When I'm Gone: A Novel (15 page)

He wasn’t a “good” dad. Natalie had planned it all. Between Annie, Jessie, and now Will, who occasionally decided to be helpful, most days he felt like little more than a figurehead and paycheck.

“No, you’re wrong. Will told me how you did all kinds of research on the letter he found. I think that’s amazing.” Her yellowish-green eyes looked right into Luke’s, and his heart beat a little faster. He opened his mouth to respond with some kind of self-deprecation but closed it again, not wanting to come off as unappreciative.

“Thank you, Ms. Mason. We’re lucky to have you,” Luke said, grabbing his coffee more from guilt than an actual desire to drink it. “I’ll take this with me if you don’t mind?”

“Of course. And you are welcome to the roll too. I put a whole box of them in the teacher’s lounge, so I definitely don’t need any more.”

“Thanks.” Luke rolled it up in the napkin, his hands awkwardly full. “Well, you’ll let me know if you need anything else?”

“Of course.” Ms. Mason opened the door and leaned against it to keep it open.

Luke lifted his drink in her direction. “I’m sure I’ll see you next year.”

“Um, Mr. Richardson.” Ms. Mason tapped the toe of her shoe nervously as she dug around in the wide pockets flaring out at the hip on her black skirt. “I . . . I wanted to give you my card. I won’t be checking my work messages very often over the summer, so I wrote my cell number on the back.” The card rested between two of her fingers, the red nail polish matching her shoes almost perfectly.

This was it, the moment where he had a choice to make. He had to take the card, but what would he do with it? Stuff it in the glove compartment in his car, or put it in his wallet, wait a few days or weeks, and then, when he was finally ready, give her a call?

“Oh, your hands are full. Here.” She placed the card on top of the wrapped-up cinnamon roll. “And please, call me Felicity.” The name Felicity Mason flashed up at him from the off-white card stock.

“Thanks for breakfast, Felicity. I’m glad we have you and your ninja skills on our side,” Luke joked, which made Felicity Mason give another one of her hearty laughs. “And I can’t get my business card out right now, but you can call me Luke.”

“Well, Luke”—Felicity balanced on her heels without wobbling—“I hope you have a wonderful summer, and I look forward to hearing from you.”

“Yeah, you too.” As he walked out of the guidance office, he refused to look back in case Ms. Mason . . . Felicity . . . was still watching him. By the time Luke got to the parking lot, his shirtsleeve was soaked in sweat. On the corner of the sidewalk stood a garbage can, filled with papers, food wrappers, and insulated cups. Luke tossed his drink in the can without stopping. As he headed for the car, a wind gust made the business card flutter. Luke grabbed it before it blew away. On the back, a handwritten message caught his eye.

“Call or text anytime,” with a phone number scrawled underneath. Luke tucked the card away in his back pocket, shaking his head.

God, Natalie, what have you gotten me into this time?

CHAPTER 15

“Hey, we’re home!” May shouted, running into the house at full speed. She clutched a new doll in her arms. With its long brown hair and blue eyes, the doll looked like a little mini-May. “I got a doll; her name is Sally!”

Luke stepped over the threshold and closed the garage door. The smell of bleach tickled his nose. Usually when he came home to relieve Annie, the house was filled with the smell of dinner cooking or a bag of microwave popcorn for a movie. Bleach was unexpected. Wandering through the front rooms of the house, Luke was surprised and a little horrified at how clean they all were.

“Annie!” he scolded, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to clean my house.”

In the kitchen, the cleanliness continued. The family room was tidy, the TV stand shockingly clear of dust, and Annie stood at the sink, wearing yellow rubber gloves up to her elbows.

“Annie.” He sighed. “You didn’t spend your whole day cleaning, did you? Please don’t feel like you have to clean up after us. It makes me feel really guilty.”

She waved a gloved hand at him. “Don’t worry. I didn’t do it alone. Will is impressively talented at getting mildew out of bathroom tile.”

“Daddy, I did the feathers.” Clayton jumped up and hugged his leg, smiling like he’d built the house himself.

“Feathers?” Luke asked.

Annie peeled off her gloves with a snap. “Dusting,” she whispered.

“Oh, dusting.” Luke took three steps toward the island, Clayton hanging on for dear life. “You, sir, are one amazing duster.”

“I know.” Clayton giggled.

