She also knew, after that, no kids ever teased me. Not ever again.
Further, she knew about when Luke was fourteen and I was ten, he’d had one of many humdinger fights with his Dad that I heard all the way across the street. He’d torn out of the house and I’d gone after him. I found him in a park, ass to the ground, back against a tree, head bent, wrists resting on his cocked knees. I’d sat beside him and started telling jokes until he came out of his mood and started laughing.
She also knew about when I was twelve and Luke was sixteen and Luke, his Dad and Mom had come over for dinner. My mother, an aging beauty queen who still had two shelves full of trophies and ribbons from “the good old days”, got tipsy and announced to the table, “I’m so lucky. I have two beautiful daughters and one smart one.” Marilyn and Sofia grinned at each other. My father got red in the face and looked like he was going to hit the roof. Luke’s Dad chuckled uncomfortably in a way that sounded strangled but his Mom stared at me with concern.
I squirmed.
Luke leaned back in his chair, looked at Sofia and said, “Congratulations, you must have made the honor roll.” Sofia’s mouth dropped open in horror (I wasn’t the only Barlow girl with a crush on Luke, all three of us had the hots for him). I immediately stopped squirming and laughed so hard at Sofia’s horrified expression, I snorted.
Sissy also knew about the time, only five days before he graduated from high school, when I was fourteen and Luke was eighteen and it had become clear my Dad had left and wasn’t coming back – I was sitting on our front stoop, you could hear my mother crying and carrying on inside while my sisters argued with each other over a curling iron or something idiotic. I saw Luke come out of his house on his way to his motorcycle. He saw me, changed directions, crossed the street and sat down beside me. He didn’t say a word and neither did I. I just stared at his boots and wished he was my boyfriend, not for the first or the last time. It would have been a lot easier to cope with losing Dad if I’d had Luke as a boyfriend or anyone for that matter, but especially Luke.
I was close with my Dad, I thought we had a bond. I always thought it was the two of us against the other silly bitches in the house. I knew he found it trying to his patience, my mother, flighty, naggy, demanding, wanting a better life, house, car, curtains, whatever and always going on about it and going on about all the men she didn’t chose so she could be with Dad, rubbing his nose in it constantly. I knew, too, that he lamented where he went wrong with snotty, bitchy, catty Marilyn and Sofia though, he didn’t have to look too far, my Mom was a good teacher.
Dad had come into my bedroom late at night the day before he left and said, “Sorry, Ava, darlin’, but I just can’t take it anymore.” He’d woken me up and I didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t explain and he didn’t say anything more.
The next day he was gone.
“I thought…” I said to Luke and then stopped because I didn’t know what I thought.
Luke slid his arm around my waist and pulled me to his side. I put my head on his shoulder and we sat there a long time before Luke bumped his foot against mine. I got the hint and pulled back. He got up, leaned down, touched my nose then he was gone.
A few days later, like my Dad, he was really gone.
Luke came back every once in awhile though, visiting his Mom, fighting with his Dad and popping by to say hi to me.
Then he disappeared for eight years. I didn’t know where he went and his mother wasn’t talking or I would have found out because, normally, she told my mother everything.
Lastly, Sissy knew about Luke’s father’s funeral. I was twenty-four, Luke was twenty-eight. After the funeral, still at graveside, the Barlow Girl Brigade walked up to Luke and his Mom. Hugs and cheek kisses were passed around, both Marilyn and Sofia going for the gusto with Luke but his body went stiff when they pressed against him, which was embarrassing for me, having to watch it and knowing they were my sisters. As gorgeous as they were, Luke was totally aloof from the Bombshell Barlow Girls. That was until his eyes moved to me and I leaned in to kiss his cheek. His arms came around me and he pulled me into a close hug, pressing his bearded jaw against my temple.
“Good to see you, Ava,” he murmured and it sounded like he meant it.
“You too, Luke,” I said, pulling back a bit and looking at him. “Hanging in there?” I asked softly.
His eyes were warm, his face was hard and he was so f**king handsome, it took my breath away.
He kept his arms around me and looked down at me. “Yeah,” he answered.
“Wanna get drunk?” I asked, mostly teasing.
“Yeah,” he answered, definitely not teasing.
“I can probably arrange that,” I told him, still trying to keep the tone light but wanting to help ease his pain all the same. He and his Dad never got along, I knew that. Still, his Dad had been youngish and it was a shock. Massive heart attack. Not good, even if they didn’t get along.
“I’ll take you up on that,” Luke said. Then his eyes moved to his mother, he let me go and touched my nose. “I’ll call you.”
I nodded. “It’s a deal,” I promised.
Then we moved away and more mourners moved into our space to offer their condolences. I walked away slowly, wanting to be in his presence for as long as I could drag it out.
It was later I overheard my sisters talking in our living room.
“God, it was sick, seeing her pressed up to him like that. All her fat, like, bulging,” Marilyn said.
“I know, I think I threw up a little bit looking at them. He could barely get his arms around her,” Sofia replied.
“I came all this way just to see him and he barely looked at me. But he hugged Ava. How f**king weird is that?” Marilyn went on.
“Maybe he’s g*y,” Sofia suggested.