Lila
“Lila!” My mother’s voice came from the end of the boutique while I was still sifting through the first collection of dresses on the first rack. “Honey, come look at this one.”
Making my way over to her, I nodded awkwardly at Marsha, the old lady who owned the store, settled calmly behind the counter, eyeing me from behind a large pair of glasses.
When I spotted my mother, short enough to be hidden behind the tall hanger where long ball gowns flowed, she was holding up a simple dress. A bright, royal-blue maxi dress with spaghetti straps and a round neck.
With a closer look, I realized what it would look like on me.
“It’s a little too low-cut, don’t you think?” I tittered as my eyes lingered on the neckline which threatened to let half my breasts spill outwards.
“Wha—” my mother scoffed, giggling, “it’s a party, dear, and many eligible bachelors will be there.” Her eyes carried a meaningful look.
Slowly shaking my head, I stealthily glanced toward Marsha, who did not seem to be paying us much attention at that point.
“Mr. Downton has a lot of rich friends!” Mom attempted to whisper, although it came out more like a hiss.
“Howdy, ladies.” Marsha immediately appeared as if from nowhere. “Do ya need help findin’ a party dress?”
“Oh, yes.” My mother’s eyes danced. “It’s a big deal this time, hon.”
“The Downton party?” She mischievously grinned. “All the cute boys’ll be there!” Her eyes then became dreamy as her hand ran over the various fabrics of the hanging dresses. “Oh, to be twenty-one again.”
With equal excitement, Mother engaged deeper in a reminiscing exchange with the boutique owner. I, on the other hand, continued to look through the dozens of items she had on display.
I knew my mother wanted me to “find a man and get married,” but with everything my sister Bianca and her husband were going through with their son, Lenny, the idea seemed rather scary at this time.
As my eyes landed on a little plain sky-blue dress with a back-long zipper and lace detailing at the hem, my mind wondered if I really wanted to meet someone and start something real.
My life as a single woman and a teacher in our cozy little town school was slow but satisfactory, and I was not too keen on sinking down to my knees in diapers and responsibilities just yet.
“I’ll try this on,” I announced, only to be faced with lukewarm stares from my mother at my choice of cut.
She quickly returned to her conversation with Marsha while I slipped into the dressing room.
As I proceeded to undress, I thought about Danny Downton’s story and how lucky he and his brothers had been.
The tale told of a handsome young cowboy who went to work for an old ranch owner who was rich enough to marry an army, yet never actually started a family of his own. The rancher and Danny soon developed a father-and-son sort of relationship, which led to Danny inheriting everything when the man had died.
It was said that my great grandfather was the great uncle of the late rancher whose will named nobody but Danny Downton as beneficiary. For the life of me, I could never keep all of the family tree straight in my head. It was all too complicated, especially in a town where everybody seemed to either have known or courted one another at some point in the past.
Struggling to zip up the upper half of my dress, I resorted to using the hanger it was on, carefully dragging the little metal ring up the center of my back.
All of this trouble for a party. I shook my head, glaring at myself in the mirror.
This dress was not half bad. In fact, it was as though it had been tailored for me.
As I examined my own reflection, my thoughts went back to Danny Downton and the stand-up guy he was. Not only was he generous enough to use his new inheritance to buy each of his brothers their own respective ranches, but he also happened to throw some of the best parties in town.
People loved getting invited to Danny’s events for the flowing rivers of free booze and beautiful men and women flocking all around his vast estate. It was said that he would allow his guests to ride the horses in his stables, eat whatever they wanted from the catering buffet or even the kitchen, and even spend the night if they had had too much to drink and were unfit to ride their horses or drive their cars back home.
Even though we were not really friends with any of the Downtons—hell, I had only met Danny and Gigi at one of the school fundraisers—we were still invited to the party.
“He’s a nice guy, honey,” my mother had explained, “and he would never forget the relatives of the man who was behind his wealth and fortune.”
We were distant relatives, which was why I honestly did not understand. I did not mind at all, however, since it sounded like potential fun.
It was just that there were people coming from all over the country, which would normally make it interesting, but I knew that my mother would be pressuring me to strike up a conversation with every single man we saw. “You ain’t getting’ any younger!” she had been saying lately.
“Gotta see it, Lil!” Mother hollered from outside, just as I was about to step out of the dressing booth, twirling around for her and Marsha to evaluate.
“Very nice.” Marsha approvingly nodded.
“Oh, but it kinda’ shows that you’re a teacher, honey.” My mom’s eyebrows met in a wrinkle as she tilted her head.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scoffed, hiding my embarrassment behind an exaggerated glare of disapproval.
“Don’t ya listen to her.” Marsha waved a hand, chuckling. “You look fantastic.” She then quickly turned to Mom like she had something very urgent to declare. “You don’t want the rich men of the town to think that she’s tryin’ too hard, now, do yah? Those gentlemen face their fair share o’traps, y’know.”
