Chapter 23

"You better not be making eggs again," I mumbled as I entered the brightly lit kitchen. It was a nice day but not too hot like the past couple. The air conditioner was off and the windows were open, letting the fresh morning air into the house. It resulted in spreading the scent of whatever he was making on the stove throughout the house. Which suffocated me out of my sleep and left me wanting whatever it was he was making. That was the only explanation as to how I was up this early.

Luke, facing the stove as I walked in, turned to me with a soft smile. "I'm making pancakes this morning," he said. He turned back to the stove as he continued speaking. I sat down at the table. "Do you want hash brows with them or sausage?"

I sighed. Didn't he know me by now? "Uh, I'm going to want both," I said and I saw his smile spread wide into a shiny grin.

After he flipped a pancake on the stove, he glanced over to me. "I should have known," he said in a knowing and light voice. "Both it is!"

There was something different about him today. I'm not sure what exactly it was. Observing him from where I sat, his smile remained there. As he moved about the kitchen, starting to cook up the hash brows and sausage as well as more pancakes, I took him in. He was supporting a worn-down cotton shirt with cotton shorts like he usually is wearing when getting out of bed. His hair was messy and I noticed that the brown strands were sticking in all directions. He obviously got good sleep too; his eyes didn't support any bags. I knew something was up when he started to whistle.

He turned both burners on the stove on high before he took out two more pans from the cupboard. Opening the package of sausage and the bag of hash brows, he dumped each into their own pan. He was cooking a shit ton now. Yeah, now he is catching on!

Now with three pans of deliciousness cooking, he turned the burner for the pancakes down, not wanting to make them all so fast before the other food is done. After that, he turned to look at me and stopped whistling.

"What kind of music do you listen too?" he asked.

"The good kind. Why?"

He walked over to the radio that was on the clean counter. Turning it on, he turned the dial a little to set the volume before going back to the stove, a smirk on his face. I knew why too not a second later. Country music soon filled the kitchen as he flipped over another few pancakes. Aw hell no! A year without music and the first thing I get is this shit? Really?

I covered my ears with a groan, cringing with exaggeration as I buried my head in my arms. "Oh god! Turn it off. It hurts!"

I heard him laugh and I looked up, showing a frown and the pain clear on my face. He looked to me as he leaned against the counter by the sink, eyes amused in mine. "But you said you like the good kind of music," he defended himself.

"Exactly!" I exclaimed, smiling myself. "Not this hillbilly-taking-a-shit stuff!"

"'Hillbilly-taking-a-shit stuff?" He asked, smile growing larger. His laugh filled the room and tangled with the country shit. I hate to say it but his laugh was such a nice sound that it nearly made the music fade from my mind. Nearly.

Along with that deep laughter came his smile and it made me smile at him in return without realizing it. "Yes! That's what it sounds like!"

Once he let his laugh die down, he shook his head and pursed his lips as he checked the stove. While he did that for a minute, I saw he was still smiling and shaking his head; it was amusing to see the effect those words had on him. I loved getting reactions like that out of people. Especially him though because he was sometimes unpredictable.

Once he flipped and stirred everything, he looked back to me. "I'm very interested in hearing just how shit has an accent," he said, raising his eyebrows and leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms.

"What goes on in your mind, I will never know," he chuckled. "So, can I safely assume you don't like country music?"

"Yep."

"Then what do you listen too?"

"Well, the last time I really listened to music, I was just into pop. You know, just mainstream."

"Now that's what I call hillbilly shit. And by the way, country singers don't sound like hillbillies," he said, his eyes challenging me to continue on in this ridiculous fight. I didn't need to prove anything to him; we both knew country is the sound of shit dropping. He just liked that noise I guess.

"Whatever man," I said, standing up and walking towards where he continued to work over the stove. I grabbed a pancake that was stacked on the plate he put the finished ones. Folding it in half as I walked back to the table, I shoved it in my mouth and ate it. And I can't tell you how good it tasted. His only fault was eggs and I would make it my job to make sure he never touched them again.

