Page 83 of The Long Way Found

"That's different. "

"Is it? He is undeniably gorgeous. But he's also one of the smartest, most emotionally intelligent people I've ever met. He built a business from nothing. He's been sober for fifteen years, which takes more strength than anything I did in the Army. And yes, we have plenty to talk about."

Silence on the other end.

"I'm sorry," Anna said finally. "That was out of line."

"Yeah, it was," Jack said firmly. "Luke's had a harder life than either of us and has come through it with more grace than I ever managed."

A brief silence was followed by warm goodbyes.

After they hung up, he sat for a while longer without moving.

She hadn't told him anything he didn't already know, but somehow that was enough, just to check in with her about everything. He'd half-expected or hoped that she'd have some version of the answer, some outside perspective that would clarify the thing he couldn't see clearly.

She’d referred to “the mechanism.” Whenever something got close or rough, he pivoted to a different direction, looking for an out.

He turned that over for a while.

He thought about what Luke had said. We put off difficult tasks, not joy.

He picked up his phone.

Jack didn't know what to write. He texted something, then deleted it; drafted something else. Everything either said too much or too little, either explaining himself at length or being so brief as to communicate nothing.

He finally typed:

“I know you need space, and I'm not trying to rush it. I just wanted you to know I'm trying to figure myself out. No response required.”

He read it twice. He knew it wasn’t a magic bullet, but it was an honest start.

He sent it.

He sat with the phone face-up this time, which was different from his usual habit and felt like a small thing, but it also didn't.

Three minutes passed. Five. He told himself not to watch it and watched it anyway.

Then:

Luke: “Coffee Thursday? That place between here and campus. 10 am?”

Jack stared at the screen.

Two days. Not today, not in two weeks. Thursday.

He typed back: “I'll be there.”

He set the phone down on the couch cushion, screen up, and looked at the ceiling. He'd come to Calder Ridge for reasons he hadn't fully admitted to himself. And against all his training, he'd found himself needing something of someone.

Of someone who needed him, too.

Thursday. Two days.

He could do two days.

And it was almost time to meet the parents.

CHAPTER 31