by T. I. Lowe
He gave her a sidelong glance and shrugged. “I’ve always stayed to help her out during any storm for as long as I can remember.”
“But why?”
“For one thing, it was actually stated in my parents’ will to always take care of her.” Before she could say anything, he added, “Both my parents have passed away. Can we just leave it at that?” He looked away with a bit of uneasiness.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It just hurts too much to talk about it.” They sat in silence for a few moments, studying the fire, before Crowley continued. “I genuinely love Lulu. I’m a blessed man that God saw fit to give me two mommas. My momma and Lulu were best friends. Lulu had no children of her own, so Momma always shared me. I see it as an honor to fulfill my parents’ wish, but I would have done it regardless.” Crowley smiled somberly and met Leah’s gaze as she shook her head. “What?”
“How can you be born so good when some men are born so bad?”
“I have my moments, Lee.” He stood and stretched before tossing a few more logs onto the fire.
“Not evil ones,” Leah said quietly.
Crowley looked over his shoulder at her for a moment and then went back to tending to the fire. “I guess it comes down to the choices you make.” He shrugged. “I’ve worked on some criminal cases where I thought I was fighting the devil himself. All I know is that drugs, alcohol, or childhood abuse typically plays a big factor in crime. A lot of consequences can come from one bad choice.” He rejoined her on the couch, propped his socked feet up on the coffee table, and leaned his head against the couch.
“Tell me about your New Year’s Eve date.” Leah wanted to change the subject, and she just couldn’t resist teasing him with this topic.
Crowley closed his eyes and shook his head. “Next subject.”
“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad.” Leah nudged him in the side with her foot. “I guarantee I had a worse New Year’s than you.”
Crowley turned his head and opened his eyes to meet Leah’s. “I would have rather been burning up with fever.”
“You’re full of it.”
“Look, I love Ana as a sister. Sometimes she takes my brotherly love and tries to make it into something more.” He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a long sigh. “And the party was a total bust. I spent the entire night keeping idiots in line as she showed off in front of them all. Instead of looking like the protective brother, I looked like the super-jealous boyfriend.”
“Why not love her more?” Leah asked.
“I tried for a while, but it just felt wrong. You can’t help who you fall in love with, or not.”
“You’re right.” Images of Brent flashed through Leah’s head, with the last one being him motionless on their bloody bed. She shivered.
“Next subject?” Crowley arched an eyebrow and smiled when Leah nodded in agreement.
The next few hours passed by with them rambling through various topics, steering clear of any serious ones. They debated what soup they would beg Lulu to make the next day. Crowley wanted chili, but Leah thought vegetable soup would be better. They teased each other about who Lulu liked the most between them.
A little after midnight, Crowley’s eyes shut as he dozed off midsentence. He had been telling her all about his ideas for the next youth fishing tournament. She watched him for a while, wondering if he would rouse back up and finish his sentence. But his bottom lip puckered out, making him look like a youth himself, so she decided he was out for the count. Leah eventually dozed off too.
Lulu came downstairs at sunrise and found her two guests snuggled in quilts on opposite ends of her couch. She didn’t know if she was supposed to like that or not, but chose to like it. She was relieved Crowley was finally warming up to Leah.
A hot breakfast of grits, eggs, and turkey sausage encouraged the sleepyheads off the couch by midmorning. After eating and helping Lulu clean, the trio spent most of the day playing board games and snuggling up in quilts by the fire. Lulu was amused at how the two “young’uns,” as she referred to Crowley and Leah, teased and bickered like siblings would.
They both had different requests for supper, saying Lulu would fix her favorite person’s request, and she did just that. Lulu began prepping the ingredients for chili, making Crowley whoop in victory over Leah, until Lulu started a second pot for the vegetable soup. Leah doubled over in laughter and stated that Crowley was no longer the only favorite Lulu had. Lulu loved her house filled with young banter and laughter. This was how her house was always meant to be, and she was happy that it was finally happening.
