The Blue Iris, page 16
He knows then he has to go directly to his room, wait for the exploding inside his chest to peter out, then call her. Pull her from lavender sleep and let her pillow voice drown the one crying with pleasure down at the water. Let her assure him, there’s no better man.
His steps are slow but deliberate down the hallway, some faceless, nameless other stalking after him. Still taunted by Nightmare Tessa’s transgressions, his mouth a cracked sheet of cotton from thirsting after the real one, the swish-swish of long hair behind him becomes an affirmation.
You’re William Fucking Westlake.
You’re William Fucking Westlake.
He flops onto the bed, sloppily ordering the ceiling to right itself. It hits him with agony that he isn’t so different from Teddy after all. Will, too, is hooked on being in first place, on being at the front of every pack, the same way his brother itches after coke.
The door closes behind him, Portia’s bony fingers winking over the lock like the cool leather of a Town Car. The room spinning, his ego the only driving notion, he lets himself be shuttled home. Back to where he started, and where he belongs.
Back on top.
Southern Magnolia / Magnolia Grandiflora
Ensures faithfulness when placed under the bed.
TESSA
Luke swirled the dishcloth across the cutting board. “Are we going to talk about it?”
Tessa stopped mid-scrub, a hot lump rising in her throat. “Huh?”
“Why you’re so afraid to take a day off lately.”
Oh. That. Tessa placed the saucepan on the drying rack, considering. The job consumed her waking hours, the outdoors and hard labor exhausting her in uncomplicated measure. At night, her body surrendered to sleep before her mind could object. She nodded towards the back window. “It’s those plants. Somehow, they quiet all the noise.”
Luke laughed. “I think that’s why we all stay. But all those fancy degrees, a soul mate who’s rolling in cash. Don’t mind me saying, but your life doesn’t seem noisy.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Luke hung the cloth over the tap and leaned against the counter, arms folded. “Break it down for me, then.”
Tessa hesitated. Hadn’t he done enough tonight, without listening to her whine about her problems?
“Come on, Tess. Talk to me.”
Before she knew it, all her uncertainties went plunking into the suds. What if she didn’t find her big, a career that would hold up next to Will’s? What if she did, and hated it? How much longer could she dither selfishly, grandparents strained by a property they could no longer handle, Will sleeping alone, all because she couldn’t bring herself to pack up the apartment she’d shared with her dead mother and act like a grown up?
Luke nodded, prodding her to continue.
Tessa described how, after losing her mom at age eleven, change of any sort became dismantling. Simple decisions felt heavier than they should, because what if she didn’t get a do-over? She’d tunneled deep into academia, answerable questions becoming her solace, each course syllabus a tidy inkjet map.
But now, at twenty-six, thirty loomed large. Like a speech running too long, it was time to wrap up the student thing, roll next segment. Only, for all the depth and breadth of her transcripts, Tessa didn’t know how to do that part. No textbook unearthed any inkling towards one path over another. Choosing one, without any clear sense of where she might end up, felt impossible. “It’s like hurtling yourself out of a plane and just hoping for the best!”
Luke cocked an eyebrow. “People do that. It’s called skydiving.”
Tessa smiled. “Thanks, jackass. I’m just saying, people get this big thrill out of surrendering to what might go wrong, but for me, everything already did go wrong, and now it’s like I need to know every ending before I can begin. And that’s not going to work anymore.”
Luke’s eyes lifted, but his stubbled chin stayed aimed towards the floor. It was completely gone now, the boarded-up façade that revealed him only in pried-off slats. In his troubled gaze, Tessa saw all the way to his concrete footings.
She tilted her head. “Everything okay?
“What you said, about needing to know the ending first. I’ve been living that for a long time. And you’re right, it doesn’t work.”
The kitchen fell silent.
Luke’s smile glowed off her skin. “For what it’s worth, just the word skydiving makes my gut flip.”
