He licked his lips and shook his head. “A phone, you say?”
“Don’t humor me, Reibeck,” I said. “If you really wanted to talk to me, you could’ve called me… or, in the least, sent a text. You know my number—”
“Just, curious,” he said, leaning back. “Who pays your cell phone bill?”
“Charlie—”
“And did it ever occur to you that he might be checking your phone records? If he’s keeping tabs on you the way I think he is, he’ll know the time and date of every text and call I send your way. And vice versa, kid. I’m already in hot water as it is; I don’t need any more grief from your uncle.”
The waitress returned a few minutes later and set two plates on the table. As she refilled Luke’s glass with a pitcher of water, the bell over the diner door chimed. She looked up and nodded at the latest customers to let them know she’d be over momentarily.
She looked back to Luke and smiled. “You look more like him every day.”
“What’s that?” Luke asked, raising his brow as if he hadn’t heard her.
“Your daddy, sweetheart,” she said, nodding behind him.
Luke and I turned to see Lonnie and Grace in the anteroom of the diner. Neither of them had seen us, so we turned back quickly and stared at one another.
Luke closed his eyes.
“You want me to bring them this way?” The waitress asked. “I can put them right next to you—”
“No,” we said in unison, but it was too late. Grace had already spotted us. She was dragging Lonnie—by a fistful of his sweater—through the diner toward me and Luke.
“Don’t lose your cool,” I whispered across the table. “But Grace and your dad are headed right for us.” Luke nodded, but kept silent. “Do you want to get the check and go? We can go somewhere else to eat.”
“No,” he said, resting his hand on top of mine. “The timing sucks, I won’t lie.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I told you I’d make things right with Lonnie… so, I might as well start now.”
Chapter Three
Saturday December 15
Grace and I had met on several occasions to discuss the floral arrangements for the Oakland Holiday Parade. Of the times we’d met, we’d never discussed anything outside of business (with the exception of the normal pleasantries). When Luke was brought up, it was only in discussion about the Grand Marshal float. As far as she—or anyone else—knew, Luke and I weren’t involved in any way, shape, or form.
Still, Grace had been the person to welcome Luke into their home the morning after the big storm in October. She’s the one who told him that I was upstairs sleeping in his old bedroom. She’s the one who’d welcomed him with open arms, despite the tension between him and Lonnie. So, in a way, it was hard to tell exactly what Lonnie and Grace Reibeck knew about Luke’s social life. What had Detective Bruno—Grace’s brother—told them, if anything? Did Lonnie know that the little blonde girl he’d swept off the ground, rescued from the storm, and sheltered in his home was (somewhat) romantically involved with his estranged son?
Grace forced Lonnie to the neighboring table before turning to us and smiling.
“What a pleasant surprise!” she said, leaning over to press a quick kiss to my cheek. “How are you Julie?”
“Wonderful,” I said, looking past her to see her husband. “Hi Lonnie.”
He looked up and nodded, incoherently mumbling under his breath. Grace shrugged and looked back to Luke. “Lucas, sweetheart, how’ve you been?”
Luke imitated his father, grumbling as he took a drink of his water. It was no wonder Lonnie thought his son hated Grace… Luke was acting as cold and distant as I’d ever seen him.
Grace and I shared a solemn sigh.
“Grace, Lonnie,” I said, taking my purse off the chair next to me. “Why don’t you join us?”
“What a lovely idea!” Grace said, now turning to pull Lonnie out of his own chair. Grace slid in next to Luke and Lonnie slouched in the chair next to mine.
“This is absurd,” Lonnie said, his eyes darting across the table.
Luke met his stare with an equally hate-filled look. “It’s not a walk in the park for me either—”
“Now boys,” Grace interrupted. “Can’t we just enjoy one meal together?”
“Not hungry anymore,” Luke said, pushing his plate away. He rolled out of his chair and stood up. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and threw a few bills down on the table. Snatching his jacket, he looked at me for a moment before turning to walk away.
