Waiting On You
Page 51
Colleen came back out. “Where’s Greg?” she said, frowning.
“He had to leave,” Lucas muttered.
Now granted, he knew that Colleen hadn’t been celibate for the past ten years (no matter how nice that would’ve been to imagine). But it didn’t mean he felt good, hearing that kind of shit.
“Lucas threw his ass out,” Gerard offered.
“Why?” Colleen asked.
“Because he was rude,” Lucas answered.
“I see. So he told you I slept with him?”
“I’d rather not discuss this in a bar.”
She sighed. “I own this bar, Spaniard. Try not to be too retro, okay? Sorry I wasn’t sitting home alone, knitting bandages for injured soldiers as I waited for you to come back to me.”
He gave her a hot look. She returned it, then went to the end of the bar to get someone a drink.
“Hi, Lucas.” Faith wriggled onto the stool next to him, Levi at her side. Probably a good thing Levi hadn’t been here five minutes ago, or Lucas might be on his way to the new holding cell at the police station. He took a breath and unclenched his jaw.
“The public safety building looks incredible,” Levi said. “Went up fast.”
Lucas nodded. The job had been easy compared to a fifty-seven-story skyscraper, and had gone without significant hiccups. As soon as the painters were done, the three emergency departments could start moving in.
“Hi, gorgeous!” Colleen said, leaning over the bar to kiss Faith. “How’s my godchild percolating in there?”
“So far, so good,” she said happily, and Levi touched her cheek.
Lucas remembered that feeling. The awe of having a baby on the way, the protectiveness over your woman.
The broken feeling in his chest when he saw Ellen, white and sobbing in the hospital.
He said a quick prayer that Faith and Levi wouldn’t know that sorrow. No one deserved that. And while he was at it, that Ellen and Steve’s twins would be healthy and hearty.
Colleen plopped his plate in front of him with a clatter, deliberate, he was sure. Probably another hearty dose of whatever evil hot sauce she’d used on his burger that time.
Then she reached over and messed up his hair. “Faith, have you ever seen hair as beautiful as this?” she asked, and just like that, she was done being mad.
“I’m partial to blonds myself,” Faith said. “But no, I haven’t. Unless it’s yours.”
“I’d ask you to stop sulking, Spaniard,” Colleen said, leaning down so he could get the full power of the view down her shirt, “but I think it’s kind of hot.”
He took a bite of the sandwich. It was excellent. No burning esophagus anywhere.
“Hey, bro!” Bryce stood in front of him, beaming. “Guess what! I got a job!” He offered his fist for a bump.
Lucas obliged. “Doing what?”
“Hi, Bryce,” Colleen said. “You want a beer?”
“Yeah! I’m celebrating! I’m employed.”
“That’s great,” she said, glancing down the busy bar as she pulled him an IPA. “What will you be doing?”
Bryce sat down and accepted his beer. “Menopause Boot Camp,” he announced proudly.
Lucas choked. “Wow. What does that entail, exactly?”
“Coll, it was your mom who gave me the idea,” Bryce said. “You know? All these old chicks starting to fall apart, complaining about their creaky knees and hot flashes, and I’m like, ‘Girls, you need to get out there a little more, get the blood flowing, right?’ and your mom says, ‘Bryce, if the instructor looked like you, I’d do it.’ So I’m like, ‘Dude, what an awesome idea!’ And she got all those other chicks to sign up. Isn’t that great?”
“I think my grandmother just joined that class,” Faith said.
“She did!” Bryce said. “What do you think, Lucas?”
As ever, his cousin wanted his approval. “Sounds good, buddy. You’ll be great at it.” He paused. “You need insurance and waivers and a place and all that.”
“I know,” he said. “Carlos Mendez said if I started working on getting certified as a personal trainer, he’d let me work out of the gym, so long as my clients joined.” He paused. “I’m not good at that much, but I know how to work out, and I like women.” He smiled and shrugged.
“Good for you, Bryce,” Lucas said.
“I think it’s genius,” Colleen said. “You could also call it Women Who Love Looking at Bryce. Half the town would join.”
“You could be grandfathered in,” Bryce said with a wink, and Lucas wasn’t sure, but for a second, Colleen looked almost...stricken.
