Page 38 of She is the Darke

It was bittersweet approaching the 31st, knowing the next day, the countdown would be 364 days until she could enjoy this holiday again.

But…

The bright side was that November first wasn’t going to feel so hollow this year, because Tyler was here. They’d already talked about bullying their parents into accepting each other so they could do a big, combined Thanksgiving dinner this year. That part had been Tyler’s idea initially. He had a much bigger mountain to climb with that idea, since he’d charmed her mother, unbeknownst to her.

He'd brought her a dozen black roses and had a sit-down talk with her yesterday. He’d told her he was sorry for being a shithead kid back then, and toilet-papering her house. He’d told her mom how much he liked Demi, and hoped that over time Mrs. Darke would see the good in him.

That was grown-man shit right there. Her father had never really minded him, and thought him funny for the most part, but her mom had watched her fall apart back when she was younger, after that kiss and rejection.

Tyler was a fixer, she was starting to learn.

His work had finished up yesterday. He had single-handedly done the lighting on almost every home in this part of the neighborhood over the last couple weeks, which was wild. His work ethic was sexy. Already he spoke of doing this with her next year, and she loved it.

Right in the middle of her clicking pictures for her website, Danielle pulled up in a brand-new truck that was the same make and model as Demi’s.

“What the hell?” she muttered, lowering her phone.

“Hi!” Danielle called, hopping out with a coffee in her hand. She was dressed in orange leggings, and a black thermal that hugged her perfect curves. Her platinum-blonde hair was pulledback in Viking braids, and her makeup this morning looked like it belonged on a runway.

She approached as Danielle was pulling her tailgate down. The bed of her truck was full of real pumpkins in the varieties they sold at her family’s pumpkin patch.

“Nice truck,” she said, annoyed.

“Thanks. I saw yours was working well for you, so I got a newer model,” Danielle quipped.

She swallowed her sarcastic laugh down. “Real pumpkins now?” she said.

“Yeah, your mom was kind enough to cut me a deal.”

“No, she didn’t.”

Danielle gave her a harsh smile and cocked her head. “No, she didn’t. She probably overcharged me.”

“Why do you do this?” Demi asked, finally giving a voice to all of the roiling feelings she’d had over the decorating season.

“Do what?” Danielle asked innocently.

“Copy everything I do?”

“Because you came up with a good business model, but I know I can do it all better than you.”

“It’s not doing it better if you just chase my scraps.”

“Your scraps.”

“You undermine my business and undercharge just to take clients away from me. I get a truck, you get a truck. I get real pumpkins, you get real pumpkins. Nothing you do is original. You’re just an off-brand version of me wishing it was more.”

“Hmm,” Danielle said darkly. “Or perhaps I’m your replacement.”

Demi shook her head and walked away. “You have problems, Danielle.”

“You’re going to have problems next year,” Danielle yelled after her. “I have plans, and thenyouwill be the off-brand version. No one will want to work with you.”

“What is it?” Demi yelled, rounding on her. “Why are you obsessed with what I do?”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are! You always have been. It’s not healthy! It’s fucking creepy. You’ve given me way too much room in your mind, when I don’t even think of you. Why have you given me that kind of power in your head?”

---