Ch. 41 – Layla
S o, Saturday dinner was awkward.
Layla glanced at the two empty chairs across the table. Alanna and Sully were no-shows. Layla tepidly swirled spaghetti onto her fork. She still hadn’t spoken to Alanna since her sister had stormed out of Tess’s house last week.
The fight weighed her down like concrete boots. The thought that anyone could be angry with her was Layla’s personal kryptonite. Every night since “The Sandoval Sister Kerfuffle,” as Everly had dubbed it, Layla replayed the scene in her head over and over while she lay in bed. It was her version of counting very bitter, very angry sheep. She often slipped into sleep with her sister’s words echoing in her ears.
You’re making a HUGE mistake!
Layla sighed as she watched a chunk of sauce dribble off the pasta. Alanna may not agree with her choices, but she could at least respect them. And until she did, Layla couldn’t see how to heal their fractured relationship.
Frowning, Layla tried to refocus on the discussion at the table. Fortunately, Cal had easily picked up her conversational slack.
“George Tanaka is way behind on his numbers,” Cal was saying as he reached across the table and poured himself a glass of wine. He gamely took a bite of the spaghetti. “He’s got to sell six cars this week, or this’ll be his third month behind.” Cal shook his head. “Six cars in a week. God, he’s shitting his pants. Oh, uh, sorry.” He looked at Layla’s mother. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen first; he gets fired, or his peptic ulcers get him.”
He laughed.
Neither Layla nor her mother joined in.
That was the other awkward aspect of Sunday dinner. Dede had always liked Cal, swooning under his near-constant flattery.
Not anymore.
Tonight, Layla’s mother sat across the table, eating her food in stony silence.
Things had been so much different, so much nicer with Prem. Without meaning to, Layla closed her eyes and remembered those magical weeks. By some silent agreement, she and Prem had spent most of their nights together here, rather than at his small, half-empty apartment.
A smile touched Layla’s lips as she remembered the beautiful feeling of waking up with him next to her in bed. He usually woke before her, and she’d turn on her side and watch him scrolling through his patient notes on his phone or doing the New York Times crossword. She could always tell when he was doing the crossword because the frown line would dig into his brows.
Layla would sit up in bed, kiss him on the cheek, and brush her thumb across that furrow, always trying to smooth it out for him. On Sunday mornings when the clinic was closed, she’d cook breakfast while Prem and Dede chatted and set the table. Prem had never failed to ask Dede about her roses, and her mother would pull stories from him about the clinic. Prem had always recounted his week with humility, downplaying the difficulties of his surgeries or the impressive successes he managed for his patients.
It was all so different from…
“My team’s two ahead of our number,” Cal was explaining, before taking a long swig of his wine. He dabbed his chin with his napkin. “Reynolds’ team down at the Sagebrush Canyon dealership is still ahead of me, though.” Cal grimaced. “Don’t know how he does it. He’ll get the quarterly bonus for sure, again.”
“That’s too bad,” Dede murmured without an ounce of sympathy in her voice.
Reluctantly, Layla pushed a small forkful of spaghetti into her mouth. Her teeth crunched on the half-cooked pasta, the watery tomato sauce settling on her tastebuds like bitter ketchup. Yep, they were the victims of another Dede Sandoval cooking adventure. The meatballs on her plate looked more gray than brown in hue, and Layla noted suspicious flecks of orange and green mixed in with the meat.
She set down her fork. As Cal chattered about a new incoming slate of pickup trucks, she tuned out of the conversation again. This past week had been nothing short of a nightmare.
Prem had fired Deja.
Fired her!
Layla still couldn’t fully believe it. She knew Prem was hurting, but that was no excuse to lash out at Deja. To be so curt to their customers. To storm around the practice like he was the only one with a battered heart.
He’d fully reverted back to the cold-blooded businessman he’d been when they first met. His warmth, wry sense of humor, and deep well of compassion — all the things she’d seen hidden inside of him, that she’d worked so hard to pull to the surface — had vanished.
Had any of it been real in the first place? Maybe people could only really change their stripes in silly romance books like The Billionaire’s Dilemma .
Maybe not even then. Would Edwin Burke’s newfound generosity begin to crumble after his honeymoon feelings for Joey faded? Maybe his newly minted co-opts would lose money, and he’d have to make staffing cuts. Or maybe the board would vote him out for all his new, unprofitable policies, and then he’d have nothing.
Maybe Edwin and Joey’s story wouldn’t end so happily after all.
