lost in the light {n.h ou}

california dreamin' on such a winter's day

"You have to meet people where they are, and sometimes you have to leave them there."

-iyanla vanzant

winter

Winter hits Los Angeles with all the grace of a hurricane. Not that Charlie had any idea what those were like. Hurricanes never hit the coast of California. Years of watching the news in the background, she had the basic idea. Larger than any storm had the right to be. Winds ripping trees from the ground like people pull weeds. Rain flooding streets kids had ridden their bikes down the week before. Power lines littering parks and creeks. Life had been fine and within days the storm took everything. All chaos and panic and uncertainty. Then, before the storm could swallow you whole, you found yourself in the eye.

Life for Charlie tended to be one storm after another. Comical at times, as if some god was writing out an absurd cliché riddled movie. Parents who were both hurricanes. Stumbling together in an attempt to create a life. Someone should have told them the movie about the model and the rockstar always ended in flames. In their defense, they did manage to make it through most of the nineties.

Time and a couple stints in rehab had calmed them through the years. The three of them had hobbled together something resembling a family dynamic.

Saturdays were for her mother. Warm and sunny. Food piling high on tables, aunties pinching her hip bones, bright colored plates pushed her way, hundreds of different conversations firing away at once, Spanish and English dancing together, Charlie's mother smiled brighter these days. Until Charlie reached for a tortilla, too much corn mija it will go to your hips, she would say. Like a little girl reprimanded at the dinner table, Charlie still listened. Maybe some part of you never stopped hearing your mother's words. Maybe some part of you always yearned for that approval.

Tuesdays were for her father. Weekends were for him chasing after someone Charlie's age. Little bit of pot. Not as fun now it was legal, he would tell her with a wave of his hand. Music and surfing. Two things they held sacred. Together, they would drift along the waves. Sharing what they listened to. Usually he would say something along the lines of, music's not like it used to be Charlie. Laughter would pass between them. Charlie called him a grumpy old man. They'd catch a wave.

Other days were -chaotic. And December found Charlie struggling to remember how to breathe. Graduate school and exams and final projects. Looming over her head like a storm cloud. Darkening and darkening and darkening. Ink stains marked her left hand. Lilac bags hung under her eyes, matching the sunrise over Laurel Canyon.

Work, school, collapse. Work, school, collapse. Work, school, collapse.

Coffee was another relevant aspect of life. Downing the morning cup. Standing in line for eight-dollar coffee at Alfred's for her boss. Inevitably spilling it.

Why Charlie had believed grad school was a good idea was lost on her by the time December came around. Why Charlie had been stubborn and refused her dad's help with a job and had thus ended up as an assistant, was lost on her. Present Charlie had thousands of questions for past Charlie.

Especially when she found herself stuck in traffic on Sunset.

Car horns blared through the cracked window. Interrupting the never-ending monologue. Sighing, Charlie reached down for her coffee, taking a long sip. It may be overpriced, but damn if it wasn't good. Besides, traffic was better with good coffee.

The sun beat down on the asphalt. Reflecting off all the cars and sending lights everywhere. LA never quite understood the concept of winter. Instead they wound up with a heatwave. Little ripples coming off the road, mocking the holiday décor. Heat like this made people go crazy. Thinking about how she was going to be peeling her thighs off the leather seats soon made Charlie go a little crazy.