Lost And Found Ch 02 5

Hi all! I'm back again with Chapter 2 of "Lost and Found," the continuation of Lila and Cameron's story that began in "Becoming His." As I mentioned in my intro notes to the first chapter, this series can be read as a standalone, though I do recommend reading "Becoming His" first for the fullest experience. You will also want to check out Chapter 1 of this series before you read this chapter, too!

Here is a link to the

"Becoming His" series page.

And here is a link to

Chapter 1 of "Lost and Found."

This chapter is still set-up oriented without any spicy bits (but has some sweetness). It opens to a flashback that takes place about six months after Lila and Cameron split up at the end of "Becoming His." I've tried to distinguish the flashback from the present timeline as clearly as possible, so hopefully it isn't confusing. I also want to thank everyone for your kind words about this story and my writing. I really, really appreciate everything that you've had to say and all the encouragement that you've given me. Anyway, enough said -- I hope you enjoy reading Chapter 2!

***

DECEMBER -- SIXTEEN MONTHS EARLIER

"Lila, come out! Come out

now

!"

Miranda's voice pressed high and thin over the bathroom stall. Lila froze where she was fidgeting with the zipper of her dress. It was a short dress. And it was sequined. That made it one thing she hadn't thought she'd ever be caught dead in, until her mother had pressed it on her during an excursion to Nordstrom.

The occasion: shopping for the annual Schar and Elmhurst Christmas party.

"Your father and I didn't bring you here to have you spend the entire evening in the bathroom! Get out this instant, young lady!" her mother screeched.

Lila gave the zipper a firm tug. It came free from a sequin, which came free from the dress. For a moment, it hovered in the air, a shimmering crimson disc, before plummeting down to the tiled floor. Lila pushed the stall door open.

"Jesus, Mom," she said hotly. "He's not my father. And look, here I am."

"He's your father tonight. Now let's go."

Her mother's hand clamped down on her arm, threatening to cut off her circulation.

"Wait, Mom, I haven't even washed my hands!"

"Oh, who gives a shit," her mother muttered. "You invited Jonas Keaton and left that poor boy to fend for himself for half the evening. How do you think he feels? And you've made me run around chasing you from bathroom to bathroom. How do you think I feel? Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself?"

"I don't know, Mom, maybe! I told you I didn't want to come to this stupid party. I told you -- "

"Is everything all right, Miranda?"

The voice stopped Lila dead in her tracks. She froze where she stood, her mouth hanging open, because the reason she hadn't wanted to come to the Christmas party had materialized in front of her and her mother in a gray suit. He wasn't looking at her, though. He was intent on Miranda, who was blabbering on and on about how disrespectful Lila was being and the

nerve

of the girl and what the hell had gotten into her, anyway?

Cameron's stormy eyes flicked over to rest on Lila's face for a split second, though it felt like an eternity.

"Why don't I keep her company for a couple moments, while you run off and get yourself a drink?" he asked.

"Oh,

please

. How will I ever thank you?" Miranda gushed. She released his arm with a parting squeeze and slipped off, leaving Lila alone with Cameron a couple feet from a glittering red-and-gold Christmas tree.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, looking down at her.

She said nothing. He let out a huff of breath. Then his hand had clamped down on her arm, and he was pulling her down the hall at breakneck pace, away from the sounds of the party. She struggled weakly, to no avail. A door clattered open. She found herself backed against a wall in the dark, his shape looming over her.

"We have to talk, Lila," he said. She didn't think she missed the desperation in his voice. "You need to talk to me. Why haven't you replied to any of my texts or taken any of my calls?"

She said nothing, folding her arms across her chest. She had been brought here against her will. Damn him if he thought she'd say anything.

He paced back and forth in front of her, raking a hand through his hair -- his perpetual sign of consternation. He seemed dismayed. For a moment, she let herself revel in the surge of power that rose out of her stomach. She had done this to this man.

She

.

Her mother's voice rang through her head.

Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself?

"Lila." Cameron turned back to her, his voice supplicating. He sounded like he had on the last night, at the end of everything, months before. She couldn't believe she was here, and he was there, and they were standing across from each other. A part of her, a terrible, treacherous part of her, still wanted to run to him on flying feet and throw herself into his arms. But she held herself fast. She would not give in. Not to this man. Not after everything.