The emotions swelling inside her popped in a spurt of laughter. “I know, right? Who voluntarily signs up for that?”
More laughter. More silence.
“Tess. You know you’ve got this. Apply, interview, decide as you go. If you end up in a job you don’t like, you can always find another one.”
True. Except every co-op placement and internship further amplified Tessa’s fear that no workplace would feel right, in which case, how could she rise to the top of any one of them? Cubicles were padded cages. Meetings rendered her zombie-like. Her computer constantly malfunctioned in ways tech support couldn’t troubleshoot. The communal microwave smell, the constantly brewing inter-office politics, all of it eroded her senses like water torture. Managers praised her results, but the work itself never sparked to life. Failing to reach big was worrisome, but the thought of eking her way there, inert and dispassionate, was paralyzing.
“Moving into the penthouse makes sense,” she said over the swoosh of the drain. “Will’s salary would cover us, and the jobs I’d be applying to are all downtown, anyway. Nano and Pop could cash out, live worry free. Afford care down the road.”
Luke speared cutlery into the drawer. “Then what’s the issue? You’re marrying him anyway, right?”
Tessa could trust Luke with the rest of it. She wanted to. But she respected Will too much to have the conversation with anyone, until she’d finished having it with him. “Right. But if I don’t get my own life figured out first, I’m afraid I never will.”
Life married to Will would be so comfortable. Easy to the extreme. With nothing forcing her into the unknown, the years would tiptoe past like footsteps after curfew. She’d slip into the supporting role of Mrs. Westlake, every win filtered through her husband, just like Eleanor, and Tessa would have her big, but really, it would be Will’s.
Luke’s voice pulled her back. “I thought you said you lived downtown before?”
“I stayed at the penthouse a lot through grad school, but I always had my own apartment behind my grandparents’ place. I’d stay there forever if I could, but Will’s life is downtown now. His dad’s running for mayor, he’s being groomed to take over the firm. He barely sleeps as it is without adding in a commute.”
“You lit up just now, talking about your grandparents’ property. This amazing guy you talk about would do anything to help you hold onto that.”
Luke was right; Will’s empty trust fund was proof. Yet still, Tessa couldn’t make the leap. “He needs me to meet him halfway on this one. I think—” It socked her to say it aloud, never having dreamed such words could be true. But Tessa was the one who had pushed Will to take over the firm. She’d promised to help, stick by his side, whatever it took.
“I think it might be a deal breaker.”
Luke’s eyebrows drew together. “He told you that?”
Tessa traced the pattern on the dishcloth. “Not exactly.”
“Come on, give the guy some credit. It’s not ideal, but it’s not impossible, especially not with his means. Talk to him. He’ll make it work . . . you’ll see.”
“What makes you so sure? You don’t even know him.”
“I know you. And you’re worth it. No chance he can’t see that.”
“I thought I was a pain in the ass,” she teased.
Luke grinned. “You’re definitely that. But he’s lucky to have you.”
Back on the porch, the anxieties that had bubbled up in the kitchen skated from view across the platinum blooms. Tessa sank into the couch. “If you ask me, you’re the lucky one.”
Luke settled into the armchair, curious. “Why’s that?”
Tessa sipped her water. “Because I’ve seen Olivia Thornton in a bikini, and it practically gave me a hard-on. Sorry I ruined your plans, by the way. I didn’t mean—the whole call from the coroner’s office thing. I thought I was helping you out by going.”
“You lost me.”
“Relax. I’m not about to blow your little arrangement with Olivia.”
Luke remained perfectly—annoyingly—chill. “It’s not exactly a secret.”
A flare of indignance shot up. She’d guess that Tony knew, but everyone? “I just spilled my guts to you in there, and you still don’t trust me? What are you worried about? Tony talks about his sexcapades all the time, it’s not like I go around—”
Luke’s burly hand objected. “Wait. You think I’m sleeping with Olivia Thornton?”
