by Macy Beckett
“Dried better than I thought,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “Guess the color’s not so bad.”
“Warm and neutral. Buyers tend to like that.”
“If you say so.” He shrugged one shoulder.
“Well,” June said, wiping her wet hands on her shorts and moving toward the door, “I’m heading back to Gram’s. You coming for supper?” She knew the answer, but had to ask anyway.
“No.”
She stepped around him and let her fingers graze the outside curve of his arm, and then he touched her hand once—a touch that was barely a touch at all—and said, “Guess I should thank you for the sandwich. You didn’t use enough molasses, but it was still good.” Technically, he didn’t thank her, and ordinarily, she’d make an issue of it. Not today.
“You’re welcome. See you in the morning.”
June strolled to her car, smiling the whole way. It wasn’t much progress, but she’d take it.
Chapter 15
The silken grass beneath her bare feet, cool morning dew soaking the hem of her nightgown, the absence of all sound aside from tranquil bird calls and the whisper of wind through leaves—these were the things June had never realized she’d missed until now.
Turning one flawless tomato over in her hands, she stood on tiptoe in the soft soil of Gram’s garden and peered over a row of tall cornstalks to the Gallagher land beyond the backyard. Soon Luke would make his home there, but she couldn’t picture it. In June’s mind, his home was in Grammy’s house, with her. Perhaps because she didn’t want to, June couldn’t imagine him dwelling any place where she wasn’t. They’d almost always lived together, aside from one short decade that now seemed like a mere hiccup in their lives, and she wondered if it could be that way again. But she had a life in Austin. Assuming Luke got over his sudden aversion to her, would he be willing to abandon his land and join her in the city?
Esteban had called, faithfully as always, that morning, and they’d discussed June’s idea of negotiating a lower cab fare for Luquos patrons who might overindulge and need a ride home or to the nearest hotel. Maybe she’d haggle over a lower room rate too. But as June had paced the creaky wood floorboards with the phone pressed to one ear, her thoughts had drifted two counties away to a man in threadbare jeans and a white cotton T-shirt. She’d never had to force herself to focus on Luquos before—it had always been her pleasure to brainstorm, design, and plan everything from the wall décor to the soft background music—but June had to admit her heart wasn’t really in it. She told herself she’d simply been away too long. Once she stepped through the front door of her very own bar, once she saw her jellies floating delicately in their tanks, she’d feel that swell of excitement in her breast again. But then June quit lying to herself and admitted how much she’d miss home. She’d miss Grammy and Judge Bea and especially Luke. Could she really have it all? There had to be a way.
After June hosed off her feet and padded into the kitchen for breakfast, Gram placed a steaming platter of scrambled eggs on the table. Nodding at two cardboard boxes near the back door, Gram said, “I’m donatin’ those old Christmas decorations to the church rummage sale, so if there’s somethin’ special you wanna keep, go through and take it.”
“Oh.” June rolled a tomato onto the counter. “Is Mama’s angel in there?” She couldn’t imagine Grammy parting with the porcelain tree-topper Mama’d made in high school, but better to be safe than sorry.
“No. I’m keepin’ that.”
“What about the advent calendar tree?” Grammy had crafted a felt evergreen tree with twenty-five fabric pouches sewn to the front, which June and Luke would open each morning in December. Gram had stuffed the pouches with candies or coins, and the last one always contained an extra-special treat, like homemade fudge or divinity with nuts. June had taken their simple family tradition for granted until her first December away from home, when she’d had nothing to look forward to each morning. That’s when she’d begun to appreciate the little things Grammy had done to make the season special.
“I’m keepin’ that too,” Gram said with a firm nod.
“Good. I missed that.” She’d spent so many Christmases working double shifts—both to distract herself and to take advantage of the higher wage—that she hadn’t given much thought to how Gram had spent her holidays. “Before Luke moved back home, who’d you spend Christmas with?”
