Blue-Collar Billionaires: The Complete Series, page 85
My sister is right. I know exactly what he needs.
* * *
I open the door and allow Tank to come in. A few minutes later Gabe and Zack arrive together. They all take seats on the couch. I glance behind me to make sure that Luke isn’t out of the shower yet.
“We’re just waiting on—”
Finn pokes his head through the door. “Am I late?”
I usher him inside and to the chair I pulled from the kitchen. “Right on time. He’ll be out in a second.”
Sure enough, a few minutes later Luke emerges wearing a pair of jeans unsnapped at the waist. His hair is still wet, the thick curls gleaming in the light.
“When did you guys get here?” He manages an appropriate amount of interest when he asks the question. Someone who didn’t know him well might not be able to tell that anything is wrong but I can hear the trepidation in his voice.
He glances over at me warily.
“I asked them to come. So I can tell them the truth.”
“Seven—”
“It’s my fault. And you’ve been self-destructing this past month with guilt.” He closes his eyes. “You’ve been trying to hide it but it’s so obvious. I know you blame me.”
“I don’t blame you. I blame myself. Never you.”
Tank turns to me. “You mentioned over the phone that Luke gave information to the authorities about Max?”
“Yeah, but he only did it to save me. They were threatening to arrest me if I didn’t help them get information from Luke. So he gave them some information he thought wouldn’t implicate Max directly but I guess it did somehow. We never thought this would happen.”
“Of course you didn’t. Why would you?” Tank replies. His eyes shift over to Luke. “Do you know what my most vivid memory is of Max? It’s watching the lights on his car as he drove away when he left us. I can still hear my mom crying.”
Luke sits on the edge of the couch but doesn’t say anything.
Tank looks over at Finn. “Do you even remember that?”
Finn shakes his head. “I have no conscious memories from that age. And when we met again, I didn’t care about getting to know him at all. I just figured if some old guy wanted to give out money, why not let him?”
Luke looks up in shock.
“What? You thought you were the only one with a fucked up relationship with our mafia pops?” Gabe chuckles. “I stole his assistant’s security card so I could snoop around his hotel suite.”
“Yeah, you showed me the pictures you took.” Luke smiles. “I had forgotten that.”
Gabe holds his ribs. “I haven’t forgotten any of that. I still can’t twist my torso without feeling it where that crazy bastard knifed me.”
“Your father stabbed you?” I blurt, forgetting that I’m supposed to be an impartial observer.
Zack chuckles at my outburst. “No, that would be our mafia hitman cousin, Blade. Apparently Max helped raise him though, so I’m not sure that’s much better.”
Luke crosses his arm. “So the point is that we’ve all had some pretty insane interactions with Max.”
Zack pats him on the shoulder. “I told him everything he did wrong. I accused him of being selfish, irresponsible and fucking up all our lives. He let me, too. Our relationship wasn’t puppies and rainbows. It was ninety-nine percent me yelling at him for being a shitty father.”
They fall quiet. Finally Luke sighs. “You guys didn’t have to come over here just to make me feel better.”
Tank stands. “We didn’t come over here to make you feel better. We’re here to tell you that we feel responsible, too. But it’s something we’ve had to come to terms with. Did you ever get a chance to talk to him, one on one?”
Luke nods thoughtfully. “The day I warned him about what was coming, we had lunch together. He was so different from what I was expecting. In my head I’d built him up to be this monster but in the end, he was just a man.”
“Max would have been the first to admit that he wasn’t a great person for most of his life. He wasn’t arrested unjustly. It’s probably a miracle he evaded authorities as long as he did. It wasn’t your fault, Luke. You just accelerated the inevitable.”
Tank pulls him into a hug and I hang back watching them. Soon conversation turns to other things and slowly, Luke starts to sound more like himself.
After an hour, Tank looks at his watch and then stands. “I’d better go. If I don’t come home with the right flavor of ice cream, Em is going to kill me. Oh by the way, you’re all going to be uncles soon.”
There’s a chorus of cheers and what looks like a lot of pushing and shoving but at the end they’re all grinning so I assume this is part of how they bond. They all file out and I wave to them one by one. Finally only Tank is left.
“We were getting worried about you, kid.”
Luke crosses his arms. “I know. Thank you for this. Seriously, I needed to hear some of that. I’ll probably always feel guilty for how things went down but it helps to put things in perspective. He was a terrible father in so many ways but at the end he was making an effort to redeem himself. I’ll have to come to terms with that in my own time so I can move on and forgive him.”
Tank claps him on the shoulder. “Maybe then you can finally forgive yourself.”
Chapter Nineteen
Luke
Voices and music carry over the warm afternoon air from the backyard of my mom’s house. It’s the end of the summer and this will probably be the last cookout of the season.
I sit on the front steps and sigh as I’m finally alone. My family has been worried about me and I know I’ve given them reason but it’s almost as exhausting to have them all hovering. Thank God for Seven.
