The Moment of Letting Go - J. A. Redmerski Page 0,68

in one-bedroom apartments. Landon and I slept in the living room. Mom was a waitress usually, or sometimes she worked as a cashier in a gas station. My dad was an underpaid mechanic for most of his life until he lost his job to someone fifteen years younger and who’d work for less money. So then my dad joined the wonderful and fulfilling career of cleaning toilets and mopping floors at a junior high school.”

“Oh joy,” I say with sarcasm that matches his.

I start to add to his sarcasm, but I’m stopped in my tracks with his next set of words.

“But not having much money is not such a bad thing. Having been on both sides of the fence, I can without a doubt say that I’d choose no money over no passion or family any day of the week.”

Taken aback by his admission, I absently set the laptop on the floor and look at him with inquiry.

I agree with most of his views, but I just don’t want to struggle. I’ve seen it and lived it all my life and I can’t see not striving for something better.

“What’s wrong with having both?” I ask.

Luke shakes his head, his jaw tightening as he stares off at nothing.

“Some people can pull that off,” he says, “but I’m not one of them, and I don’t think there are really that many people who can. It’s true what they say—money really does change a person.”

“Is that why you called it ‘useless money’?” I point out, and when he doesn’t recall right away, I explain further. “Back in the car, when you were telling me about the business. You said there was a lot of useless money in yours and Landon’s accounts. Why was it useless?”

He seems surprised I caught that, much less that I remembered such a small and seemingly insignificant detail. “Because it was a trade,” he begins. “One that I had no idea was a trade, or what I was trading for. Otherwise I would’ve dropped my millions like a bad habit and never looked back.”

“What was the trade?” I ask with soft caution.

He pauses. “Everything,” he answers, and suddenly becomes distant, staring toward the window, lost in his thoughts. “Absolutely everything.”

Silence passes between us for what feels like forever, until Luke snaps back into the moment, smiles hugely, and jumps to his feet. He leans over and grabs my hand, pulling me up with him. Next thing I know, I can feel the heat from his body pressed to mine and he’s looking into my eyes so closely that I can feel the warmth of his minty breath on my lips. I want him to kiss me. I even find myself beginning to lean in to it, my eyelids getting heavy, but I’m also snapped back into the moment when he starts to walk with me to the door instead, and we leave the room and all of the paintings behind.

“Why don’t you change?” he suggests, pointing to the bag on the coffee table with my new clothes and white flip-flops. “Let’s go for a walk.”

While we were sitting together out on the beach, just before dark, Luke told me more about the money and the trade, elaborating a little on the wedge he mentioned that it drove between him and his brother. “I wanted to keep the money coming,” he had said. “But Landon, he wanted to give it all up. Literally give it up. I thought he was insane. Who does that? Who is poor all their life, then one day hits the jackpot and never has to worry about money again, but then wants to give it away?”

I just sat there beside him on the sand, yards from his house and listened, feeling the intensity in every word as if he thought Landon were sitting there beside us.

But as always, he seemed to tiptoe around any topic having to do with Landon. He has so much to say, so much to get off his chest, and I feel like he’s trying the only way he knows how to take that step, to reach out to someone, but he can’t bring himself to do it.

Maybe he needs a nudge.

“Luke?” I ask, now sitting on the lanai at a little round table. He looks over at me from the other side, the moonlight casting a shadow on his face. He smiles.

“Yeah?”

I hesitate, trying to make sure in my mind that it’s OK to open this door to him, and