Today, I decide to wake up early and try to at least do my chore—breakfast. Yesterday, I practiced preparing a meal with my occupational therapist. The entire session felt therapeutic. It reminded me of the happy times I spent with Mrs. Bradley learning how to cook. Taking care of others is a gift. It brings me peace, happiness, and comfort.
It’s still a task to move from my wheelchair, to the stair lift, to the wheelchair downstairs, but I can do it on my own. That’s one of this week’s goals. I can check it off the list. The new list Grace and I decided to create. We included sexual positions to it. I need more incentive than swimming to the other side of the fucking pool.
When I arrive at the kitchen, Pierce is setting the basket of fresh eggs on the table.
“I heard you started selling them to Paige at the bakery because you guys kept having cold cereal for breakfast,” I tease him.
He turns around to look at me. “You’re up early.”
“I’m always up early at the gym working out,” I remind him.
Mozart, who is trying to eat from Buster and Daisy’s bowl, looks at me and prances toward me. He leaps on top of my lap and meows. While we were away, Leyla trained the dogs and him to get along. Mozzy even goes with them to the barn every morning to feed the animals. So far, he hasn’t toyed with the chickens. Feathers are his favorite toys.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I say.
“You must be since you’re fucking around the house—and The Lodge,” he teases me. “We understand there’s a list, but stick to doing it in your room.”
“I’m just saving all this for later,” I warn him. “Wait until I find ways to give you a hard time.”
“We have to take advantage while we can.” He winks at me.
Looking at the counters and the kitchen, I ask, “So, when I can stand up for long periods, are you going to keep the kitchen this low?”
“Yeah, we thought it’d be great for the kids. We can teach them how to cook—like your grandma did with you when you were little,” he explains.
I smile. Maybe I have to tell them the real story; perhaps someday. Then, I remember Janelle’s first visit to the hospital.
“Did you find the custody agreements?”
He nods. “Is your mom still in touch with you?”
“She came a few more times to visit,” I answer. “We exchange texts weekly. I think we’ll have this weird relationship where she texts me on my birthday and holidays. I’ll do it when Grace reminds me to check on her.”
“It’s better than my mother and me,” he answers. “I’m dead to her. My entire family hates me—probably because they are disbarred and in jail.”
“That would do the trick.” I move around the kitchen, looking for ingredients. “So, the custody agreements.”
“I can only find the finalized agreements. There aren’t any drafts saved anywhere,” he explains. “However, Hayes told us Janelle’s conversation. Mills and Vance called their mothers. They actually came to visit.”
“Why wasn’t I told about this?”
He raises an eyebrow. “I assumed you were preoccupied with other shit.”
“A conference call could’ve been scheduled around my therapy.”
“Tough luck, kid. Either you play 007, or you stay at home—like we agreed from the beginning.”
I wave my hand and focus on making breakfast. “You were saying about the visit?”
“Once the paparazzi caught on that Janelle had a kid and William was married, he filed for custody of each one of us. Addison said he didn’t want to lose us. In fact, he wanted us to grow up together, in Manhattan. It was my mother and Henry’s mom who began to dispute everything to make him pay. It was more about how they’d get back at him than looking at what was best for us.
“The battle could’ve lasted years. It began to get nasty, and William just let it go and accepted most of the conditions our mothers asked for—except for a few. He requested they send Henry to boarding school. He wanted him away from his grandfather and his mother. Hayes’ mom wasn’t allowed to get married until Carter turned eighteen. She’s the one who proposed the one week a year with William. It’s her weird way to ensure that we grew up together.”
“Can you do that in a custody agreement? I would’ve said fuck it and married the first woman I found just to piss of my ex.”
“She could’ve ignored it, but then William could’ve come back to fight her for custody of his children,” Pierce states. “I’m sure she agreed to it just to get the divorce over with. Remember, they were legally bonded.”
“What about you?”
“My mother was a fucking lawyer,” he reminds me. “She made sure to get a lot and gave nothing in return—her child support was hefty compared to the others. Addison wasn’t allowed to send Vance to any military school,” he continues. “You had to stay with your grandparents.”
“How about Mills?”
He smiles. “Oh, that one was low-key. The woman is a sweetheart. Marie said she wasn’t going to fight him until he threatened to take all of us away.”
“He was crazy,” I conclude.
“Totally insane,” he agrees. “How in the world was it okay to have different women, many kids, and keep everything secret? I don’t know what he was thinking. There has to be someone who knows why he was a sociopath.”
“Carter told me he’s human but died with a lot of regrets.”
Pierce shakes his head. “I want to believe that you saw him.”
I burst into laughter and point at the hot skillet. “Slide it into the oven.”
“Why are you laughing?”
“He said you’d say that.” I go to the table to grab the watermelon. “You might want to help me cut it. I don’t think I can do it sitting in the chair.”
“You’re just having fun about seeing him.”
“Maybe it wasn’t real and my mind just wandered. As Henry told me, ‘I want to believe he was there while you were confused, waiting to come back.’”
