Chapter 8
“S he really thought you were cheating on her?”
I looked over at Nick. Trevor was standing behind him gaping at me.
“I don’t know if it’s that so much as her anxiety just creating scenarios,” I shrugged, my shoulders aching with the lifting and work we’d been doing.
“Maybe you should just tell her,” Trevor suggested, “Especially if it’s getting worse, like you said.”
I shook my head, placing a few more nails to secure the freshly painted shelves to the shed’s newly-papered walls.
“I can’t ruin the first big thing anyone’s ever done for her,” I argued, “and Nat is so excited about bringing her out here on Christmas morning. Maybe I can talk her into showing it to her tomorrow instead. Christmas Eve is basically Christmas.”
Trevor glanced around the area, raising his eyebrows, “I can’t believe she’s not come out here snooping. Most women would’ve been digging around already. Is Mon still sneaking in tomorrow morning to place the books and decor before she heads to her parents?”
I laughed and nodded, “I told Becks there may be wildlife in this shed. It’s so old that looking from the outside, there’s no questioning it. It not having windows has helped too. I’m glad I ended up running into Monica and filling her in. I wouldn’t know what books to put where.”
“Driving you here from the station every ‘night shift’ you’ve been working has kind of been a pain in the ass,” muttered Nick.
“I know. I owe you all. But man. She’s gonna love this.”
I stopped and looked around the space.
It had been my grandfather’s woodworking shed. It was spacious and sat in the far corner of our back yard. The inside had been gutted and we’d lain new hardwood floors, wallpapered the walls, and hung soft lighting everywhere after redoing the ceiling. Fairy lights hung around the room with pictures of settings from her favorite books.
I’d added pictures of us and Nat, along with pictures of Monica and the girls. There was one of Paul and Monica with us on a date night too. The new sofa was big and comfortable. I’d even added one of those huge, comfy, lounge chairs she'd seen online, a small coffee bar loaded with all the ingredients and a few snacks, a mini fridge with other beverages and more snacks, and blankets. Lots and lots of blankets. The shelves wrapped around the entire room except for where furniture and the pictures were. There were also the boxes-upon-boxes of books and shelf decorations for Monica to place and organize.
The outside still looked like hell but that was getting redone this summer. Becks would have a library all to herself. I smiled taking in the work we’d done with pride.
“You’re so gone,” laughed Nick, shoving me.
“Hey. Don’t hate what you don’t understand,” said Trevor. “If you love a woman enough, you’ll do all this and more.”
My eyes met his and I nodded at him.
I’d seen the way he’d been working his way back into Monica’s everyday life. I’d always had the feeling he’d never let his feelings for her completely die. Paul had confided a lot to me about it and how he hoped if anything ever happened to him Trevor would find the courage to step back up. It ached to think about, but I couldn’t say I disapproved.
Paul’s understanding of the dangers of our job had made everything as easy as possible for Monica and the girls in the aftermath. It encouraged me to do the same and have my affairs in order should anything happen. I had Becks and Nat now, and as much as it pained me to think of leaving them in a world I wasn’t in, it felt better knowing things were in order.
“Man,” sighed Nick, oblivious to mine and Trevor’s stare behind him as he finished placing another shelf. “I can’t imagine being so gone over anyone to do all this. I’ve been alone so long I don’t think I could cohabitate with anyone.”
I shook my head at my friend. Nick was older than us by a few years and our group had always considered him the big brother figure.
“Those are the famous last words.” I slapped him on the shoulder.
As we stood and surveyed the finished room, “I just want to say thank you all again for helping me when you could. I know you all have your own lives and are busy. I couldn’t have gotten this done and together without you all.”
“Our own lives?” laughed Trevor, “I’m basically alone and doing nothing when I’m not on shift or with Lacey,” he scoffed, referring to his and Monica’s daughter together.
“And I work and go home,” added Nick. “This forced me out of my hermit tendencies.”
“Think Mon will have enough time to get everything on the shelves and the boxes gone tomorrow?” asked Trevor, looking at the stack with some trepidation. “Are you sure you didn’t go slightly overboard?”
“Nothing’s overboard for Becks,” I spoke softly. “Y'all know how Monica is. She’ll have everything placed and put together within an hour. The best part is, Nat is going to spend the night with them tonight and she’ll bring her over in the morning before she and the girls head out to her parents. The girls will be helping her.”
Trevor nodded, “Gotta keep Becks distracted.”
I grinned, “That won’t be a problem.”
Nick made a face. “Dude. TMI.”
“Whatever, assholes. You guys are dismissed.” I joked.
“Oh, okay, boss” joked Trevor while Nick mock saluted me.
I laughed as they walked out the door and disappeared into the night. Turning out all the lights, I locked up the door behind me and placed the key, and its new keychain, in my pocket.
I’d given Monica the second key earlier and everything was planned for her and the girls to park a street over and sneak in to finish the job. Walking in the back door, I overheard Becks telling Nat to be good as she was heading out the front to meet Monica and her girls for their sleepover.
“Hey! Don’t forget to say goodbye to your dear old dad, Peanut!” I yelled.
