One Good Deed Part 9

"It could be because he was there and feels partially at fault. But he wasn't the one who pulled the trigger."

"No," Franz said. "But he was the one who found the gun and was playing with it. Did you and Vince ever talk about what happened that day?"

"A few times, but he never really wanted to talk about it and would always change the subject. Not that I wanted to talk about it much." Peter looked around the office, his gaze settling on a small statue of a horse sitting on one of the bookshelves. "As a kid I used to hope that if I never brought it up, they might start to forget. Of course that was dumb, but I was a kid."

"What did Vince say when you talked to him?"

Peter closed his eyes and tried to remember. They hadn't talked about that day in years. "I guess he said once that he was sorry he'd ever found the gun."

"But nothing about you shooting your dad?" Franz asked. "I mean, did he ever actually say you did it?"

"What are you getting at?" Peter asked, snapping his head around.

"Nothing. I'm only asking questions," Franz said. A small timer went off, and Peter exhaled. "I'd like to try something for our next visit. See if Luka will be willing to come to the appointment."

"Sort of a group session?"

"No. We're going to try a few exercises, and if you're okay with it, I'd like there to be someone with you whom you trust. It's up to you, of course."

Peter nodded. "That would be fine. He knows I'm speaking with you, and he's remarked on the difference in me."

"And what difference is that?" Franz asked.

Peter hesitated. "The best I can describe, it feels like I can breathe freely. Like I'm not always walking on eggsh.e.l.ls."

"Then if nothing else comes out of this, you've been helped."

Peter nodded. "Most definitely." He stood up, and as he always did, shook Franz's hand and got ready to leave.

"Please think about our next session."

"I will," Peter agreed and walked toward the door. "Thank you for doing this."

Franz smiled at him. "You're most welcome." He stood as well. "This has been good for me as well. I got into psychology to help people, but these days I spend most of my time pus.h.i.+ng papers." He opened the office door. "Take care, and I'll see you on Thursday."

Peter left the office and then the building, heading to the parking lot. He got into his car and drove back to work. He'd just reached the building and was pulling into the only parking spot available in the lot when his phone rang. Peter finished parking and placed the car in park before seeing who it was. He groaned when he saw the number.

"Hi, Mom," he said when he answered it.

"I'm going blind," she told him.

Peter stilled completely and waited for more. His mother could be dramatic.

"Okay... what exactly did the doctor say?" Peter asked cautiously. "What exactly was the diagnosis?" His mind s.h.i.+fted to programs he could send his mother to that would help her adjust to her new sight-challenged state.

"He said I'm developing cataracts and should no longer be driving. That's why I need rides everywhere. They want to schedule surgery." He could hear the fear in his mother's voice. She had had appendicitis a few years ago and had nearly died because she kept insisting she was going to be fine and would not let anyone "cut into her."

"Cataracts are easily treated, Mom. I think they do one eye and then the other," he explained. "It's no big deal, and once it's done, you'll be able to see like you did years ago, and then you'll be able to drive again." He was trying to be reasonable.

"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one whose eyes they want to cut into," she snapped. "Someone will have to stay with me while I'm recovering, and I can't ask Julie because she's busy, and Vince has the kids...."

"Mother, Julie lives with you. Of course she can help take care of you."

"Well...," she began. "I hate to ask her. So I thought you could come stay with me for a few weeks."

Peter took a deep breath. He hated it when his mother and sister asked him for things like this. He knew his mother just wanted him around to fetch and carry for her, as well as listen to her complain about everything, including him.

"No, Mother," he finally said. "I can't move in with you for a few weeks. I have work, cla.s.ses, and appointments. Traveling in from Mequon through rush-hour traffic every day isn't practical when my clients are in the heart of the city."

"I need your help and you're telling me no?" she asked. "You, of all people...."

