It's Just Lola

by Dixiane Hallaj

  Sunday morning Concha and Enriqueta wrapped up the bundles of uniforms to be ready when Uncle came on his route. It was difficult to finish the uniforms each week, but Enriqueta was adamant that they could not afford to ignore the steady income the uniforms represented. They had their one leisurely breakfast of the week, and laughed as they watched Blanca and Estela tasting the food.

  It was afternoon before Uncle arrived. Lola was shocked by his appearance. His face was haggard and his shoulders slumped.

  “What’s the matter, Uncle?” asked Enriqueta. “Are you sick?” The man shook his head without speaking. The bluster and self-importance that Lola always thought of as part of his personality were gone.

  “Do you want me to bring up the new uniforms?” asked Concha. Again the man shook his head. He stood there and the three girls looked at each other, uncertain what they should do. Finally he spoke.

  “There are no new uniforms. The army didn’t renew the contract.”

  Lola was speechless. She was relieved that the contract was cancelled now, after they were no longer totally dependent on him for the food they ate. She was ashamed that she did not feel as sorry for him as she should.

  “You must have money set aside,” she said before she could stop herself. One of the first things her father had taught them was they must always take some off the top and put it aside for a time of need.

  “It’s all invested in sewing machines,” he said. “We have over half a dozen now.”

  “Perhaps you could sew something else,” Lola said, “overalls for workers or dresses or work shirts. People always need clothes, and clothes need to be sewn. Just look at stores and see what they sell.”

  “If you need money I’ll buy one of the machines from you,” said Enriqueta. Lola saw her sister’s expression of disgust, and once again she noted the resemblance to their father. Enriqueta had no compunction about taking advantage of Uncle’s situation.

  “These machines aren’t cheap, you know.”

  “How much?”

  He sputtered and coughed and looked at the ceiling. Enriqueta did not wait for him to decide between need and greed.

  “Bring Lola’s machine and the original receipt. We’ll pay half the original price.”

  “I couldn’t possibly sell it that cheap. I could get more elsewhere. Besides, there’s the customs and the hire of the freight wagon and—”

  “And if you bring it today you’ll have the money today.” Enriqueta swept out of the room leaving no chance for further argument. Uncle bobbed his head in her direction and turned to go, ignoring the astonished Lola. Concha closed the door behind him. Lola didn’t move until his footsteps faded on the stairs, then she rushed into the bedroom.

  “Enriqueta, what’re you thinking? You just offered to pay for a sewing machine when our income has taken a precipitous drop. You’re the one who never lets us spend money because we may need it in the future. It sounds to me like the future is now.”

  Enriqueta turned to her with a wide grin on her face and hugged her tight. “Oh, Lola, you have no idea how clever you are.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You told me what we could do to make up this income and more.”

  “I did?”

  “Yes. You told Uncle he could make overalls or shirts and sell them to stores. We can do better than that—we can make ladies’ dresses and take them to stores, and we can sell them for the same price as the ready-made dresses from North America but we’ll offer to fit them for the customer. Imagine—ready-made clothes tailored to fit. Isn’t that a great idea?

  “In the meantime we can produce quick easy work shirts in no time at all and sell them in local stores. Maybe Luis would stock some for us. Concha can sew a work shirt in no time, if I cut it for her.”

  Lola’s mind was whirling. It sounded like a great idea, but would she have to quit working at the store or with the doctor? She knew that if the idea worked she could make more money sewing than working for the doctor, at least until she got all her training. Could she refuse? She was learning so much working in the clinic, and she loved the work.

  “Lola, are you listening?”

  “Sorry. I’m having trouble keeping up with you.”

  “I said that we taught Concha how to sew, and her talents are being wasted on laundry and cleaning. Surely we can find another girl to do that and Concha can sew.”

  Lola was relieved—Enriqueta didn’t want her to quit what she was doing to sew. “Do you think it’ll work?”

