by PE Kavanagh
* * *
It feels impossible but I want to believe that there is a chance for us. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.
* * *
I hope that you can eventually replace this terrible memory with others - the ones of me loving you, holding you, honoring the gift you have been in my life. I will wait as long as it takes for you to come back to me.
* * *
With all my love,
* * *
Aidan
Lola put the sheet down on top of the envelope, pushed back on her chair and stood up. She took her purse, walked out of the office, down the four flights of stairs, and outside into the cold, sunny day. She turned left, down the block, in the opposite direction from her house. And his house.
In two blocks she reached a park, with a small playground. A multicultural array of nannies hovered over all the little ones, bundled up in brightly-colored puffy winter jackets.
She sat so that the bright blue slide was to her left, in front of her a great tree, whose sole remaining leaves were a dull gold. The cold of the bench chilled the back of her legs. She took a deep breath, braced her hands on the bench, and allowed the sobs she had been holding to break through.
Her body shook. Her arms went slack and she folded over herself. She didn’t care that tears and snot were falling into her lap. She didn’t care that she was in the middle of a public place. She didn’t care about anything other than being free from the pain.
She noticed dark brown boots next to her, but did not look up.
“Darlin’, you alright? You need some help?” A sweet Caribbean lilt pierced her internal screams. She remembered his mother, from Trinidad. Would she have sounded like that? She exhaled before lifting her heavy head.
A beautiful woman, with a sculpted face framed by a scarf the color of spring grass, was standing with her fingers on her cheek.
“I’m fine. I just got some bad news.” It was true enough, she supposed. “I’ll be okay. Sorry to disturb you.”
“Alright, dear. You didn’t disturb us. We were just worried about you.”
Worried about you bounced around in her head. So many people worried about her. The energy of rage lifted her body off the bench and froze the tears still inside.
“I’m so sorry,” she said as she walked briskly out of the park, heading toward her office. She stopped in the bathroom outside of the lobby to fix her face. She looked terrible, but there was not much she could do about it, so she didn’t let it bother her.
The rest of the afternoon Lola focused solely on work. Then it was off to Maddie’s. Instead of taking the subway, she decided to walk the long way downtown. She was ice cold by the time she came to the ornate, old-fashioned door, but liked the feeling of pain commingled with numbness.
Trevor opened the door and immediately wrapped his large body and long arms around her. He held on much longer than an ordinary hug. “I’m so glad you’re here, Lo.”
“Me too, Trev.” The house smelled like an Italian restaurant - basil, garlic, tomatoes, cheese. Maddie poked her head around the kitchen wall. “Hey love!”
“It smells insane in here, Mads. So good.”
“Yay! Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells.”
“No doubt about that, my love. Glass of wine, Lo?”
“Sure. Why not.”
Lola put her coat and purse down on the bench near the front door, then made her way to the kitchen. Trevor handed her a very full glass of wine.
“Thanks. I really appreciate your taking care of me, as always. I can’t believe we’re here again.”
Maddie turned from the oven with a fierce look on her face. “I don’t want to hear that, Lo. First of all, we always take care of each other. You know that’s true. You’re not the only one on the receiving end, lest I remind you of my time in baby hell. And…”
Trevor put his arm around his wife’s neck and kissed her, halting the rant. “How close is dinner, babe?”
“Fifteen minutes. I want the sauce to thicken just a little bit more. You guys go sit down. I’ll be there in a sec.”
Lola left the kitchen reluctantly, but allowed herself to be moved by Trevor’s firm grip. She looked back at Maddie, stirring the sauce angrily.
It was quiet until Maddie plopped herself down on the couch next to Lola. She had calmed down and was feigning cheerfulness. “So how was your day?”
“Pretty good. It’s busy, which I really appreciate.”
They went on to talk about the magazine’s acquisition of a smaller west coast imprint, and Lola’s upcoming trip to California, ending with a visit to the family for Thanksgiving.
“It’ll be nice to get away. I’m looking forward to it, even though it’s going to be totally nuts. Everybody’s gathering at my Mom’s house - Claire and her guy, Pablo and Diego with their families, my two aunts with their families, and me.” She realized how odd her solo status sounded, especially compared to the fullness around her.
“How long will you be gone?” asked Trevor.
“Originally, I was going to LA just for the meetings, maybe spend a few days with Diego, then come back. But I think I’m going to stay, enjoy the sun for a little while, putter around, maybe drive up the coast. I’m going to leave it open. See how I feel.”
“That sounds amazing, Lo. I’m so happy for you. And jealous.”
“Come.” Maddie’s eyebrows rose. “Come out for a few days. Actually, you guys should come out for Thanksgiving. Everyone would be thrilled to see you. And you could buffer me from my family.”
“Well…”
Trevor interceded. “Actually, Lola, we’re keeping Thanksgiving really low key this year. After everything… We just need some quiet time, the two of us.”
Maddie turned to look at her husband with adoration in her eyes.
“That’s fine,” Lola added. “Come out beforehand. You can do LA or San Francisco, or both. Whatever you prefer. Think about it.”