Nodding enthusiastically, I pointed at Marsha with one hand while staring at Mom, hoping she would listen to the sense the woman was making.
“Well, what do I know.” Mom shrugged in resignation. “You’re young enough to reckon what men want these days,” she turned to Marsha, “and you sell these, so you’re the expert!”
“I’m gonna take it.” Ending their dilemma, I ripped the price tag off and walked toward the counter, followed by the two of them as they continued judging my generation with hushed remarks and stifled titters.
Satisfied with my choice, I knew that my legs were a good feature to show off, and the dress ended right above the knees. I could even pair it with my cute wedge-heeled sandals with the ankle straps.
After paying and saying our goodbyes, Mom and I walked back out onto the shopping street. I noticed that the hair salon was just opening and figured it would be a good idea to make a reservation for tomorrow since all the women invited would be crowding the place by then.
“I think I’ll get my hair done,” I announced to Mother as we crossed the street toward the quaint little shop.
“Well, hello!” Lucy, the big-haired young woman who ran the salon, stared directly at the bag I was carrying. “Comin’ in for tomorrow’s shindig, I reckon?” She smiled, her bright pink lipstick framing two rows of adorably crooked teeth.
“Hi, Luce.” I smiled back. “Yes, please. Put my name down for ten o’clock.”
“You got it.” Her fingers quickly jotted down my name in her notebook, and with a glance, I could see that there were already two women before me.
“What time will you open?”
“Well, on days with parties like that, I come in at nine. But don’t cha worry, all my girls will be here.” She continued to chew her gum, quickly glancing at Mom. “Ma’am, will you be joining?”
“Oh, no.” Mom shyly shook her head. “My hair’s short enough that I do it myself.” She touched the back of her bob cut, feeling the tips of the little hairs on her nape.
“Alrighty.” Lucy turned to me, this time evaluating my whole appearance from head to toe. “See ya tomorrow, then!” She winked at me and we were on our way.
I had to admit, it was quite exciting to know that tomorrow’s party was a big deal and that I got to be part of it. The Downton events were always the talk of the town, and seeing how women looked at me like I was royalty just for being invited added a touch of excitement to my weekend.
School was good, my job was fun and I loved the kids, but the routine and lack of action were not lost on me. In a small town like ours, with just one movie theater, a handful of bars, and a singular, large park, not too many events were as exciting as rich folk entertainment. Let alone the fact that we hardly got to meet any new people.
As soon as we got home, we noticed that my sister’s shoes were out on the porch. Bless her heart, she had adopted the habit of taking off her shoes before entering a house because of her child’s mysterious illness.
“Hey, Bee!” I squealed and it came out exaggerated. After all, we were trying our best to cheer her up in light of the current crisis.
“Hey, hon.” She hugged me, although her entire body felt limp. “Any luck with shoppin’?”
“Yeah.” I automatically pulled out the dress from the bag, showing it to her and Dad, who sat quietly in his chair, glancing nonchalantly from over the frames of his reading glasses.
“It’s so pretty.” She mildly smiled, tilting her head with a kind look in her eyes.
“Little short if you ask me,” my dad mumbled to himself, returning his focus onto the paper.
“Nonsense!” Mom objected, putting down her purse and walking over to the kitchen. “They had the fieriest blue number with a scoop neck that your prude here didn’t even wanna try!” Pulling mugs from the pantry, she shook her head.
“At least someone in this house listens to me.” He chuckled, winking at me and Bianca.
Sitting down on the sofa next to my sister, I touched her hand, giving her my full attention. “What did Lenny’s doctor say?”
“Well, since he’s only three, it could be a number of things.” Deflated, she slumped her back as she shifted, throwing her head back onto the large cushion behind her. “It ain’t gettin’ better, though. So we’re goin’ for more tests on Monday.”
“I’m sorry.” I sighed, tightening my grip around her hand. “Is there anythin’ we can do?”
“Pray for him, will yah?” Her voice was devoid of hope. “We can’t bear to see him like that.”
“Poor little guy.” Mom returned with a tray full of coffee mugs. “I’ll have Father Douglas light some candles for him on Sunday.”
“Say,” I suddenly had an idea, “why don’t you leave him with Bea and come with us tomorrow? Take your mind off things a little? I’m sure Bruce could use blowin’ some steam, too.”
“She did offer,” she exhaled sharply, blinking before shaking her head, “but Bruce and I just can’t get ourselves to do it.”
“C’mon, she’s his sister. It ain’t the first time she babysat Lenny!”
“No, yeah—no… it ain’t that.” She paused, holding in her breath for a moment. “I just don’t got the heart to leave him when he’s so unwell.”
Turning to Mother, my eyes pleaded for her to join in and help me convince Bianca. In reality, however, she did not seem to approve at all.
