Like my childhood home, Lavinia’s house also reflects the heartache that has happened inside it.
The word rapist is written across the front door in paint. The window that was broken the night I came over still hasn’t been repaired, but something that looks like a large frame has been placed in front of it from the inside. The garbage can is lying on its side in the front yard, garbage spilling out of it onto the grass.
This time, when I knock on the door, I know it will be opened. Lavinia is expecting me.
Even though she had not responded to my first text messages, I wrote her another when I was leaving Nashville. I spent the night at a motel before taking the bus to Aston in the morning.
Now I’m here, and no one’s coming to the door.
I pull out my phone and dial Lavinia’s number. I can hear it ringing inside the house seconds before the sound is replaced by shuffling on the other side of the door.
I hang up when she doesn’t answer the call and wait for her to open the door.
It takes a while. She must be peering through the peephole.
“Sweetie, it’s me. Please open up.” I place my palm on the door and sigh with relief when it’s finally opened.
My relief is momentary.
If it weren’t for Lavinia’s red hair, I would think she’s a stranger. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her cheeks flushed and sunken. Her greasy hair is tangled and lifeless like my own.
I want to pull her into my arms, to do my best to melt away her pain, but behind me, people are watching. Their glares are like pinpricks on my skin. The hate they had nurtured for me not too long ago has now been transferred to Lavinia.
Seeing how uncomfortable she’s becoming, I guide her inside and shut the door behind us. When we’re alone, she almost collapses into my arms.
As I look over her shoulder, I take in the devastating scene in front of me. Everything is a mess. One chair is even resting on the floor, on its side. A black bra hangs from it.
The surrounding air is thick with the smells of stale food and alcohol.
I’ve never seen Lavinia drink even a drop of alcohol before. She’s one of those people who orders water in a restaurant.
How did it come to this? How could we both go through so much pain in such a short amount of time?
She drenches my blouse as she weeps. “I don’t know how to do this,” she says between sobs.
I’m not sure of the right way to comfort her, so I do the only thing I can. I hold her. I did the right thing coming to see her. She needed me more than I could have imagined.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she says, even though she’s not letting me go.
“I had to. You’re my friend. I want to be here for you like you were there for me.” I pull away and look into her eyes. “When the world turned against me, you stood up for me. You welcomed me into your home, even risking your marriage.”
I can see she wants to respond, but she’s crying harder now and can’t get a word out. I help her to the couch in the living room. When we finally make it, and I help her sit, she almost pulls me down with her as her fingers are still clutching mine.
How could I even for a second think of my pain when hers is much worse?
When she finally lets me go, I spring into action.
“Where’s Jenna?” I ask.
“Sleeping.” Lavinia drops to her side on the couch. “I don’t know how to take care of her. I can’t even take care of myself.”
“That’s okay.” I force a shaky smile. “You stay here and get some rest. I’ll take over.” She looks like a child in need of someone to take care of her. I’m prepared to do just that. “I’ll check up on Jenna, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Before going to the nursery, I stop by the bathroom to run Lavinia a bath. She looked and smelled like she hasn’t washed herself in a while. I’ll do everything I can to help her feel better. I’m all she has right now.
When she didn’t respond to my messages, I wondered whether she didn’t want me to come over. I even considered checking into a hotel in town for a few days. I’m glad I didn’t.
Jenna is asleep in her crib, and as I draw closer, I see the dry tears on her cheeks. Like her mother, she looks like she could use a bath, and the nursery needs tidying up.
