by Julia London
And now, she had to talk to Luke. Madeline waited until she was sure Stephen was gone, and then she stood, up, too. The waiter looked confused. “Something came up,” she said, and walked out, the keys to the Pontiac in her hand.
She was nervous when she turned on to Elm Street and saw that lights were on. Luke’s Bronco was not in sight, but she could at least tell someone she’d come by. Maybe she could say hi to Leo, try that silly game video again. Madeline parked in front of the house, gripped the enormous steering wheel of the Pontiac and rested her forehead against it.
Her life had not prepared her for these moments, but for once in her damn life, Madeline was determined to tell Luke how she felt. She had to, if only for herself. She had been transformed by her time in the mountains. Part of her had been illuminated, and Madeline didn’t particularly like what she’d seen: a coward. A closed-off, emotionally drained woman who hid behind tasks and schedules and anxiety. But there were other parts, stronger parts, that she did not intend to lose. So she would say what she needed to say, and if Luke didn’t feel the same way, well… she would cross that bridge then.
She made herself open the door of the car. She made herself get out and walk through the gate. She was committed then, and quickened her step, jogging up the two steps to the porch. She opened the screen and knocked loudly, and steeled herself, her chin up when she heard the footfall of someone coming to the door.
As it swung open, Madeline smiled brightly. Until she noticed how puffy Marisol’s eyes were. “Marisol!” she exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head. “Leo. He is in the hospital.”
Madeline stopped breathing for a moment. “The hospital?”
“A seizure. A very bad seizure.”
Nausea began to spiral in Madeline. “Where? Here? Is there a hospital in Pine River?”
“No, no, Durango. They all go to Durango.”
Madeline looked wildly about. She had no idea where Durango was. “Is there something I can do to help?” she asked, her mind racing. “I could take them some things if they need them, I have the Pontiac. Tell me what I can do to help.”
“Julie, she takes their things. She’s gone already with their things. You cannot help now. Now, we wait.”
Madeline’s heart sank to her toes. She stepped back from the door. “I am so sorry, Marisol. I hope everything is okay. You don’t know how much I hope everything is okay.”
Marisol nodded, but she was already pulling the door closed.
“I’m so sorry,” Madeline said again, bending to one side as Marisol waved to her around the door and shut it.
Madeline stood there a long moment, staring at the door in something of a daze. Her mind was whirling with fear for Leo, with pain for Luke and his family. And with regret. So much goddamn regret.
She finally turned around and walked back to the Pontiac.
THIRTY-ONE
I didn’t die if that’s what you think.
I gave everyone a good scare, though, because according to Dad, my seizure was worse than normal. I don’t remember a thing about it, except waking up and looking into the big brown Bambi eyes of Tiffany, my favorite nurse. It was sort of like waking up in the middle of a bunch of vestal virgins. Which, I should point out, is not all it’s cracked up to be, according to PBS and their great series on the Romans.
Tiffany totally ruined the fantasy by telling me I had a seizure and that yes, she was married and happily so. Man, give a guy a break! I’m going to demand only single nurses from here on out.
But here is the interesting part about my seizure—who do you think showed up with overnight kits for Dad and Luke? (Dad and Luke, by the way, clearly thought this was It, the big Swan Song, seeing as how they were both racked out in my room when Tiffany brought me back to the land of the living). Anyway, who showed up but Julie Daugherty! I was surprised, and I was super happy she didn’t bring The Stinker. She leaned over and whispered to Luke, and he sat up and said thanks, and then he looked at me. He said, “Leo,” in this cracking voice, and I said, “Oh man, don’t get all weepy eyed on me now, Luke.”
C’est la vie. There was a lot of carrying on about my not-so-miraculous recovery, and Dad got especially verklempt, and put his head on my leg and he cried, actually cried, and then everyone was talking and laughing nervously like, whew, it didn’t happen yet, and I was thinking, sheesh, tonight is the start of the new season of Survivor, so could we move this along a little?
