by Harper Bliss
Lou shook her head. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
“But you can at least try.” Micky was not letting Lou off the hook easily.
“It’s good to know she has charmed you.”
“She hasn’t charmed me, Lou. She’s just a genuinely nice person. And I truly believe that, even knowing what I do about her.”
“I have to get ready for my next class,” Lou said and rose. Deep down, she knew there was truth in what Micky had said, and if Mia truly had such good excuses for her past behavior, part of her was curious to learn all about them—if only to refute them. But the whole thing didn’t sit right with her. She wanted to be reminded of that time as little as possible, and she was finally able to be around Mia without only thinking about that. Which was a big step forward already. She wasn’t sure when she’d be ready for the next one, because this was beginning to feel like one step forward and two steps back.
The conversations she’d had with Micky and Amber kept stirring in Lou’s mind. Pieces of them would catch her unawares while she was teaching or even just walking past the Pink Bean. Then there was the image of Mia herself that wouldn’t leave her alone. Of present-day Mia, not the girl she once knew, but the woman who made her coffee and had come to Annie’s rescue.
Lou was having breakfast at home. She had told her parents that Mia Miller was working at the Pink Bean, but she hadn’t told them that it was Mia who had come up with the idea for the coffee/bookshop. She didn’t talk about Mia much at all, except for the short announcement after spotting her at the Pink Bean for the first time, because it was not something she wanted to revisit with her parents. Not because they didn’t care, but because they cared too much. Her father especially would want to have endless conversations about it, about how she felt now, and how she had dealt with the emotions of worthlessness over the years. He had a tendency to see her for a much more delicate person than she actually was. Lou had had to toughen up; she’d had no choice. And running to her daddy was no longer a tactic she wished to employ.
“Penny for your thoughts,” her dad said. “You’ve been chewing on the same mouthful of granola for five minutes.”
“Just some stuff going on at work,” Lou said.
“Ah, I thought it was another date gone wrong.” He flashed her a smile. Lou’s mother had left for work already and it was just the two of them at the breakfast table.
Lou glanced at her father and realized that, despite her wanting to spare him from her recent agony, he was probably the only person she could talk to about this. He knew and understood to an extent no one else could, because he had known Lou all her life, and he had been the one whose arms she had fled into when she was running away from Mia’s taunts. He knew how sensitive she was. Not just because of what had happened to her, but by nature. He knew because he was her father.
When Lou was a teenager, on her worst days, it could hurt her so much that the color of her skin didn’t match his, and she believed he couldn’t possibly understand how she felt. Yet she had always turned to him more than to her mother, whose skin was a few shades darker than hers, and who took so much pride in being an Aboriginal person. Lou could never reconcile the fierceness of her mother’s pride with the insults Mia Miller threw at her.
Yet, she didn’t say anything to her father. Partly because she didn’t even know where to start, and partly because she didn’t want him to worry about her the way he always did—she was thirty-two, for heaven’s sake. But mostly because Micky had been right. In her heart, she knew that the only way to find out was to ask Mia. Ask her what had made her say the things she had said, again and again.
“I haven’t been on any more dates, Dad.” She quickly spooned up the rest of her breakfast. “You’ll be the first to know when I do. Fathers have a right to know these things about their grown-up daughters,” she joked.
Her father didn’t smile. “I’m just worried about you.”
Ah, there it was. When Lou had moved to Brisbane to get away from her life in Sydney and start over, she had also taken advantage of the opportunity to escape her parents’ over-protectiveness. They’d meant well, but to put herself together again she’d had to do it without them. She had missed them terribly, and spent hours on the phone with them every week, but at the time, it felt like the only way forward.
“I can take care of myself these days.”
“I know you can, but I’m still allowed to worry.”
“I have to go.” Lou checked her watch ostentatiously. “See you tonight.”
She gave him a quick wave and left her worried father to clean up the breakfast table.
