How To Be A Light

When you're in a moment you believe to be one of your last, there's nothing you won't do to make the most of it. That's why I step to Luther Fitzpatrick with such a heated kiss to his lips. My fingers immediately slip right up the back of his neck, pulling us closer and closer so as to say goodbye. There's a smile that flits across his lips as his hands welcome me in, a light chuckle that hadn't expected such a passionate 'hello', though the path of my fingertips, tracing over broad shoulders and down his arms were enough to calm his surprise for a moment or two.

"You're leaving me for her, aren't you? Don't hide it. I see her digits on your arm." He laughs, pressing another quick kiss to my lips. "Hello yourself, Mic-Mak."

My fingers lace through his with a fond smile up at the nick name, pulling him into a slow stroll down the path.

So how exactly do people go about doing this in real life? Should I be walking? Should we be still? Is it alright if I hold his hand? Should I put six feet between us and dash as fast as I can in the other direction when he processes the news? From what I can recall in movies, my job is to either leap into his arms and sing out the news, or conjure up some heartfelt speech and then slip it in somewhere near the end. I could also speak really fast and just tack it into the middle of a sentence so quickly that he misses it entirely. At least I will have said it then, right?

That first thought on running away and never having to see his face seems so much more appealing in the heart of this moment.

"Alright, I know what you're going to say to me." Luther stops, resting his hands on my shoulders with a firm gaze.

I stare up at him speechless as the script I'd been reciting over and over in my mind shredded itself on the spot. I try to read his expression for any hint of how he feels about this baby; I try as hard as I can to find a hint of excitement, some flash of happiness in his eyes as I do nothing to deny it, but the moment came and passed- each second I stood so silently waiting for him to explode with excitement and make this easier to bear.

"How did you know?" I ask, leaning into the large hands that cup my shoulders.

"You can barely look at me right now. I'm not stupid." His throaty tone grew darker as he gave my shoulder a light squeeze, "You barely eat, you can't look me in the eye, you haven't been sleeping and the first thing you've said to me all week via text is 'we need to talk'. Let me save you the trouble and just cut the crap."

The backlash in his tone makes me cringe as the moment for celebration passed us by.

I did anything that I could to avoid his gaze, staring up at the sun, watching the wind rustle through the thick trees, gazing down at the gravel beneath my flip-flops; anything at all that would distract me from the six-odd feet of Luther Fitzpatrick that confronted me in every way I couldn't take. Green eyes held to my gaze despite every nerve in my body that screamed at me to find something else to pay attention to, Luther's stare growing colder as the silence really set in.

"You're getting so angry at me. Is this suddenly all my fault?" My mind reels back into the words that spilled over when I was with Amy, hot cheeks and angry breaths quick to cut me off. "I don't know what else to do, Luther."

"What do you mean you don't know what else to do?" Luther scoffs, running his lips together with a quick shake of his head. You can tell how frustrated he is as he runs a hand over the stubble of his chin. "You don't know what else to do? You're not even making any sense right now-"

With every word he speaks I can feel my stomach looping around in knots, a tight burn creeping up the back of my throat so effectively straining my voice. It's disheartening to think that half an hour ago I'd sat so close with a smile on my lips thinking of how this might be a good thing, how he might embrace this child and find a way to smile about it.

"Why don't you start by explaining?" Luther all but growls, running a hand through his hair angrily.

He can't be serious right now.

"How am I supposed to answer that? What am I supposed to say to you? It's not like I asked for this!" My angry accusation does very little to remedy the disappointment that's painted right over his face.

I feel horrible for getting so angry at him. I feel horrible for screaming, for getting so worked up, for telling my baby that I 'didn't ask for this'; I feel stupid and alone- everything that I anticipated the moment I took that fourth pregnancy test.

"What do you really want me to say to you, Luther? How am I supposed to explain how something like this comes about?" I feel stupid as the tears in my eyes begin to spill over. Perhaps I'd envisioned it playing out in this way, but the thought and the reality of it are two very different things.

One so happens to be a possibility, while the latter is a brute fact- unsurpassable and grounded to its core.

No longer is there a possibility of Luther denouncing this child. No longer is there a 50/50 split or anything I might be able to divide up into fractions and percentages to make myself feel better. No more percentage points, no pro and con lists, no hypotheticals or wishful thoughts- no more of it.

He flat out doesn't want it.

"What am I supposed to say to you, Luther?" A quiet murmur sets the tone, disappointment and embarrassment beating down all hints of anger in my words. "It's not as if you need me to walk you through it."

"Shit, McKenna! Maybe I do need you to walk me through it!" His anger falls as the look on my face registers. Instead he sounds tried, exasperated, as he speaks my name. "Go on and spell it out for me, because I have no idea where the hell you're coming from with this one."

