Waiting On You
Page 56
The realization lifted a weight off her heart. Oddly enough, she suddenly felt fond of her father. That being said...
“I think you could do a lot better, Mom.”
“Thanks a lot, Colleen,” her father said wearily. “I think I deserve a little more gratitude, having raised you and put you through college, but I suppose it’s more fun to demonize me.”
“‘Demonize’ sounds cooler than you deserve,” she said. “No, Dad. You’re a man who doesn’t appreciate what he has, and thinks he has carte blanche to pop in and out of people’s lives when he feels like it.”
“Thank you for that assessment.”
“I have more,” she said. “You were a crappy father to Connor and me. You were condescending toward Mom, and you only paid attention to us when you felt like it, not when we needed it. And the second the Tail got pregnant with Savannah, all we were was inconvenient.”
“You were also adults.”
“That doesn’t mean we didn’t miss you, Dad. Even if you were an ass and remain an ass to this day. So far as I can tell, you have one redeeming quality. You’re great with Savannah.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Anyway, I’m just here to say hi. I love you both, even if you drive me crazy. Mom, let’s have lunch this week, okay? Get back to your disgusting hobbies, you two.”
“Wait,” Mom said. “Wait a second.” She was frowning, looking at Dad. “Colleen has a point.”
“What?” Dad asked. “What point?”
“For ten years,” Mom said slowly, “I would’ve given my right arm to have you back. I loved you, I missed you, and I would’ve forgiven anything.” She looked around the studio, which was so much brighter and cleaner and happier since Lucas had redone it. “But Collie’s right. I deserve better.” She looked surprised. “I don’t think I want you anymore, Pete. These past two weeks have been a little...boring, actually. I’m sorry.”
“Wait a sec,” Dad said. “All this renaissance woman thing you’ve been doing, the painting and the new clothes...I thought that was for me.”
“Of course you did,” Colleen said.
Dad ignored her. “I thought getting rid of my stuff and making this ridiculous studio was to get my attention, and you did, Jeanette! You succeeded. You’ve become an interesting woman, and I still find you attractive.”
“Dad, the thing is,” Colleen said, “she’s always been an interesting woman, and she’s always been attractive, dummy. You just stopped noticing. Come on. We can walk out together.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“I’ll see you around, Pete,” Mom said. “We’ll always be Colleen and Connor’s parents, after all. No need to be uncivil. Maybe we can even be friends.”
“I don’t want to be friends,” Dad said. “I want—”
“Dad, no one cares,” Colleen said, taking his arm. “Let’s go.”
* * *
HER FATHER CAUGHT up with her a week after Mom had dumped his scrawny white Irish ass, knocking on her door on her night off, just as she was digging into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. “Come in,” she said.
In the three years she’d lived here, he’d never been over to visit.
“Cute place,” he said.
“Thanks. Have a seat.” She paused the Bradley Cooper movie she had been about to watch (for the fifth time) and told Rufus to get his nose out of Dad’s crotch. The dog reluctantly obeyed, then trotted off to her bedroom for a power nap.
“What’s up, Dad?” she asked, taking a bite of the ice cream.
“I just wanted to say hi.”
“Really. Why?”
“Because, Colleen,” he said irritably, not looking at her, “I’m trying to be a better father.”
“How nice. I accept expensive gifts. Cars, for example. Islands.”
“Can you be serious?” He sighed and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Look. I thought I was a pretty good father, up until the divorce.”
“Up until the cheating, you mean.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“You ever hear that expression? The best thing a man can do for his children is love their mother?”
“No. But let me finish, okay?” He fixed her with a look. “I was always very proud of you and Connor. You were good kids. Smart and funny. I guess I didn’t show that enough.”
“True.”
“It was hard to know how to deal with you after the divorce. I was afraid you’d cut me out of your life completely, so I tried to get ready for that. Connor did it right away, and I was steeling myself for losing you.”
