31. Luke
CHAPTER 31
Luke
The Whisper was all anyone in Tilikum seemed to be able to talk about. And it was driving me up the wall.
A shadow of fear hung over the whole town, and the gossip line had gone wild. Everyone had a theory, and the list of supposed suspects was as long as it was outlandish. Stop into any shop or restaurant, and there’d be someone ready to give you their take on it.
My personal favorites, for their absurdity, were aliens or Bigfoot. Aliens at least made a bit of sense, if you believed in that sort of thing. But Bigfoot? Apparently Tilikum Bigfoot lore had expanded to include creatures who drove cars and could use duct tape. They might as well have blamed it on the squirrels.
Melanie was staying with me, and with the exception of a rather heated discussion over who was responsible for the toothpaste splatter on the mirror—no matter what she says, I still maintain it was her—things were great. She slept peacefully every night, untroubled by nightmares. And I slept soundly, knowing the psycho would have to go through me to get to her.
Days were more tense. The third and fourth victims had been taken during the day. The Whisper wasn’t skulking around in the dark to hunt for his prey anymore. It made me feel like I had to be vigilant every time we set foot outside the safety of my house.
Our evening promised a bit of respite. My parents had invited us and Melanie’s parents to their place for dinner. There was something about the trek up the long gravel driveway that lifted the weight from my shoulders. No whispers up at the Haven homestead.
The sun blazed red through the smoky haze in the air as we parked outside their house. Melanie seemed more at ease, her smile relaxed. I took her hand and led her up to the porch and in the front door.
“Mom! Dad! We’re here.”
We found them in the kitchen, and the way Mom stepped away from Dad, her cheeks flushing slightly, made me glad I’d announced our arrival. I had a feeling we would have walked in on something I didn’t particularly want to see.
It was great they were still in love, but no one wants to see their parents making out.
“There you are,” Mom said with a smile. She held out her arms to give Melanie a hug. “Welcome.”
Dad scowled at me, obviously annoyed that we’d interrupted them.
“Hi, Marlene.” Melanie hugged my mom.
Seeing the two of them embracing made my throat feel a bit tight. I hugged my mom and tipped my chin to my dad. His irritated expression melted when Melanie gave him a hug, the big softy.
“Thanks for having us,” Melanie said. “Your house looks exactly the same, and I mean that in the best way. It feels so homey and cozy.”
“Thank you,” Mom said. “I’m so—”
“Knock, knock!” Krista’s singsong voice came from the front of the house. “Can we come in? ”
“Yes,” Mom called. “Come in!”
Melanie’s mom came down the hall clutching her hands to her chest and smiling, as if she couldn’t contain her excitement. Anton followed her, carrying several pizza boxes.
“Luke, you handsome man, you!” She grabbed me and planted a kiss on my cheek.
“Hi, Mom,” Melanie said. “Inside voice, maybe?”
Krista hugged her daughter, then made her way over to my parents. “Marlene! Don’t you look lovely tonight. Paul.” She held out her arms and my dad flinched backward, but her embrace was light and friendly.
Melanie swiped her thumb across my cheek, and I wiped off the rest of Krista’s bright pink lipstick with the back of my hand.
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
She just smiled.
Anton set the pizza boxes on the counter.
“We brought dinner!” Krista gestured like a game show model showing off the prizes.
“Thank you again,” Mom said. “What a treat.”
“It’s our pleasure. Or Anton’s pleasure since he did all the work. But he was happy to, weren’t you, honey?”
“Of course,” Anton said with a slight nod.
“There should be something for everyone,” Krista said. “We know Paul loves all-meat, so we brought one of those.”
Dad grunted his assent.
“There’s also a pepperoni and a margherita for something a little lighter. Mel, we brought a personal-sized fried pickle pizza just for you.”
“Doesn’t anyone else want the pickle pizza?” Melanie asked.
Mom was too polite to make a face, but Dad was not. He grimaced.
I leaned closer to Mel. “I think that one’s all you.”
She shrugged. “Their loss. ”
We all dished up in the kitchen and took our plates to the dining table while Mom poured wine. I followed my dad’s lead and took some of the all-meat. The toppings were so thick, my plate felt like it weighed ten pounds.
The Andolinis knew how to do pizza right.
Melanie’s pickle pizza, on the other hand, looked like a culinary abomination.
“I can’t believe you’re going to eat that,” I said as we sat down.
“Fried pickle pizza is one of my dad’s greatest inventions.”
“I didn’t invent it,” Anton said.
“Okay, but you perfected it,” she said around a bite. “This is amazing.”
He smiled at her and took a bite of his pepperoni.
“So how’s the pizza business?” my dad asked.
“Business is good,” Anton said.
“We just love it,” Krista said. “Everyone who comes in feels like family. Except the ones who complain. They can bite me.”
My mom laughed and Dad grunted his agreement.
“Although, things have been so tense lately.” Krista cast a worried glance at Anton. “Because of… you know.”
“Mom, maybe let’s not,” Melanie said.
“Sorry, sorry.” Krista put her hands up. “But if they don’t catch him soon, I don’t know what.”
“They will,” Dad said. “A guy like that won’t be able to keep it up for long without making a mistake. He’ll get caught.”
“Maybe he’ll move on,” Krista said. “Just disappear, and this will all end.”
