Chapter 39
CLOVER
Icatch Beckett watching me again as I walk around talking to the parents who brought their kids. He’s grilling the meat, and I’m playing the perfect hostess. Lennon and her friends are in the bounce house we rented.
I’m on edge, waiting for Hannah to text me back. She’s kept to her end of the bargain. Beck signed the deed over to her, and she dropped the petitions for custody and spousal support. She even signed off on her parental rights.
I’ll be honest, Lennon hasn’t asked about her once since we stopped going to the visitations.
We’ve asked her if she wants to call her or talk to her, and she’s said no each time.
She’s called me ‘Momma’ every day since the day it happened at Mary and Hayes’ house.
Sometimes she still calls me Lovey, but more often than not, it’s Momma.
Every time the name comes from her mouth, my heart feels like it’s going to burst. I wish my mom could be here for everything.
I check my phone again, but nothing. I send Beckett a text instead.
Cake time!
I already had dessert, but I could absolutely devour you again if you’d like.
Beckett Hollis.
Clover Hollis.
My eyes fly up to meet his, and he fucking winks.
Pretty sure it’s Clover Kerrington.
Pretty sure it won’t be for long.
Is the ink even dry from the divorce papers? Wouldn’t want it to smudge.
Keep that smart mouth up and I’ll be seeing what else it’s capable of.
You’re insufferable. I’m going to get my daughter’s birthday cake now.
Your daughter, huh?
Yup. Until she opens her mouth and your personality comes out.
I watch him chuckle at his phone, hand his dad the spatula, and walk over to me.
He holds the cake while I light the seven rainbow-striped candles on it, and we carry it out, singing.
When everyone gathers around and Lennon blows out her candle, she makes her wish very quietly, and after, refuses to tell anyone, even when they ask. She gets very frustrated when someone asks her, because she is a firm believer that if she says it out loud, it won’t come true. Me too.
The text comes through late. Lennon is asleep, and Beckett, Brynn, and I are cleaning up the aftermath of the party. Fifteen kids leave a mess.
I can meet tomorrow.
Great. I’ll meet you at two at Sips. It’ll just be me.
K
I am horrible at keeping things in, especially huge things.
You know, like all of the things I’m holding in right now.
I sit down at a table closer to the back of Sips with my frozen chai and wait anxiously.
I’m pretty sure the speed of my bouncing leg would be clocked on one of those speed-limit signs that blink when you’re going too fast.
The bells above the door sound, and I see Hannah making her way to the back. She’s wearing huge sunglasses like she wants to be inconspicuous, but she’s also wearing a bright pink leather jacket with fringe. Talk about mixed signals. She sits down in front of me.
“What do you want?” She asks. Her shitty fake accent is dropped and she’s all business. “I have to meet with the bank and a real estate agent today, so I don’t have all day.”
“That’s actually what I’m here about,” I say, matching the no bull-shit tone. “I’d like to make a deal with you.” I slide a folder across the table to her and she opens it. After reading for a minute, she looks back up at me.
“No shit?”
“No shit,” I confirm.
* * *
I’m a nervous fucking wreck. It’s Noodle Tuesday, and I’m cooking for everyone. It’s become a tradition at this point every week, and as far as everyone except Lennon is concerned, it’s one of the last Noodle Tuesdays at the ranch.
“Lucky?” Beckett asks, standing at the counter. “You okay, darlin’? You look pale. You need some help?”
I laugh nervously. “No, all good here!” I wipe my hands on my apron. I’m glad that’s a normal cooking thing because now he won’t assume it’s because my hands are sweaty.
Everyone is at the table when I carry the last of the food out. Same routine every week, Brynn and Beckett are arguing about something, Lennon is ready to chow down, and Mary and Hayes are soaking it in.
I sit down between Beck and Lennon, and everyone begins making their plates. It goes like it usually does. After we are all done eating, Beckett speaks up. “I’m really going to miss this place.” Everyone nods silently, and Lennon looks confused.
“Where are you going, Daddy?”
“Beetlebug, some things are about to change pretty big around here, but we are all here, and we all love you,” he tells her. I can tell he’s gearing up to tell her we are moving, and the timeline of my announcement has now been bumped up.
“We aren’t going anywhere, Lenny,” I say. Beckett shoots me a look, and I clear my throat. “I actually have something to tell y’all, since we are all here.” I go to my bag and pull out a folder and a small box.
I stand beside Beckett and put the folder down in front of him.
“What’s this, CJ?” He asks, flipping it open. His eyes scan over the papers in front of him and he looks up at me. “You bought the ranch?”
“This is your home. This is your life, this is Lennon’s life, this is my life . . . and his life.”
I put the box in front of Beckett and he searches my expression, confused at what I’m saying. “Open it,” I urge.
He opens the top of the box and stares into it. I never thought I’d see the day that this man legitimately sobbed, but he does. I watch the moment of realization come over him, and his shoulders start shaking as he chokes up.
He stands up so fast that his chair falls over, pulls me into his arms and picks me up, spinning me around once. “Are you fucking serious?” He asks, setting me back down. “Tell me you’re serious, Clover Jane. Please tell me you’re not fucking with me.”
“Whoa, two dollars!” Lennon cheers. Mary is smiling and crying, and Hayes looks confused.
“I’m not fucking with you.”
“Three dollars! Momma, why did you give Daddy the thermometer?” She pulls out the contents of the box.
“I’ll be damned,” Hayes says loudly, reaching over and grabbing the box. He pulls out the paper, skims it, and hands it to Mary, who covers her mouth as she reads the results.
“Papa can do cussing for free,” Lennon says, still wildly unaware of what’s going on, but I can tell she’s buzzing with excitement because everyone else is. She looks up at me, still holding what she thinks is the thermometer.
Beckett squats down to meet her at her level. “Beetlebug, that’s not a thermometer. It’s a test that Momma took. It told us she’s gonna have a baby, and the paper says you’re going to have a little brother.”
Lennon stares at him, frozen. For a minute, I panic, worried she will think I’m replacing her.
“A baby?” She asks quietly.
We both nod.
“My birthday wish worked! We get a baby! Holy shit!”
She takes a dollar out of her pocket, runs to the cussin’ bucket, and shoves it in there.
THE END.