“Luke,” I said, grabbing my purse and standing up. “Where are you going?”
“Stay here and eat, Julie,” he said, turning back. “I’ll see you around.”
“Luke,” I said, taking a step forward. “Come on, don’t do this. We had plans—”
“Don’t expect much else from him,” Lonnie said, finally making his words loud and clear. “Running is what he does best.”
I turned back and glared at him before looking back to Luke. “Please, Luke. I haven’t seen you in weeks. I don’t know when I’m gonna get to see you again. We were supposed to spend the day together—”
“Jules,” he said, dropping his head to the side. He took a few steps to meet me in the middle of the diner. He lifted his hand to my face and wiped away the tears that had fallen on my cheeks. His brown eyes softened as he lowered his stare. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”
“Luke—”
“I’m sorry, kid,” he said, tucking stray strands of my hair behind my ear. “I still have too much anger. I can’t be in the same room with him—”
“Please don’t,” I whispered, feeling the tears fill my eyes once again. “You have to fix things with him. You have to.”
“I can’t—”
“Luke—”
“Julie,” he said, the softness in his voice fading away. “Goodbye.”
He dropped his hands and turned on his heel. He was through the door and out of sight before I had time to blink.
Lonnie scoffed behind me and I turned to look back at him.
“You!” I said, taking another step back toward the table. “This is all your fault—”
“My fault?” he asked, looking from me to Grace, and then back to me. “How do you figure?”
I stood there, my heart pounding rapidly against my chest, staring at the man who’d scarred Luke—physically, mentally, and emotionally. My blood boiled when I looked at him, sitting there so nonchalant, acting as though Luke was the one to blame for their falling out.
“Let me ask you a question,” I said, bending at the waist to meet his gaze. “Where were you a couple of months ago when your son was laid up in the hospital with a bullet lodged in his chest?”
“Excuse me?” he asked, straightening his posture. He was quickly becoming defensive, and his body language said it all.
“When Luke was shot,” I said, widening my eyes. “I was at that hospital day and night for weeks. Where were you? I mean, you did know he was shot, right?”
“Read something like that in the paper, yeah,” he said, acting as though it was just another casual article on the front page.
“And it never occurred to you that maybe you should get in your car, drive down to the hospital, and be with him?” I asked. “He nearly died—”
“Looks like he pulled through just fine,” Lonnie said, still wearing an emotionless expression.
I leaned closer, now pointing my finger in his face, and lowered my voice. “Your son took a bullet to save my life. Had he not been there to protect me, I’d be six feet under and nothing more than a vague memory in this town. I owe him everything. This town… they owe him infinite gratitude. But you… you owe him more than the rest of us combined.” Lonnie pursed his lips, but remained silent. “I lost my father, Lonnie. A reckless drug dealer put a gun to his head and took his life. He left me, but not by choice. If he could be here, he would be. Because that’s what a good father does. And the
sickest part of all is that you think you were a good father. But you abandoned your son. You had a choice, and you let him go. You stripped him of his will and dignity… he runs because of you. So stop acting like he does this to hurt other people. He runs… so he doesn’t get hurt.”
I turned to walk out. I had nothing else to say, but Lonnie’s voice interrupted my dramatic exit.
“You might want to get your facts straight before you start tossing around accusations, Miss Little” he said, now standing. He took a few steps toward me and shrugged. “If you knew what my son put me through—”
“I don’t care,” I said. “I know what Luke told me, and I believe every word.”
“So he told you that he just up and left?” Lonnie asked, raising his voice. His anger caught the attention of the diner workers, and everyone turned to watch. “Did he tell you that he just left? No explanation. No note, no call. Nothing. And that he never came home? He didn’t bother to call, to check in. He just disappeared. It was like he vanished into thin air. Years passed… still, no word. I met Grace, moved on with my life….” He scoffed and dropped his head. “And when I finally found him, and sent him an invitation to my wedding, I never even got so much as a simple rejection, Julie. It wasn’t until three years ago that I’d even heard he’d come back to Oakland. Even then, he didn’t bother to stop by. Do you care to explain that, since you apparently know everything?”
