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HF02 - Forever After

Page 10

by Deborah Raney


  He rubbed his knee where he’d landed on it outside the station last night. It hurt, but at least he’d gotten through the night without taking any pain meds. He had to quit foolishly pushing himself—taking risks like that—physically if it meant three steps backward for every one he moved ahead.

  That applied to his friendship with Jenna, too. What he wouldn’t give for an eraser that could make last night go away, give him a clean slate with her.

  He limped to the door, steeling himself to hide his pain from his mother.

  He should have known better. Ma met him at the door. “What’s going on?”

  Lucas forced a smile. “What kind of greeting is that?”

  She looked pointedly at the take-out cup he held. “Since when are you in the habit of going for coffee at this hour?”

  “I … just felt like getting out.” He pushed past her into the kitchen, but his knee gave way and he caught himself on the bar stool at the high counter.

  “Lucas? What happened?”

  “Nothing happened, Ma.” He forced himself to look her in the eye.

  “Don’t you stand there and tell me nothing happened.” Nothing got by Emily Vermontez—at least not when it came to him. “I can see it in your eyes. Something’s going on.”

  “I banged up my knee a little last night.”

  “What? Did you fall?”

  “I’m fine, Ma. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Don’t worry about it?” She glared at him. “Let me see. What’d you do?”

  He brushed her off and took his coffee to the counter by the sink, doctoring it with sugar and creamer, his back to her. He grasped for something to change the subject. “So, you and Geoff going out this weekend?”

  “No.” She sighed. “He’s going to a conference in New York.”

  He smiled and turned to pat her on the back. “Poor Ma.”

  She laughed and playfully pushed him away. “Don’t act like you really care.”

  “I do. I just think you can probably live a few days without seeing the man.”

  “Oh, I can live. I just won’t be happy about it.”

  “Have you set a date yet? For the wedding?”

  “Valentine’s Day.” She beamed and shook a finger at him. “Save the date. Gina and Victoria are both coming home.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s not like I have a busy social calendar.” His tactic worked and she was off, chattering about wedding plans and shopping for new furniture for Geoff’s house in Springfield.

  Lucas smiled and nodded in all the right places, but his mind went back to Jenna. He hoped the Morgans hadn’t made things too difficult for her when she got home. Wasn’t there a proverb or a rule or something that pointed out what a bad idea it was to move in with her in-laws?

  He’d give her a call after he got home from his PT session this morning. Maybe she’d be up for talking over coffee.

  An uninvited image popped into his head and left him sick to his stomach. What must he have looked like chasing after that fire engine last night? He shook off the thought. But too late. Suddenly, asking Jenna Morgan to coffee didn’t seem like such a great idea.

  Jenna squinted as sun poured in through the windshield. She tried to stretch her legs and winced. The combination of icy air and her cramped “bed” had left her joints stiff and achy. Her breath hung in a cloud in front of her.

  A familiar roar outside the car window reminded her of the dream she’d been having. But she recognized the sound now. Not fire engines, but the trash truck. Monday morning.

  Looking up through the windshield, she stared at the house. Her house. How could she have lost it? She’d driven here last night after getting kicked out of Clairemont Hills, not knowing where else she could park to spend the night. When she remembered that the new owners hadn’t moved in yet, she risked parking here on the driveway close to the house. She’d hoped the L formed by the house and garage might protect her from the wind. But she’d barely slept all night, waking every half hour, freezing, to turn on the heater long enough to quit shivering. She’d been terrified someone would hear the car’s engine and call the police.

  She took in a sharp breath, clambered over the car seat, and fumbled for the keys she’d left in the ignition. The car stuttered several times before purring to life. The clock on the dashboard flickered and displayed the time. Seven forty-five. The first day of December.

  She could hardly move in the layers of clothes she’d slept in. Yet despite the layers, she shivered as cold air from the heater hit her face. She turned on the defroster and waited while the warming air cleared a porthole in front of the steering wheel.

  The radio weatherman announced that it was “a balmy thirty-nine degrees” and headed for a high of fifty-six today. He declared the temps unseasonably warm. If this was balmy, she hated to think about spending a truly cold night in the car.

  She didn’t know what time the new owners were due to arrive today, but she didn’t want to have to explain why she was camped out in their driveway. As the car warmed, she peeled off enough layers of clothing so she could move her limbs. Finally she put the car in gear and backed out of the driveway.

  She couldn’t remember when she’d ever been so miserable. Cold and damp to the bone, feeling claustrophobic in the cramped interior of the Volvo. She could not do this again tonight. She had to find a place to stay, had to find a paying job. But catching sight of herself in the rear-view mirror, she knew she first had to find a place to shower and dress before she darkened the door of any business.

  It was almost eight o’clock. Bryn would be up and getting ready for work by now. She punched in the number and scrambled to think what excuse she could give. She couldn’t confess that she’d spent the night in her car, but neither could—

  “Hello?”

  “Bryn. Hey, it’s Jenna. Can I ask a huge favor?”

  “Sure … shoot.”

  “Would you mind if I use your shower and—hang out there for a while today?”

