by G. K. Brady
Beckett swept moisture from his cheeks. “It was her, Dad. And I want her back, but she’s so damn stubborn.”
“Son, you’ve never been one to ask for advice, but can you stand a little from your old man now?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’d really like that.” The words caught in Beckett’s sticky throat.
“Don’t give up,” Dad said. “You’re no quitter—not when you set your sights on something. You have to be more mule-headed than she is. When she says no next time, and she will, come at her a different way. You need a woman like her in order to be your best, so keep at it. Otherwise, you’ll be lost like I was.”
.~ * * * ~.
The next morning, Beckett’s smartphone chimed with a reminder. April third. He drew in a cleansing breath, then two more, and tapped a text with birthday-themed emojis. Happy birthday, Andie. Nothing flashy, nothing pushy. Just a text from a friend.
He didn’t expect a reply right away—she’d barely responded to him in the last month—so he was taken by surprise when a text chirped.
Thanks. Need 2 talk. When’s a good time?
She wants to talk to me? He thought he knew why.
Now. He hit send and stared at his phone, holding it so tight his hand cramped. His heart pounded. Finally, her pretty face lit up his screen.
“Hey, pixie.”
“Hi, Beck,” came her small voice.
“It’s, ah, been a long time.” He paused to cough. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. Look, I wanted to talk about this money your attorney’s trying to give me.”
Bingo. “Yeah? He explained about that, right? I’m just following up on my promise to pay you back the commission I owe. Did he also say he negotiated a nice settlement against Yamila? She’ll never bother you or me again. The eighty grand I owed you didn’t put a dent in that payoff, by the way.” Not exactly true, but Andie didn’t have to know.
“Beckett, I didn’t want—”
“I know what you didn’t want, but I want this off my conscience. Always did. Now we’re square.” Before she could argue, he switched gears. “So how have you been?”
A long sigh. “Well, that’s the other reason I wanted to talk to you.”
Beckett tried to keep the alarm from his voice. He wasn’t successful. “What’s going on, pixie?”
“I, ah … Oh God. This is hard.”
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
“Andie, are you okay? The baby?” What did he have to do today? Could he squeeze in a flight to Denver?
His heart about broke when she sobbed on the other end. “I lost it, Beck. A few days ago. I’ve been, um, recuperating, or I’d have told you sooner. I’m so sorry.”
Hot tears flushed his eyes. “Why are you sorry?” he choked out. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve been there. I should’ve taken you in when the trouble started. Maybe they could’ve sav—”
“No. The doctor says there was nothing to be done. I started cramping, and it just happened. All at once.”
He wiped his nose on his T-shirt. “So what are your chances … Does this affect you having kids someday?”
“She says I’ll be fine once my body recovers.”
His stomach felt like the pit Indiana Jones didn’t want to climb into—the one slithering with snakes. “What can I do? Is Katie there? Is someone looking after you?”
“Katie’s working from home for a few days, but I don’t need looking after. I’m fine. Just worn out. There’s nothing for you to do, but thanks for asking.”
Beckett’s little green monster popped up and leered. “Does Adrian know?”
“Well, um, I never told him about the pregnancy.”
“Why not?” Somewhat mollified, the monster slithered back into its hole.
“I don’t know. On some level, I believed it was yours, and I just didn’t want to deal with him.”
Breath escaped Beckett in slow flight. He dropped his forehead in his palm.
“Are you there, Beck?”
“Yeah, pixie. I’m here.”
“I’m, uh, glad the video didn’t get out. Tom told me she made it last spring without you knowing, back when you were kind of screwed up.”
“I’m glad you know.” And that you listened to him, ‘cause you sure as hell didn’t listen to me.
“Looks like you’ve been keeping a low profile,” she added. “At least I haven’t seen anything in the tabloids.”
So she’s looking? “Because they can’t report something that’s not happening. Well, I guess they could, but they’d be making it up, and then I’d sue their asses.”
“Um, how’s it going, playing again?”
