This Loving Feeling (A Mirror Lake Novel)

by Miranda Liasson

  “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Probably September. Or October. Of course, you can fly out any weekend you want to be with us, too.”

  She let his words settle into the beautiful spring evening. Birds were swooping low over the lake and a riot of them were chirping and tweeting in the brush. Glorious, but not for her.

  The old Sam would have let that go. Would have accepted what he could give and not demanded any more.

  But she’d changed. Maybe she’d spent too many years trading her voice for the security she craved. But now that she’d shot security all to hell, what was left? Not a damn thing.

  She turned to Lukas and looked him in the eye. “Is that all you have to say?”

  He frowned. Like he was genuinely perplexed at what to do next. “Sam, I have to do this to secure my future—our future. I can’t just settle in here without a job, without a plan. That would be a disaster for everyone.”

  “I’m not asking you to give up your career or even this opportunity. I’m asking if you love me.”

  God, she hated herself for asking him that. Just like she’d made a fool of herself for suggesting she move into this house with him. She should just stop talking, but her mouth was a runaway locomotive and she could not put on the brakes.

  He looked a little stunned. And he still hadn’t said a thing. “Love means promises,” she said. “It means compromise. It means working together to find a solution.”

  “Why don’t you come with us until school starts?” he asked. “Then we can reassess things in the fall.”

  Reassess? There was that business-plan language again. She stood a little too quickly, her glass tipping and dark wine spilling across the old porch boards.

  “I’m not leaving Mirror Lake, Lukas. I gave up almost everything about who I was for Harris, and I’ll never do that again.” There, she could be stubborn, too. Maybe she could have done it, gone on the road. But he sounded so—so lukewarm about everything. Like he didn’t really want her there at all.

  “So you want me to make all the compromises.”

  There it was. “You know what, Lukas? I would never keep you from your dream but I actually see something else going on here entirely. More than a man just trying to work as hard as he can to be as successful as possible.”

  “It’s what I’ve always done.”

  “It’s what you’ve always done to avoid commitment. You think I would have learned that about you by now, but obviously I didn’t. But I know you, Lukas. You’ve done everything you could to be successful and you’ve made it, you really have. But you’re never going to stop craving that success. You’ll get one contract, but it won’t be enough. You’ll have to try for an even bigger one. You still see yourself as that nobody-kid and you’ll be proving that you’re not to yourself and to everyone else for the rest of your life.”

  She smiled sadly. “I’m not something to reassess. Either you love me or you don’t. I can’t tell you how to live your life but I can decide how to live mine, and it’s not going to be to please you or my family or anyone. I wish you the best. I hope you slay your demons. Good-bye, Lukas.”

  Somehow she left him, ran into the kitchen for her purse and walked down the driveway to her car. Oh, he’d tried to stop her but she just hightailed it out of there as fast as she could. She’d just exited the driveway when her phone rang. It was Alethea, and she pulled off the road to answer. “The Buckhorns have withdrawn their million-dollar pledge,” she said, “and they’ve chosen not to cover any of the expenses for tomorrow night—the caterers, the appetizers, the wine, the decorations. What shall I do?”

  “Oh, Alethea.” Sam rested her head against the steering wheel, trying to absorb its coolness. Trying to think clearly through the aching sadness that burrowed clear down to her marrow. Desperately struggling to come up with something comforting or brave to say, but no words came. Of course the Buckhorns would withdraw their support. They’d never really cared about the theater, just about keeping her occupied with a “little project.” Now that her connection with Harris was broken, there was no reason for them to continue pretending they cared.

  Taking on the theater restoration had been risky but it had become a passion, and she’d never really thought about not succeeding. She’d loved it so much, the idea that the project could fail had never seriously occurred to her. The idea that they could fail when they were this close was even more of a shock.

  Lukas, on the other hand, had always been a risk. But there again, she thought love would be enough to see them through. She knew better than to get involved with him. But she had anyway and he’d broken her heart again.

