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Lucky turned to face me with wide eyes. “Exactly. It’s like tunnel vision. Like… you’re going through something the rest of the world has no idea about. And they’re sitting at home in their comfy recliner watching a football game or whatever while you’re doing chest compressions trying to keep a little girl from becoming an orphan.”
Our eyes met for a few beats while the unfamiliar feeling of connection drove hooks into me. Was this what it felt like to be understood? To open up and share feelings?
Lucky’s nervous chuckle broke through the thick air between us. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much in one go. Someone must have slipped you a Red Bull or something.”
And just like that, the connection was gone again.
Chapter 18
Lucky
As we walked around the lake, we talked about how the SAR course was going, how quickly Morrie had bounced back from his appendicitis, and how each of the other students was coming along with their skills. Finally, Zach brought up my dads again.
“I think they’d be proud of you, Lucky,” he said in a soft voice. “You’re really good at this.”
I looked up from where I’d been focused on the path ahead of me. Zach’s eyes were trained across the lake, but I could tell he was tuned in to my reaction.
“Thank you. I…” I swallowed. “I want to tell them. I’m just… I guess I’m afraid they’ll forbid me from doing such dangerous work. I can’t stand disappointing them. I’m not sure I’d be able to go against their wishes if they asked me to give up alpine rescue.”
Zach turned to face me. Crinkles of confusion marred his forehead. “Why would they ask you to give it up if you love it?”
I looked at him with a flat expression. He sighed. “I know. They worry. And rightly so. If you were my k—”
I clapped a hand over his mouth. “If you were getting ready to say ‘kid,’ I’m going to have to kick you in the nuts right now.”
Zach’s eyes danced as I pulled my hand away. “Alright. But I can understand why they’d worry. That doesn’t mean it should keep you from following your dream. Every parent worries. Why would you let that stop you?”
As we got to the end of the long lake, Zach stepped off the trail and led us through a few trees to the rocky scree on the bank of the lake. We sat down next to the water’s edge.
I picked up a twig and began twirling it through my fingers. “I never want to disappoint them or make them…” I sighed and looked out at the water again. “Make them regret taking me in.”
Silence descended between us, but it wasn’t awkward. I relished the quiet because it meant he was thinking over my words rather than jumping to the expected platitude about my fathers never regretting me.
Zach pulled his knees up and rested his arms on them. “Tell me about your life before Bennett and Xander.”
It was an unexpected question, but not an unfamiliar one. Everyone wanted to find out my story as soon as they met my two dads, neither of whom were old enough to be my biological father. Usually, I kept it fairly vague and basic, like a Spark Notes version of a classic novel, when in reality it was a gothic slog, like Great Expectations or something. But this was Zach, and Zach was practically family.
“I would have thought you’d heard about this from Jake already,” I said, drawing figures in the gray rocky silt with my stick. For some reason, the idea of telling Zach about my childhood made me sick to my stomach. The last thing I wanted was for him to look down on me with pity like so many people often did, even when I told the watered-down version.
He shrugged. “I mean, I know you’re from New York and your mom had some problems. And there was a boyfriend involved in kicking you out.”
I almost laughed when he referred to my mother as having had “problems.”
Remember, watered-down version, Lucky, my inner voice told me.
I shrugged and said, “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. She couldn’t take care of me, so I bounced around foster care for a bit and then I met Bennett and he reunited with Xander and I got my happily ever after.” I flashed Zach a fake smile.
His expression was impossible to read… until he frowned. “You’re the expert on this whole friends thing, so tell me, does it include lying and glossing over the facts?”
I blew out a breath. Damn too-observant Army Ranger.
“Fine,” I muttered as I began drawing circles in the ground with the stick. I focused on making the most perfect circles I could as I said, “My mom was a prostitute who figured hooking up with her pimp would be a good idea. Said pimp didn’t want her kid eating into his profits, so he made sure he didn’t.”
