“Uh huh!” She wiggles out of my arms. “Look! I’m coloring Valentime’s birds! A pink—” she points at the one on the left, “—this is a pink girl bird, and then this one will be purple and it will be the boy bird.” She promptly grabs a purple marker, uncaps it, and starts coloring the cartoon bird on the right.
“I love them,” I say as I watch her work. “They are so sweet! And I love the colors you picked.”
“Mmhmm!”
“Do they have names?”
It’s not a real question since I’m certain the answer is yes. She names pretty much everything that touches her heart in some way: her stuffed animals, random actual animals we see, her dolls, her couch blanket.
Indeed, she’s already telling me these birds’ names are Pink Bird and Purple Bird.
They aren’t the most creative ones she has ever come up with, but I still tell her, “Those are great.”
“Yep! And guess what?”
I ask, “What?” at the same time that a familiar, playful male voice does.
Theo looks behind me and up, then gasps with wild excitement.
“Uncle Beck!” She’s out of her chair in the blink of an eye.
“The-o-dor-a!”
I twist around in time to watch him scoop her up into their usual huge hug, which takes her off the ground—and which makes me wonder anew how her getting bigger never seems to faze him. Lean though he is, he’s nothing but shining blue-gray eyes and a cheerful grin.
Emphatically, he says to her, “Oh. My. Gosh. You are the cutest of the cute!”
She giggles, thanks him, points at the red sequin leggings that are part of the outfit my mom bought her. “Look how sparkly I am!”
“I see that, little ma’am! You’re so sparkly I may just go blind!”
He turns that grin down to me now, and I kind of think I might go blind from it.
I often wish I could be as brilliant as Beckett is. Not that he’s endlessly so—absolutely not. Between what he has struggled with from his past and what he has been through with Cliff, I’ve seen him as dark as a starless sky more times than I’d have liked. But when there’s light about him, there is light about him.
“Hi, Noelle,” he greets me with a different warmth than what he beamed at Theo.
‘I’m here,’ emanates from him.
It’s nothing new, yet it’s still a comfort.
Him being around is a comfort regardless of the occasion. His presence is so valuable; one side of him promises to engulf us in that smiling warmth, and the other promises he’ll do his best even as he laments that Cliff isn’t with us.
No matter what, him being nearby is a good thing.
Although I don’t manage to match his grin, I do manage to smile more than I have all morning. “Hi.”
His eyes soften slightly as they follow me getting to my feet. He shifts Theo around a bit, sends one of his thumbs up to skip absently over the small yet noticeable scar on his left cheekbone, and takes a measured breath. There’s something he wants to say.
He goes with, “I’m so glad to see y’all.”
I don’t get the feeling that’s the ‘something’ in question, but I won’t pry. He’ll get it out eventually. We’ve long been good enough friends that words don’t tend to stay trapped inside him for long.
Theo talks to him while I retrieve my phone from my purse. “We’re so glad to see you! Why did you come? Are you here for my Valentime’s party?”
“I sure am! Your mama invited me as a surprise for you, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
Her peals of laughter are full of delight, and it makes me smile a little more yet.
Once I’ve gotten my camera ready, I say, “Okay, Uncle Beck and The-o-dor-a—cheese, please.”
They shift around to face me better.
“Cheeeese!” they say together.
I snap a few great pictures. Theo is adorable in her white and red heart-print top, red sequin leggings, and black patent leather shoes, the straps of which are decorated with red heart appliqués. Beckett is easily holding her on one arm, looking smooth and handsome in the gray button-down shirt and light khakis he has on for work. The overhead lights are soft on his brown hair and her golden locks, and the rest of their selves almost seems to glow in the sunlight filtering in through the big windows across the room.
“Gorgeous,” I inform them.
“Pff,” he returns airily. “You haven’t seen a gorgeous picture yet. Girls’ turn! Let’s go!”
With a swift change of how he’s holding her, he swings Theo back down to her feet in a way only someone strong could pull off. It gets an exhilarated yelp out of her.
