by Score, Lucy
“Harper, do we have children … and fish?”
“Surprise!” she teased. “No, I take the kids overnight every two weeks or so to give Mrs. Agosta a break. I got tired of blowing up air mattresses so I got these from Bob’s. The kids won the damn fish at the Fourth of July carnival, and I kept them here rather than give Mrs. Agosta one more thing to worry about. Ava sleeps in the double bed in the other room. She calls it her big girl bed.”
Luke poked his head into the third bedroom and took in the purple throw pillows and floppy stuffed unicorn.
“You’ve been busy. Any surprises on the third floor?”
There weren’t any on the third floor, but there were some in other areas of life. With the success of Garrison Construction’s first tiny house, his dad insisted on continuing his weekly lunch dates with Harper and Beth. And who could forget the expression on Luke’s face when he showed up on a job site to find Harper drywalling with Angry Frank.
On any given day, he’d come home to find his mother or Aunt Syl having coffee in the kitchen with Harper.
It was Claire who suggested that Harper and Luke host Thanksgiving to celebrate Luke’s homecoming. Harper threw herself into the planning. She had an entire Pinterest board dedicated to sweet potato side dishes and bought new place settings for twelve.
Luke just smiled and nodded every time she launched into another one-sided debate of the merits of oven roasted Brussels sprouts or dried cranberries in stuffing. It would be her first big family Thanksgiving, and she was determined to make it everything she’d ever dreamed of.
Finally, the day arrived. Harper dragged herself from bed at 4 a.m. and started her prep. She would make this the best Thanksgiving Luke had had in a long time.
***
He was lost in a dream. Dressed in his fatigues, Luke was on the bus coming home. Buoyed by the excitement of his men, he was counting the miles to Benevolence. To Karen.
They would share their news with the family today. A new Garrison baby.
And Luke had made a decision. He would be leaving the Guard. His business was growing fast enough that it demanded more of his attention. And he wanted to be the kind of father Charlie had been to him. Present. Involved.
The bus rounded a turn and Luke could see the lot. He could pick out the spot where his family would be waiting.
But someone was missing.
The bus braked hard. The impact was unavoidable. They pitched violently to one side and Luke felt the sickening crunch of grinding metal and shattering glass deep in his bones.
In the seconds that followed the crash, a tainted silence hung in the air. Luke dragged himself through the wreckage, over shards of glass and twisted metal.
There was no movement from inside the bus, just him and his driving desire to get out.
He kicked through a window and crawled out onto the asphalt. Acrid smoke clouded his senses. Still, he was drawn forward.
Karen’s car — the car they planned to trade in on an SUV for their growing family — was almost unrecognizable. The front end was smashed into the cabin. Smoke rose from the wreck. The windshield was shattered. The deployed airbag was slowly turning scarlet under the blonde head that rested on it.
Wait. That wasn’t right. It should have been Karen’s chestnut waves on the steering wheel. Not the blonde locks of …
Luke raced to the car. His shaking hands reached through the broken window and touched her. The still form shifted and he saw her face.
Her beautiful face marred by a gash across her forehead.
Harper.
He knew with a sick certainty that he’d never again see the light in those gray eyes.
He heard screams and sirens, but saw only her lifeless face.
Luke woke with his heart racing, breaking. Instinctively, he reached for Harper. He felt raw with the dredges of the dream still clinging to him. He needed Harper’s touch to chase away the dark. But the bed was empty
He pushed into a seated position, pressing his fingers into the phoenix over his aching heart. When did he start needing her touch to steady him?
It was the problem he dreaded from the beginning. He didn’t have room in his heart for anyone. His memories of Karen took up all the space he had.
He shouldn’t be distracting himself from his loss with someone else. How had he stumbled so far down this road?
Luke shoved out of bed and turned the water in the shower to scalding, hoping to melt the ice in his veins.
By the time he made it downstairs, the kitchen was fully involved. Food prep was happening on every flat surface. Lola and Max were happily slurping up a gravy spill near the stove.
Harper, with the light of life in her eyes, breezed passed him and brushed a kiss to his cheek. “Morning, handsome.” She handed him a cup of coffee and turned back to the stovetop. “I know what you’re thinking, but I swear I’ll clean it all up. I just want everything to be perfect.”
“How many people are coming? This looks like enough food to feed a military base.”
“Twelve for lunch and then Mrs. Agosta’s bringing the kids by for dessert.”
He did the math. “Mrs. Moretta, Aldo, Gloria. Who’s number eleven?”
Harper ducked her head over the steaming pot on the stove. “I invited Joni. Her sister and brother-in-law usually host, but this year they’re in North Carolina with their son.”
Of course she invited Joni. The one woman whose presence reminded him of his loss and his role in it. “I don’t suppose you thought to ask me first,” he snapped.
He saw her wince under his words. The timer buzzed and she sidestepped Max to pull two pies out of the oven. She set them on cooling racks on the counter and dropped the hot pads. “I’m sorry. I should have asked you first.”
She looked contrite, but it wasn’t enough.
“This is still my house isn’t it?”
Harper crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. She didn’t fight back and that’s what he wanted. A good fight, but she wouldn’t even give him that.
