by Erika Kelly
It made Coco smile. “Tomorrow, Beckett’s going to make us his famous quinoa.” She kicked the step stool over to the sink. “Come on. Wash those slobbery hands.”
Posie climbed on, as Coco ran the water and squirted soap onto her hands. “What’s kee-wah?”
Beckett reached for a plastic cup. “It’s like rice.”
“I don’t like rice.”
“It’s like pasta.” He poured the milk.
“I don’t like pasta.”
“Since when don’t you like pasta?” Coco asked. “What do you think macaroni and cheese is?”
“I like macaroni and cheese. I don’t like pasta.”
Handing her a dish towel, he waited for her to dry her hands before handing off the milk. “Quinoa’s like ice cream.”
“It is? I love ice cream.”
Coco rolled her eyes. “What do you say to Beckett?”
She chugged the milk, like a frat boy at a kegger. “Thank you, Beckett.”
“Sure.” After putting the milk back in the refrigerator, he pulled open the top drawer. “Look at all these vegetables. Perfect for my quinoa.”
“You’re putting vegetables in my ice cream?” Posie sounded appalled.
“Sweetie, he was kidding. Quinoa doesn’t actually taste like ice cream. It’s like rice, only he puts special flavors in it.”
“I don’t want any.”
Coco cut Beckett a look. “The fun part is that I didn’t say how long I’d need the babysitting. My parents have this cabin, and I’ve been dying for some alone-time.”
On his way to the cabinet, he passed her, leaning in close. “Have I ever shown you my gold medals? I have five of them. Know how I got them? By not quitting. That’s right. Champions aren’t quitters.”
“Well, this isn’t snowboarding, and your tricks won’t work on a five-year-old, so unless you put actual ice cream in your kee-wah, you’ll have to pry her jaw open and spoon it in if you’re going to win this bet.”
Posie sat at the table. Up on her knees, she reached for a crayon from the cup and started drawing on the butcher block paper spread across it. Coco pulled a spatula out of the drawer and started for the table.
Beckett caught up to her. “What do you think about the Jessie situation? Do we leave it alone, and let her handle it? Or do we do something?”
“What did you say to her?”
“First, I asked if she wanted to tell you or her teacher. She said no. Then we play-acted. I pretended I was Posie, and he was Jessie.”
“Seriously? That’s so cool. What happened?”
“I told her we’d make fairy bracelets for her friends, so that they could all fly around the room with her. Jessie can’t bully her if she’s got backup.”
“That’s pretty clever. I would never have thought of that. I just hope the other kids don’t reject the bracelets and join in on ridiculing her.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Did I just make things worse?”
“You know, there’s no right or wrong answers to any of these situations. We just have to wing it. Why don’t I talk to their parents first, tell them we’re making the bracelets and ask if their kids want them? That way, we’re not giving them out randomly to kids who might join forces with Jessie. And then, if it happens again, I’ll talk to the teacher.”
“We’ll talk to her.” His expression said, We’re in this together, remember?
And it was the damnedest thing because she was starting to believe him.
Hope sizzled in her chest.
He might just stay.
Chapter Sixteen
Carrying her tea to the living room, Coco warmed at the sight of Beckett’s big body sprawled on her couch. This late into July, nightfall didn’t come until after eight, so they hadn’t turned on any lamps yet. The light from his phone lit up his features, revealing a rare troubled expression.
She curled up in a corner. “Everything all right?”
He tugged on his scruff. She wasn’t used to having such a masculine presence in her home, and she loved it. Loved the pop of his biceps, the hairy, muscular thighs, and bare man-feet.
“It’s my mom.”
“I thought you haven’t talked to her in seventeen years?”
“I haven’t. But she’s been reaching out.”
“What does she want?” she asked quietly.
“No idea.”
Smiling, she nudged him with a foot. Talk to me. “What was your last conversation with her?”
“You really want to know?”
While she didn’t think she could bear to hear how that woman had hurt Beckett, she nodded solemnly. She very much wanted to know.
“The last time I talked to my mom, I was twelve and a half. My dad and I were eating pizza at the kitchen table. It had been six months since Ari died, and I hadn’t gone back to the academy. I’d wanted to be with my family. For some stupid reason, I’d thought Ari’s death would pull us together.”
“But that didn’t happen.”
“Ha. No. Basically, I stayed in my room, Dad had the living room with the TV on all the time, and my mom…she went on more trips than ever. I can’t even tell you where she went, but we hardly saw her, and when we did, she ignored us.”
“I know you said she disappeared, but didn’t she take the time to talk to you? Just to make sure you were okay?”
“No. So, at that six month point my dad decided we were going to do family dinners. He told my mom and me he was ordering pizza and to be in the dining room at seven. She, of course, didn’t show up, so it was just me and Dad silently eating. Swear to God, that pizza tasted like cardboard. I just wanted to go to my room. All of a sudden, my mom comes downstairs carrying a suitcase.” He closed his eyes, and she could see the memory play across his features as if he were watching a movie. “Nothing unusual, right? She was always taking trips.”
