Just a Little Reminder
Page 9
Matt had already been gone for two weeks, and we’d only heard from him every single day. He seemed to be enjoying the college experience so far, but it was easy to sense his homesickness. Some days he’d only call for a minute or two, and other days he’d talk for hours. And as much as I loved hearing all about his freshman adventures, I couldn’t wait for him to come home. I missed him like crazy.
And somehow—though I’ll never know how—Matt and I had both (slowly, but surely) gotten over losing Kara.
Charlie and I had been back in the house for a couple months, and thankfully the termites were a thing of the past. Matt, Bruno, and Luke had all pitched in and helped Charlie with the necessary attic repairs, and I took the liberty of supervising the job and offered a lot of ‘good job, fellas’ encouragements whenever it felt necessary.
Shortly after we settled in, Charlie finally offered up Dad’s cedar box. It wasn’t so much the box that I’d been hoping to get my hands on, but the irreplaceable piece of my father’s history kept inside the velvet-lined interior. It was the key to the city bestowed to my father eighteen years earlier by the mayor of West Bridge. It was an honor and a recognition given by the city in thanks for Dad’s bravery on the force. Next to the Medal of Honor he received later that year, the West Bridge key meant more to him than other material possession.
Luke had given me his mother’s key, and I planned to give him my father’s.
But it was all about the timing….
“I have a million things to tell you!”
“Great. I’m glad,” he said, and his smile stretched a little wider than it ever had. “Listen,” he said clutching his keys in his palm. “I’m just on my way out; can we catch up in a little bit?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, watching as he blinked a few too many times. I looked down to his palms again and noticed they were unusually sweaty. His chest rose with each deep breath he took, and he seemed in far too much of a hurry to shrug me off. “I just… I had a lot I wanted to tell you—”
“And I really want to hear all about it, Jules, I do,” he said, reaching forward and placing his hand on my shoulder. “But I’m running late for an important dinner, and—”
“Go,” I said, managing a smile.
Luke gave me an apologetic nod and turned toward the staircase. I stood watching from the second-floor landing as he stopped mid-way down the steps and turned back.
“I’ll call later,” he said, looking back up at me. “I promise.”
I managed a smile and nodded.
Luke gave me a discreet wink and turned back, finishing the stairs at a quick pace.
I followed slowly down the stairs, and by the time I’d reached the first floor, Luke headed for the next street.
I watched as he scurried away against the cool wind, I and noticed a small piece of paper sticking up from his back pocket. With each stride he took, the paper revealed itself a little more. By the time he turned the corner at the end of the street, it hung by just a corner. Whipping against the wind with each step he took, the wind caught it and pulled it loose.
It flew from his jeans and onto the street, and I couldn’t help but smile as I initially thought that’s a third-degree misdemeanor, Lucas Reibeck.
He hadn’t seemed to notice that he’d lost the crumpled piece of paper, so I took a few brisk lunges forward to pick it up as it tumbled quickly down the street.
By the time I clutched it in my hand and looked back up to find Luke, he was nowhere to be found.
I let my eyes fall back to the note he’d lost, and I quickly recognized the floral printed paper—it was a page from my dream journal. I unfolded the creased edges and let my eyes sweep across my barely legible scribbles. I stood on the street—the wind ripping through my hair—as I re-read the words I’d written a few months earlier.
It was the alternate ending to a terrible dream, the one I’d asked him to read. I’d forgotten all about it… until that moment… and I couldn’t believe he’d kept it all that time.
Did that mean he’d finally read it?
“My God,” I whispered under my breath as I re-read my words, and my heart suddenly swelled against my chest. I looked up to the corner where Luke had just disappeared, and I suddenly found my legs sprinting in his direction.
I’m running late for an important dinner.
He’d left on foot which meant he hadn’t planned to go too far. Obviously that meant he’d be eating in the historic district, and that didn’t leave many options. I let my eyes wander the tables of the outdoor café and didn’t see any familiar faces. Surely Luke wouldn’t drop in the diner across the street for an important dinner, but I ran over there and pressed my nose against the glass to check nonetheless. When I didn’t find him inside, the only other place I could think to look was the French bistro.
I jogged to the nearest intersection and crossed when the light turned green. Clenching the paper in my hands, I walked quickly down the sidewalk and stopped short just outside the bistro. Like I’d done back at the diner, I pressed my nose against the glass to peer inside.
The restaurant was packed; dozens of couples, a few small families, and (what appeared to be) a couple business men occupied the intimate space. In the farthest corner of the room, I caught a glimpse of Luke as he sat—still a little flustered—across the table from someone else. I couldn’t see past the heads of the diners closest to me, so I moved away from the window and headed for the entrance. I threw open the door and ducked inside, greeted the host with a simple smile, and declined any assistance.