This really wasn't what I had in mind when I pictured his disbelief, but it isn't as if standing here and explaining where babies come from is going to legitimize this child in his eyes. I shouldn't have to warm him up to the idea of it. That isn't my job. He's supposed to be on my side with this one! He wasn't supposed to push it on me as if it's entirely my fault.

"So that's it then?" He presses me with an angry laugh, "That's all you've got to say for yourself? I get to be the one standing here after two years feeling like a chump. Is that what you had in mind, McKenna? I love you-"

"Then why are you doing this?" I cut him off so venomously, fists shaking at my sides. "You're just going to walk away and push this entire thing on me as if it's all my fault? This isn't some mistake!"

I know that. In my heart I know that this baby isn't a mistake. Luther can go ahead and say whatever he wants, but I will not label this baby a mistake. Not now, not ever.

"I'm not going to hate him because of you!" I snap, watching the colour drain from his cheeks.

That was his boiling point.

"Are you for real right now?" His eyes narrow pointedly, staring down with a glare so livid I can feel the way it makes me shake. "I was going to come down here today and tell you that Joey asked me to be his partner and open another franchise downtown. I was going to come down here and tell you that I got promoted and that we finally have enough to go look for an apartment together."

He was going to ask me to move in with him. I close my eyes, swallowing the mix of guilt, anger and embarrassment that sit in the back of my throat.

"You're just going to throw away two years for some meaningless little chump?" Luther's twisted anger gets the one up on my rage, reducing me to tears in seconds. "God, who are you?"

"You son of a bitch!" I shriek, disregarding the passersby as I smack his arm. "Don't you ever say that! You never say that about him ever again. Where do you come off in all of this? You sick son of a bitch! This is just as much your fault as it is mine!"

How can he look at me like that? How can he look at me as if I'm the enemy- as if I'm the one who needs to make the decisions? I think Luther had a very important role in all of this too, but you don't see him bringing that up. Just because this kid is inside of me doesn't mean it's got nothing to do with him. The last time I checked I didn't impregnate myself.

And I'll have you know that my baby is far from meaningless.

And now he's going to leave me for good and I'll hate this baby like the monster I am.

"I hate you for doing this to me!" My words cut him off with a rampant disregard for the softening concern on his face. "Where in the hell do you come off saying these things to me? Who am I? Who are you right now, Luther? Why should I have to choose between the two of you? Why can't I keep you both?"

I press on, refusing to back down in the heat of the moment. "Don't act as if you don't have any responsibility in this! The last time I checked I didn't do this to myself!"

"Keep us both! Do you even hear yourself right now?" Luther yells out, messing his hair up with stressed hands. "How is it my fault that you're breaking up with me because of some asshole on the side? How is any of that my fault?"

My wide-set eyes scream surprise as a slack jawed shock flits across my lips. "What?"

"No, McKenna, why don't you spell that one out for me? How exactly do you plan on keeping the pair of us around?" He jeers, crossing his arms with a bitter smirk. "What's your plan for that one Mic-Mak? Did you want all of us to live in the same apartment? How about we share a bed too? How does that sound to you?"

He thinks I'm doing what behind his back?

The accusation smacks me across the face, leaving me wide-eyed and speechless.

"No, really, I'm intrigued now." Disdainful sarcasm pauses in my wake. "Enlighten me, please."

Relief is the first of many expressions to wash over my face as my mind throws-back to the conversation: the 'we need to talk', the 'other person' and 'keeping both' of them. It dawns on me how he might've taken it, how caught up in my anger I was that I didn't think twice about the words I spoke.

"You might want to try explaining why it is you're smiling right now." Luther runs his lips together with stern eyes. I can tell that he's mad, but the only thought on my mind is the second chance I've been given. Not one word of what he spoke was about the baby.

"You think I'm cheating on you?" I smile, the happiest I've felt in weeks as I bunch the folds of his shirt in my hands. These weights fall from my shoulders with a breathless 'Thank God' before wrapping him in a tight embrace. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

But I've got to admit, there's something so attractive about watching him get all worked up over it.

"Mic-Mak, what's going on with you?" Luther asks, relaxing into my tight hug. I barely manage a reply, hugging him tight to my chest. My fingers run down the back of his neck, caught between embarrassment and the grateful smile that crosses my lips.

Pulling back with a quick double take at the empty path he leans in with a low whisper, "Are you on your period or something?"

"No!" I exclaim, nudging him off with an amused laugh. "This whole thing came out all wrong! We're not talking about the same thing at all."

After a moment, the relief lulling my nerves caught on as green-eyes softened up. He stared at my fingers as they slid down his arm, lacing through his own with a playful squeeze.