He nods. “That I can see.”
“By the way, I need you to do me a favor,” I ask.
“You left our bed too early,” Grace says, kissing me and taking Mozzy from my arms. “Morning, Pierce.”
“Hey, Grace. Our cook is back. This time I might keep him.”
She glances at him and shakes her head. “You can borrow him for a few more months. After that, I’m taking him home.”
“This is home,” Pierce insists. He looks at me.
“She’s the boss.” I give him a look that says, what can I do? “We’ll come back to visit often. I’ll have my kick-ass studio and a lake house. You promised to come and tour with me.”
“I will,” he promises. “What did you need?”
“For you to cut the watermelon,” I say, hoping that he doesn’t ask about the other thing. G is here, and we can’t talk in front of her.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Grace
It’s been a couple of months since we came back to Baker’s Creek. It’s warm enough that we can swim in the lake. Henry banned us from The Lodge’s pool. It was costing him too much to have the pool cleaned every time we fucked around. The studio is finally ready. The guys came for the informal inauguration.
They know Beacon might not want to play—or he might choose another instrument, like a tambourine. He’s pretty good at shaking maracas.
“When did you start walking with crutches?” Fish asks.
“A week ago,” I respond. “He’s making progress. I think his hand-eye coordination is almost as it used to be. His legs are sustaining him a lot more than before.”
Beacon gives me a wicked smile. We’ve made love a couple of times against the wall. He can last only few minutes. Not because he comes fast, but because his legs are still weak.
“Where is Lang?” Beacon asks.
“Stuck in London with his boy band—and not in a good way,” San answers. “I think they’re about to break up and become an
other one-hit wonder band.”
“I told him not to get involved with those guys,” Mane says.
I dare to ask, “Was he sleeping with any of them?”
“No. He doesn’t sleep with clients or relatives of his clients,” he recalls.
When we enter the studio, everything is different. It looks a lot like the studio we have in Seattle.
Beacon scans the place and finally asks, “Who helped Henry build this?”
“Lang did,” Mane responds. “He had the connections, the people, and the blueprints from the original. We just recommended a few modifications—because the other one is an older model.”
As we walk, they show me each room. The voice, recording, and production rooms have removable walls. There’s a break room—and a music room too.
“What do you think, boss?”
“I love it,” Beacon answers. “And I’m no longer your boss.”
“Are we quitting The Organization?” Mane asks.
We all go silent.
Beacon shrugs. “What do you want? Forget about the accident and if I’ll be able to go back, or not. What do each one of you want?”
San calls Lang and brings him up to speed before putting him on speaker.
“I’m part of the Nerd Herd—your nerd specialist,” Lang answers. “I could do it—only with you. If you’re out, I’m retiring too. I do it because it keeps me close even when I have to be far because of work.”
“I do it for you,” Mane answers.
San is the one who surprises us when he says, “If they need me to go in, watch from afar to make sure no one dies, I might volunteer. It’s fun. I’m not in the field like you guys.”
“I’m out,” Fish says. “I’m done, I can’t do it again. Not after I almost lost one of my brothers.”
They all look at me. I smile. “I think I can still do some undercover work. Like go and play celebrity and get some tactical information—you guys could do it too. I just wouldn’t do anything in the field.”
“I’m with her,” Beacon says. “You guys know the information they provide us after a few drinks.”
“I could do that too,” Mane says, and the other two nod. “So, from now on, it’s just music then.”
Beacon nods. “Only music.”
“How are you feeling?” Blaire asks.
We’re sitting on the porch, drinking tea, and watching Arden play with Hadley—the new nanny. Or as we have to call her, our new friend. I’m not sure how Pierce worked around hiring her. All I know is that she’s been here since Beacon’s accident.
“And here I thought Hadley was a figment of your imagination,” I joke, kind of. They keep mentioning her, but Beacon and I have never seen her since we arrived. “We wondered if you hid her in the bunker.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “As you know, we set up a nursery-playroom at the factory. She’s either in Happy Springs, at the medical practice with us, or at Pierce’s office.”
“That explains why we haven’t seen her.” I bob my head, studying Hadley. I don’t believe I’ve seen her around town.
“You haven’t answered me. How are you doing?”
I take a moment to analyze her question. “Great.”
“This can’t be easy for you,” she states.
“Why not?” I ask, curious about her answer, but instead of letting her speak, I do it. “Beacon is alive. He’s finding a new rhythm—we’re finding our tune, so to speak. We’re together. That’s really what this is about, sharing everything. The good, the bad, and the fucked up. I had time to cry and be devastated. When he woke up from the coma, I knew the wallowing was over because we had to rebuild—together.”
She squeezes my hand. “I admire your courage and strength. I’m glad he has you.”
“We have each other,” I mumble.
Chapter Fifty
Beacon
Mills’ ice rink is ready. He convinces Hayes to let me skate. At least, skate like a four-year-old holding an ice skating trainer. The one-hour sessions leave me exhausted. My prize is going to the coffee shop for a hot cocoa. You’d think that it’d be easier to make one at home. It could be, but the lady waiting for me at the shop is my real reward.
