by Lucy Score
“Oh! I’m so sorry, Phoebe. I wasn’t thinking.” Gia wished the cream colored carpet would swallow her up and put her out of her misery.
Phoebe gave her a warm smile as she rose from the couch. She was wearing cotton pajama pants and a tunic length sweater. A bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table.
“Don’t be silly.” Phoebe patted her hand. “I’m going to go make us some tea.” She laid a gentle hand on Franklin’s shoulder as she made her way back to the kitchen.
The gesture wasn’t lost on her, even in her current state of rage-induced hysteria.
“You two really love each other, don’t you, Daddy?”
Franklin gestured toward the couch and Gia flopped down, hugging a corduroy pillow to her chest. He sat down next to her, a smile breaking through the worry on his face when she nudged him with her foot. “Don’t you?” she said again.
He nodded. “I never expected to find this at my age,” he sighed.
“At your age?” Gia rolled her eyes. “You make it sound like you’re a million years old.”
Broad-shouldered with his kind, crinkle-eyed smile, he’d always been handsome. In high school, all the friends who’d crossed their threshold did so carrying a torch for Franklin Merrill. Even when his hair had gone from dark to silver, it only made him more distinguished.
“I’m a lucky man,” he sighed with contentment.
“Phoebe’s a pretty lucky lady,” Gia said, nudging him again with her toes. “I hope I’m that lucky some day.”
“Your luck seems to have been improving,” Franklin said, patting her knee. “Beckett is about as far from Paul as you can get. He clearly cares about you and the kids.”
“And yet he just broke up with me.”
Her father frowned. “Has he suffered a recent head injury?”
Gia laughed in spite of herself. She shook her head. “No, but he may end up with one if I have anything to say about it.”
“Uh-oh,” Phoebe said, carrying a tray laden with steaming mugs, slices of lemon, and a box of tissues. “Beckett?”
“I don’t want to speak ill of the soon-to-be-dead in front of his mother.”
“Sweetie, you can’t say anything that I haven’t already thought about all of my boys. I love them to pieces but every single one of them can be an idiot.”
“Do they ever snap out of it?” Gia helped herself to a tissue and blew her nose.
“Eventually.” Phoebe sank down in the armchair across from them. “How big of an idiot was he?”
Gia relayed the gist of the fight.
“He wouldn’t even let me explain what Paul was doing here in the first place, though being my attorney he should have figured it out.” Gia took a sip of her tea and her eyes widened.
“I hope you don’t mind a little whiskey in your tea,” Phoebe smiled. “It seemed appropriate.”
“Bless you,” Gia sighed and took another sip.
“What is Paul doing here?” Franklin asked.
“He starts a new gig in the city next week and swung through to sign the guardianship papers for Evan. I thought he could spend some time with the kids, you know, present a united front to Evan when we explain what the paperwork means. I don’t want him thinking his father just abandoned him.”
“Did you give Beckett a heads up that Paul was coming?”
Gia shook her head. “That would have required Paul telling me he was coming and not just showing up fifteen minutes before Beckett knocked on the door. I’d left Paul a voicemail yesterday asking if he’d be up for a visit soon.”
Phoebe closed her eyes and shook her head, her stubby ponytail twitching. “And Beckett decided that Paul was here because he wants a second chance.”
“And he feels very strongly that I should give him one.” That stung as much as anything. Not only had Beckett accused her of selfishly splitting up her family, but he walked away from her without a look back. Just like Paul.
“Dad, did I give up too quickly with Paul?” She shoved the words out before she could bury them again. “Would the kids be better off if I had stayed?”
Her father took her hand, squeezed it reassuringly. “I know you kept quiet about many of the details about why you and Paul ended things, but your sisters have big mouths. What does your gut tell you? Do you think you should have stayed?”
Gia closed her eyes, went back to that night again in her mind. She was already shaking her head. “No. If anything I should have done it sooner.” She opened her eyes, blew her nose again. “So what do I do? Evan and Aurora love Beckett. But he just walked away. He didn’t even try.”
