Blixen, Nelson, Luke, and I were on our second lap around the lake and I was no closer to convincing Luke to let Grace be than I was when we started. He was a very determined man, even more than I’d taken him for, and he was in love with Grace. How did I know this? Because he kept saying so.
Every good and sensible reason I gave him for leaving Grace alone, at least for now, was met with, “I get it. I know. You’re probably right. But I love her.”
He was so earnest and, I think, very sincere. It was hard not to like Luke Pascal.
“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets as we strolled past a big willow tree, the dogs walking much more slowly now, their energy beginning to wane.
“But I do. I love her. I’ve tried to talk myself out of it, believe me. Do you have any idea how inconvenient this is for me? I’m trying to get a business off the ground. That’s what I should be focused on. Instead, I spend all my time thinking about Grace.
“When I first met her, that night at The Fish House, I liked her. A lot. But that was all. We had a really good time and I hadn’t danced in forever. I was having fun and so was she, but that’s all there was to it. But then, during that last dance . . . I don’t know. Something happened.”
He stopped in the middle of the path and pulled his hands out of his pockets. Blixen, who was looking a bit tired, immediately sat down, her tongue lolling from her mouth. Nelson sat down beside her.
“It’s ridiculous, I know that. This shouldn’t be happening to me, not now. I’m thirty-seven years old. This is the kind of thing that should have happened to me when I was eighteen, or twenty-three. But it never did. When Ava and I got married, it was because she was smart, attractive, and it was time. I just figured I was one of those guys who couldn’t fall in love. And that was fine with me. I’d watched a couple of my friends go through it and they looked miserable.
“Now I know just how miserable. Come on, Nan. You’ve got to help me. Please.”
Poor Luke. He really did look miserable. A part of me really did want to help him, but I wasn’t sure I could.
“I’m sorry, Luke. I know this is hard. But you’ve got to understand, Grace and Jamie—”
“Were deeply in love,” he said, finishing my sentence for me. “I realize that. And, listen, when Monica told me that Grace was married and all about Jamie’s accident, I backed off. Yes, I went to find her at the coffee shop, but only to invite her to take the dance class. She really had fun that night and I thought dancing might help her. She was carrying such a load.
“But I would never have laid a hand on her,” he said, raising one of those hands. “Scout’s honor. Miserable or not, I would never touch another man’s wife, Nan. You’ve got to believe me.”
I did believe him. I’m usually a pretty good judge of character and in the previous half hour, Luke had shown me he was a man with plenty of it.
“Luke, don’t you see? Grace needs time to mourn. It might take a year. Or more. There’s no way of knowing. Grief has no timetable—”
“If that’s true, then why does it have to be a year? Why can’t it be a month? Two months? I’m not trying to replace Jamie. That would be impossible, even if I tried. But if I think I can make Grace happy now, why should I have to wait? Why should she? Give me one good reason,” he said. “Just one.”
But when he put it that way, I couldn’t think of one. Sure, there was the “decent interval” argument, but Luke asked for a good reason. Satisfying the expectations and judgments of people outside the situation didn’t qualify.
And Luke had a point, if he could make Grace happy now, what was the virtue of waiting until some far-off tomorrow? How many nights should Grace have to spend alone, how many too-quiet rooms had to press in on her, how many copper pots was she supposed to polish, trying to erase the ache of loneliness, before she was allowed to love again?
Where did these rules come from? And why did we suffer to abide by them?
“Luke,” I said helplessly. “What is it you expect me to do? Grace is the one you need to convince. Why come to me?”
“Because Grace loves and respects you,” he replied. “And because you know her better than anyone. She said so herself. I’m in love with her, but I hardly know her. If I show up at her door and declare my undying love, she’s going to slam it in my face. Even if she doesn’t, there’s no way she’ll believe me. Tell me what I should do to convince her I’m for real? What should I say?”
“Nothing,” I answered. “Don’t say a word.”
Luke frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. Obviously, he wasn’t finding my suggestion very helpful. I gave a little tug on the leashes. Blixen and Nelson got to their feet. We began walking again.
“Two weeks before I left for my freshman year of college, my boyfriend broke up with me. We’d met on the first day of junior high and had been together ever since. I assumed that we’d be getting married after college, so the breakup really, really hurt. It also made me determined not to make the same mistake twice. I decided I wasn’t going to date at all in freshman year. After that, I was going to