  Enriqueta smiled. “I’m betting on it.”

  The next day Enriqueta spent more of their precious funds for material. A few days later she went out, armed with one dress and several of Lola’s sketches. A week later Enriqueta was still trying to find a shopkeeper that would accept her idea of selling dresses that could be individually fitted. They sold a few work shirts, but the money was not nearly enough to replace the income of the uniforms.

  One night when they had gone to bed, Lola heard Enriqueta crying softly. Lola put her arm around Enriqueta’s shoulders. “Remember how long it took me to find a job? Without Luis’s bad luck, I might still be looking. Keep trying. I have faith in you.”

  Enriqueta shook her head. “I think all the entertainers in the city already have new dresses, and Javier’s wife has run out of neighbors. It was the wrong time to gamble.”

  The next day Lola took some more of their dwindling coins and went to an artists’ supply shop. She bought a leather portfolio, some good paper, and a set of water colors. She worked in Mehmet’s office whenever she had a few minutes and Enriqueta was out. When she was satisfied, she presented it to Enriqueta.

  “Appearances make a world of difference,” she said, thinking of Dr. Hernandez.

  It didn’t happen the next day or even the next week or the next, but one day Enriqueta walked into a shop with her sketches, and there were two dissatisfied shoppers who wanted to talk to the manager at the same time. One thing led to another, and Enriqueta came home with a grin that announced to everyone that she had been successful that day. There was a general air of relief but, as Enriqueta said, they hadn’t seen the money yet.

  For some time now their meals had depended on the tired wilted vegetables Lola brought from Luis each day as he replaced his produce stock with fresh. Her meager wages quickly disappeared under the weight of their need for necessities such as laundry soap, flour, lamp oil, and fuel for the cook stove. The list seemed endless and the girls took coins out of the “untouchable” money that they still considered Pilar’s. Enriqueta constantly berated herself for her foolhardy spending. She complained that she could feel every pebble in the road through the soles of her “new” shoes. Lola sympathized and helped her fit scraps of material and wrapping paper in the soles to cushion her feet.

  Javier’s wife walked in while they were working and noticed the holes in Enriqueta’s stockings. She taught the girls how to darn their socks. It was a skill they had not needed on the plantation. “Please, call me Francisca,” she asked. The girls could not bring themselves to call her by her first name. After all, she had grandchildren their age. They settled on Tía Francisca.

  Lola smiled and hugged her new “aunt.” It made her happy that she had people around her she could consider family. This is what she had been missing. Tía Francisca began to cook in their kitchen a couple of days a week. She brought the ingredients with her under the pretext that she wanted to teach Concha how to make new dishes. They all knew she wanted to help them get good food they could not afford, but no one ever mentioned it out loud. That would have been accepting charity, and Lola thought this was not charity—it was a gift of love. That, too, made her happy.

  The specter of Mehmet’s return hung over them, yet they had no resources to pay rent. Their first priority was earning enough money to eat.

  One day Javier’s wife brought two other women to see them. Enriqueta recognized one of them as a former customer and the other was her sister who had liked the dress and
wanted one for herself. Two days later Rosita brought another friend of hers. The girls began to breathe easier, although Enriqueta continued her search.

  A week after that, Lola came home later than usual and was surprised to learn that Enriqueta had not returned. She asked Concha to prepare the washtub for her and she hurried to change before Enriqueta came home and saw blood on her clothes. Lola began scrubbing her white apron and laughing as the two babies struggled to pull themselves up on the edge of the washtub. Blanca stood and held on with one hand while she tried to reach the water with the other. Estela nearly toppled the tub with her efforts. Lola picked her up and stood her on the opposite side of the tub, steadying her until she got her balance.

