It's Just Lola

by Dixiane Hallaj

  “May I come in?” James stood in the half-opened door.

  “Please do.”

  “I missed you earlier so I brought tea.” He entered with a tray with two cups of tea and a plate of cookies.

  “How very British of you.” Lola laughed and cleared her desk. “I was pleased to hear that you had a successful trip.” Lola was expecting an answer, but James sat quietly, sipping his tea. She waited for him to speak. Seconds passed and Lola was getting uncomfortable with the lengthening silence.

  “I spoke with your father yesterday.”

  “I hope you had a nice conversation.”

  “Yes.” There was another long pause.

  “I brought you a present.” He pulled a small package from his pocket and placed it in front of Lola.

  “A present?” She was excited that he had thought of her, but hesitated to take the package; it might be improper for her to accept a gift from him.

  “Your father said I might give it to you.” Lola was puzzled, but at least that let her know that accepting the gift did not cross any lines of propriety. “Please, open it.”

  “Ooooh.” Lola could not contain her exclamation as she looked at the ring. The small gold circle was adorned with a diamond, surrounded by tiny gems of different colors. They made her think of rubies and emeralds, but she knew almost nothing of gemstones. “It’s so beautiful,” she said. “I couldn’t possibly accept this.”

  “It isn’t just a gift. It’s a token of my affection.” Lola was stunned. “It’s called a dearest ring. ‘Dearest’ is an English term of endearment. The ring itself tells you its name and its meaning. The word ‘dearest’ is made from the letters of the gems.”

  “I—I—” Lola was speechless, but James wasn’t listening for an answer.

  “See the diamond in the middle? That’s the D in dearest.” He picked up her pen and used it to point at the smaller stones. “Then comes emerald, amethyst, ruby, emerald again, sapphire, and finally topaz. Together it spells d-e-a-r-e-s-t or dearest.” He looked up and met Lola’s eyes. “I hope you like it.” Again, he didn’t wait for her to speak. “If you do me the honor of marrying me, it would please me beyond measure. I always wanted a family and despaired of fulfilling that dream. It would give me the greatest happiness if you and your wonderful children would be my family.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Lola was flattered, but James was more than twice her age. She was happy now on the plantation, and she couldn’t deprive Yousef of his inheritance.

  “Your father said he wouldn’t speak for you, or even encourage you. However, he did say that as long as I promised not to take you away from here, he would give us his blessing.”

  With a flash of understanding, Lola knew what was in her father’s mind. His succession now rested on one small boy, still too young to have proven his ability to survive the normal childhood illnesses and accidents. Lola battled to contain her emotions as she recognized the pattern. Was James being encouraged to fulfill the role that Mehmet had served for his first father-in-law? Even more important than her father’s motives was her own question: would that necessarily be a bad thing? There was no doubt that James was fond of her children. James shifted in his seat, reminding her that he was waiting for her response.

  “You agreed to live, on the plantation? What about your work?”

  “My work takes me many places, and most of them are crude uncomfortable jungles. It would be far better for you and the children to remain here. Following me from job to job would be impossible. I cannot but think the arrangement would be perfect for both of us.”

  Lola asked for time to consider his sudden proposal. She went for a solitary walk by the river. The phrase “the arrangement would be perfect for both of us” echoed in her mind. It would be perfect for both of them. James would get a warm bed between jobs, and her father would get a more secure succession. She didn’t fool herself that it was James’ inability with words that robbed the proposal of all passion.

  What would she get? Her feelings for James were barely affection, but love could grow from affection. She thought of Estela and Yousef, and the joy she felt when she held a baby to her breast. Her dreams had always included a house full of children.

  Victoria was ecstatic to send out the holiday party invitations as a celebration of the betrothal of her sister, Lola Osman, nee Herrera, to the English gentleman, James Atkins.

  XII. March 1914: Lola Barely 20

  “No, Estela, I don’t want to be the baby today! I want to be the papa.” Yousef’s petulant voice caused Lola to look over at the two children who were solemnly constructing a house by spreading a sheet over some small chairs. Satisfied that the remark was not going to turn into a squabble, she turned her attention back to her husband.

  “Shall I pour you another cup of tea?” The long verandah was no longer the exclusive domain of the children. Lola happily adopted the custom of afternoon tea whenever James was home, and the verandah was the perfect setting. Marta used that time to visit her ailing mother and tea became an intimate family time.

  “James, what did you say to upset Father yesterday?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Credit me with some powers of observation. He glared at you all evening, drank more than he should, and shut himself in the library afterward—presumably drinking even more.”

  “It’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

  Lola inhaled deeply, concentrating on the aroma of the Earl Grey tea James had brought with him when he returned from his latest job. She let out her breath slowly to keep the anger from her voice. “Have you forgotten that one of the reasons you said you wanted to marry me was that my head also contained a mind? Please answer my question.”

  “Very well, if you insist on spoiling our tea with bad news, I’ll tell you.” James put his tea cup down so hard it splashed drops of tea onto the saucer.

  “I told him his railway will never be built.”

  “How could you?”

