His mother made a noise in the back of her throat, something between a whimper and a cry.
“It’ll be ok,” he promised. “We can buy a new frame and reprint the picture, but first we need to get your cuts cleaned up.”
To his relief, when he reached for the frame, she let him take it, and he carefully set it on the end table near his recliner. Blood dripped from her fingers, and Nate saw that she had cuts on both hands.
“Lila, I’m going to grab your elbow to help you up, okay?” She still wasn’t looking at him, so he couldn’t know for sure how she would react to touch, but, thankfully, she nodded, and he got her to her feet.
“Let’s go to my bathroom to wash your cuts.”
He led her down the hall and turned off the big overhead light in his bathroom, leaving only the vanity illuminated. He ran the tap in his sink and adjusted the temperature until it was warm.
“Rinse your fingers off while I get some bandages,” he said softly.
His mother complied as he searched through the medicine cabinet. Now that there was a plan in action, Lila seemed much more at ease. She still wouldn’t look at him, and she wasn’t saying much, but it was a step in the right direction.
“Let me just look at these,” he said, motioning to her hands. Lila held them still and let him touch her. Nate carefully examined her fingers. She had cuts across the forefinger and thumb of her right hand and one across the pad of her left middle finger. None was very deep, and he didn’t see any splinters of glass.
“I’m going to dry them gently and put some medicine on each cut.”
Nate patted her hands dry on a clean towel and unscrewed the cap on the Polysporin.
“You know,” he said, carefully squeezing the ointment onto the first cut. “I have all of our family pictures scanned onto my Mac. I’m sure that picture of you and Richland is in one of the folders.”
He watched Lila blink at this information. Blinking was better than staring.
“That picture is 8x10. I bet there are some nice 8x10 frames at Albertson’s,” he continued.
He watched Lila’s eyes glaze as she scanned the grocery store shelves in her mind.
“And I’ll bet you already know which one you like the best,” Nate teased, beginning to smile.
To his delight, a smile came to Lila’s face. She didn’t look at him. He knew she was picturing the frame she would buy.
“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled. “And don’t they sell photo paper at the camera counter?”
“They sell Epson Premium High Glossy 8x10 Bright White Photo Paper and Fujicolor Crystal Archive RA-4 Color Print Paper 8x10,” she said, angling her face almost toward his as if she were talking to his left shoulder.
Nate felt a smile split his face.
“Is that so? You’re really something, you know that?”
She nodded.
“Richland told me on Saturday, April 13, 1991 at 4:27 p.m.,” she informed him.
Nate laughed, and Lila’s smile grew.
“Okay,” he said, securing the last Band-Aid. “No digging in the garden without gloves for the next week. Got it?”
“Got it,” she echoed, smiling shyly and still avoiding his eyes.
No matter how Nate tried, he could never reach her the way Richland had. The man had held a bond with Lila that no one else could touch. As much as Nate missed the man who had raised him, he also missed the woman his mother had been when she and Richland were together.
“C’mon. It’s Friday. How about some potato soup and French bread?”
Lila nodded, and Nate led her back to the kitchen.
He took down the carton of Pacific Potato & Leek soup, set a saucepan on the stove, and grabbed a mini baguette from the freezer. As he worked, Lila stood close to him and looked to her right. Nate understood that this was her way of enjoying his company.
“Would you like to listen to some music?” he asked as he stirred the simmering pot.
Lila nodded.
If he gave her the choice, they would listen to Dave Brubeck’s “Take 5” for the eighty billionth time. But he’d played Vampire Weekend’s Modern Vampires of the City, a few times, and she had liked it. When Lila liked a piece of music, she would walk up to one of his speakers and place her palms against the front and sway from side to side.
Nate left the stove, pulled up his iTunes, and tapped “Unbelievers.”
He suspected it was the drumming rhythm she liked best. Something about the pattern of drums and the surprise of cymbals that the indie pop band incorporated intrigued her, and as expected, Lila went to the speaker closest to his kitchen.
