I stared at my phone for some time before building the courage to craft a text that wouldn’t just be alluring but safe. More than friends, but friendly enough. It seemed near impossible until I deleted ninety-five percent of my text.
Meet me Monday in Clover. I have something I want to show you.
It wasn’t a question, and I had given her no way out. I watched as the burbling bubbles told me she was already texting back, and my stomach knotted in anticipation. I wondered if she had been holding her phone in pursuit of texting me as well. I waited patiently at first, but when the bubbles disappeared and no text followed, I couldn’t help but text her a time and address and hope for the best.
The address was that of my new house. Not that I wanted to put her off with the smell of mildew or the stains in the brown shag carpet, but more that I wanted her help. I wanted her input on what made a house a home. I wanted to take the focus off the tension between us, and fix something. Achieve something. It didn’t have to be us right now, we had lives upon lives to figure us out. We just needed a small win, and maybe that came in the form of shopping for a rug or a sofa. Perhaps she would want to take on the challenge with me.
It was early Monday morning, and I packed my scant belongings from the hotel into my backpack. I grabbed a coffee in the hotel lobby—sure to put hair on a young boy’s chest—before checking out. It was nice to finally close the door on the transient living that I’d done in my search for Beck. Now, it was time to put some roots down. I met with my realtor, Tina McFay, to sign the paperwork and pick up my keys. The escrow was just beginning, but I could rent for the first month, and the owner was kind enough to let me begin the renovations. Good thing too, because the house was inhabitable as it was.
I took the gold key in my hand and waved goodbye to Tina. It was a new beginning for me in a life that seemed to run on forever. Somehow, this house . . . this life . . . I could see with Beck. It was a new start for me. I cherished that. I stole another glance at my phone; it must have been the trillionth time. Beck still hadn’t replied, and I had no idea if she would show today or not. I still had a couple of hours to kill before I would be stood up, and I had a long list of items I needed to purchase. The top of the list was a bed, but perhaps even above that was deodorizer and hand soap. The basics.
The smell of crisp pine trees rushed into my car as I opened my sunroof, and a concentrated ray of sunlight warmed my skin. It was a beautiful day for new beginnings. I hoped Beck would feel it too.
I may or may not have gone a little overboard at the hardware store. I hadn’t realized it until I was faced with the problem of packing everything into the trunk of my car. Perhaps I should have waited on the bags of wood chips and the potted flowers. But the thought of live flowers in front of the house was one I was sure Beck would like. I couldn’t pass on the gardening gloves covered in purple flowers, either. It was absolutely overboard. I was aware, but I did it anyway.
Amongst the entire gardening section that I had purchased and stuffed into my trunk, I also picked up a crowbar and sledgehammer. I was very much looking forward to using them both. There wasn’t a particular wall or cabinet I was planning on removing right away, but I knew I wanted to hack something, and I thought I’d better be prepared.
By the end of the night, I would need to purchase a mattress and pillow so that I’d have a place to sleep. I didn’t have time to do it now, in case Beck showed up, so I planned to make a run right before dinner time.
I pulled up to my new house just before noon. I would not call it a home for some time—not until it had earned the right. I turned my ignition off and stared at the old house hidden behind the growth of weeds and chipped brick. For a moment, I thought of the house as a metaphor for my life. Beaten down. Old beyond its days. And ready for new beginnings. A fire lit in my belly, and I wanted to transform the house immediately. Pour all of my tethered restraint and sorrows into it and make it something beautiful.
The car warmed in the absence of air conditioning, and I was forced to step out and meet my future, face to face. A lot of hard work lay before me, but I was grateful to have something to take my mind off of Beck. At least here, I could control the outcome.
