In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod) (26 page)

BOOK: In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod)
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“What kind of
rotten son would bar his mom and dad from the family farm?” I demanded, indignantly. “Say you’ll allow me to adopt you both because Luke doesn’t deserve you for even thinking such a thing.” I added in a coaxing tone, “I promise to double whatever he’s paying you guys to be his parents.”

Damaris
out and out laughed this time, no silvery tinkles. “Oh Anabel, you are such a hoot. I was trying to be the understanding mother and not…you know.”

I giggled. “
It’s true Luke has sort of kidnapped me and we’re shacking up for the weekend, but I think the honeymoon’s over. I’ll be long gone by Sunday.” I confessed sadly, “He chose his workout over me.”

She chuckled
. “Somehow I doubt that, but you should consider yourself lucky. My son can be a little bastard if he doesn’t get enough exercise.” Luke’s mom’s voice was droll, “He gets that from his father.”

Delighted,
I scoffed, “Well, I knew he didn’t get that bad behavior from you!”

We laughed together,
just a couple of women bonding over bashing their menfolk on a sunny Friday morning.

Arriving at
the highway, I checked around quickly to verify the light blue Honda Civic wasn’t lurking in the frozen weeds somewhere, but it looked good to go in all directions.

Heading our truck east, I said,
“Seriously though, the Drake family should all consider staying at my apartment. You’re here for such a short time and you’ll be right in the thick of things without all that extra driving to and fro.”


I’d love to!” Damaris replied instantly. “Luke doesn’t even know yet we’re coming up, so let me run it by the boys and I’ll let you know.”

One of the many traits I’ve come to admire in Luke’s mom
was her lack of dithering. Maybe it’s because we are both busy ruling our own little universes, but she doesn’t question my sincerity when I issue this invitation, or waste our time with the usual drawn out song and dance. It has been that way from the start and was incredibly refreshing.

“Sure,” I responded
and steered the conversation in another direction. “Hey, that picture of the old farm house taken by Beth Drake is pretty amazing. Luke and I had fun talking about the old times when he visited the farm as a boy,” I primed the well casually, “until we got to the high school years.”

“You like that photograph? Ugh, it gives me the creeps!” I laughed at her aversion and she said, “Ben was a great old guy, and
gifted? Boy, there wasn’t anything that man couldn’t do with his hands. You would not believe the spectacular tree fort Ben, Paul, and Luke built in our backyard when we lived in the suburbs.” Mama D’s reminiscing tone sobered. “Ben absolutely doted on Luke and it broke his heart when Luke stopped coming for the summers after eighth grade, but he understood.” She sighed almost inaudibly, but I detected the sadness from four hundred miles away, as if she sat right next to me. “There’s not a good age for discovering the dead body of a best friend after committing suicide, but poor Luke was only fourteen and it affected him deeply. His father and I were very concerned for some time about him.”

My first foray into digging up some answers and
already I felt like a total shitheel.


Of course it would affect him deeply! That must have been a terrible experience for Luke, and for you all.” I couldn’t stand myself and came clean—well, sort of. “Damaris, I didn’t know about Luke’s childhood friend committing suicide. Luke never told me.”

Damaris replied quickly, “Don’t feel bad, dear.
I’ve never known Luke to speak of Tommy Sorensen to anyone, except for the night after his friend’s funeral.” Chagrined, she admitted, “I still feel like a horrible parent every time I remember this happened, but Luke took a bottle of whiskey from Uncle Ben’s liquor cabinet unbeknownst to any of us adults. We were all in the kitchen when he staggered in, obviously drunk, and started wildly yelling. He was also crying inconsolably. Unfortunately, none of us could understand a word he said before he passed out cold in Paul’s arms. I’ve always felt like I failed him somehow because, after that night, Luke clammed up. He refused to talk about Tommy’s death with anyone and has never mentioned his name to us again.”

