summer love / lewis redman

day 13

"Luciana?" Mama's voice called from the foot of the basement stairs. Lucy rolled over from where she had her face buried in her pillows, having fallen asleep somewhere within the last chapter of Withering Heights.

"Mama?" She called back lazily, dragging the back of her hand over her eyes and pushing herself to sit up.

The steps creaked as her mother entered the doorway, resting Lucy's finished and folded laundry-filled basket on one wide hip, holding a severely wrinkled envelope in her other hand. "What is this, mija?"

"Why are you speaking English?" Lucy asked, tearing her eyes away from the paper that she'd hoped would get ruined in the wash so she didn't have to throw it away herself.

"I thought Lewis coming to dinner?" Mama asked, walking into her daughter's room and setting the envelope on the dresser as she passed, setting the basket on the foot of Lucy's messy bed. "I practice."

"Was." Lucy filled in the missing word. "He was coming to dinner, he's not anymore." She corrected, sitting up fully and pulling her blankets up over her hips.

Mama frowned, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She rested a wrinkled hand on the outline of Lucy's leg, and as much as she wanted to pull away, Lucy knew the one person she could never recoil from was her mother. "Why did you put the card in a ball?"

Lucy would've laughed at her mother's choppy English, for she had never had an incentive to learn until now and thus had no basis like her daughter did. But her heart ached, and the ball of dread sat too low in her stomach to allow her to even force a smile. 

"He wants me to give up my life here so I can go live with him in London, Mama." Lucy explained, pulling her hands up into the sleeves of her hoodie. "I have a job, friends, you and Papa."

Mama laughed, her face pulling into one of the smiles that filled every single line on her skin, throwing her head back like Lucy had always seen and somehow picked up. "Oh, mija! Jobs are everywhere!"

"You and Papa aren't," Lucy defended, feeling the wrinkle between her eyebrows deepen. 

Her mother reached out, cooing as she tenderly placed a hand on her daughter's cheek. "That was why I practice English! I want to be better when you and Lewis come visit."

"Mama, I'm not going." Lucy shook her head, placing her hand over her mother's for a moment before pulling it away from her face softly. "He thinks I need saving, that this life is bad and his is better."

"Mija, this life is not bad!" Mama grinned, spreading her arms wide around them. "But this life will never change. London has more."

"But - "

"Why do you fight?" Mama asked, frowning at her daughter. "You have a man who loves you and asks you to give something up for him, why do you say no?"

Her mother stood up, the face she wore telling Lucy that the worst thing she could do was keep trying to talk her mother down on the matter. "Luciana, you are muy egoista!" She announced, abandoning English in favor of the words she didn't know.

"How am I selfish?" Lucy asked, crossing her arms tightly. "He's selfish! He expects me to give up everything for him."

"No, you silly girl." Mama smiled again, this time out of pity at how blind she had raised her daughter to be. "He gives you planes and meets your mama and speaks bad Spanish to try and see your world. And you say you will never see his. I gave up so much for Papa, and that is why I have you."

She left, closing the door behind her with a soft click of the latch. Lucy stayed, tightly wound with her arms and legs crossed tightly for a moment before she threw her body back against her bed, squeezing her eyes shut tightly and releasing an agitated groan.

Her mother couldn't possibly see what Lucy did in what he asked, everything that he asked of her in such a simple little question. How could her mother have been so blind to what Lucy saw? But how could she have been blind to what her mother saw, too?

Lucy curled her legs to her chest tightly, hugging them as she gazed out the window at the setting sun.

The sheets wrinkled as he rolled over, turning away from the sun as it dipped lower, hiding behind the buildings that popped up like flowers throughout the city. He let go of his legs and stretched them so his toes tugged at the foot of the tightly made bed he'd torn apart as he tossed and turned, trying to sleep or wake up or anything as the boys began getting ready for their last night out.

Lewis buried his head in his pillow letting out a breath and holding it until he had to choke for air, his throat burning as the oxygen broke through. He wondered when that same feeling would go away once he was back in London.