It’s now 8 a.m., and instead of rushing over to discuss last night’s field trip, I am headed over to Lola’s to check in on her first. I just about lose the smoothie I had for breakfast when I see her climbing into her Jeep and starting the vehicle.
“What are you doing?” I screech to a halt at the end of her driveway and race to her driver’s side window. “The doctor said no driving! It will stress out your heart!” I yell at her through her closed window.
She narrows her eyes at me and rolls her window down an inch. “I don’t need a babysitter to go to the store, Katherine.”
“Yes, you do.” I attempt to open the car door at the same time she locks it. Glaring at her, I cross in front of the vehicle, keeping my hands firmly planted on the hood. For some reason, I think this is the only way to prevent her from backing away. It works, and I reach the passenger side, jimmying the handle for her to unlock it and let me in. “I’m going with you.”
She unlocks the door reluctantly. “I don’t need your help getting potatoes.”
“Deal with it.” I buckle up, and she peels out of the driveway aggressively.
We drive in silence, and she huffs dramatically in my direction a few times. “Don’t you have other people you can harass?” she asks.
I scoff. “I didn’t think caring about your well-being was considered harassment.”
She rolls her eyes and continues driving. Barely a moment passes before she bombards me with questions. “So, what is wrong with you? Did you hit your head? Did I not give you enough water as a child?” Her accent is thick as she ponders over the thought of neglect.
“Lola,” I sigh and put a death grip on the door handle as she changes lanes without a blinker. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, something must be wrong with you for you to be acting crazy.” She waves me off, changing lanesagain.It will be a miracle if we make it to the store.
“Crazy?”
“Yes, crazy. You kissed Malcolm, yet you’re here harassing me.”
“I’m not hara—wait. How did you know?” I glance at her and back at the road. She rolls her eyes at me as if what happened last night is common knowledge across all of society.
“I have eyes everywhere.” She changes lanes again, and I really start to feel that smoothie move up into my esophagus. “And those eyes think you’re crazy. You have a wonderful man waiting on bended knee for you, and you’re leaving him high and dry like last week’s pancit.”
“Bended knee is a tad dramatic, Lola. And I’m not leaving himhigh and dry,” I emphasize with air quotes. “He had a long night, and I was going to go see him later.”
“Ah…” She waves me off again and misses our exit to the store entirely. Instead, she races ahead, cutting a highlighter-yellow Corvette off in the process. “You’re being stupid.”
“Ouch.” I swat at her arm. “And you missed the exit.”
She ignores my directions and continues driving. “You’re stalling.” She lets out a breath, looking every bit as tired as she’s saying, the deep lines around her mouth turning downward.
“I am not,” I lie. I’m definitely stalling. “I can’t lose him, Lola,” I whisper. The thought of losing him clings to the back of my throat and squeezes.
“And who says you’re going to?” She raises a brow at me. “He’s not your mom, Katherine. He’s not that one guy. Malcolm isn’t going to leave you for some work retreat on the beach or some job across the country.”
“Can we not talk about this?” I whisper, looking out the window at the passing cars.Where is she going?
“Fine.” It’s as if the word is an NOS button, because she speeds up and whips across four lanes of highway road like it’s a video game. My stomach plummets into the seat as I brace for impact from every direction. Then she takes a familiar exit.
“Lola, why are—”
“If you aren’t going to talk to me about this,” she says, silencing me, “then you will talk to him.”
I grumble at her as she pulls down a gravel driveway and parks in front of the small brick house I know all too well.
Malcolm is outside…chopping wood.
“Lola, I cannot talk to him like this.” I wave in his general direction at the same time he notices our car. With the ax overhead, he chops another log and tosses it to the side before propping himself against the ax to watch the crazy women thirty feet from him. “There’s no way!” I note the glistening sweat pouring off him and gulp dryly at the sight. Yeah, no. I can’t have a levelheaded conversation with him looking like a sexy lumberjack.
“Go talk to him, or I will give myself another heart attack.”
“That’s not how it works.”
