He stared at her from across the table, silence a heavy blanket covering them and muffling the awkward breathing and uncomfortable sighs between them. He couldn't figure out something to say to her, and he mentally kicked himself as he guiltily realized that it shouldn't be so hard to talk to her, she was his wife. Absentmindedly twisting his wedding ring around his finger in his lap, he bit his bottom lip as she finally looked up at him.
Her eyes had been locked on the food placed in front of her, unable to stomach food deep into her gut, and her fingers manipulated the green cloth spread across the table. She knew that if she looked up at him she'd lose it; she was frustrated, not at him, but for him. She was to the point of tears, especially when she glanced across the table at the plate before him and noticed that he hadn't ventured to take a bite from his plate.
He not eating anything made her worry. He'd never not eaten anything, no matter how sick, how angry, or how bummed he was. She wanted to ignore everything in the room but him, tell him stories so beautiful and touch his pain away, but she couldn't do that for the sake of the quiet restaurant.
"She just…"
His voice didn't go any further; he couldn't force even a whisper out, a lob capturing in his throat as he choked back a sob. He shook his head, setting his fork down beside his plate, realizing that he'd moved on and left everything behind him – everything.
"Every time I'm happy and things are good she does this," he sighed, slightly exasperated as his jaw line stiffened at the entire situation. He looked away; wanting to aim his angers and frustration somewhere else besides her…He realized that she wasn't his outlet. "It isn't even my fault. Every time I try to see her, Abby comes up with some excuse. It isn't my fault, is it?"
She didn't know how to answer his question, being conflicted within from being the mother of a child who didn't have his father around, but she knew that in all reality it was both of their fault – maybe even partly her fault.
"Maybe, Luka," she leaned back in her chair, pursing her lips and letting her eyes close faintly sheepish, "maybe it is your fault. But if that's the case then it's her fault, too – and maybe partially my fault."
"What?" He fervently shook his head, narrowing his eyes in her direction. He bit his bottom lip, his emotions flooding with confusion and his heart swelling with love for his wife. He couldn't believe in the deepest corners of his mind that if she were to allow him to be at fault, she'd pin some of the fault on herself as well. "It isn't your fault. You have nothing to do with this."
"But, Luka, I do have something to do with this. You're my husband, and I knew that you and Abby had Lana together before we got married," she shook her head, leaning forward until her chest met the edge of the table and her straightened, blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders. She sighed, gently shaking her head as a tear almost slipped down her cheek. "If I'm keeping you from her then…"
Her voice trailed off as her vocal chords seemed to freeze. She couldn't speak, nor could she believe that the thought was ever entering her mind. She was in love with this man, maybe even more so than she had been before, and it tore her up inside to even think what she was thinking.
"No, Sam, you're not," he spoke firmly, shaking his head just as firm. He looked at her darkly, as though he was a different man, and he shifted angrily in his seat. "Abby's the one that ended things between us, she was the one that told me that she didn't want to be with me."
"Luka, can you blame her?" Sam scoffed openly at him, his eyes narrowing in disbelief immediately as the words left her lips. She rolled her eyes at his anger, breathing in a deep breath to push the anger from her lungs. "You weren't in love with her. You were in love with somebody else."
"I still am in love with somebody else. What's your point, Sam?"
He sighed, obviously confused by her words and he shrugged. He picked up his fork and began moving stuff around his plate, anything to act as a distraction. Neither spoke for quite some time, both remaining uneasy in their awkward silence from across the table.
"I love you," he spoke softly from across the table minutes later, drawing her eyes from her plate in front of her at the sound of his voice. He finally lifted his eyes from the contents of his plate, offering her a smile that was slightly genuine. "I don't ever want to be without you, I hope you know that."
She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting back down until she felt his hand cover hers making her eyes immediately shoot to the contact.
"You don't have to be, and I hope that you know that," she looked at him hard from across the table, stretching her foot out until it met his leg affectionately. She just wanted to let him know that she was there for him to touch, and she pulled her leg back to her underneath the table. "I know that you love her, Abby knows that you love her, and she knows that you love her, but you know how children need the reminder."
He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes boring holes into hers. He pursed his lips together, not knowing how to please them all and yet wishing that he could, himself included. He wanted to be allowed to love his child, to see her when he wanted, and all the while love his wife and his stepson. He didn't know how to do that, or so he believed, and within 2 years he hadn't trained himself to do both at once.
"Look at me," she spoke gently, wishing deep down within her that she could reach across the table and draw his eyes back to hers with her fingertips pressed hard into his jaw line. Her gentle voice was more than enough to slowly draw his eyes up to hers from the table. He sat back, his arms stretched out across the table as he looked at her without emotion. "I love you, and, believe it or not, I love Lana just the way I know you love Alex. I want to do everything that I can to be sure that you can be there for her."
"Sam…"
"Luka, I don't think you get it. You think that I don't want to see you with her, and you think that I'm not okay with you and Abby having a child together. So what if I wasn't? It doesn't matter what I think because nothing should stop you from seeing her or telling her that you love her – nothing. You can talk about her, or you can talk to her any time you want."