Phoebe picked up her mug and Gia could have sworn she heard her mutter “asshole.”
Franklin squeezed her hand again. “It sounds to me like he’s hurting. The Beckett Pierce that I know is a rational, loyal, kind man. Usually the only thing that can turn men like that into raving lunatics is love. You must really matter to him to have him act like such an idiot.”
Gia gave her father half a smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
“He’s a good man, honey. Give him a little time to realize how stupid he was and I promise everything will work out.”
She heaved a mighty sigh. “Thanks for letting me barge into your quiet evening like this. Both of you,” she said.
“I’m glad that we’re close enough for barging in. I’ve missed you and your sisters. Missed being needed.”
Gia crawled over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’ll never not be needed, Daddy.”
Franklin and Phoebe waved a stronger, steadier Gia off from the porch. Phoebe was already dialing her phone as Gia eased away from the curb.
“Now, who are you calling at this hour?” Franklin asked, sliding an arm around her waist.
“I’m calling in the reserves,” Phoebe said. “My sons have a diabolical stubborn streak that doesn’t usually right itself. Beckett’s going to need a pretty good push.”
31
Beckett refused to look at his phone when he got out of bed the next morning. He had no desire to see any apology texts or voicemails from Gianna. And then — when he finally broke down at lunch and checked — he was even more pissed to find there were none.
It was only a matter of time before the whole town knew they were through. Ellery had certainly gotten the message loud and clear that morning when he’d told her not to worry about finishing Evan’s guardianship papers before slamming his office door.
She’d communicated with him via email for the rest of the morning.
He felt bad about being a dick to the one woman he could always count on and offered to buy her lunch. He gave her extra cash and ordered a smoothie from OJ’s just to keep her out of the office a little longer so he could fester in peace.
He couldn’t believe Gianna would do this to him. Just as he’d been thinking about the future …
Thinking about their future got him knocked on the ass by her past. Her present, he corrected himself. Paul was back. And no matter what Gianna’s argument was, Beckett wasn’t going to step between a man and his family. Not one that had the opportunity to be reunited.
He closed his eyes and brought his father’s face to mind. The sharp gray eyes, the lines carved by time and sun. A mouth that always looked as if it was smiling at some inside joke. Beckett could almost hear the sound of his laugh, a raspy chuckle. He would have laughed last night at his boys cruising the town square, razzing each other and reminiscing. John Pierce would have been there with them, riding shotgun in his worn flannel.
He would have been there if he could. But Beckett’s family wasn’t one that could be put back together.
However, Gianna’s could.
By mid-afternoon, Beckett’s curiosity got the best of him. He put aside deposition transcripts that he’d been staring at without seeing for an hour and logged into Facebook. The news had surely gotten out by now. Maybe someone had posted a picture of how Gianna was coping.
Not that he cared.
He frowned at his sc
reen. The link was always there on the left, but it was missing now. He tried the mobile app with the same results. Dismissing it as a glitch, Beckett retreated back to his dark mood and work.
It was another thirty minutes before he gave up entirely.
He wasn’t accomplishing anything moping in his office.
Like a coward, he emailed Ellery from behind closed doors and told her he was calling it a day. He headed upstairs and changed into running clothes and headed out at a hard run toward the trail that snaked through woods and fields.
By mile three, his pace had him gasping for breath. He slowed just enough to not have a heart attack. He heard footsteps on the trail behind him, light and quick. He knew the tread.
“Hey, Beckett,” Taneisha breathed as she loped alongside him, her long legs eating up the gravel with ease.
“Hey.” His greeting sounded like someone was strangling the breath right out of him.
“Sorry to hear about you and Gia,” she said, conversationally.
Beckett stumbled, but recovered quickly. “You heard, huh?”
She shot him an “are you stupid” look. “Yeah, I heard. It’s too bad, but that Paul’s a hell of a guy.”