“Oh, I don’t rightly know.” She turned to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice. “I ate supper with Bea once, the year his wife passed, but after that, he started spendin’ holidays with his kids in Oklahoma.”
“What about the other years?”
Gram shrugged one bony shoulder. “Most folks my age got kin to cook for. Didn’t feel right addin’ to their burden by invitin’ myself over.”
“Oh.” She was alone, just like me. First the surgery, and now this. June wished she could redo the last decade of her life. There was so much she’d change.
Their thoughts must have traveled on the same wavelength, because instead of pulling out her Sudoku book, Gram sat down and folded her hands in her lap. “Let’s talk a minute,” she said.
“Sure.” June brought two plates and forks to the table. “What’s on your mind?” Though she had a good idea.
“You’ll be goin’ back soon.” Gram seemed to hesitate, something she didn’t do often. Holding her tongue had never been Gram’s style. She spooned a serving of eggs onto each plate before saying in a rush, “I don’t want another nine years to pass ’fore you come home again.”
Before June could get a single word out, Gram held up a palm and cut her off.
“Just listen,” Gram said, and paused to glance down at her lap. She fidgeted with the simple gold band she’d worn every day since Grandpa passed away twenty years earlier. “I know I was hard on you growin’ up. But when your mama died—” She shook her head and went silent awhile. “You can’t know that pain, June. Not till you’re a mama yourself. I kept thinkin’ if I’d raised her right, she wouldn’a come up so wild. Maybe she’d still be with us.”
“Grammy, you can’t blame yourself for—”
“Don’t interrupt. I gotta say this, and it ain’t easy.” June nodded and fought to keep silent while Gram went on. “I couldn’t make the same mistake with you. I vowed to bring you up proper. To be strict and…maybe I went too far sometimes. But I did my best.” Though Gram’s bun gripped her hair into tight submission, she smoothed an imaginary stray lock back into place. “Took a long time to admit to myself I drove you away. But things’ll be different now. You’re all grown, and I’m mighty proud of you. You don’t have to stay away, June.”
June took Grammy’s large hands and smoothed a palm over her spotted, paper-thin skin. These were strong hands—the hands of a woman who’d buried her only child alongside her husband and then pushed down her grief to take in two energetic, young children and raise them as her own. Growing up, June had always resented Grammy’s rigid control, never understanding the motivation behind it. Maybe it was a good thing June had abandoned psychology after all, since she seemed blind to the obvious. Of course Gram had been afraid June would turn out like her mother. Gram had lost everyone and couldn’t bear to lose her too.
“Nothing can keep me away.” June looked directly into Gram’s watery blue eyes. “Not even if you bring out the wooden spoon.” Then she wrapped her arms around Gram’s shoulders and buried her nose in her neck, inhaling her scent of lavender soap and arthritis cream. “I love you, Grammy. And I’m sorry. For Mama and for everything else.”
They hugged and cried and hugged again, while the eggs and coffee grew cold. Then, after wiping their faces, they reheated breakfast and worked a Sudoku puzzle together; and when Lucky meowed loudly and crept into the kitchen, he hopped into Gram’s lap instead of June’s. She’d never seen him so relaxed or content. It was surreal to discover the woman June had feared her entire life had, herself, acted out of fear. June only wished
she’d known sooner. They’d wasted so much time.
***
Over the next two days, June and Luke settled into a companionable silence that was neither hostile nor friendly. He no longer snapped and criticized, but there were no jokes or casual touches, either. Though Luke still hadn’t thanked her, he seemed to have accepted June’s help, or at least resigned himself to it. June supposed it was progress, but she missed the old Luke. Sure, his teasing had tied her belly in knots and driven her half-mad sometimes, but it had reflected their years together—it proved they’d been close once and could be again if they tried.
From the other side of the quilt, Luke grunted with his mouth full of sandwich. “Too much molasses.” A complaint, but at least they were eating lunch together again.
