Luke's #1 Rule

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Luke's #1 Rule Page 2

by Cynthia Harrison


  The GPS on Luke’s phone found the house, an older ranch with crab grass for lawn and shaggy overgrown shrubbery. Only a few hours south of Blue Lake, the temperature warmer, the lawns greener. He walked across the grass, and it held firm, no mud here. He went around the side of the house, checking out back. Rickety deck, ancient, rusty chain-link fence, enormous poplar that had been struck by lightning. The tree bent precariously toward the back of the house. His eyes took in the old-fashioned swing set in a far corner of the yard.

  There was work here for him. He went back to the front of the house and rang the doorbell.

  A goddess in blue jeans, her brown hair streaked with gold and gathered into a messy twist atop her head, answered the door. He did not expect the slam of hunger that hit his body like a blow. He tugged on the bill of his ball cap, trying to settle down. Ursula?

  “Can I help you?” Venus spoke through the screen door.

  He checked the address. “Are you Ursula Muscach?”

  “That’s my mom.”

  “Uh.” Luke stood there like an idiot. “I’m Luke Anderson. Your mom wanted some landscaping work done?”

  The goddess in blue jeans nodded but still didn’t open the door. “Yeah, she mentioned something about that. I’ll give her a call to see what’s going on.”

  She left him on the porch, just like a smart city girl should.

  She came back a few minutes later with a phone to her ear.

  “Well, he’s here now.”

  She rolled her eyes at him.

  She listened for a few minutes and then said, “Fine,” before disconnecting. She didn’t seem happy about it, but she opened the door and let him in.

  “You’re Luke? From Blue Lake?”

  He nodded, hardly hearing what she said because her voice so low and sweet caught and held him.

  “I’m Chloe. We have a cottage there. I love your summers.”

  “It’s a great little town.” The only thing missing: a woman just like Chloe.

  Chloe nodded.

  He gazed down at her bare feet. Her toenails were painted a light shade of pink, each toe perfect, like a little pearl.

  “So you’re staying with us?”

  The business person in Luke stepped out to take the place of the love-struck teenager. “I need to write up an estimate, and if she’s cool with that, I’ll get the job done.”

  “Oh, she’ll be cool with it.” Chloe’s voice had an edge he didn’t understand, but, hey, city girl. Who knew? He followed her from the living room into the kitchen.

  “She wanted me to show you your room. It’s down here.”

  He followed Chloe down the stairs into a knotty-pine paneled basement, a bar with a few stools at one end, a sofa under the high, tiny window, and a desk with a laptop and stacks of papers on another wall.

  Chloe walked to the closed door across from the desk and threw it open. “Your bed. Shower’s around the corner.”

  He kept a blank face so she wouldn’t know his thoughts right now. “It’s fine. Great. Thanks. I’ll take it. No problem. Perfect.” Luke babbled when he was nervous, and his feelings about what he wanted to do with Chloe in that shower she’d mentioned made him more than nervous. He hadn’t felt this alive in years, and now, pow. Wow. So good to be himself again, so good to be interested in a pretty woman. Even though they were in the basement, everything seemed brighter.

  And he had a feeling she got the same rush. He could swear she’d blushed at his inept and overly expressive response to her. She went over to the desk and shut the laptop. Then she piled papers on it and started back up the stairs. “I usually work down here, but I’ll move everything to my room.”

  “I don’t want to put you out,” he said. Today was his lucky day, and if she lived with her mother, as she seemed to, the coming week would be his lucky week. Was she moving up to Blue Lake with her mom? How excellent would that be?

  “No problem.” She started up the steps. “You can help me with the desk later.” It was a small desk. She came back down for the lamp and chair, and he picked up the desk and followed her upstairs. He would follow her anywhere.

  “Thanks,” she said, when they got to her bedroom. She pointed toward an empty corner, and he set the desk there. “I’ve got some work to do, so if you’ll excuse me.” She turned her back to him and opened her laptop.

  Her curt dismissal froze him in place. He became hyper-aware of her unmade bed. The sheets were white with tiny pink flowers. A nightgown, baby blue, tangled in the blankets.

