This Loving Feeling (A Mirror Lake Novel) (22 page)

“Olivia’s got a book deadline so I’ll be quick,” Brad said.

“Maybe I can save you the trouble. I care a lot about Sam. I’ve matured. I’m not going to up and leave like I did six years ago.” Lukas shifted his weight in the chair. Folded his hand loosely in front of his body. Made sure to keep his posture easy and relaxed although his stomach felt like it was lined with a bed of nails. Brad had intimidated him once, a long time ago, when he was little more than a kid. But that kid had grown up to be a man.

“If you knew what was best for my sister, you would.”

“That line worked on me six years ago, but come on already.” Lukas kept his voice calm and level. He was no longer the impulsive rebel, the magnet for trouble, but rather a businessman, a recording industry entrepreneur who’d achieved success through hard work and persistence.

“Look, Lukas, it’s a little shocking to have Sam call it off with Harris and take up with you and, as her brother, I want to be clear we both understand each other.”

Lukas thought of Harris, with his vanity and his untouchable car and his Supreme Court Justice pedigree. There’d been a time when Lukas believed a guy like Harris
was
better for Sam, but that had cost him precious years away from her and now he knew better. He’d seen what was underneath the status and class and it hadn’t impressed him. He knew that Sam was no longer in love with Harris. But it appeared maybe Brad still was.

“What’s your plan with my sister?”

“I was hoping she’d join me and Stevie on the road.” Even as he said it, a weird feeling churned his stomach. It seemed wrong, as it had every single time he’d thought about it over the past few weeks. He’d hated that Harris had asked Sam to give up her job and move for his benefit. Wasn’t this the exact same thing?

Brad snorted. “Forgive me, but I just don’t see how living on a tour bus with a handful of sweaty guys and trying to somehow build a stable lifestyle for a five-year-old boy is much of a life. In fact, it strikes me that taking Sam on the road is like asking her to trade in her life for yours. She loses her job
and
her family. What does she gain? And don’t you dare say
you
.”

Brad was close now, out of his chair and in Lukas’s face, and he was looking down his strong nose, glaring into Lukas’s eyes. Lukas didn’t fold. “I’m not even going to mention the fact that you’ve got a child in this equation,” Brad said.

Brad’s words hit their mark. Made his stomach sicken. He’d avoided thinking about the truth, but there it was. How long would Sam stay happy in a world where shows ran late and the bus left early for destination after destination, where meals and schedules were hit-and-miss and there wasn’t time for much of anything but practicing, playing, working on new music, and getting up and doing it all again the next day?

Still, the decision was his and Sam’s. Brad was worse than a buttinski mother-in-law. “I’m surprised you’re one to be so judgmental about unconventional ways of raising a family,” Lukas said.

“I didn’t have a choice. I played the hand that was dealt to me.”

“Maybe you’re forgetting that Sam
does
have a choice. And it’s hers to make, not yours.”

“I’m her oldest brother. I care about her welfare. Nice that you’re playing house but who’s the one that’s going to get hurt here? I care about my sister. I can’t sit by and pretend that I don’t.”

And Lukas didn’t? He would always be that across-the-tracks kind of guy and Brad would always assume the worst no matter what he did.

“Okay, hey, guys.” Sam popped her head into the room wearing a baseball cap with her ponytail threaded through the back, looking fresh and sweet and happy. Like she clearly hadn’t heard what they were just saying. “Is the Inquisition over yet, big bro? Because I’d really like to talk to Lukas. Meg and I just found out T-ball sign-ups are tonight and now that the blankie’s gotten ditched, I thought it would be a great idea to sign Stevie up so he could meet more boys.” She made a double-biceps flex and looked at Lukas. “What do you say?”

“Sounds great,” Lukas said, rising from the chair and forcing a smile for Sam’s sake. “Nice chatting with you,” he said to Brad.

As they walked out and gathered the boys, Lukas realized that no matter how much he’d matured over the years, there would be no winning Brad over. And no matter how happy he was with Sam, pretending to be a regular guy with the possibility of a regular life in Mirror Lake, his time here was drawing to a close.

He had to make a decision soon about the Stones. If he said yes, the tour would take him away the rest of the summer.

He watched Sam joke around with the kids, laugh and chat with Olivia about her day, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He told Sam he had a massive headache, and would it be okay if he skipped the T-ball sign-ups? Normally he would never miss something like that, but right now he just didn’t have the heart. It wasn’t so much that Brad had gotten in his head. More like he’d said things that had been echoing around in there for weeks.

He headed to the town square and sat on a bench. It was 5:00 p.m. on a bright spring evening. The little park was pretty dead, a few dog walkers, a couple groups of kids playing softball on the green space, some workers heading home for dinner. Suddenly a thin, gangly man with scraggly long gray hair surrounding a crown of baldness approached him.