I thought of
Jazy saying how mothers like to blab nonstop about their sons. Luke’s mother was no blabbermouth, but it hit me that she’s probably never had another woman to share all her anxious feelings with about Luke. Or at least not a woman that was also his girlfriend and cared about her son, too.

From what I underst
ood, Luke went right into the service after graduating high school. He spent every free moment slaving towards earning his college degrees while pursuing his Army career. He had been gone out of the States for much of his twenties and remained single all these years. Proud as parents may be, having your only child off fighting wars on the other side of the globe has got to be super tough and lonely.


As his parent, I’m sure Luke’s clamming up was scary,” I empathized. “I’ve never forgotten how mad I was when my parents died in the plane crash. Nothing in my world made sense. I was a much littler kid than Luke, but I didn’t want to talk with anybody then, either.”

Chief
Jack Banner has the bite scar to prove it. I haven’t seen Jack in a few days and I start feeling bad for the hard time I’ve given him over the years. It’s that Circle of Life thing we’ve got going on and it kicks into high gear in my head, complete with the music from “The Lion King”. This fond, sensitive feeling only lasts until I’m around Jack the next time. Then I’ll need to be mean again because Jack will be his usual pigheaded, chauvinistic self.

Damaris made a soothing noise
and said, “Poor Anabel, you were a little thing, weren’t you?”

I
basked in the caring sunshine of her mothering words. It’s a rare occurrence in my life to be called “Poor Anabel” without sarcasm, and I could get used to being pitied.

“Yes, I was
practically a baby,” I replied with a heavy sigh, “but that was long ago and somehow I survived.”

There
was a smile in Damaris’ voice when she replied, “There’s that fighting spirit I so admire! From a mother’s point of view, I think it’s a positive sign Luke’s talking with you about his good memories of visiting the farm.” Damaris’ heavy sigh echoed my own of a few seconds ago. “Not wanting to talk about a traumatic event is normal, but his father and I were so worried about Luke in high school because he changed so drastically. Luke was always on the quiet, more observant side, but he laughed easily and had a lot of friends. There were always a group of boys hanging around the house playing video games or swimming, and eating us out of house and home.” She chuckled and added dryly, “The girls were starting to swarm around the house about that time, too.”

I snickered. “Tell me that changed in high school!”

“Oh, no,” Damaris agreed ruefully, “but Luke’s attitude did. He went from being a happy young man to very quiet with angry mood swings. Over the next year, he became extremely competitive in all things and aggressive. His grief seemed to get progressively worse instead of easing, so Paul and I took him to a doctor for a professional opinion. Luke was so furious with us for that, but we needed to be sure he wasn’t clinically depressed. Fortunately, he wasn’t. Eventually it got better, but Luke definitely preferred his solitude more than before. He spent more time concentrating on his studies and working out.” Her voice was musing, as she remembered back to those turbulent times. “It was almost as if he had something to prove after Tommy’s death.”


Do you mind if I ask about the details surrounding Tommy’s death?” Not wanting to be morbid, but Tommy’s name had rung a vague bell the first time Damaris mentioned it. I would have been only eight or nine at the time, but these were small towns around here and the suicide of a teen would have been big news.

“No, I don’t mind,”
Damaris answered. “Anabel, it was heartbreaking. The boys had been friends since Luke was about six. Tommy’s dad was friends with Ben and brought Tommy over to play when Luke was visiting. There weren’t many kids in that rural neighborhood around the lake back then, especially boys around Tommy’s age. Those two were fast friends after that and as they got older, spent weeks every summer hanging out.” There was a crack in her voice, “The boys were two peas in a pod and even looked alike. Tommy visited us in Chicago a few times, as well, and was the nicest kid.”

Damaris’
normally cool tone was choking up and I hurried to assure her she doesn’t need to talk about it anymore, not if it’s hurtful.

