23. Tyler
TWENTY-THREE
TYLER
Dad’s office chair spins when I enter the garage, his hands folded in his lap. “Where in the heck have you been?”
I feel like I’m sixteen again and two minutes past my curfew. “Taking Ellie to school?” I say. “Why?”
He purses his lips. “How did I beat you in here this morning? All the lights were off.”
I search for an answer and go for the truth. Well, part of it. “There’s a leak upstairs so we’re staying somewhere else for a little bit.”
His brow knits. “A leak? Where?”
I shrug. “Just in the ceiling.” I can see that isn’t going to cut it. “In the bathroom.”
“Where are you staying? You know you’re always welcome at home.”
“I know. We’ve got somewhere to go. We’re fine.” I start looking through the jobs on deck for the day, hoping he’ll move on.
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain chicken and pumpkin farmer, would it?”
I freeze but refuse to face him. “Huh?”
“Little bird told me Becca’s been getting Ellie from school.”
“Yeah, she’s helping out with El,” I say casually, but my neck is red and my heart is pounding. “You know how good she is with kids.”
“I do,” Dad croons. “I’ve been trying to tell you Becca’s a sweetheart.”
I grunt, trying not to give anything away.
Like the fact that I had Becca’s ass in my hands last night and her tongue in my mouth.
And that my stomach jumps whenever I think of how good she felt after years of dancing around each other.
Of her tiny moan when I put my hand across her pretty throat.
Of how I had to stop kissing her or I was at a high risk of blowing a load into my pajama pants just from a kiss.
I made it to my room, but it was a narrow escape. The impact of my lengthy dry spell is really starting to show.
I turn and lean my butt against the counter, still flipping through tickets for the day. “Yeah. Been meaning to ask you, actually. If I needed you to watch Ellie tonight, could you?”
“And miss line dancing night?” he asks.
I smack the tickets against my thigh. “You don’t even dance. You could let me go for once. You always say I need a night off from Ellie—”
“Ha!” He points at me. “You’re going to line dancing night with Becca, aren’t you?”
I roll my eyes. “Does it matter? Can’t I just have a night off? You offer to babysit all the time and the one night I try to cash in on it, you balk.”
He props his elbows on his knees and his chin on his joined fists. “You can have a night off. I just wonder why all of a sudden things are changing.”
Because you’re running this place into the ground and somebody needs to step up and save it.
Instead I go for the answer that I know he’ll tell Mom and they’ll repeat it back and forth to each other for days.
“I think maybe you’ve been right. It’s time for me to live a little.”
“I don’t want to go to Papaw’s!”
Ellie’s wail can probably be heard two counties over.
“Shug, it’s just one night. I can even come sleep there after we go out—”
“I don’t want to go there!”
I flinch as she winds up to launch into another sob.
“Can he come here?” Becca asks gently. I thought she’d be driving off into the sunset by now, and hell, I wouldn’t blame her for it.
A three-year-old’s tantrum is no joke. But she’s still here with us, sitting on the floor by our piled up shoes and Ellie’s overnight bag that will likely be getting no use tonight.
I hold Ellie in my lap and rock her. After Ellie’s sob has bloomed and gone quiet again, I respond to Becca. “Dad’s not great with night driving. He keeps putting off cataract surgery.”
“Your mom?” she tries.
“It’s Wednesday. Church.”
“Oh, right.”
Ellie cry-yells over us and Becca opens her arms, trying to give her somewhere else to land. “Come here, little mama.”
Ellie gives an earnest cry that actually sounds like “boo-hoo” before slumping into Becca’s arms. Becca looks great, dressed up for our night out. She picks some of Ellie’s hairs out of her lip gloss after she kisses her temple with a soft “oops.”
“Even if me and your daddy go out for a little bit, we’ll come back. We’ll always come back for you.”
We. We’ll always come back for you. I don’t know whether to feel honored or terrified at Becca volunteering herself like that. Like we are already a family, even though we aren’t.
But we could be very soon.
Maybe Becca’s just trying to do whatever she can to make Ellie feel better.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Ellie sniffs.
Becca looks at me for help. “I could . . . maybe sleep at your papaw’s too?”
“I wanna sleep HERE!” Ellie shrieks.
“I don’t think we can do anything,” Becca says to me.
She’s right. It’s not the sitter that’s the problem. This is just too much for Ellie. I’ve thrown a lot at her this week. I was a fool to think we could just leave her with Papaw.