Later that night, Crowley bundled up and said he was going to check things out. He stopped by the closet and pulled out the box he had tucked away and took it with him. The two ladies were in the kitchen, heating water for coffee, when the first set of booms sliced through the silent night. They rushed to the back door just in time to see the night sky burst into a rainbow of sparkles. They spotted Crowley, crouched down by the deck, lighting fireworks and aiming them up over the river.
Lulu pulled the door open to holler at him. “Are you crazy?”
He stood with a mischievous grin on his face. “No, ma’am. Lee missed her fireworks show, and I’m just being the gentleman you raised me to be, trying to make it up to her.” He crouched down to get back to work. “Now close that door before she gets sick again,” he ordered.
Lulu huffed at being told what to do but listened. The two ladies grabbed dining chairs and planted themselves in front of the French doors in the living room to enjoy the show. Crowley lit the sky up in a continuous procession of flamboyant bursts for the better part of the next hour, before coming in and placing a light icy kiss on Lulu’s cheek. He then did the same to Leah, causing her to shiver at his cold yet soft lips. “Happy New Year, Lee,” he whispered before planting himself in front of the fireplace to unthaw.
“Thank you.” She smiled after regaining her composure.
Trying to hide her grin, Lulu didn’t miss how the young woman had become flustered, or the lingering kiss that caused it.
The following day, the ice melted, the electricity was restored, and Leah and Crowley moved back to their own homes. Even though Lulu’s house emptied of her family, her home stayed warm and cozy with the memories made and the ones to come. She was quite hopeful about it and went ahead and whispered a prayer of thanks.
15
MID-JANUARY CREPT UP on Leah at an unforgiving rate. She did everything to repress it, to avoid it, to forget it, but nothing could wash away the knowing from her mind. Her expected due date showed up on a frustrated Saturday, empty-handed.
She asked Lulu after closing on Friday if she could spend her Saturday shift on kitchen duty.
“What for?” Lulu asked, distracted by slicing fruit. When Leah didn’t answer right away, Lulu put the knife down and turned to give Leah her full attention. “You need tomorrow off?”
Leah cleared her throat. “No. I need the distraction of work. I just don’t think I’ll be up for customers.”
Lulu nodded. “Tomorrow is very significant,” she guessed.
Leah batted away an escaped tear and whispered, “It was supposed to be.”
“The kitchen it is.” Lulu wiped her hands on her apron as she crossed the kitchen and gave Leah a much-needed hug. Moments later the tumbling of the door locks had both women glancing that way. She patted Leah’s back and released her. “Crowley’s here. Why don’t you head on upstairs?”
Nodding, Leah mumbled as she walked to the stairs, “Why’d you let him have a key?”
“I didn’t really have a choice.” Lulu chuckled.
Leah took the stairs two at a time, without replying to Lulu’s comment. She had no desire to let Crowley see her in another hot mess. She had not seen him but in passing since the ice storm. Lulu mentioned that the high-profile divorce case had kept him quite busy. He even had to spend a few days locked up on the island, negotiating with the other spous
e’s lawyer on the final details.
Leah had actually been relieved not to have him around. He was genuinely a nice guy, but she couldn’t take being pitied by him. Crowley kept referring to it as being gentlemanly, but Leah knew it was pity. She didn’t want to be painted as some pathetic damsel in distress, and she had no desire to be rescued by some knight in shiny flip-flops.
As Leah tried losing herself in work on Saturday, she had to constantly fight the lump in her throat. Even though Lulu kept her extremely busy, Leah barely held it together.
Lulu also had Leah research two different healthy versions of brownie recipes online. Leah prepared both versions so they could be tested the next afternoon at a community picnic. She typed and printed out voting comment cards, which were placed in fifty bags containing bite-size samples of the two versions. She made fifty bags with plenty of brownies to spare.
All the busyness did the trick. Before Leah knew it, the café was closed for the day. She stayed for several hours after work to organize the kitchen and storage room. After that task was complete, she tackled cleaning out the refrigerators. Leah eventually ran out of chores in the café to occupy her time, so she moved upstairs to give the apartment an early spring cleaning. Baseboards were scrubbed, curtains taken down, washed, and rehung. Windows were washed until they glittered . . . the tasks continued at an almost-obsessive rate.
