Chapter Twelve
"This is going to come off as random, but we need to think and agree on the best solutions for Sienna if something happened to the both of us," Hunter said to Eva. He kept thinking about Henry's family and their uncertain fate. The last thing he wanted was for something to ever happen to him and Eva, and Sienna's wellbeing hanging in the balance. He planned to be around a long time for his daughter, but life had its own mind many times. He'd learned that all too well.
Eva's curious and startled gaze landed on him. "Where the hell did that come from?" Her tone came out sharp. She should know too, considering how quick and horrible her brother's death had been.
Sienna was still in the kitchen helping Beverly, so he had time to explain. "Becca witnessed an accident Friday night. The family was on the way to the doctor because the wife had a checkup." He finished telling her the rest about the father not making it, Henry's mother in serious condition, and the baby. By the time he finished, Eva's eyes were the size of dinner plates.
"I hate thinking about this stuff!" she exclaimed with a shudder.
"I know, but we have to cover all the bases. With everything that's happened recently, it's put a lot in perspective," Hunter said softly, understanding her feelings. "With us being split up, it's best to make sure we both decide together on what we'd want for Sienna."
"Okay. I guess when we have free time without everyone else around, we'll work on that." Eva closed her eyes and made a sour face.
"Becca's here!" Todd announced as he opened the front door.
Hunter stood and reacted quick at the sight of Becca's expression. Something was wrong. He rushed over and reached for her hands, eager to hold her and find out what happened. Henry's mom? The baby? "What's wrong?"
Pursing her lips, Becca held out her phone to him.
As he read the message, Hunter swore under his breath. He checked the timestamp of the text. An hour ago.
"I-I went to see the baby when I got this," she practically whispered.
"You got that message as you were visiting the baby?" Hunter tried not to raise his voice. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and stood up. Someone was watching them and tracking their moves. It only made sense. He'd hoped maybe the first text would be the one and only. Apparently some sick, hidden person had other ideas. Really? Why hide behind texts? What the hell was their point? "Were you with anyone at the time?"
"Celia. She went inside to stand by the baby's bed. Other than that, no one I know."
Hunter raked a hand through his hair. Damn, damn, damn!
"Is everything okay?" Eva asked.
Both Becca and Hunter turned toward her. "Yeah, it's all good," he lied. He wasn't about to get into this around them right now. "Becca's just upset from the visit." He exchanged a glance with her.
"Eva! Your daughter is looking for you!" Beverly called from the kitchen.
Once everyone else was out of the room, Hunter faced Becca again. "What else happened?"
"Besides that creepy text? Henry's mom swears she's going to die. She hasn't been able to see the baby, and Henry's uncle asked me if I could come sit with her when they bury her husband. Oh, and the images in my head when I thought about the lonely baby. I feel sick." She looked it, too.
He pulled her in his arms gently, surrounding her with all his love. "I'm sorry, angel. Maybe I should have stayed."
"I kept thinking about me as a baby. Then I kept thinking about the real Becca."
Every time she said 'the real Becca', it hurt. To have her identity questioned and not knowing answers had to be hard. Hunter's family might have had a hand in this, but at least he knew who he was. He was still Savannah and Charles' son, but Becca had no clue where she came from and how she got to be in the situation she was in. He sure as hell couldn't imagine her feelings about taking another child's place, no matter the situation.
"Lunch is ready when you two are," Beverly said softly from the doorway.
Hunter and Becca pulled apart. He kept her close to him as they moved in silence to join everyone in the dining room.
*****
Becca wasn't sure what the morning would bring when she went to sit with Cherie on Tuesday. She'd asked Liane yesterday and as she thought, her boss was fine with it. She'd also run into Brock. He had already heard about why Becca never showed, and they rescheduled for a time next week after the Thanksgiving holiday weekend was over.
Celia stopped her before Becca went inside Cherie's room. "She's a wreck today. Just thought I'd warn you." The woman had been working hard. Becca could tell by the dark circles under her eyes. Celia tried to cover them up with makeup, but it wasn't doing the job well. What a job. Becca had to give the woman silent kudos for taking on such a role.
