Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)(80)

“Word, nephew. Word.”

“Did you ever ask her for a divorce before?” he asked.

Joe nodded. “When Bryce was about eight. She said she’d move so far away I’d never see him. We signed a prenup, did you know that? At the time, I was the one who was supposed to make more money. But I signed one, too, and as luck would have it, she became the breadwinner.” He sighed. “And then your dad died, so things got more complicated.”

Two boys to raise, in other words, instead of just one. So Joe had stayed. For him and for Bryce.

“I’ll take care of things, Joe. Don’t worry about anything.”

“I know you will, son.”

At the word son, Lucas had to look down at the table.

“Ah, Lucas. You know what they say,” Joe said, covering Lucas’s hand with his own. “Only the good die young.”

* * *

THE NEXT DAY, the news wasn’t what Lucas had hoped to hear.

“I do understand, I really do,” the attorney said. “But given the time frame, it’s probably not possible. If it were uncontested, that would still be tricky, though I know a judge who might do it, given your uncle’s health. As it is, though, I can’t see it happening.”

Lucas was in Ithaca to see the attorney, who’d been recommended by an old college friend. New York required a yearlong separation, and Joe didn’t have nearly that much time. The law didn’t make exceptions for a man who just wanted to die without being shackled to his bitchy wife.

The lawyer frowned. “Think we could prove cruel and inhuman treatment?”

“Probably,” Lucas said, thinking of Joe’s dark little room off the kitchen.

“Being a bitch doesn’t necessarily equal cruel and inhuman,” the lawyer said, reading his mind. “Has she had an affair that you know of?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” She sighed. “I wish I could help you.”

So that was that. Too freaking bad, because Lucas wouldn’t have minded seeing the look on Didi’s face when she was handed divorce papers. And the look on Joe’s when he could be free of his pinched, sour wife.

Well. He’d be free soon enough.

Lucas walked out to the parking lot. He had to check in on the public safety building; the foundation had been poured, and the framing was well under way. He could also bring Bryce to Jeanette O’Rourke’s house and get him started on some sanding—the bridal store job was only part-time. Hopefully, Bryce could handle that without injury.

His phone rang. “Hey, Joe. What can I do for you?”

“I hate to bother you, but I was wondering if you could come get me. I’m at dialysis, and Didi’s an hour late. She’s not picking up on her cell or at work.”

He sounded exhausted. “I’m about an hour away,” Lucas said. “Bryce isn’t around?”

There was a pause. “I called you first. I’m sorry. I should’ve thought.”

“No, no problem. I’ll call him right now and call you back.” Someone would have to help Joe into the house and into bed. A cab wouldn’t cut it, if Manningsport even had cabs.

He hit Bryce’s number on his contacts list. It went right to voice mail, indicating the phone was off. Called the house phone; the answering machine picked up. “Bryce, if you’re there, pick up the phone. It’s Lucas.”

Nothing.

Shit.

Lucas rubbed his jaw. He only had one option. A second later, he made the call.

“O’Rourke’s, home of the best damn nachos on the face of the earth,” she sang merrily.

“Colleen, it’s Lucas.” His voice was tense, even to his own ears.

“Everything okay?” she asked instantly.

“My uncle’s stuck at dialysis, and I can’t reach Bryce. Is he there?”

“No, sorry, he’s not. I can go get Joe, though, if that’s what you need.”

He paused only for a second. “That’d be great.”

“You bet. Connor! I have to run out. Have Monica come in and cover for me, okay?”

“Thank you,” Lucas said. “I’m in Ithaca, but I’m on my way.”

“Don’t drive like a maniac,” she chided. “I’ll take good care of him.”

“I know.”

There was a pause. “Okay,” she said, and her voice was softer. “See you later.”

* * *

“COME ON, YOGI,” Colleen said to her sister. “We’re off to be angels of mercy.”

“Okay,” Savannah said instantly, sliding out of the booth where she’d been drawing. “What’s an angel of mercy?”

“It’s us. My friend is sick, and he needs a ride home from the hospital. And boy, is he gonna be happy to see you. He loves kids. Especially the smart, nice kind.”

They got into the car, stopped to get Rufus (Joe loved Rufus, and who didn’t?). The dog climbed gently over Savannah in the backseat, making her sister laugh; the kid adored the monster.

The hospital was fifteen minutes away. Colleen kept up a stream of chatter, but her heart felt tight.

Poor Joe.

And poor Lucas. He’d sounded so...worried. Worried and clenched and...and grateful.

That warm, dark chocolate voice of his should be illegal.