She clear
ed her throat and said, “No, dear, I’m fine. I just haven’t thought of poor Tommy in a long time. He was so cute—a real charmer. Anyway, it was in August, very hot, and Luke had biked over to the Sorensen farm to pick Tommy up to go swimming at the lake. Luke was in and out of the Sorensen house all that summer, always hauling Tommy out of bed to go do something. That morning was no different. He said hello to Tommy’s folks and ran upstairs,” Damaris’ voice hushed, “and that’s when my son found Tommy dead. He had hung himself.”

“Oh, Luke,”
I murmured under my breath, thinking of his pain, thinking of how it would feel to find Anna. “How awful that must have been to find his best friend. I’m sorry to make you dredge all that up, but I appreciate understanding what happened. I feel so sad for you all, Mama D., even if it was years ago.”

“I won’t deny it was the worst time
of our life as a family,” Damaris agreed grimly. “The Sorensen family is devout Roman Catholic. As you can imagine, not only were they heartbroken to lose their son, but they were anguished that he committed suicide.”

We were both quiet
for a moment, thinking our own thoughts. I also had to pay closer attention to the busier traffic, as I drive into Faribault. The Ford-150 was much larger compared to driving my jeep. I would slink out of town with my tail between my legs before bringing the truck back with even a tiny scratch.

Damaris stated in a no-nonsense manner,
“Like you said, that was long ago and time does heal. Luke survived and grew up to be a fine man any mother would be proud to call son.”

“Amen to that,
” I agreed, cheerfully. “You and Paul did good—real good.”

She laughed lightly. “Yes, thank you, I believe we did.”

We chatted about work and shower gifts before I asked casually, “How’s the condo hunting coming along?”


Svetlana hasn’t found the condo she wants yet, but we have an appointment tomorrow to view a promising property.” Her voice has no inflection when she went on to say, “She worked late every evening this past week and ended up cancelling our showings with her realtor.”

“Hmm,” I responded noncommittally.

“No doubt Luke will appreciate having his condo back to himself, and I mentioned this to Svetlana last night. After all, I’m sure Luke’s impatient to show you off to his friends in Chicago.” I grinned at hearing this, but Damaris wasn’t finished. “Paul and I told Svetlana that we’re all pleased to see her so happy now that the worry of the trial and testifying is off her shoulders. We’re also excited for her to start her new life in her new home.”

‘So this is what mothers do for their children!’
I laughed silently while trying, and failing, to picture Svettie’s sullen face bubbling over with happiness.

I couldn’t resist asking, “Svetlana’s happy
?”

“Oh yes,
I could hear it in her voice right away. She was practically singing,” Damaris replied dryly. “Paul answered the phone when she called and even he remarked upon it afterwards. He’s said Svetlana hinted at having a new boyfriend.”

“Ah well,
there you go, guaranteed instant happiness.”

Damaris and I
chortled together. We ended our call agreeing Damaris would let me know their travel plans tomorrow once she discussed them with Paul and Luke.

Leaving the music off,
I drove in silence. My mind was on Damaris’ story of Luke’s friend’s death. The minute she had said how Tommy was found hanging by Luke, my elusive memories solidified. I’d overheard NanaBel, Mac, and Kenna discussing a boy’s suicide from Faribault around the dining room table when they thought I was asleep.

Alright, I deliberately eavesdropped, but I had warned NanaBel
that I wasn’t tired when she sent me off to bed with the two little kids—at the very insulting hour of only nine o’clock on a summer night.

What I heard caused
my first research on a sexual subject, although I didn’t know that at the beginning. I only remember having a hell of a frustrating time accomplishing this project due to the challenge of spelling something I’d only overheard once and never seen written—autoerotic asphyxiation.

Tossing my phone aside,
I turned right off Lyndale and was soon pulling into a parking space in the strip mall near 1
st
of Thai restaurant. I was having a difficult time erasing the image of a young Luke from my mind, torn up with grief while wasted on whiskey and crying in rage.

I
exclaimed out loud, “Ah, my beloved Dark Prince. What the fuck really happened back then?”

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