Page 44

Lola

I spent the morning at the barn. With everything going on the last couple of weeks I haven’t been to the barn as much as I’d hoped.

Today’s ride wasn’t long, about thirty-five minutes, but it felt good to do something by myself.

The bright fall sun and brisk air are therapeutic in a way talking to somebody else just isn’t.It’s been a week since we were in Philadelphia.

Byron has had daily calls with his parents where they don’t talk about his dad’s diagnosis.

Then he goes to practice and he doesn’t talk about his dad’s diagnosis.

Then when I try to bring it up he comes up with a way to divert my attention to something else.

It could be sex. Or a TikTok. Or a new recipe.

He’s avoiding the conversation like the plague and it makes me nervous.

If I learned one thing from our fall out over the summer it is that communication is the only way that relationships last.

Any free moment Byron has had in the last seven days he’s spent either texting me or on the phone or physically with me. I still don’t know how he’s feeling.

Leaving the heated arena is a mistake. The mid November air has a chill to it that tells me there are no more seventy degree days in our future.

Settling into my heated seat, I scroll through my playlist looking for one to set the tone for the day.

I finally find the perfect mix of Noah Kahan and Gracie Adams when my Nonna’s name pops up on my phone.

I double check that my phone is connected to bluetooth before answering the call.

“Lola,” she sounds excited, like we haven’t talked in weeks, when in reality I talked to her two days ago. “How’s the end of the semester going?”

“You know I thought the end of the semester would be a lot easier not being a biology major, but nope. I’m still running around like headless chicken. I did fit in a little ride this morning so that felt good.”

“Oh that’s good, I tried to get Nonno to walk around the block with me today but he said he was busy.

I was so mad at him and his excuses. What does he mean he’s busy.

He’s retired and we spend all day together.

He made me look like a fool because when I came home he had the kitchen table set because had already planned on making breakfast for us.

” Her Italian accent gets heavier the more emotional she is.

My grandparents have that Notebook type of love.

Nonna came to America at eighteen with just a promise of a better life and the love of Nonno.

They beat all the odds. Their Italian import store was a success.

Their kids have careers that they never let themselves dream they’d have back in Italy.

To this day they are still each other’s best friend.

I think Byron is my forever best friend.

The one I want to get mad at when he doesn’t want to go out with me, only to find out he had plans for us that were beyond my wildest dreams. If I’m being honest with myself I know that if we don’t figure out how to communicate our feelings, I’m nervous we won’t make it.

We jumped into this thing and never really looked back.

I don’t regret it. Byron was the man I was supposed to come back to.

I just want to make sure we make it the distance this time.

I won’t survive another heartbreak at the hands of this man.

“Nonna can I ask you something?”

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“How did you get Nonno to open up to you?”

She laughs, it’s soft, but makes me feel silly for asking the question.

“That took some work. We grew up in a time and place where there wasn’t time to talk about our feelings. Our lives were dedicated to how we can help the family.” She lets out a small sigh, I know it means she’s reminiscing.

“But we moved to America and had little family here. We spoke English that was not good. We had to rely on each other in a way that neither of us were prepared for. I told him I needed more from him. That I left my emotional support back in Italy. From that day forward, he has always been a listening ear and gives the advice he thinks will help. He took longer to open up, you know how men are.” We both chuckle at that.

“The more I opened up to him, the more comfortable he got with talking about his own emotions.”

“Antonella!” My Nonno’s voice cut’s through the speaker.

“It’s time to go to Anthony’s game.”

“Anthony has his first junior varsity basketball game today,” Nonna fills me in. I don’t tell her that I can hear Nonno through the phone.

“Tell him good luck from me and Ollie. Thanks for the advice Nonna, Love you.”

“Love you too, Lola. Remember to be patient, we all handle things differently.”

When she hangs up I drive back home in silence. Disregarding the playlist, I opt to figure out a way to show Byron it’s okay to not be okay.

Jasper’s is weird come mid-November. With the semester winding down the run-down bar is either filled to capacity with students trying to find an escape from the projects and final papers. Whereas other nights the patrons are so sparse it’s like you’ve rented out the space for a private party.

Tonight I feel like the sardine snuggled in the middle of the can.

“Holy shit,” Indy spits out at the back of a guy as she shoves her way through the sea of bodies.

“We go into the bathroom for five minutes and come out to this?” Her eyes frantically scan over the crowd. I’m sure trying to find the guys.

I find them before she does. Marcus is seated in the back booth we have claimed as ours through the years. I quickly scan the seats at the bar when I realize Byron isn’t at the booth with the guys. That’s where I find him trying to figure out how to carry back enough drinks for the table.

“Why don’t you go sit with Marcus and I’ll help By with the drinks?”

“Sounds good.”

Pushing my way through the sea of drunk people and stepping on a few toes with my three-inch heeled boots I finally make it to Byron’s side.

“One of those for me?” I ask, pointing to the beers and shots in front of him.

“Lola,” the excitement in his voice doesn’t reach his eyes. “You can have whatever you want, baby.”

Offering him a small small I pick up two shots handing one over to him. I’m not sure when he found the time, but it’s clear Byron has been drinking much faster than I have. If he is going to be in this state I want to make sure I’m the one watching his back.

