The Road Home

by Erin Zak

  “I promise you’ll be fine.”

  “Okay.” But Lila is not convinced. Not one bit.

  Chapter Four

  “I know, I know, it’s been entirely too long.” Gwendolyn smiles at her mother’s friend Sabine as she lifts her bottle of lager. “I gotta say, though, I don’t really miss this humidity. My hair has this weird natural wave thing happening, and I do not like it.”

  “Oh, please, you look amazing. Exactly how you should look, considering your Hollywood roots now.”

  “Sabine, you’re too kind.” Gwendolyn laughs. She is trying so hard to stay sober, but every bone in her body is urging her to get drunk. She hates having to be responsible in front of these people she worked so hard to leave behind. The desire to go upstairs, take off the red wrap dress, and fall into bed until she has to leave in two days is so strong it’s causing her throat to ache. She knows none of that is an option, though, which only causes her to be more frustrated, more uncomfortable, and more eager to get drunk.

  “Darling, honestly, the Chicago Broadway scene is incredible these days. Have you considered going back to the stage?”

  Gwendolyn glances at Samantha, who thankfully, hasn’t left her side. Even though Samantha has already been propositioned by an old classmate, Travis, who can’t quite seem to keep his dick in his pants. “This one here thinks I should.”

  “It’d be amazing for you. I guarantee it.” Sabine pushes her black-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her hair, which matches the glasses, is perfectly coiffed, and her red lipstick is atrocious. The need to criticize is strong, and if Sabine wasn’t such a good friend of the family’s, she’d make fun of her behind her back.

  “Oh, look, I am being summoned by my mother.” Gwendolyn sighs. In any other circumstance, being pulled away from a conversation she doesn’t want to have would be a godsend. The feeling of impending doom is far from a godsend, though. As thankful as she should be, she’s actually on high alert. Maneuvering through the crowd, she says her hellos and how-are-yous to the important people as she passes. Most are so excited to see her, some are less than thrilled, more than likely assuming she’s a conceited movie star now. If only they knew the truth. She’ll never tell them, though. Not when she’d face more criticism than the critiques she was doling out in her head toward Sabine.

  Before she arrives at where her mother is standing, she glances at Samantha, who has fallen behind and is being accosted by aunts and uncles from both sides of the family. She should feel bad, but Samantha can handle herself. Instead, she feels abandoned. Samantha is supposed to be her life preserver this weekend, not have an amazingly good time on her own. Gwendolyn puts a lid on her irritation as she turns back to her mother, who is standing proudly next to her dad. She pulls up short before she gets to them, noticing her mother’s glowing smile.

  “Gwen, honey, I want you to meet—”

  Gwendolyn watches as her mother grabs a woman’s arm and swings her around. The impending doom is now simply doom. Coupled with pure unadulterated dread, the feeling is heavy in the pit of her stomach. Her oldest friend, the big green-eyed monster named Jealousy, is now alive and well, and unsurprisingly, he’s not happy at all.

  “Lila Machowicz,” her mother finishes, the same dazzling smile spread across her lips as before. For some reason, a memory manifests of when she was small and completely enamored with her mother’s beauty. Watching her put on makeup, curl the blond hair she passed to Gwendolyn, brush her teeth. She was the most beautiful person in Gwendolyn’s life. If only things were still simple. “This is my Gwendolyn.” Her mother’s tone is one typically reserved for pride, which, truth be told, shocks her. This is Lila Machowicz, after all. The second chance daughter who saved Carol Carter from a life of thinking she was as bad at mothering as her mother was.

  “Oh, hi,” Gwendolyn says, making sure to not extend her hand. She doesn’t want to feel Lila’s skin because she knows it will be soft and perfect, like the rest of her apparently is, according to every fucking person who knows her. Gwendolyn hates to sound dramatic, even though it is literally her forte, but Lila is breathtaking.