Tessa’s cheeks burned. She shouldn’t have gotten so worked up. Now, she’d turned the Luke-Olivia thing into a thing. No wonder he didn’t tell her things! She swallowed. “Um, yeah.”
“You know she’s married, right?”
“I’m not judging, I swear, I—”
“You seriously think I’d be down with that?”
“She summoned you in the middle of a weekday, dressed like a porn star! Clicquot and strawberries by the daybed! What was I supposed to think?”
Laughter simmered in Luke’s chest. His head tipped to the sky, the rich sound boomeranging. He laughed harder, teeth glowing in the darkness, eyes melting to black gold.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“I’m picturing your face!” Luke puckered his lips, wiggling as he howled, performing his best uptight-Tessa expression.
She lobbed a cushion at him. “Okay, fine, if you’re not fucking her, then what?”
When his hysterics abated, he explained that he’d landscaped her backyard. “Technically, I ended up subbing out the labor, but the designs were mine.”
Tessa looked at him, stunned. “That job was yours?”
“I’ve been getting my landscape architecture degree in the off seasons. When the Thorntons moved here in February, local landscapers were already booked. Olivia came around asking Rowan for a referral. He brokered the whole thing.”
“Luke, that backyard was spectacular. Does this mean you’re starting a landscaping business?”
Luke nodded. “One co-op credit left. I was supposed to apprentice with Frank this summer, but with Sam gone, I decided to stick around one more season.”
“Well, I’m glad you stayed.” When Tessa first started at the shop, Luke was the load-bearing wall down the center of her day; how would she have managed without him? “Not as glad as Olivia, obviously.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Olivia Thornton is spoiled and lonely. She kept dragging out the job. When I started saying I was too busy, she’d yell at Rowan for recommending me. He’d cave and send me there during work hours to shut us both up. And yeah, it started to seem like she had more in mind, but then she transferred the final installment a few days ago, and not a word since.”
“My visit spooked her. I met her and her schmoozy husband at the gala the night before.”
Luke pretend scowled. “Thanks, Tess. Now I’ll never get to see that bikini.”
Tessa stuck out her tongue. “So those deliveries were just . . . deliveries?”
“If you actually thought otherwise, you don’t know me at all.”
Tessa felt a smug little flutter, because it was just the opposite. She curled one leg under her. “All right. My turn to ask a question.”
“Fair enough.”
“What’s the deal with your ex?”
Luke’s chin drew inward. “Who told you about my ex?”
“Olivia-on-a-mission would be tough for any single guy to resist. I watch women hit on you every day, I can tell you’re stuck on somebody.”
Luke’s gaze found the floor. “You could say that.”
“You fell pretty hard.”
“You know something? I’m not sure I ever loved her.”
Tessa frowned. “Then how come you miss her so much?”
“I don’t. Not at all.”
Tessa’s hands shot up with impatience. “Okay, Darryl, who do you miss, then?”
Luke let out a long, shaky breath. “My son. I really miss my son.”
Red Bay / Persea Borbonia
“Love’s memory.”
LUKE
He pulled two lowballs and the Jameson from the cupboard, then gripped the edge of the counter. He’d tried backing off the subject, but Tessa sang his own words from earlier straight back at him. “Come on, Luke. Talk to me!” Now, pain in the ass that she was, she was refusing like a five-year-old to go to sleep until she heard the whole story, and he needed something stronger than beer to tell it.
He carried the drinks to the porch and sank resentfully into the couch. Beside him, Tessa spun on a dime, already sipping at her whisky. He looked at her sideways, this same person who wrinkled her nose at beer out back night after night, now taking her Jameson straight. Luke took a generous sip from his own glass, remembering what Dr. Lutchman said. Bottling things up only increases their power. With a deep inhale, he began.
