Page 42 of Lies and Lullabies
My visitor didn’t whistle, and I tried not to hold it against him.
The door opened and my ex-boyfriend Luke stepped onto the porch. I plastered on a friendly smile and took him in. His brown hair was buzzed as short as it had been while he was in the service. And even though his days as a tight end for the high school football team were long over, he still filled out his clothes like a football player.
Luke was, to quote my brother, a fine looking hunk of man. In high school, we’d been inseparable. We’d gone to homecoming together, and eventually prom. That night, on a blanket in the middle of someone’s back meadow, we’d had sex for the first time.
Those were such innocent days. And they felt like a million years ago.
“Hi, Kiki,” he said now, as the screen door slammed shut behind him. I jumped at the sound. “Sorry,” he said, sliding into the chair opposite me. He stretched a hand across the table to cover mine. “How are you?”
“Okay,” I lied. Thirty-six hours ago I’d been looking forward to catching up with him. But now I was twisted in so many knots, it was hard to focus. “I’m sorry that I never got back to you about our bike ride.”
“S’okay,” he said with a shrug. “I coulda called before I came over today.”
Yes, you could have. “Vivi loved going with you, though,” I said quickly.
“Maybe we can all go tomorrow.” His brown eyes studied me. They were full of questions.
“That might work,” I said carefully. “Although Adam wants to go back to the city tomorrow.”
Adam didn’t want to stay over on Sunday night, claiming he had an appointment on Monday. But who had an appointment on Memorial Day? It was probably just an excuse to cut the visit short. I wasn’t going to call him on it.
“Have a beer, Luke.” I reached down for a couple of bottles, popped them open, and passed him one.
“Thank you.” He touched his bottle to mine and took a sip. Then he studied me. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about today?”
And there it is. I took a sip, playing for time. I’d been expecting this question, but that didn’t make it any easier to answer. “I can’t, Luke. I’m sorry.” I smiled as kindly as I could, knowing he wouldn’t be satisfied with my answer.
His eyebrows knitted together. “Is that man Vivi’s father?”
“Luke,” I said quickly. “Please don’t press me.”
He reached for my hand across the table, giving it a squeeze. “But why, Kira? Why won’t you just talk to me? Otherwise we’ll never get past it. IknowI fucked up the first time you told me. I was young and angry, and I acted like a shit. But that was a long time ago. And now I ask one question, and you say, ‘Don’t press me.’”
“Luke,” I whispered. “That’s the only question I won’t answer. Because I think Vivi should know who her father is before I tell anyone else.”
“That’s fair.” He let out a big sigh. “Except I don’t want to be just ‘anyone else.’ What do I have to do to convince you that I’m on your side?”
“It’s not aboutsides,” I insisted. Although, four and a half years ago when I’d told him that I was pregnant, everyone else in town seemed to be taking sides.
And Luke had not taken mine.
But that wound wasn’t fresh anymore. Years later, I found it possible to understand that he’d only said out loud what the rest of the town had been thinking. He’d spoken out of anger and shock, and wehadbeen young and stupid.
Still, it had hurt. A lot.
“Look, I’ve said I’m sorry, honey,” he said. “I’ve told you so many times. My reaction was hotheaded and wrong. But that was a long time ago. And it hurts that you won’t forgive me, even though I’m still here, asking you to.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. “I do, Luke. I forgive you.”
He accepted this with a nod. “I appreciate that, Kira. You know, I’m probably moving to the Boston area after New Year’s,” he said quietly. “I start interviewing for jobs in the fall, and I graduate in December.”
“I’m proud of you,” I managed to say. “Graduating in just three years.”
“But I had it easy,” he said, his fingers brushing the backs of my knuckles. “I had the GI Bill and a few summer classes. It isn’t a struggle for me like it is for you.”
Okay, that was a nice thing to say. I stared down at his hand, wondering when it might finally feel right to get back together with him. He wanted me, in spite of everything that had happened.
And he had apologized.
