It’d started, though, with Lucas making the decision to be honest with Jen. To put his wounds and weaknesses on uncomfortable display, come what may. Could he do the same with God? Could he stop hiding?
He ignored Noah’s still-smug expression next to him. Left his phone in his pocket. Bowed his head for the closing prayer.
I’m ready to try again, God. I don’t really know where to go from here, but . . .
But he was willing to try again. To come out from under the shadow of his shame and into the sunlight.
He lifted his head as the pastor finished his prayer, surprised, soothed, grateful for the tiniest of steps forward.
“So, what now?” Noah turned to him as people started filing from the sanctuary at the close of the service.
Should they risk going back to the house? What if Carmen was still there? That couldn’t signal anything good.
“Luke.”
He glanced over to see Sam moving toward them. “Hey. Didn’t realize you were here.”
“Got here late. Sat in back. Jen stayed home?”
Sam was just observant enough that if Lucas mentioned Carmen’s surprise arrival this morning, he’d most likely jump to the quick and accurate conclusion that Lucas had been at the house all night. Probably best to stay vague. “Uh, yeah, she had a late night. A busy night. With sick kids.” He’d just leave it at that. No need to tell Sam about those ten or fifteen minutes after midnight. He’d keep that favorite part of yesterday—er, well, today—to himself.
Or maybe not. Because Noah glanced around from behind him. “Busy. Yep. Sure.”
Sam didn’t scowl so much as cringe. “Don’t want details.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t really have any,” Noah said, pure and vexing nonchalance in his voice. “All I know is—”
“Didn’t I say to can it, Noah? And whatever both of you are thinking, you’re wrong, so just don’t. And what’s more, we’re in church, for heaven’s sake. I think Jen deserves a little more respect—”
“Hey, big brother.”
Saved by his sister. “Kit, awesome. Take me away from this conversation, please.”
She laughed. “Happy to. Want to come to lunch? Beckett’s gonna grill.”
Beckett came up behind her. “I’m grilling every chance I get before winter gets here. Burgers sound good?”
Anything sounded good if it got him away from Sam’s glare and Noah’s sarcasm. Of course, then Kit went and invited both of them, too. But still. It was shaping up to be a good afternoon.
If only Jenessa would check in. Assure him that things had gone okay with Carmen. That she hadn’t received bad news.
But there was still no text as he slid into the truck. He thought about calling, but if Carmen was still there, the last thing he wanted to do was interrupt. But a text wouldn’t interfere too much, would it? Jen could just ignore it if Carmen was around.
Noah jumped in the passenger side.
“Yes, I’m texting Jen. No, I don’t want any of your dumb comments.”
Noah only laughed.
You okay? Any news? I’m really sorry if I messed things up by being there this morning. I’m also sorry if this text isn’t long-winded enough. Check in when you can? Going to Kit’s for lunch.
“You writing her a book or what?”
He tucked his phone in a cup holder and started the truck. “How many times do I have to tell you to can it before you get the hint?”
“I don’t know, but I remember this old Sunday school teacher saying that when something is repeated three times in the Bible, we’re supposed to pay extra attention.”
He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street behind Beckett’s vehicle. “Gotta say, sometimes you surprise me, Noah. For some reason, I never got the impression church was your thing.”
He shrugged. “Because of the tattoos or the sketchy past?”
“Because . . .” He paused. “Actually, I was about to say because you never mentioned it. But when have I ever mentioned my faith, such as it is, to you?” Or anyone for that matter?
“Used to go with my grandma when I was a kid.” Noah shrugged. “And my parents recently started attending. No clue what that’s about. Call me curious, I guess.”
A comfortable silence accompanied most of the ride through town and out to the gravel lane that led to the orchard. Noah had been to the orchard but not yet inside the house Lucas had spent most of his youth in. Such a strange feeling that old farmhouse gave him—happy memories of his grandparents, the sour impact of his father’s absence.
“By the way, Luke, if I went too far in joking—about Jen, I mean—I’m sorry.”
Was the guy out to repeatedly astonish him today? “I appreciate that.”
“It seems like maybe you have something really good with her.”
“Well, it’s pretty new.” He wasn’t even entirely sure what it was, except that he liked it. He liked it.
“Still, I’ve kind of gotten to know you, and it seems like you’re the kind of dude who treats women with respect. I’d like to think I do the same, but maybe the joking was in bad taste.”
He passed the turnoff that led to the main orchard grounds, followed the curve in the road that led toward the house.
“I’d let you off the hook, but if your conscience is bothering you, it’s probably smart to listen to it. That’ll come in handy if you join up with Bridgewell. So how about, if you feel like razzing me, maybe just pick a different topic next time?”
“We’re good, then?”
Lucas pulled into the circle drive in front of the farmhouse. “We’re good.” Huh, had Kit and Beckett bought a new car? A shiny black sedan sat in front of the house.
He pulled the key from the ignition and hopped to the ground. Why were Beckett and Kit just sitting in their truck, looking straight ahead? Maybe that wasn’t their car. Was someone else here?
Noah rounded the truck to stand beside him and they watched as a form rose from the sedan. Lucas let out a gasp as recognition dawned.
And then, startlingly, nonsensically, he and Noah both spoke at once. “Dad?”
16
A tide of cold confusion crashed over Lucas, threatening to completely disorient him as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing, what he’d just heard.
Noah had looked at Lucas’s father—was looking at him still—and called him Dad. They’d just had that conversation in the car about finding something new to joke about besides Jenessa. Was this Noah’s idea of a funny stunt?
No. There wasn’t anything light or teasing in the younger man’s expression. He seemed surprised, serious, and . . .
Noah finally looked at Lucas. Chagrined. Maybe even apologetic.
What is happening here?
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Kit’s voice broke through the waves of jumbled silence.
Dad hadn’t moved from his spot beside the black sedan. He stood with the bearing of a soldier—back ramrod-straight and shoulders braced for whatever was about to come. If only Lucas had any idea what that was. What Noah’s exclamation meant.