It's Just Lola (6 page)

“
We haven’t had lunch yet,
”
said
Enriqueta
.
  “Can we eat with you and the others?”

“I’m the only one here.  She sent the others home, saying they weren’t needed because no one would be home for a couple of days.
  There’s more.
”
 
Tears
filled
Pilar’s
eyes
as she shook her head and pointed to the pantry door.  The two girls gasped as they saw a large padlock on the door.

“And you don’t have the key
.
”
Lola heard her stomach rumble as she eyed the lock.

“Jacoba convinced your father that we
’
ve been stealing food from the house to feed ourselves and
maybe even the whole village
.  Everything that can be put behind a lock
is
behind a lock.”

“What
’
ll we eat for two days?”

“Don’t worry, we
can
find enough
in the garden
to make a nice soup.”  Pilar
pushed herself up from the table
.  “Come on
.
”

“Why can’t Pepe get the vegetables?” Enriqueta asked.  “We
’
re not supposed to go out in the sun now that we
’
re young ladies.”
 
Lola snorted.  “
S
top making that awful sound.  You know it’s not ladylike.”

“So what?  I’ll never be a lady, and you know it.  You heard them.  We’re sow’s ears
.
”  Lola snorted again, sound
ing
remarkably like a
sow
.

“Go get your hats,”
said
Pilar.  “But if you don’t come and help, I’ll only pick parsnips because Jacoba doesn’t like them.”

“Come on, Enriqueta
,
I’ll race you to see who
gets her hat and back first.” 
The two scrambled for the door.

As Lola was poking through the vines to find nice green beans for the soup, she worked her way closer to Pilar.  “Why is
n’t the gardener
here?
 
H
e live
s
here, like you
.
”

“
No,
Roberto
lives in the village,
” said Pilar absently.

“Who?”

“Roberto, the gardener.”

“
What about
Pepe
?
”

“Pepe
’
s gone.  Roberto
’
s the new gardener.”

“What happened to Pepe? 
He was very old. 
Did he die?”  Lola lowered her voice when she talked about death.  The idea that people could blink out of existence was frightening.
Lola realized that Pilar was answering her question.

“…assumed he had too much to drink at the wedding.  No one knows where he went.”

“
Why doesn’t Roberto live here
?”

“You
’
re just full of questions today.”
  Pilar looked in the basket she was carrying and expressed her satisfaction.  They all started for the house.

“
We haven’t been gone
that
long, but
everything seems different,” said Enriqueta.
 

“Yes, things
’
re very different
” said Pilar
. 
“
T
he distillery master left last
month.  Juan
’
s keeping up with writing down the numbers while
y
our father
’
s in town to
look for
a replacement.
”

“That can’t be too hard,” said Lola. 

“Enough talk,” said Pilar.  “
L
et’s make some soup.”

“Why
is
…” Lola stopped talking at a nudge from Enriqueta. 

Late that night the two girls huddled together in Enriqueta’s bed.  Every little creak reminded them they were all alone in the house. 

“Enriqueta,” said Lola quietly, “are you asleep?”

“Are you kidding?”

“What
’
re we going to do? 
A
s miserable as our lives were with Victoria and Amelia, that might have been the lesser of two evils.” 
Lola felt Enriqueta shudder.

“No.  We
’
re together now. 
Maybe
she
’ll
ignore us.  Papa won’t let her hurt us.”

“Oh, no
.
  We didn’t write our thank you notes
,
” said Enriqueta. 

Lola
sat
straight up in bed.  “
That’s what we’ll do.
  We
’
ll be perfect young ladies
,
and Papa
’
ll be so impressed that Jacoba won’t be able to complain
.
”

“Yes
,
” agreed Enriqueta.  “We
’
ll curtsy prettily when they come in and ask Papa to please have our thank you notes delivered. 
Y
ou
’re
right, Lola
.
  That
’
s her weak point—she
’
s not a lady
,
and no amount of jewelry and fancy gowns will make her one.  She can’t possibly complain about us not doing it right
—especially if we stay out of her sight as much as possible
.
”

T
he floor was cool under Lola’s bare feet.  “W
hy can’t you write in your room or on the verandah?”

“Because the river inspires me.”  Enriqueta’s nightdress billowed out as she twirled.  “Sitting under that big tree with the birds overhead and the water lapping at the bank, I feel free and the words just flow.”

“You can hear the birds just as well on the verandah, and I won’t have to worry about Jacoba catching you wandering around without a
dueña.
”

“Lola, please don’t be tiresome.  We’ve been through that before.”

“I don’t mind you going off alone every morning because I’m working then, but why can’t I come in and talk now?  I thought we were best friend sisters.”  Lola’s
bare
feet were getting chilled. 

