Lulu's Loves (31 page)

Christmas was just Dad and me. He came over early in the day and we had brunch. We watched movies, and later we had cake and ice cream. It was a Christmas tradition with us–a tradition that I loved. When I was young, my dad explained that Christmas wasn’t just about Santa-it was Jesus’ birthday. I decided if it was his birthday we had to have cake and ice cream. 

Dad asked about Thom. “Have you talked to him?

I hadn’t been on the computer in a few days, so I didn’t know if there were messages from him or not. “I did those first couple days, but not recently. There could be messages, but I haven’t looked. On purpose,” I added.

“What are you afraid of, Lulu?” he asked.

“I’m not afraid. I’m not, Dad,” I said when he cocked his head doubtingly. “I’m just not ready to see what’s next. I haven’t had enough time to ponder the possibilities. I don’t know what they are, to think about them.”

“He wants to see you?”

“Yes, but no-I’m not ready.”

“What do you have to think about? Go see him and see what happens.”

“You sound like you want me to do this.” I looked at him, curiously.

“No, I don’t want you to wonder. You need to go and see what and why after all this time. Just mind your heart.” I felt his concern. My anxiousness at the idea made me nauseous all of a sudden.

After dad left, I sat down at the computer with a glass of wine. I logged in to my Facebook page. It showed a message from Thom. I opened it. There were actually four, so I went to the oldest first.

Haven’t heard from you–hope you’re doing all right. I said I would leave this up to you, but I keep checking and find nothing. I’d love to hear from you.

The second one was a single word.
Hello?

The next one was from yesterday.

I’ve given you a couple of days. I won’t push you, but I’d love to continue talking. Please Lulu, talk to me.

The last one was from early this morning.

Merry Christmas, Lulu. I’m having a memory this morning. I’m remembering our first Christmas together. I’ll share it with you. You can reply if you want. If not, I understand.

Christmas Eve there was a cold snap that came through Kiawah and the temperature dropped into the twenties. You were baking a cake, and the smell and the idea of a cake for Jesus’ birthday warmed my soul. The oven warmed the kitchen and we shared a glass of wine. You were so tired after you finished the cake that we crawled in bed and in no time you were asleep in my arms. I didn’t sleep, Lulu–I watched you. I watched the rise and fall of your chest and wondered what you were dreaming.

Do you remember?

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I replied.

I remember. I remember sharing the cake and my tradition with you. I remember.

He replied with a link. When I clicked it, music began to play.
What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve
by Diana Krall. I picked up my phone and looked. I no longer had his number. I’d deleted it long ago.

What are you going to do, Lulu?

I replied to his message with my phone number. The phone rang within seconds.

We talked, and cried–both of us-way into the night. I told him about Robbie, and with a very heavy heart, I told him about Micah. I had to. Even if we only talked that one time, I had to tell him about Micah.

“Meet me somewhere, Lulu. A drink–dinner–whatever you want. I’ll come to Jacksonville. I’ll get a room. I’ll meet you wherever you’d like,” he suggested, finally.

“I have to think about this, Thom. This is hard and I don’t want to screw up. I don’t want to move too fast, and I’m still not sure that any of this is a good idea. My gut says I need to know, but my heart is in control and it’s holding me back. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Lulu.”

I didn’t sleep. I prayed.

The next morning, I called him.

“Good morning, Lulu. I’m happy to hear from you.” I could feel the delight in his heart through his words.

“There’s a Hilton close to my neighborhood. I’ll text you the address. Call me when you get to town and I’ll meet you somewhere.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Thom, I’m not sure about any of this so please don’t have any expectations,” I said, honestly.

“No expectations. I am hopeful. I just want to talk. No pressure, no anything.”

He called at three the next afternoon. My hands trembled holding the phone.
Deep breath, Lulu. Deep breath.

“Hello.” I could feel the quiver in my voice, so I know he heard it.

“I can tell you’re nervous. Please don’t be,” he said, sweetly.

“I can’t help it. Bistro X is a restaurant about a mile and a half away. The hotel can give you directions. I can meet you there at six.”

“I’ll see you then,” he said, and hung up.

I walked in at six. Glancing around, I saw him across the room. I hesitated. Part of me wanted to turn and run out the door behind me, and part of me wanted to run to him. I remembered the feel of being in his arms and I wanted to feel that way again. I moved toward the table and he rose to greet me.

“Please don’t hug me. Just sit back down.” It was a whisper, but I was pleading. “Please.”

“Whatever you’re all right with. You look beautiful,” he said and I thought I saw tears in his eyes.

“Thank you.”