“You’re doing great,” Mills says as we make our way to Main Street. “I wallowed in self-pity for a long time before getting real help.”
“I have Grace and all my family’s support.”
The word family is broad, it includes my brothers, my sisters-in-law, my band, and Grace’s family too. I’m so fucking lucky to have all of them with me.
He grins. “It seems like they’re serious about the family shit, doesn’t it?”
I nod. “Maybe if we had reached out to them…but it’s okay not to look back and just enjoy what’s happening.”
“I’m still not sure what the future is going to look like. We don’t have much time left around here,” he mumbles. “Are you staying?”
“Grace is too close to her family to take her away from them,” I state. “It doesn’t mean that I’m not coming back. It’s just that I can’t promise to stay. We’ll build a house, next to the big tree by the lake.”
“Your lucky spot?”
I nod. Ever since I came back from the accident, every evening I go there to watch the sunset. Sometimes it’s just me, other times Grace joins me. Some days all my brothers are there, because maybe Carter is there with us watching the promise of the next day. I want to believe that’s true.
“Listen, there’s no rush about what’s coming up next,” I remind him. “The possibilities are endless. You can always start your own hockey team. The Timberwolves of Baker’s Creek.”
He gives me a weird look.
“I’m kidding.”
“Grace mentioned it once, and I liked the idea back then. Now…” He shrugs. “I should do some research.”
“It’s a good first step,” I offer.
“How about you?”
I look at my crutches and shake my head. “I’m still unsure.”
Mason was here last Sunday. Actually, the Deckers moved the location of brunch and dinner so Grace and I could be there. Brunch was at my house and dinner was at Tucker’s place. My brothers actually enjoyed the big gathering. It’s the first time I made my famous French toast casserole for my family.
We spoke about my plans—I don’t have any. My future—it depends on how I recover. And The Organization—we’re changing roles when I’m better. Everything depends on when I can walk again.
“Did your boss fire you?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m taking a sabbatical. We’ll reassess everything once I’m well enough.”
The guys, Grace, and I decided to take different roles within the company. We’re not retired, but we’re not going back to the field. I guess none of us really thought about mortality until one of us had a brush with death. On the other hand, Vance might join The Organization once the Baker’s Creek sentence is lifted.
As we’re about to approach the coffee shop, I spot Grace chatting with Hadley. I’ve seen her only twice since we came to Baker’s Creek. G and I have joked about her being a ghost. We know she’s real only because Seth ran a background check on her before my brothers offered her the position.
“How’s she working out for you?”
“Arden adores her,” he states. The tone is a little off.
“So, we like her,” I tease him.
“She’s my son’s caregiver,” he mumbles under his breath.
“I mean, she’s cute,” I say with disdain. “If you’re into the whole petite-curvy-honey-colored-hair-girl-next-door vibe.”
He growls.
“Just give me a call. I’ll teach them a lesson,” Grace says as we’re approaching them.
“Who are you maiming?” I ask, instead of saying, your license to kill has been revoked. This town takes everything too literal.
After the explosion in my studio, they’re speculating about what happened. Some say I was trying to cash in on
the insurance money because I’m broke. Also, I’m an alcoholic—thank you tabloids for posting and printing shit about me after my accident.
“Some women who think we’re still in high school,” Grace answers, pushing herself on her tiptoes and kissing me.
“Have you met Hadley?”
“Daddy!” Arden screams and extends his arms when he spots Mills.
“Hey, sport,” he says, lifting him up and twirling him a couple of times.
“Hadley, I’m Beacon. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” I extend my hand.
She gives me a shy smile. “I hope you’re doing much better.”
I nod. “You know what we should do?”
Grace frowns. “Take a break?”
“I was thinking of going to the park.”
Arden’s eyes open wide. “Bark!”
“Park,” Hadley says, emphasizing the p.
Mill glares at me. “Beac, I don’t have time.”
“I can take him,” Hadley intercedes, reaching out for Arden. “Maybe we can go home for your tricycle and you can drive all the way to the park.”
Arden nods a couple of times.
“After what happened, you shouldn’t go by yourself,” Grace intercedes, then looks at Mills. “You need to go with them, okay. I need to take this guy home to rest in bed.”
“I’m all for missionary,” I say.
“Well, then join me, handsome.” She curls her index finger and I follow right behind.
“What happened to Hadley?”
She looks around and shakes her head. “Let’s just say she doesn’t have any fond memories of growing up in Baker’s Creek.”
“That usually does the trick,” I agree and remain quiet until we reach the mansion. “Do you think they look good together?”
“Hadley and Mills?” She shakes her head. “I don’t see matchmaking in your future.”
“I’ve never tried it before,” I protest.
She turns around and smiles at me. “She’s nice. She likes Arden, but she’s leaving soon. Our boy already has enough heartache to get through to add another one. Same with your brother.”
Call You Mine Page 27