Page 59 of Unstable

“Yes, I’m fine. I…uh…brought you something.” I shove the gift at her in all my graceful etiquette.

“For me?” She puts a hand over her heart and blushes. “What on earth?”

“Open it,” I encourage with a smile.

She peels at the paper slowly, either savoring the suspense, or like some older ladies, wanting to save the paper. Who knows. When she finally lifts the lid and sees the earrings, she looks up at me with tear-filled eyes.

“Henley, you sweet thing. I love them, but you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” I jut out my chin and say proudly.

“Well thank you, honey.” She wraps me in another hug, dampening my shoulder with tears. “Do you have time to sit, tell me how you’re doing?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” I easily agree and follow her to the couch in the lobby.

She studies me, then says, “My eyes may be deceiving me, but I do believe something’s changed. You look…happy.”

“I might be,” I croak, my own eyes moistening up. “Would it be okay if I was? Trying to be at least? Is it too soon? What will people say?”

Lord, I’m a mixed-up mess and Donna’s so…motherly, that it all just comes pouring out.

“Oh, sweetie,” she wraps a loving arm around my shoulder and tucks my chin to her chest, “it’s always okay to strive for happiness. What else would be the point of life, to try and be miserable? That doesn’t make much sense does it?”

“A lot’s happened. I need help sorting it all out in my mind, and my heart,” I plead.

“Start at the beginning and we’ll see how far we get.” She pats my cheek. “Least I can do for those fancy schmancy earrings,” she giggles, delighted with the treat I know she’d never treat herself to.

I open my mouth, deciding where to start, and next thing I know, there’s a pile of wadded up Kleenex in my lap and I’m blubbering about the belt buckle. I did not share a single word with her of the hot and heavy session in the truck, but I think she suspects something. My face was probably glowing neon pink even from skipping over it.

“Well,” she heaves, “where to start. You’re good with your sister and your mama, you know that in your heart now. So no more beating yourself up about that. Sounds like you’re feeling out the farming, so no worrying about that anymore either. Which leaves Keaton. Which is what’s really got you wound in knots.”

I nod. She’d see right through any other act I tried to play.

“He’s a good man, Henley. And you’re a good woman. I’m not seeing the problem, honey.”

“What if people talk, disapprove?” I bite my lip.

“Pardon my English, but fuck them! What’d I say about Loy and his shotgun?”

Oh. My God.Is it okay to laugh, once my heart starts beating again, that is?

Donna Simms just dropped the F bomb, with authority…in a funeral home.

Greatest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Don’t look at me like that, this isn’t the House of the Lord,” she justifies herself brazenly.

“But what if I’m just a passing phase, and once he’s obtained the unobtainable, he leaves? Hurts me? What then? I’d be further back than where I started.” My teeth toy anxiously with the inside of my cheek.

“Don’t you ever get tired of carrying every possible ‘what if’ around on your shoulders all the time? If he does, you pick yourself back up, dust yourself off, and keep going. You’ve proven you can do that, Henley. And my dear, have you considered the alternative? What if he doesn’t? What if he means every word he says and loves you forever? For Heaven’s sake, it’s been fifteen years and he hasn’t lost interest yet. But you listen to me, be sure before you leap. Be sure of your faith in yourself and especially in him, because you head into it waiting on and looking for the bad—that’s exactly what you’ll find. You’ll create it, imagine it, if that’s your mindset. And then you may end up being the one to crush him. Until you’re ready to expect, accept, and look for the good, slow down. That’s the best advice I can give you.”

“Thank you, Donna. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I hug her first this time, gather up my Kleenex and stand to throw them away. “Is that clock right?” I ask, panicked.

“Yes. I’ll be, I didn’t realize it was so late. We’re already closed,” she snickers.

“I’ve been gone all day and my phone’s in the truck. I gotta get home and check on Bourbon. Bye Donna, thank you again!”

“Thank you for the earrings,” she calls as I rush out the door.

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