I popped my trunk and sighed before starting my very long project. By the fourth bag of wood chips, I was ready to rip my shirt off and jump into the pool. There was no pool, of course. Not in this part of town. I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it into the trunk of my car before picking up the fifth and final bag of wood chips. Gravel crunched under the weight of tires behind me. I spun around with the bag on my shoulder to see a grey single cab truck pull into my driveway. I shielded the ray from my eyes and squinted into the light. I had hoped it was Beck, but I didn’t recognize the truck. The windshield, lit up by a blaring glare of sunlight, hid the driver’s identity.
“Is this your house?” Beck said as she stepped out of the truck. She came. A wash of relief fled through me.
“Is that your truck?” I answered with a question of my own.
Beck slid her phone into her back pocket and approached me at the trunk of my car. “It is.” She played nervously with her keys. I watched her eyes drop, taking in my bare chest, and I felt somewhat exposed. I didn’t bare the type of body she was accustomed to. I was no Nolan.
“Good! Because I’m going to need a truck!”
Beck nodded, knowing she was sucked in. “Is that why you called me here? Because you needed a truck?”
“No, I swear! I didn’t even know you had one. But, uh . . . Now that I do, you absolutely have to help me. Like, a lot! I barely fit all of this into my car, and there’s going to be more. A lot more,” I said.
“Really?” Beck asked, peering into my car.
“Yeah. I don’t even have a mattress to sleep on. I mean, what do you want me to do, sleep on the floor? Strap a mattress to the top of my car?” I twisted to the car behind me. Beck smiled. “It’s the least you could do for a friend, right?”
“I suppose so.” Beck rolled her eyes. “Do you need help bringing stuff in?”
“That would be great. Grab what you can. I’m going to toss this bag with the others,” I said as I walked the bag I had slung over my shoulder to the pile I had made underneath the front window. I thought it would make a perfect place for a flower bed.
“Where do you want these?” Beck followed me with two pots of flowers in her arms.
“Here would be great!” I said. We continued to unpack my loot. The wood chips and flowers were finally unloaded, and what remained were bags that needed to be taken into the house. Beck made fun of me for the purple gardening gloves she spotted within the bag. I was too much of a coward to tell her I bought them for her. Instead, I claimed it was my favorite color. While it wasn’t my favorite color, it was one that reminded me of a very revealing dress she once wore to her brother’s wedding. And for that reason alone, it was a special color. We stacked as many bags as we could fit into our arms before heading inside, and I immediately regretted not attempting to air the house out before she came over.
“Remember how our parents were a part of that group when we were—oh my god! What is that smell!?” Beck hid her nose in the crook of her arm as the bags swung across her chest. It was worse than I’d remembered. The mildew.
“That’s just mildew from the house being closed up for so long. It should air out after we open some windows.” We placed our bags on the nearby kitchen counter.
“That’s mildew?” Beck asked with her face buried in her arm. For the first time since she got here, I was worried she wouldn’t stay.
“Yeah, that’s just—ack!” My stomach wrenched, vomit nearly propelling out of my mouth.
“Easton! That’s not mildew!” Beck opened the backdoor slider and ran outside. I had no choice but to follow her.
“Yeah, that’s just the smell. You’d be surprised. There’s probably a wall with mold growing rampantly underneath the drywall or something. But, um, don’t worry. I bought a candle,” I
said looking back at the bags on the kitchen counter. They seemed so close yet so far away.
“A candle?” Beck looked at me with eyes of doubt.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s a mosquito candle”—my voice rose—“but they put off a smell, and I figured it was better than nothing. I’m just going to open all the windows and doors and light that candle. We’ll be inside in no time!” I really wished I had my shirt to hide my nose in, but I had to use my hand instead. I ran through the house, opening the windows and doors while breathing through my mouth. My tongue pressed firmly against my teeth. When I crossed the threshold of the kitchen into the hall, I realized the smell was originating somewhere around the stove. I ran to the backyard and gasped, more dramatically than intended. Beck laughed at me. I stood shirtless and sweaty in front of her, my hands on my hips.
“Have you had lunch yet?” I asked.
“I could eat. I could always eat.”
