Aliens on Aventine Hill

Lola [Part 4]

"Hey."

"Hey to you too," Lola's face twisted instinctively into a smile as she adjusted her grip on the phone handset. She twisted her fingers into the cord, "I've been trying to get ahold of you all morning."

"Oh, it's you."

Lola's brow wrinkled at the disappointment in the voice on the other end of the line. She laughed uncomfortably, "Yeah, it's me. Were you hoping for somebody else?"

He hesitated for a moment too long, but she ignored it, "Is everything alright? I called you earlier, when you didn't show, but nobody picked up. With everything that's happened lately, I was terrified something might've—"

"I overslept."

She bit her lip, humming worriedly, "That's not like you, Gray. Did something happen?"

Again, he hesitated, "No, no, I just haven't been feeling quite right since..."

"Since Friday?" she suggested regretfully. "I think we've all been a little on edge."

He murmured in agreement, "I meant to call earlier. You must've been worried sick."

I still am.

"It's OK. It happens. I'm just glad it's just a cold," Lola shifted the phone to her good ear, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"That's alright. I think I just need to sleep it off."

"Well, I'm sure Roman's taking good care of you—"

"He keeps asking if I want soup."

She laughed, "—but I really wouldn't mind bringing you two dinner. That way you wouldn't even have to worry about it."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that."

"It would be my pleasure," Lola assured him, fidgeting at the phone cord. "It's no trouble, really."

"Look, Lola, I don't know if that's..."

She could hear him growing exasperated. She braced herself, determined. I know you want to be alone, but I just can't allow it. Not anymore. He hesitated, and she remembered his earlier reaction, "Unless you already had plans."

It hit its mark, and he stammered a little. When he spoke, his voice had steeled and sunk, "Not besides sleeping."

"Now, I wouldn't want to interfere with that," she laughed, "but imagine it, won't you? How nice it would be to spend some time together, just relaxing, sitting around the television with a hot cup of tea, bellies full of delicious homemade lasagna..."

"Alright, alright," he acquiesced. "Twist my arm. If you're really sure it's not too much trouble."

"Trust me. It isn't," Lola held in her sigh of relief. "It'll be nice to get to see you for more than a couple of minutes, get to talk a little bit."

"Talk?"

"Yeah," she bit her lip. He can't possibly... Lola pressed the smile back on her face, "Like friends do. We've all been through a lot lately, losing Arnold and then... I don't even know what happened Friday, I keep trying to make sense of it, but I just..."

He sighed, and she stiffened—get to the point—"And I just know that you're bearing the brunt of it. I'm worried about you, Gray."

"I'm fine. It's like I keep telling you; I'm just tired."

"I know, I know," she feigned her retreat. "Nothing a little sleep won't fix, right?" Then she struck, "I just want you to know you can talk to me. I'm here for you. No matter what happens. I'm your friend, even if you're not alright."