Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BECKETT
I stand on my parents’ porch long after Griffin’s taillights disappear, feeling like I’m watching a part of myself drive away. I can’t decide if that means I should race after him… or let him go once and for all, and save myself from feeling even worse when he finally leaves Winsome for good.
But the truth is, I don’t know if I’m capable of that anymore.
Dinner had been good. Really good. Watching Griffin laugh at my siblings’ antics, talking to my dad, smiling at my mom, it had been even better than I would have imagined. He’d fit so naturally into the chaos of my family. And somehow, with him at my side, I’d appreciated the whole experience more.
And then he’d left.
More accurately, he’d fled.
For the second time today.
I’m no relationship genius, but he was clearly feeling strong emotions about something.
“Is Griffin okay?” Mom asks, pulling a shawl around her as she steps out beside me. “Poor man seemed upset.”
“He did.” I scratch my beard, still staring down the driveway. “I don’t know what’s going on with him, though.”
“Well, he’s probably feeling some kind of way about Jim,” she says in a gently rebuking tone, like that’s something I should’ve considered.
“Must be hard being around a big family, especially now.” She shakes her head and sighs.
“I should’ve thought of that. Asked him to lunch instead of a family dinner. ”
“What do you mean, about Jim? Like… a delayed grief thing?” I frown. “Griff and Jim weren’t that close. They haven’t seen each other since Griffin was eight.”
Mom stares at me like I’ve grown two additional heads. “No, honey, I meant Griffin learning Jim was his biological father. I bet seeing you with your dad dredged up all kinds of emotions.”
My jaw literally drops. “Jim is—was—his biological father?”
Her eyes widen in the porch lights. “You didn’t know? I heard from Ada. She was worried about him and asked me the best way to handle it. I don’t think she knew it was a secret. I sure didn’t!”
I drive both hands through my hair. Jim Grange, Griffin’s biological father?
Ah, fuck. Griffin had been searching high and low to figure out why Jim left him that treehouse. Then he’d found out his why… and the why sucked.
No wonder he was upset tonight. And this morning, after that whole long conversation about my dad? Jesus.
I dig my keys out of my pocket, ready to follow him. Griffin needs comfort, and I let him go because I was busy trying to protect myself—
And because Griffin hadn’t told me about Jim.
The thought makes me freeze.
Griffin obviously wanted to be alone, right? So I should respect that.
He could’ve told me about Jim on Sunday or any time since, and he hadn’t, which meant he didn’t want me to know.
And even if I went over there… fuck, I don’t know how to comfort anyone. Just because I have feelings for him, just because I want him around me all the fucking time, doesn’t mean the reverse is true.
Dad’s voice calls from inside, asking if Mom wants him to bring out her jacket, and I remember what he said earlier today, at Watchfire. “I know better than to wait for her to say she needs me. When you love someone, you want to make their life better. Easier, anyway.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as things fall into place with an almost audible click.
Goddamn it, I’m falling for Griffin Mercer.
I wait for this realization to feel wrong or to scare the shit out of me. But instead, it steadies me. Shores me up like hardwood. And makes me realize that while I’m sitting here dillydallying, Griffin’s out there alone.
Which is absolutely unacceptable.
I know he probably doesn’t return my feelings. I know he’s leaving soon, and his future plans don’t involve me. But I also know that if I can be there for him, whenever I can be there for him, for as long as he might want me to be there for him, that’s exactly where I want to be.
“I’ll check in later, Mom,” I call, already heading for my truck.
She doesn’t sound remotely surprised. “Give Griffin a hug from me,” she yells after me.
When I pull into Griffin’s place ten minutes later, I don’t have to look far to find him.
Though I can see the lights shining through the darkness from the treehouse windows, Griffin’s standing in the driveway, at the scene of our first meeting…
and our second. His blond hair’s shining like a beacon in the moonlight…
and he’s glowering up at the tennis racket lodged in the branches of a giant oak.
He doesn’t seem to hear the crunch of my tires on the gravel or my boots as I step cautiously closer to him. It’s like he’s lost in his own head, staring down that racket.
“Hey,” I say softly.
His head whips around at the sound of my voice. His hair’s a mess, his sweater’s covered in pine needles, and there are silver tear tracks on his face. He looks miserable… and it breaks my heart a little bit.
