Being Lara

by Lola Jaye

  One step at a time.

  The next morning Lara decided to show Granny around her London. Stately homes and horses “wearing dresses” were okay, but Granny insisted on seeing what had been the backdrop to Lara’s life for the last twenty-seven years. So with Yomi back at the flat, engrossed in an episode of Glee, Granny and Lara roamed down the motorway en route to Essex in Lara’s two-seater car, chatting like two old friends. Every mile ended with an extra piece of information about Lara’s land of birth, filed in her head for later examination: African proverbs, stories of Granny’s youth, multiple tales of an obvious rivalry with the Apampas across the road from their house, more African proverbs, Grandpa Soji, house girls, wrappers, bubas, ileke idi, coconut trees, cassava, the Adi board game played under the shade of a palm tree, fresh corn on the cob. By the time they reached Essex, Lara had completed a crash course in Nigerian culture and history, and now it was Granny’s turn.

  Lara slowly drove past her old primary and secondary schools, then the site on which her college once stood, now a block of luxury apartments. As she drove, she gave Granny a detailed summary, which of course left out the bullying and first kisses.

  Driving past Mum and Dad’s, Lara wasn’t at all tempted to drop by for a chat and a cup of tea because too much had happened and she wasn’t ready to speak to Dad just yet. Mum had called and Lara had lied, said she was okay, that nothing had changed. All lies, because everything had changed.

  “You have omitted a place,” said Granny, as they headed back toward the motorway.

  “I think I showed you almost everywhere. The key places.”

  “But not your home.”

  “Mum and Dad aren’t at home,” she lied.

  “This doesn’t matter. Don’t you have key? I wanted to see where my granddotter has been living for many years of her life. It is very important.”

  Lara glanced at her quickly, and sure enough, Granny was doing the “lip thing.”

  “The day’s not over yet, Gran. You’ve still got to meet my best friend and my—”

  Lip back in. “Your fiancé?”

  “Fiancé?”

  “The man you are courting. What is the point of courting if you are not one day to marry? So he is your fiancé. Am I to meet with him?”

  “He’s away on business,” lied Lara, again. She hadn’t heard anything from Tyler since the day he’d told her they were over. With so much happening over the last few days, she’d really wanted to reach out to him, if only to feel his touch and sense his reassurance.

  “Okay, I will meet him another time then…” Granny said skeptically as Lara responded to an itchy nose.

  Granny slipped into a “happy” snooze as Lara reached Sandi via the hands-free.

  “You want to come over with your gran?” asked Sandi.

  “If that’s okay. Tea and cakes at the Cupcake House. Sorry!”

  “No problem; that’s really cool. Besides, I really want to meet your ‘other’ family.”

  “You do?” asked Lara, a little taken aback.

  “Of course I do! I really envy you. At least they gave enough of a shit to come halfway across the world to find you. I haven’t seen my lot since I was a teenager.”

  Perhaps in some ways, Sandi and Lara were still those two little lost teenagers aching to find out who they really were. And for the first time, Lara felt she was beginning to make some headway. The bit about Sandi envying her was a shock though.

  Lara clicked off as she turned a corner.

  “That gal sounds like the bird … you call it parrot … that we used to own when I was a child. Talk, talk, talk that bird. The only difference is, he only speak Yoruba.”

  “You’ll love her.”

  “A wise person once said; you can make noise at somebody or with somebody,” said Gran.

  “Are we talking about Sandi?”

  “No, I am talking about Yomi. Why have you still not embraced Yomi as you have me? Why is she not here with us? I thought you had changed your way toward her.”

  “I have a two-seater, Granny.”

  “This is an excuse.”

  “Trust me, I’m getting there. Yesterday really helped, so thank you. I just need time.”

  “I do not want thanks. It is my wish before I die to see you reunited. I am an old woman. What is time?”

  “Gran, don’t!”

  “And you don’t judge her. Try to understand her. Yomi is my dotter and I know her more than anyone in this world. She has always taken after her father, in that she is very weak. When things feel hard, something she cannot deal with, she will panic. Like your birth. She was scared for your safety.”

  “Gran, seriously, just trust me. Please. I’m getting there.”

  “Okay, I trust you.”

  If Granny felt oddly out of place surrounded by pink walls, techno music, and cupcakes, she didn’t say. She and Sandi chatted like old friends about Lara, a shared love of Bollywood films, and Granny’s promise to cook Sandi the biggest plate of amala she could, just to fatten her up and make her more eligible to a bachelor.

  “These English gals are too skinny, ah ah. You have no idi.”

  “What’s an idi?” asked Sandi.

  “Buttocks,” replied Granny. “Well, at least you have a bosom. This is something. Lara, get me another one of those fancy cakes. This time with the flower on top.”

  “Sure, Gran,” replied Lara easily, as if she’d been saying “Gran” her entire life.

  She walked up to the counter and picked out three yellow cupcakes decorated with a daisy.

  “Six pounds please, madam,” said the cashier.

  Lara handed over a twenty and thought about the time Mum had suggested opening a cupcake shop in Essex. Lara remembered saying something about the idea never catching on and “who in their right mind would pay two pounds for a little cupcake?” She now smiled at her lack of foresight, shaking her head absently in the direction of the window and that’s when she saw him.

