Authors: Catherine Anderson
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General
For Mandy, it
was
suddenly starting to make dreadful sense. “Luke, why did you go to Zach? Why couldn’t you talk to me? I guess that’s what I really don’t understand.”
“You were the last person I could have talked to. You’re at the center of it. I was playing you, and I knew I shouldn’t, but if I stopped, then what? Then the game would have been up. I would have lost all my power. So I kept doing it.”
“Your power?”
“My power over you.” He flung the words at her. “Keeping it was the only way I knew to make sure you wouldn’t leave me.”
She couldn’t answer. Her throat felt constricted. Too much was coming at her too fast, uncovering emotions she’d thought safely locked away and forgotten. Luke turned his head. “Are you still there?” he asked sharply.
Leaning across the table, she took his hand, squeezed it, and found her voice. “So now you ... you’ve come to realize you don’t need the power and you’ve changed?”
“Not exactly, no. I just know I
need
to change. Big difference. I may wake up tomorrow and regret that I said any of this to you. But I had to. No matter how scared I am, I can’t keep on this way.”
“What exactly are you scared of?”
“Giving up the power.”
Mandy tried to digest that. “What kind of power, exactly? I’m not clear on that.”
“Making you feel guilty. And me acting like a jerk, letting you do stuff I can learn to do myself, never trying to make it easier for you. As long as I had all that going for me, I could keep you locked down here. I didn’t need to worry so much that you’d leave.”
“But, Luke, I
told
you—”
“I know what you’ve told me, but Mom said she’d never leave us, too. Remember? We’re not talking rational stuff here. I’m mixed-up in my head, Mands.”
“Then I’ll take you for counseling.”
“I’ve
been
to counseling. It might help if I cooperated for once and gave the doctors half a chance, but first I want to try it my way.”
Her tone reflected her bewilderment. “What way?”
“Mands, aren’t you listening? You’re the best, okay? I mean, really, you’re the best sister anybody ever had. You’ve been like a mom to me. I can’t remember once ever needing you and you weren’t there. The canning deal just happened. It wasn’t your fault. That’s why we call accidents
accidents
. Get it? No more guilt. If you hang in here with me, I need it to be because you want to, not because you have to.”
“I’ve never felt that I had to hang in here, Luke.”
“Yes, you have.” He wiped his cheeks with his sleeve. “I made sure of that.”
She couldn’t speak. Her brother seemed to sense it, because he went on as if there hadn’t been a pause.
“Both of us have to make some huge changes, not just me. I need to start taking care of myself, Mandy, and you have to
let
me. I’ll need help at first, but not the kind of help you always give me. I need to learn how to stand on my own two feet.”
Mandy rolled her lips in over her teeth. For years, all she’d heard from Luke were charges of blame. Now he was trying to set her free. She should have felt elated, but instead she felt like a tiny bird being shoved from its nest before it knew how to fly. It wasn’t the time to say so, and there might never be a time when she should say so, but Luke wasn’t the only one who was scared here.
“I’ll give it my best, Luke,” she said shakily. “To be honest, I think I need you to depend on me. It’s my only way to make up for the accident.”
“
There
, you see? You’re as mixed-up as I am. You didn’t deliberately hurt me. Turn loose of it. I’m going to. At least I’m going to try.”
Mandy felt as if a thousand pounds were being lifted from her heart. Luke really meant it. He no longer blamed her for his blindness. She needed some time to roll that around inside her head before it could take root.
“I love you, Luke.”
“I love you, too.” He curled his hand over the grip of the cane and pushed to his feet. “We can talk some more while we make dinner.” He tapped the linoleum in front of him. “How can I help?”
“You don’t need to help. I’ve got it.”
“Mandy
.
”
She laughed weakly. “Okay, okay. You did a fair job of smearing peanut butter on bread. We’re having grilled cheese. You can try your hand at spreading mayonnaise.”
“You ever had a Coney Island hot dog?” Luke asked.
“Not in a long time. You know Dad, gourmet all the way, and the habit stuck.”
“All the more reason to break the habit,” Luke said. “He’s still running our lives. We need to fix that.”
Mandy mulled that over. “You’re right. When I go shopping, I’ll buy some wieners.”
