It’s wrong on many levels, but I can’t seem to feel bad about it. Tonight I rushed Brielle to bed as quickly as I could. She was already tired from our shopping day with Della, which made getting her to bed a lot easier.
A few hours at the mall, and then going for pedicures afterward, wore her out. But she had a blast today. Her and I can always do things like we did today more often, but I wish we were geographically closer to my friend. Having Della spend some girl time with us is something my daughter and I are deprived of.
Brielle does not have any close friends from school like I hoped, like every parent hopes, she would have made by now. And Brielle really adores Della, not to mention, Della loved the change up from being surrounded by guys all the time. The few hours between us makes the distance hard to reconnect, but I’m thankful we don’t live any further.
It’s almost ten p.m. when I’m certain Brielle is asleep down the hall. Every night after tucking her in and leaving the door cracked, I can hear her talking quietly within her darkened room. She went through an imaginary friend stage a couple years ago, and when I asked if “Sephy,” a mix breed of cat and unicorn, was still hanging around these days, she proudly says no. I got the impression right then that she wanted to keep it a secret that she still has an imaginary friend.
The children these days are trying to grow up way too fast. You can’t admit to having an imaginary friend in kindergarten the same way middle schoolers are wearing and applying makeup better than adults.
After cleaning up in my kitchen, never being one who can go to sleep with dirty dishes left in the sink overnight, I brush my teeth and pull on a tank top and cotton shorts. Before getting under the covers, I close my door so my voice won’t carry as I talk to Luke.
Me: Are you still up?
I text him as soon as my head falls back onto the pillow. Staring at the screen for those three dots, I bite my lip with impatience. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he’s busy, because what single guy would be at home alone on a Saturday night?
When a minute passes that feels more like an hour, I drop my phone onto the sheets at my hip. I’m too wired to close my eyes and relax while I wait a little longer for him to call. Reaching for the novel I brought on vacation, I open the pages. Then I reread the entire page again when none of words penetrate.
Two sentences in, my phone vibrates with a call.
I slam the book closed and reach for my phone.
“Hello.”
“Hey.” Luke’s deep voice blasts like a cannon in my ear. One word has me charged and on fire. I can’t even fight what he does to me through a phone call. “Sorry ‘bout that. I was outside when you texted.”
“It’s fine. I figured you may have had plans tonight.”
“I did.”
“Oh. Well, we can talk another time…”
“My plans were with you. Think I’m going to miss that?” Luke’s smile can be heard through the dozens of miles between us. “Is the little match-maker asleep?”
“Sound asleep. Today wore her out.” I finger the edges of my violet comforter.
I wonder where he is at while he talks to me. I haven’t been around long enough to know where Luke is living these days. Did he have his own house? Did he live in an apartment? As I picture him holding his cell phone up to his ear, I can’t help but to see him sitting on that old tan couch from his childhood home.
We sat on that couch together a lot of nights in the beginning. Instead of working on baby daddy drama with the oldest Bennett brother, I was falling for the youngest.
“Paul said Della couldn’t stop talking about y’all’s plans this weekend.”
“It was so nice having her here. Just spending time together again, like the old days.”
“So all’s good between you two?”
“Yeah. We’re getting there day by day.”
Today was a good day. But residual resentment pops up here and there every time I’m alone with Della. We’re moving forward but she’s holding onto something from the past with a firm grip. This was a whole new friendship. We needed to respect each other as adults and parents. And I don’t know whether it was fortunate or unfortunate that respecting each other in those ways weren’t our problems.
“I checked on your dad today,” Luke says.
“He told me you come by often.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Grumpy bastard tells me to stop coming by, but I think he’d miss my visits if I did.”
“When did you start doing that?”
“I’d stop in whenever I was in town on leave. Made a routine out of it last year when we moved back.”
“Della told me he’s sober. He didn’t say it himself, I don’t know why,” I mumble, staring hard at the ceiling.
“Did you know I went to your house that night? After we kissed.”
“No.”
“I had to fight Brady for his keys, then I drove to Della’s. You’re car wasn’t there, so the only other place I thought to try was your dad’s house. No one was home.”
“I didn’t stay long. He was on his way out. After I told him I was pregnant, he gave me a handful of money and told me to leave.”
“Damn, Liv.” He sighs into the phone. I want to see his face desperately bad. “I saw him the first time I got back after training. He told me he pushed you to go. Thought you’d be better off without the men in your life dragging you down.”
“He was a little late to finally start caring about me,” I reply with sarcasm.
“I think he knew just how bad of a parent he was for you. It’s why he pushed you to go. So you could make something of yourself and not end up like him.”
“Ugh.” I rub a hand through my scalp. “And now he’s sober and completely different from the man I knew and I want to fix things with him as well as everyone else.”
“Nothing to fix with me, babe. You and I are good,” he says smoothly.
“Oh, yeah. Then how come it’s been two weeks and I haven’t heard from you?” I press with a light quip.
