Chapter 36 A Plan
A PLAN
LOURDES
Ifeared for Leah, checking in with her occasionally as my father and I browsed the galleries at the Guggenheim.
My father loved modern art—the more avant garde the better—but Mum hated it.
She called it “visual noise”. Leah took my mother to a posh spa near her flat.
She swore they would mostly be apart for treatments, but I worried.
“You alright, darling?” Dad asked.
I looked from my phone. “No. Sorry. I was checking in to make sure Leah and Mum were getting along okay.”
“I was quite surprised when Leah offered to spend the day with your mother. I was even more surprised when your mother agreed.”
“I think that was due to the fact that Leah said she would get Mum Botox,” I joked. “But, either way, they seem to be getting along okay.”
“She loves you,” Dad said.
I thought for a minute, looking at the Degas before us.
We made it all the way to Impressionism. “Mum?”
“Well, in her way,” Dad said. “But… I meant Leah… in her way. She loves you. She would defend you to the death no matter how cross it makes your mother. She is feisty.”
“She’s stubborn as a mule when she has a cause,” I admitted. “And she loves me. This is proof. She never would have done this for anyone else.”
It was true. She hated her almost-mother-in-law so much.
“What happened there?” Dad asked. “Now, I won’t judge you, darling, but… did you get involved… when she was still with him?”
“What?” I reacted too loudly. “No! I didn’t break them up! Leah and I were just friends. I helped her pack her place up and we went back to work together. But the longer we were back in step, the more we realized what we wanted. So, we… got together.”
He shook his head. “Okay. Well, then I think your mother needs to calm down.”
“What do you mean?”
“She assumed you were—”
“Oh, no! She is wrong. We were best friends, but not girlfriends.”
“Is that what we call you?”
“Yeah. Or partners. Whatever feels better,” I said.
“I think partners is better… not because it bothers me,” Dad assured. “But because I think that is fair. You are older and wiser than any girlfriend has a right to be. And it seems very accurate to call Leah your partner, love.”
I nodded. “I agree.”
“She is a good person. I’ve always thought she was kind. Boisterous, perhaps…”
“Not unlike her namesake.” I looked at my phone. No notifications.
“Do you want to go out to get some lunch?” I asked. “We could come back or—”
“Honestly, sweetheart, I want to eat something and take a nap,” Dad said, looking paler than before. “I have loved every bit of this place. Your mother never got art. I regret not taking you to more galleries and such.”
Fighting tears, I squeezed his arm. “We have so much more time to do that, alright?”
He wrapped his arm around my waist. “We will. I will come back to New York and stay with you—and Leah if she’d be alright with that. I can only assume you’re living together?”
“In that tiny place?” I giggled. “No. I spend most of my time at hers. She has this big, beautiful flat. The views are amazing. I only have a really shitty living room with a futon. If you come, you can stay at Leah’s. We’ll all be there.”
“Alright. Now where to?”
“What food do you want?”
“I would love a bigger-than-your-head slice of pizza. They do that here, right?” Dad asked.
“They do. Don’t tell Leah, though. She has opinions about pizza.”
“How so?”
“Chicago has its own style of basically casserole that she will call hers over a New York slice any day. Chicagoans are… very obsessive about how they are not New York.”
“Like what… Manchester?”
“No. I’d say like Glasgow. The Midwest feels like another country and none of the accents sound the same.”
“Ah.”
We walked to a local pizza shop, grabbed two slices, and ate them in the park. The weather was beautiful. This was what I’d been missing. It had been nearly twenty years since I’d had a quiet outing with my father. I wanted to soak up every moment.
“Dad?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
I met his gaze as he took a sip of the Mexican Coke he’d insisted on.
“Why did you have me?”
He furrowed his brow, thinking through his words.
“Well, it was what you did back then.”
Not helpful, Dad.
“Okay, but if you didn’t feel you had to have a kid, would you have?”
He broke into a smile and squeezed my leg.