I heard her feet running down the hallway as I exited the kitchen and scooped her up in my arms.
“Be good for Mon,” I whispered, squeezing her tight, “Make sure everything looks perfect in the morning.” I winked, setting her down.
She winked back, “I will. Promise. Love you, Dad.”
“I love you too.”
I watched her run past Becks at the front door and grab her bag on the way out.
Becks stood and waved as Monica honked and pulled away.
“So, what are our plans for tonight?” I asked, looking at my fiance.
She seemed on edge again today. I knew her anxiety was high again because of the first holiday without doom and gloom hanging over her head. She wasn’t used to just being able to enjoy something without looking over her shoulder.
“Just wrapping the last of the Christmas presents,” she murmured, moving past me and into the kitchen. “Can you grab them from the attic and bring them down? I already have the wrapping paper and stuff ready on the kitchen bar.”
I nodded, turning and heading up the stairs. I pulled down the built-in ladder leading up to the attic and climbed a few rungs. I could grab a couple of bags from here with my height. I saw a wrapped package sitting by them that said my name from Becks. Shaking my head I knew she’d been climbing around the attic by herself again.
I sighed, pushing the ladder back up into the ceiling and turned. Nat’s room looked like a tornado had hit it. I grimaced, knowing that irritated Becks. I also know she’d asked her to clean it before she left.
“That’s not helping the anxiety,” I muttered, flipping Nat’s lights off and closing the door to her room. I picked up the bags of gifts and jogged down the stairs.
“Nat didn’t clean her room?” I asked, walking into the kitchen. Becks stood with her hip against the kitchen bar looking at her phone. Loose curls fell around her face from her ponytail and she glanced up at me, eyes irritated behind her glasses.
“Doesn’t look like it. I’m texting her now. I want it done before Christmas morning.” she muttered.
“It looks like a typical teenagers room,” I placed the bags on the bar, smiling at her.
Her phone hit the bar with a thunk and she straightened. “Typical teenager or not, I asked her to clean it before she went. I don’t need everyone ganging up on me,” she snapped.
My eyebrows raised. Okay. Something else was going on here. Becks was never this short with me.
“No one is ganging up on you, Becks.”
She laughed and took out Monica and the girls’ gifts. Reaching back into the bag she took out two manly looking presents and I knew she’d included Nick and Trevor.
My heart warmed a little bit. The second bag held several gifts for Nat, but as I watched her, I saw her hands were trembling. Leaning over, I moved the things she'd just taken out of the bags and placed my tattooed arms against the counter, looking up at her.
She scowled at me, but I could see something like pain lurking in her eyes. Maybe we’d finally reached a boiling point. I’d waited for this to happen. She’d never grieved or exploded after everything, might as well be tonight. Nat was out of the house and we could deal with this once and for all.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a huff, “I need to get these done.”
“We have two days.” I commented calmly, still looking at her. “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart.”
“Ugh!” she slammed her palms on the counter “Not everything is a therapy session, Lucas.”
I straightened, my own palms flat against the counter, “And how was therapy today?”
“Stupid.”
My eyebrows raised further.
“Explain, Rebecca.”
“I don’t have to talk to everyone about everything!” she snapped at me.
“No. You see, that is the problem. You don’t talk to anyone, about anything.” I said, my voice louder now.
Instead of the fear coming across her face, that she usually got when I was frustrated and barely raised it, she squared up like she was going to go toe to toe with me. Here we go. Finally.
“You have no idea,” she muttered, spreading some wrapping paper back out on the counter, moving to ignore me.
I swept my arm out, knocking it off the counter completely. She picked up the tape dispenser, tossing it at my chest. The small, plastic container hit me right in the middle of my casual tee and clattered to the floor. I glanced down at it and back up at her.
“Why don’t you try using your words and telling me what the fuck is wrong, Becks?” I demanded softly.
Her hands went into the air and she honest-to-goodness stomped her foot.
“Everyone wants me to talk. Becks, you’ve been through such trauma. Becks, you’re too strong. Becks, tell me what’s wrong-”
“Well to be honest, you’re working yourself up into some kind of drill sergeant with cleanliness around here so everyone’s walking around on egg shells for fear of pushing you over the edge. Why don’t you go ahead and jump off it? Have at it! Do something, Rebecca. Explode. Rage. Break shit. Be pissed. Get fucking furious. Your therapist is right. You haven’t grieved. You haven’t even gotten mad. You’re holding it all in and it's affecting your life and health. It's starting to affect our relationship and your friendships. I know it's related to your anxiety and issues here, but dammit. Nothing’s going to get better unless you Let. Me. In! ”
I watched her pacing back and forth from across the bar and slowly walked around to meet her coming towards me again. I grabbed her arms as I said,“Stop.”
She yanked away, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Fucking talk to me.”
She let out a frustrated little scream, placed her hands on my chest, and shoved. She caught me off guard enough I fell back a step, but grabbed her forearms again, and shook her gently.
“Let it out, Rebecca! Fuck! If you need to rage, rage at me. If you need to fall apart, I’ll catch all the pieces and put you back together. If you need to hit something, hit me. I’m your safe place, Becks. Let it go.”