“I was talking to my mum,” he stuttered.
“Oh. I hope everything is okay.”
“Not to worry.” He paused. “I’m happy for you.”
I could feel excitement bubbling up in me. “Me, too. I get to buy Noah his gaming console and I’m going to save the rest to help pay for the puppies.”
He sighed, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of frustration mixed in.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Do something for yourself with the money. Don’t worry about the puppies. We’ll deal with that next month.”
“I can’t do that. Those puppies are my responsibility, too.”
“You are stubborn.” He exhaled loudly. “At least take Noah to a show. Do it for your mum.”
The darn tears were back. I sniffled some.
“Are you crying, love?”
“Maybe.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t. I just miss my mother. I feel so lost when it comes to raising Noah and knowing what to do all the time. My momma would probably want me to take Noah to a show, but I know I’ll feel guilty about it thinking about all the other things we should have spent it on, puppies included.” I pulled into the parking lot while I waited for his reply.
“Do you work tonight?” That was unexpected.
“No. I don’t go back to Bangers until the day after Christmas.”
“There will be two tickets waiting for you at will call at the Grand Ole Opry.”
“No!”
“Happy Christmas, love.” He hung up on me.
I stared at my phone for a moment trying to get a grip on what had just happened. One thing for sure was, we were not done with this conversation. I tried to call him back, but he didn’t answer. I left a voice message. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I don’t need your pity. We barely know each other and I find it highly inappropriate for you to purchase such a gift. And just because you buy them doesn’t mean we will be using them. I’m heading into work now, but don’t think this is over, Mr. Beckett! Cheerio!” Stupid Englishman.
I waited for him to respond, but I had to get into work. Gigi, one of my personal training clients, would be arriving any moment.
I hustled into the gym and pulled up her schedule on my tablet. I also looked over her progression and was pleased with how far she had come. I loved clients like her that really strived to make permanent changes. I knew it was hard, but she was making excellent progress.
Seconds before Gigi arrived, I received a text. I plan on us getting to know each other very well when I return. Have a good day at work. Call me when you get a moment.
Oh, he was good—too good. My heart was pitter-pattering out of control thinking about the fact he wanted to get to know me very well. I almost forgot I was upset with him, and I had a job to do. All I wanted to do was call him, and kiss him, and kiss him some more.
“Call.” My daydream was interrupted by Gigi.
I turned to find her decked out in a red Lycra body suit. Her hair and makeup were done up, too. I loved her.
“Good morning. You look festive.”
“Merry Christmas, darlin’.”
“You ready to feel the burn?”
“You look like you already have.”
I reached up and touched my warm cheeks.
“You cooking up a little holiday romance?”
I shook my head no.
“Your cheeks and smile say something different.”
“So maybe I’m flirting with disaster.”
“Disaster?”
“He has it written all over him.”
“I don’t see you with a loser, hun.”
I laughed some. “He’s definitely not that, but he’s the kind of man you either don’t want to recover from, or you can’t.”
Her brown eyes smiled. “I know that kind of man. Married a couple of them.”
“Are you still married?”
“Yes, ma’am. My first husband died in the Gulf War.”
I reached out and touched her arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too, but I’ve been blessed to find love twice. Don’t you be afraid of this fella. If he’s smart, he’s probably more afraid of you.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Keep me posted, would ya? I adore a good love story.”
“Let’s go do some squats.”
“I still want details.” She followed after me.
Part of me was really hoping there would be details.
Chapter Thirteen
“I can’t believe you talked me into going.”
“I apologize, the only night they had tickets available was Christmas Eve.”
“Please don’t. I already feel terrible taking them. I’m only doing it because you told Noah about them. You don’t play fair.”
“I was only checking on Sasha and I happened to mention it.”
“By the way, thanks for asking Noah to another hockey game. He obviously doesn’t get a lot of guy time at our house.”
“He’s a great kid.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-four, why?”
“The way you said kid, it sounded very parental.”
“Well I am a godfather.”
“That’s right. Your friend Christopher mentioned that in his reference letter. Is that awkward?”
“Not at all. I told you, we are the best of mates.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You still don’t believe me?”
“I want to.” My hand flew up to my big mouth. I knew as soon as those words came out of my mouth, they were the wrong thing to say.
“Do you now? And why is that, love?”
“You know . . . for your own wellbeing.” I was such a liar.
“How thoughtful of you.”
“I do try.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason?”
“What other reason would there be?” I used my coy-while-lying voice.
“Perhaps you are hoping, like me, that you have no other romantic entanglements.”
I sat down on my bed and tried to remain cool and collected while my insides sizzled. “And what if I don’t?”
“I think you are a smart enough woman to figure out why that would please me. Do have a lovely time tonight. Happy Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you and your family.” I barely was able to say the words. He had me so flummoxed. I wasn’t confused about his intentions, but about how I should proceed. Obviously, with extreme caution. But the problem was, I didn’t want to. I wanted to hurl myself head first into pursuing him.
