18. Beckett
18
beckett
As the credits roll, my eyes train to the beauty beside me. She put up a good fight, but sleep claimed her about twenty minutes ago, which is a lot later than I thought it would. I figured she’d conk out as soon as it started.
Exhaustion layers her face, but it’s no wonder. We got little—if any—sleep last night, and no doubt her meltdown took an emotional toll on her body.
I hate to wake her, but she needs to sleep in a bed. My bed.
I nudge her shoulder. “Willa, let’s get you in bed.”
She rouses slowly, her eyes blinking, zeroing in on me. “Sorry. Was more tired than I realized.”
“Not a problem. You can watch the ending tomorrow.”
She nods, her eyes catching on something in the corner of the room.
The lighted tree.
I couldn’t help flicking the switch after she fell asleep. I needed the fix, like an addict with drugs. Even if only a bit of a high. My body relaxed immediately. Tension rolled off in waves, and I felt like I could fully take a breath. It’s not all from the tree. The heaviness of Willa’s story took its toll on me, too.
“Shit, sorry. Let me turn it off. ”
Willa grabs my wrist. “It’s okay.” She winces as she says the words, though the statement is genuine.
“They have to go off anyway at bedtime.” Soon as I clean up the cake and mugs and lock the doors, I’m turning in, too. Another big day of prepping and working tomorrow.
She sits on the couch, her eyes still adjusting to the light from the TV, her legs tucked into her chest. “Will you, um, lay with me, until I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Should I be giving in to her every request? No.
Will it stop me? Also no.
My decision isn’t only for her, but I don’t have the brainpower to unpack all of what it means. Perhaps I don’t want to.
“You got it. I’ll lock up and meet you in there.”
Her smile is small but grateful.
What I wouldn’t give to see more of her smiles. More expressive ones. I sense I haven’t seen Willa experiencing pure joy.
After sending her on the way to my bedroom, I load the dessert dishes in the dishwasher, turn off the lights on the tree, and make sure all the doors are locked. I plug in my phone next to the couch, confirming the alarm’s set.
Joining Willa in the bedroom, I find her tucked into my bed—on my side—her tired eyes tracking my movements. She holds up the comforter, inviting me under. I can’t refuse.
Just until she falls asleep, then I’ll move to the couch.
A shrill noise wakes me from a peaceful slumber.
“Make it stop,” the woman in my arms grumbles.
I take a minute to realize what the noise is and why Willa’s in my bed.
Or rather, why I’m in bed with her. Not that I’m complaining. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while. Having her in my arms isn’t a hardship.
Except I have to take care of the deafening noise first .
Reluctantly, I climb out from the warmth of the bed, leaving her there. I shuffle to the living room, turning off the phone’s alarm.
I left it out here thinking I’d be sleeping on the couch. Instead, I fell asleep with her.
I don’t regret it even a little.
It’s earlier than I need to get up, but if I climb back into bed, I won’t want to leave it.
Won’t want to leave her.
However, I don’t have that luxury today, and I hardly doubt she’ll want to come with me. She won’t start enjoying Christmas because she told me her story. Though now that I know the real reason, a part of me wants to give her some joy back, even if it’s minuscule and temporary.
Temporary. There’s that word again.
“What time is it?” Willa’s groggy question interrupts my thoughts. She’s starfished on the bed. If only I could join her. Instead, I keep my feet rooted in the doorway.
“Early. I have an errand to run, then I’m off to work on the holiday breakfast with Dax. Coffee? Breakfast? Cake?”
Even in the dim light of the hallway, I can make out her smile at the last suggestion.
“Cake is an acceptable breakfast, don’t you think? And coffee. Must have coffee. Your choice since you’re making it and all.”
“Who makes it every morning for you?”
“Me, myself, and I. But yours is super better. A whole lot. A plethora times better than mine.”
“You’re super adorable.” The comment blasts from my mouth with abandon. I swear she lights up more. Rather than dwell on my awkwardness, I change the subject. “What are your plans for the day?”
She sits up as I get dressed. “My only goal is to avoid a breakdown of any kind. If nothing else gets done, I’ll consider today a success. How long will you be gone? ”
It doesn’t escape my notice how domestic this conversation is.
Or how right it feels.
“Most likely all day. The busy season is upon us. If you want to leave, you can use the SUV in the garage. Keys are hanging on the key hook by the back door. I’ll take the truck just in case. It’s not as great with all the snow still hanging around.”
“Where would I go?”
“Wherever you want. No lights during the day, but most stores blast Christmas music. We could meet for lunch.” Meeting her for lunch will push my arrival home later, but the way the idea perks her up, I’m glad I suggested it.
She sits up straighter, her eyes dazzling with interest. “Yes. At your favorite place.”
“K. I’ll write down the name. You can put it in your GPS, but it’s just off Main Street.” I debate whether to add the next thing, but figure what the heck. If she turns me down, it won’t be the end of the world. “Mom’s making a pot of chili and wanted to extend the invite to you. No pressure, but Mom’s chili is out of this world. But my siblings will all be there, and there will definitely be a discussion about the holiday. You don’t have to let me know right now. There’s always room at the table, even at the last minute. Think about it.”
Why am I so nervous for her to say yes?
Because I want her there.
I want her to meet my family.
I want . . .
