Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Lucas
“ D inner is at four,” my mother says through the phone line.
“Don’t we normally eat earlier on Thanksgiving?” I ask as I walk out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist.
“Yes, but Adam and Sage are running the soup kitchen at the church in the morning, so I shifted ours to later in the day,” she replies. I can hear the whirring of a stand mixer in the background.
“Makes sense,” I say, running a comb through my hair.
“Are you bringing anyone?” she asks with a hint of mischief in her voice.
“Have I ever?” I reply flatly.
“No, but a mother can hope.”
The line is quiet for a moment. There’s so much tension in our family now and it makes the silent moments reek with it. As if the fact that our father is now in prison and our family has endured so much trauma in the last couple of years screams loudest when we’re not saying anything at all .
I can tell my mom feels it too, especially when she brings up her next question. “Have you heard from your brother?”
My mother and I have grown accustomed to talking about Isaac privately over the last ten years, so I know that if she were talking about Adam or Caleb, she would have called them by name. She’s asking about Isaac because while she has been in contact with him briefly, I am the one who talks to him the most.
“Last I heard, he was settling into his new apartment,” I say.
“He’s not alone today, is he?”
“I doubt it. He’s got his band and the guys at the record label.”
She doesn’t mention how Isaac has spent every holiday over the past decade without his family, so I don’t know how this one would be any different. Normally, he’d avoid Texas during the holidays altogether, I think, to avoid the temptation of joining his family when we’re all together. And on the rare occasions when he stayed home during the holidays, I would find a reason to skip my parents’ house and stay with him.
I would never deprive my mother of any part of her youngest son, but there is still a protective part of me that wants to put as much distance between all of them and him as I can.
“He’s so busy now,” she complains. “He used to call me more and send pictures, but now I get nothin’.”
“He’s not mad at you, Mom. He’s just dealing with a lot.”
“I know,” she mutters to herself. “I’m proud of him. I just miss him.”
Letting out a sigh, I realize just how much I miss him too. His dirty boots by the door. His Gatorade bottles on the floor. Hair products scattered in the bathroom.
“Oooh, sexy,” a voice calls from behind me. “Drop the towel.”
Spinning around, I stare wide-eyed at Sadie standing in my doorway.
“I’m on the phone with my mom,” I mouth angrily. Sadie snickers as she covers her mouth .
“Who was that?” my mom asks with excitement.
“No one,” I grit through my teeth, flaring my nostrils at Sadie.
“Sure,” my mom replies. “I’ll let you go then. See you at four.”
“See you at four, Mom.”
After hanging up the phone, I toss it on the bed, place my hands on my hips, and glare at Sadie.
“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” she asks, putting her hands behind her back innocently.
“You know it.”
“Are you going to spank me?” she asks.
Sucking in through my teeth, my palms start to itch. I certainly didn’t anticipate getting into this today.
“Yes, I think I will,” I reply, taking a step toward her.
She’s dressed nicely in a knee-length dress that hangs over her full breasts and hides her stomach.
Twisting her mouth to the corner, she wears the bratty expression so well, as if she was made for this role.
“You’ll have to catch me first,” she replies before turning and sprinting down the hall.
“Oh, you brat,” I reply with humor in my tone. Taking off after her, I don’t run but stalk her menacingly. There aren’t a lot of places she can go, but when she reaches the living room, she’s laughing, a bright smile stretched across her face. Using the couch as a barrier between us, she dodges my advances.
A throw pillow flies toward my head as she nods toward the towel still tied around my hips.
“Drop the towel, and I’ll let you catch me.”
With a lopsided smirk, I shake my head. “No, we don’t have time for that.”
She tries to maneuver around the couch to the kitchen, but I manage to catch her, hauling her toward me until her back is pressed to my chest. She doesn’t put up a fight and lets me hold her by the throat with one hand and lift her dress with the other.
When I lay a smack on her ass, she smiles wickedly .
“Next time, you’ll knock before entering my room, understand?” I mutter in her ear.
“I understand,” she replies. As she turns her face up toward me, our eyes meet, and we both notice just how close our mouths are. It’s an icy dose of reality.
I haven’t laid my lips on hers even once. Regardless of all the other things we’ve done together, I won’t let myself kiss her. It’s too intimate. Something about that act would make everything between us too real.
And after that morning last week when we felt the baby kick, it’s all been feeling far too real for my comfort.
I release her throat, and she moves away.
Just like that, we’re back to being distant and detached.
“You look nice,” I say after clearing my throat.
“Thanks,” she replies, smoothing her dress. “I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“Because I haven’t told them yet, and I think I’m going to do it today.”
“How do you think they’ll react?” I ask.
Inside, my stomach is turning with the thought of Sadie struggling through this alone or being berated by her family, but then I have to remind myself that not all fathers are like mine.
She shrugs. “They’ll be disappointed. My mom might be excited, but I’m afraid my dad is going to look at me differently.”
I swallow stiffly. “He won’t be cruel, will he?”
Furrowing her brow, she shakes her head. “God, no. Why?”