The doctor came in and he said, “Well, I hate to tell you this, but Leo is going to be okay for now.” Everyone’s a comedian these days.
He said, “We’ve got a new seizure medicine that we think will work very well, given your symptoms. And we are also going to increase your intake of blah blah blah-di blah.” Because everyone knows I am not taking enough medicine, right? I didn’t really listen to much until he said, “But I think, if you remain stable, we can let you go home in twenty-four hours.”
I was hoping that balloons would drop out of the ceiling and a naked Tiffany would bust out of a cake, but of course that didn’t happen. But what did happen is that Dad asked if he could speak to the doctor outside, and Luke said, “Julie, can I talk to you?” And he put his hand on her elbow like they were a couple and led her out. And he didn’t come back for a really, really long time. So long that Dad finally agreed to go down and find me something to eat besides gruel, which is what they serve you in hospitals if they think you can’t swallow.
I was lying there, minding my own business, wishing Julie had brought “Hounds of Hell” because hospital TV is boring and here comes Luke, and I swear, he looked worse than me. I said, “So what’s going on? Are you and Julie getting together? Am I going to have to put up with The Stinker pulling out tubes and messing with my TV?”
Luke gave me one of those looks and said, “I guess the seizure made you completely crazy, and not just half-assed crazy. No, we are not going to be a couple. In fact, I just told her it wasn’t going to happen and to quit bugging me about it.” That’s not exactly what he said, but I reserve the right to paraphrase if necessary.
Anyway, bottom line is that he dumped her once and for all. Let me tell you, if I could sit up, I would have hugged him. But instead I said, “Oh, do tell.”
Luke said that he told her that he couldn’t go backward, he could only go forward, which of course I took to mean Blue Eyes, and I said so, but Luke shook his head and said, “Stay out of it, Leo. She’s got issues. Anyway, I need to get back to Denver. I mean, assuming you’re okay. I’ve got houses to finish.”
Between you and me, I would be the last person to tell Luke not to go back to Denver, because I mean, what’s worse than that, asking someone to stay behind because you can’t even pee by yourself, you know? Still, I was kind of hoping he’d stay. I like having him around. I know he and Dad argue a lot, but they argue about big important stuff, like what’s going to happen with the ranch. I know he’s got the house thing going, and he worked really hard to get his degree. So I said, “Great! Those houses won’t build themselves, you know.” Just like Dad.
And he said, “No, they won’t. I figure it’s even more important now, because the lawyer says that without some divine miracle or some great compassionate concession by the heirs, we can kiss Homecoming Ranch good-bye.”
He looked so sad about that, and I felt really bad for him, because I know Luke is the sentimental kind. He likes the idea of big fancy ranches and big families. That’s all I was thinking when I said, “Maybe you and Blue Eyes could work it out in the bedroom instead of the front yard.”
I meant that in the nicest possible way. I wouldn’t lie to you.
But Luke, he said, “You know, if you weren’t lying there like a sack of beans, I would knock your block off.”
And I said, “Go ahead, try it. I’ve still got some kick in me,” which reminded me of the NBA season a couple of years ago, and I said, “Do you remember that game between the Spurs and the Mavericks where there
was that big throw-down and they were ejecting players left and right?” And we started laughing about that.
I never got to finish up with my critically acclaimed thinking about Blue Eyes.
THIRTY-TWO
Exhaustion set in before Luke made it back to Pine River. Sitting vigil at a bedside for a couple of days was enough to exhaust the strongest person, but add to that, in the middle of it he had finally, at long last, told Julie to take a hike.
He felt a huge sense of relief now that he’d done it, now that he’d told her in no uncertain terms that he did not love her anymore, would not love her again, and to please stop coming around. He just wondered why it had taken him so long. He wondered why he’d never been able, until now, to let go.
He didn’t want to think it had anything to do with Madeline. He didn’t want to think about her at all.
