There is nothing Cruella Deville loves more than a stark opposition, and based on the headache forming behind my eyes, I’d say she achieved it.
“How would I know where to keep them? Invest in a warehouse and store them there.I don’t care how you do it, just get it done!”
She throws her phone down on the table, cheeks pink with the aftermath of her temper.
“Un-fucking believable.” Huffing angrily, she shoves her hands into red gloves and pulls the sleeves up to her elbows, “I try to do something charitable and they can’t even organize the stupid thing.”
A pretty black woman is standing next to the kitchen table, her elegant pencil skirt and soft composure no match for the hurricane stomping around the room.
“I am sure they are trying their best, ma’am.”
“Well, it’s about time they try harder! What do I look like to you? A fucking charity case?!” Flapping her hands wildly, my mother fumbles through her pockets in search of her cigarette case, “And so help me God, if you call me ma’am one more time…”
“Ma… I mean, Cruella.” Sucking in a breath, the woman straightens her blouse with a determined nod, “Before I depart today, I need you to sign the adoption forms.”
“Adoption? This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
The sound of my voice has Cruella’s eyes pinching shut, her head tilting back to mutter a curse at the ceiling.
“Just what I need, my estranged son coming to ruin my day… What do you want, Christopher?”
Wandering over to the row of unused appliances, I pull out the kettle.
“Am I not allowed to visit my mum?”
“Not when she’s busy.”
“Ah. So just like old times then.” Turning on the faucet, I run the kettle under water, “Glad to see nothing’s changed.”
The sound of a lighter clicks on and off.
“Anita, darling, would you give us some space?”
“But the forms-
“Can wait.” Heaving a sigh, Cruella adjusts the shawl wrapped around her shoulders and pulls out a chair, “Tell the shelter to start tagging the puppies. I’ll see that they’re gone by the end of the week.”
Anita scribbles something before nodding, “I’ll ensure it’s done, ma’am.”
A scowl and a gloved hand waves her off, “It’s Cruella. Now, get out of my sight.”
I watch Anita scurry away with a slight tremble in her step.
“It’s astounding people are still willing to work for you when you treat them like that.”
She sighs, brushing the wrinkles free from her dress before taking a seat.
“Pour me a cup of tea before you start the lecture. It’s been a trying day.”
Steam trickles out of the kettle, the high-pitch squeal fading to a dull wheeze when I lift it off the stove.
“I’d say. Since when are you in the market for a pet?”
“They’re not for me.” She accepts the mug with a nod of thanks, “They’re for my image. My last fashion show was deemeddevastatingly cruel to those who walk on four legs.Ridiculous statement considering I don’t butcher the animals myself. I pay someone else to do the ghastly work for me.”
Keeping my tongue in check, I bite back a grin, “And I suppose that title did not sit well with you?”
She huffs, “I couldn’t care less about the title. It’s my brand that’s taking the hit. Suddenly all my support groups are transitioning to fashion icons who push an environmentally friendlyimage or some shit like that.”
