#6--The Missing Father--O’Connells

by Lorhainne Eckhart

Owen stopped at his van. “You want to ride with me?”

  Luke took in his pickup and the houses around them, seeing suburbia, but something had the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I think I will.”

  Chapter Seven

  “So what exactly is this about?” Suzanne said. “Karen said you had something you wanted to talk to us about, and it sounded serious.”

  Luke looked over to Karen, who was opening a bottle of white wine on the island. Ryan was perched on one of the stools beside her, and Owen had joined him, while Suzanne was on the sofa, thumbing through her phone. Marcus stood in the middle of the living room, his arms crossed, giving everything to Luke. He found himself looking for Jack, but the man was nowhere to be found. He heard Karen pour a glass of wine.

  “You sure no one else wants anything?” Karen said as she lifted her glass.

  Suzanne lifted her hand. “Am I going to need a drink to hear this?” She was looking at him.

  He just tilted his head. “Seriously? Entirely up to you. Where’s Jack?”

  Karen walked around the island, barefoot again. “I told him we need to talk alone, and he said he had some things to do back at the office, so it’s just us. Why don’t you get to whatever you want to talk about, Luke? You said it’s about Dad.”

  Everyone was watching him. For a second, it was so quiet in the room that he could’ve heard a pin drop.

  “You know what I do,” Luke said. “There are things I don’t talk about. Well, I have access to the kind of information that isn’t available to the average person.”

  Marcus had a seriousness about him more and more as of late, just something that came with being the local sheriff, whereas Ryan seemed not to have a clue what he was talking about.

  “Something happened?” Suzanne blurted out as Karen handed her a glass of white, not something she normally drank. “Thank you,” she said before giving everything back to him again. “You’re making me nervous, considering every other time you come home, we find you unmoving on the sofa in Mom’s living room with your head stuck in whatever godforsaken place you’ve been, yet now here you are.” She gestured toward him with her glass.

  “He said it’s about Dad,” Karen cut in.

  He didn’t know why, but he slid his gaze over to Owen, who seemed unusually tense and added nothing.

  “What about Dad?” Suzanne said. He could hear the emotion and saw it the minute she sat up, stiffening. Marcus, too.

  “You ever wonder what happened to him?” Luke said. “I mean, I remember it like yesterday, that morning, Mom sitting us at the kitchen table before sending us to school, saying Dad was gone and he wouldn’t be back. It was just us now. I don’t know about any of you, but my first reaction was not to believe it. Dad and I were supposed to go fishing that Saturday. I even went out there to our spot and waited, but he didn’t show. I was convinced he would…”

  “It gutted all of us, Luke,” Suzanne said. “But he’s gone. He took off and didn’t bother with a phone call, a letter, nothing. Not even after all these years. Just showed how he felt about us.”

  He was a little surprised this was coming from her. Karen, too, gave her a sharp glance before dragging her gaze back over to Luke.

  “I didn’t know you did that,” she said. “I suppose we all have our secrets about that time. I knew I was Dad’s favorite. I hated Mom for a long time after. I was an absolute bitch, and you all know that. There, I’ll say it. I figured she drove him away, did something that made him leave us…” She didn’t finish, and no one said anything for a moment.

  “It wasn’t Mom’s fault,” Marcus said. “She’s the one who stayed. He left. But what happened? I mean, does anyone know? A man just up and walks out and disappears when his kids are asleep… I know I’ve run checks in my system, and nothing shows up on him. Ryan, you have too. I know you told me you’ve had your ear to the ground.”

  Luke knew Ryan and Marcus had always been closer, getting in trouble together.

  “Well, that’s the thing,” Luke said. “I’ve been using the resources I have available with the US military, which you should know reaches further than anything you would ever have, Marcus. I’ve found nothing, just dead ends. I asked myself, how is that possible? In what I do, there’s always a trail, no matter how small. A man doesn’t just disappear.”

  He knew Karen, Suzanne, and Marcus understood.

  “You’re saying he’s dead,” Marcus jumped in.

  Luke just shook his head. “I’m not saying that. I can’t say that for sure. In my line of work, people disappear all the time. You can be made to disappear or want to disappear. But then I found out that Dad didn’t exist before 1983. Then Raymond O’Connell married Mom. As I’m looking, nothing’s jiving. Then something came up in Wisconsin. It was flagged by someone I work with, who came to me, and next thing I know, I’ve got the CIA up my ass. My friend there did some checking and then gave me some bullshit story about how it wasn’t the right O’Connell and I needed to drop it.”

  He took in the way everyone gave him their attention—and then there was Owen. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was off about his brother.

  “Owen, I often wondered if you knew more,” Luke said. “You always had Mom’s back, and even when she told us, your reaction was different. You never reacted the way any of us did. Suzanne and Karen were crying, and Marcus and Ryan were shooting off questions about where he was, but you, Owen, you always said to drop it. You said he was gone, not worth it. A piece of shit, you called him more than once.”

  Owen just shook his head and then gestured toward Luke. “What do you want me to say? He left. It was eighteen years ago. Why are you digging up skeletons that are best left buried? Did you ever ask yourself, with all this poking around you’re doing, if it’d be better if you let it go? I mean, think of Mom. What do you think this did to her? She had to figure out how to do everything alone, and none of you made it easy on her. What’s this really about, Luke?”

