The Story of Lansing Lotte (40 page)

I slipped inside the door to find the floor relatively quiet. It seemed to be a private ward, and I worried that I might have entered the psych floor. I kept walking down the plush carpeted hall hoping to find the man. The area didn’t seem very hospitalish. A sitting space was centered at the end of the hallway in front of a large picture window. I walked up to the glass and caught a breathtaking view of the city and the park. It was a juxtaposition of modernization and nature. The world was slowly getting blanketed in white, and I was lost in thought until I felt the presence of someone behind me.

“What are you doing up here?” a gruff voice inquired.

Strange mismatched eyes met mine when I turned to the voice. I didn’t know which one to look at first. He was a rather nice looking, older gentleman with his trimmed white hair and a white beard that made him look like a biker Santa Claus. He wore loose fitting jeans with work boots and a purple vest over a white dress shirt, which seemed odd, yet slightly complimentary to his coloring. He smiled slowly at me as he saw me take him in. I recognized him, but I couldn’t recall his name.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked.

“I…I thought I recognized you, but forgive me, I can’t recall how,” I giggled with nervousness.

“I don’t recall either, but perhaps it has to do with some photographs,” he said eyeing my camera over my shoulder. “Those aren’t allowed up here, you know?”

I looked down at my camera then back to meet his two toned eyes.

“I was taking pictures in the children’s ward.” It sounded stupid. I didn’t know how else to explain myself. I suddenly felt very self-conscious that I had followed him.

He didn’t say anything further, just waited me out.

“Well, I apologize again for not recognizing you and seeming a bit stalkerish,” I said as I started to pass him. “Merry Christmas.”

He smiled kindly at me, still not volunteering his name.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied. When I got to the exit for the stairs, he called after me, “And ‘Merry Christmas’ to the boys, as well.”

I smiled sheepishly, waved, and pressed the industrial handle to enter the stairwell. When the door clicked into place, locking me out, I decided I might have entered the psych ward after all. I had no idea who were the boys he referred to.

When I returned to my apartment, I was surprised to find that Christmas had arrived a few days early. My apartment suddenly had a tree in a base, with no ornaments, but boxes of lights lay on the floor.

“What’s this?” I laughed.

“Your place is dull. No holiday spirit, and we need holiday spirit,” Lansing said, looking down at Fleur who still lay on the couch, but watched him with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. A twinkle had come back into her eyes. She looked like an angel, with her hands folded under her head, as she lay on her side. She smiled at me.

“Mr. Lansing said we needed a tree.”

“You didn’t leave to get a tree, did you?”

“No trust, Lila,” he laughed, but there was a bit of innuendo in his voice.  He decided to respond with more detail.

“I ordered a tree and had it delivered. Called the hardware store on 72
^nd
and had them deliver a case of Christmas lights, but you still need ornaments.”

I stared at the evergreen. My apartment smelled amazing, and a wave of nostalgia for my father and my sister hit me. My eyes filled with liquid, and I blinked several times before Lansing stood in front of me.

“What did I do wrong?” he whispered, as he used his thumb to brush away a traitorous tear.

“Nothing,” I sighed. “It’s actually the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. For us,” I said nodding at Fleur.

“Well, I think letting you live in my apartment might top a Christmas tree,” he laughed, but his smile fell a little as he continued to stare at me.

“No. It doesn’t,” I said softly.

He leaned toward me, filling in my space like only he could do.

“I want to kiss you, right now,” he said quietly, “but I think Fleur saw enough this morning.”

I laughed a little and he stepped back, smiling down at Fleur. She was closing her eyes and she probably needed a nap.

“Fleur, Sweet Pea, nap time.”

“I want to see the lights on the tree,” she whined without conviction.

“We can wait, Ladybug,” Lansing said and he walked over to scoop her up while kissing her forehead. I noticed for the hundredth time how affectionate he was with her. He carried her to her room and I followed to help with the covers.

When we reentered the living room, I sat on the couch and I felt the weighted air between us. It was a strange mixture of sexual tension and unspoken aggression. Moments ago he wanted to kiss me, but the energy in the room was changing as he paced before me rubbing his hands down the sides of his jeans.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“We need to talk,” and “I’ll call you,” have to be two of the most dreaded four word sentences in the English language. I used them often and it always led to disaster. I was prepared for it to go that way again, regardless of how badly I wanted Lila. I couldn’t have predicted how the conversation would turn, setting a chain of events into fast forward motion.

“I’m gonna start,” I said as I stopped pacing, noticing that Lila’s eyes were watching me like I was a caged animal at the zoo. I felt trapped, but I knew that I needed to say what needed to be said.

“I slept with Guinie.”

Lila’s sucked in breath was so deep she choked.

“No,” I clarified racing to her and squatting down before her.

“I slept with Guinie…before…you know when. But I want you to know that it was only once. And I can see now that it was wrong, Lila. I was wrong. Guinie was wrong. For me.”

Her hands were ice cold in mine. It was more than her still fingers that froze me out.

“Lila, I don’t know if I should start at the beginning or work my backward, but I want you to know everything.”

Lila did know bits and pieces, but I needed to start at the beginning: eight years ago about a quiet, shy senior and a sweet, young sophomore who he dared to kiss. I then told her about my learning the truth of my foster mother, learning the death of my father and the inheritance of my family’s business. I also explained how I met my real mother and that’s what prevented me from following through with Guinie.