“Can we talk?” Lou asked Mia as soon as she entered the Pink Bean. She no longer needed Amber’s presence next to her to go up to the counter and order a coffee from Mia—and Mia no longer hid in a corner when she saw her approach.
“Now?” Mia asked, her body having gone stiff a little.
“After your shift, if you have time.”
“Lunch?” Mia consulted her watch. “I’ll be done in half an hour.”
“Just a quick chat is fine.” Lou didn’t want to go as far as to have lunch with Mia. Besides, the conversation she wanted to have would only be made harder if they had to chew food in between. “In private.” Lou had considered asking Mia to her parents’ house for privacy reasons, but she didn’t want to invite her into her home. It was a step too far. “I’ll wait for you.”
“Okay, sure.” Mia gave her a half-smile. “Care to tell me what it’s about?” She was growing bolder around Lou, less on guard—less as if she was still punishing herself.
“Not now.” Lou said in a tone that she hoped would convey what it was about. She had no doubt Mia would understand. Because it was the one big thing between them everything still flowed back to. Truth be told, Lou was ready for that to be over. Maybe Micky had been right in more ways than one.
“Okay.” Mia handed Lou her coffee. “I’ll come and find you.”
Lou found a spot in the corner by the window, so she could look out over the street and rehearse what she was going to say. But as she sat there, she found her eyes drawn back to the counter, where Mia was bantering with Jo, or joking with customers, just being her jolly self—the one she had become later in life.
Lou quickly gave up staring out of the window and pretended to read, watching Mia from under her lashes. There was a gracefulness about her that could only be described as effortless. When you looked at Mia you could tell she was one of those people who didn’t care much about what others thought of them, someone with confidence to spare, not the kind that bordered on arrogance, but the kind that came with simply being okay with herself.
It had been that exact attitude that had ticked off Lou so much when she’d first seen Mia turn up at the Pink Bean. It didn’t matter that their troubles had happened fifteen years ago. How dare this woman walk around with such a self-assured gait, such a charismatic smile, such a jokey way with everyone who crossed her path?
Now, Lou saw it in a different light. When she set her own grievances aside, and saw Mia as just another Pink Bean patron, she understood why she’d heard a customer flirt with Mia uncontrollably once, even though there were people in the line behind her. Mia’s open demeanor invited that kind of behavior. She had a flirty smile. She had the clear eyes and straight-toothed kind of grin that made people warm to her easily. Even Lou was beginning to.
When Mia had flirted with Lou right after they’d met, perhaps, if they had been complete strangers, Lou might have flirted back. That was the kind of person Mia was. And that was also why all the others couldn’t help but sing her praises, even Micky, who knew all about Mia’s past. Even Amber, who strongly believed people could change for the better. Leaving only Lou behind with her grudge to hold.
Mia was walking toward her now. It had only been ten minutes since their conversation but she’d probably struck a deal with Josephine. She was the Pink Bean golden child now, she could get away with anything.
“I’m all ears.” Mia put her hands on the back of a chair, waiting for Lou’s okay to sit.
“Care for a walk?” Lou asked.
“Sure.”
They were escorted out of the Pink Bean by a wave from Jo, then they stood on the sidewalk. It was up to Lou to determine the route and to raise the subject she wanted to talk about.
She started walking, with no destination in mind, although she would have preferred to have this conversation in private. Her house was empty. Both her parents were at work. Could she bring Mia Miller into her safe haven, even though she had already decided she didn’t want her there? As the moment of having to ask questions neared, and nerves started manifesting themselves, Lou felt like she didn’t have much choice. She was the one who couldn’t ask this question of Mia in the street, and who needed the protection of four walls around her. Besides, walking around in Darlinghurst, where they both knew a lot of people, could never be private enough.
“Let’s go to my house,” Lou said. “Well, my parents’ house to be exact. And before you say anything, yes, I am part of the trend of people in their thirties returning home to live with their parents.”