“I was giving you recovery time after your breakup with that Connor douche.”
I started laughing. “One, Connor is not a douche. Be nice. Two…I haven’t talked to him yet.”
“Huh.”
I squeezed my eyes tightly together, smacking my forehead.
“I will, Luke,” I say to fill the awkward void, although, I don’t believe I need to justify my actions with anyone.
“I believe you.”
“Tell me something new. Something I’ve missed in six years.” That’s my way of changing the subject. I don’t need Luke asking any more about Connor and hearing what a chicken shit I am. I’ve dodged every offer to dinner with Connor these past two weeks. There’s nothing real between Connor and I, but “ending things” is not so easy either.
“Liv, I live in Calusa. Nothing new ever happens here.”
“Where are you living? Della has that big ol’ house in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’m not far them actually. I bought some land awhile back, and I’ve been building on it. Slow progress but it’s finally coming together.” I can hear the pride in his voice.
“Maybe you’ll show me next time I’m in town.”
“I plan on it. When’s that going to be, by the way?”
“The wedding.”
He groans. “That’s too long away.”
“Maybe we should just quit while we’re ahead, Luke,” I say softly, hating the words coming out of my mouth, but believing them to a certain degree. “It’s always going to be this way. I live here now.”
“It’s two hours, Liv. Not like you’re in another state.”
“Okay but there are more inconveniences than just the distance. Your brother, for one.”
My stomach recoils as I mention my biggest issue with there being an us. But it has to be said.
“He’s gone half time,” Luke replies. “Brady doesn’t have to be a problem. I can handle him.”
“I’m not worried about Brady because of you and I. It’s him being around the daughter he walked out on.” Shifting under the covers, I turn on my side and rest my head in my hand.
All the lights have been turned off except for the lamp on my nightstand. I turn away from it, facing the window with the wispy white curtains pulled back, letting the moonlight in.
“If you don’t want him around Brielle, I’ll make sure it never happens.”
“I’m more concerned with him being visibly present and still not wanting anything to do with his daughter. Calusa is small, Luke. It’s only a matter of time before we run into him.”
“I’ll keep Brady away, Liv.”
“That easy, is it?” I’m becoming annoyed with how it seems I’m the only one concerned with the odds stacked against us. Maybe I’m reaching, but Luke is different to me. He’s special and it’s hard to pinpoint how and what makes him different, but it’s like magic. I can feel it, but I can’t physically see it. There’s destiny in our story. But destiny has grievances, it’s not all hearts and rainbows. And I don’t want to go down on the tragedy side of love. Romeo and Juliet is overrated. They die, people. Give me the Westley and Buttercup HEA every single time. “He’s your brother, Luke. You can’t just insert yourself in the problems him and I have.”
“Yes, I can. I’m Bri’s uncle, and if she needs protecting, even if it’s from my brother, I would do it.”
“Did you tell him we came to visit?” I scoff. “Not that it matters. I’m sure someone in Calusa called him right away.”
“He wouldn’t take my call, but I emailed him. Believe me, he’ll be getting a disappointing reunion from everyone when he returns.”
“Because you had to tell everyone I wasn’t a kidnapper?”
“Liv.”
“I saw their stares, Luke. I’m surprised they didn’t call the cops right away.”
“No one believed him, Liv,” he replies, but I can hear the weakness in it. Luke doesn’t even believe all of what he said. More than likely, a great portion of the town did believe Brady’s lies.
“They live to gossip. If those people believed I kidnapped Brady Bennett’s daughter, what do you think they will say when I shack up with his brother?”
“Oh, is this another one of your excuses?”
“What?”
“You keep coming up excuses for why I shouldn’t be pursuing you.”
“They are not excuses. It’s facts we should be aware of before diving into something with each other.”
“Well, facts don’t change. That’s why they are called facts. And when you have knowledge of those truths, you come out better and stronger for it.” Luke’s voices draws a serious tone. For the first time, I can hear the military background laced in his baritone. “See, that’s what I trust we are, Liv. Strong, and the best for each other. We have history, and we have a future. Let me know when you’ve been enlightened.”
I pull my phone away from my ear and stare at the picture of Brielle on the screen.
He hung up on me.
“Grr!” I roll to my back and slap my palms on the mattress.
I’m not the bad person here. These are legit concerns. Our situation is not normal. It’s bad enough I carry the guilt of having feelings for my best friend’s (at the time) boyfriend, while I was semi-dating his brother. And knocked up. Repeat any of that to anyone on this planet and tell me they wouldn’t jump straight on the judgmental train.
My reasons are not excuses.
I despise my daughter’s father for walking out on her. Her father is Luke’s only remaining relative, who had to basically raise him after their mother died young. Luke can’t erase his brother from his life.
None of this is normal.
I hear Luke’s speech over and over in my head. His passionate words for us. I can’t set aside how I feel, but I can admit to one understanding. This is a beautiful, evolving word filled with acceptance.
What is normal anyway?