Chapter Nineteen

Luke

Ayla sat across from me in the restaurant as her dad took the stage with his band, Bollocks and Beer. I picked up a fry and dipped it in ketchup. I’d never seen a live band play before, but Ayla assured me they were really good.

Landon took a bite of fish, then grinned up at me. “This is so good. I’ve never had this kind of fish before. Only those stick ones in the box.”

I dipped mine into the tartar sauce and nodded. “You mean you don’t like my fish sticks?”

Landon wrinkled his nose. “No. You always burn them.”

Ayla nudged me. “What? I thought you could cook. Don’t tell me I’m going to need to give you some lessons.”

Her eyes twinkled, and I had the sudden urge to lean over and kiss her. However, with her mom and Landon sitting right there, I resisted.

Ayla took a sip of lemonade. “I asked Dad to play ‘Molly Malone’ first,” she said. “It’s one of my favorites. The band does a lot of traditional stuff.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever heard any Irish music,” I said.

“Not even ‘Danny Boy’?” Her brows raised.

“Okay, maybe that one.”

“Does everyone have enough food?” Mrs. Hawkins asked. “If you want, I can have them bring another basket of fish and chips. Or maybe some chicken strips.”

“We can have seconds?” Landon asked, his eyes wide.

“Yep. And you better save some room for dessert, because I hear they have sundaes tonight.” She ruffled his hair.

A slight twinge went through me. This was what a real family should be like. Sitting around, having a meal together, talking, relaxing. Ayla’s mom was so good with Landon. She knew the right things to say when he asked crazy questions. Ayla’s dad had spent two hours earlier in the day letting Landon show him how to play a video game. They’d made us welcome in their home, giving us our own rooms, letting us pick out the type of cereal we wanted at the store, and not the off-brand kind, either. Mr. Hawkins even asked if there was anything Landon or I needed, then proceeded to take us to get some new clothes.

My throat constricted. How many nights had I longed for something like this?

Mr. Hawkins sat on a stool beside four other guys. They introduced themselves, and everyone cheered. He adjusted the microphone in front of his mouth. “Now, I promised my daughter I’d sing ‘Molly Malone’ first tonight. I hope everyone’s okay with that,” he said.

People clapped louder, whooping and hollering.

Ayla turned to me. “Come on.” She held her hand out to me.

“Where are you going?”

“We’re going to dance. It’ll be fun.” She waggled her fingers at me until I followed her onto the floor.

Several older couples joined us as the guitar chords filled the room, along with what Ayla told me was a penny whistle.

She rested her head against my chest while we swayed back and forth. I closed my eyes, letting my chin set on top of her head. The soft music seemed to wrap around us. I heard Ayla sing along, and it broke something inside me.

“I could listen to you sing all night,” I said against her hair.

“If you want, I’ll serenade you beneath your window at two in the morning, then we’ll see how much you like my singing,” she teased as she twisted to peer up at me. “So, are you enjoying your first experience watching an Irish band?”

I grinned. “Yeah, but I thought there’d be more drinking.”

“If you want, I could tell everyone to grab another pint or something.”

“No. I’m good.” I loved the feel of her against me. The way she fit perfectly in my arms. How one smile from her could make my insides rattle. Were we officially dating yet? I hadn’t really asked her out. But it might be weird to say something now. Last night she’d said she wasn’t going to blackmail me anymore, yet I wasn’t sure if that meant we were dating or not dating. “So where do we go from here?”

“Well, you did kind of move in with me. And you’re pretty good at kissing…”

“Pretty good?” My mouth twitched.

Her cheeks turned pink. “Maybe better than good. Okay, you’re great.”

I chuckled. “Um, you kind of make my kissing sound like a cereal commercial.”

“I like cereal.” She ran her hand along my neck, sending chills clear to my spine.

“Only cereal?”

“And you,” she whispered.

“You don’t know how badly I wish we were alone right now.” My voice came out hoarse.

“Why’s that?”

“So I could give you one of my infamous cereal kisses.” I wrapped my arms tighter about her waist until our chests were pressed together.

