The Truth About That Summer

twenty-three

"What're you doing here?" Mom stomps through the gravel drive to approach Luke, her pointed heels sinking into the dirt and leaving little holes as she goes.

Exhaling, I follow, ready to get in her way if needed. Luke holds his hands in front of him peacefully, having successfully buckled in little Finn, and finds the drivers side of the car.

"I'm leaving."

"That's very convenient." Mom murmurs, dark eyes flitting between the two of us suspiciously. "What have you two been up to together, hm?"

Luke shakes his head, opening his mouth to explain but I cut in, well versed in the "stay-away-from-Luke-Henson" conversation already.

"Nothing, Mom, jeez." I glare at her, my jaw set defiantly. "He goes to the daycare center where I work, he thought I might be able to watch Finn for a little, that's all."

Luke's mouth twitches, his eyes cast down to the ground, but I don't let my curiosity wander.

"Why would you and your grandmother watch his... What?" Mom narrows her eyes at him, judgement and dissatisfaction distorting her features. "Did you finally get some young girl pregnant? Is he your son?"

Jesus. My mouth pops open in shock - while usually passive aggressive and judgmental, my mother tends to mind her manners better than to outwardly be so crass.

"Okay, Mom. Enough," I shake my head, trying to direct her away from the car and into the house.

Dad is still standing awkwardly on the steps, making no move to diffuse the situation, as I attempt to push her forward.

God, can't he do anything anymore? Frustration grows inside me, scrunching my face tightly, as I watch him merely kick pebbles from the porch into the flowerbeds.

"He's my nephew." Luke answers evenly, despite the frown lines etching his tan skin at the mention of his past with women.

"Well, Laura's then. No surprise there, either, I'm afraid." Mom scrunches her nose and turns on her heel, making her way into the cottage on her own. Left standing in her wake, I watch after her with my mouth dropped.

Laura never did anything to our family. The comment was completely uncalled for, and that's coming from me.

Dad trails behind her, avoiding the sight of Luke almost as much as he avoids me.

Closing my eyes and exhaling slowly, I bend down to say goodbye to Finn, plastering a faux-grin on my face. "I'll see you on Monday, right, buddy?"

He nods, wide, green eyes seeming to understand that now isn't the time for questions.

Straightening, I face Luke and offer a tight lipped smile. Before I can attempt an apology, Luke rolls his eyes up to the sky.

"Remember when they didn't hate me?" He murmurs, lip turning up in one corner goodnaturedly.

Hate him? There was a time when Luke was like a son to them. But that was a long time ago.

I nod, "Things were different then. They didn't mind me so much, then, either."

I repress a humorless chuckle. Casey was so... good. He got good grades, had a path to college, got into mischief with Luke, but somehow never managed any real harm, got along with our parents no matter what. Before he was gone, I was comfortable hiding in his shadow, letting it mask some of the lesser parts of myself. Like staying out past curfew or having no intention of continuing school after I graduated.

It was okay, because they had Casey. He made up for all of my shortcomings. Now...

"Dylan Grace, what are you still doing outside?" Mom shouts from the doorway, eyeballing Luke as if he's the spawn of the devil himself. "Don't leave us waiting. It's rude."

I almost laugh as she pops her head back inside. Rude. As if she has room to talk.

Meeting my eyes, Luke offers a sympathetic shrug. "Go on, I'll figure something out."

Wishing I could spend the day playing blocks with Finn or strolling along the beach, I return to the house, now overcrowded with the ominous presence of my mother and father, as the sound of Luke's car fades away.

"What're you doing here, anyways?" I mutter, scavenging the kitchen for some breakfast.

"The real question," Mom joins me, hovering like a gnat. Dad is already in the living room, lying out on the couch, recuperating from the drive, I'm sure. "Is what are you? Avoiding our calls, hanging out with Luke-" Mom pushes on.

My irritation boils over. "I'm not hanging out with Luke!"

At the same time as I snap, Grams scuffles into the dining room, plopping herself down at her usual spot around the table. As we both turn to face her, our conversation paused for the moment, Grams makes a show of opening up her newspaper, speaking without glancing up.

"Good morning, Charlotte. How nice to see you again. How was the drive?"

Mom cools down on the surface but I know she's just bottling up her intrusive nature for the timebeing. She'll pounce once the pleasantries are out of the way.

"June." She murmurs in a clipped tone. "Long. Joseph is resting now."

Grams eyes flash up at the mention of her son. I can see the worry there, real worry, not like the concern Mom claims to have for me, and some of the anger at my father fades for just a moment.

"Well, find something to eat and sit down," Grams invites us to the table with wrinkled hands, hiding her true emotions. "We have lots to catch up on."

"Yes," Mom sighs, setting her gaze directly on my face as she pours her own mug of coffee. "We have much to discuss."

Thank you for your patience loves. I promise more is coming soon! Had a busy week with family.

But what do you think? Who is worse - Dyl's mom or her dad?
What's all this talk of Luke's love life about?

Remember to vote if you liked the chapter!