My heart beat in my throat. My shoulders tensed. I stood quietly listening to the last resonating ding-dong of the bell. I listened closer. A door shut in the distance. The sound of footsteps increased. The wooden door in front of me opened. My blood cooled another degree.
ding-dong “Jessie.” Paula’s cold voice showered me. I had mentally prepared myself to expect animosity. Not true. I prepared myself for the worst welcome back I could think of: disdain, anger, passive-aggressiveness, even hate.
Paula looked surprisingly well. Maybe she put on a different shade of foundation to make her look healthier. She wore an orange skirt with a matching orange-and- white-striped sleeveless top. The orange was so bright that she reminded me of a street cone. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