“I’m not saying a word,” Mia joked, her tone tense.
They walked in silence, with long, determined strides. Lou let them in and they sat in the lounge. It was so silent around them when they sat down that Lou heard Mia’s stomach growl.
“Looks like you’re hungry.”
“I tend to skip breakfast when I have to get up early. We were slammed today so I didn’t get a chance to have a quick bite in between.”
“I can make you a sandwich later,” Lou said, even though she wasn’t sure what later entailed exactly, or whether she would still want to be around Mia, let alone offer to make her a sandwich.
“It’s fine.” Mia shuffled in her seat.
“I had a chat with Micky,” Lou began. “Well, I had a chat with Amber first, then with Micky.” Argh, the words were coming out all jumbled again. She wished she had some of Mia’s suaveness. “Amber told me to talk to Micky, then Micky told me to talk to you. Apparently, you confided in her.”
“I didn’t mean to, Lou. Believe me, I don’t go around talking to new friends about what a horrible person I used to be. We had a few drinks and Micky isn’t stupid. She had sussed something out. It was either that or lie to her face.”
“I don’t mind that you told her. I would just really like to know what it was exactly that you said to her.” To her surprise, Lou managed to keep her voice steady.
Mia rested her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands for a few seconds. When she looked up again, her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked a whole lot less confident. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Yes.” Lou nodded to add more force to her words.
“I, er, I told her about how I grew up. About the kind of man my father was.” She averted her gaze. “Which I don’t want to use as an excuse. And I said the same thing to Micky. I’m not looking to be excused. All I’m looking for are ways to live with what I’ve done.”
“What kind of man was he?” Lou thought back to the conversation she’d had with her father only this morning. She figured that, unlike hers, Mia’s dad was not a kind-hearted, overly protective man whom Mia could confide in about pretty much anything.
“A bitter racist. A bully to my mother. Someone so disappointed with life, he tried to suck the joy out of it for all of us as well.” Her voice had stopped trembling. “He was—well, is an awful man. And, sadly, a man I allowed myself to be influenced by for too long.” She sighed. “All the words I used to shout at you, I learned from him.” She buried her head in her hands again. When she glanced up, she said, “I should have known better. I did, in fact, know better. Of course, I did. Your tears told me enough. Told me that what I was doing was wrong, but I grew addicted to the power of my words. To the power I could wield over someone else, someone with a different skin color to me, because, in the process, I could try and make my dad proud as well.” She wiped a sudden tear from her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Lou. It was all just such a fucking mess back then, my entire life was like walking this tightrope between feeling powerless at home and this constructed, false sense of power at school. Because I had a big mouth, and I could at least use that to my advantage.”
Lou didn’t know what to say, so she just kept quiet. Of course Micky would feel sorry for Mia after she told her a sob story like that, but it was different for Lou, who had been on the receiving end of Mia’s anger and frustration for far too long.
“I wish I could somehow prove to you that I’m not an inherently mean person. I’m not like my father. In fact, I haven’t seen him in more than ten years. I want nothing to do with him. I know what I did was wrong, and I will carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life, but I had to get on with my life as well. I had to find a way to make it work knowing what I had done to you and others. Knowing that I had let my father’s hatred seep into my psyche and wreak the havoc it did. I walked away from him and never looked back.”
“I don’t know what to say to that or how to react.” Lou felt numb, like the part of her brain responsible for telegraphing emotions had been turned off.
“You don’t have to say anything. But you asked, so I told you. This is what I told Micky, who was surprisingly understanding.”
“What did she say?”
“I, er, I don’t feel comfortable repeating her words.”
“Oh, for crying out loud. Just tell me.” Lou was surprised by the vehemence in her own voice. “First Micky doesn’t want to tell me what you said, now you don’t want to tell me what she said. That’s all well and good, if only I wasn’t caught dead in the middle of it all.” She shook her head.