  Sam’s grandma answered the door of her apartment at Assisted Living with pink sponge rollers in her hair and wearing a pink fuzzy zip-up robe and orthopedic slippers.

  “Why, hello, dear,” Effie said, immediately taking in the look on her face. “What is it? Did somebody die?”

  “I know it’s late but can I come in and talk?” Sam took a big breath. “Lukas is leaving, Effie. He’s taking Stevie with him.”

  “Oh.” Effie grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, shutting the door. Then she led Sam to the couch and sat her down, taking a seat beside her.

  It didn’t take long for Sam to spill tears and her story, just as she had so many times before when she was much younger and her problems weren’t nearly so tangled. Effie listened with the same endless patience she’d always had, rubbing her back and holding her hand like she was ten again. “He’s booked for months with a tour and a record contract and . . . I told him I wasn’t going to quit my job and follow him. I came this close to doing that for Harris. I can’t give up my identity for someone else. Even if it’s Lukas.”

  Effie squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry, dear.”

  “I love him, Ef. But I don’t think he’s capable of committing. And maybe I’m not capable of compromising.”

  Effie frowned. “Do you love Lukas?”

  “Yes! Of course I do. But he hasn’t said it. He can’t. It’s just not in him.” Well, she was right to expect nothing short of love, and he should want to say it, right?

  “Life’s a game of chance and sometimes you’ve got to risk it all. I wish I had.”

  “What do you mean?” What was she telling her? That she hadn’t given Lukas everything? Because she had. Hadn’t she?

  “Samantha, I’m not as sweet as I seem. I’ve had my trials like everyone else. You know I was only thirty when your grandfather died. I was young and lonely and . . . eventually there was a man.”

  “A nice man?”

  “A very nice man.” She smiled a bit wistfully. “He worked at the bank and we dated. Secretly. I was so afraid not to expose your mother to any more trauma after your grandfather died. I didn’t want her to get attached to someone who might not be around.”

  “I worry about that with Stevie all the time,” Sam said.

  “Well, things happened as they did, seeing as Lukas and Stevie entered your life at practically the same time. But in my case, I went to great lengths to hide my relationship. My mother encouraged me to. Of course, she flaunted her own widowhood like a banner her entire life after my own father died when I was nineteen. She never was able to move forward.

  “One day my friend got a promotion. He asked me to pick up and move with him to another city. I was terrified. Everything I knew was here. I was worried about uprooting your mother, of leaving my family and my support system.”

  “Did he ask you to marry him?”

  “No, but I bet he would have if I had compromised. He wanted to meet your mother, be a part of her life. He waited for me for a long time after he moved. But I always had some excuse or another. I was so afraid, and so guilty, as if loving somebody else would have desecrated your grandfather’s memory. Anyway, I was a fool.” She made a dismissive gesture.

  “The point is, Samantha, sometimes you have to have the courage to go out of your comf
ort zone. I must admit, getting rid of that Harris was a good start. But don’t stop there, if you really love this man.”

  “What happened to—er—your friend?”

  “He married someone else and had a handful of children.”

  “I’m sorry, Effie.”

  “That’s okay.” She patted Sam’s hand in that gentle way of hers. “Just be braver than I was.”

  “I think you’ve been plenty brave, raising us, working as a nurse for all those years.” Effie just shrugged in that humble way of hers, always hating to call attention to herself. She knew it had taken her a lot to tell that story. “The Buckhorns withdrew their donation. We’re two million short now, and if we don’t match the state funds we don’t get the grant. The caterer and the party planner Mrs. Buckhorn hired pulled out. The benefit tomorrow’s going to be a disaster.”

  Effie shot her a look.

  Tears welled up fresh. “Don’t give me that look.”

  “What look?” Effie asked in her innocent voice.

  “Your I-didn’t-teach-you-to-ever-give-up look.”

  This time, Effie’s eyes welled up. “You know me too well. You see, I don’t even have to speak anymore.”