Just the thought of my girl brings a smile to my face.
Her love and patience have been a balm to my ragged soul. As the days pass and I love her deeper still, I can feel the wounds in my heart starting to heal.
She has moved in completely and my living room has become her office. My apartment never seemed small before but now that we’re both living and working from the same space, it suddenly feels microscopic. My brothers know more about real estate than I do so they’ve been keeping an eye out for property we might want to buy. Just a few months ago the idea of buying land and living with someone would have freaked me out but now I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Seven’s laughter carries over the sound of the music. I was worried that after years alone that she’d think it was weird to spend so much time with my mom or resent having to entertain my grandpop and my overly friendly uncles. But she fit right in from the very first time she met everyone. I think they get along better with her sometimes than with me!
A delivery truck pulls up to the curb and the driver jumps out. Whistling, he makes his way up the driveway, a parcel in his hand.
“Luke Marshall?” he asks.
I stand. “That’s me.”
He holds out his clipboard for me to sign and then once I’m done, hands me the large padded envelope. “Have a great day!”
I don’t respond, my mind already on the contents of the envelope. Not just on the contents but on the fact that it was delivered here. I haven’t gotten mail at my mom’s place in ages. I don’t recognize the sender but when I rip it open, I immediately recognize the distinctive blue paper inside. With trembling hands, I unfold the letter. It’s dated over a month ago.
Dear Luke,
Writing this letter is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I feel that in death a man should be able to set things right. Though nothing can ever atone for the things I’ve done, I want to try. I’ll start with an apology.
I am truly sorry for all the pain I’ve caused.
Your mother is a beautiful, strong, spirited woman and I loved her even though I had no right to. She has raised you to be a man of integrity and honor. Because of this I know that you will be looking back on our last interaction with sadness or even guilt. But any guilt you have, I ask now that you let it go.
My son, things happen the way they are meant to. I could never be angry with you for anything. I’ve watched you grow from afar these many years and I hope one day, perhaps when you have children of your own, that you can understand a fraction of how much I’ve loved you. Or that you’ll at least be able to look back and remember me without anger.
So many emotions bounce around inside of me as I read my father’s final words. Guilt, sadness, shame, weakness. I’ve been eaten up by guilt and self-recrimination but I see now that Max wouldn’t have wanted that. He had his faults but he wanted me to be happy. My heart lighter, I pick up reading where I left off.
What I wish most is for you to go forward with the knowledge that I am at peace. That’s all a man can ask for in this life though I do have one final request.
Live. Live well. For life only happens once.
And now I leave you my son with a bit of Irish wisdom.
Go bhfana í ngrá linn,
Iad siúd atá í ngrá linn.
Iad siúd nach bhfuil,
Go gcasa Dia a gcroíthe.
Agus muna gcasann Sé a gcroíthe
Go gcasa Sé caol na coise acu
Go n-aithneoimid iad as a mbacadaíl.
May those who love us,
Love us.
And those who do not love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May He turn their ankles,
So we'll know them by their limping.
With love,
Maxwell Marshall
While I was on the verge of embarrassing myself by crying right here in the open when I read the last stanza, I burst into laughter. The sound rolls through me, erasing weeks of guilt and doubt.
“You always have to get the last word, don’t you?” I look up to the sky as I ask the question. Who knows, maybe he can hear me.
It’s too late for us to have a relationship but it’s not too late for me to heed his advice. That’s the ultimate way to honor my father’s legacy. Despite his faults, he sacrificed quite a bit so that we could live free from the burdens of his past. To give us a life that was our own.
The least I can do is live that life to the fullest.
“What are you doing sitting out here, sweetie? You’d better get back in there before your Uncle Eddie eats all of that apple pie.”
My mom comes out of the front door and then lowers herself to the step beside me.
Without a word, I hand her the letter. She reads it silently, stopping halfway through to wipe away tears. She folds it carefully and hands it back.
“He was always a good man underneath. Troubled but a good man. I’m glad I wasn’t wrong about that.”
I turn to look at her. When I was too young to know better, I used to ask about my father all the time. But once I was old enough to understand I avoided any mention of him, wanting to spare her embarrassment or pain. But now with a little distance, I wonder if that was a mistake. Maybe I would have understood him better, and her better, too if I’d asked a few more questions. Or at least tried to understand what drew them together in the first place instead of just casting Max as a villain without a care.
“How did you do it, Mom? Over the years, you never made me feel like I was a burden even though I know it had to have been hard. I was a constant reminder of him.”
She puts her arm around my shoulders. “It was hard but it was never a burden. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re not a reminder of your father. You’re a gift.”
“I can only hope to be half the parent you were one day. But you set the bar awfully high.”
She smiles, delighted. “Oh sweetheart. I can’t wait for that day either. Speaking of babies …”
“Here we go.” I chuckle at my own stupidity for even giving her the opening. She’s been hinting rather heavily lately that I should make sure Seven knows how much I respect her and that I don’t just want to live in sin as she calls it. I didn’t want to tell her that Sev and I are both quite enjoying living in sin. And sinning as often as we can.
