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Waiting on You

Page 32

by Kristan Higgins


  "You know what else he said?" Bryce said wetly, pulling back to mop his face.

  "What's that, buddy?"

  "He said I was everything he ever hoped for in a son." Bryce's face crumpled again.

  "Hi," said the kindly nurse. "Do you need some more time with your dad, boys?"

  "He's my dad," Bryce corrected. "Not his."

  And that about summed it up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  COLLEEN HAD JUST come out of the shower and was contemplating a binge of Ben & Jerry's to help resist the urge to call Lucas. He had shit going on and didn't need her bugging him with stupid texts like Thinking of you! or Hey, wanna come over? And it was 1:33 a.m. He could well be asleep, and it had hurt her heart to see how tired he looked earlier.

  Yep. Ben & Jerry's it was, the only two men who'd never let her down. Vanilla Heath Bar, or Peanut Brittle? Peanut Brittle it was, the crystal meth of the ice cream world. She'd bought eleven pints last week, terrified that Faith would hit the market first and clean them out.

  Rufus lumbered to his feet. Ah rah! Ah rah! Ah rooroo rah! he bellowed in his mighty baritone. Sure enough, a knock came at the door.

  She tossed the ice cream back in the freezer and opened the door.

  It was Lucas, and those pirate eyes were unbearably sad.

  "Oh, honey," she said, and wrapped her arms around him because it was written all over his face.

  "He's gone," Lucas said. He let her hold him, but he seemed...lost.

  Ah rah! Ah rah roo! her beastie said.

  "Come in," she murmured. "Are you hungry? Want a drink?"

  "No. Colleen--" He stopped. She waited.

  He didn't continue.

  Rufus, however, began his typical "are you a boy or a girl" investigation. "Okay, Rufus, no. Go away, boy."

  Her dog obeyed. Lucas, however, just stood there.

  Shit. A white-hot brand of fear and guilt rammed through her heart. He knew. Oh, sphincter, he knew. Maybe she should've told him before, but--

  "I need to tell you something."

  She swallowed, her throat so dry it clacked. She wished she was wearing something other than a Tweety Bird T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

  "Um...want to sit down?"

  "No." He just looked at her, then rather shockingly cupped her face in his hands. "Colleen...the only thing that's ever really been mine is you."

  God. The words hit her like a sledgehammer. A good sledgehammer. "Oh, Spaniard," she whispered.

  "When I was a kid, I only remember my mom being sick, and then my dad worked all the time, and Steph was always out with some guy. And then when I came to live with Didi and Joe--" He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I didn't belong there, and Didi made sure I knew it."

  "Lucas," Colleen whispered, tears slipping out of her eyes. "I know Joe loved you."

  "He sent me out of the room tonight. At the end."

  No. No, that was just not fair. Oh, Joe, why did you do that?

  "I always thought if I was...good enough, quiet enough or helpful enough, I'd earn a place, you know? But I didn't. And then it hit me, hard...the only thing I've ever had that was really mine was you, Colleen. Bryce got everything handed to him, he had a home and parents who loved him and did everything for him, but once I met you, it didn't matter. I had you. You were everything to me, and I ruined it."

  "Well...I ruined it, too," she whispered.

  "No. You were upset, and you deserved to be. I handled everything wrong. I should've tried harder and done better by you, and I've regretted it every day for the past ten years. You're mine, Colleen, and I'll do better this time."

  "Lucas..." she said, but it was the only word she managed to get out.

  He kissed her then, and she kissed him back with everything she had, wrapped herself around him, his hot skin and Spanish eyes, and though he'd finally said everything, almost, that she wanted to hear, finally, finally, there was a cold trickle of dread slicing through the sunburst his words had caused.

  But that didn't matter, she told herself as she led him to bed, to comfort him, to show him how much she loved him. That was nothing, and this--he--was everything.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE came to Joe Campbell's wake. He had never been a mover or shaker in this town, not the type to join the school board or be a volunteer EMT, but the man had no enemies, either.

  Bryce was doing okay; heartbroken, but able to smile and shake hands. Didi was there at the head of the room, accepting condolences with her son. She had a brittle smile on her face that most people attributed to grief, rather than pissiness.

  Lucas and Stephanie and the girls came next, and that was it for family. Well, aside from Ellen Forbes and her parents, and her fiance, all sitting in the second row of chairs. Which was nice, of course. Far be it from the Forbes contingent to do anything other than what Emily Post recommended. Should we all attend the wake of my ex-husband's uncle?