He wasn’t exactly angry with Madeline—he guessed that if the shoe had been on the other foot, he might have said and done the same things she had. He would like to think he would have been more straightforward about it, but really, he didn’t know. It was all so screwed up to begin with.
Luke felt like he didn’t know anything anymore. The only thing he knew was that he needed to get back to his life, to filling the hours and days with work and school. To keep all thoughts and feelings at a numbing distance.
He drove through Pine River and out to Homecoming Ranch to check on things.
The place was a wreck. Trash cans were overflowing, which was an invitation to disaster when wild animals roamed nearby. The Johnsons had trampled paths in the grass between the bunkhouse and house, which were now muddy thanks to afternoon rains. They needed gravel or, at the very least, straw.
Luke pulled in behind a multicolored bus from the rafting company. It was disgorging Johnsons like red bouncing balls. Libby was standing at the fence, wearing a sun hat, checking off names as they came off the bus.
He walked up behind her. “Hey Libby, how are you doing?”
She looked up at him, her expression harried. “Hey, stranger! I’ve learned a lot, Luke. A lot! Next time, we need some controls. Hey, Albie!” she shouted, looking at something over Luke’s shoulder. He turned around, saw a boy who looked to be about ten trying to coax a barking Roscoe out beyond the fence. “What did I tell you about bugging the dogs? Leave them alone!”
“Like I was saying,” she said, glaring at the kid as he skipped by, “I have a pretty good idea what we need to do.”
Luke didn’t think now was a good time to say that he wouldn’t be part of any “next time.”
“Is Madeline around?” he asked.
Libby frowned. “Not this morning. I guess she had things to do in town.”
Just as well, Luke thought. He didn’t know what he would say to her at this point. Good-bye and good luck, he supposed. “What can I do to help?” he asked.
“That shower is acting up again,” Libby said. “No hot water this morning. And two of the cows came down and wandered into the campsite. You’ve never seen so many people scramble in your life. Like they were bears. Ernest drove them back up, but he hasn’t been here to help with the two tents that were knocked off their pads.”
“I’m on it,” he said.
The repair to the shower took him a good hour, an hour in which he had time to think. He would explain to Libby that if she and her sisters decided to keep the ranch, they would need to build a real shower facility. The temporary ones were not built for this kind of use. He would suggest that if they were going to keep on with these events, they invest in some cabins. He would tell them to make sure that they kept the trash locked up and to check the hot water heater about once a week. The thing was old, and sometimes the pilot went out.
There were so many things he could tell them. So many things. That there was a fort down by the campsite, hidden in the bushes. That there was a little trail up the mountain, about five hundred vertical feet, where they could see a waterfall. That his mother’s hummingbird mixture was the best for keeping hummingbirds around, that the rabbits would eat from the vegetable garden so to be sure and cage the plants. That they needed to oil the weather vane from time to time or the squeaking would drive them crazy.
So many things.
When Luke was ready to leave, he stopped in to see Libby once more. She was at the kitchen table, sorting over papers. “Hey!” she said brightly. “Do you want something to eat? They gave me a big tray of brisket and I can’t eat it all—”
“No, I’ve got to get to town. Libby, I’m not coming back.”
“What?” Libby studied him a minute, as if she was trying to make sense of those words. “You mean, ever?”
He shrugged. “I’ve got my work in Denver and I’ve left it long enough.”
“But I thought…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I hate to see you go, Luke. I hate how we came to know each other, too. I hate how this property came into our hands. I wish it could have been different for all of us.”
“I appreciate that, Libby, but it isn’t different, and I need to get on with my life. Ernest can help you with anything you need, you know.”
“I know. Most of the Johnsons are leaving tomorrow anyway.” She smiled wryly and stood up. Before Luke knew what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around him. “Thanks for everything, Luke. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”
He hugged her back. “Take care, Libby.”