"I'm starting college in a few weeks," she said. Her voice came out surprisingly level, wavering only once. "I suppose you can tell Claire. Though she's already won your bet. Maybe not in spirit, but you know what I mean. She didn't think I'm good enough for you. And she was right."

"Lila, you're talking nonsense," he said angrily. He slapped the switch by the door, and the lights popped on, blinding them both in their brilliance. They were standing in a small conference room, she still against the wall by the door, he pacing back and forth in front of the table. "There was no bet. And as for Claire, we haven't been talking very often anymore. She ruined this for me."

"You ruined this for yourself, Cameron."

"Please tell me exactly how I ruined anything," he said. He sounded angry, and he was coming nearer. "Do you think I wanted to do things this way? Practically abduct you from the company Christmas party? You gave me no other choice! For months I've been in agony. No comfort, no closure, nothing. You can't slam the door like that, Lila!"

"I can, and I have, and I will," Lila said. She leveled her chin at him. "We're not right for each other. For one, you're much too old for me."

"And you like boys your own age?" he scoffed at her. "As if you ever could. They have the mental age of a mosquito compared to you and everything you've been through. No one else will ever understand you as well as I do."

"Don't tell me that!" she screamed, suddenly falling off the rails that had previously held her in place. "Don't tell me that! Don't..."

She stood still, quivering, while he stared at her, his eyes shocked. After a moment, she was the one to drop her head. The tears came all at once, following on the heels of blind rage. She swiped angrily at her eyes, but still they came, running down her cheeks, and she couldn't stop them.

"Leave me with some hope," she said, resting her head against the wall. She felt tired, so tired.

"Enjoy college," he said. He had begun to move past her for the door. "I'm sorry I tried. I won't try again."

He went coldly, all of his previous agitation gone, and she found herself believing him. The door clicked shut behind him. It was not swinging. He had left it swinging before, metaphorically so, but it swung no longer. Whatever closure he had needed, she had given to him, leaving nothing for herself. She sank down to the base of the wall and cried and cried alone in the dark.

***

MAY -- PRESENT

On Saturday morning, Lila woke at the crack of dawn from a night of half-remembered dreams to a dry mouth a splitting headache.

Luckily, after a year of college life with Tori, who was still a party animal at heart, she had mastered her hangover routine. She dragged herself out of bed, rising with the birds. That was essential; there was no use putting off the inevitable. In the bathroom, she drank no fewer than five glasses of water in quick succession before brushing her teeth, combing her hair, and applying her usual sunscreen. Then to the kitchen, where she clattered around with pots and pans until Tori came into the arched doorway, her hair mussed and her eyes bleary from sleep.

"Someone's up early," she said, her expression glum. "Why'd you have to wake me?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to." Lila cracked three eggs into a bowl. "Scrambled?"

"Please." Tori stepped in to lean against a counter. "You okay? After yesterday, I mean."

"I'm fine. Still thinking."

One eyebrow arched in her direction.

"Well, you have a lot to think about," Tori said. She went to the fridge. "Mimosa?"

"No can do, I'm volunteering this morning. Soup kitchen, remember? You can tag along if you'd like."

"Hell no, I've got admin stuff to take care of. Namely, scheduling a makeup meeting with Mr. Jacob Finnegan." Tori rolled her blue eyes to heaven, pulling the orange juice out of the fridge, followed by the bottle of champagne they'd nearly finished the day before. "Actually, he reached out yesterday evening. He sounds

very

excited to meet me. You really must've worked your charms on Cameron."

"Well, they are friends," Lila said stiffly. She watched Tori slosh champagne into a glass. "I'll have a virgin mimosa."

"One virgin mimosa, coming up," Tori said. She paused, her hand on the bottle of orange juice. "Thank you, Lila. Really. I know you think the meeting was useless, but I think it did a lot to move us in the right direction."

"He shouldn't do it for me," Lila said. She stared down at the eggs she had just tipped into a frying pan with some butter. "I told him he shouldn't do it for me. He claimed he wasn't. He said that the idea was compelling."

"And who says it isn't?" Tori raised her glass, sliding Lila's across the counter to her. "Cheers, baby. We're on the up and up. Jesus, my head hurts!"

