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“My boy,” he murmurs, opening his arms.
Luke is gone from my side, heading for his grandfather, and I watch as they embrace, the old man smacking at Luke’s back firmly but affectionately. I melt. “How are you, Pops?” Luke asks.
“Marvelous.” He laughs, breaking away and taking Luke’s face in his old hands. “Bloody marvelous.”
“Good.” Luke lets his grandfather kiss his cheeks one at a time. “I’d like you to meet someone, Pops.” He turns toward me, as well as everyone else. Dozens of eyes all on me. My face slowly heats up. “This is Lo. Lo, meet my grandfather, Bert.” Sliding his hands into his pockets, Bert joins everyone else in staring at me.
I raise a hand and wave. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
The old man grins a devilish grin as he hobbles through the crowd of women, Luke by his side. “The pleasure is all mine, Lo.” When he reaches me, he literally hauls me into his chest and squeezes me stupid. I’m a bit taken aback, my arms coming up reluctantly and tapping at his back on a nervous laugh.
“Put her down, Pops,” Luke moans, prying us apart. “You’ll scare her off.”
“Nonsense.” The old man laughs. “We’re all about warm welcomes around here, ain’t that right, ladies?” He turns to the peanut gallery of old women, who all nod their agreement enthusiastically.
“Not too friendly, eh?” Luke warns, slipping his hand around mine. I look down and once again marvel at the warmth engulfing me. I’m lost in a trance for a moment, forgetting where I am and how I came to be here. I look up and come eye to eye with Luke. He has this inexplicable ability to extinguish all my sorrows, even in short bursts of time. However short, though, they help. So much. “Okay?” he asks.
Swallowing, I flex my fingers in his hold. “Yeah.”
Something passes between us, something significant. I have no idea what to make of it. I close my eyes tightly and drop my head, wondering if any of this guilt would be plaguing me if Luke were a woman. Would I keep swaying between shame and resoluteness if it were a female offering to distract me from real life for a short time? I don’t know. All I know in life right now is that I feel like me again. Normal. Carefree. It feels good to let go, even if only temporarily. My mind is a crazy mess, but one thought is crystal clear: it seems like madness that I’m always thinking I should force pleasantness from my life in exchange for grimness. These feelings and thoughts I have where Luke is concerned should be a far better option that my usual hollowness. Luke’s a blessing in my life. Is it wrong to accept that? Or is this something Billy would want for me? Not the angry, reclusive Billy of today, but the man I married. Wouldn’t he want me to not be alone throughout this godforsaken time? It’s probably why he urges me to go to work each day. Interaction. Living.
I’m brought back into the foyer of the mansion when Luke’s pops claps his old hands. “Welcome to my home, Lo.”
“Thank you.” My arms take on a mind of their own and wrap around Luke’s middle, and I feel the light pressure of something meeting the top of my head. His lips. Luke’s affectionate move doesn’t prompt me to free myself from his closeness.
In fact, his kiss reminds me of my dad, because that’s exactly how he used to kiss me, and I always felt safer and lighter when he did. Moments like these, I wish my dad was more involved in my life. He seems so far away in more ways than simply geography. But he has his new life now. Apart from an occasional text or call, there’s no connection anymore. It’s almost like in order to forget the tragedy of losing my mother, he had to disconnect from me too.
“Pops is quite the star here, right, Pops?” Luke says.
“Right,” he chimes, all happy with himself. “But not as big as my grandboy.” His bushy gray eyebrows hitch slightly as he nods to the gaggle of old ladies still surrounding us. “You come in here and steal all the attention away from me, Grandboy.” Turning on his heels, he wanders off into a room to the right.
I laugh now, too, letting Luke guide me after him. “Nice to see you, ladies,” he says on a smile that sends their old knees visibly weak. We enter an impressive lounge space, with many high-seated armchairs that are positioned in small clusters here and there, providing plenty of separate seating areas. There are more elderly people scattered around, some men and some women. I note a few of the residents in here are dozing in their chairs, some looking a lot less mobile than others. “Your grandfather doesn’t look like he needs caring for.”
