Page 8 of When I'm Gone
“Fine, I’ll get it. But hurry, okay?” Brian sounded like he was standing on the other side of the door, but Luke still jumped when he yanked it open with a whoosh. Standing a few inches taller than Luke, he was nearly six foot two and bulky with muscles that stood out under his gray T-shirt and sweats. It was easy to imagine what he looked like in his glory days, college football star, dreams dashed by a torn ACL. Now he was a cop in a small town, breaking up domestic disputes and tracking down fake IDs.
“Hey there, how you doing, man?”
How was he doing? Hmm. He hated this question. No one really wanted to know how you were doing. They wanted you to tell them how okay you were so they didn’t have to feel weird around you. Luke would rather lie about his mental state than deal with everyone’s awkward silence and looks of pity. He always took the easy way out and told them what they wanted to hear. Brian wasn’t a close enough friend to cry in front of, so Luke went with his normal response.
“Uh. We’re okay. Thanks for asking.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Brian said the line Luke had heard so often it had almost lost its meaning. “I don’t know what Annie will do without her. Appreciate you letting her watch Clayton.” He lowered his voice. “She misses Matt, and now with Natalie gone, I’m worried about her.”
Luke shifted, sure he was the one who should be saying thank you, not Brian. “She’s doing us a favor. You know Clayton—he loves Miss Annie. Right, bud?” Clayton said something muffled by the hood encasing his face. The poor kid was freezing. When Brian didn’t seem to notice and the silence bordered on awkward, Luke changed the subject. “I hope your case is going well.” Luke stumbled, wondering how Brian didn’t seem cold wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt while standing in the front door.
“My case?” His right eye twitched and he stood a little taller, folding his arms across his chest.
“Sorry.” Luke rubbed his hands together. “At Natalie’s funeral, Annie said you were working an important case.”
“Yeah,” Brian said, nodding. “Sorry, yeah, the case.” He tapped his biceps, his smile back. “You don’t even want to know what some people will do to get drugs. It’s crazy.” Brian rubbed his arms, goose bumps finally developing on his bare skin. “So, you coming in or what?”
Luke took a breath to answer, searching behind Brian for Annie. Leaving Clayton with Brian wasn’t within his plans or comfort zone. He was a nice enough person, total guys’ guy and easy to talk to, but not exactly babysitter material.
“You know what?” Luke put a hand on Clayton’s shoulder. “I’m not really sure today is going to work ...”
Annie’s footsteps on the stairs interrupted his attempt to slink away. She ran toward him, hair still wet.
“Oh my gosh, it’s freezing down here. Brian, invite them in; don’t let them freeze on the doorstep.”
“I was trying to, babe; I’m not stupid.” He rolled his eyes at Luke emphatically like he’d get how annoying a wife could be. “Come inside before I get in trouble.”
“Brian, get out of the way.” Annie ducked under his arm and mouthed, Sorry.
“Good to see you, Luke. You should join us for darts at Willie’s one of these nights. I owe you a beer after missing ... you know.” He stepped back and Annie waved them inside. “Sorry to ditch out on you guys, but I’m going back to bed. Got another late night tonight.”
“Oh, no problem. It was nice seeing you again,” Luke said, attempting to remember the appropriate small talk involved in this particular situation.
“Yeah, don’t forget—beer.” Brian headed up the stairs.
“How could I?” Luke forced a laugh, relieved when Brian didn’t quip back but thankfully disappeared up to the second floor.
“I’m so sorry about that.” Annie waved toward the ceiling, where they could hear Brian shuffling around in a bedroom. “He’s working nights lately, so he’ll sleep all day. But we’ll be superquiet, right?” Annie smirked at Clayton like what they’d be doing was going to be nowhere close to quiet. He nodded, his eyebrows waggling.
Annie quickly unzipped Clayton’s coat and yanked off his boots like she’d done it a thousand times before. “Hey, buddy, I pulled out a bunch of Matt’s old toys. I saved the best ones for when I’ll be Granny Annie some day. Why don’t you take a look?” She hung his coat on the handle of the closet door and tucked his gloves in the pockets. Clayton smiled and ran off into the office through a pair of French doors.
“We don’t have to do this today, Annie.” Luke adjusted the bag strap on his shoulder, already exhausted from the effort of acting normal. “My manager practically begged me to stay home and take more bereavement time.”
Annie’s forehead crinkled. “No. Please, no.” She tucked a damp yellow curl behind her ear and leaned in. “Are you worried about Brian? Because he really is going to sleep the whole time.”
“No, no.” He pressed at his temples. It was refreshing to have someone to talk to. “I don’t know if I’m ready to go back yet, that’s all.”
“Why are you pushing yourself?” She put a hand on his shoulder. He was getting used to people touching him all the time. It must be one of those unspoken social agreements, like patting a pregnant woman’s belly. There seems to be a rule when someone is mourning—you can touch him without permission. “You can wait another week. No one would blame you.”
“I know.” He reached into the outer pocket of his workbag and caressed the envelopes he hardly ever left home without. He could do it—he had to do it for Natalie. “I’ll only be gone four hours, back by lunch today. Taking this first week a little slow.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Annie pulled back, sounding unconvinced. She wrapped one arm around her torso and propped her other arm up on it, nibbling at her neatly trimmed nail. “We’re going to hang out here today, but I’ve already signed Clayton up for story time at the library once a week. We’ll think of other fun things to do out of the house. Once things defrost around here, I’m thinking the park, walks, scooter?”
“Those are all things little boys enjoy.” Fine, he had to admit it; this was a much better place for Clayton to be than in day care, where he’d be just another kid, or home in bed eating junk food all day. Luke handed over the bag, the collection of toys shifting inside. “You promise you’ll tell me if this is too much for you, right? Or at least you’ll let me pay you something.”
“Nope.” Annie shook her head. “There were only two things Natalie asked me to do before she died. The first was to keep an eye on the kids.” She hesitated, one shoulder crunching up to her ear. “She may have included you on that list.”
“Oh she did, did she?” How could he be surprised? On her deathbed, she’d arranged for letters to be delivered to him with requests from beyond the grave. Of course she had a human backup plan. “Wait, Annie? You don’t know anything about these letters, do you?” Luke tugged the bundle of envelopes out of his workbag and spread them out like a hand of cards.