I have no idea what to say or do. How to fix this for him. When people want comfort, they turn to my mother. To Ames or True. To Eliza, in a pinch.
I’ve spent so long pushing people away, I don’t know how to be what Griffin needs.
So I do what feels right.
“Come here, baby,” I call softly. Then I close the distance between us and gently pull the brave, brilliant man I’m falling for into my arms and cradle him against my chest.
Griffin just exhales and melts into me, like he’s been holding himself together by sheer force of will and finally has permission to fall apart. His shoulders shake against my chest.
“If you want the racket down, I’ll get it down,” I murmur into his hair.
“You know, he said this racket was lucky.” Griffin’s voice is muffled against my shirt.
“Jim did? When?”
“It was hanging in a glass box in his living room—my living room—labeled ‘Good Luck Charm, Break in Case of Emergency.’”
I nod slowly. “That sounds… Jim-like.” By which I mean ridiculous and generally harmless.
His gaze lifts to mine, and fresh tears flow down his cheeks.
“Yeah? I wouldn’t know that because I barely knew the man.
You knew him. Perky at the grocery store knew him.
Freakin’ Posy at the scavenger hunt knew him.
Not me, though. All I have is a treehouse, and a rope bridge to an empty room, a bunch of books about a guy with my name, and a stupid letter that tells me fucking nothing. ”
He inhales a ragged stutter-breath. His hazel eyes are so bright it’s like he’s burning from the inside. “I didn’t care. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter that he’s…” He breaks off and shakes his head.
“Your biological father,” I finish. “That’s what your moms told you last week, right?”
Griffin’s eyes squeeze shut, causing more tears to spill out, and he nods. “I’m sorry if you think I should have told you. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. If I felt anything about it. I felt like… like I shouldn’t feel anything about it.”
“Griffin, baby—”
“Jim didn’t want me to know he was my biological father.
He didn’t think he had it in him to be a father to me or something.
And that’s fine! Genuinely fine. It should be fine.
Like, so what if I didn’t have a father like you had, when I had a pack of ten lesbian aunts who taught me to play T-ball and beer pong, you know?
I didn’t need a father. I didn’t want him to be my father.
But why does it hurt so much that Jim didn’t want me in his life, even as his nephew?
That he didn’t want me to know him, even if it wasn’t as his son?
That he didn’t let me thank him for this inheritance he gifted me before he died?
I’m being so s-stupid. A-and I’m crying, and I hate crying. ”
I hold him tighter.
“Griffin, stop thinking about what you owe other people.” The words come out fiercer than I intended.
“Stop thinking there’s a right way to feel.
I fell into that trap with my dad, and you helped me get out of it.
What Jim wanted or needed, the way he handled this…
that’s on him. And… I guess a little on your moms. But it has not one damn thing to do with who you are or what you’re worth. You’re everything.”
Griffin’s expression twists into something raw and vulnerable. I have the overwhelming desire to keep him in my arms forever and make sure nothing hurts him again.
“It’s not just Jim,” he whispers. “I gave my whole life to my career, Beckett. I wanted to build something stable. Something no one could take from me. But it’s like I told you before. I took a wrong turn somewhere. I had it all wrong. I failed. And now I just… “
“Bullshit.” I cup his face in my hands, tilt his chin up for him, since for once he can’t seem to manage a defiant chin lift on his own.
“You are brilliant. People in New York knew it. Everyone in this damn town knows it. I know it. You’re smart, and you’re brave.
And you had some shit luck. You trusted someone who fucked you over.
But if you want that career in New York, you’ll get it.
And I will do whatever I can to help you. ”
His eyes search mine in the moonlight like he’s trying to read the truth in them. “But… why would you do that?”
My expression melts. “Why? Because I care about you, city boy. Because you’re so fucking special, I can’t not.”
Griffin stares at me for a long moment, his expression shifting from raw pain to something like wonder, as if he can’t believe what I’m saying.
If I stop to think about it, neither can I. This sweet man has turned my entire life upside down in just a few short weeks.
I brush away his tears with my thumbs. “Cold out here,” I say. “Let’s go inside.”
He nods and leans against me as we walk up the stairs to the treehouse, wrapping his arm around my back.
Inside, the house is warm and quiet, with lamplight spilling golden across the purple sofa and all the mushroom knickknacks.
“I think,” I begin.