AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“When is it?” Lucas asked his mom.
“The same time it always is. Two o’clock, otherwise it’s like any other meal.” She rolled her eyes.
“I have practice until two,” he said, looking forward to his mom’s fluffy mashed potatoes, his grandma’s sweet potato casserole with the mini-marshmallows and pecans sprinkled on top, and the weird cranberry and cabbage Jell-O salad his aunt always brought. And the turkey, but only if his dad or sister were in charge. His mom still hadn’t mastered the art of the bird, but why should she when Lucas ate the leftovers down to the bone?
“Come when you’re done. There will be lots of leftovers.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze.
“She needs to use the bathroom,” his brother said, transferring the little girl into her mother’s arms. “Where is it?”
Lucas pointed to the end of the hallway, saying, “That way, then turn left. I think.” His dad and brother looked anxious at his uncertainty. “I’m not usually looking for the ladies’ room. But they can’t get lost. Don’t worry.” His brother looked relieved as he watched his wife and daughter work their way through the crowd, but his dad looked heavenward, as if asking God why he’d given him such a dope of a son.
That does it, he thought as something snapped in him. Lucas was done with his father treating him like a second-class citizen just because he wasn’t born first. He was freakin’ awesome and had done a hell of a lot more than his brother had. Lucas was done being content with just the scraps of his father’s attention unless it was game day. He, too, wanted to be treated as the family’s prized pig.
“You didn’t tell me you’d put an offer in on Brewster’s,” he said to his dad, surprised at how casual his voice sounded. His dad’s eyes widened, but then he shrugged.
“It’s not your concern.”
“But it is. I’m the one who brought you the location and the idea of me and Lilliana running a restaurant there.”
His father huffed and shook his head. “Your job is football, not the farm. How many times do I need to say it before it gets through that thick skull of yours?” He didn’t wait for Lucas’s answer. “We have the farm well in hand. You don’t need to worry.”
“But I do.” His father acted like Lucas would play until he was an old man, but that wasn’t the reality of professional football. If he stayed relatively injury-free and at the top of his game, he might have another ten years in him. And then what? Live off his savings on a beach somewhere? He wasn’t wired that way.
Lucas needed to contribute. To be part of a team. Being involved in the farm now guaranteed his place in its future. But his dad didn’t get it. Guess I’m not the only one with a thick skull.
“Focus on what you’re good at. The Tetons are doing well. Better than the pundits predicted. Wouldn’t it be something to take the division?” His father looked so hopeful. No one had expected this young franchise to have a good season, let alone have one of the better records.
They were well-balanced between defense and offense. His line had worked hard to not collapse and to protect Bash so he could connect with the receivers. And Bash had worked hard on pulling them together to work as a team.
Bash had made time to talk to everyone. Learn their partners’ names and what they did for fun. He’d even hosted several low-key, potluck type team parties at the house. But it wasn’t natural for him, and Lucas spent a lot of time prodding, supporting, and encouraging him. I need my own set of pom-poms.
Lucas nodded his head. Arguing with his dad wouldn’t get him anywhere. He just needed to be patient and pray that it all worked out. “You remember the truck I mentioned?” his dad asked. “The one that needed new tires?” Lucas felt a slight prick of guilt at not transferring the money.
“Needs a complete overhaul now. Been in the shop twice in the last few weeks and now they’re saying it needs a new tranny.” His brother finished the story sounding disgusted while his father looked annoyed.
“I remember,” Lucas said slowly.
“I think we should buy a new truck.”
“You mean, you think I need to buy you a new truck,” Lucas corrected his dad, not caring that his brother overheard. Surely, he knew how much Lucas contributed financially.
“It’s how you can help the farm.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to grow it? Diversify it so you didn’t need my cash to support it? That’s the reason I suggested the restaurant.”
“We don’t need your suggestions.” His dad tossed his hands in the air.
“No, you just want my money.” JJ, the peacemaker, reached for him, but Lucas stepped back, saying, “I gotta go. Say goodbye for me, okay?”
Lucas turned up his collar as he walked toward his truck, reviewing the conversation. He’d said what he’d needed to, but he still didn’t know if they’d put an offer in on Brewster’s. He’d bluffed when he’d asked his dad. Lucas had gone on a fishing expedition with his assumption, but his dad hadn’t bitten. But it would explain the need for a new truck, he thought as he waited for his truck’s heat to kick in.
They’d replaced transmissions before. His father wouldn’t give up so easily on the old farm truck unless he knew they needed something more reliable and road worthy. The faded red truck with the logo on the door was good for short trips and bumping around in the fields, but it wouldn’t make the hour-long drive to Cascade City very well. Damn, now what do I do? He backed out of his parking spot. Do I share my suspicion with Maggie, or do I keep my big mouth shut? Lucas didn’t know the answer, but he knew a no-win situation when he saw one. The question was, which situation could he recover from?
Chapter 20
Lucas’ phone pinged. Lunch is ready. Three replied immediately with the thumbs-up emoji. Lucas set aside the hive frame he was repairing and responded to Barbara he was on his way. He didn’t know what they were having, but he didn’t care. Working on the frames all morning had worked up an appetite, or it could have been thinking about Maggie and all their kissing last night when he’d stopped at her place after visiting patients at the VA Hospital.
Probably shouldn’t be thinking about that before I sit down to eat lunch with her grandparents, he scolded himself as he scrubbed his hands in the small bathroom tucked under the stairs. Lucas dried his hands and carefully straightened. He’d left a small dent in the ceiling’s drywall the last time he’d been in here, forgetting that the family called it the why-bother bathroom for a reason. He’d had a doozie of a headache for the rest of the day.
