A lot. So, I think it would be cool to do this. I swear if I gain weight, I’ll kill you.” Dana grinned.
Lara let her hand drop to her side, but Dana held on to it. “You might gain some muscle, but frankly, Dane, you need some.”
“Funny, ha-ha.”
* * * * *
Kit sat in her office at The Planet. She was just starting her renovations. Her portion of Melvin’s estate was more than she had predicted. He had been filled with such venom for her most of her life that she hadn’t anticipated getting a dime from him. When she learned what he had left, she almost fainted. Her inheritance meant that she could get the bank out of her pocket once and for all. The Planet could be hers.
She sat at Marina’s old desk signing checks. She ripped the last check out of her ledger and smiled. This was the first time in her life that she wasn’t worried about money. She had a nest egg that she wouldn’t deplete and her new business was the exception to the rule—it was making money hand over fist. She couldn’t complain.
She found the architect she wanted and showed her the plans she had envisioned when she first bought the space. The architect understood that vision and was working with her to make it a reality. She was renovating the public bar and café space, adding a larger, sturdier stage area, opening up what had been a small deck for outdoor seating, and she was reworking Marina’s old office. Kit’s private room was turning into a multi-purpose space. It was her office where there were files in fancy cabinets, a desk that had held beautiful oak accessories for office supplies, a nice sofa-sleeper was brought in for the many late nights she anticipated when The Planet became a club in the evenings. She decorated this room with Afrocentric art—handwoven baskets and sandstone sculpture were placed on shelves, paintings and photographs of African villages, groups of women, and the Serengeti were on the walls. She was waiting to receive furniture from this Ghanaian importer. Kit had toured in Africa years ago and had fallen in love with the warm colors and styles she saw in the homes of the people of Ghana. Last week she ordered chairs, a bench, some side tables and three wooden CD holders. She doubted her sister would appreciate her own version of an artistic eye, but this was her space, not Bette’s.
Her life had always been complicated and mixed-up while her younger sister’s had been controlled and followed a well-constructed path. Now, she was the one who seemed to have it together while Bette struggled with unemployment, a newborn, and a very ill girlfriend.
* * * * *
Bette arrived at the hospital and saw that the nurses had already gathered much of Tina’s belongings and well wishes and placed them on the two tables in the room. Bette, dressed in a white tunic with embroidered flowers and a pair of jeans walked to the bed. “Hi, baby. How are we doing today? Ready for the big move?” Tina lay perfectly still in the bed. “When I told Angelica I was coming to see you, I swear her eyes lit up, Tee. I can’t wait for you to see her.” Bette stared down at her lover. Nothing was registering, that much was clear. It was hard for Bette to try. She was a results-oriented woman. Each day, there was no result to witness. Each day was the same thing. She shrugged and moved to the table and began filling the two empty boxes that someone had been kind enough to leave for her. She placed the dried flowers in the boxes and dropped the nearly dead bouquets into the trash. She packed up the iPod and the docking station, threw magazines into the box, too. The toiletries were still in the bathroom and she went in to retrieve them. When she returned into the room, she was surprised to see Dr.
