WORDS HAD surprisingly hurt him. They shouldn’t have. He didn’t know her beyond a couple of hours spent together. But somehow meeting her defensiveness when he’d tried to be helpful, tried to nurture a stable relationship with the only rational nearby adult, made him feel less than what he was.
He was honorable, damn it. And no one had ever called him nosy.
Aunt Flora bumbled out the back door and gathered the children, directing Michael and Chris to unload pots out of Addy’s car and giving Charlotte a spoon for worm digging. The three-year-old made a strange face, but allowed the older woman to lead her to the compost pile in the corner of the yard.
For a moment, Lucas fought feeling inferior. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He was a man who rarely cared what others thought of him, a man who rarely cared if he pleased others.
But he knew one thing—Addy’s past had made her fearful.
The phone attached to his belt rang, and Lucas glanced at the screen. He was waiting on his manager at the Manhattan gallery to call about some pieces for a renovation. But it wasn’t Gerald. It was Courtney.
Dread knotted in his stomach.
Was she calling merely to check on the kids or had his brother worsened?
“Hey,” he said, as Addy reemerged from the house still wearing the dark dress and casting an apologetic glance at him. Something moved within him at that look in her eyes. Something weak. He turned away.
“Hey,” Courtney said, her voice weary...almost defeated. “Thought I better call and check on the kids while I had a chance. They’re changing Ben’s bedding and I’m in the waiting room.”
“The kids are fine.”
“Are they? I’ve been worried. I left without saying goodbye.”
“Wasn’t ideal.” He’d arrived early Monday morning. Courtney had taken a cab to the airport minutes later, leaving him with sleeping kids and a page of instructions that didn’t cover jack.
“No, it wasn’t but it was the best way.”
“Not sure about that, but you can smooth things over a bit if you tell the kids about Ben’s condition. It would be easier—”
“On you?” Her voice also held anger. “All I asked was for you to be their caretaker. That’s it. I’m truly grateful, but I can’t tell them their father may be dying over the phone, Luke.”
He hadn’t been called Luke in many years and the sound of his name on her lips confused him. On one hand it swept him back to a time when he’d loved hearing her say his name, and on the other hand, it caused the anger of betrayal to eat away at any pleasure left in hearing her voice. “And I complied, Courtney, but I’m a stranger. Not knowing what’s going on makes it harder on them. Not me. Them.”
Michael came around the corner of the house followed by Flora. He caught sight of Lucas on his phone and some kind of internal homing signal went off and the boy started walking toward where Lucas had slipped into the shadows.
“Hey, is that my mom?” Michael asked.
Courtney dropped a curse word. “Tell him no. Please, I’m not ready to talk to him about Ben.”
Lucas pulled the phone from his ear and turned to head off Michael. “This is my call and you’re being rude interrupting it.”
Michael’s chest expanded in outrage. “If that’s my mother, I have a right to talk to her. It’s her, isn’t it? Let me have the phone.”
Lucas shook his head and pointed toward where Chris held a stack of planters. Addy appeared, her forehead crinkled in concern. Chris watched his brother, mouth slightly open, anticipation of the confrontation in his eyes. Charlotte happily dug in the compost heap looking for worms, which she promptly dumped into a can sitting beside her. The girl didn’t seem to know there was anything else in the world except fat, squiggly earthworms that probably both fascinated and repelled her.
“Go help Addy’s aunt with the wheelbarrow.” When Michael didn’t budge, Lucas added, “Now.”
“This is bullshit. If that’s my mom, I want to talk to her. She won’t text me or call me. Her. Not you.”
Courtney said with a sigh, “Give him the phone.”
Lucas didn’t want to concede to Michael. He’d read in one of the parenting magazines consistency was the solution to many behavior problems in children of all ages. He wanted to stand firm on telling Michael no, but he wasn’t the kid’s parent. Courtney was, and maybe she’d finally tell the boy about his father’s condition.
“Mom, what’s going on? Why did you leave us with him?” Michael said into the receiver. He plodded toward the low screen of bushes lining Addy’s home.
Lucas watched as Michael nodded, made a defiant face then shook his head. Several heated words were exchanged before the boy’s shoulders sank in defeat.
Lucas knew Courtney hadn’t told him about Ben’s injury and complications from the surgery. If anything, Michael swelled even more with resentment as he handed Lucas the phone and stalked away.
“Courtney?”
“What?” She was crying.
“Why won’t you at least tell Michael about Ben? He’s old enough to understand.”
“Shut up, Luke. You don’t understand how vulnerable Michael is. He and his dad are close. If I tell him Ben might die, it will be real. So shut up, feed them, make sure they brush their teeth, but don’t tell them anything about their father. You hear me?”
“Avoiding reality doesn’t help Michael.”
“Ben is going to get better. I have faith. This can’t happen to me again, and I’m not going to put them through what I went through with Mom and Dad. You understand? Just tell them I’m with their father and everything is okay.”
“I know what you went through, Courtney. I was there. Remember?”
“Of course I remember. It was excruciating seeing my mother the way she was, seeing my daddy die. Those memories are in my head, Luke. I can’t get them out, and I don’t want my children to have that same hopelessness.”
“But what if you hadn’t been there? What if you’d been kept in the dark? It’s not pleasant to be lied to.”
He hadn’t intended to throw the extra meaning in, but it was there nevertheless. It would always be between them. Lucas had been in the dark, Courtney and Ben had kept their affair in the shadows, skulking around, betraying him.
No, it did not feel good being lied to.
Courtney’s crying grew louder. “Ben’s going to get better. I know it, Luke. He’s got to. Just give me a little more time, that’s all. Time will fix it. The doctors said the antibiotic might be working. His blood work looks better.”
“Is he still on the ventilator?”
A choked sob was his only answer.
