Frankie: On my way back.
Porter: Come by and see me before you go home.
Frankie: Ok
As per my routine, I go inside Porter’s without knocking. It’s as though his place is becoming my home as well. “Porter?”
I find him on the couch in the living room, an angry scowl on his face. “Hey.”
He doesn’t reply.
“What’s wrong?”
He points to a stack of photos on the table. “That’s what’s wrong.”
“What are those?”
“I don’t know. You take a look and tell me what the fuck those are.”
I pick up the photos and thumb through them.
Brendon kissing the side of my face.
Brendon hugging me from behind.
Brendon and I dancing.
This is creepy. “Where did these come from?”
“Charlotte hand-delivered them to me this morning—with a huge fucking smile on her face.”
“These pictures are from this weekend. How in the world did she get her hands on photos of Brendon and me?”
“His name is Brendon?”
“Yeah. That’s Dillyn’s little brother. He goes to Alabama. He went out with us.”
“He’s kissing and hugging and dancing with you.”
“That’s just Brendon. It’s how he is. He’d have acted no differently if you’d been there with me.”
“I fucking doubt that.”
“I’m not lying. There’s nothing between Brendon and me. We’re just friends.”
“Those pictures say otherwise.” Porter’s raising his voice at me. He’s never done that before.
“This is ridiculous.” I take out my phone and go to Instagram. “Look at his profile and tell me what it says.”
Porter looks at it and a big wrinkle forms across his brow.
“Read the profile out loud.”
“Gay as fuck.”
“Yeah. And that ain’t no lie.”
Porter rubs his hand over his scruff. “Fuck. I’m sorry, baby.”
“I’m not upset that you got pissed off by these pictures. If I saw you hugging and kissing on some girl in photos, I’d get mad too. But I am hugely disturbed by the fact that Charlotte has photos of me from this weekend. That means she wasn’t at her house on bed rest like her doctor ordered. She was out risking the welfare of the baby so she could follow me in an effort to get evidence that would make you leave me. That’s fucked up. And I think we need to go to the authorities.”
“What are they going to do? She hasn’t broken any laws.”
“Yet. There needs to be a formal complaint for the records. You don’t know what’s going to happen with her down the road. If she turns out to be an unfit mother, you can’t let that baby stay with her. We already know she’s crazy. And if you have to pursue custody, you’ll need some kind of record of her putting the baby’s safety at risk.”
“I don’t want custody.”
“I don’t either, but you can’t let an innocent baby stay with a crazy woman.”
“This hole just keeps getting deeper and deeper.”
“And she’s not even close to being done with us.”
27
Porter Beckman
“Happy birthday, old man.”
“Thank you, young lady.”
“Are you excited about going home?”
“I’m excited about getting away from here for three days so that woman can’t bother me.”
“Oh, I know. Me too.”
It’s going to be like a fucking vacation.
Charlotte has been upping her game, especially after Frankie and I went to the police.
Multiple trips to the emergency room for a variety of reasons. Contractions. Bleeding. Water breaking. Pain. Falling in the shower—of course because I wasn’t there helping her. There is no end to the hell she is inflicting upon us.
I don’t go to the hospital because I know everything she’s doing is a ruse to get me there.
The boy who cried wolf. One day there’s going to be something legitimately going on with her or the baby, and I won’t know. At least probably not until it’s over.
“I hope she’s not crazy enough to show up at your parents’ house.”
“Are you kidding me? She’s totally crazy enough to do that. She’d love nothing more than to meet Katherine—the baby’s namesake.”
“It irritates the fuck out of me that she’d choose your mother’s name when she doesn’t even know her. She probably snooped around on my social media before I blocked her and figured out that I have a close relationship with Kit. She’s probably choosing her name because she thinks I would want to name our daughter after your mom.”
“I love hearing you say our daughter. Say it again.”
“Our daughter.”
Porter pulls me to him and presses our foreheads together. “It’s so unfair that our lives can’t move forward until this shit is over with her.”
I use the word over but that won’t be the case if the paternity test says the baby is mine. It’ll only be the start of my hell. And as much as I love Frankie and want her as my wife and mother of my children, I don’t know if I can drag her into this burning hell with me.
“It’s your birthday. I want you to enjoy it without stressing. Let’s agree not to talk about her the entire weekend.”
“You. My mama’s cooking. And zero conversation about Charlotte and the baby. That’s exactly what I need for the perfect birthday weekend.”
“What time do you want to leave?”
“I was thinking two, but I say let’s hit the road right now.” I want to get out of here before anything happens.
“I don’t have anything pressing, so let’s do it.”
Things are quiet when Frankie and I enter my parents’ house. “Mom? Dad?”
No answer. “I’m not sure they’re home.”
“Both cars are in the drive. Would they be out on the four-wheelers?”
“Mom’s not a big rider.”