  The way Owen said it had him pausing another second, really taking his brother in.

  “This here is about answers, Owen,” he said. “Don’t you want to know, good or bad, what happened? Because I sure do.”

  “No, actually, I don’t,” Owen said, but then his cell phone started ringing, and he pulled it from his pocket. His expression was tense, and he pulled in a deep breath and said, “I have to go.” Then he took a step, slipping his now silenced phone in his back pocket before dragging his fingers through his wavy dark hair, sweeping it back, flicking those O’Connell blue eyes toward him.

  He had been there for all of them to lean on. Sometimes he hadn’t been at his finest, but he’d always been there for them.

  “You know what?” Owen said. “Let’s just say I was once interested in knowing how a man could just up and walk out without ever calling, or writing, or stopping by. But that moment disappeared a long time ago. So my advice is to drop it. Don’t look anymore. Tell yourself whatever you need to tell yourself about a man who didn’t give a shit about his kids and his wife, but for God’s sake, stop this. And before you all leave here, you’d better figure out a surprise for Mom, because right now she believes we’re talking about a surprise for her, some gift. Come up with something, because if she knew what we were really talking about…”

  Owen stopped talking and took a step toward him, then another, taking him in and not pulling his gaze. There was something there that Luke couldn’t put his finger on: hurt, anger, betrayal, something. “You know when you poke into a nest of snakes, you get bit, and real bad. So stop stirring things up when they should be left where they are, buried, or someone is going to get hurt.”

  There it was, something in his expression as Owen stepped around him to the door and pulled it open. He stopped for a second before looking back. “I’m dead serious. Drop it, stop looking, because I remember how many nights I listened to Mom crying herself to sleep. She’s happy now, and every one of
you should want her to stay that way. This here…” He rested his hand on the frame of the door and shook his head as he looked out into the hall and back to them. “It’s bullshit. Talking about it and stirring things up will sure as shit have something landing on Mom’s doorstep. Consider that before you keep poking around. Ask yourself, if something was flagged by the CIA and they told you to drop it, maybe, Luke, should you listen?”

  Then Owen was gone, the door closed.

  Luke took in the shock, angst, and confusion on everyone’s faces. “What the hell was that about?” he asked.

  Marcus turned to him. “Don’t know, but something’s been off about Owen for some time.”

  Chapter Eight

  He was preparing to scramble some eggs, hearing the sound of water running in the house and knowing his mom was now up. He had slept surprisingly better, but it wasn’t lost on him that his siblings were all over the place when it came to their dad.

  “You’re up early. You made coffee?” his mom said, running her fingers through her hair. She was wearing her blue housecoat, her hair sticking up, and she ran her fingers through it, sweeping it back. He gestured to the full coffeepot as he added oil to the pan, then put some bread in to toast. Then he reached into the cupboard and pulled out a mug to pour a cup for her.

  “Thank you,” she said as she took a seat on a stool at the island.

  “Always up early, Mom. You know that.”

  She smiled as she took a sip of her steaming coffee. “You’re making breakfast, too? What a treat,” she added.

  He really took her in, small, sweet, tough. He didn’t know how she did it.

  “It’s not up to you to wait on me when you come home, although I appreciate it,” she said. “Kind of expected you to be parked in the living room in front of the TV.”

  He realized there was so much he wanted to say he was sorry for, how tough he’d made it for her, all because he’d been angry as a kid, carrying a chip on his shoulder. His dad had left, and whom had he blamed but her? He wondered if that was something all kids did, considering it was human nature to assume someone was at fault.

  “So you weren’t gone as long this time,” she said. “I take it this was an easy job?”

  He poured the eggs into the pan, and when the toast popped up, he pulled it out of the toaster and rested it on a plate before setting it in front of his mom with a knife and butter. “You butter the toast,” he said. “You know I don’t talk about what I do, but yeah, it wasn’t the same crazy shit I usually get sent to.”

  He reached for the spatula and scraped the eggs from the pan before tossing in some salt and pepper, then reaching for two plates from the cupboard, onto which he divided the eggs. He wondered what was going through his mom’s head. She’d been there for all of them and still was, but he wondered what had happened with his dad to make him walk out. It was between her and him—but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Owen might know more.

  “Got something on your mind, Luke?” she said, flicking her gaze up to him.

  He could see the curiosity. At the same time, he knew she didn’t have a clue what he was thinking, and he was glad for that. “Just considering some things, looking back on some things, you know, that don’t feel right. Mom, do you ever think back on things and wish you could change them, make different decisions?”

  She hesitated as she scooped more butter and smoothed it over the toast. “Of course,” she said, “but at the same time, not really. If I went back and changed something, I wouldn’t have what I have now. Where is this coming from, Luke? You out of all my kids are the least likely to go down the road of what-ifs, so what’s really going on?” She set down the knife on the plate as he settled a plate of eggs in front of her, then opened the drawer, pulled out two forks, and slipped one onto her plate. “Should I be worried about something?” She frowned. Her blue eyes seemed to hold on to so much.