I lowered my gaze and took a step toward Lonnie.
“I heard you had a bit of a drinking problem right after your wife passed, Mr. Reibeck.”
“That’s public knowledge,” he said. “But I got help. What’s that have to do with anything?”
“You want to hear an interesting story?” I asked. “It dates back to a few months ago, not long after I met your son. Luke was over at my house for my uncle’s annual poker night, and had one too many drinks with the boys. That very night, just before he left, he told me he loved me.”
“So, you and Luke are an item, big deal.”
“We’re not an item,” I said. “Luke was my mentor for a school project. Needless to say, we’ve always had a bit of a love-hate relationship. But the point of my whole story is, when Luke came to pick me up the following Monday to continue our project, he didn’t remember telling me that he loved me.” Lonnie shrugged as if my words were irrelevant to our argument. “He was so wasted, Lonnie… so far gone, that he said and did things that he wouldn’t have done under normal circumstances.”
Grace was now standing. She rested her hand on Lonnie’s back, caressing him and comforting him the best she could. It was clear that Grace had followed what I was saying, but Lonnie appeared just as clueless as ever.
“Your drinking problem was more of a problem than I think you realized, Mr. Reibeck,” I said, turning again to leave.
“Julie,” he said, now angry. “You’re not leaving until you tell me what he told you.”
“It’s not my place,” I said. “Luke made it clear that he wanted to fix things on his own terms. But I think it’s wise for you to remember that he’s not the one responsible for what happened….”
Once again, I turned to leave, but a hand landed on my shoulder to stop me. I defended myself out of reflex, turning and slapping Lonnie Reibeck square in the face. A bright, red handprint glowed from his cheek almost instantly.
We stood and stared at each other for a few long seconds.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Lonnie said, his face turning red as he inched closer.
“Why?” I asked, swallowing hard. “You gonna hit me back, Lonnie? Beat me to a pulp the way you did Luke?” The expression melted from his face. “At least this time you’re sober, so you’ll remember every strike. So… go ahead, hit me. Since hitting kids is what you’ve proven to be so good at—”
“Stop it!” he said, digging his fingers into my shoulders as he shook me relentlessly. “I—never—hurt—my—son!”
“Lonnie, no!” Grace said, darting forward to put herself between me and her husband.
I stood staring at both of them, undoubtedly a mess. I rubbed my shoulders where Lonnie had grabbed me, doing my best to keep tears from my eyes. My hair was disheveled, my clothes wrinkled and creased. I’d provoked him. I saw the look in his eyes… the one I’m certain Luke saw on the night that Lonnie struck him.
Lonnie’s eyes welled up with tears as Grace stepped forward to examine my arms. I shrugged her away and took a step back. And just as I turned to leave the diner, a police siren bleeped outside on the curb.
I glanced at the waitress, who clung to the telephone receiver, and then back at the Reibecks.
The bell over the door rang, and Charlie rushed in. His face was red and twisted as he stared between me, Lonnie, and Grace. He nodded at the waitress, who’d obviously called him in, and then turned back to me.
“Get outside,” he said, pointing back to the car. “Now.”
I walked past him and reached the door as he nodded at Grace and Lonnie. “Sorry for the disturbance. I assure you she won’t be bothering your family again.”
Chapter Four
Saturday December 15
There wasn’t much solace to be found in a 6x8 holding cell.
As I slouched further down the wooden bench, I rested my head against the cold, brick wall. I couldn’t stop thinking about Lonnie. I couldn’t believe I’d let myself cross that line. I betrayed Luke. I’d told Lonnie. The one thing Luke had specifically said is that he didn’t want his father to find out why he’d really left. He didn’t want to hurt him. And I screwed it up.
