"No, it's cool. I can get the pizza."
She didn't answer.
Steve put his pants on, and they grabbed their boards.
The familiar clatter of wheels on the pavement was like a reset. That other Serene in the white dress was just an apparition. She didn't belong in that life.
They flew down the road, weaving along, jumping on and off the sidewalks, crouching, standing, bending their bodies this way and that to accommodate every nuance of change it took to keep balance.
34
Dora - February 2020
Erica and Cuppa had left the house to go on a walk. They'd invited Dora to come with them, but she'd begged off, pretending a headache. Instead, she slipped into the bedroom she shared with Erica. Although it was her bedroom, too, she felt like an intruder, somewhere she didn't belong. But she had to know. Know more about this Dora person––Dora, who had stolen her life. Her eyes swept over the room. The walls were painted a lime-green wash, giving a relaxed Mediterranean feel to the space. Like the living room, everything was in shades of grey and beige, the bedding, sheets and duvet, soft, worn linen. The red area rug on the dark wood floor was the one vibrant color in the room. It automatically drew the eye, like red lipstick on a fresh clean face. Dora let her hand sink down into the marshmallow softness of the down pillows. The custom shades on the windows were a summer grass brown, and light, airy gauze curtains hung before the glass on the sliding door. Pictures of her and Erica hung on the wall over the bed. One was a wedding photo. Dora wore a sheer white gown with a lace bodice, and Erica a white suit. she looked so masculine that Dora mistook her for a man and did a double take. In the wedding photo, they gazed affectionately into each other's eyes next to a lake somewhere. Erica's arms encircled her waist. Dora cupped Erica's face. The other picture was of them at a tropical beach, the water a translucent turquoise. They were both laughing and wet from a recent swim, the sunlight streaming through Dora's hair.
She opened a drawer to one of the end tables by the bed. It held a book titled, The Only Beauty Regimen You'll Ever Need, a pair of earrings and some lip balm. Dora picked up the book and opened it to the dog-eared page, a chapter on creams and potions. She closed the book and put it back, instinctively knowing that this was her side of the bed. Curious, she opened the other end table's drawer. It contained a tube of lubricant and several different sex toys. Heart in her throat, she glanced over her shoulder before picking up the first toy, a black dildo with some pubic hair clinging to it. Setting it back down, she picked up the next gadget, a wand-like apparatus, then, a cup thing with a lid. Quickly, she put it back, arranging the toys in the same way she found them.
From the end table she walked to one of the dressers. The top drawer held a mess of lacy bras and panties. Dora opened the next drawer, rummaging through the winter tops, and the next, finding leggings, some capris and stylish blue jeans. In the closet, it was easy to see which side belonged to her and which to Erica. All of Erica's clothes were masculine and Dora's feminine. Her hand swept over the dresses for warm weather, some businessy type clothing and a few sweaters. Lined on racks were shoes––so many different kinds, it made her head spin. There were boxes on the shelves and what looked like summer clothes, folded and put away.
Dora left the closet, an anxious feeling pulsing through her. She wanted to find something. Something important. Back to the dresser. She opened the drawers she hadn't looked in yet, pulled out the clothes, examined them, put them back. And there it was in the very bottom drawer, crammed against the back: a white T dress. She still had it. Is this what she was looking for? It seemed only weeks ago she'd bought the dress. Dora ran her hand over the fabric and then lifted the dress out of the dresser. It was folded tightly. She unfurled it, and something hard and black came flying out from between the folds. It clattered against the edge of the drawer and fell to the floor. A phone. Dora picked it up. “Nokia,” she read under her breath. Did she get a phone soon after she bought the dress and it had somehow become sentimental? Dora thought hard. She'd worn the dress several times but couldn't remember owning a phone. Well, it was obviously old—nothing like what people were using today. Probably didn't even work anymore. She pressed the green icon button––nothing––and then tried the red. Menu flickered onto the screen. After experimenting a bit, she was able to open up the phone book, but there were no saved numbers. Closing the drawer, she placed the dress under her arm and left the bedroom, going back to her old room-turned-office and took a seat on the rolling chair at her desk. Scrolling through the different options on the phone, she found a call log of unknown incoming calls. Frowning, she clicked through the menu options until she found Messages. There were two saved messages.
First Message: "Blessings be," a familiar airy voice came through the speaker. "Have you forgotten our visit, Dora? I will call to confirm our next scheduled date, goddess of gifts."
Darpan?
Second Message: "Blessings be, Dora. It’s not always easy to walk with the light. I trust you will do the right thing and rise to your godly self, confirming your divine essence, and let truth have its voice."
"What the hell is he talking about?" Dora muttered to herself,