"That's enough of that, Mom. I can't do it, and Julie most certainly can. I can help take you places if you need, but you'll have to make arrangements in advance," Peter said, and some of the pain he'd been carrying slipped away. Some. Some. He still felt guilty for telling her no, but he pushed it aside as best he could. She wasn't being reasonable, and Peter had no doubt his sister would try calling as well. "I love you, Mom, but I'm not going to be your guilt-filled pushover any longer." He smiled as he got out of the car, locked it, and headed inside his building. "I really hope you have the procedure. It will help you see and give you back some of the independence you've lost. Let me know when you're having it done and I'll be there to support you. But Julie needs to help as well. Now, if she wants to get her own place, then maybe...." He still felt guilty for telling her no, but he pushed it aside as best he could. She wasn't being reasonable, and Peter had no doubt his sister would try calling as well. "I love you, Mom, but I'm not going to be your guilt-filled pushover any longer." He smiled as he got out of the car, locked it, and headed inside his building. "I really hope you have the procedure. It will help you see and give you back some of the independence you've lost. Let me know when you're having it done and I'll be there to support you. But Julie needs to help as well. Now, if she wants to get her own place, then maybe...."

Peter could hear his mother inhale, getting ready to argue. It was what she always did. Why he'd never seen it before, he didn't know, but he knew exactly what he was going to do: he wasn't going to allow it. "I have to go in to work. Think about what the doctor said. I know people who have been through the same thing and I'm sure they'll talk to you to help put your mind at ease." He walked toward the building and pulled the door open, then walked through the lobby to the elevator. "I'll talk to you soon," he said gently and then hung up. He sighed as he put his phone in his pocket.

By the time he got to his desk, he'd already started doubting his decision and all the things he'd said to his mother, but it was too late to take them back.

WORK KEPT KEPT him hopping for the rest of the day. By the time he was done, he was exhausted and still worried about the conversation with his mother. Luka expected him for dinner, and usually that was the highlight of his day, but he was worried about asking him to his next therapy session. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous. He knew he was being ridiculous about it. him hopping for the rest of the day. By the time he was done, he was exhausted and still worried about the conversation with his mother. Luka expected him for dinner, and usually that was the highlight of his day, but he was worried about asking him to his next therapy session. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous. He knew he was being ridiculous about it.

Peter stopped at home after work, gave Milton some attention and fed him before heading out to Luka's. He parked in the usual place, went to the door, and knocked softly. He didn't get an answer and looked toward the main house, wondering if Luka was there. He was about to knock when he heard soft whistling. When he stepped out into the alley, he saw Luka coming toward him.

"What has you so happy?" Peter asked with a smile.

"You're here, and I had... a...." Luka paused. "Breakthrough," he said in Serbian. "It was very good."

"I'm glad." Peter grinned. He loved seeing Luka happy. "You haven't seen any more of the guy from Serbia, have you?" he asked while Luka opened the door.

"Once, a few days ago. I was ready to call the police like you said," Luka explained as he opened the door. "But he cannot do anything to me here."

Peter knew that wasn't exactly true, but he didn't want to dampen Luka's happiness and wished he hadn't said anything.

"Did you have your appointment with Dr. Middlebach?" Luka placed his bag on the seat of one of the chairs and turned toward him expectantly.

Peter nodded and s.h.i.+fted his weight from foot to foot. "We had a good talk today. I'm not sure what I told him that he found so interesting, but he said he wants to do something different at our next appointment, and he asked if I'd like to have you come with me. He said that whatever he wants to do works better when someone I trust is there." Peter s.h.i.+fted slightly. "Will you come?"

Luka smiled. "Of course. When is appointment?"

"Thursday at four," Peter answered.

Luka nodded and stepped closer, tilting his head slightly. A knock on the door made them both jump. Luka kissed him quickly and then turned. He peered out of the window and then opened it. Bella stepped inside. Her hair had been done, but she still had the look of someone who hadn't been sleeping very well. Peter pulled out the other kitchen chair and motioned her into it. She wobbled a bit and sat down.

"What is wrong?" Luka asked. He scurried to get her a gla.s.s of water and placed it on the table in front of her.

"Nothing," Bella said. "There's nothing to live for. I sit in that house with nothing to do and either wait for people to visit me or wish Josif was still here." She sipped from the gla.s.s and put it back down. "I don't want to be a burden to anyone, but I saw your car and...." Bella stood up. "I should have left you alone."