"Cheers," Lila said, but she didn't feel very cheery on the inside.

A bottle of Aspirin followed the clink of glasses: two tablets for each of them. Lila washed down her orange juice with more water. Water, water, water. That was the crux of the argument when it came to her hangover routine. Water, and scrambled eggs on toast with Tabasco and a side of dill pickles. It was the cure. By the time her mother texted her to remind her about her impending volunteer session, her headache was significantly improved, though her mood remained low.

"Sayonara," Tori said from the kitchen table as Lila threw on a cardigan and gathered her phone and keys at the door. "I'll make lunch."

"For yourself. I'll eat there," Lila said.

"You taking the Jeep?" Tori called after her.

"Nope, my mom decided to chance the drive and pick me up."

In the anteroom, she listened briefly to the upstairs neighbor's dog whining at the door before pushing the screener open and stepping out. It was a beautiful morning. A little rain had fallen the night before, wetting the pavement, but the line of clouds that had brought it had since scuttled across the sky away to the west, where they lay now in a pale purple bank on the distant horizon. Lila lowered herself down onto the top step of the stoop. How stupid had she been the day before to think that Cameron had orchestrated a meeting between them? It was almost like wishful thinking, and he would surely read between her lines and see that. She ought to be ashamed of herself. He'd told her he wouldn't try again, and he was a man who tended to mean what he said.

Still, she found herself wondering whether the doors had been left swinging once more, and whether she herself had had some hand in that. She felt that things were revolving, thrown off balance by their chance encounter. The scales of fate were weighing the price. Fate? She didn't believe in fate, or at least didn't like to.

It was only a few minutes before her mother's Chevrolet Suburban pulled up on the curb. Miranda leaned across the passenger seat to peer out the open window at Lila.

"Looking good, Mom," Lila said, clambering in. She hadn't seen her mother in almost a month, not since a few notable happenings: Miranda's discovery that Robert had been engaging in a covert emotional affair with a younger coworker, followed by a real redoubling of her efforts at the gym. She'd been hard at work with Reese, her personal trainer, and it was paying off. Lila half-suspected that something physical had begun between the two of them, too.

"Thanks, hon." Her mother leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, piloting the Suburban away from the curb. She seemed placid that morning, and that was a welcome respite from the usual Miranda. "Look at me, I'm behind the wheel again. I took Reese out for coffee after our workout on Thursday, and he was very encouraging about my driving. So I thought I'd come get you this morning."

"Good, Mom, I'm glad." Lila buckled herself in and drew a long breath of fresh spring air from the window before turning back to her mother. "Guess who I saw yesterday."

"Jonas Keaton?" Miranda squealed.

"No," Lila said, mildly annoyed. "Tori sent me to Schar and Elmhurst to meet Robert's boss."

"Oh, so you saw Jake."

"No, he had to go away on business, last minute." Her heart thumped against her chest. "I saw Cameron. Cameron Winthrop."

"Oh,

Cameron

!" Her mother laughed. "Whatever happened to him? Your stepfather was cultivating a real friendship with that man, then he just dropped right off the face of the earth. Of course, Robert got the money he needed from him, so all's well that ends well, but still. He was nice to have around. Charming. Easy on the eyes. And he really did you a good turn, teaching you how to drive like he did."

"

I

taught myself how to drive, Mom. Tori helped."

"Yes, but Cameron started it. Without him, you might never have gotten behind the wheel in the first place. Man, oh, man." Miranda sighed. "Actually, I think he went away for some time. London, I think. I remember Robert mentioning it. It must've been for a few months at least. But I suppose he's back now."

They lapsed into silence. Lila stared out the window, partially dismayed. She couldn't write this man out of her life, no matter how hard she tried. Wherever she turned, there he was again, following her around like a catchy tune with bad lyrics.

Eight minutes later, her mother pulled up outside the church that housed the soup kitchen. Little had changed in the two years that separated Lila from the day Cameron had accompanied her there. She got out and was about to follow her mother in through the usual side door when she saw the figure standing on the church steps, its back to her. Still, she stopped. There was something familiar about it.

