Chapter 6 Life Uninspired
LIFE UNINSPIRED
LOURDES
“And the rehearsals are going well?” Father asked.
I didn’t know why I agreed to dinner at my family’s home in Sussex. I always left near or in tears.
“Yes. We’re making progress,” I answered.
“What about that girl… the one who stole your role?” My mother asked.
“Leah Roughy,” my grandmother said.
Granny was a theater aficionado.
“Yes. Uh… she didn’t steal my role, mother. We both have parts to play. Everything is going well.”
I had complicated feelings for Leah Roughy.
I swore I hated her, but when she turned up to rehearsal with new auburn locks, I felt things in unexpected places.
Leah turned my previous assumption that I couldn’t bother with gingers on its head.
She further confounded me after I ended up below her on the floor. Then, there was that kiss.
“Is she talented, though? You told me she wasn’t much of a dancer.” Mum took a long sip of wine.
“She’s improving. Dance isn’t her strongest suit, but she’s holding her own.”
“Why are you being diplomatic? You earned that role. She’s a spoiled brat! You should just fight harder and show her up!”
Nothing I did was good enough for Mother. Mum showed no acting, musical, or dance prowess. However, she felt entitled to an opinion after spending gobs cultivating my childhood talents.
It wouldn’t have mattered what I did. Be it football or ballet, she wanted me to be a fierce competitor. Her line was that I was never hungry enough. Meanwhile, as I picked at my food, I was famished. What I wouldn’t give for real food and no shame over my appetite!
I sat my fork down, disinterested in quinoa. “Mum, it’s fine. I love the role I’m doing.”
My grandmother brimmed, “Well, I cannot wait to see you do it well, love. You will be the prettiest girl on stage!”
Her support always lifted me. “Thanks, Granny.”
“Of course. All the ladies in my quilting circle would like to see you.”
“I can help get you tickets to a show,” I said. “And you will be at opening night, right?”
Mum sighed, dropping her napkin on the table in annoyance.
She and my paternal grandmother didn’t get on.
Mum didn’t want to play second fiddle for my affection to Granny on opening night.
Granny would bring a massive bouquet and dote as she had for even the smallest professional role to-date—a dance troupe member who didn’t even sing.
“Yes, I will. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Granny grinned cheerfully, then glared at Mum.
“Lourdes, will you be coming to Jenny Streeter’s engagement party?” Mum asked.
“I don’t think I have time.”
That was a nonstarter. I hated that woman and knew this was a ploy for Mum to set me up with one of Jenny’s unfortunate brothers. They were all pricks—just like their annoying man-child father.
“I told you she was too busy, Marcia.” Dad sighed. “I know you are swamped, Lulu.”
I cringed when he called me that, but knew it was from a place of love. I would always be his baby no matter how old I grew.
“Well, Stewart is single again.”
There it goes!
“Mum, I am not interested in Stewart.”
“You’re not interested in anyone!” Mum rolled her eyes. “That’s the problem. Or rather, you’re only interested in sleeping with bridesmaids at your cousins’ weddings. It’s embarrassing! Even your youngest cousins can settle down and be respectable.”
Respectable. I hated that word. Had I hooked up with Lilah Richard?
Yes. Did I regret it? Also, yes. But who hadn’t had a drunken hookup with an old school friend here or there?
I found regrettable one-night stands to be a rite of passage.
Perhaps my mother could accept a hookup with a sad neighborhood boy, but on that night I chose to leave with a woman.
Mum would never approve of anything less than a man who could “take care of me”—whatever that meant!
“Mum, I am truly busy. Until we get this show off the ground, I don’t have time to date anyone,” I said.
“Sure,” Mum sighed. “Of course. Die alone, then! See if I care!”
I fought tears and neatly folded my napkin by my plate. I stood, signaling my departure.
“Dad, Granny, I must run. It was lovely seeing you,” I said.
“Come give me a hug, dear!” Granny beckoned.
I hugged her so tight, misty-eyed because I didn’t want to leave.
“I love you very much, just as you are,” she whispered. “And I will be there if it kills me.”
I sniffled, “Please don’t let it kill you, Gran.”
“Oh, I’m much more formidable than I look,” she joked.
I left the house for the train station. On my way to the ticket kiosk, I spied a Gregg’s food stand tucked in the station entrance.
Unable to resist the ability to devour real food without judgement, I grabbed two sausage rolls.
I inhaled the first on a bench by the train, wondering if I’d feel sick eating the second in a rush before my train.
Fortunately or unfortunately, an announcement soon declared that our train was delayed by half an hour.
“I guess I have time for another sausage roll.”