The Fresh Start

** 3 - Settling in **

With breakfast over, I left Donna watching TV and started unpacking the car. The fresh air and sounds of birds chirping outside provided a peaceful backdrop.

As I carried my bags upstairs, I noticed the landing with its large window overlooking the backyard, flooding the space with natural light. The bedrooms branched off from the landing, each with its own unique character.

Zoe's room, calm and blue with dark wood finishes, offered a serene escape. Donna's room, filled with teddy bears and frilly pink decor, was a stark contrast.

My own room, with its light curtains and empty cupboards, stood as a blank canvas, begging for my personal touch.

I unwrapped the last of my belongings, the crinkling paper filling the silence. My graduation photo emerged, Mom and Dad's faces lighting up with pride. I ran my thumb over the frame, the smooth surface comforting.

"I did it, guys," I whispered, remembering that day. They'd been so happy for me, beaming in the sunlight. Tears pricked at my eyes thinking about what they'd say now – about me starting fresh, leaving Terry behind.

"They'd be proud," I told myself, the words echoing in my empty room. "Not just because I'm doing something new, but because I'm doing it for me." Their love had always been unconditional.

I placed the frame beside me, feeling a deep connection. The sunlight streaming through the window highlighted the dust motes dancing around it. I smiled, a mix of sadness and hope.

"I guess I'm home now," I whispered.

Later, in the midst of our morning chaos, I realized I'd forgotten to dress Donna. She stood before me, pyjama-clad and defiant, her curly hair tangled from sleep. "I want to do it myself!" she declared, crossing her arms.

I chuckled. "Okay, but do you need help with the buttons?"

Donna shook her head vigorously. "No!" Her tiny fingers fumbled with the buttons, struggling to undo them.

I watched patiently, admiring her persistence, "Maybe just a little help?"

Donna's determination began to waver, but she still refused. "No, I can do it!"

I smiled and stepped back, letting her continue her struggle.

Finally, Donna managed to free herself from the pyjama top and changed into her everyday clothes, beaming with pride. She chose a bright yellow dress with white flowers, her favourite.

"Great job, Donna!" I praised then asked, "What are we doing next?"

"I want to play piano!" Donna exclaimed, her eyes shining as she pulled me downstairs.

On the stairs, I glanced at the family photos. Zoe, Donna, and her dad smiled in each picture. It was hard not to think about what they'd lost.

But Donna's excitement quickly distracted me. She climbed onto the piano stool, her face shining. "Mrs. Jenkins taught me a new song yesterday!"

"Ooh, let's hear it!" I encouraged.

Donna nodded seriously. "I need to practice it five times a day." She took a deep breath and began to play.

At first, her fingers stumbled over the keys, and she made a few mistakes. She scrunched up her face in concentration.

"That's okay, Donna! Keep going," I urged.

Donna tried again, her determination evident. Slowly but surely, her playing improved with each attempt.

On the fifth try, she played the sequence flawlessly, beaming with pride. "I did it!"

I applauded. "That was amazing, Donna! Mrs. Jenkins will be so proud."

Donna grinned, then suddenly lost interest. "I want to play with my dolls now!" She hopped off the stool and ran to the playroom.

I chuckled. "Okay, practice is over for today!"

"Time for lunch, Donna!" I called out.

Donna skipped back into the kitchen, her dolls temporarily abandoned. "What are we making?" she asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

I opened the fridge, scanning the contents. Takeaway containers piled up, evidence of Zoe's busy schedule. "Let's make something from scratch."

I rummaged through the cupboards, searching for flour. "Ah-ha!" I exclaimed, finding a dusty bag tucked in the back. "Looks like this hasn't been used in a while."

Donna observed, "Mommy's always working, not cooking."

I smiled, wanting to change the subject. "Well, today we're going to make our own pizza! Let's find a recipe."

Donna's face brightened.

Donna watched as I pulled out a pizza recipe book. "This recipe makes two extra-large pizzas, but we only need one. Can you help me halve the ingredients?"

Donna's eyes lit up. "So, we need half of 500g of flour?" she asked.

"Exactly! How much would that be?" I asked.

Donna calculated quickly. "250g!"

I smiled, impressed. "That's right!"

As we mixed and kneaded the dough, Donna helped measure out the toppings.

Later, when we needed to divide the dough into equal parts for mini pizzas, Donna suggested, "We can divide it into 4 or 6 parts. Which one do you think?"

Donna put four fingers in the air eagerly.

I grinned. "Let's make 4 mini pizzas. Can you divide 400g of dough into 4 equal parts?"

Donna calculated quickly. "That's 100g each!"

I smiled down at her. "Well done, Donna!"

My expression turned thoughtful as I returned to spreading the tomato sauce. Donna's math skills were impressive for her age. I made a mental note to remember this when tutoring starts.

As we waited for the pizza to cook, Donna danced around the kitchen, singing "Pizza, pizza, almost done!"

I chuckled and set the timer. "Just 10 more minutes, Donna."

Donna climbed onto a stool, watching the oven window. "I see cheese melting!" she exclaimed.

The timer beeped, and I took the pizzas out. "Time to slice and serve!"

Donna beamed. "Best pizza ever!"

We finished our pizza and settled in for a cozy afternoon. Time slipped away as Donna chattered, played, and laughed beside me.

As the sunbeams streaming through the windows grew longer, my thoughts began to wander.

Terry's guilty face and Annette's shock flashed before me. My fingers instinctively touched the faint scar on my neck, a reminder of the shattered necklace and promises.

Memories of feverish kisses, whispered apologies, and lies flooded me. The words "You're a prude" stung anew, stirring nausea and heartache.

Donna's giggle pierced the darkness, and I forced a smile. Grateful for this new life, I pushed the memories away.

"Donna, Sabrina," Zoe's voice called from downstairs, "I'm home!"