Just a Little Series (Parts 1 - 4) (19 page)

“Mistake?” I asked, meeting his gaze again.
“What mistake?”

“Julie,” he laughed nervously. “I don’t
remember telling you that I loved you.” His humiliation grew
increasingly apparent in his expression. “I don’t remember standing
on your porch, holding you, and spilling my guts.”

“You don’t believe it happened?”

“I know it did,” he said, “because I know… I
know
what alcohol can do to people, especially people in
my
family. And I should’ve known better than to think I was
an exception to the rule. But please understand, I was never angry
with you. I
hated
myself for slipping up. I never wanted you
to hear those things like that—”

“I’m not sorry you said what you said,
Luke,” I ran my fingers through the side of his hair.

“But I’m sorry that it happened the way it
did,” he said. “It shouldn’t have. You deserved so much more.”

“Luke,” I said, “we all make mistakes. We
all do things we shouldn’t do, but that’s part of life. It’s
okay.”

“It’s not okay, Julie,” he said, and his
expression told me that he meant exactly what he’d said. “After Mom
died, Lonnie started drinking. At first, it was a casual drink in
the evening to hide the sorrow. But then the pain found its way to
the surface, and one drink wasn’t enough. So he’d drink another,
then another, and then five or six more.” Luke’s eyes glossed over,
but he managed to keep even a single tear from spilling out. “He’d
do things—
awful things
—when he drank. Things…things that he
wouldn’t remember doing when he was sober.”

I ran my thumb across the scar above his
lip. “Did he do this?”

Luke didn’t answer. He didn’t say a word; he
didn’t nod, shrug, or change his expression. He simply took a deep
breath and pressed a kiss to my head.

“Under the influence,” Luke said, “Reibeck
men do stupid things.”

“You’d never hurt me, Luke,” I still felt
the tingle of his lips on my skin. “I know that.”

“I do, too,” he said. “I’d
never
hurt
you, Julie. Because after I made a fool of myself at the poker
game, it’s safe to say those days are behind me. You’ll never see
that side of me again. That’s a promise.”

“Is that why you didn’t go to the wedding?”
I asked. “Because Lonnie hurt you, and you haven’t forgiven
him?”

“In many ways, yes,” he said. “I moved out
after high school, struggled to make it through college on my own.
And those weren’t easy years. I spent every second of that time
blaming my father for taking away my dignity; I had no sense of
self-worth, Julie. None.”

“But you do now,” I said, “and that’s all
that matters—”

“My life changed when I got out of the
academy,” he said. “Your Uncle Charlie gave me a job. He respected
me, treated me with kindness, and honored my opinion. It was
because of
him
that I finally got back on track again; I was
finally focused for the first time in years. But I
still
carry a chip on my shoulder. I
still
resent my father for
everything that happened.”

“So,” I watched him closely. “Your father is
angry because, after all the changes he’s made—sobering up and
getting his life together—you still haven’t forgiven him?”

“He’s angry with me because he doesn’t
understand,” Luke said. “He doesn’t know why I left in such a
hurry, why I never came home, or why I shut him out.”

“How can he
not
understand?” I asked.
“He
literally
scarred you for life.”

“That’s just the thing, Julie. He doesn’t
remember hurting me. I just walked away; I didn’t feel like he
deserved an explanation.”

“Do you regret that now?”

“I do,” he said, “but there’s nothing I can
say. I certainly can’t call him up and say
hey dad, sorry I’ve
been an ass for five years, wanna grab a bite
?”

“Have you ever thought of telling him the
truth?” I asked. “That always seems like a good place to
start.”

“I’ve thought about it,” he said. “But then
I have to consider… who am I doing that for? Me or him? It’s
selfish. Telling him that he beat me to a pulp one night six years
ago isn’t going to do anything but hurt him.”

“So you’d let him go on hating you and never
knowing the truth?”

“He thinks he knows the truth,” Luke said.
“He thinks I resent Grace because she’s not my mother, and that’s
okay. It’s better that way.”

“Better for…?” I asked. “It’s not better for
you
.”

“But it’s better for him and Grace. They’re
happy, Julie.”

The song came to an end, but Luke didn’t
pull away. He rubbed his nose against mine and rested our heads
together.

“I need you to know how sorry I am,” he
said, just above a whisper. “For everything. You should’ve bailed a
long time ago, but you didn’t. I’ll never understand why.”

“Because I loved you, Luke,” I said,
matching his whisper. “I loved you all along…I still do.”

He nodded, but he didn’t return the
sentiment.

“I need to fix things with my father,
Julie,” he said. “I need to fix it without telling him the truth,
and that’s going to take time. We’re a stubborn bunch; he’s not
going to forgive me easily. And that’s why I’ve kept my distance,
kid. I can’t move on to the next stage of my life; I can’t start
something new until I’ve fixed the things that are broken.”

I swallowed hard and watched as his eyes
softened. He didn’t have to say anything else. He’d said it all
with a simple stare. He needed my patience, my understanding, and
some time. And because I loved him, I wanted nothing more than to
give him everything he needed.

“Take your time, Luke,” I held him tighter.
“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

Just a Little Series | Part
4

CHAPTER ONE

Friday, December 14

“I’m not a villain,” Charlie grumbled,
throwing his coffee mug into the sink a little too hard. He turned
to my cousin for confirmation, “Right?”

“Leave me outta this, Dad,” Matt snapped the
lid on a piece of Tupperware. He secured our leftovers in the
refrigerator and turned back to the counter never once looking at
me or Charlie.

I sat at the table, pushing my asparagus
around with the fork. Charlie, who’d cleaned his plate nearly
fifteen minutes ago, was now leaning against the counter.

