A half-eaten plate of chocolate chip cookies they’d baked together sat on the coffee table, two glasses of partially drank milk beside it.
Jack had told Lola she’d somehow become Isabelle’s role model, which was scary at best. Plus she didn’t believe him. Lola thought Isabelle just hung around her to agitate her and she was good at it.
It was turning into a weekly routine for Isabelle to show up at Lola’s whenever Jack was working and Lola wasn’t. If Lola didn’t find Isabelle so amusing, she would have forbade her to come over a long time ago. Well, she told herself that anyway.
Lola had to admit, grudgingly, that she enjoyed Isabelle’s company, sulky disposition and all.
“I can’t do this!” Isabelle wailed and undid Lola’s hair, being particularly rough as she shook it loose with her hand, her nails like talons in Lola’s thick hair.
“Hey. Easy! That’s real hair on a real head, you know,” Lola complained, ducking out of Isabelle’s reach. She moved from the floor to the bay window, putting plenty of space between them.
Isabelle’s pretty face was set in a scowl, her arms crossed. “I suck. I’m never going to learn how to do this.”
For only being a year younger than Lola, Isabelle was decades below as far as maturity went. Jack had spoiled her, which Lola didn’t think would have been possible, given their circumstances growing up. Yet somehow he’d managed to find a way to do it. He was sneaky like that.
“You’re never going to learn if you give up and throw fits,” Lola said, rubbing her sore head.
“I do not throw fits!”
Lola looked at her, trying to find some patience. Isabelle had on a pretty pale green sundress and sandals, her blond curls framing her face. The girl had no idea how pretty she was, even with a pout on her face. Probably a good thing.
“Here. Grab that mirror. Sit on the floor.” Lola moved to the couch and sat behind Isabelle, parting her hair in threes. “I’ll show you how to do it and then you can practice some more.”
Isabelle was quiet as Lola worked, a look of concentration on her face as she watched Lola’s fingers move through her curls.
“May I ask why it is so important you learn to braid hair?”
She didn’t answer, finally asking, “Who taught you how to braid hair?”
Lola’s gaze collided with Isabelle’s in the handheld mirror. “My mother.” Discomfort pricked her chest, but it wasn’t the stabbing agony it used to be.
Isabelle looked down. “I didn’t know my mom. She died when I was born. I never got to do any of those mother daughter things, like braiding hair. Jack tried.” A warm smile stretched her lips. “He was terrible at it. My hair ended up in ratted knots that had to be cut out.”
Lola laughed softly. “At least he tried, I guess.”
“Yeah.” Isabelle got a distant look on her face. “He’s done so much for me, given up so much. I didn’t really have a mother or father, just Jack. He was both. Jack was everything for me.”
She knew. Jack tried to protect the ones he loved as best he could and would do anything for them as well.
Lola quietly put a rubber band around the end of the braid. “There you go.”
She put the mirror down and twisted to face Lola. “Thank you.”
Uncomfortable and unused to the more sensitive side of Isabelle, Lola just nodded and got up to grab another cookie.
“My dad moved away.”
Lola froze with the cookie halfway to her mouth, swallowing what was in her mouth. “Oh?”
Jack had told her, but it was another thing entirely for his sister to confide in her. For whatever reason, Isabelle had picked Lola as a confidante. Maybe she just had no one else to talk to. Maybe she knew Lola would understand.
Isabelle got to her feet and moved to the picture window, looking out at the sunny day. “I’m glad.”
I am so glad.
Jack had been right; his father had signed over guardianship to Jack without qualm.
She turned to face Lola, studying her. “I’m also glad Jack has you. You’re good for him. He deserves to be happy for once.”
“He deserves to be happy for the rest of his life.”
“So we’re in agreement.”
Lola shifted her feet, hating to admit it. “You could say that.”
“Scary.”
“You could say that too.” Lola smiled when Isabelle laughed and spontaneously hugged her.
***
It was a sunny day in early June when Lola got the news. She and her aunt were weeding the flowers around the house. It was dirty, time-consuming work, but also cathartic. It was hot out and Lola’s top and shorts clung to her with sweat. The tree shade helped protect them from the sun, but not so much the heat.