Because Beards
Page 49
A bead of sweat slowly drips down the small of my back, following the trail of the one before.
That’s how you know it’s hot.
I don’t sweat, but it’s the middle of August in Arizona, so even I’m not immune to the heat. Standing on the black asphalt of this parking lot is like standing on the surface of the sun. I unconsciously shuffle my feet to keep my cheap flip flops from sticking to the ground.
I don’t even know what I’m staring at. Wafts of steam rise from under the popped up hood of the old beat-up car that I’ve had since high school. I’m not a mechanic, so who knows what’s actually causing it not to start. Truthfully, even if I did know, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not as if I’d know how to fix it, and I definitely don’t have the money to take it to a shop. Actually, I don’t even have the money to have it towed to a shop. I feel awful, but I’ll have to call my Dad tomorrow to have him come take a look at it. Our relationship is mostly non-existent, but he knows his way around a car, so he’s my only hope.
Staring at the hoses and wires for a few more seconds, I pray that the answer to all my problems will magically appear, and the engine will roar to life if I stand here in the searing heat and glare. Maybe it’s shear desperation that keeps me held in place, or the fact that I don’t want to walk back to my apartment and have to ask my downstairs neighbor, Ms. Honey, to borrow her car.
She’d lend it to me, but there’s not much I hate more than needing someone’s help. If this wasn’t an emergency, I’d never consider it. But, unfortunately, it is.
I trudge up the sidewalk, defeated and beaten down. I’m one of the most positive people you’ll ever meet, but I’ve had a string of bad luck lately that is unreal. At some point, I’m only human, and I’ve got to admit that this just plain sucks.
No matter how I feel though, I plaster a smile on my face for the one person who needs me to be strong. My son, Finn. He’s my whole world. He’s every happy moment I could have ever asked for wrapped in one small, energetic little man. And, as I come in to view of Ms. Honey’s apartment, I find him staring out her window watching for me. His small cheek is pressed against the glass, smushing his face. My smile transforms from being tight and fake, to real and warm. The sight of him puts everything in to perspective. We’ll be all right, as long as we have each other.
He waves, his little hand moving so fast it’s a blur. I blow him a kiss before I realize that in my haste to get back to him, I forgot my purse on the front seat of the car. The last thing I need right now is to have that stolen, too.
I put up my finger to him to let him know I will be back in one minute and he nods his head in understanding. His dark brown locks bob with the movement. Winking in his direction, I head back in a hurry to the parking lot.
Finn has a plane to catch that leaves in three hours, and we should have been on the road ten minutes ago. I’m a nervous wreck about him leaving—and flying without me—but my sister lives in California and spent the entire year begging for him to come and stay with her for two weeks. She’s an amazing aunt, and I know he’ll be safe, and loved. Not to mention, he’ll have the time of his life. My sister graciously offered to fly here, only to turn around and fly right back to California with him. She knew there was no way I could afford to take off work to go with him, though I desperately wish I could. We always need the money, and my vacation days are like gold, typically only used when Finn is sick.
I finally relented and told my sister he could go, and besides being a basket case this entire last week over his leaving, now I’m afraid he may just miss his flight if I don’t pull myself together and solve our latest problem.
A small throng of college boys pass me on the sidewalk, backpacks strewn over their shoulders. College students flock to this complex because we are only a few blocks from the school. The men stare as I pass, definitely interested, but I don’t meet their eyes. Purposefully, I twist my head away, and shield myself from their glare with my long, blonde locks. I know I’m not bad looking. That’s not one of my problems. I’m always able to attract men just fine—it’s attracting good men that I seem to have a problem with.
I break into a slow jog the last few feet to my car, grateful that Ms. Honey lives in the apartment below ours. There is no way Finn could have stood out in this heat while I tried to figure out what’s wrong with our car. She’s been our neighbor for the last four years, since Finn was only a year old. I know I can trust her, and that she loves him. Even so, I don’t want to take advantage of her kindness.
