Chapter 26
Opinion: All opinions are my own. I think.
—Delilah Dune, opinion writer
L yla’s phone signaled a text. She quickly snatched up her phone and read the screen, desperate for some sort of lifeline that would salvage this mess of a day.
Travis: Tonight’s wedding rehearsal is canceled due to Hurricane Bill.
Lyla texted back quickly. She’d been trying to reach him for hours and he hadn’t responded. She wanted to talk. He’d read too much into her article for “Delilah’s Delusions.”
Or had he? She’d meant every word. Or she’d thought she did, at least. She didn’t know what to think now.
Lyla: I hope Bailey isn’t too devastated.
She hit SEND and then waited for Travis to text something else. Maybe he would offer to get together later, or he’d apologize for getting so upset earlier. As the minutes ticked by, though, she kicked herself for texting a statement that didn’t require a reply. She should have asked a question. She should have kept him talking.
She nibbled at her lower lip. Then she texted him again.
Lyla: Are you bracing for Hurricane Bill alone?
She didn’t hit SEND. Instead, she deleted the message and waited some more, until she felt like a complete loser, hanging on a text from a guy when one obviously wasn’t coming. That’s exactly what she didn’t want. She didn’t want to need someone. Or want someone. Because then she was vulnerable.
Was Travis right? Was fear still the thing keeping her from living her life?
She set her phone down, telling herself she was done waiting for Travis. As soon as it left her hand, it chirped with a message. She practically threw out her shoulder snatching her phone back up to see what he’d said.
The text wasn’t from Travis.
Allison: Can you come over?
Lyla: Sure. Are you okay?
Allison: Not sure. I just need a friend.
Lyla jumped to her feet, prepared to fly to Allison’s house as fast as she could.
Lyla: Be there before you know it.
The skies were darkening as Lyla locked the front door behind her and got into her car. She sat in her driveway a moment and took in her parents’ home. The windows were boarded. There was nothing to tie down because everything had been donated and carried away. Hopefully Bill wasn’t the big bad hurricane everyone was expecting. If he was, Lyla’s parents’ dream of traveling the world would be over when it had barely gotten started.
With a sigh, Lyla reversed out of the driveway and headed toward Allison’s neighborhood. When she pulled up in Allison’s driveway, she noticed that nothing was tied down on her porch. The beautiful wreath was still on Allison’s door. The windows weren’t boarded either.
The front door opened before Lyla even had a chance to knock.
Lyla was momentarily taken aback when she saw her friend. Allison’s hair was uncombed. She wasn’t wearing makeup. There were dark half-moons under her bloodshot eyes. “Hey.”
A small smile fluttered on Allison’s lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It was the mask that Lyla recognized her friend always had on. Even in high school before the loss of her children, Allison had worn a mask. Maybe everyone did back then.
“Hey.” Lyla stepped inside. She was afraid to ask the question on her mind. “Did you, um, did you take the test?”
The blood drained from Allison’s complexion, making her even paler than normal.
Oh, no. Lyla watched as Allison visibly tried to hold herself together. Allison’s chin quivered and tears welled in her eyes as she stood there hugging her arms around herself. She looked lost. Alone. Allison wasn’t alone though. Lyla was here. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” Lyla promised, wrapping an arm around Allison’s shoulders. “I’m here for you.”
Allison melted in Lyla’s embrace as a guttural sound erupted from her throat.
Lyla wasn’t accustomed to playing the role of the caring friend. She’d spent her adult life selfishly looking after her own needs. She wasn’t a bad person. She just wasn’t a person who’d understood the value in letting others in.
Lyla held Allison for long minutes as Allison’s body shook violently. Slowly, Allison began to settle down.
“I’m s-sorry,” Allison finally whispered. She stepped back and wiped her ruddy cheeks with shaking hands. “I took the test,” Allison confirmed, voice cracking.
Lyla took Allison’s hands and led her over to the couch in the living room. They sat and Lyla let Allison take her time.
“I took the test,” Allison said again, “and it was . . . it was negative.” The tears rushed back to Allison’s eyes, and her head fell forward into her hands.