I kneel down to her level again, and she wraps her arms around me. After I’ve enclosed her in my arms, too, we cooperate with Beckett pretending to be a professional photographer.
It’s easy to be amused by his, “Ooh, yes! Perfection! Natural talent! I’ve never seen such beauty in my life!” It even gets chuckles out of some of the other adults who have come for the party.
We’re looking over the pictures, which really are nice, when Ms. Louisa calls out for everyone’s attention. She cheerfully welcomes us parents and special guests to the pre-k Valentine’s Day lunch party. Slider sandwiches, cookies, and punch are available for the next hour. Then things will wrap up so kids can either be taken home early or left to stay until later as usual. In the meantime, there’s a craft we’re encouraged to do with our youngsters.
“Okay, what first?” I ask Theo. “Craft or food?”
“Craft!” She climbs back into her chair and starts pushing her coloring sheet away. “Are you both gonna help me?”
Beckett only gets, “Of c—” out before she’s exclaiming something else.
“Oh! I changed my mind! These birds don’t have those other names I said.” She points at the purple one. “This is a girl now, and it’s Mommy.” She points at the pink one. “This is a boy, and it’s Uncle Beck.”
I smile while Beckett chuckles out, “Aww!” He steps closer to get a better look. “That is awesome! I’ve never had anything named after me before. Thank you!”
She smiles toothily at him, then at me. “Do you think it’s awesome, too, Mommy?”
I reach down to sweep her hair behind her ear. “Very, very awesome.” After a second of hesitation, I let myself joke, “How did you know Uncle Beck’s favorite color is pink?”
He laughs openly now and thumps me on the shoulder.
“Yeah, Theo,” he plays along, “how’d you know? Are you a mind-reader?”
She seems to seriously consider the question; she doesn’t get that we’re teasing. But that’s okay. We’re not making fun of her—not making fun of anybody. Just being a little silly.
“Yes,” she answers. “I am a mind-reader.”
“Oh, now.” Beckett raises his eyebrows. “What am I thinking right this second?”
Squinting at him, she tries to gaze into the depths of his mind. “You like coloring!”
“Aw, almost! I was thinking I like coloring with you!”
“Aw, man!” A beat passes. Then, still seriously: “I actually don’t feel like a mind-reader. I was just pretending.”
He gives her an easy thumbs-up. “Well, that’s okay, ‘cause I don’t think there are very many people who don’t pretend. But hey, let’s party!”
The sparkle returns to her eyes. “Yeah!”
He and I fix ourselves around her chair just as Ms. Louisa drops off a bunch of craft kits at this desk clump. I snag one for Theo, and so commences our partying.
We snack on food and sip at punch. We talk about nothing. I take more pictures. Beckett and Theo laugh and play around with each other. He and I help build the small cardboard birdhouse and watch as she decorates it.
And I wish Cliff were here.
I wish he could see how funny our girl is becoming, and how proud she is of her progress in learning to write, and how she rushes to help when one of her fellow pre-kindergarteners tri
ps and falls as he’s walking past her desk.
Still, as the minutes pass, I can’t help but enjoy myself in spite of his absence. Theo and Beckett are simply wonderful. Impossible to shrink away from.
I haven’t been put into a fully good mood, but I’m doing better than I was upon waking this morning.
“This is the best party ever,” Theo tells us. I watch her accept a napkin from Beckett and wipe red punch off her chin.
I agree, “It is.”
He says, “I wish it could last forever,” and although his tone is light, it isn’t teasing. He really is having fun.
“Me, too,” she sighs. “I’m so, so happy.”
The two of them grin at each other, and it warms my heart that much more.
Unfortunately, we’re soon forced to acknowledge that the party can’t last forever. Our hour has sped by; before we know it, Ms. Louisa is thanking everyone for coming, and the other guests are saying their goodbyes.