  “Don’t blame me—I’m only the messenger.”

  “What happened?”

  “You’re the one who claims to be so clever. Think about what you read in the papers, or are you too busy now to read the papers?”

  “I admit I find the news terribly depressing these days—it’s just filled with European squabbling.”

  “Exactly. European squabbling accompanied by military posturing. It’s bound to lead to war.”

  “So what does that have to do with us?”

  James shook his head. “Resources. They’re building ships, which takes a lot of steel. What do you think that means?”

  “Oh,” said Lola, her anger already a thing of the past. “It means the price of steel will probably go up.”

  “Make that has gone up.”

  “How dreadful for Papa.”

  “It’s all for the best. It was never a very practical idea.”

  “But you were one of the strongest supporters.”

  “That was a job; it was before I had any interest in this plantation,” said James calmly. “You know how hard it was to get everyone to agree to the project in the first place. Now that steel is more expensive, the other landowners will withdraw. Your father can’t carry it through by the force of his will.”

  Lola had seen her father’s eyes shine and his step quicken as he worked with the other landowners. “He must be heartbroken.”

  James shrugged. “The exciting part of the project was complete, as far as I’m concerned. It’s always a great satisfaction to walk through a raw untamed jungle and have the vision of the finished product, to know that I can see my way through to the rail line or the bridge or the road bed, and to get all the steps on paper. The rest is mere drudgery.”

  “That’s all you cared about? The planning?”

  “Lola, you must admit that you were excited as we converted ideas into practical numbers that changed the dream into a plan.”

  “Yes, but my excitement was about opening do
ors of opportunity for the family. The planning was exciting, but it would’ve been much more exciting to see the dream turn into reality, to see an actual train leave our plantation filled with our goods.”

  James smiled. “You’re right, of course. Seeing a dream become reality is exciting. I once had a dream of having a wife and family, and now I have the reality, so let’s not waste our time together arguing. I have another job in Ecuador and have to leave in a week. Let’s enjoy the time we have together. Why don’t we picnic with the children by the river tomorrow?”

  How could he be so callous? How could he kill the dream that had made her father walk with pride again, and dismiss it so casually? Her heart filled with her father’s pain and disappointment, but her duty was to her husband.

  “All right. I have to work in the morning, especially with Papa being upset, but a lunch picnic sounds nice.”

  “That’s settled, then. Now, if you don’t object, I promised the children I’d give them a ride on a horse this afternoon. They complained that they always have to ride in a wagon or a carriage.”

  The next day Lola rose before anyone else was awake and went to the stables, hoping to talk to her father. His chestnut mare was still in her stall, but his aging stallion was gone. “Don’t worry.” She rubbed the mare’s nose. “He just took his old friend with him to mourn his dream.” She made her rounds quickly. Satisfied that everything was running smoothly, she rode back to the stables. She knew James would be angry if she wasn’t ready for the picnic.

  She was surprised to see Marta coming toward her as she hurried to the house.

  “Señora Lola,” Marta said, “I left the picnic basket by the front door.”

  “I told you to carry the basket and wait for us before you went to see your mother.”

  “Señora Jacoba said she wanted some time with the children, and she took them down to the river. I told her I was to wait there for you, but she insisted the children needed time alone with their grandmother.”

  “And what did James say?”

  “Señor James is in the library with the door closed. I didn’t want to disturb him.”

  “Very well, Marta.” Lola understood Marta’s reluctance to disturb James. He treated the house staff as Lola imagined he treated the men who worked under him. “We’ll take the basket with us.”

  Lola hastened to the house and burst into the library. “James, we must go now. Please carry the picnic basket. It’s by the door.” James wrinkled his nose.

  “You still reek of the stables.”

  “Never mind; we’ll be outside.”

  Lola started for the door. “Jacoba told Marta to go home and took the children. I don’t like leaving them alone.” She walked toward the river as fast as she could. James picked up the basket and followed.

  “What’s the hurry?” James tried to slow her down. “This is supposed to be fun, remember?”

  “It’s just that Jacoba has been acting strangely.”

  “You’re imagining things. She’s been quite friendly and civil.”

  “That’s what’s so strange.”

  “What a dreadful thing to say about your own mother.” James made no attempt to hide his disapproval of Lola’s words.

  “Step.”

  “What?”

  “Stepmother. She’s my stepmother”

  “Most children resent stepparents. I’m sure your dislike of her has much more to do with her marrying your father than it does with anything she’s actually said or done.” Lola didn’t reply. Maybe James was right, but she wanted to be with her children whenever Jacoba was around. They rounded a bend in the path and Jacoba was walking toward them.

  “Where are the children?” Lola shouted at her.

  “At the river with Marta, of course. I wanted a little exercise, so I walked to the river with the children.” Lola was already sprinting. James dropped the basket and passed her quickly with his longer stride.

  Lola could barely breathe as her legs pumped and she ran. Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it in spite of the fear that made her sure it must be frozen in her chest. How could anyone leave two children alone near a river?

  “Yousef, get up!” she heard the shrill voice of Estela.

