The Instant Family Man

by Shirley Jump

  That warmed her deep inside, in that empty place that had always thought Luke never noticed her. “Really?”

  “You were always so studious,” he said. “You got good grades, you read constantly and, even when we were kids, you were the one who worried about everyone getting home on time and having dinner.”

  “I had to. My mother was...” Peyton shrugged, as if the difficult childhood she’d had didn’t impact her anymore. “More often than not, drunk or passed out. Susannah was the wild child, and she was never around, so that left me to be the one in charge.”

  His face softened with sympathy. Few people had known about Peyton’s mother, but many had suspected, and in Luke’s features, she saw understanding, support. “How old were you when that started?”

  “Old enough to know that it wasn’t supposed to be my job.” She looked at Maddy, who thankfully had none of that on her shoulders. She was a kid, in the best ways of being a kid, who played with her dolls and had ice cream for dinner once in a while, and didn’t worry about adult things like empty cupboards and the electric company shutting off the power. “The only time I was really a kid were the weekends I went to my grandma Lucy’s house. She’d bake cookies and teach me to sew, and tell me to go out and play. But when she was seventy-five, she got sick, and those weekends pretty much ended.”

  “Peyton, I’m sorry.” He took her hand, his touch warm and comforting. “You have always had too much on your plate, too many expectations on your shoulders. You deserved a better childhood, more of those cookies and days outside.”

  She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “It was what it was.”

  “But it doesn’t have to always be that way. You can have more now, and you deserve more.”

  “Like what you have with your family?” A smile crossed her face. “I’ve always liked your family. I still do. They were like the...”

  “What?” he nudged when she didn’t finish. His fingers tightened on hers, and that touch encouraged her to say the rest, to admit the truth to herself.

  “The family I dreamed I had. I used to pretend I...” Now she did stop talking and looked away, because there was no way in hell she was admitting the rest. Pretend I married you and we had that family around us all the time. “Pretend I lived somewhere like that.”

  “I had no idea you and your sister grew up like that,” Luke said. “Susannah didn’t talk about her home life much, and I was too, uh, busy being a teenage boy to ask.”

  She laughed and pointed at his chest. “Now, that’s the Luke I remember.”

  “I’m not quite that bad anymore.”

  “Not quite.” She grinned at him, and they shared a smile. They watched Maddy and her new friend play for a while, as the day drew to a close and the sun began to set. Peyton felt so much better, opening up to Luke, and realizing he supported her and understood. It was...nice. Very nice.

  “If you ever want to talk about what happened with Jeremiah, I’m here, you know,” she said softly. “That’s what friends are for.”

  “Is that what we are? Friends?” His blue eyes were direct on hers, assessing, curious.

  She sighed. “I don’t know what we are, Luke.”

  “I don’t, either, but I think it went beyond friends after that second kiss.”

  That sent a buzz through her, as if she was a teenager again and desperate for the handsome football captain to see beyond her glasses and her books. Goodness, she was hopeless. She needed to get back on track, to refocus their relationship into something she could define. And by define, she meant control, because if there was one thing Peyton didn’t like, it was uncertainty.

  The children had moved to the swings and were toeing off and drifting back and forth while they chattered about whatever topics four-year-olds chattered about.

  “I’m the same as you, you know,” Luke said after a while. “I don’t like to ask for help. Or admit that I can’t handle something on my own.”

  She let out a little laugh. He could have been describing her personal résumé. “I think that’s part of human nature.”

  “Not always the smartest part.” He plucked a leaf off the branch above their heads, shredded the green into tiny pieces, then tossed them on the ground. Then he let out a long breath, and his features turned somber. “I’ve made some pretty stupid decisions myself, the biggest of which was that night with Jeremiah.”

  They leaned against the tree, their heads close together as he talked. She could have reached out and taken his hand in her own, but she didn’t. Instead, she stayed still and listened, watching the pain flicker in Luke’s eyes.

