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Put Death Pledges a Sorority in the subject line.
“Mother’s here to save the day.”
Her smiling parent entered the kitchen carrying a bulging bag, placed the colorful tote on the counter, and hugged Donna.
“Hi.” Her mother showing up was never a simple I was in the neighborhood type of thing. “So, what merits the pleasure of your company?”
Her mother laughed and gave her a playful slap. “You act like you don’t know.”
She didn’t. “I should know?” Her eyebrows arched in inquiry.
“Silly.” Her mother smirked at her. “There you go teasing me. I never thought you ever had much of a sense of humor as a child, but you must have picked up some. Maria called me on her way out of town. She told me you needed a hand with your activities.”
“Ah.” Donna stalled, searching her memory for any hints that her mother might be assisting her this weekend. Maria had apologized profusely, promising to get someone to help. She’d expected one of Maria’s co-workers who would have been easy to boss around, not her mother. “It’s all coming back now.”
“Good thing, I’m here since your memory is slipping.” Cecilia turned and grabbed her bag from the counter. “You can thank me later for the fun items I brought. At least one of us has a clue how to party.”
Nope. She wasn’t going to respond to the dig. She knew how to party. It just usually involved a food processor, possibly a blender, heavy cream, and top shelf brandy. “What do you have?”
Her mother pulled a can from the bag and sprayed into the air. The stink of aerosol and a shot of color, then something gooey plopped onto the floor. Donna stared at the color blob in disgust.
Tennyson strolled into the room as Cecilia pushed the nozzle down again. “Silly string. Way cool, Cici.”
When had he started calling her mother Cici? That was supposed to be her code dating name to keep her rejected suitors from tracking her down. There wasn’t time to query anyone about name changes when her hardwood floors were in danger. “Not cool. It will ruin my floors. Besides, I think that would appeal more to fifth-grade boys than grown women.”
Her mother’s gleeful expression drooped a little. “You could be right. The employee who suggested it was a teen.” She turned the can over in her hand and stared at it. “I can’t even read what it has in it. Probably better off not using it. Here, Ten, you take it.”
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