The two situations were always linked in my mind, but I never could have predicted that Guinie would fall for Arturo. I explained how I loved him like a brother, but I knew he was a player. Guinie seemed too innocent for his dangerous lifestyle, but she fell, and fell hard. Within months they were engaged and my head was spinning. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I told Lila what happened with Guinie: the rescue and the kiss.  Finally, I told her about the breakdown with Guinie and the slip in judgment.

“The strangest thing to explain is how empty I felt with her.”

Lila flinched and I knew she worried I would share details I didn’t care to repeat.

“It was never going to work. I can’t explain why I never saw it. Until I met you. You were always trying to put things in perspective. Be kind to Layne. Marry Elaine. Think of Arturo. I didn’t. That’s been my problem. From the moment of the kiss with Guinie at eighteen, I got sucked into a whirlwind I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t have to throw myself into women, they threw themselves at me, and I was always searching for the distraction.”

Lila pulled back from me, but I didn’t let her go. I had dropped down to my knees and forced her legs to separate to allow me in between as she sat on the couch. I was in her space. I held her hands, forcing her to stay connected to me as I poured out my sins like a confessor to a priest. Lila listened. That was what I loved about her. I could admit it. I loved her in some unexplained way.

“I’m not searching anymore. I’m not trying to fill a void that I thought needed to be filled by one girl in particular. I just want…” I couldn’t say it. It seemed too revealing. I just wanted her. I just wanted to be happy.

I hung my head and waited, squeezing Lila’s hands, willing her to know how I felt.

“I didn’t take the pictures on purpose,” she changed the topic. “It was a last minute decision. Stupid and unplanned and the scariest moment of my life.” She continued to tell me what happened with the photography friend and the other man. The chase and the separation. It fit what I already knew from Kaye.

“I know it was our fault,” she breathed, “and if I could take it back I would. If I could bring him back I would.” Her voice broke and tears escaped. I had to stop making her cry.

“It wasn’t your fault, Lila. I know that now. It wasn’t your fault.”

“He’s alive, you know,” she said, shocking me.

My blue eyes scanned hers, wanting to know how she knew. As if she read my mind, she stood and walked to her bag. She pulled out her phone and showed me a picture.

“You took another picture of him?” I asked in disbelief. How could she have done it again?

“I took this, but I didn’t share it.”

“Why didn’t you show me?”

“Because you already knew,” she whispered, dipping her head forward.

We were quiet for a moment.

“How did you know?” I asked softly. The silence in the room was shattered by my strained tone.

“I saw you. You were with Guinie, coming out of the coffee shop down the street. He was there, and I saw him notice you. You looked right at him, but you didn’t see me.” She seemed to add extra emphasis on her and I blinked. How could I have missed her?

“And you didn’t sell the shot?”

“No. I can prove it.” She tapped a few things on her phone and pulled up an image from the opposite angle. In the background of the image was a fuzzy outline of a honey-blonde woman taking a photo with her cell phone. The photographer had memorialized the pain of Arturo while Lila captured it from the other side of him.

I sat back on the floor, releasing her hands. My legs stretched then I brought up my knees as best I could, lazily wrapping my arms around them. It was like I was trying to fold myself into a ball.

Lila stared at me for a moment and then her eyes widened.

“That’s it. I knew I knew him.”

She’d lost me and my expression showed it.

“There was a man today at the hospital. Older gentlemen with two different colored eyes.”

I dropped my hands and my legs sprang downward.

“I followed him to some special floor above the children’s department. I thought it was the psych ward, but I knew I knew him.”

I was too dumbfounded to question that she followed a stranger in a hospital to the psych ward. A man with two colored eyes could only mean one thing to me.

“I couldn’t place him, but he mentioned perhaps it had to do with photography. I thought it was only because of the camera. Obvious connection.”

My heart was beginning to race.

“But I remember now. He came to the apartment days after the accident. He wanted the originals.”

My mouth was dry, but my palms began to sweat.

“He had a strange name. Something old fashion. Milliken? Malcom?”

“Mure Linn,” I swallowed.

Her eyes opened wide. “That’s it.”

I didn’t think I had the words to speak for one full minute.

“He was in the building? This building? Days after the accident?” While we all huddled at Arturo’s, questioning and cursing Mure Linn, he was here under my nose. I needed to start paying better attention, I briefly thought.

“What did he say?”

“Today?”

“He spoke to you? Today?”

“I just said that…about the camera…” she paused. “But he said the strangest thing as I left.”

I waited.

“He said, tell the boys Merry Christmas.” She shrugged her shoulders confused and my heart dropped out of my chest.

I was standing as I dialed, pacing back and forth again in front of Lila as I waited for the phone to be answered.

“Lansing?”

“Kaye, Mure Linn is in New York City. He’s here, that fucker. He’s at Kingston Hospital.”

“I’m on it,” Kaye said and hung up without another word. I continued to hold the phone to my ear, knowing the line was dead and then I slipped it to my forehead. My mind shattered into a hundred thoughts and images. I wanted to kill Mure and hug him. I wanted too many things I knew I wasn’t going to get.

“You need to go,” Lila said softly, and I remembered where I was. In slow motion I took in the unfinished Christmas tree and Lila’s hair that fell forward to veil her face.

“Pardon me?”

“You need to go. To be with them,” she said, looking up slowly.

It dawned on me. She was telling me to leave. It was almost like she was giving me permission.

“I…I feel like I do need to be there. I can’t sit here or continue pacing your floor. I have to do…something,” I emphasized.

Lila only nodded and bit her pink lips. Lips I had been longing to taste since she left that morning. At that moment my thoughts were too scattered. She hadn’t moved, but my energy wasn’t allowing me to stay still. I cornered the couch, heading for the door, before I turned back.