Page 6 of The Long Way Found

"Sure, buddy. Can you fold these napkins?"

Marco counted all the way, loud enough so both Mara and Luke could hear him, and when he reached “six, seven, eight,” he added, “Eight for the extra guy Grandma invited from your high school.”

Luke's hands hovered over the silverware. Luke shot Patty a look that said, I can't believe this. She’d invited Jack to dinner without even mentioning it. Of course, she had.

"Jack Garrison?" Luke said, not quite believing it. "Nothing for years, and now twice in one day?”

Mara looked confused, too.

"What are you talking about?" Mara pressed.

"That's who came into The Ridge this afternoon, " Luke explained. " He's starting a temporary job at the university."

Mara raised her eyebrows high and swatted Luke with a dish towel. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I was trying to.”

Patty beamed, saying, "He still seems nice, very polite. And really attractive, if you ask me. He's been divorced for a few years. No kids."

Luke felt the new information churn within him—a turbulent mix of surprise, unease, and sudden curiosity. Divorced. So Jack had been married. To a woman, presumably. He hadn't known that. Maybe Luke had been his only boyfriend. Lots of straight people had someone in their youth they fooled around with before settling into a heterosexual life.

Maybe that’s all Luke had been to Jack. A boyhood fling not to be taken seriously then or remembered much afterward.

That would explain how Jack could’ve left so easily and never looked back.

Or maybe Jack’s just an asshole. Lots of people fall for jerks the first time.

Mara and Luke locked eyes. She smirked.

Luke gave her the knock it off face. But truthfully, he was miffed that Jack was intruding on another of his spaces with no warning, no notice. Just, Hi, I’m back, let’s eat with the family that nursed you back to life after I ripped out your heart and stomped it into pieces.

And why hadn’t Patty warned him? Maybe she’d forgotten the details, or assumed Luke was over it by now and would be happy to see Jack, simple as that.

And it was, of course, her house.

Luke set down the last fork and looked at Marco. Eight years old, with earnest brown eyes and a gap where his front tooth used to be.

"Was he your friend?" he asked Luke.

"Yeah," Luke said, looking at Mara, unable to tell whether she was angry at her mother or worried for Luke. "He was my friend."

"Is he still your friend?"

Good question.

"I don't know yet, buddy."

Marco considered this, then went back to folding napkins with intense concentration.

At 6:05, the dogs started barking. Marley and Pepper both scrambled toward the front door—well, Marley scrambled while Pepper shuffled.

Luke's heart kicked up. He told himself to stay cool.

Then the door opened, and there he was.

Jack filled the doorway. Black blazer over a gray turtleneck, dark jeans, Chelsea boots. He carried a bottle of wine in one hand.

Patty was on him immediately, pulling him into a hug. "Jack! Oh, my goodness, look at you. Come in, come in!"