Sitting down, I glanced back up to him and saw him staring at me. I smirked and said loudly, "Daddy, you are making me uncomfortable! I really don't like when you stare at me!" I said, hoping that by chance Clare was up and in hearing range.

He laughed. "Oh shut up," he murmured as he went back to cooking. "Your mother is probably still sleeping. And I was staring at you because you just shoved a whole pancake in your mouth."

"What, are you shocked to see something that big would fit in my mouth?"

"Jesus Christ, I--"

"Are you happy seeing it did?" I finished, interrupting him. I loved teasing him like that. Because I wasn't sure what his reaction would be. Whether a laugh or cringe. It usually didn't cause much tension when I said stuff like that. But you never know with him. I had a feeling that I could get away with it more today though. He was just up and happy, in a good mood.

His lips tilted up slightly and I could just make out a small blush over his cheeks as he flipped the hash browns and sausage. "Oh my god, it's just not usual to see. Plus, I kind of was hoping you could hold out until everything was done."

"It's your own fault you are taking forever on the food. Not to mention, I am as unusual as they get. You should know that as a rule by now!"

He laughed, looking back at me. "I am almost done," he said cautiously as he looked at me, his expression showing he didn't want any harm. "Just calm down...."

"Calm and I do not go together, Luke." I stated the obvious - as it should be.

Throughout this whole conversation, (or weird ass playful argument) I noticed his smile never left his face. Even if it was just slightly there, it never flattened. A few minutes later, the dude finally managed to finish the intense process and shut the burners off. While he flipped the last of the pancakes onto the plate, he started singing along with the lyrics (shit) from the song playing.

He started to sway slightly with the music as he sang, smiling. Glancing to me after he got the plates out, his smile grew as he sang and he turned around in a dramatic spin to set the plates on the table. I don't think I ever saw him like this before. When I started to wonder why he was so happy today, a possible answer entered my head.

"Well, looks like someone got laid," I said casually after the song was done.

I did not get a casual response. But really, how could I with that statement? The idea had snapped into my mind while I was watching him in thought, wondering what it could be that made him so happy. But really, with complete honesty, I was disgusted with the thought. I didn't want to think about that but it was a good explanation.

His eyes widened as he faced me. He didn't expect that. I took pleasure in seeing I caught him off guard again. He blushed and I realized that was twice today I made him blush. Twice.

He pursed his lips. I also noticed that a small smirk formed when one side of of his lip tilted up slightly. "Um, no," he said a little embarrassed but I was a little surprised at this: he started to look amused.

I kept up my usual mischievous smile, showing I was amused as well. And I was. But for some reason I can't explain, I felt so much relief fill me when I saw the honesty in his eyes. I knew they had sex; I wasn't dumb. But the thought of that being the reason he was happy today - or just assuming they did it last night - it left my stomach in strange knots that I never felt before. Maybe it was because he was more of my friend than my dad. It didn't matter though. I shouldn't have that feeling in me, whatever it is.

Once I knew that really wasn't the reason, I felt free again to once more be open about it. But to him, I knew it appeared as if I were already neutral to the whole thing. "Are you sure?" I asked. "You just seem a little happier than usual."

"Yes!" he said, stressing the words with his eyes. "That is none of your business anyway."

Though he was slightly amused and wasn't exactly mad I asked, there was still more there. An uncomfortable air under that embarrassment. I understood why it would be unsettling; that's why I asked. To see him in that position. I felt satisfied to see him uncomfortable. It made me feel somewhat powerful and in control of my own feelings - which ironically was confusing at the moment because me bringing that up made my own mind spin.

"Yeah, you're right. I should have known. If this was the morning after sex with her, you would have been in the worst possible mood."

He groaned. "The reason I am so happy today is because I have work off today since it's Friday." I forgot about that. He told me before that he sometimes gets Fridays off.

