by Grace, Pella
“Help me hang it, would you?”
I wave her off. “I’m not really good at that part.”
Her lips smile and she calls another housekeeper in to hang it above a cream-colored sofa. A brown envelope is handed to me and I wish that was it. I wish I could go home.
“Isn’t it beautiful, Lilla?”
Her eyes look to the painting and then me. Beth sets down a glass of lemonade and I choose to keep my eyes on it.
“Yes,” is all she replies.
“I think you two would be a great match for the Villa Blanca Campaign. I’d like for you to exchange numbers. Get together with Cash, Lilla, show him what we’ve already planned out. Cash, come up with a few designs, I’d be interested to see what that mind of yours creates. As always.”
“I’m sorry, what is this for?” I ask.
“A shopping center my family recently purchased, for renovations. Cutting off the dead wood. Giving the city something that doesn’t resemble a shanty. Lilla will fill you in.”
“I’m not sure I have time to work on another project, but thank you,” I lie.
Melanie’s hand rests on mine. “Darling, trust me, you have time.”
“I really don’t.”
Her eyes aren’t pleased. I should probably be groveling for this type of job and she is throwing it at me. Her family is the reason why I have that car parked in my parent’s garage and a place to call my own. The reason why anyone who is anyone knows I exist.
Melanie’s hand rips a scrap off Lilla’s paper and clicks a pen. The scrap is slid along the table toward me. I eye the numbers on it.
“Still too busy?”
I shake my head.
She takes the paper and rips it in half, tossing it into her ashtray.
“Didn’t think so.” Melanie scoots back from the table. “Be a gem and walk Lilla to her car. I have a fundraiser tonight and I must be getting dressed.”
I watch as she exits the room, and then turn slowly towards Lilla. She is putting away her things. Glances to me briefly.
“I’m okay. You don’t have to walk me out.”
“It’s no big deal,” I shrug.
I take one of her bags as we walk to the door. Instinctively I lay a hand on her back as we cross the steps, reaching the driveway. Quickly I pull away, handing over her belongings when we make it to her car.
“Um,” she looks to her feet. “I need to give you something. I mean, you’re going to want to know what you’re getting into. I mean, I have plans. For you. I mean …” she sighs. “I have the stuff, the freaking plans for Cruella’s shopping center.”
“Cruella?”
Her hand mimics Mel’s smoking her cigarette. “Dahhling I want to buy and skin all your precious puppies.” She tokes from a fake holder, rolling her eyes.
“Mel’s alright.”
“Ha,” she opens her car door, tossing her bag inside.
“She gave me my start. I wouldn’t have sold anything if it wasn’t for her. Her family.”
“In that case,” Lilla says, “I wish I was a painter.”
Everything packed up, ready to go. Only the cool breeze between us. Only awkward tension speaking up.
“I can make copies and drop them off at the store if you’d like?”
“I don’t even know what she wants me to do.”
“We’re supposed to collaborate on the advertising campaign. I think she wants you to take what’s in my head and bring it to life.”
“Copies of stupid fucking shopping mall plans aren’t going to do that.”
She lowers her eyes. “I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how it works. For you.”
My hands rub over my face. “Just come to my apartment. Fuck.”
My feet start to walk away.
“Cash …” Did I already say fuck? “Warren, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you didn’t know Melanie was one of my clients. It’s fine. We’ll do this, get paid and move on.”
Her head shakes. “I’m not talking about this project. I’m sorry I hurt you the other day. You just … caught me off guard.”
She smiles sadly, looking down. “It’s easy sometimes to blame everyone else. My marriage is crap so obviously it’s Adam’s fault. My career is crap so obviously it’s my boss’s fault. Never mind the fact that every time something bothers me, I keep my feelings to myself. I keep Adam in the dark about everything and expect him to somehow be in touch with me. I put fifty percent of myself into my work and expect to be rewarded one hundred percent. And I blame everyone and everything but myself. “
I take a few steps towards her. “You just did.”
She looks up. “What?”
“Took the blame. You just did.”
Lilla nods. “Said it to the wrong person, so, not really.”
“If you told Adam what you just told me, what would he say?”
“Probably agree with me.”
I nod. “Then you’d still be in the same place.”
“It’s not his fault. He does what any woman would want. Would ask for in a husband. He’s a good provider. A good person. Would do anything for anyone. If I explained to someone why I’m unhappy they would look at me like I have two heads and tell me to grow up.”
“Wanting your husband to love you isn’t a sin.”
“He does. That’s my whole point.”
“You can love someone without being in love with them, Lilla. There’s a difference.”
“How can you tell?”
My feet move, stopping just as my body presses lightly to hers. Backs of my fingers grazing lightly over the flush in her cheeks.
“Does it ever feel like that?”
Her eyes look to mine.
“There’s a difference between love and lust, too.”
“Ah, you’re hurting my feelings again,” I tease.
“I can’t compare you to Adam. That’s what I’ve been trying to say. You’re completely different.”
“Is that good or bad—that’s all I’ve been trying to ask.”
“I don’t have an answer to that.”