“I’m sorry. Sometimes I’m not sure when I’m overstepping my bounds.”
“Here’s a hint. When it’s my family and my house or my business, it’s my decision.” The words were sharp enough they could have drawn blood.
Harper narrowed her gaze at him. “Understood. Thanks for clearing that up.”
“I don’t think you want to mess with me right now.” He slammed his mug down on the counter sending coffee sloshing over the rim.
“No, I don’t. I’d rather give you a great holiday with your family in your house.” She turned her back on him and picked up the cutting board of neatly diced potatoes.
“I’m going for a run,” Luke announced, and stormed out.
***
He let the pounding of his feet on pavement quiet his brain. It was just a dream, but he couldn’t convince himself that it was meaningless. Harper wasn’t Karen. And that was the problem.
He chose his route at random, pushing himself. He focused on the speed, his breath. Houses with full driveways passed in a blur and gave way to the closed storefronts of Main Street. He turned down a street and then another until the buildings were replaced with trees and headstones.
The cemetery. Of course his subconscious had brought him to Karen. Luke slowed his pace and let the skinny ribbon of asphalt carry him to her.
There was a small, festive pumpkin resting against the black granite of her stone. Probably Joni’s work.
Joni.
Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his past in the past. She was a constant reminder of the life he once had. The life he would never get back. He didn’t understand her blossoming relationship with Harper. Was she trying to replace the daughter she lost?
Didn’t she know that Karen was irreplaceable?
He laid a hand on the stone, warm from the morning sun. “Happy Thanksgiving, Kare.”
***
She allowed herself ten minutes between timers to run upstairs to change
. The Garrisons kept it casual to the point of pajama pants and elastic waistbands for the holiday. It was a tradition she could get behind. She dragged on yoga pants and a soft, stretchy v-neck sweater the color of cranberries.
If only Luke would come around. She was more worried than she cared to admit. The anger in his tone, in his eyes, scared her and pissed her off. If he wasn’t willing to talk about it, how could she help?
The doorbell rang at the same time the oven timer buzzed. Harper wiped a stray tear from her face with a tea towel. She would not give in to the strong desire she had to kick Luke’s ass today. Maybe tomorrow.
She couldn’t ignore the periodic silences and the gulfs of distance that cropped up between them anymore. Something was wrong and it needed to be addressed. She only hoped it was something fixable. She loved that man so much it shook her to the core. And when he hurt, she hurt.
Harper turned off the timer, squared her shoulders, and welcomed Luke’s family into his home.
They entered en masse, Claire, Charlie, James, Ty, Sophie, and Josh. Making themselves at home in the kitchen and living room carting in food, sneaking tastes. Charlie turned the game on the TV while Josh and the dogs took turns chasing each other through the kitchen and dining room.
She told everyone Luke was out for a run to make up for the thirty pounds of food he planned to eat. Everyone seemed to buy it.
When Luke returned, sweaty and exhausted, Harper painted a bright smile on her face and avoided him in the kitchen. She wanted to be supportive, and stabbing him with a meat fork in front of his family would not be supportive.
She was thankful that his greetings to everyone seemed genuine. He hoisted Josh up on his shoulders and gave his mother a peck on the cheek. He hip-checked Sophie on his way to the refrigerator where he grabbed beers for himself and Charlie and James. Ty was on call.
Luke avoided eye contact with her, which was fine with Harper. She breathed a sigh of relief when he headed upstairs to shower again.
Joni arrived at the same time as Gloria, Aldo, and Mrs. Moretta. Thankful for the chaos of a full house, Harper stayed in the kitchen and directed her new team of helpers. Luke mainly stayed in the living room with everyone else.
She couldn’t tell if he was avoiding her or Joni. Or, more likely, both.
She caught him watching her once. Joni handed over her green bean casserole and a handwritten recipe card. “It was my mother’s,” Joni said with a sentimental smile. “I’d like another generation to continue the tradition.
Overcome, Harper hugged her. Her first family recipe during her first family holiday. She saw Claire smiling at them across the island and felt another gaze leveled in her direction. Luke stood in the doorway, a look of shock on his face.
Their eyes met and held. Harper released Joni from the hug and Luke grabbed another beer out of the fridge before hightailing it down the hallway.
No one else seemed to notice the tension. Not even during lunch when Harper chose a seat at the opposite end of the table from Luke.
While everyone went back for seconds — and, in James’ and Ty’s cases, thirds — Harper pushed turkey and mashed potatoes around her plate. It all tasted like gravy-covered packing peanuts to her.
Luke didn’t touch much on his plate, either, preferring to refill his wine glass instead.
Conversation flew around them.
Gloria and Aldo teased each other with forkfuls of stuffing while Mrs. Moretta and Sophie argued good-naturedly about organic vegetables.
“When Aldo was growing up, he ate all the pesticide-laden broccoli I put in front of him and turned out just fine,” Mrs. Moretta, in her best turkey sweater, snickered.
Charlie and James took turns sneaking into the living room to check the score of the game.
