by Fredrick, MJ
“Andrew has been very good to all of us, and I’m very good at being his wife, helping him move up in his career.”
“But was that your dream? I don't understand. Why would you marry a soldier if that was what you thought you wanted?”
“Because good soldier’s wives can help a soldier move up in his career, also. But out here in the middle of nowhere, Tony didn't have that same opportunity. I thought he would get transferred away, eventually, but when he was passed over that last time, because no one else wants to come to this place, I had to save myself.”
“I don't understand why you don't see how selfish that was.” Lacey’s stomach twinged again and she put her hand on the mound of it as if that could ease the pain.
“I know it was selfish. I admit that it was. But I was able to offer better opportunities for your brothers and sister because of it. Even your college was paid because of it.”
“But you said, “for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer,’ when you made your vows to Dad. Why couldn't you keep them?”
“I had to save myself, Lace. I would have killed myself if I had to stay. Then the four of you would have been motherless, and your father would have been alone anyway. I thought every day about how to do it. Every day. And every day I thought that I couldn't do it because one of you would find me.”
Tears sprang to Lacey’s eyes and she reached out a hand to touch her mother. “Mom. Oh my God. You had depression.”
Joyce’s gaze fell away, but when she looked back at Lacey, her expression was determined. “For a long time I thought it was just depression, you know, how you think about it as a passing thing, when you say you’re depressed about something in particular. But it never went away. Never. I just thought I had to get away, get you kids away, before you started feeling the same way. I couldn't make your father understand, and of course he couldn't do anything anyway because he wanted to be a career man, and I had to go.”
Lacey tightened her hand around her mother’s, her own heart aching at the pain Joyce had endured silently. “Why did you never tell me any of this before? Why did you let me believe you were just thinking of yourself?”
“Because I was.”
“But Mom, no, you weren’t.” Everything, everything fell away. Lacey wished she could have known this years ago, so they could have worked through it then. But learning it now, while hard, was liberating. Her mother had had no choice. She hadn’t left to be selfish. She had left because she didn't know any other way. “You were desperate and I completely understand that now. I always thought you were just bored. And now I can see, you know, I can see why you never wanted to come back here. And since nothing’s changed, it has to be just horrible to remember feeling that way. I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.” She pulled her mother into her arms. “I’m so sorry.”
They held onto each other for a few minutes, and Lacey could feel tension draining from her mother.
“Maybe I should go back to the hotel to freshen up before we go to breakfast,” Joyce said after a few minutes, drawing away and wiping at her eyes.
“You and me both,” Lacey said, but Leonard had gone across to check on their table and called to them from the door of the diner.
The place was noisy with all the people treating themselves, and the two waitresses were running from table to table, swapping menus for coffee cups, slinging napkin-wrapped silverware to each customer. The stimulation was hard to deal with after her mother’s revelation.
The crackers were a knot in Lacey’s stomach, and the smell of the bacon and sausage cooking turned her stomach. At this point, all she wanted was buttered toast, maybe some jam.
The warm room didn't help her reaction. The restaurant not accustomed to all these bodies. But she supposed every Sunday morning was like this.
She sat beside her mom, and every once in a while, her mom reached over and squeezed her hand, and Lacey squeezed back. As the noise in the restaurant faded to white noise, she realized that her mother’s confession affected her whole attitude.
Her mother had left town because she had depression. The town had not helped that, but the town was not the reason she left. If she had been treated, she might have been able to find ways to find pleasure in the town, made friends, so many things that would have made a difference in her enjoyment of the town. She could have driven to San Angelo for the stimulation she needed. She could have leaned a little harder on her husband.
How much had her dad known? Did he know that Joyce had been diagnosed now?
Lacey realized that all the reasons she was holding onto, afraid Beck would want to leave because he’d be bored, didn't matter anymore. As long as they had honesty between them, they could deal with any restlessness that either of them had. And if he really did hate it here, she could go with him, wherever he wanted to go, as long as he wanted her. Her dad didn't need her anymore. He had Marianne. So while Lacey loved this town, and her friends, she wasn't tethered to it like she had been.
Like she thought she had been.
She needed to talk to Beck. Before the shower. She needed to talk to him.
He wasn't at the diner. She thought he might be here, thought maybe he and his mother could sit with her family, but maybe the crowd was too much for his mom.
Once breakfast was done, she decided to make the drive out to his place. She wasn't sure he’d be there, but in case he was...at least they’d be mostly alone to talk without interruption.
She didn't tense as she usually did when she made the turn onto the road. In fact, she was excited, her emotions bubbling. The babies must have sensed her excitement, because they were kicking and squirming as much as they could with the little bit of room they had left.
She slowed as she turned onto the property. Beck’s home was north of the barn at the far end of the property, facing toward the creek but above it. She hadn’t been out in a couple of weeks, because Mrs. Conover had been going to see Austin, who then sent her to San Angelo for more tests. Beck had assured Lacey he’d take care of the house and meals, since Lacey did have a lot going on with her family in town.