  “Tyler?” She grabbed her change and was about to open the door and sing out his name when she noticed the tiny brunette walking beside him—knee-length skirt, pinched-in waist, high heels, cheap accessories, and vast hand gesturing as she spoke. Of course she could have been anyone. A friend—Lara hadn’t met every single one of Tyler’s friends. Or she could have just been a pretty (ish) work colleague, perhaps? No, not on a Saturday. Lara watched as they waited at the crossing, Tyler’s protective hand grazing the small of her back as they obeyed the green man and crossed to the other side of the road.

  “Miss?”

  Lara was jolted out of her torment. “Yes?”

  “Your three cupcakes?” said the cashier, handing over a plate of beautifully decorated cakes.

  Granny went off to the loo, and Lara immediately confided in her friend.

  “What are you doing?” asked Lara as Sandi poked at her phone.

  “Calling him.”

  “What? Please don’t do that!”

  “Tyler, we’re right near you, in the Cupcake House. Yeah. See you then.”

  “What have you done?” asked Lara, half thankful for the boldness of her friend.

  “He’s on his way.”

  As soon as Tyler walked in, Lara felt her tummy flip, as did probably most of the females munching on a beautifully decorated cake. He owned a confident, yet vulnerable presence she’d never seen in another man. And she’d missed that; she’d missed him.

  “So you are the Tyler?” asked Granny as Tyler stood nervously over her.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What type of name is this?”

  “My mum gave it to me—”

  “In Nigeria, a name means something and is given to a child because of a circumstance. Tyler? Are you a tie? Luckily you are a fine figure of a man. Tall, just like my Soji!”

  “Thank you?” he said in a questioning tone.

  “In Nigeria, if you are meeting an elderly member of the family for the first time, you must lie on the floor i
n greeting. You must prostrate!”

  Tyler gulped, turning to Lara and then Sandi, busy eating the icing off her cupcake.

  “It is okay, I am joking with you! You can embrace me, that is fine, my son!”

  Tyler exhaled, stooping down to embrace the older woman, warmly.

  “I like your hair,” he said to Lara.

  “Thank you.”

  “Didn’t really get the chance to tell you, the last time we spoke.”

  Lara ignored the awkwardness of his comment. “Can I get you a cupcake?”

  “Better not, I don’t think they’ll be better than your mum’s.”

  Tyler stayed a few minutes out of courtesy, and as he was leaving, Lara touched his arm and whispered, “Can I see you tonight?”

  He nodded his head slowly and, without a word, left.

  Lara drove Granny back to Artillery Court where Yomi was watching a reality TV documentary about transvestites going back to college.

  “I had a wonderful day getting to know this child’s friends and seeing where she grew up. Have you been okay?” asked Granny.

  “It is well,” replied Yomi, looking up from the TV and smiling at Lara.

  “Next time, she will take you, too, don’t you worry.”

  “If you’d like to?” asked Lara, actually meaning it.

  “I would love it,” replied Yomi with a huge smile, which revealed her gapped teeth.

  “That’s sorted then. I just have a bit to do at work, but when that’s over, say in a few days, shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Your work is very interesting. I hope you don’t mind, but I was looking at that book you left on the table with the pictures of necklaces and bracelets. They were beautiful.”

  “They are pretty good. Just some of the new lines the site is going to sell.”

  “Yomi is very knowledgeable with women’s clothes and things. It has been her business, too. Maybe you can talk about it together.”

  Lara doubted Yomi’s scant experience with a few African beads would be of any assistance, but she knew what Granny was trying to do.

  “Yes, sure, I’ll pick your brain about it sometime.”

  A look of alarm from the two older women.

  “Eh?” said Gran.

  “I mean, I’ll have a chat with you about it sometime!” Lara said, laughing.

  As Yomi fixed two mugs of Milo, Granny turned to Lara.

  “Child, why are you still here and not with that fine Tieman?”

  “Tyler?”

  “Yes. A man like that cannot be left waiting. He is … what shall I say…?” Granny pondered, her eyes squinting as she mumbled about for the words. “Sexy looking. He is sexy looking, just like my Soji. It is all in the eyes…” she said, pleased with her conclusions.

  Lara smiled. “I did say I’d go and see him tonight once you guys are settled.”

  “We are settled. Now go!”

  “To be honest, things are not ‘great’ between us,” confessed Lara.

  “I could feel it when we met,” said Granny.

  “So maybe I should give it a miss tonight.... Is there really any point?”

  “A wise man and in your case a wise woman, does not look at where she fall, but where she slipped.”

  “I think I understand … it’s just not that easy…”

  “Lara, have I imagined all of this?” she said, waving her arms about. “You taking time off your important work for me? Taking me to places, your wonderful hospitality?”

  Lara shook her head.

  “Then I can only conclude that you feel for me like I am feeling for you. Am I right?”

  “Yes, I feel for you,” smiled Lara.

  “Okay, good. So this means I have tricked you!”

  “Tricked me?”