I don’t like to accept help from people, no matter how big or how small. It’s a problem of mine. Maybe a flaw? But after having Finn when I was only twenty years old, it felt as if everyone doubted my ability to raise a child on my own when I was barely more than one myself—and I have always wanted to prove them wrong. Make them eat their words. I think somewhere deep down it feels as though accepting help means I’m failing.
Finally within view of my car, I breathe a sigh of relief that my purse is still on the front seat. If the ground wasn’t thermo-nuclear hot right now, I would get down on my hands and knees and thank God it’s where I left it. Instead, I raise my face to the sky and murmur a quiet “thank you,” before opening the door to lean down and retrieve it. I nearly burn my hand on the door handle, and then again on the seatbelt in my small endeavor. One day I’ll get a new car, one with a warranty and roadside assistance, and these stupid problems will be a thing of the past. At least I have a car. Well, it doesn’t work, but I have one. That counts for something, I’m pretty sure.
“Hannah!” A deep husky voice, coming from a few rows behind me, commandeers my thoughts.
I jump so much that I nail my head on the door frame of the car. Dropping my purse, I rush both hands up to the spot that throbs on the back of my head. I’m pretty sure I’m in danger of passing out from the pain. With my eyes squeezed shut, I release one of my hands and robotically reach for where I can feel the purse strap on my foot, grabbing it before it melts to the pavement. I’m not in a hurry to open my eyes because I’d recognize the timbre of that voice anywhere, and it sounds much angrier than when he normally speaks to me. Much angrier.
Frustrated, I ease them open and focus through the pain on the six and a half foot wall of muscle that is sauntering toward me. Rhett Prince. He’s got his practice uniform on, covered in dirt. I’d love to peruse him from his head straight down to his toes, because I could get lost in him, and forget all of my troubles, but I don’t. His deep brown eyes lock on mine, and the questioning in them sends my body throwing up caution flags in my brain. I’m about to get in trouble, and not the kind of trouble I enjoy.
His chiseled jawline is tense with worry and anger. I’ve been victim to that same expression on his face since we were kids, so you’d think by now I’d be immune to it, but I’m not. It affects me each and every time he directs it my way.
Rhett and I grew up next door to each other, both born and raised in those homes. Best friends from the beginning. Nothing could come between us when we were younger. That is, until high school, when the hormones started raging. And then a lot came between us. Namely every girl in our school and all of the surrounding areas. It’s not like we were dating. We never dated. Don’t get me wrong, he showed interest, but I was scared. I couldn’t lose him. He meant everything to me. And getting in to a relationship would only make the possibility of something going wrong between us very, very real. And then where would I be?
I never had much of a connection to my parents, or any of my family other than my sister. She’s older than I am, and after she moved out to start her life, there were many times where it felt as though I was living with strangers. Rhett was my salvation. I needed him to be in my life. He was much too important a part of it to mess up over a stupid attraction. Something I knew even when I was young.
But there was plenty to be attracted to. Models in magazines had nothing on him. There wasn’t a single part of Rhett that wasn’t perfect. It’d always been that w
ay. He was the object of every girl’s affections since forever. And as the years passed, and he went from cute boy, to gorgeous teenager, to this beautiful man prowling my way, I could do nothing but watch as every other girl got parts of him that I would never have.
Rhett flirted with me in the beginning. When we finally got old enough to realize that he was a boy and I was a girl, and that meant something. But the terror I felt over replacing the relationship we had with one that would be more physical, and able to fall apart, kept me from acting on it. Until eventually he gave in, and stopped pushing the subject. He never asked me why. He never pressed me to respond to any of his advances, he just seemed to understand that this is how I wanted things.
Regardless, through all of my ups and downs, he’s always been there for me. Through the high school years when his popularity far outshone my own. Through his college years, when he was the star player on his baseball team being scouted by the major leagues, and I was simply the old friend juggling a job and some online classes—definitely not living the college dream the way he was. And most importantly, through a pregnancy with a man that I came to realize much too late that I couldn’t count on. I’d turn around and there he’d be, in some quiet way, but there nonetheless. No questions, no judgements, just love and support. No matter what, Rhett’s stood by me.
