The Donut Shop ✔️

'W' Stands for 'Wild Arguments'

When Ethan heard the sharp click-clicking of heels on the unpolished floor and the glare from a pair of chic sunglasses, he knew that she had arrived. Mrs. Heifenmeir's daughter came in like a hurricane to an already torrential day, and once the boys and Mara spotted her, they all did double-takes. 

She was dressed from head to toe in a gray, plaid pantsuit that seemed to emphasize her height. Her hair was slicked down with gel so that it framed her face like a neat bird's nest. Her lips were also painted with the brightest red, more vibrantly colored than a firetruck.

"She even has the haircut," Ethan whispered to Tweed, who was still staring at the woman in shock. She tried to flip her hair dramatically across her face, but instead, the action just ruffled it. Mara was also staring at her in shock but was hitting Tweed's leg while doing so.

"M-Mrs. Jones?" Ethan stuttered, and someone could be mistaken into thinking it was him, not his sister, that possessed a stutter. 

"Speaking. Where's my mother?" she curtly asked with a raised eyebrow, and for the first time, she slid off her glasses to reveal some of the most intimidating blue eyes that Ethan had ever seen. They were like crystal orbs that saw directly into the future of anyone who stared into them, a future that guaranteed death at best.

"Ah, yes, see, about that..." Tweed cut in, gliding in front of Mrs. Jones in his suave manner that could charm the pants off of even the roughest of ruffians. Mrs. Jones did not budge or even bat an eye.

"What about her?" the woman asked, her heels clicking to a stop as she swiveled to turn to Ethan and Mara, who were still seated against the wall.

"I asked you a question," she coldly repeated, and Ethan stood up, his hands clammy and beginning to shake as he faced her.

"She's not here. But we can take you to her, right, Tweed?" He emphasized his friend's name in an attempt to get him to reign in their wild card, but before he even opened his mouth, he was cut across by another voice.

"No need. I'm right here," Mrs. Heifenmeir said, meandering in from behind the curtain in the back. All of their expressions, except Mrs. Jones's, of course, stared at her with astonishment. 

"Mother," the woman greeted her with a small nod, but even her attempt at friendliness was thinly veiled, and she seemed to be trying her hardest to avoid showing the slight snub of her nose to her mother.

"Karen," Mrs. Heifenmeir greeted the woman in an equally aloof manner, and for the first time throughout this whole interaction, Ethan observed exactly how similar the color of their eyes were, almost like twin flames.

"Come to talk about your fancy new family and city life?" Mrs. Heifenmeir asked her daughter, who only set down her leather bag and shrugged off her blazer as if she was gearing up for a fight. 

"Actually, your rascals over there called me and told me you were sick," Karen said as if she hated the way the words tasted in her mouth. 

Mrs. Heifenmeir leaned her arm across the counter, but her harsh eyes softened into dull resentment. "Good to know you still care," she said. The feeling of animosity dissolved from the air, replaced by something that appeared like congeniality, but in a more formal and awkward expression.

"You think because I got married and moved to the city that I don't care about you anymore?" Karen asked in a more quiet tone, trying to avoid the prying ears of Ethan and crew. Mrs. Heifenmeir scoffed at this, tutting with her teeth.

"You left right after your father died."

"I had to. This job offer was something I couldn't get anywhere else, especially not in some ghost town!" Karen said, her voice taking on a shrill tone. She was clearly waiting for this moment, to say these exact words and hear her mother try to justify herself. Mrs. Heifenmeir just shook her head and slapped the rag in her hand on the counter.