I’m sure for a kid who hasn’t experienced what Ellie has, you’d just get through the tantrum and leave them with a sitter with a “good luck.” I can’t feel good about doing that to Ellie. She’s almost crying to the point of making herself sick.
I know Becca wants to go out. I know we need to go out. Becca’s rings got delivered to the shop after I left, so I need to at least stop by and pick them up before someone steals them.
There’s the chance that this tantrum could end and Ellie will be fine. But I can’t have any sort of good time knowing Ellie’s here, or at Papaw’s, potentially losing her mind.
Ellie relies on me. Only me.
Ellie starts to calm in Becca’s arms. I want to pull Becca away for a minute to talk about this, but I don’t think Ellie will tolerate me being away from her for even a minute.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth.
Becca winces. “I can try Darcy or Maggie? What if Darcy or Maggie came to be with you here?”
Ellie sits, considering that. I wait for the next meltdown, but it doesn’t come. We might be getting somewhere.
“Would you want Darcy or Maggie to stay with you tonight, shug?”
Ellie sniffles. “Okay.”
Becca’s eyebrows shoot up and she pulls her phone out of her purse. “I’ll call Maggie now and see if she can come by. Why don’t you go sit with your daddy?”
Ellie transfers back to my lap on the floor and Becca steps onto the porch to call Maggie. She walks back in with an apologetic face.
“Maggie can do tomorrow, but not tonight.”
I nod. “That’s still really nice of her. Did you tell her yes?”
“Yeah. Figured we have to do it sometime.”
I feel terrible. We need to show off our relationship, but I think Becca’s holding part of her feelings back.
She wants it to be on line dancing night, because that’s when people will expect her there and when a lot of people will see her.
She’d never say it, but she does crave approval and attention. I know this is important to her.
“Stay in?” Becca offers.
I grimace. “You could go alone and talk about how great I am?”
She chuckles. “That won’t seem weird at all. If y’all are staying in, I am too. Miss Ellie, what do you think about helping me put my chickens to bed and then we’ll check on our cabbages in our jammies? Maybe we can send Daddy to the store to get some chocolate chip cookie ingredients.”
I raise a brow at her. “Do we not have any? Didn’t you already do the chores?”
Becca winks at me over Ellie’s head and mouths “practice.”
“Okay,” Ellie agrees.
“Alright. Let’s go get our jammies on and you can help me with all the night chores.”
Ellie gets out of Becca’s lap and rushes for the stairs while Becca hangs back with me in the kitchen.
Her voice is low and she leans in close.
“Practice having you leave at night. Then maybe she’ll do better tomorrow night when Maggie comes.
You don’t have to go all the way to the store.
Just out the road a bit. Show her you’ll come back. ”
I nibble my thumbnail. “What if she melts down again?”
She shrugs. “Then I’ll call you to come back. We’ll at least have tried.” Becca reaches for my bicep and gives it a squeeze. “This is a lot for her. And it’s a lot for you. How are you?”
My throat feels tight. When was the last time someone asked me that and meant it?
I never expected Becca to be this helpful and willing to do the hard stuff.
The really hard stuff. I’ve spent so long just sucking it up and going it alone that it feels alien to have help.
Sure, Mom and Dad help, but only as much as I’m comfortable letting them.
The help Becca’s offering is the help I actually need, not just the help that she wants to give.
Even though I’m still rattled, I can answer her honestly. “I’m good. Thank you.”
By the time I leave, Becca and Ellie are stomping off toward the coop, flashlights in hand.
Becca still has her nice hair and makeup, but she’s wearing maybe the sloppiest pajamas I’ve ever seen, the bottoms of which are stuffed down into her cowboy boots.
The sight has my stomach in knots. Not only is it heart-meltingly cute, but I’m reminded of younger days with Becca, times when she was the wild thing sprinting off to make her little potions of moss and leafy bits and creek water in old Coke bottles.
My eyes feel hot thinking she might give that kind of magic to Ellie.
Everything is moving so fast with this arrangement that I almost can’t breathe.
Before Becca’s truck broke down, before Ellie’s field trip, my life was a steady, predictable grind.
I don’t know whether I want that reliability back or whether I want to throw it all away and dive headfirst into the madness.
The sight in front of me makes me want to do the latter.
It’s getting dark as I drive out Creek Road, and I take in the fall colors starting to fill in.
