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Lula
After stumbling out of his house early that morning, rushing home to shower and change, Lula made it to her classroom only seconds before the first hour bell rang. She smiled when she saw tea and a cinnamon roll on her desk.
“Good morning, beautiful,” was scrawled on the napkin. She melted. That man.
He was so thoughtful, so caring, so many unexpected things. She thought about their magical weekend as she popped a piece of the roll in her mouth. He had made love to her in every way imaginable. He was wild and gentle, everything she needed in each moment, carefully choreographed for her pleasure. It was mind-blowing.
Keeping her focus for the day was going to be difficult.
“Hey, Miss Stanley,” one of her kiddos called out as they entered the room.
Flushing as if the student could have read her thoughts, she swallowed her bite and smiled. “Good morning, Kyle, how are you?”
“Pretty good,” he answered easily and plopped into her chair. “Finished my chapters,” he told her proudly, holding up his book.
“I’m glad to hear it,” she told him and quickly ate the rest of her roll while the other students filed in for class.
Guiding freshmen through the finer points of Fahrenheit 451 while memories of Dom’s truly phenomenal abs flashed through her brain proved entirely too difficult. Toward the end of the period, she gave up and assigned the last ten minutes of class as silent reading. None of them seemed to mind.
Safely behind her desk, she sent off a quick text to Dom to thank him for the breakfast. She had needed it, considering all of the calories they had burned the last two nights.
A girlish thrill zipped through her when his answer came immediately. For the rest of the day they secretly sent texts off to one another, exactly as their students were told not to. It felt naughty and exhilarating.
Over lunch, Amy sat bug-eyed as Lula recounted the events of the weekend, at one point even dropping her salad-laden fork into her lap. She squeaked and Lula laughed.
“I kinda hate you right now,” Amy told her, pointing the offending fork at her.
“I’d hate me too,” she agreed, handing her a napkin. “But to be fair, this is the first time in our entire friendship that I’ve ever out-storied you.”
Amy shook her head and wiped the salad dressing from her skirt. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at him the same way. Was he really that big?”
“Huge,” she said in a drawn-out way that made Amy’s eyes fly open.
“Ugh, now I’m kicking myself for not pursuing that when I had the chance.” She sighed. “But I am so happy for you, Lu.” Amy reached across her desk and took Lula’s hands in hers. “You deserve happiness, every bit of it you can find. Especially if it’s the”—she cleared her throat—“huge variety.”
Lula giggled. “Thank you, Ames,” she answered and turned her attention back to her lunch. Now, if someone could tell her just how long she would be this happy. She imagined a big digital clock hanging over her head counting down the minutes to inevitable heartbreak. It would be nice to know just how much time was on it.
After she said good-bye to Amy, she found a few steamy text messages from Dom, to which she responded in kind. And when she returned to her desk, she found a new email notification. Her heart fluttered when she noticed the sender’s address.
Lula,
I am so sorry this email took me so long to write. I wanted to make sure I answered your question the best I could but it’s been nearly 30 years, so you’ll have to forgive my memory.
Your mother and I were roommates all through college, she was like a sister to me. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss her, but I’m sure you of all people know what I mean.
I remember your father but only in small bits, Madeline never really brought him around. They met at the club your mom sang at. I remember begging to meet him—it was important to me that she was with a decent man. He needed vetting, I used to say.
She always had an excuse. He was older, busy, had too much to do to worry about meeting her college friends. But one night, I happened to run into them at the movies. What I remember most was that your father was very tall, with dark hair and a dangerous air to him. He didn’t appreciate having to talk with me.
That’s really all I remember but your grandmother is right, your mother called him Joe. It was a pet name, a corruption of his real name: Giovanni. He went by Gio. I can’t for the life of me remember his exact last name but I know he was Italian. His family owned one of the restaurants down in Little Italy. I wish I could remember the name.
Lula, I appreciate that you are trying to find your father and any family you might have from his side but I do believe your mother kept you from him for a reason. Madeline was never petty or jealous and I would be lying if I told you I liked him when we met, however brief.
I hope this information helps you in whichever way you wish it to and I hope you are doing well.
My Best,
Jacqueline Hope
Lula trembled as she read and re-read the email. Gio. Not Joe. And he was Italian. No, she was Italian. At least partly. Her head spun with all the possibilities. This was information that could actually get her somewhere.
Her first thought was to tell Dom, so in quick succession, she fired off a thank you email to Jacqueline and a text to tell Dom.
His response was quick and not the overt excitement she expected.
DOM: What exactly did she say?
Trying not to let her spirits fall, she answered.
LULA: I’ll send you the email.
She forwarded the email and waited impatiently for him to respond, watching the last few minutes before her next class arrived tick by.
His answer came just as the bell rang.
DOM: I know you’re excited, Lu, but aren’t you the least bit worried?
She answered as quickly as she could.
LULA: No, I want to find him. I need to.
She wasn’t irritated, it made sense that he didn’t understand; he had family all around him. He couldn’t possibly know the vast sucking loneliness that losing your entire family created in your core. It was an elemental need, one she couldn’t really control or rationalize.
After a few seconds passed, he answered her.
DOM: Okay, I understand and I’m happy for you but you need to promise me that you’ll let me help you. That you’ll let me go with you when you meet him. If you find him.
Her heart rocketed into her throat and her fingers shook as she typed. Her students were starting to come in and greet her. She had never texted so furiously in her life.
LULA: You’ll help me?
She could barely believe he would do that for her.
DOM: I will. But you have to promise you won’t do anything or meet anyone on your own. Just in case.
She smiled at how overprotective he was being. It was sweet, really, unnecessary she was certain, but sweet.
LULA: I promise.
DOM: Thank you.
She managed to slide her phone into her desk drawer just as the final bell rang and teach class as though everything was normal. During the next passing period she found another text from him.
DOM: Now about tonight ...
She laughed.
LULA: I’m going to stop by Nan’s. My place later?
DOM: I’ll bring pasta and CR.
She beamed.
LULA: Perfect!