Right now though, it looks as though he’d like to throttle me. Not a usual look, nor one I am accustomed to.
Rhett stops directly in front of me, and stands wordless, staring. The silence is worse than anything he could actually say, because I think I see disappointment. He reaches up to run his hands through the scruff of his beard. I wasn’t sure at first how I felt about the added facial hair. He started growing it out right about the time I had Finn. It was a time when I was looking for familiarity, so any small change to my world freaked me out. He was such a big part of my world that this change to his appearance made me unsure. Crazy, I know, but true. Now I can’t imagine him without it. I have to admit it’s incredibly sexy. Just a little longer than a five o’clock shadow, and framing his jawline in a way that makes him appear haunting, serious, and all man. No trace of that little boy that I knew once upon a time.
“Hey, Rhett—” The words barely leave my lips before he starts in on me.
“Hannah! Seriously! I have to hear from Ms. Honey that you’re in trouble? I told you five years ago when you had Finn that you needed a reliable car. I offered to buy you one a million times! Why do you have to be so stubborn?” His eyes flash to a darker shade the more upset he gets. I’m reminded of burning coal when he stares from the heavens back to me. He motions toward my old coupe with disgust on his normally composed face. Whether the look is directed toward my car, or me, I’m not sure. Probably both.
His jaw ticks and his chest moves in one long exhale, a tell-tale sign that he’s chewing over things he’d like to say before he settles on, “I can afford to buy you a car, Hannah. This is crazy!” Rhett’s deep voice rises at the end of his rant, his hands thrown in the air.
“Yeah, I know you can.” My hand instinctually flings to my hip, to match his stance, upset not only with him giving me grief, but because of my pounding head, my broken car, and the fact that I’m about to leave my baby at the airport. Don’t even get me started on the blazing heat now beating down on me, making it hard to think and react to everything he’s spouting at me. I’m a good foot shorter than him, so it’s hard to look intimidating, but I’m doing my best to win this staredown.
He could afford a car and so much more. Rookie of the Year straight out of college, with a huge contract for the Diamondbacks. Our very own hometown hero. Money is not one of his worries. But that’s not the point. That’s his money not mine, and I don’t need anyone’s help.
“Why didn’t you just call?” His irritation winds down to an acceptable level, finally.
“Because I’ll figure it out, Rhett. The way I do everything else. I’ll either call a cab or ask to borrow Ms. Honey’s car. No big deal.” I try to convince him, but he knows asking her for help is a very big deal to me, and he sees right through my calm façade.
“Well, lucky for you, you won’t need to do that now, because I’m here. Just load him into my truck and take him to the airport. I’ll wait at your apartment until you get back.”
“Rhett, you really don’t need to do that. I can just ask her. Go about your day. We’re fine, really.”
“Are you serious?” His face falls at the same time his temper heats back up. Rhett’s forehead creases as his eyes scorch me. He’s taking complete offense to my attitude. His muscular chest heaves a sigh so huge I’m surprised it doesn’t blow down the mesquite tree we are standing next to. “Yeah, I can tell you are.” Shadows cast disappointment across his face, as he studies mine. “How long will it take before you realize I’m here for you? That I want to be here for you both?”
I stand stock still. Afraid to move, afraid to answer. Because I don’t know what the answer is. I know he’s here for me, always has been. And that fact, makes me feel things that I just can’t feel when it comes to him. Rhett is my safe haven, my proverbial light in the storm. But our chance for something more came and went a long time ago, and I passed it up because I was afraid of losing him.
And while I hate it when he has to drop whatever he’s doing to come and rescue me, my biggest fear is the day that he no longer does.
But one day it will happen. One day, Rhett will meet someone he can get serious with, instead of all of these girls who pass through. She’ll be put together, successful, and perfect in every way, no doubt. And that’s what he deserves—nothing less. Definitely not a girl like me who had to stop my college education in order to raise my son, and who is slowly creeping toward my degree one class at a time. Someone who has to work her fingers to the bone to get by. No, he deserves someone who can focus her energy on showing him nothing but the love he deserves. In time, he’ll move on with her and forget about me. I want for him to be happy, but the thought of my world without him is so bleak that I don’t like to think about it.