I smiled, thinking back to a time when Beck was sick and her appetite fleeting. It was nice to hear she’d gotten it back.
“Change of plans. Let’s let this whole thing breathe,” I circled my hand toward the house, “while we get lunch. And a mattress.” I looked down to the ground, hoping she wouldn’t protest. I couldn’t be more relieved when she agreed to spend the day with me.
“There’s only one problem,” Beck said.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Beck pointed through the slider to the front door, “We’ve got to get to the other side.”
I laughed, and a split second later I had her hand in mine as we ran through the house in one breath. Beck was laughing on the other side, and I was left wondering how such a rancid stench—which was definitely not mildew—could have possibly brought a smile to her face. I took my shirt from the trunk of my car and pulled it on as I jumped into the passenger’s side of Beck’s truck.
“Are you just going to leave your doors open like that?” Beck started her ignition.
“Are you kidding me? There’s nothing to steal, and if there were, I don’t think the burglar would survive in there!”
“Good point!” Beck said as she backed out of my driveway.
It was when Beck asked for directions to the store that I found my opportunity to cross the New River Bridge with her by my side. There were two ways out of town, and I led her to the one that crossed the bridge. The closer the bridge drew, the more I feared her reaction. It felt almost cruel. Like I had been hiding this secret of who she was and then forcing her to remember. I thought I had done the right thing by letting her memory come back to her slowly, but now I worried I should have spilled the truth long ago. Like any friend would. I immediately felt the weight of my decision as the bridge drew closer.
Chapter 17
My heart thumped in my chest as I wiped my clammy palms on my pant legs. The New River Bridge was right around the corner, and we would cross it soon. Beck messed with her phone as she tried to pay attention to the road and find the perfect song at the same time. I was worried that she would miss it altogether . . . but even more worried she wouldn’t. It was possible that she had been on her phone when she crossed it the first time on her way to my house, had she taken the bridge.
“Did you come to my house this way or did you take the backside of the mountain?” I asked.
Beck set her phone in her lap and surveyed her surroundings. “Um?” She looked out her window, eyebrows scrunched.
The truck jolted when it lifted onto the steel bridge. My eyes rested heavily on Beck’s. She placed her foot on the brake and the truck crawled to a stop. What was she doing? I looked out my window. A teen girl was stuck on the side of the bridge with a flat tire. We had just gotten onto the bridge, and I didn’t want to stop here, but Beck found it in her heart to stop and ask the girl if she was alright. Beck rolled down my window and yelled, “Do you need help?”
The girl examined us before saying, “Not unless you know how to change a tire?”
Beck looked at me, and I nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, I’ll just pull over!”
As I stood on the side of the bridge, jacking the car up, I realized it was the exact lie I fabricated when Beck’s father asked how we met. Beck, however, was the girl with the flat tire in the version I had told. As I listened to the girls chat, I suddenly became worried that Beck’s dad would pass us on the bridge and see his daughter standing on the side of the road with her deceased boyfriend. It wasn’t a good look for either of us, and I had been foolish enough to forget my baseball hat in my car.
I lifted the replacement tire out of the girl’s trunk and slid it onto the post. I listened for hesitation in Beck’s voice, but I detected no signs of despondency. I worked as quickly as I could to move the girl off the bridge without Beck and I becoming discovered. Relief washed over me when the girl drove away in her lopsided car, which now had three regular tires and one miniature one. Only two cars had passed by in that time, and from what I could tell, they were no one of importance in Beck’s past life.
“Thanks for doing that. I just remember what it was like being a new driver, and I’m glad that we could help her.” Beck started back for her truck.
“Oh hey! Look at that, want to take a quick look?” I pointed down the bridge and hated myself for it. But the truth was, if Beck didn’t figure it out soon, I might just blurt it out over lunch.
Beck hesitated, “Um, we should really get you that mattress.”
“Come on. Just real quick. I bet it’s . . . something to be remembered.” I cringed. I was the worst.
