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Waiting on You

Page 30

by Kristan Higgins


  "I'll do my best, Coll," Jeremy said.

  "You should try working with him," Emmaline said. "He calls her constantly. 'How you feeling, babe? You need anything, sweetheart?' It sickens me." She smiled at Faith, then looked over at Levi. "You're a horrible boss," she added.

  "Then quit," he answered easily. "Jeremy would hire you in a heartbeat."

  "That's true, Emmaline," Jer said. "I pay better, too."

  "But can I carry a gun in a doctor's office?" she asked.

  "It does tend to send the wrong message," Jeremy said.

  "And speaking of love," Faith said.

  "Oh, are we gonna talk about Carl and me?" Prudence asked. "I have to say, doing it in a car was a lot more awkward than I remembered. My back started to spasm when he--"

  Faith put her hand over her sister's mouth.

  "When he what?" Colleen asked.

  "Don't answer," Faith said. "I wanted to talk about Paulie. What happened with her and Bryce, Colleen?"

  Colleen sighed. "One of my rare failures."

  "Bryce Campbell?" Jessica asked.

  "Yeah."

  "He's kind of a slut, isn't he?" Emmaline said.

  "Yep."

  "Poor Paulie," Faith said. "She's so nice." She sighed. "Well, how are things with you and Lucas, Coll?"

  "Let's talk about Connor instead, how's that? Does anyone know who he's seeing? Other than his blow-up doll?"

  "I'm right here," Connor said.

  "Really. What a shock." At that moment, her phone rang. She looked at it. "It's Lucas. I'm going to make him wait because I'm just not the type to throw over my friends for a guy-- Con, where are you going?"

  "I'm leaving. I have to call my mystery woman."

  "I'm tapping your phone.

  "I have to go, too," Emmaline said. "Ink Wars is on. See you around."

  "Me, too," Prudence said. "It's RPG night at the Vanderbeek household. Abby's sleeping over at Helena's house, thank God."

  "What's RPG?" Faith asked.

  "Role playing game," Pru said blithely. "Professor Snape and McGonagall." She gave a lurid wink.

  "Harry Potter? You're ruining Harry Potter?" Faith yelped. "Is nothing sacred anymore?"

  "Not ruining anything," Pru said. "Enhancing."

  "I just threw up in my mouth," Faith said.

  "Have fun, Pru," Colleen said as Pru, married for twenty-some-odd years, sauntered off. "You have to admire the creativity," she added.

  "I admire nothing," Faith said. "So. You and Lucas. Spill. Why didn't you take his call?"

  "I'm mad at him."

  "Why?"

  Colleen didn't answer right away. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just...I wonder if we're only sleeping together because we're in the same town. Because it's convenient. His ex-wife's in town, and I understand that she was part of his family for years, and he was part of hers, but I'm still seething with jealousy. Oh, and she's engaged and pregnant, but she and Lucas are still best friends forever, apparently. She's staying at his apartment."

  "Oh, dear," Faith said.

  "Exactly. That's bad, right?"

  "No, I was just murmuring over the seething part." She paused. "Why is she staying with him?"

  "Because the Black Swan double-booked."

  "Oh, yeah. They did that in January, when Liza and Mike came out for the wedding, remember? Anyway." She took a sip of water. "Is he staying here after Joe...passes away?"

  "No." The thought of him leaving made her throat clamp shut.

  "Would you move to--"

  "No." She took a shaky breath. "Not that he's asked. I mean, we haven't talked about it, because...well, shit, Faith, I don't know. I'm afraid. The truth is, I'm ridiculously inexperienced with serious relationships. Tell me what to do."

  "Me? I've had two relationships, and they're sitting in that booth over there."

  "Well, what do I know?" Colleen whispered. "I'm the queen of flirting but I haven't had a boyfriend in years. I've fixed up dozens of people, and I give out advice like Dr. Phil, and what has that ever gotten me? I'm thirty-one years old, I've been in love once, and I'm utterly terrified that Lucas is going to break my heart, same as last time."

  And much to her surprise, Colleen burst into tears.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  "UNCLE JOE, YOU handsome devil." Stephanie bent down and gave Joe a big hug, then kissed his cheek and wiped off the red lip imprint. "Girls, remember Uncle Joe?"

  The older girls gave out hugs with good-natured duty. Chloe, on the other hand, stared him down. "I'm sorry you're dying," she said solemnly.