  Her hair is auburn, maybe even chestnut, and it’s cascading in loose curls around her face, down over her shoulders, and goddamn, how is it so shiny? Her eyes are brown, so dark they’re almost black, and her makeup is simple. She is one of the most striking women Gwendolyn has ever seen in her life. And almost instantly, she cannot stand her. She isn’t super thin, but she is clearly an athlete, which Gwendolyn knew already. She’s had to hear about Lila living in her house, staying in her bedroom, going on family vacations, coaching with her mother for the past decade. She suppresses an eye roll as she lifts her beer. She takes a much longer pull than she probably should, but she needs her old pal Jealousy to calm down. She also needs the drunk feeling she’s been chasing all evening even more now.

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Well, fuck. Even her voice is perfect. Gwendolyn wants to glare. How dare she even have a perfect voice? None of this is what she expected. The brief amount of stalking she did when Lila first came into her mother and dad’s life was not enough to prepare her for the woman Lila has grown into. “Yeah, same.” She knows she’s being a raging asshole, but she does not give a fuck. She makes a point of looking Lila up and down, takes in her dark blue skinny jeans, the black wedges, the tight mustard shirt, the black blazer with the sleeves rolled up, before she locks on to Lila’s dark eyes. “You’re the new me, hmm?”

  “Gwendolyn,” her mother says, her voice low. The “I mean business” voice is one of her most impressive tones. But again, she does not give a fuck.

  Actually, she doesn’t give a flying fuck.

  This bitch comes in here and steals my place? Nowhere does it state Gwendolyn has to be nice to a thief.

  Gwendolyn takes a step so she can exit this encounter. “Excuse me,” she says and waits a beat, two beats, before Lila finally gets the hint and moves to the side to let her pass. As she slips past, against her better judgment, she takes a deep breath and smells Lila’s perfume. She even smells amazing.

  Of course she does.

  Gwendolyn moves as fast as possible through the crowd, through the kitchen, to the back door. She pushes on the screen as hard as she can, and the door swings open, crashing into the vinyl siding with a bang. She rushes to the steps, flies down, and stops when she gets to the sidewalk. She wraps her arms around herself, nails digging into her triceps, trying to talk herself out of a breakdown. This was exactly why she didn’t want to come back to this godforsaken town.

  She didn’t want to deal with being a lesbian around her unsupportive mother. She didn’t want to explain to people why she still isn’t a mega superstar. She didn’t want to deal with her father’s wonderful way of being Switzerland. She didn’t want to meet Lila Machowicz who, without a doubt, took her place in her parents’ life. She does not want any part of it.

  She is happy in California, in the heat, in the smog, in the hustle and bustle of auditions and callbacks.

  She is happy.

  Except, maybe she isn’t. Because during the hustle and bustle of all the good, there is a lot of bad. There is no personal or emotional connection to anyone romantically. There is fear. Failure. Rejection.

  Well, maybe she isn’t completely happy. Failing and flailing don’t exactly make a person happy. But she, at the very least, knows she isn’t competing against someone she never had a chance to win against.

  Actually, even that’s not true. She’s always competing. Always up against perfection.

  Perfection is hard to beat.

  And Lila Machowicz is perfect.

  “Hey!”

  Gwendolyn hears Bella but can’t bring herself to move, to look over her shoulder, to anything. Finally, the sound of flats coming down the stairs makes her turn toward her childhood best friend. “Hey.”

  “Well, that went horribly.” Bella slides an arm around Gwendolyn’s waist and pats her hip lightly.
“Y’know, I was hoping you’d prove me right when I said you were nice, and Lila had nothing to worry about.”

  Gwendolyn chuckles, which feels good, as does Bella’s warmth during the cool June night. “I don’t know what got into me.”

  “Oh, I do.” Bella squeezes her and leans her head against Gwendolyn’s shoulder. “You’re jealous. You always have been.”

  “You know nothing.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “You wish you knew.”

  “Oh, but I do.”

  Gwendolyn takes a very deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Why does it bother me so much? I left…I’m the one who left the relationship. I’m the one who wanted nothing to do with my mother ever again. Me. She tried. And I said no.”

