20

Layla

I enrolled Nathan in school on the following Monday. I had thought he wouldn't want me to leave him, but I was proven wrong when he excitedly bid me goodbye after I revisited him in his class upon leaving the Principal's office. Afterward, I drove down to Beverly Hills to see Georgina.

Her home was not the way I remembered it, in fact. She was no longer the way I remembered her; when she opened the door, her hair was unkempt, her clothes were soiled, and she looked like a complete disaster.

I didn't know it had gotten that far, from being sophisticated and presentable to being frozen in time and miserable. Thank God, Sofia wasn't living with her.

In the lobby, I could see the paw of Elsa molded in clay. I guessed it was a reminder of the furry creature. Sofia told me she passed away due to cancer about two years ago. The entire living room was disrupted and everything was not in place, even up to the painting on the wall, which was dangling crookedly.

"A minute." She said drowsily, shoving away some clothes to create room for me on the sofa. Adjacent to me was a pile of clothes. I wondered whether they had been laundered or not.

"I'll give you a hand. Where do these clothes go?" I dropped my purse and went to her.

She sighed.

"In my bedroom," she responded. Thank God they were washed. I could deal with trash sprayed about but dirty clothes?

"Okay." I packed the clothes and ambled into her bedroom. It was even worse than the living room. I wondered how she could sleep in such disarray. She literally slept with bottles of alcohol.

"Georgina...what do I do with you?"

Before we sat down to talk, I made sure that the house was rearranged and everything was almost in order. There were still chores to do, but I could bear with that as long as the floor was clean and there were no clothes shoes, and bottles in sight. I adjusted the crooked painting. It was The Starry Night by Van Gogh, but not the original.

"Want some?" She stretched a glass of whiskey to me.

"No. I'll make coffee for myself."

"Cool." She slumped on the sofa while I went to make a cup of coffee in the kitchen. A few minutes ago, I couldn't breathe in the kitchen, but now it was a bit manageable as I had thrown all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and I had wiped the counter clean of all sorts of stains from food and alcohol.

The houseplant on the window sill was almost dead with withering leaves. I doubted she still knew of its existence. Georgina had totally created a messy world within the walls of her apartment. She had become entirely different from the woman I once knew.

"How's Hannah doing?" She asked when I returned to the living room.

"She's doing pretty well. She glows." I responded.

"She's lucky." She chuckled.

"Maybe..."

"How have you been? Heard you were in Africa too." She gulped.

"Yeah...when did you come back to the States?"

"Not very long ago," I answered.

"I thought things were going well between you and Chege. What changed?" I questioned with concern.

"I wasn't ready to be his wife." She answered point-blank.

"Why? Is he not good enough for you?" I knew she used to be head over heels in love with him. Seriously, she had abandoned her daughter to stay with him in Kenya.

"Not that," she swallowed.

"What then?"

"I thought it best we remained unmarried, marriage is a prison. What we had could take on several features, like excursion, adventure, freedom...there would be no cause to hold anyone hostage of their feelings." She reasoned. I hadn't ever truly seen relationships in such a light. Perhaps, her miserable state had prompted so much thinking.

"Did you say all of this to him?"

"Don't doubt it." She gulped down, almost draining the bottle.

"Do you even get drunk again?"

She laughed. "I'm addicted."

"Have you ever tried coffee?"

She laughed again. I chuckled, and the room grew quiet.

"How's Sofia?" She asked at length. I thought she wouldn't.

"She's healthy, but not great. She and Charlene are having issues. Do you know she is a lesbian?"

"I felt it. She's too attached to the girl." Her answer sounded sincere.

"She loves her."

"I'm happy she has someone."

"She could use her mother too."

"Hmm." That was all she said, and then she finally drained the bottle.

"Should we order pizza and coke?" I asked, trying to neutralize the tense atmosphere.

"Sure. Bill's on you." She smiled and I nodded.

"Right, and you do not have any more alcohol." I finished.

Leo

Outside the window of my car, I watched as a mother struggled with her toddlers while carrying a large bag on her shoulders. She looked so stressed out that I was forced to reach for the door, only for me to stop when a car rode to where the trio was standing by the roadside.

The children hopped in with excitement, brushing off the cold, and then she joined them. The car sped off immediately after, just as the traffic lights turned red and the cars began to move.

Suddenly, I was reminded of Nathan. I smiled to myself, recollecting his adorable face. How was he doing? I hoped he wasn't giving his parents a hard time. My phone blipped.

Get some groceries, read my Nana's text, we'll be hosting the Stathoms for lunch.

The Stathoms, she meant Gabriel, Ariadne's uptight, pedantic, and business-oriented father, Cynthia, her sanguine, party goer mum who always cut people off, her asshole of a brother, Oliver, whom one could never truly know and finally, Cynthia's combative Doberman, Victor. I didn't like the Stathoms, they are a handful on their own. And there was Jeremy, the Catholic gay from Gettysburg who wouldn't stop getting on people's nerves.

Coincidentally, though I had decided to be late, my dad and I drove in at the same time.

"You okay? Let me help you with that." He said, reaching for one of the brown bags that was with me.

