Chapter 35
CLOVER
“The money got moved to your account yesterday. Sorry it took so long, the feds really didn’t want to let go of it until everything was clear,” my lawyer tells me.
“Seems like it,” I tell him. It’s been ten months since I last got paid, and luckily, I haven’t had to pay any bills since I moved back.
It’s wild to think that I’ve lived with Beckett Hollis for ten months now.
The skeezy landlord also gave me back my deposit and three months of rent I had used to secure the apartment.
“You’ve also been cleared to move the money from your mother’s trust,” he says delicately.
He knows it’s a topic that’s been hard for me.
I’ve not wanted to touch it. I felt like I shouldn’t use it because it was hers, not mine.
She deserved that money after the hell those doctors put her through.
Their lawyers played hard, but mine came prepared.
It’s been sitting in an estate account I made since then, along with the other assets.
I also own the deed to the house I grew up in, right here in Ashstone Ridge.
I keep up to date with everything on it; I just replaced the roof last year, but I do everything through a property management business, so no one can really connect it to me.
For the last four years, I rented it out to a family in a pinch who needed somewhere to go.
They are back on their feet and let the management company know they’ll be out next month.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it or the money, but I had it moved just in case it took a while to get paid and I needed to leave Beckett’s.
“It’ll take a while to process, I’m assuming, due to the amount all at once. I know the bank follows up even if it’s a few thousand dollars, so I’d probably be prepared for a longer deposit due to it being over four m—”
“Thank you, James. You’re the best,” I interrupt.
The amount sickens me when I think about it.
I like my fancy iced coffees and cute clothes, I like going to fun events, and I buy expensive skincare products, but in no way do I need the amount of money I now have access to.
I’ll start thinking of ways Mom would’ve wanted to spend it and start there.
Beckett is walking up to the truck with the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen on him. When he gets in and shuts the door behind him, he leans in and kisses me, smiling against my lips.
“You’re mighty cheerful for someone who is waiting outside a custody meeting,” I say when he pulls away. “Not complaining, just confused.”
“I’m not sure how to even bring this up, but. It’ll probably come up in court, and I don’t want you to be shocked by it,” he begins. “Remember when Lennon told you she pretended you’re her mom sometimes in the store?”
I nod. “Of course.” Neither of them knew how hard I sobbed in the shower that night.
While I’m glad I didn’t have kids with any of my exes, seeing how all of those relationships turned out, I still grieve never having them.
I saw doctors and specialists, and none of them had answers for me.
Unexplained infertility, they all said. We don’t know why you can’t have kids, but you can’t. Sorry about your luck, I guess.
They didn’t actually say the last part, but they might as well have.
I try to act as though not having them was my choice, but it wasn’t.
I wanted two or three kids. I wanted a family to get together on holidays and for family game nights and dinners.
I wanted to go to games and cheer for them, go to their debates and cheer for them, whatever they got into, I wanted to be there.
When Lennon said what she said, it was the closest I’ve gotten to being a mom.
She has no idea how special that was to me.
“Well,” Beckett continues. “Hannah asked Lennon what she likes to do. Lennon told her, ‘bake cookies with Lovey,’ and Hannah asked if Lovey was her imaginary friend.”
I laugh at that. “I’m sure Hannah wishes I was imaginary,” I huff out.
“She probably does now.” He pauses, scratching at his beard. “Lennon told her that you’re her mom who stays.”
I’m speechless. For Lennon to feel that strongly about me makes me feel so good, but also terrified. What if Beckett doesn’t want me around like that? Is there pressure on him now to keep me here? What if my being here hurts her?
Beckett pulls my hand to his lips. “Clover Jane, whatever is in that pretty little head of yours needs to find a different home. You are ours. You are our family, if you wanna be.”
“Beckett, you haven’t seen me in years. You don’t know if you want me to stay, and I irritate you.”
“I think I’m the authority on what I know,” he tells me with a dead serious tone. “I want you to stay. Lennon wants you to stay. My whole family wants you to stay. I never wanted you to go in the first place. I’m not asking you to marry me right now; I’m asking you to say you’ll stay.”
I study his face to make sure he’s being genuine. When I take longer than he anticipated, his hand goes to his chest, and his look turns to fear. He’s scared I’m going to reject him this time.
I take his hand before his anxiety gets him. “I’ll stay.”
He grabs my cheeks with both hands and kisses me.
“You’re moving into my room tonight,” he decides.
I need both of us to hold onto this happiness because when he gets back in the car with Lennon after her visit, I can tell shit’s about to get rough.
She’s quiet on the ride home, and when we offer to stop at Two Scoops, she says she just wants to go home, hang out with her cat, and de-possess. Neither of us corrects her.
At bedtime, when we ask her what her best part of the day was, she tells us it was knowing she doesn’t have to go live with the girl with too many shiny things on her jacket.