Page 25 of When I'm Gone
Luke knew Brian got better at darts when he was drunk, and the other two would soon be throwing like twelve-year-olds. He considered for a moment how easy it would be for him to dominate them all at darts and make a little money. Then he checked on Annie’s unchanged reflection.
“No, thanks. You guys have fun.” He waved at Tanner and Jose, who were divvying up the darts by color. “You can give me your money another time.”
“You wish,” Brian said as he walked away.
“You okay?” Luke whispered once Brian was hefting his first dart toward a plastic board. Did Annie and Natalie ever talk about their husbands together? They must have—isn’t that what girlfriends do? Now Luke and Annie were friends—it was official—but Luke definitely wasn’t ready to dispense relationship advice.
“I’m fine.” She took a deep shaky breath before putting on a bright smile. It looked real enough to him. Then Luke had a startling thought: What if he’d never seen Annie’s real smile? She turned her barstool around and watched the game of darts from a distance as though she was actually interested. “You can leave if you want; I wouldn’t blame you.”
Luke hesitated. Before Mick and all his slick moves, he was planning to find an excuse to jump in his car and make it home beforeThe Late Late Showcame on. The only reason he’d come tonight was to pump Annie for information. She didn’t have any more to tell him.
As Luke turned his stool around to match hers, he crossed one foot over his knee and leaned against the bar behind him. Annie wasn’t some object he could take out and use every once in a while when it suited him and then put in a closet when he was done.
He wasn’t going to use her like Mick wanted to, or ditch her like Brian had.
“Nope. I’m staying,” Luke said before taking a long drink of his nearly warm beer. “But since it doesn’t look like we are going to get Brian out of here in time for our reservations at Bistro 16, I think we should order some food. Do they even have food at this dive ... I mean, this incredibly classy facility?”
“Oh, for sure.” Annie laughed. “Their specialty is a delicacy from France. I think it’s called french fries.” She put on a horrible fake French accent. Luke chuckled.
“Sounds very exotic.”
“You’ll never look at French cuisine the same again. I promise.” Annie waved at the young woman dressed in black who had replaced Mick behind the counter. As the girl headed over, Luke watched Annie stare at her hands.
“Um,” she said, pausing like she was gathering her thoughts. “Thank you for coming to my rescue. I’m really glad you came out with us tonight.” Annie had flawless skin; high, well-defined cheekbones; and a body that was well sculpted by a natural athleticism and hours in the gym. Natalie used to joke that she felt like an Oompa-Loompa beside her fine-boned best friend, which Luke would laugh off with an extra long kiss and smack on the behind. Annie was definitely not his type, but right now, sitting at the bar with her mouth turned up a little at the corners, curving softly—something inside him stirred; he had a sudden urge to reach out and touch the delicate wrinkles settling around her lips.
“Hey, that’s what friends are for,” he joked, looking away. What the hell was he doing thinking about Annie? He was missing Natalie—that had to be it.
Luke found lots of interesting things to focus on in the bar—flashing lights, Brian’s winning streak at darts, the guy in the corner who kept playing “Back in Black” on the jukebox. He looked everywhere but at her. Yet no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, Luke found himself waiting for another view of her subtle smile. When he did catch her once or twice smiling at a joke or story, he’d wonder if this time it was real.
APRIL
CHAPTER 9
“Why do you think she had that envelope? Why keep it?” Will followed behind Luke asking questions. Every morning they went through this routine—Will making lists of evidence trying to prove he wasn’t crazy; Luke tamping down his son’s concerns while his own grew like an unkempt garden choked with weeds. “She always talked about how she had to take medicine to help her get pregnant. Did you everseeher belly? Why aren’t there any pictures?” The questions went on and on.
“I don’t know why she kept it.Yes,I saw her pregnant, and we didn’t take a lot of pictures because I was gone and selfies hadn’t been invented.” Luke reeled off the list of answers like he did every morning. They weren’t always the same questions, but the eerily hopeful tone never changed. It was the way Will asked more than what he asked that disturbed Luke the most.
Even without Will’s obsession, Luke didn’t go more than an hour without thinking about the envelope from Natalie’s memory box and the name written on it. It still bothered him ... a lot ... but not because he was in any doubt that Will was his son. No matter which way Will spun the story or how many wild assumptions he made, nothing could make Luke question his son’s paternity. Why all the secrets? That was the question that kept racing through Luke’s mind during these morning interviews—why all the secrets?
He’d planned to throw away the Maranatha envelope, ready to never think about it again. But then a new letter came, this one all about Dr. Neal giving Natalie a box of his wife’s old scarves. That’s all it took. The envelope had been staring at him from the top of his dresser ever since.
“I did a little research, if it makes you feel better. The Maranatha Adoption Agency, it’s in Chicago, and the folks there won’t answer any questions over the phone about something that happened years ago. But that agency has some kind of office in Kalamazoo. It’s called Maranatha House.”
Will’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? Isn’t that close to where Mom grew up?” He jammed his hands into the front pockets of the sweatshirt, burrowing them in deep. “Dad, what does that mean?”
“Probably nothing,” Luke said as he plopped the pile of mail into the back pocket of his workbag. He put up his hand to stop Will before he could argue with him further. “ButI’m taking the day off work on Thursday to check it out in person. Is that thorough enough for you?”
“I’m coming with you.” Will hung his blue backpack over his shoulder. It was covered in all kinds of doodles done in permanent marker. Luke thought they were graffiti, but Natalie always called them art.
“No, you’re not. They probably won’t talk to me anyway. Do you know how hard it is to adopt a baby, Will?” Luke’s voice went up, and he fought back irritation. He took a deep breath and continued toward the front door. Will followed.
“Okay. Okay. Fine. You go alone.”
Passing through the hall of family pictures, Luke stared straight ahead, still unable to look at the picture of “wedding day Natalie.” Usually it was to avoid the pain inflicted by the happy memories, but lately it was to evade all the doubts clogging his brain.
When they emerged from the hall, Will was behind him, touching his shoulder. “Thank you for doing all this.” His arms wrapped around Luke’s shoulders in a brief hug, and Luke patted his back, wishing he didn’t have to let go.
“I’d do anything for you, Will.” Luke leaned back to look him in the eye. “You’re my son.”