I shut down these paths of thinking. What I want and what’s reality are two different things. No use even thinking about her in any capacity other than temporary.
“Will do.” Her fingers rub her ear. The more she does it, the more endearing it is. So much of it is subconscious, which makes it more beguiling. “Thanks for indulging my request last night.”
I’m momentarily confused by which request she’s referring to, but I say, “You’re welcome. ”
“It was kinda nice to have you in the bed with me.”
“Only ‘kinda’ nice?” I tease.
“I’m so used to sleeping on my own, I missed a warm body. And yours was warm.”
I’m not sure if she insinuates about it being my warm body or if I hear that because it’s what I want to hear. Either way, I’m taking it as a compliment. Not only about my body being warm.
“It’s a first for me.”
Her lips turn into a frown. “Sleeping next to someone else?” she surmises.
I shrug. “In my bed.”
“Hmm,” she hums. “That’s . . . interesting.”
My eyes spy the time. “Shit. I have to get going. I’ll make the coffee, but then I’m running out the door. You’ll find something for breakfast?”
“There was mention of cake. I’m fine.” Her lazy smile twists my heart. The urge to climb back into bed with her is so strong, but I resist.
“Cool.”
If I don’t walk away now, I won’t. However, I can’t resist the pull to her, so I drop a kiss on the top of her head.
I don’t misinterpret the hitch in her breath.
Or was that mine?
My mind wanders to Willa as I drive through town to the elementary school where this year’s holiday breakfast is being held. Specifically, what she’s doing while I’m gone for the morning. It doesn’t take much to think about her. She’s the star of my waking fantasies and the nighttime ones. A stupid grin springs to my mouth.
Stupid only because it’s ridiculous how much she’s embedded herself in me. Without my permission. Probably without even trying. Despite her crazy tendencies, the woman inserted herself into my life in such a way I’m accommodating her every whim.
And I don’t hate it.
Dax’s truck idles in a spot near the cafeteria door, his concentration engrossed in his phone. He doesn’t notice when I pull up, park, or get out, and only does when I knock on the passenger window. He jumps in his seat, his phone flying from his fingers. I chuckle as his lips mutter curse words I’m not privy to until he lowers the window.
“You scared me, dipshit.”
“I gave you ample time to figure out I was here. What’s so riveting on your phone? I thought you gave up porn.”
His eyes narrow. His middle finger closest to me scratches his head.
It’s been this way all our lives. I’d do anything for him, but riling each other and giving the other a hard time is what we do best. Just ask anyone at the garage. He’s the mechanic while I do the auto body work and only clash on the occasional wreck we need to work together. I’m astonished he agreed to co-chair breakfast with me this year. He clearly forgot all the bitching and moaning he did three years ago when I put him to work serving the food.
This year, he’s been extremely helpful throughout the planning process, something that begins in the summer. We’ve only had one small argument about the theme, but after we finally agreed on Reindeer Games, it was smooth sailing. It helps that he let me be in charge of the food and he took lead on the activities, and we agreed outsourcing the decorations was the best plan. As good as I am with creative endeavors, transforming the cafeteria into a place that incorporates the theme is outside my wheelhouse. Thankfully, there are plenty of people in town willing to create decorations. I can’t wait to see how it all comes together.
The Winterberry Junction holiday breakfast has been a staple in town for as long as I can remember. The chairperson from the previous year appoints his or her successor when necessary. Nominated five years ago, I’m not ready to give it up yet.
A gust of wind picks up, reminding me I’m standing in the cold, with snow still on the ground from the other day’s storm. “Let’s go inside and make sure it’s all coming together.”
Blowing into my hands, I wait at the front of the truck while Dax turns off his engine and fishes his phone from the floor. Still mumbling to himself, when he joins me, his first question is, “When do I get to meet Willa? Shania hasn’t stopped talking about her.”
I love how much my niece is so captivated by Willa, even though she doesn’t know her secret identity. When she finds out, it’s going to blow her mind.
“I invited her to dinner tonight.”
“Why didn’t you bring her along to help with breakfast?”
“She’s working.” It’s not a complete lie. She’s supposed to be working. I can’t tell him the real reason she wouldn’t come to breakfast. She wouldn’t get one foot in the door before she’d freak out. After what she shared about her loss, I can’t completely blame her. Sharing her secret relieved her of some of the stress and tension she’s been carrying around the last two years.
It may have even grown her grinchy heart a centimeter or two.
Wishful thinking.
I shouldn’t care so much about her like or dislike of Christmas, but I can’t help myself. Once she leaves, her abhorrence of the greatest holiday will be a blip on my radar, a person I knew for a short time.
My heart twists with the thought of her leaving, of never seeing her again.
“Becks?” Dax’s voice penetrates my brain, diverting the runaway train my thoughts are on.
“Yep. ”
He raises an eyebrow. “You have no idea what I said, do you?”
I don’t even lie. He’d see right through it. He may be the biggest pain in my ass, but he’s my best friend. “Nope.”
He smirks. “You definitely have to bring Willa to dinner.”
“Why?”
“Because I gotta meet the woman who finally flustered you enough to knock you down a peg.” He strides away, sneaking inside the open door before I can refute his claim.
Except I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t true.
Damn him for being so observant.
Or am I to blame for being so transparent?