So she hadn’t seen the progress he’d made on the house. She parked in front of his mother’s house and walked around to the construction area, quiet today. The walls and roof were on. The walls were covered with Tyvek, unfinished but protected. Lots and lots of windows were placed at even intervals, and a porch, deep and long, on three sides of the house, that she could see. She remembered telling him how if she lived out here, she’d want a big porch to enjoy the view, and she wondered if he remembered that conversation, too.
Cautiously, she made her way to the wooden constructions steps and pulled herself up on the porch, liking the sound of her shoes on the new wood.
He hadn’t hung a front door, which worried her a little, because they were out in the middle of nowhere and she’d seen coyotes on the road near here. She hoped that none had decided to explore the interior of the house. She walked into the maze of two-by-sixes, no sheetrock yet, and jumped about a foot when she saw Beck standing over a plank of wood on a saw horse. She had a moment to appreciate him, bare-chested, broad-shouldered, muscles flexing, before he looked up and met her gaze, his eyes going wide.
He reached behind him for his shirt, pulled it over his head quickly. “Lace! What are you doing here? You should be getting some rest before the shower.”
“I came to talk to you, but I didn't know you’d be out here. I was just being nosy.”
“Yeah? What do you think?” His face eased into a smile. “Let me show you around. Watch your step.” He moved toward her and took her elbow to guide her through the site.
“I can’t believe you’ve gotten so much done in such a little amount of time.”
“Yeah, the walls are going up this week, and the plumbing next. I mean, the pipes are all hooked up and everything, but I’m talking the sink and the toilets and all that. I’m having professionals install those.”
“Good plan.”
&n
bsp; “So here’s the kitchen, and I have a door here that goes out to the wrap-around porch. The railing for that is not scheduled until down the road a little ways. You’ve got the sink here, with a window over it so you can watch the kids play while you’re cleaning up, or whatever. Going to put an island here.” He turned her to show her, stretching his arms down the center of the room. “It’ll have a little spot for barstools or whatever. Oven here, refrigerator here.” He turned her back to the wall.
The oven vent had already been installed, so she could see where it was going.
“Lots of cabinets, those are going in after the plumbing. Going to go with cement countertops.”
“Cement?”
He lifted a shoulder. “It’s a thing. Supposed to be easy to clean. Tile floor in here, also easy to keep clean, but wood floors in the rest of the house. That’s another month away, I’d say. I was going to try to do it myself, but that seems a little nerve-racking to me, so I’m going to pay someone to do it. Come this way. I’ll show you the bedrooms and the bathrooms.
“It’s going to be four bedrooms, two and a half baths, and instead of a separate dining room, it’s just going to have a big living area. Part of that can be a dining room, but for now I’m not planning one. So this is the master bedroom, and it’s got French doors that go out to the porch on this side. Got a great view of the cliffs.”
He motioned her to the door and indeed, great view of the cliffs.
“This would be a great place to have a little table, have coffee in the morning. We can’t see the sunrise or sunset from here, but it’s still a pretty place.”
He led her into the bathroom, describing a tub and shower combination, more cabinets, before he showed her the other bedrooms and bathrooms. She could only listen to his words, because she really couldn't figure out the rooms and everything, when the walls were still open. Everything looked like it was going to be small.
He walked her back out to the wrap-around porch. “So what do you think?”
“I think it’s beautiful.” Big for one man. Four bedrooms. Sounded like something for a family.
“You came looking for me? What did you need?”
“I, ah.” She put some distance between them, wishing there was a rail to lean against or something. “I came because I wanted to ask you something, and you can say no if you want to.”
“Go ahead,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.
She tried to push the image of what he looked like without a shirt out of her head. “I was going to ask if you would be in the delivery room with me, when it’s time.”
His hands fell to his sides instantly, his mouth going slack. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I kept thinking about how you made me feel last night when I was so scared, and how I was calmer with you there, and I want you to be in the room when the babies are born.” She forced herself to meet his gaze, to watch his reaction as he processed her request.
“I would love to be there with you,” he said, his voice soft, almost reverent. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“I thought about it, a lot. And I want you there. Poppy, too, you know, but you, also.”
He nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Lacey.”
She nodded. “I need to tell you why I want you there.”
“You did.”
“No, I...I’ve been thinking about you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and how wonderful you’ve been to me, and how I keep pushing you away because I’m scared you’re going to leave me.”
“Yeah, well, that’s understandable, I guess.”
“But it’s not. You’re not like my mother. I had a long talk with her this morning that helped me understand why she left, and I thought about how unfair I’ve been to you when you’ve told me time and again you weren’t going to leave. And I thought about, you know, how even if you do want to go, that I’m not tied here anymore. I mean, I love the town, I love what I do, I love my dad, but I’m not tied here. If you got tired of the place and you wanted to go, I—we—could go with you. If you wanted.”