But a moment later, she was laughing at something Faith said and flirting with an old guy in a flannel shirt.
Hannah O’Rourke came out of the kitchen. “Collie, Connor wants you.”
“Roger,” she said. She went into the kitchen, attracting a good amount of male attention, Lucas’s included.
At that moment, his phone buzzed. Rushing Creek.
“You’d better get here as soon as you can, Mr. Campbell,” said the nurse. “It looks like it’s time.”
* * *
“WE SHOULD TELL my mom,” Bryce objected as Lucas towed him down the hallway toward the hospice wing. “I’ll call her now.”
“There’s no time,” Lucas said. Didi and Joe had kept the divorce from Bryce as if he was a fragile eight-year-old. “Come on, buddy.”
For the past eleven days, Lucas had spent a lot of time in this room. He’d brought in photo albums, meticulously kept since Bryce’s birth onward, and listened as Joe told him who was who in the pictures, or described where they’d been—here’s the one from the Cascades...this was in Zion National Park. Oh, the river walk in San Antonio! And here’s when we were in France.
The room felt different now, heavy with the sound of Joe’s labored breathing. His uncle’s face was puffy, and he appeared to be sleeping.
Bryce hesitated in the doorway.
“Joe? We’re here,” Lucas said. He went to his uncle’s bedside and took his hand, gesturing for Bryce to come closer. Bryce stayed put.
“Hi,” Joe whispered. He opened his eyes with effort, and saw Bryce. “Hi, honey-boy,” he said.
Bryce took a shuddering breath. “Hey, Dad.”
“Come on over here,” Joe said, and Bryce obeyed, tears sliding down his face.
“Oh, Dad. Please don’t die.” There was a note of panic in his voice, poor kid. Bryce sat down in the bedside chair and took his father’s hand.
“I’m sorry about this, son,” Joe whispered. There was a rattle in his breathing now.
Lucas moved to Joe’s other side and put a hand on his shoulder. “What can we do for you, Joe?” he asked.
He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to his own father, but he was here now.
His uncle looked up. “Lucas...” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Would you mind...leaving Bryce and me alone?”
Lucas blinked. He glanced at his cousin, who was sobbing softly, his head on his father’s arm. “Um...sure. Of course.” He paused, leaned down and kissed his uncle’s forehead. “Thank you, Joe,” he whispered. “For taking me in.”
But Joe’s eyes were on his son, and so Lucas had nothing left to do but obey, the door wheezing shut behind him.
The hallway was dark and quiet. A nurse went by, her eyes kind.
He could call Colleen. She’d wait with him.
He had no one else, after all.
Instead, he just stood there. After a while, he sat, looking at the closed door, and it was hard to breathe because of the pain in his chest, like a cold, thick spike had been driven through it.
He’d call Steph after it was over. Didi, too, and Ellen. He’d do what needed to be done, what Joe had asked him to do, and then he wanted to leave this little town and not come back, because all he’d ever been here was an outsider, an impostor.
Except with Colleen.
The door opened, and Lucas lurched to his feet.
“He’s gone,” Bryce said. “He’s really gone.”
He burst into racking sobs, and Lucas opened his arms and hugged his cousin.
He could see Joe in the bed, undeniably still.
“I got to tell him about my job,” Bryce wept, “and he said he was proud of me, and I was an entrepreneur, like him, and I’d do great.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
“You know what else he said?” Bryce said wetly, pulling back to mop his face.
“What’s that, buddy?”
“He said I was everything he ever hoped for in a son.” Bryce’s face crumpled again.
“Hi,” said the kindly nurse. “Do you need some more time with your dad, boys?”
“He’s my dad,” Bryce corrected. “Not his.”
And that about summed it up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
COLLEEN HAD JUST come out of the shower and was contemplating a binge of Ben & Jerry’s to help resist the urge to call Lucas. He had shit going on and didn’t need her bugging him with stupid texts like Thinking of you! or Hey, wanna come over? And it was 1:33 a.m. He could well be asleep, and it had hurt her heart to see how tired he looked earlier.
Yep. Ben & Jerry’s it was, the only two men who’d never let her down. Vanilla Heath Bar, or Peanut Brittle? Peanut Brittle it was, the crystal meth of the ice cream world. She’d bought eleven pints last week, terrified that Faith would hit the market first and clean them out.
