Page 39 of Sloth
“Matthew would have wanted to be here raising that kid himself.” He walks out the door, slamming it behind him, and when I turn back to Luke, all I see is devastation.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LUKE
“Idon’t think us coming here was a good idea,” Erin tells me as we pull up at my parents’ ranch. Seeing the look of disappointment in my father’s eyes hurt like hell. I shouldn’t have struck him as hard as I did; I shouldn’t have struck him at all. It’s just that when it comes to her, I have no fuckin’ control.
“I told you, you should have stayed at home,” I tell her, getting out the truck and slamming the door in frustration. I calm myself as I walk around the hood to open Erin’s door for her. I have to remain calm - try and patch things up best I can. But if my old man thinks he can disrespect her again, he’ll see how intolerant I am to that bullshit.
“Your dad's truck’s not here.” Erin looks around the yard, sounding worried, and when I step up onto the porch, I can tell by the way Mom greets us that she has no idea what's happened.
“I thought that sounded like your truck.” She stretches up to kiss my cheek. “And don’t you look pretty.” She complements Erin before she kisses her, too, opening the door wider so we can both step inside. I take a deep breath and head inside, preparing to see that look of disappointment all over again. I’m used to seeing it from Dad, but never from her. I already know how much it’s gonna hurt.
“I’m sorry, your dad isn’t home yet. He had somewhere to be, but I’m sure he’ll be back any minute. Take a seat,” Mom offers, rushing to the kitchen and bringing out a tray. “I made lemonade; it used to be your favorite, remember?” She smiles as she pours me a glass from the jug, and I can’t take it anymore.
“Mom, we know why Dad’s late, and me and Erin have something to tell you.” I place the glass she hands me down on the table and take hold of Erin’s hand. “Since Matthew passed, the two of us have grown close,” I explain, looking to Erin and seeing how nervous she is. “In fact, we’ve found that the connection between us is…erm…”
“It's about time.” Mom shocks us both when she laughs, pouring out another glass and handing it to Erin.
“Mom, what I’m saying is that the two of us–”
“I know what you're saying, son. I may need to have my cataracts done, but I’m not blind.” She giggles.
“But aren’t you mad?” Erins asks, her eyes all pretty and confused.
“Mad about my son falling in love with a girl that I already know I love like a daughter? Mad to know that the woman Matthew left behind is gonna be loved and adored? What's there to be mad about…and what does this have to do with your father being late home?” Now it’s Mom who’s looking confused.
“Dad doesn’t share your opinion. He stopped by the house about half an hour ago and caught us in a situation that he wasn’t prepared for,” I try explaining it in the politest way I can.
“I see.” Mom rests back in her chair thoughtfully.
“He said something unkind about Erin, and I struck him for it.” I hang my head, knowing I should have handled it better.
“You struck your father?” Mom shocks me again when she starts to laugh.
“I always told him one day you’d surprise him.” She shakes her head.
“Mary, Luke feels awful about it, so do I. We’re sorry about the way he found out, and I’m not surprised by how he reacted. We were hoping he’d be here so we could talk it out,” Erin explains, still sounding nervous.
“There’s something else you need to know, Mom.” I grip Erin’s hand a little tighter.
“Let me guess, that test you tried telling me wasn’t yours, actually was?” Mom smiles cleverly, and we both laugh a nervous laugh.
“I’m sorry, Mary, I just wanted to come to terms with it myself.” I know Erin’s lying to cover for Liza, but I figure a little white lie never hurt anyone.
“Matthew’s?” Mom checks, and when Erin nods, she bursts into tears; happy tears that make me wanna put my fist through the wall.
“This is the best outcome; the two of you together raising this baby. Your father may not think it now, but he’ll come around.” She gets up and squashes herself between us, wrapping an arm around each of our shoulders. “Matthew would want this, too.” She smiles, and when the door opens and Dad steps inside, I hate knowing that the bruise coming out on his cheek came from me.
“I see they shared the good news,” he mumbles, heading to the kitchen and reaching for the whiskey bottle.
“Yes, they did, and I couldn’t be happier.” Mom stands up and shows her allegiance.
“Dad, can we step outside and talk?” I ask, getting up on my feet.
“I think that's a good idea.” He takes a long swig from the bottle before heading back out the door, making the storm door rattle as it slams behind him.
“Do you love her?” he asks, looking stern as he sits on the rocking chair Matthew made him as a school project.