“I get it.” She slowly shook her head. “I could never leave any of you girls when you caught the flu.”
Glaring, I began to grind my teeth. “But he’s gonna be okay, Mama.” I quickly turned to my sister. “He will, I know it.”
“Yeah,” she mindlessly mumbled, leaning forward to pick up her cup. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Lil.”
After Bianca was done with her visit, Father went upstairs to take a nap while Mother decided to get dinner started. I, on the other hand, had a pile of homework papers to correct.
Working with a great deal of focus, the red pen in my hand was my best friend as I went over my students’ work. I was blessed with a good class this year, but it would soon come to an end as the summer breeze greeted our town.
My concentration spree did not last long, since—once again—my mind went back to Bianca and Bruce and their misfortune with Lenny’s condition. It must be a devastating feeling to have learned that your child was ill, yet have absolutely nothing to do to make it better. It was all in the hands of doctors, science, and medication. That was if his case proved to be treatable at all.
What an awful thought. I almost felt a shudder down my spine.
Lenny’s health crisis had begun about a week ago, and it had been casting a dark shadow over our days—all of us. We did not know how to help or how long it would last.
We did not know anything for that matter.
What a risk it seemed to bring a child into the world, beautiful and pure, full of potential, only to learn that their entire existence was as fragile as anything else on this Earth.
Starting to feel blue, I tossed my pen aside and stood up, marching out and over to the liquor cabinet in the kitchen.
“What do you think you’re doin’?” Mother glared at me as she stood in front of the stove, stirring soup.
“What?” I pulled a bottle of wine. “One glass.”
“Before dinner?”
“Thinkin’ ‘bout Lenny got me down.”
“I know.” Her eyes twinkled with a thin film of tears. She remained quiet, silently stirring as I poured myself a glass.
“Gimme one o’those.” She finally said it quickly as if afraid that she would soon change her mind.
Since Dad was still napping, neither one of us saw a reason to hurry dinner. After turning off the stove, Mom brought her glass over and joined me at the island table, leaning over the edge as her elbow rested on the wooden surface.
“Y’know,” she sighed, “we were blessed that you and your sister were fairly healthy kids. But remember Aunt Natalie and her boys? They were always sick, always sick.” She kept waving her hand about as if warding off an invisible evil spirit in the room. “It made me appreciate how lucky we were.”
“I just hate to think that poor little Lenny would be sufferin’ for long.” I slowly took a sip, contemplating my next statement. “Bianca and Bruce don’t deserve to live like this, either. They’re still young, not even thirty. Why do bad things happen to good people?”
Without removing her eyes from her glass, Mom reached with her hand and touched mine, her soft yet wrinkled fingers pressing gently against mine.
“Say,” she suddenly mustered a big smile, “why don’t you finish your work, and I get dinner ready? And after we eat, we sit out on the porch with chamomile and some music? Huh?”
“I was thinkin’ more like the rest o’this bottle,” I smirked, raising my glass for the statement before taking a sip.
“Unacceptable,” she said matter-of-factly. “Drinkin’ any more will give you bags under the eyes, and tomorrow, you’ll look pale and beat-up.”
“C’mon, Mom, it’s the weekend.” My tone conveyed how lame I thought she was being.
“And it ain’t no party that happens every weekend!” she insisted, pushing herself up. “You can sulk another day, okay?”
“Or I can drink like a whale tomorrow,” I said in a low voice to myself as I picked up my glass and went back to my room.
I spent another hour correcting, burying myself under layers of misspelled words and grammatical mistakes. They said the best way to distract yourself was through work, and here I was, doing exactly that. I only realized the time when I heard Mother calling for dinner, and magically, it was already eight o’clock.
Dinner was tasty, or was I too hungry? I could not discern. All I knew was that by the time we were done eating, Mother and I looked at each other knowingly and smiled. Father simply got up, grabbing his nightly newspaper as he always did, and went out onto the porch.
“Take this.” She handed me her little radio and went into the kitchen to make our herbal tea.
When I followed Dad outside, he first glanced at me with just the corner of his eye. “What’s that?” he uttered without looking up.
“Music.” I shrugged, tuning in to a local country station and setting the volume on medium.
“Since when?” he scoffed with a low voice.
“Since we’re all goin’ to the Downton party tomorrow and might as well use some cheerin’ up.”
“You mean denial about Lenny?”
I thought that was a little too harsh.
“He will be okay, Daddy!” I objected.
“Sure.” He cleared his throat, and in his eyes, I caught a glimpse of doubt. “Where’s your mother?”
“Makin’ us chamomile.”
“Jesus,” he rolled his eyes, “that’s gon’ send me right into bed.”
“You did nap a little.” I defied his logic.
“What’s with that new dress you bought?”
“Figured ain’t been to a party in a while. Fashion’s changed.”
Slightly scowling, he yanked his paper straight and kept on reading.