  “Guess what?” Enriqueta burst into the kitchen with a parcel under her arm. “I found the perfect place.” Enriqueta’s words came out in a joyful flood of explanation. “It’s a small shop in a very nice neighborhood. The owner’s a widow. She agreed to dress a manikin in one of our dresses and to put up a display of Lola’s sketches. She said the workmanship on our sample dress was very good, but the material wasn’t quite up to her standards. She asked me to bring another one with better fabric. I was so tired and so disappointed that I started crying, and told her we didn’t have enough money to buy better fabric. We struck a deal.

  “She went with me and bought the material she wants. She said the sample dress should fit her, and we’d sew it for free in exchange for using her shop. If her customers are interested, we’ll make a new dress for her periodically to keep the display fresh and seasonally appropriate. If her customers aren’t interested, she keeps the dress anyway.

  “There are no guarantees, but it’s our chance.”

  Late that night Lola whispered to Enriqueta, “Are you asleep?”

  “No, I’m too excited. What is it?”

  “I have good news today, too. I delivered a baby all by myself. The doctor was there and made sure I did everything right. He was pleased and he said the next time he’s called to a birthing during clinic hours he’ll let me go by myself.”

  “I’m happy for you,” said Enriqueta but there was no enthusiasm in her voice.

  “The doctor said that I’m now a real help to him, and he’ll pay me accordingly.”

  “Now that’s good news. I’m really proud of your work helping people, even if I’d prefer you to stay home and use your talents of design and your wonderful sketches that bring the dresses to life. I can visualize dresses and draw them, but I can never get them down on paper the way you do.”

  The girls were still lying awake, each thinking of the events of the day when they heard a loud knocking at the door. Lola picked up the small lamp they kept lit at night.

  “Who is it?”

  “Mehmet.”

  “What’ll we do?” Enriqueta’s voice quivered with panic that mirrored Lola’s.

  “For God’s sake, Lola, open the door. I’ve been traveling for weeks, and I’m exhausted.”

  “You can’t come in—we’re not dressed.” She heard a loud groan on the other side of the door.

  “Throw the bolt and I’ll count to ten before coming in.”

  “Twenty.” Lola moved to the door.

  “All right, twenty.”

  Lola spent a restless night. Between reassuring Enriqueta that all would be well and her own fear that all would not be well, she dozed fitfully. She tossed and turned trying to think of a plan. When morning finally came, she dressed quietly and tiptoed into Mehmet’s office where Concha slept.

  “Concha,” she whispered, and proceeded to tell the sleepy girl that Mehmet had returned. Together they moved Concha’s pallet and few belongings into the bedroom and placed it next to the sleeping babies. Lola warned Concha that Enriqueta was very worried and asked her to do whatever she could to make her sister more comfortable.

  “Mehmet may sleep until midday when I get back. I’d like to talk to him before Enriqueta, so please try to keep the girls quiet.” Concha smiled and said she would do her best to let Mehmet and Enriqueta sleep until noon.

  Luis arrived at the shop early with the fresh produce and left immediately, telling Lola that he had to replenish the supplies of candy and tobacco. The morning seemed to drag on forever. Lola dusted everything in sight just to keep busy. She had climbed up on a crate to reach one of the high shelves behind the counter when a warm voice that she recognized instantly wished her a good morning. She let out a surprised exclamation as her arms windmilled in a barely successful effort not to fall.

  “I’m sorry, Lola,” said Mehmet with a smile, “I seem to have very poor timing. I apologize for startling you, and I apologize again for waking you and your sister so late last night.” He ended his speech with a deep bow.

  “Estela’s grown wonderfully and is even more beautiful than when I left. The beauty of her smile is only surpassed by that of her mother.” Lola wanted to protest that startling statement, but words failed her.

  “I congratulate you on your progress in my absence.” He bowed again.

  “Mehmet, I’m glad you returned safely from your journey,” said Lola. She only wished he hadn’t returned quite yet. “I’m sorry we lost track of time and didn’t find another place to live. I’ll start looking today as soon as I finish work. I promise.” She was close to tears.

