Page 38 of Bleeding Hearts

“And here I thought you were the sane one.” She points to Cora, who’s standing in front of what I assume was her wedding dress dangling over the driveway. “This madness is not something my sweet granddaughters need to witness. It’s a good thing I came early, so I could get them out of here.”

Cora looks like she’s about to launch a full bottle of wine at Susanne’s head until her friend—I believe her name is Rylee—grabs Cora’s wrist to stop her.

Shaking her head, Rylee calmly speaks to the older woman behind her. “Not all of us can turn the other cheek, Susanne. I commend you for putting up with your cheating husband for as long as you did. Might want to clean up the skeletons in your closet before scolding Cora for banishing hers. We all can’t be as forgiving as you, now can we?”

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t done in a calm way. Rylee just knew a better way of wounding the other woman that didn’t involve assault.

“Where is Nolan? What are you two doing out here? Does he approve?” Susanne looks around before turning her back and heading into the house. “There is no way my Stephanie would have allowed this. She’s probably rolling over in her grave.”

When Susanne reaches the front door, Cora yells, “You’re wrong. Your daughter would’ve been the first to throw one of these bottles at my dress.” Popping the cork, she tilts the bottle back and takes a healthy swig.

“You’re drunk.” With a sigh, the older woman shakes her head, conveying her disappointment. “I can’t believe my son-in-law would approve of you drinking while watching his children.”

“I’m not drunk. Not yet, at least. Later I will be, though.” Cora brings the bottle to her lips and tilts it back. “Damn, this is good. We really should’ve tasted it before throwing so many bottles and wasting them. How much did you say this wine was worth?”

Her friend reaches into a box filled with more bottles and whistles. “Fifteen hundred.”

With a curious expression, Cora lifts the bottle and examines it closely. “But there were like twenty cases of this delivered. That can’t be right. Are you sure that’s not for all of them?”

Lifting the invoice up to the sky, Rylee studies it. “Troy’s parents sent twenty cases to the apartment?” Her friend’s mouth drops when Cora nods.

“I called them. Told them to come get them before I donated the cases or left them behind for the new renters.” With a heave, she sends the bottle flying; it shatters on the pavement, showering her dress with red wine, staining its pristine white. “They said they wanted me to hold on to them. Tried telling me Troy would come to his senses.”

Rylee picks up another bottle and opens it. “It’s too late for that.”

“Damn straight.” Cora yanks the bottle out of her friend’s hand and walks up to the dress and begins pouring it all over the garment, staining it more. “He can fuck right off. I told them that. That even if he came back, I wasn’t marrying him. I’m done with his ass and his tiny five-point-three-inch pencil dick.”

Her friend nearly doubles over laughing. “I still can’t believe he bragged about that. I need to pee. Try not to hurt yourself while I’m gone. I’ll hurry the girls along, so Susanne stops glaring at us from the window.”

Something happens as soon as the front door closes. Cora’s demeanor shifts and she becomes angry, spewing out a string of words that are barely audible. That’s when I slowly make my way across the street using my new old woman cane. I’m supposed to be using crutches, but they hurt my armpits. It’s not the one I’m aiming to use in a few weeks. This version is more stable. I’m just glad I ditched the walker so quickly. I hated that thing and couldn’t get rid of it soon enough.

Her voice starts off as barely audible and grows louder until she’s screaming.

“Stupid motherfucker with shit for brains. I hope you catch a horrible dick eating disease that is painful and leaves you deformed.” Grabbing the large pair of scissors, their metallic gleam reflecting in sunlight, she mutilates the already ruined dress, each snip a brutal act of destruction, tearing the fabric to shreds.

The neighbor next door to Nolan must have heard the commotion and steps out of her house. “Do you mind? You’re being a little loud and using inappropriate words.”

“Fuck you.” Cora aims the scissors at her. “You, of all people, have no right to come out here and scold me. Must I remind you of how just last week I heard you yelling at your ex-husband, in front of your children?”

Cindy glares at Cora, stomps her foot, and turns to head back into her house.

“That’s what I thought. And word to the wise. My brother isn’t interested in your skank ass, so stop.”

From her porch, Cindy opens her mouth one more time. “I can see why your ex took off now. Boy, did he dodge the bullet. You’re crazy.”

Throwing the scissors on the concrete, Cora takes a few steps toward Cindy. Thankfully, her friend returns just in time to put a hand on her chest. “Hold up. She’s not worth going to jail for.”

“Bye, Aunt Cora,” Kellie hollers as she climbs into her grandmother’s car. “I texted Dad.”

“Hello, Miss Beth.” Mollie waves as her grandmother shoves her in the backseat.

I wave to both girls, noticing Susanne’s unhappy expression. She slams the backdoor before climbing into the front seat, not even bothering to acknowledge any of us before driving off.

“Bitch.” Both ladies say with a smile plastered on their faces as they wave at the girls.

“I hate her,” Cora grumbles.

Huffing and puffing, I finally make it up the drive and stand next to them, admiring her work. “Now that’s what my sister should’ve done with her dress after her divorce.”

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