“Shit, Lilla, do I feel good or not? It’s not that complicated.”
“It’s extremely complicated because the answer to that question is yes. It’s the most perfectly-imperfect wrong-right feeling I’ve ever felt.”
The force behind her words, lined with dirty marks on her cheeks from her liner running—black smudges of hurt—truth … it speaks to my feet, moving closer. It reaches my hands reaching for her sorrow, with the bottom of my shirt.
“Don’t make my mother a liar, Lilla.”
A heavy retraction, sniffling back everything she has spilled in her boss’s driveway to me.
“What are you talking about?”
My shirt is smudged with her make-up as I wipe it all way.
“She said you were incredibly beautiful.” Her eyes ask an obvious question. “You’ll see.”
One last swipe across her dirty cheek with my thumb.
I sit in my car and watch as she leaves, but, she’s right here, marked all over my shirt, my hands. It’s an odd, alien feeling. It’s a slow burn that is igniting quickly. I feel too full, like my insides will begin to bubble over, warm milk on a hot stove left unattended.
I always believed it was possible.
My parents are a fine example of love. I’ve said it before to girls. I’ve truly thought I felt it in my soul. I’d thought I’d seen it in another. And perhaps, I had loved them. And perhaps, it was simply that. Love. How many times do you say ‘I love this bed.’ ‘I love this movie.’ ‘I love these cookies.’
Love.
Yes, you can love without lust.
Yes, you can love without being in love.
The difference? I know there’s one.
So simply I spoke those words, only a few minutes ago.
The irony … ah.
I almost want to punch myself. Pinch.
The fire. A burn. A wound that won’t heal.
<
br /> Nowhere within twenty miles of myself and she sits right here at my side. My reflection in the rearview mirror. The song on the radio. A vision I can’t blink away.
Love.
Love.
Love.
PART FIVE
LILLA KING
Chapter Fourteen
Two things happen when you realize your heart has abandoned you.
One: you question everything you have ever done, ever been, ever thought. You have no answers. You have nothing.
Two: if you’re smart, you try to figure out all of the above, with a new pair of feet leading the way.
At the beginning of my day, I knew none of this.
Two tickets greeted me on the dry-ease board when I woke up this morning, pressed into the corkboard on the left-hand side. Black words scribbled poorly asking me to meet Adam for a movie date this evening.
I am …
Perplexed.
Looking over my shoulders.
Expecting someone to pop out and yell, “Gotcha!”
The house is quiet as quiet gets and I am its only companion. My cell beeps as I head upstairs and it’s him, asking if I saw the tickets. I send a text back saying yes, too afraid to call my own husband because I don’t even know how to sound on the phone anymore. It’s as awkward as awkward gets.
“Was sleep an asshole to you too last night, Lil?”
Cash pulls me from my reverie.
“Yeah. No. Actually … it’s … I think I’m being tricked.”
His lips wrap around the mouth of a water bottle, taking a long sip, before offering it to me.
“By who?”
“Adam asked me out on a date. Well, he actually invited me. I think. I don’t know.”
His eyes squint. “Okay, let’s try that again, but with a story that makes sense, Honey-girl.”
“Adam left tickets for me to go somewhere with him and he’s just being creepily nice. My brain is seriously not right, I’m telling you. I want him to be romantic and nice and just like this, and then he does and I’m questioning every single motive as to why and trying to come up with an illness that will allow me to wiggle my way out of going.”
Cash shrugs, “Because you don’t love him.”
“Don’t say that.”
“If I asked you to go somewhere with me, you’d say yes. You’d smile like I was the best thing ever and we’d have the best time ever.” He takes the water back. “It’s been proven. Several times.”
“By that logic it would I mean I love you.”
“Thank you,” he grins. “I love you, too.”
“You’re the wrong person to talk to about this. Forget I said it and ignore my awkward behavior while we run?”
“Why are people so afraid to love?” He asks.
“I didn’t say I was.”
“Your body went completely rigid and you’d like to change the subject.”
“I’m standing on the beach with the person I’m cheating on my husband with talking to him about my husband … you expect me to be smiling and batting my purty little lashes?”
“Alright fine. I love you.”
My body goes completely rigid, as previously described.
“Stop that!”
He moves closer, nuzzling into my sweaty neck.
“I love you. I love you, I love, love, love, love you.”
“Two seconds from introducing your balls to my knee cap, Warren.”
“My balls love you, too. They will whisper to your knee cap how much so. Do it. I dare you.”
I push him away, hating myself for smiling.
The ocean waves eat away at the silence. I busy my mouth with his stolen water. Cash has a hard time shutting up. My eyes have a hard time not looking at him. His lips talk to the ocean.
“People are only afraid of love because they put too much pressure on love. Aside from forgiveness, love probably has the hardest job in the universe. Think of the hype romantic love has to live up to. A soul mate? I mean, the title alone is enough to send love running.
“You have a Lover and you expect them to be your grandma, your mom, your dad, your boss, your sister, brother, your therapist, the fucking sunrise, stars and moon. They want it all.