"And Henry? How is he?" Becca wished she'd come a little earlier to see them off. To have to say goodbye to his father when they'd all been so young was one of the most painful experiences ever. Becca hadn't even been conscious when they retrieved Anne, Rusty, and Ellie's bodies. She never had a chance to say goodbye in any way. Not that she remembered for sure, but she didn't think Hunter had the chance either, which was why they went to the island every year. They didn't get that closure.
Celia shook her head sadly. "That poor kid. He's so upset. He keeps talking about how his dad was mad at him and he needs to apologize. Can you imagine?"
No, that one she couldn't. Becca made a silent vow to never go to bed mad at anyone she loved. Not only that, but never leave the house mad. You never know when something might happen.
"To make matters worse, I overheard his uncle talk to his wife this morning. She wants him to return home, which means he would have to take Henry. He just wants to be near his mom."
"What a mess," Becca said softly. If only they could do more. She could talk to Hunter and offer to take Henry in for a while so he could stay until his mother got better, but it wasn't a good idea. Not with their drama with these new text messages. They weren't safe, and dragging an already traumatized little boy in their world would only make matters worse for him.
"Yeah. It makes me think. I haven't talked to my brother in eight years. He's been in jail, been on drugs, and is in and out of rehab. I'm going to be visiting him soon. I need to at least speak my piece, so that I can say I tried, you know?"
Becca nodded, the wheels cranking in her mind. She needed to do the same, starting with her grand- the Langes. Then Vince. Then she'd have to work through the guilt over killing a man, because no matter how she tried to push it out of her head, it was there, and she didn't want it coming back to haunt her years later. She'd been going about things the wrong way. Hunter tried to warn her. She should have listened, considering how things happened with him. She thought she could handle it as she always had- or thought she had.
"Anyway, just hit the nurses button if you need anything. I'm really worried about Cherie- her physical and mental state."
Chills ran down Becca's spine as the unmentioned words went through her head, the same ones spoken about her twenty years ago. Celia didn't have to say it, but she didn't think Cherie was going to make it.
As Celia walked away, Becca rapped softly on the door before entering. Cherie's face was red, stained with tears as she clutched something green in her hands. "I never got to say goodbye!" she wailed, "and now my best friend is being buried without me. So many memories, so many things we were still supposed to do, and that one person driving recklessly changed my entire life!" She hiccuped.
"Tell me about him. Tell me how you met and how long you dated. Share some good memories with me." Becca scooted the chair near her bed, hoping this would be of good comfort. "I've found that sharing good memories helps. Hunter and I have to do that. We remember the good through all the hurt and heartache."
"Kyle and I met when we were nineteen. We married a year later." Cherie leaned back in bed, wincing as she did so. She ran a hand through her hair, then turned her gaze to Becca. "He was throwing a football around with friends, and I happened
to run by. So cliché, but that's our story. Within our first year of marriage, I had Henry. We married during a blizzard. The weather people predicted a dusting of snow." Cherie laughed through her tears. "We totally missed our honeymoon, because the airport was shut down. We spent the night in the church, snowed in with all of our guests. We stayed up through the night playing games to occupy ourselves. It was the strangest, but most fun slumber party I've ever had." Cherie laughed, then she cried. "What am I going to do without him?"
"Live your life to the fullest. He'd want that for you, Henry, and your daughter," Becca said softly. She'd wish that for Hunter, and she imagined he'd want that for her, too.
"I don't know if I can do this alone," Cherie sobbed again.
Becca reacted quickly, covering the woman's limp hand with her own. "You aren't alone. You have your kids. What about friends? Family? You'll never be alone. I know there's a hole in your heart, and while it may never fully be healed, you aren't alone."
"I'm scared. I'm s-so scared! I don't know if I can do this!" Cherie spasmed. "Ow! Oooh! Becca, call the doctor. Something is seriously wrong!"
