Almost Crimson by Dasha Kelly Page A

mean?”
    Brian looked to Doris, so CeCe did, too. Her friend’s eyes were wide with anticipation and her bright berry lips were pursed together. CeCe could see her friend wanted to explode.
    â€œI’ve known some pretty amazing women in my life,” Doris said with a deep breath. Her hands were clasped together in front of her chest, like prayer. “In big ways and small ways, I wouldn’t have been able to finally make the life I wanted for myself without them.”
    CeCe waited for another story about the Ladies, but Doris stepped forward and took CeCe’s face in her hands. Doris had never positioned herself as a mother figure for CeCe, but they both had cherished the obvious opportunity for their friendship to fill aching spaces: Doris’ miscarried baby girl so many years ago and CeCe’s miscarried childhood. Doris’ hands were soft and warm, like her eyes. CeCe didn’t know why, but she wanted to cry.
    â€œYou’re one of those amazing women, kiddo,” Doris said, her voice plush and sweet. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and a great heart in your chest. From the first day I met you, I knew I was going to like you.”
    CeCe’s tears began to brim. So much love they’d harvested in that food court. Doris had given her advice and confidence and reality checks and courage. She was humbled to know Doris had seen a fighter in her all along. Doris smiled at her and used her thumbs to wipe away her tears.
    â€œWhen Doris called me about revising her will,” Brian’s voice broke in and the women took a step back, “naturally, I introduced a number of options for her properties. Her boys. Area nonprofits. We even talked about making it a free residence for college kids working at the mall through the summer.”
    CeCe frowned at the idea of keg parties spiraling out of control in Doris’ back yard.
    â€œDoris reminded me this is more than a house,” Brian continued. “This home is the icon for freedom and success.”
    â€œGood God, Brian, you sound like you’re delivering the Ten Commandments,” Doris said. “Move, smarty-pants.”
    Brian dropped his head to hide a blush as Doris elbowed past him to take CeCe’s hands again. Her eyes were soft and proud.
    â€œOn the outside, we don’t have much in common, you and me,” Doris said. “You know what’s the same about us?”
    CeCe shook her head.
    â€œWe’re good-hearted people patiently waiting our turn for a little good luck, right?” CeCe turned it over in her head and conceded a nod and sideways smile. Doris tugged at their hands and pulled CeCe closer. Her expression turned serious.
    â€œThe other thing we have in common is that we never learned how to dream. I was never allowed to and you never had the luxury. Nothing like magic or good luck had ever blown our way before.”
    Doris clasped their hands together and pressed the knot of their fingers to her chest. CeCe was pulled off balance, startled by Doris’ strength. She looked at her friend with confused anticipation, ready for another gut buster. The women stood eye to eye at five-foot-one, and Doris’ eyes shone with tears and affection.
    â€œI want you to have this house, CeCe,” Doris said. “Have it. No money and no strings. Just some lucky magic to help you see that you are greater than your circumstances. You are stronger than the things in life that have made you afraid.”
    CeCe snatched her hands from Doris’ grasp to try and catch the squeal rocketing from her throat. She couldn’t believe the sounds her ears were taking in. Did Doris say she was giving her a house? A whole house?
    â€œYou could put the universe in your handbag, if you wanted to,” Doris said, her eyes electric now, “but, kiddo, you gotta learn how to dream. You deserve to learn.”
    CeCe looked from Doris to Brian in disbelief and then