“Isn’t that what you wanted, though?” Lyla put a hand on her friend’s back and rubbed gently. “You said you didn’t want to be pregnant right now.”
“I didn’t,” Allison’s voice squeaked out. “I didn’t think I did. But some part of me . . .” She struggled to pull in a breath. “I don’t know. I miss my kids so much that it hurts. It hurts so damn much.”
Lyla wasn’t sure she’d ever heard her friend curse.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore, Lyla,” Allison said, with a sniffle. “I started imagining this baby that doesn’t even exist and it—I don’t know, it filled this void that has been . . . been suffocating me for years.” She looked at Lyla through tear-soaked eyes. “I started to fantasize that maybe there was a baby. I wanted it to be real, and now I’m even more alone than ever.”
Lyla continued to rub Allison’s back. “No, you’re not. I’m here. You have family and friends, and people who love you.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Allison’s lips trembled. “I’ll be okay,” she finally said, swiping below her nose. “I just needed someone here tonight. I thought I might go crazy for a moment.”
“Want me to make you some hot tea?”
Allison nodded and wiped at her eyes. “That would be great.”
Lyla stood, eager to do something, anything, to make her friend feel better. As she walked toward the kitchen, her gaze caught on the photographs of Allison’s late children. It was easy to forget all that Allison had been through since high school, because she was such a cheerful person. Allison was typically smiling. She was bubbly, even. But internally, there was an invisible storm brewing, as big and monstrous as the one outside. Lyla couldn’t fathom how Allison had even made it through one day since her children’s passing. She was so brave. She was the strongest person Lyla had ever met.
Lyla realized that she’d frozen in place and was staring at the photographs.
Allison came up behind her. “This is why my friends have all shied away from me. It’s too much for them. I’m too much. I try to be okay, but sometimes I just can’t.”
Lyla turned to look at her.
“I know they’re still my friends,” Allison continued, “and they want to be there for me. I just—Sometimes I just make them uncomfortable, like you are right now.”
“I’m not uncomfortable, Allison.” Lyla wiped at her own tearstained cheeks. “And you’re not too much. You’re amazing, and I owe you a tea.”
“I’ll make it. I’m actually feeling better.” Allison walked past her into the kitchen. “Truly, I don’t want to be pregnant. I gained fifty pounds with both of those children.” She laughed under her breath. “I have stretch marks to prove it.”
Lyla stepped up to the counter. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know if I’ll ever have children. I’m not sure I want to.”
Allison glanced over as she grabbed two mugs from her cabinet. “Why is that?”
Lyla watched as Allison squirted honey into the mugs and added the tea bags. “Maybe I’m not cut out for being a parent. I can barely take care of myself some days.”
Allison narrowed her eyes. “I’m not one of those people who ever judged a woman for not wanting children. It’s her choice.”
Lyla nodded. “Anyway, neither of us are expecting a child right now. Maybe we should have wine instead of tea.”
Allison’s eyes lit up. “You are a genius. Great idea.”
The doorbell rang and both of them looked at each other.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Lyla asked.
Allison shook her head. “No. It’s a weird time to visit. We’re about to have a hurricane. Everyone should be tucked away inside their homes.”
The doorbell rang again.
Allison swiped at her eyes again, as if trying to wipe off imaginary mascara smudges. When she got to the door, she peeked out the peephole and gasped.
“What? Who is it?” Lyla whisper-yelled.
“It’s Travis,” Allison whisper-yelled back.
“Travis?” Lyla’s spine stiffened. “What does he want?”
Allison rolled her eyes. “How would I know? I haven’t answered the door yet. Want me to tell him you’re not here?”
Lyla narrowed her eyes and then they both started laughing. “And you haven’t even had wine yet. My car’s right out front. And who’s to say he’s here for me? It’s your house.” Lyla wanted to run and hide, but she stayed frozen just like she had when she’d stared at the photographs of Allison’s children a few minutes earlier. “Open it.”
Allison nodded. Then she reached for the door knob and pulled the door open. “Travis. What a surprise.”
“Hey, Al.” Travis was wearing his tool belt. “I’m making a few rounds through town and helping folks get their homes ready for the hurricane. I was thinking you might need help too.”