Rufus lumbered to his feet. Ah rah! Ah rah! Ah rooroo rah! he bellowed in his mighty baritone. Sure enough, a knock came at the door.
She tossed the ice cream back in the freezer and opened the door.
It was Lucas, and those pirate eyes were unbearably sad.
“Oh, honey,” she said, and wrapped her arms around him because it was written all over his face.
“He’s gone,” Lucas said. He let her hold him, but he seemed...lost.
Ah rah! Ah rah roo! her beastie said.
“Come in,” she murmured. “Are you hungry? Want a drink?”
“No. Colleen—” He stopped. She waited.
He didn’t continue.
Rufus, however, began his typical “are you a boy or a girl” investigation. “Okay, Rufus, no. Go away, boy.”
Her dog obeyed. Lucas, however, just stood there.
Shit. A white-hot brand of fear and guilt rammed through her heart. He knew. Oh, sphincter, he knew. Maybe she should’ve told him before, but—
“I need to tell you something.”
She swallowed, her throat so dry it clacked. She wished she was wearing something other than a Tweety Bird T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.
“Um...want to sit down?”
“No.” He just looked at her, then rather shockingly cupped her face in his hands. “Colleen...the only thing that’s ever really been mine is you.”
God. The words hit her like a sledgehammer. A good sledgehammer. “Oh, Spaniard,” she whispered.
“When I was a kid, I only remember my mom being sick, and then my dad worked all the time, and Steph was always out with some guy. And then when I came to live with Didi and Joe—” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I didn’t belong there, and Didi made sure I knew it.”
“Lucas,” Colleen whispered, tears slipping out of her eyes. “I know Joe loved you.”
“He sent me out of the room tonight. At the end.”
No. No, that was just not fair. Oh, Joe, why did you do that?
“I always thought if I was...good enough, quiet enough or helpful enough, I’d earn a place, you know? But I didn’t. And then it hit me, hard...the only thing I’ve ever had that was really mine was you, Colleen. Bryce got everything handed to him, he had a home and parents who loved him and did everything for him, but once I met you, it didn’t matter. I had you. You were everything to me, and I ruined it.”
“He had to leave,” Lucas muttered.
Now granted, he knew that Colleen hadn’t been celibate for the past ten years (no matter how nice that would’ve been to imagine). But it didn’t mean he felt good, hearing that kind of shit.
“Lucas threw his ass out,” Gerard offered.
“Why?” Colleen asked.
“Because he was rude,” Lucas answered.
“I see. So he told you I slept with him?”
“I’d rather not discuss this in a bar.”
She sighed. “I own this bar, Spaniard. Try not to be too retro, okay? Sorry I wasn’t sitting home alone, knitting bandages for injured soldiers as I waited for you to come back to me.”
He gave her a hot look. She returned it, then went to the end of the bar to get someone a drink.
“Hi, Lucas.” Faith wriggled onto the stool next to him, Levi at her side. Probably a good thing Levi hadn’t been here five minutes ago, or Lucas might be on his way to the new holding cell at the police station. He took a breath and unclenched his jaw.
“The public safety building looks incredible,” Levi said. “Went up fast.”
Lucas nodded. The job had been easy compared to a fifty-seven-story skyscraper, and had gone without significant hiccups. As soon as the painters were done, the three emergency departments could start moving in.
“Hi, gorgeous!” Colleen said, leaning over the bar to kiss Faith. “How’s my godchild percolating in there?”
“So far, so good,” she said happily, and Levi touched her cheek.
Lucas remembered that feeling. The awe of having a baby on the way, the protectiveness over your woman.
The broken feeling in his chest when he saw Ellen, white and sobbing in the hospital.
He said a quick prayer that Faith and Levi wouldn’t know that sorrow. No one deserved that. And while he was at it, that Ellen and Steve’s twins would be healthy and hearty.
Colleen plopped his plate in front of him with a clatter, deliberate, he was sure. Probably another hearty dose of whatever evil hot sauce she’d used on his burger that time.
Then she reached over and messed up his hair. “Faith, have you ever seen hair as beautiful as this?” she asked, and just like that, she was done being mad.
“I’m partial to blonds myself,” Faith said. “But no, I haven’t. Unless it’s yours.”
