Chapter 8
Luke holds on for as long as he can. But he can feel himself being pulled from the peaceful sleep, as if he’s being softly yanked from it. His body feels at an angle, his toes touching fluff. He snuggles deeper into the pillow Winston gave him and refuses to be pulled away.
He’s been content, body relaxed. Even with Noah’s light snoring pouring down the hall; and the occasional sound of Winston’s footsteps tip toeing down the stairs to check on his son; the creak the door makes as Winston pushes it open to stare inside.
Luke sleeps all through the night. It’s the best he’s slept in a long time.
He can feel the urge to wake; the pressure on his elbow. Yet he stubbornly ignores it. He’s not ready. His hands grab at the blanket over him and his feet kick out hard; stretching.
“Owe! What the-”
“Sorry!” Luke forcefully snatches himself from sleep, his legs still kicking out as he does so. He knows that voice. He hasn’t been around it long enough to, but for some reason it’s seared into his brain now. He could pick it out anywhere.
“If you’re sorry, then stop kicking me.”
Luke scoots his feet up, his back hitting the armrest. He stares wide-eyed at the figure seated beside him; hands gripping a coffee mug. “I didn’t mean to-”
“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen… help yourself.”
Luke doesn’t move. Noah looks about ready to explode again, so Luke just stares.
“Is there something you want to say, or are we playing a game?”
Luke instantly looks away. He doesn’t want to annoy Noah or make him feel weird - especially not in his own home. Luke’s seen Noah at his worst. The whole situation at best should be embarrassing for both of them. He blows out a gust of air as he looks into the distance at nothing in particular. The sipping of coffee nearby makes it hard for him not to turn and stare again.
Luke can feel Noah’s gaze on him. Just like the night before, it’s a heated gaze- not one of lust, or any type of desire, but one of, if Luke’s not mistaken, curiosity.
“Why are you here?” It’s not spoken with anger or accusation. In fact the words are softly pronounced. “What do you want?” The voice is gentle and Luke continues to fight the urge to turn and stare.
They sit in silence, Luke’s fingers twisting in the blanket.
“If you’re not going to speak, I guess I should leave you alone. After all, you are my father’s guest- not mine.”
Noah moves to get up and without thinking Luke lunges forward. “Wait!”
Luke’s hands are on Noah’s shoulders, his fingers digging in. His eyes widen in shock at the look on Noah’s face and, as quickly as he moved to stop Noah from leaving, he’s up and almost ten feet away. It’s the scared and sick look that crosses Noah’s features that drives Luke back. “I didn’t mean…I.”
“Don’t,” Noah says as he gets up. “Forget about it.”
Luke fiercely nods his head; his body turned away from Noah.
“What is it that you want?” Noah asks again.
Luke doesn’t even look his way; he just quickly walks toward a chair holding his clothes and jacket.
“Um… your father….” Luke starts. “He… ah… wrote me a letter.” Luke loudly clears his throat, his hand searching frantically through his jacket pockets. He briefly glances in Noah’s direction, trying to gauge his reaction.
Noah says nothing though- just watches intensely through blue eyes that stay focused on the movement of Luke’s hands as he continues to search.
It feels like forever has passed, by the time Luke slowly pulls out the worn white envelope. Unconsciously, he brings the letter to the center of his chest. He takes a deep breath, his hand shooting out in Noah’s direction; letter tightly clutched.
“Here.” He breathes deeply as he waits for Noah to take it.
“What’s…?”
“Your father, he ah-”
“He didn’t!” Noah shakes his head in shocked disappointment.
“Um, yeah...” Luke is hurt by the way Noah reacts. Still he watches while Noah opens the letter, eyes scanning the words; barely blinking as he takes them in.
“Dear Luke,” he mumbles as he reads.
“Please don’t,” Luke begs, hoping Noah listens and doesn’t read it out loud. Noah looks up sharply, his brow furrowing. He nods in understanding; and without pause he continues to read in silence.