  “No, just considering a lot of things lately,” he said. “I’m entitled to, you know. Can I ask you something?”

  His mom moved one of the buttered toasts onto his plate and then forked up some eggs. “Of course. What is it you want to know?”

  “What did you and Dad fight about the night he left?” he said.

  Her mouth was open, and instead of taking a bite of eggs, she put her fork down. He didn’t think he’d ever seen this expression on her face before.

  “Why would you ask that? Who says we fought?” She gestured toward him, and he didn’t miss the agitation. This was just something they never talked about.

  “I remember that morning when you sat us down around the table and told us. I figured you would have fought. You didn’t?”

  She stared at him and blinked, then opened her mouth to say something, but she let out a breath instead. “Why would you think that?” she finally said. She was evading him. He could tell by the way she looked to the side and how uncomfortable she was.

  “Now you’re answering my questions with a question,” he said. He took a mouthful of eggs and then set his fork down. “Come on, Mom. What’s the secret? He left, so where did he go?” He knew this was something Ryan, Karen, and Suzanne had demanded to know, and Marcus too, he thought, when they were younger. His mom just shrugged.

  “If I knew, I would tell you,” she said. “I have no idea where he went or what happened.” She played with the eggs on her plate and then put her fork down and pushed the plate away. “What is it you want to know, Luke? I realized that a man I thought I knew, after six children, was a stranger. One night, I walked into our bedroom after you kids were asleep, and he was packing a bag. I asked him what was going on, and there was nothing, no response. Then he left, walked out the door, and said he’d made a mistake. Is that what you’re wanting to hear? You want to talk about this? As far as I’m concerned, your father is dead and buried…”

  She stopped talking, and he just took her in. It would be so easy to tell her he’d been looking, because not talking about what happened was something he couldn’t live with.

  “I want to know,” he said. “I think we all want to know, Mom. It’s not to blame you, and I’m not angry at you, but how does a man just walk out the door and leave his wife and his six kids and never look back?”

  His mom fisted her hands and then glanced over to the clock on the stove. “I have to get dressed,” she said. “I told Marcus and Charlotte I would take Eva today. She doesn’t have school. Thanks for breakfast, and I’m glad your home.”

  She slipped off the stool, and he just watched her, knowing that if his siblings had any idea he’d brought their dad up, they’d likely be having words with him. Then his mom turned back to him and rested her hand on the countertop, smoothing it over. His cell phone rang, but he didn’t answer it. Instead, he didn’t pull his gaze from his mom. She likely expected he’d turn away and answer his phone, like he always did.

  She pulled in one breath and then another. “You know, I have to give you credit, all of you. When your dad left, I knew it gutted you all. We were in survival mode. I picked up a job at the hardware store, and then with the city, at the waterworks, one that gave me a pension so I could retire this year. But back then, working all day and then coming home to all of you, who were angry and blamed me for your dad disappearing… Don’t you think I blamed myself for so long? I wondered what I did wrong, where I screwed up. How could I not see something wrong right in front of me? All I could do was get out of bed and put one foot in front of the other, because I didn’t have the luxury of wallowing in pity. I had six mouths to feed, six kids who needed me, even though each of you was furious at me. You thought I’d done something. Now here we are, and you have questions…”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Luke. He left. If he wanted to reach out, don’t you think he would have done it by now? So no, I have no idea where he went or why. Everything about your dad is a mystery to me. Anything else you want to know before I go get dressed?” Her hand was pressed to her chest, and he could feel her
vulnerability and something else that he couldn’t put his finger on. Evidently, there was something she wasn’t sharing.

  “Nope,” he said. “Have fun with Eva today.”

  She strode away, and he listened to her door close and took in the nearly untouched breakfast he’d made for her. At least one thing was clear: He’d had questions about his dad before, but he now had that many more.

  He reached for his cell phone, seeing the missed call from Jess, and there was a message, too. He dialed his mailbox and listened.

  “It’s Jess,” he said. “You were right. I found something. Give me a call.”

  As Luke deleted the message and listened to his mom down the hall, he wondered what she’d say if she had any idea of what he was doing, looking for his dad. He couldn’t help wondering what she would do if or when he found him.

  Chapter Nine

  “Come on, Jess. Pick up,” Luke muttered. This was the third time he’d called his team leader, and it had gone right to voicemail.

  He paced the living room of the house he’d grown up in, taking in everything his mom had, everything she’d worked for. The modest furnishings were all her.

  He’d waited to call Jess after his mom left to retrieve the little girl who would soon officially be part of their family. She was a mother, a grandmother, whereas the man he’d been searching for had done nothing for any of them. So, again, why was he looking?

  “Hey, sorry about that,” Jess said as he answered. “Got some kind of crazy-ass shit going on. I’ve been trying to get a hold of Matthew. You haven’t heard from him, have you?”

  Luke was already shaking his head as he stood at the living room window, seeing his truck parked outside. Just then, the sheriff’s cruiser pulled up and parked in front of it. He took in Marcus as he stepped out from behind the wheel.

  “No, I haven’t,” Luke said. “What’s going on?”