“I’d ask you to stop sulking, Spaniard,” Colleen said, leaning down so he could get the full power of the view down her shirt, “but I think it’s kind of hot.”
He took a bite of the sandwich. It was excellent. No burning esophagus anywhere.
“Hey, bro!” Bryce stood in front of him, beaming. “Guess what! I got a job!” He offered his fist for a bump.
Lucas obliged. “Doing what?”
“Hi, Bryce,” Colleen said. “You want a beer?”
“Yeah! I’m celebrating! I’m employed.”
“That’s great,” she said, glancing down the busy bar as she pulled him an IPA. “What will you be doing?”
Bryce sat down and accepted his beer. “Menopause Boot Camp,” he announced proudly.
Lucas choked. “Wow. What does that entail, exactly?”
“Coll, it was your mom who gave me the idea,” Bryce said. “You know? All these old chicks starting to fall apart, complaining about their creaky knees and hot flashes, and I’m like, ‘Girls, you need to get out there a little more, get the blood flowing, right?’ and your mom says, ‘Bryce, if the instructor looked like you, I’d do it.’ So I’m like, ‘Dude, what an awesome idea!’ And she got all those other chicks to sign up. Isn’t that great?”
“I think my grandmother just joined that class,” Faith said.
“She did!” Bryce said. “What do you think, Lucas?”
As ever, his cousin wanted his approval. “Sounds good, buddy. You’ll be great at it.” He paused. “You need insurance and waivers and a place and all that.”
“I know,” he said. “Carlos Mendez said if I started working on getting certified as a personal trainer, he’d let me work out of the gym, so long as my clients joined.” He paused. “I’m not good at that much, but I know how to work out, and I like women.” He smiled and shrugged.
“Good for you, Bryce,” Lucas said.
“I think it’s genius,” Colleen said. “You could also call it Women Who Love Looking at Bryce. Half the town would join.”
“You could be grandfathered in,” Bryce said with a wink, and Lucas wasn’t sure, but for a second, Colleen looked almost...stricken.
But a moment later, she was laughing at something Faith said and flirting with an old guy in a flannel shirt.
Hannah O’Rourke came out of the kitchen. “Collie, Connor wants you.”
“Roger,” she said. She went into the kitchen, attracting a good amount of male attention, Lucas’s included.
At that moment, his phone buzzed. Rushing Creek.
“You’d better get here as soon as you can, Mr. Campbell,” said the nurse. “It looks like it’s time.”
* * *
“WE SHOULD TELL my mom,” Bryce objected as Lucas towed him down the hallway toward the hospice wing. “I’ll call her now.”
“There’s no time,” Lucas said. Didi and Joe had kept the divorce from Bryce as if he was a fragile eight-year-old. “Come on, buddy.”
For the past eleven days, Lucas had spent a lot of time in this room. He’d brought in photo albums, meticulously kept since Bryce’s birth onward, and listened as Joe told him who was who in the pictures, or described where they’d been—here’s the one from the Cascades...this was in Zion National Park. Oh, the river walk in San Antonio! And here’s when we were in France.
The room felt different now, heavy with the sound of Joe’s labored breathing. His uncle’s face was puffy, and he appeared to be sleeping.
Bryce hesitated in the doorway.
“Joe? We’re here,” Lucas said. He went to his uncle’s bedside and took his hand, gesturing for Bryce to come closer. Bryce stayed put.
“Hi,” Joe whispered. He opened his eyes with effort, and saw Bryce. “Hi, honey-boy,” he said.
Bryce took a shuddering breath. “Hey, Dad.”
“Come on over here,” Joe said, and Bryce obeyed, tears sliding down his face.
“Oh, Dad. Please don’t die.” There was a note of panic in his voice, poor kid. Bryce sat down in the bedside chair and took his father’s hand.
“I’m sorry about this, son,” Joe whispered. There was a rattle in his breathing now.
Lucas moved to Joe’s other side and put a hand on his shoulder. “What can we do for you, Joe?” he asked.
He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to his own father, but he was here now.
His uncle looked up. “Lucas...” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Would you mind...leaving Bryce and me alone?”