Much to Colleen’s shock, her father’s voice broke.
“I know I disappointed you, Collie. I didn’t know how to deal with it. Gail was pregnant, and I had to focus on that.” He bowed his head. “I was always grateful that you took to Savannah. Babysat her and all that. I got to see you that way.”
“Dad...” She cleared her throat. “You can see me other ways, too. We can have lunch and go for a run and that kind of thing.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Connor...he still can’t tolerate me.” Her father’s eyes filled with tears.
Colleen reached out for her father’s hand. “Keep trying,” she said.
“I’m very proud of you two. I really am.”
“Thank you.”
Her poor father. Yep. Poor Dad. Emotionally strangled by testosterone and trying to be fabulous.
Nice that he’d been force-fed a dose of humility, and by Mom of all people.
“Want some ice cream?” she asked. “You can stay for the movie, too.”
He gave her a grateful look. “Don’t mind if I do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THREE WEEKS BACK in Chicago, and Lucas was still edgy and irritable. Sitting at his computer in the apartment he’d lived in since the divorce wasn’t as rewarding as he’d imagined it would be. His desk was impressive, his Mac expensive, his chair comfortable. The apartment was immaculate, thanks to the cleaning lady who came in once a week.
But aside from the photos of his nieces and a few of their drawings on the fridge, the place was...soulless, and Lucas wondered how he’d missed that. The furniture was fine, the walls were off-white, the kitchen counters were granite. Everything was new and still rather shiny.
Not like the opera house apartment, with its hundred-year-old floors and the smell of bread from Lorelei’s Sunrise Bakery. And not like Colleen’s old Victorian with the tall, narrow windows and crotch-sniffing dog. And red couch. And soft bed.
Yeah. No. Best not to think those thoughts.
He’d left Forbes Properties for good; the only thing left was the building dedication, and who really cared about that stuff? Lucas was proud of the building and how smoothly it had gone up, but he wasn’t the architect, and he wasn’t the owner. He’d always love the Forbes family; he’d always stay in touch, but his time was over.
Steph would be working for his new company, which would finally get his full attention now. He’d already been approached about general contracting a senior housing development and a corporate headquarters on the outskirts of town.
But it wasn’t what he really wanted to do. He wanted, simply, to build houses for regular people. Steph rolled her eyes at this because of course the big money was in bigger properties—strip malls and shopping centers. But strip malls wouldn’t be the kind of thing he would proudly point out to a future son or daughter and say, “See that Dunkin’ Donuts and the Supercuts? Daddy built that.”
Not that he was going to be a father anytime soon.
The image of the meadow back in Manningsport kept inserting itself into his brain, usually around two in the morning. Where the porch would face, the way the deer would wander through the yard. How he could build a slate patio in the back so sitting out there, you’d hear the sound of the river that led to Keuka. The maple tree that would be perfect for a swing.
There was no meadow on a hill in this area; there was only flatness. And heat. Two months away, and the heat of the Midwest got baked into him like never before, and he found himself thinking about the nights in New York when it had been cold enough to sleep with a blanket to keep you warm.
Or a woman.
Or a woman and her dog, more accurately.
And then thoughts of Bryce and her would slice through that pretty image.
His buzzer rang, and Lucas got up from the computer. Crap, it was already dark, and he still hadn’t eaten. “Hello,” he said in the intercom.
“Hey! It’s Bryce.”
Speak of the devil. “Come on up.”
Lucas hadn’t heard much from him since the funeral, other than his shock that he was now a wealthy man. If he was smart (and Lucas intended to make sure he would be), Joe’s money could keep Bryce modestly comfortable for life.
He opened the door, and there was his cousin.
“What’s up, bro?” Bryce said, hugging him.
Bryce had brought a six-pack, which was a first. “Sorry I didn’t call. I wanted to see you. Just jumped in the car and drove to the airport, grabbed a cab here.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “How are things?”
