Lessons Learned (28 page)

“Breathe, baby.”

Lucas’s arms were around my waist and his chin was on my shoulder as we watched his dad climb out of the rented black SUV. Jonathan Miller walked around to his wife’s door, and I smiled.

“Like father, like son.”

Lucas kissed the side of my neck. It was his way of trying to relax me, but it was impossible. Wasn’t it natural to be nervous? Not that I had any frame of reference, but I imagined meeting the parents for the first time was a big deal. Ryan had never introduced me to his folks, so this was completely new and totally nerve-wracking.

“There you are!” Olivia Miller squealed excitedly from the bottom of the porch. She was dressed in a red blouse and jeans, and her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Smiling at me with her son’s piercing blue eyes, she pulled me out of his arms and straight into hers, enveloping me in a bone-crushing hug.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Miller.”

“Oh, I’m much too young to be called Mrs. Miller,” she said with a bright smile. “I’m Olivia, and it’s wonderful to meet you, too. My goodness, you are lovely.”

“I have to be honest.” Mr. Miller said after he and Lucas shared a hug. “I couldn’t imagine anyone could be as pretty as my son described, but you certainly are.”

My face was on fire. I wasn’t used to so much attention.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

“Jonathan,” he corrected, and I smiled.

Lucas and his mom shared a hug before he ushered us all inside.

“It smells so good in here!” Olivia smiled brightly at me. “Lucas says you’re quite the cook.”

“Lucas is very biased.”

“With good reason,” he said, kissing me on the cheek before helping his dad with the bags. “How was the flight?”

Jonathan complained about the turbulence while I dove headfirst into hostess mode. Everyone settled around the table while I poured lemonade.

“Your house is just beautiful.” Olivia’s eyes ghosted over the room. “It was your grandmother’s?”

“Yes, it was.”

Lucas tugged me by the hand and pulled me onto his lap. I could feel his parents’ eyes on us, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He just held me close and told them all about the renovations we’d made over the summer.

“How many bedrooms?” Jonathan asked, his love for real estate kicking into high gear. I was sure my old house was nothing compared to the million dollar homes they sold in Manhattan.

“It has three. I use one for a guest room and the other is basically a place to keep my books.”

“Three bedrooms are perfect.” Olivia’s eyes were shining and wistful, and I wondered what she was thinking. “And the location is just gorgeous. It’s the perfect place to raise a—”

Jonathan loudly cleared his throat. “What Olivia means to say is you have a beautiful home.”

His wife shot him an annoyed glare while Lucas buried his face in my hair to cover his chuckle. Obviously, I was missing some private joke.

“Thank you. Would you like to look around?”

“Oh, we’d love that!” Olivia said excitedly.

Lucas offered to show them the house while I stayed behind to check on dinner. I had just finished basting the turkey when my cell phone rang. Glancing at the screen, I took a deep breath before answering.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Aubrey.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she replied softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, thanks. I was just checking on dinner while Lucas showed his parents around the house. How are you? Are you with your folks?”

She sighed tiredly. “We decided to just stay home for Thanksgiving. Tommy was out late at the hospital and the police station. We just weren’t in the mood to be sociable today.”

“How are Matt and Patrick?”

“Patrick is resting comfortably for now. They’ll have to do surgery on his jaw, so he has a long road ahead of him.”

His jaw?

“Matt’s home,” she continued. “Tommy paid his bail, so at least he gets to spend Thanksgiving with his family.”

I was stunned. “That was really nice of Tommy—of both of you, actually.”

She grew quiet then. By now, I was sure Tommy had told her about our argument in the principal’s office.

“Tommy didn’t want any of this to happen,” she said softly.

“I know he didn’t.”

More silence, and it finally became so awkward that I faked a baking emergency and wished her a happy Thanksgiving before hanging up.

“Everything was delicious,” Jonathan bragged, placing his fork on his now-empty plate.

“And the stuffing!” Olivia gushed. “I never would have thought to add apples and cranberries.”

Taking my hand, Lucas and I shared a smile.

Thanks, Grandma.

Despite my initial nerves, it had truly turned out to be wonderful day. Lucas’s parents were kind and soft-spoken (although his mother’s voice did tend to raise an octave or two when something excited her, which was often). They obviously adored each other and were quietly affectionate.

It made me smile.

They reminded me so much of my parents.

Lucas leaned close, sliding his hand along the nape of my neck before softly kissing my cheek.

They reminded me so much of us.

Everyone offered to help with the dishes, but I insisted Lucas take his dad into the living room to watch whatever football game they could find.

“I’d like to help,” Olivia said as she carried some plates over to the island. “Besides, they need some quality time together. Jonathan would never admit it, but he’s missed his son.”

I smiled. “I’m sure he has.”

She handed me a bowl. “I’ve never understood the male fascination with football. It’s a very confusing sport. So many positions and rules . . .”

I laughed while opening the dishwasher. “I always preferred basketball. I played in high school.”

“Oh, did you?”

She seemed genuinely interested, so I told her a little about my very short career as a point guard, which had come to an abrupt end when I was sixteen.