“Evenings are when I get my best ideas.  I plot out my chapter in the evening when everything is quiet, and I write in the mornings.  Please, Lola, just go to bed and let me think.   We can talk for hours once I finish my novel.”  Enriqueta gently moved Lola toward the door.  “Good night.”

Her
novel?  Enriqueta hated writing a simple thank you note.  Lola hurried to her own bed to warm her feet and searched her memory once again for anything she might have done to alienate her sister.

The next morning Lola stepped into the cool shade of the distillery and hung her wide-brimmed hat on a nail.  She dipped a glass of cool water from the large clay pot by the door and set it on the desk
.  With a sigh she slipped into her chair and started work. 
She was proud that her father entrusted his complicated bookkeeping to her, but
e
ven that
could
n’t
lift her spirits
today
.  She pulled the picker tickets toward her and brushed away a stray tear.  Enough.  She wasn’t a baby to cry over an argument with her sister.

The office door burst open.  Tears forgotten, Lola’s face broke into a bright smile as Rudolfo came in and she caught a whiff of what she termed his “essence of guava.”  It had taken almost two years for her father to find and hire Rudolfo as distillery master trainee.  Her father maintained that as a Spaniard, Rudolfo would have been raised with a sense of honor that Jacoba had convinced him was lacking in the Cholos.

Seeing Rudolfo was the best part of her day.  He made her laugh, he listened when she talked, and it was easy to talk to him because they had so much in common.  His father was also a large landowner, but he refused to split his land.  Rudolfo’s older brother would inherit it all.  When Rudolfo had told her about this his dark eyes had smoldered with injustice, and Lola felt their intensity burn through to her very soul.  When he explained how his older brother had become arrogant and distant, Lola had felt her own loneliness vibrate in tune with his words. 

“Guess what?  My first batch of guava brandy is ready and being bottled!” said Rudolfo with an excited grin.

“That’s wonderful!”  Lola knew how much this meant to him.  Rudolfo had been very upset when her father had insisted that his training begin in the orchard, learning how to care for the trees and which fruit to pick and exactly when.  He had complained to her that he
was supposed to be
learn
ing
to be a distillery master, and her father was trying to make him into a farmer.  Lola knew her father was a perfectionist about his guava brandy and liqueur
,
insist
ing
that even the slightest deviation would produce an inferior batch.  She
’
d managed to talk Rudolfo into being patient and now his patience had finally paid off
.

“Come and taste it
.
”

“No, I can’t.  I’m working.”

“It’s lunch
time, c
ome
eat
with me
and
have
some
after
lunch.”

“No.”

“Why not?”  Rudolfo sounded almost petulant.  She was his only friend; shouldn’t she share his moment of triumph?

“I’m not allowed to drink yet,” she explained in a low voice.  Lola’s cheeks grew warm.  “Papa would be angry.”  She felt Rudolfo’s eyes boring into her, and she fought not to squirm under his gaze.
 
“I’m sorry
.
”
Her voice came out in a near whisper
. 

Rudolfo’s answer was a long time coming.
 
“I’m sorry, too.  I must have misjudged you.  I thought you were a woman, in spite of your small size.  It seems that I was wrong, you
’
re only a little girl after all—clever, but still a child.”  He turned and began to walk out of the office.

Still a child? 
“Wait,” she called.  Panic welled up inside her at the thought of losing Rudolfo’s friendship just as she had lost Enriqueta’s.  What would she do if Rudolfo turned his back on her?  She would
n’t
have
any
one to talk to in the whole world. 

“Please,” Lola tried to sound calm and mature.  “I
’
d like to reconsider my answer.  It was unkind of me to refuse to share your moment of triumph.  It was especially unkind since you have no family of your own here.  You extended an offer in friendship, and I
’
d be honored to accept.”

Rudolfo turned toward her, his face shining with excitement.  “Oh, Lola, I knew I was right
in thinking
you were a modern woman.  I was so
sure
you
’
d
agree
that I have lunch all ready for us in my apartment.”

Lola
knew
that even a modern woman would not accept to have lunch alone with a man in his apartment.  On the other hand, she was Rudolfo’s only friend, and she could not bear to refuse him.  The
other
workers resented having a younger man with no experience appointed as distillery master.  El Patrón had built an apartment above the distillery for Rudolfo.  As a man of an aristocratic Spanish family, Rudolfo could hardly be expected to live in the Cholo village, yet he was not family and could not live in the main house. 

Lola
’s
heart
was
pounding as she mounted the stairs to Rudolfo’s apartment.  Her mind was full of confusing ideas of right and wrong.  She knew her father would be very clear that it was wrong of her to be alone with a man.  On the other hand, it was her father who had put Rudolfo in an untenable position.  No one can live with neither friends nor relatives—yet that is what her father expected Rudolfo to do.  It was her duty to make sure that Rudolfo was not so unhappy that he left them because then all her father’s training would be wasted.  Except for Rudolfo’s inability to comprehend the complicated ledger system, he had certainly worked hard and was doing well with the distillery.  It was her duty to be his friend.  Surely her father would understand that. 