“Okay, I think it’s time we address the elephant in the room,” Cal spoke loudly, snapping Layla’s attention to the present. He set down his fork and clasped his hands. “Dede, I owe you an apology. I should have said it earlier. I’m sure Layla told you about the reasons behind our…separation.”
His face shifted into an expression of contrition. “I made a huge mistake, and I hurt Layla. I regret that more than you can know.” Cal reached over and took Layla’s hand. “I recognize that in hurting her, I also hurt you. I don’t fault you for mistrusting me. The only thing I can say is that I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to her and to you.”
Layla’s mother held Cal’s gaze and spoke carefully. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to, and it’s not for me to forgive you. Only Layla can do that.”
“Well, fortunately, your daughter is an angel, and she has forgiven me.” Cal pulled Layla’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She flinched. “She’s given me a second chance I probably don’t deserve, but I won’t let her down. I swear it.”
Layla forced a weak smile. “I do forgive him,” she assured her mother. Cal had admitted his mistake—multiple times—and apologized profusely. He deserved the chance to earn back her trust. After all, Layla believed in second chances. And third chances. And fourth chances. There was always room for hope in her heart.
“Layla, all I care about is your happiness,” her mother said. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”
Layla kept the smile pressed onto her lips. “I’m happy.” The words were a whisper.
She was happy, right? She and Cal had reconciled. He’d been her first true love. Up until Prem, her only love. But why did she feel nothing at the touch of his hand? Why did she wish Prem were sitting next to her even in spite of his horrendous behavior?
“Looks like no one had too much of an appetite tonight,” her mother said abruptly and stood from the table. “Let me clear the table. I tried something really interesting with my apple cobbler. I think you’ll like it.”
“Here, let me help.” Cal stood as well.
“I’ve got it.” her mother said, a slight edge to her voice. She took the plate he was about to pick up. “You two just relax.”
“Sure. Thanks.” Cal slumped back in his chair.
As soon as Layla’s mom had moved to the other side of the kitchen to scrape the plates over the trash, Cal leaned into Layla’s shoulder and hissed. “Your mom hates me now.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Layla whispered back. “She just needs time.”
Cal groaned and leaned back in his chair. “How mad can she be? I gave her diamond earrings for her birthday this year. You know how much those cost? Not like she ever wears them.”
“Diamonds aren’t my mother’s style,” Layla murmured to him. Her mother rarely wore jewelry, and what she did choose was simple, like a beaded necklace or stud earrings.
A loud CRASH reverberated in the kitchen.
“JESUS!” Cal cried.
“Mom?” Layla leaped from her seat.
Dede stood in front of the sink, clutching her hands. Three shattered plates littered the ground at her feet.
“Oh, Mom. Are you okay?” Layla rushed across the kitchen to her mother.
“I don’t know what happened.” Her mom laughed weakly. “I guess I’m just clumsy.”
“Here.” Layla ducked into the pantry and grabbed a broom and dustpan. “I’ll get it.”
Dede bent down slowly and picked up a large piece of the broken plate.
Layla quickly swept up the mess, and Cal cleared the rest of the table.
Layla’s mother slowly walked to the kitchen table and slumped in her chair. She studied the blue shard of plate in her hands.
“I used to have a nice set of China,” Dede said softly. “It was my grandmother's. I took it the day we left your father. I was in such a rush. So filled with fear. But I remembered the China. And your favorite toy. That bunny rabbit.”
“Doug,” Layla and her mother said together.
Layla moved to the table and pulled her chair next to her mother’s.
“When we got evicted the first time…” her mother’s voice trembled, “I put our things in storage. But then the car broke down. I used every penny I had, maxed out my credit cards to fix it. I couldn’t pay for the storage unit.”
“Mom.” Layla put a hand on her mother’s knee. She’d heard the story before, even possessed vague memories of it, but Dede had always spun it as a joke. As just one more crazy hurdle they’d all climbed over.
Not this time.
This time, tears welled in her mother’s eyes.
“We lost everything,” her mother whispered. “Our clothes. Your bunk beds. Your books. The China.”
“Not everything,” Layla said forcefully. “We always had each other.”
She glanced over her mother’s head and caught Cal’s eyes at the sink. He knew better than to interrupt.
“We stayed in the shelter. I picked up more shifts at work. My boss gave me an advance, and I was able to get us into another apartment. The one with the dishwasher that didn’t work and the neighbors who fought.”