In a panic, Becca did as asked. Cherie clutched her hands to her stomach as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face.
"Cherie? Cherie? What is it?" Becca asked once she'd called. "Somebody get in here! Something is wrong with her!" Becca screamed when Cherie started vomiting blood.
*****
"There were further complications than anyone realized," Celia said to Becca an hour later. She was completely shaken, and she still had to get to work somehow and focus.
"What happens to Henry and the baby?" Becca set her coffee cup on the table. With such shaky hands, the brown liquid sloshed over the edge, dripping down the cup until it hit the table.
"There's the uncle," Celia pointed out.
"What happens if he doesn't want to take the kids?" He could easily refuse, couldn't he? Becca didn't think he would, but who knows?
Celia jerked back at the question. "I'd hate to think about that. I hope the doctors can pinpoint what's wrong and it doesn't have to come down to this."
Becca needed out of this sad environment before her heart shattered completely.
Chapter Thirteen
Hunter looked forward to his first Thanksgiving with Becca. Maybe for one day, they'd have peace and a sense of the kind of life they both longed for. He understood her need to go into their marriage without so much secrecy and unknown, and longed for the same thing.
Tomorrow, the house would be filled with people they loved. People who'd become family to them. Joe and his wife were due in this evening. Rissi, her husband, and Jade were also flying in and were due to arrive in a few hours. Sienna and the Sundstroms were coming to the house tomorrow.
Neither had work today. Most of the morning, Hunter watched Becca in silence. Ever since yesterday and the scare with Henry's mom, she'd been quiet. Jed had no new updates, and so far Hunter hadn't seen Jesse again, because there was no meeting yesterday. They'd taken a week break for the holidays.
While Becca slept this morning, Hunter woke up early and had walked around the house, making sure things were in order. He'd stopped in the art room and found another different, dark painting from Becca. This one wasn't hidden like the last one, but he knew she didn't want anyone to see it. Granted, the painting was amazing, but the darkness it portrayed actually gave Hunter goosebumps.
He now knew the location of Brock's gallery. Maybe he'd take Becca there to check it out. It would be nice to take her mind off things. Give her a positive, instead of all the negatives that came their way lately. He snapped his fingers and broke out in a smile at the idea. Then they'd go pick up Rissi and family.
"Stop what you're doing, grab your purse, and let's go." He tugged on Becca's hand, drawing her near. He'd startled her, which made him chuckle.
"You're being mysterious and spontaneous again, aren't you?" Becca's eyes were full of curiosity and love. "I love that mind of yours."
"Sure am. Come on. You'll love it." He didn't give her a chance to decline. Hunter pulled her away from the already clean kitchen and headed towards the front door, snatching Becca's purse off the coffee table along the way.
"This is what I get for not questioning your quiet mood," she joked as they buckled up in the car.
"Ha ha. Very funny." Hunter feigned hurt. "You've been pretty quiet, yourself." He slid it in as a joke, but wondered if it would provoke a good response from her.
"I know I'm quiet. Sorry." Becca looked away.
Before backing out of the drive, Hunter reached for her hand, curling his fingers through hers. "Nothing to be sorry for. I worry about you, but you don't always have to be talkative."
"I wish we could take Henry and the baby in. I mean, if ... if something happens to Cherie," she said out of nowhere. "I keep thinking about her, barely hanging in there. I think about the baby, and the uncle who seems so out of sorts. But then, we can't take anyone in, because we're surrounded by so many secrets. And here I go, totally ruining your spontaneous streak by bringing all this up again when you already know."
"We'll talk about whatever you want, however you want, whenever. I know it's on your mind. It's on mine, too. I see such similarities in the situations. A boy who had to grow up too soon, protecting a little girl who needed it. I see a lot of that in Henry and his sister. It comes at a time when we're still trying to understand our history. I get it, Bec." This was why he wanted to do something good for her today, to help ease the ache in their hearts.
