Page 97 of Nothing Less than Magic
“I figured out the significance of that cop in your dream, the one Dad and Big Al worked with at LAPD,” Lolly announces.
“Yeah? What’s his significance?”
“He wasn’t telling you to say hi to Dad for him because you were at death’s door. He told you to say hi to him as a message.”
“What’s the message, then?”
“That you should go to Dad, that you should talk to him and find whatever forgiveness you can muster. He was sending you to him. He was telling you to say goodbye and to extend an olive branch. To finish it, Chelsea, so you . . . we . . . could move on.”
I take in what she’s said, because it makes sense. “Like we did today?”
“Like we did today. I think subconsciously you knew that, and that’s why the visit to their graves was so important to you, why you needed to do it.”
“What about you?” I ask her. “Did it help?”
She nods. “I think so. It was this ugly thing that never went away. But maybe now we can just concentrate on the beauty. Because before Dad did what he did, we had a beautiful life.”
“Yep.” I reach for her hand. “And we’re going to make it beautiful again. I promise.”
We eat, our hearts full. And the lightness fills me again. For all its difficulty, today was a good day.
“What’s going on with you and Austin?” Lolly breaks the silence.
“He wants to move in next year. January.”
“Are you going to let him?”
She and I haven’t discussed Austin since he left me—or anything, for that matter. But I assume she’s gotten all the gory details from Uncle Sylvester.
I nod. “He loves me.” But I know I’m saying it more for myself than I am for Lolly.
“He left you.”
“Yes, he did. Brent left you. But if he wanted to come back, you would let him, wouldn’t you?”
“First of all, it’s different for me than it is for you,” she says. “Brent and I have kids together. I have to think about my children. But even still, I wouldn’t take him back. You know why? Because I’m sick the fuck of people always leaving.”
I can’t argue with that. Because I’m sick the fuck of it, too.
“So are you saying I shouldn’t take Austin back?”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort. I’m saying you do you.”
“That’s helpful.”
“You’re the fancy, famous marriage expert. You figure it out.”
“I already have. But thanks for your input, such as it is.”
We finish lunch and drive to her house, where I’ve left my car. I still don’t know where I stand with her. She’s so unpredictable. But I get the sense that we’ve made inroads. Going to Forest Lawn together was a huge step. A small piece of closure.
Before I leave, I pull her in for a hug. She tries to pull away, but I won’t let her.
“I love you, Lolly.”
She doesn’t say it back, and it hurts. It’s like losing a part of yourself. It’s like losing everything.
“Bye, bitch.” She pulls away and starts walking to the house, then calls over her shoulder. “See ya in Ghost. Shitty name for a town, by the way.”