"Sit down," Peter said, and she lowered herself in the chair again. "You don't have to go anywhere. I just got here." Peter looked at Luka. "When I saw you coming through the yard, I thought you'd been at Bella's."

"I get home from work. Came through the yard," Luka explained. "Bella, you stay for dinner," he added, turning to her.

Peter nodded his agreement.

"I'm cooking cevaps."

Peter saw him swallow hard, sadness appearing on his face for a few seconds.

"They were Misha's favorite." Luka smiled slightly. He stepped closer and gave Peter a kiss, then turned and opened the small refrigerator, pulled out the meat, and went to the cupboard for the other ingredients.

Bella fidgeted on her chair. "Is there something you want to talk about?" Peter asked, sitting down across from Bella. He knew enough to stay out of the way. It was a small kitchen, and Luka knew what he was doing.

"When I went to the doctor last week, he ran some more tests, and I got a call this afternoon," Bella explained. Her hands shook. The room turned silent, both he and Luka stilling. "The doctor said I'm pregnant." Bella got the words out and then burst into tears.

The sharp ring of metal slapping the counter filled the room, and then Luka was next to Bella, putting his arms around her. "That's wonderful," he said in Serbian. "The child will be blessed."

Bella continued crying. "The doctor says that because of the accident, the child might not be right. He says I must have gotten pregnant just a few days before the accident. He said that while I was unconscious, there might have been damage to the child, and that I shouldn't get my hopes up."

Luka released Bella and swore under his breath. Then he swore louder, filling the room with Serbian curses that would make the roughest construction worker blush. "They not know nothing," Luka said. "This is Serbian baby, he be strong and full of life." Luka released Bella and turned, rummaging in one of the cupboards until he found a bottle. He then got two gla.s.ses and poured a small amount into each. Luka placed a gla.s.s in front of Peter and lifted his own in the air. "To Josif and to the baby," he said in rapid Serbian before downing the shot in a single gulp. Peter did the same, and nearly coughed as the liquor burned down his throat. "I give you some, but it is bad for the baby," Luka told Bella, who smiled. "This is good news. Doctor not know Serbian babies. Strong." He made a muscle, and Peter chuckled.

Luka went back to cooking.

"The baby will be healthy," Peter said. "You got good care while you were in the hospital, and I'm sure the doctor will schedule a lot of checkups and tests to check on the baby."

"I know, but what if he's right?" Bella asked.

"Doctors today are all about helping you make choices. They don't have all the answers. The baby was very small when you were injured." Peter took a deep breath. "Think of it this way-right now, you have a small piece of Josif with you. It's growing by the minute, and in eight months, you'll have Josif's child. There's nothing more wonderful than that." He glanced at Luka as he worked the ground meat and spices in a bowl, filling the room with the scents of paprika, onion, and garlic. "This is truly good news."

"I want it to be," Bella said. "But I'm afraid."

"Why are you scared?" Luka asked, the bowl dinging on the counter.

"Raising a child alone...," Bella said.

Luka stopped what he was doing and stepped closer, his hands covered with the meat and spices. "You are not alone. I am here, Peter is here, your family is here. Everyone helps and loves this baby. There is nothing to be scared for. I love the baby already," Luka said, meeting Bella's gaze.

Peter turned away as tears formed in his eyes. He swallowed hard as he realized just how lucky he was. Somehow, of all the people in the world, he'd managed to meet and catch the eye of one of the most loving people he could ever know. He blinked a few times as he wondered why he'd never seen it before.

"Thank you," Bella said.

Peter moved closer to Bella and took her hand. "You're going to be an amazing mother. And Luka's right. You don't have to do this alone. There are a lot of people in your life who will be willing to help. I love children." He thought about Vince's twins and sniffed. He'd been largely cut out of their lives. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but.... "And I'd be honored to have a place in your child's life."

Bella began to cry again.

