Page 53 of Love, Lies, and Whiskey

Lucas grabbed a can from the cooler, his eyes narrowing. He beaned it at Doc as hard as he could.

Doc dodged it. “What the hell was that for?”

“Dr Freaking Pepper?” Lucas said angrily.

“You don’t like it?”

“You think I don’t know what you and my mom are doing?” he yelled. “I know this was a freaking setup. She didn’t have an emergency. She just wanted us to spend time together.”

“Whoa, Lucas. We would never do that to you.”

“Yeah, right. Like she didn’t tell you that Dr Pepper is my favorite soda?”

“I promise she didn’t. It’s been my favorite since I was a kid. You can ask anyone who knows me.” He held his hands up in surrender, closing the distance between them. “Listen, buddy.”

“I’m not your buddy!” Lucas crossed his arms, his fingers drumming.

Doc’s chest constricted. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is a tough situation for all of us, and we’re in it because people lied to us. We’re not going to make this harder on you by making shit up or forcing you to spend time with me.”

“Then that’s even worse,” he hollered, but there was pain in his voice this time. “That means…” He turned around and cursed.

“What, Lucas? What does it mean?”

He spun around, his watery eyes shooting daggers. “I don’t want to have anything in common with you.”

That cut like a knife, taking Doc aback. “Okay. Would you mind telling me why?”

“Because it’s not fair to him.”

“To—”

“My dad! He didn’t like horses or anything that had to do with ranching. He didn’t like working with his hands or getting dirty, and he’s not here to even try to find something we could have in common. I don’t want to…” He dragged his forearm over his eyes, wiping tears, and turned away. “Never mind.”

His pain was so raw, it broke Doc’s heart. Suddenly Lucas tossing off his cowboy hat made sense. Doc lowered his voice, talking more gently, but not so cautiously that Lucas would think he was treating him like a child. “Lucas, nothing will ever take away the bond you and your dad had. It wasn’t what you had in common that mattered. He helped you become the person you are today. He was there for those formative years, loving you, changing your diapers, putting you to bed, teaching you life lessons that you didn’t realize you were learning. People are made to learn and grow. More people than you can ever remember will come in and out of your life, and you’ll have things in common with a lot of them. But that won’t steal anything from what you and your dad shared.”

“I don’t even remember what we shared.” His voice cracked, his back still to Doc, his shoulders rounded in defeat. “I just pretend to, because I know I loved him and he loved me, but it feels like a story someone told me. What does it say about me, that I can love him and forget those things?”

Shattered for his son, Doc stepped around him so he could see his face. “It says you loved him deeply, and you were awfully little when you lost him. No four-year-old is thinking they have to memorize a face or an activity because they might never see the person they’re with again. You were a little kid living in the moment like you should’ve been. Nobody expects you to remember more than that, and I’ve got to believe Josh is watching over you with pride in his heart, because from everything your mom has told me, and from what I’ve seen, you’re a hell of a strong, caring kid.”

He scoffed. “Strong people don’t cry.”

“Who sold you that line of crap? You think I’ve never cried? You think I didn’t cry when I lost my grandfather, or your mom, or found out I had a son?” That brought Lucas’s eyes to his, but only briefly. “Let me tell you something. You can be tough as nails and cold as ice, and as you’ve witnessed, I can be both, but it doesn’t make me stronger.”

“You seemed pretty strong to me.”

Doc shook his head. “That was me at my weakest. What you saw was insecurity. I was hurt and humiliated because I thought your mother had thrown me away.”

Lucas met his gaze again, blinking away his tears.

“Strength comes from a hundred different things, Lucas. It comes from confidence and compassion and honesty. It doesn’t matter if you’re crying or yelling as long as it’s honest emotion. It’s understandable that you can’t remember things about your dad, but your mom has pictures from the years he was alive. She can share those memories with you, and we can all help keep them alive. She shared some with me the other night on the phone.”

“About my dad?” he asked disbelievingly.

“Mostly about you, but also about him, and it made me even more grateful that you had a mom and dad who loved you when I didn’t know you existed.”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “You really don’t hate him?”

“No. I really don’t.”