  But of course! Especially if you're on good terms.

  Which Ellen and Lucas certainly were.

  As if reading her mind, Lucas looked over to her and smiled.

  He loved her. Still hadn't said the three magic words, but please. That was just a technicality. And good God, she loved him back.

  "Hey, beautiful," said Gerard, giving her a hug so mighty that he picked her up. "Have I thanked you for fixing me up with Lorelei? That woman can bake, let me tell you."

  "Well, so can Norine Pletts, so if things don't work out with Lorelei, you can try her. Seventy-one years young."

  "I'll keep that in mind," Gerard said.

  The four horseman of the Holland family were here with their spouses, except for horrifyingly single Jack, who'd stopped in earlier. (Colleen reminded herself to do something about that; his gene pool was too good to waste.)

  Everyone knew Bryce, of course, and Lucas had become a part of the community, thanks to handling the public safety building. There were Marian Field, the mayor of Manningsport, and Everett, her son. Victor and Lorena, also bar regulars, had been quite friendly with Joe. Connor gave her a look--Hang in there, you're doing great. She smiled back gratefully.

  As usual, Con had read her mind. It was awkward, being the once and future girlfriend, as it were, not quite the other woman, but somehow feeling that way. She didn't belong in the reception line (though she would've been if Lucas had asked), but she wanted to be here nonetheless. Every time she thought of what he said the other night, about feeling so...alone...her heart broke again.

  The only thing I've ever had that was really mine was you.

  They'd work. They had to. They'd figure something out.

  The wake was supposed to end at eight; it was quarter of now. The line had dwindled, and Grant Jacobs, the funeral director, was now standing in the back of the room, giving the subtle sign.

  Hopefully, Lucas would be able to come to her place tonight. Probably not, though, not with his sister and nieces...and the Forbes contingent. All Colleen wanted to do was comfort him. Have him lie on her couch with his head in her lap, or rub his shoulders, or make him smile however the hell she could. Her heart felt swollen and achy with love.

  "Hey," came a voice to her left.

  "Paulie! How are you? I haven't seen you in so long," Colleen said, giving her a hug. Granted, so long was anything over a week in Colleen's book, but Paulie hugged back hard, making Colleen wheeze a little.

  "How's he doing?" she asked, jerking her chin in Bryce's direction.

  "He's taking it hard." They both looked at Bryce, who was indeed weeping at the moment. Poor kid. Lucas put his hand on his cousin's shoulder and said something, and Bryce nodded.

  "I'll go say hi, then," Paulie said. "Um...come with me? These things are so freaking awkward. Can I say 'freak' in a funeral home? I was thinking the other word. Saved at the last second, I guess. Shit, I'm babbling. Oh, great, I just swore."

  "Easy, girl." Colleen gave her biceps a squeeze.

  "Yeah." Paulie sighed.
She looked nice, if a little stiff, in her black dress. "It's just my heart is breaking, looking at that." Her eyes filled as she looked at Bryce.

  "He'll be glad to see you. Come on."

  They went up to Joe's casket, and Colleen swallowed the lump in her throat at the sight of Smiling Joe Campbell, who would never again sit at the end of the bar, nursing his Empire Cream Ale. Paulie put her hand on Joe's shoulder and wiped her eyes.

  "Paulie," Bryce said. "Hey."

  "I'm sorry for your loss," she said, and offered her hand. Bryce enveloped her in a hug, bending down since Paulie was so short, and burying his face on her shoulder. "Aw, buddy," she said. "You were a great son."

  Bryce's shoulders shook with a sob.

  Dang it. Colleen seemed to be crying, too.

  Bryce straightened up. "Sorry," he said, wiping his eyes. "It's so good to see you." He turned to his mother. "Mom, you remember Paulie Petrosinsky."

  "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Campbell," Paulie said.

  "Thanks." Didi looked over Paulie's head and shot Mr. and Mrs. Forbes a smile. "Bryce, would you get me some water, please?"

  "I'll do it, Mrs. Campbell," Colleen said. "Bryce, you must be tired. Why don't you sit down for a few minutes, catch up with Paulie?"

  "Cool," Bryce said. "If you don't mind, Paulie, that is."