  She must have noticed him not moving because she turned her head and said over her shoulder, “The garage is open. We’ll park our cars on the street so you can have access. If you need a place to write up your estimate, feel free to use the kitchen table.” She actually made a motion as if to shoo him from the room.

  He left the room but stood in the doorway. “When will Ursula be home?”

  She let out a huff of breath and turned away from the desk to face him. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “What?”

  “Our moms. They’re summer friends. We have a cottage in Blue Lake. They plotted this. This setup. That’s why my mom isn’t here. They want us to be alone for a while.”

  As soon as she said it, he knew it was true.

  Chapter Two

  Chloe sat waiting for Spence in the coffee shop halfway between their houses. Late, as usual. And why? All he did was surf the web, eat junk food, and smoke pot. When he’d first lost his Realtor job back when the economy tanked, she had to build a career. Her starting salary had barely kept them in their beautiful house. The only house her boys had ever known.

  Then she got the online porn bills and saw how much money Spence took out of the bank for “walking around” cash. Really? He needed three hundred dollars a week? For what? He never even tried to find other work, just slid into depression and addiction. More than one addiction. She got a raise and sent him to rehab. He came out clean, but she’d already taken the children and gone.

  Apparently, she caused every damn thing that had gone wrong in his life. Fine. She’d been fed up anyway. And to this day, he still let the women in his life support him and his habits.

  Speak of the stoned, Spence blew in wearing a tan trench coat she’d bought him the first year of their marriage.

  “What’s so important we had to meet today?” Spence ran fingers through thinning floppy hair. Surprise, he didn’t smell like weed. He continued to finger his stringy hair; he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  The thought of Luke’s thick blonde hair flitted through her mind. Why was she thinking about Luke now? Obviously way more fun than looking at her wreck of an ex.

  She pulled herself back to the present, highly unpleasant moment. Something was wrong with Spence. Did people have withdrawals from marijuana? She wasn’t sure what other drugs he dabbled in. Pregnant and blissful Bettina, too loyal to tell. He picked at a piece of lint on his wrinkled shirt for five minutes or maybe an hour. True, he didn’t smell like pot, but a distinctive unwashed body odor, almost as bad, wafted her way.

  Maybe he’d decided to detox. Good for him. According to Bettina, since his return from the latest stint in rehab, he started the morning with a loaded bowl and went back for more all through the day. Doctor Feelgood’s orders. No doubt Spence had failed to mention he had a problem with addiction. Not her problem. Codependent no more. It would be good for the kids not to have to witness their dad with his pills, pot, powder, and premium scotch.

  “I’ve been offered a really great job.” She’d taken a half day off work to get her tasks in order. She’d visited her attorney and had a new custody agreement drawn up, allowing her to leave the state with the boys.

  “Really?”

  Anything to do with money made Spence’s ears perk. In a few months, he’d have a new baby to think about. Ironic. He and Chloe had gone to the boys’ school together to talk to their teachers about the divorce. They wanted to present a united front and wanted the teacher
s to know that if the boys acted out in any way, they wanted to be notified. The school principal attended the meeting. Not too many months after the divorce, she’d married Spence. Bettina. Nice lady, bad taste in men.

  “It’s out of state.” Best to put it all on the table.

  “No.” His first response always, just no. She waited and sure enough, after a beat he asked, “Where?”

  “Seattle.”

  “Absolutely not. I’ll never see them.” He talked fast, tripping over words, still not looking at her. She noticed that old feeling, that Mom feeling, like he was doing something wrong and hiding it from her. She had to get her kids away from him.

  He’d seen the boys a total of three times this year, and it was already mid-April. It killed her a little bit every time she saw their disappointed faces when he cancelled a scheduled visitation, usually at the last minute with a paper thin excuse.

  “If I take this job, I’ll be able to fund their college trusts on my own.” Not that he’d ever put one dime in the accounts.

  “What’s the offer?”