I could only imagine what he would say when he found out.
Dammit Julie, I could hear him yell. He’d twist his face in anger and hold a breath, biting his tongue so as not to say exactly what was on his mind. Can’t you mind your own damn business?
But this was my business… somehow…. All I could do now was pray that he would understand. He had to… what’s done is done. I couldn’t go back. And Lonnie needed to know why Luke resented him. They needed an icebreaker, and I was okay being the buffer. Maybe now they could talk, let bygones be bygones.
“Julie.”
Luke’s voice resonated. I hung my head lower; I couldn’t face him. Not like this. I could only imagine what he was about to say.
“Julie,” he said again, his voice softer than before. I finally looked up to meet his gaze. He rested his forehead against the opposite side of the steel bars. He wore a grin—and wore it well—and then looked away to suppress a laugh. A moment later, he turned back and looked down at me. “Whatcha doin’ in there, kid?”
“Thinking about what I’ve done,” I said, mocking Charlie.
When he’d shoved me into the jail cell—slamming it and locking it behind me—he’d promised that I wouldn’t be allowed out until I agreed to apologize to Lonnie Reibeck for publicly humiliating him. Apparently I was supposed to be learning some kind of lesson as I sat and thought about my actions.
Luke sidestepped to the door, inserting a rusted key, and turning the lock. He pushed the door open and motioned for me to come out.
“I can’t,” I said. “Charlie’ll freak—”
“Okay,” he said, coming inside. He shut the door behind him, latching it at the same time, and joined me on the bench. “So,” he said, a little rasp in his voice. “Whatcha in for?”
“Disturbance of the peace.”
“You guilty?”
“Of course,” I said. “How’d you know I was here?”
“Bruno called,” he said. “He couldn’t quit laughing. Said I had to come down and see it for myself.”
“Lovely,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“So,” he said, still trying not to laugh. “What exactly did you do?”
“I caused a scene at the diner.”
“Yeah?” he asked. “You want to elaborate on that?”
I closed my eyes for a minute and then opened them slowly. I watched Luke, studying the sadness in his eyes. He was c
alm now, but it was clear he hadn’t heard what happened… and I didn’t want to be the one to tell him. Because the moment he learned what I’d done, he’d be angry. He’d leave.
“I don’t wanna tell you.”
I looked away, but Luke leaned forward to steal my gaze.
“Why not?”
“You’ll leave,” I said, knowing there was more truth in that than anything. “You’ve mastered the art of running, Luke. And when I tell you… when you find out what I did….”
“Julie,” he said, taking my hand. “What happened after I left the diner?”
I lowered my head, refusing to say anything. When five slow minutes passed and neither of us exchanged another word, Luke dropped my hand and stood up.
“See?” I said. “I haven’t even told you yet and you’re leaving.”
He walked to the door. He reached into his pocket, pulled the key from inside, and threw it through the bars. The key slid at least ten feet down the hallway—far from reach.
Now he’d done it. He’d locked himself in the jail cell with no way out.
He turned back to me and shrugged. “I’m not going anywhere, Julie. Now tell me what happened.”
I spent the next fifteen minutes reliving the conversation I’d had with Lonnie in the diner. I told him every detail that I could remember—except for the moment when Lonnie grabbed me. I didn’t see any point in adding fuel to the fire. Luke was already mad. If he found out that Lonnie had touched me… well, any plan he’d had to make up with his father would cease to exist.
At this point, Luke was still standing. He leaned his back against the bars and watched me in silence.
“I’m sorry,” I said for the hundredth time. “I know you didn’t want him to know the truth, and I never meant to tell him. But I couldn’t stop talking. I was so angry. So... hurt. I couldn’t let him sit there and act like your life didn’t matter. He owes you an apology, Luke. He owes you so much—”
Just a Little Promise Page 2