“I know you,” he said, waggling a finger.

Lukas extended a hand. “Lukas Spikonos.”

“Victor Irving.”

Of course. The town’s resident ex-rocker. His one hit song had gone platinum, way back in the seventies.

“I’ve been following your career. Makes me remember my own rise to fame.”

“It’s been a crazy ride,” Lukas said.

“I started out like you, many years ago. After my big hit, I thought the fame was going to last forever. I loved it, all of it—the fans, the applause, the beautiful women. Everyone wanted a piece of me. It’s like a drug, man.”

Lukas could relate. He loved the writing. The performing. But he never was one to believe he was something special. It was hard work and luck that had brought him to where he was. It wasn’t so much that he loved the fame but the validation it had brought him. It had made him
somebody.
Frankly, he wasn’t sure who he was without it.

“Yep, you never know how long it’s going to last.” Victor rambled on about how he’d been discovered, how he’d come up with the music and lyrics to his song. He’d been telling that same story for years. A little sad, to see that his one moment in the spotlight had defined his entire life.

Out of the blue, a nicotine craving hit Lukas. The first in a while. What Brad had said about Sam going on the road seemed right to him—she’d hate it. She wanted a home and a settled life, family, friends, community. He understood—he knew deep down—that Mirror Lake was a big part of her. If he settled here, would he have what it took to make a real family? To make Sam happy?

What would happen if he slowed down, cut way back on the touring?
Slowing down
had never been part of his nature. He’d be washed up within a year, replaced by any one of the younger, brighter talents trying to pound the door down, looking for a crack to break in. Then what would he replace his fame with?

He loved Samantha, he was certain of it. But he sure could use a guidebook on being a father and taking Stevie on the road and keeping up his career and doing what was best for her life, too.

But like so much of life, there were simply no instructions.

CHAPTER 18

Sam shoved a bottle of wine and the pizza she’d picked up on the way home into Lukas’s brand-new fridge, and paced back and forth on the newly varnished wood floor. Lukas had asked if she’d minded him skipping the T-ball sign-ups, saying he needed to go for a run. It wasn’t like Lukas to beg off from an activity, and he’d looked so . . . unsettled. She hoped he hadn’t let Brad get to him. She’d have to tell her brother to cool it, enough already.

She was so on edge these last few days, it was like she was holding her breath waiting for a good strong wind to knock down their fragile house of cards and blow it away for good.

Oh, being with him was wonderful. He was wonderful. But she knew he planned to take Stevie with him on the road. She couldn’t see herself living that life, not that he’d asked, but if he did, what would she do? Would she abandon her life here for him, just as she’d done for Harris? Joe Malone had said her job was still open, and if she wanted it back, but she would have to tell him soon.

She just couldn’t get over the fear that Lukas would leave again. His career would beckon, and he would have to go. And this time, when he left, he would take everything.

From the way her gut was roiling, she knew Lukas and she would have to have a talk. They’d delayed it for as long as possible.
One more day
, she’d tell herself.
Please, God, let us have one more fantastic day together.
But she saw it in his eyes, felt it in the desperate way he kissed her, in the way he held her after their frenzied, frantic lovemaking. The sand in the hourglass was running out. Like the last day of vacation, like Sunday night before the workweek. Things would have to be said, decisions made.

Suddenly she saw a face staring at her through the back door.

“May I help you?” Sam asked the balding, portly man who was standing there as she opened it.

“I need to speak with Lukas.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Sam said.

“Are you the nanny?”

Sam crossed her arms. “No, Lukas is old enough to take care of himself now. Are you by chance Tony? Lukas has told me about you.”

The man laughed and offered a hand. “Tony Marinetti. You must be the girlfriend.”

The
girlfriend. She did like the sound of that, as opposed to
a
girlfriend or
one of
the girlfriends, but this guy was still a Neanderthal. “I’m Sam. Have you tried his phone?”

“Look,” he said, waving a file folder and his cigar. “He texted me but he’s not answering his phone. I really need him to sign this contract tonight or the Stones are going to sign somebody else.”

“The
Rolling
Stones?”

He must have seen the look on her face because he said, “Oh my God, you don’t know, do you? Lukas is opening for the Rolling Stones next Saturday, and then he’s going on tour with them for the rest of the summer.”

Sam’s head swam a little. She almost had to clutch onto one of the brand-new bar stools. That would be impossible, because the theater benefit was next Saturday. And he was the main attraction. “Next Saturday, the first of June?” she asked.

“The first of June,” Tony said loud and slow, like she was hearing impaired. He set some papers down on the counter. “He needs to sign these and call me immediately.”