While it’s a longer commute than climbing the stairs to our apartment, I have to admit that it’s pretty peaceful.
An owl swoops over the road with a snake in its talons, which ignites some long lost little boy wonder in me. Wouldn’t see that at the garage.
When I reach my destination and park, I’m relieved to see an untouched package leaning against the door.
Becca’s rings.
I pick it and the mail up and unlock the door, flicking on the light while I rifle through the mail. Junk, garage bills, and the seemingly ever-present bill for CJ’s rehab.
Like I needed the reminder. The irony that I’m holding her best friend’s engagement and wedding rings at the same time isn’t lost on me.
I’m not wasting more time on ancient history.
I toss the mail on the counter and rip the tab on the package. For a cheap ring set, it’s in a cute box, trying to make it look like one of the expensive jewelers with a bright blue bow.
How am I going to give it to her? On one knee? Just hand it to her and have her open it like any other present?
I’m itching to look at it now, so I carefully slip the bow aside and lift the lid, then open the clamshell box inside.
Tiny rainbows splash everywhere, even in the garage’s fluorescent lighting. There’s a big oval stone on a silver band, though not as big as she wanted. A V-shaped ring with tiny diamonds—fake diamonds—all over it will sit around the engagement band.
She’s right though. I really can’t tell it’s fake. Looks real enough to me.
It feels real. I’m asking Rebecca Jean Martin to marry me, just not for the reason I ever thought I’d get married.
The reason isn’t really important. She’s going to wear this ring to show everyone she belongs to me. With me. We’re going to be tethering ourselves to each other. Reversibly, but the thought of it ending makes my jaw tighten so much it hurts.
This little band on Becca’s finger. This sparkly stone proving she’s mine.
Holy fucking shit.
How is Ellie going to feel? Hell, how does she feel right now? I hope she’s not giving Becca too much hell, but she should have been able to get a text through if something was wrong. I’d better head back anyway, just in case.
I make a stunned drive back to the farm, my mind everywhere and nowhere. But when I get there, I can’t find Ellie or Becca. My heart pounds, a hundred worst case scenarios playing out. Not even T-Bone pops out to greet me. Are they still outside? It’s late now, and Ellie should be in bed.
She’s not. I peek into my bedroom to find nothing.
“Reba?” I whisper-yell into the dark. Then T-Bone’s smiling face appears from Becca’s doorway.
Thank god for the damn dog. She licks my hand as I walk into Becca’s room, doing my best to tread softly in case Ellie’s asleep somewhere.
I barely notice T-Bone’s incessant licking once I’m in the bedroom.
Ellie is tucked into Becca’s body on top of Becca’s sheets with Pussy sticking out from her arms. Both of them are sound asleep.
Consider my heart completely detonated.
I don’t have a ton of pictures on my phone. Most of them are of Ellie or parts I need to find for people’s cars.
This one might have to be my new background. The dim light from the hallway shines just enough to show their serene faces. I snap the picture, pocket my phone, then bend to decide how to shift Ellie out of Becca’s arms. T-Bone, per usual, thinks this is a game and wiggles between me and Ellie.
“Quit,” I whisper, giving her a pet. “You really are a turkey buzzard.”
She nuzzles into my hand and, fine, she’s cute. I stand straight and run my hands over her coat, which she rewards by slumping her face into my shoulder.
“Aw. You’re a good one.” I tug her collar to get her to jump down off the bed and scoop Ellie out of Becca’s arms. I carry her down the hall to her room and nestle her into her sheets, tucking her in with a forehead kiss.
T-Bone has followed me this whole way, so I snap my fingers and point to the bed. “Up.”
T-Bone gets in bed with Ellie and I leave them to sleep. I get ready for bed, then peek into Becca’s room one more time before I turn out the hall light. The blanket shifted off her shoulders when I picked up Ellie and wrestled T-Bone.
With my heart in my throat, I step into the room and pull the blanket up to her shoulders. This woman is my future, and not long ago, I was against everything she stood for. Now, I’m about to commit to a lifetime with her, even if we don’t quite mean it.
What a whirlwind. But looking down at her like this, I can’t imagine it going any other way.
Becca will probably have to wake up before Ellie and I do, and I don’t want her to worry that Ellie isn’t in her bed. I opt to leave her a note.
Thanks for taking care of her.
Ty
Like my body has a mind of its own, I dip to press a kiss to her forehead too.