Frisk Me(94)

Twelve of the shittiest days of his life.

Jill pointed across the diner to where his mom and sister stood talking to Nonna. “Does this have anything to do with why the women in your family aren’t speaking to you?”

“Oh, Nonna speaks to me,” Luc said. “This morning, in fact, I woke up to see her sitting on my bed where she sang the entire lyrics to ‘I Will Always Love You.’”

Jill glanced up at him. “Dolly Parton style or Whitney style?”

He gave her a look. “Really?”

She shrugged. “There’s a distinct difference. But I suppose that’s not the most important question, is it?”

He remained silent, but Jill didn’t take the back off hint.

“The more important question is how are you going to get them to start talking to you again,” she said, tapping a finger against her pouty mouth.

“They’ll get over it.” He took a sip of iced tea, crunching moodily on one of the last remaining ice cubes.

“Maybe. But will you?”

“Don’t, Jill.”

She ignored him. She might as well be his sister for all she listened to him. “Or, you can see that maybe they’re right. That maybe you’re punishing this Ava woman and yourself for nothing.”

“You are aware that a couple weeks from now, there’s going to be a three-hour special on my life, right?”

She shrugged. “Not Ava’s fault you leaped into the East River to save a Barbie.”

“I didn’t—”

“I know, I know, joking. But seriously, Luc…aren’t you being hypocritical? You can’t on one hand keep telling yourself that you’ve forgiven her, for what was, admittedly, a shitty move on her part, while also refusing to let her into your life.”

“Cops don’t make good husbands, Jill.”

She patted his arm as she eased away. “Now now…who said anything about husbands?”

Shit.

Jill grinned. “Aw, bambino. You’re worse off than I thought.”

“How’s my son worse off?”

Luc and Jill turned around to see Luc’s father standing behind him. Tony was all smiles for Jill, although his gaze never really left Luc.

“Hey, Big T,” Jill said, standing on her toes and waiting until Luc’s father leaned down so she could kiss his cheek. “I was just telling your son here that he’s being an idiot.”

“Something you typically reserve for my other son,” Tony said with a smile. “Not that I disagree. Vincent can be…difficult.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jill said. “We’re just going to pretend that’s not a massive understatement. But don’t think you can distract me from the fact that Luc let a very good woman walk away.”

Luc glared at her. “You’ve never even met Ava.”

“Oh, and whose fault is that?”

Luc’s jaw worked for several seconds as he glanced around the room, looking for someone, or something, on which to fix his gaze. But his eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything. Because the one person he wanted to be looking at was nowhere around. Because he hadn’t invited her. Because she didn’t belong.

“Jill, can we have a minute?” Tony murmured quietly.

“Sure,” Jill said. She grabbed Luc’s hand as she passed. Squeezed. He squeezed back.

Luc stood shoulder to shoulder with his father for several minutes in silence.

“Is she right?” Tony said finally. “About Ava? You let her walk away?”

Luc glanced at his father. “I’d have thought you’d be thrilled.”

His father turned to face him. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“Maybe the fact that you were trying to warn me off of her every time we talked? I thought you’d be elated that she’s out of the picture.”

His father held his gaze before looking away. “I think maybe I was wrong about that.”

Luc’s head jerked back in surprise. His father had always been a fair, if not sometimes stubborn, man, but admitting he was wrong had never been one of his strong points.

“How so?” Luc asked warily.

His father rubbed a hand over his face. “Well, I don’t know that this will translate until you have kids of your own, but when you’re a parent, you can get…crazy. And you can do things you wouldn’t normally, say things you shouldn’t…whatever it takes to protect your own.”

“I know, Dad,” Luc said huskily. “You did what you did about Mike and Shayna because you thought it was right.”

“I’m not talking about that,” Tony said. “I mean, yes, I’d do that all over again, although I wouldn’t have kept it a secret from you. But what I’m trying to say, Luca…being a cop’s important. It’s damned well defined me and this family for decades. But it’s not the most important thing.”

“Dad—”

“I take it for granted,” Tony said, his voice sad. “I have your mother. And you kids. And I forget…I forget that you need space to find yours.”

“Find my what?” Luc asked, even though he already knew the answer.

His father met his eyes. “Your heart. The one who makes you a better cop because she makes you a better man.”