“We could always sneak out to the tree house later.”

“And have your dad or mom catch us? Last night we were lucky they didn’t. I don’t want to tempt fate.” And I really didn’t want to screw things up with them, not with all they were doing for Landon and me.

“You’re right. Maybe we can just sit in the backyard for a few minutes.”

“You do have a nice porch swing out there.”

“Not quite a tree house, but it’ll work as a backup.” She smiled.

When the song ended, we headed back to the table. Landon and Mrs. Hawkins decided to dance to the next song. As I watched them move around, I caught Ayla’s hand and brought it to my mouth. I could really get used to this. But I wasn’t sure I dared to. Everything in my life always fell apart; did I really want to drag Ayla down with me? What would happen when she realized I was nothing but a hot mess? Like everyone else in my life, would she walk away, too?

The band played for a little over an hour, and when they finished, we headed back to the Hawkinses’ house. When we got there, there was a large, expensive-looking SUV in the driveway.

“Who’s that?” Ayla asked.

That’s when I saw the man dressed in a blue suit on the porch. My dad.

I stiffened. What the hell was he doing here?

He came out to the Hawkinses’ car. Dark rings circled his too-blue eyes. His once blond hair had a spattering of gray in it now. When he saw us in the backseat, his eyes welled.

Mr. Hawkins turned off the engine and climbed from the vehicle.

“Hi, I’m Lars Pressler, Luke and Landon’s dad. I got a call this morning that the boys had been removed from my ex-wife’s house. The worker said they were staying on with you?”

Mr. Hawkins nodded. “Why don’t you come inside? We can talk in there.”

Landon grabbed tight to my hand, his gaze focused on our dad as if he was some sort of movie star or maybe a fairy-tale character.

The Hawkinses moved toward the house, but my legs suddenly turned to cement. I hadn’t seen this man since fourth grade—other than one small photograph I kept in my dresser that I’d shown to Landon just so he’d know what he looked like. Or maybe it’d been to keep me from forgetting what he looked like. What the hell was he doing here now? Where had he been all these years when we’d needed him?

It was Ayla who snapped me out of my stupor as my anger welled.

“Luke, come on. At least hear him out,” she said, wrapping an arm around my waist and forcing me forward.

Of course she was right, but that didn’t mean I wanted to do this. Shit. If we’d been like ten minutes later, we might’ve missed him all together.

“Did Carmen explain what happened?” Ayla’s dad asked him.

“Yes. You don’t know how horrible I feel about this.” My dad got choked up.

But was it an act? He glanced between me and Landon.

“You boys have gotten so big. I can’t believe how old you are.” He held his hand out to Landon, who hesitated only a moment before rushing to him. He hugged my brother tightly.

Landon sobbed. “Daddy, you came back for us. I knew you would. I kept wishing you would.”

Landon had always held out hope Dad would come back. I was the one who showed him the picture we had of him. I was the one who tried to keep him alive in his mind, when he was already dead in mine. All Landon had ever wanted was to know him. So he was more forgiving than I’d be.

Dad turned to stare at me, and instead of going to him, I rushed out the back door and into the Hawkinses’ yard. I fisted my hands against my eyes. What the fuck? Did he come just because of CPS? Did he really not know what was going on with us?

I heard the back door open and close. “Luke, can we talk?” Dad said. His voice was soft, as if he was scared he might spook me if he spoke too loud.

“You want to talk? After all these years? You fucking left us—you didn’t call, you didn’t visit, you didn’t even bother to send money. I’ve been working my ass off to make sure Landon was taken care of…that was supposed to be your job, not mine.”

Dad gently caught my arm and forced me to look at him. “I tried to see you. Your mom said you didn’t want anything to do with me. She said you were angry with me. The last thing I wanted to do was make you and Landon more miserable. And I sent money through the courts. They took two thousand a month from my checks.”

