Lauren's PoV
I stared at the address that was in my hands. I blinked when Chelsea nudged me as she turned down an unfamiliar road. "Never been this way?" She asked.
"Uh," I looked around the small 'town' and shook my head, "no."
"Keewatin," she let the town name roll off her tongue and shrugged, turning down another street before she approached a large white bridge, "Apparently Kenora is named after three different communities that surrounded this place."
I raised an eyebrow. She was trying to ease the tension because we were on our way towards Camila's. The sun had already set and it was only passed five.
And it was cold.
"Humour me." I replied with a soft laugh because I wanted the distraction.
"The K-E, in Kenora, stands for Keewatin," Chelsea slowed down at the end of the bridge when a train was approaching us. She took the opportunity to look at me. "N-O, stands for Norman; which is the small neighbourhood area we passed through to get here," she smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. "R-A, stands for Rat Portage, which is a First Nation Reservation that borders with the city. Actually, Kenora originally was called Rat Portage before they changed it."
"Have you been studying this place?" I asked in slight amusement.
"Gotta love 'wikipedia'." Chelsea shrugged. "Besides, you should know a little history about the town you wanted to move to years ago."
"All the history that was needed," I sighed, "was stored away for protection."
"I know this must be weird for you," Chelsea turned down a dirt road and as soon as we hit the top of the hill, I noticed an open view of 'Winnipeg River'. It was beautiful to see the lights and cabins lights lit up from across the lake. "The things that bind two people together are really something."
"What do you mean?" I turned to look at her and she just smiled a little. "Chels."
"You said it yourself last night," she nudged me, "this is fate. Maybe Dylan was supposed to end up-" she stopped mid-sentence as she turned down the right drive way. A large log-cabin like house was before us with a wraparound porch, "-here. Shit Lauren, this place is nice."
I slowly stepped out of the car when it stopped and shut my door. I took in the lights the lit up the pathway towards the door and how shoveled the snow was. A black Chevy Blazer was parked by the small garage. A hockey net was placed in the large open yard area where I could tell there were fresh footprints in the snow. As soon as I stepped up on the porch, I looked ahead and saw a worn out path go towards a dock where a boat was pulled up and covered by a tarp.
"I think Dylan really was in good hands." Chelsea squeezed my shoulder and turned me to face her. "Are you ready?"
I shook my head no.
God, this was all so much.
"Lauren?" She frowned and I shook my head again before taking off and letting out what little contents were in my stomach, by the garage door. "Oh Lauren, are you okay?" Chelsea rubbed my back and I nodded.
"Yea," I laughed a little nervously and grabbed water from my car, rinsing my mouth out before replacing it with a piece of gum. "I just needed to get that out of my system."
Chelsea laughed. "Come on girl, your daughter is behind the walls of that house probably just as nervous as you are."
I couldn't help but smile. "Aren't you coming?" I asked when Chelsea started to walk towards the car. My car.
"Oh yea," she waved a hand in the air, "I'm just going to give you like, a five minute head start," she dangled the keys in the air, "besides you have nowhere to run."
"Ha." I frowned and went back onto the porch. I wrung my hands nervously and smiled at the hand carved 'Cabello's' sign that hung from the screen door. Swallowing back the bile a little, I moved to make my hand do the very first knock.
I listened carefully.
And then I heard fast footsteps.
Silence.
The door swung open and my heart pounded in my chest wildly. I was met with vaguely familiar eyes.
I was staring back at that same smaller version of Camila Cabello.
"Hey-"
I was now staring at the door that was just opened a few seconds ago.
I was positively sure that a door was slammed in my face.
And I was positively sure I was in shock.
A little bit.
"Lucas!" I heard from behind that same door before it swung open and I was greeted with warmer eyes. "God Lo, I'm so sorry." Camila apologized and opened the screen door. "Come in."
I swallowed, trying to calm my nerves. I stepped in the warm cozy home and the smell of chicken and a hint of cinnamon filled my senses. I think the cinnamon was coming from Camila.
"I am so sorry about that," she kept saying while looking up towards a set of stairs, "I'll go talk to her."
"It's-it's okay." I finally managed to say something. "Um, really."
"No, it's not okay," Camila frowned, "she had no right to do that and I will let her know that." Then her facial expressions softened. "Make yourself at home," she looked behind me, "where's Chelsea?"
"Chelsea wanted to give me a five minute head start." I tried to smile.
I mean, I think I was smiling.
"Well," Camila cleared her throat and before she could say anything, footsteps came running down the stairs.
"I. Don't. Like you." The small brunette buzzed passed me and towards the hallway before slamming another door.
"She's never like that," Camila looked a little worried and took my coat from me. "Dylan's upstairs in her room," she finally said, "usually she has her iPod in her ears while reading so if you wanted to go and-"
"MOM?!" A screeched came from the top of stairs and I widened my eyes as Dylan practically threw herself down the steps and into my arms. She was crying heavily and I knew that I was too. "Mom, mommy, is that you?" She pulled back, her green eyes full of tears. Her small hands were cupping my face, gripping tightly.
"Yes baby," I choked out and pulled her face back into my neck, holding on for dear life, "it's really me."