Just then, Lukas walked in, car keys in hand. She hadn’t even heard him pull up.

“Tony?” he asked. “What are you doing here?” He looked from Sam to Tony, and in the flash of a second it took to meet her eyes, Sam knew—just knew, in the tiny flicker of something: worry, concern, guilt, whatever she saw there—that he was aware of everything. A tour with the Stones versus a small-town benefit for an old dusty theater. Was there any comparison?

“I’ll tell you what,” she said, forcing what must have been the phoniest smile ever on her face. “You two talk and I . . . I’ll finish helping Stevie get ready for bed.” As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, she couldn’t breathe well. Her chest hurt. Her knees were shaking and she had no idea how she was going to keep it together for that little boy.

Why hadn’t Lukas told her he was going back on tour so soon? And why had he not told her he wasn’t singing at the benefit? In the dim hall, she leaned against the wall to collect herself. Tears welled up but she wiped them with the back of her hands and took in big gulps of air. She would finish this off with a smile on her face for Stevie if it killed her.

She’d just drawn Stevie’s bath when Lukas found her in the bathroom. Stevie was leaning over the tub, fists full of mismatched action figures, plopping them one at a time into the water, something she would normally find entertaining. The fact that he was chattering about Wolverine and Batman saving the earth and all the Power Rangers coming to the rescue (with sound effects) was endearing and so bittersweet she could barely keep it together.

Lukas took one look at her and read her
I’m-losing-my-shit
look immediately. “I’ll take over,” he said. “I’ll put Stevie to bed then we’ll talk, okay?”

Sam took comfort that they didn’t have to say out loud the fact that they would never involve Stevie in their disagreements. It went without saying, like so many other things they just knew without having to communicate. They’d only been together a few days, hardly enough to establish a routine, yet he’d handed her a freshly poured cup of coffee as soon as she came down in the mornings. (Once, he’d even brought it to her in bed. Who could complain it had gotten cold before she’d had a chance to drink it?) Or how he always made room for her to prop herself against him on the couch when they both sat there reading. Or how he just naturally pulled her into the curve of his body at night before they went to sleep, making her feel safe and loved and . . .

It was all a mirage. There was no safety in this relationship. She’d known it from day one. Hell, she’d known it six years ago, but somehow she’d believed this time would be different.

By the time Lukas joined her on the big wraparound porch, she’d opened the wine and had already downed a full glass. There wasn’t any furniture yet, so she sat down and leaned against the wall. Ahead was a perfect view of the sun setting over the lake. A big beautiful ball of red going, going . . .

Lukas slid down the wall and settled next to her. “Tony told me about the Stones opportunity while I was in the hospital. I didn’t even put two and two together at first that it was the same day as the theater benefit.”

“I believe you, Lukas.” She did believe him. By saying that, she wanted to let him know she trusted him. That she believed they could work things out. They could, couldn’t they? God, where the hell was the wine?

He looked so worried. She wanted to reach over and smooth the frown lines on his beautiful forehead. Kiss them away. But that would only distract them both from the truth.

“But you want to go. Of course you want to go.” She waved her hands in the air a little wildly. She felt wild and out of control. And she couldn’t seem to stop rambling. “I mean, it’s the Stones, right? How can you pass up that opportunity?”

“Sam, this tour will secure my place as a serious player in the industry. I hope you understand. It’s impossible to pass up.”

She felt like she had a llama on her chest. Or a camel or an alpaca or some giant humped creature that was preventing her from sucking in air. She had to clear her throat so she could get the words out. “Sounds like you’ve already decided.”
Without me.
“When were you going to tell me?”

“Tonight. Please understand. It’s once in a lifetime.”

And I’m clearly not.
Oh, she didn’t say it. How could she make him feel guilty for pursuing his dream, right?

He looked at her intently. She had to give the man credit, turning those melty dark chocolate eyes on her dulled the pain—for a second. “I want you to know I’ve already secured Ed Sheeran to replace me,” he said. “You’ll at least have a headliner that will draw a huge crowd.”

Dammit, tears were stinging her nose and she was getting that closed-up-airway feeling again. “Okay, so when will you be back?” she asked. Maybe this wasn’t all bad. Maybe she was making a big deal of nothing. “So maybe you’ll go and do your thing for a couple weeks, and maybe Stevie could stay here while you’re gone, and when you come back we could make some real plans, like enrolling him in school. I have to make a decision about a place to live after the Donaldsons get back from Europe, and I was thinking maybe I could move in . . . here . . .”

His face stopped her. Oh, God, there was not going to be a “we,” was there? They were not going to settle here in this big beautiful, refurbished farmhouse with the killer view and have a flock of dark-eyed, olive-skinned children and live to see old age, rocking in big old chairs on this beautiful porch. “Lukas, talk to me. Please.”
Because my throat is closing up and I might be having a heart attack. And a stroke.