“So, how was the American Girl store? May seems happy.” They both looked at May, who was sitting with her doll at the table, explaining that she needed to eat all her green beans if she wanted any dessert. “You feel extra girly today?”

“Yeah, we had tea.” Luke held up his pinky finger like he was holding a teacup. “Did I mention I’m a good dad?”

“You didn’t need to.” She yanked off the
K
ISS THE
C
OOK
apron she’d taken to wearing and hung it on a hook by the fridge. “I already knew.”

“Make sure to tell Terry that when she gets here.”

Annie put one hand on her hip. “You know I would, but I don’t think I’ll get the chance to see her. Brian and I are going out to DC next week to look at . . . places.” She lowered her voice when she mentioned the semi-taboo subject.

“Ah, yeah, I forgot.” Luke was trying very hard to be supportive. “So, any official news?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. He’s on the ‘top of the list,’ whatever that means.”

They stood there in silence for a second. Whenever they spoke about the impending move, Luke always had an intense yearning to ask her to stay. So, supportive or not, he had to force himself not to speak, afraid of what might come out.

“Well, thanks for watching Clayton so I could have my special date with May.” Luke had taken off the past week to spend the kids’ last week at home without Terry. She’d spend the next week with them in Michigan and then take the kids back to Florida with her for six whole weeks.

After spending just one week at home with the kids, Luke was more certain than ever that summer at Grandma Terry’s would be better for everyone. In the past week they’d gone to the pool, taken a trip to the zoo, and played an epic game of hide-and-seek on one particularly rainy afternoon. But summer was Natalie’s forte, and now it felt like they were all trying a little too hard.

“You never have to thank me for the time I spend with your kids. I adore them.” Clayton, who’d unsuctioned himself from Luke’s leg, was now hanging from Annie’s yoga pants. She didn’t seem to mind, patting his blond hair affectionately. “What you
do
have to thank me for is cleaning out that fridge. Jeez, Luke, please don’t tell me this is the first time it’s been cleaned out since Natalie did it.”

“No, you didn’t.” Luke breezed past Annie and Clayton, yanking open the refrigerator door. The shelves glistened and were nearly empty. The faint scent of bleach was almost refreshing when mixed with the clean cold air of the refrigerator. “Annie.” Luke lowered his voice. “You’ve got to let me pay you. You work too hard.”

“No way; I won’t take your money.” She wrapped her hand around the refrigerator door handle under Luke’s and pushed it shut. “I only did it because of Terry visiting this week. I didn’t want to give her any added ammunition to be mean to you.”

“Oh”—he hesitated—“Natalie told you?”

“It wasn’t very hard to pick up on.” She let go of the handle first. “I was here every day at the end. She is not an easy mother-in-law, that’s for sure.” Annie leaned her head against the fridge and crossed her arms across her loose electric-blue athletic shirt.

Luke rested against the freezer door. “Yeah, I’m used to ignoring her disapproval at this point. I did do something sneaky though.”

“Oh! What?”

“I got a smartphone.”

“What the? For real?” She smacked his shoulder. “So you can text now?” She smiled mischievously, tapping her fingers together in front of her like she was developing an evil plan. “Oh, you might regret this.”

“Yes, I can text.” Luke rolled his eyes. “I can also video chat with Will now or even send videos to the phone Clayton uses at bedtime. Then I won’t have to bother Terry—or well, interact with her.”

“Wait, so you still pay for service on Natalie’s phone?”

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Aren’t you worried Clayton will start making calls?” She ran her fingers through Clayton’s hair again, but he didn’t seem to like it this time. Detaching himself from Annie, he ran off into the front room without a word.

“I put it in airplane mode when he has it. I just . . .” Embarrassed, his cheeks flushed. He’d always told himself he’d never tell anyone about his phone calls, but telling Annie secrets about himself was becoming easier and easier every day. “Sometimes when I’m feeling lonely, I like to call her.”

He stopped himself before he told her that on the really bad days, he’d leave messages and talk about the kids or how much he missed her. Lately his messages were filled with questions and anger. He always felt better after those desperate messages. Maybe that’s what prayer felt like to other people.

“God, Luke . . .” Annie reached out and squeezed his hand. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Can I call too? I never could bring myself to delete her contact information.”

Luke casually pulled his hand away and tucked it into his pants pocket.

