Page 20 of Unexpected

“Yes. You’re not what I expected; actually, you’re wholly unexpected,” I said, without the intention of expanding. Maybe another time, I would. I finished off the rest of my beer, and we both stood and headed back to the car.

I helped him get Sadie in the back seat, and he opened the driver’s side door and closed it behind me after I slid inside. The small act sent butterflies fluttering through me. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had voluntarily opened the door for me.

Most of the drive home was silent until “Highway to Hell” came on the radio, and Luke proclaimed it was one of his favorite classic rock songs. He turned it up and proceeded to play the air guitar and air drums for the four-minute-long song.

After I got over my fear of him hearing my tone-deaf voice, I began to sing along, which granted me an unusually large smile from him. Seeing him smile at me made the muscles in my stomach tighten and my mouth go dry.

At the end of the song, the screen on the dashboard lit up and announced I had a new text from Michael.

“You can listen to it if you need to,” Luke said as we turned down our street.

“No, that’s okay. It can wait a few minutes.” As I said it, I attempted to press the ignore button, but as luck would have it, my finger slipped, and I inadvertently hit the listen button instead.

“I don’t want to have to remind you about the fucking bike again. I spent a lot of money on that, so get it fixed. Also, don’t forget to clean up before I get home. I’m excited to see you too.”

I was mortified. I was used to Michael’s angry messages when he was stressed with work. I could handle it, but I didn’t want anyone else to hear it. I knew the way it sounded.

I silently cursed the slow speed limit in our neighborhood and the several children playing in the street. I wanted to rush home and hide in the house for the rest of eternity, but I continued to crawl at a snail's pace as I weaved through the children and toys.

“I’m sorry.” It was barely above a whisper, but I knew Luke could hear it in the silent car.

I didn’t want to look at him, but when he didn’t respond, I snuck a quick glance in his direction. His hand was back to holding the handle above the door, and he was staring straight ahead. The muscles in his jaw were ticcing, and a new vein I hadn’t noticed before in the side of his neck was very pronounced.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” is all he said before Ifinallypulled into my driveway.

My will to hide was pulling me to the front door, and I could hear the new bottle of wine I bought yesterday calling my name. “Well, thank you for dinner, and—”

“Does he always talk to you like that?”

The question startled me, and I wasn’t sure how to respond after I unintentionally flinched at his tone. I could feel the tension, even anger rolling off him in waves as I searched my mind for the simplest answer.

“No, he’s just stressed with work, and he’s been gone awhile. Being gone, being away from me, is hard on him.”

He nodded but didn’t respond. He was still tense, but the vein in his neck was less pronounced. Without another word, he opened his door and let Sadie out of the back. This time she easily bounced out of the open door and headed to their house.

“Thank you again for helping Sadie, and…” He trailed off, lost in thought, before he finally said, “If you ever need me, I’m right next door.”

“Same to you,” I said and he gave me a smile that didn’t reach anywhere near his emerald-green eyes. Eyes a color that I didn’t fully appreciate until that moment when they were full of so many questions, I knew he wanted to ask but thankfully didn’t.

Once at my front door, I felt guilty for how poorly a rather good night ended, so I called out, “Did you remember your Halloween candy? Or do you need to borrow some?”

I got a chuckle out of him, but not the laugh I was hoping for.

“I got some, but thanks.”

“OK, good. Good night, neighbor.”

He let Sadie inside, but before stepping in, he said, “Good night, Angel.”

TEN

Luke

I had livedin Texas my whole life. My mom and dad were also born in Texas and raised Josh and me in a suburb of Austin until they died when we were in high school. I tried not to think about them often—they didn’t die from natural causes and their deaths were completely preventable—but when it was hot as it was even at the end of October, it was hard not to think about them.

My childhood was not very joyful, and I couldn’t remember many times of laughter or serenity except when we went to the lake. After school started every year, my parents would load Josh and me up in the car and make the hour drive to Lake Travis. We would only go once school started because it was too busy any other time, yet it was still warm enough to enjoy.

One year Josh begged my dad to buy us a float or two so we could float around the water. For once, my dad agreed and bought each of us a float of our choosing, within reason. We didn’t have money for a lot, but that was a big-ass win in our book.

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