“That’s a firm maybe. Let me look at my performance calendar. Meanwhile, let’s eat.”
It could have been mistaken for a normal night, like many they’d had over the years. After dinner, Trevor and Lola cleaned the dishes, while Maddie packed the leftovers in the already full fridge.
The heavy meal, several glasses of wine and her previous late nights gave Lola a craving for her bed. She stood up to gather her belongings when Maddie’s phone rang. No one moved.
Lola put on her jacket. “Aren’t you going to get that?”
“Nope.” Maddie's face tightened, eyes shifting to Trevor and away.
The phone stopped ringing, then began again. Still, Maddie did not even get up to look who it was. The third time, she got up and answered.
“Hello.” She pursed her lips. “Now’s not a good time. I have people over. I’ll talk to you later.”
Lola stood by the door, purse in hand, unable to decipher the strange look on her friend’s face. “What was that about?”
“Nothing.”
“Really? It was definitely something.”
“Tell her,” Trevor said.
They both turned to face him.
“Tell her what?” Lola prepared herself, knowing something big was coming.
“That was him.”
“Aidan?” Lola could not believe what she was hearing.
“Yes.” Maddie glared at her husband.
Her mouth went dry. “Why the fuck is Aidan calling you?”
“Okay, calm down Lo. He was here… Saturday… after…” Maddie exhaled, trying to find the right words. “He was in bad shape. Like scary bad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so upset. I was worried about him. I mean, he’s the one who sent me to check on you. He was scared. I felt kinda bad. I mean I was furious with him. But I… I told him he could call me.”
Lola put her hand over her mouth. She thought she would start screaming.
“Lo… please breathe. It’s not a big deal. I’m NOT on his side. Not even a little bit. I just offered
that he could call. To make sure you were okay. That’s all.”
Lola dropped onto the bench that had been holding her purse. Her mouth stayed open. She was doing her best to make sense of what she was hearing.
“Lola,” Trevor said in his schoolteacher voice. “Look at me, Lola. Our only loyalty is you. This guy was in bad shape and we just want to make sure that he’s okay as well. Even if we think he’s the worst human being on the planet. It’s just common decency.”
The same sick, shaky feeling brought her back to earlier that day. “He sent me a letter.”
“What?” Maddie and Trevor said together.
“He sent me a letter, by courier.”
“No fucking way,” Maddie said in slow motion.
Lola reached into her purse and pulled out the single white sheet. “Read it yourself.”
It took them much longer to read it than she expected. They looked up at her at the same time.
“Are you alright?” Maddie asked shakily.
“Yeah. I’m not mad, you guys. What could you do? It’s fine.”
“I’m not telling him anything. Don’t worry.”
Lola stood up, ready to leave again. “It’s late. I need to go. Thanks for the amazing dinner. Love you.”
She let herself out, and held it together through the entire trip of three blocks, a long subway ride, two more blocks, up the elevator, down the hall, into her apartment, dropping her bag and coat in a trail behind her and directly into her bed, fully dressed.
A relentless pounding behind her eyes forced her out of bed hours later. She had cried herself to sleep and was now dehydrated. After gulping down two glasses of water, Lola entered the bathroom searching for pain relief. The bathtub called to her instead.
She sat on the edge of the tub, turned the hot water on full blast and waited for it to fill. It was not a great bathtub - too small, ancient, oddly shaped - but it was the only option. There were no enormous clawfoot tubs here. And she needed to put her body in water.
Sinking into the scalding water was the perfect remedy, the physical pain a welcome counterpoint.
12
Running Away and Being Found
EVERY DAY, FOR the next twelve days, just before noon, a letter arrived for Lola via courier. On the weekend, they came to her apartment, slipped under the door. After three days, she stopped opening them, instead piling them under her desk or leaving them on the floor inside the door instead.
Life returned to its normal routine: Tuesday and Thursday nights with Maddie for a workout and dinner, Sunday morning workout, coffee then hanging out at the bookstore, now that the market was no longer running. There, she would hand Maddie the unopened envelopes containing his letters, which she would read out loud. They both cried, sometimes hard, sometimes sharing a single tear each. Lola ventured out once to see Maddie perform, but the idea of Aidan showing up, considering he and Maddie were still communicating, kept her away after that.
She became obsessed with reasserting order around her and regaining control over all the physical disarray. Instead of trying to sleep, which ended up in tears or nightmares, Lola cleaned her apartment. It amazed her how much she had accumulated in her home. There was stuff everywhere, some carefully concealed, but still there. She even found clothing and books that had belonged to Scott. All the evidence of lying, despicable men had to go. She took eight bags to the local donation center on her first trip and there was still more.
If she could purge enough, all attachments would dissolve. Even with the constant ache in her chest, she was energized by the idea of being unburdened by anything, unbound to anyone, in control of her solitary self.
* * *
Each passing day brought Lola closer to her departure from New York and the constant memories of Aidan. When the time came, she happily boarded the plane for the opposite side of the country.