“No reason. I just don’t want you going alone if they’re going to treat you poorly.”
She chews the inside of her cheek and fights a smile. “That’s sweet, Dr. Goode. But you have your own family to spend time with today.”
I shrug. “Yeah, but they’re all at the church, so we won’t eat until later.”
Her demeanor perks up. “Wait, really? You can seriously go with me? ”
“If you want me to.”
A smile curls around her mouth as she nods. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
Shrugging, I add, “And you can come to my family’s while you’re at it.”
This makes her flinch with disbelief. “You sure you want that? They’re going to suspect…”
“Are you kidding? It would make my mother’s day.”
Sadie hops in place excitedly. “Okay, go get dressed then.”
Soon, we’re in the car, on our way to Sadie’s parents’ house. She laughs at the fact that I don’t need directions because I remember how to get there. That felt so long ago, the day she didn’t show up for class, and I was chasing her down like some lovesick stalker.
“You’re not going to tell them it’s mine…” I glance down at her stomach.
“Oh, God no,” she replies. Resting her hand on her belly, she stares out through the window of the car. “I’ll be honest with them. You and I are just friends, and the father of the baby doesn’t want to be a father, so I’m raising the baby alone.”
“Omitting the part about me being your professor,” I add with a hand on the steering wheel as I glance her way.
“Of course.”
I notice the way she’s wringing her hands in her lap. It must be terrifying to have to face her family and tell them something that could change their perception of her.
I’m reminded of the night Isaac called me, erratic and hysterical. He had just come out to our family, and after our father had called him every vulgar name in the book, he packed his shit and disappeared in the middle of the night.
This is why I keep my distance from everyone. I’m just not a family man. I may never understand what makes it so worth the pain they cause. The moment I was old enough to move away, I did .
And I swore I would never give anyone that much power over me.
Reaching over, I clasp Sadie’s hand in mine to try and calm her. Instantly, I feel her warm hands still.
When we reach her house, there are numerous cars parked out front, which I assume means it will not be a small, private event. After I climb out, I walk around to put a hand out for Sadie.
“I can get out of a car by myself.” She laughs under her breath.
“I can still offer to help.”
As she looks up at me, leveling a narrow-eyed expression in my direction, I know she’s about to say something cheeky and sarcastic.
“You know, you can be a really nice guy sometimes when you try.”
“I’m always nice,” I argue.
“No, you’re always controlling and bossy.”
“I can be both,” I say as I place a hand on her lower back. “Being so controlling and bossy is my way of being nice. It’s because I care about you that I want you to do better.”
She rolls her eyes with a huff. “Then you must care about me a lot .”
With a laugh, she steps up to the front door of her house, but I swallow down the reminder that I do care about her a lot, and most people would find that exciting, but it feels like a noose around my neck instead.
Sadie pulls open the door to her house, and the deafening sound of family greets us. We’re immediately ambushed by aunts, uncles and grandparents. Sadie has to tell them no less than ten times that I’m just a friend .
When we finally make it to the kitchen, Sadie introduces me to her mother. It’s obvious where she inherited her copper-red locks from. Unlike Sadie, her mother is tall and slender, with straight hips and thin arms.
“Mom, this is my friend, Luke. The one I’m renting a room from. ”
The woman puts out her hand. “So nice to meet you,” she says with a smile. “Thanks for joining us!”
“I hope I’m not imposing,” I reply.
“Oh, not at all.”
“Where’s Jonah?” Sadie asks, turning her head to look around the house.
“Picking up his girlfriend,” her mother replies, which makes Sadie’s jaw drop.
“His girlfriend ?”
“Yeah, she’s a cute little thing too. A cheerleader,” her mother replies while stirring gravy on the stove.
I notice Sadie’s expression grow a little uncomfortable as she starts picking at her nails. I subtly grab her hand to stop her.
“Hey, Sadie’s here,” a deep-voiced man calls enthusiastically as he enters the kitchen through the back door. He’s wearing oven mitts and carrying a serving tray with a beautiful, glistening turkey he must have been smoking in the backyard.
“Hey, Dad,” she says, her mood instantly perking up as she places a kiss on his cheek. “This is my friend, Luke.”
The man places the tray on the counter and pulls off an oven mitt to shake my hand. Although her mother gave her her red hair, Sadie resembles her father far more. Round face, big eyes, button nose, and a bit on the shorter and stouter side.
“Nice to meet you, Luke,” he says with a smile under his thick, brown mustache.
Sadie’s mother turns to appraise Sadie, who is standing with her back to the counter. From this angle, her dress lies against her frame, showcasing the round pooch of her stomach.
“Sadie, honey,” her mother says with a tilt of her head. “You’re putting on a little weight.”
Instantly, Sadie straightens up and turns toward me. There is panic in her eyes, but I don’t know what to do to defuse the tension in the room.
I consider blurting out something to save her from the embarrassment of having to do this right here, right now .
Before I can do anything, Sadie looks straight at her mother as she presses her shoulders back and proudly announces, “That’s because I’m pregnant.”
The kitchen falls dead silent.