“What?” My jaw tightened. Had Mom lied to me all these years? If so, what the fuck had she done with all the money? Unless, of course, he was feeding me a bullshit line—just like a Pressler to try to wriggle their way out of trouble. “How do you expect me to believe that? Do you think we’re just going to let you waltz right back into our lives because you say you sent money?”

“She never told you, did she?” Dad tugged me over to a picnic table, which sat beneath a large red maple tree. He rubbed a hand across his face, looking a lot older than I remembered. “When we first divorced, I stopped by the house on Port Street several times to see you and your brother. She always told me that you were too upset to come with me.”

“Port Street? We haven’t lived there in forever.” He hadn’t even bothered to keep track of us.

“After she sent me away from the Port Street house several times, I thought about getting a lawyer to fight for time with you boys. But I didn’t want to put you two in the middle of a custody battle. I should’ve known your mom was lying—she’d done so much of it during our marriage.”

“She said you didn’t want anything to do with us. That you ran off with your secretary and lived in Italy.” Did he have an excuse for everything? Why couldn’t he just man up and tell me that he hadn’t wanted Landon and me? It’d hurt, but I’d gotten used to not having a dad over the years. I didn’t need one now. Now that I was grown-up.

“Shit. No, I still live up on the hill, next door to your grandparents. I’ve passed you in my car a couple of times, when you’ve visited Brady. And I never got remarried or slept with my secretary. In fact, your mom hasn’t told you one thing that’s even remotely true.” He sighed. “I was gone on a business meeting when you were in fourth grade. Your mom and I had been fighting a lot. Mostly over her purchasing things and overspending. The fact that she’d been seen out at the bar on several occasions with men who weren’t me.” He stopped and watched me for long seconds. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this right now.”

I glanced at him. “I’m old enough to hear it.”

He nodded then continued. “The last straw was when I came home early to find her with one of my golf partners. I told her we were done and I wanted her out of the house by the next day. She sent you to school the next morning, then packed all yours and Landon’s things and moved. I never meant for her to take you kids. By the time she picked you up from school, she’d already hired an attorney with money she’d swiped from our joint account. Next thing I knew, there was a court order granting me limited parenting time due to my job and having to be on the road so much.”

Unbelievable. Everything I thought I knew was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t my dad who’d been the douche bag, it’d been my mom. This whole time, had she been lying to me? Fabricating stories to make me hate him? Or maybe she hadn’t been. Maybe Dad was just here now to save face. I mean, his friends would definitely hear about my mom going to jail. He probably didn’t want the Pressler name ruined. Fuck. I had no idea what to believe. Dad had been absent from my reality for so long that I didn’t know whether he was bullshitting me.

I sucked in a deep breath, fighting back the tears. Even if he was being dishonest, it didn’t change the fact that my mom was in jail and Landon and I needed a place to go. I was sure the Hawkinses would let us stay with them for now, but probably not forever, and we weren’t their responsibility. And the one good thing about us going to my dad’s was that at least Landon would be taken care of.

Maybe things could be different now. Maybe I wouldn’t have to work all the time. I could finish high school, concentrating on my grades instead of where my next meal came from. But did I dare open myself up to be hurt again? What if Dad got us home and decided he didn’t really want us? What if he left again? Could I handle something like that a second time?

“What’s going to happen now?” I whispered.

Dad stood and came around to my side of the table. He pulled me to my feet and hugged me tight. At first I attempted to pull away, but he held onto me. Hesitantly, I hugged him back. For so long I wished Dad would come back, and now I wasn’t sure what to think.

“Now, I’m going to fight for you and Landon, like I should’ve done a long time ago. I’m going to make sure you never have to go through anything like this again.”

“Mom’s in jail.” As if he didn’t already know that. But saying it out loud made it more real.

“I know. And by the sounds of it, they found drugs and other things in the house as well. She might be going away for a while—but you’ll have a place to stay.”

“Are we going with you now?” I asked. Fear rolled through me. I wasn’t sure I was ready to move back to Mansion Hill. Back home with a man who was basically a stranger. Yet, I had to think about Landon, too. His needs. Needs I couldn’t meet on my own. We had no other family. And I couldn’t burden the Hawkinses like this. Besides, didn’t Dad owe us? For all the times he wasn’t there?

