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25
Two Weeks
WYATT
As I make Lola pancakes for the second time this week, I smile. She loves my pancakes. More than she loves Carmen’s French toast. Speaking of…
When Carmen was here, things were awkward. We’d only met one other time and I was under extreme duress that night. I’m sure I didn’t make the best first impression. In fact, I’m pretty sure I scared the shit out of her that night.
In a moment of insanity and desperation, I went to Chloe’s house looking for her. Barging through the front door, Carmen was the first person I saw. Holding her by the shoulders, I interrogated her for answers. Answers she didn’t have or wouldn’t share.
The Warren’s were gone. They had already taken Chloe to Denver. I didn’t know it at the time and in my panicked state, I didn’t care. All I wanted was to find Chloe.
So, needless to say, coming face to face with Carmen again after all these years didn’t sit well with me. Even after I apologized to her for the way I acted back then.
She cleaned the house from top to bottom. In one day. It looked like a brand-new place when I came home. I think she may even have cleaned the furniture because I don’t remember it being that light of a beige color before.
Aside from the weird looks she would give me, I felt like a guest in my own home. After a few days, I couldn’t handle it anymore. She had to leave. I understood that she loved Lola and that she wanted to help, it was her job after all, but I couldn’t have her here twenty-four hours a day. So she moved back in with the Warren’s.
She comes over a few days a week to look after Lola. Part of the deal was that she wouldn’t clean. She’s not allowed to do anything other than hang out with Lola.
Our agreement is still a work in progress. Last night when I got home, there was a pot roast in the oven. The day before, all the laundry had been washed and folded. I’m pretty sure she cleaned the outside of the kitchen cabinets at some point, and I know she organized the pantry. I couldn’t find anything this morning.
For the simple fact that I was exhausted after working every day and trying to keep up with Lola every night, I let it go. I have no idea how Chloe could have survived without help from Carmen. Especially in the beginning when Lola was small. I’m sure things were even more hectic then, with Chloe taking classes and needing time to study.
Thinking about Carmen makes me think about Chloe. When I think about her, it makes me think about all the things she’s had do without me, without help, which makes me sad. Especially knowing it wasn’t a choice for her.
Tonight, when we get home, Lola leaves. I’m struggling with it emotionally. I don’t want her to go. I’d give anything for Chloe to realize that we belong together, the three of us.
Not just because we are a family, but because I still love her.
I’ve always loved her and always will. Her and Lola.
There were moments over the last few weeks, when we’ve been talking on the phone, that I got the feeling she felt the same about me. It’s the little things she says, that moment before we hang up where it feels like she wants to say more. I know there’s a lot more I want to say in those fleeting moments of silence.
Moments that have kept me up for hours at night as I replayed them in my mind.
What could I have said differently?
What will it take to make her see the truth?
Does she still love me or is everything she’s doing, the time she’s given me with Lola, all to make up for what happened?
The only person who holds those answers is Chloe. She’ll be here in ten hours, and I plan on asking her. I need answers. I deserve them. No matter what she says, at least I’ll know.
Calling Lola down for breakfast, I don’t get an immediate response. Turning off the burner, I head to find out where she is and, more importantly, why she’s so quiet.
As I pass the guest room and head up the stairs, I hear her talking to herself.
“Don’t worry, Teddy. I won’t be gone long. Momma and Daddy still love each other. That means that one day we’ll live together, all of us.”
Stopping at the top of the stairs, I watch her in her room for a few minutes. She’s arranging all the stuffed animals we’ve acquired while she’s been here on her bed. Her very bright-pink bed.
In her very bright-pink room.
I tried to talk her into a softer color. That didn’t work. She’s stubborn like her mother. And smart. And strong.
So very strong.
