Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
LILA
What is the most unfaithful animal in the world?
Is this a trick question?
Lila burst out laughing at his sense of humor. Her friend, whom she dubbed Pastor, in her phone didn’t realize that she was trying to tell a joke.
A cheetah.
Ohhhhhh – whew.
I thought you were about to bash all mankind because someone had cheated on you. I wasn’t sure how to answer that question and didn’t realize it was a joke.
Are we making jokes now? I love a good joke…
I’m not sure anymore.
You didn’t realize I was telling one, and I guess it doesn’t come across the same way via text.
I could call you.
NO!
Lila felt a burst of panic at that moment because she didn’t want to put a voice or face to her mysterious friend. That would change things. Right now, he was a safe, mysterious old pastor like something on Father Dowling’s mysteries – in fact – she even pictured him in a clerical collar with a bald circle on the top of his head. No, she didn’t want to add or change anything in her mind because what she pictured was safe.
Father-like.
Wow.
That was fast.
No names, no locations – which means no voices, no details.
You know, you already have the one-up on me. You know I’m a guy and a pastor. I have no clue who this is.
Good.
Now, what’s your joke?
Lila waited and waited. It took several minutes of typing for a very short sentence to appear on her phone. It was almost a letdown at how few words there were, but the meaning was there.
What did one friend say to the other?
And she didn’t respond.
She sat there, waiting for some bomb to drop, to shatter her line of communication with the one person who seemed to be available whenever she chose to text. Stephanie was busy with her new husband. Natalie had found someone and was no longer pushing Lila to travel somewhere or party… and this person – her pastor – was the only real person she had to talk to anymore. Making friends was so hard when you couldn’t trust yourself to be a gauge of people, and she didn’t trust herself.
I will always be here for you. Nothing will ever change that.
Lila’s trembling hand drifted up to cover her mouth as tears made her vision blur as she stared at the screen. It was probably the nicest, sweetest thing anyone had said to her in a long time. A tear splashed on her cell phone screen as she slowly typed.
I’m so glad we are friends.
Me, too.
A week later, Lila curled into the corner of the couch, cradling a heating pad against her aching stomach. The warmth dulled the sharp cramps twisting through her, but it didn’t reach the rest of her—the part of her that felt hollow, tired and empty.
She dipped a pretzel stick into peanut butter, staring at the screen of her phone. The conversation was always easy so far, light. A welcome distraction on a daily basis. They talked about everything and anything – and it was nice. And yet, there was something beneath it—something unspoken but felt.
Friendly.
Oh my gosh, I hate that time of the month…
Her phone vibrated with his reply almost instantly, like he had been waiting.
I wouldn’t know LOL – but apparently, that answers my unspoken questions.
You are a girl.
A breath of laughter escaped her, though it wasn’t enough to shake the heaviness pressing against her ribs.
Ugh. Thanks a lot. Now I can wallow in that realization that I blabbed a secret to you.
I didn’t ask either.
She hesitated. There was something oddly comforting about how he never pried, never pushed.
No, you didn’t.
The reply came quickly.
I’m sorry if you are having a tough time right now. Can you take something?
That simple kindness, the acknowledgment, sent an ache through her that had nothing to do with her cramps. She closed her eyes for a moment before typing.
Yeah. I guess. It’s just a bunch of hormones, period cramps, swollen fingers and feet—just the regular fun stuff that comes with being a girl.
Sounds like it.
She could almost hear the wry amusement in his voice, the way he balanced sarcasm and understanding so seamlessly. It made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t expected.
Don’t men have any fun hormonal traits that are annoying?
A pause.
It’s not the same thing, but if it makes you feel any better – I hate shaving my face daily.
She smirked.
I have to do my legs – and no. That doesn’t help because it’s nowhere in the same category as monthly cramps.
You should have the runs once a month - for a week. I have dubbed it so.
Well then, who am I to argue?
I’ll go eat a few raw eggs for salmonella poisoning or drink pond water for a painful case of dysentery.
She laughed, the sound unexpected, breaking through the fog of discomfort and the lingering loneliness that had become too familiar.
Do you really get dysentery from pond water?
I have no clue, but it sounded good – didn’t it?
I will give you that.
I was definitely getting Oregon Trail vibes.
Her chest warmed, the humor wrapping around something raw inside her. It was so nice to have a friend in him.
Pray for me – dehydration is sure to follow!
A week?
Are you sure?
No TP on the Oregon Trail, buddy…
Lila shook her head, the laughter bubbling up again, unguarded and free. She clutched her stomach, the cramps momentarily forgotten, the weight on her shoulders lifting just enough to breathe a little easier. She didn’t realize how much she had needed this—just to talk, to banter, to exist with someone who made her feel like she wasn’t alone.
NOOOO! ??