“Julie,” Charlie dropped his head, “I’m
sorry, but the answer is no.”

“But—”

“No,” he said, refusing to hear my argument
before I had time to make it.

“Why?” I prompted him to give me an
explanation though I already knew
exactly
why.

He didn’t think I was privy to the
conversation he’d had with Luke last month, but because of my super
ability to eavesdrop at any given moment, I knew all I needed to.
And Charlie had been bending over backward to keep me from leaving
the house alone. He wouldn’t let me step foot near the police
station. I was on an imaginary leash, and he refused to tell me
why.

If I hadn’t heard the conversation with my
own two ears, if I didn’t know what Luke had admitted to my uncle,
I’d be irate by Charlie’s overbearing behavior. But in a way—a very
little
way—I found some humor in it. Charlie didn’t want me
within a one-mile radius of Luke, and he made sure he did
everything could to keep us apart.

“Because I said so, that’s why.”

“It’s coffee!” I yelled, throwing my arms in
the air. “One cup of coffee with a friend—”

“Who?” he asked, convinced he already knew
the answer.

“Does it matter?”

“It does if you want to leave this house,”
he said. “
Who
?” I crossed my arms and slumped lower in the
chair. “Is it a friend from school?”

“Ugh! What’s going on here?” I asked.
“You’ve been keeping me under a microscope for weeks! You don’t
have to know every minute detail of what’s going on in my life.” I
looked at my cousin. “Why don’t you hound Matt every time
he
asks to go out?”

“Because I trust Matt—”

“You don’t trust
me
?” I straightened
up. I threaded my fingers together and rested my elbows on the
table. “Charlie, I’ve never given you a reason to think I can’t be
trusted. When I first moved here you let me do anything and
everything
I wanted to do, no questions asked. What’s
changed?”

He knitted his eyebrows together. He knew I
was right; I hadn’t done anything—not once—to make him think I was
untrustworthy. But the fear of me sneaking away to see Luke was
more than he could swallow.

“For one,” he combed his fingers through his
mustache, “you never used to keep secrets.”

“I’m not keeping secrets
now
.”

“Who are you having coffee with?”

“Grace Reibeck,” I said, seeing Matt perk up
with sudden interest. He knew as well as I did that mentioning the
name
Reibeck
meant I was walking on thin ice.

“What business do you have with Grace?”
Charlie folded his arms across his chest.

“It’s two-fold, really,” I worked out my
explanation just as I’d rehearsed it earlier in my room. “One, she
and Lonnie own the only flower shop in town.”

“And that’s important because…?”

“I joined the Oakland Celebration Committee
last month,” I said. “After designing the Fall Ball, I realized I
have a bit of a knack for party planning
and
party
execution. With some time, a budget, and a place to work, I can
come up with just about anything for any occasion.”

“Not following, Julie,” Charlie said,
“narrow your scope.”

“I wanted to get involved,” I said. “You’re
always preaching about how important it is for kids to stay active
in the community. Take your job-shadowing program, for instance.
You wanted us to figure out what we wanted to do post-graduation.
You wanted us to be proactive. Well, I’m being proactive. I found
something I like to do. I’m sticking to my guns. The Fall Ball was
great, but it was small potatoes compared to what I’m doing
now.”

“Which is?”

“Managing the Oakland Holiday Parade,” I
said, “which brings me back to Grace. She’s going to cut me a deal
on flowers for the floats. I need flowers, and lots of 'em. Grace
is my go-to gal.”

“This isn’t the Rose Bowl, for God’s sake,”
he mumbled, burying his head in the palm of his hands. “What’s the
other reason?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you wanted to meet with Grace for
two reasons,” he said. “What’s the other?”

“Right!” I clapped my hands together once.
“Glad you asked. She’s the middle man between me and the Grand
Marshal.”

“What’s that now?” he asked so quickly that
his words sounded like one long slur.

“The Grand Marshal,” I said, “the parade
honoree, they ride through the line first, leading the rest of the
floats along the route.” Charlie’s mouth hung open, so I
elaborated. “The Grand Marshal is an outstanding member of the
community that is deserving of an award or recognition of some
kind—”

“I know
what
the Grand Marshal is,”
he said. “I just don’t know
who
it is.”

“Luke,” I watched his face turn a dark shade
of crimson.

“Luke?”

It was strange to hear his name cross
Charlie’s lips. I’d gotten so used to hearing him, Matt, and
everyone else we knew call him
Trigger
. To hear Charlie
refer to him by name… well, it told me just how quickly the dynamic
of their relationship had changed. It was no longer rainbows and
butterflies or beer and poker nights. Their friendship ceased to
exist the night Luke opened his heart to my uncle.

“He was nominated by the committee and voted
into the position last week,” I said. “I wanted to do a flashback
kinda thing with his float: old pictures, mementos from his past,
and really celebrate who he is. Grace is gonna try to dig some of
that up for me. When it comes right down to it, we just want to
give him the best float possible. After all, it
is
Luke.”

“Aren’t they s’pose to just ride in on a car
or something?” Charlie tried to keep his voice calm and
unsuspecting. “Why a float?”

“Change of management, Charlie. We’re doing
things different this year,” I said. “Grace is my right-hand man,
and she agrees it’s time for change. And,” I said, looking at my
watch, “she’ll be here any second to pick me up, so if you’re not
going to let me go… you’ll have to tell her yourself. We’ve had
these plans for weeks. She won’t be happy if I cancel.”

Right on cue, the doorbell rang. We all knew
it was Grace, but the real question was whether or not Charlie
would let me walk out the door with her.

“Julie,” Charlie said as I jumped from my
chair and sprinted for the door.