They ordered a pizza (“Nothing like Chicago pie,” Bryce said happily) and opened a couple beers. Lucas listened as Bryce told him his plans for the future; he was getting his personal trainer’s license and was thinking about possibly opening a women-only gym (which would be a frickin’ gold mine, let’s be honest). Still washing dogs and finding them homes. He and Paulie were still together, really happy, having lots of fun. Didi was back in Manningsport and kind of a pain, always dropping by unannounced, but Bryce hadn’t given her a key, so at least she couldn’t come barging into his place at the opera house.
“Sounds like things are good,” Lucas said, clearing their plates.
“Yeah, so I might need you to free up some money from my trust fund,” Bryce said. “For the gym. I’m working on getting a business plan. Paulie and her dad are helping me, and you’re smart about that stuff. Maybe you could take a look?”
“You bet,” Lucas said.
“Thanks.” His cousin paused. “So about...you know. Colleen. You over that, dude?”
Lucas looked at his beer and didn’t answer for a minute. “Did it ever occur to you that...” He broke off. That I loved her, he’d been about to say.
Bryce gave a sad smile. “Yeah. It occurred to me. But you were gone and married and living the life, right? And Colleen and I were still in Manningsport, and the thing was, I always liked her, from high school on. I mean, I’m a straight guy. Straight guys love Colleen. Gay guys, too, probably.”
“So you had no problem taking her to bed.”
Bryce sat back in the leather chair and looked at him. “You ever wonder what it was like to be your cousin? You were the smart one. The cool one. You were from the South Side, and that was all my dad ever talked about, the good old days, life in Chicago. I was some spoiled kid from the ’burbs.”
“My life wasn’t really that great, Bryce. Mother dead, father in prison, remember?”
“And still you were better at everything. I don’t know if you remember that first day of school in Manningsport, walking into that classroom. And there was the prettiest girl in town, and she was staring at you like she’d been blind up until that second.”
Lucas remembered, all right.
“She was the one mistake you made, wasn’t she? Leaving her, marrying Ellen?”
He didn’t answer.
“I think you could do a lot better, Mom.”
“Thanks a lot, Colleen,” her father said wearily. “I think I deserve a little more gratitude, having raised you and put you through college, but I suppose it’s more fun to demonize me.”
“‘Demonize’ sounds cooler than you deserve,” she said. “No, Dad. You’re a man who doesn’t appreciate what he has, and thinks he has carte blanche to pop in and out of people’s lives when he feels like it.”
“Thank you for that assessment.”
“I have more,” she said. “You were a crappy father to Connor and me. You were condescending toward Mom, and you only paid attention to us when you felt like it, not when we needed it. And the second the Tail got pregnant with Savannah, all we were was inconvenient.”
“You were also adults.”
“That doesn’t mean we didn’t miss you, Dad. Even if you were an ass and remain an ass to this day. So far as I can tell, you have one redeeming quality. You’re great with Savannah.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Anyway, I’m just here to say hi. I love you both, even if you drive me crazy. Mom, let’s have lunch this week, okay? Get back to your disgusting hobbies, you two.”
“Wait,” Mom said. “Wait a second.” She was frowning, looking at Dad. “Colleen has a point.”
“What?” Dad asked. “What point?”
“For ten years,” Mom said slowly, “I would’ve given my right arm to have you back. I loved you, I missed you, and I would’ve forgiven anything.” She looked around the studio, which was so much brighter and cleaner and happier since Lucas had redone it. “But Collie’s right. I deserve better.” She looked surprised. “I don’t think I want you anymore, Pete. These past two weeks have been a little...boring, actually. I’m sorry.”
“Wait a sec,” Dad said. “All this renaissance woman thing you’ve been doing, the painting and the new clothes...I thought that was for me.”
“Of course you did,” Colleen said.
Dad ignored her. “I thought getting rid of my stuff and making this ridiculous studio was to get my attention, and you did, Jeanette! You succeeded. You’ve become an interesting woman, and I still find you attractive.”