Then the woman turned, and her eyes fell on Lila across the front yard that separated them, and she waved. Lila knew her then, and her heart leapt. It was June, the woman who had once frequented the soup kitchen with her son Anthony. But Lila hadn't seen them for at least a year.

"I'll be right in, Mom," she called after her mother.

She made her way across the grass to June, who had come to the edge. They met and embraced. Lila noticed the changes in the older woman right away. Her hair was neatly pulled back, her nails manicured, her coat new, and her elbows and collarbones no longer showed painful, bony angles. June held her at arm's length, beaming.

"You look so good, Lila!"

"So do you," Lila said. She was still getting over her surprise. "You look amazing! Where have you been? Where's Anthony?"

"Anthony's well. Let me show you some pictures, he's gotten so big. And he talks now, really talks." Glowing, June showed Lila a few snapshots on her phone. "He would've loved to come and see you, sweetheart, but it's a bit of a drive."

"It's okay. My gosh, he's a little grown-up monster now," Lila breathed. "That's wonderful. Where are you now? What's happened? Tell me everything."

"I got a job, and my cousin's been watching Anthony for me most days. She has a little one of her own, so it works out. But that's not all, of course." Tears welled up in June's eyes, and she clasped Lila's hands in her own. "I have to thank you for everything.

Everything

. When he fixed us up in that boardinghouse, that was the real turning point. It saved us. Gave us a chance to get afloat."

"What?" Lila asked, shocked. She frowned, extricating her hands from June's. "I'm sorry. I haven't done anything."

"Oh, you didn't know?" June drew back, her face momentarily troubled. Then she leaned in again, taking Lila's hands once more. "It was a little before Christmas, not this past Christmas, but the Christmas prior. He showed up at the women's shelter out of the blue, asking for me. I'm talking about Cameron, your Cameron."

She looked deeply into Lila's eyes, perhaps gauging a reaction. Lila took a deep breath. Cameron, her Cameron. Of course. Who else?

"Well, he was looking fine in a suit and all that, as you can probably imagine," June went on. "I thought he was there to give me more money, and I was fixing to turn him down, but instead he gave me the best news of my life. We've been living in a boardinghouse near Fall River. He knows the landlady on accounts that he lived there in his younger years. That man may have everything now, but he's had a troubled past, Lila. Anyway, he said he would give you the address so you could visit, but you never showed. I figured something must've been lost in translation, so here I am, on my feet. We've lined up an apartment for next month, so I thought I would come to pass along that address, in case you wanted to stay in touch. And I wanted to ask you to thank Cameron for me. He wouldn't leave any number or anything of the like with me. I tried to call him at his place of work once or twice, but I only ever got secretaries who wouldn't take non-business calls. So thank him for me.

Kiss

him for me. He ought to know what a good turn he dealt us. And you ought to know how much he loves you."

"Oh, June, I don't know." Lila's breath caught in her throat. Uninvited tears sprang to her eyes, and she clung to the older woman's hands. "We're not together, actually. We haven't been for almost two years. I -- we -- It just didn't work out."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry, I didn't know." June's eyes filled with something like regret. "I didn't want to cause you pain."

"No, it's not you." Lila hugged her friend again. "I'm so happy to see you. I'm glad you came. And I'm glad you told me. I -- I'll call him and thank him for you."

"You don't have to. But I would appreciate it."

"I will." Her heart pounded. The twisted workings of fate? The arrival of an excuse to call Cameron was the best-worst thing that had ever happened to her. Hyperbole, but only

just

. She linked her arm through June's. "Will you come up with me? I'm sure all the others would be happy to see you too."

"I'll walk you to the door, Lila, but you should know that you're the only person there who ever took any real notice of me," June said, giving Lila's arm a squeeze.

They went slowly across the lawn, past the spring flowers popping up at the margins. At the door they parted, hugging once more before bidding each other goodbye. Lila went inside and upstairs, but she was going through the motions. Her thoughts had fled elsewhere, to a phone call she looked forward to with mixed dread and breathless anticipation. She knew only that this was not her choice any longer; this needed to be addressed, if the chapter in her past was ever to be closed and a new one opened.

Later that afternoon, hours after she'd gotten home from the soup kitchen, she sat on the swinging bench in the backyard beneath the spreading maple, her phone in her hands.