  “Sure …” Her reply sounded like a question. “What’s going on?”

  She sighed. “Clarissa and I had a fight. I just … need to get away from there—from here for a while,” she corrected. It wasn’t a lie exactly. She needed to get away from this house, too.

  “Already? Oh, Jen, what have you gotten yourself into?”

  “I know, I know. And you tried to warn me. I should have listened.”

  “I’m heading to work in a little bit, but you’ve still got a key, right? And hey, thanks for taking care of Sparky last night.”

  “No problem.”

  “Listen, just make yourself at home. Ignore the mess. Garrett and I spent most of the weekend doing wedding stuff and the place is a wreck.”

  “Believe me, I’m not picky.” She forced a laugh. It came out more like a sob, but she covered it with a cough and Bryn didn’t seem to notice. Or pretended not to.

  “Oh, I usually shut Sparky up in the laundry room when I’m at work, but if you’re here, you can let him out. Just be sure and close him back in there before you leave.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She did not look forward to being in the same room—the same house—with that dog.

  “Stay as long as you want. Mi casa es su casa. I’m going to run by and see Dad on my way home from work, so I probably won’t be home till after dark.”

  Jenna had forgotten all about Bryn’s dad still being in the hospital. Some friend she was. “How’s your dad doing?”

  Bryn sighed. “Not great. They still can’t get his blood pressure straightened out. Hey, you didn’t happen to talk to Lucas about Sparky, did you?”

  “Actually, I did. He was going to check with somebody at the station, but he hasn’t gotten back to me yet.” She didn’t tell Bryn that she’d seen Lucas again since that night at Java Joint. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it herself yet. And now that she’d been kicked out of the Morgans’ house, she wasn’t eager to talk to anyone, including Lucas.

  “Thanks, Jen. I
appreciate it. Well, I’d better run. I hope you get things worked out with Clarissa, but stay as long as you like. Between Dad and Garrett I’m hardly ever home anyway.”

  That relieved a little of her guilt. If Bryn wasn’t there much, it wouldn’t feel like such an imposition to be crashing at her place.

  She cruised the back streets of the Falls, relishing the feel of the heater blowing warm air on her, and grateful that—at least for today—she had someplace warm to go.

  She killed time until she felt sure Bryn would have left for work, then drove to the apartment, praying Sparky would be content to stay locked in the laundry room. The bathroom was at the opposite end of the apartment from the laundry. Maybe if she didn’t make any noise letting herself in, the dog wouldn’t even know she was there.

  It wasn’t as if she could afford to be picky. Right now it was a choice between facing Sparky or facing Clarissa, and for today at least, her fear of dogs paled in comparison.

  But her words brought a strange hope, something he hadn’t felt in a while.

  15

  Why so glum this morning?”

  Lucas felt his mother’s eyes on him again and looked up from the newspaper to see her frowning.

  “And why are you still hanging around? Don’t you have to go to work or something?” He feigned a teasing tone he didn’t feel, shook out the morning paper, and leaned back in the kitchen chair, pretending to read.

  “Cut it out, Luc. You don’t have to pretend with me. You surely know that by now. Now what’s going on? Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Nothing, Ma. I’m fine. I … tripped and bit the dust last night. … Made a fool of myself in front of a beautiful woman. It ticked me off, that’s all.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “You were out with a woman last night?” She slid into the chair across from him. “Who?”

  “Well, hey, don’t worry about me too much, Ma. I’m sure my leg will heal up in no time.”

  She laughed and reached across the table to pick up his hand and plant a kiss on his knuckles. “Poor baby. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  He rewarded her with a genuine smile. “I’ll live. Nothing bruised but my ego.”

  “Okay, now let’s hear about this woman.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Real subtle, Ma.” But he told her about the fire run and even dared to mention that it was Jenna Morgan he’d been with.

  “What were you and Jenna doing at the station anyway?”

  “I ran into her at Rhodes. We were going for coffee and passed the station just as the trucks were leaving. You didn’t hear anything on the news, did you? The scanner was sketchy, but they said something about the homeless shelter.”

  “Really? Fire?”

  He nodded.

  “No,” she said, “I didn’t hear anything. But I didn’t have the radio on last night. I never heard sirens, though. What time was it?”

  “Around nine, I think. But you probably wouldn’t have heard them. They took the back way around. At least that’s what it looked like from my angle—with my face planted in the sidewalk.”

  She smiled and scooted her chair closer. “Now tell me more. Jenna Morgan, huh? She called here the other night. Is this getting serious?”

  “She has the hots for me, Ma. Like all the ladies. What can I say?”

  “Can you be serious for two seconds? Sarcasm does not become you, son.”

  He gave her a cheesy grin he knew would get a laugh, but decided to risk being serious. “Like I said, I ran into her at Rhodes last night. We ended up spending the night together.”

  His mother’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Not that kind of spending the night.” He laughed. Served her right for being so snoopy. “We just drove around for a while … talking.”

  She feigned a skeptical look, then beamed at him. “Are you going to ask her out again?”

  “Ma. We’re just friends. This is Zach’s wife we’re talking about.”