“Oh, wow. That’s so nice of you.” Allison turned to look at Lyla. “Isn’t that sweet, Lyla?”
Travis didn’t look at her. He’d been ignoring her since this morning, and he was still ignoring her.
“That’s thoughtful of you,” Lyla said.
“It is,” Allison agreed. “Thank you, Travis. I would love your help. I should have done the work myself. I could at least turn my rocking chairs upside down. I’ll go do that.”
He held up a hand. “You stay in and visit with your friend.”
Your friend ? He wouldn’t even say Lyla’s name. This wasn’t fair. She hadn’t even done anything wrong. Not too wrong, at least.
“I’ll handle everything. It won’t take long. Do you want me to board your windows?” he asked.
“You have extra wood?” Allison asked.
“I have everything.” His gaze finally flicked to Lyla.
She froze. Should she wave? Mouth a hello?
He didn’t give her time. Turning his back to them, he got to work securing Allison’s porch furniture.
Allison stepped outside to talk to him for a minute longer, while Lyla stayed seated on the couch. She felt an emotion she couldn’t quite place. Like she’d lost Travis when she hadn’t even had him. She’d always known their situation was temporary, that whatever was going on between them would be over after she left town, which was probably next week. She hadn’t expected to lose him before it was time, though, and she hadn’t expected that he would walk away because of something she’d done. Or written. She felt like she’d betrayed him somehow, but that didn’t make sense. It also felt like she’d betrayed herself.
Allison stepped back into the house. “Want to fill me in on what happened between you two?”
Lyla wasn’t even sure what had happened herself. “I guess it’s like with you and TJ. Not all relationships are meant to last forever.”
Allison looked down at her hands. “Maybe not, but I still believe in forever. And if I can believe, so can you.” She looked back up at Lyla. “I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t say that to you.”
It took a moment for Lyla to process why that opinion rang familiar. “You read my article too?”
“Of course, I did. I’m your friend.” She grimaced. “Your column had bitter-woman-who’d-recently-been-dumped written all over it.”
“Maybe that’s who I am now,” Lyla muttered. “A bitter thirty-year-old woman whose career is washed up.”
Allison walked over to the counter where Lyla was standing. “Who you are now is who you’ve always been. The only problem was you might have forgotten who you were for a millisecond. I realized, after quite a bit of therapy following the accident and my divorce, that I didn’t know who I was anymore. Somewhere along the way, I became someone’s wife and someone’s mother. When I lost those roles, I realized that I had just disappeared somewhere in the mundane, everyday things. Maybe you should see the therapist that I go to. Dr. Allmer. She’s amazing.” Allison offered a sheepish look. “Of course, she’s here and you aren’t staying, so . . .”
Lyla had never been to a therapist before, but she knew her mother had and it had helped a great deal. “I could find someone wherever I go. Or maybe do something virtually.”
“Perhaps.”
Lyla cleared her throat, not wanting to think about this anymore tonight.
“Right now,” Allison said, “all we need is wine.” She crossed the room to where she had a small rack on the far counter. “Red or white?” she asked.
Lyla’s mind was on other things, like the sound of a hammer tapping nails into place on the front porch. “Red,” she said, not actually caring. What she really wanted was to step outside and talk to Travis, but she was so confused right now, she wasn’t sure she’d make things any better.
“Red, it is. We’ll have to limit it to one glass unless you plan on staying the night.” Allison lifted a brow. “I have a guest room. Hurricane party tonight?”
“I’ve never had a hurricane party before.”
“The funny thing is,” Allison said, “I had originally planned another Dinnerware Party tonight. Hurricane Bill had other plans, though. Leave it to a man to ruin everything.”
Lyla laughed. “Who’s the bitter one now?”
Allison struggled as she attempted to pop the cork off the wine. “I said my therapist had helped. I didn’t say she’d completely fixed me.”
Lyla walked over to help her with the cork. “Fixing implies you’re broken. If you were broken, though, you wouldn’t have befriended me this summer. You would be too wrapped up in your inner storm to be here braving this real-life one with me.”