  “That was one of the things I came to talk about. Your sister wasn’t feeling well this morning and didn’t leave her room, so I couldn’t talk to her.” Lola breathed a sigh of relief over that morsel of good news. “I wanted to tell you that I’d like you all to stay. Concha presented me with the most delicious breakfast I’ve ever eaten, and the place really looks like a home now. It made me happy just to walk through the living room. I’d be delighted if you stayed.”

  “I’m touched by your kindness, but we can’t impose upon your generosity.” Maybe Luis would let them sleep in the shop at night. Lola was grasping at straws, and she knew it.

  “I assure you it wouldn’t be an imposition. It would be my pleasure to have your company.”

  Lola wanted desperately to accept his offer. Life would be so much easier. After all, he had his own room. He was pleasant company, and it was always enjoyable to talk with him. They’d even feel safer with him in the house. No, they couldn’t do that. Some rules of ladylike behavior were sheer nonsense, and she was glad to be rid of them, but certain rules were there for a reason. Living with a man that was not a member of the family was not acceptable—even under Lola’s new improved standards of behavior.

  “I’m so sorry, Mehmet,” Lola’s voice quavered as the tears filled her eyes. “We couldn’t live in a house with a man. It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “It wouldn’t be proper?” repeated Mehmet. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I want nothing more than to be your friend. My intentions are in no way dishonorable.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Lola. “It would not be seemly.” Her voice was nearly a whisper.

  “It would not be seemly?” Mehmet’s voice got louder with every word. “Not proper?” He looked at Lola with a strange expression on his face. “And I suppose that living in a whorehouse was seemly and proper?” He turned and left the shop with his hands clenched by his side, taking long purposeful strides. “If that’s what you want—so be it!” he called over his shoulder as he left.

  Lola was devastated. She had ruined everything. Mehmet had offered his friendship without asking any questions. His friendship had allowed them to prosper, and she had angered him. No, he’d looked more than angry—he’d looked furious. What were they going to do now? And how did he know where they lived before?

  A persistent knocking woke Lola. It took her a few seconds to remember why she was sleeping in the living room fully dressed. Then she remembered, and embarrassment and shame swept over her once more. She had insisted they could not bolt the door and deny Mehmet entrance to his own home. She had tried to sit up and wait for his return. At the time it had seemed perfectly reasonable to her that perhaps she could
talk him into staying in a hotel or with a friend for a day or two until they could move.

  Now, as she walked toward the door, she knew it was an outrageous request. After all, it was his house. Her hands shook as she reached for the knob.

  “Mehmet?”

  “Yes, Lola. May I come in?”

  She opened the door. She felt weak with relief when she saw the smile on Mehmet’s face. She stood back to let him enter. He came in and sat on the settee, gesturing for her to join him.

  She tried to smile and sat in a chair.

  “Lola, I want to apologize.”

  “No. I’m the one who should apologize. We knew you were coming home. We should’ve moved out long ago.”

  “I should never have come in the middle of the night. It was my fault that I couldn’t wait another day. My haste to see you was ill advised, and I see that now. You’re absolutely correct that it would not be proper for young women to be living in a man’s apartment. Not only was my request improper, but it was inexcusable of me to betray my knowledge in such a crude manner. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  “Y-y-you want m-me to forgive you?”

  “I’ll explain everything. I need to tell you why I asked you to stay. I thought of you every single day I was gone. On my way back, the closer I came to you the more I missed your bright presence in my life.” He paused, waiting for her to say something.

  “I-I don’t know what to say.” Was he asking her to be his… Her mind searched in vain for an acceptable word for mistress.

  “I arrived in the middle of the night because the thought of being away from you one more day was more than I could bear. I missed you so much. I couldn’t bear the thought that Estela was growing up, and I wasn’t here to see it.” He looked intently at her face. “I’m not expressing myself well. I can see that you’re confused. Lola, I want to share my life with you and your beautiful baby. If you will accept me, I want to marry you.”