  "Hell, no, not at all," Paulie said.

  She wasn't blushing. No, she looked entirely normal.

  "How about that water, Kathleen?" Didi said.

  "It's Colleen, Mrs. Campbell, and you bet." Far be it from her to be impolite at a wake.

  She went to the watercooler in the back, filled a cup and turned to see Stephanie Campbell standing in front of her. "Hey," she said.

  "Hi, Steph."

  "Nice seeing you and Lucas back together, and that's all I'm gonna say. See you tomorrow." She smiled, gave Colleen's shoulder a squeeze, then herded her children out the front door.

  A sisterly blessing. She'd take it.

  When Colleen returned to the front of the room, the Forbeses were gathered around, and Colleen stood there awkwardly with the water. Didi wouldn't make eye contact, as she was too busy ass-kissing. Colleen waited. Lucas was talking to Ellen and her fiance, Steve, and damned if Colleen didn't feel like the waitress once again.

  "Excuse me, please," she said pleasantly, and Mr. Forbes leaped back.

  "Oh, I'm so sorry, my dear," he said.

  "No, not at all," Colleen said. "Here's your water, Mrs. Campbell." She forced a smile, then drifted toward Lucas. Or maybe she shouldn't. Maybe she should go. Crap, this was awkward.

  "So I'll see you at the benefit next week, right?" she overheard Ellen say.

  "I think so," Lucas said.

  "Great. I'm so sorry we can't stay for the funeral," Ellen said. "But you know I'm thinking of you."

  "I appreciate that," he said, shaking Steve's hand. "You guys have a safe trip back. Make sure you get enough rest, Ell."

  "You should talk," she said. "Don't think I missed the fact that you were limping. Get some ice on that knee."

  Knee? Which knee? Lucas had a problem with his knee?

  "She has eyes like a hawk," Steve said, pushing some hair behind Ellen's ear. "But he's right, baby. You should get your feet up."

  Not just one, but two men, basking in Ellen's pregnant glow.

  Bryce and Paulie were still in a tete-a-tete. The Hollands had left; most people had, and she didn't want to stand around like a lump, watching Lucas kiss Ellen on the cheek (but bugger and damn, she did catch that out of the corner of her eye). She went to the back of the room and texted Savannah. How's everything? I'm at a wake. What are you doing?

  A few seconds later, she had her answer. Mom & I r doing pedis. Fun!!!

  That was nice. Mother-daughter time. Great! she texted back. Have fun, sweets! Tell your mom I said hi.

  Oddly enough, she and Gail were becoming...well, not friends. Allies, maybe. They'd had a glass of wine the other night at O'Rourke's, the first time Gail had come in alone. Gail had asked for her opinion on letting Savannah do the travel league for baseball in the fall (which Colleen had been all for).

  They hadn't talked about Dad. If Gail suspected he was dating his ex-wife, she didn't say anything, and Colleen appreciated it.

  "Mia."

  Colleen jumped. "Spaniard. How are you holding up?"

  "Good. Things seem to be winding down here." He picked up her hand and kissed it. Twice.

  He looked so amazing in his suit, a dark gray with a white shirt and dark red tie. He needed to shave. Colleen reminded herself to stop lusting in a funeral home, but he made it hard, that gorgeous mouth, those tragic eyes, so dark and deep...and maybe, there was a little glow of happiness in there, too. Maybe, just maybe, she had something to do with that.

  "Hey, you two," said Bryce, approaching with Paulie.

  "Paulie," Lucas said. "Nice to see you again."

  "You, too," she said, punching him on the shoulder.

  He punched her back, lightly, then took Colleen's hand.

  Bryce smiled. "So you guys are really together again, huh? Good. I'm so glad Coll and me hooking up didn't bother you, bro."

  Colleen's heart stopped. Literally. She felt the blood drain to her feet, then flood back up as her pulse shot into the danger zone.

  She didn't dare move.

  No one else did, either, except Bryce, who waved to someone.

  "Excuse me?" Lucas said very, very quietly.

  "What? Oh, Colleen and me," Bryce answered, and oh, sphincter damn and blast, Colleen's legs turned to water.

  "What do you mean, you and Colleen?" Paulie asked, her brows coming together.

  Realization dawned on Bryce's perfect face. "Oh. Uh...um...nothing?"

  Colleen looked at Lucas, then immediately wished she hadn't.

