It's Just Lola (30 page)

“
Y
ou remember Pepe
,
”
said
Juan. 

Lola
shuddered.  “I remember the funeral.  This
letter
was for Pepe?”
 
She could tell by the expression on Juan’s face that whatever he was about to say would not be good. 

“I think that ‘JJ’ is Jacoba Jardinero.  Your father refuses to consider the possibility.  We thought at first that the letter was addressed to Pepe the gardener, but his name might have been Gardener, Jardinero.
  Instead of Pepe the gardener, it was for Pepe Gardener.
”

“I still don’t understand.”

“When Jacoba came here, she said she was the daughter of a small plantation owner. 
El Patrón
would never have married her if he
thought
her father was a common Cholo.
”  Juan took a deep breath.
 
“
I belie
ve
that Jacoba
killed
Pepe to make sure her secret
was safe
.”

“Holy Mary, mother of God
—
h
er own father
?
”

“Perhaps.  We have no proof.”

“But you could get proof.  You could answer that letter and Filipe could tell you if she
’
s his sister. 
And
shouldn’t someone tell Filipe that his father
’
s dead? 
Why haven’t you done it, Juan?”

“It isn’t my place, Señora.”

“It isn’t your place to have the letter, but I see it in your hand.”

“I took it out of the trash—insurance.”

“
How could
F
ather with his rigid ideas of right and wrong and his unbreakable moral code
,
let a woman like that live as his wife?”

“I
think
your father can
’
t admit to himself that it might be true.  He just can’t do it.  How could he possibly marry his gardener’s daughter?  How could he possibly marry a criminal of the worst kind?  Patricide is one of the most despicable crimes imaginable.”  Juan got up and began pacing back and forth in the small office like a caged lion.
 
“
Y
our father
may
not
be
convinced it
’
s
not
true.”  Juan stopped pacing and gave Lola pleading look.  “Lola,
think about what it would do to your father if we did find proof.
 
If my suspicions are correct, i
t would destroy him
.
”

“But
even if he has any suspicion—to
let a woman like that live as his wife?  He can live with that?”

“He
must shut it out of his mind somehow
.”

“I suppose that explains a lot,” said Lola. 
H
er eyes clouded as she thought of what her father lived with day after day.  She didn
’
t think he was right
to do it
, but she understood.

Juan put the letter in his pocket.  “If anything happens to anyone in your family that even hints at irregularity, then the letter will be shown to the villagers.  They still suspect Jacoba is in league with Satan, and they have a great capacity for violence.”  Lola felt a wave of nausea as she grasped his meaning.

~ ~ ~

“You can still take the carriage,” said Juan
as Lola, James, Estela, and Yousef climbed into the wagon
.  “I can bring a driver along to bring it back here.”

“No, it
’
s more fun for the children to ride the wagon.  In the carriage they
’
re shut up inside.  This way they get to see everything.”
  The children entertained them all with their excited chatter all the way to the city.

“Thanks for the ride, Tío Juan,” said Lola with a grin as James watched a porter unload their luggage. 

“You know where I am if you ever need me,” Juan said seriously as he reached out and touched her cheek.

“I’ll need you to be here next week to pick us up,”
said
Lola.  Taking her children’s hands, she turned and follow
ed
James and the porter
into the station
.  James walked up to the ticket counter and bought tickets for Lima.  Lola
’s breath caught with excitement
.  “I thought we were going to stay in a hotel for a week
.
”

“We are…
but
the hotel is in Lima.”

Lola was as excited as the children about the train ride to the capital.  Yousef quickly fell asleep as the train rocked and the wheels clacked rhythmically.  Lola and Estela glued themselves to the window and talked endlessly about what they were seeing.  When the terrain became monotonous
Estela joined her brother in sleep, and Lola leaned against James contentedly.

By the time they reached Lima, Lola was too tired to care that the hotel had threadbare carpet.  The next morning James took them all to the British Embassy.  He
found
a place for them to sit and wait until he came for them.  James seemed anxious and unwilling to talk, so Lola learned little more than the fact that he needed a new passport. 

At last James returned and led them into a small room where an Englishman sat at a desk in front of a battered typewriter.  Lola had never seen a typewriter, but she
’
d seen pictures
.  She
watched in fascination as the man inserted a form in the machine and began to ask questions and transfer the answers onto the form.  The man addressed his questions to James and the entire exchange was in English.  Lola knew a few words and paid close attention.

“Wife’s name?”

“Lola.”

“Dolores,” said the man.

“No,” said Lola, “My name
’
s
not
Dolores.  It
’
s
just
Lola.”

“Your real name must be Dolores.  Lola
’
s a nickname,” said James.

“Did you look at the paper the priest wrote when we were married?  My name is Lola.”  It was difficult for Lola to keep her voice calm.  She didn
’
t want the man at the desk to know she was arguing with her husband—especially about her name.  How could a husband not know his wife’s name?  It was embarrassing.