“Maybe they didn’t hear us because they’re out back.”
I poke my head out the patio door and call out for them. Nothing.
We go into the house. “Maybe I’m unnecessarily on edge, but I don’t like that no one is answering me.”
We walk down the hallway toward the bedrooms, my fear growing with every step. “Ohh… uh… ooh…”
I stop dead in my tracks. “Turn around. Go back,” I whisper.
“What is it?”
“Gabe…”
Frankie’s eyes widen and her mouth parts before she chuckles. “Oh shit.”
“Go. Now.”
We tiptoe to the living room and sit on the couch, both of us bursting into laughter at the same time. “I can’t believe we just almost walked in on your parents having sex.”
“It’s the middle of the day.”
“We have sex in the middle of the day. All the time.”
“But we’re not in our sixties.”
“Well, we will be one day. And when we are, I hope we still have sex in the middle of the day.”
“I hope I’m still getting some of your pound cake in thirty years.”
“My pound cake?”
“Yes, baby. I love your pound cake.”
“You are so silly sometimes.” Frankie pinches my mouth and kisses my lips. “They’re going to know we’re sitting on the couch because we went looking for them. Should we go to the truck and come back in, so they don’t know we caught them?
“Mom caught us. Seems only fair to return the favor.”
“Porter? Is that you and Frankie?”
“In the living room, Mom.”
“Okay. Give me a minute. I want to put on my head scarf.”
“No rush.”
“I bet she needs to put on more than a scarf.”
“Shut up, Frankie. That’s my mom.”
“I think it’s wonderful they haven’t let her illness stop them from being intimate.”
“I
don’t want to talk about my parents being intimate.”
They come into the living room and my mom goes to Frankie first, pulling her in for an embrace. “Sweet Frankie. I’m so happy to see you.”
My mom doesn’t say the words, but I know they’re in her head. She didn’t think she’d ever see Frankie again after she found out about Charlotte’s pregnancy. She thought she’d leave me for good.
“It’s good to see you, Kit. You look well with your rosy cheeks.”
“I got some red blood cells earlier this week. It’s helping with my color. And my stamina.”
No kidding. I know Dad doesn’t mind that.
“Glad you’ll have some energy during the birthday boy’s visit.”
We’re sitting at dinner when Charlotte’s first text makes my phone vibrate. Frankie cuts her eyes at me, and I know she’s unhappy. “It’s on silent.”
“This would be so much easier if you could block her.”
“I know. I wish I could.”
“Ignore it for now. Let’s enjoy being with the family, and we’ll deal with it after dinner.”
I love being home. And I love seeing Frankie bond with my family. I can’t wait until she is officially a Beckman.
Frankie is in the bathroom washing her face. “What does clusterfuck want?”
I take out my phone and read the series of texts that came through during dinner.
Charlotte: Where are you?
Charlotte: Stop ignoring me.
Charlotte: I’m coming to your house if you don’t answer me.
I read the texts aloud to Frankie. “What do I say?”
“Let her know you’re out of town. If she knows you can’t be reached, then maybe she’ll leave you alone.”
Porter: Out of town.
Charlotte: Where?
“She wants to know where.”
“Lie. You sure don’t want her to suspect you’re here.”
Porter: Nashville.
Charlotte: I wanted to give you your birthday present.
How the hell does she know it’s my birthday? I didn’t tell her.
Frankie comes into the bedroom and I turn my phone around so she can read her response. “What do you think my present could be?”
“She’s probably wanting to give you some dookie chute.”
Fuck, no, she didn’t just say that. “You’re gross, Frankie.”
“I’m gross? She’s the one trying to get you to bang her in the shitter.”
“That didn’t happen with her. It’s never going to happen with her. So let’s stop that conversation right there.”
“Did you check the room?”
“Forgot.”
I get out of bed and look under it. No Bennett or Callan.
Frankie points to the closet and I yank it open. No Bennett or Callan.
Her eyes widen and she points to two pairs of feet sticking out from beneath the drapes. “I don’t guess the boys are hiding in here tonight.”
“Nope. I think we’re in the clear.”
We prowl toward the window like predators after our prey. I hold up one, two, three fingers and yank the curtain back. “RAWWWR!”
Bennett and Callan scream and two streaks take off running for the door. Serves their little asses right.
“Do you smell that? I think one of them shit their pants.”
Frankie grins. “I think you’re right.”
It’s impossible not to fall across the bed laughing our asses off.
“That was sort of mean of us.”
“No way. They deserved that.”
“We have to start checking the room earlier. They do not need to hear conversations about dookie chutes.”
“I don’t need to hear conversations about dookie chutes.”
“Power off your phone. I don’t want our sexy time to be interrupted.”
“Ooh. We’re having sexy time?”
“We’re having birthday sexy time. But you have to be very quiet so no one hears us. Can you do that?”