  Samantha wrapped her arms around her grandmother and squeezed. “I love you. You were a good mother to me.”

  Effie hugged her back, her warm arms surrounding her tightly, the smell of Chantilly strong and old fashioned and familiar. “You’ve always been a sweet girl, and I love you with all my heart.” She patted her cheek. “But right now you have to find the strength to go save our theater. And as far as Lukas is concerned, remember, there’s no such thing as perfect anything. You make your own future out of the chaos life hands you. Life is a giant slot machine, and honey, God only gives you so many pulls.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” Stevie stomped his feet and planted them in the middle of the front aisle of the grocery store. Thank God it was Friday afternoon before rush hour and not too many people were around.

  “Stavros! Geez, cut that out!” Lukas said. They’d just walked in. Actually, it was not really walking. It was more like something out of a cartoon, with Lukas trying to tug Stevie into the grocery store and Stevie putting the brakes on, and they were getting a thousand dirty looks.

  “I’m not going. I wanna stay here.” Here was the entrance to the store, but Lukas knew what he meant. He wanted to stay in Mirror Lake. How the hell was he supposed to tell this kid that everything he’d come to love would now be taken away? He’d screwed up everything in a big way. More proof that he wasn’t cut out for relationships of any kind.

  Yet who else did Stevie have? No one. Just Lukas. So Lukas released him and dropped down to Stevie’s level. “I know you do.”

  Stevie turned big watery eyes on him, making him feel even more like shit. “Then why can’t we stay? I miss Sammy. Why didn’t she come over last night, Uncle Lukas?”

  They hadn’t seen her for two days, but if felt like two years. “She’s just . . . very busy. She said for us to stop by the theater before we leave.” The big theater benefit was tomorrow. The bus was already packed. They were about to head out today for the Stones’ concert tomorrow.

  “I miss Sammy.”

  Yeah, kid, tell me about it. “Look, Stevie . . .”

  “Are you going to leave me?”

  Lukas pulled him into a hug that was probably a little too tight. “Never, Stevie. Never. I love you and love is forever. It’s just that I have this job, and the job is telling me we’ve got to go back on the road.”

  Love is forever. Geez, did he just say that? He couldn’t even take his own advice.

  “Tell the job no.”

  “I wish it were that easy.”

  “I have friends. And Sam’s like my mom and you’re like my dad.”

  “Look, we’ll be able to come back after the tour. Besides, you like the bus, don’t you? We’ll see fun places and get McDonald’s and you get to have a top bunk.”

  He could tell from Stevie’s expression that he wasn’t buying it. And he just couldn’t tell him the whole truth, that Sam and he had broken up and that they weren’t coming back to Mirror Lake for a long time. “Right now we just need to go into the store and grab a couple groceries. Okay?”

  Just then, a nicotine craving hit him like a ton of bricks. He’d reached the end of his rope. He had to have a cigarette. One or two or twenty, if he could just survive this.

  At least no one was hounding him for a picture, or taking one of Stevie tantruming. As if reading his mind, Gertie, the owner, who was manning the central register, pulled out her iPhone and pointed it his way.

  “Don’t you dare,” Lukas said. “Or I’ll tell everyone that you and Hank Masterson used to get it on after hours behind the vegetable displays.”

  “Sorry, Lukas, old news.” She waggled her left hand so he could see her diamond ring. “We’ve been married for three years.”

  “Come on, Gertie. Give me a break. I’ve just got to get a couple things for dinner.”

  She put down her phone and sighed. “Oh, all right. Being as you were a decent bag boy way back when, I’ll have mercy on you.” She walked over to Stevie, putting on her glasses, which dangled from a bejeweled neck strap.

  “Hey, Stavros,” the buxom gray-haired woman said, stooping down and looking at Stevie through her bifocals.

  Stevie stood sullen and red faced, with arms crossed. Royally pissed.

  “This grocery store always brings out the worst in babies and children. How about we get some ice cream while your Uncle Lukas gets what he needs.”