He walked out to the garage and his Bronco. The Pontiac, he noticed, was gone. It seemed almost as if it was a sign from his mother—even her spirit had left the ranch. It wasn’t theirs any longer. This wasn’t where his family was anymore. His family was in Pine River. This was now just a place he’d once lived.
Luke drove back to town and the little green house on Elm Street to pick up a few things before heading back to Denver. He was grateful to find that Marisol had picked up after their panicked, heart-stopping flight to the hospital. Luke had a vague recollection of food on the floor, of Leo’s nutritional drink spilling everywhere. Even in the best of circumstances, three men in a tiny house led to some pretty disgusting piles of stuff.
He found most of his clothes in folded piles, scattered between the living room and Leo’s room. He stuffed them into his bag. In the living room, he searched for a pair of his shoes, and heard someone walking up the drive. He assumed it was Marisol.
“Luke?”
The sound of Madeline’s voice slipped in and wound tightly around his heart. He slowly turned his gaze to the door. She was standing on the other side of the screen, looking pretty in blue. Heartbreakingly pretty.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, not unkindly.
“I need to talk to you.”
The last thing he wanted was another emotional discussion—he’d had enough in the last forty-eight hours to fill a lifetime. “Maddie… now is not a good time,” he said. “I’ve got to get back to Denver and I’ve had a long couple of days.”
“I know. I heard. I’m so sorry about Leo. Is he…?”
“He’s okay,” Luke said. “For now.”
They stood, staring at each other. There was so much unspoken between them, so much that didn’t really need to be said because it was palpable in that little living room.
“May I come in?” she asked.
Luke groaned softly to the ceiling. He didn’t want to do this, not now, not after everything he’d just been through. But he couldn’t find the strength to say no to her.
She took his silence for a yes and opened the screen door, stepped apprehensively over the threshold. “I need to explain something,” she said, before he had a chance to speak. “I didn’t know those men, or Stephen, were coming to Homecoming Ranch. I mean I knew the broker had a potential buyer, but I thought he would call me with some figures that I could present to all of you.”
Luke arched a dubious brow.
“I swear it, Luke. I was expecting a phone call. Not an entourage. Not a buyer.”
“Why didn
’t you tell me you were expecting anything? Or tell Libby for that matter? Why didn’t you just say that you had hired a lawyer?”
“Because I had this idea in my head that I would have it altogether in one neat little package, so that all your questions would be answered.”
“Sometimes, these things aren’t so neat,” Luke pointed out, and wondered how she could not know that.
“I know, I know,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I honestly thought I was doing the right thing, but the only thing I did was hurt you, and hurt Libby.” She sighed, and he noticed that tears were pooling in her eyes. “It was stupid,” she said with a shrug. “I really had no idea that they would come, that Stephen would come. I’m not with him, you know,” she said. “That’s the other thing I need to say. I am not with him. There was nothing there to begin with, but now I have made that very clear to him. And to you.”
Luke believed that. But he had nothing to say to it. At this point, it just felt too late for this.
Madeline seemed to sense his apathy, because she said very earnestly, “And the last thing I want to tell you is that I told Chip I am not looking for a buyer right now. I told him that Emma and Libby and I have to decide what we are going to do, and that it was going to take a while, because we have just met one another.”
Luke arched a brow at that. “Do Libby and Emma know this?”
“Yes.” She smiled a little. “And we’re still arguing about what it is we want to do.”
“Well, I’ll make it easy for all of you. The Kendricks are not going to pursue Homecoming Ranch. We don’t have the money to buy it back, and honestly, I don’t think Dad and Leo want to go back.” It pained him to say it, but he had accepted the truth.
“But you do,” she said.
He did. God, he did. But Luke swallowed down his disappointment for the hundredth time and shrugged. “Yeah, well, some things are not meant to be.” He looked at her pointedly.
Madeline swallowed. “There’s time, Luke. Really. We’re not in any hurry to sell it. Libby really wants to do this wedding, and she is okay with me going back to Orlando and leaving her to do it. Like, really okay,” she said, sounding a little sad about it.