  Bella loosens her grip and gently tucks Gwendolyn’s hair behind her ears. “Because you miss having a mom, and it’s okay. Try to remember, Lila didn’t choose her situation. You don’t know her. At all.”

  “I don’t want to fucking know her, Bell.”

  “Well, tomorrow’s gonna be rough then.”

  “Oh God, what did you do?”

  Bella scrunches her face. “Um…I made a brunch reservation at Stacks.”

  “For who, Bell?” Gwendolyn can tell by the expression on her face that the reservation very much includes Lila. “You suck. You are the worst friend.”

  “Come on. Samantha came with you for moral support, and she left with Travis ten minutes ago. And I’m the worst friend?’

  Gwendolyn wishes she could be shocked by Samantha’s early exit, but she’s predictable. She shakes her head while chuckling. “You’re right. You’re the second worst friend.”

  “I’ll take it.” Bella squeezes her shoulder gently. “Let’s go back inside, please? Your mom has been affected by your storm out.”

  “Shocking.”

  “Come on.”

  Gwendolyn turns with gentle prodding, and Bella’s arm slips through the crook of hers. She doesn’t want to be the bigger person, but she knows she needs to put on a happy face and make it through the evening. Maybe she will be able to fake an illness in the morning and not have to go to brunch.

  * * *

  Well, talk about a total fucking train wreck.

  Lila is a hot mess, her stomach in knots, and she honestly may vomit. Everything about meeting Gwendolyn was horrifying. And Gwendolyn’s reaction and attitude were the cherries on top. Carol, bless her heart, tried her best to smooth it over with a gentle hand to the back and an apology, but it wasn’t Carol’s fault her daughter is an awful, mean person. She wants to find Bella and tell her she is one hundred percent wrong about Gwendolyn being nice. She is definitely not nice. At all.

  Well…she is nice looking. But that is it.

  Fuck, who is she trying to kid? Gwendolyn is dazzling in a swoon worthy way Lila isn’t sure she’s ever experienced before. She’s only ever read about it. But the second she laid eyes on Gwendolyn, she knew meeting her was going to take her breath away. She tried to observe her from a distance without being creepy and obvious, but it was hard to look away. Her hand movements while she spoke to all the partygoers, her lovely profile, the red dress. Lila isn’t stupid. She knew what was happening in her body.

  This, the increased heart rate, the clammy hands, the fire in the core of her stomach, this is attraction.

  Plain and simple.

  And being attracted to someone like Gwendolyn Carter is not only a recipe for disaster, it is also insanely impractical.

  When she swung around and was face-to-face with this woman she’d put on a pedestal but also sort of hated, it was disconcerting, to say the least. There Gwendolyn stood. Right in front of her. With no warning whatsoever. When she first arrived at the party, she thought maybe she would escape the dreaded meeting. The next second, she was being pulled down a rabbit hole she never wanted to go down. Gwendolyn’s wavy blond hair and sea-blue eyes and flawless complexion and the line of her neck were the only things to break her fall.

  This strange mixture of desire and disgust has no real reason to exist. Growing up, she was never pitted against Gwendolyn. She was always encouraged and supported by Carol and David. Never once did they compare her. She is the one who started to compare herself to a person she had no idea about, no stories about, no anything about. She is the one who let it get out of control. All of the comparisons added up, and now she is so small and unnecessary next to all five feet and nine inches of Gwendolyn Carter. The very thought of Gwendolyn being back in Vale Park has Lila practically digging her own grave. She’s jumping to conclusions and letting her insecurities make her feel as if her contribution to her weird little family unit is insignificant.

  But she is insignificant when compared to a famous actress. Oh yes, she’s done her research. Numerous times. So many, in fact, the Google search bar auto fills Gwendolyn Carter as soon as Lila types G-W. She could have found any number of pictures in the spare room at the Carter’s home, but they weren’t current enough. High school Gwendolyn was pretty, but grown-up movie star Gwendolyn is on another level.

  Lila also knows it’s pointless to find everything about Gwendolyn intriguing. Yet she does, and she works to hide the truth as deep down as she can because no way will she let anyone know her true feelings about Gwendolyn, whose beauty means nothing when her soul seems dark as night.

