Page 104 of Quiet Beautiful Things

“How long do you think she’ll be mad at me? When do you think it’ll be safe for me to go home?”

Dallas and I share a look.

“What?” Lucas asks.

“We, uh… just came from your place,” I say. “It sort of looked like she moved out.”

His drunken eyes snap up in surprise. “Moved out? It’s barely been a few hours.”

“It looked like she was in a hurry.”

“Let’s go,” he says, fishing keys out of his pocket.

I take them from him. “Oh, no. You’re not driving. I’ll follow Dallas in your car. Neither of us had very much.”

Thirty minutes later, Lucas is standing in his bedroom, staring into his closet, his face devoid of color. “She took almosteverything.” He picks up a few of her shirts off the floor. “Except these.” He holds out the Donovan’s Pub work shirts. “Why wouldn’t she take these?”

He goes to the bathroom where half the vanity has been cleared off. Back in the bedroom, he sits on the end of the bed, looking over at Lissa’s side. “She took her family photos.” He shakes his head, staring at the one photo shedidn’ttake. The one of the two of them taken on the day of their engagement. The one with the cracked glass I can only assume wasn’t cracked this morning. “Fuck,” he says, scooting across the bed and gathering it in his hands. “Do you think she’s done with me?”

“I think you need to give her some time, Lucas. She needs to decide if she can be with a guy who doesn’t want to be married to her.”

“What do you think she’ll do?” He looks from Dallas to me as if we have all the answers.

“I don’t know. But she was willing to be in a relationship with you knowing your past. And she was the one who didn’t want to get married. Maybe when she thinks about it, she’ll come around. But what I do know is that you have to let her know you still love her. That you want to go back to the way things were before you talked her into all this.”

“Yeah, okay. I can do that. She’s probably at her parents’ house. How long do you think I should wait?” He looks at his watch as if he’s asking how many minutes or hours.

“I’d say at least a day or two. She’s probably still pretty miffed. Let her cool off.”

He walks out of the bedroom straight to his bar, bypassing the whiskey and going for a beer. “Might as well get shitfaced then. It is my wedding night after all.”

Three hours later, Dallas and I carry our passed-out brother to bed.

We turn out the lights and let him sleep it off, vowing to meet back here in the morning.

On our way out the door, we run into Craig Monroe, Lissa’s father.

“Ah, hey, Mr. Monroe.”

“Dallas,” he says. “Nice to see you back in town. You doing okay?”

Dallas shrugs.

“Is your brother here?” Craig asks.

“Passed out,” I say. “After the bottle of whiskey he drank earlier, I doubt a nuclear explosion could wake him. Listen, if it means anything, he’s feeling all kinds of stupid. He loves Lissa. He wants to work things out. He just doesn’t want to be married is all. We told him to give Lissa some space.”

“Is that so?” He crosses his arms. “Well, too little too late. He hurt my daughter. For years she was afraid of this happening. After they moved in together, she changed her tune. She felthehad changed his. I think we all did. And I’m not going to sugarcoat things and tell you I don’t want to thwap some sense into him for doing this to my baby.”

I chuckle. “You’d have to get in line.”

“Yeah, well, as much as I want to see him in as much pain as she is, I’m not here to stir up a fight. I’m here to deliver a message.”

“I’m afraid it’ll have to wait. We can deliver it for you if you want.”

He nods. “Okay then. Be sure to tell him all of it. Every word. Lissa is done with him. He humiliated her. She said he will never change, and after all the chances he’s had to show what a real man he is, he failed her. She wants nothing to do with him. No contact whatsoever. She never wants to see or speak to him again.”

“But…” I look at Dallas before I state the obvious. “This is a small town. How will that work?”

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