I held her.
I couldn't let go.
I didn't want to let go.
"I'm just going to go check on Lucas," Camila finally whispered and left us alone.
"I missed you." Cried Dylan as we sunk to the wooden floor, hanging on tight.
"Oh God Dyl," I whispered barely, "I missed you so much."
"Mom," she pulled back and wiped her small thumbs along my face, "I really did miss you."
"I know." I nodded and pulled her back in for a hug.
We stayed there in silence for a while. I didn't even notice or hear Chelsea make her way in. She was already sitting down at one of the breakfast bar stools, helping Camila grate some cheese.
I think Dylan and I stayed close for at least ten minutes before the world started coming back to us again.
"Don't cry mommy," Dylan whispered. "It makes me cry."
"I'm sorry," I whispered and wiped her tears away, "god baby you're so beautiful." I stood up and ignored the cramps in my legs. "You've grown up so much."
Dylan twirled around and beamed a smile at me. "Lucas picked out my outfit," she twirled again in her small jeans and white sweater, "and she did my hair." She pointed to the blue barrette and I bit my lip, kissing the top of her head. "Did you want to meet her?"
I smiled sadly. Lucas didn't seem to like me.
"I'd love too," I whispered, "but maybe we should just go help Camila with dinner."
I wanted Lucas to like me. But I wasn't going to push. I couldn't exactly blame her. From what Ryn told me, Lucas and Dylan were the best of friends. I was seen as a threat to the young Cabello and as much as that hurt, I figured I'd let it play out on its own.
My eyes caught Camila's as she handed me a kleenex. "Thank you."
"Camila, this is my mommy!" Dylan beamed proudly and it made my heart flutter. The fact that Dylan showed no sign of being angry with me helped me relax a bit more. "Where's Lukey?"
I watched Camila's eyes slowly drag away from mine and to Dylan's. She knelt down at my daughter's level and tucked a curly strand behind her ear. "Lucas isn't really being good so she's in her room until dinner's ready."
Dylan frowned and shook her head. "She's never bad!"
"I know," Camila nodded and then looked up at me, "why don't you show your mom your room?"
"Yay!" Dylan clapped her hands and squeezed my hand before dragging me away from Chelsea and Camila and up winding stairs. "Look!" She pointed to a picture of me on her desk. "Camila said they sent a picture of you for me."
I got a closer look. It was an old picture from high school. It was from the Christmas formal. Camila was sneaky.
"I have one of you too," I offered Dylan and dug the worn out picture from my pocket, "see?"
Dylan grabbed it and sat back on her bed. "I miss that shirt." She pointed out and smiled, handing it back. "I grew a lot!"
"You did." I nodded in agreement and glanced around her room. It had a baby blue theme to it with posters of young celebrities on the wall. I noticed a few things that weren't hers though.
Trophies.
"Camila split them up between me and Lucas." Dylan stood beside me. "I like this one the best," I smiled as she pointed to the one trophy Camila had originally given to me after winning her last championship. I told her to keep it until we got our own place together.
She still had it.
"Camila used to be famous mom, did you know? I never said anything but I knew she looked liked that brunette hockey player that played for Team Canada. Remember mom?" Dylan bounced a bit and I could only nod. "I finished my homework," she changed the subject and grabbed my hand, showing me her tidy desk, "see?"
I sat down on the small seat and pulled Dylan on my lap. She read me over everything she wrote for her spelling. She smiled and giggled while she played with my fingers.
A knock at the door calmed us both down and Camila poked her head in the door. "I don't mean to interrupt but dinner's ready in five."
"Oh!" Dylan hopped off my lap and ran towards the brunette, hugging her leg. "You didn't set the table yet, did you?"
I watched as Camila laughed and shook her head, kissing the small head in front of her. "I wouldn't dare steal your job!"
"Bye mom! Gotta set the table." Dylan blew me a kiss and rushed away.
I stood up slowly and rubbed the back of my neck, sighing as it popped a little. "You have a really lovely home, Camila."
Camila blushed.
It was the first time she blushed and it made me smile.
"Thank you," she stepped forward, "listen, about Luc..."
"I get it." I held my hands up and shrugged. "I get doors slammed in my face all the time." I laughed a little and Camila just looked sad.
"She's not like that Lo," she sighed, "she's just upset. She's trying to wrap her brain around this whole thing and I'm surprised I still have a head attached to my shoulders."
I had to chuckle softly because I totally understood. "I know what you mean."
"Sofi uh," she cleared her throat, "she never told you about Lucas did she?"
I shook my head no. "And she never told you about Dylan," I bit my lip, "obviously."
I could tell by the way she was looking at me that she wanted answers.
As did I.
I finally got to hold my daughter in my arms.
I was happy.
But I wasn't complete.
"We'll talk," Camila read my mind and nodded, gripping the door in her hand, "about everything."
"Yea," I breathed and she just smiled, holding her hand out for me to grab. I took it. I closed my eyes as she pulled me close and I found myself wrapped up in her arms.
Oh God.
I was in Camila's arms.
She was hugging me.
"I think my cooking's improved," she teased softly when she pulled back and then she was gone again.
I smiled.
I really smiled.