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The evening is cool enough that I get to wear a hoodie for the first time in months. It’s Luke’s, so it hangs past my wrists and hits my upper thighs, cozy as fuck.He’s never getting it back.
“How was she today?” I ask as we reach the beach. Betty wags her tail, shifting her feet back and forth impatiently as we slide off our shoes, leaving them in the sand to be picked up on the way back.
“My mom’s a little tough,” Luke says, reaching for my hand as we start towards the water’s edge.
“Isn’t that a good thing in this situation? Fighting to heal?”
“Not quite what I meant, but she is healing quickly. Prettybanged up from the car accident and exhausted from everything, but she should be out of there in a few days.” I squeeze his hand, encouraging him to continue. When he does, his voice is tight. “She’s a tough person to get along with. For me.”
He’s only brought up his mom casually before, mentioned she’s into astrology, that Skye looks exactly like her—which must mean she’s a curly-haired knockout, she lives in Ventura, and he occasionally drives out here to visit and fix things. The only other hint I’ve gotten about their relationship is that she hasn’t come to visit.
I stay quiet, letting him process as we continue walking in the wet sand, the edge of the water rippling over the tops of our feet when the waves roll in, occasionally splashing onto the bottoms of our rolled-up jeans. Betty walks alongside us, happy as can be.
“I never want to say anything negative about my mom.” Luke breaks the silence. “She’s tough in the good ways, like you said, and she got dealt a shit hand with my dad and Skye’s dad. They both left when we were still babies. My Grandad, the one who used to own a bar, was her dad. He did everything for her, fixing her car, keeping the house from falling apart, babysitting me at the bar almost constantly.”
“Sounds like he was pretty incredible.”
Luke’s smile is warm and proud. “He was incredible,” his smile fades, “and it was awful losing him. After he died when I was fifteen, mom didn’t have any help. So I stepped up. It needed to be done.”
The picture of fifteen-year-old Luke fixing cars and mending broken furniture slots perfectly into my understanding of him. Babysitting his little sister, who was probably four or five at the time, suits him perfectly too. It all informs his intense need to fix, care for, and meet my needs before I know they’re my needs.
“I never stopped taking care of Mom, and she’s angry that Imoved away. She’s acted like,” he takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully, “like I did it to hurt her. I should have done a better job of prepping her before I left. It probably felt sudden to her. She’s been lonely.”
“She doesn’t have friends?”
“She does. Lots of them. But none who know how to repair a broken floorboard or replace her brake pads. For fifteen years, she’s called and I’ve answered. Her problems were fixed. Now I’m two to five hours away, depending on traffic, and she feels abandoned.”
Does this woman not know how to google a handyman? Never heard of paying a mechanic?My cheeks heat, reflecting my rising frustration on his behalf.
“Mom went through a lot to make sure Skye and I were happy and healthy. She worked really hard to make sure we didn’t grow up and turn into jackasses.” He pinches my ass cheek then, teasing and lightening the mood a bit. “And now she’s hurt, physically, and it took me three hours to get here.”
Considering we were freshly post-coital on a hiking trail in Joshua Tree when he got the call, I thought three hours was impressive.
“At the hospital, she was trying to guilt me into moving back.”
He doesn’t want to say anything negative about his mom, but I sure do.
“That’s part of why I haven’t brought you there. And I just told her about you today,” he rushes to explain, “because I wasn’t ready to share. Wasn’t ready for her opinions.”
Balancing on my toes, I give him a sweet, soft kiss. “I’m not offended, promise.”
Dropping Betty’s leash and tucking his beer bottle into the sand, he cups both broad calloused hands around my face, holding my eyes locked with his. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.” I nod.
He kisses me again, andgoddamnI love this man’s lips, the scruff of his close-trimmed beard, his hands on me. I can’t believe I spent all that time hating him when I could have had this instead. A cool breeze blowing off the ocean makes me shiver, and Luke blocks my body with his until it passes, even though I already stole his hoodie and he’s only wearing a long-sleeved baseball tee.
We turn around and head back down the beach, quietly watching the sun dip below the horizon line of the water as we hold hands and sip on our beers. He doesn’t speak up again until we reach our shoes. “It’s a financial thing too, with my mom.” He steadies me while I knock the sand off of my feet. “She needs help sometimes. Another thing I took over from Grandad. I know she won’t be able to handle the medical bills, a new car, any of it without help.”
“Hmm.” There are so many things I want to say right now, but I doubt, ‘Doesn’t she have a fucking job?’would be helpful. “Sounds like a lot for you. How do you feel about it?”
“It’s fine. How it’s always been. I got my inheritance from Grandad on my thirtieth earlier this year, been saving for the bar for ages. It’ll be fine.”
“None of that was how you feel,” I say as we step back onto the street toward his mom’s house.
“You perceptive little thing,” he teases, tugging lightly on my ponytail. “I’m not sure how I feel about it yet.”
“That’s fair.” Squeezing his hand, I add, “I’m in your corner, whatever you need.”