“The Stones thing is for eight weeks, but I’ve got an offer for a new contract. They want me back in LA working on a new album as soon as the tour is done.”

“Oh.” More bad news. More time apart. She wanted to hear him say something reassuring.
I love you
might be nice, or
we can work this out
. She’d take either. But he was silent. He was not jumping to compromise or to fight for what they had.

It struck her that she’d been through this before, with Harris. Always waiting for him to tell her that he loved her, that he wanted her, that he couldn’t live life without her. It was always,
well, we’re awfully close to making some big decisions
, or
after this summer, we’ll reevaluate
, like their relationship was a business plan or something. But with Lukas . . . well, she’d had such hopes. She’d felt that he was The One, that they’d found each other after all this time, and nothing would stop them from being together.

Oh, it was just that artsy, emotional side of her. Going and falling in love when she knew he was bound to leave again. She should have done as Brad wanted long ago and gotten that logical, practical business degree. Maybe it would have given her more sense in dealing with relationships.

“So where does that leave us?” she finally said because he was saying . . . nothing. Her words sounded weak and far, far away.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

“When will that be?”

“Probably September. Or October. Of course, you can fly out any weekend you want to be with us, too.”

She let his words settle into the beautiful spring evening. Birds were swooping low over the lake and a riot of them were chirping and tweeting in the brush. Glorious, but not for her.

The old Sam would have let that go. Would have accepted what he could give and not demanded any more.

But she’d changed. Maybe she’d spent too many years trading her voice for the security she craved. But now that she’d shot security all to hell, what was left? Not a damn thing.

She turned to Lukas and looked him in the eye. “Is that all you have to say?”

He frowned. Like he was genuinely perplexed at what to do next. “Sam, I have to do this to secure my future—our future. I can’t just settle in here without a job, without a plan. That would be a disaster for everyone.”

“I’m not asking you to give up your career or even this opportunity. I’m asking if you love me.”

God, she hated herself for asking him that. Just like she’d made a fool of herself for suggesting she move into this house with him. She should just stop talking, but her mouth was a runaway locomotive and she could not put on the brakes.

He looked a little stunned. And he still hadn’t said a thing. “Love means promises,” she said. “It means compromise. It means working together to find a solution.”

“Why don’t you come with us until school starts?” he asked. “Then we can reassess things in the fall.”

Reassess? There was that business-plan language again. She stood a little too quickly, her glass tipping and dark wine spilling across the old porch boards.

“I’m not leaving Mirror Lake, Lukas. I gave up almost everything about who I was for Harris, and I’ll never do that again.” There, she could be stubborn, too. Maybe she could have done it, gone on the road. But he sounded so—so lukewarm about everything. Like he didn’t really want her there at all.

“So you want me to make all the compromises.”

There it was. “You know what, Lukas? I would never keep you from your dream but I actually see something else going on here entirely. More than a man just trying to work as hard as he can to be as successful as possible.”

“It’s what I’ve always done.”

“It’s what you’ve always done
to avoid commitment
. You think I would have learned that about you by now, but obviously I didn’t. But I know you, Lukas. You’ve done everything you could to be successful and you’ve made it, you really have. But you’re never going to stop craving that success. You’ll get one contract, but it won’t be enough. You’ll have to try for an even bigger one. You still see yourself as that nobody-kid and you’ll be proving that you’re not to yourself and to everyone else for the rest of your life.”

She smiled sadly. “I’m not something to reassess. Either you love me or you don’t. I can’t tell you how to live your life but I can decide how to live mine, and it’s not going to be to please you or my family or anyone. I wish you the best. I hope you slay your demons. Good-bye, Lukas.”

Somehow she left him, ran into the kitchen for her purse and walked down the driveway to her car. Oh, he’d tried to stop her but she just hightailed it out of there as fast as she could. She’d just exited the driveway when her phone rang. It was Alethea, and she pulled off the road to answer. “The Buckhorns have withdrawn their million-dollar pledge,” she said, “and they’ve chosen not to cover any of the expenses for tomorrow night—the caterers, the appetizers, the wine, the decorations. What shall I do?”

“Oh, Alethea.” Sam rested her head against the steering wheel, trying to absorb its coolness. Trying to think clearly through the aching sadness that burrowed clear down to her marrow. Desperately struggling to come up with something comforting or brave to say, but no words came. Of course the Buckhorns would withdraw their support. They’d never really cared about the theater, just about keeping her occupied with a “little project.” Now that her connection with Harris was broken, there was no reason for them to continue pretending they cared.