“Dad, the thing is,” Colleen said, “she’s always been an interesting woman, and she’s always been attractive, dummy. You just stopped noticing. Come on. We can walk out together.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“I’ll see you around, Pete,” Mom said. “We’ll always be Colleen and Connor’s parents, after all. No need to be uncivil. Maybe we can even be friends.”
“I don’t want to be friends,” Dad said. “I want—”
“Dad, no one cares,” Colleen said, taking his arm. “Let’s go.”
* * *
HER FATHER CAUGHT up with her a week after Mom had dumped his scrawny white Irish ass, knocking on her door on her night off, just as she was digging into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. “Come in,” she said.
In the three years she’d lived here, he’d never been over to visit.
“Cute place,” he said.
“Thanks. Have a seat.” She paused the Bradley Cooper movie she had been about to watch (for the fifth time) and told Rufus to get his nose out of Dad’s crotch. The dog reluctantly obeyed, then trotted off to her bedroom for a power nap.
“What’s up, Dad?” she asked, taking a bite of the ice cream.
“I just wanted to say hi.”
“Really. Why?”
“Because, Colleen,” he said irritably, not looking at her, “I’m trying to be a better father.”
“How nice. I accept expensive gifts. Cars, for example. Islands.”
“Can you be serious?” He sighed and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Look. I thought I was a pretty good father, up until the divorce.”
“Up until the cheating, you mean.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“You ever hear that expression? The best thing a man can do for his children is love their mother?”
“No. But let me finish, okay?” He fixed her with a look. “I was always very proud of you and Connor. You were good kids. Smart and funny. I guess I didn’t show that enough.”
“True.”
“It was hard to know how to deal with you after the divorce. I was afraid you’d cut me out of your life completely, so I tried to get ready for that. Connor did it right away, and I was steeling myself for losing you.”
Much to Colleen’s shock, her father’s voice broke.
“I know I disappointed you, Collie. I didn’t know how to deal with it. Gail was pregnant, and I had to focus on that.” He bowed his head. “I was always grateful that you took to Savannah. Babysat her and all that. I got to see you that way.”
“Dad...” She cleared her throat. “You can see me other ways, too. We can have lunch and go for a run and that kind of thing.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Connor...he still can’t tolerate me.” Her father’s eyes filled with tears.
Colleen reached out for her father’s hand. “Keep trying,” she said.
“I’m very proud of you two. I really am.”
“Thank you.”
Her poor father. Yep. Poor Dad. Emotionally strangled by testosterone and trying to be fabulous.
Nice that he’d been force-fed a dose of humility, and by Mom of all people.
“Want some ice cream?” she asked. “You can stay for the movie, too.”
He gave her a grateful look. “Don’t mind if I do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THREE WEEKS BACK in Chicago, and Lucas was still edgy and irritable. Sitting at his computer in the apartment he’d lived in since the divorce wasn’t as rewarding as he’d imagined it would be. His desk was impressive, his Mac expensive, his chair comfortable. The apartment was immaculate, thanks to the cleaning lady who came in once a week.
But aside from the photos of his nieces and a few of their drawings on the fridge, the place was...soulless, and Lucas wondered how he’d missed that. The furniture was fine, the walls were off-white, the kitchen counters were granite. Everything was new and still rather shiny.
Not like the opera house apartment, with its hundred-year-old floors and the smell of bread from Lorelei’s Sunrise Bakery. And not like Colleen’s old Victorian with the tall, narrow windows and crotch-sniffing dog. And red couch. And soft bed.
Yeah. No. Best not to think those thoughts.
He’d left Forbes Properties for good; the only thing left was the building dedication, and who really cared about that stuff? Lucas was proud of the building and how smoothly it had gone up, but he wasn’t the architect, and he wasn’t the owner. He’d always love the Forbes family; he’d always stay in touch, but his time was over.