Her thoughts continued in a looping pattern. If I can get through this day—if I can not think about what could have been—if I can not think about how sweet-smelling my baby would be—if I can just not wonder how soft my baby’s delicate skin would feel . . .
After trying so hard, Leah found herself in a heap of despair in the middle of the living room floor, holding a dust rag to her cheek imagining . . . A wave of grief slammed into her so hard it left her gasping for air.
As night fell, Leah deteriorated even more. She tried a scalding-hot shower to wash away some of the anxiety, to no avail. She went to bed, but sleep would not find her. She sat in the living room with her latest book but ended up reading the same page over and over with no focus.
Leah felt completely gutted, hollow, with a part of her missing and the realization that she would never be able to get it back. Not able to handle it any longer, Leah grabbed some money from her wallet and headed out to find something to stuff in the void. She needed the pain numbed.
She got no farther than the bakery display in the café before she found an old standby. She placed the money by the register and loaded a bakery bag full of brownies. She turned to head back upstairs and almost plowed over Lulu. The two stared at one another for a few moments.
Leah asked hoarsely, “What are you doing here?” She eyed Lulu’s outfit, which consisted of blue polka-dot night pants and a matching shirt. Her feet were crammed in rain boots, of all things. Leah peeked out the window and found no rain in sight.
“Hello. I’m Lulu. I think I’m welcome at Lulu’s any time I see fit.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I know. Besides, you’re not the only one around here who likes a late-night snack. Well, I’m having a snack.” She eyed Leah’s large bag full of brownies. “Looks like you are having a feast.”
“I paid for them,” Leah said.
“Yeah, and you’ll still be paying for them after you eat all that.” Lulu grabbed the bag away from Leah and reached inside to pull out three brownie bites. She placed the treats on a small plate. “Here you go.”
Leah refused the plate. “But I want the whole bag, please. I paid for them.”
Lulu walked over to retrieve Leah’s money and handed it back. “It’s on the house.” She grabbed Leah’s hand and waited for Leah to meet her gaze. “Sweetheart, food is intended to be used as fuel for our bodies. You use it for something else, and it’s just going to end up fueling your pains even more.”
Lulu guided Leah over to a table. “Come on, and let’s enjoy our treats together. Nothing better than good company to go with late-night snacking.”
Leah sat while Lulu filled two glasses of milk and rejoined her at the table with her own plate of brownies. “We need to figure out which recipe we like the best.” Lulu was clearly trying to distract Leah, but she just stared at her hands in her lap.
Leah had no desire for company. She only wanted to take the bag upstairs and indulge in private as she always did. With no witnesses.
“So . . . would you like to talk about it?” Lulu asked between sips of milk.
“I don’t think I can, yet,” Leah said.
Lulu was silent for a moment. Then, “Can I share a secret with you?”
Leah shrugged as she continued staring at her hands. “Sure. I guess.”
“I was madly in love with a movie star,” Lulu said.
Intrigued, Leah looked up. “A movie star?” It was hard to picture this tiny, old-fashioned country lady loving someone famous. “Did he . . . umm . . . love you back?”
“Oh yes. Most definitely. He was shooting a movie down along the coast and tried to escape all of the publicity between filming by staying out here in the very same house I live in now.” Lulu took a bite of her brownie and chewed attentively. “Not this one.” She made note of the recipe. “The texture is a bit gritty.”
“I thought so too.” Leah waited for more of the love story.
“We met at this café and couldn’t unglue our eyes from one another. We spent the entire summer sneaking here, there, and yonder to be together. I’d meet him on one of the secluded river bluffs where we would spend the day tangled in each other’s arms trying to figure out a future together. Or I’d meet him in the top of my daddy’s barn. When I got home, I would have to explain why there was straw all tangled up in my hair.” Lulu paused to laugh. “We had a passionate love affair that summer. One I will always treasure. We were engaged to be married that following fall. We had no desire to wait to begin our lives together.” Lulu sighed.
