"Please, just stay away from him, Ali." Jason pleads.
I am quite shocked and clueless. I agree with Jason so that he will calm down.
"Okay," I reply, looking at him.
Jason turns up the music, and we ride the rest of the way to his parent's house in silence. I cannot get out of my head that Luke must not be that bad if my dad was willing to help him. He even made him the head mechanic at his shop. Did that piss Jason off too? There could be more to this than what Jason is saying. I know my dad would never be this kind to anyone without good reason.
We pull into Jason's parents, and my phone rings.
"I will come in right after I take this," I say to Jason as he hops out of his truck and heads into the house.
"Hello."
"Good Morning, sweetie," my aunt says joyfully.
"Good Morning," I mutter.
"Tomorrow, we are meeting with your daddy's team of lawyers to go over his will. We can postpone until next week if you aren't ready," she exclaims.
I run my hand across my forehead because I know I'm not ready. I don't think I will ever be prepared to hear who gets whatever is left of my dad's shit. I need to get back to work, and next week will be too long to be away from my job.
"Tomorrow is fine," I reply with a sigh.
"See you tomorrow then, sweetie. Make sure to dress in your Sunday best! Hugs and kisses," she says, making smooching sounds before hanging up.
I look up from my phone to see Ernie and Jason on the deck. They are standing with their shirts tucked under their chins and pinching their nipples while they're sticking out their tongues. Those two dorks have been doing shit like this since I was little, which most definitely lightened the mood. I laugh as I hop out of Jason's truck, shaking my head.
Chapter Seven
I feel very much at home inside Ernie and Gladys' house. I used to come here every Sunday for breakfast and a few of Jason's parties when they'd be out of town. Gladys is Ernie's wife, and she is quite the woman. She doesn't take any shit from anyone, and she's hilarious as hell.
This family is my second family. My dad, Ernie, and Gladys spent almost every day together since I was born. Gladys greets me at the door and gives me a huge hug. She tells me to fix myself a plate before I waste away. On the counter in the kitchen is a buffet-style breakfast, just like how I remember. Eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, hash browns, potatoes, and fruit are displayed in foil pans. There is also a pitcher of orange juice at the end of the counter, surrounded by glasses. I scoop up a little bit of everything and pile it on my plate. I head for the table and take a seat.
"Here, Ali," Gladys says as she hands me a large glass of milk. "You still like milk, right?" she asks with a smile.
"Yes, thank you!"
Aww, she remembered that I don't care for orange juice and was once obsessed with milk. My dad would have to buy me a separate gallon because I drank so much of the stuff. I still do drink it a lot but not in such an obsessive way anymore.
I feel I need to discuss the lawyer meeting that my aunt called me about with everyone at the table. I am not sure if this will be bad timing because we have just sat down for breakfast. I do not want to ruin the meal, but I must mention it since it is fresh on my mind.
"My aunt called and said we are meeting with the lawyers tomorrow at one. We need to go over my dad's Will," I spurt out.
Everyone goes quiet and stares straight in my direction. You could hear a pin drop if it weren't for the faint sound of music coming from the kitchen. Gladys looks at me with the most loving eyes. I always loved it whenever she did that. Ernie breaks away from his stare to focus back on his plate before bringing a spoon full of eggs to his mouth.
"We will be there with you tomorrow, Ali," Gladys says as she squeezes my hand.
I give her a light smile, then bring my attention back to my plate.
"Guess who brought Ali home last night?" Jason belts out like a colossal dick.
I kick him from under the table. Now, this is what I call bad timing. Jason is being a prick. Whatever his issues with Luke are, this is not the time for it.
"Luke brought her home. He even drove the mustang."
Ernie looks up at me from his breakfast with the most God awful look on his face. I melt in his expression; I feel like my dad is scolding me. Is he disappointed in me for drinking last night? Having Luke bring me home or that I let him drive my car?