"I'm cool."

"Good. You have to be here all through, huh?" He patted my shoulder with his free hand and continued as we walked into the house," I'll have to run along midway."

"Where to?"

"I have some business I need to take care of. How's work? It's the Investors' Acknowledgement Week, isn't it?" My dad asked.

"Yeah. The conference meeting is tomorrow. Will you be there?" I inquired.

"I'll have to check my schedule, I'm pretty busy this week." He finished.

I found my mum leaning against the wall, outside the kitchen. She had an apron on, and she seemed to be sweating despite the weather.

"You've been overused?" I passed by her to drop the groceries in the kitchen.

"I look terrible, don't I? Be sincere." She was saying to my dad.

"You look gorgeous as ever, darling." He said, and I heard a smack. She let out an amorous groan thereafter. They literally could make out anywhere.

"There you are." Nana walked into the kitchen and my dad followed behind her.

"I got what I could," I said.

"Thank you. You look pale, by the way," She mentioned.

"I just need some rest."

"Where is your wife?" She turned to my dad.

"Didn't you pass by her outside?"

"No."

I peered outside the kitchen, and she was not there.

"Maybe she went to the restroom." My dad suggested.

"Or perhaps she went out of the house without having made the salad I asked her to make." Nana frowned.

"The servants can help you with that, Nana."

"I still can't believe you married such lazy bones like Iliana when you had a mother like me. I thought men looked for women who in some way were like their mother." She was glaring at my dad. One of the servants turned on the faucet and began to wash the fruit I had just got.

"She's pretty like you." My dad defended.

She frowned harder.

"Leo, my boy, don't count your dear mother as a role model for your future wife. She's nothing near a wife material." She advised.

"Hmm, but Ariadne is not that different."

"Leo?" She stretched a glare. My dad let out loud chuckles, reaching for a basket of apples. He took one and munched on it.

"Tasty." He licked his lips, much to Nana's annoyance.

"You shouldn't touch anything in this kitchen unless your wife is here to show for it. All you see in this kitchen is my hard work!" She groaned.

"I'll just leave now." He said, munching away.

"Don't force a conversation when they come. Please note that." I turned to leave.

"You are already worse than your father, Leonardo. Do you boys ever listen? Get Iliana here right this instant!" Her voice trailed behind me.

"A cigarillo?" I asked Grandpa when I got to the living room. He was rocking his chair with his eyes shut, smoking away. A plume of smoke was still dancing in the air.

"It's never exhausted. Come sit with me." He beckoned.

"You cool?"

"Cool is an understatement." His voice shook. I smiled.

Grandpa and I never really talked about anything in particular, but we always had this good connection anytime we sat together. He was eighty, and I was thirty-five, but then our likes and dislikes, points of view, and opinions rarely didn't match. I believe I took after him the most.

"Hello, oldies." Jeremy waltzed in. As usual, he was dressed in colorful pants, a vintage shirt (with a million colors), a neckerchief, pink shades, bright-colored shoes, and a large pink bag.

He was looking as ridiculous as ever.

"Why are you here this early?" My eyes peered at him suspiciously.

"She sent me here, I have no clue why." He gave a short, hollow laugh.

"Just sit quietly and act like you don't exist in this room."

"Why should I do that?" He gave his head an awkward scratch. Yeah, his hair was pink too.

"It's an order." I glared at him, knitting my brows at him.

"What is the name?" Grandpa asked, out of the blue.

"Me? You're referring to me?" Jeremy was blinking so profusely. I understood why; Grandpa had never spoken to him, never in all the times he had been there.

"Yes, the Axolotl..."

"What's that?" He was looking around. "Are you referring—"

He immediately took out his phone.

"What the..." He swallowed before he could utter one more word.

"Any problem?" Grandpa asked.

"No, no sir." He trembled and sat on the sofa, glancing from his phone to Grandpa.

"What's Axolotl?" I asked, suddenly interested in their conversation.

"I have no idea." Grandpa shrugged.

"Jeremy, I believe you looked it up."

"Never mind," he gave a wry smile and sat quietly.

"You should do as he said, don't exist." Grandpa flatly said.

"Of course." I could see he was quaking, but I didn't know the cause of it. Perhaps it was the cold weather, or suddenly, he had become feverish.

What was Axolotl, by the way?

Layla

When I picked Nathan up from school at three, he was so excited to tell me everything that had happened in his class.

"And my second friend is Danielle. She has a large doll." He chirped.

"That's so cute. You like her, don't you?"

"I like her a lot, and I like Richard too." I snapped the seatbelt around him.

"That's so nice of you. What do you think of your teacher, Miss Honey?"

"She's pretty!" he chimed.

"Oh my God, did you tell that to her?" I stroked his hair.

"No, no, but I'll tell her tomorrow." He smiled.

"Miss Honey is pretty, that's how you say it," I repeated.

"Not more than mummy."

"Not more than mummy, really?" I laughed.

"Yes, not more than mummy. You are the prettiest." He touched my face and gave me a kiss.

"Thanks, my love." I gave him a forehead kiss.