Beckett swiveled his head on his neck so fast he heard a snap. “Paul? You met him?”
“Yeah, he was in the lunch yoga class today. He’s incredibly limber.”
Beckett grunted. Of course he was. Dick.
“You can tell there’s a long history there,” Taneisha continued, oblivious to Beckett’s internal conflict. “Anyway, I better pick up the pace.” She winked and shoved her earbuds back in her ears.
“Break a leg,” Beckett muttered.
“What was that?” Taneisha slowed up her pace and pulled out an earbud.
“Uh, I said good luck.”
She waved and took off, her antelope strides leaving him behind to stew in his funk.
It happened everywhere. Everyone wanted to talk about Paul. And no one seemed interested in the fact that Beckett was devastated and furious over the breakup. No, Fran at the gym wanted to tell him all about Paul’s superior squat clean and how he knew one of her drummer friends.
When he ran into Ernest Washington at the gas station, he made sure to tell Beckett about Paul’s interest and extensive background in the VW culture. And Bruce Oakleigh called him just to tell him that Paul had a “really terrific suggestion” about a town battle of the bands festival for the summer.
Beckett’s own mother didn’t even ask how he was feeling before launching into singing the praises of Paul who had apparently joined Gianna and the kids at Franklin’s house for a nice family dinner. “I just think it’s so amazing that he’s instilled a love of music in his kids. Did you know that Aurora can name all the members of the Beatles?”
No, Mother. He didn’t know that. And quite frankly he didn’t really care. Not that he said that to Phoebe. But he sure thought it.
“You realize this means that Gianna and I broke up, right?”
Phoebe chuckled. “Darling, if you were serious about her you wouldn’t have let a little competition get in your way. You’re probably relieved. I’m sure it was tricky for you dating a woman with kids. Now you can go back to your Trudys.”
Beckett felt sick at the thought.
The last time he answered his phone it was Anthony Berkowicz calling to get a quote from Beckett on Paul Decker’s musician chic wardrobe. “We’re trying to expand the readership of The Monthly Moon with a fashion section,” he’d explained.
Beckett had hung up on him and narrowly avoided throwing his cellphone through the leaded glass window.
By Day Three of the breakup that nobody else cared about, he’d not only given up answering his phone, but also shaving, protein shakes, and client meetings. Whoever was calling or on the schedule was just going to tell him Paul Decker got nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize or saved Mrs. Nordeman from a choking death with the Heimlich maneuver. And Beckett could live without that knowledge.
But he couldn’t live without food. The only food left in the house was cereal and sour cream, a combination he’d been desperate enough to sample at lunch. A choice he regretted immediately. Beckett pulled the hooded sweatshirt over his head, hoping to go unrecognized in downtown Blue Moon. It was a risky move while it was still light outside, but he had no other choice.
He called in a to-go order from Peace of Pizza to be ready in half an hour and took a deep breath as he stepped out on to his front porch. He could do this. He’d swing by the library to check out the space for Evan’s Debate Club — if Evan still wanted him to be the advisor. And then he’d sneak into downtown to pick up dinner.
In, out, no need for anyone to talk to him about how great Paul Fucking Decker was.
Luck was on his side and he was able to avoid all human contact besides friendly waves and “hey theres” on the way to the library.
It was one of the oldest buildings in Blue Moon. Originally a school, the brick three-story building now housed the town’s eclectic collection of literature. There was an entire section dedicated to tie-dye crafts.
A man on a mission, Beckett quickly walked past the front desk. Usually the combination of scents of old books and the new carpet the board had installed last year made him feel nostalgic, but today he had no room for nostalgia. Taking the stairs in the atrium at the center of the building, he jogged up to the second floor.
There were more books here, including a special wing dedicated to Woodstock and the rest of the sixties. The back half of the floor was still cordoned off into the original classrooms that were now used as meeting spaces.
He picked a door at random and opened it. And stepped into a fresh hell.