“Okay.” Mia nodded. “She said I was just a kid back then. A troubled kid who made a mistake. It happened fifteen years ago and despite the severity of bullying, I, er, I guess I should forgive myself. Something like that. I’m paraphrasing.”
“And have you forgiven yourself?” Lou asked, hearing echoes of Amber’s words about how forgiveness is the only way forward. “And do you expect me to forgive you as well?”
“I will never forgive myself. But I have allowed myself to move on. To live a life I can be proud of, be someone I can be proud of. And no, I would never ask for your forgiveness. I would never ask you for anything.”
Lou glanced at Mia. All the things she had thought about her before, about how confident and charismatic she was, had been stripped away. This was yet another version of Mia. The one who looked as decimated as Lou had felt fifteen years ago.
“I’m glad you told me,” she said.
“Thanks for asking.” Mia appeared so distraught, Lou had to suppress to urge to sit next to her and throw a comforting arm around her shoulder. The thought dawned on her that, perhaps, she had started forgiving Mia already. Maybe she had started after seeing Mia’s tears at Glow that night, the obvious anguish on her face at being confronted with her former self. Or when she’d walked away from her at the Pink Bean after Lou had invited her to come to yoga. Or when she’d been pleading her case to Annie and Jane, so alive and in her element. Or simply when she’d been looking at her while Mia was at work in the Pink Bean, like she had done so earlier. The Mia who didn’t know Lou was watching. The unencumbered, free person Lou had taken such offense to and who was the polar opposite of the person sitting across from her right now.
“I truly do think you should come to yoga some time.” It was all Lou could think of to say. It was an invitation that held much more meaning than the permission it gave, and she could only hope Mia would see that. “It has helped me so much to just… be at peace with myself, if even for an hour a day.”
“An hour a day is quite a long time.” Mia brushed some more tears from her cheek and the beginnings of a smile started to form on her lips. “That’s quite a promise to make.”
“It’s not a promise. Yoga is not some miracle bestowed upo
n the western world to feel better about ourselves just because we take to the mat once a day. It takes time and work and consistency.”
“I’m glad it helped you. And that you found a job you’re so passionate about.”
In that moment, Lou was just glad she had changed the topic of conversation. If they’d kept rehashing the past in such an intense manner, she might have ended up crying alongside Mia.
“How about that sandwich now?” She stood, and took a pace in the direction of the kitchen.
“I’m not very hungry anymore,” Mia said.
Chapter Eighteen
After Lou had asked twice, Mia took it as an order to attend one of Lou’s classes—or as part of her still-ongoing penance, perhaps.
So there she stood, her shoulders screaming because of the downward-facing dog Lou had had them in for the past half hour, or so it seemed.
“Spread out your weight more.” Lou spent as much time walking among her students as she spent at the front of the class and it was the second time she had stopped next to Mia to correct her posture. “It will hurt less.” She wasn’t shy about touching Mia either, and put a hand on the small of her back to coax her into a more balanced pose.
God, this was so strange. This was supposed to be a beginners class, but because yoga was so new to her, Mia couldn’t quite keep up with the flow and needed the occasional break. In those moments she couldn’t stop thinking about the strange twist of fate that had made her end up in a Louise Hamilton yoga class.
Had it only been two days ago that she’d sat crying in the couch at Lou’s home? Such a cathartic moment if ever there was one. Hard and confrontational as it had been at the time, afterwards, she’d felt relieved. Because one less secret stood between her and Lou now. And it wasn’t resolution or even a sense of having unburdened herself, just the feeling that something significant had happened on the path to truly forgiving herself. Mia might have said that she would never forgive herself, but before seeing Lou again she had believed that she had already done so. The truth most likely lay somewhere in between. In order to truly move on, she would need to forgive herself, but she would need Lou’s forgiveness first to make that happen. Which made them unlikely co-travelers on this path. And which was why Mia had come to this yoga class—a class she had been banned from earlier.