Lost in La La Land(69)

The stories were vibrant and visual but the nagging sense of disappointment was always there. It was my villain’s cloak, something I never really took off. And if I did, it remained close by, hung up and waiting for me to put it back on. Waiting to drape me again in the weight of a lifetime worth of misdeeds and villainous choices.

We hurried to the bar where Mike was watching a game and many beers deep into his tab. He offered a confused and lazy smile, a drunk version of the one I loved. “Emma, there’s my girl. How was it?”

“Amazingly ego boosting. I suspect I’ll be ridiculous to be around for at least a month.”

“Add month to the list.” He winked and offered his hand. “Marguerite, how are you?”

“Good, Mike. And you?”

“You know each other?” I stepped back, sensing some sort of betrayal lingering in the air. I was always ready to be wronged.

“Yeah. I hunted her down and told her you missed her, but you were too much of a stubborn baby to admit it.” He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

I laughed, hating the feel of this in my throat but Marguerite corrected him, making me feel marginally better. “We were both being stubborn.”

Mike handed the barkeep cash and oozed off the barstool. “See, it all worked out.” He slung an arm over my shoulder and directed us out of the bar. “I need to take a piss.” He headed to the alleyway, close enough to us that we could hear him behind the dumpster.

“I did not see that as a possibility for you.” She pointed in his direction.

“No,” I agreed, still a little annoyed if I was being honest. “No, me either.”

“He loves you a lot,” she spoke softly.

“I know. I think he’s my Stan. I always believed Jonathan and I were soul mates. And when he died I thought for sure my soul was missing. And I was lost.”

“I think we have more than one match for our soul, Em. Jonathan and you were good together, but you were a different person then. You hadn’t gone through any of the things you have now. You’re different. You look like it and smell like it and feel like it. There’s a haunted aspect to your eyes but there’s also love in there. A type of love I don't think you felt before. Your heart didn't go missing when Jonathan died, it got bigger. It had to make room for sorrow. So it felt empty and someone like Jonathan wouldn't have filled that hole. You needed someone bigger to fill the bigger space.” She grinned, her eyes shining with light as she watched Mike amble down the alley, zipping up his pants. “And that guy is larger than life. He probably even makes your heart stretch a little bit so he fits.”

I burst, unable to contain myself, covering my eyes with my hands as I sobbed. She wrapped around me, blanketing me in love. It wasn't unconditional, it wasn't some fluffy bullshit love that pretended to understand you when everything was wrong. It was the kind of love that carried you when you couldn't walk anymore. It was the love that called a spade a spade and told you when you were wrong. It was the love that didn't need tending or building. It was lifelong, taking breaks and being inseparable but carrying on the same as always. It didn't change or grow, it was constant.

We’d been apart for years and still, no one knew me the way she did. Not even Mike. Or if he did, he couldn't ever explain it to me like her.

“Jesus, I’m gone two minutes and you’re blubbering?” He wrapped himself around us both, draping and weighing too much. It was my turn to carry our burden, but an unexpected person was there to help me. A person I should never have counted out.





Chapter Thirty-Two


Seated at Lana’s grave, one of the old-fashioned ones that had to be purchased decades ago, I stared at the grass that had grown over her, sealing her in.

I’d left Mike at the hotel to come be alone with her once more. Footsteps came up behind me and I tensed, wondering if perhaps I was about to be stabbed in the back or neck or murdered as Gilda once was. There would be some sort of irony in the death.

“Dr. Hartley,” the mayor spoke softly as he sat next to me on the bench.

“Mr. Delacroix.” I almost called him Mr. Mayor but that wasn't his role anymore.

“She’s finally in the ground, huh? Dead for half a decade almost and only now in the ground.”

A thousand bitter words floated in my mind but I didn't speak them, I think surprising us both. “If they knew her, they never would have put her in the ground.”

“No. Lana needed to be free. On the wind. I tried to tell them that. She needed to chase the rain.” His voice cracked and when I glanced at him I could see the emotion in his eyes.

“You loved her?” I was stunned by what I saw.

“I did. Always.” He swallowed all the venomous things he wanted to say back at me. “It wasn't enough.” He meant he wasn't, but I didn't need him to say that, and he was never going to. He turned to face me, square in the eyes. I could see the hate he held back, all of it. But his words made me suspect not all that hate belonged to me. “I should have told you about Danny and her attempts on her life.” He nodded. “I read your book.”

I was the villain of this story again. His blame was lessened by his love and his pride and that made mine worse.

“I should have warned you that she didn't match your guidelines.”