  “Dear God,” Lola prayed silently, “dear God help my little boy.” At last she burst into the clearing by the river.

  James was knee deep in the water holding Yousef by the ankles, shaking him with his head dangling down. Estela was farther out in the river, struggling to stay on her feet as she tried to reach James.

  “What’re you doing?” Lola screamed.

  “Trying to drain the water out of him.”

  Lola waded into the water and grabbed Yousef from her husband. “Get Estela.” Yousef was pale and limp in her arms. There was an ugly bruise on his forehead. She raced the few steps to the shore and laid the motionless boy on the ground. She tried to check his pulse as she watched for his chest to rise with a breath. Her hands were shaking too badly to feel a heartbeat. She placed her ear on his mouth but felt nothing. A scream rose in Lola’s throat, but she swallowed it along with her panic. She took a deep breath, and tried to visualize the books she had read.

  An unnatural calm settled over her as she recalled the instructions. Feeling strangely detached and separated from reality, she tilted Yousef’s head back and put her mouth over his, gently blowing into it. It didn’t work! She blew harder and felt the small lungs expand. Raising her head she pressed on his chest, to force the air back out. Lowering her head, she breathed into the small mouth again, and again trying to force the air in and out of his lungs. Again…again…again. Somewhere in the background she heard James say something, and Estela’s response. Confident that Estela was safe on high ground, she shut out the voices and kept trying to force her son to breathe.

  Yousef coughed! Relief flooded through Lola. Yousef gagged and she turned him onto his side. He vomited and his eyelids opened. He began to cry and Lola picked him up and hugged him in a fierce embrace. Her hands began to shake again and tears streamed down her face, joining the river water that was still dripping off Yousef. Her little boy was alive!

  “Let me take him.” James reached for Yousef.

  Lola couldn’t let go. She sat and rocked him back and forth.

  “Is Yousef sick?” asked Estela.

  “No, he’ll be fine.”

  “We need to get all of you warm and dry.” James was so practical. Reluctantly she surrendered Yousef and tried to stand. She felt as though her legs were made of green twigs that bent beneath her weight. James shifted Yousef to one arm and reached down and helped Lola to her feet. Once standing, she took several deep breaths, willing her body to obey her. She reached for Yousef again.

  “Help Estela. You can’t carry him all the way.” They began walking toward the house.

  “How did you know what to do?” asked James.

  “I read medical books in my spare time.”

  They both shied away from talking about how it happened that the children were alone near the river.

  Lola took the children straight to the kitchen where she asked Pilar for a hot tub and some chicken broth. Pilar’s eyes widened and her mouth opened to ask questions, but Lola forestalled her with a finger on her lips and a glance at Estela. “Just a small accident by the river,” Lola said quietly as she took up a stance near the warm cook stove and held the two children close to her.

  By the time the children were clean and wrapped in warm towels, Pilar had steaming bowls of broth set out for them. James came to help her carry them upstairs. Lola felt exhausted. She welcomed James’ suggestion of a nap before dinner. She was pleasantly surprised to see that James had moved the children’s beds into their own bedroom.

  “It looks like wall-to-wall bed,” she laughed.

  “The children might feel better in the same room with us rather than by themselves,” James said.

  “And I’ll feel better having them with us.” She put her arms around her husban
d and whispered a thank you. He may have been unfeeling toward her father, but he did care deeply for the children.

  “I’ll talk to your father after dinner tonight,” whispered James after the children were asleep.

  “Be careful what you say. It’s not always easy to guess how he’ll react regarding Jacoba.” Lola didn’t add that he sometimes treated his wife worse than a servant, but other times was fiercely protective of her. She looked at Yousef’s peaceful face. She was certain she wouldn’t be able to close her eyes, but the events of the day had left her physically and emotionally drained. The next thing she knew Marta was tapping on the door asking if they were dressing for dinner.

  Lola and James dressed hurriedly, and asked Marta to stay in the room with the children. “Don’t leave until I come back,” said Lola.

  “Rosa said there was an accident at the river,” said Marta anxiously. “Are the children all right?”

  “Yes, thank you. They’re fine. Yousef has a bump on his head where he tripped and fell into the water, and we all managed to get very wet rescuing him.” Lola smiled and gave Marta a quick hug. James cleared his throat and Lola understood—he didn’t approve of her being so familiar with the servants.

  Lola gripped James’ hand as they went into the dining room. Her steps faltered as she wondered how she could sit across the table from Jacoba.

  “Are you all right?” asked James. “You look pale.”

  Lola nodded and gripped his hand even tighter.

  Jacoba began to talk almost before they were seated.

  “I was so sorry to hear there was an accident at the river today. Are the children all right?”

  “Yes, thank God. They’re just tired, and we thought it best for them to eat early. It was a stressful day,” said James.

  Enrique looked at James. “Why haven’t I heard about this?”

  James smiled as he answered. “Be thankful. Had it been any worse, you would surely have heard. Yousef tripped and fell into the water. It looked as though he hit his head on a rock.” James reached across the table and touched Lola’s hand, a rare gesture in the presence of other people.