The Story of Lansing Lotte (32 page)

I had had my fill. I couldn’t take the women flirting with him all day. Or fake that I was still sensitive to his feelings for Guinie, or more so his actions with her. I just didn’t want to be around him anymore. My heart couldn’t take it, because most of all, he was being so nice to me. I just wasn’t used to it. He had invaded our most private rituals on Thanksgiving. He took them in stride, but I was losing my grip on my feelings.

We walked toward the corner in utter silence. The weight of it could be felt between us, and I cursed myself for a moment of weakness and another tear. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Lansing Lotte was getting under my skin and I didn’t like it. The obnoxious way the women were acting toward him was a reminder of why I shouldn’t like someone like him. I shouldn’t even be friends with someone like him. It was all a reminder of Josh Tucker.

If I thought my sister was the only one Josh slept with I was sorely mistaken. I later learned that he had some fangirls on the side, while I thought we were building our relationship.  He had a warped sense of argument that he wasn’t hurting me. Those girls meant nothing to him. He loved only me. He didn’t promise change, though, and I had already been fool enough to know that I couldn’t expect it. I was holding Lansing in the same light.

He was a rock star, bottom line. Women were attracted to him and he was going to flirt with them. He had a history with enough women in the past three months to prove he loved them and left them, leaving death in his wake, literally. I didn’t fault him Layne’s death, but he hadn’t been sensitive enough to take care between the three women to realize someone was going to get hurt. In the end, I think Lansing never realized it was him that could be heartbroken the most.

My thoughts were jumbled as we walked a block before we could find a cab. I reached for the door handle, but Lansing reached around me and opened the door. I slid in and had Fleur sit between us as a barrier. He didn’t grab my jaw that hard. As a matter of fact, it might have been sensual in the way he stopped me then dragged his hand down my neck, but I knew thoughts like that were fruitless when it came to Lansing Lotte. He was still in love with Guinevere, whether he could admit it or not.

We stopped in front of
Dolores Guard
and I looked up at my apartment. Only five weeks and I would be returning to my home. I needed to get away from Lansing Lotte before he added me to his list of women with a broken heart.

He continued toward the main door while I looked on. When I brought my head back down, he was standing in front of me.

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly.

“I know you are,” I said, and it shocked him into silence again. I stepped left to pass him and he blocked me like he does.

“What about dinner?”

“What dinner?”

“Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I don’t eat it,” I said softly.

“What?!”

“We don’t celebrate it. Now, I order Chinese food.”

“No,” he said adamantly.

“No?”

“No. No more, for either of us. We’ve been sad enough and today especially for you, but now we need a Thanksgiving dinner. Right, Fleur? Want some turkey and mashed potatoes?”

“I could eat smashed potatoes,” she said, the little traitor, as she shrugged her shoulders.

“Smashed potatoes it is, Ladybug.” Lansing reached for her and hiked her up in his arms. Then he reached for my hand and he led us down the block.

I had to admit that Thanksgiving Day was different, but I enjoyed myself. It felt good to do something that didn’t revolve around thinking of Arturo or Guinevere. I hadn’t had a great epiphany at church, but I felt rather whole after starting my day there. It reminded me of earlier days around Lake Avalon. Vivian wasn’t a church goer but rather a worshiper of nature. She was pure hippie, but born past that prime. She studied holistic medicine and was a practiced mid-wife, as well as her musician skills and her gardening abilities. She started the day praising God’s blessings of nature and all things pure.

I woke the next day to hear music playing in my kitchen. When I entered the room, I found Fleur twirling like she does, in a circle in the middle of the open space, and Lila swaying her hips side to side as she sang bits and pieces of the song. Her back was to me and as the tempo picked up, she moved her head forwards and back and sang the chorus a bit louder. Something drew me to her. I stiffened immediately down below upon seeing her hips move. I had a strange flash of her sliding side to side over me. I sauntered slowly up behind her, crossing my lips with one finger for Fleur to be quiet and not give away my sneak attack.

As Lila swayed left to right, I fell into rhythm behind her and my pajama pants gave away my pleasure. She began to sing the refrain and I sang along. She jumped and spun quickly, but I had her trapped and her front met mine. The song continued and without thinking my hands went to her hips. I kept the motion going as I moved us in time with the beat of the song. Lila’s hands hung at her side for a moment. She seemed stiff compared to the looseness of a moment ago, but slowly, her hands reached up to my biceps. She wasn’t embracing me, but she wasn’t pushing me away, and she relaxed into the dance. We weren’t going around and around, but rather back and forth before the stove and I had a sudden flash of the night I cornered her in here when I was drunk after Layne’s death.

The song ended and Lila came to an abrupt stop, but she continued to hold onto my biceps while I held onto her slender hips. Deep brown eyes met mine and she licked her lips.  Again I felt pulled to her and I leaned forward almost tasting that pink mouth.

“Pancakes.”

I pulled back at the sound of Fleur’s voice.

“Pancakes?” I said softly to Lila, who still looked stunned. She blinked several times and repeated the word.

“Pancakes? Oh right. Pancakes.” She turned to face the stove as quickly as she had turned toward me and her ass brushed against my length. If she felt me, which I’m sure she did, she ignored it. I, on the other hand, was having trouble ignoring the ache.

“Do you like pancakes?” she muttered, as she flipped the golden brown discs on my stovetop griddle.