Setting her tea down, she moved closer to him, resting her head on his chest.
“Only this time, she wasn’t coming back.”
She pressed a hand to his thigh, wishing so much he’d put his arm around her. Just so she knew he didn’t feel alone.
But he stayed still. “She said, ‘Every time I look at you two I see Ari, and I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t stand to see your faces.’ And she walked out the door.”
No. How could a mother say something like that?
She could see that little boy at the table, forcing down a mouthful of pizza, while his mom cut out his heart. Reduced him to a wad of gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
Coco hated that woman.
Hated her.
“That was the last time my mother talked to me.”
Hit with shock, disgust, and compassion for that twelve-year-old boy, Coco couldn’t hold it in another second. “That’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard. I am so sorry.”
“Not long after that, I went back to the academy.” He shrugged. “Life went on.”
“What your mother did is inexcusable.”
“Right. And now she wants to talk.”
“Do you know why?” Cancer sprang to mind. The woman was dying and wanted to make peace? But she kept it to herself.
“My dad thinks she wants to make amends.”
“What do her emails say?”
“They’re short. The first one said, Hey, can we talk?” He chuffed. “After seventeen years of radio silence.”
“Did you answer her?”
“Nah.”
During that first conversation in Vegas six years ago, he’d blamed his rootlessness on his need to break free from the regimented life of a professional athlete. But now, she had no doubt he was on the run from emotional attachments. Because, for him, they hurt.
That’s all he’s ever known. A mom who didn’t love him, a dad who wasn’t there for him, and a sister—that he loved with all his heart—who died.
Her heart ached to give him love, to welcome him into the comfort of her family.
Would he ever be able to
trust people again? After a childhood like that? “Do you have any good memories of your mom?”
“Sure, I do. She was fun as hell. She didn’t make dinner, but we could eat ice cream out of the carton. She didn’t follow rules, so we could stay up as late as we wanted.”
“Memories of her. With her.”
He seemed to give it some thought, before breaking out in a soft smile. “Every time she came back from a trip, she’d tell us stories. It was the only time I saw her happy. Most of the time, I had no idea what she was talking about, but those were the only times I got her attention.”
“Well, I can see why you wouldn’t want to hear her out, but I’m kind of curious what she wants after all these years.”
“The thing is…there’s nothing she could tell me that would change anything. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, how I’d feel if she said, ‘I’m sorry. I did a shitty thing, and I regret it.’”
“And? How would you feel?”
He shrugged. “I don’t care. She didn’t put in the effort when I was a kid, so…the attachment just isn’t there.” Under those long lashes, he flicked his gaze over to her. “Maybe I’m a callous ass, but I don’t care about her excuses.”
“No, you’re not. I’ve seen you with Posie.” I know how you are with me. “You’re anything but callous.”
He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, features tensing. “Part of the problem with my lifestyle is the way it’ll hurt Posie.” He straightened. “I remember what it felt like when my mom was away. I knew she wanted to be anywhere but home with me. And I don’t want Posie to feel that, not for one minute of her life. That’s why I’m not pushing to tell her I’m her dad.”
“Except in this situation, it will never be that you don’t want to be with her. It’s different. She’ll know you do.”
Wait, am I telling him his lifestyle’s okay?
I think I am.
“I don’t want her to sit on a couch with someone when she’s twenty-nine and have this same conversation about her father. ‘He didn’t put in the effort when I was a kid, so the attachment just isn’t there.’” He looked so damn lost.
Oh, God. She reached for his hand, clasped it, and brought it to her mouth for a kiss. “That won’t happen. You’re nothing like your mom. Nothing. You’re a passionate, deeply caring man.”
He eyed her warily.
“I see you with Posie. Come on, the way you are with me?” That’s passion. “With a mom like that, you could’ve become a serial killer. But you didn’t. You went back to the academy and became a champion.”
“I didn’t go back because of some passion for boarding.”
“You wanted to make Ari proud?”
He nodded, scraping his palm across his scruffy jaw. “After my mom left, my dad made sure to sit down with me for dinner. And then one night we were talking, and he told me he didn’t know what happened when people died, but that he had a hard time believing our minds, our psyches, just disappear. And that meant, in some way, Ari’s spirit was still around, and it would kill her to see us living such sad lives. He said nothing would thrill her more than to know I was on the slopes, doing the tricks that used to make her so damn happy and winning competitions. Between that and the comment my aunt made…”
“Oh, wow. I can’t think of anything more motivating than that.”
“Yeah, it worked. I was back within a week. About a year or two later, my coach said he’d never worked with an athlete as driven as I was.” He gave her a sweet, adoring look and sifted his fingers through her hair. “I did it for Ari.”
“She would’ve been so proud, watching you win all those medals.” She squeezed his hand.
“Before a ride, we’re supposed to visualize our runs. That’s what we’re doing at the starting gate, visualizing. But, for me, I was thinking about Ari. Pretending she was there in the crowd, imagining her screaming and pumping her fist. So that’s why I won. Because I was picturing her face when they announced my score.” As he quietly stroked her hair, she couldn’t help wondering what he was feeling.
