Page 122 of The Next Chapter
‘I’ve been trying to picture it for all these years.’
She looks round some more. I need to ask her why she’s here. I need to tell her that I was going to come back to her too. But she’s wandering now, from room to room.
‘I’m going to change quickly.’
I thump up the stairs. My jumper is wool and it’s already starting to shrink. I wrestle it off, and my jeans, pulling on fleecy joggers and a hoodie instead. My hair is a tomorrow problem because right now, Lola’s downstairs.
I pad down to find her in the kitchen by the kettle.
‘I hope it’s all right,’ she tells me. ‘I know that y’all like a cup of tea for these sorts of things.’ She has a small smile at her mouth.
‘It’s fine, honestly.’
The kettle boils and we work together to make two drinks. The air between us feels fragile, like glass that might shatter at any moment.
I don’t know what’s happening, but I do want to know. ‘Why are you here, Lola?’
She looks at me over the top of her mug. She’s cupping it with both hands as she blows on it.
‘I want to make you tea, Lily.’ She says it matter of factly. ‘I want to be here for you.’
‘What do you mean?’
She takes a sip and levels a look at me.
‘I gave up on you twice already. I don’t want to make that same mistake again.’
I swallow.
‘I want to fight for you, Lily. I don’t want to give up like I did when you were a baby, or when your pa told me not to call again. And I’m sorry about your letters but—’
‘You didn’t get them.’ I cut her off. ‘I know you didn’t get the letters. I think Mum and Dad were so scared of losing me, they never passed them on to the agency. I believe you.’
That’s one thing I’m realizing in all of this. Sometimes people do hurtful things because of love. Just like Lola all those years ago. And it’s up to us to decide whether we can live with those things. Sometimes we can’t, and that’s okay, but other times, like with Lola and Mum and Dad, forgiving them feels like the right thing to do. There’s freedom in forgiveness, I think.
‘It’s okay, Lola.’
She carries on, looking right at me. ‘I walked away from my family. From my life in America. When Jimmy… did what he did, I didn’t fight it. I never fought for you either. Even Noah was just there one day. And I never fought for him to stay. I think half the time he was runnin’ from everything that happened to him as a kid. I never told him that leaving isn’t the same as escaping.’
‘It wouldn’t have been fair for you to ask that of him.’
‘No, I agree, but sometimes people are looking for a reason to stay.’
‘What do you want, exactly, from me?’
Lola puts down her mug on the kitchen cabinet.
‘I want a place in your life, Lily, and I’m willing to fight for it. I know I’ll never be your parent; you’ve had two of them already and seems to me like they did a great job. I knew they would and I’m so happy that you had that. I don’t think I said, but I’m so sorry, for your loss. This is me, here, fighting for you, Lily. Because I didn’t do that before, when I should have done. I didn’t fight for the people I love.’
Maybe here there should be a dramatic pause. I should hold my breath a second and let Lola wonder what I’m going to say. I don’t do that, though, because I want what she wants. This moment is dramatic enough.
‘I want that too,’ I rush out. ‘I want to fight too. I want to be a part of your life, I mean. Or for you to be a part of mine. Even when it’s hard, or especially when it’s hard.’
I’m not sure who moves first, or how my drink ends up on the side, but Lola is hugging me then. It’s not at all like I expected. She’s so strong and wiry, I did not have her pegged as such a good hugger. It feels like relief, that we finally made it here. Despite Lola’s anaconda arms squishing me a touch, I can breathe a little easier.
When she pulls back, her eyes are wet again. And being around someone crying always makes me cry, it’s just the way of the world.
‘Do you think you could ever forgive me? For leaving you back then? I know I had some bad luck, what with Jimmy and… but I made the choices I made. I’m not shying away from them.’
