“I know,” she says softly. “After all, she takes after her Nana.”
I look up at that, and she winks at me.
“All I’m saying is that you should give yourself time. Of course, you feel restless, bored. You’re finding a new pathway in life. Anyone in your position would be pissed off, Lukas.”
I cock a brow at her cursing, and she rolls her eyes at me. “I’m seventy-eight years old, I could run circles around you, son.” I bark out a laugh at that, and once it fades, she’s back to staring at me. “It’s okay to admit you’re mad. No one will fault you for that.”
I soak in her words, nodding slowly. She’s right, I know that. But I’ve never been the type who liked waiting for life to happen. Baseball found me at a young age, and once I realized I had a chance, I ran toward that dream with all I had.
“You know, you remind me a lot of my Edward.” She nods to the framed picture of her late husband up on the wall. Their wedding photo sits in the center, surrounded by frames of various shapes and sizes of the life they created together. Thewedding photo was always Magnolia’s favorite. Nana is dressed in some lacy collared gown, and her grandpa is in his military dress blues. “Stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be, but a good man underneath it all.”
I’m about to interrupt her, to tease her for picking on me, but she holds up a hand to halt me. “He had a lot of pride, too much, at times. He was motivated by it, which meant he did everything he could to provide for us, to defend his country. Too much pride, however, can make us self-destruct. He was always so hard on himself; always holding himself to a level that no one else held him to.”
I remember the day Magnolia’s grandpa passed away. He had cancer, and we all knew it was coming eventually, but didn’t know it would happen so fast. Maybe it’s the pride that Nana talks about, because up until the last day I saw him, he looked strong. Held himself strong. He never asked for help, rarely took it if it was offered. If we didn’t know about the diagnosis, we would have never known something was wrong.
As a teenager, I admired that about him. I wanted to be like that, to be able to hold it all in even when I was crumbling, to stay strong for my family, but I can see Nana’s point of it all.
“You feel weak right now, but that’s okay,” she says softly. “You will find your way, Lukas. You will still find a way to support yourself and Magnolia, to be happy. Don’t let your pride leave you feeling inadequate.”
She reaches for her cup of coffee that has likely run cold by now, bringing it to her lips for a sip. Once the liquid passes her lips, she grimaces, setting it back down. “The least you could do is get an old lady a fresh cup of coffee.”
I smile at that, rising from the couch and sauntering over to her. I reach for the cold cup from her hand, but before I pull it away, I lean over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nana.”
CHAPTER 10
Lukas
Isnag the last honey ham from the open cooler, tucking it under my arm. At least my mom will be happy. She’s invited what feels like half of Copper Ridge to our Thanksgiving dinner, and apparently, the other twelve pound ham, eighteen pound turkey, and every side dish in her worn cookbook won’t be enough to feed everyone.
I trudge along to the register, and as I wait in line, my eyes glance toward the entryway. A man in a military uniform is setting up a small table, attaching a red banner with the words U.S. Marine Corps Recruiting Service sewn into the fabric. He stacks a pile of brochures, and when his gaze flicks up to meet mine, I look past him to the glass windows and see the wind kick up, whipping snow flurries across the parking lot.
I forgot how fucking cold Copper Ridge gets in the winter. I took my time in Florida for granted, and somehow became one of those people that complains when it’s sunny and fifty degrees when I should know better.
My eyes flick back to the recruiter to find he’s still looking at me, and I quickly avert my gaze, taking a step forward to rest the ham on the conveyor belt.
“And how is Mr. Hart doing this fine Tuesday afternoon?” Shelley, the cashier, asks. Shelley has been working at this store ever since I was a toddler, when I would follow my mom or grandma around as they did the weekly shopping. She’d always keep a stash of suckers or stickers behind her register, and if she was working, we knew we had to behave in the store if we wanted to get one at the checkout.
“Just fine, Shelley, and you? How are the grandbabies?”
“Keeping me young,” she jokes, scanning the ham. “That’ll be twenty-one dollars and eighty cents.”
I swipe my card through the reader as she bags the ham, and when she hands it back to me, I reach for the handle, only for her to tug it slightly back. “I’m sorry to hear about your shoulder, Lukas, we all are.” Her voice is low, low enough that the conversation is only for the two of us, but my eyes still flick to the side to see if the person next to me is eavesdropping.
I shrug the best I can, pretending her words don’t sting. “At least I had my chance, many don’t get that far.”
She nods once, as if she doesn’t quite believe me. Hell, these days I don’t believe me either. “Have a happy Thanksgiving, Shelley." I nod politely, taking my receipt from her outstretched hand and tucking it in the bag. With the ham in one hand, I spin toward the exit, ready to get the fuck out of here and get home before I run into anyone else that wants to talk about my failures.
I nod politely at the recruiter, but before I can get past his table, he reaches a hand out to halt me. “Ever thought about joining the military, son?”
“Ah, no thanks. That’s not for me.” I try to brush him off with a polite smile, but he stops me again.
“A young, strong guy like you is what we need. How about you sit with me? No pressure—give me five minutes of your timeto tell you what it’s about. If when that five minutes is up, you can still tell me it’s not for you, then I won’t keep you.”
I ponder his suggestion. I’ve never once thought about joining the military. A few of the guys in my graduating class in high school did. Marines, Air Force, Navy. From what I have heard around town, they’re doing fine. It was never a thought in my mind because my only thoughts were on baseball. I was foolish enough to think I'd play the game for the next ten or fifteen years, retire as a millionaire in my early thirties, then move back to Copper Ridge with Mags and start our family.
A foolish fucking thought, something a kid would dream of. Someone who thought he was invincible.
“I had shoulder surgery,” I tell him, lifting my right shoulder and rotating it slightly. “I was a baseball pitcher, tore my labrum.”