“Sure. I turned her ringer off a long time ago. Though you might want to do it before they go to Terry’s. I have no idea what she’ll do with the phone once she gets her hands on it.”

“I wish they weren’t leaving.” Annie pushed off the fridge to the counter, where her glistening white smartphone sat. “I’m going to miss them so much. You know you’ll have to fill that void with a generous amount of texts, right?” She put out her hand. “Here, give me your fancy new phone.”

Luke slipped the phone out of his front pocket with two fingers. He still wasn’t used to its size and weight after living with a palm-size flip phone for years. When Annie held it in her palm, she started flipping through the apps, typing with her fingertips.

“There. I put my info in and called myself so you can get in touch with me whenever you want.” She handed the phone back to Luke when the doorbell rang. Her eyebrows shot up. “You expecting a package or something?”

Luke cursed silently. Annie was supposed to be gone by now.

“Uh, it’s Jessie.” Luke cleared his throat and projected his voice. “Will! Could you get that?” A distant grunt and stomping feet followed. No way Will would emerge from his teen cave for anyone other than Jessie or Annie.

“Jessie?” Annie’s forehead wrinkled. “If you needed a sitter, why not ask me? I’m already here.”

Luke returned his phone to his shirt pocket and sighed. “I was going to be out late, and you’ve already been here all day. I didn’t want to take advantage.”

“Late? What are you up to?”

Jessie sauntered in, barefoot, with shorts and a
BroadwayCares.org
T-shirt, eager for the few months of summer like every other Michigander. She slid a pair of thick-framed white sunglasses on the top of her head and joined them at the counter.

“He’s going on a date,” she whispered. Her bubbling anticipation reminded Luke of the moment a few weeks earlier when May had thought Jessie was going on a date.

Annie stood and put her hands on her hips, head cocked to one side. Luke couldn’t decide if she looked confused or annoyed.

“A date? With who?”

Dang it. He had to tell her now. “Ms. Mason, from school.”

“The guidance counselor? I thought Will was joking.”

“It was a joke, but she gave me her number and . . .”
And Natalie told me to do it.
No, he couldn’t tell her that.

“I think it’s great, Mr. Richardson. After my mom died it took my dad forever to date again.”

Jessie was trying to be sweet, but she was also just socially awkward enough to not catch on how her comment could make Luke feel like an ass. He wanted to explain—this wasn’t his idea. Sure, he liked Felicity Mason, but if it weren’t for Natalie’s letter and her nagging reminders, he never would’ve thought of her as more than Will’s guidance counselor. Jessie might not be wondering how he’d moved on so fast, but one look at Annie told him she wasn’t impressed with his date.

“I better get going,” Annie said, collecting her drawstring bag and flinging it over her shoulders. “You need to change for your date, and I need to get home to make dinner for Brian. Have a nice summer break, Jessie. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“You too!” Jessie called after Annie as she walked briskly toward the front door.

“Hey, stop.” Luke followed her, hoping for a chance to explain. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Ms. Mason. I didn’t want to upset May. I’m not sure she’s ready for any of this.”

Annie shoved her feet into her brightly colored athletic shoes, using her fingers to slide them over her heels. “No, she’s not.” She stood and flipped her hair out of her face, cheeks flushed with blood from being upside down. “Are you ready for this? You still read those letters like they are your own personal bible, and I see the way your face twists whenever the kids bring up Natalie. I’m a little surprised you’d rush into a new relationship.”

“Relationship?” Luke’s knees wobbled at the word. “This is not a relationship; it’s one date. And I don’t understand where you get off thinking you can judge me on this.” He slapped his leg, frustrated. “This whole damn thing was Natalie’s idea, not mine.”

Annie stopped breathing for a second and then took a step back. “That is so strange, Luke. How can you not see how dysfunctional it is that you’ve fallen sway to this whole Natalie letter-writing campaign?”

“
My
relationship is dysfunctional?” Words bubbled up inside him, angry words. His ears rang, and he couldn’t hold back. “How about you and Brian? You can’t tell me he’s never laid a . . .”

Annie’s mouth hung open. “I have to go.”

“No, Annie. I’m so sorry. Please don’t go.” Luke reached out and grabbed her hand, but she ripped it away and opened the front door in a giant swing, the golden mail-slot cover flapping with the sudden movement.

“Have fun on your date.” She slammed the door in Luke’s face.