Steph would be working for his new company, which would finally get his full attention now. He’d already been approached about general contracting a senior housing development and a corporate headquarters on the outskirts of town.
But it wasn’t what he really wanted to do. He wanted, simply, to build houses for regular people. Steph rolled her eyes at this because of course the big money was in bigger properties—strip malls and shopping centers. But strip malls wouldn’t be the kind of thing he would proudly point out to a future son or daughter and say, “See that Dunkin’ Donuts and the Supercuts? Daddy built that.”
Not that he was going to be a father anytime soon.
The image of the meadow back in Manningsport kept inserting itself into his brain, usually around two in the morning. Where the porch would face, the way the deer would wander through the yard. How he could build a slate patio in the back so sitting out there, you’d hear the sound of the river that led to Keuka. The maple tree that would be perfect for a swing.
There was no meadow on a hill in this area; there was only flatness. And heat. Two months away, and the heat of the Midwest got baked into him like never before, and he found himself thinking about the nights in New York when it had been cold enough to sleep with a blanket to keep you warm.
Or a woman.
Or a woman and her dog, more accurately.
And then thoughts of Bryce and her would slice through that pretty image.
His buzzer rang, and Lucas got up from the computer. Crap, it was already dark, and he still hadn’t eaten. “Hello,” he said in the intercom.
“Hey! It’s Bryce.”
Speak of the devil. “Come on up.”
Lucas hadn’t heard much from him since the funeral, other than his shock that he was now a wealthy man. If he was smart (and Lucas intended to make sure he would be), Joe’s money could keep Bryce modestly comfortable for life.
He opened the door, and there was his cousin.
“What’s up, bro?” Bryce said, hugging him.
Bryce had brought a six-pack, which was a first. “Sorry I didn’t call. I wanted to see you. Just jumped in the car and drove to the airport, grabbed a cab here.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “How are things?”
They ordered a pizza (“Nothing like Chicago pie,” Bryce said happily) and opened a couple beers. Lucas listened as Bryce told him his plans for the future; he was getting his personal trainer’s license and was thinking about possibly opening a women-only gym (which would be a frickin’ gold mine, let’s be honest). Still washing dogs and finding them homes. He and Paulie were still together, really happy, having lots of fun. Didi was back in Manningsport and kind of a pain, always dropping by unannounced, but Bryce hadn’t given her a key, so at least she couldn’t come barging into his place at the opera house.
“Sounds like things are good,” Lucas said, clearing their plates.
“Yeah, so I might need you to free up some money from my trust fund,” Bryce said. “For the gym. I’m working on getting a business plan. Paulie and her dad are helping me, and you’re smart about that stuff. Maybe you could take a look?”
“You bet,” Lucas said.
“Thanks.” His cousin paused. “So about...you know. Colleen. You over that, dude?”
Lucas looked at his beer and didn’t answer for a minute. “Did it ever occur to you that...” He broke off. That I loved her, he’d been about to say.
Bryce gave a sad smile. “Yeah. It occurred to me. But you were gone and married and living the life, right? And Colleen and I were still in Manningsport, and the thing was, I always liked her, from high school on. I mean, I’m a straight guy. Straight guys love Colleen. Gay guys, too, probably.”
“So you had no problem taking her to bed.”
Bryce sat back in the leather chair and looked at him. “You ever wonder what it was like to be your cousin? You were the smart one. The cool one. You were from the South Side, and that was all my dad ever talked about, the good old days, life in Chicago. I was some spoiled kid from the ’burbs.”
“My life wasn’t really that great, Bryce. Mother dead, father in prison, remember?”
“And still you were better at everything. I don’t know if you remember that first day of school in Manningsport, walking into that classroom. And there was the prettiest girl in town, and she was staring at you like she’d been blind up until that second.”
Lucas remembered, all right.
“She was the one mistake you made, wasn’t she? Leaving her, marrying Ellen?”
He didn’t answer.