“It sounds as if you loved it. Why did you stop playing?”

“My parents died. I stopped doing . . . pretty much everything.”

Her eyes were full of sympathy for me. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

I nodded and focused on filling the dishwasher, desperately trying to ignore the melancholy that filled my heart. Sensing my need to change the subject, Olivia started talking about Lucas’s teenage years, and her tone was warm and affectionate.

“He was so smart. Too smart for his age, really. Growing up in a city like Manhattan tends to make a child grow up a little quicker than they should. Despite your best efforts, you just can’t shield your children from everything.”

“I think that’s true no matter where you live, though. It’s impossible to protect them from everything.”

We both grew quiet, and the roar of the dishwasher filled the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, but the compassion radiating from her was making me a little teary-eyed.

“You miss your mom.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Every day.”

Olivia pulled me by the hand and led me over to the kitchen table.

“I still find myself picking up the phone to call mine,” she said quietly, squeezing my hand. “She passed away five years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for you, too.” Her eyes were shining with tears, too. “I didn’t mean for things to get so heavy.”

“It’s okay,” I replied, and I meant it. It was nice to talk about all of this with someone a little older . . . a little wiser.

With a mom.

She held my hand tightly in her own while I spilled my guts to this woman I’d met only hours earlier. Olivia listened patiently and intently, but it was when I told her about Memphis, that she finally dissolved into tears.

“You’ve endured so much,” Olivia whispered through her sobs, “and yet you’re still this wonderfully sweet young woman.”

Embarrassed, I hastily jumped up from my chair to hunt for a box of tissues just as Lucas stuck his head inside the kitchen. Worriedly, he glanced between me and his mother.

“Is everything okay in here?”

“Oh, we’re fine,” his mother chuckled when I placed the box on the table. “Sarah and I were just getting to know each other.”

Olivia dabbed at her eyes.

“You’re okay?” he whispered, pulling me close.

Burying my face against his chest, I snuggled against him. “I’m fine.”

Sighing heavily, he kissed the top of my hair before gazing down at me.

“I hate to see you cry,” he murmured, brushing my wet cheeks with the back of his hand. “It kills me, every single time.”

His sweet words made his mother weep even harder.

“This is a good cry, though. Just emotional girl talk, that’s all.”

Nodding, he kissed me softly before turning toward his mother. She offered him a watery smile when he leaned down to kiss her cheek. After taking one last glimpse at each of us, Lucas headed back toward the living room.

“He’s a worrywart,” I said, offering another tissue before sitting down with her once again.

Olivia looked proud. “He didn’t used to be. You are so precious to him.”

She was going to make me cry again. Bowing my head, I toyed with the tissue in my hand.

“We need tea,” she announced, springing from her chair. “Do you have tea?”

I tried not to laugh as she swung open the doors of my pantry.

“I have sweet tea, and it’s in the fridge.”

Olivia made a face. “
Sweet
tea?”

Giggling, I rose from my chair and walked over to the cabinets. Without thinking twice, I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“He’s precious to me, too.”

It was very important she understood this.

Gazing down at me, her blue eyes welled with tears once again.

“I know, sweet girl. I know.”

Chapter 21

Three weeks. I can do anything for three weeks.

    Chanting my mantra in my head, I passed out the copies of the novel we’d be reading between now and Christmas vacation.

“Thank goodness it isn’t Shakespeare,” Carrie muttered, flipping through the pages of the book.

Amen.

With a heavy heart, my eyes settled onto Matt’s empty chair. He’d been expelled, of course. Beating Patrick with a metal pipe had given Principal Mullins all the ammunition he needed to toss Matt out of school. Because he was a senior, the school board was allowing him to finish the year in alternative school, ensuring he’ll still graduate in May.

It was something, at least.

Patrick was still recovering from his injuries and officially listed as a homebound student. His jaw was broken, and another surgery had already been scheduled to repair more of the damage. Lucas still refused to give me the gory details of that day, and a small part of me was thankful.

I’d witnessed enough disturbing images to last me a lifetime.

“Do you think it’ll snow, Miss Bray?” Howie asked from his desk. Every head swiveled toward the windows, desperately seeking visual proof that December had indeed arrived.

“Snow is forecasted for this afternoon.”

I couldn’t deny it. I was a little excited to see my first mountain snow in years. I made a mental note to stop by the grocery store to stock up, just in case.

“Maybe we’ll get a snow day tomorrow!” Carrie gushed excitedly.

This made me curious. “Did you get many snow days last year?”

Growing up, our community would sometimes come to a standstill with only a little snow. Small towns like Sycamore Falls rarely had the budget necessary to employ a large road crew to deal with the icy roads. A simple inch or two of snow usually resulted in a few days off from school.

“We had an entire week off last year,” Howie explained. “A big storm hit in January.”

Visions of being snowed-in for a week with Lucas danced in my head.

The bell sounded, breaking me out of my daydream. The class filed out and I turned toward my computer, quickly checking my school email. I was stunned to find a message from Matt’s mom waiting for me in my inbox, asking if Lucas and I would consider tutoring Matt in the afternoons.