by Jessa Eden
His mouth fell open, his brown eyes wide with shock. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. You won’t come into the money until you’re thirty and show me you can handle the responsibility of it, though.”
“How do I do that?”
“You come to work for me. You experience my company from the ground up. You’ll come in and start in the mail room.”
“The mail room?”
“Yes. Everybody in a company matters and I want you to know that by working each layer of it.”
He smiled. “Do you get subscriptions to Maxim and Sports Illustrated?”
“Ha-ha. Money isn’t just about having fun. You have to know how to manage it and pay it forward.”
“It’s a lot to process, man. But thank you for your awesome generosity.”
“My pleasure, Charlie. You’re my legacy and I want to provide for you.”
“That’s like providing for a small country.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is.” I took a swig of my beer. “So tell me what do you want to do with your life?”
“That’s a pretty serious question.”
“You’re gonna need a game plan, Charlie. Plus, I’m curious about what you’ve dreamed about doing.”
“I’m only twenty-two. I haven’t gotten it all figured out yet.”
“When I was twenty-two, I thought I’d play hockey forever,” I admitted.
“What was that like?”
He didn’t have to ask me twice. “Oh, man. Insane. Games every other night. The crowd hollering my name. Scoring in a clutch situation, like game seven of a play-off series. Nothing compares to it anymore...” I trailed off, suddenly wishing Marla had been there to experience my hockey career with me.
“Did you ever win the Stanley Cup?”
“In my fourth year, we did. We barely made it into the play-offs by the skin of our teeth. Then we caught fire and became unbeatable. Won it in six games.”
“Sounds amazing. That would have been awesome to see while I was growing up.”
“Yeah, it would. I’m sorry it didn’t happen. It would’ve been great to have you at my games.”
“Yes, it would’ve. But let’s celebrate today. We had a great time surfing and now we have the best burgers on the island in front us. That is worth another round of beers,” Charlie said, asking the waiter for two more drinks.
“Here’s to finding out who my dad is and how cool he turned out to be,” Charlie offered sincerely as he held up his beer.
God, this kid was great.
He didn’t even seem to give a shit about the money.
“Here’s to spending the day with my kid and finding out what a fine young man he’s grown into. Cheers, Charlie.” We clinked our bottles together and drank to our good fortune.
After we downed that round, Charlie insisted we order more. One beer turned into two, then three, and then we added in some tequila shots that really got us buzzing.
Things got a little blurry after that.
Charlie found a straw island hat hanging on the wall, put it on and danced with anyone who was open to it. I watched, amused, along with the rest of the bar patrons.
Spurred on by the alcohol, he took it up another notch as he hopped up on the bar, a drink in one hand, and a desire to strip in the other.
He was a wild child with no shame.
While I got a kick out of it, I knew Marla would kill me if he got hurt or made a fool of himself.
“Charlie, we gotta go, man,” I yelled as I stood next to bar and “I Shot the Sheriff” belted out of the restaurant’s speakers.
“But I was just getting started,” he called, whipping off his shirt and twirling it over his head as the crowd cheered him on.
He was not going to come easily. I needed to do something.
“Party’s over.” I yanked on his leg. As he tumbled forward, I caught him and put his large body over my shoulder as I fought to stay upright.
“Whoo-hoo! That was fun. Let’s do it, again!” he hollered as I put him down in the sand outside the bar.
“Let’s go home. I think you’ve had enough fun for one evening.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Marla:
The last time I saw Beau and Charlie, they were sitting on the beach talking. They sat the same way—backs straight, displaying their broad shoulders as they wrapped their arms around their bent knees.
I did my best to leave them alone.
I didn’t want to encroach on their guy time.
When I checked on them again, they were gone from the beach. I thought maybe they’d come back to the house, but they weren’t around. I figured they went into town. I was glad they were enjoying their time together.
As the night passed, I tried not to worry as I read the latest mystery by Janet Evanovich. The hapless bounty hunter, Stephanie Plum, and her crew were hilarious.
I attempted to get lost in the story, but as the night grew darker, I couldn’t help but grow more concerned. Chalk it up to my mother’s heart.
I tried Charlie’s and Beau’s cell phones, but neither one of them answered. I left messages and hoped they were having a good time. Around midnight, I heard the whine of a car engine, so I went out front.
I was not pleased with what I found.
Beau and Charlie were in the bed of a yellow Toyota truck, pretending to surf as it pulled into the estate.
“Hey, Mom!” Charlie called out drunkenly, as the truck pulled around the circular driveway to the front of the house.
I shook my head as I waited for them to unload. It wasn’t pretty. Father and son could barely walk. They came staggering up the stairs with their arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, as if they had been buddies for years.
What the hell?
Was this really what father-son bonding time looked like?
I didn’t want to be judgmental...but I was feeling very judgy.
I tried to control my shocked reaction as I took in their little drunken show, but it just added fuel to my fire as they moved clumsily through the front door.
“Where have you been?” I asked worriedly as Charlie tripped on the area rug, falling to his knees in a fit of giggles.
“Is he drunk?” I asked, wanting conformation of what was obvious.
