Wild as Her (Beckett Family #2)

Chapter 18

Indie

“ H ere, this is for you,” Wild states, grabbing the jacket from the back of the chair and tossing it to me when I exit the bathroom.

It was a quick shower, followed by an even faster session of me getting ready to go.

“For what?” I ask, closing out of my text conversation with Megan about the fundraiser we are planning.

I study the oversized black and gray plaid jacket in my hands.

“So you ain’t cold in the car again.”

He grabs his wallet from the nightstand and puts it in his back pocket while I debate about wearing his jacket or using my own so that he has one, too.

“That’s okay. I have mine packed in my suitcase. You can wear yours.”

I toss it back to him, though I really want to wear it. In the brief minute that I held the thick, sherpa-lined jacket, I could smell Wild’s cologne and body wash scent all over it, making me want to wrap up inside of it even though I was not even remotely cold.

After sliding on my favorite hoop earrings, I glance around the room one final time, making sure I didn’t forget anything. We’ll be back tonight since I always stay the whole day when I come up here, but I never leave my things in the hotel room when I’m gone.

I once had a friend who worked in a hotel, and I know for a fact that some of those cleaning ladies like to snoop. Not that I have anything to hide, but I don’t like people touching my things.

When we got to the room last night, I was glad Wild was here to distract me from my thoughts. I don’t know why it has been so much more difficult to visit my mom this year.

Obviously, it’s always a little upsetting, but over the years, I’ve gotten good at keeping those emotions down and accepting that this is just the way my life was planned to be. I was never meant to know this woman that I’ve only heard great things about. Her beauty was something I was only meant to see in photos, never in person. I would only hear her laugh on old recorded videos, never the full belly laugh with my own ears.

A tear slides over my lid, and I quickly wipe it away, hoping Wild didn’t see.

“Hey, come here.” He reaches to pull me into him.

Of course he saw .

His firm, warm arms wrap around me tight as his chin rests on the top of my head. His comforting sandalwood and vanilla smell, mixed with his minty toothpaste, engulfs me. I breathe him in deep and immediately feel calmer as I exhale.

“I’m here, Ind. Whatever you need.”

His hand rubs slowly up and down my back, the gesture more affectionate than I’m used to from him.

“Thanks,” I utter, growing uncomfortable with the feeling that is being created here.

It’s too intimate. Too… not us .

I gently push out of his hold and walk toward the door, my jacket in one hand and suitcase in the other.

“Ready to go?” I peer over my shoulder at him.

He nods his head with a soft smile but doesn’t say anything else as he follows me to the door.

Taking a deep breath, I school my emotions—I need to keep this in check. I don’t fucking cry.

Headed to see Mom. Wish you could have come with me.

Dad

Me too, Pumpkin. I love you. Call me when you get back home and tell me about your trip.

Okay. I love you, too.

“Whatcha doin’ over there?” Wild’s voice startles me.

Locking my phone, I place it in my lap.

“Just lettin’ my dad know I’m headed over.”

It really sucks that he couldn’t make the trip this year, but I know the weather is much worse up north where he moved. He would have made the trip anyway but said he had some new guys to train at work and would be coming down next week. I could have waited and come when he did, but something in me won’t let my mom be alone on this day.

“How is ol’ Gerald these days? Miss that guy. Ain’t seen him in ages.”

“He’s good. Seems to always be workin’,” I shrug. “Wait… what do you mean you miss him?”

“Me and him go way back,” he says like it’s obvious to everyone.

Not in the mood to carry on more of a conversation, I let it go. He probably said hi to him once and considers that going way back .

We turn down the narrow paved road and make the first left into the cemetery. There are rows and rows of tombstones, some decorated with flowers, others with little trinkets like picture frames, stuffed animals, and other gifts loved ones have left behind.

I take it all in as we slowly drive down the row—the trees that are starting to lose their leaves gently swaying in the morning breeze and the gloomy sky above that matches my attitude perfectly today.

I point out where Wild needs to turn, and we follow the path deeper in until I tell him to stop.

“Alright, kid. This is your stop.” He looks unsure as he glances out the windows and back toward me. “Would you rather me stay here or come with you? I’ll do whatever you want me to.” His genuine eyes search me, waiting for a response.

“You can wait here. I won’t be too long.” I look over, and he nods in understanding. “If you wanna go back to that gas station down the road and grab a coffee or somethin’, that’s fine, too… I just like to do this part alone,” I admit, tucking the loose hair behind my ear.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Wildflower.”

His smile causes a warmth to ignite in my chest. Some weird part of me wants to reach over and hug him, knowing it would help me feel better.

Stepping out of the car, goosebumps blanket my skin as the crisp fall wind swirls around me. The stray hairs from the bun on my head sway around my face as I make the walk to the tombstone I’ve sat at every year for twenty-nine years in a row.

“Hey, Momma,” I smile, smoothing my hand over the gravestone before crossing my legs and sitting on the cold grass beneath me.

A small gust of wind whirls past me, the loose wisps of hair tickling against my neck and forehead. I smile, staring down at the gray marble stone in front of me, imagining my mother is saying hello.

“It’s been one hell of a year,” I finally say, shaking my head.

