Wild Man Creek
Page 13

“The lifestyle change must be so hard for you.”
“You have no idea,” he said. “If it’s not bad enough that I’m starting over, I’m forty with a sketchy record of rehab and other stuff, and a whole crop of twenty-five-year-old hotshots ready to fill my slot. Now look, I’m not going to go off the deep end. I’m not going to complain or take drugs or drink myself into a blind stupor, but if Luke doesn’t stop riding me and taking my temperature all the time, I might just go completely crazy. Or deck him. Or move. After all—most of this is his fault.”
Shelby sat up a bit straighter. “Luke’s fault?”
“I struggled to keep up with him my whole life. I admired him so much, I watched every move he made. But I wanted to be a helicopter pilot from the first time I saw one banking across the sky. Then Luke stumbled into a chopper pilot slot in the Army and made it look fun and easy. He made it look like it was his idea. For me, it was way more than that.” He leaned toward her. “Shelby, it was the best thing I ever did in my life. It became my passion, my lover, my best friend. I know Luke hates this, but I was good. I was a natural. If Luke was good, and he was, then I was incredible. That machine was made for me. I love flying.”
“Luke said your first words when you became conscious after the wreck were that you were going to fly again.”
“I wasn’t able to pull that off,” he said.
“I’m not sure you have to give it up,” Shelby said. “Maybe for a while, while you heal body and soul, but not forever. Let’s not fall off that bridge yet.”
“Aw, skip it. There are plenty of ex-Army chopper pilots out there looking for work, Shelby. Shake a tree and ten of ’em fall out.”
“So? Then?”
“Down the road I might find a flying job of some kind that’s a little out there—something the average family man wouldn’t take. To and from oil rigs, wilderness stuff, I don’t know. That’s in the future. Right now I’m going to see how it works to paint for a while. I don’t hate it. I never hated it. My mom and all my high school teachers wanted me to go to college and study art, but art was just too tame for me. But now I’m a little slower, so… I just don’t know if it’s going to be enough. The reason I came up here instead of going to Montgomery where Sean lives or Chico where Aiden is—there’s some wildlife here. I need a little more time to get stronger. I’m working with some weights. I’m making an effort. But this isn’t permanent, me being here. This is temporary.”
“We know that.”
“I’ll visit more often than I have in the past,” he said. “That little guy, I think he needs me to offset his father….”
“Be nice now,” Shelby said with a smile. “That’s the man I love.”
“Imagine,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t know how he caught you.”
Shelby stood. “I caught him. He fought me all the way.”
Colin stood. “See? He’s an inferior being.”
“Now that I know you’re fine, even if you are missing a good dinner, I’m taking off.”
“Tell him what we talked about. Tell him I’m sorry I lost it. I don’t hate him. I just need him to give me space.”
She looked over her shoulder at Colin. “I’ll tell him what we talked about. You tell him you’re sorry and what you need. You’re grown-up men. By now you should be able to do this.”
“We can’t ever seem to get there,” Colin said.
“Try harder,” she suggested.
“Did you give Luke this lecture?” Colin asked.
“Not this one,” she said. “He didn’t get the gentle one.” And then she was out the door.
An hour later there was a knock at the cabin door and Colin swore. He yanked open the door and Luke was standing there, a brown paper bag in his hand. “I hope we’re about done with the Luke and Shelby show now,” Colin said.
Luke didn’t respond to that. He said, “Shelby’s not that much of a cook…. Don’t tell her I said that, either. But she’s got a few things she never screws up, like this meat loaf. It’s Preacher’s recipe, I think. You wouldn’t want to miss it.”
“I already had something to eat,” Colin lied.
“Put it in the refrigerator for tomorrow night. And I’m going to stay out of your business.”
Colin lifted a brow. “Was that an apology?”
“Nope. I don’t think I’m up to that yet because, although I take some responsibility, you are a huge pain in the ass. Here,” he said, pushing the bag toward him.
Colin took the bag. “She chewed your ass, didn’t she?”
Luke shook his head. “Worse. She cried.”
“Shelby cried?” Colin asked. “Aw, Jesus. Come in here.”
“I don’t feel like it. You didn’t make her cry. I did. And I’m not going to ever do that again. I really can’t take it when she’s unhappy. I know that makes me just a real wimp in your very manly eyes, but that woman…” He shrugged lamely. “My life was pretty much an empty barrel till she came along and slapped me into shape. So there—now you know I’m not tough….”
“What the hell did you say to make her cry?” Colin asked a bit meanly.
“It wasn’t what I said to her, you idiot. It’s what I said to you!”
Colin shook his head. “I’m a little lost here, pal.”
“Yeah, because you’re not that bright. We had yet another argument, me and you, and right after Shelby told me I was a stupid ass**le, she said if I do one more thing to alienate you or cause you to move away before you plan to, I was going to be pretty hard to forgive.”
“Then she cried?” Colin asked.