Jason goes off on a tangent about how much he despises Luke. Ernie, without saying a word, stands up from the table. He walks into the kitchen, slamming his plate on the counter, then walks out the door. I give Jason a slight glare to indicate, "why the hell did you say that" then look over to Gladys. Gladys is staring at Jason. He gets up, slamming his chair against the table before stomping out the door. Like father, like son. I can hear Jason as he peels out of the driveway.
What in the sam hell just happened?
"I will give you a ride back to your dad's, Ali. Please finish your breakfast before it gets cold," she says as she starts to clear the table.
I promptly finish my breakfast and help Gladys clean up in the kitchen. I know my way around this kitchen just as well as I do around my dad's. I walk around the house looking at all the pictures. I see a few of Jason and me when we were younger. There are also pictures of my dad and Ernie. I need to consider that I am not the only one who lost my dad that day.
ON THE WAY BACK TO my dad's, Gladys tells me how Luke came along. She said he was passing through one day and had engine trouble with his bike. My dad and Ernie helped him work on it, and in return, Luke helped at the shop to repay them for the parts they bought for his bike. She went on to say that Luke is very reserved, and he does not say much, but he took a liking to my dad almost instantly. He came from California to get away from a life he wasn't proud of.
What kind of life was that? Jason did say he wasn't a good guy.
Gladys continues to say that she would've never known any of this if Luke hadn't confided in my dad. She went on to say that my dad let him stay at his house until his bike was fixed, but he ended up staying longer. That was almost two years ago now.
My dad never told me about Luke, not even once, since we spoke pretty much every day on the phone. He never even mentioned it when I'd come home occasionally, either. Is Luke that bad that my dad had to hide him from me? All of this isn't very clear, and I hope I will learn the truth soon.
Gladys mentions details of the story that I already knew about between Jason and Luke. She talks about how they got in a huge fight causing my dad and Ernie to break it up. The battle was mainly over that floozy Bridget, Gladys says, but partly because my dad made him his head mechanic. She went on to say that Ernie was not upset about it as they collectively decided to give Luke the position. He did show up to work more than Jason and would work whenever they needed him to, even if it was seven days a week.
Gladys said that they didn't kick him out of Jason's house because technically they own the property. My dad helped ease the tension by building Luke, a living area behind the pole barn. Jason never used it anyway, and it's also where my dad stored some of his stuff he wasn't currently working on at home or the shop.
Chapter Eight
I give Gladys a tight squeeze before getting out of her car. I was glad she did not react like Ernie and Jason. I felt relaxed with her in the car as well as on the drive home.
"Would you like us to pick you up before we head over to the lawyer's tomorrow?" she asks.
"Yes, that would be great! Thank you!" I reply.
We say our goodbyes, and I head into my father's house. I set my purse on the chair in the entryway and head for the living room. I sit down on the couch and flick on the TV. While flipping through the channels for something good to watch, I fall asleep.
I'm walking into the barn to bring my dad a plate of fresh-baked cookies and a glass of milk. He is bent over under the hood of his 1967 Ford Ranchero. He is talking to someone, and as I get closer, I can see who it is. I
t's Luke. They are working together on my father's engine.
"Dad, I brought you some milk and cookies!" I say excitedly. He doesn't reply and continues working and talking to Luke.
"What are you doing here?" Luke asks.
I open my eyes and sit up frantically. I look around to see that it's dark out now and that I was merely dreaming, again. Why am I dreaming about my dad and Luke? Why won't my dad look at me in them? I need to find out why Luke has my dad's Ranchero. These are all burning questions that I want answers to. I know I shouldn't be taking these dreams to heart because they're just that, dreams. Regardless, this one did shake me just like my previous dream; my father would not talk to me in that one either. He ignored me. I wonder if this is some sort of sign.