“Make a special trip. And get canned chili. Making it from scratch isn’t allowed. I don’t want
gourmet
Coney Island dogs. I want the greasy, concession-stand kind that’ll set me up for an early heart attack.”
Mandy laughed. She let Luke grill the sandwiches. Under her watchful eye, he didn’t burn himself, and the bread was only slightly too brown on one side.
One foot braced on the seat of a kitchen chair, her opposite knee planted on the countertop, Mandy twisted to secure a piece of red tape to the front edge of the bottom cupboard shelf. When the adhesive was secure, she ran a fingertip over the raised lettering. “You know, Luke, I honestly think this might work! I’m not as good at recognizing letters by touch as you are, but I can tell this says, ‘chocolate drinks.’ ”
From behind her, Luke said, “Of course it’ll work. Just make sure you mark the shelf where you keep the cookies. Okay? I
hate
having to go through all the plastic containers to find them.”
“So the night I caught you eating cookies wasn’t your first kitchen raid.”
“Heck, no.”
Mandy had suspected as much. Balancing her weight on her knee, she turned to look at her brother. He sat forward on a chair, knees spread to accommodate the cane, his hands curled over the crook of the handle. “You little sneak!” she cried.
Luke grinned. “I was sure you’d figure it out sooner or later.”
Mandy laughed and turned back to her task. “I think the cereal should go on the second shelf. There’s more height there. Will that work for you?”
“Sure. Can the cookies go on a lower shelf, though?”
Mandy smiled as she worked with the labeler. “No wonder the cookies disappear so fast. I thought I was eating them. You know how sometimes you just put stuff in your mouth without thinking? And all the time, it was
you
.”
Luke said nothing. Mandy angled a glance at him over her shoulder. His grin had vanished. “What?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“The night I pretended to fall on the kitchen floor and begged you to come help me get back to my room.”
Mandy set aside the labeler and shifted to sit on the counter.
“I faked it all,” he confessed in a hollow voice. “You’d caught me, and when you left me out here, I panicked. I had to convince you again that I was helpless. You know?”
Mandy closed her eyes, remembering how furious she’d been with Luke that night. She also recalled thinking—no,
knowing
—that Luke was putting on an act to bring her back to heel. Yet she’d gotten up anyway and returned to the kitchen to be his savior.
“Oh, God,” she said softly. “Zach is right. You aren’t the only one who’s been playing games. I knew you were faking, and I let it slide. I
needed
you to need me.”
“That time you made me walk in the backyard, I tripped over the shrub on purpose, too. I didn’t mean to hit my head on the rock. I just wanted to get back at you.” Luke puffed air into his cheeks. “I’ll try hard never to pretend again. Okay? I’m sorry.”
“It isn’t that.” Mandy ran her fingers into her hair and made a fist. “I’m just starting to grasp that I really do need counseling as much as you do.”
Luke slumped back on the chair, resting the cane across his knees. “Counseling for both of us would cost a fortune. Why can’t we just deal with most of this by ourselves?”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
Luke laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “I said the same thing to Zach. You know what he told me? He said, ‘You’re nineteen and can’t find the bathroom by yourself. Start with that.’ It’s only a tiny thing to change, but if I start with all the little things, pretty soon all of them together will be a huge change.”
Mandy drew in a shaky breath. “Okay. So what little thing do I start with?”
“You’ve already tackled some stuff tonight.” He swung a hand. “Reorganizing the kitchen is a start. And maybe, on top of that, you could pick one other thing to work on.”
“Like what?”
Luke tipped his head, his sightless gaze pinned to her left. “The booze thing?”
Mandy stiffened and pushed off the counter. “It’s getting late. We should wrap this up for tonight. I’ll need to catch up on my work early in the morning.”
“Alcohol in and of itself isn’t evil, Mandy.”
She began putting things back into the cupboard. “Do you have a good fix on this cupboard? Maybe you can make your own hot chocolate in the morning. I’ll give you a crash course on how to punch the minute button on the microwave before we turn in.”
“Dad wasn’t mean because he drank,” Luke persisted. “Stone-cold sober, he would have been vicious. When Mom left, I got everything mixed-up in my head, and that’s when this fear inside me started. Maybe Dad’s drinking got everything all mixed-up inside
your
head, making you just as afraid of alcohol as I am of being left alone.”