“That sweet girl is mighty worried about you. I am, too.”
I hold up the letter. “I’m going to be fine now but I guess I should get back inside so she can see that. She’s been amazing through all of this.”
“She loves you.”
“I love her, too. I just wish I could do something for her. To show her how I feel.”
Mom pats my shoulder as she stands up. “You’ll think of something. Now come on because I’m not making another one of those pies!”
* * *
Before I go back in the house, I stash my father’s letter in my back pocket. My uncles and cousins tend to be pretty nosy and I’m not ready for anyone else to read those words yet. Except for my girl, that is.
I find Seven in the kitchen standing guard over the last slice of pie. She’s holding a fork out like a weapon. My uncle Eddie stands on the other side of the counter eyeing it like he’s looking for a weak spot in her defense.
“Stand back. I have no problem fighting an old man,” she threatens.
He laughs. “Come on. If he hasn’t come back by now, he isn’t coming. I won’t tell him.”
“Uncle Eddie, are you trying to steal my girl?”
He makes a disgruntled face when I reach over and grab the plate. He winks at Seven. “I was trying to steal the pie but the girl is a close second. You’re lucky she saved it for you. You’ve got a good one here, Luke.”
My eyes meet hers. “Yeah, I know.”
Uncle Eddie satisfies himself with several chocolate chip cookies and then shuffles out. Finally we’re alone.
“Do you feel better? It was kind of loud earlier, huh?”
I swallow a forkful of pie. She really is a good one. Plenty of girls would be pissed if their boyfriend left them to fend for themselves at a family event but Sev gets it when I need a moment of solitude. There are no questions or accusations. Just understanding.
I pull my father’s letter from my back pocket. “While I was out there, this arrived.”
Her mouth falls open slightly as she reads. When she’s done, she folds it carefully and hands it back. “Wow. Are you okay after reading that?”
“Actually … yeah. Max was at peace and that’s all I can ask for. I’ll always wish that I could have spent a little more time with him though.”
The thought brings to mind the perfect gift for Seven. The one thing she’s always wanted. Her sister.
I walk around the counter and hug her from behind.
“You know, I didn’t give the FBI everything.”
She tenses against me. “Luke—”
“No, just hear me out. Now that Max is gone, I’m not worried about holding anything back. If we bargain right, we could probably get custody of your sister. Dealing with Agent Walker will be a pain but we can do it. I know how much that means to you. I want you to have everything you need to be happy.”
She turns in my arms and kisses me gently. “I do have everything I need. Right here.”
“But what about Grace?”
“She told me she’s happy where she is. And I’m finally happy, too.”
Even though she seems sincere, I worry that she’s brushing aside things that matter to her to be with me.
“You don’t have to pretend that you’re not disappointed. I know how much the custody petition meant to you. Maybe if we get married it’ll give your petition more weight. I’m a billionaire and money speaks. We don’t have to just let this go.”
She covers my mouth with her hand. “Don’t call the cavalry yet. Grace is fine. She told me she’s happy where she is. The family she’s fostering with wants to adopt her and I think it’s for the best.”
Slightly mollified, I nip at the back of her hand. “If you’re sure. Well, maybe I’ll buy a helicopter so you can visit her whenever you want. I’m a billionaire after all.”
She laughs. “You’re a billionaire, huh? I didn’t catch that.”
We laugh together, mocking the media firestorm that has turned our lives upside down. My father’s dramatic death in police custody brought an insane amount of attention to our family. Social media in particular went crazy with the discovery of five young billionaires. Gabe has become especially popular. There’s a Twitter account devoted just to his hair.
I’ve started texting the memes to him every day just because it annoys him so much.
“Sev?”
“Hmm?”
“I wanted to say thank you. For loving me. Sticking with me this past month and giving me the space I needed to work things out in my own head. I know that couldn’t have been easy but you were always there when I needed you.”
“And I always will be.”
“I’m so glad I didn’t listen to my mom when I was a kid.”
“What do you mean?” She crinkles her nose at the seemingly sudden change of topic.
“She always told me not to talk to strangers online.”
I kiss her until she throws her arms around my neck and we’re both gasping for breath. When she finally opens her eyes, her expression is dreamy. I hope to keep that look on her face for the rest of her life.
Chapter Twenty
Seven
One year later …
I pick up a piece of bubble wrap and carefully pack it around a coffee mug. We’re going to be moving into our new house this weekend.
I look around the apartment which is in varying stages of being dismantled. There are white squares on the wall where Luke took down pictures and the living room floor is covered in boxes and that fluffy white packing material that looks like popcorn.
It’s going to be so weird not to wake up here anymore. This apartment has been the place our love has grown. Where I finally stopped worrying this won’t work out or that Luke will get bored and find someone better.
It’s home in a way nowhere else has ever been.
