Chapter 6
6
L ucas pushed up onto his toes on the top rung of the ladder, hoping he could replace the damn shingle without breaking every bone in his body. His father, Greg, called up to him from below.
“Let me know when you’re ready for the roof cement.”
“I think I’m ready to call a handyman,” Lucas grumbled. “This isn’t as easy as you promised.”
“Ain’t no need to pay someone. This is a good thing to know how to do.”
Lucas moved halfway down the ladder to retrieve the cement then climbed back up to finish the job. “I feel like I used too much,” he said.
“You don’t need a whole lot of it.”
Lucas glanced at his dad despite his precarious position, noting how his father watched his movements. He exhaled when his feet were back on the ground.
His father clapped him on the back. “See? Job well done.”
Despite his earlier irritation, delight welled in his chest. His dad seemed to possess a direct line to his pride, and he could spark confidence with well-placed praise.
He invited his dad in for sweet tea, and Greg obliged, folding up the ladder for Lucas so they could store it back in his garage. As they walked back into the house, Lucas knew they painted a similar picture: same height, same dark hair, same carefree gait, same bright smile. Lucas’s brother looked like Greg, too, but Lucas knew that of the two of them, he’d inherited his dad’s energetic personality and penchant for storytelling—or as his mother would say, being the center of attention. They were always trying to outdo each other with jokes and anecdotes. “You’re just like me,” his dad was always saying.
His dad’s eyes sparkled as he took a swig of his tea. “I hear you’ve got a new job lined up, maybe,” he said.
“It’s still just an idea at this point.” Lucas took a drink of his own tea, a sugary treat he could drink by the gallon. “And I’m having a hard time imagining it. Leaving Louisville, I mean.”
“Ah.” Greg leaned his hip against the kitchen counter. Speculation crossed his features. “It’s an adventure, though. You should have those while you’re still young.”
“Age never stopped you.” Lucas smiled. “You trying to get rid of me?”
“Course not. Just don’t want you to regret anything is all.”
He wondered if his dad dwelled on things he wished he’d done. He’d always lived life on the fly, changing jobs on a whim and planning trips at the last minute. He was a flawed man, sure, had made mistakes, but a person like that tended to live without regrets.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve got time, anyway,” Lucas said.
Lucas knew what held him back, but it would sound absurd to anyone else. The pathetic truth was, he needed Joan’s friendship like he needed air. They’d never been involved romantically. Despite the skepticism from his other friends, he didn’t carry some kind of unrequited torch for her, at least not since they were teenagers. Sometimes you just found a person who made you feel whole, and Joan fulfilled that role for him.
To be fair, he also hated to leave his brother and his other family members, even if he wouldn’t be far away. He’d surprised himself with how much consideration he’d been giving the move. Normally, he made decisions in the same way his dad did, on excited impulse, and it sometimes worked, like when he’d decided to start giving pitching lessons to young athletes, and sometimes didn’t, like when he’d eaten jerky made from Carolina Reaper peppers on a dare. Not his finest moment, that. Perhaps the weight of this job decision kept him from making a rash move.
“Make sure you negotiate. Get all the particulars up front.” His dad set his empty glass in the sink. “I’m still mad at myself for that deal I fell into with Tom.” Tom had been his dad’s old friend, and the man had swindled him out of several thousand dollars after they’d started an auto repair shop together.
Lucas trusted most people, too. It was another thing they had in common.
“You coming to the game on Friday?” His family attended some of his games, though his dad usually missed for one reason or another. After a string of other inconsistent baseball-related jobs and coaching gigs, Lucas was lucky enough to make a decent living as a high school baseball coach at a large private school in Louisville. He supplemented his income with private pitching and hitting lessons. The jobs suited him well.
“Hmm?” Greg looked up from his phone.
Lucas rolled his eyes. “I asked if you were coming to the game this weekend.”
“I doubt it, actually. Sorry. I’ve got something else going on.”
Lucas tried to ignore the tiny twinge of disappointment that dropped into his stomach. He took his hat off to rake his fingers through his hair, an old habit that surfaced any time a hint of stress threatened. He could usually quell his negative feelings pretty quickly.
“Yeah, of course. Right.”
His dad pocketed his phone and stuffed his hands into his pocket. “Hey. I’m sure your boys will do great. They seem like a great group.”
Lucas nodded. He rinsed his glass out, startling himself with water that came out much too hot. He shook his fingers out, inexplicably angry at his faucet and at himself.
“You okay?” His dad started forward.
“All good. Just about burned myself there.”
They chatted a bit more about baseball before Greg clapped him on the back again. “See you soon, son.”
Lucas said his goodbyes, discontent mostly forgotten.