“We were together about a year when she got pregnant. I was just out of college. I met Tony through friends, found out he made more at the shop with overtime than any of the office jobs I was applying for. He put in a word with Rowan, I worked nonstop. By the end of that summer, I had a down payment. Painted the nursery, hung safari animals above the crib. I even did that class where you swaddle a teddy bear.”
“That I would’ve paid to see,” Tessa said.
Luke chuckled. “I was twenty-three. Everything about fatherhood scared the shit out of me.”
“Same. No way I’m having kids.”
Luke shook his head. “That’s because you don’t know. When I held Kyle for the first time . . . I can’t explain it. Done. All in.”
She smiled. “Lucky baby.”
Luke looked away. “Brittney checked out on both of us, ran out every chance she got. Thankfully, Tony hooked me up with some plowing contracts for the winter. I got to be home with Kyle, and when snow hit, I brought him in the truck with me.”
With a clamp tightening around his heart, Luke explained how he’d fallen profoundly in love with his boy. They were two dudes in the trenches, muddling through those first endless weeks. Luke paced the hall every night at sunset, swaying and shushing himself delirious with the baby cradled over his arm, inhaling the scent of Kyle’s head like smelling salts. When Kyle got his first cold, Luke held him in the tub with the hot water running. He figured out O Canada was the only song to get him to sleep, and that he loved mashed banana at dinner but gagged on it at breakfast. Eventually, Luke forgot he’d been anyone but da-da. He no longer recalled how he used to fill his days, or what life without his son felt like.
Tessa held still, cradling her glass in her lap.
Luke lit a cigarette. He’d never divulged so many details before, not even to Charlie, who’d been remarkably supportive for someone without kids.
He took a slow drag and held it. Jutted his jaw as the smoke crawled free. “Then, one random Monday night when Kyle’s ten months old, Brittney walks in and says he isn’t mine.”
In his periphery, Tessa’s mouth stretched into a very large O.
“She was off and on with her ex the whole time.” More whisky. “Kyle’s his.”
A long pause.
“Are you sure?”
Resentment shot from Luke’s nostrils. The first time Kyle smiled for real, Luke’s fingers flew to the dimple on his own chin, so proud he cried. As if a dimple was some unique genetic tag, like every third person on Morrow didn’t have one. “I saw baby pics of her ex. There’s no question. Rowan arranged for a DNA test anyway, and for once, she was telling the truth.”
Tessa’s mouth was still open. “Luke, I . . . that’s awful. What did you do?”
Luke pressed a thumb to the corner of his eye. “I met with the guy a few times. He was all right. Brittney played both of us, but he wanted to try. For Kyle. Who am I to get in the way of that?”
“And the house?”
“I walked away. I didn’t want to uproot the baby, and part of me liked knowing he’d grow up in that room, even if it left me broke as shit. I moved in here, worked from dawn until I dropped. Rowan left groceries on the counter. Sam taught me horticulture. Charlie checked in constantly, Tony kept me laughing. Believe it or not, Darryl convinced me I had a shot at this landscaping thing. And I’m good now, because of them.” He cleared his throat. “But I still feel so stupid, you know? Kyle turned three a few weeks ago, and he has no idea I exist. It was all for nothing.”
Tessa squeezed his elbow. “You can’t look at it that way. You gave him a great start, loved him when his own dad couldn’t. And hey, at least you found out when you did, right? Plus, now you know you want to be a dad someday. Think how prepared you’ll be when the time comes.”
Luke smiled, swirling the ice in his glass. “Now you sound like my mom.”
“You should listen to her. She sounds awesome.” Tessa grinned in her smartass way, but the pity behind it now made Luke’s heart twist like a slipped tendon.
“That she is.” Luke tipped the glass, dropping fire into his throat just in time to torch the words he very nearly blurted next. She’s going to love you.
TONY
Shortly after 2 a.m., Tessa’s car was still in the driveway. Two empty glasses and the old bottle of Jameson sat on the counter. Tony fist-pumped in the dark. You getting this, Sam? Lukey-boy finally went for it!