  Didi looked as though she'd just stepped in a Rufus-sized pile of dog shit. Joe, on the other hand, laughed. "Thanks, honey. For a minute, I thought I'd already died, because you girls are as pretty as angels. You, too, Stephie!"

  Lucas's sister and kids--and Frank and Grace Forbes--had flown in that morning and taken a limo from the airport straight here, to the park by the lake, where you could reserve picnic areas and grills.

  "Frank, Grace, I would've been happy to have had this at our house," Didi simpered, shooting Lucas a death glare. "If only I'd known you were coming. Of course, our place is nothing like yours, but we think it's sweet, and I would've loved to have had you." That hadn't been the case when Didi thought it was just going to be the Campbells, of course, and Lucas had taken a small modicum of pleasure in denying his aunt the opportunity to kiss up to his former in-laws.

  "This is perfect," Grace said. "Ellen, honey, sit down and drink something."

  The girls ran and splashed; Lucas had bought some little balsa-wood boats at the hardware store, and in the face of good old-fashioned fun, the electronic devices were cheerfully forgotten. Didi cooed over Ellen and tried to act rich, mentioning her Coach bag and how you had to pay for nice things, of course Grace knew all about that, no, it wasn't as if Didi and Joe were anywhere nearly as comfortable as Grace and Frank, of course not, but they did all right, not that she was bragging, but New York wasn't a cheap place to live, and she was smart with her finances, not Forbes-smart, of course not, no, but she admired quality. Ellen caught his eye and gave the slightest grin; both she and her mother were too polite to do anything more than that.

  Frank and Joe talked and laughed, Joe doing his best to act robust. He'd sleep like the dead after this.

  An unfortunate choice of words.

  "Get out of the way, little brother," Stephanie said with an ungentle shove. "I always made these better than you." She took the spatula from him and checked the foil-wrapped sandwiches he was grilling--chicken and ham and pickles, replicas of the cubanos Joe always used to get from Diego's in the old neighborhood when he'd visit.

  "Aren't these bad for him?" Steph asked quietly.

  "Yep."

  She nodded, and a tear fell onto the grill with a small hiss. "So how much time has he got?"

  "The dialysis can keep him indefinitely," Lucas answered. "But the cancer's spreading, and he wants get while the getting's good. Or at least, before it gets horrific."

  "Can't blame him, I guess." Steph swallowed thickly, then added more mustard to the rolls. "How's Bryce holding up?" she asked, nodding over at their cousin, who was hurling the girls into the water, much to their shrieking delight.

  "He's Bryce. He won't talk about Joe actually dying, and he won't let Joe talk about it, either."

  Steph's mouth wobbled. "I wasn't as close to Uncle Joe as you were, obviously, but he was--is--so sweet. I wasn't ready for how old he looked." She wiped her eyes subtly, then waved to Mercedes, who had eyes like a hawk. "When are we having the talk?"

  "A little later."

  For now, Joe could eat a few bites of regular food, take a few sips of beer, and be with his family. There was salad and coleslaw and ribs and watermelon, and chocolate chip cookies from the smiling woman at the bakery, as well as a cooler full of iced teas, soda and beers, and a bottle of wine for Grace; a Blue Heron dry Riesling, sold to him by Colleen's mother this very morning.

&
nbsp; A couple hours later, when they had all eaten and Joe had taken a nap on the lounge chair in the shade, Lucas asked Bryce to take the girls out on one of the tour boats that ran every two hours.

  "Don't you want to come, Uncle Lucas?" Chloe asked.

  "I'll stay here and talk to the grown-ups," he said.

  "Then I want to stay, too."

  "We're talking about banking. It's very boring."

  "I love banking."

  "Good," he said. "It's high time you had a job. But for now, off you go."

  "Chloe, don't be a twit," Mercedes said, taking her little sister by the hand. "We're being ostracized."

  "Nice word," Lucas said.

  "Thanks. I'm in AP English."

  "Yes. You've told me seven or eight times now." He winked at her, and she smiled as she walked away.

  "Come on, girls," Bryce said, scooping up a twin under each arm. "I hope you don't fall overboard. You know there's a monster in this lake, and it loves little girls." They shrieked obligingly, and if Bryce wondered why he was the only adult going out on the lake, he didn't ask about it.

