18. Luke
CHAPTER 18
Luke
There is good news, bad news, and horrible news.
The good news is the couple that insisted on meeting my dad, by some miracle, decided they were crazy enough to place an offer on the house. I couldn’t believe it, the real estate agent couldn’t believe it, but this is what they want.
The bad news is they would only purchase it under one condition: We would need to rip off the awful floral wallpaper that screams 1960s murder house. With all the excitement I had when I received the phone call, I drove my truck from the university straight to Grandma’s place to get a head start. That shit is glued to every inch of the interior wall—from the entryway down to the basement.
Which brings us to the horrible news. In the midst of everything, I forgot to tell Gigi all about it. Only now, standing in my living room do I see all her missed calls and her texts asking me about my whereabouts.
Horrible, negligent husband. I know. I promise I’m not. I was just balls deep in my picture-it-Luke-and-don’t-let-anything-ruin-it trance.
I gently close our bedroom door, fully scared that Gigi’s going to go apeshit on me. A breath of relief escapes me when I hear her soft snores instead. Tiptoeing my way around, I drop my baseball cap, wallet, and keys on top of the dresser before grabbing a fresh set of clean clothes and head for a hot shower.
As the water washes the sweat away, I calculate the money that we’re going to have from the sale. It’s not much; it’s not a mansion, but it’s going to be enough for a lot of things. A second car, car seats, medical bills, as well as some savings for us. I also want to put some money aside for Becca. And maybe, if I get some form of a scholarship again, I can even afford to still do a master’s program, after all. With my grades slipping when Andrew just killed himself, my GPA doesn’t qualify for me to apply for full-ride scholarships anymore.
Our lives will only be marginally better than they are now, and Gigi and I would still need to be penny pinchers if I do go through with it, but I would be better equipped to provide for my family once I have a higher degree under my belt. Besides, after her academic time off, as she likes to call it, Gigi still has two and a half more years of college to go. Ravensfield doesn’t have a business district. It doesn’t have anything at all, really. Just lots of students. This way, Gigi and I will still be together in college until we’re both done. No commuting to go to work.
It’s true what people say. Your best thinking is done in the shower. The moment the water stops running, a fantastic idea pops into my brain, and just like that, I have a one-track mind.
If I continue working for the university and go to my shifts at The Wilted Flower, we won’t need to live like we’re broke college students until we’re both done here.
A small sacrifice in the now for a better future. Gigi was really onto something with all her planning and organizing, and ever since I found out about the twins, it’s like my ass has been lit on fire and I’m finally catching on the bug.
I enter the bedroom to find my wife half-awake. She’s sitting down with her back propped on a pillow, her arms on her belly.
“What’s wrong?” My protective instinct goes into overdrive at the sight.
“Nothing,” she answers in a raspy, sleepy voice. “They’re kicking. That’s all.” She flashes me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes as I dip into the mattress and sit beside her. “Where were you?”
I want to feel guilty right now, but my happiness wins and before I can temper myself, I start grinning. “The Sinclairs want to buy the house, Gi.”
Her jaw slacks. “No way!”
“Uh-huh,” I answer, still smiling. “They wanted the wallpaper gone, though. That’s what I was doing.” I kiss her belly before meeting her eyes again. “Sorry. Didn’t check my phone.”
“That’s so, so great,” she squeals, giving me a hug. “Now you won’t have to work so much anymore. I hate seeing you tired all the time.” I’m about to tell her that’s not true because I took a page out of her book and came up with a three-year plan for us, but then Gigi starts rambling. “I had a really good day, too. I met Zach on campus when we were supposed to go to our lunch date.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask. Shit. I totally forgot I stood her up. “What did you guys do?”
“We hung out a bit. It was so nice, Luke. With Zoey being gone, I was so afraid I’d have no one to talk to about things. Zach is surprisingly a good listener.”
“What did you guys talk about?”
“Everything, but we mostly talked about Andrew. I told him about the video and what I thought about it and how I felt. He has some really good?—”
“Whoa.” I put some distance between us, already feeling the tension slowly creeping into the room. “Back up. What did you tell him about the video?”
Gigi looks at me uncertain, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head to the side. “Everything?”
“What the fuck do you mean by everything?” Gone is the happy Luke that came in here and kissed her bump.
“Was I not supposed to?” she asks warily. “I mean, you already told him parts of it when we had the potluck dinner the night Kai and Zoey fought.”
She’s not wrong. I did. I omitted the part about Uncle Mike, though. He’s a vile human being, but a part of me, for some unknown reason, doesn’t want people to know him like that.
It’s because he was a father figure to you, Luke. He took care of you. He guided you. He helped you find scholarships and fill out college applications. He’s still doing all of those things for your baby sister.
“And you didn’t think you should talk to me first before revealing things about my family?” My tone is laced with anger now. There’s so much of it I feel my body heating up, despite the fact that it’s almost midnight and it’s the end of January. “I don’t trust him not to blab his mouth.”
“I didn’t?—”
“Didn’t what?” I snap. “Didn’t use your brain?” I’m going to pay for this one.
Gigi chews her bottom lip, her eyes shimmering like a kaleidoscope of guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. He’s our friend and you already told him a big chunk of it. But yeah, I guess it’s not my place to say anything.”
Memories flash of people gossiping about the fire that happened during my birthday when I was twelve. Another long buried one about kids making fun of me behind my back bubbles up to the surface. Shame that I have long forgotten, the one that started when Dad became a secret drunk also makes an appearance. I know that Uncle Mike deserves to pay for what he did. This is life, and the other shoe will most likely drop at some point. But a part of me just wants to pretend that it won’t, at least not now.
I scoff when I remember who Gigi was in high school. A popular cheerleader. Her parents are good people, too. She doesn’t know what it feels like to be humiliated like that.
She does, Luke. Remember Andrew? Remember how he died?
Despite what my rational brain is telling me, the part of me that’s aware there will soon be nothing good left of the Palmer legacy is devastated that Gigi chose to share that information with Zach. It feels like a betrayal to me. To Andrew. To her newly adopted last name.
“You’re right,” I answer harshly, in a tone I haven’t used on her in a long time. “It’s not your fucking place.”
I’m going to pay for this one. I’m just too upset to care about it right now.