Page 13 of The Long Way Found

“He’s already here. Follow me,” she said, leading Luke to Jack’s table. It was toward the back, near a corner, but not hidden at all.

Jack stood as Luke approached the booth. They looked at each other for a moment, and both seemed unsure what to do with their hands.

Handshake? Hug?

Luke watched Jack's face. The slight uncertainty, the way his shoulders were tight. Twenty-four years later, and they were both as nervous as teenagers.

Jack extended his hand. Luke took it. Their grips were firm and eager, lingering a touch longer than normal. Jack's palm was warm and slightly rough. The handshake lasted three, maybe four seconds, long enough for Jenny to smile and walk away.

Luke enjoyed the delicious anticipation as they sat and smiled at each other.

“Jack Garrison…” Luke opened.

“Luke Calder… How are you doing with all this?”

“All this? Seeing you out of the blue after 24 years? Almost jumping each other at the gym? Candlelight dinner…? I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

They both laughed, which broke the tension.

“What’s good here? I’m famished.”

“This is Calder Ridge’s best classic steakhouse, so I’d recommend a bone-in ribeye,” Luke said. “Unless you’re one of those vegetarians or something.”

“Ha. Not likely.”

“Good. Because Delmonico’s is a rare holdout against tofu entrees and vegan-friendly options!”

“Good! I eat meat,” Jack said, sounding like Arnold’s Conan the Barbarian.

They caught eyes again, Luke with his eyebrow up skeptically, and burst out laughing.

“Sorry,” Jack said. “That didn’t come out right.”

Jenny returned, took their drink orders, and explained the evening special. Something about trout—no thank you, Luke thought. Jack ordered a Heineken; Luke chose iced tea. He wondered whether Jack would ask why he skipped alcohol. Sometimes people did. Savvier folks let it go without comment.

Jack gave no sign he noticed or cared about Luke’s drink order.

Their drinks came, and Jack raised his glass. “Should we toast?”

“Absolutely,” Luke said.

“To what…?”

Luke thought for a moment. To second chances? To not blowing this? To twenty-four years of wondering?

He could hear Norah Jones singing “Don’t Know Why” and the pops and crackles from the fireplace across the room.

“To this, of course,” Luke said. “Tonight.”

They clinked glasses and sipped, their eyes still locked. The iced tea was cold and bracing. Jack's eyes were warm. Luke felt the moment shift from nostalgia and attraction toward possibility.

"Can I say something?" Jack asked.

"Of course."

"I’ve been wanting to say this for a long time. Years, really,” Jack began. “I’ve always felt terrible about how I acted when I left, and after… For checking out like that. For never coming back or even trying to stay friends. And I’m sorry. Really. I always have been.”

Luke was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowing as he listened to Jack’s words and chose his response. He wanted to do the right thing and accept the apology without flippantly dismissing the heartache he had endured over the years. Then, with a breath, he reached across the table and squeezed Jack's forearm once, brief but firm.