“Ah! What’d you do that for?” Beck held her arms up, covered in hot coffee. Beck’s mom looked towards us to see what the commotion was about, and I ducked my head.
“Shhh, wait!” I hissed.
Beck slapped her hand down on her thigh, “Easton, I’m covered in coffee!”
“Beck, it’s your mom. She’s here!” I whispered into Beck’s ear.
Beck turned around slowly and I grabbed her wrist, leading her out of the cafeteria. Both of our coffees remained behind. Once in the safety of a stairwell, Beck looked into my eyes with an unwavering sense of knowing. “It’s my dad, Easton. I just know it. I have to see him.”
“Beck, we can’t interfere. They won’t understand,” I pled.
“I’m not asking permission, Easton! I’m doing this with or without you, I’m only asking for your help!” Beck didn’t wait for my answer and spun on her heels, ready to charge out of the stairwell.
“I can find him,” I said, and Beck stopped. “This way,” I said.
Together, we checked with a nurse. I told her I was Beck’s brother, Carter, and she pointed us in her father’s direction without a second thought. Beck squeezed my hand as we walked down the halls looking for her dad’s room. When we found it, she took a moment to gather herself before entering.
Beck’s dad lay resting while monitors captured his vitals. A clear breathing tube was threaded above his ears and under his nose, and his bedsheets were folded pristinely across his chest. The past twenty-one years had not been kind to him, and the broken heart of losing his daughter had shone in the crevices etched into his forehead.
“Pop?” Beck whispered.
“Shhh, we can’t wake him,” I said.
Beck pulled a seat near his bedside and sat down. Her face compressed with heavy emotion. I stood by the doorway keeping an eye out for her mother, and when I was convinced that we had some time alone, I picked up her dad’s chart and read. Beck reached for her father’s hand, causing my heart to skip a beat, but I couldn’t tell her not to. Not just because she wouldn’t listen but because the fear of her parents seeing her was far less than the fear of Beck not saying goodbye. In all honesty, had I been given the chance, I would risk it too.
She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. Gentle tears rolled off her cheeks and dripped onto her lap. I watched as she finally had the chance to say goodbye to her dad, even if it was an entire lifetime late. I couldn’t pry my eyes off of them, and I felt my own tears burning the corners of my eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, Pop. I thought I had more time. I thought it was going to be different,” Beck murmured, lowering her head. Broken.
The corners of her dad’s lips pulled up in a strained smile, and his eyes fluttered open. My stomach dropped and while I felt adrenaline course through my veins, Beck was the polar opposite. She remained calm and complacent. Confident that she was right where she ought to be.
“Everly? Everly, is that you?” he said through the drugs and heavy eyelids.
“It’s me, Dad, I’m here. I’m here.” Beck kissed his hand repeatedly, squeezing it tight.
“Oh, Beck! Oh, Beck. How I’ve missed you.” He began to cry, his body brittle and quaking.
“Don’t cry, Dad. I’m doing good. I’m happy, and I have Easton. He’s taking care of me, so you don’t need to worry about me anymore.” Beck’s dad looked at me, and his eyes grew wide. It hurt me to see his wounds reopening, and I wished it didn’t have to be this way. I ran my hands through my hair and scanned the halls once more as my heart nearly lurched out of my chest in anticipation of what would come next.
“What’s it like, Beck? What’s it going to be like?”
Beck looked at me, taken aback by his question. My mouth fell open.
“Um . . .” Beck looked back to her father, her leg bouncing nervously. She exhaled long and methodically, collecting an answer that she would never know to be true. “It’s like kicking your shoes off after a long day’s work. It’s like birds flying over a pond on a warm afternoon at sunset. It’s um . . . it’s football and a cold beer . . .” Beck’s voice strained, barely audible anymore.
“Will you be there, Beck?” His eyes filled with tears.
“Yeah, Dad. I’ll be there . . .” Beck pushed his white hair off of his forehead and ran the back of her hand down the side of his face.
“Listen, Dad. I can’t stay. I have to go, but um . . . can you tell Mom something for me?”