  “Luc. Come on—you don’t think Zach would want Jenna to curl up in a corner somewhere, do you? If you like her you should ask her out. She probably—”

  He held up a hand. “No. It wouldn’t be right, Ma. I couldn’t do that to Zach.” He shook his head slowly, but her words brought a strange hope, something he hadn’t felt in a while. A long while.

  “I worry about you, Lucas.” His mother pushed back her chair and came to stand in front of him, framing his face with her hands, the way she used to when he was a little boy.

  Her touch warmed him and embarrassed him at the same time. He gently pushed her hands away. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

  Concern crept into her eyes. “You aren’t still struggling with …?”

  Her question—and the love in her expression—stabbed him in the heart. “Ma, you don’t ever have to worry about that. I would never do anything—to hurt myself.” What he must have put her through all those months when he was in the throes of depression, grieving Pop, grieving the loss of his career, and of his healthy body. He’d thought about ending his life many times in those first agonizing months after the fire. But now he would give anything to take back all the worry he caused Ma when she had so many other things weighing on her. “I would never do that to you. Or to Dad’s memory.”

  “Oh, Luc … I just want you to be happy again.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “I know God will show you what He has for you next. You just have to ask.”

  “There’s only one thing I want, only one thing I’ve ever wanted my whole life.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “But for whatever reason that’s not possible now. But God is perfectly capable of giving you something new, something you’ll love just as much as firefighting. You just have to find out what that is.”

  “No.” He shook his head again. “If I can’t be a firefighter, then what was this all for? It’s not worth it. Not worth losing Dad, losing Zach … all of them.” He stopped, not trusting his voice. How had the conversation moved to this?

  She knelt beside him, tears brimming in her dark eyes. “That’s not true, Lucas. You know that’s not true. You have so much potential! There are a thousand other things you could do, and do well. You just have to discover what God has in mind for this next chapter in your life.”

  “Well, He’d better start talking then because I’m not getting the message He’s trying to—”

  The phone rang and Ma patted his cheek and went to answer. Her smile grew. “Yes … Just a moment … he’s right here.”

  Grinning, she handed him the cordless handset. “Speak of the devil,” she whispered. “And don’t you blow it.”

  Her smile lifted his spirits. Or maybe it had more to do with Jenna being on the other end of the line.

  “This is Lucas.”

  “Hi.” Her sigh held apology. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’ve got … a dog problem.”

  “Sparky again? What’s up? He trying to eat you or something?”

  Silence on the other end.

  “Jenna? You there?”

  “He, um … has me trapped.”

  He laughed. “Seriously? You’re trapped?”

  “Not exactly, but he’s holding me hostage. I’m over at Bryn’s—she’s at work—and I can’t get him back in the laundry room.”

  “Back in?”

  “I accidentally let him out, but Bryn said to put him back before I leave and … he won’t go. I tried calling Bryn, but she’s not answering her phone.”

  “Did you try going into the laundry and calling him? He’ll probably follow you.”

  More silence.

  “Jenna?”

  “I’m—I’m scared I’ll get closed in there with him.”

  “He won’t hurt you, Jenna. Where is he right now?”

  “He’s … watching me.”

  He scratched his head. “Um … Maybe the question is, where are you?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  “He won’t let you
catch him?”

  She sighed heavily into the phone. “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

  He frowned, confused. “Promise.”

  “I’m up on the counter. He won’t let me down.”

  He tried to picture her predicament and failed. “You’re sitting on the countertop?”

  “Um … crouching is more like it. He just keeps staring at me.”

  He couldn’t help it—he burst out laughing at the image. “He probably wonders what in the world you’re doing up there.”

  “Hey … you promised!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  At the edge of his vision he saw Ma motioning to him. He turned his back on her, but she came around beside him, gesturing frantically and mouthing, “Go help her. You go help her.”

  “Hang on a second.” Swallowing a new wave of laughter, he turned his back on his mother again and limped to the other side of the kitchen. “Jenna, if that dog wanted to hurt you, he’d rip you down from that counter so fast you wouldn’t know what hit you.”

  “But when I start to get down, he won’t let me.”

  “Listen, your only danger from that dog is being licked to death. But stay right there. I’ll come and rescue you.” He threw his mother a look meant to say, There. Are you happy?

  Her smile said she was.

  “Don’t worry,” Jenna said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “How am I going to get in?”

  “I didn’t lock the door.”

  “Okay. Sit tight—or maybe I should say, crouch tight.” He hung up, chuckling.

  “What’s going on?” His mother wore an inquisitive grin.

  Ignoring his aching muscles, he hauled himself to the closet for his jacket and his cane. “I have to go rescue a damsel in distress.” He tried to sound annoyed, but from the grin on Ma’s face, he didn’t think she was fooled for one second.

  She knew her face must be ten shades of pink, but he didn’t comment.

  16

  Jenna?” Lucas’s tentative voice floated from the entryway.

  “I’m in the kitchen,” she squeaked from her graceless and uncomfortable perch on Bryn’s kitchen counter. “Can you call him?”

 

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