Layla wrinkled her nose. “I remember. When I asked about the fighting, you told me it was their TV.”
Her mother sighed. “It wasn’t their TV.” She stroked the piece of plate in her hand, her thumb brushing over the small, faded flowers printed around the rim.
“A week after we moved in, I took you and Alanna grocery shopping,” her mother continued. “I used up most of my EBT benefits. I was worrying how I was going to stretch the food. It was so hard back then. I had to get creative about making meals that were filling, healthy, and cheap. Anyway, I saw a sign for a garage sale.”
Layla smiled. “I think I remember.”
“I knew I shouldn’t go, but I had a $5 bill in my purse, and we needed so many things.” Her mother put the piece of plate on the table. “I saw this plate set, and I loved it. The color. The pattern.”
Layla gazed at the broken piece. It was robin’s egg blue. Bright and cheerful, just like everything her mother bought.
“The price was $20,” her mother said. “The lady saw me looking at it. Offered to knock five dollars off the price. I politely declined.”
Layla reached over and took her mother’s hand.
“I’ll never forget,” her mother murmured. “That lady looked at me, and it’s like she somehow knew. She said, ‘How much you got?’ I took out my $5 bill, and we went home with these plates.”
Her mother sniffled. “It wasn’t my grandmother’s China, but I felt so happy putting these plates in the cabinets. They were so beautiful. And it felt like…felt like a new beginning.”
Layla pulled her mother into a hug. “I’m so sorry you lost them,” she said.
“We’ll get you new ones, Dede,” Cal added. “Same color if you like. And, hell, if you want a new China set, maybe it’ll show up under the Christmas tree.” He winked at Layla.
She stifled a frown. Cal was trying to be kind. Trying to help. But, as usual, he’d missed the entire point of the story.
*
Layla stared numbly out the windshield as Cal drove them home, the rolling hills and distant mountains hidden by darkness.
“How you doing, babe? Worried about your mom?” He put a hand on her thigh. Layla twitched.
“I think the steroids are wearing off,” she answered. “Mom said she’s only feeling a little pain in her hands, but she always underplays her issues. She doesn’t want to worry anyone.”
“Well, can she get another round of shots?”
Layla nodded. “The doctor said some people do well with ongoing injections, but many see diminishing returns.”
“Hmm.” Cal nodded. “That sucks.”
Layla turned to him, the seatbelt rubbing against her neck. “Cal, what if we moved in with Mom? I know it’s a big ask, but I’m worried about her. You know she fell earlier this year because she couldn’t grip the banister. And she accidentally left the stove on because she had trouble with the knobs. I don’t want her living alone.”
Cal sighed. He patted her thigh. “Babe, your mom’s house is 20 minutes from work.”
“But it’s actually closer to my job,” Layla answered.
“Yeah, but you’re only part-time. And, well…” Cal lapsed into silence.
“What?” Layla pressed.
“Don’t make me say it.” Regret filled Cal’s voice as he hit the gas of his BMW 7 Series to get through an orange light.
“Say what?” Layla crossed her arms.
“Your Mom’s house is cozy. Charming, even. It’s perfect for her. But not for us.”
“I like Mom’s house.” Layla’s voice rose.
“Come on, Rapunzel.” Cal tipped his head back into the headrest. “It’s tiny. It’s old. It’s falling apart. And it’s on the West side of town. All the new stuff is going up on the North side of town. None of our friends will want to come over if we live at your mom’s house.”
“Your friends, you mean,” Layla noted sourly. Most of her friends lived on the West side of town.
“My friends are your friends,” Cal answered.
She stared at his hand on her thigh and resisted the urge to peel his fingers from her skin.
When, at last, Cal pulled into the garage, he turned off the car but didn’t get out.
He took a deep breath. “Babe, I know how much you care about your mom. So, how about this? We invite her to live here for a while.”
Layla shook her head, tears burning in her eyes. “Mom loves her house. It’s been her dream house forever. She won’t want to live here.”
Cal’s voice grew testy. “Well, then, maybe we’ll just have to threaten to put her in a home.”
“What?” Layla snapped.
“We wouldn’t really do it,” he explained quickly. “But if it’s between our house and an old folk’s home, she’ll see the light.”
Layla unclicked her seatbelt. “No.”
“I’m trying here,” Cal retorted. “Who wants their mother-in-law living with them? I’m offering to make a big sacrifice.”
Layla shoved open her door and stormed into the house.