CHAPTER EIGHT
“Hey.”
Maggie glanced over her shoulder, tensing as Luke walked into the kitchen. “Hey.”
“Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you about the dessert menu.”
Maggie couldn’t look at him. They’d barely spoken since he kissed her two days ago and despite telling herself his rejection didn’t matter, anger continued to swirl in her gut. Like ten years ago, he kissed her and then tossed her aside.
What made her even angrier was that she kept falling for it.
“What’s wrong with the dessert menu?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it. But it’s limited. Why only three items? And why did you choose the ones you did?”
“Because we’re trying to use locally grown products, remember? I chose the rhubarb crumble, the blueberry cobbler and the strawberry trifle because they’re locally grown fruits that I can freeze and use all winter. In the summer, I can create a new menu using fresh fruit.”
He leaned one hip against the counter next to the sink and folded his arms across his chest. “Okay, I get that, but why only three? There are dozens of other things you can make with those fruits. Why limit yourself? And surely we can offer at least one dessert with ingredients that come from more than a hundred miles away. Our guests will expect it.” Maggie’s hands shook as she peeled potatoes. “I’m trying to stay true to Harper’s vision.”
“I know you are, and you’re doing a good job, but I feel like you’re holding back.” He touched her arm and though his voice was barely above a whisper, she heard the pleading note in it. “I know you have a lot more creativity in you. Come on, Maggie Cat. Don’t settle. I know you can do better.”
Her whole body vibrated with anger. She pushed his hand away. “Don’t ever call me that again. You lost the right a long time ago.”
“Maggie—”
“Don’t Maggie me. Don’t think you can kiss me and I’ll do exactly what you want. Don’t assume you can manipulate me like you did when I was a kid. I’ve grown up, but you haven’t changed a bit in ten years. You’re the same self-centered user you were back then.”
His eyes turned a stormy, Arctic gray. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” She whirled to face him, the potato peeler clutched in her right hand. “Why are you even here, Luke? Why have you bothered to come back?”
“You know why. For my mother.”
“If you were such a good son, why did you wait until your mother was dying before you came home to see her?” Even as the words spewed from her mouth she knew she’d gone too far.
Luke flinched as if she’d hit him.
“Luke, I’m—”
He held up his hands. “You’re right. A good son wouldn’t have let old fears keep him from doing right by his family. I should have been here when my mother and my grandmother needed me. But I wasn’t and that’s inexcusable.”
He turned and left the kitchen. Maggie swore and banged her fist on her stainless-steel counter, flinching as pain shot up her arm. She’d let her insecurities get the better of her. What she’d said to Luke…
She squeezed her eyes shut and let the shame wash over her.
She had to apologize. Maggie ripped off her apron and hurried out the door.
She found him in the dining room, standing near one of the French doors, staring out at the frozen lake. His despondency reached out to her from across the room, and she knew she was responsible.
He turned to her as she approached, his expression unreadable. “Coming back for round two?”
“I don’t want to fight with you anymore. Those things I said—”
“You don’t have to apologize for pointing out the truth.”
He turned toward the lake once more, his jaw clenched. His pain hit Maggie like a physical blow. She reached for his hand and squeezed it between hers, needing to soothe, to make up for the terrible things she’d said in anger and fear. “Luke, I—”
“Don’t, Maggie, please. Don’t apologize. I should have been here for them. I’ve let them down. I’ve always let them down.”
“That’s not true! You know that’s not true.”
He simply shook his head and closed his eyes. Maggie looked at their joined hands, her much smaller one dwarfed by his. The summer they were together, she’d loved holding hands with him. Though his fingers had been callused from work, he had always touched her with tenderness.
His cell phone rang, jarring her out of her memories.
Luke reached for his phone. “It’s the cancer specialist from California. I have to take this.”
“Of course.”
Maggie backed away, intending to give him privacy to take his call, but he held firmly to her hand. In a flash of understanding, she recognized he was afraid of what the doctor was about to tell him.
“Dr. Healey, hello. Do you have some news?”
Luke bent his head, listening intently, his gaze averted. Then, his body stiffened and he threw back his head in an anguished gesture, his eyes shut tightly. A sick feeling formed in Maggie’s stomach. The news wasn’t good.
“Isn’t there anything you can do?” he asked.
His fingers tightened their hold on hers and she knew the answer was no.
Luke let out a breath. “I appreciate your time, Dr. Healey. Yes, I’m sorry, too.”
He hit the off button and stuck his phone back in his pocket. “My mother’s cancer isn’t one that responds well to his new treatment. He says that even if it would respond, the cancer is too advanced.”
“I’m sorry, Luke.”
“Mom humored me. She knew I wouldn’t accept her diagnosis until I had no choice.”
Even though she’d seen for herself how sick Abby was, Maggie had been holding out hope for the new treatment almost as much as Luke. But now that last, faint hope was extinguished.
He dropped her hand, his gaze aimed at a point over her left shoulder. “I have to go. I have to talk to Mom.”
“Yeah.”
He lifted his gaze to hers and she read the pain in his eyes. “I haven’t been here for her the last ten years, but I’m here now. I’ll be here till…until she doesn’t need me anymore.”
Maggie nodded, unable to speak. Luke hurried out of the dining room, and she heard the front door open and close.
She bowed her head and wept.
Luke hadn’t taken off his jacket before his mother spoke.
“You heard from the cancer specialist in California, didn’t you?”
He imagined his face told the whole story. He couldn’t think. Sorrow and grief filled his heart and his thoughts. A leaden weight had settled on his chest, robbing him of breath and making it nearly impossible to speak. “Yeah.”
“I’m guessing he said there was nothing he could do, that the cancer was too advanced.”
Luke nodded, no longer able to form words.
Abby held out her arms. Luke went to her chair and dropped to the floor beside her, laying his head in her lap. Tears came hard and fast, the grief raw and unbearable. She smoothed her hand over his hair and whispered soothing words.
Later, exhausted and spent, he lifted his head. Abby brushed his hair from his face. “It’s going to be all right, Luke. It really is.”
He shook his head. How could anything be all right if she was gone?
She put her hand on his shoulder. “I can only imagine how you feel. I know I’d be devastated if my mother was dying. But I’ve made my peace with death, and I know it’s my time to go. My only concern is for the people I’m leaving behind. I need you to promise me you’ll live the rest of your life with love and forgiveness. Don’t waste a minute on regret or guilt or anger. Be happy, Luke.”
He nodded, though he wasn’t certain he could keep his promise.