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CHAPTERTHREE
LUCAS
“Areyou sure you don’t mind going out to look at it?”
I'm busy measuring a piece of wood in order to finish fixing this section of roof that was ripped off during the last snowstorm we had. There's another one coming in a few days and if I don't take care of this now, there's absolutely no telling when I might get another chance. "Sure," I answer off-handedly. "I'll get out there as soon as I can, but it might be a few days."
She tucks her arms into herself, trying to ward off the cold and wind. “I appreciate it, Lucas. A friend will be staying out there for a few weeks and I don’t want her to be dealing with possible busted pipes.”
I wonder who she's got staying that she won't mention their name. Old me, who had time to converse with others, who knew how to take a few hours off from my workload, he would be asking. But things have changed, and I'm not the same person I used to be. "Yeah, I'll let you know if there need to be repairs made."
“You’re the best.”
I’m the only, these days. Most anyone else who was in the construction business has packed up and left Blizzard Bluff. The summers are too short and the winters way too harsh. I’m keeping the family business afloat, but only barely. Every single day it feels like I’m failing, but I still get up and do what needs to be done. It’s hard to get workers, and more often than not, I’m doing most of the work. “Go on, I’ll text you to get the details. No sense in the both of us out here freezing. It’s gonna start raining soon.”
She gives me a grateful look and then runs to her SUV.
“Shit…” I sigh before heading back up on the ladder. I can’t believe someone tracked me down at my mom’s house, but I guess people will do what they have to. Left to an hour of uninterrupted work, I get the roof fixed, and head down the ladder. As soon as my boots hit the hard-packed snow, Mom is on the front porch, her voice loud in the quiet around us.
“Luke, come in here and get some food.”
To be clear, I willneversay no to my mom’s cooking. “Be right there, let me put my tools up.”
Walking over to my truck, I take note of the setting sun on the horizon. The sky is blues and pinks - a true cotton candy if I've ever seen one. As beautiful as it is, it's a warning of things to come. Weather is on the way. The tightening of my neck is anticipating a migraine, because with weather comes more work. There's a change in the air today, and maybe even in me. The wind is high, but everything else seems still. As if the world is preparing to unleash on us. I just hope I'm ready for whatever it may be.
After stowing my gear in my truck, I turn back to the house. I’m hit with a punch to the gut. Things that have been the same since I was a little kid have changed. Mom’s moved things around inside the house, things that were previously only ever moved so that the floor underneath it could be cleaned. From my vantage point, I used to be able to see dad’s favorite chair, and the ottoman he kicked his feet on every night.
Now, I see the twinkling lights of a Christmas tree, with nothing beside it. Just another sign of the changing times.
This hurts.
Worse than I ever thought it could be.
Once inside, I take off my heavy coat and toe off my boots. I have to ask, otherwise I won’t be able to live with myself. Since he died, I’ve found I’m much more direct. Gone is the playful way I used to speak to others previously. Now I prefer to get to the point, I no longer believe in wasting time, since we’re completely unsure of how much we have left. Heading to the kitchen, I nod toward where Dad’s chair used to sit. “Did you decide to change some stuff up?”
Her eyes mist over, the way they have so often in the six months since he’s been gone. “It was time,” she shrugs, sighing heavily. Almost implying I should understand, and I should, but it’s fucking hard. Going on without the people we’ve looked up to for our lives is bullshit, but I know I’m not the first person who has had to deal with a loss. It just plain sucks. “That chair and ottoman have been on their last legs for years. With your niece and nephew, we really needed more room.”
A year ago my older brother married a woman with two children, and while those two have been one of the only things to keep me going since dad died, I hate that she’s using them as an excuse to wipe away memories of the man I looked up to. I’m finding it hard to argue with her logic though, afraid it will send her into the deep depression she was in immediately after he died. “You’re right. Two preteens are gonna need a lot of room to move around.”
I wash my hands before drying them on a dishtowel and then have a seat next to her. She reaches over, grasping my hand in hers. "I know this is hard for you. It's almost impossible for me, but Luke; life has to move on. It's what he would have wanted, and it's what we must do."
Sighing, I glance up at the spot on the roof I just fixed. "Doesn't make it any easier, knowing that you're right. There's so much I've wanted to tell him over the past few months. So many times I almost called him. When I have questions about what I'm doing on a job, when I want to know if I'm lowballing or being screwed. I want him to help me, day in and day out."
"I do the same thing, multiple times a day. It's not easy, especially when he was always my first call. Whether the news was good or bad."
Taking a drink of the beer she’s put in front of me, I roll my tight shoulders. Swallowing roughly, I wish desperately that things were different. “I’m trying. It’s a lot of pressure, especially with the business.”
“You’ve done better than anyone would have ever imagined, Luke. You put so much on yourself, and you make it work.”
By the skin of my fuckin' teeth. That's how I make it all work. On a shoestring budget and by the grace of god. She doesn't know any of that, I make it seem as if things are going along status quo. It's so far from that, we might as well be in the outer orbit of the earth. "Thanks, just doing what I can."
Every time I step foot in this house it’s as if I go back in time. I’m the teenager who was not only a wild card, but a bit of an adrenaline junkie. The one who had it all, but let it go in the blink of an eye. In fact, I let it go on the roof I was just fixing. Watched the girl I should probably be married to right now leave without a backward glance. Hell, my mother is putting my food on my plate as I’m deep in my head.
“You want some more?” She asks.
“No thank you, what you’ve already put on there will have me in the gym for an extra thirty minutes tomorrow.”
“You need to fatten up a little, Luke. You’ve lost too much weight.”