Dear Luke
I’ve been sitting in the waiting room damn near the whole day waiting for you to come out of surgery. For the last two hours I’ve listened to stories of what a good guy you are. Your family says you are special, that you deserve a second chance. Frankly I want to say the same about my son in law? Doesn’t he deserve a second chance? Why are you so special? But that would be wrong, because you do deserve a second chance.
I don’t know the full story of what happen to you and I am the last person to judge, and hey sometimes kidneys just fail. But again, you get a second chance while my son in law does not. Please use it!
When I go home today, I go home to a house with one less person in it and a son that may never recover.
In a week or so, I bury a man that became a son to me. Reid was my son and I will miss him dearly. So I want you to think about that, before you sit around mopping and being depressed.
I’ve given your father, Holden, my address and my phone number- when the time is right for you, please come and see me. I really would like to know how you are doing. Plus my son, Noah, wanted what Reid gave you to matter, so please make it count.
Colonel Winston Mayer
P.S. if you are wondering why you needed to know this, it’s because what I say is an order.
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Noah looks up with a bight brilliant smile on his face, one Luke remembers clearly from the first day he saw him at the hospital. “My father guilt tripped you.”
Luke smiles back in return. “Yes... yes he did.”
“That’s my dad.”
“You know,” Luke starts. “Reading that letter... I didn’t even put two and two together… I mean… I didn’t realize he knew so much about me. But somehow I still understood that I had to listen to him.”
“Is that why you wouldn’t leave when I told you to?”
“I… ah…” Luke looks around, unsure how to answer. He swallows thickly. “Mostly…” He shrugs.
Noah looks back down at the letter.
“But really it was because of you.” The words are out before Luke can stop himself.
Noah has a strange look on his face. He doesn’t say anything, just gently puts the letter back into the envelope and gingerly hands it back to Luke.
The air is thick with tension and Luke thinks he may have blown it by being so truthful. “I…”
“Have you ever been in love, Luke?”
The question startles him. But what really shocks him is that Noah actually uses his name. He’s so shocked he forgets to speak.
Noah clears his throat, trying to get his attention.
Luke looks up; confusion written all over his face.
“Did you not understand the question?” Noah asks.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Have you ever been in love?”
Luke watches as Noah’s lips move. He smiles weakly and slowly shakes his head. “Almost 30 and not once…”
Noah frowns at him. “I wish I could tell you that’s too bad. I wish I could tell you don’t worry it will happen one day. But I can’t… I won’t.”
Luke’s confused. He’s about to open his mouth and ask why. But Noah beats him to it.
“I’ve been in love with the same man since I was 16. He was 12 years older then me and all I saw was him.” Noah sees the shock on Luke’s face. “What? My dad didn’t tell you that?”
Luke just shakes his head.
Noah shrugs. “Maybe he didn’t think it was important. But he let me marry Reid at 17.” Noah pays no mind to the fresh look of shocked that falls over Luke’s face. “Point is… I’ll be thirty in October and I’ll be without him.” Noah shakes his head sadly. “When you’re sixteen, you don’t think about the future. You don’t consider that maybe one day, the person you love most with all your heart will be gone. You just want what you want.” He inhales deeply. “….and I wanted Reid.”
Noah starts to walk toward the hallway but stops with his back to Luke. “If someone would have sat me down and told me the cold hard facts… the ‘what ifs’… I would have run for the hills. I’d never have given Reid a second glance.” Noah laughs a sad weak laugh. “But here we are. Reid dead; me killing my father slowly and you… lost and confused.”
Luke’s mouth trembles. He can’t argue, he can barely breathe.
Noah audibly licks his lips as his feet move deeper into the hallway. His head turns, eyes landing on Luke. “I’d say you were pretty lucky to not have done that to yourself.” Noah clears his throat again. “Anyway…” He swipes a finger under his eye, trying discreetly to catch a tear. My dad’s going to barbeque today. You should stay for his sake… Oh and call home… That’s what I came in here to tell you in the first place.”
Before Luke can respond Noah is gone; the sound of his bedroom door slamming so loud it echo’s through the house like a boom of thunder.
“Thanks,” Luke whispers, staring at the spot Noah had recently occupied.
CHAPTER 9