Luke shook his head. “She said she didn’t give a flying f**k how I felt about you or how you felt about me, but she loves you. And yes, sweet little Shelby did so say flying f**k. And she loves you and Brett loves you and she wants you in our lives and I’d better make it right with you or she was never going to forgive me.”
Colin was completely stunned for a second. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine Shelby yelling at Luke, giving him the business. It wasn’t hard to imagine her getting downright pissed because the boys were fighting again; women got sick of that fast, witness their mother. But loving him? Bringing into focus that Brett loved him? They all loved him? When he was singularly unlovable? How was that possible?
“I’m assuming she means she loves you like a brother,” Luke said. “That better be it, too, or the fighting’s just begun.”
Colin broke into a grin in spite of himself. “And then so has the crying, I guess.”
“Go ahead and joke, but she’s a good woman. Too good for me, that’s for sure. I have to really scramble to stay good enough for her, but it’s a job I’m up to. So eat the goddamn meat loaf, come to dinner next week or sooner and I’ll stay out of your business.”
“Done,” Colin said.
“Done,” Luke said, putting out a hand.
Colin shook the hand. “Thanks for the meat loaf. It’ll be great tomorrow night.”
“You’re welcome,” Luke said. He turned to go.
“Luke,” Colin called. Luke turned around. “Tell her we kissed and made up and that we won’t make her cry anymore.”
“I plan to.” And with that, he left.
Colin closed the door, but this time he locked it. He was done with this complicated family bullshit for the night. Just being part of the Riordan clan was a contact sport.
He put the bag on the table and removed the little plastic containers that were inside—meat loaf, mashed potatoes, peas, gravy. He got a plate out and dished himself a healthy portion of each item. There was more than enough for two nights. He dug in appreciatively; Luke was right about this—it was excellent. He was also right about Shelby not being a great cook, but she was good enough. And she had qualities that were way more important than being good in the kitchen.
He shoveled the food into his mouth. They loved him? He knew they accepted him; he knew Brett had kind of taken to him. He just never thought there was a possibility Shelby cared deeply enough to threaten her marriage with tears and ultimatums and fights over wanting him to be around. She must be pretty sure of Luke’s commitment to do that. Oh—it was only family love, not romantic. He’d never had a single romantic thought about her; it just didn’t compute, not with her being so wildly in love with Luke and all. And vice versa.
He’d had a girl or two wildly in love with him, as a matter of fact. But he’d never met a girl he felt the same way about. Never met a woman he felt so strongly about he’d do anything to make her happy.
Suddenly and without much warning, he felt satisfied, and not because of the meat loaf. He got all emotional inside and thought, it’s the damn wreck, the pills and flirtation with depression—he’d never been like that before. He wasn’t that easy to touch.
But he was completely and deeply touched. Maybe in all those years that the helicopter was his lover there had been a hole inside that needed to be filled by actual human beings. People who would take a risk, a chance, a bet that he would come through, that he was worth it.
Yup, he definitely felt a gap he couldn’t fill with adventure or challenge or pure recklessness. He could feel it; there was a yearning.
A tear ran down his cheek, and he didn’t brush it away. And he wasn’t sure why not.
It wasn’t spoken of again. Colin had dinner with Luke and his family a few days later. He rolled around on the floor with Brett, though he still couldn’t lift the hefty baby boy over his head with his left arm. He looked at Luke’s plans for a small, four-port RV hookup station behind the house and cabins. He’d hired an electrician and plumber; there would be some digging for waste disposal, a separate waterline for potable water hookup, a new electrical unit installed, some concrete poured and a little landscaping to finish it off. Each hookup port would have a small patio surrounded by shrubs and flowers and a community path to the river. Ultimately, in addition to his cabins, Luke would have hookup facilities for those who vacationed in motor coaches, including his mother and George.
Colin considered it a successful evening—no arguing with Luke—and he was ready to say good-night. He thanked Shelby for a fantastic dinner with a sweet kiss on her cheek.
A few days later Colin went into Jack’s Bar and discovered Luke taking a beer break at the same time. It was fated. They didn’t sit together but were at right angles to one another up at the bar. Colin thought about ordering a cola, but he was ready for his weekly beer and he was damn well having it.
Luke raised his own brew in a toast and burning there in Luke’s eyes were the questions—how many? How long? Should we talk about this? Are we in a crisis? But to his credit, Luke said nothing. Colin knew that took a lot of willpower. When Luke stood to leave Colin waved him over, threw him a bone for the sake of peace. “I’m only having one beer and I’m staying for dinner, but tell Shelby we talked and we’re good.”
“I’ll do that.”
The day after dawned bright; the sun was coming up earlier as spring marched across the land. Colin went out looking for wildlife and late in the morning he drove to the Victorian house the old way, past the farms and vineyards, up the side of the mountain, until he got to that back pasture he’d discovered a couple of weeks ago. But it had changed—the road, nothing more than graded dirt was now covered in fine gravel. Passing through the trees Colin saw there was a small greenhouse erected, with the frame up for a second. The Plexiglas panels were lying on the ground beside it.