I was glad Jillian was coming with us tonight. We rarely got to do a night on the town together. She bought a ticket and even managed to get one next to us, and afterward we were doing dessert and midnight mass. She was going gaga over all my Englishman updates. I told her we had to keep it under wraps tonight. I didn’t want Noah to, one, get his hopes up, because I had the feeling he was on board with that idea; and, two, I was sure he would pass information on to the man in question.
The man that was consuming my thoughts and free time with phone calls. I wasn’t complaining. He had me feeling things I hadn’t in a long time, like alive. My music was benefiting from it, too. I could hear it not only when I performed, but when I practiced at home. My passion had been missing until very recently. I could feel the magic again when my hands connected with the keys on my piano. I had longed for it, and wasn’t sure it was ever coming back. Mourning for Momma and all that we had lost, and just trying to keep my head above water had zapped it out of me. But Mr. Beckett was working his own kind of sorcery on me. And boy, was he good at it.
We settled into the orchestra level, center stage seats. Of course he went for the priciest seats. The theater had plenty of seats available, so he could have sprung for some on the balcony level. I was already planning his gift for when he returned as a thank you. It was going to include that dess
ert we were going to be sharing—his favorite, Victoria sponge cake. He divulged that tidbit yesterday when we spoke. I already researched a recipe. I found myself counting down the days until his return on the thirtieth. The more we talked, the more I liked him and imagined myself in his arms. I probably shouldn’t. Who knew where this was headed?
I sat in between Noah and Jillian. I reached over and squeezed Noah’s hand once. He looked so grown up tonight in a button-up shirt and tie. I was planning on giving him his gaming console as soon as we returned from church. I was too excited to wait until the sun came up. It would technically be Christmas anyway when we got home.
Noah smirked at me and shook his head. He didn’t like it when I got mushy.
“Did you know I wanted to be a Rockette when I grew up?” Jillian asked.
“I could see it. You have beautiful, long legs.”
She laughed. “Too bad I have no rhythm and can’t dance to save my life.”
She had come to one of my Zumba classes, and she spoke the truth. “Maybe you could practice slow dancing with Cole Pendleton. I read this morning that he’s heading back to Nashville after his tour is over to record a new album in the spring.”
“Shhh. Will you please keep it down? Nashville has big ears.”
“I thought you said nothing happened between you two?”
“It didn’t. Besides, he has dealt with some of the same demons as Danny and I can’t do that again.”
“Yeah, but unlike Danny, he was willing to face them and get help.” His battles had been highly publicized.
“I’m happy for him, but what happened between us was an emotional outburst fueled by the lateness of the night, the fact I hate flying, and maybe because I downed one of those little bottles of vodka on the plane, okay?”
I laughed at her and leaned in closer to whisper. “Or maybe it was fate and he’s been thinking about you as much as I know you think about him.”
She nudged me with a smile. “The show’s about to begin. And you’re one to talk. I know you’re thinking of all the reasons why you shouldn’t pursue Beck. Heck, you won’t even call him by his name.”
“Mr. Beckett is his name.”
“You can’t keep calling him that.”
“Why not?”
Her cute scrunched up face told me I was a little off my rocker.
“I can’t call him Beck. Seriously, what are the odds?”
“From the sounds of it, I would say favorable,” she purred.
I rolled my eyes at her. “We’re just talking.”
“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t buying what I was selling. And I will admit, it was crap.
The music to the Christmas Spectacular began and we all turned our attention toward the stage. Even though I had seen the show a dozen times, I still felt like a girl. I wished Daddy was there to hold my hand, or that Momma could whisper in my ear that someday it would be me up on that stage performing. But that night I was grateful to be in between my best friend and my sweet, although quiet, brother, and most especially for an Englishman who didn’t take no for an answer. He had no idea what his gift meant to me.
I thought more about him as the show went on. I wondered how midnight mass went with his family. He said his sister was coming for the occasion. I guess they didn’t get along all that well and hadn’t seen each other in quite some time. She was a content producer for a social media company in London. It sounded like she annoyed him with her talk of all things trending. And she rarely made time for family from what he said, even though she only lived twenty minutes from her parents. I got the feeling she was embarrassed by them. To my surprise, Mr. Beckett did not grow up on a sprawling estate like I’d pictured. Instead, his parents still lived in the small flat he was raised in as a boy. He was proud of his hardworking parents. His mum ironed and did other people’s laundry to put him through private school, and even now she cleaned other people’s houses. They sounded like good people to me.
The final scene of the night was a live nativity, complete with real animals, including a camel. The sounds of delighted children could be heard throughout the theater. Then a hush fell over the crowd as Mary and Joseph held out the baby Jesus. It had me emotional and I was wiping my eyes. I could hear Momma saying, “That right there is all that matters.” She held onto her faith through the bitter end.