Sometimes Theo cries when Beckett or I have to leave her, but she does well with it now, regardless of her claim that she’s been having the time of her life. Just as she did when I dropped her off this morning, she easily accepts our hugs, words of love, and promises to see her again in no time at all.
I’m glad for that. Glad she really isn’t as sad about today as I am.
Outside, the sun is shining, but the day doesn’t seem to have warmed up much. Beckett still insists on walking me to my car, though.
“I don’t want you to be cold,” I say as gather my hair in my hands so the wind will stop tossing it into my face.
“Nah, I’m all right,” he replies.
“But it’s freezing and this wind sucks, and you don’t have a coat on.” As I eye him, I add, “Where is your coat?”
He lets out a soft laugh that I almost don’t hear over the noise of the wind in my ears. “I…” he sends me a pursed-lips glance, “…well, I’ll tell you what I absolutely, one hundred percent did not do: spill chocolate milk all over it this morning.”
Without warning, a full smile rushes to my face.
He reflects it back at me, then laughs more heartily.
“I don’t think I believe you,” I say.
“No?”
“No.”
“Wellll, that’s ‘cause you’re smart.”
I have to laugh a bit now too. “Could you not get the chocolate milk scrubbed out, or…?”
“Honestly, I didn’t even try. I was scared of making it worse somehow. I’ll just take it to the cleaners later.”
“Oh.” I shrug. “Nothing wrong with that. They’re the professionals.”
“Yep!”
We continue the walk to my car in silence.
After I’ve opened my door, I look at him to say goodbye, and I see he’s regarding me with the same softness from earlier. With the wind ruffling his hair, he takes another slow breath—and unlike before, he opens his mouth to say whatever is on his mind.
After a lengthy moment, he tips me a small smile and asks, “Still cool if I come by the house later? Around six?”
Once again, nothing remarkable.
All right. Maybe he’ll spit it out later.
I nod. “Will you feel like eating dinner with us?”
Now he sighs. “I will, but I won’t be able to. Got something planned with Jenna.”
…Well, duh, Noelle. How’d you forget just now that it’s Valentine’s Day?
Blinking, I shake my head a little. “Oh, of course. How’s she doing?”
He gives a shrug, but it doesn’t seem very casual. It almost seems awkward, like we’re talking about something unpleasant rather than his girlfriend of several months.
“She’s…okay, I guess.” A light frown has shadowed his features.
Poor guy. I’ve only seen her twice because something has fallen through every other time he and I tried to plan a visit with her, but they’re a generally happy couple, as far as I know. They must be in a bit of an argument or something.
Those sun-lightened eyes flick over me quickly before he clears his throat.
“But thank you. For the dinner invitation, I mean. And for inviting me to this party—God, I had a great time.” He relaxes enough to exhale a laugh.
I absorb it, then remind him, “You’re always welcome with us. All day, every day. And we’re so happy you came to the party.”
He opens his arms and steps toward me, and I mirror him without pause. The hug he wraps me up in is full of his familiar warmth.
“Of course I came to it,” he says. “You and Theo can count on me. All day, every day.”
I nod my understanding against his shoulder.
Our hug ends after another moment, so I pull my purse off from where it’s been slung across my torso. “Be careful driving. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” he says. “You be careful driving, you hear me?”
This has been our parting exchange ever since Cliff died. Being in a car scared both of us for a while afterward, but we eventually got a grip on it by being determined to drive with respect for the dangerous machines that vehicles are. It’s the only control we have when it comes to being on the road, so it’s important to us.
Sometimes our words pang harshly through me, and other times they’re a dull twinge; right now, after the comforting hour Beckett and I have had, I’m thankful the latter is true.
I look him in the eyes and promise, “I hear you too.”
“Good.”
I start getting into the driver’s seat. “See you at six?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He ensures that I’m closed into my car before walking off in the direction of his. I watch him until he’s out of sight.
What a blessing he is.