Fuck, I keep forgetting to tighten the frame on this bed.
I nod and wait to see what’s coming.
Frankie opens her robe, and she’s wearing a red sexy gown thing with her tits tied up in a huge red bow. “This is one of your first gifts to open.”
“Happy fucking birthday to me.”
I wake to Frankie’s naked body nestled against me. “This is what I want. Waking like this with you beside me every morning.”
“According to you, there’s a way to make that happen.”
“We’re going to make that happen.” Soon. Like springtime-or-early-summer soon. Just got to wait on this winter storm to pass.
“What kind of engagement ring would you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on. All girls know what kind of ring they want.”
She touches the diamond pendant at her neck. “I love this. The cushion cut with a halo around it.”
“I looked at engagement rings when I was in the store buying your necklace. I held one in my fingers and thought about buying it, but we hadn’t talked that much about getting married at the time. I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”
Frankie turns and wraps her arms and legs around me. “You think I’d say yes now?”
“I know you would. Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t get any more of this.” I open my mouth and roll my tongue in a wave.
“Then I had better say yes. Because I cannot go the rest of my life without that magic mouth.”
I’m giving Frankie a little bit of my magic when a tap on the bedroom door interrupts. “Porter? You have a phone call.”
My parents are the only people I know who still have a landline in their house. “Who is it?”
“She didn’t say. I brought the cordless for you.”
She. “I’ll give you one guess as to who she is.”
“I don’t think either of us has to guess.”
I come up from between Frankie’s legs, wiping my mouth. “Just a minute, Mom.”
I pull on my sleep pants and Frankie wraps her robe around her body. I open the door and my mom covers the lower part of the phone. “Porter… I think it may be that Charlotte woman.”
“I’m certain it is.”
“Is there something going on? More than her being pregnant?”
I see the worry in my mom’s eyes. “Mom, it’s gone far beyond her being pregnant. You wouldn’t believe the things she’s done to Frankie and me.”
“Oh, Porter.”
“It’s bad, Mom. So bad.”
“And Frankie hasn’t left your side.”
“Not for a minute. And trust me, she should have. Many times.”
“She’s a keeper.”
“No doubt about it.”
My mom grins. “You need to put a ring on her finger before she wises up.”
“I’m working on it. Promise.”
“Good. But work faster.”
My mom hands the phone to me. “Sure you want to have this conversation in front of Frankie?”
“Frankie knows everything. I’m completely transparent about all things with this woman.”
“That’s a necessity for a strong marriage. You’re doing right.”
“Hello.”
“You’re such a lying piece of shit.”
“Good morning to you, too, Charlotte.”
“You are not in Nashville.”
“How would you know where I am?”
“People make public posts. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”
I’ve not posted anything. And I know Frankie hasn’t either. That can only mean that Charlotte is watching one of my family members’ social accounts. Which means I’m going to have to have every one of them block her.
“Did you turn off your phone, or are you just not responding to my texts?”
“I turned off my phone. I didn’t want you disturbing my family time. And yet here you are… disturbing my family time.”
“Is she there
with you?”
“Of course she’s with me. Not that that is any of your business.”
“I can’t believe it’s your birthday and you took a whore to see your family over the mother of your child. I should be there getting to know your family. What part of that don’t you get?”
“You’re not meeting my family until I know that kid is mine.”
“Katherine is your daughter. The test will prove it. And we will be a family.”
“It doesn’t matter what that test shows; we will never be a family.”
“If you insist on having your little whore then that means she’ll be a part of my child’s life. How do I know that she’s fit to be a stepmother?”
“Look, I’m visiting my family. I don’t have time to have these useless conversations with you right now.”
“Well, I think it’s time I pay Scott and Tara Dawson a little visit. I think they should know what kind of man their little girl is dating.”
No. No. No.
That would ruin everything.
“Don’t do that, Charlotte.”
“I think I should.”
“Please don’t.” Fuck, I hate pleading with this bitch. But I will. “I’m begging you not to do that.”
“How badly do you not want me to?”
What is she asking for? Money?
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to leave her. I want you to never see her again. And if you don’t do this for me, I’ll go to her parents and tell them you got me pregnant and abandoned me when you started fucking their daughter.”
“That would be a lie.”
“I’ll also tell them she knows about my pregnancy, and the two of you flaunt your relationship in my face, which ultimately sent me into preterm labor.”
“You’re such a liar and manipulator.”
“Well, even if they don’t believe me, the proof of what you’ve done is growing in my belly right now. And that’s a fact. You’re not getting out of that one. So tell me, Porter. How do you think all of this is going to look to Pollyanna’s parents? Think they’ll go along with her marrying you? Becoming an instant stepmother?”
I don’t reply because I know she isn’t wrong. Scott and Tara will not want that for Frankie.
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