With Beck’s truck already pulled off to the side of the road, we walked a quarter of the way down the bridge. Beck was quiet—even more so than usual—and I could tell she was teetering on the cusp of uncomfortable and full-blown panic. I watched with large eyes.
“Do you feel alright?” I asked, stopping when I reached the spot in which we met.
Beck’s face was devoid of color. “I’m OK. I’m just scared of heights.”
“You seemed OK when we were on the skyscraper . . . apart from the jumping that is,” I said.
“Yeah, that was different.” Beck looked over the edge with a deeply creased forehead. I peered over the edge with her. It was a long way down, and the water was moving more freely than the night we had met. Beck pulled at the neck of her shirt. “Do. Do you ever get that feeling,” she whispered, barely audible, “that you’ve been here before?”
My stomach dipped over and over. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“I feel like I’ve been here before. Like, physically, right here.” Beck ran her hands along the top of the railing. Her eyes ticked back and forth, looking for answers. She paused before peeking at me, “I feel like I’ve been right here . . . with you.”
I sucked in a deep breath, wishing I had a plan. A map. Any protocol to follow. But this was a new situation, and I didn’t get many of them anymore. I’d figured all of this out on my own over the course of my first couple of lives. Nobody was there to hold my hand through it, and I didn’t know if I was pushing her too fast. Or perhaps it was too slow?
“Oh my god, don’t listen to me. I’m crazy. I’m a crazy person!” Beck nodded her head to herself as if she had repeated that mantra her whole life. I hurt for her.
“You’re not crazy,” I rebutted.
“Yes, I am. You have no idea. You think you know me, but you don’t.”
It pained me to see her struggle. I knew what she was going through, and I knew I had all but one of the answers she sought. All but why. I didn’t know why it happened to me, to her, or to any other Tethered Soul.
“If you’re crazy, Beck, then I’m crazy too.”
She raised her eyebrows as if I was making light of the situation. Like I couldn’t possibly understand what she was talking about.
“What, you’re crazy about me, I take it?” Beck rolled her eyes dismissively, and I could sense her panic dissipating.
“I’m a lunatic for you! I just can’t get enough of you! And I d
o know you. I understand how you feel, right now,” I said. The corners of her lips lifted.
“I feel like I’ve known you my entire life. Is that weird?” she asked.
I pushed off the bridge and pulled her into my arms. She felt like home. “You have,” I said, and I didn’t mean since we were kids. There was nothing like holding Beck in my arms. It was like allowing two magnets to click together. The birds crowed above, and the warmth of the sun hit my back. “You’re probably getting hungry. Do you want to go get that lunch now?” I asked.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Beck said with a kind smile. I slid my hand down her arm and interlocked my hand in hers. But as I started for her truck, Beck’s hand slipped from mine. She stopped clear in her tracks and her face fell flat and cold. It was the moment I feared most.
I did a double-take, my hand feeling more than a void in her absence. “Beck, what’s—”
“What is that?”
I turned to follow Beck’s trembling, accusatory finger. My throat dried and my insides melted. Beck pointed to our memorial plaque. I raked my hands through my hair as she slowly squatted, examining it. Her head tilted ever so slightly as I waited for destiny to rear its ugly head. And I knew I had brought this on myself. On her. Beck swiped her fingers over the plaque and abruptly stood, tears filling her eyes. “Never mind! Let’s go.”
“Beck, wait!” I called out to her, but she kept walking. Unfortunately for her, fate was not something she could run from. I picked up my pace and grabbed her by the shoulder. “Beck, I think we need to talk.” I placed my emphasis on think, because again, I did not know what was best for her. It was a lose-lose situation, and at this point, my only real hope was that I wouldn’t lose Beck all together.
“What! About what? What could you possibly know about what I’m going through? Unless you do. Unless you have. Unless you’ve kept it from me!” Beck stretched her arms out wide, baring her open heart as an easy target.
The Second Life of Everly Beck: The Tethered Soul Series Book 2 Page 12