As the action around the table died down, Joni, on Claire’s left, cleared her throat. “I just wanted to thank Harper and Luke for inviting me today. It’s been a hard few years, and it means so much that you still treat me like family. It’s good to be reminded of what’s really important in life, and you all have done that for me. So thank you for that. And Happy Thanksgiving!” She raised her wine glass.
Everyone raised their wine glasses. “To family,” Charlie said, winking at Harper.
“To family,” everyone echoed.
Aldo patted Harper on the back and winked at her. “Nice job, Harp,” he whispered.
She snuck a glance at Luke who was frowning into his empty glass.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
They decided to leave the dishes for later and run off some of the food with a friendly football game. As with all Garrison games, the friendly pick-up fun quickly turned into a skirmish.
Harper, Luke, Aldo, and Gloria squared off in the backyard against Ty, Sophie, and James while everyone else hunkered down in front of the TV to watch football or fall asleep.
After a few leisurely jogs down the “field,” Harper felt her spirits lift.
Safely out of Claire’s earshot, the siblings trash-talked playfully. James scored an early touchdown, and Luke criticized Harper’s defense. So on the next long bomb Ty threw, Harper was ready. She jumped on James’ back and hung on for dear life as he caught the ball.
With his free hand, James spun her around to his front and tossed her over his shoulder. He took off, unhindered by the extra weight, and didn’t stop until he was in the end zone next to Harper’s garden.
He spun her around in circles as she laughed.
“Oh my God, put me down or I’m going to barf on you,” she gasped.
Her feet no sooner hit the ground then Luke slammed into James like a runaway school bus. He shoved his younger brother back a pace.
“What the hell, man?” James shoved back. In the span of a second, they were on the ground wrestling.
“Luke!” Harper’s sharp tone did nothing to break it up.
Sophie smacked Ty in the chest. “What are you waiting for, Mr. Law and Order?” Get in there and break it up.”
“Soph, I just ate three plates of turkey. I can’t bend over.”
“For the love of —” Aldo charged into the fray and dragged Luke off of James. “Knock it off,” he ordered pushing Luke over to the patio. “Cool off before you make a bigger ass of yourself.”
“What’s your problem?” James looked more confused than pissed off.
Harper crossed her arms against the November chill. “He’s been drinking. A lot,” she said. “I don’t know what’s going on with him.”
Sophie shook her head. “You better find out before Mom catches wind of this. She’ll want to hook him up with a therapist next.”
“That’s way worse than a spanking,” Aldo said.
Harper sighed and crossed the yard to Luke. He was sitting on the picnic table examining a cut on the back of his right hand. He stared as a trickle of blood rolled off his hand onto the brick of the patio.
“Come on inside. I’ll clean that up for you,” she said, reaching for him.
He pulled back. “I can take care of it.”
Harper leaned in. “Don’t be an asshole. You’ve got two choices. You either go upstairs with me now to get this cleaned up, or I let Sophie tell your mom you just tried to tear your brother’s head off at Thanksgiving because his team was beating yours.”
“He had his hands all over you.”
“That’s bullshit and it’s not going to go over any better with Claire. Let’s go.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked, but he got up and followed her inside.
In their bathroom upstairs, she gently cleaned the cut with soap and water. “I can do this myself,” he grumbled.
Harper ignored him and taped a piece of gauze over the wound.
“What? So now you’re pissed at me?”
“Now? More like still,” she said coolly.
“What the hell do you have to be pissed about? You got everything you wanted.”
He stood up, towering over her. Hands on hips, Harper went toe to toe with him.
“I don’t know what is going on in that head of yours, but I’m guessing the beer and wine didn’t help. I’m pissed because once again you can’t be bothered to talk to me. What is going on with you? Is it coming home? Joni? Me? I’m not a freaking mind reader.” She poked him in the chest.
“You’re upset about something and it’s probably valid. But instead of talking to me about it, you just want to wallow in it and lash out. That’s what I’m pissed off about.”
She wiped her hands on the towel and threw it back on the counter. “So either go find someone to talk to or find some way to deal with it. Don’t take it out on everyone else.”
Harper made a move to brush past him but found herself caged against the vanity and between Luke’s arms.
She lifted her chin and stared him in the eye. For a second, she caught a glimpse of something beyond sadness. And then it was gone and he was crushing his mouth to hers with a need so intense it stole her breath.
“Goddamnit. Why do you do this to me?” Luke asked as his lips roamed her face. His hands streaked under her sweater. Busy fingers cruised to the front closure of her bra and flicked it open.
He filled his hands with her breasts and brought his mouth to hers.
They moaned together.
He slid a hand into the waistband of her yoga pants, fingers sliding over her slick folds and into her heat.
“I hate how much I want you.” His fingers drove into her tight center and she gasped at the invasion. His erection begged to be released.
He drove into her again and again, spreading her thighs further apart with his knee. She wanted to stay angry, but her body didn’t care. When Luke’s hands were on her, nothing else mattered.
“Luke!” Her breathy moan brought him back and he pulled his fingers out of her. Dropping his forehead to hers, he tried to catch his breath.
“Why do you let me use you like this?”
And with that, he pushed back and left the room.
Harper’s knees shook and she leaned against the sink for support. Use her? Is that what he thought he was doing?