“Richland was a good man,” she said, only just audible above the music.
“Yes, he was,” Nate replied, looking over his shoulder at her but still stirring the soup. Her back was to him with her hands pressed to the speaker. Perhaps something about the song brought Richland to mind.
“You are a good man,” Lila said, still facing away from him.
Nate stopped stirring. It wasn’t the first time she’d said it to him, but he could count on one hand the number of times she had.
“Thank you, Lila.”
Nate watched his mother sway back and forth to a pattern in the song he couldn’t discern. He smiled and was turning toward the stove again when her words stopped him.
“Blythe is a good woman.”
The spoon he was holding slipped from his fingers, and potato and leek soup splashed onto his t-shirt.
“Wh-what did you say?”
Lila danced her solitary dance and said nothing.
The soup burned him through his shirt. Nate grabbed a paper towel to wipe away the scalding spill, and as he cleaned the spot with cold water, Lila chose to speak again.
“Blythe is a good woman.”
Nate turned the flame down and walked up behind his mother. His heart raced, and he tried to calm his voice before questioning her. Lila had not mentioned the name of his first love in six years.
First love? He asked himself. How about only love?
“Lila, did you see Blythe?”
He watched the back of her head nod.
“Today? At the store?”
Again, she nodded.
Now his pulse sounded in his ears.
But what does it matter? He asked himself. So what if she’s in from New Orleans?
“She’s probably visiting her family,” he said aloud, as much to himself as to Lila.
His mother shook her head.
“No? She’s not visiting?” he asked, completely thrown.
Lila shook her head again.
“How do you know?”
Nate knew she wouldn’t answer. He wasn’t asking the right way. What had she seen to make her think Blythe wasn’t in town for a mere visit? Nate stepped around to face his mother.
“What was she buying, Lila?”
She tilted her chin to the left, and her gaze froze.
“Kotex Natural Balance Security Tampons Super, Glade Plug-Ins Scented Oil Clean Linens 2 Refills, Swiffer Dusters Starter Kit, Acadiana Jobs Weekly, Driscoll’s Strawberries Sweet Organic Pick 16 oz., Gardein Seven Grain Crispy Tenders, Blue Diamond Almond Breeze Unsweetened Almond Milk Vani—”
“Lila—”
“Nature’s Greens Organic Kale Greens—”
“Lila… Lila.”
She stopped.
“How many items did Blythe purchase?” he asked, willing himself to stay calm.
“twenty-nine.”
Nate blew out the breath he was holding. Maybe she wasn’t just visiting. The help wanted paper was definitely interesting. But maybe she was just shopping with Alexandra.
“Was anyone with her?”
Lila shook her head.
“Did she see you?” Nate asked.
Lila stared straight ahead. He realized that he’d asked the wrong question again. Lila saw everything, everyone. But she would never be able to explain that while everyone shared this capacity, only a few people
were awake to everything they saw. She wouldn’t be able to explain that Blythe had seen her — just as she had seen the light fixtures, the patterns on the floor, the labels on the candy bars in the checkout aisle — but that she did not see her. Nate changed his question.
“Did she talk to you?” he tried again. The thought of Blythe talking to his mother at the grocery store made his mouth dry up.
Lila shook her head.
Nate sighed. It didn’t matter. Even if Blythe had seen Lila, she probably would have avoided her.
Not true, a voice inside him said.
Blythe had been nothing but kind to Lila when they were together. She would have said hello if she had recognized his mother.
What did it mean that she was back in Lafayette? Nate couldn’t imagine it. There was nothing she’d wanted less. Where had her life taken her? The last he knew, she was working for a magazine in New Orleans.
In April, Nate had found himself in the waiting room at Minute Med on Juliette Street when Lila’s cough had become bronchitis. While they waited, Alexandra Barnes had come in with Calvin, who sported a two-inch gash on his forehead thanks to his dirt bike. Alexandra, of course, had talked non-stop, and Nate, selfishly, had asked after Blythe enough to know that she still lived in New Orleans, she was working as an art director, and she wasn’t married, but she did have a boyfriend.