  This was very bad. Very, very bad.

  "Did you guys...date?" Paulie asked.

  "Well, I wouldn't, uh, call it dating," Bryce said.

  "This isn't really the time," Colleen began, her voice tight and strange.

  "No, no," Lucas said. "What would you call it, Bryce?"

  "Uh, um, I mean, we slept together, but--"

  More silence, and then Paulie barked, "Are you kidding me?"

  Lucas was granite-still.

  "This definitely isn't the time," Colleen whispered.

  Paulie's mouth was open. "You slept with Bryce, Colleen?"

  And the thing was, Paulie's inside voice was more of an outside voice, and Didi and the minister and Mr. and Mrs. Forbes froze, and the song on the speakers was "Yellow Ledbetter" by Pearl Jam, for some reason, and who knew what that song was about, anyway? Sounded like the guy was speaking in tongues.

  Focus, Colleen. "Um...I..." Colleen couldn't seem to get her mouth to work.

  What could she say, after all?

  "This is--you know what?" Paulie said. "This is not my problem. Bryce, sorry about your dad. Lucas, see you around." With that, she left.

  Colleen swallowed. "Um..."

  Lucas was glaring at Bryce, who gave her a panicky glance, then looked back at his cousin. "Lucas, bud, uh, remember the time I saved you?"

  Then Lucas looked at her, and man, Colleen wished he hadn't, because those black eyes were burning into her, and so not in a good way. "Let's talk about this in private," she whispered.

  "No need," he said. He stood there a horribly long second, then turned and he walked out, dragging her heart behind him.

  "I have a bad feeling about this," Bryce said.

  She turned to him. "Bryce..."

  "Shit, Coll, I'm sorry. I mean, I just...my dad and stuff, I guess I was feeling sentimental."

  "It was one time, and we both agreed never to mention it again! And come on! It wasn't exactly meaningful."

  "Ouch," he said.

  She realized they were at his dad's wake, after all, and put her hand on his arm. "Sorry."

  Bryce gave a half smile. "No, no, you're right. It wasn't. I real
ly am sorry."

  She took a deep breath, which did nothing to slow her heart rate. "Well, it's done. I should go. Hang in there, Bryce. I'll see you at the funeral."

  "Thanks," he said. "Sorry again, Coll."

  And she knew he was. Bryce was a gentle idiot.

  But not as much of an idiot as she was.

  *

  SIX YEARS AGO, for no good reason, Colleen typed Lucas Campbell, Chicago into Google.

  She couldn't help it. Every once in a while, she did it. He didn't have a Facebook page, or Twitter, like a normal person. But he was married to the daughter of one of Chicago's most prominent citizens, and there was mention of him once in a while.

  She'd seen their wedding write-up in the Chicago newspaper online. The bride was attended by her closest friend from Miss Porter's School, the article said, as well as the groom's sister and eldest niece. His twin nieces served as flower girls. The groom's best man was his cousin, Bryce Campbell. The reception was held at The Drake, where guests were treated to music by the Moonlight Jazz Orchestra. The renowned Sylvia Weinstock designed the cake. The bride's dress was custom-made by Isaac Mizrahi, a family friend. The couple had met in college. Lucas Campbell was a proud son of the South Side and worked for Forbes Properties in construction--so much for law school, Colleen had thought, and why bother when you could marry into one of Chicago's wealthiest families?

  But it didn't seem right. It didn't seem like him.

  Then again, she didn't really know him as well as she'd thought.

  After that, she vowed not to look ever again. Bryce was living out of town at the time, and Joe was kind enough not to mention Lucas when he came into the bar. If she didn't want to hear about Lucas, she didn't have to.

  Her iron resolve lasted about eight months, until her birthday when she drank an entire bottle of Blue Heron Chardonnay by herself, and looked up baby announcements on Google.

  Nothing.

  She looked again every few months after that, because for some masochistic reason, she wanted to know if Lucas had become a father. She didn't want to be slammed with that news when she was working at the bar, because she knew she wouldn't be able to hide how she felt.

  But there were no baby announcements. Not for two years, and Colleen finally stopped looking.

  But she couldn't help thinking about him. She and Faith discussed many times the unfair power of first love. After every guy who turned out to be less than Lucas, after every wine and roses festival that marked another year of not being with Lucas, Colleen missed him so much it felt as if her soul ached.

 

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