Mandy clenched her hand over a box of hot-chocolate mix. “Shut up, Luke. I’m not
afraid
of alcohol. I just detest the stuff.”
“Bullshit.” Mandy whirled to stare at her brother. Luke tipped his head in the other direction. “You
freak
over alcohol. It’s a fright-and-flight reaction.”
“That isn’t—”
“Lie to yourself if you want,” Luke broke in. “Keep running from the damned stuff for the rest of your life. But don’t kid yourself into thinking it’s normal, because it isn’t. People who have a couple of drinks aren’t alcoholics. They aren’t bad people. And you know what, Mandy?”
“No, what?” she asked tremulously.
Luke leaned forward on the chair. “The world won’t end if
you
have a drink. It’s just a liquid that relaxes people. Yeah, some people go overboard with it, but Zach doesn’t. Your behavior at his place was—how did you put it to me?—absolutely
inexcusable
.”
Mandy cupped a hand over her mouth. She was shaking and couldn’t stop.
“You asked where you could start. Face your fears.” Luke grasped the cane and pushed to his feet. “I am, and let me tell you, it’s not easy. I’m scared out of my skull.”
She watched as he tapped his way toward his bedroom. “Where are you going?”
“To bed. And,
no
, I don’t want your help. If I can’t find my PJ’s, I’ll sleep in shorts.”
Luke didn’t slam the door behind him as he entered his room, but Mandy flinched as if he had.
Chapter Thirteen
L
uke dropped a banana into the blender and groped to reposition the lid. Standing at his elbow, Mandy watched as he felt for the far right button to turn the appliance back on. Over the last three days, he had mastered many kitchen tasks, but his absolute favorite so far was his newfound ability to whip up his own smoothies. Mandy still needed to monitor him, but with each passing day, he became more adept.
Just as the blender roared back into action, Mandy heard the phone ring. “I’ll be right back,” she told her brother.
Mandy raced to the telephone stand. The base unit was announcing the name of the caller, but all the noise drowned out the words. She grabbed the portable. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mandy, it’s Zach.”
Mandy poked a finger in her ear and turned away so she could hear. “Hi.” She searched for something else to say. “Are you, um, hating the rain?”
He chuckled. “Better than white stuff. They predict clear skies for tomorrow.”
“Oh, I hope so.” Mandy personally preferred snow to rain. It seemed less gloomy. “When it rains, I hole up in the house and grow moss.”
“Sunshine is on its way, which is why I’m calling.” The roar of the blender subsided, and suddenly his voice came through so defined Mandy felt as if he were in the same room. “I got in touch with Bethany Kendrick, the lady with the riding academy. She’s got some free time tomorrow afternoon. Is Luke interested in going out for a ride?”
“I’ll have to ask him. Can I call you back with an answer in a couple of hours?”
Just then Mandy heard the blender go back on with a strangled
ka-chunk
. Her brother yelled something that sounded more like
arghh
than an actual word. She whirled to see foamy stuff and ice cubes spewing from the blender. Luke was bent at the waist, holding his arms over his head.
“Oh, my
God
! Luke!”
Mandy dropped the phone and sprinted across the kitchen. Ice and foam coated the linoleum. When the smooth soles of her shoes connected with the slick stuff, her feet shot out from under her, and she landed on her rump. Staring up in horror, she saw an ice cube shoot from the churning appliance like a high-powered bullet.
Scrambling to gain her feet, Mandy managed to hit the “off” button. Then she turned to her brother, who was still hunkered down like a soldier under fire. “Are you okay?”
“Got hit by an ice cube on my forehead,” he told her, “but I don’t think I’m hurt.”
Mandy had never seen such a mess. “What on earth happened?”
Her brother gave her a sheepish grin. “I forgot to put the lid back on.”
At the other end of the line, Zach yelled, “Mandy, what’s up? Are you all right?”
No answer. All Zach heard was a roaring sound and Mandy crying Luke’s name. He was about to disconnect and call 911 when he heard laughter, both female and male. His shoulders relaxed, and as he listened to their giggles, he started to smile.