Page 49 of When I'm Gone
“We’re coming, bud. No one is going to miss his or her plane today. Right, Grandma?” Luke gave Terry a pointed look, eyebrows raised.
“No, no, dear, we have plenty of time. Go get your brother and sister, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Okay!” Clayton dragged the dark-blue carry-on behind him, even though it probably weighed as much as he did.
“Good-bye, Luke,” Terry said coldly, not making any effort to look at Luke as she walked past him. The wheels of her suitcase rolled over his toes. Every part of him wanted to tell Terry where she could shove it, throw the kids in the car, and never see that woman again. He could do it, and he would do it, if it weren’t for the kids and Natalie.
So, he went through the motions and said his farewells to the children. Clayton and Will were unfazed, while May cried like she was going off to war. Once he got May settled, Luke managed a polite wave to Terry and then stood back so they could go through security together.
Unfortunately, the line was short, so much sooner than he wished, they’d all passed through the metal detector and were gathering their belongings on the other side of the X-ray machine. He tried not to watch as they disappeared down the hall leading to their gate. He briefly contemplated purchasing a ticket and rushing through security for one more hug, and then his phone buzzed. A text.
He slipped the phone out of his pocket. He’d finally put it in a black case and tempered-glass screen protector after dropping it three times in the first week. When he glanced at the screen, he couldn’t help but smile. A text from Annie.
Hope airport goodbyes went okay.
Luke used the tip of his index finger to answer, still finding texting awkward and slow.
Luke:Goodbyes okay. A few tears.
Annie:You or May? Haha.
Luke:Both.
Annie:Aw. Terry is gone! Focus on that. Don’t forget—I come home tomorrow which means: ROAD TRIP!
Luke had been trying to figure out the best way to tell Annie he’d changed his mind, that facing Andy and finding out the truth was not his idea of a fun way to spend his holiday weekend. Felicity had asked him to go to the fireworks on the fourth. They’d been exchanging e-mails since their last date, but Luke hadn’t had the gumption to take her out again while Terry was there.
But this could be his best chance to finally discover the truth. And if Terry was going to stand over him all preachy and morally superior while lying to him about his wife’s past, Luke needed to know. How could he find a future with someone if he couldn’t stop obsessing about what happened in the past? Fine. He needed to know what really happened between Natalie and Andy Garner, and he needed to know now.
Luke:I’m in.
JULY
CHAPTER 19
“Hey, you want a Twizzler?” Annie had her elbow deep in a paper grocery bag filled with snacks. They were twenty minutes away from Pentwater, and in the past three hours, Luke had eaten half a bag of pretzels, a whole can of Pringles, two sticks of jerky, and a sixteen-ounce bottle of Coke. He kept thinking he couldn’t eat any more, and then Annie would pull another treat out of her magic bag and somehow make it sound amazing.
“Do you have the whole candy section of the grocery store in there or something?” Luke tried to peek inside the bag but was distracted by the two twisted strands of licorice in Annie’s hand.
“Here, open your mouth.” She waved the ropelike treat in front of his face, and Luke dropped his jaw. Annie flung the candy into his mouth, and he bit off the tip, taking his hand off the wheel long enough to grab the rope before it fell into his lap.
The sugary-sweet treat tasted like strawberries and flashed him back to Sunday afternoons in Natalie’s backyard fort, chomping on a pack of Twizzlers they’d snuck from Terry’s “hands-off, kids” cupboard.
“Natalie and I used to bite off both ends and stick them in a can of pop as a straw. It usually made the pop taste disgusting, but we didn’t care.”
“Mmmm ... gross.” Annie snorted. “I love that you guys met when you were kids. Will you show me around the town a little if we have time?”
Luke didn’t have a lot of love for Pentwater. He’d lived there with his parents for fourteen years. He could close his eyes and recall all the best bike paths and the days of the week you could pass through Mrs. Sterling’s yard without getting a call to your mom. But when he let those memories in, the others came too, like the fear that heavy footsteps and clinking bottles could bring to a little boy or how small his baby sister looked lying dead, blood-soaked, in his mother’s arms. Luke shook his head as if by doing so, he could rid himself of these haunting memories.
“You’re lucky we’re going to be there during the summer, when all the tourists are in town and the fishing boats are running. We should be getting there early enough to see the fishermen bring in the catch of the day.” When Luke’s dad was sober, he was one of those men heading out before sunrise, returning smelling of fish guts, beer, and sweat.
When he was younger, Luke would go down to the harbor and watch his dad gut and fillet the fish he brought in. His hands were so nimble, and Luke was sure his fingers would never be able to work so efficiently. Turns out it wasn’t a skill he needed to learn. He still avoided the seafood section at the grocery store, the smell bringing back memories he liked to pretend he didn’t have.
“First things first though. We are meeting Andy at 813 Winter Lane in about fifteen minutes. Think we’ll make it?” Annie asked.
They’d exited the highway a few miles back, and the sun was playing with the thick greenery that acted as a canopy over the two-lane highway. A green sign with an arrow saidPENTWATER 5 MI. Luke’s hands tensed on the wheel. They were almost there; this was really happening. He still hadn’t worked through what he was going to say. One of his biggest worries was that Andy wouldn’t remember him at all and he’d have to go through some explanation instead of skipping right into the questions and accusations.
“Oh yeah, we’re very close. Look, there is the old MacTarlton house.” He pointed to a blur of old cars and garbage stacked into nondescript piles of brown. “They were hoarders before being a hoarder was something that could get you on TV.”