Beck’s dad covered his face, trying to stifle his sobs.
“Tell Mom that I borrowed my journals, but that I will give them back soon, OK? I don’t want her to worry she failed me by losing them. It was me. I took them. And Dad, tell her I love her. Carter too.” Beck stood to hug her dad goodbye.
When he pried his incredulous eyes off of her and placed them onto me, I walked over to him and leaned in close to his ear. “Sir, thank you for raising such an amazing daughter. You don’t have to worry about her. I’ll keep her safe. I promise,” I said.
Beck buried her face into her sleeves, wiping away her tears. “Take care of my daughter,” her dad said through a splintered voice, and I forced a smile and nodded.
“I will.”
Beck looked to her dad when I joined her side and she whispered, “I love you, Pop.”
He nodded, burying his eyes deep into his palms, sobbing even heavier yet. “I love you. I love you,” he cried.
I looked to Beck, “We should go,” I said. She nodded in agreement right as the footsteps approached the door. I panicked and pulled Beck behind the privacy curtain of the shared patient room. Beck’s eyes were large with shock, but wider yet when we heard her mother’s voice on the other side of the thin vale.
“Oh, honey, I’m here. What’s wrong?”
“B . . . Beck . . . Beck” her dad murmured.
Beck cupped her mouth with both hands, trying to silence her cry. Her tears ran down her cheeks and onto her interlocking fingers. I rubbed her back, trying desperately to keep her calm. The damage we had done was sinking in, and it would only be made worse if we showed ourselves now. My own heartbeat became deafening, and for a moment, it was the only thing that I could hear. That was until code blue was called.
Panic ensued on the other side of the curtain, nurses yelling, instruments clamoring. Above all was the screaming from his beloved. Beck began to hyperventilate, and I sat her down on the empty hospital bed as I blocked out the trauma as best I could by placing my hands over her ears. I fought to get her attention, which was no effortless task. When I had her eyes locked onto mine, I worked even harder to keep them there. We took deep breaths together, and I held her hands tight. As tight as I could.
“Clear!” a nurse yelled, and a thump sounded shortly thereafter. Beck and I held our breath until a tiny beep sounded for the second time. “We have a heartbeat! Let’s get him to surgery now!”
Beck jumped off of the bed, weak at the knees. I stabled her trembling body in my embrace, and we listened to the commotion leave the room and trail down the halls. The curtain steadied in the wake of the storm. Only the feeble weeping of Beck’s mother was left on the other side. So close, yet . . . still a lifetime away.
Beck had called the hospital that night for an update on her father, and when she got the news that he didn’t make it, she started checking the newspaper for funeral updates. James hadn’t made it either, and Beck was having a difficult time processing it all. She said it was easier when it was herself that was dying and that she would take their place if she could. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t. Why she got a second chance when they only had one shot.
Beck stayed at my house every night, and every day we moved in more boxes of her things. The once fixer-upper was fast becoming our home . . . my favorite place to be. Brooklyn gushed over Beck’s ring and was happy to help her pack in the short stints that Beck spent at their apartment. Brooklyn even spent some time over at our house, and she quickly becam
e a friend of mine as well. She promised to help Beck plan the wedding, and I relinquished all rights to any opinions I might have.
The following week ended with not one but two funerals. James’s service was packed with new and old friends, co-workers, fellow students, and family. Brooklyn held Beck’s hand at the burial and she often spun her engagement ring mindlessly. When the crowd thinned, Brooklyn’s empty stare turned to me as she asked if I could fetch her jacket from her car. I welcomed the chance to step away for a breath of fresh air, though the heavy heart would follow. I strolled down the dirt path a little slower than usual as I played with her keys in my hand. I rummaged through multiple garments in Brooklyn’s car before settling on the only one fancy enough to go with her dress. Passing James’s friends on my way back to the grave, Brooklyn had her arms wrapped around Beck as she stroked her hair. “Is she alright?” I asked, approaching.
