Page 44 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

Lucy leans back against the plastic chair and releases a long breath. “I think love takes courage,” she says quietly. “It’s easier to protect yourself. To build walls and keep people far enough away that they can’t change you.”

“And letting someone in?”

“Means accepting they might.”

I nod slowly. “Have you ever read The Thorn Birds?”

“You?” The surprise in her voice almost makes the question sound accusatory.

“No,” I admit. “But I’m guessing you have.”

“One of my favorites. You should read it. It’s about knowing love may cost more than you can afford and choosing it anyway.”

“Is that courage or self-destruction?”

Lucy shifts closer, becoming more animated as she explains. “Sometimes, I’m not sure there’s a clean line between them in fiction.”

“I think I need to give The Thorn Birds a read.”

“I have three copies,” she says softly. “I’ll give you one.”

“You really love books,” I say.

She tilts her head. “That’s not exactly a secret.”

Her answer is so distinctly Lucy that I can’t help wondering how many people have mistaken her quietness for a lack of depth.

I lower my voice. “I don’t mean for escape. You read to understand. To make sense of things.”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

“Oh, good,” a familiar voice interrupts.

We both look up.

“Aunt Joss?” Lucy gasps, jumping to her feet and wrapping her aunt in a hug. I stand slowly as Joss turns to me, extending her hand as though we are meeting under completely normal circumstances.

“Good to see you, hunky football player.”

Heat creeps up my neck. “Good to see you too, Joss.”

“Any news yet?” she asks Lucy.

Lucy shakes her head. “Not yet.”

“Give me a minute,” Joss says confidently. “I’ll find out.”

She marches to the desk, gives Violet’s full name, and asks them to contact Thad.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy mutters, embarrassment creeping into her voice. “She has no filter.”

I brush a loose curl away from her face. “I don’t mind.”

She groans. “Of course you don’t.”

“Are you ever going to explain the Lucky Bennetts?” I ask.

She smiles faintly. “It’s a long story.”