"So there isn't anyone else?" Luther mulled over the words, unable to fit them into the context of our heated exchange.

I press a hopeful kiss to his hand with a shake of my head. "No."

"So then you don't hate me..." The tension slowly begins to fizzle out as the frown leaves his lips, warm hands running down my back as his questions press on. "And you didn't come here to break up with me?"

The quiet smile on my lips persists with another slow shake of my head.

"Well then who is 'he'?" Luther frowns with a confused pucker. "And, Jesus woman, I thought you were about to bite my head off, what did I do?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." I speak, a little more calm as large hands trace circles down my back. "I'm just freaking out, so I have no idea how to say it without freaking you out too. It's not as if we've ever talked about it before, so I know it'll sound a little crazy, and maybe you'll think it's a bad idea at first, but-"

I stop, biting back the rest of my words with a sharp breath. The moment I say this, there's no going back on the words. The moment I tell him this truth, everything changes. There's this terror in the pit of my stomach that turns me off of sharing the rest. We could just go back to the way we were. Neither of us are ready for this- we just aren't. Luther just got a promotion and I'm still in school and this is someone else's life we'll be in charge of.

"Hey, what is it?" Luther's expression softens as my cheeks tinge pink. He has to catch my gaze again, lifting it from the ground with concern. "You can tell me, McKenna."

"Promise you're not going to freak out on me." I mumble stupidly, grasping my sides as if the baby would give me strength to let it out.

"Promise me you'll let a guy know before you go all UFC on the arm over some misunderstanding and you've got yourself a deal." He quips with a small smirk as my eyes perk up. "Look at it this way, Mic-Mak, whatever it is you have to tell me: I love you, I just got a promotion, we can finally start looking for an apartment with those his-and-her-closets you want so badly and, as far as I know, I don't have to beat down your love affair with a baseball bat, so that takes care of any future assault charges- so long as I keep my three wives safely hidden."

I think we might need a place a little bigger than what he's got in mind for this baby and those three wives he speaks of, but the smile behind his words is enough to lift the truth that gnaws away at my mind.

"Three of them, Luther?" I nod with a loud laugh despite myself. "Is that so?"

"Whatever it is, you're supposed to be able to tell me so we can figure it out." He presses on with an encouraging nod, ignoring my amused jeer. "If it's anything short of terrorism, I've got us covered... Otherwise we might need to flee the country, which would really set back that whole promotion thing, but it's completely do-able. I hear Mexico is nice year-round. Don't worry, I know a guy..."

For a moment I find myself staring up at the smile on his face as if it's the last time he'll ever laugh with me, grasping it in my hands. My eyes cloud over at the thought of losing him, but to think that I'd ever been a part of something as great as him and I, that's something to be thankful for. And that's something that won't change in any way, regardless of how this all pans out.

I'll always have that to myself.

"You're right." I nod, grasping his hands with a careful grin. "Things have definitely been a little off lately, but I've got to tell you something that I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I just don't know how you're going to take it."

It almost feels like magic, this liberation that rushes through my veins as I beam up at him. When it comes down to it, there's not one person I'd rather say these words to than Luther Fitzpatrick and the boyish grin on his face that presses me for the truth.

"Here's the thing, Luther, I-"

"Hey, watch out!" Luther calls, brushing past my wide-eyes as an ear curling scream resounds from the path. "Man, what are you doing? He's just a kid!"

A boy wails on the side of the path, scratched up and bruised as Luther yells at the biker. There's a pool of water and glass around his frame as he holds his knee tight, staring around the sidewalk with wide eyes, so very alarmed.

"Are you alright?" I wander over to be boy, resting a hand on his back with a small smile. "Sweetie, what's your name?"

"Well try being a little less sorry and a little more attentive, for God's sake! If you were thinking more about the people around you over where to litter your shit, this might not have happened." Luther rolled his eyes at the petrified biker. "You think you can just fly down here without paying attention to who's in your damned way?"

"Holden." He sniffs with a low cough, caught between glancing around the pavement and holding his leg. "I can't find Sammy. I want my fish now!"

"It's alright, Holden. We'll find him. My name's McKenna, alright?" My eyes wander down the path, resting on a small goldfish that flops around the gravel as Luther trudges back over. "Baby, look, the fish tank must've smashed."

Unsure of whether or not to tend to the fish immediately or the boy's cut, I was floored when Luther took charge with a nod.

"Are you bleeding at all?" He kneeled to him, brushing the dirt from the small boy with a smile as he looked up and murmured a small 'no'. "Good stuff! I knew you were a tough one. Let's go help Sammy then."