Luka looked at him, and Peter tried to comfort her while Luka went back to cooking. "There's no reason to cry. Everything is going to be great,"

"But what if there's something... wrong with the baby?" She started weeping again.

Peter found a tissue and handed it to her.

"Your baby is going to be as strong as you are." Peter looked over at Luka, who had begun forming the sausages. "So you need to eat and take care of yourself, because you're also taking care of that baby." Peter paused. "Look, I've seen healthy children born to drug addicts and people who smoked two packs of cigarettes a day. This early in the pregnancy, all anyone can say is that your baby is at greater risk than others because of what happened. That's all. Did the doctor give you any instructions?"

"He said to start taking prenatal vitamins and to eat well. The usual stuff. Don't drink and stay away from cigarette smoke."

"See? He hasn't given up hope, so you shouldn't either," Peter told her with a smile.

Bella dried her eyes and sniffed a few times. "Thank you," she whispered.

"There's nothing to thank me for. I'm so happy for you I could burst," Peter told her. "I like to think that we have to take the good with the bad. We all make mistakes and somehow we right the karmic balance. You lost Josif, and this is the universe's way of rebalancing the scale."

Bella nodded slowly. "Maybe you're right." She sniffed a few times and wiped her nose. Then she stood up and threw the tissue away before was.h.i.+ng her hands. "What can I do to help? I've been sitting around for days and I need something to make myself useful."

"There is lettuce in the refrigerator. You may make salad," Luka said.

"Your English is getting better," Bella said.

"I try. Peter has been helping me, but it is hard and everyone says it takes time," Luka explained. "I really want to speak good."

"Speak well," Peter corrected. "And I wish all the people I work with learned and progressed as quickly as you have."

"Am I interrupting the lessons?" Bella asked as she tore the lettuce into a bowl.

"No. We were just spending some time together this evening." Lately Peter had been trying to regiment the language work they did together. He and Luka had been spending so much time together he was afraid they'd let the lessons fall by the wayside, and he didn't want that. The sooner Luka grasped English, the better off he would be, both at work and in his personal life. "We'll work together tomorrow evening for an hour or so."

"I always working to learn," Luka said. "I listen to television and watch videos so I can speak better." Luka finished with the sausages and began heating up a pan. Peter cleared and set the table, then brought in one of the small chairs from the other room. With the three of them, the table would be cozy, but that was probably what Bella needed.

Once dinner was ready, they all sat down at the table. Luka poured drinks, and they toasted to Bella's happiness and the health of the baby with water-plain, pure water. Then they all began to eat. The meal was fairly quiet. Bella seemed lost in her own thoughts. Peter kept catching Luka's eye, and a few times Bella caught them.

"You two. Go ahead and make doe eyes at each other," she said when she caught Peter looking away. "You should be happy together."

After eating, Luka took care of the dishes. Bella excused herself and said good night, accepting hugs from both of them before leaving.

"She ate well," Luka commented as he watched her leave. "There are going to be hard times for her."

"Yes, but there will be happy times again for her as well," Peter whispered and followed Luka back inside once Bella's door closed. "Just like there will be for me."

Luka turned around and wrapped his arms around Peter's waist. "I always knew there would be."

"I didn't. I never thought I could ever possibly deserve them. h.e.l.l, I'm still not sure that I do. But Franz keeps telling me the same thing you do." Peter paused and leaned in for a kiss. "You know what he said to me today?"

Luka shook his head.

"He said that when I talk about you, I smile. I never realized I did that, but I do." Peter couldn't help smiling right that second. "You make me happy, Luka. You're kind, thoughtful, caring, and strong all at the same time." He closed his eyes. "It's hard for me to say this because I'm not really sure I know what the words mean, but I love you, Luka." Peter took a deep breath. "I know I don't deserve it, but I love you anyway. Maybe that's selfish or wishful thinking, but I hope you can...."

"Volim te," Luka said quietly, and Peter felt tears build in his eyes. He'd longed to hear someone say they loved him. And he knew the words came from Luka's heart. Peter cupped Luka's cheeks in his hands and brought their lips together.

"I want to show you how I feel, not just tell you," Peter whispered.