Blair was waiting for her when she left the bathroom.
Her aunt put her arm around her as they left the
hospital
roo
m, offering wordless support. It was a kind gesture.
12
Blair’s car was a
white
Chevrolet Cavalier that was spotless and smelled like
mint
. The ride was quiet, low music playing from the radio.
Her aunt apparently liked country music.
She hummed along to the song.
Her house was on the other side of town from Lola’s. It was a two-story red house with white trim. It made Lola think of candy canes
and Christmas
. There was a porch with white wicker chairs. Purple and pink flowers bloomed around the house.
A large tree stood in the yard, tall and proud.
Lola
instantly fell in love with the house and
the
yard. It was well-kept and homey.
It was a house Lola would have liked to live in. She paused at that. She
would
be living there.
At least temporarily.
It felt like a betrayal to her mother to look forward to call
ing
such a place home; to be glad to be away from hers.
Lola felt such
relief
knowing she didn’t have to go back there.
Again she felt bad.
Bitterness slammed away the guilt. None of this would be happening if not for
Bob
; none of this would be happening if her mother had been stronger, if
Lola
had meant more to her mother than some
ridiculous excuse for a man
.
“Lola? Coming?”
Lola shook her head and followed her aunt up the
porch
steps and through the door.
The entryway was open and spacious
and smelled like
vanilla
. To the left was the kitchen and to the right the living room. The walls were creamy white and filled with framed photographs of scenery and people
, some animals
.
Lola walked over to one, touched
in some inexplicable way
by the black and white photo of a curly-haired girl with a serious expression on her face, her striking blue eyes the only color in the picture.
“Like it?”
Lola jumped at the sound of Blair’s voice, so close t
o her.
She nodded, backed away.
“I’m a freelance photographer in my spare time.”
She glanced at her aunt, impressed.
Lola tried to remember hobbies of her mother’s; talents she once used faded away
over time
like her smile.
Disturbingly, she couldn’t think of any.
“Come on. I’ll show you your room and introduce you to Piper and Larry.”
Blair touched her arm and gestured toward the living room.
The living room was large and again had creamy white walls. There was a bay window that l
ooked out onto the street.
It was lovely. Lola could see herself sitting in the bay window, her writing on her lap.
The furniture was navy blue, the curtains blue and tan striped.
A Bose entertainment system
and a large flat screen television
took
up a good portion of the wall.
Awed by the beauty captured in each photo Lola’s eyed grazed, her respect for her aunt grew and Lola found she wanted to know more about her.
A staircase along the back wall of the room led to the second floor.
At the top of the stairs was a long hallway
with open doors going down it
. The first
room
was a bathroom, the second Blair’s office. At the end of the halls were two bedrooms.
“Here it is.
Your room.”
Blair walked in and turned toward Lola
, face expectant
.
Lola stepped inside, lump in throat. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. And it was.
The walls were mauve and cream striped, the king-sized bed canopied and a lilac quilt over it.
The floors were wood, an abundance of windows allowed sunlight in. The ceiling was vaulted. Two dressers stood side by side along one of the walls; a desk and chair
resided
between
a set of
windows.
Lola thought of
the
room she and her mother had painstakingly decorated
and longing swept over her. She blinked her eyes and averted her face from her aunt’s probing gaze.
“Are you okay?”
No.
“I’m fine.”
Blair fidgeted. “Well. Um…I’ll let you get settled in.
Unless you’re hungry?
Thirsty?”
“No.”
She looked like she wanted to say more, but wit
h a resigned nod, her aunt left.
Lola
stared at her meager belongings consisting of one
duffel bag
and whatever was inside it
.
She unzipped
the bag
and removed the clothes and toiletries.
She
froze
. At the bottom of the bag was a thick
purple
folder.
Her eyes began to tear up. Pain closed her throat. It was her writing. Her
mother had somehow known
about it and had made sure she had it.
Lola
didn’t think she knew.
She
sat on the bed, teardrops wetting the folder in her lap.
*
**
Lola awoke to two lumps of furry warmth; one
near
her head, the other by her feet
.
For a disoriented
moment
she
was back to the night before and it was
Bob
on top of her. F
ear choked her throat.