I thought about time as I looked at him. I wondered what he thought observing me after so long. I hadn’t really changed much–a few more pounds, but I was proportioned well. He looked good too–older. He’s fifty-three now, a few wrinkles, lines and gray hair, but the last nine years looked good on him–except his eyes. Where they once sparkled, they were darker and tired looking. I think it was sadness that I saw.

The waitress came to our table and it was a relief . It was a much needed distraction.

“I’ll have a glass of Pinot Grigio please.”

“Still sissy white,” he said with a smile. “Bourbon, neat, and an order of the crab cake bites, please.”

“I’m hungry,” he told me after she walked away. “When do you go back to the university?”

“Not until the seventh of January. I was ready for this break. I’m tired.”

“Tell me,” he prompted.

“Micah’s death-it’s been a lot.”

“Tell me about the house,” he said, bypassing the Micah topic. He wasn’t ready to hear more about that.

“It’s amazing,” I smiled a genuine smile. “I have pictures.”

I pulled out my phone and he scooted closer. I wasn’t ready for that. It took my by surprise. He smiled. “It’s all right, Lulu.”

I found the pictures and showed him from beginning to the last pic I’d taken. “It’s great. I love the whimsy feel.”

“Exactly what I was going for. I will always have more projects for the inside and then, when the weather is nice, I have some yard projects for spring break.” I felt him watching me with an expression that showed pride.

“Maybe I can see it before I go,” but my alarm halted him. “It’s fine, Lulu.”

Our wine and the crab bites came and he moved back across from me. We made small talk and ordered our meal a little later. It was pleasant, but I think both of us sat on the edge of our seats, waiting. I’m not sure what for. It was as though we knew something was going to happen-but it didn’t. It was pleasant.

When we finished our meal, Thom asked if we could take a walk. The restaurant was on the river. It was a nice evening and there was a brisk breeze off the water. I noticed Thom clasp his hands behind his back.

“One of the best restaurants I’ve been to. The food was great, but the company was better.” He turned to glance my way. “Thank you, Lulu. Thank you for sharing your evening with me, it’s been nice.”

“It was nice. Thank you for keeping the pace comfortable. I have to admit that I was a wreck before I got here. I’m so confused about you.” I looked down as we walked a ways further.

“Confused?” he asked.

“My head keeps reminding me of the past…”

“But?” he looked my way, and smiled.

“But my heart keeps flip-flopping back and forth between the old feelings and the hurt. One second I want to be mad at you–angry mad–pissed off, hurt, slap the piss out of you angry. And then the old feelings come back.” I reveled in the quiet for a moment.

“I should go, it’s getting late.” Suddenly, alarmingly, I felt the need to get away from him–to not be close–to not smell the smell that reminded me of before.

“Wait, Lulu, please. Can I call you in the morning? Can we talk again? I haven’t had enough of you yet.”

My brain filled with memories and I thought the dam would burst. I choked on a sob. He’s said those same words to me when I first met him. He noticed that I was about to cry.

“I meant what I told you when I repeated your words. I wake in the morning–offered a new opportunity to get things right. Just a chance, Lulu.”

“You can call me,” I said and turned back toward my car. I was afraid he’d follow me, but when I reached the car, he was still standing there. As I got in, he waved and when I waved back, he blew a kiss.

As I made the short drive home, my mind raced.

You have to get this straight in your head, Lulu. You can’t be caught up in passionate memories and draw only on those feelings. You have to remember it all–how devastated you felt and how hard it was to move on after it. You have to think with your brain and not your passionate heart. You’re a smart girl. Think, Lulu, Think.

When I was in the house, I sat down on the sofa to reflect. I put my feet up, hit the remote to turn on some music and closed my eyes.

It was a pleasant evening. I could tell that he was trying hard to keep it low key. How do I move forward? When he calls in the morning–then what?

I felt my phone vibrate on the sofa beside me. It was too late to be anyone but Thom.

Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you for making it easier than I expected.
I replied.

It was easy–I don’t want to scare you off. I want to see you again. Can we meet for breakfast?

Come here.
I replied without thinking it through.

Are you sure?

I replied with the address and said good night.

You played that real safe, Lulu…

The next morning I woke early and got ready for the day. In the kitchen, I was busy getting things ready for a breakfast skillet when he knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

He handed me a bouquet of daisies in rainbow colors as he entered. “There was a grocery store on the way. I brought this too.” Inside the bag were champagne and orange juice.

“Perfect. Come to the kitchen.”

I noticed that he moved slowly, taking note of my home. “It’s a great place, Lulu. You’ve really made it fun.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll make mimosas while you get that going,” he said. He opened drawers and cupboards until he found what he needed while I threw everything in the pan, biscuits were already baking in the oven.