  “Four years ago, Jeremiah and I were at a party. One of those impromptu ones that spring up wherever there’s an empty place and someone with a beer budget. Remember that factory outside town, the one that shut down back in the ’80s?”

  She nodded. She knew the place. It had gone from a bustling manufacturing plant to a ghost town, with half the buildings falling into disrepair. Years ago, the town had put up yellow caution tape and no-trespassing signs, but it did little to dissuade teenagers looking for a place far from prying eyes.

  “Jeremiah’s girlfriend had broken up with him that morning, so he asked me to be his wingman and designated driver. He wanted to forget her, know what I mean?”

  She nodded. She knew how hard it could be to forget someone you were half in love with. Even now, standing a few inches away from Luke, every fiber in her being was attuned to his.

  “But then I met some girl, a girl whose name I don’t even remember now, and I left Jeremiah alone. He got it in his head that he wanted to leave, and he couldn’t find me, so he...” Luke turned away and cursed. “He grabbed the first set of keys he saw and got behind the wheel. Hit a tree a quarter mile down the road.”

  Her breath caught. “Oh, Luke.”

  “Wasn’t wearing a seat belt, and when he hit the steering wheel, he broke his back. Paralyzed from the waist down.” Luke’s voice became ragged, and a sob caught in his sentence. “He was twenty-one, Peyton. Just barely starting his life. And if I had been there, if I had stuck with him like I said I would—”

  “You can’t blame yourself for that. He’s the one who got behind the wheel of the car, not you.”

  His eyes hardened and it made Peyton’s heart break for Luke. “I was supposed to be watching him,” he said. “I was supposed to be his friend.”

  “You weren’t his guardian. He was a grown man, one who made one bad choice.” Now she did take his hand in hers, but he remained stiff, unyielding. “You can’t blame yourself, Luke.”

  “Yeah, well, I do. Every day.” He pushed off from the tree and away from her. His shoulders were hunched, the lines in his face filled with regret and self-recrimination. “And if you want to know the truth, that’s what I worry about every single day, hell, every single minute, since the day I found out I’m Maddy’s father.” His gaze shifted to his daughter now playing in a sandbox near the little boy’s family. Luke’s composure cracked. “I’m not father material, Peyton, no matter how many times I go out for ice cream and play at the park.”

  It all made sense. Luke’s “irresponsibility” was about fear, not a character deficiency. She finally understood that, as well as she understood her own need to control everything so she wouldn’t make a bad decision. Luke’s regrets had clearly haunted him for a long, long time—and still did.

  He started to leave, but she hurried after him, grabbing his arm and stopping him. “Maybe you’re right, Luke, or maybe you’re just scared as hell of screwing this up. I understand that, because I feel it every day myself. I worry all the time. What if I’m not the mom she needs? What if I make a decision that hurts her instead of helps her?”

  “You’re a great mom, Peyton. Maddy is lucky to have you.”

  “And she’s lucky to have you.” Peyton gave his arm a squeeze, and a smile flickered across his face. “Being with you these last few days has helped Maddy in ways I couldn’t. All the ways she needed, ever
since Susannah died. The man who made up that whole story about Uncle Jeb and helped a little girl feel safe when she was scared, that is the man who should be a father. And over there,” Peyton said, pointing at Maddy, chattering with her new friend a mile a minute, “I see a little girl who needs that father, needs him more than maybe either you or she even realize. So, deal with your demons, and deal with them fast, because she needs you. Today, not ten years from now.”

  Peyton let Luke go and went back to Maddy. She waited, hoping that Luke would follow, but when she glanced over her shoulder a minute later, he was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  It was almost three full days before Luke could steal enough time to see Peyton and Maddy again. He was glad for the time and space, the comforting world of tools and grease and mechanical problems.

  Working in the shop gave a man a lot of time to think. All day Thursday and Friday, and again on Saturday morning, Luke had thought about what it meant to be a father. About what Peyton had said about doing his best, about not blaming himself for the past and not letting that be the wall to the future. He’d always worried that he wouldn’t live up to people’s expectations—and truth be told, he probably hadn’t done a good job of that at all—but with a child, those expectations weren’t very high. Maybe he really had gotten through to Maddy, or maybe it had just been dumb luck that he connected so easily with his daughter. To Luke, it seemed as if all kids wanted was someone to listen to silly songs about whales and lemons, to hang up their messy paintings on the fridge and to just be there.