While my brain scrutinizes all of the possibilities of what his life will eventually be, he moves on answering his own question, his handsome face sullen. “You know what, just forget it.” His expression is dreary. I’m so lost in my own world of hurt over my imaginary someday that I don’t stop to consider the reason he looks that way. “Look, you’ll be doing me a favor.” His voice turns smooth and comforting while he tries to convince to me accept his help. “I need to get cleaned up, and your apartment is closer than my house. Just take my keys and get Finn to the airport. I’ll grab a shower while you’re gone.”
“Okay,” the word whooshes reluctantly from my mouth. My voice, now weak from my defeat, quietly utters, “Whatever you say, Mr. Prince.” Hesitantly, I reach for his palm. My fingers slide over his skin as I timidly grab the keys. Every time I touch him it feels intimate, and the small brush of my skin against his own right now is no different. I’m not the only one who feels the fire each time we make contact. I can see it in his eyes, where they are stuck on his palm, and the area that my fingers just vacated. Much less slowly, I thrust my keychain out to him. When his obsidian eyes meet my own, he gives me a tense perusal that leaves me with goosebumps.
Rhett’s muscled body leans my direction, and it takes everything in me not to meet him halfway, but I stand still. He nuzzles the hair away from my temple, and leaves a kiss there in its wake. Breathing me in, he apologizes, his breath caressing my ear. “I’m sorry I raised my voice.” I want to wrap myself in his words, and then in his arms, like always, but I don’t give in to need.
Tears, unwanted, form at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back. I hate to get all weepy, but he’s caught me on an off day. Needing to say goodbye to Finn later has left my normally steadfast nerves in a fray, and Rhett being Rhett has left my emotions in a tailspin.
He notices the tears anyways, and looks me long and hard in the eyes. I want nothing more t
han for him to look away, but he doesn’t, so I break contact first. “You okay?” Concern instantly clouds his voice, as he smoothes his tan palm over my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear. When I don’t look at him, he takes one strong finger and gently directs my chin his way.
“I’m good.” The promise leaves my lips with more conviction than I feel. “I just want this day to be over with. Once Finn gets to California and is having fun, I’ll feel much better.”
Another prominent sigh escapes Rhett’s full lips causing me to stare at them, my focus absolute. How I’ve dreamed about them over the years. I know first hand how soft they can be. I also know how strong they can be.
Once, years ago, when we were barely out of high school, we both gave in to the tension that flows between us, erupting in a kiss that if I lived a thousand years, I would never be able to forget. I didn’t stop him. I didn’t want to.
If my parents hadn’t returned home, who knows where that kiss might have led? In that moment, I was giving in to the pull Rhett always had over me, and I would have followed him anywhere.
Not many days pass that I don’t think about that day that feels like a lifetime ago. One that, for better or for worse, could have been a turning point for us. Instead of winding up together on that fateful afternoon, we pulled away from each other, breathing hard, neither of us wanting it to come to an end.
Each and every time Rhett tried to bring it up in the weeks that followed, I changed the subject. After he left that afternoon, I had time to realize that the possibility of what could go wrong with a relationship between us, far outweighed what I felt could go right if we followed that path. Eventually, Rhett resigned himself with the fact that I didn’t want to talk about it, and it was never brought up again.
Back in my present day mess, my preoccupation with his lips and the memory is absolute, until he shifts, pulling me from my daze, and my eyes spring up to his own waiting pair. I’m sure Rhett notices that I was looking at his mouth as though it was my next meal, but he doesn’t say a word. Instead, his powerful forearms brush my shoulders as he reaches to grasp the sides of my face, leaning in to press his lips to the top of my head. “Come on, let’s get you out of this heat and up to get Finn. I’ll help you get him in the truck.”