  “Enough.” She knew he meant salary, not position. She gave him the paperwork that freed him from any financial obligation toward their sons forever with a tasty carrot thrown in. She still owned the home he and Bettina lived in. She’d continued to pay the mortgage, so the boys would have their first home. Now, if he signed the custody agreement, she’d pay off the house and transfer title to Spence and Bettina. He grabbed the papers and scanned the document quickly. Then again.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said.

  An hour later, Spence texted. He’d signed the papers and dropped them at her attorney’s office. She knew he’d put owning the house, mortgage paid, deed in his name, free and clear, before the boys. She’d counted on it, even. Still, an unwanted stab of conscience made her silence it by reminding herself they’d all be better off without him. She didn’t want her boys to see him slide into some sort of worse addiction. She didn’t know what he’d been using before they’d met, but the more she thought about it, she knew he’d been using something. The addictive behavior was escalating again. A perfect time to get out of town.

  ****

  Chloe shut her office door and phoned Kristy in Seattle. They’d met in college and remained friends even as their lives took different paths: Kristy up the corporate ladder in Seattle and Chloe raising babies in Michigan. When Chloe returned to work, her first account was an online workshop for Kristy’s company. Kristy knew what a pain Rob could be, so when a position opened up at her firm, Kristy quickly offered Chloe a spot on the human resources team. It came with a VP title, and the salary and benefits forced Chloe to think about how much she could improve her children’s lives if she accepted the job.

  “So did he sign?” Kristy knew the story with Spence. She’d been Chloe’s maid of honor in the wedding and never admitted her discomfort with Spence until the divorce.

  “Yep.”

  “Cold bastard.”

  “Yeah,” Chloe sighed. “I think he’s got a new drug. Not sure what.” He was a different man from the one she’d married, but despite his letting them down time and again, the boys adored their dad.

  “What did he act like?”

  “He seemed nervous and wouldn’t meet my eye. He didn’t smell like pot.”

  Kristy was as mystified as Chloe. Their idea of getting high meant a vodka martini. One.

  “You going to pay for rehab again?”

  “No. I just want to get away from him. Get us all away from him. Bettina can try to clean him up this time.”

  “Have you written a letter of resignation?”

  “This morning. Haven’t sent it yet.”

  “Like I said before, the position opens in July.”

  “That’s fine.” More than fine. Perfect. When school let out, Chloe could take the boys on their usual vacation.

  “So I’ll fax you the contract.”

  “To my home fax.”

  “Of course. We are going to have so much fun!”

  Chloe thought about telling Kristy about the cute landscape guy that seemed to have a crush on her, but then she decided not to get into it at work. She’d call Kristy later tonight and give her all the details.

  Chloe had barely put the phone down when Rob stormed into her office. His body language confirmed what she’d always suspected: he listened in on phone calls. He was too much of a control freak not to wonder why she and Kristy were talking during business hours long after they’d finished the job. She could have used her cell phone, but maybe part of her wanted him to find out this way.

  “I won’t be requiring two weeks’ notice,” he said as she tapped the keys on her laptop, emailing him the letter of resignation she’d written that morning after Luke arrived.

  ****

  Chloe came home to an empty house. She went to the kitchen and heard Luke and her mom through the open window. They stood in front of the old swing set the boys hardly used anymore. It had been Chloe’s.

  “Chloe’s dad kept it in shape, but I guess I’ve let it go since he’s been gone.”

  Chloe thought of her dad with a familiar pang of longing. He died just before she left Spence. At least he didn’t know about Spence’s chronic unemployment, his increased drinking, his pain pills, everything that led to the divorce. She missed her dad every day but was glad to have spared him all that drama. She wiped this worn record from her mind. Forget it. That was then. This is now. And Luke with the luscious hair was in her backyard, talking to her mom.

  “We’ll tear this down. Not a problem.”

  “You don’t know my grandsons.”

  And before she could catch Luke’s response, Chloe heard the unmistakable sound of school bus air brakes and went outside to say hi to the boys. She loved that she was home early to greet them right after school.

  “Mom! Grandma! There’s a big truck in the driveway!”