“Covers up the taste of spit.” June tipped back her water bottle and took a long pull, feeling the icy liquid slide clear down to her stomach. “The more you whine about my sandwich-making skills, the more I’m tempted to put surprises in there.”
That earned an elusive smile, and June wished she were as unaffected by it as she pretended to be. She crawled across the dining room floor to the radio and turned the dial until she found a station that wasn’t playing heavy metal or country, which didn’t leave many options.
“I bought a present for Gram,” June said over the soft music. She doubted Luke cared, but she craved conversation, even the superficial kind. “A large-screen Sudoku game, so she can play anywhere.”
“Sudo-what?”
“Sudoku. It’s a math puzzle. Totally addictive. We’ve been playing every morning while we eat breakfast.”
“Hmm.” Luke shoved one last bite of sandwich in his mouth and stretched out on his back, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. “I thought you sucked at math.”
“It’s just simple addition.” Keeping a safe distance, June curled onto her side and propped up on one elbow. “You’ll never guess what happened the other morning.”
He didn’t try.
“Gram apologized to me.”
Luke opened one eye and lifted the brow above it. “No shit?”
“No sugar.” She noticed the corners of his lips twitch into a grin, probably in response to her non-swear. “Said she was sorry for being so controlling. She was afraid I wasn’t coming back after my month’s up.” When Luke closed his eyes again and pressed his mouth into a line, June spoke in a rush. “But I am coming back. The first year at Luquos’ll be hectic, but I’ll make time. And once I get a place, Gram can come visit. You can too.”
Only the tight set of Luke’s jaw told her he wasn’t sleeping. Otherwise, he was totally unresponsive. For a few minutes, June listened to nondescript elevator music and worked up the courage to ask a question that would either be met with anger masquerading as nonchalance or just outright anger.
“Hey, Luke? Did you ever track down your mama?”
His body tensed visibly. Slower than a broken clock, Luke turned his head and glanced at her with pure caution guarding his eyes. “Random question, isn’t it?”
“Not really.” June traced her index finger around and around one misshapen, square quilt patch. “I was thinking about how Gram and I mended our relationship, and it reminded me of you and—”
“No, I didn’t.” His eyes were still on her, but something new flashed there. Not anger, like she’d expected, but a softer emotion. If she didn’t know better, June would have thought it was trust. “She died,” he said.
“Oh, Luke. I’m sorry.” There went all hope of reuniting mother and son and possibly healing old wounds. She wondered how he’d reacted when he’d learned the news. How much time had passed since then?
“But I found my sister.”
“What?” June’s voice rose three octaves, and she sat upright. “And you never told me?”
Luke gave a casual shrug and then closed his eyes again. “I’m telling you now.”
“Well?”
“She’s a junior at UCLA, journalism major. A really good kid—I’m surprised she turned out so well, considering. Pretty girl too.”
“Oh!” June remembered the young woman from the photo in Luke’s desk drawer, and everything snapped into place. That wasn’t his wife; it was his sister. Relief flooded her chest, so much that June lifted her hand to hold it all inside. “Short blond hair and really tan?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?” It didn’t take two seconds for him to figure it out. “You went through my stuff. Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you know me. I played with your Snake Eyes doll too.”
“Hey,” he said, pointing a finger at her, “it’s not a doll. It’s an action figure. There’s a difference.”
“Sure there is.” June rolled her eyes. She wondered how much Luke’s sister had known about him before they’d reunited, but then “Under the Boardwalk” came on the radio before she had the chance to ask. It brought back a deluge of sweet memories: the stiff swish of a taffeta gown, the taste of lime punch, the feel of Luke’s powerful hands around her waist. “It’s our song,” she said, unable to contain a smile.
“We have a song?” Luke leaned up on one elbow.
“Well, no. But we danced to this at prom. Remember?” The theme had been Underwater Enchantment, and since Gram hadn’t allowed dancing, June and Luke had pretended to go to a baseball game and then changed into their formal clothes in the school locker room.