Then
Lola remembered where she was.
She sat up and stared down at a large black cat. He blinked up at her with lime green eyes. Lola
looked toward her feet
and an equally large orange tiger cat meowed at her.
“
Piper and Larry
, I presume
,” she mumbled, yawning.
The black one jumped down, grunting as his stomach hit the floor on the descent. The orange tiger meowed again and ru
bbed his head against Lola’s feet
.
Lola stroked his silky fur.
“You’re a cuddle bug, aren’t you? I bet you’re Larry.”
A knock on the door announced Blair’s presence. She smiled and leaned against the door
, arms crossed
. “That would be Larry, yes. Piper’s a little more standoffish.
Larry likes
you.”
She
shrugged
,
eyes down
cast
.
“I made some lunch. I wasn’t sure what you liked so I made tuna salad
and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
Lola couldn’t remember the last time someone had prepared a meal for her
and
discomfort
pierced her chest.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Come on.” Blair held out a hand. “You have yet to see the kitchen.
”
Lola got up and looked at the hand offered.
Small acts of kindness had a tremendous impact on her as she’d received them so fleetingly
in
the last year
.
She gripped her aunt’s hand and Blair’s hand enclosed around hers, anchoring Lola to her as they walked down the hall.
The kitchen had black and white checkered walls, which of course Lola stared at
; r
ed appliances and wood flooring. The countertops were black and white swirled marble. There was a table by a row of wall-length windows, an island with four barstools.
It was the most awesome kitchen Lola had ever seen.
“Do you like it?”
Lola turned in a slow circle. “Yeah,” she breathed. “I like it.”
Blair
laughed,
a tinkling
sound
of joy. “Good. I spend a lot of time in here. I love cooking and baking.
I’m not very good at it, but I have fun with it.
Have a seat.”
Her aunt
motioned to the table.
She sat down and
Blair brought over a platter fu
ll of sandwiches cut in halves.
“Help yourself. What would you like to drink?
Water, tea, milk?”
Lola reached for a peanut butter and jelly half
sandwich
. “Water is fine. Thank you.”
She took a bite, savoring the gooey goodness. It had been ages since she’d enjoyed a PB and J.
Or any kind of food for that matter.
After a few small bites, Lola’s stomach revolted, and she set the sandwich down.
“What’s wrong?””
“Nothing.
My stomach gets upset a lot.”
Blair swallowed and put her tuna salad sandwich down. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Lola’s eyes pricked as she s
aw the caring in her aunt’s
. “What was my father like?”
A smile softened her features. “He was a wonderful man, Lola, the best. I wish you could have known him longer.
”
“
I don’t remember him at all.
I wish I did.
My mom says he was a good man.”
“He was.” Their gazes
locked.
Lola pushed her glass of water back and forth
between her hands
. “I have a hard time taking my mother’s word for it, given her current husband.”
Blair got up and took the seat closest to Lola. She reached over and gripped Lola’s hand. “I’m so sorry you had to go through such horrible things, Lola. I…” She stopped, shook her head.
“You what?”
Her smile wobbled. “I just wish I could have been there for you. I wanted to be.”
Lola pulled her hand away. “Then why weren’t you? You’ve been in town almost as long as
us
. I’ve seen you around town throughout the years.
You’ve even checked out in my lane at
at
work.
You never once said anything to me, never gave me any idea you were my aunt.
My father’s sister
.
Why?”
Blair didn’t speak for a long time. When she did, her voice was low, stricken. “When your father died, something happened to your mother, Lola. She just kind of…lost touch with reality.
“
You were so sad, so confused about everything. You didn’t understand any of it; your father no longer being around, your mother’s indifference. I saw what it was doing to you.
You needed your mother and she…it was so hard on her. It was too much.
“I offered to take you, to have you stay with me, just until your mother got better.” She took a shaky breath.
“Lana lashed out at me, went hysterical. She thought I wanted to steal you away from her. She’
d just lost
your dad and I suppose the thought of not
having you
around was too unbearable for her, even if she couldn’t give you proper care.
It didn’t matter to her. She wanted you with her, even if it was in your best interest not to be.