“Just a little shaken up is all,” Brooklyn said. I handed her the jacket from the car, and she let go of Beck to put it on. Beck’s eyes flicked to me before turning back to Brooklyn. She gave her a quick nod before asking me if we could go home. Beck was silent, overcome with emotion, and by the next day at her father’s funeral, she had said that she was numb. Hollow from the inside out.
The sun was high as we sat on a hilltop bench across the cemetery. Beck wore a large sunhat and matching black sunglasses. She could have passed for a celebrity in her mysterious way. There was a smaller gathering for her father, but that was to be expected at his age. Beck pointed out past relatives as she remembered them, and I pointed out her new niece that I had seen at The Taste of Italy. When the crowd dispersed after the burial, Beck’s immediate family stayed behind, throwing flowers into the hole where her father’s casket was lowered.
“Everly? Can you watch Wes? I don’t want him to fall,” Chloe said, pointing to the little boy. Beck’s niece scooped up her little brother and bopped a white rose on his nose. We watched as he squealed trying to capture it. I squeezed Beck’s hand, and a rogue tear tumbled down her cheek from behind her sunglasses, finding its way into the crevice of her lips.
“Is it always going to be like this?” Beck asked.
I thought about how many people I’d held at arm’s length. How many people I’d distanced myself from so that I could protect myself from this very moment. I had been doing it wrong all along. “If we’re lucky,” I said.
Beck’s face was shielded by the brim of her black hat, but I could see her red lips twitch with disapproval. “How could you ever associate this feeling with luck?” Beck asked, as she stared down the hill at her family as an outsider.
I took a deep breath. I had been thinking about it a lot lately. “Because it means you’re doing it right. You couldn’t possibly hurt like this if you haven’t loved like that,” I said.
Beck let out a small sound that caught in her throat, and she pulled her hand away to wipe her cheek. It was then that a beautiful amethyst dragonfly fluttered up to Beck, landing on the lilac peonies she held for her father. I smiled and looked to Beck to see her lips press together before she lifted her hand to cup her mouth.
“Wow, Beck. It’s really something, huh?”
Beck pulled her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and peered at the dragonfly. A tender smile breached her lips, and I knew in that moment the stars had aligned just perfectly for us. I didn’t know how or why. But I knew I had finally found my forever within her gentle soul.
“You know what my dad always used to say?” Beck asked as the purple dragonfly took flight.
“What’s that?” I asked, watching it flutter to meet her family below. My heart warmed when I saw Beck’s nephew take notice, chasing it around the grave site. Not a care in the world.
“When one door closes, another one opens . . .”
Thank you
Thank you for reading The Second Life of Everly Beck. If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a quick review or star rating. It makes my day.
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About the Author
Laura C. Reden is an emerging author of paranormal, romance, and urban fantasy.
Overcoming the struggles of dyslexia, Laura found that creative passion and hard work triumphs over her disadvantage.
Laura is a Southern Californian native, wife, and mother of two daughters. Her pastimes include video production, pottery, and horseback riding. While she received an education in social and behavioral science, she currently works as the chief financial officer for her family-owned law firm in San Diego.
If you’re interested in information about new releases, promotions, and advanced reader copies, you can subscribe at https://www.subscribepage.com/redenbooks
Also by Laura C. Reden
VINTAGE EMBERS: SCI-FI ROMANCE
https://books2read.com/VintageEmbers
THE TETHERED SOUL OF EASTON GREEN:
THE TETHERED SOUL SERIES, BOOK 1
https://books2read.com/TheTetheredSoulofEastonGreen
THE SECOND LIFE OF EVERLY BECK:
THE TETHERED SOUL SERIES, BOOK 2
https://books2read.com/TheSecondLifeOfEverlyBeck
THE KINDRED SOUL OF NORA FAYE:
THE TETHERED SOUL SERIES, BOOK 3
https://books2read.com/TheKindredSoulofNoraFaye
WHEN I WAS BECCA GREEN:
THE TETHERED SOUL SERIES, BOOK 4
https://books2read.com/WhenIwasBeccaGreen
For more information: LauracRedenBooks.com
Subscribe: https://www.subscribepage.com/redenbooks
The Second Life of Everly Beck: The Tethered Soul Series Book 2 Page 19