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I nodded. “Sure, and also, just so you’re aware, Ford’s coming over tonight.”
“Oh, for dinner?” He brightened.
“No, just…to see me.”
Luke grinned. “That’s great. He seems like a really good guy.”
I remembered the column that had been in yesterday’s newspaper, and the fact that Ford hadn’t called or texted since he left early that morning. I’d decided to write what I would have written if I didn’t know Ford, hard as it was.
“At least, I hope he’s still coming,” I said as I got up.
The sugar high of my last iced tea was wearing off, and I was tired. I wanted to sleep for about ten hours, but I also wanted to be awake for my evening with Ford.
I went over to the counter and started a pot of coffee as Luke rinsed his cereal bowl and put it in the dishwasher.
“Why wouldn’t he be coming?” Luke asked. “And why are you making coffee?”
“The coffee is because I was up really late worrying about my asshole brother.”
He nodded, looking sheepish.
“A column ran yesterday about my opposition to the incentive package the Coyotes owner is seeking from the city for the new arena. I don’t think Ford was thrilled with it, and he hasn’t texted since then.”
“Then fuck him.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I said sadly.
“Do you really like him?”
“I do. He makes me feel…like everything about me is just right. I’ve never felt that way with a man before.” I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “And even if he shows up tonight, I guess…I’d rather not see him than to have him look me in the eye and tell me I disappointed him. That he expected my support.”
“He has no right to expect your support. It’s not like you guys are engaged.”
I sighed heavily. “What about expecting me to not be a vocal opponent? Is that reasonable for him to expect?”
Luke shook his head. “Your job is to be vocal and opinionated. He knew that going in, and he knew you were opposed to the arena.”
“Did you guys talk about that?”
“Yeah, we did. He didn’t say much. He was just telling me about how you guys met and how he found out who you were.”
I squeezed my hands into fists, angry at nothing and everything all at once. “I hate that he plays hockey. I shouldn’t have let myself have feelings for a hockey player.”
“Feelings don’t work that way.”
I felt my nails digging into my skin as I squeezed my fists harder. “No, but actions do. I could have taken different actions. I should have.”
“Hey, Elle?”
I looked at him. “Hmm?”
“Have you ever thought about the way you try to always be perfect in everything you do? You make good decisions, work hard, support charities, eat leafy green vegetables…”
“I try to be a good person.”
Luke’s mouth turned down in a frown. “You try to be perfect. And I think it has something to do with making up for me. Not being the kid Mom, Dad, Gram and Gramps had to worry about.”
I recoiled inside. Luke thought that? I’d never even come close to trying to be perfect.