  Peyton was right. As worried as Luke had been about screwing it up, so far, he hadn’t. That made him wonder if maybe it wasn’t too late to rebuild other relationships in his life. To start being there for the other people he had let down in the past. Today, not ten years from now.

  After his lunch break on Saturday, he walked over to Jeremiah’s house. He stood on the porch, where the old sofa still sat, faded by time and sun. Luke stood there a good long time, debating, then finally rang the bell. Jeremiah’s mother gave Luke a surprised hug when she opened the door, then practically danced him down the hall to Jeremiah’s room.

  The dark room was caught in a time warp. Dusty trophies from middle school and high school crammed the shelves lining the space above Jeremiah’s bed, now a hospital bed instead of the old battered twin he’d had as a kid. Pennants for sports teams arrowed across the blue painted walls, and a small army of old Lego toys crowded together on top of the dresser. The gray carpeting was gone, switched out for hardwood floors that wouldn’t snag the wheelchair, and the doorway had been widened to accommodate the chair’s width. But other than that, not much had changed. Jeremiah lay in his bed, a game controller on his lap, and some video game with aliens and soldiers played on the television, filling the room with the sounds of artificial gunfire.

  Jeremiah sent Luke a nod. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” The guilt slammed into Luke like a fresh, stinging slap across his face. He fought the urge to make small talk and then leave, as he’d done a hundred times before, back in the first years after the accident. Then it had gotten too hard to be here, and Luke’s visits had trickled away to nothing. It had to have been almost nine months, maybe more, since he’d stood in this room. He took one look at Jeremiah’s sallow skin and sunken eyes and decided being out of the cave he called a house would be good for his friend. “You want to come down to the garage this afternoon?”

  Jeremiah twisted the controller right and slammed the buttons until the alien on the screen evaporated in a faux bloody cloud. “Nah. I’m good.”

  “Come on, come with me. I need someone to tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

  “Hell, I don’t remember any of that stuff. It’s been years since I worked for your dad.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to ask you to change out a transmission. Just keep me company.”

  Jeremiah didn’t answer. He kept on shooting.

  This was when Luke usually left. The uncomfortable silence, the way Jeremiah ignored him, the way the trophies on the wall seemed to mock Luke—if you hadn’t been so distracted, there’d be more trophies, more life in this room—but this time, he held his ground. He moved in front of the TV and blocked the game. “Let’s go. This room is depressing as hell.”

  “No one’s asking you to stay.”

  “And no one’s chaining you to this bed, either. Get up and out the door, and get some sun before you turn into a vampire.”

  Jeremiah sighed and laid the controller to the side. “You are a total pain in the ass, you know that?”

  “I hear that’s my best quality.” Luke grinned. He reached for Jeremiah’s wheelchair and moved it beside the bed. “While you’re at the garage, what do you say we put a 350 on this thing? Make it really hum?”

  Jeremiah shook his head and a slight smile crossed his face. “My mother would kill you.”

  “Nah. She already told me she wants to adopt me. She likes my charming smile.”

  “She says that to every stray who walks in the door.” But there was another smile at the corners of Jeremiah’s mouth, and after a moment, he slid across the bed and into the chair. As he reached under his legs to lift them into place, Luke felt that slap of guilt again.

  Your fault. You should have been paying attention. Should never have gone to that party.

  Luke leaned forward. “Here, let me help—”

  Jeremiah jerked away. “I got it.” He shifted his weight in the seat, then gave the wheels a push and headed out of the room. Over Jeremiah’s head, his mother whispered, “Thank you,” to Luke, but at that moment, Luke didn’t feel as though he’d done a damned thing worth anyone’s gratitude.