It was a gloriously warm morning in Los Angeles when she arrived, immediate confirmation that this was exactly where she was supposed to be. None of the typical LA traffic delayed her arrival at the media company her magazine had just acquired.
She received a warm welcome from the team - the prettier, happier, tanner versions of all her colleagues in New York. Working with this group was going to be fun and might even lead to frequent trips to California. They insisted she take off early, assuming she was exhausted from the long flight, so she headed straight to her stepbrother's house.
She would have happily stayed at a hotel, but Diego insisted she stay with him and his husband Timothy. They had just built a sprawling Spanish-style house in the hills above LA, with more than enough room for Lola.
It had been years since Lola spent time with the two men and she had not yet seen their new house. Pulling into the impressively long gravel driveway, with a dramatic Pacific Ocean view behind her, Lola frowned with envy. Even her wild stepbrother had created a remarkable life, while hers had not yet appeared. She seemed to still be in the throes of figuring out what she wanted and getting it wrong far too often.
Diego had followed in his father’s footsteps, beginning his career in architecture and then deciding to specialize in residential design. The house had Diego's love of flash and extravagance all over it. Timothy opened the door before she had reached the front archway and greeted her with a blinding Hollywood smile.
"Hey, darlin'." To the same degree that Lola's stepbrother looked like European royalty, his husband Timothy looked like a cowboy or a man in Marlboro ad. He was thick and rugged, with a shock of yellow hair that stood straight up from his head. It was hard not to get hypnotized by his clear blue eyes and the slight drawl of his southern roots.
"Timothy! So great to see you."
"We are so glad you're here, sweetie. Your brother is driving up from Orange County and will be home by dinner. Here, let me get your stuff."
He easily carried her two bags into the house and up the stairs to the guest room that would be home for the next week. The strikingly elegant room was nearly the size of her entire New York apartment.
"It's happy hour, if you're interested."
Lola broke out into a full-toothed grin. "You bet your ass I'm interested. What's the house special?"
"I was thinkin' Mojitos."
"Perfect. Want me to squeeze the limes?"
* * *
They moved out to the deck, overlooking the infinity pool and the ocean below.
"Don't you have to work tonight, Timothy?" As one of the most sought-after Hollywood publicists, his life involved near nightly high-profile events. There was no one in the business he didn’t know, or could easily get to know.
"Nope. I need to get my face out of the rags for a minute." Timothy's divorce from a starlet had lingered on the tabloids for months. When he’d been introduced to Diego through a mutual friend, it was love at first sight, which did nothing to douse the flames of media attention.
Diego arrived, food in hand, and happy hour became dinner on the deck.
* * *
Every morning, before heading downtown to work, Lola set out on a hike on and off the trails around the house. She talked to herself, recounting the stories that lingered, desperately wanting them to make sense. Her rage softened, but confusion remained.
She was kept busy by her colleagues in the new office, entertained by her brother and Timothy, and distracted in the best way by the vast city of Los Angeles. For an entire week, Lola worked, walked, ate, and partied away the tightness around her heart. Her days, and most of her nights, were filled with lovely sights, experiences and people. She grew stronger.
It was only after she slipped into bed every night that she let herself descend into the depth of her longing for Aidan. She ran her hands over the sumptuous sheets and imagined him there. She had resigned herself that it would take time, but every night she prayed for relief.
It appeared in the form of an invitation to the party of the year, thrown by one of Diego’s clients, who also happened to be a famous director. Touches with celebrity
were not that unusual for Lola, considering her high-profile family, but Diego took it to another level.
Although it would not normally have been interesting, a big fancy party was exactly what Lola needed. She made a deal with herself to enjoy the night, and strutted into the party head and heels high.
She chatted up people she recognized from their movies and people she didn’t. Never without champagne on her lips and a few handsome men within arms reach, Lola's flirting muscles got a great workout. By the time Diego found her, leaning into a man with perfect hair, pouting suggestively, it was nearly 1am.
“Time to go, sis.”
The man held her arm. “Hey, why don’t you stay? I’ll take you home.”
Diego delivered his best disapproving look. “No thanks, buddy. She’s coming with me.”
Lola waved and blew him a kiss while being led away by Diego.
“I’m tipsy,” she whispered to her brother as she stumbled into the car.
“I noticed. Looked like you were having fun, though.”
“Damn straight,” she said with a grin and a wink.
“You’ve got to watch out for those guys, Lo. There’s not an honest one in the bunch. Man-whores. A complete lack of integrity in those circles.”
It was as if Aidan’s image had been superimposed over her brother’s moving lips. Honesty. Integrity. Whores. Betrayal. Her stomach lurched.
“You alright, sweetie?” They had arrived in front of his house.
“Yeah, I’m fine." She had spared her brother the details of her latest relationship fiasco. All he knew was that she had recently broken up with someone.
She was wobbly on her feet and leaned on Diego as they entered the foyer. "Thanks for taking me to the party Diego. I had a great time."
"My pleasure, sis. That guy, back in New York, has no idea what he's missing."
