The Misfortunes of Lolita

14 | when lolita struck

THIS IS AN UNEDITED AND SIGNIFICANTLY DIFFERENT VERSION OF THE MISFORTUNES OF LOLITA. I AM PUBLISHING IT IN FALL 2021—PLEASE FOLLOW ME ON IG @/ls.akhter and GOODREADS (L AKHTER) TO STAY UPDATED. I am so excited to share TMoL with you again.

CHAPTER 14

"The worst and best three words in the world are I, Love, and You, in that order." - Lolita's writing journal.

When Frank came home from the hospital that night, he couldn't help but glance at the right side of the hallway, where Lolita's door remained closed.

"Come on," Martha was searching for the house keys in her brown leather purse.

As Cora watched their mother with furrowed brows, Frank remembered how she'd been annoyed that he had to come home earlier than recommended.

He remembered his mother's steely eyes as she spoke to the doctor.

"Mrs. Novak," Dr. Yang had scratched the scruff of facial hair on his jawline uneasily. "Frank should stay another night here, for precautions."

Martha had been quiet for three seconds, in which Frank thought that he might actually be staying. And then she'd spoken. "I know that's a scheme to get me to spend more money, doc. I want my son out of this place."

They had been talking outside Frank's hospital room. He'd looked down at his fingers just then, remembering how Lolita's fingers had brushed the lines of his palms as though they were flower petals. He hated the fact that he had to remember. He should be holding her hand right now - but. He was not.

Martha hadn't had a single drop of shame in her voice as she'd talked to the doctor, even though Frank had known the real reason he couldn't stay another night - the same reason his father couldn't stay a night when he'd gotten alcohol poisoning.

They just couldn't afford it.

Frank nearly flinched now, thinking of how much five days at a hospital must have cost his mother. And all because of his mistake - all because of his bad temper.

"Ma," Cora said as Martha continued to fidget through her purse. "I have a spare one. It's okay."

"I have a key," she wouldn't even look up from her purse. The closer Frank looked, the more he noticed how shaky her fingers were. He noticed the drop of tear that was rolling down from her tear duct to the side of the bridge of her nose.

Cora grabbed her purse, and tugged it away from her. "Okay. I have the key, alright?" she took her spare key out of her bag, and jammed it into the door, opening it.

Their mother stared at her empty, pink fingers for a long moment, and then looked up. "Yeah. Okay."

Her eyes were reddened, and she brushed her stray hair back away from her forehead, desperately trying to tuck it into her ponytail.

"Mama," Frank said. "You need to rest."

She cracked a smile. "Says you, kid. You just got out of the hospital."

They all walked in, and Cora all but threw her and Martha's bags onto the couch.

"I feel fine, honestly," Frank said.

It was a partial truth. He did feel alright. His shoulder didn't hurt, and the wound on his forehead felt more numb than anything, ever since the doctor injected his meds.

What didn't feel fine were his fingers, that craved the touch of Lolita's skin, and his heart, that felt as though it was poisoned, and his head wasn't hurting, not really - but there was this jabbing somewhere in there, as if someone was cupping his brain and pushing their thumbs onto the flesh.