Over the next several minutes, I recount all of the events of the last twelve months—the relationships, the music gigs, the backyard barbecues, the holidays with my friends. I even pull my phone out and open my photo album. I know she can’t see the pictures I’ve taken, but a part of me feels closer to her having it open, and like maybe she can see it.

“And once again, I was without a place to live,” I wrap up, telling her about my most recent run-in with housing issues. It seems like a yearly tradition for me to bring up looking for a place to live.

“I wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to move in with Wild—you know how crazy he drives me.” I bite at my cheek, thinking about the man who always steps in to save me.

“But surprisingly, neither of us has died yet,” I laugh, my eyes moving to the trees rustling in the breeze. “To be honest, I think I might like him a little more than I want to admit to myself… Crazy, right?” I smile, fidgeting with my thumbs as I sit on the cold grass. “He’s saved me more than once this past year. God only knows why… I can’t help but snap at him anytime he makes me feel… well, any emotion,” I laugh to myself.

The more I think about Wild, the more I feel guilty about the way I treat him.

I wonder what life would be like under different circumstances. Like if my mom was here, and I’d have had her growing up. I love my dad, and I know he did all he could for me, but there are times when a girl needs her momma.

Sometimes the girls and boys at school can be real assholes. I never wanted to bother my dad with the mean things the kids would say to me, teasing and taunting me about not having a mom and about my name. Some of them assumed my mom just didn’t want me and that she moved away and left me behind. Their words would cut me deep every single time.

Until one day, I had enough. I stopped taking people’s shit, and I didn’t let their words get to me anymore. If you take down the biggest bully in school, the rest of the kids get the memo to leave you alone pretty fast. I popped Tony Middleton right in the nose that morning on the monkey bars. Blood went everywhere as he screamed and cried. I didn’t care—the asshole deserved it.

I think my dad knew some days that something was up, but he never pushed too hard. He was always good at giving me space. The poor guy was not only thrown into parenthood alone; he had to raise a little girl. Men know very little about women as it is. I can’t imagine the stress I was on him for all of those years. Not only trying to figure out a kid, but a headstrong woman.

A tear wells in the corner of my eye as the familiar burn begins in my throat.

“I have managed to keep my job, though,” I laugh, swiping at the escaped tear. “I really enjoy bein’ there.”

Changing to a more light-hearted topic feels necessary. I don’t want Wild to get back and see my crying. He’ll just swoop in and comfort me, making me like him even more.

“I’m so grateful for all of the friends I’ve found in Twin Pines,” I nod. “They’re really good people, and I ain’t got a clue why they put up with my shit,” I laugh. “But I’m glad I get to spend so much time with them, even when I’m at work.”

The fact that I get to be with one of my best friends all day and get paid for it is a blessing I count daily.

“You know, I’ve been told that if you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life. I think I’ve finally found that. It’s nothin’ spectacular or anything like that. I’m not savin’ lives or makin’ millions of dollars, but being in a healthy environment, surrounded by people you enjoy spendin’ time with, is more than anyone could ever ask for—trust me, I’ve had enough jobs at this point to know,” I laugh from my nose. “And I’ve learned that spendin’ time outside and takin’ care of plants is something I enjoy. It never feels like work to me.” I pause, rolling my lips between my teeth and taking a deep breath.

“I wish I could ask if you liked those things too,” I whisper, staring out across the long row of tombstones, thinking about all of the questions I would ask her if given the opportunity.

The wind picks up again, and I tuck the stubborn, loose hairs back behind my ear. My finger catches in my earring, and I smile.

“I wore my hoops again. They’re still my favorite,” I say, loosely twirling the metal between my fingers.

My dad bought them for me for Christmas the year we moved to Oklahoma. The silver hoops looked identical to the ones I saw my mom wearing in the photo I found of her when I was a little girl. When I opened them, I burst into happy tears instantly.

The sound of a crow cawing from a far-off tree pulls me from my melancholy state. With a smile, I lean forward and trace my fingers over her name—the rough texture of the letters a stark contrast to the glossy, smooth surface of the surrounding stone.

Glancing at the time on my phone and noticing how long it has been, I assume Wild will be back soon. I don’t want to make him wait, and I’m starting to get cold anyway.

“There’s actually one more thing I wanted to tell you about before I go.” I stand, dusting my bottom off and tucking my hands inside my jacket pockets.

I’m nervous, and I don’t fully understand why. A part of me knows my mother would be proud, and there’s absolutely nothing to be anxious about. But another part of me worries it’s not enough—that I shouldn’t be bragging about simply volunteering.

Deciding to ignore the intrusive thoughts that do nothing but tell me lies, I let the words out.

“I’m doin’ a fundraiser.” I put my weight onto one foot, lightly toeing the other over the faintly green grass. “I met this doctor—her name’s Megan. She has a travel clinic that helps people get the care they can’t afford. When she told me about it, I knew that I needed to help in any way that I could… It’s still in the works, but I’m gonna do everything I possibly can. I’ll definitely tell you all about it… Maybe I can come visit again soon.”

From the corner of my eye, I see my SUV pulling into the cemetery and quickly wrap up my final words.

Leaning in, I kiss the top of the cold gray-speckled stone. “Bye, Momma. I love you.”