Lucas
Page 79

 Jay McLean

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“Me too,” Lane says, then taps on my arm. When I look back at her, she’s frowning. “She doesn’t have anyone, Luke. Her son’s in—”
“I know where he is, Lane.”
“And now her husband’s gone and I’m her only real friend.”
“You consider her a friend?”
Her gaze drops. “You know, when I spent that week in the hospital in Charlotte, she wasn’t just there to pay the bill. She stayed by my side the entire time. She never left. Not once.”
I sigh, take her hand in mine. “Babe, I want to like her. Really, I do. And I’ve tried,” I tell her truthfully. “But she knew what was going on with you, and she should’ve told someone.”
She shrugs, her eyes filling with tears. She’s quiet for a long moment. Then: “I should’ve told someone, too, Luke. But you don’t understand that fear.” A sob escapes her, breaks my heart. “That fear chokes you. Silences you. And I want so badly to find a way to explain that to you, but I can’t. And with her—I don’t need to. She knows. She’s lived in that fear for so long.”
I grab her crutches, hand them to her. “Come on.” Then I help her down a few steps and toward a waiting Mrs. Kennedy. I say, “I’m sorry for being rude earlier, Mrs. Kennedy.”
She smiles. “Vivian, please.”
“Vivian.” It’s strange—how knowing her name, saying it, separating it from the part that darkens her—changes the way I see her almost instantly. “We’re having a cookout tonight—my family and Lane’s. It won’t be anything fancy, burgers and hot dogs, but I’d like it if you came.”
She looks between Lane and me, unable to hide her uncertainty. “Thank you for the invitation, but I’m not sure that I’d be very welcome.”
“You will be,” Lane assures. “Luke’s family doesn’t just open up their home, they open up their hearts.”
 
 
LOIS
 
 
I have the greatest boyfriend in the world, and I don’t just say that because I’ve experienced both ends of the spectrum. I say it because it’s true, because there aren’t many guys around who are willing to sacrifice so much not just for me, but for his family. Who has a heart larger than the world, who spreads his love as if it’s never-ending, and maybe with him, it is. “Go long,” Luke shouts, football in his hand. The twins run farther away from him, shoving each other and laughing as they do.
“Luke’s got a good arm,” Misty says, joining the “grown-ups” and me at the table while Tom works on the grill close by. “He ever play?”

“He’s played everything and been good, too,” I tell her. “But when he started to get scouted by colleges for track, he cut out the rest and focused on that.”
“Has he made a decision about UNC yet?”
I shake my head.
Tom says, “You know Luke. He does everything in his own time.” It’s true. He does.
“All these kids are yours?” Vivian asks Tom.
“All but that one,” he says, pointing to Cameron sitting under a tree, Lucy in his arms. “I unofficially adopted him when he was fifteen. Eats all my food, takes up all my daughter’s time.”
“But they’re married now,” Dad says, doing his best not to make Vivian feel like an outsider. But it’s hard for him. I can tell. He carries a lot more hate than Luke does, he’s just a lot better at hiding it. “So now he’s Lucy’s problem.”
Tom chuckles at Dad’s comment, then levels his features. “I don’t think I could’ve asked for a better boy for my only daughter. He’s been her strength when I couldn’t be.”
Dad smiles, clinks his beer with Tom’s. “I know that feeling.”
I look over at Luke, now wrestling on the ground with Lachlan and the twins while Logan approaches, water pistol filled and aimed. Lachlan sees him, stands up, his arms crossed. He shouts, “No guns around Laney!” and swiftly takes it from Logan, throws it as far as his little arm can. My heart sinks and Logan looks over at me. “Sorry,” he mouths. I shake my head. It’s fine. And also really, really sweet. Luke’s alarm goes off on his phone sitting on the table, and I call out to him. He approaches quickly, picking up Lachlan on the way. I show him his phone and he kisses my cheek, gives Lachlan to Misty. He runs to his truck and returns a few seconds later with his backpack. Then he sits next to me, his little notepad and all my pill bottles set out in front of him. I get a napkin, place it between us while he goes through his notes, sets out my meds. I don’t take as many painkillers as I used to, but they made me groggy, unaware, and when Luke noticed, he made it his mission to take over. He places four pills, all different colors, on the napkin and slides it over to me along with a glass of water. “Wait,” he says, checks his notes again, “Yeah, it’s right. Go ahead.”
I down the pills, notice Vivian watching me, sadness, sorrow and regret unmasked in her features. “The medication you need—it’s all covered by insurance, right?”
I nod. “As long as we get them from the hospital pharmacy, it’s covered.”
“Is it a hassle for you to go there? Is there a different pharmacy that—”
“It’s no problem,” Luke cuts in, offers her a heart-stopping smile. “The service there is better anyway.”
I squeeze Vivian’s hand resting on the table. “Please don’t worry,” I say, my voice low, words only for her. “I’m doing well. I’m happy.”
“Good, Lois.” She holds back her tears. “That’s all I want.”
“And you?” I ask. “Are you happy?”
She looks around, takes in the joy that only the Preston family can bring. “I’m getting there.”
 
Later in bed, Luke massages my injured leg. “So you and Vivian got pretty close, huh?”
“Yeah, we did.”
“Even before Charlotte?” he asks. “It just seems like it was more than just a week spent in a hospital, but if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”
I watch him a moment, watch him focus on my leg and not much else, and I wonder how much to tell him, wonder which parts will be too much for him to handle. “We spent a lot of long nights cleaning each other up after…” After the Kennedy men did their damage.
Luke nods, his hands slowing, his throat bobbing with his swallow.
“But in Charlotte, it was different. We didn’t have to whisper or tip toe around our feelings. They weren’t there so we could be open about everything. I told her about you.”
He looks up now, his eyes meeting mine.
“I pretty much spent the entire week telling her about you and me, how we met, your family. It was the only thing that could cheer me up, take my mind off everything that was happening.”
“What did you tell her about me?”
“I told her that you were a man of strength and honor and sacrifice. I said that I’d been in love with you since we were eleven, since I saw you coming down your porch steps in your Superman t-shirt and your glasses. And I said that I made a mistake keeping my feelings for you a secret for so long.” A smile tugs on my lips and I try to restrain it, but I can’t. Because Luke’s looking at me in a way I spent years hoping he would—as if the world begins and ends right where our hearts connect.