“That was only an ignorant village priest.”

Lola lowered her voice even more, hoping it would not carry beyond James’ ears.  “Priests are not ignorant.
 
My mother refused to name me Dolores because it means pain and sorrow.  She said there was too much pain and sorrow in the world without saddling a child with that name.  My mother named me Lola.” 

“But that isn’t even a Christian name.”

“Perhaps not, but Isabel is.  My whole name is Lola Isabel Victoria Consuelo Herrera Osman.”

“
Atkins
,” added James.

“
Atkins
,” echoed Lola.

“Very well,” James said.  “Wife’s name:  Lola Isabel.”

“L-O-L-A  A-T-K-I-N-S
,” the man typed.

“Daughter’s name?” asked the man.

“Estela.”

“E-S-T-E-L-L-E  A-T-K-I-N-S
,” tapped the machine.

“Son’s name?”

“Yousef.”

“J-O-S-E-P-H  A-T-K-I-N-S
,” typed the man.  Lola gave a silent apology to Mehmet.  An English name fit better on an English passport. 

James smiled
when he put the new passport in his pocket.  T
hey walked to a nearby park for coffee and to let the children play under the trees. 

“So tell me about all those names I never knew you had,” he said as they walked.

“Isabel was my mother’s mother and Victoria was my father’s mother.  Consuelo was my mother’s sister, or maybe her aunt.  I never met any of them, but I think my parents missed having family when they moved here so we all have lots of family names.  Mother sometimes told us stories about when she was young and lived in Spain.”

“At least people spoke the same language when they got here.  I was expecting to live in the United States where everyone speaks English, almost.”

“You mean almost everyone speaks English or everyone almost speaks English?” asked Lola with a mischievous grin.

“Both,” laughed James.  “Immigrants often make their own little villages inside cities so some of the older people live entirely surrounded by people from their own country and never learn to speak English at all.  However, I was talking about the educated Americans who speak a form of English that has evolved from proper English to have its own words and its own pronunciations.”

“Like the Cholos’ Spanish
.
  They have some of their own words and some of their grammar is different.
”  Lola nodded. 
“But why were you expecting to live in the United States?  Surely you knew the Panama Canal wasn
’
t there?” 

James laughed.
 
“I was hired by John Frank Stevens to work on railroads, but by the time I reached America he
’
d been appointed to the Panama Canal.  My expertise is rail, but he brought me with him to the Canal project.”

James was in good spirits as they talked, watching the children explore their new surroundings.  “And now, my dear, if you learn English as quickly as you learn other things, we
’
ll make a proper English lady of you in no time.”

“Why should you want me to be a proper English lady?”

“I thought that perhaps we
’
d go to live in England.  You
’ll
like my sister, I’m sure.”

“But you promised Papa you’d stay on the plantation.”

James’ mood changed abruptly.  “Things change.  There are things in this world more important than a promise like that.”

“What do you mean?  A promise is a promise.”

“Listen, Lola, I understand that you and your father are close, and it
’
ll be hard for you to leave him, but that
’
s just part of growing up.
You can’t believe what happened at the river was an accident.  You were the one who panicked and made me start running.  If you hadn’t made us hurry, those beautiful children might not be here today.” 

Lola was chilled by his words.  She could still hear the shrill cry of Estela telling her brother to get up and feel Yousef
’s
limp
body
in her arms.  “We
’
ll just have to make sure someone has an eye on the children every minute.  I can’t throw away Yousef’s inheritance because you want to go back to England.  It wouldn’t be right.”

“What inheritance?”

“You mean
Papa didn’t tell you?  My son, or sons, will be raised to inherit the plantation.”

“So that explains it,” James said softly. Lola felt a double sense of relief.  It was nice to know that James had married her without knowing that there would be a lot of land and money in the future; it was an even bigger relief to know that he now understood why they couldn
’
t leave the plantation.

That night in bed Lola laughed softly.

“What’s funny?” James asked.

“How many people go on a honeymoon with two children and…”  Lola moved closer to James.

“And what?”

“And another on the way.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Lola, you have no idea how happy this makes me
.
”  James hugged her so hard she could hardly breathe.  He turned the light on again.
  “That changes the timeline.”

“What
timeline
?”  Lola sat up, plumping the pillow behind her.

“I was going to leave for England right after this next job, but—“

“
T
his afternoon when I told you about the inheritance, you
said—“

“Inheritance be damned!  What good is an inheritance if he
’
s not around to enjoy it?  We can
’
t go back
, especially now with one more child at risk
.”

“But this afternoon you said something different.”

“This afternoon I said the inheritance
explained
things.  I couldn’t understand why Jacoba want
ed
to harm the children.  It
made sense once
you told me of the inheritance. 
S
he wants to get rid of Joseph
so she can inherit.
”