Page 30 of Love Me (Charlotte Monarchs Hockey #1)

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. It shouldn’t be hard to put back since there is a designated spot for both salt and pepper, but the base of the shaker is square, and the opening is rounded.

The condiment holder is so old and rusted, it looks like it’s been around since the restaurant opened, and maybe it has.

I can only hope the owners had round salt and pepper shakers when they made the original investment.

“You have to twist it so one of the edges hangs out that tiny opening on the side,” I offer. “It took me a minute the first time I tried.”

Luke glances at me quickly and narrows his eyes. He thinks I’m laughing at him, and I am, but only because I did the same thing the first time I ate here.

“Thought I was going crazy,” he mutters. “Or you were playing a trick on me.”

“Maybe Zorba’s is playing a trick on everyone. Who can figure out the preschool shapes game?”

“I never would’ve figured it out if I were drunk,” he says.

“I bet it’s fun watching people try, though.”

We laugh at the same time.

“Are we experiencing what experts call insta-love?” he asks.

I correct him. “Insta-like.”

“It was insta-lust for sure.” He raises his eyebrows, which makes me laugh.

The silly banter is a welcome break. I never intended for a spontaneous breakfast date to get this heavy, but I like the pieces of information I pick up every time I’m with Luke. Our lives have interesting parallels.

“What makes you anxious about going to Vancouver?” Something’s up with him, and if he wants a real relationship, we’re going to get into it.

Luke looks around the restaurant before he speaks. “Remember when I said drug addiction runs in my family?”

I nod, recalling him telling me that at his condo after I confronted him about the painkillers in his bathroom drawer.

“I honestly don’t know if it does. All I know is my mom’s a junkie,” he says quickly.

I cover my mouth with my fingertips and whisper, “Oh.” Definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Any relationship we had dissolved when I was a teenager. That’s when she chose drugs over me. But even though we aren’t close anymore, she’s my mom. I can’t just forget about her.”

“What about your dad? How does he handle it?”

“My dad died unexpectedly when I was eleven. That was the catalyst that aggravated Mom’s mental illness. Depression sent her plummeting into drug addiction and put both of us out on the streets.”

“Both of you?” I ask, appalled.

Luke lived on the streets?

He nods.

“How’s she doing now?” I ask. Part of me feels bad asking questions as if I’m interested in his pain. But I’m absolutely intrigued by his story. I never would have thought he grew up under such bleak circumstances. He presents himself so well. He’s so successful.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“She cleaned up, right?”

He shakes his head, then rubs his face with both hands as if struggling with how to explain it to me.

“No. I tried everything I could think of. Rehab. Buying her a house so she had a safe place to stay. Moving her to Detroit to live with me.” He shakes his head again and sighs.

“I can’t help her if she doesn’t want to be helped. ”

“That’s true.” I reach out and touch his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“Every time I see her, it drains me. She can’t comprehend that I’m not playing anymore.

Her money train is gone. She thinks I’m a washed-up hack.

” He pauses. “I know how ironic and idiotic it is to care that a junkie thinks I’m a washed-up hack, but it’s my mom.

No matter how badly she treated me or how much she failed me, it’s ingrained in me to make her proud. ”

“I get that, but at some point you have to let go of what makes you think like that,” I say though I quickly regret it.

It’s hard to keep my mouth shut when we’re talking about real circumstances that affect the mental health of the people involved. Enabling a drug-addict mother who hasn’t made an effort to change despite Luke’s efforts isn’t something he should continue.

But that’s not my business.

“I know she’s fucked,” Luke agrees. “But I also know that one day, I won’t get the three-month ‘I need money’ phone call. And I’ll probably go back and find out that she OD’d and got thrown in the Pacific because her dealer boyfriend didn’t want her body around messing up his sales for the day.”

“Geez, Luke,” I say, pulling my arm back and dropping my eyes to my plate.

He grabs my hand again and squeezes it. “I’m sorry, Bree. Sometimes I forget that the brutal reality I grew up with is too harsh for everyday conversation.”

I close my eyes and take a breath, reminding myself that this is a completely different side of drug use than I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen the drug-addicted babies, not the real stories of the mother’s life.

“Last time we met in person, she complained about how much her life changed since my injury.” Luke places an elbow on the table and rests his forehead in his palm. “I don’t even know why I go to see her anymore.”

“Why do you?” I ask. I understand the situation well. It’s not something that’s restricted to drug users. Luke’s mom is using guilt to manipulate her son. And he’s falling right into it.

“It’s my mom. And she’s sick.” Luke’s voice is a whisper as if he doesn’t even know why he’s defending her.

“I’m not judging you, Luke. Please know that. I understand your situation. But if you’ve tried everything and she still won’t help herself, don’t you think it’s time to let her go? At least from a financial standpoint?”

“Well, yeah, I—” He stops, and his gaze moves to the table. “My salary isn’t quite as much as it used to be, ya know what I’m saying? I’m not complaining, believe me, but I’m smart enough to know that I can’t waste my life savings on my mother’s drug habit.”

My heart hurts for him. “I’m not going to tell you not to see your mom, Luke, but her problems are not your problems. Yes, she’s sick, and you’ve exhausted your options. You have to draw a line at some point or she’ll take you down with her.”

He holds up a hand. “I know, Bree, I know. I should have done it sooner. But something inside won’t let me let her go completely. She’s my fucking mom.” He shifts his eyes to the floor. “I guess I’ve finally come to terms with how she is and how she sees me.”

I pause before I say anything. “You deserve so much better, Luke. You’re an amazing man.”

“Please don’t, Bree.” He lifts his eyes to mine, silently pleading for me to stop. And I do.

Through the rest of our breakfast, I keep the conversation light. He already knows what he needs to do and doesn’t need me pushing him. I just hope he stays strong when he comes face to face with his mom.