God, keeping eye contact while saying that was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she was rewarded by watching the confusion in his eyes give way to warmth and—joy?
“What are you saying, Lace? Are you saying you’ll take me up on my proposal?”
“I mean.” She dropped her gaze then, not meaning to shame him into a proposal. “I’m not asking you for anything.”
“I’m asking you,” he said, stepping closer. “If I ask again, will you say no?”
She looked up into his eyes as he took her hand. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes that made her feel steady and strong. That made her want things she hadn’t allowed herself to believe she could have.
She took a deep breath. “No. As long ask you know, you want me for myself and not because you feel sorry for me. For us.” She felt like she needed to remind him he was getting a package deal.
The smile that spread across his face took her breath away, and she pressed her free hand to her chest when he dropped down on one knee.
“I think this is probably the best place to do this, in the home I want to share with you, the home I built with you in mind.” He hadn’t released her hand, now stroked the back of it with the fingertips of his other hand. “I love you, Lacey Davila. I love your heart. I love your generosity. I love your strength. I didn't think there was anything here in Broken Wheel for me. I thought I’d be here and gone in a day. I’m so glad I stayed and found you. Will you marry me?”
She pulled her hand free, and saw the pain slash across his face. But she put her hand on his shoulder, the other on one of the posts of the porch, and with no small effort, lowered herself to her knees in front of him.
“Lace.”
“No, let me,” she said, settling on her knees, wanting to be on the same level with him. “You have been there for me in the worst times of my life, and the best,” she said. “The bad times were made better because you were there, and the good times were made the best, because you were there. You say you love those things about me, but you make me feel those things. When I’m scared, thinking of you makes me strong. When I don't want to do something, thinking of you makes me generous. When I don't think I’m worthy of love, thinking of you makes me believe that I am.” Tears were flowing down her cheeks, and through her blurred vision, she thought she saw tears on his cheeks, as well. “You rescued me once upon a time, and I was scared of letting you do it again. But I realized that’s who you are, and that’s the man I love.”
He pulled her close, his hands on her waist, and covered her mouth with his. She wound her arms around his neck to bring him closer, holding him to her and opening herself to him, that bubble of elation she’d felt earlier expanding and expanding until she felt like it was surrounding both of them.
He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.
“I have a ring, but it’s in my mom’s house, and I’d just as soon not go get it right now.”
“You have a ring?”
“I bought it the first time I went to go meet the architect for the house. This is your house, Lace. I remember how you told me you’d love a house with a big porch, and I thought maybe, at first, the babies could sleep in the same room, you know, but since it’s a boy and a girl, they’ll eventually want their own rooms, and I’d like to have at least one more kid. And if there’s any changes you want to the floors or the hardware or any of that, there’s still time to change it. I built this for you.”
She didn't want to think about the house. She wouldn't even know what to ask for. Everything he’d described sounded beautiful. Maybe, after the excitement of today, she could look at pictures of what he’d planned and give input. But right now she just wanted to savor their time together.
“I wish we didn't have the shower to go to,” she said with a sigh, lowering herself to her bottom when kneeling became too painful.
He lowered himself beside her. “What are you talking a
bout? We can make it a double celebration—baby shower and announce our engagement. It’s going to be a great day.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
BECK’S HEART WAS POUNDING as they walked into The Wheel House, holding hands. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, brushing across the ring he’d put on her finger. The style was perfect for her, a diamond set into a platinum band, so it wouldn't catch on anything when she was taking care of the babies or going about her nursing duties.
He couldn't believe she’d come out to the house to look for him today, couldn't believe he was going to be her husband, the father of her kids. On the drive over, they’d talked briefly about when they’d get married. He wanted to get married before the babies came, but that didn't leave a lot of time, since she was due in just over a month.
Their friends and family were waiting for them—he’d called Con to pick up his mom on the way, since Beck wanted to get to Lacey’s early and give her her ring.
The second party they’d had here in less than a month, and the ladies had done a great job decorating the stage and the area around it with pastel colors. The table was set with two matching cakes that looked like babies sleeping with their butts in the air, and presents were piled on the stage, some of the boxes making him glad he had brought his truck.
Poppy was the first to notice them standing there, holding hands. Her eyebrows shot up as she looked at her friend, and she hurried over.
“Welcome, little mama,” she said loudly, but her gaze went pointedly to their joined hands, and her eyes went even wider. She reached down and grabbed Lacey’s hand away from Beck’s.
“What’s that?” she demanded, holding up the ring for inspection.
“Beck proposed,” Lacey said.
“A second time,” Beck reminded her.
Squeals echoed throughout the crowd, and Beck felt Lacey being torn away from him, embraced by her friends. Her father pulled her out of the mob of friends and hugged her, then reached for Beck’s hand.