“I wouldn’t?” Allison asked, with a sincere tone.
The cork came loose from the bottle with a loud pop. “You’re making friends, dating again, and living your life. You are an inspiration, in my opinion.” Lyla gave her a long look. “And my opinion is a nationally acclaimed one. Also, I’m glad we’ve gotten closer this summer.”
Allison grinned. “Ditto. You know, we could check off one of those bucket list items of yours. Maybe work on saving the world while we drink.”
“What are you talking about?” Lyla asked.
“I found my old Blu-Ray player and my collection of Blu-Ray movies, to include Sleepless in Seattle . We can watch it tonight. Maybe there’s still time to fully check that item off.”
“Wow, Blu-Rays. I haven’t heard that term in a while. Those were a big deal back in the day.” Lyla took in the giddy expression on Allison’s face, all because she was happy to be doing something to help Lyla. She was a true friend—the kind that Lyla wanted to be for others going forward.
“What do you say?” Allison pressed.
“I say yes. One thousand percent. I’d love to watch Sleepless in Seattle with you.”
Allison was a lightweight. After two and a half glasses, she was drooling on the arm of her couch as Sleepless in Seattle played on the screen in front of them. The wind howled outside. Lyla was glad that she wasn’t at her parents’ house alone. There was nothing she could do to keep it from blowing away, anyway. The only thing she could have possibly done to stop this storm was finish the bucket list. Yes, she had watched Sleepless in Seattle a fourth time, but she still hadn’t jumped off the Pirate’s Plank. Would it have changed things? Maybe. Maybe not. She guessed she’d never know.
The summer of Hurricane Billy, she and her parents had huddled in the bathroom all night as the wind shook their humble home. She remembered hearing the crack of the tree in the front yard right before it came crashing through their living room ceiling. Lyla’s mom had cried hysterically over the next half hour. Her father had just sat there holding Lyla with wide, frightened eyes. It was rare that Lyla had ever seen her father afraid. He was fearless. Why hadn’t she inherited that trait instead of his early graying hair and propensity for talking too much when he was nervous?
The night of Hurricane Billy had been the longest night of Lyla’s life. The way her parents were acting, she’d thought they’d surely die before the sun came up.
They hadn’t been able to stay in their home again for two months after that night. Instead, they’d lived with Lyla’s grandparents, while a construction crew repaired the roof. It had been an end to a summer that Lyla never wanted to revisit. Yet here she was feeling a wave of déjà vu, along with a small headache from the red wine that she and Allison had consumed in the night.
Lyla glanced over at Allison. It was amazing that she slept through this storm. The high winds sounded like a freight train coming down the road. The lights flickered on and off, on and off. The movie stopped streaming. It was almost over, so hopefully that was enough to check off the bucket list.
Unable to resist, Lyla picked up her cell phone and texted Travis.
Lyla: You okay?
He was in an RV, after all. That wasn’t the ideal place to ride out a hurricane.
Travis: Fine. Staying with Bailey. You?
Lyla: I’m still with Allison.
She rolled her lips together, wondering if she should try to keep the conversation going.
Lyla: I hope Bailey is okay. Canceling the wedding has got to be devastating.
Travis: Not canceled. Just postponed.
Lyla: Right.
Travis: She’s okay.
Lyla: Good. I watched Sleepless in Seattle for the 4th time. Maybe that buys us some luck.
She stared at her phone, willing Travis to make an effort. Her phone remained silent though.
Allison snorted and rolled over on the couch, her lips slightly parted.
Lyla was scared. She wished she had someone to talk to right now, to soothe her worries. Instead, she was left to soothe herself. She was tired of doing things on her own, though.
She pulled up her cell phone and tapped the app that took her straight to “Delilah’s Delusions.” Below her recent column, she hit the REPLY link and posted a response to her latest opinion. It posted in her real name.
I disagree. Without roots, any storm can come along and blow you away. Relationships keep you grounded. They’re vital. Your opinion is immature and selfish. I hope you grow up one day.
Lyla blinked back tears and hit POST.
Opinion: A house divided cannot stand. Neither can a person.