“Good to be here.” Luke glanced around, thankful he didn't find Ray Townsend. He hefted his duffel bag onto his shoulder. “Let's get home. I can't wait to see the place.”
The house was pretty much the way Luke remembered it. There was a small addition and a shed Ray had built to store his hunting and trapping gear. Luke managed to get through the welcome from Ray, but the greeting was tense. He kept reminding himself that the time had come to forgive, to put everything in the past, and to begin living in the present.
He'd allowed himself to grieve his father's death as the chaplain had advised him, and he'd spent hours praying and asking for a heart of forgiveness. He'd even tried to see Ray Townsend through God's eyes, but he could still feel the anger and sense of betrayal. Maybe he wasn't able to forgive. “Just stay in the Word,” John Atwood had said. “God will walk you through it. You'll see.” Luke wanted to believe him, but it wasn't easy when nothing seemed changed. Maybe he was just being impatient.
That evening Mattie, Adam, Laurel, and William joined the family for dinner. When they'd all gathered around the kitchen table, it hit Luke that he was actually home. It felt so good that his face hurt from smiling.
His mother hummed as she prepared and set out the meal. When everyone was seated, she looked at Luke. Eyes shimmering, she said, “I can hardly believe you're here.”
Everything seemed perfect. Then Ray sat at the head of the table with Jean at his right, just the way his father used to do. The bitterness started to rise. Ray didn't belong there. Then when Ray led the prayer, Luke's ire increased. Disappointment intertwined with his bitterness. Things weren't as he had imagined. Life here would never feel right.
“So, are you going to be sent back to duty or stay put?” Ray asked.
Luke took a slice of bread and buttered it. “I figured I'd stay put for a while. The army doesn't want me back out in the field. Guess the amnesia I had makes me unreliable.” His tone was prickly. He set down his knife and took a bite of the bread. “Good, Mom. Just like always.”
“Thank you.”
“So, what are your plans?” Ray asked.
Luke didn't want an inquisition. He just wanted to eat and enjoy his family. With a heavy sigh, he placed his elbows on the table, looked at Ray, and pushed his tongue into his cheek. He wanted to tell the man it was none of his business, but rather than hurt his mother, he said, “Don't know for sure.” He turned to Mattie who sat beside him. “I do know there's gonna be a wedding though. Me and Mattie are going to set up a home and raise vegetables and kids.”
Mattie blushed.
“I thought you wanted to go back to Seattle, Mattie,” Susie said.
“You don't want to live here?” Luke asked.
She set her fork on her plate, then took a drink of water. “I was thinking that maybe we could move to Seattle. Can we talk about it? Later?”
“I thought you'd come back for good.” Luke felt a flutter of fear. “I thought you were happy here.”
“I haven't been unhappy exactly, but you know how I feel about living here.”
“No. I guess I don't.”
“Luke, let's talk about it later,” Mattie said. Obviously she didn't want to discuss something so important in front of everyone.
Others at the table tried to busy themselves with the meal.
“Sure. Sorry. I guess I've been in the army so long I forgot my manners.” He pushed his fork into a pile of mashed potatoes, but his appetite was gone. Would this be the end of him and Mattie?
“So, when is the wedding?” Laurel asked.
Luke didn't answer right away. “We talked about getting hitched right away, but I want my shipmate, Barry, to be my best man. He can't get here for a few weeks.”
Mattie smiled. “And my friend Meryl needs to arrange for time off from work.” She glanced at Luke. “If the reverend can do it, we were hoping to get married in about three weeks.”
Maybe it'll be all right, Luke thought and lifted Mattie's hand and kissed it.
“How can you possibly put together a wedding in that little time?” Jean asked.
“We want it very simple,” Mattie said. “Just our closest friends and family. No big fuss.”
“Well, I guess we can try.” Jean didn't sound convinced.
Adam speared a piece of roasted moose. “I was hoping I could write a story about your war experiences, Luke.”
“Sure. I'll tell you what I can remember.”
“I was thinking your amnesia would give me a good angle for the story. Having you back is pretty much a miracle. While you were trying to figure out who you were, we were mourning, thinking you were dead.”
“It's a miracle for me, that's for sure. When I was in the water with burning oil all around me, I thought I was a goner.”
“Now you're here to stay, right?” Brian asked, glancing from Luke to Mattie.
“I don't know. Maybe. That was my plan.”
Mattie kept her eyes on her plate.
“We can have a reception here at the house.” Ray captured Jean's hand in his. “Would you mind having it here? Seems right, you two getting hitched at home.”
The term at home hit a nerve in Luke. It wasn't Ray's home. Pictures of him and his father working on the place reeled through his mind. In the beginning they'd come every day, clearing away the wilderness, tilling the earth, and laying timber for the house. Luke could almost smell the aroma of freshly sawed lumber, see the strength in his father's hands while he held a form in place and drove home a nail. This was not Ray's home.
“Luke? Luke?” Jean repeated.