  “I have tricked you into believing that I am going to be around forever when I am not.” She shifted in closer. “As I have said to you before, one day, Omolara, I will die. That is one certainty we have in life.”

  And taxes, Lara wanted to say, but jokes didn’t seem appropriate. Granny was getting at something, and she needed to listen.

  “So, Omolara, what are you to do now? Are you to stop feeling for me, because it is a certainty that I will one day be gone? To save you the heartache of loss?”

  “Of course not!”

  “So why do you run from Tyler? He is a good man; I could see it in his eyes and by the way he wore his shirt.”

  “What’s his shirt got to do with anything?”

  “You must never trust a man who has three loosened buttons—like the men who go to Jo Jo’s Eatery without their wives. Tyler only has two. This is good. And he has good teeth. This is good, too.

  “Ah, there is two old sayings,” continued Granny.

  “African sayings, I bet.”

  “No, English ones, I think: ‘It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved before.’ You may have heard this,” Granny said as she smiled.

  “I may have. And what’s the other one?” she asked, placing her arm around Granny’s shoulders.

  “‘Sometimes you can be afraid of what gives you the most joy.’”

  Granny was right; she had been pushing Tyler away—just like she had her other boyfriends, by letting them know just how much she didn’t need them. Lara was self-sufficient, had most of the money she needed, could fix things around the house—perhaps men at times struggled to see where they fit into her life. Weak men. But what about Tyler? He was the strongest man she’d ever met, and at times she drew from his strength without his knowledge, when she needed it.

  He gets me, she often thought. He understood where she had been and where she was headed. He loved the fact she worked so hard for what she had and he appreciated her independence, never trying to minimize her achievements. And she needed him. Needed his positive energy around her when all she saw were negatives. She needed his spontaneity when all she could think was to abide by a to-do list. She needed his practical thinking in place of her emotional one. Tyler occupied a huge place in her life, and yet she’d never bothered to tell him. Never wanted to—until now. She’d been broken, but everything that had happened over the past month had conspired beautifully to put her back together again. And, now, because she loved herself enough to love him she felt ready to make their relationship one of her top priorities and finally be the Lara she was always meant to be.

  But Tyler had already found someone else.

  “Now go and call your young man, Tieman,” said Granny, gripping her shoulders as Lara felt a fresh bond pass through them. “A handsome man like that demands attention, so you will take your time. Go and fix your hair, wear nice dress, and go to him. Yomi and I will be fine here once you have showed us how to operate that troublesome light switch.”

  Lara did as she was told and found herself in Tyler’s familiar living room just over an hour and a half later.

  “You look great,” he said, appraising her braids, now gathered high up on her head with pins and hooks thanks to Yomi’s rapid hairdressing skills. The silk skirt and footless tights had caused Granny to make a face, but Lara knew Tyler had always liked the ensemble.

  “Thanks for today, with Gran. She really loves you.”

  “That’s okay. She’s a lovely lady,” replied Tyler. Lara wanted to ask him who he’d been with earlier and why he hadn’t introduced them if she was just a “friend.” But she was afraid of what he might tell her.

  “It was good to see you, Lara. But strange that you were in a cupcake shop. Does your mum know?” He smiled.

  “I know! My mum could have made me better ones but … it’s a long story.”

  “Why did Sandi call me?”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. I just thought that if you saw me, you’d be the one to call.”

  “She knew I was missing you a little, but then I saw—”

  “You were missing me a little?” he said with a sigh.

  “Okay, a lot. I’ve b
een missing you and I just wanted to say … what I really wanted to tell you—”

  The phone interrupted them.

  “You’d better take that,” he said.

  “No, let it ring out.”

  The phone stopped.

  “This is hard for me,” she said.

  “It shouldn’t be. And that’s the point.”

  Lara had to do it. She needed to tell Tyler how she felt and, for the very first time, just how much she felt about him. “What I wanted to tell you—” she began, and then the sound of Tyler’s phone interrupted.

  “It’s Sandi,” he said, staring at the caller display. He answered, and Lara watched his face slowly shift from surprised annoyance to worry.

  “We’ll be right over,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “Lara, it’s about your dad.”

  Chapter 26

  The traffic jam meant they were stationary for most of the journey to Essex. Lara was on the phone to a panicked Brian, who was keeping her updated on Dad’s progress.

  Dad had had an attack.

  His heart. He was in the hospital and it might be serious. Tyler had swiftly helped Lara into the passenger seat of his car and sped off in the direction of Essex, the journey hampered by various motorway holdups and delays.

  “What if he’s dead?” she said, prickles of alarm fighting for space within her entire body as she tried unsuccessfully not to think of a worst-case scenario.

  “Baby, remain calm. We won’t know anything until we get there. But he’s definitely not dead.”

  “Can you promise me that?” she asked, knowing how ridiculous she sounded. But she needed something, anything to get through this journey.

  “Yes, I can.”

  She gazed out the window, tears streaming down her face, a sick curdle in her stomach. She’d been tapping the edge of the car seat throughout most of the journey. Losing count. Starting up again. Then abandoning the whole process. She just wanted her dad to be okay. She needed him to be okay.