“I would have had you—my little superstar—a million times over. You taught me how to love something bigger than myself. Lou, if you’re asking me if I would have been happy without you, I am going to be honest. As I sit here, aware of the time I don’t have left, I can say I would have regrets.
I would have had a beautiful life, but I wouldn’t want that without you now that I know how amazing it could be.
You taught me to love someone so different—and that difference brought beauty into my life I wouldn’t change for anything. ”
Tears welled, “Really?”
“Lou, your mother isn’t much for art. She wasn’t the one who wanted to take risks. That was me. I saw so much of myself in you. And to think I wouldn’t have you? Absolutely not! I’d choose you. You’ll see. What are your worries?”
“That I’m not maternal enough—that I’m too selfish. Leah tells me none of that is true.”
“She’s right. You gave Gabe too much. He wanted you to be his mother for a good five years. You tried, but you can’t raise a child who doesn’t want to grow up.”
“Dad!” I giggled. “When did you get that sick with a burn?”
“I have nothing to lose.” He shrugged. “You will see. You’d make a good mum.”
“I don’t feel like mum material.”
“Maybe you’d be unconventional? There’s nothing wrong with that. Kids love a little wild, a little different, don’t they?”
I watched a woman push a pram. A child with short hair ran behind her, occasionally stopping to pick up a leaf. They wore a rainbow-sparkled dress.
She called to them, “Wren!”
The kid did a spin holding a leaf in both hands, the dress flying up. That was the point, wasn’t it? I smiled. So did the child’s mother. She turned from the infant in the pram back to the kid in the dress, stifling a hearty laugh. She knew her child was just a little different.
“Did you always know?” I asked Dad.
“About?”
“That I marched to my own drum?”
He smiled and nodded. “Being average is overrated, Lourdes. I was relieved whenever you proved exceptional. I know life hasn’t always been simple for you, but I think you’ve been rewarded in opportunity repeatedly for being you.
Darling, I want you to be yourself—to live the life you want.
Don’t go back in the box. You’re not happy there. ”
I patted his knee, “Thanks for that.”
Sitting in the park, I was surrounded by parents and children trying to enjoy some beautiful sunshine.
As I spied two women holding hands near an entrance, I thought maybe it wouldn’t be impossible.
One held a baby in the wrap. They came to a stop as the other woman fumbled through a backpack and produced a dummy.
“See, it wouldn’t be so bad,” Dad said, free of judgement. “It might not be as simple for you both, but not impossible.”
“I don’t want to do it unless I am completely obsessed with the idea,” I said.
“You will never get there, Lourdes.”
I cocked my head.
“Every parent gets to a point where they think ‘maybe, maybe’ but if you wait until everything seems perfect, you’ll never do it.
That’s because the perfect time doesn’t exist. Those ladies?
Their lives are in chaos right now. No one is sleeping.
But are they still celebrating the little joys? Yes.”
“But right now? Is it the best time to think about this?”
“Maybe not. You’d have to take time off, of course.”
“A little,” I said. “But I’m not going to carry the baby. That would be on Leah. I told Gabe I’d never give birth, but he never believed me. Leah wants to. She says birth is powerful. I cannot agree. It looks horrifying.”
“Now, now. I will warn you that if she falls pregnant, you will need to always be supportive of her. You cannot make any comments doubting her body or she’ll go into a tailspin. That is one thing I know.”
I giggled. “I don’t think there is any way Leah’s pregnant body would unnerve me, Dad. No. I just… the idea of me giving birth is dreadful. If Leah wanted to do the hard part, I would be amenable.”
He turned to me, a grinning and tearful.
As his big hand enveloped my smaller one, I realized the mere thought of it pleased him.
He wasn’t putting pressure on me, but a baby would make him so happy.
I might not forgive myself if I wasted an opportunity to have those wonderful moments watching him love a grandchild.
Maybe the timing wasn’t perfect, but would it ever be?
If I walked this road, it would be with the person I trusted most.