Page 116 of From Nowhere

“Lola Winnie Laster, I promise you that your aunt and uncle wanted you to be their flower girl even after your accident. There’s a reason people say true love is blind. It’s because the people who really love you see your beauty in all its glorious forms. They saw it before the accident. You radiated a bright innocence. And now, your scars”—again, I brush my thumb under her eye—“they are reminders of your strength. When people look at you, they see everything they hope to be themselves. Strong. Brave. And beautiful.”

She swallows hard.

I lean down and press my lips to her forehead before whispering, “You’re alive, sweet girl. Andlifeis beautiful.”

“My mom is dead,” she murmurs.

I run my fingers through her hair to the back of her head and pull her into my embrace. “I know. And that is your ugly truth. My brother died. And that is my ugly truth.”

She wraps her arms around my waist. “Thanks for loving my dadandme.”

Tears burn my eyes just as something in the window moves. Tia folds her arms over her chest, eyeing me with displeasure, and I know I have to get out or go all in.

Lola is Ozzy’s world. Maybe they can be mine. And perhaps that’s all I’ll ever need.

“I think your dad is bringing you to my house later.” I release Lola.

“Yeah.” Lola tips her head back, surveying the sky. “But Nana said it’s supposed to rain.”

“Hopefully not.” I open my car door, and Lola glances inside my RAV. “Do you want to sit in the driver’s seat? I used to sit in the driver’s seat of my dad’s car and pretend I was driving.”

With an unreadable expression, Lola slowly shakes her head and whispers, “No.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen actual fear in her demeanor, tiny lines forming along her forehead while she chews on the inside of her cheek and wrings her hands together.

“If it rains, I’ll send pictures. And you can come tomorrow. Did I mention I bought a soft, blue velvet sofa?”

It takes Lola a few seconds to recover. Where is her mind? Back with the accident? Does she remember much from that day? I regret suggesting she sit in my driver’s seat. I’m sure more intelligent, more convincing people than me have tried to get her into a car.

She mumbles something, bringing her gaze to mine.

“What?” I ask.

“You should have bought leather.”

“A leather sofa?”

She nods. “Nana said something about a six and a dozen something. Like cats scratch leather but shed on fabric.”

Again, this girl makes me smile. My face cracks with a huge smile, or my heart breaks with her. “Six of one, half dozen of the other?”

Lola nods. “Yeah, I think that was it.”

I glance toward the window again, and Tia’s still keeping a watchful eye on us.

“She’s right. I’m going with a sticky roller for the fur instead of the scratched sofa.”

“Bandit’s worth it,” Lola says.

I climb into the driver’s seat. “He is,” I say. Bandit’s worth it because he makes Lola deliriously happy, which makes me happy. I hope she knows that her father thinks she’s worth every mile he’s put on his bike.

Every missed opportunity.

Every scowl and snide word from Tia.

I hope she feels worthy of happiness and all the love from everyone around her.

“Be careful,” Lola says with a sad smile. “Ignore Bandit if he meows.”

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