  When they were off, Lucas got Ellen another bottle of water. Didi was asking about Ellen and Steve's wedding and trying to finagle an invitation in her unsubtle way. "Will you have many guests? Oh, I just love Chicago in September! I haven't been since that wonderful party your parents had in--"

  "Why don't we get down to business?" he interrupted, sitting between his sister and Ellen. Joe gave him a nod and folded his hands. "Didi, I'll get right to it. Joe would like a divorce."

  Her sycophantic smile froze, and her head jerked back a fraction. "That's...that's..." She shot a nervous glance at Frank and Grace, who stared back impassively. "Very funny, Lucas."

  "It's not a joke."

  "Of course it is! I wouldn't divorce my sick husband!"

  "I want to divorce you, however," Joe said.

  Didi's face was white, and for a second, Lucas almost felt bad for her...right up until he remembered that she'd stuck Joe in that dark, windowless room where he used to sleep.

  "Didi," Ellen said, her hand on her stomach, "New York State law says that a couple has to be separated for six months before they get a divorce."

  "He'll be dead in six months," Didi said. "Probably long before."

  Grace Forbes closed her eyes briefly, the only indication of her disapproval.

  "We know a judge who'll push it through, so long as you don't contest it," Ellen continued.

  The Forbes name was far-reaching, after all.

  "I will contest it!" Didi snapped. "What would people think if I divorced Joe a month before he died? Is this some ploy to cut me out of your will, Joe? Not that I need your pathetic life insurance--"

  "My money's in a trust for Bryce until he gets married," Joe said calmly. "Lucas is in charge of it until then."

  "I doubt very much he'll ever get married. He's not the type. And a trust fund? For twenty thousand dollars? Why bother?"

  And so Joe told her how Apple had bought his new app for $1.5 million.

  Didi's face bloomed with red. "I'll fight this," she hissed.

  "The will is iron-clad," Ellen said calmly, pushing her blond hair behind her ears. "And remember that prenup? You don't get any proceeds from Joe's intellectual property. No judge in the world would have a problem with that."

  In other words, the prenup that had forced Joe to stay with Didi was now biting her in the ass. It had a certain karmic justice to it.

  "Didi," Lucas said, "Joe's going to file the papers one way or another, even if he dies before a divorce can go through. If you fight it, I'm guessing that everyone will wonder why that nice Joe Campbell wanted to get away from you so badly."

  "But--"

  "But if you grant him an uncontested divorce," Lucas said, "he'll keep it quiet, and no one will have to know. Not even Bryce."

  "So? I think Bryce should know that his father is behaving like an ass!"

  "Didi," Grace said in her gentle voice, "I understand how shocking this is. And honestly, I think it's awfully bighearted of you to even consider it--"

  "I'm not considering it!"

  "--granting the father of your son his last wish. Even if it seems hard to comprehend, since you've been such a loving wife all these years."

  The sarcasm was lost on Didi.

  "But if this is Joe's last wish, it seems so...uncouth to disregard it."

  Didi's eyes flickered. Colleen had been right. Reputation was everything to Didi.

  This was, of course, why Grace and Frank were here. That, and to say goodbye to Joe.

  "And of course, we'd still think of you as part of the family," Grace went on, giving Lucas a wry glance. "We'd hope you'd still come visit for New Year's and such."

  Didi's expression turned speculative.

  She'd always loved that New Year's Eve party, after all. She glanced at Joe, and Lucas could practically see her doing the math. Bryce would have his own money, enough for his own place. He wouldn't live in his mother's basement anymore, not with more than a cool million in the bank.

  But if she got invited to the famous Forbes New Year's Eve party, she could find some rich guy. After all, there was no accounting for some people's taste.

  "It's stressful, I'm sure," Frank said. "Once all the paperwork is filed and the dust has settled, you should plan on spending some time at the lake house for a little rest."

  That sealed the deal. The Forbes lake house was more like a compound, acres and acres of waterfront property in Wisconsin, several wooden boats and a live-in housekeeper. Triumph shone in Didi's pale eyes. "That's so generous of you, Frank," she said. "I'd love that. But only if it's what Joe wants."

  *

  LATER, WHEN THE details had been agreed on and Didi had left, and after Steph took the girls back to Lucas's apartment, where they'd be spending the night, and Ellen and her parents had headed back to Chicago, Lucas wheeled Joe down to the dock, Bryce alongside him.

  "Push me in," Joe said merrily. "Save me the trouble."

