I like this thing we’ve got going,” Dorothy admitted.

“Me, too,” I agreed.

It hadn’t occurred to me that like me and Rosa, she understood the importance of finding someone that one hundred percent just got it, all of it, without judgement. Sure, having a lot of friends with varied interests was nice, but having someone to run things off of, a legit secret keeper and sounding board, an all-encompassing friend, a one in a million, was so much fucking nicer.

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