Alexandra was Alexandra, caught up in her own continuous monologue, but even with a head wound, Calvin had watched Nate closely and could probably see what even saying her name did to him.
Nate pictured running into Blythe at the grocery store or downtown. Would he even be able to utter one word? He’d probably just stand there, gaping like a fish.
After six years, you can’t just walk up to someone and say: “Letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life.”
CHAPTER SIX
Six years ago
PARKED IN FRONT OF HIS HOUSE, Nate sat in the driver’s seat of his truck and gripped the steering wheel.
Why did I think this was a good idea? He watched Lila chop onions in silhouette through the kitchen windows.
“What’s the matter?” Blythe asked beside him. “Are you losing your nerve?”
Nate shrugged.
“Maybe.”
Of course, she laughed. He’d made her laugh every day for two weeks straight, and he couldn’t get enough of it. The sound energized him every time he heard it. Clear water, sunlight, and Blythe’s laugh must have been made of the same elements.
“Too bad,” she teased, poking him in the ribs and making him flinch. “It wouldn’t be fair to bail. You’ve already met Seth and Calvin — and my dad!”
“Don’t forget Phoebe the Flatulent.” Nate made a grab to tickle her waist, but she jumped back and swatted his hand away.
“Hey! Don’t make fun of my dog!” she protested, trying to disguise her laughter as outrage. “It’s not her fault Seth fed her Brussel sprouts.”
“Your brothers are a trip,” Nate said, shaking his head. Blythe rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, it was great fun when they showed you that picture from eighth grade. Braces and headgear? I’ll never forgive them.”
Nate shrugged.
“Well, the braces worked.” He reached for her again, and this time she let him catch her. “You have a killer smile.”
“Ugh. Really? That’s the best you’ve got?” Blythe arched a brow at his pathetic attempts at flirting.
“No,” he whispered. “Come here.”
Nate pulled her into his arms, and she tilted her chin up to meet his kiss, like she did every time. Her lips were so soft, and when he reached up to cradle her face, she opened her mouth to him. It seemed impossible that she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her, yet she was just as eager, just as hungry, and it drove him crazy. He could kiss her all day. It had become his new religion.
“Nate?” she whispered against his lips. “Can your mom see us?”
“No…” he murmured, moving his mouth to her neck, inhaling the scent of butterfly ginger in her hair. “You smell so good…”
Blythe stilled against him.
“I think she can see us.” Blythe pushed herself away and sat bolt upright. “Oh my God.”
Indeed, Lila had moved to the sink just in front of the windows. She wasn’t looking at the truck, but he knew that meant nothing.
“Um… Yeah, she can see us,” Nate admitted, shrugging awkwardly. “But she won’t care. She’s not like that.”
Blythe shot him an exasperated look, and he realized that he’d screwed up.
“I care, Nate! I don’t want her to think I’m some slut!”
The word was like a blow.
“No… No,” he said, silently cursing himself. “She’d never think that. And neither would Richland.”
Nate took a deep breath and decided to level with her.
“Blythe, I’ve never brought a girl home,” he admitted.
He watched her eyes widen just a little.
“Never?” she whispered.
Nate shook his head.
“Never. Sometimes… sometimes people are uncomfortable around Lila. I was always afraid it would be too weird.” He gave a weak laugh. “Hell, I’m still afraid, but with you, I want to try.”
Blythe’s blue eyes glinted with her smile.
“You’re different,” Nate said, shrugging. “I’ve never met a girl like you. Someone who made me so comfortable. And Lila and Richland know that. They know you’re special. They’d never think you were a… a slut.”
Nate shook the word from his mouth. He hated even saying it around her. The thought of someone calling her that made him angry.