"I love you so much," his voice was a whisper as he reached across the table and entwined his fingers with hers, giving her hand a tight squeeze.
----
She collapsed onto the couch beside her teenage son, dressed in her fluffy pajama pants and a gray t-shirt with the words "University of Kentucky" inscribed across it in bold and blue letters, and she pulled her legs up beneath her. Her eyes made a fleeting glance towards the clock on the VCR, and wondered if maybe she'd enforced Alex with a bed time for too long, but she forced the thought away. Her son was growing up, and it was almost time that there were some changes in their house to accommodate him.
"Alex, honey," she muttered gently, reaching out with one hand to play with the shaggy hair at the back of his head and tucking her other hand into her lap, "I need to talk to you about some things."
"Sure," he turned his body towards her, forcing her hand to flee form his hair. Even sitting beside him she felt so small, her once tiny son towering over her much like his father always had with the identical dirty blonde hair that his father had when he was younger and actually working. "What is it, Mom?"
She closed her eyes momentarily, holding back a laugh at the crack of her son's voice. It was the time of his life she'd always feared, the part that he was actually growing up – the years that would shape the man that he would become. He would be a good man, the opposite of the way his father turned out.
"It's just, Luka's really, I don't know how to say it," she sighed, shaking her head.
Brushing back her blonde hair from her eyes, she paused when she felt her son's rather large hand capture her wrist and pull her hand down. He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand, his knee gently touching the seat of the couch. Her eyes shot open as her son let her into his best kept secret, his sensitive side.
"Just say it, Mom. There isn't anything you can't tell me, and you know it. I was there for you all of that time when you thought that you didn't need anybody," he gently reminded, his mother's eyes drifting from his face at the side of his comforting smile. He cleared his throat, wishing that he could get rid of the crack that it would have for an undefined amount of time, and suddenly realized himself how much older he seemed since his mom and Luka had gotten back together. "I'll always be there."
She nodded, breathing in deeply.
She didn't know what had changed him, but she knew that he was growing up too fast for her comfort. She was losing him in the worst way, to his teenage years which only led to adulthood. She pulled her hand back to her lap, the sound of her son's breathing keeping her focused on what had been on her mind, and the sound of the shower upstairs coming on urging her to continue.
"Luka's really going through some stuff, and I don't," she hesitated advancing, noticing in Alex's eyes that he recognized a change in her as well – she was not only a mother, but she'd also become a wife – and he was proud beyond words. Silently, he'd always be there for her if ever needed and, even more than that, secretly, he'd always be there for Luka if it was needed, too. "It's hard to explain, but I don't know what to do and I thought that maybe I'd ask you about some things."
"You can ask me anything," he nodded in agreement, his voice cracking once again. Man that was really getting annoying. The distant thought in her head called out to her, you're 14 – well, almost – son, you shouldn't act like an adult.
"You know what? Never mind, buddy," she smiled gently, dragging her hand through his hair as she pushed upwards to stand from the couch. His eyes followed her as she stood, eyebrows furrowed with confusion beyond belief, and he stood beside her. He looked down at her, his height exceeding hers by an easy half a foot, and she was caught off guard when she realized that he must of grown so much within a 2 year stretch. "My god, you've gotten so big."
"I'm almost 14, Mom," his body was changing, and he was experiencing 'the change'.
"I used to be bigger than you," she laughed in the back of her throat, disbelief in how fast her life had been moving. The water upstairs shut off, and her heart began yearning again because of the struggle that Luka was going through. She didn't know how to help him through it, but she knew that there was someone who could, if only she'd ask. "It seems like so long ago."
"Mom," he laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, "you know you have more to worry about than how tall I am."
"Yeah," she smiled at him politely, tucking her arms into her chest as she felt her son's cheek against her forehead. She turned slightly upon hearing Luka descend the stairs, his body tired and his hair disheveled with wetness. "You take good care of yourself – you hardly need me any more."
"I need you," he laughed, shaking his head slightly and he gave her a squeeze before releasing her completely.
"I'm going to bed, good night," she reached around Alex's waist and squeezed him once before she turned to Luka, "don't forget to get Cujo from the downstairs bathroom before you come to bed."
"Yeah," Luka nodded, dragging a hand through his hair as she advanced up the steps, his eyes following her until he saw the bedroom door close. His eyes drifted back to Alex as he turned on his heel to go into the kitchen. "'Night, Alex."
"Luka," he followed him into the kitchen, Luka pausing from not expecting Alex to follow him, "you're the best dad that a kid can ask for."
"Did your mom ask you to say that?"
He sounded defeated, turning to face Alex and leaning back against the counter of the center island.
"What?" Alex shook his head fervently, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "No…Why would she tell me to say that?"
"Never mind," he shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Luka sighed, moving around the center island to make his way up the stairs. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, turning to face Alex again. "I'm not exactly the ideal father."
"You're the best one I've ever head," Alex's jaw line stiffened as anger flooded through him, stepping hard against the wood floor as he made his way towards his bedroom. What had happened to this man to make him believe something like that? "I just wanted to say thanks for being there when I need you."
What the hell had brought this on if Sam hadn't ever said anything?