“Affirmative, Mama. I am drunk.” He hugged the rug, stroking it lovingly as if it was his long lost blankie.
“Oh, he’s fine,” Beau slurred slightly as Charlie staggered to his feet and stumbled forward, bumping into an expensive end table and sending five artifacts crashing to the floor.
The noise was horrendous as metal and marble collided in a cacophony of destruction.
“Soorrry!” Charlie let out as he sunk to the floor again.
Beau waved his hand dismissively. “It’s all right, Charlie. It’s only about five hundred thousand dollars’ worth of antiques you ruined. I’ll just take it out of your trust.”
“He-he...my trust,” Charlie laughed hilariously. “Here, let me write you a check.” He pretended to write a check out on his hand. “Here. Five hundred thousand dollars.”
Beau examined his hand as if it really contained something real. Both of them burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing ever.
“You told him about the trust?” I asked in outrage.
He shrugged. “Yeah, it kind of slipped out.”
“I thought you were going to find a good time to tell him. Really, while you drinking?”
Beau puckered his lips and blew a raspberry at me. “Don’t worry. I took care of it before we started drinking.”
I gave him a long stare, trying to figure out what to say to him.
I was at a total loss. I had nothing.
Beau’s blurry glance suddenly grew fiery. “He’s okay, Marla. Your boy is safe. That’s all you’re concerned about, right?”
“I was worried about both of you. You disappeared off the beach and then didn’t come back for hours.”
“We went out, had a good time, and now
your boy is home. Relax, mama bear.”
I wasn’t going to be talked into being okay with this. “Your son is twenty-two. He sees you being all cool drinking and he wants to follow in his father’s footsteps. What did you think was going to happen when you took him drinking out on the town?”
Beau ran his hand through his hair. “Well, Jesus, Marla. I don’t know how to do this. I can’t undo what the kid did tonight.”
That attitude was not going to fly with me. “So you’re gonna teach him to chase tail and drink his way through his life?” I asked angrily.
“That is so unfair! This whole situation is your fault! I didn’t have years to get good at this parenting thing like you did!”
“I know you didn’t. But you’re still an adult. One who should know better. You need to decide if you’re going to be his friend or his dad.”
“Why do I have to make a choice?”
“Because that’s how it is.”
“Knock it off, you guys! I’m an adult. Stop treating me like I’m a kid,” Charlie said, staggering to his feet. “I can handle whatever Beau tells me. Stop trying to protect me, Mom.” He glared daggers at me, as if I was the bad guy in all this.
That stung.
I took a deep breath and tried to find neutral ground. “You’re right. We’ll talk about it later. Why don’t you go up to bed and I’ll check on you.”
“All right,” Charlie reluctantly agreed, walking unsteadily toward the stairs leading to his room.
I glanced back at Beau. “We’re not done talking about this. I’ll be back down in a little while.”
He nodded as I left him in the foyer and headed to the kitchen to grab some water. Climbing the stairs to Charlie’s room, I wondered what kind of shape he would be in. When I got there, he was spread out on the bed, humming softly to himself as his swiveled his foot in time to the song.
“Hey, Mom,” he called merrily, lifting his head off the bed.
I took off his shoes. “Get under the covers, Charlie Brown.”
Happily drunk, he crawled under the pastel green sheets. “That was fun! So much fun with Beau,” he giggled as I tucked him in.
I grabbed a seat on the bed next to him. “I’m glad you had a fun time.” I kissed him on the forehead. “Here, drink some water, so it won’t hit you so hard tomorrow.”
He gulped down the whole bottle of water and fell back into bed. “I think I’m going to enjoy my new dad. He’s so cool...” he admitted and then fell asleep mid-sentence.
I stayed on the bed for a few minutes, watching over him as I swiped my hand across his bangs. He was such a lovely boy and deserved the best we could offer him.
This co-parenting business wasn’t going to be easy. Beau was right. It wasn’t fair for me to judge him. I was gonna have to back off and let him find his way with Charlie, even if it killed me.
After I was sure Charlie was asleep, I wandered back down the stairs, wondering if Beau was still around.
“Did you get him safely to bed?” he asked as I entered the living room.
“Yeah, he went out like a light.”
“I don’t know what happened tonight, Marla. It just got away from me,” he said, lounging back on the sectional couch in the dark.
I turned on the light and took a seat next to him.
I was ready to be real. “It’s hard being a parent to a kid at any age, Beau. I can only imagine jumping in when your kid is an adult.”
His blue gaze reflected the pain of that wound. “Yeah. I hate that he grew up without me.”
This just about broke my heart. “I know, Beau. I wish you had been there. I wish you could have taught him to ride a bike or play hockey. I tried to do things I thought you would want for your son.” I took a deep breath and laid it on the line. “We missed you...there’s been a big hole in our lives without you.”
His blue glance went wide. “Really?”
My eyes filled with unshed tears. “Yeah. I never wanted you to leave.”
He sat up, immediately defensive. “Are you joking with me right now? You’ve got to be pulling my leg. You could have called, written, or shown up on my doorstep. But you didn’t. You destroyed me, Marla...destroyed me.”