“Or get hit by a train,” Anton said.
“That’d be too good for him,” Dad grumbled.
“Something slower,” Anton said. “Like a fall off a cliff that doesn’t kill him instantly. ”
“Bear attack,” Dad offered.
Anton nodded. “Or cliff and then bear—”
“Stop.” Krista put a hand over her heart. “Don’t be so morbid. At least not at the dinner table. We’re guests here. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Anton smiled at her.
“Yes, new topic please,” Melanie said. “Politics? Religion? Anything but The Whisper.”
“Anton, do you have any new pizza flavors in the works?” I asked.
“I’m always trying new things.” He glanced at Krista. “What was that idea you had the other day?”
“Oh, listen to this,” Krista said, gesturing with her hands as she talked. “Chicken and dumplings meets pizza. White sauce, chicken, peas and carrots, topped with little golden dumplings. What do you think? Discuss.”
Melanie shook her head with a soft laugh as a conversation about chicken and dumplings pizza took off. She glanced at me with a grateful smile and mouthed, thank you.
I put my hand on her thigh and squeezed.
Thankfully, the rest of the meal went on without the conversation returning to The Whisper. After we came to the conclusion that Anton could probably make chicken and dumplings pizza work, the topic turned to cars. I doubted Melanie was interested in muscle cars the way our dads were, but she leaned closer to me and put her hand on my leg.
After dinner, we brought our dishes to the kitchen. I was going to help clean up, but Dad elbowed me out of the way while Mom put away the leftovers. I stepped out of the kitchen and into the family room so Dad wouldn’t bark at me to move.
Melanie stood in the hallway, gazing at the family photos on the wall. I was about to ask her what she was looking at when Anton moved next to me and hesitated, like he had something to say .
A hint of nervousness tightened my shoulders. He’d given me a stern dad-lecture back in high school, one I’d never forget. Although her parents had been friendly, I wondered if they had misgivings about their daughter dating me again. I didn’t have kids, but if one of my nieces had an ex-boyfriend, I’d probably hate him by default.
“Take care of her,” he said, finally, his voice low. “We almost lost her once. Can’t let that happen again.”
“I will.”
He reached out his hand, and I shook it. His grip was firm, and he nodded once before releasing my hand and walking away.
Like my dad, he was a man of few words. But those hit me right in the chest. What must Melanie’s abduction have been like for them? To find out their daughter had been brutally attacked and barely escaped with her life.
Like a movie playing backward, events flashed through my mind, taking me back. Me and Melanie, still basically kids, cruising down the highway with the windows rolled down. The arguments, the fights, the blowups. Slamming doors and feet stomping away. Tires peeling out in her parents’ driveway.
All those moments had led to her being outside that apartment in LA. If we’d only gotten our acts together—if only I’d fixed things back then—she wouldn’t have been there.
She would have been with me. And her abduction never would have happened.
I let out a long breath. It wasn’t my fault some psycho attacked her. Not directly. But indirectly?
And everything she’d been through since. Her marriage to that asshole. Her divorce. Moving back home to start her life over.
All those years, all that time, gone. How much of it was my fault? How much could I have prevented if I’d done things differently ?
It was a lot to take in.
Ever since I’d finally admitted to myself I didn’t hate her—and that I might actually be in love with her—I’d left the past where I thought it belonged. Mostly forgotten.
But how much of that past was going to haunt our future? What was I supposed to do with all that regret?
Melanie had made her way to the front door, where she and her parents were busy saying goodbye to mine. Or more accurately, Krista and my mom were exchanging a series of thank you, we should do this agains , and other effusive declarations of mutual gratitude, while Anton and my dad waited patiently for their wives to finish.
I glanced at the photos where Melanie had been standing moments before. There was one with the six of us boys with baby Annika in the middle. Another showed all seven kids playing outside with bare feet and dirt on our faces. But it was a slightly more recent picture that caught my eye—one from high school.
It was me and Zachary posing in our tuxes on the front porch before prom. Melanie would have been my date that night. Mom must have taken the photo before I left to pick her up.
“Luke, you ready?” Melanie asked.
“Yeah, coming.”
Krista was still saying her goodbyes, but with a few soft words, Anton gently ushered her outside. I gave my mom a quick hug and a nod goodbye to my dad, then left with Melanie.
After hugging her daughter a few more times, Krista finally got in the car with Anton. Melanie and I got in mine, and she leaned her head back and sighed.
“I love my mom, but she’s intense. And yes, I realize that’s ironic coming from me.”
“Your mom’s great.”
“It would be nice if she could get her goodbye routine down to less than half an hour, but that’s probably too much to hope for at this point. At least your parents are easygoing. Mine don’t freak them out.”
“Your mom and dad aren’t as weird as you think they are.”
She laughed a little. “Thanks.”
I started the car and headed home. Melanie was unusually quiet. She watched the scenery go by with a pensive look on her face that made me wonder what she was thinking.
“What’s going on?” I reached over and twined her hand in mine as I drove. “You all right?”
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Lots of things.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, or if it were good or bad. But she didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so I let it go.
Still, the unsettled feeling inside me persisted. Even after we were at my place—in my bed—content and sated in each other’s arms, I felt it. The sense that something was not quite right, something was missing.
Something unfinished.
And I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about it.