“You’re nothing like your mom.”
“I’m not so sure about that. But, honestly? She’s the last thing on my mind right now. Her emails just annoy me. The only thing I can think about is you and Posie. I want to do right by both of you. And I don’t think I know how.”
Standing in the mud room, the late day sun warming his back, Beckett took Chris’s call. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Hey. We need to have a conversation.”
This doesn’t sound good. “Okay. Shoot.” He glanced over when he heard Coco laugh, and he breathed in the scents of laundry detergent and baking bread.
“Look, we know you’ve got a lot on your plate. You’ve been walloped with some pretty big news, but we’ve only got one shot at this business. It either takes off, or we’re screwed.”
“I know that. And Jimmy’s doing a great job.” They couldn’t possibly have an issue with his friend. “He’s up for anything we throw at him, I’ve talked to my contacts, and they only have good things to say about him…he really wants to do this with us.”
“It’s not about Jimmy. It’s about our growth. Did you get the data we sent?”
“Yeah.”
“Look at when sales flattened out. It was right when you decided to take time off.”
“I haven’t missed a single event. The only blip we had was Willow, but I got Jimmy in there right away, and we haven’t missed a beat.”
“Beckett, man, you’re missing the point. When you disappeared from our online presence, sales growth flattened. You’re our partner. You’re the face people expect to see. They’re not seeing you, they’re not as interested in watching people jump off mountains. Nothing against Jimmy, but he’s not you. So, you’ve got to get back out there, and you’ve got to do it now.”
Dammit. He hated this power they had over him. “I disagree. I’ve been doing some research.” Specifically, he’d looked at the competition. “What we need are more guys in the field covering more events. That flattening comes because we only have so much content. We get three of us out there, and that curve’s going to start climbing again.”
“We can’t afford to hire more people.”
And I can’t afford time away from my girls. So, he had to sell his plan. “We knew at some point we’d need equity to grow. That’s the way it works.”
“Hell, no. Private equity’s going to take over, and you know it. We’ll go from being owners to employees. That’s what we’re trying to avoid. Come on, man. The facts are in the data. We don’t know why growth has flattened, we only know it coincides with you taking the summer off.” His friend went quiet, and Beckett tensed. He had an uneasy feeling he knew what was coming.
They were going to call him out on nonperformance. And, as long as he sat on his ass in Calamity, they’d have a right to do that.
Fuck. He’d worked so damn hard on this. He’d worked countless hours to bring his vision to fruition.
He couldn’t walk away from it.
But I’m not going half-ass on my relationship with Coco and Posie, either.
He honestly didn’t think he could stand to be away from them for most of the year. Then, what’re you going to do about it? “You don’t want private equity, then I’ll pay someone out of my own pocket. Because more content is what’s going to gain us new subscribers. For the next three months, I’ll put my money where my mouth is. If the numbers go up, they’ll join our team, and we’ll reassess. Okay?”
Chris let out a breath. “I’ll talk to Dave about it. Listen, you know how much we respect you. This concept was yours, and we appreciate the opportunity you gave us to work with you on it. But we also know, without a doubt, that if the situation were reversed, if I were the one who’d found out I had a kid, and I’d had to take time off a couple months into our launch and our growth had flattened, you’d be having this same conversation with me.”
Before he’d found his girls
…yeah, he probably would have. But the world had changed for him. “I’ll talk to a few guys I know and, if they’re on board, I’ll run them by you.”
“Sounds good.” Chris disconnected.
Reeling from the call, he pressed his forehead to the cool windowpane and let it sink in.
The idea that they’d boot him out of the business he’d spent the last six years building ground through him.
It wasn’t just the money—though, he’d sunk a good amount of his savings into it. This was his career. He didn’t have anything else.
It’s my life. This was my vision, my concept.
He needed to see it through.
Sounds from the kitchen worked their way through his mental battle, and he listened to Posie chattering aimlessly, while her mom added comments here and there.
He wanted his business and his family, but the two lifestyles weren’t compatible.
So, what do I do?
Until they saw real growth, he had to get back out there. Even if he hired someone, he still had to meet his contractual obligations.
Would FaceTime and text messages enable him to stay close while he traveled? If he came home after every trip, would that be enough?
Coco turned up the music, and a chair scraped back. He stepped forward to watch as mother and daughter shook their bottoms to a Taylor Swift song.
Happiness curled around him. And it was the strangest damn thing to feel this way when nothing exceptional was happening. He’d always chased excitement, thought contentment came from a thrilling life. But, now, just cooking beside Coco or folding laundry while she worked at the kitchen table…those quiet moments…that’s where the joy lives.
Even before Ari died, his home life had felt…unsafe. He’d had a roof over his head and two parents, and yet he’d gone hungry, dirty…uncared for.
Countless nights he’d gone to sleep with the covers drawn up to his nose, terrified of something he couldn’t name.
Most nights, he’d lie in bed feeling uneasy.
Lost.
And that’s it, right there.
For the first time in his life, he felt safe. Under this roof, with his daughter and Coco, it felt like home.