“I know. I’m so sorry...so sorry,” I whispered through my tears.
“You make me want to believe you.” His voice was tortured.
“Things are not as they seem, Beau. You have to believe me.”
He narrowed his glance at me suspiciously. “Why should I believe you?”
Boldness overtook me as I stared into his tormented gaze. “Because I know you felt my love...the love I still have for you,” I finished quietly.
He shook his head violently back and forth. “No, don’t fuck with me! Don’t fuck with me, Marla!”
“I’m not fucking with you. You’re it for me. After you, no one ever came close. I’ve held my love for a long time. Hopin' and prayin' for a miracle.”
A fierce growl erupted out of him. “Why are telling me this?”
“Because it’s true and I needed to tell you.”
“No, you didn’t!” he said, bolting up and leaving the room.
“Beau!” I yelled as he disappeared down the hall, perhaps lost to me forever.
*****
We flew back the next day, the ride somber and quiet. I was the odd man out; Beau and Charlie sat together comfortably at ease with one another.
Charlie listened to his iPad with his headphones while Beau buried himself in paperwork and phone calls. Occasionally, they talked and joked, but I was too far away to hear.
I had taken a big chance with Beau the night before and it had backfired. He wanted nothing to do with me. While I was crushed, I was proud of myself for taking a risk. He, at least, knew how I felt.
But I might as well be on another planet. I tried not to let my isolation bother me as we flew home. I told myself men process things differently than women, and these two didn’t want to talk about what happened the night before. I needed to respect their boundaries.
But I had no idea a storm was brewing in my own house.
Over the next few days, Charlie grew ice cold toward me. Something was wrong, but I didn’t know what he was brooding about. I suspected there was some residual fallout from the Bahamas trip, but I had no idea he was a ball of rage waiting to go off.
Things were tense and he was barely speaking to me. He would mumble a reply if I asked him a question or he would bristle when I asked him to do something.
It came to an explosive head the Thursday morning after we got back.
“Please put your cereal bowl in the dishwasher,” I said to Charlie as I brought in a few chives from the garden into the kitchen.
His back stiffened as he slammed the bowl in the sink with a loud clatter.
“Whoa. What’s going on?” I asked, putting my cuttings down on the table.
“I don’t want to put my fucking bowl in the fucking dishwasher,” he snapped, turning toward me.
“I can tell your upset. But I’m still your mother and I don’t like being spoken to like that!” I said in a tightly controlled voice, approaching the kitchen island near him.
His brown eyes blazed with anger. “I don’t really care what you want right now. I’m so goddamn mad at you!” He shook his hands as if he wanted to wrap them around my throat.
“Why are you so mad at me?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
“Because you made me grow up without a dad.”
I gasped, the pain tight in my chest. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t risk you being taken away from me.”
“Who would take me away from you?”
“James Shepard, Beau’s father. He threatened to take Emma from me and I knew he would do the same to you. I couldn’t risk it.”
His dark glance was stormy with accusation. “Since when did you live in such fear, Mom? Why didn’t you stand up to Beau’s dad and tell him to fuck off?”
“You don’t understand. He had money and powerful
connections. He could have easily, and legally, taken you from me.”
“That sounds like bullshit.”
“It’s not! He was a real threat to us.”
“You’re a fucking coward, Mom! You took my chance to have a dad away from me.” He grabbed the bowl out of the sink and hurled it against the wall. Milk and Cheerios slid down the light teal paint.
The tears rolled down my face as I tried to stay calm. “Do you know what I would give up to change the past?” I waited for him to answer, but he only glared at me. “I would give up a lot. But I wouldn’t give up you. I will never apologize for protecting you. All I can say is I did the best I could with the information I had at the time.”
“Not good enough, Mom. You could have done something. Beau is a great guy.” Charlie’s brown eyes overflowed with tears. “He should have been there to teach me how to play catch, tie a tie, talk to me about the birds and bees stuff, you know? All that boy shit you had to show me.”
“I know,” I said quietly as I reached out, trying to comfort him in his raw pain.
“Don’t touch me!” he yelled, moving out of my reach. “You can’t fix this, Mom! You just can’t.” He strode out of the kitchen and slammed the front door.
I stood paralyzed, shaking with emotion as I heard his Honda roar to life and peel out.
I slumped to the floor against the kitchen island, sobs coming from somewhere deep inside. I was so tired of being punished by the lies and secrets of my past.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Beau:
Things went way south with Marla in the Bahamas. She had laid it on thick and threatened the delicate balance I had achieved in this whole mess. She couldn’t possibly mean what she said about holding her love for me.
What would make her say that?
It was just another ploy, right?
I was having a much harder time believing she was heartless these days.
I sat out on the deck of my room long into that last night in the Bahamas, contemplating everything that had happened. I didn’t have any answers, just more blurry lines between the past and present.
We flew back the next day. I kept my distance from Marla, but Charlie was another matter. I was really enjoying our new bond. He reminded me of myself at that age, without all the bitterness.