Willa, Rainbow and Gordon Berkowicz, Bruce Oakleigh, Bobbie from Peace of Pizza, and Wilson Abramovich, the town jeweler, sat around a conference table listening intently as Ellery walked them through a three-point plan for something.
The TV screen on the wall had two pictures on it. Gia’s and Paul’s. There was a handwritten timeline on a white board behind her with the last event listed as Happily Ever After.
There were iced heart-shaped cookies on a platter in the center of the table. Everyone had a ruby red notebook in front of them with the initials B.C. embossed in a heart on the covers.
“Oh my God.”
All eyes flew guiltily to him. Gordon was the first to react. He jumped up and tried to cover the TV screen with his slight build.
“Oh, hey there, Beckett,” he said, lacing his fingers behind his head and spreading his elbows wide.
“Ellery?” Beckett’s betrayal was complete. He sagged against the doorframe. “You, too?”
She looked like a little kid caught stealing cookies. “I’m sorry, Beckett. I thought this is what you wanted. You broke up with Gia so she could get back with Paul and he’s such a great guy.”
The table murmured their agreement.
“You know Paul?” Beckett asked.
“Sure, he came into the office today.” Guilt turned to excitement. “Oh my God, did you know he opened for the Flying Spiders?”
She must have taken Beckett’s blank look as permission to keep going.
“The Flying Spiders are the hottest goth grunge band this side of the Mississippi. Paul was opening for them and ended up playing a set with them when their drummer was too strung out —”
He cut her off. “You all should be ashamed of yourselves, meddling in people’s lives. What if they don’t want your help? What if there’s someone else out there, better for … someone?” He wasn’t making any sense now.
“But Beckett, we were just following your lead. Getting Paul and Gia back together. It’s what you wanted,” Ellery said, her dark eyes wide and sad. She looked like a kicked puppy and Beckett felt like the victim of an elephant stampede.
He glanced at the whiteboard again. Within the bounds of a red heart the numbers 27-0 were written. The Beautification Committee’s record of wins in love. They had never failed in a
match. Why did he want them to fail this time? This was the right thing, wasn’t it?
He backed out into the hallway, shutting the door with a click, without another word and missed the satisfied grins around the table.
Beckett left the library under a cloud of doom. With the involvement of the B.C. it was only a matter of time before Gia and Paul were remarried and working on baby number three. Most likely in his backyard.
He wanted to throw up.
But it was what he wanted or at least what was right — wasn’t it? Then why did he feel like shit? And how had he not known that Ellery was a member of the B.C.?
Maizie at Peace of Pizza told him it would be another couple of minutes and rather than wait inside with people, he chose to head across the street to the solitude of the park. If he stayed on this end of it, he wouldn’t get too close to the yoga studio, wouldn’t witness Paul doing some flying swan handstand pose or something equally awesome.
He was just stepping up onto the curb when a little flash of red flew at him. “Bucket!”
Aurora, bundled up in a purple coat, launched herself at him. Without thinking, he swooped her up and held her high until she giggled.
“I missed you, Bucket!” she said, when he settled her on his hip. “Mama says you’re busy.”
He felt a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry, shortcake. I miss you, too.”
She had little pink mittens on her hands and her ponytail was askew. “I’m hungry, Bucket. Can I have a snack?”
Beckett wished with all his might that he had a snack squirreled away in a pocket to give her. “Sorry, kiddo. I don’t have anything with me.”
Her face fell, hungry devastation.
“Where’s your mom?” he asked, realizing that a panicked Gianna should have come running by now.
“She’s at da school wiv Evan for somethin’.”
“Did you run away from the school?” Beckett was already digging for his phone before realizing it was still at home.
“No! Silly!” she giggled. “I’m wiv Daddy.”
“Okay, then where’s Daddy?” Beckett asked. Darkness was starting to fall and the park, even in Blue Moon it was no place for a five-year-old by herself.