Page 104 of The Prodigal Son

“Yes, please,” he mutters, sounding tired as he drops into a chair at my small kitchen dinette.

I get started making a pot of coffee and watch him out of the corner of my eye. I’ll wait for him to start.

“I’ve given a lot of thought to you two,” he says with an exasperated sigh.

“And?”

“He clearly cares about you a lot,” he says.

I nod while scooping coffee grounds into the basket. “I care about him a lot. I love him.”

“I could tell he loved you, even before the show that night. I know Isaac well, probably better than anyone. I know he puts up a front and pretends that everything is a joke or can be laughed off, but deep down, he’s just scared and lonely like the rest of us. And just because your job doesn’t bother him doesn’t mean it’s not a risk.”

“I know that,” I mutter as I turn toward him.

He relaxes in his chair and stares at me. “All that said…I think you could be really good for him, and I hope this works out.”

My brows shoot upward. Then, a smile slowly creeps across my face. “That was unexpected.”

He shrugs. “I’m an unpredictable guy.”

For some reason, this makes me laugh, mostly because I know he’s full of shit, and he’s probably the most predictable guy in their whole family.

“So, what changed your mind?” I ask, pulling down mugs from the cabinet.

“He did,” Luke replies bluntly.

I pause and turn toward him with expectation.

“Eleven years ago, Isaac showed up on my doorstep with so much anger and resentment against not just our father but the world. Then, he turned that anger and resentment into fire. It has fueled him in every way since the day he left. He hides it well behind sarcasm and wit, but the truth is that even his career doesn’t make him truly happy. Even his success is a by-product of what our father did to him.

“But since he met you…he’s different. It’s like…getting to see the real Isaac again. The one who isn’t living in the shadow of that man anymore. His smiles aren’t ironic anymore. He’s just happy. And I think all along, what he really needed was someone who could prove to him that not all preachers are bad. Not all men of faith are cruel. Not everyone who comes into his life wants something from him or wants him to change.”

Frozen in my kitchen, I stare at the man at the table who’s talking about the person I love, and it suddenly hits me that it doesn’t matter that this world is much bigger than me and Isaac. Because as long as I can be what he needs, and he can be what I need, then nothing else matters. Opinions and rumors don’t fucking matter.

“I don’t want Isaac to change at all,” I say. “I love him very much.”

Luke’s chest expands with a long breath before he nods. “I know you do, so I will not bother asking you to take good care of him. Because I know you’ll just tell me you plan to.”

“I do plan to.”

“That’s the best any of us can do, right?”

“Right.”

Turning around, I pour coffee into the mugs and bring them over to the table before grabbing the creamer from the fridge. Then Luke and I have our coffee and make small talk, and for a moment, everything seems fine.

I don’t tell him about Truett’s call to Isaac because that’s not my story to tell, but I am curious if Luke knows Isaac’s plans to reunite with their family. But I let him bring it up.

“If he comes back home, you’ll be with him, I hope,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I reply.

“Good. You’ll get a front-row view of my older brother murdering me on the dining room table. Right next to the mashed potatoes.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “You think he’ll be that mad to learn that you’ve been taking care of Isaac all this time?”

“Livid.”

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