I check the time on my phone, and it's 8 p.m. Wow, I must have slept the day away. I have a few text messages to go over and reply to. I respond to Ris and Troy right away before setting my alarm for tomorrow. I'm not ready to meet with my dad's lawyers, but I don't have much choice, since I have already agreed to meet them. I read over Jason's text again before replying.
I'm sorry for what happened at breakfast. I don't like that guy. I didn't mean to upset you and my dad. Can you stay longer and come to the cabin with us next weekend? Please.
I don't know if I plan to stay through the weekend. I may leave back to the city after meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. I need to get back to work.
It's okay. I will think about it. Nite.
MY ALARM GOES OFF, AND I instantly remember that today is the day my father's death gets real. Today, we will be sitting down in front of his lawyers while they read off a piece of paper; what parts of my dad's life will go to who. I do not know how people can be excited about this sort of thing. I would rather have my dad back instead of his property.
I know when there is money or expensive collections involved, people become greedy, and that becomes their primary focus. It is no longer the death of their loved one. My feelings have not changed. I would give up all my dad's assets to have him back, even if it were only for a day. I want him here with me. To talk with me like he used to, unlike the dreams I am having where he won't even look in my direction.
I sit up from the couch and stretch my arms in the air. The reading of my father's Will today is making me sick to my stomach. Can I skip this part? I'm hungry, but I don't think I can manage to eat; I feel like throwing up. Why does this have to be done so soon after his death? Can't we wait a while, like forever? Everything is happening so fast that my heart's skipping a beat. I do not know how to handle this situation.
I head to the bathroom to take a shower. The hot water feels terrific against my neck and back, but I'm frozen in place while staring off into space. I'm numb from the feeling of what I have to go through today. I want to cry, but I can't. I want to crawl into my bed and not do today at all.
When am I going to grieve over the death of my father? Am I grieving? I've cried a few times, but I feel like I haven't grieved as I should. I know everyone grieves differently, but I thought I would take this way worse than I am. My father was my world. I should be more miserable then I am. I'm overthinking everything. I need to relax and take it easy.
I step out of the shower, soaking wet. I stare at myself in the mirror. Who are you? How are you not crying over your father? You're selfish. Am I?
I start to shiver but stay standing here, staring at myself. I give myself a blank stare as if I've turned into a zombie. I finally snap out of it and wrap myself in a towel then head to my room. I sit down on the edge of my bed and sob hard into the palms of my hands. I need to cry; I need to let my emotions out. It's necessary. I miss my dad so much. Why was he taken from me?
I cannot do today; I'm not ready for any of this.
I collect myself a bit and lift my suitcase off my floor before hurling it on my bed. I grab a pair of my seamless panties and a nude bra. I slip them on and sit on the edge of my bed again, staring at the floor, dragging my toes back and forth over the carpet. You can do this; you need to do this for him. You can do this; it's now or never. I prefer never.
I dig through the clothes I brought. I pull out a white button-up blouse, navy blue pencil skirt, and nude heels. My dad loved blue, especially dark blue, though he hated it when I dressed up as a businesswoman. He preferred when I was full of grease and anti-seize.
I head back to the bathroom before getting dressed, to do my hair, and some light makes up. I need to cover up these dark circles under my eyes from crying and lack of sleep. However, I have slept surprisingly well and quite a lot, despite a few odd dreams, since I've been home. If my dad was here, it would be early to rise, not waste the day or the sunlight, he'd say. He wanted to make use of his entire day to maximize his productivity. He was a consummate professional or overly motivated.
I straighten my hair and push it back in a low ponytail, apply some concealer under my puffy eyes, and brush on some mascara. I head back to my room and get dressed. I do not check myself in the mirror before heading downstairs. I drift off back into a numb state as I cannot recall much of myself walking down the stairs and into the kitchen. I do not feel like myself at all, but I need to get hold of myself.
I come back to when I realize I'm standing in front of the fridge, and the cold air hits my face. I grab an apple and milk and pour myself a glass. I sit down at the dining room table and stare out the window. The dream comes flooding back, the one I had a few days ago about how my father was standing here and staring out of the same window. This dream keeps playing over and over in my head.