  “No.” He gave Gertie, who wore a brightly colored flowered smock, a look like who the heck is this lady?

  “A chip off the old block, huh, Lukas.” Gertie chuckled. “Rebel Mini-Me. Okay, I hate to pull out the big guns, but I’ve got ice-cream cake. Chocolate and vanilla, with a chocolate cake layer in between. What do you say?”

  Stevie’s eyes softened even if his posture didn’t. Gertie must have seen it, too, because she winked at Lukas. Steering Stevie by the shoulders to her office in front of the store, she tossed Lukas a wave. “Take your time. See you after checkout.”

  Lukas mouthed thank you and wiped his forehead. God, this parent stuff was tough. Stevie would probably eat no dinner at all after being bribed with the slice of ice-cream cake but he didn’t even care. He was grateful for the breather to get some sanity back. At the entrance, he grabbed a shopping basket from the stack but on impulse, got in the twelve-items-or-less line and bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Then he headed to the back of the store and out the storeroom entrance, which he knew well from his bag-boy days. In the alley behind the store, he sat on an old metal folding chair—probably the same one from years ago—and lit up. He watched in fascination as the cigarette ignited and started to burn. Watched the gray ash form and build and flare as if he’d never seen it before. But for some reason, he didn’t put it to his lips.

  Of course he loved Sam. She was the only woman he’d ever loved but he was so, so afraid. What did he know about love? About caring for another person? About sticking with that person through thick and thin? Everyone from his youth had let him down. He’d been rejected over and over by family after family, the kid no one wanted.

  Maybe Sam was right. A part of him still saw himself as that unlovable, unadoptable kid. Too flawed to be loved. So he kept driving himself and driving himself. No matter how much success he found, it would never be enough.

  He flicked the ash off the cigarette. Finally, in a gesture borne more of despair than of triumph, he tossed the cigarette on the ground and crushed it beneath his heel.

  “Excellent choice, paidi mou. You don’t need those filthy things anyway.”

  “Jesus!” He turned to see Mrs. Panagakos standing in the storeroom doorway, dressed all in black—black hose, black dress, and a little black veil.

  “You need a shave,” she said. “No foul language in fron
t of the boy.”

  “What boy?”

  Stevie peeked out from behind Mrs. P. He had chocolate all over his face. And his mood looked considerably improved, thank the Lord. Gertie was there, too. Did anyone in this town mind their own business?

  “Stevie has something to tell you,” Mrs. Panagakos said, “so we came and found you.”

  “How did you even know we were here?” Lukas asked. “And why are you dressed like that?”

  “It’s hard to miss that big bus of yours in the parking lot. I wear black when I’m depressed. I’m very saddened by the recent turn of events with you and Samantha. And I will miss you and Stavros terribly.” She started to choke up. “But right now, Stevie wants to tell you something. Go ahead, my precious.” She nudged Stevie forward. “Tell him what you just told me.”

  “Uncle Lukas, I love you because you taught me to swim. And you tuck me in at night. And you sing to me and do cool magic tricks. But I love Sammy, too.”

  Lukas looked down at his boy. He touched his soft smeared little-boy cheek. Everything he’d done for Stevie from the moment he’d eyeballed him sitting by himself on the steps of Lukas’s bus while the social worker told his story had been to prevent that little child from experiencing even an ounce more of pain. Not for any reason other than he loved him.

  And Stevie loved Lukas . . . just because he did simple things for him. Not because he was famous or successful. Stevie didn’t care about his recording contracts or who the Rolling Stones were (although one day he probably would). And maybe that was enough.

  Maybe he wasn’t a typical guy in a lot of ways—he’d grown up without a family or a fancy education, and his job was atypical. But he was sick without Sam and so was Stevie. Maybe chasing after success twenty-four seven was not the only way to ensure that he had a good life.

  He loved her and maybe that would be enough to get him through all the things he didn’t know, that he had no clue or experience about.

  He looked up and saw Mrs. Panagakos clutching her heart. Gertie was right behind her.