Lucas blinked. He glanced at his cousin, who was sobbing softly, his head on his father’s arm. “Um...sure. Of course.” He paused, leaned down and kissed his uncle’s forehead. “Thank you, Joe,” he whispered. “For taking me in.”
But Joe’s eyes were on his son, and so Lucas had nothing left to do but obey, the door wheezing shut behind him.
The hallway was dark and quiet. A nurse went by, her eyes kind.
He could call Colleen. She’d wait with him.
He had no one else, after all.
Instead, he just stood there. After a while, he sat, looking at the closed door, and it was hard to breathe because of the pain in his chest, like a cold, thick spike had been driven through it.
He’d call Steph after it was over. Didi, too, and Ellen. He’d do what needed to be done, what Joe had asked him to do, and then he wanted to leave this little town and not come back, because all he’d ever been here was an outsider, an impostor.
Except with Colleen.
The door opened, and Lucas lurched to his feet.
“He’s gone,” Bryce said. “He’s really gone.”
He burst into racking sobs, and Lucas opened his arms and hugged his cousin.
He could see Joe in the bed, undeniably still.
“I got to tell him about my job,” Bryce wept, “and he said he was proud of me, and I was an entrepreneur, like him, and I’d do great.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
“You know what else he said?” Bryce said wetly, pulling back to mop his face.
“What’s that, buddy?”
“He said I was everything he ever hoped for in a son.” Bryce’s face crumpled again.
“Hi,” said the kindly nurse. “Do you need some more time with your dad, boys?”
“He’s my dad,” Bryce corrected. “Not his.”
And that about summed it up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
COLLEEN HAD JUST come out of the shower and was contemplating a binge of Ben & Jerry’s to help resist the urge to call Lucas. He had shit going on and didn’t need her bugging him with stupid texts like Thinking of you! or Hey, wanna come over? And it was 1:33 a.m. He could well be asleep, and it had hurt her heart to see how tired he looked earlier.
Yep. Ben & Jerry’s it was, the only two men who’d never let her down. Vanilla Heath Bar, or Peanut Brittle? Peanut Brittle it was, the crystal meth of the ice cream world. She’d bought eleven pints last week, terrified that Faith would hit the market first and clean them out.
Rufus lumbered to his feet. Ah rah! Ah rah! Ah rooroo rah! he bellowed in his mighty baritone. Sure enough, a knock came at the door.
She tossed the ice cream back in the freezer and opened the door.
It was Lucas, and those pirate eyes were unbearably sad.
“Oh, honey,” she said, and wrapped her arms around him because it was written all over his face.
“He’s gone,” Lucas said. He let her hold him, but he seemed...lost.
Ah rah! Ah rah roo! her beastie said.
“Come in,” she murmured. “Are you hungry? Want a drink?”
“No. Colleen—” He stopped. She waited.
He didn’t continue.
Rufus, however, began his typical “are you a boy or a girl” investigation. “Okay, Rufus, no. Go away, boy.”
Her dog obeyed. Lucas, however, just stood there.
Shit. A white-hot brand of fear and guilt rammed through her heart. He knew. Oh, sphincter, he knew. Maybe she should’ve told him before, but—
“I need to tell you something.”
She swallowed, her throat so dry it clacked. She wished she was wearing something other than a Tweety Bird T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.
“Um...want to sit down?”
“No.” He just looked at her, then rather shockingly cupped her face in his hands. “Colleen...the only thing that’s ever really been mine is you.”
God. The words hit her like a sledgehammer. A good sledgehammer. “Oh, Spaniard,” she whispered.
“When I was a kid, I only remember my mom being sick, and then my dad worked all the time, and Steph was always out with some guy. And then when I came to live with Didi and Joe—” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I didn’t belong there, and Didi made sure I knew it.”
“Lucas,” Colleen whispered, tears slipping out of her eyes. “I know Joe loved you.”
“He sent me out of the room tonight. At the end.”
No. No, that was just not fair. Oh, Joe, why did you do that?
“I always thought if I was...good enough, quiet enough or helpful enough, I’d earn a place, you know? But I didn’t. And then it hit me, hard...the only thing I’ve ever had that was really mine was you, Colleen. Bryce got everything handed to him, he had a home and parents who loved him and did everything for him, but once I met you, it didn’t matter. I had you. You were everything to me, and I ruined it.”