I raised an eyebrow. "Then what the hell are you doing up this early?"

"Making breakfast for Clare. She still needs to go to work."

Yes! Bye bye bitch! Just me and your husband today! Really though, that seemed to have been the case for a while now. After that day we went golfing, we've been hanging out ever since it seemed - or we at least saw each other more than they were together. I think that was doing some good for Luke and obviously me too. Breakfast was the only time we really saw her because when he gets home from work, he usually just hangs out with me. Sure, he sees her when she gets home but he stuck with his commitment to show me a great summer and focus on me.

"That's the only reason you're excited today? Damn, making breakfast for her... you must want her gone as soon as possible. Hell man, I'm with you on that."

He sighed while I got up and made myself a plate of food. "Well... there is another reason," he said, his bright smile coming back and shining at me.

"And what's that?" I said, grabbing the ketchup and sitting down at the table.

"We have all day to do whatever we want. And I want you to choose what we do today," he said before grabbing the milk out of the fridge and turned to to counter, pouring it into a glass.

That was it? Why was he so excited over that? It was just going to be a good day. Nothing really spectacular happened. I shrugged off his strange happiness and started thinking of things that maybe we could do today. But when Clare stepped into the kitchen, all I wanted to do today was find a way to break her; physically and emotionally.

Clare, eyes tired and still looking half asleep, walked into the kitchen. She was wearing a silky pink shirt and flanal pajama bottoms. Even with bed hair, she still looked beautiful. Yeah well fuck her. I wasn't looking forward to breakfast anymore with her here.

When we got home from golfing a few days ago, it was obvious Clare was mad. She said stuff to make Luke feel bad, like how she wanted to go or how it would have been nice if we had left a note saying where we were. I could tell Luke did feel slightly bad about it. He just said he was sorry and that he just wanted to spend time getting to know me. That was one thing that has been really strange between all of us. Luke was splitting his time. He either would be spending time with me or with Clare; not both of us at the same time. That had to make him a little guilty. Especially because most of his time was with me.

Clare wasn't too harsh on him though. I think she understood that she was just lucky he didn't leave her ass. She was thankful he decided to stay, no matter if he was with her or not at that time. So when small things like that happen, she was letting Luke off easy. Which could be an advantage in the right situation.

When she walked into the kitchen, looking very tired, she didn't look to me as she crept up behind where Luke was facing the counter. I watched silently as she pressed her chest into his back, sliding her hands around him. Hugging him from behind, she rested her cheek on his back for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, smiling.

"Good morning my wonderful husband," she said as she was hugging his back.

From where I was sitting, I was able to see both of them clearly, including Luke's reaction. Luke had been smiling all morning and had a spark in his eye, one that held life and happiness and all that other great shit. But when he felt her hug him and heard her voice, I watched as he was staring down at his glass of milk, the true smile there fading slightly. He stared down at the counter and I watched him purse his lips in thought for just a split second.

When he turned around in her arms to face her, he was smiling brightly at her. Except it wasn't the sweet grin he was wearing just seconds ago. It was slightly forced. His eyes found hers and they found that spark again. It was there. It was just much less visible.

He grinned at her and gave her a proper hug. His chin resting on her shoulder as they hugged, I noticed that his smile remained and could tell he was happy to see her this morning. His eyes though stared off into space, deep in thought and internal conflict. I could feel my eyebrows dip in slight wonder at that.

My eyes were not lying to me. He had a lot of love for his wife he was trying to save. He loved her. But that blank stare and overdone smile was enough for me to realize that his efforts were not working. He couldn't help it either. He wished he could just accept all that has happened but he couldn't. This was a large conflict for him.

He really wanted to make it work. I could see it now. Because the wife he knew was not my mother. The wife he knew was someone completely different. Maybe she wasn't fake; I could see she really loved him. But she is fake in the way she is living: with so many lies around her. He loved the mask she wore and was desperate to not see what was under it.