  The garage smelled of motor oil and gasoline. Dust motes floated in lazy streams across the room, but the space was clean, neat and organized. Tools lay in the chests and in designated drawers, and supplies stacked the shelves lining the walls.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the place this clean,” Jeremiah said. “Since when did your dad get so organized?”

  “I did it.” Luke shrugged. “I got tired of trying to find stuff, so I spent a weekend getting it all straightened out.”

  “You? Organized?”

  Luke shrugged again. “It caters to my inner laziness. I spend less time looking for the impact wrench, and more time with the ladies.”

  Jeremiah laughed. “Now, that sounds like the Luke Barlow I know.” He wheeled to a space beside the workbench and backed his chair against the wall. “So, how many are you dating at once now? Two? Ten?”

  “None.” Then Luke reconsidered the answer. After that kiss at the zoo... “One.”

  “One? You’re slipping, Luke. I count on you for living vicariously.”

  “Nothing’s stopping you from getting out there and dating.”

  “Nothing but this.” He smacked the arms of the wheelchair. “It doesn’t exactly scream date me.”

  “The right girl—”

  “Doesn’t live here.” Jeremiah nodded toward the Mazda sitting in the bay. “What you working on here?”

  “Joe’s been having trouble starting it. I figure it’s either the plugs or the ignition coil. If you want to help, you can hand me tools and tell me what to do.”

  Jeremiah shrugged, as if he didn’t care one way or another. “I got nothing better to do.”

  As Luke got to work, Jeremiah began to ask questions, offer his advice on using this part over that part, replacing this over that. Jeremiah had always had an innate sense for what was wrong with a car, and as Luke tinkered with the engine, Jeremiah became more and more involved, even climbing out of his chair to slide under the car and give his two cents on the brakes. For a minute, it was like the old days when the two of them had worked in Gator’s on weekends and during the summer. They finished up the Mazda, and Luke switched it out for a Chevy that needed a new muffler.

  He was just finishing up the exhaust job when he saw a pair of familiar shoes enter his line of vision. They b
linked little red lights, and that made Luke grin. He braced his hands against the underside of the car, then pushed, sending the wheeled creeper rolling out from under the Chevy.

  Peyton stood just behind Maddy, a protective hand on her niece’s shoulder. The two of them were the picture of late summer, with floral-print sundresses. Maddy’s hair was swooped into a ponytail, but Peyton had left her blond locks long and curly around her shoulders. She had on simple white sandals, and he noticed a fresh coat of red polish on her toes. He wondered if she’d done that because she was going to see him, or if she always painted her toenails. His heart skipped a beat and he grabbed a rag from the bench to wipe the worst of the grease from his hands. “What brings you beautiful ladies into the garage?”

  Peyton gave Maddy a little nudge. “Go ahead, sweetie. It was your idea.”

  “We wanna go on a picnic,” Maddy said. “And we wanna ask you to go, too.”

  “A picnic?” He bent down to Maddy’s level. “Is there gonna be fried chicken and potato salad?”

  “I was going to pick up some healthier options,” Peyton said. “Salads.”

  Jeremiah snorted. “Salads? What kind of picnic is that?”

  Peyton gave him a smile. “Hey, Jeremiah. I haven’t seen you in years.”

  “Nice to see you, too, Peyton.” He nodded toward Maddy. “You have a kid?”

  “She’s Susannah’s daughter. This is Maddy.” Peyton bent down and waved toward Jeremiah. “Maddy, this is Jeremiah, Luke’s friend.”

  “How’s come you’re sitting in a chair with wheels?” Maddy asked.

  His brows rose in surprise, but he offered Maddy a good-natured smile. “My legs don’t work anymore.”

  “How’s come?”

  Jeremiah shifted in his seat, and Luke braced himself for the answer. Because my best friend stopped paying attention at the worst possible time. Because Luke let me down. Because—

  “Because I made some stupid choices.” Jeremiah cleared his throat, his face pained, and the shadows that had been temporarily erased in the garage were back in place in his eyes. “Anyway, I better get home. See ya, Luke.”