“Thank you,” she said, grabbing both his hands and weaving her fingers through his. “Thank you for inviting me. Yeah, I’m nervous about meeting your mom, too, but not because of her disability. Because she’s your mom.”
This was why he’d thought it was a good idea to bring her home. Blythe was amazing. She would accept Lila for who she was, which was more than most of his friends from high school had managed.
“Then let’s go,” he said, opening the door of his truck. Blythe hopped down from her side before he could do the gentlemanly thing and get her door for her, but he clasped her by the hand and squeezed it as they climbed the front steps. He grabbed the doorknob and looked down at her.
“She knows you’re coming, but Lila still might be anxious about having someone new in the house,” Nate warned. “Don’t take it personally.”
Blythe just smiled up at him.
“I won’t.”
He pushed open the door and led her inside. Richland looked up from his chair in the family room just as Nate saw Lila move to the corner of the kitchen out of sight.
Nate took a steadying breath and closed the door behind Blythe. The kitchen opened to the front hall and to the family room, so Nate decided not to go to Lila but to let her come to them. He passed the stairs and drew Blythe toward Richland, who stood, smiling.
“You must be Blythe,” Richland said, running one hand over what remained of his russet hair and extending the other toward her.
“Hi… yes,” she said, taking it and smiling that killer smile. “Thank you for having me.”
Richland shrugged, his manner always easy and quiet.
“It’s just hot dogs,” he told her before turning toward the kitchen. “Hey, Lila, do you want to meet Nate’s friend, Blythe?”
Lila said nothing. Nate prayed that she wouldn’t ignore Blythe completely, but she surprised him by walking into the family room and crossing to the corner behind Richland, her head down and eyes averted. It was an encouraging sign, even if Blythe wouldn’t know that.
“Lila, this is Blythe,” Nate said, gently. He watched his mother dip her head and shuffle her feet, but she still faced away from the three of them. Richland went over to her and whispered something he and Blythe couldn’t hear, but Nate guessed he was asking permission to touch her.
Li
la muttered something back, and Richland responded by pressing his chest to her back and wrapping his arms strategically around her, one across her shoulders and the other around her waist. Nate had seen Richland do this thousands of times, and it usually worked to comfort Lila. He was the only one who could manage it, of course. Touch was always difficult for her.
Nate stole a glance at Blythe to see what she made of his strange family. He expected to find her cringing at the awkwardness, but instead, her face was lit with a kind smile — as though the scene in front of her warmed her heart.
Nate squeezed her hand to win back her attention, and he was rewarded when she aimed the smile at him.
“You can say hello if you want to,” he encouraged.
Blythe nodded.
“Hello, Mrs. Lila, it’s—”
“Just Lila,” Nate whispered. “Titles confuse her.”
“Oh… sorry,” Blythe said, looking flustered for the first time. She tried again. “Hello, Lila… It’s nice to meet you.”
Lila, still wrapped in Richland’s arms and facing the corner, dipped her head in acknowledgment. Nate knew he couldn’t ask for more than that just now. Lila might not speak to Blythe at all on her first visit.
As if he agreed, Richland spoke up.
“Nate, why don’t you show Blythe around while Lila and I get the hot dogs ready,” he said, softly. “Blythe, we’ve got Tofurky dogs and vegetarian chili for you. How does that sound?”
Nate felt Blythe squeeze his hand.
“Oh, wow. Thank you. That sounds great. Thank you, sir.”
“C’mon,” Nate said, leading her down the hall off the family room. “Bathroom’s there, and the spare room and Lila and Richland’s room are at the end of the hall.” He pulled her toward the front of the house to the narrow staircase.
“My room is up here,” he said, pointing up the stairs.
“Am… Am I allowed up there?” Blythe asked, a hesitant look in her eyes. Nate suppressed a laugh.
“I guess,” he said, starting the climb. “First time, remember?”
Nate knew that Richland and Lila wouldn’t have objected, but even if they did, he wanted her to be in his space. The loft was his, alone, and the thought of welcoming her there was supremely satisfying.
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