Leah couldn’t help but ask, “What was his name? Do I know him?” She mentally reviewed all of the leading men during the golden age of Hollywood.
“Oh, I doubt it. He was just starting out when we met. His name was Gabriel Banks. Oh, and how he was such a catch,” Lulu reminisced.
“What happened?” Leah hated to ask but knew it was coming—the unhappy ending.
“A stupid war is what happened. The nonsense took him away to some foreign country and never gave him back.”
“I’m so sorry, Lulu,” Leah whispered, unsure of what to say or do.
“All I wanted was to die too. I didn’t know how sharp pain really was till then. Most people know pain, but some of us have been pulled into a much deeper darkness of it. I wish that pain on no one. I’m sorry you know all about it too.” The two women looked at their hands in silence for a while.
“No glass of liquor . . . no extra dose of pills . . . nothing could take the pain away in those dark days of my life. I learned quickly that the pain always grew a bit worse afterward.”
“So what did you do?” Leah asked, hoping for a great secret on how to cope.
“I decided to take the pain fully on and endure it. Sometimes you just have to surrender to the nightmare and live in it for a while. Trying to fight against it is useless,” Lulu said before finishing the last of her milk.
“Gee, that sounds like such a fun idea.”
“Honey, there’s nothing fun about pain, but you have to face it in order to heal from it. It wouldn’t hurt you to ask God for some help. It wouldn’t hurt you to trust me or one of your other friends around here enough to confide in.”
Leah shook her head.
“You think it’s easy for me to confide in you about losing the best thing I ever had in such a barbaric manner? No, ma’am, but I trust you. I want you to figure out how to trust me too.” Lulu gathered her plate and glass and carried the dishes into the kitchen. She left, just as quietly as she had entered, without another word to Leah.
Leah sat awhile longer. She knew Lulu was
right. She needed to face it and she needed to confide in someone, but she just wasn’t ready to take on the challenge. Feeling rebellious, she snatched the bag of brownies and stomped up the stairs. By the time she reached her apartment door, she had inhaled at least a half-dozen brownie bites, trying to fill the void.
Leah headed straight to her bedroom to prepare her suitcases for escape. She reached for another brownie while packing and made the mistake of looking in the full-length mirror by the window. She was at midbite and was disgusted at the mirror’s unrelenting tale. It reflected a bloated, red-faced mess of a woman. A ghost of what she could potentially be. She despised what the mirror shared with her and desperately needed it to tell her a new story.
“This has to stop,” she whispered to the reflection staring back at her, still holding the brownie. She repeated to herself more sternly, “This has got to stop.”
After taking the bakery bag back to the café, Leah crawled under the covers, where she cried until the sun announced the arrival of a new day. Instead of feeling better, she felt achy all over. Her nose was congested, her eyes swollen and bloodshot. Trying to be roommates with pain was unbearable.
Needing some fresh air, Leah pulled on a pair of sneakers and headed out the door into the still-sleeping town. She walked for long stretches that morning, and when the pain of memories or thoughts would surface, she would strike out in a sprint. She ruthlessly refused to slow her pace until the only thought was about the burning in her lungs or the screaming in her calf muscles. She kept it up for an hour before limping back to her apartment and collapsing on the sofa out of pure exhaustion for the remainder of the day.
The exercise soon became part of Leah’s daily routine after work. During that hour of exercise, she was freed completely from the captive chains of her nightmares. The feeling at the end of each session was a reward of rejuvenation and peace.
She was sick of feeling weak and incapable. “Strong,” she would repeat. “I will be strong.”
By mid-March, Leah felt truly strong, physically. Her walk/run routine evolved into a steady hour-long jog. The beautiful Southern countryside was filled with boundless treasures to be discovered. Her chosen route took her by the exquisite gated entrance to the Big Oaks Plantation. Leah always slowed her stride a bit so that she could check out the stone archway and the grand oak trees towering overhead. She held the hope that one day the gate would be left open so she could peer further into the plantation’s mystery.