“No. Carmen, the CPS lady, said we’d have you and Landon stay here tonight, then let the judge decide what needs to be done tomorrow,” he said.

“And what if they won’t let you take us? Where will we go?” The question wasn’t really about me, though; I was old enough to be on my own, or at least if I could get myself emancipated, I was. But not Landon. I wouldn’t let them put him in the foster care system or whatever it was that the courts did.

“I’ve got an attorney, not to mention your grandparents are pretty influential. We’ll find a way to bring you home, okay?”

I nodded, hugging him tight despite myself. How many nights had I tried to remember what life was like when my dad was in the picture? How many times had I pictured him in the stands for my basketball games or at my academic award ceremonies? Yet, I didn’t dare get my hopes up. Because things never turned out for me.

“Why don’t we go back inside? I’d like to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins for a bit,” he said.

He released me, and I followed after him. As soon as we walked in, Landon latched back onto our dad. And I went straight for Ayla.

She wrapped her arms around me. “Everything will work out, you’ll see,” she said.

And I believed her. Ayla had been my rock through so much recently. She might’ve started off as my fake girlfriend, but now I couldn’t imagine my life without her in it.

…

On Monday morning, Mr. Hawkins drove me and Landon to the courthouse. Ayla had wanted to come along, but I assured her we’d be fine. My stomach grew queasy. I peered at Landon as we walked into the brick building and took his hand.

“Luke, do you know what we have to do?”

“Not sure, buddy. But everything will work out, you’ll see.” Or at least I hoped it would. I had mixed feelings about all of this. I was pissed at my mom for all that she’d put us through. I was pissed at my dad for not trying harder. Why didn’t he check into things more? Maybe it was like he said, he didn’t want to put us in the middle of it. Problem being, that’s exactly where we were now.

The CPS worker, Carmen, met us in the hallway. “Hey, good to see you.” She smiled, patting us both on the arm. “Before the hearing, the judge wanted to interview you. There will be a family court worker in there as well. He just wants to get an idea of your thoughts before we go on the record with our recommendations. With you almost being of the age of majority, Luke, he might ask you a few more questions—”

“Okay,” I said. Down the hall, I spotted my dad, along with Grandma and Grandpa Pressler, and next to them was an older man who I assumed was Dad’s lawyer.

When Grandma Pressler saw us, her eyes welled with tears. She waved.

“Are we allowed to talk to my dad and his family?” I asked.

Carmen nodded. “You can say hi, but come right back. The judge should be ready for you any minute now.”

Holding tight to Landon, we moved toward our family. Grandma rushed toward us, and I went straight into her arms. “My baby boys. We’ve missed you so much.”

Nothing was how Mom said it was. She’d kept us from them, too. Choked up, I just squeezed her. Unless it was all an act? I didn’t know.

When she pulled back, she touched my cheek. “You look so much like your father did at this age.”

Grandpa and Dad joined us as well. Grandpa patted me on the shoulder, then brought me in for a bear hug, much like he used to do when I was Landon’s age. “We’ve been keeping an eye on you in the paper. Saw you got a full ride to Michigan. We’re so proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“No matter what happens today in court, we’ll be here for you,” Dad said. “I’ve hired a really good lawyer, and this time I’ll fight—I promise.”

Carmen waved for us to join her again. She took us into the judge’s chambers. Behind the desk sat an older man with graying hair. His glasses slid down his nose as he pointed for us to take a seat.

“Luke, Landon, this is Judge Dykstra. He’s our family court judge. And this is Ruth Gebberd—she deals a lot with families here at the courthouse.”

“Good to meet you.” The judge held out his hand, and I gave it a firm shake.

For the next hour, the judge and his clerk asked us a lot of questions. Everything from how we were doing in school to what our home life was like. When I mentioned paying the bills and Mom’s drinking issues, his lips pursed.

And that’s what I think sealed his decision.