SAM
I can’t hold back a cheeky smile when Luke and I leave the restaurant. I should probably feel ashamed at making him pay my 18 dollars, but I don’t. What I feel is, well, naughty. And there’s something liberating about that.
It feels like the Dad in me is on vacation, and this new Sam is being allowed to run rampant for a while.
I laugh for a beat, and Luke gives me a funny smirk back. He pulls out his keys and motions to his truck, parked at the curb. “That’s me.”
“My Honda is parked two-streets down. Shall I meet you . . . wherever we’re going next?”
“Next?” Luke looks at me quizzically, his gaze dipping to the hands I’m stuffing into my pockets.
“Yeah. I thought we’d be hanging the rest of the day. Or something. Unless you’re busy?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. That sounds good. Leave your car here and jump in with me.”
I do as he says and in 15 minutes we are driving around the coast. Luke is such a confident driver and is always in control; I like that I can sit next to him and feel safe enough to doze off, despite the perilous blind corners that make up half of the drive.
I look from his hands on the steering wheel to the steep climbing hills peppered with houses out his window. Then I look out my window to the sea, edging the road in turquoise. “Jeremy will want to do his learner’s license soon.”
“He’s old enough for that already?” Luke gives me a small shake of the head and focuses back on the road, his thumbs rubbing the wheel. “He’s growing up so fast.” I detect a sigh in his words and I understand exactly.
“He is. I can’t believe he’s the age I was when I became a dad. It’s . . . eerie.”
A few beats go by and, resting my head against the window, I let out my own sigh. There’s a sudden need to get this thing off my chest. To explain why I need to cut loose these next few weeks.
“The thing is,” I say, “being a Dad has never come as first nature to me. I’ve been faking my way through the first fifteen years of Jeremy’s life. Half the time I have no clue what I’m doing.”
I laugh at myself, but it sounds as hollow as it feels. “And the other half . . .” I drift off. What I want to say sounds . . . sappy, no matter how true it is.
Luke changes gear. “The other half . . .?”
I straighten and look over at him. I offset my words with a shrug, as if it will rub some of the sappiness out. “The other half I have you to help me.”
A soft whoosh of breath leaves him, then Luke checks the rearview mirror. Suddenly, he’s pulling the truck off to the side, into a wide bay used for turning on the narrow roads. He puts the handbrake on, and then faces me. “We all fake it. I’m sure it’s the same for Carole.” His voice catches as he adds more quietly, “I feel clueless most of the time too.”
I nod, but his and Carole’s “faking it” always seems so much better than mine. “One day I’m afraid Jeremy will look at me and see me for what I am. A fraud.”
Luke goes to say something, but I raise a hand and stop him. “I’m just so nervous. I don’t know what to expect. My experiences at fifteen and his are going to be so different. I’m afraid I won’t know how to relate to him and will mess it all up.”
“And . . .” I feel the prickle of tears at the back of my eyes. I blink them down. “The honest truth, Luke? I’m a bad Dad.”
“Fudging your way doesn’t make you a bad Dad,” he says, and the way he leans forward, it looks like he wants to comfort me. I want to let him too, but I’m afraid it’ll make things more awkward. And added to that, I don’t think I deserve it.
I say it quietly. “It’s not just the faking. Shit, I hate that I feel this way, but sometimes I can’t help it. I’m jealous of him, Luke.”
Luke shifts back in his seat and blinks.
I rub my forehead with the back of my thumb. Then I shrug. “I never got these years he’s going to have now. I should have made some great friends, done a few minor stupid things that I could have laughed about now, you know, thrown a party when my parents weren’t around or whatever.”
I shake my head. I was only 14. “All I got out of my teen years was a first time with Carole. We weren’t even dating! I never got to do that. It was only the one night. It wasn’t even everything I thought it was going to be. That’s it. That’s the last teen thing I got to do. Then Jeremy was there, and—bam—I’m a dad.”
I laugh again, but it’s the nervous kind. “I just wish . . . wish I’d done things differently. I see him now and I want to know what it’s like to not have to care about stuff so much. Sometimes I just don’t want to have to be responsible.”
I look away from Luke’s gentle, non-judging gaze and back out to the sea. “There’s a reason for this list I have. A reason I snuck off back at the restaurant to let you pay. . . .”
Sneaking a peek at Luke, I’m surprised his lips are twitching into a smile. When he catches me looking, he says, “Is that the worst you can do? Come on, Sam, consider this holiday your time to cut loose. Get really wild.” His tone sours a fraction. “Asking Hannah out is something, but it’s a little . . . vanilla, isn’t it? There are other things out there to try and do.”
His voice fades into something more serious. “I get it, though,” he says. “And I don’t think you’re a bad dad. And, you know, for your peace of mind, I’m happy to take care of the responsibility stuff for a little while. You know, maybe I could pick Jeremy up like I used to?”
I nod, and the relief at having Luke behind me has me sinking into the seat. “He usually takes the bus now. Except for Tuesdays after practice. But I’m in town anyway, so you don’t have to.”
“When it comes to doing things for Jeremy,” Luke says, restarting the car, “it’s not a matter of having to do something, okay? I want to.”
I laugh for real this time. “Well I hope you’ll still want to when you start teaching him to drive! Because I’m sure as hell going to have a coronary if I do it.”