"Well, good morning to you too," he said after pulling back, his blank eyes finding hers and lighting up. He leaned down, gently connecting his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. Sweet for them anyway. Made me cringe in disgust.

When they broke the kiss, I saw something in his eyes when he opened them. Worry and a tint of sadness. He glanced to me and in that small second his eyes met mine, something he said before came back into my head immediately. I recall that he admitted to me things will never be the same.

She glanced to me, smiling. "Good morning Albany," she said politely while also appearing cautious purposefully. She was trying to show Luke how cautious she was with interacting with me now, like she cared.

"Good morning my ass," I said politely back to her with a bright smile. Luke knew not to get mad at me when I would disrespect her. After all, he knows that this is all real for me in my head. She sighed loudly but ignored it, pretending as if she didn't hear that as she turned back to Luke, sporting a sad face. Aw, poor Clare. Like she was even sad.

I saw Luke took a deep breath and looked down to his wife that was glancing out the window innocently. What a fucking cry baby she was coming across as, displaying on her face how sad that made her. I couldn't blame Luke though when he slid his hand up her shoulder and rubbed her back, comforting her; she was a good actor.

She looked up at him and smiled after her eyes landed on the stove. "You made breakfast."

No shit dumbass. I rolled my eyes.

After each of us was seated down at the table, I noticed that I had twice as much on my plate compared to both of their plates. That was one thing I can't get over about myself: I don't gain weight like most women do. I eat all the time and don't really gain anything. Weird, I know. But it was awesome too.

I took the ketchup bottle I snagged from the fridge and opened the cap as Clare and Luke ate. However, with the small snap the cap made, he looked over to me and chuckled. "Really? What is so great about ketchup? And on your breakfast?"

"Hey," I said, pointing my finger at him. He better not bitch about ketchup! It is amazing. "This is the stuff that pushes me over the edge," I said and he looked confused at first while I squirted catchup out on the side of my plate.

"Just please tell me its for anything but the pancakes," he said, smiling.

"It's for the hash browns and the sausage." I put the bottle down and took my fork, speared it through a sausage link, dipped it in ketchup, and took a bit. "Oh yeah, you did good this time! Orgasm in my mouth! Oh, oh, oh!" I moaned while chewing, making him try to stifle a chuckle.

When he laughed though and he looked to Clare, all she could offer was a smile that told us both she didn't care for that at all. She never was good with her temper (or a good sense of humor as far as I knew). Sure, she acted sad before when she first came in the kitchen but she could only take so much before having to show a little of the truth to how she was feelings. Right now, she was radiating irritation. And she did it with such dramatic faces like she was trying to get attention.

She sighed. "That's inappropriate," she murmured under her breath; but don't worry she made sure Luke and I could hear it well.

I snorted and looked at Luke. His smile faded as he looked to Clare, confused and worried. Clare kept her eyes down on her plate as she ate. I could see Luke wanted to question her but he didn't. So I spoke to her.

"I'm sorry my loving mother. But commenting on shit I've said all my life now, just to get your husband's attention, is a little something called pathetic. If you just want him to see how much you are 'suffering' just be a man and say it out loud."

She tightened her lips and knew that she really couldn't get too nasty with me when Luke was right here. That's another great thing with staying here. She couldn't really beat me; I think she found that out the hard way. It would help me defend my case in that she abuses me.

"Albany," she said with a sigh. She gave me a sympathetic smile. "It's just not right to say those things."

"Why?"

"Because it's dirty and not funny," she said, shooting Luke a glare.

I didn't think she knew just how thin the ice was she was walking on was. She new to take it easy because Luke was still here. But she could only let things off the hook so much; she was always about control and having her way.

At that moment, something entered my mind and it made my chest flutter at the idea. She deserved to be threatened and to be scared. "You know what else is dirty Clare? Garbage bags and money. Property isn't too clean either."