Bag Lady III – Me
“Where is my black purse, you man-snatching ashawo?”
Lola looked like a train trying to go in two directions at once; back out the door she just came through or towards the bed a few feet in front of her.
The bed won.
She knew how the Israelites felt; wading through the Red Sea – except the walls were not of water this time. They were made of Bisi’s eyes; staring tidal waves and thunderstorms at her.
She made it to the bed and collapsed on it, cool softness accepting her in spite of herself. “What purse?”
Bisi’s words were bullets shot point-blank into a bulletproof vest. “My black felt purse! The black –“
“Bisi, I didn’t take your purse. You know I’d tell you before I touch anything of yours –“
“Really?! Like you told me before sleeping with Jude?!”
There it was, out in the open.
The burn of tears compelled Lola to close her eyes and she wished the bed would just swallow her whole.
“I didn’t sleep with him. We – I kissed him…I was drunk! I have hated myself since that night – done everything I could to make you forgive me…” Her voice disappeared with the suddenness of power failure.
“There are some things you can’t take back.” Bisi sounded like she had razor blades in her throat. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t find my purse. Who else could have taken it?”
“I didn’t take your purse.”
“Hey Bisi, you left this in my room…” Someone spoke from the door.
Both girls turned towards the voice. It was Bisi’s sister Dare, holding up a black felt purse.