“Love’s greatest problem is the people who don’t understand what it’s all about. You want it all, you’re going to fail at love. You want a piece of the pie, love is going to taste fucking scrumptious. Love isn’t your puppet. You can’t pull love’s strings. Love should pull yours.
“So yeah, I love you. You’re beautiful, weird, funny, and we have a good time together. It doesn’t mean I love you run away from Adam with me. It simply means you’re Lilla and I love Lilla. She has a place here—” he circles around his chest. “Another one here.” Cash pats his shoulder.
His eyes stay on the grey water. My mouth sticks.
PART SIX
CASH
Chapter Fifteen
“Can we borrow some sugar, kind sir?”
“Georgia?” I cock my head, trying to understand. “Why are you wearing a Batman costume?”
“Shh,” she puts her finger over her mouth, “Trying to keep a low profile.”
“Yeah, ’cause dressing up as a superhero in the middle of fucking summer is what everyone does. Inside of our apartment hallway, no less.”
“Please just give her the sugar,” Hattie, her roommate, chimes in, pushing past me—pausing when she spots Lilla on my couch. “Oh crap. You were getting laid, weren’t you? Georgia, we shouldn’t prevent this phenomenon from taking place.”
I smile at Lilla’s cherry cheeks.
“Unfortunately Georgia knocked before the drugs kicked in.”
“Want us to come back later?” Hattie teases.
“How much sugar do you need?”
“A lot!” Georgia sprints past us, jumping and landing on the couch, beside Lilla, making our papers flutter about. “If you need rescuing, we are making double-fudge brownies and have room for one more.”
“Leave Lilla alone, Georgia. We’re working.”
Georgia leans in to her, whispering with her hand cupped.
“Are you being held prisoner?”
“Yes,” Lilla replies, making Hattie smile. “It’s pure torture.”
Georgia glares over her shoulder to me. “I knew it.”
I look to Hattie, “How are you friends with this person?”
She shrugs. “She does my taxes for free.”
“I heard that!”
Hattie pushes me into the kitchen, away from Georgia.
I open the pantry door, looking for sugar. “Not sure I should leave Lilla alone with her.”
“Afraid she’ll spill your secrets, Cash?”
“I don’t have secrets.”
She hands me an empty plastic container. “I haven’t heard of or seen this Lilla girl before. Makes her a secret.”
“A secret is something you’re trying to hide. Lilla is an untold story. There’s a difference.”
“So tell.” She sits on the counter, holding the container as I pour the bag of sugar.
Keeping my voice low. “Keep this between us?”
“Always do,” she smiles.
“I don’t really know her … but … I fucking know her. I couldn’t tell you what kind of music she likes or shit about her childhood, favorite color—but I look at this girl—and I know her.”
Her eyes appraise my face, happiness lingering in her features. “I think it’s called love at first sight?”
“No,” I shake my head. “I could never be that cheesy. Purposely or otherwise.”
She laughs. “Maybe you knew each other in a past life.”
“That soul mate shit is just as bad as the first thing you said.” I roll the top of the paper bag, putting the clip back on.
“Kindred spirits?”
“I’m not trying to label it. You asked and that’s the best description I have to offer.”
“Coulda said hey that’s my girlfriend.”
>
“I’m not really into lying.”
“If you’re so gaga about her ask her out, Cash.”
“Can’t.” I put the sugar back into the pantry, then lean against the closed door. “She’s already taken.”
Hattie sucks her teeth. “Shit. I thought finally you would get to lose that virginity of yours.”
“Pff. Like twenty years ago, maybe.”
“You were like a sperm, Warren.”
“Exactly. Women wanted to fuck me before I even existed.”
“Such a charmer.”
Georgia jumps into the kitchen. Yeah—jumps. Her bare feet smacking against the floor.
“Have we obtained the secret ingredient, Red Warrior?”
“You and your Batman costume need to get the fuck out of my kitchen, Georgia.”
Hattie hops down from the counter, shaking the container at her. Georgia puts out her hands, flinging herself against the wall in an effort to sneak away. You know, because we didn’t see her knock on my door, or jump into the kitchen or speak or anything.
She pauses, hand on the doorknob, looking back to Lilla.
“Scream Riiiiiiicollllaaaaa if you need us to come for you.”
“If Lilla needs help coming, you’re the last person who is going to help in that department, Georgia.”
Some type of hand-chop to my chest. I stare at her. She pulls her black cape over half of her face, pointing with her free hand.
“To the Bat Cave, Red Warrior!”
Hattie watches Georgia sprint back to her apartment, before looking at me. Then to Lilla.
“Nice to have … not met you,” she laughs.
I groan. “Sorry. Lilla this is Hattie—she used to stuff wet sand down my pants when we were five—Hattie, this is Lilla. She likes putting wet things near my pants, too. You guys would be great friends.”
“I should have drowned him instead, saving you from that highly embarrassing introduction, Lilla. Apologies?”
I put Hattie in a playful headlock, holding her from behind.
“We’re just working on a project together. Right, Lilla?” My lips mouth I love you, grinning at her face.
“Yeah. Cash is illustrating an advertising campaign I’m assigned to.”