A knock at the door releases me from my thoughts. I head over to open the door. Jason stands before me in khakis and a black button-up shirt, with his hair combed perfectly. He looks so handsome. Jason knows how to carry himself. He is a ladies' man, and despite the fact I do not have any feelings for him other than brotherly, he always impresses me with his dress sense. He usually dresses like a country boy, but he loves to dress to impress when the time comes.
I smile at him and wrap my arms around his chest. He holds me tightly in silence while resting his cheek on top of my head. We embrace for what seems like five long minutes before we part.
"Are you ready?" Jason asks.
"As ready I can be, I guess," I reply, trying not to cry.
I have cried enough already, and now it is time for me to take care of business. Business that I quite frankly do not wish to be part of, but I must be. I grab my purse, and we head out the door. Jason rests his hand on the small of my back as we walk towards his parent's car.
"You look beautiful today!" he says.
I turn to him and thank him with a slight smile.
"I still prefer you in those shorts, the ones your ass hangs out of, but this, this outfit is sexy." Jason laughs.
I give him a good smack and laugh, calling him a perv.
Chapter Nine
The drive is quiet yet peaceful as we make our way to the lawyer's office in another town. I lose myself in the beautiful summer scenery as I drift off daydreaming about—Luke! Why do I think about him so much? My mind becomes consumed by him, and I flashback to seeing his shirtless body the first time we met, his flawless profile as he sat alone at Mary's, and the look of his face after he held me while I cried on his chest. I wonder if he has soft, firm lips. Is he a good kisser? Woah, what is going on with me? I feel myself becoming more attracted to him the more I think about him.
My mind snaps back to reality as the car comes to a stop.
"We're here," Gladys says as she releases a massive sigh.
Jason grabs hold of my hand and looks at me with a smile before he exits the car. I stay back for a moment to work on my breathing. I see that my aunt and uncle are already here. We walk inside, and my aunt walks over to me. She hugs me, then turns to hug Gladys and Ernie. My uncle gives me an awkward side hug before he shakes Ernie and Jason's hands then gives Gladys a peck on the cheek. We all take a seat in the waiting room. I can tell everyone is quite uncomfortable, and no
one wants to be here, but we all need to be. I'm glad I am not alone today.
The door opens as Luke walks through. He looks disheveled. His black button-up shirt is unbuttoned, revealing a white t-shirt, and is untucked from his gray slacks; his hair is scattered all over his head. Ernie stands up and heads over to shake his hand. Luke stops buttoning up his shirt to shake Ernie's hand then my uncle's.
He asks the receptionist where the restroom is before excusing himself. I want to know why he is here, but for some reason seeing him just now and knowing that he is here sets me somewhat at ease.
"Why is he here?" Jason asks bitterly.
"Not now, Jason," Gladys mumbles.
I can cut the tension building in the air with a knife since Luke walked through the door. I grab hold of Jason's hand, and he puts his arm around me. I lean into him and close my eyes as we wait for my father's lawyers to call us into their office.
Luke walks back out from the bathroom, his shirt buttoned except for the top one, and neatly tucked into his pants. His hair is laying perfect across his head.
He sits by himself over by the window and takes his phone out of his pocket. I cannot help but stare at him. He looks insanely handsome the way he's dressed. Not that he doesn't look just as good in jeans and a t-shirt or just work pants, but right now, he looks perfect. I find myself looking him over from head to toe.
Even his shoes are perfect; they are black cap toe dress boots. Until now, all I've seen him wear are his dirty old work boots. His outfit is so debonair and sophisticated. I bring my eyes further up his body, studying every inch of him. He has long fingers; they are masculine, not too skinny but not sausage-like either. His broad shoulders are so sexy, and his jawline is defined.
HIM Page 4