“It’s good. Not gonna lie, it was killer at first, and my ankles get a little cranky, but I’m gonna enjoy it while it lasts. Hey, I have an idea. We have a long home stand coming up. How about I fly you out to catch a game?”
“I don’t know, Beck.”
“Why not?”
“I need time to figure things out. Get that video out of my head, put all that’s happened behind me. I’m not confident in my judgment where men are concerned.”
Don’t lump me in with “men.” I didn’t do anything wrong! he wanted to howl. Instead he said, “Can we at least be friends again, Andie? God, I miss you … so much.”
Her voice cracked. “I don’t know if I can go back.”
“Fine, then. Don’t go back. Go forward. Don’t be my friend, be my wife.”
She let out a sad chuckle. “I think you should be friends before becoming spouses.”
“You’re putting us in a catch-22, aren’t you? We did the friend thing, and it worked. Now let’s do the spouse thing.”
“I don’t think it’d work, Beck. Look, I really should go.”
He huffed out a breath. “What are you doing for your birthday?”
“Ice cream and an old movie.”
“Vanilla? My favorite. Beats the rest of those fancy flavors, hands down. Always has.”
“Thanks for the birthday wishes, Beck.”
“Don’t do this, Andie. Please.”
She was gone. He looked around the space, melancholy sinking relentless claws into him. The realization that no copper-headed little girls, no blue-eyed boys were on the horizon tore a gash somewhere deep inside. How did he even mourn? He hadn’t been there, hadn’t been allowed a part. It was as though she’d gotten pregnant in a vacuum, and he’d been an anonymous donor. And now the last tether, the only tie he’d had to her, had been hacked in half like a deep-space astronaut’s severed hose, setting him adrift to roll and tumble end over end, floating in cold, dark nothingness forever.
CHAPTER 30
Hard Habit to Break
After Paige hung up, she heaved out a long, slow breath, dropped her head on her folded arms, and let out the tears clogging her throat. She cried for the loss of the baby she’d never planned on. She cried for the loss of a friend and lover she’d never planned on. And she cried for everything she had planned on and lost—celebrating success with Grandma, a faithful husband who loved her, children. Also lost was her inner goddess, that brazen beauty who’d emerged when Beckett had coaxed her out, and who’d slinked into her cave when Paige pushed him away. Paige missed her.
She missed Beckett.
Put on your big-girl pants and stop feeling sorry for yourself.
She hauled herself up and opened her freezer, staring numbly at its sparse white-rack shelves. Ice cream. She needed ice cream. Vanilla, Beckett’s favorite. No, nobody loved vanilla best. Yet she did. Why couldn’t he?
The cold air was still streaming over her face when her phone buzzed. She picked it up, surprised by the Florida number. “Mom?”
“Paige. How’s my girl?”
My girl? “I’m fine, Mom,” she said warily. “What are you doing?” It came off rude, not what she’d intended, but her mom seemed not to notice. Always in her own world.
“Well, I’m calling because … Paige, I’m getting married.”
&
nbsp; “What? Who?”
Her mother trilled, a sound Paige had loved as a girl. Now she just sounded like a woman pretending to be a girl herself. “His name is Ken Sorenson, and we were good friends in high school. Different backgrounds, different social circles, but we were close, you know? Not in a romantic way. Just friends. He moved away junior year, and I … Well, let’s just say I lost my way, and for that, Paige, I’m sorrier than you know.”
Whoa. Is hell freezing over? Stunned by her mom’s apology, Paige deflected with a question. “How did you reconnect?”
“An alumni newsletter. I sent him an email. And here we are! I think you’ll like him, Paige.” Her mother cleared her throat. “Ken has encouraged me to reach out and explain about your father.” Her mother paused, and Paige allowed this statement to sink in.
“My father? You know who he is?” She fought to hold back her astonishment.
“Yes, Paige. I always did. So did your grandmother, but she thought it best to keep it from you. Ken has convinced me otherwise, and honey, I hope I’m doing the right thing.”