“Junebug, I can’t even remember what I ate—”
“Yeah, yeah, for breakfast.” Still smiling at the memory, she folded her legs and leaned toward him. “You took me to the prom after Tommy Boyd broke up with me and asked Joy Giggliano instead. It was so sweet of you.”
She’d cried for days over Tommy’s rejection, but when prom night had finally arrived, June had been over the moon when Luke held her close and danced with her in front of everyone. For the first time since they’d been friends, he’d treated her like a real lady, bringing her punch and pulling out her chair to help her sit down. He’d even told her how pretty she’d looked in the dress she’d found at a secondhand store. She hadn’t given Tommy Boyd a second thought after that. Funny, she’d just seen Tommy for the first time since graduation, at the fair. He hadn’t aged well, a fact that shouldn’t have pleased her, but it did. June sighed contently and rested her chin in her palm, humming along with the Drifters.
“Uh, about that…” Luke glanced over with a sheepish expression on his face—the same look he’d given her after he’d dropped her CD player in the pond. The one she’d saved a year’s babysitting wages to buy. “I have a confession.”
“About?”
“I may have…discouraged…Tom from taking you as his date.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No, but here’s the thing.” Luke sat up and held one palm forward, speaking in a hurry, as if she might bolt at the news. “I overheard him talking about you during gym. He had plans, Junebug.”
“Is that code for something?”
“He wanted inside your panties.”
“And?”
“I took him behind the dugout and threatened to beat the shit out of him if he laid a finger on you. I had a good six inches and thirty pounds on the guy, so…” Luke shrugged as if the rest was obvious. “And believe me, he’s a total ass wipe now. I did you a favor.”
It took a few seconds for the reality of his words to penetrate the reminiscent haze June had worked herself into, but then a hot ember blazed to life inside her belly. She remembered the moment when Tommy had dumped her, and how her face had flushed with mortification. In the world of a teenage girl, there was no fate worse than being jilted right before the prom. She’d walked around school with her head hung low for a week. And why? Because Luke had thought she might get lucky?
“You…I can’t believe—” In her furious stupor, June couldn’t quite get the words out.
“And then you came home crying and carrying on, and I felt terrible. I knew you had a little crush o
n me, so I offered to take you instead.”
“How kind of you,” June snapped, each word sharper than a snake’s fang. “You didn’t trust me to keep my dress on, so you chose for me. You sanctimonious son of a bi—”
“Biscuit-eater?” he offered with a cocky grin that enraged her even more.
“No.” June clamped her lips together and sucked in a deep, deep breath through her nose before she said something she’d regret later. But she released it almost immediately, because there was one clarification to make. “And it wasn’t a little crush. I loved you.”
Luke made a dismissive noise and rolled to his feet. “C’mon. No you didn’t. Girls confuse sex and love all the time, especially with their first.”
“I think I know my own feelings better than you.”
A patronizing shrug was his only reply, and June felt her patience snap like a dried twig.
“I didn’t get my psych degree, but I still know egocentrism when I see it! Don’t assume that just because you’re incapable of love, the rest of us are too. I loved you harder than I’ve ever loved any man before or since. Maybe you can’t handle hearing that, but it’s true, and I won’t let you tell me it’s not!”
“Hey,” he said, raising his voice, “I’m not incapable of anything.”
“I would’ve cut my life short by ten years to make you love me, and then you took everything I wanted and handed it to another woman just three months after I left. That’s the real reason I cut you out of my life, Luke. Not because of what happened at the pond. That hurt my pride, but I was getting over it. But I couldn’t watch you love someone else. I couldn’t watch you touch her face and stroke her hair.” June’s throat closed, and she fought to keep her voice steady. “So don’t tell me it was a crush!”
Pushing off the quilt, she scrambled to her feet and walked—because she refused to run—upstairs to the master bathroom. She knew her hands were too shaky to finish caulking around the new sink, but she needed a quiet space to cry. She could feel the tears coming, and by God, Luke wouldn’t see them.