“I’m just waiting on someone,” I lied, and then I peered around the room.
I spotted Luke again, and my heart sank a little lower when I recognized the other person sitting across the table.
I looked down to the crumpled piece of paper, unfolded it, and read it again.
It’d been a long drive to West Bridge, and I wasn’t really sure why we’d even bothered leaving Oakland in the first place. We pull up to the curb—Luke at the wheel—and he gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
We eventually get out of the car and come together, both of us eager to hold on to the other. We stand in the driveway—admiring the house—for what seems like an hour. I point out my bedroom window. We talk about the tire swing and how Mattie fell from the tree and broke his arm. He laughs, I laugh. Everything is lighthearted, familiar, and comfortable.
We go up to the door and ring the bell, and a beautiful young woman answers the door. I introduce myself, tell her that I used to live in the house and that I’d simply wanted to stop by and wish her and her family all of the best love and memories, just like the ones my family had.
She accepts my warm wishes and closes the door, and Luke and I walk away.
I’d only asked Luke to tag along so he could see the place where I’d grown up. We weren’t there for any other reason—not even for a marital blessing.
He wasn’t upset that he never got to meet my parents; after all, they’ve been gone all along. He understands that their paths were never meant to cross, and neither of us waste a moment questioning the reasons behind life and death.
I tell him that I love him, and even if he doesn’t say it back, I know that I don’t have to hear it.
Luke loves me, and I love him.
And we’re finally together, finally getting the chance to start living our lives as a team. I tell him not to worry about the future or asking for my father’s blessing.
But—I tell him with a smile—if he really wants to marry me, and it’ll makes him feel better having permission, he could always ask Charlie… because Charlie’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a father.
My eyes drifted back up from the paper and back to the table where Luke sat opposite of Uncle Charlie.
Surely not….
Luke wouldn’t have taken the dream entry so seriously… right?
I watched the two men in deep conversation for what felt like an eternity, and Charlie’s expression never changed as Luke
talked.
After a few minutes of listening to Luke’s speech—whatever that may have been—Charlie excused himself. At Charlie’s absence, Luke took a deep breath and let it pass slowly through his lips. He passed his cloth napkin through his fingers and never once touched the bread in front of him. After another minute, he dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling, and then he slowly closed his eyes.
He sat quietly in that position for nearly thirty seconds, and then he finally opened his eyes and sat a little straighter in the chair. He leaned to the side, pulled his cell phone from his back pocket, and started smacking his thumbs against the screen.
No sooner than he set his phone aside on the table, a loud ringtone echoed against the four small walls of the bistro’s anteroom.
My cell phone!
I sifted through the college catalogs and all the other junk lining the bottom of my purse, but I couldn’t find my buried phone. The longer it played, the louder it got. And suddenly everyone in the restaurant had turned in their seats to watch my frantic search.
I found my phone buried beneath my wallet and pulled it out. I hit a single button to kill the sound, and then I took a deep breath as I read:
One New Message
Luke
I opened the message and read:
Sorry about earlier. I’ll call soon. I love you.
My lip curved into an involuntary smile, and when I looked back up to see him, Luke was turned in his chair—like many of the other patrons—staring directly at me.
I guessed my phone had made more of a commotion than the formal diners typically preferred, and I stared nervously at each face before letting my gaze fall back on Luke.
He watched me from across the room with a skeptical gleam in his eye.
Ah… yes. He wanted to know why I’d followed him.
I looked down at the note again and then back up to him.
I saw that he’d noticed the paper clutched in my fingers, and he reached around to feel his empty back pocket.
He took another deep breath, twisted his lips, and then his eyes met mine again.
I held the note a little higher.
What’s going on? What are you doing here?
I didn’t have to ask. I knew he could sense those very questions.
He picked up his phone again and started typing, and I held mine close—ready to silence it the moment it went off.
One New Message
Luke
I took a deep breath, feeling my heart grow heavier and heavier with each slamming beat against my chest.
I opened the message, and my eyes filled with tears.
For what it’s worth, he hasn’t said no.
I tore my eyes from the screen after reading the message at least a dozen times, and Luke was still turned in his chair.
With a discreet wink, a crooked smile, and a simple shrug, he turned back around to face my uncle just as he returned to the table.
For what it’s worth, he hasn’t said no.
What did that mean?
Had Luke asked Charlie to dinner because of the alternate ending I’d given him?
And if so, wouldn’t that mean that he’d planned to ask my uncle for his blessing?
And wouldn’t that mean that….
No.
Surely not.
I looked back up to Luke and Charlie and caught a breath in my throat.
Was Luke going to propose?
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