“I could eat pancakes,” I mimicked Fleur’s voice from the night before. “Another tradition?” I asked as Lila scooped up two and handed the plate to me.

“Yep.”

“What’s the plan today?” I asked, as I crossed the kitchen to sit on the bar stool. I lifted Fleur onto the tall chair and pushed her up to the counter.

“Ice skating,” Fleur said with a mouth full of pancakes.

“Ice skating?” I looked up to see Lila watching Fleur and me.

“Fleur and I go ice skating the day after Thanksgiving. While everyone else is shopping, we skate.”

“Want to go ice skating, Mr. Lansing?” Fleur asked. I could see Lila’s shoulders stiffen as her back was to me again.

“Well, I think that’s up to your mom.” Lila turned around quickly. Her face full of horror.

“My mommy’s in heaven,” Fleur said without missing a beat and shoved more pancakes into her mouth.

“What?” I mouthed to Lila, my eyebrows pinching in question.

“Fleur knows that I’m Lila.”

“But I heard her call you ‘Mommy’.”

“You heard incorrectly. She knows I’m not her mother.”

“Lila, in every sense of the word, you’re her mother,” I argued. Lila’s eyes shifted between Fleur and me. I glanced sideways to see those brilliant colored eyes staring at me. I wasn’t sure what I had said wrong.

Spending time with Fleur and Lila ice skating, my thoughts often returned again to Elaine. I was going to miss out on moments like this with my own child, if I wasn’t careful. I had been to the first check up and we had another one scheduled for the coming week. Elaine wasn’t pleased with me, but I suddenly knew from Lila’s story that I couldn’t be a Josh Tucker. I would be involved in my child’s life, even if I didn’t make Elaine my wife.

I was having a good time with Lila and Fleur. We skated; we laughed. My day seemed carefree and it felt comforting to be – happy. We ate lunch at a local deli. I began to imagine that people walking past the windows assumed we were a family, like Galehaut had nicknamed us. Fleur said she had to sit by me and as I helped her cut chicken nuggets in half, I caught Lila watching me.

“What?” I said with a playful tone to my voice.

“You’re really good with her,” Lila said softly.

“Well, I like her. Don’t I, Ladybug? We’re destined for one another one day,” I said, as I winked at Lila who only smiled crookedly and shook her head at my flirtation.

“What’s ‘destined’?” Fleur asked.

I looked at Lila who raised an eyebrow and waited for me to explain myself to a child.

“Destined is Destiny,” I said proudly.

“I have a Destiny in my class,” Fleur said matter-of-factly.

I looked at Lila for help.

“Not that kind of Destiny. It’s not a person.”

I waited, but that was all the help Lila offered. Fleur still looked at me, waiting, expecting an answer.

“It’s more like when things are made for each other.”

“My shirt and pants are made for each other,” Fleur said. “Lila said they match. They go together.”

I laughed.

“It’s deeper than that. Like when two people are made for each other. When they match.”

“Ohhh…like you and Lila. You match. You’re made for each other.”

Lila choked and I stared at her, before she adamantly responded.

“No.”

I was almost offended at the tone of her voice. She spoke as if it would be a bad thing to be with me. Not that I had thoughts of us being together, but I had had some dreams about that very thing happening. My body was reacting quickly to the images flashing through my head and I had to take a breath to calm down. I was having several vivid dreams that morphed Guinie into Lila, but lately the images had started with only Lila and ended with me finishing myself off.

The conversation ended as Lila promised Fleur a movie after lunch. I wasn’t too keen on seeing a Disney film, but I didn’t want the day to end. I hadn’t had a day like that in…I couldn’t remember the last time. We were laughing when I looked up to find Guinevere watching us through the deli window.

“Guinie?”

“Lansing?” Her voice betrayed her wonder to see me, and she choked a bit to cover the awkwardness. I had left Lila and Fleur to finish eating as I threw down my credit card.

I stood still waiting for her to say something more when I felt Lila approaching behind me.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” she asked.

I looked at Lila who was holding Fleur’s hand. Lila was watching me, waiting for my response.

“It was a good day,” I said slowly, holding Lila’s gaze for a moment longer. She broke away first and I saw it happen. Her shield came up and her face was masked of expression.

“What are you doing here?” Guinie asked looking around the Center.

“We were ice skating and having lunch,” I offered in reply and shrugged my shoulders like it was no big deal.

Guinevere looked from me to Lila and back again. Her eyes narrowed a bit, and she pinched her eyebrows together as if she wanted to say something then thought twice about it.

“Fleur and I need to get going,” Lila interjected into the awkward silence, as Guinie and I continued to stare at one another.

“Wait,” I said, reaching out for Lila. “I’m coming with you.” But Lila flinched away from me and tugged Fleur to her side.

“We’re going to be late. I’ll see you later,” she added, as she started to walk backward pulling Fleur along with her.

“Wait, just give me a second,” I pleaded, but I could tell that Lila was ready to start sprinting and I had to make a choice. Lila turned her back on me and swung Fleur’s little arm back and forth.  I watched her bend to say something to Fleur and Fleur looked up at Lila with a beaming smile.

I chose Guinie. I always chose Guinie. But I needed to stop.

“What are you doing?” Guinie asked in a tone I recognized.

“I…”

“I know that look, Lansing.”

“What look?”

“You’re face.”