As the night went on and we attended mass, I felt both my parents with me. I hoped Noah could, too. As we stood there with our lit candles, singing with the angelic choir, I felt renewed. For a moment, all the stress and worry melted away. I even allowed myself permission to imagine myself with Mr. Beckett. It was a dangerous proposition, but it was like I could hear my heart join in with the choir, giving its resounding approval.
I smiled over at Noah and thought maybe we could both use a little Mr. Beckett in our lives. I really needed to think of something else to call him. Maybe he had a middle name. I would have to ask him.
Noah was exhausted when we returned home, but I was filled with the Christmas spirit, or was it that of an Englishman? I took a protesting Noah by the hand and dragged him to the family room where our tree sparkled in the dim light. “I want you to open a gift before we go to bed.”
“Come on sis, it’s late, and that’s just real.”
“Sit down on the couch. Please.”
He grumbled, but did what I asked, sort of. He didn’t sit, more like sprawled.
I went over to the tree and picked up the surprisingly heavy, wrapped box. I walked it over to the couch and sat down on the floor with it. I smiled at a sleepy Noah. “You’re not going to want to miss this. I promise.”
Toby and Sasha sure didn’t. They both tucked up next to me.
I handed up the gift.
Noah showed a little enthusiasm, meaning he sat up. He lazily tore at the gold striped wrapping paper until he got an inkling of what he was holding.
I loved watching his eyes widen as the contents were revealed.
“Is this a joke? Like you found a box and there are books in here?”
“This is no joke, little brother.”
He grinned down at the gaming console. “How did you get it?”
“Some Christmas magic.”
“Beck?”
I shook my head. “No. Why would he?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Just seems like something he would do. I think he wants to impress you.”
“Be that as it may, this had nothing to do with him.” I wouldn’t have allowed it.
Noah nodded his head and admired his gift. “This is cool. Not even Jackson has this model yet.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Makes what I got you seem lame.”
“I don’t care what it is, the fact you thought of me means more than you know. I love you.”
He mumbled something that sounded like I love you. I would take what I could get.
“Merry Christmas. We better hit the hay.”
“I’m going to set this up.”
“I thought you said you were too tired?”
He smirked.
“Okay. We’ll see you later in the morning. Don’t forget, we’re going to the shelter mid-afternoon tomorrow to serve Christmas dinner.”
“Got it. Goodnight, sis.”
I stood up and kissed the top of his head. “Goodnight.”
I loved on the pooches before making my way upstairs. All felt right in the world.
Chapter Fourteen
Happy Christmas, love.
I rolled over and read the sweet message. The sunlight was barely streaming into my window. I stretched and yawned before I replied. Happy Christmas. Was Father Christmas good to you?
My phone rang. It was my new favorite ringtone.
“Hello.”
“Looks like I got what I asked for, after all.”
I seriously melted into my bed. “This is all you wanted?”
“This will do until I return home.”
Ay! Ay! Ay! “I can’t wait.” Did
I really admit that? Yes, yes, I did.
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I guess you will have to come home to find out.”
“I plan to.”
I kicked off my covers. I felt so warm. “Before I forget, do you have a middle name?”
“I have two.”
“Two?”
“Yes, darling. That is the proper way to do it.”
“Says who?”
“My mum.”
“I won’t argue with her.” Only because I wanted her to like me. “So what are they?”
“Cassius and Rupert.”
“Well . . . hmmm.”
“Don’t you like them?”
“I do, but I don’t know if I can call you by either. You don’t really look like a Cassius or a Rupert.”
“I agree.”
“I guess I’ll have to think of something else.”
“Perhaps Beck?”
“I can’t.”
“What if I call you Edith?”
“You’re too pretty to die, so please don’t.”
He laughed. “We wouldn’t want that, though my mum will be offended.”
“We’ll keep it our secret.”
“Except I already told her about you.”
“You did?”
“Of course, love. She’s noticed all the phone calls.”
“I’m sorry. I’m taking you away from your family time.”
“Are you having a laugh? She’s chuffed.”
I was beginning to understand him more—the whole proper English thing, which reminded me. “Have you spoken to your linguist friend yet?”
“Tomorrow. Prepare for your retraction.”
“I hope you like the taste of crow, because that’s what I’ll be serving up tomorrow when I’m proved right.”
“Don’t be so certain, love.”
“I will never retreat.”
“That’s what I like about you.”
“Is that all?”
“I’ll tell you the rest when I return.”
I felt like I was sitting in front of a Christmas fire. Dang.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes.” My brain went a little fuzzy thinking of his homecoming and all the possibilities. “Sorry, just tired.”
“How was last night?”
Beck and Call (Pianos and Promises #2) Page 7