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“Let me know if there’s anything you and Jun need, okay?” Preston’s voice was warm and low like usual—soothing. Now that Lola was up and moving again, she almost wanted to tell him everything. About Nate and Shaun and the world before it had torn itself to pieces. She wanted to hear him tell her it would be okay. It wouldn’t be okay, but she wanted to hear it anyways. At some point. When she was feeling a little more human.
They had just finished repairing in the roof on what had once been Viola Davis’ house. Viola had always thrown the best block parties in the summer, and had kept her house immaculately clean without a Mister Handy. She would be rolling over in her grave if she could see what “clean and repaired” looked like now. Lola felt another stab of guilt at giving away her neighbors homes, but they weren’t alive anymore, were they? She pushed that thought down before it ate at her.
Marcy looked over at Preston and nodded, ignoring Lola completely. Her face had held the same pinched frown as always. Before leaving Concord, Lola had just thought that Marcy was scared and lashing out. Now that they’d been at Sanctuary for a few weeks, she realized that Marcy was just always a miserable hag. She stifled a passive-aggressive “you’re welcome,” in favor of keeping what little relative peace they seemed to have achieved for the day. Marcy slammed the door shut behind her as she ducked into the house.
“What the hell is wrong with that woman?” Lola handed Preston the toolbox.
Preston frowned but didn’t respond. Stupid. She shouldn’t gossip in front of him like that—not about people he must have known for a while. But he had to know that Marcy was insufferable.
“You should go get Jun to let him know the house is done.” Avoidance. Now she’d done it. The one person aside from her old household Mister Handy who might have taken enough pity on her to help her, and she had just alienated him. Great. Dandy. Nate would have handled that so much smoother. Nate would have handled a lot of things smoother, if he had been the one to survive. She tucked that thought away with the one about her neighbors. She had spent enough time crying.
“Where is he?”
“Last I saw, he was helping with the garden set-up. He’ll be happy to know he doesn’t have to sleep in the Common House tonight.”
Lola nodded and stuffed her hands into the pockets of the old slacks she’d found in Nate’s closet. She was more than shocked that they had survived the blast. They were too big, but they were Nate’s. Had been Nate’s, she reminded herself. She felt a creeping resentment bubble up like acid from her stomach. Marcy still had her husband. What the fuck was she so bitter about anyways. She hadn’t just woken up to lose everything. She hadn’t lost her baby and her husband and her whole god damned world in one fell swoop. Lola had to duck into the empty Common House before reaching the garden to take several deep breaths. She had a ritual by now.
Think about Nate and Shaun. Hyperventilate. Realize you’re hyperventilating. Hide until you’re back to normal.
It took a little longer for her to push down the rising panic this time. Her chest squeezed in and her heart pounded. She’d fluctuated between disassociating and repressing lately, and she knew it. Doctor Feinstein would have had a few things to say about that, but he was dead now, wasn’t he? Just like everybody else. And unhealthy coping mechanisms were still coping mechanisms right? Better than nothing. For now, she just needed to make it to point “B.” That was it.
She took a deep breath and headed for the field. Jun was there, crouched down in the dirt while he nursed one of those strange looking tomato plants to health.
“Jun?”
“Oh! Lola, right? Hi!” He waved before dusting his hands off on his jeans. “How are you?”
“Good.” That was a lie, but a seamless lie. The longer she could keep it together, the better. “Your house is finished; you can move in whenever you want.”
“Really?” He worked up a smile. When she had first met him, Jun had been a mumbling wreak, but after making it to Sanctuary, he seemed more together. He spent most of his time helping Mama Murphy set up the garden. “Oh that’s wonderful! Thanks for letting me know. I’ll go get Marcy.”
“She already knows. We ran into her and showed her.”
“Oh.” His tone shifted and he dropped his gaze to the ground. She didn’t know what she had said so wrong to get this reaction. That was two people she’d alienated in one day. Like a giant raincloud making people miserable left and right. She breathed in through her nose.
“I’m sorry if she was short with you.” She hadn’t expected Jun to apologize.
“It isn’t your fault.”
“No, it’s not. But I know she can be a little hard on people sometimes. And today has been a rough day for her.”
“Oh.”
“And, since you’re here, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for helping us out at Concord. If only we’d run into you sooner.”
“No problem.”
“No, really. Thanks. It’s been hard, you know? We lost our son.”
Son. Their son. It took a minute for that to process. Lola backed up a step.
“We used to live with the settlement at Quincy back when there was one. It was overrun by Gunners.” Jun looked like he was going to cry. His lip twitched downwards. Lola scrambled for an exit strategy—anything. She couldn’t help. She didn’t want to hear this. “Our son, was only eight. He was following around one of the Minutemen on patrol when they came. They shot him. Marcy hasn’t been the same since.”
“What was his name?” She didn’t know why she asked it. It wouldn’t help her and it wouldn’t help him. Jun gave her a watery smile.
“Kyle. My son’s name was Kyle.”
“No parent should have to lose their child.” Her head was swimming. She couldn’t breathe.
“It’s alright. It’s been hard, but things are looking up.” He wiped an arm over his eyes and took a deep breath. Lola thought she might throw up. “She and I are both grateful to live here, it is just hard some days.”
She wanted to tell him. I understand. I lost a child as well. She wanted to reach out and hug him. She wanted to tell Marcy she was sorry for their loss. She didn’t do any of that. Lola nodded and put her hand on Jun’s shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Her throat was tight.
“Thank you for fixing up the house,” he said. “It means a lot.”
Lola nodded. Jun faded in and out of clarity for a moment as the sadness welled back up from where it had been waiting in the pit of her gut.
"I think," he started. He was talking more to himself than he was to her. "I think that it is all going to be okay."
She watched as he headed for the yellow house on the Cul-de-sac. Marcy greeted him at the doorway with a curt nod, but Lola saw it. There were deep circles under Marcy’s eyes that Lola had never noticed before. Lola hugged her arms around herself, standing in the midday sun as the Longs shut the door to their new house.