The shot is wobbling in his hand as he brings it to his lips. I watch as a portion of the shot misses his lips and spills down his chin.

I stand on the bottom ring of the barstool next to him and use the sleeve of my sweater to wipe off the discarded alcohol.

“Why don’t we bring these to the table and take a little break?”

He scoffs, hesitating for a second before grabbing the necks of the beer bottles. His big body plows through the bar making it much easier to get to our friends.

I slide in next to Indy and Margo as Byron has Oliver roped into some kind of story that has them both laughing.

“Is everything okay with Byron?” Indy’s tone is cautious, like she is nervous about what she is about to walk into.

He told just a few close friends about his dad’s health. It took some convincing, but I thought it was really important that Byron has all the support he might need.

“We didn’t get the news we were hoping for at his dad’s second opinion.”

Both Indy and Margo let out a sigh. Indy’s eyes discreetly flash to our boyfriends. Marcus is patiently nodding along as Byron hangs all over him, slurring his words.

“How long?” She asks cautiously.

“A few months. I was hoping they’d tell us he had a year, that way Byron could really get to know him.”

Margo nods along. I’ve gotten a lot closer to her this year since she took Ivy’s old bedroom. She is one of the most caring people I’ve ever met.

“Has he still been talking to him?”

“Everyday, they are always laughing. Byron comes over with a new story about how similar they are almost every time they talk.” I take a deep breath, knowing I’m about to voice the fears I’ve been having since we came back from Philadelphia.

“His dad has struggled with drinking in the past and that makes me nervous with how much Byron has been drinking to cope.”

“We won’t let him go down that path Lo,” Indy assures me.

“He has too bright a future for us not to have his back,” Margo adds.

A small smile tugs at my lips as I pull the girls into a hug. Byron and I might not have been born into the families that we deserved, but we found it at Westvale.

“Idon’tunderstandwhywehad,” Byron’s slurred words are interrupted by a burp strong enough to bring the house down. “Toleave early.”

There was no slowing Byron down tonight. I didn’t want to play the role of the nagging girlfriend since they don’t have practices on Sundays. He had his fun, but he was just getting out of control. There is also little doubt in my mind that he’ll be nursing a gnarly hangover tomorrow.

“Because you were starting to fall over and if you drank anymore I wouldn’t be able to help you get home by myself.”

I gently urge him down on his bed.

“Please don’t move until I get back with some water okay?”

He nods, but I’m not naive enough to think he’s going to be sitting in the same place when I get back. Mia follows me down the stairs. Trotting next to me like her only concern is nagging me for a late night walk.

“Do you want a treat?” I coo.

She sits knowing that’s how she earns the biscuit in my hand.

“Do you think your daddy’s going to be okay?”

When she doesn’t answer, I do, hoping she’s thinking the same along the same lines as me.

“I hope he’s going to be okay too.”

I give her a few belly rubs before grabbing a clean glass from the drying rack and filling it up.

“Hey baby,” Byron’s voice is sultry.

My body is taken over by laughter. I stabilize my wrist, holding the cup until I can place it on the bedside table.

I take another look at Byron laying on his side. His head perched up on his right hand, dressed only in his boxers.

“I thought I told you to stay where you were.”

“I just wanted to spice things up,” he says with a wink.

“Not happening tonight buddy. Maybe if you stopped drinking when I asked you we could have ended this night differently.”

“Ughh fine.” He rolls onto his back.

“Drink some of this and then we can go to bed.”

The cup of water is demolished in one gulp. I strip out of my jeans and black sweater, changing it out for one Byron’s old Westvale Hockey tees.

I settle into the bed and plug my phone into the charger. When I turn toward Byron I notice the glassy change to his blue eyes.

“Are you okay, baby?” I wipe the tears away.

“I’m nervous to tell coach and the rest of the team about the renewed relationship with my dad.” He takes a deep breath. “And that he’s dying.”

My chest tightens. This sweet gentle man doesn’t deserve to live with this kind of pain. I rest my head next to his so we are sharing a pillow.

“I’m so sorry, Byron. You don’t have to tell them if you really don’t want to,” I say, running my hands through his hair. I’ll support whichever decision he makes.

“It’s–it’s just that I’ve talked so much shit about him over the years,” he pauses.

“And I’m really mad at him and Mom for not telling me sooner,” he chokes out. Rubbing the back of his hands over his eyes, drying them as he turns to face me.

“All these emotions are normal. You are allowed to feel sad. Just promise me you won’t shut me out.”

I cup his cheek making sure I’m holding his attention.

“I don’t want you to have any regrets in this life. I have enough for the two of us.”

I close the inch of space between us and place a peck on his lips.

The storm has passed in the depths of Byron’s blue eyes turning into something tender.

“Thank you,” His tone matches the look in his eyes.

“For what?”

“Just being here listening to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you.”

The realization comes over me that I’m the only one that knows what Byron is truly going through.

He’s not handling it well. His emotions are all over the place, changing on the drop of a dime.

I know I have to be patient with him because that’s what I asked him to be with me and each time he opens up like he did tonight is a reminder on why he’s worth the changes I’m making.

“I love you too.”

I give him one more kiss before snuggling into his side. He’s long asleep by the time the rise and fall of his chest rocks me to the same fate.