Page 71 of Exile & Lula
I still struggled to see her as a biker. She was so fucking beautiful and classy. Something felt too delicate about Lula to imagine her riding a motorcycle and throwing punches.
Our relationship was still so new. Lula was a stranger in a lot of ways. What I didn’t think possible today might seem very normal in a year from now.
My fingers tracing her tattoo woke Lula. She turned toward me and smiled warmly. Our gazes met first, followed by our lips. I could get used to waking up to Lula’s touch.
We enjoyed a quickie before heading to the shower to clean up. Soaping each other up led to more fun. Eventually, Lula sniffed the air.
“Is Nova cooking?”
Realizing we needed to be grownups and leave the shower, we dried off each other and got dressed.
Lula and I exited the bedroom to find Nova in a blur of kitchen activity. She worked on an egg and potato hash on the stove while also heating the waffle maker. The dishes were done, and she’d cleaned the counters.
“Please stop working,” Lula told Nova. “You’re my guest.”
“I’m no freeloader.”
“Guests don’t need to work for their supper,” Lula said and took the sponge from Nova’s hand.
Feeling scolded, my sister lost her smile and looked to me for reassurance. “What am I doing wrong?”
“You need to relax,” I said and poured coffee for Lula and me. “We don’t need a big breakfast.”
“This kitchen is beautiful, and I wanted to cook.”
“Well, okay,” Lula said and took the cup I offered her. “But I want you to feel like you’re on vacation here, not that you’re freeloading if you don’t clean and cook.”
Nova’s blue eyes revealed a mix of emotions. My sister was an incomplete person. I’d realized that within days of bringing her to Baton Rouge. She had no hobbies unrelated to motherhood or caring for a house. She didn’t have friends. Her entire wardrobe was “mom casual.”
Taking a vacation wasn’t something Nova knew how to do. We’d never gone on any trips. She wasn’t sure how to function away from home.
Right now, Nova felt lost. Knowing she couldn’t change her personality overnight, I refocused her attention on breakfast.
While she made food, I went to wake the girls. Skylar slept upside down with her feet resting on her pillow and her head poking out at the bottom of the comforter.
Lyric slept on her back with her arms and legs sticking straight out like a starfish. Ramen was curled up between the twin beds. He looked up at me when I entered.
“Go find your friend,” I told the dog and gestured for him to leave the room.
Ramen took off, as if understanding my words and excited to play with Xena again.
“Morning, Sky,” I said and stroked her head. “Your mama is making breakfast.”
“Uncle,” Lyric mumbled from the other bed.
I reached over to stroke her head, winning a smile. “Did you sleep okay?”
Lyric nodded immediately while Skylar ignored me and kept her eyes closed. I decided to let my older niece sleep for a while longer. Picking up Lyric, I carried her to the hall bathroom, where her step stool and potty cover were set up.
After washing her hands, Lyric touched her head and frowned. “I need my hat.”
“So do I,” I said and patted my head.
Lyric smiled at me with such love that my chest hurt. I couldn’t imagine living away from the girls for long stretches of time. But leaving Lula was also bound to kill me.
“No crying in baseball,” Lyric said and stroked my cheek. “Be my pack mule. I’m hungry.”
I carried Lyric to the kitchen, where Nova and Lula stood side by side, drinking coffee and eyeing the filled plates resting on the island.