"You know, when you were going through your feelings about PTSD a few months ago and longed to have just a bit of normal ... I understood your need back then, but I really get where you're coming from now. I thought I had a handle on things, that I could just force myself to forge ahead. I can't. I can't let go of what I don't know, and I'm struggling with the fact that I killed someone, even in self-defense. It took a family's tragic day for me to realize I'm not as okay as I'd like to be." Becca spoke softly.
He already knew all of this, but Hunter felt better when Becca admitted it. "I know. I'm glad you're realizing it and that it didn't take you years to fully discover and accept the fact."
"Maybe I should talk to Shara. It's eating at me, and it shows in my artwork." Her voice was just above a whisper, as if she didn't want to say it out loud even though they were the only two in the car. Hunter half expected her to cover her mouth in a gesture of wanting to take the words back.
"I think it's a good idea." Hunter headed down the road, liking the fact that they were getting somewhere. Becca let down her guarded wall and exposed her true feelings. She finally learned she didn't have to hide how she felt. Good. In the few months she'd been living with him, Becca started to come out of her shell again. "I admit, I saw another one of your paintings." He waited for her reaction.
"You ... did?" she squeaked.
"I did. I wasn't snooping, though. I just happened to be checking rooms for anything we might have missed before everyone showed up. Bec, as usual, your talent awes me, but these new ones are darker. You're definitely one to put your mood reflections on canvas. It's different, but it doesn't mean they're bad. You should do that more often."
She laughed with a little bit of a bitter edge. "Right, because killing a man and being followed by some stalker makes for a good painting."
"I didn't mean it like that," he protested. Okay, so she was sensitive over the subject. Very sensitive. Maybe he should tell her now where he was taking her.
Becca sighed. "I know. I guess my paintings are like my diary without the words, and to expose the dark feelings I'm having is not easy, even with you."
"I wish that wasn't the case, but look what I did. Somehow, we both have to get out of this cycle. We know we can tell each other anything, but we're still trying to shield each other from our darkest thoughts." Hunter turned on the main road, heading toward the gallery. "I wasn't going to tell you where we're going, but I changed my mind. I
wanted to take you to Brock's gallery. I was hoping to give you something to look forward to." He flicked his gaze to her for a second, eager to see her reaction.
Becca smiled. "I'd like that. I'm curious what he'd say."
There we go. Goal achieved. Becca's smile. A sight he loved to see. "So am I. I'm waiting for the day I can take everyone to see your work proudly displayed in a gallery. When your first piece sells, we're celebrating big time." He grinned. Oh, the plans he could make!
Becca's hand landed on his knee. Her touch sent tingling sensations all up his leg. Right about now, he wished he wasn't driving so he could hold her close. "Hey, we're both working to get our lives back and stronger than ever, right?"
Where was this going? "Right..." he said slowly.
"We never got back to this after all the news lately, but have you thought about flying?"
Yes. And no. And more yes. Then even more no. Hell, he'd thought about it a lot. Was he ready? What happened if it took him through another episode, although he'd been doing well? This battle wasn't over by a far cry, but Hunter had been making good progress, and he knew it. Was it enough to get back behind the pilot's side of a plane? "I know I should at least give it a shot," he admitted quietly.
"Maybe we both should write a fear list. Then, as we conquer them, the other should work through theirs, like my fear of getting in an art studio- trusting another artist with my works."
Hunter thought about it. "You bring up a good point. Maybe put your biggest fears at the top of the list."
"There we go." Becca's tone changed from quiet and sad to excited. "We'll try to do some before our wedding, and some after."
"Deal." Hunter shook off his nervousness. If Becca could overcome fears, so could he. No matter what.
*****
Becca walked inside the art gallery, took one look, and wondered why in the world Brock wanted her to be here. Just from a simple glimpse at the paintings and photographs on the wall, she wondered how she'd fit in here. Hunter must have sensed her second guessing, because he gently moved to hold her hand, easing her closer to him. He leaned over and pointed. "I see an empty spot right there. That wall screams 'Rebecca Lange'."
A Forever Masterpiece (The Masterpiece Trilogy Book 3) Page 12