Paige stumbled to a kitchen chair and sat down hard. Her hand trembled as she brought it to her forehead. “So all these years you let me believe he was some random, unknown guy you picked up? Who is he, Mom?” she croaked.
A long drag on a cigarette. “His name was Cliff Hartwig. I met him when I was sixteen. He was dark and dangerous, unlike any other boy I knew, and I was dazzled. Unfortunately, he turned out to be … Well, he led me down twisted paths it’s taken me a lifetime to recover from. Do you know the song ‘Magic Man’ by Heart? That was our story, Cliff’s and mine. We were together about fifteen months. Mom sued for custody after you were born. Cliff was livid; he wanted you so bad. But be grateful your grandma won. His life—our life—was no place for a child.”
“So he knew me? Wait. Was Cliff Hartwig?”
“Cliff was a smooth-talking, small-time drug dealer who cheated the wrong people. When he couldn’t smooth-talk his way out of a con, he turned state’s evidence and got a reduced sentence. But he died in prison six months later when his cellmate stabbed him to death. The cellmate might have been paid off, but no one could prove it.”
Paige’s mouth swung open as she searched for something to say. She came up empty.
“I was pretty screwed up,” Mom continued. “Seeing you only sporadically was mostly my fault, but it was Grandma’s too. She said I was a bad influence. She protected you like a mama bear, Paige. She loved you so much.” Her voice cracked. “I, ah, don’t know anything about Cliff’s people, so be careful if you start digging. You’re a brave girl with such a huge heart. And trusting. Just like your grandma. I wish I’d been more like her.”
Was this conversation really happening? “But you did trust Cliff. And I trusted Adrian.”
“I know. We put faith in the wrong people, but that doesn’t make us wrong. You learn and move on. Don’t let Adrian’s disloyalty keep you from trusting again, or you’ll miss out. Just like I’ve done for decades. If I hadn’t let Ken in, let myself love again, how sad would that be? Now I have my best friend and the love of my life.”
Dazed, Paige stared out the window, vaguely aware of two squirrels scratching bark as they chased one another up and down a tree.
“Paige, love is messy, and it’s painful because our hearts choose who we fall in love with, and hearts aren’t rational. They can drive us to do crazy things. Find someone who fits you like a comfortable pair of jeans. If he makes your blood bubble, even better.”
I did find him, Mom. And I let him go.
.~ * * * ~.
Paige pulled on her coat and slid behind the wheel of her truck. A half hour later, she sat on a stone bench by Grandma’s grave, where she’d just laid fresh flowers. She tugged her collar tight to her neck.
“I know it’s not your birthday, Grandma, but we need to talk.” Paige looked around. No one was watching.
“So Mom told me about my father, and I’ve gotta say, I’m beyond shocked. I have so many emotions ricocheting inside me right now. And so many questions. Questions I wish you could answer. Like why you never told me? All this time, I thought my dad didn’t know about me or wanted nothing to do with me. I thought I wasn’t special enough. And you’re partly to blame for that. He wasn’t around because he’s dead, not because he didn’t want me. I get that you were protecting me, but do you understand what a difference knowing the truth would have made in my life?” Her heart felt as though barbed wire dragged across it.
“And now the person I would normally run to isn’t there anymore. He was my best friend, and I drove him away. He said I was chicken, and you know what, Grandma? He was right. The first crisis, and I immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. I didn’t let him defend himself. I acted as though he broke my heart, but he didn’t. I was looking for an excuse. I thought he would leave me too, so I beat him to the punch.” Now the barbed wire wrapped around Paige’s heart and tightened. She heaved a sob. “God, I miss him. I love him so much. Why didn’t I admit it sooner?”
She picked at a tissue clutched in her hand. “Grandma, he has the most beautiful blue eyes. And you thought Crash Davis was hot? You should see Beckett! But he’s also considerate and generous and loyal. He’s funny. He called childbirth classes Le Mans classes.” She chuckled aloud, then dabbed at her nose.