  Lila catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror after she washes and dries her hands. She is shocked by how sad she looks, how out of sorts she feels, and how the scar she got from skateboarding as a teenager on the left side of her upper lip looks so deep and angry in this lighting. She hates the scar, hates the bad attitude behind it, hates the way it reminds her of a time when she was a fucking mess.

  She folds the towel and places it over the rung next to the sink. She pulls in a deep breath, takes a final look at her reflection, then turns to the door. When she swings it open, all the breath leaves her body as she’s met head-on by none other than Gwendolyn fucking Carter.

  “Holy cow!” Lila is much louder than she intended. She hates when she’s nervous because nerves cause her to be loud. Of fucking course. She rolls her eyes and forces herself to smile. “I’m sorry.”

  “About what?” Gwendolyn takes a step, clearly trying to squeeze around and slip into the bathroom. She must want to escape as badly as Lila does.

  “Nothing.” Lila sighs, goes to move, then thinks twice. “Look—”

  “We do not need to have a conversation.” Gwendolyn steps back, stands straight as an arrow, shoulders pulled back, and pushes her hand through her hair. The way her hair falls, the waves and waves as she flips it over her shoulder, is something Lila wishes she didn’t find so damn attractive. Her eyes are so blue in the moment, almost shockingly so, and her skillfully applied eyeliner is causing Lila’s knees to practically buckle. She feels herself softening, her resolve, her heart, her everything, and nothing has happened to provoke the softening.

  “Actually, I think we do.”

  “I don’t care what you think.” Gwendolyn starts to walk away, and for some earthly reason she cannot even begin to understand, Lila grabs her wrist. She holds it gently, making sure to not be rough. She is positive she can feel Gwendolyn’s pulse, and it causes something in the pit of her stomach to stir.

  Lila drops her arm and watches as her other hand covers the spot from seconds earlier. Her skin is golden brown, and the way it looks against her red dress is appealing in a way Lila never wanted. “I didn’t mean to…” Gwendolyn’s eyes are locked on hers, so Lila takes a breath and smiles. “Your mother loves you so much.”

  Gwendolyn lets out a laugh so loud it echoes into the bathroom. “You’re nuts.”

  “I’ve been told that a time or two,” Lila says softly, followed by a shrug. “I never took your place. You need to know that.”

  “Yeah, again, we do not need to have a conversation.” Gwendolyn backs a couple steps away. “And I’m never having that conversation with you. So…” She shrugs, hands tur
ned upward. “Keep being perfect. I’m sure Carol loves it.” She gives a thumbs-up, turns, and walks away, leaving Lila completely flabbergasted.

  * * *

  The partygoers have finally cleared out, leaving behind a horrible mess. Thankfully, Bella’s party planning business also includes a cleanup service because the last thing Gwendolyn wants to do is help tidy the house.

  She removed herself from the party after the conversation with Lila. There was no need to continue being in a place she should have felt at home in but felt completely the opposite. Her home is no longer hers, and it is obvious. Blatantly so. The minute the uncomfortable feeling took root in her stomach, she found a way out of the space. The only problem is, she has to stay the night there. Or at least she hasn’t tried to find another place. Bella was too busy for the rest of the evening to beg, and her other “friends” would make her feel as out of place.

  Is it leaving and living somewhere else for so many years which makes her feel this way? Or is it the fact that she has been replaced by Lila Machowicz? Even though Lila stressed the opposite, Gwendolyn can feel it deep inside: Lila was lying. And unconvincingly. Gwendolyn has eyes, after all. She can see the way Carol looks at Lila, the eyes of a doting mother. Watching them interact is too much.

  The most frustrating part is Gwendolyn didn’t really expect to feel this way. She thought she might feel a slight twinge of jealousy, but the self-loathing is not at all what she prepared for. She is positive the growing seed of hatred inside her will eventually crack her open and unleash a horrible beast. And what is even worse than a horrible beast will be the urge to not control him and to let him run rampant through the lives of her so-called loved ones.