  Chloe’s two dynamos came barreling into the backyard, throwing backpacks on the deck and jumping on the swings, pumping their legs in a competition of who could swing higher.

  “Hey Mister, is that your truck?” Josh asked.

  “I know how to read!” Tommy said. You’re Luke’s La—”

  “Landscapes!” Josh pumped his legs harder in triumph.

  Luke answered with a clipped yes and backed away from the swing set.

  First Josh, then Tommy, jumped into the air and landed a few feet from their swings.

  “Impressive, but I told you not to jump off those swings.” Chloe knew they were showing off for Luke. Not that he’d noticed. She discreetly checked the yard, but he’d disappeared.

  “Wanna play basketball, Mommy?” After being cooped up in the house all winter, the boys loved coming home to sunny warm days. Josh ran into the garage to find the basketball. Tommy and Chloe followed.

  Luke stood at her father’s workbench holding a measuring tape in one hand and a pencil in the other.

  Josh found the basketball and brought it with him over to the workbench. “Wanna play horse, Mr. Luke?”

  “Mommy’s going to play, aren’t you?” Tommy edged closer to Luke, who hadn’t answered or even looked at them.

  “I am.” She waited for Luke to make a polite excuse. He didn’t say a word but continued scribbling notations on his paper. What was his problem? All morning he had eyed her like she was a chocolate milkshake he wanted to drink straight down, and now his eyes ran right through her. “Mr. Luke has to work. He’s cutting down the tree.”

  “We can help.” Tommy still looked up at Luke, heartbreaking hope in his eyes. Tommy, the sweetest kid in the world, loved everyone. He must have got to Luke, because the thick-haired, thick-skulled asshole from up north finally turned away from his calculations at the workbench.

  “How about you stick to playing basketball, and I’ll do my work?” Luke tried a weak smile to soften his words, but Chloe wasn’t buying it.

  “Want to see me ride my bike?” Tommy asked. Next he�
��d be showing an uninterested Luke his skateboard moves.

  “Tommy, honey, come on, it’s your turn,” Chloe said. “We seem to be bothering Mr. Luke.” The hoop attached to the garage peak.

  “No,” Luke said. He used the side door of the garage to circumvent Chloe and the boys. A minute later, Chloe heard his truck start up.

  After dinner, Chloe stood at the kitchen window, doing dishes. While she worked, she watched Luke unloading fencing from his truck, stacking it in the garage. The night darkened into black, so he had all the outdoor lights on. Her mother had insisted they save him a plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, but he’d probably had something to eat while he’d been out. From the mountain of supplies he moved from truck to garage, he’d bought out Home Depot.

  She watched Luke finish unloading the truck and close up the garage. One by one the lights out back darkened. The stairs to the basement were right there at the kitchen door, just a little landing one step down. He didn’t look her way as he brought in a duffel bag and descended.

  Chloe’s mom called out that she’d saved him dinner.

  He didn’t answer, and after a few minutes they heard the clunk in the water pipes that signaled he’d turned on the shower.

  Chloe made a face.

  “Why can’t you be nice to him?”

  “He’s rude and mean. Especially to the boys,” Chloe whispered, even though the boys, engrossed in a video game, paid no attention to the kitchen talk.

  “He’s not comfortable yet.”

  “That’s not it. Before he knew I had kids, he practically ate me up with his eyes.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. And we both know you and his mother are hatching a plot to get us together. Obviously, it’s not going to work.”

  Any guy who couldn’t love her kids was not a guy for her. Not that she’d been searching. Time enough for love when she settled in Seattle. Any man could see that her boys were adorable, easy to love, eager to please. And Luke, what a jerk.

  ****

  After his shower, Luke put on a pair of clean jeans and a fresh shirt. He was hungry but didn’t want to deal with the people in this house. He’d never been good at apologies but knew he had to make one. If not to the boys, then to Chloe. He’d been so rude to her kids. Shame washed over him. And hunger. He’d wait for everyone to go to bed and then creep upstairs to eat the meatloaf Ursula had saved for him.

 

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