“His downside? He’s a charmer. A playboy.” A little sigh escaped her. “But people can change if they want to, right? You taught me that. And to be honest, he has changed. He’s not that guy anymore.”
Among the birds’ trills, a quiet voice sounded in Paige’s head. “You’re a smart girl, sweetheart. Trust yourself.”
Paige looked over her shoulder. No one there. “I’m so scared,” she whispered. “What if I’m wrong again? What if he breaks my heart?”
“What if you let him go, and he finds happiness with someone else? You’ll have a lifetime to wonder what could’ve been. A lifetime of regret.” The words came as though carried on a breeze, and Paige’s heart lightened.
“He has a swagger, Grandma. I like it.” Like no one before him, he’d made Paige feel bewitching and beautiful and every bit the woman to his man. Just thinking of how her body had attuned to his unleashed tendrils of desire through her. And I like that about him too.
Chirping came from a high branch, and Paige looked up. A bird twitched its tail at her. She swung her eyes back to the gravestone. “What do I do now?”
.~ * * * ~.
Days later, Paige moved aside the slim file she’d begun building on Cliff Hartwig with little idea what she’d do with the bits she’d gathered. She’d discovered a picture of her father smiling devilishly into the camera, his dimple on full display. Her dimple. Warmth radiated in that smile, a warmth that reinforced the notion he’d loved his baby girl.
Now she was riveted to the TV for the Flyers’ do-or-die game. Lose tonight, and they would be eliminated from the playoffs. She’d watched the whole series, favoring the Metropolitan showdown over her hometown Central Division. It was a traitorous secret she shared with only Gwenn, and tonight Gwenn watched the same game in Seattle.
The teams were still warming up, and Beckett skated across Paige’s screen, connecting her to him somehow. How she loved watching his big body move, picturing every muscle, mole and scar under his gear. Tenderness flooded her, chased by regret.
Her phone buzzed, and she turned on her Bluetooth to pick up Gwenn’s call.
“Henry took the kids for pizza, so I’ve got an uninterrupted hour. Whoa, love the long hair on Beckett. He’s looking mighty fine,” Gwenn exclaimed.
His helmet was off. His hair didn’t quite reach his shoulders, and it fluttered behind him when he sped up. “The perfect flow.” Paige laughed. “And all those women holding up signs agree he’s looking fine. I wonder if he sees them?” And if he’ll take any of them home tonight?
“Nah, he’s so used to that crap. He’s in the zone when he’s out there.”
&nbs
p; “That’s what he said once when I asked him. And the times he lets outside thoughts in, he screws up.”
“So every time he messes up, he’s thinking of you,” Gwenn chortled.
“What? No, he’s not.” A flush warmed Paige’s body. “I haven’t talked to him since my birthday. I’m sure I’m the farthest thing from his mind right now.”
“That was your choice, Paige. Even Beckett won’t keep banging his head against the ice to get your attention.”
Squirming, Paige rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Well, he’s probably on to sampling the next flavor of the week anyway.”
“I don’t see anything about him on social media these days, unless it’s the team posting some community event he’s involved in. Nothing like the old days when all the pictures seemed to capture him at his bad-boy best.” Gwenn paused a beat. “You know, you act as though he two-timed you.”
“Oh, my favorite GEICO commercial!”
“Don’t change the subject,” Gwenn warned.
“Well, he never cheated that I know of, but we were only together for ten or so days. He didn’t have time to hook up with anyone else.”
Gwenn made a buzzing noise. “Wrong. You only had sex for ten or so days. You were together more like seven or eight months.”
“But that was just friends.”
“Don’t kid yourself, sweetie.”
“Are you defending him?”
“Someone has to. Seriously, Paige. You know I love you, but you dumped him without giving him a chance, and frankly, from where I sit, he did nothing wrong. You believed Psycho Bitch, a crazy ho with zero credibility.”
“What about his past?”
“What about it? It’s the past. Can’t people change?”