  "Dad, don't even joke about that. You look great. What are we doing down here?"

  "I thought we'd take a sail," Lucas said. "If you don't mind going out on the water again, Bryce."

  "No, not a bit. I love boats."

  Carol Robinson owned a rarely used sailboat, and when Lucas asked if he could take his uncle out on it, she only charged him a kiss on the cheek. "Use it, use it!" she said. "That Joe is a nice man."

  He and Bryce lifted Joe into the boat, which was a sweet little sloop. Lucas wasn't a great sailor, but he was good enough to take the boat out; Colleen had taught him back in the day. The past couple of years, when his divorce created too many solitary nights, he'd taken some lessons, too.

  The sun was setting, that time of evening when daylight seemed reluctant to go, and filled the air with golden light. Joe sat in the bow and immediately closed his eyes, Lucas in the back with his hand on the rudder, his cousin next to him. The sails caught the wind and the boat slid out into the deep blue water.

  Lucas looked at Bryce. "Everything okay?" he asked.

  "Sure. Just...I don't know."

  Maybe the reality of his father's condition was dawning on him. It was hard to believe it hadn't yet.

  "I miss Paulie," Bryce said.

  Not what Lucas expected to hear. "She's a good person."

  "Yeah. Doesn't judge and stuff."

  They rounded Meering Point. A bunch of kids were playing under a waterfall, their gleeful shrieks carrying on the wind. "Bryce," Lucas said after a minute, "you ever think you sell yourself short?"

  Bryce gave him a questioning look.

  "You've got more going on than you think," Lucas continued. "You're like your dad. Heart of gold, not a mean bone in your body. Why do you think you're so good with animals? And kids? You saw how the girls love you."

  "Yeah, they're great." He picked at a hole in his jeans.

  "Maybe you need to believe in yourself a little more."

&n
bsp; "Easier said than done," Bryce said.

  Lucas paused. "Why?"

  Bryce shrugged and glanced at his father, who appeared to be sound asleep. "I don't know, Lucas. Maybe because I'll never be as good as you."

  Lucas blinked.

  "I mean, not that there's a competition. You have a great job--"

  "Which I'm leaving."

  "--you married a Forbes--"

  "And divorced a Forbes."

  "--and you never left Chicago. Dad thinks you walk on water." He paused. "That's why he sent for you. To take care of me, right?"

  "Well, not the only reason. But yeah, he's worried about you. He wants to see you settled."

  Bryce swallowed. "Settled how? Married with kids?"

  "I think you could start with getting a job, buddy."

  "Doing what?"

  "Doing anything. No shame in hard work." The boat was really skipping along now, the waves slapping sharply against the hull.

  "My mom says I should wait till I have something I'm totally into. No need to do grunt work."

  "You can start out with grunt work. I did. Lots of successful people did. Right? Paulie's father used to clean chicken shit, if you believe his commercials."

  Bryce pondered that. "Don't you think it's better to be unemployed and kinda cool, or have a job doing grunt work?"

  "Bryce. You're thirty-one years old. Being unemployed is not cool. Get a job."

  He nodded. "Yeah, I guess." He paused. "Maybe Paulie would think...well. That I grew up a little."

  "Do it. Show her you're worth a second chance," Lucas said.

  "I don't even know if I like her that way."

  "Have you ever missed a girl you'd broken up with before?"

  "Nope." Bryce glanced at him and smiled. "But Paulie's not my usual type."

  "What is your usual type?"

  "Slutty and beautiful. The fling type."

  Lucas laughed. Colleen had said something like that, too. "Maybe it's time to try something else, then. Have some faith in yourself, Bryce. You can be good at something other than video games and dog adoptions, you know." He squeezed his cousin on the shoulder, and Bryce smiled.

  "Yeah. You're right, dude. Thanks for the pep talk."

  "It's what I'm here for. Now go sit with your father."

  Joe woke up as his son sat next to him, and he put his arm around Bryce's shoulders. Bryce kissed his father's head, and the two sat in the breeze, the sun making the water quiver in the shimmering light.

  Lucas turned his head, sensing that this was the goodbye Joe so wanted with his son.

  He would've given a lot to have been able to say goodbye to his own father this way...or any way. To have felt his father's arm around him once more, to have held his hand when he finally slipped away, instead of knowing he died alone on a cold cement floor in the prison basement in a state he'd never seen except through bars.

 

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