(Thankfully, we have it here, though)
She wiped away the tears welling at the corners of her eyes. Not from sadness. Just relief. She didn’t feel so empty knowing she had a person to talk to, a stranger somewhere in this world that she got along with – who was just as weird as her.
Are you laughing as hard as I am?
I’m crying laughing…
Yeah, same.
A pause. A beat that stretched between them, something neither of them named, but both felt.
It’s nice.
Her fingers trembled slightly over the keyboard.
Her heart thudded in the silence before his next reply came.
Yes, it really is.
Don’t go getting mushy on me, buster.
She exhaled, drawing the line quickly and letting the moment settle into something safe, something known. Somehow, she could mentally see him backing away, knowing she’d reached her comfort level. She didn’t trust a lot of people in this world after Kyle, but she was starting to trust him.
Me? Never. That must be your hormones talking – we’re friends, and that’s it. I would never imply anything mushy.
You’re safe.
Her chest tightened.
Good.
She wasn’t sure if she meant it. But for now, it was enough.
A few weeks later, Lila lay in bed reading a mushy romance book with a heavy miscommunication trope that got her to thinking. Miscommunication ruined so many things sometimes – and she hesitated, wondering if maybe that was the key to what had happened to her and her ex. There was no excuse for what he did, what happened, but in her mind, she wanted to try to understand. She couldn’t help but wonder because she’d been hurt so badly.
Mentally and physically.
Picking up her phone, she drew in a ragged breath and began to type.
Do you think miscommunication or having an argument is ever a reason to hit someone?
His response was swift.
Uh, NO?
NEVER.
Did someone hit you?
Did you hit them back – with a semi?
Not that I am condoning violence… but…
She smiled tearfully, feeling something open within her, unburdening her secrets, realizing it was easier to trust a stranger with her secrets than to tell someone she knew.
It was several years ago.
My ex and I had been married for a few months, and things had been getting progressively worse between us. We were fighting quite a bit.
I remember coming home one night after work, and I had forgotten to plug in the Crock Pot. Things blew up from there. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the emergency room – and I had lost my baby.
I was nearly five months along, and I will never forgive him for that.
Is miscommunication ever a reason?
Is a simple mistake ever the reason? Should anyone ever touch another person like that – or am I wrong? Because I feel like my entire life has been in the toilet for years now, and I keep waiting to get pulled under.
I’m so sorry.
Hang on while I type.
Lila sat there, feeling those raw memories, those bitter feelings, and the shame of some of the things she had done in an effort to self-destruct. It was like her heart and soul had told her brain that if you make things so much worse, then giving up on your marriage and the death of your child won’t hurt so badly. So she had gone off the deep end in an effort to drown those emotions. Drugs, alcohol, sex, everything you could think of— she tried, and nothing worked.
And her phone dinged again.
She read, swallowing the lump in her throat as she dashed away tears.
First of all – nobody should ever lay hands on a person they care for.
Secondly, I am so sorry you lost your baby and that you went through those moments, but it explains why you are so careful about names and locations, too.
I would never, ever harm you because you are my friend, and I treasure our text messages – but I understand so much more now.
If you never told me your name, it wouldn’t change what we have. I would trust you with my secrets, who I am, everything – and I’m honored you have trusted me with this knowledge.
I will not bring it up again, will not discuss it, and know that I will include you in my prayers every night so hopefully, you heal someday. You’ll see your baby again. He’s already with Jesus.
I know this.
I believe this.
All over a Crock Pot… I’m shocked and hurting so much for you.
This is NEVER okay.
Lila was sobbing at his words, feeling so many emotions tearing through her right now. Regret, frustration, despair… it all seemed to be bubbling to the surface. There was no explaining why her ex had chosen violence, and she was just glad that she had enough self-preservation to remove herself from the scene.
No, she was never allowing herself to sink into that abyss ever again.
I’m never going to drink again.
I’m never going to let some man control my life again…
I’m never going to fall in love ever again…
Her phone pinged once more.
Are you okay? Do you want to talk?
I know you must be feeling a lot of things right now, or something triggered this to bring it up this evening.
I wanted to check on you, friend…
I’m okay.
I think I’m going to curl up in a ball, have a good cry, and then maybe just go to sleep so I can dream of something – anything – else.
I hope you have the sweetest and most beautiful dreams that bring you joy then.
Thank you for listening… uh, I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, but what is your name?
Louis.
It’s French, so it’s like you are saying ‘Louie’
What is your name?
Lila.
It’s very nice to meet you, Lila – and I appreciate you trusting me enough to open up and share your story as well as your first name with me.
Thank you for being kind enough to deal with my quirks.
Your quirks are my quirks, friend. It’s no burden in the slightest.
Good night, again.
Sweet dreams, Lila…