Even as
she
rationalized her actions in her own mind, she felt her stomach tighten with fear and…and what?  Lola wasn’t quite sure what she felt, but she thought it was her sense of adventure and daring being kindled.

Lola was reassured when she stepped into Rudolfo’s apartment.  There was a small table in the center of the room, set for two.  It had a decent tablecloth and even a bunch of flowers in the center.  She enjoyed the lunch very much and the conversation flowed easily, although later she could not remember either what they said or what they ate.  After eating, Rudolfo poured two small portions of guava brandy. 

Lola sputtered and choked on her first swallow. 
It tasted like medicine
.  Rudolfo gave her a lesson and she tried again—because he really wanted her to like it.  Once she understood how to sip the drink she was surprised that she was able to enjoy the sweetness. 

“Wow!  The more I drink the better it tastes
.
”

Rudolfo laughed.
“That’s the idea
. 
H
ere, h
ave one more.”

“I really need to get back to work
.
”

“Wh
y
?  No one works at this time of day.  There
’
s no one in the distillery.  It
’
s siesta time.”

“I always work through siesta.  Papa says it
’
s the most productive time because there are no interruptions.”

Rudolfo frowned.  “Does he treat you worse than he treats the lowest of his men?  Everyone takes siesta.”

“No.  That’s not it.  It’s just that…it’s just that…”  Lola couldn
’
t
remember
what she had been meaning to say.  “Anyway, I must go now.”  She pushed back her chair and got up to leave.  The room swayed around her, and she grabbed the back of the chair to steady herself.

“Are you all right?” asked Rudolfo.

“I’m just a bit dizzy
.
”

“Here,” said Rudolfo, taking her elbow, “perhaps you should lie down for a minute.”  He guided her toward the bed in the corner of the room.  “You
’
ll feel better in a minute or two.”  Lola nodded and accepted his help gratefully.
  She lay down and closed her eyes—just for a minute.

~ ~ ~

Lola
heard
Rudolfo’s voice murmuring softly very close to her
, his breath hot on her neck
.  The dream was so nice she kept her eyes closed.  It did not take many seconds for her to remember where she was and realize it wasn
’
t a dream at all.  Her first thought was panic that she
’
d fallen asleep, but she heard her name whispered and curiosity kept her frozen in place with her eyes closed.

“Dear sweet Lola, how I wish we could be together like this always.  You
’
re so beautiful and sweet.”  His hand was slowly stroking her hair
.
“
T
ogether we could run the distillery and live here in our own little nest, being together forever.  What a wonderful life we could have.”

The picture that Rudolfo painted hung in Lola’s mind like a haven of perfection.  She moaned softly, pretending to be coming awake slowly.  She sat up suddenly.

“Oh, no
.
  I must have fallen asleep
.
”  Lola had no need to feign panic and fear as she realized the very real possibility of discovery
.  A
ny thoughts she may have had of being a modern woman dissipated at the thought of her father’s reaction.

“Don’t worry,” Rudolfo reassured her, “you only dozed for a few minutes.  It
’
s siesta time; the distillery is empty.  Then he drew in his breath sharply and jumped up. 

“Oh, Miss Lola, whatever must you think of me?  I
’
m so sorry!  I didn
’
t mean to be forward.  I just got overcome with the time of day and couldn
’
t resist having a bit of a rest. 
P
lease forgive me
.
”

Lola smiled in spite of her fears.  Rudolfo looked so contrite and upset—and over what?  That he
’
d felt a bit sleepy?  After all, there was only one place to lie down in the tiny apartment.  What else could he do?  She stood and tried to smooth out her dress.  Almost involuntarily she reached her hand up to her hair where she remembered him stroking.  She tried to smooth out her long chestnut hair.

Rudolfo went to a small box sitting on a shelf and withdrew a hairbrush.  He offered it to Lola, almost shyly.  “Perhaps this will help?”

“Ooh
.
”  Lola took the silver brush, exquisitely engraved and inlaid with mother-of-pearl.  She
’
d never seen a brush
like it
. 
She removed a long dark hair as she turned the brush over in admiration. 
“Where did you get such a beautiful lady’s hairbrush?”

“I
t belonged to my mother
.”  Rud
olfo looked down at his toes
.  “I
always hoped
I might someday find someone I
’
d like to see using it.”

Lola felt her cheeks burning and she could hardly breathe.  She was being courted
by
a man of her choosing
.
  She
was
a modern woman after all! 
Lola thought she floated down the stairs and into her office.  She spent the rest of the afternoon with a smile on her face.  Even dining that night with her father and stepmother could not dampen her mood, although she was careful to keep her eyes lowered and to speak only when spoken to.