I used to think he was just Cliff’s loyal, caring, sweet-with-a-troubled-past best friend. Even when he became my friend, too, that’s who he was. And then we all got older, and then everything went to hell, and…now he’s this. I know him better now, somehow. He’s still loyal and kind, still a blend of charming fun and something decidedly serious, but on a whole new level. A more mature, even more solid level.
God knows there have been times when he was more mature than I was, even with me being a mother.
I really ought to find a way to try to repay him for everything he’s done for me and Theo.
I don’t know how you repay something like that, though.
—
“Oh my God!”
Ceceli is squealing over the pictures I snapped of Theo at the party. Gianna and Denver are handling the front of the house while the two of us sit in the small back office for our afternoon breaks.
“Noelle, I can’t deal. Take this back before I go find someone to impregnate me.” She holds the phone out to me, but before I can take it, she pulls it back to her face. “No, wait. Let me admire this baby some more.”
Amused, I assure her, “Whatever you want. Take your time.”
“Most beautiful girl ever,” she sighs.
She gets her fill of the pictures before finally handing my phone back.
“Your mama bought her that outfit? Where’d she find sequin leggings for a four-year-old? Here’s hoping they have adult ones, too, ‘cause I need those in my life.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. Some boutique in Hot Springs, I think.”
I swipe at my phone screen until I can lay one last affectionate gaze on those first pictures of Theo and Beckett. Then I slip my phone into my back pocket and tune in to what Ceceli is saying about the two of them being sweet together.
“Having nieces and nephews is so fun. Literally can’t imagine life without them. I’ve been blessed with seven of them, but some people never get to have any at all! Like Beckett, right? He doesn’t have any siblings?”
I nod. “Right. Definitely part of why it means so much to him that he’s considered Theo’s uncle.”
“Yeah! Ugh. Adorable.”
Indeed, even though Ceceli has been my closest friend for many year
s and even though she loves my kid, too, she doesn’t see her as much as Beckett does. She’s quite used to the aunt role and is casual about the time she allots for playing it, and then that time gets split between Theo and, yes, her actual four nieces and three nephews. Beckett, on the other hand, takes his honorary uncle role very seriously—even when he’s not being serious whatsoever—and he likes to be active in it. The honor of it alone is not enough for him.
It really is adorable.
I murmur, “I wanna do something to show my thanks to him, but I don’t know what.”
“Hmm. Well, we’re surrounded by chocolate.”
“Yeah….”
“Doesn’t he like our caramels? Seems like you bought him a bunch for his last birthday.”
“Yeah.” He loves them with a deep and undying passion, actually.
Pensively, I tap my thumbnails together. I’ve tried for a few hours now to think of a good gift idea, and I’ve not come up with much. Would the caramels be good enough? I don’t really feel so.
“What other stuff does he like?” she asks.
I don’t even have to stop to ponder it, because I’ve been pondering it. “Music, video games, technology in general, Blood & Honey beer, food….”
“Ooh,” Ceceli says. “You got a ton of options just there, girl! Pick one!”
I bite the inside of my cheek, no less torn than before.
“He’s gonna love whatever you go with, and…well…” she gives me an abruptly gentle look, “…well, the truth is there’s nothing you could buy that would convey your message properly. Know what I mean?”
I sure do.
Unfortunately, that’s the entire problem.
Sighing, I nod. “Guess I really should just pick something. No matter what it is, it’ll be the thought that counts, huh?”
Now she gives me a smile. “Yes! Exactly! Don’t fret, babes. He’ll appreciate literally anything you give him, because he’s a good dude.”
Once again, she is very right.
By the time Theo and I are back at home, I’ve decided I’ll offer to cook Beckett anything he wants for dinner on any day he’d like. If my memory serves, there are only two dishes I’ve ever made that he wouldn’t eat again, so he’ll have lots of others to choose from. It’s the best idea I can think of: homemade, enjoyable, still based on whatever he wants, and comes with my and Theo’s company. Maybe Jenna will finally join us, too, and meet Theo and round out the fun.
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