I should've moved or said something as Luther nodded the boy over to the bottle dropped by the absent minded biker, but I was speechless as they connected so quickly. He nudged Holden over to the creek, instructing him to cup his hands and scoop up as much water as he could hold before dropping 'Sammy' into his hands.

"There you go, little man." He spoke, clapping a hand to his shoulder with an approving nod as Holden's eyes beamed down at Sammy the fish. "Keep your fingers closed tight, alright?"

Holden couldn't have been over the age of five, raven hair and crisp blue eyes staring up at Luther in awe.

"Come here," Luther paused, beckoning him over with a smile.

As he squatted down by the rocks, Holden observed and mimicked his every move, leaning over to peek into the water while balancing the fish between his hands. Luther grinned, dipping the littered pop bottle into the shallow creek so as to replenish the water-base for Sammy.

"Here's how we're going to build Sammy's new home." He started, taking a seat on the nearby bench. "Come over here and I'll show you!"

Holden glanced back for a moment, unwavering in his hesitation until I nodded my approval. After giving him the 'ok', a smile returned to his lips, tuning into Luther as he showed him how to let the water drain from his fingers into the bottle.

"Now Sammy lives in a bottle." Blue eyes turned on me as he held out the bottle. "Look! My fish lives in a bottle! Do you see, McKenna? Look 'it!"

The raven-haired boy grinned triumphantly, climbing up beside me with a smile as he held the bottle to my face. Clambering up proved a hefty task for Holden as he nearly knocked Sammy's new home over a few times. Luther helped him up, watching as he crawled across the rough boulder and right into my side with that impish grin of his.

"He'll definitely need some clean water soon though..." Luther trailed, eyeing the bright goldfish in the murky lake water. "He'll need another tank and some clean water... Maybe some fish food too?"

What had started as an offhanded murmur turned into a shopping list as Luther turned his gaze on me. God knows how Holden picked up on this, letting those big, blue eyes of his glance up at me so innocently.

"Come on, McKenna." Luther chimed, pressing a kiss to my cheek despite Holden's silent 'gross'. "What do you say?"

Holden examines his fish in the bottle as we bicker back and forth, tapping the glass before making faces at Sammy- crossing his eyes, sticking his tongue out, making strange noises all to impress a fish.

"We can't just take a kid, Luther!" I laugh, shaking it off with a cocked brow. "Someone's out there looking for him!"

"Nuh-uh. I have a soccer game when the little hand gets to the five." Holden interrupted, pointing to Luther's watch with a smile. "That's where mommy is."

"See!" Luther smirked, mirroring my expectant eyes with a shrug. "He's got a soccer game at five! The field's right across the park, Mic-Mak. Fifteen minute walk, tops. Petland's barely five minutes away! Come on, please?"

Luther nudged Holden softly, casting him an expectant eye with a quick nod my way until it clicked.

"Yeah!" The small boy piped in, clasping his hands together with a smile. "Please?"

They make for a deadly duo, those two. You'd think the brooding anticipation in their eyes was rehearsed to the tee- unwavering, persistent and much stronger than any of my doubts.

"Alright," I couldn't help but study his soft features for a moment, his peachy cheeks, and the way his grin doubled in size as Luther pressed him for a high-five. "But we've got to be quick, deal?"

"Yes, mam!" Holden shrieked with laughter as Luther hoisted him up on his shoulders, running around and spinning in circles as they both sang 'we saved Sammy!' at the top of their lungs.

And so I find myself rid of tears on this Wednesday afternoon, holding this dirty coke bottle full of murky water and a beautiful fish- all bottled up with no place to go. As Luther finds new and creative ways to treat Holden like a Frisbee, I take a moment to stare at the beautiful goldfish trapped in such dirty waters.

"Faster, faster!" Holden ordered through his screams, spreading his arms out as Luther spun in circles. "Look, McKenna! Look at me! Look how fast I can go! Can you see? I bet you can't!"

Right now, Sammy and I aren't so different, caught between a rock and a hard place... or germ infested waters and the confines of a dirty pop bottle. I feel a lot like this fish – trapped, cornered, immersed in this ailing truth. I feel like I'm bottled up- like I'm stuck in this dirty pop bottle with no way out, but the hard way.

"I can see, sweetie, but be careful!" I call back with a smile, "Be careful, Luther!"

"Check this out, Mic-Mak," Luther laughs, tossing Holden up before catching him in free-fall. As Holden musters the breath to laugh one quick 'do it again', Luther re-focuses on their game with a short grin. "How cool is that?"

I guess we'll have to work on the meaning of 'be careful'.

"Well, baby," My fingers caress my stomach as the two boys play on down the path to Petland. "Let's hope you don't have motion sickness."